Prologue to Book Five. #

¹ Having made the circuit of the bishoprics of all England, wherever it extends, I return home as though after a long pilgrimage, so that I may fulfil my promise concerning our most blessed father Aldhelm. In carrying this out to the best of my ability, I am moved not by any greater abundance of material for writing, but by the deeper affection I have for the saint, which he himself deserved. For would it be right for me to deny him the praise of my voice, when he, after God, bestowed upon me whatever little ability I possess? Should I not devote my tongue to him, when, if need arose, I would devote my life to him? Indeed, a man is excessively miserly if he is sparing with his own words. Since, therefore, it would be an outrageous departure from justice if, in this brief account of the saints, our lord and patron alone were shrouded in silence, I have undertaken to say at least a little about his life, although, through my lack of knowledge of the facts, I am by no means able to satisfy my intention. Thus, apart from what Bede touches upon concerning him in the Deeds of the English, he has always received less than his merit deserved, and has always lain hidden without honour through the negligence of his fellow-countrymen. Great indeed was his renown for learning and his distinction in miracles, yet he was made illustrious by no surviving written account. Let anyone rejoice if he has read more concerning the miracles of Aldhelm, at least those which he performed while alive. Certainly nothing has come down to me, nor has anything been discovered even by the most diligent investigation, except what the hand of a craftsman engraved upon a silver and very ancient shrine. Faricius, abbot of Abingdon, compiled these things into a little book, relying upon his own authority and bringing in no external testimony by which to confirm his statements. I preferred a different manner of writing: to proceed further through those deeds which were absent from the writings of Faricius, and to surround each statement with suitable witnesses as though with supporting posts. For who otherwise would believe deeds so far removed from our own memory and, so to speak, buried through the poverty of written expression? Moreover, many things remain which await my service, specifically as a monk of Malmesbury, things which that man either did not know or chose not to relate. For although his eloquence was by no means altogether contemptible, yet in these matters in particular, because of his ignorance of the language, his knowledge was careless, since he had been born beneath the Tuscan sky. Therefore, my reader, judge the matter fairly and favourably, lest the obscurity of my person suffer prejudice in comparison with the dignity of an abbot. Although, if you consider honours, I too have borne some name and distinction.

² This narrative, then, will proceed in four parts. First, I shall show the lineage and learning of this most holy man. Second, I shall set forth what monasteries he founded and with what privileges and estates he distinguished this house of ours. Here, from the very outset, I appeal to the reader’s patience, lest, wearied by the writings of others, he turn away. For this little book promises not a display of eloquence, but an accumulation of knowledge, so that it may present not so much the life of the saint as testimony concerning his life and a means of understanding it. Third, I shall not omit the very few miracles that he performed while alive, not because he did not perform more, but because these alone have been able to escape the difficulty of doubt. Fourth, I shall carry the sequence of events from the blessed man’s death down to our own time with as much accuracy as I can. I shall relate how many shipwrecks of its liberty our church has endured, and how, whenever it seemed most deeply oppressed, it always prosperously raised its head against fortune through the patronage of the saint. I am well aware that I am unequal to the telling of these things; but under the guidance of the Holy Spirit, who already seems to have filled my sails with no sluggish breeze, I shall sail securely over the vastness of this sea.

Book Five Begins. #

¹ Aldhelm, then, sprang from the lineage of the Saxons and from a family undoubtedly of the highest nobility, yet by the nobility of his character he surpassed the nobility of his bloodline. Faricius played upon his name, saying that Aldelm meant, as it were, “nourishing old man”. But I, if it were permissible to steal the reader’s time from serious matters by inserting wordplay, would offer a very different interpretation by twisting the meaning, and say that Aldhelm means “old helmet”. For the saint himself plainly indicates in the prologue to his Riddles that his name ought to be written in this way, with the letter H inserted; and in his letter to Withfrid he openly calls himself “an ancient helmet of protection”. The man’s life accords with this interpretation, for, with his head protected by the helmet of salvation [Ephesians 6:17], and trained as a veteran in Christ’s warfare, knowing nothing of yielding to the enemy, he carried a rich laurel of victory over the devil up to heaven. Some say, though it is uncertain where they obtained this claim, that he was the nephew of Ine, king of the West Saxons, through Ine’s brother Kenten. I have not wished to claim as truth something that seems to accord more with shifting opinion than with historical fact. For it is clear from the chronicles that Ine had no brother apart from Ingild, who died a few years before him. I could also object that Aldhelm, who was no younger than seventy when he died, left Ine surviving him by more than eighteen years, and that the same king, after all those years, went to Rome while still in the vigour of life. Is it reasonable that a young uncle should have had a seventy-year-old nephew who had been born to his younger brother? Let whatever conflicts with the truth be set aside, and let what is free from doubt be stated. For anyone who reads the Handbook of King Alfred will find that Kenten, the father of blessed Aldhelm, was not the brother of King Ine, but was related to him by very close ties of blood. That Aldhelm was of Saxon stock he himself teaches in a letter which he sent to a certain Cellanus, in these words: “I marvel that, from the famous and flower-filled countryside of the Franks, the zeal of your learned brotherhood should address me, so insignificant a little man, born of the lineage of Saxon offspring and nurtured in the tender cradle of infancy beneath the northern sky.”

² His father, then, who, conscious of his noble birth, would tolerate nothing base, did not entrust his son to the school of an undistinguished teacher to be instructed in the first elements of learning, but to Adrian, abbot of Saint Augustine’s, whose pre-eminence in learning is evident to anyone who has read the Deeds of the English. There, while still a boy, having been instructed in Greek and Latin letters, he soon distinguished himself so remarkably that even his teachers marvelled at him. When, somewhat older, he had returned from Kent to the West Saxons, he received the religious habit in the monastery of Malmesbury, which is situated in the town that, according to what we have learned from the writings of King Alfred, was called Mailduberi by its ancient name, but is now called Malmesbury. A certain Meldum, who was also called Meildulf, a Scot by nation, a philosopher by learning and a monk by profession, had founded it. Having voluntarily left his native land come there, he was captivated by the beauty of the woodland, which at that time grew to an immense extent in that place, and adopted the life of a hermit. When the necessities of life began to fail him, he took pupils under his instruction, so that through their generosity he might relieve the poverty of his livelihood. In the course of time, these men, following their master, became monks instead of pupils and grew into a sizeable community. Formed for study by their example and companionship, Aldhelm added the liberal arts to the fullness of his learning. In order to drink these in to their very marrow, he studied once more in Kent at the feet of Adrian, who was a fountain of letters and a stream of the arts, until ill health compelled him to return home. Let testimonies now follow the substance of what has been said, lest the faith of the reader rest upon a weak foundation. That Adrian instructed him as a child, Aldhelm himself says in a letter to him as follows: “To the most reverend father and venerable teacher of my untutored infancy, Adrian, from Aldhelm, servant of the household of Christ and humble pupil of your piety, greetings, and so forth.” That as a boy he was both brought up and educated in the monastery of Malmesbury is indicated by Bishop Leutherius in the privilege by which he granted the abbey to Aldhelm: “I, Leutherius, by the grace of God bishop, was asked by the abbots that I should see fit to confer and grant to Aldhelm the priest, for the regular conduct of his life, that land which bears the name Maldulfesbirg. In that place, from the earliest flower of his childhood and from the very first training in elementary learning, he was instructed in the liberal studies of letters and, nurtured in the bosom of holy mother Church, lived his life.” That Meldum founded that monastery is stated by Pope Sergius in the privilege which he granted to the same Aldhelm: “Since your religious devotion has requested of us that, in the place of our founder, the prince of the apostles, we should strengthen with apostolic privileges the monastery of the blessed apostles Peter and Paul, which Meldum of religious memory founded, which is also now called Meldumesburg, situated in the province of Saxony, and which we know your religious devotion to govern with foresight, we grant our favour to your pious petition.” That he studied again in Kent but departed because of ill health is stated by Aldhelm himself in a letter to the same Adrian: “I confess, my dearest friend, whom I embrace with the affection of pure love, that ever since, about three years ago, I left your companionable fellowship and was separated from Kent, my humble self has until now burned with an ardent desire for your company. Indeed, I would long ago have considered how to accomplish this, as is my wish, and would have carried it through, if circumstances and the changing course of the times had allowed it, and if various obstacles had not delayed me, especially the weakness of my bodily health, which burns away and wastes my limbs to the very marrow and would not permit me to do so. Because of this illness, on an earlier occasion, when after my first elementary studies I was again staying with you, I was compelled to return home.”

³ It has, I think, been made clear by these testimonies that he was master of the liberal arts, having enjoyed the companionship of so great a teacher. Nor indeed did he fail to contribute testimony to his own praises, when he said that he was the first of all the men of his nation who ventured to apply his intellect and direct his mind to the knowledge of metre. These are his words at the end of the book which he wrote on Figures: “Here,” he says, “you have, according to the poverty of my ability, these observations on the kinds of metre and figures, gathered together with much labour, though I do not know whether fruitfully; although I am conscious that I may boast in the words of Virgil: ‘I shall be the first, returning to my native land, if only life remains, to bring the Muses with me from the Aonian summit.’”

⁴ Thus, fully instructed in letters, he did not neglect the songs of his native language either, so much so that, according to the testimony of Alfred’s book, which I mentioned above, in no age was there ever anyone equal to him in his ability to compose English poetry, to set a melody, and suitably either to sing or recite the same. Indeed, Alfred records that Aldhelm composed a popular song which is still commonly sung, adding a reason which reasonably explains why so great a man devoted himself to things that might seem frivolous. The people at that time were half-barbarous and paid little attention to sacred preaching, and were accustomed, as soon as Mass had been sung, to hurry home. Therefore the holy man placed himself as an obstacle in the path of those departing, upon the bridge which links the countryside with the town, presenting himself as though he were a practitioner of the art of singing. By doing this more than once, he won the favour of the people and drew crowds around him. By this device, gradually inserting words of Scripture among his entertainments, he brought the townspeople back to soundness; for if he had thought that he should deal with them harshly and by excommunication, he would certainly have achieved nothing.

⁵ How highly he was regarded because of the fame of his distinguished learning is shown by the letters sent to him by his friends. I say nothing of his fellow-countrymen, who vied with one another in sending him their writings to undergo the judgement of his critical assessment. I pass over the Scots, who at that time were especially learned and are known to have done the same. I could name some of them who were by no means obscure in letters, especially Artwil, son of the king of Scotland. Whatever work of literary skill he produced, and it was by no means insignificant, he submitted to Aldhelm’s judgement, so that the roughness of its Scottish style might be smoothed away by the file of a perfected intellect. Men came to him for the sake of learning even from the very heart of the Frankish lands, as this letter plainly shows:

⁶ “To Aldhelm the archimandrite, enriched by the pursuits of reading and adorned with honeyed literary compositions, who wonderfully discovers on the shores of the Saxons what some scarcely acquire with labour and sweat beneath a foreign sky, from Cellanus, born on the island of Ireland, lying hidden in a remote corner of the Frankish frontier, an exile from a renowned colony, the lowest and meanest servant of Christ: greetings in the whole and secure Trinity.” And a little later: “As though borne on winged flight, the celebrated report of your Latin eloquence has reached the ears of my poverty; the hearing of keen readers does not recoil from it, for it is known without mockery or the deceit of any bitter dregs, because of the splendour of Alburnus, teacher of Roman eloquence. Although we have not deserved to hear you in person, we have nevertheless read your compositions, constructed with sound judgement and adorned with the delights of various flowers. But if you would refresh the sorrowful heart of an exile, send a few little words from those most beautiful lips of yours, from whose purest fountain sweet streams may flow forth and refresh the minds of many, to the place where Lord Furseus rests in his holy and incorrupt body.”

⁷ How generously he replied to this letter is attested by that letter of his from which the passage recently quoted provided evidence that Aldhelm was of Saxon birth. Moreover, it is not easy to relate how effective he was in exhorting his friends and disciples: the former to show their friends an unbroken loyalty, and the latter to guide their tender years according to the exact standard of divine instruction. Yet brief examples of each kind of admonition will be given here, so that through them the man’s loyalty towards his friends and his concern for his disciples may become clear. When Bishop Wilfrid, about whom I have said no little in the Third Book, was being driven into exile, many of his abbots, following the wheel of fortune, were contemplating turning towards the favour of his enemies. Aldhelm, mistrusting their righteousness and fearing for his venerable friend, endeavoured to strengthen those who were wavering with these words. After a suitable preface, he says: “Recently, as you have learned by experience, a furious disturbance like a tempest shook the foundations of the Church as though by some immense earthquake, and its noise, like the crash of thunder, resounded far and wide through various regions of the earth. Therefore, brethren bound to me from the heart, I entreat you with earnest prayer, bending the joints of my knees, not to be scandalised in any way by the turmoil of this disturbance, nor to let any of you grow sluggish in faith through idle indolence, even if necessity should require you to be driven from your native land together with your own bishop, deprived of the dignity of his episcopate, and to travel to whatever overseas regions of far-flung kingdoms may be necessary. For what hardship, I ask, however severe or cruel, could separate you and keep you from that bishop who, from the very beginning of your elementary instruction and from the earliest infancy of your tender age right up to the flower of mature youth, advanced you with fatherly devotion by nurturing, teaching and correcting you? Like a nurse carrying her beloved children, refreshing them within the embrace of her outstretched arms, so he gently clasped you, cherished in the bosom of his love [1 Thessalonians 2:7]. Consider, I ask you, the order of created things and the nature implanted in them by God, so that, by comparison with even the smallest creatures, you may, with Christ’s favour, learn an unbending rule of conduct. Consider how swarms of bees, when the heat from heaven grows warm, eagerly emerge from their hives fragrant with nectar; and when their leader leaves their winter dwelling-places, companies of densely gathered hosts mass together in swift flight towards the sky, except only those left behind to guard their ancient homes for the propagation of future offspring. Look, I say, something still more wonderful to tell: when their king, surrounded by dense ranks of companions, goes forth with the swarm from the winter quarters and searches the hollow strength of tree-trunks, if he is hindered by a scattering of dusty sand or delayed by sudden showers dripping from the floodgates of the heavens, and returns to the welcome enclosure and his former home, the whole army immediately breaks through the familiar entrances and joyfully enters the old confines of its cells.” And after other things: “If, therefore, a creature lacking reason, governed by the laws of nature implanted within it without written laws, obeys the command of its leader through the recurring succession of the seasons, answer me, I ask: should not those be reproached with the infamy of a dreadful abomination who, though endowed with the grace of the sevenfold Spirit [Isaiah 11:2], break the reins of devoted obedience in the manner of a frenzied horse? But hear why I run through arguments drawn from various things with a scratching pen, gathering them together to spur the innermost feelings of your hearts. Look, even secular men who are strangers to divine knowledge, if they abandon a devoted lord whom they loved in prosperity when the abundance of good fortune has ceased and the adversity of calamity has overtaken him, and if they prefer the secure leisure of their pleasant homeland to the hardships of their exiled lord, are they not regarded by everyone with detestable ridicule, laughter and jeering? What, then, will be said of you if you leave alone in exile the bishop who nurtured you and raised you up?” And so forth.

⁸ Having set forth an example of the firmest loyalty towards a friend, there follows an excellent admonition to a disciple:

⁹ “To my most beloved son and at the same time disciple Adilwald, from Aldhelm, the least of the servants of God, greetings. Just as I have taken care on several occasions to admonish you verbally about certain matters, so now, though you are absent, relying upon a father’s authority according to God, I do not shrink from exhorting you by letter. For we do this because, as the Apostle says, “the love of Christ compels us” [2 Corinthians 5:14]. Therefore, my dearest son, although you are young in years, do not subject yourself excessively to the most vain pleasures of this world, whether in daily drinking and feasting, dishonourably excessive through too frequent and prolonged indulgence, or in blameworthy roaming on horseback, or in any detestable pleasures of bodily gratification. Always remember what is written: “Youth and pleasure are vain” [Ecclesiastes 11:10]. Nor should you give yourself beyond measure to an excessive love of money or to any boastfulness in worldly glory, which is always hateful to God, remembering that saying: “What does it profit a man if he gains the whole world, but suffers the loss of his own soul?” [Matthew 16:26] “For the Son of Man shall come in his glory and that of the holy angels, and he shall repay each person according to his works” [Matthew 16:27]. But much more, my most beloved son, always devote yourself attentively either to divine reading or to holy prayers. If, moreover, you labour to acquire any knowledge of secular literature, see that you do so for this reason alone: because in the divine law all, or almost all, the arrangement of words is constructed according to the principles of grammatical art, so that in reading you may understand the deepest and most sacred meanings of that divine discourse all the more easily, the more fully you have first learned the very diverse rules of the system by which it is composed. Do not neglect to keep this letter continually among the other books which you read, so that, by reading it very frequently, you may be admonished in my place to fulfil the things written in it. Farewell.”

¹⁰ Would that this reading might bring benefit and advantage to the monks who profess themselves disciples of Aldhelm, so that at last, having spurned enticements, they might follow in the footsteps of his holiness and learning. For without doubt his institutions would never be torn away if we did not transgress his commands. But because we have sinned against him, we are deservedly punished. Meanwhile he lies silent as though he knew nothing, and acts as though he did not see, while we are tossed amid dangers, while his privileges are mocked by the rebellious, and while they are trampled underfoot by tyrants. But let us return, though late, to our senses, so that he may look with an eye of compassion upon his servants, already tossed by many dangers, and gather them again into the bosom of his mercy.

¹¹ Nevertheless, to resume the narrative, Bede placed the highest crown upon the praises of his learning, since both, by reason of his nearness in time, he knew the matter as it truly was, and, through his devotion to truth, he would not lie. After listing some of Aldhelm’s books, he added: “He wrote several other works as well, being a man most thoroughly learned in every respect. For he was polished in speech and remarkable for his learning in both ecclesiastical and secular writings.” Could anything more exalted than this praise be said? Finally, I shall cite Aldhelm himself as a witness to which studies in particular he devoted his mind during his second stay in Kent, although he never refused the study of any of the arts. For in a letter to Hedda, his predecessor, he describes his own labour and commends the exercise of study in these words: “I confess, most blessed bishop, that I had long ago resolved, if the swiftly changing course of events permitted it, to celebrate there, rejoicing in the company of the brethren, the approaching solemnity of the Lord’s Nativity which I so greatly desired, and afterwards, if life remained my companion, to enjoy the presence of your charity. But because, delayed by various obstacles, as the bearer of this letter will explain to you by word of mouth, I was unable to accomplish this, I therefore beg you to grant pardon for the difficulty. For no short intervals of time must be devoted to this pursuit of learning, at least by one who, fired with eagerness for reading, would thoroughly examine the laws of Roman legislation and scrutinise in the depths of his heart all the secrets of the jurists. And what is far more intricate than these things: to distinguish a hundred kinds of metre according to the rules of verse, and to examine the patterns of musical song according to the proper course of syllables. For students of this subject an obscurity all the more inextricable presents itself, the fewer learned teachers there are to be found. But the narrow limits of a letter do not permit me to discuss these matters at great length: how, namely, the hidden instruments of the metrical art itself are composed of letters, syllables, feet, poetic figures, verses, tones and quantities; how also the sevenfold divisions of poetic discipline, that is, acephalous, protilic, and the rest, are varied; which verses are monoschematic, which pentaschematic, which decaschematic, according to a fixed measure of feet; and by what method catalectic, brachycatalectic and hypercatalectic verses are distinguished by careful reasoning. These things, I think, and others like them, cannot possibly be mastered in a brief space of time. As for the principles of calculation, what need is there to speak of them, when the overwhelming difficulty of so great a computation weighed down the neck of my mind so heavily that I came to regard all my previous labour in reading as of little account, although I had formerly believed that I knew its secret chambers? And, to use the words of blessed Jerome, since the occasion presents itself: “I who formerly seemed to myself somewhat learned began once again to be a pupil.” Thus at last, relying upon heavenly grace, through persistent study I discovered the most difficult principles of the subject and the computations of calculation which they call the parts of number. As for the zodiac and the system of the twelve signs which are carried around in the revolution of the heavens, I think it better to remain silent, lest an obscure and profound art, which requires lengthy explanation, should be brought into disrepute and contempt if it were exposed in a cheap form of interpretation, especially since expertise in the art of astrology and the intricate calculation of the horoscope require the painstaking investigation of a learned teacher.”

