Ancient dogs and caltrops

A Paean to Dogs in Ancient Times

Domesticated from earliest times in Greece and Italy as hunters of wild goats, deer and hares, dogs also served humans as guardians of the house and stock and as faithful companions (and bedwarmers).

Louis Frederic Schützenberger, Retour d'Ulysse 1884

Louis Frederic Schützenberger, Retour d’Ulysse 1884

The Greek hero Odysseus, after ten years of fighting in the Trojan wars, then ten more of struggles to return home, disguised himself as a beggar in order to surprise the suitors who were pressing his wife Penelope to accept one of them in his absence, presumed dead, while she resolutely cherished his memory. His dog, Argos, at an implausibly advanced age, fallen on evil times, neglected, ill, dozing on a manure heap, pricked up his ears when he heard a familiar step. He wagged his tail and dropped his ears when his master, incognito, had to pass by and ignore the overjoyed dog, who died. Heartbroken that he couldn’t acknowledge his dog’s greeting without betraying his identity, Odysseus wiped away a tear.

Homer and Hesiod mention sheepdogs and watchdogs: the Molossian Hound of Epirus, mastiff-like, Laconian, was the subject of this post of mine some time ago (the Jennings Dog in the British Museum, via Flaubert and Alcibiades).

The Jennings Dog at the British Museum

The Jennings Dog at the British Museum

Xenophon (ca 430-354 BC), better known as a historian and philosopher, also wrote a treatise on the value of hunting as a suitable training for the soldier, for it makes men sober, pious and upright; in this Cynegetikos he extols the Castorian and the Vulpine hounds. The dispositions and ailments of hounds are delineated, and he describes how they should be trained and cared for. If the hare is caught at the first attempt, he says, the hounds should be brought back in to begin the search for another, he says. Psyche, Pluck, Spigot, Hilary, Yelp, Strongboy, Bodkin, all are suitable names, being short and indicative of hounds’ temperaments and qualities.

 

Caltrop

Caltrop

The boar requires a great deal more effort, and stronger nets. Not so much a pursuit as a fight. Dogs are often injured or killed in the boar hunt. Caltrops are useful in the chase, if unsportsmanlike. Darius used them against Alexander at the battle of Gaugamela, Persia. They served to slow the advances of horses, war elephants and humans. The soft feet of camels are particularly susceptible.

Iron caltrops have been found in Virginia that date from the seventeenth century.

In Italy, Umbrian hunters and sheepdogs were renowned as keen-nosed but lacking in courage. Salentine and shaggy-coated Etruscan dogs lacked speed but were keen-nosed.

Lucius Columella (born in Cádiz, ended up writing about agriculture – and a treatise on trees — in Italy, d. ca 70 AD) praises in his Res rustica the incorruptible dog, steadfast avenger or defender (rather poorly scanned translation into English here). The shepherd prefers a white dog because it is then unlikely to be mistaken at dawn or dusk for a wolf. The farmdog, on the other hand, has a more alarming appearance when approached by an evil man in daytime if he be black, with a sonorous bark and growl. At night, however, he can approach the crafty thief with greater security. The joints of its feet and its claws, which the Greeks call drakes, should be very large, like its head.

The Cú faoil or Irish wolfhound, as its name suggests, was used in the hunting of wolves Cuchalain better picbut also as a war dog. It has an ancient history. Names of kings and warriors often had the prefix ‘Cú’ as a sign that they were worthy of the loyalty of a brave hound. The Irish hero Cúchalain won his name by slaying, when he was a child, the ferocious guard dog of Culain, in self defence, and being taken on as replacement.

As early as 279 BC they may have fought alongside Celtic tribes that sacked Delphi. Caesar in the ‘Gallic Wars’ mentions them, and in 391 a Roman Consul named Symmachus writes about receiving as a gift seven ‘canes Scotici’ for fighting lions and bears, to the wonder of all Rome.

From Gaston Phoebus, Le livre de chasse, 13C

From Gaston Phoebus, Le livre de chasse, 13C

Associated with royalty, these dogs were highly prized. Around 210 King John gave Gelert to the Welsh prince Llewellyn. He is the subject of an ancient folktale motif that’s found in stories from around the world, and the 13C hagiographical legend of the Holy Greyhound, St Guinefort; sadly I’ve mislaid my copy of the superb study by Jean-Claude Schmitt of this bizarre cult, which survived into the 1930s in France, despite the opposition of the church. (The dog-headed saint, or Cynocephalos, is Christopher). In the legend this faithful hound was rashly killed by its owner, who believed the dog had mauled his son, when in fact it had bravely saved him from a serpent’s attack (or in some versions, a wolf’s). When he hears his son’s cries, he realises his mistake and buries the dog with great reverence. The grave became a pilgrimage site and was believed to benefit the health of children if taken there by their parents.

