ANGLO-SAXON NUNS IN CONNECTION WITH BONIFACE.
‘Et ut dicitur, quid dulcius est, quam habeas illum, cum quo omnia
possis loqui ut tecum?’ _Eangith to Boniface._
§ 1. The Women corresponding with Boniface.
In the course of the 6th and 7th centuries a number of men left England
and settled abroad among the heathen Germans, partly from a wish to gain
new converts to the faith, partly because a change of affairs at home made
them long for a different field of labour. Through the influx of the
heathen Anglo-Saxons, the British Christians had been deprived of their
influence, and when Christianity was restored it was under the auspices of
princes who were favourably inclined towards Rome. Men who objected to the
Roman sway sought independence among the heathens abroad in preference to
dependence on strangers at home, and it is owing to their efforts that
Christianity was introduced into the valleys leading up from the Rhine,
into the lake districts of Bavaria, and into Switzerland.
A century later the Church had so far extended the limits of her power
that it was felt desirable at Rome that these Christian settlers should be
brought into subjection. For the tenets which they held and the traditions
which had been handed down to them differed in many ways from what Rome
could countenance. They were liberal in tolerating heathen practices, and
ignorant of matters of ritual and creed which were insisted on in the
Church of Rome. The bishops, who were self-appointed, were won over by the
promise of recognising the title to which they laid claim, but the
difficulty remained of weaning them from their objectionable practices.
Efforts were accordingly made to reconvert the converted districts and to
bring some amount of pressure to bear on the clergy.
The representative of this movement in South Germany was Boniface,
otherwise called Wynfred, on whom posterity has bestowed the title Apostle
of Germany, in recognition of his services in the twofold character of
missionary and reformer. He was a native of Wessex, and his mission abroad
has an interest in connection with our subject because of the friendly
relations he entertained with many inmates of women’s houses in England,
and because he invited women as well as men to leave England and assist
him in the work which he had undertaken.
Boniface had grown up as an inmate of the settlement of Nutshalling near
Winchester and first went abroad in 716, but proceeded no further than
Utrecht. Conjecture has been busy over the difficulties which took him
away, and the disappointments which brought him back. Utrecht was an old
Roman colony which had been captured from the Franks by Adgisl, king of
the Frisians, who gave a friendly reception there to Bishop Wilfrith in
678. But King Radbod, his successor, was hostile to the Franks and to
Christianity, and it was only in deference to the powerful Frankish
house-mayor Pippin that he countenanced the settling of Willibrord, a
pupil of Wilfrith, with eleven companions in 692. However, owing to
Radbod’s enmity the position of these monks was such that they were
obliged to leave, and it is possible that Boniface when he went to Utrecht
was disappointed in not finding them there.
Two years later Boniface went on a pilgrimage to Rome, where the idea of
bringing his energies to assist in the extension of Papal influence
originated. The Pope furnished him with a letter[364] in which he is
directed to reclaim the faithless, and armed with this he travelled in the
districts of the Main. But as soon as the news of the death of Radbod the
Frisian († 719) reached him he went to Utrecht, where Willibrord had
returned. We do not know what afterwards prompted him to resume his work
in Germany, but perhaps the proposal of Willibrord that he should settle
with him altogether awakened Boniface to the fact that he was not working
for the Pope as he proposed. His reception at Rome, where he again went in
722, and the declaration of faith he handed in, are in favour of this
view. But Gregory II who was aware of the abilities of Boniface forgave
him, and on the strength of his declaration provided him with further
letters. One of these was addressed to the Christians of Germany, to the
representative clergy and to the Thüringians, and another to the
house-mayor, Karl Martel, who had succeeded Pippin; both letters commanded
that the authority of Boniface was to be everywhere recognised.
From this time for a period of over thirty years Boniface devoted his
energies to extending, organizing and systematizing the power of Rome in
Germany. His character appears in different lights varying with the
standpoint from which he is regarded. Judging from his letters he is
alternately swayed by doggedness of purpose, want of confidence in
himself, dependence on friends, and jealous insistence on his own
authority. He has a curious way of representing himself as persecuted when
in fact he is the persecutor, but his power of rousing enthusiasm for his
work and for his personality is enormous.
His biographer Wilibald describes this power as already peculiar to him
during his stay at Nutshalling, where many men sought him to profit by his
knowledge, ‘while those who on account of their fragile sex could not do
so, and those who were not allowed to stay away from their settlements,
moved by the spirit of divine love, sought eagerly for an account of
him[365]....’
The interest Boniface had aroused at home accompanied him on his travels.
He remained in friendly communication with many persons in England, to
whom he wrote and who wrote to him. Among the friends and correspondents
whose letters are preserved are churchmen, princes, abbesses, clerics of
various degrees, and nuns. From the point of view of this book the letters
addressed to women are of special interest, since they bring us into
personal contact so to speak with the abbesses and inmates of English
convents, and we hear for the first time what they personally have to tell
us of themselves.
Among Boniface’s early friends and correspondents was Eadburg[366], abbess
of the monastery in Thanet. She was a woman of great abilities, zealous in
the pursuit of knowledge, and her influence secured several royal charters
for her settlement. She had probably succeeded Mildthrith, but at what
date is not known. Her letters to Boniface unfortunately have not been
preserved, but the letters he wrote to her are full of interesting matter.
The earliest of these was written between 718 and 719; in it Boniface does
not yet address her as abbess[367].
In this letter Boniface in compliance with a wish Eadburg had expressed,
describes a vision of the future life which a monk living at Mildburg’s
monastery at Wenlock had seen during a state of suspended animation.
Boniface had first heard of this vision from the abbess Hildelith of
Barking, and he writes a graphic and eloquent account of it, parts of
which are put into the mouth of the monk himself. The account gives
curious glimpses of that imagery of the future life which early Christians
dwelt upon and elaborated more and more. Nuns at this time as well as
later took a special interest in the subject.