¹² Filled with delight in such arts, he himself also brought forth from the most sacred storehouse of his heart little books of good fruit, lest he should never open the treasures he had gathered for so long, or never set down anything of what he had heard. His first trial of his talent was in the book which he wrote to the Britons, urging them to return to the true Easter; but I do not know what misfortune has begrudged us the use of its teaching and deprived us of that pleasure. There is also his book “On the Praise of Virgins”, composed with rhetorical elegance, in which he first proclaims the glory of virginity and afterwards shows, through the example of the celibacy of the saints, that it is not difficult. On the same subject he composed another work in heroic verse, to which he added a third, likewise in verse, “On the Battle of the Eight Principal Vices”. There also survives a distinguished book of his “On Riddles”, emulating the poet Symphosius, divided into one hundred titles and a thousand verses. He ingeniously constructed the prefaces to both works with recurring verses, so that in the work “On the Praise of Virgins” each of the letters of this verse:

¹³ “Let beginners in metre now bring forth chaste songs,”

¹⁴ began, one by one, each verse of the preface from beginning to end, and the same letters, counted backwards through the number of the verses, formed the same verse. In the work “On Riddles”, however, he devised a different arrangement, so that this verse,

¹⁵ “Aldhelm sang odes in a thousand verses,”

¹⁶ supplied both the first and last letters of each verse in the prologue, beginning and ending them, and made both extremities correspond. In these works the man displayed both the playfulness and the artistry of ancient literature, while vigorous and eloquent expression accompanied subjects of little seriousness. Moreover, for a certain Aldfrid, king of the Northumbrians, who, as Bede relates, was well educated in letters, he produced a book containing these chapters: “On the Dignity of the Number Seven, Gathered from the Flowers of the Old and New Testaments and the Disciplines of the Philosophers.—On the Admonition of Brotherly Love.—On the Nature of Insensible Things, Which Are Represented as Speaking According to Metaphor.—On the Rules of Feet.—On Metaplasm.—On Synaloepha.—On the Scansion and Elision of Verses.—On Metre, in Alternating Question and Answer.” He also composed many “Letters”, most of which do not survive, while the negligence of our predecessors mutilated portions of some that we possess. His “Sermons” give less pleasure than those would wish who, careless of their subject matter, weigh only the words. They are unreasonable judges, unaware that styles of composition vary according to the customs of different peoples. Thus the Greeks are accustomed to write intricately, the Romans splendidly, and the English pompously. This can be observed in all ancient charters, in how greatly they delight in certain obscure words borrowed from Greek. Aldhelm, however, conducts himself with greater moderation and uses foreign words only very rarely and when necessary. Eloquent speech sets forth orthodox doctrine, and rhetorical ornament embellishes his most forceful assertions. If you read him thoroughly, you will think him Greek for his acuteness, swear him Roman for his polish, and recognise him as English for his magnificence.

¹⁷ Having somehow completed the first part of my undertaking, I shall proceed to the second, which promises to show what monasteries Saint Aldhelm founded, with what privileges he distinguished them, and with what estates he enriched them. This will be easily accomplished, because the main part of the task will be completed through the labour of others. I therefore choose to preface the necessary material in my own words, seizing the opportunity to hasten the work, and then, with my concern lightened, to range through the writings of others. From what has been said above, then, it may be understood that Meildulf built, or rather began, the monastery of Malmesbury, which a more corrupt age now calls Malmesbury. For there was such a shortage of necessities there that its inhabitants could scarcely obtain their daily sustenance. But Aldhelm’s nobility remedied this lack of provisions, as the course of the narrative will show. Until a few years before the present time, a very small church could be seen there, which ancient tradition, though it is uncertain whether truthfully, said that Meildulf had built. He is also said to have built a more spacious church in honour of the Lord and Saviour and of the chief apostles Peter and Paul. That this church was from ancient times the principal church of the place and the home of the monastic community is confirmed by the authority of the charters which I shall set out below, and these refute disbelief. And because it was then customary, at the dedication of new churches, to set up some honourable epigram in honour of the heavenly Bridegroom and Mother Church, the holy man sang this wedding-song in honour of the apostles: “Here flourishes the glory of this newly built temple, worthy to be celebrated, which displays the shining standards of holy triumph. Here Peter and Paul, lights of a darkened world, foremost fathers who govern the reins of the people, are celebrated with frequent songs in this gracious hall. O bearer of the keys of heaven, you who open the gate in the heights [Matthew 16:19], who by your merits unlock the shining kingdoms of the Thunderer, mercifully hear the prayers of the people who beg you, who wet their withered faces with streams of tears. Receive the groans of those who lament the sins they have committed, whose fervent entreaty burns away the sins of their conduct. Once fierce Saul, but now, your fierceness laid aside, gentle Lamb of God [John 1:29], Paul by a changed name [Acts 13:9], now graciously open your ears to the voices of those who pray, and together with Peter, as their protector, stretch out your right hand to the trembling who frequent and visit the sacred threshold of this hall, so that here swift forgiveness of sins may be granted, flowing abundantly from loving-kindness and from that heavenly fountain which never runs dry for worthy peoples throughout eternity.”

¹⁸ He also founded another monastery beside the river called Frome, as is recorded in the privilege which Pope Sergius granted to both monasteries. A church built there by him in honour of Saint John the Baptist still stands, and by its longevity has survived so many centuries. Moreover, widespread tradition maintains that a third monastery was established by him at Bradford; this seems to be confirmed by the name of the estate included in the sequence of the privilege which, when he was already a bishop, he granted to his monasteries, and which is set out in the characters of ancient writing. To this day there is a small church in that place which he is said to have built in honour of the most blessed Lawrence. But both monasteries, Frome and Bradford, following the way of mortal things, have fallen away into nothing, and only the empty name remains. Yet whether the destruction of such great establishments should be attributed to the frenzied wars of the Danes or to the rapacious feasting of the English, I could not easily determine. Malmesbury alone still flourishes, both in the number of its inhabitants and in the beauty of its buildings. I believe that this has been granted through the loving care of the saint, who dedicated himself and his body there, so that it might escape so many afflictions, endure so many calamities, and still sigh after the now-faint shadow of the liberty it lost long ago. Accordingly, because the other monasteries were destroyed, the estates which he bestowed upon them were swept away in the widespread ruin and have also entirely escaped our knowledge. As for how much land he added to this monastery, the first document that must be set forth is the privilege which Leutherius, bishop of the West Saxons, granted to Aldhelm himself. Seeing him rise to eminence through successive achievements in virtue, Leutherius ordained him there first as a priest and afterwards raised him to be abbot; and by this document he transferred possession of that place, which belonged to him by right, into the authority of the abbot.

¹⁹ “It commonly happens that, when the scorching heat of autumn has passed away, the wintry blasts of raging winds succeed it in alternating courses; by these the stormy blue waters of the sea and the immense depths of the ocean are buffeted from one side and the other, so that no one sailing upon the seafaring route can cross without danger when the furious wind tears the sails. In just this way, as the splendid glory of the world lies prostrate and its end now draws near, the surging tempests of the age seem by manifest experience to be bearing down upon us, so that truly and without any shadow of doubt those predictions of the Lord are at last proved to be fulfilled in our times, in which he spoke thus by a heavenly oracle: “Look at the fig tree and all the trees” [Luke 21:29], and so forth. Amid these turbulent storms of the age, therefore, the rudders of the Scriptures must be handled, and all the equipment and instruments of the ship must be made ready, so that, scorning the seductive song of the Sirens, the vessel may be brought safely on a straight course to the harbour of our homeland. Therefore I, Leutherius, by the grace of God bishop, holding the helm of the Saxon episcopate, have been asked by the abbots who are known, within the jurisdiction of our diocese, to preside with pastoral care over communities of monks living in monasteries, that I should see fit to confer and grant to Aldhelm the priest, for the regular conduct of his life, that land which bears the name Malmesbury. In that place, from the earliest age of infancy and from the very beginning of his elementary training, he was instructed in the liberal studies of letters and, nurtured in the bosom of holy mother Church, lived his life. And for this reason above all, brotherly charity seems to commend this petition. Therefore, assenting to the prayers of the same abbots, I freely grant the place which we have mentioned above, both to him and to his successors who with diligent devotion follow the rule of the holy order, being moved to do so by their brotherly petition, so that for all future generations, with every conflict arising from disputes removed, they may be able to serve God without hindrance in continual tranquillity and perpetual peace. But lest any occasion for contention should arise hereafter, I confirm this grant with the following condition inserted: that none of the bishops or kings who succeed hereafter shall, relying upon tyrannical power, violently attack this charter of our donation, obstinately asserting that the property appears to have been taken and separated from the rightful possession of the bishopric. Therefore it must be known, and proclaimed against those who oppose it, that I have added far more benefit and increase to the episcopal church than I have taken away from it by force. Finally, so that the same gift may remain perpetually more firmly established, we have ordered the same abbots to subscribe it with their own hands. But if anyone should attempt to render void these things which we have written, defined and decreed, let him know that he will give an account before the judgement seat of Christ [2 Corinthians 5:10]. Enacted publicly beside the River Bladon, on the seventh day before the Kalends of September, in the year of the Incarnation of Christ 675.”

²⁰ Having therefore been appointed abbot, he began to lead the monks towards fulfilment of their vows, to advance their reputation for good, and above all to seek the glory of God. And when the energetic favour of the abbot was joined by that of the bishop, the possessions of the monastery then began to increase enormously. People hastened to Aldhelm by every road, some desiring holiness of life, others knowledge of letters. For although, as we have said, he possessed learning of many kinds, yet in religion he was approachable and simple. He could overcome opponents with the thunderbolt of his speech and soothe his pupils with the nectar-like stream of his teaching. For both groups there flowed from his mouth discourse seasoned with wit, so that in each particular gift he was admirable, and in all of them together unique. Hence it came about that kings and earls of the Mercians and West Saxons, attracted by the man’s religious character, which the nobility of his birth commended, bestowed many things upon the place which would contribute both to the support of the monks and to the salvation of their own souls. The first of these, as we have learned, was Kenfrith, earl of the Mercians, related to the royal blood, a man belonging bodily to the world but serving God in mind, who gave Aldhelm ten hides at Wdetun in these words:

²¹ “The wanton fortune of this deceitful world, lovable not for the milky whiteness of unfading lilies but hateful for the gall-like bitterness of lamentable corruption, savagely tears the children of stinking flesh with poisonous bites in the valley of tears [Psalm 84:6]; and although by smiling upon the unfortunate she makes herself attractive to them, nevertheless she slopes shamelessly down towards the depths of Acherontic Cocytus, unless the Offspring of the High Thunderer comes to their aid. And therefore, because she thus slips ruinously away, we must hasten with all speed towards the pleasant fields of ineffable joy, where the instruments of angelic hymn-singing and jubilation, and the honeyed fragrances of roses, are received by the nostrils of the good and blessed with inestimable sweetness, and melodies are endlessly drunk in by their ears. Drawn by love of this happiness, I, Cenfrith, earl of the Mercians, with the consent of my lord King Ethelred, have granted to the venerable Abbot Aldhelm in perpetual possession a certain portion of land, assessed at ten hides, in the place called Wdetun, for the service of God and Saint Peter. In the year from the Incarnation of the Lord 630, in the eighth indiction.”

²² The gift of this most distinguished earl stirred and increased the king’s generosity, so that in the following year he himself granted two estates and confirmed them in a single document, which is as follows:

²³ “In the name of the Lord our God Jesus Christ the Saviour! “We brought nothing into this world,” as the apostolic oracle confirms, “nor can we carry anything out of it” [1 Timothy 6:7]. Therefore, with earthly and perishable things we must purchase those that are eternal and enduring. Accordingly I, Ethelred, king of the Mercians, at the request of my nobleman and kinsman Kenfrith, for the salvation of my soul and for the prayers of the brethren serving God at Meldulfesbirg, have willingly granted in perpetuity to Abbot Aldhelm and his successors, free from earthly services, thirty hides on the western side of the public road, and, not far away in another place, fifteen hides near the monastery of Tetta. And I have confirmed this gift of mine with my own hand by the sign of the holy cross, and strengthened it by the manifest consent of worthy men, so that after our death no royal presumption or secular authority may attempt to violate our decree. But if anyone wishes to increase and enlarge this gift, may God increase his portion in the book of life [Revelation 3:5]. But if anyone, relying upon tyrannical power, should endeavour to diminish it, let him know that he will have to give an account before Christ and the nine orders of angels. This charter was written in the form of a chirograph in the year 681 from the Incarnation of the Lord, in the ninth indiction.”

²⁴ The same king had a nephew, through his brother Wulfhere, named Berhtwald, of whom I spoke above in the deeds of Bishop Wilfrid; he was not indeed a king in authority, but a sub-king over a certain part of the kingdom. Moved by the love of God, he gave blessed Aldhelm this noble gift:

²⁵ “Those things which are determined according to the fear and love of the Lord by the devout generosity of a religious gift, although a spoken declaration alone might suffice to make them known, must nevertheless, because of the uncertainty of future times, be confirmed by public writings and documentary records. Therefore I, Berhtwald, king under the reigning Lord, for the salvation of my soul and the forgiveness of the sins I have committed, have resolved to confer and grant certain land to Abbot Aldhelm, namely forty hides on the eastern side of the river called the Thames, beside the ford whose name is Sumerford; upon this condition, that this portion of land shall remain perpetually free from every service owed to secular powers, for the provision of the needs of the monks serving God in the monastery called Malmesbury. And so that this gift may be established more firmly and securely for ever, we have also called as witness the most excellent monarch King Ethelred, with whose consent and confirmation this grant has been made. If anyone should attempt to act against this gift, or should seize it relying upon tyrannical power, let him know that at the dread judgement of all he will have to give an account before Christ [2 Corinthians 5:10]. Enacted publicly in the synod beside the ford of Bregford, in the month of July, on the thirtieth day of that month, in the thirteenth indiction, in the year 685 from the Incarnation of the Lord.” The following subscribed these three charters: Theodore the archbishop; Ethelred, king of the Mercians; Berhtwald the sub-king; Kenfrith the nobleman; Sexwulf, bishop of Lichfield; and Bosel, bishop of Worcester.

²⁶ At the same time Kentwin, king of the West Saxons, weighed down by sickness and old age, had appointed Cædwalla, a young man of royal lineage, as his successor. Although he was not yet either king or Christian, Cædwalla nevertheless anticipated the kingship in hope and sought baptism through faith. Accordingly, he rejoiced to be called king and, while making many grants to monasteries throughout the region, generously provided for this monastery, as is made clear in the following document:

²⁷ “In the name of our Lord Jesus Christ the Saviour! “The things which are seen are temporal, but the things which are not seen are eternal” [2 Corinthians 4:18]. And again the unstable frailty of this world is shown when the same Apostle says: “We brought nothing into this world, nor can we carry anything out of it” [1 Timothy 6:7]. Therefore, with transitory and earthly things the eternal crown of the heavenly diadem must be purchased. For this reason I, Cedwalla, king under the reign of the Lord, for the salvation of my soul and the forgiveness of my sins, have resolved to confer and give certain land to Abbot Aldhelm: namely, on both sides of the wood whose name is Cemele, from the eastern side of the boundary of the roads as far as the famous river called the Thames, one hundred and forty hides; and in another place thirty hides on the eastern side of the wood of Bradon; and five hides at the place where the two rivers Aven and Wilen meet, chiefly for the fishing needs of the brethren. Let this gift therefore remain firm and unalterable for future generations, so that no one may presume to violate the privilege of this donation. But if anyone, puffed up with tyrannical power, should attempt to act against this gift, let him know that he will encounter the obstacle of God’s wrath and, at the last judgement, will have to give an account before Christ and his angels. This grant was written in the first indiction, in the year 688 from the Incarnation of the Lord, in the month of August, on the fourteenth day before the Kalends of September. Happily.”

²⁸ In the same year he exchanged part of these lands with a certain Baldred for others which seemed both richer in revenue and nearer at hand. Nevertheless, by some turn of events which I do not know, although Cedwalla’s gift remained valid, the exchange became void after some years. The charter of this exchange is therefore as follows:

²⁹ “In the name of the Lord our God and Saviour Jesus Christ! I, Baldred, have resolved to grant certain land to Abbot Aldhelm, namely one hundred hides beside the River Aven and around the wood called Stercanlei and Cnebbanburg; and in exchange I have received from him one hundred hides, namely on the eastern side of the wood whose name is Bradon. And this has been ratified with the counsel and confirmation of King Kentwin and all his nobles and counsellors. If anyone should attempt to act against this, let him know that he will have to give an account before the judgement seat of the eternal Judge and in the presence of the holy angels [2 Corinthians 5:10]. This grant, or rather reciprocal exchange, was written in the month of August, in the first indiction, in the year 688 from the Incarnation of Christ.” The following subscribed these two charters: Hedda, bishop of Winchester; King Kentwin; and Cissa, father of Ine, who afterwards became king.

³⁰ Bede related at greater length the energetic conduct of King Cedwalla in worldly affairs after Kentwin, his devotion to God, and how, after triumphing over his enemies and gaining possession of the kingdom, he went to Rome, where he was baptised and happily met his final destiny. We touched upon these matters briefly in the History of the Kings. When he therefore went to Rome, the kingdom was renewed under Ine. Ine was a unique example of courage, a model of prudence, and you would scarcely know anyone equal to him in religion. The wars which he successfully waged are evidence of the first; the monasteries which he built bear witness to the second. Father Aldhelm stirred these qualities of the king’s mind with the spurs of his admonitions; Ine listened humbly to his instructions, regarded them with profound respect, and carried them out effectively. At Aldhelm’s urging he rebuilt the monastery of Glastonbury from its foundations, as I said in the Deeds of the Kings, and he bestowed lands of considerable value upon Malmesbury, accompanying the gift with generous written charters, of which the following is one.

³¹ “In the name of the Lord Jesus Christ our Saviour! I, Ine, king of the Saxons under the reign of the Lord, mindful of the reward of eternal life and fearing the everlasting punishments of hell, have resolved, for the salvation of my soul and the remission of my sins, to give a certain portion of land to the venerable Abbot Aldhelm for the enlargement of his monastery called Meldumesburg. That is, forty-five hides in the places named below by the local inhabitants: five hides in the place called Iserdun; twenty where the stream called Corsaburna rises; ten in another place beside the same stream; and ten beside the watercourse called Redburna. And this was enacted in the year 701 from the Incarnation of Christ, in the fourteenth indiction.” Hedda the bishop subscribed it, as did Winberht, the king’s cleric, who had also drawn up this and the other grants of Cedwalla. Aldhelm had once invited him by the following letter to become his patron with Cedwalla.

³² “To Winberht, most beloved in the Lord of lords, from Aldhelm, servant of the servants of God: greetings in the cornerstone of the two Testaments, cut from the highest peaks of the mountains, which crushed the statue fashioned from four kinds of metal, signifying the four kingdoms of peoples, striking it upon its legs beneath its golden head [Daniel 2:31–35; Daniel 2:44–45]. We have sent a bearer of this letter into the presence of your piety, who will explain to you more fully by word of mouth the matter of the necessity now pressing upon us. It concerns the land which the venerable nobleman Baldred offered us for possession after receiving payment, especially because it is a suitable and convenient place for catching fish. And therefore, since it appears that the land was given and granted under the authority of your king, we earnestly beg that through the patronage of your charity we may be able to obtain and hold that portion of land securely, lest, being violently deprived of the same possession, we should be defrauded, since the rights of justice often waver.” And so forth. These are the estates which the blessed abbot, through his own efforts, added to the monastery, pleasant in situation, agreeable in extent and convenient in proximity, so much so that anyone leaving the monastery at daybreak could easily make the circuit of them all that same day and return home while there was still abundant daylight. After his death, indeed, some people gave further properties; but plunderers carried them all away except these, although they have torn away part even of these. Thus through Aldhelm the place grew to four hundred hides and more, though previously it had scarcely possessed sixty. For the estate now called Brocheneberg, which is dependent upon the place containing the monastery, is reckoned at that number of hides according to the customary terminology of the country people.

³³ Now that, with the second part of my promise fulfilled, we have made no small progress and are, as it were, already in mid-ocean, greater strength is needed, so that, aided not by the winds of my own ability but by those of the Holy Spirit, we may drive the ship towards the shore of silence. Here, indeed, I shall disappoint the reader’s expectation if anyone supposes that I shall prove the miracles which I am about to insert by testimonies committed to writing from ancient times. But although I lack support in that respect, I nevertheless pledge the truth of them with confident assurance. For the things I am about to relate will be only those which universal approval has preserved, a tradition extending from ancient times. They will be things defended by the common assent of the inhabitants of the province, handed down to posterity through an unbroken succession. The divine power implanted them in the minds of men in place of written records, lest the wonders performed through the saint should perish uselessly. Therefore things which are proclaimed by the whole people through successive generations ought not to be regarded as groundless. But if anyone thinks I should be blamed because I write down things not seen but heard, let him summon to judgement the illustrious fathers and renowned heroes who did the same, Luke in his Gospel [Luke 1:1–4] and Gregory in his Dialogues, and call them under the same accusation. But if he judges that presumptuous, why, I ask, should I not be permitted to do on a small scale what they were permitted to do on the greatest? Nor indeed are these accounts of ours entirely without eyewitness confirmation, since we have seen them depicted upon the silver of an ancient shrine in the kind of craftsmanship which they call relief-work. Relying upon this, then, I shall carry through what I have begun, though in rustic language. Love of the saint will lessen the charge of presumption, so that anyone displeased by the eloquence may be pleased by the subject matter.

³⁴ After he became a monk, then, we have learned that he lived in the following manner. He devoted himself frequently to reading and earnestly to prayer, so that, as he himself said in a certain letter, in reading he might hear God speaking, and in prayer he might speak to God. By voluntarily restricting his food, he nourished his soul, and never left the monastery except when necessity required it. He had no desire for money; if anything was given to him, he immediately assigned it to useful purposes. Moreover, in order to subdue the force of his rebellious body, he would immerse himself up to the shoulders in a spring near the monastery. There he would remain through the nights without harm, caring neither for the icy cold of winter nor for the vapours rising from the marshy places in summer. Only the completion of the entire Psalter brought his exertion to an end. That spring, named after the saint and situated in the valley of the monastery, flows with gentle streams and is both pleasing to the sight and sweet to drink. In another part of the town a spring is called Dunibel’s, because there Daniel used to keep his heavenly vigils by night; he received the episcopal insignia at the same time as Aldhelm. Amid these things, my account would almost be ashamed to describe the man’s remarkable continence, were there not in the deed itself an occasion for glorious victory. For whenever he was troubled by the impulse of the flesh, he not only denied the enticement its fulfilment, but carried away from it an extraordinary triumph of another kind. Nor at such times did he shun the company of women, as others do who fear that opportunity may cause them to fall. Rather, whether sitting or reclining, he would keep a woman beside him until, when the heat of carnal desire had cooled, he could depart with a calm and unmoved mind. The devil saw himself mocked, observing a woman close beside the man while the man, his mind directed elsewhere, persisted in singing the Psalter. He would bid the woman farewell with her modesty preserved and his chastity unharmed. The troublesome impulse of the flesh subsided; the evil spirit grieved that he had been made an object of ridicule. My account is supported in its truth, as evidence of how greatly he cherished the love of celibacy, by his distinguished books On Virginity, in which he defines its honour, adorns its beauty and crowns its perseverance. For it is not right to believe that the holy man acted otherwise than he taught, or lived otherwise than he spoke. And so that this assertion may avoid every cause for doubt, hear how he admonished a disciple not to read the lascivious songs of poets, not to cling to the company of prostitutes, and not to effeminate the strength of his mind through the allurements of luxurious clothing.