By the way, Lesbia’s sparrow was probably a bullfinch.

(All images are in the public domain)

Holy Unmercenaries/Agioi Anargyroi, pt II

Royal Soc. of Medicine coat of arms, Cosmas and Damian supporting

Royal Soc. of Medicine coat of arms, Cosmas and Damian supporting (from the RSM website): see penultimate paragraph below

In my last post I wrote about the Agioi Anargyroi – the Holy Unmercenaries –  saints and martyrs who performed charitable works, usually as physicians, but who accepted no payment for their services. This antagonised the local pagans, who persecuted them and finally executed them – but not before extraordinary miracles were witnessed, such as surviving gruesome tortures and thwarted attempts to despatch them. The last members of this cohort are my favourites, not least because one of them provides the name for one of the spookiest characters ever to appear on film, in the ‘Omen’ series – the twin brother physician-saints, Cosmas and Damian, who died c. 287:

 

STS. COSMAS and DAMIAN were brothers,

Fra Angelico, Sepulchring scene, c. 1438-43

Fra Angelico, Sepulchring scene

and born in Arabia, but studied the sciences in Syria, and became eminent for their skill in physic. Being Christians, and full of that holy temper of charity in which the spirit of our divine religion consists,

The saints illuminated in the Heures d'Anne de Bretagne, a 16th century book of hours, showing Cosmas and Damian with their usual attributes of medical instrument and jar, symbolising their dispensing cures as physicians

The saints illuminated in the Heures d’Anne de Bretagne, a 16th century book of hours, showing Cosmas and Damian with their usual attributes of medical instrument or jars, symbolising their dispensing cures as physicians

they practised their profession with great application and wonderful success, but never took any fee. They were loved and respected by the people on account of the good offices received from their charity, and for their zeal for the Christian faith, which they took every opportunity to propagate. When the persecution of Diocletian began to rage, it was impossible for persons of so distinguished a character to lie concealed. They were therefore apprehended by the order of Lysias, Governor of Cilicia, and after various torments were bound hand and foot and thrown into the sea. (From the online version of Lives of the Saints, by Alban Butler, Benziger Bros. ed. [1894] entry for Sept. 27, their feast day or ‘dies natalis’ – day of rebirth into heaven – in the Roman calendar until 1969, when it was moved to the 26th. The whole group is commemorated in the Eastern church in the Synaxis of the Unmercenary Physicians on the first Sunday in November. It celebrates three pairs of saints with this name, with feast days on 1 July, 17 October and 1 November.)

Martyrdom of Cosmas, Damian and brothers, N. French altarpiece, c. 1480, Brooklyn Museum

Martyrdom of Cosmas, Damian and brothers, N. French altarpiece, c. 1480, Brooklyn Museum

A longer version of their legend full of supernatural wonders (eg when the pagans try to stone the brothers to death, the stones recoil and hit the throwers) and  with a typically fanciful etymology of their names (more allegorical and edifying than linguistically accurate)  is found in the hugely popular hagiographical compilation Legenda Aurea by Jacobus de Voragine, c. 1260. This legendary survives in nearly 1000 MSS and was soon translated into most European languages; one of Caxton’s first printed books was an English version, ‘The Golden Legend’, of 1483. The 1900 translation by F.S. Ellis can be consulted here.

Fra Angelico, saving of Cosmas and Damian, 1438-43

Fra Angelico, saving of Cosmas and Damian

 

The legends of Cosmas and Damian (eg by Voragine) include claims that their benevolence even extended to their treating sick animals, as well as people such as this woman:

Fra Angelico, Healing of Palladia, c. 1438-40

Fra Angelico, Healing of Palladia

Once, the saints were summoned to a grievously ill woman named Palladia, whom all the doctors had refused to treat because of her seemingly hopeless condition. Through faith and through the fervent prayer of the holy brothers, the Lord healed the deadly disease and Palladia got up from her bed perfectly healthy and giving praise to God. In gratitude for being healed and wishing to give them a small gift, Palladia went quietly to Damian. She presented him with three eggs and said, “Take this small gift in the Name of the Holy Life-Creating Trinity, the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.” Hearing the Name of the Holy Trinity, the unmercenary one did not dare to refuse.

