¹ St. Gildas was born in the richly fertile region of Arecluta, a land that lies within Britain and takes its name from the River Clut, which flows through and nourishes it. He was the son of Caunus, a man of noble lineage and deep Catholic faith. From an early age, Gildas longed with all his heart to follow Christ and dedicate himself wholly to Him.

² In his own writings, Gildas speaks of the suffering, sin, and downfall of Britain, and he begins his account with a striking description of the land itself. He writes: “Britain is renowned for its twenty-eight cities, and adorned with numerous fortresses. It was once strongly fortified with defensive walls, towers shaped like sawteeth, and gates. Its buildings, solidly constructed, rose to impressive heights, their rooftops seemingly reaching up to the heavens.”

³ Britain is also celebrated for its wide, open fields and its gently rising hills, perfectly placed and well-suited for rich and fruitful farming. Its mountains, ideal for rotating pasture and grazing, are not only useful but also beautiful—adorned with wildflowers of every kind, like a beloved bride adorned with many jewels. The land is blessed with many clear, sparkling springs, from which quiet brooks flow softly, bringing rest and comfort to weary travelers, soothing them even into peaceful sleep. It is further enriched by two great rivers—the Thames and the Severn—like arms stretching out from the land. In earlier times, these rivers carried boats laden with luxuries from foreign lands into Britain. Alongside these mighty rivers, many smaller streams also water the countryside.

⁴ With this vivid picture of the beauty and blessings of the land, and with an understanding of the noble region from which that revered and holy man, St. Gildas, came, let us now, with God’s help, begin to tell the story of his life.

⁵ Caunus, their father, is said to have had four other sons. One of them, Cuillum, was known for his strength and vigor in warfare. After Caunus passed away, Cuillum succeeded him as king. Another son, Mailocus, had been dedicated by their father to sacred learning. He was thoroughly educated in it, but eventually chose to leave his family and renounce his inheritance. He journeyed to Luyhes, in the region known as Elmail, where he established a monastery. There, he devoted himself fully to God—offering constant hymns and prayers, observing fasts, and keeping watch through the night. He died in peace, renowned for his holiness and miracles.

⁶ Egreas, along with his brother Alleccus and their sister Peteova—a virgin consecrated to God—also gave up their family estate and rejected the pride and pleasures of the world. They withdrew to a remote part of the land, and not far from one another, each built a small oratory for personal devotion. Their sister’s was situated between the two, signifying her special place among them. There, each of them lived a life of solitude, prayer, and service to the Lord, as it is written: “Therefore, come out from among them and be separate, says the Lord. Do not touch what is unclean, and I will receive you”.

⁷ Each of the brothers, on alternating days, would join their sister in prayer—celebrating with her the Divine Office and the Mass. After Vespers, they would share a simple meal with her, give thanks to God, and then return to their individual oratories before sunset. Each brother kept vigil through the night alone in his own chapel, offering his prayers in solitude. These holy and blessed individuals—Mailocus, Alleccus, and Egreas, along with their saintly sister—had, as mentioned before, rejected all wealth and earthly luxury. With their whole hearts, they sought the heavenly homeland (patriam caelestem) and dedicated their lives to fasting, prayer, and service to God.

⁸ In time, they were each called home by God and received the reward of their faithfulness. They were buried in the very oratories they had built with their own hands—places now revered for the miracles that continue to be associated with them. Their names remain honored, their legacy bright, and their bodies rest in hope of the resurrection, destined to rise again in glory, as it is written: “Those who are wise shall shine like the brightness of the sky above; and those who turn many to righteousness, like the stars forever and ever”.

⁹ The blessed Gildas—also known as Gildasius—was destined to become the pride and glory of his people. His parents entrusted him to the care of St. Hildutus, who took him under his guidance to instruct him. St. Hildutus welcomed the holy child with open arms and began to teach him the sacred writings. Noticing that Gildas was strikingly handsome and deeply devoted to his studies, he grew to love him with a tender affection and made every effort to teach him with attentive care.

¹⁰ Thus, Gildas was placed under a master’s tutelage, receiving instruction both in the divine scriptures and the liberal arts. However, even as he absorbed knowledge from both areas, his heart leaned more strongly toward divine wisdom. He longed to pursue a life of spiritual contemplation and deliberately turned away from worldly praise. Though he came from noble birth, he had no desire to live according to the privileges or pride of his status. During this time, Gildas, a valiant and devoted servant of Christ, committed himself fully to the monastic life. He willingly took up the spiritual discipline of obedience—arma fortia obedientiae—laying aside the ways of childhood. Even though he was still young, he chose to live with the seriousness and discipline of old age, transforming the vitality of youth into the maturity of a seasoned soul.

¹¹ From a young age, Gildas had enlisted in the service of the eternal King. He left behind the ways of youth and, both in his example and instruction, offered to old and young alike many signs of eternal salvation. He lived in a way that gave structure and guidance to both stages of life. Known for his wisdom, he remained steadfast in reading the Scriptures, constantly vigilant in prayer and keeping watch, and deeply devout in a love that words could not express. His actions were full of grace, his demeanor gentle, and his appearance striking—handsome in form and pleasing to behold. He was, as the Apostle says, “crucified to the world, and the world to him”.

¹² At the school of St. Hildutus, where Gildas was trained, many sons of the nobility were also educated. Among the most prominent of these—both by birth and character—were Samson and Paul. Yet even among such esteemed company, the blessed Gildas stood out, surpassing them all with the extraordinary sharpness of his intellect. In time, the most holy Samson became Archbishop of the Britons (that is, the Bretons), and Paul was consecrated as bishop of the Church in the territory of the Oxismi.

¹³ The previously mentioned Hildutus lived with his disciples on a small, cramped island, barren and bleak due to its dry soil. One day, the blessed youth Gildas came to him and respectfully said, “Dear teacher, I recently heard you preach from the Gospel about the words of our Lord, where He urged His disciples to ask God in faith for what is good, promising they would receive it. As the Scripture says: ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you ask for in prayer, believe that you have received it, and it will be yours’. So then, my noble master, why do you not ask our Lord Jesus Christ—who has the power to grant all things asked of Him in faith—to expand the boundaries of this island and make its land fruitful?”

¹⁴ When Saint Hildutus heard these words, he was amazed at the boy’s faith. Gathering his disciples, he entered the oratory with them. There, kneeling on the ground and lifting his hands toward heaven, he prayed with tear-filled eyes: “Lord Jesus Christ, Son of the Almighty God—You who, with the Father and the Holy Spirit, made heaven and earth, the sea, and all that is in them—you taught Your disciples to pray to the Father for whatever they needed, with the promise that their prayers would be answered.

¹⁵ In Your name, we humbly beg the mercy of the Almighty Father: that through You, He may command the borders of this island to expand and cause its soil to become fertile. May it provide an abundance of food for us, Your servants, and for those who come after us. May it be through the overflowing generosity of Your grace, so that, nourished by Your gifts, we may give thanks to Your holy name—You who live and reign with the Father and the Holy Spirit, forever and ever.”

¹⁶ When all had said “Amen”, they left the oratory—and saw that the island had expanded in every direction. All around, it bloomed with a variety of flowers. Then the elder returned to the oratory, and overwhelmed with joy, he and his devoted band of disciples lifted their voices in hymns and highest praises to the Lord, the Creator of all things—who is near to all who call on him in truth.

¹⁷ With remarkable resolve, the old man began cultivating the island, which had miraculously expanded for him. He sowed seeds of grain in the fertile soil, and when the joyful shoots of the crop began to sprout, seabirds gathered in great numbers and started to destroy them. Seeing this, Father Hildutus instructed his disciples to guard the fields and drive the birds away—each taking turns to watch over the crops on their assigned day.

