The thread about the Beechmount Institute, home of the Edinburgh Radium Bomb

A couple of things happened recently. A fire at the former Corstorphine Hospital prompted me to read up and write about the history of that establishment and it was also the annual Christian Aid bumper booksale in Edinburgh, at which I picked up an excellent history of the Royal Infirmary of Edinburgh1 (amongst many other things.) These circumstances converged to pique my interest in Beechmount, a grand mansion house which was, for a short time at least, the exotic and atomic sounding National Radium Centre and a pioneer in the field of radiotherapy.

Beechmount, estate agent’s photo. © 2025 Scarlett Land & Development

Beechmount, set amongst 8 acres of woodland, was built in 1900 in an Italianate style to designs by Messrs McArthy & Watson as the private residence of Sir George and Lady Mary Anne Anderson. The land was feud from the Beechwood Mains estate at Murrayfield and its name was a simple amalgam of the neighbouring properties of Beechwood and Belmont.

1905 Ordnance Survey 1:25 inch map of Edinburghshire, centred on Beechmount (left), Beechwood (centre) and Belmont (right). Reproduced with the permission of the National Library of Scotland

Sir George was treasurer of the Bank of Scotland from 1898 to 1917, which explains how the coat of arms of that institution came to be found above the house’s main door and grand fireplace. He was the first Scottish “banker knight“, his title conferred for services to his industry. After his retirement in 1917, the Andersons spent their retirement at Beechmount as respected members of Edinburgh society. Sir George died there on December 1st 1923, aged 78. Lady Anne survived him before she too passed away in the house on 26th May 1926, aged 80. Her husband had intended that the house be left to his bank as an official residence for its treasurer but Lady Anne instead bequeathed it to the Royal Infirmary of Edinburgh. She recommended it be used as a convalescent home for servicemen injured during World War I but gave the hospital managers final discretion as to its use. In addition, £5,000 was left to them to help adapt the property to its new purpose.

Sir George Anderson, 1911 photographic portrait by Bassano & Vandyk. © National Portrait Gallery, London

And that may have been that for the Beechmount story had it not been for the rapid development of a new field of medicine. In 1926, the Infirmary had been able to purchase 500mg of the radioactive element Radium – a substantial proportion of the entire global supply of it at that time – as the result of a donation of £5,000. It began to experiment in its use for the treatment of “malignant disease“; cancer. Prior to this, the only known treatment was surgical removal of tumours and the new branch is what we now call Radiotherapy. To begin with, Radium treatments were undertaken in the main buildings of the Infirmary at Lauriston Place by introducing tiny amounts of the element directly into tumours using needles, different coloured threads attached to them indicating the radioactive strength. However it soon became clear that a specialised unit dedicated to the therapy would be desirable and in 1928 it was decided that Lady Anderson’s bequest should be fitted out as such; the Beechmount Radium Institute.

The medical promise of Radium was great but so too were the costs, dangers and difficulties associated with its use. As a result, in 1929 the government established the Radium Trust to source and hold supplies of the wonder material for the nation and the National Radium Commission to oversee its regulation and distribution. The Commission did not want to deal purely with hospitals and so in 1930 a joint partnership between the Royal Infirmary and the Faculty of Medicine of the University of Edinburgh was set up to combine their teaching and research in the field in order that they could mutually benefit from the national supply. In the meantime £11,000 was spent on the Beechmount project and the new facility, with 36 in-patient beds, was opened in October 1932. To begin with patients continued to be treated at the Infirmary and were sent to the new annexe for their pre- and post-treatment convalescent care, however the entire process was soon centralised at the Institute.

The Beechmount Radium Institute, photograph in the Nursing Times, March 1937

The facility was overseen by the respected surgeon John James McIntosh (J.J.M.) Shaw, a military doctor, pioneer in reconstructive plastic surgery and member of both the Radium Trust and Commission. Its first matron was Margaret Colville Marshall, later “Lady Superintendent” of the Infirmary and awarded the OBE for this service. From his base at Beechmount, J.J.M. oversaw the establishment of the Cancer Control Organisation for Edinburgh and Southeast Scotland in 1934, a group of influential (and wealthy) members of society to help organising towards the running costs of the Institute. That same year the Radium Commission approved the Infirmary’s proposal that Beechmount become the National Radium Centre for southeast Scotland, the first of five such centres proposed for the country.

