¹ Earl Waltheof, son of the most serene Earl Siward, holding the earldom of Northumbria and the government of the province of York, took to wife Judith, King William the Conqueror’s niece; and being at last unjustly accused, was by the same king innocently beheaded, and is buried at Crowland. For his daughter, named Maud, married to Simon earl of Huntingdon, conceived the man of God Walleu, or Waltheof, and bore him for the salvation of many. His name in the English tongue is disyllabic: if the second syllable be pronounced with a short accent, it is interpreted “elect savour”; if with a long, “elect robber”. For in words and manners he showed to all the savour of spiritual sweetness, and by a pious theft seemed to rob the kingdom of heaven, in that he ever strove to hide his virtues, the revelations divinely shown him, and the signs he worked. At length, his father being disinherited and dying beyond the sea, his mother was joined with her earldom to David king of Scots. By whom the same king begot Earl Henry, father of two kings, namely Malcolm and William.

² Walleu, profiting in life and manners, fleeing his parents and the world, received the canons’ habit in the monastery of St Oswald of the diocese of York, and being made a mirror of all holiness to the brethren, was by unanimous consent elected from sacrist to prior of Kirkham. And the more sublime he appeared in the eyes of all, the humbler he appeared in his own. On the Lord’s nativity, while he was celebrating mass with great devotion of heart and a pouring forth of tears and pronouncing the words of the sacrament, he saw in his hands an infant beautiful above the sons of men, and on his head a golden crown glittering with starry gems. And he was whiter than all snow, and with a sweet-flowing smile of his eyes and a serene and bland countenance touched, handled and stroked his head and face with the applause of his hands, and sometimes applying head to head and mouth to mouth, imprinted kisses the more often. At length the beloved infant, lifting up his hands, blessed him with the impress of the cross and vanished from his eyes, and the man of God saw nothing in his hands save the host. As often as he afterwards recalled this vision, filled with an inestimable joy of heart, he bedewed his cheeks with a flood of tears.

³ A certain canon, while celebrating in his presence, when a spider fell into the chalice about the Agnus Dei, was struck with fear and horror of celebrating. And Walleu, seeing this, pouring out prayer and giving a blessing, commanded him not to doubt to take the spider with the sacred draught in the Lord’s name. And he, devoutly obeying the father’s precept, taking it all with great constancy and also with great faith, felt no loss of health or provocation of nausea. Afterwards, the brethren sitting in the cloister after the meal, that canon rubbed his finger: and a swelling tumour appeared on the finger. And without delay the spider, the skin breaking, came out alive, and all wondering at the event, at the prior’s bidding it was given to the flames to be burnt.

⁴ St Malachi the bishop, an Irishman by nation, coming to York, was received by many with great honour, chiefly because his coming had been foretold by Sigar the priest of Newbald, God’s servant. For this priest, mighty in the spirit of prophecy, evidently designated the bishop’s coming, face, stature and number of companions. To this holy pontiff Prior Walleu gave a blackish horse that was a hard goer, which within a few days became all white and a sweet pacer.

⁵ At length, allured by the devotion of the stricter religion and Cistercian order, the man of God Walleu received the habit in the monastery of Wardon, and from there being transferred to Rievaulx, was at last elected abbot of Melrose, that is Melros. For as often as he, striking a fly or gnat that hurt his face and sometimes drew blood, killed it in impatience, straightway, a grievous avenger rising against himself with a scourge of rods, he drew copious blood from his body. For at his instigation and exhortation his brother Simon founded the monastery of St Andrew in Northampton and a convent of nuns of St Mary outside the town, and also Saltrey of the Cistercian order.

⁶ In a time of famine, a little corn in two barns, scarce sufficient for two weeks, he blessed, prayer being poured out: and it sufficed abundantly not only for the brethren but for four thousand poor for three months. At another time of famine each of the brethren, at the abbot’s humble request, cut off half his loaf to be bestowed on the poor: and the little basket being filled abounded to many poor without diminution until harvest. And when the brethren approached dinner that day, before each was found a whole loaf and as though fresh drawn from the oven, and all the granaries were replenished with corn. On another occasion also a little basket holding twelve loaves, with many guests arriving, by his merits lasted through day and night without diminution.

⁷ Three guests, humbly received by him, their feet being washed according to custom and placed at table — the third guest did not appear. On the following night a certain one, illustrious and splendid of countenance, appearing in dreams to a certain brother, said: “I am that yesterday’s guest who vanished from your eyes, the guardian of this place appointed by the Lord. For your abbot’s alms and prayers ascend in the Lord’s sight like the smoke of spices.” Rarely or seldom did he pour out a prayer without tears, most seldom without weeping.