When St Cosmas learned what had happened, became very sad, for he thought that his brother had broken their strict vow. On his deathbed he gave instructions that his brother should not be buried beside him. St Damian also died shortly afterward, and everyone wondered where St Damian’s grave should be. But through the will of God a miracle occurred. A camel, which the saints had treated for its wildness, spoke with a human voice saying that they should have no doubts about whether to place Damian beside Cosmas, because Damian did not accept the eggs from the woman as payment, but out of respect for the Name of God. The venerable relics of the holy brothers were buried together at Thereman (Mesopotamia). [From the Orthodox Church in America website, entry for Cosmas, possibly one of the other, synonymous physician saints – hagiography isn’t always a precise science.)

Another popular feature in the miraculous stories recounting the twins’ thaumaturgical powers is this one:

Leg-grafting miracle, German, 1515

Leg-grafting miracle, assisted by angels German, 1515

Felix, the eighth pope after S. Gregory, did do make a noble church at Rome of the saints Cosmo and Damian, and there was a man which served devoutly the holy martyrs in that church, who a canker had consumed all his thigh. And as he slept, the holy martyrs Cosmo and Damian, appeared to him their devout servant, bringing with them an instrument and ointment of whom that one said to that other: Where shall we have flesh when we have cut away the rotten flesh to fill the void place? Then that other said to him: There is an Ethiopian that this day is buried in the churchyard of S. Peter ad Vincula, which is yet fresh, let us bear this thither, and take we out of that morian’s flesh and fill this place withal. And so they fetched the thigh of the sick man and so changed that one for that

leg-grafting, alternative version, attrib. to Master of Los Balbases c. 1495, after Alonso de Sedano, Wellcome Library, London

A verger’s dream: leg-grafting, alternative version, attrib. to Master of Los Balbases c. 1495, after Alonso de Sedano, Wellcome Library, London

other. And when the sick man awoke and felt no pain, he put forth his hand and felt his leg without hurt, and then took a candle, and saw well that it was not his thigh, but that it was another. And when he was well come to himself, he sprang out of his bed for joy, and recounted to all the people how it was happed to him, and that which he had seen in his sleep, and how he was healed. And they sent hastily to the tomb of the dead man, and found the thigh of him cut off, and that other thigh in the tomb instead of his. (From the Ellis edition of ‘The Golden Legend’ online, cited above.)

Their brothers Anthimus, Leontius, and Euprepius are reputed to have been martyred with them. The twins’ relics were

Fra Angelico, Healing of Justinian, 1438-40, Museo di San Marco, Florence

Fra Angelico, Healing of Justinian

translated to the city of Cyrrhus in Syria, and a number of miracles were said to have been effected by them. The emperor Justinian I (527-65) was cured of illness through the intercession of these saints, and in gratitude he restored the city, dedicated it in their name, and re-translated their relics to Constantinople. There he built a sumptuous church also in their name.

Pope Felix presents the basilica to Cosmas and Damian

Pope Felix presents the basilica to Cosmas and Damian, Tuscan school, early 1600s

The veneration of these important Unmercenaries is also attested by the rededication of the Bibliotheca Pacis in Rome as the basilica Santi Cosma i Damiano by Pope Felix IV (526-30). The sixth-century frescos in this church survive today.

Munich shrine

Munich shrine

Fra Angelico, Martyrdom of Cosmas and Damian

Fra Angelico, Martyrdom of Cosmas and Damian

Skulls reputed to be those of Cosmas and Damian were translated in the tenth century from Rome to sites in Germany and subsequently in 1581 to a convent of Nuns of St Clare in Madrid. In 1381 the bishop of Bremen is said to have miraculously rediscovered their skulls – a duplication not unprecedented in the cults of relics of saints (the medieval Catholic church provided convenient explanations for such anomalies), and an elaborate shrine to house them was constructed in 1420. It’s now on display in Munich. Yet another pair of skulls said to have been found in the fifteenth century was enshrined in Vienna cathedral.

