Vitalis of Savigny

In the 1170s, a canon of the Church of Saint-Evroult in Mortain (in northwestern France) wrote about a man who had died 50 years prior but whose legend lived on and needed to be recorded. The author was Stephen de Fougères, and the subject was Vitalis of Savigny.

Drawing from details in the mortuary roll (a monastery's record of prominent members who died), we learn little of Vitalis' origin except that he was born c.1060 and had a brother and a sister in a family that was not very prominent. At some point he was ordained and became chaplain to Robert of Mortain.

Robert of Mortain had founded the Church of Saint-Evroult in 1082, and made Vitalis a canon there. After a time, however, Vitalis felt the need for a more purely ascetic life. In 1095 he left Saint-Evroult and began a hermit colony with two others, Bernard of Thiron (who had already been a hermit for a time) and Robert of Arbrissel, the founder of Fontevraud Abbey.

Vitalis became known for his preaching to those who came to hear and/or join the hermitage, and for helping locals. One of his known activities was persuading prostitutes to enter proper marriages. He also traveled, apparently concentrating on Normandy but also visiting England. He tried to reconcile Robert Curthose with his brother, Henry I of England, whom it could be argued "stole" the kingship from the elder Curthose.

One of the incidents that was sufficiently noteworthy to be mentioned in the mortuary roll was his influence on his first patron, Robert of Mortain. The story goes that Robert was physically abusing his wife (probably Matilda, his first wife), and that Vitalis ended that behavior in one of two ways. One version of the incident had Vitalis threatening Robert with dissolving the marriage. A different version says that Vitalis cut ties to Robert and left over his disgust at Robert's behavior. Robert repented, and sent people to bring Vitalis back and begged his forgiveness (and presumably mended his ways).

Between 1105 and 1120, Vitalis founded a nunnery called Abbaye Blanche ("White Abbey"; possibly so-called because they wore habits of undyed wool) at Mortain and set up his sister, Adeline, as abbess. She was later canonized by the Catholic Church.

Between 1112 and 1122 (the year of his death) he founded the Savigny Abbey (see the remains above), a necessity because his life and works as a hermit drew so many people who wished to stay that some organizing principle was needed to manage so many. The Benedictine Rule was initially followed, but by 1150 it became Cistercian.

Vitalis' own sainthood was established in 1738 by the Cistercians, but his canonization by the Catholic Church was never recognized.

His first patron, Robert of Mortain, has a connection that is worth mentioning. Not just some ordinary nobleman, he was half-brother to William the Conqueror, and has some significance in history, which I'll explore further tomorrow. See you then.

Joachim de Fiore

In a message for the World Day of Creation (27 June, 2024), Pope Francis said of Joachim de Fiore that he  "was able to propose the ideal of a new spirit" and that this was a turning point in history. And Rick Searle, author of the Utopia or Dystopia blog, called him "The Man Who Invented the Future" in a 2015 post. These are extraordinary 21st century statements about a little-known 12th century monk. So who was Joachim de Fiore?

He was born in Calabria c.1135 to a good family who made sure he was educated to become a clerk of the courts and then follow his father's footsteps and become a notary.

On a pilgrimage to the Holy Land c.1159 he experienced a spiritual conversion that made him turn away from a worldly life. On his return to Calabria, he became a hermit, wandering and preaching for several years although he did not join an order. Lay preaching was not always an acceptable practice to church authorities, who pressured him to "form Alize" his actions by joining the monks of the Abbey of Corazzo, where he was ordained c.1168. He began studying Scripture intently, certain that there was meaning hidden there that had not yet been revealed or understood. He was especially concerned with the apostle John's book of Revelation.

Around this time he had become a counselor to Margaret of Navarre, mother and regent for the underage William II of Sicily, where he probably met Peter of Blois.

About 1177 the monks of Corazzo, impressed by his scholarship and piety, made him their abbot, a responsibility and authority which he did not crave. In 1182, after trying and failing to join Corazzo to the Cistercian Order because of Corazzo's poverty, and convincing William II of Sicily to grant Corazzo some lands, he got permission from Pope Lucius III to step down as abbot and find another home. Joachim went to the Abbey of Casamari, which had recently changed from Benedictine to the more strict Cistercian Order. There he wrote three books: The Harmony of the New and Old Testaments, Exposition of Apocalypse, and the Psaltery of Ten Strings.

