Studies in Medieval and Renaissance History, series 3, volume 18: Essays in Memory of Paul E. Szarmach, part 2 (Studies in Medieval and Renaissance History 2024, ser. 3, no. 18) [New ed.] 1802701397, 9781802701395

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STUDIES IN MEDIEVAL AND RENAISSANCE HISTORY

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STUDIES IN MEDIEVAL AND RENAISSANCE HISTORY Series 3 | Vol. 18

ESSAYS IN MEMORY OF PAUL E. SZARMACH, PART 2

Edited by

JOEL T. ROSENTHAL and VIRGINIA BLANTON

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CONTENTS

Introduction ���������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������ix

The Development of Constantinian Themes and Their Manifestation in Writings and Coinages of Early England ROBERT SCHICHLER ��������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 1 Echo and Icon: Life in Stone at Bewcastle, Cumbria CATHERINE E. KARKOV��������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 17 Jerome of Strido at Chelles:: The Legacy of Quedlinburg Codex 74 HELENE SCHECK ��������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 33 Revisiting the Maaseik Zoomorphic Embroideries GALE R. OWEN-CROCKER����������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 73 The Old English Version of Alexander’s Letter to Aristotelesand its Use of Binomials HANS SAUER†��������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 95

Agency and Obedience: The Afterlife of St. Swithun in Anglo-Saxon England RHONDA L. McDANIEL���������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������131 B. and the Vita Harlindis et Renulae ROSALIND LOVE���������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������139 Wheelock’s Bede and Its Supplementary Materials: Goals and Methods TIMOTHY GRAHAM �������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������161

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS Tables Table 3.1: Structural Overview of Halle, ULB, Quedlinburg Codex 74�������������������������� 37

Table 3.2: Manuscripts in the Qu. Cod. 74 Family �������������������������������������������������������������� 38 Table 8.1: Old English Texts Quoted by Wheelock in the Notes to His Edition of Bede’s Ecclesiastical History���������������������������������������������������������������������������� 184

Figures

Figure 1.1: Bronze Nummus of Constantine I struck at London ca. 311– 312; and Silver Penny of Æthelred II struck at Thetford ca. 1003– 1009������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������ 15

Figure 2.1: The Blowing Stone. Photograph by Rob Bradford. ���������������������������������������� 18

Figure 2.2: The Ruthwell Cross, Dumfries������������������������������������������������������������������������������ 19

Figure 2.3: The Bewcastle Cross, Cumberland, west side. ������������������������������������������������ 20 Figure 2.4: The Bewcastle Cross, east side.���������������������������������������������������������������������������� 28 Figure 2.5: Detail of the Bewcastle Cross with lichen.�������������������������������������������������������� 30 Figure 3.1: Opening of item VI, Origen’s second homily on Song of Songs, translated by Jerome.���������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 34

Figure 3.2: Typical scribal annotation marks. Landesbibliothek SachsenAnhalt, Quedlinburg Codex 74, fol. 91v. ������������������������������������������������������������ 35 Figure 3.3: Halle (Saale), Universitäts- und Landesbibliothek SachsenAnhalt, Quedlinburg Codex 74, fol. 306r. ���������������������������������������������������������� 43

Figure 3.4: Paris, Bibliothèque nationale de France, MS Latin 1869, fol. 73v. ������������ 43

Figure 3.5: Halle (Saale), Universitäts- und Landesbibliothek SachsenAnhalt, Quedlinburg Codex 74, fol. 30r.�������������������������������������������������������������� 44

Figure 3.6: Paris, Bibliothèque nationale de France, MS Latin 1869, fol. 185v.���������� 44

Figure 3.7: Halle (Saale), Universitäts- und Landesbibliothek SachsenAnhalt, Quedlinburg Codex 74, fol. 88v. ������������������������������������������������������������ 44

Figure 3.8: Paris, Bibliothèque nationale de France, MS Latin 1869, fol. 229r. ���������� 44

viii

List of Illustrations

Figure 3.8: Paris, Bibliothèque nationale de France, MS Latin 1869, fol. 229r. ���������� 44



Figures in Appendix B: Comparison of stylistic features in Halle, ULB, Quedlinburg Codex 74 and Paris, BnF, Latin 1869.������������������������������ 60

Figure 4.1: The casula of Saints Harlindis and Relindis, composite textile. Maaseik, Belgium, Church of St. Catherine.���������������������������������������� 74

Figure 4.2: The Arcade strips, silk embroidery on linen, late eighth or early ninth century.�������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 77 Figure 4.3: Inhabited horizontal scroll, fragment of a stone frieze, preViking. Breedon-on-the-Hill, Leicestershire, United Kingdom, Church of St. Mary and St. Hardulph.������������������������������������������������������������������ 81

Figure 4.4: Roundel strip A, silk embroidery on linen, late eighth or early ninth century.�������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 84

Figure 4.5: Roundel strip B, silk embroidery on linen, late eighth or early ninth century.�������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 84

Figure 8.1: Opening entries of the G section of Wheelock’s subject index for the manuscript. Cambridge, Cambridge University Library, MS Ii. 4. 6, fol. 316r (detail).���������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 177 Figure 8.2: Opening of Wheelock’s transcript of the first section of Ælfric’s First Series homily for the Assumption. Cambridge, Cambridge University Library, MS Gg. 3. 28, verso of the second of eight leaves inserted by Wheelock after fol. 94.�������������������������������������������� 181

INTRODUCTION IN SEEKING TO honour Paul E. Szarmach’s commitment to medieval studies—and his role as co-editor of Studies in Medieval and Renaissance History (SMRH)—we organized a series of three panels at the 57th International Congress on Medieval Studies at Western Michigan University in 2022. The call for papers drew scholars from around the world, and the panels were bursting at the seams. Fifteen papers of exceptional quality were presented. We cheered as we raised a glass in Paul’s memory, celebrating his contributions in Kalamazoo and more. As was true with the Congress panels, there was significant interest in developing these papers for a special issue of SMRH, and contributions numbered more than one volume could sustain. Volume 17, published in 2023, features nine articles on late medieval literature, history, and culture, as well as studies of medievalism. A few were accepted for publication before Paul’s death, but the majority were cultivated to honour his legacy, as are the contributions that constitute Volume 18. The following, which are offered by long-time colleagues and former students, are focused on early medieval England and beyond, a tribute to Paul’s engagement with early saints’ lives, Anglo-Latin and Carolingian manuscript production, and the reception of early literature and history. Volume 18, which will conclude Joel Rosenthal’s stint as editor of SMRH, will fittingly close the chapter on his long-time collaboration with Paul, but we would be remiss not to indicate how Paul has (posthumously) fostered yet another collaboration that has resulted in the publication of excellent scholarship. Paul loved to bring people together and to publish their smart ideas. In taking up the editing of these volumes, we have enjoyed rich conversations with the various contributors and know readers will find much here to provoke further scholarly engagement. We are grateful to acknowledge too the many rewards we have discovered during our partnership as editors. Paul is the lodestar that framed this work, and we are all enriched by the results. Nota bene: SMRH vol. 17 and subsequent volumes are now published by Arc Humanities Press. After this volume, the journal will be titled Studies in Medieval and Renaissance Sources. To continue or start a subscription, please contact the Journals Manager Rob Edwards at [email protected].

Chapter 1

THE DEVELOPMENT OF CONSTANTINIAN THEMES AND THEIR MANIFESTATION IN WRITINGS AND COINAGES OF EARLY ENGLAND ROBERT SCHICHLER THE RISE TO power of Constantine had an important and lasting impact on British history, literature, coinage, and art. To this day, his association with Britain continues to be highly regarded and observed, as shown in the exhibition and book, Constantine the Great: York’s Roman Emperor, celebrating, in 2006, the 1,700th anniversary of his accession at York upon his father Constantius’s death on July 25, 306.1 Although Constantine initially took the title of Augustus (i.e., Emperor) as successor to his father, he later changed his mind because such an assumption of power was an illegal act in the tetrarchic system of the time, accepting instead from the Augustus Galerius the legitimate title of Caesar.2 Yet the transfer of power from father to son in Britain would continue to be important to Constantine personally, to Roman Britannia, and to Early England. Upon Constantine’s promotion, however, a resentful Maxentius, retired Emperor Maximian’s son who found himself left out of the succession, usurped power in Rome on October 28, 306, only to be defeated six years later, to the day, by Constantine during the battle at the Milvian Bridge, October 28, 312.3 Leading up to that encounter, while recruiting forces, Constantine apparently made a return visit to Britain in late 311 or the early part of 312, commemorated by a special adventus coin-type that was produced as part of a large issue with a wide range of types (notably an armoured-bust type to be discussed at greater length below), struck at the London Mint in preparation for Constantine’s campaign against Maxentius.4 Thus Britain came to serve as a double starting 1 Elizabeth Hartley et al., Constantine the Great: York’s Roman Emperor (York: York Museums Trust, 2006).

2 David L. Vagi, Coinage and History of the Roman Empire, 2 vols. (Sidney: Amos, 1999), 1: 475. See also Noel Lenski, “The Reign of Constantine,” in The Cambridge Companion to the Age of Constantine, ed. Noel Lenski, rev. ed. (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2012), 59–90, at 62. 3 Hartley et al., Chronology, in Constantine the Great, 12–13.

4 See C. H. V. Sutherland, The Roman Imperial Coinage VI: From Diocletian’s Reform (A.D. 294) to the Death of Maximinus (A.D. 313) (London: Spink, 1967), 120–21; as well as Hubert J. Cloke and Lee Toone, The London Mint of Constantius and Constantine (London: Spink, 2015), 55–58. For an excellent photograph of the arrival (adventus) coin of Constantine, featuring on its reverse the emperor on horseback with his hand raised in greeting, and for a suggestion that the imperial visit to Britain occurred as late as the summer of 312, see Hartley et al., “Catalogue”, in Constantine the Great,” item 87 (Nummus of Constantine the Great), 143. See also Cloke and Toone, The London Mint, 160–63, for a listing of Constantine’s adventus-type nummi, with twenty-four representative specimens on the plates.

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point for him: a place to which he would always trace the root of his authority and a place from which he could fund that decisive march to Rome. Eusebius’s Life of Constantine, composed after the emperor’s death in 337, describes Constantine’s determination to set out on that campaign to liberate Rome from Maxentius and how Constantine called upon the god of his father Constantius (actually Sol Invictus, “the unconquered sun,” whose image appears on many of Constantine’s coins) to protect him against the sorcery of the enemy. Upon praying to that One Supreme God to “stretch out his right hand to assist him in his plans,” as Constantine recalled to Eusebius years after the event, “about the time of the midday sun…he said he saw with his own eyes, up in the sky and resting over the sun, a cross-shaped trophy formed from light, and a text attached to it which said, ‘By this conquer.’” Then, as he slept that night, “the Christ of God appeared to him with the sign which had appeared in the sky, and urged him to make himself a copy of the sign which had appeared in the sky, and to use this as protection against the attacks of the enemy.”5 The whole Italian campaign then follows in Eusebius’s account, with victory after victory against Maxentius’s armies, before reaching the tyrant himself, who remained in Rome. Eusebius draws a sharp distinction between Constantine and Maxentius in terms of their valour, regard for the people, and reliance upon the supernatural: Maxentius put his confidence more in the devices of sorcery than in the loyalty of his subjects and did not even dare to go beyond the gates of the city…But the Emperor [Constantine] who relied upon the support of God attacked the first, second, and third formations of the tyrant, overcame them all quite easily at the very first onslaught, and advanced to occupy most of the land of Italy.6

The panegyrist of the year 313 describes the situation in the city at the time, painting Maxentius as a despicable coward: When all Italy this side of the Po had been recovered, Rome herself extended suppliant hands to you, Rome, where that monster had squatted, not daring to attempt anything in response to so many announcements of disasters suffered by his forces. Rather the vile creature’s very cowardice kept him under siege and, as the saying is, fear revealed the spirit of an ignoble man. The stupid, worthless creature never dared to go outside his walls, for thus he was warned either by omens or by the forebodings of his fear. For shame, an Emperor inside the protection of his walls!7

Differing from Eusebius, Lactantius places the story about the heavenly sign right before the decisive battle at the Milvian Bridge. Composing his pamphlet On the Deaths of the Persecutors between the years 318 and 321—considerably closer to the time of the events than Eusebius—Lactantius gives more credit to the Maxentian forces despite the 5 Eusebius of Caesarea, Life of Constantine, ed. and trans. Averil Cameron and Stuart G. Hall (Oxford: Clarendon, 1999), 1.28–29. 6 Eusebius, Life of Constantine, 1.37.2.

7 In Praise of Later Roman Emperors: The Panegyrici Latini, ed. and trans. C. E. V. Nixon and Barbara Saylor Rodgers (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1994), Panegyric 12.14.2–3.



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tyrant’s refusal to set foot outside Rome himself.8 The leaders were capable, with the advantage of greater strength in numbers, and “were gaining until after Constantine, with strengthened courage and prepared for both outcomes, moved all his troops closer to the city and settled at the region of the Milvian Bridge.”9 Lactantius’s description of the heavenly sign is difficult to translate, and interpretations vary; the Latin reads: Commonitus est in quiete Constantinus, ut caeleste signum Dei notaret in scutis, atque ita proelium committeret. Fecit ut jussus est, et transversa X littera, summo capite circumflexo, Christum in scutis notat. Quo signo armatus exercitus capit ferrum.10

That is, Constantine was directed in his sleep that he should mark the heavenly sign of God on the shields, and so should he join the battle. He did as he was commanded, and with the letter X lying across, the top turned around thus, he inscribes [the monogram of] “Christ” on the shields. With his shift to present tense (“notat”), Lactantius’s description reads like a demonstration of the process, as though he is drawing the monogram while explaining it. He continues in present tense, bringing his audience seemingly into the action. Translations of Lactantius’s wording vary, especially in regard to the way that the monogram is crossed (“transversa X littera, summo capite circumflexo”). Ildar Garipzanov’s translation “by means of a letter X crossed through, with the upper tip [of the crossing line] bent around” suggests the chi-rho Christogram, but Garipzanov points also to the possibility of textual corruption in the lone extant manuscript and to others’ suggestions for the monogram such as a tau-rho staurogram.11 Michael Squire and Christopher Whitton provide a translation of Lactantius’s words that would suggest the staurogram (“by means of a rotated letter X with its upper tip curved around”),12 and they point out that both the chi-rho and the tau-rho appear in some early catacomb funerary inscriptions with elusive chronology, providing one illustrated example where both signs occur, each between the letters alpha and omega.13 They suggest an early fourthcentury date for that particular example, but probably not pre-dating Constantine’s vision if Garipzanov is correct that “the extant corpus of material evidence suggests that the addition of an alpha and omega to chi-rho and tau-rho signs…took place after the reign of Constantine.”14 Despite their translation of Lactantius’s sign as “a rotated letter 8 See the Introduction to Lactantius, On the Deaths of the Persecutors, in Lactantius: The Minor Works, trans. Mary Francis McDonald (Washington, DC: Catholic University of America Press, 1965), 126–27. 9 Lactantius, On the Deaths of the Persecutors, 190 (chap. 44).

10 Lactantius, Liber de Mortibus Persecutorum, chap. 44, Latin text from Patrologia Latina, ed. Jacques-Paul Migne, vol. 7, col. 260, accessed online at earlychurchtexts.com.

11 Ildar Garipzanov, Graphic Signs of Authority in Late Antiquity and the Early Middle Ages, 300– 900 (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2018), 51–52.

12 Michael Squire and Christopher Whitton, “Machina sacra: Optatian and the Lettered Art of the Christogram,” in Graphic Signs of Identity, Faith, and Power in Late Antiquity and the Early Middle Ages, ed. Ildar Garipzanov, Caroline Goodson, and Henry Maguire (Turnhout: Brepols, 2017), 45– 108, at 74. 13 Squire and Whitton, “Machina sacra,” 73, fig. 2.12. 14 Garipzanov, Graphic Signs of Authority, 53.

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X with its upper tip curved around,” however, Squire and Whitton do not make a case for a staurogram; rather, they explain the importance of the event at the Milvian Bridge in popularizing and giving new meaning to the chi-rho: It was nonetheless in the early fourth century during Constantine’s principate, that the chi-rho monogram took on a new significance and popularity. Ultimately, the rise of the motif can be explained with reference to the “heavenly sign” (caeleste signum) that, according to Lactantius, Constantine observed shortly before the battle of the Milvian bridge in October 312…The exact form of Constantine’s apparition and resulting military signum…has been much contested. We can be relatively sure, however, that by the 320s or so, this caeleste signum was understood as a schematic chi-rho.15

Garipzanov agrees with this assessment, pointing to Lactantius’s role as Latin instructor of Constantine’s son Crispus and how his account may have been influential in the featuring of the sign in coinage a decade after the Battle at the Milvian Bridge, now with greater Christian significance: In the 320s and 330s, when the Christian connotations of the Battle of the Milvian Bridge acquired a more prominent symbolic role for Constantinian emperorship, his triumphant sign became firmly linked to the chi-rho in the public’s mythologized perception of the emperor. Lactantius’ work must have been influential in the creation of that myth. As if echoing Lactantius’ text, a chi-rho was chosen to be one of the symbols that appeared on the shield of Constantine’s son Crispus on the obverse of a series of copper coins issued c. 322–3 in Trier, the location of Crispus’ imperial residence. It is known that, after moving to Constantine’s headquarters in Trier, Lactantius instructed Crispus in Latin, suggesting that the text of De mortibus persecutorum might have been known at that court and by local mint masters in particular. The teacher’s story could thus have influenced that particular numismatic image of his pupil.16

Although Eusebius wrote his Life of Constantine some twenty years after Lactantius described the sign, a comparison of Lactantius’s account to the Latin version of Eusebius’s account in the Patrologia Graeca does offer some insights and a degree of clarification, admittedly slanted in favour of a chi-rho interpretation. According to Eusebius, the sign consists of two letters (“duae litterae”) that clearly denote the name of Christ: “duae videlicet litterae, nomen Christi primis apicibus designabant, littera, ρ, in medio sui decussata.”17 As in the original Greek, the letter rho (ρ) is included in the text, without the need for its description, while the chi (Χ) is instead described (the letter ρ “marked with a cross in its middle” [“in medio sui decussata”]). Interestingly, Lactantius provides us with the actual letter chi (Χ) and Eusebius gives us the rho (ρ), while describing the way their respective letters are crossed. The two authors together thus offer us the chirho as they complement each other’s choice of letter in describing the sign. The chi-rho, in fact, had appeared in Constantinian coinage contemporary with Lactantius’s record of the victory at the Milvian Bridge, notably on the obverse of a silver 15 Squire and Whitton, “Machina sacra,” 76 and 77, fig. 2.13. 16 Garipzanov, Graphic Signs of Authority, 54.

17 Eusebius, De Vita Constantini, 1.31, in Patrologia Graeca, ed. Jacques-Paul Migne, vol. 20, cols. 945–46, accessed online at earlychurchtexts.com.



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medallion struck at Ticinum ca. 315, boldly displayed on the crest of the emperor’s helmet.18 Furthermore, according to Eusebius and confirmed in coinages of Constantine and his successors, the chi-rho was displayed on a standard called a labarum; Eusebius’s complete description of the labarum reads: It was constructed to the following design. A tall pole plated with gold had a transverse bar forming the shape of a cross. Up at the extreme top a wreath woven of precious stones and gold had been fastened. On it two letters, intimating by its first characters the name “Christ,” formed the monogram of the Savior’s title, rho being intersected in the middle by chi. These letters the Emperor also used to wear upon his helmet in later times. From the transverse bar, which was bisected by the pole, hung suspended a cloth, an imperial tapestry covered with a pattern of precious stones fastened together, which glittered with shafts of light, and interwoven with much gold, producing an impression of indescribable beauty on those who saw it. This banner then, attached to the bar, was given equal dimensions of length and breadth. But the upright pole, which extended upwards a long way from its lower end, below the trophy of the cross and near the top of the tapestry delineated, carried the golden head-and-shoulders portrait of the Godbeloved Emperor, and likewise of his sons. This saving sign was always used by the Emperor for protection against every opposing and hostile force, and he commanded replicas of it to lead all his armies.19

While confirming Eusebius’s claim that “Constantine personally placed that sign [the chi-rho] on his helmet soon after the battle, and the emperor is indeed shown wearing a helmet with an apotropaic chi-rho on its crest” on the aforementioned medallion from Ticinum, Garipzanov cautions however that Eusebius’s account of the appearance of the celestial sign and his description of the labarum “reflected a modified remembrance of the Battle of the Milvian Bridge in the late 320s and 330s, when the chi-rho had become the triumphant graphic sign of Christ par excellence.”20 In 327 ad, ten years before Eusebius began composition of his Life of Constantine, a rendering of Constantine’s labarum had appeared on the reverse of one of his coins: a Christogram-topped standard, the shaft of which pierces a serpent, commemorating the emperor’s victories for the sake of his people, with the legend “spes pvblic” (the public hope). On the banner are three discs that, as explained by Eusebius, would have carried images of Constantine and his sons.21 That the shaft of the coin’s labarum pierces the serpent is worthy of note, as it is true to Eusebius’s original Greek account and the later Latin translation, in which it is regarded as a tall spear or pike (Greek ὑ� ψηλό� ν δό� ρυ and Latin hasta longior). The labarum featured on other coins is less elaborate, usually a simple standard bearing the chi-rho sign, sometimes with a fancier shaft. Among the coins of Constan18 Squire and Whitton, “Machina sacra,” 74–75. See also Bruno Bleckmann, “Sources for the History of Constantine,” in The Cambridge Companion to the Age of Constantine, ed. Lenski, 14–31, at 19–20 (coin 1 among the plates). 19 Eusebius, Life of Constantine 1.31.1–3. See also Garipzanov, Graphic Signs of Authority, 54–55. 20 Garipzanov, Graphic Signs of Authority, 54–56 and fig. 2.1.

21 See Patrick M. Bruun, ed., The Roman Imperial Coinage, VII, Constantinople, no. 19; cf. also no. 26. See the photograph and description of this coin type in Hartley et al., Catalogue, item 92 (Nummus of Constantine the Great), 145. See also Garipzanov, Graphic Signs of Authority, 61, fig. 2.5.

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tine’s successors of particular interest were those that were struck at Siscia shortly after Constantine’s death and at mid-century. On September 9, 337 (less than four months after their father’s death [May 22]) his three sons assumed the title of Augustus and immediately proceeded to strike coins depicting on the reverse a standard featuring a chi-rho banner upon an ornate shaft with three vertically arranged rings reminiscent of the three horizontal discs on their father’s banner.22 Even more significant are those coins that were struck at Siscia in the names of both Vetranio and Constantine’s son Constantius II in 350, bearing the reverse legend “hoc signo victor eris” (By this sign you will be the victor) around a depiction of the emperor holding a chi-rho banner and being crowned with a wreath by Victory. Other mid-fourth-century coins of special importance to later discussion in this essay are those that were struck in the names of the usurper Magnentius, his brother Decentius, and Constantius II, upon the reverse of which a large chi-rho monogram—Constantine’s sign of sure victory—appears at centre, flanked by the Greek letters Α and ω (alpha and omega). These coins are believed to have been the first to combine the symbols in this arrangement, which would become quite popular in Christian art shortly thereafter, and notably in Britain.23 As noted earlier, and charted by Garipzanov in both absolute numbers and percentages, Christograms with alpha and omega on datable Roman Christian inscriptions appeared only after the middle of the fourth century, consistent with the production of this Magnentian coin type. Garipzanov offers the following explanation and possible interpretation: The introduction of an alpha and omega design onto Roman coinage corresponds chronologically to a similar usage of these symbolic letters in securely dated epigraphic evidence from Roman catacombs. The earliest precisely datable funerary inscription featuring a chi-rho and an alpha and omega was inscribed in 355, and in the last four decades of the fourth century these apocalyptic letters accompanied the majority of epigraphic christograms in Rome. These data suggest that the appearance of the new numismatic form of chi-rho on Magnentius’ coinage might have reflected a more general trend in the western Roman provinces. The western use of the two symbolic letters alongside christograms may have been prompted by strife between the adherents of Nicean orthodoxy, supported by the Western Roman emperors Constans I (337–50) and subsequently Magnentius and Valentinian I (364–75), and the Arians, supported by the Eastern emperors Constantius II (337–61) and later Valens I (364–78).24

Garipzanov states that “this innovation has been usually viewed in the context of Magnentius’ challenge to the Arian emperor Constantius II, since the addition of these two letters might have played on their strong anti-Arian Christological connotation, with reference to Revelations, 1.8 and 22.13,” thus suggesting that Magnentius “chose to present himself as the imperial defender of orthodoxy in his struggle against Constantine 22 See J. P. C. Kent, ed., The Roman Imperial Coinage, VIII, Siscia, nos. 85–104, struck September 337 through Spring 340. See also Garipzanov, Graphic Signs of Authority, 62, fig. 2.6. 23 One of the most impressive examples in art appears on a wall panel from a Roman villa at Lullingstone, now on display in the British Museum, painted probably in the late fourth century according to Garipzanov, Graphic Signs of Authority, 76. 24 Garipzanov, Graphic Signs of Authority, 68 and 69, charts 2.4–2.5.



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I’s own son.”25 However, that interpretation does not account for the issuance of coins of this type in the name of Constantius II at Trier, thought to have been struck by a certain “Poemenius” as the city switched sides and allied itself with Constantius.26 What is certain, however, is that Magnentius appropriated the chi-rho sign as an attempt to legitimize his power, as Garipzanov explains: “Magnentius strived to bolster his imperial position in the Western Roman empire by presenting himself in the guise of Constantine’s legitimate heir, and the numismatic appropriation of Constantine’s triumphant symbol served that goal as well as marriage to the latter’s distant relative Justina.”27 Just as important to Constantine as the Christogram, it seems, is the “right hand of power,” whether it be the traditional Roman Manus or the Christian Manus Dei (“Hand of God,” sometimes termed, more precisely, Dextera Dei). As already stated, Constantine’s prayer to his father’s God to reach out His right hand to him was answered in Eusebius’s account with the vision of the marvellous sign of victory in the heavens. In Lactantius’s account, the hand of God made a sudden appearance over the battle line at the Milvian Bridge, turning the tide against an emboldened Maxentius, whose expectation of success proved false as he turned, fled, and was drowned in the Tiber.28 Then, to commemorate his victory over Maxentius, Constantine struck coins at the newly liberated mints of Rome and Ostia that featured on the reverse a legionary eagle between two standards, the one on the left surmounted by an open right hand (i.e., the Roman Manus, symbolic of the soldiers’ trust and their loyalty to a leader).29 Ultimately, the most visible manifestation of the image occurs on the reverse of a posthumous coin-type struck in abundance at mints across the Empire, showing the hand of God reaching down to Constantine, the emperor’s own right arm raised in response as he rides in a quadriga below.30 Eusebius, in fact, attests to the popularity and importance of these coins, describing them as “portraying the Blessed One on the obverse in the form of one with head veiled [i.e., a portrait of Constantine consistent with the customary depiction of deified rulers on Roman coins], on the reverse like a charioteer on a quadriga, being taken up by a right hand stretched out to him from above.”31 This posthumous coinage, moreover, is suggestive of a theme that Constantine himself traced back to Britain. In their book, The Romans Who Shaped Britain, Sam Moorhead and David Stuttard write of the emperor’s life-long connection to Britain, 25 Garipzanov, Graphic Signs of Authority, 68 and fig. 2.10.

26 See Fernando Lopez-Sanchez and Richard Abdy, Bridgnorth Hoard Official Report, British Museum Report, BM ref.: 2007 T664, in which are recorded forty “chi-rho” coins from Trier that were struck in the name of Constantius II. 27 Garipzanov, Graphic Signs of Authority, 67–68.

28 Lactantius, On the Deaths of the Persecutors, 191–92 (chap. 44).

29 See Sutherland, The Roman Imperial Coinage, VI, Rome, nos. 345–52, struck 312–313 ad.

30 See Kent, The Roman Imperial Coinage, VIII, Trier, nos. 44 and 68; Lyons, nos. 12 and 17; Arles, no. 42; Heraclea, nos. 13 and 14; Constantinople, nos. 37, 39, and 52; Nicomedia, nos. 4, 18, and 25; Cyzicus, nos. 4, 19, 25, and 30; Antioch, nos. 37 and 39; Alexandria, nos. 4, 12, and 22.

31 Eusebius, Life of Constantine, 4.73.1 (trans. Cameron and Hall); quoted in Lenski, “The Reign of Constantine,” 82 (coin 22 among the plates).

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illustrating their point with a quotation from an edict of Constantine, ca. 323, which Eusebius included in his Life of Constantine, book 2, chapter 28: “So beginning at the far Britannic ocean, and the regions where, according to Nature’s law, the sun sinks beyond the horizon, with the help of God I banished and removed completely every form of evil, in the hope that the human race, enlightened through me, might be brought back to a proper observance of the holy laws of God, and at the same time our most blessed faith might prosper under the guidance of His almighty hand.”32 Thus, in this recollection of his British beginnings and subsequent good works, Constantine stresses the importance of the “hand of God.” Garipzanov explains that the legend attributing to Helena, Constantine’s mother, the leading role in finding the True Cross “most likely originated in the second half of the fourth century.”33 Shortly afterwards, ca. 402, Rufinus of Aquileia composed a Latin version of Eusebius’s Ecclesiastical History wherein “he projected the changing visual symbolism of his age onto the description of events in 312. Consequently, he augmented Eusebius’ text with a passage on Constantine’s vision before the battle of Milvian Bridge. According to Rufinus, Constantine saw in the fiery sky not the chi-rho but the sign of the cross…Consequently, the emperor entered the battle under cross-shaped military standards, whilst allegedly carrying a gold material symbol of that cross…in his right hand.”34 Thenceforward, as the legend of the Invention of the Cross continued to receive further development, the cross came to be regarded as the prime symbol of victory, along with the right hand of power, in literary, artistic, and numismatic treatments to come. Even after the Romans withdrew their forces from Britain, the story and example of Constantine remained popular there, and Constantinian themes surfaced in the literature, art, and coinage of the island well into the Anglo-Saxon period. As Jane Hawkes observes, Bede, in his Ecclesiastical History of the English People, completed in 731, “presents an Anglo-Saxon view of Constantine as an exemplary ruler who combated false doctrine, who raised churches whose function was central to the commemoration, promotion and implementation of salvation in his newly established Christian empire, and whose endeavours brought him everlasting fame. Accomplishing this, ‘he transcended in renown the reputation of former princes, and surpassed all his predecessors as much in fame as he did in good works.’”35 From a very early period, an upward gaze reminiscent of the so-called “eyes-toGod” portraits on a number of Constantine’s coins had appeared on Anglo-Saxon gold 32 Sam Moorhead and David Stuttard, The Romans Who Shaped Britain (New York: Thames and Hudson, 2012), 197. 33 Garipzanov, Graphic Signs of Authority, 88. See also Samuel N. C. Lieu, “Constantine in Legendary Literature,” in The Cambridge Companion to the Age of Constantine, ed. Lenski, 298–321, at 304, where Lieu states, “The story was sufficiently well known for it to be included by Ambrose in his obituary sermon on the emperor Theodosius delivered in 395, and Paulinus of Nola was eager to recount his version of it in a letter to the historian Sulpicius Severus in 402/3.” 34 Garipzanov, Graphic Signs of Authority, 88.

35 Jane Hawkes, “The Legacy of Constantine in Anglo-Saxon England,” in Constantine the Great, 104–14, at 104; see also her note at 114n6.



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shillings that were certainly inspired by the Roman prototypes. Especially noteworthy among those early issues is the “Constantine” type36 struck during the Pale Gold Phase (ca. 650–675), which, according to Tony Abramson, “is evidently based on the heavenward gaze of Constantine and his transformative dream-vision as a precursor to victory over Maxentius at Milvian Bridge in October 312.”37 Featured prominently on this type, moreover, is a large upraised hand reaching to touch an elevated cross before the portrait. For this reason numismatists sometimes refer to the shilling as an “oath-taking” type.38 Certain coins of Offa, who ruled in Mercia from 757 until 796, also feature a heavenward gaze, and even a bust with a vision of the cross on one variety of the Light Coinage struck before ca. 792/3.39 As Rory Naismith explains, “The most elegant portraits of the period were those placed on the Light Coinage of Offa, some of which carried highly specific associations with Constantine the Great and the biblical King David, both favourite models for early medieval kingship.”40 Among the vernacular works of the period that tell of Constantine are the long Old English poem Elene by Cynewulf, who flourished sometime between the late eighth and early tenth centuries, and two notable tenth-century homilies on the Finding of the True Cross. As Mary-Catherine Bodden suggests, a comparison of the oldest extant English version of the story in one homily with that in the other homily, the Latin manuscript tradition, and Elene “allows us to construct a native homiletic tradition for the narrative which stretches from Cynewulf to Ælfric.”41 The main source for both Elene and the earlier homily is the Acta Cyriaci, but “besides one or two differences, the poet of Elene incorporated nearly the entire matter of his Latin sources; the homily does not,” states Bodden.42 Their shared account of Constantine’s dream vision, the sign of Christ’s cross in the heavens, the construction and raising of the standard of victory (as 36 Jeffrey J. North, English Hammered Coinage, vol. 1 (London: Spink, 1994), 54, no. 17, and pl. 1, no. 6. See also Anna Gannon, British Museum Anglo-Saxon Coins, I: Early Anglo-Saxon Gold and Anglo-Saxon and Continental Silver Coinage of the North Sea Area, c. 600–760, Sylloge of Coins of the British Isles 63 (London: British Museum, 2013), pl. 2, no. 22. 37 Tony Abramson, “The Roman Influence on Early Anglo-Saxon Coinage,” Yorkshire Numismatist 4 (2012): 73–104, at 87, fig. 12.

38 See Anna Gannon, The Iconography of Early Anglo-Saxon Coinage, Sixth to Eighth Centuries (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2003), 65–66 and fig. 2.59. 39 See Rory Naismith, British Museum Anglo-Saxon Coins, II: Southern English Coinage from Offa to Alfred, c. 760–880, Sylloge of Coins of the British Isles 67 (London: British Museum, 2016), no. 61; Abramson, “The Roman Influence,” 101, fig. 39; and Naismith, Money and Power in Anglo-Saxon England: The Southern English Kingdoms, 757–865 (New York: Cambridge University Press, 2012), in the subsection on “Portraits” titled “Offa, novus Constantinus?” (54–64; see especially 59, figs. 3.3 and 3.4). 40 Naismith, British Museum Anglo-Saxon Coins, II, 64.

41 The Old English Finding of the True Cross, ed. and trans. Mary-Catherine Bodden (Cambridge: Brewer, 1987), 55.

42 The Old English Finding of the True Cross, ed. Bodden, 30. According to Garipzanov, Graphic Signs of Authority, the Judas Kyriakos legend was “composed between 415 and the 440s, probably in Jerusalem” (89).

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in Eusebius’s account), the scattering and drowning of a number of the enemy in the river, and the triumphant emperor’s subsequent return home to Rome (“Æfter þam þe se mære kasere eft ham gewænde to his agenre byrig, into Rome” and “Gewat þa heriga helm ham eft þanon,” in the homily and Elene respectively)43 are similar to events in Lactantius’s account of the battle at the Milvian Bridge, but with one major difference: while retaining the same year for this decisive battle (the sixth year of Constantine’s imperial reign, i.e., 312), Cynewulf and the homilist, following their Latin source, present us not with a clash between opposing Roman forces at the Tiber, outside Rome, but instead set the scene at the Danube, against a great assembly of foreign invaders who, in Elene and in Cynewulf’s Latin source, “wished to conquer the empire of the Romans”: “Werodes breahtme / woldon Romwara rice geþringan, / hergum ahyðan” (Elene 39b–41a). In the other Old English homily on the Invention of the Holy Cross, attributed to Ælfric of Eynsham, who lived ca. 955–1010, an attempt to be more historically accurate is apparent in terms of the place and the players: Maxentius is Constantine’s opponent, and the occasion matches that of Lactantius, Eusebius, and the Panegyrist of 313—that is, the event at the Milvian Bridge on October 28, 312, but with notable differences. As in the other accounts, Ælfric’s Maxentius is an evil threat to Constantine and to the Empire: “Þa wann him ongean sum wælhreow heretoga, Maxentius gehaten, mid micclum ðrymme, wolde him benæman his lifes and his rices” (“Then a bloodthirsty general, named Maxentius, warred against him with a great host[;] he would take from him his life and his empire”).44 Upon awakening from his dream vision, Constantine marks a holy sign of the cross on his head and on his banner in honour to God, echoing the very same words used in the earlier homily, with only slight variations: “And he awoc ða bliðe for ðære gesihðe and for ðan behatenan sige, and mearcode him on heafde halig rode-tacn, and on his guðfanan [battle-standard, i.e., labarum], Gode to wurðmynte.”45 Then, in a neat twist to Lactantius’s account, where God’s right hand was featured at the battle, Ælfric focuses on the righteous use of Constantine’s own right hand as he acts here as an agent of God; laying a little golden cross upon his hand, the emperor prays for liberation of the city from the tyrant without having to stain that commanding hand with Roman blood: “He het eac smiðian of smætum golde ane lytle rode, ða he lædde on his swiðran [right hand], biddende georne þone Ælmihtigan Wealdend, þæt seo swiðre [right hand] ne wurde æfre gewemmed ðurh readum blode Romaniscre leode, ðam ðe he geuðe ælcere dugeðe, gif Maxentius ana him wolde abugan, ðe ða burh geheold mid hetelum geðance” (“He bade then be forged of beaten gold a little rood, which he laid on 43 The Old English Finding of the True Cross, ed. Bodden, ll. 42–43; Cynewulf, Elene, l. 148, in The Vercelli Book, ed. George Philip Krapp (New York: Columbia University Press, 1932), 70.

44 The Homilies of the Anglo-Saxon Church. The First Part, Containing the Sermones Catholici, or Homilies of Ælfric, ed. and trans. Benjamin Thorpe, vol. 2 (London: Aelfric Society, 1846), 302–7, at 304–5. See also Ælfric’s Catholic Homilies: The Second Series, ed. Malcolm Godden, Early English Text Society, Supplementary Series, 5 (London: Oxford University Press, 1979), 174–76, at 174. 45 The Homilies, ed. Thorpe, 304. Cf. Ælfric’s Catholic Homilies, ed. Godden, 174, ll. 15–17, and The Old English Finding of the True Cross, ed. Bodden, 63–65, ll. 28–31.



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his right hand, fervently praying the Almighty Ruler that his right hand might never be polluted with the red blood of the Roman people, to whom he would grant every good, if Maxentius only would submit to him, who held the city with hostile thought”).46 Ælfric’s description here of Constantine’s laying of the cross on his right hand while making a pledge, furthermore, accords in legend with Rufinus’s account of Constantine holding a cross of gold in his right hand and, in British coinage, with that other early depiction of a hand touching the cross on the Constantinian “oath-taking” shilling. The nature of the bridge and the action there also differ between Lactantius and Ælfric: According to Lactantius, the bridge is broken at Maxentius’s back, the sight of which causes the battle to become fierce, with the hand of God now above the battle line, terrifying the Maxentian army (“Pons a tergo ejus scinditur. Eo viso, pugna crudescit, et manus Dei supererat aciei. Maxentianus proterretur”); then Maxentius himself bolts toward the bridge, “which had been broken,” but, pushed by the multitude of fleeing ones, is thrown into the Tiber: “[I]pse in fugam versus properat ad pontem, qui interruptus erat, ac multitudine fugientium pressus, in Tiberim deturbatur.” 47 The use of present passive voice to describe the breaking of the bridge leads to uncertainty in interpretations as to when, why, how, and by whom the bridge was broken. Some have speculated that Maxentius had ordered it to be done as a trap for Constantine that backfired,48 or was it broken to discourage retreat to the city, or had it been broken at an earlier time for some other reason—as a defensive measure against a possible siege?49 Ælfric, however, leaves no uncertainty as to Maxentius’s motivation: his Maxentius uses cunning to construct a false bridge upon boats floating in the river, only to forget his own device of deception as he goes charging over the “bridge” and falls through to the bottom of the river, eliminating any need for bloodshed between the Roman forces, as Constantine had prayed: “Þa scipu toscuton, and he ðone grund gesohte mid horse mid ealle, and se here ætstod ahred fram frecednysse for his anes deaðe. Swa wearð gefylled þæs caseres ben, þæt his hand næs besmiten, þe ða rode heold, mid agotenum blode his agenre burhware” (“The ships parted asunder, and he sought the ground with horse and all, and the army stopt, saved from peril by the death of him alone. So was fulfilled the emperor’s prayer, that his hand, which had held the rood, was not sullied with the shed blood of his own citizens”).50 The panegyrist, closest to the event in time, states that the enemy forces who did not hold their position—the “impious ones”—were, in a terrified retreat, “hindered by the narrowness of the Milvian Bridge” (“angustiis Muluii pontis exclusi”) and “went headlong into the river” (“in fluuium abiere praecipites”); Maxentius himself is swallowed up by the Tiber as he tries in vain to escape up the steep opposite bank on horseback: “Cum impios Tiberis hausisset, ipsum etiam illum cum equo et armis insignibus frustra cona46 The Homilies, ed. Thorpe, 304–5. Cf. Ælfric’s Catholic Homilies, ed. Godden, 174, ll. 17–22. 47 Lactantius, Liber de Mortibus Persecutorum, chap. 44, in PL 7: col. 260. 48 See Lactantius, On the Deaths of the Persecutors, 191n8 (chap. 44).

49 In Praise of Later Roman Emperors, trans. and ed. Nixon and Rodgers, 319–20n103.

50 The Homilies, ed. Thorpe, 304–5. Cf. Ælfric’s Catholic Homilies, ed. Godden, 175, ll. 29–33.

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tum per abrupta ripae ulterioris euadere, idem Tiberis correptum gurgite deuorauit.”51 Eusebius, though, tells a story similar to that of Ælfric: about Maxentius’s use of guile in a cowardly construction of a pontoon bridge of deception. However, in keeping with Eusebius’s extended comparison to the drowning of the Egyptians in the Red Sea, his Maxentius sinks not alone, but with all of his men as well: Accordingly, just as once in the time of Moses and the devout Hebrew tribe “Pharaoh’s chariots and his force he cast into the sea, and picked rider-captains he overwhelmed in the Red Sea” (Exodus 15:4), in the very same way Maxentius and the armed men and guards about him “sank to the bottom like a stone” (Exodus 15:5), when, fleeing before the force which came from God with Constantine, he went to cross the river lying in his path. When he himself joined its banks with boats and bridged it perfectly well, he had built an engine of destruction for himself, intending thus to catch the friend of God. But the latter had his God present at his right hand, while Maxentius constructed in his cowardice the secret engines of his own destruction. Of him it could also be said that “he dug a hole and excavated it, and will fall into the pit he made. His labor will return on his head, and on his pate will his wickedness fall” (Psalm 7:16–17). Thus then by God’s will the mechanism in the link and the device concealed in it gave way at a time which was not intended, the crossing parted, and the boats sank at once to the bottom with all their men, the coward himself first of all, and then the infantry and guards about him, just as the divine oracles had previously proclaimed: “They sank like lead in much water” (Exodus 15:10).52

Thus, to justify the biblical comparison, Eusebius presents a more catastrophic climax to his story, while Ælfric presents a more compassionate portrait of Constantine, the liberator, placing the blame solely on the usurper Maxentius, whose death makes for a welcome solution to the problem. As in Lactantius’s account, a right hand of power settles it for Ælfric, but in a more desired, merciful way for Constantine and the inhabitants of the city alike. Ælfric’s interest in Constantine and the hand of righteousness seems also to have been shared by the designers of certain of the coins of his king, Æthelred II, who reigned (with a short interruption) from 978 until 1016. That Æthelred would choose to identify with Constantine is understandable, for a Constantinian element had apparently already appeared on certain coins of his immediate predecessor, his brother Edward the Martyr (975–978)—coins that, like those of Offa before him, “display features comparable to the Constantine eyes-to-heaven type,” as Abramson has observed.53 So, although the fourthcentury Romans had chosen to display the chi-rho as the sign of victory on their coins, the choice for Æthelred’s first distinctive coinage, after the initial small-cross design that he had inherited from his father and his brother, was that other image associated with Constantine’s victory and connection to God from beginning to end: the Manus Dei. On the reverse of Æthelred’s First and Second Hand types (ca. 979–991, but possibly ending earlier),54 the Manus Dei appears between the letters Α and ω in a manner 51 In Praise of Later Roman Emperors, trans. and ed. Nixon and Rodgers, Panegyric 12.17.1–2. 52 Eusebius, Life of Constantine, 1.38.2–4.

53 Abramson, “The Roman Influence,” 101; see fig. 40.

54 North, English Hammered Coinage, 158, nos. 766–68. Stewart Lyon has recently interpreted Æthelred’s Hand types to be “a single issue with small and specific but not universally adopted



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reminiscent of the reverse design on those coins of Magnentius, Decentius, and Constantius II, where a large chi-rho is similarly flanked, as previously stated. That the coins of Magnentius may indeed have served as models for Æthelred’s coins is attested in the choice of portrait for Æthelred’s Long Cross type (ca. 997–1003, but possibly begun earlier),55 the prototype for which, according to Marion Archibald, “was the bare-headed bust on bronze coins of the Roman usurper [Magnentius], 350–3.”56 As evidenced by the recent Bridgnorth hoard in Shropshire (buried ca. 355; discovered 2007), these large, impressive coins of all three Roman rulers were likely present in abundance in England and could well have served as models for the later English engravers of coin dies. Furthermore, the choice of the Hand of God rather than the Christogram between the alpha and omega on Æthelred’s coins may itself have been inspired by Constantine, who repeatedly evoked the concept of Manus Dei in letters, imperial decrees, and prayers. Commenting on Æthelred’s First Hand type, Archibald states, “A Hand of God type had been used earlier on one of the exceptional Mercian issues of Edward the Elder,57 but the design is here so different that it was probably independently inspired by the Hand of God motif in contemporary illuminated manuscripts”58—which, along with the coins certainly, could also have been inspired to some degree by Constantine’s widespread Manus Dei posthumous issue. Finally, in assessing the significance of Æthelred’s Helmet pennies (armoured bust to left, wearing radiate helmet, with shield at shoulder, ca. 1003–1009),59 history and legend—the traditions of the two Old English sermons—come neatly together. Numismatists have long assumed that the model for the obverse design was the Roman antoninianus, of which the distinguishing feature was the emperor’s radiate crown.60 Indeed, by the later part of the third century, portraits with a radiate helmet had become quite popular on antoniniani, examples of which are still available in abundance from the reign of Probus (276–282). This denomination continued to be produced until Diocletian’s modifications which did not involve a renovatio, and a duration that was not governed by a predetermined rule and is unlikely to have been as long as twelve years,” thus placing the Battle of Maldon (991) well within the period of the Crux issue. See The Lyon Collection of Anglo-Saxon Coins, Sylloge of Coins of the British Isles 68 (London: Oxford University Press for the British Academy, 2016), 89; and Robert L. Schichler’s review in Speculum 93, no. 3 (2018): 843–44.

55 Lyon has suggested that “a date significantly earlier than 991 for the introduction of Crux [North, nos. 770–72], followed by Long Cross [North, no. 774] in late 994 or early 995…provides the best match for the hoard and documentary evidence” (The Lyon Collection, 102).

56 Marion Archibald, “Anglo-Saxon Coinage, Alfred to the Conquest,” in The Golden Age of AngloSaxon Art, ed. Janet Backhouse, D. H. Turner, and Leslie Webster (London: British Museum, 1984), 170–91, at 178. 57 See North, English Hammered Coinage, 129, nos. 662–64. 58 Archibald, “Anglo-Saxon Coinage,” 177.

59 North, English Hammered Coinage, 159, no. 775.

60 Although the more general term radiate is coming into common use for Roman coins with radiate portraits, I have retained the more specific designation antoninianus for this denomination, as listed in most reference books, online sites, and catalogues of Roman coins.

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Reform in 294. Under the assumption that a late third-century antoninianus had to be the inspiration for Æthelred’s penny, in 1961 J. P. C. Kent went a step further and stated that the obverse of the penny was an “exact imitation” of “a pre-Reform double denarius [i.e., antoninianus] of the [Continental] Lyons mint, bearing the name of Maximian.”61 Kent’s assertion has largely gone unchallenged and has even become accepted as fact by subsequent scholars. However, the portrait of Maximian on the plate-coin illustrating Kent’s article is quite different from Æthelred’s portrait: a bearded emperor is depicted wearing not a radiate helmet but one with zigzag decorations, although examples with truer radiate helmets do exist.62 Furthermore, all of those third-century emperors (including the usurpers Carausius and Allectus in Britain) appear fully bearded (complete with moustache) on their antoniniani of this design, whereas the faces on Æthelred’s Helmet pennies have a more clean-shaven appearance consistent with the portraits on his other coin types as well as the radiate-helmeted portrait on certain post-Reform, early-fourthcentury nummi of Constantine that echo in design those antoniniani heretofore regarded as the inspiration for Æthelred’s Helmet penny.63 In fact, as Jas Elsner explains: Constantine’s earliest portrait type, as seen on coins of 306–7…follows the model of Tetrarchic portraiture. With square head, cropped hair, moustache and beard he looks every bit the mid-thirties commander he was when he assumed the throne. But rapidly…a new portrait type emerged which might be defined as mature but youthful, on the model of Augustus, clean-shaven and with a fine Trajanic coiffure.64

This later look, which graces the obverse of Constantine’s radiate-helmet coins, had a dual significance according to Elsner, being “both a visual break with Tetrarchic patterns of portraiture and at the same time a strong affirmation of age-old Roman visual traditions going back to the ideal emperorship implicit in the images of Augustus…and Trajan.”65 It also “allowed a familial type to be taken up and exploited by Constantine’s heirs as the visual signature of their succession.”66 Additionally, given the location and the occasion for the production of those nummi, a greater significance for Æthelred’s choice of portrait can be seen and appreciated, especially from a British perspective. For Constantine’s radiate-helmet coins were struck in London ca. 311–312 as part of the 61 J. P. C. Kent, “From Roman Britain to Saxon England,” in Anglo-Saxon Coins: Studies Presented to F. M. Stenton on the Occasion of His 80th Birthday, 17 May 1960, ed. R. H. M. Dolley (London: Methuen, 1961), 1–22, at 14. 62 Kent, “From Roman Britain,” pl. i, nos. 19 and 20.

63 I use here the newer, more accurate term nummus, which is becoming increasingly preferred by numismatists, rather than follis, the term found in RIC and elsewhere for the denomination. On a few of Æthelred’s Helmet pennies, as on some of the nummi struck for Constantine and his sons, a jawline in slightly higher relief could possibly suggest a light beard, but certainly no moustache is perceptible. Furthermore, the upper fringe of the king’s neck-guard should not be mistaken for whiskers. 64 Jas Elsner, “Perspectives in Art,” in The Cambridge Companion to the Age of Constantine, ed. Lenski, 255–77, at 261. 65 Elsner, “Perspectives in Art,” 261. 66 Elsner, “Perspectives in Art,” 262.



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large issue produced in preparation for his crucial campaign against Maxentius, who, as Ælfric states, “would take from [Constantine] his life and his empire.”67 This motivation is also echoed in the more legendary account of Cynewulf, whose foreign invaders “woldon Romwara rice geþringan” (would [intended to] conquer the empire of the Romans).68 In a strikingly similar situation at the start of the eleventh century, facing a strong Viking threat from without, Æthelred struck Helmet coins in Britain, as Constantine before him, in preparation for the conflict to come.69

Figure 1.1: Bronze Nummus of Constantine I struck at London ca. 311–312; and Silver Penny of Æthelred II struck at Thetford ca. 1003–1009. Photograph by Robert Schichler.

67 The Homilies, ed. Thorpe, 305. 68 Elene 40.

69 For listed examples of Constantine’s nummi with left-facing radiate-helmeted portraits, see Sutherland, The Roman Imperial Coinage, VI, Londinium, nos. 145, 168, 198, and 204, as well as the following specimens more recently listed and pictured in Cloke and Toone, The London Mint: 7.01.018, 7.01.024 (RIC 145 cor.), 7.03.025 (RIC 168), 7.03.026, 7.03.041, 7.03.042, 7.03.052, 7.04.015, 7.04.027 (RIC 204), 7.04.034, 7.07.029, 7.08.005, 7.10.009, 7.10.019, 7.11.008, and 7.11.009.

Chapter 2

ECHO AND ICON: LIFE IN STONE AT BEWCASTLE, CUMBRIA CATHERINE E. KARKOV1 many rivers to cross many lichens to sing

Drew Milne, “News from Lichen Times”

STONE SPEAKS WITH many voices. It can be made to make music, like the stone xylophone made for Evelyn Glennie as part of the Ruskin Rocks project, which was established to explore the musical qualities of the stones of the Cumbrian Lake District.2 The project built on a tradition of making musical instruments from the local stone that went back to the nineteenth century, although outside of England musical stones are some of the earliest instruments ever created. A different type of sound can be created by the wind or breath blowing against or around stone. The Blowing Stone near Wantage (fig. 2.1) is the weathered remains of a standing stone and makes a noise if you blow into the correct hole.3 It could conceivably be understood as both a work of sculpture and a musical instrument. According to local legend King Alfred blew through it to summon his forces against the Danes, and according to a description in Tom Brown’s Schooldays, its moaning sound can be heard for a distance of seven miles (eleven kilometres).4 Obviously, neither of these are examples of early medieval stone sculpture, but all stone makes sound when struck by human hands or breath or simply by the wind. Such interactions create vibrations that reach our ears as a series of waves, which, if we could see them, have patterns that have been made visible in the many images that have been taken of musical notes striking water. It is impossible to illustrate these patterns adequately in two-dimensional form but there are images and videos available on the internet, and anyone who has listened to music or singing inside a stone church has 1 I met Paul Szarmach at the Kalamazoo Medieval Congress when I was a first-year PhD student and he was a good friend and mentor from that day on. We worked together on many projects, and he always encouraged me to think in new ways across the fields of art history and medieval literature. One has only to look at the work that he put into and the wonderful research that came out of projects such as Sources of Anglo-Saxon Literary Culture to understand the depth and strength of his support for interdisciplinary studies and for younger scholars. This chapter has its origins in a conversation we had many years ago about value and different disciplinary perceptions of early medieval sculpture. 2 “Ruskin Rocks,” University of Leeds, https://ruskinrocks.leeds.ac.uk.

3 You can listen to the sound that it makes at Simon Chadwick, “The Blowing Stone at Kingston Lisle,” https://youtu.be/MNbNsfz85DM. 4 Thomas Hughes, Tom Browns School Days (London: MacMillan, 1869), 14.

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Figure 2.1: The Blowing Stone. Photograph by Rob Bradford, CC BY-SA 2.0.

experienced some of the effects of musical notes hitting stone.5 Even if we may not be able to hear them with the naked ear alone, those effects are reproduced in miniature when notes hit the stone surfaces of the many early medieval crosses that are now parts of church interiors, like the eighth-century cross at Ruthwell, Dumfriesshire (fig. 2.2) or the tenth-century cross in Leeds Minster. On the other hand, standing on the hill at Bewcastle on a windy day, if you listen closely, you can hear the presence of the stone of the eighth-century Bewcastle cross (fig. 2.3) in the changing tones created as wind strikes and moves around it. For the rock itself to ring with a musical sound, however, its grains must be grown tightly together so that energy is not lost as vibrations pass from grain to grain. The Bewcastle Cross, along with the Ruthwell and the Leeds crosses, is carved from sandstone and sandstone does not have tight grains, and sandstone that is badly weathered and full of holes will never ring, although if the holes are deep enough it will echo.6 The Bewcastle Cross will never ring like the stone xylophone or sound like the Blowing Stone but it still has voice, several in fact, and it is both surrounded by and makes a variety of sounds. Isidore of Seville wrote of stone that it had the ability to capture and imitate the sound of the human voice. This type of stone he called icon, although his source, Pliny, 5 Dan Koehler, “The Beauty of Twelve Piano Notes Made Visible on CymaScope,” https://www. youtube.com/watch?v=9al397N6Tzs&t=13s.

6 “Why do Rocks Ring?” “Ruskin Rocks,” University of Leeds, https://ruskinrocks.leeds.ac.uk/whydo-rocks-ring/.



Echo and Icon

Figure 2.2: The Ruthwell Cross, Dumfries. Photograph by Catherine E. Karkov.

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Figure 2.3: The Bewcastle Cross, Cumberland, west side. Photograph by Catherine E. Karkov.



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called it echo. More specifically, he wrote, “It is icon in Greek and ‘image’ (imago) in Latin, because an image of someone else’s speech is produced in response to one’s voice.”7 Aaron Wilson has documented the way in which the Neolithic stone circle at Avebury echoes the sounds made within it, and Nicholas Chare has described the way the King’s Men (part of the Neolithic Rollright Stones near Long Compton, Oxfordshire) in its original state, a solid ring of standing stones, would have both echoed and amplified such sounds.8 Monuments such as the Bewcastle or Ruthwell crosses are stones on or in which one can see as well as hear a somewhat different sense of icon, echo, and image at work. Icon as imago, especially as religious image imported from Rome, and echo as the traces of the voices that remain in the inscriptions on the crosses, are two of their most notable features. Reading the inscriptions provides us with the monuments’ clearest examples of voice, and reading itself is an aural as well as an oral phenomenon. You hear as you read, whether it is your own voice in your head as it narrates the words in front of you or the voices of those that are doing the speaking in the text as you read, or the phantom sounds about which Jonathan Hsy writes in his essay on reading Marjorie Kempe.9 At Ruthwell the runic poem carved into the borders surrounding the vine-scroll on its two narrow faces is written in the first-person voice of the True Cross. It watches, it experiences, and it speaks. It begins: [+ond]geredæ hinæ god almeittig·þa hewalde on galgu gistiga modig f[ore] [allæ] men [b]ug…[ahof] ic riicnæ kyniŋc· heafunæs hlafard hælda ic ni dorstæ [b]ismærædu uŋket men ba æt[g]ad[re i]c [wæs] miþ blodi bist[e]mi[d] bi[got][en of]…10

(Almighty God stripped himself when he wished to mount the gallows, brave in the sight of all men. I dared not bow. I [raised aloft] a powerful king. The Lord of heaven I dared not tilt. Men insulted the pair of us together. I was drenched with blood [begotten from that man’s side].)

The inscribed words echo the voice of the speaking cross, the True Cross, but they also echo the voices of all those men and women who have read the poem whether silently or out loud over the centuries. Moreover, in reading these words now with our knowledge of the larger history into which the cross fits we can also hear the echo of the speaking cross in the Vercelli Book poem The Dream of the Rood,11 and in the inscription through 7 Isidore of Seville, The Etymologies of Isidore of Seville, ed. Stephen A. Barney, et al. (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2006), 319.

8 Aaron Wilson, “Composing Avebury,” World Archaeology 33, no. 2 (2001): 296–314, at 308; Nicholas Chare, “Writing Perceptions: The Matter of Words and the Rollright Stones,” Art History 34, no. 2 (2011): 244–67, at 257. 9 “Phantom Sounds,” in How We Read: Tales, Fury, Nothing, Sound, ed. Kaitlin Heller and Suzanne Conklin Akbari ([n.pl.]: punctum, 2019), 97–106.

10 Square brackets indicate letters that have been supplied or restored based on the text of The Dream of the Rood (see following note). 11 Lines 42–44 of The Dream of the Rood read: “Bifode ic þa me se beorn ymbclypte. Ne dorste ic hwæðre bugan to eorðan, / feallan to foldan sceatum, ac ic sceolde fæste standan. / Rod wæs ic aræred; ahof ic ricne cyning.” (I trembled when that man embraced me; yet I dared not bow to the earth / fall to the earth’s surface, but I had to stand fast. / Rood was I raised up; I lifted up a mighty

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which the Brussels Reliquary cross speaks, both of which literally echo words from the Ruthwell poem.12 Even though their inscriptions and voices are very different, the repetition of some icons and images at Ruthwell and Bewcastle means that the crosses echo each other so that once one has seen or read about both it can be difficult to view or imagine the one without the other. The east face of the Bewcastle Cross is carved with a continuous inhabited vine-scroll, while the Ruthwell Cross has continuous inhabited vine-scrolls on both its original north and south sides, the icons of Christ recognized by beasts in the desert and of John the Baptist holding the agnus dei appear on the west face of both crosses, and both crosses ask the viewer to read and/or speak, the one a poem and the other a prayer.13 Together image and voice on these two monuments present us with complex theological programmes narrated through the figural icons and performative texts that demand to be understood through a process of rumination in which we attempt to chew over, contemplate, and digest their deeper meanings. This is not something that happens only in the moment, it is also a process that works across time and through multiple voices and monuments. It is impossible to see or speak the poem at Ruthwell, for example, without thinking back in time to the wooden cross of the crucifixion and/or forward to the echoes of the Ruthwell poem in later texts. At Bewcastle the inscriptions are commemorative and heavily damaged, but it is still clear that they ask us to meditate on human loss and hoped-for salvation, to pray, and to contemplate the nature of this cross as a victory beacon rather than as a participant in the crucifixion. [+] þis sigb[e]c[n] *[.]setton hwætre[d . .]þgær a[.]w[.]wo[.] *[æ]ft[.[ lcfri *m[.]n[g]u[.]ŋ[.] gebid[.] [..]so[.]o… (This victory beacon Hwætred…thgar and…set up in memory (after) .lcfri…pray.)

The main inscription on the west face tells us that two or more men erected the cross, this victory beacon, in memory of a third whose name is generally reconstructed as Alcfrith, and who is most often assumed to be the falconer carved in the panel beneath the inscription. The inscription asks us for our prayers, both echoing the voices of its patrons and also evoking the sounds of the prayers originally spoken in front of it. The men and women commemorated by the names inscribed in the borders between some of the cross’s panels are also echoes of voices long dead, as well as of the voices that spoke their names in their commemorative prayers, albeit traces that are rapidly disappearing. The name Cyneburh, a woman’s name and the only one of these liminal names king.) George Philip Krapp, ed., The Vercelli Book, ASPR vol. 2 (New York: Columbia University Press, 1932), 62.

12 The edge of the cross is inscribed: “+ROD IS MIN NAMA GEO IC RICNE CẎ NING BÆR BẎ FIGẎ NDE BLODE BESTEMED.” (Cross is my name: once I bore the mighty King, trembling and drenched with blood.)

13 These images are carved on the original west face of the Ruthwell Cross. The cross was pulled down and heavily damaged during the Reformation, then restored and moved to a pit inside the church at Ruthwell in the nineteenth century.