Fra Angelico, San Marco altarpiece: Cosmas and Damian kneel in foreground

Fra Angelico, San Marco altarpiece: Cosmas and Damian kneel in foreground

Cosimo de’ Medici the Elder commissioned the Dominican friar Fra Angelico to paint an altarpiece for the church and monastery of San Marco, which was rededicated to Cosmas and Damian, as well as to St Mark; it was completed some time between 1438-43. The central panel is a portrait of the Virgin and child surrounded by saints; Cosmas kneels in the foreground left looking out at the viewer, and is said to be a likeness of Cosimo himself, while Damian kneels alongside him to the right. There were nine predella panels

Fra Angelico: Cosmas and Damian before Lisius

Fra Angelico: Cosmas and Damian before Lisius

depicting scenes from the twin saints’ legend; two of them are still in what is now the San Marco Museum, the others are in the Louvre and elsewhere. Some are incorporated into this blogpost.

 

 

 

 

Statue of St Cosmas, W front Salisbury Cathedral

Statue of St Cosmas, W front Salisbury Cathedral, a Victorian restoration of dubious attribution

There are many churches dedicated to Cosmas and Damian across the world, but only five in England:

Blean , church of St Cosmus [sic] and St Damian, and Challock, both in Kent, probably dedicated through association with the saints’ popularity at nearby Canterbury Cathedral, which in the fourteenth century possessed a feretory containing relics of the twins;

Keymer, Sussex;

Sherrington, Wiltshire, Church of St Cosmo [sic] and St Damian;

Stretford church

Stretford church

Stretford, Herefordshire.

Their cult never seemed to catch on in England, though there were relics in the cathedrals of Canterbury (noted above), Salisbury and elsewhere. For a full scholarly account of the English cult and the five churches above, with reference to iconographical and other representations, see the account here by Leslie G. Matthews. He points out, for example, that they appear in several gilds’ and associations’ coats of arms: Barbers, Surgeons, etc. When thirteen societies amalgamated into the Royal Society of Medicine in 1907, its coat of arms depicted the two saints as supporters – the physician Cosmas (dexter) holding an albarello (an apothecary’s medicine jar), and the surgeon Damian (sinister) holding a surgical instrument (image at the start of this post).

In the church I visited in SE Cyprus dedicated to the Agioi Anargyroi, and which inspired these two blogposts, I neglected to take any pictures of the icons of the saints, so I’ll have to rely on the online examples reproduced here, all in the public domain via WikiCommons except for the coat of arms, from the RSM website.

Painted apse ceiling of the church of Cosmas and Damian, Rome, 7th century

Painted apse ceiling of the church of Cosmas and Damian, Rome, 7th century

 

 

 

 

 

 

From the Menologion of Basil II, c. 1000, Byzantine MS

From the Menologion of Basil II, c. 1000, Byzantine (Constantinople), one of 430 illuminations of saints in this liturgical synaxary and calendar, MS Cod. Vat. gr. 1613, probably the first of two volumes, second now lost

 

Snakes, martyr medics and holy shrinks. The Holy Unmercenaries, Agioi Anargyroi

This summer I had a short holiday in SE Cyprus, near to where I’d lived as a child when my dad was stationed there during his army days. I can barely remember that time, apart from attending my first primary school, eating watermelon grown in our garden, and falling into a lime-pit…

I was intrigued by the name of a small church I came across: it was dedicated to ‘Agioi Anargyroi’. I knew from my postgrad research into medieval English hagiography that the first element was Greek for ‘saints’ or ‘holy men’, but had to look up ‘Anargyroi’.

Icon of Sampson the Hospitable

Icon of Sampson the Hospitable

It means ‘Holy Unmercenaries’.  The epithet is applied to a group of saints who performed charitable works, usually as Christian physicians treating the poor and vulnerable, but without taking any payment for their services.

First I’d like to consider the central structure and themes of these legends, which are all essentially similar. The polar opposition between the representatives of Christianity and paganism is clearly dramatised in these narratives, which are didactic and salutary rather than biographical. Their purpose is to edify the faithful who read or hear them (Latin ‘legenda’ means ‘to be read)’: these Acta (legends of the early Christian martyrs) and Lives of Saints would have initially been read aloud in monastery refectories or church services, and later in private devotion. The misguided forces of evil and paganism are seen defeated by the superior forces of Christianity, embodied in the saints. By suffering martyrdom (‘martyr’ is Greek for witness) the saints symbolically transcend persecution and suffering and are ‘crowned’ through their ultimate sacrifice (so-called ‘red martyrdom’; Jesus can be seen as the archetype). After the early centuries of persecution, when Christianity became the state religion, witness was enacted through acts of extreme asceticism and eremitism, as seen in the stories of the Desert Fathers (and Mothers, like my own research subject, Mary of Egypt) – known as ‘white martyrdom’.

