Bibliography:

In the previous post I alluded to Easington as an “estate” transformed into a women’s religious community under Aldred’s mother Tilwif and sister Bega, and also that it had turned to growing flax for linen production.

My efforts to describe the household and its dependent vills led into an excursus on terminology, coincident with reading Rosamond Faith and John Blair’s recent works (see bibliography at end). “Estate” and “manor” are anachronistic terms I would prefer to avoid, but vill and tun have specialized meanings in early medieval texts that may be opaque to modern readers.

Easington and its dependent vills are described in the Historia de Sancto Cuthberto (HSC) 22 as granted to one Alfred, whom I fictitiously identified as Aldred’s father.  They are listed and identified by Ted Johnson South as:

1. Easington Esingtun NZ4143 primary vill of composite estate.
2. Monk Hesleden: Seletun earlier a primary vill of a composite estate. OE sele+tun = tun with a hall.
3. Little Thorp: Thorep NZ4242.
4. Horden Hall: Horedene/Hortun NZ4242, dependent of Monk Hesleden before Easington.
5. Yoden: Iodene (now Peterlee) NZ4341. HSC 19 Geodene,dependent of Monk Hesleden before Easington. Others identify with Little Eden; some call Yoden Eden Hall.
6. Shotton: Scotun/Sceottun I NZ4139.
7. Shotton [Colliery?]: Scotun/Sceottun II NZ3940 tentative.
8. Castle Eden: Iodene Australem also Geodene. dependent of Monk Hesleden before Easington.
9. Hulam: Holum NZ4336, dependent of Monk Hesleden before Easington.
10. Hutton Henry: Hotun/Hotoun NZ4236, dependent of Monk Hesleden before Easington.
11. Twilingatun: Twinlingtun uncertain identity; guesses south of Hutton Henry; dependent of Monk Hesleden before Easington.
12. Sheraton: Scurufatun/Scrufatun NZ4435.

As you can see on the map, all are south of Easington, clustered along the coast.

In this section of the chapter on Aldred becoming a deacon at Easington in 941, I describe the household and vill management.  Probably some of these details will be spread out in the chapter, but for now I wrote it all in one place:

            For the women of Tilwif’s community, the mornings were devoted to the collective work on the looms.  Younger women and the children, fatherless orphans, shared labor customarily done by slaves, the unfree, but here freely or freed by Tilwif and Bega and dependent on the hall for their daily bread while apprenticed in a craft in the household, on the farm, or in the grain fields. Under the supervision of the beekeeper, dairywoman, shepherd, and cowman, some of these household dependents learned to care for the farm animals, bees, pigs, laying hens, cows, and sheep.  Less for meat, the dairy animals provided excellent cheeses that were the main source of protein through the winter months, along with bread. They were self-sufficient at a subsistence level, if it came to that.

            But Easington, a tun with a lord’s hall, also oversaw eleven other vills within six miles to the south that paid feorm, each with about a dozen households.  The composite vill at Easington was granted by St. Cuthbert and the bishopric of Lindisfarne to Aldred’s father Alfred 27 years ago.  This rich resource area along the coast of Northumbria included a mix of ploughlands, meadows, woodland for pigs, grazing pasture, fisheries, mills, and dairies. Collectively, they had 45 ploughteams of four oxen each tilling and cultivating land to produce grain for bread and fodder for the traction oxen and other beasts essential for survival and the basis of thegnly landed wealth. Beyond sustaining the farm households of each vill, the surplus was uplifted to support Alfred’s noble warrior household at Easington and its ecclesiastical patron, St. Cuthbert at Chester-le-Street.    

            No wonder that at Alfred’s death at Corbridge in 918, these fertile Northumbrian vills were a prime target for viking invaders turned settlers, the infamous Onlaf and Scula.  Only through the divine intervention of St. Cuthbert, was most of the land, the twelve vills of Easington without Billingham, restored to Alfred’s family.

            With his only son Aldred in the church, Tilwif and her daughter Bega turned the Easington “tun” into a religious community, supported by its dependent vills.  Unusually, Tilwif had appointed as reeve a woman, her friend Ælfwaru widow of reeve Rædwulf; their son Nothwulf, acolyte at Aldred’s baptism, had gone a-viking and been killed, so she only had her daughter Wulflæd who was in charge of the dairying.  Ælfwaru supervised Easington and kept the accounts for the production and distribution of goods across the eleven other vills with their respective reeves.

            However, the main enterprise at Easington itself was no longer grain but the production of flax for the making of linen cloth.  The free farmers (geneat, boarders, cottagers) and tenants (geburas) who lived in the nearest vills of Thorp and Horton tended the tall flax in the fields, harvested it in the spring while it was still tender, soon now.  Then they would be retting the stalks in water to loosen the fibers, a smelly business going into early summer, and then scutching the rotting mess to separate the soft fibers from the woody stems and seeds (for linseed oil?).  The women and children did the heckling, combing the long fibers out to be spun by the young women, and finally woven into fabric by the senior women of the household on large looms.

            Most of this linen, like the wool they spun from from the sheep on their vill and surrounding vills, was left undyed, a creamy color sometimes whitened for chrismals and shrouds, rituals for birth and death.  However, one of the women formerly enslaved in a Scandinavian workshop in York was expert in dyes, so she was helping them develop a small industry in brightly colored linen.  Mostly his mother preferred to supply linen to churches for vestments, altar cloths, and wall hangings, but they subsidized this charitable but not very profitable work by selling some rich linens to traders for export.

I have tried to use pre-Conquest terminology without the post-Norman feudal tenurial connotations, following Faith’s Moral Economy argument.  An Old English “tun” (sorry, no long mark) is basically an enclosed household “estate,” not a “town.”  A Latin “vill” is an agricultural resource unit, not to be confused with modern “village” as a residential zone

Blair in Building Anglo-Saxon England tends to use “tun”  almost always with the qualifier “functional” preceding it, to indicate documented place names in the landscape.  He uses “vill” exclusively to refer to a “royal vill,” although vill is the operative Latin term in the HSC, and in Domesday Book’s post-Conquest assessments (not Northumbria, though, since DB only goes through Yorkshire).

I am avoiding “hide” and using “ploughlands” as a unit of measure in terms of the number of plough teams available for grain field production, the monetary unit of measuring land productivity and wealth in terms of cattle.  My guesstimate of 45 plough teams  in the 12 vills may be wildly inaccurate.  Ted Johnson South estimates, based in part on the 12th century Boldon Book, that each vill had 12-24 households, with an average of 4 carucates.  A carucate in Domesday Book is based on what a team of 8 oxen could plough in one season, but plough teams varied in size and probably had less oxen in this era.

The latter part of the section above also gets into the making of flax, relying on the work of Banham and Faith with some recourse to Wikipedia.  A later section attempts to describe spinning, right before the section on Tilwif’s sewing of the garments in the previous post and using Gale Owen-Crocker’s work:

            Bega knew [the proverb of 3 strands] well from the craft of twisting already spun flax or wool to make a three-ply thread for a stronger weave.  Even as they sat with Chad, she had her long distaff and spindle, spinning flax into thread as she listened.  Like most women, she carried distaff and spindle, sometimes tucked in her belt, to be brought out whenever they had time and hands free, since making thread was the longest task, and once made, quickly used up in the weaving into fabric.

            Frith [a catechumen for baptism] found the rotating spindle calming, taking him back to childhood with his mother.  Watching Bega’s thread form helped him learn the words Chad recited, since as an illiteratus he must learn by ear. Bega spinning the words taught him the Creed, since he already knew the Pater noster in English from Aldred.  He was also quite adept at catching her spindle whorl, the weight that caused the thread to spin faster, when it dropped to the ground.

Thoughts, comments, corrections, and suggestions more than welcome, especially from the experts cited or misused here!

FYI:  Rosamond Faith’s book is excellent for both pre- and post-Conquest rural life and for its application of the concept of “moral economy.”  I highly recommend it.

Banham, Debby and Rosamond Faith.  Anglo-Saxon Farms and Farming. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2014.

Blair, John. Building Anglo-Saxon England.  Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2018.

Faith, Rosamond.  The Moral Economy of the Countryside:  Anglo-Saxon to Anglo-Norman England. Cambridge:  Cambridge University Press, 2020.

Historia de Sancto Cuthberto: A History of Saint Cuthbert and a Record of His Patrimony. Ed. and trans. Ted Johnson South. Anglo-Saxon Texts 2 (Cambridge: D. S. Brewer, 2002).

Owen-Crocker, Gale R. Dress in Anglo-Saxon England. Revised Edition. Woodbridge: Boydell Press, 2004.

Bibliography:

Embroidered tapestry is a misnomer, as is often pointed out regarding the Bayeux Tapestry, which is actually an embroidered wall hanging. Many people use “tapestry” generically to mean any cloth hanging on a wall. Technically, tapestries are woven fabric art, while embroidery is the art of stitching on or in already woven cloth. Another perhaps anachronistic term may be “quilt,” patchwork cloth pieces sewn together and over-stitched with a backing and sometimes filler; and appliqué, pieces of cloth sewn onto fabric.

St. Cuthbert Maniple

But all of these techniques–weaving, embroidering, quilting, appliqué, and many more variations on fabric art–were undoubtedly in use in early medieval Northumbria. It is just that the evidence for this artwork rarely survives, except under extraordinary conditions, such as St. Cuthbert’s vestments from the early tenth century (unfortunately, Durham Cathedral’s online collection does not offer images).

In the year 941 of my novel, Aldred finishes his pilgrimage with Cathroe and finally arrives home at his family’s Easington estate. Along the way, he encounters wall hangings in the church at Keswick, and again at his home church as done by his sister Bega. In addition, his mother Tilwif is making vestments for Aldred’s ordination as deacon (and for his sister Bega as deaconess, but that is another story).

However, fabric art is not my metier: like Aldred, I am a wordsmith. So I am reliant for inspiration and information on my artist sister Ann, art historian Carol Neuman de Vegvar who made an early intervention in Ohio where this all began, and the expertise of embroidery scholar Elizabeth Coatsworth as well as that doyenne of early medieval textiles, Gale Owen-Crocker (see bibliography at end). Any errors in this post are my own and subject to their very welcome corrections and additions.

First, the inspiration from my sister Ann, whose artwork hangs right where I can contemplate it at leisure. Umpteen years ago, she rashly promised to make me a quilt based on the Luke carpet page in the Lindisfarne Gosples (British Library, Cotton Nero D.IV):

Lindisfarne Gospel’s Luke carpet page

She thereby embarked on a multi-year inter-state odyssey involving a team of artisans worthy of Eadfrith and his colleagues Æthilwald and Billfrith in the Lindisfarne Gospels. I will not recount the saga here, but the result is stunning:

This is, first of all, a quilt: fabric squares pieced together in blocks matching the background in the manuscript illumination. But it also uses appliqué to place the Greek cross and the other squares “on top” of the quilt as well as at the corners. Third, it is in some sense “embroidered” with machine quilt stitching in various patterns replicating the serpentine and vine scroll work of the original. Last and the most modern, yet recalling the work of the manuscript illuminators, is the fabric pen work highlighting the vine scroll stitching: gold on the cross, blue, red, and green on the bird and beast bodies.

Clearly not all of these techniques could be used in tenth-century Northumbria, but similar effects could be had using different tools. Hence, my recourse to the historians of textiles and embroideries.

In the Keswick church, Aldred encounters a series of wall hangings telling the story of St. Kentigern, although most of them follow the story of his mother St. Thaney. Here is the description of the first wall hanging through Aldred’s eyes:

Once he looked more closely, he realized that the wall hanging was not of simple construction, woven cloth embroidered with thread.  It was more like a manuscript illumination.  As tall as a man and as wide as his arms outstretched, the base fabric was a fine white wool tightly woven, framed by tablet-woven bands with intertwined endless patterns, such as those his mother and sister made. Over the white wool was a central panel of pale yellow linen squares forming a heavenly background for the story.  But the whole center of the hanging was taken up with brightly colored figures—people and objects cut out of linen cloth—overlaid in a technique he recognized from his mother’s handiwork, appliqué.  Then over these, someone had stitched outlines, faces, and designs in various patterns his sister would be able to name—some stitches like feathers, others crosses or chains, some thick, others flat to produce the appearance of depth. This embroidery reminded Aldred of a bishop’s stole, such as Cuthbert wore even now in his wooden coffin at Chester-le-Street.  The bright silk threadwork, silver, gold, blue, red, caught the flickering light of the lamps at different angles, bringing the people to life.

I thought about adding:

Later he noticed several small gaps, as if something had been cut away.  When he asked about them, he was told that bright gems and flat gold crosses had been removed to pay off the Vikings and prevent them from ripping the tapestries from the walls.