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still legible, is inscribed in the border between two of the panels on the north side of the cross. But what did it mean to have just one’s name read, to be remembered through a name alone, a word, without either an iconic portrait or the echoing trace of a voice that was clearly asking for a prayer for you? These single names might be read as calm, silent, less aggressively present than Alcfrith (if that is who the falconer is meant to represent), although they might also be read as cold and depersonalized—second-class citizens of the monument’s admittedly elite memorial community. Whatever the case, with commemorative monuments such as the Bewcastle Cross, we so often say, as I have just done, that stone preserves voice and memory, or identity in the form of a name, but it is also possible, at least in some cases, to perceive stone as, or as also, entrapping or fossilizing— sound turned to stone and yet simultaneously emerging out of it like a fossil, a shell or a trace that is all that remains of a living being. Phantom voices. As phantom fossil voices the inscriptions also speak and echo something of the larger processes that brought the stone and the cross into being, as well as the history of the site on which it now stands. The Bewcastle Cross is carved from Carboniferous medium-grained yellow sandstone. The grains consist predominantly of quartz and feldspar with lesser amounts of muscovite mica and are held in a matrix of clay minerals. Cementation by silica makes the stone durable and thus well suited to both architectural and sculptural use.14 The stone has its origins in water, in the shallow sea (or calm marine lagoon) that once covered the area. It was fed by sediments from the northeast (the area that is now the North Sea), gradually transforming into earth and stone through a long cyclical process of sand and marine sedimentation. The grains that compose the stone were battered and weathered down to their “sand” size (by definition 0.06–2 millimetres in diameter) and deposited in layers of sedimentation, covering and incorporating marine organisms into their substance as the layers built up. It is made of sand and debris and lifeforms pulverized, layered, and hardened over time. The Bewcastle Cross contained, entombed, and took its own life from living creatures as well as from minerals. It was thus a memorial long before it was carved into a memorial monument, and its very structure, if we think deeply enough, is evoked in the echoes of the sound of water moving back and forth over earth and then stone, the world’s “first language, the sound of water flowing over rock.”15 In the introduction to their edited volume Allegory of the Cave Painting, Mihnea Mircan and Vincent van Gerven Oei write: Take a Greek cave and attempt to respond, symmetrically, to all the times into which the remnants it holds pulverize time. We are listening to the voice of debris, buried under different densities of dust, persuading ourselves that, in time, objects will divulge their truth, on condition that we restore their purity, that we clean them of parasites and false assumptions. When marine fossils reveal themselves at the top of mountains, earthquakes are felt in bodies and then in tectonic plates, when radioactive stones imprint their non-mimetic likeness on photosensitive paper and two screens stare at each other and reflect a progressively distorted image of the same stone, that is also part of their

14 Richard N. Bailey and Rosemary Cramp, Corpus of Anglo-Saxon Stone Sculpture, vol. 2, Cumberland, Westmorland and Lancashire North-of-the Sands (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1988), 7.

15 Robin Wall Kimmerer, Gathering Moss: A Natural History of Mosses (London: Penguin, 2021), 138.

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constitution, the mineralogical sends its petrifying tentacles closer to what we hold in the confines of our bodies.16

There is a lot in that paragraph: remnants, time, and the voice of debris, the impossible truth of an object cleansed of parasites and false assumptions, the distorted image, the petrifying tentacles of the mineralogical. Allegory of the Cave Painting is dedicated to Australia’s prehistoric Gwion Gwion (or Bradshaw) cave paintings located in the Kimberley region of Western Australia, but the voice of dust and debris, the pulverizing of time, the parasitical, and the way that stone reaches out to us as it exposes its substances, workings and history are things the stone of the cave shares with the early medieval stone sculptures on which I focus here—as well, of course, as with many other types of stone monument. Let me begin with setting, just as the cave and its environs form the larger setting for the paintings, the land and landscape with their historical debris of human occupation and construction are the larger setting for the Bewcastle Cross, part of what produced it—projected it out as a tentacle into human space—and part of its meaning in any historical analysis. The Bewcastle cross spreads its petrifying tentacles out, both becoming a part of this particular landscape and of the communities that have inhabited this particular part of the land and holding them together. In doing so it speaks to us both as stone and as worked stone.17 Erected on the terrace in front of what would in the eighth century have been the remains of the bathhouse of a Roman fort and worked in a classicizing style based on that of the Romans, it speaks to us about their presence, both as colonizers of this land and as founders of the Roman Church and its Christian empire. The stone may have been reused from one of the fort’s buildings or monuments, or it may have been quarried but not used by the Romans, or it may have been dug by the Northumbrians who erected it from one of the quarries established by the Romans. The Roman fort with its stone buildings originally covered an area of about six acres and underwent four primary structural phases during the reigns of the emperors Hadrian, Severus, Diocletian, and Constantine. Its buildings are now long gone, but it is possible to identify their dismembered remains, still visible, sticking out of the earth of the fort’s ramparts, down which they have rolled over the centuries. The sound of collapse and decay. The fort was abandoned early in the reign of Constantine, but some of its buildings were still standing at the time the cross was erected—in fact some portion of them survived into at least the 16 Allegory of the Cave Painting, ed. Mihnea Mircan and Vincent W. J. van Gerven Oei (Milan: Mousse, 2015), 8–9.

17 The power of stone to speak of land and community was underscored during the writing of the conference paper on which this article is based by a report on the increase in the theft of Yorkshire paving stone from both rural and urban areas of the county. A publicity campaign had been launched by West Yorkshire police “urging people to ‘hang on to our Yorkshire.’” (Jamie Doward, “Stone Thieves are ‘Systematically Dismantling’ Yorkshire’s Heritage, Warn Police,” The Guardian June 27, 2015, https://www.theguardian.com/uk-news/2015/jun/27/yorkshire-stone-thieves-regionheritage). As I write this article, Leeds City Council are removing the Yorkshire paving stones in the sidewalk outside and cementing them back in place. The hammering, drilling, and sawing is louder and more mechanical than the sounds that would have accompanied the quarrying and carving of the Bewcastle Cross, but are reminders nevertheless of what noisy processes those would have been.



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fourteenth century when they were used as a source for the 1361–1371 rebuilding of the Norman Castle, the original of which was also no doubt built, or at least partially built, of Roman stone.18 It is impossible to say exactly how many of the fort’s buildings were still standing, or to what height at the time cross was erected, but whatever remained may well have caused prayers said in front of the cross to echo in a way similar to the echoes created within Neolithic stone circles. There was almost certainly an early medieval church at Bewcastle in the eighth century, although we know nothing of its structure. It is most likely that it would have been built of wood, but it is certainly possible that it also incorporated or was even built entirely of stone from the Roman fort. Many early medieval English churches both in Kent and in the Tyne Valley were constructed from reused Roman stone, in part as a means of aligning the power of the new early medieval English Church and kingdoms with that of the Roman imperial past and the Romanness of this land, as well as aligning it with the power of the Roman Church, bound up for the Northumbrians and later the English as a whole with the reign of Constantine—as indeed was the idea of the cross as a victory beacon.19 The ruins of the fort, and perhaps also the ruins of any earlier stone church at Bewcastle were used as a source of stone for the church built on the site in the late thirteenth century, the earliest documented church at Bewcastle.20 Much of the Roman material was reused again in the present church built in 1792, and stones from the fort have been identified in a number of other buildings in and around Bewcastle. Stone memorializes, and fossilizes, and keeps the Romans present all around Bewcastle. The language of style and iconography, the figural panels based on the composition of icons imported from the Mediterranean world, the vinescroll, and the classicizing style of the Bewcastle Cross speak equally loudly of Christian Rome and Northumbrian alliance to it. This is the historical dust through which we now understand the cross, and we know from the sundial carved into the south side of the cross not only that time mattered at Bewcastle in the eighth century, but that the passing of time mapped by the movement of sun and earth mattered. That both history and stone monuments and places were understood as layered through each other as suggested by the Bewcastle Cross, its location in relation to the Roman fort and its sundial, is documented more explicitly in poems such as The Ruin, in which the past is “not singular and homogenous, but formed of diverse overlapping moments,” albeit a past with a “hierarchy of presence.”21 The poet of The Ruin begins with the stone: Wrætlic is þes wealstan,  wyrde gebræconn; burgstede burston,  brosnað enta geweorc.

18 D. J. A. Taylor and J. A. Biggens, “A Geophysical Survey of the Roman Fort at Bewcastle, Cumbria,” Transactions of the Cumberland and Westmorland Antiquarian and Archaeological Association, 3, no. 12 (2012): 81–92, at 81.

19 Sarah Semple, Perceptions of the Prehistoric in Anglo-Saxon England: Religion, Ritual, and Rulership in the Landscape (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2013), 133–34. 20 J. B. W. Day, Geology of the Country Around Bewcastle (London: HMSO, 1970), 3.

21 Joshua Davies, Visions and Ruins: Cultural Memory and the Untimely Middle Ages (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 2018), 28.

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Hrofas sind gehrorene,  hreorge torras, hrungeat berofen,  hrim on lime, scearde scurbeorge  scorene, gedrorene, ældo undereotone.22

(Wondrous is the wall-stone, events broke it, the battlement burst; the work of giants decays. Roofs are fallen, towers wrecked, doorways destroyed, frost on lime, roofs are gaping stripped, perished eaten away by age.)

The image of the ruined city is akin to what the Northumbrians are likely to have seen in the ruins of the Roman fort at Bewcastle. The poet then goes on to suggest both that the stone itself bears witness to the events of history, and to envisage the human life and events that took place within that stone structure and which still echo through it: Oft þæs wag gebad ræghar ond readfah  rice æfter oþrum, ofstonden under stormum;  steap geap gedreas… Crungon walo wide,  cwoman woldagas, swylt eall for nom  secgrofra wera; wurdon hyra wigsteal  westen staþolas, brosnade burgsteall.  Betend crungon hergas to hrusan.  Forþon þas hofu dreorgiað, ond þæs teaforgeapa  tigelum sceadeð hrostbeages hrof.  Hryre wong gecrong gebrocen to beorgum,  þær iu beorn monig glædmod ond goldbeorht  glioma gefrætwed, wlonc ond wingal  wighyrstum scan; seah on sinc, on sylfor,  on searogimmas, on ead, on æht,  on eorcanstan, on þas beorhtan burg  bradan rices.23

(Often this wall, covered with lichen and red-stained, endured one kingdom after another, withstood the storm, the steep arch has now fallen…The slain perished widely, pestilence came and death took away all the brave warriors. Their bulwarks (or altars) became wasteland, the city crumbled. Its restorers perished, armies in the earth. So these courts are empty and the red arches on the wooden roof shed their tiles. Decay has brought it to the ground, broken into rubble, where once many a warrior glad-minded and gold-bright, gleaming in splendour, proud and full of wine shone in armour, looked on treasure, on silver, on precious stone.)

The armies are dead and silent in the earth yet still present as phantoms in the ruins through the language of bursting, breaking, and falling. The past is overlapping with the present, the city is crumbling and will become earth, the present in the process of becoming the past is still visible and audible in the presence of frost on stone and walls covered with lichen. Things are still happening here, the city is full of noise, and lifeforms still inhabit the city, listening to it falling to ruin. There were in the past the sound 22 The Exeter Book, ed. George Philip Krapp and Elliott van Kirk Dobbie, ASPR 3 (New York: Columbia University Press, 1936), 227, lines 1–6. 23 The Exeter Book, ed. Krapp and Dobbie, 228, lines 9b–11, 25–37.



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of walls and roofs bursting, breaking and falling (as did the armies), but still present are the repeating sounds of storms and tiles falling, and rock crumbling to earth and the lichen are present, both listening to it all and adding to the crumbling. In her fantastical ecostory, “‘The Author of Acacia Seeds’ and other Extracts from the Journal of the Association of Therolinguistics,” Ursula Le Guin imagined the not yet existence of: the first geolinguist, who, ignoring the delicate, transient lyrics of the lichen, will read beneath it The still less communicative, still more passive, wholly atemporal, cold, volcanic, poetry of the rocks; each one a word spoken, how long ago, by the earth itself, in the immense solitude, the immenser community, of space.24

But the lichen are already listening to, reading, and helping to create that poetry. Lichens are alive and do make noise, although their noises are beyond the capacity of the human ear to hear, let alone ignore. In the eighth century, as today, the Bewcastle Cross would have stood in a landscape full of sounds that were echoed in and that would have echoed around the monument, amplified perhaps by the ruins of the Roman fort. There would have been birdsong as well as the sounds made by other animals moving in and through the trees and grass that surround the site, and these are echoed in the images of the birds and beasts that crawl through and chew at the vines and fruits of the inhabited vine-scroll on the east side of the cross (fig. 2.4). Lichens are present on parts of the vine-scroll, literally turning portions of the stone plants into living plants and colouring them with greens and greys. The tendrils of the scroll unfurl as they rise upwards towards the sun, suggesting something of the quiet noises plants make as they open up and outward in the spring— plants quite a bit more audible than lichens. The wind would have rustled through the plants and the leaves and branches of the trees and would have made noise as it wrapped itself around the cross. Weather can change both the sound and environment around the cross dramatically. The sound created by wind hitting and moving around the cross is especially prominent if Bewcastle is visited on a stormy autumn day, while snow softly falling around the cross in winter can create a quiet that muffles other sounds but that amplifies the viewer’s sense of solitude and encourages meditation on the dead and the prayers that have been said for them. On the other hand, rain falls more noisily on, flows over, and drips from the cross, the return of the world’s “first language, the sound of water flowing over rock.”25 Water flowing over the cross both takes us back to its origins in water, the rock’s creation through millennia of flooding and sedimentation, and is a reminder of its eventual destruction as the rain slowly eats away at the stone. That process of destruction creates sound though not the bursting and breaking of The Ruin and much too low and slow for us to hear. Weather also changes the colour of the stone. In sunlight it appears a light brown colour, snow or frost on a sunny day can 24 Ursula Le Guin, “‘The Author of Acacia Seeds’ and other Extracts from the Journal of the Association of Therolinguistics,” in Buffalo Gals and Other Animal Presences (New York: New American Library, 1988), 167–78, at 175; quoted in Donna Haraway, Staying with the Trouble: Making Kin in the Chthulucene (Durham: Duke University Press, 2016), 125. 25 Kimmerer, Gathering Moss, 138.

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Figure 2.4: The Bewcastle Cross, east side. Photograph by Heidi Stoner. Used with permission.



Echo and Icon

29

make individual grains in the sandstone sparkle, while rainwater turns the stone a very dark brown. Lichens and mosses enliven the cross with their living colour, although they are not generally considered in that light. The Australian Gwion Gwion paintings are home to a symbiotic colony of canobacteria and black fungus that feed on their pigments and have taken on the hues of those pigments. The paintings are quite literally alive and moving as the pigmented bacteria continue to paint and repaint the images that have become their homes and to carve them deeper into the quartz walls of the cave in the process. The colony works simultaneously as painters and sculptors. The Bewcastle Cross too was originally painted. Its environmental conditions are very different from those of the Gwion Gwion paintings and its pigments and any bacteria inhabiting them are long gone and would also have been very different from those of the cave. But rock surfaces, as a number of contributors to Allegory of the Cave Painting point out, are some of the oldest habitats on earth and rock surface colonization is a starting point in the development of many terrestrial ecosystems. Sculptures such as the Bewcastle Cross, which is still outdoors, remain home to living things and creative processes. The cross’s surfaces, especially those of the base, have been colonized by lichens and bryophytes, the family to which mosses belong (fig. 2.5). Like the Gwion Gwion paintings, the cross is now a home to and a source of food for the vegetal communities that live on it, both simultaneously enlivening its surface decoration and also slowly carving into and helping to erode it. Lichens are part algae and part fungus living symbiotically (like cyanobacteria and black fungus) as an interspecies community that inhabits the surface of the stone just as the names and figural images carved into and out of the stone of the cross form a community within its religious function and meaning—the faithful inhabiting the rock on and of which the Christian church is built. Lichens extract most of their nutrients from the air and are in fact good indicators of air quality and levels of pollution, as they prefer cleaner air conditions, but some of their nutrients also come from within the stone on which they live, and their filaments extend down into the spaces between the sandstone grains like miniature tentacles, pushing the grains further apart.26 Lichens also absorb water from their environment, the water is captured by the outer fungal layer and held against the stone by the algae protected beneath the fungi. This means that water is trapped against the stone surface causing wear and also frost damage when the trapped water freezes, especially when it repeatedly freezes and thaws, as is often the case in the hills in which the Bewcastle Cross stands. Mosses, on the other hand, cannot grow on raw rock; “the surface must first be weathered by wind and water, and then etched by acids produced by a lichen crust.”27 The moss on the base of the Bewcastle Cross needs the lichen to survive. Both add colour to the cross, painting portions of its panels in light and dark greens, greys, ochres, browns, and deep rusty reds. Like the wall in The Ruin, the base of the cross is covered in lichen, some of it red stained. The lichens also feel a bit like tree bark, and 26 See further: “The British Lichen Society,” https://www.britishlichensociety.org.uk/learning/ about-lichens. 27 Kimmerer, Gathering Moss, 132.

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Figure 2.5: Detail of the Bewcastle Cross with lichen. Photograph by Heidi Stoner. Used with permission.



Echo and Icon

31

the mosses like a soft forest floor and they add to the sense that the cross is a tree rising from the earth, which was part of the original message of the inhabited vine-scroll on the east face, although as they grow the lichens are also signs that the cross-cum-tree will eventually fall to the ground. According to information from the Cumbria Lichens and Bryophytes Group website, 111 types of lichen have been documented in the churchyard and eighty-one species of bryophytes in the larger area surrounding Bewcastle, though of course not all of these are present on the surface of the cross.28 Lichens may not communicate in any language that we can understand but they do make noise, Le Guin’s “delicate transient lyrics,” and were we to insert a microphone into the cross we would be able to hear along with them the sound of the stone as it is weakened and its grains pushed apart by the tiny filaments that the lichens push into it. We would hear its creaks and groans as it is battered by wind and rain, fissured by ice, and its movement as it continues to tilt closer and closer back down to the earth from which it was born. This is now the voice of the Bewcastle Cross, but to hear that voice would require drilling into and inserting a high-powered microphone into the stone. Nevertheless, it is a voice every bit as central to the cross’s being as the voices we read 28 Personal communication. Chris Cant, Cumbria Lichen and Bryophytes Group: Acarospora fuscata| Acrocordia conoidea| Amandinea punctata| Aspicilia caesiocinerea| Aspicilia calcarea| Aspicilia cinerea s. lat.| Aspicilia contorta subsp. contorta| Bacidia rubella| Belonia nidarosiensis| Bilimbia sabuletorum| Buellia aethalea| Buellia disciformis| Caloplaca aurantia| Caloplaca cirrochroa| Caloplaca citrina s. lat.| Caloplaca crenularia| Caloplaca decipiens| Caloplaca flavescens| Caloplaca holocarpa s. lat.| Caloplaca saxicola| Candelariella aurella f. aurella| Candelariella medians f. medians| Candelariella vitellina f. vitellina| Catillaria chalybeia var. chalybeia| Clauzadea monticola| Cliostomum griffithii| Diploicia canescens| Diploschistes muscorum| Diploschistes scruposus| Diplotomma alboatrum| Evernia prunastri| Flavoparmelia caperata| Fuscidea cyathoides var. cyathoides| Gyalecta jenensis var. jenensis| Haematomma ochroleucum var. ochroleucum| Haematomma ochroleucum var. porphyrium| Hypocenomyce scalaris| Hypogymnia physodes| Hypogymnia tubulosa| Lecania erysibe s. lat.| Lecania turicensis| Lecanora albescens| Lecanora campestris subsp. campestris| Lecanora chlarotera| Lecanora confusa| Lecanora dispersa| Lecanora intricata| Lecanora muralis sensu auct.| Lecanora orosthea| Lecanora polytropa| Lecanora rupicola var. rupicola| Lecanora soralifera| Lecanora sulphurea| Lecanora varia| Lecidea fuscoatra s. lat.| Lecidella elaeochroma f. elaeochroma| Lecidella scabra| Lecidella stigmatea| Lepraria incana s. lat.| Melanelixia fuliginosa| Melanelixia glabratula| Melanohalea exasperata| Melanohalea exasperatula| Myriospora smaragdula| Ochrolechia androgyna| Ochrolechia parella| Opegrapha calcarea| Opegrapha vulgata| Parmelia saxatilis s. lat.| Parmelia sulcata| Peltigera rufescens| Pertusaria albescens var. corallina| Pertusaria amara f. amara| Pertusaria corallina| Pertusaria pertusa| Phaeophyscia orbicularis| Phlyctis argena| Physcia adscendens| Physcia caesia| Physcia tenella| Placynthiella icmalea| Platismatia glauca| Porpidia cinereoatra| Porpidia macrocarpa f. macrocarpa| Porpidia tuberculosa| Protoblastenia rupestris| Protoparmelia badia| Pseudevernia furfuracea var. ceratea| Psilolechia lucida| Ramalina farinacea| Ramalina subfarinacea| Rhizocarpon geographicum| Rhizocarpon reductum| Rinodina oleae| Rinodina teichophila| Schaereria fuscocinerea var. fuscocinerea| Scoliciosporum umbrinum| Tephromela atra var. atra| Trapelia glebulosa s. lat.| Trapeliopsis granulosa| Tremolecia atrata| Tuckermannopsis chlorophylla| Usnea subfloridana| Verrucaria nigrescens| Verrucaria nigrescens f. nigrescens| Verrucaria viridula| Xanthoparmelia conspersa| Xanthoria calcicola| Xanthoria candelaria s. lat.| Xanthoria parietina| Xanthoria polycarpa. For maps of the area see: “The Cumbria Lichen and Bryophytes,” https://cumbrialichensbryophytes.org.uk.

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into or out of its inscriptions and images, even if it is unlikely to be one that we will ever hear. We may see the lichens as parasites, something we would cleanse from its surface so that we could see its true form if only that cleansing would not cause more damage than does leaving the lichens in place. But to read the style and iconography of the cross, to ruminate on its meaning, is to chew over, to take apart and consume albeit metaphorically, just as the lichens take apart and consume literally, creating further dust and debris through which future generations will listen for the voice of the monument, just as the poet of The Ruin listened to the crumbling mortar of his city. Lichens are also a guide to time, growing at a slow and regular rate so they make it theoretically possible to date a monument by mapping their growth. The oldest extant lichens on the Rollright stones have been dated as far back as 1195—medieval life that is still with us—but with regular new growth.29 The lichens at Bewcastle are highly unlikely to be anywhere near that age as the casts that were made of the cross in the 1890s would have heavily damaged if not destroyed them.30 But lichens are also a materialization of time, “a time that moves ever outward in space, that spreads and covers materials such as stone,” reminding us that even as it is being eroded the Bewcastle Cross is a work in progress.31 In this study I have focused on the Bewcastle Cross both because it is one of the first sculptures I ever discussed with Paul Szarmach and because it is the monument in which I got one of the participants in the Ruskin Rocks project interested many years ago. We were considering doing a project on the sound of stone itself, a project which, of course, we had to abandon before it had even begun when he told me that recording the sound would entail drilling into the monument—and he remained completely unconvinced that that would be a bad idea. But the same sorts of sounds, the sounds of time and debris that have accumulated and echo around monuments and through which they continue to speak, and especially the layers of history and activity that the lichens can reveal, are a part of many of the early medieval stone sculptures we study. If we perceive lichens like those at Bewcastle less as parasites that obstruct our own vision, we might value them more for what they have to tell us about history and environment, and the understanding of stone and its substance that their burrowing tentacles encourage us to contemplate and their delicate lyrics speak.

29 Chare, “Writing Perceptions,” 246.

30 I thank Derek Craig for reminding me of this fact.

31 Khadija von Zinnenburg Caroll, “Living Paint, Even after the Death of the Colony,” in Allegory of the Cave Painting, ed. Mircan and Van Gerven Oei (Milan: Mousse, 2015), 165–79, at 170.

Chapter 3

JEROME OF STRIDO AT CHELLES: THE LEGACY OF QUEDLINBURG CODEX 74 HELENE SCHECK1 THAT THE WOMEN’s community at Chelles featured a scriptorium during the abbacy of Charlemagne’s sister, Gisela (r. ca. 785–ca. 810), is now widely accepted.2 Based on manuscript survivals, moreover, we know that the scriptorium was industrious as well as sophisticated, capable of producing deluxe manuscripts for export as well as more ordinary books for in-house or local use. In this chapter, I would like to focus on one book produced at Chelles early in that period to consider the nature of their intellectual labour and the extent of its reach, and to demonstrate that the women of the Chelles scriptorium did not just disseminate knowledge, they helped shape it.

Halle (Saale), Universitäts- und Landesbibliothek Sachsen-Anhalt, Quedlinburg Codex 74

Quedlinburg Codex 74 (Qu. Cod. 74) represents an early effort to produce a comprehensive collection of the letters of Jerome of Strido (ca. 342/47–420). It may be the earliest such initiative and, based on evidence of survivals, seems to have been extraordinarily well received from the time of its production in the late eighth century (ca. 785/90) into the early modern era. And yet, it is all but invisible to modern scholars of Jerome due to a combination of unfortunate variables.3 This essay is an attempt to pull this codex out of 1 I offer this chapter in memory of Paul E. Szarmach, with enduring gratitude and affection.

2 Bernhard Bischoff first made the case for women’s scribal activity at Chelles in “Die Kölner Nonnenhandschriften und das Skriptorium von Chelles,” originally published in Karolingische und ottonische Kunst. Werden, Wesen, Wirkung, ed. Hermann Schnitzler (Wiesbaden: Steiner, 1957), 395– 411, an expanded version of which appeared in Bischoff, Mittelalterliche Studien: Ausgewählte Aufsätze zur Schriftkunde und Literaturgeschichte, vol. 1 of 3 (Stuttgart: Hiersemann, 1966), 16–34. His theory has since been confirmed with the discovery of relic labels from Chelles with matching script, now digitized and catalogued in Authentiques de reliques de l’abbaye de Chelles (VIIe–XVe siècle). Inventaire analytique détaillé de l’article AB/XIX/3971 (Archives nationales (France): Pierrefitte-sur-Seine, 2015) https:// www.siv.archives-nationales.culture.gouv.fr/siv/IR/FRAN_IR_052903. See also Jean-Pierre LaPorte, Le Tresor des saints de Chelles (Chelles: Société archéologique et historique de Chelles, 1988). For another key study that places the scriptorium at Chelles in a larger context, see Rosamond McKitterick, “Nuns’ Scriptoria in England and Francia in the Eighth Century,” Francia 19 (1992): 1–35, repr. in Books, Scribes and Learning, 6th–9th Centuries (Aldershot: Ashgate, 1994), article 7, 1–35 (original pagination). 3 The most significant issue seems to have been access in the early and mid twentieth century. Isidor Hilberg missed Qu. Cod. 74 entirely in his collation of manuscripts for his edition of Jerome’s letters, which remains the standard: Hieronymus, Epistulae, Corpus Scriptorum Ecclesiasticorum Latinorum (CSEL) 54–56, 2nd ed. (Vienna: Ö� sterreichischen Akademie der Wissenschaften, 1996), no doubt due to circumstances obtaining during World War I. Additionally, though Bernard

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Figure 3.1: Opening of item VI, Origen’s second homily on Song of Songs, translated by Jerome. Halle (Saale), Universitäts- und Landesbibliothek Sachsen-Anhalt, Quedlinburg Codex 74, fol. 10r. CC BY 4.0.4

the shadows and into the limelight and to demonstrate its role in the development and transmission of Jerome’s epistolary corpus.4 At 417 folios (originally more like 470 fols.) and 32.5 × 21.5 cm, Qu. Cod. 74 is substantial. Though not a deluxe manuscript, it is an elegant one, clearly intended for private reading and study among an elite audience. Its folios are well ruled in long lines with double vertical border lines, compiled in gatherings of eight with hair-side facing out, following insular style, and copied by a set of skillful hands in a measured Caroline minuscule of the Chelles variety with titles in uncial. What ornamentation graces the folios distinguishes letter titles and openings, chapters, and key words, and assists navigation through the text: titles are rubricated in typical Carolingian fashion, usually in red ink, but sometimes with alternating green and red letters or letter groupings; large initials mark openings and key chapters or passages, and are sometimes rubricated or highlighted with a yellow wash (see Figure 3.1). Each item is clearly numbered (with rare exceptions), as is the end of each quire, and running headers are supplied in the upper margin for longer letters and treatises.5 Scribal glosses, Nota signs, and other symbols, often highlighted with yellow wash, draw attention to significant points or topics (see Figure 3.2). The manuscript was carefully corrected in its own time and in subsequent centuries, indicating long service as an exemplar. Marks by early and later Lambert lists the manuscript, he offers little information about it in his indispensable catalogue: Bibliotheca Hieronymiana Manuscripta (BHM), 4 vols. (Steenbrugge: Sint Pietersabdij / Turnhout: Brepols, 1969), 1a:266. 4 This and all other images from Qu. Cod. 74 have been made publicly available by the generosity and industry of Halle (Saale), Universitäts- und Landesbibliothek Sachsen-Anhalt, in accordance with Creative Commons, 4.0 Deutschland: Digitale Sammlungen der Universitäts- und Landesbibliothek Sachsen-Anhalt, http://doi.org/10.25673/36185. 5 Some of these features have been lost to trimming; once or twice the scribe seems to have forgotten to insert a header.



35

readers, in ink as well as in dry point, are plentiful, attesting active use over the course of at least five centuries; at some point thread was stitched into the outer margin of several leaves to mark especially important letters.6 In its current form, the manuscript contains 111 items, the last of which is numbered CXVIII. It is missing the first, third, fourth, and final quires, which would have included, by Chelles count, items I, II, and VII–XII7 in the early missing quires and probably five more items in at least two final quires, which brings the original Chelles count to 123.8 Of the 111 items extant, some are epistolary treatises, one item is given a number but provides only the salutation, and on two occasions (three in the hypothetical original) the letter is split and each part numbered separately.9 Conversely, a letter from Paula and Eustochium to Marcella (ep. 46) is subsumed within a letter from Jerome to Marcella (ep. 43) and not Figure 3.2: Typical scribal annotation marks. Halle (Saale), Universitäts- und Landesbibliothek Sachsen-Anhalt, Quedlinburg Codex 74, fol. 91v. CC BY 4.0.

6 All to Marcella (though ep. 30 is addressed to Paula in other manuscripts): item XCVIIII (fol. 364v; CSEL 54, ep. 26), on Hebrew words and names; CII (fol. 367r; CSEL 54, ep. 42), refuting Novatian; CV (fol. 369v; CSEL 54, ep. 43), urging Marcella to leave Rome; CVII (fol. 372r; CSEL 54, ep. 29), on the power of the letter and on Hebrew words; CVIII (fol. 377r; CSEL 54, ep. 32), enumerating the merits of Aquila’s translation of the Old Testament, which some found suspect; CX (fol. 377v; CSEL 54, ep. 30), on the “alphabetical” Psalms. 7 I use the term “item” with its assigned Roman numeral to refer to manuscript entries, since they may or may not be letters, and also to distinguish the manuscript recension from the modern edition. For letters from Hilberg’s edition, I use “ep.” and the appropriate Arabic numeral.

8 We can be fairly certain about which letters are missing because three close relatives of the codex survive: Paris, Bibliothèque nationale de France, MSS Latin 1869 and Latin 1871; and Vatican City, Bibliotheca Apostolica Vaticana (BAV), MS Vaticanus latinus 355/356. See discussion below. 9 Letters 36 and 55 in the extant manuscript; letter 18 in the original collection. Letters 55 and 18 often circulated in two parts during the early period.

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assigned its own number. Similarly, the first item in the original was probably comprised of epistle 35, with epistle 19 appended silently to it.10 Three items that should have been numbered are not: items XXXII, LXXI, and LXXXVII(I); each of those instances relates to an item that may have been in the original compendium but was removed or replaced: a pseudonymous letter on virginity (XXXII) may have replaced another pseudonymous text, the Disputatio de ratione animae; the letter to Rusticus (LXXI; ep. 125) follows the “ghost” item LXX (to a deacon Laurentius); and the unnumbered but important letter to Aleta (a.k.a. Laeta, ep. 107) follows what may originally have been the second of two letters to Demetrias, item LXXXVI(I), the first possibly having been removed for some reason. The lack of numbers in these places may reflect editorial or scribal uncertainty while incorporating the changes or the numbers were simply dropped in the process of effecting the changes.11 Although some of the letters are partial, most are complete (or would have been). Most letter omissions can be attributed to missing folios and quires; others may simply not have been available. Comprehensiveness was clearly an objective in this compilation. The compiler did not simply string together smaller groupings as they presented themselves, however, but shaped it according to a particular logic to guide reception.12 While the rationale may be construed any number of ways according to addressee and/or topic, it seems to me that pragmatic concerns form the core of the compendium (𝞟 in Table 3.1), comprised of pastoral letters on ascetic, monastic, or clerical life and conduct, bolstered periodically by affirmations of the faith and pronouncements against heretical ideas. The core is sandwiched between letters addressing theoretical concerns (𝞗 in Table 3.1). These range from theology to scriptural exegesis and problems of translation and interpretation or abstract institutional issues. The pragmatic core is bounded by these letters since deliberations and ruminations of abstract questions and problems inform appropriate Christian conduct and delineate the contours of the orthodox faith. Epistolary epitaphs provide an appropriate capstone or epilogue (𝞔 in Table 3.1) to the whole. By this logic, the volume presents as a carefully curated compendium of Christian thought and practice, concluding with a celebration of lives well lived—that is, exemplars of the ideals expounded in the earlier portions of the codex. 10 Based on contents of analogous survivals, BnF, Latin 1871 and BAV Vat. lat. 355.

11 In the first two instances the count resumes with the appropriate number; in the third instance, however, the count is off by one. My final count fortuitously matches the manuscript count (based on analogues) because, while I discount both the empty entry (LXX) and the skipped one (LXXXVI(I)), I count letters 19 and 43. 12 One indication of that sort of simple compilation is the repetition of letters, which suggests dossiers joined without editing, as we see in Napoli, Biblioteca Nazionale, MS VI.D.59 (seventh century, twenty-two letters), where ep. 14 appears in two different sequences; in É� pinal, Bibliothèque municipale, MS 68 (149) (eighth century, thirty-three letters), epp. 27 and 28; and in Karlsruhe, Landesbibliothek, MS Aug.perg. 197 (Reichenau, ninth century, thirty-four letters), epp. 1, 83, and 84.



Jerome of Strido at Chelles

37

Table 3.1. Structural Overview of Halle, ULB, Quedlinburg Codex 74

1

2

3

4

Item #

Type

[I-XIII]

XIIII-XXXI

𝞗

𝞗

Audience/ Correspondents Pope Damasus

XXXIII-LXXXII

𝞟

Clerical, monastic, lay men

Bishop Augustine

LXXXIII-XCIIII

𝞟

Ascetic and lay women

CXII-[CXXIII]

𝞔

Various

XCV-XCVI XCVII-CXI

𝞗 𝞗

Ascetic and lay women Marcella

Topic(s) theology, scripture, institution translation and interpretation; orthodoxy; theories of the soul lifestyle, behaviour, orthodoxy lifestyle, behaviour, orthodoxy exegesis, orthodoxy exegesis, translation and interpretation, theology, orthodoxy vitae and passions

While there is nothing to prevent usage by men, the inclusion of so many texts on virginity and widowhood framed in terms of women’s experience and sociality suggests that the book was not only produced by women, but that it was also intended for them. Indeed, excerpts from Jerome’s letters to Eustochium, Demetrias, and Furia comprise the first three chapters in the rule for canonesses codified at the Aachen Council of 816/17 under Louis the Pious (r. 813–833, 834–840). The manuscript’s provenance supports that observation: although we cannot locate the manuscript securely before the tenth century, it came to the royal women’s community at Quedlinburg in the tenth century, quite possibly on its founding in 935. A signature “Hathui…” (Hedwig) in the upper margin of fol. 150r in a ninth- or early tenth-century hand suggests an intermediate female owner, lay or monastic.13

13 The inscription potentially links the manuscript to the women’s community at Herford or to the Ottonian royal family: it could refer to the abbess who ruled the royal women’s community at Herford (858/887) or to the mother-in-law of Queen Mathilda of Saxony, who founded the women’s community of St. Servatius, Quedlinburg. There are other possibilities as well, including the mother-in-law of Louis the Pious, who became abbess of Chelles sometime in the 820s (if we can assign an earlier date to the script); Hedwig is not an uncommon name among the Saxon ruling classes. Indeed, the note may have been inscribed by a nun at virtually any elite Saxon or northern French monastery, including Quedlinburg and Chelles, during the late ninth century or mid tenth century. The identification remains elusive and is not enough as yet to secure an interim host in the manuscript’s provenance.

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The Legacy of Qu. Cod. 74 Whatever its purpose or intervening provenance, Qu. Cod. 74 seems to have rooted a new branch in the manuscript tradition of Jerome’s epistolary corpus.14 Manuscripts featuring all or most of the letters and treatises in Qu. Cod. 74, arranged in the same order, were produced from the ninth century into the fifteenth century, beginning in northern France with Paris, Bibliothèque nationale de France, MSS Latin 1869 and Latin 1871.15 By the late ninth or early tenth century a copy was produced in southern Italy, Biblioteca Apostolica Vaticana, MS Vaticanus Latinus 355/356;16 and by the twelfth century, copies were being produced in England as well as on the continent. In total, at least eleven full copies survive following this order precisely or nearly so, from the ninth century to the thirteenth. Table 3.2: Manuscripts in the Qu. Cod. 74 Family

Date s. IX

City Paris

Repository Bibliothèque nationale de France

s. XII

Cambridge London

University Library British Library

s. IX/X Vatican City

s. XIII

Lincoln Lincoln

Bibliotheca Apostolica Vaticana

Cathedral Library Cathedral Library

Shelfmark Latin 1869 Latin 1871 Vaticanus Latinus 355/356 Dd.2.7 Royal 6 C XI Royal 6 D I Royal 6 D II Royal 6 D III Harley 3340 C.1.1 A.2.16

This branch of Jerome’s epistolary tradition is defined by content, arrangement, and textual agreement. On the whole, with the exception of two apparently controversial items (XXXII and the first letter to Demetrias) and one errant item (LXX), all of the manu14 It is of course possible that Qu. Cod. 74 itself was copied from an earlier manuscript that no longer exists. The atelier at Chelles likely produced a working version from which this manuscript was copied, and probably other basic reading copies as well as export copies, though no such survivals have been located. There is no evidence at this time to suggest an earlier model from outside the scriptorium of Chelles.

15 The ensuing discussion focuses only on the manuscript copies of the full compendium produced in the ninth and tenth centuries. For provenance and date of the relevant manuscripts I follow Bernhard Bischoff, Katalog der festländischen Handschriften des neunten Jahrhunderts (mit Ausnahme der wisigotischen), ed. Brigit Ebersperger, 3 vols. (Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz, 2014).

16 Bischoff, Katalog, vol. 3; E. A. Lowe, “A New List of Beneventan Manuscripts,” in Collectanea Vaticana in honorem Anselmi M. Card. Albareda (Vatican City: Bibliotheca Apostolica Vaticana, 1961), 211–44. Janet Blow provides a detailed description and discussion of the manuscript in “Codex Vaticanus Latinus 355 + 356 and the Text of Jerome’s Letters in South Italy,” Monastica 4 (1984): 69–83.



Jerome of Strido at Chelles

39

scripts in this group include the same letters and treatises in the same order; enumeration of items corresponds as well (after factoring in omission of the problematic texts). (See Appendix A for a comparative listing of contents for the early group.) Manuscripts in this group also agree in particulars relating to the presentation and shaping of the letters themselves: excerption, splitting, and combining of letters, framing of the texts (titles, incipits, explicits, enumeration, etc.), and other textual variants. The compendium opens with a list of questions from Damasus in the form of two letters (epp. 35 and 19, respectively) spliced together into item I, with the full text retained, but no distinct title for epistle 19.17 Elsewhere, the two letters are typically kept distinct, each one placed before its respective response from Jerome. Here, the consolidation of questions posed by Damasus frames the dossier of correspondence between Jerome and his eminent admirer within the larger whole; it also provides an apt rhetorical prompt for the compendium as a whole by establishing Jerome’s authority, casting him in his scholarly role, and foregrounding the crucial function of such eminent scholars. Similarly, for item CV, an excerpt from epistle 46 is attached to epistle 43 without title or indication other than Vale to signal the end of letter 46. Since the Explicit restates the subject of letter 43, however, 46 is effectively subsumed into the larger epistle. Qu. Cod. 74 is one of only a few manuscripts to adopt this form of 43/46 and seems to be the earliest; the manuscripts in this cluster follow suit. In contrast to these couplings, other letters have been divided into multiple items. Although it was not unusual for certain letters to circulate in two parts in the early period, the manuscripts in this cluster adopt the same divisions introduced in or adopted by Qu. Cod. 74 for epistles 36 and 55, letters that likely circulated in entirely different dossiers. Epistle 36 is split into three distinct parts, items II, III, and IIII, each with its own title (see Appendix A).18 Similarly, epistle 55 is split into two parts with chapters one, two, four, and five presented first as item XXXVII and chapter three following as item XXXVIII.19 Qu. Cod. 74 may have used a source derived from Naples, Biblioteca Nazionale, MS VI.D.59 (s. VII), which omits chapter three entirely. While other scribes seem to have reincorporated the missing chapter by tacking it onto the end, the Qu. Cod. 74 scribe or compiler adds it as a separate item. It is not the only manuscript to treat the problem this way, but it is an early witness, and its title and incipit distinguish this version from others. As another example, based on the evidence of other manuscripts in this cluster, we can assume that ep. 18 would have been included in the compendium and treated as two separate items. Apparently, ep. 18 circulated as two separate letters from an early date. The two parts, edited by Hilberg as 18a and 18b, appear in various 17 Letter 19 is tacked on to letter 35. This opening item is missing from Qu. Cod. 74 but extant in two of its early analogues, BnF, Latin 1871 and BAV Vat. lat. 355/356.

18 Although Qu. Cod. 74 begins with the end of item III, items I, II, and III are presented fully in Latin 1871 and Vat. lat. 355/356, where they agree with the vestiges present in Qu. Cod. 74, and all agree on the presentation of item IIII. This letter is missing from the acephalous Latin 1869. See Appendix A for details. 19 Chapters are as delineated in Hilberg’s edition. In Latin 1871 these items are numbered XXXVI and XXXVII, respectively.

40

Helene Scheck

ways throughout the manuscript tradition: together or separately, in the order Hilberg assigns or the reverse. In this particular group of manuscripts, 18b precedes 18a. Textual variants are of course key in demonstrating transmission patterns and relationships among manuscripts. Obvious examples are epistle 102 (item XV), where the third and final chapter is simply dropped, and 110 (item XVIII), which opens with chapter three and then omits several lines at the end of chapter three and beginning of chapter four. These particular versions are not uncommon, but taken together—and in addition to the other variants mentioned—they confirm the close kinship of these early manuscripts. Some of the most telling clues to codicological kinship may be found in letter titles. In this cluster of manuscripts, for example, letter 30 is addressed to Marcella, not Paula, as it is in the earliest surviving witness, seventh-century Napoli, Biblioteca Nazionale, MS VI. D. 59. And as far as I can tell, only Qu. Cod. 74 and its close relatives give Jerome’s letter 118 the elaborate title “Hieronimus ad Iulianum exortatoria et de pignoribus consultum” (item CXIIII, Qu. Cod. 74, fol. 390v). In addition, of the fourteen manuscripts Hilberg collated in editing letter 14, a hortatory epistle to Heliodorus (Item XXXIII), only one manuscript apart from Vat. lat. 355/35620 agrees with Qu. Cod. 74 in identifying Heliodorus as a bishop here. The addressee of ep. 107, given as Laeta or Leta in most manuscripts, is rendered Aleta in Qu. Cod. 74 and its analogues.21 Similarly, Geruchia (ep. 123) is renamed Agherucia or Aggeruchia;22 and Demetrias’s name is spelled Demetriada at the beginning of letter 130 but Dimidriada at its conclusion. Words imported from Greek or Hebrew texts can also be useful indicators of kinship, especially when mistaken. Some are more easily rectified by subsequent scribes; others leave broader and more enduring traces. Letter 26, to Marcella on Hebrew names and words, offers a number of pertinent examples. Qu. Cod. 74’s substitution of long S for majuscule gamma in rendering 𝚪ENOITO is picked up in Latin 1871 and in Latin 1869, but not in Vat. Lat. 355, presumably because the error was caught by an attentive scribe familiar with the Septuagint translation of psalms, where, as Jerome explains, genoito (not senoito) renders the Hebrew amen. The Hebrew phrase “maran atha” becomes “marthana” in the Qu. Cod. 74 cluster; at its second mention it is spelled correctly but is still rendered as one word rather than two.23 For the Hebrew phrase “chi tob zammer” (“the psalm is good” or “it is good to sing”), Qu. Cod. 74 offers CIK ∏OB eZaMMeR, every particu20 Vatican City, Biblioteca Apostolica Vaticana, MS Vat. lat. 650, tenth century.

21 Ep. 107 (CSEL 55.290–305) is introduced as Epistula Sci Hieronimi ad Aletam de institutione filiae in Qu. Cod. 74, fol. 285v, and replicated in BnF, Latin 1869, fol. 58v; BnF, Latin 1871, fol. 156r; Vat. lat. 356, fol. 68ra. In his comment on the title of ep. 123, Hilberg claims that many manuscripts render the name as Aleta or Athleta, but does not specify further (CSEL, vol. 56, p. 72).

22 Ep. 123, titled Hieronimus ad Aggeruciam de monogamia, appears as item XCIIII in Qu. Cod. 74 (fol. 317v) and is presented that way in Latin 1869 (fol. 82v) and Vat. lat. 356 (fol. 95ra); Latin 1871 alters the name slightly to Agheruciam (fol. 174r).

23 Ep. 26, to Marcella on Hebrew names and words (CSEL 54, p. 221): Q74, item XCVIIII, fol. 364v; Latin 1869, fol. 118v; Latin 1871, 204r; Vat. lat. 356, fol. 135va. All but Vat. lat. 356 were corrected, but the original rendering can still be discerned. See Appendix D for a comparison of relevant passages from this and other letters across a range of Jerome’s correspondence.



Jerome of Strido at Chelles

41

lar of which, including the use of pi and uncial e and a (represented here simply by lowercase e and a), is replicated in each manuscript of this cluster with only one minor exception, where the scribe of Latin 1869 mistakes the Greek pi for N.24 Greek πεπιστωμέ� νως (pepistomenos) is treated more or less correctly, except that the scribe substitutes omicron for omega; that form is then transmitted throughout the cluster. Greek ἐ� 𝜉𝜂𝛾𝜂𝜏𝜄𝜘𝜊𝜐𝜎 (exegetikous) is truncated and altered to 𝛇HTHTIKOC, an erroneous form picked up in subsequent manuscripts. The majuscule eta looks like a Latin H, which can also resemble a majuscule N; the confusion between H/N is compounded by the resemblance of the minuscule eta to the Latin n, so that a Latin scribe may understandably transcribe a lower-case eta to a majuscule N. There seems to have been some confusion between Latin T and majuscule gamma among Latin scribes, which is a factor here as well. I suspect that the first T-shape was meant to be gamma. It looks like a T, but its cross bar is much longer and curves up at each end, in contrast to the second T, which is shorter and its cross bar narrower with no curvature. The scribes of Latin 1869, Latin 1871, and Vat. lat. 356 approach this word with varying degrees of success. They rightly recognize majuscule eta and render it accordingly, even though it could easily have been mistaken for capital N. The scribe of Latin 1871 understandably sees both T-shapes as Latin T, as confirmed by the accompanying transcription, which also renders Z as the more familiar Latin S: setetikos (fol. 204r). The scribes of Latin 1869 and Vat. lat. 356, however, read the first “T” correctly as majuscule gamma. In Latin 1869, the gamma character still looks like a Latin T, but the scribe seems to have attempted a distinction from the majuscule Tau by creating a bifurcated base and, perhaps, squaring the ends of the cross bar. Perhaps unsure of their success, the scribe provides a transcription to ensure proper understanding: “zegeticos” (fol. 118v). In the end, the initial epsilon is still dropped in all of these cases and xi remains zeta. Despite the efforts of attentive scribes, the concordance of these particular infelicities once again leads back to Qu. Cod. 74 or its direct antecedent. However diligent the scribes, a multitude of variants was introduced and replicated with each group of letters copied throughout the long history of the dissemination of Jerome’s correspondence. There will never be complete agreement, but my collations throughout the corpus consistently yield a high correlation of variants among manuscripts in this cluster, many of which seem to be exclusive to the group and may well have been introduced during production of Qu. Cod. 74.25 Appendix D provides a more detailed sampling of variants in passages from eight different letters, including the letter on Hebrew names and words just discussed.

24 The translation of the Hebrew comes from the anonymous translation of Jerome’s letter published on Epistolae, https://epistolae.ctl.columbia.edu/letter/428.html. Accessed May 15, 2022.

25 I do not claim exhaustive collation, though I have conducted extensive comparisons against many letters throughout Hilberg’s three-volume edition as well as directly against other manuscripts contemporary with or predating Qu. Cod. 74; the correlation remains high within this cluster of manuscripts.

42

Helene Scheck

Paris, Bibliothèque nationale de France, Latin 1869 The earliest surviving manuscript in this group, BnF, Latin 1869, bears a particularly close resemblance to Qu. Cod. 74. Bernhard Bischoff tentatively locates Latin 1869 to northern France in the second quarter of the ninth century.26 Based on content, organization, design, and stylistic conventions, it must have been copied directly from Qu. Cod. 74 or an identical sibling, and may even have been produced at Chelles or a closely related community. The surviving portion of the manuscript, which is not insubstantial, matches Qu. Cod. 74 in every respect: from selection of letters and treatises to arrangement, numbering, and visual composition of the texts to title phrasing and textual variants. In addition, running headers and scribal notae and glosses in Latin 1869 match Qu. Cod. 74 exactly.27 Even the title for item LXX on Qu. Cod. 74 folio 210r, Hieronimi Pr[e] sb[ite]r[i] ad Laurentium diaconum, is faithfully copied onto folio 321v of Latin 1869, though no letter ever seems to have accompanied it. Likewise, the original title and number for Jerome’s letter to Demetrias, as well as running headers and an alternate spelling of her name in the explicit, are all retained in Latin 1869. Only item XXXII differs: where Qu. Cod. 74 (fols. 70r–79v) offers a letter from Ps.Jerome (Pelagius) to the daughter of Mauritius on virginity, Latin 1869 presents the apocryphal Disputatio de ratione animae (fols. 218–233v), falsely ascribed to Jerome and Augustine. Although the alteration may have originated with Latin 1869, I believe Qu. Cod. 74 initially had the Disputatio in this place but later replaced it with the PseudoHieronymian letter on virginity, perhaps because the Disputatio was found to be spurious, while the letter on virginity was still considered authentic. I have a few reasons to suspect a substitution here: first, this is one of the few places in Qu. Cod. 74 where an item is not numbered; second, the beginning and end of the letter appear to be written over expunged text; and third, the topic is out of place in the scheme of the letter collection, whereas the disputation on the soul would provide a logical conclusion to the Augustinian discussion of the soul and the declaration of faith that immediately precede it (items XXX and XXXI). The scribes of Latin 1869 also emulate some stylistic features of Qu. Cod. 74, even while maintaining their house style and asserting their own stylistic flair throughout the manuscript. For now, one example should suffice: item XCII (ep. 54), the letter to Furia on remaining a chaste widow. (Figures 3.3 and 3.4. See Appendix B for other examples.) 26 Bischoff, Katalog, 3:51. Though I cannot prove a Chelles origin, it cannot be ruled out at this point.

27 Complications have been introduced in the 1,200 years that have elapsed since the manuscript’s production, however. First, like Qu. Cod. 74, BnF, Latin 1869 has lost its opening quires. In addition, when it was rebound it was incorrectly reassembled so that what was originally the latter half of the manuscript (item numbers LXXI to CXXIII) now opens the manuscript (folios 1r through 177v). The first part of the manuscript proper begins on fol. 178r in the middle of ep. 21 to Damasus; the next item, ep. 101, to Augustine, is numbered XIIII. The second surviving quire is marked VIII, which means that six quires with twelve items and part of the thirteenth were lost before the present “beginning” (fol. 178r). Fortunately, the remainder of the manuscript, including the final quires, is generally intact, despite the rearrangement.



Jerome of Strido at Chelles

43

The initial monogram OB[secras] is the most striking point of similarity, but the numbering convention and the EXPL monogram signalling the end of the previous letter, to Castorina, are also worth noting. These and other stylistic conventions are adapted differently throughout, but here they match Chelles usage.

Figure 3.3: Halle (Saale), Universitäts- und Landesbibliothek Sachsen-Anhalt, Quedlinburg Codex 74, fol. 306r. CC BY 4.0.

Figure 3.4: Paris, Bibliothèque nationale de France, MS Latin 1869, fol. 73v.28

Even scribal glosses and marginal signs are replicated consistently, and sometimes exactly, in BnF, Latin 1869, as in the following examples. (See Appendix C for more.) 1. An unusual Nota sign, incorporating “AGE” (for Agustine) into the usual monogram.

2. Item XXXIIII (ep. 52): marginal signs M, chresimon, and Nota with gloss, de arrogantibus doctorum.

28 This and all subsequent images from Latin 1869 are reproduced by permission of the Bibliothèque nationale de France, Paris, as per their policy regarding scholarly publication. I was also kindly granted permission to take some photos of the manuscript during my visit, two of which appear below. Most of the images, like this one, are taken from the microfilm facsimile published on Gallica at https://gallica.bnf.fr/ark:/12148/btv1b100385795.

44

Helene Scheck

Figure 3.5: Halle (Saale), Universitätsund Landesbibliothek Sachsen-Anhalt, Quedlinburg Codex 74, fol. 30r. CC BY 4.0.

Figure 3.6: Paris, Bibliothèque nationale de France, MS Latin 1869, fol. 185v. Photograph by Helene Scheck.

Figure 3.7: Halle (Saale), Universitätsund Landesbibliothek Sachsen-Anhalt, Quedlinburg Codex 74, fol. 88v. CC BY 4.0.

Figure 3.8: Paris, Bibliothèque nationale de France, MS Latin 1869, fol. 229r.



Jerome of Strido at Chelles

45

Other Early Witnesses to the Qu. Cod. 74 Epistolary Tradition Two other early manuscripts also bear close affinity to Qu. Cod. 74: Paris, Bibliothèque nationale de France, Latin 1871, and BAV, Vat. lat. 355/356. Latin 1871, a mid-ninthcentury manuscript Bischoff locates to northern France, matches Qu. Cod. 74 in content and arrangement with two exceptions.29 First, it adopts neither the Disputatio de ratione animae nor the letter on virginity, assigning the number XXXII to the next item in the arrangement instead. Second, even though a letter to Laurentius is listed in its capitulary, Latin 1871 does not incorporate the empty title for item LXX; once again, that number is assigned to the next in the arrangement, the letter to the monk Rusticus on penitence. Otherwise, based on content, arrangement, and textual variants, Latin 1871 is clearly in the immediate family of Qu. Cod. 74. Written in compact script, with thirtyseven lines per page, and much plainer than the other manuscripts, this is the Ford edition of the group, not the Tesla. Latin 1871 does not seem to have adopted the scribal notes of Qu. Cod. 74, though it does have plenty of Nota signs of its own. It also does not always match titles and explicits, probably in favour of house convention and opting when possible for more concise phrasing. It was produced as economically as possible and seems to have been intended—and used well—for reading and study. Vat. lat. 355/356, produced in southern Italy at a scriptorium related to Benevento ca. 900, was originally a single volume but was split into two volumes by the fifteenth century. It is very different in script (Beneventan style), layout (two columns), and ornamentation (southern Italian rather than northern French palette and motifs). Titles differ at times, usually by adding an official appellation or some other descriptor appropriate to an iconic figure, but such variants are not substantive. In content and arrangement, the manuscript is nearly identical to Qu. Cod. 74. Numbering, too, generally matches, though the scribe or rubricator neglects to add a number at times and at other times gets off track.30 Vat. lat. 355/356 also shares textual variants with Qu. Cod. 74, Latin 1869, and Latin 1871. Like Latin 1869, Vat. lat. 355/356 contains the Disputatio de ratione animae. Though it does not bear the trace of the first letter to Demetrias in its title or headers, it retains the original item number. Unlike Latin 1869 and 1871, however, the manuscript does not register the errant letter to Laurentius in its capitula or in the main text. These three early volumes are clearly rooted in Qu. Cod. 74. The places where they do not align can often be explained by missing folios, updated orthography or knowledge (a correction against a newly obtained edition of the letters, for example, or a changing perception of a particular letter as apocryphal), scribal flair, error, or other idiosyncrasies.

29 Bischoff, Katalog, vol. 3.

30 A modern hand supplies missing numerals. My analysis is based on numbers entered by hands contemporary to the production of the manuscript.

46

Helene Scheck

Later Manuscripts of the Qu. Cod. 74 Branch A further group of manuscripts, all of English origin and provenance, attests the vitality of the tradition into the twelfth century31: London, British Library, MSS Royal 6 C xi; Royal 6 D i; Royal 6 D ii; and Royal 6 D iii; and Cambridge, University Library, MS Dd.2.7, which appears to be identical as well. Lincoln, Cathedral Library, MS A.2.16 (s. xiii) and MS C.1.1. (s. xii) also seem to be part of this group but require further analysis. Based on a preliminary examination, London, British Library, Harley MS 3340 appears to be very close, if not identical, to the Royal manuscripts. It has all of the items of Qu. Cod. 74 in the same basic order, but it includes other items, such as the Life of St. Jerome and the story of Jerome and the lion. It is a sort of expanded edition that attests to the rapid enhancement of Jerome’s reputation by the twelfth century. I have not had an opportunity to examine any of these manuscripts, but some conclusions can be drawn from the detailed descriptions of the Royal manuscripts and their contents, which have been helpfully itemized by number, title, and/or incipit.32 All have 123 items following the arrangement of Qu. Cod. 74 and its early offshoots, with the opening sequences of letters matching those of BnF, Latin 1871 and BAV Vat. lat. 355 and the concluding sequences of letters matching those of BnF, Latin 1869, Latin 1871, and Vat. lat. 356. All include the apocryphal Disputatio de ratione animae as item XXXII; the Cambridge manuscript probably did as well, but five folios are missing where item XXXII once was. In addition, like Latin 1871, Royal MS 6 C XI lists a letter to the deacon Laurentius as item LXX in its table of contents, but neither text nor title appears in the manuscript itself; it’s not clear if the other Royal manuscripts follow suit. The titles are not always identical, though often the difference relates to convention or preference in salutation or appellation as in Latin 1871 and Vat. lat. 355/356. The incipits for the Royal manuscripts, however, all match the early manuscripts of the Qu. Cod. 74 cluster exactly, discounting orthographic idiosyncracies (michi for mihi, for example, or quan for quam) and convention (ae vs. e). Obviously, it is impossible to tell from incipits whether letters 19 and 46 are attached to 35 and 43, but they do indicate that letters 18, 36, and 55 are divided in the same manner; letter 18b precedes 18a as in Qu. Cod. 74; letter 110 follows 111 and begins with chapter three; and letter 140 begins at chapter 16, as in the Qu. Cod. 74 group. Moreover, letter 118, to Julian, adopts the distinctive 31 Lambert’s catalogue of Hieronymian manuscripts (BHM) lists other late manuscripts, English and continental, that seem to be part of this tradition, but those possibilities require verification and closer analysis.

32 David Casley’s eighteenth-century catalogue remains a valuable resource together with the modern overviews and supplementary information provided through the British Library’s department of Manuscripts and Archives (https://www.bl.uk/subjects/manuscripts-andarchives#). David Casley, A Catalogue of the Manuscripts of the King’s Library: An Appendix to the Catalogue of the Cottonian Library: Together with an Account of Books Burnt Or Damaged by a Late Fire: One Hundred and Fifty Specimens of the Manner of Writing in Different Ages, from the Third to the Fifteenth Century, in Copper-plates: and Some Observations Upon Mss, in a Preface (London, 1734): Google Books, https://www.google.com/books/edition/A_Catalogue_of_the_Manuscripts_ of_the_Ki/QUUSAAAAIAAJ?hl=en&gbpv=1. Contents of Royal 6 C XI appear on pp. 107–11.



Jerome of Strido at Chelles

47

title of the Qu. Cod. 74 compendium; letter 30 is to Marcella, not Paula; and the British Library and Cambridge manuscripts also adopt the altered names Aleta and Aggeruchia. Although they are among the latest in this cluster of manuscripts I have identified as offshoots of Qu. Cod. 74, these four English manuscripts may reflect the original version of Qu. Cod. 74. That is, in addition to retaining the Disputatio de ratione animae, Royal manuscripts 6 C XI, 6 D I, 6 D III, and CUL DD.2.7 include the Pelagian letter to Demetrias as well as the Hieronymian, the two items I believe were removed from Qu. Cod. 74. These are the only places of discrepancy in content among all manuscripts in this recension of Jerome’s letters (aside from the errant item LXX to the deacon Laurentius). To judge by the script of Qu. Cod. 74 in those places, both alterations must have been made not long after the manuscript was produced, since the new text and titles are still recognizable as belonging to the group of scribes identified by Bischoff as working at Chelles in the early ninth century. Copies produced from the original version of the compendium apparently made their way to England, therefore, where they continued to be disseminated. Other copies reflect different stages of revision. Latin 1869 seems to represent an early revision, since it retains the Disputatio, but the first letter to Demetrias had already been removed. Latin 1871 probably derived from an intermediate stage, before the letter on virginity replaced the Disputatio de ratione animae. The latest version, which includes the Pelagian letter on virginity in place of the Disputatio, probably also generated copies, some of which may be extant but have not yet been identified as such. The group of manuscripts produced in England represents one node in a centurieslong tradition in the shaping and dissemination of Jerome’s epistolary corpus. Though entirely different principles would guide the arrangement of modern editions of the corpus, this particular arrangement seems to have been reproduced in its various iterations at least through the fifteenth century in England as well as on the continent. Much work would need to be done before we can get a sense of who sought out this particular edition of the corpus and for what purposes. Nonetheless, it would appear that the scriptorium at Chelles under the direction of Gisela produced what Paul Szarmach would call a “big box office hit.”

1r

IIII

[P2, V: Incipit epistola Papae Damasi ad Hieronimum praesbiterum.] [P2, V: Item Damasus ad Hieronimum.] [P2, V: Incipit epistola Sci Hieronimi (V: presbyteri) ad Damasum de VII Uindictis Cain.] [P2: Hieronimus ad Damasum de egressione filiorum Israhel de Egipto] Damasus de Isaac…Hieronimus.36

Title/Incipit33

–

–

– –

P1 –

5v

4v

3v

3r

P2 3r

355.5rb

355.3vb35

355.2va 355.2vb

V 355.2ra34

36c (15ff)

[36b: 10–14]

[19] [36a: 1–9]

[35]

Offshoots P1 BnF Latin 1869 P2 BnF Latin 1871 V BAV Vat.lat. 355/356 NB: Variants, aside from inconsequential orthographical, in brackets. Location in offshoots Ep. # (CSEL)/PL location

36 The title in Qu. Cod. 74 presents Damasus’s question, followed by “Hieronimus” in red lead ink to open the response proper. Vat. lat. 355, fol. 5r, matches the format of Qu. Cod. 74. Latin 1871 offers a more descriptive title here, “Item Hieronimum ad Damasum, de ignorantia Isaac in Benedicendis filiis,” reminiscent of the running header on fols. 1v and 2r of Qu. Cod. 74 (de benedictione/Isaac & ignorantia eius).