The Unmercenaries’ legends follow a similar narrative pattern to the Acta: the protagonists set up unpaid charitable or medical practice in the face of local opposition by pagans, are arrested, taunted and tortured in an attempt to force them to apostatise. They heroically survive various gruesome methods of attempted execution, or divine intervention thwarts the attempts (the iconographical attribute of St Lawrence is a griddle, on which he was being roasted; in a rare example of dark hagiographical humour he told his tormentors that he needed turning over – he was done on one side…) often resulting in the conversion from paganism to Christianity by some of the impressed onlookers. Their acta are commemorated thereafter by the faithful on the anniversary (or ‘feast day’) not of their birth but of their death, which is seen as a rebirth .

This in a way is the underpinning dynamic of the narrative trajectory of heroes in much popular secular fiction, from Harry Potter to The Hobbit: overcoming daunting powers of darkness and tricky deception, trial and temptation to emerge transformed and delivered at the narrative’s end. It’s also the template for many traditional tales and fairy stories.

The Holy Unmercenaries include:

Zenaida (or Zenais) of Tarsus (in Cilicia, modern Turkey) and Philonella (feast day

Zenaida and Philonella

Zenaida and Philonella: Menologion of Basil II, c. 1000 AD

Oct. 11), sisters who were the first Christian physicians after the evangelist Luke, possibly related to the apostle Paul. They lived an ascetic life in a cave near Demetriada, Thessaly, a region known for its shrines to Asclepius (Aesculapius to the Romans), the Greek god of medicine, who like his father Apollo bore the epithet ‘Paean’ (healer), and was father of several daughters who were personifications of aspects of healing, such as Hygieia (hygiene) and Panacea (universal remedy). He was trained in the science of medicine by the learned and cultured centaur

Chiron and Achilles

Education of Achilles by Chiron: fresco from Herculaneum, Mus. Arch.-Naz., Naples

Chiron – a wonderful kourotrophic character (usually in early coroplastic iconography a nurturing/nursing maternal deity; Hathor is an Ancient Egyptian example  – the Madonna and child is the archetypal Christian equivalent), mentor and tutor to numerous Greek culture heroes such as Achilles and Jason, even Heracles — to whom (Chiron) I intend to return at a later date in a blogpost about the battle of the Lapiths and the centaurs – the centauromachy! His image decorates the cap badge of the Royal Army Veterinary Corps and the labels of Rémy Martin cognac bottles: versatile creature.

The term ‘Theraputae’, a Latinised version of the Greek, signifies servant or worshipper of a god (one of the first was Hippocrates). Those who attended on Asclepius in a temple or other building dedicated in his name, known as an Asclepieion, transmitted the god’s healing powers through unusual rituals – anathema to Christians, who saw these as pagan superstition. People suffering from medical ailments would spend the night in wards in an Asclepieion where the non-venomous Aesculapian snakes roamed

Asclepius with his rod

Asclepius with his rod

(can snakes ‘roam’?) freely. The rod of Asclepius – a stick with such a snake entwined – is still the symbol of medicine. The caduceus has two snakes, and has become mistakenly associated since the nineteenth century with medicine. It was the symbol of Hermes or Mercury, and is therefore connected with eloquence, communication and commerce and, by extension, thieving and trickery; this image features in the cap badge of my brother’s old army regiment, the Royal Corps of Signals, to indicate their area of expertise.

Hermes with caduceus: cap badge of the Royal Corps of Signals

Hermes with caduceus: cap badge of the Royal Corps of Signals

Asclepieion inmates were encouraged to report to the theraputae the nature of their dreams, the interpretation of which formed the basis for the rituals of healing treatment. In some Asclepieions sacred dogs were deployed to lick the wounds of the sick. It’s not surprising that the Unmercenaries deprecated such rituals, although Freud would doubtless have no problem with the interpretation of dreams as a basis for therapy.

Physicians in this region charged extortionate fees in treating their rich patients. As in all of these legends of the Unmercenaries, the sisters upset the pagan rivals by administering their healing free of charge, and according to some versions of their story were stoned to death as a consequence. Zenaida went on, interestingly, to specialise in psychiatry, especially the treatment of clinical depression. A holy shrink…

Hermione: Menologion of Basil II

Hermione: Menologion of Basil II

Hermione, a Palestinian of the first century AD, feast day Sep. 4, founded a free clinic in Ephesus. (Hermione, like St Lawrence, was seared on a griddle; she was then boiled in oil in a cauldron, but felt no pain). Her legend has a variant of the topos often appended in martyr narratives: the two servants sent to behead her outside the city begin their task without giving her time to pray. Consequently their hands wither, rendering them incapable, they repent and convert to Christianity, and are happily martyred along with her.