¹⁸ When it came time for Saint Paul to take his turn at keeping watch, an unusually large flock of birds descended on the field, more aggressive and destructive than before. They scattered across the farmland, tearing up the ears of corn. Paul, a young man known for his energy and devotion, ran back and forth shouting at the birds, doing everything he could to chase them off—but it was no use. Finally exhausted, he called out to his brothers for help—among them the blessed Gildas and the venerable Samson—urging them with these words: “Come to my aid, brothers! Help me, dearest companions, and let us avenge the loss suffered by our master. Behold! A horde of enemies is devouring everything, tearing through the fields and consuming our teacher’s harvest. Let the greedy plunderers who have ravaged our master’s fields pay the price they deserve.”

¹⁹ At these words, his companions rushed to help. The holy youths, calling upon the name of Christ, gathered the wild birds together. Then, empowered by the Spirit of God, they drove them like flocks of wandering sheep before them. When they had herded the birds all the way to the old man’s dwelling, the captive birds, now cornered, raised their voices and cried out to heaven. Hearing the commotion, the old man came out from his oratory and witnessed the power of God with his own eyes. He marveled at the depth of faith shown by the boys and said to them: “Let them go, my sons. Let the birds be released. It is enough that they have been chastened. Set them free—and in the name of the Lord, let them dare no more to harm our fields.”

²⁰ Obedient to the old man’s word and not daring to disobey, the birds flew far away once they were released and never again troubled the grainfields of that island. To this day, that island is known as Llanilltud—the Llan of Illtud.

²¹ After spending several years under the guidance of St. Hildutus, during which he was thoroughly instructed in all that God’s grace had entrusted to his teacher—whether it concerned secular knowledge, as far as the subject required, or the sacred Scriptures—St. Gildas took his leave. He respectfully bid farewell to his devout teacher and his revered fellow students, setting out for Iren (that is, Ireland). His purpose was to continue his pursuit of wisdom, seeking insight from other teachers in both philosophy and theology.

²² As he traveled through many schools, learning from numerous instructors, Gildas, like a wise bee gathering nectar from many flowers, absorbed the richness of diverse teachings. He then withdrew into the “beehive” of the mother Church, preparing himself to one day pour forth the sweet words of the Gospel. His aim was to lead people back to the joy of heaven and, as a faithful servant, to return the talent entrusted to him with interest.

²³ Inspired by the words of the Apostle—who said that he disciplined his body so that, after preaching to others, he would not be disqualified himself—Gildas practiced severe self-discipline. He kept his body under control through fasting and keeping vigil. He would spend whole nights in prayer, standing the entire time without resting on any support.

²⁴ From the age of fifteen until the very end of his life in this world, right up to the day when the Lord called him home, St. Gildas followed an extraordinary discipline. According to a trustworthy source, he allowed himself only the barest amount of food—and only three times a week.

²⁵ Any discerning person could confidently say that, though he was never slain by a persecutor’s sword, he nonetheless did not miss the martyr’s crown. For he continually subjected his body to harsh treatment: frequent fasting, long nights of prayer without rest, and constant spiritual vigilance. Day and night—even while immersed in prayer—he battled against sin. He resisted the devil’s temptations, denied his body the comforts it craved, and endured pain in that resistance. What else can we say of him, if not that he lived through a long and painful martyrdom? For in his case, he was both the one who inflicted the suffering and the one who patiently bore it.

²⁶ When he had been ordained to holy orders and was serving as a priest, he heard that the people living in the northern regions of Britain were still trapped in the errors of paganism. Even among those who claimed the name of Christ, many had been led astray by the false teachings of heretics and lacked sound doctrine. Moved by this, he resolved—following the Apostle’s instruction—to “put on the full armor of God, so that you may be able to stand your ground on the evil day, and having done everything, to stand firm”. Trusting in Christ’s strength, he set out for that distant land.

²⁷ So he stood firm: he “girded the loins of his mind” like a soldier preparing for battle, even in the midst of pagans and heretics. He put on “the breastplate of righteousness” and “shod his feet with the readiness given by the gospel of peace”. Amidst every danger, he took up “the shield of faith, with which you can extinguish all the flaming arrows of the evil one,” and he armed himself with “the helmet of salvation and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God”.

²⁸ Clothed in this spiritual armor, Gildas—the noble soldier of Christ—began to proclaim the name of Jesus to the pagans. With many clear arguments drawn from the divine Scriptures, he showed them that the idols they worshipped were nothing, mere illusions with no real existence. He also preached the word of salvation to those trapped in heresy, guiding them back to the path of truth and calling them away from their errors. The Lord Jesus Christ had granted him extraordinary gifts of healing, so that through his prayers the blind were given sight, the deaf recovered hearing, the lame and crippled walked, those tormented by demons were set free, lepers were cleansed, and all kinds of sicknesses were healed.

²⁹ And so, St. Gildas continued to proclaim the Gospel of Christ, traveling through every region, teaching the true faith. By the grace of God, he led his people to the one, holy, catholic, and apostolic Church. While Saint Gildas was engaged in these and similar efforts, people from across the northern regions began to flock eagerly to the message he preached. Abandoning their former pagan beliefs, they embraced faith in the Holy Trinity through his teaching and were gathered into the embrace of Holy Mother Church. So complete was their conversion that they came to be known as the bride of Christ—and they lived in a way that proved the name fitting.

³⁰ The people who once fashioned idols destroyed them along with their temples. In their place, they raised churches in appropriate locations. Noblemen and women alike, with their children and entire households, received baptism. When Saint Gildas saw the flourishing of Christian faith and holy devotion throughout the land, his heart was filled with indescribable joy. He lifted his voice in thanksgiving to the Lord and said: “I thank You, Lord Jesus Christ, who in Your mercy have seen fit to enlighten this people through the power of Your holy name. They wandered far too long in darkness, but now, by Your grace, they have come to know You. To us—once miserable and hardened, lost in the land of the shadow of death—the light of Your righteousness has finally dawned. And now, within us, eternal peace reigns”.

³¹ At that time, Saint Bridget—a renowned virgin and a holy woman of great virtue—was living and flourishing in the island of Hibernia (now called Ireland). She served as the abbess of a convent, leading a community of consecrated women. When she heard of the growing fame and sanctity of Saint Gildas, she sent a messenger to him with a humble and heartfelt request: “Rejoice, holy father, and remain always strong in the Lord. I earnestly ask you to consider sending me some token of your holiness, so that your memory may be held in honor among us unceasingly.” Moved by the devotion of the holy virgin, Saint Gildas received her messenger with kindness. With his own hands, he crafted a finely worked mold and fashioned a bell in response to her request. He then entrusted it to the same messenger to carry back to her. Saint Bridget received the bell with joy and reverence, accepting it as a heavenly gift and a sacred link to the man of God who had sent it.

³² At that time, all of Hibernia was ruled by King Ainmericus. He sent a message to St. Gildas, urging him to come and promising that he would follow all of Gildas’s instructions if he would help restore church order in his kingdom—for nearly everyone on the island had turned away from the Catholic faith. When Gildas, that most holy soldier of Christ, heard this, he armed himself with the weapons of heaven and set out for Hibernia to preach Christ. One day, as he was on his way to the king’s palace, he was met by a man suffering from palsy, whom his parents were leading around, asking alms from the people of the land.

³³ Seeing the man and moved with compassion, St. Gildas knelt down and prayed to the Lord on his behalf. Then he went up to the poor man’s cart and said, “In the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, stand on your feet and receive again your former health.” Immediately, the man regained his strength and was healed. He cried out in a loud voice, glorifying the name of the Lord and offering high praise for the holy man, declaring that he would follow him wherever he went. But the saint would not allow it, and said to him, “See that you do not come with me. Instead, go home, and do not stop proclaiming the mercy of the Lord who has restored your health.” Yet the man continued even more eagerly to praise him, telling everyone he met, “Come, come all of you, and see a holy man of God who has given me back the health of both body and soul.” Then St. Gildas, not wishing to be the focus of public attention or praise, immediately left the area quietly, hiding himself so that no one would recognize him.