35 BAV Vat. lat. 355, fol. 3v: de egressione filiorum iliorum Israhel ex egypto.

34 BAV Vat. lat. 355, fol. 2ra, adds: In nomine trino diuino…presbiterum.

33 In rendering titles and incipits, I have silently expanded most abbreviations and capitalized proper nouns for clarity. Bracketed items for Qu. Cod. 74 listings are hypothetical, with titles supplied from the analogues. Some of the more interesting variants or departures are addressed in footnotes along with items requiring explanation. All have been drawn from microfilm and digital facsimile, as well as notes from my examination of the manuscripts themselves.

5

[III]

4

1r

[s.n.] [II]

[I]

Item #

2 3

1

Fol.

Appendix A: Comparative Table of Contents Halle, Universitäts- und Landesbibliothek Sachsen-Anhalt Quedlinburg Codex 74 48 Helene Scheck

10r

7

[X]

[XI]

11

12

[P2: Item Hieronimus ad Damasum de seraphim et calculo]

[P2: Hieronimus ad (V : Papam) Damasum de Osanna.] [P2: Hieronimus ad (V : Papam) damasum, de fide cui in Antiochia communicare debeat (V : deberet)] [P2: Item de eadem re]

[P2: Epistola Hieronimi ad Tranquillinum quomodo Origenem debeat legere.]

Incipit Homelia II

Translatio Sci Hieronimi de tractatu Origenis in Epithalamicis.

Hieronimus Damaso.37

–

–

–

–

–

–

–

17v

17v

16v

15v

6v [De cantico canticorum tractatus] 11r [Item de eadem re] 15v

6v

[15]

[16] 355.23va: [Item ad Papam Damasum unde supra] 355.24ra [Item [18b] ad Damasum Scs Hieronimus de seraphin & calculo]

355.22rb

PL 23. 1185B– 1196 [62]

PL 23.1173B (prologue)38 PL 23.1174– 1184A

355.20ra: [Hieronimi epistola…legere debeat] 355.20va [20]

355.13ra

355.6vb

355.6va

38 Patrologiae Cursus Completus. Series Latina, ed. J. P. Migne (Paris: Migne, 1844–1855) (hereafter PL).

Jerome of Strido at Chelles

37 Cf. Latin 1871, fol. 6v: “Item Hieronimus ad damasum de expositione Origenis in Canticis canticorum.” Vat. lat. 355 is again much closer to Qu. Cod. 74: “Hieronimus Damaso pape” (6va). No number is given for the prologue.

[VIIII]

[VIII]

[VII]

VI

V

[s.n.]

10

9

8

3r

2v

6b

6a

49

34v

22

XXI

XVIIII XX

XVII XVIII

XVI

XV

XIIII

Epistola Sci Agustini ad Beatum Hieronimum.

Item rescriptum Hieronimi ad Augustinum Ag[ustinus]. P[re]sidio. Epistola Sci Agustini ad Scm Hieronimum. Item Agustinus ad Hieronimum Hieronimus ad Agustinum

[P2: Hieronimus ad Damasum de filio prodigo] Epistola Sci Agustini ad Beatum Hieronimum. Rescribtum Beati Hieronimi ad Agustinum, II.

[P2: Item ad Damasum de eadem uisione]

190r

186v 188v

184v 184v

184r

183v

183r

–

–

33r

31r 32r

29r 29r

29r

28v [rescriptum; omits II]

28v

22v

19r

355.43ra 355.44vb [Hieronimi ad Agustinam] 355.46ra

355.40vb 355.41ra

355.40ra [rescriptum; ad gustinum; omits II] 355.40va

355.39vb

355.25va-b [Sermo Sci Hieronimi de morte Ozie regis et seraphin et calculo in Esaie propheta] 355.31va

39 This letter is acephalous in both Qu. Cod. 74 and BnF, Latin 1869; the running header is de filio/prodigo in Qu. Cod. 74.

30v 33r

20 21

27r

17

27v 27v

26v

16

18 19

26r

15

[XIII]39

14

17r

[XII]

13

67

56 105

111 110.3 ff.

103

102.1–2

101

21

[18a] 50 Helene Scheck

66v 67r 67v 67v

68r

70r

28 29 30 31

32

33

[s.n.]

XXXI

XXVII XXVIII XXVIIII XXX

XXVI

XXIIII XXV

XXIII

XXII

Incipit epistola Sci Hieronimi ad filiam Mauricii de uirginibus

Item Sci Agustini ad Beatum Hieronimum. Domino vere sco et beatissimo papae Agustino, Hieronimus.40 Hieronimus Marcellino et Anapsychiae Epistola Beati Agustini ad Scm Hieronimum de origine animae Item Agustinus ad Hieronimum de eo quod scriptum est: qui totam legem seruauerit offendat autem in uno factus est omnium reus Hieronimus Agustino. Item ad eundem. Ad Ipsum. Hieronimus Alypio et Augustino episcopis Explanatio fidei Sci Hieronimi ad Agustinum et Alypium episcopos missa [355.74vb: Incipit disputatio de ratione animae]

355.71vb 355.72rb 355.72va 355.72va

355.66rb

355.57va 355.58r

355.49va

355.48r

53v […episcopi 355.73rb missa]

52v 53r 53r 53v

48v

41v 42v

36r

35r

[218r: Incipit – disputatio de ratione animae]

216v

215r 215v 215v 216r

210r

201v 202v

195v

192r

PL 30, 2181–2183 (Ps-Jerome (Pelagius) PL 30, 163–75 (Ps-Jerome (Pelagius))

134 141 142 143

132

126 131

112

104

Jerome of Strido at Chelles

40 P1 and V match title exactly; P2 adds a brief conventional title, Hieronimus Agustino, and Domino vere…hieronimus opens the letter proper.

60r

27

48v 50r

25 26

38v

24

37r

23

51

101r

103r

111r 111r

119r

38

39

41 42

44

XLIII

XLII

XL XLI

XXXVIIII

XXXVIII

XXXVII

XXXVI

XXXV

XXXIIII

XXXIII

247r 247v

242r

241r

239v

235r

231v

226v

224r [acephalous]

Hieronimus ad Oceanum de uita 252r clericorum Item ad Oceanum de unius uxoris uirum 254r

Epistola Sci Hieronimi presbiteri ad Nepotianum presbiterum de uita clericorum et monachorum Incipit epistola Sci Hieronimi ad Paulinum presbyterum, de institutione clericorum uel monachorum, et diuinae historiae, expositionibus diuersis Item epistola Sci Hieronimi secunda ad Paulinum presbiterum de omnibus diuinae historiae libris Incipit epistola Sci Hieronimi presbyteri, ad Amandum presbyterum de diuersis questionibus. Epistolaris responsio ad quem supra. [Incipit: “Propositio fuit…”] Hieronimus Pammachio de optimo genere interpretandi Pammachius et Oceanus Hieronimo Hieronimus Pammachio et Oceano

Incipit epistola Sci Hieronimi ad Heliodorum episcopum. Exhortatoria.

78v

73v 73v […de Origene] 77r

69v

69r

68r

64v

62r

55r [XXXII; omits “Incipit”]41 57v

355.115va

355.113ra

PL 30.288–92 (Ps.-Jerome) 69

355.102ra 57 [XXXVIII] 355.107vb [LX] 83 355.108rb 84

55.1–2, 4–5

53

58

52

14

355.101va (s.n.) 55.3

355.99va

355.94rb

355.90vb

355.84va

355.81ra42

42 Of the fourteen manuscripts collated in Hilberg’s edition, only Vat. lat. 355 and Vat. lat. 650 (tenth century) agree with Qu. Cod. 74 in identifying Heliodorus as a bishop here.

41 Numbering of items in Latin 1871 is off by one from this point, having incorporated neither the treatise on virginity nor the Disputatio de ratione animae.

117r

95v

37

43

91r

36

104r

84r

35

40

79v

34 52 Helene Scheck

131v

140r

143v 144r

151r

48

49

50 51

53

LII

LI

XLVIIII L

XLVIII

XLVII

XLVI

XLV

XLIIII

Incipit epistola Sci Hieronimi de tribus uirtutibus

276r

266v

260r [Item ipsius ad Marcum presbiterum Calcide] 261r

259r

258r

Epistola Sci Hieronimi ad Exuperantium 270r Hieronimi ad Rusticium exortatoria 270v super penitentem ad Desiderium 275r

Hieronimus ad Auitum ubi ea que in libris Periarcon aduersus fidem chatholicam fidem sunt pandit Incipit definitio fidei simbolique Niceni concilii

Hieronimus ad Euangelium qualiter presbiter et diaconus differant Item ad Evangelium presbiterum de Melchisedech Epistola Sci Hieronimi ad Marcum presbyterum Calcide

–

–

95r 95r43

92v

87v

87r

84v

83v

355.141rb

355.140vb

355.135vb 355.136rb

355.132rb

355.128vb

355.128ra

355.125va

355.121va

Ps.-Jerome. De tribus virtutibus (PL 30, 116D–22A)

47

PL 30:176C–182C (Ps-Jerome. Explanatio fidei ad Cyrillum) 145 122

124

17

73

146

Jerome of Strido at Chelles

43 Six folios are missing at this point, accounting for the loss of the end of letter 122, all of letter 47 and De tribus uirtutibus, and the first two chapters of letter 129, to Dardanus on the Promised Land.

150r

130v

47

52

127v

46

126v

45

53

196r

198v

200v

201r

62

63

64

65

186v 193v

60 61

184v

182v

58

59

167r

56

169v

160r

55

57

155r

54

LXIIII

LXIII

LXII

LXI

LVIIII LX

LVIII

LVII

LVI

LV

LIIII

LIII

279v

ad eundem

Epistola Sci Hieronimi ad Lucinum Beticum Epistola Sci Hieronimi contra Helvidium de uirginitate Scae Mariae Epistola Beati Hieronimi aduersus Uigilantium ubi eius arguit blasphemias Epistola Sci Hieronimi ad Riparium presbiterum contra Uigilantium Item Sci Hieronimi aduersus Uigilantium Hieronimus ad Magnum oratorem urbis Romae Epistola Sci Hieronimi ad Rufinum presbiterum Romae de iudicio Salomonis in sectione paruuli Epistola Sci Hieronimi ad Uitalem presbiterum de Salomone et Achaz Hieronimus ad Florentinum de ortu amicitiae 313v

313v

312r

310v

303v 308v

302v

300v

292r

289r

Incipit epistola Epiphanii Cypri missa ad 283v Iohannem a Sco Hieronimo translata

Incipit ad Dardanum de terra repromissionis

118r–119.16; 120.1–8 120r [numbering matches Q74 again] 120r

111r 115v [om: “Hieronimus”] 116v

110r

109r/119v

102r

355.180vb

355.180rb [hortu]

355.178va

355.168rb 355.174vb [no title] 355.176vb [Ruphinum]

355.167ra

355.165rb

355.155va

355.144va [acephalous: 96r, inc. “… exemplum est.” (129.3)] 97r [insertion 355.148rb after Iohannem: “de Origene”] 100v 355.153va

5

4

72

74

PL 23, 339–52 70

109

61

PL 23, 183–206

71

51

129 54 Helene Scheck

209v

210v

70

71

220v

74

LXXV

LXXIIII

LXXIII

LXXII

s.n.

LXX

LXVIIII

LXVII LXVIII

LXVI

LXV

Hieronimus ad Chrisocomam monachum Aquileiae Hieronimus ad Antonium monachum

ad Castricianum ut de cecitate qua ei contigit non debeat contristari ad Sabianum diaconum lapsum Hieronimus ad Iulianum diaconum Aquilegiae Hieronimus ad Niceam yppodiaconum Aquilege Hieronimi presbiteri ad Laurentium diaconum Epistola Sci Hieronimi ad Rusticum monachum Hieronimus ad Paulum senem monachum concordiae Hieronimus ad Chromatium Iouinianum et Eusebium

Hieronimus ad Abigaum Spanum

8r

8r

7r

6r

1r [LXXI]

321v45

321v44

315v 321r

315r

314v

356.13rb

356.6va [LXX]

356.6rb [Aquileiae] –47

Vat.lat.356.1r 356.5vb

355.182ra

355.181rb

10

125

Title only

8

147 6

68

76

356.14ra 7 130v [Cromachium; Iouianum] 131v 356.15rb 9 [Crissocomam] 132r 356.15va [omits 12 “monachum”]

130r

125v [LXX]

121v 125r [Aquileiae] 125r [Aquileiae] –46

120v [add: de cecitatis pacientia] 121r

Jerome of Strido at Chelles

47 Vat. lat. 355/356 neither lists this item in its capitula nor includes it in the main text. Numbering is off by one until the scribe simply brings it into line with Qu. Cod. 74 numbering at item LXXX.

46 Capitula lists “ad Laurentium” for item LXX, though there is no corresponding entry in the volume itself. The numbering is off by one once again, from here on.

45 This item falls, perhaps appropriately, at the end of the existing manuscript. The next letter appears on fol. 1r.

44 Aquileiae, possibly corrected from Aguilegae.

221r

219r

73

75

218r

72

210r

204r 209v

202v

67

68 69

202r

66

55

273v

285v

86

87

s.n.

Epistula Sci Hieronimi ad Aletam de institutione filiae

ad Theodosium et ceteros anachoritas intrinsecus commorantes LXXVII Hieronimus ad Mineruium et Alexandrum monachus de resurrectione carnis LXXVIII Hieronimus Cypriano presbitero de Psalmum LXXXVIIII LXXVIIII Hieronimi presbiteri apologiticum ad Pammachium LXXX Item Hieronimus ad Pammachium LXXXI Hieronimus ad Pammachium et Marcellam LXXXII Hieronimus ad Domnionem LXXXIII Epistola Sci Hieronimi ad Eusthochium filiam Scae Paule de uirginitate seruanda LXXXI(III) Hieronimus ad Asellam de fictis amicitiis qui sibi detrahebant LXXXV Epistola Hieronimi ad uirgines Haemonenses LXXXVI Item ad Demetriadem48

LXXVI

58v, s.n.

49r [LXXXVII]49

48v

47r

30v 33r

28v 29v

17r

15v

9r

8v

148v [ad Demetriadem; LXXXV] 156r

148v

147v

144r 145v

138r [acephalous] 142v 143r

356.68ra [LXXXVIII]

356.58rb [LXXXVII]

356.57vb

356.56rb

356.37vb 356.40ra

356.35vb 356.36vb

356.25rb

356.16rb

356.16ra

[missing folios] 356.24ra

132v

132r

107

130

11

45

50 22

48 97

49

140

119

2

49 The possibility that another letter to Demetriada was included before this one in the tradition of this compilation is even more apparent in Latin 1869, as Item LXXXV ends at the bottom of fol. 48v and this letter begins at the top of 49r as item LXXXVII. In addition, the running header, like the one mostly erased or trimmed from Qu. Cod. 74, identifies this as letter II to Demetrias.

48 This was originally item LXXXVII, as in Latin 1869, but the last stroke was erased. It is also introduced as a second letter, though “Item” is partially erased in Qu. Cod. 74.

273v

85

271v

84

250r 253r

247v 248v

80 81

82 83

232r

78

233v

222r

77

79

221v

76 56 Helene Scheck

305v

312r

92

317v

324r

341r

362r

363v 364v

93

94

95

96

97 98

XCVIII XCVIIII

XCVII

XCVI

XCV

XCIIII

XCIII

XCII

XCI

LXXX[V] IIII XC

Hieronimus ad Fabiolam de ueste sacerdotali Hieronimus ad matrem et filiam in Galeis commanentibus Item Hieronimi epistula ad Castorinam materteram Hieronimus ad Furiam de uiduitate seruanda Incipit ad Saluinam consolatoria de Nebridio et uiduitate seruanda Hieronimus ad Aggeruciam de monogamia Incipiunt ad Nedibiam (sic) questiones Sci Hieronimi presbiteri numero duodecim Incipiunt capitula questionum ad Algasiam…ad Algasiam questionum ΜΜΙΚΙωΝ…Incipiunt Questiones Sci Hieronimi ad Algasiam Incipit ad Marcellam de quinque questionibus Noui Testamenti uel de his qui domino occursuri sunt Hieronimus Item ad Marcellam Hieronimus de Onaso Hieronimus Marcelle de Hebrí�cis nominibus et uerbis 118r 118v

116r-v

101r

89r [Hedibiam]

82v

78v

73v

73r

203v 204r

202v

189v [omits: ΜΜΙΚΙωΝ]

174r [Agheruchia] 179r [Nebidiam]51

170v

167r

167r

63r, LXXXVIIII 159r50 [LXXXVII] 70r 164r [Galliis]

356.135ra 356.135va

356.133va

356.116ra-va

356.102rb [Hedibiam]

356.95ra

356.91ra

356.84va

356.84rb

356.73ra LXX(X)VIIII 356.80rb

40 26

59

121

120

123

79

54

13

117

64

51 The discrepancy may just be a confusion of letter forms b/d, since “Hedebiam” is given at the end of the letter (fol. 189v).

Jerome of Strido at Chelles

50 The number differential in Latin 1871 returns to two now as the scribe of Qu. Cod. 74 readjusted with item LXXXVIIII; the others are back in sync as well.

306r

91

301v

90

89

292r

88

57

CIII

CIIII CV [s.n.]

CVI

CVIII CVIIII CX CXI

102 368r,52 369r 103 369r 104 369v 105 370v

106 371r

108 109 110 111

CXII

CVII

Incipit ad Heliodorum episcopum aepithaphium Nepotiani presbiteri

Hieronimus ad Marcellam de X nominibus quibus apud Hebraeos Deus uocatur Item ad Marcellam de fide nostra et dogmata heretica Item ad Marcellam de blasphemia in spiritum sanctam inremissibile Hieronimus ad Marcellam de detractoribus suis Hieronimus ad Marcellam de muneribus Item ad Marcellam de urbe secedendum [added on to previous letter] “Uerum ut ad uillam…amatoriae cantiones. Uale. Explicit de urbe secedendum.” Item ad Marcellam ne contristetur de egrotatione Blesille Item epistula Sci Hieronimi ad Marcellam Item ad Marcellam Item ad Marcellam Hieronimus ad Marcellam Hieronimus Marcellae de diapsalma 131r

126v 128r 128r 129v

124r

123r

122r 122r 122v

121r

120v

119v

119r

214r

210v 211v 211v 213r

208v

207v

206v 207r 207v

206r

205v

205r

204v

34 32 30 28

29

38

44 43 46.11–12

27

42

41

25

60 356.148ra [… de epithaphium Nepotiani episcopi]

356.144ra 356.145va 356.145vb 356.147ra

356.141rb

356.140rb

356.139ra 356.139rb 356.139vb

356.138rb

356.137va

356.136va

356.136rb

52 Folio 368v was originally left blank for some reason; a tenth- or eleventh-century hand supplied about half of the text missing from letter 121, to Algasia in response to her questions (ep. 121, 2.9–2.13) due to a lost folio between 344 and 345. The rest of the letter appears on fols. 341r–362r. Text of letter 27 resumes on fol. 369r.

112 380v

375r 377r 377v 379r

107 372r

CII

CI

100 365v

101 367r

C

365r

99 58 Helene Scheck

CXVI

[CXVIIII]

Consolatoria ad Tyrasium de morte filiae suae, Hieronimus Hieronimus ad Iulianum exortatoria et de pignoribus consultum Consolatoria Hieronimum ad Paulam de dormitione Blesillae Epithaphium Scae Paule a Sco Hieronimo editum Hieronimus ad Teodoram Spanam de morte Lucini Hieronimus ad Oceanum de morte Fabiolae53 [P1: Ad Marcellam de exitu Leae, Hieronimus.] [P1: Item ad Marcellam. Hieronimus de uita (V: et obitu) Asellae] [P1: Hieronimus ad Innocentium de septies percussa] [P1: Ad Principiam uirginem de uita Scae Marcellae] [P1: Incipit ad Pammachium de morte Paulinae] 172v, CXXIII

168v

166v

165v

164v

160v

159r

145r

141r

138r

136v

246v, CXXI

243v

242r

241v

241r

238r

236v

225v

222v

220r

218v

54 A fifteenth-century hand assigns numeral CXXIII to this final letter.

1

356.184ra [add: 127 Hieronimus] 356.187va54 66

356.182ra

356.180va 23 [adds: “Incipit”] 356.181rb 24

356.176va

77

39

PL 30, 276–78 (Ps-Hier) 118

356.162va 108 [adds: Incipit…] 356.175rb 75

356.158va

356.155va

356.153vb

Jerome of Strido at Chelles

53 All but the first ten lines of this letter and all subsequent letters in the compilation have been lost from Qu. Cod. 74.

[CXXIII]

123

[CXXII]

122

[CXXI]

121

[CXX]

120

CXVII[I]

119

118 417v

CXVII

117 415v

CXV

116 399r

115 394r

CXIIII

CXIII

114 390v

113 388r

59

60

Helene Scheck

Appendix B: Comparison of stylistic features in Halle, ULB, Quedlinburg Codex 74 and Paris, BnF, Latin 1869 1. Item XXV (ep. 131), Epistola Beati Agustini ad Scm Hieronimum de origine animae

a., b. Qu. Cod. 74, fols. 49v (top) and 50r

c. BnF, Latin 1869, fol. 202v



Jerome of Strido at Chelles

61

2. Item LXXXIII (ep. 22), Epistola Sancti Hieronimi ad Eustochium filiam Santae Paule, de uirginitate seruanda

a. Qu. Cod. 74, fol. 253r

b. BnF, Latin 1869, fol. 33r

3. Item CXII (ep. 60), Incipit ad Heliodorum episcopum aepithaphium Nepotiani presbiteri

a. Qu. Cod. 74, fol. 380v

b. BnF, Latin 1869, fol. 131r

62

Helene Scheck

Appendix C: Comparison of select marginal markers in Halle, ULB, Quedlinburg Codex 74 and Paris, BnF, Latin 1869 1. Not[a]: Orosius

a. Qu. Cod. 74, fol. 50r

b. BnF, Latin 1869, fol. 202v (my photo, permission of BnF)

a. Qu. Cod. 74, fol. 309r

b. BnF, Latin 1869, fol. 76r

a. Qu. Cod. 74, fol. 309r

b. BnF, Latin 1869, fol. 7

2. Scribal note: /terrentius

3. Not[a]: Danihel & III pueri



4. Scribal gloss: nom[en] hominis

a. Qu. Cod. 74, fol. 29r

5. Not[a]: Quid sit domesticus fidei

a. Qu. Cod. 74, fol. 325r

Jerome of Strido at Chelles

b. BnF, Latin 1869, fol. 186r

b. BnF, Latin 1869, fol. 89v

6. Not[a]: IIII Mariae

a. Qu. Cod. 74, fol. 328r

b. BnF, Latin 1869, fol. 92r

63

64

Helene Scheck

7. Not[a]: Hic agustinum laudat

a. Qu. Cod. 74, fol. 49r

8. Require mark

a. Qu. Cod. 74, 28r

b. BnF, Latin 1869, fol. 202 (my photo, permission of BnF)

b. BnF, Latin 1869, fol. 184v



Jerome of Strido at Chelles

65

9. Gloss (esaiam, hieremiam, ezechihel, danihel) and compound sign (chresimon, nota, anchora)

a. Qu. Cod. 74, fol. 99v

b. BnF, Latin 1869, fol. 238v

66

Helene Scheck

Appendix D: Collation of Select Passages Ep. 36, c. 15-end (CSEL 54.281–85)

Q (fol. 1r) Damasus de Isaac. IIII. Cur Isaac uir iustus et deo carus non illi cui uoluit sed cui noluit deceptus errore benedixit? Hieron[ymus]. Differo paulisper… (fol. 2v) Quia cum sub intrauerit plenitudo gentium tunc omnis Israhel saluus erit. P1 – P2 (fol. 5v) IIII. Item. Hieronimus ad Damasum de ignorantia Isaac in benedicendis filiis. Cyr Isaac uir iustus et deo carus non illi cui uoluit sed cui noluit deceptus errore benedixit? Differo paulisper…(fol. 6v) Quia cum sub intrauerit plenitudo gentium tunc omnis Israhel saluus erit. V (355, fol. 5rb) Damasus de Isaac. IIII. Cur Isaac uir iustus et deo carus non illi cui uoluit sed cui noluit deceptus errore benedixit? Hieronimus. Differo paulisper… (6va) Quia cum sub intrauerit plenitudo gentium tunc omnis Israhel saluus erit. Finit. CSEL 54.281.4: Cur Isaac, uir iustus et deo carus, non illi, cui uolut, sed, cui noluit, deceptus errore benedixit? Differo paulisper… Ep. 102, caps. 1–2 (CSEL 55.237–38)55

Q (fol. 26v) Rescribtum Beati Hieronimi ad Agustinum. II.  XV Domino uere sco et beatissimo papae Agustino, Hieronimus in domino salutem. In ipso profectionis articulo…ut ΤΙΑ ΑΙΝΑΙΑ ΙΑΜ…et epiciremata tua… (fol. 27r) Tristes haec dictauimus utinam mereremur conplexus tuos et conlatione mutua uel doceremus aliqua uel disceremus. EPLT. P1 (fol. 183v) Rescribtum Beati Hieronimi ad Agustinum. II.  XV Domino uere sco et beatissimo papae Agustino, Hieronimus in domino salutem. In ipso [scr. corr: pro]fectionis articulo…ut ΤΙΑ ΑΙΝΑΙΑ ΙΑΜ…et epiciremata tua… (fol. 184r) Tristes haec dictauimus utinam mereremur conplexus tuos et conlatione mutua uel doceremus aliqua uel disceremus. explicit. P2 (fol. 28v) Rescriptum Beati Hieronimi ad Agustinum.  XV Domino uere sco et beatissimo papae Agustino, Hieronimus in domino salutem. In ipso profectionis articulo…ut ΤΙΛ ΑUΝΛΙΛΙΛΜ56 et epi[corr: gra]mata tua… (fol. 29r) Tristes haec dictauimus utinam mereremur complexus tuos et conlatione mutua uel doceremus aliqua uel disceremus. Explicit. V (355, fol. 40ra) Rescriptum Beati Hieronimi ad gustinum.  XV Domino uere sco et beatissimo papae Augustino, Hieronimus in domino salutem. In ipso profectionis articulo…ut ΤΙΑΑΙΝΑΙΑΙΑΜ…et epiciremata tua… (fol. 40va) 55 Qu. Cod. 74 shares a source with its contemporaries, Escorial & I.14 (late eighth century) and Köln, Dombibliothek, Cod. 35 (Salzburg, ca. 800), which also omit chapter three.

56 This seems to be Roman script rather than Greek: the characters that look like lambda are more plausibly rustic capital A, and therefore accord with Qu. Cod. 74.



Jerome of Strido at Chelles

67

Tristes hec dictauimus utinam mereremur conplexus tuos et collatione mutua uel doceremus aliqua uel disceremus. EXPT. CSEL 55.234: Ad Augustinum. Domino uere sancto et beatissimo papae Augustino Hieronymus in domino salutem. In ipso profectionis articulo… (235.4) ut παλινωδιαν… (235.8) et επιζειρεματα tua…(236.11–12) tristes haec dictauimus utinam mereremur conplexus tuos et conlatione mutua uel doceremus aliqua uel disceremus!…[(c. 3: 236.13–22) Misit mihi termeritate…frater Communis suppliciter te salutat.]

Ep. 110, c. 3-end (CSEL 55.356, 358–66)57

Q (fol. 27v) Epistola Sci Agustini ad Scm Hieronimum. XVIII. Cur itaque conor contra tractum fluminis et non potius ueniam deprecor? P1 (fol. 184v) Epistola Sci Agustini ad Scm Hieronimum. XVIII. Cur itaque conor con[tra]58 tractum fluminis et non potius ueniam deprecor? P2 (fol. 29v) Epistola Sci Agustini ad Scm Hieronimum. XVIII. Cur itaque conor contra tractum fluminis et non potius ueniam deprecor? V (355, fol. 41ra) Epistola Sci Agustini ad Scm Hieronimum. XVIII. Cur itaque conor contra tractum fluminis et non potius ueniam deprecor? CSEL 55.356: Epistula Augustini ad Hieronymum. [Domino uenerando et desiderantissimo fratri et conpresbytero Hieronymo Augustinus in domino salutem…] (358) Cur itaque conor contra fluminis tractum ac non potius ueniam peto?

Ep. 55, caps. 1–2 and 4–5 (CSEL 54.486–89; 492–95)

Q (fol. 101r) Incipit epistola Sci Hieronimi presbyteri ad Amandum presbyterum de diuersis questionibus. XXXVII. Breuis epistola longas explanare non ualet quaestiones… (103r) Cum crudelitate clementi non parcit ut medicus parcat, seuit ut misereatur. P1 (fol. 239v) Incipit epistola Sci Hieronimi presbyteri ad Amandum presbyterum de diuersis questionibus. XXXVII. Breuis epistola longas explanare non ualet questiones… (fol. 241r) Cum crudelitate clementi non parcit ut medicus parcat, seuit ut misereatur. P2 (fol. 68r) Incipit epistola Sci Hieronimi presbyteri ad Amandum presbyterum de diuersis questionibus. XXXVI. Breuis epistola longas explanare non ualet questiones… (fol. 69r)Cum crudelitate celementi non parcit ut medicus parcat, seuit ut misereatur. V (355, fol. 99va) Incipit epistola Sci Hieronimi presbyteri ad Amandum presbyterum de diuersis questionibus. XXXVII.

57 Here again Qu. Cod. 74 seems to share a source with its contemporaries, Escorial & I.14 (late eighth century) and Köln, Dombibliothek, Cod. 35 (Salzburg, ca. 800): the letter begins with chapter 3; they also agree in phrasing, including transposition of words, and omission of phrases and even several lines at the end of chapter three and beginning of chapter four. 58 Scribal hand inserts “tra” before “tractum.”

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Breuis epistola longas explanare non ualet questiones… (fol. 101va) Cum crudelitate elementi non parcit, ut medicus parcat, seuit ut misereatur. CSEL 54.486: Ad Amandum presbyterum. Breuis epistola longas explanare non ualet quaestiones…(495) Cum crudelitate clementi non parcit medicus, ut parcat, saeuit, ut misereatur.

Ep. 55, cap. 3 (CSEL 54.490–91)

Q (fol. 103r) Epistolaris responsio ad quem supra. XXXVII. Propositio fuit de eadem apostoli epistola, ubi de resurrectione disputans, uenit ad eum locum, ubi scriptum est… P1 (fol. 241r-v) Epistolaris responsio ad quem supra. XXXVII. Propositio fuit de eadem apostoli epistola, ubi de resurrectione disputans, uenit ad eum locum ubi scriptum est… P2 (fol. 69r) Epistolaris responsio at quem supra. XXXVI. Propositio fuit de eadem apostoli ep[isto]la ubi de resurrectione disputans uenit ad eum locum ubi scriptum est… V (355, fol. 101va) Epistolaris responsio ad quem supra. [s.n.] Propositio fuit de eadem apostoli epistola, ubi de resurrectione disputans, uenit ad eum locum, ubi scriptum est… CSEL 54.490: Tertia, id est extrema, propositio fuit de eadem apostoli epistula, ubi de resurrectione disputans uenit ad eum locum, ubi scriptum est… Epistle 130 (CSEL 56.175–201)

Q (fol. 273v) Item [partially erased] ad Demetriadem. LXXXVI[I (erased)]. (274r) Inter omnes materias quas ab aduliscentia usque ad hanc aetatem / uel mea uel notariorum scripsi manu, nihil presenti opere dif[-] / ficilius. Scripturus enim ad demedriadem uirginem xpi, quae et nubilitate et diuitiis prima est in urbe romano (corr.: a)… (fol. 285v) aviae tuae tibi semper ac matris in ore dulcedo uer[-] /setur quarum imitatio forma uirtutis est. Explicit ad dimidriadem, II. Running header: ad dimidriadem (fols. 274v, 275v, 277v, 278v, 279v, 280v, 281v, 282v, 283v); [II (erased)] (fols. 275r, 276r, 279r, 280r, 282r, 283r, 284r); uirginem.[II]. (fol. 278r) P1 (fol. 49r) Item ad Demetriadem. LXXXVII. Inter omnes materias quas ab aduliscentia usque ad hanc aetatem uel / mea uel notariorum scripsi manu, nihil praesenti opere diff[-] / icilius. Scripturus enim ad demedriadem uirginem xpi, quae et nobilitate et diuitiis prima est in orbe romano… (fol. 58v) avia&uae [=aviae tuae] tibi semper ac matris / in ore dulcedo uer[-] /setur quarum imitatio forma / uirtutis est. EXPL ad dimidriadem. Running header: ad dimidriadem (fols. 49v, 50v, 51v, 53v, 54v, 55v, 56v, 57v); .II. (fols. 50r, 51r, 54r, 55r, 56r, 58r); uirginem . II. (fol. 52r); uirg . II. (fol. 52v) P2 (fol. 148v) Ad Demetriadem. LXXXV. Inter omnes materias quas ab adoliscentia usque ad hanc &tatem uel mea uel notari[-]/ orum scripsi manu, nihil presenti opere difficilius. Scripturus enim ad



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demedriadem / uirginem xpi, quae et nobilitate et diuitiis prima est in urbe romano (corr.: a)… (fol. 156r) aviae / tuae tibi semper ac matris in ore dulcedo uersetur, quarum imitatio forma uirtutis est. / Explic[it] ad dimidriadem. No running headers visible. V (356, fol. 58rb) Item ad Demetriadem. [LXXXVII. (later hand)] Inter omnes materias quas ab adu[-] / lescentia usque ad hanc aetatem / uel mea uel notariorum scripsi / manu, nihil presenti opere / difficilius. scripturus enim ad de[-] / medriadem uirginem xpi que et / nobilitate et diuitiis prima est, in orbae romano… (fol. 68ra) aviae / tuae tibi semper a[c] matris / in ore dulcedo uersetur, quarum / imitatio forma uirtutis est. [no explicit] No contemporary running headers. CSEL 56.175: Ad Demetriadem. (c. 1) Inter omnes materias, quas ab adulescentia usque ad hanc aetatem uel mea uel notariorum scripsi manu, nihil praesenti opere difficilius. scripturus enim ad Demetriadem, uirginem Christi, quae (176) et nobilitate et diuitiis prima est in orbe Romano… (201) auiae tuae tibi semper ac matris in ore dulcedo uersetur, quarum imitatio forma uirtutis est. Epistle 107 (CSEL 55.290–305)

Q (285v) Epistola Sci Hieronimi ad Aletam de institutione filiae. (s.n.) Apostolos paulus scribens ad Corinthios & rudem XPI ecclesiam sacris instruens disciplinis, inter cetera mandata hoc quoque posuit dicens: Si qua mulier habens uirum infidelem et hic consentet habitare cum ea, non dimittat uirum suum, sanctificatus est enim uir infidelis per mulierem fidelem, et sanctificata est mulier infideles in uiro fideli. [ends 292r, no visible Explicit] P1 (58v) Epistola Sci Hieronimi ad Aletam de institutione filiae. (s.n.) Apostolos paulus scribens ad Corinthios & rudem XPI ecclesiam sacris instruens disciplinis, inter cetera mandata hoc quoque posuit dicens: Si qua mulier habens uirum infidelem et hic consentit habitare cum ea, non dimittat uirum suum. Sanctificatus est enim uir infidelis per mulierem fidelem, et sanctificata est mulier infidelis in uiro fideli…(63r) EXPL ad Aletam. P2 (156r) Epistola Sci Hieronimi ad Aletam de institutione filiae. LXXXVI. Apostolos paulus scribens ad Corinthios & rudem XPI ecclesiam sacris instruens disciplinis, inter cetera mandata hoc quoque posuit dicens: Si qua mulier habens uirum infidelem et hic consentit habitare cum ea, non dimitt[i?]t uirum suum. Sanctificatus est enim uir infidelis per mulierem fidelem, et sanctificata est mulier infidelis in uiro fideli. [ends 159r, no Explicit] V (356.68ra) Epistola Sci Hieronimi ad Aletam de institutione filiae. LXXXVI. Apostolos paulus scribens ad Corinthios & rudem XPI ecclesiam sacris instruens disciplinis, inter cetera mandata hoc quoque posuit dicens: Si qua mulier habens uirum infidelem et hic consentit habitare cum ea, non dimittat uirum suum. Sanctificatus est enim uir infidelis per mulierem fidelem, et sanctificata est mulier infidelis in uiro fideli… (356.73ra) Explicit ad Leta. CSEL 55.290: Ad Laetam de institutione filiae. Beatus apostolos paulus scribens ad Corinthios & rudem XPI ecclesiam sacris instruens disciplinis, inter cetera mandata hoc

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quoque posuit dicens: Si qua mulier habet uirum infidelem et hic consentit habitare cum ea, ne dimittat uirum suum. Sanctificatus est enim uir infidelis in uxore fideli, et sanctificata est mulier infidelis in fratre. Epistle 26 (CSEL 54.220–23)

Q (364v) Hieronimus Marcelle de hebraeicis nominibus et uerbis. XCVIIII. Nuper cum pariter essemus non per epistulam ut ante consue[-] / ueras, sed praesens ipsa quaesisti quid hea uerba que ex [corr: e]braeo / in latinum non habemus, expraessa apud suos sonarent, cum sine interpraetatione sint posita ut est illud, ALLELUIA, AMEN, MARTHANA, EPHOD, et cetera quae in scripturis respersa memorasti…licet et illud in libris suis, quos ζΗΤΗTIKOC59 uocant… (365r) “Igitur ALLELUIA exprimitur, laudate dominum, IA. Quippe apud hebraeos unum de decim nominibus est…Apud hebraeos legitur alleluia, CIK ΠOB eZaMMeR. AMEN uero aquila ΠEΠICTOMENOC exprimit, quod nos fideliter possumus dicere ductum aduerbium, ex nomine fidei, AMYNA, septuaginta SENOITO, id est fiat…MARANATHA magis syrum est quam hebraeum… P1 (118v) Hieronimus Marcellae de hebraicis nominibus et uerbis. XCVIIII. Nuper cum pariter essemus non per epistolam ut ante consueue[-] / ras, sed praesens ipsa quaesisti, quid ea uerba quae ex haebreo in / latinum non habemus, expressa, apud suos sonarent, cum sine / interpretatione sint posita ut est illud, ALLELUIA, AMEN, MARTHANA, EPHOT, et cetera quae in scripturis respersa memorasti…licet et illud in libris suis, quos ζΗTHTIKOC60 uocant…Igitur ALLELUIA exprimitur, laudate dominum, IA. quippe, apud hebraeos, unum de decem nominibus est…(119r) Apud hebraeos legitur alleluia, CIK NOB eZaMMeR. Amen uero aquila ΠEΠICTOMENOC exprimit, quod nos fideliter possumus dicere ductum aduerbium, ex nomine fidei : AMHN[_],61 septuaginta ΓENOITO,62 id est fiat…MARANATHA, magis syrum est quam hebraeum… P2 (204r) Hieronimus Marcellae de hebrae[-] / icis nominibus et uerbis. XCVII. Nuper cum pariter essemus non per epistolam ut ante consueueras, sed presens / ipsa quaesisti quid ea uerba quae ex hebreo in latinum non habemus, expressa / apostl suos sonarent, cum sine interpretatione sint posita ut est illud, ALLELUIA, /

59 In Qu. Cod. 74 (364v) and in Latin 1869 (118v), the first T character differs from the second, perhaps reflecting the scribe’s attempt to render gamma. Neither rendering indicates an initial vowel sound in any way. A scribe or reader of Latin 1869 inserts a transcription above, which also omits the initial vowel, but is otherwise not far from the Greek: “zegeticos.” 60 Scribe provides transcription above Greek word: zegeticos (Latin 1869, fol. 118v).

61 Latin 1869 has been “corrected,” with the third character overwritten by what is probably meant to be Greek Eta (H) and the final character erased. AM_N_ may have been AMYNA originally, matching Qu. Cod. 74, though it is impossible to tell. The corrector seems to have wanted to render “amen” in Greek characters. 62 Note that the Latin 1869 scribe recognizes or corrects to initial gamma.



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AMEN, MARTHANA,63 EPHOD, / Et cetera quae in scripturis respersa memorasti… licet et illud in libris suis quos ZHTHTIKOC64 uocant…Igitur ALLELUIA exprimitur, laudate dominum, IA. quippe apost hebre[-] / os unum de decem nominibus est…Apud hebreos legitur alleluia, CIKΠOB eZaMMeR. Amen uero / aquila ΠeΠICTOMeNOC exprimit, quod nos fideliter possumus dicere ductum aduerb[ium], ex nomine fidei, AMYNA, septuaginta SENOΠO, id est fiat…MARANATHA magis syrum est quam hebreum… V (356.135va) Hieronimus Marcelle de hebraeicis no[-] / minibus et uerbis. [s.n.] Nuper cum pariter essemus non / per ep[isto]lam ut ante consueueras, / sed p[re]sens ipsa quesisti quid ea uerba que ex / hebreo in latinum non / habemus, expressa apud suos sonarent, / (135vb) cum sine interpretatione sint posita ut est illud, ALLELUIA, / AMEN, MAR[-] / THANA, EPHOD, / Et cetera que in script[-] / uris respersa memorasti…licet et illud in libris suis quos ZHΓHTIKOC / uocant…Igitur alleluia exprimitur, lau[-] / date dominum, IA. quippe apud hebrae[-] / os unum de decim nominibus est…Apud hebraeos legitur alleluia, CIKΠOB / eZaMMeR. Amen uero aquila, / ΠeΠICTOMeNOC exprimit, quod nos / fideliter possumus dicere ductum / aduerb[ium], ex nomine fidei, AMYNA, (136ra) septuaginta ΓENOITO, id est fiat…MARANATHA, ma[-] / gis syrum est quam hebreum… CSEL 54.220: Ad Marcellam. (c. 1) Nuper, cum pariter essemus, non per epistulam, ut ante consueueras, sed praesens ipsa quaesisti, quid ea uerba. quae (221) ex Hebraeo in Latinum non habemus expraessa, apud suos sonarent curque sine interpretatione sint posita, ut est illud: alleluia, amen, maran atha, ephod et cetera, quae in scripturis conspersa memorasti. (c. 2.)… licet et illud in libris suis, quos ἐ� 𝜂𝜂𝛾𝜂𝜏𝜄𝜘𝜊𝜐𝜎 uocat…(c. 3.) Igitur alleluia exprimitur “laudate dominum”; ia quippe apud hebraeos unum de decim dei nominibus est…(222)…apud hebraeos legitur: “alleluia chi tob zammer.” (c. 4.) Amen uero Aquila πεπιστωμένως exprimit, quod nos “fideliter” possumus dicere, ductum aduerbium ex nomine fidei amuna, Septuaginta γέ� νοιτο, id est “fiat.”…maran atha magis Syrum est quam Hebraeum….

63 “Marthana” has been corrected by first erasing medial “th” and tacking on “THA” to the end to produce MAR ANATHA.” There was ample room for the addition, since the scribe of Latin 1871 devoted the full line to these names and spaced them out accordingly, which is striking, given the general economy of textual presentation. 64 A contemporary or perhaps the scribe transcribed the attempted Greek rendering as Latin “seteticos,” substituting Latin s for the unfamiliar z. The scribe transmits a “t” in place of gamma.

Chapter 4

REVISITING THE MAASEIK ZOOMORPHIC EMBROIDERIES* GALE R. OWEN-CROCKER1 EIGHT MEDIEVAL EMBROIDERIES in gold and silk were rediscovered in Belgium in 1867, attached to a composite textile known as the casula of Saints Harlindis and Relindis (Fig. 4.1). Animals appear on four of them: two strips of arcades and two of roundels.2 They are now in the treasury of the church of St. Catherine in Maaseik, having been transferred there in 1571 from a religious house at Aldeneik,3 founded in the early eighth century for two sisters, Harlindis and Relindis. At the time of its establishment it was within Carolingian Francia, a region which in the later ninth century became part of the county of Flanders. The area is now in the Belgian province of Limburg. Local tradition, going back at least to the Vita Sanctarum Harlindis et Relindis (composed 855–881), attributed the embroideries to the founding saints. However, in 1951 Marguerite Calberg recognized them as later than the founding of Aldeneik, suggesting, on stylistic grounds, that they were English work, dating to ca. 850.4 A detailed study in the 1980s by Mildred Budny and Dominic Tweddle endorsed the Englishness of the embroideries, while slightly adjusting their dating.5 Certainly later than the sister saints, * I am honoured to write this paper in memory of Paul Szarmach, a great and generous scholar. He was always interested in material culture and encouraging about the research on textiles carried out by my colleagues and myself. I am sure a re-examination of the Maaseik embroideries would have pleased him, though as he once told me a wild animal had completely destroyed his car, he would perhaps not have been so thrilled by the “leaping beasts” aspect of it. 1 Research on this topic was originally undertaken as part of a wider project, to be published as “Cloth Creatures: Animals on Textiles from England and Wales, Seventh to Eleventh Centuries,” in Animalia: Animal and Human Interaction in Daily Living in the Early Medieval English World, ed. Maren Clegg Hyer and Gale R. Owen-Crocker, Daily Living in the Anglo-Saxon World 5 (Liverpool: University Press, forthcoming 2024).

2 The other four embroideries are monograms, mounted on the four corners of the casula. The other textiles making up the composite casula are two early medieval woven silks, one late medieval “half-silk,” and two tablet-woven bands, with some modern cloths for lining and edging. 3 Now a suburb of Maaseik.

4 Marguerite Calberg, “Tissus et broderies attribué aux saintes Harlinde et Relinde,” Bulletin: Société Royale d’Archéologie de Bruxelles 48 (1951): 1–26.

5 Mildred Budny and Dominic Tweddle, “The Maaseik Embroideries,” Anglo-Saxon England 13 (1984): 65–96, and “The Early Medieval Textiles at Maaseik, Belgium,” The Antiquaries Journal 65 (1985): 353–89; Mildred Budny, The Anglo-Saxon Embroideries at Maaseik: Their Historical and Art-historical Context, Academiae Analecta, Academie voor Wetenschappen, Letteren en Schone Kunsten van België, Klasse der Schone Kunsten 45/2 (Brussels: AWLSK, 1984), 57–133; Elizabeth Coatsworth, “Stitches in Time: Establishing a History of Anglo-Saxon Embroidery,”

Figure 4.1: The casula of Saints Harlindis and Relindis, composite textile. Maaseik, Belgium, Church of St. Catherine. Image G002090 © KIK-IRPA, Brussels. Used with permission.

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they are probably late eighth- or early ninth-century, and perhaps arrived on the Continent as gifts to missionaries from Anglo-Saxon England. They might originally have been intended as ornaments of an altar cloth or cloths,6 or (my own suggestion) as apparels of ecclesiastical vestments. They may have been taken direct to Aldeneik, or transferred there when the cult of the founding saints and prestige of the establishment were increasing. It had been made a royal abbey by 870.7 Early in their existence, the embroideries were additionally ornamented with pearls on the arches and roundels. These were removed at some point between the seventeenth and nineteenth centuries, leaving some linen attachment thread, still visible in several places.8 None of the surviving zoomorphic embroideries is a complete piece. They have been cut down and re-used, probably on more than one occasion. Much of their gold thread has been deliberately removed or lost. As they were arranged on the composite casula on which they were rediscovered, their design was carelessly ignored or unrecognized: the arcades were both oriented the same way, the roundel strips in opposite directions. Studies of them have asserted that their frisky animal designs particularly resemble motifs in the so-called “Tiberius School” of manuscripts that flourished in the Mercian area (which included Canterbury) between the mid-eighth and mid-ninth centuries,9 as well as contemporary carvings in stone and whalebone and in metalwork, looking forward to the Trewhiddle Style metalwork of the mid- and later ninth century, with its lively beasts in frames of various shapes. As Leslie Webster explains, portable objects, including textiles in Byzantine style, were the inspiration behind new, exotic types and the presentation of animals in this art.10 The intertwining of beasts with foliage or interlace in early medieval English art probably derives from more realistic placing of animals in settings with trees, found in Roman mosaics and eastern Mediterranean metalwork, and on woven silks where pairs of animals often flank a stylized plant.11 What Leslie Webster describes as Anglo-Saxon animals’ “fondness for entwinements and oppositions of every kind, and their invasive habit,”12 was already a feature of insular Medieval Clothing and Textiles 1 (2005): 1–27, at 9, notes one dissenting voice, that of Leonie von Wilckens, who suggested they came from the Rhine–Meuse region, though under English influence; Leonie von Wilckens, Die Textilen Künste: von der Spätantike bis um 1500 (Munich: Beck, 1991), 173. 6 Leslie Webster, Anglo-Saxon Art (London: British Museum, 2012), 114.

7 Other Aldeneik/Maaseik relics dating from this time are the Codex Eykensis, an illuminated (composite) gospel book probably written in Echternach (now Luxemburg), a religious establishment founded by the Northumbrian missionary Willibrord; a metal reliquary; and a textile known as the velamen of St. Harlindis; Budny, Anglo-Saxon Embroideries, 127. 8 Budny, Anglo-Saxon Embroideries, 81.

9 Named from the Tiberius Bede, London, British Library, MS Cotton Tiberius C. ii. 10 Webster, Anglo-Saxon Art, 139.

11 Barry Ager, “The Carolingian Cup from the Vale of York Viking Hoard: Origins of its form and Decorative Features,” The Antiquaries Journal 100 (2020): 86–108, at 99–100. 12 Webster, Anglo-Saxon Art, 139.

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metalwork and manuscript art from the seventh and early eighth centuries, and indeed of embroidery, since the Kempston fragments, the earliest known Anglo-Saxon embroidery, demonstrate an example of that “entwinement,”13 a style formerly known as “Salin Style II,” now generally known as “Style II.” The serpentine quality of Style II animals is replaced in the “Tiberius” style by “quirky, playful animals that prance, bite and snap in initials and entwine in the columns of canon tables” in “a new range of stances and attitudes,” ultimately Byzantine.14 The Maaseik animals exhibit this kind of vitality in their leaping bodies, projecting wings, tails, and limbs. In depicting liveliness, naturalism is inevitably lost. Birds with fluttering wings and outstretched tails lose what birdwatchers call their “jizz”—the characteristic shape and posture that makes a bird identifiable as some specific species. Animals with distinctive characteristics, such as horns or manes, are (tentatively) recognizable, but most others become anonymous mammals or, with an unrealistic combination of features, fantasy creatures. Discussion of the Maaseik animal embroideries has generally treated them as if they were alike, but, in using the digital photographs now available online, I became aware of significant differences between the arcades and the roundels. Furthermore, although publications identified parallels with them in Anglo-Saxon (predominantly Mercian) and Anglo-Continental art, I could not find a full and systematic description of the embroideries. The following discussion will examine the embroideries’ materials, design, and technique, focusing on similarities to other surviving artworks and on similarities and differences between the embroideries themselves. A detailed description—as far as it is possible to describe images on embroideries which are damaged and degraded—is presented in an Appendix. Both sets of zoomorphic embroideries are executed on Z-spun, tabby-woven15 linen. Although the backing cloths are of similar texture, they are not from the same piece of material, since their thread counts are different: the arcades’ is 24 × 26 per centimetre (cm), the roundels’ 26 × 20 cm. They are embroidered in coloured silks (pink, blue, green, and yellow) and gold thread, made by spinning gold foil round a core of cattle tail hair.16 These embroidery materials appear to be similar, but I have not seen a technical report to confirm it.17 The gold, surface-couched, is used for primary ornament: the arcades and the division within them; the roundels; and the motifs on both sets. Couched gold was evidently used for all the motifs, not just the creatures and interlace arising from their bodies, and the framing arcades or roundels, but also for geometric patterns, scrolls, knotwork, and plant motifs. Since much of this gold is now missing, 13 Alexandra Lester-Makin, The Lost Art of the Anglo-Saxon World: The Sacred and Secular Power of Embroidery, Ancient Textiles Series, 35 (Oxford: Oxbow, 2019), 57–76, 162, plates 13 and 14 identify the design as entwined beasts. 14 Webster, Anglo-Saxon Art, 139.

15 That is, in plain weave, over one under one, the commonest weave for linen.

16 Budny and Tweddle, “The Maaseik Embroideries,” 76. The cattle hair core is unique.

17 I understand that there is an unpublished report on dyes in the archive of the Anglo-Saxon Laboratory in York that is currently unavailable.



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Figure 4.2: The Arcade strips, silk embroidery on linen, late eighth or early ninth century. Top: A, the shorter strip. Bottom: B, the longer strip. Image X085891 © KIK-IRPA, Brussels. Used with permission.

motifs must be deduced from the bare linen areas between the zones of coloured silk background that survive reasonably well. Outlines of arcades, and motifs inside and outside them, are made in a tacking or back stitch in an orange colour, probably faded red, which is also used for couching the gold. Outlines on the roundel strips are worked in stem stitch, in a lighter orange, which is also used for couching and is once, at the top of roundel strip A, used for background. All the background is worked in silks. The sewing materials are employed in a different way from the more famous Durham stole and maniple and their edging tabletwoven bands (dated 900–934), where couched gold is used for background and the coloured silks for the motifs. As Budny noted, there are some parallels to the Maaseik arrangement where gold is used for the motifs and silk for the background. These occur on lesser-known Anglo-Saxon embroideries: on one side of Durham “Maniple II” (perhaps a re-used girdle or pair of secular ribbon ornaments found with the other Durham embroideries), and on a fragment in Milan thought to originate from the same workshop as the Durham embroideries.18 However, in those cases the background is monochrome, while the Maaseik backgrounds are a polychrome mosaic. Unlike the linear, couched backgrounds of the Durham embroideries, which have a formal and regular appearance, the Maaseik backgrounds are sewn in colour-blocks of slightly inconsistent stem stitch19 aligned in a variety of directions, giving a lively, but rather undisciplined, effect. Close observation of enlarged photographs shows that the direction of 18 Budny, The Anglo-Saxon Embroideries, 71.

19 Budny and Tweddle identify it as a mixture of split stitch and stem stitch, “The Early Medieval Textiles,” 361; also Helen M. Stevens, “Maaseik Reconstructed: A Practical Investigation and Interpretation of Eighth-century Embroidery Techniques,” Textiles in Northern Archaeology, NESAT III: Textile Symposium in York May 6–9, 1987, ed. Penelope Walton and John-Peter Wild (London: Archetype, 1990), 57–60, at 57; Alexandra Lester-Makin, from examination and microscopic

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the blocks of stitching was not random; rather, the embroiderers chose their direction by following the outline of an adjacent motif. It is sometimes possible to see where the embroiderer began a new colour, since the thread got thinner as sewing progressed, the result of the twisting and tightening of the silk that took place in the course of stem stitching.

The Arcade Strips A and B

Arcade strip A measures 630 millimetres (mm) × 95 mm (24.8 × 3.7 inches), now with nine arches; and arcade strip B, 660 mm × 100 mm (25.9 × 3.9 inches), with nine and a half arches. Both are incomplete. Arcading is a feature of Ancient Greek and Roman architecture, not of Anglo-Saxon, only appearing on Anglo-Saxon buildings as decorative pilaster strip work in the tenth century, and surviving as an addition to the earlier chapel built by Aldhelm at Bradford-on-Avon, Wiltshire, and on church towers at Earl’s Barton, Northamptonshire, and Barton-on-Humber, Lincolnshire.20 However arcades had appeared as an ornamental framing device in Insular artworks much earlier than this, being most frequently found in the Eusebian canon tables, a form of concordance, which precede the four gospels. The tradition of framing the canon tables in arcades, an established device of Late Antique book art, may go back to the fourth-century theologian and bishop Eusebius himself.21 Their earliest appearance in Insular manuscripts is in the Lindisfarne Gospels (ca. 700), where zoomorphic interlace, geometric interlace, and step or fret patterns occupy the main arch and the columns.22 The pillars and arches of the eighth-century Barberini Gospels, fol. 1r, contain geometric patterns and zoomorphic interlace, its other canon table pages being incomplete.23 The ninth-century Royal Bible, fols. 4r–6r, has geometric ornament and Trewhiddle Style animals in the outer frames of its canon tables.24 These last two are in the so-called “Tiberius” group of manuscripts, the animals of which have been compared to the Maaseik creatures. An incomplete set of canon tables, similarly decorated with pattern in the columns and main arch, is found in the first codex of the composite Codex Eykensis, contemporary and photographs, is convinced the work is sewn in stem stitch, worked to and fro or up and down, making a chevron pattern (personal communication, February 11, 2021).

20 H. M. Taylor and Joan Taylor, Anglo-Saxon Architecture, 2 vols. (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1965, repr. 1980), I, 87, 222–24, 52, respectively. 21 Matthew R. Crawford, The Eusebian Canon Tables: Ordering Textual Knowledge in Late Antiquity, Oxford Early Christian Studies (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2019), 229.

22 London British Library, MS Cotton Nero D. iv, fols. 10r–17v, https://www.bl.uk/manuscripts/ Viewer.aspx?ref=cotton_ms_nero_d_iv_fs001r. Michelle P. Brown, The Lindisfarne Gospels: Society, Spirituality and the Scribe (London: British Library, 2003), 304. 23 Rome, Vatican City, Biblioteca Apostolica, Barberini Lat. 570, The digivatlib, https://digi. vatlib.it/view/MSS_Barb.lat.570.

24 London, British Library MS Royal 1 E. vi, https://www.bl.uk/manuscripts/Viewer.aspx?ref​ =royal_ms_1_e_vi_fs001ar.



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companion-relic of the Maaseik embroideries.25 In Eusebian canon table arcades, the area within the arches is occupied by text, the decoration confined to the pillars, arches, and interstices. The Maaseik arcade embroideries, however, have decorative motifs not only in all these places, but also inside the framed spaces. Arcades can be found as framing devices on Mercian stone sculptures thought to be contemporary with the embroideries, but they usually contain figural motifs. At Breedon-on-the-Hill, Leicestershire, there is an arcade of arches framing apostles, probably part of a sarcophagus.26 The Hedda Stone in Peterborough Cathedral, Cambridgeshire, a house-shaped sculpture, has six nimbed figures in arcades on each side;27 and an early ninth-century panel, possibly one side of a shrine, from Hovingham, North Yorkshire, has eight.28 Nimbed busts appear in an arcade on a stone panel from Fletton, Cambridgeshire.29 However, animals within arches appear to be uncommon on stone sculpture. Exceptions are single and paired animals in plant scroll, which appear in the bottom tier of a series of arcades on an early ninth-century column at Masham, North Yorkshire;30 and on two sides of an incomplete cross shaft from Derby, St. Alkmund 1 (faces A and D), where the arches are arranged vertically and each contains one creature, three beasts on side A and a bird and two beasts on side D.31 Arcades containing figural subjects were traditional in textile art from the late Antique period,32 and continued into the late Middle Ages.33 However they do not appear on other surviving early English textiles, where the use of arches as frames does not occur until the eleventh- to twelfth-century embroidered stole fragments in Worcester, 25 See note 6; Codex Eykensis, eighth century, https://repository.teneo.libis.be/delivery/ DeliveryManagerServlet?change_lng=en&dps_custom_att_1=staff&dps_pid=IE5258806​ &mirador=true. 26 David M. Wilson, Anglo-Saxon Art: From the Seventh Century to the Norman Conquest (London: Thames and Hudson, 1984), fig. 90. Rather better-known sculptures from the same site consist of individual arch-shaped frames containing single figures in Byzantine style, including a wellpreserved archangel and a Virgin Mary; Webster, Anglo-Saxon Art, 114, 133, figs. 85, 86. 27 Wilson, Anglo-Saxon Art, fig. 93.

28 Hawkes, “The Art of the Church,” figs. 2, 3.

29 “Fletton St. Margaret,” Simon Jenkins, Great English Churches http://www.greatenglishchurches. co.uk/html/fletton.html.

30 Jane Hawkes, “The Art of the Church in Ninth-Century Anglo-Saxon England: The Case of the Masham Column,” Hortus Artium Medievalium 8 (2002): 337–48; Jane Hawkes, “The Church Triumphant: The Figural Columns of Early Ninth-Century Anglo-Saxon England,” Anglo-Saxon Studies in Archaeology and History 16 (2009): 31–44. 31 Derby St. Alkmund, ninth or tenth century. Side D is pictured at https://chacklepie.com/ascorpus/ corpus_images_vol13.php?set=4142, Plate 147 of vol. 13 of the Corpus of Anglo-Saxon Sculpture.

32 Annemarie Stauffer, Textiles of Late Antiquity (New York: Metropolitan Museum of Art, 1995), 67, shows an arcade containing portraits, p. 22, a more unusual arcade containing a mounted hunter and hound, both Coptic. I am grateful to Nancy Spies for this reference. 33 See the early fourteenth-century alb apparels in Lucera, Italy; Elizabeth Coatsworth and Gale R. Owen-Crocker, Clothing the Past: Surviving Garments from Early Medieval to Early Modern Western Europe (Leiden: Brill, 2018), 192–96.

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probably from the tomb of Bishop William of Blois, which depict, on their terminals, figures under individual arches.34 The Maaseik arcades, filled as they are with animal ornament, arranged variously in plant scrolls, interlace, and geometric compartments, appear to have no close parallel in textile art or in Anglo-Saxon art in other media, with only the paired creatures in plant scroll on the Masham stone sculpture arcades bearing some resemblance. The Maaseik zoomorphic arcades may, therefore, have been quite innovative. The areas within the individual Maaseik arches are subdivided in various ways: by horizontal and vertical lines into six compartments; by diagonal lines into seven compartments; arranged to display six roundels; arranged as a double inhabited scroll; arranged so that animals are within a plant springing from opposite sides of the base of the arcade; and within other asymmetrical plant ornament. The motifs within each arch are neatly placed and the design of each is balanced. Only one arch contains a single creature (arcade B: 4). The arcade creatures are usually either arranged in pairs or almost always have a partner or partners somewhere in the internal design of their arch: some of the groups of six roundels do not have opposite pairs, but there is evidently deliberate arrangement: Arcade 1, arch 7 has three similar birds and three similar quadrupeds; Arcade 2, arch 9 has three plant motifs, two leaping animals and a bird. Arcade 2, arches 5 and 9 display leaping animals piercing the frames of their roundels, a feature found on some English stone sculptures;35 one of them, in arch 5, centre left, has its forelegs crossed over the framing roundel in what is referred to in the Corpus of Anglo-Saxon Sculpture as the “Anglian lock” (Fig. 4.3).36 Additional motifs on the arcade strips, both those placed within the arches, and those in the frames and in the spaces between them, are also balanced and neat. The two sets of arcades are at the very least from the same set, since they are of similar width, both have an upper and lower border of chevrons, and they share motifs: both have paired creatures in interlace (Arcade A arches 1, 5, 9; Arcade B arch 6); paired creatures flanking a tree scroll (A: 2, 6; B: 1, 4); triangles and lozenge (A: 3; B: 8); six roundels (A: 4, 7; B: 5, 9); and rectangles (A: 8; B: 3, 10). Only B: 7, which has a scroll 34 Lester-Makin, The Lost Art, 187–90.

35 Particularly Auckland, St. Andrew 1, last quarter of the eighth to the first quarter of the ninth century, Corpus, 1: 37–40, https://chacklepie.com/ascorpus/catvol1.php?pageNum_ urls=1&totalRows_urls=532 and plates 8 and 14 https://chacklepie.com/ascorpus/corpus_ images.php?set=2&pageNum=7; and https://chacklepie.com/ascorpus/corpus_images. php?set=2&pageNum=13, respectively. Limbs also protrude from scrolls on York, St. Leonard’s Place 2A, Corpus, 3: 109–10, https://chacklepie.com/ascorpus/catvol3.php?pageNum_urls=230&totalRows_ urls=288 and plate 368 https://chacklepie.com/ascorpus/corpus_images_vol3.php?set=738.

