At this point the diligent wisdom of the reader should take note that we have inserted into our book this rhetorical disputation65 only in order to publish the fact that those most wily and avaricious people, the Jews, had they not felt themselves guilty of the death of the glorious boy and martyr William, would not have had much fear of the proof of the priest nor would they have evaded it in every way. In the same way, they would not have paid so much money to the king and his counsellors nor promised so much to the bishop, in order to restrain discussion of the murder, nor, above all, would they have left the death of the murdered Jew alone without complaint, without any settlement or compensation. It appears, therefore, that they were fully aware of the great crime. And so, though they are indeed most avaricious, because of their guilt they were not averse to buying a remedy for their fear.
XV HOW THE JUDGEMENT OF DIVINE REVENGE APPEARED WITH REGARD TO JOHN THE SHERIFF, PROTECTOR OF THE JEWS
We would not on any account pass over the death of the sheriff John, which we believe to have been caused by the fitting wrath of God. Indeed, from the very day of the synod at which – as we have recorded in the previous book – he had withdrawn the Jews from Christian justice, having been remunerated with many gifts, he began to suffer from an incurable disease. For truly, as he later attested to his own associates, from whom I learned this very thing after his death, at the very moment in time that he began to protect the Jews and clearly to oppose Christian law – as has been described above – drops of blood began to flow, drop by drop, through his posterior.66 And so divine vengeance showed itself around him, so he himself could truly say with the Jews: ‘His innocent blood be upon us and our children.’67 And so, for two years, with the blood flowing from him often through his lower parts, the power of his body was diminished by the lack of blood, inducing facial pallor, and, although he clearly felt the wrath of God upon him, he was so obstinate that he would not repent. But in the third year, in which he roused and sharpened the wrath of God even more against him and accelerated the planned revenge of divine providence against him, he made bold to disturb the peace of the church of Norwich with daring audacity and presumed to disturb its right, which pertains to its dignity – confirmed by kings and by the pontiffs of the apostolic see – to elect its bishop.68 For such great evils he deserved the wrath of God and by God’s wish the mentioned disease intensified in him. And when the Prior of Norwich, William, was appointed to that church and consecrated bishop, John suffered so greatly from the disease that he was utterly unable to return from London69 – where the events took place – to Norwich, because of the worsening of the disease. But he turned off the way at Mileham,70 hardly able to reach it, and after a few days, weak with the unceasing flow of blood, his powers as well as his blood exhausted, he met his end, I hope then, at least, in a state of penitence. And so, may the diligent reader ponder on these issues with care: divine vengeance will fall heavily on him who does not fear to oppose the Holy Church and Christian law in this manner.
Here ends the second book.
Book Three
The chapters of the third book begin. [i] Of his translation from the cemetery to the chapterhouse; how, although the order of the bishop and Prior Elias urged it, the tomb of the saint could not be made level with that of the chapterhouse pavement. [ii] Of the subsequent public rising of the tomb. [iii] Of the cloth that was removed and the light that was forbidden. [iv] Of a certain clerk who was freed of toothache on Easter Day. [v] Of a monk who was similarly freed. [vi] Of the vision of a monk, Peter Peverell by name, who had once been a knight in the world, and his correction. [vii] How the sick wife of Geoffrey of March came to the tomb of the holy martyr and returned healthy. [viii] How Muriel, wife of Alan of Setchy,1 was freed of a certain illness of hers, at his tomb. [ix] Of a little boy close to death and cured by the merits of the holy martyr. [x] How a monk who suffered from lack of sleep had sleep restored immediately upon petitioning the holy martyr. [xi] That Lady Mabel de Bec and her sons experienced the power of the holy martyr. [xii] Of the vision of Richard of Lynn and his death, and on the restoration of light in the chapterhouse. [xiii] How W. the sacrist2 was cured of pain in the head and deafness by the merits of the holy martyr. [xiv] Of one Aldith, who was freed from a long-standing illness. [xv] Of another woman who suffered for a long time and was cured miraculously by a vision. [xvi] Of a mute boy led to the tomb by a vision, and how he recovered the power of speech. [xvii] Of a boy cured of a year-long dysentery. [xviii] Of a certain woman from Ormesby, restored to health. [xix] How divine power came to the aid of sailors in danger at sea, thanks to the merits of the holy martyr. [xx] Of the ailing pigs of a poor woman who were cured. [xxi] How mortality among oxen was frequently halted thanks to the power of the holy martyr William. [xxii] Of a certain Ida, freed from very grave suffering. [xxiii] Of the amazing vision of a certain virgin. [xxiv] Of a certain Goldeburga who was ill and then was cured. [xxv] Of the daughter of Bartholomew of Creake, freed from fevers. [xxvi] Of a certain sufferer from dropsy who was cured. [xxvii] Of a certain ten-year-old boy who was brought to the tomb of the holy martyr and immediately sensed the lifting of his long-standing illness. [xxviii] How a certain Hildebrand recovered from his illness. [xxix] How the sacrist of Holy Trinity Church in Canterbury3 sensed the power of the holy martyr William manifest in the healing of his palfrey and his clerk. [xxx] How a certain Emma of Wighton was cured of a most serious illness at the tomb of the most holy martyr. [xxxi] How many people received a remedy for their ailments by drinking dust scraped off the surface of his tomb with holy water. [xxxii] How the son of Aluric, of the monks’ tailor shop, was cured of a swelling in his throat.
