The Culture of Christendom: Essays in Medieval History in Commemoration of Denis L.T. Bethell

THE CULTURE OF CHRISTENDOM

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THE CULTURE OF CHRISTENDOM Essays in Medieval History in Commemoration of Denis L.T. Bethell

Edited by

MARC ANTHONY MEYER

The Hambledon Press London and Rio Grande

Published by The Hambledon Press 1993 102 Gloucester Avenue, London NW1 8HX (U.K. P.O. Box 162, Rio Grande, Ohio 45674 (U.S.A.) ISBN 1 85285 064 7 © The contributors 1993 A description of this book is available from the British Library and from the Library of Congress

Typeset by The Midlands Book Typesetting Company, Loughborough Printed on acid-free paper and bound in Great Britain by Cambridge University Press

Contents

Preface

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Denis L.T. Bethell (1934-1981) Remembered Marc Anthony Meyer

ix

List of Contributors

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Abbreviations

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1

The Map of the Barbarian Invasions: A Longer Look Walter Goffart

2

Letters and Letter-Collections from Antiquity to the Early Middle Ages: The Prose Works of Avitus of Vienne Ian Wood

29

3

A Sense of Wonder: Gregory of Tours, Medicine and Science Edward James

45

4

Magic and Marriage in Ninth-Century Francia: Lothar, Hincmar — and Susanna Valerie I.J. Flint

61

5

The Queen's 'Demesne' in Later Anglo-Saxon England Marc Anthony Meyer

75

6

Christchurch's Sisters and Brothers: An Edition and Discussion of Canterbury Obituary Lists Robin Fleming

115

7

Lanfranc, Anselm and the School of Bee: In Search of the Students of Bee Sally N. Vaughn

155

8

William II, Henry I and the Church C. Warren Hollister

183

v

1

vi 9

The Culture of Christendom 'The Whole World a Hermitage': Ascetic Renewal and the Crisis of Western Monasticism Derek Baker

207

10 Odo of Deuil, the Second Crusade and the Monastery of Saint-Denis Henry Mayr-Harting

225

11 The Quest for Sir John Mandeville J.R.S. Phillips

243

12 The Debate over Nobility: Dante, Nicholas Upton and Bartolus Maurice Keen

257

13 'Linguistic Pluralism' in Medieval Hungary Jdnos Bak

269

14 Jewish Anti-Christianism from the Crusades to the Reformation Gordon Weiner

281

15 Creative Biography Terry P. Dolan

295

Preface

This collection of essays is being published in commemoration of Denis L.T. Bethell and is intended as a lasting tribute to his distinguished teaching career and scholarship in medieval history. The contributors to this memorial volume were close friends and colleagues, while some — like myself — benefited immensely by being among Denis's students as well. Many people who knew Denis Bethell and worked closely with him and fell under his influence unfortunately have not been afforded an opportunity to contributed to this memorial volume. Such was the admiration that he aroused that it would take at least another volume to accomplish the task of including all those who might wish to contribute an essay in his memory. Nonetheless, the essays here reveal many of Denis's diverse interests and nearly limitless erudition, reflecting as they do — regardless of length or topic — a liberal range of themes and methodological concerns. It is precisely the breadth and depth of coverage that would have so excited Denis himself, making it something I believe he would have greatly appreciated. I hope that the essays will be of interest and value to students and scholars alike who appreciate the middle ages and who work in medieval history as Denis once did. I wish to acknowledge with gratitude the efforts of Martin Sheppard of The Hambledon Press, without whose labours this volume would not have reached fruition. I would like to extend my appreciation as well to Kathy Gann, Faculty Research Coordinator at Berry College, and Cassandra Heine and Rachel Clark, my research assistants, for their help in preparing the manuscript. Doyle Mathis, Academic Vice-President, Berry College, offered continuing support of this project, for which I am also grateful. As always, my thanks go to my wife Anne Giaever Meyer for the help she gave me in the preparation of this volume, her understanding and her infinite patience. Marc Anthony Meyer Mount Berry, Georgia Autumn, 1992

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Denis L.T. Bethell (1934-1981) Remembered Marc Anthony Meyer

Denis Bethell passed away on 15 February 1981.J I think Denis with all his charm, wit and humility would be slightly abashed and amused if he knew about this honour accorded to him — not to mention the fact that many of his friends, colleagues and students have contributed to a memorial volume dedicated to him. Yet I believe that he would have accepted all of this with his usual good grace and humility. I, like others who knew him, felt a keen sense of personal loss when he died at peace in his home in Monkstown after having spent the last afternoon of his life listening to Pickwick Papers and roaring with laughter, and then elevating himself in quiet reflection surrounded by a few close friends. Upon returning to Arizona State University for the beginning of the fall semester in 1972 — the year before I began my graduate studies under Denis Bethell in the M.Phil, programme at University College, Dublin — I could not help but notice three incredibly large wooden crates obstructing the hall leading to the history professors' offices. I couldn't imagine what had transpired during the summer that would warrant a blockade. It was 1972, however, and anything was possible. I eventually discovered they belonged to Mr. Bethell, the Visiting Professor of History scheduled to teach a course for which I was enrolled — 'Church and State, 1000 to 1153'. Unlike the hundreds of books that inhabited the crates, Denis himself was still in transit from his home in Ireland; he had some time before taken passage on a freighter and was reputedly passing through the Panama Canal at the moment our seminar was to convene for its first meeting. The class was one of those typical American seminars designed for advanced undergraduate and graduate students. We were to meet on Tuesday afternoons from 1.30 to 4.30 p.m.; yet when the four of us finally 1. A version of this paper was presented on 8 November 1991 to members of the Charles Homer Haskins Society at its annual conference. Two years after Denis Bethell's death, the society established the Bethell Prize in his memory, an award given out each year to that paper delivered at its international conference and judged to be an outstanding contribution in the field of Anglo-Saxon, Viking, Anglo-Norman and Angevin historical studies. I would like to thank those who were present that evening I spoke about Denis Bethell for their kind remarks and their own personal reminiscences.

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met three weeks into the term, our class extended some two hours beyond the scheduled time. Indeed, we never left the bowels of the History building before 6.00 p.m. for the remainder of the semester. Mr. Bethell, anxious to respond to any questions we posed, would usually begin to answer by exclaiming, 'Um, I don't know much about that, but, . . .' Normally half an hour after he began his dissertation on the subject about which he claimed to know nothing and during the course of which he had cited at least twenty scholarly references and numerous primary historical sources, he would stop, apologising for 'rambling' to such great length. Actually, he never rambled but gave generously of his time and himself to everyone. Yet, by mid-term we had learned not to ask any questions after 5.15 p.m. Before I left for Dublin in 1973 and considering I had no prior experience with any other European educator, Denis suggested I get a little vicarious seasoning by reading Lucky Jim, Kingsley Amis's acrimonious look at British higher education. Denis pointed out to me a particular passage from the book that he thought especially humorous, but with which he heartily disagreed: Those who professed themselves unable to believe in the reality of human progress ought to cheer themselves up, as the students under examination had conceivably been cheered up, by a short study of the Middle Ages. The hydrogen bomb, the South African Government, Chiang Kai-shek, Senator McCarthy himself, would then seem a light price to pay for no longer being in the Middle Ages. Had people ever been as nasty, as self-indulgent, as dull, as miserable, as cocksure, as bad at art, as dismally ludicrous, or as wrong as they'd been in the Middle Ages?2

Perhaps there is a slight ring of truth to the inner thoughts of Amis's protagonist, the young scholar Dixon; and although Denis never kept his eyes closed to the darker eddies of medieval history, in his mind the middle ages was really a vast reservoir of creativity, spirituality and beauty. Although Denis Bethell was only forty-six when he died, he had led a very full and rich life. In the last year and a half of his life Denis faced malignant cancer with great tranquility and determination, making a final pilgrimage to see his friends in Canada, the United States and Great Britain. He continued as well to act the part of the gracious host he always was for his many friends who visited him in Ireland and England. During the last summer of his life, while in Leeds as the guest of Ian Wood and others on the university faculty there, and while in a period of remission, he was hard at work on a book on early twelfth-century France. Yet Denis still found time for his friends, taking Warren Hollister and his wife Edith on a wondrous journey through northern England — from Lindisfarne to Hexham, then on to Ruthwell, Carlisle and St. Bee's, and finally to the unforgettable ruins of Furness Abbey. In a similar

2. Kingsley Amis, Lucky Jim (1953), quoted from the Penguin Books edition printed in 1983.

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vein, one of Denis's college chums, essayist and poet Peter Levi, recalls in 'A Silver Poker', an amusing little chapter in his The Flutes of Autumn which itself is a wonderful testament to Denis: you could never revisit any monument or gallery with Denis without seeing something freshly. Whether it was a fantastical piece of architectural detail in Broad Street, or the view from a roof in Longwall, some trees weeping into the Oxford canal, or the hundredth time of gazing at Dutch flower paintings or the Hunt in the Wood, he would always see something quite obvious I had never before noticed. He was a born noticer, a quality that no one can fake and which plays, as memory does, a very big part in all intelligence, and in scholarly imagination.3 There was never a more erudite and cordial tour guide, as I and so many others can easily recall from tours throughout the remnants of Ireland's and England's medieval past. Even more remarkable, Denis continued to teach and lecture until barely ten days before he died. In his last public appearance on 5 February, during which he delivered a paper to the M.Phil, seminar that that year focused on the essential question 'Is There a European Unity in the Early Middle Ages?', it was as if Denis consciously used himself up. Seymour Phillips recalls he could not remember Denis giving a paper 'that was more lucid in argument and polished in delivery. Even the customary urns and ers that were so characteristic of the Bethell sound had disappeared'. A week earlier, he had delivered to the Royal Society of Antiquaries of Ireland a paper entitled 'The Originality of the Early Irish Church' that concentrated on the same theme. With characteristic humility Denis said: I want to make it clear that I am not in any way tonight speaking as one with a close and detailed knowledge of the early Irish Church and that I cannot answer myself many questions there are about it. I have no pretensions whatever to be a close student of it, and rather than questions afterwards I hope for commentary and for members to adduce evidence which will either confirm or rebut the general thesis about it which I wish to put before you. Although he did not live to see his last lecture in print, his friend and colleague Dr. Proniseas Ni Chatham saw to it that Denis's insights were shared with a larger audience, the piece being subsequently published in that society's journal toward the end of 1981.4 Denis Bethell was born in 1934, in Gibraltar, the last of three sons of Donald Bethell, the Colonial Treasurer there. While Denis was still a young boy, his father very tragically took his own life. Denis occasionally recalled this event with a touch of uncharacteristic bitterness. Yet, ironically, Donald 3. Peter Levi, The Flutes of Autumn (London, 1983), pp. 81-101. 4. 'The Originality of the Early Irish Church', Journal of the Royal Society of Antiquaries of Ireland 3 (1981), pp. 36-49.

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Bethell's death would in time assume what Denis himself considered a positive significance in his life; the tragedy later influenced his decision to convert to Catholicism. During the war years, Denis lived in Canada with relatives, returning to England in 1946 to enter one of the most traditional of English public schools at Sherborne in Dorset for the 1947 year. He eventually fell under the tutelage of V.H.H. Green, who subsequently became his tutor at Oxford as well. At the age of eighteen and upon completion of his studies at Sherborne, Bethell entered the Royal Army Education Corps, British Army of the Rhine, at which time he got his first taste of teaching. The scope of his teaching duties in Germany from 1952 to 1954 was broad: he taught nineteenth-century British history to sergeant-majors, elementary mathematics to army drivers, and helped less fortunate soldiers learn to read and write. It was perhaps this experience with illiterates, the military equivalent of the university's 'lame ducks' (as Denis affectionately referred to less advantaged college students) that inspired him to give considerably more than was required or expected in his college and university teaching. I can recall many marathon sessions when we watched the sun rise over Dublin Bay from Denis's Monkstown flat after having tackled together the translation and interpretation of not a few barbarous Anglo-Saxon charters. He always gave unstintingly of his time, sparing no effort for anyone who genuinely wanted to learn more about the middle ages. This last incident also illustrates Denis's affinity for the 'text'. He saw it as an obligation of every medievalist to edit and translate (and, hence, make available to other scholars) those vital documents hidden away in the archives. This activity can be witnessed in his essay on the lives of the two St. Osyths, in which he sorted through a very confused hagiographic tradition,5 and in his unfortunately unpublished translation and commentary on Suger's 'The Life of Louis the Fat'. Prior to leaving Sherborne, Bethell had won an open scholarship in Modern History to Lincoln College, Oxford. And so, after his tour of duty with the Royal Army Corps and upon completion of his three-year programme, he distinguished himself by graduating with first-class honours in Modern History in 1957. It was at Oxford that Henry Mayr-Harting first encountered Denis in an undergraduate seminar on St. Bernard, then presided over by W. A. Pantin, Beryl Smalley and Colin Morris. He recalls that Denis's paper on the origins of Fountains Abbey was half the length and at least twice as brilliant as anyone else's. This student essay was later to be published in revised form.6 Yet Denis did not spend all his time in seminars. Peter Levi vividly recollects ambling across the Berkshire Downs. 'My friend', he writes, 'was a medieval historian called Denis Bethell, enchanting, humorous, kindly, and brave. He had huge spectacles and no money to speak of, but I have never met anyone with more cheerfulness or a greater or more sustained intellectual curiosity. 5. 'The Lives of St. Osyth of Essex and St. Osyth of Alesbury', Analecta Bollandiana 88 (1970), pp. 75-127. 6. 'The Foundation of Fountains Abbey and the State of St. Mary's York in 1132', The Journal of Ecclesiastical History 17 (1966), pp. 11-27.

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His range was magnificent, and his gleeful dedication to scholarly research was obviously an essential part of his personality'. Denis's undergraduate days at Oxford were tremendously fruitful and significant, for he did not merely study medieval history but in a real sense was personally influenced by it. While a student of the middle ages, Denis converted to Catholicism. Indubitably his interest and research in medieval church history influenced this important decision that had had such critical impact on the remaining years of his life. In recalling what V.H.H. Green had said at the mass celebrated in Denis's memory at Oxford, that 'his essential quality flowed from the rich reserves of his faith', Maurice Keen remarked that Denis's 'religious belief came from the marrow of his being'. So, too, did his love of and appreciation for the middle ages, the two being inextricably bound together for him. Denis went on to read for the B.Litt. under Billy Pantin while serving as a tutor at Lincoln, Trinity and New Colleges in Oxford. He eventually received the degree in 1962 with the submission of his thesis on Archbishop William of Corbeil.7 However, even before the completion of his B.Litt. Bethell's boundless energy and innate desire to teach brought him his first academic position. In 1960 he was appointed senior history master at Stonyhurst College, where he remained on and off for the next two years while finishing his degree. Denis's diligence and dedication paid off in 1962 when he accepted an assistant lectureship in medieval history at Reading University. When I visited Professor James Holt, later Master of FitzWilliam College in Cambridge, and his colleagues at Reading some years later, they remembered Denis as a remarkable young scholar with uncanny insight into the medieval mind. Denis was fond of quoting V.H. Galbraith, who wrote that '[History's] essential value lies in the shock and excitement aroused by the impact of the very ways and thoughts of the past upon the mind'. As he and Janos Bak wrote in their still unpublished 'translation' of Heinz Quirin's Einfubrung in das Studium der mittelalterlichen Geschichte: The aim of history is to interpret the evidence which the past has left us; therefore to understand it; and to understand we must understand in terms of a world that is not our own; a world of different laws, different gradings of society, different beliefs. No matter what our viewpoint such understanding is basic to true historical insight. In a word, to understand the sources we have to have a sense of period.

During his last two years on the Reading History Faculty, Denis held the title of Temporary Lecturer at Pembroke and Balliol Colleges and tutored undergraduates in a variety of subjects pertaining to the history of the middle ages. Despite a heavy teaching load, 1966 turned out to be a seminal year in Denis's professional life, for he published his first major article, 'The 7. A portion of the thesis was published as 'William of Corbeil and the Canterbury-York Dispute, Journal of Ecclesiastical History 19 (1968), pp. 145-59.

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Foundation of Fountains Abbey and the State of St. Mary's York in 1132.'8 Of greater significance, on the advice of his close friend Valerie Flint, who was then a lecturer at University College, Dublin, Denis applied for and was appointed College Lecturer there. His new colleagues, among whom were Father F.X. Martin, the Rev. Thomas Dunning, Alan Bliss, Ludwig Bieler and F.X. Burne, recognised Denis's immense talents as an historian and teacher and soon appreciated the depth of his humanity as well. Edward James, who arrived in Dublin a few years after Denis, has written, 'I learned more from Denis Bethell about my subject, and about the art of teaching, than I have from anyone else'. The remainder of Denis's academic career was spent in Dublin, where he became somewhat of an institution. Indeed, Denis and the hospitality he showered on his guests in his dishevelled Monkstown flat became next-to-legendary among both visiting medievalists and his own colleagues and students. He once wrote to a friend after having discovered caches of written, but unposted letters: At the time of Dom Jean Leclercq's visit in the depths of a very cold November, I hastily shifted — I think — the unposted letters to under my bed. I wonder? Dom Jean, poor man, was dreadfully cold; we had a bitter winter indeed, and the windows needed repairing! He huddled over the electric fire, dressed in rugs, giving very elaborate directions for breakfast — hot milk, black coffee, wholemeal bread, and cheese. Cheese for breakfast! Well, of course, you Americans will eat anything for breakfast; you do not have the English laws of the Medes and Persians on the matter.

Derek Baker, who also endured a January visit to Dublin when conducting a seminar on Byzantine kingship, confirms the bleak weather, but remarks that it was redeemed and obscured by unsurpassed hospitality and cordiality. On more normal occasions, party guests were inundated with food and drink — usually after the pubs closed. And toward the end of a long but thoroughly enjoyable evening, there was always the typical Irish song-fest during which time everyone did their 'party piece'. Although Denis remained on the U.C.D. History Faculty for the next fifteen years, there was the occasional jaunt to North America and Europe. Denis was at once amused and taken with his status as a 'jet-set historian'. On the invitation of his friend Gordon Weiner, he served as Visiting Professor of History at Arizona State University in 1972-73. On one occasion he remarked that 'quite separate groups of students require quite separate methods of teaching. I can't imagine how to teach anyone except by going over their work with them individually'. By the end of his first year as an 'American' professor at A.S.U., Denis did discover how to negotiate more practically classes of seventy-five undergraduates enrolled in his Western Civilization courses. Instead of holding forth with hour-long lectures three times a week with additional weekly tutorial sessions for groups of five students, he decided 8. See above, n. 6.

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to forego one entire lecture per week. Even this Herculean effort did not dampen his enthusiasm for a subject he was required to teach as a part of his contract because, as Denis remarked, 'no one else seem to want to do it'. Denis continued by suggesting, 'Indeed, Western Civilization should not be treated as something to be dumped on the first unsuspecting newcomer or passed around the department as a sort of academic booby prize'. Denis Bethell was as forthright and outspoken as he was honest and perceptive. Although he adapted remarkably well to the American university system, the rather hostile desert climate of Arizona was less kind. 'I am no Richard Burton or T.E. Lawrence', he often replied to questions about how he was getting along. With temperatures still reaching 100 degrees, Denis was mobile only with an old bicycle that had been given to him by Professor Weiner, whom Denis repaid for his generosity with an invitation to a proper 'English meal'. When his guest arrived at Denis's apartment, which was intolerably hot, the host was found in a bathtub full of cold water and ice cubes. Denis explained that that afternoon he had cycled four miles to the one store where kidneys were available for the sumptuous steak and kidney pie he had baked. The dinner was fine, but he insisted that the air-conditioning system had broken down. His guest spent the remainder of the evening sweating through traditional English cuisine and watching an overheated Denis who had turned reddish-purple. Yet perhaps the most melodramatic event that occurred during his stay in Arizona was when Denis 'learned' to drive (and I am using this term loosely) a car. After flunking out of an American driving school, a courageous undergraduate named 'Mr. Cady' took it upon himself to make the roads a little safer for the American driving public before Denis obtained his licence. Whether or not that objective was achieved is debatable. Denis did eventually receive his licence, and quickly invested part of his new-found academic fortune in a late-model Mercury Cougar. Needless to s'ay, it was a little too much automobile for him, for by the time Denis returned to Ireland there was not much left of the car to resell. Anyone who was acquainted with Denis after 1973 can easily recall any number of 'Bethell driving anecdotes'. There was an early incident in which very late at night Denis stalled his car on railroad tracks in Mesa, Arizona. Seeing a train rapidly approaching, he uttered his characteristic 'Oh, Christmas!' and gunned the accelerator just in time. Robin Fleming recalls the Bethell-equivalent of 'Mr. Toad's Wild Ride' en route to Glendaloch through the beautiful Wicklow Mountains of southern Ireland. On another occasion during a jaunt to the Cliffs of Moer in western Ireland, a very pregnant woman sat in the back seat of Denis's little Ford, her face showing true holy terror at the prospect of giving birth prematurely owing to the stress of the moment — and her concern was not confined to the terrible conditions of the road. I myself took a more stoic approach on that occasion and on others, believing that my time had not yet come. All of this was perhaps a result of the fact that Denis simply didn't understand cars. After his stint at Arizona State, for example, and while driving north to British

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Columbia to visit his aunt, his car's radiator overheated. He pulled to the side of the road, let the engine cool off a bit, and then refilled the radiator with the only watery liquid he had in the car — the tonic water he was saving for another kind of emergency. Just outside San Francisco, the radiator exploded. Even in Santa Barbara, where Denis lived for four months while acting as a Visiting Professor, the man's driving reputation preceded him. He averaged one minor collision per month much to the dismay of local rental car agencies and his not unsuspecting passengers. In 1977 Denis's peregrinations took him to the University of California at Santa Barbara for his second turn as an American professor, where he had some years before delivered a lecture for Warren Hollister's blossoming Medieval Studies Program. Hollister had first met Denis in Oxford in 1965, when they were both just beginning their careers as medievalists. Denis impressed Hollister as one 'whose mind was at once encyclopedic and keenly analytical', and as one whom he found 'an unparalleled expert at having a good time'. Again, Denis Bethell proved himself to be the consummate educator, instructing both undergraduate and graduate students. David Spear, now an associate professor of history at Furman University, poetically expressed his deep admiration for Denis when he wrote: His broad mind unlocked the secrets of that lost time. Friends with Heloise and Abelard, intimate of Anselm, he could read the illegible handwriting of the Dumb Ox, Aquinas. He spent hours with his students, explaining in his British accent new ways of looking at things, and also the old ways. Disheveled, his shirt tails hanging like two white walrus tusks, facing the blackboard he mistook his cigarette for the chalk, and afterwards, sitting on the table he snuffed it out on the bottom of his shoe. He was generous with his time, and he still would be, had he not hurried off to meet with those he knew so well, but had not yet met.

One thing that Denis never did quite become accustomed to during his days as a Visiting Professor in Arizona and California was the absence of the 'student pub' on American university campuses. He once remarked, 'That's where all my best tutorials were held!' What impressed him more deeply were the demands made especially on medievalists teaching in many American universities. Denis said in a letter to the chair of A.S.U.'s history department, 'Any publication by a medievalist, and in particular those teaching a variety of other courses outside the research field, should be regarded as a work of supererogation undertaken under heroic conditions'. Denis Bethell was not widely nor frequently published. His articles and major reviews, not including his edited works, number less than twenty. He was, however, engaged in many projects that remain incomplete or unpublished. These include a book-length study of the new monastic orders in the high middle ages; the Anglo-Norman church as seen in the Lives of St. Petroc; an edition and translation of Suger's Life of Louis the Fat; a translation — and more appropriately an expanded 'English-speaking' edition — of the

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German classic Heinz Quirin's Einfiihrung in das Studium der mittelalterlichen Geschichte9 that Denis and his co-editor Janos Bak ominously referred to as 'The Quirin'; and finally, a science fiction novel. As a scholar Denis Bethell possessed a remarkable facility for displaying clearly the means and motives surrounding historical particulars. He derived this ability from his own humanity and his willingness to participate in the history he wrote. Walter Goffart has remarked that 'Denis Bethell once turned the study of a collection of holy relics at Reading into a dazzling exposition of medieval culture'. Indeed, his essay on Reading Abbey's relic collection exhibits many of Denis's finer qualities as an historian, of which his great capacity to empathise is most significant.10 In this regard, his remarks concerning relics are appropriate and illustrative: Many people find the subject of relics itself is both repulsive and peripheral. Much depends on a point of view: at its lowest level the collection of relics has more to be said for it than the collection of stamps. Relics are the physical, tangible reminders of what the saints of God have been: they stand as symbols, like the Eucharist itself, as reminders that the saints were men and women as we are, as important examples. Of course with the cult of relics there has always been a great deal of superstition, of magical belief, of fraud, of profit from superstition. However, there is perhaps no manifestation of piety towards which less sympathy has been shown by historians, and before we dismiss any belief which can be shown to have been of importance to large numbers of people it is our duty to understand before we judge. There can be no doubt that the collection of relics and their cult is among the oldest Christian practices. Anthropology has taught us to look with great patience and understanding at African witch doctors: we might well spare some of this sympathy for our own Christian forbears.

Denis Bethell was a erudite man, whose close reading of the sources for medieval history had — in the Oxford tradition in which he was reared — an unusually wide range. He also possessed a capacity for organisation that was rather surprising in one who often appeared so dishevelled and scattered. He was not only one of the initial organisers of U.C.D.'s M.Phil. Programme in Medieval Studies, begun in 1970, but for many years was the prime mover behind its successful continuation, a role that was assumed on Denis's death by his close friend and colleague T.P. Dolan. His organisational deftness was also manifested in his duties as general editor for MacMillan's 'New Series in Medieval History' and in his intimate participation in establishing Peritia, the journal of the Medieval Academy of Ireland. Although Denis's considerable talents as an historian can now be witnessed in relatively few

9. Bethell and Bak were in the process of tackling the third German edition of 1964, the original having been published in 1949. 10. 'The Making of a Twelfth-Century Relic Collection', Studies in Church History 8 (1972), pp. 61-72.

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books and articles, the valuable interpretations and suggestions conveyed in his publications eloquently attest to his academic achievement. What can be seen in his diverse scholarly pieces is a sense of the underlying unity of the human experience within the context of human spirituality. This places this beloved scholarly man who gave so much to his students, colleagues and friends squarely within the modern Christian humanist tradition.

List of Contributors

A graduate of the universities of Budapest and Gottingen, jANOS M. BAK is a former Professor of History at the University of British Columbia, Vancouver, Canada, who currently resides in Hungary. He is widely published in the fields of medieval kingship in eastern Europe, symbology and communications. Dr. Bak currently serves as editor of the series Decreta Regni Mediaevalis Hungariae and of Medieval East-Central Europe: An Encyclopaedia. Currently serving as Visiting Professor of History and Assistant Director of Advanced Academic Programs at the University of North Texas in Denton, DEREK BAKER has taught at the University of Cambridge and the University of Edinburgh. Dr. Baker received his B.Litt. at Oxford, and has subsequently published over thirty articles on a broad range of medieval topics. He was also the editor of numerous volumes in the University of Cambridge Press's Studies in Church History. He has been a Fellow of the Royal Historical Society since 1967. TERRY P. DOLAN was educated at the University of Sheffield and received his M.Litt. from the University of Oxford and his Ph.D. from University College, Dublin. He currently serves as the Acting Head of the Department of Old and Middle English at U.C.D. and has twice been the National Endowment for the Humanities Distinguished Professor of the Humanities at the University of Richmond, Virginia. Dr. Dolan is the author of some thirty articles, and is currently engaged in producing an annotated edition of the Latin works of Richard fitz Ralph and an anthology of medieval English prose. After receiving her Ph.D. from U.C. Santa Barbara, ROBIN FLEMING joined the Harvard Society of Fellows as Junior Fellow, where she remained from 1986 to 1989. Currently an Associate Professor of History at Boston College, she has published various articles on Anglo-Saxon England and most recently Kings and Lords in Conquest England (Cambridge, 1991). Dr. Fleming is currently engaged in writing a monograph on later Anglo-Saxon England for Blackwell's 'History of Britain' series and is completing work on a Domesday Book data-base project funded by the National Endowment for the Humanities. VALERIE I. J. FLINT is Professor of History at the University of Auckland, New Zealand. Educated at Oxford University, Dr. Flint is the author of numerous articles on various medieval subjects and The Rise of Magic in

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Early Medieval Europe (Princeton and Oxford, 1991). Her most recent work, The Imaginative Landscape of Christopher Columbus, is now being published by Princeton University Press. Having received his Ph.D. from Harvard University, WALTER GOFFART joined the faculty at the University of Toronto, Canada, where he now serves as Professor of History. Dr. Goffart has published many articles and books, including his latest monograph, The Narrators of Barbarian History (A.D. 550-800): Jordanes, Gregory of Tours, Bede, and Paul the Deacon, which was awared the Haskins Medal of the Medieval Academy of America in 1991. Rome's Fall and After, a collection of his scholarly articles, was published by The Hambledon Press in 1989. Professor of Medieval History at the University of California, Santa Barbara, C. WARREN HOLLISTER is a Fellow of the Medieval Academy of America, the Royal Historical Society, and the Medieval Academy of Ireland. He has served as Vice-President for the Teaching Division of the American Historical Association and as Co-Chair of the University of California Press. He has published a dozen books and more than forty scholarly articles. Among his other accomplishments and interests, Dr. Hollister is one of the world's authorities on Frank Baum's 'Oz' literature. EDWARD JAMES studied history at Oxford University as an undergraduate and archaeology as a postgraduate student. Now Senior Lecturer in History and Co-Director of the Centre for Medieval Studies, University of York, England, Dr. James has produced The Origins of France: from Clovis to the Capetians (London, 1982) and his popular and scholarly The Franks (Oxford, 1988). He is currently at work editing the first volume of the New Cambridge Medieval History. He also finds time to edit Foundations, an academic journal devoted to science fiction literary criticism as well as Early Medieval Europe, a new historical journal. MAURICE H. KEEN took a degree in modern history at Balliol College, Oxford, and now serves as Fellow and Tutor in Medieval History there. He is the author of many articles on the history of the middle ages and has published The Outlaws of Medieval Legend, The Laws of War in the Later Middle Ages, England in the Later Middle Ages and the ever-popular and insightful The Pelican History of Medieval Europe. HENRY MAYR-HARTING was educated in Oxford and is now Fellow and Tutor in History at St. Peter's College. In addition to his many scholarly articles on a variety of medieval topics, Dr. Mayr-Harting is a contributor to the Oxford Illustrated History of Christianity and the author of the immensely successful The Coming of Christianity to Anglo-Saxon England, now in its third edition. Having received his M.Phil, at University College, Dublin and his Ph.D. at the University of California, Santa Barbara, MARC ANTHONY MEYER

List of Contributors

xxi

is currently Associate Professor of History at Berry College in Georgia. He has published numerous articles on the Anglo-Saxons and has edited A Documentary History of Western Civilization (Lanham, MD, 1989) and co-edited Medieval Europe: A Short Sourcebook (2nd ed.; New York, 1992). He will soon publish The Search for Order: Landmarks of World Civilizations with The Dushkin Publishing Group, and is presently completing a monograph entitled 'Feminae Nobilitatis': Women, Church and Society in Early England. A member of the Department of Medieval History at University College, Dublin since 1968, Professor J.R. SEYMOUR PHILLIPS is the author of many books, including Aymer de Valence Earl of Pembroke, 1307-1324: Baronial Politics in the Reign of Edward II (Oxford, 1972) and The Medieval Expansion of Europe (Oxford and New York, 1988), and has published numerous articles on British, Irish and Welsh history. He is currently writing a volume on Edward II for the 'English Monarchs' series produced by Methuen and the University of California Press. SALLY N. VAUGHN, who received her Ph.D. from the University of California, Santa Barbara, is Professor of History at the University of Houston, Texas. She is the author of many articles and two books, the most recent of which is Anselm of Bee and Robert of Meulan: The Innocence of the Dove and the Wisdom of the Serpent, which was awarded the John Ben Snow Prize for 1988 by the North American Conference on British Studies. The University of Houston awarded her the Research Excellence Award as an Associate Professor in 1989, and Dr. Vaughn is currently completing a monograph entitled Women in Anselm's World: Spiritual Daughters, Aristocratic Allies, and Handmaidens of God. GORDON M. WEINER is Associate Professor of History and Director of the Jewish Studies Program at Arizona State University, Tempe, Arizona. He obtained his Ph.D. from the University of Pennsylvania, and specialises in Jewish history in the late medieval and early modern periods as well as concentrates on the Jewish experience in modern Ireland. He is currently the historical collaborator to the forthcoming Dublin production of The Dolly Men, and is working on another play entitled We Never Let Them In that focuses on the question of Irish neutrality during the era of the holocaust of World War Two. IAN WOOD is currently Senior Lecturer in Medieval History at the University of Leeds, England. His publications include numerous articles on Merovingian and Anglo-Saxon history, and he is co-editor of Early Medieval Kingship; The Christianisation of Scandinavia; People and Places in Northern Europe, 500-1600; and Church and Chronicle in the Middle Ages. Dr. Wood's The Merovingian Kingdoms, 481-751 is now in its final stages of preparation.

Abbreviations

ANS

DNB EHR JHS MGH PL RB RS TRHS VCH

Anglo-Norman Studies: Proceedings of the Battle Conference on Anglo-Norman Studies, ed. R. Allen Brown, 1-4 (1979-82), continued from 1983 as Anglo-Norman Studies Dictionary of National Biography English Historical Review The Haskins Society Journal: Studies in Medieval History Monumenta Germaniae Historica Patrologiae cursus completus, series latina, ed. J.P. Migne, 221 vols. (Paris, 1844-64) Revue Benedictine Rolls Series Transactions of the Royal Historical Society Victoria history of the counties of England

xxn

1 The Map of the Barbarian Invasions: A Longer Look Walter Goffart

In an earlier essay, 'The Map of the Barbarian Invasions: A Preliminary Report', I explored the origins of the well-known map that features many conspicuous tracks and tries, by means of them, to illustrate the movements of northern European barbarian tribes in and around the fifth century A.D.1 I showed that this map was created twice in the eighteenth century, by a Franconian named Johann Georg Hagelgans and, independently, many decades later, by a French marquis and refugee from the Revolution named Emmanuel de Las Cases. New information about these initiators has come my way since then, modifying and enlarging the 'Preliminary Report'.2 I have also widened my acquaintance with historical atlases down to 1870 and can approximately chart the influence of Las Cases's barbarian map in the half century after its publication. Johann Georg Hagelgans, Archivrat to the house of Nassau-Saarbriicken, designed the original track-filled map of the migrationes gentium. It is one of four in an Atlas historicus that features a chronicle in little pictures rather than a series of maps. His depiction of the 'Wanderings of Peoples' contains a sheaf of Volker drawn from fully 2,500 years; traditional participants in the

1. Denis Bethell once turned the study of a collection of holy relics at Reading into a dazzling exposition of medieval culture. I hope that these cartographic relics of a more recent kind will pay fitting homage to the memory of this singularly gifted historian. 2. 'The Map of the Barbarian Invasions: A Preliminary Report', Nottingham Medieval Studies 32 (1988), pp. 49-64; hereafter cited as 'Preliminary Report'. The Research Board of the University of Toronto and the Social Sciences and Humanities Research Council of Canada have generously supported my research. The following abbreviations are used: NUC - National Union Catalogue, Pre-1956 Imprints, 745 vols. (London, 1968-81); for map collections: BL - London, British Library; BN - Paris, Bibliotheque nationale (Impr = main collection); BPL - Boston Public Library; BSB - Munich, Bayerische Staatsbibliothek; DSB - Berlin, Deutsche Staatsbibliothek; LC - Washington, Library of Congress; NYPL - New York Public Library; RGS - London, Royal Geographic Society; UCB - University of California, Berkeley, and Bancroft Library; UIll - University of Illinois; UL - University Library, as specified; UMich - University of Michigan. My references (in square brackets) indicate where I have seen the map or atlas in question; other copies often exist elsewhere.

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Volkerwanderung such as the Goths, Huns and Lombards share the stage with actors ranging from prehistory to the thirteenth-century Tartars. A bibliographic rarity, Hagelgans's Atlas used to exist in America only in an edition of 1737 at Boston Public Library and in one of 1750-51 at the Library of Congress. Both these copies are reprints.3 The original edition appeared as early in the century as 1718; a copy of it was recently acquired in Germany by the Firestone Library at Princeton. The existence of this first edition of the Atlas and much else concerning its author were communicated to me by Dr. Beatrice La Farge, of the university at Frankfurt-am-Main, for whose diligent and fruitful research I am extremely grateful.4 A few years after the Atlas, Hagelgans published a world history in narrative form, called Allgemeiner Tugend- und Helden-Spiegel (1722). The Hessische Landesbibliothek in Wiesbaden generously responded to the request of the University of Toronto Library for a loan that allowed me to consult this very rare book. The long subtitle of Hagelgans's Tugend-Spiegel announces a definite relationship between it and the Atlas.5 In the narrative of 1722 one will find — so the subtitle says — 'the most notable happenings among all peoples upon the earth and the deeds of their rulers, along with the consequences [of their deeds] in temporal rule, [all these] described historically, politically, and morally, together with full explanations of the historical tables (Charten) published under the name Atlas historicus . . . .'6 Hagelgans's subtitle promises more than he delivers. His explanation of the Atlas historicus occupies only about nine pages at the opening of the Tugend-Spiegel. Still, it adds a little to our understanding of the Atlas.

3. The LC copy contains a fifty-year supplement to the chronicle-in-pictures, the one sign that after thirty years Hagelgans still retained an active interest in his Atlas; moreover, its barbarian invasion map sports coloured tracks, the only instance in my experience of colouring in a Hagelgans atlas. In 1751-52 Hagelgans published another historical work, Allgemeine, den Kirchen- und Policeystaat in einen Auszug darstellende Weltchronica, in which he briefly refers to the Atlas and gives us to understand that his notions of the course of history had developed; see 'Preliminary Report', pp. 50, 64 (Supplementary Note). 4. The sale for DM 1,840 is noted in The Map Collector, 50 (Spring, 1990), p. 51 (without naming the buyer). I am indebted to Stephen Ferguson, Curator of Rare Books, Princeton University Library, for information about this acquisition. On Hagelgans: P. Richter, 'Ueber Johann Georg Hagelgans', Nassauische Heimatblatter: Mitteilungen des Vereins fur nassauische Altertumskunde und Geschichtsforschung 3 (1899), pp. 35-49; J.I., 'Medialle auf J.G. Hagelgans,' Annalen des Vereins fur nassauische Altertumskunde und Geschichtsforschung 21 (1889), pp. 193-96 (with pi. VIII). Hagelgans spent most of his working life at Idstein, a town near Wiesbaden and Frankfurt, in whose castle the Nassau archives were located. 5. Johann Georg Hagelgans, Allgemeiner Tugend- und Helden-Spiegel, Darinnen die merkwiirdigste Begebenheiten unter alien Volkern auf Erden, und die Thaten ihrer Regenten, nebst denen daher riihrenden Verdnderungen im Weltlichen Regiment historisch, politisch und moralisch beschreiben, und zugleich die unter dem Nahmen Atlas historicus herausgegeben historische Charten vollig erklaret und mil den vornehmsten Geschichts-Schreibern beleget warden (Frankfurt-am-Main, 1722). No copy is listed in NUC or by the BL or BN. 6. The subtitle closes with a reference to listing the 'highly distinguished' sources on which the Atlas is based; this is in fact done on unnumbered pages at the beginning of the Tugend-Spiegel.

The Map of the Barbarian Invasions

3

The four maps, we are told, are all concerned with ancient history; their straightforward goal is to show the location of places mentioned in the Atlas. Neither statement is entirely candid; at least two of the maps are medieval, and the set combines into a pattern of historical crisis and recovery that Hagelgans presumably chose not to elucidate in 1722.7 The distribution of his picturechronicle, as he spells it out, conforms to the three historical epochs familiar to us, but Hagelgans believed that the middle ages ended with Charlemagne and the Carolingian Renaissance — an opinion having some currency at the time. Christopher Cellarius (1638-1707), the Halle professor instrumental in making the middle ages a period of history, had the epoch last until 1453 in Byzantium, but no later than Charlemagne in the West. In this conception, the presence or absence of a constituted empire was deemed pivotal at least in western Europe; the foundation in 800 of the Romano-Germanic Empire that lived on in the emperors Joseph I (d. 1711) and Charles VI (d. 1740) inaugurated a new and desirable order. One map of the Atlas historicus bears out this view.8 According to Hagelgans, the Atlas's folios of little pictures were meant for the easy perusal of world history. He also thought them well suited to be a mnemonic device: 'The most notable circumstance of every happening is sketched in one or several figures from whose sight one will easily remember the accompanying circumstances [of the event] that one has read'.9 Hagelgans was not without more serious ambitions; the images were somehow related to figures on coins and medals, which they resembled: 'Art lovers are well aware

7. On the maps, 'Preliminary Report', pp. 51-52. 8. The title of an early historical compendium of Cellarius's illustrates the limit he set to the middle ages in the West: Nucleus bistoriae inter cmtiquam et novam mediae, hoc est, ab Augusta Caesare ad Carolum M. in occidento: & ad captam a Turds Constantinopolim in orients productae (Jena, 1676); a later title emphasises the wider limits without signifying a change of mind: Historia medii aevi a temporibus Constantini Magni ad Constantinoplim a Turds captam deducta (1688). Cellanus's posthumously published collection of maps of medieval lands reaches no further than c. 800: Appendix triplex notitiae orbis antiqui Christophori Cellarii (Leipzig, 1776). On Cellarius and the medieval period, see George Gordon, 'Medium aevum and the Middle Ages', Society for Pure English, Tract 19 (Oxford, 1925), pp. 3-28; Lucie Varga, Das Schlagwort vom Finstere Mittelalter (Baden bei Wien, 1932, rpr. Aalen, 1978), the most comprehensive study. Not himself the inventor of media aetas (which, e.g., Ortelius [n. 33, below] casually used in 1590), Cellarius transposed to historical time the philologists' familiar concept of Latinitas mediae aetatis. The idea that there were only two periods, ancient and modern, long held out: a reviewer in Journal des sqavans (July, 1773), p. 376, refers to 'tous les evenemens de Phistoire Moderne, anterieurs a Charlemagne . . .' Hagelgans on the middle ages, Tugend-Spiegel, p. 3r; for the map bearing out 'Quantum mutatus ab illo' (i.e., the foregoing scenes of destruction), see 'Preliminary Report', p.52. 9. Tugend-Spiegel, p. 4r: 'Aus jeder Begebenheit ist auch nur allemahl der merkwurdigste Umstand durch eine oder etlich Figuren entworfen, aus deren Anblick man sich der iibrigen Neben-Umstanden leicht erinnern kan, die man dabey gelesen.' Other comments are equally unhelpful: p. 5r, 'Fangt er [the reader] oben an und fahrt gerad herunter, so findet er in jedem Raum besonders, was ein Volk allein angehet, und bey demselben von Zeit zu Zeiten vorgegangen: fahret er quer iiber die Charte, so hat er den Zusammenhang aller Weltgeschichten zu einer Zeit, und das zwar von Jahr zu Jahren'; pp. 4v-5r, everyone (presumably the owner of the book) is free to place whatever he wishes on the white background.

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of the great mental enjoyment that comes from being able to gaze upon the most famous events of ancient as well as present times on memorial coins and from having them presented to the eyes as a contemporary thing'.10 Such artifacts had drawbacks, however, among them those of being fortuitous and lacking order. The Atlas sought to produce medal-like effects while avoiding the limitations of the genuine article: C A proficient drawing of a palace or royal pleasure garden gives at first sight a complete grasp of the [subject's] beauty and the connections of all its parts; just so I have sought in my historical "maps" to sketch all noteworthy world events in clear and natural figures, and to portray them to the eye all at once as a coherent whole'.11 These comments take us less far than we would like to go. Hagelgans treats the layout of the Atlas as though it were self-explanatory, and the selection of scenes elicits no comment from him. For our purposes, his most regrettable silence concerns the image of migrationes gentium. In a show of comprehensive indifference to the four maps, Hagelgans says nothing inter alia of the portrayal on one background of wanderings from two and a half millennia.12 He seems to be the first of many mapmakers who, having resolved to portray migrations, has found it hard to decide where to start and stop.13 The narrative of the Tugend-Spiegel, from which help might be expected, sheds light only on infrequent details. It is said, for example, that a very ancient gold rush in Spain occasioned an emigration from Lydia (in Asia Minor). Hagelgans probably had a source for this incident in one of the authorities for the Atlas listed in the Tugend-Spiegel; but he did not use these works more critically than he selected them. The outcome for the map is an astonishing track of westward migration across the entire Mediterranean.14 Hagelgans in his capacity as designer of the Atlas might earn more esteem if he were classed among artisans of history-in-pictures rather than among cartographers. When his 'historical atlas' appeared, the first work to be given the title Atlas historique — initially in 1705 — was still proceeding toward completion of its seven volumes. The Amsterdam Atlas was geographic, but its contents are much less concerned with the past than we expect of a work

10. Tugend-Speigel, p. 2r. 11. Ibid., p. 2v, 'Gleichwie nun eine geschickte Zeichnung von einen Pallast oder koniglichen Lustgarten beym ersten Anblick eine vollkommene Erstandniss von desselber Schonheit und ubereinstimmender Verbindung aller dessen Theile schaffet, also habe ich auch alle merckwiirdige Weltbegebenheiten durch ganz deutliche und natiirlich Figuren nach Geographisch- und Chronologischer Ordnung in meinen historischen Charten zu entwerffen, und in gehoriger Zusammenha'ngung dem Auge auf einmahl darzustellen, getrachtet'. 12. Ibid., pp. 262-305, is the region of the book in which comments would appear if any were made. It is symptomatic of Hagelgans's historical knowledge — hardly unique with him at the time — that he believed Scandinavia, Germany (Teutschland, not Germanien), etc., were fully formed entities with proper histories at, say, the time of Augustus. 13. E.g., Alfred C. Haddon, The Wandering of Peoples (Cambridge, 1911; 2nd ed., 1927), map II. The same problem is found among several of the mapmakers discussed below. 14. Tugend-Speigel, p. 80. The incident is situated in A.M. 3000-100; Hagelgans's chronology dates the Incarnation to A.M. 3950. Another line on the migration map seems explained on p. 76. But none of these connections is explicitly made.

The Map of the Barbarian Invasions

5

bearing such a title.15 It is little wonder that, in this fluid situation, Hagelgans could apply the same name to a basically non-geographic work. In 1697 the Nuremberg printer Christoph Weigel published a work called 'Engravings of the Histories, or Remembrancer of Times', an impressive picture history whose various reprintings testify to success in the book trade. Each century is allotted one page with ten little engravings of major events; the ages before and after Christ are both attended to. Accompanied by a running text, Weigel's engravings are expressly intended as an aid to remembering history. Soon after the appearance of Hagelgans's Atlas, in the year of his Tugend-Spiegel, Weigel's handsome Sculptura spawned a smaller-size, artistically coarser version called Die Welt in eine Nuss (1722); translations into several languages attest to its wide sale. Weigel produced picture books similar to the Sculptura historiarum for the Bible and even for eighteenth-century events.16 In design, Hagelgans's Atlas bears little resemblance to Weigel's: Hagelgans's pictures are smaller, unframed, and more numerous for equivalent spans of time; its goal of providing continuous illustrations for the course of history seems more ambitious than Weigel's. But the two works clearly document attempts at history-in-pictures. Another route to the same goal involved basing

15. (Zacharias Chatelain), Atlas historique, ou nouvelle introduction a I'histoire, a la chronologic et a la geographic ancienne et moderne, representee dans de nouvelles cartes OH I'on remarque I'etablissement des etats et empires du monde, leur duree, leur chute, in 7 volumes (Amsterdam, 1705-20). To judge by the number of surviving copies, the Atlas sold very well. I distinguish a title in which atlas and historical are paired, from variants such as Geographische en historische beschryvingh der vier bekende werelds-deelen (Utrecht, 1683). Even after the mid eighteenth century, one finds titles like Atlas historique, geographique et topographique de I'Empire d'Allemagne, 2 vols. (Pans: Julien, 1758-59), for works whose historical content is confined to printed text. See Journal des sqavans (March 1759), pp. 52-57, and cf., ibid. (March 1758), pp. 131-32 - an atlas of present-day Lower Saxony whose main title is 'Atlas historique' (Paris 1757). The Chatelain Atlas, volume 3 (sometimes 2, part 2) (1708), shows four tracks coming from the Continent to two landing places in Britain; this may be the earliest representation of a barbarian people storming a part of the Roman Empire. Chatelain is also first with the track of a crusader (ibid., no. 45). Another very early map with a barbarian track is Henri Liebaux, Carte des Gaules ou I'on voit les dominations auxquelles elles etoient soumises, lorsque Clovis vint y jetter les fondements de la monarchic Fran^oise, single sheet, in a set of three (BL: K.3.86); a 'Route de Clovis' is drawn, resembling a causeway, in a free interpretation of information in Gregory of Tours, Historiae, book 2, chapter 9 (near the end), no. 42. 16. Christoph Weigel (1654-1725), Sculptura historiarum et temporum memoratrix (Nuremberg, 1697 and later) [NYPL, Newberry Library, Princeton]. (I am very grateful to Dr. William Stoneman, Librarian of the Scheide Collection, Princeton, for providing me with photocopies of the Sculptura illustrations.) The historical content was supplied by Gregory Andreas Schmidt, completed after his death by Samuel Faber, principal of the Nuremberg gymnasium and compiler of the geographical Atlas scholasticoeporicus (Nuremberg, 1711-16). Weigel published Passio Domini nostn Jesu Christi (Augsburg, 1693), a picture Bible with 100 plates, and Historiae celebriores veteris et novi testamenti iconibus repraesentatae (Nuremberg, 1700 and later). Weigel did Die Welt in eine Nuss (Nuremberg, 1722; many later printing and translations) in cooperation with Johann David Kohler, professor of history at the nearby university of Altdorf. Kohler was a friend of Faber's whose geographical atlas he developed before undertaking several geographical compilations of his own. With Weigel, Kohler also produced a picture album of memorable eighteenth-century events.

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narratives on coins and medals; the histories of Martin Luther and of the United Dutch Provinces in this format are surely not alone.17 Besides, collectors in Holland and France prized engravings of historical scenes — portraits most of all; the loose sheets were gathered into portfolios. Books or alburns of historical pictures like Weigel's and Hagelgans's are a rarer phenomenon, but — like the histories based on coins — were doubtless produced by more than two designers.18 A fuller appreciation of Hagelgans's Atlas lies in this direction. The illustration of history by means of pictures was more advanced at the turn of the eighteenth century than illustration with maps. There is no sign that his migrationes gentium, let alone its three companion pieces, influenced later cartographers or was even seen by them. The map of the barbarian invasions that was destined to be welcomed and copied first appeared in London in 1801 as part of the Genealogical, Chronological, Historical, and Geographical Atlas by a French naval lieutenant in exile named Emmanuel de Las Cases. The Atlas was signed with the pseudonym A. Le Sage, which it continued to retain, much like a trademark, long after Le Sage was identified as Las Cases. My 'Preliminary Report' set out the essentials about Las Cases's life, education, limited qualifications for atlas-making, and astonishing success not only with the Atlas but even more with his later, wholly non-cartographic composition, the Memorial de Sainte-Helene (1823).19 Miscellaneous details that have since come to light can be added here, along with a longer consideration of the form of Las Cases's atlas and the role of tracks on its maps. An account will then be given of the progeny of Las Cases's barbarian design. The original Le Sage Atlas obtained at least its finishing touches at Las Cases's business premises at 26 South Street, Manchester Square, where he also resided. This street is the eastern leg of today's Blandford Street; Las Cases lived on the south side, a 17. Christian Juncker, Vita. D. Martini Lutheri et successum evangelicae reformationis . . . historia nummis cxlv atque iconihus . . . illustrata (Frankfurt and Leipzig, 1699) and Das gulden und silberne Ehre-Gedachtniss des theuren Gottes-Lehrers Martini Lutheri (Frankfurt, 1706); Zacharias Chatelain (cf., above, n. 14), Histoire ahregee des provinces unies des Pays-Bus (Compendium historiarum Belgii foederati) (Amsterdam, 1701) [BL: Cup. 404.b. 14]; the work is a miniature anticipation of the Chatelain Atlas historique. 18. On collections of historical prints in the Netherlands and France, Frederick Muller, De Nederlandsche gescbiedenis in Platen: beredeneerde bescbrijving van Nederlansche Historieplaten, zinneprenten en historische kaarten, 4 vols. (Amsterdam, 1863-81), and Jacques Le Long, Bibliotheque historique de la France, 2nd ed. by C.M. Fevret de Fontette, 5 vols. (Paris, 1768-78), iv, llff (catalogue of Fevret's own historical engravings, organised in chronological order of subject, much like Muller's future Dutch catalogue). Johann Philip Abelin et al., Theatrum Europaeum oder . . . denkwurdigen Geschichten, 21 vols. (Frankfurt, 1633-1738): a chronicle of recent history chiefly prized for its beautiful illustrations, initially by Matthaus Merian (1593-1650) (Encyclopedia Britannica, llth ed., 1, pp. 41-42); portraits predominate in a spectrum that includes battle scenes, plans of fortifications, some maps and city plans. Another attempt is Jean Louis Aubert (and Jean Lemaire, engr.), Les traits de I'historie universelle, sacree et profane, 5 vols., 8° (Amsterdam-Paris, 1760-62) (BN:G.14,479-14,483), which has not been seen by me. But see the reference in Journal des sgavans (November, 1760), pp. 127-28. 19. 'Preliminary Report', pp. 53-56 with nn. 8-14. The Atlas appeared in 1801, but the map of the invasions bears the copyright date August 1800.

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7

few steps from Manchester Street and in easy reach of the square, to the south, where he daily called on his good friends and English patrons, Sir Thomas and Lady Clavering.20 The duke of Gloucester, to whom the Atlas was dedicated, was a brother of George III. Some twenty years earlier, he had accepted the dedication of two volumes of a historical bestseller profoundly different from Las Cases's, namely Gibbon's Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire2^ Las Cases had time to market the English Atlas and produce an abridged, less expensive edition before he accepted the terms of an amnesty for emigres and returned to France. He at once set in motion the Paris edition that would long be the mainstay of his fortunes; its slightly rearranged title was Atlas historique, genealogique, chronologique et geographiqiie de A. Le Sage22 For five years Las Cases contented himself with cramped quarters and left in Brittany his wife and the firstborn son whom he had never seen. The inaugural French edition was published from his rue Saint-Florentin address (near Talleyrand's house and the Ministry of Marine). As in London, an imposing body of subscribers had been enrolled — 900 in all. The names of the original subscribers may not survive, but one roll does in a copy of the 1806 edition at Harvard. Well furnished with Napoleonic notables, the list numbers more schoolmasters than scholars; the only recognizable geographer on it is the aged Edme Mentelle.23

20. The A to Z of Regency London (Lympne Castle, Kent, 1985), no. 11 Da; the complementary North St. is today's Aybrook St. (The early nineteenth-century names continue to appear in the Victorian A to Z.} A strong attraction of French emigres to Manchester Square was the Spanish Embassy with its Roman Catholic chapel: Margery Weiner, The French Exiles, 1789-1815 (London, 1960), p.121. Thomas Clavering (1771-1853) was the eighth baronet, with a seat at Axwell Park, County Durham, and extensive lands in the north; his wife, Clare, came from Anjou; he married her in 1791 while travelling in France: G.E. Cokayne, Complete Baronetage, 3, 1649-1664 (Exeter, 1903), pp. 205-6 (Cokayne's figures suggest that Clavering was not extravagantly rich, as sometimes suggested). The Clavering-Las Cases relationship was reciprocal. Las Cases helped the Claverings in their ten-year internment in France, begun when the Peace of Amiens collapsed: E. de Las Cases, Memorial de Sainte-Helene ed. Gerard Walter, Bibliotheque de la Pleiade, 2 vols. (Paris, 1956-57), 1, pp. 1069, 1071. 21. Oxford Book of Literary Anecdotes (Oxford, 1975) p. 109, no. 159; on William Henry, duke of Gloucester (1743-1805), Dictionary of National Biography, 21, pp. 348-49; banished from court in 1772 on account of a secret marriage, he spent part of 1773-78 abroad, mainly in Italy (where his son was born in 1776). 22. The copy of the 1801 Atlas at the RGS contains the list of English subscribers. The Select Maps Out of Le Sage's Complete Historical Atlas (London, 1802) contains eighteen maps (barbarians omitted) and sold for £3 10s. (The full price was £4 14s.) The sole copy known to me, at Cambridge UL, also has a subscribers' list; I have not compared it to that at RGS. The biographers and bibliographers of Las Cases tend to minimise the extent of his London publications, which French libraries lack; he is often said to have 'conceived' the atlas while an emigre and carried it out after returning to Paris. On Las Case's repatriation, 'Preliminary Report', p. 52 with n. 9 (his own undue disparagement of the London Atlas). 23. About Las Cases's entresol on the rue Saint-Florentin, Jean Tulard in E. de Las Cases, Memorial de Sainte-Helene, ed. J. Schmidt (Paris, 1968), p. 8; cf. Emmanuel de Las Cases, Las Cases: Le memorialiste de Napoleon (Paris, 1954), p. 100. His engagement and marriage, Las Cases, Memorial, ed. Walter, 1, p. xxxvii with n.**. One copy of the Le Sage atlas, BN: Ge.DD.4796 (104), has bound into it a printed 'Note des cartes et ordre des livraisons [from (continued)

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In the frantic years 1800-4 Las Cases established his fortunes in two capitals. It is little wonder that the fully finished and authoritative text of the Atlas in its original state is not found in the initial Paris edition of 1803-4 so much as in the new and more leisurely edition of 1806. Las Cases's efforts to win favour with the current regime are documented here by the addition of a prominent genealogical table of the Bonapartes.24 The next year saw his wife and son finally move to Paris; Las Cases, who had married in 1799, could begin family life. Signs of success were looming. 1807 brought the backhanded compliment of a pirated edition; produced in Florence, it was long central to the diffusion of the Atlas in Italy.25 A more troubling counterfeit appeared in 1814, a critical year for the Napoleonic regime, to which Las Cases had attached

(continued) the printer Jules Didot] de 1'Atlas historique de A. Le Sage' (one would like to think that the 'Note' is by Las Cases). A small, firm hand has written in the margin how the original instalments compare with the order of the 2nd ed. (= 1806). Various dates, including 1802 (the year of Las Cases's return to Paris), are indicated on some of the maps (many are undated). The subscription list (Las Cases, Memorialiste, p. 100, refers to its presence in a four-page prospectus) is catalogued among the BN Impr, but was off the shelf when I called for it; 'Preliminary Report', p. 54 n. 10. The list at Harvard [Map Collection, MA 80. IF] seems to be the nearest approximation, but refers to the edition of 1806. Down for fifty copies is Mme. Coinde, a former neighbour of Las Cases's on South St., who would produce the English editions of 1813 and 1818. Edme Mentelle (1730-1815) was not so much a geographer as a teacher with numerous publications; instructor in geography and history at the ecole militaire from 1760 to 1792, he had probably taught Las Cases; see J.M. Querard, La France litteraire, 12 vols. (Paris, 1827-64), 6, pp. 46-49; J.F. Michaud, Biographic universelle, 27 (rpr. Graz, 1968), pp. 658-61; Leslie R. Marchant, 'Edmunde Mentelle and Francois-Simon Mentelle', Geographers Biobihliographical Studies, ed. T.W. Freeman, 9 (London-New York, 1987), pp. 93-103 (where did Marchant find the form 'Edmunde' for 'Edme'?). 24. Very fine copies at Harvard (above, n. 23) and BN: Ge.DD.4796 (105). The addition of the Tastes napoleoniens de 1796, a 1806', with a little inset map, 'Etat de 1'Europe en 1807', was held against Las Cases after the fall of Napoleon, but he turned his loyalty to good advantage in the Memorial. When Las Cases sent Napoleon a special copy of the 1806 edition, the emperor was otherwise occupied; the Atlas passed him by till the period of his personal acquaintance with Las Cases; Frederic Masson, Napoleon a Sainte-Helene, 1815-1821 (6th ed., Paris, 1912), p. 145. 25. Atlas historique . . . par M. Le Sage avec corrections et additions (Florence, 1806-7) [LC, Amsterdam UL]; this was the source of the Italian translation: A. Le Sage, Atlante storico etc. (Florence, 1813-14) [LC]; also at the LC: ibid., Naples, 1826, and 3 vols., Venice, 1826-40. I am not certain whether a legitimate (improved) edition or piracy should be seen in Le Sage, Atlas historique etc., ed. Joseph Marchal (Brussels, 1827), reprinted four times down to 1853. Marchal states that Las Cases, preoccupied by his political career, had long left the Atlas to its publisher, Sourdon, whose widow could not sustain the responsibility. As though to bear him out, Querard, France litteraire, 4, p. 586, and J.C. Brunet, Manuel de librairie, 6 vols. (Paris, 1860-65), 3, p. 859, give 1826 as the year of the final (Paris) edition of Las Cases's Atlas; but supplements continued to be issued; a 1829 ed. is at LC, BPL, and the Osterreichischer Nationalbibliothek, Vienna; and there is a Paris edition of 1835, cited below, n. 38; cf. J.M. Querard, La litterature francaise contemporaine, 6 vols. (Paris, 1842-57), 4, p.626 (the 1835 edition was given four or more configurations aimed at different clienteles). We are left wondering whether the Brussels version was authorized or not. On Marchal, eventually a member of the Belgian Academy and librarian of the Bibliotheque de Bourgogne, see A. Wauters in Biographie nationale de Belgique, 13 (1894-95), pp. 430-43; the 1820s were a low point for him.

The Map of the Barbarian Invasions

9

his fortunes. In London, Las Cases's original publisher, J. Barfield, issued a Complete Genealogical, Historical, Chronological, and Geographical Atlas, specifying that it was 'according to the plan of Le Sage, greatly improved'; the title was identical to that of 1801 except for the prefix 'complete'. Although the work travels under the name C.V. Lavoisne, Lavoisne did not outlive 1807; he was replaced by C. Gros and J. Aspen, London school teachers, the first of whom signed a barbarian invasions map much changed from Le Sage's. Some improvements embodied in Lavoisne's atlas were genuine, but there was worsening, too, and the share of appropriation far outweighed the editorial changes. Perhaps because the authentic Le Sage/Las Cases atlas had a mediocre English translation, the Lavoisne version did well in English-speaking markets, especially the United States, where reprintings took place in Philadelphia (1820, 1821).26 Besides, the 'method' of Le Sage was extended to the New World: two Philadelphia publishers, Henry Charles Carey and Isaac Lea, joined forces in A Complete Historical, Chronological, and Geographical American Atlas . . . to the Year 1822, whose title and explicit acknowledgements gladly reveal the inspiration of Las Cases and Lavoisne. A French translation of 'the Atlas carried out in America', naming Le Sage but not the Philadelphians, brought their work to France three years later.27 Las Cases called forth new work guided by his 'method' in France itself. In 1826 Adrien Jarry de Mancy published the first edition of what would become a moderately well received Atlas historique et chronologique des litteratures anciennes et modernes, des sciences et des beaux-arts. He was well aware that sales would not be hurt by affirming that the Atlas was 'd'apres la methode et sur le plan de VAtlas de A. Le Sage'. The Le Sage method is not here associated with geographical maps, of which Jarry provides none; it means 'text in columns, irregularly arranged, partly in colours to indicate topical division', presumably on map-size pages. Jarry's atlas of literatures was only a start; he produced three or more works 'in the Le Sage manner,' including 26. On the English translation, see 'Preliminary Report', p. 58 n. 22. Commerce is more likely than politics to explain Lavoisne's atlas: the retention of the original title points in Barfield's direction; introductory comments (unpaginated) advert several times to 'the Proprietor' who kept the enterprise going after Lavoisne's death. C.V. Lavoisne and C. Gros, New Genealogical, Historical and Chronological Atlas: A New Guide to History (London, 1807), historical tables without maps (1809 ed. at the National Library of Scotland); then comes the Complete . . . Adas (title as above) (London, 1814; 1822; 1830; 1840; Philadelphia, 1820; 3rd ed. 1821); BL records 1814, but the introduction (reproduced in the U.S. edition of 1820) is dated 1817, which tallies better than 1814 with the review in The Portfolio 8 (1819), p. 444. Mme. Coinde's translation, bearing the Paris form of Las Cases's title, was entrusted to a different printer from Barfield (1813); was it meant to be a preemptive strike at Las Cases's original publisher? There is no trace of Lavoisne in biographical repertories; about Gros (who clearly had the leading editorial part) and Jehosaphat Aspin, British Biographical Archive, fiche 491, no. 16 and fiche 41, nos. 363-64. 27. Philadelphia, 1822 [LC]; the atlas is about America. Medievalists find the names of the two compilers strangely familiar: Henry Charles Lea, the son of one of the pair named after the other, is a patriarch of medieval history in the U.S. The French version: J.A. Buchon, Atlas geographique, statistique, historique et chronologique des deux Ameriques, traduit de I'Atlas execute en Amerique d'apres Lesage (Paris, 1825) [UCB-Bancroft].

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single-sheet historical tables of national revolutions.28 Unlike him, Weiss de la Richerie left unacknowledged the debt owed to the Le Sage atlas by his Atlas politique de la, France . . . depuis 1789 jusqu'au regne de Charles X.29 Between legitimate editions, pirated ones, translations in all European languages, and works modelled on its design, the Las Cases Atlas does not leave its popularity in doubt. No set of non-biblical and non-classical historical maps had ever had a comparable circulation. Modern map libraries, whose holdings tend to be almost as individualised as manuscript collections, can be counted on to have the Le Sage Atlas in one or more copies and editions. Las Cases's originality results in large part from his ignorance of the course that the design of historical atlases had been taking for the past half century. The structure of his own work stems from the then standard geographic atlas of the world. This was unusual and distinctive. A contemporary German reviewer well versed in developments since 1750 spelled out what readers were entitled to expect of a work with Le Sage's title: 'An historical atlas must . . . supply many maps (Landkarten) and they must follow each other in chronological order, so as to present to the eye the gradual changes in the setting of events'. A like-minded commentator observed that the German public asked for much more from an historical atlas than Le Sage offered; not content with fragments, they wished 'to trace the course of world history in its continuity'.30 This model was not for Las Cases; he felt no commitment to provide quantity and continuity. Each of his maps stood by itself, as the focus for letterpress amplifications; it was not combined into a series with other maps.31 28. An edition in 1826 is listed in NUC, and one of 1827-29 in Querard, France litteraire, 4, p. 209. I have seen that of Paris, 1831 [UMich; BN Impr]. An Italian translation (Venice, 1840) exists, bound together with the Venice 1826 Le Sage Atlas [Princeton]. Definition of the Le Sage method: NUC, 278, p. 232. Further items in the Le Sage manner by Jarry de Mancy [BN Impr]: Atlas constitutionel (Paris, 1826); Tableau historique des revolutions nationales, in single sheets (Portugal, Switzerland, Poland) (Paris, n.d.); Travail, industrie, commerce . . . Adas historique (Paris, n.d.). Cf., F.A. Josseran, Carte chronologique de I'histoire universelle, as well as Canes des origines, inventions et decouvertes, both (Amsterdam, 1830). Unfortunately, I have not seen these two works. 29. Paris, 1828; 12 tables [BN Impr]. An enigmatic trace of Las Cases's atlas is in Paris, Archives Nationales, Marine Service Hydrographique, 6JJ/86, nos. 36-48: a painstaking MS copy of certain parts (text only, no ma.ps); all colour washes are applied, all symbols recorded; undated, unidentified and clearly a fragment of a longer text. This might be handwritten copy for the printer, but there is no way to tell what it is. A collation with the printed atlas might help. 30. Review in Allgemeine Literatur-Zeitung (Halle) no. 346, 4 (Dec. 1804), p. 522. The like-minded commentator is G. Hassel, in Allgemeine geographische Ephemeriden, new series, 15 (1825), pp. 143—44; he considered Le Sage to be the French atlas. No sooner had Hassel spoken than the German public began to prove itself thoroughly content with the Historisch-genealogisch-geographischer Atlas von Le Sage, graf Las Cases, ed. and tr. Alexander von Dusch (Carlsruhe, 1825-28). Twenty years later, a Munich reviewer expressed the hope that Karl Spruner's new, exemplary atlas (below, n. 41) would at last wean Germans away from Le Sage: Akademie der Wissenschaften, Munich, Gelehrte Anzeigen 18 (1844), col. 681. 31. The map pages of Las Cases's Atlas had to be twice printed on different presses, once with the letterpress text, then with the map engraving (the colour washes could then (continued)

The Map of the Barbarian Invasions

11

Unaffected by the method that others considered normative, Las Cases espoused a different, yet familiar approach: '[Le Sage] believes that an historical atlas has to be organized in the way our geographical atlases [and textbooks] are generally organized. In these one finds first a map of the globe, then Europe with individual maps of the individual states and their provinces, then the remaining parts of the world with the individual maps pertaining to them'. The reviewer shows how the French Atlas follows this scheme, partly in its letterpress tables. He thought Le Sage went astray not only by presenting particular maps disconnected from each other, but also by being arbitrary in what he portrayed.32 The comments of this anonymous critic are more valuable for clarifying the structure and context of Las Cases's Atlas than for gauging its reception. Regardless of what he and others like him believed, the public responded with enthusiasm to Las Cases's approach. Perhaps the newest feature of the Le Sage Atlas is its presentation of several maps of modern history. For a long time, atlases had almost routinely provided separate groups of 'ancient' and 'modern' maps; but whereas the former were historical reconstructions, 'modern' maps were up-to-date portrayals of current topography, not historical at all by our lights. Geographic depictions of past eras favoured lands and moments associated with the Bible and classical antiquity. Since 1700 the range of historical maps had widened into the middle ages, and several cartographers had attempted veritable chronicles, with maps extending interval by interval from the Dispersion of the sons of Noah to the present. But such collections paid hardly any attention to recent history; a scene like 'Europe after the Thirty Years' War' — close to obligatory in atlases since the nineteenth century — was still remote from the repertory of subjects acceptable for mapping.33 Las Cases broke the logjam, probably without realising it was there. Just one year after the London debut of the Le Sage Atlas, there appeared in north Germany the first instalment of Christian Kruse's Atlas zur Ubersicht der Geschichte aller europdischen Staaten; its fourth and final instalment was (continued)

be applied). Cf., Arthur H. Robinson, 'Mapmaking and Map Printing', in David Woodward, ed., Five Centuries of Map Printing (Chicago, 1975), p.8; Judith A. Tynor, Development of the American Atlas, 1790-1980, California Map Society Occasional Paper 2 (Los Angeles, 1989), p.3, comments that the Lavoisne of 1820 was a rare and expensive example in America of combining letterpress and engraving on the same page. The organising and training of teams for colour-washing elicited a comment from Las Cases, but the problem of the costly dual printing (in all editions and offshoots) seems to have been faced with equanimity and indifference. The Chatelain Atlas historique (above, n. 15) may be alone among historical atlases before Las Cases in having pages that combine maps and text. 32. Allg. Liter.-Zeitung (Dec. 1804), pp. 522, 523, 524 (author's defective historical knowledge), 525 (letterpress surrounding the maps consists of fragments of all sorts), 532 (quotation). 33. The prototype for historical maps (biblical and ancient) is A. Ortelius, Parergon to his Theatrum orbis terramm (Antwerp, 1579ff.). Chronicles in maps: Atlas complet des revolutions, MS (1747?) [BN: Ge.CC.1307]; Les revolutions de I'univers . . . depuis la dispersion des Enfans de Noe (Paris, 1763; rpr 1775) [BN, CambridgeUL]; J.C. Gatterer (1727-99), Charten (to accompany his teaching), largely lost, described in Historisches Journal von Mitglieder der koniglichen historischen Instituts zu Gottingen 8 (1776), iv. Stuck, p. 17.

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published in 1818, capping a collection that provided one map per century from A.D. 400 to 1816. Kruse's Atlas is at least as momentous in historical mapping as Las Cases's. Contemporaries applauded its comprehensive coverage of the geography of the middle ages (400-1500), yet its historical maps from 1600 to 1816 were even more of an innovation than the medieval ones. The modern sheets of Kruse's Atlas were issued in the last instalment, in 1818.34 More than fifteen years earlier, Las Cases had equipped his London atlas with maps of modern history. Las Cases's idea of how to make a map historical was to run across its face a gaudily coloured line tracing a campaign or journey. On this rudimentary basis, he easily outstripped Kruse in transposing modern history onto maps. Tracks were not a common feature of historical maps before 1800 (or afterwards for that matter). They were reserved for a limited selection of scenes, slowly broadening over the years, such as the travels of St. Paul and the retreat of the Ten Thousand; the routes of explorers and navigators were generally welcomed (not primarily in historical atlases); the paroxysm of tracks in Hagelgans's migrationes gentium was isolated.35 Las Cases's historical maps not only innovated by the choice of modern subjects but also cast aside inhibitions in the deployment of tracks: the Stuart kings in civil war; Gustavus Adolf us in war-torn Germany; the duke of Berwick, Villeroy, and other generals contending over the Spanish Succession; Charles XII of Sweden marching across eastern Europe; Napoleon and Suvarov criss-crossing Italy; Le Vaillant, Bruce, Mungo Park and others penetrating the interior of Africa. The Le Sage images of Europe and every country except France are vividly highlighted by bright tracks of modern campaigners.

34. Christian Kruse, Atlas zum Obersicht der Geschichte aller europdischen Lander und Staaten, 3rd ed. (Leipzig-Halle, 1822), complete in seventeen maps [Stockholm Royal Library]; the atlas sold well and is not rare. Kruse outlined the full scope of his Atlas in his original announcement of 1800, Allg. Liter.-Zeitung, Intelligenzblatt (1800), no. 190, col. 1589-92 (the announcement also appeared in Allg. geog. Ephem.); he even intended — though this did not come about — to produce the most recent maps out of order so as to facilitate comparison of past with present (col. 1591). His project was entirely independent of Las Cases. There were some maps of modern history in the historical atlases of J.M. Hase (1743) and G.A. Rizzi-Zannoni (1764). 35. For a retrospective selection of early maps with tracks, see J. Le Clerc (Clericus), Atlas antiquus, sacer, ecclesiasticus et prof anus (Amsterdam, 1705): more tracks in sacred than in profane scenes; even Alexander has no track. By the end of the eighteenth century, the tracks of documented campaigns by great ancient generals (Xerxes, Pyrrhus, Hannibal, etc.) had been mapped. Travellers, a selection: T. Stackhouse, publ., The World with Tracks of Modern Navigators, in Universal Atlas . . . Maps for Ancient and Modern Geography (London, 1790), nos. 2-3; Laurie and Whittle, publ., A New Chart of the World on Wright's or Mercator's Projection in which are exhibited all the parts hitherto explored or discovered, with the tracks of the British circumnavigators Byron, Wallis, Carteret and Cook (1794), in Thomas Kitchin, A New Universal Atlas (London, 1798), no. 1 [Yale]; C.F. Delamarche, Atlas elementaire, 3rd ed. (Paris, 1806); Eustache Herisson, Nouvel atlas portatif, 3rd ed. (Paris, 1811), map 2; P. Lapie, Atlas complet du precis de la geographic universelle de M. Malte-Brun (Paris, 1812), nos. 19, 20; Heinrich Keller, Erdkarte nach den Bonne'schen Projection alle fur die Erdkunde ergiebigen Entdeckungsreisen zu Wasser und zu Lande von der Mitten des 9te Jahrhundert bis jetzt (Weimar, 1814).

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Eschewing sequential maps, Las Cases preferred synchronic ones, such as John Speed's almost prototypical Invasions of England (1627). The Le Sage Atlas reproduces Speed's Invasions in an attenuated form, indicating the sites of events in a pleasing manner but also adding tracks for campaigns by Charles I and II and the Young Pretender.36 The eclecticism that, here, brings together William the Conqueror, the Spanish Armada and the Stuart Pretender of 1745 is common to the Le Sage maps. The route of Hannibal's Italian invasion in the third century B.C. is traced on a Roman Empire divided by the administrative boundaries of the fourth century A.D.; an overloaded supplement of 1835 for medieval history and geography lumps together the empires of Ermanaric, Byzantium, Mohamet and Charlemagne, along with tracks for Hengist going to conquer England, Rurik going to found Novgorod, and Philip Augustus and Louis IX going on crusade.37 The solitary map of Italy sets the marchroutes of the latest conquerors alongside a table, in the margins, of the most famous Italian painters, their styles, their masterpieces, and additional aesthetic details. The maps nonchalantly combine disparate times; they are fragmentary, as hostile reviewers stressed; the featuring of one campaigner excludes others no less worthy — without explanation; each map has its particular title and object.38 Las Cases had been in his middle teens when he exchanged school for a midshipman's berth. Detached from erudite, let alone intellectual pretensions, he was content that his Atlas should divert and please and, most of all, impart simple facts. He said of himself that when a penniless, striving tutor in

36. John Speed, 'The invasions of England, with all their Ciuill wars since the Conquest', in A Prospect of the Most Famous Parts of the World (London, 1627), p. 121, no. 22. Many editions, including a facsmile; a fine illuminated copy is at the British Art Center, Yale University: Atlas (fo) 32 12/8/76. Current events made the map timely in the era of the French Revolution. See J. Enouy, The Invasions of England and Ireland (London, 1797, 15 Sept.; 2nd ed., 1801, 12 Aug.), in New and Elegant Imperial Sheet Atlas (London, 1807) [Oxford]; P.P. Tardieu, Carte des descentes faittes en Angleterre et en Irlande depuis Guillaume le Conquerant (n.p., an VI [1798]) [Oxford]; P.G. Chanlaire, Carte des Isles Brittaniques et des cotes, qui les avoisinent, servant a I'intelligence de I'histoire des descentes faittes [sic] dans ces isles depuis les Remains jusqu'a present, avec la date et la notice de chacune des ces descentes (Paris, 1803-4): I have not seen Chanlaire's map, only the review in Allg. geog. Ephem., 18 (1805), pp. 214-16. Historical maps like Speed's are not common; some others like it published in the eighteenth century: Chatelain, Hist, abregee (cited above, n. 17); Matthaeus Seutter, Historia imperil Romano-Germanici . . . in mappa exhibita (Augsburg, 1746?) [BL: 26905.(26.)]; and Historia Circuit Bavarici (Augsburg, c. 1745; repr. 1770) [BSB]. 37. Le Sage, Atlas historique, edition populaire (Paris, 1835), no. 8 ter; Ermanaric belongs to the fourth century, St. Louis to the thirteenth. No. 8 bis contains the comment, 'distinguished professors have regretted that the middle ages are not detailed enough in the Atlas de Lesage, [therefore] the author hastens to publish the present Table . . . " Las Cases was not the first to assemble on the same map actors from a wide spectrum of time (e.g., Hagelgans). But the practice was not generalised and routine. 38. Revue encyclopedique, 32 (1826), pp. 744-48, at 745: 'la marche des guerres les plus fameuses est tracee par un ruban colorie.' The reviewer's comment is more benevolent than accurate: Las Cases charts Berwick's less than 'famous' exploits in Spain, while disregarding many important wars, e.g., the earlier ones of Louis XIV.

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England, he taught at night what he had learned in the morning.39 He wanted to stimulate his pupils' retentive capacities. How could the multiplicity of historical details be durably inculcated? In a context of anxious schooling, the intrusion of Hannibal into the fourth-century Christian Roman Empire matters just as little as does the nine-century convergence on a single map of Ermanaric, Rurik and St. Louis. Onlookers are not expected to reflect thoughtfully upon a total image, only to extract separate pieces of information quickly, painlessly, productively. Though precocious in depicting modern history, Las Cases exerted the most traceable influence on historical atlases by his Map Exhibiting the Transmigration, Course, Establishment, or Destruction of the Barbarians, that invaded the Roman Empire. Hagelgans has lines running every which way; Las Cases's map is carefully trimmed to produce an intelligible image. There are loose ends: a box labelled 'Danes' is stuck inconsequentially onto Jutland; another box covers Armenia or Kurdistan with the message, 'Various tribes of Turks, Munguls, Tartars. See Maps 19 & 20' (i.e., the maps of modern Asia and the Turkish empire). Like most designers of barbarian invasion maps, Las Cases fell short of keeping his actors under firm chronological control, but his overhangs, limited to display boxes, are slight. The map is very bare: thick continental outlines on a white background; no place names; no grid. Las Cases offers approximate geography, rough notions of location, not navigators' charts; he has no illusions about how accurately this history may be linked with geography. If the box of Turks and Mongols is disregarded, the implied course of events extends from the Hunnic attack on the Goths in the 370s to the Moslem conquest of Spain in 711. In keeping with the apparent goal of simplification, the cast of migrants is limited to front-rank actors. Las Cases makes no pretence of realism. With a possible touch of humour, the Ostrogoths, Visigoths and Gepids are lined up like ninepins in order to be knocked over by the Huns, whose line runs through them. Movement lines, mainly shown by coloured ribbons, are prominent but not pressed to the point of crowding. Italy gets filled early with the ribbons of Visigothic invasion; as a result, two later invaders, the Ostrogoths and the Lombards, are parked outside as coloured boxes containing a note that they conquered Italy in such and such a year. All lines do not denote migration. The boxes marking Ostrogothic and Lombard origins (or points of departure) are linked to the conquest-of-Italy boxes by thin dotted lines, and the Ostrogothic line swings around to avoid boxes in its way. The dotted lines signify an undefined connection, not a march-route. The Le Sage 'Transmigration' reflects a consistently functional view of history; the internal details are severely subordinated to what mattered for the future. If Las Cases owed to Speed the synchronism of his historical map of England, the transmigration map is his personal contribution to cartography of this kind.

39. Las Cases, Memorialiste, pp. 81-82.

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Synchronic in showing events of at least five centuries, yet unified by its theme, the map of the invasions was the perfect illustration of how geography could help students of history. Our tendency is to 'read' it or any its progeny as the integrated picture of a period or collective phenomenon, but Las Cases did not plan it for absorption as a whole. Despite the dynamic look given by the flow of lines, it is a static chart, just like Speed's Invasions, a geographic supplement to a letterpress outline (sometimes numbered) of historical facts. What matters is the relationship of boxes and ribbons to topographical outlines: the map is a learner's guide, geographically rudimentary, visually aiding anyone forced to learn seriatim the origin of the various peoples, their travels and destinies. The Le Sage Atlas was a tool for cramming, useful for those, young and old, wishing to equip themselves hastily with needed particles of knowledge.40 The Le Sage Atlas, though enormously popular and highly esteemed, did not make the multi-tracked map of tribal wanderings obligatory in collections of historical maps; such unanimity was not attained until our century, or the last decade or two of the nineteenth. There was enduring resistance to the multi-tracked design, probably best voiced by Karl Spruner, author of the century's standard-setting historical atlas (1837-46). Spruner's collection, however different from Las Cases in details, conformed to Las Cases's design in its overall organisation by continents and countries. Yet Spruner wanted no barbarian tracks; his atlas, like many others in the century, especially German ones, dealt with the age in the manner of Kruse: one map for A.D. 400, another for 500; comparison of the two sufficed to illustrate change.41 The outcome is that the circumstantial map of the barbarian invasions struck its deepest roots not in the land with a primary stake in the Volkerwanderung, but in France, the land most immediately and thoroughly influenced by Las Cases's Atlas. Mapmakers are not obliged to advertise their sources and rarely do, but distinctive features make the vestiges of Las Cases's barbarian map easier to detect than most. Among these remnants we may include: the use of colored rectangular boxes to identify tribes; a distribution of tribes into European, Asiatic, and middle (mitoyens) groups (virtually unknown to historical narratives, especially in its 'middle' component); something resembling a railroad 'main line' to illustrate the invasion of the Sueves, Vandals, and Alans in 406-09; a track that has the Huns disrupt the Goths in

40. For criticism of modern historical atlases with maps combining many eras on one map (e.g., 'Europe in the Tenth and Eleventh Century'), see Armin Wolf, 'Das Bild der europaischen Geschichte in Geschichtsatlanten verschiedener Lander', Internationales Jahrbuch fur Geschichtsund Geographieunterricht 13 (1970/71), pp. 64-95, here p. 87. 41. On the acceptability ot the map, 'Preliminary Report', p. 62 n. 30. Karl Spruner von Merz, Historisch-geographischer Hand-Atlas, 3 vols., (Gotha, 1837-46); the first of several editions. Spruner's repudiation of the Le Sage Atlas-Atlas zur Geschichte von Bayern (Gotha, 1838), Vorbemerkugen, p. 2. His comment about the barbarian invasion period is quoted in 'Preliminary Report', p. 61 n. 28.

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the 370s, then withdraw into renewed Asian obscurity, and finally charge west again for the Attilan phase of their adventures (the midway retreat to Asia is not historical); and, the inclusion of the seventh-century Moslems conquering their way across Africa and into Spain (the Moslem box coming face-to-face with the Visigothic one in Spain is a salient feature).42 Since Hagelgans was unknown, the idea of a Volkerwanderung map with tracks can hardly stem from elsewhere than Las Cases's Atlas. The proliferation of such maps after 1801 and 1803-4 attests to the appeal of his idea. But the special traits just listed are optional; the presence of coloured boxes or a Hunnic withdrawal or whatever is likely to document literal copying of the Le Sage prototype. No fewer than ten historical atlases with maps of the barbarian invasions appeared in France down to Las Cases's death (1842) — many more than in any other country, but with little overlap of pictorial details. The Le Sage Atlas was continually cultivated, sold and reissued while Las Cases lived.43 Foreign counterfeits occurred as early as 1807 and 1814 (as we have seen), in more or less pirated versions of the whole Atlas. Important, original barbarian maps with tracks were published in Germany in 1820 and 1822. It was in England that Las Cases's characteristic rectangular boxes and other details were first copied, in 1825.44 French maps of the Volkerwanderung begin in the 1830s. They start with portrayals clearly different from Las Cases's and, as time passes and especially after his death, acquire closer resemblances to his. About a decade before the Revolution, C.F. Delamarche bought the stock of the noted cartographer Robert de Vaugondy, including what remained of the great Sanson map hoard, and that of the publisher Lattre as well; and he marketed them with great success. His son Felix, building on his father's few publications, produced various atlases, usually composed of present-day maps followed by a selection of 'ancient' ones. A portrayal of 'The Roman Empire at the time of the invasion of the barbarians under the reign of Honorius' appeared in his Atlas de la geographic ancienne, du moyen age, et moderns (1833-39). The edition of 1828, in which 'Middle Ages' was introduced into the title for the first time, had still been limited to an image of 'Europe before invasions. '45 42. It is common enough for barbarians to be tagged as Asiatic or whatever, but the threefold classification occurs nowhere else, in my experience, than Las Cases's map (and derivatives). The track of the Huns, very conspicuous in its broad zigzag shape, qualifies as the Las Cases howler. Moslems are normally left out because the traditional Volkerwanderung ends with the Lombard invasion of Italy (568ff). 43. Las Cases seems to have taken little interest in improving or updating his early designs. The 1835 version of his barbarian map is identical to that of 1800 except for the introduction of physical relief symbols for mountain chains here and there. Like many other Le Sage maps, geographic and other, that of the 'Transmigration' was marketed in 1835 as a single sheet: Querard, Litterature franqaise contemporaine, 4, p. 626. 44. For counterfeits, see above, nn. 25 and 26; the Weimar atlases, for which see below, nn. 66 and 68; and two English copies, below, n. 61. 45. About C.F. Delamarche, Walkenaer in Michaud, Biographic universelle, 10 (1854, repr. Graz, 1966), p. 296; Querard, France litteraire, 2, pp. 433-34. (My source for Delamarche's (continued)

The Map of the Barbarian Invasions

17

There are no tracks in Delamarche's 1830s map; instead, barbarian movements are marked by small arrows indicating the general direction of advance: Sueves and Vandals out of Silesia, then into Gaul, Saxons toward England, Ostrogoths into Transylvania, etc. The same year 1833 brought a similar map, but with coloured tracks, to the Atlas of Henri Selves, lithographer to the university of Paris. Selves's Atlas of 1821 is among the earliest (and least impressive) applications of this new technology to mapmaking.46 His effort of 1833, Atlas geographique dresse . . . pour I'usage des colleges, did not look much better, but had revised contents, including Europe a I'epoque de I'invasion barbare. Although the Selves map includes lines tracing tribal movements, signs of direct descent from Las Cases are faint; the closest resemblance is the 'main line' of the Sueves, Vandals and Alans, with dispersion in Spain; more distinctive traits, such as the Moslem invasion, are avoided.47 Considerable independence from Le Sageian details can also be observed in Maxime Auguste Denaix's Atlas . . . de I'Europe, whose unusually refined barbarian map includes features alien to the prototype, such as Goths originating from Sweden. The deplorable Hunnic track of Las Cases seems, however, to be followed. Denaix cites a sheaf of recent historians and specifies that 'M. Hase' perfected his map; this is probably Karl Benedict Hase (1780-1864), an estimable German-born Byzantinist, whom we shall meet again in the same role.48

(continued)

acquisition of the Lattre stock is Dr. Mary Pedley of Ann Arbor, Mich., whose help is gratefully acknowledged.) Felix Delamarche, Empire Romain a I'epoque de I'invasion des barbares sous le regne d'Honorius, in Atlas de la geographic ancienne, du moyen age, et moderne (Paris, 1833-39 [the operative date may be 1832]), no. 34. Delamarche's atlas of 1828 is the point of comparison. Las Cases's own medieval supplements appear in the Le Sage edition of 1835 (above, n. 37). 46. Henri Selves, Atlas ecrit en couleurs (Paris, 1819-22) [BN: Ge.DD.5239]; most maps concerning the middle ages are dated 1821 (Selves also produced a small size version, Atlas geographique . . . pour I'usage des colleges, 1822-24 [UMich]). David Woodward, in Map Collector 18 (1982), pp. 2-11, identifies 'the earliest lithographed atlas' with a Paris collection of 1823. Selves antedates this, and is himself anticipated by a German historical atlas of 1820 (below, n. 66). Walter W. Ristow, 'Lithography and Maps, 1796-1850', in Woodward, Five Centuries of Map Printing, pp. 77-112, here p. 96, acknowledges a (poor) school map by Selves in 1821, but not the atlases. 47. Henri Selves, Europe a I'epoque de I'invasion barbare, in Atlas geographique dresse . . . pour I'usage des colleges: geographic ancienne, geographic du moyen age, geographic moderne actuelle (Paris, 1833), part 2, no. 1 [BN: Ge.DD.1030-1033]. Selves's basic source was the Atlas of Kruse; but from 1833 edition on, he added to each of his maps an inset concerning Asia taken (with acknowledgement) from H.J. Klaproth, Tableaux histonques de I'Asie (Paris, 1826). Selves's Atlas geographique (Paris, 1835) [BN], is a small scale reproduction of the 1833 atlas. 48. Maxime Auguste Denaix, Atlas physique, politique et historique de I'Europe (Paris, 1829) [BL Maps 144.c.l; LC: new ed., 1855]. Treating his barbarian map as an authoritative document, Denaix lists modern experts and comments,'Aussi, sur cette matiere si compliquee, nous croyons que notre carte peut lutter serieusement avec les cartes franchises et allemandes les plus exactes et les plus lucides.' Comparable remarks are rare. The map also appears in Denaix's Atlas physique, politique et historique de la France (Paris, 1836-37), No. 13 [an earlier ed. BL: Maps 150.e.14.; 1836-42, Maps 16.C.19.]. On Hase, see Allgememe deutsche Biographic, 10(1879), pp. 725-27; known as one of the most erudite men in Paris, Hase was much consulted especially when employed at the Bibliotheque royale.

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The Culture of Christendom

The translation of Kruse's German 'Historical Atlas of the European States' by Philippe Lebas and Felix Ansart appeared in 1836, with maps dated a year or two earlier. Ansart, in charge of geography, had great freedom to modify Kruse. In order to create a comprehensive school atlas, he added maps of ancient history and of the other continents. His goal was to contest the market with Las Cases, whose 'beau travail', he said, 'had underscored the need for an adequate historical atlas rather than filled it'. Kruse provided austere maps with boundaries century-by-century. Ansart thought his rendering of Europe at the End of the Fifth Century would be improved by including 'the track of the itineraries followed by the barbarians'. Thin coloured lines, not always clear, are the essentials of Ansart's version, but one borrowing from Las Cases is unmistakable: massive rectangular boxes fill large tracts of eastern Europe, while smaller ones are scattered in the Balkans and elsewhere.49 Conrad Malte-Brun, an exiled Dane, ranked high among geographers in early nineteenth-century France. Not himself a mapmaker, he had others draw maps for his remarkable multi-volume Precis de la geographic universelle (1810-25); Pierre Lapie had done so in 1812. Malte-Brun died in 1826 at fifty-one, and from 1831 Nicolas Huot, who completed what Malte-Brun had left unfinished, published a new and revised edition of the Precis. The new atlas for this edition appeared in 1837. Unlike Lapie's companion atlas, Huot's contains a map of the invasions, with the unwieldy title Europe apres I'invasions des barb ares au I He siecle, a la fin du Ve et pendant une partie du Vie; perhaps it was hoped that the mixing of incidents from four centuries would not prove confusing provided the title announced it.50 Huot explained that, because he showed the origins of the European countries, he had to offer a map of the barbarians who invaded the Roman Empire; his one acknowledged source is Denaix.51 Like the latter's map, Huot's contains refinements; he distinguishes 'invasions' (e.g., Burgundians, Ostrogoths, Avars) from 'marches' (e.g., Herules, Alans, Vandals) without adequate justification, and subdivides coloured tracks in such 49. Chr. and Fr. Kruse, Atlas historique des etats europeens, trans. P. Lebas and F. Ansart, 2nd ed. (Paris, 1836); maps dated 1834, 1835; based on the 5th German ed. (1834); the eighteen maps noted by bibliographies do not include Ansart's addition. The avertissement states that Las Cases 'avait . . . plutot signale que rempli cette lacune' [i.e., the lack of a real historical atlas to complement the burgeoning interest in history]. For the original Kruse atlas, see above, n. 34. Parisot, in Michaud, Biographic universelle, 22 (repr. Graz, 1968), p. 221, records a first edition of Ansart's translation, Paris, 1832 'et suivantes'. Because the 1836 edition is the second, an earlier one is implied. BL, BN Impr, UIll, and UMich (NUC) admit only to 1836, but with slightly different titles; only one copy is marked second edition [UMich]. Ansart produced a third edition, called Atlas historique universel (Paris, 1841). 50. For Lapie's companion Atlas, see above, n. 35. Jean Jacques Nicolas Huot, Europe apres ^invasions [sic], in Atlas complete du precis de la geographic universelle de Malte-Brun (Pans, 1837), no. 19 [RGS, Oxford]; the numbering is uncertain: 20 in one copy consulted, 19 in the table of contents of the other but 17 on the map. About Malte-Brun, properly Make Conrad Bruun (1775-1826), La Renaudiere in Michaud, Biographic universelle, 6 (repr. Graz, 1966), pp. 6-10; Querard, France litteraire, 5, pp. 479-80; the Precis runs to 8 vols., but Malte-Brun's contribution ends early in volume 7. His design may be responsible for the absence in Huot's Atlas of any map of modern history (but Huot's new edition was much changed). 51. Ibid., p. 11. For Denaix, see above, n. 48.

The Map of the Barbarian Invasions

19

a way that the Goths are drawn out of Scandinavia to the Crimea in green and sent onward in yellow on the long trek from Crimea to Spain. Denaix is probably the intermediary between Huot and two conspicuous Le Sageian features: the 'main line' plan and fanciful Hunnic withdrawal to the east. Las Cases's imitators extended the barbarian tracks backward to Sweden and forward across the Mediterranean. The display of Sweden as starting point for the migration of Goths and sometimes of other peoples is widely endorsed in histories, but lacks an ascertainable date and hangs on shaky evidence. Las Cases, for whatever reason, gave his Goths a fourth-century (south Russian) starting point, leaving out their distant past, which he briefly mentions in letterpress. Later mapmakers reached imprudently into the wastes he shunned. The filling out of the past was complemented by forward extensions showing the Vandals in the fifth century crossing from Carthage to Rome and other Mediterranean points in a design requiring that two very different kinds of lines be welded together. These Vandal maritime raids, notably the descent on Rome in 455, are well attested, but whereas the original track taking the Vandals across Europe and to Carthage presumably involves the movement of a people (or significant part thereof) with a view to permanent settlement, the prolongations to Rome and accessible islands — very conspicuous on maps — involve only transitory forays. Yet the line representing the Vandal people looks just the same when it changes to meaning only a raiding party. The backward and forward extensions have the visual effect of integrating the Baltic and Mediterranean into the panorama of barbarian movement.52 One of the fullest historical atlases of the century began to appear in the same year as Huot's — and Spruner's — and completed publication in 1838; the author was Antoine Houze. Its 101 rather small maps were republished many times under a variety of titles; customers not needing the full collection could have partial atlases for particular countries. Houze's organization, unfolding maps country by country and continent by continent (some of both are combined), either derived from that of the Le Sage Atlas or shared the same model; but whereas Las Cases generally gave each country no more than one or two maps, Houze allocates to Greece and Italy a chronologically ordered set of sixteen, to England ten, to Asia and Africa three (!), and so forth.53 52. The Swedish prolongation in Denaix is noted above. The Vandal prolongation has become standard (though not universal) in twentieth-century atlases. It was foreshadowed in Lavoisne-Gros (1814), above, n. 26, only a decade after Las Cases. 53. Antoine-Philippe Houze, Atlas universel historique et geographique (Paris, 1837-38); the original subtitle is given by Querard, Litterature franqaise contemporaine, 4, p. 325: 'donnant les differentes divisions et modifications territoriales des diverses nations aux principales epoques de leur histoire, avec une notice sur tous les faits importants et 1'indication des lieux ou ils se sont passes; destine a faciliter la lecture et 1'intelligence de tous les ouvrages historiques.' Querard attests to the early date of publication; the first edition I have seen is of 1841 [BL]. Copies of the Atlas are not rare, but the BN has little of his: three copies, of which two are of an 1850 edition, plus two partial atlases; all but one among the Impr. Societe de Geographic, Bulletin, 2nd ser., 11 (1839), p. 52: records Houze's presentation to the societe of his Geographic universelle as well as the first instalments of his Atlas historique et geographique; he is listed as a new member (continued)

20

The Culture of Christendom

Since Houze's Atlas omits maps of Europe as a whole, it has no obvious slot for a collective, synchronic image of the invasions. Instead, the main barbarian map appears in the Scandinavo-Russo-Polish section, daringly labelled La Russie, la Suede, la Norvege et le Danemark a la fin du Ve siecle. Once the surprise of this grouping is overcome, one notes that the contents have much in common with at least a part of customary versions and that Houze has not been able to resist coloured boxes of the Le Sageian type. He explains, in a letterpress comment, that European Russia was full of Goths when the Huns arrived in countless numbers and pushed them on, causing the Goths to attack the Roman Empire with the results we know. More barbarians occur (without boxes) in other sections. The additional tracks are concentrated in Houze's sections on Greece and Italy and on Spain. La Grece et I'ltalie depuis Constantin le Grand jusqu'a I'invasion des barbares et la prise de Rome par Alaric traces the Visigoths under Alaric and after, as far as their entrance into Gaul; its sequel focuses on the Vandals and Ostrogoths. L'Espagne apres I'invasion des barbares, 409-585 has the most profuse collection of criss-crossing tracks after Russia; since they are thin gray lines and sketchily labelled, deciphering them is no easy task. Spain too has a sequel, L'Espagne wisigothique, 585-756, recording the Moslem invasions.54 Meanwhile, the many maps of early France, Germany, and England are spared defacement by barbarian tracks. At the cost of restricting barbarians to eastern and southern Europe, Houze's treatment has originality. Though the layout adopted for the Atlas may have forced his hand, the division of a single map into five has the advantage of helping readers to grasp the invasions as a process extending over time. Houze is nevertheless a lacklustre historian, given to touches of incompetence in the accompanying letterpress. He informs us, for example, of a period in which the Byzantine Empire experienced Toccupation des Bulgares'. The commercial success of Las Cases's atlas may not have encouraged professionalism in historical cartography. An Atlas elementaire abrege de geographic et d'histoire ancienne et moderne was published in 1840 by E. Soulier and E. Andriveau-Goujon. Their map called Invasion des barbares, for which K.B. Hase again served as consultant, is the most visually remarkable in the chain of descent since Las Cases: excellent geographical outlines (with reservations about the caterpillar mountains); wellproportioned coloured ribbon-tracks laid out in too emphatically serpentine contours (reservations, too, about the illegible writing on the ribbons); well-balanced chronological limits. Contrary to Houze's treatment, this one (continued)

(p. 54). I have not found biographical details about him. Partial atlases drawn from the full one, e.g. Atlas historico de Espana (France and the Holy Land bound in) (Barcelona, 1840) (only the Holy Land has all fourteen maps of the original) [LC]; Atlas historique et universel de la France (Paris, ? 1850s) [Harvard]. 54. Houze, Atlas universel historique, G 1 (Russia), D 5, 6 (Greece and Italy), E 2, (3 Spain). Houze's first barbarian map may have been inspired by Ansart's (above, n. 49); his Le Sageian boxes cover large expanses of eastern Europe (mainly Russia).

The Map of the Barbarian Invasions

21

shows northern Gaul richly interlaced with barbarian commotion. An ample 'main line' from the Rhine to Spain is the one close likeness to Las Cases. Andriveau-Goujon belonged to a map publishing dynasty; maps from the Atlas elementaire appeared for years afterward in collections bearing several names.55 Auguste-Henri Dufour was a well-respected mapmaker; generally avoiding barbarian tracks, he preferred to display conditions 'before' and 'after' in the German manner. He once relented, in a collection of 1840, called La terre, co-produced with Th. Duvotenay. On the dust jacket, the publisher expressed pride at being able to deploy a technology allowing atlas maps to be printed with lines and script in red as well as black; no longer would, for example, rivers be confused with meridians. All the maps of La terre took advantage of this refinement. Dufour's map of the invasion period has one red line tracing the 'expedition' of the Vandals and Alans (in 406-11) and another tracing that of the Huns (under Attila). Colour notwithstanding, the lines tend to recede into the map. Dufour's Hunnic track includes an unhistorical advance on Rome and other signs of Le Sageian influence.56 Louis Dussieux's Geographic historique de la France appeared on the morrow of Las Cases's death, presumably designed and drawn before that event. French history was generally thought not to call for a map of the invasions; Dussieux even realised that the tracing of movements was a matter of some uncertainty. But for the sake of making his atlas as useful as possible, he 'added to the maps the (theoretical) track of Caesar's marches, [and] of the invasions of all the barbarians of the fifth to the tenth centuries'.57 His version brings to an end the offshoots of Las Cases's barbarian map produced in his lifetime; they are much farther from plagiarism than the foreign ones. In the next thirty years — the limit of my research — maps we have seen, by Ansart, Andriveau-Goujon and others, were reused, and five more impressions of barbarian tracks were drawn in France independently, for all practical purposes, of the Le Sage model.58 But Las Cases had only to pass 55. E. Soulier and E. Andriveau-Goujon, Atlas elementaire abrege de geographic et d'histoire ancienne et moderne (Paris, 1840), no. 17 [BL;BN records the date 1838]; ribbon-shaped tracks, very noticeable here, are also a Le Sageian feature. J. Andriveau-Goujon, publ., Atlas classique et universel (Paris, 1837) [UIll, incomplete], contains no barbarian map. Reprinting of the 1840 map, E. Andriveau-Goujon, Atlas de choix, on recueil des meilleures cartes de geographic ancienne et moderne (Paris, 1841-62), [LC, BN, UMich]. 56. Europe de 400 a 500, a I'epoque de 1'invasion des Barbares (with 'Expedition des Huns sous la conduite d'Attila' and 'Expedition des Vandales et des Alains'), in A.H. Dufour and T. Duvotenay, La Terre: Atlas historique et universel de geographic ancienne, du moyen age et moderne (Paris, 1840), no. 14. On Dufour (1798-1865), see F. Maouis in Dictionnaire de biographic franqaise, 11 (Paris, 1967), cols. 1423-24; he worked at the Depot de la Marine and associated with Lapie early in his career. 57. L. Dussieux, Conquete barbare, in Geographic historique de la France, ou Histoire de la formation du territcire franqais (Paris, 1843), no. 4 [NYPL]. 58. P. Clausolles, and Philibert Abadie, Invasion des barbares, in Atlas historique et geographique du moyen age (Paris, 1845), no. 1 [BN: G.5656]. Emile de Bonnechose, Carte de la Gaule en 481 indiquant I'etendue de I'empire Frank a la mart de Clovis (511) et les (continued)

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The Culture of Christendom

from the scene for his map to be more precisely copied. Delamarche, whose first invasion map deployed only little arrows, produced a new version in 1843, only an inset, bearing a conspicuous resemblance to the prototype. Victor Levasseur combined features of the 1801 barbarian map with a detail from Las Cases's 'Middle Ages' supplement of 1835. Ovals replace the rectangular boxes, and the three types of barbarians are appropriated together with the weird Hunnic track. These and other traits raise Levasseur's version to a level of imitation hitherto seen only abroad.59 The final step was taken when two compilers, J.N. Sanis (1859?) and L. Vat (1863), proudly presented the original barbarian map as though it were a classic to be piously reproduced in its primitive form: Trace de I'invasion [Transmigrations] des barbares d'apres le tableau du comte de Las Cases.60 The copyright had presumably run out and French atlases could at last help themselves as freely as foreigners long had. From an early date the Le Sage barbarian map was unashamedly copied abroad. There were two offspring in London in 1825 and, via Lavoisne, one in New York in 1826.61 The Netherlands were penetrated in 1827 but (continued)

marches des barbares dans la Gaule, in Geographic physique, historique et politique de la France (Paris, 1847), no. 4 [BN]; black-and-white tracks. Claude Joseph Drioux and Charles Leroy, Europe pour I'invasions des barbares avec Vindication de la marche des peuples, in Atlas universe! et classique de geographic ancienne, romaine, du moyen age, moderne et contemporaine (Paris, 1851), no. 17 [BN; LC, Yale, 1860s]; unusual clarity, owing to a limited number of tribes. Jacques Babinet, Europe, invasion des barbares (506), in Atlas universel de geographic physique, politique et historique (Paris, 1862), no. 15 [LC G1019.B125 1861; BN]; a limited selection of discrete, mainly black-and-white lines, a foretaste of the 'scientific' design for tracks. Eugene Cortambert, Europe a I'epoque de I'invasion des barbares, in Nouvel atlas de geographic contentant en 80 cartes la geographic ancienne, la geographic du moyen age, la cosmographie (Paris, 1865, 1867, 1878), no. 181 [LC, BL, BPL, Yale]; only Herules proceed from Sweden; no Gepids or Franks; Lombards hard to detect. 59. C.F. Delamarche, L'Europe au commencement du Vie siecle, inset: Depart, itineraires et etablissement des peuples barbares dans la grande invasion (1843), in Atlas de geographic historique du moyen age (Paris, 1844) [BN]. Victor Levasseur, Tableau des routes suivies par les barbares qui ont envahi I'empire romain, in Atlas de cartes historiques pour servir de complement au Dictionnaire de Dates (Paris, 1844) [CambridgeUL]. Levasseur's Tableau is the probable source of F.W. Hunt, 'Chart showing the General Direction of the Invasions of the Barbarians on the Fall of the Roman Empire', in/.//. Colton's Historical Atlas: A Practical Class-Book of the History of the World (New York, 1860), pi. 7 [BL]. 60. J.L. Sanis and Delaleau de Bailliencourt, Geographic historique de la France: atlas special (Paris, n.d. [1859?]), no. 3 [BL: Maps 198.f.l5]; L. Vat, Nouvel atlas classique, politique, historique et commmercial, 3e partie (Paris, 1863), pp. 43-44 [BN], with an outline map of the same subject. 61. Charles Abraham Elton, History of the Roman Emperors from the Accession of Augustus to the Fall of the Last Constantine (London, 1825); one of two maps at the head of the volume; the design is almost pure Las Cases (e.g., the three types of tribes). G.B.W. Whittaker, publ., 'Historical Map of Europe showing Routes of the Ancient Invaders' (London, 1825), single sheet [BL 1035. (161.)]. I have not been able to set Elton alongside Whittaker, but believe they are different. Henry Bostwick, 'A Map representing the Origin, Movements, and Incursions of Barbarous Nations' in [Atlas of Historical Maps and Charts] (New York, 1826, 1827); [none of the three copies at NYPL retains a title page]. Bostwick plagiarises Lavoisne; the collection has only two historical maps: this one and the historical map of England descended from Speed, via Las Cases to Lavoisne. The barbarian map is in Henry Bostwick, A Historical and Classical Atlas Illustrating, by a Series of Maps and Charts, Ancient History and Geography (New York, 1826-30 and later) [Princeton UL].