³⁴ A few days later, some men of noble birth who had once known St. Gildas found him and brought him to King Ainmericus. When the king saw him, he pleaded with him earnestly, offering many gifts and urging him to stay, as he had previously requested, to restore church order throughout the land—for all the people, from the highest to the lowest, had completely lost the Catholic faith. Then St. Gildas, armed with the shield of courage and the helmet of salvation, travelled throughout all the regions of the Hibernians. He restored the churches, taught the entire body of clergy in the Catholic faith so they might worship the Holy Trinity, healed the people who had been deeply wounded by the influence of heresy, and drove far away both the false doctrines and those who spread them.

³⁵ As the number of believers continued to grow in the embrace of the mother Church, and the thorns of heresy were removed, the land—once barren—was now nourished by the dew of heavenly grace and began to bear fruit more pleasing to the knowledge of God’s calling. With the Catholic faith expanding, the region rejoiced at having gained such a great man as its patron. Later, this holy man founded many monasteries on the island, raising within them many sons of noble families and forming them according to the rule of religious discipline. Wanting to offer even more disciples to the Lord, he—being a monk himself—gathered monks not only from the nobility but also from among poor orphans and those who had suffered loss. Indeed, in his compassion, he even liberated captives who had been enslaved by the cruel oppression of pagans. As a good shepherd, conquering his own comfort, he worked faithfully to return the talents entrusted to him by the Lord, doubled in worth. In every way, he led by example and taught through his words, instructing not only the people of Ireland and England but also those of foreign lands. To this day, peoples and nations everywhere deeply revere his deeds and virtues.

³⁶ After these events, St. Gildas left both Hibernia and Britain, parting from all his friends. Setting his sights on distant lands, he journeyed to Rome to seek the intercession of the holy apostles Peter and Paul, hoping that through their prayers he might receive forgiveness of his sins from the Lord, remain steadfast in God’s service, and be found worthy to be united with all the saints in the heavenly kingdom. One morning, after completing the prayers of vigils and matins, he left the basilica of St. Peter at dawn, as he usually did, intending to visit and pray at the oratories of other saints throughout the city of Romulus. As he went, he was met by a man afflicted with dropsy, his body swollen from the water of his dreadful illness, who begged alms from him. St. Gildas said to him, “I have no money with me to give you; but in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, and by the merits of the blessed apostles Peter and Paul, be healed of this sickness. And if anyone asks you who healed you, tell them: it was the Lord Jesus Christ, who showed me mercy through the merits of His apostles.”

³⁷ Immediately, the sick man was healed and entered the basilica of the apostle Peter, praising and glorifying God. St. Gildas, meanwhile, continued on the journey he had begun. While staying in the city for a few days to visit the oratories of the saints, he heard that the people of Rome were suffering terribly because of the poisonous breath of a dragon hiding in a cave in a nearby mountain. This creature, with its deadly breath, had already claimed the lives of many Romans and others living in the surrounding area. Upon hearing this, St. Gildas rose early one morning, left his lodging in secret, and climbed the mountain with a staff in his hand. After offering a prayer, he came to the mouth of the cave, and upon seeing the dragon, he called on the name of Christ and declared boldly: “In the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, I command you to die at once, so that the people of believers may no longer be destroyed by you.” At that moment, the dragon collapsed to the ground and died, and the plague it had caused came to an end among the people.

³⁸ Then St. Gildas, hoping to benefit from the prayers of St. Apollinaris, set out for Ravenna. As he neared the city gate, he was met by a man who was both blind and mute, being led by the hand by another person. This companion was also striking a board with a hammer to signal that they were asking for alms. When St. Gildas saw the man, he was filled with compassion and began to weep. He asked for some water to be brought to him, and after blessing it, he sprinkled it on the blind man’s face. By the grace of God, the man immediately regained his sight. Then, taking some salt, Gildas blessed it in the same way and touched it to the man’s mouth. At once, the man began to speak, praising God and glorifying the holy man who had brought such healing to him.

³⁹ Now it happened that as he was returning from that place, he fell among thieves. When they saw him, radiant in the brightness of his appearance, some of them tried to seize him while others intended to kill him. But when he saw them coming toward him, he called on the name of Christ. Immediately, by God’s will, their feet became stuck to the ground and their bodies stiffened like stone. He then walked away from them and continued along his path. After he had travelled a good distance, he turned around, raised his hand, and released them from their immobility. Once freed, they fled, and from that time on, they harmed no one in those regions.

⁴⁰ Later, when he was preparing to return to his homeland, God—who willed to reveal His mercy to us even more—did not allow him to go. For when he came to Armorica, following God’s command (this land had once been part of Gaul, but at that time it was called Letavia by the Bretons, who inhabited it), he was welcomed by the people with honour and great joy. But Gildas, who avoided worldly and fleeting honours, was increasingly yearning to live a life of contemplation. At that time, however, the power and resources of the Frankish kings and their kingdom were limited. For, as anyone wise can learn from the writings of the ancients, it was Childeric, the son of Meroveus—a man still caught in pagan error—who ruled over the Franks. So, in the thirtieth year of his life, St. Gildas came to an island visible from the region of Reuvisium, and there he lived alone in solitude for a long time.

⁴¹ But before long, just as a lamp that has been lit cannot stay hidden under a basket but must be placed on a stand so that everyone nearby can benefit from its light, he could not remain unknown. People from all directions began to come to him, drawn by his reputation, and they entrusted their sons to his care for instruction and guidance. He willingly accepted them all and began to teach them spiritual wisdom. Eventually, he came to a fort on a mountain in Reuvisium, overlooking the sea, and there he built a monastery with more refined craftsmanship. Within it, he also constructed protective enclosures in the style of cloisters. His way of life shone so brightly in that place that many sick, disabled, and leprous people from the surrounding region came to him and were healed through his actions and merits—a miracle which, even to this day, through the saint’s merits, Almighty God continues to perform in that place.

⁴² Eventually, he built a small prayer chapel along the bank of the River Blavet, beneath an overhanging rock. He carved into the rock itself from west to east, constructed a wall on the right side, and created a simple yet fitting oratory. Beneath this holy place, he prayed and brought forth a spring of clear water that flowed directly from the rock. At one point, St. Gildas wanted to seal the chapel’s eastern window with glass, but no glass was available. In response, he humbled himself before God, lying prostrate in prayer. When he rose, he was guided to a nearby rock. There, by God’s gracious provision, he found high-quality glass ready for use.

⁴³ He also built a hand-powered mill nearby, where he ground wheat into flour, sustaining both himself and others. That same mill still stands today on the very spot where St. Gildas built it, a lasting sign of his presence. Through the intercession of the saint, and by the grace of Christ, many ailing Christians come to the site seeking healing, and many find relief from their illnesses.

⁴⁴ We should not fail to recall another remarkable sign that the Lord performed through him. One day, as St. Gildas remained in his cell with his fellow brothers, some guests arrived unexpectedly. He welcomed them with joy, led them first in prayer, and offered them every kindness. He personally washed their hands and feet, and shared with them all that he had, giving generously and with love.

⁴⁵ However, he had no wine to serve them. So, he turned to God in prayer. Afterward, he instructed the servants to fill the wine jars with water. Once he had blessed the vessels, the water was miraculously transformed into the finest wine, by the power of God. Everyone present was filled with awe at this wonder. They gave thanks to the Almighty, remembering the promise of Jesus in the Gospel: “Whoever believes in me will do the works I have been doing, and they will do even greater things than these”.