Beechmount on a 1939 Post Office map of Edinburgh, incorrectly labelled as the “East of Scotland Radium Research Institute”. Reproduced with the permission of the National Library of Scotland

With the support of the Commission an additional 80omg of Radium was acquired and combined with the existing supply to form a mass unit of the material that was called a “Radium Bomb“. This made history as the first such Bomb outside of London and meant that treatments could be made indirectly, focussing the emitted radiation towards the tumour from a few inches away, rather than introducing it directly on needles. This new method was far more efficient and effective and was far safer for both the patient and the medical staff. The Commission also provided funding to pay for the running costs of the Bomb and to safely maintain and house it.

Radium Bomb from Westminster Hospital, London, in the early 1930s, built by E. Rock Carling. The gram of Radium is housed in the egg-shaped, lead-shielded container on the left. It is controlled from a distance by the operator on the right, who can position the head and then open a shutter in the “Bomb” housing to expose the tumour to radiation for a precise amount of time. CC-by-SA 4.0, from the Science Museum’s Wellcome Trust Collection.

In 1936, J.J.M. reported that “treatment of malignant disease in certain situations such as the throat by means of the radium mass unit or ‘bomb’ has surpassed anything previously known“. He was joined at this time by Dr Margaret (Peggy) Tod as Honorary Associate Assistant Surgeon. Tod stayed for only a year before moving on to become the Deputy Director of the Holt Radium Institute in Manchester, but made “an outstanding contribution to the pioneering work at Beechmount“. The Infirmary’s capacity to administer radiotherapy increased exponentially as a result of dedicating Beechmount to it; in 1939 it reported over 15,000 treatments had been administered, up from only 907 just five years previously.

Margaret Colville Marshall, 1895-1995, obituary photograph.

From 1937, the matron was Jean Ritchie and she served in this post until 1939 when the Institute was closed “for the duration” and re-purposed as a convalescent Auxiliary Hospital; this scheme was directly funded by central government and allowed patients to be removed from the main Infirmary thus freeing up capacity there for dedicated military use or for civilians injured as a result of air raids. The Radium Bomb was removed to the Infirmary and buried at the bottom of a 40 foot deep well shaft to avoid it resulting in a “dirty bomb” in the event it was hit by an air raid. Sadly, Dr Shaw died on wartime active service with the Royal Army Medical Corps in Cairo in September 1940, aged 54, having contracted dysentery while serving as the Consultant Surgeon to the Army GHQ.

Colonel J. J. M. Shaw in his Royal Army Medical Corps uniform. Picture uploaded to Ancestry by Martin Bainbridge.

After the war, Radiotherapy in Edinburgh was concentrated at the Western General Hospital and Beechmount was not returned to that use. Instead it remained as a 46 bed convalescent home, operated in tandem with the Corstorphine Home and attached to the Royal Infirmary. In 1974, reorganisation of the medical bureaucracy saw Beechmount detached from the Infirmary and grouped in with other small district hospitals in the Lothians to provide specialist geriatric convalescent care.

One long-standing problem of Beechmount was that the building was accessible from the main road only by a very steep set of stairs or a driveway with multiple hairpin bends. In 1969 an ambulance driver did not correctly apply the brakes of his vehicle resulting in it careering 50 yards down the embankment before progress was arrested by a mature tree. Fortunately the occupants, Mrs Ella Hamersley and Mr Charles Baker, suffered only minor injuries. For the benefit of less mobile visitors to the hospital, members of the Corstorphine Rotary Club used their own cars to provide a shuttle service of rides up and down the gradient during visiting hours.

