Dealing with Lice

There are plenty of examples of combs from centuries gone, and sometimes they are two-sided, with one side having the teeth extremely close together. These were "nit combs," designed to be run through hair and pull out the "nits" and eggs that were part of the life cycle of the louse.

I should say "of lice," since if your hair was home to one, it was home to many. Also, there are over 5000 species of louse, 800 of which prey on mammals. Humans experience just a few. (The others? 4000 species prey on birds; even penguins in the Antarctic have at least 15 species.)

The scientific details on lice don't interest us, however, as much as how the Middle Ages dealt with them, because they were ubiquitous. After Thomas Becket's death, when they went to prepare the body, they discovered he wore a hair shirt under his clothing. It was so infested with lice that “The vermin boiled over like water in a simmering cauldron, and the onlookers burst into alternate weeping and laughing” [Rats, Lice and History, Hans Zinsser Page 185].

Combing the hair was a common way to get rid of lice. It was also considered a contemplative act, and recommended to put oneself into the right mood for devotion. The 13th century French liturgist William Durand in his Rationale divinorum officiorum ("Rationale for the Divine Offices"), said combing "symbolized the removal of worldly or superfluous thoughts." When the tomb of St. Cuthbert was opened in 1104, it contained a comb; was it more for contemplation or hygiene?

Lice had to be dealt with in every walk of life, including among the religious set. The late 14th century canon regular (a priest in a church, not a monk) John Mirk in his Instructions for Parish Priests said that if a louse or lice entered the chalice, they needed to be consumed with the wine (unless it was a poisonous insect).

Besides the comb, there was other methods for dealing with head lice. A concoction of pork grease, incense, lead, and aloe was supposed to stop them (probably by asphyxiation). The simplest method, available to everyone, was having someone look through your hair and remove them by hand. Montaillou by French historian Emmanuel Le Roy Ladurie reconstructs (from contemporary records) the lives of villagers from 1294 to 1324. One recollection that he finds is of a woman named Vuissane Testanière, who observed her neighbors chatting while their daughters picked through their hair, looking for lice.

In fact, the story of the village of Montaillou would be a refreshing change from talking about lice, so let's use that last paragraph as a transition to tomorrow. See you then.

The Holy Island

When King Oswald of Northumbria invited St. Aidan to come from Iona in 634-5 CE and start a monastery, Aidan chose an island off the northeast coast of England. As a tidal island—meaning it was only accessible during low tide by a narrow causeway—Aidan considered it safer for the monks.

The Anglo-Saxon Chronicle entry for the year 793 refers to the island as Lindisfarena, although around the same time Nennius' Historia Brittonum ("History of the Britons") calls it by a Welsh name, Medcaut, thought by later scholars to derive from Latin Medicata (Healing), due to medicinal herbs that grew there.

It became known as the Holy Island (Latin Insula sacra) in the 11th century because of Saints Aidan and Cuthbert. It was instrumental in the Christianization of Northumbria, and also sent a mission down to Mercia. Cuthbert was enormously popular and influential. An anonymous life of Cuthbert written between 685 and 704 is the oldest piece of English historical writing in existence.

The entry for the year 793 mentioned above is about the Viking raid on Lindisfarne. The entry reads:

In this year fierce, foreboding omens came over the land of the Northumbrians, and the wretched people shook; there were excessive whirlwinds, lightning, and fiery dragons were seen flying in the sky. These signs were followed by great famine, and a little after those, that same year on 6th ides of January, the ravaging of wretched heathen men destroyed God's church at Lindisfarne.

(January was not an ideal time for sea-born Viking raids; it is assumed that there was a "typo" and that 8 June was the date of the devastation.)

Alcuin later describes the destruction:

Never before has such terror appeared in Britain as we have now suffered from a pagan race ... The heathens poured out the blood of saints around the altar, and trampled on the bodies of saints in the temple of God, like dung in the streets.

Cuthbert's body and other relics were removed by the monks to save them from destruction.

With the arrival of the Normans after 1066, a Benedictine monastery was established by the first Norman bishop of Durham, William of St. Calais.

Back to the early years, however: something that came out of Lindisfarne in its pre-Viking heyday was the Lindisfarne Gospels, which I want to talk about next.