³⁵ “To Wihtfrid, worthy of reverent love and delightful veneration, from Aldhelm, your humble servant: everlasting salvation in Christ. It has been reported to me by bearers of rumours that your diligent charity, fired with eagerness for learning, has resolved, under the Lord’s guidance, to undertake a journey overseas. Therefore, if life remains your companion and you reach the desired harbour of Ireland, read above all the most sacred prophecies, rejecting the fictions of the philosophers. For I consider it absurd, after despising the intricate rule of the new and old Testament, to make one’s way through the slippery bypaths of thorny countryside, or rather through the wayward windings of the philosophers; or indeed, after the clear waters of glassy springs have been opened, thirstily to drink marshy, briny and muddy waters, in which a black host of toads swarms in crowds and the noisy croaking of frogs resounds. What benefit, I ask, does it bring to the sacrament of the orthodox faith to labour, by detailed reading and investigation, over Circe’s defilement and the incest of filthy Proserpina, things which one recoils from even mentioning; or to honour through the acclaim of reading the wanton Hermione, offspring of Menelaus and Helen, who, as ancient writings relate, had formerly been betrothed by right of dowry to Orestes, but afterwards, when the decision was changed, married Neoptolemus; or to engrave in heroic style the histories of the priests of the frenzied Luperci, like parasites sacrificing to Priapus? These vanished utterly and were cast down to the ground when once the serpent was raised upon the top of the staff and displayed before the eyes of the Hebrew assembly [Numbers 21:8–9], that is, when the life-giving Death of death was fastened to the wood of the gibbet [John 3:14–15]. Moreover, compelled by fervent report, I beg you as my disciple, bending as it were with bowed knees and flexed legs, that you should by no means visit brothels or the follies of houses of prostitution, in which ostentatious prostitutes lurk amid the enticements of luxury, adorned with gleaming refined gold upon their anklets and with twisted bracelets upon their arms, like ceremonial chairs decked with trappings. Rather, scorning the lofty roof the hall enjoyed by nobles and magistrates, may your fortunate brotherhood happily be content with the shelter of a humble dwelling; and against the freezing blasts of winter which arise from the northern quarter, neglecting, as befits a disciple of Christ, dyed purple garments, let it instead use the covering of a light cloak and the unadorned protection of a sheepskin.”

³⁶ The holiness of his conduct, then, bore fruit in miracles. And, to come to the occasions that gave rise to them, he first came forward for the religious welfare and correction of the Britons. For the Britons, who had once possessed the whole land which is now called England, were then being enslaved by the English. The English had rendered this service to those who had invited them: seizing their opportunities, they drove from their ancient homes the very people whom they had come to protect and forced them into rugged and wooded regions, where, reduced to obscurity and living almost as savages, they passed their lives. Those among them who were called the North Welsh, that is, the Northern Britons, had fallen to the share of the kings of the West Saxons. For a long time they had suffered nothing harsh, diligently performing their customary services. But when they then contemplated rebellion, King Kentwin subdued them with so grievous a slaughter that they entertained no further hope. Consequently, the final addition to the captives’ misfortunes was the payment of tribute, so that those who had previously been able to touch at least the mere shadow of liberty now openly groaned beneath the yoke of subjection. To their misery was added error in matters of sacred belief: as though situated outside the world, they obeyed their own traditions rather than those of Rome. They rejected several other Catholic practices, but above all they refused to celebrate the sacred Paschal feast on the lawful day. Neither the unanimous custom of the universal Church nor the admonitions of the most blessed Augustine, archbishop of Canterbury, persuaded them that this should be corrected, and they obstinately maintained the controversy. Hence there were frequent assemblies of the West Saxons and repeated gatherings summoned to determine what should be done so that the Britons subject to them, converted anew, might enter the right path of ecclesiastical observance. After the matter had been debated for several days with a great abundance of words, the decision reached was this: the schismatics should not be compelled by force, but guided by reason. Accordingly, whatever could demolish their errors and whatever could withstand their obstinacy should be committed to writing, so that, persuaded by the arguments contained in those writings, they might correct their minds. Nothing stood in the way of this being done, provided that Abbot Aldhelm would deign to admonish those in error. It befitted his manner of life that he should be willing, and his learning that he should be able, to cure any long-standing disease of unbelief. The most blessed man was therefore entreated by the prayers of everyone to devote this labour to the conversion of the schismatics, to the honour of his country, and to the common salvation of all. He accepted the task which charity arising from the hearts of his brethren urged upon him, and his effectiveness in completing it was no less than his obedience in undertaking it. Thus he refuted the false Easter and taught the true one. His own discourse was seasoned with testimonies from the Gospels, while the thunderbolt of invincible reasoning was followed by a shower of assertions from the Fathers. Having therefore completed the work with the highest praise, he sent it to the Britons, adding prayers to God, so that for those upon whom he had bestowed his words he might also multiply his petitions. For this is the twofold diligence of an ecclesiastical steward: in correcting those who stray, rebuke must neither be absent from his mouth nor prayer slumber in his heart. Nor could the labour of so holy a man be deprived of its effect; rather, attaining a praiseworthy conclusion, it converted those in error to the true religion. To this day the Britons owe their correction to Aldhelm, although, because of their ingrained perversity, they neither acknowledge the man nor have they preserved his book.

³⁷ The principal church of the monastery, as I have said, was that of Saint Peter. Nevertheless, since a noble and industrious mind knows no rest from work, he resolved to build another church within the precincts of the same monastery in honour of Mary, the Mother of God. He therefore built a church to her, and another adjoining it in honour of Saint Michael, whose remains we ourselves have seen. Indeed, the entire structure of the larger church, famous and intact, survived even into our own age, surpassing in beauty and size whatever ancient church buildings could be seen anywhere in England. For the more elaborate construction of this church, after the stonework had been completed, a great quantity of timber was accumulated without any economy of expense. The saint pressed the work forward with still greater zeal, seeking to please the Lord by devoted service. They had now reached the laying of the roof-beams, which, purchased at great cost, had become even more expensive because of the difficulty of transporting them over so long a journey. They had all been cut to the same dimensions except one, whose shortness had escaped the craftsmen’s skill, whether through their carelessness or, as I would rather believe, by the divine will, so that the man’s illustrious holiness might shine forth. When the workmen noticed too late the loss caused by the wrongly cut timber, they first murmured among themselves and afterwards brought the matter to Aldhelm’s attention. He bore their fault calmly, though he was somewhat troubled by the difficulty of replacing the material. For he had provided no spare timber as a remedy, and bringing more wood from so far away seemed an immense labour. Therefore, despairing of human assistance, he placed his hope in God and resolved to remedy the matter by a shorter means. He was thus encouraged to perform a miracle, since he had already experienced many manifestations of divine power, though secretly, lest the breeze of human favour should scatter the most holy flowers of his conscience. And so, praying merely with the movement of his lips and exerting only a slight effort with his arms, he made the shortened beam equal in length to the others. Immediately, in order to conceal the miracle, he modestly reproached the craftsmen for having made sport of him about the defective beam, when it was in no respect shorter than the others. They applied the measuring-line, discovered both the miracle and its correction, and blushed with joy; and, far from resenting the sharpness of his words, they rejoiced that they had been overcome by the power of the saint who was concealing what he had done. The beam was therefore raised to the roof with the others by means of a lifting apparatus and completed the framework. Our elders handed down a trustworthy account concerning this beam: that even in the two fires which consumed the whole monastery in the reigns of Kings Alfred and Edward, it suffered no damage at all, until at last, worn out by years and decay, it perished.

³⁸ The monastery had now been built; the adjoining basilica of the Blessed Mary now shone more brightly; and Aldhelm could be seen and called fortunate, the patron of so many monks and lord of so many possessions. But he, looking far ahead with the eye of prudence, thought that provision should be made in advance against what might happen in the future. He resolved in his mind to go to Rome. The purpose of the journey was to obtain apostolic privileges for his monasteries, especially for Malmesbury, which, having originated through the generosity of Bishop Leutherius, might fall prey to the claims of his successors. Foreseeing these, as I have said, with a prophetic eye, he considered how he might either repel or weaken them. Accordingly, after taking counsel with Ine, king of the West Saxons, and Ethelred of the Mercians, whose friendship he enjoyed and whose generosity towards him was outstanding, and when they did not oppose his decision, he set out upon the road to Rome. Nevertheless, so that he might arrange what was necessary with greater freedom, he went to estates belonging to him in the district of Dorset. There, while awaiting a favourable wind, he built a church in which, while his companions were occupied with the necessary preparations, he himself might commend his outward and return journeys to God. The walls of that building still survive, open to the sky and without a roof, except that something projects over the altar to protect the consecrated stone from the filth of birds. Yet no matter how violently the rain may rage outside all around, not even a single drop falls within the enclosure of the church. The shepherds who tend their animals in the neighbouring fields now regard this not as a miracle but as something customary. For whenever the mass of clouds thickens and a storm threatens to break, the whole crowd of countrymen hastens there at a run and, standing within the walls of the church beneath the open sky, feels nothing of the rain. To disbelieve this is a mark of extraordinary shamelessness, when the testimony of so many who have experienced it confronts the impudence of those who deny it. Moved by this miracle, the nobles of the province more than once attempted to put a roof upon the building, wishing to offer the saint the service of their devotion. But when they discovered that their efforts were in vain, they stopped, understanding that the saint was pleased with this token by which a miracle might frequently be displayed. The abundance of signs performed there invites the people each year to his feast, and offerings of gifts and manifestations of healing are more frequent there than even at the place where his most sacred bones are venerated. By these things, I believe, God is indicating that the people of Malmesbury ought to regard the glory of possessing his body as more than sufficient, provided that they do not begrudge others the presence of his miraculous powers. The place lies in the district of Dorset, two miles from the sea, near Wareham, where Corfe Castle also rises above the sea.

³⁹ But, to return to what I had begun to say, after overcoming the dangers of the sea and conquering the difficulties of the long journey, he came to Rome. At that time Sergius was bishop of the supreme see, and he received the illustrious man’s arrival with the kindness it deserved and, as a bishop, supported him during his pilgrimage. The pope’s reverence for the abbot was increased because he saw that Aldhelm’s learning did not differ from the religious character of his life, nor his doctrine from his conduct. Favourable divine providence nourished the fragrance of his good reputation, exalting its servant in so great a city through the praise of his virtues. In Rome there is a residence called the Lateran, where the emperor Constantine converted his own palace into a patriarchal residence for the apostolic pontiffs. Aldhelm stayed there with the pope and regularly enjoyed his gracious companionship. He let no day pass without singing Mass, by whose solemn rites he relieved the weariness of his pilgrimage and commended himself and his people to God. When one day he had done this as usual, after Mass had been said he threw back behind him the vestment which they call the chasuble. He wrongly supposed that someone was standing there to receive it, for his thoughts were directed elsewhere and he was still filled with divine ecstasy. The attendant, showing little foresight, was occupied with something or other at another part of the altar. But “he who keeps Israel neither slumbers nor sleeps” [Psalm 121:4]; and when human diligence failed, he displayed his own wonders. Immediately a ray of sunlight shone brightly through the transparency of a glass window and, placing itself beneath the chasuble, carried it through the air, suspended some distance above the ground. Who could describe the outcry of the people there at that moment, when they saw nature, contrary to its nature, serving the servant of Christ? Fittingly, the man who always raised his mind towards heaven should have his garment suspended in the air, and the empty air should be made firm in his service, since he despised all earthly things as fleeting and perishable and longed only for heavenly things. This vestment, whether he had brought it with him from England or had merely borrowed it there for a time, is still kept among us. The garment which witnessed so great a miracle is preserved with the utmost care, and its custodians neglect nothing so that it may continue unblemished before the eyes of successive generations. It is made of the finest silk, richly dyed crimson with the juices of shellfish, and within it black circular designs contain figures of peacocks. It is both unusually long and splendid, from which we learn that the saint was of tall stature. The bones of his arms, and the other remains which we have been privileged to see, likewise bear witness that Aldhelm once grew to such bodily proportions as we may describe not as bulk, but as a fitting loftiness of stature.

⁴⁰ He remained at Rome, and God continued in his servant the grace of miraculous powers, continually bringing forth occasions by which he might exalt the man beloved by him. In due course an event occurred which provided the occasion for a second miracle. In the house of one of the papal chamberlains a child had recently been born. A report had gone out and spread noisily among the people that a woman who had professed the religious life, changed her clothing and veiled her head had given birth, and that no father was known. The pope was now accused of the crime, not by uncertain suspicion but by public outcry, because the woman was said to have been accustomed to visit him and converse with him in private. Such is the familiar wretchedness of mortal men: anyone struck by any misfortune is immediately assailed by everyone’s hatred. Then he is declared guilty of every crime; then he is judged worthy of any punishment. Thus popular madness pressed accusations against this praiseworthy pontiff and defamed with clamour a man than whom no one was ever keener or readier in learning, more upright or approved in faith, or holier and more perfect in life. He did everything that was holy and spoke everything that was Catholic, nor was he oppressed by fear of any earthly power. Indeed, when the emperor at Constantinople spoke against the Catholic faith, Sergius openly condemned him by a formal sentence, and included in the same condemnation the nobles who agreed with him, unless they came to their senses. How many letters he wrote on this account, and how many hardships he endured, other writings will teach anyone who wishes to know; I return to Aldhelm. Deeply distressed by the injury done to the pontiff, Aldhelm argued the unsettled case before the people with all the powers of eloquence he possessed. It was shameful and pitiable, he said, that they themselves should assail their own pontiff with suspicion of crimes. What authority would the Roman pontiff have among the Britons, or among any other nation lying beyond the Ocean, if he were attacked by his own citizens? Finally, it did not seem credible that a man who remembered that he had been placed over the whole world should entangle himself in the mire of such a sin. While he was pouring these words into the air—for a popular disturbance, once aroused, could not easily be calmed—he, somewhat more stirred by the consciousness of his holiness, said: “Bring the infant, so that with his own mouth he may remove the injury done to the pontiff.” They should therefore abandon their foolish suspicions and return to favour with the bishop; for his part, so far as it concerned the restoration of peace, he would not fail them. Some received these words with laughter, because the foreigner seemed to be promising something unheard of and presuming upon what was beyond his power. Nevertheless, when the infant was brought, though scarcely nine days old from his mother, Aldhelm first renewed him in the washing of baptism. He then asked him publicly whether the people’s belief about his father accorded with the truth. Then, so that you might see the grace of God visibly at work, the little child, struggling into perfectly articulate speech, broke the knot of uncertainty. He declared that Sergius was holy and undefiled, and that he had never had relations with the woman. The people applauded the miracle; the innocent pontiff rejoiced in his vindication. Rome extolled Aldhelm’s merit, and the repeated and reverberating cries of rejoicing shook the very stars. Yet when he was asked, since he had cleared the man falsely accused of being the father, to reveal the true father to the knowledge of the people, he refused to do so, declaring that his task was, if he could, to rescue the innocent from harm, not to crush the guilty with death.

⁴¹ Delighted beyond measure by such signs of miraculous power, the pontiff did not prove difficult to persuade, but granted the monasteries for which he was petitioned a carefully composed privilege of authority. I shall set it out here in full, so that there may remain no shadow of doubt as to how many curses they incur, and to how many punishments they will be subject, who now imagine that they can violate and transgress it with impunity:

⁴² “Sergius, servant of the servants of God, to Abbot Aldhelm and his successors, and, through you, to your venerable monastery. Those things which, out of regard for religious life, are granted to monks, the servants of God, so that they may have freedom to live their lives, are bestowed by bishops and worshippers of God in accordance with the decree of the Christian religion, not to give licence for indulgence, but to enable diligent good conduct and, without doubt, the complete dedication of themselves to divine service; so that, released from the bonds of the human condition, while they are made free from every obligation of secular service, they may devote themselves entirely to God, as the rule of their profession declares, and be intent upon his service alone. For reverence towards his majesty not only makes them free from the burdens of temporal authorities, but, because of their love of religion, also makes them worthy of the highest honour. Therefore, since your religious devotion has requested of us that, in the place of our founder, blessed Peter, prince of the apostles, to whom our Creator and Redeemer, the Lord Jesus Christ, deigned to entrust the keys of binding and loosing in heaven and on earth [Matthew 16:19], whose ministry we also exercise, though unworthy, and whose Church by God’s favour we administer, we should strengthen with apostolic privileges the monastery of the blessed apostles Peter and Paul, which Meldum of religious memory founded, now also called Meldumesburg, situated in the province of Saxony, and another monastery situated in the same province beside the river called Frome, in honour of Saint John the Baptist, both of which we have learned from the truthful reports of many people that your religious devotion, with God’s assistance, governs with foresight: assenting to this petition of your pious devotion, we exhort you to be diligent and watchful in the praises of God and in prayer; to adhere steadfastly to abstinence, chastity and purity; to be devoted to the duties of hospitality and kindness; to be obedient and humble in Christ; to love one another and agree together in holy charity; to preserve inviolate the integrity of the apostolic faith by serving the spiritual commandments and the rules of the holy fathers; to devote yourselves to good works; to show kindness to strangers and the needy; to render due reverence to the bishops and priests of the churches of God; to devote yourselves to God and flee secular cares and profits; to love temperance and poverty; to maintain communion with God through psalms, spiritual hymns and continual prayers [Ephesians 5:19; Colossians 3:16]; to practise abstinence as a purification of the body in every pursuit of life; to encourage one another in all God’s commandments and strive to emulate those who make progress towards what is better; to be diligent concerning your own salvation and trust in God’s protection; and to keep yourselves undefiled not only from carnal contamination but also from harmful speech and thoughts, so that the chastity and sobriety of both your body and your spirit may shine before the eyes of God. In this way the inner man may be illuminated by the grace of virtue, while the outer man may obtain praise for good conduct and reputation. Since, therefore, the benefit of episcopal favour is owed to such men, by these present apostolic privileges we decree that the same venerable monasteries shall be protected, so that they may now and for ever remain under the jurisdiction and protection of the same blessed Peter the apostle, our founder whom we ourselves serve, and of the Church which we administer, just as your religious devotion has requested. They shall be subject to the jurisdiction of no other authority, nor shall any bishop or priest, or cleric of any ecclesiastical order, at any time presume to assert any kind of jurisdiction over them for himself, or to extort or demand hospitality or any gifts whatever from the religious community, nor to establish an episcopal chair in their oratory or celebrate the solemnities of Mass there, unless he has been invited by the religious abbot and community. If, however, they need a priest to be ordained for them for the solemnities of Mass, or a deacon to be consecrated, they shall request this from the most reverend bishop who is nearby; and he shall investigate only those things which pertain to the holy rule under divine judgement and shall ordain without receiving any gift. If the religious abbot should die and the time comes for the election of another, the man whom the religious community of the servants of God chooses by common consent shall immediately be promoted, so that the discipline of monastic life may suffer no harm and the possessions of the monastery may not be lost through the absence of an abbot. Likewise, the bishop who is nearby shall, by the authority of the apostolic pontiff, bestow upon him the blessing of the abbacy. Since these things have thus been established, if any bishop, priest or cleric of any ecclesiastical order, or indeed any layman, whatever his rank, should attempt to transgress or violate what we have established under divine judgement, let him know himself guilty before the sight of God and excluded from participation in the saving body and blood of the Lord. May he incur the condemnation which Judas Iscariot incurred, and may he be struck down by the prince of the apostles as Ananias and Sapphira were [Acts 5:1–10], unless he repents of the presumptuous violation he has undertaken. But may life, salvation and everlasting blessedness belong to those who preserve these provisions and command them to be preserved. Farewell, most beloved brethren.”