Beechmount House, estate agent’s photo. The modern wing at the back was that built for staff accommodation when it was converted for medical use © 2025 Scarlett Land & Development

In 1987 the Lothian Health Board denied that it had plans to either close Beechmount Hospital or convert it into a unit for the specialised treatment of patients with HIV/AIDS. However the following year it proposed the closure and sale of the hospital amid a widespread rationalisation and cost cutting plan. The Board cited the fact that the facility was costing £360,000 a year to run, its opponents countered that the running costs of convalescent hospital beds was only a third of that at major hospitals like the Royal Infirmary or the Western General. But the site was potentially very valuable to developers and with the support of the Secretary of State for Scotland, in what the Daily Record dubbed the “Sick Sale of the Century“, Scotland’s health boards were backed from the top to dispose of a swathe of surplus property on the open market to raise money for their capital budgets. Beechmount was closed in 1989 and the house and grounds were to be sold the following year for £1.8 million. The sale fell through however, as did a scheme to convert it into a Hotel. In 1993 the Health Board intended to build a new dental hospital at Beechmount but found it could not afford the renovation costs of £6 million. The premises were in the interim leased to the Scottish Wildlife Trust who used it for offices and returned to the market and finally sold by the Health Board in 1996, the former staff accommodation being converted into apartments and returned to residential use. It was on the market again in 2018 for offers over £4.5 million but although it eventually sold, it still appears to be without a purpose.

Story of a Great Hospital. The Royal Infirmary of Edinburgh 1729-1929, by A. Logan Turner. ↩︎

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The thread about the Corstorphine Convalescent Home; “To the Glory of God, for the Welfare of the Poor”

Corstorphine Hospital may have been shut for over a decade, but it (briefly) made the news earlier this week as a result of a fire in the abandoned building. I had a front-row seat as I happened to cycle past on my way to work; by which time it was fortunately under the control of the Fire Brigade before it had a chance to have properly taken hold.

An ominous cloud of smoke rising from the former Corstorphine Hospital on 14th May 2025. Photo © Self

The building was first opened on 2nd August 1867 as the Convalescent Home for the Royal Infirmary of Edinburgh. Five acres of the Meadowhouse Farm had been feud from landowner Sir William Hanmer Dick-Cunyngham bt. the previous year, allowing the institution to be set back from the road on a gentle, south-facing slope for the best sunlight and vistas across to the Pentland Hills.

1893 OS Map of Edinburghshire, centred on Corstorphine Convalescent Home

It was a fairly plain building to designs by Messrs Peddie & Kinnear. It originally had 44 beds in two wings, 26 for men and 18 for women, with a service block in the centre that extended to the rear. It was intended to accommodate patients from the Infirmary who were recovering after operations and treatment, for periods of around 3 weeks. It did not however deal with infectious diseases cases, as these were dealt with by separate hospitals. The extended natures of most stays, along with the fact that patients may be paying for the privilege, meant that the standard of accommodation was good; a mix of private rooms and small wards with two or three beds. Space per “inmate” (as the patients were termed) was also very generous in the name of airborne disease control. The decorative stone was brought from Dunsmore Quarry near Stirling with the infill from nearby Hailes Quarry. Heating was by open fires and there was as yet no piped water supply in the district of Corstorphine and so a well was sunk in the grounds.

Scanned elevation drawing of the original Corstorphine Convalescent Home. © Courtesy of HES (Records of Dick Peddie and McKay, architects, Edinburgh, Scotland)

The new Home allowed the variety of makeshift – and often inappropriate – convalescent houses in the city to be closed and all work centred on a modern building; well staffed by medical professionals, in a pleasant setting on the outskirts of the noise, smells and diseases of the city. It was funded to the tune of £12,000 by an anonymous philanthropic gentleman who did not want his name attached to it. It later transpired that this was William Seton Brown of Prestonpans, a wealthy London-based merchant who had made his money in Bombay and Shanghai. He came from a missionary family in East Lothian and his younger brothers, Alexander and Robert Ebenezer, were doctors who had died early in life in their 20s and 30s.

