Saint Margaret of Scotland

Margaret of Wessex was almost 50 years old in 1093 when her husband, King Malcolm III of Scotland, and her eldest son went to war against the English at the Battle of Alnwick, where they were killed on 13 November. Tradition says that her son Ethelred, the lay abbot of Dunkeld, was with her when her son Edgar brought the news.

Margaret died three days later; no one assumes the cause was anything other than grief.

Her close friend, advisor, and biographer, Turgot of Durham, left us with a record of extreme piety. She worked on church reform, trying to bring the practices of the Scottish church closer to those of the continent (where she spent her childhood) and Rome. She performed charitable works, even washing the feet of the poor. She rose each midnight to attend Mass. She brought the Benedictines to establish a monastery at Dunfermline, and paid to establish ferries across the Firth of Forth to allow pilgrims to reach Saint Andrew's in Fife.

Her husband, whom the records call illiterate (but those may have been motivated by political enemies) admired her learning and had her books decorated in gold and silver. A pocket Gospel of hers is in the Bodleian.

Margaret was buried before the high altar at Dunfermline Abbey. Her husband's body had been interred in Tynemouth Priory, but was brought to Dunfermline for reburial near his wife during the reign of their son Alexander (1107 - 1124). That was not, however, the end of their love story.

Pope Innocent IV canonized Margaret in 1250 in recognition of her good works and personal piety. As a result, her body was disinterred at Dunfermline and the remains immediately placed into a reliquary appropriate for a saint of the Catholic Church. When they tried to carry the reliquary to its new location (a new shrine at Dunfermline), however, the path went past the location of Malcolm's remains. Those transporting the reliquary claimed it suddenly became too heavy to move. Interpreting this as a desire for Margaret to remain near her husband, Malcolm's body was likewise disinterred and placed near hers.

That was not the end of her body's travels. Mary Queen of Scots had Margaret's head exhumed and brought to Edinburgh as a "good luck charm" to assist in childbirth (N.B.: her son James was not born until 1566). In 1597 the head went to the Jesuits at the Scots College in France, but it was lost during the French revolution. The rest of her (and Malcolm) was transferred to Madrid by Philip II of Spain, but the location of their remains has been lost.

Malcolm and Margaret had several sons, any one of which could have assumed the throne in 1093 after Malcolm and his eldest, Edward, died. That was not to be the case, however. Malcolm's successor was Donald III, who swept in and laid siege to Edinburgh and Malcolm's family. Where did he come from? Let's look into that next time.

St. Walburga's Abbey

In the 1930s, two Benedictine abbeys were formed from the original in Eichstätt, Bavaria. One was in Thanet, where the nuns of Eichstätt bought and renovated the original 7th century complex founded by Domne Eafe. The other was in Colorado, where three nuns from Eichstätt purchased land considered by the monks that owned it to be un-farmable. With help from m ore nuns, they turned the land into a working farm; 60 years later they relocated (see illustration) to Virginia Dale, Colorado, where they remain a thriving community.

In both cases, the reason from branching out from Eichstätt was to flee from spreading Nazism.

This was not the first time nuns from the Eichstätt abbey took on a mission to America, however. A missionary monk from Bavaria challenged the nuns of St. Walburga's in 1851 to go to America to provide proper religious instruction to German immigrants. Three nuns took a steamer a year later, arriving in New York during the July 4th celebrations. They settled in St. Marys, PA. Not longer after, joined by reinforcements from Eichstätt, they created communities in the northwest territory that would soon become the state of Minnesota.

The origin of these nuns was the Abbey of St. Walburga, founded in 1055 to properly house the relics of Walburga (c.710-779). Her tomb in her last home of the abbey of Heidenheim had originally fallen to neglect. During renovations by Bishop Otkar of Eichstätt, she appeared to him in a dream and asked him why her remains were being “trampled upon by the dirty feet of builders.” He had her remains transferred to a new building which became the current Abbey of St. Walburga, populated by Benedictine nuns. This is where her bones started to exude miraculous Oil of Saints.

"Walburga" sounds like "Walpurgis"; is there a connection? Let's find out tomorrow.

Domne Eafe, Mother & Saint

The mother of Saint Mildred was Domne Eafe—also Domneva, or Lady Eva—a great-granddaughter of King Æthelbert of Kent. She married King Merewalh of Mercia. They had at least three children, three daughters who all became abbesses and saints. There was supposedly a son who died early (called Merlin in some later legends).