He was one of those rare people in this era who was writing things people had not said before, but did not get declared heretical. Lucius III and succeeding popes approved of what he was saying, and his fame spread. Constance the Empress of Sicily invited him to hear her confession, and left her raised chair to sit on the ground when he pointed out the need to humble herself. Richard the Lionheart met with him prior to the Third Crusade to get advice. The Spirituals of the Franciscans declared him a prophet (which Joachim denied).

In 1200 he submitted all of his writing to Pope Innocent III for examination and approval. Sadly, he died in 1202 before the results and before he could finish his final book, Tract on the Four Gospels, but his works were copied and distributed widely.

What was it that he wrote that created such an impact that, 800 years later, a pope would call his work a turning point and a scholar would call him the man who invented the future? I'll go. explain that tomorrow, but leave you with this teaser: by "future" Searle did not mean he predicted what things would be like in the future. Searle meant that Joachim invented the concept of the future. Stay tuned.

Aelred's Later Life

Aelred of Rievaulx took a successful abbey and made it even more grand (although the illustration will show that its fortunes have fallen somewhat, thanks of course to Henry VIII).

Rievaulx was intended at its founding by Bernard of Clairvaux to spread Cistercian reform ideas across the north. By the time Aelred became abbot (1147), the abbey was only about 15 years old, but already had five daughter houses in England and Scotland. Residents had to accept a life of physical deprivation in exchange for spiritual rewards. Aelred wrote a guide for novices called Speculum caritatis ("The Mirror of Charity"), warning them:

Our food is scanty, our garments rough; our drink is from the stream and our sleep upon our book. Under our tired limbs there is a hard mat; when sleep is sweetest we must rise at a bell’s bidding … self-will has no scope; there is no moment for idleness or dissipation … Everywhere peace, everywhere serenity, and a marvellous freedom from the tumult of the world.

Despite these conditions, by the end of Aelred's term as abbot, the abbey had doubled to 140 monks and 500 lay brothers.

He wrote extensively. He wrote biographies of King David I of Scotland, Saint Ninian (mentioned here), and Edward the Confessor. He also produced treatises on the life of Jesus at the age of 12, anchoresses, spiritual friendship, and other topics. There are several sermons that have survived, and histories of Genealogia regum Anglorum ("Genealogy of the Kings of the English"), Relatio de Standardo ("On the Account of the Standard"), and De bello standardii ("On the Battle of the Standard"), about the Battle of the Standard, and a couple on miracles, specially those connected to the Church of Hexham where Aelred was born. His treatise De spirituali amicitiâ ("Spiritual Friendship"), has prompted modern scholars to suggest that he was homosexual.

His job as abbot was to travel to the daughter houses regularly, and visit the general chapter of the Cistercians at Cîteaux in France once each year. This was difficult for him as he got older, especially since it appears he suffered from arthritis and kidney stones. His biographer, the Rievaulx monk Walter Daniel, reports that in 1157 he got permission to sleep in the infirmary rather than his own cell. He died in the winter of 1166-67, aged about 57. He is venerated as a saint by both the Catholic Church and the Anglican Communion. He is considered the patron saint of bladder problems; more recently LGBTQ Christians have embraced him as well.

Was there something particular about St. Ninian that made Aelred feel motivated to write his biography? And was Ninian even his name? Let's figure that out next time.

Aelred of Rievaulx

In 1134, a man in his 20s entered Rievaulx, a Cistercian abbey in North Yorkshire. A sentence like this has been written many times in this blog, but it usually refers to a younger son of a family who had no prospects in life other than the church. In this case, however, the young man had already had a significant career that could have lasted his whole lifetime, and he gave it all up. A monk at Rievaulx who knew Aelred, Walter Daniel, wrote a biography of Aelred, giving us more biographical detail than we usually have on anyone from this time period.

