Prologue to Book Four Begins. #

¹ The books are unequal in what they contain, because the material for what must be said does not everywhere come to us in equal abundance. I am indeed ready and willing to praise the saints of my native land, but when I make the attempt I lack both knowledge and ability. For I cannot know all the saints, whether they are separated from us by the most distant regions, or whether, through the negligence of writers, no accounts of their lives survive for us to see. Nor can my barren intellect and feeble eloquence suitably adorn with titles of praise, or match with triumphs of victory, those whom the gift of God has enabled me to know to some extent through nearness of place and knowledge of writings. But as I ponder these things, faith comes to meet me, scatters the clouds of doubt, and gives me confidence, since I know that a person’s good will alone is sufficient for eternal reward, if hostile fortune should happen to begrudge its fulfilment. I am lying if the angels did not proclaim peace to those of good will [Luke 2:14]. Therefore, if there is nothing else in me, let the ready devotion of my mind serve the saints. Let the tongue of their dependant serve them, if it can: for they have often preserved him until now, and recently, by a glorious miracle, rescued him from a remarkable danger. Following the course already begun, then, in this fourth book I shall make my circuit of the bishoprics of the Mercians, just as formerly, in the fourth place, I traversed their kingdom. It was always, for its time, very extensive, and was therefore divided into several bishoprics. This was especially so through the ambition of King Offa, who established an archbishopric at Licitfeld, guided not by authority but by the pleasant heart of the region. From this point, therefore, as I pursue my intended course, the following beginning presents itself for my account.

Book Four. #

¹ The province of the Mercians now has five bishoprics, though formerly perhaps it had more. At Worcester, indeed, these were the bishops: Bosel, Ostfor, Eguin, Wilfrid, Milred, Wermund, Tilher, Hethered, Denebert, Herebert, Aluuin, Hereferth, Ethelun, Wilferth, Kinewold, Dunstan, Oswald, Aldulf, Wistan; these last three were archbishops. Lefsi, Briliteg, Living, Aldred. Wistan was most renowned in our own age for holiness. If my account of him should extend somewhat further, I beg that no one grow weary of it.

² Wlatan was honourably brought up from childhood and grew to manhood among disciplined men and amid such attention to learning as there then was in England. When he reached the proper age, he received the priesthood, and did not fall away from that rank through faults of conduct. For he did not, as some did then and do now, hastily sing Mass in the morning and afterwards spend the whole day intent upon gluttony or profit; rather, he fulfilled the required office with more painstaking care and added long daily prayers. Content with the offerings of the faithful, he supported his life upon them. Of singular modesty, he preserved the seal of his virginity intact and presented it to heaven after his life. Thus, even while still living in the world, he was considered greater than any monk. Though free from excessive drinking, he allowed himself to eat meat. Yet, as soon as he could, he seized an opportunity to renounce it. The occasion was this. One day he was due to go out to a certain public assembly. The necessity of the matter allowed no excuse. Nevertheless, it seemed best to him to remain fasting until Mass had been sung. His attendants hurried matters so that their master would not leave without having eaten, and a goose was put on the fire. The priest stood at the altar and conducted the service with his customary devotion. During the secret prayers of the Mass, since the church was close to the house, the smell of the roasting meat filled his nostrils. The scent drew his mind towards it, so that he was caught by the enticement of appetite. Immediately bringing his mind back and recognising his fault, he struggled vigorously to turn his thoughts elsewhere. But when this proved fruitless, he became angry with himself and swore an oath upon the sacred things he was touching that under no circumstances would he ever again eat that kind of food. So, when Mass had been sung, he departed for his business without food, pleading that the lateness of the hour now pressed him on. That occasion caused him to follow a thoroughly rigorous example, so that for ever afterwards he abstained from all meat and even from richer foods. Yet he did not look sternly upon those who ate them, and declared that he himself felt no desire for such foods. If there were any meat that was especially delicious, however, he thought that larks would give the greatest pleasure to those who ate them.

³ As his devotion to his chosen way of life increased, he became a monk at Worcester and rose through every office to the position of prior. While in that office he shone with the exalted praise of his virtues, he experienced a temptation from the devil, who, I believe, envied his goodness and attacked him one night while he was praying before the altar, challenging him to wrestle. Stronger than fear, he grappled with his challenger and crushed him in the hard clasp of his arms. He did the same a second and a third time, except that on the third occasion, panting and growing hot within, he almost showed by his pulse that he was exhausted. But merciful God came to his aid and drove the raging monster away. When it vanished into the air, Wistan realised that it was the devil, although before then he had thought it was a certain servant whose appearance the devil had assumed. A sure indication of this was that whenever he happened to see that servant afterwards, a trembling immediately ran through his limbs and he turned completely pale. In every other respect he was free from fear, so much so that he declared that he did not know what terror was. He would never dismount from his horse because a bridge was broken, and he would walk fearlessly along the narrowest beams at the top of buildings, so that it might rightly be said of him: “The righteous is as confident as a lion” [Proverbs 28:1].

⁴ Meanwhile there arose the matter I mentioned above, whereby Aldred the archbishop, returning from Rome with the cardinals following close behind him, was pressed to consecrate a bishop for the city of Worcester. After bringing the matter forward for discussion, and taking precautions for his own interests in the future, he chose Wistan, evidently considering him ineffective. He thought that by Wistan’s simplicity and holiness he could conceal his own plundering, intending to seize whatever he pleased from the possessions of the bishopric. Wistan was therefore approved with the favour of the cardinals and examined with due severity, and received the divine gift. A beautiful and venerable omen came in the words: “Look, truly an Israelite in whom there is no deceit” [John 1:47]. Nothing could have been more true. For there was in him neither goodness feigned under the appearance of holiness nor, on the other hand, anything of cunning fraudulence. Nor did Aldred find him as sluggish as he had expected. For Wistan coaxed back from him most of the property that he was wrongfully withholding, pleading to him at the appropriate moment the poverty of his own position. Thus he discharged the office entrusted to him, relying more upon his innate love of virtue than upon learning. Yet he was not as dull in letters as people thought, for he knew everything else that was necessary, apart from the fables of the poets and the twisted syllogisms of the dialecticians, which he neither knew nor considered worth knowing. For the rest, he was sufficiently learned to deliver any elegant discourse extempore, and was skilled at moving his hearers to tears by setting before them the joys of heaven and the punishments of hell. He could persuade by his speech wherever he wished, because his life matched his teaching, and he lived no differently from the way he taught others that they should live. Therefore God supplied him with eloquence that both increased His praise and benefited his hearers. In food and drink, as I have said before, he was abstemious, although in his hall, according to the custom of the English, drinking continued for hours after the meal. Sitting with them himself, he would meditate upon the Psalms, though when his turn came he pretended to drink along with the others. The others drained foaming cups; he held a very small vessel and encouraged them to merriment, yielding more to the custom of his country than to the judgement of his own mind. Yet he did not neglect the customs of the Normans either, maintaining a splendid retinue of knights who, through their annual stipends and daily provisions, consumed an enormous amount.

⁵ Concerning his religious observances, we have received the following account. Every day he sang Mass and added the Psalter, and he did not omit the commemorations of all the saints whose individual feast days occur one after another throughout the year, dividing them into seven portions for the seven canonical hours. Whenever he was at Worcester, he regularly sang the principal Mass, saying that in this way he repaid the duty of the priest serving for the week, from which he himself was unwilling to be excused on account of his episcopal office. He also frequently attended the evening conference, and, going with the others into the church, after making confession and receiving the blessing, he withdrew to the dining hall. From there, wherever he went, he constantly recited the Psalter, frequently repeating whatever verses of prayer occurred to him, even to the weariness of the person chanting with him. Out of regard for no person’s presence, not even when he was at the king’s court and sitting at his table, did he omit the blessings which the English were accustomed to pronounce over drink. Whenever necessity compelled him to attend the county court, he first called down a curse upon wicked judges and a blessing upon the upright. Then, sitting down, if anything concerning divine matters happened to be discussed, he applied the keen attention of his mind to it; but if the matter was secular, as it more often was, he would grow listless with boredom and fall asleep. Yet if anyone thought fit to speak against him, he would discover from his reply that Wistan’s understanding was by no means dull.

