1
Tom Lynch
The writing down of miracle stories was both a means of recording and a means of reproducing the wonders performed by the saints. Each collection, no matter how it was consumed, demonstrated to its audience the prior glories and the future possibilities of a saint’s cult. Eadmer described some of the impetus and process behind miracle collecting in the introduction to his Miraculi S. Dunstani:
A number of things concerning the life of blessed Dunstan and his departure from life, which I learnt either from written records or from those who have handed down accounts through successive generations from his time right up to our day, I have recounted succinctly to the extent that God has deigned to permit me because of Dunstan’s intercession and merit. And so it now pleases me no less to relate concisely what deeds I have learnt either from writings, from the accounts of truthful men, or by my own sight, were brought about in proximity to his most sacred body or through the blessed memory of his holy name.1
Together with the liturgy, miracle petitions and thanksgiving, miracle stories contributed to a ‘sacred history’ of a cult centre which could then serve as the basis for further miracle making.2 In order to consider the conditions of the composition of our sources, it is useful to look at the lives and careers of the relevant hagiographers of our period, where they can be identified.3 For this we will follow a rough chronology beginning with the first miracle collections and translation accounts from Winchester.
Our earliest source is Lantfred’s Translatio et Miracula S. Swithuni, which records the miracles of Swithun and his translation at Winchester on 15 July 971. The text was composed sometime between the translation and 975.4 Lantfred was a Frankish monk and priest, associated with Fleury and resident at Winchester at the end of the tenth century.5 He was a part of a greater hagiographical scene at Winchester, under Bishop Æthelwold (963–984), who was one of the architects of the Benedictine reforms in England. Two anonymous authors composed verse hagiography about Eustace and Judoc around the same time, most probably in Winchester.6 Whilst Lantfred was working in a climate of monastic reform and was probably brought to England to help with Æthelwold’s project,7 there is little evidence of the influence of the reform movement in his work. Instead Lantfred brings his Frankish sensibilities, including an understanding of miracle collecting and its importance, to a country with many saints but few hagiographers. In a sense, this coincidence of author and place helped to reinvigorate English hagiography after the hiatus of the Viking age.8 That such an approach was endorsed by the English can be seen from the writing of Wulfstan, a monk, priest and eventually precentor of the Old Minster,9 who wrote two texts which concern us. The earliest of these compositions is the Narratio metrica de S. Swithuno written in the 990s, which closely follows Lantfred but includes additional details and an account of a second translation.10 Wulfstan appears to have been an eyewitness to many of the events he described and took part in both translations.11 Wulfstan’s other composition of note here is his Vita S. Æthelwoldi, written to accompany the Bishop’s translation in 996.12 This was undoubtedly coloured by the personal relationship between Æthelwold and his student Wulfstan, and Wulfstan seems to have been the major proponent of the Bishop’s post-mortem cult.13
Ramsey was another centre of hagiographical production around this time, though on a smaller scale than Winchester. Whilst visiting Ramsey Abbey and acting as the schoolmaster between 985 and 987, Abbo of Fleury composed his Passio S. Eadmundi at the request of his hosts.14 Drawing on local traditions regarding the killing of Edmund of East Anglia by the Danes in 869, the text focuses on positioning Edmund as a Christian king and martyr.15 Despite this focus, Abbo does describe some of the post-mortem miracles of the saint and stated that Edmund’s relics were to be found at Bury.16 The other major author active at Ramsey at this time was Byrhtferth, a student of Abbo in the monastic school.17 Relatively little is known for certain about Byrhtferth. He was probably born in the 960s, and in terms of hagiography, he composed a Passio SS. Æthelredi et Æthelberhti c. 991, a Vita S. Oswaldi around the turn of the eleventh century and a Vita S. Ecgwini between 1016 and 1020. We do not know whether Byrhtferth spent time at Evesham when he composed his life of Ecgwine, nor are the details of the author’s death known to us.18
Looming large over our evidence is Goscelin of Saint-Bertin, a prolific author who came to England before the Conquest and worked in the country for several decades, dying after 1107.19 Goscelin has had more than thirty texts assigned to him, the majority of which contain post-mortem miracles performed by the saints in question.20 Whilst some of these texts were quite short, Goscelin’s miracles of Ivo stretch to more than thirty chapters, and his miracles and translation of Augustine and the other saints of St Augustine’s Abbey includes more than fifty chapters.21 Goscelin’s reputation was recognised in medieval England, and William of Malmesbury described him as second only to Bede in his hagiographical endeavours.22 Goscelin’s texts show a great interest in circumstantial detail and are full of ‘little vignettes’ which help bring to life the cults he describes.23 Goscelin is thought to have been Flemish, and he came to England from the Benedictine community of Saint-Bertin at Saint-Omer, in the Pas de Calais. Goscelin came to England to become a part of the household of Bishop Herman, who combined his sees of Ramsbury (1045–1075) and Sherborne (1058–1075) and transferred them to Salisbury in 1075.24 Goscelin’s hagiographical career contained several stages. His earliest work was composed in the area of Wessex around Salisbury. Amongst the items that Goscelin composed at this time, the 1070s and 1080s, were his Vita S. Wlsini, Vita S. Edithe and Vita et miracula S. Kenelmi. Goscelin then seems to have moved on to Barking, where he composed the Vita et uirtutes S. Vulfhilde and De translatione uel eleuatione SS. Uirginum Ethelburge, Hildelithe ac Wlfhilde, along with other texts about the saints of Barking around the time of their translation in 1086. During this period, Goscelin also penned a Vita et Miracula S. Yuonis for Abbot Herbert of Ramsey (1087–1091). Goscelin produced hagiography on the saints of Ely around this time as well, including the Vita S. Werburge and Vita S. Wihtburge, although the latter was completed after the 1106 translation. During the 1090s, Goscelin was probably resident at Canterbury, where he produced several texts including his De Adventu, Translatione et Virtutibus S. Adriani, Translatio et miracula S. Mildrethe, Historia maior de miraculis S. Augustini and Historia translationis S. Augustini et aliorum sanctorum. Following this Goscelin went to East Anglia and rewrote the Miracula S. Edmundi, which had been written previously by Herman, archdeacon of Bury and erstwhile associate of Bishop Herfast of Elmham and Thetford (1070–1084/5).25
Roughly contemporary with Goscelin were the two hagiographers of Christ Church, Canterbury, Osbern and Eadmer. Both of them were brought up and educated in the Benedictine community at Christ Church with Osbern, the senior of the two, dying around 1095 and Eadmer dying after 1128.26 Osbern spent some time at Bec as a young man27 and went on to become precentor and subprior at Christ Church. His surviving hagiographical works are the Vita et translatio S. Aelphegi and the Vita et miracula S. Dunstani. Osbern composed his text on Archbishop Ælfheah (1006–1012) shortly after the doubts raised over the saint’s sanctity in 1079. Ælfheah had been killed by the Danes in 1012 and his translation from London to Canterbury occurred in 1023.28 Osbern wrote about Dunstan, his place in the history of Canterbury and his post-mortem miracles in the 1080s, using the work of Adelard and the author known as ‘B’ as well as the traditions of Christ Church.29 Eadmer was an associate of Archbishop Anselm (1093–1109) and was elected Bishop of St Andrews in 1120, although he was never consecrated. Eadmer’s reworking of Osbern’s collection of Dunstan’s miracles demoted Archbishop Lanfranc (1070–1089) from a quasi-saint to an admirable archbishop and removed Osbern himself from the narrative.30 Eadmer composed his Vita et miracula S. Dunstani between 1105 and 1109, and his other major hagiography appropriate for our purposes, the Vita et miracula S. Oswaldi archiepiscopi and the Vita S. Anselmi, were written before 1100.31
