That in the twelfth century the fame of Roc-Amadour as a place of pilgrimage was established we have very good evidence in the fact that one of the pilgrims to the sanctuary in 1170 was Henry II. of England.  He had fallen seriously ill at Mote-Gercei, and believing that he had been restored to health through the intercession of the Virgin, he set out for the ‘Dark Valley’ in fulfilment of a vow that he had made to her; but as this journey into the Quercy brought him very near the territory of his enemies, the annalists tell us that he was accompanied by a great multitude of infantry and cavalry, as though he were marching to battle.  But he injured no one, and gave abundant alms to the poor.  Thirteen years later, the King’s rebellious son, Henry, Court Mantel, pillaged the sanctuary of its treasure in order to pay his ruffianly soldiers.  This memorable sacrilege had much to do with the insurmountable antipathy of the Quercynois for the English.

I have before me an old and now exceedingly rare little book on Roc-Amadour, which was written by the Jesuit Odo de Gissey, and published at Tulle in 1666.  In this, Court Mantel’s exploit is spoken of as follows: 

’Les guerres d’entre nos Rois tres Chretiens et les Anglais en ce Royaume de France guerroyant ruinerent en quelque facon Roc-Amadour; mais plus que tous Henri III., Roi d’Angleterre, ingrat des graces que son pere Henri II. y avait recues, en depit de son pere qui affectionnait cette Eglise, son avarice le poussant, pilla cet oratoire et enleva les plaques qui couvraient le corps de S. Amadour et emporta ce qui etait de la Tresorerie; mais Dieu qui ne laisse rien impuni chatia le sacrilege de cet impie Prince par une mort malheureuse.  De quoi lise qui voudra Roger de Houedan, historien Anglais en la 2 partie de ses Annales.’

There are early records of miracles wrought at Roc-Amadour.  Gauthier de Coinsy, a monk and poet born at Amiens in 1177, has left a poem telling how the troubadour, Pierre de Sygelard, singing the praises of the Virgin in her chapel at Roc-Amadour to the accompaniment of his vielle (hurdy-gurdy), begged of her as a miraculous sign to let one of her candles come down from her altar.  According to the poem, the candle came down, and stood upon the musical instrument, to the horror and disgust of a monk who was looking on, and who saw no miracle in the matter, but wicked enchantment.  He put the candle back indignantly, but when the minstrel sang and played it came down as before.  The movement was repeated again before the monk would believe that the miracle was genuine.  The poem, which is in the Northern dialect, and is marked throughout by a charming naivete, commences with a eulogium of the Virgin: 

    ’La douce mere du Createur
    A l’eglise a Rochemadour
    Fait tants miracles, tants hauts faits,
    C’uns moultes biax livres en est faits.’