Aelred of Rievaulx was born c.1110 in Hexham in Northumberland, one of three sons of a priest named Eilaf. (Archbishop Anselm of Canterbury's prohibition against clerical marriage was very recent.) Although priests still had sons, a 1095 order from the Council of Claremont forbade the sons of priests to become priests (the idea was to prevent inheritance of benefices, since a bishop or higher-ranking prelate should decide where a benefice goes when a priest dies).

He would have been educated at the cathedral school at Durham. We know he spent several years at the court of King David I of Scotland, and was there long enough to rise to the title echonomus, a word related to "economy" and indicating that he was a steward or seneschal, possible the steward of the king's household, managing all of the "below stairs" members of staff. While in this role, Walter Daniel tells us of an incident where a knight harassed him and used a degrading sexual slur. Daniel uses this anecdote as an example of Aelred's capacity for forgiveness, but the incident seems to have made Aelred depressed and disillusioned with court life.

On a mission for David to Thurstan, Archbishop of York, Aelred learned of Rievaulx Abbey, founded only two years earlier by monks from Clairvaux Abbey in northeastern France. Aelred realized that a religious life was his true calling, and joined Rievaulx. A few years later he was part of a delegation to Rome to see Pope Innocent II. The purpose was to present northern England delegates who opposed the election of Henry de Sully as Archbishop of York; although de Sully was an abbot, his main qualification was that he was a nephew of Stephen of Blois, whose seizing of the throne of England caused The Anarchy. Their delegation was successful.

After Rome, Aelred in 1143 was made abbot of Revesby Abbey in Lincolnshire, founded that year as a daughter house of Rievaulx. Not long after, in 1147, he was made abbot of Rievaulx itself. According to his biographer, Aelred "doubled everything" at Rievaulx. The buildings, the members, the resources—all increased under Aelred at what was an already flourishing complex.

Tomorrow, we'll talk more about Aelred's leadership and authorship. See you then.

The Accidental Pope

Jacques Fournier (c.1285 - 25 April 1342) was born in Foix, a county in the southern part of France. He earned a Doctor of Philosophy at the University of Paris, joined the Cistercians, and became abbot of the Cistercian Fontfroide Abbey in 1311. His organizational ability and intelligence brought him attention, and he was made Bishop of Pamiers in 1317.

As bishop he focused on rooting out Catharism, a heresy that was hanging on in his area. He helped Bernardo Gui and the Inquisition in this matter; the result was the Fournier Letters, records of the questioning that six centuries later became a best-seller. His efforts in fighting heresy brought him a promotion to Bishop of Mirepoix in 1326, and a cardinal a year later. While in Avignon, Pope John XXII—who was particularly concerned about magic—charged him with examining the works of William of Ockham, German mystic Meister Eckhart, Michael of Cesena, and others, looking for heresy.

Pope John died 4 December 1334; the Conclave was opened nine days later. The majority were ready to elect Cardinal Jean-Raymond de Comminges, but he had to promise not to return the papacy to Rome. Comminges would not make any prior commitments. The Conclave called his bluff by declaring their newest cardinal, Fournier, as a candidate. Because he was new, it was assumed he would not win an election. The Conclave should have planned more carefully: the vote was taken and Fournier won, surprising everyone who assumed they could vote for him but surely the majority would not, right?

Too late. The vote was legitimate, causing Fournier to exclaim "You have elected an ignoramus!" He took the name Benedict XII at his investiture on 8 January 1335. He worked hard to reform and standardize practices and expectations of the religious orders.

He died in his mid-50s, in 1342, but in his seven years as pope he accomplished a lot, and had a failure that led to one of the most defining events of the Middle Ages. We're going to take a look at the rest of his résumé tomorrow.

The Canterbury Cathedral Chapter Controversy

When Peter of Blois' old law professor, Baldwin of Forde (pictured here outside of Canterbury Cathedral), became Archbishop of Canterbury, Peter might have been happy about renewing old acquaintance. Baldwin, however had some changes in mind that created a controversy that no one else wanted.

The controversy surrounded the chapter house of Benedictine monks. All well and good, but Baldwin belonged to the Cistercians, who branched off from the Benedictines around 1100 because they felt the Benedictines had not been rigorous enough at following the Rule of St. Benedict. They kept the rule, but amended it with ideas from Bernard of Clairvaux.