⁴⁶ Even though he was a man of remarkable virtue and greatness—so much so that God worked many miracles through him—he never put himself above others. Instead, he chose humility and saw himself as the least of all. Although he held the role of abbot, he made it a point to set an example of humility for those under his care. In keeping with the Lord’s teaching, “Whoever wants to be great among you must be your servant”, he made himself a servant to everyone.

⁴⁷ He was not content to just hear the words of Jesus without acting on them. When the Lord said, “Learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart”, he took those words to heart and made every effort to live them out. In this way, he followed the Lord’s commands faithfully—just as Scripture says of Moses, that “he was the meekest man on earth at the time”.

⁴⁸ He was also known for his wisdom—both in his teaching and in how he lived. His words were always honest, his prayers constant, and he often kept vigil through the night. He disciplined his body with fasting, bore mistreatment with patience, was warm and approachable in conversation, generous in giving to those in need, and stood out in every kind of virtue.

⁴⁹ He also consistently taught that those who spread heresy should be avoided after being warned once or twice, in keeping with the Scripture: “Reject a divisive person after a first and second warning”. In his sermons, he called people to repentance, urging them to make up for their sins by giving generously—feeding the hungry, giving water to the thirsty, clothing the poor, visiting the sick and those in prison, and even caring for the burial of the dead. He taught that no one should repay evil with evil, that fasting should be embraced with love, and that believers should be steadfast in prayer and vigilant at all times.

⁵⁰ This is how the revered teacher guided everyone—he taught the clergy, the monks, and the laypeople alike. And he never asked anyone to do something he wasn’t already practicing himself. In becoming “all things to all people”, he met each person where they were. He grieved with those who were mourning and celebrated with those who were rejoicing. To the poor and the orphaned, he was a father. To the sorrowful, he was a source of comfort.

⁵¹ When conflicts arose, he worked to restore peace. But he also spoke out strongly against wrongdoing—against murder, adultery, sacrilege, theft, and greed—regardless of a person’s status or power, showing no favoritism.

⁵² He often began by confronting people with passages from the Gospels, the letters of the apostles, and the words of the prophets, warning them of the seriousness of their sins. Yet he always followed this with a call to repentance. And if they turned back with sincere hearts, he assured them with confidence that God’s mercy would still be theirs.

⁵³ About ten years after he had left Britain, the holy man—at the request of fellow monks who had traveled from that land—composed a brief letter-style book. In it, he delivered a strong rebuke to five of the island’s kings, each of whom had fallen into various forms of sin and corruption. Because of the significance of his words, I felt it right to include here a few lines to show the sharp clarity and elegant brevity with which he condemned their wrongdoing. He did not shy away from naming each king and calling out their moral failures.

⁵⁴ He wrote plainly: “Will the citizens remain silent not only about our own leaders’ misdeeds, but even about what other nations now accuse us of? Britain has kings, but they rule like tyrants. It has judges, but they are unjust and irreverent. They often engage in looting and violence, yet their victims are usually the innocent. They go out of their way to seek revenge or offer protection—but almost always on behalf of criminals and thieves. Though they have many wives, those wives are often unfaithful and adulterous. They take oaths easily, yet frequently break them. They make vows, only to betray them soon after. They wage war—not in defense of justice or peace—but by igniting civil conflicts and unjust battles. They hunt down thieves throughout the land with fierce intensity, yet they welcome and even reward the very same kinds of criminals when they dine with them. They give alms generously, but this generosity stands in stark contrast to the massive pile of sins they commit. They sit in positions of judgment, yet they seldom pursue justice or fairness in their rulings. They look down on the innocent and the humble, while seizing every opportunity to glorify the bloodthirsty, the arrogant, murderers, adulterers, and those who hate God—people who, by their very nature, deserve to be condemned and forgotten. They fill their prisons with captives, loading them with chains—not as a matter of rightful punishment, but with cruelty and betrayal. They enter sacred spaces and linger at the altar, only to treat it later with contempt, as if it were nothing more than a pile of dirty stones”.

⁵⁵ And so, the message continues. But now, with the Lord’s help, let us return to the matter we first set out to address.

⁵⁶ During this time, in the northern regions of the land, there lived a tyrant named Conomerus. He was a man led astray by twisted superstition and a monstrous evil. His horrific practice was this: as soon as he learned that his wife was pregnant, he would immediately have her killed.

⁵⁷ After committing this atrocity against several women of noble birth, the people—especially the parents of daughters—began to grieve deeply. Fearing for their own families, many distanced themselves from him, both physically and socially. No wise or prudent person would associate with him anymore, whether in council or in matters of trade or politics. No one wanted to share in the guilt of his wickedness, nor would they carry out his commands.

⁵⁸ Realizing that he had become despised and isolated, Conomerus sent a message to Saint Gildas, asking him to consider his request and listen to what he had to say. But the saint, recognizing the man’s deceitful and evil intent, refused his request entirely. He deliberately kept his distance, so that none of the local nobles or rulers might be misled through any association with him. When the tyrant realized he couldn’t get what he wanted, he took matters into his own hands. According to numerous reliable witnesses, he sent a personal message to a nobleman named Werocus, instructing him to offer his daughter in marriage.

⁵⁹ Werocus, the Count of Vannes, responded without hesitation. He said to the messenger, “How can I hand over my daughter to be murdered by your master’s cursed blade? Haven’t I heard of the women he’s already killed—his own wives? I absolutely will not agree to this. My daughter will not be thrown into danger as long as I have the power to protect her.”

⁶⁰ The messengers returned and reported to the wicked ruler the response Werocus had given. But the tyrant refused to give up. Time and again he pressed Werocus, insisting, “Whatever guarantees or hostages you require, I will provide—only grant me this request.” Werocus replied firmly, “Your request is in vain; your efforts are wasted. Unless you give me Saint Gildas himself as a guarantor, you will never succeed in your petition. I will not entrust my daughter to anyone unless she is given through his hands.” So, the king immediately sent messengers to Saint Gildas, urging him to come quickly. He asked Gildas to receive the daughter from her father, under the saint’s protection, and to give her to him in lawful marriage.

⁶¹ But the saint, disapproving of their words, replied, “You know that your master is a very cunning man, corrupted by a tyrannical and savage nature. If I agree to this and he makes me her guarantor, and then kills the maiden, I will have committed a grave sin before the Lord. I will have caused her parents to be violently separated from their child, leading them to mourn with unbearable sorrow. Still, I will come with you and speak with everyone involved—both the parents and the man who sent you to me.” So he went with them and found that the nobles had already gathered to discuss the matter. While they were deliberating, the maiden’s father said to Gildas, “If you will take responsibility for my daughter, I will trust you and place her in your care. But if you refuse, then this man will never have her.” Saint Gildas replied, “Give her to me, and by God’s protection, I will return her to you safely.” So the tyrant received the maiden to be married to him, and Gildas, strong in his holy virtues, returned to his monastery.

⁶² After the marriage had taken place, the tyrant began to show affection toward his beloved bride. But as soon as he learned she was pregnant, he began plotting to kill her, as he had done in the past. However, he hesitated because of the oath he had sworn to St. Gildas, telling himself that he could not deceive a holy man. He feared bringing down God’s wrath if he dared to murder, with his cursed sword, a woman he had received from the hands of St. Gildas. Yet the devil tempted him with excuses, urging him not to be so afraid of St. Gildas’s holiness that, like a coward and a weakling, he would give up fulfilling his own wicked desires for the sake of a mere monk. Meanwhile, the woman, sensing from many signs that his heart had turned against her because of her pregnancy, became afraid and fled in secret. When her evil husband discovered she was gone, his rage grew even more, and he set out after her. He found her by the roadside, hiding under some leaves, exhausted from her journey. Drawing his sword, he beheaded her, and then returned home.