Domneva had two brothers— Æthelbert and Æthelred who were being raised by King Eorcenbert of Kent, —a grandson of Æthelbert through Eadbald. When he died, Eorcenbert's son Ecgbert killed Æthelbert and Æthelred. Feeling guilty, Ecgbert gave Domneva land in Thanet as wergild to build an abbey.

A later legend goes into detail about the land granted by King Ecgbert: she was to be given as much land as her pet deer could run around in a single lap. The result was 80 sulungs of land. A sulung was a local Kentish unit of measurement, the amount that could be ploughed by four ox-pairs. Put another way, a sulung was two hides, and a hide was the equivalent of 120 acres, the amount a household needed to thrive. To the Anglo-Saxons, a hide was also the unit on which public obligations (taxes, supporting the lord in times of war, etc.) were based.

So she got an enormous space to use. To be fair, it is unlikely that the legend is true and she got that much (19,200 acres), but there was enough land to give her standing in the wider community as well as the status that being an abbess offers. Her name appears in many charters of the time as a witness, as well as the beneficiary of grants.

Domneva ran the abbey along Benedictine rules. She was succeeded by her daughter, St. Mildred. Mildred was followed as abbess about 733 by Eadburga, a friend and student of Mildred who also became a saint. You can see Domneva in the illustration, flanked by her two successors. By Eadburga's time the abbey had 70 nuns. She secured some royal charters to ensure its growth and continuation, and built a new church dedicated to Saints Peter and Paul, which housed the relics of St. Mildred.

Although the abbey was dissolved by Henry VIII and had various uses over the years, it was bought in 1937 by Benedictine nuns from St.Walburga's Abbey in Eichstätt in Bavaria. Why did Benedictine nuns in Bavaria want to revive an abbey in England? This was not just a 20th century story, nor just a European story. I'll explain that 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.

Cluny Abbey

William I, Duke of Aquitaine, founded Cluny Abbey in 910. Built in the Romanesque style, it had a basilica that was the largest in the world until the 16th century and St. Peter's in Rome.

More important than its size, however, was its strict adherence to the Rule of St. Benedict. Abbeys and monasteries had become lax for many reasons, and Duke William—whose nickname was "the Pious"—desired to restore a measure of piety and devoutness. He appointed Berno of Baume as its first abbot. Berno had established Baume Abbey on Benedictine principles of prayer, silence, and solitude. Baume later became a priory of the more significant Cluny, rather than an independent abbey.

Cluny had many supporters as its reputation as the leader of western monasticism grew. One was Pope Urban II of First Crusade fame, seen here consecrating the third Cluny church. Cluniac Reforms also promoted pilgrimages to the Holy Lands (which dovetailed with Urban's desire for a Crusade).

Interestingly, "poverty" had an odd relationship with the new brand of monasticism. Cluniac abbeys and churches elevated the trappings of the liturgy and increased the use of gold altar vessels, fine Bible-themed artwork like tapestries and stained glass, and polyphonic choral music.

Another practice or movement supported by the Cluniacs was the "Peace and Truce of God," an attempt to limit violence that was part and parcel of politics in Western Europe. What it was and whether it worked I'll discuss tomorrow.

The First Benedictine Monastery

When St. Benedict decided to create a place where men could quietly contemplate God, removed from the cares of the world, he chose a 1700-foot above sea level cliff top in southeast Rome. From 530 until 547, he developed the Rule of St. Benedict to guide the daily lives of the monks.

There were difficulties in building, according to an account by Pope Gregory II. Satan made a rock too heavy to move by sitting on it until Benedict shooed him away, and collapsed a wall on a young monk whom Benedict had to bring back to life. It was common in hagiographies to relate how the subject overcame pagan or demonic opposition.

Benedict's time at Monte Cassino was not long. He died in 534 and was buried in the oratory of St. John on the site. The monastery itself was sacked by Lombards in 570, and abandoned.

A second monastery was established on the site in 718 by Petronax of Brescia. He was an Italian monk who made a pilgrimage to the tomb of Benedict and found a few hermits living at Monte Cassino. They asked him to lead them; donations from nobles like the Duke of Benevento allowed them to rebuild. St. Willibald and St. Sturm of Fulda were at Monte Cassino under Petronax. Once again, however, the monastery was a target, this time in 883 by Saracens. The monks of Monte Cassino re-located to Teano and then Capua until 949, when Monte Cassino was rebuilt.