I’ll skim over the next few in order to focus next time on Cosmas and Damian. The narrative elements outlined above are found in most of these legends:

Tryphon: Serbian orthodox icon

Tryphon: Serbian orthodox icon

Tryphon of Phrygia (modern Turkey, died c. 250, feast day 10 Nov.) is the patron saint, among other things, of gardeners and winegrowers, and he is invoked, like most of these Unmercenaries, to counteract the destructive forces of nature, either visibly in the form of pests like locusts and rodents, or invisibly as disease or clinical malady.

Pantaleon (or Panteleimon in the east: his name means ‘mercy for everyone’) is invoked against the usual unwelcome suspects (locusts, headaches, consumption,accidents – and loneliness), but

Panteleimon: icon from St Catherine's monastery

Panteleimon: icon from St Catherine’s monastery

he is also, strangely, patron of midwives and livestock; he’s said to be a helper of crying children. Useful to know. He’s one of the Fourteen Holy Helpers, who became particularly popular during a Rhineland outbreak of Black Death in the fourteenth century. The sailors who mutinied on the Russian battleship Potemkin in 1905 renamed the vessel after him.

The cohort is completed by Thalalaeus (d. 284, another Cilician martyr) and the ‘thaumaturgoi anargyroi’ (wonderworker unmercenaries) Cyrus and John (d. 304 or

Cyrus and John: Menologion of Basil II

Cyrus and John: Menologion of Basil II

311); they are invoked by the faithful who have trouble sleeping. Sampson the Hospitable (died c. 530) was particularly venerated in Russia (and had a St Petersburg cathedral dedicated in his name) after Peter the Great defeated the Swedish in the Battle of Poltava on his feast day, June 27, 1709.

That leaves my favourites: Cosmas and Damian, about whom I shall post soon, in order to keep this piece down to manageable proportions.

As always, images are in the public domain via Wikimedia Commons

 

St Cuthbert’s ‘Life’ by Bede: Part II

 

BL Yates Thompson MS 26, f.17

BL Yates Thompson MS 26, f.17

From Ch 7 of Bede’s Life of Cuthbert: It chanced that Cuthbert was appointed to the office of receiving strangers, and he is said to have entertained an angel of the Lord who came to make trial of his piety. For, as he went very early in the morning, from the interior of the monastery into the strangers’ cell, he found there seated a young person, whom he considered to be a man, and entertained as such. He gave him water to wash his hands; he washed his feet himself, wiped them, and humbly dried them in his bosom; after which he entreated him to remain till the third hour of the day and take some breakfast, lest, if he should go on his journey fasting, he might suffer from hunger and the cold of winter. For he took him to be a man, and thought that a long journey by night and a severe fall of snow had caused him to turn in thither in the morning to rest himself. The other replied, that he could not tarry, for the home to which he was hastening lay at some distance.

Cuthbert exhorted the visitor to eat, but when he returned with freshly baked bread, found him gone, having left no footprints in the fresh snow.

From f.18: miraculous loaves

From f.18: miraculous loaves

The man of God was astonished, and revolving the circumstances in his mind, put back the table in the dining-room. Whilst doing so, he perceived a most surprising odour and sweetness; and looking round to see from what it might proceed, he saw three white loaves placed there, of unusual whiteness and excellence. Trembling at the sight, he said within himself, ” I perceive that it was an angel of the Lord whom I entertained, and that he came to feed us, not to be fed himself. Behold, he hath brought such loaves as this earth never produced; they surpass the lily in whiteness, the rose in odour, and honey in taste. They are, therefore, not produced from this earth, but are sent from paradise. No wonder that he rejected my offer of earthly food, when he enjoys such bread as this in heaven.” The man of God was stimulated by this powerful miracle to be more zealous still in performing works of piety; and with his deeds did increase upon him also the grace of God. From that time he often saw and conversed with angels, and when hungry was fed with unwonted food furnished direct from God.

f.26

f.26: at sea

As I posted last time, there are several stories in Bede’s Life that relate how animals or birds fetch Cuthbert food, or else he finds it miraculously provided for him. Ch. 11, for example, describes how he prayed for calm weather and the tempest subsided, allowing him and his brethren to sail safely home. On the shore beforehand   they found three pieces of freshly cut dolphin flesh laid out for them to eat.