During the first half of the twelfth century, there were numerous named authors about whom we know relatively little. Arcoid, who wrote a miracle collection on Erkenwald in the early 1140s, was a canon of St Paul’s and nephew of Bishop Gilbert of London (1128–1134).32 Slightly earlier than this, William Ketell, a cleric of Beverley Minster, wrote his Miracula S. Johannis.33 Abbot Geoffrey of Burton (1114–1151) wrote of the life and miracles of Modwenna whilst he was in office.34 Another Abbot, Robert of Shrewsbury (c. 1140–1168), composed his Vita et translatio S. Wenefrede based on an earlier Welsh model combined with an account of the 1138 translation of the saint from Gwytherin to Shrews-bury.35 Dominic of Evesham was Prior of Evesham and completed his Miracula S. Ecgwini after the death of Abbot Walter of Evesham (1077–1104).36
Three later figures can be examined in a little more detail – Osbert of Clare, William of Malmesbury and Aelred of Rievaulx. Osbert of Clare was a monk and Prior of Westminster who wrote a Vita S. Edwardi confessoris, which he finished in 1138. At the time of composition, Edward the Confessor’s (1042–1066) cult was not well established, but on the back of Osbert’s work, a first petition for canonisation was made to Rome.37 Osbert also rewrote some of the miracles of Edmund and wrote lives of Æthelberht and Eadburh,38 but his contribution to the canonisation of Edward the Confessor and the textual tradition about the saint is most pertinent here. William of Malmesbury was a monk at Malmesbury Abbey from his youth and an author of great industry, whose most prolific period was between 1124 and 1137. Amongst his compositions during this time were lives of Patrick, Dunstan, Indract and Benignus and a compilation of the miracles of the Virgin Mary.39 Other texts concerning the cult of the saints include his Gesta Pontificum Anglorum and the lives of Bishop Aldhelm of Sherborne (706–709/10) and Bishop Wulfstan of Worcester (1062–1095).40 Finally, Aelred of Rievaulx was a Cistercian who was likely raised at Hexham, went on to spend his youth in the Scottish court and entered the new foundation at Rievaulx, Yorkshire, around 1134. He became the first Abbot of Revesby, a daughter house of Rievaulx, in 1143 and returned to Rievaulx to become abbot there in 1147. He took a part in the politics of his day and died in 1167. Aelred was asked by the canons of Hexham to produce a work on their saints after the translation of 1155, which resulted in the De sanctis ecclesiae Hagustaldensis. He was also asked by Abbot Lawrence of Westminster (1158–1173), a relative of Aelred, to compose another life of Edward the Confessor which would update and improve Osbert’s attempt.41
Not all texts from our period have a named author, whether they were noted in the manuscripts or assigned at a later date. The context for their composition appears to be similar, however. Our primary sources were written by male religious who were either members of the community in possession of the saint’s relics, were commissioned to work for the community or were otherwise inspired to write down the saints miracles.42 All of our named authors were Benedictines, with the exception of Arcoid, who was a secular canon, and Aelred, who was a Cistercian monk. Likewise, the majority of communities which housed the saints and commissioned this hagiography were Benedictine, mainly male monastic communities and cathedral priories but including nunneries like Wilton and Barking.43 The only notable exceptions were the Augustinian canons of Hexham, the secular canons of St Paul’s and Beverley and the Cluniacs of Much Wenlock.
In the accounts of post-mortem miracles, it is not uncommon for the author to appear in the narrative. In our earliest source, Lantfred is a central player in one of the miracles of Swithun. Having travelled to France, Lantfred was asked to help the sick wife of a friend, and he suggested that Swithun, who had been performing many miracles among the English, could help. Lantfred suggested ordering a candle to be made and burning it in a local church whilst the woman’s husband prayed to Swithun. Lantfred had inscribed a prayer to Swithun on the candle, asking for the saint’s help in this case. The woman was cured, and she gave thanks to God.44 Wulfstan enters his narrative of the translations of Swithun as a young witness to the events, and he claimed to have personally seen more than two hundred miracles in the year following the first translation in 971.45 In his Vita S. Æthelwoldi, Wulfstan also presents himself as a part of the cult of the saint when he led a blind man to Æthelwold’s shrine.46 Goscelin, or perhaps an earlier author that Goscelin used as a source, was cured of gout by Ivo at Ramsey.47 In the Liber Eliensis, it is claimed that Goscelin was present at Ely when Æthelthryth performed a miracle.48 Additionally, Goscelin mentions the major source for his Edmund material, Herman. Whilst Herman was preaching at Pentecost, he had the bloody underclothes of Edmund shown to the crowd. This was done in a disorderly and disrespectful fashion, and Herman was killed by the saint for his part in it.49 Osbern claimed to have witnessed the cure of a blind girl by Dunstan, as well as claiming to have led another girl and her mother to Dunstan’s shrine so they could petition the saint.50 Eadmer features in his own writing on Anselm as the custodian of the saint’s belt. Eadmer lent this relic out to those who needed it and even cut off a portion to help ease the suffering of a knight named Humphrey.51 Eadmer claimed to have witnessed the translation of Dunstan at Canterbury too.52 Arcoid appears in his own work as host to a doctor cured by Erkenwald, who stayed at the author’s house in London.53 These examples demonstrate that the authors of our primary sources did not portray themselves as impartial observers but as a part of the cult of the saints in practice. Most often this was as witnesses or facilitators of miracles, but they took part in grand occasions and could be the subject of a saint’s intercession.
Thus, authors drew on their own experience of the cult of the saints in their miracle collections. They also drew on earlier traditions circulating at the home of the saint. This is most obvious where a miracle collection has been added to an earlier text or in the reworking of a previous collection. Wulfstan versified and added to Lantfred’s material on Swithun. Ælfric then wrote an epitome of Lantfred’s Translatio et Miracula S. Swithuni, and the anonymous author of the c. 1100 Vita et Miracula S. Swithuni depended on Lantfred, Wulfstan and Ælfric.54 Goscelin used earlier sources in the composition of his hagiography as well. He relied on Bede and perhaps a libellus of Hildelith’s miracles for his work at Barking, a lost life of Ivo by Abbot Withman of Ramsey (1016–1020) and again on Bede for much of his St Augustine’s material.55 Goscelin made use of an earlier collection of Juthwara’s miracles in his Vita S. Wlsini, an Old English account of a miracle of Edith and various writings in Latin and Old English, including a letter from Heaven, for his Vita et miracula S. Kenelmi.56 Goscelin’s other major rewriting project was the miracle collection of Edmund, working from and expanding Herman’s earlier composition.57
Whilst Osbern claimed there was no previous text on Ælfheah’s life, he tried to incorporate some written material into his Vita et translatio of the saint.58 The Dunstan material can be traced from the work of the author known as ‘B’ through Adelard, Osbern and finally Eadmer. Eadmer used Byrhtferth as the main source for his life and miracles of Oswald, as did Dominic for his miracles of Ecgwine.59 Arcoid added his miracles of Erkenwald to an existing vita, as did William Ketell with his miracles of John of Beverley.60 Geoffrey of Burton reworked an earlier Irish life of Modwenna, attributed to Conchubranus, and William depended on the Welsh Vita prima S. Wenefrede for his version.61 As well as his rewritten Edmund material, Osbert of Clare was a part of a tradition of writing about Edward the Confessor, which began with the anonymous vita, went through Osbert’s version and ended with Aelred’s text, which was the most widely circulated.62 William of Malmesbury relied on earlier texts for his hagiography too, specifically Faricius’ work on Aldhelm and a lost Old English life of Wulfstan of Worcester.63 Our authors were, therefore, not only a part of the cult of the saints but also part of a self-referential literary tradition of English hagiography. Their use of texts was not only as source material, however, and when houses competed over the patronage of a saint and the possession of their relics, they could take to writing.