Cuthbert's Travels

Saints' relics are significant for a couple reasons. They provide a reminder of a saintly life and inspire others to emulate saints. They also attract pilgrims who make donations. Keeping and maintaining relics and saints' bodies is important, and sometimes that meant moving them around.

Cuthbert (c.635 - 687) was a very important saint in Northumbria, but his reputation was enhanced and expanded when Alfred the Great had a vision of Cuthbert that inspired him in his battles against the Danes. Alfred's house of Wessex became particularly devoted to the northern saint, making Cuthbert a saint for all of England. Preserving his remains was a necessity.

Initially buried at Lindisfarne, Danish invasions caused the monks to flee the island in 875, taking Cuthbert's bones along. Bede wrote that Cuthbert was put in a stone sarcophagus, but fortunately for the people in charge of moving him that was abandoned for a wooden coffin. After seven years of relocating to different sites, including Melrose, he was taken to Chester-le-Street, a market town in County Durham, where the body was interred and remained for 112 years at the parish church of St. Mary and St. Cuthbert.

In 995, the coffin was moved to Ripon, again because of the Danes. Upon its return to Chester-le-Street, the wagon carrying the coffin became stuck on the road at Durham. This was seen as a sign that the saint wished his remains to be in Durham, and he was taken to Durham Cathedral.

When William the Conqueror began the Harrying of the North to put down northern rebels, Bishop Ælfwine in 1069 tried to take Cuthbert's body back to Lindisfarne, but he was caught (and imprisoned, where he died).

In 1104, the coffin was opened and his relics taken to a new shrine built for him in Durham Cathedral. At this time a book was found, a Gospel of John called the Cuthbert Gospel; it is the oldest surviving book with its original binding.

During the Dissolution of the Monasteries by Henry VIII, Cuthbert's shrine was destroyed, but the relics survived interred at the site. A dig at the site in 1827 uncovered the relics and the remains of a wooden coffin (illustrated above), reconstructed from what pieces were salvageable.

All things considered, I am sure Cuthbert would have preferred to remain at Lindisfarne. What made the "Holy Island" so special is worth a closer look...next time.

St. Cuthbert

After the conversion to Christianity of King Edwin of Northumbria in 627 CE, his people followed suit. About 634, Cuthbert was born to a well-to-do family. His life as a Christian would have experienced the conflicts between Roman Christianity and Celtic Christianity. Whereas Edwin was baptized by Paulinus of York, part of the Gregorian mission from Rome, Edwin's successor, Oswald, invited Irish monks from Iona. The Irish monks, whose leader was Aidan, founded the monastery at Lindisfarne. Cuthbert grew up near Melrose Abbey, a daughter house of Lindisfarne.

The night of Aidan's death (651), Cuthbert had a vision that inspired him to become a monk. He advanced quickly, starting at a new monastery at Ripon, then becoming prior at Melrose Abbey in 662, followed in 665 by becoming prior at Lindisfarne. He was made a bishop in 684, but when nearing the end of his life he resigned that position.

Despite his exposure to Celtic Christianity for much of his youth, after the Synod of Whitby he had no trouble following the Roman system, bringing it to Lindisfarne when he was prior.

His reputation for piety and asceticism drew much attention, and he had many visitors despite his preference for a quiet life. He performed missionary work all over northern Britain. He was known for generosity to the poor and for performing miracles of healing, earning him the title "Wonder Worker of Britain." Bede wrote that he was buried in a stone sarcophagus to the right of the altar at the church in Lindisfarne; when the sarcophagus was moved behind the altar 11 years later (a more prestigious position), it was opened; his body was  found perfectly preserved, "uncorrupted," a sign of his sainthood. This brought more pilgrims to Lindisfarne, and prompted many in need to pray for his intercession.

Lindisfarne, however, was not going to be Cuthbert's final resting place. He was going to be moved a few times due to Viking invasions, which I'll talk about next time. 

The Oldest Book

The "oldest book" is a flexible term. It depends on what you mean by "book." In this case, I am referring to the oldest book we have that was assembled with what we think of as modern bookbinding: that is, flat pages (not a scroll) bound along one edge and with a solid cover for the front and back. This would be the so-called "Cuthbert Gospel."