Brown family grave marker in Grange Cemetery.
“Also his sons: ALEXANDER BROWN, MD, Born May 29 1815, Died Nov 15 1839; and
ROBERT EBENEZER BROWN, MD, Born Oct 1822, Died Apr 10 1849″

The inscription above the doorway of the Home read, in Latin, “To the glory of God, for the welfare of the poor, and in memory of most affectionate brothers, the surviving brother caused this house of healing to be built“. This overlooked somewhat that the fourth and oldest brother and also a medical doctor – John Taylor Brown – outlived them all! In its early years the supply of fresh water was an obvious problem as the Home required 4,000 gallons a day, which clearly was a rather ridiculous proposition to try and source from a well. It took until 1878 for the Edinburgh & District Water Trust to pipe a supply in, which Corstorphine village also benefited from. By 1881 the Home had 50 beds, with an average occupancy of 37. 660 patients were being treated per year, with an average stay of 20 days at a cost of 13s 11d per head, per week. The institution was very efficiently run with only a 1.3% management overhead and it’s annual income of £4,491 exceeded expenditure.

In 1892 the Home was closed for a year and a half to extend it to a capacity of 100 beds and provide general improvements. This was made possible by a bequest from local engineer James “Steam Hammer” Nasmyth and saw the corner towers heightened and extension blocks added to each wing and the addition of south-facing balconies at 1st floor level. The original architects were employed, by now known as Kinnear & Peddie.

Coloured postcard of the “Convalescent Home, Corstorphine” in 1907 showing the hospital building set back above the lawn terrace. Patients sit in enforced recuperation on the the numerous deckchairs in the shade of the balcony, men on the left of shot and women to the right. via Edinburgh City Libraries. Thank you to Alistair Adams for providing the date.

For some, the quiet and regimented life of the Convalescent Home proved relaxing and recuperative. But it wasn’t to everyone’s taste: many found it an overbearing straitjacket and discharged themselves against doctors orders just to escape. Yet others were told firmly to leave on account of their lasciviousness and drunkenness; while it catered for both men and women, the sexes were kept strictly apart.

Black and white postcard of Corstorphine Home in 1912. via Edinburgh City Libraries

In the year 1912, 1,323 patients had stayed at the Home with 925 of those staying for more than 3 weeks. It was found that very few had to return to the Infirmary after their time in Corstorphine, proving the utility of such institutions in freeing up primary hospital beds and aiding in recovery. From 1923 onwards, Corstorphine was joined by the Astley Ainslie Institution in providing convalescent care for the Infirmary. This modern facility was to pioneer long term care, medical supervision and rehabilitation. Little changed at the Corstorphine Home, which remained focussed on the traditional shorter stay recuperation for patients before they returned to their lives. A nod to modernisation came in 1927 when wireless receivers were installed and £80 was raised to provide headphones for patients to listen to the programming. The following year – 1928 – 1,612 patients were treated and the Astley Ainslie fully opened.

Little else changed at the Corstorphine Home in the interwar period, but as the Infirmary found itself treating increasing numbers of older children, small numbers found their way to the Convalescent Home which opened a children’s ward. Those treated by the Royal Hospital For Sick Children were lucky to be sent to its seaside Home in Gullane.

Christmas 1932, Santa Claus hands out presents to the younger patients in the Home

During WW2, like many such institutions it became an Auxiliary Hospital for service personnel. Initially the City was told by the Government that 300 of its 1,000 hospital beds were to be reserved for the military, reduced to 200 later that year. As a public, but charitable, institution, the Home was brought into the fold of the new National Health Service in 1947, remaining attached to the Infirmary. By the 1950s however it was recognised as being hopelessly out of date, described as “resembling a poor law institution of the earlier part of the century“. In addition, its wooden floors were found to be suffering from rot: something had to be done.

1955 postcard of Corstorphine Convalescent House taken from the road, looking past the gates and up across the lawns and gardens. A painted signboard can be seen reads “Royal Infirmary of Edinburgh Convalescent House”. via Edinburgh City Libraries. Thank you to Alistair Adams for providing the date.