⁶ A priest named Egelric had come to him, drawn by the fame of his holiness; and from the shining example of this man, Wistan had taken into himself much fuel for holiness. For Egelric was devoted to continual prayer, even amid crowds, to the amazement of those who saw him, since every day after Mass he would go through the Psalter together with prayers no fewer in number. He was so severe in correction that even the bishop himself, if ever, as happens in conversation, he became somewhat too relaxed, was immediately rebuked either by his words or by the reproach of his eyes. For the bishop sometimes corrected his people’s departures from what was right, but more often, so far as propriety allowed, he tolerated them. Yet he would in no way endure sluggishness in divine worship: if any of his attendants, overcome by drunkenness or sleepiness, had failed to attend Matins, he would punish him with a sharp stroke of the rod. Finally, by personally waking those of higher rank, he himself would sing Matins with them. He wore humbler clothes without distinction, protecting himself from the cold more with lambskins than with furs of any other kind. If anyone told him that he ought at least to put on catskins, he would reply with playful good humour: “Believe me”—for this manner of swearing had become habitual with the bishop—“I have never heard ‘Cat of God’ sung, but ‘Lamb of God’ [John 1:29]; and therefore I wish to be warmed not by a cat but by a lamb.” The fear of God had so taken possession of his mind that what others turned into an occasion for display, he transformed into material for contrition. When the work on the greater church, which he himself had begun from the foundations, had advanced so far that the monks were now to move into it, orders were given that the old church, which blessed Oswald had built, should be stripped and demolished. Standing outdoors to watch this, Wistan could not hold back his tears. When his close companions gently reproached him for this, saying that he ought rather to rejoice that during his own lifetime such honour had come to the church, since the increased number of monks required larger quarters, he replied: “I understand it very differently: we wretched men destroy the works of the saints so that we may win praise for ourselves. That age of blessed men did not know how to construct ostentatious buildings, but under whatever sort of roof they had, they offered themselves to God and drew those under their authority to follow their example. We, on the contrary, strive to heap up stones while neglecting souls.” He said much more in this vein, weakening with his arguments the opinions advanced against him.

⁷ Now the account will show that he was not without miracles; for what has been said about his character will suffice. At the dedication of a certain church he had preached to the people, speaking at length on various matters, but still more about peace. Moved by this, several people who had been divided by bitter and deadly hatred forgave one another their offences. There was one man, however, whom no warnings and no persuasion could induce to forgive an enemy who begged pardon for the killing of his brother. When this man was brought forward and, after much discussion, most obstinately refused, the bishop spoke these very words: “The Lord said in the Gospel: ‘Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called the children of God’ [Matthew 5:9]. It is therefore evident that if peacemakers are blessed and are the children of God, those who cause discord are wretched and are the children of the devil. I therefore commend you to him whose son you are, and I deliver you to Satan for the destruction of the flesh, according to the command of the Apostle: ‘That the spirit may be saved in the day of the Lord’ [1 Corinthians 5:5].” The holy man had scarcely finished speaking when that wretched man, now made a slave of the enemy, began before all the people to gnash his teeth, foam at the mouth, and toss his hair about. At last, dashed to the ground, he rolled about in a frenzy. Wlstan was begged to have mercy on him, but at first he delayed. Finally, pressed and overcome by their tears, he ordered the enemy to depart. It departed as readily as it had come. When the man had recovered his senses and was urged to grant forgiveness for the offence, with astonishing shamelessness he refused to make peace. He was therefore ordered to be tormented again and again to be healed, yet he persisted in his refusal. The third time, when his whole body had been so shattered by the demon’s assault that he was almost gasping out his life, he made peace, and thereafter remained sound and unharmed until his death.

⁸ Under the elder William, Lanfranc accused him of ignorance of letters, while Thomas, archbishop of York, claimed that by ancient right he ought to be subject to him. When he was ordered to answer both charges in council, he went out so that he might prepare his response after more careful deliberation. Then, while the monks who were with him were deeply anxious about this important business, he remarked: “Believe me, we have not yet sung None. Let us sing it, therefore.” His companions urged him first to settle the matter for which they had come, saying that there would be more than enough time afterwards for singing, and that if the king and nobles heard of this, they would quite reasonably think them ridiculous. “First, believe me,” he said, “we shall perform God’s service, and afterwards we shall conduct men’s dispute.” So, when the Hour had been sung, without devising any false evasion or contriving any specious embellishment of the truth, he immediately set out to enter the council chamber. His companions tried to hold him back, but could not persuade him. Indeed, when they expressed fear for his case, he said: “Know for certain that I visibly see here with me the blessed archbishops Dunstan and Oswald, who today, protecting me by their prayers, will blunt the sharpness of those who speak falsely.” Thus, after giving his blessing to a monk who possessed very little eloquence but knew some Norman French, he won his case, so that the man who had previously been thought unworthy to govern his own diocese was humbly asked by the archbishop of York to deign to visit his, since the archbishop himself was afraid to go there because of fear of enemies or ignorance of the language. Nor was this all: he also recovered, all but one, the remaining estates of the bishopric which Archbishop Aldred had retained, with Archbishop Lanfranc steadfastly supporting his case, since he was pressing against his rival in primacy and power.

⁹ Under the younger William, Roger, count of Montgomery, having plotted treachery against the king, took up arms in hostility together with the accomplices of the same conspiracy. After laying waste everything from Scrobbesberia as far as the territory of Worcester, he was already approaching the city itself when the royal soldiers stationed there explained the danger to the bishop. He hurled the thunderbolt of a curse against the traitors who had not kept faith with their lord, and ordered the soldiers to make haste to avenge the wrongs done to God and the Church. Someone might call what followed astonishingly sudden, but we must yield to the authority of truthful witnesses. For some of the enemy, when they saw the royal troops, were struck by paralysing fear, while others were even blinded, and they conceded to the townsmen a complete victory of a kind they could never have hoped for. Thus many were put to flight by a few; some were killed, and others were carried away wounded.

¹⁰ What of the fact that he was not without prophecy? There was a certain Alduin whom he had made a monk, and in that vast wilderness called Malvern he practised the eremitical life with his companion Guido. After long struggles, Guido thought there was a shorter path to glory: to go to Jerusalem, where through the hardship of the journey he might either see the Sepulchre of God or hasten to a blessed death at the hands of the Saracens. Alduin was drawn to the same resolution, but nevertheless sought the advice of Father Wistan. The bishop dissuaded him and cooled his ardour, saying: “Please, Alduin, do not go anywhere, but remain in that place. Believe me, you would marvel if you knew what I know: how much God is going to accomplish through you in that place.” On hearing this, the monk departed, and thereafter remained firmer in his purpose, while hope in the prophecy lightened every kind of hardship. Not long afterwards the prediction hastened towards fulfilment: one man came to Alduin, then another after the first, a third after the second, and so on until their number reached thirty. At first they also had an abundant supply of provisions, since their neighbours considered themselves blessed if they could give anything to the servants of God. Whatever they lacked, faith supplied, for they thought it a small matter to go without bodily food when they were growing rich in spiritual joy.

¹¹ A certain merchant named Seuulf was accustomed to come to him every year, so that by his counsel he might find a remedy for the diseases of his soul. Once, after granting him absolution, Wistan said: “You often repeat the sins you have confessed because, as the saying goes, ‘Opportunity makes the thief.’ Therefore I advise you to become a monk. If you do so, you will no longer have the opportunity for these sins.” When the man replied that he could not become a monk because of the strictness of the way of life, the bishop, somewhat displeased, said: “Go. You will become a monk whether you wish it or not, but only when the instruments of vice have grown old within you.” We afterwards saw this come to pass, because in our monastery, when he had already been broken by old age, illness admonished him and he was converted. Yet although he repented many times, whenever anyone reminded him of the bishop’s words, he checked his impulse and softened his resolve.

¹² Nicholas, a particular favourite among those he had brought up, who afterwards became prior of the church of Worcester, was sitting at his feet. Meanwhile the bishop, overflowing with good humour, gently stroked the young man’s head with his hand; his thinning hair already brought him close to the reproach of baldness. “And I think,” he said, “you will become bald.” But the young man, who was already distressed that in this respect he was growing old while still in adolescence, complained about the fate of his falling hair. “Why,” he said, “do you not keep it from falling?” The bishop, smiling in reply, said: “Believe me, for as long as I live, those hairs that remain will never fall out.” What he had said came to pass. But in the very week in which he departed this life, all the hairs somehow vanished so completely that they left the skin bare.

¹³ He gave clear indications of his own death, often indeed, but most plainly in this instance. When news was brought to him of the death of his sister, the only one he had, he replied: “Now the plough has reached my furrow, and the brother will follow the sister not many days afterwards.” About half a year before his death, therefore, he was laid low by fever and was being prepared for his entrance into the heavenly life. He bore his illness with great courage and comforted his people, who wept before him and feared the tyranny of the bishop who would succeed him, saying: “Let groaning cease and let there be no weeping, for this is not the loss of life but a change of life. Nor shall I ever be absent from you; rather, the nearer I am to God once this earthly frame has been dissolved, the quicker I shall be to help you. Through my intercession prosperity will come to you; through my resistance adversity will depart from you.” Happy tongue, which dared to pour such confident words into human ears from the overflowing storehouse of conscience! Others beg with sighs and sobs that prayers be offered for them; he promised that he himself would pray for others. What wonder is this? Was he conscious of no sin? Rather, it was holy simplicity speaking: simplicity that did not know how to distrust the mercy of God. So he was lifted up in the presence of those around him and, amid great wailing from laymen and monks, was carried into the church, where he remained above ground for three days. For the very appearance and form of his lifeless body seemed still to display the grace of the living bishop, soothing the eyes and easing grief. His body lay upon the bier before the altar, adorned with episcopal vestments and left uncovered, while crowds of people poured in, made their offerings, venerated the body, and departed in sorrow. On the fourth day he was committed to the earth by Rotbert, bishop of Hereford, who had long been joined to him in holy friendship. He lies between two pyramids, with a stone arch beautifully curved above them. A piece of wood projects from the upper part, with iron lattices fixed to it which they call “spiders”. I have mentioned this because it provides the material for the miracle that follows.

