From: Monumenta Germaniae Historica, Scriptores rerum Merovingicarum V, ed. B. Krusch & W. Levison (Hannover, 1910).

The editors’ introduction — the later fortunes of his monasteries and of the Life #

[The opening of the preface is missing; the preserved part begins in mid-sentence.]

…while Filibert again governed the monastery, he received from Waratto, mayor of the palace, the estate of Villare (to-day Montivilliers, Seine-Inférieure) for building a convent of virgins. But since Herio (Noirmoutier) and Jumièges lay too far apart to be governed by one abbot, Filibert went back to Ansoaldus and sent his disciple Aichadrus from the monastery of Quinçay (Saint-Benoît-de-Quinçay, Vienne) — where he himself had established monks after the old errors had been cast out — to take his place at Jumièges. After staying a little while there himself, he withdrew to the monastery of Herio, having handed Quinçay also over to another of his monks. All this, as we have noted, is known from his Life alone; what is certain is that he died at Herio. The year is unknown; the biographer and the martyrologies agree on the day, the 20th of August — the Hieronymian codex of Weissenburg has “in the monastery of Herio, the depositio of abbot Filibert”, and the Gellone manuscripts have “at Poitiers, on the island of Herio, the depositio of Filibert, abbot and confessor”.

His monasteries did not long enjoy a second fortune. Jumièges in the eighth century was “a great monastery”, whose abbot Droctegangus was inscribed with 113 monks in the Reichenau confraternity book; it was burned by the Northmen in 841, and although the community still existed in 849 and 862, the monastery only began to flower again after peace was restored and the Northmen were received into the soil of France.

In the monastery of Herio the regular discipline was loosened and dissolved in the eighth century; in Charlemagne’s time, while his son Louis was ruling Aquitaine, bishop Atio of Saintes undertook its restoration, so that shortly after his death the regular profession revived, and the monastery, already dedicated to the Virgin Mary and to Filibert, was governed by Benedict’s rule. But from the beginning of the emperor Louis’s reign the Northmen harassed the island with constant raids and forced the monks to build the monastery of Déas on the mainland, where they withdrew every summer while spending the winter on Herio — until the island had to be abandoned altogether. Nor did the troubled times let Filibert’s body rest: from 836 onwards it was moved again and again for fear of the enemy, until in 875 King Charles granted the monks the site of Tournus, where it found repose.

The brethren of Herio first halted at the monastery of Déas; but since they found no tranquillity even there, the monk Ermentarius asked abbot Hilduin — whether of St Denis or of St Germanus — to obtain from the king a safer place for the wandering community, sending him with the letter both the Life of Filibert and the Miracles wrought at the translation of 836, which Ermentarius himself had composed in 837–8 at the bidding of abbot Hilbod.

The Life of the patron was once attributed to Ermentarius as its author — wrongly: it was written earlier, was already being read at Reichenau in 821, and did not originate among the monks of Herio but was composed under Choschinus, abbot of Jumièges, whose date is uncertain. The abbot-lists of Jumièges place him third, as though he had been Aichadrus’s successor; but since Droctegangus (753–763), Hildegarius, Landricus (787) and Adam (814–815) follow Choschinus there, and Hugh, bishop of Rouen (d. c. 731), who ruled Jumièges as seventh abbot, is omitted, the eighth-century series is plainly incomplete, and Choschinus owes his third place only to being the sole abbot besides Filibert and Aichadrus named in the Life. Hariulf of Saint-Riquier, who asserts from Jumièges writings that Choschinus ruled both Jumièges and Centula, had only hearsay for his date — “they say” he was a disciple of Filibert and governed his monastery “after certain others” — and knew nothing of his deeds except that the saint’s Life was written at his command. Since his date cannot be fixed, the time of composition must be gathered from the Life itself.