Various options were considered and eventually the institution was closed, had its floors reconstructed in reinforced concrete and was thoroughly modernised and refitted by the Regional Health Board into a General Hospital. Corstorphine Hospital, as it would now be know, had 112 beds in large, open wards and its balconies were now enclosed by glass curtain walls. A new nurses’ house was built in the grounds, freeing up internal space, and when it reopened in 1962 it was now certified to provide nursing training. A big change was a move to pre-ordered catering, with patients selecting their food in advance from a menu, rather than the old “take it or leave it” system which often saw it left, to the detriment of patients health. By 1974 changing practices saw it detached from the Infirmary and grouped in with other small district hospitals in the Lothians to provide specialist geriatric convalescent and rehabilitation care.

Corstorphine Hospital against blue skies, showing the boxed-in balconies added in the 1960s rebuild. Photo taken 2013. CC-by-SA 2.0, Leslie Barrie via Geograph

A threat to the Hospital came in 1990 when it was proposed to close the hospital and potentially use the site for a new Sick Children’s Hospital. It weathered this storm but changing patterns for the elderly in the following decades, which was increasingly provided in patients homes or pushed into the private sector, saw it slowly run down. In 1999 a modern nursing home, Murraypark, was built in the grounds and in 200 the old nurses’ home was demolished and replaced with 30 residential care flats by a housing association. Closure for the hospital finally came in 2014, its founder’s message of “To the Glory of God, for the Welfare of the Poor” long forgotten, with Murraypark following in 2016. Plans to demolish the site and replace it with a “care village” came to nothing and in 2019 a plan by Michael Laird Architects was approved to renovate it into 32 flats, with extensions and additions in the grounds for 44 more flats.

Architect’s CGI model showing planned additions and extensions in the grounds of Corstorphine Hospital. Via Scottish Construction Now.

Neighbouring Edinburgh Zoo objected to this on the grounds of it being adjacent to the enclosures of their prized pandas (which would later be moved, and later yet moved all the way back to China).
The added complexities of Covid and the economics of the construction industry has meant that nothing has yet come of the housing plans and the building has now lain abandoned for over a decade. That hasn’t stopped the Urbexers getting in though, and their videos show the interior has been thoroughly vandalised.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s9W2JjCMJeE

If you have found this useful, informative or amusing, perhaps you would like to help contribute towards the running costs of this site (including keeping it ad-free and my book-buying budget) by supporting me on ko-fi. Or please do just share this post on social media or amongst friends.

These threads © 2017-2025, Andy Arthur

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The Infirmary (The End – Chapter 3 – Part 4)

The Count entered the building and walked up the stairs to Guardian Angel's room. Father Dophyl was watching the comatose agent. It had been decided that Angel should be under human (or clone) supervision at all times, in case he woke up or something else happened. "Good afternoon, Father. It has been a long time." "Good afternoon, Your Excellency. Jules told me you were coming. It has indeed been a long time. Isn't Agent Bond supposed to be with you?" "He is with Goulu now. He may come […]

https://metastructure.net/the-infirmary-the-end-chapter-3-part-4/

Guardian Angel (The End – Chapter 2 – Part 6)

The HQ infirmary was quiet. It was an infirmary in name only. It was a real clinic, equipped with the latest technology available on the market. Some of it was not even on the market yet. After the founder retired, Doc took over. His clones helped him run it with almost no human staff. Over the years, he had delegated more and more tasks to them. Against all odds, they were able to handle the day-to-day tasks. After Doc left, what could be automated had been automated. There wasn't much […]

https://metastructure.net/guardian-angel-the-end-chapter-2-part-6/

Some said that Sister St. Stanislaus called her an angel because of the smiles and signs of affection Thérèse showed her for the least service: “It’s in this way that I’ve taken God in, and it’s because of this that I’ll be so well received by Him at the hour of my death.”

“I’m very happy that meat disgusts me because then I find no pleasure in it.” (They were serving her a little meat.)

At the moment when I was leaving the infirmary to go to the refectory: “I love you!”