36 The figure shows one example of this “lock,” which occurs on some bird and animal legs on fragment l from Breedon-on-the-Hill, Leicestershire, to be numbered Add. 1, 2, No. 14, 16, 18 in R. J. Cramp, J. Hawkes, and J. Story, Corpus of Anglo-Saxon Stone Sculpture, vol. 15: Leicestershire, Northamptonshire, Rutland and the Soke of Peterborough (Oxford: Oxford University Press for the British Academy, forthcoming). I am grateful to Joana Story for giving me advance access to the images and numbers of these fragments. Cf. also Auckland, St. Andrew 1bB, and the back legs of the top animal on 1bD cited at note 35 above.



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Figure 4.3: Inhabited horizontal scroll, fragment of a stone frieze, pre-Viking. Breedon-on-theHill, Leicestershire, United Kingdom, Church of St. Mary and St. Hardulph. Photo by Joanna Story and the Corpus of Anglo-Saxon Sculpture. Used with permission.

originating at bottom left, is not paralleled. However, they may not be cut from the same piece of embroidered frieze since the upper parts of them are decorated according to different schemes: The upper curves of Arcade A have a regular pattern of one set of scrolls followed by two of interlaced knots, while Arcade B has a regular alternation of knotwork and scrolls. The spandrels of Arcade A depict plant, knot, creature, plant, knot, creature before becoming indistinguishable; and below, the spaces between the arches depict motifs in the order: creature, plant scroll, knot, creature, knot, plant scroll, paired creatures, knot. Arcade B has a different order in the spandrels: knot, plant, creature, knot, plant, creature, knot before becoming indistinguishable; and unlike Arcade A, in Arcade B the motifs in the spaces between the arches correspond to those in the spandrels. The embroiderers of the arcades regularly use blue silk to designate creatures’ eyes, which helps in understanding anatomy, but blue is not used exclusively for this purpose.

The Roundel Strips

The two strips of roundels (Figs 4.4, 4.5), both ca. 190 mm × 187 mm, unlike the arcade strips have no framing border design, though there may be the remains of a vertical border to the left of Fragment B. They both contain two rows of five roundels, each containing one creature. Roundels were a much more common decorative device than arcades. Roundels were undoubtedly well-established in the textile tradition; examples survive from Coptic, Sassanian, Byzantine, and Islamic cultures, where single or paired animals within circular frames are common. They appear on the funeral garment of the Anglo-Merovingian saint Queen Bathilde, who died in 680, embroidered in silk on linen in imitation of pendants on a Byzantine-style jewelled collar.37 Textile designs are believed to have influenced metalwork, both directly in western Europe, or indirectly by influence from 37 Funeral Garment, Queen Bathilde, Genevra Kornbluth, Kornbluth Photography, http://www. kornbluthphoto.com/images/Balthild7.jpg.

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eastern metalwork, itself influenced by textiles. Thus there are roundels on the Carolingian silver cup found as a container for a Viking hoard in the Vale of York and others like it38 and in the border of the ninth-century, Anglo-Saxon Fuller Brooch.39 They also appear in English manuscript art, such as in the Canon Tables of the Royal Bible.40 Roundels were therefore familiar in the Anglo-Carolingian world of Mercia that produced the Maaseik embroideries and Aldeneik that received them. Each Maaseik roundel contains a single creature. Unlike the animals in the arcades, the roundel creatures are not entwined with interlace or foliage, though sometimes parts of their bodies extend into knots. Also, unlike the creatures in roundels on the arcades, none of the creatures here protrude from their circular frames; but they are less tidily placed than the more complex, but balanced, motifs in the arcades. The arrangement on the roundel strips appears to be vertical rather than horizontal, with similar, if not identical, creatures sometimes placed one above the other, usually facing in the same direction, but sometimes (Roundel A: 3 and 8; Roundel B: 4 and 9) facing in opposite directions. Viewed horizontally, the arrangement appears random, with some creatures confronted, some addorsed, some in procession. Those in the lower rows have blue eyes, like the creatures in the arcades, but those in the upper rows have pink eyes. The creatures are active, not formally positioned but not realistically placed either. Some have upturned wings; one bites its tail. They may be less fantastic, more naturalistic, than the creatures on the roundels, including a mouse-like animal (B: 8), and some frisky creatures with curling tails (A: 4, B: 2), though the loss of the goldwork may mislead the modern eye. Generally, the roundel creatures have less resemblance to the English sculptures and manuscripts than the creatures in the arcades, particularly because they do not share the interaction with fine interlace found in Mercian art and the arcades. Between the roundels there are foliate motifs, usually ending in three-petalled flowers that are similar to crosses, some bending or leaning to left or right, some more upright. Some of the motifs are more obvious crosses. These motifs appear randomly arranged. Generally, the design of the roundels seems less accomplished than that of the arcades, and perhaps more to Continental taste. Though the embroidery is carried out in a similar way, the design of the roundels was probably the work of a different hand from that of the arcades. It is likely that roundels had become appropriate motifs on Christian art: on several contemporary stone carvings, scrolls of an inhabited vine have effectively become roundels. Examples are St. Andrew, Auckland, Co. Durham (which has particular resem38 Ager, “The Carolingian Cup,” 94–99.

39 The Fuller Brooch is a silver disc brooch with one large central roundel, divided into five zones depicting the Five Senses, and an openwork border with sixteen roundels containing geometric and zoomorphic motifs, and human busts; The Fuller Brooch, The British Museum, https://www. britishmuseum.org/collection/object/H_1952-0404-1. 40 London, British Library MS Royal 1 E.vi, fol. 4r, http://www.bl.uk/manuscripts/Viewer. aspx?ref=royal_ms_1_e_vi_fs001ar.



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blance to the larger of the Maaseik arcade fragments, Arch 5)41 and inhabited scrolls on carvings from Ramsbury, Wiltshire42 and Breedon-on-the-Hill, Leicestershire (Fig. 4.3). It is not possible to recognize any specific Christian symbolism in the creatures on either set of embroideries in their present, damaged state, or to know if they had any Christian meaning. There are, for example, no recognizable peacocks (which represented resurrection), or doves (the Holy Spirit). There are some possible lambs (Christ as sacrifice) at arcade A, arch 3 and at roundel A; 4 and B: 2, but nothing to indicate theological significance. The Maaseik beasts are, on the whole, and especially in the arcades, more fantastic than naturalistic. The decorative crosses between some of the roundels, however, suggest a religious use (unless they were intended to be plants). The arcades have three rather unobtrusive crosses, one between the columns of A: 6 and 7, two between the lower tiers of roundels in arch B: 9. Modern scholars have sought to interpret in theological terms animal and plant designs on artworks contemporary with the Maaseik embroideries. The outer zone of the Fuller Brooch consists of roundels containing human busts, contorted beasts, and geometric designs which might perhaps represent plants. Leslie Webster suggests that the border zone represents “different aspects of Creation.”43 Similarly Jane Hawkes discusses the Masham animal arcades as “a scheme that commonly had the potential to signify the Christian community receiving sustenance from the teachings and sacraments of the Church.”44 In both cases, the animal motifs can be seen in wider contexts: the Fuller Brooch’s central zone depicts personifications of the Five Senses, prioritizing Sight, potentially representing divinely granted Insight or Wisdom as well as simply human vision; the upper registers of the Masham pillar depict Christ, the Apostles, and specific Old Testament events that can be interpreted as demonstrating the significance of the Christian sacraments through Christ’s sacrifice, prefigured by Old Testament episodes. Thus, like the earlier beasts that inhabit vine scroll on Northumbrian sculptured crosses, where the vine is an established symbol for Christ, and the cross on which it is carved is an essential aspect of Christianity, the Fuller and Masham beasts can be plausibly explained in a doctrinal way. The Maaseik fragments, however, have no such context to guide interpretation of them, other than the composite textile on which they were found in a church treasury and their shape, which suggests they were borders or apparels on larger textiles of liturgical significance. The roundels with their established 41 Auckland, St. Andrew 1, last quarter of the eighth to the first quarter of the ninth century, Corpus, 1: 37–40, https://chacklepie.com/ascorpus/catvol1.php?pageNum_urls=1&totalRows_urls=532 at plates 8, 14 https://chacklepie.com/ascorpus/corpus_images.php?set=2&pageNum=7; and https://chacklepie.com/ascorpus/corpus_images.php?set=2&pageNum=13.

42 Ramsbury 1A and 1C, ninth century; Corpus, 7: 228–29, https://chacklepie.com/ascorpus/ catvol7.php?pageNum_urls=164&totalRows_urls=238 and plates 488 and 491, https://chacklepie. com/ascorpus/corpus_images_vol7.php?set=2086&pageNum=0; and https://chacklepie.com/ ascorpus/corpus_images_vol7.php?set=2086&pageNum=3, respectively. 43 Leslie Webster and Janet Backhouse, The Making of England: Anglo-Saxon Art and Culture, AD 600–900 (London: British Museum, 1991), 280. 44 Hawkes, “The Church Triumphant,” 36.

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Figure 4.4: Roundel strip A, silk embroidery on linen, late eighth or early ninth century. Image X085898 © KIK-IRPA, Brussels. Used with permission.

Figure 4.5: Roundel strip B, silk embroidery on linen, late eighth or early ninth century. Image X085901 © KIK-IRPA, Brussels. Used with permission.

vine-scroll-like framework and more potential crosses have perhaps more theological plausibility than the arcades, though the latter have the more professional layout. On a different note, the association of the Maaseik embroidery designs with Mercian book art raises the interesting possibility that both or either of the sets might have been designed by women for women to embroider. So far only one instance of embroidery design is documented: that of Archbishop Dunstan, creating a pattern to be stitched in



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goldwork on a stole for female embroiderers.45 However, Michelle Brown has suggested three of the prayerbooks of the Mercian “Tiberius” group were written for, and probably by, women in western Mercia shortly before and after the year 800.46 Two of them, the Book of Nunnaminster and the Royal Prayer book, contain zoomorphic initials in a style similar to the Maaseik embroideries; the former has beast heads, one with the short head lappet of the beast between spandrels 3 and 4 of Arcade A, one ending in interlace and knots, both with small round ears similar to Maaseik Roundel A: 4 and B: 847 while the latter has, at fol. 17r, a winged creature spanning the two uprights of a letter in a manner reminiscent of the leaping beasts which penetrate their roundel enclosures in Arcade B, arch 5.48 Their scribe/artists might well have designed zoomorphic textile cartoons as well.

45 Lester-Makin, The Lost Art, 119. All the surviving evidence for gold embroidery in the AngloSaxon period points to the specialist exponents being female; Lester-Makin, The Lost Art, 113–20. 46 The Harley Prayerbook, London, British Library MS Harley 7653; The Book of Nunnaminster, London, British Library, MS Harley 2965; and the Royal Prayerbook London, British Library, MS Royal 2.A. xx; M. P. Brown, “Mercian Manuscripts? The ‘Tiberius’ Group and its Historical Context,” in Mercia: An Anglo-Saxon Kingdom in Europe, ed. M. P. Brown and C. A. Farr (London: Leicester University Press, 2001), 278–91; and Brown, “Writing in the Insular World.” 47 Harley 2965, The British Library, http://www.bl.uk/manuscripts/Viewer.aspx?ref=harley_ ms_2965_fs001ar, fols 11r and 16v.

48 Royal 2.A. xx, The British Library, http://www.bl.uk/manuscripts/Viewer.aspx?ref=royal_ ms_2_a_xx_fs001r.

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Appendix

These observations were made using the zoom function on the Belgian Art Links and Tools website for the Casula van HH. Harlindis en Relindis, http://balat.kikirpa.be/ photo.php?path=X085890&objnr=15396&nr=8#relatedphoto. Arcade A The Smaller Arcaded Fragment Numbering from the left, this appears to show: Arch 1

Above: confronted quadrupeds with long, upraised wings facing upwards with long head lappets that interlace with their bodies; or possibly they face away from one another and the long appendages are beaks or tongues (as on the Gandersheim Casket, an eighth-century whalebone box of Mercian origin: front, top row, inner pair).49 Their forelegs interlace.

Below: confronted quadrupeds with short horizontal wings, their forelegs interlace. They have long lappets at the backs of their heads, which resemble the lappets on animal heads on pairs of beasts on the Gandersheim Casket (front, top row, outer pair and back, top left panel). On Maaseik these lappets wind round the long appendages on the upper pair of beasts and entwine with asymmetrical interlace ornament. Interlace and beasts interact closely like this in the Canon Tables of the St. Petersburg Gospels,50 the Barberini Gospels,51 the fragmentary Royal Bible,52 and on the Gandersheim Casket. Frame: plant scroll. Spandrel between arches 1 and 2: probably a plant. Space below columns: bottom, running quadruped facing right; above, possibly running quadruped facing left. Arch 2

A double vine scroll, springing from a central stem, what is called “a tree scroll,”53 contains two confronted winged beasts of giraffe-like proportions. Their bodies are within the lowest spiral of the scroll, but their heads protrude into the next tier of scrolls. They have long knob-ended tails that abut the second tier of scroll. (The long-necked bipeds on the rear of the lid of the Gandersheim Casket have clubbed tails.) They have long, 49 Webster, Anglo-Saxon Art, 141, fig. 100.

50 Eighth century. Russia, St. Petersburg, The National Library of Russia, Cod. F. v. I. 8. Noted by Calberg and illustrated at her Fig. 18, there called l’évangéliare de Leningrad. 51 https://digi.vatlib.it/view/MSS_Barb.lat.570, fol. 1r.

52 Royal MS 1, E. vi, fol. 6r, The British Library, http://www.bl.uk/manuscripts/Viewer. aspx?ref=royal_ms_1_e_vi_fs001ar. 53 Found occasionally on stone sculptures, for example (uninhabited) on Face B of Northallerton 1, an eighth-century fragment: https://chacklepie.com/ascorpus/corpus_images_vol6. php?set=1655&pageNum=1, and (with birds and humans) on Urswick 1, Face C, Cumbria, a ninth=century fragment https://chacklepie.com/ascorpus/corpus_images_vol2.php?set=135&pageNum=3.



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upturned wings, one of which has a triangular panel in the wider end. They bear some resemblance to beasts on the central pin of the Witham pin suite,54 which also has the narrow interlace found elsewhere in the Maaseik arcades; and to winged bipeds on both the front and the back of the Gandersheim Casket which also interact with narrow interlace that is an extension of their own tails. There are no creatures in the upper curves and heart-shaped top of the scroll, which are filled with flower shapes. Frame: knotwork interlace. Spandrel between arches 2 and 3: interlace. Space below columns: symmetrical plant scroll. Arch 3

The panel is divided by diagonal lines into seven compartments: a central lozenge and three triangles above and below it, all filled with creatures. The top three appear to contain birds with fat, upturned beaks.55 There is a facing pair on either side, and a left-facing, similar creature above. There is another facing pair of creatures to either side at the bottom; they look like frisky lambs. The creature in the bottom triangle is dissimilar and does not resemble the bird at the top. It appears to be a creature lying down, with a long, protruding tongue. None of these compartments contain interlace. The largest central compartment, a lozenge, contains a quadruped, its head turned upwards or backwards and its tail projecting into interlace. Frame: knotwork interlace. Spandrel between arches 3 and 4: a large backward-facing creature. It has a big head, a single visible leg and a large wing; perhaps a wyvern (a two-legged dragon). Space below columns: interlace. Arch 4

The area is divided into six roundels with a space at the top that is occupied by a bird with a fat, upturned beak, similar to those in Arch 3. The roundels are not filled symmetrically. The bottom right appears to contain a plant motif, the bottom left a bird with a fat, downturned beak. The creature in the middle right roundel is winged, the one in the top right roundel appears to turn its head backwards, but otherwise they are indistinguishable. The roundels were originally edged with green, which links them together, slightly suggestive of plant scroll. The background colours are co-ordinated in the same way in all the roundel-filled arches of both arcades, in this case left, top and bottom and right, middle are blue, and the others are pink. Frame: plant scroll. Spandrel between arches 4 and 5: plant motif. Space below columns: possibly two confronted creatures, intertwined. 54 Witham Pins, silver-gilt, second half of the eighth century, The British Museum, https://www. britishmuseum.org/collection/object/H_1858-1116-4.

55 Budny calls these “snouts” and notes that they are “unusual and distinctive” in Anglo-Saxon art; The Anglo-Saxon Embroideries at Maaseik, 120 and plate IIIa.

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Two large creatures (perhaps dissimilar) fill the entire space. They stand on their back legs on feet that, on the left creature, appear hoofed. Their bodies intertwine sinuously, with the body of the right-hand creature apparently running into the leg of the left. Their stance has some resemblance to that of the creatures, thought to be horses, on the top central plaque on the cloisonné purse lid and the stamped, gilded copper-alloy rim of the shield boss from Sutton Hoo, both early seventh century.56 Frame: knotwork interlace. Spandrel between arches 5 and 6: some interlace, otherwise indistinguishable. Space below columns: interlace. Arch 6

Tree scroll rising from a central stem into six curves, all inhabited. Probably two confronted birds at the bottom, otherwise indistinguishable. Spandrel between arches 6 and 7: single-legged creature facing left. Space below columns: interlace and possible tall cross or plant in the middle. Arch 7

Six roundels containing probably two sets of three creatures, three birds and three beasts arranged so that bird confronts or opposes beast in each row. The birds (left top and bottom right, centre) are all set against pink background and face right with one wing raised. The animals (right, top and bottom left, central) all face left. The middle one, on a green background, has a raised tail. The other two, on yellow background, apparently do not. There is another creature, perhaps a bird with a trefoil tail (at the right) above the roundels. Frame: knotwork interlace. Spandrel between arches 7 and 8: indistinguishable creature. Space below columns: two confronted and intertwining creatures, standing upright in a position like those in Arch 5, but here the necks of the creatures cross. Arch 8

Space divided by horizontal and vertical lines into six compartments, the bottom four rectangular, the top two with curved tops. They all contain single creatures. The bottom row are probably a pair, though not quite identical in position, confronted but turning their heads to face outward. The others are largely indistinguishable. The middle row may have been an addorsed pair. The top row are dissimilar. Frame: plant scroll. Spandrel between arches 8 and 9: indistinguishable. Space below columns: interlace. 56 Respectively, Sutton Hoo Purse Lid, The British Museum, https://www.britishmuseum.org/ collection/object/H_1939-1010-2-a-l; and the Sutton Hoo Shield, The British Museum, https:// www.britishmuseum.org/collection/object/H_1939-1010-94-K-3.



Arch 9

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Two pairs of creatures in interlace. At the top confronted beasts and below addorsed birds with down-curved beaks. The interlace links each pair and also links the top and bottom pairs. Frame: knotwork interlace. Arcade B The Longer Arcaded Fragment Arch 1

Two pairs of confronted creatures either side of a central stem. They are not the same shape, or in the same stance as the creatures in tree scrolls on Arcade A. The upper creatures have long, curved necks and there is some interlacing effect, but whether between creatures and scroll, or the creatures’ own limbs, is unclear. Left side of arcade and frame over arch: interlacing knots. Spandrel between arches 1 and 2: triangular knot. Space below columns: interlacing knots. Arch 2

Divided into a lozenge and six triangles. The side triangles appear to be occupied by quadrupeds on their back legs, confronted but with heads turned backwards. The three central compartments are occupied by single creatures, at the top a bird (?) facing left, in the middle an animal (?) facing left. The bottom one is undistinguishable. Frame: plant scroll. Spandrel between arches 2 and 3: plant motif. Space between columns: plant scroll. Arch 3

Divided by vertical and horizontal lines into six compartments. The two lower tiers are squarer than their equivalent on Arcade A. The top compartments, which are curved at the top, are occupied by addorsed birds turning inwards, each with one clawed foot raised; the middle compartments by confronted quadrupeds turning to bite their own tails. They have one foreleg raised to head level. The bottom compartments contain addorsed creatures turning their necks to face inwards. In each tier the creatures are matching pairs. Frame: interlacing knots. Spandrel between arches 3 and 4: single bird, body facing left, head turning right, with short head lappet as found in Mercian art, for example in the Book of Cerne,57 the

57 Cambridge, University Library, MS Ll.1.10, fol. 22r on a whole animal, and on numerous zoomorphic initials, such as on fol. 48r: https://cudl.lib.cam.ac.uk/view/MS-LL-00001-00010/57.

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Book of Nunnaminster,58 the rampant beast on the sculpture Derby, St. Alkmund 1D, and like “Phrygian hats” on human heads in the Tiberius Bede.59 Space between columns: (?) upright creature in interlace. Arch 4

Tree scroll. The bottom volutes appear to contain only plant ornament. The top contains a large bird with a hooked beak, facing left. Its wing and tail protrude from an enclosing plant scroll. It resembles the birds on the side arms of a stone cross head from Cropthorne, Worcestershire, and like the bird on the upper arm of the same cross and the Mercian manuscripts and the Derby sculpture cited above (Arch 3), has a short, roundended head lappet.60 Frame over arch: plant scroll. Spandrel between arches 4 and 5: triangular knot. Space below columns: interlacing knots. Arch 5

Six roundels containing creatures, the top addorsed birds, heads escaping their roundel frame at the top. With one wing up, one down, and a protruding tail, they bear some resemblance to a bird in a scroll on a sculpture re-used on a lintel at Acton Beauchamp, Herefordshire.61 The tails of flying birds also protrude from plant scroll on a sculpture from York, Minster 01A.62 The middle tier contains confronted animals, turning their heads away, their legs escaping their round frame at the bottom. These are certainly a pair. At the bottom are possibly addorsed birds, probably a pair. The animals in the middle tier bear a close resemblance to the stone sculpture from St. Andrew, Auckland 1, faces 1bB, 1bD, where creatures’ limbs protrude from the roundel-like scrolls, and creatures turn their heads to bite their tails.63 The Maaseik left-hand creature has its front 58 A late eighth-century decoration in the prayerbook with Gospel excerpts, London, British Library, MS Harley 2965, fol. 11r: https://www.bl.uk/manuscripts/Viewer.aspx?ref=harley_ ms_2965_fs001ar. 59 London, British Library, MS Cotton Tiberius C. ii, fols. 5v, 8r, 62v, 82v: http://www.bl.uk/ manuscripts/Viewer.aspx?ref=cotton_ms_tiberius_c_ii_fs001r.

60 Cropthorne 1 A, early ninth century; Corpus, 10: 127: https://chacklepie.com/ascorpus/ catvol10.php?pageNum_urls=87.

61 Acton Beauchamp 1A, early ninth century; Corpus, 10: 281–83: https://chacklepie.com/ ascorpus/catvol10.php?pageNum_urls=2&totalRows_urls=298 and plate 496 https://chacklepie. com/ascorpus/corpus_images_vol10.php?set=2819&pageNum=0.

62 York, Minster 01, eighth to early ninth century, Corpus, 3: 53–54: https://chacklepie.com/ ascorpus/catvol3.php?pageNum_urls=173 and plate 1 https://chacklepie.com/ascorpus/corpus_ images_vol3.php?set=692.

63 Auckland, St. Andrew 1, last quarter of the eighth to the first quarter of the ninth century, Corpus, 1: 37–40: https://chacklepie.com/ascorpus/catvol1.php?pageNum_urls=1&totalRows_urls=532 and plates 8 and 14 https://chacklepie.com/ascorpus/corpus_images.php?set=2&pageNum=7; and https://chacklepie.com/ascorpus/corpus_images.php?set=2&pageNum=13, respectively. Limbs also protrude from scrolls on York, St. Leonard’s Place 2A, Corpus, 3: 109–110: https://



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legs in a “lock,” in that the legs cross, the near leg goes under the roundel and the far leg comes forward and goes over it (its partner does not). This device is sometimes found in Anglo-Saxon sculpture on both birds and beasts; for example, the front legs of the animal at the top of St. Andrew Auckland 1bB, and the back legs of the top animal on 1bD. Some bird and animal legs protrude and cross on fragments l from Breedon-on-the-Hill, Leicestershire, which are interesting parallel to the Maaseik roundels in that the creatures appear in a horizontal plant scroll in volutes that are effectively roundels (Fig. 4.3). Frame: interlaced knots. Spandrel between arches 5 and 6: tree scroll effectively a continuation of the tree scroll below. Space below columns: tree scroll. Arch 6

Interlace, wrapping large, confronted creatures, reared up, somewhat like the arrangement on a sculpture from Gloucester Priory (St. Oswald, Number 03, 3D) dating to the first quarter of the ninth century.64 Frame: plant scroll. Spandrel between arches 6 and 7: possibly single bird facing left, with loop at back of head, and with raised wings, or animal with raised legs. Space below columns: interlacing, possibly in the form of confronted beasts, similar to that in arch 6 but smaller. Arch 7

Plant scroll arising from bottom left, with two volutes, inhabited by indeterminate creatures. Frame: interlaced knots. Spandrel between arches 7 and 8: triangular knot. Space below columns: interlaced knots. Arch 8

Divided by diagonal lines into a lozenge and six triangles. The lower side triangles are occupied by a pair of confronted birds. The upper side triangles have two confronted creatures, not quite identical but probably a pair, possibly similar birds to the lower triangles but with small, upturned wings. The creature in the top central triangle is undistinguishable. The central lozenge may contain a bird on its side, head left, with wings stretched out vertically. The bottom central triangle may have an animal couchant, facing left. Frame over arch: plant scroll. chacklepie.com/ascorpus/catvol3.php?pageNum_urls=230&totalRows_urls=288 and plate 368 https://chacklepie.com/ascorpus/corpus_images_vol3.php?set=738.

64 Corpus, 10: 209–10: https://chacklepie.com/ascorpus/catvol10.php?pageNum_urls​ =152&totalRows_urls=298 and plate 282 https://chacklepie.com/ascorpus/corpus_images_vol10. php?set=2765&pageNum=4.

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Spandrel between arches 8 and 9: probably plant scroll. Space below columns: plant scroll.

Arch 9

Six roundels, above them a bird, or winged animal, facing left. The top roundel and those at bottom left and centre right have blue background, the others pink, the same as Arcade A, arch 4, and the same configuration as the pink/green arrangement in A: 7 and B: 5. In this case the pink roundels contain plant motifs (dissimilar), the blue, creatures. All the creatures penetrate the frames of their roundels, like those in B: 5. The creatures at top and bottom right are probably a pair, similar if not identical, prancing animals, which may have ancestry in the leaping animal motif found in Sassanian and Byzantine art, originating in hunting scenes but becoming a motif in its own right, as, for example, in roundels on the late eighth to mid-ninth-century silver-gilt Carolingian cup containing the Vale of York hoard of Viking metalwork (deposited ca. 927–928).65 The middle tier, left, has a profile bird, facing right, with a protruding tail, possibly forked, opposite a plant motif. The bottom tier, left, has a similar but not identical plant motif and bottom right an undistinguishable creature. There are two small crosses at centre and right between the bottom two tiers of roundels. Frame: interlacing knots. Spandrel between arches: undistinguishable. Space below columns: interlacing knots with a somewhat tangled effect; could possibly contain a creature, but probably not. Arch 10

Incomplete, left half only: the arcade was evidently divided into six compartments by vertical and horizontal lines like B: 3. The top and bottom compartments probably contain right-facing birds, the central one a plant. Frame: plant scroll. Roundel Fragment A Top row left to right:

1: undistinguishable creature, probably facing left.

2: (?) beaked quadruped, with interlacing tail, facing left, so in procession with creature in roundel 1.

3: quadruped, possibly with horns or head lappet, with interlacing at the back of the body, facing right, addorsed with creature in roundel 2. 4: quadruped with round ear (?), raised foreleg and tail, facing left, confronting creature in roundel 3. 65 Ager, “The Carolingian Cup,” figs. 1–2.



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5: leaping quadruped, with raised, three-lobed wing and interlacing rear leg, facing left, in procession with creature in roundel 4. Bottom row left to right:

6: quadruped facing right.

7: (?) beaked quadruped with foreleg raised, and interlacing tail, facing left, similar to 2, above it, confronting creature in roundel 6.

8: quadruped with interlaced body, possible lappet at the back of head, facing left, similar but not identical to 3 above it, but facing the opposite way, in procession with the creature in roundel 7. 9: indeterminate quadruped facing right, not much like the creature above it in 4, and facing the opposite way, addorsed with the creature in roundel 8.

10: (?) winged quadruped facing left, possibly once similar to 5, above it, confronting the creature in roundel 9. Roundel Fragment B

To the left of the roundels there is an area of triangles, stitched in silk, which could have been a vertical border, the only indication of border on the roundel fragments. Top row left to right:

1: creature with raised foreleg and wing, possibly a lappet at the back of the head, facing left.

2: quadruped with raised foreleg and tail, facing right, addorsed from the creature in roundel 1.

3: quadruped with long neck, head lappet or horn (goat-like?), triangular couching on body, or possibly wing, facing left, confronting the creature in roundel 2. 4: quadruped with raised foreleg and curly tail, facing left, in procession with the creature in roundel 3.

5: quadruped with raised foreleg and interlace on body, facing left, in procession with the creature in roundel 4. Bottom row left to right:

6: quadruped with raised foreleg, interlace at tail, facing left, similar head and legs to creature in 1 above, and facing the same way.

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7: creature with raised foreleg, possibly winged, facing right, raised leg and direction similar to 2 above, but otherwise unlike it, addorsed to creature in roundel 6. 8: seated mouse-like quadruped facing right but turning head to left to bite tail, facing the same way as creature in 3 above, but otherwise dissimilar; in procession with creature in roundel 7. 9: possible bird with one wing raised and possibly the other interlaced, facing right, the opposite way to the creature in 4 above, in procession with the creature in roundel 8.

10: quadruped with raised foreleg, facing left. Head could be facing front or turning away, this is not clear from its shape, with a long streamer beneath the head from left to right. The forelegs are similar to those of the creature in roundel 5, above. It confronts the creature in roundel 9. There are plants with three-lobed flowers or leaves above, between and below the roundels. Beneath and between roundels 6–9 the motifs are cross-like, but could be stylized plants.

Chapter 5

THE OLD ENGLISH VERSION OF ALEXANDER’S LETTER TO ARISTOTELESAND ITS USE OF BINOMIALS HANS SAUER† THE OLD ENGLISH (OE) version of Alexander’s Letter to Aristoteles (henceforth abbreviated as AlexArist) is a translation of the Latin Epistola Alexandri ad Aristotelem.1 When this was originally composed is difficult to tell. In any case, the Latin text and its OE rendering show an interest in Alexander the Great even in the early Middle Ages. AlexArist is largely fictitious; it narrates Alexander’s exploits in India and introduces a wealth of strange creatures, many of which attack Alexander and his army. The OE AlexArist is one of the prose texts preserved in the famous Beowulf manuscript, which was written around the year 1000; now it is manuscript London, British Library, Cotton Vitellius A. xv, where AlexArist occurs on fols. 107r–131v.2 As Kenneith Sisam has plausibly suggested, the Beowulf manuscript was probably assembled as a book of monsters, and AlexArist certainly fits into this category.3 The OE AlexArist was edited three times in the twentieth century, namely by Rypins in 1924 for the Early English Text Society (Latin text and OE version), by Fulk in 2010, 34–83 (OE version and Modern English (ModE) translation), and by Orchard in 1995 (OE version with a ModE translation, and Latin text).4 Here I quote from the revised edition by Orchard because it is more recent than Rypins, and because it presents the Latin and the OE texts. I have expanded 7 to and; the paragraphs (§) refer to Orchard’s edition. The translations offered here are often indebted to or dependent on Orchard’s translations. Like the other texts of the Beowulf manuscript, most notably Beowulf itself, AlexArist is probably a copy of a text that was composed (or rather translated) much earlier. It is 1 Epistola Alexandri ad Arisotele, ed. W. W. Boer, Beiträge zur klassischen Philologie 50 (Meisenheim am Glan: Hain 1973). For the reception of the Alexander story in Anglo-Saxon England, Pride and Prodigies: Studies in the Monsters of Beowulf, ed. Andy Orchard (Cambridge: Brewer, 1995; repr. Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 2003), chap. 5. In one strand of the tradition, Alexander is seen as an example of pride. Orchard points out some of the changes made by the OE translator that show Alexander as even more cruel than the Latin source does.

2 See N. R. Ker, Catalogues of Manuscripts Containing Anglo-Saxon (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1957), no. 216; and Helmut Gneuss, and Michael Lapidge, Anglo-Saxon Manuscripts: A Bibliographical Handlist of Manuscripts and Manuscript Fragments Written or Owned in England up to 1100 (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 2014), no. 399. 3 Kenneth Sisam, Studies in the History of Old English Literature (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1953), chap. 5; C. L. Wrenn, A Study of Old English Literature (London: Harrap, 1967), 254.

4 For a survey of editions, translations, and studies up to 1972, see Stanley B. Greenfield and Fred C. Robinson, A Bibliography of Publications on Old English Literature to the end of 1972 (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1980), 309–10: nos. 5378–5390. For the lesser interest in the AlexArist than in Beowulf, Greenfield and Robinson, 125–97: nos. 1628–3196A.

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often assumed that the original translation of AlexArist was in the Anglian (more specifically Mercian) dialect of OE (see also section on Dialect Vocabulary on pp. 111–12 below), and that the original translation was made in the second half of the ninth century, which would roughly coincide with the reign of King Alfred (king of Wessex 871– 899).5 Because there are no OE prose texts that can definitely be dated earlier than the reign of Alfred, the OE AlexArist may belong to the earliest layer of OE prose.6 Wrenn is probably wrong in assigning AlexArist to “late Old English prose fiction.”7 The manuscript in which the text has been preserved is late (ca. 1000), but the origin of AlexArist is probably much earlier (second half of the ninth century). Although Kenneth Sisam, as noted above, has done much to advance our understanding of Beowulf and the Beowulf manuscript, he has also given a bad reputation to the OE AlexArist: Sisam writes “that the translator was shaky in Latin”; he notes a “certain uncouthness in the translation” and he finds a “tedious doubling of expressions…here carried to excess.”8 Unfortunately, this judgement remains rather impressionistic, without examples that illustrate this evaluation. Nor is Sisam the only scholar who passes a negative judgement on AlexArist. Wrenn writes that AlexArist is “of little strictly literary merit” and he goes on to say that its “style is generally crude or ordinary—particularly uncouth is some of Alexander’s Letter.”9 If AlexArist is one of the earliest OE prose texts, the translator had no model or tradition on which to build. Andy Orchard gives a much more positive evaluation of AlexArist and especially the word-pairs in AlexArist; he writes, “[t]he most evident stylistic feature of the Old English translation is its persistent use of repetitive word pairs, or doublets.”10 He gives some examples and notes that many word pairs have no Latin equivalent. Therefore, they must have been introduced by the translator as a stylistic feature; see further section on Relation to Source on pp. 100–101 below and the Appendix. Here I concentrate on the word-pairs, the “doubling of expressions,” which I refer to as binomials. But binomials (word-pairs) are often not just “repetitive” or “redundant,” nor are they always a “doubling of expressions”—the two words that make up binomials can stand in a variety of semantic relations. They can be synonyms, antonyms, or what I

5 See Walter Hofstetter, Winchester und der spätaltenglische Sprachgebranch: Untersuchunen zur geographischedn und zeitlichen Verbreiturn altenglischer Synonyme. Texte und Untersuchungen zur Englischen Philologie 14 (Munich: Fink, 1987), 423 (no. 204), with further references; also Wrenn, A Study of Old English, 254. On the language of AlexArist, see Sisam, Studies in the History of Old English Literature, 88–93.

6 Hans Sauer and Birgit Schwan, “Heaven and Earth: Good and Bad, Answered and Said: A Survey of English Binomials and Multinomials,” Studia Linguistica Universitatis Jagellonicae Cracoviensis 134, no. 1 (2017): 83–96; Hans Schabram, Superbia: Studien zum altenglischen Wortschatz, Teil 1 (Munich: Fink, 1965), 35f. assigns AlexArist to the pre-Alfredian documents (“Voralfredische Denkmäler”), but then he says that it originated in the second half of the ninth century, which would include the Alfredian period; Sisam, Studies in the History of Old English Literature, 85, “points to an early date.” 7 Wrenn, A Study of Old English, 253.

8 Sisam, Studies in the History of Old English Literature, 85.

9 Wrenn, A Study of Old English, 253–54; for a survey of critical opinions on AlexArist, Pride and Prodigies, ed. Orchard, 132. 10 Pride and Prodigies, ed. Orchard, 132–33.

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have called complementaries. The complementaries form the largest group; for details see section on Semantics on pp. 104–5 below. Binomials are a stylistic feature. Binomials were employed by many Old English (and later) authors, although some authors, such as Wulfstan, used binomials frequently, whereas others, such as Ælfric, used them sparingly.11 Although binomials occur in Latin and in other languages, English authors were apparently particularly fond of them and, like the translator of AlexArist, often expanded a single Latin word into an OE binomial or added an English binomial. The use of binomials continued in the Middle English and Modern English periods.12 In the following I shall not discuss the literary and translational merits (or shortcomings) of AlexArist, but shall try a linguistic analysis that concentrates on the binomials and that is hopefully less impressionistic than the remarks by Sisam and Wrenn. My analysis shows that binomials were an important feature even of the earliest English prose style. Furthermore, like Orchard, I assume that binomials were employed as a rhetorical means in order to achieve a weighty and ornate style. I shall also conclude with a more positive view of binomials and their use in AlexArist at the end of the present article (section on Multinomials on pp. 128–29). A list of the binomials employed in AlexArist is provided in the Appendix.

Binomials and Multinomials

As with many linguistic and literary phenomena, there is no uniform terminology for the phenomenon discussed here. The term “binomials,” which I use here, was apparently coined by Yakov Malkiel, though pairs such as heaven and earth, men and women, good and bad, to have and to hold, up and down have also been called, for instance, word-pairs, tautologic word pairs, twin formulae, etc. However, not all of them are formulaic or tautologic; therefore, the term binomials seems the most neutral term.13 Binomials can be extended into multinomials, shading off into lists. There is no general answer to the question how far multinomials are actually amalgamations of binomials and how far they are independent creations; this has to be analyzed separately for each multinomial. In AlexArist multinomials were apparently mostly independent creations; see section on Relation to Source on pp. 100–101 and the Appendix (especially the section on Multinomials in the Appendix on pp. 128–29 ). However, some binomials are used independently and also as parts of multinomials. In § 8, for example, trumlic and fæstlic “mighty 11 On the use of binomials in some Alfredian texts, Sauer and Schwan, “Heaven and Earth,” 83–96, 185–204. 12 See, e.g., the articles in Binomials in the History of English: Fixed and Flexible, ed. Joanna Kopaczyk and Hans Sauer, Studies in English Language (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2107); Sauer and Schwan, “Heaven and Earth.”

13 Yakov Malkiel, “Studies in Irreversible Binomials,” Lingua 8 (1959): 113–60. Tautologic words have exactly the same meaning, but tautology is actually very rare; a possible example from ModE is christen and baptize (She was christened Emily; She was baptized Emily). I have the impression that the phenomenon that is called tautology by some authors is the same that I (and many others) call synonymy: Ernst Leisi, Die tautologischen Wertpaare in Caxton’s Eneydos: Zur synchronischen Bedeutungs- und Ursachenforschung (Cambridge, MA: Murray, 1947).

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and firm” occurs twice, once as a binomial and once as part of a multinomial, namely swiðe micle and trumlice and fæste “very great, and mightily, and firm” (said of the columns in the palace of king Porrus). Similarly, ϸa mine ϸegnas and eal min weorod “my thegns and all my troop” (§ 11) forms a binomial, but those words also occur as part of a multinomial, more precisely a trinomial, also in § 11: ϸæra minra ϸegna and ealles mines weoredes and heriges “of my thegns and all my troop and army” (on the significance of weored and herige see also subsection on Other Semantic Groups on p. 111 below). The number of multinomials is much smaller than the number of binomials: whereas I have counted 152 different binomials, I have counted only nineteen multinomials, which can be found in the Appendix.

Function of Binomials and History of Research

The main function of binomials in OE and Middle English (ME) texts seems to have been a stylistic and rhetorical one; namely, to contribute to a copia verborum, to a rich and rhetorical style. Rhetoric was valued highly in the OE and the ME period and also in Early Modern English, for example, in Wulfstan, Chaucer, Shakespeare, and Milton. Later, rhetoric was often looked down upon, but it was rediscovered in the course of the twentieth century. Binomials also occur in legal language. Some theologians, notably Reginald Pecock (ca. 1392–ca. 1460), used them, too.14 In legal (and theological) language their function is apparently to make the argument watertight and to exclude all doubtful cases.15 The study of binomials is more than 200 years old: it goes back to an article by Jacob Grimm in 1816, although Grimm did not yet have the term binomials. There was not much interest in binomials in twentieth-century scholarship. To my knowledge, there were just four monographs devoted to the study of binomials in the twentieth century; namely, Leisi 1947, Koskenniemie 1968, Gustafsson 1975, and Berger 1993. At present, there seems to be a renewed interest in binomials.16 This renewed interest is probably due to several factors. One is the recognition of the importance of rhetoric during much of the history of English; another is the discovery (or rather rediscovery) that much of language is prefabricated, and formulaic binomials are, of course, a part of prefabricated language.

Structure of Binomials: Inclusions and Exclusions

Following Malkiel, binomials can be defined as pairs of words that belong to the same word-class and are situated at the same syntactic level, are connected by a coordinating conjunction (most often and) and have some semantic relation.

14 On Pecock, see Hans Sauer, “Reginald Pecock and His Vocabulary: A Preliminary Sketch,” in Historical English Word-Formation and Semantics, ed. Jack Fisiak and Magdalena Bator, WSELLE 15 (Frankfurt am Main: Lang, 2013), 89–123.

15 To make an argument water-tight and all-inclusive and to exclude possible misunderstandings is apparently also the function of binomials in the theological writings of Reginald Pecock; see, e.g., Sauer “Reginald Pecock.” For other possible functions of binomials see, e.g., Sauer and Schwan, “Heaven and Earth.” 16 See the articles collected in Binomials in the History of English, ed. Kopaczyk and Sauer, and the bibliography provided at the end of that collection.

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The basic structure of binomials is “word + word,” as in the examples given above. This structure can be extended by the addition of articles, adjectives etc. as in ϸæs miclan kyninges and ϸæs mæran Macedoniscan (§1) “the great king and the famous Macedonian,” or idel spellung oϸϸe scondlic leasung (§ 4) “empty talk and shameful lies.” Especially adjectival binomials are sometimes split, that is, one adjective precedes the noun that it modifies, and the other adjective follows the noun. One example is on ϸæm selran ϸingum and on ϸæm gesundrum “in better and sounder things” (§ 12; lit. “in better things and sounder”); a more complex example is Þa ferdon we forð and woldan ma wunderlicra ϸinga geseon and sceawian and mærlicra “Then we went forth and wanted to see more wonderful and marvellous things” (§ 26): Here the adjectival binomial (wunderlicra… mærlicra) forms a kind of envelope around the verbal binomial geseon and sceawian; this is certainly a clever piece of rhetoric. The question, of course, is, where do binomials end and where do other phrases begin. As a rule of thumb, it can be said that the longer a phrase is, the less likely it is a binomial. Also, there must be some semantic relation between the two words making up a binomial, although the semantic criterion is a difficult one, and in most cases it is possible to establish a semantic connection between the elements of a binomial; see further section on Semantics on pp. 104–5 below. The words making up a binomial can be synonyms or antonyms or complementarities, but not all synonymous or antonymous or complementary phrases are binomials. Usually, I have excluded phrases consisting of a full verb + object (and also prepositional phrases), for example, gelpan and secgan be ϸære micelnisse ures gewinnes and compes § 4 “to boast and tell of the greatness of our struggle and contest,” that is, I have not regarded gelpan and secgan as a binomial because secgan introduces a separate phrase (but I have regarded gewinnes and compes as a binomial).17 Another example is § 10 Ða bebead ic minum ϸegnum and hie het… “Then I gave orders to my thegns and commanded that they…”: bebeodan and hatan could be a binomial, but here those verbs govern a direct object; therefore I have not regarded this instance as a binomial. A similar example that I have excluded is we…mete ϸigdon and usic restan “we…took our meal and rested without trouble” (§ 31), where there are two transitive verbs followed by direct objects. Ultimately, the judgement of the researcher will be decisive in cases of doubt. A borderline case is, for example, oϸϸe godra ϸinga cenne, oððe eft ϸara yfelra “it [sc. the earth] brings forth either good things, or afterwards evil things” § 3. “Good and evil” is a well-established and even formulaic binomial, which also occurs in AlexArist (hwæt godes oϸðe yfles “what good or ill” § 32), but in the phrase just quoted it has been expanded to a full phrase with the structure “object A (godra ϸinga)—verb (cenne)— object B (yfela).” Nevertheless, I have included it in my collection because the basis is obviously the contrast between good and evil, which is often expressed in the form of a binomial, and because it offers a parallel to a binomial that is attested in AlexArist. In my collection of binomials from AlexArist, I have generally tried to be too inclusive rather than too exclusive, in order not to miss any interesting examples. 17 But the L original has captantem iactantemque, which can be regarded as a binomial.

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Number and Word-Class of Binomials in AlexArist Counting just the different binomials (i.e., types, not tokens), AlexArist has 152 different binomials; the number of actual occurrences (tokens) is a little higher; for details see section on Formulaic Binomials on pp. 113–14 below and the Appendix. Most binomials occur just once, but some occur more frequently; the most frequent ones among the substantival binomials are “mother and sisters” and “sun and moon” with four occurrences each; among the verbal binomials frignan and ascian (axian) “inquire and ask” is also attested four times. Six binomials are attested twice, namely cyning – hlaford (“king – lord”); gefeoht – gewin (“fights – struggles”); nædere – wildeor (“serpent – wild beast”); sæ – garsecg (“sea – ocean”); geswencnis – earfeð (“difficulty – hardship”); wildeor – wyrm (“wild beast – serpent”) among the substantives; fersc – swete (“fresh – sweet”) among the adjectives; (ge)seon – sceawian (“see – observe”); wægan (wegan) – lædan (“bear – carry”) among the verbs; for details see the Appendix. On the frequency of the binomials in AlexArist see also section on Formulaic Binomials on pp. 113–14 below. Looking at the word-classes, substantival binomials (i.e., binomials consisting of noun + noun) form the largest group with seventy types, followed by verbal binomials (i.e., binomials consisting of two verbs) with fifty-four types, and adjectival binomials with twenty-eight types. There are only three adverbial binomials. Other word-classes are not attested among the binomials. In AlexArist the binomials are fairly evenly distributed; there are no passages with clusters of binomials nor are there longer passages where no binomial occurs. In Orchard’s edition AlexArist has fourteen printed pages and the text is divided into forty-one numbered paragraphs; all paragraphs occupy less or even much less than a page. On average therefore a little more than ten different binomials occur on each page. The word-class of the constituents of the binomials is usually clear, but a few assignations should be justified or at least mentioned. I have usually listed substantivized adjectives among the adjectives, and I have regarded participles as adjectives if they form a binomial with an adjective, that is if they are coordinated with an adjective. An example is Ða wæs ic swiðe bliðe and gefeonde (“Then I was very pleased and delighted” § 32). A different interpretation of this passage would be to regard Ða wæs ic…gefeonde as an early example of the so-called progressive form (expanded form), but it is probably more correct to regard bliðe and gefeonde as a binomial.

Relation to Source

According to Sisam AlexArist is “a free rendering, at times an adaptation, with patches of literalness.”18 The free rendering also shows in the use of binomials: many binomials in AlexArist are additions or expansion in comparison with the Latin text—it also shows once more that some English authors and translators were very fond of binomials.19 18 Sisam, Studies in the History of Old English Literature, 84. 19 See also Pride and Prodigies, ed. Orchard, 133.

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The Latin text is not always easy to translate, for example, when the palace of an Eastern king (King Porrus) is described in § 8. Words such as racemi “clusters of grape” or electrini “[things] made of amber” are not everyday Latin words; therefore it is no surprise that the OE translator encountered some problems. When the translation is literal it is often easy to say whether an OE binomial is a translation of a L binomial, or whether an OE binomial is an expansion of a single L word; but when the translation is free, it is, of course, difficult to assign an OE phrase to a Latin phrase. There are three main possibilities of the relation of an OE binomial to the Latin text: 1) The OE binomial translates a Latin binomial more or less literally, e.g., § 8: Thalami cubiliaque: His brydburas and his heahcleofan “His bedrooms and his main chambers”.

2) The OE binomial expands a single L word, e.g., § 2 prudentia: gleawnis and snyttro “wisdom and erudition.”

3) The OE binomial is an addition and has no antecedent in the L text, e.g., § 1 his siðfato and his fora “his expeditions and his travels.” This is the case several times when the translation is relatively free so that it is difficult or even impossible to say whether the OE binomial has a source in the L text.

For the purpose of the present research, I have made two groups, namely: (1) translation: an OE binomial translates a L binomial;

(2) addition or expansion: an OE binomial expands a single L word or is an addition without a clear antecedent in the L text.

In AlexArist the number of additions and expansions is much higher than the number of literal translations. There are only twenty-three instances that can be regarded as literal translations of the corresponding L binomials, but 122 OE binomials that are additions or expansions as compared to the L text. Among the substantival binomials there are twenty instances of translation, but forty-three instances of addition and expansion. Among the adjectival binomials there are only three instances of translation, but twenty-one instances of addition and expansion. Among the verbal binomials there are no instances of translation, but nineteen instances of addition and expansion. In the following, I give first a few examples of more or less literal translation, where a Latin binomial is translated as an OE binomial; this is followed by a few examples where the OE translation shows expansion of a single L word or the addition of a binomial in the OE version without an antecedent in the L text. For a full list see the Appendix: (1) More or less literal translation, that is a Latin binomial has been rendered by an OE binomial, even if in some instances the OE wording does not correspond exactly to the L wording: a) Substantival binomials

(i) balzamum and recels § 34; L ture et oppobalsamo (the sequence of the elements has been switched in the OE translation. Oppobalsamum was

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apparently a rare word; it is not mentioned by Lewis and Short; perhaps it is due to a mistake made by the scribe).20

(ii) byrdburas – heahcleofan (“bedrooms – main chambers”) § 8: Thalami cubiliaque (iii) hors – nieteno “horses – animals” § 16; L pecora et iumenta (in the OE version, different animals are mentioned)

(iv) mete – win “food – wine” § 24; L uini et carnis “wine and meat” (the sequence of the elements has been switched)

(v) modor – geswystor (“mother – sisters”), four times (§§ 2, 5, 37, 40); L mater – sororesque

b) Adjectival binomials

(i) god – yfel (“good – evil”) § 32; L bona – mala

(ii) scondlic – unarlic § 40; L turpissimo miserandoque (the L binomial is rendered with an OE binomial, but unarlic “dishonourable” is not really a translation equivalent of miserandus “to be pitied”).

c) Verbal binomials: In the OE version there are no instances of verbal binomials that have been translated from the L text.

(2) and (3) Expansion or addition: A few examples of OE binomials that are expansions of a single L word, or that are additions without a clear antecedent in the L text, are: (2) Expansion

a) Substantival binomials, expansion (i) bearu – treow § 36; L nemus

(ii) cyning – hlaford “king – lord” (twice, §§ 37, 40); L dominus

(iii) gefeoht – gewin “fights – battles” (Orchard: “battles – struggles”) §23; L bella (iv) gleawnis – snyttro “wisdom – erudition” § 2; L prudentia (v) hreod – treowcynn “reed – kind of tree” § 15; L arundo

b) Adjectival binomials, expansion

(i) bliðe – gefeonde “pleased – delighted” § 32; L laetus

(ii) heard – micel “hard – large” § 27; L durus

(iii) hluter – fæger “clear – beautiful” § 39; L purus

c) Apparently, there are no cases where simple L verbs have been expanded into OE binomials.

20 Charlton T. Lewis and Charles Short, A Latin Dictionary (Oxford: Clarendon, 1879).

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(3) Addition

a) Substantival binomials, addition (no clear correspondence in the Latin text):

(i) ferd (for fyrd) – dugoϸ “army – personal retinue” § 25; L— (on the significance of these terms see also subsection on Other Semantic Groups on p. 111 below)

(ii) hefigness – micelniss “weight – size” § 14; L—

(iii) ondswaru – word “answer – words” § 24; L—

b) Adjectival binomials, addition (no clear correspondence in the Latin text) (i) monifeald – missenlic “manifold – of various kinds” § 8; L—

(ii) ungleaw – unwis “unfamiliar – unaware” § 14; L—

c) Verbal binomials: all verbal binomials in the OE text are expansions or additions; there are no translations, e.g.: (i) adwæscte – acwencte “quenched – put out” § 30; L extincti (expansion) (ii) asett – geworht “constructed – built” § 15; L aedificatum (expansion)

(iii) biwriton – sægdon “written about – described” § 15; L descripsimus (expansion) (iv) eodon – scluncon “came – slithered” § 18; L— (addition)

Alliteration

Alliteration is rare among the binomials in AlexArist. Among the 152 different binomials (types) I have counted only nine cases of consonantal alliteration (see also the Appendix below): (a) nouns: bedd – bolster (§ 39); fen – fæsten (§ 27); wildeor – wyrm (§ 26); wif – wæpnedman (§ 34); willa – weorðmynd (§ 41); wundor – wæfersien (§ 11); (b) adjectives: micel – mære (§ 31); monifeald –missenlic (§ 8); verbs: wæfon – worhtan (§ 10). It is striking that five of those nine binomials alliterate on w. There is one binomial that could be regarded as a case of vocalic alliteration, namely oroð – eϸung (§ 18), but this is probably due to accident and was not done on purpose. A few binomials contain words that begin with the same prefix—e.g., aberan – aræfnian (§ 12)— but because in those cases the prefix was probably unstressed, I have not counted this as alliteration. Rhyme does not occur among the two elements of binomials; I have not counted words as rhyming which have the same suffix or the same inflexional ending, e.g., wunderlicran – egeslicran “more marvellous – more fearsome” (§ 18).

Etymology

The large majority of the binomials in AlexArist consists of native words, including compounds and derivations formed with native words and elements. Among the substan-

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tival binomials there are eight binomials which contain loan-words or consist of loanwords, but there are no loan-words among the adjectival and verbal binomials. All loanwords come from Latin. The following eight substantival binomials contain loan-words; the loan-words are printed in bold:21 1) balzamum – recels “balsam – incense” (§ 34; L ture et oppobalsamo; the latter was a rare word, which is not attested in Lewis and Short; perhaps it is due to a mistake);

2) cypressus – laurisc “of cypress and laurel” (§ 8; cypressus is a noun, laurisc is an adjective with the same OE suffix as Macedonisc);

3) kyning – Macedonisc (§ 1; L Alexandri regis magni Macedonis; kyning is a noun, Macedonisc is an adjective with the same OE suffix a laurisc);

4) eorcnanstan – carbunculus (§ 8);

5) herebeacn – segnas “war-banners – standards” (§ 11; segn is an early Latin loanword from L signum) (§ 24);

6) mete – win (§ 24; win “wine” is an old loan-word, which was perhaps no longer felt to be a loan-word); 7) gewin – comp “struggle – contest” (§ 4; comp ~ camp < L campus);

8) gewrit – epistola “written document – letter”

Semantics

Concerning the semantic relation between the two words that make up a binomial, I distinguish between synonyms, antonyms, and complementaries. Synonyms can broadly be defined as words with the same or a very similar meaning, antonyms can be defined as words with an opposite meaning, and complementaries are words that stand in a semantic relation but are neither synonymous nor antonymous.22 Complementaries can be divided into many subgroups. Because there are so many semantic relations, the present section is also relatively long. Of course, I cannot go into all the details of semantic analysis; for example, a definition of the term “synonyms” is not easy, and antonyms can be divided into several subgroups. But because there are few antonyms in AlexArist, I do not attempt such a division here. First, I discuss some problematic aspects of the meaning of binomials in general and of the meaning of binomials in AlexArist in particular; then I list the binomials in the category where, in my opinion, they most likely fit in, and discuss some of the more problematic cases. Whereas the word-class or the etymology of the two words making up a binomial are usually easy to determine, the semantic relation between the two words is often more diffi21 See Alfred Wollmann, “Early Latin Loan-Words in Old English,” Anglo-Saxon England 22 (1993): 1–26. 22 On tautology see note 13 above.

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cult to establish. This has several reasons. In the case of OE and ME, we must largely rely on the definitions given by the dictionaries. Many words are polysemous and they are synonymous in one of their meanings, but not in their other meanings. Grim, grimm, for example, is defined by J. R. Clark Hall as “fierce, savage, dire, severe, bitter, painful”; that is, in the meaning “bitter” grim is synonymous with biter, but not in its other meanings; conversely, biter has a number of meanings (e.g., “sharp, cutting, stinging, angry” etc.), which Clark Hall does not list for grim.23 I list words that have one meaning in common (according to their dictionary definition) as synonyms, for example, biter – grim (in the binomial ða wæs hit biterre and grimre to drincanne “then it was more bitter and harsh to drink” (Orchard § 13). To give another example, Clark Hall defines glēd as “glowing coal, ember, fire, flame” and fyr as “fire”; therefore, in its meaning “fire” glēd is synonymous with fyr, but not in its other meanings; I list fyr – gled among the complementaries, more specifically under “whole – part,” regarding fire as the whole, and glowing coals as its parts, see subsection 4 on Complementaries on pp. 108–9 below. Gelis and gleawnis are translated as “learning and knowledge” by Orchard; assuming that knowledge is a result of learning, I have put gelis and gleawnis in subsection 9 on p. 110 . “Sun” and “moon” could be regarded as antonyms, but also as complementaries, because the sun shines during daytime and the moon shines at night; I regard “sun” and “moon” as complementaries, more precisely as co-hyponyms in a semantic field; see subsection 3 on Complementaries on p. 108 below. A similar case is wif – wæpnedmen “women – men” § 34; “women” and “men” could be regarded as antonyms, but also as complementaries; I have put them into the group of complementaries, too. Context often helps to clarify the meaning of words, but within a binomial the two words making up the binomial usually do not have a context, so that often there is no context available that could help to clarify the meaning and the semantic relation. Orchard often translates Old English synonyms with two different ModE words—obviously, he tries not to repeat the same word. Some binomials fit into several subgroups, but I have usually assigned them just to one group. The constituents of the binomial leoht – fullast “light – comfort” (§ 16) could perhaps be taken as co-hyponyms in a semantic field, but I have listed this binomial in the subgroup “cause – result” (see subsection 9 on Complementaries on p. 110 below), because “comfort” can be seen as a result of light (and fire), at least in the context of AlexArist. Nædre – wildeor “serpent – wild beast” (and similarly wildeor – wyrm “wild beast – serpent”) fits at least into two categories; namely, “generally negative binomials” or “co-hyponyms in a word-field” (apparently there was no superordinate term in OE such as “animal”). I have put nædre – wildeor and wildeor – wyrm into the latter group. Synonyms

Some of the words in a binomial in AlexArist are synonyms, namely: 23 J. R. Clark Hall, A Concise Anglo-Saxon Dictionary, 4th ed., MART 14 (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1960).

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(a) Substantival binomials: bisgu – geswencnis “affliction – affliction” § 20; gefeoht – gewinn “fight – conflict” (Orchard translates more freely: “his own martial prowess”) § 24; for – siðfæt “journey – journey” § 14 (Orchard translates as “path and journey”); gryto – micelnyss “greatness – greatness” (Orchard translates as “of huge size and stature”) § 12; herebeacen – segnas “war-banners and standards” (Orchard’s translation) § 11; hrægl – gerela “dress – dress” (Orchard: “garb – clothes”) § 24; hysct – bismer “mockery – mockery” (Orchard: “ridicule and mockery”) § 33; lað – yfel “harm – ill” § 21; oroð – eϸung “breath – breath” (Orchard: “breath – exhalation”) § 18; sæ – garsecg “sea – sea” or “ocean – ocean” (Orchard: “sea – ocean”) § 26; geswencnis – earfeð “trouble – trouble” (Orchard: “difficulty – hardship”) § 19 (twice); unmætnis – micelnis “excessive greatness – greatness” (Orchard: “extent – depth”) § 30; unretu – nearonis “anxiety – anxiety” (Orchard: “distress – anxiety”) § 38; gewrit – epistola “letter – letter” (Orchard “document – letter”; it is unclear whether the document differed from the letter; Sisam 1953, 87 translates “a letter or epistle”); wundor – wæfersien “wonder – spectacle” (Orchard: “sight and spectacle”) § 11; wyrd – hiow “fate and fortune” § 12.

(b) Adjectival binomials: biter – grim “bitter – bitter” (Orchard: “bitter – harsh”) § 13; bliðe – gefeonde “pleased – delighted” § 32; monifeald – missenlic “manifold – manifold” (Orchard translates as “manifold and of various kinds”) § 8.

(c) Verbal binomials: aberan – alædan “carry away – lead away” (Orchard: “bring and carry”) § 11; aberan – aræfnian “bear – suffer” § 12; adwæscan – acwencan “extinguish – extinguish” (Orchard: “quenched and put out”) § 30; asett – geworht “established – constructed” (Orchard: “built and constructed”) § 15; beholen – bedegled “hidden – concealed” § 26’; frignan – ascian “ask – ask” (Orchard: “question or ask”) §§ 24, 32, 34, 40; feohtan – winnan “fight – fight” (Orchard: “fight – struggle”) § 17; ic…forlet and ne gymde “I had discounted and disregarded”, literally “I neglected and did not care for” § 10 (one of the rare cases where synonymy is achieved by the first word giving a positive statement and the second word being negated); forwyrcean – afyllan “close up – fill up” (Orchard: “to be filled up and replaced with gold”) § 25; gretan – halettan “greet – greet” § 35 (Orchard: “greet – welcome”; perhaps halettan is a little stronger than gretan, in any case it is longer and therefore phonologically weightier); ofercuman – oferswyðan “overcome – overcome” (Orchard: “overcome – conquer”) §§ 7 8; oncyrran – on oϸer hweorfan “change – turn into something else” § 12; ondswarian – cweðan “answer – say” §§ 37, 40 (the sequence was and still is fixed: ModE answer and say); scinan – lixan “shine – shine” (Orchard: “glitter – shine”) § 17; slean – cwellan “kill – kill” (Orchard: “we…slew and killed them”) § 17; settan – geendebyrdan “set – arrange” (Orchard: “set – designate”) § 17 (geendebyrdan is perhaps stronger than settan; in any case it is longer and therefore weightier); seon – ongietan “see – see, perceive” § 15 (ongietan is perhaps stronger than seon; in any case it is longer and therefore weightier: Orchard simplifies this binomial in his translation); slean – cwellan “slay – kill” § 17; wadan – gan (in the text: hit…wod and eode) “go – go” (Orchard: “it went and trod on everything”) § 20.

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Antonyms

Whereas AlexArist has a fair number of synonymous binomials—namely, thirty-nine according to the list given above—the number of clear antonyms is quite small—namely, just two: (a) Substantival binomials: neahdunas – scrafas “neighbouring hills – caves” § 18. (b) Adjectival binomials: god – yfel “good – bad, ill” § 3.

(c) Apparently there are no antonyms among the verbal binomials.

