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

by Thomas of Monmouth

  [VI] OF THE DAUGHTER OF THE SMITH OF POSTWICK,6 WHO WAS ILL AND WAS CURED

  There was in the village called Postwick a smith whose daughter was sick, suffering for many days from a very grave illness. She heard of the fame told by many and of the great powers of the health-giving martyr, and, touched by the impulse of faith, she hurried as fast as she could to the sacred tomb of the holy martyr. When she arrived there, holding a candle in her right hand, she prayed with devotion of the whole mind and begged for a cure to her illness with tearful prayers. Having said her prayer, she offered a candle on bent knees, and at the moment she pressed her kisses to the tombstone she found she had been restored suddenly to full health.

  [VII] HOW THE SAINT WARNED IN A VISION THAT HIS TOMB BE TENDED AND KEPT VERY CLEAN AND PROTECTED

  In those days7 the glorious boy and martyr William appeared to a certain good and truly trustworthy man, and said: ‘Be my messenger and go to my tomb next Sunday, and tell those who are there that they should show me greater reverence than usual. For many people are not ashamed to touch the stone of my tomb or its cloth with muddy feet and even to stain it; and the pavement around me is dirty with the disgusting spittle of many. So take care to command my Thomas that he keep my tomb more carefully and that he tell those coming to it with how much reverent propriety they should approach me.’ When the man spoke this to me I strove to observe his words with the greatest diligence, and henceforward remained even more devout in his [William’s] service.

  [VIII] OF THE MIRACLE BY WHICH HE RECOVERED THE CLOTH THAT HAD BEEN REMOVED

  It is worth the effort to make known to the devotion of believers the source from which it may always be increased. For while the little flame of our devotion often learns by listening to the pious deeds of the saints again and again, it flares up as a result, as if fanned by a breath of piety, and burns more strongly with love. And so, in those days it happened that William,8 then sheriff of Norwich, moved by very great anger, was acting severely against a certain Edward and Robert, who were brothers. Inspired by that anger, while he was preparing to arrest them, he failed to do so because they had found safety in flight, but he violently seized those of their goods that he found. At that time Robert was staying in the house of Richard, Dean of Bedingham,9 and out of fear he spent the nights in the church of St Andrew.10 And while he was resting there one night, having given his limbs to sleep, the pious boy and martyr William appeared to him in a vision and said: ‘I take pity on you, Robert, because you have both suffered abuse through the great loss of goods, and are being forced in fear to live as an exile in another’s house. So have two wax candles made in my name and do not delay to have them sent across to me by the hand of the priest Godwin, whose surname is Sturt; in return for this I promise you that before Christmas you and your lord will be reconciled. And pray to the monks of Norwich that they intercede for you. And be sure to send a token on my behalf, that they strive for the restoration of the cloth that was previously taken away from me, and which has frequently been requested, but has never been returned to me. Indeed, if I am ignored in this matter they will know for sure, because one of them will soon pay dearly. And also my shoe should be put not in the place they had chosen, but – because it is not sufficiently fitting – elsewhere for the time being.’11

  After seeing this, when Robert woke up in the morning he was elated with great joy and related the business to his host, the dean; he had wax candles made and, once ready, he sent them; and he added for the monks a word about the order and the warning; and after a few days had passed he received the fulfilment of the promise, according to the word of the holy martyr. Prior Richard,12 who had immediately succeeded Prior Elias, moved by that menacing message, immediately ran to the church for the cloth, picked it up and carried it on his own shoulders and placed it on the aforementioned tomb of the holy martyr. And so he corrected with the obedience of pious devotion what others had imprudently done. I wonder very much about what was said of the shoe, since up to that time no one truly knew either who then had it or where it ought to be placed. I, Thomas, then absent, had the shoe in my private care, unknown to all others. And while I was on my way back to Norwich I received a casket13 from Lady Mabel of Bec for that purpose, and I had intended to put secretly in it that very shoe and some other relics of that martyr. And when I came home I was truly amazed to learn of the commands made about the shoe; I laid those other relics I mentioned inside the casket and put back that shoe where it had been before.