The author had read the first Life of St Ouen, composed near the beginning of the eighth century; the other books known to him — Rufinus’s Ecclesiastical History, Gregory of Tours’ Histories, Gregory the Great’s Dialogues and Homilies, and perhaps Constantius’s Life of Germanus — yield no closer dating. Much of the book is filled with miracles of the lightest moment, whose elements seem borrowed in part from Jonas’s Life of Columbanus: bread and grain brought in time of want (ch. 10), stolen gloves (ch. 12), a storm driven off the harvest (ch. 15), the ship of Scottish merchants (ch. 42). The author’s credit, then, is not above suspicion, though the Life of Balthild supports him on the beginnings of Jumièges and a newly found charter confirms Ansoaldus’s share in Herio. Points of time gleaned from the narrative fit — Waratto as mayor after Ebroin’s death and Filibert’s return (683–4); yet later writers with documents before them could say as much. Nor could anyone soon after Filibert’s death already celebrate the “manifold burials” of the Jumièges saints (ch. 9), and the words about Villare — “where the rule of religion shines in that place to this day” (ch. 31) — look back over a stretch of time. The style has faults, but some of them fit the Carolingian age; and the ample description of Jumièges (ch. 7–9) suits rather the age when letters began to revive. On the whole we hold it certain that Choschinus did not govern Jumièges before Hugh, so that the Life cannot have been composed long before the middle of the eighth century; and since the abbot-lists are plainly defective, nothing hinders us from placing Choschinus after Droctegangus and assigning the Life to the later part of the eighth century.

[There follows a note on an unknown writer who, asked by some of the community of Jumièges to rewrite Filibert’s life “more carefully”, produced a version that the author of the Life of St Austroberta says was despised and altered; it cannot be identified with either surviving recension.]

The Life of Filibert was used by the priest Grimlaicus, by Usuard, by the second biographer of Austroberta, by the authors of the Lives of Agilus, Aichadrus, Sidonius and Babolenus, by William of Jumièges and the poet of the Jumièges monastery, and finally by Orderic Vitalis, Hariulf and Albric; the description of the region was pillaged for the Gesta sanctorum Rotonensium and the Miracles of Helena. An epitome stands in Vincent of Beauvais’s Speculum historiale, from which the appendix of the Golden Legend descends.

The manuscripts fall into two classes, distinguished both elsewhere and by different prologues — A begins Inclitus ille arbiter, B Dum prisca patrum.

[There follows the detailed catalogue of some forty manuscripts of classes A and B, with notes on editions — Mabillon, the Bollandists, Surius, Chesne — and on the specimen collations used for this edition.]

Here begins the Life of St Filibert, Abbot #

Prologue (recension A) #

That renowned arbiter, whose praise the choir of saints solemnly and radiantly cries out, has so wisely ordered the ages in their round that His standard-bearing soldier did not labour in vain, but, aided by the divine gift in the struggle of victory, both furnished a rule of life to those who followed and himself enjoyed with joy the palm of the kingdom. Which when king David, beholding with the eye of prophecy through the divine Spirit, he said to the Lord: “Your friends, O God, are made exceeding honourable; their principality is exceedingly strengthened” (Ps. 138:17).

Prologue (recension B) #

When we recall the ancient deeds of the fathers, we bring ourselves back to our own souls, and as in a mirror we see the course of our works — for the thirsty man seeks drink and the hungry man bread. So I too implore the Lord’s help, that He may give the devotion of the inmost heart and skill of the tongue in speaking — not out of rashness of presumption, but at the command of our spiritual father, abbot Choschinus, and of the whole congregation of the monastery of Jumièges — that they may possess some written memorial of our father Filibert.

Therefore I, least in understanding and in deed, under the rule of the venerable lord Choschinus, father of the holy host of Jumièges, unworthy though I am, invoke the mercy of Christ that He Himself may instruct my mind for the writing of the life of the most blessed Filibert — He who made the brute lips of the donkey on which the halting prophet sat to speak. And so I cull a few things out of many which pertain to the edification of souls, that it be neither burdensome to readers nor tedious to hearers, and that the prayer of the devout be not refused — “for strong as death is love” (Cant. 8:6). Let these few out of many suffice, since it is written: “To whom little is not enough, much will not profit.”

One. #

St Filibert, then, was born in the territory of Eauze, not unlearned in worldly wisdom, active in every way after the manner of his people, and was reared in the town of Vicus Julius — above all because the citizens of that place had sought his father Filibaudus, who held a royal office and had ceased his lay administration, to be their bishop. The father, seeing the aforementioned youth flourishing in good disposition, commended him to king Dagobert, who was the bravest of the kings of the Franks. Then, shining with the lamp of nobility, he obtained the fellowship of the nobleman Audoinus — who, loving God greatly beneath the golden girdle, was held most illustrious among the other magnates of the realm, and, with the merits of his life shining before him, mounted the episcopal throne of the city of Rouen and now gleams on earth with the flashing beam of the signs of his virtues.

