Prologue to Book Three. #

¹ York holds the second rank after Canterbury. It is a large city and a metropolis, bearing evidence of Roman refinement. Built on both sides of the River Ouse, it embraces within its central bend ships arriving from Germany and Ireland. Always the first to be exposed to the fury of northern peoples, throughout the whole period when the English held sway it endured and groaned beneath the barbarous assaults of the Danes. For this reason, after being battered by many disasters, it finally fell in the last calamity under King William. He was enraged with the citizens because they had given refuge and assistance to the Danes when they arrived, and he destroyed the city first by starvation and then by fire. He also ordered the villages and fields of the whole region to be laid waste, and its fruits and crops to be ruined by fire or water. Thus the sinews of a province once fertile were cut by plunder, fire and bloodshed. For sixty miles and more in every direction the land lies uncultivated, stripped bare of everything to this very day. If a stranger now sees cities once splendid, towers threatening the sky with their height, and fields rich in pasture and watered by rivers, he groans; if an old inhabitant sees them, he does not recognise them. Yet among some ruins of walls that remain half-demolished, one may see the wonderful works of the Romans. Thus in the city of Lugubalia there is a dining hall vaulted with stone arches, which no violence of the weather has ever been able to weaken, nor even timber deliberately piled against it and set alight. The region is called Cumberland, and the people are called Cumbrians. An inscription may be read on the front of the dining hall: “Marius’s Victory.” I am uncertain what this means, unless perhaps some part of the Cimbri once settled in these places after they had been driven from Italy by Marius. Indeed, the whole speech of the Northumbrians, and especially at York, grates so uncouthly that we southerners can understand nothing of it. This has come about because of their proximity to barbarous peoples and because of their distance from the kings, formerly English and now Norman, who are known to have resided more often in the south than in the north. The king himself, though content in these parts with his household troop of soldiers, whenever he visits those parts of the kingdom travels only with a large escort of auxiliaries. Albinus had once foreseen that this disaster would befall the region from a portent that occurred at York; he had foreseen it, I say, and announced it in these words in a letter to King Eielred: “What does the rain of blood signify, which during Lent in the city of York, which is the head of the whole kingdom, we saw in the church of the blessed prince of the apostles, falling threateningly from the northern parts of the building, from the top of the roof, while the sky was clear? May it not be thought that blood is coming from the northern regions upon the people?” Albinus in his own day conjectured that these things were to come, and posterity clearly recognised that they had indeed come, either through the violence of the northerners or because of the fault of the northerners. For in the time of the English the Danes devastated the province, and the Normans, enraged because of the coming of the Danes, destroyed what remained. I shall therefore relate in this book, which is the third of the Deeds of the Bishops, whatever knowledge concerning the bishops of York has come to me, whether through the accounts of our forebears or through the examination of books. Of these, as it seems to me, the foremost was Wilfrid the First, undeservedly tossed about by so many dangers for almost his entire life. I think it useful to include his life and all his deeds in this abridgement, because they are not so well known, and much of them is absent from the histories of Bede. Although, therefore, an immense task opens before me as I consider these matters, I shall nevertheless try, as far as I am able, to treat them briefly, always bearing in mind this justification for my boldness: that anyone who cannot read all the lives of the saints may find the more useful parts selected here. And so, omitting the winding paths of lengthy narratives, I shall follow the truth, and I shall compress into an abridgement what Stephen the priest wrote about Wilfrid in a great flood of words. Here ends the Prologue to Book Three. Here begins the Third Book of William, On the Deeds of the Bishops of the English.

Book Three. #

¹ Paulinus was the first archbishop of York, and received the pallium from Pope Honorius, as is well known. After he had been driven out, the Scots Aidan, Finan and Colman chose not to be exalted either by the pallium or by the dignity of the city, but remained in seclusion on the island of Lindisfarne. When Colman had been convicted by Wilfrid of error concerning Easter, Wilfrid himself was elected to the bishopric of York and was sent to Gaul by King Alfrid, son of King Oswiu, to be consecrated. While he delayed overseas, King Oswiu was swayed by the counsels of the Quartodecimans, who were so called because they celebrated Easter with the Jews on the fourteenth day of the moon, and intruded Cedda, a most holy man, though contrary to the rules, into the episcopal seat of York. But this injustice was corrected when Theodore, archbishop of Canterbury, was sent from the Apostolic See; Cedda was expelled and Wilfrid enthroned. Wilfrid, then, to return to the earlier point, was born among the Northumbrians of parents who were not of the lowest rank, and whatever favour he lacked by birth he made up for by nobility of character. While his mother was bringing him forth into the light, the servants standing outside saw, as they thought, the house in which the child was being born blazing with fire on every side, so that the flames were already sending long tresses high into the air. As they shouted and threw water to extinguish the fire, the maidservants, roused by their cries, ran outside. When they ordered them not to disturb their mistress in labour, they wondered that what the men loudly claimed to have seen had not appeared to their own eyes. For the harmless fire had already vanished, and the servants had no means of excusing their embarrassment, since the house stood unharmed. It was therefore understood that the boy would possess a fiery vigour, at whose birth so great a blaze had been kindled. He passed through childhood without learning; but when his advancing age had added four years to ten, he grew disgusted with the arrogance of his stepmother, for his own mother had died, and left his father’s house. Through the efforts of courtiers whom he had served obediently in his father’s household, he was brought to the notice of Queen Eanfled. After she had drawn out the young man’s private intentions by frequent questioning, and learned that he intended to serve God rather than the world, she entrusted him to a certain Cudda, who had left the life of a nobleman and royal chamberlain and was pursuing the religious life at Lindisfarne. After keeping him kindly with him for several years, Cudda sent him back to the queen, knowing the Psalms and some ecclesiastical material by heart, but now seized by a desire for greater advancement through travelling to Rome. The queen welcomed the young man’s desire, which was beyond his years, and sent him, with instructions that particular care should be taken of him, to Ercomberht, king of the Kentish people, who was the son of her paternal uncle. Thus Wilfrid came to Kent and skilfully learned the Roman customs, which surpassed the knowledge of the Scots. In particular, the Psalter which he had received from the Scots according to the translation of blessed Jerome he read and committed to memory according to Roman usage and the fifth edition. After a year the king placed him in the company of the diligent young Benedict, who later became abbot of Wearmouth, and he hastened on his journey to Rome. Reaching Lyons, by the beauty of his appearance and the orderliness of his conduct he won the affection of Dalfinus, archbishop of the city. When the archbishop tried to keep him there either by conferring clerical office upon him or by arranging his marriage to his niece, he succeeded in neither: Wilfrid declined the marriage because of his desire for celibacy and postponed taking clerical office until he should return from Rome. And so, supported by the archbishop’s advice and assisted from his purse, he resumed the journey he had begun and soon caught up with his companion, who, angered by his delay, had gone on ahead. He therefore came to Rome and successfully obtained everything he had desired, with the aid of blessed Andrew, before whose glorious relics he had poured out his prayers for assistance and for skill in learning. Having therefore gained the personal acquaintance of the most blessed Boniface, then archdeacon, through him he earned the favour of the pontiff of the supreme see. Enjoying their company, and having been instructed in the method of calculating the Easter cycle, after remaining a considerable time in the city he returned to Lyons to Archbishop Dalfinus. When Dalfinus received him with no less generous kindness, they entered into this agreement: the stranger was adopted as his son and made a cleric, while the archbishop was chosen as his father; and by his benevolent attentiveness he had erased from Wilfrid’s mind every thought of returning to his native land. But the devil begrudged Gaul to Wilfrid and a longer life to Dalfinus, and stirred up infernal fury in Queen Balthild, so that, after the nine bishops she had slaughtered, she might add him as the tenth. She had commanded him through her agents to come to her. Stronger than adversity, although he was well aware of the woman’s wickedness, he hastened to come. When the executioners immediately received him with swords, the young Englishman, with astonishing constancy, almost threw himself upon the very blades, thirsting to share in the death of his father. But although he had already been stripped and his neck was already stretched out, through the compassion of the executioners he was preserved for his England. When report spread the news of his arrival, he was honourably summoned by King Alfrith, son of King Oswiu. When he explained to him the labour and course of his journey, the refinement of Gaul, the splendour of Rome, and moreover the rule of the canons, he was heard willingly and with favour. The king therefore kept him about his person for many days and treated him with particular care because of the friendship newly formed between them, which had been won by his honourable conduct, diligence, preaching, knowledge of affairs and abundance of speech. The king gave him a dwelling at Ripon where he might build a monastery, and the nobles contributed gifts of many kinds. There he was ordained priest and abbot by Angilbert, a Gallic bishop coming from Scotia, and not many days later, after the Scots had been convicted of error concerning the false Easter, he drove out the error and restored knowledge of the correct observance. Kings and nobles rejoiced, and the province gloried in having a native preacher, for by then they were weary of Scottish learning; and many things were bestowed upon Wilfrid with which he might sustain his life and support the poverty of the needy. Nor was he narrow-hearted in distributing to the poor and to strangers what flowed to him from the world, but did so with a kind of joyful rivalry, so that the more he distributed to the poor, the more abundantly God supplied him with things to distribute. Moreover, he was more disciplined in his appetite, more eager in vigils and prayers, and, preserving the chastity he had possessed from his mother’s womb, he did not fall into sin even in his youth. He continued even into old age the practice of pouring cold water over his whole body at night when going to bed. But at last, though only late in life, he ceased at the command of Pope John, lest the cold, increased in his aged body by the application of the cold element, should bring on an incurable illness. Through these qualities he was elected by the favourable acclaim of all as worthy to sanctify the episcopal seat of York. But he persisted in refusing to receive consecration from Scottish bishops, or from those whom the Scots had ordained, whose communion the Apostolic See rejected. Just as it was not his business to name any of them, so it was his own concern to safeguard his reputation and provide for his salvation. Let the royal authority permit it, and let the devotion of the people allow him to be distinguished by the sacred office conferred by Gallic bishops; once this was done, he said, his knowledge would greatly increase when he had been lawfully enthroned. The proposal was approved, and he was sent into Gaul to be consecrated, with a great company accompanying him and great expectation among those who remained behind. There, with twelve bishops acclaiming his election, among whom Angilbert was pre-eminent, and lifting him as he sat upon a golden seat, he was finally brought before the altar and consecrated. But once this had been accomplished, adverse winds caught him on his return and carried him to the opposite shore among the South Saxons; as the tide of the Ocean ebbed away, it left the grounded ship exposed as prey to enemies eagerly awaiting it. The barbarians, who still knew nothing of the true God and lived in Bacchanalian frenzy, were stirred to fury and, joining their forces for battle, sounded the war trumpet. Then, although the bishop, judging that allowance should be made for the circumstances, offered peace and multiplied his promises, the pagans, no less determined, rushed to arms. Indeed, the priest of their sacrilegious rites, standing on higher ground, strove by frenzied incantations to break the strength of the Christians. Then one of the bishop’s companions hurled a stone from a sling and struck the pagan on the forehead with such force that, after penetrating the bone, it injured his brain. At this the barbarian people waged war against the Christians with still greater fury. But they, prepared for either outcome, whichever way fortune turned, either to fall in a noble death or to gain the victory, sixty men rushed upon the densely packed multitude and drove them back two or three times; meanwhile the distinguished bishop, together with the clergy on the shore, prayed on bended knee. Through their prayer, before the appointed hour of the incoming tide, the sea returned, and its obedient waters received the sailors. Not long afterwards they landed at Sandwich, singing a joyful rowing-song because, although countless enemies had been slain, they had lost scarcely five of their own men. Thus, victorious over all his dangers, Wilfrid returned home and found affairs in confusion and Cedda introduced into his see, something which can easily creep even into the most devout minds, especially where their own honour is concerned. Consequently Wilfrid lived humbly at Ripon for three years, exercising the priestly office wherever he was asked to go, always accompanied by a great company of men who did not think that he ought to be abandoned. He was also very frequently invited by Wulfhere, king of the Mercians, who granted him a place called Lichfield where he might establish whatever he wished, whether a bishopric or a monastery. Nor was Egbert, king of the Kentish people, any less devoted to honouring the man; at his invitation Wilfrid advanced many in Kent to ecclesiastical orders. One of these was Putta, afterwards advanced through him to the priesthood and through Theodore to the bishopric of Rochester. For Archbishop Deusdedit had died, and Theodore was being awaited from overseas. When Theodore arrived, recognising that the matter had been wrongly carried out contrary to the canons, he degraded Cedda, who endured the injury modestly and with an untroubled spirit. The patience of this most holy man moved Wilfrid deeply, so that, with his own support, he raised him once again through all the orders and installed him as bishop of Lichfield. There, after surviving for some years, Cedda found an end befitting his holiness. Meanwhile Wilfrid was not passing his time in pleasures, but devoted himself first to increasing Christianity and shaping the conduct of Christians, and secondly to raising new buildings and repairing old ones. A basilica once built at York by King Edwin at the prompting of blessed Paulinus had no roof; its half-ruined walls, threatening complete collapse, served only as nests for birds. Moved inwardly with grief at the unworthiness of the situation, the bishop strengthened the masonry, raised the roof, and protected it, once raised, from the violence of storms with sheets of lead. Light had entered through the windows either through thin linen cloth or through perforated wooden boards; he made them of glass. Age and many kinds of bad weather had disfigured the beauty of the walls; he whitened them with bright lime. Ripon too experienced the bishop’s industry, for there he built a church from its foundations, with a marvellous curvature of arches, a pavement of stone slabs and winding porticoes. The brother kings Egfrid and Elwin were invited to its consecration, for their father Oswiu had died in the meantime. They endowed the place with immense estates, and, after being praised before the people in the most ample words, repaid the honour paid to their reputation by three days of the most lavish provision of food. The joy of what seemed a worldly splendour was continued by a divine miracle in the raising of a dead man. The matter happened as follows. When the bishop entered the village of Tiddanefre, a great crowd of women came to meet him, bringing children to be confirmed. A poor woman mingled with the flowing crowd and, acting cunningly, pretended that her lifeless son was to be catechised, concealing his death and suppressing her tears. She firmly believed that by this device he could recover his life. But when the bishop uncovered the little boy’s veiled face in order to perform the office, he perceived that he was without life. Then the woman, whose deception had failed of success, turned to entreaties, begging him by God and by his mother, if he had any faith, if he had any piety, to raise the lifeless child. At the same time she threw herself at his feet and began to use a kind of force, refusing altogether to move from the spot. Meanwhile the judgement of the most holy man wavered as to whether he should rashly attempt an unfamiliar miracle or harshly disregard the tears of a bereaved woman. But compassion overcame the heart of virtue, and, murmuring inwardly a few words from the divine Psalms, he then placed his right hand upon the corpse and restored the soul to the little body. Immediately the child yawned, and by a lively movement of his eyelids and the effort of his whole little body showed that he had returned to life. The mother cried out for joy, but, restrained by the bishop, fell silent. The boy was called Adelwald, and afterwards became a monk at Ripon; he seemed no small addition to the miracles of Wilfrid. He performed a miracle similar to this at Hengsteldeheim at about the same time. There a church was rising high at his expense, and a monk fell from the top of the building and had all his bones shattered. Carried from there into the oratory, he left those who looked upon him uncertain whether he was altogether dead, since he had neither voice nor sensation. But the bishop, his eyes filled with tears, called the monks to prayer and urged them to cast off the sluggishness of their faith, for nothing would be difficult for those who believed [Mark 9:23]. Prayer therefore was raised aloft with one voice, and mercy was drawn down from heaven. The monk breathed again, and those who saw him began to hope for signs of recovery; his broken bones were bound, and the sick man recovered by grace. Nor was King Egfrid any less diligent in his own duty, enlarging his kingdom against the Picts and defending it against the Mercians. For after the death of King Oswiu, the Picts, making little account of the tender infancy of the reign, rushed forward of their own accord and conspired against the Northumbrians. The young king, meeting them with the sub-king Bernech, destroyed so innumerable an army of Picts with so few of his own soldiers that the fields, covered with corpses, lost the appearance of level ground, and the rivers, their courses obstructed, ceased to flow. Wulfhere, king of the Mercians, likewise raged against them and led an army against them, for he remembered that his father had been killed by the same people. He therefore came with confident purpose, intending either to make good his loss or to gain the kingdom. Yet fortune did not favour him, nor was it scarcely more prosperous than his father’s, except that, shamefully turning his back, he escaped without glory and, surviving only a few days afterwards, ceded part of the Northumbrian provinces to the king. As a result of these victories Wilfrid’s estates were increased and churches with communities of monks were established. For he was loved by everyone out of reverence for his virtues, and was commended, besides those qualities which we have enumerated above, for his praiseworthy abstinence. It is very well known that at his most temperate supper he rarely consumed more than one dish and never drained more than one cup. Moreover, gentle and approachable to everyone, he drew them into affection for him. Accordingly, abbots and abbesses appointed him either lord of their property while they lived or heir to it when they died. Nobles entrusted their sons to him to be educated, so that when they came of age they might serve either God or the world. From this unhappy envy breathed into the hearts of Queen Ermenburg and certain attendants, who begrudged Wilfrid such great wealth. For while the most blessed Etheldrida outwardly served the royal marriage-bed, she reconciled her husband to the most blessed bishop, soothing with the soundness of her counsel anything that might be whispered against him. The king himself too, while he enjoyed the bishop’s favour, prospered in affairs both in war and at home according to his wishes. But after the new bride entered the marriage chamber, the bishop’s peace was broken and vanished, and the king’s house, gradually diminished, finally fell. The queen therefore stirred up hostility against the bishop because he had so many abbots and so many abbeys; because he caused himself to be served from vessels of gold and silver; and because a crowd of attendants, proud in the splendour of their clothing, walked beside him. So this envious report quickly reached Theodore, archbishop of Canterbury. He did not delay, but, weakening his firmness of mind in expectation of gifts, introduced three bishops from another region into Wilfrid’s diocese without consulting him. Yet he put forward the cause of justice, arguing that three bishops should be supported from the resources by which one had grown swollen; that such great expenditure and the circuit of so great a diocese were sufficient for four bishops. These things might indeed have seemed rightly said if he had either not cast down the man who had acquired everything by his own industry after stripping him entirely, or had at least acted with his consent. Nor could this most evident violence be concealed when Wilfrid himself approached the king in judgement, demanding an account of the wrongs done to him. “We charge you with no offence,” they said, “but we wish what we have decreed to stand.” What could be more absurd than this statement? It was as though they were saying that line of Juvenal:

² “This I will, thus I command; let my will stand in place of reason.”

³ But when the bishop appealed to the Apostolic See, those who stood by the king burst into mocking laughter, and he replied with these words: “This mockery which you now make of my departure will be changed for you into great sorrow on this same day next year.” The true course of events matched the bishop’s words. For Ethelred, king of the Mercians and brother of Wulfhere, began a war not many days after Wilfrid’s departure, wishing to avenge the injuries done to his brother. The spirited Egfrith went out to meet him, thinking that he would prevail by his accustomed terror; but the Mercian routed his forces and slew his brother Elwin. Northumbria, turned to mourning by this grief, now lamented the absence of the man who had once been its counsellor. And it happened that, when the year had come full circle, on the very day on which Wilfrid had suffered judgement against him at York, the body of the royal youth was brought into the city and proclaimed a prolonged period of mourning. Thus Ethelred, having enjoyed his triumph, walked beside him. So this envious report quickly reached Theodore, archbishop of Canterbury. He did not delay, but, weakening his firmness of mind in expectation of gifts, introduced three bishops from another region into Wilfrid’s diocese without consulting him. Yet he put forward the cause of justice, arguing that three bishops should be supported from the resources by which one had grown swollen; that such great expenditure and the circuit of so great a diocese were sufficient for four bishops. These things might indeed have seemed rightly said if he had either not cast down the man who had acquired everything by his own industry after stripping him entirely, or had at least acted with his consent. Nor could this most evident violence be concealed when Wilfrid himself approached the king in judgement, demanding an account of the wrongs done to him. “We charge you with no offence,” they said, “but we wish what we have decreed to stand.” What could be more absurd than this statement? It was as though they were saying that line of Juvenal: “This I will, thus I command; let my will stand in place of reason.” But when the bishop appealed to the Apostolic See, those who stood by the king burst into mocking laughter, and he replied with these words: “This mockery which you now make of my departure will be changed for you into great sorrow on this same day next year.” The true course of events matched the bishop’s words. For Ethelred, king of the Mercians and brother of Wulfhere, began a war not many days after Wilfrid’s departure, wishing to avenge the injuries done to his brother. The spirited Egfrith went out to meet him, thinking that he would prevail by his accustomed terror; but the Mercian routed his forces and slew his brother Elwin. Northumbria, turned to mourning by this grief, now lamented the absence of the man who had once been its counsellor. It happened that, when a year had passed, on the very day on which he had suffered the judgement against him at York, the body of the royal youth was brought into the city and proclaimed a prolonged period of mourning. Thus Ethelred enjoyed his triumph. Meanwhile Wilfrid, crossing through Campania on his journey and intending from there to enter Rome, turned aside to Bertharius, duke of the province, who had already been informed of his case through messages from his enemies and enticed by promises to harm him. Although at first he behaved arrogantly, nevertheless, when he had heard a truthful account, he suppressed his anger. And so he not only refrained from harming him but also, by his support, brought the matter to a favourable conclusion, saying that he was prompted to do this by the kindness of a certain king of the Huns, with whom he had once lived in exile, who, although a pagan, could not be corrupted by any agreement into harming a man to whom he had sworn faith. At length, therefore, when Wilfrid finally came to Rome, he found the city astonished in expectation of him. For Kenwald, a monk of modest religious life, had arrived before him, sent by Theodore, carrying written accusations and expressing the bitterness of the charge in harsh words. Moved by this, the most holy Pope Agatho convened a council of fifty bishops and abbots in the Basilica of the Saviour, which is called the Constantinian Basilica. This is the form of that council: Agatho, the most holy and thrice-blessed bishop of the catholic and apostolic Church of the city of Rome, said to those sitting with him: “I do not believe it is hidden from your holy brotherhood why I have summoned you to this venerable assembly. For I wish your reverence to learn, and to consider together with me, what dissension has recently arisen in the churches of the island of Britain, where by the grace of God the multitude of the faithful has increased, and which has been reported to us both through the accounts of those who have come here and through a series of written documents.” Andrew, the most reverend bishop of Ostia, and John, bishop of Porto, said: “The ordering of all the churches indeed depends upon the judgement of your apostolic authority, since you act in the place of the blessed Apostle Peter. Nevertheless, at your command, we too recently sat together with our fellow bishops and fellow servants and read through individually all the writings which those sent from the island of Britain brought to your apostolic pontificate: both those sent in the name of the most reverend archbishop who was formerly dispatched from here to that land by the Apostolic See, and the reports of others against a certain bishop who, as they say, sought to evade judgement, as well as those submitted by Wilfrid, the bishop beloved of God of the holy Church of York, who, having been expelled from his see by the aforementioned most holy man, has come all the way here. Although many accusations were included in these writings, we have found neither that he was convicted of any offences according to the exact requirements of the holy canons, and therefore that he was deposed in a catholic manner, nor that his accusers demonstrated in their own words that he had committed any offences for which he ought to have been degraded. Rather, we have learned that he maintained moderation, since he did not involve himself in any seditious struggles but, after being driven from his see and making the circumstances of the deed known to his fellow bishops, the aforementioned Wilfrid, bishop beloved of God, hastened here to the Apostolic See.”