The Map of the Barbarian Invasions

23

only by the full Atlas in Marchal's improved edition. More indicative of the strong appeal of Las Cases's barbarian tracks was the careful Dutch adaptation of 1833, specifically acknowledging Le Sage's paternity; it was chosen to inaugurate an ambitious but short-lived Encyklopedische Atlas. Later Dutch versions confirm the force of Las Cases's influence.62 Germany, prepared by the Dusch translation of the full Le Sage Atlas, obtained a modified offshoot of the 'Transmigrations' in a general atlas by Julius Lowenberg (1839) and another in that of F.R. Schaarschmidt (1846).63 There had been maps with barbarian tracks detached from Las Cases's in Germany as early as 1820, as we shall see; the skilful atlas of Wedell, which manifests a non-Sprunian fondness for tracks, seems also to have drawn its lines without reference to the French prototype. Once more in England, the eminent firm of A.K. Johnston issued a School Atlas of Classical History (1853) that closes with the barbarian invasions and may have set a fashion still followed for the final map of classical atlases to strike this note. The track-rich Johnston map, handsomely redrawn, is deeply indebted to Las Cases in its peculiar track of the Huns and other distinctive traits.64 Las Cases's hand mediated by Levasseur surfaces in an American map of 1860. Italy, comparatively poor in historical atlases, joined the chorus of Le

62. On the Marchal edition, see above n. 25. J.P. Brand Eschauzier, ed., Geschiedkundige kaart der groote volksverhuizing overgenomen uit den atlas van Lesage (Amsterdam, 1833-39), in the editor's Ency elope dische atlas (Amsterdam, 1838-41). Separately at AmsterdamUL Map Coll.: 28-34-40. The unbound Atlas is in the main collection and, bound, at BL Maps 49.f.l6. Both sets run out at the 15th instalment of a programme so open-ended that it could theoretically have gone on for ever; maps are rare. Later Dutch versions of the invasion map: W.E.J. Huberts, Historisch-geographische atlas der algemeen en vaderlandsche geschiedenis (The Hague, 1855), no. 13 (I have seen only the 4th printing: Zwolle, 1870; cf. Cornelius I. Koeman, Atlantes neederlandici: Bibliography of Atlases Published in the Netherlands to 1880, 6, Supplement [Alphen aan den Rijn, 1985], p. 182); for the anonymous but probably identical work of the same name published by Thierry and Mensing in 1858, see ibid., p. 28. 63. Julius Lowenberg, Die Volkerwanderungen nach ihrem Ausgangspunkten, Ziigen und Niederlassungen, in Historisck-geographischer Atlas zu den allgemeinen Geschichtswerken von C. v. Rotteck, Politz und Becker (Freiburg/Breisgau, 1839-42), no. 8 [LC: G1030.L7 1839]. This is a posthumous work, seen through the press by V. Kutscheit, a compiler of historical atlases in his own right. Friedrich Reinhold Schaarschmidt, Die Hauptziige der in der Geschichte der Volkerwanderung besonders hervortretenden Volker, in Kleiner historisch-geographischer Atlas (Meissen, 1846), no. 9 [NYPL]; boxes are the Le Sageian trait in a carefully redrawn version. 64. Rudolph von Wedell, LJbersichtblatt zur Volkerwanderung: Griindung neuere Reiche bis gegen das VII Jahrh., in Historisch-geographischer Hand-Atlas (Berlin, 1845-53), no. iii [BL; accompanying text, BL Maps 2.C.49.; Cincinnati Public Library claims to have an edition of 1843; 1856 at LC, Harvard, Yale]; there is a possible Le Sageian echo in the comment (p. 17): 'Die Ziige der Araber sind hier unberiicksicht gelassen, weil sie auf den achten Karte vorkommen.' A. Keith Johnston, Europe Showing the General Direction of the Barbarian Inroads on the Fall of the Roman Empire, in School Atlas of Classical Geography (Edinburgh and London, 1853), pi. 20, very plainly marked 'Return of the Huns to Asia'; the Ostrogoths and Lombards are kept out of Italy in the Le Sage manner, with the appropriate legend; Las Cases's influence is remarkably pure even at this late date. Little can be said about F. Wesenfeld, Historisch-geographischer Charte der Volkerwanderung (Magdeburg, c. 1840), known only from a catalogue entry at DSB and needing to be rediscovered; and Ferdinand Gatti, 'Der Hauptziige der in der Volkerwanderung erscheinenden Volker' (Graz, 1851), single sheet lacking a context [BN: Ge.C.8358]; Gatti's unusual design features remarkably angular march-routes.

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Sage imitators in 1867. The neat, well-drawn map of the Milan atlas is a graphic success. Though its tracks correct and revise Las Cases's historical data, its profusion of coloured boxes and lists of European and Asiatic invaders leave little doubt about its ancestry.65 Foreign versions were not always copies. The earliest map with barbarian tracks after Las Cases was a thoroughly original version by F.W. Benicken, an ex-captain of the Prussian army; it appears in a 'historical school atlas' published in 1820 by the Weimar Geographical Institute.66 This institute, which endured to the 1870s, was the foremost map publisher of early nineteenthcentury Germany. Its highly respected journal, the Allgemeine geographische Ephemeriden, had reviewed Las Cases's atlas and savaged it; the Marschrouten of the barbarian map and its defective historical content prompted the reviewer's special scorn.67 It is surprising, under the circumstances, to find Benicken far surpassing Las Cases in the use of tracks; many years would pass before anyone outdid the first of Benicken's productions in this respect. The Weimar atlases, both of which are very wide and unwieldy, were meant for different audiences. The 'school' atlas has mute outline maps, in which single letters coordinated with legends substitute for written place names; the 'library' or 'reference' atlas benefited in design from the experience of the school version.68 Emphatic divergences separate them from Las Cases's: 65. Hunt, in Colton's Historical Atlas, as above, n. 59, and Filippo Naymiller, Pietro Allodi, and Vincenzo de Castro, Carlo, dett'mvasione del barbari in Europa, indicando il loro punto di partanza, etc., in Grande atlante di geografia universale cronologico, storico, statistico e letterario (Milan, n.d. [1867]) [LC: G1019.C27 1867]. The designers could not resist including the Normans (ninth through eleventh centuries), another instance of inability to set firm limits around invaders. 66. Historischer Schulatlas oder Uebersicht der allgemeinen Weltgeschichte (Weimar, 1820) [ViennaUL; DSB]; maps by C.C. Wendel Jr. (The Lavoisne-Gros atlas of 1814, for which see above, n. 26, might claim priority, but was a revision or correction of Las Cases rather than an original design.) Benicken's fourteen map titles, in both atlases, coincide with the chapter titles of Georg Leonhard von Dresch, Obersicht der allgemeinen politischen Geschichte insbesondere Europens, 3 vols. (Weimar, 1814-16, 2nd ed., 1822-23), to which the atlases were intended to be companions. All Benicken's maps are marked 'auf Stein gravirt [i.e., lithographed] von A[nton] Falger', a Tyrolian engraver (cf., above, n. 46). On Falger, see Liutpold Dussler, Die Incunabeln der deutschen Lithographic, 1796-1821 (Berlin, 1925, repr. Heidelberg, 1955), pp.42-43; R. Armin Winkler, Die Friihzeit der deutschen Lithographic: Katalog der Bilddrucke von 1796-1821 (Munich, 1975), pp. 13-14, 73-76; he was in the mapmaking team of the Bavarian Steuer-Kataster Kommission. On lithographic engraving see Ristow, 'Lithography and Maps', p. 80; more broadly, see Bayerische Staatsbibliothek, Cartographia Bavariae: Bayern im Bild der Karte, ed. Hans Woff (Weissenhor/Bayern, 1988), pp. 217, 223-31. 67. On the institute, H. Arnhold, 'Geographisches Institut Weimar', in Lexicon zur Geschichte der Kartographie (Kartographie C/l), 1 (Vienna, 1986), pp. 259-60: the parent body (Landes-Industrie Comptoir) was established in 1791; the institute proper in 1804. There were 560 titles on its stock list in 1820, and it retained importance to the 1860s as a producer of globes. The Allg. geog. Ephem. began in 1798, with the collaboration of an astronomer, F.X. von Zach (1754-1832). For its (anonymous) critique of the Le Sage atlas, Allg. geog. Ephem., 16 (1805), pp. 80-93; 27 (1808), 102-8; cf. 'Preliminary Report', pp. 57 n. 19, 61 n. 27. 68. The pattern for 'mute' teaching maps, called 'methodical' in German, was set by J.B. Homann, Atlas methodicus explorandis iuvenum profectibus in studio geographico (Nuremberg, 1719) [UIll]; the name of J.Hiibner is attached to the method in question. See F.W. Benicken, (continued)

The Map of the Barbarian Invasions

25

the fourteen Weimar maps are in chronological order and embrace the whole world; they chart historical events against the backdrop of the gradual (European) discovery of the world. But the example of Paris had effects. No less than three general maps of Benicken's 'school atlas' — from the days of Augustus to A.D. 1073 — have tracks of invaders, tracks so designed that the line marking the course of migration finishes in a circuit of the borders of the territory ultimately acquired; for example, the Moslem freebooters who seized Crete from Byzantium in 826 are indicated by a line from Spain across the Mediterranean that ends in a lasso around the island. This new type of graphic track is joined by an equally unique type of legend, in which the symbol opposite the identification of each migrating people is a miniature drawing of its track on the map. Benicken left these inventions behind when designing the Hand-Atlas. Here, the fourteen main maps — initially of Eurasia, ultimately of the whole world — elaborate the theme of the discovery of the world; the tracks that appear on them are exclusively of explorers, merchants and navigators. Incidents of conventional history are assigned to insets, four or more for every main map. By comparison with the Schul-Atlas, tracks have almost vanished; barbarians are confined to two insets: Germanen-, Gothen- und Alanen-Ziige and Hunnen-Zuge. Whereas Benicken's Schul-Atlas has a special legend labelled 'Volkerwanderung', that phenomenon is virtually alien to his Hand-Atlas, which separately illustrates two important episodes of fourth- and fifth-century invasion and disregards all the others.69 Benicken certainly did not copy Las Cases, but as he set about designing his own collections he could hardly have ignored the best selling historical atlas of the age. Just how his track-rich maps are related to the Le Sage atlas, against the grain or with it, is hard to tell; he may well have thought that in the Schul-Atlas he had achieved a much more dynamic, eloquent and sustained use of tracks than the famous Frenchman. The Weimar collections, with their concern for visually unfolding the discovery of the world, are interesting for more than their handling of barbarians. Together with Las Cases and Kruse, Benicken is a pioneer in the mapping of modern history. His atlases are rare

(continued)

Historischer Hand-Atlas zur Versinnlichung der allgemeinen Geschichte alter Voelker und Staaten nebst Zeitrechnungstafeln iiber alte, mittlere, neuere, und neueste Geschichte (Weimar, 1820-24) [BL; NYPL]; fasc. 1 and 2, ancient and medieval history, appeared in 1820 and 1821 respectively: Gesamtverzeichnis des deutschsprachigen Schriftums, ed. H. Schenck and W. Gorzny, 12 (Munich, 1880), p. 68. The maps were drawn by Karl Ferdinand Weiland, a very productive member of the Weimar Institute; for the lithographer, see above, n. 66. Benicken, Zeitrechnungs-Tafeln fur den historischen Handatlas (Weimar, n.d. [1825]) [NYPL]: twelve date tables coordinated with the plates of the Hand-Atlas. G.Hfassel], in Allg. geog. Ephem., n.s. 15, fasc. 5 (1825), pp. 143-48, presents the completed Hand-Atlas on behalf of the Weimar Institute and gives a precise idea of Benicken's design; the fifteen-map collection he describes has one more plate than in either copy I have consulted. An early review: Allg. Liter.-Zeitung, Halle (April 1822), pp. 729-32. 69. This roughly anticipates the version of Dufour, for which see above, n. 56.

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books that cannot have done well in the marketplace;70 they are thematically and graphically creative, rich in inventions that bore no apparent fruit. He was unmatched among the mapmakers whom Las Cases's image of the invasions incited to creativity. The barbarian invasions have long been perceived as a pivotal event, the phenomenon that shattered the unity of the Roman Empire and inaugurated the linguistic and political fragmentation that has since characterised European history.71 Las Cases's map with tracks succeeded in giving the invasions graphic form. Many followed him in picturing this epoch, partly because there was an explosion of historical atlases in the nineteenth century and partly because the invasions, long interpreted as crucial, had a compelling appeal for atlas makers once a pattern for illustrating them was devised. Las Cases's invasions, displaying a pivotal event involving tracks, at once took a place alongside three other prominent maps in our historical tradition: the dispersion of peoples after Noah, the Exodus, and the Great Discoveries. The Dispersion of the Sons of Noah tends to have the least use for lines tracing movement; it is a chronologically remote and in Europe unemotional subject, drawn repeatedly since the seventeenth century and deriving its wide currency from often serving as the beginning of history itself.72 In a completely 70. I have encountered only two copies of each. Wedell (above, n. 64) comes closest to having been influenced by Benicken. 71. As tokens of the antiquity of this idea, Nicolo Zeno, Del'origine de' barbari, che distrussero per tutto'l mondo I'imperio di Roma (Venice, 1557); Jerome Turler, De migrationibus populorum septentrionalium post devictos a Mario Cimbros et de ruina imperil Romani liber (n.p. [France?], 1564). For a sharply formulated statement, see Journal des sqavans (January, 1772), pp. 32-33 (review of Christoph Gullaume Koch, Tableau des revolutions de VEurope depuis le bouleversement de I'empire d'Occident jusqu'a nos jours [Lausanne and Strasbourg, 1771), 'Une foule innombrable de Barbares se repand dans 1'Empire Romain, le ruine de fond en comble & etablit sur ses ruines les principaux Etats qui partagent aujourd'hui 1'Europe. Les moeurs feroces et les coutumes des Allemands s'introduisirent partout & laisserent [sic] apres elles ces impression & ces traces de barbaric que nous remarquons encore dans une posterite tres reculee.' 72. The subject occurs in medieval mappae mundi: J.B. Harley and David Woodward, History of Cartography, \ (Chicago, 1987), pp. 328, 330-31. In the modern period (an unsystematic selection): Caspar Danckwerth and Johann Mejer, Orbis vetus cum origine in eo gentium a filiis et nepotibus Noe, in their Nieuwe Landesbeschreibung der zwei Hertzogthiimer Schleswik und Holstein (Husum, 1652), p. 28 [BL Maps C.24.g.20]; Athanasius Kircher, Tabula geographica divisionis gentium et populorum per tres filios Noe, in his Area Noe magna rerum varietate explicata (Amsterdam, 1675) [BL: 460.c.9]; Augustin Calmet, Monde ancien suivant le partage aux enfants de Noe (1721) [Arch. Nat., Marine, Service hydrographique 6JJ/59bis no. 67]; William Stukely, Most Ancient Asia ('Dispersion of the Sons of Noah'), in Hermann Moll, Geographia antiqua: Thirty-Two Maps of the Geography of the Ancients (London, 1739), no. 30 [LC]; Nicolas Lenglet Dufresnoy, Catalogue des meilleures cartes geographiques generales et particulieres (Paris, 1742; repr. Amsterdam, 1965) p. 84, recommends a version by Pierre Moulart Sanson not seen by me; the two chronicle-atlases cited at above, n. 33, start with this event; Claude Buy de Mornas, Atlas historique et geographic, 4 vols. (Paris, 1762), 1, nos. 17-18; A Synopsis of the Repeopling of the World by the Descendants of Noah, in Stackhouse, Universal Atlas (above, n. 35), no. 12; Delamarche, Atlas de la geographic ancienne, du moyen age, et moderne (Paris, 1833-39), no. 21; Houze, Atlas universel, no. A2. The subject involves movements of peoples, but no tracks.

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different vein, the Exodus was probably the favourite historical scene in early cartography, rich in symbolism developed for centuries by theologians and drawn innumerable times, recently as well as long ago; the Israelites sometimes journey to the Promised Land over a road marked in the form our maps assign to multi-lane motorways.73 As for the barbarian invasions and the Great Discoveries, they owe their celebrity to being major historical turning points. Just as the invasions stand between antiquity and middle ages, so the map of the discoveries, replete with tracks of navigators, signifies the passage to modern times. By comparison with these four maps of momentous peopleon-the-move, charts of the routes followed by Hannibal, Caesar, Gustavus Adolphus and their likes subside to insignificance. Tracks in historical maps are a problem to cartographers. They are used lavishly and without restraint or inhibition in many of today's historical atlases; yet profound misgivings about them have been expressed as well, and they have been deliberately avoided in certain very serious collections.74 Neither Hagelgans nor Las Cases can have pondered the legitimacy and appropriateness of the tracks he assigned to Goths, Huns and Franks. But our own musings about these graphic devices may profit from knowing where some of the most prominent ones in our atlases come from and what company they have kept.

73. The fourteenth-century Hereford mappa mundi already contains an elaborate Exodus track: G.R. Crone, The World Map by Richard Haldingham in Hereford Cathedral, Reproductions of Early Manuscript Maps, 3 (London, 1954), pis. 5-6; I have not been able to establish whether there is additional medieval attestation. Catherine Delano Smith, 'Maps in Bibles in the Sixteenth Century', Map Collector 39 (1987), pp. 3-5, 12, documents early modern instances, the characteristic thruway, and an unequalled popularity among Bible maps; there should be fuller documentation in C.D. Smith and P.M. Ingram's forthcoming Maps in Bibles (Droz). A rich selection of Exodus maps from 1537 (Mercator) to 1641 (Briet) is given by Kenneth Nebenzahl, Maps of the Holy Land: Images of 'Terra Sancta' through Two Millennia (New York, 1986), nos. 24*, 25*, 26*, 30*, 35*, 37*, 38, 39, 40*, 41, 42*, 43, 44*, 45 (maps with tracks resembling motorways are marked by an asterisk). As though to say that new migration overshadows old, Exodus maps are noted only very incidentally noted by Nachmann Rau, Tracks to the Promised Land (Tel Aviv, c. 1987), pp. 93, 101, 129. 74. Tracks and bold arrows appear exuberantly in G. Barraclough, ed., Times Atlas of World History (London, 1978, rev. ed. 1984) and often elsewhere. Disparagement of tracks is known to me rather from conversations than from published discussions; but see H. Jedin, K.S. Latourette, and J. Martin, Atlas zur Kirchengeschichte: Die christliche Kirche in Geschichte und Gegenwart (Freiburg, 1970), p. 9*, 'Ferner haben wir fast ganz auf Pfeile und Ahnliches zur Darstellung von Vorgangen verzichted, weil damit meistens nur unklare und globale Vorstellungen vermittelt werden' (the same in the 2nd ed., 1987). Another noteworthy work avoiding tracks is the Atlas of Early American History: The Revolutionary Era, 1760-1790, ed. L.J. Cappon, B.B. Petchenik, J.H. Long, et al. (Princeton, 1976).

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2

Letters and Letter-Collections from Antiquity to the Early Middle Ages: The Prose Works of Avitus of Vienne Ian Wood

Between the late fourth and the late seventh centuries one of the major forms of literature was the letter-collection.1 The period is obviously that of the letters of Augustine, of various papal collections, of which the most important is the Register of Gregory the Great, and of the great administrative handbook of Cassiodorus, the Variae. But in certain respects more typical of the age are those letter-collections whose contents are as much concerned with friendship — amicitia, caritas or dulcedo — as with doctrine or administration. This late antique tradition of letters had its origins in the writings of Pliny the Younger, but properly begins with those of the Roman senator, Symmachus;2 the genre was continued and christianised by the Gallo-Roman aristocrat, and later bishop of Nola, Paulinus.3 The majority of subsequent collections of this type were made in Gaul or Francia; there were the letters of Sidonius and his acolytes, bishops Avitus of Vienne and Ruricius of Limoges, as well as the now lost collection of Ferreolus of Uzes.4 Later, there were the verse epistles of Venantius Fortunatus and the Epistulae Austrasiacae, probably collected at the Austrasian court.5 From the seventh century there is the collection of another one-time courtier, Desiderius of Cahors.6 The main non-Gallic collection, that

1. The first version of this article was given as a lecture to Brigitte Bedos Rezak's seminar at the University of Maryland. I am indebted to Professor Bedos Rezak, to Dr. Kathleen Mitchell and to the participants at the seminar for their criticisms. The theme of Christian friendship, which is one of my concerns in this essay, seems particularly appropriate for a volume in memory of Denis Bethell, whose faith and capacity for friendship were so remarkable. 2. John F. Matthews, 'The Letters of Symmachus', in J. W. Binns, ed., Latin Literature of the Fourth Century (London, 1974), pp. 58-99. 3. P. Fabre, Saint Paitlin de Nole et I'amitie chretienne, Bibliotheque des Ecoles Francises d'Athenes et de Rome, vol. 161 (Paris, 1949). 4. Gregory of Tours, Decent libri historiarum, book 6, c. 7, ed. B. Krusch and W. Levison, MGH: Scriptores Rerum Merovingicarum, 1, 1 (Hanover, 1951). For this period Giles Constable, Letters and Letter Collections, Typologie des sources du moyen age occidental, 17 (Turnhout, 1976) has little to offer. 5. Ian N. Wood, 'Administration, Law and Culture in Merovingian Gaul', in Rosamond McKitterick, ed., The Uses of Literacy in Early Medieval Europe (Cambridge, 1990), p. 68 6. Ibid., pp. 68-69.

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of Ennodius of Pavia, is from the pen of a man who was Gallic by birth, even though his career lay in Ostrogothic Italy.7 These collections, that of Sidonius apart, have not been much used by historians. At first sight they are not promising materials; they contain little factual information, tending rather to be concerned with the process of greeting and with professions of friendship, and they are often couched in a forbiddingly obscure style. One letter from the collection of Avitus of Vienne is a short, and perhaps extreme, example: Avitus the bishop to Stephen the bishop. After the holy festival, which we passed, albeit with longing and worry, with your support and with the help of God, we are subject to the appropriate duty of service and the piety of assiduous care, however deservedly hard it is for us, hoping to be consoled by a knowledge of your prosperity, which may God ever increase.8

In a convoluted way, Avitus thanks Stephen for supporting a church festival in Vienne; he feels indebted, and hopes that all is well with his correspondent. The letter is short (it is translated in full), even though the style used by Avitus is more elaborate than that of most other letter-writers of the period. The general sentiments, however, are the same for all; expressions of thanks and concern, sometimes blossoming into rather florid metaphysical statements about the nature of friendship and the problems of physical separation. To take an example from a less dense writer: Ruricius, greetings to Bishop Aprunculus. Just as I joyfully received the letters of your holiness from the venerable Elogius, so I willingly send these with him on his return. In them I fulfil the required duty of salutation to your apostolic self, and at the same time I ask that you may deign to pray for me, and particularly to request from our common Lord, that when we are at last able to come together and see each other, love, which, for the worse, has cooled in our breasts on account of absence, may by our Lord's command be excited in the sleeping ashes, through our renewed presence, and that flames may spring up again with the new breath of old love. And may these flames, following the custom and virtue of the fire of Him, whom God sent down to earth, burn the thorns of our negligence and sloth with the force of nature and illuminate the darkness of the sleeping heart.9

There are, of course, more informative letters, particularly from the pen of Sidonius, who does cast light on imperial and provincial politics, on the expansion of Visigothic power in Gaul, and on the state of the Catholic church under an Arian regime. But to maximise the letter-collections as evidence for 7. Karl F. Stroheker, Der senatorische Adel im spdtantiken Gallien (Tubingen, 1948), pp. 166-67. 8. Avitus, ep. 58, ed. R. Peiper, MGH: Auctores Antiquissimi (hereafter MGH: AA) 6, 2 (Berlin, 1883). 9. Ruricius, ep. ii, 54, ed. G. Luetjohann, MGH: AA, 8 (Berlin, 1887).

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31

the fifth, sixth and seventh centuries it is necessary to explore matters other than those which add to an understanding of the period's narrative. One relatively well-investigated area is that of prosopography, where the evidence of correspondence is indeed crucial; work on the senatorial aristocracy of late Roman and early medieval Gaul has been largely dependent on the lettercollections.10 The most basic questions of all — what constitutes a lettercollection and why were they popular — are also rewarding. Sidonius's letters are collected in nine books, in the manner of Pliny the Younger, as the author himself remarks.11 He could equally well have modelled his collection on the nine books of private letters by Symmachus. In fact, although he cites both Pliny and Symmachus in the very first letter of the collection, the choice of nine books was an afterthought. This first letter reveals that book one was issued tentatively at the insistence of Constantius, while the next six books seem to have followed separately. The last letter of book seven is again addressed to Constantius, though the first suggests that Petronius was the driving force behind the publication of the new volume. Book nine was inspired by, and dedicated to, Firminus. The collection, therefore, evolved over a considerable period of time, at the request of friends, but at the hand of the author himself. This collection became a touchstone for writing in the next generation. Avitus, who was a close relation, looked back to Sollius, as he called Sidonius,12 and he regarded the great man's son, Apollinaris, as an arbiter of taste, which would have doubtless amused his father, who despaired of his commitment to learning.13 Equally, Ruricius of Limoges was a younger relative and admirer of Sidonius, who hoped to imitate him and to impress Apollinaris.14 Ruricius's grandson, Parthenius, continued the family's reputation for literary skill, but no works of his have survived.15 Nor have the letters which Gregory of Tours says that Ferreolus of Uzes wrote in the style of Sidonius.16 That Sidonius played an important role in fixing the basic pattern for letter-writing in the late fifth and sixth centuries is, therefore, certain. At the same time, this role should not be overemphasised. Ennodius of Pavia, despite his Gallic origins, does not refer to Sidonius by name, nor does he appear to cite him. For Ennodius the centre of learning was Rome, followed by Milan.17 There are other respects in which Ennodius's works undercut the significance

10. Cf. Stroheker, Der senatorische Adel, and Ralph W. Mathisen, The Ecclesiastical Aristocracy of Fifth-Century Gaul: A Regional Analysis of Family Structure' (unpublished University of Wisconsin-Madison Ph D thesis, 1979). 11. Sidonius, ep. ix, 1, ed. A. Loyen (Paris, 1960-70). 12. Avitus, ep. 81. For the relationship between Avitus and Sidonius, see the table in Mathisen, 'The Ecclesiastical Aristocracy of Fifth-Century Gaul', p. 716. 13. Avitus, ep. 43. Cf. Sidonius, ep. iii, 13. 14. Ruricius, epp. ii, 26, 41. 15. Epistulae Austrasiacae, 16, ed. W. Gundlach, MGH: Epistolae (hereafter MGH: Epp} 3 (Berlin, 1892); Stroheker, Der senatorische Adel, p. 199. 16. Gregory, Decem libn histonarum, book 2, c. 34. 17. Ennodius, ed. F. Vogel, MGH: AA, 7 (Berlin, 1885), pp. ccxxv, cclxxxii, ccxc.

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of Sidonius's letters as a model. They suggest a rather different process of editing and publication, since they seem to have been circulated individually, by Ennodius himself and copied out with his agreement. At some point the individual works were put together, and Ennodius appears to have checked part, or all, of the collection.18 Further, the collection itself was not simply composed of letters, although it is possible to gain this mistaken impression from the edition prepared by Hartel for the Corpus Scriptorum Ecclesiasticorum Latinorum. Rather, letters, speeches, sermons and poems jostle together in a way quite alien to the division of Sidonius's oeuvre into letters and poems, which are kept firmly apart, excepting a handful of verses included within individual letters. With these variant models in mind it is worth turning to a third area of evidence for understanding how the letter-collections of Late Antiquity were viewed by their first readers: the letter-collection of Avitus of Vienne and its manuscript tradition. The collection survived in three manuscripts, one of which has vanished since Sirmondus's day. The earliest manuscript, a sixth-century papyrus codex, is fragmentary and only preserves a handful of letters and sermons, or portions of them. The other two manuscripts contained letters only: for the most part their contents were the same, although there were differences in their order. As it survives, the Avitus collection is unquestionably incomplete. Nor is it clear how much is missing. This problem is not helped by the three very different assessments of the number of books of letters written by Avitus. Gregory of Tours says there were nine, and he specifically includes within them the two works Contra Eutychianam haeresim.19 The later Vita Aviti, however, states that there were three books, epistolarum ad diversos lihri tres, but the author appears not to have included the works against Eutyches in these, nor the de subitanea paenitentia, nor other theological works addressed to Gundobad, all of which are listed separately.20 Just to confuse issues further, the manuscript which Sirmondus used in his edition claimed that there were five books.21 These three conflicting accounts may imply the use of different criteria for determining what constituted a book; they may, on the other hand, imply that the collection circulated in various different recensions. These two interpretations are not, of course, incompatible. Quite apart from the difficulty in determining the scale of the lettercollection, it is impossible to determine whether Avitus himself had any hand in its circulation. Certainly he had published other works; he explains in the prologue to his great poem, the De spiritalis historiae gestis, that he has circulated a few of his homilies with the encouragement of friends. Following on from that his brother, Apollinaris, persuaded him to publish

18. Ennodius, ed. Vogel, pp. xxix-xxxi. 19. Gregory, Decem lihri historiarum, book 2, c. 34. 20. Vita Aviti 1, ed. R. Peiper, MGH:AA, 6, p. 2. 21. Avitus, ed. Peiper, p. v.

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some of his poems, and he did think of publishing some epigrammata, but they were dispersed in a major (but now unidentifiable) upheaval. However one of his servants found some lihelli, that is the De spiritalis historiae gestis, which he decided to publish with the support of Apollinaris;22 subsequently his brother induced him to follow this with the poem De consolatoria castitatis laude as well.23 But for the letters there is no evidence of publication during the bishop's lifetime, other than the fact that none can be dated to the very end of his life. If all this makes the Avitus collection more problematic than those of Sidonius and Ennodius, there is one respect in which it is better served. The earliest manuscript of Sidonius's letters is ninth century;24 the same is true of that of the Ennodius collection.25 The sole manuscript of Ruricius's works is also ninth century.26 For Avitus there is the sixth-century papyrus codex. Although this codex is well-known to palaeographers, its importance for an understanding of the letter-collections of the post-Roman period has been ignored by cultural historians, not least because its contents have been misunderstood. Before proceeding it is necessary to establish the relevance of the manuscript to the present inquiry. The first major discussion of the contents of Paris, Bibliotheque Nationale, MSS Lat 8913-14 was that of Leopold Delisle in 1866.27 Delisle naturally concentrated on the most substantial fragments of text surviving in the codex, which happen to contain portions of homilies.28 Seventeen years later Rudolf Peiper produced his edition of Avitus's works for the Monumenta Germaniae Historica. Here he marginalised the importance of the papyrus codex, despite its date. According to the manuscript stemma that he constructed, the codex played no significant part in the transmission of the text of Avitus.29 This conclusion, however, was almost certainly wrong. The papyrus codex was unquestionably annotated by Florus of Lyons.30 Florus also preserved sections of Avitus's works by quoting them at length.31 In all probability he quoted from the papyrus codex, not from Peiper's hypothetical Lyons manuscript. Agobard may have done likewise.32

22. Avitus, Poematum libri, 1-5 (De spiritalis historiae gestis), prologus ad Apollinarem episcopum. Cf. ep. 51. 23. Avitus, Poematum liber, 6 (De consolatoria castitatis laude), prologus ad Apollinarem episcopum. 24. Sidonius, ed. Loyen, p. 1. 25. Ennodius, ed. Vogel, pp. xxii-xxv. 26. Ruricius, ed. Luetjohann, pp. Ixix-lxx. 27. Leopold Delisle and A. Rilliet, Etudes paleographiques et historiques sur des papyrus du vie siecle en partie inedits renferment des homelies de Saint-Amt (Geneva, 1866). 28. For the contents of the papyrus codex see Avitus, ed. Peiper, pp. 41-42, 51-52, 127-57. 29. Avitus, ed. Peiper, p. xxviii. 30. C. Charlier, 'Notes sur les ongmes de Pecriture dite de LuxeuiP, Revue Benedictine 58 (1948), pp. 153-54, n. 14. 31. Avitus, Contra Arrianos, 4-27; Avitus, Contra Phantasma, 28-29. 32. Avitus, Contra Arrianos, 2-3B.

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Peiper confused matters in another more significant way. Although Avitus's letter-collection is undatable, it cannot have been compiled before Sigismund became king in 516,33 and it may not have been compiled until after Avitus's death two years later.34 Certainly it must postdate Avitus's homiliary, which the author himself refers to in the prologue to the De spiritalis historiae gestis. Recognising this, and noting the presence of homilies in the papyrus codex, Peiper concluded that the codex represented a second stage in the transmission of Avitus's works, in which the bishop's letters and homilies were combined. In so concluding, he failed to notice the difference between those homilies included in the papyrus codex and those which belonged to the homiliary. The Avitus homily-collection is described in three places; by the bishop himself, as 'paucis homiliarum mearum in unum corpus redactis' [ca few of my homilies put together in one collection'];35 by Gregory of Tours as 'humiliarum librum unum' ['one book of homilies'], and he identifies one of the texts as being the homily on Rogations;36 and by the author of the Vita Aviti, as 'homilias de diversis temporibus anni' ['homilies for certain times of the year'], in other words a homiliary.37 The homily on rogations could easily belong to such a homiliary and, since there is no suggestion that this work was ever part of the papyrus codex, it is likely that Avitus, his biographer and Gregory of Tours are all talking about the same collection of homilies, and that it had no connection with the letter-collection. By contrast, the sermons in the letter-collection are all intended for specific occasions, dedications of particular churches or the baptism or conversion of named individuals.38 These are not texts fit for a homiliary, because they could not be reused. There is, therefore, no reason for thinking, as did Peiper, that once separate collections of letters and homilies were subsequently combined, and that the combination is represented by the papyrus codex. Rather, the papyrus represents the original letter-collection, which included sermons for specific occasions. Subsequently these sermons must have been edited out. Despite its fragmentary state its evidence should be preferred to that of the other manuscripts when comparison is possible and divergences can be detected, as on one occasion over the order of letters.39 To describe it as a collection of homilies is to misunderstand the nature of the text entirely.40

33. Cf. Avitus, epp. 78, 93. 34. For the date of his death, Ian N. Wood, 'Avitus of Vienne: Religion and Culture in the Auvergne and the Rhone Valley, 470-530' (unpublished Oxford D. Phil thesis, 1980), p. 228. 35. Avitus, Poematum libri 1-5, prologus ad Apollinarem episcopum. 36. Gregory, Decem libri historiarum, book 2, c. 34. 37. Vita Aviti, c. 1. 38. For an assessment of the homilies in the papyrus codex, see Ian N. Wood, 'The Audience of Architecture in Post-Roman Gaul', in Lawrence A. S. Butler and Richard K. Morris ed., The Anglo-Saxon Church, CBA Research Report 60 (London, 1986), pp. 74-79. 39. Thus, scedula Parisina, 5rv (ed. Peiper, p. 154), requires the order of letters to run 55, 56, 51. 40. Cf. the description in Bernard Bischoff, Latin Paleography, trans. Daibhi O' Croinin and David Ganz (Cambridge, 1990), p. 104.

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The papyrus codex thus reveals that the letters of even a very close relative of Sidonius could be gathered together in a way quite alien to his final scheme of nine books in the manner of Pliny. The collection of Ennodius, with its mixture of letters, speeches, sermons, prayers and poems, provides a better parallel for that of Avitus than does the more exclusive selection of Sidonius. Nor is Ennodius the only parallel; the Epistulae Austrasiacae, although all letters, include verse epistles; whilst the vast majority of Venantius Fortunatus's poems are letters. Letters could be seen as part of a wider category and they deserve consideration as such. The question of literary categorisation is not a simple one, but some observations are worth making. Gregory of Tours, who provides the only sixth-century description of Avitus's letter-collection describes it as nine books of letters, among which were two letters commissioned by Gundobad against the Eutychian and Sabellian heresies.41 What impressed him about them was their theology. Nor was a theological reading a stupid one. In the sixth century Avitus's anti-Arian and anti-Eutychian letters were theologically topical. Even in the Carolingian period Felix of Urguel thought that Avitus provided patristic support for his adoptionist views. Agobard countered, offering his own interpretation of Avitus in opposition to Felix, as well as citing him in various other legal and theological treatises.42 Florus included passages of Avitus in his florilegia.43 Although some of the passages used by both Agobard and Florus are from otherwise unknown works, it is possible that these works were all part of the letter-collection. That the collection of Avitus's letters included theological treatises is certain enough, but there is also a respect in which theology and correspondence can be associated. Although the notion of friendship itself may seem intellectually trivial by comparison with the christological ideas of the period, it nevertheless had important theological connotations. The word amicitia was not, perhaps, theologically loaded, but its more exclusively Christian counterpart caritas was. Paulinus of Nola had heightened the spirituality of his letters through his use of the word caritas.44 Friendship throughout this period was understood as a meeting of souls. This is an image which recurs again and again in friendship-letters. It was an issue which was closely associated with the current debate on the nature of the soul, in which the main protagonists were Faustus of Riez, Sidonius's spiritual mentor,45 and Claudianus Mamertus, the brother of Avitus's predecessor as bishop of Vienne.46 Friendship and theology was linked in another way as well: Pope Gelasius associated caritas with the

41. Gregory, Decem libri bistoriarum, book 2, c. 34. 42. Agobard, Liber adversus Felicem Urgellitanum, 39, 41, ed. J. P. Migne, PL, 104. 43. Avitus, Contra Arrianos, 4-27; Avitus, Contra phantasma, 28-29. 44. See Fabre, Saint Paulin de Nole. 45. E. L. Fortin, Christianisme et culture philosophique au cinquieme siecle (Paris, 1959); Ralph W. Mathisen, Ecclesiastical Factionalism and Religious Controversy in Fifth-Century Gaul (Washington, 1989), pp. 235-41; Sidonius, carm. 16. 46. Mathisen, Ecclesiastical Factionalism and Religious Controversy, p. 236.

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friendship of right-minded individuals and contagium with that of heretics.47 Ideas passed through chains of friendship, which therefore tended to be either orthodox or heretical. However light-hearted friendship-letters may seem, they touched on significant theological issues. A theological reading of Avitus's letter-collection is possible. Sidonius's categorisation of theological works, however, provides a different approach to the question of how Avitus's works were read. He describes the library of Ferreolus, where the women sat near the devotional works, 'stylus his religiosus inveniehatur', while the men sat next to works distinguished by the quality of their Latin, 'hi coturno Latiaris eloquii nohilitabantur'. Fortunately he lists some of the writers in the second category, Augustine, Varro, Horace, Prudentius, all men of similar wisdom, 'similis stientiae viri. In the same section there were Rufmus's translations of Origen, whose condemnation as heretical he thought puzzling. As for the quality of the translations themselves, according to Sidonius, Apuleius did not translate Plato's Phaedo, nor Cicero Demosthenes's Ctesiphon with more fidelity or a greater knowledge of Latin usage.48 Clearly the classifications of Sidonius and his friends were not those which we recognise. They might, however, be of relevance for an understanding of the compilation of the Avitus papyrus codex, with its mixture of letters of friendship and its works of theology. Style was of unquestionable importance to Avitus, as to his contemporaries. He has a great deal to say about appropriate style in the prologue to the De spiritalis historiae gestis. In certain respects his comments there are actually at odds with the comments of Sidonius regarding the arrangement of Ferreolus's library: However clever and learned a man may be, if the pen of displayed religion has served faith no less than metrical law, it can scarcely be appropriate for a poem, since a licence to lie, which is granted equally to painters and poets, should be firmly rejected by the gravity of the occasion. For in the creation of a work of secular verses, a man is thought the more skilful according to the elegance, or to speak the truth, the inappropriateness, with which he disguises falsehoods. I will not mention those words or names which are common in works which are not unknown to us, in case I say that it is appropriate to use them in ours. They are of great value in the language of the poets, signifying one thing by another. For this reason, having approached this work, which is difficult rather than fruitful in the judgement of the secular-minded, who say that we have not used poetic licence either because of our lack of skill or because of our ignorance, we have made a firm distinction between divine approval and human estimation. For, in asserting certain things, or even explaining, as required, if anything is done wrong, ostentation is observed less than rectitude by the cleric whose words are salutary, and it is better for the foot of art than the pace of truth to be lame; 47. Gelasius, epp. 7, 4, ed. A. Thiel, Epistolae Romanorum pontificum genuinae (Brunsberg, 1868). See Wood, Avitus ofVienne, p. 163. 48. Sidonius, ep. ii, 9, 4. My interpretation of this passage differs from that of AnneMarie Palmer, Prudentius on the Martyrs (Oxford, 1989), pp. 91, 94.

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liberty of speech is not an excuse for committing sin. But if for every idle word which they speak men are compelled to give a reason, it may be assumed that it will immediately be seen that more harm is likely to come to what has been thought or considered, if the laws of speech are put before the laws of life.49

In other words, a Christian poet should put the requirements of truth before the requirements of metre. This might seem to suggest that Avitus would not have been in agreement with Ferreolus's library classification, and that he would have found the grouping of Augustine and Varro, Horace and Prudentius, as offensive. Nevertheless, there is some reason for thinking that the prologue to the De spiritalis historiae gestis, while serving as a literary testament, is an incomplete guide to Avitus' own work. The poet himself was extremely sensitive to the state of his poetry and was deeply upset that Apollinaris should have seen an uncorrected transcript of it, unemended, crude and not polished to his satisfaction.50 The extent of his pernickety attitude towards literary and rhetorical style can be seen even more in the umbrage he took when he was accused of committing a barbarism in his pronunciation during a sermon; he defended himself in a letter complete with citations from Vergil.51 Avitus does seem to have regarded his religious poetry as having a different function from his other writings. In the prologue to his sixth poem, the De consolatoria castitatis laude, he says that, it has long been, and is now, right, if something is to be written for public consumption, to take trouble and time in the use of a rather heavier style, and not to stick to that which, by preserving the weight of individual syllables, addresses the learned only, following rather what is useful to many readers, through the measured instruction of faith. 52

Unlike his poems, for which Avitus seems to have envisaged a wider audience, his letters were directed towards the learned; they were therefore subject to more stringent literary criteria. The question of audience is thus vital for an understanding of a work, or a collection of works, and its, or their, style. The letters of Avitus obviously had a very rarified readership. By extension, his surviving theological works, which are all epistular tracts, addressed to specific individuals, were not aimed at a wide group. Nor were those sermons which were included in the lettercollection; they were not the homilies (de diversis temporibus anni', but those for specific occasions. Like the letters, these would have been addressed to a very refined audience, largely made up of fellow churchmen, aristocrats and courtiers.53 It was at just such a sermon that Avitus was supposed to 49. Avitus, Poematum lihri, 1-5, prologus ad Apollinarem episcopum. 50. Idem, ep. 51. 51. Idem, ep. 57. 52. Idem, 6, prologus ad Apollinarem episcopum. 53. Wood, 'The Audience of Architecture', pp. 75-76.

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have committed his barbarism of pronunciation, according to Viventiolus. His critic, labelled as a rhetor by Avitus, may actually have been the metropolitan bishop of Lyons. He was the natural recipient of a proper disquisition on Vergilian style.54 Identification of the audience of Avitus's letter-collection, and of the literary nature of the criteria by which it would have been judged, provides one spring-board for understanding the function of letters and letter-collections in the post-Roman period. Essentially we are dealing with a category of material in which style is crucial and which was highly regarded by an increasingly limited group of individuals. With this in mind, it is useful to look back to some of the conclusions arrived at in work done on Symmachus and the senatorial aristocracy of the late Roman Empire. As with later collections of letters that of Symmachus is, at a narrative level, largely uninformative. What it reveals is the extent of the senator's connections and the use to which he put those connections. Preparations for the consular games required the assistance of friends who could help supply animals and gladiators. Equally, friends could be called upon to provide political or legal support. Even those letters that convey no more than greetings are best seen as deliberately smoothing lines of communication in case they should be needed in future. 55 Sidonius's letters undoubtedly had the same function, particularly after the fall of the Auvergne to the Visigoths. At that time Sidonius, by then bishop of Clermont, needed all the help he could get to ingratiate himself with a regime that he had been determined to prevent taking power in his own part of Gaul; hence the letters to Evodius, Lampridius and Leo.56 In the next generation, similar patterns of contact are apparent: Avitus writes for help in a law-suit;57 Ennodius lobbies Boethius for some land;58 the early verse epistles of Venantius are a mirror of his reception into Austrasian society.59 There is also a famous letter from the seventh century, that of Desiderius lamenting his absence from the court caused by his career in the provinces and his elevation to the see of Cahors, listing nostalgically all his contemporaries.60 All of the above essentially look to the same issues. Letters were a way of preserving and cultivating much needed connections, or rather amicitia, when individuals were no longer in direct physical contact; hence the recurrent concern, often expressed in theological terms, with the ability of friendship to survive separation. Neither the letters of Sidonius, nor those from any of the other collections, can be reduced simply to this process of creating and ensuring a circle of friends, but this was undoubtedly a major

54. Avitus, ep. 57; for Viventiolus, bishop of Lyons, epp. 59, 67, 68, 69, 73. 55. Matthews, 'The Letters of Symmachus', pp. 72-73. 56. Sidonius, epp. iv, 8, 22; viii, 3, 9. 57. Avitus, ep. 55. 58. Ennodius, ccclxx, cdviii, cdxv, cdxviii. 59. R. Koebner, Venantius Fortunatus (Leipzig, 1915), pp. 14-39. 60. Desiderius of Cahors, ep. i, 10, ed. W. Arndt, MGH, Epp. 3; and see Wood 'Administration, Law and Culture in Merovingian Gaul', p. 70.

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element in the popularity of letter-writing as a genre. In part the writing of letters in the sub-Roman period was an exercise geared to the survival of a particular literate class in the face of the changing circumstances of the end of the Roman Empire and the establishment of the successor states. They are strategic documents rather than the frivolous creation of an idle aristocracy. Identifying the purpose of some, though by no means all, of the letters contained in the collections of the fifth, sixth and seventh centuries is not necessarily the same as identifying the function of the collections themselves. The range of the letters and other material means that a rather broader interpretative model needs to be envisaged. Not only does the variety of types of letters require consideration, but so too does the inclusion of sermons in the case of the Avitus collection, and of poems, speeches, prayers and sermons in that of Ennodius. It is as well to be aware of the distinction between a collection such as that of Sidonius or of Ennodius, created by or with the approval of the author, and any, perhaps including those of Avitus and Ruricius, which may have been compiled by scribes out of the author's files. The former is more likely to have had a more focused literary purpose. The concern with eloquence shown by fifth-and sixth-century authors may well have been a factor in the compilation of the letter-collections. If Augustine, Varro, Horace and Prudentius were classified by style in the library of Ferreolus, it is difficult to see how the letter-collections of late antiquity could have found their way into the library's alternative classification of devotion. The letter-writers wrote in styles to be admired; just as Sidonius admired Symmachus and Cicero, so too he was admired by Ruricius, Avitus and by Ferreolus of Uzes, who wrote, quasi Sidonium secutus. The possibility that these letter-collections were used as model books receives some support from the parallel with the Variae of Cassiodorus, which were compiled specifically for those '"schooling themselves in eloquence for the service of the state" and for whom the letters will provide examples of correct usage'.61 The question of service of the state may seem irrelevant to the Gallic collections of the period. Yet, among the letters of Avitus are two purporting to have been written by the Burgundian king, Sigismund, to the Byzantine emperor.62 In all probability they were composed by the bishop of Vienne for the king, which would explain why they survive in the letter-collection, though this does not mean that Avitus was little more than a court bishop, as has sometimes been argued.63 The style of these letters bears such a close relationship to that of Cassiodorus's letters to the emperor that it must be assumed that both writers were working in an established tradition of imperial address.64 Presumably, when the collection of Avitus letters was made, it was 61. Helen Kirby, 'The Scholar and His Public', in Margaret Gibson, ed., Boethius: His Life, Thought and Influence (Oxford, 1981), p. 50. 62. Avitus, epp. 78, 93; cf. also 94. 63. Wood, Avitus of Vienne, p. 237. 64. Cassiodorus, Variae, viii, 1; x, 1, 2, 8, 9, 15, 19, 22, 25, 26, 32; xi, 13, ed. Theodore Mommsen, MGH, AA 12 (Berlin, 1894).

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thought to be worth including these letters of Sigismund, and presumably their style was thought to be instructive. Nor were other compilers averse to including official documents in their collections. Although the Epistulae Austrasiacae does include simple letters of amicitia, there are letters addressed to the Emperor Justinian by King Theudebert on matters of protocol,65 by his son Theudebald on diplomacy,66 and by Nicetius, bishop of Trier, on the persecution of the orthodox.67 In addition there is part of an exchange of letters, involving the courts of Prankish Austrasia, Visigothic Spain and Byzantine Constantinople, concerning the fate of Queen Brunhild's daughter and grandson,68 as well as a significant correspondence between Childebert II and the Byzantine court over relations between Greeks and Franks in Italy.69 These collections could have overlapped in their purposes with that of Cassiodorus and the Epistulae Austrasiacae in particular could have been a handbook for any Austrasian courtier. The papyrus codex may imply that the Avitus collection was compiled for utilitarian rather than literary reasons. As currently preserved, it is a series of folios bound into a splendid, but quite inappropriate, and very damaging, seventeenth-century binding. The folios are large: the largest surviving fragment measures 302mm X 296mm.70 These facts tell us something about the way in which the collection was viewed. The size of the sheets suggest that this was a significant volume, but its being written on papyrus suggests that it was not intended to last in the way that the bishop's poems, copied in membranasy on parchment, were.71 The text is written in cursive. The hand is difficult and was thought by some who were not used to it in the sixteenth century 'que ce soit lettre grecque'. Guillaume Paradin thought nevertheless that 'la lettre soit belle et nette', but admitted that 'il luy seroit mal aise d'en lire une page en huict jours'.72 More prosaically, E.A. Lowe characterised the script as 'a bold, rapid cursive minuscule of an unmistakably Merovingian type', though he did note that the spelling is 'often faulty, with frequent confusion of e and /, o and u, b and u, ci for ti\ and he went on to say that 'grammatical errors abound'. Lowe may suggest a more fruitful line of approach when he adds that 'the form of the ex ligature becomes characteristic of Merovingian charters'.73 Following this observation, it seems reasonable to ask whether the scribe of the Avitus codex was not more used to the compilation of administrative documents than to the 65. Epistulae Austrasiacae, 19, 24. 66. Ibid., 18. 67. Ibid., 7. 68. Ibid., 26-30, 43-45. 69. Ibid., 31-41, 46. 70. E. A. Lowe, Codices latini antiquiores, 5, p. 17. But see the slight modification in Bischoff, Latin Palaeography, p. 104. 71. Avitus, ep. 51. 72. Delisle and Rilliet, fctudes paleographiques, p. 14. 73. Lowe, Codices latini antiquiores, 5, p. 17. But see the slight modification in Bischoff, Latin Palaeography, p. 104.

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transcription of literary texts. In excusing a manuscript of his poems, Avitus explains that it came 'non de librariis sed adhuc ex notarii manu adeo mihi non emendatum crudumque' ['not from a copyist, but straight from the hand of a notary, still rough and uncorrected by me'].74 The distinction between a librarius and a notarius is an interesting one, suggesting that there were copyists who produced de luxe editions, and there were scribes whose job was a rather less rarified level of transcription. Ruricius seems to have had access to a producer of high-quality copies: the hybliopola whom he sent to transcribe copies of the Heptateuch and the Prophets greatly impressed Sidonius, who owned the texts which were being copied.75 Presumably the scribae who accompanied Sidonius, when he seized a work of Faustus of Riez from the bag of the priest Riocatus and had it transcribed there and then, were mere notaries.76 They were doubtless members of the bishop's household, used to rapid transcription rather than the production of de luxe manuscripts, probably using the shorthand known as Tironian notes.77 With this distinction between notaries and copyists in mind, and taking note of the form and the hand of the papyrus codex, it may well be that we should assign it to a bishop's household, probably that of Avitus or one of his successors at Vienne. There may even be some evidence to suggest that scribes of the church of Vienne produced multiple copies of the collection, since Bignon, who transcribed the papyrus codex in the seventeenth century, also transcribed some additional fragments, now lost, which overlap with those still preserved, suggesting that originally there was at least a pair of codices of Avitus's letters.78 A number of pieces of evidence relating to the archives of bishops may add a little more to this picture. There is the account of the trial of Egidius, bishop of Rheims, in 590, set down by Gregory of Tours.79 Egidius was accused of improperly receiving gifts from King Chilperic II: he produced the deeds, but the referendarius, Otto, said that the validating signature was a forgery. Then Egidius was accused of sending treasonable letters to Chilperic; this he denied, 'sed puer eius familiaris adfuit, qui haec notarum titulis per thomus chartarum conprehensa tenebat' ['but his personal servant was present, who had these writings, with the titles of the letters, collected in a volume of documents']. Hagendahl postulated the existence of a similar archive for Ruricius of Limoges when he noted that the recurrence of phrases in his letters showed that the bishop used his own past correspondence to provide stylistic models.80 Such episcopal archives and notaries are likely to be relevant to an understanding of the origins of the Avitus letter-collection. 74. Avitus, ep. 51. 75. Sidonius, ep. v, 15. 76. Sidonius, ep. ix, 9, 8. 77. David Ganz, 'Bureaucratic Shorthand and Merovingian Learning', in Patrick Wormald, ed., Ideal and Reality in Prankish and Anglo-Saxon Society (Oxford, 1983), pp. 58-75. 78. Paris, Bibliotheque Nationale, MS Baluze 297, 69v, 71r. See Wood, Avitus of Vienne, p. 239. 79. Gregory, Decem libri historiarum, book 10, c. 19. 80. H. Hagendahl, La correspondence de Ruricius, Acta universitatis Gotohurgensis, 58, 3 (1952), pp. 12-31.

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The notion that these collections might have been handbooks of style may help to explain the variety of contents in some of the compilations which come from the sixth, rather than the fifth century, since in Gaul, at least, the possibility of receiving a rhetorical training seems to have been slight or non-existent by 500.81 Perhaps the collections of Avitus and the Epistulae Austrasiacae owe their range to an awareness of the absence of any schools of rhetoric. The original collection of Avitus's letters would have provided models for correspondence and for sermons appropriate to the rhetorically charged atmosphere of a church dedication. The compilation of Ennodius's works also included secular speeches and sermons. It would be dangerous, however, to push this interpretation too far: the collection of Ruricius's letters is as formally coherent as that of Sidonius; so too is what remains of that of the seventh-century bishop of Cahors, Desiderius. In Italy, although the collection of Ennodius is as varied as any, at least in his early life schools of rhetoric still existed; indeed some of his works are specifically addressed to the rhetor Deuterius and his school.82 Ennodius's writings imply that the survival of such schools had been in question. With regard to the collection of the letters of Desiderius of Cahors, it is important to remember that only a group of those letters which were known to the Carolingians has survived within the collection.83 By the end of the seventh century the need for models for rather more formal modes of address may have been filled in part by the compilation of formularies: that of Marculf, compiled around the year 700, includes model letters to and from the king.84 It is probable that letter-collections were reckoned to provide models for correspondence and possibly, on occasion, for poetry and for public speeches as well. The Avitus papyrus is, not surprisingly, a functional manuscript rather than a de luxe one. Of course such collections were not intended as models for all, any more than the late Roman schools of rhetoric had provided a common education. They were used by a specific group of literate aristocrats, in part to perpetuate their group identity and influence. It is therefore not surprising that the sub-Roman letter-collections appealed to writers in the ninth century, when there were similar coteries of literati: the Carolingians found in these collections models for their own correspondence. The tally of one ninth-and four tenth-century manuscripts of Sidonius's letters out of a total of nine seems significant, as does the fact that the earliest manuscript was created at the court of Louis the Pious.85 Equally suggestive is the fact that the sole surviving manuscripts of Ruricius, the Epistulae Austrasiacae and Desiderius of Cahors all come from the ninth century. By contrast the absence of a Carolingian 81. Pierre Riche, Education et culture dans ['Occident barbare (Paris, 1962), pp. 69-75. 82. Ennodius, iii, xxiv, Ixix, Ixxxv, xciv, cxxiv, ccviii, ccxiii, ccxxxiv, cdli. 83. Wood, 'Administration, Law and Culture in Merovingian Gaul', p. 70. 84. Marculf, Formulae i, ed. K. Zeumer, Formulae Merowingici et Karolini aevi, MGH: Legum Sectio, v (Hanover, 1886). 85. Rosamond McKitterick, The Carolingians and the Written Word (Cambridge, 1989), p. 154.

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manuscript of Avitus is curious, especially given the citations of the bishop of Vienne by Felix of Urguel and Agobard, and Florus's use of the papyrus codex. It may be that by debating the meaning of Avitus's theological works Felix both promoted Avitus into being a Father of the Church, at the same time rendered his writings suspect to his opponents, who excerpted them but apparently did not transcribe them in full. Although there are suggestive parallels between the writings of the Carolingian literati and those of the fifth, sixth and seventh centuries, it is on the writers of the earlier period that we should conclude. A literary tradition which had been established in the Roman period came to prominence in Gaul, and to a lesser extent in Italy, in the last days of the empire. In the case of Avitus's prose writings the tradition was blended with a strong theological component, but for the most part the prominence of this literary tradition indicates social use. The utilitarian nature of letters in turn led to a vogue for letter-collections. Since the vogue continued well into the Merovingian period, it is probable that letters continued to have a social function at least until the late seventh century.86 In the sixth century the vogue for collecting letters may well have been connected with the decline in the availability of rhetorical education and the increasing need for written models of poems, speeches and sermons, as well as letters. Clearly the letter-collections of the late antique and post-Roman periods were of greater importance than their often uninformative contents imply.

86. Wood, 'Administration, Law and Culture in Merovingian Gaul', p. 69.

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3

A Sense of Wonder: Gregory of Tours, Medicine and Science1 Edward James

Among the interests I shared with Denis Bethell was a fascination with early medieval historians, among whom above all was the Venerable Bede — St. Bede, as Denis used to call him to tease me, and whom, to tease Denis, I used to compare disparagingly with Gregory of Tours. Then there was our fascination with SF — science fiction. One memorable product of Denis's periods in Phoenix and Santa Barbara during the 1970s, from my point of view, was the pile of American SF books he brought back for me each time — after having read them himself, of course. Denis would no doubt be amused at the way in which my part-time interest developed during the 1980s: I now publish regular SF reviews for several publications, write academic articles on the history of SF — including two on the spate of science fiction written in Ulster in the late nineteenth century2 — and edit Foundation, the only academic journal of SF criticism outside North America. Denis and I could see the connections between these apparently disparate interests: science fiction, or speculative fiction, or SF, is essentially, and at its best, an historical fiction. It is speculation on and construction of the history of the future. Indeed, in

1. This essay began life as the Denis Bethell Memorial Lecture for 1989. It was delivered in May of that year at University College, Dublin in the History Board Room — a room memorable not only for the many endless departmental meetings which I attended between 1970 and 1978, but also as the venue for the seminars for the M.Phil in Medieval Studies. The first M.Phil students arrived in 1970, and the first seminar series was on 'Early Medieval Kingship'. The organiser of the whole programme was, of course, Denis Bethell, who did so much to animate and inspire the M.Phil course, and, indeed, all aspects of medieval studies in U.C.D. In the preface to my book The Origins of France: From Clovis to the Capetians, 500-1000, which was published in 1982 by Macmillan in the series New Studies in Medieval History under the general editorship of Denis Bethell and was dedicated to him in the year of his death, I wrote that 'I learnt more from Denis Bethell about my subject, and about the art of teaching, than I have from anyone else'. It was a great honour and privilege to be invited to deliver the Denis Bethell Memorial Lecture, not to mourn Denis's passing, but to remember with affection and gratitude his presence and his inspiration. And it is a great pleasure to be able to record the fact here. 2. '1886: Past Views ot Ireland's Future', Foundation 36 (1986), pp. 21-30 and 'The Anglo-Irish Disagreement: Past Irish Futures', The Linen Hall Review 3 (1986), pp. 5-8

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the case of alternative history SF is the history of the past.3 It is history with all the usual constraints of plausibility, causation, and so on, but without the constraints of evidence. (It is not unlike early medieval history in that respect.) In brief, it is a poetic version of history — history supplied with a sense of wonder. A remark Denis once made during a session in the course that he and I taught for five or six years, called 'Problems in Evidence' (a course that was in fact about Bede), may serve as an epigraph to this essay: 'Hagiography is the early medieval version of science fiction'. C A Sense of Wonder', the title of this essay, would have a familiar ring about it to any science fiction critic: it is the phrase used since the 1930s at least to typify the particular and most characteristic aspect of SF, 'which is at the root of the excitement of science fiction' — 'awe at the vastness of space and time'.4 The Romanian literary critic Professor Cornel Robu has recently argued that it is a modern manifestation of the Sublime, first analysed properly by Edmund Burke, and serving throughout the Romantic period as a central aesthetic principle in both literature and art.5 The essence of the Sublime is the sense of wonder, awe, or even terror, induced by the infinite, the enormous, the inexplicable, above all as manifested in the natural world: it is an aspect of religious feeling, and an emotion lying behind many a scientist's curiosity. For both Edmund Burke and Immanuel Kant, and one suspects for many SF readers, the Sublime can most readily be encountered in the starry sky. In De cursu stellarum Gregory of Tours himself described the fourteen miracula or wonders of the world that included not only the seven great man-made wonders of the ancients — most of which, as he says, have disappeared — but also the seven greater wonders of the natural world. Here he lists tides, the growth of seeds, the phoenix (the symbol of resurrection), Mount Etna, the springs of Grenoble, and above all the great miracula of the sky — the sun and moon and the stars.6 Gregory's description of the movement of the stars, including drawings of the major constellations, has been called 'impressively accurate', while S.C. McCluskey has noted that the stellar observations in

3. On which see E. James, 'The Historian and SF', Foundation 35 (1985/86), pp. 5-13; and for an up-to-date bibliography, Barton C. Hacker and Gordon B. Chamberlain, 'Pasts that Might Have Been, ii, A Revised Bibliography of Alternative History', in Alternative Histories: Eleven Stories of the World As it Might Have Been, ed. C. G. Waugh and M. H. Greenberg (New York, 1986), pp. 301-63. 4. The phrases are those of the medievalist and SF editor David Hartwell, in Age of Wonders: Exploring the World of Science Fiction (New York, 1984), p. 42, who provides the best analysis of the sense of wonder from a reader-response point of view. 5. C. Robu, 'A Key to Science Fiction: the Sublime', Foundation 42 (1988), pp. 21-37. 6. De cursu stellarum is the title of the work given to the sole manuscript of what Gregory called De cursibus ecclesiasticis; it is edited by A. Krusch, MGH: Scriptores Rerum Merovingicarum, vol. I, part II, pp. 404-22 (hereafter cited as Krusch II). This work has been translated by W. C. McDermott in E. Peters, ed., Monks, Bishops and Pagans (Philadelphia, 1975), pp. 209-18. Krusch's edition of Gregory's works originally appeared in one volume, with continuous pagination. My citations are from the 1951 reprint, where the Histories retain the same pagination as in vol. I, part I (hereafter cited as Krusch I). Those works found in volume I, part II are paginated from pp. 1—427 rather than as the original pp. 451-877.

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the treatise are precise enough to locate those observations in northern Gaul towards the end of the sixth century, thus confirming the authorship of a treatise which is ascribed to Gregory only in one of the eight manuscripts.7 Tides, the growth of seeds, the movement of the stars and the sun are wonders which come directly from God and, unlike human wonders, cin no age grow old, by no accident fall, by no loss are diminished, except when the Master shall have ordained that the universe be destroyed'.8 Gregory could not explain the wonders of tides or heavenly movements in rational terms, any more than he could explain wonders of healing by saints; but he could contemplate them, and the sense of wonder which he derived from them suffuses all his writings. Thus, this essay endeavours to unite two of Denis Bethell's interests — and two of mine — by focusing on Gregory of Tours, one of the most crucial figures in early medieval history not only because of the importance of his writings as a source for the history of post-Roman Europe, but also because of the way he has often been taken as typical of his age, and indeed of the whole 'Dark Ages'. By his own admission or claim, Gregory was uneducated, unsophisticated, uncritical, naive, credulous, superstitious and an admirer of violent and brutal authority (although this latter aspect, for Professor Vinay, writing his major study of San Gregorio di Tours in Mussolini's Italy, was in fact Gregory's only redeeming feature).9 It is thanks to this stereotype of Gregory, of course, that his 'impressively accurate' astronomical treatise has appeared so surprising to many. Gregory of Tours (d. 594) was born around 540 into a wealthy Roman senatorial family living in the Auvergne in central Gaul — an area savagely incorporated into the Prankish kingdom of Austrasia by the Franks after Theuderic's attack in the 520s10 — but as he proudly and perhaps accurately states, his family also supplied the city of Tours with all but five of its bishops.11 He followed his mother's cousin Eufronius to the see of Tours in 573, remaining bishop of this metropolitan see, strategically and unfortunately situated in an area often in dispute between the reigning Prankish kings of the Merovingian dynasty in the later sixth century. He remained bishop, playing 7. Walter Goffart, The Narrators of Barbarian History (A.D. 550-800): Jordanes, Gregory of Tours, Bede, and Paul the Deacon (Princeton, 1988), p. 131; S. C. McCluskey, 'Gregory of Tours, Monastic Timekeeping, and Early Christian Attitudes to Astronomy,' I sis 81 (1990), pp. 9-22, at p. 18. 8. Peters, ed., Monks, Bishops and Pagans, p. 213. 9. Goffart states in Narrators of Barbarian History, p. 130, that 'Vinay's conclusion tempts one to ask, maliciously, whether admiration for barbaric vigor is necessarily less infantile than belief in miracles'. 10. For the date, see I. N. Wood, 'The Ecclesiastical Politics of Merovingian Clermont', in Ideal and Reality in Prankish and Anglo-Saxon Society: Studies Presented to J. M. WallaceHadrill, ed. P. Wormald, et al. (Oxford, 1983), p. 38, n. 8. 11. A claim discussed by R. W. Mathisen, 'The Family of Georgius Florentius Gregorius and the Bishops of Tours', Medievalia et Humanistica, 12 (1984), pp. 83-95 and L. Pietri, La ville de Tours du IVe au Vie siecle: naissance d'une ville chretienne (Rome, 1983).

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an important political and ecclesiastical role in Prankish affairs — by his own account — for twenty-one years. He wrote, as he tells us, 'Ten books of Historiae, seven books of Miracula [which I am going to translate, following Professor Goffart, as Wonders], and one on the Life of the Fathers. I have also composed a book of Commentaries on the Psalms; I also wrote a book on the Offices of the Church'.12 It is an impressive body of work, totally overshadowing the rest of our surviving material from sixth-century Gaul in its scope, detail and vividness; and, perhaps most important of all, in what it reveals of one individual, Gregory himself. The primary objective is thus to try to get a little closer to Gregory and how his mind worked through a study of his own experiences and a few of those of his family members. This will involve looking at his attitude to 'wonders': for it is this, above all, which has brought down on his head the scorn of nineteenth- and twentieth-century historians, who commonly regard a religion which lays more stress on miracles than on theology or even moral teaching as a degenerate form of Christianity fitted only for a degenerate and superstitious age. I hope to show how, on the contrary, Gregory's attitude to wonders shows intellectual curiosity and even a proto-scientific attitude to experimentation. I shall for the most part take Gregory's accounts at face value, while being aware of the possibility of the use of miracle-stories as metaphor,13 of the importance of searching for literary (and especially biblical) parallels and sources of inspiration. As William McCready has argued in his study of Gregory's contemporary Gregory the Great and his attitude to miracles, an enthusiasm for seeing miracle stories in largely literary terms can mislead the modern historian who is trying to understand the mental world of the sixth century: [Gregory the Great] perceived the world scripturally. He thought of it as another book of the Bible, and believed his basic exegetical principles could be extended to the realm of nature as well. To Gregory's mind, the world is not, or not simply, a machine functioning on its own; it is a realm in which God converses with us by means of the very structure he has posited in things, and it is open at any moment to his direct intervention.14 12. He lists his works in Historiae, x, p. 31 (Krusch I, pp. 535-36). Of these books Gregory's Histories have been translated into English by Lewis Thorpe (Harmondsworth, 1974) and O. M. Dalton (Oxford, 1926), both giving it its later Merovingian name of the History of the Franks. The Glory of the Confessors and the Glory of the Martyrs are translated by Raymond Van Dam (both Liverpool, 1988). The Life of the Fathers has been translated by me (Liverpool, 1985; second edition 1991). So far only book one of the Wonders of St. Martin has been published (in E. Peters, Monks, Bishops and Pagans), but Raymond Van Dam is currently working on a translation of the four books of this text and of the Passion and Wonders of St. Julian. These two translations will appear in a book provisionally titled Miracle Stories in Late Antique Gaul. I am most grateful to Professor Van Dam for making his draft manuscript available to me in its entirety; I have used his translation of Wonders of St. Martin and Passion and Wonders of St. Julian in what follows. Van Dam without a page reference relates to this work. 13. As admirably discussed in G. De Nie, Views from a Many-Windowed Tower: Studies of Imagination in the Works of Gregory of Tours (Amsterdam, 1987). 14. W. C. McCready, Signs of Sanctity: Miracles in the Thought of Gregory the Great (Toronto, 1989), p. 259.

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By confining myself largely to those miracles witnessed by Gregory and those close to him, I hope to be able to get closer to understanding Gregory of Tours's own perspective on the world. Gregory was born into a world of pain that could only ultimately be relieved by prayer and subsequent miracle. 'After the pains of childbirth had passed by and she gave birth', he wrote, 'my mother developed a pain in the muscle of her lower leg.' The pain was so severe that she would sometimes faint, and only warmth or ointment could relieve it. Thirty-four years later, at the time of Gregory's ordination as bishop, his mother came to Tours. She stayed for two or three months by the shrine of St. Martin, where she was cured.15 Gregory's father Florentius suffered from gout. The infant Gregory, who had only just learnt his letters, had a vision in which he was told to write a name on a small chip of wood and put it under his father's pillow. A dutiful little boy, he went to his mother Armentaria, who told the boy to do as the figure in the vision had said. Gregory's father recovered. But a year later he was ill again; this time the vision asked Gregory if he had read the Book of Tobit. (He hadn't.) He was told to do as was written there: catch a fish and burn its heart and liver. As the smoke reached Gregory's father's nose, he was cured.16 Gregory's father was clearly devoted to relics. He carried some with him at the time of Theuderic's capture of Clermont: ground ashes in a gold medallion. 'Although he did not even know the name of the blessed men whose relics they were', Gregory reported, 'he was accustomed to relate that he had been rescued from many dangers' — from bandits, floods and violent men. The relics were passed on to Gregory's mother. There was a fire in the straw, while she picnicked with threshers (an interesting sidelight on the everyday life of senatorial folk in sixth-century Gaul); she held the relics in front of the fire and it died down.17 The relics were passed on to Gregory. While travelling from Burgundy to Clermont a storm rose up; he lifted the relics above his head and divided the clouds, so that it rained on either side of him but not on the road. 'Then, as a presumptuous man is expected to behave, I began to be inflamed by the arrogance of vain glory', and his horse threw him to the ground.18 Gregory always made sure that he travelled with relics, in '[a bag] around the neck, just like those amulets we find the likes of Caesarius and Gregory of Tours condemning so forcefully'.19 He writes, 'I was as usual wearing the relics of the Blessed Virgin Mary along with those of the Holy Apostles and the Blessed Martin, that had been placed in a gold cross'. He found a cottage on fire. The family who lived there tried to put it out with water, but in vain. 'Lifting the cross from my chest I held it up against the fire; soon, in the 15. Wonders of St. Martin, iii. 10; Krusch II, p. 185. 16. Glory of the Confessors, p. 39; Krusch II, p. 322. 17. Glory of the Martyrs, p. 83; Krusch II, p. 94. 18. Glory of the Martyrs, p. 83; Krusch II, p. 95. 19. Valerie I. J. Flint, The Rise of Magic in Early Medieval Europe (Princeton and Oxford, 1991), p. 304.

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presence of the holy relics, the entire fire stopped'.20 When bishop, Gregory went to see Bishop Egidius of Reims (one of the villains of the History]; he took with him relics of St. Martin, 'although rashly', he says, as if suddenly remembering the rulings of the church councils. Siggo, the referendary of the late King Sigibert, had gone deaf in one ear three days earlier; it was cured while speaking to Gregory, and Gregory attributed this to Martin.21 Martin of Tours, bishop some two centuries before Gregory, was of course Gregory's special protector. When he went to Cavaillon in Provence to visit his mother he brought some of Martin's dust with him in case any of his people fell ill: a sensible travel precaution. A servant indeed fell ill on arrival and after three days was brought to Gregory, who cured him with dust. I myself suffered from a painful toothache. When not just my teeth but my entire head was pierced by the pounding of my veins and by my stinging pains, I sought assistance [from this dust]. Soon my pain lessened and I recovered. O indescribable antidote! O unspeakable balm! O praiseworthy remedy! O heavenly purgative, if I may say so! This dust overwhelms the subtleties of doctors, surpasses sweet scents, and is more powerful than all strong ointments. Like scammony it purges the stomach, and like hyssop, the lungs; and like pyrethrum it cleanses even the head. Not only does it strengthen disabled limbs but — something that is more important than all these — it removes and lightens those very blemishes of conscience.22

This close comparison between the physical effects of relics and those of medicine is one that we shall return to; the passage not only demonstrates Gregory's familiarity with medical practices, but also shows that he believes relics to be more efficacious because, unlike herbs, they heal the conscience. Some of the wonders witnessed by Gregory were of a very different kind from cures worked by relics. 'After my ordination I went to the Auvergne and visited Brioude', Gregory writes, which was for the festival of one of the favourite saints of his family, St. Julian of Brioude. After the festival he took some of the fringe of the veil hanging over the tomb because monks of Tours building a basilica for St. Julian wanted some relics. 'I secretly took my reliquary and at nightfall hurried to the church of St. Martin. A trustworthy man, who was at the time standing at a distance, told me that when I entered the church he saw an immense flash of light fall from heaven, descend over the church, and then enter as it were inside'.23 Light often signified that heavenly virtue was close by.24 There were relics of the Virgin Mary at Marsat in the 20. Glory of the Martyrs, p. 10; Krusch II, p. 45. 21. Wonders of St. Martin, iii, 17; Krusch II, p. 187. 22. Wonders of St. Martin, iii, 60; Krusch II, p. 197, transl. Van Dam. Krusch reads 'Cavaillon', but as Van Dam suggests this could be because of Gregory's erratic spelling; it may well be Chalon-sur-Saone, i.e., Cahillonum rather than Cabellio. 23. Passion and Wonders of St. Julian 34; Krusch II, p. 128, transl. Van Dam. 24. On the symbolism of light, see the excellent discussion in De Nie, Views from a Many-Windowed Tower, pp. 133-211.

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Auvergne. Gregory travelled in the dark to vigils at the church and saw a bright light shining inside the building. But the door was locked with a key and there was no sound. The custodian unlocked the door for Gregory, and at the glow of Gregory's candle the bright light disappeared — 'I think because of the blackness of my sins. Inside I could find nothing from which that bright light had originated except the power of the glorious Virgin'.25 An even more wondrous happening was in an oratory in Tours dedicated by Gregory, to be sanctified by relics of Saturninus, Martin, Illidius and others. One night I kept vigils in the holy church [of St. Martin]; at dawn I went to the oratory and sanctified the altar I had set up. I returned to the church of St. Martin and with the accompaniment of crosses and burning candles formally transferred the holy relics. . . . A large group of clerics and deacons dressed in white was present, as well as the illustrious order of distinguished citizens and a large crowd of people of the next rank. After I lifted and carried the holy relics that were [placed] in wooden coffers and adorned with shrouds, I came to the door of the oratory. As I entered, suddenly a frightening flash filled the room, so that the eyes of the bystanders were closed out of fear and because of the great brightness. The flash, so to speak, flared about through the entire oratory and made me very afraid. No one could know what this was, although everyone was prostrate with fear, and lay on the ground. I said: 'Do not be afraid . . . . Remember the book about the life of the blessed Martin and recall how a ball of fire rose from Martin's head as he recited the sacred words, and how it was seen to ascend al the way to heaven . . . . That earlier miracle was seen by only a few people, but this one appeared to all the people . . . . That earlier miracle was kept secret to avoid ostentation, but this one was made manifest to everyone for glorification'.26

In Gregory's view of wonders there is the clear understanding that they were not necessarily seen by all. Often only the spiritually worthy were allowed to be witnesses. He tells us that one year at the festival of St. Poly carp in Riom, as a deacon carried a vessel holding the unconsecrated host into the church the vessel floated above his hand, and he could not grip it. This happened because he was polluted in his conscience, in Gregory's view; some said he had often committed adultery. Only one priest and three women saw the happening: one of whom was Gregory's mother Armentaria. 'I was present then at the festival', Gregory adds, 'but I was not worthy to see this'.27 Another instance of Gregory's own wonder-blindness was when the holy Salvius of Albi asked Gregory if he could see the naked sword of the wrath of God hanging over King Chilperic's house. 'No', I answered, 'I can see nothing'.28 It was not that Gregory did not have visions himself on occasion. Once, while at dinner in Orleans, he told King Guntram how he had seen a vision of the same 25. Glory of the Martyrs, p. 8; Krusch II, p. 43; transl. Van Dam, p. 29. 26. Glory of the Confessors, p. 20; Krusch II, pp. 309-10, trans. Van Dam, pp. 34-35. There are other stories about this mystical fire at ibid., pp. 37-38. 27. Glory of the Martyrs, p. 85; Krusch II, p. 96, trans. Van Dam, p. 110. 28. Gregory of Tours, Histories, book v, p. 50; Krusch I, p. 263.

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Chilperic, Guntram's late brother, tonsured and sitting of a throne covered in a black cloth, with candles in front of him. If he expected the king to be impressed, he had underestimated the formidable Guntram, who was able to cap this with his vision of brother Chilperic, in hell, with his limbs broken, boiling and melting in a cauldron. 'As the king said all this to our great astonishment, the meal came to an end and we rose from our seats'.29 The question of worthiness operated in other ways as well. A beggar was accustomed to sit on top of the tomb of St. Venerandus: as I myself saw with my own eyes. But I believe that, as human weakness demonstrates, this man was involved in some improper misdeed, because with a loud explosion he was struck by the power of the man lying [in the tomb], and was tossed far away. The tomb split down the middle; still now it can be seen to be cracked. In my opinion the buried man thought that the man who usually sat upon his remains was unworthy of himself.30

Rather less risible, and more common, are stories about the treatment of privately owned relics. For example, one of Gregory's men brought back some wood from St. Martin's bed and kept it in his house. 'His family began to be severely ill — I think [because] this wood was not honoured or respected as was appropriate for it'. In a vision the man was told to look after the relic properly. He brought it to Gregory, who put it in a suitable place; the man's family recovered.31 These various anecdotes are enough to give some flavour of the wonders which Gregory experienced. Many of the problems in dealing with such material will be immediately apparent. If one is merely taking these stories at face value, to what extent is Gregory interpreting natural phenomena or coincidence in terms of divine intervention? What is the influence of the literary models he has in mind, ranging from the Bible to Sulpicius Severus's Life of St. Martin? To what extent is Gregory deliberately interpreting events and happenings in propagandist terms, trying to persuade a very largely sceptical audience of the reality of wonder? The traditional view, of course, is that the credulous Gregory merely reflects his credulous and superstitious age. In fact Gregory often portrays the amazement of the sceptic in the face of a witnessed miracle, and often seems to be trying hard to persuade his readers that the miracles really happened: like his contemporary Pope Gregory the Great, who in his Dialogues says that many Christians in the Italy of his day do not believe in life after death or the resurrection, and are sceptical about the miracle-stories which offer proof of those truths.32 Not infrequently Gregory 29. Gregory of Tours, Histories, viii, p. 5; Krusch I, p. 374. 30. Glory of the Confessors, p. 35; Krusch II, p. 320, transl. Van Dam, p. 49. 31. Wonders of St. Martin, i, p. 35; Krusch II, p. 155, transl. Van Dam. 32. McCready, Signs of Sanctity, esp. pp. 207-11, discusses the sceptics revealed in Gregory I's writings. He argues that although it was customary in hagiography to suggest that disbelief could greet the story of a miracle, stories of scepticism (particularly scepticism concerning a particular miracle, or the claims of a particular saint's cult) have often to be taken at face value.

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of Tours portrays himself as the sceptic in order, arguably, to win over the sympathy of the skeptical reader. For instance, in relation to the miracles which took place in front of the relic of the True Cross in the royal nunnery at Poitiers: Often I heard how even the lamps that were lit in front of these relics bubbled up because of the divine power and dripped so much oil that frequently they filled a vessel underneath. But because of the foolishness of my closed mind I was never motivated to believe these stories until that power which is at present being revealed reproved my slow-witted hesitation.33

He greeted the founder, the aged queen Radegund, and saw a lamp dripping oil onto the ground. He thought it was cracked, and he reproved Abbess Agnes, in proper episcopal style. But then, [I saw the lamp] heaving in great waves like a boiling pot, overflowing in swelling surges throughout that hour and (I believe in order to censure my incredulity) being more and more replenished, so that in the space of one hour the container produced more than four times the oil that it held. Stunned, I was silent, and finally I proclaimed the power of the venerable cross.34

On another occasion a man arrived in Tours with a very old silk robe, claiming that the True Cross had been wrapped in it in Jerusalem. 'Because of my ignorance [rusticitas] this claim seemed outrageous'. Gregory asked the man how he had got the relic, since he knew that dubious-looking people were kept away from the Cross by men with whips. The man said that he had had it from Abbot Futes, a favourite of the Empress Sophia. For some reason this man gave Gregory this enormously valuable relic. What did Gregory do? He washed it and gave the water to people to drink: they were healed. After this successful experiment, he cut off some pieces and gave them to monks, one to an abbot, who later declared under oath that it had healed twelve possessed people, three blind people and two paralytics. He placed a piece in mouth of a mute man and restored his speech.35 This spirit of experiment, indeed of trial and error, is in fact interestingly documented several times in the course of the Wonders: we can sometimes see what lies behind the bald statement in the prologue to the Wonders of St. Martin, book three, when he says simply that each time he had a headache or a fever, pains in the limbs or eye trouble, he was cured by Martin.36 It seems that this resort to Martin or another saint was not always so automatic as that statement might suggest. When Gregory was going to Brioude for a festival one time, a headache began: Gregory rationally ascribes this to having been out in the sun too long. The headache got worse and developed into a fever. 33. 34. 35. 36.

Glory of Glory of Glory of Wonders

the Martyrs, p. 5; Krusch II, p. 40, transl. Van Dam, pp. 23-24. the Martyrs, p. 5; Krusch II, p. 40, transl. Van Dam, pp. 23-24. the Martyrs, p. 5; Krusch II, pp. 41-42, transl. Van Dam, p. 26. of St. Martin, iii, prologue; Krusch II, p. 182.

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But it was only three days later that he sought a saintly cure: he went to Julian's spring (where Julian's head had been washed after his execution and martyrdom), to sprinkle himself with water and to pray. 'Immediately the pain departed'.37 On another occasion, while in Tours, Gregory ate some fish at the dinner-table, after making sign of the cross over it. Despite this precaution, a fishbone stuck in his throat; he could not swallow at all, even saliva. For three days he was in agony, not even being able to cough or spit. After three days he made the journey of about half a mile to Martin's shrine and was cured. I do not know what had become of the troublesome sharp bone. I did not expel it by vomiting, nor did I feel it drop into my stomach. I know only this one fact, that I felt that I had been cured so quickly that I thought someone had used his hand to pull away the obstruction that had lacerated my throat.38

There were other options available, other than waiting to see if the pain would go away, or going to the shrine of a saint: one was going to a doctor. Caesarius of Aries seems to have had considerable respect for doctors: he urged anxious mothers to consult a doctor about the health of their children, lamenting when they did not.39 Doctors appear reasonably frequently in Gregory's works. The royal court had them: King Guntram's only evil deed in Gregory's eyes was yielding to his dying wife's request to kill the doctors if they failed to cure her. Marileif is referred to as the primus medicorum of Chilperic's court, suggesting that there were several.40 From Gregory's writings we know of practising doctors in Tours, Bourges, Langres and Vienne.41 Monasteries had doctors: Reovalis, at the nunnery of the Holy Cross in Poitiers, had been trained in Constantinople itself.42 Almost nothing is known about the training or level of expertise of these doctors. One or two Merovingian medical treatises survive, while Gallo-Roman 37. Wonders of St. Julian, p. 25; Krusch II, p. 125, transl. Van Dam. We may note that cures are adopted according to the illness; he goes out of his way to use water from the spring associated with St. Julian's head, or to touch his head to the veil over Martin's tomb, in order to cure headache; stomach-ache is cured by taking draughts of water and dust into the stomach. 38. Wonders of St. Martin, iii, p. 1; Krusch II, p. 182, transl. Van Dam. 39. Caesarius, sermon 5, translated by Sr. M. M. Mueller, in Saint Caesarius of Aries: Sermons (Washington, 1956), 1, pp. 36-37, and cited by Valerie I. J. Flint, 'The Early Medieval "Medicus", the Saint — and the Enchanter', Social History of Medicine 2 (1989), pp. 127-45, at p. 132. 40. Austrechild's death is recorded in Gregory's Histories, book v, p. 35 (Krusch I, pp. 241-42). For Marileif, see Histories, book v, p. 14 (Krusch I, p. 209) and book vii, p. 25 (Krusch I, p. 344). He had been unfree, in the service of the church, but had clearly made a considerable fortune from his medical practice: these two passages relate to the two occasions on which he was reduced to penury, with all his gold and silver and other possessions being taken from him. 41. Wonders of St. Martin, ii, pp. 1 and 18, and Gregory of Tours, Histories, book v, pp. 5 and 6. 42. Gregory of Tours, Histories, book x, p. 15. For a discussion of these references, and others, see the section on 'Arzte' in M. Weidemann, Kulturgeschichte der Merowingerzeit nach den Werken Gregors von Tours ii (Mainz, 1982), pp. 302-3, and for a discussion of other Merovingian doctors, see Flint, 'The Early Medieval "Medicus'", pp. 131-33.

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medical works were still being copied. It has been thought that Gregory probably had access to them; there are at least twenty-eight technical medical terms in his works, mostly drawn from Greek.43 He describes melancholia fairly precisely, in Galenic terms, and mentions a number of specific herbal cures. He frequently mentions the use of cupping-vessels :44 he says that a priest at St. Martin's in Tours, beaten up by an aristocratic thug, would have died if doctors (sic} had not arrived with ventusae, cupping-vessels. He also says that Leunast, archdeacon of Bourges, saw doctors unsuccessfully for his cataracts.45 This may imply that delicate operations to remove cataracts were still performed, as they had been in Roman times. The recent find of a set of instruments for eye-surgery in the bed of the River Saone at Montbellet (accordingly unfortunately not in an archaeologically datable context) shows the sophistication not only of the available surgery but of the instruments themselves. Three of them in the metal case were handled needles, but two were 'needle syringes comprising a retractable needle within a pointed tube of tiny bore . . . [with which the doctor] could have both broken up the cataract and removed the fragments by suction'.46 There is a catalogue of Roman surgical instruments that have been found in graves of the Roman period,47 but there has been no similar work, to my knowledge on what, if anything, has survived in Merovingian graves.48 It is not unlikely that a good proportion of Roman medical knowledge survived and, as we have seen, expertise might be updated by contacts with Constantinople. Gregory, whose own medical knowledge may not have been inconsiderable, used to frequent doctors or barber-surgeons himself. But there was quite clearly a doubt in his mind about either the value or the propriety of this. Once Gregory's tongue swelled up so that he could hardly speak. He went to the tomb of St. Martin and stuck his tongue between the wooden bars of the balustrade; the swelling went down. It came back again three days later. This time he touched his lip to the hangings and was cured: 'I believe that my pain was due to an abundance of blood, but because of the saint's power I did not wish to reduce my blood'.49 On another occasion he had a very bad headache and touched his head to the veil hanging by or over Martin's tomb. 43. Listed by M. Bonnet, Le latin de Gregoire de Tours (Paris, 1890), pp. 218-20, and see the discussion in P. Riche, Education and Culture in the Barbarian West (Columbia, SC, 1976), pp.205-6. 44. Gregory of Tours, Histories, book vii, p. 22; Krusch I, p. 341. 45. Gregory of Tours, Histories, book v, p. 6; Krusch I, p. 203. 46. R. Jackson, 'Roman Doctors and their Instruments: Recent Research into Ancient Practice'. Journal of Roman Archaeology 3 (1990), pp. 5-27, at p. 8. Jackson's article includes an excellent bibliography of work in this area. The full publication of this find is M. Feugere, E. Kiinzl, and U. Weisser, 'Die Starnadeln von Montbellet (Saone-et-Loire): Ein Beitrag zur antiken und islamischen Augenheilkunde', Jahrbuch der Romisch-Germanisches Museum, Mainz 32 (1985), pp. 436-508. 47. E. Kiinzl, 'Medizinische Instrumente aus Sepulkralfunden der romischen Kaiserzeit', Banner Jahrbucher 182 (1982), pp. 1-131. 48. The fairly crude abdominal hernia trusses made of iron that are found in a number of Merovingian graves are not much of a guide to Merovingian medical expertise. 49. Wonders of St. Martin, iv, p. 2; Krusch II, p. 200, transl. Van Dam.

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The headache got better but the pain returned again three days later. He went to the tomb again: again a cure, but ten days later the headache returned in full force. 'It seemed best to let my blood; but three days after letting my blood I thought that my sufferings were due to my blood, and that they would immediately cease if a vein was at once cut; I think that this idea was inspired by a deceiving [demon]'. Gregory touched his head to the veil again and was finally cured.50 Gregory did not always resist this inner (demon-inspired) urge to go and see a doctor. Only two months after becoming a bishop, while staying in a villa, he was attacked by dysentery, fever and stomach pain. He began to think about how his funeral should be organised. There was a doctor with him, called Armentarius, but nothing he could do was of any use. As a last resort, or so it seems, Gregory drank some water containing dust from St. Martin's tomb (something that Gregory was happy, apparently, to recommend to others at the first sign of illness). By the end of that same day, he was eating again.51 Nearly twenty years later — 'recently', he says in book four of the Wonders of St. Martin, which was probably the last book he finished — he fell prey to another bad stomach-ache. He tried hot baths and bound hot objects to his stomach; natural, common-sensical remedies, one might think, and significantly the first things that occurred to Gregory. After six days of constant pain, 'I remembered that a few years previously I had been healed from this sort of stomach-ache by the saint's power; the written account of this is found in the second book of this work'. He went to the tomb, secretly put a thread from the hangings above the tomb under his clothes and made the sign of the cross with it over his stomach; he was cured by the time he had left the church.52 Gregory liked to tell stories about doctors who failed in their cures and were shown to be inferior as healers to the relics of the saints. We have already seen the failure of Leudast's doctors to cure his cataracts; and the failure of the doctors to cure King Guntram's wife Austrechild, which resulted in their executions — though Gregory is at pains to say that he disapproved of such a procedure. There is the epileptic, who took the remedies offered by doctors but who did not achieve a real cure until he came to the tomb of Nicetius of Lyons;53 and there are the examples in Gregory's own life. As Valerie Flint has shown, doctors appear as 'fall-guys' in other Merovingian literature as well. She points out, however, that 50. Wonders of St. Martin, ii, p. 60; Krusch II, pp. 179-80, transl. Van Dam. 51. Wonders of St. Martin, ii, p. 1; Krusch II, p. 159. 52. Wonders of St. Martin, iv, p. 1; Krusch II, pp. 199-200, transl. Van Dam, referring to ii, p. 1. It may be noted that Wonders of St. Martin, ii, iii and iv all begin (and ii and iii also end) with stories about Gregory's own illnesses and how they were cured by St. Martin, about which Van Dam notes that The timing of [Gregory's] illnesses was not coincidental, since in each case the recovery of his health accompanied a change in his ecclesiastical rank', and suggests that 'Notions of illness and healing provided another powerful idiom with which people could think about and describe their own identities'. 53. Life of the Fathers, viii, p. 8; Krusch II, p. 249.

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the role of fall-guy . . . can only be played by a figure of whose place in the public's attention his manipulator is certain. It is a painful, but at the same time a sure, attestation of social worth. If the hagiographer gives him such a status, then his status as a healer must have been in general high. It may have been . . . higher in fact than that of the saints in the contemporary community. Such a state of affairs would account to some extent for the gloating over the physician's failures.54

It would seem that Gregory had more sympathy with doctors than, in his miracle-stories, he was prepared to admit. Doctor Armentarius, mentioned in the previous paragraph (who failed to cure Gregory's stomach-ache), seems to have been brought with Gregory in his entourage, when he went to Tours as bishop; from his name (like that of Armentaria, Gregory's mother) one might imagine that he was related to Gregory; perhaps he was his personal physician. We have already noted Gregory's own medical knowledge; in some of these stories we have seen him prescribe physical or herbal cures for himself. In that paean of praise to the dust of St. Martin's tomb which I have quoted above, he clearly recognises the efficacy of herbal cures: even though they, unlike the dust, do not 'remove and lighten [the] blemishes of conscience'.55 A virulent plague of blisters that struck the diocese of Tours was best treated by St. Martin, but Gregory's text implies that doctors might be efficacious too: 'The skill of doctors could be of no value for this illness unless the Lord's assistance was present'.56 One of the frequent words of praise which Gregory uses of the saints or the relics of the saints was that they were doctors. For a tumour, 'the usual antidote was to be sought from the true doctor [Martin]'.57 He continued, 'I thank omnipotent God who deigned to provide me with the sort of doctor who cleanses my infirmities, washes away my wounds and bestows effective remedies'.58 Clearly there were at least two possible paths to a cure: the rational, traditional one of medicine, and the equally rational one of divine help. There are also evinced in his writings at least two contemporary — and one might think, if it were not for Evans-Pritchard and modern anthropology, two conflicting — explanations of disease. We have seen that Gregory uses Galenic terminology and may have believed in Galenic explanations of illness; yet illness could also, or at the same time, be a result of the action of demons or a punishment for sin. At a time of bubonic plague, we see a bishop setting up road-blocks to prevent diseased people moving in from the south: a clear sign of the knowledge of the dangers of contact. Yet, there was another reason for bubonic plague. Gregory tells of how, when he went to Brioude at the time of Bishop Cautinus of Clermont, 'the territory of Clermont was devastated by

54. Flint, 'The Early Medieval "Medicus"', p. 136. 55. See above, p. 50 and n. 23. 56. Wonders of St. Martin, iii, p. 34; Krusch II, p. 190. 57. Wonders of St. Martin, ii, p. 52; Krusch II, p. 177. 58. Wonders of St. Martin, iii, preface; Krusch II, p. 182.

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a ruinous plague that the people call the plague of the groin . . . because the people's sins were excessive'.59 Secular doctors had no remedies against the excessive sins of their patients, even if their methods could be effective with some illnesses. When the bubonic plague hit Clermont, one of Gregory's servants fell ill. The other servants did not send for Gregory, nor even a doctor, but a hariolus, a soothsayer, shaman or enchanter, who cast lots, hung amulets on the patient, and so on. This was a third avenue to health, but clearly not a valid option in Gregory's eyes: he was furious when he found out and no doubt felt his case was made when the young man died. When another servant fell ill, Gregory got his men to fetch some dust from Julian's tomb and he was cured.60 If Gregory regarded doctors as uncertain, these folk-healers were positively dangerous.61 Contemporary church councils, and writers like Caesarius or Eligius, frequently condemned this illicit form of medicine, particularly the use of ligatures and amulets.62 But, as Professor Flint has recently pointed out, there may actually be little difference between what the cleric and the folk-healer actually does. Gregory describes how St. Monegundis cured a boy who had been made ill after drinking an evil magic potion. She stroked his stomach until she found the affected spot, then she 'took the green leaf of a vine, moistened it with saliva, made the sign of a cross on it, and put it on the stomach of the boy'.63 'But for the accepted status of the saint and (perhaps) the sign of the cross, such a process would have been hard to distinguish from the binding on of an herbal cure by a wise woman'.64 Gregory wants to make distinctions between the three different kinds of cure available, but his texts show that there are considerable areas of overlap. Nor was this anything new. Although Pliny the Elder had contrasted magic and medicine in his discussion of healing, condemning the former, not a few of the legitimate remedies he described are, to us, indistinguishable from magic. The idea that divine help may well be better than entrusting oneself to doctors was also present in the ancient world. In the diaries of Rome's greatest hypochondriac, Aelius Aristides, we are told how, in one instance, the saviour (the god Asclepius) told him to avoid doctors and to trust to the god: he was cured, to the amazement (and no doubt annoyance) of the doctors.65 What is most striking about some of the cases which we have seen is Gregory's willingness to experiment. There is another nice example of this 59. Wonders of St. Julian, 46a; Krusch II, p. 132. 60. Wonders of St. Julian, 46a; Krusch II, p. 132. 61. On the complex interactions between saint, doctor and enchanter, see the excellent discussion in Flint, The Early Medieval "Medicus"', esp. pp. 140-45. 62. See Flint, The Rise of Magic, pp. 240-53. 63. Life of the Fathers, xix, p. 3; Krusch II, p. 289, transl. James, p. 128. Flint comments in The Rise of Magic, p. 302, n. 132, 'the translation offered by James . . . does not, I think, quite convey the air of active magic against which the saint contended here'. 64. Ibid., p. 303. 65. Quoted in R. Jackson, Doctors and Diseases in the Roman Empire (London, 1988), p. 138.

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from the second year of King Sigibert, that is, when Gregory was about twenty-four years old. Gregory fell ill, with oozing sores and fever; he could not eat or drink. He began to think about how his funeral should be organised (again). He invoked St. Martin and he recovered a little, enough for him to plan to visit the tomb. After two or three stops on the way, he fell ill again; he insisted on continuing, despite the advice of his companions, who were themselves feeling ill. Gregory prayed again, for his health and that of his companions, and felt better immediately after prayer. One of his clerics, Armentarius (the doctor we met above?), ill to the point of losing his mind, came to him fully recovered that same morning. 'Forty days later I drank wine with pleasure'. (A true Frenchman!) He eventually brought back three candles from the tomb of St. Martin, as if to see what they would do. First of all he tried giving pieces from them to the ill; he found it cured many of them. As a second interesting experiment he put some candle wax on some of the vines in 'one of our vineyards', and discovered that it stopped frost attacking them.66 Gregory was never averse to trying something new. When he visited the moss-covered tomb of St. Tranquillus in Dijon, he tried stroking the painful blisters and sores on his hands with the moss; he was cured.67 He discovered that splinters from the old wooden church of Saint-Medard of Soissons, used as toothpicks, cured toothache; he had the wooden staff that had once belonged to St. Medard in his possession, and used to hand out splinters to the afflicted.68 He discovered that threads from the napkin worn by his great-uncle St. Nicetius of Lyons on the day of his death cured the blind.69 When he was at Dijon he found many people pouring wine and cider into the depressions on top of the stone to which Benignus's feet had been (so Gregory believed) affixed with molten lead by pagan torturers. 'Then, once eyes afflicted with inflammation or some other sores are soaked, immediately the illness leaves and they are healed. I certainly experienced this. For when my eyes were severely inflamed I was touched with this holy ointment and immediately lost the pain'.70 Bringing this experimentation even more in line with the early fumbling experiments of the Royal Society in Restoration England, and showing, if Gregory is to be believed, that the attitude was not Gregory's alone, is an anecdote Gregory preserves in his Wonders of St. Martin. The messengers of King Chararic in Galicia come to the shrine of St. Martin in Tours for some relics of the saint. To be certain that they were not being short-changed, the messengers weighed a piece of silk cloak, placing it on the tomb of the saint overnight. In the morning they weighed it again: 'so much favour from the blessed man had been soaked into these relics that for a long time they raised the bronze weight in the air as far as the scale could have [leeway] to ascend'.71 66. Wonders of St. Martin, i, p. 32-34; Krusch II, p. 153-55. 67. Glory of the Confessors, p. 43; Krusch II, p. 324-25. 68. Glory of the Confessors, p. 93; Krusch II, p. 358. 69. Life of the Fathers, viii, p. 8; Krusch II, p. 248. 70. Glory of the Martyrs, p. 50; Krusch II, p. 72, transl. Van Dam, p. 76. 71. Wonders of St. Martin, i, p. 11; Krusch II, p. 145, transl. Van Dam.

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To explain such experiences and beliefs in terms of credulity and superstition — that subjective, meaningless word which ought never to leave the historian's word-processor except ironically — is clearly no help at all. To use such anecdotes as examples of Gregory's naivety and simple-mindedness, as has been done by both Catholic and Protestant commentators, is also grossly unhistorical. As can now be seen, thanks to historians like Walter Goffart who have studied Gregory's History with care, Gregory was an intelligent and skilled man, who knew exactly what he was doing and had a clear view of the secular world. In his History he is constantly opposing the brutal, immoral and evil world of kings, aristocrats and peasants with the serenity and goodness to be found in God and in God's natural creation. The dividing line was between the world of God and the world of man, not between natural and supernatural, a distinction that was only really developed in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. The growth of a seed into a tree and the movement of stars were great wonders, miracles worked every day by God; the removal of a headache by contact with a relic was equally inexplicable to Gregory, but clearly belonged to the same category of phenomena. He could not explain it but it frequently worked (and he had explanations for occasions when it did not). Gregory knew that contemporary doctors had a different explanation for illness and the workings of the human body; he also knew that their cures frequently did not work, whereas his own often did. 'Gregory of Tours administers tomb-dust in water rather as we do aspirin, and with a seemingly higher rate of success'.72 Whether one wants to explain that by the placebo effect, by faulty statistics or by supernatural power is hardly important. What is clear is that Gregory's view of the world was not that of a credulous believer in tradition, but of a careful observer of the natural world who tried to put his observations together into a rational and consistent view of the universe. In short, his attitude was a scientific or, at the very least, a proto-scientific one.

72. Flint, 'The Early Medieval "Medicus"', p. 137.

4

Magic and Marriage in Ninth-Century Francia: Lothar, Hincmar — and Susanna Valerie I.J. Flint

The Lothar Crystal is, both literally and figuratively, one of the finest jewels in the British Museum's collection.1 A lenticular rock-crystal, measuring some four and a half inches in diameter, and now set in a much later copper-gilt mount,2 it is so named from the fact that around its central medallion it carries an inscription: 'Lotharius rex Franc[orum me fjieri jussit' ('Lothar king of the Franks ordered me to be made').3 The crystal is, in addition, embellished with eight scenes, engraved in intaglio and placed clockwise round the circle of the crystal, ending in the central medallion. The orientation of the engravings, cut in reverse, and so meant to be seen from the unengraved side, shows that the object was intended to be viewed vertically. It may, then, have been designed to be worn perhaps on a chain around the neck, or to be set upon or in an object, perhaps a book-cover. The engraving is of the highest order, and all of the scenes are vivid and of an intense beauty. All are also biblical, being taken from the Story of Susanna, a tale attached (as c. 13) to the Vulgate Book of Daniel.4 The story in the Book of Daniel tells how Susanna, the beautiful wife of the wealthy Jewish citizen of Babylon, Joachim, was accosted by two elders and judges of the Jewish community as she went out to bathe alone in her garden one summer's day. The two elders had long lusted after her, and were waiting for her there. Susanna, however, resisted their attempts to seduce her, whereupon, in revenge and frustration, they accused her before her servants and her whole household of adultery with a young man in that same garden.

1. Inventory number M&LA 55, 12-1, 5, catalogue number 559. 2. P. Schramm and F. Mutherich, Denkmale der deutschen Konigc und Kaiser: ein Beitrag zur Herrschergechichte von Karl dem Grossen bis Friedrich II, 768—1250 (Munich, 1962), p. 126. 3. The inscription was reconstructed by E. Martene and U. Durand, Voyage litteraire de deux religieux Benedictins (Paris, 1724), p. 132. 4. Chapter 13 of the Book of Daniel has apocryphal, or deutero-canonical, status now, being translated by Jerome from a version apparently by Theodotion, not from the Septuagint. It does not appear in the Hebrew Bible. In the early middle ages it was, however, accepted as canonical on Jerome's authority.

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She was tried, found guilty, and condemned to death; but, as she was being led to her execution, God raised up the young Prophet Daniel to prove her innocence. Daniel managed to persuade the company to try Susanna a second time. He then used the well-known detective expedient of questioning the elders separately. Their accounts of the events proved inconsistent one with the other, one declaring that he had seen the adulterous act committed beneath a mastic tree, the second, beneath a holm-oak. The two elders were convicted instead, therefore, of false-witness, and were condemned to death. The first scene on the crystal, at the top and headed by the inscription csurrexer[unt] senes' (Daniel 13:19), depicts Susanna ('S[an]c[t]a Susan[n]a') in her garden (with, seemingly, her bottles of soap and bath-oil), together with the two elders and the servants — the latter vainly trying to climb back in to the locked garden (Daniel 13:20, 26). The second shows the elders sending for Susanna so that she may be accused before her household, and the third the judgement, with Susanna looking up to the heavens for help in accordance with Daniel 13:35. The fourth scene depicts Susanna being lead away to her execution, and the fifth and sixth the interventions of Daniel and his revelation that the elders had lied. The seventh scene shows (vividly) the stoning to death of the two elders, and the last, enclosed in the central medallion and encircled by the Lothar inscription, appears to portray the vindication of Susanna's innocence by a judge of some kind, sitting upon a throne. The inscription refers to Daniel 13:62: 'Et salvatus est sanguis innoxius in die ilia' ['And innocent blood was saved in that day']. Although we might with good reason infer from this scene that Susanna was publicly acquitted, the Vulgate nowhere explicitly tells us that this was so. This central medallion, then, gives the public acquittal of the heroine a far greater emphasis than a strict interpretation of the biblical text would allow. There are two candidates for the Lothar of the inscription; the Carolingian King Lothar I (795-855) and his son King Lothar II (835-69). The majority of those who have discussed the crystal, including the most recent and the most thorough of the many writings upon it (and one to which I am here deeply indebted, the thesis of Dr. Genevra Kornbluth), find firmly in favour of the latter. The King Lothar who commissioned the crystal is King Lothar II who reigned in Central Francia (an area focusing upon Aachen, and later known, after the same king, as Lotharingia) between the years 855 and 869.5 We might now consider, therefore, that that particular problem is solved. The case is otherwise, however, with the exact purpose of the scenes that were engraved upon the crystal, and so with the mid ninth-century place and purpose of the Lothar crystal itself. Here large questions still remain to be answered. Though art historians have long appreciated its importance

5. G. Kornbluth, 'Carolingian Treasure: Engraved Gems of the Ninth and Tenth Centuries' (unpublished Ph.D. thesis, University of North Carolina, Chapel Hill, 1986), pp. 37-38. The thesis is, sadly, unpublished at the time of writing; and I am grateful to the Department of Medieval and Late Antiquitites at the British Museum for drawing it to my attention.