Or maybe they originally used gold and silver wire, since these wire techniques are found in Scandinavia, so I could have the artisan learn the craft from local Scandinavian women?

For the Easington church, I have his sister Bega designing and creating with other women the Luke carpet page. Here is Aldred’s first encounter with it:

     Aldred traced his finger over the interlaced beasts and birds on the wall hanging, flora and fauna in shades of blue, red, and green outlined in yellow.  His sister Bega had created a wonder greater than those embroidered cloths he had seen at Keswick church.  Not that the materials Bega used were superior—she had sewn it with rags from old clothes and leftover scraps of textiles from the loom, embroidered over with dyed threads, no fine gold thread here.

            No, what was amazing to Aldred was that she had recreated with precision one of the cross pages from the Lindisfarne Gospel book at Chester-le-Street, down to the last detail of colored squares and bird heads.  He recognized it as soon as he had entered the side door of the Easington church and saw it hanging opposite on the north wall.  The Gospel of Luke.  Not the size of a book page, but the size of a man.

….

            Standing back now from the embroidered cloth, Aldred’s eyes blurred and refocused.  What had stood out to him when he first walked in to the church was the golden equilateral cross dominating the center.  When he had come closer, he had realized that Bega had made this Greek style cross out of bright yellow silk with dense red interlace embroidery, to give the appearance of shimmering gold.  But after he had stepped up to the tapestry, his eyes were drawn to the birds and beasts in the rectangular boxes surrounding the cross, tracing his finger over the interlace just as he had done as a boy with Bega, examining the endless knotwork on the family horn, and on the many stone crosses he had encountered since then. 

            Now that he stood a few feet away from the textile, it was the ground of white and blue diamond squares alternating on red that rose to the surface, while the squared cross and boxes sewn on top faded into the background.

            He tried to recall the manuscript image in his mind’s eye.  He had not really noticed the colored squares before when contemplating the cross on a parchment page, but in textile they seemed to come alive.  The blue squares suddenly swam before his eyes, and then the white, as if he were looking at a mosaic pavement, like the Romans made, but under water.

            Focusing on one set, he realized that each of the larger squares not only combined with each other to form a bigger pattern of multicolored diamonds, but each colored block was made up of smaller squares of fabric sewn together, including the red squares fitted between them.  Moreover, the blue, red, and white fabrics varied in color and texture, probably because they were made out of scraps of cloth, a mix of wool and finer linen.  He reached out and touched one of the faded blue squares.  It reminded him of an old woolen tunic of his father’s that had been made into a robe for him as a boy of 7 when he was sent to Chester-le-Street for his education.  In fact he vividly remembered wearing that faded and too-short blue robe three years later, the day he was running to his dying Uncle Tilred.

            He stepped further back.  A shaft of sunlight from the south windows suddenly appeared, probably a break in the clouds outside.  Now it was the outer red border and the four corners of the tapestry that lit up.  He moved back in, and then squatted down to look at the bottom left of the four corner emblems, the two upper ones high above his head.  On a dark background, Bega had embroidered two marvelous birds with multicolored feathers and fierce beaked heads, trailing interlaced red and blue tails.

            Leaning to the right he looked at the emblem in the bottom center, mirrored above and on both sides.  Here again interlace, but with two mammal heads facing out.  To make the interlace stand out like gold in the manuscript, she had cleverly appliqued the bright yellow fabric against a black background.

            He stood back up and examined the central boss of the cross.  The square had four circles in it, each filled with endless swirls that made him sway, almost losing his balance.

For Tilwif constructing the deacon garments for Aldred and Bega, I am reliant on the work of Julia Barrow and Maureen Miller cited in the bibliography below.

     Meanwhile, their mother Tilwif was sewing their vestments for Easter, a chrismal robe for Frith, alb, dalmatic, maniple, and stole for Bega and Aldred.

            The long sleeved alb undergarment, like the chrismal robe, was simple white linen they had in abundant supply.  Bega already had such a garment, but Aldred’s from Govan as subdeacon was worn and stained from his travels, so she made him a new one. 

            The dalmatic over the linen alb was more colorful, a calf-length natural colored tunic with red stripes from shoulder to hem and along the sleeve edge.  These dalmatics Tilwif made from their fine wool for warmth in the cool church.  For the stripes, she used tablet-woven braids with variegated red threads and texture created with alternating warp (z)- and weft (s)-spun threads.  Some of the women spun their spindles sunwise to produce warp thread, some the opposite direction making weft. Combined in a chevron tablet weave of two different shades of red, these braided borders stood out from the plain white garment, a reminder of the blood of Christ that washed them spotless as the wool of the dalmatic onto which it was sewn.

            The maniple was a white linen hand-cloth for the deacons to carry over their arm, ostensibly to cover or wipe any utensils during the performance of the mass.  Their house had stacks of these folded rectangular cloths on hand, made from the fabric left after making other garments and altar cloths, and hemmed with simple stem stitches done by the girls learning to use their needles.

            The maniple, alb, and dalmatic were quickly made from materials on hand.  The stole, however, was a long embroidered scarf worn over the alb and peeking out below the dalmatic.  Tilwif had already finished Bega’s stole before Aldred’s return, so now she worked on his.  Both scarves were made of finely woven undyed linen, about 3 inches wide, but almost entirely covered in intricate designs similar to those on the Luke Gospel cross wall hanging in the church. 

            Bega’s scarf imitated the pale blues, reds, and greens of the interwoven beasts in the four rectangualr patterns surrounding the central cross, but at the bottom of both ends that would be visible below the dalmatic, she replicated the equilateral gold cross with the last of Gytha’s yellow silk and red thread used in the wall-hanging.

            Aldred’s scarf looked more like the four corner emblems, green and blue interlace all along it, terminating at both ends with the bird’s winged bodies and heads.  As his mother worked on it, Aldred admired how the embroidered interlace looked like feathers, but looking closely he saw that where the interlace emerged at the bottom, each had a sharpened point, like a pen quill, his favorite tool.  The bird heads themselves were white and appeared more dove like, symbolic of the Holy Spirit, the comforter.

I will save for a later post the description of Easington’s flax production for linen, their spinning and weaving operations, and the twelve vills.

Thoughts and suggestions welcome.

 

Barrow, Julia .The Clergy in the Medieval World: Secular Clerics, Their Families and Careers in North-Western Europe, c. 800–c. 1200. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2016.

Coatsworth, Elizabeth. “Stitches in Time: Establishing a History Anglo-Saxon Embroidery.” In Medieval Clothing and Textiles I, ed. Robin Netherton and Gale R. Owen-Crocker (Woodbridge: Boydell Press, 2005), 1-28.

Coatsworth, Elizabeth. “Opus What?  The Textual History of Medieval Embroidery Terms and Their Relationship to the Surviving Embroideries c. 800-1400.” In Textiles, Text, Intertext: Essays in Honour of Gale R. Owen-Crocker, ed. Maren Clegg Hyer and Jill Frederick, (Woodbridge: Boydell Press, 2016), 43-66. 

Miller, Maureen C. Clothing the Clergy, Virtue and Power in Medieval Europe, c. 800-1200. Ithaca and London: Cornell University Press, 2014.

Owen-Crocker, Gale R. Dress in Anglo-Saxon England. Revised Edition. Woodbridge: Boydell Press, 2004.

 

Although I have not posted recently, now in this time of pandemic, here is what I have been working on since my last post. I have actually finished a long chapter set in 941 with Aldred trailing along with Cathroe’s pilgrimage from Govan to Penrith.

Along the way, I have taken a number of liberties with the historical record, including having them travel by ship and visit a number of holy sites such that the chapter has turned into a hagiographic marathon.  If anyone wants to binge-read saints’ lives, this chapter does it.  It also ponders a lot of stone monuments.

One of the liberties early on in the chapter tries to explain the “Constantine” sarcophagus at Govan that I blogged about when I visited in 2015.   Tim Clarkson recommended a visit to Govan, and his blogs Heart of the Kingdom and Senchus, as well as his books Strathclyde and the Anglo-Saxons in the Viking Age and The Making of Scotland, have been essential reading for me.  So apologies to Tim for what follows!

Constantine sarcophagus

 

This ninth century sarcophagus  is not only rare but also puzzling as to who was in it.  Although attributed to a “Constantine,” that connection as patron of the Govan church is tenuous at best.  And, even if a Constantine was encased in it, which one?

• Possibly Pictish/Scots King Constantine I, Constantín mac Cináeda (d. 877), son of Cináed mac Ailpín (d. 862).  But why would he be buried in the church at Govan?
• The hazy St. Constantine of the early seventh century, reputedly the son of Rhydderch Hael and a pupil of St. Columba, is only known from a twelfth-century account (Jocelin’s Life of Kentigern), with a Greek Orthodox feastday of March 11.  So how would his body be in a viking style sarcophagus of ninth century, and decidedly secular, manufacture?

So I invented a scenario for Aldred’s contemplation of the sarcophagus in the Govan church, comparing it to his fond memories of Cuthbert’s wooden casket:

           Today [March 11] was the feastday of St. Constantine, the patron of this church—not the great Roman emperor famous for his conversion, but son of a Strathclyde ancestor.  According to the brothers here, St. Constantine was the son of Rhydderch Hael (the Generous), king of Alt Clut.  He was purportedly tutored by the great Columba, founder of the Iona monastery, itself the mother of the Lindisfarne community to which Aldred belonged.  Aldred had never heard of this saint before coming to Govan, but certainly anyone connected to Columba was bound to have pursued a holy life.

            The bones of this saint rested in the east end of the church in a stone sarcophagus intricately carved, a much more solid edifice, if less angelic, than the carved wooden coffin of St. Cuthbert back at Chester-le-Street.  Alded had examined the sarcophagus soon after his arrival, discovering that it was of recent construction—its motifs reminiscent of the viking hogback stones dotting the landscape, rather than the older style of Iona two centuries before.

            To be sure, the sarcophagus had interlaced vines similar to many an Irish cross or Northumbrian gravestone.  But between the blocks of entangled vines were carvings not of saints or angels, but of animals, mostly powerful horses.  In the center of the side facing the nave, a decidedly warlike horseman rode after a stag, while a frame near the head on that side depicted a horse trampling a beast underfoot, which, Aldred supposed if you stretched it, might be Christ trampling the devil. 

            To Aldred’s mind, it would be a very fine coffin for a king named Constantine, a common  enough royal name, rather than a saint.  The Govan brothers had given only sketchy answers to his polite queries about what the carvings represented in the life of their patron. 

            Aldred guessed that the saint’s bones had been moved into this glorious stone coffin as the result of some kind of dispute between the churchmen and the rulers across the river [Partick], perhaps over their alliances with the Gall-Gáidhil, “foreigner-Gaels.”  Whether the Gaelgal were viking foreigners become Gaels, or Gaels become vikings was unclear, but their warrior ethos was abundantly clear.  Aldred had seen similar bands—and alliances—in Northumbria and in Ireland. 

            Was this magnificent stone sarcophagus a peace offering from the Gaelgal, a gesture toward being more Christian?  If so, their ideas about sanctity and warfare differed from his own community’s.  Aldred pitied St. Constantine his new stone home and thought longingly of St. Cuthbert.

Is this plausible?

Aldred’s journey homeward as a twenty-something includes a stint at Govan (Scotland), where he joins the pilgrimage of Cathroe.  I ambitiously outlined the ten-year period from Aldred at the Battle of Brunanburh to his return to Northumbria in an earlier post, Ubi Sunt, that set out my spring sabbatical writing agenda.  That was followed by an account of Aldred’s stay at Glendalough (Ransom) detailed in letters between Aldred and his family.  I then began a chapter that starts with Aldred meeting Cathroe in Govan, embarking on a pilgrimage journey that turned into an odyssey, at least for me.  I made great progress, learned a lot, and intended to post a series of queries on the blog, but then Life happened, I was back in the classroom…and this post delayed.

What started out as a road trip story based on the life of St. Cathroe’s pilgrimage turned into a sea journey and then into a series of saint’s lives recounted at each pilgrimage stop.  I had fun writing the chapter (which is not quite done) but also annotated it with a lot of questions about some of my choices and their historical viability.

