A Masters Thesis Presented to The Faculty of the Department of English University of Houston
In Partial Fulfillment of the Requirements for the Degree Master of Arts© Cynthia Whiddon Green December, 1998
This thesis accompanies the transation of
Jocelyn, a monk of Furness: The Life of Kentigern (Mungo)Preface
Several years ago, in the course of searching for information on another project, I came across the following reference: "Arthur the chief lord at Penrionyd in the north, and Cyndeyrn Garthwys the chief bishop, and Gurthmwl Guledic the chief ruler." Having never seen the name "Cynderyrn" before, I made a note to check further on this bishop, and later found that Saint Kentigern [Cynderyrn] was a late sixth century bishop who had been given the epithet "Apostle to Strathclyde." Then another reference to Cynderyrn showed up in the Bonedd y Saint that described Cynderyrn as the son of Owain ab Urien Rheged and Dwynwen the daughter of Llewddyn Lueddag of Dinas Eiddyn. This pedigree linked Cynderyrn to the regions of the British kingdoms that were under increasing pressure by the expansion of the Anglo-Saxons from the south, a time and place in which I am interested as there are so few extant primary sources concerning "Dark Age" Scotland. The genealogy also tied Cynderyrn to the kingdoms of Rheged and Lothian, and I was intrigued with the possibilities that this connection might have in relation to the rise of the Anglo-Saxon kingdoms of Bernicia and Deira, the conflict between the British Celtic church and the Roman doctrine introduced by St. Augustine, and the continuance of stories pertaining to the "Men of the North" in Welsh oral traditions. However, the most intriguing questions surrounding the story of this bishop and confessor concerned the Life of Saint Kentigern, a hagiographic masterpiece written by a twelfth century monk named Jocelyn of Furness Abbey. What motivated a Cistercian monk in northern Lancashire to write a vita of an obscure sixth century saint of Strathclyde? What were the historical, social, and political contexts surrounding the writing of this Life? And who would be the audience for such a voluminous text?
In looking further into the life and times of Saint Kentigern, I found that W. M. Metcalfe's translation of Pinkerton's edition of Kentigern's Life in the late nineteenth century was the last published translation, but this text at times edited or summarized sections of Kentigern's Life and the nineteenth century rhetoric made for difficult reading. My original plan was to provide a modern translation of Kentigern's Life as a source of reference for both the general reader interested in hagiography as well as for scholars of Scottish studies. However, the process of translating opened up other avenues of inquiry relating to contextualizing Kentigern both as a late sixth century historical figure and as a twelfth century reconstruction by Jocelyn of Furness. Issues of historical veracity, provenance, oral traditions, political agendas, metropolitan conflicts, and other sundry debates seemed inherent in analyzing the text of Kentigern's Life, and the more I plowed into uncovering the historical, social, and political context the vita, the more I realized the scope of the project. The original plan of translating the text gave way to providing an overall introduction into the study of Saint Kentigern. While the thesis contains an examination of the Jocelyn's twelfth century Life of Saint Kentigern, more questions are raised than are answered in the analysis. It is my hope that the issues discussed in the thesis will act as a springboard for further research into the life of this saint.
The thesis examines Kentigern's life from two separate but related historical contexts. The first of these historical periods deals with Kentigern's ministry and apostleship to the sixth century British kingdom of Strathclyde. Although historical documents of this period are scanty, there are certain episodes within Kentigern's vita that confirm the analysis done on this period by Nora Chadwick, Alfred Smyth and other historians of "Dark Age" Scotland. The second avenue of analysis stems from orienting Kentigern's life in the context of the medieval kingdom of Scotland in the twelfth century. The tentative outcome of this line of inquiry places Kentigern as a symbol of the Scottish church's independence from either York or Canterbury, a heavenly protector and patron of David I and his descendents, a proto-Cistercian intent on reforming the "barbaric" practices of the Celtic church, and a powerful intercessor for the native people of Strathclyde, who continued to maintain a perception of Kentigern grounded in an oral tradition plainly contrary to catholic doctrine. Such a multi-layered perspective implies a diverse audience for the text with each audience retaining its own assumptions as to the importance of the saint to their own communities. Each of these sometimes conflicting representations of Kentigern is found within the text of his life, and these views only underscore the immense possibilities for analysis that this vita contains for both literary and historical scholars.
In order to place the Life of Saint Kentigern within its social context, Part One of the thesis defines the importance of saints in the Middle Ages and the hagiographic models used by writers of saints' lives during this time. I begin with a brief overview of the cult of the saints and the role these saints played within their societies. Since part of my analysis of Saint Kentigern is related to his construction by Jocelyn as a soldier of Christ and patron of Glasgow, I believed it was necessary to provide some background into the literary models used by hagiographers in presenting their subjects to their audience. This section summarizes the evolution of the cult of the saints from the early martyrs to the more encompassing sanctity of asceticism and ecclesiastical confessors. The same method is used in presenting the changes in the literary representation of saints from the early acta martyrorum to the more complete narratives of saints in the later Middle Ages, and in the course of the summary, I give some of the reasons behind the changes of hagiographic model and the implications of these changes in relation to the societies which produced these texts. This overview should be helpful in understanding the social value of Jocelyn's Life of Saint Kentigern as well as providing a lens through which to see where Jocelyn diverges from the literary model.
Part Two of the thesis provides a historical survey of the northern sixth century British kingdoms, and their relationships with Wales, Ireland, and the developing Anglo-Saxon kingdoms of Deira and Bernicia. Since the original locus for Kentigern's life takes place in Strathclyde, I considered the historical context important to the overall understanding of the place this saint held within his original cult area. This section describes the "heroic" nature of the sixth century British kingdoms and how aspects of that society are reflected in Kentigern's life. The discussion includes a look at the cultural and linguistic unity between the British kingdoms and lays the groundwork for my argument concerning the retention of legendary tales in Strathclyde that present Kentigern as connected to the earliest Welsh literature alluding to Urien and Owain of Rheged, and by inference to King Arthur. A look at the scholarship surrounding the British church is also discussed as a means of examining the differences between the doctrine and rituals of the early Celtic church and those of the Roman church. Since the debates over reforming the Scottish church in the twelfth century involved to a great extent issues relating to Celtic religious practices, such as clerical marriage and hereditary church offices, an understanding of the ways in which the Celtic church differed from that of the Roman is essential in understanding Jocelyn's representation of Kentigern as a reforming bishop.
Although my translation of Jocelyn's Life of Saint Kentigern is attached as an appendix to the thesis, I realize that some readers may wish to forego reading the entire text of the vita and instead focus exclusively on the analysis. To that end, Part Three offers a summary of Jocelyn's narrative as well as references to the story of Kentigern as related in both the earlier Herbertian or fragmentary life and the sixteenth century Aberdeen Breviary, which contains an Office of St. Kentigern. A comparison of these texts provides the reader with a more thorough understanding of the editorial practices of Jocelyn in his use of sources, especially sources that reflect an oral tradition. By outlining Kentigern's life, there is given to the reader some acquaintance with the text itself and a reference for the events discussed in the later sections of the thesis. Also the summary allows a reader to quickly find a particular passage for further study.
Part Four of the thesis looks at the twelfth century connection between the Cistercians, David I of Scotland, and Jocelyn's representation of Kentigern as a symbol of the Scottish church's victory over York in the matter of ecclesiastical submission. Although David had been brought up at the very Norman court in England, as king of Scotland David was very aware of his Scottish inheritance. His followers were given lands in Strathclyde and Lothian (areas where there was a strong tradition relating to Kentigern) and their continuing patronage of Kentigern and his diocese of Glasgow helped cement a stable relationship between the Norman families and the native Celtic peoples who inhabited this area and looked to Kentigern as their protector. It was also these lands whose boundaries with England were in perpetual flux during the time that Jocelyn is writing, and overlordship of both Strathclyde and Lothian vacillated between Edinburgh and London up to the time of William the Lion, David's grandson. While David was still earl of Strathclyde, he showed his interest in Kentigern by reviving the see at Glasgow and installing his own chaplain, John, as bishop. The choice of a reforming Cistercian monk as bishop of Glasgow may have been influenced by David's friendship with Aelred of Rievaulx, a crusading Cistercian who wrote a life of Ninian, another northern saint in whom David expressed interest. This installation of John as bishop of Glasgow and successor to Kentigern's mantle marks only the beginning of a complex relationship between David I, the reforming order of the Cistercians, and Kentigern. David's largesse to the Cistercians is evidenced by his many grants of land for forming new monasteries, and his patronage in expanding the cult of Kentigern beyond the bounderies of Strathclyde argues for a political motive behind David's interest in an obscure Strathclyde saint. Such a political agenda can be shown in David I's desire to obtain from Rome an archbishopric in Scotland that would be free from the interference of the English church. The convoluted history of the Scottish church's dispute with York is chronicled in this section up to its resolution in favor of Glasgow during the reign of William the Lion in the late twelfth century. Jocelyn, himself a Cistercian at Furness Abbey, was aware of the patronage granted by David I to the Cistercians, and Jocelyn's writings also include a vita of Waltheof, David I's stepson and Cistercian abbot of Melrose. Jocelyn's Life of Saint Kentigern is addressed to Bishop Jocelyn of Glasgow Cathedral, the same bishop who presented Glasgow's case before Rome in the debate over the Scottish church's submission to York. By representing Kentigern as a forerunner of the Cistercian reformers, Jocelyn showed awareness of an audience composed of aristocratic patrons whose agenda was to advance the cause of the Scottish kingdom in both the political and religious arenas.
There are still many unanswered questions concerning David and the Cistercians in Scotland; however, I believe that Jocelyn consciously recontextualized Kentigern as a proto-Cistercian in writing his vita in order to further enhance the patronage of the Norman aristocracy for the diocese of Glasgow, and by extension, for all the Cistercian foundations in Scotland. Furthermore, by linking the victory of Glasgow over the archdiocese of York and the royal prestige of David I and his descendents to the symbolic parallels of Kentigern's victory over the "pagan" elements in Strathclyde, Jocelyn was able to attach the mystical power of Kentigern as a chosen vessel of God to the formation of an independent Scottish church and kingdom protected by God through his saint.
The style and rhetoric of Jocelyn are examined in Part Five as another means of addressing the perplexing question of Jocelyn's audience for his text. Since the primary reason for a saint's life was to provide a model of sanctity and holy living for those hearing the text, a vita was usually composed in a simple Latinate style, termed the sermo humilis. Although the preface to a saint's life might employ several highly ornate rhetorical strategies, the life itself was composed in language that reflected the humility of the saint and Christ. Jocelyn effectively does away with the distinction between the preface and the vita proper and prefers to write the majority of his text in an extremely complex and convoluted style. Such language argues for Jocelyn's perception of his audience as highly literate. The use of ornamental language is most clearly seen when Jocelyn is dismissing the stories of Kentigern still held by the "common" people as being ignorant and contrary to catholic doctrine. I would suggest that Jocelyn consciously employs this ornate language as a rhetorical means of defining his literate audience as those who know the "truth," and representing his illiterate audience as those who believe in "fables." This section also examines Jocelyn's use of other hagiographic stylistic markers such as the "humility topos" and his use of scriptural authority in constructing Kentigern in the likeness of an Old Testament prophet and first century apostle. There are many more avenues of analysis left unanswered by this examination of Jocelyn's rhetoric, especially in his use of language to differentiate and even stratify his audience.