⁶³ When her father heard what had happened to his daughter, he was overwhelmed with grief and immediately sent a message in great haste to St. Gildas, saying, “Give me back my daughter, for it is because of your involvement that I have lost her. The man who received her in marriage from your hand has killed her with his own sword.” Deeply disturbed by this news, the saint quickly made his way to a small fortress where the tyrant in question used to live, wanting to hear directly from him whether the rumour was true—that he had murdered his wife with his own hands. But when the tyrant saw St. Gildas approaching, he ordered the gatekeeper not to let the saint in under any circumstances, for he knew in his heart that by killing his wife, he had sinned against both God and the holy man.

⁶⁴ But even though the man was fully aware of his guilt, he still refused to humble himself or ask the saint to pray that God would grant him a contrite and humble heart so he could repent for the evil he had done. So when St. Gildas had knocked at the door for a long time and no one would open it—instead, those inside mocked him—he prayed to God, saying that if it was not His will for this man to be transformed for the better, then may it please Him to bring an end to his wickedness. After finishing his prayer, St. Gildas walked around the entire fortress where the wicked tyrant lived, took a handful of earth, and threw it at the building. Immediately, by the will of God, the whole structure collapsed to the ground.

⁶⁵ He then went to the place where the murdered woman lay lifeless, with her unborn child still in her womb, and prayed like this: “Lord God, who formed man from the dust of the earth, and who, in order to rescue him from the power of Satan—into whose dominion he willingly fell by breaking Your command—chose that Your Son, whom You begot before all ages, should die for his sake, I call on You to listen to me. Hear me, O Lord, I beg You, in the name of Your only begotten Son, our Lord Jesus Christ. For it pleased Your Son, our Lord Jesus Christ, to make this promise to those who believe in Him: that if they ask You for anything in His Name, You would not turn away from their prayer, but would listen with the mercy of Your heart.”

⁶⁶ After he had prayed, he took the head and placed it back onto the body, saying, “In the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, Trifina, I say to you: arise, stand on your feet, and tell me what you have seen.” Immediately, she rose up, completely healed and untouched by any corruption. Responding to the saint, she said, “As soon as I was killed, I was carried in an angelic chariot, as if to be taken away and gathered with the band of martyrs; but at your call, I returned to you.”

⁶⁷ Then St. Gildas brought her to her father, and, taking her right hand, returned her to him, saying, “Here is the one you entrusted to me. Watch over her now as your daughter, and also care for the child she carries in her womb. Make sure he is brought up with care once he is born, until he reaches the age of understanding.” But she swore an oath and said, “Father, I will never leave you.” St. Gildas replied, “It is not proper for a woman to follow a monk. For now, stay in your father’s house until the child is born. Once you have given birth, we will take you to a convent, where you can live a life of chastity with other virgins.” The words of the man of God pleased her, and so she stayed a few more days in her father’s home.

⁶⁸ Not long after, when her time came, the woman gave birth to a son, and the news was brought to St. Gildas. He ordered that the child be baptized and named after himself. Once the boy was weaned, Gildas had him educated in the liberal arts. He also arranged for the child’s mother to live in a convent with other women devoted to God. In time, as she served God with chastity, fasting, and prayer, she was called home by the Lord and passed peacefully into blessed rest. Her son, too, became known for his virtues and miracles, and he ended his saintly life in a blessed death. To distinguish him from the other St. Gildas, the Bretons gave him a different name—Trechmorus.

⁶⁹ Because the Creator of all things—who dwells in His saints and performs miracles through them—is glorified and worshipped when the wonders He works through them are told among believers, we thought it right to write about the power God chose to display through His servant Gildas in the region of St. Demetrius. In that area, there was a pool near whose entrance a band of robbers would lie in wait. They would attack those who came near, stripping them naked, beating them, and often leaving them half-dead. The local people were greatly disturbed by these evildoers, but since they were unable to drive them away on their own, they turned to the saint for help. When Gildas arrived at the edge of the pool, he prayed to the Lord, asking Him to block the entrance to the water. As soon as he finished praying, a large mound of earth rose up from the sand, covering the place where the criminals used to gather and scheme. Witnessing this miracle, those who were with the saint gave glory to God and, from that day on, held St. Gildas in great reverence.

⁷⁰ In the same district, there is also a small chapel known to the locals as Mount Coetlann, which means “monastery of the grove.” Certain men who claimed ownership of the land frequently mistreated God’s servants who lived there in quiet contemplation. They accused the monks of cultivating more of the land surrounding the oratory of St. Gildas than had been allotted to them. Wanting everyone to live in peace, the man of God went down to the seashore. There, kneeling down to the ground, he and the faithful companions with him prayed earnestly to the merciful Lord—the One who accomplishes whatever He wills, both in heaven and on earth.

⁷¹ When he rose from prayer, the saint took the staff he had been holding and pressed it into the earth. Then, he began to walk around the perimeter of his oratory. “How good You are, O God of Israel, to those who are pure in heart!” In response to his prayer, and by the command of God, a clear and sparkling spring of water burst forth from the very spot where he had prayed. As the saint walked, the water followed the path of his steps, marking the boundary of the sacred space with undeniable clarity. News of this miracle spread, and believers—even some who still witness it to this day—give heartfelt thanks to the Almighty Lord, who continues to reveal His power through His saints.

⁷² When the merciful God chose to lead St. Gildas from the struggles and burdens of this life into the eternal joy He has promised to those who love Him, He chose to reveal this through a vision delivered by an angel. According to ancient accounts, St. Gildas was at the time in Horata—an island he cherished deeply, and where he had once lived as a hermit. One night, as he slept, an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream and said: “Listen and understand, beloved friend of the Lord Jesus Christ. God has heard your prayers and seen your tears. And now, behold: eight days from today, you will be freed from the weight of the body, and your spiritual eyes will finally behold what your heart has longed for since childhood. You will see the glorious face of the Lord your God. Therefore, strengthen your disciples in the fear and love of God. Teach them, as you always have, to obey His commandments—not just in word, but in action—so that they, too, may enter into the eternal joy He has prepared for those who are faithful.”

⁷³ When morning came, he gathered his disciples and said to them: “My dear children, since I am about to go the way of all humanity, it is right for me to be set free so that I may see God. So, I urge you—be imitators of Christ, as dearly loved children. Live in the love of God, and always keep His words close to your heart. Don’t fall in love with this world or the things it offers, because this world is passing away, along with its desires. Instead, love the Lord Jesus Christ and hold fast to His teachings with all your heart. For He said, ‘If anyone loves Me, they will keep My word, and My Father will love them, and We will come to them and make Our home with them’. So look, my dear ones, at the incredible reward—the deeply desirable gift—that Truth itself, who is Christ, has promised to us. As He said, ‘I am the way, the truth, and the life’. Be assured of this—He will give Himself to us. So let’s not neglect the opportunity to receive Him, to truly make Him our own.”

⁷⁴ “Let your love be constant, because God is love. And whoever lives in love lives in God, and God lives in them. Be intentional about staying humble and gentle, because the Lord says in the Gospel, “Learn from Me, for I am gentle and humble in heart”. And don’t forget to practice patience at all times. For He also says, “By your endurance you will gain your souls”. Live in obedience, just as Christ was obedient—even to the point of death. Be merciful, just as your Father is merciful. Reject all pride, because “God opposes the proud but gives grace to the humble”. Avoid greed, which the Apostle calls idolatry. Also, Stay away from indulgence in luxury, drunkenness, and sexual immorality. As the Apostle warns, “Neither the sexually immoral, nor drunkards, nor the greedy… will inherit the kingdom of God”. So, do everything you can to avoid the things that separate people from God’s kingdom.”