Monte Cassino experienced a golden age in the 11th and 12th centuries. It acquired much land in the area, referred to as the Land of Saint Benedict (ultimately reaching 80,000 hectares) which afforded it much material wealth. The abbey had art from Byzantine and Islamic artisans and received patronage from Byzantine emperors. Three popes came from Monte Cassino during this period.

It started to close independence and authority in the 13th century. Emperor Frederick II garrisoned troops there in his war with the pope. An earthquake in 1349 collapsed most of the buildings. Pope Urban V demanded funds from all Benedictine monasteries toward rebuilding Monte Cassino in 1369.

In 1799, Monte Cassino was sacked by the French Revolutionary Army. In 1866 it was declared a national monument with the monks as custodians. In 1944, it was destroyed by American bombers on the mistaken belief that German troops were stationed there. It was rebuilt, currently housing about a dozen monks.

During the time that the monks were "in exile" at Teano and Capua, the original Rule of St. Benedict was influenced by the Cluniac Reforms, sometimes also called the Benedictine Reforms. What were they, and how did they change the lives of monks? We will explore that next time.

Battle Abbey

You would think that the name "Battle" for a religious house must be an abbreviation of some more appropriate term, and you would be wrong. It is named for one of the most pivotal moments in the history of England, the Battle of Hastings and the death of King Harold.

Once William the Conqueror won, he began a building campaign of massive churches whose size completely dwarfed the smaller Anglo-Saxon buildings they were meant to replace. This had the effect not only of impressing upon the natives how different everything would be, but was also likely a way to atone for the bloodshed he had caused. This second reason was important, since Pope Alexander II in 1070 ordered him to do penance for the deaths he caused.

To that end, he ordered the construction of an abbey whose high altar should stand on the exact spot where Harold's standard fell, marking victory for the Normans. The abbey was dedicated to St. Martin of Tours (4th century), who had been a soldier before becoming third bishop of Tours and one of the most popular French saints. Despite that dedication, however, the place was referred to as Battle (or "Battel") Abbey, and the town of Battle developed next to it.

We don't know when exactly it was started, but in 1070 William invited 60 Benedictines to establish a monastery. His intent was that it would eventually house 140 monks. Enough was built for it to be habitable by 1076; it was finished in 1094. by William's . He endowed it with many estates, so that it became one of the richest monasteries in England.

When Henry VIII dissolved the monasteries, Battle Abbey was given to one of the king's friends, who demolished most of it and turned the remainder into a large manor house. Little of the original remains, but visitors are welcome, historical reenactments take place on the grounds, and a plaque and stone stand where (we suppose) the high altar once stood.

There is a slightly different story about the founding of Battle Abbey that also establishes a closer link to St. Martin of Tours. I'll tell you about it tomorrow.

Hautvillers

Hautvillers is a commune in northeastern France. In 650 the Benedictine Abbey of St. Peter (in French it was the Abbaye Saint-Pierre d'Hautvillers) was established; it remained active until the French Revolution in 1789.

It was founded by St. Nivard, the Bishop of Reims, when a dove indicated where it was to be established. The abbey was devoted to the Rule of St. Benedict and of St. Columbanus, whose monastery practices in Ireland were in some cases even more strict than Benedict's.

The Abbey was known for its illuminated manuscripts. The very vibrantly illustrated Ebbo Gospels came from this Abbey. A well-known book of psalms known as the Utrecht Psalter (discovered in the Netherlands in the Utrecht University Library in 1858) is illustrated in a similar style to the Ebbo Gospels, and so might have come from here as well.

In 841, a priest from Reims stole from Rome the bodily relics of St. Helena, mother of the Emperor Constantine and finder of the True Cross. Pilgrimages to see the relics helped bring donations to the Abbey, allowing it to purchase more property. (After the French Revolution, the relics were transported to Paris; they went to the Knights of the Holy Sepulchre in 1819.)

One of the uses of more land was, of course, to provide the Abbey with its own food and drink. Vineyards were always a good idea. One of the monks at Hautviller disliked using white grapes, because of their tendency to enter "refermentation." Refermentation happened after the wine was bottled: in the warmer weather, remaining yeast would "wake up" and start producing carbon dioxide again. Enough and you have sparkling wine; too much and you have exploding bottles. This monk laid down some rules for the best wines and best sparkling wines, such as blends of grapes from multiple vineyards (before pressing, not after they were already wine). His name was Dom Perignon. He did not develop the brand now known as "Dom Perignon," but it was named for him. The myth that Perignon invented champagne was created by a later monk, Dom Groussard, who made up many stories about the Abbey to garner fame.