The body of Alban was claimed both by the foundation at the site of his martyrdom, St Albans Abbey, and by the abbey at Ely, where the Liber Eliensis records that Alban was translated under the instruction of Archbishop Stigand (1052–1070) during his persecution by King William I (1066–1087).64 The counterclaim of St Albans was focused around a translation on 2 August 1129, the account of which includes an explanation of how Ely came to think they possessed Alban’s relics. Concerned with Danish incursions, Abbot Ælfric (c. 968–990) had walled up Alban’s relics and sent a dummy set to Ely. When the troubles were over, Ælfric requested the relics back, and the monks of Ely, wishing to keep their prize sent a second dummy corpse back to St Albans. Ælfric realised the deception but remained quiet, retrieved the genuine relics from their hiding place and replaced Alban’s shrine in the centre of the church. The Gesta Abbatum Monasterii Sancti Albani then claims that Abbot Frederick (c. 1072) fled to Ely because of the persecutions of William I but that he did not take Alban with him. The translation of 1129 was prefigured by a thorough inspection of Alban’s bones, which were all present bar a shoulder blade which had been given away by King Cnut (1016–1035). The translation narrative highlights concern over claims from both Ely and Denmark, but the St Albans version is brought to a close when, at the behest of Abbot Robert (1151–1166), three bishops with the authority of Pope Adrian IV (1154–1159) had the Ely monks confess to their duplicity.65 The first book of the Gesta Abbatum Monasterii Sancti Albani was composed by Matthew Paris approximately seventy years after the 1129 translation and around thirty-five years after the supposed enquiry, although he may have been dependent on earlier material written when these issues came to a head in the mid twelfth century.66 What remains to us is a fairly one-sided counterclaim against Ely from the perspective of St Albans.
In the eleventh century, there were also two contradictory traditions regarding Mildrith’s body, both centring on Canterbury. The regular canons of St Gregory’s and the monks of St Augustine’s both claimed to have the body of the eighth-century Abbess. The tradition at St Gregory’s was that Mildrith was translated to Lyminge from Thanet. Then, in 1085 Mildrith was translated to St Gregory’s along with the remains of Eadburg, Mildrith’s successor, who was thought to be responsible for the first translation of the saint. The tradition at St Augustine’s was that Mildrith remained at Thanet following a translation there until her remains were translated to St Augustine’s in 1030. The argument over Mildrith is recorded by Goscelin in his Libellus Contra Inanes Sanctae Virginis Mildrethae Usurpatores, from the perspective of St Augustine’s but quoting the St Gregory’s evidence.67 Goscelin wrote a vita and miracula of Mildrith as well and included her in his account of the translations at St Augustine’s in 1091, both of which confirm St Augustine’s as Mildrith’s ultimate resting place. The evidence of the tradition at St Gregory’s is limited to what can be gleaned from Goscelin’s narrative and the evidence from the cartulary of St Gregory’s, which simply claims that the relics were translated as a part of Lanfranc’s foundation of St Gregory’s.68
The body of Dunstan was claimed both by Christ Church, Canterbury and Glastonbury Abbey. Both sides agreed that Dunstan was originally buried at Canterbury, but his subsequent movements were disputed. The Glastonbury tradition claims that Dunstan’s body was originally translated to Glastonbury in 1012 under the orders of Edmund Ironside and during the upheaval related to the Danish incursions. The narrative explains that the remains were hidden for one hundred and seventy-two years following this translation for fear that the relics would be demanded back by the Archbishop of Canterbury once order had been re-established. The body of Dunstan is said to have remained hidden until the relics were rediscovered following the fire of 1184.69 Although the details of this tradition originate from a later interpolation in William of Malmesbury’s De Antiquitate Glastonie Ecclesie, there must have been a claim from earlier in the twelfth century which Eadmer of Canterbury felt he had to refute in a letter to the monks of Glastonbury. Eadmer claimed to have witnessed the translation of Dunstan at Canterbury himself along with a multitude of people and claimed it was a falsehood that Dunstan’s body was substituted for that of another by some thieving monks from Glastonbury. Eadmer also cited the lack of opportunity and the fact that a hundred years had passed since the supposed theft, yet no one had mentioned it until near the time of his composition, c. 1120. Eadmer finally asked for some written evidence of the translation to Glastonbury and prayed that the monks of Glastonbury would give up their libellous claim.70
There are other contradictory claims over translated relics, though we do not have any material containing the invective which may have been used to attack or defend them. Symeon of Durham records the translation of the remains of Oswine of Deira from Tynemouth to Jarrow, whilst the Tynemouth tradition maintains that Oswine remained there following the invention of his relics in 1065.71 Similarly the remains of King Edward the Martyr (975–978) were translated to Shaftesbury and translated there again in 1001 according to his passio, but there was a slightly later claim from Abingdon that the relics of Edward were taken there in the time of King Cnut.72 Several of the great number of relics claimed by Glastonbury were claimed elsewhere. When it came to main shrines, the account in De Antiquitate Glastonie Ecclesie records the translation of relics of Aidan and the bodies of Ceolfrith, Benedict Biscop, Eosterwine, Hwaetberht, Selfrith, Bede, Æbbe, Begu, Boisil and Hilda from Northumbria in the eighth century.73 This exodus of saints was apparently facilitated by Abbot Tyccea (754–760) under the pressure of Danish raids. Of these saints, Benedict Biscop was claimed by Thorney, Æbbe was claimed by Coldingham and the bones of Aidan, Boisil and Bede were claimed by Durham.74 A similar claim for northern saints can be found in Symeon of Durham’s libellus on the church of Durham. In Symeon’s example, the collector is named as Elfred. This collector went out to the neglected churches and monasteries of Northumbria at the behest of a vision to elevate and translate relics.75 Elfred is said to have uncovered the relics of Balthere, Billfrith, Acca, Alchmund, Oswine, Æbbe and Æthelgitha and brought back to Durham ‘a certain part of all these relics’.76 He was also supposedly responsible for the translation of the whole of Boisil and Bede’s remains to Durham from Melrose and Jarrow, respectively.77 It is difficult to know exactly what was meant by ‘a certain part’ of the relics, but in Aelred of Rievaulx’s account of the miracles of the Hexham saints, he reveals that Elfred attempted to take away a finger bone of Alchmund but was foiled by the intercession of the saint himself. Aelred notes that Eata appeared in a vision to stop his translation from Hexham to York as well.78
These conflicting stories show the importance attributed to specificity in the cult of the saints. Whilst it would be possible for God or a saint to grant a miracle when a person was mistaken, it seems that the best approach was to know who you were asking for help and where their body was interred.79 People had relationships with their saints, identified with them and did not want to find out they had been mistaken or misled. These literary debates also show that the resting places of saints were not considered folk tales or legends. Authors thought they could prove, through evidence and argument, where a saint reposed and how they came to be there. Perhaps more importantly, they thought they could convince others of this fact and therefore convince them of the location of the earthly centre of the saint’s cult. Knowing that a thaumaturgic saint rested in your community would have been of great spiritual, and potentially material, comfort. Convincing everyone else of the presence of a holy body would have been a source of personal pride. Saints were worth arguing over, and in the end, the victor could infer the saint’s consent by their continued presence in their community.