  [IX] ON THE REVELATION OF THE HOLY TEETH AND THE CURE OF WILLIAM THE SACRIST; AND OF HIS DEATH FOLLOWING THE BREAKING OF A VOW

  At that time, William,14 sacrist of the church of Norwich, whom we have already mentioned above in this book, happened to be suffering from a long-standing complaint that was growing worse; and as the suffering of the illness grew more serious, so did the frightful pain which he suffered around his lower parts, and more than usual. The pious martyr William, feeling for his pain, appeared in a night vision first to one Osbert, called of Montpellier, and in a second to another, whose name escapes my memory, and said: ‘Go and tell William the sacrist – whose pain I truly feel – on my behalf, that he should speak to Thomas my sacrist about his health. And if Thomas rinses my teeth – which he has so far secreted away – in holy water, and gives it him to drink, within just a few days he will without doubt recover a full remedy of health. But first I want him [William the sacrist] to vow to me not to take any other medicine save mine, which he is about to receive.15 And if he breaks the vow out of carelessness or negligence, immediately he should look into himself, because I have reckoned that he will not survive the fourth day after.’

  And so, when the commands of the night vision were brought to the notice of the sacrist by the same men, and after he had called me immediately, he told me those things that had been revealed and announced in the vision, and added: ‘Lo! Brother, my health is in your hands. So hurry up! Do not waste time! Do not spoil my hope by the penalty of delay!’ I heard this and I was much amazed and not a little afraid. Without doubt I was afraid that if it became known that I had the teeth in my possession – which so far was unknown to all – I might perhaps lose them. Therefore, first I began on their account to deny, because I did not want to lose them. But when I had long denied, and the sick man and those who attended him had insisted vehemently and persistently, I finally confessed and agreed to show them what I had first denied.

  Why say more? I brought the teeth, washed them in holy water and offered it to the sick man. And as he held the goblet he took the vow he was commanded to do, drank what was in the goblet and from day to day gradually got better. While he was convalescing, it happened that I went away and stayed elsewhere for a while. Meanwhile, the sacrist became very badly constipated, since his stomach did not answer the call of nature, and he suffered terrible pains of the stomach. And when, as it seemed to him, I had been away too long and the stomach ache grew worse and worse, it was often suggested to him that he seek advice from doctors and that he try out a medical cure. But he was afraid because of the vow by which he was bound and did not at all want to submit to their advice, but rather delay it all until my return. But when I had been very long in returning and the strength of the pains became far too great, he agreed, alas, to the persuasive doctors and turned to the refuge of false medicine.

  After this I returned home on the following day, and when I found out what had happened I was deeply grieved and reproached him for breaking his vow. He excused himself for the crime of transgression both by my absence and by his suffering, and I retorted at once, now shouting at him, now giving calm advice: ‘Had you forgotten, my dear friend, that you were bound by a vow? Have the terrible threats of what would happen if you break the vow escaped your memory? You must look to yourself, because I fear greatly for you. Everybody knows that tomorrow will be the third day since you received the medicine, and I fear the outcome, that when the fourth day arrives – we may lose you on it.’ And while I continued wi
th such admonitions, he seemed to me to make little of the warnings, being neither very frightened nor fully at ease.

  What more? Sunset ended the third day and he rose from dinner and lay down in bed as if to settle himself to rest. But that rest was not of sleep, alas, but of death. When we wanted to wake him, we found him already dead. From this the diligent reader will consider with what diligence of care the commands of saints should be observed; and the more powerful and distinguished they are known to be, the more fully should we take heed not to offend them. If, indeed, it happens that their command is neglected by carelessness, only rarely does such a crime of neglect go unpunished. For it is patently clear that he who commands is enraged when his instruction is most disregarded by those who should have heeded it most. And we instruct by many examples that he who has vowed and not observed his vow has deserved such punishment.