Next: whether it came from Hautvillers or not, the Utrecht Psalter is worth a look.

Thomas Aquinas

I suppose if we wanted to find a Christian parallel to Maimonides, Thomas Aquinas would be an obvious choice. Born into the aristocracy, noted for his learning and devoutness, his writing blending previous scholarship and building on it with impressive arguments backed up by Scripture and reason, his writings becoming foundational for what came after—no wonder he was nicknamed Doctor Angelicus ("The Angelic Doctor").

He was born in 1225 in the town of Aquino. His father was Count Landulph of Aquino, his mother Countess Theodora of Teano; he was related to the kings of Aragon, Castile, and France, as well as to Emperors Henry VI and Frederick II. A biography written a generation after he died claims that a holy hermit predicted to a pregnant Theodora that her child would become unequalled in learning and sanctity.

His education began at the typical age of five, with the Benedictines of Monte Cassino (his father's brother Sinibald was the abbot there from 1227-1236). Some time between 1236 and 1239 he was sent to a university at Naples where he would have first learned about Aristotle, Averroes, and Maimonides. Here he also came into contact with a Dominican preacher. The Dominicans had been founded 30 years earlier and were actively recruiting.

When he was 19 years old, Thomas announced that he wished to join the Dominicans, which displeased his "Benedictine-oriented" family. It displeased them so much that, while Thomas was traveling to Rome on his way to Paris to get away from the family's influence, his brothers (at his mother's request) kidnapped him. He was forced to stay in his parents' castle for almost a year, spending the time tutoring his sisters.

Attempts to dissuade him from the Dominicans became more desperate. His brothers sent a prostitute to seduce him. He fought her off with a burning log, then fell into a mystical trance and had a vision of two angels granting him perfect chastity. (They also gave him a "girdle of chastity" that now resides in Turin.) His mother, seeing that he would not change his mind, and not wanting to endure the embarrassment of allowing her son to join the Dominicans, she arranged for him to escape his home in 1244. He went to the University of Paris where he probably studied under Albertus Magnus. Because Thomas was quiet, his fellow students ridiculed him, but Albertus is supposed to have told them "You call him the dumb ox, but in his teaching he will one day produce such a bellowing that it will be heard throughout the world."

In 1256 he was appointed regent master in theology at Paris and began writing the first of his many theological works, Contra impugnantes Dei cultum et religionem ("Against Those Who Assail the Worship of God and Religion"), defending the mendicant orders.

His reputation as a theologian and teacher/preacher grew so much that he was granted the Archbishopric of Naples in 1265 by Pope Clement IV, but he turned it down. In the yard that followed he would have the time to write one of his greatest works, the Summa Theologica.

And this is where we come back to the comparison with Maimonides: despite the groundbreaking nature of his writing, which became foundational for much of what followed, he was not without his detractors. Some of his conclusions clashed with accepted thought from previous religious writers. To be able to discuss that, we should look at two other philosophers: Aristotle and Averroes. Stay tuned.

British vs. Irish Christianity

The previous post discussed some aspects of Celtic Christianity found in the British Isles that differed from the "mainstream" Rome-based Christianity. There were "local" differences between practices in Ireland and England as well.

Monasteries in Ireland adhered to a much stricter rule than the typical Rule of St. Benedict. Fasting and corporal punishment were more common in Ireland than British monasteries or elsewhere. By the 9th century, most monasteries were conforming to the Benedictine style.

Baptism was also different in Ireland, although we do not have a clear description of it. Bede claims that Augustine of Canterbury found the Irish baptismal rite to be "incomplete" compared to the Roman custom, although what was left out is not explained.

One of the biggest differences was the practice of "Judaizing": observing Jewish rites instead of the newly developing Christian versions. One of the biggest examples was, of course, the observance of Easter on a date more closely conforming to the Jewish Passover. This was one of the main points of contention at the Synod of Whitby. Adhering more closely to laws found in the Old Testament could be a problem. In the mid-8th century, an Irish preacher named Clement Scotus was condemned for heresy, partially because he promoted Old Testament laws such as requiring a man to marry the widow of his brother. Paul's Letter to the Romans in the New Testament made clear that Christians were absolved from following the old law through Christ's sacrifice. Rejecting the Old Testament's list of injunctions and rules was therefore an important part of distinguishing Christianity from Judaism.

