‘This I have often heard from the virgin herself, from her father, and from the chaplain and other trustworthy people. I have studied it carefully, have checked the truth and have taken care to write it for you as briefly as I could.’
[XIX]
In the realm of the highest city there are many and varied mansions39 for the citizens, but one and only joy radiates upon all in the vision of its king. And those who in their multiplicity are gathered in the glory of one joy are equally connected by a single harmony of charity. And so I do not wonder that some who I believe to be colleagues in pious merits also equally work together in many miracles; and sometimes it happens that they are participants in a single miracle, even if they are not equal in merits. And so, in AD 1172, a certain Geoffrey, called of Canterbury, suffered from a most fearful toothache. Therefore, encouraged by the advice of his relatives, he had the three molars in the left jaw – which troubled him the most – removed; and that done, thinking little of it, he sat down to a very unhealthy supper. Seeing the most beautiful of peas placed on the table, and the fattest goose with garlic, allured by appetite, he tasted from everything to the fill; he drank new beer, but the taste of this contrary diet soon led to the most awful torment of swelling and pain. The anguish of the pain grew gradually, so that finally his whole head was swollen, so that it no longer looked like a human face, but presented a monstrous appearance of a monstrous animal; and the skin was stretched like a bladder, so that those who looked on were amazed that it did not burst. The tip of his nose was flattened and his eyes were buried in his face. The mouth was shut by swollen lips and he was no longer able to breathe. His relatives put a reed into his mouth, through which to breathe, lest the blocking of his airway choke his breathing.
Why say more? The anguish of the excessive pain persisted, to the point that his friends led him to the glorious tomb of the glorious martyr and archbishop Thomas,40 where he spent the night and prayed in moans as far as he could for a remedy to his suffering. At last, near dawn, he fell asleep awhile and saw in his dreams that most pious martyr himself, Archbishop Thomas, present with him, and saying: ‘Geoffrey, what do you seek here?’ And he said: ‘Lord, that you should take pity on me and cure my sickness.’ And the saint said to that: ‘Your cure is not here. But so that your coming to me should not be in vain, I give you a piece of advice. Get up and go home, have a candle made in the name of Saint William the martyr of Norwich, and then roll it round your whole head in a circle, and immediately you will receive a cure. Once you are cured, hurry to Norwich, where you will offer the candle to him, your liberator.’ At this the sick man woke up, rose, returned home and rapidly executed the things he had been ordered.
A wondrous thing and truly amazing! When he had rolled the candle round his whole head in the name of Saint William, under his throat, when it came round from the left to its end, the skin – as if pricked by an awl – cracked, and a great deal of bloody matter flowed out of it.41 What wonderful speed! The swelling immediately subsided, the pain receded and the sick man got better. And so cured, not wanting to delay the business of the pilgrimage enjoined on him, he went to the tomb of Saint Thomas, prayed, took leave and set forth on his way.
When he was some way from Canterbury, however, around the first hour, he passed through the village called Ospringe42 and, as he was travelling alone, prayed there to the Lord to favour him with a good companion on his pilgrimage. When he proceeded on a bit, and repeated the same prayer more earnestly, suddenly two men of venerable appearance and distinguished habit came upon him. One was resplendent in the whitest of clothes; the other wore the signs of the emblems of kingship. And as they approached, the white one said: ‘Greetings, brother, where do you go?’ To this Geoffrey answered: ‘Welcome, brothers, I go to Norwich.’ And he: ‘Then we should go together, since we, too, are going to those parts.’ While they were walking, Geoffrey was in the middle. And, as he later told us, he was so soothed by their words that he did not feel the effort of walking on the journey or even notice how they had crossed the River Thames.
The same day in the afternoon, at sunset, having achieved such a feat of walking, they arrived at the thorn bush that marks the third mile from Bury St Edmunds. As they stood there, the man in white said to Geoffrey: ‘So, brother, do you know where you are?’ and when Geoffrey answered that he did not, he said: ‘Look, what you see is the tower of the church of St Edmund. Go, then, in peace, and may the Lord be with you. And since this morning you had begged for a good companion, it was done just as you wished. Know then, that I am Thomas, Archbishop of Canterbury, and this other is the blessed Edmund, king and martyr. We have sent the blessed martyr William ahead to Norwich, and you will find him there.’ Having said this, they both suddenly disappeared from Geoffrey’s sight.