⁷⁵ “Be alert and self-controlled in your prayers at all times, because your enemy, the devil, is prowling around like a roaring lion, looking for someone to devour. Stand firm against him by holding tightly to your faith. Also make every effort to rid your heart of hatred, hostility, and bitterness. Instead, fill your life with patience, kindness, and goodness. There are four essential virtues that no one can be truly wise without: prudence, justice, courage, and self-control. Strive to develop and hold on to these always.”

⁷⁶ With these words and others like them, the holy man encouraged and strengthened his disciples continually for seven days, even though his illness was growing worse and he appeared to be nearing the end of his life. On the eighth day, he asked to be brought into his chapel. There, after offering a prayer, he received the Eucharist—the Body of the Lord. Then, turning to his disciples, he spoke these final words to them:

⁷⁷ “I urge you, my sons, in the name of Christ: do not argue or fight over my earthly remains. As soon as I have given up my spirit, carry me away. Place me in a boat, and under my back lay the stone I used to sleep on. Let none of you stay with me in the boat. Instead, set it adrift on the sea, and let it go wherever God wills. The Lord will choose a place for my burial—wherever it pleases Him. I trust in the Lord that, on the day of resurrection, He will raise me up along with all the faithful. May the God of peace and love be always with you all.”

⁷⁸ When everyone had said “Amen,” he peacefully passed away on January 29th, an elderly man blessed with long life. His disciples took his body and followed his instructions regarding his burial. However, a group from Cornugallia—who made up the majority—tried to take his body back with them to their own land. As they were making plans and discussing how to do this, the ship carrying the saint’s body sank into the sea by the will of God. Though they searched in many places for several days, they were unable to find him. Eventually, they returned to their homeland empty-handed.

⁷⁹ The saint’s disciples from the monastery of Reuvisium also searched for his body, but after three months of fruitless effort, they gathered to seek God’s guidance. Together, they agreed to begin a three-day fast. At the end of the fast, God revealed to one of them when and where the body would be found. When the Rogation Days arrived, they went to pray at a small oratory—a chapel the saint himself had built in honor of the Holy Cross. There, in a creek known as Croes-dy, meaning “the house of the Holy Cross,” they discovered the ship. Inside was the saint’s body, whole and untouched, just as they had placed it when they first set it on the ship.

⁸⁰ When they saw it, they were filled with overwhelming joy. They placed a commemorative stone on the altar at that site, as a lasting witness. Then, with hymns and songs of praise, they carried the saint’s body back to his own monastery. A large crowd of people followed, rejoicing and giving thanks, because they had recovered their beloved protector and spiritual advocate—the one who stood before God on their behalf.

⁸¹ From that day on—May 11th—the people of Vannes have celebrated it each year as a most sacred feast. Even in our own time, we have witnessed the Lord perform many great miracles at the saint’s tomb on this very day. His body was placed in the church he himself had built, located at the old fortress of Reuvisium. There, for many years, the people of Brittany kept it in reverence, and the Lord worked countless wonders through him.

⁸² When the devout King Salomon was brutally murdered by evil men, and the Bretons were fighting among themselves in bitter civil wars, raiding Danes from overseas were laying waste to all of Brittany. At that time, even the people of Gaul were attacking the coastal regions, spreading destruction like a violent hailstorm. Thus, Brittany—which, as we mentioned earlier, was once called Letavia—was being devastated mercilessly, both by its own people and by foreign invaders. Cities, castles, churches, homes, monasteries, and convents were all consumed by fire, until, by the judgment of God, the entire land was reduced to a barren and desolate wilderness. During this period, Alanus and his brother Pasquetenus were ruling over the province of Vannes. This province is called Bro Guerec, named after Guerecus, because when Duke Belpolenus and his army were killed, and Ebracarius, another Frankish duke, had been defeated, Guerecus courageously defended the land. Later, Pasquetenus was captured by the Normans, then ransomed, but was afterwards treacherously murdered by someone. After that, Alanus ruled the province alone, with his sons, as best he could. During this time, two monasteries—Lochmenech, meaning “the place of monks,” and the monastery of St. Gildas—were abandoned, as all their inhabitants were forced to flee and settle elsewhere in the territory of the Bituriges. They carried with them the bodies of saints and nuns as relics, which were, at that time, venerated among the Britons with great celebration and deep emotion.

⁸³ At that time, the monastery of Moriacum—also known as Locmenech—was led by Abbot Taneth, while the monastery of St. Gildas was headed by Dalocus, a man of venerable life. Dalocus buried the remains of St. Gildas—specifically, eight of his larger bones—beneath the altar of the holy church, in his own tomb. These relics have been discovered in our own time. The monks took with them the rest of St. Gildas’s bones, along with the remains of St. Paternus, the bishop of Vannes, and other saints, as well as their books and sacred ornaments. In much the same way, the relics of saints from across all of Brittany were scattered throughout various regions.

⁸⁴ When it pleased the Almighty Lord to restore the churches of the saints in Brittany and to bring the British people—who had been exiled and suffering in foreign lands—back to their own homes, the Bretons regained their strength. Those who had remained in the land and those scattered across other regions came together, took up arms, and courageously fought their enemies. They defeated them both on land and at sea, driving them out from all their territories. At that time, there was a count living in the city of Rennes named Iuchael, also known as Berengar. He had a son named Conan, a noble and valiant man, from whom Geoffrey was descended—himself a vigorous warrior who ruled over all of Brittany. This man appealed to Goslin, who was then the abbot of the monastery of Fleury (Floriacum) and would later become archbishop of the Church of the Bituriges, asking him to send Felix, a monk, to restore the monasteries that had been destroyed in his territory. So, in the year of our Lord 1008, Felix was sent by the abbot to Count Geoffrey and was received with honour. Geoffrey entrusted Felix with the aforementioned abbeys and everything belonging to them, urging and earnestly pleading with him to rebuild them with the greatest dedication. He also promised to reward Felix generously once he returned from a journey he was preparing to undertake. For the prince was at that time hastening to go to Rome to pray. He went on that journey, but did not return, as he died along the way. However, before departing, the prince had entrusted Felix to the care of his wife, his nobles, and his brother Judicaël, the bishop of Vannes, in whose diocese the monasteries were located.

⁸⁵ Let us now return to tell of the miracle performed through the blessed Bishop Paul on a man named Felix. During the time of Abbot Abbo, while Felix was staying at the monastery of Fleury, he became seriously ill and was abandoned by the physician as beyond help. But while he was keeping vigil and praying, Bishop Saint Paul appeared to him, sitting at his bedside in a great light, and said, “How are you, brother? Where do you feel the pain?” Felix replied, “Who are you, my lord?” The figure answered, “I am Bishop Paul, the one you have been seeking.” Felix said, “Oh, my lord, the pain has long troubled me in this side,” and he showed him the spot. The bishop approached, and with his finger, he gently removed a rotten rib from Felix’s side. Holding it up to the light of the lamp, he showed it to him and said, “This will no longer harm you.”

⁸⁶ Saying this, he threw it away and disappeared—along with the radiant light—from before the eyes of the astonished man. But a sweet and refreshing fragrance remained in the room throughout the night. When Felix was restored to health, he was found alone at the nighttime vigil. Everyone was amazed that the man they had expected to find dead was not only alive but well, and they began asking how he had been healed. He told them that Saint Paul had visited him and shared everything the bishop had said—how he had removed a broken and decaying rib from his side. “Here it is,” he said, picking it up from the ground, and he showed it to them all. They were all filled with wonder at what had happened, and together, with the sound of cymbals, they gave praise to the Lord.

