Æthelthryth, Etheldreda, and Audrey

You may have noticed that multiple names are often used for the saint of Ely — Æthelthryth, Etheldreda, and Audrey, and that I tend to favor the last.

I can see calling her Æthelthryth as that was the Old English name she was actually known by. The problem with this name for a saint that is still actively known at Ely and elsewhere is that few know who to pronounce it and most can’t spell it. It would be helpful if an Anglo-Saxonist would comment here on the how it should be pronounced.

Etheldreda is derived from the Latin version of the name Æthelthryth. The Life of Wilfrid spells her name Aethiltrythae* and Bede spells it Aedilthrydam*! The Liber Eliensis gives her name as Æđeldređe*. We seem to have a process of the đs being converted to ‘d’s and converting the ‘try’ of the Life of Wilfrid to ‘dry’. This is probably wrong but perhaps some nice Latinist will correct me (please do!). Anyway, Etheldreda evolved from these Latin forms. As Latin was the language of the church for nearly a thousand years, this is the form of her name used in liturgy. Unfortunately, even though the Anglican liturgies are all now in English (or the vernacular language of the area), Ely Cathedral still uses Etheldreda as the form of her name. When it comes to modern pronunciation and spelling, Etheldreda isn’t much better than Æthelthryth. It also forms a distinct disconnect between St. Æthelthryth and the modern form of her name, Audrey.

The name Audrey first appears, as far as I know, in Marie’s Vie Seinte Audree. It is unclear though if this is necessarily a French adaption. The South English Legendary (14th century) spells her name Aeldri*! The hardest part for me to see naturally occurring is the Æ/Ethel to Aud but such things did seem to happen, perhaps from Edri? Anyway, Audrey is the form of the name that evolved from Æthelthryth. I prefer it because it is pronounceable, easy to spell and the version given to girls today. Not many Americans know that a St. Audrey exists, much less that she is the source of the name.

* Spellings come from quotes in Blanton’s Signs of Devotion previously reviewed.

PW: St Huna, Priest of Ely

Huna isn’t recorded until the Liber Eliensis (LE, Book of Ely, 12th century) and by Marie de France in her Vie Seinte Audree (late 12th century).

Huna was a priest at Ely and Æthelthryth’s personal chaplain, whose advice on her salvation she valued and who taught her the teachings and deeds of the saints (LE i.15, 18). According to the Liber Eliensis (i.22), he was the priest who presided at her funeral. It claims that he joined her at Ely where he took his vows. After her death, he left Ely to become a hermit on an island in the fens called Huneia. He was considered a holy man and his grave on the small island was known for producing healing miracles. Both the LE and Marie refer to him as a saint. His grave was opened before the 12th century and his coffin was moved to Thorney by people wanting easier access to his healing miracles. St Botulph’s relics were also relocated to Thorney under the orders of Cnut, so that St Huna was in the company of one of the major East Anglian saints. His feast day is celebrated today on February 13th.

The LE and Marie de France both link Huna with Ymma, Owine, and others who served Queen Æthelthryth. Although they say that Huna joined her at Ely, it is possible that Huna had also been with her in Northumbria. If he only entered the church when she came to Ely he progressed very fast for him to be the lead priest at her funeral only seven years after her arrival. Note the similarity between the names Huna, Ymma, and his brother Abbot Tunna. No source claims that Huna was related to Ymma and Tunna, so it may reflect a naming style common in East Anglia (not unlike her father King Anna son of Enni).

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Sources:

Janet Fairweather, trans. Liber Eliensis: A History of the Isle of Ely from the Seventh Century to the Twelfth. Boydell, 2005.

June Hall McCash and Judith Clark Barban, trans and ed. The Life of Saint Audrey: A Text by Marie de France. McFarland, 2006.

PW: King Ecgric of East Anglia

King Ecgric is a little known king of East Anglia from the late 640s to about 652. Bede tells us that Ecgric was a kinsman of King Sigeberht son of Rædwald of East Anglia. When Sigebert abdicates the throne and enters a monastery that he founded, he hands the kingdoms over to Ecgric, “who had previously ruled part of the kingdom”. So its seems that Ecgric was a local ruler who was conquered or submitted to Sigebert as King of East Anglia and then Sigebert handed the entire kingdom over to him. Given that he was once a provincial ruler and Sigeberht handed the kingdom over to him, over Anna’s family, suggests that Ecgric was indeed from the same royal dynasty. Its possible that he was related to Ricberht who had assassinated and succeeded Eorpwald son of Rædwald (who was after all also Sigeberht’s rival).