Much of what was different about Irish Christianity was inspired by the preaching of Columbanus, and we should talk about him next.

Patron Saint of Hunting

...and of mathematicians, and opticians, and metalworkers, and more.

Saint Hubertus' conversion from materialism to piety was first discussed here. After he died, on 30 May 727, his bones moved around a bit. He was buried in the church of St. Peter in Liège, but his bones were exhumed so they could be interred in a Benedictine abbey (now named St. Hubert's Abbey) in the Ardennes region. The Ardennes was important to him—his nickname was the Apostle of the Ardennes—because he originally loved to hunt game there. After his conversion he "hunted" folk in the region to be convert them to Christianity. He would not destroy their "idolatrous" sites, but give the converted the opportunity to destroy the sites themselves as proof of their new love for Christianity.

His coffin became a focal point for pilgrimages, until it disappeared during the Reformation. Just as his physical remains were disappearing from view, however, his spiritual reputation was building. Because he was of royal birth, he was considered one of the Four Holy Marshals in the Rhineland. (That's for another day.) Several military orders were founded in his name. In the Church of England, at least two churches were dedicated to him. There is a St. Hubertus brand of alcohol, and the image of the stag with the cross between his antlers is their logo.

Although he is most commonly referred to as the patron saint of hunters, he is also given patronage for an amazing and varied number of other areas. Here is the full list:

against dog bite	furriers	opticians
against hydrophobia	hunters, huntsmen, & hunting	precision instrument makers
against mad dogs	forest workers	metal workers, smelters
against rabies	trappers	Liege, Belgium
archers	machinists	Saint-Hubert, Belgium
dogs	mathematicians

I cannot find an explanation for the link to optics, but I can tell you a story about him that involves metal and connects to some of his prominent patronage areas. I'll get to that next.

The Pirate Monk

There were many reasons why someone would become a pirate, I suppose. It was probably rare that a monk would do so, however.

Eustace Busket was more than a monk and a pirate. Born about 1170 near Boulogne, he was a younger son of minor nobility who, not being likely to inherit much in the way of lands or titles, went to Toledo in Spain to study, where supposedly he took up "black magic" and produced marvels. For some reason, he gave up that life, returning home to join a Benedictine monastery at St. Samer near Calais.

At some point he left the monastery and became the seneschal and bailiff for Count Renaud de Dammartin. Eustace was accused of mismanaging his duties, and about 1204 he fled his responsibilities and the accusations. He was declared an outlaw, and became a pirate, sailing the English Channel looking for plunder.

He was a well-known figure, and King John paid him occasionally between 1205 and 1212 to harass Philip II of France. He would sometimes raid the English Coast for fun and profit and be declared an outlaw again, but King John always forgave him eventually to continue the harassment of Philip. John also gave him 30 ships to use in his missions.

In 1212, Eustace switched to supporting France, and when English Civil war broke out in 1215 (ultimately leading to Magna Carta), he supported the English barons against King John. Eustace carried Prince Louis of France to England to join the Barons, and on a 1217 mission to bring Louis aid, he got caught up in the Battle of Dover. Eustace managed to escape, but his enemies caught up with him, and on 24 August 2017, at the Battle of Sandwich, he was caught. We do not know exactly how he was executed, but Mathew Paris portrays him as being beheaded (depicted above).

The Gentle Prison

We saw here how Charlemagne captured his ex-father-in-law, King Desiderius of the Lombards, and imprisoned him in the Benedictine Abbey of Corbie. Sticking your political enemies away in a monastery was an efficient and humane way to eliminate them from the scene. Monasteries were often remote; the monastic life was carefully regulated, and so someone trying to leave would be discovered quickly; it was not as harsh as a dungeon; your enemies were given plenty of time to contemplate their sin of being your enemy.

In the turmoil that followed the dividing up of the kingdom by Charlemagne's son, Louis the Pious, Louis' grandson Charles failed in his attempt to gain some power and was imprisoned at Corbie. He escaped, however, and was made Archbishop of Mainz by Louis the German, showing that imprisonment in a monastery did not mean you were a convict with complete loss of rights or privileges in the eyes of the world.

Corbie, in Picardy, was particularly favored by Charlemagne because his family had close ties to it. Shortly after Desiderius was sent there, Charlemagne's cousin Saint Adalard became its abbot. Corbie was a desirable position, because it was granted freedom from the jurisdiction of local bishops.