Two. #

When therefore the young Filibert was in his strength at twenty years of age, hearing the divine precepts, he chose to become Christ’s disciple, abandoning all he had. Yet he did not trust himself to his own direction, for he had learnt this — that he who has not learnt to be subject dares not command, nor should he enjoin obedience on subjects which he has not known how to render to superiors. He sought out a servant of God whose vigorous religion should be most proven. Learning therefore of a certain soldier of God named Agilus, who governed the monastery of Rebais — which St Audoinus with his companions had built on his own ground and furnished with monks from Luxeuil under that man of God as father — he spent whatever he could obtain in alms, nor gave anything of it to friends or kinsfolk for favour, but dispensed it all prudently and faithfully as though it were royal business entrusted to him. And when he came to the aforementioned monastery, blessed Agilus received him gladly; and there the man of the Lord Filibert laid aside his hair and took up Christ’s sweet yoke and His light burden, and grew to such a height of religion that he became a model for the more perfect.

Three. #

Bidden therefore to sit at the head table, he strove to serve them all, so that the very comfort of refreshment might be woven into service of the brethren — nor did he rise from the table sated when the meal was done. And when the ancient enemy, envying his abstinence, was beating upon his soul to take ampler food, he was detected by God’s nod and shown to the man of the Lord in a dream: for when one night he had been refreshed with food, the enemy began to palpate his belly and to say, “Now here — good! Now here — good!” Then the soldier of the Lord, recognising the enemy’s fiery darts, fenced himself with the bulwark of the cross, strove to treble his rigour of abstinence, and implored God’s help against the tyrant’s weapons. And as he frequented the church on several nights, the dread serpent reared up against him in three temptations: for it tried to terrify him in the church in the shape of a bear, on another night it strove to transfix him with the iron of the candlestick, and on a third night it sought with outspread arms to bar the church door. All its engines Filibert drove out by the divine power through the marks of the holy cross.

Four. #

So when blessed Agilus died in the Lord, by the brethren’s harmonious consent the man of the Lord Filibert took the place of government. He began to be strong in humility, to pursue hospitality, to live in abstinence, to shine with the lamp of prudence, to flower with blossoming charity, to be kindled with the zeal of God, to govern the house committed to him vigorously, to respect no man’s person, and to root out the vices he found. Then certain of the brethren, inflamed with the spirit of malice, assumed rebellion and presumed to drag the saint of God out of the church; but the avenging hand of the Lord did not suffer this to go unpunished — for one of them perished by the stroke of lightning, and another, after the manner of Arius, voided all his bowels in the privy and ended an unworthy life by a worthy death. Then the rest, stricken with fear, begging pardon for their crime, strove to recall him to his former honour and henceforth to obey him with the zeal of charity.

Five. #

But because perfect men ever pursue more perfect things, the priest of the Lord began to go round the monasteries of the saints, that he might gain some profit from the succession of their holiness. Traversing Luxeuil and Bobbio and the other monasteries living under the rule of St Columbanus, and all the monasteries that Francia, and Italy, and all Burgundy enclose in their bosom, like the wisest bee he drew to his own examples whatever he saw flowering in better pursuits. The gifts of St Basil, the rule of Macarius, the decrees of Benedict, the institutes of Columbanus — these he frequented by most holy unceasing reading, and so, laden with the virtue of those perfumes, he showed a holy example to his followers.

Six. #

But when the divine power willed his light to be set upon the lampstand, that the lamp of his holiness should shine far and wide with flashing beam, He put it into the heart of the most holy man that he ought to build a monastery by his own labour. Then from Chlodoveus, king of the Franks, and his queen Balthild he obtained by suppliant petition a place in the territory of Rouen which antiquity used to call by the old name of Gemeticum — and there he was seen to build a noble monastery.

