St. Hugh of Lincoln (1140-1200) was a Carthusian monk, who in time became Bishop of Lincoln, England. Very soon after his ordination, he developed an unexpected friendship which would last the rest of his life.

He went to a place called Stow, to one of his episcopal residences. The people there had the idea of giving their new bishop a grand and beautiful gift. There lived in that place a magnificent swan "as much bigger than other swans as a swan is bigger than a goose."

This bird was not the quiet, peaceable creature that the image of a swan calls to mind. On the contrary, he was very territorial and had the whole lake to himself. So it was rather an ambitious idea to try and catch this wild bird, and everyone expected a challenge. Imagine their surprise when the huge swan tamely let himself be caught and taken from the lakeside into the bishop’s home.

When the bird was brought in, Bishop Hugh held out some bread for him. The swan came right up to Hugh and ate out of his hand. The two became fast friends on the spot - practically inseparable day and night, alone or with visitors.

Faithful and affectionate as any pet, the swan enjoyed receiving the saint’s caresses as much as the latter enjoyed giving them. At times, the bird was in such high spirits as to call out in cheerful honks, nuzzling his head and neck among the folds of Hugh’s wide sleeves.

Whenever the bishop had to leave Stow, his swan would go back to the lake. A few days before the saint’s return, the swan anticipated his coming with joyous excitement. He flapped his wings against the water, and flew around with joyful cries. Then he left the lake and rushed to the bishop’s home, walking up and down the inner court, and even as far as the gate, waiting expectantly for Hugh’s return.

But there was a more aggressive side to the animal’s affection. Almost like a loyal dog, the territorial swan was fiercely loyal to Hugh and viewed everyone else with a suspicious eye. Much to the chagrin of Hugh’s companions, this large bird became a self-appointed bodyguard. If anyone came too close to the bishop, the swan gave them threatening gestures with his beak and wings. Visitors, even Hugh’s assistants were all given this treatment.

The chaplain, writing from his personal experience, gave a detailed account of the swan’s behavior:

"We can all bear witness that when the swan was present it was impossible for anyone to approach the Bishop without being attacked by it. While its master slept, it kept guard near the bed, and often caused us great embarrassment. For if we had to pass anywhere near, the swan would raise its head threateningly, and come forward to block the way. If we tried to frighten it, or use force, it would utter the most hideous cries, so that we were obliged to leave, for fear of awakening the Bishop. Neither coaxing nor flattery, if I may so speak, could induce it to change its hostile attitude toward all the world in defense of the supposed interests of its master.

"On one occasion, when the Bishop had passed nearly two years without coming to Stow, the swan went to meet him with such speaking demonstrations of joy, that it was clear to everyone how impatiently it had been longing for his return. All the servants of the house and the neighbors can testify that it made known the Bishop's approach by its behavior and its joyful cries at a time when no one else was expecting him. It was curious to watch the bird's excitement as St. Hugh and his attendants gradually drew near. As soon as it heard its master's voice it uttered a cry of joy and advanced with extended wings; it followed the Bishop into the inner court-yard, walked upstairs after him, and entered his bed-chamber, where it remained constantly unless it were driven out by force.

"The Bishop fed it with his own hands, cutting it a quantity of bread into convenient morsels of the length and thickness of a finger. This practice continued more or less continuously for fifteen years.

"At length, however, on one memorable day, the Bishop arrived at Stow, but the swan did not come to meet him. The bird remained melancholy and sad in the middle of the lake, and for three days every effort to catch it and bring it into the presence of its beloved master was in vain. At the end of three days, it allowed itself to be caught, but, to the amazement of all, it gave no sign of joy at the sight of the Bishop. It stood with its head hanging down, a picture of sorrow and dejection. Six months afterwards the Bishop died, without ever again visiting Stow. Then we understood that the poor bird had wished to show its grief at bidding its master a last farewell. Nevertheless, the swan itself lived for some years longer."

The memory of their friendship has endured through the centuries. There are many depictions of St. Hugh - paintings, stained-glass windows, and statues. The symbol that instantly identifies this bishop among so many others… is the beautiful, affectionate swan, faithfully at his side.