And so, when he came to himself, the more Geoffrey pondered what a great thing had happened, the more he was puzzled how he had reached there so quickly. While he measured the speed in his mind, he marvelled at the absence of effort. And since there was no effort, no tiredness followed. In the same way, when he remembered the sweetness of their conversation, he was saddened to be deprived of so holy a company. Giving thanks to God and to His holy martyrs, he straight away hurried to Bury43 with a quick step, entered the church, worshipped at the martyr’s tomb and was directed to the hospice.
When he woke up in the morning, perceiving clearly in himself some remainder of the speed of yesterday’s journey, he ran the remaining distance with a swift foot and reached Norwich very quickly. He went to the tomb of the holy martyr William, offered the candle of his vow with three pennies, and thanked God and the same holy martyrs, blessed Thomas and blessed Edmund, for the comfort of their delightful company, and Saint William for the benefit of restored health. Finally, to us, when we sought to find out carefully the reason for his coming, he told us the story in order and showed the mark of the swelling and the pierced skin, and returned in good health to his home county. And when I, Thomas, later came to Canterbury, I saw him hale and healthy, and I learned from many monks and laypeople, who confirmed that what I had heard and seen from him was absolutely true. Since the speed of the mentioned journey was amazing, and seemed well-nigh impossible by human powers, I was thorough and diligent in tracking down the truth. And so, what I had perceived to be true in this matter, I have put down on this page. For very many attested to it in Canterbury, that he had gone on pilgrimage from there on 15 January, and we know for sure that on 16 January he was seen at the tomb of Saint William in Norwich, and – to declare it more plainly – he moved by foot from Canterbury on one day and arrived in Norwich on the next.44
Here ends the seventh book.
Here ends the book of the miracles and the life of Saint William the martyr.
Notes
PROLOGUE
1. The prologue is a literary device developed in classical antiquity and frequently used by twelfth-century writers. In works of history and hagiography prologues address the patron to whom the work is dedicated and explain the circumstances of its composition – often in response to insistent requests by fellow monks – while also begging forgiveness for any shortcomings, such as tedious length or inelegant style. See Antonia Gransden, ‘Prologues in the Historiography of Twelfth-Century England’, in Legends, Traditions and History in Medieval England (London: Hambledon Press, 1992), pp. 125–51, and Les prologues médiévaux, ed. Jacqueline Hamesse (Turnhout: Brepols, 2000).
2. William, Bishop of Norwich: On William Turbe, see Christopher Harper-Bill, ‘Bishop William Turbe and the Diocese of Norwich, 1146–1174’, Anglo-Norman Studies 7 (1985), pp. 142–60, and English Episcopal Acta VI. Norwich 1070–1214, ed. Christopher Harper-Bill (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1990), pp. xxxiii–xxxiv.
3. we: The author moves regularly between using the first-person singular and the first-person plural.
4. Rome … Gaul … England: This may be Thomas’s way of suggesting that William was eloquent in Latin, French and English. It suggests a
n Anglo-Norman outlook, which spanned Europe in its scope.
5. your loving kindness and your kindly favour: Such stylistic play, which would be considered tedious in modern usage, is a common feature of twelfth-century Latin writing. In this case, a form of repetition known as anadiplosis.
6. White privets fall, dark hyacinths are culled: ‘alba lingustra cadunt, uaccinia nigra leguntur’. In context: ‘Ah, lovely boy, trust not too much to your bloom! The white privets fall, the dark hyacinths are culled!’, Virgil, Eclogues II, trans. H. Rushton Fairclough, revised by G. P. Goold, Loeb Classical Library 63, (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1999), line 18, pp. 32–3.
7. passion: Passio means suffering in general, but in the medieval context it is used in particular to describe the Crucifixion and the death of martyrs.
8. Keeping the king’s secret … an honourable thing: See Tobias 12:7: ‘For it is good to hide the secret of a king: but honourable to reveal and confess the works of God’; ‘etenim sacramentum regis abscondere bonum est; opera autem Dei revelare et confiteri honorificum est.’