One of Corbie's most prominent features—not surprising given its Carolingian patronage, was an extensive library. This library not only had numerous writings by the early Church Fathers, but also many classical texts and non-religious texts. The geometry of Euclid, as transmitted to the Middle Ages by the works of Boethius, was of great interest to scholars at Corbie. A 9th century monk at Corbie, Headboard, wrote extracts from Cicero, microbus, and Martianus Capella.

Carolingian minuscule

This love of scholarship extended for centuries: a 17th century monk of Corbie, Jean Mabillon, is considered the father of paleography, no doubt after studying the centuries of developing styles of scripts. The distinctive script called Carolingian minuscule was developed at Corbie about the time that Saint Adalard was abbot.

This remarkable center of learning did not survive until modern times, alas. In the 17th century, 400 manuscripts were sent to a monastery in Paris and later sold to a Russian diplomat. During the French Revolution the remaining 300 manuscripts at Corbie were sent to Amiens. About 200 manuscripts from Corbie are known to exist today. The monastery itself was damaged extensively during World War I, but has been rebuilt.

The Y1K Problem

One example of the "white mantle of churches"

So...the Venerable Bede suggests that time be reckoned since the year of Christ's birth. People start numbering years. They start to notice a disturbing trend: they are approaching a big even number: 1000. Ralph Glaber lived through this traumatic transition, and left us an account.

Born in 985 in Burgundy, at the age of 12 his monk uncle found him a place in the monastery of Saint-Léger-de-Champeaux for education and discipline, but he was expelled for bad conduct. He later joined the Benedictines at Cluny, becoming a monk of his own accord. He later lived at two other monasteries. He died in 1050. His life's work was a five-volume chronicle called Historiarum libri quinque ab anno incarnationis DCCCC usque ad annum MXLIV ["History in five books from 900 to 1044"]. His Latin was far from elegant, his grasp of historical facts was far from accurate, and yet the history he wrote provides us with insight to the mood of the time.

And that mood was dark and dire. Glaber saw corruption everywhere:

Warned by the prophecy of Holy Writ, we see clearer than daylight that in the process of the Last Days, as love waxed cold and iniquity abounded among mankind, perilous times were at hand for men's souls. For by many assertions of the ancient fathers we are warned that, as covetousness stalks abroad, the religious Rules or Orders of the past have caught decay and corruption from that which should have raised them to growth and progress.. . From this [covetousness] also proceed the constant tumult of quarrels at law, and frequent scandals arise, and the even tenor of the different Orders is rent by their transgressions. Thus also it comes to pass that, while irreligiousness stalks abroad among the clergy, froward* and incontinent appetites grow among the people, until lies and deceit and fraud and manslaughters, creeping abroad among them, draw almost all to perdition!

After the millennium was survived, however, he lets us know that the world changed for the better:

It was as if the whole world were shaking itself free, shrugging off the burden of the past, and cladding itself everywhere in a white mantle of churches.

The phrase "white mantle of churches" has entered the lexicon of medieval imagery, and is remembered and used in print more than Glaber's darker imagery of the corruption leading up to the year 1000.

*FYI: "froward" is not a typo; it means "to lead away/astray"

When Being Pope is Not a Step Up

You would think that being named pope is the highest achievement for a man in that particular field, and that it comes with the power to accomplish many great and far-reaching things. And you would be right, for the most part. Consider, however, a man who was already considered great before he ascended to the Throne of Peter, and for whom the papacy took him away from the opportunities to do good.

Dauferius, the younger son of Prince Landulf V of Benevento, was born c.1026. At his father's death in 1047, Dauferius ran away from home to escape an arranged marriage, was dragged back, and ran off again. He ran to the monastery of San Sophia and started calling himself Desiderius. He changed monasteries a few times, seeking a more austere life each time. His reputation for discipline and piety brought him to the attention of Pope Leo IX. It is thought that the pope asked Desiderius to negotiate peace between the Normans and a combined Italian-Lombard-Swabian army. Since the Normans defeated the army that included Desiderius' own countrymen, he would have been glad to help.

Desiderius became a member of the court of Pope Victor II, who influenced him greatly. More than that, however: at Victor's court Desiderius met two monk of Monte Cassino, and followed them there in 1055, where he was steeped in the details of Benedictine rule. Two years later, during a visit from the previous abbot of Monte Cassino, now Pope Stephen IX (though he had never relinquished the title of abbot), the monks were told to elect a new about to replace the pope. The monks picked Desiderius.