¹⁴ Not a few years after his death, a fire spreading from the town through negligence completely consumed the roof the church. The lead melted; the boards, while the fire raged, were turned to charcoal; beams as large as whole trees fell blazing to the ground. Whatever within the church could escape the fire was shattered and broken by the fall of so great a mass. Amid all this, the saint’s tomb was not only untouched by the fury of the flames, but was neither stained by smoke nor covered with ash. And to increase the wonder, the mat on which those praying were accustomed to kneel before the tomb was found unharmed. Even the piece of wood which, as I said, projected above it was found intact wherever it stood outside the stones, while the part enclosed by the masonry had been reduced to ashes, though the stone itself was damaged. This miracle was indeed not the first, but it became more celebrated than the others because it was public. For who could enumerate those daily miracles which people experience in their private needs, when no one who approaches the tomb in faith returns without obtaining what he seeks? They surpass the power of even the most eloquent speaker, since they can neither be counted nor fully committed to writing. Indeed, if the readiness of men in former times still prevailed, the saint would long ago have been raised on high and publicly proclaimed. But the unbelief of our own people, which adorns itself under the guise of caution, refuses to give credence to miracles even if it sees them with the eye and touches them with the finger [John 20:25]. I feared that I should be guilty of silence if I consigned to obscurity things known to me from trustworthy authorities and deprived diligent readers of knowledge of them. For why should I expect that sluggish people, who disdain the holy Gospels, will read what I write either out of love for the saint or for me?

¹⁵ Wistan was succeeded by Samson, a canon of Bayeux, a man of considerable learning and by no means contemptible eloquence. He was a man of old-fashioned habits, eating generously himself and giving lavishly to others. He did no harm to the monks, except that he took Westbury from them, where Wistan had established monks and protected them by the privilege of his holiness. Samson broke this arrangement, and not many years afterwards died in that same estate where he had committed the offence.

¹⁶ After his death, he who had received the bishopric as a gift from the younger William was succeeded in the same see, by grant of King Henry, by Thiulf, likewise a canon of Bayeux. He was not unlike his predecessor in character, and died during the reign of the same king. Both were buried in the nave of the church, before the crucifix.

¹⁷ The bishopric was then given by the king to Simon, chaplain to Queen Adelid, who had married Henry after the death of his first wife. Simon is regarded as distinguished for his affability, sweetness of character, and generosity, so far as the limited resources of the bishopric permit.

¹⁸ The diocese of Worcester contains the shires of Gloucester, Worcester, and half of Warwick. Gloucester is a city situated on the River Severn, and is thought to have been named after Claudius, who was the second of the Roman emperors after Julius Caesar to come to Britain. Indeed, in British it is called Cairclau. Seneca also mentions it in his little book on the death of Claudius: “The barbarians in Britain worshipped him as a god and built a city in his honour.” From that city the whole region is called the Vale of Gloucester. The entire land is rich in crops and fertile in fruit, in some places through the bounty of nature alone, in others through skilful cultivation; so that it would entice even anyone made weary by idleness towards the attraction of labour, where abundance will repay him with a hundredfold return. You may see the public roads clothed with fruit-bearing trees, not through the labour of a grafting hand but by the nature of the soil itself. The earth of its own accord rises up into fruit, producing it in flavour and appearance far superior to that elsewhere. Many of these fruits do not begin to wither before the year is out, so that they continue to serve their owners until their new successors arrive. The region has more vineyards than the other provinces of England, with a richer yield and a more pleasant flavour. For the wines themselves do not twist the mouths of those who drink them with harsh acidity, since in sweetness they are little inferior to French wines. There are countless estates, distinguished abbeys, and numerous villages. To the glory of all these is added the River Severn, than which none in this land has a broader channel, a more violent current, or is richer in fish through human skill. In it there occurs a daily fury of the waters, which I do not know whether to call a swallowing-up or a whirl of waves: sweeping the sand from the very bottom and gathering it into a mound, it comes on with force, but proceeds no farther than the bridge. Sometimes it even overflows its banks and, after encircling a large tract of land, returns victorious. Unfortunate is the ship if it strikes her from the side! Experienced sailors, when they see that “higra”, for so they call it in English, approaching, turn the ship towards it and, cutting through the middle of its violence, escape its force.

¹⁹ In the same valley there is a very famous town named Bristou, where there is a harbour serving as a haven for ships coming from Ireland, Norway, and other lands overseas, so that a region so fortunate in its native riches should not be deprived of commerce in foreign wealth.

Gloucester. #

¹ There is, then, in the city of Gloucester itself the monastery of Saint Peter, which, as I have said more than once, Archbishop Aldred began there. Abbot Serlo found there only a few monks, no more than three, having received a modest gift from the elder King William. But who could explain with fitting eloquence how greatly the grace of God, working together with his industry, raised that place? The prudent character of Gloucester’s religious life is well known: the weak may find nothing in it to fear, nor can the strong find anything to despise. Serlo, their standard-bearer, instilled in them the principle of “nothing in excess”; for although he was humble towards the good, he was threatening and terrible towards the proud. The canons of Saint Oswald, however, complain bitterly that Archbishop Thomas gave to the monks lands which ought to have served their own church. For in that same city, in the time of King Alfred, his daughter Elfleda and her husband Ethered had built a monastery, sparing no expense and lacking no provisions. They had transferred there from Bardney the relics of the king, because all Mercia obeyed their rule. That monastery flourished until the time of the Danes and was joined by the closest ties to our own monastery, that is, Malmesbury, as is found in the archives of both churches. But when the monks were scattered by the violence of war, and the archbishops of York had taken possession of that monastery by reason of the bishopric of Worcester, it received canons instead. Archbishop Turstan showed particular care there, both in renewing the shrine of the saint and in enlarging the church. There, when the old foundations were removed and new ones laid, the tombs of both husband wife were found in the south porch, together with bodies that still displayed their ancient dignity. Concerning the most blessed Oswald, indeed, I said more in Book One of the Deeds of the Kings, declaring that I was uncertain whether his arms were preserved at Bebbanburch, as I remembered Bede saying. Nevertheless, when I come to that place, I shall not conceal what further information about them has since come to my knowledge.

Wincelcumbe. #

¹ In the same shire is the monastery of Wincelcumbe, which Kenulf, king of the Mercians, built with immense generosity, incredible even in our own times. He caused the church to be dedicated by thirteen bishops, chief among whom was Wlfred, archbishop of Canterbury. There, amid the splendour of that dedication, in an assembly of ten ealdormen, he set free at the altar the king of the people of Canterbury, whom he had recently taken captive by right of war. There, besides the gifts received by the nobles, which were of incalculable number and value, he bestowed upon everyone who possessed no land a pound of silver, upon priests a manca of gold, upon monks one shilling, and many other gifts upon the whole people. This monastery, as all mortal things continually decline with the passage of time, was scarcely more than a name by the reign of King Edgar, but was revived to some extent by the blessed Archbishop Oswald. Germanus was made abbot there, whom Oswald had brought with him from Floriac, and he greatly assisted both the religious life and the restoration of the church. There rests Father Kenulf, together with his son Kenelm, whom his father, when he was seven years old, had left to be brought up by his sister Quendrid. But she, falsely promising herself the kingdom in her greed, entrusted her little brother to an attendant who had been his guardian, with orders that he should be removed from her path. The man led the innocent boy away as though to hunt and, having beheaded him among the thickets, concealed the body. And, wonderful to relate, the crime committed so secretly in England was made known by divine means at Rome. For a parchment, carried down from above by a dove, fell upon the altar of Saint Peter and revealed in due order both the murder and the place of burial. Because it was written in English characters, the Romans and people of other nations who were present tried in vain to read it. But providentially and at the right moment an Englishman was there, and, unfolding the meaning of the language in Latin, brought it about that a letter from the pope informed the English kings of their compatriot martyr. Accordingly, with a great gathering of people, the little boy’s body was raised and carried to Wincelcumbe. The murderous woman, stirred by the ringing chant of the clergy and the joyful acclamation of the laity, thrust her head out of the window of the upper chamber in which she was standing. They happened to be singing the Psalm, “O God of my praise” [Psalm 109:1]. Beginning at the end and reciting it backwards by some trick I do not know, she tried to disrupt the joy of those singing. Then, by divine power, the sorceress’s eyes were torn from their sockets, and with their blood they stained the verse: “This is the work of those who accuse me before the Lord, and who speak evil against my soul” [Psalm 109:20]. The marks of the blood remain to this day, bearing witness to the woman’s savagery and God’s vengeance.

Theokesberia. #

¹ There is also the monastery of Theokesberia, which in recent times Rotbert son of Haimon advanced through his patronage, and it is not easy to say how greatly he raised it up. There both the beauty of the buildings and the charity of the monks towards those who arrive captivate the eyes and attract the heart. It had originally been at Craneburna, but through the foresight of Abbot Girald, because of the convenience of the nearby river and the proximity of the lord’s estates, it seemed more suitably placed at Theokesberia. At the same time, the name itself appeared to favour the religious intention, because Theokesberia was said to mean, as it were, Theotokosberia, that is, “the court of the Mother of God”, a name compounded from Greek and English.