Complementaries

As remarked above, complementary binomials, more precisely binomials the constituents of which stand in a complementary relation, fall into many subgroups. The following list comprises the groups that can be distinguished for AlexArist, but it does not claim completeness. (1) Generally positive binomials

(a) Substantival binomials: willa – weorðmynd “will – honour” § 41 (both words have many shades of meaning, but in any case, the alliteration is striking).

(b) Adjectival binomials: bliðe – gefeonde “glad – rejoicing” (could also be put among the synonymous binomials; Orchard: “pleased – delighted”) § 32; fersc – swete “fresh – sweet (sc. water)” §15; geong – hwæt “young – fit” § 24; gylden – aϸrawen “golden – twisted” § 8; on gehliuran dene and on wearmran “in a milder and warmer valley” § 30; hluter – fæger “clear – beautiful (sc. water)”; hwit – fæger “white – beautiful” § 8 (said of ivory ); micel – mære “big – great” §§ 8, 31 (Orchard translates § 8 as “high and famous”, and § 31 as “what [thing] that be famous and great”); rum – wynsum “spacious – pleasant” § 34; sel – gesund “good – sound, healthy” § 12; smolt – god “peaceful – good” (Orchard: “quiet – peaceful”) § 30; soð – riht “true – right” § 4; swete – fersc “sweet – fresh (sc. water)” (Orchard: “clean fresh water”) § 15; trumlic – fæstlic “firm – firm” (could also be put among the synonymous binomials; Orchard: “mighty – firm”) § 8; wunderlic – mærlic “marvellous – noteworthy” § 26. (c) Verbal binomials: weox and wridode “grew and flourished” § 12.

(2) Generally negative binomials

(a) Substantival binomials: idel spellung – scondlic leasung “empty talk – shameful lies” § 4; gewin – frecennis “struggle – danger” § 2; gewin – comp “struggle – contest” § 4; wenan – ondrædan “expect – fear” § 10 (only the second word is clearly negative; the first becomes negative in context).

(b) Adjectival binomials: biter – grim “bitter – bitter” (could also be put into the group of synonymous binomials; Orchard: “bitter and harsh”) § 13; ruwe – gehærfe “rough – hairy (like beasts)” § 29 (Orchard: “shaggy – hairy”); scondlic – unarlic “shameful – dishonourable” § 40; sweart – ϸystor “dark – shad-

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owy (sc. night)” § 19; ungleaw – unwis “ignorant – ignorant” (could also be put among the synonymous binomials (Orchard: “unfamiliar – unaware”) § 14; uphyrre – gryttre “bigger –mightier” § 18.

(3) Co-hyponyms in a semantic field

(a) Substantival binomials: balzamum – recels “balsam – incense” § 34; bedd – bolster “bed – bolster” § 39; brydburas – heahcleofan “bedrooms – main chambers” § 8; cristallum – smaragdus “crystal – smaragd” § 8; gefera – gefylcea “companion – ally” § 25 (Clark Hall does not list gefylcea; Clark Hall lists (ge)fylce “band of men, army, host”); ferd (~ fyrd) – dugoϸ “army – personal retinue” § 25; fugel – wildeor “bird – wild beast” § 36; nædre – wildeor “serpent – wild beasts” § 9 (apparently there was no hyperonym such as animal); gleawnis – snyttro “wisdom – erudition” (Orchard) §2;24 hos – wæstmas “tendrils – fruits” § 8; hreod – treowcyn “reed – tree (lit. kind of tree)” § 15; iren – lead “iron – lead” § 39; mete – win “food – wine” § 24; moder – geswystor “mother – sisters” several times, e.g., § 2; neahea – mere “near river – lake” § 29; stræl – spere “arrow – spear” § 20; sunna – mona “sun – moon” §§ 3, 32, 36; geswustor – gesibb “sisters – relatives” § 31; geteld – seamas “tents – baggage” § 30 (some of the things that an army has); tungol – ligit “star – lightning” § 11 (things that appear in the sky); ϸegnas – weorod “my thegns – all my troop” § 11 (on the significance of these words, see further subsection 5 below); ϸrym – weorðmynd “power – honour” § 41 (ϸrym has many meanings and accordingly is difficult to translate); weorod – duguϸ “army – noble retainers” (Orchard: “troop – trusted band”) § 12 (see further subsection 5 below); wif – wæpnedmen “women – men” § 34; wop – tearas “weeping – tears” § 40 (the shedding of tears is called weeping); (b) Adjectival binomials: cypressus – laurisc “cypress – laurel” § 8 (two wordclasses: cypressus is a noun, whereas laurisc is an adjective—perhaps cypressus is here taken as an adjective, too); gegyred – geteϸed “armed – toothed” § 28 (strong teeth are a kind of weapon); heard – micel “hard – large (sc. teeth)” § 27 (again, strong teeth are a kind of weapon);

(c) Verbal binomials: we…biwriton and sægdon “we…wrote about and said” § 15; cyϸde – getacnode “told – indicated” (Orchard: “explained – indicated”) § 6; hyhtan – gelyfan “hope – believe” § 4; wægan (wegan) – lædan “carry – lead” § 10 (Orchard: “had brought and carried”); writan – cyϸan “write – tell” § 3.

(4) Whole – part, larger unit – smaller unit

There are just two attestations of the semantic relation “whole – part”, and there are no attestations of the opposite semantic group “part – whole.” 24 Pride and Prodigies, ed. Orchard, translates gleawnis (§ 2) as “knowledge,” but gleawnis (also § 2) as “wisdom”; this shows once more the high degree of polysemy that some OE words have, and how difficult it is to translate them.

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(a) Substantival binomials: bearwas – treowu “groves – trees” § 36; fyr – gledas “fire – coals” § 24 (see the discussion above); ryne – gesetenis “course – position” § 6 (said of the stars); (b)–(c): There are no attestations among the adjectival and verbal binomials.

(5) Part – whole

Apparently, there are no attestations among the binomials in AlexArist.

(6) More specific word – more general word

(a) Substantival binomials: cyning – hlaford “king – lord” § 37, 40 (every king is a lord, but not every lord is a king); hefigness – micelnis “weight – size” § 14; horse – nieteno “horses – animals” § 16 (apparently, horses are here distinguished from all the other animals); ondswaru – word “answer – word” § 24; wæter – wæta “water – moisture” § 10. (b) Apparently, there are no adjectival binomials that fit into this category.

(c) Verbal binomials: he…gegeat and geworhte “he…cast and wrought” § 25; hergian – niman “to plunder – to take” § 10; lædan – brengan (bringan) “lead – bring” § 22; ða wæfon and worhtan “who wove and worked” § 10.

(7) More general word – more specific word

(a) Substantival binomials: eorcnanstanas – carbunculi “precious stones – carbuncles” § 8; fatu – dryncfatu “vessels – drinking-vessels” § 8; in this group belong probably also feor – gesynto “life – health” § 12 (health as an aspect of life); mod – geϸoht “mind – thought” § 38 (Orchard: “heart – thoughts”; OE mod had a wide spectrum of meaning, but here mod and geϸoht are apparently taken as two places where thinking is done); wæta – regn “moisture – rainfall” §36; wildeor – wyrm “wild beast – serpent” §§ 26, 33. (b) Adjectival binomials: deadberend – ætern “deadly – poisonous” § 18.

(c) Verbal binomials: eodon – scluncon “went – crawled” (Orchard: “came – slithered”); faran – swimman “go – swim” § 15; fyllan – ofbeatan “fell – kill” (Orchard: “beat – subdue”). § XX; wæs gegerwed and bewrigen “[he] was clothed and enwrapped” (Orchard: “was wrapped and covered”) § 39; seon – sceawian “see – look” (Orchard: “see – witness”) §§ 2, 3, 26 (sceawian is more active and intensive than seon).

(8) Less strong – stronger

(a) Substantival binomials: hamer – slecge “hammer – sledgehammer” (Orchard: “with iron mallets and sledge-hammers”; a sledgehammer is bigger and heavier than a hammer) § 27; wynsumness – fægerness “loveliness – beauty” § 34.

(b) Adjectival binomials: lað – yfel “loathsome – evil” § 21 (lað could perhaps also be regarded as more subjective, and yfel as more objective).

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(c) Verbal binomials: swencan – wæcan “to trouble – to weaken” §§12, 13 (Orchard: “vexed – afflicted”); wiscan (wyscan) – willan “wish – want” § 4.

(8a) Larger – smaller: lond – stow “land – place” (a land is probably bigger than a place) § 14. (9) Cause or source – result

The groups (9) and (10) cannot always be clearly separated because “cause and result” usually also implies a temporal sequence.

(a) Substantival binomials: leoht – fullast “light – comfort” § 16; wind – gebræc “wind – destruction” (Orchard: “wind – bluster”) § 30 (destruction as a result of a strong wind); swiðe sweart wolcen – genip “a very black cloud – darkness” § 30 (darkness as the result of a very black cloud). (b) Adjectival binomials: wunderlic – egeslic “marvellous – fearsome” (the strangeness causing fear) § 18.

(c) Verbal binomials: bitan – wundian “bite – wound” § 21 (the wound as a result of being bitten); forwurdon and deade wæron “they perished and were dead” § 31 (being dead as a result of perishing); hyran – ongietan “hear – understand” § 24 (understanding as a result of hearing); gehyrted – gestilled “encouraged – calmed” (Orchard: “heartened – calmed”) §12.

(10) Sequence of actions or events

A sequence of actions or events is mainly expressed by verbs, but there is also a substantival binomial which can be interpreted as a temporal sequence. (a) Substantival binomials: gelis – gleawnis “learning and knowledge” (Orchard’s translation; if we follow this translation, knowledge is a result of learning) § 2;

(b) Apparently, there are no adjectival binomials which express or imply a sequence of events.

(c) Verbal binomials: niman – alædan “take – carry away” § 10; slitan – blodgian “to slit – to make bloody” § 15; slitan – teoran “slit – tear” § 18 (Orchard: “they ripped and tore”); upteon – teran “to draw up – to tear” § 21 (Orchard: “they snatched up – ripped to pieces”); writan – sendan “write – send” § 1; wundian – teran “wound – tear” § 19 – in the examples from §§ 15, 18, 21, 19, the second verb is also stronger than the first verb.

(11) Identity of reference

There is just one attestation among the substantival binomials: kyning – Macedonisc “king – Macedonian” § 1 (referring to Alexander the Great).

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(12) Other relations

Some binomials are difficult to classify from a semantic point of view; here belongs fen – fæsten: fen is perhaps regarded as a fastness, because access to a fen is difficult, but alliteration certainly also plays a role in this binomial.

Multinomials

Many multinomials take the shape of lists; many are concerned with natural phenomena and with animals; see the Appendix. It is not possible to apply the semantic categories used so far to the multinomials in AlexArist. Other Semantic Groups: Alexander’s Army and his Body-Guard

Another way of classifying binomials would be to assign them to semantic fields. As just mentioned, animals and natural phenomena play an important role in AlexArist, and, since Alexander is marching with an army, terms which describe his army and his soldiers are also frequent. For Alexander’s soldiers and his army, the OE translator of AlexArist uses four different words, namely ferd (= fyrd), weorod, dugoϸ, ϸegnas. If they are used in binomials or multinomials, the binomials are mostly additions to the Latin text or expansions of the Latin text; the Latin text uses milites or exercitus or agmen. It seems that the author of AlexArist often makes a distinction between Alexander’s general army and a kind of special group of soldiers, the inner circle of his army, possibly his bodyguard. Perhaps the latter is a reflex of the comitatus, which is mentioned by Tacitus and still reflected in the OE poem The Battle of Maldon. The historic battle of Maldon took place in 991, the poem can only have been composed after the battle, whereas AlexArist was probably translated much earlier, perhaps in the second half of the ninth century; see pp. 95–97 above. This distinction between the general army (ferd, weorod) and the comitatus or body-guard (dugoϸ, ϸegnas) could reflect aspects of the Anglo-Saxon military organization that are absent in the Latin original of AlexArist.

Dialect Vocabulary

As mentioned above (p. 96), AlexArist is an Anglian text that was probably translated in the second half of the ninth century.25 One question therefore is whether there is any Anglian dialect vocabulary in the binomials of AlexArist. Taking the research by Wenisch 1979 as a basis, there are three binomials in AlexArist that contain typically Anglian words; namely, frignan – axian (§§ 24 etc), gegerwed – bewrigen (§39), scinan – lixan § 17.26 According to Wenisch (1979, 181f., 156–60, 252), lixan “shine, gleam” is a typically Anglian word, whereas the development of frignan “to ask” and gerwan (gierwan) “to clothe” was a little 25 It should perhaps be mentioned that king Alfred himself and some of his helpers spoke and wrote West-Saxon, but that Anglian (Mercian) was also tolerated at his court. Waerferth of Worcester, one of his helpers, wrote in Anglian (and presumably also spoke Anglian). 26 On the Anglian vocabulary of AlexArist, see also Sisam, Studies in the History of Old English Literature, 89.

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more complicated. They were originally common Old English words, but later (after the ninth century) they were only used in Anglian. This means that for the translator of AlexArist they may have still been common OE words and not yet typically Anglian words—how far he was aware of dialect differences in the vocabulary is difficult to tell. But for the WestSaxon copyist around 1000, lixan, frignan and gerwan must have been Anglian words, which he nevertheless retained—perhaps they were protected through their use in a binomial.

Sequence of Elements

There has been a lot of debate about the sequence of the words in binomials and possible reasons for a specific sequence; see especially Sandra Mollin (The (Ir)reversibility of English Binomials) in 2014. Three main reasons have emerged, namely:

(a) The more important element precedes the less important element (semantic reason).

(b) The shorter element precedes the longer element (phonologic-morphologic reason). One general problem with OE binomials is that the number of syllables in a word may be different in the basic form and in inflected forms.

(c) The sequence of the model is imitated. But because many binomials in the OE AlexArist are expansions or additions in comparison with the Latin model, I have disregarded this aspect.

Even if we regard only reasons (a) and (b), and disregard reason (c), no clear picture emerges. Moreover, sometimes the criterion of length and the criterion of importance coincide, but sometimes they clash. There is only one binomial where the clearly more important element precedes the somewhat less important element—namely, cyning (kyning) – hlaford “king – lord”—but both words are of equal length (2 syllables – 2 syllables). There are many binomials where the longer element follows the shorter element, but there are also examples to the contrary—namely, the longer element preceding the shorter element—moreover, there are many examples where both words of a binomial are of equal length (counting syllables). That the shorter word precedes the longer word can therefore be seen as a tendency, but not as a rule. Examples of the shorter element preceding the longer element are: bedd – bolster (1 syllable – 2 syllables; also: the larger item precedes the smaller item); bisgum – geswencnissum (2 – 4); fatu – dryncfatu (2 – 3; also: the more general item precedes the more specific item); fen – fæsten (1 – 2); for – siðfæt (1 – 2); ferd (sc. fyrd) – dugoϸ (1 – 2); feores – gesynto (2 – 3); hreod – treowcynn. In some cases, the prefix ge- adds to the number of syllables, and in some cases the first word is a simplex, whereas the second word is a compound. But there are also binomials where the longer word precedes the shorter word, e.g.: balzamum – recels (3 – 2); herebeacen – segnas (4 – 2); ondswaro – worda (3 – 2). Furthermore, there are many binomials where the two words are of equal length, at least in the form in which they occur in the text, e.g., bearwas – treowu (2 – 2), gefera – gefylcea (3 – 3), æt fyre and æt gledum (2 – 2), mete – wines (2 – 2).

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Some binomials have a fixed sequence; for example, it is always frignan – axian “ask – ask”, ondswarian – cweðan, ondswarian – secgan “answer – say,” that is, frignan and ondswarian always come first. Some words are always the first elements in a binomial, not only ondswarian “answer,” but also wunderlic: wunderlic – egeslic, wunderlic – mærlic. Yfel “evil, bad” always comes second: lað – yfel § 21; god – yfel § 32. It comes as no surprise that “good” precedes “evil”; that “evil” follows lað “loath, hateful” is more difficult to explain. As mentioned above, yfel was perhaps stronger than lað and felt to be more objective. Other words occur as first elements but also as second elements; for example, wildeor, which comes first in wildeor – wyrm, but second in fugel – wildeor; similarly, lædan comes second in wægon – læddon (§§ 10, 13), but first in gelæddon – gebrohton (§ 22); swete comes first in swete – fersc, but second in fersc – swete; in both cases the binomial refers to water.

Formulaic Binomials and Flexible Use of Binomials

Binomials can be formulaic, but they can also be created on the spur of the moment. In AlexArist both kinds of binomials are represented. I regard binomials that occur more often than once as formulaic, at least for AlexArist, but a binomial such as “sun – moon” has probably existed as a formula throughout the history of English. Because AlexArist is perhaps one of the earliest OE prose texts, it is impossible to say which formulaic binomials the translator of AlexArist inherited. In the following, I list those binomials that occur twice or even more frequently – I regard those as formulaic; see the Appendix for details. (1) Four occurrences

“ask – ask” (frignan – axian)

“mother – sisters” (modor – geswystor) “sun – moon” (sunne – mona) (2) Three occurrences:

cyning – hlaford “king – lord”

ondswarian – cweðan “answer – say” (3) Two occurrences: (a) nouns:

gefeoht – gewin nædre – wildeor sæ – garsecg geswencnis – earfeð wildeor – wyrm

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(b) adjectives (none)

(c) verbs: see frignan – axian above, but there are no verbal binomials that occur twice.

The frequency of “mother – sisters” fits in with the observation that names of relationship are among the frequent binomials; cf. Tyrkkö 2017, 304 ff.27

Results and Insights

I regard the use of binomials as a stylistic feature that contributes to a weighty style, to a copia verborum; I do not regard binomials as an unnecessary doubling of words.28 Compared with other texts that I have analyzed, the use of binomials in AlexArist has not been carried to excess. The use of binomials is a stylistic feature that many English authors and translators have employed (but not all). English versions of Latin texts usually have more binomials than their Latin models, which allows the conclusion that English authors and translators were fonder of binomials than scholars or poets who wrote in Latin. The analysis of the binomials in AlexArist confirms that the most frequent morphological subgroup are the substantival binomials, followed by adjectival and verbal binomials. In AlexArist verbal binomials are, however, clearly more frequent than adjectival binomials. From an etymological viewpoint the binomials in AlexArist still show a largely Germanic vocabulary; there are few binomials that contain Latin loan-words. There are many semantic subgroups and a semantic classification is often more difficult than a morphological or etymological classification. A striking feature is that synonymous binomials are relatively frequent in AlexArist, whereas the number of antonymous binomials is very small. The complementary binomials constitute the largest semantic group. Some binomials were used as formulae, others were probably coined on the spur of the moment. Binomials such as “sun – moon” and “answer – say” (ondswarian – cweðan) have probably been formulaic throughout the history of English; but many binomials occur just once in AlexArist and were perhaps coined by the translator of AlexArist.29

27 Jukka Tyrkkö, “Binomials in English Novels in the Late Modern Period: Fixedness, Formulaicity and Style,” in Binomials in the History of English: Fixed and Flexible, ed. Joanna Kopczyk, and Hans Sauer, Studies in English Language (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2017), 296–321. Tyrkkö analyzes only substantival binomials. It would, of course, be interesting to see what the result for adjectival and verbal binomials are in the material that he has analyzed. 28 In accordance with Pride and Prodigies, ed. Orchard.

29 My thanks are due to Kerstin Majewski for helping me with the final version of this article.

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Appendix

Binomials and multinomials in the Old English Letter of Alexander to Aristoteles (AlexArist) The prefix ge- is ignored in the alphabetization. Substantival binomials (noun + noun)

Substantivized adjectives are listed among the adjectives 1a) adder: see nædre

1b) andswaru: see ondswaru

1) balzamum – recels: and balzamum and recels ðær wæs genihtsumnis “and balsam and incense were there in abundance” § 34; L ture et oppobalsamo inmenso habundabat (translation: ture et oppobalsamo “balzamum and recels”)

2) bearu – treow: geond ϸa bearwas and treowu “through the groves and trees” § 36; L totum…nemus (expansion: nemus – ϸa bearwas and treowu)

3) bedd – bolster: buton bedde and bolstre “without any bed or bolster” § 39; L accubantes et quiescentes sine ullis ceruicalibus stratis (simplification of L binomial; addition of OE binomial)

4) bisgu – geswencnis: Eac ϸæm oϸrum bisgum and geswencnissum “In addition to the other trials and difficulties” § 20; L Una praeterea (addition)

5) brydburas – heahcleofan “bedrooms – main chambers”: § 8 His brydburas and his heahcleofan; L Thalami cubiliaque (translation) 6) cristallum – smaragdus “crystal – emerald”: cristallum and smaragdus § 8; L chrystallini…smaragdis (translation)

7) cyning – Macedonisc “king – Macedonian”: ϸæs miclan kyninges ond ϸæs mæran Macedoniscan § 1: Alexandri regis magni Macedonis (expansion)

8) cyning – “king – lord” (three times):

(i) ϸu weorðest cyning and hlaford ealles middangeardes “you shall become king and lord of all the world” § 37; L unus eris orbis terrarum dominus (expansion: dominus – cyning and hlaford);

(ii) ðu geweorðest an cyning and hlaford ealles middangeardes “you shall be sole king and lord of the whole world” § 40; L tu autem…dominus tames orbis terrarum eris (expansion: dominus – cyning…hlaford);

(iii) mec ealles middangeardes kyning and hlaford “me, the king and lord of the entire world” § 31; L me regem totius orbis terrarum (expansion: regem – kyning and hlaford).

9) eorcnanstan – carbunculus “gemstone – carbuncle” § 8: wærom eorcnanstanum

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10) fatu – dryncfatu “vessels – drinking-cups”: monig fatu gimmiscu and cristallisce dryncfatu and gyldne sestras “And many jewelled vessels and crystal drinkingcups and golden pitchers” § 8; L Multa gemmea et crystallina electrina uasa potaria et sextariosa… (relatively literal translation; I also regard gimmiscu – cristallisce as a binomial, see below)

11) fen – fæsten: of ϸæm fenne and of ðæm fæstene “out of the fen and fastness” §27 12) gefeoht – gewin (twice):

(i) we…ongeaton maran gefeoht toweard and mare gewin “We then…realized that more battles and more struggles lay ahead” §23; L noua conspirantes bella cognoueram (expansion: bella: maran gefeoht…and mare gewin);

(ii) he…truwode ϸonne his gefeohte and gewinne “he trusted more…than in his own martial prowess” § 24.

13) feor – gesynto: he…mines feores anad gesyngto wilnade “he cared…for my life and health” § 12; L animaeque meae…consulebat (expansion) 14) for and siðfæt “path and journey” § 14; L iter (expansion)

15) gefera – gefylcea: he…wæs min gefera and gefylcea “he became…my companion and ally” § 25; L— (addition)

16) ferd (for fyrd) – dugoϸ: mid eall his ferde and dugoϸe “with all his army and personal retinue” § 25; L— (addition) 17) fugel – wildeor (twice):

(i) ne fugel ne wildeor “nor bird, nor wild beast” § 36; L neque feram aut auem… (translation); (ii) fuglum to mete and wildeorum “food for birds and wild animals”

18) fyr – gled: æt fyre and æt gledum “at the fire and coals” § 24; L dux noster in tabernaculo accenso ignis calere refecit (expansion: ignis – fyr, gled)

19) gelis – gleawnis: “your learning and knowledge”: ϸin gelis and gleawnis § 2; L studio et ingenio (translation) 20) gleawnis – snyttro: “wisdom – erudition”: seo gefylde gleawnis and snyttro § 2; L prudentia (expansion)

21) gryt – micelnyss: ungemetlicre gryto and micelnysse “of huge size and stature” § 12: L robora uincens grossitudine (free rendering)

22) hamer – sledge “hammer – sledgehammer”: ac we hit…mid isernum hamerum and slecgum gefyldon and hit ofbeoton “we beat it and subdued it with iron mallets and sledge-hammers” § 27; L Quam ferreis uix umquam comminuimus malleis (expansion)

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23) hefigness – micelniss: ϸa hefignesse and micelnisse ðara wæpna “the weight and size of their weapons” § 14; L armatis (addition)

24) herebeacen and segnas “war-banners and standards” § 11; L cum signis et uexillis (translation)

25) ure hors and ure nieteno “all our horses and our animals” § 16; L pecora et iumenta (change of animals) 26) hos – wæstmas “tendrils – fruits” § 8: and his hos and his wæstmas; L folia erant aurea racemique (change)

27) hrægl – gerela: mid uncuϸe hrægle and mid lyϸerlice gerelan “in unfamiliar garb and lowly clothes” § 24; L sumpto itaque habitu militari depositoque meo cultu solito (free translation and expansion: sumpto…habitu militari: mid uncuϸe hrægle and mid lyϸerlice gerelan) 28) hreod – treowcynn “reed – tree”: mid ϸy hreode and treowcynne “from the reeds and trees” § 15; L ex his arundinibus (expansion)

29) hysct – bismer: on hyscte and on bismer “in ridicule and mockery” § 33; L illudi (expansion: illudi – on hyscte and on bismer)

30) iron – lead: irenes and leades ϸa men…wædliað “the people…are poor in iron and lead” § 39; L…ferro et plumbo…(translation) 30a) kyning: see cyning

31) lāð – yfel: ϸa fuglas us nænige laðe ne yfle ne wæron “These birds…caused no harm or ill to any of us” § 21; L nullam nobis pernicien inferentes (expansion: perniciem: lāð – yfel)

32) light etc.: ϸæt we hæfdon æt ϸæm fyre leoht and fullaste “that…we should have the light and comfort of the fires” § 16; L ignes accensi (free translation)

33) lond – stow: ϸa lond and stowe “those lands and places” § 14; L loca (expansion)

34) mete – win “food – wine”: me wære metes and wines ϸearf “in need of food and wine” § 24; L uini et carnis quiddam empturus (translation)

35) modor – geswystor “mother – sisters” (four times):

(i) to minre meder and geswystrum §2: matrem meam sororesque (translation);

(ii) minre meder and minum geswustrum § 5: matri meae sororibusque meis (translation);

(iii) to Olimphiade minre meder, and minum geswustrum “to Olymias my mother, and to my sisters” § 37; L ad Olimpiadem matrem sororesque meas carissimas (translation);

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(iv) min modor oϸðe min geswuster “my mother or my sisters” § 40; L: mater mea sororesque (translation)

36) mod – geϸoht: Ða ϸohte ic on minum, mode and on minum geϸohte “Then I thought in my heart and in my thoughts” § 38; L: consulens igitur (expansion) 37) nædre – wildeor “serpent – wild beast” (twice): § 9:

(i) ϸa missenlican cynd nædrena and hrifra wildeora “the various kinds of serpents and savage wild beasts”; L serpentes et rabida ferarum genera (translated binomial); (ii) ϸa unarefndlican cyn nædrena and hrifra wildeora “intolerable varieties of serpents and savage wild beasts” § 10; L exitabilia serpentium et rabida ferarum beluarumque genera (translation with some simplification)

38) neahdunas – scrafas “neighbouring hills and caves” § 18: of ϸæm neahdunum and scrafum “from the neighbouring hills and caves”; L ex uicinis montium speluncis (transformation of a L phrase into an OE binomial) 39) neahea – mere: hie of ðæm neaheum and merum “from the neighbouring rivers and lakes” § 29; L ebigmaritis fluminis (ebigmaritis is probably a mistake; expansion)

40) ondswaru – word: ϸara minra ondswaro and worda “these words and answers of mine” § 24; L— (free translation; addition) 41) oroð – eϸung “breath – exhalation”: Wæs ϸæra wyrma oroð and eϸung swiðe deadberende and æterne “The breath and exhalation of the serpents was very deadly and poisonous” §18; L quorum alitus quoque erat pestifer (expansion)

42) ryne – gesetenis: be tungla rynum and gesetenissum “about…the courses of the stars and configurations” § 6; L— (addition) 43) sæ – garsecg “sea – ocean”: ϸæt se sæ wære to ϸon ϸiostre and se garsecg eall “that the sea and all the ocean was too dark” § 26; L Quem quoniam tenebrosum uadosumque mihi locorum incolae affirmabant (simplification in OE of a L binomial; introduction of a new binomial)

44) spellung – leasung “empty talk – shameful lies”: idel spellung oϸϸe scondlic leasung § 4; L ne aut fabule aut turpi mendacio dignus (translation with addition)

45) stræl – spere: we hit…mid strælum and eac mit longsceaftum sperum “And we… shot at it with arrows and also with long-shafted spears” § 20; L uixque ipsis defixa uenabulis (expansion) 46) sun – moon (three times):

(i) ϸa tu trio sunnan and monan “the two sacred trees of the Sun and Moon” § 32; L arbores sacras solis et lunae (translation: solis et lunae – sunnan and monan);

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(iia) ða halgan gemæro sunnan and monan “The holy precincts of the Sun and the Moon” § 36 (aa); L: sacrae arbores (addition: sacrae arbores – ða halgan trio sunnan and monan); (iib) ϸæt sunna and mone “that the Sun and Moon” § 36 (bb); L— (addition)

47) geswencnis – earfeð (twice in the same paragraph):

(i) ϸara ϸinga ϸe us on becwomon swa monigra geswencnissa and earfeðo “in the face of those things that afflicted us in the shape of so many difficulties and hardships” § 19; L ne aduersis casibus cederent nene deficerent animo in periculis (expansion); (ii) us wæs swælc geswencnis and swilc earfeϸo “but there had been such difficulty and hardship” § 19; L in nos impetum faciunt (expansion)

48) to minum geswustrum and gesibbum “to my sisters and relatives” (Orchard: “to my sisters and family”); L— (addition)

49) geteld – seamas: Ða het ic gesomnigan eft ϸa geteld and seamas ealle tosomne “Then I ordered all the tents and baggage to be gathered together again” § 30; L— (expansion; free translation)

50) tungol – ligit “star – lightning”: on ϸa gelicnesse tungles oððe ligite “like stars or lightning” § 11; L— (addition)

51) unmætnis – micelnis: ic ϸa unmætnisse and micelnisse ðæs snawes “When I saw the extent and depth of the snow” § 30; L Quarum aggerationem intueris (expansion: aggerationem – ϸa unmætnisse and micelnisse)

52) thegn – weorod: ϸa mine ϸegnas and eal min weorod “my thegns and al my troop” § 11; L miles (expansion)

53) ϸrym – weorðmynd: min ϸrym and min weorðmynd “my power and my honour” § 41; L— (free translation; addition) 54) unretu – nearonis: on swa micelre modes unreto and nearonisse “in such distress and anxiety of heart” § 38; L— (addition)

55) wæta – regn: wætan and regnum “on account of much moisture and rainfall” § 36; L frequentibus imbribus (expansion: imbribus – wætan and regnum) 56) wæter – wæta “water – moisture” § 10: ϸurh ϸa wædlan stowe wætres and ælcere wætan “through…the rough places devoid of water or any moisture”; L egentia humoris loca (expansion) 57) weg – siðfæt: wegas and siðfato “routes and paths” § 23 (cf. also for and siðfæt, § 19)

58) min weorod and ealle mine duguϸe “all my troop and all my trusted band” § 12; L conuocato exercitu (expansion)

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59) wildeor – wyrm (twice):

(i) ða wæron monnum ungeferde for wildeorum and wyrmum “which were impassable for men because of wild beasts and serpents” §26; L in quibus elephanti et serpentes esse dicebantur (L binomial rendered by OE binomial, but free translation: elephanti et serpentes: for wildeorum and wyrmum);

(ii) ϸa unarefndon lond wildeora and wyrma “land unbearable with wild beasts and serpents” § 33; L per tot serpentum ferarumque loca…De quibus feris et serpentibus (literal translation, but just once: serpentum ferarumqe – wildeora and wyrma)

60) wif – wæpnedmen: ægϸer ge wif ge wæpnedmen “both women and men” § 34; L feminas uirosque (literal translation)

61) mines willan and weorðmyndo “concerning my will and my honour” § 41; L— (addition; free translation) 62) gewin – frecennis “struggle – danger” § 2: ϸurh monigfeald gewin and ϸurh micle frecennisse; L per summos labores ac pericula (translation) 63) gewin – comp “struggle – contest” § 4: be ϸære micelnisse ures gewinnes and compes; L gloriam militiae nostrae (expansion)

64) wind – gebræc: swiðe micel wind and gebræc “a very mighty wind and bluster” § 30; L cum repente Euri uenti tanta uis flantis exorta est (expansion; free translation)

65) wolcen – genip: swiðe sweart wolcen and genip “a very black cloud and darkness” (Orchard: “the sky grew very black and dark”) § 30; L atra nubes (expansion: atra nubes – swiðe sweart wolcen and genip)

66) wop – tear: ϸurh heora wop and tearas “by their weeping and tears” § 40; L fletus et ululatus noster (translation) 67) gewrit – epistola: ða sealde he me an gewrit and ænne epistolan “he gave me a document and a letter” § 24; L Tradidit mihi minis plenam epistolam (expansion)

68) wundor and wæfersien “wonder and spectacle” (Orchard: “The sight and spectacle”) § 11; L spectaculum (expansion)

69) wynsumness – fægerness: ic ða wynsumnesse and fægernesse…wundrade “I was amazed at the loveliness and beauty” § 34; L— (addition)

70) wyrd – hiow: seo wyrd and sio hiow “fate and fortune” § 12; L fortuna (expansion)

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Adjectival Binomials (adjective + adjective; including some substantivized adjectives) 1) biter – grim: ða wæs hit biterre and grimre o drincanne… “it was more bitter and harsh to drink…” § 13; L amariore elleborae fluminis aquam gustaui (expansion: amariore – biterre and grimre)

2) bliðe – gefeonde: Ða wæs ic swiðe bliðe and gefeonde “Then I was very pleased and delighted” § 32; L Tum ego quo facto laetus (expansion: laetus – bliðe and gefeonde)

3) cypressus – laurisc: cypressus styde and laurisce hie utan wreϸedon “and posts of cypress and laurel supported them the outside” § 8; L— (free translation; expansion) 4) deadberend – ætern: Wæs ϸæra wyrma oroð and eϸung swiðe deadberende and æterne “The breath and exhalation of the serpents was very deadly and poisonous” § 18; L uorum alitus quoque erat pestifer (expansion)

5) fersc – swete (twice):

(i) ϸæt hie us fersc wæter and swete getæhton “to find out about clean fresh water” (Orchard), lit. “that they should show us fresh water and sweet” § 15; L ut dulcem ignaris aquam demonstrarent (expansion; split binomial);

(ii) fersc wæter and swete genog “clean fresh water” (Orchard); lit. “fresh water and sweet enough” § 16; L dulcissimae aquae (expansion; split binomial)

6) geong – hwæt: ic eom me self geong and hwæt “I myself am young and fit” § 24; L— (free translation; addition) 7) god – yfel “good – evil”:

(i) hwæt godes oϸðe yfles “what good or ill” §32; L quae tibi instent bona aut mala nosse poteris (literal translation: bona aut mala – hwæt godes oϸðe yfles); (ii) cf. also: oϸϸe godra ϸinga cenne, oððe eft ϸara yfelra § 3; L aut bonarum rerum pariat aut malarum (translation)

8) gylden – aϸrawen “golden – twisted” § 8: and gyldne styϸeo and aϸrawene; L et testudinibus cupressinis quibus lauri…erant (expansion, free translation) 9) empty;

10) gegyred – geteϸed: heardum toϸum and miclum hit wæs gegyred and geteϸed “it was armed and toothed with hard and large teeth” § 27; L duris munitum dentibus (expansion; geteϸed: bahuvrihi adj)

11) heard – micel: heardum toðum and miclum “with hard and large teeth” § 27; L duris munitum dentibus (expansion: duris: mid heardum…and miclum)

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12) on gehliuran dene and on wearmran “in a milder and warmer valley” § 30; L— (expansion; free translation; split binomial)

13) hluter – fæger: hluter wæter and fæger “clear and beautiful water” § 39; L Puram ex uicino monte potant aquam homines (expansion: puram – hluter…fæger)

14) hwit – fæger “white – fair” § 8: ϸa wæron wunderlice hwite and fægere “they were… wonderfully white and fair”; L fores eburneae miri candoris fuerunt (expansion)

15) micel – mære “big – famous” (twice, with different order):

(i) ϸa miclan and ϸa mæron dune “the high and famous mountain” § 31; L promuntoria…montes (free translation);

(ii) hwæt ϸæt sie mærlices and micellices “what it is of note and importance…’ (Orchard); lit. “what [thing] that be famous and great” § 32; L tam illustre et tam magnificum (translation)

16) monifeald – missenlic “manifold and of various kinds” § 8: monifealdlicu hie wæron and missenlicra cynna “they were manifold and of various kinds”; L— (addition; free translation)

17) ruh – gehære “rough – hairy”: wæpned men wæron hie swa ruwe 7 swa gehære swa wildeor “men who were as shaggy and hairy as beasts” § 29; L mulieres uirosque pilosos in modum ferarum toto corpore uidimus (expansion)

18) rum – wynsum: Wæs seo stow rum and wynsumo “The place was spacious and pleasant” § 34; L Locus autem erat largus (extension: largus – rum and wynsumo) 19) scondlic – unarlic: ϸurh scondlicne deað and unarlicne “a shameful and lowly death” § 40; L turpissimo miserandoque exitu (translation; split binomial in OE)

20) sel – gesund: on ϸæm selran ϸingum and on ϸæm gesundrum “in better and sounder things” § 12; L in secundis rebus (expansion)

21) smolt – god: we hæfdon smolte niht and gode “we had a quiet and peaceful night” § 30; L Nox serena continuo reddita est nobis orantibus (expansion: Nox serena – smolte niht and gode; split binomial)

22) soð – riht “true – right”: ϸæt gemerce soðes and rihtes “within the boundaries of what is true and right” § 4 (addition)

23) sweart – ϸystor: in ϸære sweartan niht and in ϸære ϸystran “in that dark and shadowy night” § 19; L cumulante caeca nocte (expansion; split binomial)

24) swete – fersc “sweet – fresh”: ϸæs swetan wætres and ϸæs ferscan “clean fresh water” (Orchard), lit. “the sweet water and the fresh”; L dulci aqua (expansion; split binomial); cf. fersc wæter and swete § 15; fersc wæter and swete genog § 16

25) trumlic – fæstlice “mighty – firm” § 8: gyldenne wingeard trumlicne and fæstlice; L— (addition)

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26) ungleaw – unwis “unfamiliar and unaware”: we…ungleawe and unwise wæron “we were unfamiliar and unaware” § 14; L— (addition)

27) uphyrre – gryttre: wæron hie…uphyrran and gryttran “they were…even bigger and mightier” § 18; L serpentes indicio columnarum grossitudine (free translation; expansion) 28) wunderlic – egeslic “marvellous – fearsome”: nædran eft wunderlicran ϸonne ða oϸre wæron and egeslicran “serpents still more marvellous and more fearsome than the others” § 18; L— (free translation; addition; split binomial) 29) wunderlic – mærlic (twice):

(i) Þa ferdon we forð and woldan ma wunderlicra ϸinga geseon and sceawian and mærlicra “Then we went forth and wished to see and witness more marvellous and noteworthy things” § 26; L Ultra deinde progressuri, si quid memorabile cerneremus (addition; expansion);

(ii) noht wunderlices ne mærlices “nothing marvellous or extraordinary” § 29; L nihil dignum spectaculo ab Indis ultra superesse ferebatur (expansion)

29a) young: see geong

Verbal Binomials (verb + verb) 1) aberan and alædan “bring away and lead away” (Orchard: “bring and carry”) § 11; L ferre (expansion)

2) aberan – aræfnian: Ðone ϸurst we…abæron and aræfndon “We bore and suffered that thirst” § 12; L Quam cum…sustineremeus (expansion) 3) adwæscan – acwencan: ϸa fyr eall wæron forneah adwæscte and acwencte “almost all the fires were quenched and put out” § 30; L prodebantur et ignes aliquatenus, qui niue paene erant extincti (expansion: extincti: adwæscte and acwencte) 3a) answer – say: see ondswarian

4) aset – geworht: Wæs seo burh…asett and geworht “The village was built and constructed” § 15; L oppidum…erat aedificatum (expansion)

5) behelan – bediglian: ϸy læs me owiht in ϸæm londe beholen oððe bedegled wære “in case anything in that land had been hidden or concealed from me” § 26; L ne quid mihi in ignotis subtraheretur locis (expansion: subtraheretur: beholen oððe bedegled wære)

6) bitan – wundian: Ða…ure feϸerfotnietenu bitan and wundedon “which bit and wounded our four-footed animals” § 21; L quorum morsu uulnerata quadrupedia statim exspirabant (expansion: morsu – bitan and wundedon) 7) biwritan – secgan: we ær biwriton and sægdon “which we have written about and describe already” § 15; L quas paulo ante descripsimus (expansion)

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8) cyϸan – getacnian “explain – indicate”: ic ϸe cyϸde and getacnode § 6; L significaueram (expansion)

9) eodon – scluncon: Eodon ϸa wyrmas and wundorlice “The serpents came and slithered in an extraordinary fashion”, lit. “The serpents went and crept strangely” § 18; L (free translation; addition; split binomial) 10) faran – swimman: hie…to ϸære byrig foron 7 swumman “they swum over…to that island” (Orchard has simplified the binomial); lit. “they…went and swum to that village”; L nataturos (expansion)

11) feohtan – winnan “fight – struggle”: ϸæt we swa wið ϸam wyrmum fuhtan and wunnan “that we were fighting and struggling with the serpents” § 17; L Que res nos…sollicitos tenuit (different wording; expansion) 12) frignan – ascian: Ac ne frign ðu…ne axa “But do not question or ask” § 40; L ne nos ulterius scisciteris (expansion: scisciteris – frign…axa)

13) fyllan – ofbeatan: ac we hit gefyldon and hit ofbeoton “but…we beat it and subdued it” (Orchard), probably rather “but we felled it and killed it” § 27; (addition; free translation)

14) forlet – ne gymde: For ϸon ic ær forlet and ne gymde ϸara nytlicra geϸeahta minra freonda “For I had discounted and disregarded the useful advice of my friends” § 10; L quo utilia consilia spreueram amicorum (expansion) 15) hie forwurdon and deade wæron “they perished and were dead” § 31; L qui inter niues perierunt (expansion: perierunt – forwurdon and deade wæron)

16) forwyrcean – afyllan: ða het ic…ϸa ðyrelo…mid golde forwyrcean and afyllan “then I ordered the holes…to be filled up and replaced with gold” § 25; L et simili metallo compleui (expansion; free translation)

17) frignan – axian (four times):

(i) he ϸæs frægen and axsode “he asked and inquired” § 24; L interrogabant (expansion: interrogabant or rather interrogabat: frægen and axsode);

(ii) ϸa frægn he me and ahsode “he asked me and inquired” § 24; L Porus sciscitans me interrogauit (translation of L participle and verb into OE verb + verb);

(iii) Ða frægn ic hie and ahsode “Then I asked them and inquired” § 32; L Quos cum interrogarem (expansion: interrogarem – frægn…ahsode);

(iv) ic ϸa frægn hie and ahsode “I asked them and inquired” § 34; L a quibus cum requireremus (expansion: requireremus – frægn…ahsode)

17a) gan: see eodon;

18) geotan – wyrcan: he butra of golde gegeat and geworhte “And he had cast and wrought in gold statues of the two gods Hercules and Bacchus” § 25;

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19) gegerwed – bewrigen: se bisceop…wæs gegerwed and bewrigen… “the bishop was…wrapped and covered…” § 39; L sacerdos uelatus pellibus ferinis (expansion: uelatus – gegerwed and bewrigen)

20) gretan – halettan: ða grette he me sona and halette “he greeted me immediately, and welcomed me” § 35; L et cum nos more suo salutaret (expansion: salutaret – grette…halette) 21) hergian – niman: ϸæt hie gehergad and genumen hæfdon “that they had plundered and taken” § 10; L ex rapina (change of word-class and expansion)

22) hyhtan – gelyfan “hope and believe”: Nu ic hwæϸre gehyhte and gelyfe § 4; L spero (expansion) 23) hyran – ongietan: ϸæt ge gehyrdon ond ongeaton “so that you can hear and understand” § 24; L ut…miraremini (expansion; free translation)

24) gehyrted – gestilled: werod gehyrted and gestilled wæs “my troop was heartened and calmed” § 12; L Quae res cum animaequiorem fecisset exercitum (expansion)

25) lǣdan – brengan, bringan: hie…us on gelæddon and gebrohton “into which they had…led and brought us” § 22; L— (free translation; addition) 26) lehtan – celan: ða wolde ic minne ϸurst lehtan and celan “I wanted to ease and cool my thirst” § 13; L ipse sitim leuare cupiens (expansion) 27) niman – alædan: ϸæt hiora fynd hit ϸonne deagollice genomon and onweg aleddon “that their enemies would secretly take it and carry it away” § 10; L ne occulti hostes sua ablaturi uictoribus insidiarentur (expansion) 28) ofercuman – oferswyðan “overcome and conquer” (twice):

(i) we hine oforcwomon and oferswyðdon § 7; L Dario…superato (expansion); (ii) we…Porrum…ofercwomon and oferswyðdon § 8; L deuicto (expansion)

29) oncyrran – on oϸer hweorfan: seo wyrd and sio hiow hie oft oncyrreð and on oϸer hworfeð “fate and fortune often change them, and turn them into something else” § 12; L— (expansion)

30) onettan – in feallan: hie swiðe on ϸa ure wic onetton and in ϸa feollon “and they hastened greatly and scurried into our camp” § 17; L ad castra innumeri confluxere (expansion) (I have not counted this as a binomial, see section 4 above) 31) ondswarian – cweðan (three times):

(i) Ða ondswarode me ϸæt triow…and ϸus cwæd “Then the tree answered me… and said” § 37; L Indico sermone tenuissimo arbor respondit (expansion: respondit – ondswarode…cwæd);

(ii) ϸæt triow ondswarode…and ϸus cwæð “the tree answered…and said”; L arbor Graece respondit (expansion: respondit – ondswarode…cwæð);

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(iii) Þa ondswarode me ϸæt treow on grecisc and ϸus cwæð “Then the tree answered me in Greek and said” § 40; L Arbor Graece dixit (expansion: dixit – ondswarode…cwæð)

32) on(d)swarian – secgan (twice):

(i) ϸa onswaredon hie us and sædon… “they answered us…and told us”; L dixerunt (expansion);

(ii) Ða ondswarodon hie mec and sægdon “they answered me and said” § 34; L Indos se sua lingua esse dicebant (expansion: dicebant – ondswarodon…sægdon)

33) reccan – secgan: ða rehte hit me se bisceop and sægde “the bishop translated it and told me” § 37; L— (addition)

34) restan – wician: ða het ic…mine fyrd restan and wician “I ordered my host to rest and make camp” § 13; L iussi continuo castra poni (expansion)

35) scinan – beorhtian “shine – glitter” § 11: Hit scan and berhte “It shone and glittered”; L in eo ueluti sidere aut fulgore clarum radiantibus; L— (free translation; addition) 36) scinan – lixan “shine – gleam”: Sumum ϸonne scinan ϸa scilla and lixtan “On some of them their scales glittered and shone” §17; L— (addition; free translation) 37) seon – sceawian (three times):

(i) “look – observe”: ϸe hit geseoð and sceawigað “for those who look and observe” § 3; L intueri (expansion);

(ii) we…woldan…geseon and sceawian “we…wished to see and witness” § 26; L si quid memorabile cerneremus (expansion);

(iii) Mid ϸy ic ϸa wolde near ϸa men geseon and sceawigon “When I wanted to take a closer look and observe these people” § 2; L Quos cum adire uellemus ucinius (expansion)

38) seon – ongietan: Ða gesawon we…and ongeaton Indisce men… “we saw…and perceived a few…Indians” § 15 (in Orchard’s translation the binomial has been simplified); L paucos Indorum seminudos notauimus homines (expansion: notauimus: gesawon – ongeaton)

39) settan – geendebyrdan “set – designate”: we ϸær settan and geendebyrdedon § 17; L praeposuimus (expansion: praeposuimus – settan and geendebyrdedon) 40) slean – cwellan “slay – kill”: we…hie slogan and cwealdon monige “But we…slew and killed them” § 17; L malas pestes configebamus (expansion: onfigebamus: slogan – cwealdon)

41) slitan – blodgian: and…hie sliton and blogodon and hie ealle swa fornamon “and tore them to bloody pieces…and snatched them all away” (Orchard), lit. “they

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tore them to pieces and bloodied them and took all of them so away” § 15; L adsumpserunt (free translation; expansion)

42) slitan – teoran: hie…ða eorϸan sliton and tæron “They ripped and tore the ground” § 18; L humum adterentes (expansion: adterentes: slitan – teoran)

43) stondan – hleowian: min gemynd stonde and hleouige “my memory shall…stand and tower” § 41; L— (free translation; addition) 44) swencan – wæcan “trouble – weaken” (twice):

(i) we wurdon…geswencte and gewæcte “we were…vexed and afflicted” § 12; L accidit nobis…laborare (expansion accidit: geswencte – gewæcte);

(ii) Ealle ϸa wæron…geswencte and gewæcte “They were all vexed and afflicted” § 13; L ipsa pecora uix se continere poterant (free translation; addition)

45) upteon – teran: hie…uptugon and ϸa tæron “they snatched up and ripped to pieces” § 21; L sed solitos pisces cum unguibus extrahebant (expansion extrahebant: uptugon and ϸa tæron) 46) wadan – gan: hit ofer eall wod and eode “but it went and trod on everything”, lit. “it went and went over everything” § 20; L— (free translation; addition)

47) weave – work: ða…wæfon and worhtan… “who wove and worked…” § 10; L detexunt (expansion) 48) weaxan – wridian: weox and wridode “grew and flourished” § 12; L— (addition in a free translation) 49) wægan (= wegan) – lædan (twice):

(i) mid him wægon and læddon “had brought and carried” § 10; L ueherent (expansion);

(ii) ϸa ϸe gold wægon and læddon “who bore and carried the gold”; L qui aurum uehebant (expansion)

50) wenan – ondrædan: hie wendon and ondredon “they expected and feared” § 10; L timendum esset (expansion timendum: wendon – ondredon) 51) wiscan (wyscan) – willan “wish – want”: ic oft wiscte and wolde § 4; L— (addition) 52) writan – cyϸan “write – tell”: ic ϸe write and cyϸe § 3; L— (addition) 53) writan – sendan “write – send”: wrat and sende § 1; L— (addition)

54) wundian – teran: hie…ϸa men wundodon and tæron “The bats…wounded and tore the men with them” § 19; L quibus artus militum uiolabant (expansion uiolabant: wundodon – tæron)

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Adverbial Binomials 1) eaϸmodlice and geornlice “humbly and eagerly” § 31; L supplex (expansio: supplex – eaϸmodlice and geornlice)

2) fremsumlice – luflice: hie us ϸær fremsumlice and luflice onfengon “they received us there in a friendly and generous fashion” § 23; L— (addition) 3) inne – ute “inside – out” § 8; L Fores… (free translation; addition)

Multinomials

Substantivial Multinomials

1) næderas and men and wildeoras: nædrena and monna and wildeora § 2; L innumerisque serpentium et hominum ferarumque generibus (translation)

2) down etc.: in ðissum dunum and denum and on wudum and on feldum “in these hills and valleys, and in woods, and in open country” § 9; L in his uallibus et campis siluisque ac montibus (translation)

3) fen and cannon and hreod weoxan “was…marshy, and canes and reeds grew there” § 27; L Palus erat sicca et canna habundans (expansion canna – cannon and hreod)

4) field etc.: ϸa westan feldas and wudu and duna “desolate expanses and woods and hills” § 26; L nihil praeter desertos ad oceanum campos siluasque ac montes audiuimus (translation) 5) horse etc.: several times in various combinations; eall ϸa ure hors and nietenu and elpendas “all our horses and animals and elephants” § 16; L elefanti (expansion) 6) hos: ða hean hos and dene and garsecg “the high promontories and valley and ocean” § 31; L edita caelo promuntoria (free translation; introduction of a multinomial)

7) snow etc.: betweoh ða snawas and earfeϸo and ϸa fyr “as a result of snow and fire and other difficulties” § 31; L qui inter niues perierunt (expansion)

8) sun – moon – stars: be ϸære asprungnisse sunnan and monan and be tungla rynum and gesetenissum and be lyfte tacnungum “about the eclipse of the sun and moon, and the courses of the stars and configurations, and the heavenly signs” § 6 (translation) 9) horse – mule – olfend – elpend: on horsum and on mulum and on olfendum and on elpendum “of horses and mules and camels and elephants” § 13; L in equis et mulis et camelis et elefantis (translation)

10) hos: ða hean hos and dene and garsecg…we gesawon “and we saw the high promontories and valley and ocean” § 31; L Nam…promuntoria ad oceanum in Ethiopio uidimus (expansion)

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11) hreod – pintreow – abies: stod hreod and pintreow and abies… “there stood reeds and pines and silver-fir trees…” § 12; L arundo…pinorum abietumque robora… (translation) 12) leon and beran and tigris and pardus and wulfas “lions and bears and tigers and leopards and wolves” § 16; L leonibus ursisque et tigribus pardisque ac lincibus (translation) 13) master: ϸe secge magister, and Olimphiade minre meder, and minum geswustrum “I am telling…to you, teacher, and to Olympias my mother and my sisters” § 24; L Cuius tibi et matri meae sororibusque meis…exemplar misi

14) snow: betweoh ða snawas and earfeϸo and ϸa fyr “as a result of the snow and difficulties and fire” § 31; L qui inter niues perierunt (expansion inter niues – betweoh ða snawas and earfeϸo and ϸa fyr)

15) trees: of sumum treowcynne and of his leafum and of his flyse “from a certain tree and from its leaves and fleece” § 10; L quae gens foliis arborum decerpendo lanuginem ex siluestri uellere uestes detexunt (relatively free translation) 16) weorod – ϸegnas – here; also: ϸegns – weored – here (twice):

(i) min weorod and ϸa mine ϸegnas and eal min here “And my troop and my thegns and all my army” § 10; L militibus omnis (expansion);

(ii) ϸæra minra ϸegna and ealles mines weoredes and heriges “of my thegns and all my troop and army” § 11

17) wild beasts: ϸa fulcuϸan wildeora and wæstma and wecga oran and wunderlice wyhta “the well-known wild beasts, and plants, and stones and metal ore and wondrous creatures” § 3; L publica ferarum ac fructuum metallorumque animalium (translation) 18) wuldor: mine gesælinesse 7 min wuldor and ϸa fromnisse minre iuguðe and gesælignisse mines lifes “my prosperity and my glory and the success of my youth and the prosperity of my life” § 11; L felicitatem meam insigni numero iuuentutis (free translation and expansion)

Adjectival Multinomials

1) gyldene columnan…swiðe micle and trumlice and fæste “golden columns, very great, and mighty, and firm” § 8; L (columnas aureas) solidas ingentique grossitudine atque altitudine (expansion)

2) gimmisc – cristallisc – gylden “jewelled – golden”: monig fatu gimmiscu and cristallisce dryncfatu and gyldne sestras “And many jewelled vessels and crystal drinking-cups and golden pitchers” § 8; L Multa gemmea et crystallina electrina uasa potaria et sextariosa… (relatively literal translation)

Chapter 6

AGENCY AND OBEDIENCE: THE AFTERLIFE OF ST. SWITHUN IN ANGLO-SAXON ENGLAND RHONDA L. McDANIEL THE EARLIEST RECORD of the miracles of St. Swithun, composed by the continental monk, Lantfred, provides a lengthy and stylistically baroque account of the many miracles of the ninth-century Anglo-Saxon bishop of Winchester. Lantfred wrote the Translatio et miracula S. Swithuni within just a few years of the translation of the saint’s relics in 971 ce, though it seems likely that he did not himself witness the event.1 The Latin work adopts the conventions of the translationes of previous saints which were clearly well-known to Lantfred, though his debt to these writings is by no means slavish. Though apparently not present for the translation itself, Lantfred likely was on hand in person for many of the miracles (or their aftermath) that he records, thus leading to the rich detail he provides of the persons involved and the contexts of many of the miracles. Ælfric’s Old English translation, based upon Lantfred’s Translatio et miracula and an Epitome of Lantfred’s work (possibly extracted and written by Ælfric himself) provides another unique insight into the impact that a newly recognized saint could have upon the community in which the saint’s cult was being established.2 Ælfric witnessed many of the recorded events himself, including the translation, and though Ælfric’s record is sometimes at odds with Lantfred’s accounts, it “leaves us much in the dark with regard to its author’s innermost thoughts on the events recorded there,” as Mechthild Gretsch points out.3 Such hagiographical variety, written so closely to the events, pulses with the life and energy of eye-witness accounts from both inside and outside the monastery at Old Minster. Elaine Treharne observes that “A hagiographer could and did move between writing the lives of saints and writing the chronicle of his or her religious institution, arguably seeing little difference between the modes of composition.”4 Both Lantfred’s and Ælfric’s works demonstrate how inextricable hagiography and institutional chronicle could be. Ælfric’s Old English translation of Lantfred’s Latin translatio makes available to his tenth-century vernacular audience (and to Old English scholars today) not only the story of Swithun’s discovery, but also unique details of how the afterlife of the new saint shaped and impinged upon the lives of the 1 Michael Lapidge, The Cult of St. Swithun, Winchester Studies 4.ii, The Anglo-Saxon Minsters of Winchester (Oxford: Clarendon Press for the Winchester Excavations Committee, 2003), 66.

2 Lapidge, Cult of St. Swithun, 558; see also Mechthild Gretsch, Ælfric and the Cult of Saints in Late Anglo-Saxon England (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2005), 172–86. 3 Gretsch, Ælfric and the Cult of Saints, 173.

4 Elaine Treharne, “Ælfric’s Account of St. Swithun: Literature of Reform and Reward,” in Narrative and History in the Early Medieval West, ed. Elizabeth M. Tyler and Ross Blazaretti (Turnhout: Brepols, 2006), 167–88, at 170.

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monks at the Old Minster in Winchester—at times to an uncomfortable degree. In addition, it reveals how the observances of those monks were considered integral to the miracles associated with the relics of the saint, maintaining and nourishing Swithun’s long, active afterlife. In the interplay of spiritual and physical actions lie issues of observance, agency, and obedience centered upon the records of Lantfred and Ælfric and their details about the revelation and veneration of the saint in their Latin and Old English vitae. In order to examine Swithun’s afterlife and its effects I want to focus on two ideas and two stories. The two ideas are the concepts of agency and obedience. Katherine O’Brien O’Keeffe comments that “agency is as slippery a concept as it is ubiquitous” in her discussion of early medieval thought about will or uoluntas, agency, and obedience. She observes that “while God sees the hearts of all and discerns dispositions and intentions, men and women must interpret God’s will (and their superiors’ will) [or, in this case, a saint’s will] before exercising their own wills in choice. It is in the space of that interpretation that agency may appear.”5 Obedience in Western twenty-first-century perspectives often seems to be dismissed as passive, lacking in either decision-making or active intention. O’Brien O’Keeffe points out, however, that all rules, commands, or requirements must be interpreted before they can be obeyed and notes “however narrow the dimensions of agent action exercised in doing the will of another, the agency it presupposed comes into existence in a space of uncertainty where an agent desiring to obey interprets the command of his or her superior…It is in this uncertain space of interpretation…that agency may make its appearance.”6 This matter of interpreting the will of another—in this case the will of the saint—lies at the heart of the first story about the revelation of St. Swithun. According to Ælfric, the not-yet-recognized saint appeared to a devout, aged smith and inquired if the man knew a priest named Eadsige who had been driven out of the Old Minster along with others by Bishop Æthelwold. After the smith answers in the affirmative but expresses ignorance of where the man lives, Swithun replies: Witodlice he wunað nu on wincel-cumbe ham-fæst and ic ðe nu halsige on þæs hælendes naman þæt ðu him min ærende ardlice abeode and sege him to soþan þæt swiðun se bisceop het þæt he fare to aþelwolde bisceope and secge þæt he ge-openige him sylf mine byrgene and min ban gebringe binnan þære cyrcan.

(In truth, he makes his home in Winchcombe. I now demand in the Savior’s name that you quickly declare to him my message, and tell him truly that Swithun the bishop commands that he go to bishop Æthelwold and say that he himself must open my sepulchre and bring my bones within the church.)7 5 Katherine O’Brien O’Keeffe, Stealing Obedience: Narratives of Agency and Identity in Later AngloSaxon England (Toronto: Toronto University Press, 2012), 8. 6 O’Brien O’Keeffe, Stealing Obedience, 8.

7 Ælfric, “Natale Sancti Swyðuni, Episcopi,” in Ælfric’s Lives of Saints, ed. Walter W. Skeat. 4 vols. (EETS, 1881–1900; repr. 4 vols. in 2, London: Oxford University Press, 1966), 21.34–39. All translations from Old English are my own (hereafter Ælfric, LS).



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As the first, crucial link in a chain of communication, the smith expresses concern that he will not be believed by Eadsige. He then receives from Swithun a test to give to the priest: “Gange him to minre byrgene / and ateo ane hringan up of þære þryh” (“Let him go to my sepulchre and draw out one of the rings from the tomb”).8 Swithun continues to explain that if the ring came out easily it would be a sign of the truth of the smith’s message. The important point, however, is that this test was intended as a proof for Eadsige, so that the priest would obey the command. It was not a sign meant for the smith, since the smith had Swithun’s own visitation as his confirmation. After providing the smith with this test and some further instructions to give to Eadsige and to all people, the saint vanishes. So, according to Ælfric’s text, the smith’s first act of obedience must be somehow to go to Winchcombe to find Eadsige, which might be a bit of a challenge because the smith is an old man and cannot travel easily. In Lantfred’s Latin version, however, the saint gives the smith rather more options for this first act of obedience, saying: …tibi precipio, fili, teque rogo in dilectione Christi, si quando ad istam praedictus urbem uenerit canonicus quatinus ad illum propere pergas meaque illi iussa dicas. Sin autem huc numquam destinauerit accedere neque tu ad eum ulla ratione poteris peruenire, quandocumque aliquem ex illius conspexeris clientibus, uigilanti cura (parte ex mea) illi impera, ut proprio dicat seniori omne quod narrabo tibi.

(I command you…that when this aforementioned canon comes to this city, that you go quickly and to him and tell my orders to him. If, however, he never chooses to come here, nor can you manage to get to him by any means, then whenever you see one of his retinue, command that person with attentive concern on my behalf, that he relate to his superior [i.e., Eadsige] everything which I shall now tell you.)9

In this version of Swithun’s command, the smith has to wait and watch and go to Eadsige when the priest comes to Winchester. Or, if the priest does not come, and the smith cannot find a means to get to him, then the smith can give the message to one of Eadsige’s men if or when one comes to Winchester. Now, this seems a rather loosy-goosy way for a saint to go about getting an important message to the next link in the communication chain that leads to Æthelwold, but Lantfred’s version of the story gives the smith several options for obedience as opposed to Ælfric’s single option. Both Lantfred and Ælfric report that the smith feared to be known as a liar and so he disobeyed the saint’s command, remained quiet about his vision, and made no attempt to find Eadsige or travel to him. Swithun appears to the smith in visions two more times to urge him to act upon his command; the last time, according to Ælfric, the saint þreade (“menaced, rebuked”) the smith “hwi he nolde gehyrsumian his hæsum mid weorce” (“because he would not obey his command with deeds”).10 In this instance, space for improvisation within obedience would have been obtained by “deeds,” implying that 8 Ælfric, LS, sermon 21, ll. 34–39, edited at pp. 440–73.