Baldwin felt the Benedictines were too worldly: diocesan properties that belonged to Canterbury Cathedral had been put in their hands to support their management of pilgrim traffic, especially around the shrine of Thomas Becket. Baldwin also took back the Easter offerings that had been allowed to go to the Benedictine chapter by Pope Lucius III. Baldwin wanted it for the diocese.

Baldwin was also determined to move the chapter north of Canterbury to Hackington.

The Benedictines complained to the current pope, Urban III, who had also been one of Peter's teachers. They also wrote to every bishop and archbishop, and even to King Philip II of France, looking for support. Peter, who had studied law under Baldwin and had been persuasive in the past, was sent to Rome by Baldwin to argue his case. The Benedictines, however, were represented by a skilled full-time Roman lawyer named Pillius, and Peter was no match for him.

Peter argued for months, and wasn't helped by Baldwin, who continued to do provocative things back in Canterbury. The pope had ordered the demolishing of the Hackington building, but Baldwin continued the construction. Baldwin seized the manors of the chapter and excommunicated the monks. Peter followed the papal court to Ferrara in October 1187 to continue to debate on Baldwin's behalf, but Baldwin's refusal to follow papal orders incensed Urban. Urban died on 19 October—Peter's account says it was dysentery—and the new pope, Gregory VIII, was elected on 21 October. He did not take a strong stand on the issue before dying in December and being succeeded by Clement III.

None of these changes in the chair of St. Peter helped Baldwin's case, although he took advantage of the transitions to continue his changes. On 26 January 1188, Clement sent a letter: Baldwin was to cease his changes and restore everything to the way it was prior to his meddling. Once again, however, he ignored the orders until August 1189 when Richard I (who had just become king after his father's death a month before) forced him to submit to the papal resolution.

Why did Baldwin think he could so readily ignore the pope(s)? What was England's royal policy on the controversy boiling over in its most important cathedral diocese? Who did Baldwin think he was? Let's take a close look at the man who started it all next time.

The Prolific Caesarius

A popular source of stories of miracles and of subjects for sermons was the body of work produced by Caesarius of Heisterbach (c.1180 - c.1240), commemorated here in a statue erected in 1897.

Caesarius was the prior (an administrator of an abbey, but not the abbot) of the Cistercian Heisterbach Abbey in western Germany. He wrote Dialogus miraculorum ("dialogue of miracles"), in which a monk tells tales of 746 miracles by saints to a young novice. About 60 versions still exist that were made by hand, suggesting that it was almost as popular as Jacobus de Voragine's Golden Legend.

He also produced sermons, which he claimed he had to make public because monks asked for more detail on his statements. One of his books deals specifically with his interpretation of the phrase Ave praeclara maris stella ("Hail bright star of the sea"), a nickname for the Virgin Mary and a 9th century hymn found in old manuscripts in the Abbey of St. Gall and elsewhere.

In one of his works he wrote about the fairly recent sack of the town of Béziers during the Albigensian Crusade led by fellow Cistercian Arnaud Amalric. Supposedly, when Arnaud was asked how to distinguish between Cathars and Catholics in the town, he said Caedite eos. Novit enim Dominus qui sunt eius ("Slay them all, the Lord will know his own"). This is apocryphal, but is considered the origin of the oft-used phrase "Kill them all and let God sort them out." He also is known for a paradoxical maxim about monasteries: that discipline causes prosperity and then prosperity undermines discipline.

Caesarius complained that his writings were taken and distributed before they were finished and proofread. Perhaps it was in this context that he blamed a demon for errors in his works. That demon was Titivillus, and he will be the subject of my next post.

The First Mass Murderer

I have mentioned the 12th century heresy called Catharism. The attempts to stamp it out are called the Albigensian Crusade (and sometimes the Cathar Crusade). One prominent Crusader was Arnaud Amalric.