Seven. #

Truly a worthy derivation of the name — “Gemeticum”, which blooms with varied beauty after the manner of gems! Here the woodland foliage of leaves, here the manifold fruits of trees; there an exceeding fertile soil delights, here meadows green with grass. Here the scented flowers of gardens, here vines abound in clusters that redden, gleaming with swelling buds, into Falernian wine. The famed turf, ringed on every side by waters, is fit for the pasturing of flocks, pouring forth milk-bearing increase, suited to the various hunts, melodious with the songs of birds. The Seine winds round it thrice five miles in three parts; it bends its course through twice four stadia, not unwelcome to the old ways, giving those who approach but a single entrance. Now the rising sea belches up the flood, now the force of the waters streams back into its channel. It lacks almost nothing — the convenience of ships, the commerce of many, whatever is supplied by vehicles on foot or horseback, by wagons and by rafts. There the ancients founded a castle; there in their ranks stand the noble camps of God, where men sighing groan for desire of paradise — who, groaning with streaming eyes, shall not groan amid the avenging flames. There is the kindly saint of whom the present text speaks, to be honoured with manifold praises, who like the patriarch Jacob of old went down into that desert in the number of seventy souls, with seven added for the grace of the sevenfold Holy Spirit.

Eight. #

There by his providence he built walls rising in a towered mass four-square, wondrous cloisters of reception fitting for those who come. Within, the kindly house shines, worthy of its dwellers. Rising from the east stands a church built in the form of a cross, at whose summit the blessed virgin Mary presides, containing before the altar’s face the little bed of the most blessed Filibert, painted with the light of gems, adorned with a pile of gold and silver; on either side the altars of John and of Columbanus give glory to God. Adjoining on the north is a chapel of Denis the martyr and Germanus the confessor; on the right the noble house of St Peter juts out, with an oratory of St Martin at its side. Turning southward is the cell of the saint of God himself, flowering with its stone margin. The cloisters of the citadel are wrought with stones, skirted with arches, and the varied beauty delights the mind of all in the triumphing waters. Double, turning southward, a house stretches out for rest — two hundred and ninety feet in length, eminent fifty in breadth; through every bed the light shines, entering through the glass of the window, soothingly cherishing the reader’s sight. Beneath, the twin buildings serve two fitting offices: on one side the Falernian is stored to be kept, on the other bright meals are prepared; and there assemble those who worthily serve Christ, having nothing of their own, lacking no convenience, for they who hope in the Lord “shall not want any good thing” (Ps. 33:10), that in them may truly be fulfilled what is written: “Much peace have they that love Your law, O Lord, and they have no occasion of stumbling” (Ps. 118:165). There wondrous charity shines, great abstinence, the deepest humility, chastity through all.

Nine. #

But this too is wondrous, and the world had not heard of it: they found profit even from the sea-beasts. For sea-fish fifty feet long are caught with hooks, nets and rafts, which, for the sustenance of the brethren, serve not only for food but also drive away darkness by lamps; and contrary to the nature of water, which is accustomed to quench fire, through the nutrients of their fat they feed the lamp’s fire. This is the merit of St Filibert, and of the manifold burials of the saints who, serving God assiduously, in a time of peace, crucified to the cross of their own will, fulfilled the contest of martyrdom and, dead together with Christ’s body, await the day of the Lord to receive the crown of the great contest. So much have we briefly said of the site’s situation; now let us return to the order of his deeds.

Ten. #

Now when the man of the Lord, with merits shining, was growing in virtue, and whatever he withdrew from himself by rigour of abstinence he dispensed to the poor and to guests, one day when the brethren were labouring, bread failed them, so that there was not even anything from which it might be made. But while he was ever admonishing the brethren in the zeal of religion, saying that it was promised that the Lord would never afflict the soul of the righteous with famine (Ps. 32:19), suddenly by God’s nod a certain Frank arrived bringing seven loaves and twice three sata of flour — at the very hour when the necessity of refreshing the body demanded. Then they were more firmly strengthened in faith, and from then on had enough, and joyfully offered it to those who came; and from that day the inhabitants of that place never lacked fitting grain.

Eleven. #

Let new miracles of Christ be added to the page. When the man of God wished to send a certain monk on the monastery’s business to Ebroin, prince of the Franks, he found him prostrate with a violent fever, and laid on him the duty of obedience, using the empire of Christ’s power in a word alone: “Go,” said he, “and return — and be fevered no more.” At once the monk, made whole, set out with all speed on what the holy father had commanded. So the word of the man of God both obtained its business and drove away the sickness.

Twelve. #

Once the man of the Lord had gone to the city of Paris, a matter of discord requiring him, to restore peace. Having obtained what he wished, a robber stole his gloves by unlawful presumption. When the next day he did not find them, he kept patience after his custom. But the unhappy thief, struck by the Lord, revealed the theft he had committed: he cried out wailing that he was burning, and could say nothing else, but with outstretched arms displayed his bosom with the theft concealed within. When the man had been punished with death, the citizens of that place presented the aforementioned gloves to his gaze at the saint of God’s monastery.