⁸ On a certain vigil of the Lord’s epiphany, the brethren singing psalms in choir, he saw in spirit a radiant star going before the kings coming from the east with great array, and the child Jesus in his mother’s bosom honoured by them with mystic gifts, and at last the kings in dreams divinely admonished to return by another way into their own region. On a certain night of Easter, while they pressed on with matins, he seemed to himself to see the Lord Jesus after the scourges and the mockeries put upon him and the crown of thorns set on his head, crucified on the gibbet, his palms and soles exposed to the nails, commending his spirit into the Father’s hands and expiring, and from his side pierced with the lance blood and water flowing forth. He contemplated the soul, despoiling the abyss when the body was laid off, leading forth from it a countless multitude, resuming the body, and the soldiers guarding the sepulchre lying as dead, and at last himself entering heaven with the angelic choirs rejoicing.

⁹ When compline had been said and he was wont to attend to prayers in the church, he saw one night the angel of Satan transfiguring himself into diverse forms. And when he had signed himself, and the devil vanishing now appeared in the likeness of a mailed knight and, emitting fire from mouth and nostrils, shook a lance against the man of God, the abbot reverently took the pyx containing the Lord’s body, and signing himself with it advanced against the demon, saying: “Look, most wicked soldier, baleful satellite, your Judge about to send you into the abyss; wait for him, if you dare.” At this voice the vanquished and confounded enemy vanished like smoke. For he once saw, given to continual prayer and contemplation, the heavens opened and God’s glory and the mansions in the heavenly kingdom.

¹⁰ His horse, while it had the saint for its rider, behaved modestly like a tame lamb, and when the abbot was to mount and the servant who should hold the stirrup was not there, the horse bent its knees and, its belly cleaving to the earth, turned its side towards the abbot; and when the abbot had settled himself in the saddle at his pleasure, the horse, rising timely, took its way with a straight pace. And if the abbot began to sleep at any time, that horse, directing its steps moderately, avoided the muddy and slippery way, choosing the plain and clean; but when sleep was shaken off, it used to outpace the foremost with swift step. And when the servant was to water it or ride it, it used to agitate itself with snorting and various motion of its members. The abbot dying, the horse, despoiled, grew lean, and languishing even to death, was fit for no work.

¹¹ And being elected to the bishopric of St Andrews in Scotland and refusing to consent, he said: “I have put off my tunic: how shall I put it on? I have washed my feet: far be it that I should again defile them with the dust of worldly solicitude.” He healed two dropsical men by his holy touch and prayer.

¹² A certain lay-brother, perverse in deed and manners and robust in bodily strength, saw in dreams a certain man terrible in stature and countenance, who, rebuking his manners and cutting his hands and other members into pieces, placed them in the little basket which he carried and departed. And look, he met a certain illustrious and splendid man, who commanded that member should be fitted to member and the man restored whole, because Walleu in that hour had poured out devout prayers to the Lord for all committed to him. And when he had been restored to his former state, he was admonished to compose his manners, correct his life henceforth, and turn to God.

¹³ Now the man of God Walleu died in the year of the Lord one thousand one hundred and sixty, on the third of August, and ascended the heavens.

¹⁴ A certain lay-brother, tempted by Satan, grew so foolish that he nearly lost the light of reason and, believing, preferred the Jewish sect to the catholic truth; at last he believed no other life than the present, and counted vain what holy scripture speaks of the pains of the reprobate and the joys of the just. Living seven years in such error under the religious habit, he purposed every day and night to return to the world and consume his days in evil. Resting therefore one midday on his bed, he saw two illustrious men seizing him by the right hand and leading him into a certain most green garden, verdant, fragrant, flowering and most pleasant; but they, upbraiding his infidelity, asserted that they had deserved harsh and bitter things. And when he looked round if perhaps any help or comfort might come to him, he saw Abbot Walleu sitting on a high and very bright place, with a great crowd of white-clad men standing and sitting around. He, brought into the abbot’s sight and prostrate at his feet, begged pardon. And the man of God said: “What you have long hidden in your heart’s secret shall now be revealed in public.” And to his guides he said: “As he has deserved, let him be set upon the revolving wheel, where those like to him are set; then let him be led to the penal places, where he may learn how great is the distance between the guilty and the just.” He is therefore set upon the wheel, whose stature and height was horrible indeed, whose summit seemed to touch the heavens and its extremity the abyss; beneath ran a river of fire, and if anyone chanced to fall from the wheel, he was plunged into the gulf of fire. And there were in the wheel toothed spokes as it were sharp and long iron nails. On this wheel the brother is set, and certain men striking the wheel with nails, it soon revolved more swiftly than a millstone turns in a mill. At length taken down from there, he is led to a certain sea, in whose depth he was plunged, and saw the abyss, whose mouth above was narrow but its inner part appeared of inestimable depth and breadth. There he heard only weeping and wailing, and could see no one for the densest darkness. From there he is led through the waste of a certain desert, full of thorns and burnt brambles piercing the walkers’ soles, and seeing a certain castle very high and black, and on its summit a pitchy and putrid fire, how he was let out from there he knew not at all. He came therefore to a valley of infinite length, breadth and depth, horrible with burning flames, full of souls. Of whom he knew not a few in the world, some of whom were seculars, others religious, both pontiffs and abbots; one above the rest he heard wailing, who in the world had been a prelate of great name and place. And when, trembling, he feared lest he should be cast into the midst of the flames, and swiftly took to flight, two hideous beings pursued him striving to catch him. And as he ran swiftly, blood began to flow from his mouth and hands. And when he had come to a certain gate, white-clad beings drew him by the arms, and black ones by the legs, to themselves. And straightway awaking, he found his pillow sprinkled with blood, and felt himself flowing with blood.