 

In Ch. 19 he admonished birds

f.42

f.42

who were eating his barley crop which he had sown by his newly built hermitage on Farne island, and the greedy birds dutifully departed for good. Bede draws from this a typical hagiographical moral, based on saintly precedent:

Thus in two miracles did this reverend servant of Christ imitate the example of two of the fathers: for, in drawing water from the rock, he followed the holy St. Benedict, who did almost the same thing, and in the same way, though more abundantly, because there were more who were in want of water. And in driving away the birds, he imitated the reverend and holy father St. Antony, who by his word alone drove away the wild asses from the garden which he had planted.

f.44

f.44

Another sign of his sympathy with the world of nature is related in the next chapter, when crows took straw from the roof of his shelter and were reproved by Cuthbert. Shortly afterwards they returned, making gestures of repentance and sorrow, and dropped at his feet a gift of hog’s lard

which the man of God used to show to the brethren who visited him, and kept to grease their shoes with; testifying to them how earnestly they should strive after humility, when a dumb bird that had acted so insolently, hastened by prayers, lamentation, and presents, to obliterate the injury which it had done to man. Lastly, as a pattern of reformation to the human race, these birds remained for many years and built their nests in the island, and did not dare to give annoyance to any one. But let no one think it absurd to learn virtue from birds…

f.62: child cured of plague

f.62: child cured of plague

This time Bede’s moral is drawn from the Bible. Other miracles are told of the ‘obedience’ of the sea and other elements to ‘the venerable man’. He is also able to effect miraculous cures of people who are gravely ill. Even ‘brandea’ – items that have simply been in contact with his saintly body – are capable of curing the sick: his shoes, or hairs from his head, or  holy water, oil or bread.

It is a commonplace of hagiography that the telling of a saint’s miracles is calqued upon incidents in earlier Lives; this was not considered problematic in terms of verisimilitude.

f.73: death of Cuthbert

f.73: death of Cuthbert

As we have seen in this Life of Cuthbert, the author is at pains to point out parallels with biblical or  hagiographical precedents (early Lives of Gregory famously make this point). It is only in more recent years that the histor or author of a tale felt the need to be original: Shakespeare didn’t usually invent his plots. On the contrary, weaving your narrative from strands of already familiar storylines was considered not just normal but desirable.

Bede, Life and Miracles of St. Cuthbert, in a volume entitled Ecclesiastical History of the English Nation,. trans. J.A.  Giles, Everyman’s Library 479,(London: J.M. Dent; New York: E.P.  Dutton, 1910), 286-349; all quotations in this post are taken from the online version found here. All illustrations taken from the digital collection at the British Library, from BL Yates Thompson 26.

St Cuthbert’s ‘Life’ by Bede: part I

 

St Cuthbert, from BL Yates Thompson MS 26, f. 1v

St Cuthbert, from BL Yates Thompson MS 26, f. 1v

Today, 20th March, is the feast day of St Cuthbert (c. 634-687), the Anglo-Saxon monk, bishop and hermit. The Catholic tradition is to celebrate a saint’s feast on the day of their death, not of their birth, in the belief that this is the beginning of their immortal life.  I’ve used a variety of sources here, but chiefly the prose Life in Latin by Bede, written c. 721, for Cuthbert’s cult revived after the discovery of his incorrupt body when it was elevated from its grave eleven years after his death.

 

Anglo-Saxon England's kingdoms

Anglo-Saxon England’s kingdoms

Cuthbert was born only a decade after the conversion of King Eadwine, and Christianity struggled to gain ascendancy over paganism in the kingdom throughout Cuthbert’s lifetime. Cuthbert became a monk after seeing a vision of St Aidan, founder of Lindisfarne monastery, being transported to heaven by angels.  He later discovered that Aidan had died at the moment of his vision. He was initially instructed by Irish monks at Melrose Abbey, a daughter house of Lindisfarne, now in Scotland, but then part of the Anglo-Saxon kingdom of Northumbria. He later became prior there, and subsequently at Lindisfarne itself.

A magnificent illuminated MS copy from the last quarter of the twelfth century contains a

Scribe, possibly Bede, same MS, f. 2

Scribe, possibly Bede, same MS, f. 2

copy of Bede’s Life. This is BL Yates Thompson 26, and all of the images of Cuthbert’s life in this post are from this MS (link here to the BL Catalogue description and all the illuminations).