Ecgric does not seem to have won the confidence of the people. When King Penda of Mercia invades East Anglia, Ecgric and the people force former king Sigeberht to leave the monastery and lead them in battle. Sigeberht, now a monk, refuses to carry a weapon and only carries his royal scepter. Penda of Mercia kills both Sigeberht and Ecgric and destroys their army. We hear nothing else of Ecgric’s family. He is succeeded by King Anna whose family holds East Anglia for the next century.

Anglo-Saxon Martyr Kings

We often talk about how easy and bloodless the conversion of England was, and yet it seems to me that we ignore some pretty obvious royal martyrs. It is true that we don’t know of any missionaries who were martyred while at work, such as the Hewalds among the Old Saxons or Boniface among the Frisians. Yet, if we define a martyr as someone who dies because of his or her Christian actions then we have several royal martyrs. And if we have so many royal martyrs, how many regular folks must have been murdered/martyred for their beliefs?

Royal martyrs to about the year 869 when St Edmund of East Anglia (whose feast day is today) dies: (some of the names below are links)

  • King Eorpwald of East Anglia (c. 633): killed by a heathen Ricberht; he kept Christianity out of the kingdom for three years until the kingdom was taken back by Eorpwald’s brother Sigibert.
  • King Sigiberht of East Anglia (c. 640s): Died in battle because he had taken the vows of a monk and refused to carry a weapon.
  • King Oswald of Bernicia and Deira (5 Aug 642): died defending his kingdom and therefore the kingdom of Christ he built therein. Considered a martyr early.
  • King Oswine of Deira (15 Aug 651): executed for refusing to fight a battle he was doomed to loose. Questionable martyr, early records just call it an unjust murder. Veneration of Oswine does not seem to begin until his body was rediscovered by Earl Tostig in c. 1065.
  • King Anna of East Anglia (c. 653): died in battle against pagan Penda of Mercia, the same king who slew Oswald of Bernicia and Deira. Bede talks about King Anna being very pious and the Addendum on Foillian calls him the “Divine Right Hand of God”. The Addendum specifically talks about him defending monasteries from Penda’s destruction, making him as much of a martyr as Oswald. There is some evidence of local veneration but it may have been wiped out during the Danish invasions.
  • King Peada of South Mercia and Middle Anglia (656): Murdered with the help of his wife, Queen Alhflæd, daughter of King Oswiu of Northumbria “during the very time of the Easter festival.” Questionable martyr but we know very little about his death or Mercia during this period.
  • King Sigiberht the Saint of East Saxons (c. 660s): Sigibert was murdered by two of his kinsmen. “When they were asked why they did it, they could make no reply except that they were angry with the king and hated him because he was too ready to pardon his enemies, calmly forgiving them for the wrongs they had done him, as soon as they asked his pardon. Such was the crime for which he met his death, that he had devoutly observed the gospel precepts.” (Bede, HE III:22)
  • Princes Æthelred and Æthelberht of Kent (669): Murdered and considered saints immediately. Minister-in-Thanet was given to their sister Eormenburgh, wife of King Merewealh of the Magonsæte, as a blood price for their deaths. St. Mildrith was Eormenburgh and Merewealh’s daughter.
  • Queen Osthryth of Mercia (697): Murdered by her own thanes; considered a saint at Bardney. Too little is known about her veneration to know if her murder was part of the reason for her veneration or if she was a founder saint due to her support of Bardney.
  • King Ælfwald I of Northumbria (788): Murdered, considered a saint almost immediately.
  • King Æthelberht II of East Anglia (794): Murdered by Offa of Mercia, considered a saint almost immediately. He is the patron saint of Hereford Cathedral.
  • King Kenelm of Merica (811): Murdered at about age 25 and considered a martyr almost immediately. His legend has warped to such a degree there is no certainty on the facts of his death.
  • King Edmund of East Anglia (869): Tortured and murdered by the Danes after being defeated in battle; considered a martyr and saint almost immediately. Unlike a recent History Channel episode (Barbarians II), there is no evidence that I know of that Edmund got the ‘bloody eagle’. This is another elaboration of the myth. The most common story of his martyrdom has him shot full of arrows like St. Sebastian.

Of course not all kings who met violent deaths are listed here. Edwin of Deira is a notable absence because he died at the hands of a Christian, Cadwallon of Gywnedd, in battle. Whatever the ultimate cause of Cadwallon’s ‘rebellion’ it is unlikely to have been due to Edwin’s Christianity or his bishop’s authority. There is no real evidence that Paulinus of York tried to take control of British churches. For the first couple Christian centuries many, if not most, kings died violent deaths, so this is not a matter of just being a violent death.