¹⁵ Nor long after, in sleep he is brought by the same white-clad beings before Abbot Walleu. Who, addressing him with serene and joyful countenance, admonished him not to fear, and commanded the guides to lead him to see the places of rest and joy. Lifted therefore upon a very high mountain and into a certain region greatest in light and peace, he saw many mansions, some built as it were of purest gold, some of silver, some of precious stones. All the inhabitants were splendid youths, full of joy. He saw there a honey-flowing and delectable river, and every kind of trees and flowers. He was led beyond a certain golden and high wall into a most lucid region, where he heard a song of joy such as human ears or tongue cannot express. Abbot Walleu was there and said: “You have seen the punishments of the guilty and the rewards of the just: henceforth be not unbelieving, but faithful; decline from evil and do good, and diligently observe the purpose of the order in which you were called. The wheel,” he said, “and the gulf and the valley which you saw before, are places of purgatory; the putrid fiery and sulphurous pit within the castle’s circuit is the entrance of hell, appointed for the unfaithful and the criminal unrepentant. The first region which you have now seen is assigned to the just but imperfect; but this country is next to heaven, which none enters save the perfect and innocent and utterly purged from every sin.” This said, his guides being suddenly received into heaven, that brother was dismissed at the gate of Melrose. That simple brother, before the vision and of impeded tongue, became afterwards so eloquent and subtle that he composed rhythms rhetorically and beautifully of the gospels, expositions and histories, and moved his hearers, turned to admiration, to tears. Persevering in abstinences, vigils and exercises of the virtues even to death, he saw St Mary with bodily eyes comforting him before his death, and foretold to the brethren the day of his soul’s going out from the body.

¹⁶ And the servant of God Walleu appeared to a certain brother in dreams, saying: “Through the mediation of the holy Mary, the mediator between God and men, mother of the Lord, and my assiduous prayers, I have obtained from our Saviour the blessedness of eternal life for all whom I received under my pastoral care; if any of them has lived more negligently, after the amendment of purgatorial fire he shall pass to heaven. This,” he said, “sign can assure you certain faith in my words: tomorrow at the third hour three brethren shall enter the gate, who shall depart from the world in the same order in which they entered.” And it was done so.

¹⁷ The man of God Abbot Walleu cured three dropsical men; a dumb and blind monk he restored to pristine health; one troubled with the stone and a pain of the bowels he healed; a demoniac he delivered. And thirteen years after his death having elapsed, his body, with the garments in which it was wrapped, was found incorrupt and whole, much more like to one sleeping than dead.

Further Incidents #

¹ [Added in the Tiberius manuscript.] When Abbot John had come to Rome to visit the apostles’ thresholds and saw blessed Gregory the pope passing through the midst of the city, he wished to meet him and, as was fitting, show him reverence. But blessed Gregory, perceiving that he wished to prostrate himself on the earth, made haste and first cast himself on the ground before him, nor arose from there until the abbot had first arisen.

² A certain hermit who had left all things for God and possessed nothing save one cat, which caressing he often cherished in his bosom as though a housemate; prayed to the Lord that he would deign to show him with whom he ought to hope for a mansion of future recompense, who for love of him possessed none of the world’s riches. And it was revealed to him that he ought to hope for a mansion with Gregory. And when, deeply sighing, he compared Gregory’s riches with his own poverty day and night with sighing, another night he heard the Lord saying to him: “Since it is not the possession of riches but the desire that makes a rich man: why do you dare to compare your poverty with Gregory’s riches, who are proved to love that cat of yours which you have, by daily caressing it, more than he loves such riches, which, not loving but despising, he liberally scatters in largesse to all?” The solitary therefore giving thanks to God, began to pray that he might deserve sometime to receive a mansion with him.