Malvernia. #

¹ In our own days the monastery of Malvernia has also grown in the same province, and its name seems to me to have been given by antiphrasis. For religion flourishes there not badly, but well and most beautifully, where poverty in temporal possessions draws and inspires the monks towards immortal hope.

² The province of Worcester also has the abbeys of Evesham and Perscore.

Evesham. #

¹ Blessed Bishop Eguuin founded Evesham. I have not yet been able, either by my own efforts or through others, to discover why Bede, strangely enough, said nothing about him. This is especially remarkable because he went to Rome with Kenred, king of the Mercians, and Offa, king of the East Angles, whose journey the historian did not pass over in silence. Nevertheless, whatever caused this silence, it is certain that he was the third bishop of Worcester and had a particular love for the place where the monastery can now be seen. It had previously been uncultivated and rough with thorn bushes, though it possessed a small church from ancient times, perhaps the work of the Britons. In that place, while this most holy man frequently kept vigils, drawn there by the solitude, he was privileged to be comforted by a vision of the Mother of God and by her words. Plainly and without any ambiguity, she commanded him to found a monastery for her there, which would be pleasing to her and demanding for him. He applied himself to her commands and, having completed the work, secured it with papal and royal privileges. What of this? Are we to believe what ancient tradition relates? It says that, being conscious of sins committed in his youth, he once bound his feet with fetters and threw the keys of the fetters into a river. He declared openly that only then would he feel secure concerning his sins, when the fetters were opened either by divine intervention or by those very keys. He then went to Rome and returned safely. Now, as he was sailing upon the sea by which one crosses by ship from the coast of Gaul to England, an enormous fish leapt into the stern of the vessel in which the bishop was travelling and was held there as the sailors struggled together to restrain it. When it was gutted, a key was found in its liver; when this was applied to the lock of the fetters, it released the saint and gave him great assurance. He is indeed a most renowned father and readily grants the prayers of those who petition him, provided that the faith of those who ask does not waver.

² You too shall fill part of this little page with your praise, happy boy Wistan, son of Wimund, son of Wihtlaf, king of the Mercians, and of Ethelfled, daughter of Celwlf, who was the uncle of Kenelm. You, I say, I shall not pass over in silence, whom your kinsman Berferth wickedly murdered. Let posterity know, if any should think these writings worthy of notice, that nothing in this world was more glorious than your natural goodness, provoked by which the butcher delivered you to death, and nothing before God more innocent than your purity, moved by which the inward Judge glorified you. For a shining column sent down from heaven, breaking through the coverings of the dense night, revealed the crime committed in the deep hollow and exposed the wickedness of the murderer. Therefore your venerable relics, raised with the devotion of your kindred, were placed at Rapendune, then a famous monastery. It is now an estate of the count of Chester. Since the glory of that place has faded through the passage of time, you now dwell at Evesham, as I have said, worthy to look graciously upon the prayers of those who seek your favour.

Perscora. #

¹ Egelward, earl of Dorset, founded and completed the monastery of Perscore in the time of King Edgar, by no means sparing in spirit but wholeheartedly devoted to generosity. Yet it too, like the others, has suffered lamentable losses, being reduced by more than half. The ambition of the wealthy seized one part, oblivion buried another, and Kings Eduard and William granted a rather larger portion to Westminster. Some of the bones of the blessed Edburg are kept here and are honoured with devoted reverence, because the glory of her miracles flourishes there more frequently than elsewhere.

On the Bishops of Hereford. #

¹ Beyond the Severn, almost bordering upon the Welsh, lies the city of Hereford, not a large one, though the ruins of its steeply cut ditches show that it was once a place of some importance. From the beginning its bishops were these: Putta, Tirhtel, Torhtere, Walhatod, and Cuthbert, who afterwards became archbishop of Canterbury. I have already described his exceptional diligence in ecclesiastical affairs when my account dealt with the archbishops; but these verses also, which I saw only recently, will indicate the antiquity of the man, how greatly he honoured his predecessors, and how, if anything had been begun by them for the adornment of the house of God, he completed it through his own zeal.

² “This venerable work, consecrated to the venerable cross of Christ,
The venerable bishop named Walhstod had begun
To fashion with great ornaments of silver and gold.
But because all mortal things fall at their appointed time,
He died and departed from the flesh while the work was unfinished.
But I myself, successor of the bishop named above,
Who by God’s gift discharge the office of bishop,
And who bear the certain name Cudbert from the light,
Completed what had been left unfinished, which he had begun in beautiful order.”

³ Likewise, above the tomb of his predecessors:

⁴ “Those who were once renowned and exalted throughout the world,
This marble, overshadowing them, holds the six bodies of these men,
And the present tomb, fashioned with marvellous beauty,
Encloses them above beneath its lofty summit.
I, Cudbert, successor to their sacred dignity,
Enclosed them beneath inscriptions and adorned them with tombs.
Of these, the holy mitre encircled three as bishops,
Whose names are Walhstod, Torhtere, and Tirhtil;
The fourth is the petty king Milfrith, together with his beautiful wife
Cuenburg, who was the fifth in order among the six.
The sixth besides is Osfrith, son of Oselm.”

⁵ After Cuthbert came Podda, Ecca, Cedda, Aldbert, Esne, Celmund, Utel, Wlfeard, Benna, Edulf, Cuthulf, Mucel, Deorlaf, Cinemund, Edgar, Tidbelm, Wifelm, Alfric, Athulf, Ethelstan, and Leouegar. In the time of King Eduuard, Grifin, king of the Welsh, burned the city and drove Leouegar from both his see and his life. Walter succeeded him and was consecrated at Rome by Pope Nicholas. He continued until the fifth year of King William and then, unless rumour lies, died in a disgraceful manner. There was a woman in the town whom, through some misfortune I cannot explain, he happened to see, and for a long time he burned with desire for her. She knew nothing of the bishop’s passion, and, had she known of it, would have despised it. Meanwhile the bishop, often reflecting that “nothing is more wretched than an old man in love”, struggled, out of respect for his age and rank, to drive away the sickness. He had already made good progress, and his defeated passion had begun to retreat, when, through an opportunity supplied by the devil’s deceit, he had the woman summoned into his chamber. The stated reason was that she should cut garments for his chamber servants, for she was said to be skilled in that craft. She entered and applied herself to the work for which she had come, while his attendants, who knew his secret intentions, withdrew together. Then, not to prolong the story, after the bishop had spoken obscenely and was preparing to force himself upon her, the woman stabbed him in the groin with the shears she was holding. The report of the crime and its punishment spread throughout all England reached the king’s ears as well. He, preserving the dignity of kingship by pretending not to believe it, issued a most severe decree to prevent others from spreading the story.

⁶ Not long afterwards Rotbert the Lotharingian received that see, and there built a church of rounded design, imitating the basilica at Aachen as far as his circumstances allowed. He was highly skilled in all the liberal arts, and had particularly investigated the abacus, the calculation of the lunar calendar, and the courses of the stars in the heavens. At that time there was a monk named Mariman living as a recluse at Magontia, who, during the long leisure of his solitude, had examined the chronographers and, either first or alone, noticed that the cycles of Dionysius the Little were inconsistent with the truth of the Gospels. Accordingly, reckoning each year from the beginning of the world, he added twenty-two years which were lacking from those cycles, and undertook to compose a great and very extensive chronicle. Rotbert admired that book beyond measure and emulated it remarkably, taking care that it should be brought into England. Indeed, captivated by Mariman’s ability, he condensed into a narrow compass whatever the other had treated at greater length, making so splendid an abridgement that the selection seems more valuable than the vast diffuseness of the original volume.

⁷ More than any of the other bishops of his time, he was devoted to the friendship of the most holy Wistan, whose bishopric also bordered upon his own. Very often, therefore, putting aside public business, he shared Wistan’s private company, delighted by the purity and innocence of his life. Although Wistan departed this life before him, the bond of their companionship was not long severed by his death, for Rotbert followed him almost immediately. Wistan lay ill at Worcester, already close to his blessed end. Rotbert, unwillingly occupied at court with the king’s judicial business, saw him standing before him in a vision and saying quite plainly: “If you wish to see me alive, hasten to Worcester before I die.” After seeing this, he sought leave from the king and hurried there with all speed, allowing himself no rest by day or night. For a devout fear had given him a foreboding, which the event confirmed, that he would not find Wistan still alive. The court, indeed, had been some considerable distance away. When at last, in the lodging nearest Worcester, he gave himself to sleep, he again saw Wistan saying: “You have done everything that devoted affection could require, but your desire has been frustrated, for I have already departed. Now, my dear companion, take thought for your own life and provide for your salvation, because you will not remain long after me in this world. And so that you may not think yourself deceived by an empty vision, receive this sign: tomorrow, after you have committed my body to the earth, which has now waited three days for your arrival, a gift will be given to you on my behalf, and you will recognise that it was mine.” Thus the bishop awoke, completed his journey, came to Worcester, and performed the burial rites, keeping the matter hidden from everyone. Having then taken leave of the monks, he was preparing to depart; his horse, already fitted out, was waiting for him, when the prior of the place reverently fell at his knees and offered him a gift, saying: “Accept, my lord, if it pleases you, the cloak of the man who loved you, lined inside with lambskins, which he used to wear when riding. May it both bear witness to your long friendship and, through the holiness of our lord, deserve to bring you protection.” When Rotbert heard this and recognised the gift, he turned pale, and an icy trembling ran through his bones. Immediately postponing his departure, he summoned the community of monks to the chapter house and, with tears and sighs appropriate to the occasion, told them how exactly the dream and the event had corresponded. Then, having commended himself to them all in view of his own death, he departed, glad indeed for the warning, but always anxious with holy fear. Wistan died in the middle of January, and Rotbert did not live beyond June.