⁴ Agatho, the most holy and thrice-blessed bishop of the catholic and apostolic Church of the city of Rome, said: “Let Wilfrid, the bishop beloved of God of the holy Church of York, who is reported to be before the doors of our venerable council chamber, be admitted to our council chamber according to his request, together with the petition which he is said to have brought with him.” As Wilfrid, the bishop beloved of God, entered the venerable council chamber, he said: “I beg your pontifical blessedness to command that the petition of my humility be received and read aloud before you.” Agatho, the most holy bishop, said: “Let the petition of Wilfrid, the bishop beloved of God, be received and read aloud before everyone.” John the notary received it and read it aloud before the holy and apostolic council: “I, Wilfrid, humble and unworthy bishop of Saxony, have, with God going before me, directed the steps of my heart to this apostolic summit as to a fortified place and a tower of strength [Psalm 61:3]; because, knowing that from here the rule of the sacred canons flows forth to all the churches of Christ, I confidently expect justice to be done to my humility from this source. For I do not doubt that your pontifical eminence has learned, both from the representation of my humility and from what I personally presented in my living voice before your apostolic eyes at the very beginning of my arrival, that certain invaders of my bishopric, though no fault had been proved against me, attempted, contrary to the decrees of the sacred canons, at an assembly of the most holy Theodore, archbishop of the Kentish people, and of other bishops who had gathered there, to usurp my see, which I had held for ten years and more; and three bishops were appointed within my bishopric, although their appointment was not canonical. What happened to cause Theodore, the most holy archbishop, while I was still alive, to ordain by his own authority, without the consent of any bishop and without the agreement of my humility, three bishops in the see which, though unworthy, I administered, it is more fitting, out of reverence for that man, that I should pass over than demand an account of it; for since he was sent from this summit of apostolic authority, I do not dare to accuse him. Nevertheless, if it has become clear that, contrary to the law of the canonical decrees and without any offence on my part of the kind punished by canonical severity, I was driven from my former see, and that I did not appear turbulent to anyone, but merely called upon my fellow servants and fellow priests, the bishops of that province, as witnesses and departed, then, if your apostolic authority determines that I should remain deprived of it, with humble devotion I willingly embrace whatever is decreed. But if it determines that I should receive my former bishopric again, I follow and with all my strength revere the judgement pronounced by the Apostolic See, provided only that the invaders are expelled from the former parishes of the church over which I, your unworthy servant, presided. And if it should determine that bishops are again to be appointed within the same parish over which I presided, let it at least command that such men be promoted as I may be able, with peaceful and tranquil concord maintained, to serve God together with one mind.” And so forth. Agatho, the most holy and thrice-blessed bishop of the holy catholic and apostolic Church of the city of Rome, said: “The substance of the petition which Wilfrid, the bishop beloved of God, has presented gives no small satisfaction to those who hear it, in that, when he recognised that he had been unjustly cast down from his episcopal see, he did not resist stubbornly by means of secular force, but, thinking humbly, sought the canonical assistance of our founder, blessed Peter, prince of the apostles, and with suppliant expectation promises that he will accept whatever is decreed concerning him, not doubting the justice of the sentence to be pronounced, and declaring with complete faith that he will accept whatever our founder, the blessed Apostle Peter, whose ministry we discharge, shall determine to be established through our mouth.” The whole holy synod which was sitting there, among its other determinations, said: “We establish and decree that Wilfrid, the bishop beloved of God, shall receive the bishopric which he lately held, and that those whom, with the consent of a council to be assembled there, he shall choose as assistants for himself shall be ordained by the most holy archbishop and promoted as bishops, while those who were irregularly introduced into the bishopric during his absence shall without doubt be expelled.” And so forth, in which they forbid anyone to refuse to accept these decrees.

⁵ Glorying in these decrees, the bishop was also commanded by order of the pope to sit among the holy bishops, one hundred and fifty in number, who were holding a council against those who preach one operation in the two natures of our Lord Jesus Christ. Setting out from there on his return journey, and kept safe from every danger by God’s protection, he came to his homeland. Although he obtained access to the king only with difficulty, he presented the sealed decrees of the Apostolic See. The king had them read by the bishops of his household who belonged to his faction, and was so far from showing reverence for the Roman See that, after stripping the blessed bishop of everything he possessed and sending his companions away in different directions, he entrusted him to a certain governor, a man notorious for cruelty, to be thrust into prison. He readily believed those who claimed that the decrees had been bought for a price, because the Romans ingratiated themselves with those who gave them gifts. The whole court seethed with eagerness to injure the bishop, so much so that the queen, having had the bishop’s chrism-vessel forcibly taken from him, did not hesitate—I shudder to relate it—to carry it about with her as though it were a relic, either around her neck or in her carriage. With untroubled mind and countenance the priest endured everything, and with holy exhortations encouraged his followers, for whom he feared, to bear it bravely until God’s mercy and unconquerable favour should bring their calamities to an end. But the governor, barbarous and savage towards others yet English and gentle towards this man, inflicted no torment upon him except darkness, not daring altogether to disregard the king’s commands. Yet divine favour did not allow the light of Britain to be oppressed by the indignity of darkness, that light which a heavenly flame had marked while his mother was still being delivered of the burden of her womb. A lamp sent down from above broke through the thickness of the prison, and its light, rivalling daylight, made the absent day present. The brightness struck the eyes of the executioners peering through the cracks and forced them to flee to their master. He indeed shuddered when he heard of it, but through fear of Egfrid he changed nothing from the usual treatment. What spurred the hesitant man was his wife’s illness: suddenly seized by it, she terrified her husband with gaping mouth and foaming vomit. Soon, shaken by an even greater demon, she became bloodless and speechless and grew rigid. He rushed out and, throwing himself at the bishop’s feet, readily obtained pardon from the merciful prelate; for at once he offered prayer, poured blessed water into the throat of the gasping woman, and she was freed from her illness and recovered good health. Egfrid heard of this through a message from the governor, who grieved and begged him not to sacrifice him undeservedly to the devil by making him guilty through the punishment of an innocent bishop. But the king, not at all changed, ordered that Wilfrid be taken away from Osfrith—for that was the man’s name, since he regarded him as a man of degenerate spirit—and handed over to an attendant of crueller disposition named Tinber. As the king’s cruelty increased, so did the wonder of the miracle. For when Tinber ordered him to be chained and a fierce servant brought out iron fetters with which to bind the saint’s legs, the treacherous fetter continually slipped away from the servant’s hands as he tried to fasten it. Either the narrower fetter could not encircle the thicker legs, or the looser chain could not touch the slender legs. And whenever nothing was lacking in the craftsmanship, the bonds unwound themselves with such speed that the eyes of those watching could not follow them. Wickedness yielded to reverence: the saint was released from his bonds and kept under unrestricted custody. Egfrid cared nothing for any of these things, but whenever he heard of them he either dismissed them as a joke or disgraced them with mockery. Messengers nevertheless frequently travelled from him to the bishop with instructions that he should voluntarily invalidate the substance of the decrees he had brought and say that they had been extorted by payment rather than obtained by judgement. If he did this, through the king’s indulgence he would recover part of his bishopric and all his possessions; if not, he himself would be responsible for his own loss, since he was the author of the division. These threats did little to move the bishop’s mind towards agreement; rather, he replied that he would not do such a thing even at the risk of his life, so as to bring the authority of the Apostolic See into disrepute. What, meanwhile, of Queen Ermenburga, the source and instigator of all the evil? She spent her days and nights continually at feasts, and carried the bishop’s chrism-vessel in triumphal display, rejoicing in her rich spoils. But when one night she was staying with Abbess Ebba, her husband’s aunt, the devil entered into her very marrow, and she began to do unnatural things and speak madly. Roused by her cries, the abbess ran to her and gently asked what illness afflicted her. She gave no answer, for the distress of her condition had already closed off her voice. Then the servant of God, understanding the cause, advised her nephew that the chrism-vessel should be returned to the most blessed man and that he should be restored to all his possessions in accordance with the apostolic commands. He should do this if he wished his wife to be safe; but if royal obstinacy thought it right to persist in evil, he should at least return what he had taken and allow Wilfrid to depart freely. This was done, and the queen then recovered completely; and after her husband’s death, changing her way of life, she religiously repented of what she had done.

⁶ Wilfrid, therefore, driven from his native land, made his way towards West Saxony; and there, received by a certain nobleman named Bertwald, he found shelter for only a very few days. For Egelred, king of the Mercians, to whom that man was subject, since he was the son of his brother, sharply ordered him by messengers not to keep Wilfrid even for a single day. This was done to flatter Egfrid, whose sister Osdrida had married Egelred as consolation for the death of her brother Elwin, and had established peace between her husband her brother. From there, after a small monastery had already been built there, Wilfrid left his monks behind and fled to the South Saxons, who were still pagans, since no place among Christians remained where he could find refuge. Their king was called Edelwalh, who, after hearing the reasons for his exile, immediately resolved to assist the bishop. He therefore entered into the firmest agreement that he would neither betray him to his enemies in response to entreaties nor surrender him for a price. Relying upon this protection, Wilfrid preached Christianity first to the king and queen, and afterwards also to the people of the province. Nor was there any difficulty in persuading them, for the king was immediately baptised and encouraged the others by his example to do the same. He also gave the bishop his own estate, where he himself more commonly lived, called Selesi; Wilfrid filled it with monks and transmitted it to posterity as an episcopal see. At that time Cedwalla had been expelled from West Saxony through a faction of the nobles, and when he frequently came to the saint for advice, Wilfrid readily supported him, supplying both him and his followers with horses and money. While Cedwalla raged against everyone and threatened everyone, he put King Edelwalh to death when, through some misfortune, the king encountered him. Then, having gained possession of all West Saxony, Cedwalla placed Wilfrid, as his master and lord, over the whole kingdom, judging that nothing should be done anywhere in the province without his consent. Finally, he gave him very extensive possessions on the island of Wehta, and willingly confirmed by decree those which he had possessed before.

⁷ Many years passed in these circumstances. By then Egfrid had fallen in the war against the Picts; by then Theodore was approaching death, and, his conscience wounded by the sin he had committed against Wilfrid, he summoned Wilfrid himself and Bishop Erkenwold to London. Having confessed all his sins to them, he said that he was especially troubled by the scruple that he had sinned against the saint, having allowed him, contrary to the rules, to be despoiled either through open insistence or silent acquiescence. “And because,” he said, “my end is approaching next year, as I have learned through God’s forewarning, and frequent illness gives me warning, I ask you, most holy bishop, kindly to forgive the offence I committed against you and to take up the see of my archbishopric, since you are the most learned of all the English in Roman laws. God permitting, I shall endeavour to erase old offences by fresh diligence in service, making the kings your friends both by authority and by entreaties.” Wilfrid answered these words calmly, and as befitted a holy man; but he did not consent to accept the archbishopric without the decision of a greater council. Theodore therefore exerted all his strength so that Wilfrid might recover his bishopric, sending envoys and letters to Alfrid, king of the Northumbrians, who had succeeded Egfrid, and to his sister Elfled, abbess of Streneshalh, urging them to put former hostilities aside and embrace his friendship without delay. To show the fervour of his efforts, I shall set down here the letter which he sent to Ethelred, king of the Mercians. “To the most glorious and excellent king of the Mercians, Theodore, by the grace of God archbishop, everlasting salvation in the Lord. Let your admirable holiness know, most beloved son, that I am at peace with the venerable Bishop Wilfrid. And therefore, dearest son, I admonish you and command you in the love of Christ to grant protection to his holy devotion, as far as your strength allows, just as you have always done, for as long as you live, because, deprived of his own possessions for a long time, he has laboured greatly in the Lord among the pagans. And therefore I, Theodore, a humble bishop in decrepit old age, make this request of your blessedness, because apostolic authority, as you know, commends this, and that most holy man in his patience possessed his soul [Luke 21:19], and, gentle and humble under the injuries unjustly inflicted upon him, bowed his head and awaited a remedy. And if I have found favour in your sight, although because of the length of the journey it may seem burdensome to you, let my eyes see your joyful face, and let my soul bless you before I die [Genesis 27:4]. Act therefore, my son, towards that aforementioned most holy man as I have asked you; because, if you obey your father who will soon depart from this world, it will greatly profit you towards salvation. Farewell.”