First the monk is carried aloft through flames which enwrap the world. He
sees many souls for the possession of which angels and devils are
fighting. Impersonations of his sins confront and accost him, but his
virtues arise also and enter into conflict with the sins. The virtues are
supported by angels and the fight ends to the monk’s advantage. He also
sees fiery waters flowing towards hell: and souls like black birds which
hover over waters from whence proceed the wails of the damned. He sees
Paradise, and a river of pitch over which a bridge leads to Jerusalem, and
souls are trying to cross it. Among others suffering torments he catches
sight of King Ceolred of Mercia. At last the angels cast the monk down
from the height and he re-awakens to life.
Such descriptions of a future life multiply as one nears the Middle Ages.
By the side of the one which Boniface sent to Eadburg should be read
another by him, a fragmentary one, which supplements it[368]. The
sufferers in hell mentioned in this are Cuthburg, Ceolla and Wiala (of
whom nothing is known), an unnamed abbot and Aethelbald, king of Mercia (†
756).
The description of the after life given by Boniface agrees in various ways
with one contained in the works of Bede. According to this account there
was a man in Northumbria named Drycthelm, who died, came to life again,
and described what he had seen of the world to come.
The other letters which Boniface addressed to Eadburg are of later date
and were written when he had settled abroad and was devoting his energies
to converting the Hessians and Thüringians. At this time he asked her to
send him through the priest Eoban the letters of the apostle Peter, which
she was to write for him in gold characters. ‘Often,’ he says, ‘gifts of
books and vestments, the proofs of your affection, have been to me a
consolation in misfortune. So I pray that you will continue as you have
begun, and write for me in gold characters the epistles of my master, the
holy apostle Peter, to the honour and reverence of holy writ before mortal
eyes while I am preaching, and because I desire always to have before me
the words of him who led me on my mission....’ He ends his letter by again
hoping that she will accede to his request so ‘that her words may shine in
gold to the glory of the Father in heaven[369].’
The art of writing in gold on parchment was unknown to Scottish artists
and had been introduced into England from Italy. Bishop Wilfrith owned the
four gospels ‘written in purest gold on purple-coloured parchment,’ and a
few of the purple gospels with gold writing of this period have been
preserved. The fact that women practised the art is evident from the
letter of Boniface. Eadburg must have had a reputation for writing, for
Lul, one of Boniface’s companions, sent her among other gifts a silver
style (_graphium argenteum_) such as was used at the time for writing on
wax tablets[370].
Boniface received frequent gifts from friends in England. Eoban, who
carried his letter asking Eadburg for the Epistles of St Peter, was the
bearer of a letter to an Abbot Duddo in which Boniface reminding him of
their old friendship asked for a copy of the Epistles of St Paul[371].
Again Boniface wrote asking Abbot Huetberht of Wearmouth for the minor
works (_opuscula_) of Bede[372], and Lul, who was with him, wrote to
Dealwin to forward the minor works of Ealdhelm, bishop of Sherbourne,
those in verse and those in prose[373].
Judging from the correspondence the effective work of Boniface resulted in
the execution of only a small part of his great schemes. His original plan
was repeatedly modified. There is extant a letter from the Pope which
shows that he hoped for the conversion of the heathen Saxons and
Thüringians[374], and the idea was so far embraced by Boniface that he
wrote a letter to the bishops, priests, abbots and abbesses in England
asking them to pray that the Saxons might accept the faith of Christ[375].
But the plan for their conversion was eventually abandoned.
At this period belief in the efficacy of prayer was unbounded, and praying
for the living was as much part of the work of the professed as praying
for the dead. Settlements apparently combined for the purpose of mutually
supporting each other by prayer. A letter is extant in the correspondence
of Boniface in which the abbot of Glastonbury, several abbesses and other
abbots agree to pray at certain hours for each other’s settlements[376].
In his times of trouble and tribulation Boniface wrote to all his friends
asking for prayers. ‘We were troubled on every side,’ he wrote to the
abbess Eadburg, quoting Scripture[377], ‘without were fightings, within
were fears.’ She was to pray for him that the pagans might be snatched
from their idolatrous customs and unbelievers brought back to the Catholic
mother Church.
Eadburg had liberally responded to his request for gifts. ‘Beloved
sister,’ he wrote[378], ‘with gifts of holy books you have comforted the
exile in Germany with spiritual light! For in this dark remoteness among
German peoples man must come to the distress of death had he not the word
of God as a lamp unto his feet and as a light unto his paths[379]. Fully
trusting in your love I beseech that you pray for me, for I am shaken by
my shortcomings, that take hold of me as though I were tossed by a tempest
on a dangerous sea.’ This consciousness of his shortcomings was not wholly
due to the failure of his plans, for Boniface at one period of his life
was much troubled by questions of theology. The simile of being
tempest-tossed is often used by him. In a letter addressed to an unnamed
nun he describes his position in language similar to that in which he
addresses Eadburg. This nun also is urged to pray for him in a letter full
of biblical quotations[380].
Among the letters to Boniface there are several from nuns and abbesses
asking for his advice. Political difficulties and the changed attitude of
the ruling princes of Northumbria and Mercia towards convents brought such
hardships to those who had adopted the religious profession that many of
them wished to leave their homes, and availed themselves of the
possibility of doing so which was afforded by the plan of going on
pilgrimage to Rome.
The wish to behold the Eternal City had given a new direction to the love
of wandering, so strong a trait in human nature. The motives for visiting
Rome have been different in different periods of history. To the convert
in the 8th and 9th centuries Rome appeared as the fountain-head of
Christianity, the residence of Christ’s representative on earth, and the
storehouse of famous deeds and priceless relics. Architectural remains
dating from the period of Roman rule were numerous throughout Europe and
helped to fill the imagination of those dwelling north of the Alps with
wonder at the possible sights and treasures which a visit to Rome itself
might disclose. Prelates and monks undertook the journey to establish
personal relations with the Pope and to acquire books and relics for their
settlements, but the taste for travelling spread, and laymen and wayfarers
of all kinds joined the bands of religious pilgrims. Even kings and
queens, with a sudden change of feeling which the Church magnified into a
portentous conversion, renounced the splendour of their surroundings and
donned the pilgrim’s garb in the hope of beholding the Eternal City in its
glory.