⁴³ Triumphing in the privilege conferred by this document, and at the same time strengthened by the bishop’s blessing and by the pledges of sacred relics, Aldhelm eagerly set out on his journey home. He carried with him many valuable goods of foreign manufacture, bringing into his own country a new and remarkable abundance of such things. Among them was an altar of gleaming marble, white in colour, a foot and a half thick, four feet long and three palms wide, beautifully adorned around its edge with a projecting rim of the same stone. A camel, as it is said—for what animal of our own country could have borne so great a weight?—carried it as far as the Alps, and bore it without mishap. There the camel, or whatever four-footed animal it was, since it makes no difference what beast carried it, fell either because of the oppressive weight of its burden or because of the steep descents of the road. The fall crushed the beast and broke the marble into two pieces. While his companions lamented both losses, the saint repaired them with a secret murmur of his heart and by extending his right hand in blessing. The strength of health was restored to the animal, which immediately shook itself with a lively movement and stood upon its feet. The fracture in the stone, which had split apart not in a straight line but with a winding crack, immediately joined itself together into a solid whole. Yet, so that the memory of this wonderful sign should not fade, the scar of the break is still visible: healed indeed by miracle, but nevertheless clear to an attentive eye. Their sorrow ceased, and the journey was resumed. Thus, with the whole company unharmed, he reached the sea which separates Gaul from England. There, received within the peaceful embrace of a ship, after a prosperous crossing of the sea he was restored by favourable fortune to the longing of his countrymen. Everywhere he went he was met with great ceremony and lengthy preparations of welcome. Some of the religious filled the air with sweet singing, others carried the wood of the Lord before him, and others perfumed the roads with fragrant incense. Among the laypeople, some danced with stamping feet, while others revealed their inward joy by various movements of the body. All together praised God for restoring the light of Britain, which had for some time been casting its wandering rays across other lands. Nor did royal pride exclude Ine, ruler of the West Saxons, and Ethelred, ruler of the Mercians, from this rejoicing, especially since their longstanding affection for the man had now been increased by reverence for the greetings of the Apostolic See. Received, therefore, with great joy and eager expressions of reverence, he showed both kings the privileges of his monasteries. Reason required that establishments which depended upon the gifts of both rulers should also be confirmed by the consent of both. The kings’ religious devotion immediately responded to the pontiff’s words, and there was nothing lacking to prevent his commands from being followed closely with obedient readiness. They decreed that, whatever fortune of peace or discord might arise between the kingdoms of the Mercians and the West Saxons, those monasteries should enjoy tranquillity in the service of God. Although these memorable rulers would readily have done this out of their innate goodwill, Aldhelm nevertheless further secured their willing consent by offering them great gifts. He gave different things to each, but to Ine he gave the altar. Ine placed it for the service of the most holy Mother of God in a certain settlement which was then royal and was called Briwetune. There it remains to this day, providing, so to speak, a living testimony to Aldhelm’s holiness. There is also another, larger church there dedicated to Saint Peter, which tradition confidently maintains was built and consecrated by the blessed man. The eastern end of this church has recently been extended on a larger scale through the ambition of modern building.

⁴⁴ In this way, as I have said, the praiseworthy labour undertaken for the honour of the holy Church proceeded, and by now he was advancing day by day towards old age. But after an interval of some years, Hedda, bishop of all the West Saxons, whose see was at Winchester, departed from this world. His death was most welcome to heaven, because through the holiness of his former life he increased the number of its inhabitants; but it was grievous to mortals, because they could scarcely find his equal, willing to govern the circuit of so great a diocese. For whatever four bishops now govern, he alone then controlled, restraining the rebellious by authority and soothing the submissive by gentleness. By a synodical decision, therefore, the diocese, which extended beyond reasonable measure, was divided into two sees, one at Sherborne and the other at Winchester. The division was unjust and unequal, since one bishop governed only two districts, while the other governed everything contained within the immense extent of the West Saxon territory. Bishops were appointed to the two sees according to their merits in learning and their connection with their native region. Daniel was made bishop of Winchester, since he was a native of that region and was not lacking in learning. Sherborne fell to Aldhelm, whose distinction in wisdom and maturity of age fitted him for the higher office; moreover, love of his native land also supported his claim, since he was a native of that province. Thus, as is believed, by God’s agency, a unanimous election took place, and the most blessed old man was entreated to accept the episcopate. Men of every age and rank agreed in judging him worthy of the episcopal office: mature through well-ripened age, abundant in learning, and second to none in religion. But if you think nobility of birth should also be considered, something which the blessed Apostle did not entirely overlook in such matters, who was more noble than he, who was connected by the closest line with royal ancestry? His reputation and his life had always been such that not even the slightest adverse report had ever been circulated about him. He resisted as far as he could, diligently putting forward whatever arguments might assist his refusal and weaken their unanimity. But his efforts came to nothing, since he was defeated by the very argument which he had prepared on his own behalf. This was the burden of his years, which, as they looked towards the approaching limit of old age, warned him to rest in gentle leisure rather than undertake a dangerous office. But his hearers immediately turned this argument in the opposite direction: the more mature he was in years, they said, the more purified he was from vices and the readier in counsel. He therefore observed moderation and resisted for as long as seemed reasonable. But when he saw their unanimous and lasting agreement, he loosened the reins of his life to brotherly obedience, fearing to resist the divine oracle which had united the hearts of all and filled their mouths. The bishops therefore received a colleague, the clergy a father, and the laity a patron. From there, with everyone acclaiming him and no one protesting, he was led according to custom to Berhtwald, archbishop of the chief see, to be consecrated. Berhtwald graciously welcomed the election of his former companion—for they had studied letters together and had likewise walked the path of religious life together—and increased his favour towards him. Accordingly, he not only bestowed consecration upon him but also kept him with himself for many days, lightening the burden of his archbishopric by Aldhelm’s counsel and examining the merits of cases with him.

⁴⁵ It therefore came about that during those days he went to Dover, which is the nearest point on the coast to Canterbury, twelve miles away, having heard that ships had put in there. The harbour there, like most places on the coast, is turbulent because it is narrow. The crossing to it from the land of the Morini is very swift, involving a passage of only a few miles. Consequently, within that narrow stretch, waves running against and colliding with one another make the sea rough on the slightest occasion, and danger is encountered most of all precisely where escape from danger had been hoped for. But once ships have been received into the harbour, they enjoy the safest repose whatever the weather. I have said these things beforehand because they concern the matter I am about to relate. The saint was walking beside the sea, attentively examining the merchants’ wares to see whether the sailors, who had travelled from the coast of Gaul into England, had perhaps brought anything useful for ecclesiastical purposes; among other things, they had brought a quantity of books. Catching sight of a book containing the whole sequence of the Old and New Testaments, he became intent upon buying it and turned his attention away from everything else. As, with a knowledgeable eye, he turned its pages and bargained over the price, the foreigners assailed him with insults in the boisterous manner of sailors. Why, they asked, was he disparaging other men’s merchandise and diminishing the value of things that were not his? If he wished, he could examine his own possessions; he should leave other people’s goods at their proper price. Against the insolence of their words he replied with nothing but laughter. At last, while he was still enquiring about the price of the book, they drove him disgracefully away from the place, hauled in their ropes and moved farther from the shore. But divine vengeance did not delay long before punishing the insult to the saint more severely. A storm arose; a whirlwind raged. The clouds thickened, daylight disappeared, and the darkness of the sea and the terror of the air brought on night. The fury of the winds and the creaking of the ropes doubled their fear. The yard could not withstand the violence of the storm, and the side of the ship was battered by waves striking it from either direction. The rowers’ skill failed; the sailors’ expertise deserted them. They were already sinking, and all the elements seemed to have conspired to bring about the deaths of the wretched men, when understanding entered even their brutish minds that they were paying the penalty for the injury they had done to the saint whom they had insulted. They therefore cried out in lamentation and stretched supplicating hands towards the shore. They begged for help and promised to make amends. It was easy for the blessed bishop to forgive an offence when he had felt no pain from the insult. First, by extending the sign of the cross against the raging blasts, he somewhat diminished and subdued the storm. Soon afterwards, when he himself boarded a small boat and, through the strength of the rowers, reached those who were in danger, everything changed for the better. The whole tempest fell silent; the whirlwind bowed down. The altered course of the winds drove the ship towards the shore, so that the very forces which had previously threatened destruction now, gently carrying it along, promised their service. When the sailors had therefore gained the desired sands of the harbour, they freely offered him the book: he should accept it without payment and deign to receive the gift of servants whom he had brought safely out of the very jaws of death. He placed a fair payment in the balance between the two alternatives, so that he might neither deprive poor men of their goods at great loss nor reject the entreaties of suppliants. That volume may still be seen at Malmesbury, displaying a venerable specimen of antiquity.

⁴⁶ Having therefore returned to his province invested with his new honour, while in every respect he made his reputation equal to his office, he devoted himself especially to the liberty of his monasteries. He had his see at Sherborne, where he also built a church of remarkable workmanship, which I myself have seen. At first, fearing the uncertainty of human life, he wished to appoint abbots over his monasteries; but the monks, accustomed to the sweetness of their father’s rule, opposed this intention. He committed the substance of the matter to writing, lest it should be forgotten and lest his successors should turn necessity into tyranny, threatening with destruction under divine sanction those who would not obey. The text of that document is as follows:

⁴⁷ “Nothing in this world enjoys prolonged happiness, nothing possesses lasting dominion, nothing exists which is not carried along in its course towards the appointed end of life. And therefore we must enjoy the possessions of worldly things in such a way that we are never deprived of the benefits of our eternal homeland. Hence it is that I, Aldhelm, after divine grace had enthroned me, though unworthy and proved by scarcely any worthy conduct, in the seat of episcopal office, resolved in the secret affection of my mind that I should appoint, by canonical procedure and regular ordinance, a religious abbot over my monasteries, which, having long since been appointed to the rank of abbot, I had governed according to the Rule with the Lord’s assistance: namely, the man whom the spontaneous choice of my communities should elect for themselves with one accord. The pious persistence of my monks opposed these voluntary intentions of mine. And when I had diligently and repeatedly explained this with confidence in the assembly of my brethren, none gave his most peaceful assent to these wishes of mine, saying: “As long as you are sustained by the breath of life and remain with us in the course of this present life, we do not disdain always to submit our most humble necks to the yoke of your rule. But with this humble prayer and common request we beg you to confirm, by the testimony of the sacred Scriptures and the manifest consent of worthy men, that after your death neither royal presumption nor episcopal authority, nor any man of ecclesiastical or secular rank, shall claim rule over us without the free decision of our will.” I most willingly assented to this rightful petition of my monks, and especially of the servants of God, and in the monastery situated beside the river called Winburna, over which Cuthburg, sister of our venerable king, presides, with the welcome consent of the renowned King Ine and the approval of my most reverend brother and fellow bishop Daniel, I confirmed with the sign of the holy cross this most fitting declaration of their devotion and the petition of the servants of the Lord; and likewise the venerable king and the aforementioned bishop subscribed with the same devotion of hand. Not long afterwards, in the most holy council which is known to have assembled beside the river called Noodr, the authority of all the abbots of the Saxon people gave its assent to the same decree, with the consent of the royal power and the approval of the foremost bishops. But if anyone should contrive to act against the decrees of such illustrious persons and presume to violate the sacred provisions of this present document, let him know that before the terrible throne of the divine majesty he shall be struck by the sorrowful judgement of condemnation together with those who transgress the commandments of the Lord. These, moreover, are the names of the monasteries: Maldubesburg, Froom, Bradanford. This charter of confirmation was written in the year 705 from the Incarnation of our Lord Jesus Christ, in the third indiction.” King Ine, Bishop Daniel and Ethelfrith the nobleman subscribed it.

⁴⁸ Although, therefore, he seemed by this charter to have provided for his monasteries and warded off the tyranny of his successors, his illustrious spirit was not satisfied unless he also made provision for all the churches that were in West Saxony. Accordingly, influencing the king’s receptive mind with gentle admonitions, he obtained an edict of this kind:

⁴⁹ “In the name of the Lord God our Saviour! I, Ine, king under the reign of the Lord, with the counsel and decree of our bishop Aldhelm, together with the advice of all the priests of God and the petition of the monks who dwell within the diocese of the Saxons, grant this freedom to the churches and confer this dignity of privilege upon the monasteries: that, without hindrance from secular affairs and free from the tribute of fiscal obligations, they may serve God alone with unencumbered minds, and, with Christ granting his assistance, may practise the discipline of the monastic community according to the Rule; and that, for the stability and prosperity of our kingdom and the forgiveness of the sins we have committed, they may deign to pour forth prayers before the sight of the divine Majesty, and, continually performing the offices of prayer in the churches, may strive to intercede for our frailty. But if anyone should attempt to act against the written instrument of this decree, let him know that at the dread judgement he will have to give an account before Christ and the nine orders of angels. We decree that this ordinance granted by us shall be observed and confirmed in such a way that it shall be firmly established by an indissoluble law both for us, while life remains and by the favour of the Divine Power we hold the governance of the kingdom, and for our future successors who shall possess by hereditary right the sovereignty of reigning. For a fuller testimony of its stability, we have caused princes and senators, judges and nobles to subscribe it. Enacted publicly and confirmed in the place called Eburleagh, on the seventh day before the Kalends of June, in the second indiction, in the year 704 from the Incarnation of Christ. Happily. King Ine subscribed. I, Aldhelm, servant of the servants of God, have confirmed this decree with my own hand.” Ten abbots and nine nobles subscribed it.

⁵⁰ The divine bishop tirelessly carried out these things, well aware that his end was near. Earthly things had now become worthless to the man, and he longed for heavenly things. Therefore he considered it the best course if, before reaching the limit of his life, he should perform deeds which would remain as a memorial to his own praise and bring benefit and grace to those under his charge. And although his flesh, exhausted by years, refused to endure hardships, his steadfast mind, already reaching outward and drawing near to the very gates of heaven, overcame the decay of age. He therefore subjected the frail use of his body, which would not long afterwards desert the soul, to spiritual exercises. He continued his preaching through the nights just as through the days, and tirelessly made the circuit of his diocese. He himself continued fully, and no less than in the vigour of his youth, to practise fasting and other good works of that kind. Having therefore lived a life pleasing to men and pleasing to God, after four years of his episcopate,

⁵¹ He departed above, worshipper and companion of the heavenly ones;
He exchanges earth for stars, and fields for heaven.
His breath rises on high; the hospitable earth cherishes his limbs,
And each place claims its charge.
Phoebus had driven the Spartans with twice fivefold light,
When, freed from the world’s coverings, he departed.

⁵² There is an estate in the district of Somerset called Dulting, where he put off his mortal nature. He had previously given it to the monks of Glastonbury, while reserving for himself its usufruct. The building that witnessed his death was a wooden church, into which, as he breathed his last, he ordered himself to be carried, so that he might breathe his final breath there above all, as the inhabitants still affirm today through successive generations. When a certain monk of Glastonbury had rebuilt this church in stone and was having it consecrated in the name of God, a poor woman who had long since lost the sight of both eyes mingled with the densely packed crowd. With remarkable faith she forced her way through the throng, crying out that she should be led to the altar. She declared without hesitation that she believed the saint whose church was being consecrated would drive away a widow’s blindness, since throughout his life he had been accustomed to give solemn alms to widows [1 Timothy 5:3]. The boldness of her faith drew aid down from heaven, and serene light filled her sightless eyes. Nor could a miracle performed before the people remain hidden, especially since both the woman herself and her affliction were extremely well known throughout the province. It is established that in the same church there is a stone upon which the saint sat as he was dying, and many sick people are known to have recovered their health through water in which it had been washed.

⁵³ Then a heavenly vision shone upon blessed Egwin, bishop of Worcester, making known to him the death of his companion and commanding him to go to the place. Spurred on by grief and affection, he hastened his journey and quickly reached Dulting. After offering prayer for the repose of Aldhelm’s soul, he ordered that, in accordance with the saint’s wish and command, the body should be taken to Malmesbury. Trusting in faith, he restrained the tears of those who were mourning; he hastened the task, himself standing by to speed the work. The blessed remains were therefore carried forth, with a great company going before and following behind, while each person considered himself the happier the nearer he was. It was a great consolation to those accompanying the body merely to see the bier, if they could not touch it. For the very appearance and form of the lifeless body greatly eased their grief, while the grace that remained upon it and the unchanged features soothed their eyes.

⁵⁴ That funeral procession was renowned, for because of the frequency of miracles, stone crosses were continually erected at intervals of seven miles. Many who were disabled by long-standing illnesses came to these crosses in faith and, by the force of their prayers, obtained swift healing, while signs of miraculous power remain there to the present day. Nor should what I say exceed the belief of my readers, since there are almost as many witnesses to the miracles as there are inhabitants of the province. As the surest of these witnesses I cite blessed Egwin, who, in a certain document, after some other matters, says as follows: “After two years, the religious bishop Aldhelm departed to the Lord. Learning this by revelation, I summoned my brethren and attendants and disclosed to them the death of the venerable father. With hurried steps I came to the place where his sacred body lay, situated almost fifty miles beyond the monastery of Malmesbury, and brought it away for burial and buried it honourably, ordering that wherever the sacred body had rested during its transportation, signs of the holy cross should be erected.” All the crosses remain, and not one of them has suffered injury from age; they are called biscepstane, that is, “bishop’s stones”, and one of them may readily be seen in the monks’ cloister. This matter has reminded me not to omit what common report relates concerning Biscepes truu. There is an estate in a valley to which he is said to have come in order to fulfil his duty of preaching. While he was delivering a sermon to the people, he happened to thrust into the ground the ash staff upon which he was leaning. Meanwhile, by the wondrous power of God, it grew to an extraordinary size, was filled with sap, clothed itself in bark, and put forth a growth of leaves and the beauty of foliage. The bishop, intent upon his preaching, was alerted by the cry of the people and looked back; and, after reverencing the miracle, left God’s gift there. From shoots of that first tree many ash trees sprang up, so that, as I have said, that estate is popularly called “the Bishop’s Trees”. This, however, I have not asserted as certain, but I have not omitted it, lest I should be accused of passing anything over. The rest I confirm from writings or carvings made in ancient times; and, God being my witness, I have added nothing of my own, except perhaps where some word has slipped in for the sake of making the reading a little more polished. For Aldhelm has no need to be supported by falsehoods. There are so many things concerning him that might call belief into doubt, and so many that admit of no dispute. The countless signs which are now performed at his memorial reveal to those present the holiness of his former life.

⁵⁵ Meanwhile, the people of Malmesbury received their patron with immense lamentation and reverent affection. Veneration was joined to love, and faith struggled with devotion. You would not have known which feeling to choose: grief for a father, or joy for an advocate. Though they might rejoice that their patron had been sent before them to God, they were nevertheless compelled to grieve for the loss of the consolation of their life. After several days had passed amid these conflicting emotions, they at last allowed him to be buried in the church of Saint Michael, where that most holy man had long before prepared a burial place for himself. He died in the seven hundred and ninth year from the incarnation of the Lord, eighteen years before Ina, twenty-five before Bede, thirty-four years after he was made abbot by Leutherius, and five years after he was made bishop by Behrtwald. No written record, however, has preserved the number of his years; but it is a reliable inference that the saint was advanced in age, since, having remained in ecclesiastical office for a little under thirty-four years, he would not have received that dignity except at the lawful age, especially in those times. That year was a grievous one for Britain, and it either extinguished or carried away many of its lights. For in that same year Bishop Wilfrid died, of whom the preceding account plainly showed that no one in England was more energetic or more tenacious of justice than he. Moreover, King Kenred of the Mercians, Ethelred’s successor, together with Offa, king of the East Angles, set out for Rome and completed the course of his life. Their company was adorned, as I said above, by the blessed Bishop Egwin, who, after paying the last rites due to the blessed Aldhelm, both undertook and completed that arduous journey, bound of his own accord in fetters. But anyone who wishes to know these matters more fully will be informed elsewhere by the writings both of ourselves and of others.

⁵⁶ The body of the blessed man lay in the same church for two hundred and forty-six years. Throughout all that time, whatever miracles it displayed—and I believe they were neither small nor few—jealous oblivion buried them all and suppressed them all. The monks, however, transferred themselves to the church of Saint Mary, so that they might bring their needs nearer and more conveniently within the protection of the saint’s tomb; although, as we shall prove from the charters, throughout all the years down to King Edgar the primacy was accorded to Saint Peter. Now, with the Lord’s help, I shall begin to fulfil my fourth promise, by showing with what vicissitudes of fortune the monastery of Malmesbury increased, and also how often, unless the saint had extended his aid, it would have fallen into ruin. I shall therefore pursue my purpose through the succession of kings and the inclusion of their charters. Ethelard succeeded Ina for fourteen years, and Cuthred succeeded him for the same length of time. We possess the record of his gift in these words:

⁵⁷ “I, Cuthred, king of the Gewisse, constrained by the bond of the love of Christ and by the inseparable affection of charity, have, with the consent and knowledge of the distinguished bishop Daniel and of my nobles and dignitaries, granted to Abbot Aldhelm and the community living lovingly under his rule, in remembrance of their prayers and for the redemption of my soul, that I may be placed among the fullness of God’s elect, a portion of land as an inalienable possession in the place called Wdetun, assessed at ten hides, under the witness of the Holy Trinity, and with generous liberality and gladness, to the monastery of Malmesbury.” And a little later: “The copy of this grant was issued in the year 745 from the incarnation of Christ, in the same monastery, in the presence of King Cuthred.” It is therefore clear that this was done in the final year of King Cuthred’s life, while Bishop Daniel was still alive, who had been made bishop together with the blessed Aldhelm, thirty-six years after the death of that same father. From this it is evident that this Abbot Aldhelm, to whom King Cuthred gave Wdetun, was someone other than the great Aldhelm. It is indeed said that the second Aldhelm was the nephew of the first.

⁵⁸ Sigebriht succeeded King Cuthred for one year. Kinewlf succeeded Sigebriht for thirty-one years. In the third year of his reign he enriched this monastery with the following notable gift:

⁵⁹ “In the name of Christ! I, King Kinewulf, with the consent of my nobles, have granted a certain portion of land, amounting to about thirty hides, to the family of Christ established in the monastery of Malmesbury, to be held perpetually for the benefit of my soul. That is, the place where the two streams Meardene and Rotburne meet, together with the land surrounding them, according to the boundaries and limits of those places which the inhabitants themselves are known to know well, as well as the estate to which they belong, its pastures, meadows, dry and watered lands, and woodland areas. And these things were done in the year 758 from the incarnation of Christ, in the eleventh indiction,” forty-nine years after the death of Lord Bishop Aldhelm. Kineard, bishop-elect of Winchester, and Herewald, bishop of Sherborne, subscribed it.