⁸ When Girard, his successor, was transferred to York, a certain Roger, the king’s larderer, was ordered to be appointed in his place. But without having received any episcopal office, he died at London, where the court then was, within eight days of his election. Before he died he sent word to Archbishop Anselm—good God, what extraordinary folly!—asking him to consecrate him as bishop, and pressed this request anxiously and with the greatest insistence. The holy archbishop, without returning any answer, rebuked the man’s foolishness merely with a restrained smile.

⁹ Rainalm, the queen’s chancellor, was then immediately elected to take the dead man’s place. According to the custom which the king at that time considered lawful, he was invested by the king with the ring and pastoral staff. But when the archbishop refused to consecrate him and the others who had been invested in this way, and Rainalm realised that he had acted wrongly, he voluntarily returned the ring and staff to the king, neither asked nor ordered to do so. For this reason he lost the king’s friendship and was also ordered to keep away from court. He bore this quietly and patiently until, when a gentler breeze had cleared the king’s disposition, he was lawfully installed in his see and honourably consecrated. He remained in the bishopric with great modesty and with other virtues, especially contrition arising from the fear of God, shedding abundant tears everywhere, and above all during the celebration of Mass. He was disgraced by no reputation for wrongdoing, except that he was said to be less generous than was fitting, and less so than his means allowed.

¹⁰ After a few years he died of gout and was succeeded by Gausfred, surnamed de Cliva, who lived no more than five years, confirming what had now become a common saying among the people: that no bishop of Hereford survived for long. He too was a good man and extremely abstemious, making use without distinction of food and clothing of the cheaper sort. Devoted to agriculture, he restored and improved the lands of the bishopric, which had previously suffered greatly from burdensome taxation. Consequently, although he had sufficient grain and other provisions for sustenance, he was somewhat too tight-fisted towards the poor. He therefore deservedly exposed his reputation to criticism because, unmoved by any compassion for the needy, he left behind a great abundance of provisions to no heir.

¹¹ The bishopric was given by King Henry to Richard, a clerk of the royal seal, who survived only a few years. At last, with a good omen, God willing, Rotbert, prior of the canons of Lantoni, was elected and made bishop. He survives to this day, and posterity will judge his deeds. For the present, reputation has clearly prepared a favourable path for him, declaring him to be most devout and abstemious in food and clothing. He is certainly so well known to the apostolic court that, after the legate and the archbishop, it entrusts all its arrangements in England to him.

¹² The episcopal see is adorned by the relics of King and Martyr Eielbriht, who was born among the East Angles and ruled over them. Offa, king of the Mercians, killed him without any existing cause, supposedly in order to strengthen and advance his kingdom, wickedly plotting the deed against the man who was to marry his daughter. Immediately after Eielbriht’s death he invaded the kingdom of the East Angles and passed on the inheritance of that conquest to his successors. But Eielbriht’s innocent death is believed to have been avenged by the death of Offa not long afterwards and by the brief reign of Offa’s son. Moreover, God made his holiness known to his fellow countrymen by such evident signs that a bishopric of such dignity is consecrated in his name. He is therefore a martyr, and this is believed not on the basis of human reasoning but because of divine miracles. Nor should it seem foolish or inappropriate that our predecessors, upright and especially religious men, either accepted this in silence or confirmed it by their authority. For would blessed Dunstan, to omit the others, into whom knowledge of letters and the grace of God had poured themselves in full measure, have allowed either Kenelm, Egelbriht, or Wistan to be venerated as martyrs unless he were certain that this was pleasing among the citizens of heaven? Let mortal judgement therefore give way where God’s favour is revealed through miracles.

¹³ Within the diocese of the bishopric are two monasteries, at Scrobbesberia and Weneloch. The monastery of Scrobbesberia is entirely recent, founded by Roger, count of Monte Gomerico. There he established monks from Sagium, living on very scanty food and clothing, but who, in hope of their future reward, cheerfully count these hardships as nothing. At Weneloch there was a very ancient community of nuns; and there the most blessed Milburga, sister of Saint Mildrid and granddaughter through his son of Penda, king of the Mercians, lived out her life and was buried. But when the place had become entirely deserted, the aforementioned count filled it with Cluniac monks, among whom splendid shoots of virtue now strive upwards towards heaven. The virgin’s tomb, however, was unknown to the new arrivals, since every ancient memorial had been destroyed by the violence of enemies and the passage of time. Recently, while the construction of a new church was being begun, a certain boy was running rather quickly across the pavement when the hollow of the tomb broke open, revealing the virgin’s body. Then, as a breath of balsam-like fragrance spread through the church, the body was raised to a higher place and performed so many miracles that crowds of people poured there in great numbers. The open fields could scarcely contain the throngs, as rich and poor pressed forward shoulder to shoulder, faith driving them all onwards together. Nor did the matter prove fruitless, for no one departed from there without his illness being either cured or alleviated; and some were even freed through the merits of the virgin from the king’s evil, a disease certainly incurable by physicians.

On the Bishops of Licitfeld. #

¹ Licitfeld is a small town in the shire of Statford, far from the bustle of cities. The surrounding country is wooded, and a little stream flows nearby. The church occupied a confined site, displaying the modest means and abstinence of men of old. It is a place that would shame the bishops of our age as a residence for episcopal dignity. There, as has been said, the most holy Cedda both held his see and died. For apart from the two bishoprics of the Mercians which I have mentioned above, in the first years of Christianity the whole remaining province of the Mercians and the Lindisfari had a single bishop, each succeeding the other in turn. Their names are these: Diuma and Cellab, both from Scottia. After them came Trumhere, an Englishman by birth, Iaruman, and Cedda, whose see, as has often been said, was at Licitfeld. Archbishop Theodore appointed Winfrid, who had been his predecessor’s deacon, to succeed Cedda, and Sexwlf to succeed him. Sexwlf had two successors: Hedda at Licitfeld and Wilfrid at Legecestra. When Wilfrid was driven out by hostile force, Hedda held both dioceses, and after him Alduine. When he died, three bishops were appointed in that diocese: Witta at Licitfeld, Totta at Legecestra, and Etherd at Dorcestra. The bishops of Licitfeld after Witta were therefore these: Hemel, Cutfrid, Berhtun, Higbert, Aldulf, who received the pallium in the time of King Offa, Herewin, Herkenuald, Hunbert, Cinebert, Tunfrith, Elle, in the time of King Ethelstan, Elgar, Kinsi, Winsi, Elfeh, Goduine, Lefgar, Brihtmar, Wlsi, Leouuine, and Petrus. In the time of the elder King William, Petrus abandoned Licitfeld and moved to Cestra, which is twenty-five miles from that place. Cestra is called the City of the Legions because veterans of Julius’s legions settled there. It borders upon the northern Britons. The region, like most of the North, is barren and poor in grain, especially wheat, but rich in livestock and fish. The inhabitants regard milk and butter as delicacies; the wealthier live on meat, and they prize barley bread and rye bread highly. Ships sail from Cestra to Ireland, and the necessities of life are brought back to the city, so that the labour of merchants supplies what the nature of the soil provides less abundantly. From ancient times there was a monastery of nuns in the city, now filled with monks by Hugh, count of Cestra. There the virgin Werburga is renowned, daughter of Wlferius, king of the Mercians, and Ermenhild, daughter of Sexburga, who was herself daughter of Anna, king of the East Angles, and wife of Erkombert, king of the people of Canterbury. Werburga, having professed celibacy, shone with good virtues in that city over a long course of years. I shall relate one miracle of hers which, through its fame among the inhabitants, has earned lasting renown and remembrance. She had an estate outside the walls whose crops were being eaten by wild geese. The steward whose duty it was tried with every effort to drive them away, but achieved little. While attending upon his mistress, therefore, he mentioned this complaint among the other matters of the day. “Go,” she said, “and shut them all inside a building.” Astonished by the strangeness of the command, the countryman thought his mistress was joking. But when she repeated the order more firmly and seriously, he returned to the crops and, as soon as he saw the troublesome marauders, loudly commanded them in his mistress’s name to follow him. Then they all gathered into a flock, lowered their necks, followed their enemy, and were shut inside the building. The rustic took it upon himself to have one of them for supper, since he feared no accuser. At dawn the virgin came and, rebuking the birds for plundering what belonged to others, ordered them to take flight. Nor were the birds without understanding that their number was incomplete: they went round and round at their mistress’s feet and refused to go anywhere, raising such a complaint as they could in order to stir the virgin’s compassion. She, understanding through God’s revelation that so great a complaint from the birds was not without cause, questioned the steward carefully and discovered theft. She ordered the bones to be gathered together and brought to her. At once, as the sign made by the virgin’s hand brought healing, skin and flesh were drawn over the bones, and the skin began to grow feathers, until the bird, restored to life, first sprang up briskly and then took wing into the air. The others followed without delay, their number now complete, but only after first paying due reverence to the woman who had set them free. Thus at Cestra the merits of this virgin are proclaimed and her miracles extolled. Although she readily favours the petitions of all, she brings the aid of her intercession especially near at hand to the prayers of women and children.