⁸ When Wilfrid therefore came to the kings with the archbishop’s letters, he was greeted and shown favour. Alfrith, who had known him well in former times, first freely granted him the monastery of Hængsteldeheim, after inviting him to his presence of his own accord, and then, by decision of a council, the bishopric of York and the monastery at Ripon. This friendship between them lasted scarcely five years, until poisonous counsels, fostered in the breasts of certain men, broke out openly. Influenced by these, King Alfrith, after diminishing the monastery of Ripon by taking away some of its own possessions, planned to establish a bishopric there, asserting that obedience was owed to the decrees of Archbishop Theodore, not those issued at the beginning and end, but those promulgated in the intervening period, which were known to have stirred up discord. Angered by these things, Wilfrid departed to his friend Ethelred, king of the Mercians. After living under him for a very long time, when Sexwulf, bishop of Lichfield, died, he governed that bishopric, being both loved and revered by all the people of the province. But after King Alfrith and Archbishop Berhtwald, who had succeeded Theodore, had devised and pursued many schemes against Wilfrid, matters finally came to this: under the pretence of peace, they summoned him to a council. There they intended either to bend him to their will by enticements or, if he did not consent, to crush him by force. Unaware of their deceit and judging others by the uprightness of his own mind, he went to the council; but what he experienced was very different from what he had expected. For after they had long wearied him with abuse and false accusations of crimes, at last they asked him whether he was willing to obey the decrees of Archbishop Theodore. Perceiving their wickedness, he frustrated them with a shrewd reply, saying that he would willingly obey those decisions of Theodore which agreed with the sacred canons. Then, after a lengthy argument, he sharply and truthfully rebuked them because for twenty-three years now they had disbelieved the commands of three popes, Agatho, Benedict and Sergius, while cherishing Theodore the archbishop’s decrees, which were known to have been made amid dissension, and then he fell silent. Alfrith’s anger was now rising so greatly that he said to the archbishop, “If you command it, father, I shall crush him by force.” Since even his enemies disliked the thought that a man of such renown, who had come to the council relying upon their good faith, should suffer the injustice of violent oppression, they decided that another course should be taken. And so they began, as though peacefully, to persuade him that, because very frequent dissensions were springing up in the Church of God on his account, he should voluntarily surrender his possessions and bishopric and confirm this renunciation in writing. This, they said, would commend his reputation and increase his glory, if he preferred to live quietly as a private man rather than stir up storms of sedition, either himself or through others, for the sake of his bishopric. The father perceived that a very complicated matter was concealed in these words and replied that nothing could contribute more to a man’s disgrace than to condemn himself by his own voice. He had been the first to teach the true Easter in Northumbria after the Scots had been expelled; he had established ecclesiastical singing in antiphonal form; he had ordered the monks to observe the rule of the most holy Benedict; and for all these things, now that he was an old man and had been a bishop for almost forty years, he was receiving this reward in his office: that he was being compelled to condemn himself in writing. They should therefore know that he would not do this, because it would bring disgrace upon himself, calamity upon those subject to him and harm to everyone. Rather, he would appeal to the Apostolic See, and if any of them presumed to engage in an ecclesiastical dispute with him, he would summon him there. Now therefore, at the age of seventy, he contemplated once again the hardships of the journey and once again Rome. Without much delay he crossed the sea, completed the journey and entered the city. He then waited for some days until his accusers arrived. When they had arrived, they presented their case in letters, while he pleaded what concerned himself in the following manner.

⁹ “To the most blessed universal Pope John, Wilfrid, suppliant and humble servant of the servants of God, bishop. Let your Holiness know that, because of the disturbances which recently arose in Britain on the part of those who, contrary to the decrees of the most blessed Pope Agatho and of his successors, the venerable fathers, were usurping for themselves my bishopric, monasteries and lands, together with all my possessions, I was compelled to appeal to this most holy Apostolic See, calling upon them by Almighty God and blessed Peter the Apostle that, if anyone had any accusation against me, he should come into your presence, as the writings of your most blessed predecessor Sergius decreed. And therefore I have taken care to offer the petition of my humility to your glorious presence, so that in the abundant benevolence of your mercy you may deign to confirm what your most blessed predecessors decreed concerning my lowliness. And if any accuser comes against me, let him be brought forward by your command make whatever charge he wishes. And if I do not convincingly refute whatever is alleged against me, even the smallest charge, I am prepared to undergo the severity of the canons. Next I ask that I may obtain from your eminence letters of commendation to Egelred, king of the Mercians, so that all my monasteries which are in his province may enjoy peace. I also ask for a letter to Alfrith, king of the Northumbrians, so that he may restore to me everything that is mine. But if perhaps it should seem burdensome to him that I should hold the bishopric of York, let the Apostolic See determine who is to be bishop there; only let me not lose the two monasteries situated in that province, Ripon and Hagustaldeie, which I founded. Finally, I promise that I shall obey all the decrees of Archbishop Berhtwald which are not contrary to the firmly established decrees of your predecessors concerning my lowliness.” When the accusers sent by Archbishop Berhtwald were ordered to answer these things, they first said this: that it was a serious and capital offence that, at the council assembled in Britain, Wilfrid had defiantly declared that he would not obey the decrees of Archbishop Berhtwald. Standing before them, the bishop cleared himself of this charge by saying that he had not answered in such an unqualified way, but only that he would obey those decrees which were not contrary to the decrees of the canons; but that it was contrary to the rules for him to condemn himself without any charge of wrongdoing being brought against him.

¹⁰ When this convincing and straightforward reply had stirred joyful applause among the Romans, the accusers were ordered to return home; the bishops said that, although the canons provided that an accuser who failed in the first charge of his accusation should not afterwards proceed to attempt others, nevertheless, out of reverence for Archbishop Berhtwald, they would not fail to examine everything in order. And so it came about that, over four months, seventy councils were convened, either solely for this matter or chiefly for it, and they ended gloriously for Wilfrid and disgracefully for his accusers; the Romans were greatly astonished at the impudence of the latter and the eloquence of the former, since whatever accusations they brought against him, he, without devising any elaborate reply, but supported by the aid of God and of truth itself, swept them away and overthrew them like spiders’ webs at the first movement of his lips. The bishops were all the more astonished at the audacity of the advocates: how men who held no ecclesiastical rank, except that one of them was a deacon, presumed to accuse a venerable old man, a bishop of forty years’ standing and a torrent of eloquence. After speaking Greek among themselves at great length, they finally returned to our language, condemned those who had been sent as deserving imprisonment, reproved the sender for his foolishness, and pronounced Wilfrid free from every charge.

¹¹ At this point I would add how much benefit the reading of Pope Agatho’s synod brought to his case, and also how, when he was returning home and was stricken by illness at Meaux, a city of France lying east of Paris, he was healed by an angelic vision, had not the venerable historian Bede, worthy of belief because of the restraint of his language, anticipated the account. We shall briefly insert from him those things omitted from Scripture. Although, therefore, the bishop had gained his case, he nevertheless desired to remain at Rome, intending to breathe out his aged spirit at the feet of the lords, the apostles. The reasoning of Pope John opposed this pious wish, for he said that Wilfrid was needed in England, and therefore commanded him not to spend what remained of his life in foreign lands, but to devote it to the welfare of his homeland. He therefore returned and brought the apostolic letters to Ethelred, king of the Mercians, who was now a monk. Humbly and on bended knee Ethelred received the honour of the apostolic greeting and, when the documents had been read, readily secured from Kenred, the son of his brother Wulfhere, whom he had appointed king in his place, the fulfilment of what their contents commanded. For Kenred too was full of the fear of God, as was proved four years later when he voluntarily renounced the kingdom for the world. Nor was Archbishop Berhtwald any slower: not disdainfully seeking peace, he hastened into the unity of brotherly concord. They say that he had been terrified by the threats of the Apostolic See, while his envoys added bitter complaints about his condemnation, although Wilfrid had already freed them by his entreaties from the sentence passed upon them. King Alfrith of the Northumbrians alone, adhering to a more obstinate judgement, persisted in his stubbornness. For when messengers were sent to him on Wilfrid’s behalf, he at first gave a favourable answer; but, corrupted, as is believed, by the counsels of malicious men, to whom he yielded far too much beyond what befitted his dignity, he saddened them when they returned to him on the appointed day with this judgement: that he indeed showed honour to the persons of the envoys, as though to parents, because they were weighty in their manner of life and honourable in appearance; but that he entirely refused assent to their embassy, because it was contrary to reason to receive into communion, on account of any apostolic writings whatever, a man who had already twice been condemned by the whole council of the English. But he himself did not remain alive much longer. For immediately after their departure he was seized by a severe illness and tormented towards death. The bitterness of his suffering drew forth the reason that had long lain dormant in the royal mind, and, according to the prophet, “affliction gave understanding to hearing” [Isaiah 28:19]. Understanding that he was being punished for his disobedience, he promised that he would make every amends for his conduct towards Wilfrid if Wilfrid could be brought to him while he was still alive. Nor, for as long as he could speak before his voice failed, did he cease to promise the same thing, and, if he himself should be deprived of fulfilling his vow, to adjure his heir to do it. Thus, dying soon afterwards, he regretted too late that he had despised the apostolic letters, whose threats he did not deserve to escape. Since I have frequently mentioned these letters, I am minded to set them down here in abbreviated form, so that it may be plain how great a misery entangles mortals, since those men whom antiquity celebrates as most holy—Theodore, Berhtwald, John, Bosa, and also Abbess Hilda—assailed with bitter hatred Wilfrid, who, as is proved by what has already been said, was most acceptable to God.

¹² “John the pope, to the most eminent lords Ethelred, king of the Mercians, and Alfrid, king of the Deirans and Bernicians. We indeed rejoice, with the grace of God assisting, at the growth of your religion, seeing in you the fervour of the faith which, through the preaching of the prince of the apostles, God illuminating your souls, you received and steadfastly retain. And may our joy be increased by your progress towards better things. Yet the inextricable dissension of certain men troubles our minds, and it must be corrected, lest you be found transgressors rather than keepers of the apostolic commands. For some time ago, under Pope Agatho of apostolic memory, when Bishop Wilfrid appealed to this see concerning his case, and accusers sent by Theodore, archbishop of the holy Church of Canterbury, who had been dispatched from here to that place, and by Hilda, abbess of devout memory, had arrived, the bishops then gathered here from various regions examined the matter according to the rules and gave their judgement upon it, and the successors of that pontiff, our predecessors, maintained the same judgement. Nor is Archbishop Theodore known to have opposed it, since he never afterwards sent any accusation here. Now also, over the course of several days, we have caused the accusations of those who came here from Britain against Bishop Wilfrid, and his replies, to be heard before an assembly of the most reverend bishops who were found here, both from the earlier and more recent letters and from what the parties presented orally; but since the principal persons from whom the whole dispute arose were not present here, it is necessary for them to come if the dispute is to reach an end. Therefore we admonish our brother Archbishop Berhtwald to summon a synod together with Bishop Wilfrid, and to cause Bosa and John to attend the synod, and to hear the statements of the parties and consider what each side is able to prove against the other. If he can settle the matter at that synod, it will be pleasing to us. But if not, let him admonish them to come to the Apostolic See, so that by a greater council that may be decided which has until then been unable to be brought to an end. Let him know, however, that whoever refuses to come will subject himself to deposition and is no longer to be received as a bishop either here or there. Let your royal highness therefore bring about their attendance, so that those things which, with Christ’s favour, we have discerned may be brought into effect. But whoever, whatever his rank, rashly and boldly disregards this will not go unpunished by God, nor will he escape without loss when bound from heaven [Matthew 16:19].”