Thirteen. #

One night, while he was keeping vigil and singing psalms in the basilica of St Peter, a certain monk who was watching within suddenly saw his eyes glittering in the Holy Spirit like two shining lamps. For the grace of tears had been granted him, so that as soon as he betook himself to prayer, rivers of tears at once streamed from the saint’s eyes. But it was also his greatest zeal not to take food before the Lord had visited him with the grace of compunction.

Fourteen. #

When one of the monks had come to the extremity of death, he was made mute of lips. The priest of God, going in to him, began persuasively to urge him that if he had any hidden sin for which he had not done penance, he should press his hand. When he had done so, the man of God went into the church of St Mary and began to beseech the Lord to deign to restore the sick man his tongue, lest the adversary should be able to plunge his soul into the pit of hell for a hidden crime. And when the saint rose from prayer, another brother told him that the sick man could speak and was eager to make confession. And so it was: having made confession and received penance, he rendered up his soul — so that neither did the saint distrust God nor the sick man pass over in despair.

Fifteen. #

One day, when the brethren were cutting the harvest and the sheaves lay scattered over the field, a roaring tempest thundered, and wind with a mighty whirlwind showed itself. Then the saint, that the brethren might not lose their labour, cried to the Lord Jesus with arms outstretched. As he rose from prayer, the divine power took the tempest away and, divided in two parts, put it to flight. Soon, the calm restored, the monks rendered praises to God.

Sixteen. #

It was the Lord’s day, and the man of God, his journey done, was hastening to the monastery to celebrate the solemnities of the masses. Coming to the Seine, he went up with the brethren into a little boat; the horses he had he left in the pastures. When the royal forester saw this, he stole the horse the man of God had sat upon. But when he had laid himself down to sleep, he suddenly rose and saw his whole house burning with deadly flames. And when his wife did not see it and tried to calm his terror, she too, suddenly seeing what her husband saw, began to ask whether her husband held anything of the servants of the Lord’s goods by fraud. When he acknowledged it, both together made no delay until they had both restored the stolen goods and received penance with pardon.

Seventeen. #

One day a monk who served the sick after the custom himself seemed to have fallen into sickness. But the man of God, learning it, said to him: “Have faith — and serving the sick, be you sick no more.” Soon the monk, as he heard, fulfilling the father’s bidding, both served the sick and himself remained whole.

Eighteen. #

When the man of the Lord, making his journey, had come to the Roman port on the river Oise and found no vessel, he sought the aid of prayer. Rising from the ground, they suddenly found a ship sent by the Lord; boarding it with praises of God, they crossed the channel of the river.

Nineteen. #

A certain religious woman received the man of God in her own little house at the vill of Pinavernum, asking him to enter the cellar and bless the wine-vessel that is called a tun, and to deign to remain that same night in the same house after the meal was taken. That obtained, when all the inhabitants and guests of that house had been liberally served in honour of the saint, and he had departed early, the aforementioned woman, entering the cellar, found that same vessel as full as though nothing had been drawn from it.

Twenty. #

Once when his cupbearer, gravely struck by a serpent, was being consumed by cruel death, as soon as Filibert made the blessing over his head, the sick man felt the wound dying within him, and without any practice of medicine recovered his former health.

Twenty-One. #

No less remarkable was that other time: when he was crossing the Seine and the ships had begun to be in danger from an exceeding tempest, as he poured forth prayer, his ship alone — on which he stood, the rest remaining behind — was suddenly carried across to the edge of the shore.

Twenty-Two. #

It was the saint’s custom to send brethren from the monastery round about to exhort souls; and noble and powerful men flocked to him, rejecting their own wills to serve the Lord Christ. When therefore the multitude of men in the monastery had increased, he built another monastery named Pavilly, ten miles removed from Jumièges, where he gathered a multitude of holy women whom a most prudent mother — born of noble parentage, Austroberta by name — governed under the rule of religion for the man of God’s obedience. Many monasteries too were built in Neustria after his example. But it were long to recount all in order — how greatly his fame had grown, so that other abbots left their own monasteries or sent their most proven monks to him, that, dwelling long with him, they might learn his life and conversation, so as rightly to profit in their own houses. Priests of the Lord flocked to him, desiring to imitate his example, and adorned their own monasteries with his rule.