Among the letters which are preserved in the correspondence of Boniface
there is one from Aelflaed, abbess of Whitby, in which she writes to the
abbess Adolana (probably Adela) of Pfälzel (Palatiolum) on the Mosel near
Trier, recommending to her care a young abbess who is on her way to Rome.
This letter shows that Aelflaed was well versed in writing Latin. The name
of the abbess in whose behalf the letter was penned is not known, but she
may be identical with Wethburg, who lived and died at Rome[381].
‘To the holy and worshipful abbess Adolana, a greeting in the Lord of
eternal salvation.
‘Since we have heard of your holiness from those who have come from your
parts, and from widespread report, in the first place I pray for your warm
affection, for the Lord has said: This is my command, that ye love one
another[382].
‘Further we make humble request that your holy and fervent words may
commend us worthily to God Almighty, should it not be irksome to you to
offer devotion in return for ours; for James the Apostle has taught and
said: Pray for one another, that ye may be saved.
‘Further to your great holiness and usual charity we humbly and earnestly
commend this maiden vowed to God, a pious abbess, our dear and faithful
daughter, who since the days of her youth, from love of Christ and for the
honour of the apostles Peter and Paul, has been desirous of going to their
holy threshold, but who has been kept back by us until now because we
needed her and in order that the souls entrusted to her might profit. And
we pray that with charity and true kindness she may be received into your
goodwill, as well as those who are travelling with her, in order that the
desired journey with God’s help and your willing charity may at last be
accomplished. Therefore again and again we beseech that she may be helped
on her way with recommendations from you to the holy city Rome, by the
help of the holy and signbearing leader (signifer) of the apostles Peter;
and if you are present we hope and trust she may find with you whatever
advice she requires for the journey. May divine grace watch over your
holiness when you pray for us.’
The desire to go southward was strengthened among religious women by the
increasing difficulties of their position at home. Monastic privileges
were no longer respected by the kings of Mercia and Northumbria, and the
Church lacked the power of directly interfering in behalf of monks and
nuns. There is in the correspondence a letter which Boniface wrote in his
own name and in that of his foreign bishops to Aethelbald, king of Mercia
(716-756); he sharply rebukes him for his immoral practices and urges on
him the desirability of taking a lawful wife. He accuses the king of
indulging his wicked propensities even in monasteries and with nuns and
maidens who were vowed to God; following the example of Tacitus, he
praises the pure morals of the heathen Germans. The passages which bear on
the subject are worthy of perusal, for they show how uncertain was the
position of monasteries and how keenly Boniface realized the difficulties
of nuns. He tells the king ‘that loose women, whether they be vowed to
religion or not, conceive inferior children through their wickedness and
frequently do away with them.’ The privileges of religious houses, he
says, were respected till the reign of King Osred (706-17) of Northumbria,
and of King Ceolred (709-16) of Mercia, but ‘these two kings have shown
their evil disposition and have sinned in a criminal way against the
teaching of the gospels and the doings of our Saviour. They persisted in
vice, in the seduction of nuns and the contemptuous treatment of monastic
rights. Condemned by the judgment of God, and hurled from the heights of
royal authority, they were overtaken by a speedy and awful death, and are
now cut off from eternal light, and buried in the depths of hell and in
the abyss of the infernal regions[383].’ We have seen that in the letter
written by Boniface to Eadburg, Ceolred is described as suffering torments
in hell, and that King Aethelbald at a later date is depicted in the same
predicament.
With his letter to Aethelbald Boniface forwarded two others to the priest
Herefrith, probably of Lindisfarne[384], and to Ecgberht (archbishop of
York, 732-66), requesting them to support him against Aethelbald. ‘It is
the duty of your office to see that the devil does not establish his
kingdom in places consecrated to God,’ he wrote to Ecgberht, ‘that there
be not discord instead of peace, strife instead of piety, drunkenness
instead of sobriety, slaughter and fornication instead of charity and
chastity[385].’ Shortly afterwards he wrote to Cuthberht, archbishop of
Canterbury (740-62), telling him of the statutes passed at the Synod of
Soissons[386], and severely censuring the conduct of the layman, ‘be he
emperor, king or count, who snatches a monastery from bishop, abbot, or
abbess.’
These admonitions show that the position of the religious houses and that
of their rulers depended directly on the temper of the reigning prince. In
the correspondence there are several letters from abbesses addressed to
Boniface bearing on this point, which give us a direct insight into the
tone of mind of these women. Their Latin is cumbersome and faulty, and
biblical quotations are introduced which do not seem always quite to the
point. The writers ramble on without much regard to construction and
style, and yet there is a genuine ring about their letters which makes the
distress described seem very real.
One of these letters was written by an abbess named Ecgburg, probably at
an early period of Boniface’s career[387]. Her reference to the remoteness
of her settlement suggests the idea that it was Repton, and that she
herself was identical with Ecgburg, daughter of Ealdwulf king of the East
Angles, the abbess whom we have noticed in connection with Guthlac. If
that be so her sister Wethburg, to whom she refers, may be identical with
the young unnamed abbess whom Aelflaed sped on her journey to Rome.