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as an art treasure, the Lothar crystal has received surprisingly little attention either from historians of early medieval Europe or from advocates of women's history; yet, in its early date and evident value, in the care and quality of the craftsmanship which went into its making, and, most especially, in the theme with which it is preoccupied — that of the wronged yet righteous woman — it is an object of the first interest to both. This essay is an effort to try to uncover a little of this interest. I shall return in the first instance to an account of the form and function of this crystal which was offered in outline many years ago, but which has not since gained full acceptance. I shall return to this account because it is now possible, I think, both to defend it by adding more substance to it, and to extend it in exciting ways. The selection of a rock-crystal as a vehicle for scenes engraved from the biblical Story of Susanna, and the choice of the story and of certain of the scenes themselves, are, I shall argue, choices of great significance both for the ninth century and for us. In the first place, we have in the Lothar crystal one further indication of the attitude of the early medieval Christian church to magic. The crystal is yet one more demonstration of the willingness of sections of that church to turn upon its oponents their own weapons: to fight magic, that is, with Christian counter-magic. The ninth-century Prankish Christian church chose, in the crystal, a magical means of defending women, moreover, and at a time when in fact magic posed one of the most serious of all threats to women who were married in accordance with the developing dictates of that church. The crystal was commissioned (and perhaps even worn) in public support of the rights of one ninth-century Christian married woman in particular and, through her, in vindication of the rights at law of Christian married women in general. This was at a time when these rights were imperilled in an especially spectacular way. The Lothar crystal is, then, in the second and most important place, a precious, and perhaps unique, piece of material evidence for the ninth-century Prankish Christian church's care for the rights of women. It might show also that on occasion this care worked. As long ago as 1908, in a short notice to the Societe Nationale des Antiquaires de France, Dr. P. Lauer drew attention to certain features of the scenes engraved upon the crystal.6 He noted that three of the eight scenes focused purely upon the arrest and unjust treatment of Susanna herself. He remarked too upon the energy with which the fate of the two elders is depicted in the scene which represents their death, and upon the particular stress of the central medallion, the medallion surrounded by the inscription naming King Lothar. He described this medallion as 'une sorte d'apotheose de 1'innocence de Suzanne'.7 Lauer pointed also to the similarity between the throne upon which the object of Susanna's orations sat (he presumes that this object is the Prophet Daniel) and contemporary depictions of Carolingian kings on their thrones. The emphasis 6. Ph. Lauer, 'Le joyau Carolingienne de Waulsort-sur-Meuse', Bulletin de la Societe Nationale des Antiquaires de France (1908), pp. 102-7. 7. Ibid., p. 103.

The Lothar Crystal (British Museum]

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upon Susanna, in the three scenes picked out by Lauer, is certainly untrue to the balance of the biblical text and seems unfairly to diminish the parts played by other characters in the biblical story. The Prophet Daniel, for instance, is quite upstaged. The depiction in the central medallion of Susanna, standing upright and apparently addressing the seated figure with some considerable vehemence, is one of the best medieval portrayals of an assertive woman we have. At this point in his brief notice, Lauer moved on to make his crucial suggestion. He proposed that the engravings on the crystal might have reference to the attempted divorce betwen King Lothar II and his wife Theutberga. The outlines of this story, thanks largely to Archbishop Hincmar of Rheims (845-82), the king's redoubtable opponent in this attempted divorce, are well known; but we shall recall them here.8 King Lothar II of central Francia was, from 857 until his death, involved in a divorce case sensational enough for the tabloid press.9 Lothar had married his wife Theutberga shortly after the death of his own father in 855, with an eye, it seems, to the acquisition of control over the alpine passes (Theutberga's brother ruled an area coterminous with the greater part of modern Switzerland) and the provision of a legitimate heir. Theutberga, however, was childless. Therefore Lothar proposed in 857 to divorce her and to marry his mistress of long standing, Walburga, by whom he already had a son.10 Lothar had the support of two powerful Prankish churchmen for his plans, Archbishop Gunther of Cologne and Archbishop Theutgard of Trier. It is not easy to reconstruct the state of the law that prevailed in Central Francia at the time of King Lothar, but certain forms of barbarian secular law do seem to have allowed the divorce and remarriage (under certain conditions) of both male and female partners to a marriage. They might divorce on grounds of adultery, or witchcraft, or the violation of graves (the latter might have reference to necromancy, and so to witchcraft again), or homicide.11 Such laws were harsh, however, upon the divorced partner. If convicted of homicide or witchcraft or adultery, the penalty could be death or, at the very least, loss of all claims to the marital property (including, perhaps, the dowry).12 Ecclesiastical law allowed only for separation, not divorce, and neither separated party might remarry whilst the other was alive. The only 8. The main events are retailed in Hincmar's own De divortio Lotbarii et Tetburgae, in PL, vol. 125, pp. 619-772. 9. Lauer, in 'Le joyau', (p. 103), describes the attempted divorce as 'un des evenements capitaux de la politique europeenne dans la seconde moitie du ixe siecle'. There is a clear discussion of some of these events, complete with earlier bibliography, in P. R. McKeon, Hincmar of Laon and Carolingian Politics (Urbana, II, 1978), pp. 39-56. 10. Walburga had been Lothar's mistress while the latter's father was still alive, seemingly with his connivance. 11. For example, Leges Burgundionum xxxiv, 2, (Lex Romana), xxi, 3, in MGH: Leges Nationum Germanicarum, ii, 1; Leges Burgundionum, ed. L. R. de Salis (Hanover, 1892), pp. 68 and 144. 12. According to the Laws of the Visigoths, accusations of veneficium, maleficium and adulterium could certainly result in a sentence of death; Recc. Erv. Chind., vi, 1, 6, MGH: Legum 1, Leges Visigotborum, ed. K. Zeumer (Hanover and Leipsig, 1902), p. 255.

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means by which a couple could part and form another union within the Christian church lay in declaring the original marriage no marriage after all. Two conditions only might bring about this declaration; irremediable impotence and 'marriage' within the prohibited degrees (often termed, and equated with, incest).13 Archbishop Gunther of Cologne was quick to act on Lothar's behalf under the second heading. Theutberga was accused of incestuous relations with her brother Hubert. It was even alleged that she had become pregnant by him and had been made sterile by an abortion. Though her champion had proved her innocent by undergoing the ordeal of boiling water for her, Gunther still persuaded Theutberga to confess to these crimes.14 Archbishop Hincmar, however, entering the fray with a vengeance in 860 (when, it seems, he began to write his De divortio}, declared such a confession invalid as a means of inititating an annulment suit. For one thing, confession was secret, and such pleas at ecclesiastical law had to be made publicly. For another, this particular secrecy smacked of undue pressure and duress, whereas confession should be for the relief of souls; and for still a third, the public ordeal had allowed Theutberga's champion to emerge incoctus, proving her innocence at a form of supernatural trial of which Hincmar approved.15 The case was then referred to Pope Nicholas I. This pope (the same who was to write so fiercely to the Bulgars about the Christian marriage) stood firm against Lothar's claim to an annulment, deposing Archbishops Gunther and Theutgard for their connivance with him. Lothar was forced publicly to restore Theutberga to her former position as queen, to recognise her innocence and to make restitution in the form of gifts. Restoration was made, the gifts being presented at the royal villa at Venderesse in 865.16 After Nicholas's death in 867 the case was referred again by Lothar to Pope Hadrian II. Despite a certain apparent softening on this pope's part, the two deposed archbishops were never reinstated, and Lothar was never allowed to have his marriage to Theutberga dissolved. He died, in 869, still without a legitimate heir. He did, however, in the later years 13. We owe our knowledge of the contemporary ecclesiastical law on marriage largely to Archbishop Hincmar's passionate involvement in this case. He speaks of these laws both in the De divortio (especially in cc. iv, v and xix) and in his De nuptiis Stephani et Filiae Regimundi comitis, PL, vol. 126, pp. 132-53. Hincmar's views on marriage, including those on the affair of Lothar and Theutberga, (summarised on pp. 386-96), are thoroughly discussed in J. Devisse, Hincmar, archeveque de Reims, 845-882, i (Paris, 1973), pp. 367-466; hereafter cited as Hincmar. He had manifested his concern in the very first year of his pontificate, forcing a vassal of King Lothar I to take back his repudiated wife and do penance, about which see ibid., pp. 36-40. 14. Gunther, it should be noted, did not carry all of his fellows with him. At a council held at Aachen in early January 860 Theutberga's confession was not accepted and the case adjourned to a second council, for which see De divortio, c. i, pp. 629-32. 15. Hincmar devotes the first two chapters of his De divortio to the consideration of these questions, PL, vol. 125, pp. 629-45. This section may, in fact, have been added to the De divortio a little later, as a dossier du divorce, Hincmar i, p. 389. Hincmar's approval of the ordeal is spelt out in his De divortio, c. vi, p. 659. 16. R. Parisot, Le Royaume de Lorraine sous les Carolingiens, 843-923 (Paris, 1899), pp. 277-80.

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of the struggle, return to his mistress Walburga. This last event is of great importance to the argument I wish here to advance. The possible connection between the crystal and this sad story may now perhaps have become clear. Susanna is of course Theutberga, and Lothar the hapless Joachim (more than a little miscast). The two dishonest and conniving archbishops, Gunther and Theutgard, are the two elders, disgraced at law as the two elders were. Lauer concludes that the Lothar crystal was actually commissioned by King Lothar II, being one of the gifts he made in restitution to his wife Theutberga at Venderesse in 865. The early arrival of the crystal at the abbey of Waulsort, near Namur (where it was to be found by the mid tenth century), may be explained by the connections of Theutberga and her family with the founding family of the abbey.17 Dr. Kornbluth is, in the thesis to which I have referred above, unconvinced by Lauer's argument.18 She rightly extends the discussion, and in passages filled with information and interest points to the larger implications of the Susanna story, and to the many other ends for which this story could be employed in late antiquity and the early middle ages. Sometimes, to those who had reason to illustrate or refer to Daniel 13, Susanna might be taken allegorically to represent the persecuted Christian church. Sometimes, conversely, she might be the figure of chastity, a representation understandably much to the tastes of such as St. Ambrose and St. Augustine.19 Then again, Susanna might become the living embodiment of justice rightly done. As a result of this extension of her inquiry and of her careful examination of the individual scenes upon the crystal, Dr. Kornbluth dismisses all thought that the Susanna on the crystal could represent ecclesia or chastity. She decides instead upon justice rightly done. Thus she rejects Lauer's suggestion. According to this thesis, the Susanna cycle is engraved upon the Lothar crystal less to illustrate the tale of the righteous woman wronged than the benefit of just judgement for the righteous in general: 'the crystal probably functioned as royal propaganda, attributing to Lothar the kingly virtue of just judgement'.20 This interpretation is an interesting one, and the comparative material Dr. Kornbluth advances in support of it is collected from an impressive variety of sources; but it is not, I think, convincing. First, why should Lothar choose the Story of Susanna to illustrate the kingly virtue of just judgement? No kings appear in the story, and there are, after all, far better illustrations of royal just judgement to be found in the Bible, not least in the person of King Solomon. Second, even if we accept the 'just judgement' solution, Susanna is a far better example of ecclesiastical just judgement than of royal. She is not, then, an obvious emblem for Lothar to take to himself, nor, given precisely

17. Lauer, 'Le joyau', pp. 104-7. 18. The historical context of the crystal is discussed in detail in Kornbluth, Carolingian Treasure, pp. 278-80. 19. Ibid., pp. 292-93. 20. Ibid., p. 302.

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those marital entanglements we have just reviewed, was the image of Susanna exactly a propitious or diplomatic one for King Lothar to wish to invoke. Third, Dr. Kornbluth's interpretation passes too quickly over two aspects of the crystal which are highly relevant to that jewel's immediate history — one, indeed, of her own discovery. The Susanna cycle on the crystal seems to have been constructed quite independently of all other known cycles.21 The Lothar crystal is a 'new ninth-century creation . . . probably assembled and completed in the ninth century presumably for contemporary reasons', and based not upon other models, but directly upon the Vulgate.22 The biblical element is, in other words, a distinguishing feature of this illustrated Susanna cycle. There is also the matter of the choice of rock-crystal as a vehicle for this particular Vulgate story. The story is nowhere else found on rock-crystal, and rock-crystal is a magical substance. Pliny had described magical crystal amulets,23 and such amulets are found in Prankish graves.24 If it was indeed designed to hang around the neck, the Lothar crystal also took the form of a magical amulet — but, in that it carried engravings based directly upon the Bible, it was a magical amulet of a powerfully Christian kind. It was an amulet of the order of Christian reliquary amulets,25 but one which bore this time not holy relics but words and persons drawn from the Holy Book itself. In all of this we are far from the known preferences of Lothar and far, too, from the realm of the abstract virtue of justitia. The Lothar crystal takes us instead into a world filled with magical influences, both Christian and non-Christian. Dr. Kornbluth's rejection of Lauer's interpretation of the Lothar crystal overlooks, finally, a particularly crucial aspect of the period within which the jewel was made. There brooded over the whole reign of Lothar, and beyond it, the commanding figure of Archbishop Hincmar of Rheims, as we have to some extent already seen. Archbishop Hincmar is an especially important figure in the history of magic and witchcraft. It is to his same treatise, De divortio Lotharii et Tethurgae that we owe some of our earliest direct information about the medieval practice of witchcraft. Hincmar was peculiarly interested, too, both in the biblical Story of Susanna and in the defence of the rights of women, especially of the rights of Christian married women. Hincmar was, above all, concerned for the effect of magic on these rights. The archbishop is important to the history of witchcraft because he seems genuinely to have believed both that witchcraft existed and that it was capable of producing the most dramatic and deleterious of effects. Hincmar describes the activities of ninth-century Prankish witches in a famous passage in the De 21. Ibid., pp. 278-88. 22. Ibid., p. 290. 23. See Pliny, Natural History, xxxvii, p. xi, in D. Eichholz, ed., Pliny, 10 Loeb Classical Library (London and Harvard, 1971), pp. 264-67. 24. On these see H. Hinz, 'Am langen Bande getragene Bergkristallanhanger der Merowingerzeit', Jahrhttch des Romisch-Germanischen Zentralmuseums Mainz 13 (1966), pp. 212-30. 25. Charlemagne had a crystal reliquary amulet, enclosing portions of the True Cross and a lock of the hair of the Virgin Mary, for which see P. E. Schramm, 'Der "Talisman" Karls der Grossen', in ibid., Herrschaftzeichen and Staatsymbolik, i (Stuttgart, 1954), pp. 309-11.

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divortio, c. xv, with an energy which betokens passionate involvement.26 He certainly borrows the bulk of this description from a more famous one in the Etymologies of Archbishop Isidore of Seville, a passage which became standard for those who would describe and inveigh against witchcraft in the middle ages;27 but Hincmar adds to it activities he has clearly observed himself, such as those of predicting the future from the livers or shoulder-blades of animals (scapulomancy), spells cast whilst weaving, and measuring and juggling magic. Witches conjure, he tells us, with bones, and coals, and ashes, and with hair from heads or genitals. They use snakes, and snail shells, and herbs, and threads, and mystically coloured clothes, and mysterious incantations. They perform shape-shifts and inflict on themselves and others drink- or druginduced trances. Witches of this kind were, on this evidence, both real and plentiful in ninth-century Francia. Hincmar is also markedly explicit (and again, I think, original) when in the same treatise De divortio, he treats of spells cast by female witches to procure impotence in a hapless married man. He tells of how, in his very own archiepiscopal see, a marriage had been arranged by a bride's father in defiance of the wishes of her mother, whereupon the mother-in-law cast a spell upon the unhappy groom which rendered him impotent for two whole years.28 The question of whether hostile women could ruin the sexual relations of man and wife by spells had in fact provoked the whole discussion, in c. xv of the De divortio, of the power of witches. Hincmar was in no doubt that they could. Moreover, he evidently suspects Walburga of exercising magical powers of this sort upon Lothar, in order to break his union with Theutberga. Impotence spells were a speciality of adulteresses. They used them to enchant the married man away from the marital couch. Hincmar also had cures for such spells. The hostile mother-in-law's spells, for instance, were quite broken when the local bishop administered medirinam ecclesiasticam and refused to dissolve the marriage.29 We learn from a later part of the De divortio and from Hincmar's other treatise on marriage, the De nuptiis Stephani etfiliae Regimundi comitis, what that ecclesiastical medicine was. It was confession and exorcism, and the application of blessed oil and salt, expelling the wicked demons which assisted the maleficent magic. Above all, it was insistence upon the supernatural binding power of Christian marriage. It was, in short, a form of ecclesiastical counter-magic. I have argued elsewhere that the binding knot of the Christian marriage bond, as described in Matthew 19:6 and Mark 10:9, has about it something of the pre- and non-Christian magical knot, or defixio. I have suggested too that Hincmar's powerful defence of Christian marriage may have been advanced in 26. PL, vol. 125, pp. 717-19. 27. Isidore of Seville, Isidori Hispalensis Episcopi Etymologiarum sive Originum, Libri XX, ed. W. M. Lindsay (Oxford, 1911), VIII:ix, a work not paginated. 28. De divortio, c. xv. PL, vol. 125, p. 717. 29. De divortio, c. xv. PL, vol. 125, p. 725 and De nuptiis, PL, vol. 126, p. 151. This latter passage provides further evidence of Hincmar's belief that witches could indeed inflict impotence on a man.

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part to protect married women against the magic of their enemies, especially would-be adulteresses, or adulteresses in fact. Marriage was an essential part of that ecclesiastical medicine that might defeat the maleficent aims of such witches. The strong knot of marriage, together with this medicine, would indeed always overcome the remediable impotence inflicted by spells. Thus, such impotence could never give ground for annulment.30 Hincmar's defence of the legal and 'magical' binding power of Christian marriage takes on a special significance within the context of Lothar's case against Theutberga. Lothar's attempt to procure a divorce from Theutberga would, on this argument, be defeated on both grounds; 'incest' could not be proved at law and impotence, should it be inflicted by such as Walburga, would never be irremediable. Ecclesiastical marriage, properly upheld by the appropriate use of law, and 'ecclesiastical medicine', is proof against all attacks, whether quasi-legal or magical. Hincmar defends the rights of married woman at canon law because canon law and medicina ecclesiastica are among their few defences against wrongful divorce — and magic. The Lothar crystal too, we might remark, defends its wearer doubly in this way: as a crystal amulet it is an effective talisman against spells; and in the story which it bears it drives home beyond all doubting the church's rulings on the rights of married women to justice at law. Lastly, Hincmar manifests an interest in the Story of Susanna at several places in his writings. Lauer pointed to one of the moments at which he mentions the Story in the De divortio,31 but I have found three others in the De divortio alone32 and references to the Story too in Hincmar's Capitula^ his De presbyteris criminosis,34 his De coercendo et extirpando raptu viduarum puellarum ac sanctimonialium?5 and in his letter about the submission of priests to judgement, written (perhaps shortly after 866) to Bishop John of Cambrai.36 When Hincmar draws attention to the Story of Susanna he does emphasise, it is true, the judicial aspects of the story;37 but rights and wrongs at law are, after all, a part of what the story is about. In the De divortio and the De coercendo, however, it is certainly the rights of women at law that he is concerned to defend, and, in the De divortio, the wrongful use of this same law by Theutberga's accusers that he is anxious to expose. A woman must cry out and claim her legal rights if an attempt is made to rape her, says Hincmar in the De coercendo, just as Susanna rightly did in the garden. In the De divortio Hincmar seems actively to equate the two elders with priests who act wrongly at law: 30. V. I. J. Flint, The Rise of Magic in Early Medieval Europe (Oxford, 1991), pp. 290-97. 31. Lauer, 'Le joyau', p. 104, and see De divortio, c. xxi, PL, vol. 125, p. 738. 32. Ibid., cc. v, x, xi, PL, vol. 125, pp. 658, 685, 687. 33. Ibid., cc. xxii, xxv, PL, vol. 125, pp. 784, 785. 34. Ibid., c. xiii, PL, vol. 125, p. 1099. 35. Ibid., cc. v, viii, PL, vol. 125, pp. 1021, 1023. 36. Letter xxxiv, PL, vol. 126, p. 254. 37. Thus Kornbluth, 'Carolingian Treasure', pp. 294-96. Dr. Kornbluth cites all of the references mentioned above save two of the three extra ones in the De divortio cc. x and xi and the one in the De presbyteris criminosis.

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Exaudivit autem Domunus vocem ejus, et reddidit presbyteris, qui erant constituti judices populi in anno illo, et falsum tulerunt testimonium, juxta quod malum egerant erga proximum, qui interfecti sunt. [The Lord listened to her cry, and gave to the priests who were, at that time, constituted judges over the people, their due. They gave false witness, because they bore evil in their hearts towards their neighbour; and so, they were killed.]38

At that period, Hincmar points out with trenchant clarity, such false judgepriests were actually condemned to death. In the subsequent chapter he inveighs once more agains the secrecy with which the alleged confession was extorted from Theutberga: sed unde publice debet judicari, publice et in praesenti positus debet aut convinci aut confiteri . . . . Quern etiam ordinem judicandi demonstrat scriptura divina . . . . [In a case which requires public judgement, the accused should be convicted or should confess publicly . . . . Holy Scripture shows that this is the way in which judgement should be done.]39

At this point Hincmar inserts a reference to Daniel 13:29-30, the account of the summoning of Joachim's whole household to the trial, and remarks, once again, upon Daniel 13:41, the condemnation of the false witnesses to death. Here the parallels between Hincmar's intentions toward Archbishops Gunther and Theutgard and the effects of the intervention of Daniel become especially clear. Gunther and Theutgard had been wholly wrong to proceed against Theutberga on ground of private confession and, in another age, they would have met their deaths as a result. Theutberga requires a Daniel to defend her now. Perhaps, in Hincmar, she has one. In the preceding paragraphs, I have attempted to dissociate the portrayal of Susanna on the Lothar crystal from all that we know of Lothar's personal ambitions. I have begun to suggest, indeed, that Susanna may have been the antithesis of some of these; and I have started to single out Lothar's outspoken opponent, Archbishop Hincmar, with his known interest in both magic and the rights of married women, as the directive force behind the particular form taken by that Susanna cycle which is represented on the crystal. This brings me to the final, and arguably the most controversial, suggestion to be made in this essay: that both the form and function of the Lothar crystal were actually prescribed by Archbishop Hincmar himself. Lothar, as the inscription attests, ordered the actual making and, we may presume, paid for it; but Lothar was himself under orders, by the church, to make symbolic 38. De divortio, c. x, PL, vol. 125, p. 685. 39. De divortio, c. xi, PL, vol. 125, p. 687.

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gifts of restitution to Theutberga in 865. Archbishop Hincmar was, then, in a perfect position to prescribe the symbolic scenes to be depicted upon one of the more important and valuable of the gifts. He was at the meeting in 865 and Rheims had, furthermore, a property at Venderesse.40 Hincmar valued crystal and seemingly had a crystal engraved with the crucifixion set into the centre of the high altar of the church of Notre Dame at Rheims.41 Hincmar's larger, and connected, interest in imagery such as that on the crystal has already been discussed. Hincmar, I would propose, decreed the engraving of the Story of Susanna as we see it on the crystal, and had Lothar actually present the engraved crystal to Theutberga; and he had the crystal so engraved not as an example of the just judgement claimed by Lothar and prevalent in his reign but in reproach for the lack of it. Hincmar, we know, saw princes as public figures with a duty to uphold public morality. He does not mince his words on the matter. Few things are worse than a prince who behaves badly for all to see, as he declares: melius profecto tali fuerat, ut in vita privata degeret, quam in principatu positus se imitabilem in culpa caeteris demonstraret, et pro tantis poenas lueret, quantis quasi licite peccans, suo exemplo ad vitia dux et auctor erroris existit. Cuius tanto est culpa gravior, et erit cruciatio durior, quando excendenti est facultas liberior. Quia nemo amplius delinquit in populis, quam qui perverse agens ordinem principatus usurpat. [It would be far better for such a person to retire to private life than, as a prince, to present himself as a model of shame for others, and then have to pay a penalty all the greater for the fact that he has claimed his wrong as righteousness, and so led others into vice. He who is especially well placed to avoid sin is all the more deserving of blame and heavy punishment when he commits it. No one is a greater traitor to his people than a prince who abuses his right to rule.]42

That such a prince should give graphic evidence of a counter to his bad behaviour, again for all to see, would seem most right and fitting to the archbishop. This interpretation of the crystal's origin, composition, and end might help, furthermore, to explain some of the more puzzling of the scenes upon it. If the gift was indeed designed as restitution to Theutberga, we can understand all the better the central place occupied in it by the innocent Susanna, and the comparative upstaging of the Prophet Daniel. Dr. Kornbluth has pointed, too, to the number of 'extras' in the judgement scenes on the crystal, and has herself associated this with Hincmar's stress on public trial and acquittal.43 This is certainly in tune with Hincmar's reference to the story in, for example, his De

40. Hincmar, pp. 839, 892. 41. Kornbluth, Carolingian Treasure, p. 462. 42. De divortio, c. vii, PL, vol. 125, p. 761. 43. Kornbluth, Carolingian Treasure, p. 298.

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presbyteris criminosis. Here he points out explicitly that, because of the dire example of the wrong done to Susanna, two witnesses can never be enough.44 We might also better understand in this way the savagery with which the stoning of the elders is depicted. The Vulgate does not specify the form of execution these elders suffered, only that it was the same as that Susanna herself might have undergone. Death by stoning could, in the ninth century, follow accusations of maleficent magic.45 The accusation that Theutberga had procured an abortion, an abortion which had rendered her sterile, might have subjected her to such a death, for magically induced sterility and abortion merited the death penalty according to Salic Law;46 Hincmar himself implies that she might have been afraid of it.47 Certainly any wronged Prankish wife had reason to be afraid of death, as Hincmar frequently makes clear.48 What better than to depict with a particular vividness the exact compensating form of death which ought, by some standards, to be suffered by false accusers in this case? If, moreover, the seated figure in the central medallion of the Lothar crystal (the one addressed so confidently by Susanna), is meant to be King Lothar II himself, and if the bottles carried by Susanna to her bath do in fact represent, not just soap and bath-oil, but the oils for royal unction as Dr. Kornbluth convincingly suggests,49 we may even credit Archbishop Hincmar with a somewhat savage sense of humour — one communicated, furthermore, to the workshop which produced the crystal.50 Susanna/Theutberga here, through the oils of the royal anointing, controls the very means by which Lothar claims a right to his Christian crown. The Lothar crystal was certainly royal propaganda of a sort; yet this propaganda did not emanate from, but was forced upon, the Prankish king. It expressed a highly ecclesiastical view of the duties of Christian kingship, foremost among which, in this particular case, was the protection of the rights of the Christian married woman against her enemies — lay, ecclesiastical, and above all, supernatural. Hincmar's actions upon the supernatural front, and his willingness to oppose magic with Christian counter-magic, may have been made all the more enthusiastic because his views were not shared by all of his

44. PL, 125, p. 1099. 45. It was threatened in the archdiocese of Lyons as a penalty for the transporting of crops by magic. See Agobardi Lugdunensis opera omnia, ed. L. Van Acker (Turnhout, 1981), p. 4. 46. See Pactum lex Salicae, 19, 4, in Pactus legis Salicae ed. K. A. Eckhardt (Gottingen, 1954-56), p. 82. 47. 'Hoc tamen praemonemus, tibique diligenter prohibemus Dei et nostra auctoritate, ut nee alicujus suasione, imo deceptione, ad alios honores invitata, nee timore cujuslibet poenae vel mortis aliquod tibi crimen falso confingas, et nos, quod absit, in errorem inducas', De divortio, c. i, PL, vol. 125, p. 631. 48. Many references, especially from the De coercendo are given in Hincmar i, pp. 374-75. The De divortio, PL, vol. 125, pp. 657-58, speaks of how wives can be butchered, like lamb or pork. This passage is close to a further mention of the Story of Susanna. 49. De divortio, pp. 302-4. 50. Perhaps the same workshop at Aachen that produced Lothar's engraved seal.

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ninth-century ecclesiastical contemporaries.51 Nor, evidently, were his views upon the rights of women. For all of these reasons, his decisions in the case of Lothar and Theutberga were as courageous as they were clear. The giving of a protective amulet to Theutberga for her to wear, one with so forthright a symbolic message — and a highly decorative and expensively wrought one too — suits all we can reconstruct of the archbishop's principles about, and sympathies for, ninth-century Prankish women. Had incest been proved against Theutberga she might have suffered, we may add, severe financial and social loss;52 its disproof must have involved evident financial and social gain. The punishment, once more, should fit the crime. The urgency which required so spectacular a gift may have faded, as Hincmar perhaps knew it would. The message the gift conveyed has not. The Story of Susanna remains of great importance both to those who are concerned about justice and to those who are concerned about justice to women. Its relevance to women's history is especially, and pressingly, evident. Whether the Story of Susanna is to be found in written works, on treasures, in paintings and illustrations, or in all of them, it can, when set down firmly within its specific historical context, provide invaluable insights into the world which was contemporary with its use, and especially into the attitudes to women that prevailed in that world. The Story might be employed to serve many different ends, from the protective and rehabilitative ones I have tried to depict here, through the seemingly gentle and romantic ones of the early fifteenth-century English A Pistel of Susan?3 to the erotic tastes, 'legitimised voyeurism', glamorisation of rape and rank pornography encouraged by so many of the sixteenth-and seventeenth-century patrons of paintings of Susanna.54 A great many more discoveries about the characterisation of Susanna and the two elders, the Prophet Daniel, the 'extras', the intentions of the patrons, writers, and artists who make use of the Story, all manner of fascinating things, lie there, waiting to be made. The ends for which the Story of Susanna were employed, both in the middle ages and beyond, would both support and reward prolonged and expert inquiry. 51. Archbishop Agobard of Lyons (816—40), for instance, and others did not share Hincmar's views upon the importance of the ordeal. See R. Bartlett, Trial by Fire and Water (Oxford, 1986), pp. 72-73. 52. Incest involves loss of property according to c. 6 of the Capitula missorum of 821, for instance, Capitularia regum Francorum, ed. A. Boretius (Hanover, 1883), p. 301. 53. For this, see A. Miskimin, Susannah (New Haven, 1969) and T. Turville-Petre, ed., Alliterative Poetry of the Later Middle Ages (London, 1989), pp. 120-39. The context within which this too was employed would amply reward further investigation. I am indebted to my colleague, Dr. Roger Nicholson, for drawing my attention to this edition. 54. 'By the turn of the seventeenth century', writes M. D. Garrard, Artimesia Gentileschi (Princeton, 1989), p. 188, 'many Susanna pictures were distinguished — if that is the word — by a hard-core eroticism that was sometimes subtle and sometimes hardly so'. The whole chapter on Susanna in this work (for which see pp. 184—209) is an admirable illustration of the interest such an enquiry can afford to the historian. It tells us a great deal, too, about the artists who accept commissions for such paintings. The attitude of Artimesia towards the depiction of Susanna is here beautifully distinguished from that adopted by many of her male counterparts. For this reference, I am indebted to my colleague, Dr. Michael Wright.

5

The Queen's 'Demesne' in Later Anglo-Saxon England Marc Anthony Meyer

The analysis of the landed estate of the queens of later Anglo-Saxon England is a subject deserving more attention than it has thus far received even from those historians whose primary research has focused on the English royal demesne.1 In his study of royal lands in England from the Conquest of 1066 to the accession of Edward I in 1272, Robert S. Hoyt amply demonstrated the central importance of the material resources on which the vital and characteristically medieval institution of kingship was based. By construing the royal demesne as 'all the land in England which the king held in dominio, "in his own hand", land which is not held of the king by someone else', Hoyt's application of the term was thus extended to include not only rural manors in the king's hands, but 'demesne' forests, highways and boroughs as well.2 In a similar, but more comprehensive study of royal land holdings produced some two decades later, B.P. Wolffe took issue with Professor Hoyt's conceptual understanding of the English 'royal demesne', and generally concluded that historians must beware of attributing to the king's estate an entity and coherence that it did not possess at the time of the Norman Conquest and for decades thereafter.3 However, neither scholar sought to incorporate into his analysis a detailed study of the Anglo-Saxon royal demesne or the landed estate maintained and controlled by the king's consort in pre-Conquest England. The fact that toward the end of the Anglo-Saxon age few individuals — male or female — were as influential as Queen Eadgyth (d. 1075) itself argues in favour of looking closely at the 1. Nearly twenty years ago while nursing pints of stout in a pub outside of Dun Laoghaire, Denis Bethell remarked to me that the status and position of Anglo-Saxon queens depended equally on personality, familial relationships and the lands these women held. Considering these aspects of queenship, he continued, was vital for understanding not only the foundation and endowment of West Saxon royal nunneries (a subject I was investigating under Denis's kind and thoughtful guidance), but also for comprehending the institution of queenship and the ebb and flow of early medieval English history itself. I am very grateful to Professors C. Warren Hollister of the University of California, Santa Barbara and Robin Fleming of Boston College for their valuable comments and criticisms on a draft of this article. All errors are, of course, my own. 2. R. S. Hoyt, The Royal Demesne in English Constitutional History, 1066-1272 (Ithaca, 1950), p. 2. 3. B. P. Wolffe, The Royal Demesne in English History: The Crown Estate in the Governance of the Real from the Conquest to 1509 (Athens, OH, 1971), p. 35.

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queens' lands in any study of the 'royal demesne', which for the Anglo-Saxon historian logically begins with Domesday Book.4 Just as the king's authority was based in part on the holdings he obtained from his predecessors and those newly acquired, the power and influence of his royal consort was tethered to a landed estate.5 This alone requires an examination of queen's property. A complete analysis of queens' property for the half-millennium of Anglo-Saxon history is indeed warranted. Although necessarily limited in scope to the period from the reign of Alfred the Great (871-99) to that of William the Conqueror (1066-87), the present study is concerned with a number of crucial issues, of which perhaps the most significant is whether an entity known as the 'queen's demesne' was actually recognised among the Anglo-Saxons and their Norman conquerors, and in turn whether its existence can be validated by modern historians. If it does become apparent that royal consorts held only a loose constellation of properties exhibiting little historical continuity, determining the constitution and disposition of individual women's estates is nevertheless vital since it pertains to the growth and development of queenship in the late Anglo-Saxon polity and the extent to which a queen's authority was dependent on the possession of land. Their power and influence were indubitably derived in part from their considerable landed possessions, and this made some queens and royal consorts important characters to reckon with in that period from West Saxon resurgence in the late ninth century through the foundation of the Anglo-Norman monarchy. On the evidence of Domesday Book, the last Anglo-Saxon royal consort possessed a small estate. Ealdgyth (d. post-1066) was betrothed to Harold (1066) and then supposedly married the future king in the spring before the fateful Battle of Hastings.6 She maintained some ten estates in five northern 4. F. W. Maitland, in his classic Domesday Book and Beyond, (Cambridge, 1897), on p. 31, very sensibly suggested that the 'grown man will find it easier to think the thoughts of the school-boy than to think the thoughts of a baby'. He cautioned that as we journey backwards in time the 'familiar outlines become blurred; the ideas become fluid, and instead of the simple we find the indefinite. But difficult though our task may be, we must turn to it'. That Domesday Book (hereafter cited in the notes as DB) should become the touchstone for Anglo-Saxon historians is an idea of considerable merit and suggestive of a viable course to take when embarking on a study of any aspect of the royal demesne, including of course the estate maintained by the queen. Regarding access to DB, in addition to Domesday Book, ed. Abraham Farley and Henry Ellis (London, 1783-1816), which has been photographically reproduced with a translation by Phillimore Press under the general editorship of the late John Morris, the most accessible translations with valuable commentary are found in relevant volumes of the VCH. 5. See the appendix, 'Queens' Estates in Later Anglo-Saxon England', for details and DB and other source references to Anglo-Saxon queens' estates. 6. Most historians, following Orderic Vitalis, Ecclesiastical History, ed. Marjorie Chibnall, 2 (Oxford, 1969), p. 139, have suggested that Ealdgyth eventually married Harold Godwinson after the death of her first husband. Yet the confusion found in Orderic's history concerning Mercian affairs during the later years of the Confessor's reign calls into question his comments (continued)

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and West Midlands shires, all of which were assessed at roughly £15 T.R.E. Located exclusively in the earldoms where her family was influential, she held an estate suitable to her station -as a daughter of the eorlisc house of Mercia.7 Although the continued presence of the Eadgyth, the wife of Edward the Confessor (1042-66), was as problematic for Harold as for William the Conqueror after 1066, Ealdgyth could be expected to have been endowed with a more conspicuous estate owing to the matrimonial plans devised for her by (continued)

on Harold's marriage. It must be noted that later sources indicate the great earl had once before entered into a marriage agreement and failed to live up to it. See Eleanor Searle, 'Women and the Legitimisation of Succession', ANS 3 (1980), pp. 159-229, especially nn. 9 and 10. Indeed, the marriage would have been advantageous for all concerned. At a time when Harold was solidifying his plans to assume the throne, a course of action complicated by Northumbrian affairs involving Queen Eadgyth's favourite brother Tostig, a Mercian alliance was a wise move. Harold did obtain substantial lands in the Mercian earldom during the last years of the Confessor's reign; a part of any agreement reached between the earl and the house of Leofric may have been his marriage to Ealdgyth. The evidence may suffer from political bias (indeed, it may reflect the tenurial situation as it was in early 1065 and not in early 1066) and although extenuating circumstances existed, that DB does not record an estate for Ealdgyth even approaching that worthy of a queen certainly casts some doubt on the authenticity of Orderic's and others' remarks. It must also be kept in mind that Harold was married more Danico to Eadgifu Pulchra. I hasten to add, however, that William of Malmesbury, De gestis regum Anglorum, ed. William Stubbs, RS, 90, volume 1 (London, 1887-89), book 4, mentions a certain 'Harold', who with Magnus of Norway succeeded in subduing the Orkneys and adjacent islands in 1098. This man is referred to as the 'son of Harold, who was formerly king of England'. Since William of Malmesbury is none-too-good on Anglo-Saxon genealogies, there is no reference as to who his mother might have been, but it may be that the woman in question is Ealdgyth. When Ealdgyth died is unknown: she is possibly the same woman who held a small estate in Newton, Warwickshire under Thorkell of Warwick, which would place her death after 1086, for which see DB, i, fo. 241. 7. It has been suggested by M. L. Faull and M. Stinson, in Domesday Book, 30, Yorkshire, (Chichester, 1986), that the Eadgifu who held extensive properties in Yorkshire and Lincolnshire is Ealdgyth. If this interpretation of the DB evidence is accepted, as it has been by some historians, this sister of Edwin and Morcar would become a significant landholder in northern England. Yet, there is little to recommend this particular identification. Ealdgyth's presence as a major landholder T.R.E. in Yorkshire may help to account for Earl Harold's holdings in the shire, for they could have formed a part of any marriage settlement reached in 1065 between himself and the family of Leofric. It should be recalled that his brother Tostig was earl of Northumbria from 1055 until his expulsion by a popular uprising in 1065, prior to which or even as a result of which Earl Harold may have obtained his lands there. Although the DB scribes had some difficulty maintaining a consistent position relative to some Anglo-Saxon personal names, they were nevertheless well aware of the distinction between 'Ealdgyth' and 'Eadgifu', for which see Meyer, 'Women's Estates in Later Anglo-Saxon England: The Politics of Possession', HSJ 3 (1992). Another observation based on the DB evidence that works against the identification of 'Eadgifu' of Yorkshire and Lincolnshire with Ealdgyth of Mercia is that the latter's holdings in Shropshire, Warwickshire, Worcestershire, Derbyshire, and her two estates in Yorkshire, were obtained by a variety of post-Conquest followers of William the Conqueror. Ealdgyth's successor in Worcester and Warwick was Osbern, son of Richard Scrope; in Yorkshire it was Robert, count of Mortain; in Shropshire it was Earl Roger; and in Derbyshire it was Henry de Ferrers. Since the holdings of the Eadgifu in question went to Ralph de Mortimer and not the count of Mortain, there seems little sense in attributing these extensive lands and rights of sake and soke to Ealdgyth. It is likely that the manors held T. R. W. by de Mortimer, along with other estates in Lincoln — only one of which was in the hands of that Norman baron in 1086 — more properly should be placed among the vast estates of Eadgifu Pulchra. Although the identification of the Yorkshire and Lincolnshire 'Eadgifu' remains problematic, I have elsewhere attributed them to Harold's 'Danish' wife, for which see ibid., n. 57.

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The dates listed in the left- and right-hand columns represent either the year in which a woman married a king or that in which a man having previously married the woman obtained the throne. Furthermore, the last year of a king's reign, the year in which the woman died, or in which the royal marriage was dissolved is also given for individual queens and consorts. An asterisk indicates a concubine or Danish wife.

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her brothers Edwin and Morcar. However, the quick succession of cataclysmic events in 1066 may have thwarted any arrangements King Harold made for his consort. Conversely, King Harold's constant companion Eadgifu Pulchra (d. post-1066) had an estate that truly approximates a royal endowment. Although not crowned queen after Harold obtained the throne, and never referred to as such, Eadgifu was one of Harold's most loyal and powerful supporters, and a woman not to be treated in a cavalier manner.8 Unfortunately not much is known about this mysterious woman; but coming from the Danelaw — where she obtained estates without Harold's intercession — Eadgifu Pulchra was influential and wealthy there in her own right as distinct from being the great earl's wife.9 It is highly likely, however, that he helped her secure many important estates in Cambridgeshire as well as within his earldoms of Wessex and East Anglia.10 In fact, her properties in Norfolk, Suffolk and Essex point to a close affiliation with her husband's lands.11 By 1066 she held

8. Harold was probably first associated with Eadgifu during his tenure as earl of East Anglia. She is also known as 'Eadgifu dives' and most likely 'Eadgyth Swanneshals'. (The rendering of the name 'Eadgifu' is a mistake often made by DB scribes and post-Conquest writers.) In the course of a long relationship she bore him at least five children: Godwine; Edmund; Magnus; Gytha, who married Waldemar, king of Novgorod; and Gunhildr, who was a nun of Wilton. A man named either Ulf or Harold was possibly their son as well. Concerning Eadgifu, see E. A. Freeman, History of the Norman Conquest, 3 (Oxford, 1867-79), appendices K and RR, pp. 638^0 and 790-93; J. R. Boyle, 'Who was Eddeva?', Transactions of the East Riding Antiquarian Society 4 (1896), pp. 11-22; and Meyer, 'Women's Estates'. Furthermore, DB, i, fo. 137, records that the wife of a certain Godwine unjustly held Watton, Hertfordshire, and when pressed to return the estate to St. Peter's, Westminster, its rightful possessor, the woman turned 'with this land to Eadgifu [Pulchra], by force [vis], and held it in 1066'. The Latin vis in this entry implies that the wife of Godwine commended herself and her land to Eadgifu illegally. A further indication of her prominent position, stemming in part from her marriage more Danico to Harold, can be witnessed by the fact that their daughter Gunhildr was abducted from Wilton Abbey by Count Alan the Red in the early 1090s, presumably to enhance claims to her family estates. See Searle's interesting discussion of this incident and that of Queen Edith-Matilda in 'Women and the Legitimisation of Succession', pp. 166-69 as well as Christine Fell, Women in Anglo-Saxon England (Oxford, 1984), p. 97. 9. Freeman, Norman Conquest, 3, appendix RR, p. 791, suggests that Eadgifu 'was clearly a Norfolk woman', citing as evidence a donation of land at Thurgarton, Norfolk, to St. Benet's of Holm. Since she did not hold any estates in Norfolk according to DB, this conclusion seems highly unlikely. Regarding the history of Eadgifu's lands, which is difficult at best to reconstruct, DB is suggestive of the fact that many of her estates came by way of her own position and status. Leaving other considerations aside, the geographic distribution of her manors and sokelands in the East Riding of Yorkshire and northern Lincolnshire indicates all were not necessarily obtained through Harold's patronage. Her Lincolnshire manors located in Yarborough and Bradley wapentakes exhibit a geographic continuity with her East Riding estates in Hessle wapentake that indicate they probably formed part of a family inheritance. Yet, for the identification of the 'Eadgifu' who held these Northumbrian estates, see above, n. 7. 10. Eadgifu's Cambridgeshire estates were located in the southern part of that shire, some of them undoubtedly being obtained for her by Harold. Her demesne holdings in the shire were assessed at roughly 133 hides and valued at about £225, and her rights of soke and commendation ranged over thirty-five villages. With no ostensible ties with Hertfordshire or Buckinghamshire, Eadgifu held a number of estates in these shires where Harold was a prominent landholder. 11. Eadgifu's estate at Great Sampford, Essex was given to her by Harold during his tenure (continued)

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about 300 hides12 of land throughout seven shires (not including some town property in Canterbury) with an assessed value of slightly more than £400. Eadgifu's massive estate was atypical for wives more Danico but does indicate the degree to which Harold depended on her support.13 Little is known about the eleventh-century holdings of ^Elfgifu (d. post1040), another influential woman whose marriage was not solemnised by the church.14 The daughter of Wulfrun and Ealdorman yElfhelm of southern Northumbria, yElfgifu's liaison with Cnut (1016-35) dated from the time before he obtained the English throne.15 The hostility shown by King ^Ethelrsed (978-1016) to her family makes Cnut's choice of spouse politically significant. Her influential, and less than loyal, father held extensive lands in Northamptonshire, Staffordshire, and between the Kibble and Mersey, and he possessed the estates of Wirral, Conisborough, and a few others — some of which he received from his brother Wulfric Spot.16 Although ./Elfgifu herself is not mentioned in any Anglo-Saxon land document, she possibly maintained the family's interests in Northamptonshire. Conversely, ^Elfhelm's estates in Staffordshire and south Lancashire fell into the king's hands in 1006 when he and his two sons Wulfheah and Ufgeat, who were blinded on the king's order, were outlawed on account of their treasonous activities.17 After his marriage to ^Ifgifu-Emma (d. 1052), King Cnut sent vElfgifu and her children to live (continued)

as earl. A good indication of this is that King William was her successor there, DB, ii, fo. 7b. In her other manors and sokelands in Essex, Count Alan held in Eadgifu's place after the Conquest, DB, ii, fos. 35 and 35b. Furthermore, in Bergholt, Suffolk, 'King' Harold held thirteen hides at the time of his death. Eadgifu held nothing in Bergholt itself, but she administered the soke of fifteen manors from there. That personal commendation and socage was tied to the land and that it was not simply a loose bond between people indicates the significant position Eadgifu Pulchra held. Also located in Suffolk was Norton, which was held by 'certain freewoman Eadgifu' from the abbot of Bury St. Edmund's, DB, ii, fo. 286. That this 'Eadgifu'and Eadgifu Pulchra are one and the same woman is likely because Ashbocking and a few other sokelands under her control rendered £4 to the farm at Norton, DB, ii, fo. 285. 12. For the sake of convenience, I have used the term 'hide' as an all-inclusive unit of land measurement unless the distinction with it and sulungs or carucates is necessary to the argument. 13. Her rural holdings were located in Yorkshire, Lincolnshire, Hertfordshire, Buckinghamshire, Cambridgeshire, Essex and Suffolk and are characterised by extensive, aggregate soke and personal commendation extending over many people in nearly seventy-five village communities as well as by intensive demesne exploitation. 14. The issue of concubinage and relations that were apparently not solemnised by the church runs throughout Anglo-Saxon history. For a good discussion of the problem, see Margaret Clunies Ross, 'Concubinage in Anglo-Saxon England', Past and Present 108 (1985), pp. 3-34. There is little reason not to accept Eadgifu Pulchra as well as Cnut's 'concubine' ^Elfgifu of Northampton as legitimate wives whose offspring assumed rights of inheritance and aspirations to the Anglo-Saxon throne. 15. See Miles Campbell, 'Queen Emma and yElfgifu of Northampton, Canute the Great's Women', Mediaeval Scandinavia 4 (1971), pp. 66-79. 16. On yElfhelm's benefactions to Peterborough Abbey, see C. R. Hart, The Early Charters of Northern England and the North Midlands (Leicester, 1975), no. 14. For Wulfric's will, see Peter H. Sawyer, ed., Anglo-Saxon Charters: An Annotated List and Bibliography (London, 1968), no. 1536; hereafter cited as Sawyer with the appropriate document number. 17. Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, trans. Dorothy Whitelock, with David C. Douglas and Susie I. Tucker (London, 1961), E version, s.a. 1006; hereafter cited as ASC.

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in Denmark and she did not return to England until after his death, at which time she and her son Harold (1035-40) successfully struggled for possession of the English throne.18 The not-so-queenly endowments of Ealdgyth and ^Ifgifu of Northampton, and even the sizable estate of Eadgifu Pulchra, pale before the holdings of Edward the Confessor's queen. A daughter of the powerful eorlisc house of Godwine, Eadgyth ranks among those men and women whose enormous landed wealth extended throughout many shires. Her estate undoubtedly took shape throughout her husband's reign and, by the time the issue of royal succession assumed supreme importance, she could boast of some 1000 hides of land in addition to some burghal properties and income from various royal rights and dues.19 Valued at approximately £1550 according to Domesday Book, her estates were scattered throughout the kingdom.20 This places Queen Eadgyth at the forefront of female landholders of Domesday Book,21 and among the wealthiest people of England in the mid eleventh century. About half of her manors, many of which lay in the old kingdom of West Saxons where one would expect many of the queen's estates to be located and where her father and brother were successively earls of Wessex, were in the hands of King William by 1086. This fact strongly suggests that many of them were originally in King Edward's gift. For example, Kingsclere, Candover, and Tarrent were estates with which the Confessor endowed his consort.22 She also obtained Milverton, which by the mid eleventh century had become a secondary market of some importance. This manor was a remnant of the massive estate of Taunton, which had been associated with earlier royal

18. The domestic political drama occurring after the death of Cnut in November 1035 involved ^Elfgifu and Harold and ^Elfgifu-Emma and her son Harthacnut. Yet one must not forget the continuing presence of the jethelings Edward and Alfred, the sons of ^thelrsed and ^Elfgifu-Emma. After initially being required to agree to a division of the kingdom by a witan meeting in Oxford in 1035, Harold had made good his sole claim to the throne in the following year, at which time the dowager queen was exiled to Flanders. While there, ./Elfgifu-Emma tried to press the claims not only of Harthacnut, who originally had the backing of Godwine and Leofric of Mercia, but also those of Edward, for which see ASC (C), s.a. 1036 and Encomium, Emmae reginae, ed. A. Campbell, Camden Society, third series, 72 (1949), p. 49. 19. These figures — and those for Queen Matilda — do not include those manors 'held of the queen by thegns and other people. The number of estates she maintained does, however, include those to which reference is made in sources other than DB. 20. These calculations are at variance with those of Robert H. Davies, in 'The Land and Rights of Harold, son of Godwine, and their Distribution by William I' (unpublished M.A. thesis, University College, Cardiff, Wales, 1967), who suggests a value of about £900. Robin Fleming, whose findings are revealed in 'Domesday Estates of the King and the Godwines: A Study in Late Saxon Polities', Speculum 58 (1983), p. 991, figures the queen's estates were valued at about £400. 21. For a general analysis of women landholders recorded in the DB record, see Meyer, 'Women's Estates', and Pauline Stafford, 'Women in Domesday', Reading Medieval Studies 15 (1989), pp. 75-94. 22. Associated with Eadgyth's various manors at Tarrent, Dorset, is the Shaftesbury Abbey estate at Tarrent Hilton, which was first mentioned in the will of Alfred, Sawyer 1507, and later in a grant of King Athelstan, Sawyer 429. This nunnery was of course founded by Alfred himself for his daughter.

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consorts of Wessex.23 Like Milverton, Eadgyth's estate at Wargrave had been part of the English queens' holdings at least since the time of ./Elfgifu-Emma, who had interests there prior to her death. Although many of Eadgyth's manors were located north of the Thames,24 most estates are still to be found in old Wessex where the old West Saxon royal lands were concentrated, and probably came to her from the king — Beddingham, Frog Firle, Iford, Crewkerne and Martock being among them. Queen Eadgyth was certainly a influential and authoritative woman who clearly realised the political advantages of maintaining a large estate. She appears to have the same ravenous appetite for power as that mysterious 'gulping monster' to which poetic reference is made in the Life of Edward the Confessor.25 By engaging in a little simony, the queen obtained two episcopal manors from Herman of Sherborne and Giso of Wells.26 On another occasion, and much to the dismay of the abbot of Peterborough who apparently was to receive Fiskerton by gift of a certain Leofgifu, Eadgyth laid claim to the estate, saying the manor lawfully was hers because the woman had bequeathed it to her before embarking on a pilgrimage to Jerusalem. Only after the intercession of the king and the queen's brothers Harold and Tostig did she yield her claim in return for 20 marks of gold and a valuable collection of church ornaments.27 Not even Queen Matilda (d. 1083) could boast of an endowment such as Eadgyth controlled. At the time of her death, Matilda had estates in nine shires that were assessed at some 235 hides and valued at approximately £600. What is most remarkable when comparing the lands of these two women is not the discrepancy in value or hidage but that, with the one exception of Kingston Deverill,28 Matilda's estate bears little or no resemblance to Eadgyth's, or for that matter to the estates of any of her royal predecessors. A significant number of Queen Matilda's estates were held in 1066 by Brictric,29 while 23. For the relevant charters, see Sawyer 254, 310, 311 and 1091. 24. Eadgyth possessed a few estates in Huntingdonshire and held considerable properties in such places as Lincolnshire, Leicestershire, Northamptonshire and in the East Anglian shires. Conversely, nothing at all is recorded for her by DB scribes in Nottinghamshire, Cambridgeshire and Derbyshire. Of special note is Shropshire, where a certain 'Eadgyth' held ten estates assessed at some twenty-five hides, DB, i, fos. 252, 255, 256b, 259, 260, 260b. There is little to suggest that this woman was the queen of that name. 25. Life of Edward the Confessor, p. 15. 26. See DB, i, fos. 77 and 87, 89 respectively. 27. Sawyer 1029. 28. Deverill was indeed a royal estate and, like that of Tarrent mentioned above, a manor divided among a number of landholders. Wylye, a part of the old estate of Deverill, was held by the royal nunnery at Wilton during the late tenth and eleventh centuries, for which see Sawyer 766 and DB, i, fo. 68. 29. The queen had succeeded to many estates held by this son of the thegn ^Elfgar. Northlew in Devon, for example, was obtained by gift of the king and, like many of her manors, returned to the king's hand after her death. During the reign of her son William II (1087-1100), Northlew and other estates of Brictric's previously obtained by Matilda were given to Robert fitz Hamon, and they were subsequently acquired with his daughter Mabel by Robert, created earl of Gloucester. The estates were thus used to create the honour of Gloucester and passed out of the possession of the Anglo-Norman queens.

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others had been in the possession of a host of earls and thegns, including ^Ifgar of Mercia and 'Earl' Harold Godwinson. The whole of England was of course in the king's gift after the Conquest, but there were complicating circumstances with regards to Matilda. King William was faced with the dilemma of endowing his wife and the future queen with English lands suitable to her new royal station. He was compelled to carve out a new estate for his wife since Eadgyth herself remained alive for some seven years after Matilda's coronation as queen of England. Queen Eadgyth had to be maintained in a manner befitting her status as the widow of William's legitimate predecessor, whereby she would have assumed the rather dubious title of ealde hloefdige. Thus, what impresses one most about examining the landed estates of Eadgyth and Matilda is the element of discontinuity. Queens routinely outlived their spouses and thereby retained many estates with which they had been earlier endowed, a factor that no doubt hindered the development of an entity that can be called the queen's demesne. In this regard, King William allowed Eadgyth to retain the bulk of her pre-Conquest holdings not only because she was Edward's widow, but also as a favour for her support of his claim to the throne. By November of 1066 the Conqueror had made his way to Winchester, a city which lay in the dower lands of the late Anglo-Saxon queens. Since Eadgyth was in residence at Winchester as the army of Hastings approached with the victorious duke, the primates urbis may have consulted Edward's widow about the precarious situation.30 Perhaps on the queen's advice, they decided to receive openly the Conqueror. The politically astute Eadgyth may thus have engineered the surrender of the chief city of Wessex where the royal treasury was traditionally kept, in return receiving William's gratitude and retention of her estates. Transferring royal authority always affected patterns of landholding in England to a degree, and although many dowager queens' retained their estates, such holdings were nevertheless subject to some fluctuation. The Danish conquest of the early eleventh century would have produced results akin to those of 1066 had not Cnut married ^thelra^d's widow jElfgifu-Emma, who undoubtedly negotiated the retention of her royal estates to help secure her political objective of having one of her sons occupy the English throne, thereby perpetuating her status at court. After her marriage to ^Ethelraed in the spring of 1002 and the death of the dowager ^Elfthryth (d. 1002) later that year, ^Ifgifu-Emma was endowed with a few properties associated with some of her predecessors, such as parcels of land in Winchester and Exeter, Stoke and, perhaps, Wargrave. Other estates were given to her during the reign of her first husband, including Marston, Newington, Brithwell, and properties in Northamptonshire (now in Rutland). The queen also held Islip, the estate where her son Edward was born in c. 1005 and which he subsequently received

30. The Carmen de Hastingae Proelio of Guy Bishop of Amiens, ed. Catherine Morton and Hope Muntz (Oxford, 1972), pp. 40-41.

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as a gift from his mother.31 During the reigns of Kings Cnut and Harthacnut (1040-42), j£lfgifu-Emma obtained estates at Belchamp, Hemmingford Grey, Kirby Cane and Pitminster. When and from whom she received Lakenheath and jurisdictional rights in the Thingoe hundreds is unknown; but it is likely that at least Thingoe was a part of her dowry.32 This woman was undoubtedly wealthier than the extant documents would indicate, for according to the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle Edward complained after his accession that his mother had not been as generous with her treasures as he would have liked: the new king was in a good position to determine just how rich she was after he despoiled her of her properties.33 The element of discontinuity distinguishing the estates of the Confessor's widow and Matilda characterises those of Eadgyth and her immediate predecessor as well. With but a few exceptions such as Wargrave, Chesham and Hayling, Eadgyth's rural holdings are not to be found among the possessions of other queens or consorts. Eadgyth's estate was very much a creation of Edward's reign, during which time her family's political star had reached its zenith. Of course, the majority of her holdings came from King Edward, but a few others were handed over to Eadgyth — as was the case with her sisters as well — by her kinsmen.34 Although it is usually difficult to establish a clear relationship between the queen's lands and those of her family, Sussex does provide an opportunity to establish some association between them. The Godwines held some forty-three estates in the shire, all of which were assessed at 611 ploughlands and valued at £778. King Edward himself maintained thirteen manors worth £278 in addition to collecting two nights' farms.35 The queen held much less than the others but still maintained significant holdings there: she had six estates valued at slightly more than £50. Her estates at Beddingham and Iford were certainly given to her because of her royal status. Conversely, Chalvington and Eckington, lying adjacent to Harold's estate of Ripe in Shiplake hundred may very well have descended to her from the lands her family controlled in the Rape of Pevensey. In fact,

31. It seems a custom arose among the Anglo-Saxon whereby those estates associated with the birth of an astheling were initially given to the queen and then passed along to the child. King Alfred obtained Wantage in this way, which he bequeathed to his own wife Ealhswith. She in turn handed it down to Edward the Elder, whose wife Eadgifu received the estate from her son Eadred. The young king ultimately returned the estate to the woman who originally gave it to him as a birthday present. 32. The jurisdictional rights over the hundreds were eventually assumed by Bury St. Edmund's Abbey. 33. ASC (C), s.a. 1043. At the same time ^Elfgifu-Emma's confidant Stigand was deprived of his see and all he possessed. 34. Godwin's three daughters — Eadgifu, ^Elfgifu, and Gunhildr — together held slightly more than 125 hides in eight shires. For interesting insights, see Freeman, Norman Conquest, 2, 'The Children of Godwine', appendix F, in which the author does not acknowledge the existence of a fourth daughter (Eadgifu) in the family, and ibid., 4, 'The Lands of Gytha and Her Family in the West', appendix L, in which Freeman concentrates exclusively on the young earls and their mother Gytha. 35. See Fleming, 'Domesday Estates', pp. 992-93.

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Earl Godwine and his sons were not averse to endowing their kinswomen with lands originally set aside by the king for his earls. During the tenth century many royal consorts apparently obtained the majority of their estates from kinsmen, which they continued to hold along with those manors granted to them by their royal husbands. Eadwig's (955-59) marriage to ^Elfgifu (d. post-975), whose will records bequests to many people and religious institutions, certainly allowed her family a wider sphere of political activity.36 Whether she benefited much from her position as royal consort may be doubted. That Eadwig himself richly endowed ^Elfgifu with estates that later show up in her possession cannot be conclusively demonstrated; but she did obtain from him Shaftesbury Abbey's old estate at Gussage at the same time he reconfirmed a number of estates to that nunnery.37 It is not surprising that her estate bears no resemblance to those of Eadwig's grandmother Queen Eadgifu (d. 966) or the two wives of King Edmund (939-46), one of whom was still alive in the mid 950s. vElfgifu may have gained control of some estates that had been held by the dowager Eadgifu after her disgrace in late 956, but Eadwig's marriage did not last long enough for any such arrangement to remain in effect. Owing to the prominence of her family, she undoubtedly held estates in her own right. Most estates mentioned in ^Elfgifu's will were located in Buckinghamshire and may very well have descended to her from her own kindred. Princes Risborough, for example, was an ancient family estate that came into ^Ifgifu's possession sometime in the 950s.38 Furthermore, the important ealdormanships her kinsmen occupied in the following reign allowed yElfgifu to enjoy the patronage of her kinsman Edgar (957/59-75) after he assumed control of Wessex. ^Elfgifu was married to the king only for a brief time, the marriage being dissolved by Archbishop Oda of Canterbury in 958, which may account for the absence of royal endowment. Her tainted marriage did not deter Edgar from granting to his kinswoman royal charters for Linslade and Newnham in the mid 960s. Just as ^Ifgifu received the majority of her estates from her own kindred, so too the two wives of King Edmund obtained many manors through this more common means of descent of property rather than by the king's gift owing to their status as 'queen'. Indeed, the serial monogamy practised by many early

36. ^Elfgifu's and her mother ^Ethelgifu's family connections are most difficult to trace. One reliable tradition suggests, however, that she was descended from King ^Ethelrsed I, which made her a kinswoman of the powerful Athelstan Half-King. On his family, see C. Hart, 'Athelstan Half-King and his Family', Anglo-Saxon England 2 (1973), pp. 115-44. 37. When this great West Saxon royal abbey was founded during the 870s, it received a 100-hide endowment from Alfred the Great which included Handley-Gussage, Sawyer 357. In the midst of the upheavals of 955-956 and while Wynflasd, the king's maternal great-grandmother, was lay-abbess of Shaftesbury, young King Eadwig issued a reconfirmation charter for various manors to the nuns, but one which apparently did not include Gussage. This estate was subsequently obtained by ^Elfgifu, and she eventually bequeathed to King Edgar, Sawyer 1484. 38. This was once held by ^Ethelgyth, the wife of Ealdorman jEthelfrith, who was the father of Athelstan 'Half-King', Sawyer 367.

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English kings discouraged the development of special demesne lands for the queen. Edmund's second wife, ^Ethelflasd of Damerham (d. 975-91), received the majority of her properties from her family either before or after the king married her after the death of ^Ifgifu (d. 944), a benefactor of the nuns at Shaftesbury.39 Since the king died in early 946 ^thelfla^d was married to him for less than two years; in that time Edmund issued to her a charter for Pentridge, and 100 hides of land at Martin and Damerham with reversion of the estates to Glastonbury Abbey. ^Ethelflasd maintained great interest in the monastic revival as indicated by her bequests to Glastonbury and other communities that were recorded in her will drawn up sometime between 975 and 991.40 The will stipulates that those estates bequeathed to Barking, St. Paul's, Bury St. Edmunds and Stoke were subject to the usufruct of her sister ^Elflsed and her husband, Ealdorman Byrhtnoth, both of whom were to hold the lands until their deaths.41 Whether obtained from their husbands or their own families, the lands of royal consorts were anything but held in perpetuum — a common formula found in the charters; estates often slipped in and out of their control. Queen Eadgifu received Cooling and Osterland from her father Ealdorman Sigehelm of Kent, who obtained them from his ancestors.42 He gave Cooling to his daughter after repaying a debt of £30 to a certain Goda who held the manor as a surety. After Sigehelm's death at the battle of Holm, Goda denied the ealdorman had repaid the loan and the estate went into litigation. Over the next two decades Cooling and some other estates once held by Goda himself passed in and out of Eadgifu's hands.43 Perhaps out of sheer frustration, the 39. William of Malmesbury, in De Gestis Pontificum Anglorum, ed. N. E. S. A. Hamilton, RS 52 (London, 1870), p. 186, states 'Ibi Elgiva uxor Edmundi qui fuit pronepos hujus Elfredi monasterium santimonialium fecit, ibidemque carnis exuvias post fatum deposuit'. ^Elfgifu, the mother of Eadwig and Edgar, was a patron of the nuns at Shaftesbury, and according to ^thelweard the Chronicler, The Chronicle of /Ethelweard, ed. and trans. A. Campbell (London, 1962), pp. 4, 6, was buried there in 944. That she was venerated as a saint is apparent from an entry in the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle that states the two sons of Edmund and 'Saint ^Elfgifu' succeeded to the thrones of Mercia and Wessex, ASC (D), s.a. 955. The Liber vitae of New Minster and Hyde also states 'Saint ^Elfgyfu rests at Shaftesbury', Liber Vitae, ed. W. De Gray Birch (London, 1892), p. 93. Wynflsed, the maternal grandmother of King Edgar, was the lay-abbess of Shaftesbury during the 950s, for which see Sawyer 485 and her will, Sawyer 1539. 40. She granted estates to Christ Church, Canterbury; the nunnery at Barking; St. Paul's, London as episcopal property; Ely; Bury St. Edmund's Abbey; Glastonbury; and two manorial churches at Stoke and Hadleigh. The will itself, Sawyer 1494, was drawn up at Bury St. Edmund's Abbey sometime between 975 and 991. For a discussion of the locations of these manors see Anglo-Saxon Wills, ed. and trans. Dorothy Whitelock (Cambridge, 1930), pp. 139-41. 41. JElfixd's own will of 1002, Sawyer 1486, indicates that the benefactions made to these houses by her deceased sister were handed over to them as stipulated by the queen. 42. The record of litigation involving Cooling is extant in both Anglo-Saxon, Sawyer 1211, and Latin, Sawyer 1212, in which version six additional estates are mentioned in a post-script as having been given by the queen to Christ Church, Canterbury. 43. The witan at Aylesford charged Eadgifu to clear her father by an oath equal to the sum of the debt, and afterwards declared in her favour. Goda, however, retained possession of the (continued)

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queen eventually donated both Cooling and Osterland to Canterbury, shortly before her friend Dunstan was installed as archbishop, taking the deeds and with her own hands laying them upon the altar of Christ Church for the perpetual benefit of the community and for the repose of her soul. Eadgifu's long quest for control of her two manors in Kent shows that it was not unusual even for powerful queens to lose control of their estates. Tisbury may be counted as well among those lands held precariously by royal consorts. Its history in the late ninth and early tenth centuries is clouded with uncertainty, but a charter of 984 records that this Wiltshire estate was given to Edmund's first wife ^Elfgifu.44 ^Ethelred Unrad's diploma to Shaftesbury nunnery mentions that the defunct abbey at Tisbury and its twenty hides of land once belonged to the nuns 'by grant of earlier kings'. The scribe further records that King Edmund had exchanged Butleigh in Somerset for Tisbury, which he then gave to ^Elfgifu. She apparently bequeathed Tisbury to Shaftesbury, yet after her death King Edmund again assumed control of the estate. A few years later Tisbury was in the hands of King Eadwig, who then returned it to Shaftesbury and received the old royal estate at Butleigh in recompense. Contemporary sources refer to many estates which were lost or wilfully alienated by royal consorts, but this does not presuppose the total absence of continuity for queens' holdings in later Anglo-Saxon England. Exeter, Winchester and Roteland were held by successive queens in the late tenth and eleventh centuries. There is in fact reason to believe that these properties comprised a part of the queens' dowries. Eadgyth's burghal property in Exeter was associated at least with other eleventh-century queens.45 Edward the Confessor's grant of his 'two-thirds' from Exeter to Eadgyth was repeated by one of the Anglo-Norman kings.46 Winchester had an even longer association with royal women than Exeter, for the early ninth-century boundaries of Nunnaminster Abbey were marked out on land that once belonged to Alfred the Great's wife Ealhswith (d. 904).47 Later, ^thelrasd (continued)

estate until King Edward intervened on her behalf, not only taking away Cooling but also his other lands and subsequently offering them with their title deeds to Eadgifu. When King Edward died, Goda petitioned King Athelstan to intercede with Eadgifu for the restoration of his lands, all of which she returned with the exception of Osterland and Cooling. Goda then swore an oath to her that the dispute was at an end. Eadgifu's possession of the two estates continued until Eadwig deprived her of all her properties, at which time Coda's sons Leofstan and Leofm obtained the two estates and held them until Edgar succeeded to the throne of all England. 44. Sawyer 850, and see W. Goodchild, 'Tisbury in the Anglo-Saxon Charters', Wiltshire Archaeological and Natural History Magazine 44 (1929), pp. 322-31. For a discussion of the bounds see G. B. Grundy, 'The Saxon Charters of Wiltshire', Archaeological Journal, second series, 27 (1920), pp. 90-96. 45. See ASC (F), s.a. 1003. 46. Matilda, the wife of Henry I (1100-35), gave £25 she derived from the borough to Holy Trinity Priory, London. See J. H. Round, The Commune of London (London 1899), p. 85. 47. In the Book of the Nunnaminster, a nun's prayer book that belonged to that nunnery, the boundaries of Ealhswith's property are preserved in a tenth-century hand, An Ancient (continued)

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granted to Queen vElfgifu-Emma what became known as the manor of Godbegot, of which mention is made in the Winchester Survey of 1110.48 From the time of Ealhswith, the king's wife apparently maintained interests in Winchester and other royal boroughs. By the mid eleventh century, Queen Eadgyth obtained properties from the Confessor in nearly a dozen royal boroughs, half of which were located north of the Thames.49 Property in Exeter and Winchester comprised part of the queen's dowry, which allows for some measure of continuity to be established regarding the endowment of royal consorts in the tenth and eleventh centuries. But Rutland provides the most dramatic example of royal endowment for the king's wife.50 Rutland did not acquire county status until the twelfth century: in 1086 its northern carucated half was fiscally accountable to the adjacent shire of Nottingham, whereas its southern hidated portion was considered a part of Northamptonshire.51 However, a large portion of southern Rutland represents an estate structure of some antiquity with connections to the queens of England dating at least from the time of ^Ifthryth. Queen Eadgyth herself controlled about half of the modern shire, for which she received royal confirmation in a writ of the Confessor notifying St. Peter's, Westminster of the grant of Roteland.52 Eadgyth was reserved a life interest in the area for which she was to receive the 'profits' for enriching the abbey. However, Domesday Book

(continued)

Manuscript, ed. Walter de Gray Birch (London, 1889), p. 96. Furthermore, the dedication of the Nunnaminster's tower by Archbishop Plegmund of Canterbury in c. 908 in honour of St. Mary may have marked the completion of the church buildings, situated as they were on land inside the Saxon city walls once held by Ealhswith, The Chronicle of /Ethelweard, p. 52. Yet owing to recent municipal development in the city, it is unfortunately impossible to determine exactly the boundaries of the abbey grounds, and hence the queen's property. But see Winchester in the Early Middle Ages, ed. Martin Biddle, Winchester Studies, 1 (Oxford, 1976), map facing p. 449. 48. See A. W. Goodman, The Manor of Goodhegot in the City of Winchester (Winchester, 1923), and 'The Winton Domesday', in Winchester in the Early Middle Ages, pp. 37, 46. Biddle, on p. 10, suggests that King Edward himself conducted a survey of Winchester in the late 1040s or early 1050s, a document seemingly known to the compilers of the later 'Winton Domesday'. It is perhaps among this group of properties where the queen's residence was situated and to which reference is made in the twelfth-century Winchester survey where Eadgyth waited for William the Conqueror to make his intentions know to the burgesses of the city. 49. See the appendix for those royal boroughs in which the queen maintained an interest. For discussion of boroughs and a comprehensive list, see M. W. Beresford and H. P. R. Finberg, English Medieval Boroughs (Devon, 1973). 50. F. M. Stenton, 'Introduction to the Rutland Domesday', Rutland, 1, VCH (London, 1908), pp. 121-37. 51. Rutland is, however, treated as a separate shire in the Appendix. For an exacting study concerning the origins of the shire, see Charles Phythian-Adams, 'Rutland Reconsidered', Mercian Studies, ed. Ann Dornier (Leicester, 1977), pp. 63-84. 52. Sawyer 1138, which reads: 'And I inform you that I have given to Westminster, to Christ and to St. Peter, Rutland, and everything belonging to it, with sake and with soke, with toll and with team, and in all things as fully and as completely as I myself possessed it. And I grant that Queen Eadgyth shall have it as long as she shall live and annually enrich the monastery therefrom. Godkeep you'. For a discussion of the writ, see Anglo-Saxon Writs, ed. F. E. Harmer (Manchester, 1952), pp. 323-24.

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indicates that at least for her estates in Martinsely wapentake the queen's control was more thorough than implied in the writ, for in 1086 King William and not Westminster Abbey was tenant-in-chief of those estates. Although the Five Boroughs, of which Roteland had been a part, was incorporated into the kingdom during the tenth-century reconquest of the Danelaw, its peoples remained restive. The district was of strategic value as the kings of Wessex consolidated their hold over the northern territories. Lying adjacent to the old Roman thoroughfare of Ermine Street, the queen's estates were prized for their political and military importance, a consideration not overlooked by William the Conqueror in 1075. Not all property in the king's gift belonging to Eadgyth's predecessors was given to her by Edward the Confessor. Burghal holdings in Reading and Amesbury along with various rural estates remained outside the queen's control. ^Elfgifu-Emma's estate at Kirby Cane, for example, was in the possession of Bury St. Edmunds and not Eadgyth in 1066. Still, King Edward endowed Godwine's daughter with many new holdings, some of them quite large. The queen benefitted especially when Leominster Abbey was dissolved in the wake of the scandal involving her brother Swegn and its abbess Eadgifu.53 This nunnery in Herefordshire was apparently refounded by the ealdormen of Mercia during the tenth-century monastic reform and developed into the largest and most prosperous community of nuns in the West Midlands. However, its fortunes changed dramatically by the end of the Anglo-Saxon period after its suppression by King Edward in late 1046. That the abbess's moral improprieties permanently disrupted monastic life there may be dismissed because Domesday records that certain revenues were still used for the maintenance of 'the nuns of Hereford' in 1086.54 Domesday Book reveals that Leominster's old monastic estate amounted to approximately 130 hides, supporting some 380 ploughlands;55 but by 1066 the nuns' endowment was a vestige of what it had been during the early years of the Confessor's reign. It was perhaps after Queen Eadgyth's forced retirement at Wherwell Abbey had ended in early 1052 that King Edward was constrained to comply with the intention of the Regularis concordia that the queen of England should serve as protector and benefactress of nunneries and nuns throughout the realm.56 To supplement her other holdings in Herefordshire, he granted his queen eighty hides that once belonged to Leominster.57 Undoubtedly enhancing the queen's 53. ASC (C), s.a. 1046. 54. Along with the nuns of Hereford, DB, i, fo. 181b, Abbess Leofflsed, who was perhaps related to the eleventh-century earls of Mercia, continued to hold a few Herefordshire estates, DB, i, fo. 180. 55. DB, i, fos. 179b, 180, 180b. 56. Regularis concordia, ed. Thomas Symons (London, 1953), p. 2. 57. A few of the great earls also received some of the abbey's estates. It appears that Much Markle, which before the Conquest was associated with Leominster itself, was obtained by Earl Harold either from or at the insistence of Queen Eadgyth. He held seventeen hides there T.R.E., DB, i, fo. 179b. Those estates held by Eadgyth were eventually assumed by King William, and (continued)

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position in this troublesome shire, the royal gift of many Leomister estates may be viewed as well in light of Earl Harold's design for consolidating his power in the Midlands and along the Welsh marches at the expense of the eorlisc house of Leofric. The prominent position of her kinsmen, as well as the high status accorded queens by the mid eleventh century, allowed Eadgyth to reach the pinnacle of regal authority and to amass a very large number of valuable estates. The lofty heights of power and influence scaled by the Confessor's wife and the extent of her massive estate were accomplishments of which the royal consorts of early Wessex could only dream. The low status of the king's wife among the West Saxons was a well-known fact even among the Carolingians. In the mid ninth century, it was necessary for Alfred the Great's father ^Ethelwulf (839-58) to be charged by Charles the Bald to anoint his daughter Judith as queen of Wessex, so that she would gain official recognition befitting her lineage.58 The circumscribed role played by the king's consort in West Saxon affairs is illustrated as well by the limited material resources these women seem to have possessed in the late ninth and early tenth centuries.59 According to Alfred's will, his wife Ealhswith, whom Asser does not even mention by name, held a few rural estates in Berkshire and Wiltshire.60 These estates and her property in Winchester appear to be no more than dower lands customarily granted to Anglo-Saxon women; yet Ealhswith probably controlled the estates while the king lived.61 As the daughter of Ealdorman ^Ethelrasd I (d. 871), Ealhswith may well have held estates in Mercia owing to the position occupied by her family there, yet what she actually possessed — if anything — is a matter of speculation. The holdings of royal wives during the tenth and early eleventh centuries may seem to pale before that of the wealthy Eadgyth, but their landed wealth yielded some opportunities to participate actively in the affairs of the realm. Faring somewhat better than Ealhswith, the wives of Edward the Elder (899-924) (continued)

more than likely after 1075. Prior to this, King Edward held only 4.5 per cent of the shire's assessment. For a detailed discussion of Leominster's estates, see J. H. Round, 'Introduction to the Herefordshire Domesday', Herefordshire 1, VCH (London, 1890), pp. 284-85. 58. See Pauline Stafford, The King's Wife in Wessex, 800-1066', Past and Present 91 (1981), pp. 3-4 and her 'Charles the Bald, Judith and England', in Charles the Bald, ed. M. Gibson, J. Nelson and D. Ganz (Oxford, 1981). 59. Although any conclusions concerning the land holdings of Anglo-Saxon queens or consorts whether of Wessex or elsewhere will be prejudiced by the lack of substantial evidence, royal women did hold estates — however few. For example, Frithgyth, wife of ^thelheard of Wessex, held Brompton, Sussex, Sawyer 1677, and the large manor of Taunton, Hampshire, Sawyer 254, 310, 311 and 1091, while the Mercian queen Osthryth, wife of ^Ethelrasd of Mercia, held Water Eaton, Oxfordshire, Sawyer 361, and a few other estates. 60. See the appendix for her manors located at Lamborne, Wantage, and Edington. Wantage, the king's birthplace, may have descended to her from Alfred's mother. 61. For general discussions on the traditions of landholding and dower, see M. Meyer, 'Land Charters and the Legal Position of Anglo-Saxon Women', in The Women of England, ed. Barbara Kanner (Hamdon, CT, 1979), pp. 57-82 and Pauline Stafford, Unification and Conquest: A Political and Social History of England in the Tenth and Eleventh Centuries (London, 1989), pp. 162-79.

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progressively became more influential at court, a feature of their tenure partly attributable to increased land holdings. Virtually nothing is known about Ecgwynn (d. post-900) or her estates; her son King Athelstan (924-39) apparently did nothing to enhance her position at his court.62 (Documentation for this important period of the tenth century is, however, admittedly very scarce.) In what appears to have been a political manoeuvre designed to neutralise the claims of King ^Ethelrasd's descendants, Edward married his next wife ^Elflsed (d. 944) around the turn of the century, taking the unusual step of having her crowned queen.63 After Edward's death, her former status as a consecrated queen, her family's prominent position, and the estates she possessed allowed ^Iflasd to exercise that legitimate prerogative of royal consorts who had been replaced at court. She entered a nunnery but did not live the life of strict enclosure. Acting in the interests of the church by being especially supportive of the reform-minded Dunstan, ^Iflasd used her landed wealth to enhance Glastonbury's endowment. Indeed, the abbey over which Dunstan ruled as abbot from c. 940 to 957 appears as the sole beneficiary of her material generosity. She was given twenty-five hides at Winterborne Monkton that she presumably bequeathed or donated to Glastonbury in the early 940s.64 Likewise, ^Elflasd received royal charters for estates at Okeford Fitzpaine65 and Buckland Newton and Plush.66 In 891, King Alfred had exchanged Plush and land in Somerset for Sutton Poyntz in Dorset, an estate then held by a certain

62. Ecgwynn is described as femina noblissima and probably married Edward prior to his elevation to the throne. According to William of Malmesbury's anachronistic view, in Gesta regum, p. 155, Athelstan was illegitimate. 63. According to later sources, Edward's first 'legitimate' wife was ^Iflatd. A woman named ^Elflsed is mentioned in the will of Alfred the Great, Sawyer 1507, but to assume that these women are one and the same is tenuous at best. The name was certainly not uncommon during the Saxon period. It seems certain, however, that jElflasd was Edward's second cousin: she was the daughter of jElfhelm, son of ^thelrazd I (d. 871), and hence a niece of that ^thelwold who attempted to seize Edward's throne. vElflasd is too perhaps the woman who embroidered the Durham Stole presented to Bishop Frithstan of Winchester (909-31). Before the dissolution of her marriage in c. 917, she gave birth to eight children, among whom where two anhelings with good claims to the throne. On her coronation, see Janet Nelson, 'The Second English Ordo', in her Politics and Ritual in Early Medieval Europe (London, 1986), pp. 361-74. 64. The donee of the charter issued by King Athelstan on 16 April 928, Sawyer 399, is identified by H. P. R. Finberg, in The Early Charters of Wessex (Leicester, 1964), no. 229. The estate is first mentioned in an authentic charter of Mlftxd's paternal grandfather King ^Ethelrazd, wherein he granted twenty-five cassati to Ealdorman Wulfhere in 869, Sawyer 341. Both charters are bound in the Glastonbury cartulary. No Saxon charter of a date later than vElflasd's refers to the estate. Glastonbury was in possession of Winterbourne Monkton at the time of King Edward's death in 1066 and when DB was compiled, DB, i, fo. 66b. 65. Sawyer writes, 'according to De antiquitate Glastoniensis ecclesiae, p. 72, Queen y£lfflsd gave land at Okeford to Glastonbury', Sawyer 1719. Again, the manor is last mentioned in this now lost charter, and DB records that Glastonbury held eight hides there in 1066 and 1086, DB, i, fo. 77b. 66. The first Saxon reference to Buckland Newton, Dorset, is found in a spurious document purporting to be a general confirmation charter issued in 854 by jEthelwulf of Wessex in behalf of the community at Glastonbury, Sawyer 303. During the late ninth century the estate and its complementary manor of Plush were once again part of the royal demesne, Sawyer 347.

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Beorhtwulf. By 941, both Plush and Buckland Newton were in royal hands, for in that year Edmund granted their fifteen hides to ;£lfla;d, then a nun residing at Wilton Abbey.67 The origin of her tenure at Hannington is unknown, but ^Iflasd obtained from King Edmund confirmation of her gift to Glastonbury.68 As the king's former wife, and as a kinswoman of the powerful and politically disruptive kindred of King ^Ethelrasd, ^Elflaed was maintained well during the remainder of her life with an income from her estates. A royal consort who survived her husband and raised healthy, capable and ambitious aethelings could expect to maintain a powerful position at court, particularly if her daughters-in-law were unsuccessful in pressing the advantages of their own natal kinsmen. When Edward's last wife Eadgifu,69 whom he married in about 918 as a matter of political expediency, returned to court with her sons, she proved much more determined and authoritative than either the shadowy Ecgwynn or ^Iflasd. King Edward's death in 924 removed her from the hub of power politics; but with the succession of her son after Athelstan's death Eadgifu exercised considerable influence in royal affairs.70 Edmund became king in 939 in one of the rare undisputed royal successions of the late Anglo-Saxon age. Young Eadred (946-55) followed his brother on the throne after his assassination, having already established a loyal following of ealdormen, thegns and ecclesiastics with the help of his influential mother. It is impossible to reconstruct an entirely accurate picture of Eadgifu's aggregate holdings, but her landed wealth was far from insignificant as shown simply by Eadred's post-obit gifts to her.71 After detailing his gifts to various religious communities and to many ecclesiastics and priests, Eadred bequeathed to his

67. See Sawyer 474. In 966, King Edgar issued another charter for the estates in behalf of his wife ^Elfthryth, Sawyer 742. But commenting on this document, Dorothy Whitelock suggested that the inclusion of such unusual phrases as 'tocius regni rex citra more' cast doubt on its authenticity, Sawyer, p. 240, citing Whitelock's personal comment. What seems likely, however, is that the charter embodies a genuine tradition that ^tlfthryth obtained the estates shortly after her marriage to Edgar as part of an endowment, after which Buckland Newton and Plush descended to Glastonbury, which held the estates T.R.E.. DB, i, fo. 77b. 68. Hannington is the subject of one of Alfred the Great's lost charters, Sawyer 1704, and to which reference is made in a lost cartulary of Glastonbury Abbey, Sawyer, p. 455, that lists grants of King Edgar to ^Elfwold, Sawyer 1763, and of King ^Ethelrxd to the abbey, Sawyer 1776. 69. Eadgifu was born prior to 902 for in that year her father, Sighelm of Kent, commanded an expedition against the Danes in East Anglia and died at the battle of Holm. Sighelm was apparently an old campaigner because he is described as meus fidelis dux in a charter of Alfred the Great, Sawyer 350. He is known to have held land in Kent, which he bequeathed to his daughter Eadgifu, Sawyer 1211 and 1212. 70. That King Athelstan himself was partly responsible for the remarkable position Eadgifu held at court may be attributed to the many foreign marriages arranged for his royal kinswomen and the apparent aversion he held toward marriage for himself. 71. King Eadred's will was drawn up sometime in the last few years of his life, during which time he suffered from poor health, Sawyer 1515. West Saxon rulers are not noted for their longevity.

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mother land at Amesbury,72 Wantage73 and Basing,74 and his many booklands in Sussex, Surrey and Kent.75 Her landed wealth equalled her royal status. The dowager queen was well placed to influence and shape the course of events, especially during the reign of Eadred. Royal widows of the tenth and eleventh centuries were indeed more actively involved in political and religious matters than had been customary for West Saxon royal consorts. In this regard, fraternal succession was instrumental in elevating the queen's status and position. By the time of Edmund's accession to the throne, Eadgifu was about forty years old and obviously still in control of her considerable faculties. The last thing she seems to have wanted was to live a quiet, secluded life. Not only was she actively involved in the affairs of state but, like her contemporary ^Elflaed, Eadgifu played a pivotal role in the early successes of the monastic reform movement spearheaded by Dunstan and ^Ethelwold. It is unclear whether this royal widow met Dunstan at Athelstan's court or during a visit to Glastonbury abbey; but by 943 she was the abbot's most loyal patron and continued to support his efforts throughout her long life. He would of course reciprocate around the time of Eadred's death in late 955, when her grandson Eadwig succeeded to the throne. Eadgifu's patronage of ^Ethelwold began somewhat later, when he became discontent with the monasticism practised at Glastonbury under Dunstan and wanted to travel abroad to learn a stricter way of life. When ^Ethelwold came before Eadred to obtain permission to travel to the Continent, Eadgifu advised the king not to permit such a remarkable man to depart from the realm.76 ./Ethelwold remained in England and Eadred was persuaded to grant to the future abbot and bishop the defunct monastery of Abingdon. The queen not only intervened with the king on behalf of the reformers owing to her preeminent position at the royal court, but she also supported them with generous gifts of land, seeing to it that the monasteries they controlled were adequately endowed. At the time of its refoundation by ./Ethelwold in 953, Abingdon was in complete disrepair and its early monastic estate scattered. Eadgifu gave the abbot the means from her own resources to refound the monastery and requested further endowments of land from her 72. The royal borough of Amesbury, Wiltshire, was the site of a nunnery founded by Queen jElfthryth in c. 980 on land she most likely received after Eadgifu's death. 73. Wantage, the birthplace of Alfred the Great, was always part of the West Saxon royal demesne and was at one time held by Ealhswith. A four-hide manor was held by William at the time of DB. However, the extent of the manor was greater than recorded, for there was land for twenty-one ploughteams that never paid geld, DB, i, fo. 57. 74. A certain priest named ^thelnoth had been granted land at Basing, Hampshire, Sawyer 505, that he subsequently donated to New Minster Abbey in Winchester. No other Saxon charter survives that mentions the estate, but see DB, i, fos. 43, 46b. 75. What booklands are meant is difficult to determine, but among those not mentioned by name are most likely the large manors at East and West Dean in Sussex, which were known to be held by Alfred the Great, Sawyer 1507, and Queen yElfthryth, Sawyer 904, who may in fact have inherited them from Eadgifu. 76. jElfric, 'Vita Sancti ^Ethelwoldi', Chronicon de Abingdon, 2, ed. ]. Stevenson, RS, 2 (London, 1858), p. 257.

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son.77 One hundred hides, which had been in the king's possession adjacent to the abbey, were added to the existing forty hides attached to the old monastery.78 Evidence about what lands Eadgifu specifically bestowed is unfortunately lacking. It is tempting to suggest that in the late 940s or early 950s she had acquired Helenstow and its complimentary estates at Culham, Winkfield and Swinley, all of which a few years earlier had been used to reestablish a nunnery in the vicinity of Abingdon.79 Furthermore, in 961 King Edgar issued a charter to Eadgifu for land at Meon,80 which she may have given to the Old Minster in Winchester. Domesday Book records that King William held Meon for seventy-two hides in 1086, but Archbishop Stigand held it T.R.E. for the use (ad opus) of the monks of the Old Minster, an abbey with which Bishop ^thelwold was involved.81 Tenth-century monastic reformers increasingly relied on royal patronage. Women such as Eadgifu responded by supporting the effort to revive those religious communities languishing in the wake of the Viking invasions of the ninth century. Many of Eadgifu's estates were situated in her father's old earldom, some of which she wilfully alienated for the sake of the monastic reformation. As a part of her ancestral estate, Stapleford was granted by King Eadred and SEdgiva Efax genetrix regum to Ely, the ancient East Anglian nunnery that by 956 was a house for men.82 The early date of this charter 77. Ckronicon de Abingdon, 1, p. 130: 'Mater quoque ejusdem regis, vocabulo Eadgiva, maximo abbatem cum monachis fovebat amore, et nunc eis suarum copias facultatum effundebat, nunc admonitu sedulo filii sui tantopere gratiam eis expetebat, ut in principio constituendi coenobii ipse fundamenta faciendi operis propria metiretur man, deinde regia liberalitate illos optime donaret. Gratia itaque Dei modernis se incolis sic innotescente benevolam, cum rex hinc cum matre sua supramemorata, potentes quoque plurimi locum donis frequentare, et terras conferre sibi gauderent, turn illinc possessiones ad eundem locum antiquitus pertinentes abbas partim ratione partim dato pretio conquireret, paucos ante annos coenobium ibi totum honorifice exstructum et ubertim ditatum videres'. 78. Sawyer 567. 79. Indeed, there is good reason to believe that before 953 an attempt was made to recreate a nunnery in the vicinity of Abingdon at St. Helen's Church. A charter of King Edmund dated 940 records a grant of Culham, Oxford to the king's kinswoman ^Ifhild, Sawyer 460. According to the abbey's chronicle, she was to hold Culham from 'Abingdon' just as King Cenwulf of Mercia (796-821) had granted it to his sisters, both of whom were active religious women, Chronicon monasterii de Abingdon, 1, p. 92. Thus Culham was in effect restored to the foundation as King Edmund placed jElfhild in possession of it and most likely of the defunct nunnery itself. The king issued another diploma to the nun Saethryth for land at Winkfield and Swinley, Berkshire, Sawyer 482, estates that according to the chronicle were eventually obtained by a certain Eadflsd who gave them to the abbey, Chronicon monasterii de Abingdon, \, p. 425. If a refoundation of St. Helen's nunnery at Abingdon was attempted in the early 940s the foundation cannot have survived more than a few years, for the estates were eventually absorbed into the endowment of ^Ethelwold's abbey. These estates may have been part of the forty hides still in the possession of the abbey when Eadgifu took it upon herself to assist ^thelwold in its refoundation. (These three estates have not been listed in the appendix.) 80. Meon, Hampshire was assessed at sixty-five hides, Sawyer 811. The other Saxon charters relating to the estate are bound in the Winchester cartulary, British Library, MS add. 15,350. 81. See DB, i, fo. 40b. 82. Sawyer 572. And see, David Knowles and R. Neville Hadcock, eds., Medieval Religious Houses of England and Wales (London, 1971), pp. 64-65.

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recording the gift of Stapleford suggests, however, that the estate was used as an initial stimulus toward reform, since it was issued prior to Ely's refoundation under the guidance of Abbot ^Ethelwold and monks from Abingdon. Royal patronage of monastic and cathedral communities in the tenth and eleventh centuries itself precipitated dramatic changes in Anglo-Saxon queenship. As a prelude to the queen's prescribed role as detailed in the Regularis concordia of 973,83 royal consorts of the early tenth century had assumed considerable responsibility for nunneries. Queen Eadgifu herself was actively involved in the nuns' affairs as early as the 940s, for it appears her intention concerning North Minster, an estate she received from King Edmund, was to support the small community of nuns at Thanet. The history of Minster in Thanet during the mid tenth century is very obscure; but what is known suggests that Eadgifu's gift to Canterbury — whose lands supported a dependent house of nuns until c. 1011 — is another example of a queen of Wessex actively subsidising a nunnery's refoundation during the era of monastic revival.84 Like other royal consorts, Eadgifu was a staunch patron of the nunneries. In 953 King Eadred granted his mother an estate at Felpham that was held by Shaftesbury Abbey T.R.E.85 The charter recording the grant is bound in the nunnery's cartulary, which once again suggests that Felpham and estates like it were Anglo-Saxon donations.86 The author of the Regularis concordia and King Edgar, who commissioned the work, may have charged the queen to protect the nunneries, but royal consorts discharged their obligations in many ways and for different reasons. 87 After Edgar's death in 975 royal succession again became an 83. Regularis concordia, p. 2: 'And he saw to it wisely that his Queen, ^Ifthryth, should be the protectress and fearless guardian of the communities of nuns; so that he himself helping the men and his consort helping the women there should be no cause for any breath of scandal.' This text is actually a synthesised edition of the Rule of St. Benedict and other monastic rules concerned mainly with liturgical matters and regulating English monastic custom. At least one version was written and translated into Old English by Bishop ^Ethelwold for a community of nuns, perhaps that of the Nunnaminster in Winchester. See Mary Bateson, 'Rules for Monks and Canons after the Revival under King Edgar', EHR 9 (1894), pp. 690ff. 84. This is the only Anglo-Saxon charter, Sawyer 489, referring by name to an estate at North Minster. The history of the Anglo-Saxon estate in the late tenth and eleventh centuries cannot be reconstructed owing to the lack of evidence, but it eventually descended to St. Augustine's, Canterbury. DB records an estate at North Minster which was assessed at forty-eight sulungs and containing sixty-two ploughs, DB, i, fo. 12. That St. Augustine's held the estate T.R.E. and in 1086 suggests that Eadgifu, as the last known recipient of the manor, donated North Minster to the monastery. It may be considered as well that Eadgifu's possession of the estate is another example of a royal consort who assumed part of the endowment of a defunct royal nunnery. For a discussion of manor's boundaries see Johannes K. Wallenberg, Kentish Place-Names (Uppsala, 1931), pp. 22, 258-60. 85. DB, i, fo. 26. 86. Sawyer 562 is bound in British Library, MS Harley 61. The cartulary is a fourteenth century compilation of Anglo-Saxon charters and two Anglo-Norman estates' surveys. Felpham was at one time part of the West Saxon royal demesne. Alfred the Great bequeathed the estate to his maternal uncle Osferth, Sawyer 1507. 87. j£thelwold, the editor/author of the rule, attempted to intensify the power of the monastery as an institution and lessen the chances of an abbot or abbess dissipating the landed (continued)

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issue, as -^Ethelflasd's son Edward (975-78) and the young ^Ethelrasd contested the throne. Being mere boys, both asthelings became pawns manipulated by feuding noble and ecclesiastical factions at court. The hostility felt by some ealdormen and thegns toward the wealth of monasteries and the tenurial revolution that excessive endowment of monasteries had engendered certainly exacerbated an already difficult situation, so that the kingdom fell further into political turmoil. Since Edward and ^Ethelrsed were born of different mothers, the accession of Edgar's oldest surviving son would have necessitated Queen ^Ifthryth surrendering her position at court, which she was decidedly against.88 The precise role yElfthryth played in the disputed succession following the death of her husband will probably never be known. Nevertheless, the queen's actions during Edward's brief reign and for the remaining two decades of her life, while her own son vEthelrasd ruled, proclaim her queenly authority. These years also reveal much concerning the influence yElfthryth exerted over her son, as well as her capacity to further her own aspirations — one of which was to establish firmly her own son as king of England. Of the two rivals for the throne, Edward was considered a bastard by some and therefore not as acceptable a candidate for the English throne as ^thelra^d. The allegation of Edward's illegitimate birth, as noted by some later historians, seems highly anachronistic since Dunstan and the monastic party backed the boy as king in 975.89 Edward was crowned rather than ^Ethelrasd, but this did not set the matter to rest. The young king was stabbed in 978 while visiting his stepmother Queen vElfthryth near her

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wealth of the abbey for personal reasons; but he failed to recognise, or chose to disregard, the inherent difficulties of exaggerated royal control of monastic affairs. In an account of the reform of the monasteries, translated in English Historical Documents, ed. Dorothy Whitelock (Oxford, 1955), 1, p. 849, presumably Bishop ^Ethelwold wrote: 'We also instruct abbesses to be deeply loyal and to serve the precepts of the holy rule with all their hearts, and to enjoin the commands of God Almighty, so that none of them shall presume senselessly to give God's estates either to their kinsmen or to secular great persons neither for money nor for flattery.' Yet, some effect of the new monastic land law can be seen, for example, in the large donation issued to the nuns of Wilton by King Edgar in 968. This charter, Sawyer 766, was a confirmation of their title to estates the king had formerly granted to Wulfthryth, his concubine and the mother of his child Eadgyth. Wulfthryth wanted to safeguard Wilton's interests from royal or secular encroachment after her death. She petitioned the king to grant the estates to the monastery instead of retaining possession herself. These lands, including estates in Wiltshire and the Isle of Wight, were free from all service except the three common dues. 88. The reign of King Edward the Martyr is discussed by D. J. V. Fisher, 'The Anti-Monastic Reaction in the Reign of Edward the Martyr', Cambridge Historical Journal 10 (1952), pp. 254-70, in which he writes on page 255, 'There was, strictly speaking, no anti-monastic reaction. The forces opposed to monasticism were used in support of the party in a primarily political dispute'. 89. It was alleged that Edward was not 'born in the purple', but the concept of porphyrogenitus is more in keeping with the days of Henry I (1100-35) than the late tenth century. See C. N. L. Brooke, The Saxon and Norman Kings (London, 1963), pp. 128-29 and W. A. Chancy, The Cult of Kingship in Anglo-Saxon England (Los Angeles, 1970), p. 25.

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estate at Corfe Castle. Dunstan immediately installed ./Ethelrasd as king to quell further disturbances.90 Landed estates granted to her by the king, as well as properties bequeathed by high ecclesiastics and nobles, had allowed ^Elfthryth to acquire substantial resources over the years.91 The power and authority that accrued to her were used to stabilise ^EthehWs regime after the murder of Edward the Martyr. Since little or no contrast was recognised between regnum and sacerdotmm by the Anglo-Saxons, Edgar unwittingly used this lack of distinction to his advantage. His policy of endowing monasteries and cathedral communities controlled by friendly monk-bishops was instrumental in consolidating his authority over a once divided kingdom, as he engineered a kind of tenurial revolution that seemingly reversed trends of an earlier era.92 ^Elfthryth helped to stabilise her young son's regime by effecting a similar strategy through the patronage of religious communities; she thereby strengthened her hold over the troubled kingdom. The queen realised her aim in part by negotiating abbatical appointments, maintaining direct control of certain nunneries and founding new monasteries. The tradition of conditional patronage of monastic communities was well established; many royal consorts before and after Ealhswith, who had a hand in the Nunnaminster's foundation, had granted estates to communities of nuns or monks for more mundane reasons than the salvation of their souls. Until very late in life, ^Ifthryth remained the titular head of at least three royal convents: she even went so far as to dislodge the abbess of Barking in order to control its strategic estates along the Thames.93 The queen's tactic enabled her to control large areas of the English countryside and maintain a standing retinue of supporters by granting or leasing monastic estates — especially from monasteries she founded herself — to thegns whose

90. Whether ^Ifthryth was directly involved, as alleged by some chroniclers and historians of the period, or whether she has been implicated unjustly is a matter of conjecture. But in the Life of Edward the Martyr, Edward King and Martyr, ed. Christine E. Fell (Leeds, 1971), pp. 3-4, it is written: 'Sed totius bonitatis inimicus diabolus felicibus actibus inuidens, et communia regni totius gaudia disturbare cupiens, nouercam eius ^Elftrid in odium ipsius consitat; cuius praesumptuosa calhditas quam sit execrabilis, ex euentu rei satis animaduerti potest, nam inuidiae zelo succensa, cogitare coepit qualiter uirum Dei a regno exstirparet, ut filius suus vEthelredus liberius in regno substitueretur'. See also Fisher, 'Anti-Monastic Reaction', pp. 259-61 for a discussion of ^Ifthryth's part in the murder of Edward. 91. Two royal charters were issued on her behalf, Sawyer 725 and 742. Also, a will dated 968-71, Sawyer 1485, records that ^Elfthryth was the recipient of an estate at Scyraeburan. 92. See Robin Fleming's interesting and perceptive article entitled 'Monastic Lands and England's Defence in the Viking Age', EHR 395 (1985), pp. 249-65. 93. Royal patronage, such as Queen ^Elfthryth exercised over her foundations and Barking Abbey, was not always beneficial to the spiritual life of the monastery. The Life of St. Wulfhilda clearly illustrates this point. See, Mario Esposito, 'La vie de Sainte Vulfhilde par Goscelin de Cantorbery', Analecta Bollandiana 32 (1913), pp. 20-21. After being made the protectress of the nuns, the queen expelled officials of the abbey and a few of the nuns themselves. ^Elfthryth then controlled the Barking estates for about twenty years. See Meyer, 'Women and the Tenth-Century English Monastic Reform', pp. 51-55; Fisher, 'Anti-Monastic Reaction', pp. 254-70; and C. R. Hart, 'Two Queens of England', Ample forth Journal 82 (1977), pp.10-15, 54.

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tenure was dependent on her good will.94 To treat monastic land as personal property was certainly not unheard of among the Anglo-Saxons. Although the queen's motives for founding the two nunneries at Amesbury and Wherwell are difficult to untangle, ^Elfthryth was clearly concerned with extending her influence and consolidating her power during the early years of ^thelrsed's reign.95 The history of these abbeys, which were located in the important West Saxon dioceses of Ramsbury and Winchester, sheds further light on the political situation of the 980s as well as providing additional testimony for the composition of the queen's estate. The Anglo-Saxon evidence relating to the lands of Amesbury and Wherwell is unfortunately scarce, but what can be gathered from it and Domesday Book indicates that the queen founded both abbeys on large estates she obtained by virtue of her status as queen. In 979 yElfthryth established Amesbury nunnery in a royal borough that for centuries the West Saxon kings had included in the royal itinerary.96 The town was evidently as important a location for central Wessex as Glastonbury was for the westernmost part of the kingdom. Amesbury probably descended to vElfthryth directly from Eadgifu who received the estate from Eadred.97 94. In the mid 980s, young King ^thelrajd himself founded the abbey at Cholsey perhaps for similar reasons. See Knowles and Haddock, Monastic Houses, p. 62. 95. The queen occasionally exhibits a genuine interest in the monastic reform movement that stems undoubtedly from her first husband's activities. Before her marriage to Edgar in 964, she helped persuade the king to grant an estate at Stoke near Ipswich to Bishop ^Ethelwold of Winchester which eventually went to Ely Abbey, Sawyer 781. ^Elfthryth remained a patron of Ely throughout her life, and according to the Book of Ely, Liber Eliensis, ed. E. O. Blake, (London, 1962), p. 105, she first gave to the abbey five hides at Holland, Essex (not far from Stoke), which had been willed to her by Queen Eadgifu, Edgar's paternal grandmother. Queen ^Ifthryth requested a translation of the Rule of St. Benedict for nuns in exchange for the estate, Liber Eliensis, p. 111. 96. A grant purported to have been issued by ^Ethelrxd is recorded in the proceedings of the exchequer of 1423. The exchequer account included a confirmation of title to the site of the abbey and other unnamed possessions and the right of the nuns to elect their own abbess with the consent of the bishop: '[The king grants the abbess and convent] monasterim predictum, cum omnibus possessionibus et pertinenciis suis, per nomen loci cujusdam monasterialis vulgari usu ob circumjacentis vicinitatem ville regalis act Ambresbyrig agnominati cum omnibus que ad eundem sanctum loicum rite pertinere dinoscuntur, ut omni mundiali jugo eternaliter liberrime Christi Jhesu semper subjaceat arbitrio. [Further concession that] post ejusdem Heahpled vite terminum religiosa familia ibidem optineat libertatem juxta regule sancte statutum, cum sui testimonio pontificis cujus diocesi subjacet locus, ut inter se eligant, si talis forte inveniatur, quam sibimet preponant, et quod pretitulatum monasterium cum villulis sibi subjects et omnibus ad se jure attinentibus maneant eterne libertatis securissimum privilegio . . . .' For a discussion of the reconstructed text, see Finberg, The Early Charters of Wessex, p. 104. Owing to the lack of additional Anglo-Saxon evidence, DB becomes the major source for the description of Amesbury's landed wealth prior to the Norman Conquest. Because of its royal connections Amesbury was never assessed for geld, but there were forty ploughlands recorded for the manor in DB. King William was regarded as the tenant-in-chief of Amesbury, DB, i, fo. 64b. Two small holdings of the earl of Salisbury DB, i, fos. 69, 69b, and two hides given to the nunnery of Wilton by Edward the Confessor DB, i, fo. 64, made up the entire estate of Amesbury. For a detailed discussion of Anglo-Saxon and Anglo-Norman Amesbury, see R. B. Pugh, 'The Early History of the Manors in Amesbury', Wiltshire Archaeological Magazine 52 (1947), pp. 70-110. 97. King Alfred left Amesbury to his son j£thelweard who died in 921, Sawyer 1507. Eadred later obtained it and subsequently bequeathed the estate to his mother Eadgifu, Sawyer 1515.

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In all likelihood, Bulford, Boscombe, Choulston in Figheldean and Allington also belonged to queen as pre-Conquest appendages to the royal manor of Amesbury.98 The origin of the abbey's Domesday estates in Berkshire is unknown; it is possible that they too once comprised a part of vElfthryth's landed estate." The foundation of Wherwell in 986 offers more substantial evidence for the queen's estate than does that of Amesbury. The abbey's cartulary includes an Anglo-Saxon charter purporting to be a general confirmation of lands and privileges issued in 1002 by King ^Ethelrasd on the occasion of his mother's death.100 The abbey was to have Wherwell vill itself, which 'while [yElfthryth] lived she possessed it and applied herself diligently to build it up'. The 'various lands' adjacent to Wherwell, mentioned but not detailed in the charter, were indubitably located in the hundred of Welford, which was entirely held by the abbey in 1066.101 Furthermore, seventy mansae in different places and sixty cassati at &thelingdene, 'which the aforesaid queen, as long as she possessed a spark of life, kept for her own proper use', are also mentioned.102 The charter explicitly states these lands were the queen's property, and were granted in perpetuum to Wherwell only after JEthelrsed became his mother's heir.103 WherwelPs endowment was mainly derived from the queen's estate, 98. Although they are not mentioned in the exchequer document, the manors are entered separately in the Great Survey, DB, i, fo. 68b. Amesbury's other Wiltshire manors were located at Winterslow, Maddington and Rabson Farm in Winterbourne Basset, DB, i, fo. 68. In regards to Rabson Farm, it may be recalled that ./Elflasd, wife of Edward the Elder, held an adjacent estate at Winterbourne Monkton, which she bequeathed to Glastonbury Abbey. It is likely that the two Winterbournes at one time formed a single large manor that was broken up in the mid tenth century, with only a portion of it remaining in the hands of the queen. Yet this parcel of land was too wilfully alienated when ^Elfthryth founded Amesbury. 99. West Callow, Great Fawley, a church and its glebe land at Letcombe Regis, and a manor at Kintbury were held by the abbess of Amesbury, DB, i, fos. 57b, 60. The first three estates are located near King Edward's manors at Letcombe Basset and Wantage, whose association with the Anglo-Saxon queens can be traced back to Ealhswith and Eadgifu. Altogether the assessment of Amesbury's Anglo-Saxon estate was valued at approximately £53 10s. The hide assessment had been reduced from sixty-one hides and one virgate T. R. E. to forty-nine and a half hides and one virgate in 1086. 100. '. . . a vicinitate fontis act Werewelle appellare consueverunt, cum villulis quaevel praescripto arcisterio, vel villae, [ut praediximus] subjacent cucumpositae, quae utriusque portio tota pariter in unam collecta quantitatem, . . . et ... quod loci accolae Edlingedene cognominant, cassatorum sexaginta, quod et ipsa praedicta regina quamdiu spiraculo vitae potita est sibimet in usis usurpavit proprios . . .' Sawyer 904. This charter is bound in British Library, MS Egerton 2104, a cartulary containing mainly land documents of the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries. There is also a brief narrative history of the abbey from its foundation by jElfthryth down to 1261 (fols. 43-45). For a discussion of Sawyer 904 in its diplomatic context, see Simon Keynes, The Diplomas of King jEtkelred (Cambridge, 1982), pp. 104-8, 133-34 and 258. 101. The estates in the hundred included Goodworth, Little Anne, Middleton and Tufton, DB, i, fo. 44. 102. There is now no telling where the seventy hides may have been located. Conversely, the sixty hides of the estate of ALthelingedene indicate it had been a royal manor. A. Mawer and F. M. Stenton, Place-Names of Sussex, 2 (Cambridge, 1969), p. xlv, rightly suggest the estate is East and West Dean, which at the time of DB had been incorporated into Earl Godwine's larger manor of Singleton, DB, i, fo. 23. 103. A postscript dated 1008 further stipulates a grant of ten hides at Bullington, Hampshire, (continued)

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but Bishop JEthelwold, a man noted for his concern for nuns and nunneries, perhaps supplied Wherwell with a few manors out of the stock of land used to support monastic and cathedral communities under his jurisdiction.104 Working in conjunction with the reform party at Winchester, ^Elfthryth strengthened her political position by founding Amesbury and Wherwell. Tor the salvation of my soul' is a formula usually found in Anglo-Saxon land charters and certainly reveals one of the legitimate reasons why people gave property to religious houses. If contemporary sources are to be believed, the queen was in dire need of any spiritual assistance she might be able to conjure up, for according to tradition yElfthryth established the two nunneries in expiation for her complicity in the deaths of her first husband and her step-son. The queen's motives were undoubtedly more complicated than what contemporary monastic chroniclers and interested sources would suggest. That royal consorts such as ^Ifthryth were active patrons of monasteries tended to dissipate the cumulative wealth of queens. Although little is known of Queen Eadgyth's undertaking at Wilton Abbey in the 1060s, she did finance the replacement of wooden structures by stone. She, of course, could afford to assume such obligations. Queen Eadgyth also endowed Wilton with a number of estates in Sussex, which the abbey lost during the chaotic period following Edward's death in January 1066. West Firle, Arlington, Alciston and Palmer all seem to have been granted to the nuns by their most powerful alumna; for whatever reason, William the Conqueror did not confirm Wilton's possession

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that seems to have been ^Ethelred's contribution to the nuns and an additional bequest of twenty-nine burghal tenements in Winchester, which by 1066 had increased to thirty-one, DB, i, fo. 44. Wherwell's burghal property was entirely within the walls, and in all probability was derived from ^Ifthryth's holdings in the city. According to the 1148 survey of the borough, these properties formed two principle groups: one in Scowrtenestret and another in Flesmangerestret. The abbey does not seem to have increased its burghal holdings during the post-Conquest period, so that it was probably granted its burghal property prior to the early eleventh century. For details, see Winchester in the Early Middle Ages, pp. 341, 356. The 'Winchester Survey' of 1148 also indicates that one group of the abbess's tenements included a church, ii, 511, which may represent an early subdivision of the abbess's two groups of apartments into parish-like districts. This church may have originated as a chapel of the abbess's townhouse, for which see the map on p. 324 that shows the Wherwell tenement group on Flesmangerestret. 104. jEthelwold is known to have visited the monastic houses for both men and women and made various provisions so the religious could act in accord with common monastic custom, ^Elfric's 'Life of St. jEthelwold', Chronicon monasterii de Abingdon, 2, pp. 262-63. He was also noted for his fine business sense and probably did have a hand in the foundation of Wherwell. The bishop was certainly involved in the refoundation of Romsey in 967, for this abbey's confirmation charter, Sawyer 812, exhibits diplomatic characteristics similar to ^Ethelwold's Orthodoxorum charters, on which see Eric John, Orhis Britanniae (Leicester, 1964), p. 199. The use of characteristic Abingdon formulae in the Romsey charter points to the possibility that it was drawn up at the request and with the cognisance of the bishop of Winchester. Romsey, the Nunnaminster in Winchester and Wherwell — all in the diocese of Winchester — attracted the bishop's attention. See Meyer, 'Women and the Tenth-Century English Monastic Reform', p. 56ff.

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of these manors but granted them to the count of Eu.105 Considerable as the queen's landed possessions in Hampshire and the Isle of Wight were, her holdings there — as might well be suggested for other shires of Wessex — were also conditioned by the presence of the royal nunneries. The royal foundations in the heartland of Wessex were wealthier by far than the other few still in existence in the mid eleventh century. Shaftesbury and Wilton were among the richest monastic houses in England.106 The large endowments maintained throughout Wessex by the nunneries was a product of West Saxon royal policy that can be traced back to the reign of Alfred the Great. Using religious houses to enhance the royal authority in such regions and to promote the prestige of the dynasty was viewed as necessary and politic. The six West Saxon nunneries together held estates in some fourteen shires in 1066, yet nearly 80 per cent of their lands lay in Dorset, Hampshire, and Wiltshire — shires in which Queen Eadgyth held a total of about 168 hides, which accounts for approximately 17 per cent of the total assessment of her estate. Wiltshire, for example, supported the largest composite endowment of any shire for the nunneries: Shaftesbury, Wilton and Amesbury controlling some 548 hides, which account for 30 per cent of ecclesiastical land and an amazing 14 per cent of the T.R.E. hide assessment for the entire shire. The extent of Queen Eadgyth's estate in the heartland of Wessex was undoubtedly affected by the amount of land that had been given to royal nunneries by her royal predecessors. This is not to suggest that she necessarily would have assumed possession of those manors had they not ended up as a part of a monastic estate. Wilful alienation was not the only means by which the estate of AngloSaxon queens were affected. That a drastic change in the fortunes of Queen Eadgifu took place at the beginning of Eadwig's reign is substantiated not only by the narrative sources referring to her banishment and the confiscation of her lands in 956 but by the absence of her attestations on his charters.107 When Eadred died in late November 955, Eadwig succeeded to the throne of Wessex 105. Eadgyth's special affection for the nuns of Wilton developed because she was educated there as a young girl, as revealed in The Life of King Edward the Confessor, ed. and trans. Frank Barlow (London, 1962), pp. 45-48. In addition to the estates already mentioned, for which see DB, i, fos. 18b, 19, 19b and 21, Eadgyth undoubtedly engineered a grant of two hides from the royal manor of Amesbury to the abbess of Wilton, which the Confessor allowed 'in his [last] infirmity', DB, i, fo. 64b. This land may indeed have been given to the abbey when Eadgyth's sister Gunhildr became a nun there in 1065, William of Malmesbury, Life of St. Wulfstan, ed. J. H. F. Peile (Oxford, 1934), p. 34. 106. The wealthiest and hence most powerful of the late Anglo-Saxon nunneries were Shaftesbury, Wilton, Barking, Romsey, Amesbury, the Nunnaminster and Wherwell, all of which were founded or reformed by kings and queens during the tenth century. Other abbeys and houses for women associated with monasteries for monks dotting the English landscape during the eleventh century can be located at Chichester, Chatteris, Leominster, Minister-in-Sheppy, Minister-in-Thanet, Mailing, Exeter, St. Albans, Polesworth and Berkeley — all of which were ancient foundations that had experienced periods of discontinuity. Yet the lack of a substantial endowment also made it extremely difficult for such communities to survive the effects of the Norman Conquest. Indeed, many of them did not. 107. During the reign of Eadwig, the dowager witnessed only a spurious grant to Abingdon, Sawyer 658.

102

The Culture of Christendom

and soon afterwards was accepted as king in Mercia and Northumbria.108 However ill-conceived and badly-timed his policies, Eadwig moved toward independence from the old guard by associating himself more closely with that branch of the West Saxon royal family which provided him with a wife. The descendants of King ^fkhelrsed seemingly in turn used the young man as a means to reverse their fallen fortune. The story of Eadwig's licentious behaviour at his coronation feast on 26 January 956 and subsequent marriage to ^Ifgifu added fuel to an already explosive situation. As Dunstan and his supporters correctly pointed out, ^Elfgifu was a blood relative of the king who could trace her lineage to ^thelrzed I. That the marriage of Eadwig and jElfgifu was not immediately dissolved on the grounds of consanguinity, as it was to be in 958, indicates ^Ethelraed's descendants were initially successful in establishing themselves at court. This circumstance caused considerable distress in many circles, including that of Queen Eadgifu. Eadwig buttressed his position in Wessex and the Thames Valley by favouring those men he knew to be loyal and by elevating new men to the rank of thegn or minister. The consequences of the latter action were only made clear at the end of the year, by which time the king had engineered an upheaval at court. By late 956 Dunstan was living in exile and Eadgifu had been banished from court and her estates confiscated. Eadgifu's party seemingly disapproved of the king's new favourites and his wife's family connections. It became necessary to curtail the old queen's influence.109 Eadgifu may have retired to her family estates in Kent while her grandson Edgar remained at his brother's court. But Eadwig's policies and his dismissal of Dunstan and others caused a rebellion north of the Thames that even Eadwig's generous donations of land could not forestall. In the late summer or early autumn of 957 Edgar was elevated to the Mercian throne and the Northumbrians soon followed suit by accepting him as their king. The matter of a divided kingdom and Eadgifu's misfortunes was conveniently settled in October 959: Eadwig's premature death eliminated any further tensions, while in that year Edgar the Peaceful gained the throne of all England. He immediately recalled Dunstan and made him bishop of Worcester and London, sees which he briefly held in plurality until installed as archbishop of Canterbury in 960. Edgar also restored the landed possessions of Eadgifu, now nearing the end of her life. The dowager queen never assumed the prominent position at court she had held a few years before, making her last recorded public appearance in Winchester at the christening of ^Ifthryth's and Edgar's son Edmund in 966. Although she had been despoiled of her property, Eadgifu's setback proved to be only temporary; nor did some other queens suffer permanent harm when

108. Auctore B, Vita, Dunstani, in Memorials of St. Dunstan, ed. William Stubbs, RS, 63 (London, 1874), c. 21. 109. Osbern, Vita Sancti Dunstani, p. 99, writes: ' Nee solum alienis ab ejus cognatione illius obfuit crudelitas, verum etiam Neronis Casesaris more in homines sua stirpe oriundos, in ipsam puoque regum matrem reginam Eadgivam sua dementia debacchari'.

The Queen's 'Demesne' in Later Anglo-Saxon England

103

their lands were confiscated. When the political dust settled and a woman was reinstated at court, most if not all of her manors were returned. The very fact they had been appropriated and that certain estates were no longer in the queen's hands — however brief the period of time might have been — affected the continuous growth and development of a so-called queen's demesne. Eadgifu was certainly not the only royal consort robbed of her estates in late Anglo-Saxon England. ./Elfgifu-Emma was despoiled of her property when she was forced into exile as King Harold I solidified his hold over England in 1036, and again when Edward assumed the throne in 1043.110 After only a brief period of disgrace, she was allowed to remain in Winchester and to live off a suitable allowance.111 The dowager queen may have maintained control of many of her estates, even if she did forfeit some of her possessions. For example, King Edward granted her rights of sake and soke in the Thingoe hundreds as well as her estate at Mildenhall to Bury St. Edmund's immediately after her fall in 1043.112 Queen Eadgyth was also despoiled of her properties and packed off to the nunnery at Wherwell when her father and brothers were outlawed during their feud with King Edward in 1051. She was more fortunate than Edward's mother, for most, if not all of Eadgyth's estates were returned after the crisis of 1051 had ended. Edward's wife had the continued support of the most powerful family in England, whereas Queen ^Elfgifu-Emma commanded little influence beyond a close circle of friends. The well-known tale about Eadburh, the ill-fated daughter of King Offa of Mercia (757-96),113 suggests how far the status of later royal consorts had risen during the tenth and eleventh centuries. When the kings of Wessex had reversed the disasters wrought by the Viking invasions and conquests, the position of the king's wife had been considerably strengthened. By the time royal consorts were crowned 'queen' with some regularity, most of these women had already attained substantial influence throughout the kingdom. Yet the elevated status derived from consecration added to the queen's prestige: and during the 970s,

110. See F. Barlow, 'Two Notes: Cnut's Second Pilgrimage and Queen Emma's Disgrace in 1043', EHR 73 (1958), pp. 649ff. 111. ASC (D), s.a. 1043. The dowager queen also resumed witnessing Edward's charters in late 1043, and continued to do so until the king's marriage to Eadgyth in January 1045. For those charters, which vary in authenticity, see Sawyer 998-1002, 1006, 1228, 1391, 1471 and 1530. 112. See Anglo-Saxon Writs, ed. F. E. Harmer (Manchester, 1952), pp. 145-47. F. Barlow, in Edward the Confessor (Berkeley, 1970), p. 77, suggests that the Thingoe hundreds were returned to the queen, but a later writ, Sawyer 1084, issued to Abbot Baldwin of Bury St. Edmunds does not really support this interpretation. 113. The story, told to Asser by King Alfred himself, relates that Eadburh, the wife of King Beorhtric (786-802), was crowned queen at the insistence of her father. However, she allegedly poisoned her husband, afterwards fleeing to the court of Charlemagne where she ran into further difficulties, Asser, Life of King Alfred, cc. 13, 14, 15 and 17. The king apparently retold the story to his biographer to explain why the West Saxons had no consecrated 'queens'. For an interesting and perceptive study on this subject, see Stafford, 'The King's Wife', pp. 3-27.

104

The Culture of Christendom

the extension of the power and influence of the queen was facilitated by that provision of the Regularis concordia, whereby the king's wife was appointed the special patroness of the nuns. General historical conditions stemming from a revitalised alliance between monarchy and church and West Saxon political expansion and consolidation after the cataclysm of the ninth century all favoured the growth and development of the institution of queenship. The queen's status was, of course, dependent on the power of her kindred, her relationship with the king, and how many healthy sons she bore. In an age when the possession of land meant not only wealth but also power and authority, the queen's position was also tied directly to the extent and value of her estates. For women such as Queen Eadgyth who were unable — or unwilling — to bear children, extensive property holdings were undoubtedly more critical to their position in the realm than to those royal consorts whose fertility and desire were amply manifested by the number of sethelings they bore.114 It cannot be expected that the composition of the queen's landed estate would remain static over the two centuries considered here. The consolidation of England begun by King Alfred and brought to fruition under his successors of the tenth century, the monastic reform movement, various economic and social changes that accompanied a revitalised economy and urban development, and the Danish and Norman conquests of the eleventh century all affected the position of the queen and the material basis on which her status rested. Queenship became an institution of the first order in the Anglo-Saxon polity. Royal wives and widows certainly received preferential treatment at the hands of their spouses and offspring, thereby accumulating estates generally much larger than those maintained by other noblewomen. Yet the same circumstances that allowed queens to exercise more power and influence and to accumulate such sizeable estates also worked against the continuous development of an entity that may commonly be referred to as a queens' demesne. That many Anglo-Saxon royal consorts and consecrated queens possessed extensive estates does not presuppose the existence of demesne lands as such; nor is there firm evidence to suggest the Anglo-Saxons themselves recognised its existence beyond the fact that a few estates and burghal properties were held by successive queens. There was certainly fluctuation in the composition of the king's holdings, as well as those maintained by aethelings, ealdorman and earls. The manifest discontinuity evinced in the estates of some eleven queens who reigned during the late ninth through the eleventh centuries speaks against the proposition that a so-called queen's demesne actually existed.

114. On the importance of male offspring of royal consorts, see David Dumville, The jEtheling: A study in Anglo Saxon Constitutional History', Anglo-Saxon England, 8 (1979), pp. 1-33, and Pauline Stafford, 'Sons and Mothers: Family Politics in the Early Middle Ages', in Medieval Women, ed. Derek Baker (Oxford, 1978), pp 79-100.

The Queen's 'Demesne' in Later Anglo-Saxon England

105

Appendix Queens' Estates in Later Anglo-Saxon England

The following table lists those properties, and occasionally areas of jurisdiction, maintained by royal consorts and queens from 871-1083. The table does not immediately reflect from whom or by what means the women obtained them; however, occasionally this can be ascertained by examining the source of information. Information has been gathered from Domesday Book, charters, writs, wills, and other documents to which reference has been made in the column labelled 'source'. Following the organization Domesday Book, which serves as an initial basis for the table, the queens' lands have been detailed according to 'estates by shire'. The names of Anglo-Saxon royal boroughs have been capitalized. The 'assessment of area' is given in hides, carucates and sulungs and parts thereof. The 'assessment of value' for individual estates held in 1066 (T.R.E.) by Queens Ealdgyth and Eadgyth are provided when recorded by the Domesday scribes. Queen Matilda's lands have been assessed according to their value in 1086 (T.R.W.), and when possible for the time she received them. If no pre-Conquest value was recorded by the Domesday scribes for an estate held by Queen Eadgyth in 1066, the value for 1086 is provided below and has been noted by '#'. Estates of either Eadgyth or Matilda that were subsequently held by King William at the time of the Domesday survey are indicated by ' + '. Property held by another individual of a queen is indicated by '::~'. Numbered columns in the table show which queen held a particular property based on the source of information previously mentioned. The following women are represented: (1) Matilda, wife of William I; (2) Ealdgyth, wife of Harold; (3) Eadgyth, wife of the Confessor; (4) vElfgifu-Emma, wife of ^thelrasd and Cnut; (5) .^Elfthryth, wife of Edgar; (6) .^Elfgifu, wife of Eadwig; (7) ^thelfla^d of Damerham, wife of Edmund; (8) ^Elfgifu, wife of Edmund; (9) Eadgifu, wife of Edward the Elder; (10) ^Ifflsed, wife of Edward the Elder; and (11) Ealhswith, wife of Alfred the Great. 'Tenant-in-chiefs' T.R.E., other than Queens Ealdgyth and Eadgyth, are also given. The following abbreviations appear in the 'source' column of this appendix: as ED, Joseph Hunter, Ecclesiastical Documents, Camden Society (1840); as S, Peter H. Sawyer, ed., Anglo-Saxon Charters (London, 1968); as 1C, Index Chartarum /, a list of the contents of a lost Glastonbury cartulary, in Cambridge, Trinity College, 105

The Culture of Christendom

106

R. 5. 33, fol. 77rv (s. xiii), and printed by T. Hearne, Johannis . . . Glastoniensis Chronica sive Historia de rebus Glastoniensibus, 2 vols. (Oxford, 1726), 370-75; as DB, Domesday Book; as LE, Liber Eliensis, ed. E.O. Blake, Royal Historical Society, Camden Third series 92, (1962); as SD, Simeon of Durham, Historia Regum, ed. T. Arnold, RS, 2 (London, 1885); as Reg, Regesta Regum Anglo-Normannorum, I, 1066-1100, eds. H.W.C. Davis and R.J. Whitwell, (Oxford, 1913); as ECW, H.P.R. Finberg, The Early Charters of Wessex, (Leicester, 1964); as VO, 'Vita Oswaldi', in J. Raine, The Historians of the Church of York and its Archbishops I, RS, pp. 399-475; as WD, 'Winton Domesday', in Winchester in the Early Middle Ages, ed. Martin Biddle, Winchester Studies 1 (Oxford, 1976); as CA, Chronicon Monasterii de Abingdon, ed. J. Stevenson, RS, 2 vols. (London, 1858); as HC, The Chronicle of Hugh Candidus, ed. W.T. Mellows, (Oxford, 1949); as ASCh, A.J. Robertson, ed., Anglo-Saxon Charters, 2nd edition, (Cambridge, 1956); as LDE, Gaimar, L'estoire des Engleis, ed. A. Bell, Anglo-Norman Text Society, (1960, reprinted New York, 1971); as BN, An Ancient Manuscript, ed. W. de Gray Birch (London, 1889); as AW, 'Annales Monasterii de Wintonia,' in Annales Monastici, vol. 2, ed. H.R. Luard, RS (London, 1865).

THE TABLE

ESTATES BY SHIRE

SOURCE

ASSESSMENT AREA/VALUE

1

2

3

4

5

QUEEN 6 7

8

9

1 01 1

TENANT-IN-CHIEF T.R.E.

BERKSHIRE +Waltham +Warfield +Wargrave +Remenham +Wimerbourne Wittenham WALUNGFORD Carswell 'Burley' 1

'Burley Shottesbrook Aston Upthorpe Cholsey READING Lam bourn Wantage

8 10 33 12 5 20

12 12 31 15 6 20

5 1

4 1

1 7 10

7

9s

30s

DB, DB, DB, DB, DB, DB, DB, DB, DB,

X X X X X Xs X X X X*

i, 56b i, 57 i, 57; S 1062 i, 57 i, 58 i, 60 i, 60 i, 63b i, 63b

DB, i, 63b DB, i, 63b 5725 S 877, 1494 DB, i, 60 5 1507, 1494 5 1507, 1515

Lank held of Q

X* X* X X X

X X X

X X

/Elfward held of Q, jElfgifu held TRE ^Ifgifu held of Kg Award's father held of Q ^Ifgifu Kg Edward & ^Imaer Abbess Leofgifu Kg Edward & 2 thegns Kg Edward & Bishop of Lichfield

BUCKINGHAMSHIRE Hughenden Great Marlow Worminghall Simpson Ludgershall Lower Winchendon Wycombe Amersham Eton Little Marlow Hambleden Steeple Claydon Chesham

Milton Keynes Shortley

10 5 5 8 3v 9 10 10 7 2v 12 15 20 20 4

8 2v 4

7 4 7 8 6 12 12 16 6 25 15 11 5

8 3

DB, i, 144b DB, i, 4b DB, i, 5 DB, i, 5 DB, i, 5 DB, i, 7 DB, i, 149 DB, i, 149b DB, i, 151 DB, i, 152b DB, i, 152b DB, i, 153 DB, i, 153 S1484 DB, i, 153 DB, i, 153

X X X* X X* X'f X'' X X

Eadgifu held of Q Eadgifu held of Q Eadgyth held of Q Brictric held of Q

X X

Earl jElfgar Earl ,£lfgar X X X X"

X

Brictric 8c others, Alfsi held post-TRE Wulfward, Alfsi held post-TRE

The Queen's 'Demesne' in Later Anglo-Saxon England ESTATES BY SHIRE

ASSESSMENT AREA/VALUE

SOURCE 1

2

3

4

BUCKINGHAMSHIRE Maswortn Linslade Prince Risborough Bledlow Whaddon Wing

10

Haversham

5

QUEEN 6 7 8

9

1 01 1

TENANT-IN-CHIEF T.R.E.

(continiud)

S 1484 S 737, 1484 S 1484 S 1484 X1484 S 1484

X X X X X X

S 1484

X

Brictric & Kg's thegn ^Ifwin, Q's man Earl Harold Eadmer, Kg's thegn Edward, Kg's thegn Edward, Kg's thegn & Harold's man Gytha, w of Ralph

CAMBRIDGESHIRE Wooditton Cheveley Ely Stapleford

S 1483 S 1486 LE, 2:31,43 5572

1 15

X X X X

Ely, then Stigand Horwulf Ely Ely

CORNWALL -KConnerton' + Coswarth +Binnerton +Trevalga +Carworgie Landinner + Landinner +Trebeigh

7 1 3v 8 1 Iv If 2v

DB, i, 120 DB, i, 120 DB, i, 120 DB, i, 120 DB, i, 120 DB, i, 121b DB, i, 100,100b see Landinner

12 3 10 4 7s 10s 12s

X X X X X

Brictric Brictric Brictric Brictric Brictric X X X

DERBYSHIRE Markeaton

1 4c

3

1

x

DB, i, 275

DEVONSHIRE +EXETER + LIFTON + Kenton + North Molton +Wonfort +Northlew + Halwill + Clovelly + Bideford -t-Littleham + Langtree H-Iddesleigh + N. Tawton 100 + Winkleigh +Ashreigney + Lapford + Irishcombe -t-High Bickington + Langley + Morchard Bishop 4-Holcombe Burnell + Halberton + Ash P rington VDown' St. Mary Northam Ashridge Bideford Sampford Peverell

property in 4v 3 1 2v 2v 1 Iv 3 3 1 2 3 2v 5 2v 2 2 2v Iv 1 2v 2v 1 5 3 2v 2|v

3 2v

15# 30# 45# 18# 9 70s 12 16 3 7 5s 14 30 7 12 12s 12 4 4 8 15s 27 10s 4 10s ,2

10

DB, i, 100

SD, sa. 1003 DB, i, lOOb DB, i, lOOb DB, i, lOOb DB, i, lOOb DB, i, 101 DB, i, 101 DB, i, 101 DB, i, 101 DB, i, 101 DB, i, lOlb DB, i, lOlb see Iddesleigh DB, i, lOlb DB, i, lOlb DB, i, lOlb see Lapford DB, i, lOlb see Bickington DB, i, l O l b DB, i, lOlb DB, i, lOlb DB, i, lOlb DB, i, lOlb DB, i, 104 Keg, i, 105 see Northam DB, i, 113

X X X X X

107

X*

& others

X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X" X

Brictric Brictric Brictric Brictric Brictric Brictric Brictric Brictric Brictric Brictric Brictric Brictric Brictric Brictric Brictric Brictric Brictric Brictric Boia

X X X

Brictric Brictric

108 ESTATES BY SHIRE

The Culture of Christendom ASSESSMENT AREA/VALUE

SOURCE 1

2

3

4

QUEEN 6 7 8

5

9

1 01 1

TENANT-IN-CHIEF T.R.E.

DORSET +Frome St. Quintin 13 18 + Cranborne 10 30 +Ashmore 8 15 +Edmondsham 2 3 +Hampreston 2 Iv 50s +Witchampton 4 2v 5 2v 4 + WIMBORNE Minster +Wey 1 2v 30s 1 2v 30s + Langton Herring 3 2v 5 + Tarrant' 2v 10s +Tarrant Gunville 3 Iv 4 +Tarrant Rushton + 'Scetre' 5 6 2 2v 25s + Nutford 1 15s +Watercombe 43 89 10s# Sherborne

DB, DB, DB, DB, DB, DB, DB, DB, DB, DB, DB, DB, DB, DB, DB, DB,

i, 75b i, 75b i, 75b i, 75b i, 75b i, 75b i, 75b i, 75b i, 75b i, 75b i, 75b i, 75b i, 75b i, 75b i, 75b i, 77

30

Purbeck

S 534 8c see Corfe Castle S534 VO, p. 448 5 474, 742 27 /C, i, p. 372 S 1484 see Damerham, HA S 513 see Buckland & see Buckland 1C, ii, p. 376 S 1719 see Buckland

Gussage Pentridge Plush Okeford Fitzpaine

Brictric Brictric Brictric Doda Saul 2 thegns Odo the Treasurer yfclfwin yElfward Colling ^Ifric ^Ifwin 2 thegns Wulfgeat ^Ifric ^Ifric pre-T.R.E., bishop /tlfwold of London Kg's thegns ^lfma:r & ^Ethelfriih

x~X

ECW, 621

Piddle Trenthide

Corfe Castle in Kingston Buckland Newton

X X X X X X X Xs X1:" X* X* X* X* X"

X

8

X

Shaftesbury

X X

X X X

Glastonbury Azor & Eadma;r Glastonbury

X X

Glastonbury

ESSEX +Shaiford +Finchingfield +Childerditch Felsted Little Birch Middleton Colchester Rivenhall Chesterford Little Bromley Wix Belchamp Holland Woodham Fingringhoe Peldon West Mersea

Greenstead Baythorn Wickford Donyland

5 Iv 22 2 2v 18 1 2v 4 4 30 2v 1 2v property 2 2v 5 2 5

1 1 in 9 5 5 6 10s

6

10 8

DB, ii, 3b DB, ii, 4 DB, ii, 5 DB, ii, 21b Reg, i, 149 DB, ii, 93b DB, ii, 98 DB, ii, 106b DB, ii, 27 DB, ii, 54 DB, ii, 87 DB, ii, 54, 87 S 1521 LE, p. 105 S 1486, 1494 51494 S 1483, 1494 5 1483, 1494

5 S 5 5

X X X

Earl ^Ifgar Earl yElfgar Earl Harold

X X X X

Earl ^Ifgar Wulfward Earl -Eifgar ^Ifgifu X X X X X X X

X X X X X

X X X X

1483, 1494 1483 1494 1494

Wulfwin Leofstan Leofgifu Earl Harold Thorkell Holy Trinity, Canterbury & St. Ouen, Rouen Gothild & Godric Ingvar freemen & others freemen 8c others

GLOUCESTERSHIRE CIRENCESTER +TEWKESBURY +Marshfield +Thornbury +Clifford Chambers +Wincot +Twyning +Fairford Iron Acton Wickwar

queen's wool a market!® Us 14 35 11 50# 7 6 3 2 2 2v 35s 20 51 10s# 2 2v 2 4 12

DB, DB, DB, DB, DB, DB, DB, DB, DB, DB,

i, 162b i, 163 i, 163 i, 163b i, 163b i, 163b i, 163b i, 163b, 164 i, 170 i, 170

X X

X X

X X X X X X X

Brictric Brictric a thegn 4 villani Brictric Harold 3 men of Brictric

The Queen's 'Demesne' in Later Anglo-Saxon England ESTATES BY SHIRE

ASSESSMENT AREA/VALUE

SOURCE 1

2

3

4

5

QUEEN 6 7

8

9

1 01 1

109

TENANT-IN-CHIEF T.R.E.

HAMPSHIRE + Anstey +Greatham +Selborne + Mapledurham + Upton -t-Wootton (Wight) Alton Kingsclcre Hayling Penron Crafton Tunsworth Candover Shoddesden WINCHESTER

Wherwell Goodworth Little Anne Middleton Tufton Crux Easton Damerham Martin Meon Basing

5 1

50s 3

12s 13 31 1 4 1 3# 10 6 4 Iv 7 12 15 10 3 10 3 3 2 2v 4 1 15s property in

10 100 see Damerham 80

DB, i, 38 DB, i, 38 DB, i, 38 DB, i, 38 DB, i, 38b DB, i, 40 DB, i, 43 DB, i, 43 DB, i, 43b S 1153, 1476 DB, i, 43b DB, i, 45 DB, i, 49b DB, i, 50 5904,925, 1153, 1560, BN, p. 96 WD, 1 :23, 75 S904 5904 5904 5904 5904 CA, i, p. 286-87 5513, 1494 S513 S811 5 1515

X X X Xs"

Wulfgifu X X X X

Wulfward held of Q

X* X X X* X* X*

Alfred held of Q Osbern held of Q Agemund held of Q

X X X X X X X X X

X

X X X X

various Wherwell Wherwell Wherwell Wherwell Wherwell 2 men of Kg Edward Glastonbury bishop of Winchester Altei of Kg Edward

HEREFORDSHIRE ^Stanford + Leominster

+ Martley Much Marcle Leinthall Halmonds

4 5 80 83 2s w/ 16 estates held separately 10 Iv 1 4 50s 4 3

DB, i, 180

X

DB, DB, DB, DB, DB,

X X X X X

i, 180 i, 180b i,182b, 185b i, 183b i, 184

HERTFORDSHIRE Broadfield Hoddesdon Welwyn Hadham Hatfield Berkhampstead

2v 6 2

10s 4 10s 6

DB, i, 137b DB, i, 139, 142 DB, i, 140 5 1494, 1795 5 1484 5 1484

X*

xa-

X" X X X

Code held of Q Code held of Q Code & son held of Q Ely, bp of London Ely Earl Harold

HUNTINGDONSHIRE Fletton Waterville Orton Alwalton Hemingford Grey

HC, p. 20 HC, p. 20 HC, p. 20 5997, 1106

X X X

Peterborough Peterborough, Godwin Peterborough Ramsey & others

X

KENT CANTERBURY Newington Brabourne Evegate Nackington Chalk 'Wirigenn'

various rights /is 40 3 2v 3 2v 3 3 1

DB, i, 2 DB, i, 14b 5877 5877 5 877 5877 5 877

X X" X X X X X

Sigar held of Q Godric held of Kg Goda held of Kg archbp of Canterbury

The Culture of Christendom

110 ESTATES BY SHIRE

SOURCE

ASSESSMENT AREA/VALUE

1

2

3

4

5

QUEEN 6 7 8

9

1 01 1

TENANT-IN-CHIEF T.R.E.

KENT (continued) booklands in Kent Cooling

S 1515 5 1211

X X

'Osterland' Meopham Lenham East Farleigh Monkton East Pecham Aldington Northminster in Thanet

51211, 1212 51212 51212 5 1212 S 1212 S 1212 S 1212 5489

X X X X X X X X

Wulfwin held of Earl Leofric & Godwin of Kg Holy Trinity, Canterbury Holy Trinity Holy Trinity Holy Trinity archbp of Canterbury St. Augustine's, Canterbury I

LEICESTERSHIRE LEICESTER +Dishley -(-Thorpe Acre 4-Whatborough +Burrough-on-Hill + Saddington

2 houses 1 5c 3 3c 10s

+ STAMFORD

2jc 4 plus 70 houses

+TORKSEY

property in & 2c 18 see Torksey 12c 52 w/ 55c of soke 12c 3c 3c 3c 12c 24 w/ lOc of soke 3c 15 w/ 26c of soke 3c 20 w/ 42c of soke 2b 4s

I h - le 4 *

DB, DB, DB, DB, DB, DB,

i, 230 i, 230b i, 230b i, 230b i, 230b i, 230b

X X X X X X

LINCOLNSHIRE

•fHardwick +GRANTHAM -t-Great Ponton +Gonerby + Harlaxton -HSkillington +Nettleham +Gayton le Wold + HORNCASTLE Fillingham Fiskerton Osgodby

DB, i, 336b

X

DB, i, 337 DB, i, 337

X X

DB, DB, DB, DB, DB,

X X X X X

i, i, i, i, i,

337b 337b 337b 337b 338

DB, i, 338

X

DB, i, 338b

X

DB, i, 339 DB, i, 371 5 787, 1029 HC, p. 20

X

Earnwin held of Q Earl .tlfgar & others

X X

MIDDLESEX + Ebury

10

12

DB, i, 129b

Harold, s of Ralph, William held of Q

X''

NORFOLK

S 1076, 1077

Kirby Cane Northwold Pulham

12

LE, p. 114 see Northwold

X X X

Bury St. Edmunds, Osmund, Wulfmaer Ely Ely

The Queen's 'Demesne' in Later Anglo-Saxon England ESTATES BY SHIRE

ASSESSMENT AREA/VALUE

SOURCE 1

2

3

4

5

QUEEN 6 7

8

9

1 01 1

TENANT-IN-CHIEF T.R.E.

NORTHAMPTONSHIRE + Finedon

Luffenham & Kelthorpe +Warkton

27 20 w/ land in six hundreds

X

DB, i, 219, 220

X

see Rutland 3 2v 8

DB, i, 222 ASCh, App. I, 3 HC, p. 34 WC, p. 34 IDE, 4135-4140

Burghley Ashton in Bainton Rockingham

X

^Ifgifu

X X X

OXFORDSHIRE Hempton Horley Great Haseley Lewknor Newington Brithwell Islip Mansion Newnham Murren Mongewell

10 5 16

6 3 10s 15

17

2v 10 see Newham

X X X X

DB, i, 157b DB, i, 159 DB, i, 159 CA, ii, 282-83 S 1229, 1638 S 1638 S 1147, 1148 S 1147, 1148 S 738, 1484 S 1484

Abingdon archbp of Canterbury Wulfstan Godric & /tlfwin

X X X X X X

RUTLAND -t-Oakham + Hambleton +Ridlington + Ketton +Tixover + Barrowden +Seaton +Thorpe by Walter + Morcott + Bisbrooke -HGlascon + North Luffenham +South Luffenham + Kelthorpe Rutland •Rutland'

4c 40 w/ 5 berewicks 4c 52 w/ 7 berewicks 4c 40 w/ 7 berewicks 7

5

2 3 3v 1 2v 1 Iv

3

4 1 2v see Bisbrooke

4 7 Iv 30s see S. Luffenham ? Martinsley 100 see Rutland

DB, i, 293b

X

DB, i, 293b

X

DB, i, 293b DB, i, 219 see Ketton DB, i, 219 see Barrowden see Barrowden see Barrowden see Barrowden see Barrowden see Barrowden DB, i, 219 see S. Luffenham S 1138 LDE, 4135-4140

X X X X X X X X X X X X X X

SHROPSHIRE SHREWSBURY Frankton Welshampton Whixall Colemere Pulley Cleobury Mortimer Kinlet Edgbold Meole

3 2 3 1 2 2 4 4 1 3

10s 15s 8s 10s 36s 8 3 2 7

DB, DB, DB, DB, DB, DB, DB, DB, DB, DB,

i, 252 i, 255 i, 255 i, 256b i, 259 i, 259, 260b i, 260 i, 260 i, 260b i, 260b

X X X X X X X X X X

SOMERSET + Crewkerne Easthams + Milverton

? 46# see Crewkerne Iv ,2

DB, i, 86b-87 DB, i, 87 DB, i, 87 S 1240

X X X

X

111

Engelric

112 ESTATES BY SHIRE

The Culture of Christendom ASSESSMENT AREA/VALUE

SOURCE 1

2

3

4

5

QUEEN 6 7

8

9

TENANT-IN-CHIEF T.R.E.

10 11

SOMERSET (continued) + Martock Compton + Keynsham +Chewton Mendip + Batheaston +BATH Twerton Puriton Luccombe Selworthy Combe Hay Mark Mudgley Pitminster

38 70# see Martock 43 2v 72 15s# 29 30 2 see Bath 20 66# 2 2v 3 6 12# 2 3 1 1 2 1

15

X X X X X X X* X X X X X

DB, i, 87 DB, i, 87 DB, i, 87 DB, i, 87 DB, i, 87 DB, i, 87 DB, i, 88b DB, i, 91 DB, i, 97 DB, i, 97 DB, i, 99 5 1241 ED, 17 & see Mark AW, 2, p. 18 S 1006

4 thegns

X X

Stigand

SUFFOLK + IPSWICH halfhundred & borough Playford Bildeston Swilland Baylham Lakenheath Thingoe 100

dues from & grange plus 4c 19 3c 8 6c 8 2c 40a 50s 1 church 2s w/ 12a 4,000 eels 8± hundreds in soke

Mildenhall Stoke Sudbourne Waldringfield Thorpe Morieux Withermarsh Elmsett Balsdon Hal! Stratford St. Mary Hadleigh Polstead Chelsworth Lavenham Cockfield

10

X

DB, ii, 290-291 DB, ii, 314b S 1224 DB, ii, 426 DB, ii, 426-26b

X* X X X

DB, ii, 448b S980 S 1069

Ely

X

fog, i, 41 S 1069

X X

S781, 1494 LE, 11:37 S 1494

X

Stigand held of Bury St. Edmunds, 2 men, ^thelgyth X

Ely

X

1 freeman, Cwengifu, & Brictmer her son Bury St. Edmunds Robert, f of Swegn Tovi

X

X X X X X X X X X X

S 1494 S 1494 S 1494 S 1494 5 1494 51494 S 1494 S 703, 1494 S 1483, 1494 S 1483, 1494

7

Godwin, s of Alfhere

Robert, f of Swegn Holy Trinity, Canterbury Robert, f of Swegn Bury St. Edmunds Wulfwin, .tlfwin held of Bury Bury St. Edmunds

SURREY + Reigate + Kingston +Fetcham +Shere + Dorking Coombe 'booklands in*

37 2v queen's 7 9 10 2v 3

40# wool 3 15 18 5

DB, i, 30 DB, i, 30b DB, i, 30b DB, i, 30b DB, i, 30b DB, i, 36b S1515

X X

Kg Edward

X X X X*

Alfred held of Kg, Cola

X

SUSSEX Beddingham Frog Firle Parrock Eckington Chalvington

1 8

1 ? 2v

52s

5 2 see Eckington

DB, DB, DB, DB,

i, i, i, i,

19 21b 21b 21b

X X X X X

St. John's, Lewes

The Queen's 'Demesne' in Later Anglo-Saxon England ESTATES BY SHIRE

ASSESSMENT AREA/VALUE

SOURCE 1

2

3

4

5

QUEEN 6 7

113

TENANT-IN-CHIEF 8

9

T.R.E.

10 11

SUSSEX (continued) Iford

77 2v 50 w/ burgesses in Lewes

Palmer West Firle Alciston Arlington

21

East Dean West Dean

60

'Hamme' 'booklands' in Felpham

51 3iv

DB, DB, DB, DB, DB,

i, i, i, i, i,

X X X X X

26 26 19-19b, 21 19, 19b 19

Wilton Wilton Wilton Wilton Godgifu Azor & Eadwin held of Kg Edward

X X

see East Dean

5904 S904

30

S 1494, 1630 S 1515 S562

X X X

Shaftesbury

WARWICKSHIRE Binley Newton

3

3 2v

2s

X X

DB, i, 238b DB, i, 241

Godgifu

WILTSHIRE + Wootton Rivers + Westbury +Winterbourne Brixton Deverill Kingston Deverill Lavington Garsdon Westwood TISBURY AMESBURY

Allington Boscombe Bulford Choulston Hannington Winterbourne Monkton Edington East Coulston

30 40 2 Iv 10 4 15

26 100 33 15 2 20

i, i, i, i, i, i,

65 65; S 1042 65 68b 68b 73

Keg, i, 135 ECW, 334 S850 X 1515 ECU/, 331

20

4 4 12 2 2v

DB, DB, DB, DB, DB, DB,

3 3 13 15s 1 10s

15 10 see Edington

X X X X

Brictric

X

X

X X

Wulfgifu bp of Winchester Shaftesbury

X X

X

X X

Wilton, Kg Edward, 3 thegns, Wulfmzr Amesbury Amesbury Amesbury Amesbury Glastonbury

X X X X

DB, i, 68b DB, i, 68b DB, i, 68b DB, i, 68b ECW, 259 i'399 1C, i, p. 374 5 1507 S765, 1507

X X X X

Glastonbury Romsey, Hervey Romsey

WORCESTERSHIRE WORCESTER

sundry rights and renders fees of £5

DB, i, 172

Elmley Lovett Stanford Elmbridge

11 4 8

10 3 10s 5

DB, i, 176 DB, i, 176b DB, i, 176b

Middleton on the Wolds Great Driffield

3c 5b

1

DB, i, 306b

X

3c 5b

?

DB, i, 373

X

X

X X4 Xs'

vtlfwold held of Q Godric & Brictric held of Q

X

YORKSHIRE

UNIDENTIFIED 'Wicham' Taeafersceat' 'Fearnleag' 'Scyreburnan'

S 1484 5 1484 S350, 1211 S 1485

X X X X

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6

Christcburch's Sisters and Brothers: An Edition and Discussion of Canterbury Obituary Lists Robin Fleming

Throughout the middle ages the monks of Christchurch Canterbury remembered and commemorated their benefactors. The names of these 'brothers and sisters' were preserved in obituary lists arranged by day of death. Four such lists from Canterbury survive in the collections of the British Library, which not only memorialise the community's own monks but its Anglo-Saxon friends. The earliest, B (London, British Library, MS Cotton Nero C ix, fos. 19r-21v), was written c. 1100; the latest, A (London, British Library, MS Arundel 68, fos. 10r-52v), was originally copied in the first decade of the fifteenth century. Despite their late compositions, these obituaries contain the names of just over one hundred Anglo-Saxon lay men and women, eighteen kings, kings' sons and spouses, and twenty-one pre-Conquest abbots, bishops and archbishops.1 As such they provide one of the largest and most comprehensive accountings of a community's benefactors before the Norman Conquest. Besides preserving the names and anniversaries of patrons, the obituaries often include benefactions. Taken together the four lists record some 130 pre-Conquest gifts of estates, pastures and woodland.2 They also give notice of the more occasional donation of urban property, church plate and gospel books. The way these lists preserve Christchurch's pre-Conquest patrons, anniversaries and benefactions gives some notion of how the community, at least liturgically, perceived the history of its estates, and how it remembered the generosity of its Anglo-Saxon patrons. Lists similar to these late survivors were doubtless compiled at Christchurch long before the eleventh century. At the turn of the ninth century Ealdorman Oswulf gave several Kentish monasteries land in exchange for promises that his anniversary and that of his wife Beornthryth would be commemorated each year.3 Oswulf's gifts to ensure his commemoration at Christchurch included 1. See index nominum below, pp. 152-53. 2. See index locorum below, pp. 149-51. 3. Peter H. Sawyer, Anglo-Saxon Charters: An Annotated List and Bibliography, Royal Historical Society Guides and Handbooks (London, 1968), nos. 153, 1188; hereafter cited as Sawyer with the appropriate document number.

115

116

The Culture of Christendom

an annual gift of food to the community's refectory and to Canterbury's poor. He also stipulated the number and types of religious offices the community was to perform for the benefit of his soul. Oswulf's grants clearly define for us the exchange between religious communities and lay benefactors during this period, and they detail the kind of quid pro quo that lay behind all gifts memorialised in Canterbury's lists. His grants also suggests that notations concerning the anniversaries of lay patrons were kept and cultivated alongside those of monks, saints and kings by the late eighth century, and indeed were commonplace, since Oswulf stipulated that his annual dole of bread was to be distributed once a year 'as is done at the anniversaries of lords'.4 The loss of all Canterbury's records in the 790s would certainly have included the loss of such lists as well as the destruction of charters necessary to reconstruct a calendar of patrons.5 As a result of the loss of Canterbury's archives, the name of only one of the community's eighth-century lay patrons, so far as we can tell, is preserved in the surviving lists.6 Christchurch's remaining pre-Conquest brothers and sisters lived and died in the ninth, tenth and eleventh centuries. B, the earliest surviving obituary list, was examined and described by Boutemy, who was able to date it to c. 1100 based on the names of the important personages contained therein and by the scribe's use of Anglo-Saxon letters.7 It is a beautifully written though fragmentary calendar, covering only those anniversaries falling between 14 August and 12 December. Another piece of this calendar survives at Lambeth Library, and this, too, has been discussed by Boutemy.8 The names appearing in B are for the most part ecclesiastics, but a few kings and lay patrons are enrolled as well. B is not related to any of the other three Canterbury obituary lists in the British Library, including N (London, British Library, MS Cotton Nero C ix, i, fos. 3r-18v), with which it is bound, and the information in it was not used in the making of the other lists.9 G (London, British Library, MS Cotton Galba E, III. 2, fos. 32r-34r), our chief source of information on benefactions, dates from the end of the thirteenth century and includes a record of gifts extending from the days of the Mercian supremacy through to the death of Richard I. G appears in the same gathering and is written in the same hand as the bulk of a little annal following it, which describes events in England from the death of Cnut up to the year 1286. The gathering ends with a description of 1273, and so, too, does

4. Neither Oswulf nor his wife, however, are commemorated in any of Canterbury's lists. The earliest non-royal, non-ecclesiastic person that can be dated with any certainty is Selethryth (4 Kal Oct), a kinswoman of Oswulf, who appears to have been a benefactor of the community in the 780s, Sawyer 123, 125. 5. For this loss, see Nicholas Brooks, The Early History of the Church of Canterbury (Leicester, 1984), p. 121. 6. See above, n. 4. 7. A. Boutemy, 'Two Obituaries of Christ Church, Canterbury', EHR 50 (1935), pp. 295-96. 8. Ibid., pp. 294-99. 9. Ibid., pp. 296-99.

Christchurch's Sisters and Brothers: Canterbury Obituary Lists

117

the hand of the obituary.10 The obituary and the bulk of the annal are written in a large and awkward hand. The scribe was an incompetent copiest: he seems to have misunderstood both the text he was trying to replicate and the basic principles of the Roman calendar. G's source, or a related manuscript, was also used by the main scribe of A, who was copying his obituary in the early fifteenth century. Despite ^4's late composition the English placenames in it bear a much closer relation to the forms found in Canterbury's early charters. These charters were a source of much of the information on benefactions drawn upon by the compiler of the source lying behind both A and G, but where A replicates placenames fairly faithfully, G does not. G, for example, records the gift of Caseborne as Easiburne, whereas A renders in Casinborne (9 Kalends April).11 G writes a notice of the gift of Berbamstede for Palmstead, A for Perhamstede (3 Ides August);12 G records Ebbecie for Ebony, A records Elbene (6 Kalends February).13 G, moreover, lists among its patrons, after the priest Werheard, a certain Migel de Werda. The scribe of >4, however, understood his exemplar better, and records, instead, that Werheard gave Christchurch Megeldewrtha — or Madginford, Kent, an estate indeed granted to Christchurch by Werheard.14 G also identified the Archbishop who granted Chart to Christchurch as a certain Eilnodus, or ^thelnoth, but both A and a notice in Canterbury's thirteenth-century cartulary, London, Lambeth Palace 1212, make it clear that the prelate's name was Ceolnoth.15 The calendar presents equal difficulties to the scribe of G. He forgot to record some dates (such as Nones January for the death of Edward the Confessor), and conflates the anniversary days of worthies who appeared near, but not next to one another in the exemplar. The name of the thegn ^Elfnoth, for example, is enrolled on the same day as Edward the Confessor's, although ^Elfnoth died, according to A, on 7 Kalends February. The scribe wrote the date '2 Nones February' for '2 Ides February' and '7 Kalends July' for '7 Kalends June'. He also appears to have thought that 9 Kalends April came before 8 Ides April rather than after. G's flaws, therefore, are obvious and, as a result, A, the later and more unwieldly manuscript, must be used as a corrective of G: it is crucial in the identification of the places, names and days of death found in G. A is written in many hands, but a single scribe was responsible for the whole of fos. 10r-19v, 36r-38v, 41r-45v, 47r-48v and 50r-52v. A number of other hands are found in A, some contemporary to this scribe, others dating from as much as a century later; together they record several thousand names. The calendar, therefore, was used and updated over the course of a hundred years or so, indeed up to the coming of Protestantism to Christchurch. Written 10. The history continues on to the first two fos. of the next gathering (42r-43r), but it has been written by a different scribe. 11. Sawyer 169. 12. Sawyer 123. 13. Sawyer 1623. 14. G, 9 Kal Apr; Sawyer 1414. 15. G, 6 Kal Feb; A, 2 Non Feb; Sawyer 1635.

118

The Culture of Christendom

immediately after A, on fos. 52v to 53v, is a list of the names, organised by year, of lay people who entered into confraternity with the community of Christchurch. This list starts on the same page that the Canterbury obits finish, and all but the last entry — the one for the year 1407 — is written in the same hand as the manuscript's chief scribe, whose last entry is dated 1405. The base calendar seems, therefore, to have been written in the first decade of the fifteenth century. The last Canterbury obituary list in the British Library is TV, a document that is both earlier than and related to A. On the basis of the well-known ecclesiastics and laymen mentioned in it, Boutemy long ago dated N to the years 1225 through 1240.16 The manuscript is made up of two complete gatherings, the first covering the months January to April, the second September through December. It is clear, therefore, that the obituary is missing a gathering — that covering May to August.17 Once again, the late A, in part a copy of a copy of this manuscript, is important because it can help fill this four month gap. With the exception of a few names written in a later hand, the manuscript is the work of a single scribe, who organised each page carefully and hierarchically. He divided each page into eight rows — one given for each day — and four columns. Thus each page is divided into thirty-two boxes in which the names of the dead are written. The first column is given over to celebrities — princes of the church, most of whom were associated in some way with the community, and to kings and their close kinsmen. The second column is reserved for the names of members of Christchurch's own congregation. The third column is used for the names of monks who belonged to communities who were in confraternity with Christchurch. The fourth column is used for the names of Christchurch's lay brothers and sisters.18 Another version of this manuscript existed at one time, to which were added, probably periodically, the names of further monks, laymen, kings and archbishops. This lost manuscript, in turn, was copied in the form of A, which unlike TV is not divided into rows and columns, but instead has jumbled together most of the celebrities, monks and laymen. For example, for 2 Nones February (fo. 15r) A records the following: Obierunt Beniamin, Beniamin sacerdotes, Lucas subdiaconus, Radulfus monachi nostre congregationis. Sorbrandus, Johannes monachi Sancti Bertini. Magister Adam Bemensis, Baldewinus, Herueus fratres nostri. Johanna soror nostra [and then in a later hand] Hamo, Robertus fratres nostri, magister Adam Bodn' frater noster, Willelmus Bosde sacerdos et monachus nostre congregationis. Ricardus Cromer frater noster. [This is followed by four blank lines and then] Item obierunt reges Anglorum Egtbertus qui instinctu Celnodi Archiepiscopi

16. Boutemy, 'Two Obituaries', p. 292-93. 17. Ibid., p. 292. 18. This arrangement is similar to the one adopted in an Evesham calendar, a copy of which survives in British Library, MS Lansdowne 427, fo. 73; Jan Gerchow, Die Gedenkuberlieferung der Angelsachsen (Berlin and New York, 1988), p. 290.

Christchurch's Sisters and Brothers: Canterbury Obituary Lists

119

dedit Ecclesie Christ! Meallinges, et Athulphus films eius prefate ecclesie dedit Elbene, Deifertesriam, Misamham, Blacheburneham, Ofneham, Plegwyningham, Langeburnam, Berthonam, et silvam que vocatur Ostrindenne et duo prata, unum apud Schettinge et aliud ad Taningtone. Item obiit Celnodus Archiepiscopus qui a principe nomine Heled' villam que dicitur Chert propria pecunia emit, et Christi Ecclesie dedit. Et Keneyare Abatissa qui dedit prefate ecclesie Wyncheswarde.

For the same date, N reads: Obierunt reges Anglorum Egebertus et Atulfus films eius.

Obierunt Bengamin sacerdos et Lucas subdiaconus, monachi nostre congregationis

Obierunt Soibrandus conversus monachus Sancti Bertini, et Johannes sacerdos

Item obiit Magister Adam Remensis, frater et, benefactor noster, et Baldewinus frater noster.

It is clear, from a comparison of these two entries, that the bulk of the text A was copied from a close relative of N. Both shared much of the same information, but this second, missing text included many later additions, such as the second priest Benjamin, Radulfus a monk of Christchurch, and the community's lay benefactors Hervey and Johanna. A's description of King Egbert and his gifts, however, found below the main entry, were based on the manuscript (or a relative) from which G was copied. G under 6 Kalends February records: Obiit Egebertus Rex, qui dedit Ecclesie Christi Mallinge, et Athulfus filius eius, qui dedit Ebbecie, Ceyse, Misteham, Blakeburneham, Ofneham, Plengvinigham, Langebunebertonn, Delham et siluam Catur Ostrinde et i pratum apud Sittinge, et aliud ad Thanintone. Item Eilnodus Archiepiscopus, qui dedit Cleder villiam de Chert emit et ecclesie dedit. Keneware Abbatissa, qui dedit Wircesburde.

A, therefore, is related to the two unrelated obituaries, the flawed G and the fragmentary N. As a result A, although very late, is a crucial witness to the Anglo-Saxon period. These four manuscripts provide a variety of important information, not least of which is the month and day of death of Canterbury's lay patrons and archbishops.19 Many of these days are known; indeed a number have been taken from these lists.20 Nonetheless, several of the royal and archiepiscopal anniversaries appearing in these obituaries are not generally known. For example, Egbert of Wessex's death, according to both N and A is 4 February;21 Cenwulf I of Mercia's day of death is given as 24 March (G, N, A}; Archbishop 19. But see below, p. 121 for the problems related to this enterprise. 20. William Urry, Nicholas Brooks, David Knowles and Simon Keynes have all used this material and have taken information either from the manuscripts themselves, or from Dart's flawed edition of A, G and N (of which see below, p. 124). 21. 2 Non Feb. G mistakenly assigns Egbert to 6 Kal Feb.

120

The Culture of Christendom

Bregowine's as 24 August (B); Godwine, suffragan bishop under Eadsige, as 12 April (N); and ^Ethelric Bishop of Selsey as 15 August (^4, B}. The lists also give alternative anniversaries for a number of figures. Casdwalla king of Wessex's death, according to Bede, occurred on 20 April 689, but his anniversary was remembered at Canterbury as 12 October.22 Of fa's death in 796 is given variously as the 26 or 29 July, but he was memorialised at Canterbury on 11 August.23 Byrhtnoth's anniversary is given as 11 August — the same as that remembered at Winchester and Ramsey — but a day earlier than his commemoration at Ely.24 Archbishop Justus's day of death is given in The Handbook of British Chronology as 10 November 627 X 31. In B, however, it is given as 12 October. The names and gifts celebrated in these calendars give us a slightly different picture of the community's benefactors than do the charters. The charters emphasise the donor's relationship with the community. The obituary lists, however, are evidence of the relationship between Christchurch and those lords, kings and kinsmen whose permission, immediately or after a generation, allowed the community to take up its grant. They do so by bringing all who participated in a gift into the nexus of Christchurch's prayers. One of the Alfreds found in these lists, for example, clearly represents the ninth-century ealdorman of that name, who, with Werburg his wife, presented the Codex Aureus, newly ransomed from a group of Viking toughs, to the community in exchange for prayers.25 In the record of their gift, the couple asked that their daughter ^theldryth be remembered as well. All three are present on Canterbury's lists.26 In a separate transaction, Alfred bequeathed his wife an estate, stipulating that after her death it was to go to his kinsman Sigewulf. He then instructed Sigewulf to remember Christchurch annually with a gift of lOOd. from his estate. Sigewulf must have fulfilled this obligation, since his obituary, too, is recorded.27 Other groups of kinsmen were remembered by the monks. Thurstan son of Wine's two womenfolk, ^Ethelgyth and Leofwaru,

22. Bede's Ecclesiastical History of the English People, ed. Bertram Colgrave and R.A.B. Mynors (Oxford, 1969), p. 470; G, N, 4 Id Oct. 23. Handbook of British Chronology, ed. E. B. Fryde, D. E. Greenway, S. Porter, I. Roy, 3rd edn. (London, 1986), p. 16; A, G, 3 Id Aug. 24. Alan Kennedy, 'Byrhtnoth's Obits and Twelfth-Century Accounts of the Battle of Maldon', in The Battle of Maldon AD 991 (Oxford, 1991), pp. 59-78. Kennedy does not include Canterbury's notices of Byrhtnoth's death in his discussion of monastic commemorations of the ealdorman's death. 25. Lay patrons named Alfred are recorded in N for Non Jan, 17 Kal Oct, and Id Dec, and in A on 14 Kal Jun. His grant of the gospel book is printed in Select English Historical Documents of the Ninth and Tenth Centuries, ed. Florence E. Harmer (Cambridge, 1914), no. 9. 26. Women named Werburg are recorded in A under 6 Non Jul and 4 Kal Sep. Three ^Etheldryths are recorded in N. The first, enrolled under 5 Kal Mar, is the sister of Osbern Bigge, for which see below, n. 132. The others are recorded under 5 Non Oct and 16 Kal Nov. 27. Sawyer 1508. He can be found in N under 16 Kal Feb.

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are there, along with Leofwaru's grandfather, Ealdorman Byrhtnoth.28 The father and son ^thelric and Osbern Bigge and Osbern's sister ^Etheldryth are there as well.29 So, too, are the treacherous Essex thegn ^Ethelric, who was involved in the 'plan that Swein should be received in Essex when first he came there with a fleet' and his wife Leofwynn, who braved the wrath of King ./Ethelred, and fought successfully to uphold her outlawed husband's bequest to Christchurch.30 Lords, kings and archbishops who facilitated the pious gifts of others were also memorialised. In the 830s, for example, Christchurch received a huge endowment from its archbishop Wulfred and from Wulfred's kinsman Werheard the Priest. Some of this land came from the two men's own patrimonies, but the rest Wulfred procured, through purchase or grant, from King Cenwulf I of Mercia. On his death, Wulfred bequeathed this acquired land to Werheard, with the proviso that upon Werheard's death it would be given to Christchurch.31 All three men — the archbishop, the priest and the king — are commemorated on 9 Kalends April (G), not because they died on the same day, but because their complicated and long-standing arrangements were seen by the community, after their deaths, as a single act.32 As a result, the three together were the beneficiaries of prayers and masses on the same day and at the same time as the monks remembered and gave thanks for a large portion of their endowment.33 King Egbert of Kent in the 760s and 770s had granted Charing, Great Chart and Bishopsbourne to Christchurch, and his thegn Ealdhun, with the king's permission, had granted Barham. All these lands, however, were taken away by Offa when he seized control of Kent. After Offa's death these lands were restored to Christchurch by Cenwulf of Mercia, during the archepiscopacy of ^thelheard.34 In the obituaries Ealdhun with his gift of Barham is commemorated.35 Cenwulf of Mercia's 'gifts' (i.e. restoration) of Barham and Bishopsbourne are memorialised,36 and Archbishop ^Ethelheard is remembered for his role in the recovery of Charing, Great Chart and

28. For the family see Anglo-Saxon Wills, ed. and trans. Dorothy Whitelock (Cambridge, 1930), p. 189-90. For the family's benefactions to Christchurch, see Sawyer 1530, 1531. For the notice of yEthelgyth's death see N, 3 Non Apr; for Byrhtnoth's, see G and A, 3 Id Aug; for Leofwaru's see N, 6 Kal Dec. 29. For yEthelric, see below, n. 93; for ,-Etheldryth see below, n. 132; for Osbern, see B, 8 Kal Dec. 30. Sawyer 1501, 939. ^thelric, according to A, died 16 Kal Sep. Leofwynn, according to both G and A died 10 Kal Aug. 31. Sawyer 1414; Brooks, Canterbury, pp. 140-41. 32. The charters, however, make it clear that this was not, in actual fact, the case. See for example Sawyer 164, 168, 186, 1264, 1414, 1434, 1436, 1619. 33. This example serves as a warning that a patron's anniversary should always be read both in the context of other dead commemorated on the same day and in the context of the charters. 34. Sawyer 155. 35. G, 3 Id May. 36. G, 9 Kal Apr.

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Bishopsbourne.37 The original donor, Egbert of Kent, however, has been forgotten. This memorialising of restoring kings and vigorous archbishops, and the corporate amnesia surrounding original grantors, particularly Kentish kings, is typical of these lists. Egbert of Wessex and his son vEthelwulf, for example, are remembered for their 'gift' of East Mailing, Sussex, despite the fact that they had seized this property from the community and kept hold of it for some fifteen years. Conversely, King Baldred, a Mercian sub-king of Kent in the mid 820s, and the original donor of this property, cannot be found.38 All of this suggests that the community of Christchurch had a different historical memory of its endowments than the one presented in the charters. The yearly, communal commemoration of specific grants is self-consciously royalist (usually either Mercian or West Saxon), and there is an acute appreciation of the role of archbishops in the acquisition or restoration of estates. This is exactly the same bias presented in many of the writings produced during the period of the tenth-century reform. This may suggest that the information on endowments found in G and A was shaped in the latter half of the tenth century, when the kings of Mercia were no longer problematic enough to require the suppression of their good deeds, and when monks and kings together seized centre stage in so many works of history. At the same time, the lists of names without gifts attached to them, such as the ones found so often in A/, are extremely broad and include a wide collection of members of a man's kindred, entourage and his lord, all of whom could, but did not, stand in the way of a benefaction. Gifts other than land are also preserved in these lists. The Thoraed commemorated on 15 Kalends August is the same Thorasd who granted East Horsley, Surrey, to Christchurch in the first half of the eleventh century. His grant to Canterbury was noted in a Christchurch gospel book. Only a fragment of this manuscript is left, but a dedication in it makes it clear that a Thorasd had commissioned the gospel book for Canterbury.39 A not only notes Thorasd's grant of Horsley, but his gift of 'two gospel books, beautifully adorned with gold and silver'. The surviving fragment, therefore, with its note concerning Horsley, is only a sad reminder of the luxury gifts late-Saxon thegns gave to favoured monasteries. Such gifts are not often included in the charters, but a number can be found in the obituaries. ^Elfgifu Emma, so A tells us, gave two dorsals and two capes with gold tassels.40 ^thelric Bigge gave 'two chasubles, 37. G, 3 Id May, interestingly on the same day as Ealdhun. Again, this may be a case of commemorating several donors on the same day, who were involved in related transactions. 38. Sawyer 1438; Brooks, Canterbury, p. 197; G, 6 Kal Feb; N, 2 Non Feb. A similar forgetfulness can be seen in the strange silence of these lists concerning Archbishop Stigand and Earl Godwine and his sons, who cultivated a close relationship with the community. For the Godwinesons' relations with Christchurch and other ecclesiastical communities, see Robin Fleming, Kings and Lords in Conquest England (Cambridge, 1991), pp. 80-83. 39. Anglo-Saxon Charters, ed. and trans. A. ]. Robertson (Cambridge, 1939), no. 88 and p. 421. The manuscript is catalogued in N. R. Ker, Catalogue of Manuscripts Containing Anglo-Saxon (Oxford, 1977), no. 185. 40. A, 8 Id Mar.

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three cloaks studded with silver and jewels, two gospel books with gold and silver, a large censer and a large silk dorsal', along with seventy-two mansiones in the city of Canterbury.41 Cnut's gift of relics and his crown are noted, as is King Eadred's mother's eternal grant of 20s. alms and 40s. for the community's refectory on the anniversary of her death.42 Christchurch's obituary lists, therefore, are an important source, not only for the anniversaries of kings and ecclesiastics, but for the community's own version of its endowment, its patrons and its past.

41. A, Kaljul. 42. G, 2 Id Nov; B, A, G, 8 Kal Sep.

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The Editions G, N and B were printed as a group by John Dart in 1726, but Dart was a terrible editor. Besides including a Worcester obituary in with his Canterbury material,43 there is hardly a date, personal name or gift to which Dart has not done violence.44 Jan Gerchow has more recently provided an edition of B (although not a perfect one),45 along with a tentative list of Anglo-Saxon names appearing in N.46 Gerchow, however, has not used A to supplement N's information, and he does nothing whatsoever with G. Editions of three of the four texts — B, G and N — appear below. A is a huge calendar and includes several thousand names, many hundreds of which are from the last two centuries of the middle ages. Accordingly, a full text does not appear here. The manuscript's most divergent forms of placenames, personal names and dates have, however, been correlated with those found in G. Furthermore, in the index nominum and index locorum the names, anniversaries and gifts of lay, royal and episcopal patrons from the pre-Conquest period, which appear in A but not in the other three calendars, have been printed. Modern punctuation has been used, and all abbreviations have been extended silently.

B.L., MS Cotton Nero C ix, fos. 19r-21v (B) [fo. 19r]

B C E A C E

19 18 16 13 11 9

Kal Sept Kal Kal Kal Kal Kal

F

8 Kal

G D

7 Kal 3 Kal

Obiit ^Egelricus episcopus et monachus. Obiit Valentinus monachus. Obiit ^Egelpius monachus. Obiit Thomas subdiaconus et monachus. Obiit Bregowinus archi episcopus, et Brihtpaldus sacerdos et monachus. Obiit Eadgiva regina mater Eadredi regis, que dedit Meapeham, Culinges, Leanham, Peccham, Fearnlege, Muneketon, Ealdintun ad Ecclesiam Christi. Obiit Albricus sacerdos et monachus. Obiit Feologeldus archi episcopus.

[fo. 19v] F A

Kal Sept 3 Non

Obiit Vitalis monachus. Obiit Odo sacerdos et monachus.

43. London, British Library, MS Cotton Vitellius D, vii, fo. 48. 44. J. Dart, The History of the Antiquities of the Cathedral Church of Canterbury (London, 1726), appendix 8, 12. 45. Gerchow, Gedenkiiberlieferung, no. 22. 46. Ibid., no. 25.

Christchurch's Sisters and Brothers: Canterbury Obituary Lists D F G

8 Idus 6 Idus 5 Idus

B

3 Idus

125

Obiit Lifstanus, qui dedit SuScircean ad Ecclesiam Christi. Obiit Wulfricus diaconus et monachus. Obiit Willemus rex Anglorum, et Scotlandus abbas, et Eadricus sacerdos et monachus. Obiit |Julfno6us sacerdos et monachus.

[fo. 20r]

B F A B

17 13 11 10

Kal [Nov] Kal Kal Kal

D

8 Kal

G

5 Kal

C

2 Kal

Obiit Nothelmus archi episcopus. Obiit Osbearnus diaconus et monachus. Obiit Salomon diaconus et monachus. Obierunt monachus Leoffelmus sacerdos et monachus et Eadmazrus diaconus, et Sapoldus sacerdos et monachus. Obiit Cuthbertus archi episcopus, et ^Egelpinus sacerdos et monachus. Obierunt archipresules [ ]47 ^ESelnoSus, et Eadsinus, et Wulfredus acolitus et monachus. Obiit Siricus archiepiscopus.48

[fo. 20v]

F

3 Non Nov

F A

4 Idus 2 Idus

Obierunt monachus Goldstanus sacerdos, et Samuel diaconus monachus. lustus archi episcopus et ^ElfnoSus monachus et diaconus. Obiit Cnut rex Anglorum, et Edpordus sacerdos et monachus.

[fo. 21r]

C D E D E F A B C D

18 17 16 10 9 8 6 5

Kal [Dec] Kal Kal Kal Kal Kal Kal Kal

4 Kal 3 Kal

Obierunt monachus ^Elfricus sacerdos, et ^Ifpius puer. Obiit Girardus sacerdos et monachus. Transitus vElfrici archi presulis. Obiit Obiit Leofstanus sacerdos et monachus. Obiit Kynsinus decanus et monachus. Obiit Esbearn Bigga. Obierunt monachus Lifingus et ^Ifricus sacerdos. Obierunt monachus Merepoldus, et Andreas diaconus, et ^Ifpinus, qui dedit hpearf Ecclesi Christi. Obiit WulfgeS soror nostra. Obiit Simon sacerdos et monachus.

47. Erasure of five characters. 48. 'Lumley' (for Lord Lumley, the antiquarian and manuscript collector) is written at the bottom of the page in a later hand.

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[fo. 21v]

F C D A C

Kal Dec Non Dec 8 Idus 4 Idus 2 Idus

Obiit ^ulfpinus sacerdos et monachus. Obierunt monachus Sebastianus sacerdos, et Ceolepardus conversus. Obiit Georgius subdiaconus et monachus. Obiit Ordbrihtus sacerdos et monachus. Obiit ^Elpinus decanus et monachus.

B.L., MS Cotton Galba E Hi, 2, fos. 32r-34r (G) [fo. 32r]

[Non Jan] 6 Kal Feb51

2 Non Feb 6 Non Mart 6 Non Mart

8 Idus Mart

Obiit Edwardus Rex, qui dedit Cherteham et Waleworthe Ecclesie Christi Cantuarensi.49 Eifnodus qui dedit Orpintone Ecclesie Christi Cantuarie.50 Obiit Egebertus Rex, qui dedit Ecclesie Christi Mallinge, et Athulfus filius eius, qui dedit Ebbecie,52 Ceyse,53 Misteham,54 Blakeburneham,55 Ofneham, Plengvinigham, Langebunebertonn,56 Delham57 et siluam Catur Ostrinde58 et i pratum apud Sittinge,59 et aliud ad Thanintone. Item Eiilnodus Archiepiscopus, qui dedit Cleder villiam de Chert emit et ecclesie dedit.60 Keneware Abbatissa, qui dedit Wircesburde.61 Obiit Charlemainus Leuita, qui dedit Brok Ecclesie Christi.62 Obiit Conradus Prior.63 Obiit Hugo de Douoria, qui dedit molendinum de Sancta Mildreda, et X solidos de molendino de Ssamelesforde Ecclesie Christi Cantuarie. Emma Regina, qui dedit Newintonn et Brutewelle,64 et calicem cum patena, quibus fuerunt xiii marce de puro auro Ecclesie Christi Cantuarie. Item Gilbertus de Einesford,65 qui dedit

49. Edward the Confessor's obit is not included in A. 50. A places ^Ifnoth's death under 7 Kal Feb and further describes him as a priest and monk of Christchurch. 51. N and A place Egbert and ^Ethelwulf under 2 Non Feb. 52. Elbene, A. 53. Deifertesriam, A. 54. Misamham, A. 55. Berthonam, A. 56. Langeburnam, A. 57. Berthonam, A. 58. Ostrindenne, A. 59. Schettinge, A. 60. A reads, 'Celnodus Archiepiscopus qui a principe nomine Heled' villam dicuntur Chert propria pecunia emit'. 61. Wynchewsarde, A. 62. This information is found under 2 Id Feb in N and A. 63. This information is found under 12 Kal Mar in A. 64. A adds here 'et duo dorsalia de pallio et duas cappas cum tassellis aureis'. 65. A calls him William of Eynesford, and says he gave Eynesford and Ruckinge, which he held 'of the church for 20 s.'

Christchurch's Sisters and Brothers: Canterbury Obituary Lists

4 Idus Mart 4 Idus Mart 3 Idus Mart 9 Kal April

8 Idus April 9 Kal April

3 Idus Mai

127

ecclesiam de Einesford et Rokinge quod prius tenuit pro xx solidis Ecclesie Christi Cantuarie. Obiit Herueus de Monte Mauricu, qui dedit terrain in Hibernia Ecclesie Christi Cantuarie.66 Obiit Wlnothus,67 qui dedit hospitale de Blen Ecclesie Christi.68 Obiit Wluid, qui dedit Stistede, Coges hale et Mereseye Ecclesie Christi.69 Obiit Kenulfus Rex Anglorum et Wluredus Archiepiscopus, cuius [fo. 32v] procuratonne eidem Rex Kenulfus dedit Ecclesie Christi Ritherlege, Kyngesculand, 70 et Boutone, 71 et Easiburne, 72 et Elmestede, et Bereham, 73 et Grauene, et Appingeland, Byn, 74 et Meletone, Godinsham, Bixle, Copenstane, Gretenerst, Stedeford, 75 Hegcorne, 76 Langedone, Estrewaldintonn,77 Folguntingeland,78 Botelle,79 Hesdestegingeland,80 Wambele. In Midesexa Geddinge, Cumbe, Heges,81 Ottoforde, Eburne. 82 Item Werehardus presbiter, qui dedit Eisham, 83 Migel de Werda, 84 [ ]85 Ecclesie Christi. Obiit Ricardus Rex Anglic, qui dedit Boscum de Blen cum pertinentiis suis Ecclesie Christi. Obiit Withredus Rex Anglorum, qui dedit Wyelmestone,86 et Ethelredus Rex, qui dedit Eastrege Ecclesie Christi.87 Godwinus, qui dedit Cice Ecclesie Christi. Obiit Adelardus Archiepiscopus, per quem Ecclesia Christi has terras olim ablatas recuperauit, Tenham, Cherringes, Selesbertes Chert, Benigland, Burcham et sex mansuras in Dorobernia iuxta Eadburgewelle. Item Alden, qui post prefatam Burnam dedit Ecclesie Christi.88

66. In N, but not in A. 67. A describes him as a conversus. 68. This entry appears in A under 3 Id Mar. Wulfnoth is described as a conversus and is listed as a monk of Canterbury. 69. In N and in A this entry appears under 10 Kal April. 70. Kingestuland, A. 71. Ibintone, A. 72. Casinborne, A. 73. Bereham, A. 74. Binnene, A. 75. Scaldenord, A. 76. Eathelthorne, A. 77. East Stour and Waldintone, A. 78. Folquesland, A. 79. Botewelle, A. 80. Hedesreddyngesland, A. 81. Herghes, A. 82. Burne, A. 83. Hese, A. 84. Megeldewrtha, A. 85. Erasure of five or six letters. Tycham, A. 86. A adds that Wihtred gave Christchurch a general confirmation of all gifts, exactions and liberties. 87. A adds Sandwych. 88. A reads, 'Awzinnus prefectus Cantie qui primam prefatam Burnam dedit Ecclesie Christi'.

128 5 Kal Junii 7 Kal Jul Kal Junii 2 Id Junii 7 Kal Julii Kal Julii

2 Non Julii 15 Kal Aug 10 Kal Aug 3 Idus Aug

15 Kal Octob 8 Kal Sept

The Culture of Christendom Obiit Lamfrancus Archiepiscopus. Obiit Eadmundus Rex films Ediue Regine, qui dedit Wingeham et Prestone Ecclesie Christi.89 Obiit Lefchild, qui dedit Middeltonn Ecclesie Christi. Obiit Liuingus Archiepiscopus, qui dedit Mesteham90 et Chetham91 Ecclesie Christi. Obiit Ethelstanus Rex, qui dedit Holingeburne Ecclesie Christi. Obiit Osbernus Bigge, qui dedit Newintonn92 et Suthcherche, [fo. 33r] et septuaginta duas mansiones in ciuitate Cantuarie et alia multa bona Ecclesie Christi.93 Obiit Henricus secundus Rex, qui dedit Leisdone cum pertinentiis suis et reddidit Berkesore Ecclesii Christi. Obiit Thored, qui dedit [Horsleie et multa alia bona Ecclesie]94 Christi. Obiit Lifwen, qui dedit Bokinge et Mereseye Ecclesie Christi.95 Obiit Offa Rex Anglorum, qui dedit Lingenhese, Geddinges, et in aquilonali parte Thamisie, Tuiccenham, Ortheford,96 Jetham, [BJerhamstede,97 Rokinge, et in saltu qui dicitur Andred, Dumwaldindene, Sandherst, Suthelminden,98 et in siluis que dicuntur Ocolt" et Blan de Harege,100 et pastum unius gregis iuxta Teninden101 et pascua quinquaginta porcorum infra Suade.102 Item Brithnodus Dux103 et uxor eius Eilfled, qui dederunt Lellinge et Illeghe et Hadlege. Obiit Lodowicus, Rex Francie, [ ]104 qui centum modios vini et auream cuppam dedit Ecclesie Christi. Obiit Ediua Regina mater Edridi Regis, que dedit Mepeham, Culinge, Lenham, Pecham, Farleghe,105 Moneketonn, Aldintone, Ecclesie Christi.106

89. Julii is written as a mistake tor Junii (see A and N). 90. Merseham, A. 91. Cheyham, A. 92. Sywen tun, A. 93. A adds that Osbern also gave two chasubles and three cloaks studded with silver and jewels, two gospel books with gold and silver, a large censer and a large silk dorsal. Gervaise of Canterbury correctly identifies this man as jEthelric Bigge, W. Dugdale, Monasticon Anglicanum, revised edition, J. Caley, H. Ellis, and B. Bandinel, 6 vols. in 8 parts (London, 1817-1830), 1, p. 97. According to B, Osbern died on 8 Kal Dec. 94. Written over an erasure. A adds that Thorsed gave two gospel books beautifully adorned with gold and silver. 95. A describes Leofwynn as a sister and benefactrix. 96. Otteford, A. 97. Written over an erasure. Perhamstede, A. 98. Swythelmenden, A. 99. Hotholt, A. 100. Blean et Henrege, A. 101. Cheninden, A. 102. Snade, A. 103. Brithwaldus, A. 104. Erasure. 105. Ffarnleghe, A. 106. A adds that on her anniversary 20s. were to go for alms and 40s. to the refectory.

Christchurch's Sisters and Brothers: Canterbury Obituary Lists 8 Kal Sept 5 Id Sept

8 Kal Octob 7 Kal Octob

5 Kal Octob 8 Id Octob

4 Id Octob

12 Kal Nov 5 Kal Nov

3 Id Nov 2 Id Nov

129

Obiit Lifstanus, 107 qui dedit Suthcherche Ecclesie Christi. 108 Obiit Willielmus [Conquisitor]109 Rex Anglorum, qui reddidit Ecclesie Christi omnes fereterras antiquis et modernis temporibus a iure ipsius Ecclesie ablatas quarum nomina sunt in martilogio. Obiit Matildis, que dedit Merseham Ecclesie Christi et Hagene.110 Obiit Robertus de Hastinge quondam Abbas Cestrensis, monachus nostre congregationis, qui fecit magnam domum pistrinam in [fo. 33v] cimiterio, et multa alia bona contulit Ecclesie Christi. Obiit Wibertus Prior, qui multa bona contulit Ecclesie Christi Cantuane. Obiit Robertus films Richardi, qui dedit Ecclesie Christi iiii scoppas lapideas, et vnam cuppam, et [vnjum 111 ciphum de argento habentes in pondere vi marcas et dimidium, et v marcas argenti. Obiit Ceadwalle Rex Anglorum et Kenedritha uxor eius, qui dederunt Ecclesie Christi per manum Theodori Archiepiscopi Geddinge et Wodetone. Item idem rex per manum Wlfndi Episcopi dedit prefate ecclesie Pageham cum pertinentiis suis Slindonn et Scripen[ham],112 Cerenotum113 et Bucgrenota,114 Bergansteda, 115 Grimmesham, et Mundenham 116 aquilonale, et aliud Mundenham 117 et Tangemere. Cuthbertus Archiepiscopus qui adquisui sepulturam. Obiit Honorius Prior apud Romam. Obiit Aluredus Rex,118 qui dedit Ecclesii Christi [per manum Theodori Archiepiscopi Geddinge et Wodetone. Item idem rex per manum Wlfridi episcopi dedit prefate ecclesie]119 vnum agrum apud Londonn ad Athredeshede.120 Item Ethelstanus Rex, qui dedit Folkestane et Cherringes prefate ecclesie. Obiit Hugo Maminot, qui dedit Ecclesie Christi ecclesiam de Quenegate et xi mansuras. Obiit Cnut Rex, qui Ecclesie Christi dedit brachium Sancti Bartholomei Apostoli et portum de Sandwico cum aurea corona sui capitis, Apeldre, Heselerste, Palstre, Wytricchesham

107. Alstanus, A. 108. Kal is written as a mistake for Id (see, A, B, N) 109. Interlined in a later hand. 110. Aganam, A. 111. Interlined and written in a later hand. 112. Written over an erasure. Schepenheye, A. 113. Ceretonn, A. 114. Brigenore, A. 115. Berkhamstede, A. 116. Modenham, A. 117. Aliud Modenham, A. 118. Atharedus Rex Anglic, A. 119. Deleted with a red line. This information is misplaced, and has been rewritten in 4 Id Oct. 120. Andredeshere, A.

130

The Culture of Christendom et Folkestane prius ablatam reddidit. Item Haldene Princeps, qui dedit Hedere121 et Salwode122 Ecclesie Christi.

[fo. 34r] 18 Kal Dec

Obiit Edmundus de Chert, qui dedit nobis in marisco redditum viii librarum. Obiit Etdredus Rex, qui dedit Tinckenham123 et Raculure Ecclesie Christi Cantuarie. Obiit Lilwynus,124 qui dedit ecclesie vnum weruum Londonn. Obiit Rex Anglorum Henricus primus, qui dedit in dotem Ecclesiam Sancti Martini de Douoria cum omnibus pertinentiis suis. Item Thomas de Newesole, benefactor noster.

9 Kal Dec 5 Kal Dec Kal Dec

B.L., MS Cotton Nero C ix., i, fos. 3r-18v (TV,)125 [fo. 3r]

{January} [1]

K

(2)

[2] [3]

4N 3N

(2) (1) (2)

[4] [5]

2N N

(4) (2) (2) (3) (4)

[6]

81

[7]

71

[8]

61

(1) (2) (3) (2) (4) (1) (4)

Obierunt David sacerdos et Geruasius sacerdos, monachi nostre congregationis. Obiit Olifstanus monachus, sacerdos nostre congregationis. Obiit Willelmus abbas de Evesham. Item obiit Samson sacerdos et monachus nostre congregationis. Et Rogerus diaconus. Item Obiit Alueua soror nostra. Obierunt Gerinus et Willelmus monachi nostre congregationis. Obiit Willelmus conversus, monachus nostre congregationis. Item obiit Walterus monachus Glastonie. Eustachius monachus Sancti Bertini. Obiit Aluredus frater et benefactor noster. Ilberga et Matildis sorores nostre. Obiit Henricus abbas Fiscanensis. Item obiit Benedictus sacerdos et monachus nostre congregationis. Obiit Walterus monachus Glastonie. Obiit Guterius quondam prior, Gaufridus et Johannes sacerdotes et monachi nostre congregationis. Richardus ad succurrendus. Obierunt Ethelmus et Bithwaldus archiepiscopi. Item Geroldus et Dominicus et Ivo fratres nostri, et Helewis soror nostra.

121. Hethe, A. 122. Saltwode, A. 123. Twytenham, A. 124. Alfinus, A. 125. The bracketed number to the far left represents the day of the month. Information in the next column represents the date found in the calendar (K=Kalends, N=Nones, I=Ides). The number in parentheses describes in which of the four columns the information is written. For a description of this arrangement, see above, p. 118.

Christchurch's Sisters and Brothers: Canterbury Obituary Lists

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[fo. 3v] [9]

51

(2)

[14]

19K (2)

[15] [16]

(4) 18K (2) 17K (2)

Obierunt Zacheus, Wlwinus, Guillelmus et Guillelmus, Remigius sacerdotes, Johannes subdiaconus, Edwardus sacerdos, Egelsinus conversus, monachi nostre congregationis. Obierunt et Odo et Osbernus sacerdotes et monachi Glastonie. Obiit Eva soror nostra. Obiit Gosfridus sacerdos et monachus nostre congregationis. Walterus de Cliffort frater et benefactor. Obiit Willelmus abbas Cluniacus. Obierunt Petrus et Rogerus sacerdotes et monachi nostre congregationis. Obierunt Egelredus sacerdos, et Ethelricus conversus, et Alexander leuita, monachi nostre congregationis. Obiit Gerardus Coventrensis episcopus, pro quo fiet servitum sicut pro uno archiepiscopo. Obiit Benedictus leuita, Edmundus sacerdos, cantor et monachus nostre congretationis. Obierunt Clemens, Jacobus sacerdotes et monachi Sancti Bertmi. Hugo conversus. Reginaldus frater noster, et Leticia soror nostra. Obiit Thomas sacerdos. Wulfstanus conversus, monachus nostre congregationis. Symon Dux Laterengie, et Odo frater noster. Obiit Ricardus sacerdos et monachus nostre congregationis. Obiit Hugo monachus et sacerdos nostre congregationis.

[17] 16K (2)

Obierunt Adelstanus, et Baldewinus, et Robertus sacerdotes et

(3) (4)

Obiit Osbernus diaconus, monachus Glastonie. Obierunt Sigulfus et Rogerus fratres nostri, et Juliana soror nostra. Obiit Agnes de Clifford soror nostra, quae dedit Ecclesie Christi molendinam de Graue, cum pertinentibus suis.126 Obiit Edbaldus rex Anglorum, qui dedit Ecclesie Christi Edesham.127 Obiit Donatus sacerdos et monachus nostre congregationis. Obiit Odo abbas de Bello, quondam Ecclesie Christi Cantuarie. Obiit Radulfus et Geremias sacerdotes, Hugo conversus, monachi nostre congregationis. Simon Abrahamus frater noster, Thomas Saluagius benefactor.

(3) (4) (2) (4) (1) (2)

[10]

41

[11]

31

[12]

21

(2)

[13]

I

(1) (2) (3) (4)

[fo. 4r] monachi nostre congregationis.

[18]

15K (4)

[19]

14K (1)

[20]

(2) 13K (2)

(4)

126. A adds 'in manerio sue de Wyklin'. 127. Found in A under 13 Kal Feb.

132

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[21]

12K (2) (4)

[22]

UK (2)

[23]

(3) (4) 10K (1) (2)

[24]

9K

(4) (2) (3)

Obiit Eiricus sacerdos et monachus nostre congregationis. Obiit Maria Abatissa de Berkin, soror beati Thomae martyris, et Willelmus sacerdos, eiusdem martyris capellanus. Obierunt Robertus frater noster et Godit soror nostra. Obierunt Elmerus et Edsinus et Edwinus sacerdotes, et Godefridus conversus, monachi nostre congregationis. Symon conversus, monachus Sancti Bertini. Et Wluiua soror nostra. Obiit Acelinus episcopus Rofensis, monachus nostre congregationis. Obierunt Goterus et Helyas sacerdotes, monachi nostre congregationis. Obierunt Erizo et Atta fratres nostri. Beatrix soror nostra. Obiit Johannes sacerdos et monachus nostre congregationis. Obiit Rodulfus conversus, qui dedit Tuitham Ecclesie Christi. Ricardus sacerdos et monachus Glastonie.

[fo. 4v]

[26]

7K

(2)128 (3) (2)

[27]

6K

(3) (2)

[28]

5K

(4) (2)

[29]

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[25]

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Obiit Ernoldus monachus Sancti Bertini.129 Obierunt Liuingus et Johannes sacerdotes et monachi nostre congregationis. Robertus sacerdos et monachus Glastonie. Obiit Elfnodus monachus nostre congregationis, qui dedit Orpintun Ecclesie Christi. Obiit Egelredus frater noster. Obierunt Elfwinus sacerdos, et Robertus sacerdos, Ruelandus conversus, monachi nostre congregationis. Obierunt Eilnodus et Dunstanus sacerdotes et monachi nostre congregationis. Obiit Thomas sacerdos, monachus Glastonie. Obiit Symon monachus Sancti Bertini. Guido sacerdos Dovorie, frater noster. Obiit Bartholmus sacerdos, Heriatus subdiaconus, monachi nostre congregationis. Obiit Willelmus Eliensis episcopus, frater et benefactor. Obierunt Edwardus et Robertus monachi nostre congregationis. Obiit Giomarus sacerdos et monachus de Holm.

(3) (4)

Obiit Lambertus monachus Sancti Bertini. Obiit Willelmus Comes de Arundel.

(3)

[30]

3K

[31]

2K

(4) (2)

[fo. 5r]

[February] [1]

K

128. Written and erased in column two are the words 'Obierunt Liuingus et Johannes, secardotes et monachi nostre congregationis'. This information was then rewritten in column two for the next day. 129. Written and erased in column three: 'Robertus sacerdos et monachus Glastonie'. This information was then rewritten in column three for the next day.

Christchurch's Sisters and Brothers: Canterbury Obituary Lists [2] [3]

4N 3N

(2) (2)

[4]

2N

(1) (2) (3) (4)

[5]

N

[6]

81

(3) (4) (2)

[7]

71

(3) (4) (2)

[8]

61

(3) (2) (3)

133

Obiit Augustinus monachus et sacerdos nostre congregationis. Obierunt Robertus sacerdos, Solomon sacerdos, monachi nostre congregationis. Obierunt reges Anglorum Egebertus et Atulfus filius eius. Obierunt Bengamin sacerdos et Lucas subdiaconus, monachi nostre congregationis. Obiit Soibrandus conversus, monachus Sancti Bertini, et Johannes sacerdos. Item obiit Magister Adam Remensis, frater et benefactor noster, et Baldewinus frater noster. Obiit Johannes monachus Sancti Bertini. Obierunt Robertus et Orgarus fratres nostri. Obierunt Gauterius prior. Item Tangmerus sacerdos, et Edwinus sacerdos, Ascelinus sacerdos, monachi nostre congretationis. Obiit Benedictus sacerdos et monachus de Feuersham. Obiit Jonathas frater noster, et Edelina soror nostra. Obiit Brihthelmus sacerdos et Paulinus, Willelmus sacerdos, Carolus sacerdos et monachus nostre congregationis. Obiit Robertus monachus Sancti Bertini. Obiit Haimo sacerdos et monachus nostre congregationis. Obiit Ricardus sacerdos et monachus Sancti Albani, Pater Adriani Papae, et Robertus prior Rameseie.130

[fo. 5v]

[9]

51

(2) (3) (4) (2) (4) (2)

[10]

41

[11]

31

[12]

21

(3) (1) (2)

[13]

I

(4) (2) (3)

[14] [15]

16K (3) 15K (2)

Obiit Hugo prior Dovorum, et Framboldus sacerdos et monachus nostre congregationis. Obierunt Gerardus et Eustachius sacerdotes, monachi Sancti Bertini. Obiit Radulfus de Lisewic. Obiit Godwinus et monachus nostre congregationis. Obiit Agnes, soror beati Thomae Martyris. Obierunt Abel et Eudo sacerdotes et monachi nostre congregationis. Obiit Willelmus conversus et monachus Sancti Bertini. Obiit Ethelgarus archiepiscopus. Obierunt Simon, Ysidorus et Gilbertus sacerdotes. et Karlemannus leuita, qui dedit Broke Ecclesie Christi, sacerdos et monachus nostre congregationis. Obiit Hamo de Valumes frater noster. Obiit Odo sacerdos et monachus nostre congregationis. Obiit Stephanus subdiaconus, monachus Sancti Bertini. Obiit Richardus sacerdos, monachus Glastonie. Obiit Guido monachus Sancti Bertini. Obierunt Maurus, et leronimus, et Johannes prior Douorum, sacerdotes et monachi nostre congregationis.

130. A hand is drawn in column four pointing to Pope Adrian's name. In the right hand margin is written 'Adriani'.

134

The Culture of Christendom (3)

[16]

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(4)

Obiit Turgisus, frater Theodbaldi archiepiscopi, monachus Sancte Marie Becci. Obiit Ricardus archiepiscopus, nostre congregationis monachus, qui ecclesias de Esteia, de Munketon, de Mapeham, de Einesford nobis restituit. Item obiit Egelwinus abbas de Evesham et Lefwinus, Nicholaus, Salomon et Robertus sacerdotes et monachi nostre congregationis. Obiit Ranulfus frater noster.

[fo. 6r]

[17]

13K (1) (2)

[18]

12K (2)

[19] [20]

(3) UK (2) 10K (2)

[21]

9K

[22]

8K

[23] 7K [24] 6K

(2) (3) (2) (4) (2)

Conradus abbas Sancti Benedicti de Holm. Obierunt Lucas et Macarius sacerdotes, et Siwardus diaconus, monachi nostre congregationis.131 Item obiit Ernulphus sacerdos et monachus nostre congregationis. Hylgerius sacerdos, monachus Glastonie. Obiit Elfstanus conversus et monachus nostre congregationis. Obierunt: Rogerius et Rogerus sacerdotes, monachi nostre congregationis. Obierunt Blakeman et Absalon sacerdotes et monachi nostre congregationis. Obiit Johannes sacerdos et monachus Sancti Bertini. Obiit Ricardus sacerdos et monachus nostre congregationis. Robertus frater noster. Obiit Benedictus sacerdos et monachus nostre congregationis.

[fo. 6v] [25] 5K [26] 4K

(4) (2)

[27]

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[28]

2K

(2) (3) (4)

Obiit Etheldritha soror et benefactrix nostra.132 Obiit Vitalis sacerdos, Egelredus leuita, monachi nostre congregationis. Obiit Benedictus abbas Cluniacensis. Obierunt Tancredus et Radulfus sacerdotes et monachi nostre congregationis. Obiit Godefridus diaconus, monachus nostre congregationis. Obiit Robertus subdiaconus, monachus Sancti Augustini. Obierunt Cole et Kazimarus fratres nostri.

131. This is followed by an erasure of 'Item obiit Ernulphus', which has been rewritten in column two of the next day. 132. London, British Library MS Royal, 7. E. vi calls this woman 'Aetheldritha soror filii jEsbearn Bigga' (Gerchow, Gedenkiiberlieferung, p. 274).

Christchurch's Sisters and Brothers: Canterbury Obituary Lists

135

[fo. 7r] [March} [I] [2] [3]

K 6N 5N

[4]

4N

[5]

3N

[6]

2N

(2) (1) (2) (4) (2) (3) (4) (2) (4) (2) (4)

[7]

N

(2)

[8]

81

(3) (1) (2) (3) (4)

Gregorius sacerdos, monachus nostre congregationis. Obiit Hugo de Douora. Robertus sacerdos et monachus nostre congregationis. Obiit Ediua monialis de Wilton, soror nostra. Obierunt Bartholomeus et Alanus sacerdotes et monachi nostre congregationis. Obiit Nicholaus monachus Sancti Bertini. Obiit Brithtwaldus frater noster. Obiit Diermannus sacerdos et monachus nostre congregationis. Obiit Emelina soror nostra. Obierunt Jacobus et Samson sacerdotes, et Gregorus leuita, monachi nostre congregationis. Obiit Ingerammus de Munchus frater noster, et Gunnilda soror nostra. Obierunt Gilebertus, Edmundus sacerdotes, monachi nostre congregationis. Petrus monachus Sancti Bertini. Obiit Gundulfus episcopus Roffensis, et Ymma regina. Obiit Willelmus de Einesford monachus nostre congregationis. Obiit Wimundus acolitus, monachus nostre congregationis. Robertus monachus Glastonie. Obiit Egiua soror et benefactrix nostra.

[fo. 7v]

[9]

71

[10]

61

(1) (2) (3) (2) (3) (4)

[II] 51

(1) (2)

[12]

41

(3) (2) (4)

[13]

31

(2)

Obiit Swerus rex Norweie, frater et benefactor. Obierunt Godwinus, Ernulfus, Gilebertus, Achardus, Warinus, Aluredus sacerdotes et monachi nostre congregationis. Obiit Guillelmus sacerdos et monachus Sancti Bertini. Obierunt Samson sacerdos, Osbernus subdiaconus, monachi nostre congregationis. Obierunt Symon et Odo monachi et sacerdotes. Obierunt Godwinus et Herewisus archidiaconus, et Elgarus presbiter, fratres nostri. Obiit Robertus episcopus Hereford. Obiit Elfwinus decanus, Robertus sacerdos et monachus nostre congregationis. Obiit Fremericus abbas Sancti Wlmeri Bolonie. Obiit Symon sacerdos et monachus nostre congregationis. Obiit Hereus de Monte Mauricii conversus et benefactor. Obiit Aldiua soror nostra. Obiit [Egelmerus]133 sacerdos et monachus nostre congregationis.

133. Written over an erasure.

136

The Culture of Christendom (4)

[14] 21

(2)

[15]

(1) (2)

I

(4) 17K (2) (3) (4)

[16]

Obiit Wlnothus conversus, qui dedit hospitalem Delblen134 Ecclesie Christi. Obiit et Rosa soror nostra. Anniversarium patrum et matrum. Obierunt Cornelius et Geruasius sacerdotes et monachi nostre congregationis. Obiit Ernulfus episcopus Roffensis. Obierunt Eilmerus, Robertus, Henricus sacerdotes, Baldewinus leuita, monachi nostre congregationis. Jordanus frater noster. Obiit Philippus subdiaconus, monachus nostre. Johannes conversus, monachus Sancti Bertini. Obiit Henricus Comes Tercas, frater noster.

[fo. 8r]

[17]

16K (2)

[18]

15K (2) (3)

[19] [20] [21]

[22] [23]

14K 13K (2) 12K (2)

(4) UK (2) 10K (2) (3) (4)

[24] [9]K135(1) (2) (3)

Obierunt Petrus et Florentius sacerdotes, et Benedictus subdiaconus, monachi nostre congregationis. Obierunt Vincentius et Robertus sacerdotes et monachi nostre congregationis. Obiit Geruasius sacerdos et monachus Sancti Bertini, et Herebertus monachus Glastonie. Obiit Normannus sacerdos et monachus nostre congregationis. Obiit Alexandus sacerdos, et Ricardus conversus, monachi nostre congregationis. Obiit Leuiua Dovorum soror benefactrix. Obiit Siwardus sacerdos et monachus nostre congregationis. Obiit Henricus sacerdos et monachus nostre congregationis. Obiit Willelmus conversus, monachus Sancti Bertini. Obiit Wlfgidus, qui dedit StiSstede et Cogeshales et Mereseie Ecclesie Christi. Lambertus Gargate frater noster, et Milesent soror et benefactrix nostra. Obiit Kenelfus rex et Wluredus archiepiscopus. Obierunt Normannus et136 Georgius sacerdotes et monachi nostre congregationis. Obiit Gwillelmus abbas Fiscanensis, Haimo sacerdos et monachus Glastonie.

[fo. 8v]

[25]

8K

[26]

7K

(1) (2) (3) (4)

Obiit Obiit Obiit Obiit Obiit

Herlewinus episcopus Likel'. Willelmus conversus, monachus nostre congregationis. Johannes, Johannes sacerdotes et monachi Sancti Bertini. Robertus sacerdos et monachus Glastonie. Atheliza regina.

134. A reads 'de Blen'. 135. Written over an erasure. 136. The name 'Johannes' has been deleted.

Christchurch's Sisters and Brothers: Canterbury Obituary Lists [27]

6K

(2)

[28] 5K

(4) (2) (4)

[29] 4K

(1) (2)

[30]

3K

[31]

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(2) (3) (4) (2) (3) (4)

137

Obierunt Joseph et Pancratius, Robertus sacerdotes et monachi nostre congregationis. Obiit Pharaona soror et benefactrix. Obierunt Egelrdus et Azo et Henricus sacerdotes et monachi nostre congregationis. Magister Simon de Suwel frater et benefactor, et Godwinus frater noster. Obiit Hugo abbas Sancti Augustini. Obierunt Ambrosius et Gaulterius sacerdotes, Wlfegus et Johannes leuite, monachi nostre congregationis. Obiit Godefridus sacerdos et monachus nostre congregationis. Obiit Johannes sacerdos et monachus Glastonie. Obiit Willelmus de Enisfot iiius, Alienor regina Anglic. Obierunt Westmennius, Salomon et Laurentius sacerdotes, monachi nostre congregationis. Obiit Edmundus subdiaconus, monachus Glastonie. Obierunt Albertus, Arnulfus fratres nostri.

[fo. 9r] [April] [1] [2]

K 4N

(2) (2)

[3]

3N

(2) (4)

[4]

2N

[5]

N

[6]

81

[7]

71

[8]

61

(2) (3) (4) (2) (4) (1) (2) (2) (4) (1) (2)

Obiit Lucas sacerdos. monachus nostre congregationis. Obiit Warinus prior Glouecestre, et Egelredus sacerdos, monachus nostre congregationis. Obierunt Coleman et Gerardus sacerdotes et monachi nostre congregationis. Obiit Rosamin [Lanfracus archiepiscopus].137 Obierunt Wlfwen et Elfgit sorores nostre. Obierunt Jonas, Jeremias sacerdotes, Asketillus conversus, monachi nostre congregationis. Obiit Clarembaldus abbas de Feuersham. Gilebertus frater noster. Obiit Helias sacerdos et monachus nostre congregationis. Adam de Saxingeherste frater et benefactor. Obiit Richardus rex Angliae. Obiit Lucas sacerdos et monachus nostre congregationis. Obierunt Gregorius et Symon sacerdotes et monachi nostre congregationis. Obiit Edgarus frater noster. Obiit Warinus archiepiscopus Bituricensis. Obiit Robertus sacerdos et monachus nostre congregationis.

[fo. 9v] [9]

51

(2)

Obierunt Wlfsinus, Elgarus, Eadnodus, Farmannus, Edwardus, Robertus sacerdotes, Augustinus leuita, monachi nostre congregationis.

137. Written over an erasure. A reads 'Rosa mater domini Lamfranci Archiepiscopi'.

138

The Culture of Christendom

[10] 41

(2) (3)

[11]

31

[12]

21

(1) (2) (3) (4) (2)

I

(3) (4) (2)

[13]

[14]

(3) 18K (2)

[15]

(3) 17K (2)

[16]

(4) 16K (2)

Obiit Albanus sacerdos et monachus nostre congregationis. Obiit Johannes sacerdos, monachus Sancti Bertini. Radulfus, monachus Glastonie. Obiit Nicholus episcopus Tuscul'. Obiit WlnoSus sacerdos et monachus nostre congregationis. Obiit Samuel monachus Sancti Augustini. Obiit Edilda soror nostra. Obiit Godwinus episcopus,138 Willelmus, Eustachius et Jonas sacerdotes et monachi nostre congregationis. Obiit Ysaac sacerdos et monachus Sancti Bertini. Goldwinus et Mathildus benefactores nostri. Obierunt Jeremias et Hugo sacerdotes et monachi nostre congregationis. Obiit Walandus sacerdos et monachus Glastonie. Obierunt Godwinus, Cristianus. Antonius, Edgarus, Nigellus sacerdotes et monachi nostre congregationis. Obiit Andreas subdiaconus, monachus Sancti Bertini. Obierunt Wluordus, Radulfus sacerdotes, Wlnothus et Thomas conversi, monachi nostre congregationis. Obiit Bolezlauus de Polonn frater noster. Obierunt Egelmerus et Martinus sacerdotes et monachi nostre congregationis.

[fo. lOr]

[17]

15K (2)

[18]

(3) 14K (1) (2)

[19]

(4) 13K (2) (3)

[20] [21]

(4) 12K (2)

[22]

UK (2) (3) 10K (2)

[23]

9K

(4) (1) (3) (4)

Obierunt Amandus sacerdos. Andreas leuita, monachi nostre congregationis. Obiit Willelmus conversus, monachus Sancti Bertini. Obiit Theodbaldus archiepiscopus. Obierunt Wluricus abbas, Arnoldus, Odo et Johannes sacerdotes, Semerus levita, monachi nostre congregationis. Et Flaaldus frater noster. Obierunt Petrus, Henricus monachi nostre congregationis. Obiit Herebertus conversus, monachus Glastonie. Petrus sacerdos, monachus Sancti Bertini. Cecilia de Scapeia soror et benefactrix nostra. Obierunt Abel et Honorius sacerdotes et monachi nostre congregationis. Obiit Sinothus sacerdos et monachus nostre congregationis. Obiit Symon subprior Sancti Bertini. Obierunt Odo et Rogerius sacerdotes, Wlmerus et Alexander conversi, monachi nostre congregationis. Obiit Liefredus frater et benefactor. Obiit Witherdus rex Anglorum et Ethelredus rex Anglorum. Obiit Nicholus sacerdos, et Reimbaldus subdiaconus, monachi Glastonie. Brithmerus frater noster.

138. This name should appear in column one.

Christchurch's Sisters and Brothers: Canterbury Obituary Lists [24] 8K (2) (4)

139

Obiit Hubertus sacerdos et monachus nostre congregationis. Obiit Elmerus frater noster.

[fo. lOv]

[25]

7K

(3)

[26]

6K

(2)

(3) [27] 5K (2)

[28]

[29]

4K

3K

(3) (4) (2)

(3) (4) (2) (3)

(4) (2) (3) [gathering missing]

[30]

2K

Obiit Johannes sacerdos, monachus Glastonie, Simon mtmachus Sancti Bertini. Obierunt Euerardus et Wibertus sacerdotes et monachi nostre congregationis. Obiit Ricard sacerdos monachus Sancti Bertini. Obiit Moyses sacerdos et monachus Glastonie. Obierunt Baldewinus et Osbernus sacerdotes, Arnulfus et Robertus leuite, monachi nostre congregationis. Obiit Baldewinus monachus Sancti Bertini. Obiit Johannes clericus, frater et benefactor noster. Obierunt Godefridus et Ascerus, Meroaldus, Germanus, Honorius, Vitalus et Rogerius sacerdotes et monachi nostre congregationis. Obiit Robertus abbas Glastonie. Hardingus monachus Glastonie. Et Heila soror nostra. Obiit Wlwinus sacerdos et monachus nostre congregationis. Obiit Garrinus abbas de Sancto Albano. Ricardus et Ranulfus monachi Glastonie. Ri Obiit Theodbaldus sacerdos et monachus nostre congregationis. Obiit Pontius prior de Monte Acuto.

[fo. llr]

[September] [1]

K

(2) (3) (4) (2) (4)

[2]

4N

[3]

3N

[4]

2N

(2) (3) (4) (2)

[5]

N

(2)

[6]

81

(2) (3) (4)

Obiit Vitalis monachus et conversus nostre congregationis. Obiit Willelmus monachus Sancti Bertini. Obierunt Edwinus frater noster, et Emma soror nostra. Obiit Asketllus monachus, sacerdos nostre congregationis. Obiit Oda soror et benefactrix nostra, et Werriua soror nostra. Obiit Odo sacerdos et monachus nostre congregationis. Obiit Baldewnus monachus Sancti Bertini. Et Godsune frater noster. Obierunt Petrus sacerdos, et Radulfus sacerdos, Felix sacerdos, et Willelmus diaconus, monachi nostre congregationis. Obierunt Osbernus139 electus de Mucheleneie, et Willelmus sacerdos, Rogerus subdiaconus, monachi nostre congregationis. Obiit Elfwinus nostre monachus congregationis. Obiit Wido abbas Sancti Remigii Rems'. Obiit Lefstanus qui dedit Suthchereche Ecclesie Christi.

139. Written over an erasure.

140

The Culture of Christendom

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71

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61

(1) (2)

(4) (2)

Obiit Willelmus Remensis archiepiscopus. Obierunt Elfrichus sacerdos, Philippus sacerdos, Thomas sacerdos, Hunfridus sacerdos, Baldewinus sacerdos, Abel sacerdos, monachi nostre congregationis. Nigellus frater noster. Obiit Robertus abbas de Einesham, subprior Ecclesie Christi Cantuarie, Wlfricus sacerdos, et Orgarus monachi nostre congregationis.

[fo. llv] [9]

51

(1) (2)

[10] 41

(2) (3)

[11] 31

(2)

[12]

21

(3) (2)

[13]

I

(4) (2)

[14] [15]

[16]

(3) 18K (2) (3) 17K (2) (3) (4) 16K (2) (4)

Obiit Willelmus rex Anglorum. Obiit Scothlandus abbas Sancti Augustini. Edricus et Brumngus, Elferus, Adam sacerdotes et monachi nostre congregationis. Obiit Wlnothus sacerdos et monachus nostre congregationis. Obierunt Baldewnus et Lambertus monachi Sancti Bertini, Willelmus et Samuel sacerdotes et monachi Glastonie. Obierunt Jacobus, Adam, Johannes, Rogerus, Josep sacerdotes et monachi nostre congregationis. Obiit Adam monachus Sancti Bertini. Obierunt Symon leuita, Elfwordus, Clemens et Hugo sacerdotes, Audoenus subdiaconis, monachi nostre congregationis. Obiit Anselmus frater noster. Obierunt Johannes, Rogerius, Ricardus sacerdotes et monachi nostre congregationis. Baldewinus sacerdos et monachus Glastonie. Obiit Gilebertus sacerdos, monachus nostre congregationis. Baldewinus monachus Sancti Bertini. Obiit Augustinus sacerdos, monachus nostre congregationis. Obiit Albertus monachus Sancti Bertini. Obiit Aluredus frater et benefactor. Obierunt Gualterus, Anselmus et Randulfus sacerdotes et monachi nostre congregationis. Obiit Wimarcha soror nostra.

[fo. 12r]

[17]

15K (1) (2) (3) (4)

[18] [19]

14K (2) (4) 13K (2)

[20]

12K

(4)

Obiit Lodovicus rex Francorum. Obierunt Hugo leuita et Rogerius sacerdos, monachi nostre congregationis. Obiit Patricius abbas de Dumfermelin. Obiit Gilebertus, pater beati Thomae Martyris, Radulfus frater noster, et Emma soror nostra. Obiit Ernoldus sacerdos et monachus nostre congregationis. Symon frater noster. Obiit Hylarius et Honorius sacerdotes et monachi nostre congregationis. Eluiua soror nostra.

Christchurch's Sisters and Brothers: Canterbury Obituary Lists [21]

UK (2) (4)

[22]

10K (2)

[23]

9K

(3) (4) (2)

[24]

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(2) (3) (4)

141

Obiit Warinus prior Douorie, Edwius et Radulfus sacerdotes, monachi nostre congregationis. Obierunt Walterus precentor Londoniensis, Magister Reginaldus de Merston et Fulbertus fratres nostri, et Dulcelina soror nostra. Obierunt Martius sacerdos, et Haymo sacerdos, Eilfwinus leuita et Wluordus conversus, monachi nostre congregationis. Obiit Willelmus monachus Sancti Bertini. Obiit Malgerius, pater Theodbaldi archiepiscopi. Obiit Warnerius abbas de Bello, Hermannus et Henricus et Osbernus sacerdotes et monachi nostre congregationis. Obiit Laurentius sacerdos, Abel acolitus, monachi nostre congregationis. Obierunt Arnoldus et Reinaldus sacerdotes et monachi Glastonie. Matildis, quae dedit Merseham et Agana Ecclesie Christi. Gundulfus, pater Anselmi archiepiscopi, Gocelinus frater noster, et Liuesta soror nostra.

[fo. 12v]

[25]

7K

(2)

[26]

6K

(2)

[27]

5K

(2) (4)

[28]

4K

(2)

[29]

3K

(4) (2)

(3)

Obiit Robertus abbas Cestransis monachus nostre congregationis. Item obiit Osmundus leuita, monachus nostre congregationis. Obierunt Godefridus et Nigellus sacerdotes et monachi nostre congregationis. Obierunt Dionisius, Theodorus, Anselmus sacerdotes, et Gregorius leuita, monachi nostre congregationis. Obiit Matildis de Bourn soror et benefactrix nostra. Elfricus et Wlwi fratres nostri, et Heleuuisa reclusa. Obiit Farmannus et Ilgerius sacerdotes et monachi nostre congregationis. Vitalus frater noster, et Sirith soror nostra. Obiit abbas de Burgo Benedictus monachus nostre congregationis et benefactor noster, pro quo fiet servitium sicut pro uno archiepiscopo. Item obiit Germanus sacerdos et monachus nostre congregationis. Obiit Rogius subdiaconus, monachus Glastonie.

[30] 2K [fo. 13r] [October] [1]

K

[2]

6N

[3]

5N

(2) (3) (2) (3) (4) (2)

Obiit Robertus sacerdos et monachus nostre congregationis. Obiit Thomas monachus Sancti Bertini. Obiit Samson sacerdos et monachus nostre congregationis. Obiit Gvillelmus prior Glastonie, Henricus sacerdos et monachus Sancti Bertini. Obiit Johannes frater et benefactor noster. Obierunt Walterus, Osbernus, Robertus sacerdotes et monachi nostre congregationis.

142

The Culture of Christendom

4N

(4) (2)

[5]

3N

(3) (4) (2)

[6]

2N

(3) (2)

[4]

(3) [7]

N

(1) (2) (3)

[8]

81

(2) (3) (4)

Obiit Elildritha soror nostra. Obierunt Wlfredus subdiaconus et Salustius sacerdos, monachi nostre congregationis. Obiit Thomas prior Glastonie. Wluordus frater noster. Obierunt Daniel, Bernardus, Arnoldus sacerdotes, et Guthredus puer, monachi nostre congregationis. Obiit Baldewinus puersus Sancti Bertini. Obierunt Elfwinus et Gauterius sacerdotes et monachi nostre congregationis. Obiit Sewlo sacerdos et monachus Sancti Martini Sagii, Eueroldus monachus Sancti Bertini. Obiit Hugo Lugdoniensis archiepiscopus. Obierunt Sefredus et Egelmerus sacerdotes et monachi nostre congregationis. Obiit Arnoldus monachus Sancti Bertini. Obiit Petrus monachus Sancti Augustini. Obierunt Ankenus, Matheus, Ricardus sacerdotes, Robertus conversus, monachi nostre congregationis. Obierunt Baldeuinus monachus Sancti Bertini. Robertus monachus Glastonie. Obierunt Robertus films Ricard frater et benefactor noster. Wluiua soror et benefactrix nostra.

[fo. 13v] [9]

71

(2)

(3)

[10] [11]

61 51

[12] 41

(4) (2) (2) (3) (4) (1) (2) (3)

[13]

31

(3) (4)

[14]

21

(1) (2) (3) (4)

Obierunt Siricus, Ricardus, Simon sacerdotes, Johannes leuita. Item Manerius sacerdos, Blitherus conversus, monachi nostre congregationis. Obierunt Symon et Baldewinus sacerdotes et monachi Sancti Bertini. Vincintius sacerdos et monachus Sancti Augustini. Albreda et Edilda sorores nostre. Obiit Robertus sacerdos et monachus nostre congregationis. Obiit Obiit Symon sacerdos et monachus Sancti Bertini. Obiit Gauterius, pater Huberti archiepiscopi. Obiit Ceodwala rex Angliae et Kenedritha regina, conjux eius. Obiit Willelmus subdiaconus, monachus nostre congregationis. Gauterius conversus, monachus Glastonie, Johannes monachus, et Lambertus conversus, monachi Sancti Bertini. Obiit Rogerius monachus Glastonie. Obiit Godwinus frater noster, et Adeliza soror et benefactrix nostra. Obiit Gaufridus abbas de Dumfermelin. Obierunt Egelwinus et Wulurichus monachi nostre congregationis. Bartholommus monachus Sancti Bertini. Obierunt Ysabel comitissa Glouernie, soror et benefactrix nostra, Wlfredus frater noster, eorum quoque aniversarium est, qui occubuerunt in praelio apud bataliam.

Christchurch's Sisters and Brothers: Canterbury Obituary Lists [15] [16]

I (3) 17K (1) (3) (4)

143

Obiit Gozelinus monachus Sancti Bertini. Obiit Nothelmus archiepiscopus monachus nostre congregationis. Siluester sacerdos, monachus Sancti Andre Rofensis. Wlwinus frater noster, Aliz soror et benefactrix nostra.

[fo. 14r]

[17]

16K (2) (3) (4)

[18]

15K (1)

[19] [20]

(2) 14K (2) 13K (1) (2) (4)

[21]

12K (1)

[22]

(4) UK (2) (3)

[23]

10K (2)

Obierunt Robertus Taluel, Gilebert sacerdotes. monachi nostre congregationis. Robertus sacerdos et monachus Glastonie. Eteldritha soror et benefactrix nostra, pro qua expenduntur in refrectorio xx solidi. Obiit Johannes rex Anglorum. Obiit Johannes de Grai Norwici episcopus. Obiit Solomon sacerdos et monachus nostre congregationis. Henricus subdiaconus. monachus nostre congregationis. Obiit Radulfus archiepiscopus. Obierunt Dirmon et Azo sacerdotes, et Osbernus leuita, monachi nostre congregationis. Obiit Haymo vicecomes frater noster. Obiit Robertus comes Leicestre benefactor. Obiit Rogerius abbas Sancti Augustini. Obiit prior Honorius apud Romam. Obiit Ricardus frater noster. Obierunt Ricardus, Henricus, Gauterius sacerdotes, et Salomon leuita, monachi nostre congregationis. Obiit Reginaldus sacerdos et monachus Glastonie. Obiit Baldewinus sacerdos, monachus Rofensis. Obierunt Lefhelmus, Turkillus, Sewoldus, Samuel et Petrus sacerdotes, Edmerus et Godricus levite, monachi nostre congregationis.

[24]

9K

(1) (4)

Obiit Johannes Carnotensis episcopus. Obiit Willelmus frater noster.

(1)

Obiit Stephanus rex Anglorum. Obiit Cuthbertus archiepiscopus. Obierunt Egelwinus, Dauidus, Augustinus sacerdotes et monachi nostre congregationis. Obierunt Robertus abbas de Burgo, Willelmus monachus Sancti Bertini, Hugo monachus Cadoniensis Ecclesie. Obierunt Gosfridus et Dalmatius de Luci fratres nostri. Obiit Henrcus et monachus sacerdos Glastonie. Obierunt Robertus frater noster, Juliana soror et benefactrix. Obiit Philippus sacerdos et monachus Rofensis. Obierunt Robertus et Radulfus monachi Glastonie. Obiit Johannes frater noster. Obierunt reges Anglorum Eluredus et Ethelstanus. Obierunt archiepiscopi Egelnothus et Sirichus.

[fo. 14v]

[25]

8K

(2) (3)

[26]

7K

[27]

6K

(4) (3) (4) (3)

[28] 5K

(4) (1)

144

The Culture of Christendom (2)

Obierunt Edsinus, Wluredus, Matheus conversi. Obierunt Willelmus et Augustinus sacerdotes, monachi nostre congregationis. (3) Obierunt Lambertus et Germanus sacerdotes et monachi Sancti Bertini. Obiit Rocelinus et monachus Glastonie. (4) Obiit Egelnothus frater noster. [29] 4K (1) Obiit Robertus abbas Sancti Albani. (2) Obiit Hermerus Diaconus monachus nostre congregationis. (3) Obiit Normannus monachus Glastonie. [30] 3K (2) Obiit Siwardus episcopus Ubsalensis. Obierunt Michael et Gaufridus sacerdotes et monachi nostre. (3) Obiit Willelmus prior de Hertford. [31] 2K (2) Obierunt Dunstanus et Johannes sacerdotes et monachi nostre congregations. [Gergorius, Johannes, Johannes sacerdotes et monachi nostre congregationis. Johannes monachus Sancti Bertini. Gerardus monachus Northwice. Robertus, Johannes, Ricardus, Philippus, Elfredus, Magister Robertus de Ffeversham fratres nostri.]140

[fo. 15r] [November] [1]

K

(2) (3)

[2]

4N

[3]

3N

[4]

2N

[5] [6] [7]

(4) (1) (2) (4) (1) (2)

(4) (1) (2) (3) [N]'« 81 (2) (4) 71 (2) (3)

Obierunt Egelwardus, Robertus, Adam sacerdotes et monachi nostre congregationis. Obiit Guillelmus sacerdos et Wiselo conversus, monachi Sancti Bertini. Obiit Mabilia Comitissa Ebroicens, soror et benefactrix nostra. Obiit Matilda regina. Obiit Osbernus sacerdos et monachus nostre congregationis. Obiit Ermenberga, mater Anselmi archiepiscopi, Radulfus et Eua. Obiit Theodbaldus Hostiensis episcopus. Obierunt Golstanus, Viuianus sacerdotes et monachi, Sammuel leuita, Reinaldus et Gauterius conversi, monachi nostre congregationis. Obiit Willelmus frater noster. Obiit141 Obiit Stephanus sacerdos et monachus nostre congregationis. Adamus monachus Glastonie. Obiit Obiit Willelmus de Einesford unus frater et benefactor noster. Obiit Willelmus sacerdos et monachus nostre congregationis. Obiit Reinal sacerdos, et Ricardus diaconus, monachi Sancti Bertini.

140. Written in a later hand. 141. The words 'Theodbaldus Hostiensis Episcopus' have been erased. 142. Date dropped from the calendar.

Christchurch's Sisters and Brothers: Canterbury Obituary Lists [8] [9]

61 51

145

(2)

Obierunt Vrsus, Ulricus, Zacharias sacerdotes et monachi nostre congregationis.

41 31

(2) (2) (4)

[12] 21

(1)

Obiit Elfnothus leuita, monachus nostre congregationis. Obiit Wluordus sacerdos et monachus nostre congregationis. Obiit Hugo Maimot, qui Ecclesie Christi ecclesiam de Quening et xii mansuras. Obiit Cnuth rex Anglorum. Obiit Haldan princeps, qui dedit Hethe et Salwode Ecclesie Christi. Obierunt Edward, Walterus et Edward sacerdotes, Jordanus leuita, monachi nostre congregationis. Adam frater noster. Obiit Wlfhelmus acolitus, monachus nostre congregationis. Obiit Blakeman sacerdos et monachus Sancti Augustini. Obiit Estrild de Dunfermel et Ligiua sorores nostre. Obiit Edumudus Dechert subdiaconus, monachus nostre congregationis. Obierunt Martinus, Elfucus et Samuel, Robertus sacerdotes, et Elwius puer, monachi nostre congregationis. Johannes sacerdos, monachus Sancti Bertini. Obierunt Osbernus et Anna, pater et mater Gerardi archiepiscopi, et Petrus, frater eius, et Willelmus de Mandeuile frater noster. Obiit Hugo abbas Sancti yEdmundi. Obierunt Gerardus et Ricardus sacerdotes et monachi nostre congregationis. Obiit Magister Symon Cancellarius et canonicus Rothomagensis frater et benefactor.

[fo. 15v]

[10] [11]

(2)

[13]

[14]

(4) (2) (3) (4) 18K (1) I

(2) (3) (4)

[15]

17K (1) (2) (4)

[16] [17]

16K 15K (2)

Obiit Wluordus diaconus, monachus nostre congregationis.

[fo. 16r] [18]

14K (1) (2) (3)

[19] [20]

13K (3) 12K (1) (2)

[21] [22]

UK (1) 10K (1)

Obiit Ricardus episcopus Constansiensis et Jocelinus episcopus Salesberiensis. Obierunt Furseus et Rogerius sacerdotes et monachi nostre congregationis. Obierunt Gregorius sacerdos et monachus Glocestrie, et Hugo conversus, monachus Sancti Bertini. Obiit Reinerus subdiaconus et monachus Sancti Bertini. Obiit Baldewinus archiepiscopus. Item Albrichus Hostiensis episcopus. Obiit Robertus sacerdos, et Robertus conversus, monachi nostre congregationis. Obiit Willelmus Archiepiscopus. Obiit Magister Herebertus de Boseham frater noster. Obiit Algodus abbas Sancti Audoeni.

146

The Culture of Christendom (2)

[23]

9K

(3) (1) (2)

[24] [25]

8K 7K

Obierunt Lefstanus, Jacobus, Astelinus, Radulfus sacerdotes, et Sigarus conversus, monachi nostre congregationis. Obiit Johannes conversus, monachus Sancti Bertini. Obiit Ederedus rex Anglorum, qui dedit Tytham et Raculue Ecclesie Christi. Obiit Donatus episcopus Dublinie, et Kinsinus decanus, monachi nostre congregationis.

(2)

Obiit Benedictus sacerdos et monachus nostre congregationis.

Obierunt Liuingus, Elfricus et Brandanus sacerdotes et monachi nostre congregationis. Obiit Liefwara soror nostra. Obierunt Merwaldus, Andreas leuite, Brithrichus, Stephanus, Godefridus, Wluordus, [Osmundus],143 Nicholaus, Willelmus sacerdotes et monachi nostre congregationis. Obiit Eifwinus, qui dedit Ecclesie Christi hweruium Londini, et Osmundus fratres nostri. Obierunt Osbernus et Willelmus sacerdotes et monachi nostre congregationis, et Ascelinus sacerdos, monachus nostre congregationis. Obiit Gwillelmus monachus Glastonie. Obiit Sewardus monachus Bathonie. Obiit Salomon leuita, monachus Sancti Bertini. Obierunt Wlfgieue et WluiS sorores nostre. Obierunt Symon et Scothlandus sacerdotes, et Radulfus subdiaconus, monachi nostre congregationis. Obierunt Elfegus et Adam sacerdotes et monachi nostre congregationis. Obiit Heribaldus, pater144 Lanfranci archiepiscopi.

[fo. 16v]

[26]

6K

(2)

[27]

5K

(4) (2)

(4)

[28]

4K

(2)

(3)

[29]

3K

(4) (2)

[30]

2K

(2) (4)

[fo. 17r] [December] [1]

K

(1)

(2)

[2]

4N

(4) (2) (4)

Obiit rex Anglorum Henricus i, qui dedit in dotam Ecclesie Christi ecclesiam Sancti Martini Douorum, cum omnibus pertinentibus suis. Obiit Wlwinus sacerdos, monachus nostre congregationis. [Obiit Thomas de Niwesolo frater et benefactor.]145 Obiit Laurentius Perpercorn benefactor. Obierunt Paulus sacerdos, Sigarus subdiaconus, monachi nostre congregationis. Obiit Gaufridus de Niweport frater noster.

143. Deleted. 144. The word 'Anselmi' has been deleted. 145. A red mark indicates that this information is in the wrong column. It should be placed in column four.

Christchurch's Sisters and Brothers: Canterbury Obituary Lists [3]

3N

(1) (2) (3)

[4]

2N

(2)

[5]

N

(2) (3) (4)

[6]

81

(2)

[7]

71

(4) (2)

[8]

61

(3) (2) (3) (4)

147

Obiit Dominus Lotarius Pisanus archiepiscopus, frater noster. Obiit Ernegrimus monachus nostre congregationis. Obierunt Sampson sacerdos, et Radulfus subdiaconus, monachi Glastonie. Obierunt Michael sacerdos, et Mauricius diaconus, monachi nostre congregationis. Obierunt Sebastianus sacerdos, Georgiuso subdiaconus, Geldwardus conversus, monachi nostre congregationis. Obiit Briaennus prior, prior Rofensis. Obiit Radulfus sacerdos, monachus Sancti Bertini. Obiit Thomas de Sancto Walerico frater noster. Obiit Radulfus frater noster, et Liuiua soror nostra. Obierunt Willelmus Brito et Thomas sacerdotes et monachi nostre congregationis. Obiit Elena ducissa Poloniae. Obiit Tualterus Couentrensis episcopus et Jacobus sacerdos et monachus nostre congregationis. Obiit Daniel monachus sacerdos Sancti Bertini. Obierunt Baldewnus et Willelmus et Symon sacerdotes et monachi nostre congregationis. Obiit Willelmus sacerdos et monachus Glastonie. Obiit Osbernus frater noster.

[fo. 17v] [9]

51

(2) (4)

[10]

41

(2)

[11] [12]

31 21

(2)

[13]

I

(2) (3)

[14] [15] [16]

(4) 19K (2) 18K (4) 17K (3) (4)

Obierunt Anselmus abbas Sancti Benedicti de Holm. Asketillus et Robertus sacerdotes et monachi nostre congregationis. Obiit Berbem frater noster. Obiit Eufemia abbatissa de Gisnes soror et benefactrix. Obiit Brithtiua soror. Obierunt Ordbrithus et Gauterius sacerdotes et monachi nostre congregationis. Obiit Elwinus decanus, Osbernus conversus, monachi nostre congregationis. Obierunt Paulus et Mathias sacerdotes et monachi nostre congregationis. Adam sacerdos, monachus, Romanus leuita. Osbernus sacerdos et monachus Sancti Bertini. Obiit Eluredus frater noster. Obiit Willelmus sacerdos et monachus nostre congregationis. Obiit Gilebertus frater noster. Obiit Radulfus monachus Glastonie. Obierunt Simon de Mulins amicus et benefactor, Godit et Auelina sorores nostre.

[fo. 18r] [17]

16K (2)

Obierunt Radulfus, Ypolitus, Alexander, Johannes, Johannes et Johannes sacerdotes et monachi nostre congregationis.

148

The Culture of Christendom (3) (4)

[18] 15K [19] 14K [20] 13K (2) [21] 12K (2) [22]

UK (1) (2) (3) (4)

[23]

10K (2)

[24]

9K

(3) (2) (4)

Ricardus diaconus monachus de Burgo. Ysabel soror et benefactrix nostra.

Obiit Osbernus sacerdos et monachus nostre congregationis. Obierunt Egelricus, Wilelmus et Hugo sacerdotes et monachi nostre congregationis. Obiit Ricardus episcopus Wintoniae. Obierunt ^gemundus, Robertus, Alamerius sacerdotes et monachi nostre congregationis. Obierunt Walterius et Baldewinus sacerdotes, monachi Sancti Bertini. Obiit Robertus frater noster. Obierunt Wlgiua et Leta sorores nostre. Obierunt Salomon et Willelmus sacerdotes et monachi nostre congregationis. Johannes sacerdos et monachus Glastonie. Obiit Radulfus sacerdos, Frewinus conversus, monachi nostre congregationis. Obierunt Erningerus de Bourn et Helias fratres nostri.

[fo. 18v] [25]

8K

[26]

7K

(2) (3) (1)

[27] [28]

6K 5K

(2) (3) (3) (2)

[29]

4K

[30]

3K

[31]

2K

(4) (2) (4) (1) (2) (3) (4) (2) (4)

Obiit Florentius sacerdos et monachus nostre congregationis. Obiit Petrus abbas Cluniacensis. Obiit Reginaldus Batoniensis episcopus, quondam Cantuarie electus, pro quo fiet servitium sicut pro uno archiepiscopo. Obiit Godwinus subdiaconus, monachus nostre congregationis. Obiit Brandanus sacerdos, monachus Sancti Augustini. Obiit Ricardus abbas Sancti Audoeni Rothomagiae. Obierunt Martinus deaconus, luo subdiaconus, monachi nostre congregationis. Obiit Emma soror nostra. Obierunt Ernulfus et Robertus monachi nostre congregationis. Eudo films Sigari.146 Willelmus frater noster. Obiit Samson abbas Sancti Edmundi. Obiit Hugo sacerdos, monachus Sancti Bertini. Obiit Gaufridus de Gestlinge. Obiit Sbernus prior Dovorie, Placidus leuita, monachi nostre congregationis. Cecilia de Morvilla.

146. Under 4 Kal Jan A notes that 'Eudo son of Sigar, for whose soul Eudo his son gave Christchurch Canterbury a stone messuage with what pertained to it and freely rendered four shillings and eight pence, our brother and benefactor'.

Christchurch's Sisters and Brothers: Canterbury Obituary Lists

149

Index Locorum147 Adisham, Kent (N: Edesham; 14 Kal Feb) (A; 13 Kal Feb) Agney (in Old Romney), Kent (G: Hagene; 8 Kal Oct) (A: Aganam) (N: Aga.no) Appledore, Kent (G: Apeldre; 2 Id Nov) Barfreston, Kent (G: Hesdestegingeland; 9 Kal Apr) (A: Hedesreddyngesland) Barham, Kent (G: Bereham; 9 Kal Apr) (A; Bereham) Barham, Kent (G: Burnam; 3 Id May) Barton Court (nr Canterbury, Kent), wood in (G: siluam Catur, 6 Kal Feb) (A Berthonam; 2 Non Feb) Bersted, Sussex (G: Bergansteda; 4 Id Oct) (A: Berkhamstede) Bexley, Kent (G: Bixle; 9 Kal Apr) Bingley's Island in Canterbury, Kent (G: Eyn\ 9 Kal Apr) (A: Binnene) Bishopsbourne, Kent (G: Eburne; 9 Kal Apr) (A: Burne) Bishopsbourne, Kent (G: Burcham; 3 Id May) (A: Burnam; 4 Id May) Blean Wood, Kent (G: Blan de Harege; 3 Id Aug) (A: Blean et Henrege) Booking, Essex (G: Bokinge; 10 Kal Aug) Bognor, Sussex (G: Bucgrenota; 4 Id Oct) (A: Brigenore) Botwell, Middlesex (G: Botelle; 9 Kal April) (A: Botewelle] Britwell Prior, Oxfordshire (G: Brutewelle; 8 Id Mar) Brook, Kent (G: Brok; 2 Non Feb) (A: 2 Id Feb) Buckholt Farm (in Petham Parish), Kent (G: Ocolt; 3 Id Aug) (A: Hotholt) Canterbury, Kent, six masurae next to Eadburgewelle (G: sex mansuras in Dorobernia iuxta Eadburgewell; 3 Id May) Canterbury, Kent, 72 mansiones (G: septuaginta duas mansiones in civitate Cantuarie; Kal Jul)

Caseborne (lost in Cheriton), Kent (G: Easiburne; 9 Kal Apr) (A: Casinborne) Charing, Kent (G: Cherringes; 3 Id May) Charlton, Sussex (G: Cerenotum; 4 Id Oct) (A: Ceretonn) Chart, Kent (G: Chert; 6 Kal Feb) (A: 2 Non Feb) Chart, Great, Kent (G: Selesbertes Chert, Benigland; 3 Id May) Chartham, Kent (G: Cherteham; Non Jan) Cheam, Surrey (G: Chetham; 2 Id Jun) (A: Cheyham) Cleder (G: Cleder, 6 Kal Feb) (A: 2 Non Feb) Coggeshall, Essex (G: Coges hale; 3 Id Mar) (A: 10 Kal Apr) (N: Cogeshales; 10 Kal Apr) Combe, Middlesex (G: Cumbe, 9 Kal Apr) Cooling, Kent (G: Culinge; 8 Kal Sep) (B: Culinges; 8 Kal Sep) Copton, Kent (G: Copenstane, 9 Kal Apr) Crimsham, Sussex (G: Grimmesham; 4 Id Oct) Delham (G: Delham; 6 Kal Feb) (A: 2 Non Feb) Dunualdingdene (lost, in Tenterden), Kent (G: Dumwaldindene; 3 Id Aug) Ealdintun, (lost, on Isle of Thanet nr Minster), Kent (G: Aldintone; 8 Kal Sep) (B: Ealdintun; 8 Kal Sep) Easole, Kent (G: Eisham; 9 Kal Apr) (A: Hese] East Stour Farm, Kent (G: Estrewaldintonn; 9 Kal Apr) (A: East Stour) Eastry, Kent (G: Eastrege; 9 Kal Apr) (A: Estrege) Ebony, Isle of Oxney (G: Ebbecie; 6 Kal Feb) (A: Elbene; 2 Non Feb) Eleigh, Suffolk (G: Illeghe; 3 Id Aug)

147. All places appearing in G can also be found in A. Information in A has only been included here if placename forms vary significantly, or if A's dates are different from G's.

150

The Culture of Christendom

Elmstead, Kent (G: Elmestede; 9 Kal Apr) Eythorne, Kent (G: Hegcorne; 9 Kal Apr) (A: Eathelthorne) Farleigh, Kent (G: Farleghe; 8 Kal Sep) (A: Ffarnleghe) (B: Fearnlege; 8 Kal Sep) Folcwininglond (in Eastry), Kent (G: Floguntingeland; 9 Kal Apr) (A: Folquesland) Folkestone, Kent (G: Folkestane; 5 Kal Nov) Folkestone, Kent (G: Folkestane; 2 Id Nov) Giddinge, Kent (G: Geddinge; 9 Kal .Apr) Giddinge, Kent (G: Geddinge; 4 Id Oct) Godmersham, Kent (G: Godinsham; 9 Kal Apr) Graveney, Kent (G: Grauene; 9 Kal Apr) Greatness, Kent (G: Gretenerst; 9 Kal Apr) Hadleigh, Suffolk (G: Hadlege; 3 Id Aug) Harrow, Middlesex (G: Heges; 9 Kal Apr) Hayes, Kent (G: Lingenhese; 3 Id Aug) Hazelhurst, Lower, Sussex (G: Heselerste; 2 Id Nov) Hollingbourne, Kent (G: Holingeburne; 7 Kal Jul) Horsley, East, Surrey (G: Horsleie; 15 Kal Aug) Hythe, Kent (G: Hedere; 2 Id Nov) (N: Hethe; 2 Id Nov) Ibentea (in the district of Faversham), Kent (G: Boutone; 9 Kal Apr) (A Ibintone) Ickham, Kent (G; Jetham; 3 Id Aug) Kingsland (lost, in Faversham Hundred), Kent (G: Kyngesculand; 9 Kal Apr) (A: Kingestuland) Langdon (in Eythorne), Kent (G: Langedone; 9 Kal Apr) Langham (lost in Rolverden), Kent (G: Langebunebertonn; 6 Kal Feb) (A: Langeburnam; 2 Non Feb)

Lawling, Essex (G: Lellinge; 3 Id Aug) Lenham, Kent (G: Lenham; 8 Kal Sep) (B: Leanham; 8 Kal Sep) London, at Atbredeshede (G: Londonn ad Atbredeshede; 5 Kal Nov) London, a wharf (G: Londonn; 5 Kal Dec) (B: hpwearf; 5 Kal Dec) (N: 5 Kal Dec) Mailing, East, Sussex (G: Mallinge; 6 Kal Feb) (A: 2 Non Feb) Madginford, Kent (G: Migel de Werda; 9 Kal Apr) (A: Megeldewrtha] Meletone, nr Kemsing, Kent (G: Meletone; 9 Kal Apr) Meopham, Kent (G: Mepeham; 8 Kal Sep) (B: Meapeham; 8 Kal Sep) Mersea, West, Essex (G: Mereseye; 3 Id Mar) (A: 10 Kal Apr) (N: Mereseie; 10 Kal Apr) Mersea, Essex (G: Mereseye; 10 Kal Aug) Mersham, Kent (G: Merseham; 8 Kal Oct) (N: Merseham; 8 Kal Oct) Merstham, Surrey (G: Mesteham; 2 Id Jun) (A: Merseham) Mylentun (nr Kemsing), Kent (G: Middeltonn; Kal Jun) Misleham, Kent (G: Misteham; 6 Kal Feb) (A: Misamham; 2 Non Feb) Monkton, Kent (G: Moneketonn; 8 Kal Sep) (B: Muneketon; 8 Kal Sep) Mundham, North and South, Sussex (G: Mundenham and aliud Mundenham; 4 Id Oct) Napwood (in Rainham), Kent (G: Appingeland; 9 Kal Apr) Newington, Oxfordshire (G: Newintonn; 8 Id Mar) Newintonn (G: Newintonn; Kal Jul) (A: Sywenturi) Odiam Farm (in Oxney Hundred), Kent (G: Ofneham; 6 Kal Feb) (A: 2 Non Feb) Orpington, Kent (G: Orpintone; Non Jan) (A: 7 Kal Feb) (N: 6 Kal Feb) Ostrinde (G: Ostrinde; 6 Kal Feb) (A: Ostrindenne; 2 Non Feb) Otford, Kent (G: Ottoforde; 9 Kal Apr) Pagham, Sussex (G: Pageham; 4 Id Oct)

Christchurch's Sisters and Brothers: Canterbury Obituary Lists Palmstead, Kent (G: Berhamstede; 3 Id Aug) (A: Perhamstede) Palstre, Kent (G: Palstre; 2 Id Nov) Peckham, Kent (G: Pecham; 8 Kal Sep) (B: Peccham; 8 Kal Sep) Preston (nr Faversham), Kent (G: Prestone; 7 Kal Jul) (A: 7 Kal Jun) Reculver, Kent (G: Raculure; 9 Kal Dec) (N: Raculue; 9 Kal Dec) Ritherlege (G: Ritherlege; 9 Kal Apr) Ruckinge, Kent (G: Rokinge; 3 Id Aug) St Osyth, Essex (G: Cice; 9 Kal Apr) Saltwood, Kent (G: Salwode; 2 Id Nov) (N: Salwode; 2 Id Nov) Sandhurst, Kent (G: Sandherst; 3 Id Aug) Sandwich, Kent (A: Sandwych; 9 Kal Apr) Sandwich, port of, Kent (G: Sandwico; 2 Id Nov) Shettinge, (lost, nr Canterbury), meadow, Kent (G: Sittinge; 6 Kal Feb) (A: Schettinge; 2 Non Feb) Sceldesforda (lost, nr Wingham), Kent (G: Stedeford; 9 Kal Apr) (A: Scaldenord) Shripney, Sussex (G: Scripenham; 4 Id Oct) (A: Schepenheye) Slindon, Sussex (G: Slindonn; 4 Id Oct) Snade, pasture, Kent (G: Suade; 3 Id Aug) (A: Snade) Southchurch, Essex (G: Suthcherche; Kal Jul) Southchurch, Essex (G: Suthcherche; 8 Kal Sep) (A: 8 Id Sep) (B: Sufaircean; 8 Id Sept) (N: Stithchereche; 8 Id Sep) Southernden, Little (in Headcorn), Kent (G: Suthelminden; 3 Id Aug) Stisted, Essex (G: Stistede; 3 Id Mar) (A; 10 Kal Apr) (N: Stistede; 10 Kal Apr) Stone (lost, in Oxney?), Kent (G: Ceyse; 6 Kal Feb) (A: Deifertesriam; 2 Non Feb)

151

Tangmere, Sussex (G: Tangemere; 4 Id Oct) Tarring, Sussex (G: Cherringes; 5 Kal Nov) Tenham, Kent (G: Tenham; 3 Id May) Thanington, Kent, meadow (G: Thanintone; 6 Kal Feb) (A: 2 Non Feb) Thornden (nr Boughton Malherbe), pasture, Kent (G: Teninden; 3 Id Aug) (A: Cheninden) Twickenham, Middlesex (G: erasure; 9 Kal Apr) (A: Tycham) Twickenham, Middlesex (G: Tuiccenham; 3 Id Aug) Twickenham, Middlesex (G: Tinckenham; 9 Kal Dec) (N: Tytham; 9 Kal Dec) Waldingtun (lost, nr Canterbury) (G: Estrewaldintonn; 9 Kal Apr) (A: Waldintone) Walworth, Surrey (G: Waleworthe; Non Jan) Weald, The, wood in, Kent (G: Andred; 3 Id Aug) Wembley, Middlesex (G: Wambele; 9 Kal Apr) Wilmington (lost in Lympne), Kent (G: Wyelmestone; 9 Kal Apr) Wingham, Kent (G: Wingeham; 7 Kal Jul) (A: 7 Kal Jun) Wirksworth, Derbyshire (G: Wircesburde; 6 Kal Feb) (A: Wynchewsarde; 2 Non Feb) Wittersham, Kent (G: Plengvinigham; 6 Kal Feb) (A: 2 Non Feb) Wittersham, Kent (G: Wytricchesham; 2 Id Nov) Woodchurch, Kent (G: Blakeburneham; 6 Kal Feb) (A: Bertbonam; 2 Non Feb) Wootton, Kent (G: Wodetone; 4 Id Oct) Yeading, Middlesex (G: Geddinges; 3 Id Aug)

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The Culture of Christendom Index Nominum LAY BROTHERS

Alfred (N) (Non Jan) Alfred (A) (14 Kal Jun) Alfred (N) (17 Kal Oct) Alfred (N) (Id Dec) Alfric (N) (5 Kal Oct) Algar the Priest (N) (6 Id Mar) Almzr (N) (8 Kal May) Alwine (A) (4 Id May) vElfnoth (G) (5 Jan) (B) (no date) yElfsige (A) (5 Kal Aug) jElfwine (A) (15 Kal Aug) ^Ifwine (N, B, G) (5 Kal Dec) ^thelnoth (N) (5 Kal Nov) jEthelred (N) (6 Kal Feb) ^thelric Bigge (G, A) (Kal Jul) jEthelric of Bocking (A) (16 Kal Sep) Byrhtnoth, Ealdorman, and his wife ^Elfflasd (G, A) (3 Id Aug) Beorhtmasr of Gracechurch (N) (9 Kal May) Beorhtwald (N) (4 Non Mar) Cole (N) (2 Kal Mar) Ealdhun, reeve of Canterbury (G) (3 Id May) (A) (4 Id May) Edgar (N) (7 Id Apr) Edwin (N) (Kal Sep) Godric (A) (2 Non Aug) Godsune (N) (3 Non Sep) Godwine (N) (6 Id Mar)

Godwine (G) (9 Kal Apr) (N) (5 Kal Apr) Godwine (N) (3 Id Oct) Goldwine (N) (2 Id Apr) Haldene princeps (G, N) (2 Id Nov) Heregod (A) (2 Non Jun) Ingelram (N) (2 Non Mar) Leofchild (G, A) (Kal June) Leofrsed (N) (10 Kal May) Leofstan (N, B) (8 Id Sep) (G) (8 Kal Sep) Leofwig (A) (8 Kal Aug) Orgar (N) (Non Feb) Osbern (N) (6 Id Dec) Osbern Bigge (B) (8 Kal Dec) Osmund (N) (5 Kal Dec) Seuaaus (A) (16 Kal Sep) Sigar (A) (3 Non Jun) Sigar (A) (5 Kal Jul) Sigewulf (N) (16 Kal Feb) Siward (A) ( 13 Kal Aug) Thorsed (G) (15 Kal Aug) Wulfgeat (A) (8 Id Jul) Wulfmsr (A) (16 Kal Sep) Wulfnoth, conversus (N) (3 Id Mar) Wulfred (N) (2 Id Oct) Wulfweard (A) (2 Kal Jun) Wulfweard (N) (4 Non Oct) Wulfwig (N) (5 Kal Oct) Wulfwine (N) (17 Kal Nov)

LAY SISTERS JEAifixd and her husband Ealdorman Byrhtnoth (G, A) (3 Id Aug) ^Ifgifu (N) (3 Non Jan) vElfgifu (N) (13 Kal Oct) ,€lfhild (A) (12 Kal June) .Elfwynn (A) (6 Kal Jun) ^Ithelgyth (N) (3 Non Apr) ^theldryth (N) (5 Non Oct) ^Etheldryth (N) (16 Kal Nov) vEtheldryth, sister of Osbern Bigge (N) (5 Kal Mar) Beorhtgifu (N) (5 Id Dec) Eadgifu (N) (8 Id Mar) Eadhild (N) (3 Id Apr) Eadhild (N) (7 Id Oct) Eadwynn (A) (12 Kal Jun) Ealdgifu (N) (4 Id Mar) Ealdgytha (A) (Kal Aug) Ealdhild (A) (6 Id Aug) Edith (A) (4 Id Jun) Code (A) (8 Kal Aug)

Godgifu (A) (5 Id Aug) Godgyth(N) (17 Kal Jan) Godgyth (N) (12 Kal Feb) Godlena (A) (4 Non Jun) Godlena (A) (16 Kal Aug) Godleofu (A) (14 Kal Jun) Godleofu (A) (3 Kal Jul) Gunhilda (N) (2 Non Mar) Leofgifu (A) (7 Id Jun) Leofgifu (A) (8 Id Jul) Leofgifu (A) (8 Kal Aug) Leofgifu (N) (Id Nov) Leofgifu (N) (Non Dec) Leofgifu of Dover (N) (12 Kal Apr) Leofwaru (N) (6 Kal Dec) Leofwynn (G, A) (10 Kal Aug) Matilda, wife of Siward (N) (8 Kal Oct) Oda (N) (4 Non Sep) Selethryth (N) (4 Kal Oct) Werburg (A) (6 Non Jul) Werburg (A) (4 Kal Sep)

Christcburch's Sisters and Brothers: Canterbury Obituary Lists Wergifu (N) (4 Non Sep) Wulfgifu(N)(ll Kaljan) Wulfgifu(N)(ll KalFeb) Wulfgifu (N) (8 Id Oct) Wulfgifu (N) (4 Kal Dec)

153

Wulfgyth (N, B) (4 Kal Dec) Wulfgyth, wife of God wine (N) (10 Kal Apr) (G) (3 Id Mar) Wulfwynn (N) (3 Non Apr)

KINGS AND THEIR KIN Alfred, king of Wessex (G, N) (5 Kal Nov) ^thelred II (G, A) (9 Kal Apr) ^thelstan (G, N) (5 Kal Nov) ^thelstan, ^theling (G, A) (7 Kal Jul) ^thelwulf (N) (2 Non Feb) (G) (6 Kal Feb) Casdwalla, king of Wessex and Cynethryth his wife (G, N) (4 Id Oct) Cenwulf I, king of Mercia (G, N) (9 Kal April) Cnut (G, N, B) (2 Id Nov) Eadbald, king of Kent (N) (14 Kal Feb) Eadgifu, mother of King Eadrasd (G, B, A) (8 Kal Sep)

Eadrzd (G, N) (9 Kal Dec) Egbert, king of Wessex (N) (2 Non Feb) (G) (6 Kal Feb) Edgar (A) (8 Id Jul) Edmund (G) (7 Kal Jul) (A) (7 Kal Jun) Edward the Confessor (G) (no date) Emma (G, N) (8 Id Mar) Offa, king of Mercia (G, A) (3 Id Aug) Wihtred, king of Kent (G) (9 Kal Apr) (N) (9 Kal May)

CHURCHMEN ^Ifric, Archbishop (B) (translated 16 Kal Dec) vEthelgar, Archbishop (N) (2 Id Feb) jEthelheard, Archbishop (G) (3 Id May) (A) (4 Id May) yfcthelhelm, Archbishop (N) (6 Id Jan) ^Ethelnoth, Archbishop (B, N) (5 Kal Nov) jEthelred, Archbishop (A) (2 Kal July) jEthelric, Bishop of Selsey (A, B) (18 Kal Sep) Beorhtwald, Archbishop (N) (6 Id Jan) Bregowine (B) (9 Kal Sep) Cynewaru, Abbess (G) (6 Kal Feb) Ceolnoth, Archbishop (A) (2 Non Feb) (G) (6 Kal Feb)

Cuthbert, Archbishop (N, B) (8 Kal Nov) (G) (4 Id Oct) Feologild, Archbishop (B) (3 Kal Sep) (A) (4 Kal Sep) Godwine, Bishop (N) (2 Id Apr) Justus, Archbishop (B) (4 Id Oct) Lyfing, Archbishop (G, A) (2 Id Jun) Nothhelm, Archbishop (N, B) (17 Kal Nov) Sigeric, Archbishop (N) (5 Kal Nov) (B) (2 Kal Oct) Werheard the Priest (G, A) (9 Kal Apr) Wulfred, Archbishop (N, G) (9 Kal Apr) Wulfric II, Abbot of St. Augustine's (N) (14 Kal May)

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7

LanfranCy Anselm and the School of Bee: In Search of the Students of Bee Sally N. Vaughn

The school of Bee — its students and its curriculum, its longevity, and even the possibility of its existence — has puzzled many historians of its great men for a long time. Beginning with A.A. Poree,1 modern scholars have focused on Bee primarily as a monastery to which men retreated from the world. Even AJ. MacDonald, who viewed Lanfranc as an able and accomplished administrator while archbishop of Canterbury,2 paid scant attention to his career at Bee other than in terms of his literary activity. The school of Bee has largely remained an enigma, assumed to be an ordinary monastic school based on Bee's oblates and monks, and seen much as other abbeys of Europe that trained monks for the cloistered life of prayer, meditation, and song in praise of God. A list of the students of Bee suggests that serious anomalies cloud this idyllic portrait. Bee seems to have possessed legions of students who left the abbey for service elsewhere.3 Moreover, their lives were not necessarily spent in cloisters. If indeed they were, it was in positions that at least required them to interact with the world. Those not cloistered dealt directly with worldly affairs as a vital part of their careers; those not even in holy orders obviously lived in the arena of the secular. The school of Bee thus requires reevaluation, whereby some old assumptions must be rejected and new questions raised about Bee's school and its students and curriculum. Margaret Gibson has argued that the school of Bee lasted for only a few years after its foundation by Lanfranc, who intended to enhance the abbey's building campaign. The school supposedly closed on Lanfranc's departure in 1060.4 But the astonishing number of Bee students and the record of Anselm's tenure as prior and abbot indicates that Lanfranc in fact founded the school earlier than generally supposed, and that Anselm continued the school during the thirty years of his priorate and abbacy.5 Where Lanfranc's school seems to have attracted primarily external 1. A. A. Poree, L'Histoire de I'ahhaye du Bee, 2 vols. (Evreux, 1901). 2. A. J. MacDonald, Lanfranc: His Life and Writings (Oxford, 1944). 3. See Appenix 1, 'The Students of Bee, 1042-1170'. 4. Margaret Gibson, Lanfranc of Bee (Oxford, 1978), pp. 34-35. 5. Sally N. Vaughn, Anselm of Bee and Robert of Meulan: The Innocence of the Dove and the Wisdom of the Serpent (Berkeley and Los Angeles, 1987), pp. 32-35.

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students, many of whom often departed Bee to take monastic vows elsewhere,6 Anselm's students consisted either of young oblates or adult converts who ultimately became Bee monks.7 Even after Anselm's departure from Bee for Canterbury, monks continued to pour forth from the abbey to take up abbatial and episcopal posts throughout Europe.8 Who were these students? What was taught at the School of Bee? For Bee students who later followed ecclesiastical careers, some direct evidence survives. Those who remained laymen have never been satisfactorily identified. Margaret Gibson, for example, did not attempt to discover who attended Bee, but argued that Lanfranc was primarily a monk and focused his teaching almost exclusively on those monastic virtues that enhanced the joys of the cloistered life.9 Sir Richard Southern has argued similarly for Anselm's pedagogical activities at Bee, stressing his devotion to the monastic vocation, holy conversation, meditation and prayer, and the peace and contemplation of the fellowship of Bee.10 Brian Patrick McGuire followed Southern's lead.11 Yet none of these scholars ventured to establish in any concrete way what was taught in the abbey school beyond its religious curriculum. They followed the earlier pattern set by A.A. Poree, their scholarly judgement about the school of Bee continuing to rest largely on the literary products of Lanfranc and Anselm, his most famous student — philosophical tracts examining theological problems; Anselm's prayers and meditations; and his letters.12 Other evidence does, however, exist. A search of the records for Bee students who went on to ecclesiastical careers reveals a total of sixty-one abbots, eleven bishops, six archbishops, two papal legates, one cardinal and one pope emerging from Bee to fill high ecclesiastical office elsewhere between 1042 and 1170. A cursory search for priors reveals eight individuals, but more could undoubtedly be found. 13 These eighty-nine Bee students included such luminaries as Archbishop William Bonne Ame of Rouen, Archbishops Lanfranc and Anselm of Canterbury, the cardinal-legate Bishop John of Tusculum, the great jurist Ivo of Chartres, and Pope Alexander II. The Bee school was clearly remarkable. It appears to have lasted through Anselm's tenure and those of his immediate successor William of Beaumont (1093-1124) and Anselm's student and close friend Boso (1124-36), as well as that of Boso's own successor Theobald (1136—38), who himself obtained the archbishopric of Canterbury (1138-61), during which time he served as a mentor to Thomas Becket. 6. Gibson, Lanfranc, pp. 35-38. 7. Vaughn, Anselm of Bee, pp. 68-70. 8. See Appendix 1. 9. Gibson, Lanfranc, pp. 39-61. 10. Sir Richard Southern, Saint Anselm: A Portrait in a Landscape (Oxford, 1990), pp. 138-81, and passim. 11. Brian Patrick McGuire, Friendship and Community: The Monastic Experience, 350-1250 (Kalamazoo, 1988), pp. 221-30. 12. The Letters of Saint Anselm, ed. Walter Frohlich (Kalamazoo, 1990); hereafter cited as LSA with the epistle number. 13. See Appendix 1.

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Evidence exists that abbots who left the abbey for high office elsewhere, such as Anselm and Theobald, retained control over the abbey after departing. Anselm vowed to the Bee monks, after his election to Canterbury in response to their pleas that he would not abandon them: '. . . I will never give up the power of binding and loosing you, and of advising you, which I had over you, so long as the abbot who shall succeed me and you who will be under him shall yield it to me'.14 That such, in fact, became a Bee tradition is suggested by De libertate Beccensis monasterii which reports the monks put the election of Anselm's successor 'under Anselm's judgement and authority' and were 'prepared to give total obedience to his will'.15 Avrom Saltman has argued that Theobald consciously observed and probably even ordered to be recorded the traditions of Bee;16 thus the existence of the Bee school can be traced through Theobald's lifetime and perhaps a little beyond it. Many individual students filled high ecclesiastical administrative offices. Were they deliberately trained for their respective destinies, or did they just happen to emerge from Bee en masse to dominate the ecclesiastical administration of Normandy and England, in particular? The materials for the school of Bee used by scholars up to now do not indicate that the Bee students were trained as administrators. But the sheer number of fledgeling Bee administrators who went elsewhere to rule churches seems to suggest that one of the goals of the Bee school was to produce governors of souls to rule abbeys and monasteries of regular clergy and, one might add, to oversee lay souls as secular clergy. Hence, one part of the Bee curriculum may have focused on the effective governance of souls and of the institutions dedicated to their care and direction. For example, Saltman argues that Theobald administered the widely dispersed lands and judicial complexities of both Bee and Canterbury with 'considerable skill'.17 Orderic Vitalis describes the Bee students as 'prudent pilots and spiritual charioteers',18 which certainly implies that one goal of the Bee school was specifically to train administrators. Various Bee tracts, such as Vita Herluini, Vita Lanfranci, Vitae Willelmi et Bosoni, and De libertate Beccensis monasterii, stress virtuous administration by reporting numerous instances wherein Bee's founder Herluin, his prior Lanfranc, and Bee's second abbot, Anselm, excelled in caring for the business of the abbey. Herluin, for example, was 'prudent in those things that related to the world outside, in building and procuring all their necessities . . . ,'19 The Vita Lanfranci claims that 'Lanfranc was. . . taken 14. ISA, no. 156. 15. De libertate Beccensis monasterii, in Annales ordinis Sancti Benedicti, 5, ed. J. Mabillon (Paris, 1745), p. 602. 16. Avrom Saltman, Theobald, Archbishop of Canterbury (New York, 1969), pp. 4-7. 17. Ibid., pp. 6-7. 18. Orderic Vitalis, The Ecclesiastical History of Orderic Vitalis, 6 vols. ed. and trans. Marjorie Chibnall (Oxford, 1969-80), 2, p. 296. 19. Vita Herluini, J. Armitage Robinson, Gilbert Crispin, Abbot of Westminster: A Study of the Abbey under Norman Rule (Cambridge, 1911), pp. 87-110, with quote from p. 96. For a more recent edition see The Works of Gilbert Crispin, Abbot of Westminster, ed. A. S. Abulafia and G. R. Evans, in Auctores Britannici Medii Aevi, 8 (1986).

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on as supreme counsellor by William, duke of Normandy, for administering the business of the whole province'.20 As Eadmer states, as prior and abbot Anselm took personal charge of all 'important business of the church'.21 The leaders and teachers of Bee clearly stressed the importance of administration. If this was indeed the case, what would future administrators have learned at Bee? It has been suggested that Lanfranc, in his highly important Liber de corpore et sanguine Domini, was largely 'arguing a case' against Berengar of Tours based on the Bible, the writings of the Fathers, and the Carolingian debates on transubstantiation. In his conclusion Lanfranc was 'heaping text upon text to show the overwhelming doctrinal unanimity of the Fathers'.22 The whole method of argumentation, as Gibson outlines it, was that of a lawyer — not a philosopher or dialectician.23 While Lanfranc dealt with a theological topic, he chose to do so by stressing the authority — indeed legality — of traditional knowledge, almost using the tactics and arguments of a jurist.24 Was this a method he taught at Bee? His student Anselm cannot at first glance be judged as learned in matters of jurisprudence, even if as a pioneer in the use of logic and dialectic, the philosopher-saint broke through the barrier of authority to blaze the trail of logical theology. While Anselm's students tried to follow in his footsteps (so much so that some of their works were later subsumed into Anselm's collection) none, not even Eadmer or Gilbert Crispin, achieved the level of the recognition of their master.25 Reliance on the philosophical and theological texts, Anselm's monastic letters, prayers and meditations to discern the curriculum of Bee assumes that such subjects would naturally comprise Bee's agenda. But in addition to the existence of large numbers of Bee monk-administrators and bishop-administrators, other evidence suggests a different conclusion, and substantiating the contention that Lanfranc's legal talents (and perhaps training) are manifested in his Liber de corpore et sanguine Domini. Orderic Vitalis clearly states that Lanfranc was a master of civil law and the liberal arts and that these subjects were taught along with philosophy and biblical studies at the School of Bee: 'Sprung from noble parents who were citizens of Pavia in Italy, [Lanfranc] had studied in the schools of the liberal arts from his childhood, and had become deeply learned in civil law . . . ,'26 The implication here is that Orderic regarded liberal arts and civil law as 20. Vita Lanfranci, PL, 150, cols, 29-58, with quotation at col. 34. 21. Eadmer, Vita Sancti Anselmi, The Life of St. Anselm, ed. R. W. Southern (London, 1972), p. 45. 22. Gibson, Lanfranc, pp. 83-84. 23. Cf., ibid, p. 81: '. . . Lanfranc undertook its defence as a conciliar edict, neither he nor his successors attempted its justification as theology". See also, p. 85: 'his fundamental skill, as always, was in presenting material to make a case'. 24. Ibid., pp. 81-98. 25. Southern, Saint Anselm, pp. 382-437. 26. Orderic, Ecclesiastical History, 2, p. 248.

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somehow going hand-in-hand. But what was civil law in the first quarter of the eleventh century? Liberal arts may have been the trivium, but no hard curriculum in law as yet existed. Gibson's observations on Lanfranc's Liber de corpore et sanguine Domini suggest that citing ancient models of authority — construed as custom or tradition — that must be followed to the letter27 comprised a legal approach in the early 1100s.28 The Bee monks ultimately produced at least seven tracts detailing Bee's 'traditions' that encompassed the events of Bee's foundation and how subsequent abbots followed them.29 In his little biography of Lanfranc, Orderic continues to refer to Lanfranc's extraordinary prowess at law — 'even as a young orator' he bested his adversaries, winning such respect for his 'wisdom in interpreting judgements' that lawyers, judges, and civic officials 'gladly accepted his opinion'. In 'exile', Orderic states, Lanfranc underwent a conversion, 'submitted himself to be ruled by the yoke of religious profession', and chose tiny, obscure, poverty-stricken Bee, which he then enriched with his 'wisdom and painstaking administration, raising it to a state of perfect order . . . humbly proffering sound counsel [utili consilio] to the holy abbot Herluin'.30 This statement is corroborated by the Vita Lanfranci, which suggests that Bee's great growth and success was almost entirely due to Lanfranc's direction. It reports that, in a secret pledge to Lanfranc in return for his promise not to leave Bee for a hermit's life, Herluin 'appointed Lanfranc prior without delay, and whatever was subject to the jurisdiction of the abbey, inside or outside the cloister, he committed to his care'.31 By citing as documentary proof a letter of William of Cormeilles, the Vita Lanfranci corroborates this statement. Marjorie Chibnall has argued that this passage from Orderic's history and the continuation of the story in his work were taken from a lost portion of an historical treatise of William of Poitiers, written perhaps in c. 1074. She points out that the text parallels significantly chapter 5 of the much later Vita Lanfranci and, hence, suggests that both were taken from the earlier common source. Chibnall states, 'The story of the brilliant young lawyer at Pavia may well be a legend, but it seems to be at least a legend that was 27. Cf., Saltman's discussion, Theobald, pp. 4-6, of the preservation of Bee's customs of independence from law and ecclesiastical control and Theobald's efforts to put them in writing. 28. I am grateful to Bruce Bensington and John Howe for these observations, based on their papers presented at the joint meeting of the Texas Medieval Association and the Medieval Association of the Midwest in February, 1992. Professor Bensington discussed 'The Saint's Two Bodies', and suggested that in the twelfth century a new distinction appeared between saintly qualities to be imitated and those to be venerated. His article will appear in Viator. Professor Howe argued persuasively that prior to Gratian, the Benedictine Rule was treated as a flexible guide to be interpreted, not as iron-clad law. These papers suggested to me that Lanfranc and Anselm fell on the cusp of these two developments at Bee — precisely between these two states of law. I will return to this thought later. 29. These begin with the Vita Herluini, followed by Alteri Vita Herlumi, the Vita Anselmi, Vita Lanfranci, Vitae Willelmi et Bosoni, and De libertate Beccensis monasterii. 30. Orderic, Ecclesiastical History, 2, pp. 248-50 (my italics), '. . . prudentia ipsius vigilanissimaque cura locuplitauit, et in statum pulcherrimi ordinis prouesit, . . .' 31. Vita Lanfranci, col. 34.

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current in Lanfranc's lifetime'.32 Most legends have some basis in fact, hence the importance of the study of law at Bee may well have been underestimated. As the Vita Lanfranci directly lifts passages from the earlier Vita Herluini, its author's use of sources in this way would also argue for Chibnall's view.33 He states in his prologue that he had borrowed from the Vita Herlmni 'and added whatever I could find or what I heard from venerable and truthful men'.34 With this in mind, the analysis of Orderic and the Vita Lanfranci may be approached with new confidence that both authors drew on the most accurate contemporary sources available to them. Orderic omits from his narrative the story of Lanfranc's wanderings in Normandy (where he was presumably 'in exile' from his native land), his conversion, and Herluin's immediate presentation to Lanfranc of Saint Benedict's Rule by which the abbey was governed (a reference also found in the Vita Lanfranci). He goes into more detail about Lanfranc's teaching: And so, forced by his vow of obedience to leave the cloister, [Lanfranc] came forth as a master in whose teaching the fundamental texts of philosophy and the Bible were displayed. In both subjects he could unravel the most knotty problems with supreme skill. It was from this master that the Normans first learned the liberal arts, so that scholars well versed in both sacred and secular learning emerged from the school of Bee. For at an earlier period under the six dukes of Normandy scarcely any Norman spent his time in liberal studies, and no man of learning was to be found there until all-Provident God sent Lanfranc to the borders of Normandy. The fame of his learning spread all over Europe, until many flocked from France, Gascony, Brittany and Flanders to sit at his feet. By intellect and learning Lanfranc would have won the applause of Herodian in grammar, Aristotle in dialectic, Cicero in rhetoric, Augustine, Jerome and the other commentators on the Old and New Testaments in scriptural studies. The Athenians themselves, when they were at their most flourishing, and excelled in teaching, would have given place to Lanfranc in every branch of eloquence or learning, and after hearing his apt proofs would have been eager to learn from him.35 32. See Chibnall, in Orderic, Ecclesiastical History, 2, pp. 248-49, n. 3 and cf., xix-xxi. See also, R. W. Southern, 'Lanfranc and Berengar of Tours,' Studies in Medieval History Presented to F. M. Powicke, ed. R. W. Hunt, et. al. (Oxford, 1948), pp. 27-32 for an opposing view. 33. See Vita Lanfranci, col. 39-40, for the parallel passage to Orderic's Ecclesiastical History cited above. Compare Vita Herluini, p. 96, especially to Vita Lanfranci, col. 32: The abbot strove to give due veneration to Lanfranc, and the other strove to show every kind of submission towards Herluin. Each was a model for the flock, one of the active life, the other of the contemplative. Herluin was skilled in resolving controversies to do with secular cases, prudent in those things that related to the world outside; in building and procuring all their necessities, he could not have been cleverer or more effective without sacrificing his religious scruples'. In Vita Lanfranci: Therefore Abbot Herluin strove to pay Lanfranc due veneration, while Lanfranc strove to pay every kind of submission towards Herluin; each represented a model of living to the flock, one of the active life, the other of the contemplative . . . . Besides being the bulwark of his monks against crooked tax gatherers, he was well experienced in conducting the business of secular cases and in arranging matters outside the cloister'. 34. Vita Lanfranci, col. 29. 35. Orderic, Ecclesiastical History, 2, p. 250; my italics.

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Orderic seems to want to make very clear a few important points. First, Lanfranc had to follow the Rule to the letter, but on Herluin's orders, he had to leave the cloister to deal with the world. Yet, as has been seen, Lanfranc, not Herluin, was now in charge. Lanfranc thus felt it necessary to represent himself as following the law governing his abbey to the absolute letter, opening the school on Herluin's orders. Secondly, Orderic suggests Herodian, Aristotle and Cicero (by which is implied grammar, dialectic, rhetoric and even law) were taught in the school of Bee as well as Augustine, Jerome and the Bible.36 Orderic's clear and forceful statement, that Lanfranc brought the liberal arts as well as legal studies to Normandy, surely deserves more attention than it has received. Lanfranc's school of Bee seems to have catered to laymen rather than clerics: while Orderic calls Bee the 'school of Christ', he adds that there 'many clerks and laymen have lived and still live under the monastic dress'.37 The phrasing, 'Ibi usque hodie multi clencorum et laicorum sub monachili scemate vivunt', is curious and ambiguous. The 'many' who flocked to Bee from 'France, Gascony, Brittany and Flanders' may perhaps be identified as the later monks, abbots, bishops and archbishops: ex-pupils throughout northern Europe. Orderic also insists that 'clerks and laymen came to sit at the feet of the renowned philosopher [Anselm]'.38 Why laymen should live at Bee even in Orderic's day 'under monastic dress' presents an odd puzzle, but it accords with the account of Gilbert Crispin as he described the foundation of the school of Bee: Clerics came running, the sons of military commanders [duces], the most renowned masters of Latin learning; powerful laymen and many men of high nobility through their love for [Lanfranc] bestowed a great deal of land on that same church. Instantly Bee was enriched by adornments, by possessions, by high-born and honourable persons.^

Who were these sons of military commanders, these high-born and honorable persons who flocked to and adorned Bee? Were they necessarily professed monks? It should be pointed out that there were fewer professions in Lanfranc's time than in Anselm's.40 Were they then the 'laymen . . . living under monastic dress' that Orderic distinguishes? One fact is clear: they do not appear to have been the men who later took orders and became administrators, except in a few cases such as that of Gilbert Crispin. Orderic himself lists only two — William, son of Giroi, and Hugh, count of Meulan. But he also says that 36. Sir Richard Southern has argued that Anselm had access to some works of Aristotle, for which see his Saint Anselm, pp. 61-65. 37. Orderic, Ecclesiastical History, 2, p. 12; my italics. 38. Ibid., 2, p. 294. 39. Vita Herluini, p. 97; my italics. 40. Between Bee's foundation in 1034 and 1060, the year in which Anselm became a monk, some sixty-seven monks were professed. During the next thirty-two years of Anselm's time at Bee, no less than 229 monks assumed the habit. See Vaughn, Anselm of Bee, pp. 69-70.

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William became a monk when old and blind, while Anselm's letters indicate that Hugh of Meulan retired only in old age, dying shortly thereafter.41 It may be significant that this discussion of the first monks of Bee immediately recalled to Orderic's mind the monastic foundations of Saint-Pierre and Saint-Leger of Preaux established by Humphrey de Vieilles and his son Roger of Beaumont, who were neighbors of Bee and early donors to that abbey. William fitz Osbern's foundations at Lyre and Cormeilles also come to mind, which very early in Bee's history became its first priories when Bee monks became abbots there.42 The Preaux abbeys also later acquired Bee monks as abbots. These particular laymen were major donors to Bee throughout their lifetimes, although not all took orders there. Interestingly, their donations began when Lanfranc founded Bee's school. The circumstances at Bee seem very Carolingian, similar, for example, to Charles the Bald's lay abbacy of Corbei. It should be noted also that at nearby Saint-Evroul inhabitants could enter the abbey and then leave to take up a normal secular life, as in the case of Judith and Emma, sisters of the deposed abbot Robert of Grandmesnil. Orderic writes that they took refuge at Saint-Evroul's dependency of Ouche, and were 'thought to have taken the veil'. But when Robert found rich husbands for them in Italy, they promptly left to marry and live in the world without stigma. Orderic does not seem too bothered by their actions, glossing over their abandonment of their vows by saying the vows were only 'thought' to have been taken.43 Having stated that William son of Giroi had become a monk of Bee and had granted to Bee another priory (his foundation of Saint-Peter at Ouche), William son of Giroi, already a Bee monk, joined his brother Robert, of Grandmesnil and his two nephews Hugh and Robert, sons of Robert of Grandmesnil, to found the abbey of Saint-Evroul.44 Henceforth William son of Giroi mysteriously changes roles and is no longer discussed as a Bee monk, being rather transformed into the founder of Saint-Evroul. The story of Saint-Evroul's foundation contains many other curiosities that bear on the history of the Bee tradition. Besides being founded by William son of Giroi (who might be viewed as having a conflict of interest in the 41. LSA, no. 118; cf., Vaughn, Anselm of Bee, pp. 91-92 for Hugh's retirement only shortly before he died. 42. Vaughn, Anselm of Bee, pp. 35-36, 66-67, 360 n. 238, 94-95, 29, 71; cf. Poree, Bee, I, pp. 384—444; and p. 273, n. 2. The twin abbeys, one for men and one for women, founded at Preaux by Roger of Beaumont also became Bee dependencies at a later date, for which see David Crouch, The Beaumont Twins (Cambridge, 1986), p. 206. Other Norman abbeys under Bee monks as abbots, which Orderic does not mention here, included Caen, Lessay, Sainte-Wandrille, Fecamp, Poissy, Conflans, Saint-Martin de la Garenne, Saint-Pierre de Pointoise, Saint-Hilaire de Tilleres, and Saint-Pierre de Longueville, along with Saint-Pierre de Canchy in Amiens and numerous English abbeys. Cf. Vaughn, Anselm of Bee, pp. 67 and 71. 43. Orderic, Ecclesiastical History, 2, pp. 102-4. Another striking example of a woman who lived at an abbey and later was judged free to leave and marry is the case of Edith-Matilda, daughter of King Malcolm of Scotland and St. Margaret, who later married Henry I with Anselm's blessing. 44. Orderic, Ecclesiastical History, 2, pp. 15-17.

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matter), it was also moved to land in the possession of Bee Abbey. This is a most curious mirror image of the foundation of Bee itself. When William heard that his nephews had decided to found a monastery, he intervened and is said to have stated: The place where you have begun to build is quite unsuitable for a monastery, because there is no water or wood within a reasonable distance. Monks cannot live without these necessities. If you will listen to my advice, I will tell you of a better place. In the forest of Ouche there is a place [where Saint-Evroul formerly governed monks]. There you will find abundance of water, and I have a wood nearby from which I will supply everything you need for the church.45

This 'better place' happened to belong to Bee at the time. This description virtually mirrors — even paraphrases — Gilbert Crispin's account of Abbot Herluin's foundation of the abbey of Bee.46 According to the Vita Herluini, this converted knight originally founded Bee in an unhealthy spot that lacked water and woods — Herluin's own hereditary domains in Bonneville. In Herluin's case, a vision from heaven led him to move his abbey to Bee, 'by a flowing stream in the deep woods of Brionne', which coincidentally Roger of Beaumont and Gilbert of Brionne granted to him. This place provided 'every convenience for people's use; because of its dense trees and refreshing stream . . . .'47 Like Bee, Saint-Evroul was founded by converted knights, at first on their hereditary lands. Like Bee, its first site was unhealthy and a better one was chosen. Like Bee, it moved to an ideal spot for the care of human bodies as well as souls. As Gilbert Crispin describes Bee after the move: So it was that Herluin, who did not have sufficient land for the necessary housing at the foundation of the abbey, within a few years extended his lordship to territories stretching for miles around. What shall I tell about the benefits which were accumulated for the use of God's servants: the ponds, the copses, the arable fields, the vineyards? There is no abbey better equipped for all human needs.48

Orderic continues to tell a parallel tale: like Bee, Saint-Evroul sought, at its request, Duke William's grant to the abbey and to Hugh and Robert, sons of Robert of Grandmesnil, and William and Robert, sons of Giroi, exemption from all customs and dues that anyone might try to collect from the monks or their men. They explicitly sought the duke's permission to choose their own abbot, without ducal licence or control.49 Bee, too, had insisted on its 45. Ibid. 46. Vita Herluini, pp. 91, 94. While the story of Bee's foundation is much longer, its outlines correspond in most particulars to the foundation of Saint-Evroul. 47. Ibid., p. 94. 48. Ibid., p. 98. 49. Orderic, Ecclesiastical History, 2, p. 16.

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immunity from all homage and obedience, clerical or lay, from the date of its foundation.50 The immunities Bee sought from lay and ecclesiastical control, they argued in Vitae Willelmi et Bosoni and in De lihertate Beccensis monasterii^ were legal rights based on the 'customs and traditions' established by Herluin's acts when he founded Bee. The legal argument rested on treating custom as law, as a model for future conduct to be followed to the letter.51 Given William son of Giroi's defection, it may be significant that later in Bee's history, under Anselm's tenure, Bee quietly established a clear principle that Bee vows of obedience should be permanent — that once made, neither the monks nor the abbot would ever cease to be monks of Bee.52 The foundation of Saint-Evroul and the first Bee dependencies occurred between Bee's foundation in 1034-37 and Lanfranc's departure from Bee to Caen in 1060. As Chibnall has dated them, Saint-Peter of Preaux was founded in c. 1034-35, Saint-Leger of Preaux before 1050 (but possibly in 1054), Lyre in 1046 and Cormeille 1060.53 Saint-Evroul, Orderic states, received Duke William's confirmation in 1050.54 Saint-Pierre of Preaux later came under the abbacy of a Bee monk, while Lyre and Cormeilles quickly became Bee dependencies under Bee monks as abbots.55 But Saint-Evroul took great care to secure its total independence even from Bee in a legal charter secured from Duke William — apparently having learned its Bee lessons well. Orderic stresses especially and repeatedly the binding legality of Saint-Evroul's independence from Bee's domination — as if it might be contested. This was established in 1050. Lanfranc had arrived at Bee in about 1047, or perhaps somewhat earlier. Orderic implies that he was already at Bee when Saint-Evroul was founded which means for several years before 1050. Lanfranc may also have arrived at Bee somewhat earlier than it is customarily believed. Regardless, it is significant that suddenly in 1050 Duke William's grants to these particular abbeys proliferated markedly. He issued foundation confirmations for and

50. Cf., De libertatis Beccensis monasterii, pp. 601-5 and Vitae Willelmi et Bosoni, PL, 150, cols. 713-32 for Bee's insistence on the liberties granted to it by Duke William at its foundation. For an analysis of these documents and the liberties of Bee, see Vaughn, Anselm of Bee, pp. 106—49 and idem, The Abbey of Bee and the Anglo-Norman State (Woodbridge, Suffolk, 1981), where they are translated. 51. Vitae Willelmi et Bosoni are concerned largely with the election and consecration of these two Bee abbots, and the efforts of the Bee monks to preserve the Bee tradition that Bee was free from all ducal and episcopal jurisdiction. De libertate Beccensis monasterii repeated much that is found in Vitae Willelmi et Bosoni; while adding details to the account it includes as an insertion a story about Anselm showing that he also fought to avoid aristocratic domination during Duke Robert Curthose's weak reign. The Bee monks thus insisted on their 'customary' freedom from all outside control — ducal, aristocratic or ecclesiastic. 52. Cf. Vaughn, Anselm of Bee, p. 50, n. 159, and the sources cited there. 53. See Chibnall, Orderic, Ecclesiastical History, 2, pp. 12-13, nn. 1-4. 54. Ibid., 2, p. 16. 55. See Appendix 1.

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approved other donations to Lyre,56 Saint-Pierre de Preaux,57 Saint-Evroul,58 and to Bee itself.59 Of even more significance to the curriculum of Bee and the date of Lanfranc's arrival is Orderic's account of Saint-Evroul's co-founder and short-time abbot Robert of Grandmesnil. Robert, abandoned the world and entered Saint-Evroul in 1050 under its first abbot, Thierry: He was the son of that most valiant lord Robert of Grandmesnil and of Hawise, daughter of Giroi. As a boy he was diligent in his studies and stood out among his schoolfellows for his remarkable memory. But when he became a youth, he put learning and leisure aside to give himself up to the strenuous arts of war, and was squire to Duke William for five years. After receiving his arms and being raised to knighthood by the duke, he was honorably endowed with riches.60

Robert of Grandmesnil, Saint-Evroul's co-founder, clearly went to school and was educated, having later left school to live as a knight. But Orderic had stated previously that no school instructing laymen or teaching the liberal arts of interest to them existed in Normandy before Lanfranc's arrival and the foundation of Bee's school. Robert of Grandmesnil must have been one of those 'sons of military commanders' educated at Bee, a 'layman living under monastic dress' who then went on to lead a lay life. If correct, this conclusion clarifies many issues. First, not only William son of Giroi but also his nephew Robert of Grandmesnil would have had deep familiarity with the curriculum at Bee. This accounts for Saint-Evroul's efforts to follow what seems to be the Bee programme, especially its legal tradition. But it begs the question of why Saint-Evroul fought so strenuously to win its independence from Bee. The answer again lies in Orderic's account. Orderic states that Robert made a vow to abandon the world because of a great battle between Robert of Grandmesml's father and his ally Roger of Tosny against one of Bee's earliest patrons, Roger of Beaumont. In this battle the elder Robert of Grandmesnil received a mortal wound — dying three weeks later, and Roger of Tosny's two sons were killed. Marjorie Chibnall dates these events in or near 1040, during Duke William's minority.61 Thus, Robert's resolve to found a monastery, and the subsequent advice proffered by his uncle William son of Giroi, occurred perhaps as early as 1040. If Robert indeed had been educated in Bee's school as a boy, then Lanfranc must have arrived in Normandy and founded the school of Bee far earlier than 1047. Orderic's chronology is somewhat confusing here, yet the implication is that Robert's father was killed during Robert's boyhood in 1040. Robert then left 56. Recueil des actes des dues de Normandie, 911-1066, ed. Marie Fauroux (Caen, 1961), no. 120. 57. Ibid., nos. 121, 149, 174, 175. 58. Ibid., no. 122. 59. Ibid., nos. 178-181, 189. 60. Orderic, Ecclesiastical History, 2, p. 40. 61. Ibid., 2, p. 40, and n. 2 for the date.

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school and served as Duke William's squire for five years, then five years later, after serving as a knight, resolved to found an abbey. The vow seems to have been made sometime during these years. Educated in Bee principles, he and his uncle seem to have broken from Bee because of its closeness to Roger of Beaumont, an early Bee patron, their enemy. Employing those same Bee precepts, over several years before 1050, they secured their independence by right of law in a legal charter. Orderic's description of Robert of Grandmesnil nine years later, at his election as abbot of Saint-Evroul in 1059, is revealing: There were sound reasons for the choice: the monks respected Robert for his noble birth and tireless energy on behalf of the monastery, and his industry and ability as an administrator . . . . From the moment that he became abbot Robert gave his mind to the business of the monastery and provided support for the servants of God from the wealth of his kindred. He respected and observed the monastic observances established by his pious predecessors, and further added to them as time and circumstance required, stimulated by the example of the Fathers and the practices of neighboring houses.62

It has been noted that Orderic's very full and detailed description of SaintEvroul's foundation by lay converts from the Giroi-Grandmesnil family closely parallels Bee's foundation by the converted knight Herluin. At Saint-Evroul, the new converts donated their own lands; or their fathers donated lands.63 Because the story of Saint-Evroul's foundation so closely mirrors that of Bee, and because later the monks of Bee in historical tracts such as the Vitae Willelmi et Bosoni and the De libertate Beccensis monasterii, were so insistent that the events of Bee's foundation constituted its 'customs', these parallel stories suggest that perhaps as early as 1040 Lanfranc taught that a set of 'customs' was proper to the correct, legal foundation of a monastery, and that William of Giroi and Robert of Grandmesnil either followed it or were represented by Orderic as meticulously following it in every respect. These customs, the Bee tracts argue, derived from the initial events of Bee's foundation. Orderic seems to argue likewise. From this line of reasoning three conclusions emerge. First, among the 'liberal arts' an important part of the early curriculum of Bee seems to have been legal studies, probably administrative studies, which emphasised healthy places to build and stressed a concern for the health, care, and well-being of the abbey's inhabitants. Running through the Bee tracts are continual references to Abbot Herluin and his successors fighting legal cases and arguing effectively in the courts to protect their lands and rights. The Vita Herluini states: The abbot strove to give due veneration to Lanfranc, and [Lanfranc] strove to show every kind of submission towards Herluin. Each was a model for the 62. ibid., 2, p. 74; my italics. 63. ibid., 2, pp. 14-16, 26, and 30-41.

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flock, one of the active life, the other of the contemplative. Herluin was skilled in resolving controversies to do with secular cases, prudent in those things that related to the world outside; in building and procuring all their necessities he could not have been cleverer or more effective without sacrificing his religious scruples.64

A passage from the Vita Lanfrand echoes that found in Herluin's Life: Therefore Abbot Herluin strove to pay Lanfranc due veneration, while Lanfranc strove to pay every kind of submission towards Herluin; each represented a model of living to the flock, one of the active life, the other of the contemplative. . . . Besides being the bulwark of his monks against crooked tax gatherers, [Herluin] was well experienced in conducting the business of secular cases and in arranging matters outside the cloister.65

Curiously, the precedents for legal activities are attributed to Herluin, not Lanfranc, who, as we have seen, Herluin secretly granted complete control of Bee; but it must be remembered that Herluin was the abbot and thus the administrator of Bee, and must be represented as the model of Bee's ideal abbot. Herluin thus appears as the active model administrator-cumlawyer, while Lanfranc, the teacher of law and liberal arts, appears as the contemplative, even though he was forced into the secular world of teaching laymen. Bee thinkers were instituting a new dichotomy on an older model — a dichotomy between doing and teaching — that may, or may not, seem alien to us. As the modern cliche has it, 'Those who can, do; those who can't, teach; and those who can't teach, teach teachers'. In Bee's case, this was clearly not the reality: the reverse may have been true. Regardless, it was evidently vital to Bee that the illiterate, unschooled Abbot Herluin be represented as a superb lawyer and administrator.66 Significantly, when Lanfranc was thrust into an active role, as happened when he became archbishop of Canterbury, he energetically plunged into the prosecution of lawsuits on every side to secure the legal customs and rights of his archbishopric.67 Paramount in these legal cases was the Bee monk's insistence that the events of his old abbey's foundation constituted its legal customs aimed at maintaining immunity from ducal or any ecclesiastical jurisdiction. As archbishop of Canterbury, Lanfranc took the circumstances of Canterbury's foundation as recorded in Bede's History as the primary legal text and as the model from which to argue for Canterbury's rights and privileges.68 Anselm later interpreted the same legal text as the basis for 64. Vita Herluini, p. 96. 65. Vita Lanfrand, col. 32. 66. Vita Herluini, p. 91. The distinct possibility that Lanfranc arrived earlier than 1040 suggests that Lanfranc may have been teaching him. In any case, his desire to learn emphasises the Bee dedication to education. 67. See especially Lanfranc's letters, The Letters of Lanfranc, ed. Helen Clover and Margaret Gibson (Oxford, 1979), epp. 2, 3 and especially ep. 4. 68. Ibid., ep. 4, lines 25-40.

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fighting for Canterbury's right to co-rule with the king and for independence from direct papal control.69 It is significant that Eadmer portrayed Anselm as arguing in court with such great skill that he demolished all arguments of his opponents at the council of Rockingham.70 While Anselm's adversaries were diligently investigating together by what cleverness and cunning they could fortify their own case so that it would be upheld, and fraudulently lie in ambush for his case . . . he would discourse on the Gospels or sometimes go to sleep. And when sometimes it happened that frauds had been prepared by subtle machinations, upon hearing them he would immediately detect and disentangle them, not like a man who had been sleeping, but like one who had been penetratingly vigilant and in touch with the matters at hand.71

In fact, when confronted with arguments that the barons at Rockingham had spent all day preparing, Anselm 'straightaway with one breath of his lips he destroys them as if they were cobwebs'.72 The Historia novorum is a record of Anselm's legal struggles throughout an archiepiscopal career directly patterned on Bede's History.73 Bee interpretations of law seem to have been extremely literal, adhering to the letter of the texts they interpreted as legal — whether oral traditions only later written down, such as Herluin's foundation of Bee, or written traditions such as Bede. This suggests a second conclusion about the curriculum of Bee relative to its use of texts. The liberal arts as taught by Lanfranc at Bee initially used charters as legal documentation, subsequently emphasising historical narrative — first oral, then written — as legal records. Gilbert Crispin and Orderic used historical narrative to preserve customs — in the latter's case legal documents as well, especially in his earliest accounts of Saint-Evroul and Normandy. They both employed records of historical events almost as legal precedents.74 After departing from Bee, both Lanfranc and Anselm took great care to leave meticulous narrative records of their actions: Lanfranc leaving his Acta Lanfranci and correspondence, and Anselm bequeathing to the abbey his monastic and episcopal correspondence. Anselm himself stated that by his

69. Vaughn, Anselm of Bee, pp. 154-63 and LSA, no. 223, a mirror image of St. Gregory the Great's letter to St. Augustine of Canterbury found in Bede's History of the English Church, book 1, c. 27, a series of Augustine's questions and Gregory's answers. Cf. LSA, no. 214, in which Anselm claims rights granted to him by Pope Urban II which echo those same Canterbury rights listed in c. 27 of Bede's history. 70. Eadmer, Historia novorum in Anglia, ed. Martin Rule, RS, 81 (London, 1884), pp. 53-70. Cf. Vaughn, Anselm of Bee, pp. 177-86, for an analysis of Eadmer's account. For Anselm's administrative and legal activities as abbot of Bee, see ibid., pp. 57-67. 71. Vita Anselmi, pp. 45-46. 72. Orderic, Historia novorum, pp. 63-64. 73. See above, no. 56, and S. Vaughn, 'Eadmer's Historia novorum: A Reinterpretation', ANS 10 (1988). 74. Orderic, Ecclesiastical History, 2, pp. 30-41, and indeed throughout vol. 2.

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actions he established customs binding upon himself and his successors,75 and took care to record these endeavours; as did his student Eadmer, although without his consent. A surprisingly large number of the students of Lanfranc and Anselm wrote historical tracts preserving customs and traditions, among whom may be counted Gilbert Crispin, William of Cormeilles, Eadmer, Milo Crispin, the English monk Osbern of Canterbury, Baldwin of Tournai, Guibert of Nogent, Robert of Torigny, Ernulf of Rochester, possibly Gilbert of Limerick, possibly Goscelin of Saint-Bertin, many anonymous monks of Bee, and by extension Orderic himself.76 The list includes some thirty Bee students (some anonymous) as authors. More than fifty historical tracts were written by these men between 1066 and 1188 — including such historical-legal collections as Lanfranc's Monastic Constitutions, Ivo of Chartres' many tracts, Lanfranc's Acta Lanfranci, and Eadmer's Historia novorum and the Vita Anselmi. We know these authors were students of Bee — many were Bee monks and others are traceable to Bee. But what about those mysterious 'sons of military commanders,' the noble laymen who flocked to Bee's school under Lanfranc? Because of the striking parallels between Bee's and Saint-Evroul's foundation stories, other parallels may be suggested. Most important is Orderic's clear statement that Robert of Grandmesnil attended school as a boy, probably in the 1040s. No school for laymen existed anywhere in Normandy except Bee. As scions of the Giroi-Grandmesnil family entered Saint-Evroul as laymen, participated in the life of Saint-Evroul as laymen, patronised and supported it as laymen, so must have the sons of the patrons of Bee. Herluin's own brothers had entered before Lanfranc's arrival. It might be suggested that the sons of the earliest donors to Bee could have been the lay 'sons of military commanders' and the 'highborn and honourable persons' adorning Bee and studying the liberal arts at Bee. The Beaumonts,77 the Crispins,78 the Clares (sons of Gilbert of Brionne),79 Jean de Saint-Philibert,80 William fitz Osbern,81 perhaps Guy of Burgundy,82 and perhaps even the sons of Duke William himself come to mind.83 To this list of donors' sons may be added those who consistently witnessed donations to Bee, such as William fitz 75. LSA, no. 355: 'For if I were so to return as that it should not be plain that the king ought not to despoil me and usurp the things of the church which are in my charge as he has done, I should establish the bad, yes servile and wicked, customs for myself and my successors by my own example . . . . Unless, therefore, he will acknowledge his error and make reparation to God for what he has done and is doing against me; so that neither he and his successor could on account of my example say to me or my successors that he is doing it according to custom . . . . I cannot see how I can return . . . .' See also, nos. 176, 210, 265, 293, 311, 391. 76. See Appendix 2. 77. Fauroux, Recueil, p. 33, no. 16. 78. Ibid., p. 33, nos. 17, 19. 79. Vita Herluini, p. 94, and Fauroux, Recueil, no. 98. 80. Ibid., p. 33, no. 18. 81. Ibid., nos. 180, 181, 189. 82. Ibid., no. 98. 83. Ibid., nos. 178, 179.

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Osbern, Roger of Beaumont and Roger of Montgomery.84 Although proof is lacking that these sons of Bee patrons were students at the abbey, they may well have been those mysterious 'sons of military commanders' Orderic reported studying at Bee. Besides producing under Lanfranc's tutelage a large number of men who later took monastic orders elsewhere than Bee, an astonishing number of historical writers and a large group of Bee monks who became administrators, it may be conjectured that the school of Bee may also have produced a nucleus of educated men in Normandy who assisted Duke William in his remarkably effective administration of the duchy and in his efficient administrative reorganization of England. As Orderic continues: A great store of learning in both the liberal arts and theology was assembled by Lanfranc in the abbey of Bee, and magnificently increased by Anselm, so that the school sent out many distinguished scholars and also prudent pilots and spiritual charioteers who have been entrusted by Divine Providence with holding the reigns of churches in the arena of this world. So by good custom the monks of Bee are so devoted to the study of letters, so eager to solve theological problems and compose edifying treatises, that almost all of them seem to be philosophers; and by association with them, even with those who pass as illiterates and are called rustics at Bee, the most erudite doctors can learn things to their advantage.85

It is indeed possible that Bee's 'philosophers', those men in possession of wisdom, were what would be called today historians, lawyers and administrators. When the magnificent administrative creation that was Anglo-Norman England is considered, shaped as it was by many laymen who were sons of Bee donors as well as by Bee monks who reigned as abbots and bishops, the possibility of the origins of these accomplishments in the 'legendary' legal skills of Lanfranc and his school at Bee comes into relief. Among the sons of the original donors to Bee can be counted at least a few educated men. It is tempting to place the Conqueror's youngest son Henry, certainly an educated man, among them. Unfortunately, where he attended school is not known, whether it was in England or Normandy. Orderic merely says, 'When he reached the age for schooling, he acquired some literacy'.86 Marjorie Chibnall does not venture to guess where. Yet Henry was born in 1068 or 1069 in England, only a year before Lanfranc was summoned to England as archbishop of Canterbury, and only ten years after he had assumed the rule of the ducal abbey of Sainte-Etienne, Caen. Considering that Lanfranc sent the first monks of Caen to Bee to receive a proper education,87 it is not inconceivable that under Lanfranc's direction the Conqueror dispatched

84. Ibid., no. 179. 85. Orderic, Ecclesiastical History, 2, p. 296; my italics. 86. Ibid., 2, p. 214. 87. Ibid., 2, p. 254, and Vita Gundulfi, ed. Rodney Thompson (Toronto, 1977), pp. 25-29.

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his youngest son to study under Lanfranc's brilliant student Anselm, whose school produced such notable scholars. Orderic states that in the third year of his reign, or shortly thereafter, King William sent Queen Matilda back to Normandy, as England was beset with rebellion and warfare.88 As Henry was then a child of two or three, it is possible that he accompanied his mother to the duchy. Henry himself often exhibited shrewd legal knowledge in his struggles with Anselm, in particular charging him with violating 'custom' in introducing the papal prohibitions of homage and investiture into England. He always insisted to Pope Paschal that he would never permit the 'customs' of England and those of his father to be violated.89 His justification for his conquest of Normandy in 1105, at least as Orderic portrayed it, was that he conquered by right of his brother's unwillingness or inability to enforce the good customs of their father.90 'A vibrant leader in war', as Orderic describes him, Henry was also the shrewdest of diplomats and the legal exemplar followed by his grandson Henry II when he began the construction of what was to become English common law. It cannot be discerned whether the Conqueror's older sons Robert Curthose, Richard (who died young) and William Rufus were formally educated. But it may be significant that King William handed over one of his daughters into the protection of Bee patron Roger of Beaumont, and that Anselm wrote at least one letter to her containing 'a garland of psalms' for her education.91 William's daughter Cecelia, later an abbess of Holy Trinity, Caen, seems to have entered 'the abbey of Caen' as a child in 1066, and was there 'carefully educated'.92 If the Conqueror took care to educate his daughters, why not his sons as well? Given that Lanfranc had been 'put on a watchtower' over all the churches of England,93 and his later promotion of Bee monks to abbeys all over England, it seems likely that if the sons of the Conqueror were all educated, it would have been at Bee. Furthermore, neither Lanfranc nor Anselm separated church and state, Anselm especially regarding government as being like 'two oxen —

88. Ibid., 2, p. 222. 89. Cf., Henry I's some letters to Anselm, ISA nos. 318, 327, 310, 319, 330, during the English Investiture Contest and the discussion of his shrewd legal manoeuvering in Vaughn, Anselm of Bee, pp. 215-64, and esp. 265-312. 90. Orderic, Ecclesiastical History, 6, pp. 284-86. 91. Ibid., 3, p. 114, and ISA, no. 10. Cf., English Historical Documents, 2, 1042-1189, ed. D. C. Douglas and G. W. Greenway (London, 1961), p. 985 and David C. Douglas, William the Conqueror (London, 1964), pp. 391-95. 92. Orderic, Ecclesiastical History, 3, pp. 8-10. 93. Vita Lanfranci, col. 41, The king always cultivated the closest friendship with Lanfranc, not only for his supreme skill in secular and sacred learning, but also for his unparalleled regard for the monastic order, expending reverence and praise upon him, venerating him as a father, revering him as a teacher, loving him as a son or brother. He entrusted to Lanfranc his inward deliberations, and put him, you might say, on a watchtower from which he could observe the rule of living for the ecclesiastical orders throughout Normandy and England.' See also, ibid., col. 34, wherein Lanfranc was also taken on as supreme counsellor by William, duke of Normandy, for administering the business of the whole province.

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the king and the archbishop of Canterbury' side by side drawing the plough of the church through the land of England.94 William Rufus, the Conqueror's second son, shared at least one thing with his brother Henry I: Robert, count of Meulan, son of Roger of Beaumont and great-nephew of Hugh of Meulan, who himself died as a Bee monk, served as their chief adviser. Robert of Meulan was also the son of one of the earliest and most generous donors to Bee, as we have seen. Robert may well have been an educated man, for throughout his life he was Anselm's chief adversary, from the time when Anselm was still abbot of Bee and Robert Bee's neighbour on the River Risle.95 As chief adviser to two kings, Robert masterminded the royal defence against Anselm's claim as England's primate to be co-ruler of England with England's king.96 During these duels, Robert of Meulan formulated a sophisticated political philosophy of raison d'etat to counter Anselm's.97 Robert also frequently appeared as Anselm's chief adversary in the legal disputes between king and archbishop.98 To William fitz Osbern, steward of Normandy, vice-regent and earl in England, regent in Normandy in the Conqueror's absence, and 'one of the greatest of William's followers', William I repeatedly entrusted the governance of both England and Normandy, thus, according to Orderic, providing 'for the administration of his kingdom'.99 On his death, fitz Osbern was mourned as a man of great generosity, ready wit and outstanding integrity. His eldest son William of Breteiul inherited his Norman lands but suffered an early death in 1102 at Bee, being buried at his father's foundation, the Bee dependency of Lyre. Orderic comments that, unlike his brother, William of Breteiul was 'the better able to keep within due bounds',100 even though he supported Robert Curthose in his rebellion against his father the duke-king.101 Perhaps Orderic was more inclined to William because he was a prominent patron of Saint-Evroul. To William fitz Osbern's younger son Roger, earl of Hereford, Orderic attributes a fascinating justification for his leading role in the Rebellion of the Earls against King William I, which was seemingly based on notions of justice and right and theories of good kingship in tandem with a legalistic refutation of William's right to conquer England. Orderic has Roger begin his speech: All thinking men believe that an opportune moment must be seized . . . . [T]he man who now calls himself king is unworthy, because he is a bastard and heaven 94. Eadmer, Historia novorum, p. 37; yet, cf., pp. 12, 40. 95. Cf., Vaughn, Anselm of Bee, passim. For the rivalry between Robert and Anselm during Anselm's abbacy, see pp. 106-16. 96. Eadmer, Historia novorum, pp. 40, 62, 82 bis, 170 and cf., Vaughn, Anselm of Bee, pp. 164ff. 97. Orderic, Ecclesiastical History, 5, p. 316; and cf., Vaughn, Anselm of Bee, pp. 149-53, 164-69. 98. Cf. esp. Eadmer, Historia novorum, pp. 40, 62, 82 bis, 170 bis. 99. Orderic, Ecclesiastical History, 2, pp. 202, 260, 280, 282. 100. Ibid., 3, pp. 128, and 128-30. 101. Ibid., 3, p. 100.

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has made it plain that it is not God's pleasure that such a leader should govern the kingdom. He is harassed on every side by wars overseas; he is attacked as much by his own kin as by strangers, and is deserted by his closest followers in the thick of battle. This is his just desert for his sins, which are all too well known everywhere . . . ,102

Roger continued with accusations of illegal disseisin, murder and poisoning against William, listing many crimes. William 'presumptuously invaded the fair kingdom of England and unjustly slew its true heirs or drove them into harsh exile'. Roger also accused William of not rewarding his faithful followers properly — giving them barren lands and then illegally repossessing them after their tenants had made them fertile. Finally, Roger asserts that the gentle, peace-loving English farmers deserve the justice of vengeance for the ruin of their kinsmen.103 Later, he told Earl Waltheolf, 'Take just vengeance for the injuries you have received. . . . We wish to restore all the good customs that the realm of Albion enjoyed in the time of the virtuous King Edward'.104 Taken step by step, this argument, appropriate to one learned in Norman law, is a rational, point by point, legalistic argument. It is almost reminiscent of Lanfranc's method of argument found in De corpore et sanguine Domini. It may well be significant that after these rebels were defeated and had fled the battlefield, Earl Roger was the only one among them who subsequently obeyed the king's summons to court to be tried for his rebellion, there to be 'judged by the laws of the Normans'.105 By this statement Orderic seems to be implying, as he earlier had Roger state, that the earl believed that inhabitants of England ought to be judged by the 'good customs that the realm of Albion enjoyed under the virtuous King Edward'. The implication is that the dispute was a legal one that unfortunately turned violent. Roger II of Montgomery also became an earl, of Shrewsbury, taking on heavy administrative duties on the Welsh frontier. Like William fitz Osbern, he served as regent in Normandy.106 For reasons Orderic does not give, in 1060 Roger 'incited [Duke William] to anger against his [Norman] neighbours'. The quick-tempered duke then confiscated the lands of Roger of Tosny, Hugh of Grandmesnil, and Arnulf of Echauffour [a Grandmesnil relative] and their men, driving them into exile. All for no reason, Orderic states; but then he relates that in fear of his life Robert of Grandmesnil abbot of Saint-Evroul fled 'to lay his case before Pope Nicholas'. Meanwhile, Duke William, on the advice of Ansfrid of Preaux (an abbey later under Bee's influence) and of Lanfranc of Bee, appointed Osbern, the prior of Cormeilles (which was also a Bee dependency), and invested him, all unaware and unwilling, as abbot of Saint-Evroul, with Robert of Grandmesnil still living and not legally deposed.107 The whole story 102. 103. 104. 105. 106. 107.

Ibid., 2, p. 312. Ibid., 2, p. 312. Ibid., 2, p. 314. Ibid., 2, p. 318. Ibid., 2, p. 210. Ibid., 2, p. 93.

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suggests a legal dispute, with legal action being taken by many students of Bee against the rebellious abbey of Saint-Evroul, which Orderic had so strongly asserted had gained its independence from control by Bee.108 Yet, as Orderic does not date this crucial charter, it appears likely that Orderic has inserted the charter early in the story when it must have been granted at the earliest after the deposition and exile of Abbot Robert of Grandmesnil. If Roger of Montgomery had studied at Bee, it woiild not be surprising to find him working in close coordination with Bee students and dependents Ansfrid of Preaux, Osbern of Cormeilles, and with their teacher Lanfranc to squash the apparent revolt of the Bee dependency at Saint-Evroul — which only later successfully gained its independence. The enmity between Roger II of Montgomery and Hugh of Grandmesnil continued to chafe them both.109 Nevertheless, Orderic ranked them together as part of a brilliant galaxy of magnates of Normandy, along with other Bee patrons and sons of Bee patrons such as William fitz Osbern, Roger of Beaumont, and Baldwin and Richard, sons of Count Gilbert of Brionne, later to be known as the Clares.110 These men, Orderic stated, 'excelled in judgement and wise counsel. They would have yielded nothing to the Roman Senate in talents or experience, but bid fair to equal them in enduring toil and in outwitting as well as overpowering their enemies'.111 Roger II of Montgomery excelled too in founding abbeys — notably Troarn and Saint-Martin of Seez,112 the latter of which produced Ralph d'Escures, an archbishop of Canterbury after Anselm's time. The Clares, Baldwin and Richard de Bienfait, sons of Count Gilbert of Brionne, were preeminent among Anselm's close friends. Anselm wrote to Richard and his wife Rohais, and to their little daughter, the nun M.113 This family founded two Bee dependencies in England, Stoke-by-Clare and Saint-Neots. At the latter, significant efforts were made to discern and preserve the historical record in two post-Conquest biographies of Saint-Neots — one clearly a product of a Bee monk.114 King William appointed Richard de Bienfait among 'his chief ministers for all business in England', and Richard, together with William of Warenne, conducted one of the sieges during the Rebellion of the Earls.115 It may be significant that several of these sons of Bee donors also had a household — a miniature of the king's household — during his lifetime, among whom

108. Ibid., 2, p. 38. 109. Ibid., 2, p. 130. 110. Ibid., 2, p. 140. The other magnates Orderic includes are Richard count of Evreux, the son of Archbishop Robert; Count Robert, son of William lord of Eu; Count Robert of Mortain; Ralph of Conches, son of Ralph of Tosny, standard-bearer of the Normans; William of Warenne; Hugh the Butler; and Roger of Mowbray. 111. Ibid., 2, p. 140. 112. Ibid., 2, pp. 20-22, 48, 66-68. 113. ISA, nos. 94, 184. 114. Cf., David Dumville and Michael Lapidge, ed., The Annals of St. Neot's, with 'Vita prima Sancti neoti' (Cambridge, 1984), vol. 17 of The Anglo-Saxon Chronicle: A Collaborative Edition, pp. xliii-xlvii, and cxii-cxvi. 115. Orderic, Ecclesiastical History, 2, p. 326.

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were Roger of Beaumont and his son Robert of Meulan, William fitz Osbern and his son William of Breteiul, and Roger II of Montgomery.116 The search for the curriculum of Bee seems to point to administration and law. The search for the students of Bee leads clearly to a galaxy of ecclesiastical administrators as well as to a surprisingly full list of historical writers who were concerned with custom as law. What is not so clear, but remains an intriguing possibility, is the lay component of the Bee school. That laymen attended the Bee school cannot be doubted; but that they were the very men who participated in the governance and administration of Normandy and England under the Conqueror is a matter of conjecture. Certainties are few; yet who, other than those mysterious 'sons of military commanders', could they indeed be? These were the men who began life as the sons of Bee's neighbours and prominent donors, and later emerged in adulthood as the great administrators of the Anglo-Norman realm. Were they not also, like the great ecclesiastical administrators who emerged from the school of Bee, 'prudent pilots and spiritual charioteers'?

116. For Roger II of Montgomery, see ibid., 2, p. 262, n. 4; for William fitz Osbern and William of Breteuil, ibid., 3, p. 130, n. 2; for Roger of Beaumont and Robert of Meulan, see Vaughn, Anselm of Bee, pp. 95, 353-59.

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Appendix 1 The Students of Bee, 1042-1170 Some individuals listed below are further identified by the following superscript numbers: 1. monks of Saint-Etienne, Caen, which Bee considered 'sons of our sons' because these monks were sent to Bee for training; 2. elected archbishop of Rouen in 1070, but refused; 3. educated and trained by Archbishop Theobald; 4. Hugh of Trottiscliff, abbot of St. Augustine's Canterbury, 1126-51, a former monk of Rochester, a 'daughter' house of Bee, might be added; 5. monk of Lessay, similarly a Bee 'daughter' house; 6. see Vaughn, 'Lanfranc at Bee'; 7. elected bishop of London in 1138, but refused.

NORMANDY Archbishops (1) William Bonne Ame: Rouen, 1079-1110 Abbots (32) Ralph: Lyre, after 1091 and before 1145 Gilbert II: Conches, between 1050 and 1147 Ranulf 1 : Lonlay, after 1074 and before 1186 Roger: Lessay, c. 1080-1106 Geoffrey: Lessay, 1106-? Guarinus: Lessay, n.d. Robert1: Lessay, c. 1118 Ralph1: Lessay, d. 1152 Lanfranc the Younger: Sainte-Wandrille, 1089-91 Roger of Caen1: Mont-Saint-Michele, 1085-1105 Bernard: Mont-Saint-Michele, 1131-49 Gaufredis: Mont-Saint-Michele, 1149-50 Robert of Torigny: Mont-Saint-Michele, 1154-86 Richard: Preaux, 1101-25 Michael: Preaux, 1152-68 Henry: Preaux, 1167-81 Roger: Jumieges, 1166-76 William: Cormeilles, before 1094-1109 Durand: Ivry, before 1071 William: Ivry, n.d. Norman: Ivry, ?1168 William of Rots: Fecamp, 1079-1107 Lanfranc: Saint-Etienne, Caen, 1063-70 William Bonne Ame: Saint-Etienne, Caen, 1070-79 Gilbert1: Saint-Etienne, Caen, 1079-1101

Lanfranc, Anselm and the School of Bee Robert1: Saint-Etienne, Caen, 1101-07 Herluin: Bee, 1034-79 Anselm: Bee, 1079-93 William: Bee, 1093-1124 Boso: Bee, 1124-36 Theobald: Bee, 1136-39 Letard: Bee, 1139-49

ENGLAND Archbishops (5) Lanfranc2: Canterbury, 1070-89 Anselm: Canterbury, 1093-1109 Theobald: Canterbury, 1139-56 Thomas Becket: Canterbury, 1156-703 Thomas I: York, 1070-1101 Bishops (3) Hernost: Rochester, 1076 Gundulf: Rochester, 1076-1108 Ernulf: Rochester, 1114-23? Abbots (19)4 Henry: Battle, 1096-1102 Ralph: Battle, 1107-24 Richard: Ely, 1100-07 Richard: St. Werburgh's, Chester, 1092-1117 Gilbert Crispin: Westminster, 1085-1117/18 Thurstan 1 : Glastonbury, 1077-1118 Herluin 1 : Glastonbury, 1082-1118 William Scotus: Cerne, 1114-44/5 Gilbert de Lungrille: Colchester, 1117-40 Walter1: Evesham, 1077-1104 Ralph1: Rochester, P-1107 Ernulf: Peterborough, 1107-14 Martin: Peterborough, 1132-35 Paul1: St. Albans, 1077-93 (He was Lanfranc's nephew. Richard de Aubigny 5 : St. Albans, 1097-1119 Alebald of Jerusalem: Bury St. Edmunds, 1114-19 Reginald1: Ramsey, 1113/14-31 Hugh de Flori: St. Augustine's Canterbury, 1108-26

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The Culture of Christendom Priors (7 — to date) Nicholas: Rochester, n.d. Hamelin: St. Alban's, n.d. Henry: Christ Church, Canterbury, 1074-96 Elmer: Christ Church, Canterbury, ?-1137 Martin: St. Neots, 1127-32 Herbert: St. Neots, 1152-58 [Robert, probably first prior of Stoke-by-Clare, c. 1095] Monks of Canterbury trained in the Bee tradition (3) Conrad: St. Benet's, Holme, 1126-27 Geoffrey: Dunfermline, 1128-? William Dirdint: bishop of Chester-Coventry, 1149-59

SCOTLAND AND IRELAND Bishops (2) Eadmer: St. Andrews, 1121 Gilbert: Limerick, c. 1107/9-?

FRANCE Bishops (2) Ivo: Chartres, 1109-16 Fulk: Beauvais, 1089-95 Abbots (4) Adelelm: Anchin, n.d. Landrid: St. Wulmer, n.d. Guibert: Nogent, n.d. Ivo: Saint-Quentin, Beauvais, ?-1109 Priors (1 — to date) Alebald of Jerusalem: Saint-Nicaise de Meulan, ?-1114

GERMANY Abbots (1) William: Wersberg, n.d.

Lanfranc, Anselm and the School of Bee ITALY Popes (1) Alexander II: 1061-736 Cardinals (1) John: 1093-1112 (also bishop of Tusculum) Bishops (3) Anselm: Lucca, 1056-61 (later Pope Alexander II) Guitmond: Aversa, 1088-? John: Tusculum, 1093-1112 Papal Legates (2) John: Cardinal-Bishop of Tusculum, 1101 Anselm: 1115-1119 (nephew of St. Anselm)7 Abbots (3) John: Telese, post-1090 (later bishop of Tusculum) John: S. Sabas, Rome, n.d. Anselm: S. Sabas, Rome (nephew of St. Anselm), n.d.

TOTALS TO DATE Popes Cardinals Papal Legates Archbishops Bishops Abbots Priors Total High Church Offices Held by Students of Bee Or its 'Sons'

1 1 2 6 11 61 8

90

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Appendix 2 Historians Connected to Bee Osbern of Canterbury: Life of St. Elphege (1080) Osbern of Canterbury: Life of St. Dunstan, now lost (post-1080) Anonymous: Life Of St. Neot, 'Vita 1' (1066-c. 1080) Anonymous: Life of St. Neot, 'Vita 2', the 'Bee' life (1066-1200) Lanfranc: Laudes, triumphos et res gestas of William the Conqueror, now lost (1066-89) Anonymous: Plea of Penenden Heath (1072) Anonymous: Scriptum Lanfranci de primatie (c. 1075) Lanfranc? or Anselm?: Acta Lanfranci (1070-93) An anonymous Bee monk: De nobile genere Crispinorum (c. 1080) Goscelin: Lives of SS. Edith of Wilton, Wulfhilda of Barking, Werberga of Ely, dedicated to Lanfranc (1080-90) Anonymous: Collection of Lanfranc's letters (c. 1089) Anonymous: Collection of Anselm's letters (c. 1089) Anonymous: Collection of Anselm's letters, revised (1093) William of Cormeilles: Letter to Abbot William, includes an anecdote, Lanfranc's installation as prior of Bee Eadmer: Lives of SS. Wilfrid, Oda, Dunstan (1105-09?) Anonymous: Collection of Anselm's episcopal letters (pre-1109) Eadmer: Life of St. Oswald (1095-1113/15) Guibert of Nogent: Gesta Dei per Francos (c. 1108) Gilbert Crispin: Life of Herluini (1109-17) Eadmer: Life of Anselm, the writing of which Anselm stopped in 1100 (c. 1109) Eadmer: Historia novorum (c. 1109) Anonymous: Alter a Vita Herluini (post-1109) Gilbert of Limerick: De Statu Ecclesia (post-1109) Anonymous: De iniuste Vexatione Willelmi Episcopi Primi (post-1112/13) Monk of Rochester: Life of Gundulf (1114-24) Eadmer: Life of Anselm, first revision (c. 1114) Guibert of Nogent: 'Memoirs' (c. 1115) Bishop Ernulf of Rochester: Textus Roffensis (1115-24) Monk of Saint-Vaast: Life of St. Ida (1114-20) Eadmer: Historia Novorum, completed with two more books (c. 1120) Anonymous compiler at Bury St. Edmunds: Annals of St. Neots (1120—40) Eadmer: 'Miracles' of St. Anselm, attached to the Life of St. Anselm (1122) Eadmer: Life of Archbishop Bretwine (1123) Guibert of Nogent: Tracts praising Virgin, on relics (1125) Milo Crispin (?): Life of Willelm et Boso, abbots of Bee (1126-38) Anonymous: Life of Lanfranc (1126-38) Orderic Vitalis: Historia Ecclesiastica (1115-37) Anonymous: De lihertate Beccensis monasterii (1136) Geoffrey of Monmouth: History of the Kings of Britain (1130-36) Robert of Torigny: Chronicle (1139) Robert of Torigny: De immutatione ordines monachorum (c. 1139)

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Monk of Conflans, a Bee priory: 'Miracles' of St. Nicholas (1090-1140) Monk of Conflans: 'Miracles' of St. Honorine (1090-1140) Robert of Torigny: Interpolations to William of Jumieges (c. 1139) John of Salisbury: Historia pontificalis is begun (1148) John of Salisbury: Life of Anselm (1148-1176) John of Salisbury: Policraticus (1159) Anonymous: Lives of Theobald et Letard, abbots of Bee (post-1161) Gervase of Canterbury: Chronicon, Acta pontificum and Gesta regum (1188-1209)

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8

William II, Henry I and the Church C. Warren Hollister

I can recall in the course of a discussion Denis Bethell remarking that the great difference between William II and Henry I was that the latter knew exactly how to handle the church.1 Afterwards, having reread Denis's unpublished thesis on William of Corbeil, archbishop of Canterbury, I encountered a similarly favourable view of Henry I as a king intent on upholding his royal customs yet by no means opposed in principle to ecclesiastical reform.2 He was, quite simply, a much better friend to the church than his brother and predecessor, William Rufus, as I intend to demonstrate in this essay. It is a view that would have found few challengers in the twelfth century and fewer still in the nineteenth. As E.A. Freeman put it in his two-volume biography of William Rufus published by Oxford in 1882, 'The arrow, by whomsoever shot, set England free from oppression such as she never felt before or after at the hand of a single man'.3 If this judgment strikes us 1. I knew and admired Denis Bethell as a close friend, a companion in travel, an unparalleled expert at having a good time, and a scholar whose mind was at once encyclopedic and keenly analytical. We first met at Oxford in 1965. Some years later Denis joined me in Santa Barbara for a term (during which Marc A. Meyer served as Denis's Teaching Assistant); several years afterwards, during the summer before he died, Denis was planning to welcome me and my wife Edith to Dublin and guide us on a tour of Ireland. As it turned out, Denis was at Leeds that summer, suffering from cancer. He was in a period of remission, however, and was able to substitute for our Irish tour a marvellous journey through northern England, from Lindisfarne to Hexham, Ruthwell, Carlisle, St. Bee's and the unforgettable ruins of Furness Abbey. During those summer days, driving through the north of England, we talked a great deal about this and that. We laughed, sometimes we sang, and occasionally we went so far as to discuss medieval history. It is one such discussion that inspired this essay, in Denis's memory, on William II, Henry I, and the church. My paper was originally published, in slightly different form, in the 1987-88 issue of Peritia: The Journal of the Medieval Academy of Ireland, as the Denis Bethell Memorial Lecture at University College, Dublin. Because the 1987-88 issue of Peritia actually emerged only in 1990, and because the journal is not easily available, it seemed to me reasonable to publish it again in this volume. I am grateful to Dr. Donnchadh O Corfain, the editor of Peritia, for permitting me to do so. It is a particular pleasure to contribute to a volume edited by Dr. Marc Anthony Meyer because Denis and I were jointly responsible for guiding him through his graduate career — Denis at University College Dublin, where Marc earned his M.Phil., and I at the University of California, Santa Barbara where he earned his Ph.D. 2. D. L. T. Bethell, 'The Archiepiscopate of William of Corbeil, 1123-1136' (unpublished B.Litt. thesis, Oxford University, 1962). 3. Edward A. Freeman, The Reign of William Rufus and the Accession of Henry I, 2 vols (Oxford, 1882), 2, p. 337.

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today as an embarrassing exercise in Victorian overstatement, it must be said in Freeman's defense that his writing exhibits admirable restraint when compared to that of his twelfth-century sources. Orderic Vitalis speaks for many contemporaries when he writes of Rufus: Stained with his sins, he set a culpable example of shameful debauchery to his subjects . . . . Churches lay vacant through his insatiable greed for the revenues, which were gathered into the king's coffers, and the Lord's sheep, deprived of their shepherds, were left undefended to be devoured by wolves.4

In our own century William Rufus's stock has risen sharply and Henry I's has tended to decline. In 1945 Vivian Galbraith provided us a wise and oft-cited warning against the simplistic tendency to divide England's rulers into good kings and bad kings, and he paired Rufus with John as 'the objects, in all probability, of a more active misrepresentation by the chroniclers than any or all of the others . . . . The surviving portraits are unquestionably mere savage caricatures'.5 Some years earlier R.W. Southern, in his Alexander Prize Essay of 1932, had portrayed William Rufus's chief administrator and righthand man, Ranulf Flambard, with a refreshing absence of Victorian moral disapproval,6 and he later drew a memorable and not unfavorable contrast between Flambard and his administrative counterpart under Henry I: 'The symbol of the change', Southern wrote, 'is the replacement of the readywitted, outrageous, rumbustious Ranulf Flambard, bishop of Durham, by the sombre, shrewd financial expert, Roger, bishop of Salisbury, with his interest in good causes and his wife of whom no one spoke'.7 One encounters something of this same contrast in the works of Frank Barlow, the foremost modern authority on Rufus's reign, who credits him with confirming the royal power in England and restoring the ducal rights in Normandy, yet never making a sad labor of his humdrum task: 'He was a buffoon with a purpose, a jester who accepted his father's mantle but spread its extravagant caprice.'8 Barlow does not hesitate to characterize Rufus's treatment of the English church as 'brutal', but he acknowledges substantial differences between the ecclesiastical policies of William I, William II, and 4. The Ecclesiastical History of Orderic Vitalis, 6 vols., ed. and trans. Marjorie Chibnall, Oxford Medieval Texts (Oxford 1969-1980), 5, p. 202. (I use Chibnall's translation here and throughout.) Similarly, ibid., 4, pp. 172-74; Henrici archidiaconi Huntendunensis Historia Anglorum, ed. Thomas Arnold, RS, 74 (London, 1879), p. 239; Florentii Wignorniensis Chronicon ex chronicis, 2 vols., ed. Benjamin Thorpe, (London, 1848-49) p. 44; and the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, s.a. 1100. 5. V. H. Galbraith, 'Good Kings and Bad Kings in Medieval English History', History 30 (1945), pp. 119-32. 6. R. W. Southern, 'Ranulf Flambard and Early Anglo-Norman Administration', TRHS, fourth series, 16 (1933), pp. 95-128, reprinted in revised form in R. W. Southern, Medieval Humanism and Other Studies (Oxford, 1970), pp. 183-205. 7. Ibid., p. 231, from Southern's 1962 Raleigh Lecture, 'The Place of Henry I in English History', Proceedings of the British Academy 48 (1962), pp. 127-69. 8. Frank Barlow, The Feudal Kingdom of England, 1042-1216 (London, 1955; 3rd edn. 1972). p. 170.

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Henry I, apart from variations in style: 'Rufus', Barlow writes, 'was a slightly more polished version of his father, although by no means a smooth as his younger brother, Henry'.9 With the exception of Archbishop Anselm, Rufus enjoyed the full support of his episcopate, and his nomination of Anselm to Canterbury in March 1093, when the king believed that he was on the verge of death, is seen by Barlow as his one major political error.10 Other scholars have joined the effort to redeem Rufus and Flambard from the vilifications of monk-historians and eminent Victorians. Professor Thomas Callahan's 1981 article, 'The Making of a Monster: The Historical Image of William Rufus', neatly embodies its thesis in its title.11 And Dr. Emma Mason, arguing that the major historians in Henry I's reign tended to draw heavily from the somewhat earlier and deeply biased accounts of Eadmer of Canterbury, Anselm's biographer and companion in exile, sees Rufus as, in reality, an altogether admirable king who successfully defended the royal dignity and customs against the aggressions of militant Gregorianism.12 The ecclesiastical policies of Henry I, Mason states, differed from those of William Rufus in only two respects: first, Henry 'disguised them under a veneer of bureaucracy and custom', and second, he applied them more severely than Rufus had done; his treatment of the church 'was simply William's writ large'.13 I am by no means confident that Vivian Galbraith would have approved of rehabilitating this 'bad king' so thoroughly as to elevate him into the equally dubious category of the 'good king' — or, in Mason's words, 'the resolute and forward-looking King William II'.14 So, in the honorable tradition of Galbraith, and of Denis Bethell, let me now inflict a process of systematic doubt on the hypothesis, implicit in some modern writers and explicit in others, that Henry I pursued essentially the same policies toward the church that Rufus did but disguised them with soothing words and slick public relations. The stylistic difference between the two regimes, a matter on which all would agree, emerges vividly in the contemporary sources. Eadmer's Historia novorum provides numerous striking vignettes: Ranulf Flambard, 'full of insolence and self-importance', creating a furore at Anselm's archiepiscopal

9. Frank Barlow, The English Church, 1066-1154: A History of the Anglo-Norman Church (London, 1979), p. 67, also pp.70, 91, 297-98; and Frank Barlow, William Rufus (London, 1983), pp. 181-82, 434-35, and passim. 10. Barlow, English Church, p. 70, and William Rufus, p. 337. 11. Journal of Medieval History 7 (1981), pp. 175-85; for a dissenting opinion see Victoria Chandler, 'Historical Revision and the English Monarchy: The Case of William II and His Barons', Indiana Social Science Quarterly 33 (1980), pp. 41-48. 12. Emma Mason, 'William Rufus: Myth and Reality', Journal of Medieval History 3 (1977), pp. 1-20. 13. Ibid., pp. 2, 5, 15. 14. Ibid., p. 18. I am doubtful, too, that Barlow would approve.

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enthronement ceremony by launching a lawsuit against Canterbury.15 Or Rufus responding to Anselm's refusal to contribute to the Norman expedition of 1094: Yesterday I hated him with great hatred; today I hate him with still greater hatred, and he can be certain that tomorrow and thereafter I shall hate him continually with ever fiercer and more bitter hatred. I absolutely refuse any longer to regard him as father or archbishop. As for his blessings and prayers, I utterly abominate them and spew them from me.16

Assuredly, Rufus is an entertaining character, although I much prefer to enjoy such entertainment across an interval of nine centuries rather than face to face. With Henry I we enter another world — a world of gentle words and circumlocutions. In early 1106 Henry replied by letter to Anselm's complaint that he was levying improper fines against churchmen: 'I will have all my barons gathered about me, and in accordance with their counsel I will then reply, giving you an explanation that will be so satisfactory to you that, when you and I come to talk it over, I am certain that you will not blame me for what I have done'.17 Earlier, during Anselm's exile resulting from an impasse over investiture, Henry wrote in honeyed words, grieving that Anselm declined to follow his predecessor Lanfranc in permitting the king to invest prelates: if only Anselm would be with Henry 'like your predecessor Lanfranc was with my father for many years', then Henry would grant to Anselm 'all the honor and dignity and friendship that my father gave to your predecessor . . . because I would wish to have no mortal man with me more willingly than you'.18 Anselm replied with a firm refusal framed in similarly affectionate words: if Henry would only relinquish investitures, 'with no other king or prince on earth would I so willingly live, no other so willingly serve'.19 Illuminated by sources such as these, the English investiture controversy takes on something of the aspect of a lovers' quarrel. Turning from style to substance, one does find similarities between the two regimes, but such similarities are shared by virtually all competent medieval princes: a need of adequate revenues, which can become an urgent need in time of war;20 and a determination to uphold inherited royal customs. Regarding the latter, Rufus repeatedly accused Anselm of trying to rob him of the crown 15. Eadmeri historia novorum in Anglia, ed. Martin Rule, RS, 81 (London, 1884), p. 41. 16. Ibid., p. 52. 17. S. Anselmi Cantuariensis archiepiscopi opera omnia, 6 vols., ed. F. S. Schmitt (Edinburgh, 1946-61), ep. 392. Cf. Martin Brett, The English Church Under Henry I (Oxford, 1975), p. 7, who states that Henry I is 'an elusive character with a marked capacity for concealing his motives and emotions'. 18. S. Anselmi. . . opera omnia, ep. 318 (A.D. 1104). 19. Ibid., ep. 319. 20. Cf., Southern, Medieval Humanism, p. 188: Tlambard initiated the tireless search for money for foreign conquest which is the hall-mark of English government in the Middle Ages'.

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and jewel of his sovereignty,21 and Henry, in an otherwise friendly letter to Paschal II, assured him that, 'so long as I live, the dignities and usages of the English realm shall not be diminished'.22 Apart from such basic and predictable similarities, the two regimes displayed significant differences, not only in the style but in the substance of their policies toward the church. Because Rufus has fairly recently been credited with defending England against the newly aggressive Gregorian papacy,23 it seems necessary to make clear that no such defence occurred in Rufus's reign because none was needed. As Professor Sally Vaughn demonstrates in her recent book on Anselm and Robert of Meulan (to which I am indebted for much of what follows)24 the issues dividing Anselm and Rufus had nothing directly to do with Gregorian reform. They had to do with what Anselm regarded as Rufus's assault on the dignities of Canterbury as embodied in the customs of Lanfranc. Anselm was no less determined than William Rufus and Henry I to uphold the customs and honors of his stewardship: as he said in a letter of 1108 to Thomas II, elect of York, 'You can be very certain that I shall strive in every possible way to see that the church [of Canterbury] does not lose one scrap of her prestige in my time'.25 Anselm assumed precisely this position with respect to Rufus. They quarrelled over the enfeoffment of royal knights on Canterbury estates (which Lanfranc had struggled so long to recover);26 they squabbled over Rufus's refusal to fill vacant abbacies, or to permit Anselm to summon a primatial reform council (in the tradition of Lanfranc, not Hildebrand);27 and they argued over the canonical requirement that Anselm receive his archiepiscopal pallium from pope Urban II — whom Anselm had recognized while abbot of Bee, but whom Rufus had declined to recognize until 1095 because of the rival claim of the antipope Clement III.28 With Anselm needing a pallium and Rufus refusing to recognize either pope, trouble was inevitable — but it had nothing to do with lay investiture or clerical homage.29 The fact that Anselm had disputes with both Rufus and Henry I, and suffered exiles in both their reigns, suggests a similarity in the policies of the two regimes that, on closer scrutiny, proves to be an illusion. The issues dividing Anselm and Henry I, who, when he recalled the archbishop from exile immediately after being crowned, did so with the full intention of respecting the dignities of Canterbury as Anselm interpreted them.30 But while in exile, Anselm had 21. Eadmer, Historia novorum, pp. 53, 54, 58. 22. 5. Anselmi. . . opera omnia, ep. 215. 23. See above, n. 11. 24. Sally N. Vaughn, Anselm of Bee and Robert of Meulan: The Innocence of the Dove and the 'Wisdom of the Serpent (Berkeley, 1987), esp. cc. 5-7. 25. 5. Anselmi. . . opera omnia, ep. 455. 26. Eadmer, Historia novorum, pp. 48-50. 27. Ibid. 28. Ibid., pp. 52-53. 29. See, in general, Vaughn, Anselm of Bee, pp. 149-203. 30. S. Anselmi . . , opera omnia, ep. 212; cf. ep. 210 wherein Anselm states to Paschal II the conditions on which he might return to England.

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attended the Roman synod of 1099 where he had witnessed and affirmed the solemn papal and synodal condemnation of lay investiture and clerical homage.31 The English investiture controversy thus commenced abruptly on Anselm's return from exile in September 1100. It constituted a fundamental reorientation of Anselm's relationship with the English monarchy; rather than Anselm striving to defend the lands and customs of Canterbury, Henry I was obliged to defend fundamentally important prerogatives of the crown. Whereas Rufus had denied Anselm the customs of Lanfranc, the papacy, through Anselm's agency, was endeavouring to deny Henry the customs of William the Conqueror. And the filling of episcopal and abbatial vacancies which had accumulated under Rufus was now delayed not by royal policy as before but by Henry's insistence on continuing to invest prelates-elect and Anselm's refusal to consecrate such people on the grounds of the papal ban.32 Anselm's former mantle as defender of his stewardship now passed to Henry. Pope Paschal II dropped the issue of clerical homage fairly early in the controversy,33 but the contest over investiture persisted, eventually propelling Anselm into a second exile, which continued until Henry I, under the pressure of a Norman war, agreed in 1105 to abandon the custom.34 The investiture controversy was thus, in essence, a struggle between Henry 1, defending royal custom, and the papacy, which valued truth over custom. Anselm, who never expressed any personal interest in the rights or wrongs of lay investiture per se, was caught in the middle — unable to cooperate with the king without betraying the pope. The agreement of 1105, ratified at Bee in 1106 and at Westminster in 1107,35 was less a compromise (although Paschal formally conceded clerical homage) than a surrender by Henry, mediated by Anselm, of a highly valued but ultimately dispensable customary ritual. With the settlement, relations between Anselm and the monarchy became, for the first time, untroubled. Anselm wrote a warmly congratulatory letter rejoicing at Henry's conquest of Normandy.36 And Henry respected the customs of Canterbury, as he had intended to do from the beginning and had been prepared to do at any time during the controversy if Anselm had been willing to defy the papacy on investiture and be with Henry as Lanfranc had been with William the Conqueror.37 31. Eadmer, Historia novorum, p. 114; Pope Paschal II recalled the condemnation as having occurred at the council of Bari in 1098, which Anselm also attended, S. Anselmi . . . opera omnia, ep. 282 (Paschal II to Anselm), 'Reverendae in Christo memoriae praedecessoris nostri domni Urbani tempore, apud Barim collecto venerabilium episcoporum et abbatum ex diversis partibus concilio, in quo tua religio et nos ipsi interfuimus, sicut fratres qui nobiscum aderant reminiscuntur, in eandem pestem excommunicationis est prolata sententia' [in reference to the investiture of churches]. 32. See, in general, Vaughn, Anselm of Bee, pp. 214-64. 33. R. W. Southern, Saint Anselm and his Biographer (Cambridge, 1963), pp. 171-93. 34. Vaughn, Anselm of Bee, pp. 283-95. 35. Councils and Synods, with Other Documents Relating to the English Church, A.D. 871-1204, ed. Dorothy Whitelock, Martin Brett, and C. N. L. Brooke (Oxford, 1981), 1, part 2, pp. 689-94. 36. S. Anselmi. . . opera omnia, ep. 402. 37. See above, nn. 18, 34.

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Henry, then, regarded the relationship between Lanfranc and William the Conqueror as the paradigm of his own relationship with the archbishop of Canterbury, or at least he said so. Are his words borne out by the historical evidence? With regard to the issue of ecclesiastical councils, they are indeed. 'Canterbury's superior governmental powers', in Barlow's words, 'consisted almost entirely in the right to hold what were usually called by contemporary writers general councils of the English church'.38 It is not always easy or even possible to determine whether such councils were primatial, provincial or legatine, or to distinguish them absolutely from royal councils: the archbishops and bishops participated routinely in royal councils, and the king and lay magnates usually attended ecclesiastical councils. The same was true in Normandy where, for example, the business of the council of Lillebonne in 1080 included both ecclesiastical discipline and ducal jurisdiction.39 Lillebonne was the last of a series of synods of the province of Rouen under William the Conqueror. Raymonde Foreville has identified no less than sixteen and possibly seventeen such Norman synods during William's rule, ranging from the 1040s to 1080, most of them presided over by the archbishop of Rouen or by the duke and archbishop jointly, and dealing with ecclesiastical reform and discipline.40 In England, Lanfranc presided over reform councils, usually jointly with the king, in 1072, 1075, 1076, 1077-78, 1080, and 1085. These councils reformed and reshaped the English church — enacting legislation against simony and clerical marriage, licensing the relocations of several episcopal sees, delineating and reinforcing episcopal jurisdictional authority, and prohibiting irregular sacramental and liturgical practices.41 With the accession of Rufus, ecclesiastical councils ceased. Two were held in Normandy under Duke Robert Curthose but none whatever in England, even during King William II's initial two years, while Lanfranc still lived. Archbishop Anselm pressed Rufus repeatedly for permission to summon a reform council, but Rufus would not be budged: 'I will deal with these things when I think fit', he told Anselm in 1094, 'not at your pleasure but at mine . . . . Enough . . . , say no more about it'.42 'Florence* of Worcester reports that Anselm had his final quarrel with Rufus in 1097 'because from the time of his having been made archbishop he had not been allowed to hold a synod and correct the evil practices which had grown up in all parts of England, so he crossed the sea . . . ,'43 It will not be surprising that in Normandy, after two synods of the province of Rouen under Robert Curthose's rule (1091 and February 1096), 38. Barlow, English Church, p. 120. 39. Raymonde Foreville, The Synod of the Province of Rouen in the Eleventh and Twelfth Centuries', in C. N. L. Brooke, D. E. Luscombe, G. H. Martin and Dorothy Owen, eds., Church and Government in the Middle Ages: Essays Presented to D. R. Cheney on his Seventieth Birthday (Cambridge, 1976), p. 26. 40. Ibid., pp. 21-27. 41. Barlow, English Church, pp. 119-28; Councils and Synods, 1, part 2, pp. 591-634. 42. Eadmer, Historia novorum, pp. 48-49. 43. Florentii . . . chronicon ex chronicis, 2 vols., ed. B. Thorpe, English Historical Society (London, 1848-49), 2, p. 41.

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such assemblies ceased after Curthose pawned his duchy to Rufus and departed for the crusade.44 Henry I differed dramatically from Rufus in his attitude toward ecclesiastical councils. Anselm presided over two great primatial councils during his six years in England under Henry I, the first of which, at Westminster at Michaelmas 1102, produced ecclesiastical legislation which Martin Brett describes as 'on a scale which not even the most impressive of Lanfranc's councils had achieved'.45 After Anselm's second reform council in 1108,46 there is a hiatus corresponding approximately to the Canterbury vacancy (1109-14) following Anselm's death and the pontificate of his successor, Archbishop Ralph d'Escures (1114-22). Ralph spent much of his pontificate in an unsuccessful struggle to obtain a profession of obedience from Thurstan, archbishop of York, in pursuit of which he joined the king's court in Normandy in 1116, scarcely a year after receiving the pallium. Remaining in the duchy for several years, Ralph suffered a crippling paralytic stroke from which he never fully recovered. Ill-health doubtless made it impossible for him to preside at a council on his return to England, just as it left him incapable of officiating at Henry I's wedding in 1121.47 Raymond Foreville has identified four general synods in Normandy under Henry I's rule — in 1106 at Lisieux, in 111848 at Rouen, in 1119 at Lisieux, and in 1128 at Rouen — to which should be added a fifth synod presided over by Archbishop William Bonne Ame at Rouen in 1108. In England, after Ralph d'Escures's death in 1122 and the elevation in 1123 of Archbishop William of Corbeil, the councils resume. William of Corbeil returned from Rome with his empowering pallium in mid 1123, and although the first general council of his pontificate was presided over by the papal legate John of Crema at Westminster in September 1125,49 much to Canterbury's chagrin, Archbishop William himself, with Henry I's backing, obtained from the pope an ex-officio legateship over Britain in 1126.50 He proceeded to convene general councils 44. Foreville, 'Synod of Rouen', p. 22. 45. Brett, English Church, p. 76; see also Councils and Synods, 1, part 2, pp. 668-88. 46. Ibid., pp. 694-704; I omit the council at Westminster in August 1107 that ratified the investiture settlement. 47. Orderic, Ecclesiastical History, 6, p. 318 and notes; Eadmer, Historia novorum, pp. 239—43, 248^9, 259; Willelmi Malmesbiriensis gesta pontificum, ed. N. E. S. A. Hamilton, RS, 52 (London, 1870), pp. 128-32. There is no evidence that Archbishop Ralph asked Henry for permission to hold a primatial council, and his itinerary and troubles make it unlikely that he did so. 48. Foreville, 'Synod of Rouen', p. 22; Orderic, Ecclesiastical History, 4, p. 264. I am not, however, entirely convinced that the council of 1106 can correctly be termed a synod; the synod at Rouen in 1119 may possibly have been diocesan rather than provincial, ibid., 6, p. 290. See, in general, David S. Spear, 'The Norman Episcopate under Henry I, King of England and Duke of Normandy (1106-1135)' (unpublished Ph.D. dissertation, University of California, Santa Barbara, 1982), pp. 145-60. 49. Councils and Synods, 1, part 2, pp. 725-27, 730-41. Archbishop William was probably deterred from summoning a council in 1123-25 by the fact that Henry was in Normandy and by Pope Calixtus IPs promise in 1123 to send a legate to England to settle the primacy issue. 50. Ibid., pp. 742-43 with references. See, in general, Denis Bethell, 'William of Corbeil and the Canterbury-York Dispute', Journal of Ecclesiastical History 19 (1968), pp. 145-59.

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at Westminster in 1127 and at London in 1129.51 A final council, at London in April 1132, was convened by papal order for the purpose of resolving the long-standing dispute between the Welsh bishoprics of Llandaff and St. Davids before a tribunal headed by all three Anglo-Norman archbishops: Canterbury, York and Rouen.52 Henry I, in short, reverted to his father's policy of collaborating with his archbishops in convening a series of general councils of both the English and Norman churches, and there is every reason to suppose that the English councils during his reign would have been even more numerous had it not been for archbishop Ralph's long absence and paralytic stroke. Rufus, then, is the aberration.53 With respect to the governance and reform of the English church, Henry I's policies were substantially more supportive than those of his predecessor. The centrepiece of the argument that Henry I's ecclesiastical policy was Rufus's writ large turns on the issue of how the two kings handled vacant bishoprics and abbeys — the issue of regalian right. Anselm, Eadmer, the Anglo-Saxon chronicler, the Winchester annalist and other contemporaries castigated Rufus for permitting churches to lay vacant for excessive periods of time and despoiling them of their wealth,54 whereas under Henry I such criticism ceased. It is nevertheless clear that royal appropriation of the revenues of vacant bishoprics and abbeys also occurred under William the Conqueror, Henry I and their successors. Margaret Howell, in her comprehensive study of regalian right published in 1962, concluded that 'the difference between the practice of William I and that of William II in respect to vacant sees and abbeys was the difference of use and abuse'.55 She points out, however, that despite the chorus of contemporary complaints of Rufus despoiling churches, he can be shown to have treated two of them gently. In a writ of 1095 or 1096, he commanded that the prior and monks of the vacant bishopric of Worcester should have unchallenged possession of the property appropriated for their maintenance.56 And a Durham chronicler reports that during the vacancy of 1096-99, although Rufus appropriated £300 annually from the see, he took nothing from the monks but, on the contrary, was generous and beneficent toward them.57 From an analysis of the pipe roll of 1130, Howell finds that 51. Councils and Synods, 1, part 2, pp. 743-54. 52. Ibid., pp. 757-61; other ecclesiastical business appears to have been transacted at this council as well. See Brett, English Church, p. 80 for a possible additional English ecclesiastical council in 1102-3 or 1107-8. 53. See Barlow, William Rufus, p. 373. 54. Eadmer, Histona novorum, pp. 49—50; S. Anselmi . . . opera omnia, ep. 206; Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, s. a. 1100; 'Annales de Wintonia', in Annales monastici, ed. H. R. Luard, RS, 36 (London, 1864-69), 2, p. 39; and Orderic, Ecclesiastical History, 5, p. 202. 55. Margaret Howell, Regalian Right in Medieval England (London, 1962), p. 12. 56. Ibid., p. 16; The Cartulary of Worcester Cathedral Priory (Register I), ed. H. W. C. Davis, Pipe Roll Society (1968), no. 5. 57. Howell, Regalian Right, p. 16; Symeon of Durham: Historical Works, 2 vols., ed. Thomas Arnold, RS, 75 (London, 1882-85), 1, p. 135.

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Henry I's regime was making a much tidier profit from the two initial years of the subsequent Durham vacancy of 1128-33: The profligate Rufus', she concludes ironically, 'had taken £300 a year from the bishopric of Durham during the previous vacancy, the Lion of Justice reaped a clear profit of over £1200 from the regular issues of this vacancy in two years'.58 This Worcester and Durham evidence must, however, be interpreted with great caution. The Worcester writ is probably concurrent with a brief truce in the otherwise stormy relations between Rufus and Anselm — lasting from May 1095 into the early months of 1097 — during the course of which Rufus entrusted Anselm with the defence of south-eastern England during the Mowbray rebellion. Anselm also at this time contributed personally to Rufus's great fund-raising effort for the pawning of Normandy that enabled Duke Robert Curthose to join the First Crusade.59 It was a period during which Rufus was on his best behaviour.60 The gentle treatment of Durham, on the other hand, is probably to be explained by the likelihood that Ranulf Flambard, who administered the vacant see along with many other bishoprics and abbeys, knew that Rufus intended him to be its next bishop. If so, he had good reason to desist from plundering the see he was himself to assume in 1099. Apart from these two instances, the evidence against Rufus and Flambard is damning. I shall draw now from a recently published paper on the subject by Lauren Jared.61 On the death of Paul abbot of St. Albans in 1093, a St. Albans writer reports that Rufus 'held the monastery in his hands and mercilessly impoverished it by levelling the groves and by extorting money from the men of St. Albans'.62 At Abingdon, vacant from February 1097 to the end of the reign, the house chronicler reports that Rufus put the abbey into the hands of a certain Modbert, who managed affairs 'not for the advancement of the church but for the wealth of the royal purse'; he lavished church property on his kinsmen and friends to such a degree that of eighty ploughs only eighteen remained, and of eighty monks only thirty-two survived.63 Not until Henry 58. Howell, Regalian Right, p. 29; from Pipe Roll 31 Henry I, ed. Joseph Hunter (rev. ed., London, 1929), pp. 130-33; cf. p. 140 for traces of royal revenues from the bishoprics of Hereford and Coventry and the abbey of Chertsey. 59. Barlow, William Rufus, pp. 343-73; Vaughn, Anselm of Bee, pp. 191-95. The Worcester vacancy, by which the writ can be dated, ran from 19/20 January 1095 to 8 June 1096. 60. Rufus appointed the Bee monk Henry, abbot of Battle in June 1096 and a monk of Lessay, Richard d'Aubigny, abbot of St. Albans in 1097. Anselm's close ties to Bee, Lessay, and St. Albans, Orderic, Ecclesiastical History, c. 37, suggest that he was consulted. The truce period also witnessed the rilling of vacancies, without evidence of simony, at Hereford, Worcester (as above) and probably Winchcombe. 61. Lauren Helm Jared, 'English Ecclesiastical Vacancies during the Reigns of William II and Henry I', Journal of Ecclesiastical History, 42 (1991), pp. 362-93. Jared is at present working on her doctorate at U.C. Santa Barbara. 62. Gesta abhatum monasterii S. Albani, 3 vols. ed. H. T. Riley, RS, 28 (London, 1867-69), 1, p. 65; cf. 5. Anselmi . . . opera omnia, ep. 203, where Anselm alludes to the tribulations of the St. Albans monks. 63. Chronicon monasterii de Abingdon, 2 vols., ed. Joseph Stevenson, RS, 2 (London, 1858), 2, pp. 42, 285; David Knowles, The Monastic Order in England (2nd ed., Cambridge, 1966), p. 180.

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I filled the vacancy in 1100 with the learned monk Faritius did the abbey begin growing again.64 Orderic, in describing Rufus's policy of allowing the monks of vacant houses barely enough for food and clothing, diverting the rest into the royal coffers, singles out Bury St. Edmunds (vacant after December 1097) and Ely (vacant after 1093) as victims of these policies.65 Similarly, Anselm, writing to Paschal II in 1099 or 1100, states that when he left England in 1097 the king seized his entire archbishopric and converted it to his own use, 'allowing only for the bare food and clothing of our monks'.66 And speaking more generally, the Winchester annalist reports that by 1097 Ranulf Flambard held sixteen bishoprics and abbeys 'in extreme poverty'.67 Eadmer describes the earlier Canterbury vacancy (1089-93) in terrifying detail, asserting that Rufus auctioned the custody of the archbishopric to the highest bidder year after year, putting the monks on the slenderest of rations, permitting tax collectors to barge into the precincts of the monastery and intimidate the monks, driving many of them away, and granting out lands as fees for the king's knights.68 Eadmer adds that the king inflicted similar suffering on vacant churches throughout England,69 and although recent historians have been sceptical of this testimony, it is corroborated, as we have seen, not only by the general complaints of other observers but also by independent accounts relating specifically to Abingdon, St. Albans, Ely, Bury St. Edmunds and Canterbury during its subsequent vacancy. The monastic writers who bear witness to these practices are not conspiring to slander the reputation of a high-spirited king; they are not inventing abuses; they are in a state of shock. Even at Durham, where Rufus's hand lay gently, it was observed that 'his conduct toward other monasteries was ferocious'.70 Although Henry I continued the Anglo-Norman royal policy of appropriating episcopal and abbatial lands during vacancies, the chorus of complaints 64. Chronicon monasterii de Abingdon, 2, p. 285. 65. Orderic, Ecclesiastical History, 5, p. 202; Liber Eliensis, ed. E. O. Blake, Royal Historical Society (London, 1962), pp. 218-19, 223, 234; Howell, Regalian Right, pp. 14-15, qualifies Orderic by pointing out that the separation of conventual property may not yet have occurred at Ely or Bury St. Edmunds. Cf. Southern, Medieval Humanism, p. 190. 66. S. Anselmi . . . opera omnia, ep. 210; cf., William of Malmesbury, Gesta pontificum, P- 9 7 67. Annales monastici, 2, p. 39. Southern, Medieval Humanism, pp. 191-92, regards this statement as quite plausible. He adds that although Flambard's practices were not unprecedented, 'it was the stripping away of all pretence, and the naked search for profit, that shocked contemporaries'. 68. Eadmer, Historia novorum, pp. 26, 39-40. 69. Ibid., pp. 26-27. 70. Symeon of Durham, Opera omnia, 2 vols., ed. T. Arnold, RS, 75 (London, 1882-85), 1, p. 128: 'in alia monasteria et ecclesias ferocius ageret . . .', in reference to the vacancy created by William of Saint-Calais's exile in 1088-91 during which Rufus's administration was also mild — except for the unfortunate necessity of sending a royal army against Bishop William in 1088 which 'laid waste the land of the bishopric with fire and pillage'. See also, ibid., p. 176, and the entry for 1092 in the Winchester Annals, p. 37, following a notice of Ranulf Flambard's taking custody of the bishopric of Lincoln and Chertsey Abbey: Traedictus vero Radulphus vir quo in malo nemo subtihor, ecclesias sibi commissas exploiavit bonis omnibus, et divites simul et pauperes ad tantam deduxit inopiam, ut mallent mori quam sub ejus vivere dominatu'.

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of abusive practices suddenly hushed at the new king's accession; complaints are rarely heard thereafter. Indeed, there is much to suggest that Henry made a conscious effort to protect vacant churches. At Battle, during the vacancy of 1102-7 (doubtless lengthened by the investiture impasse), the king's administrator, a monk of Saint-Calais named Geoffrey, won the hearts of the community. As the Battle chronicler reports, 'Under his care, the storerooms were soon restocked with supplies, the rights of the church and the honour of the brothers revived, and the prosperity of the estates renewed'.71 At Geoffrey's death, the king entrusted the abbey to Gunter abbot of Thorney, who deputised his nephew Ralph to care for the Battle monks; when they complained about him he was removed, the monks being permitted to manage their own affairs until a new abbot was appointed at the Westminster council of 1107.72 Lest this evidence seem tainted on the grounds that Battle was a royal Eigenkloster which Rufus himself had handled with care, let us return to Abingdon. There, during the vacancy following the death of Abbot Faritius in 1117, the royal custodian Warenger, in striking contrast to Rufus's Modbert, is portrayed in the Abingdon Chronicle as a servant of God full of true affection: 'as a most bounteous mother, he always nurtured us sincerely'.73 Eadmer attests to similar royal circumspection in his account of the Canterbury vacancy resulting from Anselm's exile of 1103-6: Henry confiscated the archiepiscopal revenues but entrusted their collection to two of archbishop Anselm's own men, 'with the pious intention, as may reasonably be believed, that they would take greater pains than others would to see that their lord's men and possessions were not vexed, oppressed, or laid waste, for everyone knew that they had been bound to him by a special tie of fealty and by solemn oath'.74 Since Eadmer expresses no complaint regarding the landed revenues reserved for the Christchurch monks, Henry is unlikely to have touched them. Again, during the five-year Canterbury vacancy following Anselm's death in 1109, Henry appropriated the archiepiscopal revenues but permitted the monks to retain their own revenues which they used in part for the beautification of their church. Resisting the urging of evil counsellors, Henry is quoted by Eadmer as insisting that these monastic revenues be devoted to 'the increase and glory of God's house . . . so that in my time, my mother church should

71. The Chronicle of Battle Abbey, ed. Eleanor Searle, Oxford Medieval Texts (Oxford, 1980), p. 108. For the chronicler's less enthusiastic notice of a vacancy under Rufus, ibid., pp.100-2. 72. Ibid., p. 116. 73. Chronicon monasterii de Abingdon, 2, p. 159. 74. Eadmer, Historia novorum, p. 159. Eadmer hints that the two custodians did not altogether fulfil this hope, but he provides no details. 5. Anselmi . . . opera omnia, ep. 293, from Anselm in exile to Gundulf, bishop of Rochester, implies that the Canterbury monks retained their lands but that Henry I was attempting to tax them. Ibid., ep. 331, Anselm to Ernulf prior of Canterbury (1104), further indicates that the monks continued to hold their lands and revenue, and ep. 349 (early 1105) refers again to the money which the Canterbury monks were forced to pay to the king — presumably to support his oncoming campaign to conquer Normandy.

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grow rather than suffer detriment'.75 Whether these are Henry's words or Eadmer's invention, they testify to royal policy toward monastic lands as perceived by a well-placed contemporary monk who had ascribed, from first-hand observation, a drastically harsher policy to William Rufus. Let us reexamine now the evidence bearing on the two Durham vacancies — under Rufus in 1096-99 and under Henry I in 1128-33 — which has been taken as proof that, despite all narrative evidence to the contrary, Henry squeezed harder than Rufus.76 An analysis of the pipe roll evidence for the first two years of the 1128-33 vacancy — although some questions regarding revenue sources remain unanswered and doubtless unanswerable — makes it clear that the bishopric was worth some £750 or £800 a year to Henry I, as against Rufus's £300. But these figures must be viewed in the context of the intervening twenty-nine year pontificate of one of the great fundraising masters of the age, Ranulf Flambard himself. It seems probable that the revenues accounted for by Henry I's collector at Durham, including an episcopal farm divided into two parts and totaling about £650 a year, resulted not from their own initiative but from Flambard's — that they were simply taking over a pre-existing revenue machine constructed in the course of his long pontificate.77 This probability in corroborated by a passage in the Historia Dunelmensis reporting that Bishop Ranulf, who had supported Robert Curthose's invasion of England in 1101 and had subsequently been restored to his see, thereafter sought persistently but vainly to win King Henry's full favour through lavish gifts. Consequently, the Durham writer continues, Ranulf's hand 'lay heavily on the see, demanding from it many immoderate sums of money with which to buy the good will of the king and his familiares',78 At Flambard's death in 1128, the Durham writer reports simply that the bishopric was entrusted to two local barons 'that they might collect the taxes due to the king'.79 The monks left no recorded complaints of their treatment during the vacancy. Indeed, at that very moment they were making architectural history, building the majestic vaulting of the Durham Cathedral nave, with its great transverse pointed arches and vault ribs that evoke our awe even now and, as art historians have often told us, point the way toward Gothic. By the end of the vacancy, the Durham writer proudly 75. Eadmer, Historia novorum, p. 221. 76. Howell, Regalian Right, p. 29; Mason, 'William Rufus', p. 15. 77. On the revenues, see Howell, Regalian Right, pp. 25-29 and Barlow, William Rufm, p. 237. Note in particular the opening sections of the Durham account in Pipe Roll 31 Henry I, 128 (cancelled) and 130, where the chief collector, Geoffrey Escolland, renders account of £82 18s. 6d. of the remainder of the farm from Bishop Ranulf's time. Ranulf died on 5 September 1128, and the figure, which is slightly over 20 per cent of Geoffrey's portions of the farms of Michaelmas 1128-29 and 1129-30 (£429), must have included revenues owed to the bishop during the closing months of his life. What extent of the 1127-28 Michaelmas year the £82 18s. 6d. 'remainder' covered is not disclosed, but there is nothing to indicate that the farm was raised at Michaelmas 1128. See further H. G. Richardson and G. O. Sayles, The Governance of Mediaeval England from the Conquest to Magna Carta (Edinburgh, 1963), pp. 225-26. 78. Symeon of Durham, Opera omnia, 2, pp. 138-39. 79. Ibid., 1, p. 141.

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informs us, the vaulting was completed.80 The monks can hardly have been impoverished by Henry's agents. Margaret Howell has made the valuable suggestion that Henry Fs promise in his coronation charter, repeated at the investiture settlement at Bee in 1106, to neither lease nor sell nor take anything from the demesnes or benefices of vacant churches, did not constitute a repudiation of regalian right but merely of its abuse.81 William the Conqueror seems to have taken the issues of vacant churches in both Normandy and England, and the custom appears to extend even farther back into pre-Conquest Normandy and Carolingian Francia.82 It was not the purpose of Henry's coronation charter to relinquish ancestral customs but to renounce recent abuses, and his promise to Anselm at Bee is described explicitly as the renunciation of Rufus's policy of letting churches out at rent, 'which had never been done before'.83 The evidence suggests that Henry did not, in fact, pursue a policy of letting churches out at rent, or making them the objects of bidding wars, or alienating their property through sale or forced enfeoffment, or intimidating or impoverishing their monks. The examples reviewed in this paper suggest a policy whereby Henry's custodians appropriate abbatial revenues of vacant churches and render strict account of these revenues at the exchequer. The custodians do not appear to have been notoriously ruthless, and some of them were well loved by the monks, who themselves were left in charge of their own allotted lands. I have avoided so far the issue of average lengths of vacancies under Rufus and Henry I because the two reigns differ so sharply in duration and circumstances. Barlow has pointed out that the episcopal vacancies over which Henry I had control averaged eighteen months, whereas Rufus's episcopal vacancies averaged just over two years, dropping to just over one year 'if we subtract the three longest vacancies . . . .'84 These figures, however, can be altogether misleading, as Barlow himself warns us. They apply only to bishoprics, whereas Rufus's policies clearly weighed more heavily on abbeys.85 The Anglo-Saxon

80. Ibid., 1, pp. 139, 141. Ranulf carried the walls of the nave up to the roof; the monks devoting themselves during the vacancy to the further building of the nave and finished it: 'Eo tempore navis ecclesiae Dunelmensis monachis operi instantibus peracta est'. It is on the basis of this passage that architectural historians are able to provide a tight date-range to the building of the Durham nave vaults: e.g., Jean Bony, French Gothic Architecture of the 12th and 13th Centuries (Berkeley, 1983), p. 10, 'the central space of the nave . . . is known to have been vaulted between 1128 and 1133'. 81. Howell, Regalian Right, pp. 20-24, concluding with the statement: 'It is certain that Henry I continued to exercise a claim to the issued of vacant sees and abbeys; it seems a likely hypothesis that he never renounced it'. 82. Ibid., pp. 7-11. 83. Eadmer, Historia novorum, p. 183. 84. Barlow, English Church, pp. 67-68, 77. I make it fifteen months for episcopal vacancies between 1107 and 1135, dropping to seven and a half months if we subtract the longest vacancy (Canterbury, 1109-14). 85. Barlow, William Rufus, pp. 182-85: 'he gradually allowed the monasteries to become acephalous . . .', at p. 184.

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chronicler grieved that Rufus, at the time of his death, held three bishoprics and eleven abbeys;86 since these remarkably numerous vacancies were filled as a consequence not of Rufus's volition but of his death, the statistic for average lengths of vacancies during his reign is rather meaningless as a gauge of royal policy. Perhaps when Rufus died he had been on the point of filling the vacant sees of Salisbury and Winchester, and of recalling Anselm to Canterbury, but there is no hint of any such intention in the surviving evidence.87 The condition of the English church at Rufus's death becomes particularly striking when one considers the vacant sees and abbeys in the order of their wealth and then applies to them the classification scheme developed by Dr. W.J. Corbett for categorising the annual incomes of Domesday magnates.88 The two 'Class A' bishoprics, Canterbury and Winchester, with revenues in excess of £750 a year, were both in the king's hands. Moving down, and excluding bishoprics in which no vacancy occurred during the reign, one of the two Class B sees (over £400), Salisbury, was also vacant; the other, Lincoln, was occupied by the former chancellor, Bishop Robert Bloet. The record improves as one descends to Class C (£200-£400) and Class D (£100-£200), with Worcester, Norwich, Bath, Hereford, Durham and Chichester all occupied by appointees of Rufus. His apparent preference for wealthy churches extended to abbeys as well. Of the six abbeys of Class A and B — Glastonbury, Ely, Bury St. Edmunds, St. Augustine's Westminster, and Abingdon — all were in the 86. Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, s.a. 1100; Malmesbury makes it three bishoprics and twelve abbeys, William of Malmesbury, Gesta regum Anglorum, 2 vols., ed. William Stubbs, RS, 90 (London, 1887-89), 2, p. 380. The bishoprics were Canterbury, Winchester and Salisbury; the figures on vacant abbeys cannot be confirmed because of the patchiness of the surviving evidence on abbatial successions at all but the wealthiest houses. Among those definitely or probably vacant in 1100 are Glastonbury, Ely, Bury St. Edmonds, St. Augustine's Canterbury, Abingdon, New Minster Winchester, Peterborough and Chertsey. The editors of Councils and Synods, 2, part 2, p. 653 and n. 2, suggest rounding out the list with Milton, Mulchelney and Cerne, in each of which the evidence on abbatial tenures is ambiguous. That the scandal of Rufus's exploitation of churches was not limited to English observers is made clear by Hugh of Flavigny's description of the legatine commission that Urban II sent in 1096 to warn Rufus 'about the many illicit things that were done by him. i.e., about the bishoprics and abbeys that he held in his hands, for which he had provided no pastor and in which he had assumed to himself the rents and revenues; about simony; and about the fornication of clerics', MGH: SS, 8, p. 474. 87. Barlow, English Church, p. 71, suggests that Anselm's absence prevented Rufus from filling Canterbury suffragan sees and obliged him to appoint Flambard to Durham, in the province of York, rather than to Winchester. There is no evidence, however, that Rufus ever intended Winchester for Ranulf, or that deference to the exiled Anselm prevented Rufus from filling sees in the province of Canterbury. Henry I's effort in 1102, when at loggerheads with Anselm, to have Gerard, archbishop of York consecrate bishops-elect of Hereford, Winchester, and Salisbury seems narrowly to have missed success when the bishops-elect declined consecration; it is most unlikely that, with Anselm abroad and Rufus in firm control, Flambard would have renounced the golden opportunity of enthronement at Winchester had he been offered it, Eadmer, Historia novorum, pp. 145-46. In 1091, during the Canterbury vacancy following Lanfranc's death, Rufus appointed Ralph Luffa to Chichester and Herbert Losinga to Norwich, and both were consecrated by Thomas, archbishop of York. 88. Cambridge Medieval History, 5, (Cambridge, 1926) pp. 508-11. My figures for the wealth of Domesday bishoprics are drawn primarily from Brett, English Church, p. 103, n. 1, with Hereford calculated at £280, Durham at £300 (as above) and York at £235 but almost certainly under-reported, ibid., p. 72, n. 1.

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king's hands in 1100, save Westminster where abbot Gilbert Crispin had been ruling since the Conqueror's reign, thereby denying Rufus his opportunity.89 Indeed, of the eight English abbeys with Domesday values exceeding £300 a year, all but two were in the king's hands in 1100 — the aforementioned Westminster, and Ramsey, to which Rufus had appointed Aldwin in 1091. The king's motive in making this one exception is made clear by Aldwin's subsequent deposition for simony at Anselm's council of 1102, along with Guy, abbot of Pershore and Wimund abbot of Tavistock, both of whom also appear to have bought their prelacies from Rufus.90 This interesting configuration of vacancies and simoniacal abbots at the close of Rufus's nominations, Anselm to Canterbury and Robert Bloet to Lincoln, were made concurrently in March 1093 when Rufus lay at death's door and was desperate to make amends with his Almighty Lord.91 On recovering, Rufus repudiated his various deathbed benefactions, but he was stuck with having received nothing in return. Henry of Huntingdon states that Rufus 'ached that he had not sold the bishopric of Lincoln', and adds that in the following year he made good his loss by charging Robert Bloet £5,000 for a favorable royal decision against claims on the diocese of Lincoln by the archbishop of York — a pay-off that Henry of Huntingdon describes explicitly as simony.92 If the sum was indeed £5,000, it was the equivalent of the bishop of Lincoln's entire annual Domesday revenues over a period of approximately eight years. Rufus had rather less luck with Anselm, from whom he tried unsuccessfully to wring £2,000, allegedly toward the expenses of a Norman expedition, a few weeks after Anselm's archiepiscopal enthronement.93 There is unequivocal evidence of simony in Rufus's appointments of Ranulf Flambard to Durham, Herbert Losinga to Norwich, and Herbert's father Robert to New Minster, Winchester.94 In a breathtaking act of alienation the king sold the vacant and 89. Figures are from Knowles, Monastic Order, pp. 702-3. That St. Augustine's Canterbury (£635), which fell vacant in 1093, remained so until after Rufus's death is strongly suggested by Eadmer, Historia novorum, pp. 188-91, where the abbot-elect, Hugh, is described in 1107 as a monk of Bee. If, as seems most likely, Anselm recommended Hugh for the office, he is unlikely to have done so before Rufus's death. See David Knowles, C. N. L. Brooke and Vera London, eds. Heads of Religious Houses: England and Wales, 940-1216 (Cambridge, 1972), p. 36. 90. Eadmer, Historia novorum, p. 142: Wimund of Tavistock clearly took office under Rufus, for which see Heads of Religious Houses, p. 72, and it is unlikely that Guy of Pereshore, who is described as a consecrated abbot in 1102, could have arranged to be consecrated after Anselm's return in September 1100, when he prohibited the consecration of invested abbots. 91. Eadmer, Historia novorum, pp. 30-37; Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, s.a. 1093. 92. Henry of Huntingdon, Historia Anglorum, pp. 216-17, where Henry, a loyal archdeacon of the diocese of Lincoln, ascribes the sin of simony to Rufus, not Robert Bloet. The Winchester annalist, 'Annales de Wintonia', p. 37, tells the same story but reduces the charge to 3,000 marks. 93. Eadmer, Historia novorum, pp. 143-45. Anselm, rather surprisingly, offered £500 which Rufus rejected as insufficient. Anselm correctly saw the transaction as being tainted with simony, S. Anselmi . . . opera omnia, ep. 176. In the later twelfth century, Canterbury scutages were running £80 or less, Red Book of the Exchequer, 3 vols., ed. Huber E. Hall (London, 1896), 1, pp. 22, 49. 94. 5. Anselmi . . . opera omnia, ep. 214; Malmesbury, Gesta pontificum, p. 274; see ibid., p. 151, which reports that Herbert: Losinga paid Rufus 1,000 marks for the bishopric of Norwich and the abbey of New Minster.

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previously independent abbey of Bath, with its buildings, estates and monks, to John de Villula, bishop of Wells, who made it his new episcopal headquarters; in 1092, in consequence of the king's harassments, Odo, abbot of Chertsey resigned and his abbey passed into Flambard's hands, where it remained until Rufus's death.95 The king permitted Thurstan abbot of Glastonbury, who had been banished to Normandy by the Conqueror for perpetrating a scandalous riot, to return to England on the payment of £500, although the hostility of the Glastonbury monks prevented him from actually resuming his abbatial office.96 In virtually all of Rufus's transactions with his wealthier bishoprics and abbeys, the determining factor was money — whether the predictable annual issues of vacated prelacies or the larger, one-time pay-off of simoniacal purchase. William of Malmesbury observes that this royal exploitation began in earnest only after Lanfranc's death in 1089, and that it then grew progressively more severe during the remaining years of the reign.97 The Anglo-Saxon chronicler draws a clear parallel between Rufus's policies of simony and the exploitation of ecclesiastical vacancies, viewing them as two sides of a single golden coin: 'He kept down God's church, and all the bishoprics and abbacies whose incumbents died in his days he sold for money or kept in his own hands and let out for rent'.98 We know from independent evidence that of the eight bishoprics of Corbett's classes A-C vacated since Lanfranc's death, six were either vacant or held by known simoniacs in 1100 — including all four in classes A and B" — and of the eleven class A-C abbeys in which vacancies occurred, eight were vacant in 1100 and a ninth is known to have been purchased; these 95. Malmesbury, Gesta regum, 2, p. 387; Gesta pontificum, p. 194; 'Annales de Wintonia', p. 37; Abbot Odo resumed his office in 1100 after Rufus's death, ibid., p. 40. 96. Malmesbury, Gesta pontificum, p. 197; De antiquitate Glastonie ecclesie, ed. John Scott (Woodbridge, 1981), pp. 156-58. Barlow, William Rufus, p. 180, observes, more generally, that simony was probably blatant in Rufus's reign. 97. Malmesbury, Gesta regum, 2, pp. 367, 368-69. 98. Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, s.a. 1100; similarly, Malmesbury, Gesta regum, 2, p. 369: 'sacri ecclesiarum honores, mortuis pastoribus, venum locati; namque audita morte cujulibet episcopi vel abbatis, confestim clericus regis eo mittebatur, qui omnia inventa scripto exciperet, omnesque in posterum redditus fisco regio inferret. Interea quaerebatur quis in loco defuncti idoneus substitueretur, non pro morum sed pro nummorum experimento; dabaturque tandem honor, ut ita dicam, nudus, magno tamen emptus'. 99. Canterbury (£1,860 including the lands reserved for the monks but appropriated by Rufus in 1097, for which see above, n. 66) vacant; Winchester (£920), vacant; Lincoln (£660), simony (although Henry of Huntingdon blames the simony on Rufus, not Robert Bloet, for which above, n. 92); Salisbury (£580), vacant; Exeter (£460), Osborn: 1072-1103; London (£440 plus London), Maurice: 1085-1107; Worcester (£390), Samson: 1096-1112, no evidence of simony, for which see above, n. 60; Norwich (£360), Herbert: 1091-1119, simony; Wells (£285), John: 1088-1122, appointed under Lanfranc, relocates see at Bath; Hereford (£280?), Gerard: 1096 — Dec. 1100, no evidence of simony, for which see above, n. 60; York (£235 plus), Thomas I: 1070 — Nov. 11--; Rochester (£220), Gundulf: 1077-1108; Durham (£205 in Domesday Book, £300 in 1096-99), Ranulf: 1099-1128, simony. Of the two bishoprics below class C, Chichester (£142), with Ralph Luffa, 1091-1123, appears unexceptionable, and Chester (£95) had no vacancy during Rufus's reign. I have omitted from consideration the lands reserved by the bishop of Winchester for his monks (£600) because, despite Orderic's implication that Flambard seized them in 1098, 5, p. 202, there is no direct evidence to this effect.

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nine abbeys included the eight wealthiest.100 There is also evidence of three and perhaps four additional abbots having bought their offices from Rufus.101 We can by no means be confident that all such transactions have left traces in our surviving sources. Otherwise expressed, taking the total Domesday values of all class A-C bishoprics and abbeys, including those that did not fall vacant under Rufus, 60 per cent of the wealth of all English churches worth £200 per year or more was in the royal hands in 1100; this figure breaks down to 48 per cent of the episcopal lands (or £3,360) and 75 per cent of the monastic lands (or £4,245).102 If one adds the class A-C bishoprics and abbeys whose prelates are known to have paid Rufus large sums of money in connection with their elevations, the figures rise to 67 per cent of episcopal lands, 81 per cent of monastic lands, and 73 per cent of all such lands. And because our evidence on instances of simony may well be incomplete, these figures must be regarded as minima. Finally, if one excludes churches in which no vacancies had occurred since Lanfranc's death — that is, if one considers only those which Rufus had an opportunity to confiscate — 73 per cent of their lands were in royal custody at the time of his final hunt, and another 16 per cent were in the hands of known simoniacs, making an overall total of 89 per cent of the landed wealth of England's more substantial churches falling into Rufus's possession that he had, in the Anglo-Saxon chronicler's words, 'sold for money or kept in his own hands'. As our statistics make clear, statements such as this cannot be dismissed as monkish malice or savage caricatures. They are directly on target. There is an evident connection between Rufus's systematic policy of leasing or selling churches and his adamant refusal to permit a general church council. Such a council would not only have brought to a head, as Barlow points out, the diametrically opposed views of Anselm and Rufus's circle on the practice of sodomy,103 but also, and more to the point of this essay, it would have provided a legislative body and high tribunal to condemn simony and the royal exploitation of vacant churches.104 Given the nature of Rufus's ecclesiastical policy, a council was out of the question. The series of church councils during the following reign bears witness to an overall redirection of royal policy. 100. Glastonbury (£827), vacant; Ely (£769), vacant; Bury St. Edmunds (£640), vacant; St Augustine's Canterbury (£635), probably vacant, for which see above, n. 89; Westminster (£584), Gilbert Crispin: 1085(?}-1117; Abingdon (£462), vacant; New Minster, Winchester (£390), vacant; Ramsey (£358), Aldwin: 1091-1102, 1107-12, simony; Peterborough (£323), probably vacant; St. Albans (£270), Richard d'Aubigny: 1097-1119, no simony, for which see above, n. 60; Battle (£212), Henry: 1096-1102, no simony, for which see above, n. 60; Chertsey (£199), vacant. 101. Robert Losinga, New Minster, Winchester: post 1088-98; Wimund, Tavistock: 10961102; Guy, Pershore: deposed 1102, reinstated, for which see above, n. 90; and perhaps Hamo of Cerne, for whom see Heads of Religious Houses, p. 37. 102. If one adds the two remaining bishoprics (of class D and E), the percentage of episcopal lands in royal custody descends from 48 per cent to 46.5 per cent. 103. Barlow, William Rufus, p. 373. 104. The leasing of churches was evidently no longer a problem at the time of Anselm's primatial council of 1102, but simony and sodomy were both condemned and, as we have seen, several simoniacs were deposed, Councils and Synods, 1, part 2, pp. 668-88.

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With the accession of Henry I, the systematic exploitation of churches ceased. Henry promised at his coronation, 'because the kingdom has been opposed by unjust exactions', neither to lease, despoil or sell churches,105 and he immediately set about to fill the vacancies. He restored Canterbury to Anselm and Chertsey to Odo, and he nominated prelates to Winchester, Abingdon, Ely, Bury St. Edmunds and New Minster Winchester, all by the end of 1100. Glastonbury and Peterborough acquired prelates in 1101, Salisbury in 1102. The effects of this policy of restoration were fully realised only after mid 1107, when the resolution of his impasse with Anselm over investiture and consecration resulted in a torrent of episcopal and abbatial consecrations — 'so many', the Anglo-Saxon chronicler marvels, 'that nobody could remember that so many had ever been given together before'.106 I do not intend to argue the case for Henry I's canonization. He, too, could squeeze the church, especially at times when he was involved in war on the Continent. In 1105-6 Anselm accused him, justly I suspect, of twisting the clerical celibacy rulings of the council of 1102 to his own fiscal advantage by collecting fines from offending clergy to fill the war chest for his campaign to conquer Normandy.107 A similar accusation was made with respect to Archbishop William's council of 1129 by Henry of Huntingdon, a married, hereditary archdeacon whose comments on canonical censures of married clergy are always testy and not altogether reliable.108 The Anglo-Saxon chronicler complains of severe taxes in the years when Henry was engaged in warfare on the Continent: 1103-5,1116-18,1124, and also in 1110 when Henry took an aid of three shillings from every hide for his daughter's marriage to the emperor.109 One also encounters allegations of simony, but they are rare: Martin Brett was able to find only two concrete instances of it throughout the thirty-fiveyear reign, and he regards neither reference as entirely credible.110 There remains the tirade against Henry's ecclesiastical policies attributed by the Gesta Stephani to 'the chief leaders of the church' at King Stephen's council of spring 1136, including the charge that 'he had shut or opened the door of the church more commonly with the key of Simon than with that of Peter'.111 The absence of earlier complaints, as Brett suggests, 'may possibly have been dictated by 105. English Historical Documents, 2, ed. David C. Douglas and George W. Greenaway (2nd ed., London, 1981), p. 433; Howell, Regalian Right, pp. 20-24. 106. Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, s.a. 1107. 107. S. Anselmi . . . opera omnia, ep. 391-94; Eadmer, Histona novorum, pp. 171-77; and above, n. 17. Eadmer alludes to further severe taxation of churches in the interval between the Norman campaigns of 1105 and 1106. 108. Henry of Huntingdon, Historia Anglorum, pp. 250-51; cf., Nancy F. Partner, Serious Entertainments: The Writing of History in Twelfth-Century England (Chicago, 1977), pp. 41-47. 109. Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, in the indicated years, and Henry of Huntingdon, Historia Anglorum, p. 237. The normal danegeld rate was two shillings on the hide. 110. Brett, English Church, p. 105. 111. Gesta Stephani, ed. K. R. Potter and R. H. C. Davis, Oxford Medieval Texts (rev. ed., Oxford, 1976), pp. 24-26. The probable author, Robert, bishop of Bath, a protege of Henry, bishop of Winchester, was consecrated at exactly this time.

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prudence'.112 On the other hand, the churchmen's accusation, which seems curiously self-incriminating, bears the mark of rhetorical exaggeration intended to elicit from Stephen his charter of liberties for the church: 'The king listened patiently, freely granted them their requests, and gave orders that the freedom of the church should be firm and inviolable . . . and he would have kept his word had it not been that perverse counsellors . . . and actual imperious need . . . urged him to break these promises'.113 Among Stephen's promises was his renunciation of regalian right: the administration and revenues of vacant churches were henceforth to remain with the churches themselves.114 This concession, as Margaret Howell observes, constituted a significant break from royal practice stretching back to the Norman Conquest and forward through the middle ages.113 Against these various, scattered charges against Henry I must be balanced his considerable patronage of the church: the pardoning of many prelates from danegeld and the murdrum fine, the founding of a number of religious houses, including the lavishly endowed Reading Abbey, the welcoming of the first Cistercian houses into England, and the establishment of two new English bishoprics — the last until the Reformation.116 With his full consent relations between England and the papacy, tenuous before 1100, had become extremely active by the close of his reign.117 At his death in Normandy in December 1135, the only major churches left vacant were London, whose bishop had died in 1134, and perhaps Hyde Abbey whose abbot died at some undisclosed date in 1135. At no point in Henry's reign did the scale of ecclesiastical sequestrations even remotely approach that of Rufus's final years. Only five of Henry's episcopal vacancies exceeded two years: Canterbury (1109-14), Durham (1128-33: the vaulting vacancy), Hereford (1127-31), and Chester-Coventry (1117-21 and, again, 1127- 29); there are no clear instances of long vacancies in any Norman sees. Of the greater abbeys, the one significant vacancy after the investiture settlement occurred at Bury St. Edmunds (1107-14); since the archbishop of Canterbury had the exclusive right to bless its abbots, the Bury vacancy simply mirrors the concurrent vacancy at Canterbury.118 112. Brett, English Church, p. 105. 113. Gesta Stephani, pp. 26-28. 114. H. A. Cronne and R. H. C. Davis, ed., Regesta regum Anglo-Normannorum, 3 (Oxford 1968), No. 271. 115. Howell, Regalian Right, pp. 21, 29-30; Stephen did in fact administer vacant churches, at least occasionally, and the practice was fully reinstated by Henry II and his successors. 116. On danegeld pardons see Pipe Roll 31 Henry I, passim; the new bishoprics were Ely (1109) and Carlisle (1133). Henry may also have been involved in the creation of the see of Whithorn, established in the mid 1120s under the patronage of his son-in-law, Fergus of Galloway, and assigned to the province of York, for which see Donald Nicholl, Thurstan Archbishop of York (1114-1140) (York, 1964), pp. 137-39 and Brett, English Church, pp. 24-25, with references. 117. Brett, English Church, pp. 34-62. 118. Eadmer, Historia novorum, pp. 185, 188, 226 and Vaughn, Anselm of Bee, pp. 329-32. There is no indication that Anselm, whose final years were marked by declining health and an absorbing struggle with York, made any effort to replace Abbot Robert II of Bury, who died on 16 September 1107.

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In contrast to the vacancies under Rufus, Henry's are not stacked at the top. Hereford, Durham and Chester rank in the bottom half of Domesday bishoprics with respect to wealth. Chester, which underwent two of the five long vacancies, was the poorest see in England.119 We are not observing here the systematic workings of a machine of fiscal exploitation throughout the kingdom. There were a variety of reasons for these vacancies, some having little to do with the king's exchequer. After his conquest of Normandy in 1106, Henry spent more years in the duchy than in England, and he appears to have usually refrained from appointing new bishops until he had consulted with men of the vacant see or abbey, or those with knowledge of local conditions. 'It was the king's practice', Brett observes, 'to make [episcopal] appointments at great councils, and these must have provided the opportunity for much private discussion'.120 Accordingly, when a see or royal abbey fell vacant while Henry was in Normandy, it normally remained unfilled until his return to England. An exception occurred early in 1125, when Henry, during a protracted stay in the duchy, circulated an edict throughout England commanding that all vacant churches should, 'in their own interests', send envoys to him across the Channel to receive pastors.121 The source of this information, the Battle Chronicle, goes on to describe Henry as consulting at his Norman court with William, archbishop of Canterbury and Battle's diocesan bishop of Chichester, then appointing as abbot of Battle a Canterbury monk 'excellent in modesty, wisdom, and learning'.122 The only long vacancy in a bishopric of the first rank, Canterbury between April 1109 and April 1114, coincided with a period of hostilities between Henry I and King Louis VI of France. Henry reported the outbreak of these hostilities to Anselm in a letter written just before the archbishop's death.123 The counts of Anjou and Flanders joined Louis VI in alliance against Henry, who crossed to Normandy in the summer of 1111 to defend it against the threat of invasion. After many months of conflict, he negotiated a peace with Louis and Fulk of Anjou early in 1113 and returned to England the following July. The Canterbury archiepiscopal revenues must have provided a useful contribution to Henry's military and diplomatic expenses, but he was probably also anxious not to add to his troubles by having to contend with a power struggle in the English church that any archiepiscopal nomination was likely to precipitate. William of Malmesbury accounts for Henry's action in rather general terms: when approached about filling the Canterbury vacancy, the king explained gently that

119. Brett, English Church, p. 105. 120. Ibid., p. 105. 121. Chronicle of Battle Abbey, pp. 132-34. Henry was probably anxious to avoid empty seats at Cardinal John of Crema's legatine council at Westminster later in the year. 122. Ibid., p. 134; cf., Regesta regum Anglo-Normannorum, 2, Charles Johnson and H. A. Cronne, ed. (Oxford, 1956), no. 1427. 123. S. Anselmi . . . opera omnia, ep. 461; C. W. Hollister, 'War and Diplomacy in the Anglo-Norman World: The Reign of Henry F, ANS 6 (1984), pp. 78-83.

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the archbishops whom his father and brother had provided had been the best of men, and that he did not want to make a choice inferior to those of his family; only with great scrutiny, therefore, should counsel be taken in order that he who is made archbishop shall follow and emulate his predecessors with equal virtue.124

Henry's hearers, Malmesbury continues, regarded his explanation as evident, just and fair. In reality it was not simply a matter of choosing the best man. The Christchurch community insisted that the new archbishop be a monk like his predecessors; the English episcopate wanted Henry to nominate a bishop or a royal chaplain.125 On his return to England, Henry sided at first with the monks and proposed the pious and learned Italian physician, Faritius, abbot of Abingdon; afterwards, bowing to episcopal pressure and obtaining the consent of the Christchurch monks, the king appointed, by way of compromise, Anselm's protege Ralph d'Escures, bishop of Rochester and former abbot of Seez who was translated to the archbishopric on 26 April 1114 to commence his luckless pontificate.126 At Ralph's own death on 20 October 1122, Henry was in England, his dominions were at peace, and the new archbishop of Canterbury, William of Corbeil, was elected within three-and-a-half months.127 Henry Fs relationship to the Anglo-Norman church was generally placid although by no means idyllic. His regime displays much the same sort of common or garden-variety corruption that one observes in other regimes of his generation and, regrettably, earlier and later ones as well. It was generally acknowledged, for example, that the prudent disbursal of silver and gold could accomplish wonders at the court of what we usually term the reform papacy.128 Much the same was doubtless true at the courts of the Norman and Angevin kings. But the testimony of chroniclers, borne out by our analysis of the record evidence, leaves it clear that William Rufus's system of methodical extortion of the church did not continue into Henry Fs reign. I shall not revive the discredited notion that William Rufus was a wicked king. It could well be argued that in his time the church was far wealthier than it ought to have been. If so, Rufus was doing all in his power to remedy 124. Malmesbury, Gesta pontificum, p. 125. 125. Ibid., pp. 125-26; Eadmer, Historia novorum, pp. 222-23; Chronicon de monasterii de Abingdon, 2, p. 287. 126. Cf. Hugh the Chantor, The History of the Church of York 1066-1127, ed. Charles Johnson, Nelson Medieval Texts (London, 1961), p. 24; Hugh makes the rather improbable allegation that just after Anselm's death the Canterbury monks granted Henry their permission to 'keep the archbishopric in his own hands for as long as he liked' if he would support their demand for a written profession of obedience from Thomas II of York. On King Henry's surprising acquiescence to the will of his bishops, see Brett, English Church, p. 73. 127. William of Corbeil was elected on 4 February 1123, on which occasion Henry left the choice entirely to his churchmen, ibid., pp. 73-74. 128. E.g., Eadmer, Historia novorum, pp. I l l , 133; Hugh of Flavigny, MGH: SS, 8, pp. 474-75.

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that situation. His policy toward the English abbeys resembled not so much Henry Fs as Henry VIIFs and from the ecclesiastical perspective Freeman's term, 'oppression', does seem appropriate.129 As for Henry I, to quote a more recent historian, he 'knew exactly how to handle the church'.

129. See above, n. 3; similarly, Southern, Medieval Humanism, p. 192.

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9

'The Whole World a Hermitage': Ascetic Renewal and the Crisis of Western Monasticism Derek Baker

In about 1042 Peter Damian, the greatest spiritual leader and writer of the eleventh century, composed the Life of his master Romuald of Ravenna (c. 950-1027). Romuald, he wrote, wished 'to turn the whole world into a hermitage, and to associate the whole multitude of people with the monastic order'.1 It is a comment which may be applied not only to Romuald but to his time. This was the age of the ascetic revival, of the crisis in traditional monastic life, which found itself at a perplexing crossroads, and of the proliferating hermits of the numerous new 'Egypts' of the West.2 It was the age which, in polemic if not in fact, was to see Cluny supplanted by the 'new monastery' of Citeaux, established in that 'locus horroris et vastae solitudinis' south of Dijon.3 The inspiration and stimulus for this complex and remarkable movement emanated, it has been asserted, from the eastern Roman world of Byzantium, mediated through those southern Italian provinces that remained under the rule of the Byzantine emperors, until the arrival of the Normans in the early eleventh century removed them from the jurisdiction of the east. There, in Calabria and elsewhere, the institutions of the orthodox church were in substantial evidence, exercising, it would seem, a decisive ascetic and eremitical influence upon the revival of the regular church in Italy, and elsewhere, and upon the character of that revival. Of St. Nilus (c. 910-1005),4 'a Calabrian by birth, familiar with the Greek Fathers and monastic saints, and

1. Vita, Beati Romualdi, ed. G. Tabacco, Fonti per la Storia d'Italia, 94 (Rome, 1957): 'totum mundum in eremum convertere, et monachico ordini omnem populi multitudinem sociare'. For extended discussion, in a series of papers and comments delivered at the second international study week (30 August to 6 September, 1962) at La Mendola, of western eremiticism see L'Eremitismo in occidente nei secoli XI e XII, in Miscellanea del Centra di Studi Medioevali 4, ed. C. Violante and C. D. Fonseca (Universita Cattolica del Sacro Cuore, Milan, 1965). 2. See, for example, the comments of Orderic Vitalis, Historia Ecclesiastica, ed. and trans. Marjorie Chibnall, Oxford Medieval Texts, 6 vols. (Oxford, 1968-80); 4 (1973), book 8, c. 2, p. 317, on the association of hermits in the Norman and Breton Forests. 3. The phrase, derived from Leviticus, is a topos for the description of Cistercian foundations. As at Citeaux itself, it rarely describes the actual foundation site accurately. 4. For Nilus see Acta Sanctorum Bollandiana (Brussels and elsewhere, 1643- ), September 7, pp. 262ff.

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himself of austere life', David Knowles, writing in 1940 in The Monastic Order in England, remarked: He was only one of the many disseminators of Greek traditions at the time, for the Turkish invasion of Asia Minor sent large numbers of refugee bishops and monks to Europe, who settled in north Italy and southern France, especially near Dijon and Lyons, and even penetrated to England.5

Almost thirty years later Knowles's tone was significantly different — 'the fore-runners of this movement may well have been the Greek monks of south Italy, refugees from the Saracen invasions, or those driven out of Asia Minor, but the leaders and their programmes were Italian',6 referring particularly to Romuald, John Gualbert and Peter Damian. Despite this shift in emphasis, however, and Henrietta Leyser's assertion in her 1960s thesis, published in 1983, that 'to search for Greek influences is in any case to miss the point',7 the operation of these influences remains a matter of considerable if spasmodic debate. The substantial 1963 study by Bernard Hamilton and Patricia McNulty, 'Orientate lumen et magistra latinitas': Greek Influences on Western Monasticism, 900-1100, concludes: As the eleventh century drew to a close, the Latin world was outwardly dominated by magistra latinitas but it was undoubtedly permeated by the orientate lumen which had been brought to the west chiefly by Greek monastic settlers in the last two hundred years . . . . This awareness was an important contributory factor in the formation of the new climate of religious opinion in the Latin church which found expression in the spiritual centres of Camaldoli, Citeaux and the Chartreuse in the eleventh and early twelfth centuries.8

More recently, in a paper given at the 1984 Byzantine Symposium, and published in 1988, Marilyn Dunn has returned to the question from a different point of view, in a wide-ranging and perceptive study.9 Her judicious review of, and comments upon, a variety of evidence (particularly the Grandmontine corpus)10 supplies the best, albeit brief, summary statement to date. It is not, however, simply a matter of establishing in particular instances the operation, or non-operation, of these alleged influences in documented studies of Nilus, Romuald, Damian or Stephen of Muret (d. 1125), to whose Life we owe the most detailed and circumstantial account of direct Byzantine influence 5. David Knowles, The Monastic Order in England (Cambridge, 1940; 2nd ed. 1963), p. 192-93. 6. David Knowles and Dimitri Obolensky, The Christian Centuries, 2, The Middle Ages (London, 1969), p. 185. 7. Henrietta Leyser, Hermits and the New Monasticism (London, 1984), p. 25. 8. In Le millenaire de Mont Athos, 963-1963, 1 (Chevetogne, 1963), pp. 181-216, at p. 216. 9. Marilyn Dunn, 'Eastern Influence on Western Monasticism in the Eleventh and Twelfth Centuries', Byzantium and the West, c. 850 to c. 1200 (Amsterdam, 1988), pp. 245-59, at 246-47. 10. Ibid., pp. 247-53.

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on subsequent western developments. Such inquiry and validation, while necessary, is only preliminary to the discussion of much broader questions that are seldom addressed with any degree of thoroughness or coherence. Even in Knowles's magisterial book with its style and clarity there is a confusion both of metaphorical development — the tides of his analogy are more complex even than those of Mont-Saint-Michel — and of categorisation of events.11 The problem is partly one of terminology and approach. How are we to understand 'ascetic', 'hermit', 'solitary', 'desert' or even 'monk' in this period? How did contemporaries understand and use these terms? Is it possible, or even desirable, to attempt to impose definition? Are we justified in attempting, as Knowles unconvincingly does, to distinguish 'movements' or phases in all this turbulence?12 These are substantial questions which require considerable examination, but beyond them remains the fundamental question implicit in Leyser's unpursued expostulation — 'what is arresting about the eremitical movement is its eruption in different times and in different places, [and] the impossibility on the whole of finding links and prototypes'.13 It is with an awareness of this question, though not its examination, that Dunn concludes her recent study: By the eleventh century, in any case, the west had no need of such dubious sources of inspiration. Western society embarked on a period of social, economic and intellectual ferment, the church attempted to reform itself. It is to these processes and to western monastic tradition that we should look when seeking to explain the rise of the new houses and orders of the period.14

The ascetic renewal of these years is in fact one element in the general flux of western society at large. Any study which begins its enquiry, as it must, with particular individuals, events, texts and ideas, and with the nature of the crises and continuities to which they relate, must end in the recognition of those fundamental societal shifts upon which these incidents and accidents depend, and in the attempt to delineate and characterise them. Without this endeavour men like Romuald, Damian and Stephen of Muret, and concepts like those of Morin and Leclercq, however perceptively presented, remain detached from reality, as purposefully directionless as Romuald himself. 'One cannot help seeing', wrote Jean Leclercq in the course of his discussion of medieval spirituality, 'that monasticism in its traditional Benedictine form, however thriving, austere and beneficent it may have been, no longer satisfied the ascetic aspirations of countless generous souls'.15 The judgement is striking 11. Knowles, Monastic Order, pp. 191, 192. 12. Ibid., p. 192. 13. Leyser, Hermits, p. 25. 14. Dunn, 'Eastern Influence', p. 259. 15. Jean Leclercq, 'The Monastic Crisis in the Eleventh Century', Cluniac Monasticism in the Central Middle Ages, ed. N. Hunt (London, 1971), p. 219. Compare the Benedictine Rule, where in chapter 1 Benedict remarks 'Deinde secundum genus anachoritarum, id est heremitarum'. In the course of discussion in the 1962 La Mendola conference (L'Eremitismo, (continued)

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because it does not relate, as might be supposed, to the later ninth-century years of decline, when 'the influence of lay abbots . . . made for an asceticism which was in a sense humane, not to say comfortable, and [which] gradually opened the door for laxity and decadence',16 but to the optimism and achievement of the later tenth century. In this qualified assessment of the widespread but, it would seem, superficial and socially-unrelated monastic achievement of the age of Cluny, there are apocalyptic indications of that crisis in the regular life which he has so strongly delineated elsewhere — a crisis as necessary as it was inevitable if the principles and practices of established Benedictinism were to be brought back into relationship to the enhanced ascetic and spiritual aspirations of Leclercq's 'countless generous souls', and to their service. Yet there is a nagging and uncomfortable paradox in his view. If, as few would deny, the spiritual life of the West was strikingly revitalised and diversified in the tenth and eleventh centuries, then men like Odo, Aymer, Maieul and Odilo of Cluny, Dunstan, Ethelwold and Oswald in England, played no small part in that process, and were surely justified in seeing themselves in the direct line of that 'coenobitarum fortissimum genus' for whom Benedict had legislated,17 which had been so strikingly reconstituted in their time, and which was to demonstrate its spiritual vitality and social importance at Dijon and Molesme, in Normandy and in the Anglo-Norman world more widely and generally. If these, however, were achievements which Benedict himself would have had no difficulty in recognising and acknowledging, it is as well to be clear that for contemporary society as a whole this revived Benedictinism was for the most part exemplary rather than participatory. These were, in a real and significant sense, the monastic centuries — as the role of monks in the structures of the secular church and in the counsels of government make plain — but laymen in general could enter into such a life only through the artificial assimilation of a Gerald of Aurillac as portrayed by Odo of Cluny,18 or by the relaxation of Benedictine injunctions, as in the pre-Cluniac age, to the point where the life ceased to be Benedictine in any realistic sense. Further, the emphasis on the revival of Benedictine standards worked to limit the opportunities open to laymen to participate in the regular life, however much houses like Cluny integrated themselves into contemporary society, limiting led to exclusion. Such exclusion, however, was not the result of decadence, of atrophying tradition, of the weight of accumulated custom, or of cloister-centred closed minds, but of success and pride in the new achievements made in the name of an old ideal. It must be doubted, too, whether those actually excluded were in fact those 'countless (continued)

pp. 210ff) Jean Leclercq posed the question, 'What is a hermit?' and suggested — simply — 'anyone not a monk'. 16. Jean Leclercq, The Spirituality of the Middle Ages (London, 1968), p. 83. 17. The Rule of Saint Benedict, c. 1. 18. See Derek Baker, 'Vir Dei: Secular Sanctity in the Tenth Century', Studies in Church History, 8, ed. D. Baker (Oxford, 1971), pp. 41-54 and the references there given.

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generous souls' of high ascetic aspiration, rather than the rank and file of secular society whose consciences and commitments were better salved by the comfortable rituals of a customary social observance than the demands of a rigorous asceticism. As the careers of men like Bruno of the Chartreuse, Lanfranc, Stephen Harding, Bernard of Tiron, and the whole history of the community at Molesme demonstrate, there was ample opportunity within, and by derivation from, traditional Benedictine monasticism for the satisfaction of the more pronounced ascetic impulses of the eleventh and twelfth centuries. In many respects the complexity of new and more individual initiatives in these years demonstrate rather than deny the vigour and potentiality of a traditional Benedictine life which, in Benedict's own words, had seen the hermits and ascetics as that small elite which issued from the training of the cloister fully-armed for the solitary combat of the desert. The perception of this essential continuity is distorted, inevitably, by the much-remarked proliferation of individual and collective ascetic, eremitical, preaching and apocalyptic, unorthodox, extra-establishment — sometimes anti-establishment — responses to the spiritual needs of the time; responses which, it has been argued, indicate a crisis in the regular life, which could only be resolved by what amounted to a revolution productive of, in particular, the so-called 'new orders'. Just how new these new orders were is open to question; contemporaries showed little inclination wholly to redirect their patronage in conformity with the polemical claims of monastic apologetic. The continued association of St. Bernard's own family with Molesme is significant and cautionary in any attempt to polarise social and ecclesiastical attitudes in this period.19 Indeed, it would be better to view the changes in monastic formulation and practice, and the spectacular increase in the number of regulars, in the context of a significant growth in population in this period, of climatic change, in the expansion of settlement upon both the internal and external frontiers of western Christendom, and of substantial and sustained economic growth: ascetics, like hippies, flourish in a successful materialist society where there are the resources and surpluses to sustain and indulge them. For all their prominence, few amongst the leaders of this new asceticism were other than traditional in their backgrounds and training, or elitist in their actions.20 A Gervase of Louth Park might lament the transformation of his desired solitudes into the great houses of English Cistercianism,21 but it was not only the external pressures of patrons and society at large which effected these changes. Men like Stephen Harding and Ailred of Rievaulx were as accomplished in secular affairs as in the spiritual world where they achieved such eminence. It is time 19. See Derek Baker, 'Crossroads and Crises in the Religious Life of the Later Eleventh Century', Studies in Church History, 16, ed. Derek Baker (Oxford, 1979), pp. 137-48, at pp.145-46. 20. Idem, 'Reform as Protest: The Evidence of Western Eremitical Movements', in The Church in a Changing Society (CIHEC/University of Uppsala, 1978), pp. 55-62. See also the comments of Jean Bequet and Charles Dereine, L'eremitismo, pp. 187-88, 203. 21. See Baker, 'Reform as Protest', pp. 61-62.

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to see Robert of Molesme through other than Cistercian glasses — not as the ineffectual leader of the exodus to the 'new monastery' of Citeaux, but as the highly effective head of the eremitically based new community of Molesme, which he had founded some thirty years earlier.22 The huge size of communities such as Rievaulx under Ailred or Clairvaux under Bernard is striking; but, in an age of rapid increase in population, it is not directly indicative of any greater commitment proportionately to the spiritual needs of the secular populace generally. Further, as with the reinvigoration of traditional Benedictinism at Cluny and elsewhere, so too the pronouncedly ascetic movements of the eleventh century served to reinforce the division between the spiritual elite of the cloister and the mass of the Christian populace, who were excluded even by men so individually extreme in their asceticism as Romuald and Damian, except perhaps as conversi. Damian might indeed declare that the hermit's life was the most perfect way to follow Christ for 'all souls of good will', but his characterisation of that life, and his implicit definition of 'good will', and of the exceptional qualities it implied, placed the life of Fonte Avellana far beyond the capabilities of most of his contemporaries in an Italy notorious for spiritual degradation rather than eminent for exemplary piety. The corruption and degradation of the early eleventh-century Italian church is well-known and widely recognised. From the worldly, politically involved Lombard episcopate to the Parmese priest Teuzolinus, immortalised by Damian, the whole gamut of clerical inadequacy and unworthiness was spanned. Farfa, before its final reformation, was notorious; 23 simony, nicolaitism, clerical immorality and secular involvement were widespread, receiving their most comprehensive indictment in Damian's Liber Gomorrbianus (1049).24 Yet these were the years when the influence of newer Byzantine or Graeco-Italian forms of asceticism and spirituality was, it is sometimes alleged, beginning to be felt in the West, and when men like Romuald and Damian were reshaping the conventions and standards of contemporary regular life. Romuald is best known through Damian's Vita Beati Romualdi, written in c. 1042.25 Damian, though in some sense Romuald's most famous spiritual son, never knew his predecessor, and valuable though his account is, it is clear that in many respects Romuald is being viewed as a proto-Damian. A contemporary assessment of Romuald, however, is to be found in Bruno of Querfurt's Vitae Quinque Fratrum where Romuald,26 primus nostrorum temporum27 and [pater] rationabilium heremitarum qui cum lege vivunt^ 22. See Baker, 'Crossroads and Crises', pp. 143-46 and 'Reform as Protest', pp. 56-57. 23. On Farfa, see P. Schmitz, Histoire de I'ordre de Saint Benoit — origines, diffusion et constitution jusqu'au XHe siecle, 1 (Maredsous/Gembloux, 1942), pp. 168-69. 24. See below, p. 214. 25. For Damian's Life see Vita Beati Romualdi, ed. G. Tabacco, Fonti per la storia d'ltalia, 94 (Rome, 1957). See also Colin Phipps, 'Romuald — Model Hermit: Eremitical Theory in Saint Peter Damian's Vita Beati Romualdi, chapters 16-27', in Monks, Hermits and the Ascetic Tradition, ed. W. Shiels, Studies in Church History, 22 (Oxford, 1985), pp. 65-77. 26. See Vitae quinque fratrum, ed. R. Kade, MGH: SS, 15.2 (Hanover, 1988), pp. 709-38. 27. Vita quinque fratrum, p. 718. 28. Ibid.

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appears incidentally as the instructor and inspiration of Benedict and John, with whom Bruno was primarily concerned. The son of 'Duke' Sergius, and a member of an illustrious and rich Ravennese family, Romuald had renounced the world to enter the abbey of S. Apollinare in Classe at just about the time that it was reformed by Abbot Maieul of Cluny in c. 970.29 Three years later he departed, embarking upon that spasmodically itinerant, austere and eremitical life which, with minor interruptions, was to occupy the rest of his life, and to be the basis of his reputation, contemporary and subsequent. In his austerities, in his decision to seek martyrdom in Hungary in 1009,30 in his dislike of, and incapacity for, sustained organisation and responsibility, his instability and lack of consistent purpose, he can be considered the type of that ascetic multitude that appears in northern forests and waste lands later in the century. Yet if, in Bruno's phrase, he can be considered as the father of 'reasonable' hermits it is a symbolic rather than a practical paternity, as St. Antony's is for monks in general. Romuald cannot be considered an organised, legislating reformer; and though attempts have been made to integrate and interrelate his activities,31 Tabacco's assessment of him — as a man who failed to compromise with the world, and whereby his foundations such as Camaldoli become simply the result of successive experiments in pursuit of his 'eremitical vision' — appears more true to life.32 Yet for Damian this vir contemplator is a significant and central figure. Without Damian's witness Romuald would be a shadowy figure indeed; so, it is pertinent to enquire further into this attachment. Damian was born in Ravenna in 1007, and died as cardinal-bishop of Ostia in 1072, the circumstances of his life being too well-known to require more than the barest of summaries here. Allegations of early poverty, maltreatment by his sister and his enforced role as pig-keeper, may be treated with some reservation. His family was well enough connected to achieve advancement in the church of Ravenna at a time when simple merit was unlikely to have ensured promotion. The means existed to give Damian the best education available locally and, it would seem, to enable him to pursue it until he abruptly abandoned the world in 1035 at the age of twenty-eight.33 There is no clear indication where this 29. S. Appollinare in Classe was reformed by Maieul of Cluny in 971, see Schmitz, Histoire de I'ordre de Saint Benoit, 1, p. 170. Damian's claim that Romuald was born in 907 must be discounted. His likely date of birth is c. 950. For Romuald's family see the references given in A. Pagnani, La vita di San Romualdo (Sassoferrato, 1927), p. 8. 30. He was apparently inhibited in his aim by illness. 31. See, for example, Knowles and Obolensky, Christian Centuries, 2, pp. 185, 256; Knowles, Monastic Order, p. 75; F. Kempf, in Handbook of Church History, 2, ed. H. Jedin and J. Dolan (London, 1969), p. 330; B. Hamilton, 'St. Pierre Damien et les mouvements monastiques de son temps', Studi Gregoriani 10 (Rome, 1975), p. 178; G. Tabacco, 'Romualdo di Ravenna e gli inizi dell' eremitismo Camaldolese', L'Eremitismo, pp. 73, 119. 32. Though it must be said that Tabacco's overall assessment does not differ radically from that of other commentators. 33. See R. Biron, St. Pierre Damien, 1007-1072 (Paris, 1908); O. J. Blum, St. Peter Damian: His Teaching on the Spiritual Life (Washington, DC, 1947); Jean Leclercq, Saint Pierre Damien, ermite et homme d'eglise, Edizioni di storia e litteratura (Rome, 1960) Uomini e Dottrine 8. He was educated first at Faenza and then at Parma. Damian's brother became archpriest at Ravenna.

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extended education was intended to lead but, significantly, his close study of scripture is associated with enforced convalescence early in his career at Fonte Avellana; a conventional career within the secular church of his time seems most likely. Of his intellectual merits there can be no doubt, and he quickly established a reputation as an imposing and accomplished speaker and teacher. His advancement was rapid. By 1044 he was prior of Fonte Avellana, his predecessor's apparently unopposed nominee.34 A year later he was writing to Pope Gregory VI demanding the deposition of three local bishops.35 Leo IX received the Liber Gomorrhianus from him in 1049, the first year of his pontificate, with the Liber gratissimus arriving three years later, the latter opposing the views expressed by Leo IX and Cardinal Humbert at the lenten synod of 1051 on the subject of the validity of ordinations by simoniacal bishops, and demonstrating Damian's self-confidence in such august company. Under Stephen IX (1057-58) Damian became cardinal-bishop of Ostia, the primus inter pares amongst the cardinals, and for the remainder of his life he was active above all as papal legate on a series of important missions.36 For all this, Damian remained in his letters 'Petrus peccator monachus', and his celebrated comment on Romuald, that he wished to turn the whole world into a hermitage,37 has an equal application to his own life and policies, though, unlike Romuald, he was an organiser. According to Leclercq, 'getting things organised meant consulting the rule of St. Benedict . . . it [was] the code which his hermits were to consult in all cases where their own observance was compatible with it'.38 If Damian in fact 'instituted a new and original form of monasticism', it was still 'a new Benedictine tradition, differentiated from that of the past by its eremitic trend'.39 Though the emphasis may vary in detail from writer to writer, Leclercq represents a consensus on Damian which places him within Benedictinism. Such conscription, however, is not wholly convincing. The Rule was for beginners, and if Damian commended it to his brethren it was a carefully qualified commendation. He wrote that 'every brother . . . should recognise his own capacities and adapt for his own use not all the indulgence which the Rule permits, but only so much as is necessary to him . . . . it is not wrong to take advantage of relaxation, but it is not good to do so'.40 In his celebrated phrase, 'he who has decided to content himself with the Rule of the blessed Benedict alone has confined himself to the narrow territory of Mount Ephraim'.41 Even if it is asserted 34. Fonte Avellana suited his ascetic tastes better than the traditional Benedictine house he initially entered. On this stage in his career see Leclercq, Damien, pp. 21-37. 35. In c. 1045. The bishops were those of Castello, Fano and Pesaro. 36. Milan (1059), Florence (1063), Cluny (1063), Germany (1069), Ravenna (1072). Blum, St. Peter Damian, pp. 201-3, points out that during these years of activity on behalf of the reformed papacy Damian's literary output doubled. 37. Vita Beati Romualdi, c. 37. 38. Leclercq, 'Monastic Crisis', pp. 225-26. 39. Ibid. 40. Selected Writings on the Spiritual Life, trans. P. McNulty (London, 1959), p. 96, in particular On the Perfection of Monks, c. 7. 41. McNulty, Spiritual Life, p. 87, esp. On the Perfection of Monks, c. 3.

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that Benedict himself expected the monastic elite to go on to higher things, Damian's readiness to admit laymen directly to the eremitical life is not simply in opposition to Benedict's intention, it also expresses a distrust of cenobitic training. He suggests the reason that many monasteries are so lax is that the monks which they produce are more perverse than those who want to be saved from this ship-wrecked world.42 For Damian, hermits, not cenobites, constitute the fortissimum genus, and the hermitage is 'the tent of the holy army, the battlefield of the victorious host, the arena of spiritual strife, the angels' amphitheatre'.43 He continued, 'The hermit's cell is the meeting place of God and man, a crossroads for those who dwell in the flesh and heavenly things, for there the citizens of heaven hold intercourse with men'.44 It is there where monks 'guard the altar of bronze, [hermits] already enter the Holy of Holies'.45 The claims and comparisons are stark and unequivocal, not the least remarkable aspect of Damian's view being that such a vocation should be directly accessible to the layman whose devotion is 'sincere and genuine'.46 Here, it might seem, is a clear response to popular spiritual needs; a direct route to salvation, reflecting Damian's expressed concern with the 'determined many' rather than the 'perfect few'. Whatever this concern, and for all the formal rhetorical passion with which it is expressed, Damian's sincerity is not to be doubted, such a generalised compassion does not easily accord with his attitudes or his actions. 'Sinner monk' he may proclaim himself, but there is little evident humility or penitence to be discerned in him. His early success as a speaker and teacher, the seeming inevitability of his rise to authority that in its exercise seems to have posed few problems and inspired no self-questioning, the assurance displayed in his disagreement with Leo IX and Humbert in 1052, the superiority implied in his disapproval of the later political intrigues of Leo IX, and his panache as a legate all display an aggressive positivism close to arrogance. He may seem to encourage spiritual initiative and the pressing back of the frontiers of individual asceticism, but these experiments are bounded and controlled by the utter certainty of his own Tightness. This, it seems to me, is the essential point of contact between him and Romuald. The older Ravennese, however diffuse his life or nebulous his achievements may appear, was a dominant charismatic figure. His strength is evident in the stories of Otto Ill's recourse to him, being implicit in his unrestricted access to the imperial court. An instinctive authority is evident not only in the disciples who gathered around him wherever he was, but in his influence over Benedict and John; in his direction of the prestigious party which departed to Cuxa in 988 ;47 and in his master Marino's abdication 42. PL, vol. 145, col. 361D. Compare Tratres itaque in monasteria immobiliter permanentes tolerandi sunt', Epistles, book 6, ep. 12, in PL, vol. 144, col. 392B. 43. McNulty, Spiritual Life, pp. 75-76; and esp. Liber Domintts vobiscum, c. 19. 44. Ibid., p. 76, and esp. ibid., c. 19. 45. PL, vol. 144, col. 392B. 46. PL, vol. 145, col. 361D. 47. See Vita Beati Petri Urseoli, in Acta Sanctorum Ordinis Benedicti, 5, ed. J. Mabillon (Venice, 1734).

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from his role as Romuald's director, and his enrolment under his protege.48 Like Damian, if his way of life was calculated to appeal to those for whom traditional forms of the spiritual life were unobtainable, or to whom they were abhorrent. His standards of authority were such that in practice he ministered to the spiritual welfare of an elite rather than answering the aspirations of more ordinary people. Above all, his career affords glimpses of a similar unregarding certainty: his return to Ravenna after ten years at Cuxa was occasioned, so Damian alleges, by the intention of his father Sergius to abandon the religious life which he had apparently adopted. It was Romuald who dissuaded him: 'he tied his feet tightly to a beam, bound him with heavy chains, thrashed him with heavy blows, and continued to afflict him with such pious severity until, with God's help, he brought him back to the way of salvation'.49 With both these men it is tempting to relate the complexity of their practice and their principles to the variety of influences that had played upon them, which may include the decadence and failings of the church in Italy in their time, the degradation of the papacy, the turbulence endemic in secular society that was exacerbated by the revival of urban life and the intermittent exercise of imperial authority, and their experience of traditional Benedictine monasticism both unreformed and in its Cluniac guise as practised at S. Apollinare. Above all, it is inviting to isolate the trace elements of hypothetical Byzantine practice and principle which may have tempered their spiritual steel: but hypothetical such a connection must remain. There is no firm evidence for it: the existence of a Byzantine church in the south, the visits of St. Nilus to Cassino and Rome, and his foundation of Grottaferrata, following the Basilian Rule, near the Eternal City cannot be used to declare or sustain any causal connection. At Cassino, on whose lands Nilus and sixty monks founded a community at Valleluce sometime before 984, his arrival was ceremonially celebrated; but though it occasioned sustained and amicable debate, it produced no accommodation between the two communities, nor between eastern and western attitudes to the monastic life. At the double house of S. Alessio in Rome, which Hamilton has argued achieved a synthesis of Latin and Greek practice, it is clear, as Dunn has emphasised, that what was actually achieved was 'an amicable symbiosis'.50 There remains the single, most important body of evidence for the influence of eastern practices upon the western church, and one that declares a direct connection between Byzantine example and what Knowles called the 'savage' asceticism of Grandmont in the Limousin. Of all those prominent in the revival of western asceticism, none is more comprehensively recorded than Stephen of Muret (d. 1125), the posthumous founder of the Order of Grandmont. Not 48. Vita Beati Romualdi, c. 6, at p. 26. 49. Ibid., c. 13, at pp. 35-36: '. . . patrem ad seculum reverti volentem reperiens, in ligno pedes eius fortiter strinxit, gravibus eum vinculis alligavit, verberibus duris afflixit et tamdiu corpus eius pia severitate perdonnit, dones eius mentem ad salutis statum Deo medente reduxit'. 50. Dunn, 'Eastern Influence', p. 256.

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only is there a late twelfth-century Life, based upon an earlier text designed to assist in Stephen's canonisation (which was finally achieved in 1189), but a Liber de doctrina, 'a mixture of Stephen's table-talk and sermons supposedly composed from the memories of one of his disciples',51 and 'a pseudepigraphic Rule'.52 The study of these documents, and of Grandmont in general, was transformed by the work of Dom Becquet of the abbey of Liguge in the decade from 1953-63. His succession of studies and articles culminated in 1968 in his edition of the Scriptores ordinis Grandimontensis.5* The story told by the Life is engaging and circumstantial. As a young boy Stephen was orphaned while on a visit to the relics of St. Nicholas at Bari with his father, an Auvergnac lord. Stephen himself became ill and was adopted into the household of the French archbishop of Benevento, Milo, where he spent twelve years. Through Milo he became aware of a group of exemplary Calabrian hermits and, inspired by their example, he sought and subsequently obtained papal permission to found his own order, modelled after their example. Returning to France in 1076, he established himself in eremitical solitude on the hill of Muret just outside the village of Ambazac near Limoges, and remained there until his death some fifty years later. It was this foundation, characterised by an excessive if picturesque asceticism, that after his death and on another site further up the valley subsequently became the mother house of the Order of Grandmont. This order was the object of substantial patronage by the ruling house of the county of Anjou, both before and after it had achieved the English crown.54 It is not difficult to make a plausible association through the Angevins between Stephen of Muret's initiative and the later eremitical enterprises of Bernard of Tiron, Robert of Arbrissel and Vitalis of Savigny in the marches of Brittany and Normandy.55 Toward the end of his life Stephen was visited by the cardinal-legates Gregory and Peter Leone, future opponents in the papal schism of 1130, who came to enquire into the origin and form of the life he followed in so desolate a place. 51. Ibid., p. 251. 52. Ibid. 53. Johannes Becquet, OSB, Scriptores Ordinis Grandimontensis, Corpus Christianorum Continuatio Medievalis, 8 (Turnhout, 1968). 54. E. Hallam, 'Henry II, Richard I and the Order of Grandmont', Journal of Medieval History 1 (1975), pp. 165-87. 55. See J. B. Mahn, L'Ordre Cistercien et son gouvernement, 2nd ed. (Paris, 1951), pp. 26-35. The association of Grandmont and Fontevrault with Tiron, Savigny and Citeaux in accounts of the new orders of the later eleventh and early twelfth centuries is usual, but must be treated with caution not only from a narrowly spiritual perspective but in the context of complex local developments within secular society. The recent work of Eleanor Searle and Cassandra Potts on the formation of Norman and Norman/Breton society, together with that of Bernard Bachrach on the Angevins, is important not simply for the gradual formation, and transformation, of secular society in these areas, but also for the ramifying consequences and connections of these developments for the church, not only in terms of local interactions and interrelationships (below, n. 71), but also in wider regional and national contexts, and for the subsequent, frequently apologetic or polemical presentation of these ecclesiastical developments. See Derek Baker, 'Fontevrault and Robert of Arbrissel', and 'How New were the New Orders?' both forthcoming.

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In his reply Stephen displayed an ability, uncommon for the time, clearly to differentiate between the various forms of religious life open to him — and to reject them all: As you can see we make no use of that monastic and canonical clothing about which you asked us: we can make no claim to such a title of sanctity. For the canonical institution which has in some measure the apostolic power of binding and loosing so far exceeds the monastic power that we would in no way dare to usurp that way of life. Such perfection is necessary for the rule of churches that we could never, or hardly ever, imitate such perfect rulers . . . in what way should we undertake the cure of others who are ourselves dead to the world, dead limbs, our feet no longer walking nor our mouths speaking. If we do not, nor cannot, look after ourselves how could we look after others as shepherds of the church. We do not use the name of monks because that is a holy name . . . and those who are called monks . . . devote themselves wholly to God. Nor are we able to imitate the life of hermits, which consists essentially in departure from the tumult of the world, and the maintenance of a life of prayer and silence in their cells.56

For Stephen's followers, in the powerful statement which opens the Liber de Doctrina, 'there is no other rule than the Gospel of Christ',57 the Regularum Regula, antecedent to all others, and from which they, as rivulets from a single source, derive.58 Much could be made of these comments about the vita evangelica generally, about the priority accorded to it by Stephen of Maret in relation to other more specific and structural rules of life, and, in particular, about its derivation from the Calabrian hermits admired both by Archbishop Milo and by Stephen himself. Here the priority accorded to the Rule of St. Basil, that rule of 'greater perfection' (maioris perfectionis), over the Rule of St. Benedict or St. Augustine might be thought to be significant. So it would be if any significant credibility attached to the body of writings associated with Stephen of Muret. This is far from the case. There have long been substantial doubts entertained about the account — rather the accounts — of Stephen of Muret embodied in the saint's Life.59 From the time of the Bollandists, its inconsistencies and inaccuracies have become increasingly apparent, despite an industry of reconciliation and rationalisation, provoking fundamental criticism even from within the Grandmontine Order itself. Paradoxically, the criticism of the Life has been accompanied by a process of concomitant, compensatory scholarship nowhere better exemplified 56. Becquet, Vita Stephani, c. 32, at pp. 121-22 in Scriptores Ordinis Grandimontensis; Vita Stephani Ampliata, cc. 32 and 34, at pp. 140—41, ibid. 57. Becquet, Liber de Doctrina, p. 5 line 5, in ibid.: 'non est alia regula nisi evangelium Christi'. 58. Becquet, Regula, prologue, p. 66, lines 38-47ff, in ibid. 59. Marilyn Dunn, 'Church and Society in the Eleventh and Twelfth Centuries: Eastern Influence on Western Monasticism — the Case of Stephen of Muret' (unpublished Ph.D thesis, University of Edinburgh, 1981). See also John Howe, 'Greek Influence on the Eleventh-Century Western Revival of Hermitism' (unpublished Ph.D. dissertation, University of California, Los Angeles, 1979).

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than in the case of the central figure of Archbishop Milo of Benevento. As the testimony of the Life itself for his career has been eroded, an elaborate alternative structure has been constructed from fragments of evidence at best tangential, at worst wholly speculative. It was the achievement of Becquet to rehabilitate the reputation of the Life of Stephen of Muret and to restore it to academic respectability through his studies, his discovery of new, variant and earlier manuscripts, and his rudimentary indication of a manuscript tradition and possible sequence of textual development. If he has palliated tender monastic sensibilities, however, he has not resolved the textual difficulties, as recent work has shown. In a remarkable study of church and society in the eleventh and twelfth centuries that focuses particularly on Stephen of Muret, completed in 1981 and as yet unpublished, Marilyn Dunn has reassessed the texts and the evidence. Working at first hand on the Italian evidence in Rome, Benevento and Monte Cassino, and on those Grandmontine texts to which she was permitted access at Limoges, she has replaced the dramatic fictions of the Life and its associated texts with the more limited, but more credible and instructive realities and probabilities of a Stephen of Muret localised in the Limousin — more akin to Pons de Leras, the notional founder of Sylvanes in the Languedoc, than even to Bernard of Tiron or Robert of Arbrissel.60 There is no longer any need to sustain the fantasies accumulated around Archbishop Milo of Benevento, Milo, dean of Paris, and the other Milos who have been found. The bleak eminence of Muret, the site of Stephen's first hermitage, may now be reduced to the wooded knoll outside Ambazac. It is no longer necessary to argue about the status of Stephen's father — in one later account (and only one account) the viscount of Thiers — nor to speculate about the date of his pilgrimage to the relics of St. Nicholas at Bari in company with his son, at least twenty years before the relics arrived there. There is no need, indeed, to postulate an Italian journey at all: it is much more likely that Stephen of Muret's association was not with Benevento in Italy, but with the nearby community of Benevent-PAbbaye.61 In consequence there is no justification for the continued maintenance of the claim that Calabrian hermits of an assumed Graeco-Italian character exercised a decisive influence on one of the most striking examples of western European ascetic spirituality. That the texts associated with Stephen of Muret are, essentially, fabrications 60. See Derek Baker, 'Popular Piety in the Lodevois in the Early Twelfth Century: The Case of Pons de Leras', Studies in Church History, 15, ed. Derek Baker (Oxford, 1978), pp. 39-47. The most recent account of Stephen of Muret is to be found in Carole Hutchison, The Hermit Monks of Grandmont, Cistercian Studies Series, 118 (Kalamazoo, MI, 1989). This is a useful study, particularly valuable for its discussion of Grandmontine architecture — the author's particular interest. The account given of Stephen of Muret, however, is wholly conventional and repetitive, alluding only in an additional footnote (p. 48) to doubts about the reliability of Stephen of Muret's Life. See Maire M. Wilkinson, 'The Vita Stephani Muretensis and the Early Life of Stephen of Muret', in Hallmark Studies in Ecclesiastical History, ed. Judith Loades (1990). As Dunn found before her in 1980, the largest collection of Grandmontine documents, in the Archives de la Haute Vienne, was 'regrettably . . . not available for consultation at present', p. 383. 61. It was around 1080 that the master of the cathedral school at Limoges reestablished an eremitical foundation at Benevent, on which see L'eremitismo, p. 188.

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there can be little doubt. They are the result of the need for the new community at Grandmont to acquire a sanctity and cult it did not otherwise possess. In their more elaborate form they were intended as evidence in the process for Stephen's canonisation, finally achieved in 1189, and they were in fact the products, as their authors and editors inform us, of a monastic community that was in danger of forgetting entirely about Stephen.62 This is not to dismiss and decry Stephen of Muret but to localise him; in so doing enriching and informing our perception of the remarkable events of his time. In the preface to her thesis, Dunn remarks that 'we are still in the process of determining the relationship of the changes in monasticism to the society, economy and spirituality of the period',63 and concludes that 'the earliest expression of Grandmontine spirituality [indicates] the relationship of the Order not to some remote [eastern] exemplar, but to the society and spirituality of France in the twelfth century'.64 That these relationships are complex and varied is evident not simply from the brief comments of this essay but from the wide-ranging debate of which it forms a small part. Certainly there was strong interest in the spirituality and asceticism of the eastern Mediterranean, but it was the east of the desert fathers not of Byzantium. Damian saw many Pauls and Antonies when he visited Cluny,65 and similar references and parallels abound in the literature of, and about, the new Orders and their founders. The proliferation of ascetic vocations, both static and itinerant, which stemmed from this interest is well attested and, as Romuald, Damian and Stephen of Muret demonstrate, there was a positive and proselytising passion for the eremitical life, although the conceptions of the nature and form of that life varied widely. This did not, however, force the exclusion of more traditional forms of monastic observance. Some leaders proclaimed the monastic vocation as one to which all men should, and could, aspire; and if the self-evaluated austerity and simplicity of the Cistercians caught the head-lines, and the admission of bodies of conversi opened the regular life to less traditional recruits, black monk communities also experienced spectacular growth in what is normally seen as an age of white monk supremacy. For all the polemic of the Cistercian exordia, Molesme was not eclipsed by Citeaux. This polemic and apologetic among and between secular clergy and regulars of whatever colour is mirrored more generally in the rhetoric of an age which was, as the letters of a Bernard of Clairvaux indicate, as militant in its spiritual relationships as its secular. All this, as I have argued elsewhere,66 does not constitute a crisis for 62. Dunn, 'Church and Society', pp. 162-75. Compare the hagiographical activity associated with Robert of Arbrissel, commissioned and directed by Abbess Petronilla of Fontevrault, above, n. 55. 63. Dunn, 'Church and Society', p. iii. 64. Ibid. 65. See Knowles, Monastic Order, pp. 195-96: 'veraciter ibi multos reperi Paulos, plurimos vidi Antonios'. 66. See Baker, 'Crossroads', passim. See also the recent substantial study by John Van Engen, 'The "Crisis of Cenobitism" Reconsidered: Benedictine Monasticism in the Years 1050-1150', (continued)

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and in the monastic and spiritual life. The old institutions were not played out and, for all the propaganda of a highly articulate age, they were not decisively superseded by the new initiatives, whose leaders were in fact what may be called 'establishment' figures — men who were trained in customary observance and tradition and, for all the strength and witness of their particular vocations, who created out of this tumult newer structures consonant with the old. Nor was western spirituality at a crossroads in the sense that it had lost direction and did not know where to turn. Rather, it was faced with a confusion of paths to choose from, all of which in their different ways led to enticing destinations — whether this was the new Jerusalem of Clairvaux,67 the Calabrian paradise of St. Bruno,68 or the dignity of Fontevrault. To suggest, as I would prefer, that what is evident here is change and phenomenal growth and not crisis, continuity with the past and not a necessary and inevitable cataclysm, to recognise that the crises and crossroads are the creations of historians, no more the decisive elements for their time and society (continued)

Speculum 61 (1986), pp. 269-304, while asserting that Benedictinism never underwent 'any sudden crisis or collapse', still accepts that by the end of the twelfth century it 'assumed a position ever less central to medieval religious life', at p. 304. 67. For example, St. Bernard's letter to Alexander, bishop of Lincoln, in Sancti Bernardi opera, ed. Jean Leclercq and H. Rochais, 8 vols. in 9 vols. (Editiones Cistercienses, Rome, 1957-77), 7, Epistolae 1 (1974), ep. 64, pp. 157-58: Viro honorabili domino Alexandro, Dei gratia Lincolniensi episcopo, Bernardus, abbas Claraevallis: velle honorari magis in Christo quam in saeculo. Philippus vester, volens proficisci lerosolymam, compendium viae invenit, et cito pervenit quo volebat. Transfretavit in brevi hoc mare magnum et spatiosum, et, prospere navigans, attigit iam litus optatum atque ad portum tandem salutis applicuit. Stantes sunt iam pedes eius in atriis Jerusalem, et quem audierat in Ephrata, invento in campis silvae libenter adorat in loco ubi steterunt pedes eius. Ingressus est sanctam civitatem, sortitus est cum illis hereditatem, quibus merito dicitur: IAM NON ESTIS HOSPITES ET AD VENAE, SED ESTIS GIVES SANCTORUM ET DOMESTICI DEI. Cum quibus intrans et exiens, tamquam unus e sanctis, gloriatur et ipse cum ceteris dicens: CONVERSATIO NOSTRA IN CAELIS EST. Factus est ergo non curiosus tantum spectator, sed devotus habitator et civis conscriptus Jerusalem, non autem terrenae huius, cui Arabiae mons Sina coniunctus est, quae servit cum filiis suis, sed liberae illius, quae est sursum mater nostra. Et si vultis scire, Claravallis est. Ipsa est Jerusalem, ei quae in caelis est, tota mentis devotione, et conversationis imitatione, et cognatione quadam spiritus sociata. Haec requies illius, sicut ipse promittit, in saeculum saeculi: elegit earn in habitationem sibi, quod apud earn sit, etsi nondum visio, certe exspectatio verae pacis, illius utique de qua dicitur: PAX DEI, QUAE EXSUPERAT OMNEM SENSUM. Verum hoc suum bonum, etsi desupe accepit, in vestro tamen beneplacito facere cupit, immo se fecisse confidit, sciens vos Sapientis non ignorare sententiam, quod films utique sapiens sit gloria patris. Rogat autem paternitatem vestram, rogamus et nos cum illo et pro illo, quatenus de praebenda sua quod ipse suis creditoribus constituit, immobiliter stare faciatis, ne in aliquo fraudator, quod absit, debiti, et praevaricator pacti inveniatur, et ita munus contriti cordis, quod offert quotidie, non recipiatur, dum frater quispiam habet aliquid adversus eum. Precatur deinde, ut domus quam ipse matri suae in terra ecclesiae construxit, cum terra quam ibi delegavit, eidem matri, quamdiu vixerit, concedatur. Haec pro Philippe . . .'. 68. See the letter of St. Bruno from Calabria to Ralf Green in A. Wilmart, 'Deux lettres concernant Raoul le Verd, 1'ami de Saint Bruno', RB 51 (1939), pp. 257-74, which is quoted and translated by R. W. Southern in The Making of the Middle Ages (London, 1953), pp. 174-75.

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than the contemporary feudal revolution so dramatically, but unconvincingly, proclaimed by Duby,69 is still to supply only a partial and unsatisfactory answer to the fundamental questions with which we need to concern ourselves in trying to assess the nature of what were, from any viewpoint, dramatic and far-reaching developments. Not least it must be recognised that, as is so often the case, this whole discussion has concerned itself with the spiritual in the society of the time. The secular world appears only in subordinate roles; increasingly so in the age of Hildebrandine reform — or revolution — and of the emergent papal monarchy. That, as John Howe has recently urged in his study of church reform directed by the aristocracy,70 is seriously to distort the picture. It may well be argued that the medieval West in all its spiritual, cultural and social complexity, was created in this central medieval period by the new feudal aristocracy active on the diverse frontiers of the west. The abbey of Rievaulx in Yorkshire, the daughter-house of Clairvaux and the second Cistercian foundation in England, the joint leader of opposition to the king and his preferred archbishop in the long drawn-out York election dispute, was home to Ailred of Rievaulx, the most charismatic of twelfth-century Cistercians. Under him and his predecessor as abbot, the saintly William, it embodied and displayed an exemplary piety of warmth and compassion, a humane and spiritual learning and teaching. Rievaulx was first and foremost the foundation of Walter Espec, the lord of Helmsley, who exercised an indisputable, and an unchallenged, patronal authority on and over it.71 The activity of the feudal aristocracy, important though it is in the case of Rievaulx and the new Orders in general, is not wholly adequate or sufficient to explain the range of spiritual initiatives evident within this society. It is necessary once again to enlarge the view, to embrace the less structured achievements and manifestations of the age. The popular piety and turbulence of the Italian towns, the millennarian preachers, the spiritual eccentrics, the secular saints like Pons de Leras, the heterodox, the heretics (among whom the Cathars were the structured equivalent of the new Orders) all display characteristics and energies which are at odds with the attitudes and expectations of nobles and aristocracy.72 They relate most easily, and in many 69. See Georges Duby, The Three Orders: Feudal Society Imagined (Chicago, 1980), pp.147-66. 70. John Howe, 'The Nobility's Reform of the Medieval Church', American Historical Review 93 (1988), pp. 317-39. 71. See Derek Baker, 'Legend and Reality: The Case of Waldef of Melrose', Studies in Church History, 12, ed. Derek Baker, (1975), pp. 59-82; idem, 'Patronage in the Early Twelfth Century: Walter Espec, Kirkham and Rievaulx', in Traditio, Krisis, Renovatio aus theologischer Sicht, ed. Bernd Jaspert and Rudolf Mohr (Marburg, 1976), pp. 92-100; idem, 'Walter Espec and his World', JHS 1 (London, 1989), pp. 91-98; idem, 'San Bernardo e Pelezione de York', Atti del Convegno di studi su San Bernardo di Chiaravalle 1974 (Rome, 1975) pp. 115-80; idem, 'New Frontiers for Old: Internal Frontiers and the Creation of European Society in the Central Middle Ages', Locus 1 (Denton, TX, 1989), pp. 27-52. See also, above n. 55. 72. See A. Borst, Die Katharer, in MGH: Schriften, 12 (Stuttgart, 1953); C. Thouzellier, Catharisme et Valdeisme en Languedoc a la fin du xiie et au debut du xiiie siecle (Paris, 1966); A. Dondaine, 'La hierarchic cathare en Italic', Archivum Fratrum Praedicatorum 19-20 (Rome, 1949-50), pp. 280-313, 234-324.

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cases directly, to the rapidly developing towns of the west and to the principles of that urban development. In short, it may be argued that the fertile piety and spirituality of the central middle ages was the direct consequence of a rampant materialism and could not have been sustained without it. As in fourth-century Egypt, Syria and Asia Minor,73 hermits and ascetics flourished on the margins of a wealthy and self-indulgent society, comfortably aware of its own failings and able to redeem them without undue effort or pain through the patronage and adoption of ascetics and ascetic communities and their support through the surplus and profit of an aggressive, entrepreneurial upper and middle class. The ascetic renewal of the central middle ages, in company with all the other pious and spiritual enterprises of the time, derives not from Graeco-Itahan influences, not from Calabrian hermits, not from the impoverishment of traditional monastic forms, but from fundamental developments in the creation of a feudal/bourgeois society which are best represented by the Ravennese families from which Romuald, Gualbert and Damian sprang; or, amongst secular churchmen, by the austerely competent Clumac bishop of Winchester, abbot of Glastonbury and papal legate, Henry of Blois, who collected classical art but who saw to it personally that the finances of his abbey and diocese were transformed into meticulous and profitable order.74

73. See Derwas Chitty, The Desert a City (London, 1950). 74. See Knowles, Monastic Order, pp. 281-97 and passim. Henry of Blois' own account of the state of Glastonbury when he became abbot, and of the measures he took there, has been preserved in Adam of Domerham's history of the abbey (ibid., p. 287, n. 2). In 1156-57, when in exile from England and over sixty years of age, he took in hand and totally restructured the finances and administration of Cluny itself.

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Odo of Deuil, the Second Crusade and the Monastery of Saint-Denis Henry Mayr-Harting

The Second Crusade was a singularly inglorious episode and something of a Lisbon Earthquake in causing increasingly self-confident men of the mid twelfth century to wonder whether human affairs were indeed set on an inevitably upward gradient.1 Many writers volunteered their own explanations for the fiasco. St. Bernard, who had preached the crusade in the first place, was widely criticised. A German Cistercian came forward to defend him and argued that God had designed it so in order that those who had died on the pilgrimage might at once occupy the places in heaven left vacant by the fallen angels (places apparently kept in reserve by an all-seeing Providence until the 1140s).2 St. Bernard strongly defended himself, maintaining that it was the poor spirit of those who had gone on the crusade, as evidenced by the tournament-fighting of those who returned, which had caused its failure.3 John of Salisbury set the problem down to disputes, rivalries and personal tensions among its leaders;4 while John Cinnamos from the Byzantine side

1. Denis Bethell and I first met in the Oxford undergraduate seminar for the St. Bernard Special Subject, presided over by Billy Pantin, Beryl Smalley and Colin Morris, during the academic year 1956—57. His paper, on the origins of Fountains Abbey, was half the length and at least twice the brilliance of anyone else's. Suger, abbot of Saint-Denis, the monastery of Denis's patron saint whose history and culture is at the heart of this essay, came into the seminar discussions quite a lot, and Odo of Deuil, or at least the early part, was a set text in the Special Subject. For these reasons my topic seemed a suitable one for Denis's memorial volume. Moreover, I recently received valuable comments from the historical seminar of the University of Southampton, where I tried it out when I had written a draft, not least from Colin Morris who was present. I have also had the advantage of useful advice from Henry Chadwick, John Cowdrey, Miri Rubin and Jonathan Shepard. 2. Cited by Giles Constable, 'The Second Crusade as Seen by Contemporaries', Traditio 9 (1953), pp. 213-79, at p. 270. This fine article rightly criticises Odo for his narrow point of view, shows in its own broad conception of the crusade how much more there was to it than what Odo dwelt on, and gives an excellent survey of the general reaction to its failure at pp. 266-76. 3. Sancti Bernardi opera, 3, ed. J. Leclercq and H. M. Rochais (Rome, 1963), De consideration, ii, 1-3, pp. 410-13, and 8 (Rome, 1977), Epistolae, no. 376 (trans. Bruno Scott James, no. 405). 4. The Histona pontificalis of John of Salisbury, ed. and trans. Marjone Chibnall (Oxford, 1956), pp. 52-59.

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would later blame the indiscipline and boorishness of the Germans and their army.5 Standing out, however, for the strong feeling and strident expression of his views, is the principal French historian of the crusade, Odo of Deuil, who considered the root of the trouble to lie in the treachery of the Byzantine emperor, Manual Comnenos.6 To read Odo one would think that the Second Crusade had highlighted in a new way the incompatibility of medieval Greek and Latin politics, religion and culture, at least as these pertained to France on the Latin side.7 Odo's narrative, De profectione Ludovid VII in Orientem, gives a dismal catalogue of Byzantine deceit and betrayal while the crusaders passed through the eastern empire in their exhausting and devastating journey to the Holy Land. That the French obtained an unfavourable rate of exchange to acquire debased Byzantine copper coinage in Bulgaria was the result of Greek perjury, since Manuel had promised a sufficient market and suitable rates of exchange. It was Greek unwillingness to sell sufficient supplies to the crusaders that caused them to plunder and pillage. In the passage through Asia Minor Greek guides had knowingly led the crusading armies, French and German into the ambushes of Muslin Turks, who had been tipped off as to the routes which their unwelcome western guests were taking. When the emperor, so Odo thought, allowed a fleeing Turkish army to take refuge from the forces of Louis VII in the imperial fortified town of Antiochetta, he transformed himself 'from a wily traitor to an avowed enemy'.8 There is more about prices, supply of horses and ships, and so forth, mostly blamed on the Greeks.9 Only occasionally does Odo direct his fire elsewhere, as for instance when he tells of how the Poitevin, Geoffrey de Rancon, leading an advance party, allowed Louis's army to become divided, thus causing the disaster of Mount Cadmos and earning the everlasting hatred of the French, or at least of Odo himself.10 On occasion, Odo half-recognises the argument of Runciman; the crusade failed because St. Bernard preached it to the Germans, whose large and indisciplined army created the logistical problems of supplies and prices 5. John Kinnamos, Deeds of John and Manuel Comnenus, trans. C. M. Brand (Columbia, NY, 1976), book 2, cc. 12-20, pp. 58-73. In addition, William of Saint-Denis, Abbot Suger's secretary, blamed the failure on there being a disorganised, unwieldy multitude, and on the overconfidence of the leaders. See Elizabeth Siberry, Criticism of Crusading, 1095-1275 (Oxford, 1985), pp. 26, 99-100. 6. The editions that I have used are Eudes de Deuil, La Croisade de Louis VII, roi de France, ed. Henri Waquet (Paris, 1949) and Odo of Deuil, De profectione Ludovid VII in Orientem, ed., with English trans., Virginia G. Berry (new York, 1948). Citations are from the latter; hereafter cited as Odo. 7. So he is taken, for instance, by Steven Runciman, The Eastern Schism (Oxford, 1955), p. 128 and by Michael Angold, The Byzantine Empire, 1025-1204 (London, 1984) in his generally perceptive discussion of the crusade, referring at p. 168 to 'the strong body of opinion in the West', which held the Byzantine emperor responsible for the failure of the crusade. 8. Odo, p. 41 (cf., for plunder and pillage, e.g. pp. 45, 57, 67, 97); pp. 91-93, and see the useful note by Virginia Berry, at p. 92, n. 8, casting doubt on whether this event had anything to do with Greek treachery in fact; and p. 113. 9. Odo, e.g. pp. 75, 115, 129, 133-35. 10. Ibid., pp. 123, 129.

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in the Byzantine Empire for the crack French force, problems that Odo was generally so ready to attribute to Manuel personally. For he says of the French crusaders' pillaging: 'some thought that this state of affairs was the fault of the Germans who preceded us, since they had been plundering everything'.11 But it seems that Odo himself was not willing to let the Byzantines off the hook so easily. Odo is a perfect example of the distinction that one must often make between factual reliability, which he has, and objective judgement, which he certainly lacks. Nobody was better qualified to give an eye-witness account than he was, being a monk of Saint-Denis, a confidant of Abbot Suger of Saint-Denis (left as regent of the kingdom during Louis's absence), and a chaplain of the king on the crusade.12 Indeed he had himself done good work in supplying the French army, a fact he modestly passes over but one which William of Saint-Denis later brings out;13 his personality was clearly a compound of monastic humility and holy vitriol. In his prefatory letter addressed to Suger, he writes as if his intention had been to emulate Suger's Life of Louis VI by writing about the son, and suggests that Suger is also better placed to write about the young days of Louis VII, and hence he writes only about the expedition of the twenty-six-year-old king.14 Therefore this is not a biography, but rather a res gestae, like the Gesta Francomm about the First Crusade.15 Nonetheless it has a hagiographical streak about it, which is a possible reason why it ends where it does, with Louis's abandoning most of his army at Adalia and going by sea to Antioch. After that, with Louis's failures and feeble grip on events, it would finally have become impossible for any saintly image to carry conviction. For the Second Crusade there is the fascinating coverage of the later story, and particularly the siege of Damascus in the summer of 1148, by William of Tyre with his acute analysis of the problems there; but that is for the most part another story from ours.16 One point on which Odo lays a surprising emphasis early in his account is that Louis sent to Roger II of Sicily for help when the crusade was mooted, and Roger dispatched a noble deputation to the council of Etampes of February 1147, eagerly offering to transport the crusaders in ships. But that particular form of help was rejected by Louis.17 Maybe it was rejected because Louis did 11. Ibid., pp. 41,43. 12. For his relation to Suger and Louix VII, see ibid., pp. 3, 5, 15. 13. See below, n. 51. 14. Odo, pp. 3-5. 15. The Gesta Francorum, ed. and trans. Rosalind Hill (Oxford, 1962). Res gestae is the title of the famous tenth-century chronicle of Widukind of Corvey about the Saxon rulers and aristocracy, and the chansons de gestes, preeminently The Song of Roland, represent a vernacular development of this form with the legendary element greatly heightened. 16. William of Tyre, A History of Deeds done beyond the Sea, trans. E. A. Babcock and A. C. Krey (New York, 1941), book 17. See Peter Edbury and John G. Rowe, William of Tyre (Cambridge, 1988), esp. pp. 157-62, and the brilliant interpretation of William of Tyre by R. H. C. Davis in Relations between East and West in the Middle Ages, ed. Derek Baker (Edinburgh, 1973), pp. 64-76. 17. Odo, pp. 11-15.

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not trust Roger's intentions towards Byzantium; maybe because once Conrad III was pulled into the crusade by St. Bernard, the cold war between Conrad and Roger ensured that Roger's participation would be unworkable; maybe, and there are some pointers towards this in Odo himself, because the French crusaders attached importance to imitating the First Crusade and following its land-route.18 Whatever the reason, the rejection had serious consequences, because in the autumn of 1147, just when the crusaders were arriving at Constantinople, Roger conducted his own sea-borne attack on the Byzantine Balkans, capturing Corfu and Corinth, and kidnapping silk-workers from Thebes and Athens, causing Manuel to ally with the sultan of Iconium, thus giving the French their strongest reason for thinking that he had betrayed them.19 No wonder that Pope Eugenius III had apparently designed the crusade to be a purely French enterprise while the German emperor would descend on Italy and keep Roger at home. If we would keep Odo's own hatred of the Greeks, and the so-called anti-Byzantinism of the French, in perspective, we must consider carefully his own position on the crusade. He was clearly attached to Godfrey, bishop of Langres, a Cistercian monk, relative and representative of St. Bernard, whom Odo represents as commendably anti-Greek. Much more pro-Greek was Arnulph, bishop of Lisieux, who lead the Norman and English contingent. Both bishops claimed papal legatine status, and they were always quarrelling. This is what John of Salisbury, in a justly famous passage of his Historia pontificalis, brilliantly translated by Marjorie Chibnall, said about them: The truth is that the legates sent by the pope were Theodwin, bishop of Porto, a German, and Guy, cardinal priest of St. Chrysogonus, of Florentine stock; decent men, but far from equal to such high office. For Theodwin, differing from the Franks in language and customs, was regarded as a barbarian. As for Guy, he had scant knowledge of French; he was liberal in outlook, with a kindly nature and a sweet mien, wholly devoid of Roman arrogance; lover of letters and insatiable bookworm, who hated crowds, delighted in learned disputations, and welcomed any chance of threshing out dialectical and philosophical quibbles. The failings of these men put great authority into the hands of the two bishops, who — to tell the truth — would have been of great service if they had worked together in the Lord. The bishop of Langres claimed special authority on the grounds of his order, professing that he had been prior of Clairvaux and that the saintly abbot himself, the preacher of this expedition, had committed the king to his counsel. No one among them was held to be more high-minded. On the other hand the bishop of Lisieux relied on his eloquence and skill in affairs, on his reputation for broadmindedness and courtly jests, which he decked up in the guise of wit. Since the bishop of Langres was more impulsive, he mocked

18. This is not stated where Odo narrates the choice of route, but it is implicit at ibid., p. 59 (see Berry at p. 58, n. 48), and explicit at p. 131 (see her note, p. 130, n. 14). 19. Ibid., p. 58, n. 51, with sources given, and also, p. 55. See also E. Curtis, Roger of Sicily (New York and London, 1912), p. 227, in an excellent chapter on the Second Crusade.

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him saying that he was just like the wine of Cyprus, which is sweet to taste but lethal unless diluted with water.20

Thus Odo, associating himself wholeheartedly with Godfrey of Langres, is a spokesman only for a party amongst the French, and moreover always the losing party, Louis invariably taking the view more favourable to Byzantium, as Odo's testimony shows. Godfrey of Langres wanted an attack on Constantinople, which would draw in Roger II of Sicily with his fleet; 'but alas!' says Odo of those who advocated this course, 'their words did not prevail'. Godfrey argued against punishment for those who had plundered Greek money-changers, but they were punished, and Louis, with more irony than one would generally credit, ordered receivers of stolen goods to return everything via the bishop of Langres. Arnulph of Lisieux meanwhile conducted positive negotiations with the Greeks about markets and return of prisoners. When there was a debate amongst the French whether to do homage for their conquests to the Byzantine Emperor, Godfrey and others proposed that they should refuse on the grounds that they had a perfectly good lord in Louis, but the opposition maintained that according to their custom they might hold their fiefs from and do homage to several lords, which did not prevent them paying homage first and foremost to their lord the king (shades of the treaty between the earls of Chester and Leicester in England during the same year, 1148), and hence there was no reason for withholding homage from the Byzantine Emperor. Louis accepted that Manuel should receive their homage.21 It is true that, in the best known of his letters to Suger from the crusade, Louis mentions the deceit of the Byzantine emperor, but so much in passing and amidst other problems that the attitude conveyed is not at all the same as that of Odo and is entirely congruent rather with Odo's impression of Louis's attitude. They reached Constantinople safely, Louis says in the letter, and were received honourably by the emperor. Then they started to have troubles, partly 'pro fraude imperatoris', and partly 'pro culpa nostrorum' (through the fault of our own people). Moreover, there were robbers, difficult routes, shortage of food supplies, and Turks who had settled in Christian lands by permission of the emperor — bad but not quite Odo's idea that they were tipped off to attack the crusaders.22 Considering that Louis's attitude to the Greeks is what one would expect of the French, that is at worst a mild element of mistrust born of actual close contact and an element by no means preponderant, the attitude of Godfrey of Langres and Odo requires an explanation. Although there was some anti-semitism during the preaching of the crusade, there is no evidence (so far as I am aware) of any anti-Byzantinism from the start, certainly 20. Historia pontificalis, pp. 55-56. Odo implies that Arnulph headed the Norman and English contingents when he refers to 'Arnulfum cum suis Normannis et Anglis', p. 22. 21. Odo, pp. 59, 69-73, 75, 79-81. 22. The letter is printed in Recueil des historiens des Gaules et de la France, 15 (Paris, 1878), pp.495-96.

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not on St. Bernard's part, which would have been the key factor for the Cistercian Godfrey. Where we find incidental references to the East in French sources, which have the force of lacking polemical intention, they suggest good will towards Byzantium rather than hostility. An example is the charter of Saint-Vincent, Macon, uncovered by Giles Constable, which is dated in the year 'when King Louis of France went with a very great army to crush the ferocity of the Gentiles and to exalt the eastern church',23 if, as I think, we can take this to refer to the Greek church, as well as to the Latin church in Outremer. Again, when Louis chose the overland route, he accepted to make a long journey through the Byzantine Empire with apparent equanimity, as did all those French bishops and nobles who advised him. When he and his army were met by the Byzantine legates on their arrival at Regensburg in late June 1147, the French readily agreed that they would take no city or stronghold in the emperor's realm, reserving the question, amicably so it seems, of whether places within the emperor's domain recovered from the Turks should be restored by the French to the emperor — reserving it for a meeting of the two rulers themselves, on account of its vagueness.24 Had Godfrey in particular already shown signs here of the virulent feelings which later afflicted him, we may be quite sure that Odo, who applauded his every anti-Greek position, would have recorded it. Can we find then anything to account, speaking figuratively, for the startling rise in the bishop's blood pressure between Regensburg and Constantinople during the last half of 1147? I think we can, though it looks so trivial that one might hesitate to mention it were it not that whereas the historical method tends to make us look for grandiose explanations, our own experience tells us that trivial ones are often far nearer the truth, particularly when they have to do with real or imagined personal slights. For Odo is explicit that the contingent of Godfrey of Langres and Earl William of Warenrie was repeatedly attached and robbed as it moved through Byzantine Bulgaria, doubtless in itself a doubly unpleasant experience in such distant and alien surroundings, made apparently significant for them in that it was about this time that they heard of Manuel's alliance with the Turks.25 If we want to understand the character of the De profectione Ludovid and its limitations as evidence for general anti-Greek feeling in the West, it is essential to consider when Odo was writing. This has never been much discussed because the answer has always appeared obvious. Odo's oracular and elliptical reference to Damascus towards the end of his work, 'the flowers of France withered before they could bear fruit at Damascus' (the 'withering' referring to the disaster on Cadmos Mountain), suggested to Waquet that this was written after 24 June 1148 when the scheme to besiege Damascus was 23. Cited by Giles Constable, 'Medieval Charters as a Source for the History of the Crusades', in Crusade and Settlement, ed. P. W. Edbury (Cardiff, 1985), p. 83. 24. Odo, pp. 27-29. 25. Ibid., p. 55.

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conceived, but before the disastrous outcome of that siege in late July, as the hope of success is implied. Virginia Berry was of the same mind, adding that Odo's would be a colourless reference from a very colourful writer if written after the ignominy of Damascus.26 Moreover, in his prefatory letter to Suger, Odo says that he was writing whilst still detained amidst the hardships of the journey ('adhuc detentus in agone itineris'), and that looks conclusive for 1148.27 I would argue, however, that the work was written not in the summer of 1148 but in the early months of 1150, when Odo was back in France with Louis and a new crusade was being projected, part of whose plan was a retaliatory attack on the Byzantine Empire. This seems to me to provide a far more explanatory context than the summer of 1148 for the writing of the work and the venting of Odo's anti-Byzantine spleen. Odo often states that one of his purposes in writing is to give advice to future pilgrims, 'for never will there fail to be pilgrims to the Holy Sepulchre'; fair enough while the talk is of the distances between towns and the uselessness of horse-carts on the Danube.28 The manuscript that preserves the text of the De profectione Ludovici also contains material from the Liber Sancti Jacobi, so that Odo probably knew the celebrated pilgrims' guide to Santiago de Compostella compiled around 1140.29 But when he starts to give advice about the route which whole armies should take through Asia Minor — 'I advise you to keep to the shore route and preserve your knights' strength', etc. — as if already envisaging another crusade,30 one wonders whether this is not a little premature if written in the summer of 1148, a rather gloomy prognostication of the outcome of the siege of Damascus, which is supposed to be still in the future. When Louis finally left the Holy Land in the summer of 1149, it was by sea in a Sicilian ship, hence to the Byzantines' fair game. His wife in another ship was captured by the Byzantine navy, which also attacked him. Both were saved by Roger IPs admiral, George of Antioch, who conveyed them safely to Calabria where they stayed with Roger for a few weeks, recovering from this latest trauma.31 It is a dangerous business imagining historical conversations, but it is difficult not to suppose that Roger on more than one occasion during those weeks animadverted to his offer of ships at the council of Etampes, 26. Waquet, Eudes de Deuil, p. 10; Berry, pp. xxii-iii (her argument at p. xxii, n. 64, citing Odo, p. 21, cuts little ice). 27. Odo, p. 2. I cannot finish writing about the 'via sancti sepulcri', he says, 'nam detentus adhuc in agone itineris, et imperitia praepedior et labore'. 28. Ibid., pp. 25, 29-31. 29. For the text of this guide, Le Guide du Pelerin de Saint-Jacques de Compostelle, ed. Jeanne Viellard (Macon, 1950). In a brilliant paper, Eleanor S. Greenhill, 'Eleanor, Abbot Suger and Saint Denis', in Eleanor of Aquitaine, ed. W. W. Kibler (Austin, TX and London, 1976), pp. 81-113, shows how strongly connected to Santiago de Compostella, its architecture and pilgrimage legends, Saint-Denis was, doubtless through the influence of Eleanor of Aquitaine. 30. Odo, e.g., pp. 89, 105 (whence the quotation). 31. E. Vacandard, Vie de Saint Bernard, 2 (Paris, 1920), pp. 439^0; also A. Wilmart, 'Le dialogue apologetique du moine Guillaume, biographe de Suger', Revue Mabillon 32 (1942), pp. 80-118 (with text of William of Saint-Denis's Dialogus apologeticus, pp. 108-9).

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reproaching Louis for not having taken it, while Louis could do no more than wring his hands in wretched agreement. And it is difficult not to suppose that this Byzantine attack was already in the past when Odo wrote, thus providing a satisfactory explanation for his pointed narrative about Roger's rejected offer, which strikes a rather intrusive note into the otherwise gladsome political and religious preparations for the crusade which Odo describes. Given that Odo ends his work with an encomium of Louis VII, it seems that he intended to round it off where he finishes. If it was all written in 1150 there is no doubt that Odo in that case wanted to make it look as if he were writing in 1148 and in the thick of events, since he says that he is writing to Suger 'adhuc in agone itineris' (to paraphrase — I wish to write, but I cannot, because I am still in the agony of the journey). This whole impression, however, may well have been contrived as a literary or rhetorical device to give immediacy to the narrative, as Liudprand of Cremona had done nearly two centuries earlier in that other great medieval anti-Byzantine invective, the De legations Constantinopolitana of 969. Indeed, the rhetoric of the two writers itself has something in common. Liudprand writes as if he were still in the hardships of his journey, held captive on a Greek island by an odious monk called Michael, whom he apostrophises with characteristic hate and gusto: 'I tell you, Michael, and I tell you truly, the bath water will not avail you which you drink so assiduously for the love of St. John the Baptist'.32 Martin Lintzel, however, long ago pointed out that it was inconceivable that Liudprand could have written in the circumstances which it pleases him to imply, for, seeing him writing furiously, would not his Greek guards, who on his own showing were forever ferreting in his baggage, have wished to know what had occasioned such frantic literary activity.33 When he wrote Liudprand was more likely to have been sitting in the next bedroom to Otto I and Otto II, to whom his narrative is addressed, after he rejoined them in Italy during 969.34 It is by no means impossible that Odo knew Liudprand's Legatio, given the wide contacts of the monastery of Saint-Denis; several pre-twelfth-century manuscripts of it survive, one of them from Gembloux. What is not less to our purpose, it seems to have enjoyed something of a revival in the latter half of the twelfth century.35 Am I suggesting, therefore, that Odo, in saying that he wrote still in the agony of the journey, was telling an outright lie in order to gain the effect of literary immediacy? Nothing quite so bald; merely that he might have been using a metaphor. Medieval scholars were used to reading more than the literal level of meaning into the words of the Bible itself, a^d the idea of life as a journey, and an agonising journey at that, was a commonplace metaphor or 32. Liudprandi opera, ed. J. Becker, MGH (Hanover, 1915), p. 212; The Works of Liudprand of Cremona, trans. F. A. Wright (London, 1930), p. 277. 33. Martin Lintzel, Studien iiber Liudprand von Cremona (Berlin, 1933), pp. 149-52. 34. For Otto I's war against Byzantium in south Italy at this time, see Robert Holtzmann, Geschichte der sdchsischen Kaiserzeit (1955 edn.), pp. 217-21. 35. Liudprandi opera, pp. xxiv-xxvii.

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allegory in the middle ages. The prologue to the Rule of St. Benedict, bread and butter to this monk of Saint-Denis, conceives the whole Benedictine life as a journey in the paths of Christ ('per ducatum Evangelii pergamus itinera ejus'); while Augustine of Hippo, apart from all that he wrote on this theme in the City of God, entitled a work on the tribulations of the Christian life De agone Christiana. Rather than propose, however, that Odo meant to say that he was still in the agony of the journey of this life, I suggest a simpler and more apt metaphorical interpretation to meet the present case: that Odo was still in the mental or psychological agony of his (now past) literal crusading journey. It seems to me a more apt interpretation considering the great interest of Parisian schoolmen by the 1140s (very much so in the case of Abelard) in psychological states of the human mind when discussing theology and morality.36 Put another way, he was still detained in the agony of the journey, not still detained in the journey itself. It cannot be proved that the De profectione Ludovici was written in 1150 rather than in 1148, but there is a telling little indication of it in William of Saint-Denis's Dialogus Apologeticus written to justify his part as a monk of Saint-Denis in the election of Odo of Deuil to be abbot of Saint-Denis in succession to Suger at the beginning of 1151, and in the subsequent disputes which led to William's own temporary exile from the monastery. William had been secretary and chaplain to Suger, and though on the other side from Odo, wrote of his personal qualities with considerable respect. Although the crusade was to the side of his main purpose in writing, he has some observations about it, referring to the brief visit of Louis and his entourage, including Odo, to Pope Eugenius III at Rome in October 1149. Louis, says William, was very friendly received by the pope, 'who in conversation wanted to know everything that had happened to the pilgrims, so that the lengthy account hardly satisfied his longing to hear [audientis desiderium}'*7 Now if Odo's book was already in existence at this time, and he was carrying it with him, it does seem rather singular that no mention of it should be made on this occasion when it would have been so appropriate, no suggestion that the pope would be able to read at leisure an already existing written account of events about which he could hardly hear enough in the time available. If it was not in existence yet in October 1149, all would be explained, and we could regard the narration to the pope as an excellent opportunity to rehearse a book shortly to be written.

36. The basic study here is O. Lottin, Psychologic et morale aux Xlle et XHIe siecles, 6 volumes (Louvain, Gembloux, 1942-60). See also Peter Ahelard's Ethics, ed. D. E. Luscombe (Oxford, 1971), and note the psychological interest of some of the quaestiones in Abelard's Sic et non, e.g., nos. 55, 115, 145, as given in C. H. Haskins, The Renaissance of the Twelfth Century (New York, 1957), pp. 354-55. 37. A. Wilmart, 'Le dialogue'; the text says that Eugenius III gave Louis a friendly reception, and, 'de singulis que peregrinantibus contigissent requirens, cum eo sit collocutus, adeo ut vix audientis desiderium satiaret longa narratio' (Dialogus, c. 16, p. 109, lines 31-33). That Odo himself was of the party is clear at pp. 108-9.

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The scheme for another crusade, to which we have already referred, was short-lived, arising it seems in February 1150 and running into the ground only three months later, but it was intense while it lasted.38 It involved principally Suger, St. Bernard, Peter the Venerable and the two cardinal-legates of the previous crusade. The idea was that, while a new French expedition would operate in the Holy Land against Nur-ed-Din, whose capture of Edessa in 1144 had been the original cause of the Second Crusade and who had gone from strength to strength since, Roger II of Sicily should make a seaborne attack on Byzantium to repay them for their supposed sabotage of the crusade. Essential to this latter objective was that peace should be made between Roger and the Emperor Conrad III, who had come away from the crusade the firm ally of Manuel Comnenus, for without such peace and the breaking of the German/Byzantine alliance, Roger would never be prevailed upon to leave home for fear of another strike by imperial forces into South Italy while he was away, like that of 1137.39 St. Bernard did not openly advocate an attack on Byzantium at this time, according to the surviving evidence, but he obviously worked for it by writing to Conrad, praising Roger, whom he had held up to obloquy in the 1130s, saying that he was useful to the Catholic church and would be more useful in the future if not prevented by the power and might of Conrad himself. Cardinals Theodwin and Guy, the latter rousing himself from the bookwormish character which John of Salisbury had given him, wrote to the emperor in the same vein.40 Peter the Venerable wrote to Roger II, in explicit tones letting the cat out of the bag about the anti-Byzantine objectives of the new plan, urging Roger to take vengeance on the Greeks for their lamentable and unparalleled treachery.41 All this seems to have come to nothing by early April; Conrad would not break his alliance with Manuel, while Pope Eugenius III would not countenance a policy which if successful might greatly strengthen Roger's position in the Mediterranean as a whole to the pope's disadvantage. I suggest that February to April 1150, or perhaps immediately before, was a time of writing which would best fit the rabidly anti-Greek tone of Odo and other features of the De profectione Ludovici which sit uneasily with the summer of 1148, its generally accepted date. An attack upon Byzantium was not a necessary and indispensable element of any new crusade; there is not a shred of evidence, so far as I know, that it was ever part of Suger's thinking. Herein lies an important further point for understanding why Odo wrote, if he was writing early in 1150. William, in his Life of Suger, gives Greek treachery about as much emphasis as Louis VII had done in his letter to Suger from the crusade, that is, very little, 38. The best account of the episode is Vacandard, Vie de St. Bernard, 2, pp. 439-46. 39. Ibid., p. 440. 40. Details of the letters of St. Bernard and Cardinal Guy are contained in a letter of Wibald of Stavelot, Wibaldi abbatis Stabulensis epistolae, no. 225, PL, vol. 189, cols. 1311-12. 41. Text in The Letters of Peter the Venerable, ed. Giles Constable (Cambridge, MA, 1967), ep. 162, 1, pp. 394-95. Translation and good commentary can be found in Virginia Berry, 'Peter the Venerable and the Crusades', in Petrus Venerabilis, 1156-1956, ed. Giles Constable and James Kritzeck, Studia Anselmiana 40 (Rome, 1956), pp. 141-62, esp. pp. 156-57.

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though like that letter he mentions it in passing.42 His emphasis is on the needs of the Latin Orient, and well might it be, for immediately after Louis VII had left the Holy Land there was a catalogue of Christian disasters at the hands of Nur-ed-Din in which Raymond of Antioch lost his life and Jocelin of Edessa was taken captive, resulting in an appeal for help to the French from the Latin patriarch of Antioch and King Baldwin of Jerusalem. 'Aroused by such necessity', says William, 'Suger initiated pious consideration of how to bring help to those in danger and to turn the injury to the Cross back on its abominators', the Muslims.43 All this petered out after the councils of Laon in April and of Chartres in May for lack of support amongst French bishops and barons,44 implying a fortiori that they were not enthusiastic about an attack on Byzantium — apropos of Odo's minority position amongst the French. It is not of great consequence for our argument whether William faithfully reflects Suger's views in this, as I think he does, given the complete lack of anti-Byzantine vituperation in Suger's own letters about the Second Crusade and the proposed new crusade,45 or whether he used the writing of the Vita to project his own opinions onto Suger. Either way, we can see that there was an influential attitude inside Saint-Denis in the aftermath of the Second Crusade which was much less obsessed with the wrongs of the Greeks than was Odo. That would surely constitute a most important motive for the writing of the De profectione Ludovici when Odo had returned to his abbey at the turn of 1149/1150 — there was a need to persuade his confreres of his views. Only one manuscript of the work survives, to which I will turn in a moment, and it is as certain as such a matter can be that it is a direct copy of a Saint-Denis prototype,46 which means that outside the monastery of Saint-Denis hardly anybody was interested in it. It looks very much as if the primary intended audience was the monks of Saint-Denis. William of Saint-Denis refers in his Life of Suger to complaints by the monks against Suger that he diverted the resources of the monastery of SaintDenis itself for the purposes of a new crusade and to the Templars, dismissing the complaints on the grounds that the monastery could afford it.47 This refers to the time after a new crusade had failed to win support amongst the French 42. I.e., where, writing about Suger's regency during the Second Crusade, he says that Suger would not allow his rule to be disturbed in the manner that the dolositas Graecorum was said to have troubled the camp of God (castra Dei); Sugerii vita Gaufredo suo suus Willelmus, in Ouevres completes de Suger, ed. A. Lecoy de la Marche (Paris, 1867), p. 397. 43. Vita Sugerii, p. 399. 44. Vacandard gives the evidence for this, Vie de St. Bernard, 2, pp. 442-44. 45. Suger's letters, Oeuvres Completes as above, n. 42, relevant to the crusade are ep. 11, pp. 258-60, of 1149, begging Louis to return to France from the crusade, and ep. 18, pp. 268-69, to the anti-Byzantine Peter the Venerable about the meeting at Chartres in 1150, where his emphasis is on the need to help the church in Outremer, thus vindicating the line of William of Saint-Denis in his Vita Sugerii, above, n. 43. 46. Because of the other material in it, see Berry, Odo, pp. xxxii-iv, and above, n. 29. 47. Vita Sugerii, p. 400: 'Nam exinde cepit satagere ut per manus sacri Templi militum sumptus tantae rei necessaries Hierosolymam praemitteret, ex his scilicet redditibus quos proprio sudore vel solertia monasterio adjecerat. Unde recte nullus indignabitur, si attenderit quantum (continued)

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in May 1150 and thus after I believe Odo had written; but it suggests that there must earlier have been Saint-Denis monks who were not enthusiastic about expenditure on crusading — another Saint-Denis reason for Odo to write. Indeed, Eleanor Greenhill has suggested that around 1148, as a result of the Second Crusade, the abbey was having to consider its financial priorities as between crusading and continuing with the rebuilding of its church.48 All this is not to say that Odo was out of step with the general ideals and political agenda of Saint-Denis — to make the monastery and its patron saint central to the development of Capetian royal power;49 he would never have been elected abbot in 1151, and with the warm assent of Louis VII, had that been the case.50 Odo clearly set Louis's expedition within a context of the glory of Saint-Denis.51 It is to say that he took part in the arguments within the monastery about the best means to achieve agreed objectives. One might think that if the De profectione Ludovici were a blast against an opposing party in an internal Saint-Denis debate, as I am suggesting, it would have been mentioned by William of Saint-Denis, of all people, when he wrote his Dialogus apologeticus within a year or two of Odo's election to succeed Suger as abbot. Here, while recognising Odo's achievements, including his personal qualities of learning and moral seriousness and his courage and good administration of supplies on the crusade, he makes the case against Odo for creating faction within the monastery after he became abbot.52 Would one not expect, if my suggestion were correct, that he would have added to his passage about all the trials which Odo could not have endured on crusade without the grace of God — Greek trickery, the crossing of the Pontus, the mountain heights, precipices, snow and ice, and enemy attacks53 — some observation to the effect that it was a pity that he had lost his balanced (continued)

illium studio omnes ecclesiae possessiones in redditibus creverint, quot etiam praedia adquisita', etc. There is comment on this in the masterly paper by Giles Constable, 'Suger's Monastic Administration', in Abbot Suger and Saint-Denis: A Symposium, ed. Paula Lieber Gerson (New York, 1986), pp. 17-32, at p. 20. 48. Greenhill, 'Eleanor', p. 97. One should, however, note with Giles Constable, in 'Suger's Monastic Administration', p. 22, that Saint-Denis made considerable financial gains from the Second Crusade through property sold or mortgaged to it by crusaders needing to pay for their expedition. 49. See esp. E. Panofsky, Abbot Suger on the Abbey Church of Saint-Denis (Princeton, NJ, 1946), introduction; Otto von Simson, The Gothic Cathedral (New York, 1962), c. 3; and Jean Dunbabin, France in the Making, 843-1180 (Oxford, 1985), pp. 256-59. 50. A. Wilmart, 'Le dialogue', pp. 110-12. Louis VII is said to give his glad assent, 'turn propter persone [i.e., Odo] probatam religionem, turn etiam propter familiaritatem pristinam', ibid., p. 112, lines 70-71. 51. E.g., Odo, pp. 16,69. 52. Wilmart, 'Le dialogue', Dialogus apolgeticus, p. I l l , lines 31-32, for his personal qualities: 'eruditio literarum, morum gravitas, aetatis maturitas, atque etiam stature vel gestus dignitas'. William adds a damning qualification even here, 'quamvis ultimum hoc leve sit et frigidum tot tantisque dotibus addidisse'. On his courage and contribution to provisioning the crusading army, ibid., pp. 106-8. On the case against Odo and his building up a private faction inside and outside the monastery after his election, ibid., pp. 112, and esp. 115. 53. Ibid., p. 106, lines 25-29.

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judgement about the crusade, as he lost it in dealing with Suger's supporters and relatives after that abbot had died? I think one would not. The writing of the De profectione Ludovici, notwithstanding the time devoted to its study by scholars and special-subject students, was probably a very passing episode. The anti-Greek plan arose, it seems, in February 1150; two months later it was dead. The De profectione is not a long work at some 35,000 words, nor is it studded with classical learning (or any other sort of learning outside the Bible), as is William's Dialogus apologeticus, who wrote after all in exile with time on his hands. It is a gush of passionate narrative and rhetoric, a pamphlet of the moment, which could easily have been completed within a month. Since the early months of 1150, and by the time the Dialogus apologeticus was written, a lot of water had flowed under the bridge. In April and May 1150 there had been the proposal for a new crusade with the Byzantine aspect detached; in September 1150 had come Odo's election to the abbacy of Saint-Corneille, Compiegne, previously a house of secular canons transformed into a monastic dependency of Saint-Denis, which involved controversy and an appeal by Odo to Rome;54 then in January 1151 there occurred Odo's election to Saint-Denis and all the subsequent trouble which had resulted in the exile to southern France of William himself. It is really not surprising that thereafter William did not recall the De Profectione Ludovici to mind, whatever he might have thought of it at the time of its production. The manuscript evidence for Odo, though not incompatible with a date of composition in 1148, strongly suggests the context of the proposed attack by Byzantium in early 1150; for there is but one manuscript, now at Montpellier, which is of Clairvaux provenance, but indubitably derived, as Virginia Berry showed, from a Saint-Denis prototype.55 Thus it represents the Saint-Denis/Clairvaux axis, with the author himself at the former and St. Bernard, doubtless persuaded to his anti-Greek stance by Godfrey of Langres, at the latter. The argument of this essay may seem rather negative, or even such as to trivialise the whole subject of the crusades. It may have the appearance of straining at a gnat to argue that our text was composed not in June/July 1148 but in January/March 1150. Yet like many seemingly negative arguments, it has a positive side. If I am right, neither can Odo be taken as a typical Frenchman of the time in his attitude to Byzantium, nor, given the extraordinary and ephemeral circumstances of his writing, can the De profectione Ludovici be taken — as it often is — to represent a fixed western view of hatred towards the eastern empire resulting from the second crusade. It is not within the scope of this essay or its author's present knowledge to embark on a total survey of the relations of East and West in politics, religion and culture during the twelfth century, but every scholar's approach to the subject of these relations 54. Giles Constable, 'Suger's Monastic Administration', p. 21; Wilmart, 'Le dialogue', p. 109; and Cartulaire de I'abhaye de Saint-Corneille de Compiegne, ed. Emile Morel (Montdidier, 1904-9), 1, p. 115, no. 62. 55. Odo, pp. xxxii-xxxv.

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known to me points to a general sense of common purpose, coalescence of interests and cultural harmony, in and amongst all the cliches and type-casting of the circumlocutory and deceitful Greeks on the one side and the coarse and barbarian Latins on the other, amidst the doctrinal disagreements, and the particular political tensions such as Sicily cum Antioch versus Constantinople. This would appear to be the lesson of Runciman's The Eastern Schism, against which his view of Odo of Deuil and the Second Crusade makes singularly little impact.56 It is the picture of relations between Greek and Latin churches which on balance emerges from the fine work of Bernard Hamilton; and Hugo Buchtal in his study of Queen Melisende's Psalter, which is earlier than the Second Crusade, shows that the use of Byzantine artistic models was fundamental to book illumination in Outremer, as it was in many ateliers and scriptoria of the west, even though these were handled in a western, Romanesque manner.57 Edbury and Rowe have shown that William of Tyre saw the political well-being of the Latin Kingdom of Jerusalem as being inextricably tied to alliance with the Byzantine Empire.58 Of course we must distinguish between the Latin world in the East and that in the West; and where culture is concerned we must always be prepared to distinguish between antipathy towards a political power and appreciation of its culture. As Runciman would have it of Roger II of Sicily, he 'possessed to the full his family's hatred of Byzantium, though he loved to copy its methods and patronise its arts'.59 Nonetheless, bearing in mind every salutary caution, I would like to add a postscript to this essay about liturgical relations between the Greek world and the monastery of Saint-Denis itself, which reduces in size the significance of Odo's philippic. At least as early as the ninth or tenth century, liturgical manuscripts of Saint-Denis attest to the fact that on the feast of Pentecost, the ordinary of the mass (and parts of the proper) were sung in the Greek language, with the use of chants strongly argued to be authentically Byzantine.60 By the eleventh century we can show that this was also the case at other French churches, Nevers for instance.61 The Greek chants of the ordinary could therefore have been used long before the Second Crusade for the patronal Feast of St. Denis, and probably were, for it is hard to see why this extra solemnity should have been applied at the monastery to the feast of the octave of St. Denis, as we know it came to be in the late twelfth or early thirteenth century, if it were not already the usage of the feast itself.62 56. Above, n. 7. 57. Bernard Hamilton, The Latin Church in the Crusader States (London, 1980), c. 7 — despite his draconian last paragraph; Hugo Buchtal, Miniature Painting in the Latin Kingdom of Jerusalem (Oxford, 1957), pp. 1-14. 58. William of Tyre, c. 8. 59. Steven Runciman, A History of the Crusades, 2 (1952), p. 207. 60. Michel Huglo, 'Les chants de la missa Greca de Saint-Denis', in Essays Presented to Egon Wellesz, ed. Jack Westrup (Oxford, 1966), pp. 75-76: C9/C10 MSS referred to in particular are Paris, BN, MS Lat. 2290, fos. 7v-8, and Laon, Bibl. Mun., MS 118, fo. 156v. 61. Huglo, p. 75; BN, MSS lat. 9449, fos. 49v-52, lat. 779, fo. 67 and nouv. acq. lat. 1871, fo. 22. 62. Huglo, pp.. 74-77, 83.

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Moreover, the offertory chant of this octave mass was the Byzantine Hymn of the Cherubim, found in a Latin translation in Saint-Denis manuscripts as early as the eleventh century, but later chanted at Saint-Denis in Greek, a practice adopted according to liturgical scholars between the eleventh and thirteenth centuries.63 In other words Greek elements filter into the Saint-Denis liturgy both before and after the period of the Second Crusade. An important stimulus to the adoption of Greek liturgy at Saint-Denis would appear to have been the arrival there in 1167 of a doctor called William de Gap, who have travelled in the East and brought Greek manuscripts with him, including a panegyric of Saint-Denis composed in the late ninth century by Michael Syncellus, who shows himself to have been aware of the cult of Saint-Denis in Paris. This William became abbot of Saint-Denis in 1173. Meanwhile the panegyric was translated into Latin by none other than William of Saint-Denis, the selfsame former secretary of Suger, and the translation was dedicated to Abbot Ivo II (1162-72), Odo's successor.64 All this is of great interest for the study of the De profectione Ludovici, since Odo refers to the celebration of the feast of St. Denis (October 9) by Louis VII and his army outside Constantinople in 1147, and to the harmonious liturgical collaboration of Greeks and French. This is what he says: Since the Greeks celebrate this feast, the emperor knew of it, and he sent over to the king a carefully selected group of his clergy, each of whom he had equipped with a large taper decorated elaborately with gold and a great variety of colours; and thus he increased the glory of the ceremony. These clergy certainly differed from ours as to words and order of service, but they made a favourable impression because of their sweet chanting; for the mingling of voices, the heavier with the light, the eunuch's namely, with the manly voice (for many of them were eunuchs), softened the hearts of the Franks. Also, they gave the onlookers pleasure by their graceful bearing and gentle clapping of hands and genuflexions.65

I cannot find so much as an allusion to this passage by any of the liturgical scholars, nor any cognisance of the liturgy by students of Odo. Obviously, from Odo's words, the Byzantine clergy in 1147 were not singing the particular Greek chants which the monks of Saint-Denis could hitherto have found in

63. Ibid., pp. 78-79; the eleventh-century Saint-Denis MS is Paris, Mazarin 384, fo. 153, and the neums for the Latin text here correspond to those of a Corvey ms where the hymn is given in Greek, Diisseldorf, MS D.2, fo. 203v. Note the early medieval Corbie/Saint-Denis/Corvey axis. 64. Ibid., p.74 and Raymond Loenertz, 'Le panegyrique de S. Denys 1'Areopagit par S. Michel le Syncelle', Analecta Bollandiana 68 (1950), pp. 94-107. The Greek text is in Paris, BN, MS Grec. 933, a tenth-century manuscript brought by William the Doctor; the Latin translation, unedited, is in BN, MS lat. 2447, fos. 81-114, where William of Saint-Denis describes himself as 'homo semi-graeculus et vix latinus'. On the panegyric's awareness of the cult in Paris, and its praise of Paris in an apostrophe, see Loenertz, 'Le panegyrique', pp.97,101-2. 65. Odo, p. 69.

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their tropes, but it is surely probable that this celebration had heightened the interest in Greek liturgy at Saint-Denis before the arrival there of William de Gap, and that the manuscripts of the latter were received into an already receptive culture. Preposterously, Odo treats the whole affair in retrospect as an indication of the Greek capacity for dissimulation amidst their treachery. Taking the evidence as a whole, however, we might conclude that from the vantage point of 1147, the future at Saint-Denis lay not with Odo of Deuil and his outpourings of very temporary significance in the early months of 1150, but with the spirit of the two Williams, William of Saint-Denis and William of Gap.

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Chronology

1144 1145 1146 1147

February

1147

June

1147 1148 1148 1149 1149

October June 24

1149

October

1150

February

1150

January-March?

1150

April

1150 1151

May December January

c. 1153 c. 1153-55

July May-June

July

Fall of Edessa to Nur-ed-Din causes the preaching of the Second Crusade Pope Eugenius Ill's crusading bull Quantum praedessores St. Bernard's preaching of the crusade Council of Etampes; Roger IPs offer of sea transport made Louis VIPs army at Regensburg on the Danube Louis VIPs army reaches Constantinople Decision to besiege Damascus Siege of Damascus fails Louis VII leaves the Holy Land Louis VII and Roger II meet in Calabria, south Italy Louis VII and Queen Eleanor (Odo of Deuil with them) visit Pope Eugenius III in Rome. Return to France Approaches to Conrad III to make peace with Roger II. Efforts fail in March Odo of Deuil writes his De profectione Ludovici VII Council of Laon concerning another crusade Council of Chartres Death of Abbot Suger Election of Odo of Deuil as abbot of Saint-Denis William of Saint-Denis writes Dialogus apologeticus William of Saint-Denis writes Vita Sugerii

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11 The Quest for Sir John Mandeville J.R.S. Phillips

At first sight a quest for Sir John Mandeville,1 the eponymous hero of one of the most widely read and translated works of late medieval travel literature, seems entirely unnecessary,2 since circumstantial evidence in the text itself identifies him as an English knight from St. Albans in Hertfordshire who left England on 29 September in either 1322 or 1332, travelled to the Holy Land and Egypt, to India, the empire of Cathay, Persia and Turkey, returned to Europe in either 1356 or 1366,3 and then wrote an account of his experiences. To lend his narrative further credibility the author also claimed to have shown his book to the pope, who read it and declared that it was all true 'for he said

1. This essay is a development of the discussion of The Travels of Sir John Mandeville, in J. R. S. Phillips, The Medieval Expansion of Europe (Oxford and New York, 1988), c. 10, 'Scholarship and the Imagination', especially pp. 206-11. It is offered to the memory of a colleague in the Department of Medieval History at University College Dublin whose friendship and learning are both sadly missed. 2. The latest and most comprehensive study of The Travels is the remarkable work of scholarship by Christiane Deluz, Le livre de Jean de Mandeville: une 'geographic' au xive siecle, Universite Catholique de Louvain, Publications de 1'Institut d'Etudes Medievales, Textes, Etudes, Congres, 8 (Louvain-la-Neuve, 1988). This provides the most complete listing of the extant manuscripts and their present location, together with an analysis of the geographical and linguistic diffusion of The Travels and a full bibliography of published work on Mandeville and on related subjects. See especially, annexe 1, 'Tableau des manuscrits', pp. 370-82 and annexe 5, 'Diffusion du livre de Mandeville', pp. 416-21. There is also a valuable guide to editions of and writings on The Travels by C. K. Zacher entitled 'Travel and geographical writings,' in Albert E. Hartung, ed., A Manual of the Writings in Middle English, 1050-1500, 7, The Connecticut Academy of Arts and Sciences, 19 (Hamden, Connecticut, 1986), pp. 2239-241, 2452-457. Other works that will be cited in this essay include: Mandeville's Travels: Texts and Translations, ed. M. M. Letts, Hakluyt Society, second series, vols. 101 and 102 (London, 1953; repr. Nendeln/Liechtenstein, 1967), which contains the Egerton Text (English: British Library, MS Egerton 1982), the Paris Text (French: Bibliotheque Nationale, MS Nouv. Acq. Franc. 4515), and the Bodleian (English: MS Rawlinson D.99), together with extracts in the appendices from several other manuscripts; Mandeville's Travels, ed. M. C. Seymour (Oxford, 1967), which contains the Cotton text (English: British Library, MS Cotton Titus C.XVI); The Travels of Sir John Mandeville, trans. C. W. R. D. Moseley (London, 1983), which uses the English language Cotton, Egerton and other manuscripts; and J. W. Bennett, The Rediscovery of Sir John Mandeville, The Modern Language Association of America (New York, 1954). 3. The years given for Mandeville's departure and return are dependent on whether the so-called Cotton or Egerton text is followed. See the discussion of the dates given in these and in other MSS in Letts, Mandeville's Travels, pp. xvii, 222.

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that he had a book of Latin that contained all that and mickle more, after which book the Mappa Mundi is made; and that book he showed to me'.4 However, a century of modern scholarship devoted to the study of The Travels of Sir John Mandeville has served only to demonstrate that such a straightforward interpretation cannot be sustained. It is now known, for example, that with the exception of the prologue and the concluding chapter all of the material was obtained from a wide range of other works that included accounts of genuine thirteenth- and fourteenth-century travels in Asia and in the Holy Land.5 As a result, it is hardly surprising that the results of the search by many different scholars for a fourteenth-century John Mandeville 4. Ibid., p. 222, where the editor also suggests that the Mappa Mundi in question was the famous Hereford Map. However, this presupposes that the author of The Travels was in fact English and that he might have seen the map in its place in Hereford cathedral. If the pretence that Mandeville visited the pope is maintained, the Latin book in question could have been the Flor des estoires de la terre d'orient, written by the exiled Armenian Prince Hayton at the papal curia in 1307 and at the request of Pope Clement V, which was one of the sources drawn upon by the author of The Travels. The term mappa mundi could refer to a written description of the world as well as to a pictorial representation, for which see Phillips, Medieval Expansion, pp. 196-97; Li livres don tresor of Brunetto Latini, ed. P. Chabaille (Paris, 1863), Part 4, pp. 151-81; Polychronicon of Ranulph Higden, ed. C. Babington and J. R. Lumby, RS, 1 (London, 1865), p. 26. The statement that Mandeville visited the pope at Rome, for which see Letts, Mandeville's Travels, p. 222, that appears only in the English versions of Mandeville has been interpreted by Moseley, The Travels, pp. 26, 189, as an interpolation made at the time the work was translated into English, implying that this took place after the return of the papacy from Avignon to Rome in 1377. However, the remark could easily refer to a date during the period of the Avignon papacy, since it was a commonplace in the fourteenth century to speak about going to 'the court of Rome', meaning the papal curia. In this sense, wherever the pope was, there was Rome also. See, for example, the reference sub anno 1306 to the Scottish embassy sent to the Roman curia at a time when the pope was resident in France, in Scotichronicon by Walter Bower, ed. D. E. R. Watt (Aberdeen, 1991), 6 (1286-1319) p. 318. Another example, s.a. 1340, is a reference to the Avignon pope Benedict XII as the 'pope of Rome' in Jean Du Pin, Le champ vertueux de bonne view appelle Mandevie (Paris, 1505), chapter one of the first branch. 5. The sources drawn upon by the author of The Travels have been discussed by the editors of all the important editions. However, the most detailed listing of the sources and analysis of their contribution to specific sections of the text are to be found in Deluz, Le livre, part 1, c. 3, 'La "librairie" de Mandeville' and annexe 6, 'Sources de Mandeville', pp. 428-92. The materials used included: the thirteenth-century repositories of tales known as the Legenda aurea by James of Voragine and the Livres dou tresor of Brunetto Latini; the encyclopaedic Speculum naturale and Speculum historiale compiled by the French Dominican Vincent of Beauvais in the mid thirteenth century that supplied material from Giovanni di Piano Carpini's recent account of his journey across Asia to visit the Mongol Great Khan; the narrative of the Franciscan Odoric of Pordenone's travels in India and China which had been composed in 1330 soon after his return to Europe; the Flor des estoires de la terre d'orient (mentioned above, n. 4); and, the so-called 'Letter of Prester John', with its tales of a wondrous Christian kingdom of immense wealth located somewhere in Asia, which had been circulating in Europe since the second half of the twelfth century. Information on the Holy Land was derived from such readily available sources as the early thirteenth-century Historia orientalis by Jacques de Vitry, bishop of Acre; the De statu Saracenorum composed in 1270 by the Dominican William of Tripoli, whose other claim to fame is his refusal of the opportunity to accompany Marco Polo on his famous journey to China in 1271; and the narrative written in 1336 by the German knight William of Boldensele of his own pilgrimage to the Holy Land in 1332-33. A number of these works, especially those of Hayton, Odoric of Pordenone and Boldensele, were extensively drawn upon by the author of The Travels and were used both in (continued)

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from England who might have been a real traveller and the author of a work bearing his name have been entirely inconclusive.6 The confusion has, however, been further compounded by the claim by the Liege chronicler, Jean d'Outremeuse (1338-1400), that in 1372 a friend of his whom he knew as a physician named Jean de Bourgogne, revealed to him on his deathbed that he was really Sir John de Mandeville, the count of Montfort (continued)

their original form and also in the French translation under the collective title of Le livre des merveilles that was made by the Benedictine monk Jean le Long of Ypres in 1351, on which see Deluz, Le livre, pp. 63-5, 70-1, 123 and Bennett, Rediscovery, pp. 82-83. However, the author of The Travels did not, as was once thought, draw upon the account of Marco Polo's travels which was circulating widely by the middle of the fourteenth century, for which see Deluz, Le livre, pp. 51-52, and would have been readily available — had the author chosen to employ it. The implication must surely be that he deliberately chose not to. For a contrary opinion, see Letts, Mandeville's Travels, p. 1. 6. The evidence on the various English and Irish Mandevilles has been very thoroughly examined in an invaluable discussion by Bennett, Rediscovery, cc. 13 and 14. See also, Letts, Mandeville's Travels, pp. xxiii-iv. The name Mandeville had been current in England since the arrival from Normandy of Geoffrey de Mandeville or Manneville during the reign of William the Conqueror. His descendant, another and more famous Geoffrey, became earl of Essex in 1140; the title remained in the family until the direct line died out in 1227, after which it passed to the Bohun earls of Hereford, on which see Bennett, Rediscovery, pp. 184-85. It is not known with certainty from which part of Normandy the family took its original name (see Complete Peerage, 5, p. 113). It has been suggested that the junior branch of the Mandeville family, who remained in the early fourteenth century at Black Notley in Essex as tenants of the earldom of Hereford, may have included a John Mandeville in their ranks who could have begun a journey overseas in 1322 in the aftermath of the battle of Boroughbridge in which the earl of Hereford was killed, Bennett, Rediscovery, pp. 185, 192-95. For the circumstances of the battle, see J. R. S. Phillips, Aymer de Valence, Earl of Pembroke, 1307-1324 (Oxford, 1972), pp. 214-25. There is no firm evidence of a Mandeville of this name in 1322 but by coincidence it is known that before the battle the earl of Hereford had planned to flee to the county of Hainault in the Low Countries (ibid., p. 224, citing P.R.O., D.L. 34/25). Later in the fourteenth century, Humphrey de Bohun (d. 1361), earl of Hereford and Essex, had a John Mandeville among his dependents and was also a patron of literature. In 1397 a copy of The Travels was in the possession of Thomas, duke of Gloucester, who had succeeded to the Bohun estates through marriage in 1373 (Bennett, Rediscovery, pp. 205-8). Another fourteenth-century John Mandeville was the ']M.' who was ransomed from his imprisonment on the island of Rhodes early in the reign of Edward II and who might be supposed to have had some knowledge of the Holy Land and of the eastern Mediterranean, Year Books of Edward II, Volume 1, 1 and 2 Edward II, A.D. 1307-1309, ed. F. W. Maitland, Selden Society, 17 (London, 1903; repr. 1974), pp. 21-23 and Bennett, Rediscovery, p. 187. The well-known Mandeville family who were settled in Ireland and had close relations with the earldom of Ulster also included a 'J-M.' who, it has been suggested, might have had cause to flee the country because of the murder of the earl of Ulster, and so have become a traveller overseas, on which see Bennett, Rediscovery, p. 182 and Letts, Mandeville's Travels, p. xxiv and n. 1. There is a considerable amount of information in official records about these Mandevilles. John de Mandeville was on royal service in Scotland as a valet in 1300 and at some point, contemporary with Edward I or Edward II, as a knight. Either this J. M. or a relative of the same name was a member of the Scottish-controlled army which advanced out of Ulster against Dublin in 1317, and later that year was held hostage in Dublin Castle as a surety for his uncle, Sir Hugh de Mandeville, Liber qitotidianus garderobae, 28 Edward I, ed. J. Topham [London, 1787], p. 233, which was edited from Society of Antiquaries MS 119; P.R.O., London, C 81/1732/33; E 101/237/8, m. 3; P.R.O.I., Dublin, EX 1/2 [Memoranda Roll, 13 Edward II], m.5d. 'J.M.' was not, however involved in the murder of the earl of Ulster in 1333 and was still in royal service in 1335, for which see G.R. Orpen, Ireland under the Normans, 1216-1333, iv (Oxford, 1920), pp. 245-46, Bennett, Rediscovery, p. 182 and Letts, Mandeville's Travels, p. xxiv, n. 1.

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in England and the lord of Campdi and of Chateau Perouse. This Mandeville had allegedly left England after accidentally killing an unnamed count, had travelled throughout the world as a penance, and had then settled in Liege in 1343.7 As if to provide confirmation of this story, a memorial plaque to Sir John Mandeville together with his supposed coat of arms was later placed in the church of the Guillemins at Liege.8 Some scholars have argued that Jean de Bourgogne was the author of The Travels of Sir John Mandeville; others that he was claiming authorship of a book that was not his; and yet others that Jean d'Outremeuse was himself the author both of the additional evidence and of The Travels? It is not possible to prove conclusively that Jean de Bourgogne, who was a real physician living in fourteenth-century Liege,10 could not have written The Travels, but there is now a very strong suspicion that Jean d'Outremeuse invented Bourgogne's supposed knowledge of Mandeville and of his book.11 The additional information on Mandeville is recorded only in Jean d'Outremeuse's massive world chronicle, the Myreur des Histors,12 which has been shown to contain a great deal of purely fictional material often designed to redound to the credit of the author's home city of Liege and of the cathedral of Saint-Lambert at Liege which he served as a legal official.13 Jean d'Outremeuse also had a particular obsession with the 7. Bennett, Rediscovery, pp. 90-92; Letts, Mandeville's Travels, pp. xviii-xix; and, Deluz, Le livre, pp. 14-15. 8. See Bennett, Rediscovery, p. 90; Letts, Mandeville's Travels, pp. xvii-xviii; and, Deluz, Le livre, pp. 6-8. The first known transcript of this epitaph was made in 1462, on which see Bennett, Rediscovery, p. 90, n. 1. The epitaph and the coat of arms — 'which did not represent the arms of any branch of the Mandeville family' — were destroyed at the time of the French Revolution, Letts, Mandeville's Travels, p. xviii and n. 2. A copy of the coat of arms appears as the frontispiece of Letts. The chronicle of Ralph de Rivo, dean of Tongres (ten miles from Liege) who died in 1403, refers to the death of Mandeville in 1367 rather than in 1372, and to his alleged burial in the church of the Guillemins, Bennett, Rediscovery, p. 96 and Letts, Mandeville's Travels, p. xxiii. 9. Bennett, Redicsovery, pp. 92-94 and Deluz, Le livre, pp. 16-17. 10. See Bennett, Rediscovery, pp. 96, 158-69 and Deluz, Le livre, p. 18. He was the author of a well-known treatise on the plague that was published in 1365, and apparently died in 1372, the year of the supposed death of 'Mandeville', Bennett, Rediscovery, pp. 159-60, 169. 11. See Bennett, Rediscovery, pp. 162-69, where the arguments are examined in full. 12. This passage appears in book 4 of the Myreur, which is now lost, but which was transcribed in the seventeenth century and first published in 1866 by S. Bormans, the editor of the printed edition of the whole work. See his Ly myreur des histors: chronique de Jean des Preis dit d'Outremeuse, in Corps des Chroniques Liegoises, ed. S. Bormans, 7 vols. (Brussels, 1864-87). See also, Bennett, Rediscovery, p. 92, n. 6 and Letts, Mandeville's Travels, pp. xxii-xxiii. 13. Bennett, Rediscovery, pp. 93, 99, 159. D'Outremeuse was apparently in minor orders, but married and had a son. From about 1395 he lived in a house in the cathedral precincts, on which, see G. Kurth, Etude critique sur Jean d'Outremeuse, Classe des Lettres et des Sciences morales et politiques et Classe des Beaux-Arts., Memoires, second series, 7 (Brussels, 1910), pp. 10-11. There is a detailed examination of d'Outremeuse's work and of its fictional components in Kurth, who shows, for example, that the lists of canons of Saint-Lambert that d'Outremeuse supplies for various dates were either entirely or partly fictional in character. Thus, the canons serving in 1106 were allegedly all of noble birth, comprising four sons of kings, seventeen sons of dukes and thirty-one sons of counts. D'Outremeuse also falsified his own genealogy to make it appear that he was descended from a distinguished Liege family named de Pre, ibid., (continued)

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name of Montfort, which had once been the family name of the counts of Flanders, from whom the counts of Montfort-PAmauri in France, and hence many other illustrious men were descended.14 This led d'Outremeuse to turn his interests to England. He managed, for example, to work in a supposed connection between Liege and Simon de Montfort, the earl of Leicester (d. 1265), whom he credited with having no fewer than thirty sons, four of whom were allegedly canons of the cathedral of Saint-Lambert;15 and in his detailed account of the end of the reign of Edward II, which was drawn principally from the chronicles of Jean le Bel and Jean Froissart, he sometimes substituted 'Montfort' for perfectly correct names, so that the execution in 1326 of the royal favourite, Hugh Despenser the Younger, was made to take place at 'Montfort' instead of at Hereford.16 The presence in the Myreur des histors of many references to the romantic hero Ogier the Dane — and the existence of a version of The Travels, also containing material on Ogier, which is associated with Liege and probably with Jean d'Outremeuse — is further evidence that d'Outremeuse's connection with The Travels was most likely as the adapter and embroiderer of an already existing work.17 The Travels of Sir John Mandeville accordingly poses a multitude of problems to which modern scholarship has provided a wide range of contradictory answers.18 Of the three possible explanations of the origin of the work, (continued)

pp. 76-84, 86-96. It is hardly surprising that Kurth concluded that Jean d'Outremeuse was a romancer rather than a chronicler, ibid., p. 10, and also, S. Balan, 'Comment Jean d'Outremeuse ecrit 1'histoire: etude critique des commencements du regne d'Henri de Gueldre, racontes dans Ly myreur des histors', Bulletin de la Commission Royale d'Histoire 71 (Brussels, 1902). 14. Bennett, Rediscovery, p. 99. 15. Ibid., citing Bormans, Ly myreur des histors, 4, p. 300. D'Outremeuse incorrectly referred to Simon de Montfort as conte de Lancastre, Bennett, Rediscovery, p. 99. This may reflect the fact that in d'Outremeuse's own day the successor to the earldom of Leicester was the Duke (formerly Earl until 1351) of Lancaster. Bennett also plausibly suggests that the titles of 'count of Montfort' and 'lord of Chateau Perouse,' which were allegedly borne by Mandeville were derived from the duchy of Brittany, whose dukes had acquired the title of Montfort PAmauri by marriage in 1294. There were castles named Montfort and Chateau Perouse near Rennes, the capital of the duchy, ibid., pp. 99-100. The connection between Brittany and England went back to the time of the Norman Conquest, but was especially close after 1345 because of the allegiance of John IV, Duke of Brittany, to Edward III of England, ibid., p. 100, n. 32; see also, M. Jones, Ducal Brittany, 1364-1399: Relations with England and France during the Reign of Duke John IV (Oxford, 1970), especially c. 1, and his essay 'Relations with France, 1337-1399', in England and her Neighbours: Essays in Honour of Pierre Chaplais, ed. M. Jones and M. Vale (London, 1989), pp. 239-58. 16. Bennett, Rediscovery, p. 100 and Bormans, Ly myreur des histors, 6, pp. 307-9. 17. See Kurth, Jean d'Outremeuse, pp. 83, 89; Bennett, Rediscovery, pp. 100, 106-10; and Zacher, Manual, p. 2240. There are indications that d'Outremeuse incorporated material from The Travels of Sir John Mandeville in the text of his Ly myreur des histors and borrowed material on Ogier the Dane from Ly Myreur for insertion into the Latin version of The Travels known as the vulgate, on which see especially Bennett, Rediscovery, pp. 108-9 and Letts, Mandeville's Travels, pp. xli-xlix. 18. One of the leading commentators has, for example, remarked forthrightly that 'Mandeville's Travels was written in French on the Continent, possibly at Liege and probably not by an Englishman, about 1357'; another is equally certain that the author (continued)

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that 'there really was a Sir John Mandeville, a student and something of a traveller, who wrote the book; or there was a famous traveller of that name upon whom a student of travel literature fathered the book; or the author was a student of travel literature who invented Sir John Mandeville',19 the first two have been thoroughly investigated but without any generally accepted conclusion. It may therefore be worth pursuing the third approach, assuming that Sir John Mandeville was no more than a plausible sounding name adopted by the real author of The Travels either to conceal his borrowing of material from a wide range of sources or simply as a convenient literary device.20 In his very important paper on travel in the later middle ages the late Professor Kenneth Hyde referred to a number of fourteenth-century literary works, such as Dante's Inferno, Boccaccio's Decameron and his prose romance the Filocolo, Philippe de Meziere's Songe d'un vieil pelerin, and Chaucer's Canterbury Tales, for which the author used a fictitious journey as a framework.21 Another example is the Book of Knowledge of All the World, composed by an unidentified Spanish Franciscan in about 1350, which was thought by its earliest editors to be an account of genuine travels throughout the whole world, but which is now generally regarded as a compilation from a variety of sources rather than as the product of much if any actual travel by its author.22 Even the records of genuine travel may not always be what they seem. Although there is no doubt that Marco Polo travelled through Central Asia, China and India, the account of his travels in the Divisament dou monde that was composed on his behalf by the professional writer, Rustichello of Pisa, includes imaginary scenes, some of which can be traced to an Arthurian romance written by Rustichello many years before. No doubt this treatment of the material helped to gain the interest of readers who wished to be entertained, (continued)

was an Englishman, as the text itself alleges, and that he died and was buried at Liege in 1372; while a third agrees that he was English, but argues nevertheless that the original language of The Travels was Norman-French and that it was written in England and not on the Continent, Seymour, Mandeville's Travels, p. xiii, Letts, Mandeville's Travels, pp. xxiv-v and Bennett, Rediscovery, pp. 179, 215-16. Letts, p. xvii, and Bennett, pp. 215-16, are also prepared to accept that Sir John Mandeville might have existed, whether or not he was the author of the book under his name. 19. Ibid., p. 182. 20. What follows is necessarily very speculative in nature. Conversely, since previous research has been thorough but largely inconclusive, it is just possible that an unconventional approach may open up some worthwhile new lines of research. Denis Bethell would no doubt have drawn on the depth and variety of his learning to disprove some of the suggestions offered and to make far more plausible and entertaining ones in their place. 21. J. K. Hyde, 'Real and Imaginary Journeys in the Later Middle Ages', Bulletin of the John Rylands Library, 65 (1982-83), especially pp. 132-42. See also J. Richard, 'Voyages reels et voyages imaginaires, instruments de la connaissance geographique au moyen age', in Culture et travail intellectuel dans I'occident medieval, ed. G. Hasenohr and J. Longere (Paris, 1981); J. Richard, Les recits de voyages et de pelerinages: Typologie des sources du moyen age, ed. L. Genicot, Fascicle 38 (Turnhout, 1981). 22. Book of the Knowledge of all the Kingdoms, Lands and Lordships that are in the World . . . written by a Spanish Franciscan, ed. C. Markham, Hakluyt Society, second series 29 (London, 1912). See also the discussion in Phillips, Medieval Expansion, pp. 152, 156, 158-60, 202-3, 207 and Hyde, 'Real and Imaginary Journeys', pp. 144-46.

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but it has been suggested that Rustichello was also setting out to provide an encyclopaedic account of Asia rather than a straightforward chronological narrative.23 It has also been argued, though less convincingly, that Marco Polo's original intention, before Rustichello transformed his reminiscences into the work we have today, was to write a handbook on Asia for use by other Italian merchants, who were by the end of the thirteenth century starting to travel there in some numbers.24 Although there is no evidence to support this particular idea, such a work was composed in about 1340 by the Florentine merchant, Francesco Balducci di Pegolotti, and has been published under the title of La pratica delta mercatura. Asia made up only a small part of this work, which surveyed the various places in Europe and the eastern Mediterranean in which Italian merchants carried on their affairs. Although Pegolotti had travelled extensively during his business career, he never claimed that his account of the route from the Black Sea to Peking was written entirely from first-hand knowledge.25 When viewed against the wider background of this and other fourteenth-century travels, both real and imaginary, it is easier to accept the possibility that Sir John Mandeville need not have been a genuine traveller. This also adds plausibility to the suggestion by G.F. Warner, one of the early commentators on The Travels, that the name Mandeville may have been inspired by a French romance, whose hero, a knight named Mandevie, undertook an imaginary journey.26 Little is known about the author, Jean Du Pin, except for what he says about himself in his book, whose full title is Le champ vertueux de bonne vie appelle Mandevie. Du Pin claims that he had a vision of the moral state of the world in 1324 at the age of of twenty-two, after which he began to commit his experiences to writing. He finished in 1340 at a time both of personal crisis, 'ad departir de ma ieunesse en laage de trente sept ans,' and of international upheaval caused by the conflict between Pope Benedict XII and Emperor Lewis of Bavaria and the war between the kings of France and England, as a result of which 'tribulacion e desolacion estoit parmi le monde. Et droicture estoit faillis en plusieurs lieux'. But feeling unworthy to describe the troubles of the world in his own person, he took as his fictional 23. See J. Heers, Marco Polo (Paris, 1983) and his 'De Marco Polo a Christophe Colomb: comment lire le Divisement dou monde,' Journal of Medieval History 10 (1984). See also the very useful discussion in Hyde, 'Real and Imaginary Journeys', pp. 128-32. 24. F. Borlandi, 'Alle origini del libro di Marco Polo', in Studi in onore di Amintore Fanfani, 1 (Milan, 1962). 25. Francesco Balducci Pegolotti, La Pratica della Mercatura, ed. A. Evans, The Medieval Academy of America (Cambridge, Mass., 1936; repr. New York, 1970), pp. ix-xxvi, 21-23. Although Pegolotti named his treatise as Libro di divisamenti di paesi e di misure di mercatantie, it has been known by its present title since the eighteenth century, (for which see ibid., pp. ix, 3. 26. The Buke of John Maundevill, ed. G. F. Warner, Roxburghe Club (London, 1889), pp. xxxix-xl. This is an edition of the Egerton Text of Mandeville. The introduction contains a great deal of very important material that has considerably influenced later editions. However, Warner's reference to Mandevie has not been pursued by recent scholars who have all been searching in one way or another for a real-life Mandeville, whether as author or traveller — or both.

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guide and mentor the knight Mandevie who was guardian of the royal chamber of the god of love in a noble castle situated on a white mountain.27 The idea of concealing his own identity could also have occurred to the author of The Travels while he was making use of the narrative of the German knight, William of Boldensele. Boldensele visited the Holy Land in 1332-33, apparently as a penance imposed upon him by the pope for his former support of Lewis of Bavaria, and wrote an account of his travels in 1336 at the request of Cardinal Talleyrand of Perigord. However, it is also known that Boldensele was in reality a Dominican named Otto von Neuenhausen, who adopted his mother's family name when he went on pilgrimage and then reverted both to his own name and to the religious habit after his return.28 Without a definitive study of the many surviving manuscripts it is impossible to say for certain which form of the French language was used in the original text of The Travels of Sir John Mandeville and locate its production in either England or the Continent. The oldest dated text is the Paris manuscript of 1371, written in Parisian French; but this cannot be taken as evidence either of the date or the language of the first version.29 It is, however, conceivable, as Bennett has strongly argued, that such a work could still have been written in Norman-French in England as late as the 1350s, which is generally considered to be the most likely time for its production. Such a newly composed book could easily have been read and transmitted to France for translation into the language of the French court at a time when the king of France and large numbers of other noble French captives were present in England during the years after the battle of Poitiers in 1356.30 27. Jean Du Pin, Le champ vertueux de bonne vie appelle Mandevie (Michel Le Noir, Paris, 1505 [a date assigned by the British Library to its copy]), prologue and c. 1 of the first branch. It is not clear whether the name Mandevie itself has some special significance. There is apparently no evidence to support the suggestion that Du Pin was a Cistercian monk of Vaucelles near Cambrai or the statement that he came from Liege, which is certainly a mistake. See Warner, John Maundevill, p. xxxix, n. 4. It has not been possible to confirm Warner's statement, on p. xxxix, that Du Pin says in his book that he was a native of the Bourbonnais. The text is not easy to use, so that any information of this kind can easily be overlooked. The way in which Du Pin refers to Philip VI of France as 'Sir Philip de Valois, king of France' may suggest that although he was a French-speaker, he was not a French subject and could have come from somewhere in the Low Countries, Du Pin, Mandevie, prologue. 28. Warner, John Maundevill, p. xvi and n. 1; R. Rohricht, Deutsche Pilgerreisen nach dem Heiligen Lande (Innsbruck, 1900), p. 89; C. R. Beazley, The Dawn of Modem Geography, 3 (London, 1906), pp. 393-98. The weakness of this point is that although the author of Mandeville certainly drew extensively on Boldensele's text, there is no way of proving that he was aware of Boldensele's dual identity. 29. For the most recent discussion of the different French texts, see Deluz, Le livre, pp. 25-30. See also Bennett, Rediscovery, c. 9, 'Three Families of French Manuscripts,' and c. 12, 'The Place of Writing of The Travels.' 30. Ibid., pp. 172-73, and n. 5. See also Journal de la defense du Roi Jean en Angleterre, depuis le ler Juillet 1359 jusqu'au 8 Juillet 1360, jour de son debarquement a Calais, in Comptes de I'argenterie des rois de France au XlVe siecle, ed. L. Douet-D'Arcq, for the Societe de I'historie de France (Paris, 1851; repr. New York, 1966) and R. Gazelles, Societe politique, noblesse et couronne sous Jean le Bon et Charles V (Geneva, 1982), pp. 229-37, 366-69. It is interesting (but probably not significant) to note that for a time the French king was held in Hertford Castle, not far from St. Albans from which Mandeville had allegedly started his journey.

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Although there is probably no way of proving that the original language of The Travels actually was Norman-French, there are some possible sources of inspiration for the literary form taken by the work which might be relevant either if it were in fact produced in England or if its author were someone from continental Europe with close English connections. In the mid-fourteenth century there were several precedents in recent English history for prominent individuals leaving England under unusual circumstances and travelling overseas. In April 1331, for example, the young Edward III and a few companions, allegedly disguised as merchants, crossed to France in secret for Edward to perform liege homage to Philip VI, an act which would have been politically unpopular at home if announced publicly.31 Between 1327 and 1330, there were also persistent rumours to the effect that the king's father Edward II had not died in captivity, reports culminating in the extraordinary tale brought to the attention of Edward III at a date before 1343 by the Italian cleric Manuel Fieschi that the former king had escaped to the Continent and, after many adventures which were described with much circumstantial detail, had entered a hermitage in Lombardy.32 There is little doubt that Edward II had in fact been murdered in 1327,33 and two of the men concerned in his imprisonment, Thomas Gurney and John Maltravers, had fled from England at the end of 1330. Gurney was finally run to earth in Naples in 1332, after earlier making his escape from custody in Spain,34 but Maltravers, who had been condemned for his role in bringing about the death of Edward IPs half-brother, the earl of Kent, had escaped to Germany and later lived in Flanders until he was pardoned 31. Edward's journey was not so secret as to evade the notice of English chroniclers and presumably of observers on the Continent as well, for which see, R. M. Haines, Archbishop John Stratford: Political Revolutionary and Champion of the Liberties of the English Church, ca. 1275/80-1348, in Studies and Texts 76, Pontifical Institute of Mediaeval Studies (Toronto, 1986), pp. 219-20; and, W. M. Ormrod, The Reign of Edward III: Crown and Political Society in England, 1327-1377 (New Haven and London, 1990), pp. 8, 216. 32. Ibid., pp. 5, 46; Haines, John Stratford, pp. 208-13; G. P. Cuttino and T. W. Lynam, 'Where is Edward II?', Speculum 53 (1978), pp. 522-44. The Fieschi letter came to light in the nineteenth century in a register of the French diocese of Maguelonne, dated 1368. The Latin text was published by its discoverer, A. Germain, in Lettre de Manuel de Fiesque concernant les dernieres annees du roi d'Angleterre Edouard II, (Montpellier, 1878), pp. 14-16, and reprinted in Memoires de la Societe Archeologique de Montpellier, 7 (1881). The text and a translation can be found more conveniently in Cuttino and Lynam, 'Where is Edward II?', pp. 526-27, 537-38. It is still an open question whether the letter is authentic or not. However, rumours about the survival of Edward II must have circulated widely since in 1338 a certain William le Galeys was arrested at Cologne for claiming to be Edward II and was escorted to Edward III who was then at Coblenz for a meeting with Emperor Lewis of Bavaria, on which see ibid., p. 530, n. 43 and Haines, John Stratford, p. 213, n. 112. 33. Cuttino and Lynam's 'Where is Edward II?' is only the latest attempt to suggest that Edward II did survive after 1327. The balance of evidence is, however, that the body buried in Gloucester Abbey really was that of the deposed king. See T. F. Tout, 'The Captivity and Death of Edward of Carnarvon', in The Collected Papers of Thomas Frederick Tout, 3 (Manchester, 1934) and Haines, John Stratford, pp. 208-10. 34. See J. Hunter, 'On the Measures Taken for the Apprehension of Sir Thomas Gournay, one of the Murderers of King Edward the Second, and on their Final Issue,' Archaeologia 27 (London, 1838), pp. 278-86 and Cuttino and Lynam, 'Where is Edward II?', pp. 524-25, 541-42. Unlike his companion, John Maltravers, who was never charged with the crime, Gurney was accused and convicted of having murdered Edward II.

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in 1351 and died in England in 1364.35 It is just possible that some of these events helped to give the author of The Travels the idea of making his hero an Englishman; and also that the fugitive existence of John Maltravers may have influenced his choice of the name Mandeville, a plausible one with close English affinities.36 It is tempting to think that Jean d'Outremeuse's later invention of the story that Mandeville had fled England after being involved in the death of a count (earl) was also inspired by the real life career of John Maltravers, with its culmination in nearby Flanders.37 The serious doubts about the role of the Liege chronicler, Jean d'Outremeuse, at first sight make it less likely that the book was written in the Low Countries. Even if d'Outremeuse can almost certainly be ruled out as the original author of The Travels of Sir John Mandeville, it is nonetheless conceivable that another writer from the Low Countries was responsible. One possible pointer in this direction is the known use by the author of The Travels of the important collection of travel literature, Le livre des merveilles, which was made by the Benedictine monk Jean le Long of Ypres in the county of Flanders in 1351.38 Since the thirteenth century close commercial and diplomatic relations had existed between England and the various counties and duchies of this part of Europe. Here Edward I had found many of his allies during his war with France in the 1290s, cementing the alliances by judicious marriages between 35. For an account of the career of Maltravers see DNB, 12 (London, 1909), pp. 891-92 and Complete Peerage, 8 (revised edition, London, 1932), pp. 581-85. See also Cuttino and Lynam, 'Where is Edward II?', pp. 530, 539-43. In 1334 Maltravers contacted Edward III because he 'was desirous to reveal to him many things concerning his honour and the estate and well-being of the realm'. In 1345 he met Edward III in Flanders and submitted to him, having apparently in the meantime acted as an agent on Edward's behalf in the Low Countries, for which see Calendar of Patent Rolls, 1330-34, p. 535 and 1343-45, p. 535. It is likely that he had become well known in the area. It would be very interesting to know more of Maltravers' activities during his exile from England. 36. Maltravers had also fled from England in 1322, the year in which Mandeville allegedly began his own journey, in the aftermath of Edward IPs defeat of his baronial enemies at the battle of Boroughbridge. He later joined Edward's estranged wife, Queen Isabella, and her lover, Roger Mortimer of Wigmore, in France and accompanied them in their invasion of England in 1326. Since the invasion was prepared in Hainault and the invasion fleet sailed from Dordrecht in Holland, it is likely that Maltravers spent some time in the Low Countries at this earlier stage of his career. See N. Fryde, The Tyranny and Fall of Edward II, 1321-1326 (Cambridge, 1979), pp. 180-82 and Haines, John Stratford, p. 169. If the earl of Hereford had escaped the battle of Boroughbridge in 1322, he would have fled to Hainault where he had relatives in the right of his wife, Elizabeth, who had been married to an earlier count of Hainault and was the daughter of Edward I. See Phillips, Aymer de Valence, p. 224, and n. 6 above. 37. I am well aware that my line of argument is open to the charge of Tluellenism' so wittily defined and directed against modern literary critics and scholars by Professor Richard Levin, New Readings vs. Old Plays: Recent Trends in the Reinterpretation of English Renaissance Drama (Chicago and London, 1979), appendix, 'The Figures of Fluellen', pp. 209-29. He writes, p. 209, citing Henry V (Act IV, Scene 7, lines 22^46), 'The technique which I call Fluellenism was not invented by Shakespeare's Welsh captain, but it is beautifully epitomised in the mode of reasoning he employs when he is inspired at Agincourt to undertake a demonstration that King Henry is a second Alexander the Great'. Nonetheless, the career of John Maltravers was an extraordinary one that might repay close examination. 38. Deluz, Le livre, pp. 63-5, 70-1, 123; Bennett, Rediscovery, pp. 82-3, and above, n. 5. Jean le Long's work also provides a terminus post quern for the composition of The Travels.

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his daughters Elizabeth, Eleanor and Margaret and the counts of Holland and Bar and the duke of Brabant respectively.39 The relationships had continued during the reign of Edward II,40 being greatly strengthened by the marriage in January 1328 of the young Edward III to Philippa, daughter of William, Count of Hainault.41 Like his grandfather, Edward III made alliances in the Low Countries to assist him in his own war with France.42 Between 1338 and 1340 Edward and his court were also resident in the county of Flanders where two of his sons, Lionel of Antwerp and John of Gaunt, were born.43 Under these circumstances even a local observer without a close connection with England or its court could hardly have avoided being aware of England and its affairs.44 There were however at least three writers of Low Countries origin who did have such connections and whose credentials as the possible author of the The Travels should therefore be examined.45 The first and least likely is Jean de la Motte, a poet from Hainault, who was in the entourage of Queen Philippa in the 1330s. Too little is known about his career and 39. See E. B. Fryde, 'Financial Resources of Edward I in the Netherlands, 1294-8', Revue Beige de philologie et d'histoire 40 (Brussels, 1962), reprinted in his Studies in Medieval Trade and Finance (London, 1983), and Phillips, Aymer de Valence, pp. 113-14. 40. The closeness is revealed very clearly in the extraordinary story of Edward IPs efforts to have himself anointed with the Holy Oil of St. Thomas of Canterbury that had been brought to his attention by Nicholas of Wisbech, chaplain to Edward's sister Margaret, duchess of Brabant, on which see, J. R. S. Phillips, 'Edward II and the Prophets,' in England in the Fourteenth Century, ed. W. M. Ormrod (Woodbridge, Suffolk, and Dover, NH., 1986), pp. 196-99. According to the Fieschi letter, Brabant was one of the places visited by the former Edward II during his continental wanderings after 1327, Cuttino and Lynam, 'Where is Edward II?', p. 538. 41. See Haines, John Stratford, pp. 220-21. Furthermore, Edward's future father-in-law had provided troops and shipping to assist the landing in England in 1326, N. Fryde, Financial Resources, pp. 182-83. 42. These events are described very thoroughly in H. S. Lucas, The Low Countries and the Hundred Years' War, 132^1347 (Ann Arbor, 1929; repr. Philadelphia, 1976). See also F. Trautz, Die Konige von England und das Reich, 1272-1377 (Heidelberg, 1961) and Fryde, 'Financial Resources' 45 (1967). There are two separate papers by E.B. Fryde in Revue Beige de philologie et d'histoire, 40 (1962) and 45 (1967). See also D. Nicholas Medieval Flanders (London, 1992), pp. 217-24. 43. Edward's activities are recorded in great detail in The Wardrobe Book of William de Norwell, 12 July 1338 to 27 May 1340, ed. Mary Lyon, Bryce Lyon, Henry S. Lucas, with the collaboration of Jean de Sturler, Academic royale de Belgique, commission royale d'histoire (Brussels, 1983). 44. For example, the chronicler Jan de Klerk of Antwerp composed a rhyming narrative of Edward Ill's expedition to Flanders and Brabant, De Brabantsche Yeesten, of Rymkronyk van Brahand, by Jan de Klerk, van Antwerpen, and the French title being Les gestes des dues de Brabant, by Jean de Klerk, d'Anvers, ed. J. F. Willems, Collection de Chroniques Beiges Inedites, Commission Royale d'Histoire, 1 (Brussels, 1839), p. xvii. An earlier chronicler, Jan van Heelu, wrote a poem in 1291 or 1292 for presentation on her arrival in Brabant to Edward I's daughter Margaret, who was betrothed to the son of Duke John I, Rymkronyk van Jan van Hellu betreffende den Slag van Woeringen van het Jaer 1288, ed. J. F. Willems, Collection de Chroniques Beiges Inedites, Commission Royale d'Histoire (Brussels, 1836). The intention was to show her the heroic exploits of her future father-in-law, p. viii. 45. For completeness, Jean le Long of Ypres and John Maltravers should perhaps be added to the list. However, in the one case there is no evidence of any particular knowledge of or interest in England, while in the latter there is no evidence of the literary talent needed to write The Travels.

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dates for it to be worth speculating further.46 The second is Jean Froissart of Valenciennes in Hainault, who was born in the 1330s and died in 1410 after writing one of the most famous of all medieval chronicles. Froissart went to England in or about 1360 in search of a patron at court, in particular his compatriot Queen Philippa. He was an admirer of England and of Edward III and his eldest son, Edward the Black Prince; and he travelled widely in England, learning much about its recent history. Froissart might have had the talent to produce The Travels, but it is stretching probability to suggest that even so industrious a writer as Froissart could have created such a work so early in his career.47 The one remaining candidate is the fourteeenth-century chronicler, Jean le Bel, who came from a wealthy family in Liege. Born in about 1290, he entered the church and by 1313 had become a canon of the cathedral of Saint-Lambert. In 1327 he went to England in company with John of Hainault, the uncle of Queen Philippa, was favourably impressed by Edward III and in the 1350s wrote a chronicle covering the period since the accession of Edward I in 1272, which he later extended to 1361. He made his will in August 1369 and died in Liege in February 1370. His chronicle was well known to his contemporaries: Froissart used it extensively for the early part of his own chronicle beginning with the dramatic events of the 1320s, as did Jean d'Outremeuse, for his Myreur des histors.48 It is unknown whether Jean le Bel also possessed the necessary breadth of knowledge from wide reading to have written The Travels, but he was certainly mature enough to have done so in the 1350s or 1360s and could easily have used his experience of England to provide the background for Mandeville and his career.49 Could Jean d'Outremeuse therefore have borrowed 46. De la Motte's name is included only as an illustration of the literary connections that could exist between England and the Low Countries. There is no reason to think that he is in any way significant in relation to the authorship of The Travels. For references to him see Oeuvres de Froissart, ed. Kervyri de Lettenhove, 1, part 1 (Brussels, 1870), 'Introduction', c. 6, 'La cour d'Angleterre', pp. 76-7. 47. For Froissart's connections with the English court and his extensive knowledge of English affairs, see ibid., 'Introduction', c. 6, 'La cour d'Angleterre' and c. 9, 'Voyages en Ecosse et dans le Pays de Galles'. In 1366 Froissart made a tour of the west of England with Edward Despenser, during which he visited Berkeley Castle and asked an aged squire about the captivity and death of Edward II there in 1327, ibid., pp. 148-50, and ibid., 2 (1322-1339) (Brussels, 1867), p. 86. However, Froissart says nothing about the manner of Edward's death. On Froissart, see also A. Gransden, Historical Writing in England, ii, c. 1307 to the Early Sixteenth Century (London, 1982), pp. 89-92; J. Taylor, English Historical Literature in the Fourteenth Century (Oxford, 1987), pp. 154-62; the very important collection of papers, Froissart: Historian, ed. J. J. N. Palmer (Woodbridge and Totowa, 1981); and M. Galway, 'Froissart in England', University of Birmingham Historical Journal (1959-60), pp. 18-35. 48. Chronique de Jean le Bel, 1, ed. J. Viard and E. Deprez, Societe de I'histoire de France (Paris, 1904), pp. i-xlv; Gransden, Historical Writing, pp. 83-89; and Taylor, English Historical Literature, pp. 163-65. 49. The Latin letter of dedication to Edward III which appears in some of the French manuscripts of The Travels which are preserved in England, Bennett, Rediscovery, pp. 85, 125-26, 150, 265-66, might be explicable as the work of an English author or interpolator, but it could also have been written by a continental author such as Jean le Bel with a particular admiration for Edward III. If The Travels really was composed in or around 1356, as claimed in (continued)

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from another work by Jean le Bel, a citizen of the same city, connected with the same cathedral, whose death took place only two years before that of the fictional Mandeville in 1372, and could that work have been The Travels of Sir John Mandeville^ All this is little more than guesswork which does not necessarily bring a solution to the problem of authorship of The Travels any closer. In a sense the answer does not matter. Whoever he was, and whatever the actual sources of his inspiration, the author of The Travels of Sir John Mandeville was an artist of a high calibre whose work caught the imagination of readers all over fourteenth- and fifteenth-century Europe and has never ceased to fascinate down to the present day.

(continued)

many of the manuscripts, this would be consistent both with the military success of Edward III at Poitiers and with a period at which Jean le Bel is known to have been writing. 50. A linguistic expert trained in modern computer techniques of textual analysis could possibly confirm — or perhaps swiftly demolish — the conjectures made in this essay. There is also the important objection that, if The Travels of Sir John Mandeville was written on the Continent rather than in England, why did the author give Mandeville such a specific English birthplace as St. Albans? See Bennett, Rediscovery, pp. 210-12 and Gransden, Historical Writing, p. 127 and n. 69.

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12

The Debate over Nobility: Dante, Nicholas Upton and Bartolus Maurice Keen

Tuit enim quidam nomine Dancy, de Florencia, vulgaris poeta, laudabilis recollendeque memoriae, qui circa hoc fecit quandam cantilenam in vulgari, La doulce ryme damour'.1 These are the words of Nicholas Upton, canon of Salisbury, in his De studio militari, written about 1446. They are part of the discussion that, in that work, he devotes to the subject of nobility: and he goes on to quote Dante's famous reference to Emperor Frederic H's definition of nobility, that it means ancient riches adorned with fine manners. As G.W. Coopland, writing of Upton, remarked, it is hard not to wish to probe further into what lies behind this surprising quotation from Convivio IV.2 I thought the same when I read Coopland's comment, several years ago now: this essay is about what one finds if one does probe further. But first, who was Nicholas Upton? He was a highly literate English cleric of the fifteenth century.3 Educated at Winchester and New College, where he graduated as a Bachelor of Civil Law, he entered in the early 1420s the household of that great soldier, Thomas Montagu, earl of Salisbury; he was present with him at the field of Verneuil in 1424 and continued in his service until the earl's death before Orleans in 1428, and was one of his executors. After his master's death he remained for some time in France, in the service of other lords; sometime in the 1430s he returned to England and to a comfortable series of ecclesiastical preferments; he became rector of Chedzoy in Somerset, a prebendary of Wells, and finally precentor of Salisbury Cathedral. Beyond that we do not know much about him. His will shows that he amassed a small library, which included a copy of the Roman de la rose , also the De proprietatibus rerum of Bartholomew the Englishman and Augustine's Super Johannem, the two last of which he bequeathed to his old school, Winchester. But it does not seem likely that he had ever seen,

1. Nicholas Upton, De studio militari, ed. Bysshe (London, 1654), p. 64; hereafter cited as Upton. Upton has francicised 'la dolce rime d'amor' of Dante's original Italian. 2. G. W. Coopland, The Tree of Battles of Honore Bonet (Liverpool, 1949), p. 23, n. 42. 3. See R. Dennys, The Heraldic Imagination (London, 1975), who offers on pp. 77-79 an excellent review of Upton's career, which I have here abbreviated.