¹³ After Alfrid’s death, a certain Edulf, aspiring to tyranny, also poured out the fury of his diseased mind upon Wilfrid, as though he had sworn allegiance to Alfrid’s madness. For when the bishop, remembering that he had once been his friend, thought it reasonable to approach him, Edulf boiled over with such folly that he ordered him to leave his kingdom immediately, unless he preferred to be stripped of all his possessions and cast out in disgrace. But after two months he was deprived of both life and kingdom, and, his crown taken captive, struck the ground as he died, while the nobles of the kingdom restored Osred, Alfrid’s son, to the throne. Berfrith, the foremost among them in loyalty and authority, was summoned by Archbishop Berhtwald and consented that a council should be held in Northumbria, so that Wilfrid’s just cause might at last receive a peaceful settlement. There, in accordance with the apostolic commands, the bishops were given the choice either to yield to Wilfrid in his portion of the bishopric or to go to Rome to defend their case. Whoever thought fit to resist these commands was to be excluded from communion. While the bishops resisted in their usual manner, the most blessed virgin Elfled, Alfrid’s sister and abbess of Streneshalb after Hilda, brought the matter to a conclusion, saying: “Leaving evasions aside, I bring forward the testament of my brother, at which I was personally present. From it he is known to have promised that, if he recovered, he would fulfil without delay the commands of the Apostolic See, or, if death intervened and prevented him from doing so, to have entrusted their fulfilment to his heir.” Then Bertfrid added his own words to those of the virgin: “I judge,” he said, “that the pope’s commands must be obeyed, especially since the command of our king and the pledge made in our necessity add their strength to them. For when, after his death, our enemies pressed us and we were shut up in Bebbanburg, confined under siege and in danger of our lives, we vowed to God that we would fulfil the pope’s command if we were able to escape. We had scarcely finished making the vow when, I confess, most holy archbishop, the whole province, eager for the struggle, immediately came over to our side. The royal boy was raised to be king, the enemy was driven away, and the tyrant was destroyed. It is therefore the royal will that Bishop Wilfrid should be restored to his possessions.” When these things had been said, the clouds of dissension were driven away and the serenity of peace poured in. The bishops hastened to embrace him, and with harmonious minds they spent what remained of their lives, while the two monasteries, Ripon and Hengsteldeheim, were left to Wilfrid. After enjoying unbroken peace for four years following his return, he was attacked, as the archangel Michael had foretold, by the same illness that had once afflicted him at Meaux, so severely that he suddenly lost both consciousness and speech. But when his followers prayed to God that he might at least be granted speech to make the division of his possessions, he recovered fully enough to speak continuously and, after some days, when the strength of health had been restored, to visit all his houses. Then, because his frequent illnesses left him in no doubt that death was near, he made good whatever he seemed previously to have done with insufficient zeal in any good matter. He appointed superiors over all his monasteries and divided his treasures into four parts. One part, and the best, was to be given to the Roman Church, by whose authority he had always been delivered from every wrong and restored to his honours. He intended to carry this out in person, despite the burden of his years, had an iron rest not overtaken him while he was contemplating it. The second part was for the poor. The third he entrusted to the superiors of the monasteries, so that with it they might purchase the friendship of the powerful and break the assault of their opponents. The fourth was for those who, having been inseparable companions of his labours, had not yet received lands by which they might support themselves. Thus, after taking leave of the men of Ripon, whom he had always cherished with particular affection, and of the other Northumbrians, he set out for a meeting with Celred, king of the Mercians, to which he had been invited, and at the same time to secure the peace of his monasteries, very many of which he had established in that region through the generosity of kings. After visiting and enriching them all, and when a year and a half had passed since he had been warned for the second time of his approaching death, he was seized by illness at Inundalum and realised that his final day was at hand. Addressing his sons in a few words, as far as his strength allowed, and imparting his sacred blessing, he came to his end, apparently free from all anguish, after the monks sitting beside him had recited the Psalter as far as the verse: “Send forth your Spirit, and they shall be created” [Psalm 104:30]. He departed in the seventy-sixth year of his age and the forty-sixth of his episcopate, a man tossed by many dangers because of his devotion to justice, who even in exile did not give himself to idleness but diligently founded monasteries and bishoprics. He was remarkably gifted at winning the favour of the rulers among whom he lived in exile, yet because of his strict adherence to justice he was hated by the kings of his own countrymen. He left more monasteries than any other man, distributing among many heirs those which he alone had gathered together. His body was carried to Ripon and buried with great reverence. At the hour in which he breathed his last, the sweet song of birds and the beating of wings flying back towards heaven were heard but not seen. Since this happened repeatedly during that funeral procession, knowledgeable men who were present understood it to be an assembly of angels which had come to the dead man in fulfilment of a promise. A paralysed woman, touched by water in which the garment upon which his body had lain had been washed, recovered firmness in her limbs. When certain men attempted to burn the building in which he had died, the fire shrank back; indeed, a handsome young man was seen driving the flames away. Many years later, after the monastery of Ripon had been destroyed, Wilfrid was carried to Kent, where he is reckoned among the foremost and honoured among the chief.

¹⁴ Nevertheless, to return to the enumeration of the bishops, as though returning to the path after a long digression, when Wilfrid, who was bishop of the whole region of the Northumbrians, was first expelled, as has been said, two were appointed in his place: Bosa at York and Eata at Haugustald. When Eata died, John was ordained in his place. But in the time of King Alfrid, Wilfrid returned to the whole bishopric for five years, John being expelled from Haugustald and Bosa from York. After five years, when Wilfrid was again expelled by Alfrid, they were restored to their sees. After Alfrid’s death, however, Wilfrid was received back into concord and held the see at Haugustald, while John moved to York, since Bosa was already dead. John, a man of exceptional virtues, has Bede as the best-known herald of his deeds in the Deeds of the English. But even now, though dead, he is no less renowned for his miracles. That miracle is particularly famous which the inhabitants of Beverley, where he lies, are accustomed to exhibit as a spectacle: the fiercest bulls, which are brought there bound with the strongest ropes and only with great exertion by powerful men, as soon as they enter the cemetery become so completely calm, all their ferocity subdued, that you would think them sheep in their simplicity. Their bonds are therefore loosened and they are released to play about in the enclosure, though previously they had been accustomed to attack with horns and feet whatever stood in their way.

¹⁵ He was succeeded at York by his own priest Wilfrid, who lived beyond the period covered by Bede. For Bede states that in the year in which he himself died, this Wilfrid was bishop at York. Consequently an insoluble dispute exists between the people of Canterbury and those of York, because the Canterbury side says that it possesses the elder Wilfrid, while the people of York maintain, on the contrary, that this younger Wilfrid was transferred to Kent by Archbishop Odo.

¹⁶ After his death, Egbert, brother of Egberht, king of the same province, shone forth in the episcopal dignity. By both his own prudence and his brother’s power, he restored that see to its proper status. For, as is readily apparent to anyone reading the deeds of the English, Paulinus, when he died at Rochester, left behind the distinction of the pallium. The other bishops of the city after him had aspired to nothing higher than the simple title of bishop. But when Egbert was enthroned, being a man of more spirited character, he reflected that, just as it is arrogant to seek what is not one’s due, so it is cowardly to neglect what is one’s due, and he recovered the pallium by an appeal to the Apostolic See. He was, so to speak, a storehouse of all the liberal arts, and established a most distinguished library at York. As a suitable witness to this I call upon Alewin, who said in a letter to the Emperor Charles: “Give me the more refined books of scholastic learning, such as I had in my homeland through the good and most devoted diligence of my master, Archbishop Egbert. And, if it pleases your Excellency, I shall send some of our boys to collect whatever is necessary from there and bring back to France the flowers of Britain.” He was buried with his brother in one portico at York, after thirty-six years as bishop.

¹⁷ Eanbald, an industrious pupil of the aforementioned Albinus, was appointed in place of Cene, Egbert’s successor. Hence Albinus said in a letter to him: “Praise and glory to God, who has preserved my days in good prosperity, so that I might rejoice in the exaltation of my dearest son, who would labour in my place in the church where I myself had been nurtured and educated, presiding over the treasures of wisdom in which my beloved master, Archbishop Egbert, left me as his heir.” This is the Eanbald who, together with Ethelard, archbishop of Canterbury, through their mutual services of uprightness, brought to nothing the encroachment which Offa, king of the Mercians, had made upon the Church of Canterbury. Albinus seems to refer to this in a letter to the same Adelard, saying: “Hearing of your health and prosperity, and of your meeting with the archbishop of York, my son Eanbald, greatly pleased me, since I hope that through the conversation of your Holiness the unity of the holy Church, which has partly been torn apart not by reasonable consideration but by a certain desire for power, may be joined together again.”

¹⁸ After him these were archbishops: Wlfsius, Wimundus, Wlfere, Ethelbald, Rodewald and Wlstanus. In the time of King Edmund, brother of Ethelstan, Wlstanus earned the king’s anger through his more persistent efforts, because he favoured the Danes when they rebelled against him; and he so provoked the king’s otherwise calm and kindly disposition that the king cast him into chains. But not long afterwards, moved by repentance and regard for reverence due to the clergy, he allowed him to depart unharmed, although Wlstanus, indignant at the pardon granted to him, immediately departed this life.