As abbot his real work began. He rebuilt Monte Cassino and beefed up the scriptorium, his reputation bringing more monks (there were 200 in his day) and gifts to the monastery. He had been appointed by the pope to reform whatever monasteries he thought needed it, and to appoint bishops from Benedictines if he felt it necessary. His reputation as a wise man and negotiator meant that even factions that were at war with the pope were cordial to Monte Cassino. For almost 30 years he worked to improve his world.

When Pope Gregory VII lay dying, he named Desiderius as one of his possible successors (even though they did not see eye-to-eye on the subject of reforms). When Desiderius learned that a lot of people wanted to see him become pope, he went back to Monte Cassino and tried to avoid the privilege. Pressure was great, however, and he acquiesced, being named Pope Victor III on 24 May 1086. Unfortunately, the antipope Clement III in Rome prevented him from being consecrated and actually moving into the Vatican until 9 May 1087. Much of his time as pope was spent replacing Clement and undoing some of the damage from his papacy.

And then he died, on 16 September; total time actually in office: 130 days.

He should have just stayed in Monte Cassino.

The Pirate Monk

The defeat of Eustace the Black at the Battle of Sandwich,
from Matthew Paris

Eustace Busket was born about 1170 near Boulogne on the northwestern coast of France, in a high-ranking family. A younger son with few prospects of inheriting, he went to Toledo in Spain where he studied magical least, that was his reputation, and it served him well in his later career.

After Spain he went home and became a Benedictine monk. By 1202, he had become seneschal and bailiff for Count Renaud de Dammartin of Boulogne. In 1204, accused of improper conduct, Eustace fled Boulogne and became an outlaw.

He turned to piracy, and terrorized the English Channel for his won gain and sometimes in the employ of others. He was hired by King John of England to command 30 ships in order to harass Philip II of France. John had to outlaw Eustace when Eustace started raiding English villages, but soon pardoned him because he needed his help.

His biography* tells us that Count Renaud allied himself with John against Philip and poisoned John's mind against Eustace, who then offered his service to Philip in 1212. John was having plenty of trouble in his own country, and when the barons rose up against John, Eustace supported them, even bringing Philip across the Channel to join them in their revolt.

Eustace took part in many sea battles, his final one being the Battle of Sandwich on 24 August 1217, when the ships of Philip d'Aubigny's English fleet surrounded and captured him. He tried to buy his way out of danger, but they were having none of it. Matthew Paris tells of his beheading at sea (pictured above).

*You can check it out here.

Evesham Abbey

The early history of the founding of religious buildings goes hand-in-hand with visions and miracles, such as the August snowfall in Rome. The history of Benedictine structures is no exception.

Evesham Abbey was founded when Bishop (later saint) Ecgwine received a visit from a shepherd or swineherd named Eof. Eof told him of a vision he had of the Virgin Mary requesting that a monastery be built in her honor on a certain spot where he grazed his animals. ("Evesham" means "Eof's town.") Bishop Ecgwine built the monastery; we don't know when construction started, but we do have the charter of Pope Constantine granting privileges to the abbey in 709, firmly establishing its founding as an abbey.

Ecgwine was all too happy to resign his bishopric and become abbot until his death in 717.

Of Evesham Abbey only a bell tower remains since the Dissolution of the Monasteries under Henry VIII. Evesham had trouble when the Danish invasions led to the monks being replaced. Within a generation, fortunately, St. Dunstan (previously mentioned in association with abbeys here) re-established the Benedictines there.

Later, when William the Conqueror took over the country, then-Abbot Æthelwig wisely hastened to pledge loyalty to him. Evesham and its Benedictines flourished under Norman rule, so much so that it supposedly earned the envy of the bishops of Worcester.

Saint Benedict

Benedict holding his Rule;
you can see the raven that
saved him from poisoned bread.

In the discussion of time I mentioned Benedict of Nursia, who created a rule for monks to follow. This blog has also mentioned Benedictines frequently. Let us look a little more closely at the man who founded the Benedictines.

Much of our (dubious) information on his early life comes from Pope Gregory I's book Dialogues. If we are to believe Gregory, Benedict was born about 480 in Nursia in Umbria and was sent to Rome at an early age to be educated, where the licentiousness of that city made him flee to a deserted area 40 miles from Rome. There, in Sublacum (Italian Subiaco), he met a monk, Romanus. Romanus gave him a habit, led him to a deep grotto, and introduced him to the life of a hermit.

