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.

The Politics of Saints

After Edith of Wilton died (c.984), her canonization was a slow process, taking 13 years (slow for the time; canonization these days in the Roman Catholic Church has more stringent requirements). One of the issues may have been that, although she chose to remain in Wilton Abbey her whole life, and at the age of two chose religious objects over fine clothing and jewelry, her life was not the same as a humble servant of God.

She wore clothing befitting a princess, had a special metal container for heating bath water, and a collection of exotic animals provided by her father, King Edgar, and others. She also kept contact with her father that enabled her to use his influence in various ways. Goscelin of Canterbury wrote that her influence with her father was so profound that people from other countries and Rome would visit her, bringing her gifts for her growing zoo and asking for help with the king.

Christianity and politics were deeply entwined: kings were believed to rule by divine right, and Christian counsel was sought by rulers. Having a saint in the family was a good sign, so it makes sense that, 13 years after her death, her half-brother Æthelred pushed her canonization with the support of St. Dunstan.

Even King Cnut, who conquered half of England from Æthelred's son, Edmund II, supported her sainthood, perhaps as a way to ingratiate himself to the Wessex royalty, although marrying Æthelred's widow might have been sufficient. Cnut claimed that Edith appeared and saved him from a storm at sea.

Edith's "miracles" were mostly not of helping people with curing illness, but of appearances in visions, and often, shall we say, self-serving. Prior to canonization, she appeared to people urging them to support her elevation to sainthood. Afterward, when a Wilton nun tried to take one of her relics, a headband, Edith's head appeared to warn her off.

Of course, all of this comes from Goscelin of Canterbury, writing several decades after her death. We should take a closer look at him, next time.

Saint Edith

Imagine being a toddler, being raised by your mother in a convent, and then discovering that you are a royal princess. I cannot imagine how that must have affected Edith of Wilton (c.961 - c.984) growing up.

Her mother was Wulfthryth, who was taken from the nunnery at Wilton Abbey by King Edgar the Peaceable, who initially wanted Wulfthryth's sister, Wulfhild. After bearing him a daughter, Wulfthryth decided to return to the nunnery, taking her daughter and leaving Edgar to find another wife (which he did in Ælfthryth).

There is a later story that, when Edith was two, her father came to Wilton and laid before her royal clothing and jewelry, while her mother presented her with religious objects. Edith supposedly reached for the religious objects, displaying her devotion to religion. This story is likely apocryphal, but Edith did, in fact, devote her life to religion. It is also said that, when she was 15, Edgar offered to make her an abbess and gave her a choice of three convents, but she chose to remain at Wilton for the rest of her life.

A saint's life written a century later by Goscelin of Canterbury suggests that Edgar was a supporter of his daughter, his former wife, and the Abbey. Goscelin describes her as wearing very grand clothing at the Abbey, annoying the other residents. Her choice of these royal garments was tested when a candle fell on the chest containing them; the chest burned, but the clothing inside was unharmed.

Edith may have remained a secular member of Wilton and not become a nun. She seems to have lived a grand life. Edgar sent her two foreign tutors, gave her clothing, financed the re-building of the convent with a chapel designed by Edith, and Edith occasionally visited her father's court. Edith also had a private zoo of exotic animals at the convent.

In 984, she built a chapel dedicated to the 3rd-century Saint Denis. The dedication ceremony was performed by St. Dunstan, who predicted that Edith would die in three weeks. She did. At the moment of her death, a nun at Wilton saw ranks of angels singing in the abbey church.

After her death, there were only a few miracles attributed to her, so the progress to canonize her was slow, but she was eventually named a saint by her brother King Æthelred II 13 years after her death.

Of course the stories, especially written long after her death and relying on legends told by the abbey, cannot be taken at face value. There was a great deal of politics to be found in acknowledging certain saints. Tomorrow I want to talk about Edith's sainthood and what it meant to the king.