⁶⁰ Against this same King Kinewulf, who had now been reigning for twenty-four years, Offa, king of the Mercians, fought over the estate of Benesingtune, and, having won the victory, seized both it and a very large part of the territory of the West Saxons. Then, as a hostile plunderer, he took away the monastery’s estates of Tettanminster, which Ethelred, king of the Mercians, had given, and Piritune, which Cedualla, king of the West Saxons, had given. The first he gave to the bishop of Worcester; the second his son Egferth restored by the following charter:

⁶¹ “In the name of the Lord! I, Egferth, king of the Mercians, in the first year of the reign granted to us by God, at the request of Brihtric, king of the West Saxons, and Archbishop Ethelard, have restored to Abbot Cuthbert and the brothers of the monastery of Malmesbury, for the forgiveness of my sins and for the repose of the soul of my father Offa, the land of thirty-five hides in the place called et-Pirigean, on the eastern side of the wood called Braden, which he took from them during his lifetime. I grant the same land on this condition: that it be free from the secular services owed to kings, in order to serve the needs of the brothers serving God in the same monastery, so that the memory of us may remain with them for ever in that holy place in their holy prayers. Moreover, the abbot and brothers of that monastery, in exchange for that land, gave me two thousand solidi of pure silver. And I have done this with the counsel of my bishops and nobles, whose names are written below. This was in the year 796 from the incarnation of Christ, in the fourth indiction, and in the eighty-seventh year after the death of Father Aldhelm. May God preserve and bless whoever increases this alms of mine. But the name of anyone who diminishes or violates it, which we do not desire, shall be rooted out from the land of the living [Psalm 52:5], and he shall be deprived of the fellowship of the saints, unless he makes worthy amends.” Archbishop Ethelard subscribed this charter; having formerly been abbot of Malmesbury and afterwards bishop of Winchester, and having attained the highest dignity, he had appointed this Cuthbert abbot of Malmesbury. Brihtric, king of the West Saxons for sixteen years after Kinewulf, subscribed it. The bishops also subscribed: Kineberht of Winchester, Denefrith of Sherborne, Hedered of Worcester, and Edulf, bishop-elect of Hereford.

⁶² Egbirht succeeded Brihtric for thirty-seven years, and brought all the kingdoms of the English under West Saxon rule, as they remain to this day. He was succeeded by his son Ethelwulf for nineteen years, whom some call Athulf. He was a man who surpassed all his predecessors in granting privileges to churches, and who finally surpassed even himself by a new act of generosity. For he made a shrine in which the bones of the holy confessor were to be placed, with figures cast in solid silver on its front. On the back, however, he depicted in relief the miracles which this account has already related. From this it has been supposed that there was then at the place a book of the saint’s life in which he read these things, but that it was afterwards lost in the time of the Danes. King Ethelwulf placed a crystal crest upon the shrine, on which his name can be read in golden letters. There are some who say that the venerable relics were raised by him; but when we come to that point, we shall follow the more commonly accepted opinion. For now, let us set down the king’s gifts which he bestowed upon the monastery.

⁶³ “While our Lord Jesus Christ, the supreme and ineffable Creator of all things, reigns for ever, I, Edelwulf, by the grace of God king of the West Saxons, on the holy and most celebrated solemnity of Easter, for the benefit of my soul and for the prosperity of the kingdom and people entrusted to me by God, have taken wholesome counsel with my bishops, earls, and all my nobles, that I should give a tenth part of the lands throughout my kingdom not only to the holy churches, but should also grant them to my servants to hold in perpetual freedom. Thus this gift is to remain fixed and unchangeable, free from every royal service and released from every secular obligation. It also pleased Alhstan, bishop of the church of Sherborne, and Swithun, bishop of the church of Winchester, that every Saturday the whole community should recite fifty psalms, and that every priest should celebrate two masses each week for King Edelwulf and the nobles who consented to this. And so forth. This charter was written in the year 854 of the Lord’s Incarnation, in the second indiction, on Easter Day, in our palace called Wiltun. The land belonging to the church of Meldubesburg which we place under this freedom is as follows: Piritune, thirty-five hides; Lacoc, fifteen; Suttune, five; Corsaburn, five; Criddanuille, ten; Cemele, ten; Dantesie, two.” He had, however, made a charter of freedom for the churches alone, which I have omitted here because I included it in the Deeds of the Kings, in the first year of his reign, the year 844 of the Incarnation and the one hundred and thirty-fifth year after the death of the blessed Aldhelm, in which he named these lands as belonging to Maldumesburg: Ellendune, thirty hides; Elmhamstede, fifteen; Vudetune, ten; Cerlatune, twenty; Toccanham, five; Minti, five; Reodburna, ten.

⁶⁴ “While our Lord Jesus Christ reigns for ever! I, King Ethelwulf, have given a portion of the land of the Gewisse, namely five hides, to God and Saint Peter and the community of Malmesbury, in the place called Toccanham, on condition that they continually pray to almighty God for us, that he may grant us prosperous times for the preservation of our faith and the governance of our kingdom, throughout all the generations of the English people. And let no one dare to remove this gift from the monastery without incurring the wrath and vengeance of almighty God. And this gift was made in the year 854 from the Lord’s Incarnation. May it also be preserved in peace.” Bishop Swithun and Alhstan subscribed it.

⁶⁵ “While our Lord God and Saviour Jesus Christ, who has saved all ages, redeemed the human race by his blood [1 Peter 1:18–19], and delivered it from the eternal destruction of the devil’s condemnation through right faith and the sacrament of baptism, reigns and governs us for ever! I, Ethelwulf, by no merits of my own but through the gift of God’s grace, king of the West Saxons and also, by the gift of the same God, appointed, through God’s gracious favour, to rule over the people of Canterbury and the whole southern nation of the English, have granted a small portion of land, namely five hides, in the place called Minti, to almighty God and to the monastery of Malmesbury as a perpetual possession, on this condition: that whoever attempts to take this land away from that church shall be condemned for ever. And this was done in the year 855 of the Lord’s Incarnation.” Celnod, archbishop of Canterbury, Alhstan, bishop of Sherborne, and Ethelstan, son of that same king and king of the people of Canterbury, subscribed it.

⁶⁶ He was succeeded in uninterrupted succession by three sons, who reigned for fifteen years. A fourth also, named Alfred, reigned for thirty years less six months. In his time John Scot came to England, a man of penetrating intellect and great eloquence, who had long before left his native country and gone to Francia to Charles the Bald. Received by him with great favour, he was regarded as one of his intimate circle. He shared with him both serious matters and jokes, and was his inseparable companion both at table and in his chamber. He possessed much wit and natural humour, examples of which still survive today, such as these. He was sitting at table opposite the king, on the other side of it. As the drinking continued and the dishes were finished, Charles, now in a more cheerful mood, after some other conversation, saw John do something that offended French courtesy and rebuked him wittily, saying, “What separates a sot from a Scot?” John turned the familiar insult back upon its author and replied, “Only the table.” What could be wittier than this remark? The king had asked about the difference in their manners; John answered in terms of the distance between their positions. Nor was the king offended, for he was so captivated by the marvel of John’s learning that he was unwilling to take offence even at a remark from his master. For that was what he habitually called him. Again, when the king was dining, a servant brought him a dish containing two very large fish and one small one. He gave it to the master to divide with two clerics who were reclining beside him. They were enormous men, while he himself was extremely slight in body. Then, as he was always finding some innocent amusement with which to enliven his fellow diners, he kept the two larger fish for himself and divided the one smaller fish between the other two. When the king reproached him for the unfairness of the division, he said, “No, I have done well and fairly. For here is one small one,” meaning himself, “and two large ones,” touching the fish. Then, turning towards the others, he said, “Here are two large ones,” indicating the clerics, “and one small one,” likewise touching the fish. At Charles’s request, therefore, he translated the Hierarchy of Dionysius the Areopagite word for word from Greek into Latin. As a result, the Latin text is scarcely intelligible, since its flow follows Greek construction rather than the arrangement of our own language. He also composed a book which he entitled “Perifision merimnoi”, that is, “On the Division of Nature”. It is very useful for resolving the intricacy of certain questions, provided that he is forgiven for some passages in which he departed from the path of the Latin writers by fixing his attention too intently upon the Greeks. For this reason he was also regarded as a heretic, and a certain Florus wrote against him. There are indeed very many things in the book “Perifision” which, unless carefully examined, may appear contrary to the Catholic faith. Pope Nicholas is known to have shared this opinion, for he says in a letter to Charles: “It has been reported to our apostolic office that the work of the blessed Dionysius the Areopagite, which he wrote in Greek, ‘On the Divine Names’ or ‘On the Celestial Orders’, has recently been translated into Latin by a certain John, a Scot by birth. According to custom, it ought to have been sent to us and approved by our judgement, especially since this same John, although he is said to possess great learning, is nevertheless frequently reported to have held unsound opinions on certain matters in the past.” Because of this ill repute, therefore, I believe he grew weary of Francia and came to King Alfred. Attracted by the king’s generosity, and raised by him to the position of master, as I gathered from the king’s writings, he settled at Malmesbury. There, after some years, he was pierced through with writing-styles by the boys whom he taught and gave up his life. It was a severe and bitter torment, for because their violence was great and their hands weak, they repeatedly failed in their attempts and repeatedly attacked him again, so that he died a bitter death. For some time he lay in an unhonoured grave in the church of Saint Lawrence, which had witnessed that unspeakable killing. But when divine favour caused a fiery light to shine over him for many nights, the monks, thus admonished, transferred him to the greater church and, placing him on the left side of the altar, proclaimed his martyrdom in these verses:

⁶⁷ “In this tomb lies the holy scholar John, who even while living was enriched with wondrous learning; at last, through martyrdom, he earned the right to ascend to Christ’s kingdom, where all the saints reign for ever.”

⁶⁸ King Alfred and his son Edward contributed nothing to this monastery, unless an exchange may be regarded as greater than a gift. I shall nevertheless set down the documents here, since they serve as evidence that this church was originally consecrated in the name of the Holy Saviour and blessed Peter, and thus it is worth hearing and examining the writings of the ancients:

⁶⁹ “In the name of the Lord! I, Alfred, by the grace of God king of the Anglo-Saxons, together with the consent of the venerable community of the church of Malmesbury, grant to my faithful man named Dudi a small portion of land, namely four hides belonging to that same church, in the place called Cellanpurd. After the lifetime of three heirs, however, the same land shall return without any dispute to the church of the Holy Saviour and Saint Peter at Mailduberi. This document was drawn up in that same place, which by its ancient name is called Mailduberi, but in our own tongue Maldumesburg.”

⁷⁰ In the course of time, however, under Edward, son of Alfred, the powerful earl Ordlaf, having bought the land from Dudi, restored it to the monastery in exchange for another piece of land. And this same man, who was of a peaceful and kindly disposition, when he entered upon the path of death, ordered that both properties should be restored without opposition. For this reason he was rewarded in that same place with an honourable burial and everlasting remembrance. The documents therefore read as follows:

⁷¹ “With the consent of Edward, most glorious king of the Anglo-Saxons, and also of his nobles who were then present with him, the community of those serving God in the place called by the ancient name Mailduberi, in the church of the Holy Saviour which may be seen there, most beautifully constructed in stonework, grants and conveys to the venerable Earl Ordlaf a small portion of land belonging to its own possession, namely five hides, in the place called Mehandun, in exchange for another piece of land, namely four hides, in the place which the country people call Cellepird. When the lifetimes of four heirs have ended, the same land shall be restored to the brothers of the church without any dispute.”

⁷² “I, Ordlaf, grant and convey to the community of the Holy Saviour at Malmesbury, in the place which the country people call Cellanpirdan, a small portion of land belonging to me by my own right, which I purchased with money from the venerable man Dudi, with the permission of my lord, the most glorious King Edward, in exchange for another piece of land called Mehandun.” And so forth. This document was drawn up in the year 901 of the Lord’s Incarnation, the one hundred and ninety-second year after the death of the most holy confessor.

⁷³ “In the name of the Lord! I, Edward, by the grace of God king of the Anglo-Saxons, have given to the venerable community of the church of Malmesbury a small portion of land in the place called Hanecintun, in exchange for another piece of land of the same extent, namely ten hides, in the place which the country people call Fernberge. The same lands are free from all secular obligations. I made this exchange at the request of the brothers and for their convenience, because the land which I gave to the same brothers lies only two miles from their monastery, whereas that which I received lies almost twenty miles from the same monastery. This charter was written in the year 901 of the Lord’s Incarnation, in the first year of my reign.” Ealhspid, the king’s mother, and Elfled, his wife, subscribed it.

⁷⁴ Edward, who reigned for twenty-four years, was succeeded by his son Ethelstan for sixteen years. He served the most blessed Aldhelm, his kinsman, as he himself said and as was indeed the case, with such devotion that he dedicated both soul and body to him. From that time onward the saint himself gradually began to display miracles of greater splendour and frequency, as though warning them that he disdained an unworthy burial in the earth. Nor did he cease until, a few years later, he was raised up and placed in a shrine. Meanwhile Ethelstan arranged for Elwin and Epelwin, the sons of his paternal uncle Epelwerd, whom he had loved with particular affection and who had been killed in battle against Analav, to be brought to Malmesbury and buried to the right and left of the altar in the church of the Holy Mother of God. The reason, as has often been said, was that when he invoked the name of Aldhelm he had been granted a heavenly sword and rescued from his enemies. From that day onward he bestowed upon the monastery several estates, many vestments, a golden cross, and reliquaries likewise of gold, together with a portion of the Lord’s wood, which Hugh, king of the Franks, had sent him. It would take too long to relate how devoted he was to building and restoring monasteries, how much barbarian power he overthrew with a very small army, or how he fixed the boundary of his empire in Scotland. For I might seem to be dwelling indulgently upon an ample subject and repeating things said elsewhere merely for rhetorical display. At the same time, it might appear an ostentatious praise of our church to commend so often a man who honoured it with many benefactions during his life and, finally, at his death with the relics of his venerable body. Nevertheless, I would venture to say this: although he either surpassed all who came before him by himself alone, or, to speak more moderately, equalled them, what he accomplished was nothing in comparison with what he would have accomplished, because an early day of fate cut short his mighty deeds. Thus, taken from the world at Gloucester by an untimely death, one that, had God willed otherwise, did not suit such courage, he was carried to Malmesbury and buried there beneath the altar of Saint Mary in the tower. Those, therefore, are mistaken who say that Abbot Elfric built that tower, since it is certain that he became abbot more than thirty years after Ethelstan’s death.

⁷⁵ Here lies the world’s honour, his country’s grief, the path of righteousness,
The thunderbolt of justice, the mirror of purity.
His breath ascends to heaven, released from the bonds of flesh,
The urn receives his triumphant remains.
The sun had illuminated Scorpio at its twelfth rising,
When that sign struck down the king with its tail.

⁷⁶ His services to the monastery were increased by the relics of many saints which he brought there; in purchasing them he lavishly spent his father’s treasures for a noble purpose, having been admonished by a heavenly dream. Thus from Brittany across the sea and from Normandy, since he was bound by a treaty of friendship with Count Rollo, he purchased many relics of saints, among them those of Saint Paternus, bishop of Avranches. He was an Aquitanian by birth, a monk from his youth, and later in life became a hermit. Having accumulated no small store of virtues through the pursuit of a more secluded philosophy, he came forth into public life, worthy to be a guide of souls because he knew how to govern himself. Thus, first as abbot in the district of Coutances, and afterwards as bishop at Avranches, he was not without miracles. When thirsty, with a slight blow of his staff upon a rock he brought forth water [Exodus 17:6; Numbers 20:11]. It was altogether astonishing that, when nature denied it, the man’s holiness should force veins of marble to produce bubbling water. He poured oil into the mouth of a girl who had lost the use of her tongue, and restored the organ of speech. A contraction of a woman’s fingers, long fixed against her palm, was released at the saint’s touch. He restored unharmed a boy who was swelling towards death after a serpent had sunk its venomous teeth into him, calming the distension of his skin and reducing it to its proper condition. Evil spirits, foreseeing the saint’s arrival, abandoned those whom they had made their familiar victims, excusing the timidity of their flight on the ground that they could not withstand the power of Paternus. Small birds, fed on grain which he had seasoned with his blessing, followed him for many miles as he departed, rowing through the air with their wings, and could never be separated from their affection for him for as long as he lived. There are other things besides these which Fortunatus, with that charming wit of his style, has brought to our knowledge.

⁷⁷ King Ethelstan joined him as a companion to Saint Aldhelm; nor did he ever fail to show himself a saint through the frequency of his miracles. Our forefathers remembered particularly well, and especially used to relate, what I shall now tell. A thief had taken a plate of gold from the shrine and, after leaving the church, had spent it on whatever purposes he pleased. The saint, although patient on other occasions, did not allow this to pass in silence. For when the culprit, conscious of his guilt, thought that he could re-enter the church with impunity, he became stuck at the doorway, entangled by invisible bonds. If he tried to go farther in, a tremendous force of unseen flame burned the wretched man and wrung a miserable howl from him. If he tried to retreat, he was dragged backwards as though a noose had been twisted around his throat. The bystanders saw none of these things, but stood astonished at the thief’s cries and struggles. When, however, his confession made them aware of his crime and punishment, they interceded with the saint. Once the loss had been made good, he too was released from his punishment. On this shrine the following inscription may be read: “King Ethelstan, emperor of all Britain and of many peoples situated around it, ordered this work to be made in honour of Saint Paternus.” . . . . . . . That he obtained these relics from regions overseas, I shall append the following letter:

⁷⁸ “In honour of the supreme and undivided Trinity, and through the most excellent intercession of all the saints, I, Radbod, provost of the great bishop Samson, wish glory in this world and eternal blessedness to the glorious and munificent King Ethelstan. Most excellent King Ethelstan, may your piety know well that, while our region still remained secure, your father Edward commended himself by letter to the fellowship of the brotherhood of Saint Samson, the great confessor, and of Jovenian, the elder archbishop and my cousin, and of his clerics. Therefore, down to this very day, we pour out unceasing prayers to Christ the King for his soul and for your safety; and, seeing day and night the great mercy you show towards us, I and my twelve canons promise to pray to merciful God for you in our psalms, masses and prayers, as though we were prostrate at your knees. And now I am sending you relics which I know you hold dearer than all earthly possessions: namely, bones of Saint Senator, Saint Paternus, and Saint Scubilion, the teacher of that same Saint Paternus, who likewise departed to Christ on the same day and at the same hour as the same Paternus. These two saints most certainly lay in the tomb on the right and left of Saint Paternus; and their feast days, like that of Paternus, are celebrated on the ninth day before the Kalends of October. Therefore, glorious king, holy exalter of the Church, humbler of wicked paganism, mirror of your kingdom, example of all goodness, destroyer of enemies, father of clerics, helper of the needy, lover of all the saints, invoker of angels, we beg and humbly implore you, since through our own deserts and sins we are living in exile and captivity in Francia, that the great mercy of your most fortunate generosity may not forget us. And from now on, whatever you may deign to entrust to me, you may command without any delay.”

⁷⁹ This letter was found in a shrine at the monastery of Mideltun, which the same king built from the foundations and where he placed the relics of Saint Samson.

⁸⁰ But I now see that I must set down the records of the estates which the king bestowed upon the monastery, which he drew up in many charters, though they all presented the same text, in the following manner:

⁸¹ The insolent fortune of this deceitful world, lovable not for the milky whiteness of lilies but hateful for the gall-bitter bitterness of lamentable corruption, rages against the children of stinking flesh in the valley of tears [Psalm 84:6], tearing them with poisonous jaws; and although by smiling she may seem alluring to the unfortunate, she nevertheless slopes shamelessly down towards the depths of Acherontic Cocytus, unless the Offspring of the Most High who cries aloud comes to their aid. And therefore, because she collapses ruinously and slips away through her own decay, we must hasten with all our strength towards the pleasant fields of ineffable joy, where the hymn-singing instruments of angelic rejoicing and the honey-sweet fragrances of blooming roses are received by the noses of the good and blessed with inestimable sweetness, and where the ears of the fortunate hear delights without end. Drawn by love of that blessedness, I, Ethelstan, king of the English, raised by the right hand of the Almighty to the kingship of all Britain, have granted certain portions of land to the venerable community of Malmesbury, as a perpetual right to God and Saint Peter, for the souls of my cousins, the sons of Prince Ethelperd, namely Elfpine and Ethelpine: ten hides in the place called Wdetun; sixty hides in the place called Breomel; five hides in the place called Sumerford; likewise five in the place called Nortun; and likewise five in the place called Epulm. I command that none of our successors, for as long as Christianity flourishes, shall attempt to infringe this gift of ours even in the smallest degree. If anyone attempts it, let him know that he shall be condemned by God for ever. Let the wise men of our realm also know that we did not unjustly seize these same lands and give stolen property to God, but that I received them in the manner determined by all the nobles of the kingdom of the English, and moreover by John, the apostolic pope of the Roman Church, after the death of Elfred, who had shown himself an enemy of our prosperity and life by consenting to the wickedness of my enemies when they wished, after my father’s death, to blind me in the city of Winchester, had God not rescued me in his mercy. But when their schemes had been exposed, he was sent back to the Roman Church so that there, before Pope John, he might clear himself by oath. And he did this before the altar of Saint Peter. But after taking the oath, he fell before the altar and was carried by the hands of his servants to the School of the English, and on the third night he died. The pope then sent to us and asked what should be done with him. At the request of our nobles, however, we granted that he should be buried among other Christians, although he was unworthy. And thus all his property, great and small, was adjudged to me. And so forth. This document recording the will discovered and inspired by God and the Lord Jesus Christ was drawn up in the year 937 of the Lord’s Incarnation, in the eleventh year of the reign graciously entrusted to me, in the eighth indiction, with the twenty-fourth epact and the third concurrent, on the twelfth day before the Kalends of January, on the tenth day of the moon of the current month, in the most celebrated city called Dornacester, with the whole body of the nobles rejoicing beneath the wings of royal generosity. The under-kings Eugenius, Howel, Morcant and Ludual subscribed it; the archbishops Wlfelm of Canterbury and Wistan of York; and the bishops Burgric of Rochester, Tedred of London, Ethelgar of the East Angles, Alfrith of Winchester, Elfred of Sherborne, Wlfelm of Wells, Ethelgar of Crediton, Oda of Wiltshire, Eadhelm of Selsey, Sexhelm of Saint Cuthbert, Tidelm of Hereford, Elwine of Worcester, Kinsi of Lichfield, and Winsi of Leicester.