² In the same city, as I have said, Bishop Petrus established his see in the church of Saint Peter, installing a small number of canons there. But his successor Rotbert moved the see once again, this time to Coventreia. There was in the diocese of Cestra monastery built by the most magnificent Count Lefric and his wife Godifa, with such a display of gold and silver that the very walls of the churches seemed too narrow to contain its treasures, while the sight was a marvel to the eyes of visitors. Coveting these riches, Rotbert took from the church’s own treasures the means by which he might evade the king’s demands and insinuate himself into the favour of the greedy Romans. From a single beam which supported the shrines he scraped together five hundred marks of silver. Although he remained there for many years, he showed the place no goodness. He never rescued roofs that threatened to collapse from their danger, and by squandering the sacred wealth he incurred the guilt of embezzlement; the bishop would have been liable to prosecution for extortion if an accuser had been ready. Feeding the monks on a miserable allowance, he neither took care to kindle in them a love of the regular life nor allowed them to aspire beyond ordinary learning, lest either an abundance of food should make them self-indulgent or the strictness of the Rule and the vigour of learning should make them arrogant towards him. Content, therefore, with rustic fare and elementary learning, they considered it enough if only they could live in peace. Indeed, when he was dying, he ordered that he should be buried not at Cestra but at Coventreia, thereby, in his own judgement, leaving his successors not an unjustified right to make a claim, but something they might assert as though it were lawful.

³ He was succeeded by another Rotbert, surnamed Peccatum, who was appointed to the bishopric from the chapel of King Henry. He lived only a few years and was buried there, having diligently followed in his predecessor’s footsteps for as long as he lived. The bishop there now is Roger, appointed by the same king, nephew of a certain Gausfrid de Clintune, once a man of great renown in England.

⁴ At Coventreia there is an arm of the great Saint Augustine, enclosed in a silver reliquary, and on its engraved work these words may be seen: “This arm of Saint Augustine was bought at Papia by Archbishop Egelnod, returning from Rome, for one hundred talents of silver and one talent of gold.” Bishop Rotbert therefore lies there, though he was not disreputable in every respect. For he was pleasant and generous, and he began great building works at Licitfeld. In the two porches at Coventreia lie the most distinguished husband wife who founded the place, of whom the woman in particular is highly celebrated. During her lifetime she had gathered all her treasures there, and when she was close to death she ordered that a circlet of precious stones, which she had sewn onto a cord so that by touching each stone in turn she might begin a separate prayer and not lose count, should be hung around the neck of an image of Saint Mary. And how precious do you suppose those stones were? Those skilled in such matters value them at one hundred marks of silver.

⁵ Legrecestra is an ancient city in the Midlands of England, so called from the River Legra which flows past it. I shall give only the names of its bishops, because nothing else concerning them has come down to us. They were Totta, Edberht, Unwona, Werenberht, Rethun, Aldred, Celred, and Leuuin. In the time of King Edgar, Leuuin united the bishopric of the Lindisfari, which is now called the bishopric of Lincoln, with that of Legrecestra.

On the Bishops of Dorcestre. #

¹ Dorcecestra is a small and sparsely populated town in the shire of Oxeneford. Yet its churches possess great splendour, whether from ancient workmanship or from more recent diligence. There, after Edhed, the bishops were these: Epelpine, Edgar, Kineberht, Alpih, Aldulf, Celuulf, Edulf, Brihtred, and Leouuine. This is the man who united the two bishoprics. Then came Elfnod, Escpi, Elfelm, Ednod, Eperic, Ednod, Wluui, and Remigius, formerly a monk of Fiscamnus, who gave William, count of the Normans, much assistance when he came to England, having bargained for a bishopric if William should be victorious. William was no slower in giving than Remigius was in receiving. Consequently, when Pope Alexander, as I have already said, convicted and condemned him, he nevertheless restored him to his dignity at the request of Archbishop Lanfranc. During his first years Remigius planned notable works at Dorcestra and began to carry some of them out, but eventually transferred all his attention and his see to the city of Lindocolina, one of the most populous in England a trading centre for people arriving by land sea. There Remigius filled the church, founded in honour of Our Lady, with many canons, who themselves were distinguished by their learning and by the abundance of wealth which he had acquired for them. He built anew a monastery of monks at Saint Mary of Stou, and through his patronage restored another ancient one at Bardenei. This was all the more pleasing because, owing to the smallness of his body, he seemed almost a human prodigy. His spirit struggled to excel and make itself conspicuous outwardly, and “virtue coming from a little body was the more pleasing.” Nature might have been thought to have fashioned him in this way so that it might be known that the most blessed character could dwell within the most wretched body. Having therefore lived his life successfully, while preparations were actually under way for the consecration of his church at Lindocolina, death, jealous of such great rejoicing, took him away on the day before the intended dedication. For at the urging of this high-spirited man, a royal command had summoned all the bishops from every quarter. Rotbert of Hereford alone had refused to come, having seen from a sure examination of the stars that the dedication would not take place during Remigius’s lifetime, and he had not kept this prediction to himself. The ceremony having thus been postponed, his successor completed it without great difficulty, since, as a man of ease, he had entered into another man’s labours. His name was Rotbert Bloet. He lived as bishop for a little under thirty years and died far from his see at Wdestoche, while riding beside the king with another bishop, when sudden death overtook him. In other respects he was cheerful enough with his own people and not particularly severe. In knowledge of secular affairs he was second to none, though this was not equally true of ecclesiastical matters. He adorned the church over which he presided with extremely precious ornaments. After his death his body was disembowelled so that foul smells would not corrupt the air. His entrails were buried at Egnesham and the rest of him at Lindocolina. For during his lifetime he had moved the monks who had been at Stou to Eglesham. It is well known that the monks of Egnesham are devoted to Our Lady and beloved by her. Indeed, in the past year, when a certain young monk among them lay ill, he saw her coming to his aid and driving away the crowds of demons that had assembled. Pointing them out with his finger to those present, he asked that they be driven away by sprinkling with blessed water. When they were driven from one side, they immediately appeared elsewhere. But when the mighty Empress arrived, they all vanished. Then the sick man, as though entirely well, began in a melodious voice the responsory: “Rejoice, Virgin Mary.” When he had reached the middle, he faltered through the force of his illness, or rather through a failure of memory; but when a monk standing nearby prompted him, he recovered the words, and with the final word he breathed his last. Having therefore given this brief account of this monastery on the present occasion, we shall now range with our pen through the others situated in the diocese of Lindocolina.

Oxeneford. #

¹ In ancient times there was a monastery of nuns in the city of Oxeneford, in which rests the most holy virgin Frisewida. A king’s daughter, she despised the marriage-bed of a king and professed her virginity to the Lord Christ. But when he had set his heart upon marrying the virgin, and had exhausted prayers and flatteries in vain, he resolved to use force. When Frideswida learned of this, she decided to flee into the woods. Yet her hiding-place could not remain hidden from her lover, nor was his heart so sluggish that he failed to pursue the fugitive. When the virgin therefore learned once more of the young man’s fury, she entered Oxeneford by hidden paths in the dead of night, with God as her companion. When her eager lover hurried there in the morning, the girl, now despairing of further flight and at the same time unable through exhaustion to go anywhere else, prayed for God’s protection for herself and punishment for her persecutor. He and his companions were already approaching the gates of the city when a heavenly stroke fell upon him and he was struck blind. Realising the sin of his obstinacy, and having entreated Frideswida through messengers, he recovered his sight as quickly as he had lost it. From this arose among the kings of England a customary fear of entering or lodging in that city, because it was said to be deadly to them, each shrinking from testing the truth of the matter at the cost of his own peril. There, therefore, the woman, victorious in the triumph of virginity, established a monastery, and when in due course her bridegroom called her, she met her death. In the time of King Egelred, however, when the Danes, who had been condemned to death, took refuge in that monastery, they were consumed by flames together with the buildings through the insatiable fury of the English. But soon afterwards, through the king’s repentance, the sanctuary was purified, the monastery restored, its former lands returned, and new possessions added. In our own time, when only a very few clerics remained there, living as they pleased, Roger, bishop of Salesberia, gave that place to Guimund, a canon of excellent learning and by no means contemptible religious character. Applying himself diligently to the duty entrusted to him, he presented to God many canons who would live there according to the Rule.

