In 1061, the Blessed Virgin Mary appeared in a series of dreams to Richeldis de Faverches, a young noblewoman of the village of Walsingham in Norfolk, England, in which she took Richeldis to the House of the Annunciation in Nazareth, the site of the Incarnation of Our Lord, and asked her to build a replica of the house in England as a perpetual memorial to the annuncuation.
Richeldis chose a location and commissioned the construction of the house, but the builders were unable to complete their task. Richeldis spent the night in prayer and, in the morning, she was surprised by the sound of beautiful music. Following the sound, she discovered a perfectly constructed house on a second site from which she saw angels leaving and ascending to heaven.
An image of Our Lady, to be known as ‘Our Lady of Walsingham,’ was later installed in the Holy House. A priory arose around the house and a second chapel, the ‘Slipper Chapel,’ was constructed an English mile from the site. It was there that pilgrims confessed their sins, heard Mass, and removed their shoes to continue barefoot for the final mile of their journey to ‘England’s Nazareth.’
Many miracles took place at Walsingham and the shrine became one of the greatest in all of Christendom. For generations, the kings and queens of England sponsored and visited the shrine, including Henry VIII who saw to the glazing of the priory windows. Henry’s wife, Catherine of Aragon, was a regular pilgrim.
In 1534, Henry left and outlawed the Catholic Church. A great persecution began and many holy martyrs were made. Four years later, the priory at Walsingham was destroyed and looted, the Holy House was burnt to the ground, and the image of Our Lady was, reportedly, dragged to London and burnt at Chelsea in the presence of Thomas Cromwell along with other holy images.
After a time, the village of Walsingham returned to relative obscurity, but the faithful remembered. Some years later, Sir (now Saint) Philip Howard, upon visiting the ruins in the company of Elizabeth I, was moved to pen ‘A Lament for Our Lady’s Shrine at Walsingham’ (see below). Howard converted to the Catholic Church and died a martyr at Tower Hill, London.
In 1829, nearly three hundred years after the beginnings of the persecutions, the Catholics of England were again permitted to practice the faith and thoughts soon turned to the revival of the ancient devotion to Our Lady of Walsingham. Walsingham sprang to life again in a wonderful way. In 1896, a woman named Charlotte Boyd, influenced by the Oxford Movement, purchased the then-derelict Slipper Chapel. She soon after became a Catholic, restored the chapel, and returned it to the Catholic Church. The next year, Pope Leo XIII re-established Walsingham as a Catholic shrine. In 1934, the first public mass since the destruction of the shrine was celebrated there. And, in 2020, a rededication of England as the ‘Dowry of Mary’ at last took place.
Devotion to Our Lady under the title of ‘Our Lady of Walsingham’ is an indispensable part of our English patrimony. She is, for us, not a distant memory; she represents not a bygone glory but a future one: the re-conversion of England and her children, including Canada, in the Anglosphere. Most Sacred Heart of Jesus, have mercy upon us. Our Lady of Walsingham, remember us. Regna in cordibus nostris! Reign in our hearts! Amen.
A LAMENT FOR OUR LADY’S SHRINE AT WALSINGHAM
St. Philip Howard
Whom should I choose
But the Queen of Walsingham
To be my guide and muse.
Then, thou Prince of Walsingham,
Grant me to frame
Bitter plaints to rue thy wrong,
Bitter woe for thy name.
Bitter was it so to see
The seely sheep
Murdered by the ravenous wolves
While the shepherds did sleep.
Bitter was it, O to view
The sacred vine,
Whilst the gardeners played all close,
Rooted up by the swine.
Bitter, bitter, O to behold
The grass to grow
Where the walls of Walsingham
So stately did show.
Such were the worth of Walsingham
While she did stand,
Such are the wracks as now do show
Of that Holy Land.
Level, level, with the ground
The towers do lie,
Which, with their golden glittering tops,
Pierced once to the sky.
Where were gates are no gates now,
The ways unknown
Where the press of peers did pass
While her fame was blown.
Owls do scrike where the sweetest hymns
Lately were sung,
Toads and serpents hold their dens
Where the palmers did throng.
Weep, weep, O Walsingham,
Whose days are nights,
Blessings turned to blasphemies,
Holy deeds to despites.
Sin is where Our Lady sat,
Heaven is turned to hell,
Satan sits where Our Lord did sway
Walsingham, O farewell!