⁸² Ethelstan was succeeded by his brothers, Edmund for six years and Edred for nine; Edred was succeeded for four years by Edwy, son of Edmund, who, as we have related more fully elsewhere, seduced by the charms of a certain harlot, drove Dunstan, the most severe reprover of his folly, from his native land. From that beginning, once steeped in evil, he subjected all men of the monastic order throughout England, to Dunstan’s grief, to undeserved calamities, first stripping them of the support of their possessions and afterwards driving them into exile. He also made the monastery of Malmesbury into a dwelling-place for clerics, in the two hundred and forty-sixth year after the death of Father Aldhelm, and the two hundred and seventy-sixth year after he had been appointed there over the monks by Leutherius. But you, Lord Jesus, our creator and restorer, skilful craftsman, abundantly able to reshape what is misshapen in us, through those irregular and wandering men brought your treasure, hidden for so many centuries, into the light. I mean the body of the most holy Aldhelm, which they raised from the earth and placed in the shrine I mentioned above. Royal generosity added to the honour of the clerics by giving the saint an estate exceptionally convenient in both proximity and extent. I would name it, were it not already well known and had not earlier kings given many portions of it, lest this king alone should either claim the whole of their shared glory or snatch away a part of it. But all the injustice of those times soon came to an end when his brother Edgar succeeded him, easily the foremost of all his predecessors, had not Ethelstan already carried off the palm. Indeed, you would scarcely know which of the two to prefer, except that Edgar preserved what Ethelstan had begun. Ethelstan was the stronger, Edgar the more fortunate; the former relied upon God and his own resources, the latter trusted in the counsel of wise men. Edgar, therefore, having abolished his brother’s decrees, which royal excess and youthful impetuosity had imposed, will explain better in his own words what he gave to our church and what he took away from it.

⁸³ “Since a fixed limit awaits the whole created mass, and, as the Apostle says, visible things are temporary, but invisible things are eternal [2 Corinthians 4:18], it remains for each person to receive there the reward of what he has done here. Therefore I, Edgar, king of all Albion and likewise of the maritime and island kings dwelling around it, exalted, through the overflowing grace of God, to a degree of submission from them attained by none of my forefathers, have often carefully considered, mindful of so great an honour, what above all I should give from my dominion to the Lord, the King of kings [1 Timothy 6:15; Revelation 19:16]. Divine mercy, favouring my devout intention, therefore suddenly suggested to my vigilant zeal that I should restore every holy monastery in my kingdom. For just as they were visibly ruined up to their roofs, with moss-covered shingles and decayed timbers, so, what is worse, inwardly they had been neglected and were almost empty of the service of God. Accordingly, after expelling ignorant clerics who were subject to no discipline of a regular religious life, I appointed in many places pastors of a holier order, namely men of the monastic habit, and provided them with abundant expenditure from royal estates for restoring every ruinous part of the churches. One of these, named Elfric, a man thoroughly devoted to ecclesiastical life, I appointed guardian of the most famous monastery which the English call by the twofold name Maldelmesburuh. For the benefit of my soul, and in honour of our Saviour, of his Mother of God, the ever-virgin Mary, of the apostles Peter and Paul, and of the blessed Bishop Aldhelm, I restored to it with munificent generosity a portion of land, namely ten hides, called Estcotun, together with its meadows and woods. This land, once lent to the same clerics, had long been possessed by various men, and finally unjustly by the contentious Athelnod. But after his ingenious and elaborate argument had been heard by my wise men, and his false case had been refuted by them in my presence, I restored it to the use of the monastery in the year 974 of the Lord’s Incarnation, the fourteenth year of my reign, the first year of my royal consecration, and the two hundred and sixty-fifth year after the death of the precious confessor Aldhelm. At the request of the same abbot, I ordered this document of restoration to be written, so that it might preserve the matter in the memory of future generations, lest, for as long as the Christian faith flourishes among our people, the same estate should ever, God forbid, be violently alienated from that holy place by any exercise of tyrannical power.” It bears the subscriptions of the archbishops Dunstan of Canterbury and Oswald of York, of the bishops Ethelwold of Winchester, the three Elfstans of London, Rochester and Wiltun, and of the others.

⁸⁴ This is the Elfric who, transferring all care to the blessed Mary, entrusted the possession and name of the monastery to her authority, so that, with the name of the most blessed Peter meanwhile left unmentioned, she alone might appear to rule the place. Nor did the glorious lady disdain the gift of that distinguished and praiseworthy man; indeed, even to this day she presides over the church, embracing the most holy Aldhelm as a partner in her authority. Reliable ancient tradition records that he was learned in letters, and especially a most accomplished interpreter. He was also eager in building, for he founded and completed all the monks’ buildings, which were then of the finest quality and are even now by no means wholly contemptible. Abbo of Fleury mentions him, though without giving his name, in the preface to the Passion of Saint Edmund addressed to the blessed Archbishop Dunstan, in these words: “The Passion of Saint Edmund, written by no one and unknown to many, your Holiness related historically in my presence, having gathered it from the memory of antiquity, while the lord bishop of the church of Rochester and the abbot of the monastery called Malmesbiri, together with other brothers standing around, as is your custom, were present . . . . .”

⁸⁵ Elfric, when he was already advanced in age, was transferred to become bishop of Crediton and survived scarcely four years. He left behind a number of books, no insignificant monuments of his ability: a Life of Saint Ethelwold, before Wistan produced a more elaborate version of it; an abridgement of the Passion of Saint Edmund; and many books translated from Latin into his native language.

⁸⁶ In the time of King Edgar, therefore, the most holy Archbishop Dunstan devoted exceptional care to the restoration and adornment of our monastery. He was drawn to love Saint Aldhelm both by his kinship with the West Saxon race, for he had himself sprung from this province, and by the miracles which were continually becoming more frequent, rejoicing that a saint of his own region had been raised to such prominence especially in his own time. He was therefore generous to the place in many things, frequently offering objects which were then regarded as great marvels in England which displayed both the splendour and the ingenuity of their donor. Among these were bells remarkable for their sound and size, and organs in which, through bronze pipes fashioned according to musical proportions

⁸⁷ The anxious bellows pours forth the air it has long held within.

⁸⁸ There he inscribed this couplet upon bronze plates:

⁸⁹ “I, Bishop Dunstan, give these organs to Saint Aldhelm; may he who seeks to take them away lose the eternal kingdom.”

⁹⁰ The following verses too may bear witness to the truth, which we saw inscribed upon a vessel that served the ministers of the altar by supplying water:

⁹¹ “Archbishop Dunstan ordered this water-vessel to be cast, so that it might serve Saint Aldhelm in his church.”

⁹² In these verses poetic licence had contrived to remove the first letter L from the saint’s name so that the metre would work. For in neither inscription was Aldhelmo carved, but Adelmo. Meanwhile, foreseeing in a prophetic spirit the calamity that would come upon England after his death and the devastation by the Danes—for he had foretold these things even to the king himself, not in the obscure colouring of riddles but in plain words—he feared for the most holy bones of the confessor. As he turned over in his mind the greedy savagery and savage greed of the Danes, he imagined that the monastery would be plundered through lust for money. His greatest horror and fear was that someone, captivated by the splendour of the metal, might seize the shrine and, greedily stuffing the precious plates into his clothing, cast aside somewhere the stripped wooden structure together with the bones. Therefore, after long and careful deliberation, he removed the most reverend relics from the shrine and placed them in a stone tomb. This he raised high on the right-hand side of the altar, in a position plainly visible to everyone in the church. Beside the bones, which were first wrapped in fine and delicate linen and then in most precious scarlet cloth, he placed a glass vial filled with the purest balsam. These were indeed fitting perfumes for a bishop who had always sent up to heaven the burnt offerings of virtues and prayers. He also placed there a portion of the boards from the most ancient sarcophagus in which all the flesh had decayed into the condition common to mortals. Nor did he refrain from adding verses, with which he adorned the outer surround of the tomb. Their substance was that the saint should deign to grant his admirer forgiveness for his sins, and should not count it as an offence that he had placed him in a more elevated position. The saint should know that he had done this as a precaution, not as an insult. Nor did subsequent events prove the prophet wrong; not one of his words fell to the ground [1 Samuel 3:19]. I shall explain this briefly, if I continue the succession of kings which I had interrupted.

⁹³ After sixteen years of reign, Edgar was succeeded by his son Edward for three and a half years. His brother Ethelred then succeeded him and, during thirty-seven years, besieged, undermined and ruined his wretched kingdom. I think it unnecessary to insert his deeds here at length, especially since elsewhere I have already unravelled the labyrinth of his miseries. Yet I shall not pass over this: after Edgar died, who had boasted that he ruled over more peoples than any of his ancestors—not because his dominion extended farther, but because he exercised it more securely—everything turned to the contrary, and the kingdom’s supreme prosperity stood upon the brink of ruin. For, as someone has said, things at their highest are not permitted to stand for long. The Danish people, therefore, accustomed to living by plunder, surged upon England along all its coasts. Soon, to put it briefly, after devastating the entire seaboard, they began devouring the heart of the inland country. They behaved with all the greater insolence towards the natives because they were all the farther removed from knowledge of the true God. One band, with its leader at its head, came to Malmesbury. There, believing that it could act with the same terror it had employed elsewhere, it burst furiously into the church. Casting their eyes about on every side, they saw nothing that could satisfy their greedy rapacity except the saint’s shrine. The monks’ cautious foresight had removed everything else from their prying fury. That alone they had exposed to fortune—or, to speak more truly, to the saint’s protection. Let him protect it if he wished; otherwise, let him permit himself to be mocked. Gaping at it with mouths wide open, they rushed upon it in a frenzy. One of them, made bolder by his wicked hunger for silver, seized a knife and attempted to prise the precious stones from their settings. He had already put out his hand when the saint’s swift power checked the raging plague of his greed. He therefore paid for his reckless attempt: losing his senses, he was dashed backwards onto the pavement, as though a piercing weapon had been driven into his heart. The punishment of one restored the others to sanity: they ceased their fury and clamour, left the holy place undefiled, and fled. They therefore hastened away across open ground and rough country alike, glad merely to have rescued their bodies from danger. For by running many miles without stopping, although no one pursued them from behind and no one opposed them in front, they showed that they had suffered something greater than ordinary human fear. When news of this kind spread throughout the host of the enemy, it made them slower to plunder and more fearful in their reverence for the saints. Hence it came about that, although all the monasteries round about were either devastated or stripped bare, this one alone never had to lament so grievous a calamity.

⁹⁴ This king granted an estate of ten hides to the monastery of Saint Aldhelm under Abbot Ethelperd, who had succeeded Elfric. He was urged to do so while still young in his kingship by the most distinguished nobles who yet survived; after their deaths, however, he withered away completely, both into luxury in his personal life and into the ruin of his kingdom. For the abundance of wealth which his father had left him incited him to self-indulgence; his offence earned God’s anger; and God’s anger brought the nation to destruction. The document is as follows:

⁹⁵ “It is plainly evident to all who diligently investigate the study of wisdom that the end of this present life is known to be approaching, and indeed already pressing upon us with excessive terror, amid the changing distress of various calamities. I therefore, Ethelred, by the assisting grace of Christ king of all Albion, instructed by the counsel of my nobles and desiring to purchase eternal things with those that are perishable, have granted as an everlasting inheritance a certain portion of land, namely ten hides, in the well-known place which those familiar with this country call Redburne, to our Lord Jesus Christ and his mother, the ever-virgin Mary, in veneration of the blessed Bishop Aldhelm, who founded the place itself commonly called Maldelmesburuh, for the use of the monks dwelling there under the rule of Abbot Ethelperd. And so forth.” This charter was written in the year 972 of the Lord’s Incarnation, the two hundred and sixty-third year after the death of that same father. Those who subscribed the preceding charter subscribed this one also, together with Elfric, now a bishop, and Escwi, bishop of Dorchester.

⁹⁶ After Ethelred died, having reigned for thirty-seven years, Cnut succeeded him for twenty years; Cnut was succeeded by his son Harold for four years; he by Hardacnut for one year; and he by Edward for twenty-four years. During these eighty-six years, after Ethelperd, there were Kineward, Brihtelm, Brihtpold, Ederic and Wulsin. Brihtwold, as we have observed from English writings, inflicted many losses upon the monastery, either disposing of its lands altogether or taking possession of them for a small price. He is excused, however, on the grounds that, burdened by the great tax then being paid to the Danes, he found this the only remedy for his troubles; being heedless of the future, he did not see how it might cause harm afterwards. Wulsin restored the discipline of the monks, which had been greatly weakened by the coming of the Danes, to its former vigour. There were still monks in our own time who had seen him in the flesh and took pleasure in recalling the man’s memory and relating it to others. Relying upon their account, I committed many of his notable qualities to memory; but I refrain from relating them because they do not sufficiently accord with the work I have undertaken. Egelward succeeded him for ten years, then Elwin for a year and a half, and Brihtwold succeeded him for seven years. Ancient tradition relates that Brihtwold, sluggish in doing good but eager in doing evil, met a wretched death, dying on an estate amid the preparations for drinking and being buried among his predecessors in the church of Saint Andrew, which adjoined the greater church. It is also well established that the guardians of the place were disturbed by phantom apparitions until they dug up the corpse and plunged it into a deep marsh far from the monastery; from there a foul smell sometimes rises, breathing out a savage stench upon those living nearby. But leaving these unpleasant matters aside, let us turn to the miracles which the Divine Power manifested during this period at the tomb of the blessed confessor.

⁹⁷ When the Danes had firmly resolved to come to England, they enlisted the Norwegians as partners in their victory. The savagery of both peoples was immense, but the Norwegians were more rapacious in their greed and more violent in their lust. As one of their earls was laying everything waste, a certain girl named Elfild fell to him as part of the spoil. She had been born to an honourable position among the English and was of noble appearance and beauty. These qualities inflamed the barbarian’s lust, so that he cast aside his lawful marriage and bent all his efforts upon marrying his captive, whose chastity he ought to have protected and whose captivity he ought to have pitied, had he not been a barbarian. Therefore, when blandishments had first been exhausted, the robber came upon her by night as she resisted and pleaded earnestly for her chastity, and violated her. Yet he did not survive for long, nor did he enjoy either the hope offspring conceived or a long life after the wrong done to the woman. When he had died, therefore, reports of the beautiful Elfild reached the ears of the king of that country. At once, according to the custom of his people, he eagerly lusted to possess the woman. Thus the king became a lover, and the powerful man a suitor. Through intermediaries he paid court to the majesty of the captive, asking that she deign to accept him as her lover. He promised mountains of gold and everlasting love, and finally whatever might either deceive a woman or entice a captive. All this was done secretly from his wife, whom above all he feared provoking. Elfild gave him the opposite answer. She said that her affections were directed elsewhere and that she had resolved to serve God. The man who had first tasted the fruits of her love while alive and buried those affections with himself when he died had taken her love with him. When the king heard this, grieved that he had been scorned by a mere woman, he resorted to force against her refusal, and one night violently entered the embraces of one who feared nothing of the kind. From that single union a child was conceived and a boy was born, contrary to the wishes of them both. For the king, fearing danger to his reputation, wished indeed to enjoy his pleasure but did not wish to have its fruit. Elfild, meanwhile, first feared God because of intercourse with a married man, and secondly feared the queen’s jealousy. Nevertheless, the child, once born, as I have said, pleased the eyes of them both and sought, as it were, to reconcile them to itself: the man, so that he should not cast aside the woman who had become a mother through him, especially since she was beautiful in body, noble in birth, a captive in condition, and chastely faithful to him alone with whom she had relations; and the woman, so that through familiarity with what had happened and the sweetness of her son she might receive the man into her affections. Thus she willingly cherished, through attachment to pleasure, the sin which she had first entered into with reluctance. And to escape the queen’s notice, she had a hiding-place with a certain bishop of the country, from which she was taken away whenever the king pleased for his use at night. But the king’s approaching death cut short these pleasures of love, and she was left alone with her infant son. Therefore, well aware of what women’s anger may dare against their rivals, she fled to the most distant regions of Norway. The bishop acted faithfully and supplied her necessities, for to him alone, in his final words as he lay dying, the king had entrusted the guardianship of the orphan. Consequently, when the nobles rejected the arrogant rule of a woman, the bishop did not conceal the truth of the whole matter as it stood. Thus by common decree the little boy was placed upon the summit of the kingdom as a figurehead, while his guardians arranged all affairs at their own discretion. But after no more than a year and a half, that little boy, named Magnus, was taken from life by an untimely death and finished the thread spun by the Fates. It is said that this happened through a plot of the nobles, but I do not agree that they would deliberately have inflicted death upon an innocent boy whom they themselves had made king. Then, therefore, not to spin out a long story, Elfild, bereft of every source of support, sounded the retreat to her native country. And so that God might grant success to so dangerous a voyage, she vowed that, if she reached England safely by sea, she would never eat the flesh of any land animal and would never take richer food except on feast days. By God’s gracious will she obtained a fortunate outcome and diligently kept her vow. With money she had received through the generosity of her husband son, she purchased three estates, from whose revenues she supported herself and her household. After some years, at a more sumptuous banquet, she gave herself over to merriment and encouraged her guests to be cheerful. They in turn urged her to eat at least a little meat, but for a long while spent their words in vain. At last, however, overcome by the entreaties of the priests who were present, who promised prayers and masses and said that even the guilt of great indulgences could be erased by the celebration of masses, she touched some meat or other with the tips of her fingers and, though her senses recoiled, put it to her mouth. Immediately there followed a merciful rebuke of divine severity: while she was chewing, she was struck so violently by the illness which in Greek is called paralysis, that is, a loosening of the limbs, that no part of her body could perform its proper function. Only her tongue moved within her throat, so that she might confess her offence and ask forgiveness. Her innocent lapse was admirably chastised by a temporal scourge. For if she had committed an offence deserving eternal punishment, she would not have received a punishment allowing forgiveness. For three whole years, worn down by this affliction, she was carried on a litter around the holy places of the saints, seeking the intercession of those whom fame had made more celebrated for miracles. The favour of all the saints yielded and gave place to the glory of the most blessed Aldhelm, so that, through the healing of so distinguished a person, his fame might fly more gloriously from mouth to mouth. After three years, therefore, she came to the saint’s feast, which is celebrated on the eighth day before the Kalends of June with a great gathering of the people of the province. The power of her lord did not delay: on the very vigil of the feast it touched her as she prayed at the tomb. Her health blossomed again; the loosened structure of her limbs grew firm; the paralysed woman rose up whole. Her acquaintances stood astonished and gave praise, the monks raised a clamour and asked about what had happened, and everyone rejoiced. Elfild, not ungrateful to the one who had healed her, bestowed all her possessions upon the place. She professed herself a nun, lived near the church for the rest of her life, and after her death received an honoured burial in the cloister. This miracle, transmitted down to us through successive generations because, as I have said, of the distinction of the person concerned and the nearness of the events to our own times, gives grounds for believing that there were many other miracles which the ravages of the years have obscured and the negligence of writers has concealed.

⁹⁸ At the same time a certain Greek monk named Constantine came to the place. It is uncertain, however, where he came from, or whether necessity or his own choice had driven him from his home and country. He was the first founder of the vineyard which, situated on a hill near the monastery to the north, endured for many years. He was well proportioned in stature, gentle in manner and affable in conversation. He was moderate in food, sparing in drink, and indeed drank scarcely at all. He spent the leisure of feast days in prayer, and devoted all the hours of the other days to work in the vineyard. When at last he was dying, his voice gone and with so little life remaining that he was thought about to breathe his last, he revived and slowly struggled upright. Feeling for the pouch which always hung at his side, he took from it a pallium, the insignia of archbishops, and, as far as he could while lying there, arranged it upon himself in the manner he knew. Immediately, overcome once more by the violence of death, he breathed his last and expired. From this it was realised that he had been an archbishop; but it still remains uncertain for what reason he had once left his native country. We are free to interpret an uncertainty favourably, and suppose that love of the religious life compelled the bishop to become a pilgrim. He was therefore reverently buried among the tombs of the abbots in the church of Saint Andrew, which existed at that time. In the course of years, however, when the requirements of new buildings displaced him and the others from their former resting places, his bones were found to possess an extraordinary whiteness and a most pleasant fragrance, showing that Constantine had been no man of ordinary holiness.