So what made some of these kings major saints, and others were nearly forgotten? The early spreading of veneration is of course a major boon to a burgeoning cult. If the veneration had spread west, as it did for Oswald, Æthelberht of East Anglia, and Edmund of East Anglia, then it is more likely to have survived Danelaw. But even before Danelaw there are some obvious differences. King Sigibert the Saint of Essex is a good example. Bede goes out of his way to show that Sigiberht is a saint, in obvious contradiction to the information he got that tried to claim that Sigiberht’s death was because he defied Bishop Cedd’s orders not to visit kinsmen who had made a marriage that the bishop did not approve. Bishop Cedd’s attitudes to royal saints are a vital piece of the puzzle and Lindisfarne in particular did not venerate royalty. Oswald became a saint in spite of Lindisfarne’s attitude. Recognition of martyrdom is very much in the eyes of the beholder and we are certainly influenced by our attitudes toward martyrdom when we evaluate the past.

For more information:

Bede, Ecclesiastical History of the English People. McClure and Collins, eds. Oxford UP, 1994.

St Hild: The Martha of the Anglo-Saxon England


This past weekend is the feast day of St. Hild of Whitby. According to Bede, she died on 17 November 680 and her feast is celebrated in the Episcopal Church on November 18th and in the Church of England on November 19th.

Hild’s return to Northumbria from East Anglia in 646 was one of the most important events in the development of the early Northumbrian church. She had been in East Anglia staying with her nephew King Ealdwulf waiting for a ship to take her to Gaul (France) where she could join her sister Hereswitha in the convent at Chelles. Like her sister, Hild was almost certainly a widow. She was 32 years old and for a woman of her time, she would have been expected to either marry or enter a convent long before, particularly since her closest male kinsmen were all dead.

Hild and her sister Hereswitha remind me of Mary and Martha of Bethany. When she was widowed, Hereswitha decided to leave England and enter a convent in Gaul (France) where she could be free to lead a contemplative life, free of all the hassles of royal, secular life or even royal religious life. She left behind at least one son who became a long reigning king of East Anglia. Gaul was a common destination for southern English women before the 650s because there were very few convents or double monasteries in England. Had she remained in the land ruled by her brothers in law, she would have had to found her own monastery as most other royal women of her era did if they wished to remain in Britain. Its also possible that her brothers in law would rather she leave the kingdom than require support from them. So at age 32 Hild goes to East Anglia to wait for a whole year for transportation to join her sister at Chelles when Bishop Aidan of Lindisfarne and probably her cousin King Oswine calls her home to Northumbria (Deira?). If she was a widow, then presumably she could have refused and continued to join in her sister in Gaul. If she wasn’t a widow, then her cousin King Oswine, the head of her father’s kindred in 647, could have demanded that she return home, but it seems likely that King Anna of East Anglia could have seen to it that she made it to Chelles, if they wished. So, there is no reason to believe that Hild didn’t return home to a world of work of her own accord. There were no convents in Northumbria; she would have to build everything from scratch.

So why did Bishop Aidan want to to come home so badly that he would make a last ditch effort to catch her before she boarded a ship for Gaul? It was finally time for the Lindisfarne mission to begin to found women’s monasteries (convents) and Aidan was certainly searching for capable women. He needed a Martha. I believe that with the help of King Oswine, Aidan identified Hild as just the woman he needed probably because she had a reputation as been a good manager of a household. Aidan had previously given the veil to Heiu, the first nun in Northumbria, but she doesn’t seem to have been cut out to be an abbess. Aidan gave Hild the veil at the age of 33, and placed her on one hide of land (big enough to support one family) on the north side of the River Wear (possibly near Abbot Utta’s monastery of Gateshead?) where she remained for one year while she was learning to be a nun.

After her year of training, Hild moved on to become Abbess of Hartlepool in her homeland of Deira. Abbess Heiu who had earlier founded Hartlepool retired to Calcaria (Tadcaster?). Bede does not connect Heiu’s retirement to Hild’s arrival at Hartlepool; he simply says that Heiu retired shortly after founding Hartlepool. Running the first convent, really double monastery (both men and women under an abbess), was not an easy job! Bede tells us that when she came to Hartlepool she set to work establishing the Rule of Life in accordance with that she had been taught by Bishop Aidan with great industry. In 651 her cousin King Oswine was executed by his rival King Oswiu and Bishop Aidan died within a fortnight of each other. Despite the bitterness that Oswine’s execution must have held for Abbess Hild, as it did for Oswiu’s Queen Eanflæd another cousin of Oswine, Hild seems to have had at least the respect of Oswiu. While at Hartlepool she was entrusted the infant oblate Ælfflæd daughter of King Oswiu and Hild’s cousin Queen Eanflæd, whom she raised and eventually succeeded her as abbess of Whitby.