Saint Alban’s. #

¹ The shire of Bedeford contains the abbey of Saint Alban. He was no hireling or worthless martyr, and has as the foremost witnesses and proclaimers of his martyrdom Bede and Fortunatus. If I wished to add anything to their abundance, it would be as though I wanted to pour water into the sea. His most sacred body, which had long lain in the dust of the earth, was raised into the light by King Offa, who placed it in a shrine and honoured it with a basilica of most beautiful workmanship and with a numerous community of monks. Nor is there any doubt that, while staying at Bathonia, he was warned in a dream; and that, when he was making his way there and had drawn near, he was encouraged by the sign of a light like a huge torch descending upon the place of the tomb both by night and by day. That monastery was never wholly exposed to ruin, but in our own age, through Abbot Paul and with the support of Archbishop Lanfranc, it rose to the highest distinction in religious life.

Burk. #

¹ In Huntendun are Burch, Ramesia, and Croland. Burch was formerly called Medehamstede; but after Abbot Kenulf surrounded the place with a wall, it was called Burch from its resemblance to a town. Here the most blessed Athelwold built the monastery with such lavish expenditure and so greatly enlarged its possessions that almost the entire surrounding region is subject to it. There they honour and cherish the relics of the bodies of the distinguished virgins Kinedrida and Kineswida, daughters of King Penda. Both were dedicated to God from infancy and maintained their noble purpose into old age. But the younger, not content with securing her own salvation alone, also consecrated her betrothed Offa to celibacy. He was king of the East Angles for a few years. A young man of pleasing appearance and character, in the flower of his age and greatly loved by his people, he was taught by the counsel of Kineswida, whose marriage he had hoped for, to change his love for something better. He went to Rome with Kenred, king of the Mercians, and Eguin, bishop of the Wiccians, where, having received the tonsure as a monk, he said farewell to earthly things while still in the prime of life. As they proclaim, the fellowship of these virgins is adorned by Saint King Oswald, whose arm they say is kept there intact in sinews, skin, and flesh, having been secretly brought from its ancient resting-place. A great shrine, the receptacle of that treasure, is displayed for viewing; but confidence in what is said wavers when the hearer can verify nothing by sight. I say this not because I doubt the incorruption of the saint, but because I do not wish rashly to assert that it is preserved in that place.

Ramesei. #

¹ Saint Oswald, archbishop of York, was the founder of the abbey of Ramesei, with the assistance of a certain Egelwin, earl of the East Angles. Both are worthy of praise for their commendable generosity, but especially the layman, who, merely because he had once seen the bishop conducting the funeral rites of a certain prince and shedding sincere tears with his gaze gently fixed upon the ground, was so captivated by his religious devotion that he readily placed everything he possessed at his disposal. Thus, moved by favour towards the saint, he built that monastery with the greatest wealth in a certain marshy wetland. Felix, the first bishop of the East Angles, lies there, having been brought from Seham at the earl’s command; and there also lie the two brothers Egelred and Egelbriht, whom Egberht, king of the people of Canterbury, fearing that the sons of his paternal uncle might grow to manhood with hopes of the kingdom, kept around him for some time but eventually removed from the company of his court, begrudging them even his sight. To the king’s wickedness was added a deadly servant named Thunre, a name which means “thunder”, who deceived them with daily kisses and, while actually embracing them, stabbed them with a dagger. After killing them, he cast them into a deep pit, said to have been beneath the king’s own seat, so that no one would think of searching there for the royal boys; for who would have looked for them in such a place? But that divine eye, from which the secrets of hearts are not hidden, brought the innocent boys into the light, granting many cures there and, moreover, afflicting the king with a terrifying miracle, so that fire rose up against him as he sat above them. The neighbouring people, therefore, were stirred to action and, digging away the rough turf that had been hastily thrown over the bodies, built a church in honour of their martyrdom. The king himself, repenting of the slaughter, granted to the boys’ sister a very large part of the Isle of Tanat for the building of a monastery, as an atonement for both the murderer and the murdered. When Thunre, with his customary insolence, tried to twist this arrangement to an evil purpose, the earth suddenly opened and swallowed him, and living and conscious he entered hell. The place where the saints were buried was in East Anglia, though its name has escaped me. For this reason Egeluin, earl of the province, raised them from their obscure church and brought them with solemn ceremony to Ramesei. Yet one who lies there, Ivo the Persian bishop, now surpasses both Felix and these brothers in miracles and signs. Long ago, growing weary of the luxuries which his very wealthy bishopric provided him, he secretly abandoned everything to his people and set out upon an extremely long pilgrimage, accompanied by only three companions. After travelling for many years, and deceiving those who saw him by his ragged clothing into believing that he was a peasant, he eventually sailed to England. Greatly delighted by the strangeness of an unfamiliar language, because everyone laughed at him as though he were a fool, he settled in a muddy district and there lived out the remainder of his life. His companions followed him in the order God had foreseen. The people of the province knew neither the place of the saint’s burial nor his name. Many long periods of time passed, and the heavenly pearl lay hidden in the darkness of oblivion. Blessed Oswald had already left this world, and Egelpin had already reached his end. But when it pleased Him who disposes the times and orders all things by measure, number, and weight [Wisdom 11:20], Saint Ivo appeared in a vision to a man of innocent simplicity and revealed to him in due order his name, his rank, and the place of his burial. He was therefore to go and explain the whole vision to the abbot of Ramesei, adding that, once Ivo himself had been carried to Ramesei, his companions were to be left where they were. His body was not to be placed in a shrine, but in a place adjoining the altar and accessible to those who came to seek him. The vision proved sufficient to win the belief of the abbot of Ramesei. Just as he had been slow to believe, once convinced he was swift and prompt in carrying out what had been commanded. They therefore went to the place, sought the tomb, found it, and opened it. Immediately, when the saint’s body was laid out upon a linen cloth, water bursting with countless bubbles sprang from the winding recesses of the tomb itself. A spring flows there to this day, sweet to drink and beneficial for every illness. The multitude of those healed through this blessed man cannot be estimated in number, much less contained in writing, so that there is no saint in England more easily moved by prayer than Ivo or more effective in granting what is sought. I myself saw what I am about to relate. A certain monk was suffering from dropsy. His swollen skin had already risen greatly, and his foul breath drove those standing nearby away from him. He seemed capable of drinking whole rivers dry and emptying full barrels. Warned in a dream, he went to Saint Ivo, and there, after drinking the water three times, he vomited out a flood of excess fluid through his mouth. His belly subsided, his legs became thin again, and, to say no more, the whole man returned to flourishing health. Afterwards he even boasted that, thanks to so wholesome a vomit, he was at last able to drink until satisfied.

² Croland is one of the islands lying in that region of the eastern marshes, which, rising from the interior of the land flowing for more than a hundred miles, rush down into the sea with many great rivers. Here Gudlac, a young man of no humble birth, despising the practice of arms in which he excelled, entered the solitary life when he was twenty-five years old and lived in it for fifteen years. During these years, with the grace of God assisting him, he was approved both by the rank of priesthood and by the distinction of miracles and the truth of his prophecies. But the glory of his virtues shone still more brightly after his death, both through the incorruption of his most sacred body after a year and through the remarkable manifestation of many miracles. It is also attributed to his merits that, although a monastery was built around his body, amid so many upheavals of war and so many changes of fortune, that place has suffered no hardship or loss. There came also a new guest, though an ancient patron before God, Saint Neot, who, once a disciple of the most blessed Erkenwold, had always been held in the greatest veneration at Einulfesbiri. But when he was removed from there because of the incursions of the Danes and brought to Croland, he now joins shield with Gudlac in protecting the inhabitants, while also readily granting the prayers of strangers. For although the place cannot be approached from anywhere except by water, there is nevertheless before the gate of the monastery what I might call a public highway for those sailing past. Consequently, there are scarcely ever no guests there, travelling to and fro. Our own times have also found someone whom they might honour as a martyr, because report declares that he was innocently slain; would that this report did not differ from the truth. This is Waldef, an earl of distinguished ancestry, son of Siward, the most magnificent earl of the Nordhumbrians. He was arrested by the elder King William on suspicion of a conspiracy made against him, and after being held in chains for a long time was finally beheaded and buried at Croland. In the Deeds of the Kings I set down the accusations made against him by the Normans. Here I shall not conceal what the English say to the contrary, since the English have much the stronger claim to truth. They say that the earl, caught by circumstances at a banquet, was drawn into the conspiracy only by the movement of his lips and not by his will, and that he took an oath of disloyalty. They say that this was clearly shown by the fact that he voluntarily confessed it both to Archbishop Lanfranc and to the king himself, and did penance for the consent which he had only pretended for the moment. Divine power seems to support the testimony of the English, displaying many miracles, and very great ones, at his tomb. For they say that, after being cast into chains, he washed away by daily sobbing whatever he had wrongly committed. The prior of the place told me that, moved by these miracles, he had handled the noble body and found it free from every blemish; he had seen the head joined again to the rest of the body, with only a red line showing the mark of the killing. For this reason, he said that he did not hesitate to call him a saint in all his speech, and that in his name he granted prayers and the benefits of the place to those who sought them.