9 Lantfred, “Translatio et miracula S. Swithuni,” in The Cult of St. Swithun, ed. and trans. Michael Lapidge (Oxford: Clarendon, 2003) §1.20–25. 10 Ælfric, LS, 21.60–61.

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agency within obedience requires an action, an attempt to obey. The smith, however, is rebuked for passive inaction as a form of disobedience. While that inaction is itself enacted by choice, it is not obedient agency but disobedience, deserving rebuke. The space for interpretation and improvisation posited by O’Brien O’Keeffe only exists within agentive actions toward obedience. Anything else is disobedience, as Swithun makes clear. Ælfric’s Swithun is much kinder to the poor smith than Lantfred’s, who threatens the man “crudelique insuper comminatus nece si non allubesceret edictis sacratissimi uatis” (“with a cruel death if he would not pay heed”) to the saint’s command. Indeed, Lantfred observes that “Quod sponte noluit, coactus prodidit” (“What he [the smith] would not do of his own accord, he accomplished under constraint”).11 In this instance, the smith’s fear of being called a liar leads to inaction and this disobedience results in a great narrowing of his options for obedience. His freedom to improvise and govern his own obedience is taken away because he failed to act in any way to obey the saint’s behest. Threatened with his life, he only chooses obedience when constrained by a greater fear than the one that led to disobedience. Even within this situation, however, the smith can interpret what obedience will look like: “Qui antelucanus matutina pulsante campana, sicuti ualuit ad tumbam almi pontificis accessit Deumque supplici prece exorauit, quatinus illi talem ostenderet hominem qui uellet deferre sancti legationem usque ad illam in qua canonicus degebat presignatus urbem” (“Getting up before dawn when the morning bell was sounding, he went as best he could to the tomb of the holy bishop and prevailed upon God in humble prayer that God might reveal to him such a man as could deliver the saint’s message to the town in which the aforementioned canon was living”).12 The smith, immediately feeling that his prayer will be answered, seizes one of the rings on the sepulchre and prays that God will confirm the authenticity of his vision through the sign meant for Eadsige. Technically, this sign was not meant for the smith, yet God honours the smith’s prayer for a way to be obedient by answering the smith’s request for Eadsige’s test to work for himself. Following the successful test of the ring, the smith goes into the marketplace and encounters a tenant-farmer of Eadsige’s to whom he discharges his message from the saint. In his own improvisation of obedience the smith appeals to a higher power than Swithun and also appropriates, with God’s blessing, the sign of authentication that was meant for Eadsige before actually fulfilling his mission. At no time is the smith rebuked for this creative obedience by Lantfred, by the saint or by God. Ælfric’s account of this episode, as mentioned above, does not provide the multiple initial options for obedience and also omits the harsh threat upon the smith’s life given in Lantfred’s version of Swithun’s third visitation. Nor does Ælfric translate Lantfred’s comment about the smith accomplishing under constraint what he would not do of his own accord. Instead Ælfric narrates that after the third vision the smith æt nextan, which can mean either “at last” or “at nearest, next,” went to the saint’s tomb, grasped the ring, and prayed that God would fulfill the sign of authentication for him.13 In Ælfric’s version 11 Lantfred, “Translatio et miracula S. Swithuni,” §1.45–47. 12 Lantfred, “Translatio et miracula S. Swithuni,” §1.49–52. 13 Ælfric, LS, 21.62.



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the smith already had only one option for obedience to the saint, which he did not fulfill, and upon being rebuked by the saint for inaction the smith, rather than seeking a means of obeying the saint’s command as in Lantfred, goes to the sepulchre and prays for God to fulfill the sign so that he may know for sure that it is indeed the saint who has been appearing to him. Yet even this apparent disobedience seems to have been understood as a means of seeking to obey the saint, for Ælfric reports that God grants the sign and the smith departs ge-egsod (awed, terrified) and thereupon meets Eadsige’s man in the marketplace. The smith accomplishes the saint’s demand by passing the message on to Eadsige’s man rather than seeking out Eadsige himself.14 Even this, however, in Ælfric’s version of the episode, is presented as a creative kind of obedience. The smith did not give the message directly to Eadsige, as commanded, and in Ælfric’s version there is no option to give the message to another who would then relay it to Eadsige. It seems that either Ælfric is relying upon his audience to know already that there is more to the story or he is trying to curb additions to the story. Otherwise, why would Ælfric change the story when, as Treharne notes, “the miracles of the saint [were] performed within living memory and in the locality of Ælfric, [so] the audience would know something of the saint and be familiar with some or all of the miraculous occurrences being recounted”?15 Those who may have known both Lantfred’s Latin translatio and Ælfric’s Old English rendition might have seen some degree of competition between the two, or, at the very least, two competing philosophies of hagiography. William Bolten observes that “Despite his complaints about the paucity of information available on Swithun, Ælfric also omits significant details from his Old English translation of the saint’s vita…Ælfric left out and edited a number of anecdotes that he found in Latin exemplars.”16 Nor is this the only saint’s vita in which Ælfric does so; rather, such editing is characteristic of Ælfric’s hagiographical translations. The answer to the question of Ælfric’s purpose in the case of the smith’s creative obedience may be fruitfully explored in the second story I would like to examine. This story also concerns obedience, only this time it illustrates the importance of obedience for the monks of the Old Minster. In this case, Ælfric adds details to the account of Lantfred—rare details from his own experience. Lantfred and Ælfric both describe how Bishop Æthelwold had commanded the monks that whenever a suppliant received healing through Swithun the monks must immediately leave whatever they were doing, go to the church, and offer praise to God for the miracle. This apparently became tiresome to some of the monks, especially when they sometimes had to get up three or four times during the night, go to the church, and sing. Lantfred (but not Ælfric) describes how a few disgruntled monks, having been seduced by devils, persuaded the rest to ignore Æthelwold’s command while the bishop was out of town in service to the king and could not observe their disobedience.17 This disobedience, in contrast to that 14 Ælfric, LS, 21.74.

15 Treharne, “Ælfric’s Account of St. Swithun,” 171.

16 William E. Bolton, “We ne motan deman ymbe þæt”: Clerical Judgement in Ælfric of Eynsham’s Lives of Saints Swithun, Edmund, and Æthelwold,” Viator 46, no. 1 (2015): 21–42, at 26; see also Gretsch, Ælfric and the Cult of Saints, 172–74. 17 Lantfred, “Translatio et miracula S. Swithuni,” §10.2–10; Ælfric, LS, 21.222–36.

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of the smith in the previous story, is deliberate and active. It is not an improvisation or interpretation of obedience, but outright brazen disobedience. Not only do some of the monks fall prey to devilish seduction through their own sloth but they increase their culpability by actively persuading others to the same disobedience and the others choose to follow. The ongoing activity of Swithun in healing suppliants seriously disrupts the lives of the monks and they have had enough of it. They stop praising God for the miracles. Lantfred then states, “Quod dum incaute foret pretermissum ferme per interuallum quindecim dierum…sanctus Dei famulus…in somnis apparuit quadam nocte cuidam uenerabili matronae” (“When the directive had been heedlessly ignored for the space of nearly a fortnight, the holy servant of God…appeared one night in a dream to a certain respectable lady).18 Swithun requires the woman to tell Æthelwold to command the monks not to stop praising God on every occasion when a miracle takes place or else the miracles would cease and the monks receive the judgement of God for their apathy. The woman quickly obeys the saint and delivers the message to Æthelwold, enacting ideal obedience by interpreting the saint’s message as urgent and discharging her obligation without delay. Æthelwold, too, acts immediately to carry out the saint’s behest and sends an order to the monks to return to obedience to his own command. The saint’s involvement in the lives of these monks creates a catch-22 for the men: when a miracle occurs they must drop everything to go sing in thanksgiving. Such a practice is tiresome to them, yet if they stop then the miracles will also end and many sick and crippled people would no longer be healed. The burden of the people’s plight would rest not upon St. Swithun, but upon the monks who were too selfish and too slothful to get up in the night to thank God for the miracles he accomplished for people who had no other recourse for their health. In translating this episode, Ælfric leaves out Swithun’s long threat of divine judgement against the monks, and also makes an even more noteworthy change, saying “Hwæt ða se halga swyðun sylf com on swefne / wundorlice geglencged to sumum godan menn” (“Look! Then the holy Swithun himself came in a dream, wonderfully attired, to a certain good man”).19 While Ælfric’s omissions, abridgements, and rearrangements of the texts he translates are characteristic, this kind of intervention in his source material is not. He does not willy-nilly change the sex of significant individuals in his sources. The Epitome which, along with Lantfred’s Translatio served as Ælfric’s source for his translation, also says “apparuit ipse sanctus Suuithanus cuidam fideli uiro per somnium” (“St Swithun himself appeared in a dream to a certain trustworthy man”).20 Michael Lapidge makes a strong case for Ælfric as the compiler of the Epitome, in which case he would be carrying through in his Old English translation with a change he made while compiling excerpts from Lantfred into the Epitome. This surmise, however, does not explain the change in sex of the person who received the visitation from Swithun from Lantfred’s Translatio to the Epitome. In analyzing this change 18 Lantfred, “Translatio et miracula S. Swithuni,” §10.10–14. 19 Ælfric, LS, 21.237–38.

20 Epitome, in The Cult of St. Swithun, Winchester Studies 4.ii, The Anglo-Saxon Minsters of Winchester, ed. Michael Lapidge (Oxford: Clarendon Press for the Winchester Excavations Committee, 2003), 564–73: §14.114–15.



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Lapidge concludes that Ælfric, having been a monk at the Old Minster when the event occurred, corrects the story as told by Lantfred. We know from Ælfric’s comments in other places that he was concerned to provide correct accounts as an antidote to false traditions.21 Did Lantfred have faulty information, or did he exercise creative license with the episode by making the messenger of Swithun a woman? If the latter, why? We may only speculate as to Lantfred’s reasons for the difference, but instead of having faulty information he may have featured a laywoman’s perfect obedience as a stronger rebuke to the monks’ disobedience. Nor is the sex of this messenger the only case in which Lantfred and Ælfric contradict each other in this story, for Lantfred also writes that when Æthelwold learned of the flagrant disobedience of the monks, he was “commotus paululum—ut decet sapientem uirum” (slightly disturbed—as befits a learned man).22 Yet Lapidge notes that Æthelwold is known from other sources to be a man who did not suffer breaches of observance lightly and it seems unlikely that he would have had a mild response to such deliberate defiance of his directive to the monks of the Old Minster.23 The Epitome also differs from Lantfred on this subject and this appears to be another place in which Ælfric, if it is Ælfric’s work, corrects Lantfred’s account, for the Epitome says “Qui commotus animo cur fratres non egissent secundum illius preceptum, rursus mandauit monachis cum magna comminatione, ut ad omnes sanitates que ad sancti tumbam fierent, facto signo omnes simul ad ecclesiam pergerent et Deo omnipotenti laudes ymnidicis uocibus canerent: quod ita deinceps hactenus obseruatum audiuimus” (“Æthelwold, disturbed in his mind as to why the monks had not behaved in accordance with his orders, once again commanded the monks with a mighty threat, that at all healings which took place at the saint’s tomb, they would all go to the church as soon as the sign had been given, and would sing prayers of thanksgiving in harmonious voices. I have heard that this commandment has been kept from that time up to the present”).24 Ælfric maintains the correction in his Old English version, indicating that Æthelwold was more than “slightly disturbed,” for he sent orders for the monks to resume their singing when miracles occurred, “and se þe hit forsawe sceolde hit mid fæstene / seofon niht on an swarlice gebetan” (“and he who neglected it must grievously make amends for it through fasting for seven consecutive days”).25 Ælfric concludes the episode by saying “Hi hit heoldon þa syððan symle on ge-wunon / swa swa we gesawon sulfe for oft / and þone sang we sungon unseldon mid heom” (“They have ever since kept this practice, just as we ourselves have often seen and we have sung this song with them not infrequently”).26 The monks’ active disobedience came from their disgruntlement over lost sleep and interrupted work, but Æthelwold’s punishment of a week 21 See, for instance, Ælfric’s comments about inaccurate accounts of the passio of St. George in Ælfric, LS, 14.1. 22 Lantfred, “Translatio et miracula S. Swithuni,” §10.40.

23 Michael Lapidge, “Æthelwold as Scholar and Teacher,” in Bishop Æthelwold: His Career and Influence, ed. Barbara Yorke (Woodbridge: Boydell, 1988), 89–117, at 104. 24 Epitome, in The Cult of St. Swithun, §14.122–25. 25 Ælfric, LS, 21.260–61.

26 Ælfric, LS, 21.262–64.

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of fasting for the disobedient apparently made obedience and a bit of lost sleep look more desirable—and thus the preferred active choice. We do not hear about any improvisations by the monks on their way to obedience, but the main point for Lantfred and Ælfric is that they did obey in deeds. The obedience of the monks apparently became deeply set after that, for Lantfred records their obedience up to the time of his composition of the Translatio (ca. 972–974); the Epitome (complied sometime between 984 and ca. 998) notes the continued practice through its time; and Ælfric’s Old English translation (ca. 992–998) indicates the custom still observed twenty or more years after the event. In this case, the afterlife actions of Swithun thrive symbiotically in dependence upon the active obedience of the monks of the Old Minster, whose obedience in turn constitutes an intentional response of gratitude to the healing actions of the saint. In this and in many other ways, “Even more than in Ælfric’s own sources, the saint becomes the reinforcer of aspects of the Benedictine reform in late tenth-century Winchester: he is the saint who insists upon an active obedience by good deeds from those who bear witness to him.”27 This matter of active obedience may answer the question about Ælfric’s own intervention in the details of the stories about the smith and about the monks of the Old Minster. Ælfric makes clear in Lives of Saints and elsewhere his concern for rendering accurate accounts in accord with orthodox theology so that his lay audience especially might not be led astray in their beliefs.28 It seems that Ælfric interprets telling an accurate story as obedience, regardless of whether the accurate story creates ideal examples or not. Lantfred, like many other hagiographers, may have interpreted his purpose as to present ideal pictures of obedience and virtue in his Translatio, and so improvised upon the facts in order to obey his own interpretation of his purpose. Ælfric interpreted obedience differently and thus saw it as his own responsibility to correct any errors in his source(s), even if it meant showing laypersons or even his own monastic fratres and his revered teacher, Æthelwold, as less than perfectly virtuous or obedient in the humanity of their responses to the activities of St. Swithun.29 27 Treharne, “Ælfric’s Account of St. Swithun,” 179.

28 See Milton McC. Gatch, Preaching and Theology in Anglo-Saxon England: Ælfric and Wulfstan (Buffalo, NY: University of Toronto Press, 1977), 14; James Hurt, Ælfric, Twayne’s English Authors Series, 131 (New York: Twayne, 1972), 82; Theodore H. Leinbaugh, “Ælfric’s Lives of Saints I and the Boulogne Sermon: Editorial, Authorial and Textual Problems,” in The Editing of Old English: Papers from the 1990 Manchester Conference, ed. D. G. Scragg and Paul E. Szarmach (Cambridge: Brewer, 1994), 191–211, at 209; Joyce Hill, “Ælfric: His Life and Works,” in The Companion to Ælfric, ed. Hugh Maginnis and Mary Swan (Leiden: Brill, 2009), 35–65, at 52–53; Leslie Lockett, Anglo-Saxon Psychologies in the Vernacular and Latin Traditions (Toronto: Toronto University Press, 2011), 413. 29 For more material on St. Swithun, see Christopher A. Jones, “Furies, Monks, and Folklore in the Earliest Miracula of Saint Swithun,” Journal of English and German Philology 111 (2014): 407–42: Jennifer A. Lorden, “Landscapes of Devotion: the Settings of St. Swithun’s Early Uitae,” Anglo-Saxon England 45 (2016): 285–309; Christopher Riedel, “Praising God Together: Monastic Reformers and Laypeople in Tenth-Century Winchester,” Catholic Historical Review 102, no. 2 (March 2016): 284–317; and Tom Watson, “Creating the Cult of a Saint: Communication Strategies in 10th-Century England,” Public Relation Review 34 (2008): 9–24.

Chapter 7

B. AND THE VITA HARLINDIS ET RENULAE ROSALIND LOVE THE SUNY PRESS volume Holy Men and Holy Women (edited by Paul Szarmach in 1996) was crucial for showing the way with its dual focus on the materiality of hagiographical texts and their intertextuality, and so it was a great privilege fifteen or so years later to contribute to the 2013 collection of essays that came out of one Paul’s wonderful NEH Summer Seminars: Writing Women Saints in Anglo-Saxon England. Holy Men and Holy Women was important also for the equal footing on which it placed biographies of men and women: here, I want to honour those values in Paul’s work, as well as his own generous support from an early stage in my career, by advancing a conjecture that would expand the oeuvre of a hagiographer from England, potentially giving us his earliest foray into the genre, writing about holy women. The hagiographer in question is known to us only by the first letter of his name, B., and was active during the second half of the tenth century. The holy women with whom I am going to try to connect B. are the sisters Harlindis (or Herlindis) and Renula (or Reinula, or Relindis), eighth-century founding abbesses of a monastery some sixty kilometres (forty miles) northwest of Liège, at Aldeneik, near Maaseik, where their relics became the focus of veneration, and for whom there exists a joint Vita (BHL 3755), which will be the focus of this article.1 The cult of Harlindis and Renula has intriguing links both directly and indirectly with England in the form of the non-bodily relics that were kept at Aldeneik (and are now at Sint-Catharinakerk at Maaseik)—namely, textile panels traditionally referred to as a “casula” (chasuble) and two “uelamina” (veils), made from previously separate pieces of gold and silk embroidered fabric, some of which have been definitely identified as work from southern England perhaps from the late eighth or early ninth century, an eighthcentury purse-reliquary with the appearance of Insular origin, and the Codex Eyckensis, a book made up from the remnants of two high-grade eighth-century Gospel books written at Echternach under strong Insular influence.2 It is not known exactly when or how this array of objects reached Aldeneik, in particular those that came from England.3 As we will see, the Vita sanctarum uirginum Harlindis et Renulae (hereafter VHR) draws these relics into its story by specific reference not only to the women’s work as scribes of 1 The text was edited by Gottfried Henschen and Daniel van Papenbroek in Acta Sanctorum [hereafter ActaSS], Martii III (1668), 386–91.

2 On the textiles see Mildred Budny and Dominic Tweddle, “The Maaseik Embroideries,” AngloSaxon England, 13 (1984): 65–96, and Mildred Budny and Dominic Tweddle, “The Early Medieval Textiles at Maaseik, Belgium,” The Antiquaries Journal 65 (1985): 353–89. On the Codex Eyckensis, see Christian Coppens, Albert Derolez and Hubert Heymans, Codex Eyckensis: An Insular Gospel Book from the Abbey of Aldeneik (Antwerp and Maaseik: Maaseik Town Council, 1994). 3 Budny and Tweddle suggested Alcuin as one possible means; “Early Medieval Textiles,” 385.

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books still to be seen at Aldeneik, namely “quatuor euangelistarum scripta…conscripserunt…quae quidem…hactenus…fulgent” (copies of the four Gospels…which they wrote… which still shine…up to this time), but also their wonderful needlework, attested by “quaedam palliola” (certain veils, or cloths) still on display in the hagiographer’s day.4 The VHR appears to have had a narrow circulation, surviving only in three fifteenthcentury legendaries (it was in a fourth, now destroyed), in other words, only in copies at a significant remove from the time of composition.5 These late copies are closely related because they were made by Augustinian Canons of the Congregation of Windesheim, among whom books circulated extensively, and they are therefore very likely to descend from a single exemplar.6 The Bollandist editors also refer to a copy from Maaseik (“ex autographo Masecano”) that seems to be lost.7 The editors compared the text of the Vita they had with a triplex Office for the feast days of the two saints (the translation on March 22, and then each of their own days, February 6 and October 12), which does not appear to survive and was perhaps also in the Maaseik manuscript. Texts for that Office referred to some miracles not mentioned in the Vita and relevant sections are quoted in the notes to the edition in Acta Sanctorum. The composition of the VHR is usually dated to the late ninth century, on the basis of internal evidence alone: towards the end of the text, we learn that “post multum…temporis” (“after much time”) Abbess Ava, “beatae memoriae” (“of blessed memory”), replaced the old church at Aldeneik (§ 23). Ava is not known from any other source and so we cannot put a date on this rebuilding work. However, the author goes straight on to record that Franco of Tongeren, bishop of Liège from 855 or 856 to 901, presided over the translation of the relics into the new church, giving the impression that it occurred around the same time. Unlike Ava, Franco is not referred to as “of blessed memory,” and is therefore assumed by all commentators to have been still alive when the text was composed, making it a direct response to the relic-translation, the last event the VHR mentions.8 Scholars have also concluded 4 § 12, ed. ActaSS, Martii III.388. The date of the writing of the VHR has thus been seen as the cutoff point for the arrival of the manuscript and the embroideries at Aldeneik; Budny and Tweddle, “Early Medieval Textiles,” 355.

5 The Bollandists used Wien, Ö� sterreichische nationalbibliothek, MS 12796 (the Hagiologium Brabantinorum, from the Windesheim congregation of Canons regular at Rougeclôtre; there the text occurs with a different prologue, by the compiler of the legendary, Jan Gielemans, ca. 1476–1484), and Paris, Bibliothèque Mazarine 1733 (from the Canons Regular at Corsendonck, 1498). Two other fifteenth-century copies, unknown to them, are Munster, Universitäts- und Landsbibliothek 354 (from Kloster Böddeken in Westphalia), burnt during the Second World War, and Brussels, Koninklijke Bibliotheek 3391–3399 (the Windesheim Canons regular at Kloster Bethlehem, ca. 1480).

6 On hagiography shared across the Windesheim Congregation see François de Vriendt, “Un récit lobbain du XIe siècle: la vie de sainte Renelde, martyre à Saintes (BHL 7082). Commentaire et nouvelle hypothèse de datation,” in “Scribere sanctorum gesta”: recueil d’études d’hagiographie médiévale offert à Guy Philippart, ed. É� tienne Renard, Michel Trigalet, Xavier Hermand, and Paul Bertrand (Turnhout: Brepols, 2005), 399–416, at 404. 7 ActaSS, Martii III.385.

8 See, for example, Léon Van der Essen, Étude critique de littéraire sur les vitae des saints mérovingiens de l’ancienne Belgique (Paris / Louvain: Fontemoing / Bureaux de Recueil, 1907), 110–11; and

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that if the VHR had been composed any later than this period, there would have been some reference to Aldeneik’s presumed damage or destruction at the time of the widely attested presence nearby of Scandinavian raiding parties in 881 and 882, an argument from silence which should be treated with at least some caution.9 In fact, it has been shown that the only reference to late-ninth-century destruction specifically at Aldeneik occurs in the Gesta abbreviata of the bishops of Liège, written in 1246 by the Cistercian, Giles of Orval, who was using the topos of uniform destruction of monastic institutions by invading Northmen to advance his own contemporary agenda, and whose testimony cannot therefore be taken as water-tight.10 That point does not invalidate the hypothesis that the text was written immediately after the last event it mentions, Franco’s translation of the relics, but it may seem to remove the certainty of a terminus ante quem. Worth recalling, too, is the observation by Léon van der Essen, in his monumental study of the merovingian hagiography of Belgium, that with its putative date in the 880s, the VHR was interesting for being one of the few things written at that troubled period for the area around Liège.11 If it is that much of an outlier, would that be grounds for pushing the date of composition later? So far, then, we have the established position that VHR was composed after 855 and before about 881, perhaps prompted by the relic-translation, which would have been an apt moment to commission hagiography, to seal and publicize the sisters’ claim to sanctity, made canonical, as it were, by the act of translation.12 No hypothesis has been advanced about the text’s author other than that it was a priest serving the nuns at Aldeneik, or in fact one of those nuns, or perhaps someone from Echternach.13 Yet there are later points in Aldeneik’s history that could also have provided the impetus to record the institution’s rightful and divinely sanctioned possession of its landed endowments and treasures, though in that scenario we would have to account for why the narrative seems to stop with the translation story. In 952 Otto I gave Aldeneik church and all its appurtenances to the bishop of Liège, Farabert, and his successors and at some point thereafter it began to be occupied by a community of secular canons.14 Might that move Matthias Werner, Der Lütticher Raum in Frühkarolingischer Zeit. Untersuchungen zur Geschichte einer karolingischen Stammlandschaft (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck und Ruprecht, 1980), 175–84.

9 Alain Dierkens, “L’Abbaye d’Aldeneik au IXe siècle,” Annales de la Fédération Archéologique et Historique de Belgique, 44 (1976): 135–42, at 138; the article published the findings from Dierkens’ Master’s thesis “L’Abbaye d’Aldeneik pendant le haut moyen âge,” 2 vols. (Mémoire de licence en Histoire, Université Libre de Bruxelles, 1975). 10 Dierkens, “L’Abbaye d’Aldeneik au IXe siècle,” 137. 11 Van der Essen, Étude critique, 111.

12 Dierkens, “L’Abbaye d’Aldeneik au IXe siècle,” 136.

13 Van der Essen, Étude critique, 111, for the first; Rosamond McKitterick, “Frauen und Schriftlichkeit in Frühmittelalter,” in Weibliche Lebensgestaltung im frühen Mittelalter, ed. HansWerner Goetz (Köln: Böhlau, 1991), 65–118, at 101, for the second; Echternach was suggested by Dierkens, “L’Abbaye d’Aldeneik pendant le haut moyen âge,” 142–43.

14 Dierkens, “L’abbaye d’Aldeneik au IXe siècle,” 136; cf. Steven Vanderputten, Dark-Age Nunneries: The Ambiguous Identity of Female Monasticism, 800–1050 (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 2018), 133.

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away from Aldeneik’s status as a women’s monastic community have generated a need to chronicle its holy origins and prestigious connections, to stake a claim to its landed possessions and special treasures, or might it at least have prompted the refreshing of an older account? But let us leave Harlindis and Renula for a while and turn to our hagiographer. Michael Lapidge mapped out B.’s career for the first time in 1992 and later revisited the question when introducing the edition of B.’s Vita S. Dunstani.15 He showed that details in the Vita suggest that B. knew at first hand about the earlier stages of Dunstan’s life because he had been his student at Glastonbury and then served within his retinue. A letter addressed by one B., probably the same person as the author of the Vita S. Dunstani, to Æthelgar, archbishop of Canterbury from 988 to 990 but formerly a monk at Glastonbury, provides evidence that B. must have left Dunstan’s service, perhaps in around 960, and instead began to enjoy the patronage of a bishop of Liège, most convincingly identifiable as the learned Ebrachar, pupil of Rather of Verona.16 Ebrachar was bishop from 959 until his death in 971, and in 963 founded a community of secular canons at Saint-Martin in Liège, of which Lapidge conjectures B. may have become a member. B.’s letter to Æthelgar gives the impression that he had become weary of life under Ebrachar’s successor, Notger, and sought ways to return to England.17 The chief benefit B. had to offer prospective patrons was his gifts as an author of ambitiously adorned Latin prose and verse, which he used to compose a biography of his former patron, Dunstan, dedicated to Ælfric, archbishop of Canterbury (995–1005). It now seems likely that at roughly the same time B. also composed a dossier of texts commemorating two late seventh- and early eighth-century female saints of Kent, Mildthryth, and Eadburh, in whom the archbishop was interested by dint of controlling the church where their relics were believed to rest, at Lyminge, formerly a monastery founded by Æthelburh, daughter of King Æthelbert of Kent.18 My case for B.’s authorship of that dossier, necessarily only a conjecture, rests on the fact that it has turns of phrase strikingly similar to phrases in the Vita Dunstani and B.’s known letters, and more generally shares the quirks of diction and grammar that make up B’s distinctive style. While working on that dossier, I noticed B.’s use of a short quotation from earlier hagiography. As he set about describing Mildthryth’s early years and her mother’s decision to send her to Gaul to learn the ways of monasticism, he said of the young saint’s time abroad: The diploma recording Otto’s gift is printed in Die Urkunden Konrad I, Heinrich I, und Otto, Monumenta Germaniae Historica [hereafter MGH] Diplomata 1 (Hannover: Hahn, 1879–1884), 235–36 (no. 154).

15 Michael Lapidge, “B. and the Vita S. Dunstani,” in St Dunstan, his Life, Times and Cult, ed. Nigel Ramsay, Margaret Sparks, and Timothy Tatton-Brown (Woodbridge: Boydell and Brewer, 1992), 247–59, and The Early Lives of St Dunstan, ed. and trans. Michael Winterbottom and Michael Lapidge, Oxford Medieval Texts (Oxford University Press: Oxford, 2012), 1–109 (the Vita), and on B.’s identity, lxiv–lxxviii. 16 See Early Lives of St Dunstan, ed. Winterbottom and Lapidge, 152–58, for an edition and translation of the letter to Æthelgar, and discussion of its implications at lxvi–lxxii. 17 Early Lives of St Dunstan, ed. Winterbottom and Lapidge, 157.

18 Love, “St Eadburh of Lyminge and her hagiographer,” Analecta Bollandiana 137 (2019): 313–408.

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aptauit ut dirigerentur uie eius ubi nichil audiret nisi sancta nichilque uideret nisi honesta quatinus non peccaret domino.

(she saw to it that her ways should be directed to where she could hear nothing except what is holy, and see nothing except what is true, so that she should not sin in the Lord.)19

The clause in bold comes from chapter 3 of Alcuin’s prose Vita Willibrordi and refers to his family’s decision to send the young Willibrord for education at Ripon: Tradidit eum pater Hrypensis ecclesiae fratribus relegiosis studiis et sacris litteris erudiendum, ut fragilior aetas ualidioribus inualesceret disciplinis, ubi nihil uideret nisi honesta, nihil audirent nisi sancta. (His father entrusted him to the monks of church of Ripon, to be instructed in religious studies and sacred letters, so that his weaker age could be fortified by sturdier lessons, where he might see nothing except that which is true, hear nothing except that which is holy.)20

B.’s Vita Dunstani showed him to be reasonably well-read, familiar with a range of earlier and contemporary Latin hagiography, so there would be nothing especially surprising about his use of this particular source, albeit one with little obvious connection to the new context.21 Striking is the frictionless transfer of the depiction of a young male saint’s oblation to the story of a girl’s beginning on the path to learned holiness. In writing about B. and Mildthryth, I noted in passing the only other identifiable occurrence of that same hagiographical quotation, namely in the VHR. There the author described the decision made by their parents to send Harlindis and Renula to study at the monastic community at “Valencina,” generally assumed to be Valenciennes: Commendarunt eas confestim pariter pater ac mater abbatissae cuiusdem monasterii quod uulgo Valencina uocatur, diuinis dogmatibus siue humanis artibus “religiosisque studiis et sacris litteris erudiendas, ut fragilior aetas ualidioribus inualesceret disciplinis, ubi nihil uiderentnisi honesta, nihil audirent nisi sancta”.22 (Their mother and father together soon commended them to the abbess of a certain monastery which is commonly called Valenciennes, to be instructed in divine teachings and the arts of men, in religious studies and sacred letters, so that their weaker age could be fortified by sturdier lessons, where they might see nothing except that which is true, hear nothing except that which is holy.)

19 Love, “St Eadburh,” 378–79.

20 BHL 8935; Passiones Vitaeque Sanctorum Aevi Merovingici, ed. Bruno Krusch and Wilhelm Levison, MGH Scriptores Rerum Merovingicarum 7 (Hannover: Hahn, 1920), 117 line 25; translation mine. It is striking to note that the clause, ubi nihil uideret…nisi sancta, from Alcuin’s Vita was one picked out for use as an antiphon for the feast of Willibrord now only surviving in a twelfth-century antiphoner from St. Mary’s Church in Utrecht (Utrecht, Universiteitsbibliotheek MS 406), inventoried as NL-Uu 406 (3 J 7) by Charles Downey in the online resource www.cantusindex. org (accessed March 6, 2022). It is not known at what date the office would have been composed. 21 On B.’s reading, see Early Lives of St Dunstan, ed. Winterbottom and Lapidge, xcvi–xcvii.

22 VHR § 4, ActaSS Martii III.387. All translations from the Vita and other texts cited are mine except where credited.

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Here the debt to Alcuin, italicized above, is a little longer than in the Vita of Mildthryth. Whereas a reminiscence of Alcuin’s Vita seems a little random in the biography of a female saint from Kent, it is much more natural in the VHR, explicable as background reading in preparation for composing (or revising) a text in which Willibrord of Echternach is an actor in the story. He is mentioned alongside Boniface consecrating the two sisters as abbesses at Aldeneik (§ 10); we later learn that he and Boniface visited them regularly and that one such visit was the setting for the only life-time miracle attributed to Harlindis and Renula (§ 13). This miracle involves the filling to overflowing of a half-empty wine-barrel, “quod tunna uocatur” (“which is called a tun”), by their prayers, so as to provide for the episcopal guests. This is a touch of humorous irony, since our author lifted the story straight from Alcuin’s Vita Willibrordi c. 18, which shows Willibrord visiting Echternach to inspect it; during his rounds he finds a tun with a small amount of wine (“modicum uini in una repperit tunna”) and blesses it. The following night the barrel fills to overflowing; later Willibrord begs the cellarer conceal the miracle until after his death.23 In the VHR, therefore, Willibrord is made a beneficiary of the repeat of a miracle he himself had secretly wrought. This borrowing, with its reference to the “tunna,” makes it certain that whoever wrote the VHR had Alcuin’s text to hand.24 Given Aldeneik’s tangible connections with England, its proximity to Liège, and this striking use of a shared hagiographical source, could there be mileage in the idea that B. rewrote the VHR, or even composed it for the first time, during his time abroad, commissioned by Bishop Ebrachar or his successor Notger? In fact, the latter was the patron for two works of regional hagiography, Vitae of Remaclus, seventh-century bishop of Maastricht, and of Landoald, missionary to that area of Belgium and buried first at Wintershoven near Maastricht before a translation to Ghent in 980. Both texts, though prefaced by letters in Notger’s name, are almost certainly by the learned Heriger of Lobbes (d. 1007), writing in about 980.25 Evidence from reminiscences in B.’s Vita Dunstani led Winterbottom and Lapidge to suggest that he knew Heriger’s hagiographies.26 Could 23 Alcuin, Vita Willibrordi, ed. Krusch and Levison, 130, who in fact noted (n4) the borrowing into VHR, as also the use of nihil uiderent nisi honesta, etc.

24 The pairing of Boniface and Willibrord became a topos in hagiography, even though in reality their direct collaboration was short (from 719 for about three years). It is fair enough that Willibrord, martyred in 739, might indeed have consecrated Harlindis and Renula, as Bishop of Utrecht and founder of Susteren Abbey, not far from Aldeneik, across the Meuse. Boniface’s involvement would require Aldeneik to have been founded before 722 or for Boniface to have maintained close links with Echternach much later than is generally thought likely, so that his appearance in this text is probably hagiographer’s licence, to add lustre to the women’s story. Dierkens suggested that Willibrord was named to provide a chronological anchor for the VHR; see “Les origines de l’abbaye d’Aldeneik (Premiere moitié du VIIIe siècle). Examen critique,” Le Moyen Age 3–4 (1979): 389–432, at 410 and 422; and on Boniface’s involvement, 423.

25 Both Vitae can be consulted in J.-P. Migne, Patrologia Latina 139:1147–68 (under the name of Notger) and 1109–24 (among Heriger’s other writings) respectively; on the attribution see R. G. Babcock, “Heriger or Notger?: The Authorship of the ‘Gesta Episcoporum Leodiensium’, the ‘Vita Remacli’ and the ‘Vita Landoaldi,’” Latomus 68, no. 4 (2009): 1027–49. 26 Early Lives of St Dunstan, ed. Winterbottom and Lapidge, xcvii.

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it be that as a member of the learned circle of clergy around Ebrachar and then Notger, where the writing of hagiography was evidently one kind of literary pursuit, B. was drawn into the task of commemorating Harlindis and Renula by local traditions about their link with his fellow countryman, Willibrord? Might he indeed have been chosen for the task precisely because of that and whatever other links Aldeneik had with England which brought the embroideries and reliquary there? Perhaps this earlier experience of working on the Vita of Harlindis and Renula for an episcopal patron emboldened B. to propose later that the same could be done for Eadburh and Mildthryth, breaking away from the unremitting focus on male hagiography in the Anglo-Latin hagiographical tradition. In other words, is the common use of a quotation from Alcuin just a coincidence? Or was B., as he set his mind to writing about Kent’s saints, recalling a striking phrase he had used previously in a very fitting context at Aldeneik? What would we need to do make the case for B.’s authorship or revision of the VHR? The diction of his well-attested works is distinctive, with some particular idiosyncrasies, and that will be one area to explore in a preliminary way, as well as similar themes and shared sources like the one already noted. It will also be important to consider the text’s motivation and aims. Historians have been dismissive of the VHR as a source: “le valeur historique…est faible; l’auteur n’a pas en temoignages écrits, il ne connait aucune date,”27 and from an earlier era, “L’écrit est plein de lieux communs et a peu de valeur historique.”28 So let us begin by summarizing this tissue of commonplaces. A brief preface (not, as it survives, addressed to any dedicatee or particular audience) declares the special status among the elect of those who “carnis desideria in se crucifigere demonstrantur” (“are shown to crucify the desires of the flesh in themselves”).29 This lays the groundwork for a claim that the author will make at the end of the text. Harlindis and Renula are born to Adalhard and Grinuara, who, seeing that their daughters are on fire with love of God, send them away to study. Like all saints, the girls are quick pupils, each striving to outdo the other in good works, study, prayer, and so on. They learn reading, psalmody, but also writing and painting, as well as needlework and weaving. After their daughters return home, Adalhard and Grinuara decide to establish a hermitage on their own land, where Harlindis and Renula will be able to dedicate themselves to prayer. After a struggle to find a suitable site, they alight upon a piece of marshy terrain taken up by barren trees, within “a small area of useless woodland” (“paruulam ac inutilem siluam”; where “inutilis” presumably means unsuited to agriculture), a mile from the Meuse. There is a pleasant spring, and this is where they set up a monastery, at a place later known as Eike (Aldeneik). The young women work with local labourers to build their own house of 27 Micheline Soenen, Monasticon Belge, vol. 6, Province de Limbourg (Liège: Abbaye de Maredsous, Centre national de recherche religieuse, 1976), 77. “Its historical value is…thin; the author has no written sources and knows no date.” It should be noted that the authorial admission that no date is known derives from the extra preface added to the original text by Jan Gielemans in the fifteenth century (ActaSS Martii III.386); see note 5 above. 28 Sylvain Balau, Les sources de l’histoire de Liège au Moyen Age, Étude critique (Brussels: Lamertin, 1903), 75; “The text is full of commonplaces and has little historical value.” 29 ActaSS Martii III.386.

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prayer. Adalhard and Grinuara stay there with their daughters and are eventually buried at the church. Harlindis and Renula then decide they need a life of yet harsher asceticism. The devil prowls around them, hoping to tempt young women now lacking the protection of parents, but the sisters are doughty in wielding spiritual weapons. The text devotes significant space to an account of Satan and his defeat by these saints, a purple passage which has the feel of filling the page with inspiring prose applicable to every saintly hermit. At the end of it, we learn that Willibrord and Boniface ordain Harlindis and Renula as abbesses. Then twelve women flock to join their community and the saints pursue a challenging regime of prayer, writing, reading, teaching, and manual labour. Harlindis and Renula shun idleness like a pestilence and signs of their industry remain at Aldeneik after them: cloths, woven by their hands, adorned with gold and pearls (just as the surviving Maaseik embroideries are), a copy of the Four Gospels, a psalter and other books, all still to be seen at the monastery in the hagiographer’s day. This particular feature of the Vita—women writing, painting, and sewing—has been the most often commented on of all, causing it to be highlighted in general studies of female hagiography.30 As we have already seen, the saints work a miracle by praying for more wine to supply the retinues of Willibrord and Boniface. In their edition of the Vita the Bollandists noted that the rhyming Office for the feastday also alluded to another miracle in which demons snuffed out the candles in the church and angels lit them again.31 This is of interest because one of the few in-life miracles B. attributed to Mildthryth involves a candle blown out as she was reading and divinely re-lit.32 As death approaches, Harlindis summons the nuns to exhort them to virtuous living, a moment in the text which Anne-Marie Helvetius sees as marking it out from the other hagiographies of female saints from the period to which it has traditionally been assigned.33 The grieving Renula buries her sister and then resumes combat with the powers of darkness, allowing the hagiographer to indulge in another description of warfare against the devil, clearly a favourite theme. Renula dies in old age, on February 6. The hagiographer recounts a few standard posthumous miracles: restoration of sight and speech, demons cast out, release of a chained penitent, the halt and lame cured. The 30 Suzanne Fonay Wemple, Women in Frankish Society: Marriage and the Cloister, 600 to 900 (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 1985), 153 and 176; Valerie L. Garver, Women and Aristocratic Culture in the Carolingian World (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 2012), 135–38; and Anne-Marie Helvetius, “Les modèles de sainteté dans les monastères de l’espace belge du VIIIe au Xe siècle,” Revue Bénédictine 103 (1993): 51–67, at 65. McKitterick, “Frauen und Schriftlichkeit in Frühmittelalter,” 101, suggested that the VHR was composed by a woman because of the emphasis on women’s literacy and scribal activity. 31 ActaSS Martii, III.390; Lumine preces faciunt, daemones vt hoc sentiunt, / extinguendo abiiciunt, / quod Angeli restituunt (“They pray by lamp-light, and when demons sense this, they take it away by snuffing it out, and angels restore it”). 32 Vita Sanctorum Aethelredi et Aethelberti martirum et sanctarum uirginum Miltrudis et Edburgis § 13, ed. Love, “St Eadburh,” 382–83. 33 Helvetius, “Les modèles de sainteté,” 65.

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lamp at the tomb re-lights itself on a regular basis. Then he turns to the translation: Abbess Ava had the old decaying wooden church at Eike demolished so as to replace it with a stone building, and then Bishop Franco translated the relics into that new church. The Vita concludes with a lengthy passage in which the author claims that the saints won the martyr’s palm not because they died at the hands of persecutors but because they chastised their flesh unceasingly. Then we are told that there are too many more miracles to describe. Somewhat strangely, there follows a passage of direct address to Renula alone (“O gloriosa Renila semperque laudanda”), ending with a general exhortation to the text’s readers, to “feast in the Lord” and pray for eternal life through the intervention of the saints, and with that the text comes verbosely to a halt. This concluding section may give another hint as to the author’s background reading; with characteristic word-play (“fastidioso…fastidium”) the need for brevity is stated thus (§ 25): Nam si in omnibus gestis et miraculis istarum sanctarum Virginum uolumus immorari cunctaque ad liquidum denudare, fit prolixior sermo et ingens libellus ordinatur…Ergo breuianda sunt verba, et quaedam sanctarum Virginum gesta uerbo celanda, ne fastidioso lectori ad alia legenda conanti fastidium ingeratur.34

Fear of causing the reader “fastidium” is a topos found in several other texts, but a strikingly similar variation on the theme occurs in the earliest Vita of Bavo (BHL 1049), written at St. Baafs (St. Peter’s), Ghent, in the early ninth century. There the author observes: Quod si omnia quae de eius gestis comperimus uellemus persequi, dies, ut opinor, antequam sermo cessaret. Pauca a pluribus dixisse sufficiat ne studiosis lectoribus et ad alia festinantibus fastidium ingerere uideamur.35

There is no specific connection between the story of Bavo, seventh-century convert to the monastic life, and Harlindis and Renula, but given that Bavo was born at Haspengouw, northwest of Liège, his cult and hagiography would probably have been familiar to anyone connected to the churches in that area. Bavo’s journey to sainthood, from married soldier to hermit, was very different from that of the two sisters, and yet it is interesting to see the Ghent hagiographer’s emphasis on the saint’s punishing ascetic practices and testing by the devil, an appropriation of the Antonine model of holiness which can be observed also in the VHR upon which it may have had an influence.36 34 ActaSS, Martii III.391, “For if we want to linger over all the deeds and miracles of these holy virgins and set everything out clearly, our discourse grows longer and a vast tome results…And so our words must be cut short and some things about the holy virgins kept quiet, lest we inflict fastidium (disgust) upon the fastidious reader trying to press on to other reading matter.”

35 Vita prima Bavonis § 16; Passiones Vitaeque Sanctorum Aevi Merovingici II, ed. Bruno Krusch, MGH Scriptores Rerum Merovingicarum 4 (Hannover: Hahn, 1902), 545; (If we were wanting to pursue all the things we found out about his deeds, the day, I reckon, would end before our discourse. Let it be enough to have said a few things out of the many, let we seem to inflict “fastidium” upon studious readers and those hasting on to other matters). On this text’s date, see Christoph T. Maier, “Saints, Tradition and Monastic Identity: The Ghent Relics, 850–1100,” Revue belge de Philologie et d’Histoire 85, no. 2 (2007): 223–77, at 230.

36 In particular Vita Bavonis §§ 10–11; Passiones, ed. Krusch, 542–43.

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From this summary of the VHR it should be evident that one of the hagiographer’s chief aims was to draw in the secondary relics at Aldeneik, showing them to be the handiwork of Harlindis and Renula, even though we now know that the textiles came from England and the books from Echternach. The implicit claim that these objects have rightfully belonged at Aldeneik since its foundation is arguably the main driver for stressing the women’s skills with pen and needle.37 Emphasis upon Adalhard’s and Grinuara’s use of their own land, unfit for agricultural purposes, to establish the monastery is clearly also important, and Aldeneik’s contemporary occupants (or patrons, that is, the bishops of Liège after 952) would have seen themselves as the heirs of Harlindis and Renula.38 Reference to Willibrord and Boniface grounds the narrative in a chronological reality and connects the saints to important figures in the Christianization of the region. Noteworthy too is the attempt to claim the martyr’s palm for the two women on account of their extreme asceticism, possibly because that, in fact, seemed the only way for them to qualify as saints. It would be difficult to argue that any of these aims seem less relevant to someone writing in the late ninth century, already at a significant distance of time from the lifetime of the saints, than to an author working as much as a century later. Was there more or less security in Aldeneik’s position in the 860s or 870s than a hundred years later? What else was the hagiographer seeking to achieve? The one other saint mentioned by name in the VHR is Benedict. This comes in a striking comparison drawn verbatim from the very opening of Gregory the Great’s depiction of Benedict in Dialogues, Book II. Renula, nearing her life’s end “egit…ut beatus uir Benedictus aetatem quidem moribus transiens nulli animum dedit uoluptati” (“acted like the blessed man Benedict,” “indeed in her habits transcending her age, she gave no mind to pleasure,” § 19).39 This is an odd fit for the new context, where Renula feels death approach “fatiscentibus senilibus membris” (“as her elderly limbs began to fail”), whereas for Gregory this denoted the remarkable quality of the young Benedict, whose “cor…senile” (“old man’s heart”) “aetatem quippe moribus transiens nulli animum uoluptati dedit.”40 But like the borrowing from the Vita Willibrordi, this is a striking adaptation of male hagiography for depicting women’s holiness. Aside from invoking Benedict by name, the hagiographer furthermore seeks to establish very firmly the Benedictine character of the women’s monastic life: their consecration as abbesses is “secundum normam sancta regulae” (“in accordance with the Rule’s standard,” § 10). Their community’s adherence to the Rule is hammered home: the saints presided over twelve women “easque regularibus institutionibus…pleniter instruebant ac postmodum regularia uota adimplere fecerant et erant illis secundum regulam omnia communia” (“and fully instructed them in the provisions of the Rule and thereafter had them fulfill the vows of the Rule, and they had all things in common, in 37 Vanderputten, Dark-Age Nunneries, 55. 38 Vanderputten, Dark-Age Nunneries, 62. 39 ActaSS Maii III.389.

40 Ed. Adalbert de Vogüé, Sources chrétiennes 260, 265 (Paris: Cerf, 1979), II prologue, line 2.

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accordance with the Rule,” § 11). The saints did manual labour “propter regularia complenda praecepta” (“for the sake of carrying out the precepts of the Rule,” § 12), always interspersed with psalm-singing.41 All of this should probably be seen as the hagiographer’s inflection of the narrative, rather than a picture of the realities of the foundation at Aldeneik: perhaps it was a deliberate imposition of the ideas of male monasticism, as suggested by Vanderputten and Dierkens. 42 Or was it an attempt to fashion a new way of writing about female monastic sanctity by reference to earlier models of male saints? Does it bespeak a desire to establish the orthodox status of the women’s community? If we glance across to B. it is worth noting that although he is thought never to have taken monastic vows but was a secular cleric, he was at Glastonbury during Dunstan’s abbacy, probably coinciding with Æthelwold’s presence there, at a time when the ideals of the Benedictine Rule were undoubtedly a matter of intense study and discussion, in a melting-pot that would go on to produce monastic reforms and refoundations thereafter.43 When B. came to narrate Dunstan’s appointment as abbot of Glastonbury, in similar fashion to the author of the VHR he gave very particular Benedictine emphasis to the point: “Dunstanus iam dictam dignitatem iussu regis…suscepit, et hoc predicto modo saluberrimam sancti Benedicti sequens institutionem primus abbas Anglicae nationis enituit” (“Dunstan took up his office…at the king’s command. And this is how, following the principles of St Benedict, which brings salvation, he shone forth as the premier abbot of the English people”).44 One would think this would have been stating the obvious about an abbot in tenth-century England, less so for Harlindis and Renula, so it should be clear that the hagiographer cared greatly to establish the point, for whatever reason. As already noted, a fascination with Satan and a saint’s battle with the forces of evil also emerges as a prominent theme in the VHR, really the one other thing that the hagiographer can say about the saints, apart from their writing and sewing. Without the protection of their parents, the “antiquus hostis” could assail them: “Quapropter beatae uirgines huic predoni iugiter resistebant, sumentes scutum fidei, loricam spei, galeamque caritatis atque gaudium spiritus quod est salubre uerbum Dei” (“Wherefore the blessed virgins resisted this predator ceaselessly, taking up the shield of faith, the breastplate of hope and the helmet of charity and the joy of the spirit which is the healthful word of God,” § 9).45 Julia Smith’s discussion of women’s hagiography in Carolingian Europe highlights the tendency of the vitae of female saints to revolve around a turning-point in the story, such as the rejection of a suitor, which gave structure to the narrative. But she observes that accounts without such a hinge become simply episodic: “The vitae of those women who never had to contend with an offer of marriage or with plots against 41 ActaSS Maii III.388.

42 Vanderputten, Dark-Age Nunneries, 54–55, which refers back to Dierkens’s conclusions in his unpublished thesis. 43 On B.’s presence at Glastonbury at this time, see Early Lives of St Dunstan, ed. Winterbottom and Lapidge, lxxv. 44 Early Lives of St Dunstan, ed. Winterbottom and Lapidge, 50–51. 45 ActaSS Maii III.388.

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a husband or brother, such as Bertila, Liutberga, Hathumoda, or the sisters Harlindis and Renula, accordingly lack such chronologically ordered segments.”46 If anything, the experience of education depicted in this text proves to be the decisive moment, though it comes too early in the story to be a proper turning-point of the kind that Smith envisages. Yet something else is central to the point Smith makes here: the marriage-offer plot affords a hagiographer the chance to introduce an agonistic twist, a moment of challenge, which can add a martyrial quality to the saint’s portfolio of virtues. Such an event is lacking in the story of Harlindis and Renula, who do not receive marriage proposals, are never in physical danger: instead, here, the repeated emphasis on the devil’s wiles and the spiritual warfare waged by the saints provide the grit, the needed adversary, which enables the hagiographer to claim for them the martyr’s palm. It is as if Harlindis and Renula were constantly re-enacting the battles with demons that characterized the life of that most famous of all saints, Antony, the desert hermit. Demonic testing is a notable feature of B.’s depiction of Dunstan too: in early life “ille auitus humani generis inimicus” puts sexual temptation in his way (“that ancient enemy of the human race,” § 7); and then later come scenes strongly, no doubt intentionally, reminiscent of the Vita Antonii by Athanasius/Evagrius, in which the “ueternus inuisor” (“Old Envier”) attacks Dunstan while he is at prayer, in the shape of a bear, a dog, a viper, and finally a fox (§ 16), returning soon afterwards, again as a bear (§ 17, where the devil is “seductor antiquus” and “fraudator”). Otherworldly visitation also dominates B.’s account of the spiritual life of Mildthryth, who is watched over by a guardian angel while she sleeps, “lest any spectre of the old enemy should come to befoul the sleeping virgin.”47 These are thematic similarities between the Vita Harlindis et Reinule and the hagiography of B., which only get us so far. What about Latinity? The Latin of the VHR was characterized by Van der Essen as “assez boursoufflé” (“rather inflated”), offering “termes arficiellement classiques”, which in his eyes made it typical of the Carolingian period.48 Certainly its texture is both notably polysyllabic and also inclined towards layering of synonymous meaning, that is, saying the same thing twice but with different words, at the level of both phrases and single words, which leads to some long and extremely stilted sentences, arguably a more mannered style than would be typical of Van der Essen’s “latin carolingien.” The quest for dense texture and the lexical variation required for the layering expands the vocabulary well beyond the ordinary, though there are few neologisms and only Grecisms well-assimilated into Latin. The author also liked floridly poetic expressions and patches of strikingly insistent alliteration. As a first example, we might consider the sentence containing the quotation from Alcuin (§ 4): Deinde interpositis et euolutis paucis annis, cum iam sol in arce poli altius figeret cursum, id est, cum humani corporis intellectus iam capacior esset ad aliquid dignoscendum, contemplantes assidue uenerabilium feminarum praenominati genitores iam mat-

46 Julia Smith, “The Problem of Female Sanctity in Carolingian Europe ca. 780–920,” Past and Present 146 (1995): 3–37, at 24. 47 Love, “St Eadburh,” 382–85.

48 Van der Essen, Étude critique, 110.

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uram segetem praeparari ad messem, contemplantes etiam patentem portam ad accipiendam ingredientem sapientiam, commendarunt eas confestim pariter pater ac mater Abbatissae cuiusdam monasterii, quod uulgo Valencina uocatur, diuinis dogmatibus siue humanis artibus religiosisque studiis et sacris litteris erudiendas: ut fragilior aetas ualidioribus inualesceret disciplinis, ubi nihil uiderent nisi honesta, nihil audirent nisi sancta.49

Here, the first clause includes the redundant doublet “interpositis et euolutis,” followed by a poetic image for life’s passage “cum iam sol in arce poli altius figeret cursum.”50 The phrase “in arce poli” was a hexameter cadence particularly beloved of Alcuin, who used it twenty-five times, notably in the preface to book II of his verse Vita Willibrordi (line 12). The way that Adalhard and Grinuara are referred to (“praenominati genitores”) also has the needlessly inflated tone of a legal document. Earlier in the narrative they are “superius nominati” (§ 3) and later Adalhard is “nominatus uir.” Here is the first moment when we can refer across to the diction of B. who, in describing the decision by Dunstan’s parents to send him to Glastonbury, wrote “Videntes itaque parentes prenominati tantam sui excellentiam filii” (5.1); later he referred to Æthelflæd as “praenominata Dei famula” (11.1) and King Edgar as “rex prenominatus” (25.4).51 Next our passage moves on to parallel metaphors for the maturity of the saints: the ripe crop ready for harvest, the door open to let wisdom in (“contemplantes etiam patentem portam ad accipiendam ingredientem sapientiam,” a clause with notable alliteration on p, by far the commonest form of alliteration noted by Winterbottom and Lapidge as a feature of B.’s style).52 Finally the handling of the quotation from Alcuin’s Vita Willibrordi itself is another instance of rhetorical inflation, by which Alcuin’s “relegiosis studiis et sacris litteris erudiendum” becomes the doublet “diuinis dogmatibus siue humanis artibus religiosisque studiis et sacris litteris erudiendas,” inserting an alliterating noun-adjective pair at the same time. That pair, using the admittedly fairly common Grecism “dogma,” may betray one possible influence on the author’s inflated prose, namely Aldhelm of Malmesbury, who in his prefatory comments to the addressees of his prose De uirginitate noted God’s pleasure at seeing them “diuinis dogmatibus erudiri” (“to be instructed in divine teachings”).53 49 “Then, when a few years intervened and passed by, when the sun was already setting its course higher in the citadel of the sky, that is, when the human body’s intellect was already better able to understand things, the aforementioned parents of the venerable women, assiduously noting that the crop was ripe to be readied for the harvest, noting also the door open for letting wisdom enter in, commended them soon, father and mother together, to the abbess of a certain monastery, commonly called Valencina, to be instructed in divine teachings and the arts of men, in religious studies and sacred letters, so that their weaker age could be fortified by sturdier lessons, where they might see nothing except that which is true, hear nothing except that which is holy.” 50 On B.’s use of doublets made up of “superfluous alternatives,” see Early Lives of St Dunstan, ed. Winterbottom and Lapidge, cxv. 51 Early Lives of St Dunstan, ed. Winterbottom and Lapidge, 16, 36, and 78; “the aforementioned parents observing their son’s high qualities…,” “aforementioned handmaid of God,” “aforementioned king.” 52 Early Lives of St Dunstan, ed. Winterbottom and Lapidge, cxv.

53 De uirginitate § 2; Aldhelmi Opera, ed. Rudolf Ehwald, MGH Auctores Antiquissimi 15 (Berlin: Hahn, 1919), 299. Aldhelm’s work survived in manuscripts well beyond England and knowledge of

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The VHR’s numerous references to the devil are further examples of its grandiloquent tone. Satan is double-named “antiquus hostis humanique generis praedo” (“the ancient enemy and the human race’s plunderer”), who sends the sharpest goads and fiery arrows to turn hearts towards sin; “armatae et indutae” (“armed and girt”), the virgins resist “quatenus uersuti deceptoris ualidissimae calliditates etiam in fragili et infirmo sexu femineo fortioribus diuinis auxiliis superarentur” (“so that the mightiest cunningnesses of the crafty deceiver could be overcome by stronger divine helps even in the frail and weak feminine sex”) and note the alliteration in that clause, as well as the doublet, “fragili et infirmo.”54 The adversary is the “apostata et subdolus coluber, primi parentis nostri seductor” (“apostate and subtle snake, seducer of our first parent”), the battle against whom the hagiographer says he should mention as an example for the idle or neglectful who must “all the more zealously, all the more fervently” take up spiritual arms. As if to hammer home the point, he then begins afresh with the same point about this saintly battle: Animaduertentes sanctae Virgines secundum diuinam Scripturam huic aduersario colubro atque prostratori humani generis de apice poli, “mille nomina esse milleque artes nocendi”, arripiebant tot diuine pietatis subsidia, quot illum versipellem criminatorem cognouerant possidere artes nocendi.55

Again, we find a double epithet (“aduersario colubro…prostratori”) to denote the devil. Despite the reference to Scripture here, the italicized phrase is from Vergil’s Aeneid VII.337–8 (“tibi nomina mille, mille nocendi artes”), though one suspects that it derived from an intermediary source that caused our author to think it was scriptural.56 The variety of agentive nouns applied to the devil (“deceptor”, “seductor”, “prostrator”, “criminator”) is typical of this text’s diction, and it should be noted that “prostrator” is otherwise not attested. Besides these four, there are seven other examples of this category of noun in the text overall, mostly common enough (masculine forms “consolator”, “habitator”, “remunerator”, “dator”, and “redditor” and the two feminine forms “bellatrix” and “victrix”).57 his Latin need not therefore be indicative of an author’s origins; that said, it is worth noting that in his letter to Æthelgar, B. referred specifically to his wish to use a copy of the De uirginitate at Winchester; see Early Lives of St Dunstan, ed. Winterbottom and Lapidge, 156 and 158, and also p. lix on indications that detailed study of Aldhelm’s prose diction first began at Glastonbury in Dunstan’s day, that is, when B. would have been in the classroom. 54 § 9, ActaSS Martii III.388.

55 § 10, ActaSS Martii III.388; “When the holy virgins noticed that, according to divine Scripture, this enemy snake and flinger-down of the human race from the peak of heaven has ‘a thousand names and a thousand ways of harming’, they snatched up as many of Divine love’s helps as they knew the shape-changing accuser possessed ways of harming.” 56 For example, the early ninth-century Concordia regularum of Benedict of Aniane includes at § 25 a verbatim quotation from a sermon by Caesarius of Arles (sermon 152), which refers to the devil’s wiles as “insidias inimici de quo scriptum est quod ei sint nomina mille et mille nocendi artes,” where “scriptum est” would give the impression that Scripture is being quoted. 57 The prevalence of this category of nouns in the writing of B. was noted by Early Lives of St Dunstan, ed. Winterbottom and Lapidge, ci–cii.

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The quest for polysyllabic texture sometimes drove the author of VHR to some odd and stilted turns of phrase. The locals see the sisters carrying sand, rush to help build the monastery and then “sequens opus iam collatorum fundamentorum miro et inopinato atque inusitato modo celerrima uelocitate et inestimata consummatione… impleuerent perfecte” (“the subsequent work, on the foundations already laid, they perfectly fulfilled in a marvellous and unexpected and also unaccustomed way with the fastest speed and unguessed-at dispatch,” § 8), where the doublets and pleonasms pile up.58 The virgins take ownership of their monastery “quod relictione haereditaria et paterna traditione…possidebant” (“which they possessed by hereditary bequeathment and paternal handing-down”): the noun “relictio” is more commonly attested with the meaning “adandonment, forsaking,” but here is used to refer to that which is left behind to heirs, a parallel to “paterna traditio” (§ 10), deliberately thus lingering on this important point.59 Stranger still are some instances of plural abstract nouns, such as “bonorum operum exhibitionibus” (“displays of good works,” § 4), the devil’s “ualidissimae calliditates” (“very powerful cunningnesses”), which are overcome by “fortioribus diuinis auxiliis” (“stronger divine helps,” § 9), “regularibus institutionibus” (“instructings in the Rule,” § 11), and “locum requietionum illarum” (“the place of their restings,” § 22).60 This odd use of plurals is among the notable habits that Winterbottom and Lapidge picked out in B.’s prose, and that were tidied away in the “corrected” version of his Vita Dunstani.61 Another example in our text, an unusual use of the plural of “ministerium” (usually “help, support, service, office”) in the typically long-winded doublet-laden “omnibus uero ministeriis in eodem cenobio honeste et rite ordinatis atque…dispositis” (“when all the arrangements in that same monastery had been nobly and correctly set in order and disposed,” § 8), finds a direct parallel usage in the Vita Dunstani, 10.4 “uenerunt…ad uidendum si omnia paratuum ministeria habilia fuissent uel apta” (“came…to see if all her arrangements of preparations were appropriate or suitable”).62 I have already highlighted a couple of rare or newly coined nouns in the VHR, namely “prostrator” and “relictio”; also in this category is the abstract noun “colluctatio” (“struggle,” § 25), used of the saintly fight with the devil, a form very sparsely attested in early texts, though Aldhelm in his treatise on metre used it of Jacob’s wrestling in Genesis 32 (§ 2, “angelicae conluctationis palaestram”).63 Just one Greek-derived noun is perhaps worth noting, namely “hymenaeus,” in the phrase “blandos hymenaeos nuptiarum despicientes” (“despising the alluring nuptials of marriage,” § 11). The noun comes from the world of Classical verse where it is common enough, less so thereafter, especially in prose. There are sixteen occurrences in Vergil, one possible source for our author, 58 ActaSS, Martii III.387. 59 ActaSS, Martii III.388.