⁹⁹ A certain countryman living near Malmesbury, known to the monks and to the town, was tormented by possession by a most evil demon. He would gnash his teeth at those standing close by whom he could not reach, and strike those nearer to him with his foot or fist. At those farther away he would spit foam; whatever came to hand he would whirl about as a weapon of torment. His fury supplied him with weapons, so that no one could approach him with impunity and leave unharmed. Moreover, speaking madly, he hurled insults even at the stars themselves. Different and confused voices were heard from a single mouth, so that at one moment you would think from the barking that he was a dog, at another from the lowing a cow, and then from the screeching an owl. He swallowed down into the abyss of his stomach food that was neither fit for humans nor prepared by cooking. His madness had so sharpened his teeth that he would, as it seemed, easily crush anything made of bone, wood or iron. Then, discharging all that gluttony and undigested raw matter in a single belch, he would vomit up whatever he had consumed in a light vapour. His neighbours, moved by the misery of a man in such a condition, resolved to lead him around the holy places of the saints. His madness prevented them from doing so, and it was necessary for him to be bound. The matter was therefore uncertain, because his ferocity made it impossible even to bind him. No one, however experienced in strength, could attempt to fasten bonds upon him without being almost dashed senseless by his efforts alone. Necessity therefore found a remedy: ropes were stretched out so that, whichever way his impulse carried him, his feet could be entangled. Caught by this device, he yielded to ingenuity though he surpassed them in strength. Yet not even then, though his body had been restrained, could the wicked spirit in his mind be checked, until, when all the necessary preparations had been made, they began to take the sufferer to the saints. As they travelled, Malmesbury presented itself to them on the very vigil of the sacred Ascension of our Lord and Saviour [Acts 1:9–11]. There, having heard and believed that Saint Aldhelm had formerly been ready to cure illnesses of this kind, they stopped. They approached the monks and explained their journey and the reason for it. The monks promised them the saint’s assistance and gave them counsel. The day was approaching, they said, on which the Lord’s flesh had been carried into heaven in triumphant joy [Acts 1:9–11]. Hope had thereby been given to all the members that they too should follow the head, provided, of course, that their works had not fallen away from their faith. Aldhelm, an eminent member of God, had assuredly attained the presence of his head through the merit of his works. For that reason nothing was difficult for him to obtain, as had been proved by many experiences. Let them therefore pour out humble prayers to the merciful saint, for without doubt he was ready to assist all who prayed to him with perfect faith. Encouraged by this assurance, the visitors, as far as men of their kind and understanding were able, did not fail in their exhortations. The immediate recovery of the sick man showed that the prayers of these country people had not been fruitless. For as soon as he was laid before the altar, he lost the disordered savagery of his face and eyes, and laid his restless neck down in gentle sleep. Thus freed from slavery to the devil and restored to freedom of mind, when the calmness of his words proved that he was again of sound understanding, he raised the hearts of those standing by to the praise of God and the saint, and opened their mouths in praise.

¹⁰⁰ A man in the same condition had been reduced to such misery by the contracted sinews behind his knees that his only means of moving about was upon his knees. With them he swept the dusty paths whenever he travelled anywhere; with them he made his way across muddy ground. And because his legs clung to his buttocks, he looked more like a four-footed creature than a man. He appeared a misshapen prodigy and, so to speak, a lump of flesh which nature had cast forth in an untimely birth. Scarcely ever could he raise himself towards the sky; thus he was condemned always to look down upon the ground. His soul therefore struggled on, and for him living meant nothing more than the prolongation of misery. Yet he diligently considered from which of the saints he should seek help. One saint was powerful in one way, another in another. Some were effective in driving out demons, others came readily to the aid of those suffering from diseases, while Christ, the author of all, excelled in all things. For at that time rumour especially reported—and it was indeed the case—that great miracles were being performed at a certain place called by the distinctive name Christecerce, that is, Christ’s Church. There was no affliction so grievous to mankind that Christ did not drive it away there. The cripple therefore intended to make his way there, having hired a vehicle. As he travelled, Malmesbury offered him convenient lodging on his route. And it happened that this was the fourth day after the feast, while the recent fame of the saint’s miracles was still spreading fervently. For during that festival necessity had gathered there more sufferers than usual, and the compassion of the most blessed father had sent them away healed. Having heard these things, the disabled man withdrew into the church for the time being, intending to resume his journey the following morning if his prayer had not succeeded. It was then Saturday, and Sunday dawn was awaited. The saint’s power was altogether wonderful: as soon as he came beneath the roof the church, his bodily weakness was partly dispelled, and he felt some kind of healing run through all his limbs. Made more confident by this and more eager for what remained, he prolonged his sleepless vigil there through the night. Day was now at hand, bringing the wretched man more help than he could have hoped for. As the monks proceeded through the cloister according to custom, he saw from a distance that the choir was empty and, moving his knees with the support of stools, crawled into it. There, prostrate with his whole body before the altar, he fell into what seemed like an ecstasy and rested with his eyes closed as though asleep. But when the noise and singing of the returning monks roused him from sleep, he suddenly recovered enough strength to leap up vigorously. He looked at those who were looking at him, and he too marvelled at so unexpected a recovery. With an open countenance he told them why he had come, but he did not know how he had been raised up so quickly. The event was believed, and praises were rendered to God, especially as his host confirmed the miracle emphatically, having received him the previous day as a cripple and now seeing him standing upright. The man who had been healed repaid his healer with gratitude, pledging himself to his service for the whole of his remaining life.

¹⁰¹ This was the time when the relics of the most blessed Audoen, archbishop of Rouen, were brought to our monastery. The reason for their removal was this. Queen Emma, after the death of King Ethelred, had gone to Normandy to her brother, thinking that nothing was safe for her among the Danes who had occupied England. She therefore remained for a long time at Rouen, and had won the friendship both of other monks of Saint Audoen and of the sacristan of the place by means of gifts, with this particular aim: that he should sell her the body of the blessed bishop. For Christianity had fallen so low, and greed had grown so great, that we make merchandise of the bodies of saints, putting their blessed remains up for sale. At first the monk recoiled from the monstrous deed. Afterwards, however, compelled by the need of his nephew, who had been captured in Francia and required a ransom, he offered for sale what had been requested. Having obtained this rich prize, the woman, when more favourable times smiled upon her and she had returned to England, gave the rest of the body to Canterbury, but kept the head in her private possession. Many years later, however, when her son Edward had received the kingdom, remembrance of past events stirred the king’s heart against his mother. For because she had shown little generosity towards her children while he himself was still of tender years, he ordered all his mother’s possessions to be stripped from her down to the last penny. This was done; and a certain goldsmith who had been one of her confidants stole the saint’s shrine containing the head, while the others were meanwhile intent upon the treasures. He entrusted it to his brother, a monk whom he had at Malmesbury, thinking that sacred things could be entrusted to no one more suitably than to a monk. Not long afterwards, when he paid his debt to fate, he left an everlasting memorial of himself to the place which he had distinguished with such great treasures. I did not receive these scattered details from doubtful authorities, but from men who had seen them, men highly distinguished by age, trustworthiness and knowledge. As for the miracles of Audoen, anyone who has read the substantial books about his deeds, produced through the care of our forefathers and deservedly well known on account of their subject, will judge that it does not belong to my present task to write about them.

¹⁰² Meanwhile, when Abbot Brihtwold had died, as we said before, Bishop Hermann planned to annex the vacant abbey to his own see. But the monks forestalled his attempt, with the support of Earls Godwin and Harold. Brihtric, the foremost among them, was made abbot from being provost, and presided over the monastery most gloriously for seven years. But when William, formerly count of Normandy, became king of England, he intruded a certain Turold, a monk of Fiscamn, who had earned his favour through great services, while Brihtric was still alive. Afterwards, however, realising that the matter had been wrongly handled and grieving that he had been deceived by the ambition of a man in haste, he consoled the exiled Brihtric for his loss by granting him the abbey of Burhtuna. This same Turold, while behaving like a tyrant towards those subject to him, was transferred by the king to Burh, a wealthy abbey which at that time was being harassed by raiders under a certain Hereward, because it lay among marshes. “By the splendour of God,” he said, “since he behaves more like a soldier than an abbot, I shall find him an equal who can receive his attacks. Let him test his courage and soldiership there; let him practise his battles there.”

¹⁰³ He was succeeded by Warin, a monk of Lira, an energetic man, especially in that he accustomed the monks to the rule. In other respects, however, he was not very useful to the church, because he was carried headlong by hopes of greater advancement. Consequently, he was well suited to emptying the monks’ purses and snatching money from every quarter. Yet he did not hoard what he had acquired so greedily; rather, both this side of the sea and beyond it, he squandered the church’s possessions in order to secure greater favour among powerful men and to gain prestige among those who had once seen him poor. When he first came to the abbey, despising the deeds of his predecessors, he was possessed by a kind of disdain and loathing for the bodies of the saints. The bones of Meildulf of holy memory and of the others who, having once been abbots there and afterwards bishops in various places, had ordered themselves to be buried there out of reverence for their patron Aldhelm, venerable antiquity had reverently placed in two stone receptacles on either side of the altar, with wooden partitions separating the bones of each. All these, I say, he had heaped together indiscriminately, like a pile of rubble, like the remains of worthless slaves, and removed beyond the doors of the church. And, lest anything should be lacking to his shamelessness, he even removed Saint John Scot, whom the monks venerated with almost the same honour as Saint Aldhelm. He therefore ordered all of them to be hidden away heedlessly in the farthest corner of the basilica of Saint Michael, which he himself had ordered to be enlarged and raised higher, and to be shut in with stones. The insult of the deed was made worse by a mocking remark. “Let whoever among them can do it better now help the others,” he said. O times, O morals! What reproach worthy of the deed could condemn such audacity? What shamelessness in the man! Shall we, frivolous men born for mockery, destroy what the most blessed Dunstan and other most wise and religious men either did themselves or permitted to be done? But I shall restrain my pen and bridle my indignation; for indeed, by his great devotion to Saint Aldhelm he either softened or entirely effaced the offence he had given to the others. At first, however, he remained doubtful and uncertain about Aldhelm’s holiness, because the saint did not comply with his wishes by displaying miracles. Yet the saint’s compassion came to the aid of his wavering mind, dispelling the cloud of doubt and pouring in the light of certainty by the following deed:

¹⁰⁴ A certain native of the Isle of Wight made his living by fishing. Among his own people who followed the same trade, he was not without distinction and had accumulated respectable possessions at home. One day, therefore, while labouring at his customary occupation, a wind blowing against him and a very dense mist suddenly arising filled the face and eyes of the man as he rowed. Thus deprived of sight, at first he laughed, thinking that the sudden darkness of the day would soon pass away. But as the darkness grew thicker and thicker, he realised that he was truly blind, and by shouting announced his misery to his companions who were engaged in the same work along the shore. His calamity therefore brought the others’ fishing to an end; abandoning the catch they had taken, they all worked together with one effort to bring him back to shore. Once landed on the bank, he was led by the hand brought home. What had happened gave the country people matter for discussion. They conferred among themselves and debated many things: what kind of wind it had been, whether accidental or diabolical, which had taken daylight from the innocent fisherman and brought him night. He, his sight covered over, wept at every suggestion and tirelessly asked what remedy there might be for his misfortune. He was told that human help was despaired of and that he must take refuge in the protection of God and the saints. This, they said, could most conveniently be done at the church of Christ which I mentioned above, since it lies on the mainland only a very short crossing from that island. Approving the advice, the blind man boarded a boat with his companions, and the united effort of their rowing and the favour of the winds quickly brought it to the opposite shore. There, therefore, for three whole years the blind man devoted himself to seeking health. The Lord Jesus delayed his healing so as to intensify his longing, and so that the remedy, when at last received, might be all the more welcome because it had been delayed the longer and desired the more painfully. When the three years had passed, a heavenly vision plainly instructed him in a dream that, if he wished to recover his sight, he should not delay in going to Malmesbury. Filled with joyful hope, as day broke into light he set out under favourable circumstances. With a companion going before him to guide his uncertain steps, he came to the place. There he remained for seven days, awaiting the divine promise, and meanwhile supported his poverty by food received through the alms of the monks. Sunday arrived, which was also the eighth day, and as he lay prostrate before the crucifix in the church, he realised that his dream had not been empty. He recovered clear sight, while blood burst forth and dripped from his eyes, just as, when milkmaids draw milk, a plentiful stream flows from the udders of cattle. The man raised a cry of joy; and, asking for a vessel so that the sacred pavement should suffer no defilement from the blood, he caught what flowed from him. This event, performed before the townspeople and openly in the presence of all the monks, greatly increased the honour paid to the saint among the Normans. The islander, casting aside the staff with which he had faced the dangers of his journey, returned freely on his way and went back to his familiar home.

¹⁰⁵ Having seen this, and with no excuse for hesitation remaining to the abbot, he roused the diligence of his mind to honour the most precious confessor. For since the turmoil of the times had subsided and there was no longer any fear of hostile attack, it seemed reasonable that the saint should leave the enclosure of stone in which he had been confined for fear of the Danes. It was unworthy that a stone should press down upon the ground bones which the glory of miracles raised to heaven. He therefore intended that they should be taken from the tomb and placed in a shrine. And so that this religious undertaking might proceed in proper order, a three-day fast was proclaimed for the people of the province. Then, on the day of Pentecost itself, accompanied by Serlo, abbot of Gloucester, he approached the tomb, removed the obstacles and shifted the stone. When he had seen within that the bones remained intact and that the monks’ account was confirmed by the truth of the matter, he closed it again until the eighth day, when the saint’s feast was expected. For the variation of the Paschal moon causes the feast, as it comes round, to be celebrated sometimes before Pentecost and sometimes afterwards. Present at the spectacle, helping with the work and sharing in lifting the burden, was a monk named Hubert, who had long suffered from a disorder of the internal organs. At that time it had become more severe than usual, when the fragrance of the relics, striking him in the face as he examined them more closely, drove him backwards. From that fragrance health ran through his bones and penetrated and suffused his marrow. From then until the day of his death, the monk felt nothing further that shook his vital organs or disturbed his entrails. This became known both through his own repeated account and, especially, through the testimony of others who had often seen him before almost lose his life under the severity of the disease. On the following Sunday, therefore, the venerable Osmund, bishop of Salisbury, was summoned, and the final hand was put to the undertaking already begun: the bones were reverently placed in the shrine, and joy was poured out among the people. From that day so many miracles were performed there that no power of eloquence would suffice to record them all, whether they took place openly before people’s eyes or were experienced in private needs. With Christ’s help, we shall set down some of them here, as far as they seem appropriate to the work we have undertaken. This second translation took place in the ninety-second year after he had been enclosed by the blessed Dunstan, the three hundred and sixty-ninth year after his death, the year 1078 from the Lord’s Incarnation, and the thirteenth year after the coming of the Normans.

¹⁰⁶ Cologne is a very great city, the metropolis of all Germany, crowded with commerce and filled with the protection of saints. A citizen of this city, guilty of killing his brother more through misfortune than deliberate intent, concealed for many years a deed which was hidden from men. But, as Augustine says, “A mind conscious of evil is itself its own torment, and while still alive anticipates the punishments of the dead.” The stain of guilt was therefore consuming the wretched man’s mind, and he imagined hell already present before him. At length, therefore, he revealed the wounds of his ulcerated conscience to a physician, Anno, archbishop of that same city, a man of exceptional severity. After rebuking the guilty man as strongly as the enormity of the deed required, he added gentler admonitions. Admirably, and after the example of the Gospel, he first poured wine upon the wounded man, to cleanse the festering recesses, and then added oil, to soothe sinner with the hope of forgiveness [Luke 10:34]. He therefore imposed seven years of penance upon him, during which he was to go around the churches of the saints with his arms and belly bound in iron. A breastplate was to cover his belly, and an iron bar his arms, which in his murderous violence had shed the blood of his kinsman, so that what had been the instrument of guilt might become the instrument of punishment. He was to accustom himself to fasting and silence, overcome his grievous hardships through hope of good, and by diminishing his vices gain an abundance of virtues. He was therefore to persevere, so that what for the present he undertook for forgiveness might one day lead to glory, and what was now punishment might become reward. The penitent did as he was commanded, adding several crosses besides and deliberately inflicting a kind of violence upon his own body. He went to Rome and made his way to Jerusalem, undertaking a great and remarkable feat for that time, since the courage of our Christians had not yet made those routes readily passable. There, when he was scarcely admitted to pray before the sepulchre, his breastplate burst into pieces by the power of God. On his return he travelled throughout all Europe, tossed by many dangers on land sea. The end of his labours was our monastery, which he sought out. There, while he lay prostrate before the tomb of the blessed confessor, he obtained forgiveness. The force of his prayer beat upon heaven, entered among the stars, and drew help from above. The bonds upon his arms came undone; the iron was violently cast off and hurled more than fifteen feet away; and the penitent, overcome in spirit, fainted. But when he recovered after being sprinkled with cold water, he offered praise and thanks to God, with all who were present joining in. Nor could they doubt the miracle, since they had known him beforehand for many days, supported by the monks’ alms and most cruelly bound in iron.

¹⁰⁷ Meanwhile, it should not disturb the patience of my readers if I set down, in a different style, a similar miracle displayed in a different person. I have just described the healing of a cripple who was advanced in age; now I shall similarly describe the sudden healing of a boy. Folkwin was the name of the little boy, whom his mother’s womb had brought forth imperfectly formed. From the upper part of his body down to the waist he was human; as for the rest, which should not be described, I scarcely know whether to call him a quadruped or something else. The calves of his legs, refusing their natural flexibility, clung so stubbornly to his buttocks that they could not be pulled apart. Indeed, some people, driven either by spite or disbelief, would put their hands upon them and try to separate them. By doing this they caused the poor little boy great suffering, and he, uttering dreadful shrieks, would call down terrible curses upon those who tormented him. For they saw an innocent child, free from cares, eager for laughter and frequent games, and they remained uncertain whether, through some lesson taught by a master, he had learned to pretend this contraction so that by such a trick he might draw larger alms from those who pitied him. But since, as I have said, the attempt proved fruitless, they joined the others in belief and compassion. He was thirteen or fourteen years old; and the older he grew, the more stubbornly his sinews stiffened and the less able he became to walk. He especially aroused the pity of the townspeople, for at Malmesbury he was fed by the monks, because whenever he tried to crawl anywhere, his legs became entangled in the mud of the roads and he remained stuck in one place. He would struggle in the mire and fill the air with cries until someone, overcome by pity, lifted the poor boy in his arms. Aldhelm released this rigid and hateful contraction two years after the second translation. On his feast day, which had fallen on the first day of Pentecost, though the postponed observance was held on the second day, the boy, I say, was lying behind the choir and had fallen into a gentle sleep throughout his limbs. The monks, having completed the night offices, had begun Matins. The following verse was being sung:

¹⁰⁸ At whose sacred tomb, repeatedly,
The languishing limbs are restored to health,
Whatever disease may have afflicted them.

¹⁰⁹ Meanwhile he saw a figure sitting gently beside him, neither exceeding ordinary height nor being among the smallest. He had a grey beard and hair, a face which threatened nothing harsh but promised kindness, and clothing and a staff which marked him as a bishop. Sitting beside him in this way, as I have said, the figure seemed gently to stroke the boy’s little legs, gradually drawing them straight and restoring them to their natural form. And, wonderfully, those standing nearby saw him stretch out his legs while still asleep, and heard his sinews crack, just as the joints of the fingers make a noise when someone forcibly tries to stretch out his hands. Thus, as the miracle accorded with the words the monks were singing, Folkwin awoke from sleep, stood upon his feet with ease, and presented a marvellous sight. Immediately, with the joy of a boy but the steadiness of a man, he began to run and threw himself down before the altar. Then the people, applauding the miracle, hurried forward in rivalry with one another, bringing offerings to the man who had been healed and heaping gifts upon the saint. This sign was so great a miracle that the monks reported it by urgent letter to the abbot, who was absent at the king’s court. When he thought it right to show the letter to Archbishop Lanfranc, that distinguished man of learning, judging the confessor’s merits from the miracle, promulgated a decree throughout all England commanding that he should without hesitation be regarded and venerated as a saint. Annual fairs were immediately established for his feast, so that those whom the holiness of the confessor did not attract might at least be drawn by eagerness for merchandise.

¹¹⁰ This was the time when Osmund, bishop of the same diocese and a man of most reverend life, requested relics of the saint. He thought and declared that it was fitting for him to share in the remains of his most approved predecessor, whose see he occupied. He considered this beneficial to himself and pleasing to the saint, who at the slight cost of diminishing the completeness of his remains would gain new honours and great favour. Nor was Abbot Warin difficult to persuade, since he saw that reason led him to consent. The bishop was therefore given a bone from the left arm, which he always held in the greatest love and honour. Indeed, at considerable expense and with skilful craftsmanship, he had a silver reliquary made to contain it. All Saints’ Day had arrived, appointed for this work, when, while it was being carried out, the bishop remembered the illness of his archdeacon Everard, who lay wasting away, afflicted to the very marrow. He therefore sent word to the man that by whatever means possible he should have himself brought to the church. The sick man obeyed and came to the place, his servants carrying their master as though he were a lifeless body. For by himself he could not naturally move either a foot or any other limb except his tongue. Seeing the pallor of his face and the weakness of his whole body, the bishop lost some of his hope for the man’s recovery. But soon, recovering his confidence, he drew the flame of faith from the kindling of past miracles. By his exhortations he also struck sparks of belief into the sick man’s heart, urging him not to doubt that he could be healed by the saint’s power. The result then strengthened their faith, and each obtained an outcome suited to his endeavour: the one by offering water sanctified through contact with the holy bone, the other by swallowing health together with the drink. And so that the miracle might be more clearly attested and free from doubt, at that same Mass, during the Alleluia, he sounded forth with the vocal organ in whose art he excelled. He was no less diligent in service than Peter’s mother-in-law, who ministered to the Lord who had healed her [Matthew 8:14–15; Mark 1:29–31; Luke 4:38–39], except that she obtained healing through the prayers of others, while he secured it through his own faith.