The evidence of earlier hagiography was not the only kind of source open to hagiographers. More basic shrine records could be used as well or indeed replace hagiography at a shrine which could not recruit an appropriate author. For instance the shrine to Leofwynn in Sussex, most likely in the minster at Bishopstone, contained notes detailing the miracles of the saint in English which visiting Flemish monks could not understand.80 Aside from shrine records and previous hagiography, the compilers’ main source must have been the complexes of stories surrounding the shrine. For example, after the cure of three blind women and a mute man by Swithun, the man, now able to speak, informed the sacristan about the miracle.81 So, too, the Saxon man Leodegar cried so loudly at the wonder of his cure at St Augustine’s that he attracted the sacristans and raised others from their beds. He then explained the saints’ intercession to them.82 Miracles performed away from the shrine could be collected in this manner, as was the case of Wulmar the villein, who lay sick for four days and was cured with a vision of Edmund. Upon his cure, Wulmar got out of bed, went to Edmund’s shrine, gave the saint four pieces of crystal rock and thanked God and the saint. Wulmar then told the story to the sacristan, and later he was brought in to address the monks with the story. Believing him, Abbot Baldwin (1065–1097) had a sermon preached, rang the bells and led the monks in the Te Deum.83 These stories help to emphasise the role of the sacristan not only as guardian of the relics but also as an announcer, investigator and repository of miracle stories.84
The stories told and retold at shrines could be old tales that had circulated for years or reports of more recent events. Koopmans has written extensively on the interplay between spoken and written miracle stories in medieval England. She points out that most miracle collectors relied on the ‘personal stories’ of supplicants, which had found favour with the community.85 Koopmans states that we should believe authors when they say that they had heard about many more miracles than they recorded.86 She goes on to claim that the ‘animating essence’ of the cult of the saints was this circulation of personal stories.87 Whilst I disagree slightly with this assessment, I do believe that a great deal of oral stories lie behind the hagiography and that many accounts which could have been written down have been lost to us. Major occasions like feast days would have provided many opportunities for sharing old stories about the saints and composing new ones.
The celebration of a saint’s feast could be relatively simple, relying on a calendar and common of the saints to modify a few elements of the day’s liturgy.88 At a cult centre, the observances would have been much more involved.89 Whilst supplicants would have been a common fixture at a major shrine, judging by the miracle accounts, there would be a spike in attendance on a saint’s feast. This attendance would begin on the eve of the feast and could last until the following week when the octave was celebrated. There is a rather detailed description found in the Vita Beate Sexburge Regine:
The solemn festival day of the blessed Seaxburh dawned, on which the religious common folk are joined in equal devotion with the religious of the community who attend to the rites of the church. They are all suffused with immense joy, and extol the wonderful works of the Creator in songs of praise. To the eternal glory of the noble queen, they pass in procession arrayed in festive garb. Praising God, they are dressed in tunics with gold ornament and purple border. The weakness and idleness of the human mind is far removed from their observance. Holy devotion grows, and all sides of the church resound with ringing music. The holy assemblies rejoice, and are charmed by hymns to God on all sides. They carry out the festal day with rejoicing, triumphing in the good favour of blessed Seaxburh. When at length the holy rites were completed and solemn sacrifices had been offered up to God, a solemn banquet was fitting for the brothers in their solemnity.90
Although it might be expected that the feast of a local saint would be remembered, proclamations were made to remind the people.91 Feast days provided a ‘change in the pattern of life’ for both the religious community and the surrounding laity,92 an event which would reverberate beyond the shrine and throughout the local area.93 Common additions included a procession of the saint’s relics, the wearing of ceremonial dress and the reading of lessons on the saint’s life and virtues. Such readings came both in the form of specially composed lections and excerpts from longer hagiographical works. These texts were used as part of liturgical celebrations and in the refectory to accompany the meals of the religious.94 For example, the acts of Augustine as written by Bede were read during the Mass on the saint’s feast day.95 It seems that not only were the deeds of the saints read aloud, but they were also incorporated into sermons and homilies. By the eleventh century, such liturgical elements could be performed in English,96 and the vernacular sermon could be a feature of a saint’s feast.97
Sermons and preaching about the saints are recorded in the hagiography as well. Æthelwold instructed the laity on Swithun and his miracles before the saint’s first translation in 971.98 Such sermons could be more ad hoc affairs, as is indicated by Herman’s inclusion of contemporary miracles being worked into feast day preaching at Bury. A boy, also called Edmund, was cured of warts between the eyes and sight problems. He had previously kept vigil in a church at Binham, to no avail, but he was cured in vigil at Edmund’s shrine on the eve of his feast. At daybreak the details of the miracle spread, and a sermon was incorporated into the Mass, detailing the cure. So, too, a blind girl named Lyeveva was healed on the saint’s feast by spending the night in vigil. Herman himself and Abbot Baldwin saw the girl prostrate at vespers. Lyeveva was the subject of a sermon during Mass the next day, and God was praised for the miracle. Herman also includes the story of the crippled woman Brihtgyfa. After Brihtgyfa had been cured and after the prior had been reassured by witnesses, a sermon was preached about the miracle.99 The role of the clergy could be supplanted, and the recipients of miracles could recount their experience themselves, as the little girl Amelia did at Mildburh’s shrine, presumably in English rather than Latin.100 Such personal stories helped to enliven the cult of the saints with contemporary evidence and facilitated a dialogue that was not reliant on anything beyond hearing of a miracle and talking about it.101 Thus, a feast day or other major occasion would be an opportunity to share stories of the saint, both oral and written.
Often a degree of investigation was inserted between the personal story and the hagiography. There are elements of witness testimony in Lantfred and Wulfstan with the crowds present for the wonders of Swithun and the reaction of the monastic community to the saint’s deeds.102 The sense of witness interrogation is more obvious in the late-eleventh-century anonymous collection of miracles of Swithun, particularly the final two miracles of the text. In the first of these, a pilgrim from the Isle of Wight who was blind in one eye came to Swithun on his feast day. He visited the church on the eve of the feast, and following divine guidance, he went to the statue of Swithun found before his tomb. The man kissed the statue’s feet, prayed and found himself unexpectedly healed. The day after the feast, the miracle was extensively investigated, involving the testimony of witnesses under oath. In the second story, a lame youth from an estate close to Winchester was taken to Swithun on his feast day. He was placed before Swithun’s tomb and was healed, and this, too, was confirmed by witnesses.103 Likewise, in Geoffrey of Burton’s miracles of Modwenna, five of the six detailed contemporary miracles included some investigation. In fact, the one miracle that was not investigated further – the release of a penitent from his iron bonds – occurred before witnesses present at the shrine.104 Like the arguments over the resting places of the saints, the investigation of a miracle shows a concern over accuracy. It was important, where it was possible, both to ascertain that a miracle had occurred and to correctly attribute the miracle.
When Swithun first performed miracles there was some confusion over which saint had interceded for the supplicants. There were several saints with relics in the Old Minster, Judoc in the New Minster and a tower dedicated to Martin of Tours, upon whose feast one of the miracles occurred.105 Such confusion could also potentially arise when a person was aided at multiple sites or at a place with many saints like Hexham, Ely or Canterbury.106 In general it was easy to attribute a miracle accurately, however, as the saint prayed to either provided aid or indicated where aid could be sought. But custodians seem to have thought it important to confirm that anything miraculous had occurred at all and to understand the circumstances surrounding a miracle. This allowed the community to record the incident accurately and react appropriately, and it gives us an opportunity to see how a supplicant could be embroiled in the composition of a miracle story.
Our authors were dependent on the traditions of the communities they were concerned with, including the testimony of custodians and supplicants. The process of sourcing miracle collections is discussed by Eadmer in the quote at the beginning of this chapter, particularly the desire ‘to relate concisely what deeds I have learnt either from writings, from the accounts of truthful men, or by my own sight’.107 Such an approach was endorsed by Byrhtferth, who claimed that he used both old charters and reliable witnesses for his life of Ecgwine, and Osbern, who relied on unnamed witnesses and trusted sources for his work on Ælfheah.108 We have a picture of the method of the miracle collector, but before moving on, we should consider their motivations.
Abbo and Lantfred both wrote about their saints for the edification of future generations.109 This sense of obligation is found in Osbern’s presentation of Dun-stan’s miracles as things which ought to be written down.110 Eadmer, too, felt ‘compelled to write down a few of the many’ miracles of Anselm.111 Dominic of Evesham sought to remedy the neglect of earlier authors in recording Ecgwine’s miracles.112 Likewise, William Ketell, Geoffrey of Burton, Herman and Arcoid wrote their collections with a sense of preservation against previous negligence.113 Generally our authors seem to have been concerned with creating a permanent record of events and to have been ‘distressed by the loss of stories about their saints’ miracles’.114
Other motivating factors for the creation of these miracle collections were the requests of custodians and other influential people, a desire to please these people and attempts to secure patronage. Abbo dedicated his Passio S. Eadmundi to Dunstan and wrote it in thanks to the monks of Ramsey for their hospitality, fulfilling their requests for such a text.115 Lantfred dedicated his miracles of Swithun to the monks of the Old Minster, and he was apparently encouraged by them.116 Wulfstan recreated Lantfred’s letter to the monks of the Old Minster but added a dedicatory preface to Ælfheah, then Bishop of Winchester (984–1006), which also includes praise for the late Bishop Æthelwold.117 Goscelin regularly named his patrons and dedicated his texts to specific individuals. His work on Edith was composed at the urging of Herman of Salisbury and dedicated to Archbishop Lanfranc.118 Goscelin dedicated his Vita S. Wlsini to Osmund of Salisbury (1078–1099) and stated that his collection of Edmund’s miracles was the result of a request from an anonymous prelate.119 Herman states that he was asked to compose his Liber de miraculis S. Edmundi by Abbot Baldwin of Bury.120 Eadmer wrote that anonymous friends encouraged him to write the lives of Anselm and Oswald.121 Aelred was commissioned to write his De sanctis ecclesiae Hagustaldensis by the canons of Hexham and the text was intended to be read on the feast of the translation of their saints.122 Aelred’s version of the life of Edward the Confessor was more plainly commissioned by and dedicated to Abbot Lawrence of Westminster.123
In cases of rewriting, the reviser sometimes indicates why they were undertaking this specific type of collecting. Goscelin seems to have been inspired to rewrite Herman’s miracle collection mainly on stylistic grounds.124 Eadmer, too, disapproved of Osbern’s style as well as his historical accuracy. He also took the time to remove Osbern from the narrative as a witness and a participant.125 In reworking the life and miracles of Aldhelm for his Gesta Pontificum, William of Malmesbury commented that whilst Faricius’ style was fine, there were stories he omitted and knowledge he lacked. William put this down to Faricius’ position as a foreigner who could not speak English.126 Aelred does not directly criticise his predecessors in his work on Edward the Confessor, but he updated Osbert’s style and sought to improve the historical narrative through the use of other sources.127
Our authors’ more explicit motives, then, were concerns for the preservation of miracle stories, the fulfilment of the wishes of the community, the encouragement of friends and notables, the patronage of superiors and a desire to record events with greater accuracy or in a clearer manner. We may consider the nature of their audience more generally: who was hagiography intended for and how was it intended to be used? The audience question is still debated among scholars.128 Van Egmond has identified three major ways hagiography could have been consumed in the medieval period. The first is through private reading, the second is through reading aloud to an audience and the third was through a recounting of the text by someone already familiar with it. These activities could take place anywhere and did not necessarily have to be limited to a church. Van Egmond uses the example of Alcuin’s Vita S. Willibrordi, which included a prose version intended for reading aloud in church, the metrical version for private study and the homily which was to be preached.129 Taking these three categories of consumption individually, private study of a text is the most difficult method to find evidence for. The text itself could only be accessed by a few people, and composition in Latin was obviously a bar to access for most of the laity and some religious. Even if a person had a grasp of Latin, an appreciation of the style and technique of an author would have been beyond all but the most educated.130 This would lead to an immediate audience focused on the custodians of the saint.131 Monastic and clerical readers did not limit themselves to private readings of the hagiography, however. Our second mode of consumption, reading aloud, was also used by the religious.
In monasteries and cathedral priories, a primary use of these texts would have been in the observance of the liturgy.132 The main need would have been for lections to read as part of the office of a saint. These lections could be composed specially or extracted directly from a text. For example, Lantfred’s Translatio et Miracula S. Swithuni is marked up for lections in the manuscript London, British Library, Royal 15.C.VII, whereas the lections found in Lincoln, Cathedral Library, 7 were composed separately by an author working from Lantfred’s text.133 Gos celin himself is described in the Liber Eliensis as composing liturgical material for Æthelthryth,134 and he was the author of lections for Seaxburh, Eormenhild and Hildelith and a sermon for the feast of Augustine.135 Such material could have been read aloud in the refectory or used in a monastic school as well as in the liturgy.136 There was also room for the third mode of consumption, recounting a text within a religious context. This could see the custodians of a shrine recounting the deeds of their saint, as recorded, to pilgrims and other visitors.137 As has been previously mentioned, Bede’s material on Augustine was recounted to visitors to the saint’s shrine.138 It is likely, too, that miracle stories were recounted at court and other noble settings.139 Our closest instance in the hagiography comes from Geoffrey’s miracles of Modwenna, when the Abbot describes the healing of a man who had swallowed a brooch. The man was later brought before Queen Matilda (1100–1118), Henry I’s first wife, by Geoffrey, who then told the Queen of other miracles of Modwenna.140 Such retelling can be linked to the recounting of miracles by their recipients mentioned previously.
If we include these three modes of consumption, the audience of hagiography was a multifaceted community made up of slightly overlapping groups. Each individual could take more or less from the hagiography based on their training and inclinations. As Geary has pointed out, all hagiography was ‘occasional literature’ composed in response to a ‘specific need’.141 It could subsequently be mobilised in all manner of endeavours: in the liturgy, as an object of study, as a source of stories or even in a petition itself.142 It is possible that saints were meant to be exemplars and that miracle stories were meant to be didactic. Certainly the punitive miracles demonstrated the potential consequences of the saints’ power much more clearly than the beneficent ones.143 But who was the hagiographer trying to teach a lesson to, if anyone, when they wrote down miracle stories? The people who would have got the full force of the stories, the rhetoric and the references would have been those who could examine the text directly – that is, the religious custodians of a saint and members of houses with a copy of the text in question. This is not to say that the second-hand audience was blind to the lessons of a text, but hagiography was not necessary for a supplicant to engage in a petition. A lay-person would likely focus on the role of the saint as ‘a healer and fixer’ over the details of holy lives or the moralising of a text.144
The community of a saint did not need to be told of the saint’s greatness and power – they had first-hand experience of it – but stories could help to reinforce the reputation of a saint, particularly with newcomers. Hagiography allowed the community of a saint to tell the stories it wanted to about itself,145 leaving a written record which could help to authenticate the local cult. Hagiography could tell other communities more about your saint, but first they had to have heard of your saint or otherwise have had the text forced upon them.146 Hagiography could also be used to try and influence the dealings of the aristocracy and royalty with your foundation. But at its most foundational level, hagiography was about collecting the deeds of the saints for posterity and the glory of God.147 Its first audience was the community of the saint, both the custodians directly and the other members through recitation, who were a ‘collection of experts’ on the saint and their miracles. This audience of experts would have been considered at all stages of composition and acted as ‘resource, censor, critic and arbiter’ for the hagiographer.148
With these and doubtless other motivations in mind, the miracle collectors took experiences, memories and interpretations and produced a record of the shrine’s ‘official discourse’.149 We rely on this official discourse as evidence, but it was also a part of how custodians tried to control the cult of their saint and the interpretations of them.150 These attempts at control were sometimes contested, as in the debates over saints’ resting places, and unintended information is included in much of the hagiography.151 We have texts about local interests and events, with universalising characteristics and populated with characters, named and unnamed, who had encounters with the saints which resulted in miracles. The behaviour of these miracle seekers is our primary concern, but before we examine their petitions, we have to consider the shrines of the saints. For the majority of miracle making, the shrine played a crucial role as the domain of the saint and their custodians and as a site of pilgrimage.
Notes
· 1 ‘Nonnulla quae de uita beati Dunstani uitaeque decessu aut scripto, aut ab iis qui ab eius tempore usque ad nos per successus aetatum fluxere accepimus, in quantum Deus, illius interuenientibus meritis, concedere dignatus est, succincte digessimus. Nichilo igitur minus succincte digerere placuit quae uel ad sacratissimum corpus eius, uel ad beatam memoriam beati nominis eius partim scripto, partim ueracium uiuorum relatu, partim proprio uisu gesta didicimus.’ Eadmer, Miracula S. Dunstani, pp. 160–1.
· 2 Christian, Local Religion, p. 3.
· 3 This will not be an exhaustive examination of hagiographical production in our period, nor will it contain complete career information and lists of works for each individual. For a more comprehensive overview, see Lapidge and Love, pp. 216–68; J. E. Cross, ‘English Vernacular Saints’ Lives before 1000 A.D.’, in Hagiographies, ed. by G. Philippart and M. Goullet (Turnhout: Brepols, 1994–2018), II, 413–28; E. Gordon Whatley, ‘Late Old English Hagiography, ca. 950–1150’, in Hagiographies, ed. by G. Philippart and M. Goullet (Turnhout: Brepols, 1994–2018), II, 429–500; M. Thiry-Stassin, ‘L’hagiographie en Anglo-Normand’, in Hagiographies, ed. by G. Philippart and M. Goullet (Turnhout: Brepols, 1994–2018), I, 407–28.
· 4 Lantfred, Miracula S. Swithuni, pp. 235–7.
· 5 Koopmans, p. 49.
· 6 Lapidge and Love, pp. 217–18.
· 7 Michael Lapidge and others, The Cult of St Swithun, Winchester Studies, 4.II (Oxford: Clarendon, 2003), pp. 223–4.
· 8 Koopmans, p. 50.
· 9 Lapidge and Love, p. 219.
· 10 Lapidge, Swithun, p. 335.
· 11 Wulfstan, Narratio de S. Swithuno, pp. 452–61, 492–7.
· 12 Lapidge and Love, p. 219.
· 13 Wulfstan, Vita S. Æthelwoldi, p. 99.
· 14 Carl Phelpstead, ‘King, Martyr and Virgin: Imitatio Christi in Ælfric’s Life of St Edmund’, in St Edmund, King and Martyr: Changing Images of a Medieval Saint, ed. by Anthony Bale (Woodbridge: York Medieval Press, 2009), pp. 27–44 (pp. 30–1).
· 15 Lapidge and Love, pp. 220–1.
· 16 Abbo, Passio S. Eadmundi, pp. 82–3.
· 17 Lapidge and Love, pp. 220–2.
· 18 Byrhtferth of Ramsey, The Lives of St Oswald and St Ecgwine, ed. and trans. by Michael Lapidge (Oxford: Clarendon, 2009), pp. xxviii–xxx.
· 19 Koopmans, pp. 60–3.
· 20 Lapidge and Love, pp. 225–33; Koopmans, pp. 60–1.
· 21 Koopmans, p. 61.
· 22 William of Malmesbury, Gesta Regum Anglorum, ed. and trans. by R. Mynors, and others, 2 vols (Oxford: Clarendon, 1998–1999), I, 592–93 (IV.342).
· 23 Rosalind C. Love, trans., ‘The Life of St Wulfsige of Sherborne by Goscelin of Saint-Bertin’, in St Wulfsige and Sherborne: Essays to Celebrate the Millennium of the Benedictine Abbey, 998–1998, ed. K. Barker, and others (Oxford: Oxbow, 2005), pp. 98–123 (p. 101).
· 24 Koopmans, pp. 60–3.
· 25 Lapidge and Love, pp. 225–33; Koopmans, pp. 60–4; Herman the Archdeacon and Goscelin of Saint-Bertin, The Miracles of St Edmund, ed. and trans. by Tom Licence with Lynda Lockyer (Oxford: Clarendon, 2014), pp. xxxvi–liv and cxiv–cxvi.
· 26 Lapidge and Love, p. 237.
· 27 Koopmans, pp. 81–2.
· 28 See chapter II.
· 29 Lapidge and Love, pp. 238–9.
· 30 Koopmans, pp. 92–4.
· 31 Lapidge and Love, pp. 240–1.
· 32 Ibid., p. 247.
· 33 Susan E. Wilson, The Life and Afterlife of John of Beverley: The Evolution of the Cult of an Anglo-Saxon Saint (Aldershot: Ashgate, 2006), pp. 9–10.
· 34 Lapidge and Love, p. 252.
· 35 Ibid., p. 260.
· 36 Ibid., pp. 242–3.
· 37 Koopmans, pp. 98–9.
· 38 Lapidge and Love, pp. 257–8.
· 39 Rodney M. Thomson, William of Malmesbury, rev. edn (Woodbridge: Boydell, 2003), pp. 3–7.
· 40 Lapidge and Love, pp. 258–60.
· 41 Ibid., pp. 260–1.
· 42 Whilst none of our named authors were female, it is possible that the author of the Passio S. Edwardi regis et martyris was a nun of Shaftesbury Abbey. See Koopmans, p. 80; Paul Antony Hayward, ‘Translation-Narratives in Post-Conquest Hagiography and English Resistance to the Norman Conquest’, Anglo-Norman Studies, 21 (1999), 67–93 (pp. 85–6). See also Paul Antony Hayward, ed., ‘The Miracula Inventionis Beate Mylburge Virginis Attributed to the Lord Ato, Cardinal Bishop of Ostia’, English Historical Review, 114 (1999), 543–73, pp. 548–50 on the potential Cluniac identity of the author of the miracles of Mildburh.
· 43 Barking began life as a double house but was refounded as a women’s community following the Viking incursions. See Donna Alfano Bussell and Jennifer N. Brown, ‘Introduction: Barking’s Lives, the Abbey and its Abbesses’, in Barking Abbey and Medieval Literary Culture: Authorship and Authority in a Female Community, ed. by Jennifer N. Brown and Donna Alfano Bussell (Woodbridge: Boydell, 2012), pp. 1–30 (p. 3).
· 44 Lantfred, Miracula S. Swithuni, pp. 320–3.
· 45 Wulfstan, Narratio de S. Swithuno, pp. 455–6, 495–6, 568–9.
· 46 Wulfstan, Vita S. Æthelwoldi, pp. 64–7.
· 47 Goscelin, Miracula S. Yuonis, p. lxiii.
· 48 Liber Eliensis, pp. 213–16.
· 49 Goscelin, Miracula S. Edmundi, pp. 278–99.
· 50 Osbern, Miracula S. Dunstani, pp. 136–9.
· 51 Eadmer, Vita S. Anselmi, pp. 159–65.
· 52 William Stubbs, ed., The Memorials of St Dunstan, Rolls Series, 63 (London: Long-man, 1874), pp. 412–22.
· 53 Arcoid, Miracula S. Erkenwaldi, pp. 144–7.
· 54 Lapidge and Love, pp. 217–20, 234–5.
· 55 Ibid., pp. 229–32.
· 56 Koopmans, pp. 66–7.
· 57 Licence, Edmund, pp. cxiv–cxvi.
· 58 Osbern, Vita et translatio S. Aelphegi, in Patrologia Latina, 149, col. 375–76.
· 59 Lapidge and Love, pp. 222–3, 237–42.
· 60 Ibid., pp. 247–8.
· 61 Richard Sharpe, Medieval Irish Saints’ Lives: An Introduction to Vitae Sanctorum Hiberniae (Oxford: Clarendon, 1991), pp. 25–6; Lapidge and Love, p. 260.
· 62 Lapidge and Love, pp. 257–61.
· 63 Ibid., p. 259.
· 64 Liber Eliensis, pp. 176–7.
· 65 Gesta Abbatum Monasterii Sancti Albani a Thoma Walsingham, Regnante Ricardo Secundo, ed. by Henry Thomas Riley, Rolls Series, 28, 3 vols (London: Longman, 1867–1869), I, 33–8, 51, 85–8, 175–7.
· 66 Mark Hagger, ‘The Gesta Abbatum Monasterii Sancti Albani: Litigation and History at St Alban’s’, Historical Review, 81 (2008), 373–98 (pp. 382–4).
· 67 Marvin L. Colker, ed., ‘A Hagiographic Polemic’, Mediaeval Studies, 39 (1977), 60–108.
· 68 Audrey M. Woodcock, ed., The Cartulary of the Priory of St Gregory, Canterbury, Camden Third Series, 88 (London: Royal Historical Society, 1956), p. 1.
· 69 The Early History of Glastonbury: An Edition, Translation and Study of William of Malmesbury’s De Antiquitate Glastonie Ecclesie, ed. and trans. by John Scott (Wood-bridge: Boydell, 1981), pp. 72–9.
· 70 Stubbs, St Dunstan, pp. 412–22.
· 71 Symeon of Durham, Libellus De Exordio Atque Procursu Istius, Hoc Est Dunhelmensis, Ecclesie, ed. and trans. by David Rollason (Oxford: Clarendon, 2000), pp. 234–5. The invention of Oswine at Tynemouth is described in his anonymous vita, as is a later 1110 translation at Tynemouth itself. See Miracula S. Oswini, pp. 11–17, 24–5.
· 72 Passio S. Edwardi, pp. 10, 12–13. There is a manuscript of Edward’s passio from Abingdon, but it does not mention any of the translations. See Christine E. Fell, ed., Edward, King and Martyr (Leeds: University of Leeds, 1971), p. vi. The Abingdon claim is in John Hudson, ed. and trans., Historia Ecclesie Abbendonensis, 2 vols (Oxford: Clarendon, 2002–2007), I, 182–3, 358–9.
· 73 De Antiquitate, pp. 68–9.
· 74 On Benedict, see William of Malmesbury, Gesta Pontificum Anglorum, ed. and trans. by M. Winterbottom, 2 vols (Oxford: Clarendon, 2007), I, 496–7 (iv.186); Walter de Gray Birch, ed., Liber Vitae: Register and Martyrology of New Minster and Hyde Abbey (London: Simpkin, 1892), p. 289. On Æbbe, see Robert Bartlett, ed. and trans., The Miracles of St Æbbe of Coldingham and St Margaret of Scotland (Oxford: Clarendon, 2003), pp. 20–7. On Boisil and Bede, see Symeon, Libellus, pp. 164–7. On Aidan, see Symeon of Durham, Historia Regum, in Symeonis Monachi Opera Omnia, ed. by Thomas Arnold, Rolls Series, 75, 2 vols (London: Longman, 1882–1885), I, 252–3.
· 75 Symeon, Libellus, pp. 162–3.
· 76 ‘De quorum omnium reliquiis aliquam secum partem’, Symeon, Libellus, pp. 164–5.
· 77 Symeon, Libellus, pp. 164–7.
· 78 Aelred, De sanctis Hagustaldensis, pp. 195–9, 202–3.
· 79 This point is also borne out by the relic and resting place lists. See for example David Rollason, ‘List of Saints Resting-Places in Anglo-Saxon England’, Anglo-Saxon England, 7 (1978), 61–93. Hugh Candidus contains a later relic and resting place list in his twelfth-century chronicle, The Chronicle of Hugh Candidus, a Monk of Peterborough with La Geste De Burch, ed. by W. T. Mellows and Alexander Bell (London: Oxford University Press, 1949), pp. 52–64.
· 80 John Blair, ‘A Saint for Every Minster? Local Cults in Anglo-Saxon England’, in Local Saints and Local Churches, ed. by Alan Thacker and Richard Sharpe (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2002), pp. 455–94 (p. 479). See also John Blair, ‘A Handlist of Anglo-Saxon Saints’, in Local Saints and Local Churches, ed. by Alan Thacker and Richard Sharpe (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2002), pp. 495–565 (p. 543).
· 81 Lantfred, Miracula S. Swithuni, pp. 288–9.
· 82 Goscelin, Miraculis S. Augustini, p. 398.
· 83 Herman, Miracula S. Edmundi, pp. 104–9.
· 84 On the sacristan as a guardian of relics, see Herman, Miracula S. Edmundi, pp. 28–39, 346–9; William of Malmesbury, Gesta Pontificum, I, pp. 642–3 (V.270); Goscelin, Vita S. Ethelburge, pp. 415. On the sacristan as a source of knowledge of their saint, see Herman, Miracula S. Edmundi, pp. 58–9; Lantfred, Miracula S. Swithuni, pp. 330–1. For more on the role of the sacristan, see chapter V.
· 85 Koopmans, p. 18.
· 86 Ibid., p. 14. For examples of authors claiming they could have included more miracles in their collection, see Osbern, Miracula S. Dunstani, p. 160; Eadmer, Miracula S. Dunstani, pp. 208–11; Geoffrey, Miracula S. Modwenne, pp. 214–25.
· 87 Koopmans, p. 25.
· 88 See Appendix I for the ubiquity of the common of the saints and on the liturgical celebration of a feast day more generally.
· 89 For example, at Winchcombe Abbey, by the 1170s there was a full Mass-set for Kenelm, with an extra prayer for vespers as well as a mention of the saint in the Mass in honour of the abbey’s relics. The office material for Kenelm included a full twelve lessons, which were drawn from the eleventh-century Vita of the saint, as well as the collects, chapters, psalms and other chants required to celebrate the office on the saint’s feast day. See Anselme Davril, ed., The Winchcombe Sacramentary, Henry Bradshaw Society, 109 (London: Boydell, 1995), p. 170; Richard W. Pfaff, The Liturgy in Medieval England: A History (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2009), p. 175; Victor Leroquais, Les Bréviaires Manuscrits des Bibliothèques Publiques de France, 6 vols (Paris: Leroquais, 1934), IV, 283–5; Rosalind C. Love, ed. and trans., Three Eleventh-Century Saints’ Lives: Vita S. Birini, Vita et Miracula S. Kenelmi, and Vita S. Rumwoldi (Oxford: Clarendon, 1996), pp. 130–4.
· 90 ‘Solennis beate Sexburge dies natalis illuxit quo ecclesiasticis intendentes officiis religiosos conuentus plebs religiosa pari deuotione comitatur. Immensa uniuersi perfunduntur letitia, et canoris laudibus mirabilia conditoris attollunt. Pro eterna gloria regine insignis festiuo ornatu gradiuntur amicti. Toga deaurata et pretexta purpurea Deum laudantes induuntur. Languor et desidia mentis humane ab eorum officio penitus remouetur. Crescit pia deuotio, et tinnula modulatione latera sonant ecclesie. Gaudent sancta collegia, et ymnis hinc inde mulcentur diuinis. Festiuum cum tripudio diem deducunt, in beate Sexburge fauore triumphantes. Expletis demum sacris et solennibus Deo sacrificiis immolatis, solennes fratres solenne decebat conuiuium.’ Vita Sexburge, pp. 184–5.
· 91 Arcoid, Miracula S. Erkenwaldi, pp. 108–9. See also the anger of the locals when a priest refused to proclaim the upcoming feasts of Wihtburh and Seaxburh at Ely, Liber Eliensis, pp. 370–1.
· 92 David d’Avray, ‘Popular and Elite Religion: Feastdays and Preaching’, in Elite and Popular Religion, ed. by Kate Cooper and Jeremy Gregory, Studies in Church History, 42 (Woodbridge: Boydell, 2006), pp. 162–79 (p. 179).
· 93 Ben Nilson, Cathedral Shrines of Medieval England (Woodbridge: Boydell, 1998), pp. 92–3.
· 94 Thomas Head, Hagiography and the Cult of the Saints: the Diocese of Orléans, 800–1200, Cambridge Studies in Medieval Life and Thought: Fourth Series, 14 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1990), pp. 121–5.
· 95 Goscelin, Translationis S. Augustini, pp. 423–4.
· 96 M. T. Clanchy, From Memory to Written Record: England 1066–1307, 2nd edn (Oxford: Blackwell, 1993), p. 237.
· 97 Head, p. 132.
· 98 Wulfstan, Narratio de S. Swithuno, pp. 452–3.
· 99 Herman, Miracula S. Edmundi, pp. 98–109, 122–5, 340–2.
· 100 Miracula S. Mylburge, pp. 568–70.
· 101 Koopmans, p. 25.
· 102 Lantfred, Miracula S. Swithuni, pp. 292–307; Wulfstan, Narratio de S. Swithuno, pp. 462–3.
· 103 Miracula S. Swithuni, pp. 692–7.
· 104 Geoffrey, Miracula S. Modwenne, pp. 164–219.
· 105 Lantfred, Miracula S. Swithuni, pp. 266–87.
· 106 For example Byrhtferth, Vita S. Ecgwini, pp. 280–7; Goscelin, Miracula S. Yuonis, pp. lxvii–lxix; Goscelin, Vita S. Wlsini, pp. 84–5. On praying to the many saints of Hexham, Ely and Canterbury and their intercession, see Aelred, De sanctis Hagustaldensis, pp. 177–81; Liber Eliensis, pp. 212–13; Goscelin, Miraculis S. Augustini, pp. 397–8; Goscelin, Translationis S. Augustini, pp. 435–42.
· 107 ‘partim scripto, partim ueracium uirorum relatu, partim proprio uisu gesta didcimus.’ Eadmer, Miracula S. Dunstani, pp. 160–1.
· 108 Byrhtferth, Vita S. Ecgwini, pp. 208–9; Osbern, Vita et translatio S. Aelphegi, in Patrologia Latina, 149, col. 375–76.
· 109 Abbo, Passio S. Eadmundi, pp. 67–9; Lantfred, Miracula S. Swithuni, pp. 252–3.
· 110 Osbern, Miracula S. Dunstani, pp. 129–30.
· 111 Eadmer, Vita S. Anselmi, p. 152. See also Eadmer’s motivation to write about Dunstan due to his miracle working and worthiness, Eadmer, Miracula S. Dunstani, pp. 160–1.
· 112 Dominic, Miracula S. Ecgwini, pp. 76–7.
· 113 William Ketell, Miracula S. Johannis, pp. 261–2; Geoffrey, Miracula S. Modwenne, pp. 180–1; Herman, Miracula S. Edmundi, pp. 2–3; Arcoid, Miracula S. Erkenwaldi, pp. 102–3.
· 114 Koopmans, p. 98.
· 115 Abbo, Passio S. Eadmundi, pp. 67–9.
· 116 Lantfred, Miracula S. Swithuni, pp. 252–5.
· 117 Wulfstan, Narratio de S. Swithuno, pp. 372–401.
· 118 Goscelin, Vita S. Edithe, pp. 5–6.
· 119 Goscelin, Vita S. Wlsini, pp. 68–9; Goscelin, Miracula S. Edmundi, pp. 130–1. The anonymous prelate was probably Herbert of East Anglia (1094–1119). See Licence, Edmund, pp. cxv–cxvi.
· 120 Herman, Miracula S. Edmundi, pp. 2–3.
· 121 Eadmer, Vita S. Anselmi, p. 1; Eadmer, Miracula S. Oswaldi, pp. 216–17.
· 122 Aelred, De sanctis Hagustaldensis, pp. 173–6.
· 123 Aelred of Rievaulx, Vita Sancti Edwardi confessoris, in Patrologia Latina, 196, col. 737–40.
· 124 Licence, Edmund, p. cx.
· 125 Eadmer, Miracula S. Dunstani, pp. 44–5; Eadmer of Canterbury, Lives and Miracles of Saints Oda, Dunstan, and Oswald, ed. and trans. by Andrew J. Turner and Bernard J. Muir (Oxford: Clarendon, 2006), p. lxxvii.
· 126 William of Malmesbury, Gesta Pontificum, I, pp. 498–501 (V.prol).
· 127 Lapidge and Love, p. 261; Frank Barlow, Edward the Confessor (London: Eyre & Spottiswoode, 1970), p. 281.
· 128 On this debate see Anne E. Bailey, ‘The Rich and the Poor, the Lesser and the Great’, Cultural and Social History, 11 (2014), 9–29 (p. 11).
· 129 Wolfert S. van Egmond, ‘The Audience of Early Medieval Hagiographical Texts’, in New Approaches to Medieval Communication, ed. by Marco Mostert, Utrecht Studies in Medieval Literacy, 1 (Turnhout: Brepols, 1999), pp. 41–67 (pp. 42–3).
· 130 Hayward, ‘Demystifying’, p. 128.
· 131 Koopmans, pp. 133–4.
· 132 John Reuben Davies, ‘Cathedrals and the Cult of Saints in Eleventh and Twelfth Century Wales’, in Cathedrals, Communities and Conflict in the Anglo-Norman World, ed. by Paul Dalton, and others, Studies in the History of Medieval Religion, 38 (Wood-bridge: Boydell, 2011), pp. 99–115 (p. 114).
· 133 Lapidge, Swithun, pp. 104–5. For more on the use of lections see Appendix I.
· 134 This text is now lost. See Liber Eliensis, p. 215.
· 135 Lapidge and Love, pp. 228–9, 232. On Goscelin as liturgist see Richard Sharpe, ‘Words and Music by Goscelin of Canterbury’, Early Music, 19 (1991), 94–7; Shannon Ambrose, ‘The Social Context and Political Complexities of Goscelin’s Sermon for the Feast of Saint Augustine of Canterbury, the “Apostle of the English”’, Studies in Philology, 109 (2012), 364–80.
· 136 Egmond, p. 50.
· 137 Bailey, ‘Rich and Poor’, p. 11.
· 138 Goscelin, Translationis S. Augustini, pp. 423–4.
· 139 Yarrow, p. 21; Hayward, ‘Demystifying’, p. 128.
· 140 Geoffrey, Miracula S. Modwenne, pp. 202–5.
· 141 Geary, Living with the Dead, pp. 20–3.
· 142 See the miraculous application of a book of Oswine’s passion in a miracle petition, Miracula S. Oswini, pp. 46–7.
· 143 Gábor Klaniczay, ‘Healing with Certain Conditions: The Pedagogy of Medieval Miracles’, Cahiers de Recherches Médiévales et Humanistes, 19 (2010), 237–48 (pp. 241–2).
· 144 Kleinberg, pp. 191–3.
· 145 Davies, p. 114.
· 146 Goscelin composed abbreviations of his work on the saints of Barking and St Augustine’s. The St Augustine’s works, at least, were composed for visitors to the abbey and for use beyond St Augustine’s. See Lapidge and Love, pp. 229–32. Ælfric also provided epitomes of the Winchester texts Lantfred’s Translatio et Miracula S. Swithuni and Wulfstan’s Vita S. Æthelwoldi, Lapidge and Love, p. 220. Conversely, Goscelin appears to have considered some of his compositions as intended for use by a saint’s custodians specifically. In the preface to his Vita S. Mildrethe, Goscelin refers to the domestici whom he has prepared the text for, Goscelin, Vita S. Mildrethe, p. 109.
· 147 Geary, Living with the Dead, p. 22; Koopmans, pp. 97–9, 109–11.
· 148 Heffernan, p. 20.
· 149 John Eade, ‘Order and Power at Lourdes: Lay Helpers and the Organisation of a Pilgrimage Shrine’, in Contesting the Sacred: The Anthropology of Christian Pilgrimage, ed. by John Eade and Michael J. Sallnow (London: Routledge, 1991), pp. 51–76 (pp. 73–5).
· 150 Anne E. Bailey, ‘Modern and Medieval Approaches to Pilgrimage, Gender and Sacred Space’, History and Anthropology, 24 (2013), 493–512, pp. 497–9.
· 151 Gurevich, p. xix. For contests between and within communities of the saints, see chapter II.