⁸⁷ Let us now return to the course of the story. After the death of Duke Geoffrey, Felix wanted to return to his own monastery. However, Duchess Havoise would not allow him to leave. She pleaded with him earnestly, asking him to stay and complete the work her late husband had begun—the restoration of the convents. Because of her persistence, and the urging of her advisors—especially Judicaël, the Bishop of Vannes, who held Felix in deep affection—he agreed to remain. At first, he began by constructing small dwellings in the previously mentioned regions. In that region, many of the churches had no roofs and were partially destroyed. Trees had grown up between the walls, and some had even blocked the doorways completely. At that time, there were no houses for people to live in and no interaction between people— even the churches had become places where wild animals lived. Everyone thought that taking on such a massive project would be hard and exhausting. But he, putting his trust in the Lord, did not hesitate to begin the work, and his hope was not disappointed. Within a few days, good and faithful people, including clergy, came to help him. With their support, he repaired the churches, built homes, and planted vineyards and orchards. Even the children were raised to serve God.

⁸⁸ During this period, the Bretons also rebelled and sparked a series of conflicts. The peasants rose up and joined forces against their lords. However, the nobility, once Count Alain had aligned with them, launched an assault on the peasant forces. They were able to kill, disperse, and drive them off, as the peasants had gone into battle without leadership or careful planning. Later, some members of the nobility themselves turned against Count Alain. But their rebellion failed, because he was neither a coward nor inexperienced in matters of war.

⁸⁹ Amidst all this unrest, Felix decided to return to his monastery, having now spent sixteen years in the region since being sent there by his abbot. But Duchess Havoise acted before he could leave. She sent a message through a man named Filim, who was traveling with Felix, addressed to his abbot. In the letter, she earnestly asked the abbot not to hold Felix back under any circumstances, but instead to bless him as an abbot would and send him back to her. Her sons, Alain and Eudo, were now of age and ready to fulfill all the promises their father had made to Felix.

⁹⁰ When Abbot Goslin finished reading the letter, he summoned the monk Felix and asked him why he had returned and why he had abandoned the community entrusted to his care. Felix replied, “Because I cannot serve God there in peace and quiet.” The abbot responded, “Do you expect to find in your homeland what Christ Himself did not find in His? If you want to follow Christ, then you must also live as He lived. As the apostle says, ‘It is through many hardships that we must enter the kingdom of God’. So, my dear son, wherever you are, endure difficulties with patience. Be obedient to us, just as you vowed to God when you made your monastic profession. Accept the responsibility and blessing of an abbot, so that you, together with those under your care, may walk the path that leads to eternal life.”

⁹¹ Despite continuing to protest and insisting he was unworthy of the role, the abbot—who, as mentioned earlier, was also a bishop—took hold of him, led him to the altar, and on July 4th officially appointed him as abbot. Once Felix had received the blessing of his former abbot as well as that of the monastic community, he set out with letters of recommendation addressed to the rulers of Brittany and to the bishop of Vannes. When he found himself unsure which of two locations would be better suited to establish his abbey, he sought advice from Duke Alain and the bishop of Vannes. They gathered the local nobility and some bishops to help make the decision.

⁹² After deliberation, they chose the monastery of Saint Gildas. This monastery was not only older but also located in a region known for its fertile land, producing abundant grain, wine, and fruit. It was also rich in seasonal harvests of large fish, making it an especially favorable site.

⁹³ At that time, in the same region, there lived a devout man named Ehoarn, who had dedicated himself to a solitary life of prayer. His home was next to the church, where he lived quietly in devotion. One night, a group of robbers broke in and dragged him from his dwelling. One of them, a man named Leopardus, grabbed an axe and struck Ehoarn on the head, killing him at the threshold of the church. Immediately afterward, Leopardus was overcome by an evil spirit and collapsed to the ground. When he got up, he pulled out a knife and stabbed himself in the chest. His companions had to restrain him quickly—otherwise, he would have ended his own life. They bound him and took him home, but from that day on, his mind was never sound again.

⁹⁴ For the next twenty years, we saw him wander about, never wearing proper clothing—not a tunic, not a shirt, not even shoes. In all seasons, whether summer or winter, he walked the roads completely naked, in a strange and pitiful state. If someone, moved by compassion, gave him a piece of clothing, he would never simply take it and walk away. Instead, if he happened to be sitting under a tree—or in any place at all—he would immediately begin tearing it apart. If it was made of wool or linen, he would unravel it thread by thread right there on the spot. If it was made of leather, he would cut it down until nothing was left.

⁹⁵ So he wandered for years, completely naked, exposed to the blistering heat of summer and the unbearable cold of winter—both at home and wherever else he went. Oh, the indescribable mercy of Christ! Oh, how vast His goodness and compassion! And how glorious are the merits of Saint Gildas! In him we see both justice and mercy at work: his sufferings served to correct his past wrongs and act as a warning to others, so they wouldn’t dare to commit the same sins and suffer the same consequences. But we trust in God’s mercy—that through this suffering, the man was ultimately saved. For as Scripture says, “God does not punish twice for the same offense”.

⁹⁶ As the festival of Saint Gildas approached—the day commemorating the recovery of his body—people from all directions gathered eagerly to celebrate. It was a day of joy and reverence, and crowds poured in from every region. At that time, a man who had been bedridden with a serious illness for a long while saw his friends and neighbors hurrying off to the celebration. Inspired by their excitement, he cried out and begged them to take him to the holy site where Saint Gildas was buried. He was certain that if he could only touch the grave of the saint, he would be healed. He declared this with deep conviction, insisting that his faith in the saint’s power gave him this hope. Moved by his plea, his friends carried him to the burial place and laid him before the grave of Saint Gildas. But while the night vigils were being solemnly observed, and the sacred chants echoed around him, something strange happened. The man, lying there before the grave, suddenly stretched out and went rigid—like someone who had died. His cries of pain stopped. His eyes appeared destroyed. His hands, feet, and chest grew cold. It seemed that every part of him had fallen into death.

⁹⁷ The crowd that had gathered around the man began to cry out, “He’s dead—take him away!” The people pushed and jostled each other, growing more frantic by the minute. For nearly three hours, the press of the crowd was so great that no one could get close enough to touch him, let alone move him. Finally, one of the monks—named Junior—managed to push through. He came forward holding the staff of the saint, and with solemn reverence, he traced the sign of the cross over the man three times. Then, in front of everyone and to their complete astonishment, the man stirred. He sat up and said, “Did you not see Saint Gildas? He was standing on that stone, and he lifted me up with his head!” Before all eyes, the man rose—his body healed, his face joyful. Taking a candle in his hand, he walked to the altar and placed it there in thanksgiving. The same man who had been brought to the saint’s grave, weak and unable to stand, now walked away on his own feet—restored, rejoicing. Later, when I recounted this miracle to a group of nobles outside the church at Plomorcat, the man himself was present. He confirmed everything I said, swearing an oath that it had happened exactly as I described.

⁹⁸ The event became widely known throughout all of Brittany. Whenever disease struck heavily in any area or parish, people would flee to his most sacred monastery, trusting completely that God would bring healing there. Because of this, large groups often traveled from Ilfintinc as well. Among them was a man named Dongual, who was suddenly struck down by the same deadly illness. He collapsed outside the church at Sarthau. When his companions reached the saint’s tomb, they asked me to send a horse to bring him to the monastery. I agreed and sent one. He was brought there, but he was too weak to stand, so he was taken to a nearby house where some friends lived. His condition was horrifying—his body was ravaged by the illness, and he was vomiting blood. No one expected him to live through the night; everyone thought he would die at any moment. The entire congregation came to see him. They prayed earnestly to the Lord on his behalf and anointed him with oil, following the teaching of Scripture. From that moment, he began to recover—slowly at first, but steadily. Within a few days, his strength returned, and soon he was fully restored to health.