‘Since a cruel and bitter death,’ she writes, ‘has robbed me of him, my
brother Osher, whom I loved beyond all others, you I hold dearer than all
other men. Not to multiply words, no day, no night passes, but I think of
your teaching. Believe me it is on account of this that I love you, God is
my witness. In you I confide, because you were never forgetful of the
affection which assuredly bound you to my brother. Though inferior to him
in knowledge and in merit, I am not unlike him in recognizing your
goodness. Time goes by with increasing swiftness and yet the dark gloom of
sadness leaves me not. For time as it comes brings me increase of
indignities, as it is written “Love of man brings sorrow, but love of
Christ gladdens the heart.” More recently my equally beloved sister
Wethburg, as though to inflict a wound and renew a pang, suddenly passed
out of my sight, she with whom I had grown up and with whom I was nursed
at the same breast; one mother she and I had in the Lord, and my sister
has left me. Jesus is my witness that on all sides there is sorrow, fear,
and the image of death[388]. I would gladly die if it so pleased God, to
whom the unknown is manifest, for this slow death is no trifle. What was
it I was saying? From my sister not a sudden and bitter death, but a
bitterer separation, divides me; I believe it was for her happiness, but
it left me unhappy, as a corpse laid low, when adopting the fashion of the
age she went on a pilgrimage, even though she knew how much I loved and
cherished her, whom now as I hear a prison confines at Rome. But the love
of Christ, which is strong and powerful in her, is stronger and more
binding than all fetters, and perfect love casteth out fear. Indeed, I
say, he who holds the power of divination, the Ruler of high Olympus, has
endowed you with divine wisdom, and in his law do you meditate night and
day[389]. For it is written: “How beautiful are the feet of them that
preach the gospel of peace, and bring tidings of good things[390].” She
has mounted by a steep and narrow path, while I remain below, held by
mortal flesh as by irons upon my feet. In the coming judgment full of joy
she, like unto the Lord, will sing: “I was in prison and ye came unto
me[391].” You also in the future life, when the twelve apostles sit on
their twelve seats[392], will be there, and in proportion to the number of
those whom you have won by your work, will rejoice before the tribunal of
the eternal King, like unto a leader who is about to be crowned. But I
living in the vale of tears as I deserve, shall be weeping for my
offences, on account of which God holds me unfit to join the heavenly
hosts. Therefore, believe me, the tempest-tossed mariner does not so much
long for the haven, the thirsty fields do not long so much for rain, the
mother on the winding shore does not so anxiously wait for her son, as I
long to rejoice in your sight. But oppressed by sins and innumerable
offences, I so long to be freed from imminent danger, that I am made
desperate; adoring the footsteps of your holiness and praying to you from
the depths of my heart as a sinner, I call to you from the ends of the
earth, O beloved master; as my anxious heart prompts, raise me to the
corner-stone of your prayer, for you are my hope and a strong tower
invisible to the enemy. And I beg as consolation to my grief and as limit
to the wave of my sorrow, that my weakness may be supported by your
intercession as by a prop. I entreat that you will condescend to give me
some comfort either in the form of a relic or of a few words of blessing,
written by you, in order that through them I may hold your presence
secure.’
By the side of this letter must be quoted another written by an Abbess
Eangith, describing similar difficulties in a similar strain[393]. We do
not know over which settlement Eangith presided, but her name and that of
her daughter Heaburg of whom she speaks are inscribed in the Durham ‘Liber
Vitae[394].’
‘Beloved brother in the spirit rather than in the flesh,’ she writes, ‘you
are magnified by the abundance of spiritual graces, and to you alone, with
God as our sole witness, we wish to make known what you see here spread
out before you and blotted by our tears: we are borne down by an
accumulation of miseries as by a weight and a pressing burden, and also by
the tumult of political affairs. As the foaming masses of the ocean when
the force of the winds and the raging fury of the tempest lash up the
great sea, carry in and carry out again the heaving billows dashing over
rocks, so that the keels of the boats are turned upwards and the mast of
the ship is pressed downwards, so do the ships of our souls groan under
the great press of our miseries and the great mass of our misfortunes. By
the voice of truth has it been said of the heavenly house: “The rain
descended and the floods came, and the winds blew and beat upon that
house[395],” etc.
‘First and before all noteworthy of the things that affect us from
without, must be mentioned the multitude of our offences and our want of
full and complete faith, due not so much to care for our own souls but,
what is worse and more oppressive, to care for the souls of those of
either sex and of every age which have been entrusted to us. For this care
involves ministering to many minds and to various dispositions, and
afterwards giving account before the supreme tribunal of Christ both for
obvious sins in deeds and words, and for secret thoughts which men ignore
and God alone witnesseth; with a simple sword against a double-edged one,
with ten thousand to meet twenty thousand warriors[396]. In addition to
this care of souls we have difficulties in our domestic affairs, and
various disagreements which the jealous enemy of all good has sown,
namely, he who fills the impure hearts of men with malice and scatters it
everywhere, but chiefly in the settlements of monks and nuns; but it is
said “the mighty shall be mightily tormented[397].” Moreover the poverty
and scantiness of our temporal possessions oppress us, and the smallness
of the cultivated part of our estate; and the hostility of the king, for
we are accused before him by those who envy us, as a wise man has said:
“the bewitching of vanity obscureth good things[398].” Similarly we are
oppressed by service due to the king and the queen, to bishop and prefect,
officers and attendants. It would take long to enumerate those things
which can be more easily imagined than described.
‘To all these evils is added the loss of friends, connections, and
relatives by alliance and by blood. I[399] have neither son nor brother,
neither father nor father’s brother, none but an only daughter who is
bereft of all that was dear to her; and a sister who is old, and the son
of our brother, who too is unhappy in his mind, for our king holds his
family connections in great contempt. There is no one else for us to rely
on; God has removed them all by one chance or another. Some have died in
their native land, and their bodies lie in the grimy dust of the earth to
rise again on the day of doom, when the Master’s trumpet shall sound, and
the whole race of man shall come forth from dark tombs to give account of
themselves; when their spirits, borne upwards in angels’ arms, shall abide
with Christ; when all sorrow shall end, and envy be worn out, and grief
and mourning shall vanish in sight of the saints. Again others have left
their native shores, and trusted themselves to the wide seas, and have
sought the threshold of the holy apostles Peter and Paul and of all those
martyrs, virgins and confessors, whose number God alone knows.
‘For these and other like causes, hardly to be enumerated in one day
though July and August lengthen the days of summer, we are weary of our
present life and hardly care to continue it. Every man uncertain of his
purpose and distrustful of his own counsel, seeks a faithful friend whose
advice he follows since he distrusts his own; and such faith has he in him
that he lays before him and reveals to him every secret of his heart. As
has been said, what is sweeter than having someone with whom one can
converse as with oneself? Therefore on account of the pressing miseries we
have now insisted on to the full, we needs must find a true friend, one
whom we can trust more than ourselves; who will treat our grief, our
miseries and our poverty as his own, who will sympathize with us, comfort
us, support us by his words, and raise us up by wise counsel. Long have we
sought him. And we believe that in you we have found the friend whom we
longed for, whom we wished for, whom we desired.