Part Six focuses on both the oral traditions imbedded within the text and Jocelyn's use of these traditions in formulating his construction of Kentigern. First I look at how Kentigern fits the model of a Celtic saint as defined by the motifs found in Irish and Welsh saints' lives. Drawing on the scholarship of Dorothy Bray and Elissa Henken, I came to the conclusion that Kentigern fits the model of a Celtic saint through the inclusion in his life of several motifs and patterns that are found in distinctly Celtic hagiography. This conclusion also implies an awareness on the part of Jocelyn that at least a portion of his audience carried certain assumptions of what constitutes a saint within their own culture. The text of Jocelyn also includes tales, such as "the fish and the ring," that circulated in other Celtic literature, and provides further support for the Celtic provenance of Jocelyn's reconstruction of Kentigern. The representation of Kentigern as a Celtic saint probably stems from two known sources for Jocelyn's text: oral stories that were told to him and a "little book" written in Scottic. Both of these sources are difficult to analyze; however some tentative conclusions can be drawn concerning Jocelyn's use of these materials in his text. Jocelyn invariably states within the text when his sources are oral by using the phrase "and the people say." At times Jocelyn refers to the transmission of a particular story by indicating to whom the story was told as part of his proof that a miracle attributed to Kentigern has a basis in oral authority. However, Jocelyn also will try to refute such tales when they detract from his construction of Kentigern as an ideal saint chosen by God. The second inference that can be drawn from these sources is an even more tentative analysis of the politics of the north in the twelfth century as played out in the tales of the secular northern hero Owain. As there was a definite cultural unity between Strathclyde and northern Wales, the secular hero of both areas would have been Owain, son of Urien, whose exploits are well documented in the Welsh literature and the romances of Chrétien de Troyes. Owain is named as the father of Kentigern in the fragmentary life, although Kentigern's conception is unusual, and in one variant, even violent (i.e., Owain rapes Theneu). However, St. Servanus in the fragmentary life justifies the conception as being necessary so that Kentigern could be born and fulfill his mission as apostle to the "heathen." Although Jocelyn ignores this tale in his text, and even goes to far as to label the story as a "history uncanonical," his reticence to include this story of Kentigern's conception may be interpreted as a rhetorical strategy to downplay the part of Owain in Kentigern's life, and therefore to diminish the role of Owain as a secular hero among the native population. This line of inquiry is further strengthened when the complete absence of any reference to Arthur in the text is acknowledged. Since the Normans in the south had begun appropriating the stories of Arthur into their own reconstructions as heirs of Arthur, it is not too farfetched to see the people of Strathclyde as perpetuating the tales of Owain as a means of authenticating their independence from the south. As has already been shown in Part Four, the Normans who came into Strathclyde under the auspices of David I readily joined themselves to the cause of an independent Scottish kingdom and would have been more inclined to incorporate Owain into their heroic ancestors. Jocelyn, being aware of the heroic nature of Owain, would have been placed in the position of creating an even greater hero in Kentigern in order to displace Owain. This predicament may account for Jocelyn's use of the Myrddin legend as the closing chapter for Kentigern's life. The story of the wild man is known to have been widely distributed and the Vita Merlini Silvestris directly links Myrddin with Kentigern and depicts Kentigern as overcoming the wild man. Also earlier fragments of poetry attributed to Myrddin relate that Myrddin was afraid of Rederech, king of Strathclyde, not because of Rederech's military strength but due to his patronage of monks (i.e., Kentigern). This poetry may be seen as exemplifying the change from a reliance on secular bardic tradition to a Christian ethos. By using this tale to conclude Kentigern's life, Jocelyn may have been redefining Saint Kentigern as the greater hero of the north. This is only one possible conclusion for Jocelyn's use of oral source material in his text and a more in-depth analysis of the material is needed in order to verify this view, but the conclusion does fit the scenario known to have existed in twelfth century Strathclyde.
Finally the thesis concludes with a short look at the written texts of Kentigern's life. The first text discussed is the "Scottic" book referred to by both the author of the fragmentary life and by Jocelyn himself. I suggest that, contrary to Kenneth Jackson's belief that this book was written in "barbarous" Latin, this text was written in Gaelic after the influx of a Gaelic-speaking population into Strathclyde in the early eleventh century. I believe this text incorporated legends that were already in place among the native Brittonic population and this accounts for the extensive knowledge of Lothian geography as well as the Irish folk motifs found in Jocelyn's Life of St. Kentigern. This section also takes a closer look at Jocelyn's use of local legend compared to that of the anonymous author of the fragmentary life. The anonymous author records all the variants of a particular tale irrespective of their moral content while Jocelyn clearly privileges only those tales that support his perception of Kentigern as the ideal heroic saint. The same editorial practice on the part of Jocelyn can be seen in his reworking of material that is found in the later Sprouston Breviary and the Breviary of Aberdeen. These two texts, although written down much later, obviously contain variants of the life of Kentigern that have a connection with the fragmentary life, and as such, can be used in comparison with Jocelyn's text. The final conclusion of this section of the thesis reinforces the earlier statement that Jocelyn used his editorial skills to promote Kentigern as a symbol of an independent Scottish church and as a saint who was chosen by God to bring His people out of darkness and into the light of a reformed and pure nation.
A project of this magnitude requires the imput and advice of many people and can truly be termed a collaborative project. In the process of producing this thesis, I have had to rely on the knowledge and advice of others who were kind enough to listen and provide guidance in a most constructive manner. I want to thank profusely my most supportive mentor and director of this thesis, Dr. John McNamara. Dr. McNamara contributed his time, his wisdom, and a firm guiding hand to keep me focused when I was floundering in chaos. Not only did Dr. McNamara provide me with a workable idea for a thesis, but he also spent the time to proof my translation and gave me invaluable insight into the theory and purpose of translation in general. I could not have asked for a better director and I am indeed indebted to Dr. McNamara's patience in seeing this project through to the end. May the saints always smile on you. I also need to express my thanks and appreciation to Dr. Carl Lindahl, a professor who constantly made me question my assumptions concerning oral traditions, legends, and folklore. I came into this project a novice in the ways of folk traditions, and if I am not yet qualified to call myself a folklorist, at least Dr. Lindahl's advice has kept me aware of the underlying biases I bring to any examination of an oral tradition. I am also indebted to Dr. Lindahl for pointing out the possible ramifications of Jocelyn's use of the Myrddin prophecies in constructing his narrative of Kentigern. Such knowledge was an important contribution to my overall analysis of this text and helped to tie several loose ends together. Another important contributor to the project was Dr. Sally Vaughn. Dr. Vaughn came to the project late and yet was willing to read the text and make substantial notes concerning the politics surrounding the Glasgow-York controversy in the twelfth century. Her knowledge of this time period is immense, and again I can only express my gratitude in having her input for this portion of the thesis. My overall analysis of Jocelyn's audience would be less convincing without her contributions. Dr. Richard Armstrong also spent many hours working with me on my translation, and although the translation itself did not become the focus for this thesis, I want to thank him for his time in this endeavor and for his criticism. Lastly, I need to acknowledge those who allowed me to use them as a sounding board – Laurel Lacroix, Stephanie Deitrich, Dr. Cynthia McNamara, Dr. Lorraine Stock, and Dr. Hilary Mackie. Their comments were always helpful and provided much needed clarity when everything seemed shrouded in darkness. However, the conclusions of the thesis are my own, and I alone am responsible for any glaring errors.
To my husband and my children, thank you for your love. No other words are needed.
Highlands, 1998 C.W.G.
Abstract
This thesis presents an analysis of Jocelyn of Furness's Life of Saint Kentigern, a twelfth century hagiographic text that narrates the life of a sixth century saint in Strathclyde. The primary objective of the thesis centers on formulating a social, historical, and religious context for Jocelyn's text, and by extension, defining the role and purpose of the text for Jocelyn's audience. The format of the analysis follows three main areas of research: (1) the hagiographic model and Jocelyn's use of this model in recreating his text; (2) the historical politics of Scotland in the twelfth century that had a direct bearing on the formulation of the text; and (3) the Jocelyn's editorial practices in relation to local oral tradition concerning Kentigern. The conclusion argues that Jocelyn wrote for a primarily limited audience composed of Cistercian monks whom he considered to be highly literate and knowledgeable of Roman church doctrine. However, Jocelyn was also aware of the social importance of Kentigern as patron saint of Strathclyde, and his incorporation of oral tradition pertaining to this saint is evidence of a secondary audience who retained and perpetuated stories of Kentigern within their own communities and sometimes directly in opposition to the canons of the church. The thesis concludes that Jocelyn, as a hagiographer, uses his editorial skills to effectively present his portrait of Kentigern to a diverse audience as both a saintly hero and symbol of God's protection of an independent Scottish church. Table of Contents
Preface Part One Medieval Saints and Their Lives Part Two The Historical Context of Kentigern Part Three St. Kentigern, A Summary Part Four Jocelyn, Professional Hagiographer Part Five Style and Rhetoric in Jocelyn's Text Part Six Celtic Tradition in Life of Saint Kentigern Part Seven Texts of the Life of Saint Kentigern Part Eight Notes on Commentary A Note on the Translation Map 1 6th and 7th Century Scotland coming soon Map 2 Dedications to St. Kentigern coming soon Bibliography
Medieval Saints and Their Lives
Medieval hagiography, the writings of saints' lives from about AD 500 - 1500, presents an enormous wealth of material in which to uncover belief systems of the past.
At the most basic level, hagiographers sought to compile these vitae in order to present models of sanctity for their readers to imitate. The text of a saint's life was viewed as a type of holy relic in the Middle Ages, and "an attentive reading or hearing of a saint's legend was seen as a form of actual contact with the saint."1 Such a statement, however, raises questions concerning the composition of the audience, the expectations of the community, the role of the "patron saint" within a given culture, as well as the validity of the hagiographer's sources for the life of a particular saint. The narrative of a saint's life can be seen as "a medium for symbolic representation, since the essential thing (res) being signified (the presence of the divine in the saint) exists outside a system where sign and signified can be empirically validated."2 As hagiographers narrate the events in the lives of saints, they will also incorporate their community's cultural and social models within the context of the vitae. Through language, the hagiographer attempts to mediate between the sacred and the secular, and the finished product of the vita stands at the point where the earthly and the divine intersect. In order for such a representation to be efficacious for its intended audience, the hagiographer must also rely on signs and symbols that are drawn from a common belief system – a belief system which tends to incorporate secular tales and legends, the miraculous and the wonderful, and the lore of obscure and local knowledge as opposed to universal religious precepts and authoritative
canons. It is through the examination of the narrative language and style of the hagiographer that a more complete picture of the beliefs of past cultures can be made known to present-day literary and historical scholars.
Hagiography resembles secular biography in some aspects, such as the focus on the veritas of a person's deeds, and in the Middle Ages, these two genres were not considered as distinct from one another. However, hagiography tends to repress or gloss over the individuality of the saint in favor of formulating a representation of the saint as a type of Christ or the prophets. Pre-twelfth century vitae stress the "sameness" of the saints as one rhetorical method for convincing the audience that the saint "was just like other holy people."3 The peculiarities of an individual personality are, as Delehaye so aptly put it, "absorbed" by the "ideal figure" of hagiography's saint.4 The idea that all saints contain a paradigmatic unchangeableness found support in the writings of Gregory the Great:
[The saints] innately possess within themselves a proper changeableness; yet while they always zealously desire to cling to the unchanging truth, by clinging to it they cause it to happen that they become unchanging.5
Even as hagiography tries to compress the representation of saints into a unified whole, the texts of the vitae tend to reflect the cultural mores in which they were written and produced, and are therefore of value in obtaining an understanding of certain cultures that lack written documentation or as sources that may provide insight into other secular writings of that particular society.