⁹⁹ Meanwhile, his friends, thinking he had died, told his wife that he had been buried at the church of St. Gildas. She came to offer alms for the sake of her husband’s soul. But when she arrived, expecting to mourn the dead, she found him alive—and not just alive, but completely well. Truly, O God, this is how You work through Your saints! You alone perform such great wonders. And so, the man who had come near death, filled with sorrow, returned home full of joy and in perfect health, with his wife by his side. I saw him not long ago—still well, giving thanks to God, and praising the miracles worked through St. Gildas. He himself tells the story of all that happened, just as we have shared it here.

¹⁰⁰ We shouldn’t ignore the struggles—and the nature of those struggles—that our former leaders faced in this holy monastery during their time. The enemy of humanity, seeing that God’s servants had begun to settle in a place that had long been abandoned, and realizing they intended to reclaim it from him, returned to his familiar tactics. He tried to terrify and drive them out with ghosts and terrifying visions during the night.

¹⁰¹ One night, for example, while some young monks were seated at a table reciting psalms, the enemy himself appeared among them. He began to interfere with the candlelight, reaching his hand between two of the boys, then pulling it back—again and again—persistently disrupting them until eventually, the candle went out. The appearance of the spirit’s hand—and barely visible arms—was black and covered in coarse hair. The boys were overcome with terror and completely confused. Their names were Ratfred and Mangis, and the third young man who was instructing them was named Rannulf.

¹⁰² An old man named Jovethen, who had been watching over them, saw their fear and said, “Make the sign of the holy cross, boys, and recite the psalms of David.” At that moment, the evil spirit blew out the faintly burning candle. It let out a mocking laugh, then rushed through a nearby pile of stones, causing a great crash that sent a wave of fear through them. Later that night, the spirit roamed back and forth, moving dishes that had been left out in the refectory, disturbing the peace and keeping the residents awake. When a servant went to retrieve a small vessel that had been filled with wine, he discovered it was empty. Yet, no trace of spilled wine could be found anywhere nearby.

¹⁰³ Felix had not been present at the time. But when he returned and heard the brothers describe the terrifying events of the night, he took water mixed with salt, blessed it, and sprinkled it throughout the house, both inside and out. From that day forward, by God’s grace, the dwelling remained free from further disturbance.

¹⁰⁴ At that time, among the priors of the holy abbey, there was a monk named Gingurianus. Though he was a lay brother, not ordained, he was filled with the Holy Spirit and known for every virtue. He had lived a life of purity and simplicity, serving God with heartfelt devotion within the monastery. When the Lord chose to test Gingurianus’s endurance through physical suffering—and to set him as an example for others—He revealed to him, by the Holy Spirit, the time of his departure from this life.

¹⁰⁵ One day, Gingurianus came before Abbot Felix and the gathered community. With great humility, he asked forgiveness from everyone present, apologizing for any wrongs he may have caused. Those around him, regarding him as a blameless and sincere man, reassured him and spoke kindly in return. But he responded: “May the Lord forgive your unknowing hearts and grant you pardon for your sins. Know this, dear brothers: from today onward, I can no longer walk among you or remain here. I ask for your love—please remember me in your prayers, and anoint me with holy oil.” The community was astonished—Gingurianus appeared to be in perfect health. Yet he kept pleading with them, again and again, to anoint him. He persisted in his request for as long as his voice could still be heard.

¹⁰⁶ After completing the chapter meeting, he brought down his tools and equipment and laid them at the abbot’s feet, saying, “Here, my lord, is the obedience you commanded me to fulfill. Please entrust it now to one of the brothers.” This holy man had been in charge of the beehives from the beginning of his time there, faithfully caring for a large number of them. Later, during the celebration of the Mass, just after the sign of peace, he came forward to the altar and received Holy Communion from the priest. Then, placing both hands over his chest, he lay down on the step of the altar. He was gently carried by the brothers to the infirmary. Just as he had asked them earlier, he was immediately anointed with the sacrament of the sick. From that day forward, just as he had foretold, he was struck with paralysis. For a full year he remained bedridden, unable to turn himself over or even lift his hand to his mouth.

¹⁰⁷ For a full year, it pleased the Lord—through His angel—to make known clearly the day of this holy man’s death. On the morning of that day, he called the monk Riwal to his side and said: “Brother, I ask you to always remind our community to give thanks to God continually, to rejoice always, and to know with confidence that last night, during their night vigil, the Archangel Michael was with them. Before the vigil was completely over, he appeared to me in the form of a beautiful child, shining with a radiant light, and told me who he was. He said to me, ‘Do not be afraid. Prepare yourself, for when the light of this day breaks, you will leave your body and enter into a better life.’ After saying this, he entered the church through the east window, and throughout the entire vigil, his brilliant light remained there and did not fade.”

¹⁰⁸ He continued, “Now, my dearest brother, share this with the others. Tell them what I’ve told you. Let them know that I thank them for their kindness and the grace they’ve shown me throughout this past year. Please bring me Holy Communion, and begin watching for my death from the hour of Vespers.”

¹⁰⁹ And so, after Vespers, he called his servant and said, “Gather my brothers, for the time has come. I am about to leave this life.” When the entire community had gathered around him, just as he had said, he peacefully departed this life to be with the Lord—on the exact hour he had foretold—on the 28th of September.

¹¹⁰ During that period, there was also a man named Gulstan who lived in this sacred monastery. He led such a holy and admirable life that he is still worthy of being remembered today. Though he was not a monk but a lay brother, he never stopped praying—day and night, he recited psalms and prayers that he had memorized. He kept watch through the night, and whether it was the height of summer or the dead of winter, even in his frail old age, he rarely spent more than three hours in bed.

¹¹¹ In his youth, Gulstan had been part of a group of pirates, but he was rescued from that life by Felix—a man who at the time wasn’t yet a monk but lived as a hermit on the island of Ushant. From Felix, Gulstan learned a new way of life: simple in food and drink, but deeply committed to prayer and nighttime vigils. He held fast to that lifestyle to the very end of his days. It pleased the Lord to honor Gulstan even while he was still alive. His reputation spread far and wide, especially among the sailors of the region, who often spoke of his holiness and praised him for his devotion.

¹¹² It pleased the Lord to perform so many signs and miracles through him that they were nearly impossible to count or even describe. He passed away on November 27, in the monastery of St. Peter of Maillé, located within the fortress of Bellum-Videre, where he had gone because of the spiritual and practical benefits of the community there. When news spread—announced by the town crier—that the holy Gulstan had died (he had passed peacefully in the middle of the night), noblemen, their wives, and everyone who heard the news leapt from their beds. With great urgency, they made their way to the monastery, carrying candles and lanterns to honor the man of God. The crowd was so large that the house could barely hold them all.

¹¹³ Seeing the many gifts being brought—valuable ornaments, generous donations, and a great number of candles laid around the body of the holy man—the monks of St. Philibert advised those present to help transfer his body to their church, so that he could be honored there more fittingly. While the monks at the house where the monk had died insisted on keeping his body, and the servants also resisted any attempt to move it until it could be returned to their own monastery, another group took advantage of the commotion among the gathered crowd. They stole the body, along with all the relics and ceremonial lights surrounding it, and transported everything to their own church.

¹¹⁴ Over the next three days, they gathered a significant amount of money from offerings made by pilgrims and devotees. On the fourth day, they buried him. When news of this reached his home monastery, Abbot Vitalis immediately traveled to the site and respectfully requested that the body of his monk be returned. His request, however, was met with silence—not out of reverence for the saint, but because the monks who had taken the body were profiting greatly from the influx of money being offered at his grave.

¹¹⁵ Determined to right the wrong, Abbot Vitalis brought his complaint to Isembard, the Bishop of Poitiers, publicly protesting the theft of the monk’s body. Since the monks involved had refused to obey the bishop’s earlier commands, the bishop summoned both them and their abbot to appear before his synod. He also ordered Abbot Vitalis to attend. When both sides arrived and presented their arguments at the synod, the bishop instructed the attending abbots and distinguished members of the clergy to… [Text lost]