Baring-Gould’s sources: Belgian Martyrology of Molanus, Aberdeen Breviary, and Anglican Martyrology. Authority:—A life founded on notices in the Martyrologies and popular tradition, by John Gilleman, about 1480.
The Blessed Hymelin, priest and confessor [in old usage, a saint who was not martyred, or who suffered for the faith without being killed], was a near relative of S. Rumbold, and an Irishman. Of his early life nothing is known. He undertook a pilgrimage to Rome, and on his return was attacked by a virulent fever at Vissenaeken, near Tirlemont, in Brabant. He sank exhausted on a bank, and a girl noticed his haggard looks and evident sickness as she was returning from the well with her pitcher. Hymelin extended his hands to her, and implored her to give him a draught of water, but she had received strict orders from her master, the curate of the place, not to let any one touch the pitcher, as the plague was then raging, and he feared infection. She therefore reluctantly refused the draught.
"I am very sick, and perhaps dying," said the Irish pilgrim; "I pray you deny me not this little gift."
"My good friend," answered the maid, "I would gladly refresh you, were it not that I am under orders. But come home to my master, and he will give you food and drink of the very best." "I cannot stir from this place, I am far too ill," said Hymelin; "I pray you let me taste the cool water. I am consumed with thirst." She looked at the man's ghastly countenance with fiery spots on the cheek, and was unable to refuse any longer, so she held her pitcher to his lips; he drank, thanked her, and she went to her master with the vessel. The curate took the pitcher, set it to his lips, and drawing it suddenly away, exclaimed, "Thou hast brought me wine, not water!" And it was so. The water had been converted into wine. Then she told him all that she had done; and he ran and brought the wayfarer to his house, and laid him on his bed, and nursed him till he died. And as the soul of Hymelin fled, the chimes of the church began to play sweetly in the air, though no man touched the bells. Hymelin was buried in the parish church of Vissenaeken, where his body still remains, and every year, on March 10th, attracts a large concourse of pilgrims.