‘Would that God had granted to us that, as Habakkuk the prophet was sped
with food into the lion’s den to the seer Daniel[400], or that as Philip
one of the seven deacons was sped to the eunuch[401], we also were sped
and could come to the land and to the district where you dwell; or that it
were possible for us to hear living words from your lips. ‘How sweet are
thy words unto my palate, O Lord, sweeter than honey to my mouth[402].’
‘But since this is not vouchsafed to us and we are divided from you by a
wide expanse of land and of sea and by the boundaries of many provinces,
because of our faith in you referred to above we will tell you, brother
Boniface, that for a long time we have entertained the design like so many
of our friends, relatives and others, of visiting Rome, the mistress of
the world, there to seek forgiveness of our sins as many others have done
and are now doing; so especially I (wish to do) since I am advanced in
age, and have erred more than others. Wala, at one time my abbess and
spiritual mother, was acquainted with my wish and my intention. My only
daughter at present is young, and cannot share my desire. But because we
know how many there are who scoff at this wish and deprecate this desire,
and support their view by adducing what the canons of the synods enjoin,
that wherever anyone has settled and taken his vow, there shall he remain
and there serve God; for we all live in different ways and God’s purposes
are unknown, as the prophet says: ‘Thy righteousness is like the great
mountains, thy judgments are a great deep, O Lord[403]’; and because His
sacred will and desire in these things is hidden,--therefore we two, both
of us in our difficulty, call on you earnestly and reverently: be you to
us as Aaron, a mountain of strength, let your prayer be our help, swing
the censer of prayer with incense in sight of the Divine, and let the
lifting up of your hands be as the evening sacrifice[404]. Indeed we trust
in God and beg of your goodness that by supplication of mouth and inward
prayer it may be revealed to you what seems for us wise and useful:
whether we are to live at home or go forth on pilgrimage. Also we beg of
your goodness to send back your answer across the sea, and reply to what
we have scratched on these leaves in rustic style and with unpolished
wording. We have scant faith in those who glory in appearance and not in
heart[405], but faith in your love, your charity in God and your
goodness.’
It is not known whether Eangith carried out her intention and went to
Rome.
Boniface had another correspondence with an abbess named Bugga, but though
Eangith states that her daughter Heaburg was sometimes called by that
name, it is not probable that they were the same, for Boniface writing to
Bugga makes no mention of Eangith’s plan, which he would hardly have
omitted to do if Heaburg had been his correspondent[406].
Bugga was afterwards abbess of a monastery in Kent. She too sent gifts to
Boniface, and later entertained the idea of going to Rome. In early days
the prelate wrote to her telling her how he had been mercifully led
through unknown countries, how ‘the Pontiff of the glorious see’ Gregory
II had inclined to him, and how he had cast down ‘the enemy of the
Catholic Church, Radbod,’ the Frisian.
In reply she assures him of her continued affection and makes some remarks
on books they have exchanged. The Passions of the Martyrs which he has
asked for she has not yet procured, but she will forward them as soon as
she can. ‘But you, my friend,’ she writes, ‘send me as a consolation what
you promised in your kind letter, your extracts from the holy writings.
And I beseech you to offer the oblation of the holy mass for one of my
relatives whom I loved beyond all others. I send you by the bearer of this
letter fifty gold coins (solidi) and an altar cloth, better gifts I cannot
procure. They are truly signs of a great affection though of insignificant
appearance[407].’
Bugga does not style herself abbess, but Boniface addresses her as such in
acknowledging the receipt of her gifts and advising her about going to
Rome. On another occasion he wrote to express concern at her troubles,
which he heard from many people had not diminished since she retired from
rule for the sake of quiet[408]. The letter in which he advises her about
going to Rome is worth quoting[409].
‘Be it made known to you, dearest sister,’ he writes, ‘regarding the
advice which you asked for in your letter, that I do not presume to forbid
you the pilgrim’s journey, neither would I directly advise it. I will
explain why. If you gave up the charge you had of the servants of God, of
his virgins (ancillae), and your own monastic life, for the purpose of
securing quiet and the thought of God, in what way are you now bound to
obey the words and the will of seculars with toil and wearing anxiety?
Still if you cannot find peace of mind in your home in secular life among
seculars it seems right that you should seek in a pilgrimage freedom for
contemplation, especially since you wish it and can arrange it; just in
the way our sister Wethburg did. She told me in her letter that she had
found the quiet she longed for near the threshold of St Peter. In
reference to your wish she sent me a message, for I had written to her
about you, saying that you must wait till the attacks, hostility and
menaces of the Saracens who have lately reached the Roman States have
subsided, and that God willing she would then send you a letter of
invitation. I too think this best. Prepare yourself for the journey, but
wait for word from her, and then do as God in his grace commands. As to
the collection of extracts for which you ask, be considerate to my
shortcomings. Pressing work and continuous travelling prevent my
furnishing you with what you desire. As soon as I can I will forward them
to please you.
‘We thank you for the gifts and vestments which you have sent, and pray to
God Almighty, to put aside a gift for you in return with the angels and
archangels in the heights of heaven. And I beseech you in the name of God,
dear sister, yea mother and sweet lady, that you diligently pray for me.
For many troubles beset me through my shortcomings, and I am more
distressed by uncertainty of mind than by bodily work. Rest assured that
our old trust in each other will never fail us.’
Bugga carried out her intention and went to Rome, where she met Boniface,
who was the Pope’s guest about the year 737. He had achieved a signal
success in reconverting the Hessians, and was now appointed to constitute
bishoprics in Bavaria and to hold councils of Church dignitaries at
regular intervals[410]. At Rome Bugga and Boniface walked and talked
together, and visited the churches of the holy apostles. A letter from
Aethelberht II, king of Kent, to Boniface refers to their meeting[411].
Bugga had come back to her old monastery and had given the king a
description of her visit. She attained a considerable age, for she was
advanced in years before her pilgrimage, and about twenty years later
Bregwin, archbishop of Canterbury (759-765), wrote to Lul informing him of
her death[412].