Certain conventions are common in all hagiographic writings. Since saints' lives are meant to be models for holy living, parallels between the saint and Christ and between the saint and the apostles and prophets are recorded by the hagiographer. The narrative of a vita usually includes "a sequence of infancy episodes, a description of the saint's person and qualities, an account of his or her career with a heavy emphasis on miracle stories, a death narrative, and a series of posthumous miracles."6 Miraculous intercession after death demonstrated that "the servant of God (the dead saint) now sat in heaven among the community of saints and was able to intercede with Christ to answer the prayers of the faithful on earth."7 The hagiographer usually stresses the high social status of the saint, but other members of a saint's family are mentioned only when they directly either promote or hinder the religious development of the saint. The passio (the "passion" or death) of a martyr will often take the place of a full narrated life, and this subgroup of hagiography follows a different set of conventions.8 However, the common mark of "sanctity" in both the vitae and the acta martyrum depends on the saints' ability to control various critical spheres of human life. Power may be exercised "over kin by breaking familial or conjugal ties, over the enticements of the world by rejecting the privileges associated with high social status; over the body through sexual abstinence and a meager intake of food, over political leaders responsible for maintaining oppressive social conditions by liberating the imprisoned, over non-Christians by coercing them to convert and persecuting them, over rival representatives within the saint's own church by creating factionalism, and over the natural world by miraculously manipulating it."9 This attainment of power is the sine qua non of sanctity and is found in some respect in all lives of the saints, whether they be male and female, martyr and confessor, Continental or Insular.
These conventions only form a working outline for the hagiographer, and the time and place of the writing of a particular vita will effect how closely an author follows the hagiographic model. In early Celtic vitae, for example, more emphasis is placed on the conception and childhood of the saints than is found in Continental, or even Anglo-Saxon, saints' lives. Merovingian authors in general "show a remarkable resistance to literary trends that characteristically display the often tumultuous vicissitudes in a person struggling to attain holiness."10 In later medieval lives, less importance is given to the noble lineage of a saint. The introduction of local legends concerning a particular saint is sometimes at odds with accepted church doctrine, and the hagiographer often must walk a fine line in creating a vita that will satisfy a wide range of audiences. These variations of the model stem from the cultural beliefs of a particular time and place acting upon the author, and the social and political reasons influencing the attempt to textualize a particular saint with a written life.
Before exploring further the genre of hagiography in general, and the importance of Jocelyn's Life of Saint Kentigern to the corpus of Scottish saints' lives in particular, a short overview of the cult of the saints in the Middle Ages may be helpful in placing this literature within its social context.11 The earliest Christian saints were martyrs ("witnesses"), and their deaths were perceived by the church as being confessions of faith to the death and resurrection of Christ. The earliest written accounts of the martyrs usually comprised a catalogue of names along with notes on the death-scene and the place where a martry was buried, but only a few of these early Calenders have survived. The Depositio Martyrum (c. 354) is one such calender listing the anniversaries of several important marytrs in Latin. The most important of the Greek Calenders is the Syrian Martyrology, which is dated about 412. The earliest Latin martyrology, a collection of short martyr narratives collected from several Calenders, was written in Rome near the beginning of the eighth century and is called the Martyrologium Romanum parvum.12 These documents are not authoritative accounts of the martyrs, but seem to be compilations of a personal nature, perhaps collected together as an a aid for private worship. However, it was evidently the custom in the early church to read the names of the martyrs in public on the anniversary of their deaths. St. Cyprian (d. 258) mentions such readings in his letters, and the Third Church Council at Carthage in 397 expressly permitted such recognition of the saints.13 These rather simple written accounts laid the groundwork for the more complete martryologies constructed by Bede, Florus, and Rabanus Maurus in the ninth century. The primary purposes of these myrtyrologies constisted in acting as models of holy living for those who read and heard these narratives and as emblems of faithful service for a church still suffering persecution.
In the early fourth century, Constantine granted political acceptance to Christianity with the Edict of Milan and, as the persecutions against the church ceased, Christianity began to play a more active role in Roman society. The remains of the martyrs were exhumed from the cemetaries and transferred to more prestigious tombs. St. Augustine, aware of the veneration given to the growing cult of the martrys, wrote of the importance in understanding the difference between the devotion to the saints and the adoration of God: "We build temples to our martyrs not like temples for the gods, but as tombs of mortal men, whose spirits live with God. We do not build altars on which to offer sacrifices to martyrs, but we offer sacrifice to God alone, who is both ours and theirs. During this sacrifice they are named in their place and order, in so far as they are men of God who have overcome the world by confessing God, but they are not invoked by the priest who offers sacrifice. He offers sacrifice to God, not to them (although it is celebrated in their memory) because he is God's priest, not the priest of the martyrs. The sacrifice is the Body of Christ."14 Although St. Augustine believed the "temples of the martyrs" should be seen as "tombs of mortal men," the final resting place of the saint was always the locus for the cult, and as such, devotees of a particular cult believed that the intercessorary power of the martyr was greatest at the place where the martyr's physical remains rested. As Maximus of Turnin noted, "All the martyrs, therefore, are to be very devoutly honored, but the ones whose relics we possess are to be especially venerated by us. For they all help us by their prayers, but these help us also by their suffering."15 At the same time as the tombs of the saints gained in importance, the liturgy was expanded to include recognition of these ritual translations of the martyrs.16
As the cult of the martyrs grew, bishops took on the role of organizing "regular celebrations[s] of the feasts of the saints, whose memory was commemorated on the anniversary of their death."17 In addition to commemorations, bishops also acted to control, and sometimes to initiate, the writing of the acta martyrum to narrate the events of the martyrs' deaths. Sometimes the official trial records were used in compiling the passio ("the passion of the saint"), and there are also instances of the martyr's own memoirs being used in creating a passio, as with Saint Perpetua of Carthage.18 The passio relied on the emotional narrative to influence its audience, which was usually comprised of Christian believers. These early martyrs were not canonized in any type of legal ecclesiastical manner, and the act of calling a martyr "a saint" arose primarily within a local church associated with that martyr. The very manner of the martyr's deaths granted the person the title of sanctus (saint) and no other confirmation of saint's intercessory power was needed. The context of the acta martyrum highlighted for those hearing or reading the saint's martyrdom the importance of faith in periods of persecution, and these narratives functioned as texts of consolation for those who were experiencing attacks against their beliefs. The descriptive events in the passio emphasized the confession of Christ's death instead of his life as a model worthy of emulation. The earliest acts of the martyrs were first written in Greek, as were the first Calenders of martyrs. Later, hagiographers relied on a relatively straight-forward Latin style and focused their narratives almost exclusively on the death of the martyr and the miracles associated with the martry in a specific location. However, as the written accounts of saints began to be passed from church to church, local saints could acquire veneration far beyond the confines of their own church. Some saints who had suffered martyrdom in northern Africa, such as Perpetua and Felicity, came to be worshiped in Rome, whereas others achieved almost world-wide veneration as in the case of St. Lucy. Because of the possibility of error or abuse in the transmission of the acta martyrum, the Council of Carthage in 401 "established that every bishop was responsible for overseeing within his diocese the manifestations of the cult of saints."19 Yet, the bishop did not have the power to initiate a cult unless there was popular backing for a particular saint, but only the authority to "combat deviations" from Catholic doctrine.
One of the most widespread and enduring of the early cults throughout the Middle Ages is based on the martyrdom of St. Laurence, a deacon of Rome who was tortured to death during the persecution of Valerian in 258. St. Laurence is mentioned in the Depositio Martyrum, and his passio was a part of the Roman Legendary's Passion of Polychonius, compiled perhaps in the sixth century or earlier. St. Laurence was venerated throughout the Western Europe, and Bede writes that relics of Laurence were sent to King Oswiu of Northumbria in the seventh century.20 Although Laurence's historical existence is not doubted, the method of his martyrdom is certainly apocryphal and represents the conflation of Laurence's acta with those of another saint, Vincent of Saragossa. However, the passio of Laurence, with its emphasis on the trial before Valerian and Decius and on the death scene as the saint is roasted alive on a gridiron, is an excellent example of an early written acta martyrum. The passion concludes with Laurence confessing his faith in Christ as he dies. This moment defines the exemplum of the passio for those hearing the story of the martyr's death and the believers in turn express their assurance in the power of saint: "Let us pray to him that he will give us glory, in that place where he reigns in permanent joy, and let us suffer no peril or pain, or lose sovereign joy because of any act of which we might be guilty. Rather may he allow us, oh Jesus, to act in such a way that we can have comfort and the glory of paradise, in that place where you reign and live."21 The passio contains no post mortem miracles or other references to supernatural events that would detract from the emotional impact of the martyrdom.
As martyrdom in its original sense became less likely due to the political acceptance of Christianity within the Roman Empire, it soon came to be asked how a person should be reckoned a saint and what was the proper authority for making such a decision. The notion of "sanctity," which had originally been applied to those who gave their lives confessing their faith in Christ, gradually enlarged to include those who confessed their faith against the heretics and schismatics of the fourth and fifth centuries. In this age of confessors, "the term confessor was eventually applied to all those who deserved to be venerated by the faithful as a result of the pain they had suffered, or inflicted on themselves, for the love of Christ."22 Asceticism became equated with martyrdom, and Christian doctrine added the assurance that penitential ascetics suffered not only to bring themselves closer to heaven but also the expiate the sins of all. Although strict asceticism had always played a crucial role in Christianity, the monastic movements throughout the Mediterranean world in the fourth century institutionalized the role of self-denial. Fleeing the "vanity" of society, monks (from the Greek m o n a c o V , "he who lives alone") set out to found new lives in the Egyptian desert and other desolate places. The ascetic entered into a life devoted to penitential prayer and rigorous discipline in order to purify both body and soul. Seeking solitude from the affairs of the world, some ascetics chose to live as recluses in caves, while others formed eremitical communities designed to support solitude. Eventually, those persons who practiced this life of self-denial, known as "white" or bloodless martyrdom, began to be venerated "not so much for what they had accomplished for their own souls as for what they might do for the faithful."23 Several hagiographic writings about the Egyptian monks, such as the anonymous Lives of the Desert Fathers and Palladius's Lausiac History, were circulated in Palestine and Syria.24 Eventually these works were translated into Latin and spread the ascetic ideal into Gaul and Iberia, and finally into Britain and Ireland.
The earliest ascetic hagiographic model can be found in The Life of Antony of Egypt by Athanasius.25 Born in 251, Antony chose to renounce his wealthy inheritance at the age of 20 in order to live as an ascetic in complete solitude in a deserted fort at Pispir. After about 20 years, Antony left his solitude to form a monastery with the disciples who had gathered around him. He is described as living a life of simple austerity which emphasized the love of God before all earthly matters. Although Antony was buried in a secret place, in 561 his relics were found and translated to Alexandria. He was immensely popular in the Middle Ages and his vita was designed to teach monasticism and orthodoxy to others. The didactic nature of Antony's life is emphasized by Athanasiaus when he states, "Read these things now to the other brothers so that they may learn what the life of the monks ought to be….And if the need arises, read this to the pagans as well, so they may understand by this means that our Lord Jesus Christ is God."26 In the Life of Antony, the title of sanctus becomes associated with one who confessed or taught the Christian faith.
The ascetic ideal also found fertile ground in the early Celtic church in Ireland. With the coming of St. Patrick to Ireland in 432, Christianity took root without blood being shed for the Christian faith. As the earliest written models of sanctitiy for the Irish were the acta martyrum of the contentintal martyrs, the Irish were placed in a situation that required them to adapt the definition of "saint" to their own culture. In the fifth and early six centuries, a new form of asceticism emerged in the Celtic church and was termed "green martyrdom." Based on the model of the desert fathers of Egypt, "Green Martyrs were those who, leaving behind the comforts and pleasures of ordinary human society, retreated to the woods, or to the mountaintop, or to a lonely island—to one of the green no-man's-lands outside tribal jursidictions—there to study the scriptures and commune with God."27 Irish literature is filled with the stories of men such as Macanisius, a hermit at Kells and supposed disciple of St. Patrick, who lived in isolation and prayer.28 Another of St. Patrick's converts, St. Manchan of Offaly, is credited with writing a poem in Irish that describes the desire of the green martyrs:
Grant me sweet Christ the grace to find—
Son of the living God!—
A small hut in a lonesome spot
To make it my abode.
A little pool but very clear
To stand beside the place
Where all men's sins are washed away
By sanctifying grace.29The solitary ascetic could acquire over time disciples who would build small huts near the hermit. Scilg Mhichél (Skellig Michale), a barren rock eight miles out in the Atlantic off the coast of Co. Kerry, contains the remnants of "beehive-shaped cells, the chapel, and the tiny graveyard of the monks" who inhabited this "desert."30 As communities developed around the holy ascetic, his solitary retreat, his deserta, uaimh, spelunca or martyrium, often developed into a monastic center. The vita of St. Martin of Tours illustrates the evolution of the ascetic ideal beginning with the community in the caves of Ligugé and progressing finally to the establishment of the monastery at Tours. The same path of asceticism can also be traced in St. Kentigern's life. The thread of solitary penance continued to be present after the formation of monastic communities based on the Rule of St. Benedict. St. Cuthbert sought an even more remote location than Lindisfarne "to retire to the secrecy of solitude which he had so long coveted."31 Many of the Celtic vitae incorporate narratives of the saints that describe their periodic journeys to places of solitude, especially during the days of Lent, in order to practice a more strict form of asceticism. Chapter 17 of Kentigern's vita contains an exemplary account of the desire of these saintly men to withdraw from the world and "be concealed in the presence of God."
Some of these green martyrs choose to follow a path of voluntary exile in order to find a place of solitude. Leaving Ireland in small curraghs, these ascetics "allowed the winds and currents to bear them where they would."32 This emphasis on pilgrimage also included a strong desire to spread the gospel. According to Gildas, the Celtic missionaries believed that "to voyage over the seas, and to pace over broad tracts of land was not so much a weariness as a delight."33 The importance of making peregrinatio pro Dei amore was one of the defining characteristics of Celtic Christianity even into the ninth and tenth centuries as attested in the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle in the year 891:
And three Irishmen came to king Alfred in a boat without any oars (sine omni gubernatione humana) from Ireland, whence they had stolen away because they wished for the love of God to be on pilgrimage, they cared not where. The boat in which they set out was made of two and a half hides (in nauicula facta de duobus coriis et dimidio), and they had taken with them provisions for a week and after a week they came to land in Cornwall, and soon went to king Alfred.34
By this method of asceticism, exile, and journeying, Celtic monastic communities were founded at Iona, Lindisfarne, the Orkney, Shetland, and Faeroe Islands and Iceland, as well as communities on the Continent such as Anegray and Bobbio.
As Christianity spread throughout Western Europe, "sanctity was also ascribed to those who spread the gospel among the heathen or who governed the church with piety."35 The bishop-confessors were the focal points of cults that emphasized a sainthood not only grounded in the ascetic ideal, but also in the role of protector of the faithful. When the Roman empire began to crumble, local bishops were endowed with an increased sanctity as "the supreme defensores civitatis between the fifth and the eighth centuries."36 This perception of bishops can be viewed as an extension of secular patronage. With the old forms of civil ties disintegrating under the rise of the Merovingian kingdoms, the bishop inhabited the role of protector against "a monarchy inclined to abuse its strength and impose excessive taxes on its new subjects."37 As defenders of the faithful, the saints were wrappped in the mantle of a soldier and contextualized as warriors of God. Hagiographers looked for military tropes in which to imbue their subjects and new hagiographic characteristics appeared in the vitae. The Life of Saint Martin by Sulpicius Severus became one such model for hagiographers to imitate.38 St. Martin was born about 336 and as a youth, he "served in the soldiery that uses earthly weapons, in the cavalry of the Imperial Guard under the Emperor Constantius, and afterward under the Caesar Julian."39 Even at this time, Martin practiced such an ascetic lifestyle that "he was regarded as a monk rather than as a soldier."40 Eventually Martin renounces his military career with an impassioned oath to Julian: "I have been your soldier up to now. Let me now be God's. Let someone who is going to fight have your bonus. I am Christ's soldier."41 Sulpicius consciously blends the ideal of the ascetic with the ethos of the soldier to construct Martin as a warrior in divine service. As this model of sanctity gained in popularity, these ascetic saints were perceived as serving as noble members of a divine court in the guise of milites Christi, "the soldiers of Christ." Such warriors are depicted in hagiography as heroes fighting against the enemies of God in this world by confessing the doctrine of Christianity, and the hagiographer would draw on both scripture and secular heroic ideals in formulating the representation of the perfect holy soldier. As seen in the later eighth century Anglo-Saxon Life of St. Guthlac, the depiction of the secular hero as one who is soðfæste ("steadfast in truth") is recontextualized by hagiographers to apply to the soldier of God. Even as the heroic warrior, such as a Beowulf or a Byrhtwold, stands firm in battle and receives the glory of eternal fame, so also the miles Christi is presented with an everlasting reward: "Thus the souls of those steadfast in truth will be able to ascend into an everlasting abode in the kingdom of the skies, those who here carry through in words and in works the abiding precepts of the King of glory, and in their lifetime earn on earth eternal life and a home in the heights. These are men of the sacrament, the chosen warriors dear to Christ."42 In appropriating the secular heroic epic as a foundation for the vitae, hagiographers were able to provide a moral exemplum for their audiences that was familiar and acceptable to the warrior ethos of societies who culted these saints.
The interweaving of earthly and heavenly topoi is prevalent in the vita of St. Germanus of Auxerre. This life, written sometime between 475 and 480 by Constantius of Lyon, continues to tradition of the miles Christi begun by Sulpicius, and the narrative acts as a bridge between Continental and British saints' lives. As with the life of St. Martin, Germanus is portrayed as a wonder-working bishop. However, unlike Martin, Germanus came from the Gallic aristocracy, a characteristic that will be emphasized in both Celtic and Anglo-Saxon hagiography. Constantius writes that Germanus received a liberal education in both Gaul and Rome, and "when he was at the height of his reputation in the legal profession, the state promoted him to official rank by conferring on him the supreme office of dux and the rule over more than one province."43 Germanus is raised to the office of bishop by "all the clergy, the whole nobility, the townsfolk and the countryfolk," and surrenders his place in "the earthly militia to be enrolled in the heavenly."44 However, Germanus' military expertise is highlighted by Constantius when the bishop raises an army in Britain to fight against the Saxons and the Picts:
By now the savage host of the enemy was close at hand and Germanus rapidly circulated an order that all should repeat in unison the call he would give as a battle-cry. Then, while the enemy were still secure in the belief that their approach was unexpected, the bishops three times chanted the Alleluia. All, as one man, repeated it and the shout they raised rang through the air and was repeated many times in the confined space between the mountains.
The enemy were panic-stricken, thinking that the surrounding rocks and the very sky itself were falling on them. Such was their terror that no effort of their feet seemed enough to save them. They fled in every direction, throwing away their weapons and thankful if they could save at least their skins. Many threw themselves into the river which they had just crossed at their ease, and were drowned in it.
Thus the British army looked on at its revenge without striking a blow, idle spectators of the victory achieved. The booty strewn everywhere was collected; the pious soldiery obtained the spoils of a victory from heaven. The bishops were elated at the rout of the enemy without bloodshed and a victory gained by faith and not by force.45
Germanus' martial exploits are also emphasized by Constantius when the bishop refutes the heresy of Pelagius in Britain.46 The model of the ascetic miles Christi became the accepted hagiographic ideal as evidenced by the multitude of later saints' lives that follow the construct of sanctity outlined by Athanasius, Sulpicius, and Constantius.47 Jocelyn draws on the portrait of the holy warrior in his description of Kentigern in Chapter 19. Using both scriptural and secular traditions, Jocelyn draws a vivid picture of Kentigern armed as a soldier of Christ in battle against Satan, "the prince of this world."
The power of the saints stemmed originally from the Roman concept of patronage. As a divine patron, the saint could intercede on behalf of his or her followers to win favor for them in the heavenly court of God. The saint also had the power to distribute gifts, especially healing, as a form of patronage, and the texts of the vitae are filled with accounts of the largesse of the saint. St. Martin raises a catechumen from the dead. St. Germanus gives sight to a blind child. Twelve poor beggers have their thirst quenched in the vita of St. Willibrord by a wine flask that never runs dry. Kentigern provides grain from sand for his monastic community. Water miracuously bubbles out of a rock where St. Columba prayed. Both the holy actions of a saint's life and the miracles performed by that saint posthumously are described by the Latin virtus, "virtue" or "power," although after a saint died, his or her power was seen to be even greater than when the saint physically was present on earth. Since the saints were the defenders of the faithful, "they continued to do so after death, assisting [the faithful], when the time came, to obtain celestial citizenship. So a link was established between the towns of the West and certain saintly prelates, which soon acquired a collective and permanent dimension."48 In a very real sense, a unity existed in the West between the living and the dead. The commemoration of names in liturgy, the preservation of the acts of the saints in martyrologies, and the recollection of the past deeds of saints at their tombs all allowed the dead to live on in society. As Oexle has pointed out, "The pronunciation of the name of the dead was more than simply recollection: it was the means by which the dead were made present."49 The power possessed by the hermits and confessors after death was seen by followers of their cults as a direct result of the ascetic manner in which they had lived. In Jocelyn's Life of Saint Kentigern, however, this crucial narrative of post mortem miracles is missing. Instead, Jocelyn chooses to repeat a tale in which the prophet Myrddin, the wild man of Celtic literature, is prominent. This divergence from the usual model will be discussed later in Section Five of the thesis as the implications of this rhetorical strategy pertain more to Jocelyn's possible motivations for using certain oral traditions in his construction of Kentigern.
Saints occupied a place in heaven, but their followers also perceived them as present in the shrine of the cult where their relics were displayed. These bodies of saints and their relics, that is either actual portions of their bodies or objects that had been in close contact with them became, in the West, the central focus of religious devotion.50 The eighth century Libri Carolini, a polemical treatise composed as a refutation of the Eastern Church's use of icons, asserts that veneration was to be reserved for relics alone: "They [the Greeks] place almost all the hope of their credulity in images, but it remains firm that we venerate the saints in their bodies or better in their relics, or even in their clothing, in the ancient traditon of the Fathers."51 As Christianity moved into northern Europe, there was a corresponding transformation of sacred places. Since the spread of Christianity had been accomplished with little shedding of blood on the side of the missionaries, Christian areas in northern Europe did not have access to the centers of sanctity which abounded in the old Roman towns of Gaul, Spain, and Italy. Whereas the Roman cemetaries contained martyrs and holy persons, which assured these places the title of sacred ground, the sacred sites of northern Europe were sacred only in pagan tradition. Beginning in the eighth century, relics began to be divided up and moved in order to accommodate the need for newly consecrated churches to lay claim to the power and prestige of the saints. The major implication of this movement was that "sacred places could now be created by the transfer of holy men of the past to new sites with which they had never before been associated, in life or in death."52 It should also be noted that the distribution of relics was an essential key to ecclesiastical control over the "chosen image of sanctity and [the episcopate's] ideal of the relationship between the sacred and the profane."53
The tomb and its relic was "a locus where earth and heaven met in the person of the dead, made plain by some manifestation of supernatural power—some virtus—of some miraculum, some wonderful happening."54 The inscription on the tomb of Saint Martin of Tours reads, "Here is Bishop Martin of sacred memory, whose soul is in the hand of God. But he is completely present here, made manifest to everyone by the goodwill of his miracles."55 But while the patron saints would provide miracles and wonders to those who prayed to them, it was up to their followers to grant to the saints reverence and festivals, gifts and feasts. The services of the living for the saints took two primary forms: liturgical and veneration. Each cultus would commemorate its saint with an annual feast on the day of the saint's death. This service would include "prayers, readings taken from the life of the saint, and sometimes processions in which the bodies of the saints were carried around the church that sheltered their remains."56 Jocelyn makes clear the importance of giving proper veneration to the saints of their feast days when he recounts in Chapter 44 that "many have felt in themselves very frequently the vengeance of their sin when they presumed to scorn with any servile labor [Kentigern's] day of festival." The veneration of a saint's relics was especially important as these provided the physical link between the spiritual and the material worlds. Relics of the saints, which included any physical objects associated with a saint no matter how small or insignificant, were incorporated into the formal worship early in the history of the church, and "it was a requirement…reiterated by the Seventh General Council of Nicaea in 787 that every consecrated church should have a relic placed in its altar."57 However, the veneration shown to the saints, especially in those areas newly converted to Christianity in the eighth and ninth centuries, suggests that popular piety tended to take the form of pagan practices. St. Boniface tried to stem the pre-Christian practices associated with the cult of the saints and decreed in 742 that "in accordance with the canons each bishop should take care…that the people of God should not do pagan things but should abandon and repudiate all the filthy practices of the gentiles, be it sacrifices to the dead or divination or immolation of sacrificial animals, things which ignorant people do in the pagan way next to churches in the name of the holy martyrs or confessors."58 In order to deal with the exploitation of popular piety and improper cult practices, episcopal authority was used to standardize, regulate, and promote the cult of the saints to the advantage of the Roman Church.
One form of standardization included the initiation of written translationes, texts that described the translation of relics from one place to another. Sometimes these texts contain elaborate explanations as to how "saints who had lived and died in distant areas had come to rest in local churches."59 The translation of some saints was attributed to supernatural intervention on the part of the saint, as when a saint had miraculously made manifest his or her intention of being transferred to a new location, often because of insufficient veneration in the place of original interment. This is the case in the translation accounts of Mary Magdalene and St. Benedict at Fleury. The translation narrative of St. Boniface by Willibald is typical of such writings in the eighth and ninth centuries. After vividly describing the martyrdom of Boniface and his companions at the hands of a pagan mob, Willibald explains how the relics of Boniface came to the city of Mainz:
The bodies of the holy bishop [Boniface] and of the other martyrs were brought by boat across the water called Aelmere, an uneventful voyage of some days, to the above-mentioned city that is called Utrecht. There the bodies were deposited and interred until some religious and trustworthy men of God arrived from Mainz. From there they had been sent in a ship by Bishop Lull, the successor of our holy bishop and martyr, to bring the body of the saint to the monastery built by him during his lifetime on the banks of the river Fulda…
The venerable and holy company came to the above-mentioned city [Utrecht] and was met by a small throng of people. But the count of the city declared in the hearing of all that an edict had been issued by King Pepin forbidding anyone to remove the body of Bishop Boniface from that place. As, however, the power of Almighty God is greater than the strength of men, suddenly in their presence a marvelous miracle took place, wrought through angelic rather than human intervention. The bell of the church, untouched by human hands, began to ring, as if the body of the saint was issuing a warning; and every person present, smitten by a sudden feeling of awe, was struck with terror and cried out that the body of this holy man should be given up. The body, consequently, was handed over at once and was taken away in great honor by the brethren already mentioned. And so, to the accompaniment of psalms, and hymns, without having to row against the current of the stream, the body was brought, thirty days after the saint's decease, to the city of Mainz.60
The accounts of the translations of relics fulfilled an important justification of the motives of those who were transferring the saints to new resting places. As seen in the text of St. Boniface, it was not unusual for there to be a rivalry between persons and religious communities over the possession of relics. Local communities were unwilling to have their "protector" removed, and communities where relics were translated wondered how powerful such a saint could be who allowed himself to be translated. Issues of prestige and economy also played their part in the tension between communities. The translation narratives can be seen as a further elaboration of the hagiographic material that was accreted to the vitae of saints in an effort to provide a supernatural impetus to the mobility of relics. Jocelyn, however, again diverges from the usual hagiographic model and does not provide a narrative of the translation of Kentigern's body. Instead, Jocelyn states in his preface that he could not discover an account of the translation. The reason behind such a statement possibly stems from Jocelyn's unwillingness to include "fables" in his narrative, since such tales detracted from his representation of Kentigern as the ideal warrior saint. As with the absence of post mortem miracles, the untold account of Kentigern's translation raises many questions as to Jocelyn's editorial practices in composing this vita.
As the cult of the saints grew, the need for extolling the virtues of the saints also expanded. But whereas the passio of the martyr provided the impetus for the early saints, the bishop-confessor required a more complete life in order to be given the services reserved for those declared sanctus. Hagiographers began to focus the narrative of the saints' lives on the piety and humility exhibited by Christ during his life. Poverty, healings, and the overcoming of earthly temptations were emphasized as the visible signs of the saintly life. It is important to note that the majority of the confessor saints began as local cults and their legends arose from local, usually oral, traditions. The localized strands of narrative would be woven into the text of an "official" biography, and this reliance on oral tradition may account for the many derivations among later saints' vitae. The text of a saint's life "provides a documentary witness to the process of sanctification for the community and in so doing becomes itself a part of the sacred tradition it served to document."61 The hagiographer had to rely on the ethos of the saint's life in order for the text to gain new converts to the cult. Yet, the author of a vita also had to conform to the standards instituted by the local community even as he acted to "terminate unsanctioned oral tradition and coalesce the myth-making powers of the community around [the text's] paradigms."62 The tension between the local legends and ecclesiastical doctrine provides the basic material for understanding the cultures that produced these written sacred lives. The Life of Saint Kentigern is one such text that provides important insights into the development of a saint's cult in early Scotland as well as clues to the society in which the legends of this saint circulated.
The Historical Context of Kentigern, Apostle to Strathclyde
The history of the kingdom of Strathclyde, from the withdrawal of the Roman legions until its eventual annexation into the medieval kingdom of Scotland in the eleventh century, is filled with obscure references, unknown names, and little documentation in the way of written sources. Exactly when this kingdom was formed is still open to debate, although Alfred Smyth makes a good case for placing the origins of the Strathclyde kingdom as early as the 380s "as part of a gradual recovery and expansion of Brigantian tribalism which persisted right through the Roman period in the remoter parts of Cumbria and the Pennine chain."63 There was a cultural and linguistic unity that extended over the whole of southern Scotland and western England in the fifth and sixth centuries. As Nora Chadwick has noted, "A traveller could have set off from Edinburgh, and walked through Cumberland, and along the Welsh Border to Land's End, and he would have had no difficulty in making himself understood all the way."64 However, there is no extant written literature of these northern societies stemming from their place of origin. Instead, the information possessed today on the northern British kingdoms was preserved in Welsh literature. The heroic tradition of these "Men of the North" 65 has been preserved in the poetry of the sixth century bardsTaliesin and Aneirin as panegyrics or elegiaces. Aneirin celebrated the heroes of Caer Eidyn (modern Edinburgh) and its ruler Mynyddawg Mwynfawr. Taliesin was bard to Urien of Rheged, probably the most famous of the "Men of the North," and to his son Owain. This poetic tradition offers a glimpse into the society that flourished in the southwestern part of Scotland in what has been historically called "Dark Age" Scotland.66
Late sixth century Strathclyde, the locus for Jocelyn's Life of Saint Kentigern, was a kingdom under seige. When the Roman legions departed, the British were faced with defending a territory that stretched from Scotland to Cornwall. The Antonnine Wall, built about A.D. 142 and stretching from the Firth of Forth to the Firth of Clyde, was protected at either end by two British families that figure prominently in the Welsh literature. The western fortress of Dumbarton, "The Dún or citadel of the Britons," was the residence of a dynasty that lasted for centuries and occupied both Strathclyde and Galloway. The eastern end of the wall was guarded by a native British hill-fort known as Dumpelder. Both fortresses will be important landmarks in Kentigern's vita. Sometime early in the sixth century, the Anglo-Saxons penetrated into the British territory of northern England and southern Scotland. According to Bede, the traditional date for the foundation of the Anglo-Saxon kingdom of Bernicia is 547, and its stronghold on the rock of Bamburgh threatened the territory of the British kingdom of Gododdin. After the Angles had defeated the Celtic kingdom of Gododdin at Catterick about 600, there was a relentless Anglo-Saxon push into lower Scotland. It would not be until 685 that "the Strathclyde Britons, through Bridei mac Bili, successfully rallied the Picts and perhaps also the shattered warband of Gododdin into finally halting the Anglo-Saxon advance into northern Britain" at the battle of Dunnichen Moss.67 To the north of Strathclyde, the kingdom of Dál Riata continued to expand its influence until 642, when Owen, king of Strathclyde, slew Domnall Brecc, king of Scots Dál Riata at the battle of Strathcarron.68 Kentigern's ministry, spanning the late six and early seventh centuries and stretching from Edinburgh to Culross to south Wales and finally to Glasgow and Dumbarton, takes place against the backdrop of the northern British kingdoms fighting to retain their borders against enemies on all sides.
The society of Strathclyde at this time can be described as "heroic," and was based upon an aristocratic warrior culture for which "the accepted morality is courage and fierceness in war, generosity and liberality in peace, a longing for fame, a horror of disgrace, and a welcome for death in a fight provided it leads to an immortal glory."69 The extant poetry tells little of the political organization or affairs of the British kingdoms, but the poems have much to say concerning the individual deeds of heroes, "whose prowesss in battle and loyalty to their leaders, or generosity to their followers, has made them worthy of the praise of the bards."70 These heroic characteristics are seen in a passage from The Gododdin which describes a hero, "steady in guarding the ford, [who] was glad when he bore off the honored portion in the palace."71 Jackson believes this passage reflects a custom similar to "that of the early Irish cuadmír whereby the best and most famous warrior present was allotted the best portion of meat served at the feast."72 Similar heroic descriptions are found in Anglo-Saxon and Irish literature. The feasting associated with Aneiren's presentation of Mynyddog and his warriors parallels the celebration at Heorot in Beowulf and "Bricriu's Feast" from the Ulster Cycle. The primary activities of the warriors consisted of defending their chief in battle, and their memory would be disgraced if the chief were killed and they did not die fighting to save him. In return for this military service, the lord supplied them with board and lodging, weapons, presents, and feasts.73 The lord, or tiern, achieved his prestige by prowess on the battlefield. But when the lord "ceased to be what Taliesin called a "distributor," as soon as he proved incapable of leading his warrriors to victory, some bolder or more self-important rival would appear to take his place."74 Immortality for a warrior was achieved by having his name elegized for his courage by the bards after his death. With the coming of Christianity, these heroic characteristics would find their way into the descriptions of the early saints as the ideal warrior was transformed from a secular to a sacred person. The discussion of Celtic saints in Section Five expands on this transformation of the hero into the saint.
The Welsh triads catalog the exploits of the northern chiefs and provide genealogies that link the British and Welsh dynasties of the sixth century. A poetic connection between Strathclyde and Wales has been effectively proven in tracing the dissemination of the story of the Battle of Catterick from Edinburgh to Rheged. There is evidence that the legends of the "Men of the North" were retained in Strathclyde, either at the political capital of Dumbarton or at the ecclesiastical center of Glasgow, before finding their final home in northern Wales. Such heroic traditions would have been welcome additions to the repertoire of the bards and scribes, especially if there were lines of kinship between Lothian, Strathclyde, and the Welsh kingdoms. Many of the Welsh saints claim a North British ancestry that dates to the fifth century when Cunedda of Gododdin and his sons came to Wales to drive out the Irish.75 The people of this area spoke a Brittonic, or early Welsh, language, and maintained contacts with the Celtic kingdoms in Wales and with Ireland.76 This interaction between the Celtic peoples of Strathclyde and Wales will play an important role in analyzing the Celtic traditions imbedded in Jocelyn's Life of Saint Kentigern, and the effect of that material upon Jocelyn's audience.
Very little written material relating to the British church has survived from the sixth and seventh centuries, leaving later scholars with only fleeting glimpses of this period in the surviving literature of the Irish and Welsh annals. The archaeological evidence concerning the early British church is also meagre, and only hint to the existence of Christians in Scotland before the fifth century.77 Undoubtedly the Celtic peoples had been converted to Christianity as citizens of the Roman Empire. St. Patrick, a native of either Strathclyde or Solway, was the son of a deacon and the grandson of a priest. However, the majority of the rural population continued to practice paganism, and sanctuaries dedicated to Celtic gods, such as Nodens, date from the last years of the Empire. Even a few Druidic sanctuaries were restored during this time,78 while British Christians were building a church in honor of the British martyr St. Alban at Verulamium. Using the writings of Bede and Saint Patrick's letter to Coroticus as reference points, a tentative conclusion can be reached that there were Christian communities at Whithorn and Dumbarton, and perhaps a few other places in southwestern Scotland by the middle of the fifth century.79 According to Bede, St. Columba went "to preach the word of God" to the Picts north of the Antonine Wall:
…for the southern Picts, who dwell on this side of those mountains, had long before, as is reported, forsaken the errors of idolatry, and embraced the truth, by the preaching of Ninias, a most reverend bishop and holy man of the British nation, who had been regularly instructed at Rome, in the faith and mysteries of the truth; whose episcopal see, named after St. Martin the bishop, and famous for a stately church (wherein he and many other saints rest in the body), is still in existence among the English nation. The place belongs to the province of the Bernicians, and is generally called the White House, because he there built a church of stone, which was not usual among the Britons.80
The community formed by Ninian at Whithorn in Galloway probably continued in some form until the revival of the bishopric in the eighth century after the Northumbrian conquest. But this sixth century outpost of Christianity and other such communities were not a part of a centralized Celtic church, nor is there any evidence of a single Celtic Christian doctrine practiced by all the people within Celtic areas. By the mid-sixth century, these Christian conclaves would have been cut off from the developments on the European continent due to the continuing, albeit sporadic, incursions of Picts, Scots, and Angles into the formerly Celtic areas of Britain since the middle of the fifth century and the disruptions of society that such raids caused. It is possible to infer that the isolation of the Christians in this area led to their instituting rites and doctrines that were contrary to the peculiar beliefs and practices of the Roman Church.
However, the question of the validity of an organized Celtic Church has been much debated. Bede's Historia Ecclesiastica is often cited as evidence for the existience of a unified Celtic church directed by a hierarchy of bishops before the coming of Augustine to England. Bede writes that there were insurmountable differences between the traditions of the British church and the Roman doctrine brought to Anglo-Saxon England by St. Augustine in the late sixth century. These disputes between the two systems of Christianity included the date of the observance of Easter, the clerical tonsure, and certain generalized observations in ritual and doctrine.81 The ecclesiastical hierarchy of the Celtic church also differed from that of the Roman Church. Rome divided its episcopal dioceses based closely on the administrative divisions of the Empire with the bishop having authority over the members of his see. The British hierarchy was centered around a system of abbot-bishops with the church administration placed within a monastic framework, but even abbots who were not bishops exercisized authority over all other members of the monastic community. In this situation, the bishop functioned only in spiritual matters. On the other hand, there were also bishops who did not live in monasteries and they "evidently acted as spiritual helpers to Christians whom they served as counsellors and whom they led in worship."82 These bishops were under the jurisdiction of no authority, and they freely travelled throughout all the Celtic areas.
St. Patrick consecrated the first bishops in Ireland, and these clergy passed on their authority through a simple rite of ordination. "When a layman or a deacon who showed potential abilities was considered to be a suitable candidate for the position of presbyter or bishop, he was consecreated immediately."83 No record of the ritual of ordination had survived, although Gildas did describe the readings of Scripture used during ordination in his time. It was also the Celtic custom to anoint the hands of deacons and priests at the time of their ordination into religious orders.84 F. E. Warren states that the "anointing of the hands at the ordination of deacons is not found in any form of the Roman Ordinal, ancient or modern, nor in any Gallican Ordinal."85 According to Hardinge, the baptism by Celtic bishops was considered invalid by the Roman Church, probably due to the customary ritual of ordaining Celtic bishops with only one other bishop in attendance.86 Jocelyn acknowledges the unorthodoxy associated with the ordination of Celtic bishops in Chapter 11 of Kentigern's vita. However, Jocelyn seems to have been thinking of the manner of Kentigern's anointing when he states, "Yet although the consecration to which the Britons were accustomed seems less than harmonious with the sacred canons, nevertheless it is established that it does not lose the power and effect of the divine mystery or the ecclesiastical office."87
The differences in ritual and doctrine between the two systems of Christianity do not address the question of whether there was an organized Celtic Church flourishing in some parts of Scotland in the latter part of the sixth century. By examining the descriptions provided by Jocelyn in the writing of Kentigern's life, it can be argued that there was no Celtic institution with a unified system of beliefs and practices operating in Strathclyde, although some outposts of Christianity remained active. Since there was no central control over these Christian conclaves, each community would develop their own views on Christian life, and "eclecticism and pragmatism would mark the early beliefs and practices of Celtic Christians. As teachers developed, they interpreted the scriptures as they felt best."88 This pragmatism can be found in the descriptions of Kentigern's ordination and the emphasis in the narrative on those who "had gone astray from the whole faith by some erratic doctrine of a heretical sect."89 These episodes imply that some type of Christianity continued to function in Strathclyde up to the arrival of Kentigern in the late sixth century, but the lack of exchange with Rome had brought about local derivations in doctrine and ritual observances. Instead, as Kentigern's ordination as bishop suggests, the "church" in Strathclyde looked westward to Ireland and followed the example of the Celtic Church in name if not always in form.
The "heresy" which Kentigern is described as fighting against is not named in his vita although a good candidate would probably be Pelagianism. Pelagius was a British monk who taught in Rome in the late fourth and early fifth centuries. He was accused of believing that humans could achieve good deeds and right actions with the aid of their rational minds. Pelagius' theory of "Free Will, his denial of the value of grace and his rejection of the concept of original sin" were bound to appeal to the independent nature of the Celtic peoples. In Possidius' Life of Saint Augustine, the heretical Pelagians are described as "plausible debaters, still more subtle and pernicious writers, and untiring talkers in public and in the homes of the people."90 Pelagianism seems to have taken root firmly in Britain as the following episode from Saint Germanus' life makes clear:
About this time (429) a deputation from Britain came to tell the bishops of Gaul that the heresy of Pelagius had taken hold of the people over a great part of the country and help ought to be brought to the Catholic faith as soon as possible.91
Saint Germanus is sent to Britain and refutes the preachers of the heresy. Although the author of this vita confidently relates that "this damnable heresy had been thus stamped out of Britain,"92 the continued references to "heresy" and "heretical doctrine" in the Life of Saint Kentigern imply that Pelagianism maintained a continued presence in Britain.93
The sixth century world of St. Kentigern would have changed little from the time of the withdrawl of the Roman Legions. Social rank was measured by skill in warfare, and even though "every member of the tribe had a say in the choice of leader,…in practice only the warriors exercised this right."94 There were very few settled areas, and most communities gathered in hilltop fortifications during times of war. The ramparts of these hill forts took different forms. They could be constructed of earth and stone banks or in areas were stone was plentiful, rock could be piled up to form the defences. According to Chadwick, "The most interesting of the earlier defensive structures of Scotland are the tower-like brochs; but these are essentially of the Iron Age or Roman periods, and only known to have been occasionally used later."95 Markale also describes the system of fortification known as vitrification that was used in the sixth century although it dates back to the end of Bronze Age (c. 800 B.C.):
The core of the rampart was made of a hard, compact mass of stone which was heated until it looked like thick, rough glass. Obviously the heating process took place in situ. The builders must have piled up the stone and sand with wood and then set light to it. As archaeologists have pointed out, the process presented great technical difficulties, but the result was an impregnable wall. The process of vitrification presumably gave rise to the names Urbs Vitrea, Kaer Gutrin and the Royaume de Gorre, or all those cities of glass mentioned in the Arthurian romances and in the Celtic tradition generally.96
There were also simpler fortifications known as "ring forts," but these fortifications are typically found north of the Antonine Wall. Eventually some of the hill forts became permanent settlements and places of assembly. As few remains of buildings from this era have been discovered, the note by Jocelyn that buildings were constructed of wood would seem to be confirmed.
Plowing with oxen provided the main basis for agriculture, although the labor required to clear the land for planting would have necessitated the working together of several laborers, which implies some type of community organization.97 Ownership of land rested with the tribe, and "the boundaries of communal land remained ill-defined, since its extent would depend on the ability of the tribe to maintain it."98 The story of the field plowed by stags in Chapter 20 of Jocelyn's Life may possibly allude to at least a two-field rotation of crops. The main agricultural staple was wheat, with references being made to milk and cheese in the narrative of Kentigern's vita. This description follows the historical evidence for the homestead of the lower classes, which "consists of two circular stone huts within an oval walled enclosure, whose occupants grew grain on a terrace at a lower level, and kept cattle on higher ground hard by."99 The men of power whom Kentigern interacts with throughout his life follow the pattern of warchiefs laid out in the poetry of Taliesin and Aneirin, especially in the descriptions of the feasts of such men. Lastly, although the ritual described in Chapter 33 relating to King Rederech giving "homage" to Saint Kentigern is obviously late, and Jocelyn may very well have been drawing on his own personal knowledge in narrating this event, the expression that the prince of Cumbria was subject to the bishop "as long as the Cambrian kingdom endured in its own rank" must incorporate some memory that is much older than the rite itself. Since the kingdom of Strathclyde did not unite with Scotland until1018, this passage "has the air of representing some fact, whatever it really means, which was remembered in Glasgow after [the kingdom of Strathclyde] ceased to exist."100
The importance of the Life of Saint Kentigern resides in the text as an artifact of the beliefs of the society at the time of the writing of the vita. However, literacy in sixth century Strathclyde, to judge by the number of extant texts, was non-existent. Traditions, whether they be secular or sacred, were passed on in an oral context. Yet there remains a deep suspicion of oral tradition by those societies that rely on the written word. This attitude of dismissing or trivializing orality can be seen in Gregory the Great's statement, "Quod loquimur transit, quod scribimus permanet."101 As regards the oral tradition, "what matters above all to the people to whom this tradition belongs is their belief in, their conviction of, the authenticity of their traditon and its transmission."102 For the medieval hagiographer, the beliefs of his audience, who were grounded in their own oral narratives of a saint, had to be given some measure of acknowledgment. On the other hand, the Church increasingly used written texts as a means to establish norms for a Christian way of life. And inevitably the Latin historical sources, in which the majority of informaton concerning medieval orality resides, reflect a clash between secular customary lifestyles and Christian demands. In actuality the ethics of the two systems "should have been irreconcilable, given that the oral tradition was concerned primarily with life here and now and its cosmic views were at odds with those of Christianity."103 However, the large volume of medieval Celtic literature, most of which stems from Ireland although there is a sizeable quantity representing Wales, is indirect evidence that the inhabitants of these areas continued to enjoy being entertained with stories of the heroic past. In one manuscript of the Irish epic the Táin Bó Cúalnge (The Cattle-Raid of Cooley), there are found two colophons.
The one in Irish reads: "Bendacht ar cech óen mebraigfes go hindraic Táin amlaid seo ná tuillfe cruth aile furri." (A blessing on every one who shall faithfully memorize the Táin as it is written here and shall not add any other form to it.) This is followed by one in Latin: "Sed ego qui scripsi anc historiam aut verius fabulam quibusdam fidem in hac historia aut fabula non accommodo. Quaedam similia vero, quaedam non, quaedam ad delectationem stultorum." (But I who have written this history, or rather this fable, give no credence to the various incidents related in it. For some things in it are the deceptions of demons, others poetic figments; some are probable, others improbable; while still others are intended for the delectation of foolish men.)104
The two colophons illustrate the tension between oral traditions and Christian doctrine found in medieval texts. However, instead of insisting, as Kathleen Hughes suggests, that "the Christian church had embraced all that was congenial in heroic society, its honour and generosity, its plendour and display, its enthusiasm, its respect for learning,"105 or only emphasizing the traditional oral materials that influenced the Celtic church, it would be more valuable to see the two systems of oral and written culture as existing side by side with some overlap but without one being subsumed into the other. This view of oral and written traditions as viable competitors is prominent within Jocelyn's text as he negotiates between his vision of Kentigern as the ideal Roman saint and the beliefs of his audience which contradicted his hagiographic aesthetics.
It is also necessary to stress that texts of traditional materials are not oral tradition in written form, but involve the environment in which the oral material is performed and passed along. Whereas in written literature the text is fixed, "in oral culture there is not, as a rule, a fixed verbal text but instead, and characteristically, potentially infinite variety within the subject area."106 This understanding of the use of oral traditions within hagiography highlights the role of the hagiographer as editor. The ability of the writer to choose a particular oral text from an assortment of competing tales allows for inferences to be made concerning the political and social context of the saint's life. By examining questions of audience, literacy, and orality, a literary historian is able to piece together the motivations of the author in writing hagiographic literature as well as the reception of that text by the intended audience.
St. Kentigern, Apostle of Strathclyde: A Summary
St. Kentigern is the traditional patron saint of Glasgow Cathedral, and there is little doubt that he was the patron saint of Strathclyde in the late sixth century. There is much circumstantial tradition attached to this saint, but little historical information is known about him. Kentigern's death is attested in the Annales Cambriae for AD 612, but that is the only early information that can be claimed for him with any certainty. Two vita of Kentigern are extant. The first was written by an anonymous author at the request of Herbert, Bishop of Glasgow (1147-64). This is a fragmentary Latin life written in Strathclyde and reflects its Cumbrian context at a time when Brittonic traditions were still strong. The second life was composed by Jocelyn, a monk of Furness Abbey in Lancashire, and authorized by his namesake, Bishop Jocelyn of Glasgow (1175-99). The most likely date for the writing of this life is sometime about 1180 and exhibits the accretion of Gaelic materials. In addition to these two vitae, there exists an office of the saint in a breviary (referred to as the Sprouston Breviary) of the late thirteenth century and the Breviary of Aberdeen, which is dated at the beginning of the sixteenth century.
The first life consists of only a prologue and eight chapters that narrate up to the birth of Kentigern. He is named as the son of Thaneu, daughter of the Lothian king Leudonus, and Owen, who was the son of Urien. When Thaneu refused to marry, her father gives her to a swineherd. Since the swineherd is Christian, he respects Thaneu's vow of virginity, but Owen uses the trick of dressing in women's clothes to get near to Thaneu and seduce her. Her father discovers Thaneu is pregnant and order her thrown
from the top of the hill called Dumpelder. She is unhurt, however, and next she is placed in a curragh without sails or oars on the Firth of Forth. Finally she arrives on the northern bank at Culross, where she gives birth to her son. Thaneu and Kentigern are adopted by St. Servanus (St. Serf), and Kentigern is declared to be Servanus' successor. At this point the fragmentary life breaks off.
The rest of Kentigern's life is told by Jocelyn, who for the most part suppresses all the earlier material concerning Kentigern's birth, opting instead to digress into a long sermon on the ignorance of those who listen to fables. Jocelyn describes Kentigern's extraordinary ability in "the discipline of letters" (Chapter 4) and then devotes the next three chapters to recounting Kentigern's power over death (bringing back to life a little bird and a cook) and the elements (a tree branch miraculously becoming a flaming torch).
Due to the envy of his fellow students, Kentigern leaves Culross and his teacher St. Servanus and miraculously parts the waters of the Forth (Chapter 8). Kentigern and St. Ninian are connected in chapter 9, when Kentigern buries a "just and devout man" in a cemetery consecrated by Ninian near Glasgow. Chapter 9 is an exemplum for the rewards for goodness and pride personified in the story of two brothers. Kentigern is consecrated bishop and begins his missionary work (Chapter 11), and this event is followed by several chapters that relate Kentigern's manner of preaching and his clothing. Chapter 17 is especially descriptive of the ascetic life led by Kentigern even after becoming a bishop. The miracle of plowing the land with a stag is narrated in chapter 20, which is followed by a second miracle in which the wheat storehouses of King Morken, described in the vita as an usurper and nominal Christian, float down the river Clyde to Kentigern's monastic community in answer to Kentigern's prayer. Chapter 22 relates how Morken kicked Kentigern and was punished with death resulting from a "tumor" in his feet.
However, Kentigern is forced into exile because of the "kindred of Morken" (Chapter 23). He seeks refuge in Wales and visits with St. David. King Cathwallon gives Kentigern a site for his monastery. Following a white boar (Chapter 24), Kentigern finds a suitable place for his community, which he calls Nantcharvan. A "heathen chieftain" named Melconde [Mealgwn], is struck with blindness for trying to force Kentigern off the land, but he is healed through the intercession of the saint. A young novice named Asaph brings live coals in his garment to the saint in chapter 25, and his clothes are not burned. Jocelyn uses this story to further emphasize the purity of Kentigern and his disciple Asaph. Kentigern sees St. Dewi's death and entrance into heaven in a vision and prophesizes the future troubles of Britain in chapter 26. During this time of exile in Wales, Kentigern is said to have visited Rome seven times in order to reaffirm his ordination as bishop in the presence of Gregory the Great and to seek advice on Christian doctrine (Chapter 27).
In time, Rederech, who had been baptized in Ireland, became king in Cumbria. Rederech asks Kentigern to return to his people in Strathclyde (Chapter 29). Kentigern gathers his disciples and places Asaph over them. Then leaving the monastery with 665 brothers, the saint returns to Strathclyde (Chapter 31). A "greatest multitude" meets Kentigern after he crosses into Cumbria, and after he has banished "the skeleton-like creatures" surrounding the people, Kentigern preaches on a hill at Holdelm [Hoddem], which rose up miraculously under him so that the people can see the saint (Chapter 32). King Rederech grants Kentigern dominion over his kingdom in chapter 33, and after seven years, Kentigern moves his bishopric to Glasgow. The next several chapters of the vita are devoted to the miracles performed by Kentigern.
The miracle of the salmon with the ring and the queen's infidelity is related in Chapter 36. Chapter 37 describes the feast of King Rederech and the "dish of fresh mulberries" requested by the minstrel. Both of these stories are variants of other tales found in Celtic literature. The miracle of the milk beaten into cheese by the river is found in chapter 38. Saint Columba visits with Kentigern (Chapter 39), and the sheep rustlers receive their just punishment in the story of the ram's head that turns to stone in the following chapter. Jocelyn tells how Kentigern raised crosses everywhere he went, and the miraculous power associated with these crosses (Chapter 41).
The final days of Kentigern's earthly life are told in chapter 42. Kentigern receives a visit from an angel who tells him that his disciples' prayers to "travel with Kentigern to heaven" have been answered. A hot bath is prepared (Chapter 43), and Kentigern and his disciples, possibly the same 665 disciples who came with him from Wales, die and are buried (Chapter 44). Jocelyn says that many miracles were performed by the saint after his death, but Jocelyn only relates the death of a thief who stole a cow from Glasgow. Instead of healings, Jocelyn emphasizes the punitive powers of the saint.
The concluding chapter contains the story of King Rederech's "fool," Laloecen, who was inconsolable after Kentigern's death. Laloecen prophesied that Rederech and a certain Morthec would die within the same year, and the prophesy came true. This Laloecen is also prominent in a story found in the same manuscript that contains the fragmentary life. In this short narrative (Vita Merlini Silvestris), Kentigern befriends a wild man, named Lailoken. Lailoken is identified with Myrddin (Merlin) in Welsh literature. The wild man later comes to Glasgow, and during a service in the church, he foretells his own three-fold death (which came true the same day), and the deaths within the coming year of the noblest king of the Britons, the holiest bishop and the most distinguished chief. Although the story is unconnected to the fragmentary life of Kentigern that it follows in the manuscript, some connection is implied between these two texts.
Jocelyn, professional hagiographer?
Jocelyn was a monk at the Cistercian abbey of Furness in Northern Lancashire during the mid-twelfth century. Although nothing is known of the time before he entered the abbey at Furness, he is credited with writing several prose saints' lives, of which the most famous is his Life of Saint Patrick. Jocelyn probably wrote this vita after he had been established at Down in Ireland by John de Courcy in 1185. The two other lives that he is known to have written are of northern saints, and this may reflect a personal interest in the activities surrounding the Cistercian abbey of Melrose. The first northern life narrates the story of Saint Waltheof, an intimate of Aelred of Rievaulx and a reforming abbot of Melrose from 1149 to his death in 1159.107 Waltheof was also the stepson of David I of Scotland, and with the help of David, he founded Cistercian monasteries at Holm Cultram and Kinross. Further incentive for David I's interest in the Cistercians may be found in the person of Aelred of Rievaulx. Aelred was David's seneschal before becoming a monk at the abbey of Rievaulx. In 1147, Aelred became abbot of Rievaulx and contributed to the founding of several Cistercian daughter houses in Scotland. Aelred is also the author of a life of Saint Ninian, another northern saint in whom David I expressed interest. The last life attributed to the authorship of Jocelyn is The Life of Saint Kentigern, and this life, written about 1180, was dedicated to Bishop Jocelyn of Glasgow, also a former abbot of Melrose.
Melrose Abbey was liberally endowed in 1136 by David I, and the king's support for the Cistercian order is evident in his patronage of four daughter houses of Melrose,
including Holm Cultram in Cumbria.108 A possible reason for Jocelyn's interest in Kentigern may stem from the close connection between the abbey of Melrose, the bishopric of Glasgow, and the wish to bring out of obscurity the patron saint of David I's own earldom of Cumbria, namely Kentigern, in order to enhance the king's own reputation as a reformer and patron of the church, and link further the connections between Cumbria and the royal house of Scotland.
The context in which Jocelyn writes finds its origins in the year 1058, when Malcolm III, also called Canmore the Great Head, became king. From the early tenth century Strathclyde had been a client of the king of Scotia, but "its independence was virtually ended when the king of Scotia acquired Lothian" sometime between 960 and 1018.109 After the Norman invasion of William in 1066, many of the English nobles found their way to Malcolm's court, including Edgar Atheling and his sisters, Margaret and Christine. Sometime before 1071, Malcolm married Margaret at Dunfermline. This marriage was probably the cause of William's campaign against Malcolm that next year, because such an alliance suggested a greater interference by the Scots in Northumbria, an area that had been in dispute between England and Scotland. The southern boundaries of both Cumbria and Lothian were basically undefinable, and it is impossible to say "whether they were provinces of the king of Scotland or might reasonably be claimed by William."110 The Anglo-Saxon Chronicle relates that William "led naval and land levies against Scotland, and blockaded that country to seaward with his ships. He invaded the country with his land levies at the Ford [i.e. the Forth] but gained no advantage from it. King Malcolm came and made his peace with King William, gave hostages and became his vassal, and the king returned home with all his levies."111 One of the hostages was Malcolm's eldest son Duncan by his first wife. It was also in 1072 that a dispute between the archbishops of York and Canterbury over canonical subjection was settled and the archbishop of York was granted metropolitan status in northern England and the whole of Scotland.112 Fothad, bishop of St. Andrew's, may have submitted to York, but "the Scottish bishops would continue to consecrate one another, and doubtless Fothad, who died in 1093, forgot his subjection as readily as did Malcom III."113
Malcolm again invaded Northumbria in 1079 and 1091. The Anglo-Norman knights began their colonization of all Cumbrian south of the Solway and Northumbria south of the Tweed during this period. After both invasions, Malcolm was required to submit, "becoming the man of the English king (which implied homage) and swearing fealty as well."114 When the treaty of 1091 was not fulfilled, Malcolm again marched into Northumbria and was killed in a battle near the river Aln. Margaret died three days later, and Malcolm's brother Donald was chosen king by the Scots. The English influence at the Scottish court brought about through Margaret retreated in the face of Donald's hatred "of the anglicized Church, of English clerics, courtiers, singers, knights and traders."115 However, Donald was defeated in battle in 1097 by his nephew Edgar, who was the second son of Malcolm and Margaret. Edgar earlier had been invested with the kingdom of Scotland as a vassal of William Rufus in 1095 when he had fled south to the English court after the death of his mother, Margaret. Edgar's relationship with William Rufus was more firmly cemented when his sister Matilda married Henry I. Unlike his mother, Edgar seems to have cared little for reforming or enhancing the church in Scotland, and it was during Edgar's rule that all the islands to the west of Scotland was given over to Magnus, king of Norway.
When Edgar died in 1107, the kigdom was divided between his brothers. Alexander inherited the throne, but David held Lothian and Strathclyde. Although Alexander brought the church closer to Roman customs and filled the monastic houses he established with Anglo-Norman monks, "Alexander was stubborn in the defence of the Scottish Church and resisted English attempts to place it under the authority of the archbishops of York."116 Royal control of the bishopric of St. Andrews remained an important consideration for Alexander as he wanted to bring in a cleric who would help reform the church in Scotland. "Unlike the Conqueror, Alexander I never found his Lanfranc, yet of his practical devotion to the church, the religious, and good works, there can be no doubt."117
The enthronement of David I as king of Scotland in 1124 opened Scotland to a flood of Norman colonization and a new enthusiasm for ecclesiastical reform. Norman expansion can be seen in the listing of fortresses constructed of timber and surrounded by a ditch. At first these defensive quarters were clustered mainly in Strathclyde and Lothian, but by mid-century, Norman keeps were being constructed across the Grampians and into Moray.118 David showed his greatest support for the monastic ideals of the Cistercians. The Cistercians looked for austerity away from the world, and they settled areas that were isolated from other communities. The basic tenet of the Cistercian order held that the Rule of St. Benedict was the pure Gospel of Christ:
Whatever St Benedict ordained was altogether established by the Providence of the Holy Spirit, so that nothing can be imagined that is more profitable, more holy, or more blessed. Indeed the Rule of St Benedict is an exposition of the whole Gospel, not allegorically but in terms of simple experience and visible works.119
For this reforming order, the "whole Gospel" meant following Christ in poverty and stark simplicity. The Cistercian ideal required complete self-abnegation, poverty, retirement, purity, and refinement of the spiritual life. Cistercian monks built on land owned in full possession by each house, but their buildings were to be "empty of anything redolent of pomp or superfluity, or tending to corrupt the poverty – guardian of the virtues – which they had unconstrainedly embraced."120 The Cistercians sought to renounce any connection with the outside world, and to this end, they refused to accept tithes, rents, services, or other profits of churches and altars.
In order to allow the monks to be freed from the labor of daily chores, the Cistercians accepted into the order as laborers conversi (or "lay-brethren"), who were illiterate and unable to fully participate in the monastic community. However, they were monks in the sense that they followed a simplified monastic regime. Their clothing was similar to the Cistercians, they kept ritual silence, and although they could not be in church, they met to pray during celebration of the divine office. After enduring a noviate of one year, these celibate semi-monks made a profession of life-long obedience with a ritual that "emphasized the binding obligations undertaken by the aspirant, but it did not give him the rights of a member of the community. It was a kind of monastic vassalage."121 Yet, the excellent reputation of the order allowed for a rapid foundation of four Cisterican houses before 1152 as large numbers of monks and conversi were attracted to the monastic life.122
When David I died in 1153, his grandson Malcolm IV, the last Scottish king with a Celtic name, came to the throne. Although Malcolm fought with Henry I against the French, his military service gained no reward from the English king, since Henry "had renounced the promise to surrender Cumbria and Northumberland" back into Scottish hands.123 Malcolm died in 1165 and the crown went to his brother William, who would be called "The Lion."
With the crowning of William, the bishopric of Glasgow begins to rise from its obscurity to became involved in the metropolitan controversy that still simmered between York and Canterbury. How long the bishopric remained viable after Kentigern's death in 612 is questionable since no written records concerning the see are available until the mid-eleventh century. It is noticeable that no bishopric was founded in either Strathclyde or Lothian after these regions fell under Scottish control or influence in the tenth century. There were bishops of Glasgow, who existed in the 1050s, but they were suffragans of York, and it is more than possible that these bishops never crossed the Solway into Scotland.124 Glasgow is mentioned in 1123 when David I, then prince of the Cumbrian region, carried out an inquest by the judices of Cumbria into the ancient possessions of Saint Kentigern's church, to which he had appointed his chaplain, John, as bishop after a very long vacancy.125 When David became king, he sent John to the curia at Rome in the hopes of securing an archbishopric for St. Andrews. John, as bishop of Glasgow, had refused obedience toYork, but now both York and Canterbury sought submission from Glasgow. David's request was set aside and York and Canterbury were to meet in 1127 for a hearing on their claims to Glasgow. At the request of Henry I, the pope granted legatine powers to the archbishop of Canterbury in both England and Scotland. The dispute between David and York seems to have subsided as both realized these powers "might give Canterbury the substance while York struggled for the shadow."126
In 1134, York again pressed Glasgow for submission, and the Roman curia seems to have granted York's request. John instead transferred his obedience to the anti-pope Anacletus II. When the schism ended in 1138, Innocent II sent his legate to David, who then professed his devotion to the pope. After John died, David I appointed Herbert, Abbot of Kelso, to the see of Glasgow, and Herbert was consecrated by Eugenius III at Auxerre. It was under the auspices of Bishop Herbert that the "anonymous cleric of Saint Kentigern" wrote what is now known as the fragmentary life of this saint. In 1164 Malcolm IV had Engelram consecrated as bishop by Pope Alexander III at Sens. When Jocelyn also received consecration by papal command in 1175 at Clairvaux, the precedent for Glasgow being regarded as "a special daughter" of Rome was well founded. Sometime between 1175 and 1178, William the Lion granted a charter to Bishop Jocelyn which authorized a "burgh" at Glasgow as well as a weekly Thursday market. At the same time, a coat of arms was created for the city, which incorporates symbols of several incidents from Kentigern's life, including a tree, a bird, a bell, and a salmon with a ring in its mouth.127 The symbology of the coat of arms may be seen as another aspect of the expansion of Kentigern's cult that promulgated the saint as protector and defender of new city.128
When William came to the Scottish throne, he asked Henry II for the return of Strathclyde and Lothian. When Henry refused, William promptly joined Henry's sons in rebellion. However, William's advance into Northumbria came to a swift end when he was captured at Alnwick Castle by the English army "at the moment (it was said) when Henry II was doing penance at the tomb of St. Thomas Becket for the latter's murder."129
The political settlement of 1174 known as the Treaty of Falaise placed the Scottish king at the mercy of Henry II, and William knelt and pledged to hold Scotland as a vassal. Unlike prior Scottish monarchs, William's homage was not limited to his English possessions, but instead "the oath he swore made vassals of himself, his brother, his lords and churchmen and all their dependants."130 However, the clergy of the Scottish church defied the terms of the treaty. In 1176, Henry II demanded the obedience due by the Scottish bishops to the English church, but the bishops replied that none was due. The debate was taken to Rome, and Jocelyn produced a bull, dated 30 April 1175, in which Glasgow was acknowledged to be subject only to Rome. Alexander III issued a papal bull, Super anxietatibus, which forbade the archbishop of York from exercising any metropolitan rights over the Scottish bishops.
Canterbury's claims over the Scottish church never amounted to a serious threat and the bull of 1176 allowed the Scottish church to remain free from obedience to York. However William requested from Rome in 1191 "further safeguards, specifically against the threat posed by an English legate with authority over Scotland."131 In 1192, a papal bull, Cum universi, granted "the Scottish church (Scoticana ecclesia), containing nine named bishoprics, to be immediately subject, non mediating, to the Holy See."132 This bull effectively prevented York from exercising ecclesiastical control over the Scottish church and closed the door on Canterbury using legatine powers in Scotland. It is within this political climate of competing authority for ecclesiastical obedience and the struggle for a national Scottish church freed from the unwelcome attentions of either York or Canterbury that Jocelyn wrote his Life of Saint Kentigern. If the date of 1180 for its composition is correct, then the Life can be seen as an affirmation of the initial victory of the Glasgow diocese over the archbishop at York with the granting of the papal bull of 1176, and the culmination of the work of David I begun in 1136 with the foundation of Melrose Abbey. The patronage of David I for the Cistercian order, for Glasgow cathedral, and for the patron saint of Strathclyde would suggest that David considered Kentigern more than merely a ‘local' saint, and the king used his power and prestige to expand Kentigern's cult throughout Scotland.