Here begins the third book.4
[I] OF THE TRANSLATION OF THE SAINT’S BODY TO THE CHAPTERHOUSE
When the grace of Christ, which moderates all things, wished to make His blessed and glorious martyr [even] more glorious, and to make manifest to faithful folk in what glory he lives after his death in the flesh, He indicated by a venerable and wondrous revelation that he [William] should be transferred from the cemetery. Indeed, six years had passed since the burial of the blessed martyr William in the cemetery; on Tuesday of the first week of Lent [7 March 1150], while I, Thomas of Norwich,5 was resting in bed in the dormitory of the monk-brethren after matins, I was rewarded by seeing in a dream at night a venerable and memorable vision inspired by divine grace. I saw in my presence a man of a venerable appearance, grey with age, dressed in episcopal garb shining with incomparable whiteness. He raised at me the crozier that he carried and said: ‘Rise, brother, and hurry to tell Elias6 the prior, my beloved son, that he himself should inform Bishop William on my behalf that as soon as possible the most precious treasure which the brothers have buried in the cemetery, they should transfer from there. Because if, moved by negligence, they fail to obey the paternal command, let them realize that they will quickly lose him, to the greatest detriment of [their] church.’ Then, asking who it was who announced these things to me, he responded: ‘I am that HERBERT first founder of the church of Norwich by the grace of God. Go then, brother, and carry to the sons these tokens of [my] fatherly command. Let them remember, I say, that when I used to set off to the royal court they would urge me to strive and procure from the king some venerable relics of the saints, for the honour of their church. I used to say to them that I would not seek those just then, but rather lands and incomes, because after a certain period of time, by the working of divine grace, it would soon happen that they would have so many and such venerable relics that the church of Norwich would be much exalted and become famous in the whole of England and venerated in foreign parts. These are, I say, the relics whose transfer I have foretold and which, unless they are brought indoors soon, a thief – pondering in his mind, drawn by such a prize – might gird himself to take them away. Therefore, in the morning, brother, when you wake up, do not fail to relate to the sons that I have made these fatherly commands.’
Once he had said this, he depa
rted. When I woke up, while I turned the vision over in my mind with care, immediately the revelation of Gamaliel to Lucian occurred to me.7 Therefore, I deliberately refrained from fulfilling the command imposed upon me, because I greatly hoped for a second or third revelation. After two weeks had passed, before daybreak on the Sunday when Oculi mei8 is chanted, resting where I had done before, the same venerable Bishop Herbert appeared to be present and said: ‘Why, brother, have you delayed in the business enjoined upon you? Why have you not obeyed our command? Be a prompt messenger, because it is most necessary for the church that this business be completed. Behold those who are attracted by very many rewards, who would steal and take away the treasure of which I have spoken. Rise, then, brother, rise, and do not delay in fulfilling the command enjoined upon you.’ Upon saying this he disappeared. And so, rising, as dawn had already broken, I immediately hurried to the church and poured out my soul to the Lord in prayer before the high altar. With many prayers and tears I begged for divine mercy, lest I be deprived of a third revelation. And what I requested I merited to receive by God’s will. Because as dawn broke on the Sunday when the church customarily chants Isti sunt dies quos observare debetis,9 as I rested in bed, the aforementioned Bishop Herbert appeared to come to me, holding with his right hand a boy about twelve years old, and he touched and woke me with the crozier he carried in his left hand. I woke up, and yet I was not – I believe – quite awake, I turned my eyes upwards with a slightly raised head and saw him in front of me in the manner I described. He, as if in displeasure, shaking his head and threatening with his crozier, said to me: ‘Had he whom you see me holding in my right hand not been your patron, not interceded for you, you would have already incurred a most bitter punishment for disobeying your father’s command.’ Then, grabbing me by the left arm, he pinched me, shook me and left visible marks of his thumb imprinted on my arm. And he said: ‘You, indeed, Thomas, were a doubting Thomas,10 but at least believe now. Here is, I say, the glorious boy and true imitator of the Lord’s Passion, William, who demands to be transferred without delay from the cemetery indoors. And if this is not done with greatest haste, let the brethren know for sure that they will soon lose him, unless God prevents it. Arise, then, and when you do, tell the bishop and prior what we have enjoined upon you to tell them. The place, indeed, where he has chosen to dwell henceforth is the chapterhouse and his tombstone is to be placed among the seats of the choirboys.’11
Once these things were said I swiftly dressed in my habit and, removing the tip of my cowl from my eyes, I searched diligently for the bishop and the boy I had previously seen. And since, in fact, they did not appear and therefore I thought I had seen those things only in my sleep, my eyes at that time being heavy and full of sleep, I put my head down and went back to sleep. Then again it appeared to me as if some of the brethren approached the tomb of the blessed martyr William with me, at the prior’s behest, opened it and found it to be full of the purest and brightest silver. When we took it, wrapping it in the cleanest cloths, and carried it into the cloister, led by the bishop and prior, a great gathering of people dressed in white came towards us, as if about to receive the treasure. And it seemed to me that after it had been censed, with the brethren leading the way in procession, we carried it into the church in front of the high altar. In a sermon to the people the bishop showed the treasure that had been bestowed by the grace of God on the people of Norwich for their great veneration. Then the most blessed boy and martyr rose and, addressing the bishop, said: ‘Command, Lord Father, that a little bed be prepared for me in the chapterhouse, because I wish to rest there a little while, as a boy among boys, and later I shall return once again to the church.’ And so the bishop ordered that he should be carried to where he asked to be. And it appeared to me that this had happened in a dream and I suddenly awoke, and I wondered when I looked around and could see nothing of what I had earlier seen. I recognized it was a vision in my sleep.
