Heavenfield

Happy St Brendan’s Day!

While Brendan has been happily resting on the Isle of Birds during Eastertide (which ended last Sunday with Pentecost), I found an interesting little story of Brendan in, of all places, Rhygyfarch’s Life of St David. This little story seems like just the thing to get us in the mood for some of Brendan’s Pentecost adventures.

“One day he [Bairre] asked for a horse which the holy father, David, had been accustomed to ride on church business. He obtained permission, and having received the father’s blessing, he reached the harbour and entered the sea. Trusting in the father’s blessing, he used the horse instead of a ship as support. The horse ploughed its way through the swelling crests of the waves as if through a level field. When he had traveled further out to sea, he came to where Saint Brendan was leading a wonderful life on the back of a whale. Seeing the man riding a horse on the sea, Saint Brendan was astonished and said, “God is wonderful in his saints.” The man on horseback was approaching the place where he was, so that they would be able to greet each other. Having exchanged mutual greeting, Brendan asked from what place he might be, from whom he might have come, and how he rode a horse on the sea. Having related his journey, Bairre told him, “Since my ship’s delay was keeping me away from from my brethren, the holy father David gave me the horse on which he was accustomed to ride, so that I might have use of it in my need; and so fortified by his blessing, I have travelled on such a route as this.” Brendan said to him, “Go in peace. I shall come and see him.” So Bairre reached his country, his journey unimpaired, and told the brethren what had happened to him. They kept the horse in the service until its death. After its death, they fashioned a likeness of the horse in memory of the miracle. To this day, covered with gold, it is preserved on the island of Ireland, and is famous for the great number of miracles.” (Sharpe and Davies, Ch. 39-40)

So the moral to the story is that if you happen to meet a saint riding a fantastic beast upon the sea, send them on their way as they obviously have important work to do!

The editors note that Gerald of Wales refers to a cast metal horse with a man sitting on it, all decorated in gold, but small enough to be portable. Gerald claimed the horse was kept in a church at Cork, which fits with Bairre being St Finbarr of Cork. The Life of David appears to be the only source that mentions that this object was credited with miracles. The editors note that the O-text of the Life of St Bairre mentions David’s sea riding horse.

Brendan’s only role here appears to be to challenge Bairre and make him tell his story. For what is worth, St David and St Brendan were roughly contemporary. Brendan is believed to have died in c. 577 and David in c. 589. Brendan bridges the time of the great early saints, trained by St Erc of Slane, one of the founders of Irish Christianity (an early convert of Patrick), and colleague of Columba and contemporary of David.

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So back to our pilgrimage to follow Brendan in his voyage through the church year. Brendan and company have moved into the long Pentecost season, but as this is his second year at sea and the pattern is established, Pentecost becomes the adventurous season. Perils await…its a long time to the safety of the Isle of St Ailbe.

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References:

Richard Sharpe and John Reuben Davies, Ed. and trans. “Rhygyfarch’s Life of St David” in St David of Wales: Cult, Church and Nation. J.W. Evans and J.M. Wooding. Boydell Press, 2007.

I’ve been thinking about devotional materials a lot lately. The history of devotional practices doesn’t seem to be very well explored for the early medieval period. There is devotional material to study but it is largely overlooked.

Verse hagiography is considered for devotional purposes, while prose hagiography is for historical or liturgical purposes. Sometimes these works are paired, as in the Alcuin’s Verse and Prose Life of Willibrord. Other times they are separate. Bede wrote his verse Life of Cuthbert and the hymn on Aethelthryth for purely devotional reasons or meditation. He later happened to write historical works on them both — but only after being specifically commissioned to do so. The verse works served his devotional purposes. The prose Life of Cuthbert was only done upon commission by Lindisfarne. He included Aethelthryth’s story within the Ecclesiastical History of the English People which seems to have been commissioned by Canterbury.

Bede’s double hagiography inspired others. I seem to recall that the Miracles of Nynia are patterned on Bede’s verse Cuthbert. Alcuin gives us the best comparison. He specifically provides the Verse Life of Willibrord for monks to meditate upon in their cells — private devotions. The prose Life of Willibrord was composed to use during corporate liturgy and for the laity (ie for political uses).