Arnaud was a Cistercian (a branch of Benedictines), who became abbot of Cîteaux from 1202 to 1212. In 1204 he was sent by Pope Innocent III to attempt the conversion of the Albigensians who followed Catharism. His attempts to convert them to mainstream Catholicism did not work, and so his preaching turned to speaking out against them to those who would listen. This was followed by leading a Crusade against Catharism, the first major military operation of which was a 22 July 1209 attack on the town of Béziers in southern France.

In a letter to Innocent in August 1209, he describes the attack:

...while discussions were still going on with the barons about the release of those in the city who were deemed to be Catholics, the servants and other persons of low rank and unarmed attacked the city without waiting for orders from their leaders. To our amazement, crying "to arms, to arms!", within the space of two or three hours they crossed the ditches and the walls and Béziers was taken. Our men spared no one, irrespective of rank, sex or age, and put to the sword almost 20,000 people. After this great slaughter the whole city was despoiled and burnt...

The number 20,000 is clearly an exaggeration, but his description of the wholesale slaughter "irrespective of rank, sex or age" is likely to be more or less accurate. Because the sack of Bèziers apparently did not distinguish between Cathars and Catholics, Arnaud is reported to have said at the time "Kill them. For the Lord knows who are His."

This is considered the origin of an oft-repeated line: "Kill them all and let God sort them out." Arnaud's line was recorded 13 years later by Caesarius of Heisterbach, prior of a Cistercian abbey. Caesarius was not an eyewitness, never met Arnaud, and we have no proof that Arnaud actually said this, but some use the incident to refer to Arnaud Amalric as the first proponent of mass murder.

Arnaud was named archbishop of Narbonne in 1212, after which we hear little about him. He died on 29 September 1225.

As for his imaginative chronicler, Caesarius of Heisterbach, I'll tell you a little more tomorrow, as well as his identification of a particularly unhelpful demon.

Margaret Kirkby

Margaret Kirkby (c.1322 - 1391/4 CE) was an anchoress in a couple locations in England. Although she withdrew from public life to devote herself to a contemplative life worshipping God (in a cell like the illustration to the left), we  actually know quite a bit about her.

Growing up in a landowning family in Ravensworth, North Yorkshire, she made the acquaintance of Richard Rolle, the spiritual director of the Cistercian convent at Hampole. He wrote for her an English translation of the Psalms, with commentary relating the Psalms (which are, technically, songs) with his concept of canor, the idea that sound—specifically through singing things like the Psalms—can link the devout to God.

Rolle wrote his own version of the Ancrene Wisse, called The Form of Living, in which he warned her of the difficulties she would face as an anchoress cut off from his guidance. He also sent her copies of other of his writings.

Margaret Kirkby and Richard Rolle had an interesting relationship. She suffered from seizures while in her cell, and Rolle would sit at the window to her cell and comfort her with her head on his shoulder.

Margaret's career as an anchoress took an unusual turn in 1357 when she was allowed to leave her cell in Hampole and enter a cell at a church in Ainderby that would allow her to observe Mass. Remarkably, she reversed this in the early 1380s, returning to the Hampole convent for her remaining years.

Anchorites were not too numerous, and having an extremely devout person sealed away in the church (or some other building's) wall was rare enough that the spectacle drew visitors and donors. A silver ewer was bequeathed to her by one of her patrons, Sir Bryan Stapleton, in 1394. She did not get to enjoy its use for long, however, since she died in 1394.

The man who guided her to and through the religious life, Richard Rolle, became one of the most widely read authors in the hundred years after he died. We will meet Richard Rolle next time.

The Carthusians

Saint Hugo persuades Bruno of Cologne
to found the Carthusian Order
(cathedral window in Grenoble, France)

The Carthusians have been mentioned here before, when Geert Groote gave away all his possessions to that order. A few days ago was the anniversary of the death (6 October 1101) of the founder of the Carthusians, Bruno of Cologne.

Born in Cologne about 1030, he may have studied at the college of St. Cunibert (where Pepin the Short interred the remains of the Two Ewalds). We do know that he went to Reims for his later education—he was probably there when Anne of Kiev got married in the Cathedral—studying Holy Scripture and the Church Fathers. By 1055 he had returned to Cologne and been made a canon at St. Cunibert, but was called back to Reims by its bishop and put in charge of the local schools, a position he maintained until 1075. (One of his students later became Pope Urban II.)