1.  Languages. Aldred is living and traveling with people of different linguistic abilities:  Latin, English, Norse, Irish, Gaelic (Scots and/or Cumbric), Welsh.  Everyone in this northern region is probably at least bilingual, but in different combinations.  Some languages are related enough to have some mutual intelligibility (English and Norse, potentially).  Clerics raised in a religious community would find Latin a common language across unintelligible boundaries.  In the course of the chapter and Aldred’s encounters with different people, I have to explain how they communicated, in some cases with someone translating for someone else.  For Aldred himself, I am drawing on my own weak experiences with hearing/speaking other languages.  This is the background note I wrote to myself for the chapter:

Aldred may have spent two years in Ireland, and now finds himself in a Cumbric speaking kingdom, but he has no ear for learning languages orally or speaking them.  He grew up bilingual in his native vernacular Northumbrian English and Latin, but has trouble with Celtic languages, never really learns to speak them well, and has trouble sometimes following a story told aloud.  As a budding scholar, he feels stupid, but as a scribe he has discovered he is a visual learner: he sees words spelled.  He speaks Latin primarily with other clerics.  Lay nobles, household servants, ship’s crews are mostly bilingual or trilingual in English, Norse, Irish, or some form of Gaelic (Cumbric is lost to us, but similar to Welsh).

Throughout the chapter, I indicate when Aldred is having difficulty following something, or occasions when someone translates for someone else:  when the Norse serving boy, who can understand English and some Gaelic, doesn’t understand Latin, or stumbles over an unfamiliar English or Gaelic word; or when Irish clerics mix Latin and Irish in macaronic speech, Aldred has to ask questions.

Does this approach make sense? 

 

2.  Seafaring Pilgrimage.  The Life of Cathroe (Vita Kaddroe) indicates that Cathroe of Alba was escorted by Scots King Constantine to Govan, where he was received by Strathclyde (Cumbrian) King Dyfnwal, who escorted the pilgrim saint to his borders at Loida (Lowther).  The obvious way to proceed from Govan to Lowther would be overland, with the king itinerating through his territories and relying on the resources of his holdings there.   While traveling overland would make sense both for pilgrims on foot and for an itinerating king, it presents a transportation problem of horse-riding warriors versus on-foot pilgrims.  Going by ship is faster and easier, even though having to go the long way around Galloway.  And it allows me to have them make pilgrimage stops at Arran (St. Molaise’s island) and Whithorn (St. Ninian), which would not be on the itinerary overland.  This choice also forced me to learn a lot about tides, ships, and aquatic life.

Is this choice of traveling by ship too far-fetched?

More questions to come, but for now these are the two big ones.

Bibliography

After the traumatic battle of Brunanburh in 937, Aldred is taken to Ireland, as I described in my previous post, Ubi Sunt.  This interlude chapter of the novel consists of letters he exchanges with his godfather and namesake Aldred, and his mother Tilwif and sister Bega. In these letters, he is struggling with doubt and depression, and debt.

The Tune Ship, built c. 910.  Aldred might have sailed on something like this.

I have altered the end of the previous Brunanburh chapter (much earlier draft here) to indicate that he is taken aboard one of the last departing viking ships of Anlaf by two Glendalough monks who befriended him.  Unfortunately, through some linguistic miscommunication and the usual rapacity of such viking captains, Aldred is held for ransom (or at least payment of his passage) when they arrive at Wicklow.  The Glendalough monks pay for him, and now Aldred owes them a debt.

Most of the accounts of ransom that give the amount are for very high status persons involving huge sums of money in gold and silver, plus herds of cattle and the like:  in 858 the abbot of St. Denis and his brother were redeemed for 686 pounds gold and 3250 pounds silver (Annals of St. Bertin, 858); an eleventh-century princeling was worth 60 ounces gold, 60 ounces white silver, 1200 cows, a sword, 120 horses, and exchange of hostages (Hudson, 111).  On the other hand, a slave might be manumitted for 10 mancuses (Pelteret, 152-54), about 300 silver pennies (Sawyer, 102-04).

For Aldred, if he is simply being redeemed for the cost of his passage and potential value if held as a slave, I devised this possible ransom scenario, as recounted in his letter to his godfather:

Our Irish brothers redeemed me as hostage from the viking sea captain, who sought payment for carrying me with them to Wicklow.  It seems the value of a weaponless but sturdy young man is one pig, five chickens, and twelve ores of silver.  I am repaying the pig, chickens, and my own food and shelter here with the labor of a scribe, but I am unable to repay the ¾ lb bag of silver, 212 pennies stamped by King Athelstan with a cross.

In what I hope is a good foreshadowing element, I am having Aldred’s debt include the mysterious twelve ores of silver that he later mentions in his colophon to the Lindisfarne Gospels:  eight ores of silver plus glossing the first three gospels, apparently for his entrance to the community of St. Cuthbert, and four ores of silver for the Gospel of John, for God and St. Cuthbert (although see a different interpretation of the silver ores here, as silver borders).

And [I] Aldred, unworthy and most miserable priest over-glossed it in English with the help of God and St. Cuthbert. And, by means of the three parts, he made a home for himself. The Matthew part for God and St. Cuthbert, the Mark part for the bishop/s, and the Luke part for the community, and eight ores of silver for his induction.

And the St John part for himself (it is for his soul), and four ores of silver for God and St Cuthbert: so that he may gain acceptance through God’s mercy into heaven, happiness and peace, on earth, progress and increase, wisdom and prudence through the merits of St Cuthbert.

If Aldred’s ora are Old Norse eyrir (gen. eyris, plural aurar), then each is equivalent to one ounce of silver (A Concise Dictionary of Old Icelandic; see also Bosworth-Toller).  Twelve ounces of silver would be 3/4 of a pound–often such payments are measured in weight. If translated into English silver pennies, whose weight was set from the time of King Alfred at 1.6 grams (= 0.05643834 ounces), then 12 ounces/ores of silver would be approximately 212+ silver pennies.  Someone please check my math, since numismatics and calculations are not my strong suit!

The common coinage in the viking-dominated Dublin arc, including hoards found at Glenadalough, is ironically the English silver penny (Etchingham, 219-20), such as this one minted by King Athelstan and found at Glendalough:

Athelstan circumscription cross type silver penny.  British Museum 1839,1214.111

 

As for the repayment, I have Aldred’s godfather send this reply:

The delay in sending this letter is caused by the need to find an honest messenger traveling with a trustworthy armed warband. He brings the payment of your redemption, coin for coin but with the viking mark of St. Peter at York, a gift to the brothers of Glendalough, servants of St. Kevin, from the brothers of Chester-le-Street, servants of St. Cuthbert.

I am not sure, however, what his godfather would call this coin (not “viking”).  Perhaps I am trying to be too clever here, in having Aldred’s Irish friends pay the viking ship captain in English coin of King Athelstan, only to have Aldred’s English godfather repay in local Northumbrian viking coin.

Circa 900, Northumbrian coinage (previously much debased) was being minted by the viking rulers of York, many found in the Cuerdale hoard (Williams, 198-99; and Blackburn, tba).  The dating for the Scandinavian rulers of York are tricky for the years surrounding Brunanburh, and the coins are not always much help since only some have ruler names on them.  It is too early for Anlaf Guthfrithson’s  York pennies with  Old Norse on them  (939)–he hasn’t gotten back to York yet.  But 937 is also a bit late for some of the other coins coming out of viking York before the submission to Athelstan in 927, some with Scandinavian symbols such as hammers and swords appearing with Christian symbols like the cross:

Silver York penny with cross, hammer, sword.  British Museum 1915,0507.772

It may be safer to stick with the more neutral of these York coins, those with the plain reference to St. Peter and a cross:

York silver penny, St. Peter two-line phase 2.  British Museum 1959,1210.9.

Such coins may still have been in circulation, given to or hoarded at places like Chester-le-Street, rather than re-minted at York in Wessex King Athelstan’s name.  Maybe the community of St. Cuthbert held onto these York St. Peter coins for use on just such an occasion as this, redeeming a Northumbrian cleric from viking pirates in Ireland, with a pinch of irony attached.

• Annals of St. Bertin, MGH edition, p. 49.
  
• Blackburn, Mark A. S. Viking Coinage and Currency in the British Isles.  London:  Spink, 2011.
• Etchingham, Colmán. “The Viking Impact on Glendalough.”  In Charles Doherty, Linda Doran, and Mary Kelly, eds., Glendalough:  City of God.  Dublin:  Four Courts Press for the Royal Society of Antiquaries of Ireland, 2011,  pp. 211-22.
• Hudson, Benjamin. Viking Pirates and Christian Princes:  Dynasty, Religion, and Empire in the North Atlantic. Oxford:  Oxford University Press, 2005.
• Pelteret, David A. E. Slavery in Early Medieval England:  From the Reign of Alfred until the Twelfth Century.  Woodbridge:  Boydell Press, 1995.
• Sawyer, Peter. The Wealth of Anglo-Saxon England. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2013.
• Williams, Gareth. “Kingship, Christianity and Coinage:  Monetary and Political Perspectives on Silver Economy in the Viking Age.” In James Graham-Campbell, James and Gareth Williams, eds., Silver Economy in the Viking Age.  Walnut Creek: Routledge, 2007,  pp. 177-214.

I am trying to fill in a ten year gap in Aldred’s story, from the battle of Brunanburh in 937, when Aldred is 19, to the ill-fated bishopric of Sexhelm in 947, after which Aldred becomes a priest.  Since the inspiration for this fictional biography came from Aldred’s scribal activities later in life as priest and provost, I began with stories built around those texts of circa 950-970, and then began filling in his earlier life experiences.  These ten years, Aldred in his twenties, are crucial for his spiritual formation and later vocation.  Here are my current ideas:

937-39 Glendalough, Ireland

Glendalough tower, author photo 2013

I may make the ending of the previous chapter at Brunanburh a bit more ambiguous in terms of his vocation, and also have him scooped up by Anlaf’s retreating group and taken on the ship to Dublin, sort of but not quite as a hostage.  Traumatized by these events, Aldred enters a period of doubt and depression, but is befriended or redeemed by monks at Glendalough, where he studies for two years.  My plan is to make this an “interlude” chapter of letters he exchanges with his mother, sister, and godfather Aldred at Chester-le-Street.  Models for such letters include those of Boniface and Alcuin, but I intend to make Aldred’s letters macaronic in the best Irish style, a mix of Latin and English, drawing on his own colophon marginalia.  Those to his godfather Aldred include ubi sunt reflections from Isidore of Seville’s Synonyma, a popular lament akin to the psalms and a common teaching text.

Whithorn cross, author photo 2015

 

939-41 Strathclyde and Scotland

Aldred returns to the north on a viking ship from Dublin, ends up primarily in Strathclyde under King Dyfnwal, but also travels in the Scottish realm of King Constantine, who beat a hasty retreat from Brunanburh.  Aldred might travel in the entourage of Anlaf Guthfrithsson, who returned from Dublin after the death of King Athelstan of Wessex in 939 and became king of Northumbria, followed by the other Anlaf, Sihtricsson.  While in Strathclyde and Scotland, Aldred connects with long-lost family, visits Whithorn and Govan, experiences he may relate looking back in a later chapter.  To find my way through the tangle of politics in this region, not to mention the chaos in Northumbria and York in relation to Wessex, I will be relying heavily on the books and posts of Tim Clarkson (Senchus), especially Strathclyde and the Anglo-Saxons in the Viking Age.

941-42 Back to Northumbria

Stainmore Pass, author photo 2013

Too good to pass up, I am going to attach Aldred to the pilgrimage of St. Cathroe of Alba to get him back in his Northumbrian homelands.   According to the Vita Kaddroe, Cathroe was given an escort by Scots king Constantine to “Cumbria,” where he was welcomed by Strathclyde king Dyfnwal, who gave him safe conduct to his border at “Loida” (which Clarkson identifies as Lowther, just south of Penrith, possibly a religious institution).  The nobleman of Loida, Gunderic, then leads Cathroe over the Pennines to York, presumably via Stainmore Pass, a road familiar to Aldred, so I can add him to the entourage.  Cathroe befriends Aldred, who is still puzzling over his vocation, and they discuss Aldhelm’s De virginitate.  At some point before this, Aldred becomes a subdeacon, marking the formal end of his education, but is hesitating on pursuing the diaconate, generally but not absolutely marked by celibacy, and then the priesthood, which would tie him to an altar, ending his travels.  From York, Aldred is finally able to return “home” to Easington to see his mother and sister, and Chester-le-Street, the heart of the Cuthbertine community.

942-44 Easington

For two years, Aldred serves as subdeacon in his own family’s church at their Easington estate, which his mother Tilwif and sister Bega, under the influence of abbess Bega, have turned into virtually a women’s religious enclosure for refugees.  Aldred is tempted to marry the young woman he briefly had an encounter with when he was 16, but I do not think I will have him marry.  This is a period of quiet restlessness for Aldred, who misses the travel and the books.  These years may also be recounted in the next chapter, looking back.