Boniface made provision at Rome for the women in whom he was interested. A
certain deacon Gemmulus writes to him from Rome to inform him[413] that
‘the sisters and maidens of God who have reached the threshold of the
apostles’ are there being cared for by himself and others as Boniface has
desired.
The readiness with which Anglo-Saxon nuns went abroad eventually led to a
state of things which cast discredit on religion. Boniface addressed the
following remarks on these pilgrimages to Cuthberht of Canterbury in the
letter written after the synod of Soissons[414].
‘I will not withhold from your holiness,’ he says, ‘... that it were a
good thing and besides honour and a credit to your Church and a palliation
of evils, if the synod and your princes forbade women, and those who have
taken the veil, to travel and stay abroad as they do, coming and going in
the Roman states. They come in great numbers and few return undefiled. For
there are very few districts of Lombardy in which there is not some woman
of Anglian origin living a loose life among the Franks and the Gauls. This
is a scandal and disgrace to your whole Church....’
The difficulty of exercising more control over those who chose to leave
their settlements was only partly met by stricter rules of supervision.
For there were no means of keeping back monk or nun who was tired of
living the monastic life. In the 9th century Hatto bishop of Basel († 836)
wrote to the bishop of Toul enjoining that no one should be suffered to
undertake a pilgrimage to Rome without leave, and provisions of a much
later date order that houses shall not take in and harbour inmates from
other settlements.
In this connection it is interesting to find Lul, who had settled abroad
with Boniface, excommunicating an abbess Suitha because she had allowed
two nuns to go into a distant district for some secular purpose without
previously asking permission from her bishop[415]. The women who settled
in Germany under Boniface were brought under much stricter control than
had till then been customary in either France or England.
§ 2. Anglo-Saxon Nuns abroad.
Among the women who came to Germany and settled there at the request of
Boniface was Lioba, otherwise Leobgith, who had been educated at Wimbourne
in Dorset, at no very great distance from Nutshalling where Boniface
dwelt, and who left England between 739 and 748. She was related to him
through her mother Aebbe, and a simple and modest little letter is extant
in which she writes to Boniface and refers to her father’s death six years
ago; she is her parents’ only child, she says, and would recall her mother
and herself to the prelate’s memory.
‘This too I ask for,’ she writes in this letter, ‘correct the rusticity of
my style and do not neglect to send me a few words in proof of your
goodwill. I have composed the few verses which I enclose according to the
rules of poetic versification, not from pride but from a desire to
cultivate the beginnings of learning, and now I am longing for your help.
I was taught by Eadburg who unceasingly devotes herself to this divine
art.’ And she adds four lines of verse addressed to God Almighty as an
example of what she can do[416].
As mentioned above we are indebted for an account of Lioba’s life to the
monk Rudolf of Fulda († 865). From this we learn that Lioba at a tender
age had been given into the care of the abbess Tetta at Wimbourne[417].
‘She grew up, so carefully tended by the abbess and the sisters, that she
cared for naught but the monastery and the study of holy writ. She was
never pleased by irreverent jokes, nor did she care for the other maidens’
senseless amusements; her mind was fixed on the love of Christ, and she
was ever ready to listen to the word of God, or to read it, and to commit
to memory what she heard and read to her own practical advantage. In
eating and drinking she was so moderate that she despised the allurements
of a great entertainment and felt content with what was put before her,
never asking for more. When she was not reading, she was working with her
hands, for she had learnt that those who do not work have no right to
eat.’
She was moreover of prepossessing appearance and of engaging manners, and
secured the goodwill of the abbess and the affection of the inmates of the
settlement. A dream of hers is described by her biographer in which she
saw a purple thread of indefinite length issuing from her mouth. An aged
sister whom she consulted about it, interpreted the dream as a sign of
coming influence.
To Lioba, Tecla and Cynehild, Boniface addressed a letter from abroad,
asking in the usual way for the support of their prayers[418]. Lioba’s
biographer tells us that when Boniface thought of establishing religious
settlements, ‘wishing that the order of either sex should exist according
to rule,’ he arranged that Sturmi, who had settled at Fulda, should go to
Italy and there visit St Benedict’s monastery at Monte Casino, and he
‘sent envoys with letters to the abbess Tetta (of Wimbourne) begging her
as a comfort in his labour, and as a help in his mission, to send over the
virgin Lioba, whose reputation for holiness and virtuous teaching had
penetrated across wide lands and filled the hearts of many with praise of
her[419].’
This request shows that Boniface thought highly of the course of life and
occupations practised in English nunneries and that he considered English
women especially suited to manage the settlements under his care. In a
letter written from Rome about 738 Boniface refers to the sisters and
brothers who are living under him in Germany[420]. Parties of English men
and women joined him at different times. One travelled under the priest
Wiehtberht, who sent a letter to the monks of Glastonbury to inform them
of his safe arrival and honourable reception by Boniface, and he requests
that Tetta of Wimbourne may be told of this[421]. Perhaps Lioba, who was
Tetta’s pupil, was one of the party who travelled to Germany with
Wiehtberht.
‘In pursuance of his plan,’ says Lioba’s life[422], ‘Boniface now arranged
monastic routine and life according to accepted rule, and set Sturmi as
abbot over the monks and the virgin Lioba as spiritual mother over the
nuns, and gave into her care a monastery at the place called Bischofsheim,
where a considerable number of servants of God were collected together,
who now followed the example of their blessed teacher, were instructed in
divine knowledge and so profited by her teaching that several of them in
their turn became teachers elsewhere; for few monasteries of women
(monasteria fœminarum) existed in those districts where Lioba’s pupils
were not sought as teachers. She (Lioba) was a woman of great power and of
such strength of purpose that she thought no more of her fatherland and of
her relations but devoted all her energies to what she had undertaken,
that she might be blameless before God, and a model in behaviour and
discipline to all those who were under her. She never taught what she did
not practise. And there was neither conceit nor domineering in her
attitude; she was affable and kindly without exception towards everyone.