Bruno eventually gave up the administrative duties, refusing the rille of a bishop for something more contemplative. He first spent time with Robert of Molesme, who later founded the Cistercian Order.

When he founded his own order, in 1084, Bruno decided it would be for both men and women. No abbots, because there would be no abbeys; a hermitage would be overseen by a prior. Priests and nuns (or lay brothers and sisters) would be hermits, shutting themselves off from the outside world in small cells. The day would be spent in prayer and labor...and silence.

The first hermitage was built in the Chartreuse Mountains in the French Alps. It is from these mountains that the word "Carthusian" comes. (Also, the monks started producing a cordial in the 1740s called "Chartreuse." From the color of the cordial comes the color chartreuse.)

As penance for the death of St. Thomas Becket, King Henry II built a Carthusian charter house in 1182 in Somerset.

The Homeless Pope

Hugh of Jabala tells Pope Eugene about Prester John

Many of you know about the decades when the papacy was headquartered in Avignon (finally returned to Rome by Gregory XI). But not all popes outside of the Avignon situation enjoyed the benefits of Roman living.

Bernardo of Pisa was a Cistercian monk and a close friend of Bernard of Clairvaux. He became Pope Eugene III in 1145, mostly because no one else wanted the job. Ironically, his election probably had a lot to do with being a friend of Bernard of Clairvaux, who at the time was one of the strongest voices for Christianity and was a strong proponent of the pope's authority to wield temporal power; I call it ironic, because Bernard objected to his friend being made pope because he was too mild-mannered and would not be assertive enough as pope.

Eugene had a transient papacy. He left the City to be consecrated in the Abbey of Farfa, in the northern part of Lazio (the region at the center of which lies Rome). While he was gone, Arnold of Brescia (an opponent of the pope's temporal power) convinced the City to change its political structure and shut its gates to the pope.

Italy at the time (and right up through the 18th century) was not a unified country so much as a peninsula with different regions and city-states that eyed each other as competitors or even enemies. Eugene turned to Tivoli (near Rome) and other cities and to Roger II of Sicily to join him in opposing Rome.

He was able to return to Rome, but shortly after angered the citizens by not agreeing to fight Tivoli, and he was exiled again. He traveled to other cities, and then to France where he held synods in the late 1140s. Returning to Italy in 1149, he fled to Tusculum shortly after and stayed there until 1150, after meeting King Louis VII of France and his wife, Eleanor of Aquitaine, who were returning from Crusade. With Roger of Sicily's help he was able to return to Rome, but pressure made him retire soon after.

While sojourning through parts of Italy and souther Europe, he managed to see and approve of the works of Hildegard of Bingen. The legend of Prester John started with a report made to Pope Eugene from Bishop Hugh of Jabala.

As much as he tried to do, however, most of it was done while "on the road," and he had little time to enjoy his title of "Bishop of Rome."

Monk Lord of the Manor

For some reason, a 12th century Norman knight named Jocelin did not want his son to follow in his footsteps. We do not know why, but a common modern assumption is that Jocelin's son, Gilbert of Sempringham (c.1089-1190), had some physical deformity that would have made his career as a knight and warrior untenable. Whatever the case, Jocelin sent his son to study theology at the University of Paris.

Gilbert came back to England in 1120 and, after being given the parishes of Sempringham and Tirington, joined the household of the Bishop of Lincoln, Robert Bloet (who started as a clerk in the household of William the Conqueror and later became Chancellor).

He used his revenue from Tirington to aid the poor, and lived on the revenue from Sempringham. Robert Bloet's successor as Bishop of Lincoln ordained him a deacon, then as a priest after 1123, but when offered the archdeaconry of Lincoln he refused.

In 1130 his father died. Gilbert inherited his father's Lincolnshire manor and lands, and returned there. He did not, however, abandon the religious life. He now had the income to execute some grander plans. He decided to found his own monastic order.