944-47 Exile or Pilgrimage

Jarrow,  Bede by Fenwick Lawson (author photo, 2013)

The accession of Bishop Uchtred at Chester-le-Street (944-47) brings some trouble for Aldred.  Uchtred is firmly pro-Wessex, especially with the gifts that King Edmund drops off at Chester-le-Street in 944 after he expels Anlaf Sihtricsson and Ragnall from York, and then moves against Strathclyde.  Aldred’s long sojourn and family ties to Strathclyde bring him under suspicion, undermined by Seaxhelm the Wessex spy and Aldred’s nemesis from the battle of Brunanburh.  Aldred warns his godfather Aldred at Chester-le-Street about Sexhelm’s duplicity, and his godfather speaks up for Aldred with the bishop against Seaxhelm’s insinuations.  But the bishop remains doubtful, so his godfather sends Aldred away (elevating him to deacon first).  Where he goes, I am not sure yet, perhaps the continent, but eventually Cuthbertine communities in Norham (where he was educated earlier), or Hexham.  Or he could be assigned to Crayke as a remote poor site, deacon to the priest there.

947-48 Chester-le-Street

Seaxhelm becomes bishop in 947, a disastrous two or six month episcopacy marked by avarice and tyranny, not to mention Northumbria switching allegiances between Wessex King Eadred and Erik Bloodaxe under the machinations of Archbishop Wulfstan of York (I do wonder if these two episcopal upheavals, at Chester-le-Street and York, are connected).  Godfather Aldred replaces Seaxhelm as bishop and attempts to restore the community of St. Cuthbert, entering into a period of repentance from Lent 947, which I plan to explore with Rogation Days.  With the accession of his godfather as bishop, my Aldred returns to Chester-le-Street, bringing some relics of bishop Acca he “borrowed” from Hexham in a bit of furta sacra (a story told about a later Aldred at Hexham transposed here, see PASE Aldred1 and Symeon of Durham, Historia Regnum).  His episcopal godfather rebukes Aldred as being no better than Seaxhelm, and makes him return the relics to Hexham.   After Aldred’s year-long penance for relic theft, he is ordained priest on Ember Saturday after Pentecost, 948, and assigned to Crayke. That King Eadred, retaliating for the Northumbrian and York betrayal, comes north in 948 and sacks Ripon may figure in Aldred’s story at nearby Crayke.

From there, I have chapters written on his experiences in Crayke (viking attack, field prayers) and return to Chester-le-Street.  The above scenarios for Aldred in his twenties helps explain not only his vocation but also why he needs to “buy” his way into a home at Chester-le-Street in 950 by glossing the Lindisfarne Gospels.

 

My short foray into croziers in my previous post has led to a deeper dive into the history and use of this item, which turned out to be more complicated than I imagined, and with more Irish than Anglo-Saxon leads in some cases.

Kells Crozier top

The kinds of evidence for crozier use include:  artifacts (actual croziers and pieces); illustrations of croziers in manuscripts; liturgical rites in which it is mentioned; linguistic evidence of terms for crozier (dictionaries and glossaries); and narratives referring to crozier in use, as for example in a life of a bishop saint.  Piecemeal as it is, these bits add up to a picture of a crozier as it might have been used in tenth century Northumbria.

Artifacts

Piecemeal:  the Setne knop fragment

I focused initially on the British Museum’s Irish Kells Crozier and Anglo-Saxon Alcester Tau Crozier head, and the Northumbrian Setne knop found in a Scandinavian grave.  The work by Murray on the latter leads to a number of magnificent Irish croziers and fragments that are the focus of his work on insular croziers, but still the conspicuous absence of Anglo-Saxon croziers is curious.

A search of the British Museum’s online collection for croziers 100-1200 A.D. turned up five Irish fragments made of similar materials as the Kells, that is copper alloy over wood, with silver or gilt (which Murray confirms as the norm for these crook-headed croziers).  But the search only turned up two Anglo-Saxon examples already noted, one the Alcester tau-head, and the other the walrus ivory fragment with the BVM, both late Anglo-Saxon, and of different style and materials than the Irish ones.  This doesn’t mean there are not Anglo-Saxon croziers surviving outside the British Museum, but the ratio of Irish to Anglo-Saxon is borne out by Murray’s work as well.

One might conclude the Irish had their own peculiar tradition of croziers, crook-headed, metal over wood, if it were not for the Setne fragment and other illustrations.

Illustrations

Manuscript images show a variety of shapes for a staff held in the hand of a churchman, some crook-headed, some tau-headed, some with a knob on top.  In general, the crook-headed croziers doesn’t seem to become iconic until the 11th century and later, and by the central and later Middle Ages, it is a common symbol of a bishop on coats of arms and such.

I initially searched using Ohlgren’s Insular and Anglo-Saxon Illuminated Manuscripts: An Iconographic Catalogue, c. a.d. 625 to 1100, concentrating on those clearly identified as a crozier, rather than more generic staff, rod, scepter, or cross-staff.

MacDurnan Gospels Luke

The ninth century Irish MacDurnan Gospels (London Lambeth Palace L MS 1370) passed into the hands of tenth-century Anglo-Saxon King Æthelstan.  Matthew holds his crook-headed crozier cross body, while Luke holds his straight up.

 

Two other manuscripts show Benedict of Monte Cassino with a crook-headed crozier, presumably as abbot:  Orleans Bib Municipale MS 175, fol. 149v; and the Arundel Psalter (BL MS Arundel 155, fol. 133).  We also have Gregory the Great in full pontifical regalia with a crook-headed crozier in Oxford Bodl MS Tanner 3, fol. 1v (11th cen).

Then there are images of supposedly tau-headed croziers in a similar artistic style, more like wiry fleur-de-lis:  Durham Cathedral Library MS B.III.32, fol. 56v (DigiPal image) and BL Cotton Tiberius A.III, fol. 2v.  The latter shows King Edgar flanked by possibly Ethelwold of Winchester in the vestments of a bishop or abbot, with crozier in right hand, and  Dunstan of Canterbury in bishop’s vestments, staff in left hand.

BL Cotton Tiberius A.III fol. 2v

 

Last, is an image of a bishop consecrating a church holding a knob-headed staff, in the Lanalet Pontifical, Rouen MS A.27 (368).  Gittos has a reproduction of it (fig. 78).  In another manuscript image of a church consecration in Ben. Æthelwold, BL Additional MS 49598, fol. 118 (Gittos, fig. 6.5), the bishop is not holding a crozier, although liturgical evidence, up next, suggests it had a function in that ceremony.

What we don’t have in these illustrations is an unambiguous picture of an Anglo-Saxon bishop holding a crook-headed crozier.

Liturgy

A crozier or other staff belonging to a bishop turns up in liturgical rituals:  a blessing of the item, probably as part of episcopal ordination; the giving of the crozier as part of the the ordination or installation of a bishop; and the consecration of a new church by a bishop.

The Latin term used is baculum, but sometimes cambutta, or both.  Earlier, these may have referred to two different kinds of staff.  I captured this nugget of information and some of the quotes below and other leads from a three-volume nineteenth-century dissertation by Daniel Rock that I found in googlebooks, but have not tracked all of them down to more current editions.

That the bishop should receive a baculus when consecrated, and what it signifies, is established by Isidore of Seville: Huic autem (episcopo) dum consecratur, datur baculus, ut eius indicio subditam plebem vel regat, vel corrigat, vel infirmitates infirmorum sustineat (S. Isidori, De Eccl. Officiis, lib. ii, cap. v).

The most common statement giving the baculus to a bishop at ordination is similar in tone, some variation on “accept this baculum of pastoral office….”  The Egbert Pontifical (Paris, Bib nat. MS Lat. 10575) has the formula:

Cum datur baculus haec oratio dicitur:  Accipe baculum pastoralis officii et sis in corrigendis uitiis. seuiens. in ira iudicium sine ira tenens. cum iratus fueris misericordiæ reminiscens.

This formula is also found in the Dunstan (Sherborne) Pontifical; Lanalet Pontifical; the Benedictional of Archbishop Robert; and the Leofric Missal.  The latter two late manuscripts have some alternatives and elaborations.  For example, the Leofric Missal (ed. Orchard) offers this longer variant (also found in the Ben. of AB Robert):

2341 HIC DANDVS EST BACVLVS.  Accipe baculum sacri regiminis signum, ut inbecilles consolides, titubantes confirmes, prauos corrigas, rectos dirigas in uiam saluits aeternae, habeasque potestatem erigendi dignos, et corrigendi indignos, cooperante domino nostro ihesu christo qui cum patre in unitate spiritus sancti cui est, honor et imperium per omnia secula seculorum.  Amen.

Embedded in some of these ordinations are blessings of the baculum, some of them poetic.  Egbert and the Ben. AB Robert have these verses before the giving of the item (Banting, p. 146;  fol. 180-180v; quires added at Evreux, c. XI; cf p. xiv).

BENEDICTIO BACVULI

Tu baculus nostrae et rector per secula uitę.

Istum sanctifica pietatis iure bacillum.

Quo mala sternantur. quo semper recta regnantur.

The Ben. of AB Robert also has a second ordination ritual that includes elaborate instructions for preparing beforehand  vestments and items like the crozier (HBS 24, p. 160), and this additional and more extensive blessing (HBS 24, p. 165):

Benedictio baculi

Omnipotens et misericors deus. qui ineffabili bonitate uotis supplicantium assistis. quique ex tuę pietatis habundantia affectum petendi attribuis. baculo huic quem ad pastoralis officii signum in tuo nomine dedicamus. tuae benedictionis uim copiose infunde. ut eo pastor insignitus. sic populum tuum sollicite custodiat. quatinus ab unitate aecclesię nullatenus deuiare permittat. sed infractum redintegret. quassatum consolidet. seque una cum grege suo integrum tibi atque immaulatum conseruet. per.

These same liturgical books (“pontificals” is the later term) also include the episcopal consecration of churches that might involve actions using the crozier or some other kind of staff in the bishop’s hand.  In the Dunstan (Sherborne) Pontifical, it appears to be used as the bishop approaches the door and asks to enter (Pontificale S. Dunstani, ed. Martene, De Ant. Ecc. Rit. t. ii, lib. ii, cap. xiii, p. 255).

Tunc ingrediatur unus ex diaconibus ecclesiam, & clauso ostio, ante ipsum flet, ceteris omnibus præ foribus remanentibus, & pontifex ter super liminare ecclesiæ cambuta sua aut baculo percutiat dicens:  Tollite portas principes vestras, et elevamini portæ æternales, et introibit rex gloriæ.

Otherwise, the main event where the bishop might use his staff is in tracing the alphabet crossways on the church floor, first one diagonal, then the other, a ceremony explicated by Helen Gittos (p. 233).  The Lanalet Pontifical (HBS 74, p. 7; see also Ben of AB Rob, HBS 24, p. 78) has:

Deinde incipit pontifex de sinistro angulo a oriente scribens per pauimentum cum cambuta sua .a.b.c.darium usque in dexterum angulum occidentalem. et dicit. hanc antiphonam.

Fundamentum aliud nemo potest ponere preter illud denique quod positum est a christo domino . Psalmus. Fundamenta eius.

Et a dextero angulo orientali scribat similiter .a.b.c.darium usque in sinistrum angulum occidentalem basilicę canendo antiphonam.

Haec aula accipiat a deo gratiam benedictionem et misericordiam a chrsto ihesu. Psalmus. Magnus dominus.

It is unclear, though, what exactly the implement is that he uses, whether a crozier or a shorter staff of some kind.

All told, the liturgical uses of the baculum establish that it is a key symbol for the bishop’s office and duties, but there is no strong sense of its meaning linked to a shepherd’s crook shape.

MacDurnan Gospels Matthew

Stories

The following stories involving croziers are anecdotal, in the sense that I did not do a complete search but tripped across them along the way.  These first few are taken from Daniel Rock’s seemingly exhaustive catalogue of ecclesiastical regalia and implements, including the pastoral staff (pp. 181-92).

• Life of Caesarius of Arles, 6th cen:  that a clerk carried the bishop’s staff before him on ceremonial occasions and into the church.
• Life of Dionysius, 9th cen:  that bishop’s staff was hung over his grave, as appeared in a miracle story.
• A Carolingian bishop apparently tried to take the king’s scepter as his staff.
• Odo of Bayeux, according to Symeon of Durham, stole the Durham crozier.
• Bishop Wulfstan, when deposed by Lanfranc, staked his staff into the grave of Edward the Confessor to make his point.