9. what we have seen … generations to come: Thomas has in mind here 1 John 1:1–4: ‘Quod fuit ab initio, quod audivimus, quod vidimus oculis nostris, quod perspeximus, et manus nostrae contrectaverunt de verbo vitae: et vita manifestata est, et vidimus, et testamur, et annuntiamus vobis vitam aeternam, quae erat apud Patrem, et apparuit nobis: quod vidimus et audivimus, annuntiamus vobis, ut et vos societatem habeatis nobiscum, et societas nostra sit cum Patre, et cum Filio ejus Jesu Christo. Et haec scribimus vobis ut gaudeatis, et gaudium vestrum sit plenum’; ‘That which was from the beginning, which we have heard, which we have seen with our eyes, which we have looked upon and our hands have handled, of the Word of life: For the life was manifested; and we have seen and do bear witness and declare unto you the life eternal, which was with the Father, and hath appeared to us: that which we have seen and have heard, we declare unto you, that you also may have fellowship with us, and our fellowship may be with the Father and with His Son Jesus Christ. And these things we write to you, that you may rejoice and your joy may be full.’
10. render account for every word: This echoes Romans 14:12: ‘itaque unusquisque nostrum pro se rationem reddet Deo’; ‘Therefore every one of us shall render account to God for himself.’
11. The mouth … the soul: Wisdom 1:11: ‘os autem quod mentitur occidit animam’; ‘and the mouth that belieth killeth the soul’.
12. adulterate the word of God: See 2 Cor. 2:17: ‘non enim sumus sicut plurimi adulterantes verbum Dei’, ‘For we are not as many, adulterating the word of God’; and 2 Cor. 4:2: ‘neque adulterantes verbum Dei’, ‘nor adulterating the word of God’.
13. I was not removing errors, but sowing fictions: ‘Errores non auferam sed fictitia seram’; Thomas of Monmouth paraphrases Jerome’s prologue to the Book of Job in the Vetus Latina version of the Bible, ‘corrector vitiorum falsarius vocor, et errores non auferre, sed serere’, Patrologia Latina 29, ed. J.-P. Migne (Paris, 1846), col. 61. See A. Saltman, ‘Rabanus Maurus and the Pseudo-Hieronymian Quaestiones Hebraicae in Libros Regum et Paralipomenon’, Harvard Theological Review 66 (1973), pp. 43–75. Many thanks to Dr Hillel Newman for his help in identifying the reference.
14. Except I shall see I will not believe: ‘nisi uidero non credam’; see John 20:25: ‘dixerunt ergo ei alii discipuli vidimus Dominum ille autem dixit eis nisi videro in manibus eius figuram clavorum et mittam digitum meum in locum clavorum et mittam manum meam in latus eius non credam’; ‘The other disciples therefore said to him: We have seen the Lord. But he said to them: Except I shall see in his hands the print of the nails, and put my finger into the place of the nails, and put my hand into his side, I will not believe.’
15. blessed are they … and have believed: ‘beati qui non uiderunt et crediderunt’; see John 20:29: ‘beati qui non viderunt et crediderunt’; ‘blessed are they that have not seen, and have believed.’
16. and it is the tops … the lightning strikes: ‘feriuntque summos fulgura montes’; Horace, Carmina II, X:
Saepius ventis agitatur ingens
Pinus, et celsae graviore casu
Decidunt turres feriuntque summos
Fulgura montis.
The big pine is more often shaken by the winds:
The higher a tower, the heavier is the fall thereof,
And it is the tops of the mountains that the lightning strikes.
Horace was taught in schools predominantly through the Ars poetica, an introduction to the art of poetry; see, for example, Medieval Grammar and Rhetoric: Language Arts and Literary Theory, AD 300–1475, ed. Rita Copeland and Ineke Sluiter (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2009), pp. 551–8. On the appreciation of Horace in the Middle Ages, see Rita Copeland, ‘Horace’s Ars poetica in the Medieval Classroom and Beyond: The Horizons of Ancient Precept’, in Answerable Style: The Idea of the Literary in Medieval England, ed. Frank Grady and Andrew Galloway (Columbus, OH: Ohio State University Press, 2013), pp. 15–33.