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let alone read, Dante's Convivio. Indeed he seems, from his version of the title, to have thought that it was written in French.4 He must rather, as I thought when I began to follow Coopland's lead, have borrowed his quote from someone else; and this seemed intrinsically likely, since the De studio militari is very largely a pastiche — a not unskilled pastiche — of borrowings from other works. Upton's long section on heraldry, which fills most of Books III and IV of his work, was largely borrowed from the treatise of an earlier English writer, whom he calls Johannes de Bado Aureo, and whose identity is not known.5 When dealing with the duties of knights in Book I, he lifted substantial passages from Vegetius and from John of Salisbury's Policraticus.6 Elsewhere he repeats verbatim long sections from the works of the great Italian (and French) lawyers — in particular from the Tractatus de hello of John of Legnano7 and from the Roman law Commentaries of Bartolus of Sassoferrato.8 The views of Dante on nobility are also quoted — including the self same passage, somewhat less clearly identified — in the works of another writer on nobility who was almost exactly Upton's contemporary. This is Diego de Valera, whose Espejo de la verdadera nohleza was written c. 1440.9 This was a popular and influential work, and was translated into French (c. 1460) for the Burgundian court by Hue de Salves (who ascribes the relevant passage to one Eldante).10 A number of copies of this translation survive, including one that was in the ducal library of Philip the Good, and another that was executed for that famous expert in chivalry, Philip's councillor and councillor to Charles the Bold after him, Louis de Gruthyse.11 Perhaps I should mention here that Upton's work was likewise translated, into English, by John Blount, a kinsman of the Lord Mountjoy, and that the Latin original was dedicated to the great bibliophile, Humphrey Duke of Gloucester; there is a kind of parallel.12 4. John Blount, who translated Upton's work into English, c. 1500, certainly thought so: 'Ther was sometyme a famouse poete in fflorence callyd Danty which made a certen dyttey concerning this matter whych was namyd in ffrenche after thys wyse . . . " The title is left blank in MS, Bodleian Library, Oxford, MS Eng. Misc. D227, fo. 53v. 5. E. Jones, Medieval Heraldry (Cardiff, 1943), who prints John's treatise along with a Welsh translation of it, argues for the authorship of John Trevor, bishop of St. Asaph's, who died in 1410. The suggestion is attractive, but not at all points convincing. 6. Thus Upton, book 1, c. 5 (p. 12 of Bysshe's edition) is from line 17 borrowed from the Policraticus, book 6, c. 3 (ed. C.C.J. Webb, Oxford, 1909, pp. 9-11); p. 13 line 5 picks up Policraticus, book 6, c. 19 (Webb, pp. 54-5); book 1, c. 7, line 4 follows the Policraticus, book 6, c. 12 (Webb, p. 28) and takes the rest of its material from book 6, c. 12 (Webb, p. 28), book 6, c. 2 (Webb, p. 9) and book 6, c. 14 (Webb, p. 37). 7. Coopland, Tree of Battles (p. 23, n. 42), summarises the borrowings from John of Legnano's Tractatus de hello, ed. T. E. Holland (Oxford, 1917). 8. See below, nn. 18ff. I have also found substantial verbatim borrowings from Hostiensis, Summa aurea; from Durandus, Speculum juris, and the commentaries of Dynus. 9. In Prosistas castellanos del siglo XV, ed. M. Penna (Madrid, 1959), pp. 89-113. 10. Qui sa vertu anohlist, ed. A. Vanderjagt (Groningen, 1981), pp. 237-83. 11. Brussels, Bib. Royale, MS 10977-9 was formerly in the ducal library; Paris, Bib. Nat., MS Fr. 1280 belonged to Louis de Gruthyse. 12. On Blount, see the introduction to F. P. Barnard, The Esssential Portions of Nicholas (continued)

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Diego de Valera, the author of the Espejo, was a Castilian knight of some distinction and of considerable learning.13 Born in 1412, he had a distinguished and international career in arms, fighting in 1431 against the Moors of Andalusia, and later in the 1430s against the Hussites of Bohemia under the leadership of Albert of Austria, the collar of whose order he bore. We also know, from Olivier de la Marche, that he took part in the famous pas d'armes of the Tree of Charlemagne, arranged by the Burgundian seigneur Pierre de Bauffremont, near Dijon in 1443. He was besides a prolific writer, whose works exhibit a considerable knowledge of classical as well as of contemporary writing, and who clearly was also well acquainted with the great Italian juristic authors. He wrote on heraldry, on duels and challenges, in defence of women and on the virtues, and compiled a chronicle of Castile. As Upton was a cleric with an unusually considerable experience and expertise in military affairs and chivalry, so Valera was a knight with an unusually wide knowledge of letters, and not just of courtly letters (his work in defence of women was much indebted to Christine de Pisan) but of Latin literature and Roman law too. Though they are entirely independent of one another, the works of Upton and Valera are similar in a number of ways. Both treated the subject of nobility from the same angle: their interest was essentially in the title to and justification for the privileges and dignity of nobility, which both viewed as a practical, legal and social issue, rather than as a philosophical and ethical one, as Dante had done. Both had a substantial knowledge of and interest in heraldry, practically acquired. Upton tells of how he had designed arms — argent three oxes heads sable — for a soldier who was ennobled for his gallant conduct at the battle of Verneuil, where he was wounded in the genitals (oxen being gelded beasts):14 Valera tells of how he had been present when the Emperor Sigismund, at a tournament, gave arms to one Orsalamin, the son of a butcher.15 Both relayed much recondite information about the symbolic significances of tinctures and metals in heraldry. More important to my purpose, both used very much the same sort of sources to put together their legal-cum-chivalrous handbooks, and used them in a similar way, often borrowing substantial passages more or less verbatim from Latin authors (whom Diego, of course, had usually to translate). Both for instance drew heavily on writers of classical history, especially on Valerius Maximus, and on some other antique authors, notably Cicero and Vegetius. Both knew their Aristotle adequately, principally the Ethics and the (continued) Upton's De studio militari, Translated by John Blount (Oxford, 1931). It is not certain which, if any, of the surviving MSS of Upton's original was the presentation copy for Humphrey of Gloucester; the Holkham copy (Bodleian Library, Oxford, MS Holkham misc. 31) is a possibility, on which see Dennys, Heraldic Imagination, p. 80. 13. Vanderjagt, Qui sa vertu anohlist, summarises Valera's career on pp. 225-28. Se as well L. de Torre y Franco Romero, 'Mosen Diego de Valera: su vida y obras', Boletin de la academia de la historia 64 (1914), pp. 50-83, 133-68, 249-76, 365-412. 14. Upton, p. 154. 15. Valera, Espejo, p. 108.

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Politics; they both quote extensively from Scripture and from the Fathers, and occasionally from St. Thomas (it is naturally very hard here to know what respectively they had at first and what at second hand, from others). Above all both borrowed liberally from the Italian jurists and in particular from Bartolus of Sassoferrato, who was widely known to all writers who were interested, as they were, in heraldry, on account of his Tractatus de insigniis et armis, which may reasonably rank as the first attempt to treat heraldry seriously from an academic point of view.16 These are the sort of authorities that one expects learned writers on such a topic as nobility to rely upon. It is, however, rather remarkable, so it seemed to me as it had to Coopland, to find these two authors quoting Dante as an authority on a par with them. All their other authorities wrote in Latin, he alone in vulgari, and neither usually thought of vernacular writers as authoritative. Upton, as we know, possessed a copy of Jean de Meun's Roman de la rose, which treats extensively of nobility:17 he did not, however, refer to Jean at any point in his treatment of the subject in the De studio militari. Dante thus stands among their authorities in a class of his own. Yet through their works his views on nobility, as expressed in the Convivio, were conveyed widely to aristocratic circles in northern Europe, as being of significance to those concerned with the justification and explanation of the existing juridical dignity and privileges of nobility. That is what makes it 'hard not to wish to probe further' their deployment of his judgement alongside the views of distinctly different authorities, the doctors of law and theology and the classical philosophers. The reason, which I for one was slower to tumble to than I should have been, is of course that they both did so because their authority, Bartolus, had done so before them. Both, as I have explained, borrowed very freely from this jurist, and both knew of Dante's views on nobility because of the close scrutiny to which they had been subjected by Bartolus in his commentary on the title De dignitatibus in the twelfth book of the Codex (Cod. 12, 1:1).18 Indeed, the words of Upton's which I quoted at the start of this essay prove on inspection to be no more than a slightly contracted version of Bartolus' own words, omitting some Italian that, I take it, Upton could not understand. The words in fact pin down a point where he is beginning to lift his matter from Bartolus, more or less verbatim but with omissions, for a page and a half. Valera's text at the corresponding point is not related in quite the same word for word manner to that of the Italian jurist,19 but this, as far as I can see, is largely because he had to translate (and precis) Bartolus into his own tongue. Neither author adds anything to what Bartolus quoted

16. The Tractatus is edited by Jones in Medieval Heraldry, pp. 224-52. 17. Jean de Meun, La Roman de la rose, ed. E. Langlois (Paris, 1914-24), lines 18,607-946. 18. Bartolus, Commentaria in Codicem (Basle, 1562) pp. 939-45. The scrutiny of Dante's opinions commences on p. 941, col. 1. 19. Valera, Espejo, p. 90.

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from Dante, and both repeat his comments on what Dante had to say without adding anything significant thereto. How Bartolus came to know of Dante's opinions raises no problems. He was a highly literate and civilised man, widely read outside his own subject; so his knowledge of the great poet of the previous Italian generation comes as no surprise (though it is a little more interesting that he should look to the Convivio, which does not seem to have circulated very widely at first). Indeed, it would have been very surprising if he had not known him, for his principal master was the great jurist of the previous generation, Cino da Pistoia,20 who was Dante's friend and a poet in his own right (maybe that is why Bartolus did know the Convivio}. This personal connection aside, we have other evidence that Dante's works were found interesting by the leading Italian civilians, largely no doubt because of their vigorous defence of the empire and of the authority of the imperial laws. John of Legnano, for instance, devoted the major part of a treatise that he put together on the rights of the church in Bologna to a refutation of Dante's allegations against the papacy in the Monarchia, that it had usurped imperial right: it is a papalist universalist tract in reply to Dante's imperialist one.21 Nevertheless, I think it may be worth pursuing a little further why it may have been that Bartolus paid so much attention to Dante's views on nobility specifically, and for this reason if for no other, that it was in consequence of that attention that Dante's opinions on this topic became known in circles where the Comedy was not read, and in which his views on the rights of the empire would not have seemed of any great significance, circles such as those for which Upton and Valera wrote. The matter is interesting for another reason too, the question of what it was about Dante's conclusions about nobility that drew attention to them. They were not quite as novel, I think, as is often claimed. Both Batkin and Vanossi, for instance, see his insistence on the theme, that nobility is acquired not through birth but only through virtuous living, as a reflection of the new and dynamic ideals of the civic bourgeois, opposing to the old idea of hereditary nobility a new, caste-free conception of nobility of spirit.22 This way of looking at things fits in well with Vanossi's suggestions that Dante's ideas on the subject reflect those of that other bourgeois, Jean de Meun, who was equally opposed to the idea that nobility can truly be an inherited quality: 'Is he a gentleman who would claim name and praise because he has inherited nobility from others, though he has not their merit or prowess? I say no'.23 Vanossi may be right here in thinking that the canzone that introduces Tractate IV of the Convivio has echoes of Jean de Meun (via the Fiore) :24 but 20. J. L. J. van de Kamp, Bartolus van Saxo Ferrato, 1313-1357 (Amsterdam, 1936), p. 6. 21. L. Rossi, Dagli scritti inediti di Giovanni da Lagnano (Bologna, 1898), pp. 20-51. 22. L. M. Batkin, Dante e la societa Italiana del 1300 (Bari, 1970), pp. 143-59; L. Vanossi, Dante e il 'Roman de la rose' (Florence, 1979), pp. 32, 58-59, 309-10. 23. Le Roman de la rose, lines 18,755-58. 24. See Vanossi, Dante, passim.

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to suggest that to relate nobility to character and virtue rather than to birth was either a new idea or a specifically urban or bourgeois one is, I believe, misleading. Andreas the Chaplain, writing not for a bourgeois but for a clerical and courtly audience, put almost precisely the same point as Jean and Dante back in the twelfth century: 'the law says that in the beginning nobility came in only from good character and manly worth and courtesy', he wrote, adding that he who gets his nobility 'only from himself is to be preferred always to him 'who derives it as a sort of inheritance from those from whom he gets his being'.25 The essence of Dante's future view is here stated quite distinctly. An almost exactly similar view is put in another courtly work, of the early thirteenth century, the Prose Lancelot, in a discussion to which Elspeth Kennedy has drawn attention. 'They tell me all people are descended from one man and one woman', says Lancelot, 'so I do not understand how one can have more gentility than another . . . unless he earns it for himself in the same way that men win lands and honours. But know that if a great heart makes a gentleman, I shall hope to make myself among the most gentle'.26 Here the argument is presented that nobility cannot come simply from birth, because we all descend from more than one ancestor, Adam; it is the very same argument with which Dante later made such play, showing that its denial must imply descent from more than one original and in effect posits the existence of two different species of men,27 an opinion at once absurd and contrary to Christian teaching. So it was not because of its novelty, I would argue, that Dante's view of nobility caught the eye (and in particular the eye of Bartolus), nor yet because it reflected a 'bourgeois' spirit; it must have been for some other reason. What made Tractate IV of the Convivio impressive to a learned man, perhaps especially a jurist, in a way that Jean de Meun, for instance, did not similarly impress, was, I believe, the manner of its presentation. In it Dante brought to bear upon the subject of nobility the whole weight of his very considerable erudition, and gave his references. He probed and analysed the topic with all the latest weapons of philosophical teaching, of theological speculation, of literary and juristic authority, and referred over and over again to his sources, in a suitably learned manner. Indeed, I think it could be said that, outside purely theological writing, his was the first really serious academic treatment of the subject. In this sense, it really was novel and original. It caught the eye of the jurist, and very properly, because it lifted the discussion of nobility, as a status significant in social and civic terms, on to a new plane. This is brought out by the very great seriousness with which Bartolus took Dante's arguments, and by the way in which his own, different view of the matter seems to have developed out of his analysis of them. Thus 25. Andreas Capellanus, The Art of Courtly Love, trans. J. J. Parry (New York, 1941), p. 38. 26. E. Kennedy, 'Social and Political Ideas in the French Prose Lancelot', Medium Aevum 26 (1957), pp. 102-4. 27. Convivio, iv, 15: 'E senza dubbio forte riderebbe Aristoteli udendo fare spezie due de Pumana generazione'.

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Bartolus seizes on Dante's distinction between nobility as applied to men, and as applied to animals, plants or minerals, and identifies the same point of difference, that in them nobility cannot be generated as it is in man.28 A noble pearl cannot be made more or less noble, but a man who is not noble may become so. He picks up what Dante has to say about our common descent from a single common ancestor and expands it: if it is really argued that that is not the true story of our origins, he points out, the implied conclusion will savour of the Averroist opinion, that 'mundus fuit ab aeterno', that there was no first beginning; and that is contrary to faith.29 Bartolus again sees the point of Dante's objection to the defenders of hereditary nobility, that in implying that base ancestry can be wiped out by oblivion they must seem to be suggesting a series of logical absurdities (e.g., that oblivion can be the cause of nobility) — and makes his reply to it, introducing a legal concept. Of course oblivion does not obliterate past rusticity, but prescription can establish present nobility.30 The author of the Songe du vergier, another writer who like Upton and Valera borrowed his juristic view of nobility from Bartolus (and through his reading of him likewise encountered Dante's opinion), clarifies the point here in his expansion of it. It would indeed be absurd, he says, to suggest that the king, when he issues letters patent of nobility, can be supposed to ennoble the plebeian ancestor of him that he ennobles, or that the new noble's neighbours will forget his original rusticity. But in the next generation the plebeian's children will live nobly, and their children will be known to be descended from men who did so, and will be recognised as noble by birth by their neighbours — and right is made by recognition of this sort.31 28. Ibid., iv, 14: 'in ciascuna spezie di cose veggiamo 1'imagine di nobilitade e di viltade; onde spesse volte diciamo . . . uno nobile falcone e uno vile, e una nobila margherita e una vile . . . in loro generazione di nobilitade essere non puo'. Compare Bartolus's passage commencing 'Exemplum in falcone, aliquis dicitur gentilis . . . idem de caeteris animalibus, idem de pomis', Commentaria in Codicem, p. 942, col. 1. 29. Convivio, iv, 15, and Canzone, lines 69-73: Ancor segue de cio che innanzi ho messo Che siam tutti gentili o ver villani, O che non fosse ad uom comminciamento, Ma cio io non consento, Ned ellino altressi, se son cnstiam. Compare Barolus: 'Ex hoc . . . sequeretur quod omnes sumus nobiles, vel omnes sumus ignobiles, quia si primus parens fuit nobilis ergo omnes descendentes . . . aut ipsi habent dicere quod mundus fuit ab aeterno, quod est falsum et contra fidem Christianum'. 30. Convivio, iv, 14: 'E se 1'avversario pertinacemente si difendisse, dicendo che bene vogliono questa transmutazione fare quando lo basso stato de li antecessori corre in oblivione . . . rispondo cosi; che di cio che dicono seguitano quattro grandissimi inconvenienti, si che buona ragione essere non puo'. Compare Bartolus: 'Pone rusticus incipit esse probus homo, et valens, et tenere statum nobilitatis. Certe ipse non est nobilis, quia ilia rusticitas non potuit purgari plene et perfecte in eo, sed filii et nepotes sui erunt nobiliores, ut tota die videmus in rusticis provenientibus ad aliquem gradum civitatis. Unde ex patre ignobili, tamen valente, nascitur filius vel nepos nobilis, et sic non praesupponit quod poeta dicebat, et posito quod praesupponeret, non sequeretur quod illae essent falsae consequentiae', Commentaria in Codicem, p. 941, col. 1. 31. Songe du vergier, ed. M. Schnerb-Lievre (Paris, 1982), p. 306. The French of the Songe seems to be clearer here than the Latin of the Somnium viridarii, on which it is based.

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As these examples show, Bartolus sometimes accepted Dante's reasoning, sometimes pushed it further, and sometimes — more often, in fact — rejected it. Where Dante was most influential on him, it seems to me, was in leading Bartolus forward to his most important conclusion, that with regard to men nobility cannot be regarded in a unitary way, but that one must distinguish between different kinds of nobility, of which he identified three.32 Dante's argument, that nobility was a capacity implanted by God in the souls of individual men, which as it grew expressed itself in virtuous living and was the root and cause of virtue, became the basis of his definition of the first kind of nobility that he recognised. This he described as 'theological nobility', which to him distinguished the elect to eternal felicity from those foreknown to damnation. The root of salvation here is implanted by God, as Dante suggested, and its fruition is election to bliss, corresponding to the true felicity considered by Dante to be the end of human life.33 Following Dante's leads, Bartolus again used him, and Aristotle, as guides in defining his second kind of nobility, which he called 'natural nobility'. This he explained in terms of the natural capacities (or virtues) of individual men, which make one aptus dominari, and so noble, another fit only for mechanical arts: this kind of nobility, that of the natural ruler, we jurists would define as introduced by the jus gentium (the jus naturale gentium, to give its full title), he says, since the distinction between the natural ruler and the mechanic is apprehended by natural reason. Dante, Bartolus here implies, distinguished inadequately between the first two kinds of nobility. If we follow him, we will be in danger of concluding that one who is fit only for mechanical arts or the rustic life has not implanted in him the capacities which fit man to eternal felicity,34 and that cannot be so: in the Kingdom of Heaven we know that the last shall be first. Bartolus was clearly suspicious, and perhaps justly, that Dante's celebration of philosophy might cover a tendency too elitist to find room in heaven for the ploughman who had no aptitude for ruling but lived virtuously in his own calling. When it came to natural nobility, considered on its own, he was, however, quite prepared to accept a distinction of intellectual capacities as relevant to social distinctions, and to accept too that the differences were individual and not a matter of breeding. With regard to this second kind of nobility what Dante said was quite right, he thought, and he took his stand explicitly with him: 'et cum hac determinatione posset esse vera quod dicit poeta'.35 32. Bartolus: 'Dico, pro declaratione praesentis, quod habemus ponere tres nobilitates. Prima est nobilitas theologica . . . Secunda est nobilitas naturalis. Tertia est nobilitas politica et civilis', Commentaria in Codicem, p. 942, col. 1. 33. Ibid., p. 942, col. 1: 'de prima theologica et spirituali est quaerendum in conspectu aeterni judicis, apud quern nulla est obumbratio . . . ut dicit poeta praedictus. Nam apud Deum est nobilis omnis, qui est in gratia . . . Item, omnis ille qui est virtuosus, dico de ilia virtute quae facit hominem felicem'. 34. Ibid., p. 942, col. 1: 'Praeterea, si verum esset dictum ejus, sequeretur quod nullus plebeius esset virtuosus, vel praedestinatus ad salutem'. 35. Ibid., p. 942, col. 2: 'Secundo modo potest considerari prout cadit in hominibus ista nobilitas naturalis, et tune debet intelligi . . . naturali ratione inducta, quod nos juristae (continued)

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Where Bartolus broke most sharply with Dante, moving on to new ground of his own, was in his definition of his third kind of nobility, which he called 'civil nobility', and which he clearly considered to be, in a lawyer's human terms, more relevant if less perfect than the other two. In the case of both theological and natural nobility, as he saw, the standard was an internal one. This was obviously true of natural nobility, as an individual either has talents that fit him to rule or he has not. As Dante explained his matter, it was true also of theological nobility, despite the fact that what was described was the implanting of a seed or capacity for virtue by an external creator, for that implanted only a capacity, as yet unrealised. 'Wherever virtue is, there is nobility: but virtue is not always there where nobility is', Dante had said, and had gone on with his famous phrase, 'So we in woman, and in those of tender age perceive this healthfulness, so far as they are quick to shame, which yet from virtue is diverse'. Yes, said Bartolus, this verecundia (quickness to shame) is diverse from virtue, and nobility can only be realised, according to this view, in the fruition of the values that verecundia nourishes, from within.36 But nobility, in the civil sense, cannot be defined in this way; because when it is so defined there is no clear means of recognising it, of translating out of internal, moral or theological terms into external and social ones. Bartolus felt acutely the need in this latter field to rely on some sort of standard that was external and objective. He was not, at any rate as far as his commentary shows, very much concerned by the long excursus in which Dante explained why he did not, in this matter of nobility, feel bound by the opinion of the emperor, even though his authority was the foundation of the laws.37 Bartolus saw, more simply, that Dante's approach was for practical purposes too high-faluting: it would make nonsense of the law. Of course laws ought to have an ethical base, which should be respected. If a nobleman had two sons, one virtuous and one reprobate, then the reprobate would lose his nobility; if, that is, in his vicious living he committed an offence that carried with it the penalty of degradation. But what of the case of the son of a nobleman who was neither

(continued)

appellamus de jure gentium primaevo . . . Et de ista nobilitate Philosophus I Eth. iiii ubi dicit quod nihil aliud quam virtus et malitia discriminat servum et liberum . . . Hoc autem non est intelligendum de omni virtute, sed de ea quae competit aliquibus, prout sunt apti dominari . . . et cum hac determinatione posset esse vera quod dicit poeta'. 36. Convivio, iv, 19, and Canzone, lines 101-2, 105-8: E gentillezza dovunqu' e vertute, Ma non vertute ov' ella . . . E noi in donna e in eta novella Vedem questa salute, In quanto vergognese son tenute, Ch' e da vertu diverse. Compare Bartolus: 'Item potest esse nobilitas ubi non est virtus . . . Exemplum in puella verecundia, nam verecundia est diversa a virtute, et tamen in ea est nobilitas'. 37. Convivio, iv, 9.

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virtuous nor reprobate, but simply insane? His insanity, over which he had no control, should surely not cost him his nobility, nor his progeny, if he had any, theirs. And what of the young nobleman, to whom the law recognised an inheritance of privilege, who was destined to lose his nobility by his reprobate living, but as yet had not fallen? Until then he must be noble, and what would formally cost him his nobility would not be his internal degradation, which might be a drawn-out process, but the external legal judgement that, from a specific point, it was forfeit.38 So Bartolus fell back on the authority of the law and the lawgiver, tacit or express, as the yardstick of his third kind of nobility:39 he admitted riches, which Dante had vilified, not as a criterion of nobility, but as a possible causa remota thereof:40 and admitted inheritance of privilege, not because of the worth of blood but because the law recognised it.41 The prince ought to recognise natural virtue, he admitted; and of course the social hierarchy ought, in its way, to mirror the hierarchy of heaven by rewarding the virtuous here on earth; but there was no lawful way of forcing the prince to make it do so, in foro externo.42 And with a wealth of quotation from legal, classical and biblical authority he demonstrated, to his own satisfaction, that that was how things always had been. Bartolus scrutinised Dante's opinions, weighed them, accepted this from them and rejected that, using the Convivio's arguments as a basic structure for his own commentary on the Codex 12.1.1, a commentary that led to conclusions quite different from Dante's, but remaining always respectful of the poet's position. Via Bartolus, Dante's views, adulterated, interpreted and misinterpreted, were passed into wider currency. Upton, Valera, the Songe du vergier and Felix Hemmerlin all repeated the arguments that Bartolus had hammered out around Dante's perhaps overly enthusiastic presentation. I say overly enthusiastic, for I am not sure that his arguments in the Convivio are entirely coherent at all points and they are certainly incomplete: both

38. Bartolus: 'Sciendum ergo est quod ex parentibus nobilibus quandoque nascitur films nobilis et virtuose vivens . . . quandoque nascitur films reprobus, qui habet mores malos, ex quibus est infamis, et tune perdit nobilitatem . . . quandoque nascitur filius qui non habet mores, nee bonos nee malos . . . forte est demens, vel furiosus. Et isto casu retinet nobilitatem', Commentaria in Codicem., p. 942, col. 2. And elsewhere, p. 942, col. 1, 'Item, pone ex uno Rege natum filium qui futurus est reprobus . . . saltern interim, antequam vitia committat, est nobilis'. 39. Ibid., p. 942, col. 2: 'Sicut ergo ille apud Deum est nobilis quem Deus sua gratia gratum facit, in foro nostro ille est nobilis quem princeps sua gratia vel lex sibi gratum vel nobilem facit'. 40. Ibid., p. 941, col. 1: 'Conclude quod divitiae non sunt dignitates nee dignitatem possunt dare directe, ut dicit poeta, possunt tamen esse causa remota, ob quam nobilitas evenit'. 41. Ibid., p. 943, col. 1: 'Sunt quaedam quae non sunt vitia nee virtutes, ut progenies, propter quam lex seu princeps concedit dignitatem'. 42. Ibid., p. 942, col. 2: 'Nobilitas apud nos inventa est ad similitudinem et imitationem illius nobilitatis quae est apud Deum'; but, alas, Videmus quotidie apud principes seculares, et ecclesiasticos, quod propter vitia aliquis ipsi principi efficitur accepturus, et ab ipso nobilitates et dignitates consequuntur', p. 943, col. 1.

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in the Monarchy and in cantos XV and XVI of the Paradiso he said things which do not entirely square with the Convivio.43 Nevertheless, his views were important and influential. In consequence of the attention that Burtolus focused on them, they were a major factor in initiating a great learned debate about the nature of nobility, in which a great deal of ink was spilled in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries — and thereafter — with the same old arguments and authorities, refurbished, modified and reinforced, being bandied to and fro. Even the Renaissance humanists did not so much change the tenor of the discussion, in which they took a keen interest, as bring to bear on it a greater wealth of classical erudition, in particular to illustrate the ennobling quality of virtue. I have argued elsewhere, at length, that the humanist age contributed comparatively little that was novel, conceptually, to the debate about the nature of true nobility.44 I will not repeat that argument here, but will conclude on a different point. It is sometimes suggested that, not only in this matter but more generally, the late middle ages and the fifteenth century in particular, did not contribute very much that was original or really novel in the area of conceptual speculation. Be that as it may, there is no doubt about their importance in another respect in the history of thought. They were a great period for the dissemination of learned ideas, to much wider circles of people, for many of whom the taste of real erudition had previously been inaccessible. Along with this went, I think it must honestly be confessed, a dissemination of the learned manner, of citing authorities and also of dropping names and references, by no means always verified, to give an air of erudition: the specious side of this sort of display of learning (of which most of us academics have sometime or other been guilty) was perhaps specially common in vernacular writers. For the vernaculars, for the first time, were becoming in this age an important medium for the dissemination of learning, through translations (such as those translations of Aristotle, Augustine and John of Salisbury that were commissioned in the court circle of Charles V of France), and through learned treatises in the vernacular, such as were some of the works of Christine de Pisan, the writings of Honore Bouvet — and Diego de Valera's treatise on nobility. It was not just in the sort of subject area that I have been discussing that this development was important; the vernacular theological writings of Hussites and Lollards are part of the same story, and so is the spate of translations from classical authors that the vogue of humanism elicited. But vernacular mirrors for nobility were among the more important vehicles in the wider dissemination of learning, because they had a ready-made readership in literate lay aristocratic circles. In this field Dante's Convivio, with its avowed object of bringing philosophy and the relevance of its teachings to civilised social (or civic) living within the range of the active 'citizen', who would be excluded from its 'feast' of knowledge if it was written in Latin, was a pioneering work. 43. Monarchia, ii, c. 3; Paradiso, xv, esp. lines 46-49; xvi, lines iff. 44. M. Keen, 'Some Late Medieval Views on Nobility', (Creighton Lecture, London, 1985).

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By an irony, those parts of the Convivio with which I have been concerned in this essay reached a wider audience than even Dante, perhaps, could have expected, only after — and because — his ideas had been retranslated into Latin and glossed with legal learning by a great jurist; and so found their way into vernaculars quite other than his own, the Castilian of Diego de Valera, the French of Hue de Salve's translation of Valera's work, and the English of Upton's translator. But they did find their way into these foreign tongues and to unexpected circles, because what Dante had said seemed relevant to Bartolus and what Bartolus said seemed in its turn to have a relevance to contemporary social conditions and questions that made it worth relaying beyond the schools. It was the same way as that in which so much erudition, in this time, was being spread more widely than ever before. That is the point about whose importance one is reminded if one probes further the surprising quotation from the Convivio by a fifteenth-century English canon of Salisbury with which I opened.

13

'Linguistic Pluralism' in Medieval Hungary Janos M. Bak

'Nam unius lingue uniusque moris regnum inbecille et fragile est . . . .' A crucial maximum appears in the oldest surviving text of medieval Hungary.1 Written at the behest of King (St.) Stephen I, the Libellus de institutione morum (c. 1010) is a treatise addressed to his son and heir presumptive, Prince Imre (Henry, Emericus). The sentence is found in chapter seven, which treats

1. An earlier version of this essay was accepted for publication in a collection of essays on Variis loqui linguagiis: Le pluralisme linguistique dans la societe medievale, ed. P. Boglioni and G. Hasenohr (Montreal, n.d.). Readers who find these sketchy comments interesting, may find — if the volume materialises — additional learned contributions to this subject regarding the rest of Europe. Some of the terminology and the comparative aspects were borrowed from papers to be published in the Montreal volume. I have provided the following bibliographical information in lieu of more extensive endnotes. Very little of the relevant literature is available to readers without Hungarian language skills; titles for those able to read Magyar can be found in M. Bernath, ed., Historische Biicherkunde Sudosteuropa, 1 (Munich, 1980), esp. pp. 1025-44, and in Hungarian historical bibliographies. The quotation from The Institutiones was taken from the critical edition of the work edited by J. Balogh, in Scriptores rerum Hungaricarum tempore ducum regumque stirpis Arpadianae gestarum 2, ed. E. Szentpetery (Budapest, 1938), p. 625, and the passage on the Tourkoi from Gy. Moravesik, and R. Jenkins, Constantine Porphyrogenitus De administrando imperio (Budapest, 1949), p. 175. The early medieval laws to which I have referred are now available in a Latin-English edition as The Laws of Hungary: Decreta Regni Mediaevalis Hungariae, 1000-1301, first series, vol. 1. ed. Gy. Bonis, J. M. Bak, and J. R. Sweeney (Irvine, 1989). The report of the Pozsony delegates is quoted in J. M. Bak, Konigtum und Stande in Ungarn im 14.-15. Jh. (Wiesbaden, 1973) p. 78; and the passage from the by-laws of Olt-Szakadat can be found in P. Binder, Kozos multunk . . . [Our Common Past: On the Rural and Urban Co-Existence of Romanians, Hungarians, Germans and South-Slavs under Feudalism], (Bucharest, 1982) p. 58. Most of the material on the aristocracy and the nobles is based on the studies of E. Fiigedi, now assembled in his Kings, Bishops, Nobles and Burghers in Medieval Hungary, ed. J. M. Bak (London, 1986), where additional bibliography on immigration and the nobility's oral culture can be found. On the latter see also my 'Mittelalterliche Grundlagen der Latinitat des ungarischen Adels', Fenno-Ugrica 1 (1982), pp. 76-96. An excellent overview of the multi-ethnic character of early medieval Hungary is offered by I. Kniezsa, 'Ungarns Volkerschaften im XI. Jh.', Archivum Europae Centra-Orientalis 4 (1938), pp. 241-412 where references to the author's detailed studies on place-names can also be found. Kniezsa also edited the collection of Czech charters to which brief reference was made (Kozepkori cseh oklevelek — Stredoveke ceske listiny, Budapest, 1952 [with French resume], p. 181-86.) On the Cumans and Pechenegs, see H. Gockenjahn, Grenzwdchter und Hilfsvolker im mittelalterlichen Ungarn (Wiesbaden, 1972) and on the Muslims see the text published by I. Hrbek, 'Em arabischer Bericht iiber Ungarn', Acta Orientalia Acad. Sc. Hung. 5 (1955), pp. 205-30.

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of the prince's duty to welcome guests (hospites), for they bring with them useful goods and powerful arms. Indeed, St. Stephen's successors followed this maxim, augmenting the realm and its elite by inviting and receiving many men and families who spoke foreign tongues. The medieval kingdom of Hungary comprised the entire Carpathian Basin, and was hardly a 'frail and weak kingdom of one language', just as most central European states were not. Multi-lingualism, or at least the coexistence of more than one language within a community, appears to have been characteristic of the regions that lay between the Holy Roman Empire of Germany and the Byzantine-Russian world. A glance at a modern linguistic map of Europe reveals the lands between the Elbe and Don, from the Baltic to the Aegean, to be the most variegated areas in terms of languages, many being of unrelated linguistic families or circles. Dozens of Slavic languages, spotted by Germanic- and Romance-speaking islands, are mixed with loosely related Uralic (Finnish, Estonian, Hungarian), Turkic and ancient Mediterranean (e.g. Albanian) idioms. While some of these are of relatively recent origins, owing to Ottoman domination or Habsburg settlement policies, the overall picture was not essentially different in pre-modern centuries. In refining the categories, one might distinguish between the larger blocks of near homogeneous linguistic regions, such as the Polish or Hungarian heartlands, the bilingualism of wide border areas, and the truly mixed language populations in and around towns, trading centres and emporia, especially in the Balkans. The written or literary languages that had a major impact on this area (above all Latin, but also Greek, Old Church-Slavonic and German) coexisted and mixed with languages somewhat removed grammatically and lexically, if not — as in the case of Hungarian — entirely different in their basic structure, syntax and grammar. Not being a linguist, I cannot explore this difference in depth, but I believe that it defined, to a great extent, the specific character of linguistic pluralism in this region. An overview of the linguistic conditions of medieval east-central Europe might prove too broad a cast and yield too rich a harvest for the parameters of a short essay. A few examples from the medieval kingdom of Hungary must stand pars pro toto; they may shed some light on a few central issues relevant to the entire region.2

2. The topic of 'linguistic pluralism' may be appropriate for a memorial volume for Denis Bethell since my friendship with him started on such a note. He and I were to translate and rewrite Heinz Quirin's German Introduction to Medieval Studies, the completion of which was precluded initially by our unrealistic perfectionism, finally by Denis's illness. While working on 'the Quirin', we learned to appreciate the distance that separated a German book from an English, American or Irish readership: mere 'translation' would have helped but very little. When we had spent weeks of agony, having pestered almost all our friends with requests for counsel in an attempt to translate the difference between Akten and Urkunden — we realised that the punishment humankind received for daring to build a tower in ancient Iraq was quite formidable. Maybe the best solution was the medieval one: let all speak their tongues and good men and women will 'understand' each other, by God's mercy! But I will say more on this below.

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As far as can be ascertained, considerable segments of the medieval population of Hungary spoke and certainly understood, for at least some generations, more than one language. Most of the examples to be examined refer to what has been called bilinguisme regressif or even residuel, although some hint at long term coexistence of spoken and even written languages. Contributing to this state of affairs was the settlement (or conquest) of the Hungarian (Magyar) tribes in the Carpathian Basin, the conscious import of foreigners — from queens to miners — by the rulers of the country from the eleventh century onwards, and the mass migration of peasants and townsmen from the overpopulated areas of western and west-central Europe beginning in the twelfth century. In addition, the thirteenth century brought the settlement in Hungary of displaced nomadic tribes (Cumans, Jazygs) who were fleeing the Mongols. The medieval kingdom of Hungary comprised considerable territories that were, and remained, non-Magyar speaking; but owing to the strong central government, especially in the earlier centuries, the populace would have been exposed to the ruling language via Hungarian royal administrators, military commanders and other officials. Besides Croatia, which became part of the kingdom around 1100, bringing several Dalmatian cities also under intermittent Hungarian rule, there was Transylvania, which always enjoyed a certain special status and which later became truly multi-ethnic and multi-lingual. Hungarian sovereignty was extended to the northern Balkans, and occasionally, in the form of banates, into the mountain valleys in the Hungarian-Byzantine (later Hungarian-Ottoman) border regions. Hungarian kings also briefly ruled areas beyond the Carpathian mountains in present-day Galicia and towards the lower Danube (modern Romania). In the border regions bilingualism naturally flourished; a study in itself, which cannot be discussed in depth at this time. The more general factors of medieval linguistic pluralism — the spread of liturgical languages and the use of Latin as the vehicle of learning — were at work in Hungary just as elsewhere in Europe. Since Latin remained the written language of administration and law far beyond the middle ages, evidence for emerging vernaculars in Hungary is less easily available than in most other regions. The long survival of Latin as the lingua franca of the state was, of course, partly owing to the diversity of vernaculars within the kingdom. In the early nineteenth century, the Romantic cultural revival influenced by Herder engendered the demand for replacing Latin by Magyar. The resistance and protest of Croats, Slovaks, Romanians, Serbs and even Germans within the kingdom proved, ex post facto, the beneficial effects of the use of the neutral and common Latin in the preceding centuries. The 'historical misunderstanding' that failed to distinguish the subjects of the Crown of St. Stephen from ethnic and cultural Magyars led to the tragic catastrophes of 1849 and, in the last resort, to the dismemberment of historical Hungary in 1920. While the many forms of bilingualism or linguistic coexistence left some indications in written sources, the linguistic realities of the middle ages were obscured by the preponderance of Latin in all spheres of medieval life, not

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only the ecclesiastical and scholarly. One could imagine a paper about the causes for not being able to write a paper on the linguistic pluralism of medieval central Europe — even one on the European middle ages in general. Vestiges of probable 'reciprocal bilingualism' can be found in place and personal names and in the few surviving pieces of vernacular writing that precede the Reformation, that harbinger of the final victory of national idioms in the region. The chronology of this major change is, in this area, by no means homogenous. As is well known, Hussitism in Bohemia preceded Luther by a century and was a major force in the rise of Czech and also Hungarian translations and writings in the popular idiom. However, the tenacity of legal Latin in the kingdom of Hungary delayed the effects of the Reformation, and the Counter Reformation, on the national culture as a whole. Studies on the use and importance of different languages in specific areas of the Carpathian region exist in fair numbers but generally suffer from orientations with overt or covert political implications — for example, the support of historical claims to a certain territory. Attempting to avoid anachronistic or ideologically motivated conclusions, the following is a first tentative reconstruction of linguistic realities prior to the sixteenth century, the age in which vernaculars began to emerge as widely written languages, thereby bringing the multilingual character of the region more or less into full view. Historians and linguists of the past century have established that even early medieval Hungarian (Old Magyar) contained a considerable percentage of loan words from the languages that the tribes, which became the Hungarian people, came into contact with in the first millennium of our era. The basic Fenno-Ugric vocabulary that reflected a hunting and gathering lifestyle with rudiments of agriculture was augmented by Iranic (Alanic), Turkic (Chazar), Slavic (Bulgaro-Slavic, Slovene, etc.) and, of course, Latin loan words. The words for objects and institutions of steppe-nomadic life, settled agriculture, kingship, and the Christian faith reflected the relevant culture respectively. Several plants and animals of the southern steppe have names of Turkic origin, as do matters related to nomadic pastoralism, mounted warfare and certain tribal or 'political' structures. Of Slavic origin are the words for king, count, palatine, treasurer, bailiff, peasant, money, to sue and seal; the names for several grains (rye and oats) and the terms of their cultivation (furrow, fallow, scythe, straw); of legumes and domesticated animals (the cat, duck, lamb, rooster etc); of trades, (the cooper and his products, weavers, butchers, blacksmiths and potters); and of the tools of fishing and hunting (paddle, sail, boats, types of nets). The words for several Christian notions (cross, baptism, priest, nun and the names of many church holidays); many words designating the house (its parts and furniture); and the names for typical indoor activities (cooking etc.) also derive from Slavic roots. Latin was naturally the most influential in the religious and legal sphere, while early medieval German loan words (and the German transmission of other Indo-European forms) refer generally to courtly and noble institutions, to town life, mining and other urban trades.

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As some Magyar words can also be found in the recorded languages of the Slavic and Balkans peoples living adjacent to medieval Hungary, one may assume that many persons of both linguistic groups spoke, or at least understood, the language of their neighbours. A relatively long-lasting, but receding, bilingualism may thus be assumed to have once existed among the peoples of the Carpathian Basin. As the settlement and political organisation spread from the centre of the region to the peripheries (from the plains and river valleys into the hills and mountains), Magyar became the language spoken by the overwhelming majority while Latin remained the written language. With the exception of the Slavs living in the northern mountainous areas (today's Slovaks), the inhabitants whom the Magyar tribes found when they entered the Carpathian Basin around 900 seem to have become in a few generations Hungarian speakers, having contributed their share to the development of Old-Magyar. There is good reason to assume another 'vanishing bilingualism' in early medieval Hungary. The leading strata of the tribes only a few generations before had been part of the elite of the Chazar pax of the southern steppe, and most certainly spoke both the Turkic tongue of the 'empire' and the Turkised Fenno-Ugric (Magyar) of their subjects. In the mid tenth century Constantine IX Porphyrogenitos wrote about the Hungarians, whom he calls Tourkoi, owing to their earlier participation in the Chazar-Turkic agglomeration of steppe-nomads: 'The so-called Kabaroi were of the race of the Chazars . . . . They settled with the Tourkoi in the land of the Pechenegs, and they made friends with one another . . . . And so to these Tourkoi they taught also the tongue of the Chazars, and to this day they have this same language, but they have also the other tongue of the Tourkoi'. While there are some difficulties in the reading of this passage, scholars agree that it means that the Hungarians, or at least their elite, were bilingual during the Age of the Princes. Personal names among the ruling clan and other tribal leaders also suggest a gradual transition from Chazar-Turkic to Old-Magyar, but the names of the generation preceding St. Stephen, even that of his mother Sarolt, point to a long survival of Turkic in the ruling clan. Thus we have returned to St. Stephen and 'his' maxim concerning the regnum unius linguae. Beginning with the reign of his father Prince Geza, Hungary became the host country to many a foreign-born queen, clerk, knight, burgher and rural settler. All brought their own languages with them, the ecclesiastics contributing Europe's Latin and some Greek. Inevitably the immigrants became more or less bilingual, while also introducing the use of another language into their surroundings. Proceeding in good medieval fashion — hierarchically — let us begin with the royal court. Little is known of the court's linguistic conditions; however, one may note that from some forty known Hungarian queens between 1000 and 1541 (the end of an independent medieval kingdom of Hungary), only two may have learned Magyar as children. Even these, namely Elisabeth the Cuman (d. 1289) and Barbara of Cilly (d. 1441), probably spoke as

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their mother-tongue Cuman (a Turkic language) or German (perhaps even Slovene?) respectively. The rest came from German, French, Slavic (Czech, Polish, Serbian), Sicilian, Italian or Greek (Byzantine) dynasties, often in the company of several knights and surely also ladies-in-waiting. How long and to what extent (in terms of personal retinue and associations) did they retain their maternal tongue and how did they speak with their spouses and Hungarian office-holders? One may safely assume that there was for at least a number of years, after most royal weddings, a certain bilingualism in the queen's court. There is evidence that from the end of the eleventh century, the royal council (a rather formless gathering of king, magnates and prelates) deliberated in Hungarian. This is witnessed by the words of the cleric Alberich, who in writing down the decrees of King Coloman (1096-1116) in Latin, apologetically (in best rhetorical tradition) asked Archbishop Seraphim to pardon and correct his mistakes in recording the decisions, for he did not understand the spoken language well. As everywhere in Europe, the decisions, like the judicial sentences and donation charters, were written in Latin. In 1301 the native Arpad-dynasty died out in the male line and from then on, with the exception of the Hungarian magnate Matthias HunyadiCorvinus, 'foreigners' became kings of the country; born abroad, these kings usually came to Hungary as adults. Owing to the typical lack of interest of medieval authors in personal matters and characteristics, we know very little regarding when and how they learned the language of the country. Nor do we know about the transaction of business between Magyar counsellors and Sicilian, German-Czech, Austrian or Polish-Czech kings. Tradition records only that Sigismund of Luxembourg (1387-1437) spoke several languages and that Wladislas II, Jagiellon king of Hungary and Bohemia (1490-1516), was known as 'King Dobze' (i.e., 'yes-man'); he must have used his Slavic tongue when agreeing, as he usually seems to have done, to the matters presented by the powerful barons. At least for some years the court and the council must have been a place where not only Latin and Magyar but also the mother tongue of the 'foreign' ruler was spoken. This may be the appropriate place to mention the fairly early mixing of Latin and vernacular in the legal and administrative sphere. Hungarian medieval Latinity has been studied by philologists who have been able to demonstrate the reception of norms and rhetorical models from the vernacular, as well as grammatical and stylistic influences. Remaining only on the surface of all this, one may cite such Hungaro-Latinisms as birsagium (from Magyar birsdg, fine), chybrio (from Magyar csobor, bucket, or a wine-tax), pristaldus (from Slavic pristav, bailiff, or sheriff), all of which appear in the records of the eleventh-century laws of the kingdom. Early references to geographical points such as roads, rivers or villages in the vernacular appear with the well-known prefix vulgo . . . dicitur or vocatur. Some of these are in fact the oldest known written words in Hungarian; they serve as valuable bases for phonetic and morphological inquiries. The third type of evidence for 'chancellery bilingualism' is what one

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may call hidden translations, which are surely not unique to Hungary. For example the designation comes, borrowed from German chancellery usage, was used for the king's officers at the head of royal districts and household 'departments'. Their name in the vernacular was ispan, derived from the South Slav word zupan, which in that society meant a somewhat different kind of local leader. Instructions for these comites, written in Latin, must have been more or less understood by them, or translated by their clerks, who of course, rendered them as duties of the ispdn; just as German grafen knew that the word comes referred to them. Another translation of this kind appears in a peculiar sentence of the Laws of St. Ladislas, ordering that no villa should move farther than a day's walk from its ecclesia. Of course a villa, either in the classical Latin sense of a landowner's residence or the western medieval one of village or hamlet, cannot move anywhere. The Latin-writing clerk translated here the Magyar falu, a word designating a settlement surrounded by a palisade (fal, in modern Hungarian, wall). This expression later meant a village stricto sensu, but in the late eleventh century it referred to a group of temporary dwellings which were moved according to the needs of transhumant animal husbandry and fallow cultivation, in a manner characteristic of the transition from semi-nomadism to settled agriculture. Legal and chancellery Latin had an important influence on the linguistic culture of the lesser nobility, but hierarchical sequence places the aristocracy first. As mentioned previously, a fair number of the magnates originated from families of foreign knights who came to Hungary from the eleventh century onwards. Newcomers rose to high office and leading social position as the kings' favourites under the 'foreign' dynasties from Anjou, Luxembourg, and under the Habsburgs and even the Jagiellons in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries. There is no explicit reference to language in genealogical sources, such as the chroniclers Kezai's and Master Akos's description of the clans of advenae. Several authentic or legendary stories describe the arrival of German or French knights, their reception at court, their being granted land and office, but none implies any difficulty in communication. This is an indirect evidence of the multilingual character of the royal court, as the newcomers could hardly have spoken the peculiar tongue of the Magyar nobility and royal officers. Conversely, it again suggests linguistic pluralism among the newly arrived lords and their fellows, at least for a few generations. Cultural linguistic assimilation was by no means uniform, and may have had a great deal to do with marriages — about which we know little. In the Hahot clan, Hungarian given names appear by the third generation suggesting the decline of German culture in this aristocratic family; while in the Heder clan, German names prevail for at least five generations. The counts of Szentgyorgy from the Heder clan, whose ancestors came to Hungary in the mid twelfth century, are referred to in a charter around 1320 as dicttts Graf de Basin, suggesting a German self-denomination almost 200 years after their 'immigration'. Another kind of reciprocal(P) bilingualism may be detected in the development of the family name of a noble clan in northern Hungary,

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in the region speaking Slavic (Slovak). In the twelfth century a royal warrior was granted a village called Vendeg (in Hungarian, guest), hence the family was referred to as the Vendegi family, i.e. those of Vendeg. Later the clan received properties at the far end of the newly organised county of Turoc, where the local inhabitants also called them Zaturcansky; namely those holding land beyond Turoc. The family used the names Vendegi or Zaturcansky, and sometimes both, for generations; later to become the well-known Hungarian noble clan of the Zathureczky, which has flourished into modern times. Clearly the landowner, his notaries and his fellow countrymen spoke both languages; it was historical chance that a version of the Slovak appellation became the accepted form. Scattered evidence regarding the knowledge and use of several languages among the great men of the realm exists, but a systematic study is yet wanting. For example, the biographer of Pipo Scolari, treasurer and general of King and Emperor Sigismund, noted that 'besides Florentine [his native language] and Hungarian, he knew German, Polish, Czech [which is called Slavic] and Valachian — which are Barbarian tongues — so well that he could speak each of them as though it was his own'. Stibor, the Polish-born councillor of Sigismund, seems to have had a Czech notary at his court, for he issued, in 1432, the oldest known Czech charter in Hungary. There are cases, however, that suggest some of the aristocracy were not versed in the common language of their regions. In 1517 the fatally ill noble lady Anna Majthenyi called for the parish priest to hear her confession and administer the last sacrament. Neither the priest nor his vicar knew Magyar well enough, so they asked a travelling Hungarian clergyman, who was fortunately staying in the parish, to go to the manor house. Apparently Anna Majthenyi did not have a sufficient command of Slovak, amidst a Slavic-speaking population, to speak to her local priest. The clergy, however, knew enough Latin to arrange for the substitution. The lady's oral last will and testament was challenged in court, not on the grounds of translation or oral transmission but because of some matter connected to laws of inheritance; hence witnesses told the details of the story, offering a rare insight into everyday communication problems. The 'middle class' of medieval Hungary, which comprised the wide stratum of lesser nobles, down to the semi-rural 'sandalled-nobles', was the bearer of a specific bilingualism, or rather macaroonism, originating in the dualism of vernacular realities and Latin legal procedure. In spite of the above example, there was surely extensive bilingualism in territories with non-Hungarian populations, where the lesser nobles seem to have changed to the local vernacular (especially in the Slovak regions). The development of a specific 'third culture' in addition to the learned clerical Latin one and the popular folklorish vernacular one (as Jacques le Goff called them), originated in the very widespread legal, and hence Latin, education of thousands of lesser noblemen. These nobles, formerly royal castle warriors or armed retainers, became in the course of the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries, owners of landed property, acquiring the right to self-

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government in the county communities. Annually four or more were elected indices nobilium (noble magistrates), several served as witnesses in property transactions, while others accepted appointments from greater landowners as their stewards, bailiffs or castellans. If their aristocratic patrons moved to higher positions, they followed them to the royal courts or to administrative offices. Their extensive legal practice, ranging from local quarrels within the county to the high courts of the realm, was based not on university training, but on the experience of daily practice in the county, guided by formularies and artes notariales. They frequently became acclaimed experts in the mainly customary law of the land, which contained a mixture of learned (Latin) and practical (vernacular) traditions. Even those who served only temporarily in local office were frequently involved in interminable law suits, owing to specific inheritance rules pertaining to the ownership of land in medieval Hungary. A considerable segment of the many thousand nobles participated, in one way or another, in the legal and administrative life of the local and central courts, in a world of Latin as a technical language. In medieval Hungary issuing charters under a nobleman's own seal did not become general practice, nor was there widespread use of trained notaries. These were reasons for the dissemination of at least an elementary knowledge of Latin. The writing down of 'private' business remained in the hands of ecclesiastical bodies, chapters and convents that served as places of authentication. As these were not secularised and vernacularised until much later, virtually everyone who had any legal matter to transact had to understand some Latin in order to assure that a document reflected his or her intention properly. The records suggest that in the diets, where delegates of the counties, and sometimes a much larger number of noblemen assembled, some speakers addressed the meeting in Latin. All the decisions, submissions to the king and the final decreta were, of course, written in Latin; and surely, a fair amount of all this, was understood by many. In 1446 the delegates of the city of Pozsony (now Bratislava, Slovakia) reported, in German, to the council concerning their negotiations held at the diet with other cities, the magnates and the elected regent John Hunyadi, regarding arrangements for peace in the land. 'But then', so they continued, 'there was a great cry among the nobility and the rest we cannot report to Your Honours, for we did not understand their Hungarian.' Therefore, at that date some negotiations were conducted in German and/or Latin, but the general debate — if that is the word for the often tumultuous scenes — took place in the vernacular. This contrasts with the widespread belief in 'Latin debates' down to the nineteenth century. The linguistic situation in the cities was more equivocal. Urban centres in Hungary were mostly populated by guests (hospites] from the western lands; Latini (i.e. Italians and people from French lands), and Germans, often called Saxones. In the course of the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries Hungarian, Croat, and Slovak peasants and craftsmen also moved to the cities. The citizens of lesser, non-privileged, towns mostly came from the surrounding

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countryside. There is no difficulty in finding evidence in urban documents for the co-existence — albeit not always peaceful — of different ethnic-linguistic groups. From the fourteenth century on several towns solved the 'ethnic' problem, which was also reflected in conflicts between the lesser guilds and patricians, by deciding that the mayoralty be alternately held by a German and a Hungarian (sometimes a Hungarian and a Slovak) councillor. Clearly the council deliberated under both mayors in a language or languages that was understood by all. Probably this was German, for the laws (sometimes partially borrowed from more developed German city statutes) were in German, and many technical terms were more readily available in that language. An historian of non-privileged towns has pointed out that the German records contain a far more differentiated list of trades and crafts than the contemporary Hungarian ones. This may not mean that the division of labour in the 'German' towns was necessarily more advanced, but rather that the nomenclature was linguistically richer. It was common among townsmen for the same person to be known by a German, a Latin and perhaps another vernacular (Hungarian) name, long before it became typical for Humanist authors and Protestant preachers. Delegates of cities to the diet would use there the Hungarian translation of their German name, which therefore appear differently in city records — making life difficult for urban historians. The person signing once in the one and again in the other language was obviously able to understand, if not speak, both tongues. The written record may also be treacherous however. There is a passage in a sixteenth-century by-law of a small Transylvanian town, or rather village, which states that 'in der Gemein Szakadat zweierlei Nationen, nemlich Ungarische und Vlachische ist'. A German (Saxon) scribe records in his 'learned' language that the community consists of people of two other ethnic and linguistic groups, namely Hungarians and Valachs (Romanians). Actually, the village officers were, according to the records of a border-dispute from 1594, a Hungarian mayor, two Hungarian and two Romanian citizens. The study of urban and small-town records could yield considerable insight into cultural and linguistic co-existence and also conflict. The least is known, as usual, about the conditions and thus the problems of communication of the largest segment of the population: the peasants, serfs and other commoners. Personal and place-name studies indicate that they were the least bilingual, assimilating into their linguistically fairly homogeneous societies the speakers of other tongues. Hungarian, Slavic (proto-Slovak and Croat) and later Rumanian speakers lived in rather well-defined communities, though as in the Transylvanian case, not infrequently co-existing in one village. The study of parallel (mostly Magyar and Slav) place-names yields contradictory evidence. In many cases two constituencies have different names for a village or a field: one is the translation, the other an adaptation (according to phonological principles) of the other. Sometimes the two have entirely different origins. While most historians have used this data for the study of settlement, it also indicates that, while using essentially their own tongue, even rural folk more or

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less understood their neighbours who spoke another language. It should again be emphasised that the languages in question were linguistically far removed from each other, one being a fundamentally Uralic (Fenno-Ugric), the other an Indo-European (Slavic, Germanic, or Romance) idiom. The difference here was larger than in the often studied Romance-Germanic border regions, and can be compared only with Celtic and Germanic contact zones. There was surely extensive, residually receding, bilingualism on the level of commoners who had assimilated the ethnic-linguistic groups that vanished in the course of the middle ages. The Arab traveller, Abu Hamid al-Garnati met, in around 1140, Muslims in Hungary with whom he could speak Arabic, even though they needed instruction. As a consequence of the assimilationist missionary policies of Hungarian rulers, they were about to lose their traditional language. The Pechenegs, who lived in Hungary in the eleventh century and must have spoken their Turkic tongue, had by the beginning of modern times lost their language. Only a few fragmentary glossaries survive of the language of the Cumans and Jaszok, or Jazygs, sizeable tribal populations that found refuge in thirteenth-century Hungary. These are but a few examples. A rich body of evidence lies in the protocols of canonisation processes, which frequently note that a clerk or merchant served as translator for the Hungarian, Italian or German testimony presented by commoner witnesses. These documents await a systematic study, as do many others, which hitherto have not been scrutinised for their linguistic evidence.

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14

Jewish Anti-Christianism from the Crusades to the Reformation Gordon M. Werner

Recent studies have clearly demonstrated that there was a significant rise in hostility towards the Jews and pressure for their conversion in the late middle ages.1 While a chronological debate exists on exactly what period of time the changed Christian attitude towards European Jewry first manifests itself,2 it is clear that by the thirteenth century the Jews faced a heightened campaign either to convert them or remove their alleged contagious presence from the main body of Christian Europe. Undoubtedly these activities had repercussions within the various Jewish communities, and it is on one largely neglected aspect of this reactive history that this essay will focus. One manner of Jewish response lay in the composition of tracts aimed at a Jewish audience that would aid in countering the Christian assault.3 These writings took a variety of forms, employed a number of different kinds of arguments, and were used for different purposes. All of them, however, had the purpose not only of defending Judaism but also of attacking Christianity, however mildly, subtlety or secretively. One does not find many of these Jewish polemical writings prior to the twelfth century; indeed, it has been

1. When I discussed the topic of this essay with my colleagues in Jewish Studies, the overwhelming emotional reaction was 'Es pascht nit' [a Yiddish phrase that is somewhat difficult to translate, but essentially means, 'it's not appropriate or proper'. Their argument was that too much already exists that generates anti-semitism, so why are you giving the Gentiles more ammunition? While this reaction does not merit serious academic consideration, it does harken back to Yaacov ben Reuven's Sefer Milchmot Ha-Shem where in the preface he warns Jews to be silent on those subjects that might offend Christians and even asked that his name not be attached to the work for fear of reprisal. (See no. 1 in the appendix. All subsequent references to writings listed in the Appendix will be cited in the text and notes by their corresponding number in brackets.) Shlomo ben Mosche ben Yechutiel (no. 6) even suggested that 'if a Jew sees he is winning the argument, he should not appear the victor; but, he should try to change the subject'. This essay will neither change the subject, nor be unduly concerned about offending Christian sensitivities. 2. See, for example, Jeremy Cohen, The Friars and the Jews: The Evolution of Medieval Anti-Judaism (Ithaca, 1982) and Robert Chazan, European Jewry and the First Crusade (Berkeley, 1987). 3. The appendix contains an annotated list of these polemical tracts.

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suggested that only with the rise of Christian hostility did Jews find the need to go on the counter-offensive. 4 While the substance of all these writings are decidedly anti-Christian, either in content, tone or conclusion, they do not even approximate to the level of hatred or invective that one sees in the anti-Semitic writings of the Christians. Contrary to the conclusions of scholastic philosophy, the Jewish polemics, even the most vituperative of them, employ rational, empirical and exegetical philosophical arguments in their debate with Christianity. It is not that the Jews were blind or refused to see, it is simply that they reached different conclusions from the available evidence. Also, while the Christians would obviously have been greatly disturbed by these writings, when and if they fell into their hands, the overwhelming majority of them are exceptionally mild and deferential in tone. For the past two decades a limited amount of Jewish scholarship has begun to focus on these important, but largely neglected texts, and it is high time to integrate this material into the general historical narrative.5 Given the broad span of time covered by the composition of these polemical tracts, it is difficult to decide where to begin. Perhaps it would be useful to start with two well-known late reactions by famous Christians to these Jewish writings, those of Luther and Erasmus, and work backwards. Heiko Oberman has shown that as early as 1528 Luther began a series of complaints against Jewish blasphemy, either directed at the Jews proper, or at other Jews, the radical reformers, a point to be take up later in the work of Jerome Friedman. In a recent work, Oberman discusses the transition in Luther's position towards the Jews: For Luther the Jews were doing anything but improving. What was worse, encouraged by their misreading of his own words, they had become more daring, defaming and cursing Jesus of Nazareth and regarding Christians as their 'worst enemies', so much that 'if you could, you would (now) rob (all Christians) of what they are and what they have.6

Oberman then points out that three days prior to Luther's death he added another blasphemy warning to his last sermon: 'The Jews are our public enemies, they do not cease to defame Christ our Lord, to call the Virgin Mary a whore and Christ a bastard, and if they could kill us all, they would gladly

4. See, David Berger, The Jewish-Christian Debate in the High Middle Ages, The Jewish Publication Society (Philadelphia, 1972), p. 7. 5. See, for example, Daniel J. Lasker, Jewish Philosophical Polemics Against Christianity in the Middle Ages (New York, 1977); Hayim Hillel Ben-Sasson, 'Jewish-Christian Disputation in the Setting of Humanism and Reformation in the German Empire', Harvard Theological Review 59 (1966), pp. 369-90; and, David Berger, 'Gilbert Crispin, Alan of Lille, and Jacob ben Reuben: A Study in the Transmission of Medieval Polemic', Speculum 49 (1974), pp. 34-47. 6. Heiko A. Oberman, Luther: Man Between God and the Devil (New Haven, CT, 1989), p. 293; the emphasis is mine.

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do so. And they often do.'7 Similarly, Simon Markish in Erasmus and the Jews points out innumerable quotations from Erasmus on Jewish blasphemy: Still you breath[e] hatred for the King of the Jews whom we worship . . . . [A]nd still even today they curse Christ in their synagogues . . . . Jews who do not cease to revile the son of God in their synagogues . . . . Apparently Jews of today remain the same. They do not recognise their groom, refuse him with a lie, kill him. And they do not cease to steal his sheep, which he redeemed with his own blood; they do not cease blasphemous slandering in their synagogues of the one before whose name kneels all that is in heaven, on earth, and in the netherworld.8

What blasphemy were they talking about? Is it simply the old accusations against the Talmud, which Oberman emphasises in The Roots of Anti-Semitism by his focus on Pfefferkorn?9 Or is there more? Is there something new, or at least more recent, that focuses attention on so-called Jewish derision of Christianity in general, the practices and beliefs of the Church, and in particular on the nature of the Holy Family? Robert Chazan in his recent work Daggers of Faith and Jeremy Cohen in The Friars and the Jews both emphasise that in the mid thirteenth century, there was increased pressure on the Jews from Christians and especially, Jewish apostates, who began to use post-biblical Jewish literature as the cornerstone of a new, more insidious, and intellectually, at least initially, more effective assault on the Jews.10 Daniel Lasker, Yehuda Rosenthal and Jerome Friedman all point out that this new assault generated a Jewish response.11 While these responses were written in Hebrew and directed to a Jewish audience, both the existence of Jewish converts and the rise of Christian Hebraism allowed the Christian community, or at least the intellectual segments thereof, access to this material. Jerome Friedman has shown this clearly in his work on Michael Servetus: 'Servetus used over a dozen rabbinic sources, some of which were available in manuscript form only and within the Jewish community'.12 Without additional research of the kind conducted by Friedman it cannot be said with certainty at this point how widespread or well known were these Jewish writings. Some, like the commentaries of David Kimchi (no. 3)

7. Ibid., p. 294. 8. Shimon Markish, Erasmus and the Jews (Chicago, 1986), p. 79. 9. Heiko Oberman, The Roots of Anti-Semitism (Philadelphia, 1984), pp. 32-37. 10. Cohen, The Friars and the Jews, pp. 19-76 and Robert Chazin, Dagger of Faith: Thirteenth Century Christian Missionizing and Jewish Response (Berkeley, 1989), pp. 25-37. 11. See Daniel J. Lasker, Jewish Philosophical Polemics against Christianity in the Middle Ages (New York, 1970); Yehudah Rosenthal, 'Anti-Christian Polemic from its Beginnings to the End of the Eighteenth Century', [in Hebrew] Aresheth 2 (1960), pp. 130-79; and Jerome Friedman, The Most Ancient Testimony: Sixteenth-Century Christian-Hebraica in the Age of Renaissance Nostalgia (Athens, OH, 1983). 12. Jerome Friedman, Michael Servetus: A Case Study in Total Heresy (Geneva, 1978), p. 121. Furthermore, see esp. the Servetus references in the appendix, nos. 3, 7, 10, 14 and 15.

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were widely circulated and cited, especially by the Christian Hebraists. Others probably had a far more limited circulation. The critical point is that a number of these sources found their way into Christian hands and apparently generated both increased concern about and hatred of the Jews. Whether they represented the source of the Lutheran and Erasmian invective over Jewish blasphemy can only be a matter for speculation at this juncture, given the limited state of research conducted to date. It is hoped that when more research is done on the Christian Hebraists and their sources, more pieces of this puzzle will fit together. For the remainder of this essay, I would like to provide an overview of the broad categories of the Jewish polemics, the nature of their arguments, and give a few of the most important examples from the texts. The polemical literature, in Hebrew, is usually referred to as vikuach ('disputation') or nizzachon ('victory'). There is some debate on whether the term nizzachon as used in this sense really implies victory, or whether it is merely another way of describing a controversy, albeit with an anticipated victory for the Jewish position.13 In the fifteenth century Rabbi Yosef ben Shem Tov divided the then existing polemical literature into six categories.14 For simplicity's sake, I have added the later fifteenth- and sixteenth-century polemics as well as the Hebrew chronicles of the crusades, merging them into the three broad divisions contained in the appendix: biblical exegesis, rabbinic exegesis and attacks on Christianity. Biblical exegesis was the standard approach taken in most of the classic medieval disputations. Christians attempted to show that Old Testament prophecy foretold the coming of Jesus, while the Jews argued that such citations were either taken out of context or misunderstood. Many of the Jewish participants in these disputations insisted on having direct Biblical evidence, since they took the position that the basis of Christianity was so inherently implausible that some more objective standard was necessary to have any discussion at all. Almost every polemic that deals with biblical exegesis includes a discussion on the meaning of Isaiah 7:14: 'Behold a "virgin" shall conceive and bear a son, and shall call his name Immanuel'. In work after work it was pointed out by the Jews that almah is the Hebrew word for a 'young woman', not 'virgin' (betullah}. In some works it was argued that either the Christians' inadequate knowledge of Hebrew or a conscious distortion of the original text accounted 13. J. Wagenseil, Tela ignea Satanae (Altdorf, 1681), translated nizzachon as Liber victoriae, clearly indicating that Jewish use of this term meant a victory for the Jewish arguments over those of the Christians. However, Moritz Steinschneider, Jewish Literature (London, 1857), argues convincingly that both nizzachon and vikuach are terms generally employed simply to signify a controversy. 14. Yosef ben Shem Tov's six categories were: 1. Exegesis of the Hebrew Bible; 2. Exegesis of Rabbinic Literature; 3. Attacks of Christianity; 4. Comparisons of Christian Doctrines with the New Testament; 5. Attacks on the Articles of Christianity; 6. Comparisons of Christianity with the Principles of Philosophy.

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for this inaccuracy. The early polemic by Joseph Kimchi, Sefer Ha-Brit (no. 2) stated: Rather, Jerome, your translator is the one who led you astray and caused you to err. May he rest in the Congregation of the Shades (Proverbs 21:16). You said, 'the virgin shall conceive', but Scripture says the 'young woman shall conceive'. Now, almah means 'young woman' be she a virgin or not . . . . This is all false, for it is not found . . . in the text. . . from which your text was translated . . . . Jerome . . . relied upon it, translated from it, and trusted it, with the exception of a few words which he did not understand or which were contrary to the belief and which he altered, changing the root of the faith to wormwood. Furthermore, if, according to your interpretation, she were a virgin giving birth, how can one believe that this is a sign? Would not the people suspect that she played the harlot and the child was illegitimate? .. . We have seen many young women who were considered virgins but gave birth. Then we knew for a certainty that they were not virgins.15 Oberman, in The Roots of Anti-Semitism, discusses this controversy and concludes that the Jews were, with hindsight, correct: 'There hardly existed a debate in which a Jew did not point out that the translation from Isaiah 7:14 . . . was erroneous, since the Hebrew word almah meant not "virgin" but (as is generally recognized today) "young woman".'16 Oberman then argues that this matter of fact, rational, non-invective pointing out of the mistranslation brought down a storm of Christian reaction: This objection, launched against a text crucial to Christian claims on Old Testament prophecy, unleashed from the Christian side a proliferation of curses, since Mary, untouched and unsullied . . . had been prefigured ages ago in the bush that was burned and was not consumed. Just as the bush was not reduced to ashes but remained unscathed as God, in its flames, manifested himself to Moses, so too did Mary remain exempt from all sin when God entered the world. And since the miraculous appearance of God — against all the laws of nature — must be quite familiar to the Jews from their own Old Testament, their ignorance was considered not blindness, but a wicked and diabolical denial that had to be combated. In the anti-Jewish sermons intended for popular ears and widely disseminated in pamphlet form, disparagement of the Mother of God often weighed heavier than thefts of the host, ritual murders, and — still only occasionally — well poisoning.17 Oberman's point is important. Whereas the Jews viewed this as a mere factual dispute on the correct exegesis of the Bible, it became something altogether different for the Christians, an issue to which we will return when discussing the Jewish assaults on Christianity. But it should be recognised that in a few instances Jews attempted to seize the offensive by combining their biblical 15. Joseph Kimchi, Sefer HaBrit (The Book of the Covenant], (Toronto, 1972), pp. 54-56. 16. Oberman, Luther, p. 83; the emphasis is mine. 17. Ibid., p. 83.

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exegesis with either veiled or outright attacks on Christianity. Thus, the author of Sefer Nizzachon Yashan (no. 7) responds to the Christian pressure of explaining various Christological verses by finding a series of his own: Now, any wise man can understand that their words have no substance but are lies and falsehoods which overturn the words of the Torah, and it was of them that Isaiah said, 'Woe unto them that seek deep to hide their counsel . . . .' [Isaiah 29:15] . . . Jeremiah said, 'Accursed is the man who puts his trust in a man.' [Jeremiah 17:5] This is a reference to Jesus, for throughout the Gospels he is called son of man. David said, Tut not your trust in princes' [Psalms 116:3] — these are the apostles — 'in the son of man, in whom there is no salvation' [ibid.]—this is Jesus, who is called the son of man. We see, then, that all the prophets contradict the story of Jesus.18

Robert Chazan and Jeremy Cohen argue convincingly that the nature of the Christian approach to converting the Jews changed in the mid thirteenth century. In addition to the use of biblical exegesis in an attempt to prove the validity of Christianity, a series of Jewish apostates provided the church with a new weapon, Talmudic and other post-biblical references. Rabbinic discussions were so broad ranging, including the use of legends (Aggadot), allegories and sermonic forms (Midrashim), that the new converts, many of whom had been trained to some degree in this literature, convinced their lay and clerical superiors that a new arsenal existed that could be turned to their advantage. Indeed, Chazan in Daggers of Faith argues that the new fight over rabbinic exegesis did have some marked advantages for the Christians. Given the knowledge and skill of Jewish debaters such as Joseph and David Kimchi, arguments on biblical exegesis ran the risk of being turned back against Christianity, as we have just seen in the almah dispute. Purely Rabbinic sources could not; they could either corroborate Christianity, or they would be shown to be corrupt in themselves. In either case the Christian view would be left intact. The novelty of this approach created some initial concern and confusion among Jewish disputants. Therefore a need arose for a new type of Jewish polemical literature, one that would provide succinct arguments and answers from the exegesis of rabbinic sources. One of the earliest and most successful of these was Nachmonides's Vikuach Ramban (no. 23). When a Jewish disputant was ordered to appear for the disputation of Barcelona in 1263, the aged and famous Rabbi Moshe ben Nachman of Gerona — also known as Nachmonides or by his acronym, Ramban — was selected as the Jewish representative. His argument about the rabbinic sources became the model for virtually all subsequent Jewish works in this area. He differentiated between Halacha (Law), which was binding on all Jews, and Aggadah (Legends) and Midrash (allegories and sermonic forms), which were not. A literal Christian reading

18. Sefer Nizzachon Yashan (Veins), Psalms 143, lines 9-35.

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of the rabbinic material, Nachmonides argued, was not only ironic, because of their 'spiritual' interpretation of Old Testament prophetic verses; but, more important, it missed the mark because no Jew was bound to accept Aggadah and Midrash. Whereas the novelty of the Christian use of these sources produced, as we have argued, some initial embarrassment and confusion, it would eventually be dismissed as so much papal pilpul. The final genre of the Jewish polemics that we will consider is the outright attack on Christianity. In terms of later developments, and especially given the charges of Jewish blasphemy, it was potentially the most important and the most explosive. Yet it must be recognized that there is a blurring of the lines between and among these different approaches. As has been seen, biblical exegesis, such as the almah case, could be interpreted as an attack on Christianity. The works now being considered move beyond a mere defence of Judaism: they attempt to prove the superiority of Judaism by showing that Christianity is wrong. This was accomplished by comparing the current beliefs of the Christians with the teachings of the New Testament; by showing that Christian beliefs were self-contradictory; and by illustrating that they were inconsistent with the findings of philosophy (namely, logic, mathematics, physics, and metaphysics). While I have already suggested that most of these polemics were mild in tone and very rational in approach, within this genre a few descend to the level of anti-Christian harangues and invective. These were works written at the time of overt Christian persecution, the crusade chronicles (nos. 27-30) providing clear examples of such. It could be argued that because these are mainly historical works they should be eliminated from our polemical categories altogether — as has generally been the case with the few Jewish scholars working in the field. However, if other works, such as historical accounts of disputations, can be included, and if such treatises contain attacks on Christianity that may form the basis of some later reactions, then there exists the responsibility of dealing with them. The three Hebrew chronicles of the First Crusade (nos. 27, 28, 29) and the one chronicle extant from the Second Crusade (no. 30) all show hostile reactions to the virgin birth, the resulting legitimacy of Jesus, and his lack of acceptance by Jews of his own time period. The Chronicle of Solomon bar Shimshon (no. 27) describes the events in the city of Mainz when the crusaders and the populace surrounded the Jewish quarter and offered them the choice of conversion or death. Before committing sacrificial martyrdom: The young maidens, the brides and the bridegrooms looked out through the windows and cried out in a great voice: 'Look and behold, O Lord, what we are doing to sanctify Thy Great Name, in order not to exchange You for the crucified one who was despised, abominated, and held in contempt in his own generation, a bastard son conceived by a menstruating and wanton mother . . . .' Refusing to gainsay their faith and replace the fear of our King with an abominable stock, bastard son of a menstruating and wanton mother, they

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extended their necks for slaughter and offered up their pure souls to their Father in Heaven.19

Each of the chronicles has similar types of statements, virtually all premised on the public denunciation of Christianity just prior to Jewish martyrdom. To the degree that this type of literature was known, one has a different basis, perhaps, for the accusations of Jewish blasphemy. After all, this is not quite the same as Joseph Kimchi's reasoned statements about the meaning of almah. Let me quickly add that this type of invective is the exception, rather than the rule, within the anti-Christian polemics. They all occur within the framework of large- scale physical persecution. The attacks on Christianity that are not thus premised are far more logical and rational. Isaac ben Abraham of Troki, a Lithuanian Karaite who wrote Hizzuq Emunah [Faith Strengthened] in 1593 gives a very rational, chapter-by-chapter analysis of the Old and New Testaments by pointing out the inner-contradictions of Christianity. Troki begins his analysis in chapter one by stating: I was once asked by a Christian scholar, 'Why do you Jews refuse to believe that Jesus Christ was the Messiah, evidence concerning him having been given by the true prophets, in whose words you also believe?' And this is the answer which I gave him: How was it possible for us to believe that he was the Messiah, as we do not see any actual proof of his Messiahship throughout the prophetic writings. As for the passages which the authors of the Gospel adduce from the words of the prophets, to demonstrate that Jesus the Nazarene was the Messiah, they advance nothing relating to him, as will be shown in the second part of this work, in which we shall in regular succession point out the fallacies set forth in the Gospel. On the other hand, we shall see many incontrovertible proofs, in support of our conviction that Jesus was by no means the Messiah. A few of these arguments may be here introduced. He was not the Messiah is evident: 1. 2. 3. 4.

From his pedigree; From his acts; From the period in which he lived; From the fact that during his existence, the promises were not fulfilled which are to be realised on the advent of the expected Messiah .. . .20

As a quick illustration of how Troki attempts to prove his case through Christian inconsistences, his first example, that of Jesus's pedigree, argues that in the New Testament the descent from David is traced through Joseph, not Mary. What, Troki asks, has Joseph to do with the matter if one accepts the notion of Virgin Birth?

19. Chronicle of Solomon Bar Shimshon, reprinted in Shlomo Eidelberg, The Jews and the Crusades (Madison, WI, 1977), at p. 110. 20. Isaac Troki, Hizzug Emunah [Faith Strengthened] (New York, 1970), p. 5.

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Troki and the other Jewish polemicists writing within this genre focused especially on the topics of the Trinity, the Incarnation, the Virgin Birth, and Transubstantiation. Attacks were also made on clerical immorality and the violence associated with Christianity: 'From the days of the Nazarene until now, the entire world has been full of violence and robbery. [Indeed] the Christians spill more blood than the rest of the nations, and they also lead immoral lives'.21 Attacks were also made on Christianity as a religion that fostered idol worship; deviations within Christianity were indicative of its lack of validity: Since that period [Abraham and Terach] to the present time, 3,000 years and more have elapsed; and the worship of images still continues. For we see your evangelists, who follow the steps of Martin Luther, accuse those who walk in the faith of the pope in Rome of rendering homage to images in their houses of worship; yet it is manifest, that image-worship proceeds not from the will of God.22

Later Jewish polemicists employed a number of arguments, in addition to the above, derived from rival Christian sectarianism both before and after the Reformation. Special attention was paid to charges of the commercialisation of the church and the immoral practices of the Catholic clergy. In an interesting twist of the Christian argument about the destruction of Jerusalem and the exile of the Jews being a sign of God turning his favour away from the Jews, the polemicists argued that the failure of the crusades was an indication that God does not favour Christians and has no covenant with them. Let me conclude by reinforcing what I stated at the beginning. The essence of all the Jewish polemical writings of this period is indeed anti-Christian. However, even in the most strident attacks on Christianity, the Jews never stoop to the depths of baseness directed against them. Christians are not depicted as children of the devil, nor do they sport horns. They do not have unique, incurable diseases or otherwise suffer the mark of Cain. While they spill Jewish blood, they are not accused of drinking it or using it for ritual purposes. In sum, Jewish anti-Christianism is not the same as Christian anti-semitism, or anti-Judaism. The fact that these writings sparked a more intense Christian reaction is more symptomatic of Christian hatred for the Jews than causal.

21. Moses Ben Nachman, Vikuach Ramhan [The Disputation of Barcelona] (New York, 1983), p. 21. 22. See the appendix, no. 19, Isaac ben Abraham of Troki, Hizzug Emunah.

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Appendix A Jewish Anti-Christian Polemics Specific references to the printed texts of the following works may be found in A Reel Guide to Polemical Manuscripts from the Library of the Jewish Theological Seminary of American, University Microfilms International (Ann Arbor, MI, 1977); see also, Alexander Marx, Studies in Jewish Bibliography and Related Studies in Memory of Abraham Soloman Fredius (New York, 1929). PART I: BIBLICAL EXEGESIS 1.

Sefer Milchamot Ha-Sbem, Jacob ben Reuven (1170) Refutation of Christian doctrines; exegesis of Old Testament; critique of New Testament; and, proof that Messiah had not yet come.

2.

Sefeer Ha-Brit, Joseph Kimchi (mid twelfth century) Exegesis of Old Testament and attack on Christian life and morals.

3.

Teshuvot Radaq La-Nozrim, David Kimchi (early thirteenth century) Compilation from his commentary on Psalms which is an attack on Christian interpretation.

4.

Sefer YosefHa-Mequanneh, Hoseph ben Nathan (mid thirteenth century) Exegesis and critique of the New Testament.

5.

Milchemet Mitzvah, Meir ben Simeon of Narbonne (thirteenth century) Author's account of disputation in Narbonne (1245) on Jewish money lending and arguments against Christianity.

6.

'Edut Ha-Shem Ne'emanah, Solomon ben Moses ben Yekutiel (Solomon de Rossi, thirteenth century) Exegesis; suggestions for Jewish polemicists; defense for length of Jewish exile.

7.

Sefer Nizzahon Yash an (Vetus), anonymous (late thirteenth century) Exegesis; critique of Torah; analysis of Talmudic haggadot.

8.

Sefer 'Ezer Ha-Emunah, Moses Ha-Cohen of Tordesillas (1375) Correct exegesis of Torah; analysis of Talmudic haggadot.

9.

Even Bohan, Shem Tov ben Isaac ibn Shaprut (late fourteenth century) Repeats Jacob ben Reuben's analysis (no. 1); discusses Talmudic haggadot; attacks Christian dogma.

10. Sefer Nizzahon, Yom-Tov Lipmann Muhlhausen (1399) Exegesis refuting both Christians and Karaites; account of disputation with Jewish apostate. 11. Ahitov Ve-Zalmon, Mattityahu ben Moshe ha-Yizhari (fifteenth century) Poem dealing with debates among converts to Judaism, Christianity, and Islam.

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12. Magen Va-Romah, Chaim ibn Musa (1456) Refutation of Nicholas of Lyra; exegesis focusing on messianic verses.

13. Teshuvot Ha-Nozrim, Benjamin ben Moses of Rome (fifteenth century) Exegesis of the Old Testament.

14. Z'or HaMor, Abraham Saba (late fifteenth century) Exegesis with Kabbalistic interpretation.

15. Akedat Yitzchak, Isaac Arama (1522) Commentary on Tanach; sermons; refutation of Christianity.

16. Magen Avraham, Abraham Farissol (1500) Exegesis; attack on Christian doctrine; account of arguments used in disputation in Ferrara.

17. Cherev Pifiyot, Yair ben Shabbetqi of Correggeio (sixteenth century) Exegesis and list of 100 messianic signs not fulfilled.

18. Ziheron Sefer Nizzahon, Meshullam ben Uri (sixteenth century) Poem based on arguments in nos. 4 and 10.

19. Hizzuq Emunah, Isaac ben Abraham of Troki (1593) Karaite exegesis of both Tanach and the New Testament; modern cover (KTAV, 1970) includes subtitle: '1200 Biblical Refutations to Christian Missionaries'.

20. Kevod Elohim, anonymous (sixteenth century) Primarily a compilation of earlier exegesis.

21. Kur Matzref Ha-Emunot U-Mar'eh Ha'Emet, Isaac Lupis of Aleppo (1695) Based on no. 1; analysis of Talmudic passages.

PART II. EXEGESIS OF RABBINIC LITERATURE

22. Vikttach Rabbi Yebiel Mi-Paris, (1240) Account of disputation with Nicholas Donin, trial of the Talmud, and its burning.

23. Vikuach Ramban, Moses ben Nachman (Nachmonides) (1263) Account of Barcelona disputation focusing on whether Talmud and Rabbinic sources prove that Jesus was the messiah.

24. Vikuach Tortosa, (1414) Account of disputation of Tortosa focusing on Talmudic sources and the coming of the messiah.

25. Milchemet Mitzvah, Solomon ben Simon Duran (1437) Attack on Joshua Lorki (Tortosa disputant) focusing on the difference between law, legend, and allegory.

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26. Yeshu'ot Meshicho, Don Isaac Abrabanel (second half of fifteenth or very early sixteenth century) Explains the true Jewish meaning of the Talmudic passages cited by Christians. PART III. ATTACKS ON CHRISTIANITY

27. Chronicle of Solomon bar Shimshon, (1140) Hebrew chronicle of the First Crusade; contains numerous attacks on Jesus, Mary and Christianity alleged to have been stated by Jews as they were attacked by Christians.

28. Chronicle of Rabbi Eliezer bar Nathan (late eleventh or early twelfth century) Chronicle of First Crusade focusing on attacks of Jews and their verbal counter-attack.

29. The Narrative of the Old Persecutions [Mainz Anonymous Chronicle], (late eleventh or early twelfth century) Chronicle of First Crusade; attack on Christianity. 30. Sefer Zekhirah, Ephraim of Bonn (1171) Chronicle of attacks on Jews during second crusade; attack on Christianity.

31. Nusah ha-Ketav, Joshua Lorki (c. 1390) Written before his conversion and sent to Paul of Burgos; sets guidelines for investigation of religions; mild attack of Christianity.

32. Sefer Nestor Ha-Komer, anonymous (n.d.) Attack on Christianity attributed to a priest [Nestor] who converted to Judaism.

33. Ta'anot, Moses ben Solomon of Salerno (thirteenth century) Attack on Trinity and Incarnation; exegesis of Bible.

34. Vikuach Radaq, anonymous (thirteenth century in Italy) Incorrectly attributed to David Kimchi; attacks both Catholic and Catharist doctrine.

35. Livyat Hen, Levi ben Abraham of Villefranche (1245-1315) Attack on Incarnation, Trinity, Original Sin and other Christian doctrines.

36. Sefer Kelimat Ha-Goyim, Profiat Duran (1345-1414) Differences between Christian doctrine and New Testament; mistakes of Jerome's translation; misquotations from Hebrew.

37. Bittul 'Iqqare ha-Nozrim, Hasdai Crescas (1340-1410) Attacks contradictory nature of Original Sin, Salvation, Trinity, Incarnation, Virgin Birth, etc.

38. 'Ezer Ha-Dat, Moses Ha-Kohen of Tordesillas (c. 1375) Attack on Trinity.

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39. Keshet U-Magen, Simon ben Zemah Duran (1361-1444) Attack on Christianity and Islam.

40. Sefer Hoda'at Baal Din, Don David Nasi (1430) Attack on Christian doctrine; comparison with Maimonidean Judaism.

41. Sefer Ha'Iqqarim, Joseph Albo (c. 1444) Attack on Christianity; defence of Judaism.

42. Vikuach, Elijah Chaim ben Benyamin of Genazzo (sixteenth century) Account of disputation; attack on Original Sin, replacement of Torah.

43. Vikuach, Azriel Petahia ben Moshe Alatino (1617) Account of disputation of Ferrara.

44. Magen Va-Cherev, Judah Aryeh de Modena (1571-1648) Attack on Original Sin, Trinity, Incarnation, Virgin Birth, nature of messianic age.

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15

Creative Biography T.P. Dolan

A reader's satisfaction with a biography, any biography, varies according to preconceived ideas about the nature of biography — basically, whether it should be regarded as a branch of history or as a branch of creative literature.1 The truth of a biography is a very contentious issue and may have little or nothing to do with the quantity or quality of surviving facts. For example, even when a biographer has done a great deal of research, the resulting portrait may be dismissed by some as lacking truth, as with Albert Goldman's monumental biography of Elvis Presley, to take an extreme example.2 Presley is only recently dead (1977), and so it may perhaps be more suitable to take another example of a famous figure to demonstrate the relationship between truth and fact. A useful example is the life of Arthur Wellesley, first Duke of Wellington, who died in 1852. The entry for him in the Dictionary of National Biography contains a full account of his public life. In her absorbing biography of him,3 Elizabeth Longford recorded all the known facts, yet we still feel that we do not know what the secret man was like: the private man does not emerge from the public life, perhaps because he himself was a very private man, in another sense of the word 'private'. Even recourse to contemporary history, to which Wellington made a major contribution, does not help because it seems that he was old-fashioned by the standards of his own contemporaries. We have the facts but it can be doubted if we have the truth.

1. In his review article of R. B. Dobson's Durham Priory, 1400-1450, 'Monuments and Muniments: A Review Article', Ampleforth Journal 79 (1974), p. 46, Denis Bethell wrote admiringly of Dom David Knowles's inaugural lecture at Cambridge, entitled The Historian and Character', referring to 'his concern with personality and his eye for colour'. These are qualities which Bethell's own writings and teaching always manifested, and so in this essay, to commemorate him, I propose to discuss the way modern writers have orchestrated the facts and indulged in speculation to bring colour to medieval personalities, in particular Geoffrey Chaucer, Richard FitzRalph, and John Wyclif. The main aim of the discussion will be to investigate the relationship between facts and truth in modern biographies of medieval figures such as these. 2. Albert Goldman, Elvis (New York, 1981). The book was given a mixed reception because devotees of the singer believed that the facts did not measure up to the person they knew. 3. Elizabeth Longford, Wellington, 2 vols., (New York, 1970-73).

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The problem of facts and truth is understandably even more perplexing with medieval authors. For Geoffrey Chaucer we have four hundred and ninety-three entries in the Life-Records,* beginning with 1357 with payments made to and for him by Elizabeth, countess of Ulster, and ending with 1400, the date of his death, according to the inscription on his monument erected to his memory in 1556 by Nicholas Brigham. In the words of F.R.H. Du Boulay, 'Nothing is more natural than the wish to give genius a human face'; and yet, as he writes, 'five hundred documents excavated with monumental labour and printed in the Life-Records still leave the figure veiled',5 probably because, as W.L. Warren argues, 'Medieval history is history without private lives'.6 In spite of these difficulties, however, it is the task of a biographer to try to put a face on his or her subject. In this case, one must endeavour to evolve an image of Chaucer the man — as a son, husband, father, author, diplomat, officer of the court, justice of the peace, and associate of kings and nobles. A reader wants to know about the family background, education, physical attributes and qualities of character, as well as the details of the public life. Three major biographies of Chaucer have been produced over the past two decades, by John Gardner (1977),7 and, more recently, by Donald R. Howard (1987) and Derek Pearsall (1992).8 To shed light on the different skills and achievements of these two biographers it may be useful to compare biographical work on two of Chaucer's contemporaries — Richard FitzRalph, who died in 1360, about whom much is known, and John Wyclif, who died in 1384, about whom much less is known. Consideration of different biographies of these three men will reveal the diversity of approach in dealing with their lives and may also suggest some necessary criteria for determining what is a true or truthful biography of a medieval figure. From Gardner's introduction we learn what he plans to do: 'We have no choice but to make up Chaucer's life as if his story were a novel, by the play of fancy on the lost world's dust and scrapings'.9 His purpose will be to create a mixture of 'academic history' and 'poetic celebration'. This attitude to biography is in stark contrast to the austerely judicious work of J.R. Hulbert in his monograph entitled Chaucer's Official Life (1912),10 and of F.R.H. Du Boulay in his paper 'The Historical Chaucer',11 both of whom kept to established facts, which mostly concern the public Chaucer, but as the historian W.L. Warren drily observes, 'A curriculum vitae is not 4. Chaucer Life-Records, ed. M. M. Crow and C. C. Olson (Oxford, 1966). 5. F. R. H. Du Boulay, 'The Historical Chaucer', in Geoffrey Chaucer, ed. Derek Brewer (London, 1974), p. 55. 6. W. L. Warren, 'Biography and the Medieval Historian', in Medieval Historical Writing in the Christian and Islamic Worlds, ed. D. O. Morgan (London, 1982), p. 15. I am indebted for this reference to Professor J. R. S. Phillips of University College Dublin. 7. John Gardner. The Life and Times of Geoffrey Chaucer (New York, 1977). 8. Donald R. Howard, Chaucer: His Life, his Works his World (New York, 1987); Derek Pearsall, The Life of Geoffrey Chaucer (Oxford, 1992). 9. Gardner, Geoffrey Chaucer, p. 3. 10. J. R. Hulbert, Chaucer's Official Life (Menasha, WI, 1912, repr. 1970). 11. Above, n. 5.

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a biography' [his italics].12 Gardner resolves this problem by pretending to give the reader a close-up view of the domestic Chaucer. Rather like the Eagle in The House of Fame, the biographer puts himself on familiar terms with 'young Jeff Chaucer', as he calls him, and supplies memorable vignettes of the poet at different periods in his busy life (e.g., 'Chaucer frowning in his medieval spectacles'). Other characters who took part in Chaucer's life are also given the same familiarising treatment. William Langland, for instance, appears 'raw-boned and pock-marked, ranting at country and small-town humanity in a long black coat (Chaucer avoided him as he would the plague, but he kept track of his work, kept track of his readings in baronial courts, followed with distaste the cancerous proliferation of copies of his poem)'.13 We read, too, of 'that great and generous mother-hen, Queen Philippa' and of 'that pretty, fat, bejeweled Joan of Kent'. Gardner's story keeps to the chronological pattern established in the Life-Records but entertains indulgences of this nature throughout his biography. On the basic events of Chaucer's life he erects creative set-pieces. His conjectures on the circumstances of the poet's birth are notably self-indulgent: A difficult delivery, the midwives up till dawn; it was feared they'd be forced to toss the mother in a blanket to get the labor spasms right (or else it was not a difficult delivery and took place in, say, the afternoon, and the midwives stood beaming in their nunnish attire, blowing on their fingers because the winter was cold; or they were absent, having gone to the wrong address).14

As regards Chaucer's relationship with his wife, Gardner is 'inclined to believe theirs was an excellent marriage, that sometimes Chaucer lay at night with Philippa's head against his shoulder, listening to her breathing and the breathing of the children — Elizabeth and little Thomas, later little Lewis'.15 Such impressions of domestic bliss are always marred in Chaucer's case by the notorious matter of his release from a charge of raptus by Cecily Champain on 1 May 1380. According to Gardner, 'It is difficult to believe . . . that the case involved only abduction or that Chaucer was only an accessory'.16 He also rehearses the allegation, only to deny the thought, that the 'Little Lewis' for whom Chaucer wrote his treatise on the astrolabe was the offspring of this illicit union. This is obviously a titillating thought. It seems that Gardner and others find it difficult to believe that Chaucer was 'infallibly high-minded and incorruptible'. As we shall see, Donald R. Howard supplies a rather damning additional piece of information about this ignoble episode. At the end of his biography, after detailing Chaucer's life as he feels it was led, Gardner rises to hitherto unreached heights of speculation about the poet's 12. Warren, 'Biography,' p. 9. 13. Gardner, p. 13. 14. Ibid., p. 61. 15. Ibid., p. 167. 16. Ibid., p. 253. Pearsall, Life, pp. 135-38, 216-17, agrees.

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last hours in this world with reference to the circumstances of his 'Retraction'. He imagines that Chaucer called for the priest and whispered Taste page' and 'Quill and ink': 'Now that he was dying, following the shadowy shrouded road of Philippa and Gaunt, poor huffing bug-eyed Brembre, and that tragic fool Gloucester . . . .' When he had finished writing the 'Retraction', Gardner speculates that 'he handed the quill to Lewis', thought Tarewel my bok and my devocioun!' and died.17 Gardner's book is a good read, but it is doubtful if the face he puts on Chaucer is the true one. The speculation is heavy-handed and he fails to appreciate fully small, but significant, facts that could have given us access to Chaucer's mind and thought. For instance, the famous reference to the killing of Flemings in The Nun's Priest's Tale may have been of deep personal importance to Chaucer because his wife was a Fleming. Such small shafts of light can be very significant in biographies of long dead people, as W.L. Warren so ably demonstrates in his essay on 'Biography and the Medieval Historian'. He cites, for instance, the fact that when Henry II (d. 1189) was told of the death of his eldest son, who left many debts, the king said, 'My son has cost me much; but would that he were still alive to cost me more' — a highly illuminating response.18 We do not have anything as immediate for Chaucer but more could and should have been made of the few verifiable personal details that we do have. The innuendos arising from the Champain case are gratuitous. Apart from its other weaknesses, Gardner's work is defective above all because of his inability to cope with Chaucer's intellectual life. This task was more successfully accomplished by Donald R. Howard in his biography. His sources were the same as Gardner's, but whatever information came to light through scholarly research in recent years was incorporated by Howard in his book. Two important instances of this type of material will demonstrate his skilful use of the findings of other scholars. One is the fact that the surrealistic houses of Fame and Rumour in The House of Fame 'bear a remarkable resemblance to an actual cluster of buildings, the royal palace in the He de la Cite in Paris, which Chaucer had seen in the spring of 1377'.19 Howard acknowledges Professor Laura Kendrick's discovery of this information. This shows the perfect partnership of historical and literary scholarship. For a second example we can cite the earlier discovery of Haldeen Braddy that Cecily Champain was Alice Perrers' step-daughter. In other words, writes Howard, 'it means that Chaucer raped or seduced the step-daughter of an old friend who had done him many favors, the former king's mistress, now in disgrace and entirely out of the picture'.20 One can only imagine what Gardner would have made of this piece of information. 17. Ibid., pp. 313-14. Contrast PearsalPs detailed examination of the 'Retraction': Life, pp. 269-70. 18. Warren, 'Biography', p. 15. 19. Howard, Chaucer, p. 256. 20. Ibid., p. 318.

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Howard's biography commands attention because he defines his goal and keeps to it: 'We want to know what he [Chaucer] thought he was writing'.21 In other words, he decided to concentrate on the intellectual and cultural forces that helped to furnish Chaucer's mind. He recreates the milieu; the facts he gives are verifiable from the Life-Records; the implications he senses are probable; the effects he identifies convey the impression of truth. Howard consistently demonstrates his skill in using the intellectual background to adumbrate the mind of the writer. Perhaps there is no better example of this than the way he shows throughout the book how the forces of humanism were assimilated by Chaucer in his writings. Even so, Pearsall's Life seems more truthful because he first of all acknowledges that Chaucer, though elusive and enigmatic, deliberately established himself as an individual presence in his writings, and then sets out to discover what that presence was really like. He avoids speculation and inventions, and lets the facts speak for themselves, unlike Howard who, despite his punctilious concern to be truthful, at times seems to manipulate the evidence to prove a particular point which, from a historical perspective, may not be tenable. For instance, this is what Howard has to say in his opening remarks about The Canterbury Tales: In the years between 1385 and 1389, the darkest period of his life, Chaucer began The Canterbury Tales. He was in adversity and under emotional stress, and he evidently began the work as an escape from the outward and inward pressures of his life, an escape he would find in the role of the comic bourgeois we call 'Chaucer the Pilgrim'.22

Much of this 'adversity' was ostensibly due to the debts attested by the Life-Records for this period in his life, but Du Boulay would dismiss such speculation: 'The debts which have attracted such attention were nothing unusual, but rather indicate a certain affluence, for his income tended to rise and was paid with remarkable regularity for the times, and the ability to borrow was then as now a sign of creditworthiness'.23 Before Du Boulay, Hulbert had made the same point, that Chaucer 'led a prosperous and important life (in a business and financial way) from 1374 to the end of his life'.24 These considerations affect our acceptance of Howard's perception of Chaucer's financial conditions before he started work on The Canterbury Tales. On another point, this time Chaucer's relationship with John of Gaunt, we may also question Howard's interpretation of the facts. Howard frequently refers to the close connection between Gaunt and Chaucer as a means of disclosing the motivation behind what he wrote but, according to Hulbert, there is nothing to suggest that the duke 'exercised a ruling influence over his destiny'.25 21. Ibid., p. xiii. 22. Ibid., p. 401. 23. Du Boulay, 'Historical Chaucer', p. 53. Pearsall, Life, pp. 222-23, agrees. 24. Hulbert, Chaucer, p. 70. 25. Ibid., p. 62. Pearsall, Life, pp. 97-8, 323 n. 2, confirms this view.

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Pearsall differs markedly from Howard in his handling of Chaucer's personal, professional and financial affairs. Possibly this may be because, as he notes in his introduction (p. 7), earlier American scholars have tried to turn Chaucer into 'an honorary American". There can be no doubt that PearsalPs Chaucer is organically English. Still, both the English and American Chaucers as described by the literary critics, are more colourful personalities than the austere portrait which Du Boulay allows himself: The most that can be said is that Chaucer was probably married to Philippa de Roet from about 1366 to 1387, by which time she was dead, and that he had a son called Thomas who rose higher in the world than his father, probably also a son called Lewis, and just possibly a surviving daughter called Elizabeth. To attempt deductions from the poetry about Chaucer's happiness or otherwise in the married state seems a waste of time.26

The biographer of Chaucer is at least lucky to have facts concerning the public life as well as numerous writings. The task is much more difficult if there are plenty of writings (all extant in Latin), but very few facts, as is the case with John Wyclif. Such a life can only be written with much speculation. An excellent example of this type of creative biography is Louis Brewer Hall's book, which is engagingly titled The Perilous Vision of John Wyclif.27 It is an extraordinary biography by any standards and can best be described as 'faction'. Hall was undaunted by the conclusion of H.B. Workman, who published a major study of Wyclif in two volumes in 1926 and who wrote that 'the harvest of certainty is but small'.28 This cautious view was supported by Anne Hudson in her judicious summary of known facts of Wyclif's life in the introduction to her Selections from English Wycliffite Writings.29 Professor Hall was in no way deterred by this dearth of facts. He takes us at a reckless pace from Wyclif's birth in 1328 (which is contrary to what Workman suggested, that 'the year of his birth cannot be fixed')30 to his death in 1384, with relentless supposition, innuendo and distortion. He tells a good story but this is not enough to satisfy the discriminating reader because, even when the facts he uses are verifiable, he often either deliberately or involuntarily gets it wrong. This detracts from whatever sense of truth he was trying to convey. As we have seen, John Gardner tends to be gossipy, yet even he keeps this tendency in check. No such barrier exists for Hall, not least because next to nothing is known of the private, domestic Wyclif. He explains his interpretation of the word 'biography' in his preface: 'the word is familiar but we have forgotten its true meaning: "life writing". I hope that in the following pages John Wyclif of the fourteenth century will be 26. Du Boulay, 'Historical Chaucer', p. 47. 27. Louis Brewer Hall, The Perilous Vision of John Wyclif (Chicago, 1983). 28. H. B. Workman, John Wyclif: A Study of the English and Medieval Church (Oxford, 1926), 1, p. 3. 29. Anne Hudson, Selections from English Wycliffite Writings (Cambridge, 1978). 30. Workman, John Wyclif, 1, p. 21.

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reincarnated for the twentieth.' He also argues that The patterns of living must be expanded the way a film maker animates a flower blooming or clouds flying . . . .'31 After this ominous start, the biographer deals with Wyclif's birth, boyhood, education (at school and at Oxford), his associates, and his personal and professional life as a theologian, preacher and scientist, with some choice vignettes of what he looked like (e.g., 'small and drab', 'small as a birch-twig'). This is the way Hall copes with the swaddled Wyclif in his cradle: 'Midwives who were more up-to-date left a note in the swaddling so that the baby could urinate outside the bandage'.32 But the Yorkshire farm on which Wyclif was supposed to have been born was a long way from the 'more modern London', too far North for modern ideas to penetrate, 'and so baby John wet inside his swaddling'.33 Hall proceeds with this kind of creativity throughout his book. Even his explanatory notes have an imaginative flavour. For instance, after informing his readers that Wyclif was an outstanding speaker in disputations, he says that 'disputations were debates, but to call a medieval disputation a debate is like calling Swan Lake a dance'.34 Such flights of fancy are not too dangerous, but even known facts are distorted. For instance, on several occasions Hall cites Richard FitzRalph (archbishop of Armagh from 1346-60), who was a major influence on Wyclif's ecclesiastical and political thought, but he was definitely not 'a famed mathematician', as Hall claims.35 If anything, it would appear from the evidence that FitzRalph was seriously ill at ease with figures. So far as Hall's biography in general is concerned, there is a distinct lack of substance in the picture of Wyclif that he gives us. His methodology is similar to Gardner's, but he had fewer facts to line his creative impulse, so the overall effect is less convincing. Since Hall introduces FitzRalph into his story it may be fruitful to examine how orthodox historians have coped with the life of the archbishop. Thanks to the existence of many records concerning him, even though his episcopal register has apparently not survived, we have a very clear picture of what sort of man he was — virtually his whole career from his early years in Dundalk to his death in Avignon in 1360 has been carefully described by Aubrey Gwynn and Katherine Walsh.36 In addition there is a striking portrait of him by W.A. Pantin in his The English Church in the Fourteenth Century.37 All three scholars, most copiously Walsh, supply details of his career; but the resulting portraits are much more than mere inventories of his achievements 31. Hall, Perilous Vision, p. ix. 32. Ibid., p. 1. 33. Ibid., p. 2. 34. Ibid., p. 39. 35. Ibid., p. 46. 36. Aubrey Gwynn, The Sermon-Diary of Richard FitzRalph, Archbishop of Armagh', Proceedings of the Royal Irish Academy 44 (1937), section C. no. 1, pp. 1-57 and Katherine Walsh, A Fourteenth-Century Scholar and Primate: Richard Fitz Ralph in Oxford, Avignon and Armagh (Oxford, 1981). 37. W. A. Pantin, The English Church in the Fourteenth Century (Cambridge, 1955).

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and writings. Each uses the material to flesh out the facts in such a way as to give a convincing impression of the man. When, for instance, Pantin refers to his 'moral severity' over the delinquency of the friars as he perceived it,38 the facts are there, overwhelmingly, to prove it. When it might appear to the reader that FitzRalph's four long absences in Avignon (1334-35, 1337-44, 1349-51, 1357-60) suggest that he might have been 'an absentee, a confirmed litigant, a papal provisor, in fact all that is deplorable according to text-book standards', Pantin is judicious in his defence: 'we know him also as a zealous diocesan, an acute and courageous thinker and writer, and a man of deep piety, perhaps the nearest approach that the fourteenth century produced to the type of Grosseteste and Pecham'.39 Pantin's vignette leaves us with the impression of a likeable, conscientious, sincere man, a view which is sustained and obviously expanded in Katherine Walsh's magnificent full-length study. Here he emerges as a formidably mercurial personality, ambitious, sometimes foolhardy, often reckless, mercilessly single-minded in his hounding of the friars, protective of his diocesan clergy, courteous when it suited him, oldfashioned and derivative in his theology, given to rhetorical exaggeration but, above all, intensely human. No better example of this last quality can perhaps be found than his succumbing to curiosity about what exactly the enigmatic George Grissaphan found out about him and his diocese from an archangel when he visited St. Patrick's Purgatory at the end of 1353, and wrote asking for an audience with FitzRalph, in February, 1354: 'The archbishop got up at midnight in order to travel to Dundalk the following day, Tuesday, where he arrived after a hard day's journey more taxing than he had undertaken for a long time, and on the Wednesday [19 February 1354] . . . he was in an exhausted condition at Dromiskin [his home], but nevertheless bade George to come to see him'.40 Details such as this help the reader to understand what sort of man he was, much more convincingly than idle speculation. Katherine Walsh's biography presents a real person, one who seems authentic, not least because the external, verifiable facts of his life may be checked against his own voluminous writings — his sermons, treatises, letters, the famous sermon-diary, and also the autobiographical prayer attached to his Summa de questionibus Armenorum, in which he thanks Christ as the via tuta, via recta, via laeta, veritas lucida, veritas valida, and veritas solida of his life when he was in personal danger.41 Naturally because he was such a controversial figure, other historians, especially earlier ones, have presented him in a different light. He appears, for instance, in a book entitled Pre-Reformation Worthies, which the Rev. W. Cowan published in 1897.42 This author had not a fraction of the information available to Gwynn, Pantin or Walsh, but there was sufficient evidence to 38. 39. 40. 41. 42.

Ibid., p. 156. Ibid., p. 152. Walsh, Richard FitzRalph, p. 313. See Pantin, English Church, pp. 153-54. W. Cowan, Pre-Reformation Worthies (London, 1897).

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allow him to present FitzRalph as 'the Irish Wycliffe', whom Foxe, as Cowan approvingly quotes for obvious reasons, calls 'a man worthy for his Christian zeal, of immortal commendation'.43 For Cowan, FitzRalph 'was unquestionably a man of enlightened views, considerably in advance of his age', whose views on the friars are to be regarded as wholly legitimate, because he 'was a precursor of the Reformation, and sowed seed which in after-days produced good fruit'. 44 Cowan even quotes Foxe's translation of the beginning of FitzRalph's autobiographical prayer as a testimony of his allegiance to Christ's church as distinct from the church in Avignon. This is a very different FitzRalph from the one described by Gwynn, Pantin and Walsh. For Cowan, he was a proto-Protestant, even a martyr: 'He loved truth and fought for it, and, we may say, died for it'.45 We may ask, which is the true FitzRalph? The veracity of biographies of Chaucer, FitzRalph and Wyclif, such as those discussed above, may be of no consequence whatever in the light of some modern critical theory, inasmuch as the narrative of a life may be interpreted in the same way as any other piece of literature. Hence Gardner's speculations about Chaucer's relationship with Cecily Champain or Hall's conjectures about Wyclif and FitzRalph may be as intellectually valid as the images of these medieval figures that emerge from the researches of Hulbert, Du Boulay, Pearsall, Aubrey Gwynn, and Katherine Walsh — perhaps more so, because Gardner and Hall devised their own criteria and then applied them to the lives of their respective subjects, acknowledging no scholarly doubts. Readers of biographies tend to know in advance what they want to find. Their preconceptions already entertain a degree of fantasy, so they are happy to deny or sidestep unpalatable facts because they often know 'the truth', especially if they identify themselves very closely with the subject of the biography. Hall and Gardner have written fantasies. They have short-circuited the process from subject to biographer to reader, and in so doing limit the reader's freedom to choose whether or not to imagine, for instance, the circumstances of Wyclif's birth or Chaucer's relationship with his wife Philippa. Conversely, the reader's freedom may equally be limited by the presentation of too many facts that may not suit the illusion, as we saw in the case of Albert Goldman's biography of Elvis Presley. There is no automatic correspondence between facts and truth. Chaucer himself seems to have recognised the problems involved in writing character-studies, which by their very nature apportion praise and blame, in The House of Fame. In that confusing poem, after much heart-searching, he himself apparently gave up the attempt to make sense of the art of biography. Yet we shall always remain curious about the character and personality of the man who lies beneath Brigham's monument to him in Westminster Abbey. 43. Ibid., p. 121. 44. Ibid., p. 130. 45. Ibid., p. 136.