“But now I shewe you playnly my true mynde,
My purpose was never maryed for to be;
A lorde I have chosen, Redeemer of Mankynde
Jhesu the Second Persone in Trynyte
To be my Spouse.”
The suit of Warbode, a powerful knight and chief steward in her
father’s household, was attended with disastrous results. He had
gained an evil influence over King Wulfhere, and induced him, if not
to become an actual apostate, to adopt a distinctly hostile attitude
to Christianity. When his suit, though favoured by his master, is
declined by St. Werburgh, he retires in wrath and plots revenge. He
poisons the King’s mind, and persuades him that his sons Wulfade and
Ruffyn are plotting against him, leads him into the forest, where they
are found in St. Chad’s cell being instructed by the good Bishop in
the Christian faith; and then in his blind rage the King slays them
both, and rushes back to his castle. No sooner did he return than he
was seized with sore pains, the mark of God’s vengeance. Stung with
remorse, he repented of his apostasy; repaired to St. Chad; professed
his contrition; promised to destroy all idols and temples in his realm
and to build monasteries; and founded the Abbey of Peterborough and a
priory at Stone--
“To the honour of God, and these martyrs twayne.”
And now St. Werburgh begs her father to be allowed to become “a
religious,” and to enter the Abbey of Ely, where her great-aunt, St.
Etheldreda (or Awdry) was the Abbess. Wulfhere is reluctant and slow
to consent, but at length he yields; and, when the matter was once
settled, does his part nobly.
After her year of probation, St. Werburgh made her holy profession with
great solemnity, and her biographer holds her up to the women of his
day as an example of virtue and humility.
On the death of Wulfhere, his widow, Ermenhild, herself repaired to
the convent of Ely, where her mother, St. Sexburga, had succeeded her
sister, St. Etheldreda, as Abbess, and vied with her daughter in piety
and devotion. Wulfhere was succeeded as king by his brother, Ethelred,
to whom, according to Giraldus Cambrensis, is due the building in 689
of the Monastery of St. John the Baptist in Chester. Ethelred fully
appreciated his niece’s character, and, seeing her holy conversation,
made her Lady and President at Weedon, Trentham, and Hanbury, thus
making her ruler of the nuns within his realm. He himself also took
the vows and became a monk, resigning the crown to his nephew, Cenred,
St. Werburgh’s brother, who, after a short reign of five years,
followed his uncle’s example; went to Rome the year of grace 708, and
was “professed to Saint Benette’s religion,” and “frome this lyfe
transitory, with vertu departed to eternal glory.”
Bradshaw goes on to describe “the gostly devocion of Saynt Werburge,
and vertuous governans of her places,” and, if the chronicler is to be
trusted, she showed a marvellous capacity for ruling her abbeys. Her
behaviour and character is thus described:--
“She was a minister rather than a mistress,
Her great pre-eminence caused no presumpcion,
Serving her systers with humble subjection.
. . . . .
Piteous and merciful and full of charity
To the poor people in their necessity.
. . . . .
She never commanded systers to do anything
But it was fulfilled in her own doing.”
Even from these short extracts we can readily gather what a gentle,
lovable personage she must have been, and how in all her relations
of life she manifested a truly humble and Christian spirit. Her life
was mainly spent between Weedon, Trentham, Repton, and Hanbury, and
we can imagine what a gracious influence she exercised upon the
religious houses there and their occupants, and so upon the surrounding
neighbourhoods. It was at Trentham that she died, enjoining,
however, that her body should rest at Hanbury. When she felt her end
approaching she gave directions as to her successors and officers in
the monasteries, and as to how their affairs should be conducted in the
future; then, calling the sisters round her, she gave them her last
exhortation, to live in temperance, obedience, and love, recited the
Creed, received the Blessed Sacrament, and--
“The third day of February ye may be sure,
Expired from this life, caduce and transitory,
To eternal blyss, coronate with victory,
Changing her lyfe, miserable and thrall,
For infinite joy, and glory eternal.”
This was probably in the year 699. The people of Trentham buried her in
that place, watching over the body lest it should be removed. However,
the people of Hanbury came, and, a deep sleep having fallen upon the
watchers, were enabled to carry the body safely to Hanbury, where it
was interred in the chancel. Nine years afterwards, in the summer of
708, it was moved from the grave to a duly prepared shrine with great
pomp, in the presence of her cousin King Ceolred and the bishops and
the clergy. Here, says the chronicler, the body remained whole and
substantial “for nearly 200 years, till the coming of the pagan Danes,”
when “it was resolved and fell to powder lest the wicked miscreants
with impious hands should dare to touch it.”