It is a "pocket-sized" Gospel of John from the 8th century, only 5.4' x 3.6" with 94 vellum folios (pages) and a leather binding/cover over wooden boards (pictured here). It was kept with other relics of St. Cuthbert at Durham Cathedral. When King Henry VIII dissolved the monasteries after 1536, it traveled probably through many hands until it finally landed at Stonyhurst College in Lancashire. It was on long-term loan to the British Library due to its value as an early example of book binding and its association with the Anglo-Saxon saint, Cuthbert of Lindisfarne. Eventually the British Library purchased it, so it is now part of their permanent collection. It is intended to be displayed alternately between the British Library and at Durham.

The reason we have such a well-preserved book is because it was not known to exist for several centuries. Cuthbert died in 687 CE; his coffin was moved more than once to protect it from Viking invasions. In 1104, the coffin was moved to Durham Cathedral for re-burying, and was opened for a glimpse of the venerable saint. That was when, four centuries after the death of Cuthbert, the gospel was found inside the coffin!

Initially thought to be Cuthbert's personal Gospel, it is now thought that it was placed in the coffin to be with him a few years after he died. Based on the form of writing, it is presumed to have been written between c.700 and c.730 and slipped into his coffin at a later date.

Who was Cuthbert? Why was he so important that someone wanted to give him a "gift" of a Gospel even after he died? And important enough that his coffin was moved several times to keep it safe? We'll take a look at him and his accomplishments next time.

The Chronicle of Melrose

Melrose Abbey, on the Scottish border, mentioned in connection with St. Cuthbert, is historically significant for other reasons. Many Scottish kings are buried there, and a stone coffin found in 1812 under an aisle in the south of the abbey was speculated to be that of the "wizard" Michael Scot. And although Robert Bruce was said to have been buried in Dunfermline Abbey, his embalmed heart was supposedly buried on the grounds of Melrose, encased in lead.

The Abbey had a checkered history. Long after Cuthbert's time, it was damaged in 839. King David I of Scotland (1084-1153) wanted it rebuilt, but the Cistercians who would populate it picked a different site with more fertile land for farming. It was rebuilt and its church dedicated in 1146. In 1322, much of the Abbey was destroyed by Edward II of England (1284-1327). It was rebuilt by Robert the Bruce. In 1385 it was burned by the forces of Richard II of England (although he did grant them some money in 1389 in compensation). Rebuilding began again, but stalled. At the beginning of the 16th century, it still wasn't complete. That was probably just as well, since in 1544 the Abbey was again damaged by English forces attempting to force the marriage between Mary Queen of Scots and the son of Henry VIII. And of course, Oliver Cromwell felt the need to bombard it with cannon fire in the 1640s, even though it hadn't held a monk since 1590.

As well as majestic ruins and burial legends (and the ghostly monks said to walk the grounds), Melrose left us something else. Not directly though: it was found in the Cotton Library as Faustina B.x, and investigation traced its origin to Melrose.

Page for 1246, 1247, 1248

The Chronicle of Melrose has two sections. The first, covering from 735 until 1140 (the new founding), is a summary of the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle and other works, including that of Roger of Hoveden. It adds nothing new to our knowledge. The second section, from 1140 until 1270, is unique. The handwriting changes over time, suggesting that it was added to contemporaneously by eyewitnesses, rather than compiled all at once like the first section.

As a singular Scottish viewpoint on events, it is invaluable. A 1263 battle between Norway and Scotland is part of a saga written by Icelandic historian Sturla Thordarson (1218-1284). The Chronicle of Melrose offers a second viewpoint from the Scottish side, confirming the fact of the conflict—if not precisely the same details. A series of mis-steps caused the Norwegian forces to cede valuable ground and, in deteriorating weather, they retreated. The monks' Chronicle puts it a little differently:

A.D.1263.  ... it was not man's power which drove him away, but the power of God which crushed his ships, and sent a pestilence among his troops. Such of them as mustered to engage on the third day after the feast of Michaelmas, God defeated and slew by means of the foot-men of the country. Thus they were compelled to carry off their wounded and slain to their ships, and to return home in more disgraceful plight than they had left it.

The Chronicle also gives us a list of deaths and promotions of abbots and lords and high-ranking laymen, radical weather and the appearance of comets, the ups and downs of political figures in Scotland and the northern English shires, and the earliest list extant of Scottish kings. It's another valuable tool in piecing together the complex history of the Middle Ages.