Bede relates many miracles attributed to Cuthbert. The most delightful stories indicate Cuthbert’s affinity with the natural world. In one he tells how one night he refused the offer of food from a generous hostess, but insisted that his horse be well fed. He rode on next day, but was obliged to spend the night in a derelict shepherd’s hut, no houses being nearby:

f. 14, from Ch. 5 of Bede's Life of Cuthbert

f. 14, from Ch. 5 of Bede’s Life of Cuthbert

 

but suddenly, as he was  singing a psalm, he saw his horse lift up his head and pull out  some straw from the roof, and among the straw there fell down  a linen cloth folded up, with something in it. When he had ended  his prayers, wishing to see what this was, he came and opened  the cloth, and found in it half of a loaf of bread, still hot,  and some meat, enough of both to serve him for a single meal  (from the English translation of Bede’s Life by J.A. Giles, found online here; all quotations here are from this translation.)

F. 28v: eagle brings him food

F. 28v: eagle brings him food

The description of this scene in the BL catalogue describes the food as bread and cheese (the meaning of ‘meat’ was originally food of any kind, not just flesh; Giles appears to be using the word in its original, broader sense here). Other stories tell how food was brought to him miraculously by an eagle and ravens. Once he found a freshly cut up dolphin, ready to be cooked for him.

My favourite is that which relates of his practice of immersing himself secretly all night in the icy waters of the North Sea, ‘praising God’. A fellow monk witnessed this one night, and saw how, when Cuthbert emerged on the shore to pray again:

[two] otters, came up from the sea,

Otters dry his feet, bottom right of f. 24

Otters dry his feet, bottom right of f. 24

and, lying down before him  on the sand, breathed upon his feet, and wiped them with their  hair after which, having received his blessing, they returned  to their native element.

 

Always a zealous preacher, he acquired a reputation as a great healer and visionary, although he favoured the ascetic life. He was given permission by his abbot to retire to a hermitage on the island of Farne, off the Northumbrian

Builds hermitage on Farne, Ch. 27, f. 39

Builds hermitage on Farne, Ch. 27, f. 39

coast. There he lived austerely, and eventually in virtual solitude.

He was consecrated Bishop of Lindisfarne, after much resistance on his part, in 685, but just over a year later he returned to his island cell.  After his death in 687 he was buried at Lindisfarne, but with the attacks of the Viking Danes becoming ever more dangerous in the late eighth century the monks undertook a long sequence of removals of his relics, which they carried with them in a portable reliquary. Bede says that eventually the remains themselves chose a spot as final resting place that became the site of Durham cathedral.

Many miracles were attributed to him after his

Priest heals woman with holy water blessed by Cuthbert, f. 58v, ch. 29

Priest heals woman with holy water blessed by Cuthbert, f. 58v, ch. 29

death, and he was a particular inspiration to King Alfred in his struggles against the Danes. His shrine at Durham became a popular pilgrimage site, until its destruction under Henry VIII’s dissolution of the monasteries. The relics survived the usually thorough destruction work of the iconoclasts, and are still at Durham.

Cuthbert was seen as a symbol of unity in a turbulent, divided early medieval England. When the Danes settled in England and converted to Christianity even they developed a reverence for this Northumbrian ascetic. Throughout the medieval period his shrine was visited by pilgrims who came from across Christendom, many of them drawn by stories of miraculous cures effected there by the sanctity of his relics.

Body found incorrupt, f. 77

Body found incorrupt, f. 77

When his sarcophagus was reopened in 1104 his relics were removed to a new shrine behind the altar of the recently completed cathedral. Inside the coffin was a small seventh-century copy of the Gospel of St John (now known as St Cuthbert’s Gospel, BL Add MS 89000). Its decorative original goatskin binding is said to be the oldest surviving of any western MS. This magnificent book, written in an Italianate capitular uncial hand, is currently on display in Durham in an exhibition on book-binding, where it will remain until the end of 2014, when it will return to the British Library.

 

I shall add more images from these two beautiful MSS in my next post. Once again time’s winged chariot has overtaken me, and I haven’t an opportunity to proof-read this too carefully – hope there aren’t many solecisms.

St Cuthbert's Gospel, f. 51: from John, 11: 18-25

St Cuthbert’s Gospel, f. 51: from John, 11: 18-25