The Life and Passion of William of Norwich (Penguin Classics)

by Thomas of Monmouth

  [II] OF THE PUBLIC RISING OF THE TOMB

  By the witness of truth, we have learned it indeed to be true that the exalted on high will be made humble, and, equally, the humble will be exalted.15 For when the Lord spoke in parables to those invited, He warned them that he who is invited to a wedding should not sit down in the prime place, lest another more honourable person should come and compel him with shame to take the lower place. Then He went on, instructing the guest to sit down in the lowest place, so that when the host observes and discovers his guest’s deserts, he may merit to hear [him say]: ‘Friend, rise up.’16 Then, indeed, each of them would be awarded according to his merit, so that he who exalts himself shall be humbled and he who humbles himself shall be exalted. The psalmist, as if mocking, says of the humbling of him who exalts himself: ‘I have seen the wicked highly exalted, and lifted up like the Cedars of Lebanon and he passed away, and lo, he was not, etc.’17 The apostle Peter indeed preached of the exaltation of those who humble themselves, following the footsteps of his mistress truth, saying: ‘Be you humbled under the mighty hand of God, that he may exalt you in the time of visitation.’18 Moreover, the blessed and glorious Virgin Mary compressed both in the concision of a verse, when she says: ‘He hath put down the mighty from their seat, and hath exalted the humble.’19

  Divine grace willed that this exaltation of the humble, foretold in so many and such mighty prophecies, be seen by our own eyes at the tomb of His martyr who is to be glorified. Certainly we, who had measured the height of the tomb on the first day, had never suspected what was to happen: at the end of the year we found out this truly unbelievable thing, yet proven by the sight of very many people. When we observed the sudden rising of the tomb we took note of the measure of its depth and proved that it protruded by more than a whole hand. And what I say, before God as witness, the people of Norwich knew and proclaimed, even if I had remained silent. And so that I cannot be said by my detractors to have disrupted the sequence of events by suddenly inserting the described translation, and what came to pass in the course of a whole year, as if nothing memorable had happened in the interim, I answer and add the cause of what I have done. Because, I say, in the description of the translation I recorded that wondrous rising of the tomb, in front of our eyes, by the will of divine dispensation, and I carried on, since I think it is not unfitting to describe the rising which continued to grow up to the year’s end. And I acted in this way not in order to disrupt the order of the events, but so that I might bring together like with like.

  [III] OF THE CLOTH THAT WAS REMOVED AND THE LIGHT THAT WAS FORBIDDEN

  And so, in the year 1150 since the Lord’s Incarnation, as set out above, the martyr’s body, so worthy of worship, was translated into the chapterhouse on Wednesday after Palm Sunday [12 April] that was the ides of April20 [13 April]. On the Sunday that followed, the one on which the Resurrection of the Lord was celebrated,21 I, Thomas, by the advice of a number of colleagues, for the veneration of the venerable martyr on such a venerable day, placed a cloth over his tomb and placed at its head a large burning candle which I had prepared for that purpose. When Prior Elias heard about this, he took grave offence and ordered that what had been put there, as if with presumptuous boldness, should be contemptuously removed and never be put there again. At this the majority of the convent was much scandalized and upset; and it displeased them all the more for being a sign of ill will. Nevertheless, this happened – as they say – prompted more by the advice and envy of others than by the prior’s own will. I think it is better to say that it was the prescient discretion of so wise a man, which wished to correct and contain the audacity of our own presumption.

  [IV] OF A CERTAIN CLERK RELIEVED OF TOOTHACHE

  On that very day, indeed, when that audacious person presumed to disturb him with malice, divine mercy began to glorify its blessed martyr, and by a divine sign it revealed him to be worthy of much veneration, of which spiteful ill will had deemed him unworthy. For on Easter Day itself, a certain clerk of William the Sheriff,22 Geoffrey by name, was suffering from a most grievous toothache, and he came – inspired and led by pious devotion – to the tomb of the blessed martyr. Prompted by faith, his teacher, he took a piece of mortar [from the tomb] and brushed his teeth with it. The pain was suddenly lessened, as if he had never had it, and he left the tomb [feeling] well.