The Gilbertines were originally composed of young men and women who had known and/or been taught by Gilbert in the parish school. It is the only monastic order founded in England. He used the Cistercians as his model, but when he appealed to the Cistercians themselves in later years for aid in maintaining and expanding the Gilbertines, he was rejected because of his inclusion of women.

Things turned sour for Gilbert in 1165, when he was imprisoned by King Henry II on the suspicion that he aided the fugitive Thomas Becket. He was eventually exonerated. Trouble found Gilbert again about 1180 when the lay brothers among the Gilbertines rose up because they were worked too hard (to enable the religious brothers to spend their days in prayer). The case was taken to Rome, but Pope Alexander III supported the 90-year-old Gilbert. Still, it is reported that living conditions for lay brothers improved afterward.

Gilbert, blind for the last few years of his life, resigned as head of the Gilbertines. He died in 1190 at the estimated age of 100+. His canonization did not take long: Pope Innocent III confirmed his sainthood in 1202, placing his Feast Day on 4 February, the day of his death, but it is now celebrated on 11 February.

The Music of Las Huelgas

From a facsimile edition of the Codex

[DailyMedieval is on semi-hiatus for the holidays, and I am re-cycling some older posts. Today's is new, however, inspired by a music CD I received: Secret Voices by the female a capella group Anonymous 4.]

The Abbey of Santa Maria la Real de Las Huelgas was founded in 1187 by Alfonso VIII of Castile, at the request of his wife, Eleanor of England, the daughter if Henry II an Eleanor of Aquitaine. It was founded on land that was going unused at the time; huelgas meant land that is fallow, although nowadays it is used to refer to "labor strikes."

Its origin granted it many royal privileges: it was exempt from taxes, held many valuable items that belonged to royal families, and became a traditional site for many royal weddings, such as that between Edward I of England and Eleanor of Castile. The monastery became Cistercian in 1199 and the burial sit for the royal family. Two of the first royal burials were the founders, Alfonso VIII and Eleanor of England.

Known for the privileges of its abbess, and for the hospital founded by Alfonso VIII, Las Huelgas gave to the modern world one more fascinating item left over from the Middle Ages: music.

In 1904, while doing research on the origins and development of Gregorian chant, two Benedictine monks found a manuscript in Las Huelgas containing 45 monophonic pieces and 141 polyphonic pieces. They are written on fairly durable parchment in red and black ink with Franconian notation (briefly discussed here and here). The Las Huelgas Codex includes many pieces familiar to scholars, but also pieces that are not recorded elsewhere.

Most of the pieces are from the late 13th century, when it is known that Las Huelgas had a 100-woman choir. We have to assume that, despite the Cistercian rules against the performance of polyphonic music, the choir of Las Huelgas performed these pieces at will, thanks to their royal patronage and privileges (the abbess was allowed for a long time to call synods, confirm abbesses of other monasteries, and even hear confession and grant absolution!).

Here is a recording of the Benedicta et venerabilis II and the Benedicamus dominu, with pictures from the Abbey's architecture and art. Enjoy!

Queen Lionheart

Let us look at a classic "political marriage."

Eleanor of Aquitaine, wife of Henry II of England and  mother of Richard called Lionheart, wanted the best possible match for her son. He was originally betrothed to Princess Alys, the sister of King Philip II of France, but she saw other opportunities for him.

In 1190, while Richard was on the Third Crusade, Eleanor met with King Sancho VI of Navarre, who hosted a banquet for her in Pamplona. It is likely that Eleanor negotiated the marriage of her son to Berengaria, the daughter of Sancho and his Queen, Sancha of Castile. Berengaria had been given the fief of Monreal in 1185; that, and an alliance between Richard and Navarre, would give protection to the southern border of the Aquitaine, the province in southern France that Eleanor had given to Richard. Berengaria had other fine qualities: commentators of the time say she was both attractive and intelligent.

Eleanor decided there was no time to waste, and she (now in her 60s!) and Berengaria undertook the long journey to meet with Richard. They caught up with him in Messina on the Island of Sicily. This was possibly the first time Richard and Beregaria ever met, although some believe there was an earlier occasion when they saw each other.