More specific to pre-Conquest Anglo-Saxon England are a few references in Old English:

• In an Old English list of saint’s resting places (Secgan be þam Godes sanctum þe on Engla lande ærost reston) in Cambridge, Corpus Christi College 201, bottom of p. 150, Milton Abbey has the arm and staff (crycc) of St. Samson, sixth century Bishop of Dol.  One wonders if the arm is holding the staff….
• The Old English Martyrology recounts a miracle of St. Ambrose (April 5) in which a Roman general facing an overwhelming host prays to the saint and then has a dream in which the bishop thrusts his staff (crycc) three times on a particular hill in a field, saying Hic, hic, hic, helpfully translated into Old English, her, her, her.  Needless to say the general found the location and won the battle.  London, British Library, MS. Cotton Julius A.X, fol. 76v-77r or see Rauer, pp. 78-79).
• Crycc, which can mean crutch or staff, is thus used in these two instances to refer to a bishop’s staff.  The OE term bisceopstæf also occurs twice in late Old English, once as an error for bisceopsetl (seat).  OE hæcce as a translation of Lat. baculum appears to be post-Conquest.

These stories establish that bishops carried, or had carried for them, a staff that is more than likely the baculum given them at ordination as a sign of their office and authority.  In some cases it appears to be a substantial item, akin to a walking staff, rather than something held like a scepter and not touching the ground.  Whether it was topped with a ball, tau, or crook is not evident.

Back to the Kells Crozier

I am left wondering, then, whether the Kells Crozier is typical and can be used to visualize these episcopal activities.  I am still convinced that this style of crozier would be possible in Northumbria in the tenth century.

Kells Crozier, British Museum

As I circled the glass case in the British Museum, crouching low and peering high, I began to ask some questions about how the thing would be held and carried. At a little over 4.36 feet, its a bit tall to use as a walking staff, especially given the ornateness of its crook. More likely it was carried or held, perhaps cross body like MacDurnan’s Matthew, above.  Where might one hold it?  Between the first and second knops, as in MaDurnan’s Luke, or nearer the middle, between the second and third knops, like Matthew?  The Kells Crozier has crosses hammered onto the shaft between the first and second knops, and between the third and bottom knops, but a cross is either missing or never placed between the second and third knops, midway, a likely handhold.

One can also imagine a bishop holding his crozier out away from his body to use in a blessing, perhaps even signing the cross with it.

Bibliography

• Banting, H. M. J, ed., Two Anglo-Saxon Pontificals (the Egbert and Sidney Sussex Pontificals), HBS 104 (London:  Boydell, 1989)
• Dunstan (or Sherborne) Pontifical  (Paris BN MS lat. 943), ed. ), Ordo quomodo domus Dei consecranda est, Pontificale S. Dunstani, ed. E. Martène, De antiquis Ecclesiæ Ritibus, 2nd ed.,  t. ii, lib. ii, cap. xiii, p. 255.
• Gittos, Helen.  Liturgy, Architecture, and Sacred Places in Anglo-Saxon England.  Oxford, 2015.
• Johnson R., “On the Dating of Some Early-Medieval Irish Crosiers,” Medieval Archaeology 44 (2000): 115-58.  Marzinzik ref.
• Lanalet Pontifical, Rouen MS A.27 (368), ed. Doble HBS 74
• Leofric Missal, 2 vols., ed. Nicholas Orchard, Henry Bradshaw Society 113-114 (London:  Boydell, 2002).
• Marzinzik, Sonja.  Masterpieces:  Early Medieval Art.  British Museum Press, 2013.
• Miles, George. The bishops of Lindisfarne, Hexham, Chester-le-Street, and Durham, A.D. 635-1020. Being an introduction to the ecclesiastical history of Northumbria. London: W. Gardner, Darton & co, 1898.   https://archive.org/details/bishopsoflindisf00mileiala/page/238
• Murray, Griffin.  ‘Insular crosiers: an independent tradition?’ in C.  Newman, M. Mannion & F. Gavin (eds) Islands in a Global Context: Proceedings of the 7th International Conference on Insular Art. Four Courts Press, Dublin, 2017, pp 167-77.
• Murray, Griffin. ‘Christian Missionaries or Viking Raiders? Insular Crosier Fragments in Scandinavia’ in O. Owen, V. Turner & D. Waugh (eds) Proceedings of the 17^th Viking Congress, Shetland 2013. Shetland Heritage Publications, Shetland, 2016, pp 173-79.
• Murray, Griffin. ‘Insular Crosiers from Viking-Age Scandinavia’ Acta Archaeologica 86 (2015), 96-121.
• Murray, Griffin. ‘Insular-type crosiers: their construction and characteristics’ in R. Moss (ed.) Making and Meaning in Insular Art: proceedings of the fifth international Conference on Insular Art. Four Courts Press, Dublin, 2007, pp. 79-94.
• Palazzo, Eric.  “The Image of the Bishop in the Middle Ages.” In The Bishop Reformed:  Studies of Episcopal Power and Culture in the Central Middle Ages, ed. John S. Ott and Anna Trumbore Jones.  Aldershot, 2007.
• Rauer, Christine, ed. and trans.  The Old English Martyrology: Edition, Translation and Commentary (Cambridge: D.S. Brewer, 2013).
• Rock, Daniel. Church of Our Fathers as seen in St. Osmund’s Rite for the Cathedral of Salisbury, vol. 2 (London: C. Dolman, 1894), pp. 181-98.
• Wilson, H. A., ed.  Benedictional of Archbishop Robert, HBS 24 (London: Boydell, 1903).

 

 

 

 

A visit to the British Museum yesterday got me thinking about croziers, and what the bishops of Lindisfarne might have bequeathed to their heirs in exile at Chester-le-Street.  Room 41, the early medieval exhibit with Sutton Hoo as its centerpiece, has two crozier items on display:

Kells Crozier, British Museum

The so-called Kells Crozier, from an Irish bishopric, with a classic curved shepherd’s crook, 133 cm tall (4.36 feet).  This metal covered wood staff was constructed and reconstructed between the eighth and twelfth centuries  (Marzinzik 2013, #149).  In one phase in the eleventh century, a sculpted head and reliquary box were added.  To me, the crook looks like the head of a horse or other beastie, something like the crest of a helmet.  See also the Clonmacnoise and the twelfth-century Lismore Crozier (Murray, 2007).

 

Alcester Tau Crozier, British Museum

A walrus ivory tau-shaped crozier head,  Anglo-Saxon, early 11th century.  Tau-headed croziers are a late tenth-century innovation as a recommended shape for abbots (Marzinzik 2013, #73). A manuscript illustration shows such tau-headed croziers, but more wiry:  Durham Cathedral Library MS B.III.32, fol. 56v (DigiPal image).  The BM Alcester Tau Crozier has Christ trampling the dragon and lion on one side and a crucifix on the other, as well as stylized beasties and plants.  Although the height of the staff is unknown, the size of the head is much smaller than the Irish crozier. [The BM also has, not on display, another fragment of a late Anglo-Saxon carved walrus crozier head, with the BVM).

Of these two, I am inclined to think that the Irish shepherd’s crook is the more likely shape for the bishopric at Chester-le-Street in the tenth century, both because of their Lindisfarne legacy of Irish connections and because the tau head is a later tenth century innovation associated more with abbots.

Another clue is a remnant of a crozier, one of the knobby bits (knops) as seen on the Kells Crozier’s staff, found in an early tenth century Scandinavian female grave in Setnes, Romsdal.  As half a knop, it was recycled as a piece of jewelry from a late 8th or early 9th century crozier pillaged from northern England (also found a reliquary).  Initially I found these online news articles from 2014 reporting the research results of Griffin Murray (University College Cork):

• British Early Christian Artifacts Preserved in Viking Graves
• Viking Raid May Have Saved British Artefact
• Viking Raids Protected Precious Artefacts

Besides the Norwegian interest in trumpeting the viking role in preserving British treasures they stole that would otherwise have been lost (and that it “belongs” to Norway), all three articles contain the same images and basic conclusion of Murray that it is from a northern English crozier, not Irish.

Murray’s research is part of a larger project on insular croziers.  Some of his articles on the Scandinavian finds are available at Academia.edu.  He gives a more detailed explanation of the Setnes fragment as Northumbrian, with analogues to Cumbrian artifacts of the mid-8th to mid-9th century (Murray 2016, 174).   In this and other articles, Murray takes the side in an ongoing debate that these ecclesiastical remains in Scandinavia are the result of viking raids in the British Isles, not insular Christian missions to Scandinavia.

For my purposes, the Setnes fragment confirms a style of crozier in Northumbria that is similar to the Kells crozier at the British Museum, and allows me to construct a crozier for Bishop Tilred. Perhaps what Tilred, bishop at Chester-le-Street, held in his hand in the tenth century had been refashioned over time from earlier Lindisfarne bishops, as bits were hacked off or damaged.  The core wooden staff might have dated back to Lindisfarne, but the metal work redone along the way.  I may have to write a history of survival for this imagined crozier, to go with the stories of preservation of Cuthbert’s coffin and the Lindisfarne Gospels.

Still to investigate:  textual references or illustrations of a Lindisfarne crozier?

And last, crozier with a z versus crosier with an s?

Bibliography

• Marzinzik, Sonja.  Masterpieces:  Early Medieval Art.  British Museum Press, 2013.
• Murray, Griffin.  ‘Christian Missionaries or Viking Raiders? Insular Crosier Fragments in Scandinavia’ in O. Owen, V. Turner & D. Waugh (eds) Proceedings of the 17^th Viking Congress, Shetland 2013. Shetland Heritage Publications, Shetland, 2016, pp 173-79.
• Murray, Griffin.  ‘Insular Crosiers from Viking-Age Scandinavia’ Acta Archaeologica 86 (2015), 96-121.
• Murray, Griffin.  ‘Insular-type crosiers: their construction and characteristics’ in R. Moss (ed.) Making and Meaning in Insular Art: proceedings of the fifth international Conference on Insular Art. Four Courts Press, Dublin, 2007, pp. 79-94.

 

 

As part of my preparation to go on leave (fall study abroad in London, sabbatical in spring), I have been cleaning house, electronically speaking.

Inspired by Jaron Lanier’s Ten Arguments for Deleting Your Social Media Accounts Right Now, I am minimizing the commercial aspects of my presence online, in order to reject the behavior modification algorithms and the business model on which Facebook and Google rely.  I deleted my Facebook account.  I am trying DuckDuckGo instead of Google as a search engine.  I bought a WordPress personal account in order to remove ads from this blog.  I have unsubscribed from all of those business lists, some I signed up for to get an electronic receipt, others I have no idea how I got on.

I am not doing this as a Luddite (otherwise I would delete this blog).  Rather, as Lanier encourages, I want to be an independent cat, not a dog following the pack instinct.

In his tenth argument, Lanier points out the soul-destroying aspects of social media’s behavior modification, in particular the erasure of free will.  His arguments persuade me to recover some measure of control over my presence on the Internet.  I can choose to read and engage with responsible journalism, to listen with empathy to under-represented and marginalized voices, to contribute thoughtfully to well-reasoned dialogue.  I aim to listen more and say less, to think globally and act locally:  off-line and in person.

The consequence of listening, speaking, and acting more slowly and deliberately than the contemporary social media world demands is that those of us who resist and reject the terms of engagement on Facebook, Twitter, and other social media platforms can be accused of not speaking up soon enough or publicly enough.  Even as I wrote this post, I experienced the urge to “publish it now, get it out there,” but also the caution, to wait and think about the consequences of speaking like this into a virtual vacuum.

Where and how I choose to invest my time and energy with real people in real time may not be visible on the Internet, “enhance my profile” in the social media world, or further my scholarly reputation, but so what? It is not about me in this moment.  As Dietrich Bonhoeffer argued under far more daunting circumstances, success is daring to face the future for the sake of others:

“The ultimately responsible question is not how I extricate myself heroically from a situation but [how] a coming generation is to go on living.”

Dietrich Bonhoeffer. “After Ten Years:”  Dietrich Bonhoeffer and our Times, edited and introduced by Victoria J. Barnett (Minneapolis:  Fortress Press, 2017), p. 22.

One of the things I have realized while writing a fictional biography of Aldred in the tenth century is the degree to which I have built into his story some of my own struggles with intellectual pride and the desire for attention.  Cultivating some monastic humility is good for the soul.

 

 

Prologue:

Finally, after five posts leading up to it, I get to my imagined script for conducting the field remedy.

One conclusion I am moving toward, so far, is that once we add in all of the Christian liturgical rituals referenced, plus some implied by the ingredients, the dominant mode for this ritual is more self-evidently Christian liturgical than the way most scholars have read this text, as preserving a pre-Christian “pagan” set of charms in Old English with a smattering of Christian wording to make it look good.  Here is why that conclusion is wrong:  the Latin texts drawn from Christian ritual are not written out, because they are well-known to the practitioners, whereas the specific occasion texts in Old English aimed at the Latin-illiterate audience are written out in full for the Latin-literate practitioners.  Once we write out, as below, the Latin ritual texts, this thing gets really long, and really Christian.