Twenty-Three. #

And when both by royal bounty and by the generosity of the faithful a store of silver came in upon him, he strove to tithe all the kinds of goods. But when he did this at the year’s turn, there was always found added more than had been tithed before. That tithe therefore he assigned to the redemption of captives and the nourishment of the poor — to such a degree that he sent his monks with laden ships into the parts beyond the sea, and flocks of captives redeemed through him praised the power of Christ. Moreover when he bade his brethren carry on business for the community’s profit, he ordered them to give more than custom demanded of seculars. And for this cause, the neighbouring people rejoicing, a holy commerce overflowed from the labour of the just.

Twenty-Four. #

When therefore the pestilent Ebroin — who, driven by the Frankish race from the palatine honour for his exceeding cruelty, had gone forth from Luxeuil a tonsured clerk and become an apostate — armed with the spirit of malice, began to gnash with ravening teeth upon the noble priests and Franks, and, with many consenting, had received the place of honour against God’s commandment, St Filibert went to him and spent on him the words of preaching. And when Ebroin wished to give him great gifts, the man of God rejected them all, saying that he was an apostate and that a Christian man ought not to share with him — esteeming that by this deed he might obtain the palm of martyrdom through the edge of the sword. But the Lord preserved him for the profit of many who were to be called through him to the kingdom of heaven.

Twenty-Five. #

The ravening wolf raging to snatch souls of the flock with his teeth, stirring up certain clerks of the city of Rouen, began to sow discord and to chant malicious words to St Audoinus the bishop against the man of the Lord Filibert. And because, as the apostle says, “evil communications corrupt good manners” (1 Cor. 15:33), St Audoinus, believing the clerks’ discourse, ordered the man of God Filibert, whom he had before loved exceedingly, to be thrust back into a dungeon. Which when he entered with joy, while he was singing the Davidic chant there, a multitude of mice — that is, of bats that keep the use of flying — which had been gathered there in a heap, was put to flight by God’s command; and the divine power turned that foul and dark place into a nectar-sweet fragrance.

Twenty-Six. #

Released from prison by the letters of blessed Audoinus, he went to the nobleman Ansoaldus, bishop of Poitiers, for the sake of building a monastery — because the multitude of men who flocked to the Lord through his preaching could not be contained in one place. In those days Ansoaldus shone exceedingly in worldly power; the man of God rebuked him in secret and foretold him many things to come, which the event afterwards proved. Recognising therefore that the chosen priest of God was filled with the spirit of prophecy and raised to the summit of holiness, Ansoaldus commended himself wholly to his counsel and began to bow his episcopal power under the rule of religion. And when he wished to keep him with him in the city, and St Filibert ever longed for the desert’s waste, then by the Lord’s gift Ansoaldus established a monastery on the sea-island of Herio — Ansoaldus by the work and largesse of alms, Filibert by religion, doctrine, labour and the gathering of monks. Into that place the divine honey passed over from the jewelled comb of Jumièges with the swarm of souls; and the apostolic man Ansoaldus enriched it with great gifts from his own substance, an exchange of villas being made with the church of Poitiers.

Twenty-Seven. #

Meanwhile, when St Filibert would not return to Neustria lest he should join communion with Ebroin, St Audoinus wished to set another abbot in his place; and when the brave monks could in no wise be bent to consent by the threats and terrors or the flatteries of their ruler — so as to consent to him in any way and break the faith they had pledged — a certain wretched fellow named Chrodobertus, whose son St Filibert had received from the sacred font in the world, and who had himself afterwards been his monk by promised obedience, took that monastery to rule against the measure of justice. On the same day he was struck by the blow of damnation in the foot, and was tortured with so cruel a plague that, while he yet lived, the bones fell off it, and he ended a miserable life by a most miserable death. But when in his place Ragnetramnus the archdeacon had been substituted by the blessed bishop Audoinus, a place was found — and he was set over the see of the church of Avranches, and Ebroin the apostate was slain.

Twenty-Eight. #

Meanwhile the Holy Spirit began to inflame the heart of St Audoinus with the lamp of charity, so that he himself sent messengers for blessed Filibert, that they might see each other in the concord of true peace. Which done, he received back his monastery. All Neustria rejoiced at the presence of so great a man; a crowd of monks went out to meet him with praises and relics, and so received the saint of God within the cloister of his own monastery. And when the two renowned priests — as it were the two lights of the world, Audoinus and Filibert — had met in one, mutually asking pardon and kissing each other’s necks and hands, they were so glued together in the bond of charity that never afterwards were they divided from the frame of their heart. For he entered Jumièges when the eighth year was accomplished and the ninth beginning — as had been foretold before by St Filibert: for when a certain unhappy deacon, exercising the deacon’s office, had carried off the monastery’s silver-wrapped cross in theft, and the crime was discovered on the beginning of the ninth day, the man of God said by word alone to those he trusted that the monastery would be without a shepherd for as many years as the days on which the marks of the cross had been lost.

Twenty-Nine. #

Then, when firm charity persisted between him and the lord Audoinus, it was agreed that wherever the lord Filibert wished he should abide, and that he should assign the rector’s presence to other places among his monasteries — because the intervals of the long journey made the monasteries themselves distant from one another.

Thirty. #

While he was dwelling at Jumièges, it happened that bishop Ansoaldus came to visit the servant of God. And as they were eating together, it was told them that an evil spirit was vexing a certain monk. And when they had entered together the house in which the sick man lay and had poured forth prayer, the malignant enemy at once departed, and he who had been held captive in mind remained whole.

Thirty-One. #

At the same time the prince of the palace, Waratto by name, handed over the stronghold called Villare in the territory of Caux for the building of a monastery of virgins — where the rule of religion shines in that place to this day.

Thirty-Two. #

Returning therefore to the territory of Poitiers to the aforementioned bishop Ansoaldus, he was received with great joy. He went on to the monastery of Quinçay, which likewise is built in a noble place, from which the same saint, after the old errors had been cast down, had filled it with monks — where Christ is ever praised in His saints by His servants.

Thirty-Three. #

And there, taking counsel, he sent to Jumièges one chosen out of his disciples, Aichadrus by name, a suitable man, that he should fill the pastoral office in his place. And although the monks mourned the bodily absence of their former father, yet by the grace of the holy man present they fulfilled his decrees and promised obedience to the same Aichadrus. And the holy man of God, coming to visit them, admonished them earnestly to persevere always in the work of religion. And so, commending them to the Lord, giving his blessing and promising peace, he returned to the island of Herio, and handed Quinçay over to another of his monks to govern.

Thirty-Four. #

While he was dwelling on the island of Herio, a certain brother was being tortured by a vast pain of the teeth. When he had faithfully asked that water in which the saint’s feet had been washed be given him, as soon as that water touched the place of pain, the cruel toothache departed at once by Christ’s power.

Thirty-Five. #

A certain brother there, while he was suffering the inconvenience of fever, approached the holy father’s table. And when the man of God had offered him a little oil with a fragment of bread, he bade him by his word to be sick no more. As soon as he had eaten the morsel of bread with oil, he suddenly felt that he had been made whole by the Lord.

Thirty-Six. #

Another brother likewise, while he was busy in the kitchen, happened to fall, and rose with his arm wrenched out of its place in pain. But when he was failing almost to death, the man of God came, and he begged him to make the sign of the cross over the pain of his arm. Then he, by grace of humility, set the banner of the cross against the sick man’s arm beneath the cloak he wore, and restored him to his former health quicker than speech.

Thirty-Seven. #

While the man of God was walking round the cloisters of the monastery, the cellarer of the monastery, Sidonius by name, took pains to inform him that he had no oil from which the accustomed light might burn in the church. Asked whether he had any oil, he said he had no more than half a pound, which he had tried to keep for guests or for his own use. But the man of God bade it be put into the lamps, and began to promise him from the Lord a supply of oil for the space of the whole year to come. And when the day was declining to evening, a messenger came from the seaport announcing that a ship laden with oil had arrived, which, coming from the city of Bordeaux, was bringing to the servant of the Lord forty modii of that liquid from friends — and so God fructified him with the spirit of prophecy and with the oil of gladness above his fellows (Ps. 44:8).

Thirty-Eight. #

On another occasion likewise, when they needed fat for preparing the lamps and he was asking the Lord in unceasing prayer that by His bounty their want might be supplied, at break of day a monk came and announced that the sea-wave had cast up a great dead fish on the shore — a whale by name — from whose flesh the brethren drew thirty modii of fat for their light.