She was as beautiful as an angel; her talk was agreeable, her intellect
was clear; her abilities were great; she was a Catholic in faith; she was
moderate in her expectations and wide in her affections. She always showed
a cheerful face but she was never drawn into hilarity. No one ever heard a
word of abuse (maledictionem) pass her lips, and the sun never went down
on her anger. In eating and drinking she was liberal to others but
moderate herself, and the cup out of which she usually drank was called by
the sisters ‘the little one of our beloved’ (dilectae parvus) on account
of its smallness. She was so bent on reading that she never laid aside
her book except to pray or to strengthen her slight frame with food and
sleep. From childhood upwards she had studied grammar and the other
liberal arts, and hoped by perseverance to attain a perfect knowledge of
religion, for she was well aware that the gifts of nature are doubled by
study. She zealously read the books of the Old and New Testaments, and
committed their divine precepts to memory; but she further added to the
rich store of her knowledge by reading the writings of the holy Fathers,
the canonical decrees, and the laws of the Church (totiusque ecclesiastici
ordinis jura). In all her actions she showed great discretion, and thought
over the outcome of an undertaking beforehand so that she might not
afterwards repent of it. She was aware that inclination is necessary for
prayer and for study, and she was therefore moderate in holding vigils.
She always took a rest after dinner, and so did the sisters under her,
especially in summer time, and she would not suffer others to stay up too
long, for she maintained that the mind is keener for study after sleep.’
Boniface, writing to Lioba while she was abbess at Bischofsheim, sanctions
her taking a girl into the settlement for purposes of instruction.
Bischofsheim was on the Tauber a tributary of the river Main, and
Boniface, who dwelt at Mainz, frequently conferred with her there. Lioba
went to stay with Boniface at Mainz in 757 before he went among the
Frisians[423]; he presented her with his cloak and begged her to remain
true to her work whatever might befall him. Shortly after he set out on
his expedition he was attacked and killed by heathens. His corpse was
brought back and buried at Fulda, and Lioba went to pray at his grave, a
privilege granted to no other woman.
Lioba was also in contact with temporal rulers. Karl the Great gave her
presents and Queen Hildegard († 783) was so captivated with her that she
tried to persuade her to come and live with her. ‘Princes loved her,’ her
biographer tells us, ‘noblemen received her, and bishops gladly
entertained her and conversed with her on the scriptures and on the
institutions of religion, for she was familiar with many writings and
careful in giving advice.’ She had the supervision of other settlements
besides her own and travelled about a good deal. After Boniface’s death
she kept on friendly terms with Lul who had succeeded him as bishop of
Mainz (757-786), and it was with his consent that she finally resigned
her responsibilities and her post as abbess at Bischofsheim and went to
dwell at Schornsheim near Mainz with a few companions. At the request of
Queen Hildegard she once more travelled to Aachen where Karl the Great was
keeping court. But she was old, the fatigues of the journey were too much
for her, and she died shortly after her return in 780. Boniface had
expressed a wish that they should share the same resting-place and her
body was accordingly taken to Fulda, but the monks there, for some unknown
reason, preferred burying her in another part of their church.
It is noteworthy that the women who by the appointment of Boniface
directed convent life in Germany, remained throughout in a state of
dependence[424], while the men, noticeably Sturmi († 779) whom he had made
abbot at Fulda, cast off their connection with the bishop, and maintained
the independence of their monasteries. Throughout his life Sturmi showed a
bold and determined spirit, but he was not therefore less interesting to
the nuns of Boniface’s circle. His pupil and successor Eigil wrote an
account of his life at the request of the nun Angiltrud, who is also
supposed to have come from England to Germany[425].
We know little concerning the other Anglo-Saxon women who settled abroad,
for there are no contemporary accounts of them. The ‘Passion of Boniface,’
written at Mainz between 1000 and 1050, tells us that as Lioba settled at
Bischofsheim so Tecla settled at Kizzingen, where ‘she shone like a light
in a dark place[426].’ No doubt this Tecla is identical with the nun of
that name whom Boniface speaks of in his letter to Lioba[427]. She has a
place among the saints[428], but it seems doubtful whether she founded the
monastery at Kizzingen or the one at Oxenfurt.
The names of several other women are given by Othlon, a monk of St Emmeran
in Bavaria, who in consequence of a quarrel fled from his monastery and
sought refuge at Fulda. While there, between 1062 and 1066, he re-wrote
and amplified Wilibald’s life of Boniface. In this account he gives a list
of the men who came into Germany from England, the correctness of which
has been called in question. He then enumerates the women who came abroad
and mentions ‘an aunt of Lul called Chunihilt[429] and her daughter
Berthgit[430], Chunitrud and Tecla, Lioba, and Waltpurgis the sister of
Wilibald and Wunebald[431].’ The only mention of Waltpurgis is her name,
but he describes where the other women settled, some in the district of
the Main, others in Bavaria.
This woman Waltpurgis has been the subject of many conjectures; writers
generally do not hesitate to affirm that the sister of Wunebald and
Wilibald is identical with the saint who was so widely reverenced. But St
Waltpurgis, popularly called Walburg, is associated with customs and
traditions which so clearly bear a heathen and profane character in the
Netherlands and in North Germany, that it seems improbable that these
associations should have clustered round the name of a Christian woman and
a nun[432].
In face of the existing evidence one of two conclusions must be adopted.
Either the sister of Wunebald and Wilibald really bore the name
Waltpurgis, and the monk Wolfhard who wrote an account of a saint of that
name whose relics were venerated at Eichstätt (between 882 and 912) took
advantage of the coincidence of name and claimed that the Walburg, who
bears the character of a pseudo-saint, and the sister of Wunebald and
Wilibald were identical; or else, desirous to account for the veneration
of relics which were commonly connected with the name Walburg, he found it
natural and reasonable to hold that Walburg had belonged to the circle of
Boniface, and identified her with the sister of Wunebald and
Wilibald[433].