On the Bishopric of Heli. #

¹ It remains for us to survey the bishopric of Heli; and when that has been completed, our labour will here take its rest from so many wanderings. Heli is the largest of the islands among the marshes, and is so called from the abundance of eels, as Bede, agreeing with common knowledge, attests. Indeed, there is such an abundance both of eels and of almost every kind of river fish that it is a wonder to visitors, while the inhabitants make sport of their amazement. Waterfowl are no less cheap, so that for a single penny five people or more can, from either kind of food, not merely drive away hunger but eat their fill. There the most blessed Lady Etheldrida first established a monastery of the handmaids of God. After her, her sister Sexburga, wife of Ercombert, king of the people of Canterbury, and mother of the most holy virgin Ercongota, grew old in the same place in the religious life and under the title of abbess. She was succeeded in its government by her other daughter Ermenhilda, who had been the wife of Wlferius, king of the Mercians, and the mother of the virgin Werburga, concerning whom the preceding account briefly touched upon the truth. These three were abbesses in uninterrupted succession, and at successive times they had many imitators both in government and in religious life, down to the time of the Danes, who broke into the marshes themselves, drove out the inhabitants, and demolished their dwellings. One of them, whose savage heart drove him to frenzy, seized the precious cloth with which the tomb of the virgin Etheldrida was covered and struck the marble of the tomb with a battle-axe. When the surface of the marble was shattered by the blow, a fragment, rebounding violently from the ground, flew into the assailant’s eye, and he himself fell senseless to the ground. The others, vying with one another to flee after casting him aside, left untouched the tombs of the other saints which they had intended to desecrate. But the desolation of that most sacred place did not last long, through the efforts both of the king of England of the people of the province. Clerics were therefore installed there for a time to maintain the divine services. One of them, more presumptuous than the others and, I think, not acting from a sincere motive, tried to stir up his companions to investigate more certainly whether the virgin’s body was incorrupt. When they pointed out the danger of the undertaking, he approached by himself. First, inserting through the hole made by the Dane’s blow a candle fixed to the end of a rod, and following it with his eyes as far as curiosity allowed, he tried to examine everything. Then, splitting the end of the rod, he attempted to draw towards himself the cloths in which the sacred body was wrapped. He had already pulled out part of them when the virgin, indignant that her naked body should be seen by a scoundrel, violently drew the cloth back inside, with such force that she threw him flat on his back as he struggled against it. Permanently disabled by that fall, he afterwards also suffered from madness. Later the holy Bishop Athelwold sealed that opening with mortar and stone, expelled the clerics, and introduced monks. He also bestowed upon the place great estates, so extensive as to cause amazement, all purchased from his own resources. Judge the extent of its ancient possessions from this: although many have been taken away and many usurped, the man who now governs the property counts into his own purse fourteen hundred pounds each year. He has allotted scarcely three hundred to the monks, apart from what he spends on the needs of his servants and guests.

² Brihnod, who had been appointed abbot there by Edelwold, transferred to the monastery the body of Witburga, sister of Saint Etheldrida. Until that time she had lain in an obscure rural place, where she herself had spent many years living in celibacy and abstaining from rich food. A tame hind, accustomed to her hand, supplied her daily drink from its udders. When a certain man, whether from malice or by chance, struck the animal with a javelin and killed it, he was not long afterwards seized by the king’s evil and wasted away. Brihnod therefore placed her incorrupt body aboard a ship and carried it away. When the people of the place learned what had happened and rushed to arms, he would certainly have paid the penalty had he not hastened to drive the vessel out into the waves. For at that time the island could be reached only by boat. But our more ingenious age has overcome nature: by throwing causeways across the marsh it has provided a route over land made the island accessible on foot. As the sailors were endangered amid the surging waves, because in their fear of pursuit they had committed themselves to an unfamiliar marsh, a pillar of fire stretching from heaven to the ship guided it on a straight course to the shore. As for the incorruption of Witburga, when some people came to doubt it, the question was settled in the time of Abbot Richard, when the bodies of the saints were being translated. No one, because of their long-established reverence, presumed to touch the blessed Etheldrida; but Witburga herself they uncovered completely as far as below the breasts. She was seen to be intact throughout her body, more like one asleep than dead. A silk cushion lay beneath her head, while her veil and all her garments retained the brightness of their original freshness. Her face was serene and pleasantly suffused with a rosy colour, her teeth white, her lips slightly parted, and her breasts very small.

³ This monastery therefore had abbots until the ninth year of King Henry. Then, because the diocese of the bishopric of Lindocolina extended too far, it was decided that a bishop should be established at Heli and should have the shire of Grantebrigge. And so that the bishop of Lindocolina should not complain that his revenues had been reduced, royal generosity, at another’s expense, gave him the Helian estate called Spallinges, to make good the bishop’s loss and silence his complaint. A certain Herveus was therefore enthroned there. He had previously been bishop of Barcona, but had abandoned that see in the hope of greater wealth, alleging that he and the neighbouring Welsh could not live together in harmony. Barcor is indeed in Wales itself, once a famous monastery and filled with so many inhabitants that, as Bede relates, if it were divided into seven parts, each portion would contain no fewer than three hundred men. Even now there remain there so many half-ruined walls of churches and such masses of ruins as are scarcely to be found anywhere else.

⁴ Within the diocese of that bishop of Heli is the monastery of Thorneia. Thorneia comes later in my account and is more confined in extent, but takes first place in praise. It is an image of paradise, whose pleasantness seems already to represent heaven itself. In the midst of the marshes it abounds in trees, which in their smooth height strive towards the stars. The level expanse, green with the tresses of its grasses, draws the eyes, and no obstacle confronts anyone running across the open ground. Not even the smallest portion of land there lies unused. Here the earth rises into fruit-bearing trees; there the field is clothed with vines, which either creep along the ground or rise aloft upon supporting stakes. Nature and cultivation compete with one another, so that whatever the one forgets to produce, the other supplies. What shall be said of the beauty of the buildings, which the ground—wonderfully firm amid those marshes—supports upon foundations that do not shift? A vast solitude is given to the monks for quiet, so that they may cling the more closely to heavenly things the more sparingly they see mortals. If a woman is seen there, she is regarded as a marvel; male visitors are welcomed as though they were angels. Yet no one remains there except briefly; even the monks’ servants are absent on feast days. I may truly say that the island is a lodging-place of chastity, a fellowship of honour, and a school for philosophers of divine things. It is called Thorneia because of the density of its thorn-bushes. But Athelwold ordered the brambles to be uprooted and the thorns cut away, having intended from the very beginning of his episcopate to abandon everything of the world and practise the eremitical life there. As best he could, he tasted in advance the first fruits of his future rest, spending forty days alone with God in a very remote church which he himself had built. For this reason he did not heap up there as much land as elsewhere, but only enough for himself and twelve monks. Indeed, whatever he bestowed upon the place he made permanently free from every public obligation, by a royal decree confirmed with the assent of all the bishops and nobles. He also brought there so many bodies of saints who had once lived in that wilderness, as well as of others from throughout England, that almost every corner of the church is full of them. I deliberately refrain from writing their names because they have a somewhat barbarous sound. Not that I either disbelieve or deny that they are saints—for what authority have I to call into question what holy antiquity has consecrated?—but because, as I have said, their names sound uncouth and rough, and I do not wish to expose the saints to the mockery of foolish men, of whom our age produces many. Especially since even the inhabitants do not read their lives, and it would seem frivolous to proclaim the merits of men for whom you can find no miracles. Preserving, therefore, due reverence for them all and disturbing no peace, I shall venture to make known Benedict alone, who was Bede’s foster-father and abbot. He adorned both banks of the River Uuir, which among the Northumbrians is by no means without fame, with monasteries dedicated to the apostles Peter and Paul, united without disagreement in charity and observance of the Rule. Anyone who reads the book which Bede himself composed on his life and those of his other abbots will marvel at his industry: his industry in bringing over an abundance of books, and in being the first of all to bring into England craftsmen skilled in stone buildings and glazed windows, spending almost his whole life travelling for such purposes. For love of his homeland delight in beauty made the harsh labours seem light to him, through his desire to bring home to his countrymen something unfamiliar. Before Benedict, stone-built structures were very rarely seen in England, nor did the ray of the sun cast its light through the transparency of glass. His patience too was remarkable: when Adrian came to take possession of the monastery of Saint Augustine at Canterbury, Benedict willingly yielded it to him, neither fearing the displeasure of Archbishop Theodore nor failing to respect his authority as a teacher. For Benedict had been appointed abbot of that monastery by King Egbert. But, as I have said, he yielded out of reverence for Theodore, whom Pope Vitalian had instructed to keep Adrian close beside him, so that Adrian might watch lest Theodore introduce anything into the Church according to Greek custom. Again, while Benedict was travelling through foreign lands and was absent for a long time, his monks at Uuir introduced another abbot without consulting him; yet he endured this calmly, indeed magnanimously, and when he returned home he shared with that man equal honour in their seating and, moreover, full participation in authority. Indeed, when he was struck by paralysis so severely that none of his limbs could bend, he appointed a third abbot, because the other whom we have mentioned was wasting away from the same illness no less severely than he was. And when Benedict’s sickness increased and began to assail his vital powers, he summoned his companion and said farewell to him with a mere nod. But the other was scarcely more capable of returning the gesture, since he himself was drawing even nearer to death. Indeed, he died before Benedict. Athelwold therefore brought Benedict’s body to Thorneia, having purchased it at great cost, and introduced among the more obscure saints a radiant light.

Book Four Ends. #