Bibliomania in the Middle Ages

by F. Somner Merryweather

But sad misfortunes were in store for the holy monks, for about 793, or a little earlier, when Highbald was abbot, the Danes burnt down the monastery and murdered the ecclesiastics; "most dreadful lightnings and other prodigies," says Simeon of Durham, "are said to have portended the impending ruin of this place; on the 7th of June they came to the church of Lindesfarne, miserably plundered all places, overthrew the altars, and carried away all the treasures of the church, some of the monks they slew, some they carried away captives, some they drowned in the sea, and others much afflicted and abused they turned away naked."[160] Fortunately some of the poor monks escaped, and after a short time returned to their old spot, and with religious zeal set about repairing the damage which the sacred edifice had sustained; after its restoration they continued comparatively quiet till the time of Eardulfus, when the Danes in the year 875, again invaded England and burned down the monastery of Lindesfarne. The monks obtained some knowledge of their coming and managed to effect their escape, taking with them the body of St. Cuthbert, which they highly venerated, with many other honored relics; they then set out with the bishop Eardulfus and the abbot Eadrid at their head on a sort of pilgrimage to discover some suitable resting place for the remains of their saint; but finding no safe locality, and becoming fatigued by the irksomeness of the journey, they as a last resource resolved to pass over to Ireland. For this purpose they proceeded to the sea, but no sooner were they on board the ship than a terrific storm arose, and had it not been for the fond care of their patron saint, a watery grave would have been forever their resting place; but, as it was, their lives were spared, and the holy bones preserved to bless mankind, and work wondrous miracles in the old church of the Saxon monks. Nevertheless, considerable damage was sustained, and the fury of the angry waves forced them back again to the shore. The monks deeming this an indication of God's will that they should remain, decided upon doing so, and leaving the ship, they agreed to proceed on their way rejoicing, and place still greater trust in the mercy of God and the miraculous influence of St. Cuthbert's holy bones; but some whose reliance on Divine providence appears not so conspicuous, became dissatisfied, and separated from the rest till at last only seven monks were left besides their bishop and abbot. Their relics were too numerous and too cumbersome to be conveyed by so small a number, and they knew not how to proceed; but one of the seven whose name was Hanred had a vision, wherein he was told that they should repair to the sea, where they would find a book of Gospels adorned with gold and precious stones, which had been lost out of the ship when they were in the storm; and that after that he should see a bridle hanging on a tree, which he should take down and put upon a horse that would come to him, which horse he should put to a cart he would also find, to carry the holy body, which would be an ease to them. All these things happening accordingly, they travelled with more comfort, following the horse, which way soever he should lead. The book above mentioned was no ways damaged by the water, and is still preserved in the library at Durham,[161] where it remained till the Reformation, when it was stript of its jewelled covering, and after passing through many hands, ultimately came into the possession of Sir Robert Cotton, in whose collection, as we have said before, it is now preserved in the British Museum.

I cannot refrain, even at the risk of incurring some blame for my digression, presenting the reader with a part of a letter full of fraternal love, which Alcuin addressed to the monks of Lindesfarne on this sad occasion.

"Your dearest fraternity," says he, "was wont to afford me much joy. But now how different! though absent, I deeply lament the more your tribulations and calamities; the manner in which the Pagans contaminate the sanctuaries of God, and shed the blood of saints around the altar, devastating the joy of our house, and trampling on the bodies of holy men in the temple of God, as though they were treading on a dunghill in the street. But of what effect is our wailing unless we come before the altars of Christ and cry, 'Spare me, O Lord! spare thy people, and take not thine inheritance from them;' nor let the Pagans say, 'Where is the God of the Christians?' Besides who is to pacify the churches of Britain, if St. Cuthbert cannot defend them with so great a number of saints? Nevertheless do not trouble the mind about these things, for God chasteneth all the sons whom he receiveth, and therefore perhaps afflicts you the more, because he the more loveth you. Jerusalem, the delightful city of God, was lost by the Chaldean scourge; and Rome, the city of the holy Apostles and innumerable martyrs, was surrounded by the Pagans and devastated. Well nigh the whole of Europe is evacuated by the scourging sword of the Goths or the Huns. But in the same manner in which God preserved the stars to illuminate the heavens, so will He preserve the churches to ornament, and in their office to strengthen and increase the Christian religion."[162]

Thus it came to pass that Eardulphus was the last bishop of Lindesfarne and the first of Cunecacestre, or Chester-upon-the-Street, to which place his see was removed previous to its final settlement at Durham.