Benedict lived as a hermit for three years, leaving it when the residents of a local monastery came to him and begged him to take the position of their deceased abbot. This was not a good idea. The monks and Benedict had such divergent opinions on how to conduct their lives that they ultimately decided to kill their new abbot. His prayers before meals foiled their attempts to poison him; in one instance, a raven carried away poisoned bread before Benedict could eat it. He eventually returned to his solitary life in Subiaco, founding 12 monasteries in that area.

In order to ensure harmony among monks and consistency among those observing the religious life, he devised what we call the Rule of St. Benedict. The Rule consists of 73 short chapters covering how to run a monastery, how monks should conduct themselves, and how to maintain discipline. Among other things, the Rule expects that all brothers are called to participate in discussions of subjects that affect the whole community, expects monks to be sparing of speech (although it doesn't expect complete silence), wants monks to sleep in their habits so that they can rise ready to do the day's work, and expects that all monks take turns in the kitchen.

He died 21 March 543.

Building Westminster Abbey - Part 1

Panel from Bayeaux Tapestry; Edward's body carried to Westminster.

The Collegiate Church of St. Peter at Westminster was begun on a site near the Thames where a vision of St. Peter was seen by (appropriately) a fisherman. The fisherman, named Aldrich in the anecdote, may be fictional, but the abbey was fact: we know that a church was there by the early 970s when King Edgar supported St. Dunstan in establishing a community of Benedictine monks. (Edgar was obviously very interested in supporting abbeys: see his other mention here.) The Aldrich story would explain the practice of the Abbey receiving an annual tribute of salmon from Thames fishermen—a tradition that is carried on to this day, with a single salmon being presented to the Abbey annually.*

The Abbey's real prominence came during the reign of Edward the Confessor (1042-1066), who decided it would be suitable for his burial place, but only after some serious upgrading. Edward's building campaign—the first in the Norman Romanesque style to be built in England—resulted in a larger structure whose details are now lost to us, except in the stylized image we find on the Bayeaux Tapestry. Edward died 5 January, 1066 with the Abbey decades away from completion (in 1090), but he made sure it was consecrated while he was still alive, so that he could be buried there right after his death. (The Tapestry even seems to show—in the upper left of the picture above—the work still progressing even while the funeral procession approaches.) The Abbey was used for the coronation of William the Conqueror in late 1066, after that whole Invasion mess. Very little of this era's structure survives now.

Westminster Abbey, as we know it today, was reconstructed during the reign of Henry III. We have more records of materials and workmen surviving from that era, which I will share with you next time.


*At least, some sources report this; however, it is not found anywhere on the Company's website. I'm dubious.

Romsey Abbey: Its Ups & Downs

Romsey Abbey was, for a brief time, the home of Matilda of Scotland and her sister Mary. It is called "Romsey" because it was originally known as "Rum's Eg"—that is, the "area of Rum surrounded by marshes." It was founded by a granddaughter of Alfred the Great, Elflæda, in 907.

It went through some different stages, being refounded in 960 by King Edgar (943-975) as a Benedictine house under the control of the very pious (St.) Ethelflæda. The community thrived until it was sacked by Vikings in 993 and destroyed by fire. Rebuilt about 1000, it became a place to send the children of aristocrats for education (hence Matilda's time there).

A much larger building was erected in the original foundations around 1130 by Bishop Henry of Blois. That building still stands today. Between then and now, however, the Black Death wiped out all but 19 nuns of the religious community. The abbey never regained prominence, finally being suppressed (like so many others) in 1539 by Henry VIII (whose radical changes to the religious house of England was also mentioned here). The nuns were dispersed.

Even though the religious community was dissolved, however, the Abbey retained prominence in the town. Its church was being used as a parish church (St. Lawrence) by the larger community—an extra aisle had been added to the main structure so that townspeople had a place to attend services—and so Romsey did not suffer like many others: being left to fall into ruins or having its stone re-used in other building projects. Oddly, however, a few years later the townspeople purchased the building from the Crown and dismantled the extra aisle used as St. Lawrence, leaving the original Abbey church in which to worship.

In 1643, the English Civil War resulted in internal damage when soldiers tore up the seats and destroyed the organ. Many windows were damaged over the years and not replaced. The 19th century saw an attempt to restore the neglected structure, and now it has a thriving parish community.