Verse hagiography in 8th-9th century Northumbria

• Verse Life of Cuthbert by Bede
• Hymn on Aethelthryth by Bede
• Verse Miracles of Nynia (Ninian)
• Verse Life of Willibrord by Alcuin (while on the continent)
• Alcuin’s York poem
• Verse Guthlac A and B (unsure about dates)

The big problem is that Alcuin’s York poem is the only one available in a good English translation. None of the others, including Bede’s Verse Life of Cuthbert are found in English. You might wonder why not! Well, apparently everyone has dismissed them as uninteresting because they don’t provide new historical information. They were never intended to be historical documents! Its just amazing to me that Bede’s verse Cuthbert is not available in translation, and neither is the verse Willibrord. So if there are any graduate students out there in need of a project, this looks perfectly open!

From Muirchu’s Life of Patrick:

“And on the very night that St Patrick was celebrating the Passover, they were partaking of the worship of their great pagan festival. Now there was a custom among the pagans — made clear to all by edict — that it would be death for anyone, wherever they were, to light a fire on the night before the fire was lit in the house of the king (ie the palace of Tara). So when St Patrick celebrating the Passover lit the great bright and blessed divine fire, it shone clearly and was seen by nearly everyone living on the plain of Tara. And those who saw it viewed it with great wonder. All the elders and nobles of the nation were called in the king’s presence and he spoke to them. ‘Who is this man who has dared to commit such a crime in my kingdom? Let him perish by death!” And the answer from those around him was that they did not know. Then the wise men answered: “‘O king, life forever!” This fire, which we see lit this might before the fire of your own house, must be quenched this night. Indeed, if it should not be put out tonight, it will never be extinguished! You should know that it will keep rising up and will supplant all the fires of our own religion. This one who lit it, and the kingdom he bringing upon us this night, will overcome us all — both you and us– by leading away everyone in your kingdom. All the kingdoms will fall down before it, and it will fill the whole country and it ’shall reign forever and ever.’”

[The king and men confront Patrick to try to kill him but he and his followers escape. The king sees only 8 deer and one fawn in the darkness...]

“The next day, which [for us] was the Day of the Passover [Easter Day], was for the pagans the day of their greatest festival…. While they were eating and drinking in the place of Tara,…Patrick with only five companions appeared among them, having come through ‘closed doors’ in the way we read about Christ. He went there to proclaim and demonstrate the holy faith in Tara in the presence of all nations.” (Davies and O’Loughlin trans, Celtic Spirituality, Paulist press, 1999, p. 99-100, 102)

Theology as narrative at its best. As Thomas O’Loughlin describes it in his Celtic Theology (2000, p. 107):

“Muirchu had a few uncertain traditions about Patrick, but he had one theological certainty: the changing of people from being not-the-people-of-God to being part of Christ was the drama of the Paschal Mystery; the Paschal Mystery was entered through the drama of the liturgy, so the story of his people was the story of Easter Night. From his perspective as theologian/churchman could he have provided a more fitting origin story — a people reborn in the great event of Christian rebirth– for his people’s faith?”

Muirchu never calls Patrick’s fire a bonfire that is our assumption. The divine fire that Patrick lights represents the Paschal candle lit during the Easter vigil symbolizing the light of Christ in the world. Just as Muirchu claims that every fire in the kingdom was to be lit from the king’s pagan fire, every candle used during the easter vigil is lit from the paschal candle. Muirchu wrote for and was read by primarily monastics who would have immediately recognized this divine light as the paschal candle that they light every Easter Vigil. This candle is known to go back to at least the time of Jerome in the 4th century. Paschal means passover, and Muirchu calls Patrick’s Easter Vigil his celebration of Passover. In early medieval literature, including the Historia Brittonum, Patrick is consistently linked with Moses.

Muirchu says that Patrick went to Tara to speak to all the nations this is because the King of Tara was the High King of Ireland and representatives from most of the kingdoms of Ireland would have been present for the greatest pagan festival of the year.

As far as the king mistaking Patrick and his followers for deer in the darkness recall that the prayer known as St Patrick’s Lorica (Breastplate) is also known as “The Deer’s Cry“.

Somehow I think Muirchu would have been very pleased by the convergence of Patrick’s feast day with Holy Week.

Have a Blessed St Patrick’s Day and Holy Week!

octors are not very common in early medieval works so Cynefrith really stands out in Bede’s Ecclesiastical History. Cynefrith is the primary witness to the miraculous ‘healing’ of St Aethelthryth’s neck wound while in the grave. Bede actually talks as though he knows Cynefrith: “more certain proof is given by a doctor named Cynefrith, who was present at her deathbed and at her elevation from the tomb. He used to relate how…”. Bede then directly quotes him and unlike elsewhere, he doesn’t find the need to tell us who is relaying the story. The implication is that he had personally talked to Cynefrith. It is not all that difficult to imagine how these circumstances worked out.