Nothing is preserved concerning this sister except a reference to her
existence, which is contained in the accounts of the acts of Wilibald and
Wunebald written by a nun at Heidenheim, whose name also is not
recorded[434]. These accounts offer many points of interest. The nun who
wrote them was of Anglo-Saxon origin; her style is highly involved and
often falls short of the rules of grammar, but she had possession of
interesting information, and she was determined to impart it. It has been
noticed that her writing varies according to whether she is setting down
facts or dilating on them; for she is concise enough when it is a question
of facts only, but when it comes to description she falls into the spirit
of Anglo-Saxon literature and introduces alliteration into her Latin and
launches forth into panegyric. She came from England to Germany, as she
tells us, shortly before the death of Wunebald (c. 765), and experiences
of an unpleasant nature led her to expect that her writings would not pass
without criticism.
‘I am but a woman,’ she says[435], ‘weak on account of the frailty of my
sex, neither supported by the prerogative of wisdom nor sustained by the
consciousness of great power, yet impelled by earnestness of purpose,’ and
she sets to work to give a description of the life of Wilibald and the
journey which he made to Palestine, parts of which she took down from his
dictation, for at the close of her account she says that she wrote it from
Wilibald’s narrative in the monastery of Heidenheim in the presence of
deacons and of some of Wilibald’s pupils who were witnesses to the fact.
‘This I say,’ she adds, ‘that no one may again declare this to be
nonsense.’
The account she gives of Wilibald’s experiences contains one of the
earliest descriptions written in northern Europe of a journey to
Palestine, and modern writers have commented on it as a curious literary
monument of the time. Interest in descriptions of the Holy Land was
increasing. Besides early references to such journeys in the letters of St
Jerome who described how Paula went from Rome to Jerusalem and settled
there in the 4th century, we hear how Adamnan came to the court of King
Ealdfrith of Northumbria about the year 701 and laid before him his book
on Holy Places[436] which he had taken down from the narrative of bishop
Arculf who had made the pilgrimage, but of whom we know nothing more. But
Adamnan’s account is bald and its interest is poor compared to this
description of the adventures of Wilibald and of what he saw on his
travels.
The nun prefaces her account of the journey by telling us of Wilibald’s
origin. She describes how he fell ill as a child, how his parents vowed
him to a religious life if he were spared, and how in conformity with
their promise they took him to the abbey of Waltham at the age of five,
where Wilibald continued studying till manhood. We are not told to what
his love of travel was due. He determined to go south and persuaded his
father and his brother Wunebald to accompany him. We hear how they and
their companions took boat and arrived at Rouen, how they travelled on
till they reached Lucca where the father fell ill and died, and how the
brothers pursued their journey to Rome where they spent the winter. We
hear how the heat and bad air of summer drove them away from Rome and how,
while Wunebald remained in Italy, Wilibald with a few companions pushed on
by way of Naples and Reggio and reached Catania in Sicily, where he took
boat for Ephesus and Syria. We get a good deal of information by the way
on saints and on relics, and hear of the veil of St Agatha which stayed
the eruptions of Mount Aetna, and of the Seven Sleepers of Ephesus. The
travellers experienced all kinds of hardships; thrice they were cast into
prison and liberated before their feet trod on holy ground. Then they
visited Nazareth and Chana; they gazed upon Lake Tiberias, they bathed in
the river Jordan, and finally they reached Jerusalem where they made a
long stay, broken however by several long expeditions. Each site is
described in turn, and its connection with scriptural history is pointed
out. We hear a good deal about Jerusalem, about Mount Sion, the site of
the Ascension of the Virgin, and about the site of the Nativity at
Bethlehem. It was ‘once a cave, now it is a square house cut into the
rock,’ over which a little chapel is built. We also hear of various
monasteries where the travellers stayed in coming and going. Finally they
travelled to Tyre, where they took boat to Constantinople. There they made
a lengthy stay and then journeyed on to Italy and visited the Isle of
Lipari, where Wilibald desired to get a glimpse of the crater, which is
designated as hell, the thought of which called forth a fine piece of
description from the nun.
‘And when they arrived there they left the boat to see what sort of a hell
it was. Wilibald especially was curious about what was inside the crater,
and would have climbed the summit of the mountain to the opening; but he
was prevented by cinders which rose from the black gulf and had sunk
again; as snow settles falling from the sky and the heavenly heights in
white thick masses, so these cinders lay heaped on the summit of the
mountain and prevented Wilibald’s ascent. But he saw a blackness and a
terrible column of flame projected upwards with a noise like thunder from
the pit, and he saw the flame and the smoky vapour rising to an
immeasurable height. He also beheld pumice-stone which writers use[437]
thrown up from the crater with the flame, and it fell into the sea and was
again cast up on the shore; men there gathered it up to bring it away.’
When Wilibald and his companion Tidberht reached Rome they had been absent
seven years, and their travels had made them personages of such interest
that the Pope interviewed them. Wilibald at the Pope’s suggestion agreed
to join Boniface in Germany. Wunebald, the brother whom he had left in
Italy, had met Boniface in Rome in 738 and had travelled back with him.
Wilibald also settled in Germany and was made bishop of the new see of
Eichstätt. Here he came across the nun, who was so fired by his account of
his travels that she undertook to record them.
After she had finished this work she was moved to write a short account of
the life of Wunebald[438]. It is written in a similar style and contains
valuable historical information, but it has not the special interest of
the other account. Wunebald on coming into Germany had first stayed at
Mainz, then he travelled about with Boniface, and finally he settled at
Heidenheim where he made a clearance in the midst of a wooded wilderness
and dwelt there with a few younger men. He was active in opposing
idolatrous customs, but does not appear to have been satisfied with his
work. He died about the year 765, and his brother Wilibald, bishop of
Eichstätt, and his sister, of whom mention is now made for the first time,
came to his monastery to assist at the translation of his corpse. The
sister took charge of his settlement, apparently for a time only, for the
monastery at Heidenheim continued to be under the rule of an abbot and
there is no evidence that women belonged to it.
It was from this sister that the nun received her information about
Wunebald. The theory has been put forward that she was the same person as
a nun who came to Heidenheim and was there miraculously cured. However
that may be, this literary nun is the last Anglo-Saxon woman of whom we
have definite information who came abroad in connection with Boniface. Her
name is lost, it is as the anonymous nun of Heidenheim that she has come
down to posterity.