  [X] HOW THE MARTYR HELPED THOSE ENDANGERED AT SEA, AND CURED A MOTHER AND SON THROUGH THE FINDING OF A SPRING

  And I consider that one should not remain silent about something that a certain Botilda – whom in the second book we have already shown to have been freed miraculously from the distress of childbirth by a branch of fern, thanks to the merits of the blessed martyr16 – told us: that is to say, what great wonders the blessed martyr William has deigned to work, both on land and at sea. While she was making her way back from the shrines of Saint James and Saint Gilles,17 and in order to reach England was crossing the Norman Sea18 in a ship with fellow pilgrims, it happened that she fell asleep on the ship when they had already reached the midst of the sea, and Saint William seemed to be with her, saying: ‘Behold, in a short while a most serious tempest is about to arrive, and unless I had already interceded for you, the ship and all on it would already be in danger.

  ‘And so, when the hour of need arrives, call upon me as advocate and intercessor with Christ on your behalf, and without doubt a great calm will follow with the sun shining, as if no tempest had ever gone before. And then around evening, by a good course you will reach the shore of England with all the more joy for having seen yourselves snatched from danger. And you, Botilda, when you reach Norwich, you will encounter your son – whom you have placed from his birth under my patronage – sick, and you will hasten to my hermitage in Thorpe Wood. As you and he approach the tree where once I was thrown by the Jews, where I lay for a while under the sky, dig around its roots a little and when you find water there, drink it. Having drunk it, you will be freed from the ailment you suffer, and so will your son from his. From then on strive to let all know that a cure will surely come to all those who faithfully drink of that water. Now then, get up at once, because the time of the tempest is near, and do not forget any of the commands.’

  The woman woke up in great fear, saw the darkness of the night immediately covering the whole black sea, and the sky and the light of day cut off from the eyes of all. As everyone there was already confronting death, the stricken ship was exposed to imminent shipwreck: now lifted by the waves and raised almost to the skies, now sinking as if cast into an abyss. All were in despair: the shouting and wailing were pitiful, and those of great wisdom prayed for help to divine mercy. And the said woman saw that all was in crisis, so she ran into the midst and with a clear voice exclaimed: ‘Why such despair? Call together on God and Saint William the martyr of Norwich with a devout heart and I promise you a speedy delivery!’ Everyone was transfixed by this voice, and the hearts of all bowed to the woman’s command with an amazing unanimity. And when they all cried out in this fashion, suddenly the sun smiled, shining brightly, and without delay calm was restored, soon bringing peace to the sea as fully as if no storm had gone before. After a short period of time, the ship reached the coast of England on a prosperous course and all joyfully disembarked, each one of them going on his or her own way.

  When that woman reached Norwich, she found that her son was ill, just as had been foretold. She took him with her and, with a priest as her witness, rushed to the wood, dug under that tree and soon found water gushing out. Once they tasted it, immediately the mother and son both felt better, and she found the prophecies of her vision to be most true in every part. Thereafter, we also know that many people received the remedy they hoped for by tasting that water. We can wonder greatly about this: that in a dry and sandy place a little spring of water appeared. For had it not been for the will of divine omnipotence, no water course at all would have come forth in such a place. For that dry place was so full of sand that if you poured a whole jug of water there, after a short period of time you would find not the least sign of it. But is it a wonder that He who was once able to produce from the hardest rock a flow of water for those who were thirsty19 can – if He wishes – open a little spring in the sand for those who are sick? When it comes to divine omnipotence nothing is amazing, nothing is impossible, yet we humans are habitually amazed when we see something that is new or uncommon take place.

  [XI] OF A CERTAIN WOMAN CURED OF A LONG-STANDING ILLNESS, AND OF ANOTHER WHO RECOVERED HER LOST SIGHT

  And when among the achievement of so many wonderful miracles, paeans of praise spread abroad in all directions, many people gathered every single day at the tomb of the blessed martyr William. Some came in order to receive the grace of health and others for prayer or devotion. Among them was a woman of Norwich, by the name of Ada, who had been suffering from illness for a year, and she was led, supported by the arms of her husband Siwate on one side, and by another on the other. And it happened after the prayer that followed her offering that she who had come sad and dependent on the help of others returned in joy, confident in her own powers, already cured by celestial medicine.

