From the Perpetual Almanack of Folklore by Charles Kightly
I began my perpetual Almanac of the Past three years ago on the 31st October 2021. This was the first line:
‘This blog is to celebrate the Year. I will post, hopefully, once a day, so we can follow the seasons, as they happen naturally, and as people in Britain and Ireland have responded to the changes in the year.’
It was inspired by Charles Kightly’s book, which is a pot-pourri of folklore taken mostly from old Almanacs. I haven’t managed, yet to create a post for every day of the year, nearly managed it in the winter but falling badly behind in the Summer when I take Road Scholar groups around the UK. My plan is to fill in the gaps, improve posts and get rid of typos. Another aim is to add more London-specific content.
Cover of Charles Kightly’s Perpetual Almanac
I started on Halloween because Samhain (pronounced Sow-in) was the beginning of the year for the Celtic world. It may mean Summer’s End. In Wales, it is Calan Gaeaf (first day of winter) and Kala Goafiv (beginning of November in Brittany).
Why did the Celts start their year at such an unlikely time? A clue is that they began the next day at dusk. The Sun dies at dusk so it is the end of the day, and the next day begins with the death of the old day.
So the New Year begins with the Death of the Old Year. Now that might suggest the Winter Solstice as the best time to start the year as this celebrates the death of the old Sun. But if you think about it, this time of the year is the end of the year. The harvest is in, the fruits in the trees and the nuts are harvested, all the growth of the Summer is over and collected. Plants are dead or dormant, except some evergreens. It is the end of the growing year. The seeds have fallen from the trees and shrubs and are nestling in the soil, ready to begin their cycle again. All is over and all is ready for the new year. Makes sense?
It also explains eves; Christmas Eve, New Year’s Eve, May Eve, All Hallow’s Eve. They are not the night before the day, they are the beginning of the day. This is when you begin the celebration.
For the Romans, today is the day that Adonis is injured hunting a wild boar. Against his lover’s (Venus) advice, he descends to the underworld. Nature withers and dies until he returns from the underworld. His blood stains a flower and was transformed into the Crimson Anemone. There is a similar story in Babylon of Ishtar and Tammuz.
By Alexander Marshall, crimson and other anemones Binyon 1898-1907 / Catalogue of drawings by British artists, and artists of foreign origin working in Great Britain (5(c))
Adonis comes back on May Day when he meets Venus again, so the world flourishes and is bright and warm.
Julius Caesar says the Gauls venerated the God Dis Pater on this day – an aspect of Pluto, the God of the Underworld, ruler of the Dead. There was a Roman Festival on the Kalends of November dedicated to Pomona, the goddess of the fruit of trees. This may influence the use of Apples, which are prominent in Halloween festivities.
On Thursday, I am doing my first London Walk Virtual Tour of the winter season.
The walk tells the story of London’s myths and legends and the Celtic origins of Halloween.
The walk will tell the story of London’s Myths and Legends, beginning with the tale of London’s legendary origins in the Bronze Age by an exiled Trojan called Brutus. Stories of Bladud, Belinus, Bran and Arthur will be interspersed with how they fit in with archaeological discoveries.
As we around the City, we also look at the origins of Halloween celebrations and how they may have been celebrated in early London
The virtual route starts at Tower Hill, then down to the River Thames at Billingsgate, to London Bridge and Southwark Cathedral, to the Roman Forum at the top of Cornhill, into the valley of the River Walbrook, passed the Temple of Mithras, along Cheapside to the Roman Amphitheatre, and finishing up in the shadow of St Pauls.
REVIEWS (from London Walks website) “Kevin, I just wanted to drop you a quick email to thank you ever so much for your archaeological tours of London! I am so thrilled to have stumbled upon your tours! I have wanted to be an archaeologist since 1978 at the ripe old age of 8 years,… I was told for years that I could not be an archaeologist [for any number of reasons, which I now realise are completely ridiculous!], so I ended up on a different course of study. And now at the age of 50, it is my one great regret in life. So, I am thoroughly enjoying living vicariously through you, the digs you’ve been on, and the history you bring to life for us! British archaeology would have been my specific area of study had I pursued it. ?? Thank you SO MUCH for these! I look forward to them more than you can imagine, and honestly, I’ll be sad if you get them down to 1.5 hours! They’re the best 2 hours of my week! 🙂 Best, Sue
St Artemios is the patron saint of male genital disorders, more specifically, hernias and ruptures. His Saint’s Day is October 20th St. Artemios was Governor of Egypt during the reign of Julian the Apostate (331 – 26 June 363). Julian was a philosopher. nephew to Constantine the Great, who tried to turn the tide and return to traditional Roman religious practices. Artemios was called to a military meeting with Julian where he witnessed and objected to abuse of Christians. He was tortured with red hot irons, and miraculously cured. Then he was taken to the Amphitheatre where there was a big stone broken in half, and was put on half stone and the other half was raised above him and released crushing Artemios. He was presumed dead, and left for a day. But he was still alive, broken boned, disembowelled, eyeless and remained unwilling to renounce his religion and Julian ordered his beheading.