Admittedly, I have taken some liberties to produce a script, but only using known texts and practices.  The upshot is a three day performance, imagined as a Saturday day of preparation (Act I), a Sunday sod ceremony (Act II), and a Monday plough ceremony (Act III).  But first a prologue, to set the scene.

Scene 1:  Manor hall; landowner, bailiff, and priest.

Manorial landowner receives report from bailiff of problematic field.  Bailiff suspects someone poisoned it with harmful seeds, or other materials (tainted water or manure).  Landowner believes it is cursed and demonic.

Landowner approaches priest at church on estate, requests assistance.

Priest recalls remedy in manuscript, retrieves and explains.

Scene 2: Fields; landowner, bailiff, and priest.

The three men walk the bounds of the problematic field, noting the scrawny grain and weeds.

Act I:  Day of Preparation (Saturday)

Scene 1:  Village homes, crofts and tofts;  4+ resident lay persons, probably women and children, led by a senior herbwoman, and exorcist :

Herbwoman leads women and children to gather from their households oil, honey, yeast, milk of each animal, piece of each tree (except hardwood) and each plant (except bogbean). Children are encouraged to pluck leaves from every type of plant in their gardens.

Herbwoman grinds and prepares concoction.  She works with exorcist to bless milk and honey.

The exorcist (the clergyperson responsible for clean utensils and purifying materials for liturgical use) might use this prayer for blessing milk and honey:

Benedictio lac et mal (Durham A.IV.19 additions #3 fols 62v18-63v4; see also Leofric Missal 2401)

Benedic domine et has creaturas fontis et lactis et mellis et pota famulos tuos de hoc fonte perenne qui est spiritus ueritatis et enutri eos de hoc melle et lacte.  Tu enim domine promisisti patribus nostris abrahae et issaac et iacob introducam uos in terram repromissionis terram fluentem lac et mel.  imple pro misericordia tua magna haec promissa in nobis eorum filiis aliquantenus et fide et operibus iunge nos famulos tuos in christo et spiritui santo lac et mel iunctum et cuius ducatum accipiemus in eum splendoris albidem in quam uitae passionem suam coram discipulis in monte transfiguratus est et culcidiem æternæ in resurexionem suam fafum mellis commedit per quam hæc domine.

Scene 2:  Woodshop in village; woodcarver and a clergyman (deacon or lector?).

Woodcarver follows deacon’s instructions to construct four quickbeam crosses.  Unilateral cross made of two pieces of smoothed rectilinear wood tied (?) together at intersection. Size:  6-12 inches?

Deacon or lector uses woodcarver’s small pointed knife to carve four evangelists names on each of the four ends of the crosses.

Scene 3:  Manor house; landowner and bailiff.

Arrange for almsmen and unknown seed, and double seed to give back.

Scene 4:  Barn/storage shed; bailiff and several lay male field workers.

Gather plough tools, have ready.

Use an awl to bore hole in body of the plough.

Scene 5:  Church sacristy and sanctuary; exorcist and acolyte, herbwoman.

(NB:  usually holy water and salt blessed on Sunday for subsequent use, but included here to show the process).

Herbwoman gathers incense, fennel, hallowed soap, and hallowed salt, works with exorcist for hallowing.  She compounds the ingredients and puts in jar with lid.  [Q:  is this whole compound making incense from these ingredients, and meant to be burned, perhaps as part of boring the hole in the plough into which the seed is placed?]

Exorcist performs exorcisms and blessings of salt and water, incense, soap, maybe the fennel also.  Some samples:

                Benedictio Incensi, Missal of Robert of Jum., p. 281

Domine deus omnipotens cui assistunt exercitus angelorum cum tremore quorum seruitus inuentu (sic) et ignem conuertitur dignare domine respicere et benedicere hanc creaturam tuam incensi. ut omnes languores insidias (sic) odorem ipsius sentientes effugiant. et separentur a plasma (sic) tua quos praetioso sanguine redemisti filii tui. et numquam laedantur a morsu antiqui serpentis. per…

                salt halguncge to acrum ond to berenne one in husum (Durham Collectar 642)

Exorcizo te, creatura salis, in nomine patris et filii et Spiritus Sancti, qui te per Eliseum in aquam mitti iussit, ut sanaretur sterilitas aque qui diuina sua uoce dixit:  Vos estis sal terre, ad apostolos, ut omnes qui ex eo sumpserint sint sanati animis atque corporibus et ubicumque fuerit aspersus prestet omnibus remissionem peccatorum et sanitatem, in protectionem salutis ad expellandas et excludendas omnes demonum temptationes, in nomine Dei patris omnipotentis et Iesu Christi filii eius, qui uenturus est iudicaturus in Spiritu Sancto seculum per ignem.  Amen.

                waeter halgunc to ðon ilce  (Durham Collectar 645; see also exorcisms of water, and with salt, 651-53)

                Te ergo inuoco Domine sancte pater omnipotens aeterne Deus, ut hanc aquam exorcizare benedicere pro tua pietate digneris, ut omnis spiritus inmundus locum in ea ultra non habeat, sed uibcumque fuerit aspersa, angelorum tuorum descendat exercitus. Per….

                Benedictiones ad Omnia quae volueris (Durham Collectar 595-6)

Creator et conseruator humani generis, dator gratie spiritalis largitor aeterne salutis, tu Domine mitte spiritum tuum sanctum super hanc creaturam illam ut armata uirtute caelestis defentionis, qui ex ea gustauerint proficiat illis ad aeternam salutem.  Per…

                or:

Benedic Domine creaturam istam ut sit remedium salutare generi humano; presta per inuocationem nominis tui ut quicumque ex ea sumpserit corporis sanitatem et anime tutelam percipiat.  Per….

Scene 6:  Kitchen; herbwoman and exorcist.

Herbwoman bakes a loaf with each kind of flour, milk, and holy water (gotten from exorcist).  If this is placed in the furrow on Monday, bake on Sunday, or just hold it as stale bread?

Exorcist offers blessing of new bread:

Durham A.IV.19, addition #5, fol. 63v12-19; see also Leofric 2403 and 2408; and Durham Collectar 594

Benedic domine creaturam istam panis nouam sicut benedixisti quinque panes in deserto et duos pisces et .u. milia hominum satiasti ita benedicere digneris ut sit dominis eiusdem habundans in annum alimentum gustantes qui ex eo accipient tam corporis quam animæ sanitatem per to christe iesu qui regnas in sæcula sæculum.  Per….

Scene 7:  Church sanctuary; priest, deacon or subdeacon, exorcist, lector, acolyte, devout persons.

Perform Divine Offices of Vespers before dark, Compline before bed.

Act II:  Sod Ceremony (Sunday)

Overview of timing:  Before dawn to before sunset

• January:  sunrise at 8:05 a.m. to sunset 4:05 p.m., twilight 30-40 minutes either side
• April:  sunrise 5:45 a.m. to sunset 8:15 p.m.

Divine Office hours and masses for a Sunday (see Hughes, p. 18, fig. 1.6 and sections 115-116; and Salisbury, p. 9):

• Nocturns (the night office, also called Vigils and later Matins) on the eve of the day
• Lauds (or Matins) at dawn
• Prime at the first hour of the day after sunrise
• Morning Mass [in collegiate or monastic church: Chapter meeting followed by Chapter Mass]
• [blessing of salt and water; see previous day of preparation.]
• Terce
• Principal or Sunday Mass
• Sext, noon
• Votive Mass [ferial masses after sext]
• None
• Votive Mass [fasting masses after none]
• Vespers before dark
• Compline at bedtime

Scene 1:  Outside fields; before dawn, between Nocturns and Lauds; andowner, bailiff, 2-4 lay male workers.

[nim þonne sods]:  Four men (together or separately?) go out to field and dig up four sods from four sides of the field, leave stone markers beside holes, and bring to church door west end.

Tools:  4 hoes, 4 stone markers, 4 baskets, 4 lanterns or torches.

Scene 2 :  Dawn, between Lauds and Prime, in front of west end of church; andowner, bailiff, 4 male workers, herbwoman, and 3+ clergyman (priest, deacon and exorcist?), others of the community, including children.

[nim þonne concoction]  Exorcist takes from herbwoman concoction made the day before.

[do þonne holy water] Exorcist adds holy water to the concoction to make a liquid.

[drype þonne ] drips it three times on the base of each sod (they are green side down).

[cweþe þonne words] Priest and deacon say antiphonally the bilingual formula while exorcist is dripping on each of the four sods, four times:

Priest:              Crescite.                         Deacon: wexe.

                        et multiplicamini.                          et gemænigfealda.

                        et replete.                                     et gefylle.

                        terre.                                           þas eorðan.

Together:  In nomine patris. et filii. et spiritus sancti. Sit benedicti.

At end, they say the Pater noster, the priest in Latin, and deacon and exorcist leading laypeople to say Old English Pater noster (I am using the 11th cen. West Saxon Gospels Matthew version; aloud, takes 38 seconds):

PATER NOSTER, qui es in caelis, sanctificetur nomen tuum. Adueniat regnum tuum. Fiat uoluntas tua, sicut in caelo et in terra. Panem nostrum quotidianum da nobis hodie, et dimitte nobis debita nostra sicut [et] nos dimittimus debitoribus nostris. Et ne inducas nos in temtationem, sed libera nos a malo. Amen.

Fæder ure þu þe eart on heofonum; Si þin nama gehalgod to becume þin rice gewurþe ðin willa on eorðan swa swa on heofonum. urne gedæghwamlican hlaf syle us todæg and forgyf us ure gyltas swa swa we forgyfað urum gyltendum and ne gelæd þu us on costnunge ac alys us of yfele soþlice.

Scene 3 :   After Prime, before Morning Mass; 4 male workers, led by the 3+ clergy.

[bere siþþan turf into church]  In procession, the four men carry the sods into the church, and place them on four sides of altar, with the green sides toward the altar [or are the sods on the altar during the masses said over them, then they are turned during or after the masses?].

Masspriest says four masses throughout day, attended by other clergy and laypersons:

• Morning Mass (after Prime): full sung mass may take 45 min to 1 ½ hours
• Principal or Sunday Mass (after Terce):  either of these two masses could be based on Rogation, Letania major (see Durham Collectar capitula 236-38); or could incorporate the Sunday blessings of salt and water.  See RGP CCXIV B. Benediccio aquae ad seges contra vermes, which has mass prayers.
• Votive Mass (after Sext): shorter, perhaps 30 minutes.
• Votive Mass (after None): same or different from previous?   Examples:

                Missa in Sterilitate Terrae (Leofric Missal 2066-68): 

Da nobis quesumus domine piê supplicationis effectum, et pestilentiam famemque propitiatus auerte, ut mortalium corda cognoscant, et te indignante talia flagella prodire, et miserante cessare. Per…

Secreta:  Deus qui humani generis utramque substantiam, presentium munerum et alimento uegetas et renouas sacramento, tribue quesumus ut eorum et corporibus nostris subsidium non desit et mentibus.  Per….

Ad Compendum:  Guberna quesumus domine et temporalibus adiumentis, quos dignaris aeternis informare mysteriis.  Per….

                Missa contra Obloquentes (Leofric Missal 2020-22):  against those who speak maliciously, seems to accord with OE formulas

Presta quesumus domine, ut mentium reproborum non curemus obloquium, sed eadem prauitate calcata exoramus, ut nec terreri nos lacerationibus patiaris iniustis, nec captiosis adulationibus implicari, sed potius amare quae precipis.

Secreta:  Oblatio domine tuis aspectibus immolanda, quesumus ut et nos ab omnibus uitiis pontenter absoluat, et a cunctis inimicis defendat.  Per dominum.

Ad Complendum:  Praesta domine quesumus ut per haec sancta quae sumpsimus, dissimulatis lacerationibus improborum, eadem te gubernante, quae recta sunt cautius exsequamur.  Per….

                Missa pro Fame ac Pestilentia, Missal of Robert of Jum., p. 269

Sempiternae pietatis tuae abundantiam domine supplices imploramus. ut nos beneficiis quibus non meremur anticiparis [anticipans] bene facere cgnoscaris indignis. per….

Secreta:  Deus qui humani generis utramque substantiam praesentium munerum et alimento uegetas. et renouas sacramento tribue quesumus ut eorum et corporibus nostris subsidium non desit et mentibus. per….

Ad Complendum:  Guberna quesumus domine temporalibus adiumentis. quos dignaris aeternis informare mysteriis. per dominum.

Scene 4 :  Afternoon, after fourth mass, at least one hour before sunset if this is to be completed before dark and vespers; clergy, and whole community.

Repeat at each of the four sides of the field.

[siþþan gebringe turf back to field]  Clergy take the already prepared quickbeam crosses (carried processionally, lifted up), process out to field with four male workers carrying the four sods, trailed by landowner and other residents.  Move to each of the four sides of the field in procession one at a time, to the stone marker previously placed, someone remove stone.