  And Ravenilda, wife of William of Hastedun,20 who had gradually lost the sight of her eyes, which had long been weakening, led by another, came to the tomb of Saint William and rejoiced in receiving full sight. And so it happened that she who came there blind, returned from there happy, after receiving light.

  [XII] OF A CERTAIN PRIEST AND HIS FAMILY, AND A CERTAIN WOMAN WHO WAS CURED

  At that time Walter, priest of Tivetshall,21 and many of his family who were suffering from a grave illness, as soon as they made vows and asked for help of Saint William – as we have heard from that priest’s account – were restored to perfect health. But also the wife of Richard of Bedingham, of whom we have made mention above,22 was suffering from a grave illness of her stomach and kidneys, and earned a cure by the antidote of celestial medicine through the merits of the blessed William.

  [XIII] OF AN INSANE GIRL CURED, AND MANY OTHERS

  We also saw in those days a little girl, the daughter of Eustace the Moneyer,23 brought in a state of insanity to the tomb of the holy martyr, and after the space of an hour returning healthy. And others besides, who had illnesses and diseases, we have seen come to him; and we know from their subsequent accounts that they had received cures. I have not inserted their names and the whole list of events into this book, in order to avoid tedium, because too much prolixity most often vexes the good will of readers.

  Here ends the fourth book.

  Book Five

  The chapters of book five begin. [i] Of his translation from the chapterhouse into the church. [ii] That on the night after the translation the sacrist was to hear wonderful things. [iii] Of a youth who vomited live serpents. [iv] Of some who were cured of fevers by the merits of Saint William. [v] How he corrected the priest Godwin in jest, and called him back from unjust profit. [vi] Of a sick person cured by touching the tomb. [vii] Of the golden ring recovered by a night vision. [viii] Of a sufferer from dropsy who was cured at an amazing speed. [ix] Of a certain dean from the province of Lincoln who was cured. [x] Of a certain Gerard who was freed from his shackles. [xi] Of a lost psalter recovered by the merits of Saint William. [xii] Of a demoniac freed. [xiii] Of another mad person cured. [xiv] Of a bent woman cured. [xv] Of another bent woman. [xvi] Of a bent and mute girl. [xvii] Of another blind and mute. [xviii] Of a boy miraculously cured. [xix] Of a clerk who was
in a bad way and was cured. [xx] Of a monk freed by a vision of swelling and pain in the eye. [xxi] Of Saint William’s mother, whose illness and death were announced by him in a night vision. [xxii] Of a matron cured of a long-standing pain and swelling in her knees. [xxiii] Of another woman cured of deafness.

  Here begins the fifth book.

  [I] OF HIS TRANSLATION FROM THE CHAPTERHOUSE INTO THE CHURCH

  A great multitude already began to flow – not only from the surrounding villages, but also from further parts – to the tomb of the blessed William, which at the time lay in the chapterhouse, so that the community of monks residing in the cloister could no longer bear the daily throng of such a multitude.1 Every day a multitude of men and women passed noisily in front of them – how could their peace not be disturbed? And so it was decided by consultation within the community that God’s glorious martyr should be transferred to the church and be placed there with his coffin, where access to him would be more easily available to the people thronging to it.

  Need I say more? A place was provided near the high altar on its south side, and a fitting day was chosen for the carrying out of the business. The bishop, wishing that the translation come to the notice of only very few, instructed me and the sacrist, who was then Giulfus,2 that with the necessary preparations duly made in advance, the event was to take place in such a way that it be completed at early dawn with few people involved. The day was the second of July, and at midday, while the brethren were resting in the dormitory3 and did not know what was taking place, I and the same Giulfus approached the tomb and, after the tombstone was removed, we found him in the condition in which we had previously put him there. And so we raised him up and carried him together to a secret place in the church until the morrow, and returned to the chapterhouse to replace the tomb slab, as if no change had occurred there.