60 ActaSS, Martii III.388 and 390.

61 Early Lives of St Dunstan, ed. Winterbottom and Lapidge, xc.

62 ActaSS, Martii III.387, and Early Lives of St Dunstan, ed. Winterbottom and Lapidge, 34–35, translation modified here. 63 Ehwald, Aldhelmi Opera, 69.

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although a more likely source is Aldhelm’s De uirginitate § 23, where John the Baptist is described as “vetitos regalis tori hymeneos compescens” (reproving the forbidden nuptials of the royal bed, referring to Herod; Aldhelm himself took “vetitos…hymeneos” from Aeneid VI.623).64 Apart from these few forms, however, our author’s choice of nouns is not notably inventive or abstruse: there are plenty of nouns in “-amen” (6), “-mentum” (3), “-tio” (7), “-atio” (8), and “-itas” (9), but they are all reasonably well-attested forms, as are the three diminutives in this text (“palliolum”, “clientulus”, and “libellus”, which the author uses as if it were a synonym for “liber”). B.’s noun-choice has been fully documented and there is some overlap in the types of forms identified by Winterbottom and Lapidge and those used in this Vita, with a small number of words in common, but with few really striking matches among the more unusual forms.65 One is the use of “pausatio” to mean resting-place (burial), which is the least common of the various attested connotations of the word: the VHR uses it of the place whence the saints were translated (“de pristinae pausationis loco,” § 23) and B. wrote of a priest’s burial as being “in pausationem perpetuam” (§ 9.4, which his reviser altered to “sepulturam”).66 B. used an array of polysyllabic adjectives too, inventing a few of his own and favouring certain types. Our author explores much the same territory but less adventurously and inventively, using the commoner adjectives in “-alis” and “-bilis”; of these only “irremeabilis” (“impossible to return from”), used of Satan’s expulsion (§ 9), is rare. The range of adverbs in this text follows roughly the pattern of B.’s usage, with a preference for those in “-iter” (ten examples, none of them unusual, but, notably, more of them than in all of B.’s writings) and in “-im” (eight examples, again none of them especially rare or invented). One archaic adverb our author does use in common with B. is “oppido” (“exactly, precisely”), confined in the Classical period to informal dialogue: that is precisely the context in which B. used it, in the speech of a tetchy steward (§ 27.3).67 In the VHR it occurs twice, first in what one might term an authorially conversational context, when the women’s punishing schedule of psalmody, to which the extra burden of writing and painting is added, prompts the acerbic aside “quod huius aeui robustissimis uiris oppido onerosum uidetur” (“which to the sturdiest men of this age precisely seems burdensome,” § 5).68 One wonders whether the desire for an alliterating cadence was partly the driver for that choice. The author used this adverb one further time, not in a conversational context, at § 15: “oppido solicitae fuerunt suam sanctam infantiam omnipotenti Domino consecrari” (“they were concerned exactly to consecrate their holy infancy to the almighty Lord”), possibly again drawn by the chance for alliteration.69 64 Ehwald, Aldhelmi Opera, 254.

65 Early Lives of St Dunstan, ed. Winterbottom and Lapidge, xcviii–civ.

66 ActaSS, Martii III.390 and Early Lives of St Dunstan, ed. Winterbottom and Lapidge, 32.

67 Early Lives of St Dunstan, ed. Winterbottom and Lapidge, 82–83; they comment on this archaism at p. cxi. 68 ActaSS, Martii III.387. 69 ActaSS, Martii III.389.

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Another way that our author tried to elevate his text’s tone was by abundant use of connectives, sometimes bleached of their correct meaning, a feature of B.’s diction that was noted by Winterbottom and Lapidge.70 A favourite in the VHR is “namque” (“for indeed” or “for”) but used in contexts where the intended meaning seems more like “also” or “and so.” Two clear cases are the start of § 5, which, immediately following an account of how the girls strove to be more virtuous than one another, goes on to describe the things they studied, headed with “In praedicto namque monasterio” (“For in the aforementioned monastery…”); § 22 recounts a miracle at the shrine, of six persons who came possessed by demons, and then “Unus namque aderat ferro ligatus” (“For one was present bound with iron,” where “also” is clearly what is intended). “Equidem” (“truly,” “indeed,” “at all events”) is used similarly on four occasions, for three of which it seems like a filler (§§ 17, 19, 23). “Itaque” (“therefore”) is used once to start a sentence that is far from being a logical consequence of what has gone before, simply inaugurating a new topic: “Prolixum itaque est de omnibus miraculis…tendere historiam” (“[Therefore] it is a long task to set out the tale of all their miracles,” § 13). This author was also particularly keen on “scilicet” and “uidelicet” (“to wit,” “namely”), especially using them to specify someone by name (“Adalhardus uidelicet atque Griuara” and “scilicet Adalhardus et Grinuara” in quick succession in § 3, again repeatedly in short space in § 21 “uidelicet quod tres muti ibidem fuerant locuti, scilicet Ricolfus, et Hildigerus, atque Blitherius”…“Vnus autem ex illis, scilicet Blitherius…”), and on five further occasions in other contexts. Such cliquéd writing was one of the features of B.’s Vita Dunstani that his reviser tried to exstirpate: “uidelicet” and “scilicet” occur thirty-six times in that text, often again naming an individual “almi scilicet Dunstani” (prologue 1), “beatum uidelicet Dunstanum” (§ 6.1), “teste suo Dauid scilicet fideli” (§ 6.3), and so on.71 There are other ways to beautify prose apart from the features that we have noted so far. Another adornment which Winterbottom and Lapidge noted in B.’s writing is hyperbaton, in particular the separation of adjective-noun pairs.72 All the types of hyperbaton they mention occur also in the VHR, for example, placing a preposition between noun and adjective, as in “miris in modis” (“in remarkable ways,” § 5), “illo in loco” (“in that place”), “summa cum alacritate” (“with utmost alacrity”), and “mirum in modum” (all in § 12); or placing a verb or participle in that position, as in “diuinis paruere praeceptis” (“they obeyed divine commandments,” § 2), “purum ac plenum protulit fructum” (“bore pure and abundant fruit,” § 2), “perpetuam regenerauit ad uitam” (“gave new birth to eternal life,” § 3), “nimio repletus gaudio” (“filled with overflowing joy,” § 7) and “in angelorum extitit numero” (“was among the number of angels,” § 9), just a few examples from many; and enclosing a genitive noun within a noun-adjective pair with the verb outside, as in “toto mentis nisu inhiare cernuntur” (“seem to long for with the whole mind’s striving,” § 1), “paganorum culturam idolorum micare cernentes” (“seeing the 70 Early Lives of St Dunstan, ed. Winterbottom and Lapidge, xc–xci.

71 Cf. Early Lives of St Dunstan, ed. Winterbottom and Lapidge, lxxxviii–lxxxix, and 2–3, 20–21, 22–23. 72 Early Lives of St Dunstan, ed. Winterbottom and Lapidge, cxvi–cxvii.

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worship of pagan idols burning bright,” § 2) and “prioribus aetatis suae annis impendebant” (“which they devoted in the earlier years of their life,” § 9).73 Word-play could also be mentioned as a feature of VHR, as it is of B.’s writing too, and along similar lines, demonstrated in phrases such as “cum iamiamque congruum tempus adueniret et conuenienter congrueret” (“when little by little the suitable time approached and appropriately suited,” § 6, where the Latin also alliterates more than is feasible in English), “animam uiuido rigore uirentem atque rite uiuentem” (“[her] soul, vigorous with vivid rigour and rightly [re]viving,” § 17) and the simple doublet “memoratas semperque memoria dignas” (“aforementioned and always worthy of mention,” § 12). Sometimes the play is just with a repeated syllable combined with other patterns of alliteration, as in “omnibus ad Catholicam fidem se conuertentibus eamque conseruantibus, ueram ueniam de pristinis peccatis promerituros et vitam sempiternam consecuturos pollicendo” (“with all converting to the Catholic faith and conserving it, by promising to earn real remission of past peccadillos and to gain everlasting life,” § 2), or with opposites in rhyming clauses “quaedam silentio celabo, quaedam uero stylo narrabo” (“some I shall seal with silence, but some reveal with my stylus,” § 13).74 We have already seen that B. and the author of the VHR shared a couple of wordy ways of naming people (“praenominatus” or “nominatus” and use of “scilicet/ uidelicet”).75 There is another too, for both personal and place names: the VHR introduces the mother of the two saints as “Genitrix autem Grinuara uocabulum tenuit” (“the mother had the name Grinwara,” § 3) and says of their church “monasterium Eike uocabulum indiderunt” (“they gave the monastery the name Eike,” § 8) with which we may compare B.’s “Antiquo Anglorum uocabulo Glaestonia uocitata” (Vita S. Dunstani §3.2), “Anglorum uocabulo Thunor uocitatus” (Passio Aethelberti et Aethelredi § 2.1) and “Anglorum uocabulo interpretatur” (Vita Edburge § 1).76 A few other idioms link the VHR with B.: when the parents are buried we read “corpora…iacent humata” (§ 8) which can be placed alongside “humata requiescunt” (Vita S. Dunstani § 9.2) and “iacebant negligenter humata” (Passio Aethelberti et Aethelredi § 3).77 Several times, B. uses the noun “caterua” (“troop”) to denote groups of people (Vita S. Dunstani §§ 20.51, 23.3 and 25.2) and we find one case in our Vita, perhaps driven by the appeal of achieving alliteration thereby: “congregata multitudine uirorum atque coniuncta caterua feminarum” (“having congregated a multitude of men combined with a crowd of women”).78 73 It seems very likely that such arrangements were driven by the wish to attain certain rhythms in the prose, a matter that there is not the space to pursue in full here. On B.’s rhythmical prose, see Early Lives of St Dunstan, ed. Winterbottom and Lapidge, cxvii–cxviii. 74 Cf. Early Lives of St Dunstan, ed. Winterbottom and Lapidge, cxv–cxvi. 75 See pp. 151 and 155 above.

76 Early Lives of St Dunstan, ed. Winterbottom and Lapidge, 12–13; Love, “St Eadburh,” 374 and 384. 77 Early Lives of St Dunstan, ed. Winterbottom and Lapidge, 32 and Love, “St Eadburh,” 376. 78 ActaSS, Martii III.387.

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As far as verbs are concerned, here again the author of the Vita shows a strong preference for the more polysyllabic options for describing action, often with finite verbs accompanied by gerunds or gerundives (there is one notable sentence that has a string of four gerundives followed by eleven gerunds).79 But there are no neologisms. An aspect of our author’s usage that intersects with B.’s is a fondness for verbs with the prefix “per”, of which we find, with the prepositional meaning of the prefix to the fore, “perago” (used four times in different forms), “peragro”, “perduro”, “perduco” (twice), and “peruenio” (twice), and with the intensifying meaning, “permisceo” and “perstringo.”80 The combination of this habit with the pull towards alliteration is illustrated in a sequence of three verbs with “per-” in succession: “propter regularia complenda praecepta uel uaria ornamenta peragenda monasterio profutura, semper psalmorum modulatione permixta, minime in his diutius perdurabant” (“on account of needing to fulfil the Rule’s precepts or carry out the various arrangements that would beneft the monastery, always with the singing of psalms interspersed, they did not persist longer in these [works of manual labour],” § 12). In tracing the activity of the reviser of the Vita Dunstani, Winterbottom and Lapidge highlighted B.’s idiosyncratic approach to the tenses and moods of verbs, which often meant that his pluperfect indicatives and subjunctives were changed for the correct forms.81 Use of perfect infinitive where one would expect present is another of B.’s foibles.82 The author of the VHR shares all the same uncertainties. Early in the text comes an imperfect verb used in parallel with a perfect form: “Pater uero illarum virginum Adalhardus uocabatur, genitrix autem Grinuara uocabulum tenuit” (“the father of those virgins was called Adalhard, their mother has the name Grinuara,” § 2).83 There are quite a few cases of a pluperfect indicative used inappropriately or unnecessarily: “in uniuersi operis arte…miris in modis extiterant perfectae opifices” (“in craft of every kind…they had been perfect workers,” § 5); “quo potius sibi approximasse diem sanctae suae dormitionis senserant, eo amplius corporibus suis crudeliores extiterant” (“the closer they had felt the day of their death to have approached, the crueller they had increasingly been to their bodies,” § 13), where the author has also used the perfect infinitive “approximasse” when the present form would have been more correct); “eodem tempore, quo inclyta Dei uirgo Harlindis de seculo presenti…uocata migrauit, mox praestantissima Reinila Virgo in diuini cultus calle…presserat pedem” (“at the same time as the famous virgin of God, Harlindis, was called to pass from the present world, soon the most excellent Renula, the virgin, had pressed her foot…on the path of divine worship,” § 18); “tres muti ibidem fuerant locuti” (“three mute men had spoken in the same place,” § 21).84 There are also cases of pluperfect subjunctive used inappro79 Chapter 2, ed. ActaSS, Martii III.386.

80 Cf. Early Lives of St Dunstan, ed. Winterbottom and Lapidge, cvi–cvii. 81 Early Lives of St Dunstan, ed. Winterbottom and Lapidge, xci–xciii. 82 Early Lives of St Dunstan, ed. Winterbottom and Lapidge, cxiii.

83 ActaSS, Martii III.386; cf. Early Lives of St Dunstan, ed. Winterbottom and Lapidge, xci–xcii. 84 ActaSS, Martii III.387, 389, 390.

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priately: “ualdeque soliciti fuerunt, quid ex eis facturi essent, si ad intelligibilem aetatem peruenissent” (“they were very anxious as to what they would do about them, if they had reached the age of reason,” § 3); “explorabant, si alicubi tam aptus locus inueniri potuisset” (“they were looking around to see if such a suitable place could have been found anywhere,” § 7); “cum iam pene desperantes fuissent” (“when they had been almost in despair,” § 7); “neque illas…praedictus serpens suis acutissimis stimulis uulnerare ualeret, nec ignitis suis sagittis cor earum ad quodpiam criminale opus instigare quiuisset” (“the aforementioned serpent was not able to wound them…with his very sharp goads, nor he had been able to prompt their heart to some sinful act with his blazing arrows,” § 9, where the pluperfect is parallel with an imperfect subjunctive).85 As well as the instance of unsuitable use of the perfect infinitive already noted, there is at least one other example, in § 2: “aduertentes et comperientes delubra falsorum deorum pullulasse, et ritu paganorum culturam idolorum micare cernentes…” (“noticing and discovering that the shrine of false gods had sprouted, and seeing that the worship of idols is conspicuous for the ritual of heathens…”) a perfect infinitive parallel with a present infinitive.86 B. adorned his Vita S. Dunstani with poems of his own fashioning, and Winterbottom and Lapidge also showed that his identifiable reading included a range of Christian Latin verse, but no Classical Latin poetry. The prose of the VHR has a strongly poetic flavour, so to speak, with glimpses here and there of catchy nuggets from the author’s remembered reading, again seemingly limited to post-Classical sources. We have already noted a line, and a shorter phrase, from Vergil, both of which the author had perhaps encountered only at second hand. There is space here for just a few other examples. In his preface the author imagines that the asceticism of the saints lifts them aloft: “ueluti pennifero uolatu angelicis alis quotidie caelum penetrare uidentur” (“as if with feathered flight on angelic wings they daily seem to penetrate the heavens”), and “pennifero uolatu,” which sounds so likely to be poetic, probably in fact recalls “pennigero uolatu…aufugit” in Jerome’s Vita Pauli § 8. That asceticism is strikingly described as “contra machimenta hostis antiqui ac proprii corporis blandimenta dimicare” (“to strive against the machinations of the ancient foe and one’s own body’s temptations”), a clause lifted straight, it would seem, from one of the Mass-prefaces in the version of Gregorian Sacramentary supplemented in the early ninth century by Benedict of Aniane (“Qui eos dimicantes contra antiqui hostis machimenta et proprii corporis blandimenta…rex gloriae, roborasti”).87 As time passes, the sisters ramp up their ascetic practices, “quasi iam ultimum diem ipsarum in foribus et liminibus astare uidissent” (“as if they had already seen their last day standing at the door and threshold,” § 13). The doublet “fores et limina” is attested in Statius’s Thebaid (9.723) but also in the fourth-century Euangelia by Juvencus, significantly in a passage rendering the parable of the wise and foolish virgins (Matthew 25:1–13), 85 ActaSS, Martii III.386, 387, 388. 86 ActaSS, Martii III.386.

87 Jean Deshusses, Sacramentum Gregorianum: supplementa, Spicilegium Friburgense 24 (1979), 59 (no. 1924), prescribed for Mass on any saint’s feast-day.

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Jesus’s teaching on being prepared for the coming of the Kingdom. The foolish virgins beat in vain upon the Groom’s “fores et limina clausa” (“door and closed-up threshold,” 4.221). The very first line of Juvencus’s poem (“Inmortale nihil mundi conpage tenetur”) lies behind the author’s statement “Duplex in his uirginibus in mundi compage fulserat uita” (“in the framework of the world [i.e., while on earth], a double life had shone out in these virgins,” § 24, referring to their mercy to others and cruelty to themselves). Renula decides to translate the body of Harlindis: “non poterat pati ut sarcophagum suae sororis tegeret tellus” (“she could not bear that earth should cover her sister’s coffin,” § 17). The alliterating collocation “tegeret tellus” is reasonably rare and occurs just twice in Classical Latin verse (Ovid, Ars Amatoria 2.96, “ossa tegit tellus” and Lucan’s Pharsalia 9.1090–91, “crimina solum / uestra tegat tellus”) but perhaps more significantly, given the wider context, in Aldhelm’s Carmen de uirginitate, line 2344, “Quamuis ossa tegat tellus et tumba sepulcri” (“although earth and the sepulchre’s tomb may cover the bones”). A full search for sources still remains to be conducted, but so far nothing has emerged that would put the VHR anywhere near the strongly Classicizing hagiographies by Heriger, littered with quotations from Horace, Cicero, and the like.88 It is time to wrap up this caper now, as Paulus would call it. The Vita Harlindis et Renulae is a unusual text, in a quirky style of prose, several features of which match those of B.’s writings. If this were B.’s first literary venture, it could be that features of his diction which seem more marked in the Vita S. Dunstani than here—more neologisms, more diminutives, for example—burgeoned as his confidence grew. In the setting of other hagiography produced at Liège it is less ambitious, yet distinctive in its literary style. Conclusive proof that it was written (or perhaps rewritten, using the thinnest of earlier information about the cult) by B., that crucial piece of DNA evidence, might seem to be lacking, but further analysis will either bear fruit and support the theory, or will show that too much of the present thought-experiment is flawed by confirmation bias.89

88 On the abundant Classical and late Antique sources used by Heriger, see Babcock, “Heriger or Notger?,” 1039–40.

89 I have been in discussion with Dr. Jeroen de Gussem at Ghent University whose project, CrossChannel Stylistic Exchanges: A Stylometric Approach to the Impact of Mobility and Multilingualism on Medieval Latin Literature (1000–1150), uses computational modelling to quantify style, with a focus on Latin function words, and we hope to use B. and his texts as a case study.

Chapter 8

WHEELOCK’S BEDE AND ITS SUPPLEMENTARY MATERIALS: GOALS AND METHODS TIMOTHY GRAHAM ABRAHAM WHEELOCK (1593–1653) was the first individual to hold a university appointment dedicated to research on the earliest phase of English history and the study of texts written in the Old English language. In the late 1630s, the noted antiquary Sir Henry Spelman (ca. 1562–1641) provided the funding for Wheelock to take up a lectureship in “British and Saxon Antiquities” at the University of Cambridge.1 Spelman’s primary goal in creating the lectureship was to enable Wheelock to conduct research on the rich array of manuscripts of the Anglo-Saxon period available in Cambridge. Having been the university’s librarian since 1629, Wheelock enjoyed privileged access to the university library’s own collection; he also closely studied manuscripts in several of the university’s constituent colleges, in particular, Corpus Christi College and Trinity College. The major product of Wheelock’s tenure of the lectureship was a magnificent edition of the Venerable Bede’s Ecclesiastical History of the English People that issued from the university’s presses in 1643 and that displayed Bede’s eighth-century Latin text in parallel columns with the Old English translation of the Ecclesiastical History made in the late ninth or early tenth century.2 Wheelock supplemented his edition with extensive notes that he appended to many of the individual chapters of Bede’s work. These notes incorporate numerous quotations from a broad array of the Old English texts that Wheelock encountered in the manuscripts he studied. As he emphasizes in the book’s prefatory materials (comprising two epistles dedicatory and a preface to the reader), the major goal of Wheelock’s publication was to present evidence that, in his view, demonstrated the historical basis of the doctrines and practices of the Anglican church against its Roman Catholic counterpart. This was an enterprise in which Wheelock had a personal and professional stake: he had been ordained as an Anglican priest in 1622 and was the vicar of Cambridge’s church of the Holy Sepulchre, the twelfth-century round church located near the intersection of Bridge Street and St. John’s Street. As I have argued elsewhere, the great majority of the topics that Wheelock explores in the notes to his edition of Bede relate to the basic tenets of Anglican belief as laid out in the Thirty-Nine Articles, the set of doctrinal formulae that the Church of England promulgated under Elizabeth I in 1563, were reissued 1 On the creation of the lectureship, see especially J. C. T. Oates, Cambridge University Library: A History, vol. 1: From the Beginnings to the Copyright Act of Queen Anne (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1986), 185–88.

2 Historiæ ecclesiasticæ gentis Anglorum libri V. a venerabili Beda presbytero scripti…quibus in calce operis Saxonicam chronologiam…contexuimus, ed. Abraham Wheelock (Cambridge: Roger Daniel, 1643).

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at Charles I’s command in 1628, and that all Anglican priests had to swear to uphold.3 As Wheelock conducted the researches connected with his lectureship, he found that not only Bede’s work, but also a large array of Old English texts—in particular, the two series of Catholic Homilies by Ælfric (ca. 950–ca. 1010), the preeminent author of late Anglo-Saxon England—contained passages that threw light on the early English church’s views on the key topics covered by the Thirty-Nine Articles. Among those topics were the sufficiency of Scripture for establishing what was necessary for human salvation, the relationship between faith and good works, the sacraments, predestination and free will, penance and confession, and the status of relics. Wheelock used the notes of his edition to present and discuss passages relevant to these topics that he found in the manuscripts that he studied. Altogether, his notes quote 129 passages derived from a total of eighty-five different Old English texts, along with two passages derived from a Middle English source; eleven manuscripts provided him with these materials. Seventyeight of the quoted passages are excerpted from forty-seven of Ælfric’s Catholic Homilies (nineteen of the First Series homilies and twenty-eight of the Second Series). Table 8.1, appended to this article, provides a conspectus of all the vernacular English passages that Wheelock quotes in the notes to his edition. A major goal of the present chapter is to offer an analysis of the evidence that attests to Wheelock’s research on the manuscripts that supplied the textual material laid out in those notes. First, however, two examples will be provided to demonstrate how Wheelock deployed the material that he so zealously accumulated. The first example is comparable to those presented in my previous study: it relates to a set of topics that feature in the Thirty-Nine Articles. The second example demonstrates that not every issue explored by Wheelock in his edition bore a direct relation to the Articles: it addresses a topic not covered there but that was nevertheless prominent in Reformation England and that took on new significance in Wheelock’s lifetime, during the reign of the first two Stuarts.

Monarch, Church, and Jurisdiction

Fundamental to the establishment of an independent Church of England during the Reformation was the principle that the reigning monarch was the head of the national church. The Act of Supremacy issued by King Henry VIII in 1534 declared the monarch the only supreme head on earth of the Church of England. Although the Act was repealed during the reign of the Roman Catholic Mary (1553–1558), it was reissued in revised form by Elizabeth I in 1559 and in this form remained in force until the nineteenth century. Declaring the monarch to be the supreme governor of the realm in mat3 See Timothy Graham, “Abraham Wheelock, Agent of Anglicanism, and the Deployment of Old English Texts in the 1643 Edition of Bede’s Ecclesiastical History of the English People,” in Textual Identities in Early Medieval England: Essays in Honour of Katherine O’Brien O’Keeffe, ed. Jacqueline Fay, Rebecca Stephenson, and Renée Trilling (Cambridge: Brewer, 2022), 170–204. The present chapter is intended to complete my account of the research that underlies, and is reflected in, the supplementary materials in Wheelock’s edition of Bede.



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ters ecclesiastical and spiritual as well as temporal, the Elizabethan Act also proclaimed the monarch’s freedom from any external jurisdiction; all clergy and public officials were required to swear an oath to uphold the Act, on pain of being found guilty of treason. Number 37 of the Thirty-Nine Articles, “Of Ciuill Magistrates,” addresses the same issues, underlining the monarch’s freedom from subjection to any outside power and making specific reference to the pope’s lack of jurisdiction in England: The Queenes Maiestie hath the chiefe power in this Realme of England…vnto whom the chiefe gouernement of all estates of this Realme, whether they be Ecclesiasticall or Ciuill, in all causes doeth appertaine, and is not, nor ought to bee subiect to any forreine Iurisdiction…The Bishop of Rome hath no Iurisdiction in this Realme of England.4

Article 21, “Of the authority of general Councells,” further defined the nature of royal authority within the Anglican church by according to the monarch (not the archbishop of Canterbury) the power to summon a synod: “Generall Councels may not bee gathered together without the commandement and will of Princes.”5 These stipulations explain Wheelock’s interest in underlining what Bede and Old English homiletic texts revealed about the relationship between kings and their leading churchmen and in drawing attention to homiletic assessments of the status of St. Peter, the first bishop of Rome. Book III, chapter 3 of the Ecclesiastical History describes how King Oswald of Northumbria (r. 634–642) summoned St. Aidan from Iona to spread Christianity throughout his kingdom and establish the bishopric of Lindisfarne. This and subsequent chapters describe the exceptionally harmonious relationship between the two men. Bede’s account of how Oswald always listened carefully to Aidan’s advice, and how he busied himself to establish and extend the church throughout his kingdom, leads Wheelock to quote two Old English homiletic texts that outline the respective duties of king and bishop. He first quotes a passage of the homily Feria secunda letania maiore from Ælfric’s Second Series, in which the homilist, outlining the respective roles of king and bishop, observes that the king’s duty is to embody justice and wisdom while guiding and correcting his people; the bishop’s function is to constantly instruct those committed to his care with book-based teaching and to set them a good example: Cyninge gerist rihtwisnyss ⁊ wisdom. Him is nama gesett of soþum reccendome. Þæt he hine sylfne. ⁊ siþþan his leode mid wisdome wissige. ⁊ wel gerihtlæce….Biscop sceal læran his leode symble mid boclicere lare. ⁊ him bysnian wel.6

4 Articles Agreed Vpon by the Archbishops and Bishops of Both Prouinces, and the Whole Cleargie: In the Conuocation Holden at London, in the Yeere 1562. For the Auoiding of Diuersities of Opinions, and for the Stablishing of Consent Touching True Religion. Reprinted by His Maiesties Commandment: with His Royall Declaration Prefixed Thereunto (London: Bonham Norton and John Bill, 1628), sigs. D2v–D3r. I quote the text of the Articles from the 1628 reissue as this was the version circulating in Wheelock’s own time. 5 Articles (1628), sig. C2v.

6 Historiæ ecclesiasticæ gentis Anglorum libri V, ed. Wheelock (hereafter Wheelock, HE), 167–68. The passage corresponds to Ælfric, Feria secunda letania maiore, in Ælfric’s Catholic Homilies: The Second Series, Text, ed. Malcolm Godden, Early English Text Society, Supplementary Series, 5 (London: Oxford University Press, 1979), no. XIX, lines 93–96 and 100–1.

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(Justice and wisdom become a king; on him is set a name of true governance, that he direct himself and then his people with wisdom, and correct them well…A bishop should constantly instruct his people with book-based teaching and set them a good example.)

Wheelock follows this up with a passage from Ælfric’s First Series homily for the second Sunday after Easter that further emphasizes the bishop’s duty to serve his flock through teaching and prayer.7 He then has a further opportunity to address the role of the monarch, and the subordination of the highest-ranking ecclesiastics to him, in his note on Book IV, chapter 28, which describes the synod that appointed Cuthbert to the bishopric of Lindisfarne in 685. Wheelock draws attention to Bede’s statement that it was “sub præsentia regis Ecgfridi” (in the presence of King Ecgfrith) that Archbishop Theodore presided over the synod; the preposition sub (literally “under”), Wheelock argues, shows that from the earliest times, the monarch was present at church councils and that the archbishop was subordinate in authority to him. He corroborates this by citing two passages from Anglo-Saxon law codes, one noting that King Æthelstan (r. 924–939) summoned the synod at Grateley that was attended by the archbishop of Canterbury along with all the king’s thegns, the other recording that King Edmund (r. 939–946) convened in London a great Eastertide synod of both spiritual and temporal officials.8 Wheelock commented on the monarch’s freedom from outside interference, and on the Anglo-Saxon church’s view of St. Peter, in his notes on Book II, chapter 17, Book III, chapter 25, and Book V, chapter 7 of the Ecclesiastical History. The first of these chapters, in its original Latin version, includes the complete text of a letter of encouragement from Pope Honorius I to King Edwin of Northumbria (r. 616–633) in which the pope urges the monarch to persist in his newly adopted Christian faith. This letter, in common with the other papal letters quoted by Bede, was not included in the Old English translation of the Ecclesiastical History.9 Wheelock believed the translation to be the work of King Alfred (r. 871–899), as he first states in his epistle dedicatory to the chancellor, vice-chancellor, and other dignitaries of Cambridge University and then repeats at numerous points in his edition.10 In his notes to Book II, chapter 17, Wheelock attributes the omission of the letters to the royal translator’s wish to avoid the suggestion of 7 Wheelock, HE, 168. The passage corresponds to Ælfric, Dominica II post Pasca, in Ælfric’s Catholic Homilies: The First Series, Text, ed. Peter Clemoes, Early English Text Society, Supplementary Series 17 (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1997), no. XVII, lines 18–24, 26–27, and 41–46).

8 Wheelock, HE, 354. The texts quoted from II Æthelstan and I Edmund correspond to Die Gesetze der Angelsachsen, ed. Felix Liebermann, 3 vols. (Halle: Niemeyer, 1903–16), 1:166, lines 1–3, and 1:184, lines 1–4.

9 The Old English version does include a summary of Pope Gregory’s letter to Augustine in Book I, chapter 23, and provides a full translation of the Liber responsionum, Gregory’s set of responses to Augustine’s questions, which constitutes Book I, chapter 27 of the Ecclesiastical History. The other papal letters are entirely omitted from the translation.

10 For the initial attribution in the epistle dedicatory, see Wheelock, HE, sig. A2r. As he notes in the preface to the reader (sig. B1r), Wheelock based the attribution on statements by Ælfric in his Second Series homily on Pope Gregory I and by the twelfth-century historian William of Malmesbury in his Gesta regum Anglorum; see Graham, “Abraham Wheelock, Agent of Anglicanism,” 170 n. 3.



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the pope’s superior authority implicit in his form of address to the monarch: Wheelock notes that Honorius’s greeting Edwin as his filius (“son”), a term that is repeated in all the other papal letters to kings quoted by Bede, implies the monarch’s subjection to the pontiff. The translator, Wheelock concludes, omitted the papal letters out of his wish to suppress the suggestion of lèse majesté implied by the papal form of address: Sed Regum in subditis suis a P. Romano Majestati læsæ, mederi satagit Saxonicus interpres, fortissimus Anglorum rex Aluredus; Epistolas enim omnes Pontificum Romanorum quia Romæ Veteris Fastum, licet occultum, sapere, Regi visæ sunt, e versione sua Saxonica eliminavit.11

(But the Saxon translator, Alfred, most courageous king of the English, took care to remedy the harm done by the Roman pope to the majesty of kings among their subjects. For he omitted from his Saxon translation all the letters of the Roman pontiffs, because they seemed to the king to smack of the haughtiness, even if concealed, of Old Rome.)

Wheelock then underlines the level of authority that the Anglo-Saxon church accorded the monarch by quoting a passage from a homily for the Sunday after Ascension Day in which Ælfric describes the king as the vicar of Christ himself, consecrated to watch over his people: Se cyning is Cristes sylfes speligend ofer ðam Cristenan folce ðe Crist sylf alysde him to hyrde gehalgod. ðæt he hi healdan sceolde mid þæs folces fultume wið yfele menn. ⁊ onfeohtende here ⁊ him sige biddan æt ðam soþan hælende þe him þone anweald under him sylfum forgeaf.12

(The king is Christ’s own vicar over the Christian people, whom Christ himself redeemed, consecrated as their shepherd, so that, with the people’s help, he may keep them safe against evil men and an attacking army, and beseech victory from the true saviour who granted him dominion under himself.)

Book III, chapter 25, which covers the synod that took place at Whitby in 664 to resolve the dispute between Celtic and Roman factions about the dating of Easter, prompts Wheelock to offer a rounded assessment of the Anglo-Saxon church’s teaching about St. Peter, which in turn had implications for the nature and extent of the authority of the pope, Peter’s successor. Wheelock’s first note on the chapter is prompted by its ending with King Oswy (r. 642–670) accepting the Roman teaching on the calculation of the date of Easter as soon as Wilfrid, the spokesperson for the Roman viewpoint, has stated that Jesus gave Peter the keys to the heavenly kingdom. Wheelock’s goal is to counter this assertion of Peter’s special authority with other texts that give a fuller picture of the Anglo-Saxon church’s views about Peter’s status among the apostles. He opens the note by observing that those views provide historical justification for the Anglican church’s 11 Wheelock, HE, 151. See also Wheelock’s further thoughts on the omission of the papal letters in note b to the following chapter, Book II, chapter 18 (p. 153).

12 Wheelock, HE, 151. The full passage here quoted by Wheelock corresponds to Ælfric, Dominica post ascensionem domini, in Homilies of Ælfric: A Supplementary Collection, ed. John C. Pope, 2 vols., Early English Text Society, Original Series 259–60 (London: Oxford University Press, 1967–1968), no. IX, lines 48–53.

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stance and have the potential to throw significant light on the controversy over Peter’s authority: Quin veteris Ecclesiæ Romano-Saxonicæ autoritas, totam controversiam de Petro, & fide Petri ita illustrat, ut hinc nosmetipsos doctrinæ Catholicæ a doctoribus nostris acceptæ, non innovatores esse facile evincamus.13 (The authority of the ancient Romano-Saxon church sheds light on the whole dispute surrounding Peter and his faith in such a way that we may thereby easily prove that we ourselves are no innovators in regard to the catholic doctrine received from our teachers.)

Having offered this comment, he quotes one passage from the Second Series homily for the feast of St. Peter followed by two from the First Series homily for the Passion of Sts. Peter and Paul in order to demonstrate Ælfric’s teaching that the church was founded upon Christ, not Peter, and that the other apostles were given power equal to Peter’s.14 In each of the first two passages, Ælfric notes that, as Paul wrote (1 Corinthians 10: 4), Christ himself is the rock (petra) on which the church is founded. Christ’s words to Peter, “Upon this rock I will build my church” (Matthew 16: 18), mean, in Ælfric’s interpretation, “I will build my church upon myself; I will build you upon me, not me upon you” (“Ofer me sylfne ic getimbrige mine cyrcan. ofer me ic getimbrige ðe. na me ofer ðe”). The final passage quoted by Wheelock addresses Christ’s transmission of power to the entire body of the apostles. Ælfric here observes that, when he breathed the Holy Spirit upon the apostles after his resurrection (John 20: 22–23), Christ stated that he had invested all of them—not just Peter—with the power to forgive sins; the Almighty, Ælfric continues, gives the same power to all bishops and priests if they carefully guard it upon the foundation of the gospel. Book V, chapter 7 enables Wheelock to continue to explore the Anglo-Saxon church’s teaching about Peter and to quote additional statements to the effect that the other apostles had power equal to his. The chapter describes the pilgrimage of King Cadwalla of Wessex to Rome in 689 and his baptism by Pope Sergius, who gave him the baptismal name of Peter in order to link him with “the most blessed prince of the apostles” (“beatissimi apostolorum principis”). Wheelock begins his second note to the chapter by saying that if Peter were alive today and were to see the church being torn apart over the issue of whether or not he had been appointed its sole leader, he would surely cry out with Paul’s words (1 Corinthians 1: 13), substituting his own name for Paul’s: “Was Peter then crucified for you, or were you baptized in the name of Peter?”15 Then, after 13 Wheelock, HE, 236. Here and throughout his edition, Wheelock uses the term catholicus in its literal meaning of “universal.”

14 Wheelock, HE, 236–39. The passages quoted correspond to Ælfric, In festivitate s. Petri apostoli III Kal. Iul., in Second Series, ed. Godden, no. XXIV, lines 154–75; and Ælfric, III Kal. Iul. passio apostolorum Petri et Pauli, in First Series, ed. Clemoes, no. XXVI, lines 60–78 and 78–96. 15 Wheelock, HE, 395: “Sed ipse S. Petrus si hic in terris hodie versatus Ecclesiam Christi propter principatum solius Petri tam misere laceratam…videret, annon S. Pauli verbis usus, at nomine Petri, in Pauli mutato, exclamaret, Μὴ� Πέ� τρος ἐ� σταυρώ�θη ὑ� πὲ� ρ ὑ� μώ�ν ἤ� ἐ� ις τὸ� ὄ� νομα Πέ� τρου ἐ� βαπτί�σθητε.”



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noting that Peter in his own epistle describes himself as nothing more than a “fellow elder” (1 Peter 5: 1), Wheelock strings together a sequence of five passages from three different homilies of the First and Second Series that explore Peter’s position among his fellow apostles.16 He offsets one passage in which Ælfric calls Peter the teacher and shepherd of all the faithful with another asserting that Christ wished all the apostles to be teachers to the nations. After quoting a decretal attributed to Pope Anacletus, Peter’s first-century successor, that observes that the other apostles had equal power with Peter but wished him to be their leader,17 Wheelock concludes by asking how this could be so when Scripture attests that all the apostles, including Peter, placed James in Christ’s seat in Jerusalem. He supports his observation by quoting Ælfric’s reference to the same episode in his First Series homily for Pentecost: Ða Apostoli syþþan ærþan ðe hi toferdon gesetton Iacobum þe wæs gehaten rihtwis on Cristes setle. ⁊ eall seo geleaffulle gelaþung him gehyrsumode æfter Godes tæcunge; He ða gesætt þæt setl þrittig geara.18

(Afterwards the apostles, before they separated, established James, who was called righteous, in Christ’s seat. And the whole congregation of the faithful obeyed him in accordance with God’s teaching. He then occupied that seat for thirty years.)

The implication was clear: Peter held no supremacy among the apostles, which in turn established that the pope had no special jurisdiction beyond his own see.

Sabbath and Sabbatarianism

When and how Christians should honour the Fourth Commandment to “keep holy the sabbath day” (Exodus 20: 8) was a live issue in the English church of the later sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. Protestant theology placed the Ten Commandments into the category of “moral” law that was binding upon all Christians; they were thus distinct from those precepts of the Mosaic law that were categorized as “ceremonial” or “judicial” and held not to be applicable to Christians of the new covenant.19 Early Christian doctrine and practice had articulated the principle that Christ’s resurrection had hallowed Sunday, the first day of the week, which should therefore be observed as the Christian sabbath, in preference to the Jewish sabbath, which fell on the sev-

16 Wheelock, HE, 395–97. The passages quoted correspond to Ælfric, Dominica palmarum de passione domini, in Second Series, ed. Godden, no. XIV, lines 139–42 and 99–103; Ælfric, Alius sermo de die Paschae, in Second Series, ed. Godden, no. XVI, lines 173–76 and 179–84; Ælfric, Dominica palmarum de passione domini, in Second Series, ed. Godden, no. XIV, lines 107–13; and Ælfric, In die sancto Pentecosten, in First Series, ed. Clemoes, no XXII, lines 98–105. 17 The text that Wheelock quotes actually comes from Gratian’s Decretum, D. 21 c. 2.

18 Wheelock, HE, 396–97. The text quoted corresponds to Ælfric, In die sancto Pentecosten, First Series, ed. Clemoes, no. XXII, lines 102–5.

19 Calvin’s discussion of the distinction between moral, ceremonial, and judicial law in Institutes, Book IV, chapter 20, sections 14–15, was foundational for Protestant theologians. See John Calvin, Institutio Christianæ religionis, in libros quatuor nunc primum digesta (Geneva: Robert Estienne, 1559), 555.

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enth day. During the reign of Elizabeth I (1558–1603), however, some English Puritan thinkers proposed strict sabbatarianism, that is, observance of the sabbath on Saturday (although, by contrast, no such sabbatarian movement developed on the European continent). Under her Stuart successors, these voices grew louder and more aggressive, constituting a definite movement within the contemporary English religious spectrum. The leading advocate for the Saturday sabbath, Theophilus Brabourne (1590–1662), after issuing pamphlets on the subject in 1628 and 1631, was examined before High Commission, the Anglican church’s supreme court, and condemned to London’s Newgate prison in 1634.20 Also at issue in Reformation England was exactly how Christians should observe the day of rest, and on this subject the monarch himself weighed in. After travelling through Lancashire on his return from Scotland in 1617 and observing how some Puritan ministers were forbidding their congregations “their lawfull Recreations, and honest exercises vpon Sundayes,” James I issued a Declaration on Sports that—while proscribing bowling, bear- and bull-baiting, and attendance at “interludes”—explicitly permitted and promoted such Sunday afternoon activities as dancing, jumping, and vaulting.21 Charles I reissued the Declaration in 1633, noting that its purpose was to allow “the meaner sort who labour hard all the week” forms of recreation that would “refresh their spirit”; he ordered his bishops to ensure that the Declaration was published in every parish church of their dioceses.22 But the Book of Sports, as it became known, produced a strong Puritan reaction and in 1643 (the very year in which Wheelock published his edition of Bede), as relations with Charles were deteriorating, a Puritan-leaning Parliament ordered it to be publicly burned.23 Observance of a weekly day of rest was not a topic covered in the Thirty-Nine Articles. The Anglican position on the issue was, however, outlined in the Second Book of Homilies, which was initially approved in 1563 and went through several editions before being reissued by Charles I in 1623 in a one-volume edition that combined it with the First Book, originally issued in 1547.24 Both Books of Homilies embodied sound Anglican teaching and enjoyed a status comparable to that of the Thirty-Nine Articles 20 See David S. Katz, Sabbath and Sectarianism in Seventeenth-Century England (Leiden: Brill, 1988), 11–16.

21 The Kings Maiesties Declaration to His Subiects, Concerning Lawfull Sports to be Vsed (London: Bonham Norton and John Bill, 1618). For the passages quoted, see pp. 2, 4. On the circumstances leading to the composition of James’s Declaration and its subsequent fate, see Alistair Dougall, The Devil’s Book: Charles I, the Book of Sports, and Puritanism in Tudor and Early Stuart England (Exeter: University of Exeter Press, 2011). 22 The Kings Maiesties Declaration to His Subiects, Concerning Lawfull Sports to be Used (London: Robert Barker, 1633), 2, 17. 23 Dougall, The Devil’s Book, 150.

24 Certaine Sermons or Homilies Appointed to be Read in Churches, in the Time of the Late Queene Elizabeth of Famous Memory. And Now Thought Fit to bee Reprinted by Authority from the Kings Most Excellent Maiestie (London: John Bill, 1623). On the status of the two books and their various editions, see The Books of Homilies: A Critical Edition, ed. Gerald Bray (Cambridge: James Clarke, 2015), ix–xxi.



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and the Book of Common Prayer; bishops expected their clergy to preach the homilies regularly to their congregations. The Second Book receives explicit mention in no. 35 of the Thirty-Nine Articles (“Of Homilies”), where its contents are listed and it is said to contain “godly and wholesome Doctrine…necessary for these times” that should be “read in Churches by the Ministers diligently and distinctly.”25 The eighth homily, written (like most of those of the Second Book) by John Jewel, bishop of Salisbury (1559– 1571), is titled “Of the Place and Time of Prayer.” It establishes that, whereas the Jewish people observe the seventh-day sabbath, from apostolic times onward Christians have adopted Sunday as their sabbath day: For wee keepe now the first day, which is our Sunday, and make that our Sabbath, that is our day of rest, in the honour of our Sauiour Christ, who…vpon that day rose from death, conquering the same most triumphantly…This example and commandement of God the godly Christian people beganne to follow immediatly after the assension of our Lord Christ, and began to chuse them a standing day of the weeke to come together in: Yet not the seuenth day, which the Iewes kept: but the Lords day, the day of the Lords resurrection, the day after the seuenth day, which is the first day of the weeke.26

As for how Christians should observe the sabbath, the homily rails against those who abuse it either by continuing their regular weekday work or, worse, who (while appropriately abstaining from work or travel) spend the day “in vngodlinesse and filthinesse, prancing in their pride, pranking and pricking, pointing and painting themselues to bee gorgious and gay.”27 Christians should “vse the Sunday holily, and rest from their common and dayly businesse, and also giue themselues wholly to heauenly exercises of Gods true religion and seruice”; they are “carefully to keepe that day in holy rest and quietnesse, both man, woman, childe, seruant, and stranger.”28 Wheelock used the notes of his edition to provide historical support for the Anglican position on both issues: that Sunday was the Christian sabbath, and that it should be observed with cessation from weekday work and appropriate forms of activity. Bede’s text provided him with three opportunities to explore these issues. Book III, chapter 23 of the Ecclesiastical History includes an account of how St. Cedd (d. 664) hallowed the Northumbrian site on which he planned to found the monastery of Lastingham by remaining there during Lent and fasting until evening “diebus cunctis excepta dominica” (on every day except Sunday).29 Wheelock begins his note on this phrase with the comment “Nam lætitia diei Domin. resurrectioni sacra, jejunare non patitur” (“For the joy of the Lord’s day, sanctified by the resurrection, does not suffer fasting”).30 To support his observation, he then quotes from Ælfric’s homily In caput ieiunii—one of the texts included in Ælfric’s Lives of Saints—where Ælfric states that anyone who fasts on Sun25 Articles (1628), no. 35.

26 Certaine Sermons (1623), Book II, 124–25. 27 Certaine Sermons (1623), Book II, 126. 28 Certaine Sermons (1623), Book II, 125. 29 Wheelock, HE, 226.

30 Wheelock, HE, 228.

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day should be excommunicated, that no one should kneel on Sunday, and that drunkenness and gluttony should be avoided on that day as on all others: We etaþ on ðam sunnan dagum on undern ⁊ on æfen. forþam þe se sunnan dæg is swa halig þæt se man bið wyrþe þe on ðam dæge fæstan wyle þæt he beo amansumod. gif he hit for his anwilnysse deð; Ne eac man ne mot cneowian on sunnan dagum. we sceolan swa ðeah ægþer ge on sunnan dagum ge on oþrum dagum druncennysse ⁊ oferfylle forbugan. be ðam ðe us bec tæcaþ.31 (On Sundays we eat at the third hour [of daylight] and in the evening, because Sunday is so holy that anyone who fasts on Sundays through his own wilfulness is worthy to be excommunicated. Nor should anyone kneel on Sundays. We should shun gluttony and drunkenness on Sundays and on all other days, accordingly as books teach us.)

Wheelock’s notes to Book III, chapter 26 allow him to demonstrate how zealously the ancient English church upheld Sunday as the Christian sabbath and marked the day with appropriate forms of activity. The chapter records the departure of Colman, bishop of Lindisfarne, from Northumbria following the defeat of the Celtic party at the Synod of Whitby, and then goes on to discuss the holy way of life of the Celtic monks and priests who served Northumbria during Colman’s time and that of his predecessors, Finan and Aidan. Such was the people’s respect for them, Bede notes, that on Sundays congregations would flock to the churches, not to receive food but to hear the word of God. Wheelock comments that the early English church’s observance of Sunday followed both the Mosaic law (in singling out one day of the week as the sabbath) and the law of the gospel (by selecting Sunday, which is sanctified by Christ’s resurrection). He supports these assertions with three passages from Old English texts. First, he cites a section of the Second Series homily In media Quadragesime in which Ælfric explains that while Saturday was the day of rest up until Christ’s passion, Sunday has been made holy for Christians by the resurrection: Se sæternes dæg wæs þa gehaten resten dæg oþ Cristes ðrowunge; On þam dæge læg Cristes lic on byrigenne ⁊ he aras of deaþe on þam sunnan dæge. ⁊ se dæg is Cristenra manna resten dæg. ⁊ halig ðurh Cristes ærist; Đone dæg we sceolon symle freolsian mid gastlicre arwurþnysse; Se sæternes dæg wæs gehalgod mid micelre gehealdsumnysse on ðære ealdan æ. for ðære getacnunge Cristes ðrowunge ⁊ his reste on ðære byrgene. ac se sunnan dæg is nu gehalgod þurh soþfæstnysse his æristes of deaþe;32

(Saturday was called the day of rest until Christ’s passion. Christ’s body lay in the tomb on that day, and on Sunday he rose from death; and that day is the day of rest for Christians, holy because of Christ’s resurrection. We should always celebrate that day with spiritual dignity. Saturday was sanctified with great observance under the old law in signification of Christ’s passion and his rest in the tomb. But Sunday is now sanctified by the truth of his resurrection from death.)

31 Wheelock, HE, 228. The text quoted corresponds to Ælfric, In caput ieiunii, in Ælfric’s Lives of Saints, ed. Walter W. Skeat, 4 vols., Early English Text Society, Original Series 76, 82, 94, 114 (1881– 1900; repr. in 2 vols., London: Oxford University Press, 1966), vol. 1, no. XII, lines 3–10. 32 Wheelock, HE, 243–44. The text quoted corresponds to Ælfric, Dominica in media Quadragesime, in Second Series, ed. Godden, no. XII, lines 273–74 and 300–8.



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Wheelock then backs this up with a quotation from an anonymous homily for Holy Saturday that he encountered in Cambridge, Corpus Christi College, MS 198, a major homiletic collection that combines earlier with Ælfrician texts. The homilist here observes that Sunday was the first day of the new law, established as the day of rest for humankind in honour of Christ’s resurrection (“se wæs ærest daga on ðisse niwan æ. mancynne to reste dæge geboden. for arwurþnysse ðære drihtenlican æristes”).33 Wheelock ends his note with a passage excerpted from the Old English translation of the Capitula of Theodulf of Orléans that spells out the kinds of activities that are appropriate following divine service on Sundays; these include taking spiritual refreshment at home among friends, neighbours, and strangers, and guarding against over-eating and drunkenness.34 Book V, chapter 22 (21) of Bede’s text presents Wheelock with a final opportunity to lay out evidence about the early English church’s sabbath observance.35 The chapter provides the text of the letter explaining the calculation of the date of Easter that was sent to King Nechtan of the Picts by Ceolfrith, abbot of Wearmouth and Jarrow (d. 716). In the course of the letter, Ceolfrith, explaining how Easter must be celebrated on Sunday, comments that Christ made Sunday solemn for us by the joy of his resurrection. This prompts Wheelock to state, in his notes, that our ancestors called Sunday the sabbath of the Christians (“Diem hinc Dominicum…Christianorum Sabbatum majores nostri rectissime nuncuparunt”).36 After discussing the terminology used in the Old English gospels to designate the day on which the holy women and disciples found Christ’s tomb empty, he then describes how, to counteract any failure to observe Sunday appropriately, the ancient English church deployed various stories of visions; while these reflect the relatively low level of intellectual sophistication among Christians of the time, they nevertheless underline the extreme importance attached to honouring Sunday appropriately. He then quotes nine brief passages from the two versions of the Sunday Letter that he found in Cambridge, Corpus Christi College, MS 419.37 Purporting to have descended from heaven after being written by Jesus himself, the letter describes how fire has consumed Christians who failed to observe Sunday properly, commands 33 Wheelock, HE, 244 (Wheelock misprints ærest as æfest, though he translates the word correctly in his Latin rendering of the passage; the reading is clear in Cambridge, Corpus Christi College, MS 198, fol. 190v, line 6). The full passage quoted corresponds to Ruth Evans, “An Anonymous Homily for Holy Saturday,” Leeds Studies in English, new ser., 12 (1981): 129–53, lines 134–38 and 142– 44. I am most grateful to Dr. Winfried Rudolf for alerting me to Evans’s edition of this anonymous homily and providing me with a copy.

34 Wheelock, HE, 244. The passage quoted corresponds to Theodulfi Capitula in England: Die altenglischen Übersetzungen, zusammen mit dem lateinischen Text, ed. Hans Sauer, Texte und Untersuchungen zur Englischen Philologie 8 (Munich: Fink, 1978), 337, lines 23–27. 35 The chapter is numbered 22 in Wheelock’s edition but 21 in modern editions and translations of the Ecclesiastical History. See further note 45 below. 36 Wheelock, HE, 460.

37 Wheelock, HE, 460–61. The nine passages quoted correspond to Sunday Observance and the Sunday Letter in Anglo-Saxon England, ed. Dorothy Haines, Anglo-Saxon Texts 8 (Cambridge: Brewer, 2010), Letter E, p. 146, lines 1–8, p. 150, lines 39–41, p. 152, lines 64–65; Letter B, p. 118, lines 17–18, 18–21, 27–29, p. 122, lines 91–93, 81–83; and Letter E, p. 166, lines 164–69.

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an observance extending from mid-afternoon on Saturday until first light on Monday, and strictly proscribes, on pain of being expunged from the book of life, a broad range of activities including sitting in judgement, swearing an oath, rekindling a fire that has gone out, milking cattle, baking bread, cleaning house, and washing and shaving the head. While acknowledging the unorthodox nature of this text, Wheelock underlines the key point that it attests to the early English church’s insistence that Sunday is the Christian sabbath and that the day should be solemnly honoured: Sed agnoscet prudens Lector mihi sufficere, ut ostendam cultum Dominicæ diei religiosum, non novitium fuisse; non hesternum; atque majoribus nostris, in tanta rerum caligine, ipsum hunc diem Dominicum, Sabbati & nomine & re innotuisse: verum dies ille, memoriæ Dominicæ resurrectionis dicatus, ficta hujusmodi, & larvata monachorum veterum, ad superstitionem usque, defensione non indiget. Retinemus vocem Sabbati in publica ecclesiæ doctrina; (licet non in vulgari sermone, cum appellatio [Dies Dominicus] Dominicæ resurrectionis quovis momento renovet memoriam,) ne dempta voce Sabbati, præcepti demum quarti, de Sabbato celebrando, huic aut adimatur aut obscuretur autoritas: atque Deo digna Triuno, & Christo imprimis, a quo Christiani dicimur resurgentes a peccatis; hujus diei resurrectionis languescat observatio.38 (But the prudent reader will acknowledge that it is sufficient for me to show that the religious observance of Sunday was not a new-fangled thing, or a matter of yesterday; and that, amid such great gloom, this same Sunday was known as the sabbath among our ancestors both by name and in substance. In truth, that day, dedicated to the memory of the Lord’s resurrection, does not lack this kind of fabricated and phantasmagorical defense from the old monks, even to the point of superstition. We retain the term “sabbath” in the public teaching of the church—though not in popular parlance, since the expression “the Lord’s day” renews the memory of the Lord’s resurrection at whatever moment—lest, if the term “sabbath” were suppressed, the authority of the Fourth Commandment regarding sabbath celebration might then be withdrawn from this day, or dimmed; and so that there may not fade away an observance of this day of the resurrection worthy of the Triune God, and especially of Christ, from whom, upon rising anew from our sins, we take the name of Christians.)

With this forthright statement, based upon ancient evidence, Wheelock confronts his contemporaries who sought to undermine the Sunday sabbath as well as those who marked the sabbath with inappropriate behaviour.

Wheelock’s Manuscript Research

Wheelock uses the notes within his Bede edition to turn the publication into what is, in effect, an Anglican manifesto that seeks to provide historical evidence that might serve to heal divisions within the universal church—a goal that he underlines in the book’s prefatory materials.39 The notes are the fruit of some six years of study of manuscripts of the Anglo-Saxon period that began in 1637, when Sir Henry Spelman first recruited Wheelock to provide him with transcripts of Old English texts in Cambridge libraries, 38 Wheelock, HE, 461–62.

39 See Graham, “Abraham Wheelock, Agent of Anglicanism,” 178–83.



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and that intensified following the establishment of the lectureship in British and Saxon antiquities that Wheelock assumed under Spelman’s patronage. Wheelock’s correspondence with Spelman reveals how, as he became better acquainted with the manuscripts, he realized that they provided cogent historical justification for the principles and teachings on which the reformed Church of England was founded; he believed, perhaps naively, that the evidence was sufficiently powerful to win over to the Anglican standpoint those of the Roman Catholic persuasion.40 The 129 Old English and two Middle English passages that Wheelock deployed in the notes to his edition derive from a total of eleven manuscripts.41 When he quotes a passage within the notes, he provides an indication of the specific manuscript from which he has taken the text, with the result that all his sources can be identified. His most fruitful sources, as he observes in his preface to the reader,42 were three homiliaries in the Cambridge University Library: MS Gg. 3. 28 (which he designated “Sermones Catholici” and from which he draws on sixty-five occasions), the only manuscript to contain a full set of both series of Ælfric’s Catholic Homilies; MS Ii. 4. 6 (designated “Hom. 34” and providing twenty-four passages), of which the contents combine items from the First and Second Series with some of Ælfric’s Lives of Saints and other Ælfrician and non-Ælfrician texts; and MS Ii. 1. 33 (designated “Hom. 51” and the source of seven passages), which includes Ælfric’s translation of the first twenty-four chapters of Genesis along with homilies drawn primarily from the First and Second Series and an Old English version of the opening chapters of Alcuin’s De virtutibus et vitiis.43 He also drew upon MS Ii. 2. 11, a copy of the West Saxon translation of the four gospels along with the Old English version of the apocryphal Gospel of Nicodemus. Four manuscripts in the library of Corpus Christi College provided him with material: two homiliaries, MSS 198 and 419, of which the first combines Ælfrician with pre-Ælfrician texts while the second includes items by Wulfstan and others; MS 191, which contains the Latin and Old English versions of the enlarged Rule of Chrodegang of Metz (a text that Wheelock did not realize had a continental origin); and MS 201, Part II, the Latin and Old English versions of the Capitula of Theodulf of Orléans (which Wheelock also believed to have been written in England).44 40 Graham, “Abraham Wheelock, Agent of Anglicanism,” 173–78.

41 A twelfth manuscript, Cambridge, Corpus Christi College, MS 318, provided the text of the Latin vita of Bede that Wheelock quotes in full on sigs. B3r–B4v of his edition. 42 Wheelock, HE, sig. B2v.

43 Wheelock’s designations “Hom. 34” and “Hom. 51” are based on his count of the number of items in each of these manuscripts.

44 The manner in which Wheelock quotes from the Capitula suggests that his immediate source was the portions of the Capitula printed in his patron Sir Henry Spelman’s Concilia, decreta, leges, constitutiones, in re ecclesiarum orbis Britannici (1639). However, as he notes on p. 71 of the Bede edition, he had himself provided Spelman with a transcript of the Capitula that he made from Cambridge, Corpus Christi College, MS 201; this transcript survives as London, British Library, MS Additional 35333. Printed editions served as the immediate source for a few of the passages that Wheelock quotes: he derived his excerpts of Old English laws from William Lambarde’s Archaionomia, sive de priscis legibus Anglorum (1568); he quoted Ælfric’s treatise De veteri testamento et novo from William L’Isle’s A Saxon Treatise Concerning the Old and New

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The library of Trinity College, Cambridge, provided one source of additional homiletic material (MS B. 15. 34) as well as the Middle English Chronicle of Robert of Gloucester (MS R. 4. 26). From Sir Thomas Cotton, son of Sir Robert, he was able to borrow the manuscript that is now London, British Library, MS Cotton Otho B. xi; one of the three manuscripts on which he based his edition of the Old English version of Bede’s text, it also provided him with the Old English poetic Seasons of Fasting, which he quotes once in his notes. Table 8.1 below provides a complete conspectus of the vernacular material that Wheelock quotes in the notes to his Bede edition. The table has four columns, of which the first records the page(s) of Wheelock’s edition on which each quoted passage occurs and identifies the chapter of Bede’s work to which the note that includes the passage relates;45 the second identifies the author (where known) and provides the accepted modern title of the work from which the passage derives; the third identifies the manuscript from which Wheelock took the passage (supplemented by an indication of where the quoted text may be found in a modern printed edition);46 and the fourth briefly summarizes the content of the passage. The eleven manuscripts on which Wheelock drew for his notes were, however, not the only ones that he consulted as he conducted his research and patiently accumulated material that aligned with his goals. He has, moreover, left an ample record of his studies on the pages of the manuscripts themselves. That record takes multiple forms: indexes to the contents that he compiled on leaves at the front and/or back of the codices; marginal annotations; glosses and underlinings entered within the columns of text; and the occasional provision of transcripts to make up for lacunae in the manuscripts. This extensive, highly informative body of evidence has not hitherto been subjected to a detailed analysis.47 The remainder of this article seeks to offer an overview of the evidence and a discussion of its most salient aspects, with the goal of drawing attention to the extraordinarily detailed research that underlies Wheelock’s provision of his Bede edition with its supplementary materials. Most informative of the intensity with which he conducted his research are the subject indexes that he frequently compiled at the front and/or back of manuscripts, either Testament (1623); he took excerpts from two of Ælfric’s pastoral letters from L’Isle’s Divers Ancient Monuments in the Saxon Tongue (1638); and he drew upon Spelman’s Concilia for excerpts from the Peterborough copy of the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle and Ælfric’s pastoral letter for Wulfsige, bishop of Sherborne. These printed sources are identified at the appropriate points in Table 8.1. 45 For references to Book V after chapter 8, the first chapter number provided is that of Wheelock’s edition, while the second, lower number (within parentheses) is that used in modern editions and translations, which combine into a single chapter Wheelock’s chapters 8 and 9.

46 In this column, the item numbers are those of N. R. Ker’s Catalogue of Manuscripts Containing Anglo-Saxon (1957; repr. Oxford: Clarendon, 1990).

47 There is at least a brief mention of Wheelock’s extensive annotation and indexing of manuscripts studied for the Bede edition in Oates, Cambridge University Library, 145; figs. 16 and 17, on pp. 144 and 146, respectively reproduce a page of Wheelock’s index for Cambridge University Library, MS Ff. 1. 27, and a page of the transcript of the opening of Ælfric’s First Series homily on the Assumption of the Virgin (discussed below) with which he supplied a lacuna in Cambridge University Library, MS Gg. 3. 28.