But when I woke up in the morning, when according to the rule speech is permitted,12 I came to Prior Elias and divulged the fatherly instructions to him. He was truly overjoyed, first because he perceived the true signs of the father, and then because he saw honour of great worth coming to the church of Norwich, and in turn he retold to the bishop the vision and all that had happened. So the bishop gave thanks to God for these events and began immediately to discuss with the prior the manner of the translation. What need of more? The day, hour and manner of the event were decided, as well as the brethren who should undertake the business. Six were appointed to it, and I, Thomas, earned a place among them. And so, when the hour arrived on the appointed day, that is Wednesday after Palm Sunday [12 April 1150], at night after lauds were completed, when the whole convent – apart from us six – had retired to the dormitory, after chanting seven psalms with a litany, we set to work before dawn to execute the task enjoined upon us. As we were approaching the tomb in which that illustrious dust of the blessed martyr was hidden, and hesitating as to who would strike the first blow, suddenly we were seized by horror. And it was I who regained my courage while my colleagues were transfixed by fear: I grabbed an iron wedge and inserted it at a joining of the stones; I hit it hard with a big mallet and on the third blow the wedge penetrated the stones and they began to separate. Seeing this, my colleagues mustered their courage and worked together to move the upper stone. Having removed it, while the others fell back, not daring to fix their gaze within, I and another of my colleagues boldly approached and invited the others to gaze upon it. Then, having applied ample candlelight, we all contemplated the truth as it actually was. While we gazed at him, I saw two front teeth, separated from the jaw and set apart. When I saw them I at first hesitated as to whether I should take them, tempted to carry out a pious theft13 without the knowledge of my colleagues, then I picked them up; having taken them, I wrapped them in a very clean cloth and, thus wrapped, I hid them in a secret place. No one could know that I had them, until later he himself revealed it. Once they were revealed, we proved that many people were cured on many occasions – as will be recounted in what follows14 – by the water in which we used to wash the teeth.
And so the martyr was raised up with the utmost reverence and we wrapped him in the whitest linen and covered him with a cloth, and we completed everything with diligent care just as dawn broke. Then, having chanted prime, the convent solemnly approached and carried him to the chapterhouse, where the grave had been prepared by the stonecutters and masons and the coffin inserted into it, in the very place that he had asked for in the vision. But to the eyes of those present a wondrous thing appeared, most amazing of all to me. For both the mandate of the bishop, and the prior who attended and gave orders as to how the thing should be done, instructed that the coffin should be buried in the grave level with the pavement and protrude above it not at all or very little; and so the masons strove to execute both the mandate sent by the bishop and the order of the prior delivered on the spot. So with the greatest of care, and comparing the thickness of the coffin with the depth of the grave, they had no doubt at all that they had executed the task as was desired. But by the working of divine grace the outcome turned out to be the opposite. In this case, man and servant disposed in one way, but God and Lord had preordained in another for the veneration of His martyr. The coffin was put in the grave and the body in the coffin; but the tomb slab put on top was found to protrude almost wholly above the pavement. Seeing this, the indignant prior immediately ordered the removal of the slab, the body to be exposed again and the earth to be re-dug and put aside, so that when the body was reburied and the slab put back, the tomb would be level with the pavement. And while the workers toiled with care at this job, God – who is glorious in His saints – openly glorified His servant martyr. Because the tomb, which protruded before, against the wishes of the prior, with divine grace operating secretly, was now seen by the eyes of those present to be still protruding. And seeing this, the convent of brothers rejoiced, and many even cried for joy; and
those who a little earlier were saddened by the lowering of the coffin, later rejoiced greatly by its rising through the public display of divine power. The prior was dumbfounded by this and allowed it to remain so, since he did not believe it safe to resist divine power any further.
The Life and Passion of William of Norwich (Penguin Classics) Page 15