Dalon Abbey

In 1114, the ruler of Salles in France—Gerald de Salles, a French monastic reformer—wanted to found an abbey in the town of Sainte-Trie. He was a friend of the founder of Fontevraud (in French, Fontevrault) Abbey (where nobles like Eleanor of Aquitaine and Richard I would be interred), and wanted a Benedictine monastery there. In fact, he wanted several: he founded many Benedictine houses as well as communities of hermits.

The abbey was initially supported by donations from a couple knights, some other nobles, and the bishop of Limoges. Gerald's successor, a hermit named Roger, expanded into a "chain" of monasteries under the umbrella term "Order of Dalon," named for the Dalon River Valley.

In 1142, several monasteries in France and abroad were reforming themselves by adopting the more strict Cistercian Rule. Dalon Abbey in Saint-Trie and its daughter houses joined the Cistercian Order in 1162 under the command of its third abbot. Dalon opted to be a daughter house of the Cistercian Pontigny Abbey (also founded in 1114 as a Benedictine Abbey by a relative of Bernard of Clairvaux). This brought it to the attention of the Plantagenets, and Henry II, Eleanor of Aquitaine, and Richard I all became patrons and offered it their protection.

The well-known lord of Hautefort and troubadour Bertran de Born retired there as a monk after the death of his second wife. A son from that second wife, also named Bertran, joined him.

Much of the abbey compound has fallen into ruin. It is now private property, and the surviving structure has been adapted into a private dwelling (see above).

I mentioned that Gerald de Salles set up "communities" of hermits, which seems like a contradiction. Gerald was a follower of Vitalis de Savigny, whose simple lifestyle was an inspiration. Vitalis is venerated in the Catholic Church as a saint, who is not listed as a patron saint of anything in particular, but if he were, it would be of preventing wife abuse. I'll explain tomorrow.

Stephen of Blois

Stephen of Blois (c.1096 - 25 October 1154) was a nephew of King Henry I of England. His mother was (Saint) Adela, a daughter of William the Conqueror, who sent him to be raised at Henry's court (Stephen's father, Stephen-Henry of Blois, had died in 1102 while fighting in Jerusalem).

In 1125 Henry arranged a marriage with Matilda, Countess of Boulogne. Through her he became Count of Boulogne and inherited from her father estates in England, including Kent. The two were one of the wealthiest couples in England.

Stephen was in Barfleur  in Normandy with King Henry, Henry's son and heir William Adelin, and many other nobles. They had spent many months dealing with rebellions among Henry's Normandy possessions. To return to England, Thomas FitzStephen offered his newly re-fitted White Ship to take the king back to England. Henry had made other arrangements, and left on a different ship. His son, William, decided to go on the White Ship, but before they set sail, he allowed the crew and passengers ample wine to celebrate the end of their military campaigning.

The ship delayed its departure until it was late and quite dark, but thought it would be able to overtake the king's ship easily. They started out with 300 people on board and soon hit a rock one mile northeast of Barfleur. According to Order Vitalis, a single survivor, a butcher from Rouen, clung to the rock until rescued. Henry's heir and numerous other noblemen and noblewomen drowned.

For whatever reason—perhaps he was wary of a drunken crew setting sail in the dark—Stephen remained behind. William's own wife, Matilda, traveled a different ship. (Henry allowed his daughter-in-law to stay at court for as long as she wished. Eventually she returned to her family in Anjou, then took the veil at Fontevrault.)

Henry, without an heir (and recently without a wife), re-married in order to get an heir, declaring his daughter Matilda his heir-presumptive until he should have a better one. Stephen was among the nobles who pledged loyalty to his choice of Matilda. When Henry died in 1135 on the first of December without a male heir, however, Stephen lost no time in rushing to England to take the throne, ignoring Matilda's claim and his pledge, claiming that his fitness to rule outweighed the earlier oath. He was crowned on 22 December.

You may imagine that this decision did not sit well with Matilda, or with several nobles who felt her claim was to be honored. As for her next move, stay tuned.

Treating Corpses

A medieval reliquary from the collection in the
Metropolitan Museum of Art

Over a year ago I touched on funeral practices. A recent comment on that post has sent me back to look at, shall we say, "divergent practices." The comment was very pertinent: how do we account for attitudes toward saints' relics if preserving corpses was important?

It is important to remember that the Middle Ages is a thousand years of many different cultures; there will be no answers that account for all circumstances:

In medieval times the practice of body partition, artistic or actual, was fraught with "ambivalence, controversy, and profound inconsistency." The culture of ancient Rome had possessed strong taboos against moving or dividing corpses, and Christians of the third and fourth centuries maintained this intense concern for proper burial. Indeed, the belief that corporeal integrity is crucial to identity runs throughout medieval culture. The Parisian theologian Gervase of Mt.-St.-Eloi, for example, insisted that it was better to bury bodies intact so they would be "ready for the trumpet" (for the Last Judgment when, it was believed, the soul would be reunited with the body). [source]

Of course, bodies decay, and if Christians believed in bodily resurrection, they must also believe that resurrection would restore the decaying body to its living healthful status. Apparently, however, that belief did not include being able to re-assemble limbs if they had been separated, or restoring organs and cuts if there had been an autopsy.

Research, however, shows that attitudes toward the treatment of corpses were "contextual": important bodies—ones that had religiously or politically sentimental significance—could be partitioned for special purposes. Saints' relics are the most obvious example, but there were others. When Henry III died in 1272, he was interred in Westminster Abbey, but in 1292 his heart was removed and sent to Fontevrault Abbey because of his Angevin family connections.

And remember that the process of hanging, drawing and quartering was a special punishment for the worst of crimes: those who wanted to bring harm to the body of the king (and, by extension, the "body politic" of the country).

Clearly, the treatment of bodies depended on various and varying cultural attitudes, as well as on the needs of the culture to get further "value" from the person by utilizing (or abusing) the corpse after his or her death.