When the Angelus was ringing: “Must I extend my little hands?” I answered: “No, you’re even too weak to recite the Angelus. Call upon the Blessed Virgin by simply saying: ‘Virgin Mary!’ ” She said: “Virgin Mary, I love you with all my heart.” Sister Geneviève said: “Tell her that you love her for me, too.” Then she added in a whisper: “For ‘Mlle. Lili,’ for Mamma, for godmother, for Léonie, for little Marie, Uncle, Aunt, Jeanne, Francis, ‘Maurice,’ ‘little Roulland,’ and all whom I love.”

She had a desire for a certain type of food, a very simple one, and one of us told our Uncle about it: “It’s very strange that we make this known in the world! Well, I offered it up to God.” I told her that it wasn’t my fault, for in fact I had forbidden it. She replied by taking the little plate: “Ah! it’s offered up to God. It no longer matters. Let them think what they want!”

During Matins: “Little Mother, oh! how I love you!” With a pretty smile, trying to speak: “Let’s say something, just the same; let’s say . . . If you only knew how the thought of going soon to heaven leaves me calm. However, I’m very happy, but I can’t say that I am experiencing a living joy and transports of happiness, no!”

I asked: “You prefer to die rather than to live?“ “O little Mother, I don’t love one thing more than another; I could not say like our holy Mother St. Teresa: ‘I die because I cannot die’ (cf. Poetry, 1, “Vivir sin vivir en mí”). What God prefers and chooses for me, that is what pleases me more.”

Saint Thérèse of Lisieux

Yellow Notebook of Mother Agnès, 4 September 1897

Note: A touching anecdote concerning Sister St. Stanislaus: She suffered from hearing loss, so Thérèse would express her gratitude by giving Sister St. Stanislaus’ hand a gentle squeeze. As for the persons on St. Thérèse’s prayer list, they are Sister Geneviève (Céline), Mother Agnès of Jesus (Pauline), Sister Marie of the Sacred Heart (Marie), Léonie Martin, Sister Marie of the Eucharist (Thérèse’s cousin, Marie Guérin), M. and Mme. Guérin, Mme. La Néele and Dr. La Néele, Fr. Bellière and Fr. Roulland.

Thérèse & Clarke, J 1977, St. Thérèse of Lisieux, Her Last Conversations, Institute of Carmelite Studies, Washington DC.

Featured image: This Croatian painting of St. Thérèse was captured by the renowned Croatian photographer Zvonimir Atletić, who traveled with Saint Mother Teresa of Calcutta. Image credit: zatletic / Adobe Stock

https://carmelitequotes.blog/2024/09/03/tej-4sep97/

#deathAndDying #familyLife #food #infirmary #love #monasticLife #MotherAgnèsOfJesus #poetry #prayer #smiles #StTeresaOfAvila #StThérèseOfLisieux

Cause for Beatification: Ordinary Process
Session 14: 27 August 1910, 08:30

About heroic charity towards one’s neighbor
Mother Agnès of Jesus, O.C.D. — Witness 1

She was very compassionate, even as a small child, for the suffering of others. She was especially charged with distributing alms to the poor. Every Monday, the poor came to Les Buissonnets (our house in Lisieux).

Every time the doorbell rang, little Thérèse would open the door and then come and tell me: “Pauline, it’s a poor old crippled man! It’s a poor woman with tiny children, and there’s one wrapped in a swaddling band! The woman’s all pale!” And I could see deep compassion in her eyes.

She would then run off to bring either bread or money. Sometimes she’d come back joyfully: “Pauline, the poor man said to me: ‘The good Lord will bless you, little lady.'” To reward her for her work, our father would give her a few silver coins. She spent them all on alms, and that was her happiness.

In Carmel, she would have liked to be a nurse and apply herself to the relief of the sick. She would say to the nursing sister: “You’re very happy, you’ll hear Our Lord say: ‘I was sick and you took care of me’ ” (Mt 25:36).

At the monastery, there was an elderly, infirm, and cantankerous nun; she died in 1895. The Servant of God asked for the favor of helping and supporting her as she moved from one community activity to another. The quirks of character and abruptness of this poor invalid made this very difficult.