Thirty-Nine. #

Yet at another time, when a grievous famine began to distress the territory of Poitiers, and the man of God, anxious for his brethren’s need, was earnestly intent on the pursuit of prayer, at break of day they found in the channel a multitude of the fish they call porpoises, which, the sea retreating, remained on the dry land — two hundred and thirty-seven of them. From where the brethren had a store of comfort for the whole year’s space, and very many monasteries and the poor had help of sustenance.

Forty. #

At another time also, Breton sailors arriving stole a bullock of the monastery in the crime of theft; and when they wished to return home, the sea began to swell and to threaten them with peril. Then certain of the sailors, sound of sense, understanding that the vessel was imperilled by guilt, searching carefully, found the hide and the flesh of the bullock together. Returning, the wind driving them back to the island, when they had restored the stolen goods, received pardon, promised fidelity, and obtained the blessing, they returned in peace to their own.

Forty-One. #

At another time also, when British ships were delayed on the shore by an adverse wind, the sailors being in peril of hunger, the man of God, compelled by pity, ordered two animals and flour and bread to be given them; and making prayer for them with the brethren, by a favourable wind besought of the Lord, obtained from Christ a prosperous course for their voyage the next day.

Forty-Two. #

One day, sitting with the brethren, filled with the spirit of prophecy, he said to them: “Brethren, let us give thanks to God in all things, for fitting provisions will soon come to us from over the sea.” Nor long after, a ship of the Scots, laden with various merchandise, arrived at the shore, and ministered to the brethren shoes and garments in liberal measure.

Forty-Three. #

What should be said first of him, what last, it is not for our littleness to unfold in writing — that belongs to the supreme Maker who numbers the multitude of the stars (Ps. 146:4). For so great was the sagacity in him that whatever he preached to others he himself first strove to fulfil. He was filled with piety, endowed with mercy, ready in preaching, profound in understanding, lovely in discourse, strong in vigour, in all things hospitable, a redeemer of captives, a consoler of the sorrowful, a builder of churches, a follower of abstinence — and not he alone, but many besides after his example. He fled a lie as though it were deadly poison — most chaste, sober, in every good work perfect. Christ was ever on his lips, the Holy Spirit ever shone in his heart. For on the thirteenth of the kalends of September [20 August], the people weeping and the angels rejoicing, the priest’s renowned soul passed from the world’s mockery to Christ, to receive from the Lord the palm of glory in triumph. His body the earth received; his soul was rendered to Christ — in the reign of our Lord Jesus Christ, to whom is honour and glory with the Father and the Spirit the Comforter for ever and ever. Amen.

The Letter of Ermentarius #

To Hilduin, highest of abbots, be life and health, Be life happy and glory everlasting! Amen. are you, propped by the merits of kindly Filibert, be strong — Take the Life and the Virtues of him to be held! Be mindful, I pray, of your own, and take pity also on us; And that he may be mindful of you, be you mindful of him. Let him intercede for you, pouring forth prayers to the Lord, That you may live happily and flourish for ever. You too, reverently ask the pious king Charles, That he may at last in pity give us a place. Live long and happy, rejoicing through many seasons; For your Ermentarius desires these things.

The Life of blessed Filibert, and the Miracles shown at his translation — which I, then a mere novice, composed in a rather uncultivated style — I have taken care to send to your splendour, that, reflecting on such things, you may consider again his transference: since, as you well know, on account of the Northmen’s inroad no service is paid to him by anyone, especially as we can neither remain there nor obtain anywhere a place to which he may be transferred. If indeed this business should be accomplished through your help — and you can most easily effect it, if your will be seconded by your power, since you hold the next place after the king in all things — you will be making provision for yourselves to the greatest degree, not only for the present but also for the future. Finally, the name of our most glorious king Charles is for this reason passed over in silence among the brethren in the little preface to the Miracles: because, when these things were done, he was being reared, taught and instructed as a boy in the royal hall. Therefore if, admonished by your most kindly suggestion and his most liberal bounty, they should obtain their effect, the following book — which will contain the miracles of the aforementioned confessor that remain, or such as are still, it is believed, to be disclosed — will be assigned to your name. I have indeed acknowledged your most sagacious request with gratitude: if your most perspicacious insight into these things should find anything otherwise than is fitting, let it be polished, not with the biting, but with the gentle pumice.

That you may flourish for ever, I beseech the Lord unceasingly; I supplicate suppliantly that you may flourish for ever.

[Here the Life of Filibert, and then the Miracles, follow in the manuscripts.]