  [V] OF A MONK CURED OF A SIMILAR PAIN

  Just at that time, Edmund, a junior monk of Norwich, suffered from so fierce a toothache that the swollen gum gave visible sign of his suffering. The clerk described above came to his mind and so he soon made his way to that same haven in order to beg for a cure for his pain. What, indeed, he sought in good faith he deserved to have follow without delay. When he touched the stone of the tomb with his aching face, the pain immediately subsided and he felt the whole swelling empty out.

  [VI] OF THE VENERABLE VISION OF A CERTAIN RELIGIOUS MAN

  In those days it happened that a certain man saw a fair and venerable vision. He was a monk of Norwich, pious of life and habits, a man in whom it is truly right to trust, and his name was Peter Peverell.23 While he was formerly a knight in the world, for a long time he had served King Henry and was numbered among the inner circle of his household. This man, as he was resting at night, saw himself in a night vision, as if he were inside a church, watching and admiring a crowd of innumerable people dressed in white entering the church amidst a variety of harmonious sounds. Upon their entry such a light shone that the human eye could not bear it. Then he asked one of them, of aged and distinguished appearance, saying: ‘Sir, what is this gathering, so wonderful and dignified, entering with such glory into the church?’ And he answered: ‘This,’ he said, ‘is Our Lady, queen of heaven and the world, coming with this her family to visit her most beloved friend, who is at your place. She has already gone in with her maidens to have a private conversation with him.’

  When he heard this, the monk was terribly afraid and, not daring to remain there any longer, he left the church. But when, as it seemed to him, he had entered the cloister and approached the chapterhouse, an incomparable odour infused his nostrils as he approached it. As he was about to pass [the entrance to] the chapterhouse, he knelt in front of the image of the Lord, as is the custom, and looking in he saw that glorious Empress of Heaven and Earth seated at the head of the tomb on a golden throne that was splendidly decorated with royal emblems and crowned with gold and jewels shining in incomparable brightness. On her right and left there were two virgins of the greatest beauty, holding lit candles in their hands. In front of her, the blessed boy and martyr William knelt with a bowed head and on bended knees. For him the glorious Mother of the Lord was plaiting an admirable crown from the flowers brought to her by a third maiden, and when it was ready she placed it on his head.

  While the monk’s attention was focused on the glory of the blessed martyr and marvelled at it all greatly, the virgin, who – as I said – supplied the flowers, approached him. ‘What amazes you?’ she said. ‘At what do you wonder?’ And he replied, ‘Because I do not know what is happening here and I would really like to know.’ She said to him: ‘This is the Queen of Heaven and Mother of the Lord, who has come to visit her beloved friend the martyr William, who has been assigned as patron of this church; she has crowned him and conferred upon him the power to cure at will. So go now and honour him from now on, because the days will come when you, too, will have great need of him.’ And this happened, as will be revealed later.24

  After saying this, that celestial vision disappeared; the monk woke up and began to reflect with care on what he had seen. And when morning came he recounted to the brethren what he had seen in his vision, and from that day on many began to venerate the tomb of the holy martyr greatly and to frequent it with prayers. And I have heard many of them say that they smelt there frequently the smell of the sweetest fragrance emanating from the tomb of that venerable and most holy martyr.

  [VII] OF A CERTAIN WOMAN CURED OF A LONG-STANDI
NG ILLNESS

  Not much later, Claricia, wife of Geoffrey of March25 and niece of the Geraldine brothers,26 came to the most blessed martyr’s tomb seeking a longed-for remedy for her illness. She had been suffering for years from pain in her kidneys and knees, and she could not over many years be cured by doctors,27 although she had spent a great deal on them. And so, coming to that venerable tomb in the arms of those who led her there, but even more led by faith, she stood for a while praying, and then, with her knees bent as far as possible, she pressed them bare onto the bare stone. At that touch, the aforementioned pain in her limbs began to recede, so that she could already feel a long-lost health pouring into each of them. And so it happened that she who had come so weak, carried in the arms of others, by the work of divine medicine returned healthy and strong, needing support from no one.