It was in 875, to save the remains from such violation, that the people
of Hanbury were inspired to bring them to Chester, as the Danes, having
destroyed Weedon and Trentham, had come as far as Repton. It was then
that--
“The relique, the Shryne full memorative,
Was brought to Chestre for our consolacion,
Reverently receyved, set with devocion
In the mouther Church of Saint Peter and Paule
(As afore is sayd) a place most principall.”
A full description is given of the solemn reception of the shrine and
its treasured contents, and also of the gifts wherewith rich and poor
vied with each other to enrich it.[70] The Church of St. Peter and
St. Paul was probably somewhere on the site of the present cathedral.
Ethelfleda, daughter of King Alfred, built a separate minster to St.
Werburgh, joining it to the east end of the older church. This building
(rebuilt, we are told, by Leofric, Earl of Chester) gave place to
the Norman structure of Hugh Lupus, in the erection of which he was
assisted by the advice of St. Anselm. But through all these changes
and vicissitudes the name of St. Werburgh was associated with the
dedication of the church, and her shrine found its home there.
[70] According to the Ely Book (_Liber Eliensis_) the relics were
brought to the Abbey of Ely (Wall’s _Shrines of British Saints_).
Certain portions of them may have been carried to either place, or
there may be some confusion as to the name.
The shrine was no doubt visited by pilgrims from all parts, and as
time went on was adorned and beautified. The shrine proper was a box
or receptacle in which the relics of the saint were deposited, and was
often made of the most splendid and costly materials, and enriched with
jewels in profusion.
Bradshaw speaks of this portable shrine as “a riall relique” (royal
relic), and also tells of the “many riall gyftes of jewels to the
shrine.” It was carried about in processions and in times of danger and
emergency, and was “set on the towne walles for help and tuicion”; to
save Chester from the attacks of the Welsh; and again,
“The devout Chanons sette the holy Shryne
Agaynst their enemies at the sayd Northgate,”
“when innumerable barbarik nations purposed to disstroye and spoyle
the city.” Similarly we are told “howe in 1180 a great fire, like to
destroye all Chestre, by myracle ceased when the holy shryne was borne
about the towne by the monkes.” As various miracles were ascribed
to her agency in her lifetime, so now her relics were regarded as
powerful instruments in warding off evil whether from individuals or
the community at large. The shrine would be visited by suppliants from
every quarter, who would invoke the aid of the Saint to remedy their
various ills. For the portable shrine a suitable resting-place would be
erected, one probably giving place to another as successive generations
altered the style and character of the building. Round this stately and
elaborate structure would be places where the suppliants could kneel,
and also receptacles for the offerings which their piety and gratitude
inspired. Of the earlier structures no trace remains, but the fifteenth
century one has in recent years been placed at the west end of the
Lady Chapel of the Cathedral, as being probably near the spot where it
originally stood. At the foundation of the See, and up till 1870, the
lower portion formed the base of the Bishop’s Throne, the crown being
lowered so as to form the balustrade in front of the Bishop’s seat. In
this adaptation certain stones were removed, and were built up in the
wall which enclosed the staircase which led from the Bishop’s study
directly into the Cathedral. In removing this staircase in 1885 these
stones were discovered, and have again been placed on the shrine, which
is thus restored to its original proportions. The shrine was adorned
with canopied niches, in which were sculptured figures bearing their
names on scrolls, representing the Kings and Saints of the Mercian
kingdom.
It will be gathered from what has been said that though Saint Werburgh
probably spent no portion of her life in Cheshire, yet she was for
more than seven hundred years associated in men’s minds with the
county, inasmuch as her shrine had its home in Chester. In those days
she would be looked upon as a Cheshire Saint, and from far and near
religious pilgrims would come to say their devotions and to tender
their offerings at her shrine in the Church which was dedicated to
God’s service in her name. We are therefore justified in speaking of
her under this heading. And she has left her name in the county in
other ways. Nine churches in England (six of them in the old kingdom
of Mercia) are dedicated in her name. One of these is in Cheshire at
Warburton, _Werburgh town_. That place gave its name to an honoured
Cheshire family, which has given its scions to the service of their
country in many directions, and which still holds a position of
high renown and esteem in the county. We may thus legitimately term
St. Werburgh a Cheshire Saint. We cannot do better than follow her
favourite precept and common saying: “Please God and love Him, and
doubt not anything.”
The other subject of our paper is St. Plegmund, to many perhaps
an unknown name, though he rose to a high position, and must have
exercised a wide and beneficent influence on Church and State both in
his own day and for succeeding generations. He, like St. Werburgh,
was a native of Mercia, though we cannot give his birthplace or his
parentage. But we can connect him very closely with the county and with
the neighbourhood of Chester, where his name is still preserved in the
name of a parish, that of Plemstall. This has been variously written at
different times, as Plegmundstall, Plegmondesham, &c. It was here, in
fact, that he established himself as a hermit in an Isle of Chester;
for though Plemstall is no longer an island, it has been clearly shown
that in earlier times the locality would justify such description.
Plegmund was born in troublous times about the middle of the ninth
century. The Danes had overrun the land, destroyed the monasteries, the
only places of learning, and driven the monks from their books. Some
there were, however, who determined, in spite of all difficulties, to
pursue their studies and to pray in solitude for better times, and of
these Plegmund was one. He had very probably been a monk, though this
cannot be said with certainty. At any rate he adopted the hermit’s
life, and set up his stall or habitation at Plemstall, then doubtless
an island amid fens and marshes, and by its situation affording a place
of safety in times of disorder and unrest. His lonely dwelling, of
which no trace remains, may have been on the site of the present church
or a short distance away, and nearer to the well which still bears his
name. Here he lived the hermit’s life; but we must remember, as Dean
Hook tells us, that a hermit was not an anchorite. The latter never
quitted his cell, but was an absolute recluse. The hermit was a more
independent character; he moved about as occasion demanded. If he had a
settled abode he would go to places of resort near at hand, and by his
preaching seek to benefit the wayfarers who might be passing by.
We can imagine therefore St. Plegmund paying his frequent visits to
the neighbouring city, only three or four miles distant, taking up his
position at one or other of its gates (for it was surrounded by its
Roman walls, and though then “waste” must have had some inhabitants),
and instructing out of his laboriously-acquired learning those who were
willing to pause and listen to his discourse. The anxious inquirer
might return with him to his island home and, after further preparation
as a catechumen, receive the grace of Holy Baptism at the well above
referred to. His supply of books or manuscripts would be but small.
The Bible of course was his constant companion, and it has been
suggested with confidence that Boethius’ _De Consolatione Philosophiæ_
would certainly be one of his treasures. This treatise was afterwards
translated by King Alfred, a task in which Plegmund may have helped
him. There is in the library of Corpus Christi College, Cambridge, a
copy (the oldest in existence) of the Saxon Chronicle, said to have
been translated by Plegmund, for which assertion there is internal
evidence of an indirect nature. This, however, was probably done after
he left this neighbourhood; but the fact may be taken as showing
what his powers were, and what a diligent student he must have been,
especially when we consider the scanty materials which would be at his
service. He must have acquired some reputation for his learning, and
his fame reached the ears of King Alfred, who sent for him to his Court
to act as his adult tutor. There he would find Grimbald, Werefrid,
Asser, and others, and with them would be associated with the monarch
in the promotion of learning and in furthering the best interests of
the nation.
We speak of the king as “Alfred the Great,” but then he was known as
“England’s Darling.” Alfred came to the crown in 872, and died in 900.
How soon after his accession he summoned Plegmund to his side to be his
tutor and instructor we cannot say, but that the relations between
them were very close and intimate and mutually advantageous, we can
have no doubt. In the year 890 the see of Canterbury was vacant, and,
having been declined by Grimbald, was offered by the King to Plegmund,
a step which was received with general approbation, for the entry in
the Saxon Chronicle runs thus: “This year 890 Plegmund was chosen of
God and of all the people Archbishop of Canterbury.” Plegmund was
consecrated at Rome by Pope Formosus, but as some doubt and discredit
was thrown upon the actions of this pontiff, he paid a second visit to
Rome, and was re-consecrated by Pope Stephen, thus submitting to a rite
of more than questionable propriety. He cordially seconded the King in
his endeavours to establish a learned priesthood. Some justification
has been alleged for the fact that several sees and posts were for a
time kept vacant, in the consideration that men of sufficient learning
and education were not to be found for them. At anyrate Plegmund,
scholar and theologian as he was, did all that lay in his power to
remove the reproach which was fastening upon the Church that it had an
ignorant and illiterate clergy.
In conjunction with the King, he published _The Pastoral Care_ of
Gregory the Great, a copy of which was sent to every English bishop,
with a noteworthy preface from the King himself, in which the sovereign
acknowledged what he had “learned of Plegmund my Archbishop, and
of Asser my bishop, and of Grimbald my presbyter, and of John my
presbyter.” It is interesting to know that the copy addressed to
Plegmund is still preserved, as well as those addressed to the Bishops
of Worcester and Sherborne. It is reasonable to conclude from this that
Alfred would find in _his_ Archbishop a zealous assistant in all his
efforts to promote sound and religious learning, and that the two would
heartily co-operate in endeavours to secure an educated clergy. Whether
he ever visited the scene of his former labours, it is impossible to
say; but the late Mr. Thomas Hughes, F.S.A., in a fancied description
of the laying of the foundation of St. John’s, Chester, writes thus:
“First there were Ethelred and Ethelfleda, the joint founders--near
them might stand their Royal Ward, Athelstan, the Etheling, heir to
his father’s throne. Prominent among the group would be Plegmund, the
Archbishop of Canterbury, a native of Mercia, and but a few years
before a modest recluse at the hermitage in that island of Chester.” We
cannot give a detailed account of Plegmund’s episcopate, which lasted
for twenty-four years; but we are sure that, as he assisted his royal
master when at his Court and before he became Archbishop in promoting
learning amongst his people, so in the higher position and with the
larger opportunities he must have done the like. Himself a student, he
knew the advantages of learning, and would be anxious to make them as
widespread as possible.
Alfred is looked upon as the founder of the University of Oxford, or
of University College, its first hall, and we can understand how in
that work, in the conception as well as in the performance of it, the
advice and counsel of his own tutor, Plegmund, would be most valuable.
During his pontificate the West Saxon Episcopate was sub-divided,
and the number of sees thereby increased, a clear indication of his
vigorous and strenuous rule. In 909 on the same day no fewer than seven
bishops were consecrated by Plegmund, three of them for newly-founded
sees, and one of these for the extreme west in Devonshire. This was for
Kirton, identified as Crediton, and it is interesting to note that the
millenary of the consecration of Eadulf as the first bishop of Crediton
has just been celebrated at that place. On that occasion the Bishop
of Bristol (Dr. G. F. Browne), who is an eminent historian, gave a
most instructive address, referring specially to the work of Plegmund,
and to an earlier Saint connected with Crediton, S. Boniface. It was
probably owing to that connection that Crediton was chosen as the seat
of the Bishops of Devonshire, a position it retained for more than a
hundred and fifty years. The Archbishop of Canterbury was also present
on the occasion, and expressed the hope that the work they were doing
now, the things they were now starting, and the works they were taking
in hand, might give as good cause to people a thousand years hence
to thank God and take courage, as was given a thousand years ago to
them by Plegmund and the seven Bishops of whom they had heard that
day. Plegmund died on July 23, 914, and was buried in the Cathedral of
Canterbury. No likeness of him has been left, not even on the coins
which bear his name. His life in Cheshire must have been singularly
quiet, and yet we cannot doubt that he was thereby nerved and braced
for the battle of life, and fitted for the arduous duties of the high
position to which he was afterwards called.
Allusion has been made to St. Plegmund’s Well. It is interesting to
know that whilst it bore this title in very early deeds, it has for
generations been designated “the Christening Well,” as the water for
the Font for Holy Baptism was drawn from it. Moreover, in the old
churchwardens’ accounts of the parish, mention is made of an annual
payment made to the clerk for cleaning out this well, and keeping it
free from weeds. There was some danger of the well being overlooked, as
it is very much overhung by bushes in the hedge at the back of it. The
original stone work at the side and bottom had decayed. In the autumn
of 1908 a new curb and back were erected at the expense of Mr. Osborne
Aldis, and dedicated on November 10th, when a goodly congregation
assembled, and after a short service in the church, when the story of
St. Plegmund was unfolded, proceeded to the well where the dedicatory
prayers were said. On the stone-work the following couplet is carved:--
“Hic fons Plegmundi functus baptismatis usu
Regnante Alfredo tunc hodieque solet.”