Richard ended his betrothal to Alys that year (after all, there were rumors that his father was having an affair with her). Unfortunately, it was Lent during their time in Sicily, so a marriage ceremony was not appropriate. Richard embarked on the next leg of the Third Crusade, and Berengaria took ship with Richard's sister, Joan of England, the widowed Queen of Sicily.* The ladies' ship foundered off the coast of Cyprus, where Isaac Comnenus opportunistically took them prisoner. When Richard learned of this, he brought part of his army to Cyprus, defeated and captured Comnenus, and took control of Cyprus. Berengaria and Richard were married on 12 May 1191, then left Cyprus for Palestine.

Once arriving in the Holy Land, Berengaria left for Poitou. It is likely that she never saw her husband again. When Richard was going home in 1194, he was captured in Germany. Berengaria and Eleanor separately raised ransom money. Richard spent little time in England as king, and Berengaria never went there, preferring her own southern lands. She did not attend his funeral at Fontevrault.

After Richard's death, his brother John refused to pay Berengaria's pension, despite intervention by Eleanor and Pope Innocent III. John's son, Henry III, finally paid the debt of £4000. She used some of the money to found a Cistercian monastery, the Pietas Dei at L’Épau. When she died, on 23 December 1230, she was buried there, rather than at Fontevrault next to her husband.

*Richard's diversion to Sicily was to free his sister from imprisonment by the usurper, Tancredi.

Hedwig (Not the Owl)

The name "Hedwig" is now familiar to millions as the name of Harry Potter's owl, but it has a long history that predates its use by Rowling. Hedwig is from Old High German Haduwig (hadu=battle + wig=fight), and would have been pronounced het-vich. Hedy (as in Lamarr) is a diminutive form of the name. The best-known Hedwig in history (that is, prior to 1997) was a 12th century saint.

Family of St. Hedwig*

Hedwig (1174-1243) was born at the castle of Andechs, and became duchess of Silesia. She is alternately known as St. Hedwig of Silesia or St. Hedwig of Andechs. According to what records we have, she was educated at a monastery at Kitzingen, and married off at the age of 12 to Henry I "The Bearded" of Silesia (1165-1238). Although Henry was Polish, his mother was German and he had been educated in Germany; with his marriage, his ties to Germany and its ruling class became stronger. He preferred the German culture over the Polish, and under him "Silesia became German in language and customs."[note]

Hedwig's reputation was built on her piety and fortitude in supporting established monasteries and founding new ones. These monasteries helped spread the German culture of which Henry was fond. As well as establishing monasteries of Augustinian Canons and Cistercians, Hedwig also brought Dominicans (at Bunzlau and Breslau) and Franciscans (at Goldberg and Krossen) to Silesia.

Hediwg did not just spend her husband's money in doing good works. She tended leper women at Neumarkt. Her behavior inspired Henry to establish (at his own expense) the first religious foundation for women in Silesia: a convent of Cistercian nuns at Trebnitz in 1203. The second abbess was said to have been the Blessed Gertrude (c.1200-1268), the sixth child of Hedwig and Henry.

Hedwig had seven children that we know of—only one of which, Gertrude, outlived her—after which she convinced her husband that they should take vows of chastity. Henry even took on the tonsure of a monk and let his beard grow out (hence his nickname). Hedwig began to spend much of her later life in prayer at the Abbey at Trebnitz. On Henry's death in 1238, she settled into Trebnitz permanently, wearing the gray of a Cistercian (although she never took monastic vows), and died there 5 years later.

The piety and care she showed in life impressed more than her husband. In 1227, Henry was captured by Conrad of Masovia after a military engagement over the possession of Cracow; Conrad hauled him off to captivity. Hedwig immediately traveled to Conrad's location, where her appearance and eloquent pleas for her husband made such an impression that Henry was released.

Upon her death, she was buried in the church attached to Trebnitz.  Clement IV took time out from asking Roger Bacon to write books to make her a saint on 26 March 1267.

*From left to right: (front, kneeling) daughter Sophia, son Conrad the Curly; (back, standing) daughter Gertrude, eldest daughter Agnes, son and heir Henry II the Pious, son Boleslaw; (back, sitting) St. Hedwig, Henry I the Bearded.