  [VIII] OF ANOTHER FREED FROM THE FLUX OF BLOOD

  A few days later, on the Feast of the Holy Trinity, that is the Octave of Pentecost [11 June 1150], Alan of Setchy came with his wife Muriel, they who were the uncle and aunt of Richard, then sub-prior of Norwich.28 She had long suffered from the sickness of the flux of blood and, although she took many medicines for a long time, she could not find a cure for her illness. So, coming to the tomb of the martyr, she bent her knees, offered two candles, for herself and for her husband, and begged with tears for health. The pure prayer of the petitioner beat against the heavens and the grace of divine pity came down to earth with amazing speed. After completing her prayer and kissing the slab of the tomb with the greatest devotion, she suddenly felt the flux stop, though earlier it had flowed without even a moment’s pause. Then she called for me, overjoyed with happiness, and, because she held me as a particularly intimate friend, revealed to me privately the illness and how she had been suddenly cured of it.

  [IX] OF A BOY ON HIS DEATHBED CURED BY THE MERITS OF SAINT WILLIAM

  In those days a little boy, son of Ralph, the nephew of Prior Elias, was mortally ill, and death had already reached its final hour. And so, advice was given to his father and mother that they make a candle in great haste, the length and breadth of the boy, and, having made it, dedicate it to Saint William for the health of their son, and then no doubt they would soon receive the boy whole. And so immediately, as was said, the candle was made and was carried in the father’s hands to the tomb of the holy martyr to be given as a votive offering.29 Upon his return the father was delighted to find his son, whom he had left just a while earlier at death’s door, healthy.

  [X] HOW A MONK RECOVERED THE ABILITY TO SLEEP, WHICH HE HAD LOST, BY THE MERITS OF SAINT WILLIAM

  Around that time one of the older monks of Norwich, called Thomas, was for a long time suffering from an illness and lay in the infirmary cell. After he had been unable to sleep for three days he began to suffer gravely, and above all at night when his eyes could not rest even for a little while. And so, much oppressed by his suffering, he turned to the intercession of the glorious martyr William, whom he loved with the greatest devotion, pouring out this short prayer: ‘My Lord, Saint William, if indeed you are – as they say – of such great virtue and holiness in the presence of God, give me, your servant, the ability to rest and to recover the power of sleep, which I have lost.’ After saying this he fell silent and, without any delay at all, his sight gradually dimmed,30 he began to feel drowsy and presently to sleep. Refreshed thus by the sweetness of sleep and rest, when he woke he raised his head and, having called us to him, thanked God and Saint William by whose merits he earned recovery of the power of sleep, which he had lost.

  [XI] THAT LADY MABEL OF BEC AND HER SONS FREQUENTLY EXPERIENCED THE POWER OF THE HOLY MARTYR

  Around the same time, Lady Mabel of Bec31 arrived in Norwich, eager to come to the tomb of that glorious blessed martyr. She had become aware of the fame of his great powers, prayed there sincerely and, urged by pious devotion, took away with her a small piece broken off from the tomb slab. She took great care to guard it with the greatest diligence, so that in the future it would frequently bring the benefit of faith to her and hers. Since, indeed, she hoped faithfully, her hope did not deserve to be dashed. And so, whenever she or her sons incurred the trouble of any ill health, immediately they ran for succour to the medicine which her faith had provided and on whose efficacy they relied. Calling on the aid of the holy martyr William they scraped the stone and dissolved it in holy water, then drank it, and soon they experienced relief and the speedy power of divine grace.32

  [XII] OF THE VISION OF THE MONK RICHARD, AND HIS DEATH, AND HIS RECOVERY OF SIGHT

  When by these and other exercises of power the pious martyr had begun to flourish, among these great works of piety it also happened that he became a little annoyed and angry towards one who failed to obey him. And this, as we conjecture, was especially the case because he observed an abuse of his patience when the cloth and the light were removed [from his tomb] and their restoration was forbidden; that is to say, in order that, this being done, he might both strike fear into them and encourage their souls to put right the evil they had done. He wished to make manifest by clear signs that he was irritated and he took care to send a message to Elias, the prior of Norwich, through a certain monk, Richard of Lynn.33 This Richard was seized in those days by fevers and was tormented more and more keenly every day. Therefore, moved by our advice and by that of others, he went to the often mentioned tomb of the blessed martyr, keeping vigil during a night of prayer, and begged of him the remedy of health.

  While he camped there with his two servants, suddenly a black pig entered the chapterhouse; in reality – as it was believed by some – the devil in the shape of a pig.34 It entered unexpectedly, grunting; the servants woke up and were – I dare say – terrified, and the pig ran straight towards the sleeping monk, leapt over him unexpectedly and terrified him exceedingly as he lay half-asleep. Seeing this, the servants immediately rose up, flocked together and just managed to expel it from the chapterhouse. A group of monks of the choir came running to expel it from the cloister, and after much running back and forth across the cloister, finally they were only just able to push it out.