For years, the Servant of God devoted herself to this service with such constancy, attention, and gentleness that she finally earned the trust of this nun, who at first had taken a very dim view of her.

Sister Thérèse used to say that she guided our Sister X. with the same care she would have put into guiding Our Lord.

Mother Agnès of Jesus, O.C.D. (Pauline Martin)

Cause of Beatification, Ordinary Process
Pages 212r–213r

Translation from the French text is the blogger’s own work product and may not be reproduced without permission.

Featured image: Copyright Natalie Ewert (All rights reserved), used by permission.

https://carmelitequotes.blog/2024/08/26/agnes-27aug1910/

#causeOfBeatification #defenseOfThePoor #heroic #history #infirmary #inspiration #love #nursing #ordinaryProcess #prayer #StThereseOfLisieux

We are going to have very beautiful feast days in honor of our blessed martyrs of Compiègne on Saturday, Sunday, and Monday.

I will be able to attend them in a little tribune, for Sister Thérèse of the Child Jesus granted my prayer three months ago by giving me the strength to take a few steps, which had been impossible for me.

That is a great consolation to me, for I can spend many hours in the dear little tribune, which has a grille opening on the sanctuary; I go to seek strength there, close to Him who has suffered so much because “he loved us exceedingly” [Eph 2:4], as the Apostle says.

Saint Elizabeth of the Trinity

Letter 324 to Germaine de Gemeaux (excerpt)
Around 10 October 1906

Biographer and editor Conrad de Meester, O.C.D. mentions that the Carmelites of Dijon celebrated the beatification of the Martyrs of Compiègne for three consecutive days: Saturday through Monday, 13 through 15 October 1906.

Mother Teresa of St. Augustine Lidoine and the Martyrs of Compiègne were beatified on 27 May 1906 by St. Pius X in St. Peter’s Basilica. Father de Meester notes that during this October triduum, Père Vallée, the prior of the Dominican friars at Dijon, preached at Benediction of the Blessed Sacrament on 13 and 14 October.

Then Bishop Dadolle of Dijon celebrated a pontifical Mass in the morning on Monday 15 October for the solemnity of St. Teresa of Avila; he also was the preacher for Benediction later in the day.

There was a window with a grille in the second-floor infirmary that permitted Elizabeth to look down on the sanctuary during the Mass and Benediction and to pray near the tabernacle whenever she desired (Cf. Photograph 191 on page 126 in Light, Love, Life: a look at a face and a heart).

Elizabeth attributes her ability to walk from her infirmary bed to this window to the intercession of St. Thérèse of Lisieux.

Elizabeth enclosed a holy card of the newly-beatified Martyrs in her letter to her young friend Germaine.

View more floor plans in the print edition of Volume 2: Letters from Carmel

de Meester, C 2017, Rien moins que Dieu: sainte Elisabeth de la Trinité, Presses de la Renaissance, Paris.

Elizabeth of the Trinity, S 2003, The Complete Works of Elizabeth of the Trinity volume 2: Letters from Carmel, translated from the French by Nash, A, ICS Publications, Washington DC.

Translation from the French text is the blogger’s own work product and may not be reproduced without permission.

Featured image: In the background, we see a detail of the renowned stained glass depiction of the martyrdom of the Carmelites of Compiègne, masterfully designed and executed by Sr. Margaret Agnes Rope, O.C.D. for the Carmel of Quidenham, England. In the foreground are two newsclips from the New Orleans Times-Democrat (seen on the left) and the St. Louis Post-Dispatch (on the right) announcing celebrations in the Discalced Carmelite monasteries in New Orleans and St. Louis to mark the beatification of the Martyrs of Compiègne. Image credit: newspapers.com (Public domain), Discalced Carmelites

https://carmelitequotes.blog/2024/07/16/sabeth-ltr324-3/

#beatification #benediction #HighMass #infirmary #MartyrsOfCompiègne #prayer #sanctuary #StElizabethOfTheTrinity #StThereseOfLisieux #triduum