You CAN take it with you

12th c. image of St. Cuthbert

St. Cuthbert (c.634-687), briefly mentioned here, never stayed in one place for very long—not even after he died. He grew up near Melrose Abbey, became a monk and was made master of guests in a monastery at Ripon, then returned to Melrose when the monastery was given to someone else.* After a few years he was made prior at Lindisfarne. Before his death he resigned and retired to one of the Farne Islands off the northeast coast of Northumbria. Urged to become Bishop of Lindisfarne, he left the Islands for a few years, but returned when he felt his death was approaching. His body was brought back to the mainland so that he could be interred at Lindisfarne Priory.

In 875, with the threat of Danish Invasion, the monks fled Lindisfarne, taking Cuthbert's remains. The monks and Cuthbert's body wandered for seven years looking for a home. In 883 they were offered a place called Chester-le-Street near Durham, where Cuthbert was re-interred.

In the late 900s, the threat of Danish invasion caused monks to remove the Saint's bones again, carrying them to Ripon over 300 years after he had lived there—but only for a few months. The monks brought the bones back toward Chester-le-Street, but stopped in Durham after having dreams that the saint wished to be interred there. A stone church was built to house the relics. Then came William the Conqueror, campaigning to make sure the north of England feared him, so in 1069 the monks fled with the bones back to Lindisfarne, but shortly after returned to Durham.

William's habit of building massive churches to impress the locals (and perhaps to appease God for William's sins) meant that, by 1104, the bones of Cuthbert could return to Durham to a cathedral that had been built on the site of his original stone church. We are told that it was decided at this time to open the casket they had carted around for so many generations; they discovered two remarkable things. One was that Cuthbert's body had remained uncorrupted (a sign of sanctity). The second thing was a book, now called The Stonyhurst Gospel or St. Cuthbert's Gospel.

It's a tiny bound book, only 5.4x3.6 inches, and was probably not Cuthbert's personal Gospel. It is likely that it was made after his death, and placed with him out of piety at some point during his post-death wandering. It, like Cuthbert, wandered for hundreds of years after its finding, ultimately passing among collectors until it came to the Jesuit Stonyhurst College. The British Library has called it "the earliest surviving intact European book," and purchased it in April 2012 for £9,000,000. They plan to display it alternately in London and Durham.

*That someone was later St. Wilfrid; among other things, Wilfrid became celebrated for his speech at the Synod of Whitby on why Easter should be calculated using the Roman method, not the Irish method. Cuthbert was raised in the Irish tradition, but accepted the Roman method when it became the rule.

Lindisfarne

In 635 CE, St. Aidan (c.?-651) was sent from the monastery on the island of Iona by King Oswald to re-Christianize England. He chose to found a monastery on an island off the northeast coast of England. Although it is mentioned in the 9th century Historia Brittonum (History of Britons) by the Welsh name of Medcaut (Healing), perhaps because of a reputation for medicinal herbs, it is more commonly known as Lindisfarne. Lindisfarne is a tidal island, meaning it is accessible by a causeway only when the tide is out. St. Aidan thought that this would provide security for the peaceful community of monks.

Aidan was given a horse by Oswald, so that he could ride to the nearby communities to preach. Legend says he gave the horse to a beggar and walked from village to village, speaking quietly and simply to the inhabitants, spreading the message of Christianity that had once been brought to England by Romans, but had been replaced after the fall of Rome by Anglo-Saxon paganism.

The night St. Aidan died, a teenager had a vision that inspired him to become a monk. He was made prior of Lindisfarne in 665 and bishop in 684. When he died in 687, St. Cuthbert (c.634-687) was made the patron saint of northern England.

A Viking raid on northeast England in June of 793 was bad news for Lindisfarne. The Vikings had no respect for the peaceful monks, and did great damage to the Priory. Alcuin of York, a highly respected scholar in the court of Charlemagne at the time, wrote:

Never before has such terror appeared in Britain as we have now suffered from a pagan race. . . .The heathens poured out the blood of saints around the altar, and trampled on the bodies of saints in the temple of God, like dung in the streets.

More raids in 875 led to the abandonment of the island by the monks, who carried away as much as they could, including the remnants of St. Cuthbert.

Now it has a population of fewer than 200. It is largely a nature reserve and a destination for tourists who visit the ruins of the priory and a small Tudor fort turned into a castle.