[cweðe ðonne] Deacon or lector puts cross in hole, says:  “Crux Mattheus, crux marcus, crux lucas, curx sanctus iohannus,” making sign of cross each time.

[nim ðonne turf] Each man at each of four stations puts his turf back in place over the cross.

[cweþe ðonne] Priest and deacon do the same antiphonal Crescite and Pater Noster as in scene 2 above, but nine times at each of the four stations (4 recalls the altar; 9 brings us into the secular fields).  By implication, the Crescite and the Pater noster are said nine times at each station, times four (so 36 times!).

Priest:              Crescite.                         Deacon: wexe.

                        et multiplicamini.                          et gemænigfealda.

                        et replete.                                     et gefylle.

                        terre.                                           þas eorðan.

Together:  In nomine patris. et filii. et spiritus sancti. Sit benedicti.

Pater noster, priest says Latin, deacon and exorcist lead laypeople to say Old English Pater noster:

PATER NOSTER, qui es in caelis, sanctificetur nomen tuum. Adueniat regnum tuum. Fiat uoluntas tua, sicut in caelo et in terra. Panem nostrum quotidianum da nobis hodie, et dimitte nobis debita nostra sicut [et] nos dimittimus debitoribus nostris. Et ne inducas nos in temtationem, sed libera nos a malo. Amen.

Fæder ure þu þe eart on heofonum; Si þin nama gehalgod to becume þin rice gewurþe ðin willa on eorðan swa swa on heofonum. urne gedæghwamlican hlaf syle us todæg and forgyf us ure gyltas swa swa we forgyfað urum gyltendum and ne gelæd þu us on costnunge ac alys us of yfele soþlice.

Scene 5 : Sunset, before or in place of Vespers; either on edge of fields, back near the church, setting sun behind them, church in front of them, or even inside the church;  clergy primarily, with any lay members attending.

[wende þe þonne eastward]  Clergyperson (exorcist as performer of cleansing rituals?) turns self eastward, toward church or altar, bows nine times humbly.

[cweð þonne words] Exorcist says:

Eastweard Ic stande                             arena ic me bidde

bidde ic þone mæran .domine.             bidde ðone miclan drihten

bidde Ic ðone haligan                           heofonrices weard .

eorðan ic bidde                                        and upheofon

and ða soþan                                       sancta Marian .

and heofones meaht .                           and heahreced

þæt ic mote þis gealdor                        mid gife drihtnes

toðum on tynan                                   þurh trumne geþanc

aweccan þas wæstmas                          us to woruldnytte

gefylle þas foldan                                 mid fæste geleafan

wlitigigan þas wancgturf                      swa se witega cwæð .

þæt se hæfde are on eorþrice                se þe ælmyssan

dælde domlice                                      drihtnes þances .

[wende þe þonne sunwards] Exorcist turns self three times sunwards.

[astrece þonne on ground] Exorcist stretches out on ground, head toward east, and enumerates litanies, with other clergy echoing. 

NB:  Letanias is ambiguous, whether it means a litany of saints, or a shorter form, or even psalm verses or suffrages of some kind.  It might also be a reference to the Litaniae maiores or minores days (see J. Hill on the conflation of these two in Anglo-Saxon England, such that Litania maiores refers not to the April 25 event but to the three Rogation days prior to Ascension more commonly refered to as Litania minores).

Here I have used a litany of the saints based on Ælfwine’s Prayerbook 75, or see a modern one:

Kyrie, eleison                                         (Kyrie, eleison.)

Christe, eleison                                     (Christe, eleison.)

Kyrie, eleison                                         (Kyrie, eleison.)

Christe, audi nos                                 (Christe, audi nos.)

Christe, exaudi nos.                             (Christe, exaudi nos.)

Pater de celis, Deus,                              (miserere nobis.)

Filius, Redemptor mundi, Deus,      (miserere nobis.)

Spiritus Sanctus, Deus,                         (miserere nobis.)

Sancta Trinitas, unus Deus,                (miserere nobis.)

Sancta Maria,                                           (ora pro nobis)

Sancta Maria, intercede pro me misero/a peccatori/trici.

Sancta Maria, adiuua me in die exitus mei ex hac presenti uita.

Sancta Maria, adiuua me in die tribulationis meae.

Sancta Dei Genetrix,                               (ora pro nobis…)

Sancta Virgo virginum,

Sancte Michael,                                      (ora pro nobis…)

Sancte Gabriel,

Sancte Raphael,

Omnes sancti Angeli et Archangeli,    (orate…)

Omnes sancti throni

Omnes sancti dominationes

Omnes sancti principatus

Omnes sanct potestates

Omnis sancti uirtutes

Sancta Cherubin

Sancta Seraphin

Omnis sancti patriarche et prophete

Sancte Ioannes Baptista,                   (ora pro nobis…)

Sancte Petre,

Sancte Paule,

Sancte Andrea,

Sancte Ioannes,

Sancte Iacobe,

Sancte Philippe,

Sancte Bartolomaee,

Sancte Iacobe,

Sancte Matthaee,

Sancte Thoma,

Sancte Simon,

Sancte Iuda

Sancte Mathia,

Sancte Marce,

Sancte Luca,

Sancte Barnaba,

Omnes sancti apostoli,                (orate pro me indigno/a famulo/a Dei, ut scut doctrina uestra tenebras mundi inluminastis, ita ‘ intercessione uestra iniquitates meas emundetis.)

Omnes sancti Apostoli et Evangelistae,      (orate)

Omnes sancti discipuli Domini,                  (orate pro nobis)

Omnes sancti Innocentes,                             (orate)

Sancte Stephane,                                              (ora…)

Sancte Dionisi cum sociis tuis,

Sancte Line

Sancte Clete

Sancte Clemens

Sancte Xixte

Sancte Cornelii

Sancte Cypriane

Sancte Laurenti

Sancte Ypolite

Sancte Vincenti

Sancte Geruasi

Sancte Prothasi

Sancte Sebastiane

Sancte Maurici cum sociis tuis

Sancte Iohannes

Sancte Paule

Sancte Crisante

Sancte Oswalde

Sancte Eadmunde

Sancte Kenelme

Sancte Albane

Sancte Iuste

Sancte Eadwerde

Sancte Ælfheage

Omnes sancti martyres, subuenite mihi in omni tribulatione, qui per tribulationem martyrii perpetua liberati estis miseria.

Sancte Benedicte,

Sancte Iudoce

Sante Martine

Sancte Hilarii

Sancte Sylvester,

Sancte Gregori,

Sancte Ambrosi,

Sancte Augustine,

Sancte Hieronyme,

Sancte Ambrosi

Sancte Grimbalde

Sancte Agustine

Sancte Cuthberhte

Sancte Birine

Sancte Swiðune

Sancte Remigi

Sancte Germane

Sancte Vedaste

Sancte Amande

Sancte Maure

Sancte Placide

Sancte Antoni

Sancte Machari

Sancte Arseni

Sancte Basili

Omnes sancti confessores, orate pro me indigno peccatori ad Domnum Deum nostrum, ut in confessione eius nominis, dum dies extrema uernerit, merear decedere, qui reum confitendo ianuas/paradysi meruistis introire.

Omnes sancti confessores          (orate pro nobis)

Sancta Felicitas                              (ora…)

Sancta Perpetua

Sancta Maria Magdalene

Sancta Sholastica

Sancta Agathes

Sancta Agnes

Sancta Cecilia

Sancta Lucia

Sancta Anastasia

Sancta Eugenia

Sancta Eulalia

Sancta Iuliana

Sancta Tecla

Sancta Petronella

Sancta Æþeldriða

Sancta Daria

Sancta Eadburh

Sancta Ælfgyfuu

Omnes sanctae Virgines, orate pro me indigno/a famulo/a Dei, ut ab omni merear liberari immunditia delictorum, que perpetua uirginate cum sponso uestro, Domino nostro Iesu Christo, regna possidetis celorum.

Omnes sancte uirgines             (orate)

Onmes sancte uidue                 (orate)

Omnes sancti continentes        (orate)

Sancti Dei, omnes orate pro nobis, ut fugere mereamur a uentura ira.

Omens sancti,                            (orate pro nobis)

Omens sancti,                            (orate pro nobis)

Propitius esto,                            (parce nos, Domine.)

Ab omni malo,                            (libera nos, Domine…)

Ab insidiis diaboli,

A peste superbie

A carnalibus desideriis

A peste et fame et clade

Ab omnibus immunditiis mentis et corporis

A persecutione paganorum et omnium inimicorum nostrorum insidiis

Ab ira et odio et omni malo uoluntate

A uentura ira

A subita et eterna morte

Per crucem et passionem tuam,

Per sanctam resurrectionem tuam,

Per gloriosam ascensionem tuam

Per gratiam sancti Spiritus paracliti

In die iudicii,

Peccatores,                                                    (Te rogamus, audi nos…)

Vt pacem et concordiam nobis dones

Vt sanctam aecclesiam tuam catholicam regere et defensare digneris

Vt domum apostolicum et omnes gradus ecclesiae custordire et conseruare digneris

Vt regi nostro et principibus nostris pacem et uicoriam nobis dones

Vt episcopum et abbatem nostrum et omnem congreationem sibi commissam in sancta religione conseruare digneris

Vt cunctum populum Christianum pretioso sanguine tuo redemptum conseruare digneris

Vt locum istum et omnes habitatnes in eo uistiare et consolare digneris

Vt nos hodie sine peccato custodias

Vt angelum tuum sanctum a[d] tutelam nobis mittere digneris

Vt dies et actus nostros in tua uoluntate disponsas,

Vt remissionem omnium peccatorum nostrorum nobis donare digneris

Vt nobis miseris misericors misereri digneris

Vt congregationem nostram in sancta religione conseruare dingeris

Vt omnibus benefactoribus nostris sempiterna bona retribuas,

Vt flagella que pro peccatis nostris patimur te miserante a nobis auertas

Vt in die obitus nostri spiritum nostrum suscipeas, Domine Iesu

Vt per merita et intercessiones omnium sanctorum tuorum in die iudicii in dextera tua nos collocare digneris, Domine Iesu

Vt peccatis nostris cotidianis cotidie misereraris, Domen Iesu

Vt omnis qui se nostris commendauerunt orationibus conseruare digneris

Vt omnibus qui in nostris recepti sunt orationibus, tam uiuis quam et defunctis uitam aeternam donare dignieris, Domine Iesu

Vt cunctis fidleibus defunctis requiem aeternam donare digneris

Vt nos exaudire digneris

Fili Dei,                                                              (te rogamus, audi nos)

Fili Dei,                                                             (te rogamus, audi nos)

Agnus Dei, qui tollis peccata mundi,     (miserere nobis)

Agnus Dei, qui tollis peccata mundi,       (exaudi nos, Domine.)

Agnus Dei, qui tollis peccata mundi,       (dona nobis pacem.)

Christe,                                                            (audi nos.)

Christe,                                                            (audi nos.)

Kyrie, eleison.                                               (Kyrie, eleison.)

Christe, eleison.                                           (Christe, eleison.)

Kyrie, eleison.                                                (Kyrie, eleison.)

[cweð þonne Tersanctus]  Exorcist, now standing?, says (with other clergy?):

Sanctus, Sanctus, Sanctus

Dominus Deus Sabaoth.

Pleni sunt cæli et terra gloria tua.

Hosanna in excelsis.

Benedictus qui venit in nomine Domini.

Hosanna in excelsis.

[sing þonne Benedicite, Magnificat, Pater noster] Exorcist with outstretched arms sings (with other clergy):

BENEDICITE, omnia opera Domini, Domino; laudate et superexaltate eum in saecula.

BENEDICITE, caeli, Domino, benedicite, angeli Domini, Domino.

BENEDICITE, aquae omnes, quae super caelos sunt, Domino, benedicat omnis virtutis Domino.

BENEDICITE, sol et luna, Domino, benedicite, stellae caeli, Domino.

BENEDICITE, omnis imber et ros, Domino, benedicite, omnes venti, Domino.

BENEDICITE, ignis et aestus, Domino, benedicite, frigus et aestus, Domino.

BENEDICITE, rores et pruina, Domino, benedicite, gelu et frigus, Domino.

BENEDICITE, glacies et nives, Domino, benedicite, noctes et dies, Domino.

BENEDICITE, lux et tenebrae, Domino, benedicite, fulgura et nubes, Domino.

BENEDICAT terra Dominum: laudet et superexaltet eum in saecula.

BENEDICITE, montes et colles, Domino, benedicite, universa germinantia in terra, Domino.

BENEDICITE, maria et flumina, Domino, benedicite, fontes, Domino.

