Bishop Bartholomew and the Burgled Bones

 In the 1120s, Bishop William Warelwast and of the (secular) canons of Bodmin, Algar, refounded the community at Bodmin as an Augustinian priory.  The first prior was a canon of Merton, Guy - although he didn't last long.  On his way to see Warelwast, his horse bolted and he fell into a pit and died of internal injuries - with Algar and Geoffrey of Plympton touchingly at his bedside.

The Augustinian house at Bodmin was founded as the Priory of  St Mary and St Petroc.  Most Augustinian houses were dedicated to Mary, and since its first prior came from the Priory of St Mary, Merton, it's hardly surprising to see the BVM there.  St Petroc was a native, a sixth-century Cornish saint, and he founded a monastery at Bodmin, which eventually became a college of secular canons.  His relics had been there time out of mind.

In the 1170s, one of the canons, Martin, fell out with the prior - so much so that in 1176, he nicked the bones and absconded to Brittany, giving them to the  monks of  Saint-Meen.  These monks didn't know that the bones had been pinched (they probably didn't inquire too much) - they saw it as divin providence, especially when miracles starting happening.  The Bodmin canons were unaware of anything remiss until Robert Torigny, abbot of Mont Saint-Michel, heard about a new shrine to St Petroc, and told his friend Bartholomew, bishop  of Exeter (pictured, right).  Bartholomew assembled a committee of abbots and  priors to investigate, and the prior of Bodmin sent out a scout to locate St Petroc.

Each side then brought bigger guns in. Martin went to Roland of Dinan, regent of Brittany, and argued that since Petroc was happily residing in Brittany, he could be used as backing for Geoffrey of Brittany becoming Earl of Cornwall, to replace his recently-deceased half-brother.  Bartholomew, on the other hand, went to Geoffrey's father, Henry II - who issued letters requiring the Breton monks to give Petroc back to the Cornish canons.  These letters went out via Walter of Coutances (nb. Coutances is where Algar became bishop of), Keeper of the Great Seal.  Walter, born in Cornwall, was thrilled Henry was on the canons' side, and got the letters out pronto.  Clutching them, he bumped into an itinerant cripple, with an ivory casket for sale.  Taking this as a sign, Walter bought the casket and presented both letters and casket to Prior Roger, who duly set off to Brittany.

With regret, the monks of Saint-Meen gave up the relics, and Roger put them in the casket - miraculously, just the right size.  Roger returned to England, meeting Bartholomew at Exeter, and then progressing formally with him through Devon and Cornwall, back to Bodmin, where a new shrine was constructed to house the relics, dedicated by Bartholomew (who also granted an indulgence to help fund the shrine).

The casket is Sicilian-Arabic - and itself could tell a tale.  You can see it, and Bodmin's spectacular font from around the same time, here.

Further reading:  Pinder-Wilson, R.H. and Brooke, C.N.L., 'The Reliquary of St. Petroc and the Ivories of Norman Sicily', Archaeologia, Volume 104 (1973), pp. 261-305.

The Miracles of Merton Priory

 There weren't any.  There were no saints attached to it.  But miraculous things did happen.  When Gilbert the founder's tomb was moved, his body was found to be intact.  The canon Guy, sent to set up communities at Taunton and Bodmin, cured the prior with prayer - and calmed storms with prayer, too.  (When he died, the cloak to wrap his body in was too small; a bigger one appeared as if by miracle.  This is really quite a weedy miracle, though.)  In Heales' transcript of the cartulary is also a story about William Giffard, Bishop of Winchester.  He was on his way to Merton in 1114, which at that point was a collection of wooden buildings, to consecrate the cemetry, when

'he met a certain boy, condemned for theft, to be deprived of his eyesight; whereupon the Bishop, with the intervention of his pastoral staff, rescued him from the imminent peril; by which deed therefore he foreshadowed that in the place which he came to consecrate many should be rescued from the darkness of vice, and be brought by the power of discipline to the light of justice.'

I rather like the scene of Giffard with his super-hero's crozier.

Giffard founded Taunton, having asked Prior Robert for a man of unbending morality whom he could have as prior there.

I also like the fact that what's left of Taunton Priory is now a cricket museum.

Thomas, Hubert and their Merton habits

 When Thomas Becket's corpse was being prepared for burial, 'it was found', says John of Salisbury (quite possibly an eye witness), 'that it was wrapped in a hair-shirt crawling with lice and worms, and furthermore..., his underclothes, right down to his knees, were made of hair-cloth.'

Rather him than me.

Mortification of the flesh was fashionable amongst 12th-century ascetics.  Guy of Merton (d.1124) 'persecuted his flesh as if is were a dreadful enemy'.  For Cistercians, lice and mites were a badge of honour.

Generally, Augustinians were a bit cleaner.  Being more moderate - except the aforementioned Guy - they didn't really go in for tremendous discomfort.  The same Life of Guy notes that he would meet a harsh Somerset winter with 'only his tunic under a thin cape, with no woollen mantle.'  You wouldn't catch the author of the Life doing that.

According to the Barnwell observances, their canons, at least, had two uniforms, summer and winter.  The summer was a surplice, linen breeches, short leather hose, leather shoes, serge leggings, and a woollen cape.  In winter, they had either thick tunic or a lambskin cassock (oooooh), a lambskin to repair their choir cloak, a pair of felted boots, a pair of leggings, and two pairs of cloth shoes.  Presumably they also had leather shoes or boots for outdoor wear.

As Austin houses were independent, the uniformity of the uniform could be a problem, as Fizzard explains in 'Shoes, boots and leggings'.

Thomas Becket, on being elected archbishop of Canterbury, took on the habit of a Merton canon.  We're not quite sure what that means, as we don't know how different the habit of a Merton canon was from any other house.  But it's interesting, nonetheless.  Also interesting is that when Hubert Walter was elected to the same post, he also took on a Merton habit.  This was, of course, pinning his colours to Becket's mast, and Hubert also stopped using a gem in his counterseal and started using an image of the martyrdom of Thomas Becket.

Thomas Becket had a close relationship with Merton - one that is perhaps closer than official documents relate.  You can't get much closer than some linen next to the skin.  If it were full of mites, I suppose you could say that it got under his skin.

Bleurgh.