Cynefrith was apparently a physician in residence at Ely during the plague outbreak of c. 679. His testimony relates how he was ordered to lance the tumor on Abbess Aethelthryth’s neck to drain out the infection (poisonous matter). She seemed to recover for about two days and then rapidly declined and died on the third day. Note that he didn’t lance it on his own authority but was ordered to presumably by the abbess herself. He goes on to say that she was buried with a gaping neck wound and when she was raised from the grave it had sealed itself shut with only the slightest trace of a scar. [Today we can take this as evidence of natural mummification where the desiccation of the body dried out the wound and, as the stretch skin collapsed, it matted together.] It may also be Cynefrith who related Aethelthryth’s quote that she deserved this fiery red wound for her childhood vanity of wearing necklaces with gold and pearls. It is easy to imagine that this might have been some of Aethelthryth’s chat at he prepared to lance open her neck.

I find myself marveling today at Cynefrith’s endurance as a physician. He survived a plague where one of the treatments was for him to lance the swellings/bubos. He must have been continually exposed to a large amount of bacterium and still survived over 16 years later. If the plague was caused by Yersinia pestis (the black death) then survivors of infections might be able to fend off future exposures. Physicians required an excellent immune system in those days due to their high exposure.

So coming back to how Bede might have met Cynefrith, it is quite possible that by c. 705-709 he had joined Bishop Wilfrid’s retinue. We know that Wilfrid was present at Aethelthryth’s translation. If he wanted to promote Aethelthryth’s sainthood he might have insisted that Cynefrith travel with him as a witness to Aethelthryth’s sanctity, her own miraculous healing in the grave, and the healings that surrounded her translation. If Cynefrith was indeed traveling with the elderly bishop, who by then had cause to keep a physician nearby, then Bede would have had ample opportunity to discuss Aethelthryth with him, when he also questioned Wilfrid, if not other times.

Cynefrith is found in Book 4 Chapter 19 of Bede’s Ecclesiastical History of the English People.

Some random impressions on just finishing Marie de France’s Life of Saint Audrey:

Overall, it was a sweet portrayal of Audrey. I think Marie cares much more about the story and virtues of Audrey than accuracy of her material. She is also clearly taking on Audrey’s legend from the point of view of a married (or at least mature) woman who asks questions that monks would avoid, such as how did she manage to keep her husband at bay for 12 years. Inquiring wives want to know! Marie has some interesting opinions on that.

The history is dreadful. I haven’t had a chance to carefully compare her information with the Liber Eliensis but it seems to be even worse. I will get around to comparing that history and I do think that Marie has made some intentional changes (and perhaps some unintentional mistakes).

There are way too many miracle stories in the final section for my enjoyment. I know that this was probably in fashion at the time but it today its just a long litany of miracles of the type that the later reformers would object to. I’m really not sure of what their purpose is supposed to be. Some of them have obvious lessons; some pertain to Marie’s overall theme of Audrey as patron and founder, setting up a role model for contemporary behavior. Others, just seem pointless. I guess part of the point may be to simply show that Audrey’s miracles continue up to Marie’s time and some of them, which seem like pointless miracles to me, may have been well known as near contemporary miracles to Marie’s audience.

A fair number of the miracles do refer to pilgrimages to Ely. They seem to pretty overtly support pilgrimage to Ely from the entire surrounding countryside. This shores up the idea that this text really isn’t intended for a monastic audience, who wouldn’t need encouragement to go on pilgrimage. It makes me wonder if there wasn’t an established pilgrims trail heading to Ely in Marie’s time. This would have only increased in later years, as Blanton pointed out in her recent book, Ely was en route to Walsingham from London. England’s virgin queen’s shrine would have been an obvious stopping point along the trail to the Marian shrine at Walsingham.

In his last days Bishop Wilfrid dictated his will and made his wishes known to his followers, after discussing how his wealth was to be divided, he then said:

“Remember, brethren, that I appoint as head over this monastery at Ripon this Tatberht the priest. He is my kinsman and has been up till now my inseparable companion; while I live he is to rule with me and after my death he is to possess it without question. I make these decrees in order that, when the Archangel Michael visits me, he may find me prepared; for many signs of death gather round me.” (Colgrave, p. 137, 139)

Bishop Wilfrid is prudent until the end. He makes these statements before witnesses but Stephan is clear in saying that he does not announce it to the monastery at large.

