Today is St. Edward the Confessor's translatio, the feast day of the moving of his relics, which is one of two main feast days for a saint. Edward's relics were first moved to a new shrine in 1163, two years after his canonisation by Alexander III, and again in 1269 under the auspices of his most zealous devotee of all ages: Henry III. I'm currently writing my MA dissertation on Edward the Confessor, or more precisely on how he his represented in narrative literature and liturgy.
To honour my thesis subject, I will in this blogpost present an excerpt from a lecture I held at a local medievalist seminar two days ago, where a friend and I presented our soon-to-be-finished MA dissertations. The excerpt is a brief overview of the Confessor's cult, and this is only a minor selection of material from my thesis chapter on this subject. When my MA is finished I hope to present a more complete version, but for the time being this overview must suffice. All images are from wikimedia.
The woman-hearted Confessor prepares
The evanescence of the Saxon line.
The evanescence of the Saxon line.
- The Norman Conquest, William Wordsworth
These lines by William Wordsworth are interesting in that they are a
testament to how enduring historical fictions can be, and how a
textual representation of a person can continue to be accepted when
it is cultivated properly. Wordsworth is here referring to the idea
that it was Edward the Confessor, heirless from his purportedly
chaste marriage, who appointed William the duke of Normandy as his
successor and thus paved the way for the Norman Conquest. This claim
was first put forth by the Norman chronicler William of Jumièges who
wrote his Deeds of the Norman Dukes shortly after the
Conquest. Since the Normans had taken England by force they needed
some way to legitimise their conquest, and they then turned to the
rumour, quickly committed to letters, that William was Edward's
legitimate heir and that his successor, Harold Godwinson, had been a
usurper. This fiction lent credence to the Norman claim to the
English throne, but it also assured Edward a favourable reputation
from the very beginning of his posthumous life. This reputation was
of course enhanced by the anonymous work Vita Aedwardi written
shortly after the Conquest which reads in part like a religious
biography of the dead king, and this laid the foundation for the
later hagiographic tradition.
Edward in the Bayeux tapestry
The Cult of
St. Edward
Edward's posthumous standing in England remained favourable in the
years following the Conquest. Kings embraced him as a worthy
predecessor and historians hailed him as a man of virtues whose reign
was a brief time of peace between two ages of chaos, a point that
made authors compare him with the Biblical king Solomon who ruled
peacefully after his father David's wars. However, although he was
described in favourable terms there is nothing to suggest that he was
regarded as anything more than a mortal king. And not everybody was
equally pangeyric in their praise: William Malmesbury, writing in the
1120s, presents a dual picture of Edward. On the one hand he lauds
Edward for his piety made manifest through his healings, but he also
states that Edward was too simpleminded to be a good king, and that
it was through the grace of God alone England did not suffer under
his kingship. This statement must of course be understood as a
response to a claim spreading from France: that miracle-working was
inherent in royal blood. William repudiated such theories and stated
instead that Edward's miracles were made possible through his piety,
for it was not Edward himself who performed the miracles, but God who
had chosen Edward as a vessel for these miracles because of the
king's piety.
The first claim to Edward's sainthood came in the 1130s when Osbert
of Clare, a prior of Westminster Abbey, was allegedly cured of a
fever and attributed this to Edward's intervention. In 1138 he
therefore wrote a new biography of Edward, a text that was based both
on Vita I, William of Malmesbury's Deeds of the English
Kings and other documents. This was the first text on Edward that
can be labelled strictly as a hagiography, as both its structure and
subject-matter conform to hagiographic conventions, and it was titled
Vita Beati Eadwardi Regis, henceforth known as Vita II.
This hagiography was presented to the papal legate who
visited Westminster that year. The motion was denied on grounds of
insufficient evidence, but it probably also had something to do with
King Stephen's meddling in ecclesiastical affairs.
Aelred of Rievaulx, initial from De Speculum Caritatis
Although Henry II had taken the initiative to reapply for Edward's canonisation, there's no evidence that suggests he was personally invested in the cult of St. Edward. He needed the king sanctified to provide himself with a saintly forebear who would legitimise his claim to the English throne, and to purport this he was equally - if not more - preoccupied with commissioning the vernacular Roman de Rou, a family history showing off what greatness ran in his Angevin blood. The king's lukewarm attitude coupled with the meteoric rise of the cult of Thomas Becket from 1173 onwards were two very important reasons why Edward receded into the background and apparently became a chiefly Westminster figure. Here, however, he was celebrated with due solemnity, and we see from a late-12th-century liturgical calendar that both his dies natalis and his translatio were big days in the liturgical year at Westminster.
After the first surge of devotion - what I prefer to call the Angevin
surge - the cult of Edward lay more or less dormant for several
decades until it caught the attention of King Henry III in the 1230s.
Henry's devotion to Edward was driven by an unprecedented zeal and he
expressed this in the refurbishing of Westminster Abbey, the naming
of his eldest son and heir, and a new translation in 1269, to mention
only a few aspects. When Henry died in 1272 the cult of Edward
retained a strong position in the kingdom for decades, until it waned
significantly at the turn of the century, marking an end to what I
have termed the first Plantagenet surge. Due to the growing
militarism of the English monarchy, Edward's relevance decreased as
he was a peaceful king more famed for his sedate piety than as a
leader of warriors. In the end he was overshadowed by St. George, who
in 1351 became the patron saint of England. Edward enjoyed one final
devotional surge in the 1380s and 1390s, the second Plantagenet
surge, when Richard II embraced the cult. This resulted in an array
of donations to the king's tomb, and Richard continued the building
on Westminster Abbey. This surge was, however, short-lived as Richard
was deposed in 1399.
Love your overview Steffen. You've done a good job.
SvarSlettThank you, I'm very grateful for those words. More will probably come in due course!
SvarSlettThis is really a well written research paper, Steffen! Is this a part of your dissertation? If it is, then I can say that your master dissertation is amazing. I wish you posted the whole paper online for people to see. I would certainly like to read it knowing how well you write research paper.
SvarSlettThank you very much for those kind words, Florence! This is a summary of my dissertation's second chapter, in which I provide the historical background for the discussion in later chapters, so the original text is both longer and far more informative. If you do want to read the entire thing - or just the whole second chapter - you can find the text online here: http://ntnu.diva-portal.org/smash/get/diva2:570873/FULLTEXT01
SlettBest regards