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on existing blank endleaves or on leaves that he himself added. Such subject indexes are to be found in six of the eleven manuscripts that provided the passages included in the notes to his edition: CUL Gg. 3. 28 and Ii. 4. 6; CCCC 201 and 419; and TCC B. 15. 34 and R. 4. 26.48 They also occur in five manuscripts that he did not quote within the edition. Two of these are collections of largely Ælfrician homilies (Cambridge, Corpus Christi College, MSS 162 and 188); one is a miscellaneous collection of religious and secular texts compiled by and for Wulfstan (London, British Library, MS Cotton Nero A. i); one is a copy of Ælfric’s Grammar and Glossary (Cambridge University Library, MS Hh. 1. 10); and one is a massive twelfth-century compilation of historical and religious texts, including materials relating to the history of the Britons and to the origins and development of the church in Anglo-Saxon Northumbria (Cambridge University Library, MS Ff. 1. 27). The total number of entries in Wheelock’s indexes in these eleven manuscripts is close to 2,000.49 The size of the index varies widely between manuscripts. Not surprisingly, given that the manuscript was the source of the largest number of passages quoted in the Bede edition, the index in CUL Gg. 3. 28 has the highest number of entries: more than 850. CUL Ii. 4. 6—which provided the second highest number of passages for the edition—is also indexed extensively, with more than 590 entries; in this case, Wheelock drew up both a subject index of around 575 entries (fols. 313r–323r) and a separate, much shorter index restricted to points about Old English grammar and usage (fols. 323v–327v)—a reminder that he was developing his knowledge of Old English as he proceeded. The fewest numbers of entries are in the indexes to CCCC 162 and 188 (fourteen and two entries, respectively), two homiletic manuscripts that provided no passages for the Bede edition, and the index to TCC R. 4. 26 (seventeen entries), which was the source of the two Middle English passages he quotes within the edition. When compiling his indexes, Wheelock would typically begin by writing alphabetical letter headings (A, B, C, etc.) on the pages that he used, leaving space for entries beneath each heading. In one manuscript, CUL Ii. 4. 6, he left a full page for each letter of the alphabet; more typically, he would enter two or more headings per page. Sometimes—as in CUL Gg. 3. 28 and Ii. 4. 6—having filled all the available space under the headings, he would write a second set of headings on later pages. Each of his individual entries within an index provides one or more page references, often followed by a specific line reference; there can be as many as twelve page references for a single entry, and when there are multiple references, there may be variations in their script that demonstrate that they were written at different times, as Wheelock returned to study a particular manuscript on several occasions. A number of the entries end with a symbol—such as three dots in triangular formation, or a sketch of 48 It is somewhat surprising that there is no index by Wheelock in Cambridge University Library, MS Ii. 1. 33, one of the three manuscripts that he specifically mentions in the preface to his Bede edition. The manuscript has a seventeenth-century binding; if that binding post-dates Wheelock, it is possible that leaves containing an index were discarded at the time of binding. There are notes and marks by Wheelock at several points within the body of the manuscript. 49 My informal count produced a total of 1,947 entries across the eleven manuscripts.

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the stem and petals of a flower—designed to function as a signe-de-renvoi: in many cases, Wheelock entered a matching symbol in the margin of the page to which the entry relates, to indicate the specific point on the page where the relevant passage may be found. The topics covered by Wheelock’s indexes are mostly religious in nature and generally correspond quite closely with the topics discussed in the notes to his edition. Many of his index entries consist of a single word—for example, “absolutio” (“absolution”), “decimæ” (“tithes”), and “ieiunia” (“fasts”)—but frequently the entries are more extended and demonstrate his interest in the detailed content of the text to which the entry relates: for example, “baptismus nos dei filios constituit, si eum (sc. baptismum) teneamus” (CUL Ii. 4. 6, fol. 313v: “baptism makes us the sons of God, if we hold to it (that is, baptism)”), and “Asinus ligatus cum pullo signific. Iudæos, et Gentiles” (CUL Ii. 4. 6, fol. 313r: “The tethered donkey with its colt signifies the Jews and the Gentiles”). Baptism and the symbolism of the tethered donkey and colt are both discussed within the notes to the Bede edition.50 The index of more than 180 entries in CUL Ff. 1. 27 is exceptional in that these entries mostly relate to historical rather than religious issues, and more specifically to the history of the Britons and the manuscript’s copies of Gildas’s De excidio et conquestu Britanniæ, the De gestis Brittonum of pseudo-Gildas, and the Historia Brittonum attributed to Nennius. This index serves as a reminder that not all Wheelock’s researches related to and were incorporated into his Bede edition; in studying CUL Ff. 1. 27, he was attending to the requirement of his lectureship that he study “British” as well as “Saxon” antiquities. Figure 8.1, showing the opening segment of Wheelock’s entries for the letter G on fol. 316r of CUL Ii. 4. 6, demonstrates many of the typical features of his indexes. Variations in the colour of the ink, the ductus of the script, and the thickness of the nib of the pen he used, show that Wheelock wrote these entries at different times, most likely over an extended period. Most of the entries are in Latin, though four are in English; one entry (“geearnungum. merita”) is for an Old English term with its Latin definition. All the entries are followed by one or more page references; some also include line references. The page references for the entries “grace. the life of the soule is god” and “Gregory our Apostle, & Pope holie” include symbols—respectively four dots in diamond formation and three dots in triangular formation—of the kind that Wheelock used as signes-derenvoi to link an index entry with the specific part of the page to which the entry refers; matching marks occur at the appropriate points of the pages to which these two entries lead.51 Alphabetization of the entries beyond the first letter is haphazard, except that Wheelock does manage largely to keep together a set of entries on a single topic, Gratia (“divine grace”). The total of nine entries on grace reflects his particular interest in that topic, which features strongly in the notes to his edition.52 These entries are specific and 50 Wheelock, HE, 63–64, 125, 167–69, 179–81, 404, and 462; and see the entries relating to these pages in Table 8.1. 51 Fols. 44r (Wheelock’s p. 71) and 172v (Wheelock’s p. 328).

52 As described in Graham, “Abraham Wheelock, Agent of Anglicanism,” 188–91.



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Figure 8.1: Opening entries of the G section of Wheelock’s subject index for the manuscript. Cambridge, Cambridge University Library, MS Ii. 4. 6, fol. 316r (detail). Used with permission of the Syndics of Cambridge University Library.

precise: for example, “gratia dei in convertendo peccatore multum prædicatur” (“God’s grace in converting a sinner is much preached”) and “Gratia infantes abluit a peccato originali” (“Grace cleanses infants from original sin”). This characteristic demonstrates Wheelock’s attention to the detailed argumentation of the texts that he studied. Marks that precede entries seem to signal topics of special importance for him: the asterisk before “gratia, et agenum dihte, providentia, pro salute” and the manicula (hand with pointing index finger) before the entry on prevenient and consequent grace, “gratia præveniens, conseq: consummans.” Exceptionally among Wheelock’s indexes, this entry ends with a reference to a Reformation-era theological work, Calvin’s Institutes of the Christian Religion—thereby confirming evidence within some of the notes to his edition that Wheelock had special respect for Calvin’s theology.53 The manuscript that shows by far the greatest array of evidence of Wheelock’s use is the one that provided the largest number of passages quoted in his edition: CUL Gg. 3. 28. The only codex to contain the full set of both series of Ælfric’s Catholic Homilies, Wheelock accorded it special importance because he interpreted its opening title, “Incipit liber catholicorum sermonum anglicæ [sic, for “anglice”] in æcclesia per annum recitandi” (fol. 3r; “Here begins the book of catholic homilies in English, to be recited in the church throughout the year”), as indicating that it represented the official teaching of the Anglo-Saxon church, the equivalent of his own Anglican church’s two Books 53 See Graham, “Abraham Wheelock, Agent of Anglicanism,” 191 n. 64.

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of Homilies.54 The number and range of his interventions in the manuscript establish that he studied it intensely over a long period, returning to it over and over again. The manuscript therefore offers an object lesson in the nature, scope, and thoroughness of Wheelock’s study of the sources. To make the manuscript easier to consult, he added an ink pagination to its leaves (with some errors in the sequence of his numbers). For the opening homilies of the First Series, he also entered item numbers, in pencil, next to the beginning of each homily, though he discontinued this practice after reaching the homily for Palm Sunday (CH I.14) on fol. 44v. He provided information about who Ælfric was, and where further details about him and his homilies could be found, in notes on fol. 1r and on a former pastedown now located at the back of the manuscript (fol. xiiir). On a few pages, he entered a scattering of marginal or interlinear glosses, variously in Latin and English, to Old English words and phrases;55 the glosses attest to his efforts to understand the detail of what he was reading. He sometimes provided marginal identifications of scriptural passages quoted by Ælfric.56 He also utilized the margins to enter cross-references of various kinds. A few of these link the First and Second Series homilies for the same occasions: the homilies for the Nativity (CH I.2 and II.1; fols. 7r and 134v) and for the Feast of St. Stephen (CH I.3 and II.2; fols 10r and 138r). Others link passages of similar content that occur in different homilies, and in these cases, the marked passages include content of the kind that he deployed in the Bede edition. For example, he cross-referred between two passages, respectively on fol. 223r and fol. 250v (within CH II.29 and 39), in which Ælfric made similar statements about his unwillingness to fall into heresy by crediting questionable sources that are not divinely inspired.57 Again, on fols. 80v and 212r (within CH I.26 and II.24), he drew attention to two parallel discussions of Christ’s naming of Peter, where Ælfric says that Christ himself is the rock on which the church is founded; and alongside the second passage, he entered a pencil note drawing attention to the Syriac translation of two relevant scriptural passages, 1 Peter 2:5 and Acts 4:11.58 As discussed above, the Anglo-Saxon church’s view of St. Peter receives detailed 54 He draws attention to this title in one of the notes to his edition: see Wheelock, HE, 462.

55 For example, on fol. 36v, where he has underlined “forweorniað” in line 17, entering “languished” in the outer margin, and has entered “impotens” above “mægenleas” in line 18. He has underlined a few other words on the page, but without entering a gloss; these may be words whose meaning he had not succeeded in ascertaining. Further examples of his glossing (which is no more than sporadic) occur on fols. 37r, 77v, and 255v. 56 For example, on fols. 130r and 146v. Note that the marking of biblical quotations with an “x” entered in the margin and with the quoted text bracketed with a sinuous line drawn down the margin is the work of the Cambridge scholar William L’Isle (ca. 1569–1637), who has made numerous marginal marks in the latter part of the manuscript. 57 Like many of Wheelock’s entries in the manuscript, these are difficult to read. On fol. 223r (Wheelock’s “427”), he has written “vide fol. 482. 24” alongside line 16; on fol. 250v (Wheelock’s 482), he has written “vide .427. 16” alongside line 24.

58 Wheelock developed a knowledge of Syriac and Arabic in connection with his tenure of Cambridge’s lectureship in Arabic, which he held from 1632 under the patronage of Sir Thomas Adams, the addressee of one of the epistles dedicatory of his Bede edition.



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attention in the notes to the Bede edition. A further batch of Wheelock’s cross-references record where the same homilies, or alternative homilies on the same topic, may be found in other manuscripts;59 including references to CUL Ii. 1. 33 and Ii. 4. 6, TCC B. 15. 34, and CCCC 188 and 198, these notes attest to the widening range of sources with which he became familiar as his research progressed. A final set of cross-references, placed alongside passages from CUL Gg. 3. 28 that he quoted in his Bede edition, provide the page and line numbers for where these passages occur within the edition.60 Wheelock can have made these entries only after his edition was published, or at least, after page proofs became available. They may therefore be the last notes he made in the manuscript. Some of Wheelock’s interventions seek to remedy damage and loss that Gg. 3. 28 had suffered. On fol. 3r, the opening title of the First Series—which held such importance for him—has darkened, faded, and blurred, rendering it difficult to read; he transcribed it in the outer margin. On several pages he has attempted to rectify damage to words and phrases that is the result of fading or liquid staining: on fol. 264v, for example, he entered his readings of the affected words in the interlines, and on fol. 183r he reinforced faded letters at line endings toward the bottom of the page by tracing over them with his pen.61 Six leaves of Gg. 3. 28 had been cut from the manuscript at some point during the medieval period, producing loss of text: two leaves after fol. 94, and one each after fols. 113, 132, 164, and 202.62 Wheelock sought to make good these losses either by providing a transcription of the missing text, or by giving a precise reference stating where the lost text could be found.63 The excised leaf following fol. 132 was probably blank apart from the last few lines of the final homily of Ælfric’s First Series; citing CCCC MS 162 as his source, Wheelock copied the missing lines in the upper margin of fol. 134r, above the opening title of the Latin preface to the Second Series. In two notes entered at the foot of fol. 113v, he attributed the excision of the following leaf to a library thief (“abscidit plagiarius”) and recorded the page and line numbers on which the missing text could be found in CCCC 162. At the top of fol. 204r, he noted that text lost because of the excision of the leaf that had originally followed fol. 202 could be found in CUL Ii. 1. 33.

59 For such cross-references, see Gg. 3. 28, fols. 51r, 55v, 59v, 157v, 185v, 221v, 262v. 60 See, for example, fols. 45r, 46r, 60r, 65v, and 130r.

61 Not all restorations of faded or obscured words within the manuscript are by Wheelock. I have suggested elsewhere that three such restorations on fol. 194r may be the work of Elizabeth Elstob, who was allowed to borrow Gg. 3. 28 while preparing her transcriptions of Ælfric’s homilies. See Timothy Graham, “Female Agency in Early Anglo-Saxon Studies: The ‘Nuns of Tavistock’ and Elizabeth Elstob,” in New Readings on Women and Early Medieval English Literature and Culture: Cross-Disciplinary Studies in Honour of Helen Damico, ed. Helene Scheck and Christine E. Kozikowski (Leeds: Arc Humanities Press, 2019), 229–60, at 258 n. 84. 62 The modern foliation of Gg. 3. 28 takes account of these lost leaves; that is, the leaf following fol. 94 is numbered 97, the leaf following fol. 113 is numbered 115, and so on.

63 The only exception is for the leaf removed after fol. 164 (within the Second Series homily on St. Benedict, a text Wheelock quotes in his edition); he makes no comment on the loss of this leaf or on where the missing text may be found.

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Especially assiduous was his restoration of the loss of the two leaves after fol. 94— leaves that would have carried the opening of the First Series homily for the Assumption of the Virgin (CH I.30). First, at the foot of fol. 94v, he entered a note stating that nothing has been lost from the end of the preceding homily (CH I.29, Passio sancti Laurentii), as may be ascertained by comparing the copy of the same text in CCCC MS 188. He continues the note by providing a precise reference to where within CCCC 188 the missing portion of the Assumption homily may be found. But he then decided to make good the loss in Gg. 3. 28 by including his own full transcript of the missing text, which he inserted into Gg. 3. 28 following fol. 94 on a set of eight paper leaves.64 This is, in fact, a transcript of a transcript, as CCCC 188 itself had lost leaves here, and the missing text had been supplied on inserted leaves by a member of Matthew Parker’s circle. The first of Wheelock’s supplied leaves in Gg. 3. 28 is blank, as is the recto of the second leaf, apart from Wheelock’s note recording that he has copied the text from CCCC 188. His transcript begins on the verso of this leaf (see fig. 8.2); in making the transcript, he introduces several corrections to his source, at one point attributing the errors to the ignorance of the Parkerian scribe (“imperitia scribæ linguam corrumpit”). Immediately above the beginning of his transcript, Wheelock entered a comment that helps to explain why both manuscripts, CUL Gg. 3. 28 and CCCC 188, have had the opening of the Assumption homily excised, and why the text held particular interest for him: the lost portion of text (which Ælfric says he based on a letter about Mary’s death written by St. Jerome) provided straightforward facts about the end of Mary’s life, confuting the popular narrative about the Assumption.65 The content of the two excised leaves would have been problematic when the legend about Mary’s Assumption was in the ascendant, but for Wheelock, the removed passage had particular interest because of what it said about the Marian beliefs of the Anglo-Saxon church—a topic that he discusses in some detail in the notes to his edition.66 Throughout Gg. 3. 28, Wheelock frequently signaled passages of interest by placing alongside them the kinds of marks that he also used in other manuscripts (dots in triangular formation, a flower-like stem with petals, a manicula, and so on). Some but not all match up with similar marks that he entered after the page references within his index to the manuscript. As noted above, this index is by far the most extensive of all those that 64 These inserted leaves have been numbered 1–8 in modern pencil.

65 Wheelock’s comment reads: “Nota quod confutatio fabulæ de assumptione virginis Mariæ, ex MS. publicæ Bibliothecæ, sc. Serm. Cath., et ex MS. Col. Ben. vol. 3. pag. 318. excisa sit. Verum MS. Col. Ben. aliunde restitutum, sic nobis exhibuit” (“Note that the refutation of the fiction of the Virgin Mary’s Assumption has been cut out of the manuscript of the public library, that is, the Catholic Homilies, and Bennet College, volume 3, p. 318. But the Bennet College manuscript, having been restored from another source, exhibits it to us as follows”). Bennet (or Benet) College was an alternative name for Corpus Christi College used in the early modern period, reflecting the dedication to St. Benedict of the church adjacent to the college. The college library’s third volume of homilies (in Matthew Parker’s numbering system) was CCCC 188. 66 See Wheelock, HE, 448–49, where Wheelock quotes from this homily as well as the First Series homily on the Annunciation and the Second Series homily on the Nativity of the Virgin; see also the discussion in Graham, “Abraham Wheelock, Agent of Anglicanism,” 196–97.



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Figure 8.2: Opening of Wheelock’s transcript of the first section of Ælfric’s First Series homily for the Assumption. Cambridge, Cambridge University Library, MS Gg. 3. 28, verso of the second of eight leaves inserted by Wheelock after fol. 94. Used with permission of the Syndics of Cambridge University Library.

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Wheelock compiled. A small portion of the index—a set of some thirty-six entries for the letter A—occurs on the verso of a discarded leaf from a thirteenth-century liturgical manuscript that formerly served as a pastedown in Gg. 3. 28.67 The remainder is entered on a set of eight paper leaves that Wheelock inserted at the back of the manuscript. Numbered iv–xi in modern pencil, these leaves are now misbound,68 disrupting their original order; but that order can be reconstructed as a quire of six leaves (fols. iv, v, ix, x, vi, and vii) followed by a bifolium (fols. viii and xi). These eight leaves include two alphabetical sequences of index entries; that is, once Wheelock had used the available space under his first set of alphabetical headings, he made a second set. These leaves also include some additional material. On fol. ixr and the upper part of fol. ixv, placed between the entries for the letters H and I in the first sequence, there is a transcript of Ælfric’s Latin preface to the First Series of his Catholic Homilies. Written in neat italic script, the transcript seems not to be Wheelock’s work (it may be that of one of the young men known to have assisted him in the university library),69 though it is he who has made some marginal annotations and interlinear corrections to it. On the last page of the inserted leaves (fol. xiv), following his final index entries, Wheelock wrote a series of three miscellaneous Latin comments. The first of these offers his observation that in his homilies, Ælfric did not always follow the teaching of the Fathers but sometimes added his own conceptions; more specifically, Wheelock refers to Ælfric’s introduction of material on the invocation of the saints and on Purgatory, topics covered in some detail in the notes to the Bede edition.70 The other two comments are both quotations from the preface to Wheelock’s patron Sir Henry Spelman’s glossary of English legal terminology, the Archæologus, published in 1626. The first of these cites the opinion of the Swiss polymath Conrad Gesner (1516–1565) that the Saxon was the oldest of the Germanic dialects, and the closest to Gothic, then adds the observation that the Anglo-Saxons drew their origins from the Goths, from whom they imbibed certain customs and laws.71 The final comment, drawn from the end of Spelman’s preface, describes how the writer has toiled willingly in the hope that his work will stimulate others to 67 Fol. xiii, now the last leaf before the modern paper endleaves.

68 The misordering, which incorrectly groups the leaves into two quires of four, presumably occurred at either the eighteenth- or the twentieth-century rebinding of Gg. 3. 28. The manuscript still had the eighteenth-century binding when it was examined by Neil Ker for his Catalogue of Manuscripts Containing Anglo-Saxon (see p. 21), but Ker says nothing specific about the order of these leaves. 69 On these assistants to Wheelock, see Oates, Cambridge University Library, 191–92; and Peter J. Lucas, “William Retchford, Pupil of Abraham Wheelock: ‘He understands the Saxon as well as myself’,” Transactions of the Cambridge Bibliographical Society 12, no. 4 (2003): 335–61.

70 See Graham, “Abraham Wheelock, Agent of Anglicanism,” 192–97.

71 Henry Spelman, Archæologus. In modum glossarii in rem antiquam posteriorem (London: John Beale, 1626), preface, second (unnumbered) page. Spelman clarifies that it was specifically the Jutes who were linked to the Goths, but Wheelock does not quote this part of his statement. There is a discussion of the Germanic languages on fols. 27r–44r of Gesner’s Mithridates. De differentiis linguarum veterum (Zurich: Christoph Froschauer, 1555).



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study the authors and texts of the Middle Ages.72 Wheelock surely quotes these words because they expressed his own feelings about the effort and aspirations he had poured into his study of Gg. 3. 28, the richest source for the material with which he augmented his edition of Bede. Through its supplementary materials, that edition offers a compendium of Old English texts more extensive than any that had yet appeared in print. Inspired by his belief that he could contribute to the reunification of a divided Christendom by bringing to light a battery of materials that embodied the teachings of the earliest English church, Wheelock dedicated himself for years to the exhaustive study of the manuscripts containing those teachings. As his work progressed, and as his correspondence reveals, he became ever more convinced of the significance of the evidence he was uncovering and of the need to bring it to public attention. He has left an extensive record of his researches on the pages of the manuscripts he studied. His indexes, in particular, reveal how he steadily familiarized himself with an impressively large body of textual material capable of furnishing the historical underpinnings of Anglican doctrine. Directing his attention above all to issues at the very heart of the Anglican creed, he mined a more extensive range of Old English sources than had previously drawn scholarly attention. His edition of Bede’s historical masterpiece provided him with the opportunity to present to the world the evidence that he had accumulated so assiduously, and thereby to promote the cause of the church he served so zealously.

72 “Libentius nauaui operam, vt apparatu hoc nostro, viros aliquot Academicos et eruditos, ad mediorum sæculorum antiquitates, autoresque paululum elucubrandos invitarem; ne in Academiis nostris, vllum vnquam honestioris literaturæ genus, (si fieri potuerit) desideraretur. Spelmannus ad Glossarium” (“I have laboured energetically upon the work the more willingly, that through this instrument of ours, I might invite some number of university men and the learned to the gradual investigation of medieval antiquities and authors, so that in our universities (could it be done) no class of more honourable literature might ever be wanting. Spelman in the Glossarium”). Cf. Spelman, Archæologus, final paragraph of the preface.

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Table 8.1. Old English Texts Quoted by Wheelock in the Notes to His Edition of Bede’s Ecclesiastical History

Location within edition Ad lectorem (sig. B1r)

Text quoted

Source

Ælfric, IIII Id. Mart. s. Gregorii pape (CH II.9) Bede’s preface (p. 4) Ælfric, Dominica in Septuagesima (CH II.5) I.1 (p. 25) Metrical Chronicle of Robert of Gloucester I.7 (pp. 36‒40) I.8 (pp. 41‒50) I.17 (pp. 61‒62) (p. 62)

(p. 62) (pp. 62‒63)

Gg. 3. 28, item 52 (Godden IX, lines 6‒8) Ii. 4. 6, item 4 (Godden V, lines 238‒39) TCC R. 4. 26 (Wright 1:15, lines 211‒15, and 1:37, line 505) Ii. 1. 33, item 27 Ælfric, Passio S. Albani martyris (LS (Skeat XIX, lines 1‒154) 19) Gg. 3. 28, item 22 Ælfric, Feria IIII de (Clemoes XX, lines fide catholica (CH 1‒2, 17‒248) I.20) Gg. 3. 28, item 57 Ælfric, Dominica (Godden XIV, lines palmarum de passione domini (CH 313‒27) II.14) Gg. 3. 28, item 3 Ælfric, De initio (Clemoes I, lines creaturæ (CH I.1) 110‒17) Ælfric, De natale domini (CH II.1)

Ælfric, De initio creaturæ (CH I.1)

Gg. 3. 28, item 44 (Godden I, lines 13‒17) Gg. 3. 28, item 3 (Clemoes I, lines 155‒75)

Content of passage

King Alfred was the translator of Bede

Embryne (in reference to the church’s rites) means “recurring” Brutus was the progenitor of the British; Britain was named for him Martyrdom of St. Alban The fundamental tenets of the faith: Ælfric’s exegesis of the Creed The significance of the blood and water that flowed from Christ’s side God gave man an eternal soul; the body is mortal through Adam’s sin, but God will raise it on the Day of Judgment Adam’s sin delivered him and all humankind to the punishment of hell Adam sinned through free will, delivering humankind to the punishment of hell; God bestowed immortality and felicity on the human soul, but by the devil’s seduction and Adam’s sin we have lost the felicity



Location within edition (pp. 63‒64) (pp. 64‒67)

(pp. 67‒69)

I.20 (p. 71)

(pp. 71‒72)

(p. 72)

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Text quoted

Source

185

Content of passage

Spiritual birth is invisible; Ii. 4. 6, item 35 (Belfour I, p. 6, lines baptism cleanses from the sin that humans inherit 15‒30) from Adam Let none believe in fate; Gg. 3. 28, item 9 Ælfric, VIII Id. Ian. the Creator granted free (Clemoes VII, lines epiphania domini will to angels and humans 127‒200) (CH I.7) alike; God knows who will be saved, but he predestined no one to evil; conversion comes through God’s grace The tamed ass of Palm Ii. 4. 6, item 18 Ælfric, Dominica palmarum (CH I.14) (Clemoes XIV, lines Sunday stands for the 42‒85 and 111‒21) Jews, the untamed colt for the heathens; both are chained by their sins; humans are bound by their own free will, freed by the mercy of God Christians are to purify Gg. 3. 28, item 50, Ælfric, Dominica I themselves during Lent and Ii. 4. 6, item 9 in Quadragesima by fasting, vigils, prayers, (Godden VII, lines (CH II.7) and alms, that they may 1‒9) confidently celebrate Easter and receive the eucharist for the remission of their sins The power of teaching and OE Theodulfi CCCC 201, part 2, capitula, ch. 36 item 3, via Spelman, preaching God’s precepts to effect conversion Concilia, p. 612 (Sauer, p. 383, lines (Wheelock notes that the Old English text omits the 43‒44) Latin text’s reference to performing good works) Christians should Ælfric, Dominica I in Ii. 4. 6, item 8 avoid idle speech and Quadragessima (CH (Clemoes XI, lines amusements during Lent 214‒17) I.11)

Anonymous, Dominica I post Pentecosten

186

Timothy Graham

Location within edition I.25 (p. 77)

Text quoted

Source

Content of passage

OE Gospel of Nicodemus

Gg. 3. 28, item 52, and Ii. 1. 33, item 25 (Godden IX, lines 195‒99) Ii. 2. 11, item 8 (Cross, p. 229, lines 7‒8, and p. 233, lines 1‒4) Otho B. xi, item 10 (ASPR 6, p. 100, lines 87‒94)

St. Augustine’s preaching to King Æthelberht

(p. 78)

Ælfric, IIII Id. Mart. s. Gregorii pape (CH II.9)

I.27 (p. 96) (p. 97)

II.2 (p. 114) II.5 (p. 125) II.7 (p. 127)

II.8 (p. 128)

(p. 128)

Christ releases Adam and others from hell; St. Michael escorts them to Paradise Do not hold to everything Seasons for Fasting in Moses’s teaching; follow Pope Gregory’s teaching As Pope Gregory taught, Ælfric, Dominica in Ii. 4. 6, item 5 the lower clergy may Sexagesima (CH II.6) (Godden VI, lines marry soberly, but clergy 136‒46) who serve the altar may not marry Metrical Chronicle of TCC R. 4. 26 (Wright The rift between St. Augustine and the monks Robert of Gloucester 1:339‒40, lines of Bangor 4812‒14 and 4819‒21) God has established three Gg. 3. 28, item 46 Ælfric, VIII Id. Ian. things for humanity’s sermo in æpiphania (Godden III, lines purification: baptism, the 228‒29) domini (CH II.3) eucharist, and penance Bodleian Laud Misc. The pope’s manner of Anglo-Saxon addressing archbishops Chronicle, annal for 636, via Spelman, and bishops: he entreats Concilia, p. 165 675 an archbishop but (Irvine, p. 31, lines commands a bishop 30‒31, 32‒33) Peter’s dying words, Gg. 3. 28, item 28 Ælfric, III Kal. Iul. passio apostolorum (Clemoes XXVI, lines returning to Christ the sheep put into his charge 270‒71) Petri et Pauli (CH so that they would not be I.26) shepherdless Pope Gregory wanted the Ælfric, IIII Id. Mart. Gg. 3. 28, item 52 pallium to be the marker s. Gregorii pape (CH (Godden IX, line of archiepiscopal dignity 250) II.9)



Location within edition II.11 (p. 135)

Wheelock’s Bede and Its Supplementary Materials

Text quoted

Source

II.13 (p. 144)

Ælfric, XVIII Kal. Sept. assumptio s. Mariæ virginis (CH I.30) Ælfric, De temporibus anni

Gg. 3. 28, item 32 (Clemoes XXX, lines 167‒69)

II.17 (p. 151)

Ælfric, Dominica post ascensionem domini

II.18 (p. 153)

Ælfric, IIII Id. Mart. s. Gregorii pape (CH II.9) Ælfric, In natale unius apostoli (CH II.35) Ælfric, XI Kal. Oct. natale s. Matthei apostoli et evangelistæ (CH II.32) Ælfric, Dominica Pentecosten

II.19 (pp. 154‒55) (pp. 155‒56)

(p. 156) III.2 (p. 165) (p. 165)

187

Content of passage

God has commanded us through the prophets that we should praise and magnify him in his saints The sun signifies Christ, Gg. 3. 28, item 93 the waxing and waning (Blake, p. 78, lines moon the church, the 63‒75) stars the faithful; Christ illumines all; our light is nothing without the grace of Christ The king is Christ’s vicar, Ii. 4. 6, item 32 consecrated as shepherd (Pope IX, lines of the faithful, to protect 48‒53) them from attackers Pope Gregory was the Gg. 3. 28, item 52 (Godden IX, lines 1 apostle of the English people and 3‒6) God foresees who are Gg. 3. 28, item 86 (Godden XXXV, lines chosen; we are saved by his grace 63‒90) Christ through his grace Gg. 3. 28, item 82 (Godden XXXII, lines justifies those whom he chooses, not those who 70‒79) think themselves just

Ii. 4. 6, item 34 (Pope X, lines 100‒119) Ii. 1. 33, item 31 Ælfric, Non. Aug. (Skeat XXVI, lines natale s. Oswaldi regis et martyris (LS 17‒20) 26) Ælfric, Dominica V in Ii. 4. 6, item 16 (Godden XIII, lines Quadragesima (CH 290‒93) II.13)

The Holy Spirit bestows grace upon whom he will

King Oswald erected a cross before battle and told his followers to fall down before it When we pray to the cross we are praying to the Lord who hung from it, not to the wood

188

Timothy Graham

Location within edition (p. 165)

III.3 (pp. 167‒68) (p. 168)

III.5 (p. 172)

(pp. 172‒73)

(p. 173)

(pp. 173‒74) III.7 (p. 179)

Text quoted

Source

Content of passage

Christians should bow to Gg. 3. 28, item 63 Ælfric, V Non. Mai. inventio s. crucis (CH (Godden XVIII, lines the cross in the Saviour’s name; the likeness of the 53‒61) II.18) cross is holy because of Christ’s Passion The respective Ælfric, Feria secunda Gg. 3. 28, item 65 responsibilities of a (Godden XIX, lines letania maiore (CH Christian king and bishop 93‒104) II.19) Every bishop and every Gg. 3. 28, item 19 Ælfric, Dominica teacher is a shepherd secunda post Pasca (Clemoes XVII, lines 18‒24, 26‒27, to the people of God, (CH I.17) defending them from the 41‒46) wolf—that is, the devil— with teaching and prayers Christians should refresh Ælfric, Dominica I in Gg. 3. 28, item 41 themselves spiritually adventu domini (CH (Clemoes XXXIX, with salutary doctrine lines 75‒79) I.39) on their lips and psalter in hand; drunkenness is pernicious The faithful should avoid Gg. 3. 28, item 78 Ælfric, XVIII Kal. (Godden XXIX, lines heretical writings; they Sept. assumptio s. should read and listen to 119‒33) Mariæ virginis (CH the holy books that are II.29) divinely inspired and lead to heaven The good servant of the Gg. 3. 28, item 89 Ælfric, In natale parable (Luke 19: 18‒19) (Godden XXXVIII, unius confessoris represents laymen who lines 54‒59) (CH II.38) give a good example to others, teaching what they understand through their outer senses The benefits of reading Ii. 1. 33, item 41 OE Alcuin, De the Scriptures (Assmann, p. 374, virtutibus et vitiis, line 75‒p. 375, line ch. V 99) Christ wished to be Gg. 3. 28, item 46 Ælfric, VIII Id. Ian. baptized to set an example sermo in æpiphania (Godden III, lines of humility to kings and 91‒98) domini (CH II.3) other powerful men



Wheelock’s Bede and Its Supplementary Materials

189

Location within edition (pp. 179‒80)

Text quoted

Source

Content of passage

Ælfric, VIII Id. Ian. sermo in æpiphania domini (CH II.3)

Gg. 3. 28, item 46 (Godden III, lines 195‒98, 214‒30)

(pp. 180‒81)

Ælfric, VIII Id. Ian. sermo in æpiphania domini (CH II.3)

Gg. 3. 28, item 46 (Godden III, lines 245‒56, 270‒90)

III.13 (pp. 195‒97)

Gg. 3. 28, item 90 Ælfric, In natale sanctarum virginum (Godden XXXIX, lines 167‒68, (CH II.39) 171‒74, 176‒98, 208‒19)

III.18 (p. 208)

Ælfric, Dominica I post Pentecosten

III.19 (p. 213)

Ælfric, In letania maiore feria tertia (CH II.20)

TCC B. 15. 34, item 18 (Pope XII, lines 120‒21) Gg. 3. 28, item 66 (Godden XX, lines 14‒15, 248‒50)

(p. 215)

Ælfric, In letania maiore feria tertia (CH II.20)

Gg. 3. 28, item 66 (Godden XX, lines 218‒20)

Christ is the source of baptism; no one should be baptized twice; God established three lofty things to cleanse us from sins—baptism, the eucharist, and penance The promises made at baptism; in infant baptisms, the godfather speaks on the child’s behalf Christians should not be like the foolish virgins of the parable; they should seek God’s mercy now, not expect Mary and the saints to rescue them after the Judgement OE cild, cnapa, and cniht refer to different stages of childhood/youth St. Paul’s vision of the heavens, and Fursey’s; the burn that Fursey received on his shoulder and face remained visible thereafter Preach to all that they should do penance and make confession to priests to the end of their lives The physician of souls is made cognizant of our deeds

(p. 216)

Anonymous, De confessione

CCCC 201, part 2, item 50(b), via Spelman, Concilia, p. 457 (Thorpe, Ancient Laws, 2:260, § I, lines 1‒2)

190

Timothy Graham

Location within edition (p. 216)

Text quoted

Source

Content of passage

Ælfric, Feria III de dominica oratione (CH I.19)

TCC B. 15. 34, item 10 (Clemoes XIX, lines 120‒22, 204‒5)

(p. 216)

TCC B. 15. 34, item Ælfric, Sermo ad populum, in octavis 17 (Pope XI, lines Pentecosten dicendus 195‒98, 396‒99)

III.21 (p. 220)

Ælfric, In ascensione Gg. 3. 28, item 23 domini (CH I.21) (Clemoes XXI, lines 99‒101, 137‒39, 146‒51)

(pp. 220‒21)

Ælfric, De veteri testamento et novo

One afflicted with mortal sins must make amends before partaking of the eucharist; one who will not repent in this life will not gain forgiveness in the life to come (here and for the next passage, Wheelock notes the presence of marginal comments in TCC B. 15. 34 stating that confession must be made to a confessor) God will have mercy on those who convert and confess their sins; unconfessed and unatoned sins will be made manifest in the hereafter Jesus’s command to the apostles to preach throughout the world; those who believe, are baptized, and manifest their faith through good deeds will be saved Christians must show their faith with deeds, not just with words

III.23 (p. 228)

Ælfric, In caput ieiunii (LS 12)

L’Isle, A Saxon Treatise Concerning the Old and New Testament, fol. 29r (Crawford, pp. 57‒58, lines 952‒53, 955‒73) Ii. 4. 6, item 7 (Skeat We should not fast XII, lines 3‒10) or kneel on Sundays; drunkenness and gluttony are to be avoided on all days, and especially in Lent



Location within edition (pp. 228‒29)

III.25 (pp. 236‒37)

(pp. 237‒38) (pp. 238‒39)

III.26 (pp. 243‒44) (p. 244)

(p. 244)

III.27 (p. 244)

Wheelock’s Bede and Its Supplementary Materials

Text quoted

Source

Ælfric, De oratione Moysi in medio Quadragesime (LS 13)

Ii. 4. 6, item 15 (Skeat XIII, lines 89‒115)

191

Content of passage

We should not fast too zealously; the fasting most pleasing to God is that which shuns evil and propitiates with right worship Christ himself is the stone Ælfric, In festivitate Gg. 3. 28, item 72 (Godden XXIV, lines on which the church is s. Petri apostoli III built; Peter, whose name 154‒75) Kal. Iul. (CH II.24) means “of stone,” is a figure of the church Peter was named for the Gg. 3. 28, item 28 Ælfric, III Kal. Iul. passio apostolorum (Clemoes XXVI, lines strength of his faith; Christ himself is the stone on 60‒78) Petri et Pauli (CH which the church is built I.26) Christ gave the power Gg. 3. 28, item 28 Ælfric, III Kal. Iul, passio apostolorum (Clemoes XXVI, lines of binding and loosing to Peter, then to all the 78‒96) Petri et Pauli (CH apostles; the same power I.26) is given to bishops and priests Sunday, the day on which Ælfric, Dominica in Gg. 3. 28, item 55, media Quadragesime and Ii. 4. 6, item 13 Christ rose, is the day of rest for Christians (Godden XII, lines (CH II.12) 273‒74, 300‒308) Sunday, on which Christ Anonymous, De CCCC 198, item 26 sabbato sancto (Evans, p. 138, lines rose from the dead, is the first day of the new law, 134‒38, 142‒44) proclaimed as the day of rest in honour of the Resurrection After Sunday service, OE Theodulfi CCCC 201, part 2, capitula, ch. 24 item 3, via Spelman, Christians should refresh themselves spiritually Concilia, p. 601 (Sauer, p. 337, lines at home, guarding against over-eating and 23‒27) drunkenness Fasting should be Ælfric, Dominica I in Ii. 4. 6, item 8 accompanied by Quadragessima (CH (Clemoes XI, lines almsgiving 209‒11) I.11)

192

Timothy Graham

Location within edition (pp. 244‒46)

Text quoted

(p. 246)

Ælfric, Dominica I in Quadragessima (CH I.11) Ælfric, Dominica VI post Pentecosten

Ii. 4. 6, item 8 (Clemoes XI, line 205) TCC B. 15. 34, item 23 (Pope XIV, lines 81‒87, 89‒102, 105‒14)

IV.2 (p. 260)

The Burghal Hidage

Cotton Otho B. xi, item 8 (Rumble, p. 26, lines 14‒15)

IV.3 (p. 268)

Ælfric, Dominica I in adventu domini (CH I.39) Ælfric, Feria secunda letania maiore (CH II.19)

Gg. 3. 28, item 41 (Clemoes XXXIX, lines 50‒52) Gg. 3. 28, item 65 (Godden XIX, lines 54‒59)

IV.1 (pp. 257‒58)

(pp. 268‒69)

(p. 269)

Source

Ælfric, Dominica I in Ii. 4. 6, item 9 (Godden VII, lines Quadragesima (CH 11‒14, 18‒25, II.7) 35‒46, 54‒58, 64‒85)

TCC B. 15. 34, item Ælfric, Sermo ad populum, in octavis 17 (Pope XI, lines Pentecosten dicendus 150‒52)

Content of passage The forty-day Lenten fast is based on the examples of Moses, Elijah, and Jesus; no fast is acceptable to God unless we refrain from sins; we must also give alms No fast is acceptable to God without peace

The two ships of Luke 5: 1‒11 signify Jews who turned to Christ, and Gentiles who recognize him; the English have been sluggish in observing God’s ordinances and have set up new ones of their own The number of hides pertaining to Cricklade and Oxford (the note is linked to Wheelock’s speculation that Archbishop Theodore’s school was at Cricklade) At the Judgement, each will get what they have earned in the body We should not despair of heaven because of the immensity of our sins; only those who continue to sin and do not repent should despair God’s promise of heavenly joy will not be taken away from us (on account of his mercy, not our own goodness)



Wheelock’s Bede and Its Supplementary Materials

193

Location within edition (p. 269)

Text quoted

Source

Content of passage

Ælfric, Dominica X post Pentecosten

IV.9 (pp. 282‒83)

TCC B. 15. 34, item 27 (Pope XVI, lines 168‒69, 173‒76, 179‒84)

TCC B. 15. 34, item Ælfric, Sermo ad populum, in octavis 17 (Pope XI, lines Pentecosten dicendus 200‒207)

(p. 283)

Ælfric, Dominica I in Ii. 4. 6, item 8 Quadragessima (CH (Clemoes XI, lines 24‒25, 116‒26) I.11)

(pp. 283‒84)

Ælfric, Dominica II in Quadragesima (CH II.8)

Zacheus, who gave away his possessions to the poor (cf. Luke 19: 1‒10), was justified by Christ’s coming to his home Death is not equally difficult for all; for the sinful, a difficult death can bring remission of some sins Christians should worship God alone; we beseech holy men to intercede for us, but we do not worship them as we do God The disciples interceded with Jesus on behalf of the Canaanite woman (cf. Matthew 15: 21‒23) Christ is our intercessor with the Father

(p. 284) (p. 284) (pp. 284‒85)

IV.19 (p. 309)

Ælfric, Dominica V post Pascha

Ii. 4. 6, item 10 (Godden VIII, lines 51‒52, 58‒65)

Ælfric, Feria III de dominica oratione (CH I.19)

Ii. 4. 6, item 26 (Pope VIII, lines 29‒30, 208‒12) Gg. 3. 28, item 21 (Clemoes XIX, lines 26‒33)

Ælfric, De oratione Moysi in medio Quadragesime (LS 13)

Ii. 4. 6, item 15 (Skeat XIII, lines 28‒68, 87‒90, 216‒18)

Ælfric, In Quadragesima de penitentia

Gg. 3. 28, item 95 (Thorpe, Sermones, 2:604, lines 15‒16)

Christ is our brother, if we obey and worship the Father; we may call upon Christ as a brother Every Christian shall know the Lord’s Prayer and the Creed, and shall pray with the Lord’s Prayer Christians should pray to God in their difficulties; the soul lives by doctrine and prayer as the body lives by food and drink; God’s ministers can intercede for layfolk (Wheelock notes that there is no mention here of invoking the saints)

194

Timothy Graham

Location within edition IV.20 (p. 312) (pp. 313‒14)

(p. 314)

IV.22 (p. 319)

IV.24 (pp. 331‒32)

(pp. 332‒33)

Text quoted

Source

Ælfric, IX Kal. Iul. natale s. Æðeldryðe virginis (LS 20) Ælfric, Kal. Nov. natale omnium sanctorum (CH I.36)

Ii. 1. 33, item 4 (Skeat XX, lines 1‒19) Gg. 3. 28, item 38 (Clemoes XXXVI, lines 16‒24, 34‒37, 116‒23, 137‒46)

Content of passage

Æthelthryth preserved her virginity through two marriages Angels and holy humans are honoured on All Saints’ Day; Mary is glorious among the saints; may God grant that through the saints’ intercession we may be associated with them Let us beseech the Gg. 3. 28, item 38 Ælfric, Kal. Nov. Almighty that through (Clemoes XXXVI, natale omnium the intercession of the sanctorum (CH I.36) lines 284‒91) saints he may grant us the abundance of his mercy The benefits of the mass Gg. 3. 28, item 68 Ælfric, Hortatorius for the living and the sermo de efficacia s. (Godden XXI, lines dead; Bede’s story of the 140‒59, 176‒80) missæ (CH II.21) captive thegn freed by his brother’s saying masses for him; Pope Gregory wrote about the efficacy of the mass in his Dialogues The church’s singers OE Enlarged Rule of CCCC 191 are to bring the minds Chrodegang, ch. 48 (Langefeld, p. 265, of the congregation to lines 1‒6, and p. 267, lines 17‒27) the memory and love of heavenly things; they are to be humble, not made proud by their gift L’Isle, Divers Ancient The error of priests who Ælfric, Pastoral keep throughout the year Letter to Wulfsige of Monuments in the the communion bread Saxon Tongue, sig. Sherborne consecrated on Easter S1v (Fehr I, p. 29, line 10‒p. 31, line 4) Day, for ministration to the sick; the bread is Christ’s body spiritually, not corporeally



Location within edition (pp. 333‒35)

IV.25 (pp. 340‒45) IV.28 (p. 354)

Wheelock’s Bede and Its Supplementary Materials

Text quoted

Source

L’Isle, Divers Ancient Monuments in the Saxon Tongue, sigs. S2v‒S4v (Fehr V, p. 178, line 5‒p. 180, line 30, and p. 182, line 4‒p. 186, line 8) Ii. 1. 33, item 41 OE Alcuin, De (Assmann, p. 382, virtutibus et vitiis, line 68‒p. 386, line chs. XI‒XIII 386) Ælfric, XIII Kal. Apr. Gg. 3. 28, item 53 depositio s. Cuthberti (Godden X, lines 239‒42) episcopi (CH II.10)

Ælfric, Second OE Pastoral Letter to Wulfstan

II Æthelstan

Lambarde, Archaionomia, fol. 67v (Liebermann, 1:166, lines 1‒3)

(p. 354)

I Edmund, prologue

IV.29 (p. 357)

Alfred, prologue

(p. 357)

Alfred, prologue

Presumably Lambarde, Archaionomia, fol. 72v (Liebermann, 1:184, prologue, lines 1‒4) Lambarde, Archaionomia, fol. 23v (Liebermann, 1:40, prologue, §38) Lambarde, Archaionomia, fol. 24v (Liebermann, 1:42, prologue, §49)

(p. 354)

195

Content of passage Ælfric’s more extended treatment of the same points covered in the previous passage The value of compunction and confession; the nature of penance Cuthbert chosen bishop at a synod presided over by King Ecgfrith and Archbishop Theodore II Æthelstan was established at the synod summoned by Æthelstan at Grateley, attended by Archbishop Wulfhelm and all the nobles and witan Edmund assembled a great meeting of ecclesiastics and layfolk in London at Eastertide Give the tenth part of your money and your firstfruits to God

Christ said that he came into the world not to break or suppress the Law but to augment it

196

Timothy Graham

Location within edition (pp. 357‒58)

Text quoted

Source

Content of passage

OE Theodulfi capitula, ch. 35

CCCC 201, part 2, item 3, via Spelman, Concilia, p. 610 (Sauer, p. 373, line 1‒p. 375, line 18)

(p. 358)

OE Enlarged Rule of Chrodegang, ch. 73

CCCC 191 (Langefeld, p. 313, ch. LXXIII, title and lines 1‒6)

(p. 358)

Gg. 3. 28, item Ælfric, Pastoral Letter to Wulfsige of 97, and Spelman, Concilia, p. 578 Sherborne (Fehr I, p. 16, lines 1‒4)

IV.30 (p. 363)

Ælfric, XIII Kal. Apr. Gg. 3. 28, item 53 depositio s. Cuthberti (Godden X, lines 1‒19) episcopi (CH II.10)

(p. 363)

Ælfric, IIII Id. Mart. s. Gregorii pape (CH II.9)

Those who live by trade are to seek worldly goods in such a way that they do not lose eternal life; they are to render to God the tenth part of what they earn, and are to give alms from the remaining nine parts Priests are to divide up the people’s tithes before witnesses, giving the first part to the adornment of the church; the second part is to be dispensed to the poor and strangers; the priests are to reserve the third part for themselves The holy fathers established that tithes are to be divided up with one part going to the needs of the church, one part to the poor, one part to God’s ministers who serve the church Bede in his Life of Cuthbert reported how the boy Cuthbert was told by a younger boy that God had chosen him to be a bishop, to open the entrance to heaven for his people Christ opened the entrance to heaven by his Passion

IV.31 (p. 364)

OE Enlarged Rule of Chrodegang, ch. 43

Gg. 3. 28, item 52, and Ii. 1. 33, item 25 (Godden IX, line 196) CCCC 191 (Langefeld, p. 255, lines 9‒26)

The duties of brothers assigned to look after the poor and strangers



Wheelock’s Bede and Its Supplementary Materials

197

Location within edition V.1 (pp. 371‒72)

Text quoted

Source

Content of passage

Ælfric, In letania maiore feria IV (CH II.22)

Gg. 3. 28, item 69 (Godden XXII, lines 25‒27, 31‒49)

V.2 (p. 372)

Ælfric, Dominica III post epiphania domini (CH I.8)

V.4 (pp. 376‒88)

Ii. 4. 6, item 2 (Clemoes VIII, lines 22‒25, 27‒28, 29‒31, 54‒60)

Gg. 3. 28, item 91 Ælfric, In dedicatione ecclesiæ (Godden XL, lines 1‒317) (CH II.40)

V.7 (p. 395)

Ii. 4. 6, item 17 Ælfric, Dominica (Godden XIV, lines palmarum de passione domini (CH 139‒42) II.14)

(p. 395)

Ælfric, Dominica palmarum de passione domini (CH II.14) Ælfric, Alius sermo de die Paschæ (CH II.16)

The Father glorified the Son that all creatures might bow with bended knee to Jesus, true man and true God in one person When doing good deeds, Christians should not broadcast their actions, following Christ’s example when he healed the leper The spiritual significance of the Old Testament temple, Solomon, and the queen of Sheba; the right way to establish a new monastery Why would the Almighty suffer Peter, whom he set as teacher and pastor over all the peoples, to deny him so many times through fear? Christ preserved his disciples so that they could be teachers to all nations To Peter in particular is committed guardianship over Christians; Peter draws the faithful from the stormy sea of the world to eternal stability Christ forbade Peter to use the sword; let no servant of God use weapons if he wishes to follow in Christ’s footsteps The apostles appointed James to Jesus’s seat; all the faithful obeyed him

(p. 396)

(p. 396)

(pp. 396‒97)

Ii. 4. 6, item 17 (Godden XIV, lines 99‒103)

Ii. 4. 6, item 22 (Godden XVI, lines 173‒76, 179‒84)

Ii. 4. 6, item 17 Ælfric, Dominica (Godden XIV, lines palmarum de passione domini (CH 107‒13) II.14) Ælfric, In die sancto Pentecosten (CH I.22)

Probably Ii. 4. 6, item 20 (Clemoes XXII, lines 98‒105)

198

Timothy Graham

Location within edition (p. 397)

Text quoted

Source

Ælfric, In letania maiore (CH I.18)

(pp. 397‒98)

Ælfric, Dominica II post Pascha (CH I.17, additional passage)

None is good save God Gg. 3. 28, item 20 (Clemoes XVIII, lines alone; let those who would be good call upon 153‒66) God to make them good TCC B. 15. 34, item 5 God in his mercy seeks out (Clemoes, Appendix us, his lost sheep B, no. 3, lines 191‒97) God’s mercy anticipates Ii. 4. 6, item 4 and supports our good (Godden V, lines will 219‒21, 226‒27, 228‒32) The wicked are not TCC B. 15. 34, item written into the book of 17 (Pope XI, lines life in the eternal mind, 466‒72) but the holy are; this predestination is from the beginning The church is the bride Gg. 3. 28, item 37 of Christ; through her he (Clemoes XXXV, begets spiritual children lines 40‒46) Christ is the pure Gg. 3. 28, item 47 bridegroom; the church, (Godden IV, lines his bride, gives birth to 29‒36, 42‒43) spiritual children through faith and baptism Christ gave the power Gg. 3. 28, item 18 (Clemoes XVI, lines of remitting sins to the apostles and to all 73‒92) bishops; bishops who wrongly follow their own will, lose that power St. Benedict destroyed Gg. 3. 28, item 54 a pagan idol and built a (Godden XI, lines church and an oratory at 171‒78) Monte Cassino; he brought the heathen people to faith in Christ through his constant preaching

(p. 398) (p. 398)

V.10 (9) (p. 404) (p. 404)

Ælfric, Dominica in Septuagesima (CH II.5)

Ælfric, Sermo ad populum, in octavis Pentecosten dicendus

Ælfric, Dominica XXI post Pentecosten (CH I.35) Ælfric, Dominica II post æpiphania domini (CH II.4)

(pp. 404‒5)

Ælfric, Dominica I post Pasca (CH I.16)

V.12 (11) (p. 411)

Ælfric, XII Kal. Apr. s. Benedicti abbatis (CH II.11)

Content of passage



Location within edition V.13 (12) (pp. 420‒22)

(pp. 422‒26)

(p. 426) V.14 (13) and V.15 (14) (p. 432)

V.17 (16) (p. 435) (p. 435) V.20 (19) (p. 448)

Wheelock’s Bede and Its Supplementary Materials

Text quoted

Source

Ælfric, Feria IIII de fide catholica (CH I.20)

Gg. 3. 28, item 22 (Clemoes XX, lines 248‒77)

199

Content of passage

Christ first performed miracles of healing himself, then did so through the apostles; God now works miracles at places where the holy are buried, to confirm people’s faith; no one can do anything good without God; at the Day of Judgement, all will receive recompense for their deeds The basic precepts of Gg. 3. 28, item 95 Ælfric, In (Thorpe, Sermones, the Christian faith (as Quadragesima de 2:602, line 1‒2:608, Wheelock points out, they penitentia include no mention of line 14) Purgatory) We cannot live without Ælfric, Dominica VII TCC B. 15. 34, item sinning; we should ever post Pentecosten 24 (Pope XV, lines turn to God and pray to 39‒44, 47‒48, his mercy 222‒30) The Scriptures urge us OE Enlarged Rule of CCCC 191 to confess our sins; we Chrodegang, ch. 29 (Langefeld, p. 229, must atone through true lines 1‒15) humility and confession to our bishop or spiritual senior Emperor Heraclius’s Ælfric, XVIII Kal. Oct. Ii. 1. 33, item 39 prayer on restoring the (Skeat XXVII, lines exaltatio s. crucis cross to Jerusalem 115‒24) (LS 27) Empress Helena’s Gg. 3. 28, item 63 Ælfric, V Non. Mai. inventio s. crucis (CH (Godden XVIII, lines discovery of the true cross 1‒2, 39‒44) II.18) Mary was born like others, Ælfric, De s. Maria Gg. 3. 28, item 81 of a father and mother; (Godden XXXI, (CH II.31) they were Joachim and p. 271, lines 1‒10) Anna; Ælfric will not write more about them, lest he fall into error

200

Timothy Graham

Location within edition (p. 448)

Text quoted

(p. 449)

Ælfric, XVIII Kal. Sept. assumptio s. Marie virginis (CH I.30)

(p. 450)

Ælfric, In natale unius apostoli (CH II.35)

(p. 450)

Ælfric, VIII Kal. Iul. nativitas s. Iohannis baptistæ (CH I.25)

V.22 (21) (p. 460)

Source

Gg. 3. 28, item 15 Ælfric, III Kal. Apr. adnuntiatio s. Mariæ (Clemoes XIII, lines 125‒38) (CH I.13)

Old English Gospels

Content of passage

Mary was sanctified by the overshadowing of the Holy Spirit; all humans are conceived in iniquity and born in sin; Christ alone was conceived without iniquity and born without sin Through Mary the gate of Gg. 3. 28, item 32 (Clemoes XXX, lines heaven was opened for us; God ordered us to magnify 163‒84) him in his saints; to honour Mary is to praise God Jesus said that whatever Gg. 3. 28, item 86 (Godden XXXV, lines we ask of the Father in his name, he will give us; 105‒12) one who asks for what pertains to salvation asks in Jesus’s name Let us pray to Jesus that Gg. 3. 28, item 27 (Clemoes XXV, lines through the intercession of John the Baptist he may 223‒26) have mercy on us Without quoting the Ii. 2. 11? (Liuzza, actual OE text, Wheelock 1:61, 1:96, 1:154, notes how the OE versions and 1:199) of Matthew 28: 1, Mark 16: 1, 2, and 9, Luke 23: 54, 56, and 24: 1, and John 20: 1 refer to the Jewish sabbath as Saturday, and to Sunday as the day of rest



Wheelock’s Bede and Its Supplementary Materials

Location within edition (pp. 460‒61)

Text quoted

Source

Anonymous, Sunnandæges spell and Sermo angelorum nomina

(p. 462)

Wulfstan, Sermo de baptismate

CCCC 419, items 2 and 3 (Haines, Letter E, p. 146, lines 1‒8, p. 150, lines 39‒41, p. 152, lines 64‒65; Letter B, p. 118, lines 17‒18, 18‒21, 27‒29, p. 122, lines 91‒93, 81‒83; Letter E, p. 166, lines 164‒69)

(pp. 462‒79)

Ælfric, Sermo de sacrificio in die Pascæ (CH II.15)

V.24 (23) (pp. 485‒92; p. 485 is misnumbered as 481, p. 492 as 488) V, following Bede’s concluding prayer (p. 495)

Wulfstan, De fide catholica Wulfstan, De temporibus Antichristi

201

Content of passage

The Lord’s letter (i.e., the Sunday Letter) says fire will descend on those who do not observe Sunday as the day of rest; Sunday should be kept from the ninth hour on Saturday until dawn on Monday; sitting in judgement, swearing an oath, and various other activities must not be undertaken on Sunday Two things, baptism CCCC 419, item 5 and the eucharist, are (Bethurum VIIIc, so important that no lines 36‒38) one may ever corrupt or diminish them in any way The bread and wine of the Gg. 3. 28, item 58 eucharist are Christ’s body (Godden XV, lines and blood in a spiritual, 1‒337) not a corporeal sense The importance of CCCC 419, item 6 (Bethurum VII, lines right faith; the basics of Christian belief 1‒174) CCCC 419, item 1 (Napier XLII, p. 191, line 25‒p. 192, line 1; p. 197, line 14‒p. 198, line 1)

The time of Antichrist, who raises himself above the heathen gods, is approaching; the Holy Trinity alone is to be adored, praised, and worshipped

202

Timothy Graham

Location within edition (pp. 495‒98)

Text quoted

Source

Content of passage

Ælfric, Her is geleafa, and gebed, and bletsung, læwedum mannum, ðe ðæt leden ne cunnon

Gg. 3. 28, item 94 (Thorpe, Sermones, 2:596, line 1‒2:600, line 28)

Old English versions of the Lord’s Prayer, the Apostles’ Creed, the Nicene Creed, and various prayers (Wheelock’s point is that all the texts name God/the Trinity alone, with no invocation of saints)

Editions Cited within the Table

ASPR 6: Elliott van Kirk Dobbie, ed., The Anglo-Saxon Poetic Records: A Collective Edition, vol. 6: The Anglo-Saxon Minor Poems (New York: Columbia University Press, 1942). Assmann: Bruno Assmann, “Ü� bersetzung von Alcuin’s De virtutibus et vitiis liber ad Widonem comitem,” Anglia 11 (1889): 371–91. Belfour: A. O. Belfour, ed., Twelfth Century Homilies in MS. Bodley 343. Part I: Text and Translation, Early English Text Society, Original Series 137 (1909; repr. London: Oxford University Press, 1962). Bethurum: Dorothy Bethurum, ed., The Homilies of Wulfstan (1957; repr. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1998). Blake: Martin Blake, ed., Ælfric’s “De temporibus anni,” Anglo-Saxon Texts 6 (Cambridge: Brewer, 2009). Clemoes: Peter Clemoes, ed., Ælfric’s Catholic Homilies: The First Series, Text, Early English Text Society, Supplementary Series 17 (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1997). Crawford: S. J. Crawford, ed., The Old English Version of the Heptateuch, Aelfric’s Treatise on the Old and New Testament and His Preface to Genesis, Early English Text Society, Original Series 160 (1922; repr. Millwood: Kraus, 1990). Cross: J. E. Cross, ed., Two Old English Apocrypha and their Manuscript Source: “The Gospel of Nichodemus” and “The Avenging of the Saviour,” Cambridge Studies in Anglo-Saxon England 19 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1996). Evans: Ruth Evans, “An Anonymous Old English Homily for Holy Saturday,” Leeds Studies in English, new ser., 12 (1981): 129–53. Fehr: Bernhard Fehr, ed., Die Hirtenbriefe Ælfrics in altenglischer and lateinischer Fassung, repr. with a new introduction by Peter Clemoes (Darmstadt: Wissenschaftliche Buchgesellschaft, 1966). Godden: Malcolm Godden, ed., Ælfric’s Catholic Homilies: The Second Series, Text, Early English Text Society, Supplementary Series 5 (London: Oxford University Press, 1979). Haines: Dorothy Haines, ed., Sunday Observance and the Sunday Letter in Anglo-Saxon England, Anglo-Saxon Texts 8 (Cambridge: Brewer, 2010). Irvine: Susan Irvine, ed., The Anglo-Saxon Chronicle: A Collaborative Edition, vol. 7: MS E (Cambridge: Brewer, 2004). Langefeld: Brigitte Langefeld, ed., The Old English Version of the Enlarged Rule of Chrodegang edited together with the Latin Text and an English Translation, Texte und Untersuchungen zur Englischen Philologie 26 (Frankfurt am Main: Lang, 2003).



Wheelock’s Bede and Its Supplementary Materials

203

Liebermann: Felix Liebermann, ed., Die Gesetze der Angelsachsen, 3 vols. (Halle: Niemeyer, 1903–1916). Liuzza: R. M. Liuzza, ed., The Old English Version of the Gospels, 2 vols., Early English Text Society, Original Series 304, 314 (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1994‒2000). Napier: Arthur S. Napier, ed., Wulfstan: Sammlung der ihm zugeschriebenen Homilien nebst Untersuchungen über ihre Echtheit, Sammlung englischer Denkmäler in kritischen Ausgaben 4 (Berlin: Weidmann, 1883). Pope: John C. Pope, ed., Homilies of Ælfric: A Supplementary Collection, 2 vols., Early English Text Society, Original Series 259–60 (London: Oxford University Press, 1967–1968). Rumble: Alexander R. Rumble, “An Edition and Translation of the Burghal Hidage, together with Recension C of the Tribal Hidage,” in The Defence of Wessex: The Burghal Hidage and Anglo-Saxon Fortifications, ed. David Hill and Alexander R. Rumble (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 1991), 14–35. Sauer: Hans Sauer, ed., Theodulfi Capitula in England: Die altenglischen Übersetzungen, zusammen mit dem lateinischen Text, Texte und Untersuchungen zur Englischen Philologie 8 (Munich: Fink, 1978). Skeat: Walter W. Skeat, ed., Ælfric’s Lives of Saints, 4 vols., Early English Text Society, Original Series 76, 82, 94, 114 (1881‒1900; repr. in 2 vols., London: Oxford University Press, 1966). Thorpe, Ancient Laws: Benjamin Thorpe, ed., Ancient Laws and Institutes of England, 2 vols. (London: Commissioners of the Public Records, 1840). Thorpe, Sermones: Benjamin Thorpe, ed., The Homilies of the Anglo-Saxon Church: The First Part, Containing the Sermones Catholici, or Homilies of Ælfric, 2 vols. (London: Ælfric Society, 1844–1846). Wright: William Aldis Wright, ed., The Metrical Chronicle of Robert of Gloucester, 2 vols., Rolls Series 86 (London: Eyre and Spottiswoode, 1887).