BENEDICITE, cete, et omnia, quae moventur in aquis, Domino, benedicite, omnes volucres caeli, Domino.

BENEDICITE, omnes bestiae et pecora, Domino, benedicite, filii hominum, Domino.

BENEDIC, Israel, Domino, laudate et superexaltate eum in saecula.

BENEDICITE, sacerdotes Domini, Domino, benedicite, servi Domini, Domino.

BENEDICITE, spiritus et animae iustorum, Domino, benedicite, sancti et humiles corde, Domino.

BENEDICITE, Anania, Azaria, Misael, Domino, laudate et superexaltate eum in saecula.

BENEDICAMUS Patrem et Filium cum Sancto Spiritu; laudemus et superexaltemus eum in saecula.

BENEDICTUS es in firmamento caeli et laudabilis et gloriosus in saecula.

Amen.”

MAGNIFICAT anima mea Dominum;

    Et exsultavit spiritus meus in Deo salutari meo,

    Quia respexit humilitatem ancillae suae; ecce enim ex hoc beatam me dicent omnes generationes.

    Quia fecit mihi magna qui potens est, et sanctum nomen ejus,

    Et misericordia ejus a progenie in progenies timentibus eum.

    Fecit potentiam in brachio suo;

    Dispersit superbos mente cordis sui.

    Deposuit potentes de sede, et exaltavit humiles.

    Esurientes implevit bonis, et divites dimisit inanes.

    Suscepit Israel, puerum suum, recordatus misericordiae suae,

    Sicut locutus est ad patres nostros, Abraham et semini ejus in saecula.

    Gloria Patri, et Filio, et Spiritui Sancto,: sicut erat in principio,

    Et nunc, et semper: et in Saecula saeculorum. Amen.

PATER NOSTER, qui es in caelis,  

sanctificetur nomen tuum.

Adueniat regnum tuum.

Fiat uoluntas tua, sicut in caelo et in terra.

Panem nostrum quotidianum  da nobis hodie,

et dimitte nobis debita nostra sicut [et]

nos dimittimus debitoribus nostris.

Et ne inducas nos in temtationem,

sed libera nos a malo. Amen.          

Pater noster thrice, Latin only

Scene 6 : Clergy at church doors, facing fields, landowner and community.

[bebeod closing prayer for congregation]  Priest, commend to:  Christ and Mary, cross, for praise and worship, and for benefit of owner and those serving under him.  Three possible analogues:

1.  A votive office.  For example: Ælfwine’s Prayerbook, items 49-51, 3 special offices for the Trinity, the Cross, and Mary (preceded by this lovely “Quinity” illustration).

 

“Quinity” Ælfwine’s Prayerbook, fol. 75v

 

2.  Capitella for Vespers.  For example:

      Durham A.IV.19 additions, #38, fols 80va23-82ra5 (see Tolhurst, vol. 6, p. 29)

[e] pro omni populo cristiano. saluum fac populum tuum domine et bendic hereditae tuæ. et rege eos et extolle illos usqe in æternum. [Ps. 27:9]

3.  Commendations or suffrages.  For example:

Durham A.IV.19 additions, #2, fols. 62r5ff (Scribe C); see also Leofric Missal, 68-90, cotidianis diebus.

Ab omni malo defendat uos dominus.                                          Amen

A cunctis malis inminentibus liberet nos dominus.                    “

A morte secunda eripiat nos dominus.

Diuina maiestas nost tueatur

Deus dei filius nos benedicere dignetur

Diuina gratia nos benedicat

De sede sancta sua aspiciat nos dominus.

Cretor omnium nos benedicat

Benedixionibus suis repleat nos dominus

Custos omnium custodiat nos christus

Ipse nos benedicat qui nos creauit

Protegat seruos suos omnipotens dominus

Spiritus sanctus nostra inlustrare dignetur corde

Trinitas sancta nos benedicat

Spritus sanctus aperiat nobis sensu cordis

Saluet et benedicat nos omnipotens dominus

In suo sancto seruitio conseruet nos domnus

In sancta religione conseruet nos dominus

Deus miseriatur nostri et benedicat nobis

[post nocturns]

Intercendente pro nobis sanctae dei genetrixcae maria auxiliætur nobis omnipotens dominus. amen.

Per intercessionem sancta dei genetricis maria in suo sancto seruitio confortet nos dominus. amen.

Rex regum et dominus dominantium da pacem in diebus nostris omnipotens dominus amen.

Deus omnipotens sancta trinitas miseriatur nostri qui uiuit in secula seculorum. . amen.

Act III:  Plough Ceremony (Monday)

Scene 1:  Dawn; at church door; landowner and baillif, clergypersons, and 2+ almspersons.

Landowner:  “My brother and sister, please give me the last of your grain.”

Almsman 1:  “My lord, what shall we eat?  We have no land where we can plant our seeds, we must eat them.” Shows small sack of grain, half empty.

Landowner:  “Here is double for what you gave, seed grain from our stores.” Shows sack full of grain.

Almswoman 2: “Bless you.  May your land be productive and suffer no evil.”  They exchange sacks.

Clergyperson offers blessing of almsmen and of seed:

                Capitella for Vespers, Durham A.IV.19 additions #3,8 fols. 80va23-82ra5 (see Tolhurst, vol. 6, p. 29 for discussion)

[m] Pro elemoisinas nobis facientibus in hoc mundo. Dispersit dedit pauperibus. et iustitia eius maet in dæculum sæculi. cor’ eius. [Ps. 111/112:9]

                 Durham Collectar 643 waeter halgunc to ðon ilce

Domine Iesu Christe te supplices oramus ut mittere digneris Spiritum Sanctum tuum et benedictionem tuam cum sancto angelo tuo super creaturam salis et aquae; defendat Deus segetes nostras uel seruos nostros et omnes fructus a uermibus a uolatilibus a demonibus et ab omnibus malis, ut magnifectur nomen tuum Deus in omni loco.  Per Dominum.

                Benedictio Seminis, Missal of Robert of Jum., p. 282 (see also Rivard, p. 57; RGP CCXIII-IV; Franz 1:10).

Omnipotens sempiterne deus. creator generis humani suppliciter tuam clementiam exoramus. ut hoc semen quod in tuo nomine serimus in agros nostros caelistia (sic) benedictione benedicere et multiplicare digneris atque ad maturitatem perducas. ut per universum orbem terrarum conlaudetur dextera tua. per dominum nostrum.

Scene 2:   Full daylight; at field corner where ploughing begins; ploughman; clergypersons, including exorcist with concoction, herbwoman with bread, and audience of owner, workers, their families.

[borige þonne] Ploughman (bailiff?) bores hole in beam, presumably on the plough (or this was done in advance).  Exorcist gives him concoction, he scoops out the contents with knife, smears into hole.  returns jar to clergy person.  [Alternatively, the incense mixture is used to bore the hole, perhaps by burning].

[nim þonne] Landowner takes seed given to him by beggars, puts it on the body of the plough.  Is it stuck to or jammend in with the incense concoction, or does this plough have a automatic dispenser for seed built in?  Overall, this is probably all symbolic sowing, rather than an actual start of ploughing and sowing.

[cweð þonne] Exorcist says:

.Erce. Erce. Erce.                                eorþan modor

geunne þe se alwalda                           ece drihten

æcera wexendra                                   and wridendra

eacniendra                                           and elniendra

sceafta hen se [hehra]                           scire [scirra] wæstma.

and þære[/a] bradan                             berewæstma.

and þæra hwitan                                  hwætewæstma.

and ealra                                              eorþan wæstma.

geunne him                                          ece drihten

and his halige                                       þe on [h]eofonum synt

þæt hys yrþ si gefriþod                         wið ealra feonda gehwæne

and heo si geborgen                             wið ealra bealwa gehwylc

þara lyblaca                                          geond land sawen.

Nu ic bidde ðone waldend                   se ðe ðas wor[u]d gesceop

þæt ne sy nan to þæs cwidol wif           ne to þæs cræftig man

þæt awendan ne mæge                         word þus gecwedene

[cweþe þonne] Clergypersons (priest and deacon) then say [I have taken the liberty of inserting the three times the Crescite is specified to after each of the three Old English formula.]

Priest:              Crescite.                         Deacon: wexe.

                        et multiplicamini.                          et gemænigfealda.

                        et replete.                                     et gefylle.

                        terre.                                           þas eorðan.

Together:  In nomine patris. et filii. et spiritus sancti. Sit benedicti. Amen

[þonne] When ploughman drives plough forward (with or without oxen?), then [cweð þonne] Exorcist says:

Hal wes þu folde                                  fira modor

beo þu growende                                 on godes fæþme

fodre gefylled                                       firum to nytte.

[cweþe þonne] Clergypersons (priest and deacon) then say:

Priest:              Crescite.                         Deacon: wexe.

                        et multiplicamini.                          et gemænigfealda.

                        et replete.                                     et gefylle.

                        terre.                                           þas eorðan.

Together:  In nomine patris. et filii. et spiritus sancti. Sit benedicti. Amen

[nim þonne] Herbwoman puts her breadloaf into the furrow.

[cweþe þonne]  Exorcist then says:

Ful æcer fodres                                    fira cinne

beorhtblowende                                   þu gebletsod weorþ

þæs haligan noman                               þe ðas heofon gesceop

and ðas eorþan                                     þe we on lifiaþ

se god se þas grundas geworhte           geunne us growende gife

þaet us corna gehwylc                          cume to nytte.

[cweþe þonne] Clergypersons (priest and deacon) then say:

Priest:              Crescite.                         Deacon: wexe.

                        et multiplicamini.                          et gemænigfealda.

                        et replete.                                     et gefylle.

                        terre.                                           þas eorðan.

Together:  In nomine patris. et filii. et spiritus sancti. Sit benedicti. Amen

Priest says Latin, deacon and exorcist lead laypeople to say OE Pater noster three times, perhaps as they process around the field:

PATER NOSTER, qui es in caelis, sanctificetur nomen tuum. Adueniat regnum tuum. Fiat uoluntas tua, sicut in caelo et in terra. Panem nostrum quotidianum da nobis hodie, et dimitte nobis debita nostra sicut [et] nos dimittimus debitoribus nostris. Et ne inducas nos in temtationem, sed libera nos a malo. Amen.

Fæder ure þu þe eart on heofonum; Si þin nama gehalgod to becume þin rice gewurþe ðin willa on eorðan swa swa on heofonum. urne gedæghwamlican hlaf syle us todæg and forgyf us ure gyltas swa swa we forgyfað urum gyltendum and ne gelæd þu us on costnunge ac alys us of yfele soþlice.

 

The End

Bibliography

Ælfwine’s Prayerbook (London: British Library, Cotton Tius D.xxvi + xxvii). Ed. Beate Günzel.  Henry Bradshaw Society 108. London: Boydell, 1993.  Cited by item number.

Durham Cathedral Library A.IV.19:

• Corrêa, Alicia, ed. Durham Collectar. Henry Bradshaw Society 107. London:  Boydell Press, 1992. Original Scribe, Latin text only.  Cited by item number.
• Jolly, Karen.  The Community of St. Cuthbert in the Late Tenth Century: The Chester-le-Street Additions to Durham Cathedral Library A.IV.19. The Ohio State University Press, 2012. Cited by item number and folios.

Franz, Adolph, ed. Die kirchlichen benediktionem des Mittelalter. 2 Vols. Freiberg im Breisgau: M. Herder, 1909; reprint, Graz: Akademische Druck-Verlagsanstalt, 1961.

Hill, Joyce. “The Litaniae Maiores and Minores in Rome, Francia and Anglo-Saxon England: Terminology, Texts and Traditions,” Early Medieval Europe 9 (2000): 211–46.

Hughes, Andrew, Medieval Manuscripts for Mass and Office:  A Guide to their Organization and Terminology. Toronto:  University of Toronto Press, 1982.

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Missal of Robert of Jumièges.  Ed. H. A. Wilson.  Henry Bradshaw Society 11. London:  Boydell, 1896; repr. 1994.

Rivard, Derek A. Blessing the World: Ritual and Lay Piety in Medieval Religion. Washington, D.C.: The Catholic University of America Press, 2009.

Salisbury, Matthew Cheung, ed. Medieval Latin Liturgy in English Translation.  Kalamazoo:  TEAMS, 2017.

Tolhurst, J. B. L. The Monastic Breviary of Hyde Abbey, Winchester. 6 Vols. Henry Bradshaw Society 69–71, 76, 78, 80. London: Harrison and Sons, 1932–42. Citations to Volume 6 (HBS 80), London, 1942.

Vogel, Cyrille, R. Elze, and Michel Andrieu. Le pontifical romano-germanique du dixieme siecle. 3 Vols. Studi e Testi 226, 227, 269. Vatican City, 1963–72. [RGP]