Mr. and Mrs. Teabody Make a Pilgrimage

“Going on pilgramage without change of heart brings no reward from God. For it is by practicing virtue and not mere motion of the feet that we will be brought to Heaven.” The Book of Lismore

Cloister at Ballintubber Abbey

Many, many decades ago, Mrs. Teabody sat in one of her upper level college English classes called “Chaucer: Poet and Philosopher.” Great, enduring literature has lost much of its charm for nascent scholars in the twenty-first century, of course, as it can be challenging and opaque. Recent interviews with potential high school English teachers reveal that this current crop “don’t like” Shakespeare or find Chaucer “boring.” In the 1960’s, however, folks still thought of college as a means to learning as much as possible about the world through its history and letters. A college education was not merely some sort of enforced residency and financial exchange for a few letters to place after one’s name on a job resume. Or maybe Mrs. Teabody is just ticked off that she had to work so hard?  Here is the Prologue to The Canterbury Tales in Middle English for your enjoyment.

WHAN that Aprille with his shoures soote

The droghte  of Marche hath perced to the roote,

And bathed every veyne in swich  licour,

Of which vertu engendred is the flour;

Whan Zephirus eek with his swete breeth         

Inspired hath in every holt and heeth

The tendre croppes,  and the yonge sonne

Hath in the Ram his halfe cours y-ronne,

And smale fowles maken melodye,

That slepen al the night with open ye,         

(So priketh hem nature in hir corages:

Than longen folk to goon on pilgrimages,

And palmers for to seken straunge strondes,

To ferne halwes, 9 couthe 10 in sondry londes;

And specially, from every shires ende         

Of Engelond, to Caunterbury they wende,

The holy blisful martir for to seke,

Chaucer was difficult. Dr. Lloyd Hannawalt was my professor and he loved Chaucer. He also loved attractive young girls and he amused himself regularly by trapping them into their own alleys of unpreparedness. I vividly recall his barrage of questions directed toward me one fine October morning so many, many years ago. On this particular occasion I WAS prepared and I answered his questions with the confidence of one who HAD prepared. My cross examination went like this:

Mrs. Teabody's Chaucer textbook

Hanawalt: "Miss Henry, where does the pilgrimage begin?"

Miss Henry: "The Tabard Inn, Sir."

Hanawalt: "Aha, and who was in charge at the Tabard Inn?"

Miss Henry: "That’s an easy one, Sir. It was Henry Bailey."

Hanawalt: “Close enough I suppose," . . . but there was a tone in his words hinting at the demise of civilization that accompanies answers that are only “close enough."

Hanawalt continued: “And how many pilgrims were on the journey?"

Miss Henry: "Quite a few, Sir. Perhaps 15? 16?"

Hanawalt: "15? 16? Purposeful vagueness? No, that is QUITE wrong, Miss Henry. Ha, I suspected that the thin stream of knowledge flowing beneath that shroud of chestnut hair would soon run dry.” Cue lecherous laugh; cue classmates’ amusement.


In spite of my almost daily humiliation at the hands of this lecherous old fart, I loved my Chaucer class as the focus was on The Canterbury Tales, a compendium of stories told by a group of pilgrims to pass the time and amuse themselves on a group horseback ride that began at the Tabard Inn in south London and ended at Canterbury Cathedral, some sixty miles away, the holy blissful martyr for to seeke. The destination afforded these pilgrims the chance to visit the shrine of Saint Thomas a Becket with the goal of physical and/or emotional healing. Than longen folke to go on pilgramages. The only pilgrims I knew of prior to my study of Chaucer were those of Thanksgiving, the buckle-hatted, buckle-shoed ones who crossed the ocean on terrifyingly tiny ships to come to America. I had never heard of religious pilgrimages before although such journeys have always played a part in the spiritual renewal for believers.


On Tuesday,September 20, 2016 the Teabodys and Company devoted almost a full day to learning about the influence of Saint Patrick and the mountain named for him in County Mayo in Ireland. We also learned of  spiritual pilgrimages that take place every year beginning at Ballintubber Abbey and proceeding twenty-two miles to the coast and Croag Patrick, which is the third highest peak in Mayo. Also known as “the Reek”, it is best known for its association with Saint Patrick, Ireland’s patron saint, who is said to have fasted for 40 days at the summit in 441 A.D. Croagh Patrick has been a pilgrimage destination since pre-Christian times and for the past thirty years the curate of Ballintubber has led like-minded folks on a quest for spiritual renewal.

Croag Patrick twenty-two miles in the distance

We were fortunate enough to meet former Mayo Man of the Year and longtime curate of Ballintubber Abbey, Father Fahey who approves of being called a pilgrim, as well as a priest. His assistant Muriel took us beyond the walls of Ballintubber Abbey where stone flags have been uncovered that lead the way along the Tóchar Phádraig Pilgrim Path to the holy mountain. Pilgrims between Ballintubber and Croag Patrick pass through a natural gallery of artefacts, which unfurls the cross-millennial story of Irish spirituality. Hundreds of folks participate and some of them make the full journey in bare feet, scrabbling over stones and up steep inclines to join in prayer and thanksgiving at the summit. 

Croag Patrick

Twenty-two miles on foot followed by the climb to a formidable peak afterwards? We are too soft, too disinclined, too cold, too busy and, may we say, too old even though Curate Fahey is not a young man. We  visitors to this sacred place are, to a person, too daunted.

When Chaucer’s Harry-- not Henry-- Bailey met with the disparate group of pilgrims at the Tabard Inn, he proposed that the pilgrims pass their journey by telling stories, and it is through their tales that Chaucer lets us know that even the most devout of pilgrims start out on a journey with the best of intentions but along the way revert to their bickering, coarse, self-absorbed ways. In fact of the eight members representing the ecclesiastical order among Chaucer’s pilgrims the Pardoner tells the most viscous tale of greed ending with a sales pitch to his captive audience to buy their salvation from him in the form of religious bits and bobs of dubious origins. How much easier it is then to PURCHASE one’s way to salvation through the exchange of money.

In spite of myself and all my own twenty-first century sensibilities, I am profoundly moved by our visit to Ballintubber and our subsequent visit to Croag Patrick.  I am heartened to learn that  contemporary pilgrims walk the walk barefoot, climb the mountain in spite of its loose stones and precipitous paths and retain - - at least for twenty-two miles - -a changed heart .I am grateful to have had the chance to participate - - even as an outsider - - in  this use of time and energy dedicated to spiritual development, to make this pilgrimage for the purpose of unleashing all the better parts of the human spirit.