When Wilfrid is dying after dedicating one last church to St Andrew in Oundle, Mercia, he bade the brothers with him to recall all his good works and with his last breaths bequeathed his last lands to his most faithful followers including the monastery of Hexham to his confessor Acca. As a gloss on remembering his good works, Stephan says that “he had narrated from memory the whole story of his life to the priest Tatberht his kinsman, on a certain day as they were riding together” (Colgrave, p. 141). So, it is likely that Tatberht is the primary witness and source for all of Wilfrid’s youthful exploits. Also, as the elderly Wilfrid is passing on memories to Tatberht, he would have been very conscious to ensure that he was remembered the way he wished.

Stephan tells us how Abbot Tatberht responded to Bishop Wilfrid’s death:

“They then received the abbot who had been appointed [Tatberht], who, for the love of his father our holy bishop, was want to do many good works. He decided to celebrate a private Mass for him every day, and every week to celebrate Thursday, the day on which he died, as a feast as though it were Sunday. He determined on the anniversary of his death to divide the whole share of of the tithes of herds and flocks among the poor, to the Glory of God, all the days of his life, apart from those from those charities which he always gave every day to God and to the needy, for himself and for the soul of his bishop and always in his name.” (Colgrave, p. 141, 143)

Stephan is clear that Abbot Tatberht is Wilfrid’s heir and he leads the procession of Wilfrid’s body back to Ripon for burial. In his introduction, Stephan tells us that it is Abbot Tatbhert of Ripon and Bishop Acca of Hexham who have commissioned the Life of Wilfrid and it nearly certain that Abbot Tatberht approved the epitaph carved on Wilfrid’s tomb. There is no mention of a translation for Wilfrid, but it is possible that bishops were automatically buried in elevated tombs. Bishop Wilfrid’s cousin Tatberht did a good job of managing his kinsman veneration.

This is all we know for sure of Abbot Tatbhert. Colgrave does indicate that a Tatberht is listed among the abbots of the rank of priest in the Durham Liber Vitae (DLV). If this does indicate Abbot Tatberht of Ripon then it probably supports the recent hypothesis that the DLV originated at Wearmouth-Jarrow rather than Lindisfarne. Given Abbot Tatberht’s relationship with Bishop Acca of Hexham it is not unusual that he would be listed in such a book at Wearmouth-Jarrow, but it is harder to see Wilfrid’s heir being listed at Lindisfarne.

Reference:

Bertram Colgrave, ed and trans. (1927, 1985 reprint) The Life of Bishop Wilfrid by Eddius Stephanus. Cambridge UP.

The Person of the Week for this week is Marie de France, because I just think its really cool that a 12th century woman wrote hagiographical romances. These are not words that are usually combined. (Thanks to Michael for bringing Marie to my attention.) The illustration comes from Wikipedia.

There have now been four Old French works linked to Marie de France: the Lays, the Fables, the Life of Saint Audrey (Vie seinte Audree), and the Purgatory of Saint Patrick (Espurgatorie Saint Patriz). As you can see two of these works are on saints that are within the scope I have set out for Heavenfield. And, of course, there are Arthurian and Breton/Welsh ties to the Lays and Fables, so that peaks the interest of the long-dormant Arthurian in me. All summed up this makes Marie de France nearly irresistible… for a while anyway. So I checked out the Life of Saint Audrey and Purgatory of Saint Patrick from the library this week. Hopefully I will get to at least one of them over the holidays.

There doesn’t seem to be much known about Marie herself. She wrote in the late 12th to early 13th century. In her Fables, she describes herself as ‘of France’ but otherwise only uses Marie. It is assumed that she was born in France, but resided somewhere in England under the Normans and was part of the Norman aristocracy. One of her reasons for compiling her works is to ‘translate’ them into French verse so that they can be read and enjoyed by the laity.

There is much discussion on whether she was a lay woman or a nun. She never calls herself a nun, refers to a convent as her home or uses religious terminology to refer to her patrons. The only illustration of Marie (above) shows her in secular dress with long flowing hair. Consensus seems to be forming therefore that she was an aristocratic lay woman who may have never entered a convent. Blanton (2007) and McCabe and Barban (2006) suggest that the Life of Saint Audrey was written by an aristocratic woman for the enjoyment specifically of other aristocratic women. According to McCabe and Barban, Marie de Meulan, daughter of Galeran (Waleran) de Meulan and wife of Hugh Talbot is the current leading contender.

I’ll be reading more from:

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

Michael Curley, trans and ed. (1993) Saint Patrick’s Purgatory: A Poem by Marie de France. Medieval and Renasissance Texts and Studies.

Virginia Blanton (2007) Signs of Devotion: The Cult of St. Æthelthryth in Medieval England, 695-1615. Penn State Press.