Eve of Wilton

Goscelin of Canterbury was a monk and writer of hagiographies, producing (among others) one of Saint Edith of Wilton while he was chaplain to the nuns of Wilton Abbey. He did not know her personally, having been born years after Edith died. There was, however, a young nun of Wilton whom he clearly knew very well and for whom he wrote something special.

Eve of Wilton (c.1058 - c.1125) was given to Wilton Abbey as a child by her Danish father when she was about seven years old, eventually becoming a Benedictine nun. Goscelin was the chaplain at the time, and seems to have taken a special interest in her.

She left the Abbey when she was 22, going to Normandy and Chalonnes-sur-Loire in the Anjou region. Apparently, Goscelin was unaware of her departure, and was bothered that he was not consulted on her change of venue. She became an anchoress, living in a small cell with a single window through which books and food were passed for her.

Goscelin was moved to write a book for her, the Liber confortatorius ("Book of Consolation"). It starts out:

O my soul, dearer to me than the light, your Goscelin is with you, in the inseparable presence of the soul. He is with you, undivided, in his better part, that part with which he was allowed to love you, that part which cannot be hindered by any physical distance. ... Since your soul mate cannot and does not deserve to visit you in the flesh, he now seeks you out with anxious letters and long laments. ...

God's provident mercy has afforded us the consolation that, though distant in space, we can be present to each other in faith and in writing. Despite these torments of separation, which I deserved because of my crimes [italics are mine], a letter shuttling back and forth can reconnect us and keep us warm.

You have relinquished me and banished me from your sight, but your love will be able to see me in your reading and to take in my voice and my sighing words, using your eyes for ears ... Therefore do not think me cut off from you. 

The second paragraph's "which I deserved because of my crimes" suggests an Abelard and Heloise situation, an improper relationship between a male mentor and a female mentee in a religious setting. The Liber seems to be a guide for anchoresses, predating the Ancrene Wisse by several decades, but describes their relationship in a way that has caused modern readers to describe it as a "love letter."

The two never met again, and Goscelin encourages anyone finding the book to somehow get it to her.

We don't know if Eve ever saw the book written for her. Her life as an anchoress took an unusual turn. Anchoresses and anchorites usually stayed in their cell until death, but Eve forsook the anchoress life to live with a former monk named Hervé. This was highly unexpected, but we are told they were given approval by an abbot, Geoffrey of Vendôme.

The story of her on the continent was written about by an English poet called Hilary the Englishman. I want to talk about him next time.

Goscelin of Canterbury

In some ways, this is an extension of yesterday's post on the Politics of Saints, because Goscelin—our chief source of information on Edith of Wilton—was likely writing partly from belief and partly from the desire for financial benefit. Not financial benefit for him, of course—he was a Benedictine monk—but benefit to Wilton Abbey (shown, now a manor), for whose nuns he was chaplain. His writing elevated the status of the Abbey since it was the home of Edith of Wilton and her relics.

Goscelin (c.1040 - c.1106) may have been Fleming by birth. He became a monk at St. Bertin's in Saint-Omer in France before traveling to England and joining the household of Herman, Bishop of Ramsbury. (Some of this information comes from William of Malmesbury, some from Goscelin himself.) He probably arrived after the Norman Conquest in 1066.

He became secretary to the bishop and chaplain to the nuns. He was known for writing hagiographies—lives of saints—and these were always designed to put the saint's life in the best possible light. There is no doubt that he faithfully portrayed in his life of Saint Edith what the legends of Wilton Abbey said about her, but the tales of her visions as she appeared to others and urged her own canonization are suspect, as are the few miracles around her relics. He may also have written to please the rulers who believed in her.

After the bishop's death in 1078, his successor was not someone whom Goscelin respected. Osmund of Sées was a Norman, coming in with William of Normandy, and Goscelin for whatever reason did not approve of him. Goscelin traveled around after that, writing hagiographies of various saints. He wrote an account of translating (moving) the relics of St. Augustine in 1091, and dedicated the work to Anselm.

One of his writings was not a hagiography but a book of advice to a young woman at Wilton. He wrote this book not knowing if she would ever see it. The unusual circumstance, the book, and the young girl, will be tomorrow's topic.

To Marry a Nun

Seal of Queen Matilda

When King William II died mysteriously in 1100, his brother immediately ascended the throne. Needing a queen, he turned to Matilda of Scotland, then about 20 years old. There was one potential problem with this plan, however: Matilda was a nun.

Or was she?

Matilda was the daughter of Queen (later Saint) Margaret and Malcolm Canmore, King of Scotland (and the model for the Malcolm in Shakespeare's MacBeth). Her mother raised her with daily religious instruction and a ruthless attention to discipline: the steward had permission to beat any of her children if they exhibited bad manners.

At the age of six, Matilda (along with her three-year-old sister, Mary) was sent to Romsey Abbey in Hampshire, where their mother's sister was abbess. "Aunt Cristina" dressed the girls in the heavy black clothing of nuns and beat them regularly to remind them that they were sinful. Several years later, they were sent by their mother's instructions to Wilton Abbey in Wiltshire for further education, saving them from their aunt. Instruction included more than catechism: Matilda knew English, French and Latin, and was able to read St. Augustine and the Bible.

Romsey Abbey today

In 1100, Henry I's wish to marry her created a controversy. Was she a nun and ineligible for marriage? Henry wasn't sure, so he turned to the Archbishop of Canterbury, Anselm of Bec (c.1033-1109). Anselm, recently returned to England after a long time away, shied away from making that decision—although he was a brilliant theologian, he was possibly torn between betraying the Church and annoying a King—and called a council of bishops to debate the matter.

Matilda herself testified that she was never meant to be a nun, that her parents only sent her to abbeys because they wished her to be educated, and that she hated the nun's life and tore off the veil whenever she was out of sight of Abbess Cristina. The council concluded that Matilda was never supposed to be a nun after all, and gave permission for the marriage.