17. Many wish … to learn them: ‘optima queque uideri uolunt obtrectare plerique quam discere.’ This does not appear in the corpus of either Pliny the Elder or the Younger, but the transmission of both in the Middle Ages was a messy affair. A more likely source in terms of the vocabulary is Apuleius; Thomas may have picked it up from a collection of dicta.
18. he: The reader should note that the Latin is often not specific as to gender. This translation uses ‘he’ as an arbitrary, though common, choice. Similarly, a male reader is indicated throughout, to reflect the assumptions of the period.
19. gold vessel: See 2 Tim. 2:20: ‘in magna autem domo non solum sunt vasa aurea et argentea sed et lignea et fictilia’; ‘But in a great house there are not only vessels of gold and silver, but also of wood and earth.’ ‘urna aurea’ also echoes Heb. 9:4: ‘aureum habens turibulum et arcam testamenti circumtectam ex omni parte auro in qua urna aurea habens manna et virga Aaron quae fronduerat et tabulae testamenti’; ‘Having a golden censer, and the ark of the testament covered about on every part with gold, in which was a golden pot that had manna, and the rod of Aaron, that had blossomed, and the tables of the testament.’ See also Propertius, Elegies, Book 2, 26B, ll. 49–50: ‘iam deus amplexu votum persolvit, at illi / aurea divinas urna profudit aquas’; ‘The god redeemed his pledge for that embrace, and the golden urn poured out a celestial stream’, Sex. Propertii Elegiarum liber secundus, ed. Petrus Johannes Enk (Leiden: A. W. Sijthoff, 1962), p. 110.
20. translation: The transfer of a holy body to a (more) suitable burial place.
BOOK ONE
1. The chapters of the first book begin: In the original manuscript, these chapters are arranged in a list.
2. Aimar: See The Heads of Religious Houses: England and Wales, I. 940–1216, ed. David Knowles, C. N. L. Brooke and Vera C. M. London, second edn with new material by C. N. L. Brooke (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2001), pp. 119, 268–9. St Pancras Priory, the first Cluniac house in England, was founded in 1081 by William of Warenne I and his wife Gundrada; see Freda Anderson, ‘St Pancras Priory, Lewes: Its Architectural Development to 1200’, in Anglo-Norman Studies 119 (1989), pp. 1–35; esp. pp. 1–4. Lewes Priory had substantial holdings in Norfolk, and a major dependent house in Castle Acre (Norfolk), which required management and oversight, as shown in The Norfolk Portion of the Chartulary of the Priory of St Pancras of Lewes, ed. J. H. Bullock, Norfolk Record Society 12 ([Norwich]: Norfolk Record Society, 1939).
3. mother’s dream: On such maternal dreams, see Francesco Lanzoni, ‘Il sogno presago della madre incinta nella letteratura medievale e antica’, Analecta Bollandiana 45 (1927), pp. 225–61.
4. a fragrant rose … among the thorns: ‘fecitque rosam odoriferam de spinis paulatim pullulare’; echoes Song of Songs 2:2: ‘sicut lilium inter spinas sic amica mea inter filias’; ‘As the lily among thorns, so is my love among the daughters.’
5. a male seed in the innermost of her body: On ideas about conceptio
n in the Middle Ages, see William F. MacLehose, ‘A Tender Age’: Cultural Anxieties over the Child in the Twelfth and Thirteenth Centuries (New York: Columbia University Press, 2008), paragraphs 40–61.
6. Wulward the priest: This may be Wulward of Timsworth, who was involved in a dispute with the church of St Michael [Coslany] in Norwich, according to an act by Bishop William Turbe, issued some time between 29 March 1155 and the autumn of 1163; see English Episcopal Acta VI, pp. 120–21.
7. a lux: ‘qui uulgo lucius’; lux (from the Old English laeks) is a salmon. On this scene, see also Anthony Bale, Feeling Persecuted: Christians, Jews and Images of Violence in the Middle Ages (London: Reaktion, 2010), pp. 52–3.
The Life and Passion of William of Norwich (Penguin Classics) Page 27