¹¹¹ The same bishop had another archdeacon, Hubald, a man who had acquired considerable knowledge of the liberal arts, though because of a hesitancy in his speech he communicated them poorly to his hearers. He had devoted himself as a familiar servant to the saint, because once, while staying at Malmesbury during the feast, he had been healed through the saint’s agency of a severe illness. For when he was afflicted by a painful disorder of the neck and shoulders which deprived him of sleep and took away his appetite, by merely touching the shrine, beneath which he had stooped, he stole, so to speak, his health. For the custodians of the church regularly follow this custom: after the procession they place the shrine crosswise before the doors in such a way that no one can pass through the open entrance without lowering his body. There whoever approaches full of faith obtains whatever he desires, and scarcely anyone ever departs without the fulfilment of his prayer. The bold faith of those making offerings strives to gain from the saint, in return for a single penny or obol, the rich reward of many prayers. This same Archdeacon Hubald, while staying at Salisbury, was suffering from the same troublesome illness described above. The pain had exceeded its former limits, so that it persistently afflicted not only his neck and shoulders but also his arm down to the very tips of his fingers, with such severity that he could neither raise his hand to his mouth nor use it for any purpose. It was then Ascension Day, when throughout Christendom a carefully ordered solemn procession is held. The relics were brought out from their repositories, and it was decided that the arm of the most blessed Aldhelm should be carried with the others. The sight of the arm strengthened the archdeacon’s wavering faith and awakened his slumbering memory, so that he trusted that, through the merits of the same saint by whom he had once been delivered, he would again be freed from the same affliction. He therefore approached the bishop with humble entreaties, asking to be allowed to carry the arm during the procession, although this had little to do with his office. He believed that bearing so sacred a burden would greatly contribute towards obtaining his recovery. The bishop, rejoicing at such faith and at the same time greatly desiring the recovery of a man who was both close to him and, as I have said, genuinely learned, lifted the relic from the altar with his own hand entrusted it to him to carry. What I am about to say may perhaps seem incredible, except to us who are accustomed to such works of Aldhelm. For the moment the archdeacon placed the fingers of his weakened hand upon the relics, the pain fled from his arm, the use of his fingers sprang back to its accustomed strength, the heaviness of his shoulders vanished, and the diseased swelling of his neck subsided. He was already preparing to speak, already eager to give voice to his joy, when the bishop forestalled him by asking why his face was shining so brightly. Hubald replied with joyful words, as far as his happiness allowed, lingering long in praise and dwelling long upon the commendation of the saint.

¹¹² These are Aldhelm’s daily works; these are the preliminary displays of his miraculous powers. If anyone should call them small, even so the loving kindness of our father will appear worthy of praise, since we see that he does not disdain to act in the smallest things, while we know him to be powerful in the greatest. Indeed, I scarcely know whether it is a lesser power to perform easy things every day than to display something exceedingly great on a single occasion.

¹¹³ After Abbot Warin died, Godfrey, who had been a monk of Jumièges, succeeded him within fifteen days. In his time and through his diligence the honour of the church greatly increased. Religious observance flourished. Very many ornaments were made, as far as a man of such limited means could manage in so busy a time. A number of books were copied, or rather the first fruits of a library were offered. If I praise this pursuit, I may seem to do so by a certain right of my own, since in this respect especially I have yielded to none of my predecessors in this place; indeed, unless what I say is boasting, I have easily surpassed them all. Let there only be someone now to preserve what has been acquired; I have gathered together many things for reading, emulating in this respect alone the excellence of that praiseworthy man. I therefore did not fail, according to the measure of my ability, to support the laudable undertaking which he had begun; would that there were someone to cherish our labours. Monks who had previously been able only to stumble through elementary learning were thoroughly instructed. The service of God was established on a generous scale and carried out diligently, to such a degree that no monastery in England surpassed Malmesbury, while many fell short of it. He himself was there among the first and departed with the last. He encouraged the good by his courtesy and terrified offenders by his severity. He was quick to anger, but the very man who had provoked him could immediately restrain or break that anger with a gentle reply. He was sober in his moderation, excessively so, as people said; often content, as far as he himself was concerned, with a single dish, and rarely drinking more than once between the midday and evening meals. Yet he was extremely fond of refinement, allowing nothing to be brought to his table unless it had been prepared with the greatest care, and severely rebuking any uncivilised word or deed. After becoming abbot he maintained complete celibacy, though before that he had been touched by some ill repute and was infamous for one offence in particular, and that a grievous one. For when the younger King William imposed an unbearable tax upon England, intending thereby to purchase Normandy from his brother Robert, Godfrey, in order to pay his own share with ease, shamefully disposed of the church’s treasures which the care of former generations had accumulated, following the advice of the worst sort of men. I could name them, if sharing the guilt could lessen the master’s crime. But indeed,

¹¹⁴ “the crime makes equal those whom it stains.”

¹¹⁵ Indeed, in a single day twelve Gospel-books, eight crosses and eight shrines were stripped and dismantled of their silver and gold. But it turned out well that scarcity frustrated his greed and failed to satisfy his desire, for no more than seventy-two marks were found. On the following night, however, he seemed in a vision to see a man of terrifying countenance and bearing rush upon him and throw scalding-hot water from a pitcher into his face. Awakened from sleep by this terror, he soon experienced through the punishment that followed how true the dream had been. For first his face, and soon his whole body, wasted away under a dreadful disease, the royal disease. It was not the milder kind, but that more disfiguring than the others, which arises from the worst melancholy of the bodily humours, with pustules swelling over the whole body. This accords with the saint’s familiar and customary practice towards everyone: he bears injuries for a long time, but once he has determined to bear them no longer, he exposes the person who wronged him as a spectacle to the whole world. We have seen this happen to many with satisfaction, and with eager hope we confidently expect it to happen to many more. On the dead man’s body there was found a bronze band which had encircled his entire belly; the skin had already grown over it, and it had penetrated the very vital organs. When this was displayed to the people as a miracle, a monk who had been among his confidants came forward and said that an iron band, fastened around him in the same way, had not long before been broken by divine power. A bronze one had therefore been fitted in its place, because metal of that kind is enduring. This had been done so as to impose a limit upon his appetite, so that if his belly expanded beyond its usual measure, the result would be not pleasure but punishment. The monk said that he had been bound by an oath not to reveal this for as long as the abbot enjoyed the breath of life. But because nothing is done so well that it cannot be distorted by words, someone attacked this act in malicious verses as follows:

¹¹⁶ “It is right to mortify the fleshly members against vices [Colossians 3:5];
It is not right that they should be mortified with iron.
It would have been right for him to be released by natural death;
Since he forestalled it, he is his own murderer.”

¹¹⁷ To this one may reply in the same number of verses:

¹¹⁸ Indeed, it is right by whatever means to restrain the body;
Examples teach this, and holy faith maintains it.
Nor did he wish by iron to bring upon himself an early death,
But to place iron bridles upon his own vices.

¹¹⁹ In the days of this abbot the precious confessor did not cease from miracles; indeed, he seemed to shine all the more brightly because that diligent man regarded them with favourable joy. Of these, the two which I shall relate occurred before my own memory; the rest I both saw, and am glad to have seen.

¹²⁰ A woman lived nearby whose birth was neither so humble as to make her wholly common, nor so exalted as to make her proud. Rather, the fortune of her middling lineage also provided her with a modest household. After passing through the years of puberty, she obtained a husband of equal rank and diligently won his love by harmony of character, a pleasing appearance and fruitfulness in bearing children. Their modest condition delighted them, and there was nothing more they desired, since they possessed harmony of mind, health of body, and moreover an abundance of food. But, as almost always happens in human affairs, the woman’s illness interrupted those joys: the sinews throughout her body contracted, and at first she crawled about the house at a tortoise-like pace, but soon lay helpless upon her bed. Worn down by this illness for five years, she spent on alms and physicians whatever necessities the household appeared to have gathered together. Since nothing was added to replace what was continually being consumed, the household, once well provided for, fell into such poverty that it lacked even daily bread. Consequently hunger, arriving as a newcomer, drove out the former inhabitants and brought in new ones. Her faithless husband therefore repudiated the woman and deserted his marital affection, holding fidelity cheap and making little account of the long habit of their love. Thus, while he departed and, in a shameful bargain, pledged his household possessions in return for food, the sick woman was sustained by the charity of strangers. But at last God looked upon her with a merciful eye and comforted her in a vision with this message: “If you wish to recover your health, go to the monastery of Malmesbury. There, through the merits of Saint Aldhelm, you will obtain what you ask.” Interpreting the voice she had heard, though she had not seen its speaker, as a good omen, she shook off sleep and rejoiced that the ready movement of her limbs showed that much of their former heaviness had departed. Thinking that her sufferings had come to an end, she resolved to test the truth of the dream. And so, after attempting to walk around the house but making little progress, she was placed in a cart to be taken to the abbey. She arrived there a few days before the feast, her mind raised up by good hope. At once, forcing her way through the crowd however dense, and lying before the altar, she demanded perfect health from the saint, from whom she had received both a promise in her dream and a pledge in the movement of her limbs. Nor did the urgency of her prayers and her unrestrained cries harm her; rather, they brought her praise among men, and before God and the saint a swift and complete recovery. Once she had obtained it, she had as many witnesses that the miracle was genuine as there were townspeople from nearby and country people from afar. Afterwards she lived happily for a long time and, by the judgement of a lawful court, brought the husband who had deserted their marriage back into her embraces. He too willingly accepted the judgement, since it was reported that his wife had never betrayed her chastity, either through poverty of any kind or through the persistent advances of any importunate man.

¹²¹ A girl from the village called Pukelicerce suffered from the same kind of contraction, indeed an even more severe one, before she had reached marriageable age. For her spine was so bent that her cheeks almost rested upon her knees. Moreover, her knees were drawn up as though into a point, so that she could neither crawl upon stools, as many disabled people of this kind do, nor move anywhere at all unless carried by another person’s hands. She was in the sixth year of her illness and the twelfth of her age. Her disability had increased as she grew older, and health and sickness had each occupied half the girl’s life. Then her uterine brother, pitying his sister’s misery, to which a lack of necessities added still further hardship, placed her in a vehicle and brought her to Malmesbury. He did this once, and then a second time, as the yearly cycle returned to the feast, but in vain. For both the first and the second time she returned without healing, deprived of the gift she had sought. This was not because the saint’s compassion was slow, for it readily comes to the aid of all who appeal to him with faith. Rather, I believe, either the belief of those who brought her wavered and their faith grew cold—for what could a child of that age believe or disbelieve?—or else it was so that the miracle performed upon the little girl might afterwards be more firmly attested among the people, since the town could not fail to know one who had been brought there and taken away again so many times. In the third year, therefore, she was brought back, and for a third time spent her persistent prayers without result. Consequently, when weariness and lack of faith drove her brother away, she remained until the Lord’s Ascension, which was to be followed three days later by our feast. The day solemnly commemorating the triumph of the Lord Jesus had therefore arrived, on which our illustrious patron often, or indeed always, refuses to leave some remarkable work undone. For at that time the shrine is carried out among the people and the doors are closed, as I have said, so that no one may enter the church without bowing his back beneath it. Thus, according to custom, the saint’s body had left the church, carried by its bearers; but with the sick girl there remained his life-giving spirit, the giver of health. She lay before the crucifix, stretched level with the ground; she heard with her ears the joyful noise of those going out, and this made her breast heave all the more with weeping. The joy of others doubled her own sorrow. Suddenly, therefore, touched by divine healing, she rose; the stiffness of her knees relaxed, the curvature of her back straightened, and she sprang forward to meet the returning saint and give thanks. Who could relate how much applause there was from those rejoicing, how many voices testified: “I saw her; I knew her. This is the girl who was crippled, and now she is well!” But it is not enough to set down what we have heard, unless my pen also takes care to record the things which God has granted us ourselves to see. Once I have done so, the reader, if he is an impartial judge and is not driven by partisan feeling, should no more refuse to believe me than he would wish to be believed himself if he related, either in writing or by word of mouth, some remarkable event that happened in his own lifetime. Nor indeed, I think, will anyone say either that I ought not to have trusted my own eyes or that I ought not to have written down what I saw for the praise of God. The former would be the act of a fool and an unbeliever, the latter of a proud and ungrateful man. I seem indeed to have rendered no small service to the saints of my own country, while also not leaving my lord and patron without honour, since he has deigned until now to grant me both life, so that I could praise him, and knowledge, so that I might know how. He is plainly a man worthy of praise for the distinction of his many virtues, whom ancient philosophy could not equal even in its aspirations. Indeed, what philosophy taught ought to be done was less than what this man actually accomplished; and simple faithfulness to truth is greater than the ambitious falsehood of eloquence. What his devotion to God was while he lived is testified by the miracles performed after his death; and the things which I myself have seen have compelled me to believe the truth of those miracles. For past deeds deserve belief because of those occurring in the present, and recent signs confirm the accounts of the ancients.

¹²² Let Ernulf of Hesding, then, be brought forward as an example, a man of the highest reputation among the nobles of England. He was remarkable for his skill in agriculture, and remarkable for his generosity in relieving the poverty of the poor. He was so scrupulous about tithes that, if a barn had already been filled before the tithe had been taken, he would order everything to be brought out and tithed without delay. More than once he experienced that, through divine grace, the produce of his estates increased in proportion to the care he took that no fraud should be committed in the payment of tithes. His hands were afflicted by a dreadful disease, so that, besides ulcers dripping with black pus, the sinews twisted about with trembling contortions. He could therefore neither use them for any task nor, shameful though it is even to say, use them to wipe away the remnants of food. Because of his disability he had to be fed by another person’s hand, and because of his embarrassment he had to be washed by another’s. He therefore resolved to go to Malmesbury, intending there to try the skill of a certain Gregory, at that time a physician of the highest reputation. Gregory, after employing every device of his art in vain, both at the command of Abbot Godfrey and in the hope of winning the man’s favour, finally declared that the disease was incurable and must be left to fate. In this he performed the duty of an honourable man, refusing to strip a sick man who longed for health of gifts to no purpose or drain him of his money. The abbot, however, thinking that something should be attempted through the saint’s miraculous power, ordered the balsam which had been found in the tomb to be brought and the man’s hands to be anointed with it. What a remarkable thing! As soon as a drop of the precious liquid touched his hand, the trembling of the sinews ceased, the flowing corruption dried up, and, to be brief, within a very few days he recovered completely. It is well established that this miracle greatly increased the distinguished man’s devotion, so much so that, casting aside attachment to his family and spurning his accumulated wealth, he set out for Jerusalem with no expectation of returning.

¹²³ Among the multitude of religious people coming to the feast, a number of rogues also mingled, who earned their living by an easy means, provoking laughter from their hearers with invented jokes. One of these came there when I was a boy, more skilful than the others in biting humour, and also adept at imitating obscene gestures whenever words alone failed him. When the blessed saint’s shrine had been carried outside, this shameless man stood before it and did something which is offensive even to relate. First, baring his groin, he polluted the air; then, breaking wind, he fouled it further. Although this provoked laughter among fools, it caused immense grief to the monks, who were distressed that the rogue should babble on with impunity. But when they prayed for vengeance, the confessor’s attentive ear was not far away. For scarcely had the man lowered his clothes when, look, before the people he was seized violently by a demon and began paying the penalty for his shamelessness. He spun round and round, foamed like a pig being driven about by barking dogs, and gnashed his teeth with such a clatter that it was plainly evident that he had passed into the power of the one at whose prompting he had undertaken so great a crime. Therefore his companions, using kindly force, seized him and dragged him home by the hands, whether he wished it or not. There he was tied to a post, and when he was thought to be becoming somewhat calmer, he suddenly broke loose. He overturned the table upon the guests who were dining, battered some with his fists, struck others senseless with missiles, and drove everyone away, using the vessels which had been set out as weapons. But his companions, thinking that the wretched man ought not to be abandoned, gathered together in a compact group, seized the madman again, bound him with tighter straps and dragged him to the tomb. There, after three nights of vigil and as many days of fasting, while the monks prayed and by their groans sought another man’s salvation, he was healed not only of the demon but, what may be called a greater thing, of his wantonness. Thereafter he was always modest and gentle, though his eyes remained bitter and threatening, and by their bloodshot glare he always frightened us boys. For we remembered how, before his healing, while sitting at the tomb, he would fix his face upon us and lunge towards us, or, if he could do nothing else, spit filthy saliva at us.

¹²⁴ A woman born at Kilingeham was spinning on a Saturday, when evening was already declining towards sunset. When those sitting with her warned her to stop work out of reverence for the Lord’s Day, she not only refused, but arrogantly reproached them for criticising her while she was attending to necessary work, and accused them of foolish idleness because they were not doing the same. Punishment followed her words, and immediately she was struck to the ground, one half of her body becoming lifeless, so that she very nearly died. But when repeated splashing with water revived her, she acknowledged her fault, lamented her misery and prayed for forgiveness. Yet we do not obtain pardon as easily as we incur guilt, because pleasure flies away and passes, but sin drives down a stubborn root. Therefore the woman, supporting her steps with staffs on either side, her limbs already almost buried within a living corpse, went round seeking the protection of many saints for many years. But when, as it seemed to her, she had everywhere spent her labour in vain, at last, having heard of the miracles of the blessed Aldhelm, she made her way to Malmesbury. She arrived forty days beforehand, throughout which she remained in the church, going nowhere except once each day, and by fasting reduced the burden of her sins. By now the joy of Easter had gladdened the minds of mortals, and on the second day we were receiving pilgrims. That verse was being sung in which Fulbert, bishop of Chartres, with a most elegant dilemma challenged the Jews either to return Christ whom they had buried or to worship him risen. As she stood before the crucifix leaning upon her staffs, she suddenly fell to the ground with greater force than usual and struck the pavement. Many rushed forward, wishing to raise her after her fall, fearing that the violent impact might have broken the paralysed woman’s limbs. Others, whose judgement was sounder, prevented them, saying that the outcome should be entrusted to God, who knew perfectly how to order it. So, lifting up their hearts, everyone remained silent and watched intently, when she rose completely healed, her eyes sparkling, her fingers moving, and finally her whole body restored. The certainty of the miracle, confirmed by the townspeople who had known her thoroughly through their long acquaintance with her, opened their mouths in praise of God and the confessor.

¹²⁵ Calna is a village about ten miles from Malmesbury, the territories of the abbey and the village adjoining one another. A man native to this place, who had lost the power of speech, came to the feast in that same year, if I remember correctly. He was very well known throughout the region because of the remarkable nature of his affliction, and it had been proved by many tests that he was truly mute. For the governor of the province had more than once subjected the man to torture, so that a confession forcibly extracted from him might reveal as fact that his condition was feigned. This was harsh indeed, but the harshness was occasioned by the pretence of certain wretches who, to the mockery of God and men, counterfeit every kind of illness in order by such deception to beg a few coins and fill the emptiness of their bellies. Amid his torments, therefore, the man uttered miserable groans and, with a contrite spirit, such as God loves [Psalm 51:17], longed for an end to his sufferings. Although his tongue was powerless, however, his understanding was keen, and he mingled with the crowds of people hastening to the feast. At first, before the greater altar, he alone was permitted to see the bishop walking beside the base of the altar, his half-closed face beaming with joy upon the monks as they sang. Seeing this, he tried to point it out to the others, whose clarity of sight was overwhelmed by the burden of their sins, using gestures of his fingers and opening his mouth enormously. But since the power of words failed him when he tried to speak, and they were not divinely inspired so as to understand him, he rushed off indignantly into the crypt, which at that time formed part of the new building. There, when he saw the same thing and struggled with great effort to speak, a monk who was present, anticipating something divine, placed the fingers from the arm of the blessed Aldhelm into the mouth of the man as he cried out. Then, drawing his teeth far back out of reverence for the holy fingers and heaving sighs from deep within, with a tremendous effort he expelled a small lump of flesh together with blood, and cried aloud: “Lord Saint Aldhelm, help me.” From that moment onward, those words marked the happy beginning of fluent speech. He lived for several years afterwards speaking without difficulty, except that, because the passage of his throat was narrow, his voice sounded somewhat hoarse.

¹²⁶ A woman of the same village, not a native but a resident there, who was deprived of sight, recovered at the feast of Father Aldhelm in the following year the light which she had lost for eighteen years. Since I do not know the cause of her blindness, I will not invent one, being careful not to betray my readers’ trust through excessive talk. This much is certain: as she stood before the crucifix, conspicuous with her fair hair hanging loose down her back but disfigured by the darkness of her eyes, her sightless eyeballs began to move with repeated prickling sensations. Irritated by these, the woman at first drew blood by rubbing them gently. But when, as the itching grew more severe, she satisfied it by scratching more harshly with her nails, a more abundant stream flowed out, and she asked for a basin to catch the blood. Thus, once the obstructions had been cleared away, the clear light of vision illuminated the hollows of her eyes. Then her relatives, most trustworthy people who were present, both applauded the miracle and to this day support her with a regular allowance. Having professed the veil of a more holy way of life, she suffers no loss of sight except insofar as advancing age brings her nearer to old age. She remains alive in this year in which we are writing these things, namely the year 1125 from the Lord’s Incarnation, the four hundred and sixteenth year after the death of the most holy confessor, and the twenty-fifth year of King Henry’s reign. It was a year notable for the mutilation of counterfeiters who had corrupted the coinage throughout England. Because of that same falsification it was likewise infamous for the high price of food, devouring famine, and, moreover, indiscriminate slaughter among the common people. It was disastrous through the deaths of men of the highest eminence, especially Pope Calixtus and Henry V, emperor of Germany, than whom none had ever been more distinguished in their respective offices. It was troubled by thunder and lightning throughout every month, and by continuous rain on almost every day without interruption, so that even the summer months were wet and muddy.