After a succession of many bishops, some recorded as learned and bookish by monkish annalists, and nearly all benefactors in some way to their church, we arrive at the period when Aldwine was consecrated bishop of that see in the year 990. The commotions of his time made his presidency a troubled and harassing one. Sweyn, king of Denmark, and Olauis, king of Norway, invaded England, and spreading themselves in bodies over the kingdom, committed many and cruel depredations; a strong body of these infested the northern coast, and approached the vicinity of Chester-on-the-Street. This so alarmed Aldwine, that he resolved to quit his church—for the great riches and numerous relics of that holy place were attractive objects to the plundering propensities of the invaders. Carrying, therefore, the bones of St. Cuthbert with them—for that box of mortal dust was ever precious in the sight of those old monks—and the costly treasures of the church, not forgetting their books, the monks fled to Ripon, and the see, which after similar adversities their predecessors one hundred and thirteen years ago had settled at Chester, was forever removed. It is true three or four months after, as Symeon of Durham tells us, they attempted to return, but when they reached a place called Werdelan, "on the east and near unto Durham," they could not move the bier on which the body of St. Cuthbert was carried, although they applied their united strength to effect it. The superstition, or perhaps simplicity, of the monks instantly interpreted this into a manifestation of divine interference, and they resolved not to return again to their old spot. And we are further told that after three days' fasting and prayer, the Lord vouchsafed to reveal to them that they should bear the saintly burden to Durham, a command which they piously and cheerfully obeyed. Having arrived there, they fixed on a wild and uncultivated site, and making a simple oratory of wattles for the temporary reception of their relics, they set zealously to work—for these old monks well knew what labor was—to cut down wood, to clear the ground, and build an habitation for themselves. Shortly after, in the wilderness of that neglected spot, the worthy bishop Aldwine erected a goodly church of stone to the honor of God, and as a humble tribute of gratitude and love; and so it was that Aldwine, the last bishop of Chester-on-the-Street, was the first of Durham.

When William Carelepho, a Norman monk, was consecrated bishop, the church had so increased in wealth and usefulness, that fresh wants arose, more space was requisite, and a grander structure would be preferable; the bishop thereupon pulled the old church of Aldwine down and commenced the erection of a more magnificent one in its place, as the beauty of Durham cathedral sufficiently testifies even now; and will not the lover of artistic beauty award his praise to the Norman bishop—those massive columns and stupendous arches excite the admiring wonder of all; built on a rocky eminence and surrounded by all the charms of a romantic scenery, it is one of the finest specimens of architecture which the enthusiasm of monkish days dedicated to piety and to God. Its liberal founder however did not live to see it finished, for he died in the year 1095, two years after laying its foundation stone. His bookloving propensities have been honorably recorded, and not only was he fond of reading, but kept the pens of the scribes in constant motion, and used himself to superintend the transcription of manuscripts, as the colophon of a folio volume in Durham library fully proves.[163] The monkish bibliophiles of his church received from him a precious gift of about 40 volumes, containing among other valuable books Prosper, Pompeii, Tertullian, and a great Bible in two volumes.[164]

It would have been difficult perhaps to have found in those days a body of monks so "bookish" as those of Durham; not only did they transcribe with astonishing rapidity, proving that there was no want of vellum there, but they must have bought or otherwise collected a great number of books; for the see of Durham, in the early part of the 12th century, could show a library embracing nearly 300 volumes.[165]

Nor let the reader imagine that the collection possessed no merit in a literary point of view, or that the monks cared for little else save legends of saints or the literature of the church; the catalogue proves them to have enjoyed a more liberal and a more refined taste, and again display the cloistered students of the middle ages as the preservers of classic learning. This is a point worth observing on looking over the old parchment catalogues of the monks; for as by their Epistles we obtain a knowledge of their intimacy with the old writers, and the use they made of them, so by their catalogues we catch a glimpse of the means they possessed of becoming personally acquainted with their beauties; by the process much light may be thrown on the gloom of those long past times, and perhaps we shall gain too a better view of the state of learning existing then. But that the reader may judge for himself, I extract the names of some of the writers whom the monks of Durham preserved and read: