Book IV

BOOK IV

IV.1. How it is not easy for the writer to write of all the martyr’s great deeds

If the Lord increased the grace of my humble gifts by multiples, if I spoke in the tongues of men and of angels [1 Cor 13:1], if I were given hands that could write not just speedily like a scribe, but record most rapidly like a notary, my talent would still be overcome, my tongue would fail, and my fingers become senseless. If I attempted to touch on each of the mighty deeds of the martyr briefly, much less to explain them fully and clearly, the warning of the ethicist would sting me, and not without purpose, for I should have mused on this warning at the beginning:

You who write, select a subject equal to your powers,

And consider carefully what your shoulders can and cannot bear.1 Horace, Ars Poetica, lines 38–40.

But now, since I sought out something greater than my powers, against the counsel of the other wise man, it is as if I were a searcher of majesty overwhelmed by too much glory [Prv 25:27]. For the great deeds and merits of our martyr are indeed very glorious and inscrutable, and though they entice me by their sweetness, they are an onerous weight on my feeble perception. However, seeing that I have begun, I will speak of my lord though I am but dust and ashes [Gn 18:27].

IV.2. Concerning Eilward, to whom the martyr Thomas restored gouged-out eyes and cut-off genitals

From what already has been said it is clear that the memory of saint Thomas deserves to be eternal in the bosom of the Mother and Virgin Church. However, so that the Lord might declare him to be higher in merit and glory, he thought it right to favour him with a miracle more marvelous and unusual, for it is more unusual for new members to be substituted for those that had been cut out than for weakened ones to return to strength.

In the royal town of Westoning in the region of Bedfordshire,2 Westoning is located twenty kilometers south of Bedford. there was a common man by the name of Eilward.3 Benedict described Eilward’s miracle in an antiphon in the Becket Office (Cantus Database ID 601515): Novis fulget/ Thomas miraculis:/ membris donat/ castratos masculis/ Ornat visu/ privatos oculis [Thomas gleams with new miracles: he gives masculine members to the castrated, he grants sight to those deprived of eyes]. See Slocum, Liturgies, p. 200 and Reames, “Liturgical Offices,” p. 575. Eilward’s miracle is pictured in six panels in Canterbury Cathedral window nIII: see Caviness, Windows, pp. 187, 189–91 (the second panel of Eilward’s narrative is listed as “Becket’s Appearance at a Shrine”). Robert of Cricklade discussed Eilward in his Life and Miracles of Thomas Becket. This text is now lost, but it was used by the author of an early fourteenth-century Icelandic saga on Becket: for passages concerning Eilward, see Thómas Saga, pp. 103–7. On some of the legal aspects of Eilward’s miracle, see John Hudson, The Formation of English Common Law: Law and Society in England from the Norman Conquest to Magna Carta, 2nd edition (New York, 2018), pp. 148–9. On the punishment suffered by Eilward, see Klaus van Eickels, “Gendered Violence: Castration and Blinding as Punishment for Treason in Normandy and Anglo-Norman England,” Gender & History 16:3 (2004): 588–602. Benedict frequently uses the historical present in Eilward’s story in order to give his account more verve, but to avoid confusion I have decided to provide past tense verbs throughout. One of his neighbors, Fulk, owed him two pennies for ploughing half a measure of land. He paid one penny, but he put off payment of the other until the following year, saying he did not have it. On a feast day after the passion of the blessed martyr, when by chance they were both going to the tavern (for it is the English custom to indulge in eating and drinking on a feast day, such that their enemies see their sabbaths and mock them), he asked for the debt, but Fulk said that he owed nothing. Eilward asked that he at least pay half of what he owed as he was going to get ale, and he could keep the rest for a similar occasion. When the debtor refused this, the creditor threatened that he would get what was due to him. After they both got drunk at the tavern, Eilward left first and went to Fulk’s house, where he tore down the bar of the door and stormed into the house, a burglar as much from rashness as drunkenness. He turned over everything in the house looking for things he could carry away, and he hit upon a large whetstone and on gloves which country dwellers use to guard their hands against the pricks of thorns. The pauper thief carried off both these things, together hardly worth the value of a penny. Boys playing in the yard of the house cried aloud and ran together to the tavern, calling to their father in order that he might get back the plundered goods. Pursuing the man, Fulk snatched away the whetstone and hurled it on the head of the thief, such that he broke the whetstone with Eilward’s head and Eilward’s head with the whetstone. He also drew the sharp knife that he bore and pierced Eilward’s arm with it. He prevailed against him, took the miserable man to the house that he had ransacked, and tied him up as a thief, a robber, and a burglar. He summoned the beadle of the village, Fulk, who asked what Eilward had done and said, “As a cause for an arrest, this is too small and insufficient. However, if you can increase the theft and produce him weighed down with other goods he supposedly stole, you will be able to accuse him of a punishable crime.” He agreed, and tied a drill, a double-edged axe, a net, and not a small amount of clothing around Eilward’s neck along with the whetstone and gloves. On the next day, he presented him to the king’s officials.

Having been brought to Bedford, Eilward was held in public custody for a month. He sent for a certain venerable priest, Paganus, and, as one exposed to extreme danger, he prepared himself for death – or, that is, for life. He unfolded all the secrets of his conscience, pouring into the secure ears of the priest everything that he found opposed to his salvation. He also committed his hope for the liberation of his body to divine mercy, saying, “My dearest lord, if I can evade this moment of grave danger, I will go on foot to the land which the Son of God, our Lord Jesus, sanctified by his life on earth and by his death. And so, I also ask that I might be branded with the sign of the cross by a hot iron on my right shoulder, so that even if my clothes are removed, the sign might not be taken away from me.”4 Those pledging to go to Jerusalem, as Eilward is doing here, would ordinarily sew a cross onto their clothing. The priest did as he was asked, advising him to flee devoutly to the intercession of the saints, especially to the intercession of the glorious martyr Thomas whom the Lord had exalted with such glory of miracles. Moreover, the length and breadth of his body was measured with a thread, so that the man, when freed, could offer a candle to the holy martyr. He also gave him a scourge made of rods, saying, “Take these rods, and, with an invocation of the martyr, torment yourself five times a day before you eat anything. Do not stop bending your knee to the martyr day and night and making invocations to him, except when, overcome by the need to sleep, you are forced to remedy nature’s deficiencies.” Having diligently advised him in this way, he left, stating that the judges had determined that no priest would be permitted to see him again. However, he often sent a man to him who would – secretly, through the window – rouse him from negligence or encourage him to even greater effort. Moreover, [Auger],5 Robertson’s edition lists the prior’s name as Gaufridus (Geoffrey). Anne Duggan has collated three manuscripts in which the prior’s name is recorded as “Angerius”: see Duggan, “Santa Cruz,” p. 53. The prior of the Augustinian priory of Bedford who was appointed April/May 1170 was named Auger (see HRH, p. 177), so I have emended “Geoffrey” to “Auger.” the prior of the canons of Bedford,6 A canon of Bedford named Philip de Broi was the cause of a sharp dispute between Henry II and Becket on the question of the treatment of criminous clerks: see Barlow, Thomas Becket, pp. 93 and 104. The regularization of Bedford’s canons and the foundation of Bedford’s Augustinian priory occurred c.1166, possibly as a direct result of this notorious incident. Though Benedict does not mention Philip de Broi’s case in his discussion of Eilward’s miracle, he and many of his readers would have known of it. from whom we also have witness to this admirable miracle, often sent food to meet the captive’s needs and visited the jailed man. So that he might breathe freely for an hour at least, he would have him taken from the jail to walk under the open sky.

Four weeks had passed, and the beginning of the fifth had come, when the miserable man was taken from jail to the council to be judged. The accuser charged him of the crime of theft. He assiduously denied the crime he was accused of, casting away all the things that had been hung around his neck except for the whetstone and the gloves, which he acknowledged he had taken as surety for the debt. He wholly denied theft or any other crime. Judgement was delayed and he was again sent back to jail. After the fifth week, he was again brought to the council and accused by his adversary of the theft of only the whetstone and the gloves. The accuser feared to undergo the trial by ordeal demanded by the defendant. Though he was condemned by his silence concerning all the things he had accused him of taking before, he had the favour of the sheriff and the justices, and so he was able to excuse himself from the necessity of a duel, while having the other tried by the ordeal of water. It was, however, a Saturday, and the trial by ordeal was put off until the Tuesday of the following week. He was again held in jail, and his jailer’s cruelty did not allow him to keep vigil in the church, which the piety of the Christian religion allows for persons purging themselves from sin. Nevertheless, he devotedly celebrated in jail the vigils that he was not allowed to celebrate in church.

As he was being led to the water, the priest Paganus met him on the way. He advised him to bear all things with equanimity for the forgiveness of his sins, not to have hatred or anger in his soul, to forgive his enemies from his heart for everything they had done, and not to despair of God’s mercy. He said, “May the will of God and the martyr Thomas be done in me!” Plunged into the water, he was found guilty, and was seized by the aforesaid beadle, Fulk, who said, “Here, you criminal, you will come to me here.” He replied, “Thanks be to God and the holy martyr Thomas!” He was taken to the place of punishment, deprived of his eyes, and his genitals were mutilated. They tore out the entire left eye right away, but they were hardly able to extract the right eye, lacerating it and cutting it into pieces. They buried the members that had been cut off under the turf, and, according to what is read of the one who was set upon by robbers, they stripped him, and, having wounded him (as has been described), they went away, leaving him half dead [Lk 10:30]. Not a small crowd of people had come to the spectacle, some compelled there in the name of public power, some by the tug of curiosity. His accuser Fulk, the king’s official of the same name (by whose instigation and council, it is believed, he was brought to such misery), and two other officials mutilated him. When they asked him for pardon, however, he granted it freely for the love of God and Saint Thomas the martyr. He cried aloud with wonderful faith that though he was deprived of light, he would go to the memorial of the martyr. He did not despair of the kindness and virtue of the martyr, knowing that it would be more glorious for the martyr to restore lost eyes than to save those that had not been removed. The only person with him was his twelve-year-old daughter, who had also begged for food for him when he was in jail.7 Robert of Cricklade noted that Eilward’s daughter was traveling with him after he left Canterbury: see Thómas Saga, p. 103 and Biographical Notes, Robert of Cricklade. Everything he had had been confiscated, all his friends despised him, and of all those who were dear to him, there was no-one to console him [Lam 1:2]. His wounds bled so much that those who were there sent for a priest, fearing for his death, and he confessed to him. After a little while, however, the flow of blood lessened, and he was led by the young girl back to the village of Bedford. He threw himself down beside the wall of a house and stayed there until nightfall. During that day, no-one extended any human kindness to him. When night came, a man by the name of Eilbrict had mercy on him, especially because of the poor weather and heavy rain that was greatly troubling him as he lay out in the open. He received him with joy into his house [Lk 19:6].

He spent ten days in darkness, dedicating himself to the labor of prayers and vigils. In the first vigil of the night of the tenth day, after mourning, groaning and sighing, he fell asleep. The one he had invoked appeared to him, dressed in dazzling, snow-white clothes. Marking the sign of the cross on his forehead and eye-sockets with his pastoral staff, he was seen to depart in silence. He woke up and, heedless of the vision, lay down again and slept. A second time before dawn the one who was dressed in white and had whitened his garments in the blood of the Lamb [Rev 7:14] returned and said to him, “Good man, are you sleeping?” He said that he was awake, and he said, “Do not, do not sleep, but instead keep vigil and persist in your prayers. Do not despair, but rather put your trust in God and the blessed Virgin Mary and Saint Thomas, who comes to visit you. If you keep vigil tomorrow night with a burning wax candle in the church of the blessed Mary nearby,8 This is very likely the parish church of St. Mary’s in Bedford. before the altar of the same Virgin, and do not hesitate, but apply yourself in faith to prayer, you will rejoice in the restoration of your eyes.” Waking, the man silently thought over what this vision might portend, and whether, with its meaning uncovered, the promise of the saint might come about. As he was thinking over this in secret, a female servant said to him, as if she were a messenger of a good omen, “Eilward, last night I saw in a dream that you would receive sight in both of your eyes.” And he said, “This may happen, when it pleases God and his blessed martyr Thomas.” When evening began to fall and the day was nearly done, the lids of his left eye became itchy. In order to scratch them, he removed the wax poultice that had been put on his empty eye sockets to draw out the corruption or to keep the eyelids closed. Opening his eyelids, by the wonderful power of God it seemed to him that the opposite wall of the house was lit up as if with the brightness of a lamp. It was in fact a red ray of the sun, which was almost at the point of setting. Unsure of the truth, and incredulous about this himself, he called the lord of the house and pointed out what he thought was there. And he said, “Insane, Eilward, you are insane. Be quiet. You don’t know what you are talking about.” He replied, “I am definitely not insane, lord. It really seems to me that I see this with my left eye.” His host still wavered, wishing to have certainty about this, and waved his hand before his eyes, saying, “Do you see what I am doing?” He responded, “I think you have moved your hand back and forth in front of my eyes.” Then he told him, in order, what he had seen from the beginning of the first vision, what he had been ordered to do, and what was promised to him.

This word went out among the neighbors [Jn 21:23], and the novelty of the new things attracted not a small multitude of people. The dean Osbern, the lord, or rather the servant of the aforesaid church, ran to that place, and having heard the man’s vision, he brought him into the church. He placed him before the altar of the blessed Virgin, building him up and comforting him in the faith. When a light was put in his hand, he said he could clearly see the altar cloth, and then the image of the blessed Virgin Mary, and last other objects of smaller size. The amazement of the people grew in proportion to the grace of sight given to the man, and they tried to discover how he had the power of sight, whether from new eyes or from his empty eye-sockets without pupils. They discerned two small pupils lurking deep inside his head, scarcely as large as the pupils of a small bird. These pupils continued to grow, and their slow augmentation increased the indescribable and incredible astonishment of all those seeing them. And so the clamour of the people was lifted to heaven, the praises owed to God were rendered, the bells of the church were rung, and many came who had earlier retired to sleep. With their illuminated man, they stayed awake and awaited the sun. In the morning, a crowd of the entire village massed together as one, and in the bright light they looked at him carefully. They noticed that one eye was grey in colour, while the other was entirely black, though when he was born both eyes were grey. Among the rest of them, the priest of the church of St. John, who had received his confession when he had been mutilated, also ran there, and seeing the wonderful power of God, he said, “Why must we wait for the precept of papal authority? I will not wait any longer. I will begin a divine service of the glorious friend of God, Thomas, as of a most precious martyr, and I will say it to the end. Who can doubt him to be a martyr, when he does such things?”9 Usually, a mass for a martyr would only be said for someone who had been officially recognized as such by the Church. Eilward’s miracle dates to late 1171 or early 1172, a year or more before Pope Alexander III’s canonization of Thomas Becket in February 1173. Running to the church, he did what he said he would, with the bells ringing.

And so the man was no longer deprived of light, I declare, but rather he was ornamented by it. In the same way that he had been ignominiously dragged through the middle of the village to punishment, he was now brought back along the same path, with the glory and favor of the people, to the church of St. Paul, where he spent the night of the Lord’s day sleepless. He then left and took up the journey to Thomas, the author of his salvation [Heb 2:10]. Wherever he went, a great multitude of the people followed him, for his fame preceded him and roused everyone to meet him. Whatever gifts were given to him, he distributed to the poor for the love of the martyr. When he had gone about four miles, he put his hand down to scratch an itch on the scrotum of his testicles, and he discovered that his members had also been restored to him. They were very small, but they grew bigger, and he did not deny those who wished to feel them. When he came to London, Hugh, the bishop of Durham,10 See Biographical Notes, Hugh de Puiset, bishop of Durham. received him with congratulations, and did not wish to dismiss him before he sent a messenger to Bedford so that the truth would be certified by a diligent investigation. When we received him, moreover, although the testimony of many had preceded him, we were not satisfied with the substance stated above until we had heard them confirmed by the letters and testimony of the citizens of Bedford. They sent writing to us which stated the following:

“Greetings from the burgesses of Bedford to the convent of Canterbury and all the faithful in Christ.

Let it be known to the convent of Canterbury, and all catholic people, that God has worked a marvelous and remarkable miracle in Bedford through the merits of the most holy martyr Thomas. It happened that a certain rustic of Westoning by the name of Eilward was captured, for a theft worth only a single penny, and led before the sheriff of Bedford and the knights of the county. By them, he was publicly condemned, and outside the village of Bedford, with clerics, laity, and women present, he lost his eyes and testicles. The chaplain of St. John of Bedford, to whom the aforesaid rustic confessed after his mutilation, testifies to this. His host, by name of Eilbrict, with whom he was afterwards given hospitality, also testifies that he was wholly lacking eyes and testicles when he was first given hospitality by him, and afterwards, often invoking the merits of saint Thomas the martyr, through a glorious and wonderful vision of the same martyr, he was restored to health.”

So reads the testimony of the burgesses of Bedford concerning this miracle. What will the enemies of the martyr say about this? Every objection of the malefactors is countered in this, as I might say, miracle of all miracles, nor does the adverse party have any means of avoiding a shameful reproach. The fact that he was truly deprived of his aforementioned members is established by the power his enemies were granted to harm him and their eagerness to do so. The ones who mutilated the man were the ones who hated him the most. But even if they had spared him, not only they themselves, but all those who were there as witnesses to make sure that the sentence of the judgment was not frustrated, as well as the many people who had condemned him, would have imperiled themselves if, injuring the king’s majesty, the condemned man had escaped unharmed. Thus the wonderful wisdom of God, who catches the wise in their craftiness [Jb 5:13], so miraculously ordained that it was necessary for them either to overcome all their fear to testify to the miracle, or to expose themselves to inevitable peril if they denied the sign. The testimony of the truth is also supported by the multitude of witnesses who were there, as well as the firmest grounds of truth, the contrast of the new eyes, and also the smallness at first both of them and of the other members. In place of the eyes of grey colour that nature had given him, he received one that was grey and the other black. Who has ever heard the like? Who has seen something similar? Great was the faith of the man, great the merit of his faith, great also the reward of the merit. [See Parallel Miracles no. 2 for William’s account of this miracle.]

IV.3. Concerning Ralph of Longueville, perfectly cured of leprosy and struck by the contagion of leprosy again

A young man of no less faith or merit of Longueville named Ralph,11 Ralph’s miracle is portrayed in three panels in Canterbury Cathedral window nIII. For Longa villa, which I have decided to translate as Longueville, Robertson suggested Langton (presumably meaning Langdon?) in Kent. It seems more likely that Ralph either hailed from Longueville in Normandy or was a member of the Huntingdonshire family called de Longavilla (for miracles concerning the knight Henry de Longavilla, see III.36–7 above). Ralph’s ability to make provision for himself at a leper hospital, give alms, and vow a trip to Jerusalem indicates that he came from a family with some means. who had been struck by the contagion of leprosy, entered into an agreement with his fellow-lepers of a leper hospital, having determined what he ought to give to them for his living. At this point, due to his hoarse voice, fetid breath, ulcerous limbs, and pustules rising up again and again on his swollen and sallow face, he was not able to live with the healthy. But when the glory of miracles had spread about, he trusted in the merits of the martyr to the same degree that he was ashamed of his own and went to the holy church of Canterbury. He prostrated himself before the tomb of the saint, and, completely dissolved in tears, he was heard in his prayers to obligate himself to astounding vows, with astounding devotion conceived from his astounding pain. He promised to go to Jerusalem for the love of the martyr. Of all the bread by which he was fed, he would make three alms. He would fast on Lenten fare twice in the week: namely, on Tuesday, the day the martyr was killed, and on Friday, the day Christ was crucified.12 This appears to be the earliest reference to special devotion to Becket on a Tuesday. For other references, see Duggan, “The Cult of St. Thomas Becket in the Thirteenth Century,” p. 40 n. 105. As a sign of his devoted servitude, he would also redeem his own head from the saint by an annual offering of four pennies. He remained at Canterbury for nine days. Each day, he drank and washed with the holy water, and he left improved. But we hoped a better end would result from this good beginning, and as he was going we strongly urged him to consider returning when he was fully cleansed. He promised to do so. And it happened that as he went, he was cleansed. Then he brought back joy concerning himself to his friends. We had dismissed him corrupted with leprosy, and in the space of a month, we welcomed back a young man of most elegant form. Therefore from Pentecost almost to Advent he stayed with us, being most whole, healthy, handsome, and without a mark. At length he left us, as if he intended to travel to Jerusalem, and returning home – I do not know by what hidden judgment of God – he was seen to be leprous to such a degree, that no one ever existed more fouled by the contagion of leprosy. The reason for his deterioration He knows, who said to him whom He had cured, Behold, now you are healed: now sin no more, lest something worse happen to you [Jn 5:14].

IV.4. Concerning Humphrey of Chesterton, released from a similar ailment

The repetition of the first miracle doubled the joy kindled in us. For, as we had been informed by the kindness of the venerable master Edmund, the archdeacon of Coventry,13 See Biographical Notes, Edmund, master and archdeacon of Coventry. a leper of his archdeaconate returned from the memorial of the memorable martyr without any blemish. Although we had faith in his words, since this archdeacon had only heard of this thing and what we hear rouses the mind less vividly than what the eyes reliably report,14 Horace, Ars Poetica, lines 180–1. we did not wish to commit it to writing unless the leper came back to us with certifying letters from his dean. The execution of our wishes followed, and as we had heard, so have we seen [Ps 47:9]. Since the letter corresponded with the archdeacon’s narration, we dismissed the man in peace. We have thought it fitting to include the dean’s letter, retained for testimony, for it is in this tenor:

“To the convent of the church of Canterbury, from Saffrid, dean of Chesterton,15 A charter dated 1160x1176 that was witnessed by Edmund (see Biographical Notes, Edmund, master and archdeacon of Coventry) includes a witness named “Sasfredo.” This might be the writer of this letter: see EEA: Coventry and Lichfield, 1160–1182, ed. by M. J. Franklin (Oxford, 1998), p. 74. greetings and prayers in the Lord.

Since the innards of our minds delight in the multitude of the blessed Thomas’ miracles, we have determined to lay bare for you those that have happened among us, so that they might produce an increase in joy along with the others collected by you. Here, therefore, is what has happened, what the Lord has done and shown to us. In our diocese, we know that a certain man, Humphrey by name, was truly ill for three years. Nearly all the strength was drained from his limbs and he had shaggy and prominent ulcers. He was said to be struck by leprosy by those who lived with him and that he should be segregated from human fellowship so that his company could be avoided. Shamed as well as pained by his body’s illness, the man went to the holy places of many saints in the hopes of gaining bodily health. After many days, it came into his mind to seek the places16 Robertson’s edition supplies the word merita (“merits”) at this spot (see Robertson, p. 184 n. 3). Anne Duggan has collated three manuscripts in which the word loca (“places”) is found (Duggan, “Santa Cruz,” p. 53), a reading I have adopted here. of the blessed king and martyr Edmund17 St. Edmund (d.869) was the famed saint and miracle-worker whose relics were held at Bury St Edmunds in East Anglia. For a full-length study of his cult, see Rebecca Pinner, The Cult of St Edmund in Medieval East Anglia (Woodbridge, 2015). for the sake of a cure, where the miracles of the glorious martyr Thomas were already being publicized round about. He heard that through his merits it was certain that lepers were cleansed, the lame could walk, sight was restored to the blind [Mt 11:5/Lk 7:22], and the feverish were brought back to their former color of face. Though he was weak, when he heard these things he hastened (as he could) to travel to the holy Thomas. And so, having turned his prayers to him, hardly had he tasted the health-giving water when he felt the descent of the long-standing illness from his head to his chest, from his chest to his stomach, from his stomach to his legs, and from his legs into nothingness. Returning home, he neglected to give back in return the thanks he owed to God and the saint for his health. Hiding the miracle in his heart which the Lord made visible in his face, he returned to us, and at length he told me what had happened. Hearing the nearly incredible truth of this, I send him back to you, so that he might supply the saint what he did not do.”

This is the tenor of the letter his pen set down, which we had begged the archdeacon to obtain for us. What will we say to this? Among the servants of God, can we find anyone who fully equals the martyr of Canterbury? To whom will we compare him? If you place him next to his contemporaries, you will find no one like him. If you have recourse to the ancients, although there is a similarity, yet you will not find a similar abundance. Moses put leprosy to flight, but only in Miriam.18 See Numbers 12, in which Moses asked the Lord for the healing of his leprous sister Miriam. There were many lepers in the days of Elisha, but no-one was cleansed except Naaman of Syria [Lk 4:27].19 For the story of Elisha’s healing of Naaman, the leader of the Syrian army, see 2 Kings 5:1–14. We believe that neither in the course of the Old Testament, nor in the time of grace,20 By “the time of grace,” Benedict means since the time of Christ. can any servant of God easily be found through whose merits so many lepers were purified or improved. This will be demonstrated by all that follows, but since distaste would be produced by the constant repetition of the same miracle, we will put off the rest of the lepers and interpose a few things.

IV.5. Concerning Odo of Falaise, who, having been struck in the eye, lacked sight for seven years

One of the king’s officials, Odo of Falaise,21 Charles Homer Haskins speculated that this Odo could be identified with the Odo hostiarius (Odo the doorkeeper) who appears in the Pipe Rolls in this period: see Haskins, Norman Institutions (Cambridge, 1918), p. 163. a knight of good repute and, saving the king’s honor, a friend of the martyr during his lifetime, took too little care to protect himself with his shield in the lists and was severely struck in his right eye by the lance of his sporting opponent. It followed that for nearly seven years, he carried out the office entrusted to him with only the use of his left eye. He was a reckoner of the king’s accounts. In the year in which the glorious high-priest Thomas had completed his life, in the summer after he had exchanged life temporal for life eternal through his death, there came a day in the course of the mysteries of the mass when the knight prayed more devoutly than usual. Remembering the cruel murder of the martyr, whom he had dearly loved, he began to weep bitterly. The tears poured forth, and he was not able to contain himself. When he moved his hand to wipe away the tears, his eye, restored to perfect use, saw his outstretched hand before it felt it. Uncertain, he closed his left eye, and verified that the right eye could truly see. We saw him coming to the memorial of the martyr with votive offerings and gifts, yet so humbly and so cast down that one might wrongly think him to be a beggar by his bearing and dress.

IV.6. Concerning the house of Gilbert, baker of the bishop of Rochester, which was freed from fire in the midst of flames

A pilgrim returning from the memorial of the martyr entered the town of Rochester in order to spend the night there. Though his entrance was denied everywhere, the maidservant of the household of Gilbert, the baker of the bishop of Rochester, received him for the love of the martyr. This Gilbert was absent. Several of the young men of the bishop’s household, for whom the same house was accustomed to serve as a dining room, had arrived at nightfall, as was their usual habit. The pilgrim had brought with him a tin ampulla full of the holy water of Canterbury. In the middle of the night, when everything was silent [Ws 18:14], the city was beset by fire. The fire raged everywhere, and with a dry summer heat aided, as usual, by the force of the wind, the entire city was threatened with destruction. Everyone was terrified and confused, and everyone despaired of themselves; no-one had the strength to attend even to their own affairs. The young men and the pilgrim leapt up and climbed on top of the house to try to repel the advancing conflagration, but the fire, growing in strength, was already consuming the neighboring house. Repelled by the heat, they quickly descended. Only the pilgrim, whose faith blazed more hotly than the physical fire, remained undaunted on the roof of the house. He asked for a pole or something long, and a forked stake was held up to him. Taking it, he attached the reliquary that had been hanging from his neck to the top of the stake and he set it closer against the fire. It is believed that the reliquary’s cooling defense had sustained him against the heat of such near and large flames.

The extraordinary faith of the man was followed by an even more extraordinary display of power. The fire, which had been blazing about in different directions and was licking the ridge of the house upon which he stood, suddenly seemed to stand still in the sky, as if it were terrified of an opposing element, or rather, more truly, of the power of the martyr in the element. Many who were there have testified that they saw the whole globe of flame turned aside when the pilgrim thrust the ampulla towards it. Among them was a wealthy inhabitant of the city. Having seen this marvelous sight, he tried to entice the pilgrim away with the offer of twelve shillings, such that his house, which he expected to meet a similar end to the rest, might be protected by the presence of the reliquary. But the pilgrim said, “Even if you brought together all the wealth of the city, I would not now leave this place. This house gave me hospitality for the love of the blessed martyr Thomas. By his merits, it will be freed from the present danger.” And so the whole city was fodder for the flames and destroyed by the combustion. In the midst of the fire, only that house remained unharmed.22 There are documentary references to a major fire in Rochester on April 11 or 12, 1179: see Martin Brett, “The Church at Rochester, 604–1185,” in Nigel Yates with the assistance of Paul A. Welsby (eds.), Faith and Fabric: A History of Rochester Cathedral, 604–1994 (Woodbridge, 1996), p. 27. However, Benedict finished writing the Miracles long before 1179. Fires were a common peril in medieval towns and cities, and this chapter must refer to an earlier, otherwise unrecorded fire in Rochester. Given the reference to the “dry summer heat,” it most likely occurred in the summer of 1171 or 1172.

IV.7. Concerning the houses of William of Yarmouth similarly freed

The kindness of the martyr also preserved the houses of William of Yarmouth from fire. When the village was aflame and the peril to his houses seemed unavoidable and imminent, he said, “Saint Thomas, glorious martyr, come to my aid and repel the fire. If you will be the liberator of my houses, I will be your servant and pilgrim very soon.” The fire was at once restrained. He obtained what he had requested, and he fulfilled with his action what his mouth had vowed.

IV.8. Concerning William of Parndon, son of Eudes, who was dying or dead

Infirmity had brought down William, the son of Eudes of Parndon, to such an extent that he lay without any sign of life and seemed to have departed human affairs. The parents of the boy, thinking that he had without doubt died, got up weeping and lamenting, the mother going out to call together neighbors, the father going into the garden to weep alone. Distressed for their son – dying or dead, I do not know which I ought to say – they called upon the martyr of Canterbury as they anxiously ran about. From their loud cries of lament, the name of the martyr rang through the whole area. Once he had entered the garden, the groaning father looked in the direction of the city of Canterbury and knelt to pay his respects to the body of the martyr, though it was far away.23 Canterbury is located about 100 kilometers southeast of Parndon, a village in Essex that was absorbed by the village of Harlow in the mid-twentieth century. After a little while, both of them re-entered the house, and they found the boy revived, whom they believed to have left truly dead. After eight days, restored to his former vigor, he was presented to his liberator and shown to us.

IV.9. Concerning Baldwin, from the same place, who had weakened from an acute illness

We also saw another with them, Baldwin, who testified that he had been confined to his bed for five weeks. In all that time, he had taken nothing except for water, with the exception of Sundays, when, as is the custom, he was carried to the church and received blessed bread as if for communion. When he tasted the health-giving water of the martyr, he immediately assumed not only good condition, but even greater vigor.

IV.10. Concerning a nun who remained half dry in the midst of a heavy rain

A nun of a certain church some twenty-seven miles from Canterbury24 This church is most likely the priory of Minster in Sheppey, which is located about forty kilometers from Canterbury. Another possibility is the Benedictine nunnery of Higham or Littlechurch, about fifty kilometers from Canterbury, which was founded c.1148. was sitting outside and making, with great devotion, a little gift – a belt to be offered to the martyr. Suddenly, water began to pour down from the sky. Her fellow nuns took refuge under shelter, but she, pressing on with the work she had begun, would not move from the place. “Come in,” said the other sisters, “Lecarda, come in quickly.” But she said, “I will not go in, nor will I move from here: am I not the worker of St. Thomas the martyr? If he wishes, he will keep his work and his worker unharmed by the rain.” The rain became heavier and there was a powerful rainstorm all around her, but the martyr’s worker, sitting in the middle of the downpour, remained half dry and half wet. From the top of her head, her back part was soaked by rain, but not a drop touched the belt nor the front part of her body except for her feet. She called to two of the sisters and showed herself to them, so that they might be witnesses and knowers of such a miracle. The belt was sent to us, and it was hung up next to the body of the martyr as a memorial of the miracle.

IV.11. Concerning the saint’s water turning into blood

We also heard about a remarkable miracle shown in the village of Stafford, namely of the water turning into blood. I could describe how this happened, but I prefer the letter and testimony of the faithful religious man Albinus, abbot of Darley,25 See Biographical Notes, Albinus, abbot of Darley. to my narration. I sent a messenger to him in order to find out the truth of this event, and he sent letters to the prior of the church of Canterbury to this effect:

“To Odo, most dear friend in Christ and prior of the church of Christ of Canterbury,26 See Biographical Notes, Odo, prior of Christ Church, Canterbury. from Albinus, abbot of Darley. Eternal greetings in Christ.

Just as he who tells a falsehood from his heart should be charged with the offense of falsity, so too he who fails to testify to truth in his time is guilty of falsity, for this, as the scripture tells us, is to deny Christ.27 This is a reference to the denial of Christ by Peter, told in Mark 14:66–72, Matthew 26:69–75, Luke 22:5–62, and John 18:15–27. Having been requested for the truth, we therefore bring forward testimony to the truth; we know that our testimony is true [Jn 21:24]. Thus, let it be known to you that a certain burgess of Stafford, Reinard, was afflicted by a severe illness. He asked for the water of the blessed martyr Thomas from a knight named William de Warenne,28 William son of Ranulf, lord of Whitchurch (see III.40 and Biographical Notes) was sometimes termed William de Warenne, and Whitchurch is only about fifty kilometers from Stafford. However, the Warenne family was large and William a common name, so this knight could be someone else entirely. who had acquired the water from you. When a messenger brought the vessel in which the blessed water had been contained to Reinard, it was found to be empty, and the hands of the messenger appeared bloody. The wife of Reinard and Nicholas his son saw and testified to this miracle. Having seen this, Reinard gave thanks to God, and disclosed in the spirit the things that had happened to a priest named William. Reinard asked that the vessel be filled with holy water, and the water poured into it was turned into blood. I and Henry and William and Osbern, priests, and Nicholas and Odo, deacons, and the aforesaid woman Aileva and her son Nicholas,29 See Biographical Notes, Nicholas son of Aileva. saw and testify to this. The same Henry saw the water of the blessed martyr that he had acquired from you turn into blood, and I also saw this. He presented this water with its ampulla to the prior of Lenton.”30 See Biographical Notes, Robert de Broi, prior of Lenton.

So runs the testimony of the abbot about this miracle. Moreover, the clerk administering the archdeaconate of the county of Stafford, who had come from those parts to reverence the martyr, was questioned by us. He confessed that he had sent for the priest who had blessed the water poured into the pyx and had placed the blood made from it in his church, with two clerks accompanying it. The clerk demanded an oath from the priest on the right hand of the Most High concerning this transformation, and he, with his hand on the holy book, maintained his testimony to such a miracle.

IV.12. Item concerning the same

But since what has been written might seem to be in the realm of the impossible – as if the One who made wine from water and changed wine into his own blood were not able to change water into blood31 Benedict is referring to Christ turning water into wine at the Marriage at Cana (John 2:1–11) and the miracle of the Eucharist, the turning of water into Christ’s blood. – we will bring forth the truth of how this same sign was confirmed by a fourth repetition,32 Benedict counted three transformation miracles in the chapter above. He celebrated these four miracles in an antiphon in the Becket Office (Cantus Database ID 200355): Aqua Thomae quinquies/ varians colorem/ in lac semel transiit/quarter in crurorem [The water of Thomas, varying its colour five times, transformed once into milk, four times into blood] (see Slocum, Liturgies, p. 205 and Reames, “Liturgical Offices,” p. 577). Benedict does not tell a miracle of the water changing into milk in his collection, but there is such a miracle in William’s collection: see William of Canterbury, Miracula, IV.45, pp. 354–7. so that no uncertainty might remain in the hearts of doubters. A certain knight, Elias, the reeve of the manor of Froyle (as it is termed in English),33 See Biographical Notes, Elias of Froyle. returned from Canterbury and hung the filled ampulla that he had brought back in the church, not daring to keep in his own home the common medicine of the sick. However, the squire of the knight, being less circumspect and cautious than his lord, kept the ampulla he had brought back from Canterbury, which was filled with the same relic, in his house. Those who needed medicine in the parish hastened to the church, and they experienced in themselves the virtue of the Canterbury medicine. However, the priest, Ranulph, a man who is by our judgment very devoted to God and the holy martyr, did not administer the health-giving liquid to anyone without instructing them to fast for two or three days first. Hearing this, many of the parishioners turned back, saying, “This is a harsh message: why should we fast for him when he never abstained for us?”

A certain woman who was appointed the custodian of the house of the aforesaid knight heard that the priest had denied the water to many people. To one of the women who had been refused, she said, “Why would you fast? Come to me, and I will give you plenty of the same liquid.” Going back to the house, she secretly stole the ampulla of the squire. As she was about to give the water to the woman who had followed her there, she saw the lord of the house coming in, and she was afraid. She poured the water into a beaker that was at hand. So that her theft would not be noticed, she filled the ampulla with other water and put it back in its place, bidding the woman to come back the next day. In the morning, when she was coming to take away the promised gift, the other woman went to the chest to fulfil her promise, took out the beaker, and found thick and congealed blood. She paled from fear, and she broke out in great cries as women do. The servants of the home ran there, asking for and hearing about the reason for the uproar. The lord of the house, the knight, also came, and from the voice of the one confessing, he considered that there was some reason for such a change. And so the priest Ranulph, mentioned above, was sent for, and he came. Like the others, he was completely horrified seeing this thing. The blood, as was said above, was thick and coagulated, such that it was able to be divided into pieces. It had blackish streaks in the midst of it like the blood of a person with a smashed skull. Whatever was touched by it was tinged as if by a purple dye. Taking the beaker with its blood, the priest placed it in the church and preserved it there for many days. Fearing lest the substance of the blood might be diminished by drying out, or even to be wholly reduced to nothing, he added water, by which it was dissolved. Finally, it dried out completely. However, the bottom of the beaker remained completely stained by the dried blood. The priest brought the beaker and bestowed it on us.

Dear brothers, what do we think the Lord wished to impress upon our hearts by this event? Let others say what they perceive. To me, it seems that three things are suggested. First, the degree of similarity between Christ and the martyr. Just as one turns the wine into blood, so the other turns water into blood, yet both here and there the Lord has worked. Second, how great of a relic is acquired by those who carry away the water sanctified by the blood of the martyr. Many of those who carry it away would complain very much to leave without it. Third, with how much reverence and devotion the water ought to be drunk, when a woman who wishes to give it away irreverently finds that no-one is able to drink it. I could expound further on each point, but as I believe enough has been said for the wise, I proceed to other things, for the way before me is great.

IV.13. Concerning Seileva of Froyle, from whose breast a swelling of extraordinary size protruded

We heard three miracles from the mouth of the same venerable priest that are pleasing and worthy to be repeated. An abscess of extraordinary size protruded from the breast of Seileva, one of his parishioners. To use the words of the priest, it seemed equivalent to the thickness of the end of a large beam. She came and showed herself to the priest, and, instructed by him, took up the three-day fast. With the time completed, she washed the swelling with the sacred liquid, and the next day she found it reduced to the smallness of a nut or acorn. She washed again, and the next day revealed to the priest that it had wholly disappeared. He rejoiced greatly. Because it is said that the humors of the entire body flow to the breasts, he had been in a state of great fear and agitation that the swelling might rupture and the woman would be drained until she exhaled her spirit and died.

IV.14. Concerning Everard of Winchester, weakened by a sudden paralysis

The second miracle he told us was about his brother Everard, chaplain of the church of the blessed Virgin Mary at Winchester, a man very well known in the entire city.34 A man named Everard, possibly this same Everard, appears as a witness to a charter issued by Henry of Blois, the bishop of Winchester, between 1154x1171: see EEA VIII: Winchester, 1070–1204, ed. by M. J. Franklin (Oxford, 1993), no. 130, p. 93. One night when he was resting in the chamber of the prior at the church of Southwick,35 Southwick, an Augustinian monastery near Brighton, was founded c.1145x53. It is about thirty kilometers from Winchester to Southwick. The prior in the early 1170s may have been named Philip, who is known to have been prior there 1174x88: see HRH, p. 184. he was rising from his bed to answer the call of nature when a paralysis suddenly struck him. As he was trying to walk forward, he fell down steep steps. Awakened by the noise of his fall, the prior woke other sleepers. They swiftly ran towards him, carrying lit candles, and found him to be entirely without the use of his senses. The ill man was carried to the infirmary, and there he remained for seven days, neither seeing, nor eating, nor drinking. He lay there like a dying man. In Winchester, it was heard that he had died, and his prebend was given to another cleric, his books were handed away, and his estate disposed of. Many of his friends and relatives gathered around him. In this group was his brother, from whom we heard about this, namely the above-mentioned priest, Ranulph.36 Froyle, where Ranulph was priest, is about forty-five kilometers away from Southwick. Although the prior wished to make the paralyzed man, already dying, into a canon, Ranulph dissuaded him saying, “What good can it be to a man without sense or reason to take on the religious habit? The habit which he assumes unknowingly would bring him no merit, but it could be a cause of ill to him. Such a change of habit would be a confirmation of the gift of his prebend and the distribution of his goods.” After a short while, Ranulph said, “Is there anyone in this village who might have even a small amount of the water of saint Thomas the martyr?” The water was found and brought, and it was poured three times into the mouth of the ill man, who was barely breathing. He suddenly spoke, saying “If it pleases God, I will go to Canterbury” – and again he lay mute as he had lain before.

Leaving that place, his brother Ranulph went to Winchester in order to recall the items of his brother that had been dispersed or to deal with them in a better way. When he had sat down at table, a servant of the same brother whom he had left paralyzed came in and said to him, “Your brother and my master is here.” Thinking that he had been brought as a corpse, he answered, “Shouldn’t he have been buried there with the canons?” But the messenger said, “By no means – see, he comes.” “How does he come?” said the priest. “Is he brought on a bier?” “Not on a bier,” he said, “like an ill or dead man, but as a vigorous and living man he comes on horseback.” All those who heard him were stupefied, and wondered if the things that were said could be true. They wondered especially in regard to the brother, when they heard that he was coming whom the brother had left all but dead. The rumor spread through the city, and not a small crowd of men went out of the city to meet him, wishing to see revived the one they had heard was dead. Impatient at any delay, they went well out of the city, to the distance of about two miles, to intercept the arriving man. Seeing him, they were made glad with great joy. And they conducted him into the city and congratulated him, either because they greatly esteemed him, or rather because to them, he was dead and is come back to life again, was lost and is found [Lk 15:24]. On account of this a great crowd came out to meet him, since they had heard that this sign was worked in him [Jn 12:18]. His prebend was restored to him and all the rest of those things which belonged to him by right. The cleric to whom the prebend had been transferred died a few days later. These things, as they are written in unpolished style, the aforesaid Ranulph, the brother of the ill man, asserted to us, which he both saw with his eyes and heard with his ears [Mt 13:15]. The ill man, now well, said that he could not remember either his illness nor those things that had happened around him, excepting that, when he returned to himself, he asked that his horses be brought to him, and, mounting, he hastened the twelve miles to Winchester, where he was stupefied by the stupefied crowd coming to meet him.

IV.15. Concerning his brother [Ranulph]37 The caption writer has “Ralph” rather than “Ranulph” here. the priest

The aforesaid Ranulph visited the martyr, drawn there not only by these miracles but also by another need. For three weeks he had been weakened by an acute illness. He had eaten nothing in that time and the doctors despaired of him. Disposing of all that he had, he awaited nothing less than the coming of death. On a certain Saturday, he called to mind the new martyr of the English and made a vow to him, saying, “Raise me up from this bed, glorious martyr, and I will come to you.” He ate that very day, got up, and, getting on a horse, he went as far as the barn, which had been built for him two miles off. He then returned to his house, for on account of his infirmity, he was hardly able to stand. On the next day, however, returning from the church and feeling himself to be better, he ordered his horses to be saddled so that he might go on the journey he had vowed. Those who knew his debility attempted to dissuade him, but he would not give in. Undertaking the journey, that same day he traveled some forty miles. Rather than being worn out by this exertion, it was as if he received strength from it. He came to the martyr in excellent health.

IV.16. Concerning the wife of [Anfrid]38 He is named “Hamfrid” by the caption writer and in one manuscript: see Robertson, MTB, vol. 2, p. 196 n. 1. Robertson’s edition gives his name as Ansfridus, but Duggan has collated three manuscripts that provide Anfridus (see Duggan, “Santa Cruz,” p. 53), which I will follow here. of Ferring, in whose uterus a fetus had putrefied

I will tell of a very wondrous sign in a few words. A man of the knightly order, Anfrid of Ferring in Sussex,39 See Biographical Notes, Anfrid of Ferring. spent his days well with his espoused wife, who was with child. The time of delivery had come for the woman [Lk 2:5–6], but she was not able to give birth. She had conceived a son, but she would not be his future mother: she would be his sepulchre. For fifteen days the fetus had not moved in the mother’s womb. A corpse lay in a corpse, a dead body in the dying one; the child was gone before it was seen, buried before it was born. The living woman seemed to have putrefied from the dead body. She was rendered senseless and her case seemed hopeless. “What are we doing?” said the father of the house, “what are we doing? We sit despairing, and we do not remember the martyr of Canterbury.” Taking up a string, he measured the dying woman with an invocation of the martyr’s name, promising a gift of an oblation to the martyr which she was not able to vow for herself. After the vow was made, no-one would have been able to take a thousand paces before she gave birth. The dead fetus was so wasted away that it seemed to have the appearance of meat boiled in a pot. And so the woman, whom they thought had rotted inside, escaped, and she visited the martyr in the company of her husband. We heard their own voices relating these things, and we had faith in their witnesses and their many tears.

IV.17. Concerning Alelm who, having cut his thumb, invoked the martyr, and after the meal did not find a scar of the wound

A certain man at St. Omer by the name of Lambert prepared a great feast and invited many guests [Lk 14:16]. Among the revelers and feasters was a distinguished young man named Alelm. When he took up a little loaf in order to slice it, his knife slipped, and he cut his left thumb all the way to the middle of the nail. He immediately exclaimed, “Help, God and saint Thomas!” Blood flowed out forcefully. The young man, embarrassed, hid his misfortune as best he could by wrapping his thumb with the border of his cloak. His fellow diners asked whether he was hurt, to which he said, “By no means, by the will of God and saint Thomas.” After they had eaten, water was brought to wash away the blood and a cloth to bind up the thumb. The blood was washed; the hurt was gone; the wound was sought but not found. Everyone was astounded. They saw the water completely colored by the blood and the blood-stained cloak, but they could not discern where the blood had come from. The doctor on whom he had called had not only healed the wound, but did not even leave a scar of the wound on the thumb. The young man told all the listeners of the dream he had had the night before, which he had already told some of them that morning before the accident. “I thought,” he said, “that I was sitting and eating at table with the blessed martyr Thomas, and the saint gave me some of his hairshirt and relics.” They said, “truly, the martyr was at table with you today, by whose invocation you were so quickly healed.”

IV.18. Concerning Weremund, son of Wielard of Béthune, whose bowels spilled out of his anus

Weremund, son of Wielard of Béthune, a boy nearly three years old, sickened in his mother’s lap, and under the torment of a prolapsed rectum was suddenly heading to death. Women experienced in countering this peril were called in, but despite applying all their care, they were not able to succeed. In the end, his bowels spilled out of his anus and his parents’ cries were raised up. Alerted by the terrible cries, the neighbors hastened to see him. A priest also came, and he bound the despairing parents to still greater despair, saying, “If there were no other man in this world, the boy would not be able to escape this death.” An unknown man came to the same spectacle, and he said to the despairing father, “If you had the water of the martyr of Canterbury, you would certainly get your healthy son back. It freed me from insanity, and it would be able to return this boy’s bowels to their place.” They made inquiries about the martyr’s water, and someone said it could be found in a neighbouring village about a mile away. When the father heard this, he hastened to the place. Returning with water he had received from Tetion, the son of Hertran, he poured it into the mouth of the boy on the brink of death, promising an oblation of the boy to the martyr if he received him back well. The crowd and the priest were still there and they awaited the end of the matter. Hardly had the water descended into the interior of the child, then little by little his bowels were mended and gathered up in his stomach. In the sight of all those there, the boy rose up sound, as if he had not suffered any injury.

IV.19. Concerning Hermer, son of Tetion, who had movements and tremours in all his limbs

When Hermer, the son of the aforenamed Tetion, was about seven years old, he was seized by an illness and recovered after the space of a year. He seemed to be well again, but then was suddenly struck with a grave affliction. His steps were always unsteady and his hands and arms were constantly in motion. With the look of someone insane, his head constantly turned about in a circle, such that it seemed his mind was seized. He was condemned to such a silence that it almost seemed as if he were mute and speechless. The father consulted many doctors, but all except one pronounced him to be incurable. Because that one doctor required a fee so high that the father of the boy, constrained by poverty, was not able to pay it, he took refuge in the merits of the saint. He heard that relics of the martyr of Canterbury were to be had at the port of Wissant at the church of the blessed Nicholas.40 Wissant was one of the major embarkation points from France to England. Becket departed from Wissant in late 1170 on his return to Canterbury. He visited that place, and asked that the portion of the hairshirt, which was held there, be dipped in water. After the boy had drunk and was taken away from the church, the motion of all his body stilled, and his ability to speak returned along with restored health. When asked how he was, with his freed voice he answered that he was healed and well. He was brought back into the church and thanks were made to God.41 On this and other stories concerning children who appeared insane, see Claire Trenery, “Insane Innocents: Mad Children in Benedict of Peterborough’s Miracula Sancti Thomae Cantuariensis,” Family & Community History 18:2 (2015): 139–55.

IV.20. Concerning [Vidoch]42 The caption writer has “Judoc.” de Anoch, whose water boiled out of its vessel on account of his anger, but when he became pacified, the water was pacified too

Vidoch de Anoch43 The place is unidentified but was very likely located in northern France. received water in a little vessel from the same Tetion. When he left, he saw that two men were coming towards him, neither of whom he liked, and he resolved that he would walk by without speaking to or greeting them. Suddenly the water began to flow out of the vessel, like a pot boiling over, as if it wished to visibly say to him: “there will be no friendship between me and you, you who do not love your neighbor.” The bearer realized that he had made a bad decision, and with a changed mind he said, “I will certainly greet them.” He marvelled that at the moment that his heart was pacified, the water was pacified as well.

IV.21. Concerning Mary, who wept at one moment and laughed the next

We marvelled no less at the afflictions of a certain Mary of the diocese of Rouen, which she had suffered for nearly a year.44 Mary’s miracle is told in three panels of Canterbury Cathedral window nII: see Caviness, Windows, pp. 196–7, where they are labeled “Cure of Matilda of Cologne.” At one moment she would cry and in the next break into laughter. She would clap her hands, and after clapping, she would suddenly fall and lie in an ecstasy for an hour or a half hour. She was advised that every day that she heard the Mass, she should place her head underneath the Gospel while it was being read. She very often felt a good effect from this remedy. After hearing the Mass, she often remained quiet, but she was not freed. The same affliction used to return ten or more times a day. Unwillingly laughing and crying, the girl was fatigued to the point of death. When, at last, she invoked the martyr and made a vow of pilgrimage, she was rewarded with fifteen days of peace. She put off fulfilling her vow, and was returned to the earlier scourging, so much so that the latest attacks seemed worse to her than the earlier ones. She considered the cause of her deterioration, and she set off on the promised journey and was not attacked again. We later sent a messenger to her, who might make us more certain of her liberation. Although he did not find her at home, he learned of her freedom from her neighbors and reported this to us.

IV.22. Concerning Durand, the son of Osbern of Eu, into whose ear a stone had fallen

Durand, the son of Osbern of Eu, was playing with stones. Having by chance been called by his mother, he tossed up the stones, and then one fell into his ear and caused him pain. He put his finger into his ear to try to get the stone out, but after greater and greater probing he gave up, tormented. His parents came and tried the same thing, but their attempts were useless. Then they put in a curved needle in order to draw out the stone, but this drove it in more deeply. As the stone vanished from their eyes, so the hope of getting it out vanished from their hearts. The boy began to be in great anguish. His cries and wailing and rolling about of his body made him seem as if he were insane. He was kept safe by the binding of his hands, and the next day he was brought to church. The father invoked the martyr for his son, and turning to the boy he said, “Son, vow that you will go to Canterbury and visit the tomb of the martyr.” “I promise, my father,” he said. Wonderful to relate, at the same moment that the word came from his mouth, the bloody stone came from his ear. He who wishes to see it, let him come to the martyr, and he will find the fulfillment of his desire.

IV.23. Concerning Ernald, Ernulf, and Amalric, three ill men from the border region of Thérouanne and Ponthieu

From the border region of Thérouanne and Ponthieu we received three sick men: Ernald, his brother Ernulf, and their neighbor Amalric. Ernald had been fatigued for four months by a fistula. With a swelling abounding in his throat and on his face, he was deprived the sight of one of his eyes. For a similar length of time, Ernulf had been weakened by diarrhea by day and by night. Amalric’s sinews were so stiffened and contracted that he carried himself about supported by two crutches. When Amalric reached the threshold of the church, his feet and shins became like lead and his progress was halted as if he were pressed down by a weight. Yet when, with much effort, his companions had dragged him to the tomb of the martyr and he prayed there, the pain ceased, the weight lifted, and the whole of his lost health was restored. On the next day, he offered his crutches, and, leaping about in our presence, he gave us a clear indication of his health. The other man came saying that the flux that he had suffered from had fluxed into nothing. The third, too, received improvement: the very large swelling on his diseased jaw shrunk down so that it had nearly reached the slender size of the healthy jaw. However, he left with his companions and left us in doubt of the completion of the healing begun in him.

IV.24. Concerning Philip of Alnwick, whose genitals had Swollen up

A clerk of Alnwick named Philip suffered with the detriment of two infirmities: a dangerous debility of the feet and a dreadful inflammation of the genitals. The second illness had brought him to despair of his life and the doubled pain fixed him to his bed. When the doctors despaired of him, he fell asleep. He thought he was lying in a church near the shrines of two saints. The blessed and glorious martyr Thomas rose from one of the shrines and spoke to him, saying: “Philip, you saw me, and you loved me very much when I lived in the world. And this will benefit you, in this life and in the future.” With his hand, he stroked the recumbent man from his head to his groin. He grasped the greatly inflamed and swollen scrotum with two of his fingers and let go after piercing it with his nails. He said to someone standing by, “Take the shoes off his feet.” When this was done, the cleric woke from sleep, and at the same moment the pain left his feet and the terrible swelling left his genitals. And he realized that this was not a dream of the sort that men are often deluded by, especially as he found that the skin of that area was indeed burst by the nails of the martyr. He found himself lying in a great deal of water, with his scrotum drained and shrunk back to its proper size. He rose healed, and from a great distance he came to Canterbury.

IV.25. Concerning his son John, whose entire body was possessed by pustules

His son, John, had a headache, and his whole body, front and back, was covered with pustules. He washed each one with the water of the martyr, and he was rewarded with a visitation of the martyr in his sleep, who promised him health with this stipulation: “If you vow to go to Canterbury, you will soon be cured.” Waking, he found all the ulcers burst. Made whole in a short time, he took on the owed journey of pilgrimage.

IV.26. Concerning a certain epileptic woman in the aforesaid Philip’s household

An epileptic woman from the household of the aforesaid Philip came to Canterbury. She drank the water of the martyr, went back and afterwards did not fall from the falling sickness.

IV.27. Concerning the leprous Walter

A leprous knight of Lisors named Walter lived for more than a year in a leper hospital. Having received a license from his fellow lepers, he went to Lisors to his wife, and, taking up funds for the journey, he hastened to Canterbury. After having stayed there for a time, he returned, and as he returned he sensed returning health in himself. Having turned back to his own lands, all that had legally belonged to him was restored, and so he had fellowship with men and lived with them. When I heard this, I sent one who would inquire diligently into the truth of the matter. He found him gravely ill, but having no mark of leprosy.45 Perhaps the same messenger who checked on the epileptic Mary of Rouen (see IV.21) also went to Lisors to see how Walter was faring. Lisors is a little over thirty kilometers from Rouen.

IV.28. Concerning the leprous Eilgar

The body of Eilgar of Calne, similarly tainted by leprosy, was wasting away. Pustules stood out on his entire body. His hands and feet were contracted and covered with ulcers, and for the most part had no feeling. His nostrils were blocked up and his breath stank. Even his wife shunned his company and sent him away. He fled to the martyr, and before his tomb, having poured out tears and prayers, he slept. And it seemed as if he saw someone passing by him and saying, “Man, get up, go home, and be healed” [Mt 9:6/Mk 2:11/Lk 5:24]. And so, when he got up, he obeyed the commands. On his return home, from his renewed vigor in walking he felt a great beginning of health in himself. He passed everyone who was walking in front of him, though when he came to Canterbury, he had not been able to keep up with the slowest. And so with his flesh made whole and blooming again he was greatly improved, but by my judgment he was not completely cleansed. The cured ulcers began to come forth again, such that those who had not seen him before might think him to be a leper, but those who knew him marvelled at the change.

IV.29. Concerning Ernold, the dropsical baker of the earl Simon

I know what I tell from the relation of an illustrious man, namely, Earl Simon.46 See Biographical Notes, Simon de Senlis III, earl of Northampton. Dropsy had enormously distended his baker, Ernald. When he had been ill for nearly two years, always growing worse, he was finally confined to his bed and declined for half a year longer. His lord was grieved because he was going to lose him. Doctors were called in, but not one was found who would venture to take charge of his treatment, for there were clear signs in him that his liver had rotted. He placed all his hope for his healing in the doctor of Canterbury. Solely by the invocation of his name, he was restored to the point of walking. He hastened to Canterbury, slept by night in the church, and with a sudden loosening he dishonored the place dedicated to God. But in the morning, when he felt very ashamed of himself, he found the pavement clean and quite unpolluted, with nothing indecent present. And so his lord received him back lean and healthy, and he gave great thanks to God and the martyr.

IV.30. Concerning Juliana, the daughter of Gerard of Rochester, who was not able to open her eyelids

Gerard of Rochester led his daughter, Juliana, whose eyelids were fastened together and inseparably united.47 Juliana’s miracle is pictured in three panels of Canterbury Cathedral window nII: see Caviness, Windows, pp. 193–4. This was put to the test, and it was proved that there was nothing in this of fiction or fraud. For four months she had not been able to distinguish day from night. With her eyelids anointed by the marvelous blood, father and daughter turned back, the daughter in the night of blindness, the father in the night of sorrow. On returning home, they rebuked the martyr because he had not heard them. With her eyes suddenly opening, the martyr restored the grace of seeing to the girl and the cause of delight to the father.

IV.31. Concerning the girl named Laeticia, who lost an eye from the piercing of a straw when she was in her cradle

A girl named Laetitia was also a cause of joy to us.48 A literal translation preserves Benedict’s wordplay: “A girl named Joy [Laetitia] was also a cause of joy to us.” She was born of a noble father but humble mother. I omit the names of the district and estate on account of their crudeness. When she lay in her cradle, the pupil of her eye was injured by the piercing of a straw, and up until her fourteenth year she suffered the loss of its vision. One of her aunts, who had raised her, was going to pray at Canterbury, and, whether the aunt wished it or not, the girl followed her. She lay with her head upon the martyr’s head and fell asleep. When she woke, she pressed together the eyelids of her healthy eye with her hand, and looked around with the eye that was then healed: “Aunt,” she said, “I definitely see with the eye with which I did not see.” And she said to her in secret, “Hush, daughter, hush, and put your head on the saint’s sepulchre again.” She put her head back, and after a little while rose completely cured.

IV.32. Concerning the knight Geoffrey, surnamed Malaeartes, who was blinded by the water of the saint

The saint who, in this manner, brought light to the innocent, struck with blindness a knight of Gloucestershire who came to him in an unworthy way. He was called Geoffrey, surnamed Malaeartes, of the manor called Charlton.49 This seems to refer either to the manor of Charlton Kings, part of the hundred of Cheltenham, or to the manor of Charlton Abbots, owned by the Benedictine abbey of Winchcombe. Healthy, he came to the martyr among the sick. He asked that the blood and water mixture be put in his eyes. We denied him, seeing that he had little need, but he insisted, and having conquered with his persistence, he left. About seven miles distant from the city, he was struck with blindness, and was afflicted with such pain that it seemed he was able to say, “O all you that pass by the way, attend, and see if there be any sorrow like to my sorrow” [Lam 1:12]. Turning into himself, he gazed into the interior of his heart, and overturning the whole house of his conscience, he found the drachma that he had lost.50 Referring to the parable of the woman who lost a drachma (a coin) and turned over her whole house until she found it (Luke 15:8–9). And so he lifted up his soul, bowed down under the feet of the passersby, to the Lord. He ejected the filth of his sins through the doorway of confession and took the sacrament of the Lord’s body and blood. Thus, with his interior illumined, he was led back to Canterbury. In blindness, he carried out three days of penance there, and he recovered the light he had lost. He testified to us that because of this blindness he was purged of many sins that he had always held secretly shut up in his heart, and that he would never have brought them forth except by the lash of blindness.

IV.33. Concerning Aliza, the wife of the fisherman Martin of Leicester, who was blinded by the martyr

Things like this also happened to several others, of whom one was the woman Aliza, wife of the fisherman Martin of Leicester. Returning from Canterbury, she was riding in a wagon with two women when she heard one of them complaining that she saw nothing, and that she had received an eye-salve of the saint’s blood in her clouded eyes to her harm. Breaking into laughter, Aliza said, “Others whom the martyr receives sick he sends away well, but you came well, and leave blind. With signs like this, be sure to visit the tombs of the saints again.” And as she laughed heartily, it felt to her as if burning hot coals from an oven were dropped into her own eyes. Her eyes were greatly troubled from the heat, and before she had rubbed them four times, the light of her eyes had wholly left her; it already was not with her. And so she continued to be blind for around ten weeks. When she had paid sufficient penalty for her mocking behavior, she returned to Canterbury, having been admonished to do so in a dream, and she obtained her sight, though not fully. We do not know whether or not she afterwards regained the full extent of her earlier vision in the cleansed eyes.

IV.34. Concerning a peasant of Abingdon, who was curbed by the martyr with a similar blow

We declare that we are certain of a miraculous and long-term blindness that came upon a peasant of Abingdon. Since many have turned from the reality of this miracle and have darkened truth’s brightness by a cloud of facetious lies, let the hearers know that by diligent investigation I have come upon the truth, such that they might be able to discern light from the darkness. The aforesaid peasant sought the martyr with his healthy wife and his sick brother, but his severity would not allow them to remain at Canterbury as long as they wished. Having loaded them into a cart against their will, he brought them back to the city of Rochester. He rejected the same lodging that he had stayed at when he came, having seen that several of the blind and disabled pilgrims of the saint had been received there. He said, “Far be from me to spend the night with the blind of St. Thomas. They are nothing to do with me.” He ordered his family to leave, despite their resistance, and he brought them to another house. Little by little, the Lord drew the darkness of blindness over the peasant’s eyes. By the next day, the one who had, the day before, shunned the blind going to the martyr as if they were a contagion, was wholly blind. He often went to the martyr afterwards, but once he was blinded, he reported that he, without light, was never once illumined from our light. Even to this day, he lives and does not see.

IV.35. Concerning the son of William de Benewella, to whom a similar misfortune occurred

This also happened to a boy, the son of William de Benewella,51 The place is unidentified. Robertson suggested Banwell. as a result of his father’s curse. He, having brought his blind father to Canterbury, did not wish to yield to his wish that they stay there for a time. He departed, and his father cursed him in this manner: “May the glorious martyr avenge my injury on you, you who abandon me, deprived of light, in a distant and unknown region. Since I cannot exist without you, and it is not your desire to stay with me, I will return with you to my house from which I departed. If you would stay here for a short time, you would perhaps see me sighted, but now, against my hope, I will leave as I came.” And so the son led the father away, and in the entrance to the city he lost the light of one of his eyes. Lamenting, he went on for another seven miles, until, wholly darkened by the darkness of blindness, he sat down in the middle of the king’s road with his father, whom he was leading. Having been given recompense by passersby, they were both led to Canterbury. However, afterwards they left without our knowledge, leaving us uncertain about their health.

IV.36. Concerning [Segiva]52 The caption writer gives her the name of Sara. who had borne an ear of rye in her esophagus for nearly three years

For nearly three years, Segiva, the daughter of a certain Richard of Essex, had borne about half an ear of rye in the mouth of her stomach. When she was playing with others on the threshing floor, she sucked a flying ear through her panting mouth into her throat. When the sickened girl was already judged to be dying, a certain dropsical woman arrived who was going to the martyr. She spent the night there. When she returned from Canterbury, entirely healed, she brought with her the water of the martyr, and she gave the drink to the imperiled girl. Suddenly the ear sprang up to the lower part of the throat, and there it sat some fifteen days. And so by divine will, and, as we believe, the virtue of the relic, the ear was expelled. It was covered in dense and coagulated blood as if it were a lump of bloody flesh.

IV.37. Concerning Matilda of Cologne, a demoniac

We saw a little woman filled with a demon, named Matilda, who was brought from the region of Cologne. We shuddered at her amazing raging in our presence. She tore to shreds the linen garment that alone covered her body, and with no mean strength she struck a blow on a certain person who wanted to move her away. She would have suffocated a young boy who came near her if he had not been quickly pulled away by the bystanders. And so, bound, she raged near the martyr for four or five hours, until the martyr regarded her with the favor of health. The evil spirit was expelled and left behind the indecent traces of its going. Returning to herself little by little, she was fully restored to wholeness by the next day. Speaking in her dialect, which we could hardly understand, she told us that she had seen the martyr in a dream. He was dressed in his pontifical vestments and had the crosswise trail of blood across his face that we have also mentioned in his Passion.53 See above, Passion, Extract VIII, and also below, IV.52. He inquired about the manner of her illness, and she revealed her suffering in body and mind to the questioner. Then the saint promised her health, charging her with a journey of pilgrimage to the dwelling of the apostles, or to the church of blessed James, promising her that in this way she would be released.54 In other words, Matilda was to make a pilgrimage to Jerusalem or to Compostela. We asked her how she had become insane, and she said that her brother had killed a young man who had loved her wrongfully. She was so seized by madness that she struck her little one, only baptized the day before, with her fist, and removed him from this world. And so she went away from the martyr healed and joyful, grieved only for the magnitude of her crime and its pardon.

IV.38. Concerning a penny the saint restored to a certain matron named Sibilla

For the sake of refreshment, it is pleasing to insert among the serious items even a few of the martyr’s sports, since to him even his sports are serious. The esteemed matron Sibilla was drawn into court before the judges concerning her dower, which her stepson wished to take away from her. A girl who had been cured of insanity by the martyr came and asked in the name of St. Thomas that she be given some money for food or clothing. The matron showed reverence for the name and granted a penny to the petitioner, at which point she knew and was quite certain that she had only a halfpenny left. We found her ready and eager to swear on relics that nothing remained in her purse except the halfpenny, so much so that we do not doubt that her simple word is to be believed. Later, when she was seated and waiting for the judges to arrive at a judgment on her case, she happened to put her hand in her purse, and she found a penny similar to the former one but of larger size.55 Unlikely our industrially produced coins made of base metals, medieval pennies were cut out of sheets of hammered silver. Being hand-made, they could vary in size. A larger penny had more silver content and so was more desirable than a smaller one. She marvelled greatly, and turning to a knight among those sitting there she said, “The penny I gave away for the martyr has been returned to me.” Other knights turned ears to these murmurings, and not a few lovers of novelty surrounded her. Realizing that it was not possible to hide what had happened, the woman openly confessed what she had before discovered in secret. She showed the penny to the many people standing there, and it was not seen without admiration, but no-one could separate it from the woman, for the silver was made more precious to her than gold, and this penny more than the finest of gold [Is 13:12].

IV.39. Concerning Richard, the cleric of the sheriff of Devon, to whom the martyr administered halfpennies according to his intent

I make note of a miracle not very dissimilar to the previous one. When Richard, the cleric of the sheriff of Devon, was going to visit the memorial of the blessed Thomas, he made a vow in his heart that when he was on pilgrimage, he would not deny anyone seeking alms who asked in the martyr’s name. So, he ordered one of his servants to obtain small change for him. He gave away all the farthings the servant had supplied and his soul was moved to realize that his provision was inadequate. He would either have to give each pauper a whole penny or he would have to break his heart’s vow.56 In the medieval period, a farthing was made by cutting a penny into quarters (a “farthing” means a fourth of a penny). A halfpenny was literally half a penny, made by cutting a penny down the middle. It would take a sharp chisel, a hammer, a hard surface, and some force to cut a penny into such pieces – not something easily done while on a journey. When a pauper came upon him and sought a payment in the saint’s name, he put his hand in his purse and pulled out a halfpenny. He met with a second beggar, and he found another halfpenny. A third came and received the same. A fourth poor man arrived, and the giver did not lack a fourth halfpenny. He presented a fifth halfpenny to a fifth postulant. Not being asked after that, he came to Canterbury: the way was traveled, the money expended. The esteemed man asserted to us with an oath that he was most certain that he had not brought a halfpenny with him.

IV.40. Concerning Ralph, the subprior of the church of St. Augustine, apostle of the English, whose pennies the martyr multiplied

He is more faithfully and firmly to be believed, because Ralph, the subprior of the church of St. Augustine, apostle of the English, or the church of the apostles Peter and Paul, outside the walls of the city of Canterbury, dedicated in honor of the apostles, but known by the name of the blessed Augustine57 The large and important Benedictine monastery of St. Augustine’s, founded in 598, was located very near Canterbury Cathedral and the monastery of Christ Church. – this Ralph asserts that something similar happened to him. Ralph was going to the city of Rochester on church business. He received five shillings58 There were no shilling coins in the medieval period. A shilling was a unit of account: it was another way to say twelve pennies. Reading that Ralph “received five shillings,” medieval readers would have understood that Ralph was given sixty pennies. for his expenses from the steward of the house, Haimo, son of Roger. Pennies were spent on horseshoes, on saddlecloths, and on his servants’ other business. He also gave out three halfpennies to paupers asking for alms for the love of the martyr. When he returned home after the business was concluded, he counted the pennies, and he found not only five shillings, but also three halfpennies above that sum. He called one of his servants to him and said, “Didn’t we spend those coins?” And he said, “We spent them in this and in that business, and you also gave three halfpennies to paupers for the name of the blessed Thomas.” “Then how,” he said, “did I bring back not only as much as I took away, but also three halfpennies over that sum?” And they marvelled, knowing that to their knowledge, no-one had returned the money they had spent nor had increased any reimbursement. We, like them, do not doubt this to be a miracle, considering the exact similarity between the amount given out in alms and the amount of superabundance.

IV.41. Concerning Henry, a youth of London, who transferred his goods to another ship when he was sailing from Norway as a result of the martyr’s admonition, and who was saved from the peril of death

Ships sailing from London went to the shores of Norway and were moored there. The ships were loaded with their various goods, and when they were preparing for their departure, the most pious martyr Thomas appeared to Henry, a young man of London, who was then resting on a bunk in one of the ships because he was suffering grievously from fevers. “Are you sleeping, young man?” he asked. He said, “I was sleeping, lord, but you woke me: who are you?” “I am Thomas, the archbishop of Canterbury. You must, in every possible way, guard against returning in the same ship in which you came. Board another, and you will escape imminent peril. That ship will break up on its return voyage and no-one will rescue his belongings from it, but you, if you comply with me, will also be freed from fevers.” The young man woke and then again fell asleep. Again the saint came in his dreams, and again ordered and impressed upon him what he had before. The young man related the warning he had received to one of his companions that he valued more than the rest. When both of them had transferred their goods to another ship, namely that of Rainier of London, they were brought to London by a favorable wind, and the feverish young man got rid of his fever in the middle of the voyage. But the ship that he had left ran blindly against rocks and was broken up. Those who had been in the ship left it and all its goods to the rocks and the waves, and leapt into a boat that they might at least save their souls. We heard these things from the young man, who came to offer to the martyr a gift of oblation with prayers of thanks.

IV.42. Concerning the ship that followed the sailors who had abandoned it without any navigator

From another man’s oblation, we learned of an unusual miracle of great piety. A man named Ailwin came from Bristol to the martyr, gave gold, and withdrew. When the monk who was sitting at the tomb noted that the oblation did not at all accord with the clothing of the man (for he was dressed very poorly), he called him back and asked why a pauper had presented gold to the saint. He said, “I made a vow to the martyr and have fulfilled it. When I was sailing from Ireland not long ago, my ship came upon quicksand and stuck fast in it. The harder we worked to get it out of danger, the more the sand pulled it in. When it was nearly submerged to the highest deck, in desperation we disembarked onto a little boat, hoping that our lives at least might be saved, for there was no hope for the preservation of the ship nor of our things. Then I said, ‘Thomas, martyr of God, if you have merit with God, if you can do it, if you ever performed another miracle, restore my ship to me. If you do this, I will visit your tomb and make an oblation of gold to you.’ And so, we left the ship and sailed off in the little vessel in order to escape to land. We went about eight furlongs from the ship, but as long and as hard as we rowed, the ship always seemed to be the same distance from us. We encouraged each other to the work in turns, but the farther we sailed, the closer we came to the ship. Stopping the useless labour, we waited a short time, and look! We came upon the ship that was coming without any navigator, that ship we had left with a spread-out sail and nearly sunk. We recovered it coming to us like an oblation from God, boarded it, and landed favorably without any damage. I have visited the martyr for this reason, and given gold.” When he had said these things, we believed him, though he lacked witnesses. We obtained evidence for truth from his simplicity and the poor correspondence of his oblation to his clothing. [See Parallel Miracles no. 3 for William’s account of this miracle.]

IV.43. Concerning another ship that the saint visibly freed

In our judgment, he is no less to be believed than three others who testified to a sign of no less magnitude. They said that they were in a ship that came into the same kind of peril at night. When, in fear of death, they had all cried out to the saint, and, kneeling down in the ship, had said the Lord’s Prayer, a man appeared to them in shining white garments walking upon the moving waves of the sea.59 See the story of Jesus walking on water to rescue a floundering ship: Matthew 14:22–36, Mark 6:45–56, and John 6:16–24. He took hold of the prow of the ship and thrust it back far into the sea, such that the sound of its wake could be heard far and wide. He then vanished from their sight. The three men stood as witnesses to this. They were prepared to certify to us with their hands on relics that they were in that ship and that, in the darkness, they saw that person with their eyes. [See Parallel Miracles no. 4 for William’s account of this miracle.]

IV.44. Concerning [Ailred],60 The caption reads “Alfred” rather than Ailred. a young man from Exeter, who was benevolently freed by the virtue of the martyr when he was entwined in an anchor’s rope and carried headlong

Tossed about in an extremely violent storm, other men were driven by a whirlwind into a most dangerous area of the sea that sailors call the Gatteraz.61 The Gatteraz is a rocky region offshore Gatteville in Normandy (near Barfleur) that has a strong current. It is sometimes spelled Catteraz (Benedict’s Latin is Cataras). The White Ship carrying the son and heir of King Henry I foundered in this area in 1120. In the ship was a young man from Exeter, Ailred, and a certain cleric in whose mouth the name of the martyr constantly resounded. The cleric said that there was nothing to be feared, because with his eyes he himself had seen the martyr in the ship. Greatly encouraged, the sailors threw out the ship’s anchor, but the ship was being driven by the heaving of the sea and the violence of the wind and the anchor’s rope ran out with force. As it ran, by chance it ensnared the leg and thigh of the above-mentioned young man and dragged him headlong. He said, “St. Thomas, martyr of God, since it does not please you to save my body, save my soul.” Three young men standing nearby seized the running line and the ring of the anchor was broken. The anchor was carried off into the deep, while the rope, with the young man, was held back. Where the rope had wrapped around his leg and thigh, the flesh had been abraded away all the way to the bone. This provides much to marvel at for those accustomed to peril at sea. For those who are expert in these matters, it is no small wonder that the ring of the anchor was broken and that a rope going out with such speed could be held back by only three men. In a storm it is usual for the anchor, not the ring, to be broken. Moreover, unless precautions are taken that it be sent forth in a certain way, a thousand men cannot hold back the rope from being carried off into the deep.

IV.45. Concerning a man of Dover, who recovered three lost anchors through the saint

Eilwecher of Dover was sailing to Brittany when a storm came upon him. He cast out three anchors and lost them all to broken ropes. Having invoked the martyr, he nevertheless escaped to land. When the sea was calm again, he returned with his companions to seek for the anchors, since the area in which he had lost them was not far from land. They hunted for them for three days and could not find them. One of them said, “We should promise to give a wax anchor to the martyr of Canterbury if he restores our iron ones to us.” All of them agreed. They put the implement with which they searched the bottom of the sea back into the water, and pulled out all the anchors. And so, returning to England, they came to the martyr, bringing with them the gift that they had promised. [See Parallel Miracles no. 5 for William’s account of this miracle.]

IV.46. Concerning other men freed from a storm on the sea by the martyr

A storm caught Ivo of Lynn and many other ships seeking the far-off region of Norway. A priest was sleeping in this Ivo’s ship, and the saint appeared to him and said, “Priest, do you sleep? Get up, and tell your companions that they should each say the Lord’s prayer for the soul of my father twenty times, and then none of you will perish.”62 This is an interesting early reference to Thomas Becket’s father, Gilbert Becket, who was of Norman origin and gained wealth by renting properties in London. A later legend held that Gilbert Becket went on Crusade and that his wife, Matilda, was the daughter of a Muslim ruler who followed him back to London: see John Jenkins, “St Thomas Becket and Medieval London,” History 105 (2020): 652–72, at pp. 668–72. It was done as he ordered, and, without any damage, they were favorably driven back to the port from which they had set out. All the rest of the ships were dispersed. Some were smashed and broken up, and not a few sunk. I received this story from Robert, a clerk of Lincoln, who escaped from that same danger in the same ship. There are many more tales of such sort, but one and the same food cannot be constantly taken without disgust.

IV.47. Concerning a certain ill man who asked for the saint’s water, drank water deceptively brought to him from a well, and was healed

A young man suffering with an acute illness was at the point of death. The anxious man asked for the martyr’s water from the friends in attendance. None of them had any. One of them ran to a well, filled a vessel, and brought it to him, saying, “Here is the water of the saint that you requested.” The ill man believed and drank, and, wholesomely deceived, he immediately regained his health. Shortly thereafter, the illness having left, he left his couch, and felt nothing adverse except for a weakness. The young man himself not only told us of these things, but also brought the one who drew the water from the well and others as witnesses.

IV.48. Concerning Warin, surnamed Grosso, whose swollen arm the saint beautifully healed in a dream

After bloodletting, the entire arm of a knight of Norfolk, Warin, surnamed Grosso, swelled up and hardened like a stone from the hand to the shoulder. The swelling seemed to extend into his chest and the region of his heart. You would hardly be able to tell how much smaller his arm was than his torso. Comparing their size, you would say there was little or no difference. Many plasters and salves were applied, but instead of receding, the swelling thrust out. The knight was despaired of, and careful watch was kept over him as if he were in extremis. The latest of medicines, the Canterbury remedy, was applied, and the arm of the dying man was washed several times with the wonderful water of the wonderful martyr. When the knight lay as if he were dying, it seemed to him that the martyr stood before him and said, “Get up, Warin, and prostrate yourself before me.” It seemed to him that he did as he was commanded. Then the saint said, “Do again what you have done.” He obeyed and heard a third time from the martyr, “You will do the same thing a third time.” Having done this, it seemed that the martyr turned to some people standing there and spoke these words: “Wipe away his sweat in the place of the blessed water.” With these words, the dying man suddenly roused himself and sat up, to the wonder of those who were caring for him. The pain having gone, he held out his arm, which before he had not been able to bend in any part, with the same agility as the other. Within six or seven days the swelling disappeared. Asked by the knight how I understood the words of the saint, I left a more subtle understanding of these things to the subtle and explained it simply to him in this way: “Wipe away his sweat, that is, take away the labor of his infirmity. Wipe away in the place of the blessed water, that is, I say, in the arm, where my blessed and holy water was placed.”

IV.49. Concerning a certain canon of Croxton, whose expelled eye was put back into its place by the water, without the touch of any hand

There was a canon in the valley of St. John of Croxton in the region of Leicestershire63 This is Croxton Abbey, also known as Croxton Kerrial, a Praemonstratensian community founded c.1160. by the name of Robert, a man full of days and reaching the age of decrepitude. Above his eye, he had a great swelling that appeared to be about to dislodge the eye – in fact, to expel it altogether.

One day, when he was sitting outside the choir with his eye greatly protruding, one of the brothers who happened to be passing by noticed that his face was bloody and his eye had come out and hung upon his face. He was brought to William, the abbot of the church, from whom I also received that which I tell,64 See Biographical Notes, William, abbot of Croxton Kerrial. Benedict may well have drawn this account (and that in the next chapter) from a letter written by the abbot. who was greatly alarmed and did not know what was to be done, for with the eye thrown out, the pupil seemed to be expelled from the white of the eye in an astonishing way. At last, he told the brothers who were there to lead him into the choir to the altar and wash the eye with the water of the blessed martyr, which was kept there, with this idea: that through the merits of the saint, the pupil might return to its place and the eye might be restored to its former state. He was led to the choir, washed with the sanctified liquid, and led back to the cloister. A person would scarcely have had time to go a furlong at a steady pace, when a certain person came to look at him who had not seen him with the eye pushed out. He pulled aside his cowl and found the pupil restored to the eye and the eye restored to its place. He turned to the abbot and said, “Why are you sad, lord? There is nothing wrong with this man except what was wrong before; there is nothing in addition to his former infirmity.” And for each and all this was a joyful wonder and a wonderful joy.

IV.50. Concerning another, a certain swollen man in the same abbey

In the same abbey, there was another greatly swollen up. To say it briefly, having tasted the martyr’s water, his stomach was brought back to its former slenderness.

IV.51. Concerning a certain canon of Bedford, on whose neck burning blisters emerged, which suddenly vanished by means of the martyr’s water

When the canons of the church of the blessed Paul of Bedford65 This is the Augustinian church of Bedford whose prior, Auger, was involved in Eilward of Westoning’s miracle: see above, IV.2. were sitting and speaking together in the cloister at the appointed hour, one of them, Stephen by name, felt something like a burning coal on his neck. He said to the canon who was sitting next to him, “Look and see what is burning my neck so badly.” He looked at him and said, “There is a blackish blister that looks very misshapen.” After a very short time, Stephen said again, “Look and see what it might be, for I am being terribly tormented and burned.” He looked and began to cry aloud to the blessed Virgin and Mother of the Lord, declaring that four blisters had now arisen that were exactly the same as the first. The bell having been rung, everyone hastened to the service, but pain was tormenting him, so he first went to the altar and wet his neck with the holy water of the holy martyr. He then returned to his own seat or station in the choir. All distress departed, and he found by touch that all the blisters had disappeared. The countess Rohese told these things to me as she had heard them from the same Stephen.66 See Biographical Notes, Rohese de Vere.

IV.52. Concerning Ingelram son of [Stephen]67 The caption reads “Ingelram son of Ingelram of Goulton,” providing the correct name of the boy (which, notably, Benedict never mentions – it seems the caption writer had knowledge of this miracle from another source), but reflecting Benedict’s incorrect understanding of the father’s name. William accurately gave his name as Stephen. See Biographical Notes, Stephen de Meinil. of Goulton, whose arm the saint struck with an affliction and afterwards cured in a dream

When great crowds were rushing to our martyr and were hastening from the cities to him, the same desire came in the mind of the wife of [Stephen] of Goulton,68 Benedict’s incorrectly text reads “the wife of Ingelram of Goulton.” In fact, her husband’s name was Stephen and her son’s name was Ingelram. See Biographical Notes, Stephen de Meinil. From a charter issued by Stephen, we know that his wife’s name was Joan. a knight of Yorkshire. She made this known to her lord and added, “Let us also bring our son with us.” The boy was standing and listening to his parents, and he responded to his mother’s words in this way: “I am healthy and well. What would I achieve with the martyr?” His father rebuked the boy’s foolish response and lifted his hand to strike him, but he did not hit or touch the fleeing boy. The boy left and occupied himself with scholarly matters, thinking the offence of his mouth to be nothing. That night, his arm was mortified and made completely insensible. He was not able to feel the application of either fire or iron. Though his arm was often pricked and scored by a needle, he felt nothing. The boy was sent by his parents to many places and many doctors were consulted concerning his case, but no help was found. His parents said, “Look, look: you have something to do with the martyr of Canterbury. Promise quickly what you dared to deny before.” And he promised. The following night, he saw the saint in his sleep. He had the track of blood running sideways across his nose from his forehead to his left jaw which we also saw on him when he lay in his church killed by the swords of the impious.69 For Benedict’s discussion of this line of blood on Becket’s face, see above, Passion, Extract VIII, and the story of Matilda of Cologne, IV.37. He said to the boy, “See to it, boy, that you give yourself to the religious life this year. Get up, be healed.” He spoke and so it was. Sleep lifted from his eyes, and he showed that the death of the arm, as one might say, was lifted from the arm as well. He stretched out his arm and, healed, he began the labor of the journey that he had thought to undertake while ill. We heard afterwards from the priest of that same village that the boy took on the religious habit at Fountains.70 Fountains Abbey was a Cistercian abbey in Yorkshire. For the grants that Ingelram’s father made to Fountains and his intent to become a monk there himself, see Biographical Notes, Stephen de Meinil. The position of this sentence is odd: it would have made more sense to say where the boy became a monk at the close of the chapter. This may indicate that Benedict was working from a written source or sources and/or that he decided to expand the story at some point. After the boy had returned home, the saint again appeared to him in his sleep, and again warned him that he was to give himself to a monastic order. The boy was answering him, and at brief intervals asking, “Where, lord? When, lord?” and much else along these lines. The parents heard the boy speaking with intervals of silence, but they could not hear the voice of the person he was speaking to. Nor was the person seen, yet a wonderful brightness lit up the whole house and chased away the shadows of night, such that they clearly saw the boy and the rest of the things in the house. They said to each other, “Let’s stay back: he sees something that we cannot see.” With the brightness fading, the boy awoke and told his parents what he had seen and heard, and a few days later, he devoted himself to the monastic life in the cloister that saint had assigned to him. [See Parallel Miracles no. 6 for William’s account of this miracle.]

IV.53. Concerning the swollen Mabel de Aglandre, who was judged incurable by doctors

At the castle of William de Vernon that is commonly called Néhou,71 See Biographical Notes, William de Vernon. The castle is referred to as Nean, Neaho, and Neau in various manuscripts of Benedict’s collection: see Robertson, MTB, vol. 2, p. 221 and Duggan, “Santa Cruz,” p. 54. Though Robertson read this as a reference to Neen in Shropshire, it must refer to William’s castle at Néhou in Normandy. a swelling rose up in the uterus of Mabel, daughter of Stephan de Aglandre,72 The place is unidentified. that had the hardness of a stone. For nearly three years, though doctors strove against it, it took root there. Many practiced in the art of medicine worked toward her cure, but all despaired and abandoned her as a hopeless case. She was brought to her bed tormented by such intense pain, with terrific and strange thrashing of her limbs, that it seemed to be pushing her over into insanity. For fifteen days she went without food, and yet two men could hardly hold her down in bed. Now she was too hot and then exceedingly cold; now the swelling grew, then it diminished; now she was fixed down and immobile, then she was loosened and in motion and hurled about here and there – these things followed on one after another. And so, while the girl was dying without death, one of those known to her, having come back from Canterbury, brought the water of the martyr. He urged her to lift up her mind to the blessed one that he might lift her up. She should raise prayers to him, that he might raise her from her bed. But she said, “He is not able to help me. He would certainly have helped if he could, for I have cried to him many times, and he did not hear me.” “Still press on,” he said, “make a vow to the martyr that you will go to his tomb casting off linen garments, disdaining a cart, and with bare feet.” And so she vowed and, as I remember, tasted the water of the martyr. In that very moment the tumor inside of her burst, and the corruption of her body flowed out through the uncorrupted virgin’s virginal passage, not little by little but in one gush: it was like thick black water, most foul. In that same hour the girl got up, trim and healed but weak. She soon wanted to fulfil her promise, but those close to her did not allow her to walk about much. They feared that by such exertion she, in her weakened state, might be brought back into grave peril. Clean coverings were put on her bed and she was forced to rest a few days. One of the doctors heard that Mabel had recovered, and he said, “Those who say this are lying. It is impossible that someone threatened with such an illness could escape death.” He came to see her. Hearing of her mode of healing, the happy man was astounded, and astounded, he believed.

IV.54. Concerning the dropsical Eliza of Middleton of Oxfordshire

Dropsy took hold of the pregnant Eliza of Middleton. From day to day, it increased the swelling of her uterus dreadfully. She fell into her bed and lay in a desperate state. Every time she turned onto her side, she heard a sound in her womb like the sound of many waters [Rv 19:6]. She took it to be waters by its husky-sounding murmur. No matter what herbs, tonics, or medicines were given to her, she received no strength, efficacy, or utility from them. The woman abandoned earthly medicines and invoked heavenly doctors. She vowed herself to the blessed martyr Edmund, to the admirable confessor Leonard, to the glorious virgin Margaret, and to others.73 St. Edmund (d.869) was one of England’s most prominent saints. Medieval hospitals were often dedicated to St. Leonard of Noblac, an early Frankish saint. The virgin martyr St. Margaret of Antioch was widely revered in medieval England. But just as the herbs did her no good, so none of the saints she invoked wished to aid her. She became agitated about her unborn child, preferring that it should be brought out into light than that her own life should be lengthened in such pain. She asked that her uterus be opened and the infant be extracted, so that although it was not born, yet it might be reborn by the health-giving font, and whether it lived or died it would be unto the Lord [Rom 14:8].74 Eliza’s idea was for her child to be extracted and immediately baptized, despite the fact that this would likely result in Eliza’s own death. If her child were stillborn or died in the womb, it could not be baptized, with grave consequences for its soul. However, no-one could be found who would perform this impious piety. She labored for five days as if she were giving birth, yet she could not move the fetus in her womb at all. Seven midwives were there, whose council was that the help of the Canterbury martyr be sought. She vowed that she would visit the martyr if she first felt a visit from him. These words were still in her mouth when the wonderful mercy of God descended upon her. For suddenly there was a great sound, heard through the whole house, that came from the womb of the prone woman. Whatever was inside her was ruptured, and a great amount of water sprang forth from the birth canal. The midwives’ hands were not able to bear its touch because of its heat. The woman thought she had given birth, and said, “There’s still one in my womb: unless I’m deceived, I have twins.” But her mother said, “Daughter, you still have the burden that you think is gone: you still have it in your womb.” A second and a third time, as before, a great deal of water came forth, such that it seemed to be able to fill two or three barrels. And so what had hindered the infant’s exit was ejected, and the woman gave birth to a boy. Regaining her health, she did not forget what she had promised to the holy martyr.

IV.55. Concerning a dropsical woman of Merston

I can also add a story about another case of dropsy concerning a woman of Merston, but lest the readers become weary when they ought to have pleasure, it will suffice to say just this: having inflated frightfully, by drinking the water of Canterbury and invoking the martyr, the swelling deflated and she regained her original size and beauty.

IV.56. Concerning a blind boy and an insane [girl]75 The caption writer has “woman.” from Wales

A woman from the borders of Wales, those who call themselves Britons, was leading a little boy blind from birth and an insane girl. The girl was restored in mind on the road. The boy was improved at Canterbury to the point that I do not dare to say whether he was blind or not, for when a light was held before his eyes, he could follow it here and there, but he still could not see the path he walked on. I say this about it, because I do not want to appear to magnify fringes [Mt 23:5] by speaking much about little things. Several people have done this both with regard to this boy and to another young man, William of Horsepool near Sherwood, who was wholly unknown to us. He said that he came blind, but he produced no witness or person to attest to his blindness. I confess I saw him seeing when he left, but I did not see him blind when he came. Although he lingered with us for many days so that his vision might improve, it seemed to me that he always remained in the same state.

IV.57. Concerning the insane Walter of Grimsby

A clerk of Hatcliffe near Grimsby named Walter was of unsound mind for five weeks. The devotion of his friends and relatives procured his health for him from the martyr. Having vowed that they would take him to the saint, he soon recovered his reason, and he gave himself to the promised journey.

IV.58. Concerning dogs silenced with the name of the martyr

Among the other miracles of the blessed and glorious friend of God Thomas, we can tell of what we read of Martin, namely this: in addition to the miracles Martin performed himself, many were also done in his name.76 St. Martin of Tours (d.397), a soldier, hermit, and bishop, was one of the most popular saints of the medieval period. He was renowned for cutting his cloak in two and giving one half to a beggar. I will first describe what happened to me. Driven by urgent necessity, I was traveling by night accompanied by only one servant. Three dogs came upon us, barking most fearfully, and they followed on relentlessly, making us tremble and pale with fear. I call the Lord as my witness that I was terribly afraid that they might injure me or pull the boy off his horse and tear him in pieces, for it is natural for dogs to be more savage and ready to bite at night than in the day. By chance I remembered that in the Life of the blessed Martin, I had read of someone who had silenced the mouths of barking dogs in Martin’s name.77 The story is found in Sulpicius Severus’ Dialogues: see Sulpicius Severus: The Complete Works, III.3, p. 233. And so, I turned to the dogs and said, “In the name of blessed Thomas, be silent.” I speak in Christ before God: all of them suddenly became mute. After this statement, not one of them barked even once. You would think that their mouths had been stopped up or their tongues cut out; they fled as if they had received blows by those words. To my wonder, the same thing happened to me a second time on the same night. By God as my witness, I do not tell these things on my own account, nor do I seek my own glory, but that of the martyr. Moreover, something of equal or greater wonder also happened to Roger the monk, who was similarly assigned to the care of the sacred body.78 See Biographical Notes, Roger, monk of Christ Church, Canterbury.

IV.59. Concerning Eda of Scotland, who could not walk, and who rose and walked by means of a monk commanding her in the name of the saint

Eda, a venerable woman of Scotland with illustrious relations, had a most grave infirmity that settled in her knee and deprived her of the ability to walk. For ten years she had not been able to take a step and reclined in a cloak or some sort of covering: that which supported her in mind also bore her in body. She was brought to Canterbury on a bed and placed near the martyr’s tomb. On the third day, it happened that as she rested near the sepulchre, she asked for a drink of the health-giving water. The monk refused unless she got up and came to him. She said, “For ten years, lord, I have not taken a step. How can I now to come to you?” To this, the monk said, “In the name of the martyr, I command that you get up and come to me.”79 This passage echoes Christ’s command to a paralyzed man lying on a bed to get up (see Matthew 9:6 and Mark 2:11) and his similar command to an ill man lying on a bed (see John 5:8). Marvelous to see and delightful to hear, she immediately got up and not only came to the monk, but also circled the tomb three times and walked a long way from the tomb, though she was only able to walk on tiptoe. On the following day she was able to plant her whole foot on the ground. Though she did not dare to relinquish her bed at the beginning of her healing, she scorned it on her return and went home mounted on a horse. She progressed little by little from day to day, and a great gain of health followed.

IV.60. Concerning [Hugo]80 The caption writer has Henry rather than Hugo. de Tukin, exhausted by a fistula

Hugo de Tukin,81 The place is unidentified. a knight from a manor in France, which by its own name is termed Provins, presented himself healed to our martyr. He had been wounded in the jaw with a lance and a fistula had taken root in the same spot. It pervaded his jaw and extended all the way to his eyebrows and his forehead. Doctors with great expertise labored toward his cure. Cutting the flesh of his jaw, they scraped the bones and applied medications. Having done all this, they gave up and departed, declaring him incurable. By chance it happened that a cleric came into that region carrying the water of the martyr. The knight drank and washed the putrid jaw. In about eight days, the fistula was dried up, the flesh had amalgamated, and the skin had come together. Healed in a short time, he visited the martyr.

IV.61. Concerning [Melania]82 The caption writer has Metania rather than Melania. of Fontenay, who had a similar fistula

For six years, a fistula disfigured the jaw of Melania, the wife of William of Fontenay. She went about eight furlongs to a place where she had heard the water of the saint was held, washed her jaw, and returned home. Before she had reached her home, the fistula disappeared, the wound was invisible, and the woman found herself completely healthy.

IV.62. Concerning a boy of Rochester who fell in the water

Little Robert, son of Liviva of Rochester, was playing with boys when, by chance, he fell into the river Medway and was pulled under.83 This miracle is portrayed in Canterbury Cathedral window nII: see Caviness, Windows, pp. 195–6. Originally a six-panel story, only the first three panels have survived. For the imagery of the first panel, the glaziers amalgamated little Robert’s story with that of another drowned boy, Philip Scot: see below, IV.66. The playing boys scattered, shouting that little Robert was submerged in the river. A large crowd amassed and searched for the boy, but he was not found. The mother of the lost boy also ran there, crying and saying, “Thomas, glorious martyr of God, return my son to me!” She kept saying only this. The boy had fallen in the water at nones, and he was pulled out with an iron hook as the bells were ringing for vespers.84 The monastic services of nones (at the “ninth hour”) is held in the middle of the afternoon, while vespers is at sunset. The exact amount of time between the services varied according to the time of year. He had fallen in the water when the tide had filled the river up to its banks. When he was pulled out, the tide had almost receded completely. The pallid boy was suspended by his feet, his rectum was stopped up, and a wedge was put in his mouth to allow the salty water with which he was swollen to flow out. He had no voice or feeling, and not a drop of water emerged. He was spun in a tub to bring on nausea, and was worked on up until the beginning of the coming night without any effect. The boy lay without the breath of life such that many said he was dead. Then the mother, invoking the martyr, measured the boy with a thread, and promised the martyr a thread of silver of that length for the life of her son. Straightaway, he vomited out what had been suffocating him and was suddenly restored to health. The next day he went out to play with the boys as usual. Although we are able to say that he was submerged from nones, when he fell in the river, all the way to vespers, and that he lived without breath, yet we will desist on account of the jeers of the mockers. We do not wish to test the great deeds of the martyr by argument, since those things that are clear do not need proof. He who weighs this miracle lightly, let him note how that saint magnified it by a similar miracle.

IV.63. Concerning a boy of Sarre who was submerged in a bath

Two small children were sitting in a bath, one about three years old, the other about six months old. The mother, hoping that the older would take care of the younger, went to the threshing floor to do some winnowing. The older one got out in order to play, but the younger was submerged in the bath. The mother had winnowed the chief part of the barley when she ordered that a dish should be brought to her. A girl running to do so became the bearer of sad news: namely, that the baby boy was under water. The mother paled as she heard this, and, taking the baby out of the bath, she brought him outside of the house and cast him in the street. The women of the neighborhood hastened to the crying and lamenting mother. Nearly all of the men had gone off to fish or to reap. They suspended the child by its feet and vainly attempted to bring him back to life. One of her neighbors, who had returned from Jerusalem, said to her, “Why put in this pointless effort? Bury the baby: it has been a long time since its spirit was expelled.” Then one of the widows said, “Do we not have five widows here? Let us invoke the blessed martyr Thomas nine times on our knees, and repeat the Lord’s Prayer nine times in his name, and he may listen.” And so it was done, but the boy did not get up. One of them said to the mother, “Run, get a thread, measure the child, and promise a candle of the length to the martyr.” When this was done, blood and water immediately came out of the dead one’s mouth, and soon afterwards the boy screwed up his eyes and began to howl. The name of the young boy was Gilbert, the mother Wulviva, the father Ralph, son of Brithwin of Sarre. I went to the village of Sarre that I might carefully sift out the truth, and know from the testimony of those who were there that the martyr truly raised him from the dead and returned him to his mother.85 The village of Sarre is less than fourteen kilometers away from Canterbury. He was submerged in the bath from the third all the way to the sixth hour. After being pulled out at the sixth hour, he lay without the breath of life until the tenth or eleventh hour, until finally, as was said above, he was resuscitated and lived again. It may be that someone among the detractors dares to deny this, the assertion that a six-month-old infant could live without breath for half a day, for he who is incredulous both speaks and acts faithlessly. Let him hear what follows, so that, converted, he may repent, or, confounded, he may be shamed.

IV.64. Concerning the dead son of Jordan son of Eisulf

The hand of the Lord came down heavily on a knight of great name, Jordan son of Eisulf,86 See Biographical Notes, Jordan son of Eisulf. The miracle relating to Jordan’s sons is told in nine panels in Canterbury Cathedral window nII: see Caviness, Windows, pp. 197–9. striking his house with pestilence from the time of August to Easter. Very many were ill in his house, and no-one could help them. The nurse of his son William, who had the second name Brito,87 On William Brito, see Biographical Notes, Jordan son of Eisulf. was struck by the disease, died and was buried. The third day after the nurse’s death, the Lord also struck the ten-year-old boy with the same illness. He was taken from them on the seventh day at about the third hour.88 In other words, mid-morning on the seventh day after the nurse died. A priest came, and he commended the boy’s soul into the hand of the Creator and performed the usual ecclesiastical rites for the dead. All that day and the following night a vigil was kept over the boy as over a corpse. I will not speak of the parents’ terrible grief because even a simple man will be able to imagine it.

On that same day, about twenty pilgrims returning from the memorial of the martyr arrived there. For the love of the martyr, the father extended hospitality to all of them, and until the following day, when they wished to leave, he provided them with rest and refreshment. A priest came to take the lifeless body to the church and convey it to burial. But the father said, “My son will certainly not be carried away. My heart predicts that the martyr Thomas does not want me to lose him, for I was his man while he lived and his close friend.”89 There is no mention of Jordan son of Eisulf in surviving correspondence or the lives of Becket, but the archbishop had a large range of connections, and it is possible that Jordan had some kind of relationship with the living Becket. Having received the water of the martyr from the pilgrims, he said to the priest, “Pour it into his mouth, and perhaps the martyr will return my son to me.” The priest admired the faith behind this request, though he thought the father might be out of his mind. He poured in the water, and the boy did not get up. The burial of the lifeless corpse was delayed to the tenth or eleventh hour as the father awaited what the Lord would do. The priest, suspecting that this was the will of someone out of his head, said to him, “Lord, why should the burial of the dead be delayed? It is already nearing the end of the second day after the boy died.” But he said against this: “My son will certainly not be buried, for my heart testifies truly in this: he will be returned to me by the martyr Thomas. Bring the water of my lord.” After it was brought, he went to the body and uncovered it. He lifted his head, separated his clenched teeth with a knife, and poured in the water. As soon as the water went in, a slight rosiness appeared in the middle of the left side of his face. This greatly gladdened the father, and he poured in the water again, this time holding the boy erect in such a way that the water could travel down his throat. The boy opened one of his eyes, and seeing his parents wet with tears, he spoke, saying, “Why do you cry, father? Why do you weep, mother? Don’t be sad, for the blessed martyr Thomas has returned me to you.” Having said these things, he went silent, and said nothing more up to vespers. His father said, “Quick: bring four silver coins.” He bent two of them for himself and his wife and two for the revived boy. He placed the coins in the boy’s right and left hands, promising that he would offer the boy to the martyr at mid-Lent, and those sitting there observed him. As twilight came on, the boy sat up, took food and drink, spoke, and, returned to his parents, he became well.

The end of the period fixed for carrying out the vow was reached, but its execution was put off to another time because of some interfering hindrance. And so the martyr of the Lord, Thomas, appeared in the sleep of a certain leper who lived some three miles distant from the knight’s home and was wholly ignorant of these matters. He said, “Gimp, do you sleep?” (for we heard that this was the name of that leper). He replied, “I was sleeping, but you have woken me. Who are you?” And the martyr said, “I am Thomas the archbishop of Canterbury. Do you know Jordan the son of Eisulf?” “Very well, lord, for he is a very good man who has given many gifts to me.” Then the saint said, “Go and tell him from me that the time he determined has passed and he has not performed his promised vow. He should hurry to Canterbury and render his vow for his son, whom the Lord restored to life by my intervention. If he does not set out on this journey quickly, I will bring down evil upon him and his wife. To the same degree that he received joy from me through the resurrection of his son, so he will acquire sorrow from the loss of another.” The leper replied, “Nearly twenty years have gone by, lord, in which I have not seen the light of the sky, and I am bedridden with bad feet. How can I go to the knight’s house?” When he woke, the leper did not weigh what he heard as important and did not do what the martyr had told him to do. And so the martyr appeared to him again, and said, “Why haven’t you done the things I told you?” “Lord, I cannot,” he said, “I am bound by blindness and disability.” And the saint said to him, “Call your priest, and put my words in his mouth so that he can tell the knight all the things that I have commanded.” The leper summoned the priest and said to him, “The martyr of Canterbury has commended these things to you.” But the priest said, “It was a dream. Am I to tell tales and trifles from dreams to such a man? He is powerful and a great man, and would take a story like this, and its teller, as mockery. You will not get me to bring a message like this to him.” A third time the saint stood before the leper, and said, “Why hasn’t what I ordered been done?” “Lord,” he said, “I told your orders to the priest, and he scorned to hear them. What more can I do?” The saint responded, “In the morning, send your daughter to fetch the knight and his wife, and they will certainly come to you. But when they come, I warn you: do not hide from them a single word I have said to you.” In the morning they were called, they came, and were amazed at what they heard. They therefore fixed a date which they would not go pass, namely the last week of Lent. However, with the arrival of the count of Warenne, the knight’s lord,90 See Biographical Notes, Hamelin de Warenne. they delayed the pilgrimage, turned themselves aside, and did not keep their pact.

When the last day of the agreed-on time came, namely the Holy Saturday that precedes Easter, the Lord struck another son of the knight with a severe sickness. This boy was dearer to them and a little older than the one who had been brought back to life. The next day, the parents themselves were taken ill, confined to bed, and despaired of. The disease gathered strength in the boy, and he slept in death on the seventh day, the Friday of Easter week.91 Given the placement of this miracle at the beginning of William’s collection (which he started in June 1172), this miracle all but certainly occurred in 1172. In 1172, the date of Easter was April 16, and the Friday of Easter week, the date of the elder son’s death, was April 21. The son’s death increased the illness of the parents, especially in the case of the father, who had dearly loved the boy because his features so closely resembled his father’s.92 That is, the features of Eisulf, the man so important in establishing the dominance of the family in the West Riding. See Biographical Notes, Jordan son of Eisulf. Seeing that the things that the saint had proclaimed through the leper were fulfilled, he said to his wife, “Look, my lady, at the sorrow our delay has brought to us. Oh, such sorrow! We certainly delayed too long. We made a false promise to the martyr, for the second time, and look at the result: we lost our son. The punishments he promised have also descended on us, and we must expect a similar end. I prayed to the martyr for the other son, and he returned him to us, but how will we pray for this one or for ourselves? I do not dare to ask the offended martyr for anything more before I perform my vow. So, let us hurry, lest something worse happen to us.”

Wonderful to relate, in that same moment the illness of both of them was lessened. Hearing that they were preparing themselves for a journey, some of their friends came and advised that they should not give themselves to such a labor when they were weak and ill, especially not the mother of the family, whose sickness was more dangerous. They feared that the journey’s exertion might ripen the sickness into death. But the knight said, “If we live or we die, both of us will go to the martyr. I will go alive, or I will be brought there as a corpse. My wife, too, will be brought to the martyr alive or be carried there dead. If he doesn’t want us living, he will have us lifeless.” In the knight’s household, some twenty men were also ill, of whom some had been bedridden for seventeen weeks, some for twenty weeks, some for twenty-six or twenty-seven weeks, and some twenty-nine or thirty weeks. Before setting out, he gave each one a drink of the water of the martyr that he had, and the taste administered health and brought vigor to them all. Everyone got up from his bed and no-one was left lying down. None of them failed to escort the departing lord a long distance outside the gate or at least all the way to it. His wife, who had fallen in a faint seven or more times on the first day on account of the toil of the journey, dismounted from her horse when she saw the pinnacle of the temple of Canterbury. She hastened on bare feet to the martyr’s tomb, some three miles away, and was not troubled by the exertion. And so, the parents came together barefoot along with their boy. In the midst of floods of tears, they rendered to the martyr the vows that their lips had made.

Consider this one miracle and you will perceive four performed in one. A boy two days dead came back to life; warnings and threats of the saint were repeated three times; the vengeance that the saint had predicted came to pass; everyone who had sickened in the household of the knight suddenly became well. We secretly wrote about these things to his priest, and he brought forward testimony to the truth, writing back that the boy was definitely dead and resurrected from the dead by the water of the martyr. What testimony do we still ask for? Is this not enough for the commendation of the martyr? Oh martyr of great merit! Oh great merits of the martyr! Oh the depth of the riches of the wisdom and of the knowledge of God! How incomprehensible are his judgments, and how unsearchable his ways! [Rom 11:33]. Who would have ever imagined this surpassing excellence of merits? This worthiness of the martyr? This singular similarity between Christ and the martyr? For in the same way that Christ’s blood saves the soul from eternal death and confers on it life eternal, so the martyr’s blood gave earthly life to a lifeless body. Since there is no miracle more glorious than bringing the dead to life, what has been written should suffice. To go on from a miracle such as this to one of less wonder would be like setting poor coarse food before diners after a delicious feast. However, since – as the blessed Gregory says – among daily luxuries even common foods have a more agreeable taste, such that when poor food is consumed, one may, by adverse reaction, the more eagerly return to more delicate feasts,93 Here Benedict adapted a passage from the preface to the Homilies on Ezekiel: see Patrologia Latina, vol. LXXVI, cols. 785A, and Homilies on the Book of the Prophet Ezekiel by Saint Gregory the Great, trans. Theodosia Tomkinson (Etna, CA, 2008), p. 23. it is pleasing to place the lesser next to the greater, and to ward off distaste, as it were, by a variety of dishes. However, I will first add two miracles to this preceding one, miracles concerning two who were thought to have died that are no less wonderful nor much inferior in magnitude. [See Parallel Miracles no. 7 for William’s account of this miracle.]

IV.65. Concerning the daughter of Jordan of Plumstock, who was thought to be dead

And so, in the diocese of Norwich, the fifteen-year-old girl Cecilia, daughter of a certain Jordan of Plumstock, was struck by cancer. While the modesty of a virgin made her wish to bear the pain rather than reveal her shame, the disease crept up bit by bit until it consumed her thighs and buttocks, to the point that the junctions of the bones were laid bare and the joining of the sinews were exposed. At last, when her bloodless face showed her to be unwell, her parents asked what she suffered, and elicited reports of great pain. The size of the ulcers was equal to the length of a foot. They emitted such a terrible stench that her mother desired her death, her family members avoided her presence, and the neighbors shrank from entering the house in which she lay. The ulcers of the devouring cancer were wrapped in bandages that needed to be changed every hour because of the great amount of pus the ulcers exuded. She was not able to sit or lie down, but instead supported herself on her knees and elbows and fell forward on her face. Suffering in this way from the time of harvest to the month of March, she was brought to the end of life. For three or four days she took no food or water, but lay on a couch, leaning against a wall with her knees drawn together and her eyes open and unblinking. She seemed to take on the look of something neither living nor dead. Those seeing her thought she had been rapt out of her body, remembering a certain woman of the region, named Agnes, who, a few days before, had been rapt in her spirit as she slept, and for five days had been led about by the blessed Catherine and shown the rewards and punishments of the dead.94 The virgin martyr St. Catherine of Alexandria was a very popular saint in medieval Europe. The story of Agnes’ vision bears comparison with Benedict’s account of the vision of Orm (see above, I.4). And so, thinking that she too had been drawn from her body, they kept watch over her with hope of her return.

And so it happened that while the girl lay unmoving, a woman of the area who loved her dearly came to her at the beginning of night. Believing that she was truly dead, she exclaimed, “You have done an evil deed, you who allowed this girl to die in her bed: why didn’t you lay her out on a hairshirt, as is the Christian custom for the dying? You have acted thoughtlessly.” And so she was carried into an outer building and exposed on the ground. Her limbs were rigid, her body cold, her eyes staring, the sinews of her knees contracted, and altogether she was as hard and stiff as if she were dead. Her legs could not be stretched or straightened out. And so a linen cloth was put over the corpse, and candles were lit as for a funeral. But the father, who had thrown himself down elsewhere, tormented by both pain and suffering, was woken from sleep and ran in, crying, “Surely my daughter is not dead?” “It is true,” said the mother, “she is dead.” Then he said, “O blessed Thomas, martyr of God, now repay my service, I who once attentively rendered service to you. Repay my service! Necessity now presses. I once zealously served you before you were given worldly honors. Repay my service! Remember, blessed martyr, how you were once ill in Kent in the house of Turstan the cleric and how I served you there.95 See Biographical Notes, Turstan of Croydon. You were not able to drink wine, cider, ale, or anything that could make one drunk, and I hunted throughout that whole region for whey for you to drink. Repay my service! You then had just one horse, and I looked after it. Martyr, repay my service, remembering all the work that I bore for you. Repay my service! You do not want me to have served you for nothing.” He passed nearly half the night crying out in this way. He so often repeated “Repay my service” that his throat was stopped up by hoarseness. The devotion of the martyr approved of the prayers of the supplicant, and, lest he seem to be ungrateful for all his service, he restored the girl to her former health. For suddenly, as she lay beneath the cloth covering her, she put up her hand and pulled it off herself. When she tried to speak, though, she was not able to say anything intelligible on account of her extreme weakness. The following day, she was revived by food and drink. Within three days, even her cancerous thighs had dried up, and in three weeks, without any kind of earthly medicine, she was better.

With these events marvelously completed, the aforesaid man, the father of the girl, went to William, the bishop of Norwich,96 See Biographical Notes, William Turbe, bishop of Norwich. telling him about the matter and asking for a letter of testimonial. But the bishop did not immediately have faith. He called the priest and those present who had seen the affair, and learned of the whole thing in order, so that by the certification of their testimony, he might be able to stand as a witness for the events. He also called in two married women of good repute who examined the vestiges of the cancer, and he proved her to be most healthy. Therefore he sent letters to us signed by his seal.97 Bishop William had prior experience investigating the miracles of William of Norwich: see Thomas of Monmouth, The Life and Passion of William of Norwich, ed. and trans. Miri Rubin (London, 2014), VI.10, p. 158. Although the letter brings forward testimony that she was dead and laid on the ground, yet it touches on some things too briefly which are treated more sufficiently, as we believe, by us above. The manner of the letter is as follows:

“William, by the grace of God bishop of Norwich, to his venerable brothers in the Lord, the prior and the holy convent of Canterbury: eternal salvation in Christ.

We desire with all desire to inform your holiness of the wonders of God that are happening in our diocese to people afflicted with various illnesses who direct all their devotion to St. Thomas and offer pure invocations of their hearts to him. When God does not wish to hide the things which glorify his saint, how can one presume to conceal them among men? We have heard from the testimony of William, a priest of our region, and many of our men, that the bearer of this letter, Cecilia, the daughter of one of our men, was held by the sickness of cancer for a long time. The disease spread implacably about her thighs, and at last she was so oppressed by the worsening illness that she was thought to be lifeless and was placed on the floor in the manner of a corpse. Her father’s soul was turned to bitterness, but still trusting in divine mercy and the merits of the most blessed martyr, he burst out in a voice filled with suffering. With a most devoted mind, he invoked the saint of the Lord and begged for the restitution of health to his daughter by the will of divine grace. And so she was restored to her earlier health by the merits of the most blessed martyr, and to the glory of such a miracle we send her to you with our written testimony. Farewell.” [See Parallel Miracles no. 8 for William’s account of this miracle.]

IV.66. Concerning the drowned son of Hugh de Benedega

On a manor in the region of Warwickshire called Benedega,98 The place is unidentified. In William’s account of the miracle, Hugh Scot and his son live in Cheshire rather than Warwickshire. Hugh surnamed Scot was held to be of good repute and reputation among his neighbors. His son, Philip, was about eight years old. As boys do, he was throwing stones to crush toads that were coming out of a deep iron mine filled with water when, by chance, he fell in and was himself overwhelmed by water.99 Canterbury’s glaziers utilized the imagery of toads coming out of water and boys throwing stones at them Canterbury Cathedral window nII: see Caviness, Windows, p. 195. When his father came home and discovered that he was not there, he sought for him everywhere. He found him submerged in the water, and he pulled him out as the sun was setting. The boy was greatly distended with water and was lifeless, as he still believes. The corpse was brought into the house, and the common people gathered as one and sympathized with the anxious sorrow of the parents. Useless attempts were made to see if human help could bring him aid. The boy’s very large tunic, wide enough for two boys, could not be pulled off of him because of the size of his distended stomach. It was cut from top to bottom. They hung the boy from his feet and struck his soles, but with the water failing to flow out, hope fell away from them. With the boy laid out on a table and a fire kindled in the hearth on either side, they watched over him until morning.

When the sun rose, by the advice of the mother they sent to the next village, and water of the blessed martyr Thomas was brought back. When the mother inserted a spindle into the boy’s closed mouth to separate his clenched teeth, by accident she also inserted one of her fingers. When she pulled the spindle out, her finger was caught and nearly pierced through when his teeth came together. When she cried out, the father put a little knife between his teeth, but before he was able to free the mother’s trapped finger, he had broken two of the front teeth, those that are called incisors. Some of those present wanted to call a priest so that the last rites could be performed and the boy buried. But the father protested, saying, “So help me God: unless the blessed Thomas restores him to me alive, he will have him dead at Canterbury. I will either bring him there alive or carry him there dead: he will not be buried here.” When the water was poured in for both the first and the second time, it came out again, not finding an open passage. But when it was put in a third time, by divine will it descended down into his insides, and suddenly his muscles were seen to twitch. The boy unclenched his closed fist, drew it up little by little, and opened one of his eyes. His father, joyful to an inexpressible degree, said, “Son, do you wish to live?” He replied, “I do wish it, my father.” Those who were standing about were still lamenting over the horrible swelling of his stomach, but it subsided little by little. In the sight of all, it recovered its natural size and slenderness, and yet not a drop of water had flowed out from his body, neither from the upper nor the lower parts. We know without doubt that this boy had died not only by the declaration of his father and many others, but also from the testimony of letters from his priest. [See Parallel Miracles no. 9 for William’s account of this miracle.]

IV.67. Concerning the wife of Peter de Arches, who had a flux of blood

The wife of a knight, namely Peter de Arches,100 See Biographical Notes, Peter de Arches. suffered from hemorrhoids for a long time. When she was lying down she could not get up by herself. Her husband put her on a litter and brought her to Canterbury. When she was brought into the churchyard, the sought-after grace of the martyr immediately appeared, for the woman at once got up from the bed. The martyr restored her in an upright and healthy state to the knight, and kept the litter for himself. Having abandoned her bed, she reverenced the saint, showing him to be worthy of her reverence by her speedily granted wellbeing.

IV.68. Concerning Gerard of Flanders, who had kidney stones

Gerard of Samford, a knight of Flanders,101 A knight Gerard from Flanders appears twice in William’s collection: see William of Canterbury, Miracula, III.21, p. 280 and VI.72, pp. 470–1. knows from experience how much distress is suffered by a person with kidney stones. One night when he got up needing to urinate, a stone blocked the way and he was tormented almost to death. He thought that he would not live a single hour. Because of the intensity of his distress, he was not able to stay still in one place. He invoked the Lord, he invoked the blessed Virgin and Mother of the Lord, he also invoked many saints: finally, he invoked the martyr Thomas. Marvellous and nearly incredible to relate, except that no word is impossible with the Lord [Lk 1:37], at the same time the name of the martyr exited his mouth, he felt the stone exit from his penis. He rested, and the next morning got up and searched for the stone. He was able to find one half of it but not the other. It was like half of an almond nut, and in the hands of those handling it, it broke into grains like sand.

IV.69. Concerning the smith Geoffrey, who worked at an inappropriate time and whose fingers adhered to his palm

It happened that Geoffrey, a smith of Linby, was making a knife’s blade on St. Peter’s Chair-Day, contrary to the reverence owed to the feast.102 This feast, honoring Peter the apostle as the first pope, is celebrated on February 22. When he had ground it to perfection with the strop, the apostle, to whom was given the power of binding and losing,103 See Matthew 16:19, where Christ gives Peter the apostle the power of binding and loosing. so bound him that his little finger was suddenly inflexible and stuck to his right palm. On the next day when he got up from bed, he found that the next smallest finger, that is the leech or the ring finger, was also stuck to his palm. This punishment for untimely work continued to the time of Easter, and in the meantime, he was unable to do the work of a smith. He went to the martyr, came to the tomb, and his little finger was released. On the following day, he again touched the tomb, and gained the release of the other finger, though the area where the fingers had cohered to his palm remained peeled of flesh. And so what Peter bound, the martyr loosened, and he followed the same order in loosening as the apostle had in binding. First came the restitution of the first finger to be taken away. He regained his fingers on successive days, for he had lost them not on one day but on two.

IV.70. Concerning the dropsical William of St. David’s

A stomach flux weakened a youth of St. David’s, William surnamed Crispin, for fifteen days. The flux next turned to constipation, the constipation into a swelling, and the swelling into dropsy. No-one could easily describe the full extent of his gross thickness and no-one could satisfy his thirst. He was given only very modest and sparing amounts to drink, but at length, it seemed hopeless. The signs of death were clearly becoming visible on his face. A priest was called, and he received the viaticum. Having fed on the body of the Lamb of Bethlehem, he asked that he might drink the blood and water of the lamb of Canterbury.104 As part of the last rites, priests would put the viaticum (another name for the bread of the Eucharist, considered to be the body of Christ) into the mouths of the dying. Here Benedict is comparing the Eucharist and Christ (“the Lamb of Bethlehem”) to the blood-and-water relic of Becket (“the lamb of Canterbury”). An ampulla was brought, and he himself poured water into the ampulla because it did not seem sufficient in itself to quench his multiplied thirst. He drank down everything in a first cup and in a second. He had drunk half of a third when the water rebounded in vomit, drawing out all of the disease and the seeds of the disease with it. What came out was so gummy that it seemed to excel the stickiest glue for gumminess. That same day the youth was made most slender and was freed from all distress, and in three days, restored to full vigor, he started on his journey to the martyr.

IV.71. Concerning Juliana of Godmersham, whose arm was mortified

There is a manor of the church of Canterbury which in English is called Godmersham,105 Godmersham is located about fourteen kilometers away from Canterbury. where the left arm of a certain Juliana, daughter of Edilda, was withered. Her fingers were inseparably stuck together, the thumb lay conjoined to the palm, and the arm always hung at her side wholly insensible. Brought to the sepulchre of the martyr, she suddenly sank down as if afflicted by a defect of the heart, and her fingers separated from each other seemingly in the space of a single moment. Her thumb was released from the palm and the whole arm was brought back to life.

IV.72. Concerning Elias, monk of the church of Reading, who was struck, it was thought, with leprosy

The person who wishes to know of the disease and means of cure of the monk Elias should convene with the holy convent of the church of Reading.106 Canterbury’s medieval glaziers pictured the leprous monk Elias being examined by doctors, a panel now in Canterbury Cathedral window sVII: see Caviness, Windows, pp. 212–13. For discussion of Elias’ miracle, see Rachel Koopmans, “Thomas Becket and the Royal Abbey of Reading,” The English Historical Review 131:1 (February 2016): 1–30, esp. 11–15 and 28–9. Many who were most skilled in the art of medicine said that he was struck with a terrible leprosy. The signs were runny and teary eyes, ulcerated limbs, and scales over his entire body: when he rose in the morning, you would see his bed covered in them. I leave his description to those servants of God, for something that is unmistakable needs no proof. Greatly distressed, and not knowing how he might go to the blessed Thomas, for he feared that if he asked the abbot would deny him permission,107 See Biographical Notes, William the Templar, abbot of Reading and archbishop of Bordeaux. the brother instead asked for leave for a feigned journey to the hot baths of the city of Bath. He started off to the west, and then retraced his steps and went east, to the city of the new-born martyr. This was the time when the martyr shone forth in his first miracles, when the storm winds still blew, before iniquity would obstruct its mouth [Ps 106:42], before one would openly speak of the power of the Lord [Ps 105:2] before many would come and ascend to the martyr of the Lord and to the house of the God of Jacob [Is 2:3/Mi 4:2]. This could have been written with the first signs of the martyr, except that either through forgetfulness or through investigation and making certain of the truth it was delayed until now. Along the route, the brother came across a knight who cared for him and for whom he had much affection. He asked where he was going, heard the answer, and advised against it: “Do not,” he said, “do not, my lord, go to Canterbury, lest the magnates hear of it and you bring down evil on your convent. Look, I carry the water of the holy martyr Thomas. Drink this, if you will. The kindness of the martyr will be able to hear you here.” The monk dismounted, and, prone on the ground, he reverenced the water, drank, and, as I remember, washed his face, which had earlier been washed by many tears. Then he turned aside to the blessed martyr Edmund,108 St. Edmund (d.869), the famed saint and miracle-worker whose relics were held at Bury St Edmunds in East Anglia. and from one of his friends he obtained a cloth stained with the blood of the martyr Thomas. He soaked it in water, washed his corrupted body and washed away the leprosy. After some days he returned home, and they received him into it as if there were nothing wrong with him. From the marvelous change to his leprous body, the abbot suspected he had gone to Canterbury, not to Bath. Speaking with a calm demeanour to the one fearing to confess, he asked how he was cured. He heard of his mode of cure and, full of wonder, he believed. [See Parallel Miracles no. 10 for William’s account of this miracle.]

IV.73. Concerning the leprous Gerard

A youth of Flanders, Gerard of Lille, had to be sequestered from the common dwellings of men for fear that the contagion of leprosy, which raged in him, might contaminate others. His fellows had borne with him for a long time because he was not meanly born and was greatly esteemed, until finally, with the pollution obvious, he received the sad sentence of his expulsion. Told that he would be living with the lepers and compelled, anxious for himself, to hasten his exit from the village, one night in a dream he saw himself at Canterbury lying prostrate at the tomb of our martyr. The sarcophagus was cracked, and through a cleft the saint blew into his mouth. This vision seems especially marvellous because when he later came to Canterbury, he found the condition of the tomb and marble and the entire structure to be just as he had seen it in his dream. Rejoicing greatly, and having found in hope, though not yet in reality, the pearl of great price of health, he went and sold all that he had, so that, going to Canterbury with faith and devotion, he might acquire it [Mt 13:46]. Having set out on his journey, in another dream he thought he was praying spread out in the shape of a cross in a great church unknown to him, and it seemed as if the martyr walked past him and struck him lightly between his shoulder blades with a staff, saying, “Rise, you are healed.” And so, rising, he crossed the sea, prostrated himself before the martyr, and spent nine sleepless nights in the church of Canterbury. He was anointed with the anointment of blood and water and he drank the same medication every day. The skin of his feet and legs, where the leprosy was the worst, was spilt everywhere, as if he were cut by a razor. This gave the flowing disease innumerable paths through which to run out. The bloody matter passed into his shoes and he left with the anguish of the disease diminished. When he had boarded a ship and was out to sea, there was a sudden cessation of the pricking and burning pain and he felt himself cleansed. And behold, as if the saint said to him, “Now you are healed, return and give glory to God” [Lk 17:18], the ship was driven back to the port of Sandwich by a terrible storm. Since this port was in the vicinity of Canterbury, he returned and presented himself cleansed to us. Staying many days with us, he increased the devotion of many to the martyr.109 For other lepers who stayed at the tomb for some time after their cures, see IV.3 and IV.76.

IV.74. Concerning the leprous Gilbert of St. Valery

Leprosy had shown itself to a slightly lesser extent in the body of a nearly ten-year-old boy of St. Valery named Gilbert. The evil disease had sullied his hands and arms, feet and legs, and his entire body. Though his face was not marked out by horrible pustules, it was distended and swollen and marked by red and white patches. He was the cause of great pain and shame to his parents, though they still made supplication to the Lord with faith, that he might be made the cause of praise and glory to his martyr. And God saw that this was good, and it was so [Gn 1:9–10]. He was led to the martyr, and in three days he was so improved that the bloody matter that had flowed out and hardened all over his body had vanished, feeling had returned to his hands and feet, his skin appeared whole, and by sure signs he seemed to be disposed to perfect health. However, a short time after he had returned home, by what judgement of God I do not know, he became much worse than he was before.

IV.75. Concerning the leprous Peter110 Notably, neither Benedict nor William named the leper in their accounts. The caption writer appears to have known his name from another source, suggesting that this was a much-discussed miracle. of Abingdon

Eleanor, queen of England,111 See Biographical Notes, Eleanor of Aquitaine (d.1204). found a cast-out infant, and gave it to Godfrey, bishop of St. Asaph,112 See Biographical Notes, Godfrey, bishop of St. Asaph’s and titular abbot of Abingdon. to bring up. The boy was taught letters. After a few years, he was covered by a foul leprosy. Segregated from the fellowship of students, by the episcopal sentence of that same bishop he was barred from entering the jurisdiction of Abingdon. After four years had gone by, the protuberances on his face had grown greater and greater, and his entire body more and more consumed. The boy left secretly, fled to the martyr, was cleansed by a stomach flux, and returned sound. Those who knew him were stunned when he returned because his face was so altered, the leprosy was annihilated, the swellings had disappeared, and his skin bloomed again. Up until that time, the bishop had remained incredulous about the things which were said of the martyr. But when he saw the cleansed boy, the boy he had seen leprous, had cast out of the jurisdiction, and had abhorred, he was compelled to believe the blessed Thomas to be of great merits, venerable excellence, and wonderful power. The bishop of Salisbury’s soul, too, by this same sight, was converted to the love of the martyr.113 See Biographical Notes, Jocelin de Bohun, bishop of Salisbury. [See Parallel Miracles no. 11 for William’s account of this miracle.]

IV.76. Concerning the leprous Richard

It is pleasant to tell those who wish to hear of the glorious cure of a leper born and bred in the territory of Chester, in the village which is called Edgeworth by the English.114 By “territory of Chester,” here Benedict means territory of the earls of Chester in Gloucestershire, where they held the manor of Bisley and a half-hide of the neighboring manor of Edgeworth. I am very grateful to John Jenkins for this information. He appeared to have come to the first years of his adolescence when he was cleansed. His name was Richard Sunieve,115 Richard’s story is told in six excellently preserved panels in Canterbury Cathedral window nII: see Caviness, Windows, pp. 194–5. the son of a poor woman, but the servant of a rich knight, Richard son of Henry. The boy was tending his lord’s horses and, as is the habit of shepherds, lay down in the shade of a thorn bush and slept. When he got up to go home, he appeared to have a swollen and speckled countenance.116 On waking ill after sleeping outside, see also II.1, II.28, and III.63. Little by little over the course of eight years, the Lord stretched forth his hand and touched him.117 Numerous passages in the Bible speak of the Lord “stretching out his hand” to punish (or, less usually, to heal): see, for example, Isaiah 5:25. Leprosy spread through his whole body, and his flesh was pained by dreadful ulcers. When at last he presented a dreadful and horrible sight to everyone, he was expelled not only from the household of the knight, but also from the village. He was followed only by his mother, to prevent his death. There was no health in him from the sole of his foot to the top of his head, and no spot on his entire body that was not ulcerated, not even the space of an arrow’s point. There was so much heat in his decaying body that a cloudy smoke rose from him, as if from a sooty place, and so much putrefaction was expelled that changing his linens every hour did not suffice. The smell was so bad that even his mother shunned his presence, and for his meals, she either held out the food placed on a long pole, or laid out what he was to eat and then absented herself. The boy heard of the martyr’s fame, and it greatly grieved him that he was not able to go to the martyr. His tears wet the bed on which he lay, until, through the invocation of the saint, he rose from his bed and made his way to Canterbury. He improved day by day as he traveled. He was admitted to the tomb, and when he was prostrate and kissing the tomb, a large pustule rather like a small apple, which protruded from his lip underneath his nose, vanished in the midst of the kisses. Thinking it had fallen off, he searched for it with his hand, but he was not able to find it. When he tasted the health-giving liquid, he was in disorder and confused as if he were drunk. With tottering steps, he was hardly able to leave. It was as if he were thrown into an ecstasy. Rising, however, he sensed a new agility in his body, and his skin, which was still stretched out although the leprosy had gone, straightaway seemed thinner and more wrinkled. Delay in returning seemed tedious to him, and he hastened his return so that he could present himself healed to his own people, bringing joy to them before he did for us. His lord, who had been unsure about the martyr’s miracles up to this time, saw this to be a clear and evident miracle, and he himself believed, and his whole house [Jn 4:53]. However, when he heard that the boy had secretly left us, he visited the martyr with his wife, family, brothers, kinsmen and friends, leading the healed and sound boy back to us. Having been asked many times, he released him to remain for a time with us.118 See Parallel Miracles no. 15 for William’s reference to a Richard cured of leprosy who stayed at the tomb for a long time, all but certainly this same Richard.

IV.77. Concerning two men, of whom one miraculously triumphed in a duel over the other

Two men were brought together for a duel of judgment.119 That is, a trial by battle. This miracle was once represented in Canterbury Cathedral’s stained glass. Two intact inscriptions that are clearly connected to this story survive in Canterbury Cathedral window nVII: see Caviness, Windows, p. 176. One of them had by far the larger build and greater strength. He seized the weaker one and lifted him high in order to hurl him to the ground. So lifted up, the smaller man lifted up his mind to heaven, and prayed a brief prayer, saying, “St. Thomas, martyr, help!” He was in great and sudden peril and his time for prayer was short. Those who were there are witnesses. As if the name of the saint weighed down against him, the stronger one suddenly fell under the man he held and was overcome.

IV.78. Concerning others who were accused concerning the game of the lord king that they had taken

Two men were accused and brought to trial by water concerning the woods and game of the lord king of England that they had taken. One applied himself to invoke the martyr and escaped, while the other was judged to be a thief and was hanged.

IV.79. Concerning others accused of the same thing

I pass over in silence the names and number of the other men who were justly accused of the same thing, but who escaped from the imminent peril of death by invocation of the martyr. In a vision, he stood by one of them, ordering that they would go free. When sleep lifted from his eyes, his dream gladdened his companions. They were tried by water, and each of them escaped. Walking in bare feet and dressed in woolen garments, all of them came together to the martyr to give thanks.

IV.80. Concerning Agnes, whose stepson took her dower and returned it to her in a sudden change of mind

Agnes of the province of Cornwall, the widow of a certain William, also came walking barefoot and dressed only in woolen garments. She had been deprived of her dower by her stepson. The lawsuit was contested and the matter debated for a long time, and the case, at first hanging in doubt, was about to reach its end, with possession awarded to the stepson. Despairing within herself, she made a vow to the martyr Thomas that she would go to him barefoot and without linen if he would assist her in her forsaken state. Unexpectedly, the hatred of her stepson was converted into filial love. He restored to his stepmother everything he had before denied her when she had asked for it, without legal action, price, or prayer. Weeping for joy, she immediately fulfilled her vow.

IV.81. Concerning Peter de Denintona, who was suddenly cured of an enormous swelling

The swollen head of Peter de Denintona in the province of Surrey120 Perhaps there was a misreading here of Surrey for Suffolk, and Peter was from Dennington in Suffolk. was like the head of a bull. He could hardly breathe. His friends and acquaintances came together and entirely despaired of him. The water of the martyr was brought and poured into the mouth of the desperate man. The house in which he lay was more separate, such that it was remote from the areas in which people usually congregated. Everyone left, with only one staying with him. Hardly had those who had left sat down at the table to eat, when the ill man got up, put on his shoes, and ran into the house with a cleansed body and restored head. He asked for water, washed his hands, and sat at the table with the rest. They marvelled that the one whom they had left barely alive had come to eat with them.

IV.82. Concerning Alexander, partially deaf

What I relate happened in the house of the knight Hugh de Bodebi.121 See Biographical Notes, Hugh de Bodebi. A seven-year-old boy, Alexander, could not hear in one of his ears. When the water was poured in his ear, he recovered perfect hearing.

IV.83. Concerning Robert, also partially deaf

A similar thing happened in the church of Christ of Canterbury to Robert, son of Asketil, of the aforesaid region. He heard nothing in his left ear, as I had tested. After he slept in the church, his left ear had more acute hearing than his right.

IV.84. Concerning Osbern of Lisieux, who had a hernia

We received a young man of Lisieux, Osbern, carrying letters for us of this kind:

“To the beloved brothers and friends in Christ, the prior and sacrist and the rest of the brothers of the holy mother church of Canterbury, greetings from Silvester, the treasurer of the church of Lisieux.122 See Biographical Notes, Silvester, treasurer of Lisieux.

We speak of what we know; we attest to what we have seen. This boy, the bearer of these letters, lived with us for a long time in the service of one of our canons, Roger the son of Ain. Many months have elapsed since he fell into a helpless bodily state, because he had a hernia, or what is commonly known as a rupture. The anguish of this infirmity pressed on him to such an extent that he wished for death rather than remain for long in such a life of tribulation. At last the Lord gave him the inspiration to fly to the help of your saint, the new martyr. He made a vow that within a certain amount of time he would make a journey to your church, in which the martyrdom took place, and visit the burial place of the holy martyr, from whom he hoped for healing. O how admirable is the name of Christ in his holy martyr! Within eight days after making the vow, he had received perfect health. Seek the truth of these things from him. He is of age, let him speak [Jn 9:21]. Farewell.”

IV.85. Concerning a certain John who was blinded and afterwards could miraculously see again by means of the water of the martyr

We also heard of a marvel that happened in the village of Corbie: a man had recovered his gouged-out eyes by means of the blessed and glorious martyr. We sent a messenger there, and we heard that his eyes were not gouged out but rather savagely wounded by a sharp knife. His torturer, when he was working to take them out, was enraged and brought out a knife with a very sharp point. He cruelly stabbed into the eyes again and again, such that everyone thought that it was worse to have them wounded in this way than to be gouged out. They reproved him for this great wickedness, to kill a man rather than blind him. Our messenger knew the truth of this from men of the village who had seen this with their eyes. When he did not find the abbot of Corbie at home,123 Corbie Abbey was a famed and influential Benedictine monastery in northern France. to whom we had written regarding the investigation of this miracle, he carried back a letter of testimony to us from the prior and convent which reads as follows:

“To the venerable lord Odo, by the grace of God prior of the church of Canterbury,124 See Biographical Notes, Odo, prior of Christ Church, Canterbury. A.,125 The prior only provided his first initial rather than his full name. called the prior of the church of Corbie, and the convent: greetings and respect.

We are writing back to you regarding those things you thought worthy to inquire of us by means of your letter. A certain young man named John, born at the fortified town which is called Valenciennes, was discovered and proved to be thieving in our village. According to secular law, he was to be executed by hanging. When he was being dragged off to the punishment of this terrible death, it pleased our burgesses that he might only be deprived of his eyes, and so be dismissed. And so he was made blind and greatly wounded in his eyes. He was led to the house of the sick and received by the hospital’s keeper, Ralph. Out of compassion, he bathed the eyes of the blinded man with warm water for that day and the following night, and he warmed them in order to ease the pain. On the third day, when he asked him with concern whether any access to sight was open to him at all after his blinding, he answered that no light remained in one eye, but in the other a little brightness came in, though so little that he certainly would not be able to find his way along a road without a guide. A certain poor young cleric had come there in the meantime, who confessed that he carried with him in a glass vessel the water of our most blessed patron, the martyr Thomas, Archbishop of Canterbury, glorified by God in our time, the water that very many know has performed numerous miracles. And so they received a small amount of the water, and in honor of the martyr we have spoken of, they reverently lit candles and carefully washed the eyes of the blind man with it. He regained his sight there, to such an extent that even the scars of the wounds inflicted on him during his blinding were healed. On the next day, he went to his own region healed and rejoicing. Lest these things leave any hesitation in your heart, we testify to you that one of our brothers was freed from a flood from the nose by drinking this same water.”

IV.86. Concerning a monk of the church of Reading, who was freed from a devil that had closed up his throat and nose by means of the martyr’s water

Geoffrey, a monk of the church of Reading,126 See Biographical Notes, Geoffrey of Wallingford, monk of Reading. For discussion of this miracle and the early cult of Becket at Reading, see Koopmans, “Thomas Becket and the Royal Abbey of Reading.” was encumbered by a very grave illness, to the point that it was thought he was in the last extremity, for he was deprived of the use of all his senses and all the members of his body. What more? All the brothers gathered together so that they might anoint him with holy oil, as is the custom. He received the sacrament, lost his speech, and was despaired of entirely. The prior, not knowing at all what should be done, said, “O brothers, if any of you know where the water of the holy martyr Thomas might be, let it be brought here in Christ’s faith.” Shortly thereafter an ampulla with water was brought by one of the brothers. After it was poured through the lips of the sick man, the chain upon his tongue was suddenly loosened, all his senses recovered, and all the members of his body received their earlier health, such that he said, “It is well.” Afterwards, he cried out loudly, “Thanks be to God, who by the merits of his martyr, St. Thomas, completely freed me from an evil spirit that had quite closed up my throat and nose.” And so the monk escaped both the hand of the demon and the injury of death. [See Parallel Miracles no. 12 for William’s copy of a letter from Augustine, a monk of Reading, which served as Benedict’s source for this account.]

IV.87. Concerning a monk of Mont-Dieu, Geoffrey, suffering from dropsy, who deflated when he stroked an account of the martyr’s miracles over his body and was healed

Peter, the venerable abbot of St.-Rémi,127 See Biographical Notes, Peter of Celle, abbot of St.-Rémi and bishop of Chartres. wrote regarding our inquiry about the truth of a certain miracle,128 The full text of the letter Peter of Celle sent to Christ Church (of which this chapter is just an extract, with some alterations) was preserved in Peter’s letter collection: see The Letters of Peter of Celle, no. 142, 522–5. The translation above is my own. Haseldine dates Peter’s letter to 1175/76 (thinking that it was sent when Benedict was the prior of Christ Church), but a better date range is 1172/3. and among other things says, “What I relate of the true events regarding the monk of Mont-Dieu named Geoffrey, I heard partly from him, and more fully from our monk who, at that time, was engaged in writing there. By chance, an account of miracles of St. Thomas had come to us from England, and from us to the brothers of Mont-Dieu. The said brother, his whole body swollen and distended, like someone truly afflicted with dropsy, was not able to leave the cell. Having received the account, with faith and invocation of the name of the saint, he touched it to his feet, shins, and the whole of his body, and recovered to such a degree that in a short time he was able to return to the church and his office, though he was not completely cured.”

IV.88. Concerning a boy of Winchester on whom a wall fell

I know an honorable man of the city of Winchester whose son, Geoffrey, who was about a year and a half old, had been delivered from an acute illness by means of the water of Canterbury.129 This miracle is portrayed in Canterbury Cathedral window sVII: see Caviness, Windows, pp. 210–11. After some days, however, when the boy’s mother sat alone in the house, and the boy rested in a crib opposite her, a great stone wall of the house collapsed and buried him in a heap of quarry-stones. The mother cried, “Lord, St. Thomas, save my son, whom you earlier restored to me!” When she had said this, she fell into a trance due to her extreme anguish. When some servants of the house came and saw her lying there as if she were dead, they applied the remedy of cold water, as it is usual to do. When she came back to herself and sat up, they said, “What has happened, lady?” “Oh, such sorrow! My son is dead. Look, he lies broken under the heap of rocks and stones.” But they invoked the name of God and the martyr, and, calling many men to their aid, they dismantled the mound of rubble. After much work, they broke through to the boy, and they found him not only unhurt but laughing. The boy’s crib, which was made of thick and solid wood, was broken into eighteen pieces. But the tender skin of the infant was entirely unhurt, with the exception of a small bruise under his eye, though a stone larger than the child was lying on top of him. Those who saw this were amazed [Lk 2:48] and astonishment seized them [Lk 5:26]. [See Parallel Miracles no. 13 for William’s account of this miracle.]

IV.89. Concerning the ale that did not purify itself as ale usually does, and suddenly received the necessary condition with the application of a string that had held an ampulla holding the saint’s water

Ralph de Hathfeld130 The place is unidentified. It is spelled Hadfeld and Hathfel in various manuscripts: see Robertson MTB, vol. 2, p. 253 n. 1 and Duggan, “Santa Cruz,” p. 55. and his wife wished to visit the martyr but did not have the ability to do so. The poverty of their household’s means hindered the accomplishment of their pious desire. They formed a plan to make ale and sell it, hoping in this way to gain the funds for themselves from the profits. The ale was made, but it was not able to purify itself, as this drink usually does, and did not emit any fermentation. The woman who had mixed it saw it come to nothing. She took the string which had held an ampulla of the water of the martyr, and, invoking the martyr, she placed it in the ale. Immediately the fermentation that alewives call barm131 The Latin word Benedict uses here is flos, which usually translates as flower, but could be used to describe a kind of surface scum or deposit. The first step in the making of ale is to make a wort by crushing barley, soaking it in hot water, and draining off the liquid. For the wort to become ale, it needs to ferment. When it does, a thick, foamy top – the barm – will form. burst forth to such a remarkable degree that it could hardly be kept from overflowing. And so, the undrinkable drink was made drinkable and worthy of sale. I did not hear about this from the woman herself, but rather from Master Richard, monk of Ely,132 See Biographical Notes, Richard, master and monk of Ely. who had heard these things from her in confession.

IV.90. Concerning Elias de Sibburnia, whose viscera were so constricted they seemed to be attached to his back

The viscera of Elias, the nephew of Richard the dean de Siburna,133 The place is unidentified. It may be Shipbourne in Kent. were so constricted and contracted that his stomach and back seemed to be stuck together. He was in such anguish, and had such difficulty in breathing, that he seemed to be about to die every hour. The water was sent for, he drank, and in that same moment he became better.

IV.91. Concerning a certain Hadewisa, who had an interior rupture

Hadewisa, the servant of this same dean, seemed to have an interior rupture, such that the viscera had broken out from the interior membrane and gathered against the exterior skin, making a very large swelling. Hardly had she tasted the water when the swelling subsided and the viscera settled back into their place.

IV.92. Concerning Robert de Beveruno with the stone

Among those suffering from the stone, who was more miserable than Robert de Beveruno?134 The place is unidentified. He opened his mouth to make a vow of pilgrimage, drank the water of the martyr, and emitted the stone, which had been broken into pieces by the power of the drink.

IV.93. Concerning his neighbor Hingan, who suffered sudden fits

His neighbor, Hingan, suffered sudden fits. They seized him while he was sleeping, and his great anguish made those who saw him feel pain. When the fit ended, he did not remember his suffering. It was thought to be another kind of the falling sickness. And so he drank of the healing water, and, after the drink, he lived in peace.

IV.94. Concerning the son of the earl of Clare, who was resurrected from the dead

God does not cast aside the powerful, for he himself is powerful [Jb 36:5]. The powerful and noble received their dead back by resurrection. One of these was described above,135 See the story of Jordan son of Eisulf, IV.64 above. and here another will be specified. He who makes all breath sent back the missing breath of life to James,136 James’ miracle is pictured in Canterbury Cathedral window sVII: see Caviness, Windows, pp. 211–14, and for the panels picturing Matilda pulling her son away from a doctor and in church being notified by an older son of James’ death, Rachel Koopmans, “Visions, Reliquaries, and the Image of ‘Becket’s Shrine’ in the Miracle Windows of Canterbury Cathedral,” Gesta 54:1 (2015): 37–57, at pp. 45–51. the son of the earl Roger de Clare,137 See Biographical Notes, Roger de Clare, earl of Hertford. then still a nursing infant. The merits of the innocent martyr went to the aid of the innocent one not just once, but twice. Born around the feast of St. Michael,138 Michaelmas, September 29. The year of his birth was 1171, and the recoveries and pilgrimages occurred in early 1173: for this dating, see Koopmans, “Benedict of Peterborough’s Compositions,” pp. 255–6. the infant boy was forty days old when he ruptured himself by too much crying. Intestines filled the scrotum of his testicles. With things so disordered, what ought to have been in the stomach was in the scrotum, which was distended and hung down nearly to his knees. His father offered forty or even more silver marks for his cure,139 A mark was a unit of account equivalent to thirteen shillings and four pence, or two-thirds of a pound. Forty marks was the same as 6,400 pennies, an enormous sum reflective of both Roger de Clare’s wealth and his concern for his son. but no-one would accept this unless they were allowed to cut into the tiny infant. His parents, however, fearing for his young age, would by no means consent to the use of a knife. And so, the infant’s hernia remained for a year and some months. In the course of the second year from his birth, on the day of the Purification of the blessed Virgin and Mother Mary,140 The Purification of the Virgin, also known as Candlemas, was celebrated on February 2. he was brought to the martyr by his mother.141 See Biographical Notes, Matilda de St. Hilary. Washed with the water of the martyr, within three days he was released from his infirmity, with no trace of it remaining.

After some weeks, in the middle of the following Lent, he was struck by another illness and breathed forth his spirit. The mother had gone to church to attend the divine office. The household had remained at home. Among them, no one could be found who would announce the boy’s death to the mother’s ears for fear of being called the cause of the calamity. At last a young boy, the brother of the dead boy, ran to the church.142 For James’ brothers, see Biographical Notes, Matilda de St. Hilary. Unable, like any boy, to keep a secret, he repeatedly cried out to his mother, “Lady, my brother is dead; lady, my brother is dead.” Instantly going pale, she sprang up, and casting aside her cloak she ran back to the house. She found that the infant had been carried from the inner room to an outer chamber and was laid out on the floor. His mouth was open, but he was entirely without breath. His tongue and lips were pulled back and his eyes were sunken and turned up such that only the whites could be seen. He was entirely cold and rigid, and, to say it shortly, truly dead. She picked him up in her arms and said “St. Thomas, restore my son to me! On a previous day you saved him from hernia. Now he is dead. Holy martyr, restore him to life.” She ran and extracted from the reliquary the relics of the saint which she had brought back from Canterbury. She poured the blood of the martyr in the mouth of the dead infant, and thrust the little piece of the hairshirt down his throat, constantly crying and saying, “Holy martyr Thomas, return my son to me. If you revive him, he will be brought back to your tomb. I myself will visit you barefoot. Hear me!” The knights who stood about, the countess of Warwick143 See Biographical Notes, Matilda de Percy (d.1204). and other women, all called upon her to be silent, but she knelt again and again on the ground with her bare knees and cried out even more: “Holy martyr, have mercy on me!” Then Lambert, her chaplain, an honorable man of good old age,144 On Lambert the chaplain, see Biographical Notes, Matilda de St. Hilary (d.1193). said “Why are you acting in this way, lady? You are being unwise and what you are doing is foolish: anyone who hears what you are doing and saying will think you are out of your mind. Is not the Creator allowed to do what he wishes with his creature? Cease. Put aside the infant, and let it be treated as a dead child. It is very foolish for you to make such an effort for something that is impossible.” All of them spoke similarly, but she said, “I certainly will not stop, nor will I put the infant aside: I trust that he will be returned to me. Martyr, glorious martyr,145 Here I have followed the manuscripts collated by Duggan, “Santa Cruz,” p. 55, which do not have the repetition of inquit (she said) found in Robertson’s edition. most pious, beloved martyr, have mercy on me, return my son to me.” And when she had cried out in this manner for two hours, the martyr had mercy on her and restored life to her infant. At first, a hint of redness appeared on his face, and a little while later, rolling his eyes, he burst out crying. And they blessed the Lord who kills and revives, who leads to the depths and leads back [1 Sm 2:6], and there was great happiness in the house [1 Mc 4:58], and in the end joy outstripped mourning, for they obtained joy, and sorrow and mourning fled away [Is 35:10]. The countess, the mother of the restored boy, took up an unusual labor, and made good her promised journey on bare feet to Canterbury with the boy. Following her were the countess of Warwick and many other women, the forenamed chaplain Lambert, and many knights, who all testified that they had seen the boy to be truly dead and that he was truly resurrected from the dead. [See Parallel Miracles no. 14 for William’s account of this miracle.]

1 Horace, Ars Poetica, lines 38–40. »

2 Westoning is located twenty kilometers south of Bedford. »

3 Benedict described Eilward’s miracle in an antiphon in the Becket Office (Cantus Database ID 601515): Novis fulget/ Thomas miraculis:/ membris donat/ castratos masculis/ Ornat visu/ privatos oculis [Thomas gleams with new miracles: he gives masculine members to the castrated, he grants sight to those deprived of eyes]. See Slocum, Liturgies, p. 200 and Reames, “Liturgical Offices,” p. 575. Eilward’s miracle is pictured in six panels in Canterbury Cathedral window nIII: see Caviness, Windows, pp. 187, 189–91 (the second panel of Eilward’s narrative is listed as “Becket’s Appearance at a Shrine”). Robert of Cricklade discussed Eilward in his Life and Miracles of Thomas Becket. This text is now lost, but it was used by the author of an early fourteenth-century Icelandic saga on Becket: for passages concerning Eilward, see Thómas Saga, pp. 103–7. On some of the legal aspects of Eilward’s miracle, see John Hudson, The Formation of English Common Law: Law and Society in England from the Norman Conquest to Magna Carta, 2nd edition (New York, 2018), pp. 148–9. On the punishment suffered by Eilward, see Klaus van Eickels, “Gendered Violence: Castration and Blinding as Punishment for Treason in Normandy and Anglo-Norman England,” Gender & History 16:3 (2004): 588–602. Benedict frequently uses the historical present in Eilward’s story in order to give his account more verve, but to avoid confusion I have decided to provide past tense verbs throughout. »

4 Those pledging to go to Jerusalem, as Eilward is doing here, would ordinarily sew a cross onto their clothing. »

5 Robertson’s edition lists the prior’s name as Gaufridus (Geoffrey). Anne Duggan has collated three manuscripts in which the prior’s name is recorded as “Angerius”: see Duggan, “Santa Cruz,” p. 53. The prior of the Augustinian priory of Bedford who was appointed April/May 1170 was named Auger (see HRH, p. 177), so I have emended “Geoffrey” to “Auger.” »

6 A canon of Bedford named Philip de Broi was the cause of a sharp dispute between Henry II and Becket on the question of the treatment of criminous clerks: see Barlow, Thomas Becket, pp. 93 and 104. The regularization of Bedford’s canons and the foundation of Bedford’s Augustinian priory occurred c.1166, possibly as a direct result of this notorious incident. Though Benedict does not mention Philip de Broi’s case in his discussion of Eilward’s miracle, he and many of his readers would have known of it. »

7 Robert of Cricklade noted that Eilward’s daughter was traveling with him after he left Canterbury: see Thómas Saga, p. 103 and Biographical Notes, Robert of Cricklade. »

8 This is very likely the parish church of St. Mary’s in Bedford. »

9 Usually, a mass for a martyr would only be said for someone who had been officially recognized as such by the Church. Eilward’s miracle dates to late 1171 or early 1172, a year or more before Pope Alexander III’s canonization of Thomas Becket in February 1173. »

10 See Biographical Notes, Hugh de Puiset, bishop of Durham. »

11 Ralph’s miracle is portrayed in three panels in Canterbury Cathedral window nIII. For Longa villa, which I have decided to translate as Longueville, Robertson suggested Langton (presumably meaning Langdon?) in Kent. It seems more likely that Ralph either hailed from Longueville in Normandy or was a member of the Huntingdonshire family called de Longavilla (for miracles concerning the knight Henry de Longavilla, see III.36–7 above). Ralph’s ability to make provision for himself at a leper hospital, give alms, and vow a trip to Jerusalem indicates that he came from a family with some means. »

12 This appears to be the earliest reference to special devotion to Becket on a Tuesday. For other references, see Duggan, “The Cult of St. Thomas Becket in the Thirteenth Century,” p. 40 n. 105. »

13 See Biographical Notes, Edmund, master and archdeacon of Coventry. »

14 Horace, Ars Poetica, lines 180–1. »

15 A charter dated 1160x1176 that was witnessed by Edmund (see Biographical Notes, Edmund, master and archdeacon of Coventry) includes a witness named “Sasfredo.” This might be the writer of this letter: see EEA: Coventry and Lichfield, 1160–1182, ed. by M. J. Franklin (Oxford, 1998), p. 74. »

16 Robertson’s edition supplies the word merita (“merits”) at this spot (see Robertson, p. 184 n. 3). Anne Duggan has collated three manuscripts in which the word loca (“places”) is found (Duggan, “Santa Cruz,” p. 53), a reading I have adopted here. »

17 St. Edmund (d.869) was the famed saint and miracle-worker whose relics were held at Bury St Edmunds in East Anglia. For a full-length study of his cult, see Rebecca Pinner, The Cult of St Edmund in Medieval East Anglia (Woodbridge, 2015). »

18 See Numbers 12, in which Moses asked the Lord for the healing of his leprous sister Miriam. »

19 For the story of Elisha’s healing of Naaman, the leader of the Syrian army, see 2 Kings 5:1–14. »

20 By “the time of grace,” Benedict means since the time of Christ. »

21 Charles Homer Haskins speculated that this Odo could be identified with the Odo hostiarius (Odo the doorkeeper) who appears in the Pipe Rolls in this period: see Haskins, Norman Institutions (Cambridge, 1918), p. 163. »

22 There are documentary references to a major fire in Rochester on April 11 or 12, 1179: see Martin Brett, “The Church at Rochester, 604–1185,” in Nigel Yates with the assistance of Paul A. Welsby (eds.), Faith and Fabric: A History of Rochester Cathedral, 604–1994 (Woodbridge, 1996), p. 27. However, Benedict finished writing the Miracles long before 1179. Fires were a common peril in medieval towns and cities, and this chapter must refer to an earlier, otherwise unrecorded fire in Rochester. Given the reference to the “dry summer heat,” it most likely occurred in the summer of 1171 or 1172. »

23 Canterbury is located about 100 kilometers southeast of Parndon, a village in Essex that was absorbed by the village of Harlow in the mid-twentieth century. »

24 This church is most likely the priory of Minster in Sheppey, which is located about forty kilometers from Canterbury. Another possibility is the Benedictine nunnery of Higham or Littlechurch, about fifty kilometers from Canterbury, which was founded c.1148. »

25 See Biographical Notes, Albinus, abbot of Darley. »

26 See Biographical Notes, Odo, prior of Christ Church, Canterbury. »

27 This is a reference to the denial of Christ by Peter, told in Mark 14:66–72, Matthew 26:69–75, Luke 22:5–62, and John 18:15–27. »

28 William son of Ranulf, lord of Whitchurch (see III.40 and Biographical Notes) was sometimes termed William de Warenne, and Whitchurch is only about fifty kilometers from Stafford. However, the Warenne family was large and William a common name, so this knight could be someone else entirely. »

29 See Biographical Notes, Nicholas son of Aileva. »

30 See Biographical Notes, Robert de Broi, prior of Lenton. »

31 Benedict is referring to Christ turning water into wine at the Marriage at Cana (John 2:1–11) and the miracle of the Eucharist, the turning of water into Christ’s blood. »

32 Benedict counted three transformation miracles in the chapter above. He celebrated these four miracles in an antiphon in the Becket Office (Cantus Database ID 200355): Aqua Thomae quinquies/ varians colorem/ in lac semel transiit/quarter in crurorem [The water of Thomas, varying its colour five times, transformed once into milk, four times into blood] (see Slocum, Liturgies, p. 205 and Reames, “Liturgical Offices,” p. 577). Benedict does not tell a miracle of the water changing into milk in his collection, but there is such a miracle in William’s collection: see William of Canterbury, Miracula, IV.45, pp. 354–7. »

33 See Biographical Notes, Elias of Froyle. »

34 A man named Everard, possibly this same Everard, appears as a witness to a charter issued by Henry of Blois, the bishop of Winchester, between 1154x1171: see EEA VIII: Winchester, 1070–1204, ed. by M. J. Franklin (Oxford, 1993), no. 130, p. 93. »

35 Southwick, an Augustinian monastery near Brighton, was founded c.1145x53. It is about thirty kilometers from Winchester to Southwick. The prior in the early 1170s may have been named Philip, who is known to have been prior there 1174x88: see HRH, p. 184. »

36 Froyle, where Ranulph was priest, is about forty-five kilometers away from Southwick. »

37 The caption writer has “Ralph” rather than “Ranulph” here. »

38 He is named “Hamfrid” by the caption writer and in one manuscript: see Robertson, MTB, vol. 2, p. 196 n. 1. Robertson’s edition gives his name as Ansfridus, but Duggan has collated three manuscripts that provide Anfridus (see Duggan, “Santa Cruz,” p. 53), which I will follow here. »

39 See Biographical Notes, Anfrid of Ferring. »

40 Wissant was one of the major embarkation points from France to England. Becket departed from Wissant in late 1170 on his return to Canterbury. »

41 On this and other stories concerning children who appeared insane, see Claire Trenery, “Insane Innocents: Mad Children in Benedict of Peterborough’s Miracula Sancti Thomae Cantuariensis,” Family & Community History 18:2 (2015): 139–55. »

42 The caption writer has “Judoc.” »

43 The place is unidentified but was very likely located in northern France. »

44 Mary’s miracle is told in three panels of Canterbury Cathedral window nII: see Caviness, Windows, pp. 196–7, where they are labeled “Cure of Matilda of Cologne.” »

45 Perhaps the same messenger who checked on the epileptic Mary of Rouen (see IV.21) also went to Lisors to see how Walter was faring. Lisors is a little over thirty kilometers from Rouen. »

46 See Biographical Notes, Simon de Senlis III, earl of Northampton. »

47 Juliana’s miracle is pictured in three panels of Canterbury Cathedral window nII: see Caviness, Windows, pp. 193–4. »

48 A literal translation preserves Benedict’s wordplay: “A girl named Joy [Laetitia] was also a cause of joy to us.” »

49 This seems to refer either to the manor of Charlton Kings, part of the hundred of Cheltenham, or to the manor of Charlton Abbots, owned by the Benedictine abbey of Winchcombe. »

50 Referring to the parable of the woman who lost a drachma (a coin) and turned over her whole house until she found it (Luke 15:8–9). »

51 The place is unidentified. Robertson suggested Banwell. »

52 The caption writer gives her the name of Sara. »

53 See above, Passion, Extract VIII, and also below, IV.52. »

54 In other words, Matilda was to make a pilgrimage to Jerusalem or to Compostela. »

55 Unlikely our industrially produced coins made of base metals, medieval pennies were cut out of sheets of hammered silver. Being hand-made, they could vary in size. A larger penny had more silver content and so was more desirable than a smaller one. »

56 In the medieval period, a farthing was made by cutting a penny into quarters (a “farthing” means a fourth of a penny). A halfpenny was literally half a penny, made by cutting a penny down the middle. It would take a sharp chisel, a hammer, a hard surface, and some force to cut a penny into such pieces – not something easily done while on a journey. »

57 The large and important Benedictine monastery of St. Augustine’s, founded in 598, was located very near Canterbury Cathedral and the monastery of Christ Church. »

58 There were no shilling coins in the medieval period. A shilling was a unit of account: it was another way to say twelve pennies. Reading that Ralph “received five shillings,” medieval readers would have understood that Ralph was given sixty pennies. »

59 See the story of Jesus walking on water to rescue a floundering ship: Matthew 14:22–36, Mark 6:45–56, and John 6:16–24. »

60 The caption reads “Alfred” rather than Ailred. »

61 The Gatteraz is a rocky region offshore Gatteville in Normandy (near Barfleur) that has a strong current. It is sometimes spelled Catteraz (Benedict’s Latin is Cataras). The White Ship carrying the son and heir of King Henry I foundered in this area in 1120. »

62 This is an interesting early reference to Thomas Becket’s father, Gilbert Becket, who was of Norman origin and gained wealth by renting properties in London. A later legend held that Gilbert Becket went on Crusade and that his wife, Matilda, was the daughter of a Muslim ruler who followed him back to London: see John Jenkins, “St Thomas Becket and Medieval London,” History 105 (2020): 652–72, at pp. 668–72. »

63 This is Croxton Abbey, also known as Croxton Kerrial, a Praemonstratensian community founded c.1160. »

64 See Biographical Notes, William, abbot of Croxton Kerrial. Benedict may well have drawn this account (and that in the next chapter) from a letter written by the abbot. »

65 This is the Augustinian church of Bedford whose prior, Auger, was involved in Eilward of Westoning’s miracle: see above, IV.2. »

66 See Biographical Notes, Rohese de Vere. »

67 The caption reads “Ingelram son of Ingelram of Goulton,” providing the correct name of the boy (which, notably, Benedict never mentions – it seems the caption writer had knowledge of this miracle from another source), but reflecting Benedict’s incorrect understanding of the father’s name. William accurately gave his name as Stephen. See Biographical Notes, Stephen de Meinil. »

68 Benedict’s incorrectly text reads “the wife of Ingelram of Goulton.” In fact, her husband’s name was Stephen and her son’s name was Ingelram. See Biographical Notes, Stephen de Meinil. From a charter issued by Stephen, we know that his wife’s name was Joan. »

69 For Benedict’s discussion of this line of blood on Becket’s face, see above, Passion, Extract VIII, and the story of Matilda of Cologne, IV.37. »

70 Fountains Abbey was a Cistercian abbey in Yorkshire. For the grants that Ingelram’s father made to Fountains and his intent to become a monk there himself, see Biographical Notes, Stephen de Meinil. The position of this sentence is odd: it would have made more sense to say where the boy became a monk at the close of the chapter. This may indicate that Benedict was working from a written source or sources and/or that he decided to expand the story at some point. »

71 See Biographical Notes, William de Vernon. The castle is referred to as Nean, Neaho, and Neau in various manuscripts of Benedict’s collection: see Robertson, MTB, vol. 2, p. 221 and Duggan, “Santa Cruz,” p. 54. Though Robertson read this as a reference to Neen in Shropshire, it must refer to William’s castle at Néhou in Normandy. »

72 The place is unidentified. »

73 St. Edmund (d.869) was one of England’s most prominent saints. Medieval hospitals were often dedicated to St. Leonard of Noblac, an early Frankish saint. The virgin martyr St. Margaret of Antioch was widely revered in medieval England. »

74 Eliza’s idea was for her child to be extracted and immediately baptized, despite the fact that this would likely result in Eliza’s own death. If her child were stillborn or died in the womb, it could not be baptized, with grave consequences for its soul. »

75 The caption writer has “woman.” »

76 St. Martin of Tours (d.397), a soldier, hermit, and bishop, was one of the most popular saints of the medieval period. He was renowned for cutting his cloak in two and giving one half to a beggar. »

77 The story is found in Sulpicius Severus’ Dialogues: see Sulpicius Severus: The Complete Works, III.3, p. 233. »

78 See Biographical Notes, Roger, monk of Christ Church, Canterbury. »

79 This passage echoes Christ’s command to a paralyzed man lying on a bed to get up (see Matthew 9:6 and Mark 2:11) and his similar command to an ill man lying on a bed (see John 5:8). »

80 The caption writer has Henry rather than Hugo. »

81 The place is unidentified. »

82 The caption writer has Metania rather than Melania. »

83 This miracle is portrayed in Canterbury Cathedral window nII: see Caviness, Windows, pp. 195–6. Originally a six-panel story, only the first three panels have survived. For the imagery of the first panel, the glaziers amalgamated little Robert’s story with that of another drowned boy, Philip Scot: see below, IV.66. »

84 The monastic services of nones (at the “ninth hour”) is held in the middle of the afternoon, while vespers is at sunset. The exact amount of time between the services varied according to the time of year. »

85 The village of Sarre is less than fourteen kilometers away from Canterbury. »

86 See Biographical Notes, Jordan son of Eisulf. The miracle relating to Jordan’s sons is told in nine panels in Canterbury Cathedral window nII: see Caviness, Windows, pp. 197–9. »

87 On William Brito, see Biographical Notes, Jordan son of Eisulf. »

88 In other words, mid-morning on the seventh day after the nurse died. »

89 There is no mention of Jordan son of Eisulf in surviving correspondence or the lives of Becket, but the archbishop had a large range of connections, and it is possible that Jordan had some kind of relationship with the living Becket. »

90 See Biographical Notes, Hamelin de Warenne. »

91 Given the placement of this miracle at the beginning of William’s collection (which he started in June 1172), this miracle all but certainly occurred in 1172. In 1172, the date of Easter was April 16, and the Friday of Easter week, the date of the elder son’s death, was April 21. »

92 That is, the features of Eisulf, the man so important in establishing the dominance of the family in the West Riding. See Biographical Notes, Jordan son of Eisulf. »

93 Here Benedict adapted a passage from the preface to the Homilies on Ezekiel: see Patrologia Latina, vol. LXXVI, cols. 785A, and Homilies on the Book of the Prophet Ezekiel by Saint Gregory the Great, trans. Theodosia Tomkinson (Etna, CA, 2008), p. 23. »

94 The virgin martyr St. Catherine of Alexandria was a very popular saint in medieval Europe. The story of Agnes’ vision bears comparison with Benedict’s account of the vision of Orm (see above, I.4). »

95 See Biographical Notes, Turstan of Croydon. »

96 See Biographical Notes, William Turbe, bishop of Norwich. »

97 Bishop William had prior experience investigating the miracles of William of Norwich: see Thomas of Monmouth, The Life and Passion of William of Norwich, ed. and trans. Miri Rubin (London, 2014), VI.10, p. 158. »

98 The place is unidentified. In William’s account of the miracle, Hugh Scot and his son live in Cheshire rather than Warwickshire. »

99 Canterbury’s glaziers utilized the imagery of toads coming out of water and boys throwing stones at them Canterbury Cathedral window nII: see Caviness, Windows, p. 195. »

100 See Biographical Notes, Peter de Arches. »

101 A knight Gerard from Flanders appears twice in William’s collection: see William of Canterbury, Miracula, III.21, p. 280 and VI.72, pp. 470–1. »

102 This feast, honoring Peter the apostle as the first pope, is celebrated on February 22. »

103 See Matthew 16:19, where Christ gives Peter the apostle the power of binding and loosing. »

104 As part of the last rites, priests would put the viaticum (another name for the bread of the Eucharist, considered to be the body of Christ) into the mouths of the dying. Here Benedict is comparing the Eucharist and Christ (“the Lamb of Bethlehem”) to the blood-and-water relic of Becket (“the lamb of Canterbury”). »

105 Godmersham is located about fourteen kilometers away from Canterbury. »

106 Canterbury’s medieval glaziers pictured the leprous monk Elias being examined by doctors, a panel now in Canterbury Cathedral window sVII: see Caviness, Windows, pp. 212–13. For discussion of Elias’ miracle, see Rachel Koopmans, “Thomas Becket and the Royal Abbey of Reading,” The English Historical Review 131:1 (February 2016): 1–30, esp. 11–15 and 28–9. »

107 See Biographical Notes, William the Templar, abbot of Reading and archbishop of Bordeaux. »

108 St. Edmund (d.869), the famed saint and miracle-worker whose relics were held at Bury St Edmunds in East Anglia. »

109 For other lepers who stayed at the tomb for some time after their cures, see IV.3 and IV.76. »

110 Notably, neither Benedict nor William named the leper in their accounts. The caption writer appears to have known his name from another source, suggesting that this was a much-discussed miracle. »

111 See Biographical Notes, Eleanor of Aquitaine (d.1204). »

112 See Biographical Notes, Godfrey, bishop of St. Asaph’s and titular abbot of Abingdon. »

113 See Biographical Notes, Jocelin de Bohun, bishop of Salisbury. »

114 By “territory of Chester,” here Benedict means territory of the earls of Chester in Gloucestershire, where they held the manor of Bisley and a half-hide of the neighboring manor of Edgeworth. I am very grateful to John Jenkins for this information. »

115 Richard’s story is told in six excellently preserved panels in Canterbury Cathedral window nII: see Caviness, Windows, pp. 194–5. »

116 On waking ill after sleeping outside, see also II.1, II.28, and III.63. »

117 Numerous passages in the Bible speak of the Lord “stretching out his hand” to punish (or, less usually, to heal): see, for example, Isaiah 5:25. »

118 See Parallel Miracles no. 15 for William’s reference to a Richard cured of leprosy who stayed at the tomb for a long time, all but certainly this same Richard. »

119 That is, a trial by battle. This miracle was once represented in Canterbury Cathedral’s stained glass. Two intact inscriptions that are clearly connected to this story survive in Canterbury Cathedral window nVII: see Caviness, Windows, p. 176. »

120 Perhaps there was a misreading here of Surrey for Suffolk, and Peter was from Dennington in Suffolk. »

121 See Biographical Notes, Hugh de Bodebi. »

122 See Biographical Notes, Silvester, treasurer of Lisieux. »

123 Corbie Abbey was a famed and influential Benedictine monastery in northern France. »

124 See Biographical Notes, Odo, prior of Christ Church, Canterbury. »

125 The prior only provided his first initial rather than his full name. »

126 See Biographical Notes, Geoffrey of Wallingford, monk of Reading. For discussion of this miracle and the early cult of Becket at Reading, see Koopmans, “Thomas Becket and the Royal Abbey of Reading.” »

127 See Biographical Notes, Peter of Celle, abbot of St.-Rémi and bishop of Chartres. »

128 The full text of the letter Peter of Celle sent to Christ Church (of which this chapter is just an extract, with some alterations) was preserved in Peter’s letter collection: see The Letters of Peter of Celle, no. 142, 522–5. The translation above is my own. Haseldine dates Peter’s letter to 1175/76 (thinking that it was sent when Benedict was the prior of Christ Church), but a better date range is 1172/3. »

129 This miracle is portrayed in Canterbury Cathedral window sVII: see Caviness, Windows, pp. 210–11. »

130 The place is unidentified. It is spelled Hadfeld and Hathfel in various manuscripts: see Robertson MTB, vol. 2, p. 253 n. 1 and Duggan, “Santa Cruz,” p. 55. »

131 The Latin word Benedict uses here is flos, which usually translates as flower, but could be used to describe a kind of surface scum or deposit. The first step in the making of ale is to make a wort by crushing barley, soaking it in hot water, and draining off the liquid. For the wort to become ale, it needs to ferment. When it does, a thick, foamy top – the barm – will form. »

132 See Biographical Notes, Richard, master and monk of Ely. »

133 The place is unidentified. It may be Shipbourne in Kent. »

134 The place is unidentified. »

135 See the story of Jordan son of Eisulf, IV.64 above. »

136 James’ miracle is pictured in Canterbury Cathedral window sVII: see Caviness, Windows, pp. 211–14, and for the panels picturing Matilda pulling her son away from a doctor and in church being notified by an older son of James’ death, Rachel Koopmans, “Visions, Reliquaries, and the Image of ‘Becket’s Shrine’ in the Miracle Windows of Canterbury Cathedral,” Gesta 54:1 (2015): 37–57, at pp. 45–51. »

137 See Biographical Notes, Roger de Clare, earl of Hertford. »

138 Michaelmas, September 29. The year of his birth was 1171, and the recoveries and pilgrimages occurred in early 1173: for this dating, see Koopmans, “Benedict of Peterborough’s Compositions,” pp. 255–6. »

139 A mark was a unit of account equivalent to thirteen shillings and four pence, or two-thirds of a pound. Forty marks was the same as 6,400 pennies, an enormous sum reflective of both Roger de Clare’s wealth and his concern for his son. »

140 The Purification of the Virgin, also known as Candlemas, was celebrated on February 2. »

141 See Biographical Notes, Matilda de St. Hilary. »

142 For James’ brothers, see Biographical Notes, Matilda de St. Hilary. »

143 See Biographical Notes, Matilda de Percy (d.1204). »

144 On Lambert the chaplain, see Biographical Notes, Matilda de St. Hilary (d.1193). »

145 Here I have followed the manuscripts collated by Duggan, “Santa Cruz,” p. 55, which do not have the repetition of inquit (she said) found in Robertson’s edition. »

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Book IV

The Passion and Miracles of St. Thomas Becket by Benedict of Peterborough

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