¹⁹ After him Oskitel attained the rank of this honour and flourished in the times of Kings Edred, Edui and Edgar, and had as his successors Oswald, Aldulf and Wlstan, all of whom were also bishops of Worcester, for the following reason. Oswald, born of no humble family, being in fact the nephew of Archbishop Odo, was made a monk at Fleury in Gaul. It was a familiar custom among the English at that time that, if any were inspired by a good desire, they should receive the monastic habit in the monastery of the most blessed Benedict, from whom this form of religious life had its origin. In this place, therefore, he restrained the instability of youth, devoting himself for many years to religion and learning. And although he was invited by the archbishop, he resisted his frequent letters, pleading the novelty of his habit and his inexperience in the religious life. Nor did he come until late, when he was struck by the news that his uncle was ill and already confined to bed. When, after landing at Dover, he heard that he had died, he came very close to returning immediately to Fleury. But, admonished by his companions that the claims of his relatives ought not to be neglected, after paying the proper rites to the holy archbishop, he went to Oskitel, archbishop of York, who was closely related to him. Captivated by his kindness, he enjoyed his religious fellowship and company for many years. Meanwhile Dunstan, leaving the bishoprics of Worcester and London, passed to Kent. Knowing well the holiness and effectiveness of Oswald, he obtained the bishopric of Worcester for him from the king. Oswald gradually perceived that there was material for goodness in the minds of the clerics living there, if someone knew how to bring it to life by exhortation, and so he did not drive them out violently but outmanoeuvred them by a most holy device. For, because the episcopal see was dedicated to the honour of Saint Peter, he built another church in the same cemetery in the name of the Mother of God. Having placed monks there, he preferred to live with them and to perform the divine offices more familiarly among them. When the people saw this, regarding it as a monstrous wrong to be deprived of the blessings of so religious a bishop, they all flocked there. Thus the clerics, left isolated, preferred to receive the monastic habit rather than be a loss to themselves and a laughing-stock to the people. From that time the key-bearer of paradise gave place to the gatekeeper of heaven [Matthew 16:19], in a beautiful exchange among the inhabitants of heaven, without any jealousy. The spreading report of this won Oswald much friendship with the king and the nobles. On Dunstan’s advice the king filled the vacant see of York with this bishop, a man who, from long familiarity, knew well how to moderate the barbarity of the people. Yet he was not permitted to relinquish the see of Worcester, lest the newly established community of monks should be deprived of the support of its founder. The nobles, eager to show submission to the man, competed in offering estates for the foundation of monasteries which did not yet exist and for the restoration of those which had fallen into decay. Of these I shall speak, when the occasion presents itself, as far as seems appropriate. In addition, he generously supported men distinguished in learning whom he summoned to England, lest he should deprive his homeland of that good without which all other goods seem to me almost empty. One of these was Abbo, a monk of Fleury, who brought a rich harvest of learning into England, at the command of Archbishop Dunstan, gave the Passion of Edmund the Martyr full literary form. Afterwards he returned home and, having been appointed abbot there, diligently maintained the strictness of the religious life. When he attempted to enforce this observance in a certain cell of the monastery of Fleury situated in Gascony, which even today is called Ad Regulam, Gascon ferocity would not endure it, but they killed him with a spear and sent him to heaven. Oswald, meanwhile, adequately serving both bishoprics for many years, came more frequently to Worcester. He survived Dunstan by five years and Athelwold by ten, and inspired such admiration for himself in England that he seemed single-handedly to reproduce them both: the former in authority, the latter in effectiveness, and both in holiness. On the day before his death, standing outside the doors of the church at Worcester, he gazed towards heaven for a long time, weeping with joy. When those who were present asked why he was looking towards heaven with an unwavering gaze, he replied: “Allow me, brothers, to look upon the place to which I intend to go. The laying aside of my body will come swiftly, and the time of my departure is at hand [2 Timothy 4:6].” They marvelled, because he had previously given no indication that he was ill, but had even taken more generous care of his body. But on the following day, when, according to his custom, he had washed the feet of the poor and was saying the hymn, “Glory to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit,” he was deprived of the breath of life while still kneeling. He was then buried in the church of blessed Mary and, after twelve years, when signs had been divinely revealed, he was raised from the earth. What sort of miracle it is that, although his whole body has been consumed into dust, the priestly vestment in which he had been clothed has suffered no damage from decay even to this day, must be left to divine judgement. He was succeeded in both sees by Aldulf, formerly abbot of Burch, a holy and venerable man, as they relate. In his case it is forgiven on account of his holiness that, contrary to the rules of the canons, he held two sees, since he did this not from ambition but from necessity. It was not so with Wlstan, who differed from him both in holiness and in character. Aldulf lies at Worcester, and deserves praise even from the monastery of Fleury because of the abundance of gifts with which he strove to emulate Oswald’s generosity. After Wlstan, Elfric received the see of York, and Lefsius that of Worcester. Elfric lived in the time of Cnut and Hardacnut, and is regarded as detestable in this respect: on his advice Hardacnut ordered the body of his brother Harold to be dug up, its head cut off, and, as an infamous example to mortals, thrown into the Thames. Moreover, being hostile towards the people of Worcester because they had rejected him as bishop, he persuaded Hardacnut, because they had resisted the collectors of the royal taxes too stubbornly, to burn the city and strip away the possessions of its citizens. Elfric was succeeded by Kinsius. Aldred in turn succeeded him, having previously been a monk at Winchester and then bishop of Worcester. Taking advantage of King Edward’s simplicity, and appealing to the custom of his predecessors more on the grounds of money than of reason, he accepted the archbishopric of York without relinquishing his former see. Having arranged his plans with the king, he proceeded to Rome, accompanied by two bishops-elect, Giso of Wells and Walter of Hereford, as well as Tostin, earl of the Northumbrians. Pope Nicholas received the earl graciously and caused him to sit beside him at the synod which he had convened against the simoniacs. He granted Giso and Walter what they sought, since they possessed learning that was by no means contemptible and had been marked by no disgrace of simony. But Aldred, found guilty on both counts by his own reply, was sternly stripped of every honour. Thus, as they returned with differing outcomes, one common misfortune overtook them all. For robbers attacked them and stripped them of everything down to the value of a single coin, apart from the simple clothes they wore, so that they fled back to Rome with only their bodies unharmed. This calamity gave Aldred an opportunity to recover his honours. Tostin too assailed the pope with grievous verbal abuse and brought him round to the judgement he desired. His excommunication, he said, was little to be feared by distant peoples when nearby robbers mocked it. He raged against suppliants but had little power against rebels. Either what belonged to them must be restored through his authority, or it must be acknowledged that it had been lost through his negligence. When the king of the English heard of this, he would withdraw the tribute of Saint Peter because of Nicholas’s conduct, and Tostin himself would not fail to exaggerate the truth of the matter. Terrified by this thunderbolt of threats, the Romans persuaded the pope to restore the archbishopric and the pallium to Aldred; it would be impious, they said, if he returned to his homeland both dishonoured and plundered. The pope did what reason advised, adding this measure of moderation: that a bishop of its own should be appointed to the see of Worcester. They therefore went home unharmed, consoled for their former loss by the pope’s great generosity, which was lavishly extended to them all. Roman legates followed them on their departure and, with Aldred’s consent, ordained the most holy Wlstan bishop of Worcester. For no good man would receive the episcopal office from Stigand, who at that time was archbishop of Canterbury in name only, since he had not entered the sheepfold through the door [John 10:1]. Although he was frequently summoned by the Apostolic See, he evaded everything, now by delays and now by gifts, until King William came, whom no cunning evasion could corrupt. William openly marked Stigand as disreputable by refusing to receive from him the sacrament of royal blessing. Aldred, when asked, performed the consecration, first exacting an oath before all the people that William would behave moderately towards his subjects and would treat the English with the same justice as the French. Accordingly, for as long as William showed moderation towards his people, Aldred loved him as a son and revered him as a king. But when the king demanded an unbearable burden of tribute from the inhabitants of the province, the bishop approached him through envoys. When William admitted them only with difficulty and dismissed them with an angry reply, Aldred did not delay but hurled the weapon of his curse against him and all his offspring, declaring that he could rightly give a curse, since he had wrongly given a blessing. When this was reported to the king, he was softened by the admonitions of his friends and sent men to entreat the bishop. But the bishop’s death had overtaken the messengers, for, as often happens, he had contracted an illness from distress of mind, taken to his bed and died. The freedom of his spirit shone out splendidly in a single saying, which I shall give in English because the Latin words do not correspond as neatly as the English. Urs was the sheriff of Worcester appointed by the king, and he built a castle almost at the very throats of the monks, so that its ditch cut away part of the cemetery. A complaint was brought to the archbishop, who was protector of the bishopric. When he saw Urs, he addressed him in these words: “You are called Urs; have God’s curse.” Playing elegantly but harshly upon the sound of the names in these words, he said: “You are called Urs; have the curse of God, and”—what I did not include in the English—“mine and that of all consecrated heads, unless you remove the castle from here. And know for certain that your offspring will not long inherit the land of Saint Mary.” He foretold things that were to be fulfilled, and we see that they have been fulfilled. For not many years later his son Roger, having inherited his father’s possessions, was driven from them through the severe indignation of King Henry, because in a fit of headlong fury he had ordered one of the royal servants to be killed.

²⁰ After Aldred’s death and burial at York, the disaster which I foretold followed immediately, inflicted by order of King William. At that time all the native nobility withered away, cut down by the scythe of war; for long before, in the time of the Danes, the monasteries which had shone throughout the whole province like stars had been destroyed. Their half-ruined walls still stand, not as a delight to the eye but as a memorial of sorrow. There was once at Wearmouth a monastery, a famous school of Bede and many learned men. There was Streneshalh, distinguished by its choir of holy virgins and by the tombs of blessed bishops and illustrious kings; now called Whitby, it is awakening its half-slumbering ashes to life through the efforts of certain men. Recently the bodies of saints have been discovered there and raised to honour: those of Bishop Trumwin, King Oswiu, and his daughter Elfled, who presided over that monastery after Hilda, as well as that monk whom Bede relates to have received the knowledge of song by divine gift. That his merit before God was no ordinary one is indicated by the many miracles which, as they say, have lately been sent down from above. I therefore necessarily refrain from reviewing the monasteries of that province, because the ancient ones have been entirely destroyed, while the new ones, if there are any, are still unknown. Nor in this work have I undertaken to enumerate every monastery throughout England, but only those of greater fame and higher glory because they contain the bodies of native saints. Added to this is the fact that the antiquity of some has hidden them from our knowledge, while the recent foundation of others has done the same; in some cases the remoteness of the province is responsible, in others the obscurity of the saints resting in them because of the rarity of their miracles. Although necessity therefore denies all these the service of my pen, they will little regret my silence when at some future time they have been made known either by the will of God or through their own efforts. Meanwhile, while we remain this province, it occurred to me not to pass over in silence the names of the bishops of Haugustald and of Candida Casa, which in English is called Witerne. For since they were formerly subject to the archbishopric of York and did not extend into our own period, they rightly do not occupy a place of their own in this account. Let them therefore slip quietly among the archbishops, so that, joined to their company, they may not be deprived of remembrance.

²¹ Hengstaldeheim is the name of a place situated fifteen miles from York. It belonged to the royal estate when Wilfrid of blessed memory exchanged other possessions for it with the most blessed Queen Etheldrida. There he raised buildings with walls of imposing height, winding around through various turns by means of spiral stairways, and adorned them to a marvellous degree. Much was done according to his own judgement, but also through the skill of masons whom the hope of generous payment had attracted from Rome. It was then widely reported among the people, and was even committed to writing, that nowhere on this side of the Alps was there such a building. Even now those who come from Rome make the same claim, so that those who see the structure at Haugustald swear that they imagine themselves looking upon Roman splendour. So little have the injuries of so many ages and wars taken away the beauty of the buildings. Wilfrid was the first bishop there. When he was violently expelled, Eata, Tumbert and John were appointed in succession. But when Wilfrid returned and, after recovering his see, died, he was succeeded by Acca, a man especially diligent and holy. Bede is a suitable witness to both qualities, since at Acca’s prompting and with his support he composed many volumes, as is well known. Nevertheless, I have learned from the chronicles that Acca enjoyed no happier fortune than his master, and that three years after Bede’s death he was driven from his see, though it is uncertain whether he returned. Fredebert succeeded Acca; Tilbert succeeded him; and Ethelbrihte succeeded Tilbert. To him and his community belongs a letter of Albinus, in which, among other things, he says: “O most noble offspring of holy fathers, successors to their honour and venerable life, and inhabitants of most beautiful places, follow in the footsteps of your fathers, so that from these most beautiful dwellings you may merit to attain to fellowship in the eternal blessedness of those who begot you.” After Ethelbriht there were only three bishops of Haugustald: Herdred, Eanberht and Tidfrid. For the army of the Danes, which was already feared in the time of Albinus, as we have said elsewhere and shall say again, came and, after killing or driving away the inhabitants, set fire to the roofs of their dwellings and exposed their hidden places to the sky. Hengsteldeham is now an estate of the archbishop of York.

²² White House is the name of a place on the furthest borders of the English beside Scotia, where the blessed confessor Ninia rests, a Briton by nation, who was the first there to preach the gospel of Christ. The place took its name from his work, because there he built a church of polished stone, a marvel to the Britons. Antiquity knew this holy Ninia to be illustrious for his miracles, as Albinus writes in a letter to the brethren of that place, saying: “I beg the united devotion of your piety to keep the memory of my name in the church of your most holy father, Bishop Ninia, who was renowned for many miracles, as has recently been conveyed to me in verses of metrical art which were sent to us by our faithful disciples, scholars of the Church of York; in them I recognised both the learning of the composer and the holiness shown by the miracles.” There, towards the end of Bede’s time, Pehtelmus was made the first bishop; long before that, while living in West Saxony, he had been privileged to be a disciple of the most holy Aldelm. He was followed by Frithewald, Pectwine, Ethelbribt and Beadulf. I find no more anywhere after these, because the bishopric soon came to an end, since, as I have said, it lies at the furthest edge of the English and is exposed to devastation by the Scots or Picts. Having therefore gone through these matters, which it was not my intention to omit, the narrative will return to York.

²³ In the year 1070 from the Incarnation of the Lord, Thomas, a canon of Bayeux, was appointed archbishop of York by King William, and remained in that dignity for thirty years. Upright throughout his life, there was nothing either in his deeds or his words that deserves reproach, except that at the beginning of his archiepiscopate, in the dispute concerning the primacy of Canterbury, he contended more through error than stubbornness. The outcome of this matter was fully related in the first book of the Deeds of the Bishops. Distinguished by elegance and imposing presence, he was a delight to those who saw him: as a young man, remarkable for the strength and proportion of his limbs; as an old man, with a lively colour in his face and swan-white hair. By his generosity he caused grief to his successors, since, as they say, through excessive liberality he alienated a large part of the episcopal lands for the use of clerics. He gathered together a clergy well provided with resources and learning; he completed the church which had been begun from its foundations. No malicious rumour ever stained his celibacy. In learning he could be compared with the ancient philosophers, yet he was not proud. He was gracious in speech and countenance, gentle in character. Nor was he inferior in song or voice, and he composed many ecclesiastical chants. If anyone within his hearing performed anything vocal in the art of minstrelsy, he would immediately adapt it into divine praises. Above all he took care that the clerics should have a masculine style of music in church, and should not, by effeminately breaking up anything, “trip up their words with a tender palate”, as Persius says. Thus, abundantly full of years, worldly honour and the grace of God, he died in the first year of King Henry, in November, having previously crowned him king in August because of the absence of the archbishop of Canterbury.

²⁴ Without delay Girard, nephew of Walkelin, bishop of Winchester, who was himself bishop of Hereford, was elected and installed as archbishop. While he hesitated to submit to the primate of Canterbury, Pope Paschal sent him the following letter.

²⁵ “Paschal the pope, servant of the servants of God, to his venerable brother Girard, bishop of York, greeting and apostolic blessing. Although we are well aware that you have acted wrongly against us, or rather against your mother, the holy Roman Church, nevertheless by this present letter we command you not to neglect to make your profession to our venerable brother Anselm, archbishop of Canterbury. For we have heard that Thomas, your former predecessor, raised a dispute over this same matter, and that when it was debated in the presence of Lord Pope Alexander the Second, after various investigations and a judgement given at his command, he made that same profession to Lanfranc, his predecessor, and to his successors. Therefore we too desire, by God’s authority, that what was determined at that time should be preserved firm and inviolate.”

²⁶ Girard did not read this letter which had been sent to him, because there was no need. He had anticipated the apostolic command, at the king’s urging, had given Anselm his pledge that in the archbishopric of York he would observe towards him the same profession which he had made in the bishopric of Hereford. The wickedness for which the pope censures him was this: when he returned from Rome with the pallium, he infected the Apostolic See with his own falsehood, telling the king that, if he conducted himself ecclesiastically in other respects, the pope would calmly tolerate his making investitures of churches. He was not unlearned in letters and was expansive in eloquence. He died unexpectedly, having previously been touched by an illness, though a slight one. For while somewhat unwell he was lying in a certain garden beside his house, so that he might enjoy outdoors the healthier air, enlivened by the flowers of herbs breathing sweetly, he ordered those standing by to withdraw into the house, intending meanwhile to attend to the needs of his body. They went away, and after their meal returned and wept over their lifeless lord. Would that rumour had invented these things, and that a man endowed with episcopal grace had not died in such a way. Certainly the canons of York most stubbornly resisted his burial in the church, and scarcely allowed his corpse to be covered with an undistinguished patch of turf before its doors. Nevertheless, after some years Thomas, his successor, softened the indignity of the deed and buried him most honourably in the church beside his predecessors. Thomas was the son of Samson, bishop of Worcester. When, after being elected to the archbishopric, he was invited by Anselm, according to custom, to come to Canterbury to receive his consecration, he at first replied graciously. He gave thanks for being summoned, but asked for a postponement, saying that so great a ceremony required immense expense. When summoned a second time, he replied that he was constrained by force and by the arguments of his clerics. When approached a third time, even through the bishops of London and Rochester, he refused altogether. Therefore, when Anselm had informed Pope Paschal of Thomas’s position, and the failing strength of his own body was hastening his journey to heaven, he wrote a letter to Thomas, and also sent a separate copy under his seal to each of the bishops of England, so that they might know how they ought to act towards Thomas.

²⁷ “Anselm, minister of the Church of Canterbury, to Thomas, archbishop-elect of York. To you, Thomas, in the sight of Almighty God, I, Anselm, archbishop of Canterbury and primate of all Britain, speak on God’s behalf. I forbid you to exercise the priestly office which, at my command, you received within my province from my suffragan bishop; and I command you not to presume in any way to involve yourself in any pastoral charge until you abandon the rebellion which you have begun against the Church of Canterbury and profess to it the subjection which your predecessors, namely Archbishops Thomas and Girard, professed in accordance with the ancient custom of their predecessors. But if you choose to persist in what you have begun rather than desist from it, I forbid all the bishops of all Britain, under perpetual anathema, either to lay hands upon you for advancement to the episcopate or, if you are advanced by bishops from abroad, to receive you as a bishop or admit you to any Christian communion. Likewise, Thomas, under the same anathema and on God’s behalf, I forbid you ever to receive the consecration of the bishopric of York unless you first make the profession which your predecessors Thomas and Girard made to the Church of Canterbury. But if you relinquish the bishopric of York altogether, I permit you to exercise the priestly office which you have already received.”

²⁸ The king was then in Normandy. When he returned to the kingdom, he began to examine the case. Anselm’s letter of prohibition was read before him and was accepted and approved by all the bishops of England, although the Count of Meulan attempted to interpret their acceptance of it as contempt for royal power. So great, however, was the agreement of the bishops in this matter, with even Thomas’s father, the bishop of Worcester, offering no opposition, that they preferred to be stripped of every honour rather than transgress the commands of their father Anselm. The king’s assent confirmed their religious resolve when he added: “Whatever judgement others may give, I have no wish whatever to lie under Father Anselm’s excommunication even for an hour. Therefore, since in addition to Anselm’s letter there are privileges of the Apostolic See, and decisions established before my father and mother with the counsel of the whole kingdom, upon which the authority of the Church of Canterbury rests, let Thomas choose either to make his submission to the Church of Canterbury or to bid farewell to the bishopric.” He yielded not to reason but to power; and, after making his profession of submission to the Church of Canterbury, he received from the minister, namely Richard, bishop of London, what he had refused to receive from the master. He therefore regretted too late the ease with which he had trusted his clerics, carrying for the rest of his life a deeply wounded conscience because he had been deprived of Anselm’s blessing.

²⁹ At that time there was in England a certain Cardinal Odolric, who had brought the pallium of the Church of York, to be bestowed according to Anselm’s counsel. But when he found that Anselm had already died, he was uncertain in his mind what he should do. When every controversy had therefore been settled through the king’s authority, it was decreed that the pallium should be carried to York by the same cardinal. This was done, and Thomas, invested with the pallium, was raised to the archbishopric. He was believed to have been free from relations with women, and indeed from every kind of obscenity, from his youth onwards. Generous to everyone according to his means, he was notable for preaching piety and for his favour towards clerics. He died young, having held the rank for scarcely four years.

³⁰ Turstan succeeded him, a cleric of remarkable constancy. Some years after his election, when he refused to make a profession to Ralph, archbishop of Canterbury, he voluntarily resigned the archbishopric at the king’s wish. But afterwards, at the urging of his clerics, he travelled to Rome and obtained the following letter.

³¹ “Paschal, bishop, servant of the servants of God, to his beloved son Henry, illustrious king of the English, greeting and apostolic blessing. By God’s authority, we trust in your uprightness not merely for good things but for better ones. Therefore we admonish your Excellency always to be mindful of divine grace, which has granted you both peace for your kingdom and knowledge of justice. Therefore diligently preserve the honour of God and of his churches in your kingdom, and effectively carry out justice, because through the honour of God your own honour will assuredly be increased. We have heard that the elect of the Church of York, a wise and vigorous man, has been separated from the Church of York without judgement; this is plainly contrary to divine justice and to the ordinances of the holy fathers. We wish neither the Church of Canterbury to be diminished nor the Church of York to suffer prejudice, but we decree that the settlement established between those churches by blessed Gregory, apostle of the English people, should be preserved firm and inviolate. Therefore, as justice requires, the same elect is by every means to be restored to his church. But if any dispute arises between those churches, let it be examined in our presence, with both parties present.”

³² Relying on this letter, Turstan gladly returned to his see. Meanwhile the division between him and Archbishop Ralph increased day by day, because Ralph could not be induced by any entreaties or threats to lay hands upon him unless he made the profession, while Turstan declared that he would not do so even at the risk of his life. They therefore both resolved to meet Gelasius, the successor of Pope Paschal, as he came to this side of the mountains, in order to present the defence of their respective cases. But the pope’s death, which was not long delayed, checked their efforts until Calixtus, who had succeeded him, came to Rheims to celebrate a council. Turstan hastened there energetically, having promised the king that he would attempt nothing against the honour of the Church of Canterbury. As soon as he saw an opportunity, however, he forgot and broke that promise, receiving episcopal consecration from the pope contrary to all the customs of his predecessors. Before Turstan had reached the pope, the king’s envoy, who was also Ralph’s brother, Sefred, afterwards bishop of Chichester, had gone ahead to inform the pope that under no circumstances should he either consecrate Turstan himself or permit him to be consecrated by anyone except the bishop of Canterbury, according to ancient custom. And if the pope wished to rely upon the authority of his apostolic office against this, he should know for certain that the king would not change his determination in this matter even at the cost of losing his crown. The pope replied: “Let the king not think that I shall act in the matter of which he speaks otherwise than he wishes. For my will has never inclined me in any way to diminish the dignity of the Church of Canterbury, over which so many illustrious fathers have presided, as is known to almost the whole world.” Persuaded by these reassuring words, the envoy hastened his return. After his departure, the pope, yielding to the demands of the Romans, who had become Turstan’s friends, consecrated him, although John, archdeacon of Canterbury, openly forbade it. The pope answered him: “We wish to do no injustice to the Church of Canterbury, but, with its justice and dignity preserved, we shall carry out what we have proposed.” Those who heard this judged it worthless, since the deed disagreed with the words.

³³ When the king heard this, he barred Turstan from every land under his rule. He would not relax this severity even when the pope personally appealed to him at Gisors, declaring that by the authority of blessed Peter he would release the king from the oath by which the king said he was bound. Since this achieved nothing, the matter remained unsettled for the time being. But in the following year, when the aforementioned pope, now firmly established in the Apostolic See, could dispose matters more freely as he wished, he sent a letter commanding that either Turstan should possess his bishopric or the king should be punished with anathema and the bishop of Canterbury with suspension from the priestly office. This fear compelled the king to abandon his undertaking, and Turstan was received into his see. Thus, although Ralph and his successor William attempted much and poured forth many arguments, Turstan by his persistence dissolved all their claims and rendered them ineffective. He died most holily after four years had passed from the death of King Henry, having first renounced his bishopric and become a monk at Pontefract, a cell of Cluny.

On the Bishops of Durham. #

¹ Of all the bishoprics which were once situated in Northumbria and acknowledged the primacy of York, only that which was at Lindisfarne has remained. Lindisfarne is a small island, now called Holy Island by the people of the province, which the most holy Aidan, a lover of solitude and holy poverty, chose as the seat of his bishopric, scorning the crowded splendour of York. His successors followed the man’s simplicity and modesty: Finan, Colman, Tuda and Eata. Then came the most renowned and outstanding Cuthbert, who still rests with his body uncorrupted, and who alone has merited this grace, that the incorruption of his body has never even been called into question. Elbert, who by the distinction of his exceptional holiness merited to be buried in the tomb in which his predecessor of most blessed memory had lain for eleven years with his body intact, himself foretold the approach of his own death and burial when the most sacred vestments were brought to him, which after being buried for so many years had escaped the corruption of decay. Bede treats these matters at great length in the Life of Blessed Cuthbert. Edfrid followed, at whose command request the same historian celebrated the blessed Cuthbert both in rhetorical prose and in the sweetness of verse. Then came Ethelwold, Cinewlf and Higebald. In Higebald’s time the Danes ravaged the island, so that they did not spare even the sacred altars, as is made clear by Albinus’s letter to him in these words:

² “Alchuin the deacon, greeting to Higebald, bishop and excellent son in Christ of the most blessed father Bishop Cuthbert, and to the whole community of the Church of Lindisfarne. Your affectionate friendship used greatly to gladden me when I was present with you, but now, though I am absent, the calamity of your tribulation greatly saddens me, because the pagans have defiled the sanctuaries of God, poured out the blood of the saints around the altar, and trampled the bodies of the saints in the temple ’like dung in the street’ [Psalm 79:1-3]. What confidence can the churches of Britain have if Saint Cuthbert, with so great a company of saints, does not defend his own church?” And so forth, in which he exhorts them not to degenerate from the conduct of their predecessors and disfigure the dignity of their profession by luxury in clothing and intemperance in eating. Such things had happened because of transgression of the divine law, and worse things would follow if they thought fit to persist in what was forbidden. He also adds at the end of the letter: “When our lord King Charles returns home, his enemies having been subdued through the mercy of God, we intend, with God’s help, to go to him; and if we are then able to accomplish anything concerning either the boys who were carried into captivity by the pagans or your other needs, we shall diligently take care to bring it to effect.”

³ Likewise to King Ethelred: “Look, the church of Saint Cuthbert, sprinkled with the blood of God’s priests and stripped of all its ornaments, a place more venerable than any other in Britain, is given over to be ravaged by pagan peoples. And where, after Saint Paulinus’s departure from York, the Christian religion first took its beginning among the people of the Northumbrians, there misery and calamity have begun.”

⁴ For this reason, after careful deliberation, it was decreed that the bodies of the saints should be transferred from that island, which lay exposed to the attacks of maritime raiders, to the mainland. At that time, when certain men attempted, by what they considered a pious theft, to carry the blessed body of the great Cuthbert across to Ireland, they lost the fruit of their labour, for either they waited many days on the shore for a wind, or, when a somewhat stronger breeze carried them out to sea, they were immediately driven back. Therefore, with due honour, they deposited the sacred body at Ubbenford, near the River Twda, though it is uncertain whether this was the seat of the bishopric. It lay there for many years, until the coming of King Ethelred. Yet meanwhile he was not idle in assisting the people of the province, but ranged throughout all England by means of his miracles. If I relate one of these, I think I shall not do so without good reason. It was all the more remarkable because, being manifested in a most distinguished person, it restored liberty to all England cast off its servitude.

⁵ King Elfred had been reduced by the assaults of the barbarians to such poverty that he lay hidden without glory on a very small island called Adelingenie. I spoke above of this island in the Deeds of the Bishops of Wells. There, then, one day, while he lay asleep indoors—for anguish of mind had imposed sleep upon him—and his companions were scattered along the riverbank, look, blessed Cuthbert addressed him in his sleep: “I am Cuthbert, formerly bishop of Lindisfarne. God has sent me to announce good fortune to you. For because England has long been paying an excessive penalty for its sins, now at last, through the merits of its native saints, he looks upon it with the eye of his mercy. You too, so miserably driven from your kingdom, will after a short time be gloriously restored to the throne. And I shall give you a remarkable sign of this. Today your fishermen will come carrying in baskets a great quantity of large fish. This will be all the more wonderful because in these days the frozen water, hardened over the lake, allows no such thing to be hoped for. Moreover, the air dripping with icy moisture frustrates every skill of the fishermen. But when you truly possess favourable fortune, you will act as a king should if you honour with fitting devotion God your helper and me, his messenger.” Saying this, the saint relieved the sleeping king of his anxieties and comforted his mother, who was lying nearby, with the joy of the same message. When they both awoke, they repeatedly declared that they had dreamed one and the same thing, until the fishermen entered with an innumerable quantity of fish and confirmed the truth of the dream. Not long afterwards he recovered both his kingdom and the glory of his kingdom, as we have related more fully in his deeds. These succeeded Hignbald: Egbert, Erdulf, Cutheard, Milred, Wihtred, Uhtred, Sexhelm, Aldred, Assius, Aldhun and Edmund, who was made bishop by a most remarkable occurrence. For in former times, under the English, the election of bishops and abbots belonged to the clerics and monks. Monks did not serve at the body of Saint Cuthbert, although the bishops were customarily monks, following the example of that most holy father, who as a monk had presided over clerics. When Bishop Aldhun died, therefore, the clerics sat together deliberating about the election of their future ruler and, as happens in such matters, because the parties were divided, reached no definite decision. Then Edmund, whom no one had thought of summoning, came upon them while they were hesitating and, using his customary humour, said: “Take me and make me bishop.” They all, as though their spirits had been kindled by God, seized upon the words from his mouth as though they were a divine oracle. Although he was astonished and regretted what he had said, being a man who would have preferred the play of a ball to the use of a monk’s cowl, they made him a monk and petitioned King Egelred, who was then reigning, to make him their bishop. This jest turned out to be a fortunate omen, as the inhabitants of the place relate. For the king graciously granted what was requested, and favourable divine providence fulfilled what was hoped for. Under that bishop the prosperity of the church advanced greatly in every respect. The holy body was brought to Durham. A basilica was completed there from its foundations. Many other things were also accomplished which treacherous oblivion will never erase from the memory of the citizens in any age. Durham is a hill rising gradually from the level ground of a valley and swelling by a gentle slope into a summit. Although its elevated position and steep rocks shut out every approach by enemies, modern inhabitants have nevertheless placed a castle upon its heights. At the foot of the castle flows a river rich in fish, as are most, indeed almost all, the rivers of Northumbria. For fish are so abundant in the western and northern parts of England that peasants feed their pigs with fish they have thrown aside.

⁶ After Edmund came Edred, Egelwin and Egelric. The last of these, under King William, was accused of rebellion because he had disturbed the king’s peace by engaging in piracy, and was carried off to Westminster in perpetual exile. There, for as long as he lived, diminishing and washing away his former offences by voluntary fasting and an abundance of tears, he acquired among men a reputation for holiness. Indeed, through the memory handed down to posterity by those who saw him, even today his tomb is not without either the prayers or the crowds of those who seek it.

⁷ Walker was appointed over the see while Egelric was still alive, so that he might be both governor of the province and bishop, restraining the rebellion of the people with the sword and shaping their conduct by his words. While diligently carrying out this duty, he was undeservedly killed, giving the king occasion to exterminate completely the remnants of that province, which had begun to recover somewhat. The cause of his murder was this. The bishop had placed his kinsman Gillebert in charge of secular affairs and the cleric Leobin in charge of his household affairs, both energetic in the matters entrusted to them, but unrestrained. The bishop tolerated their immoderate behaviour because he was influenced by their efficiency, and because he had raised them to their positions, he increased the measure of his favour towards them. For nature is indulgent towards itself and looks with kindly favour upon its own gifts. This Leobin caused Gillebert to murder Liulf, a servant of the most blessed Cuthbert, who was so beloved by the saint that Cuthbert himself, appearing before him while he was awake, would make his wishes known to him. Leobin, I say, caused him to be killed through Gillebert, being struck with envy because Liulf, on account of his knowledge and the fairness of his judgements, enjoyed a place of greater friendship with the bishop. Stricken by the news, Walker offered the enraged kindred of the dead man the judgement of a lawful hearing, declaring that Leobin had been the cause of his own destruction and that of his followers. When they came to the hearing, no arguments could soften the savage people, who laid the blame upon the bishop because they had seen both murderers living familiarly at his court after Liulf’s death. They therefore rose in shouting and anger, and Gillebert, voluntarily leaving the church in which he had been sitting with the bishop, intending by his own peril to purchase his lord’s life, was impiously killed. The bishop too, standing before the doors and holding out a branch as a sign of peace, was put to death. Leobin also, the source of the evil, half-burned because he had refused to leave except when the church was set on fire, leapt out and was met by a thousand spears. This had been foretold by Queen Edgitha, widow of King Edward. When she saw Walker being led to his consecration at Winchester, with milk-white hair, a rosy face and very great stature, she said, “Here we have a handsome martyr,” being led to this prediction, evidently, by her knowledge of the immoderate character of the people. Such was the end of Walker’s life, a man neither undisciplined nor unlearned, who restored to the customs of clerics the canons who had become accustomed to monastic service because they had always had a monk as bishop.

⁸ He was succeeded by William, formerly abbot of Saint Karilef, who established monks at Durham. He was powerful in secular affairs and fluent in speech, especially under the younger King William. For this reason, although he was numbered among the king’s friends and made a prelate of England, he did not remain in favour. For although no words or deeds of the prince against him were evident, he withdrew from his friendship and involved himself in the treachery of Odo of Bayeux and the others. Consequently, when their party was defeated, he was driven from England, but after two years returned through the prince’s indulgence. Having therefore recovered his bishopric, he diligently sought to regain his former favour. Having observed the king’s disposition, wherever he thought the king wished matters to turn, he too would turn. Hence it came about that, in the storm which arose between Anselm and William, he, as standard-bearer, stirred up the greatest disturbances against the archbishop, hoping, as they say, either to win the king’s favour or, once Anselm had been expelled, to become archbishop himself. But he failed in both. For not long afterwards, when a dispute arose between him and the king, he fell ill at Gloucester. The royal court was there at the time, and the bishop was ordered to appear so that he might defend his case. When the reply was given that illness prevented him from coming, the king said, “By the Face of Lucca, he is pretending.” In truth, however, he had been seized by a genuine illness and was approaching death. When the assembled bishops had judged that he should be buried in the church of Durham, which he himself had begun on a magnificent scale, he gathered his strength and breathed out these words: “God forbid that on my account the reverence due to my lord Saint Cuthbert should be altered or diminished, for in honour of him none of my predecessors has ever been buried in the church. But place me in the chapter house.” After his death, therefore, he was carried to Durham, where among the monks he has a splendid memorial to his industry, because he both gathered them together and adorned the church with books as well as other ornaments. Moreover, he raised the prior of the place to this distinction, that throughout the whole bishopric he should be dean and vicedominus.

⁹ When Turgot, whom he had appointed prior, exercised this authority rather strictly, he so provoked Ranulf, William’s successor, that, after Turgot had been transferred to the bishopric of Saint Andrews in Scotia, Ranulf thought that no other prior should be appointed. This was Ranulf, formerly chaplain to King William, a man of uncertain origin, who through his eloquence and cunning rose to the highest position and became administrator of the whole kingdom. Whenever a royal edict was issued requiring England to pay a specified tax, he would add twice as much. The king would then laugh and say that he was the only man who knew how to exercise his ingenuity in this way, and that he cared nothing for the hatred of others provided he pleased his lord. Relying upon these arts, he obtained the bishopric of Durham. He therefore came to Durham and at first behaved rather cautiously, fearing to offend the Saint, who is said to be an especially severe chastiser of sinners. But after committing one offence and then another without being punished, he went so far that, whenever an accused man fled for refuge to the Saint’s church, he did not hesitate to drag him out, daring a crime unheard of throughout all preceding years. Yet through the monks’ new buildings and the translation of the most blessed Cuthbert he contrived some glory for his own name. The elevation of the sacred body therefore enhanced his reputation, for he caused it to be raised from its tomb and made visible to all who wished to see it. Ralph, then abbot of Sées and afterwards archbishop of Canterbury, handled it with fortunate boldness and openly brought it forth uncorrupted, since some had come to doubt whether the miracle of the body’s intact condition, proclaimed long before, still endured. All the vestments too shone with fresh splendour; there was a chalice upon his breast, its upper part of gold and its lower part of onyx. His face was so tightly wrapped in a cloth that no effort by the abbot could loosen it. The head of King and Martyr Oswald was found between his arms. The bones of Saints Bede and King Celwulf, who had been a monk and a saint at Lindisfarne, were found in separate linen bags. There was a great spectacle in the cemetery under a clear sky, with no thick mass of clouds overhead, while the monks were all dressed in their solemn vestments. There was a long procession of people going and returning, and a great press of those crowding forward, since after seeing it once they delighted to see it again and again. But, as is believed, the Saint considered it unworthy that he should be exposed in this way as a spectacle, and a great rainstorm suddenly arose and drove everyone inside the church. Nor was it without a miracle that, although so great a storm poured down, the monks’ vestments were not only unharmed but not even wet.

¹⁰ Well done in your virtue, most holy bishop! A wholly splendid miracle, and one worthy of your holiness, for only a few days before you had displayed another. Everything had been prepared in the new church for the translation of the body: the monks’ choir, the altar and the tomb. They were waiting only for the timber framework supporting the newly built vault of the presbytery to be gently taken down. But you, most blessed one, would not allow the holy desire of your people to be prolonged, and in the dead of night you brought it all crashing down. For who else could have been the author of so great a deed? The prior, roused by the noise, ran there, fearing for the altar and the pavement. He was less concerned about the timber. But you had preserved not only those things for which he feared, but even the timbers themselves as intact as when they had been put in place. Rightly, therefore, are you feared by your monks, so that no one conscious either of rebellion against the prior or of a serious offence within himself dares to spend the night there while guilty of a sin that he has not confessed. Therefore I humbly beg you to deign to remember me for good, for whenever the opportunity presented itself I was unwilling to omit your praise, however slight my praise may be, O holy lord and deservedly beloved father!

Here Ends Book Three. #