Two years later, in 657, Hild went on to found a new monastery at Whitby (Streanæshalch), one of the greatest monasteries of the age. It was here that the famous Synod of Whitby was held in 664 with Abbess Hild as the hostess. Synods are not usually held at convents or double monasteries; that it was held here is a testament to the respect Hild and her monastery as held by the entire Northumbrian church. Here as Lees and Overing famously entitled an article, she was ‘birthing bishops and fathering poets’. Throughout the seventh century, Whitby was the lead training and learning monastery in Northumbria. Among the young men trained at Whitby, five went on to become bishops — Bosa of York (678-86, 691-706), Ætla of Dorchester (670s), Oftfor of the Hwicce (c. 691-?), John of Beverly (bishop of Hexham 687-706 and York 706-721) and Wilfrid II of York (721-732). Another of Hild’s students Tatfrith had been chosen to become bishop of the Hwicce died before he could be consecrated. It was also Hild who recognized that the shy cowherd Cædmon had been blessed by God with the ability to compose songs of praise to God in the English language. Bede considered Cædmon to be the first Christian poet in the English language and he includes a snippet in his History, translated into to Latin. Some of the early scribes who copied Bede’s History translated it into Old English and they are the among the earliest examples of Old English poetry (in at least two dialects, if I recall correctly). One of the most impressive modern crosses (below) raised in Britain is dedicated to Cædmon and Hild and placed near modern Whitby. The four panels are from top down: Christ, David with his lyre, St. Hild (surrounded by the faces of her five students who became bishops) and Cædmon near eye level. We know during this time Hild was also expanding her monastic network to include at least another monastery at Hackness and perhaps another monastery near Carlisle.

 

Cædmon’s Cross (modern), Whitby

(available here via a creative commons license)

Hild did not escape being pulled into the politics of her day. She had been baptized by the Roman Bishop Paulinus of York in c. 626 with her uncle King Edwin. Yet, she returned to Northumbrian at the summons of Bishop Aidan of Lindisfarne, who followed Iona’s practices and was, as we would say today, not in communion with Rome. We know that she was on Lindisfarne’s side at the Synod of Whitby and consistently was a leader among the Anglo-Celtic party in Northumbria. This made her the rival of Bishop Wilfrid. When Wilfrid was deposed and his see was divided in 678, Hild’s student Bosa became Bishop of York with authority over Whitby. According to Stephan’s Life of Wilfrid, when Bishop Wilfrid appealed the loss of his see and his exile to Rome (the first such appeal from Britain), much to his surprise when he reached Rome in 679 he found representatives from “holy” Abbess Hild and Archbishop Theodore waiting for him. They lost their case to Wilfrid, but King Ecgfrith would not allow Bishop Wilfrid to return to Northumbria. We don’t know if Hild heard the outcome of their case against Wilfrid, she died the following year on November 17th. Despite Wilfrid’s various wins and losses over the next 25 years, Whitby managed to keep a bishop of its own training at least through the lifetime of Hild’s successor and foster child Abbess Ælfflæd who died about 714.

Hild was considered a saint immediately upon her death. Although Bede does not tell us that she was buried in the Church of St. Peter at Whitby we can probably assume this is so. Her legacy at Whitby became a complicated one that I shall save for another post. However, material in Bede’s History, deference given to her memory even by her rivals disciples in the Life of Wilfrid, and the beautiful account of her death in the Old English Martyrology both confirm that information of Hild’s life was preserved in detail outside of Whitby. We might suspect that her five bishops and the countless numbers of students who enjoyed her hospitality and instruction ensured her sainthood. The works of Anglo-Saxon England’s own Martha have stood the test of time and her memory flourishes today as one of the few early female saints of the Church of England. She is the only female English “Celtic” saint recognized today; books on female Celtic saints must always make room for this one Englishwoman. There are probably more church and school dedications to St. Hild within the Anglican Communion than any other non-biblical female saint.

 

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Updated 20 Nov 2007

 

Bede, Ecclesiastical History of the English People, Book III Chapter 25 and Book IV Chapters 23, 24. McClure and Collins, eds. Oxford UP, 1994.

Stephan of Ripon, Life of Bishop Wilfrid, D. Farmer, Ed. The Age of Bede, Penguin.

Lees, Clare and Gillian Overing. “Birthing Bishops and Fathering Poets: Bede, Hild, and the Relations of Cultural Production.” Exemplaria 6 (1994) 35-65.

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