  And as can be conjectured from several circumstances, that ancient enemy of the human race always envies the success of saints and is always laying snares at their heels.35 Perhaps through that actual pig, the filthiest animal, most fitting to him, he wanted to have sport with the monk or to terrify him and so to drive him away from his devout purpose. Meanwhile, the sick man who lay in the chapterhouse at the said tomb, and was half-asleep again as day broke, saw in a vision Saint William coming to him and saying: ‘Why have you come, Richard, and what do you want?’ And he said: ‘Because I am sick, Lord, and wish to be cured.’ The martyr said to him: ‘You have brought nothing. You have offered nothing, brother. But if I cure you what gift would you give me?’ The monk replied: ‘What, Lord, shall I give? I who possess nothing that I can worthily give?’ The martyr answered: ‘Being born on the day called Candlemas I love candles, and, therefore, I surely want the candles you have.’36 When he [the monk] said that he had no candles, he [William] added: ‘On the contrary, brother, you have candles, which you have not acquired justly, and of those the biggest and most beautiful you have put aside secretly and have in hiding. I want to have them all, and especially the most beautiful ones, which you have put aside to give to the wife of your brother.’ And the monk said: ‘This simply cannot be done, Lord, that I should give you as a gift what I have prepared for her. But you surely will not refuse to accept the others, whatever their quality, that I give willingly?’ Then the martyr, moved by anger, rejoined: ‘So then you love her more than you do me? You have not distributed them rightly, brother, when you assigned to that little woman the ones you value and to me those you do not value. Why, then, do you come to me to be cured, me whom you do not love from [the depth of] your heart? Therefore, know for sure that your desire will never survive against my ill will. I especially advise you to bring here in the morning both lots of candles I men
tioned; but if you refuse, know for sure that I shall have the ones I want willy-nilly. If you are to enjoy our favour, then offer the candles I have requested and hand them over to Lord Thomas, my personal sacrist, for keeping. And when you have done so, tell him to keep them, and five others, which he has stored in his book cupboard37 for my use, because soon the lighting, previously prohibited, may be restored to me. Furthermore, do not fear to tell Prior Elias that I advise him in good faith to quickly make good with appropriate honour the injury of the insult to which I was subjected, and restore to me the cloth and the lights that were removed. God wishes it, surely, and commands that it be done. And if the prior absolutely refuses, and on the contrary presumes impudently to make little of our command and go against divine dispensation, he will certainly have to make serious amends in the future. And as for you, since you have resisted my request so far, I give you warning with this announcement, that for the sin of your disobedience you will pay with such suffering the like of which you have never felt before. And if, indeed, having been corrected, you still do not satisfy my wish, be sure that you will suffer much more. Now then go, and if you have any sense let my words be lodged unshakeably in your mind.’

  Having seen these things, Richard woke up, terrified by so dreadful a vision, and since it was already daybreak he got up, went to the infirmary and, after about an hour, having summoned the prior as well as a good many of us, he recounted all that had been said to him and enjoined upon him. The things he had been told to say to the prior, however, he took care to say to him alone. Having heard this, the prior was agitated and not a little fearful, and he set out to enquire diligently and find out the truth. And having met me to talk about the aforementioned five candles, he ordered that they should be brought, if, indeed, it was true that I had them. Now I forgot three candles that I had brought to light at the tomb of the holy martyr on Easter Day, but which I had put away tied up separately in a cupboard labelled with the martyr’s name, since lighting them was prohibited; but I only remembered those two, which – as we said – Lady Muriel de Stechy had offered on the Feast of the Holy Trinity, and I said I had only those and ran to bring them. When I opened the cupboard, the two, which had not yet escaped my memory, were immediately found. Having found them, I started to search carefully to see if perhaps the three, which I was said to have, might be found. When I found them – since, indeed, they were there – I recognized them to be the martyr’s by the above-mentioned written label; having identified them, I joined them to the other two and so brought the prior the full five, happy and greatly amazed. Seeing them, the prior – considering in his mind the truth of the secrets thus revealed and consequently bearing in mind the threatened sentence – at one moment showed his approval and pretended with a smile to be happy, while at another his pale face showed him to be afraid.