A noble woman took his body to Constantinople where his shrine soon started attracting miracles. In the 7th Century an anonymous author compiled a record of the miracles. St Artemios had become known for healing hernias and genital disorders ‘mostly in men.’ I’m not sure entirely why. Perhaps because of the red-hot pokers? The disembowelling? Maybe the stone that crushed was round?
I first came across the Saint when my mother-in-law bought me a wonderful book called ‘A Medieval Miscellany selected by Judith Herrin and with an introduction by the great Emmanuel Le Roy Ladurie (see Jan 27th Post to read about Montaillou and Ladurie). It had a colourful spread called ‘The Miracle of the Testicles’ which was the story told by Stephen, a 7th Century deacon of St. Sophia in Constantinople who ‘suffered a rupture, whether from shouting acclamations or from a heavy weight, I cannot say.’
To cut a long story short, Stephen was very embarrassed by his condition and eventually tried many cures and finally undertook surgery, which was successful but very soon the condition reoccurred which left him to despair.
Scrotal Hernia Operation, italy
So he planned to visit the shrine of the great healer of testicles, but was too embarrassed to stand in the Church ashamed to be seen by friends. But passing by one day he nipped into the Tomb, descended to where the relics were and ‘cast’ some of the Saint’s holy oil on his testicles. He then found, much to his surprise, that the doors to the Coffin itself were open. Seeing this as a divine intervention he jumped onto the coffin, straddled it face down, so that the corner of the tomb was rubbing his testicles and prayed:
‘And with tears, I spoke again to the martyr: “St.Artemios, by God, Who has given you the gift of cures, no doctor on Earth will ever touch me again. So if you please, cure me. But if not, to your everlasting shame I will live thus without cure.‘
He was not cured immediately. Later he went to the Hot Baths and bathed, and on leaving the baths, thanks be to St Artemios, he was completely cured.
I have transcribed the translation of Stephen’s writings and place it here below as it has many fascinating aspects and remember it is a 7th Century account. But what an extraordinary tale: that it seems reasonable to steal into a tomb, take the holy oil, rub your genitals all over the shrine, and then tell the Saint that it will be to his everlasting shame if he does not make the cure!
For more on the Hospital of Sampson click here. Livanon is one of the Roman Baths in Constantinople and it is interesting that the cure follows bathing in them. The Oxeia is a neighbourhood in Constantinople connected with St Antemios. A cautery is a method to remove or close off a part of the body. It can be hot, cold or chemical.
At long last I disclosed the misfortune to my parents, and after many treatments, (how many!) had been performed on me. Finally, after taking counsel with them, I entrusted myself for surgery to the surgeons in the hospital Sampson, and I reclined in the hospital room near to the entrance to the area devoted to eyes.
After I had been treated all over for three days at night with cold cauteries, surgery was performed on the fourth day. I will omit to what horrible things I experienced while on my back.
To sum up everything, I state that I actually despaired of life itself at the hands of the physicians. After God, entreated by the tears of my parents, restored my life to me, and after the scar from the incision and the cautery had healed, and just as I was believing that I was healthy, a short time later, the same condition recurred and so I reverted to my former state…
I had a plan to approach the holy martyr, as I had heard of his many great miracles. Still, I was unwilling to wait in the venerable church feeling ashamed before friends and acquaintances to be seen by them in such condition. But I frequently used to pass by (for at that time, I was staying in the Oxeia). And so I descended to the holy tomb of his precious relics, and I cast some of his holy blessing, I. e. oil on my testicles, hoping to procure a cure in this manner. And frequently, I entreated him to deliver me from the troublesome condition…
After descending to the holy tomb, I found the doors in front open and I was astounded that they were opened at such an hour. This was the doing of the martyr, in his desire to pity me, Stretching out facedown on the holy coffin, I straddled it, and thus contrived to rub the corner of the same Holy tomb on the spot where I was ailing. And with tears, I spoke again to the martyr: “St.Artemios, by God, Who has given you the gift of cures, no doctor on earth will ever touch me again. So if you please, cure me. But if not, to your everlasting shame I will live thus without cure.’ And after some days I went to the bath in the court of Anthemios, the one called Livanon to bathe by myself at dawn in order not to be seen by anyone . And entering the hot chamber, I noticed that I still had the injury. But upon exiting, I had no injury, and recognising the act of kindness on the part of God and the martyr which is befallen me… in thanksgiving… I do now glorify them proclaiming their deeds of greatness throughout my whole life.
From Medieval Miscellany selected by Judith Herrin Pg 54 the Miracle of the Testicles
Originally, published on February 13th 2023 Revised, and republished October 20th 2024
On the 23rd of February 2023 I opened this post with the following:
I hope you will forgive me for raising this subject early because of personal circumstances.
Yesterday, I did a Chaucer’s London Virtual Tour – one I first prepared during the dark days of Covid. As I was revising the presentation, I was surprised to discover that I had illustrated a piece on medieval health care (St Thomas Hospital, Chaucer’s Physician) with images of medieval hernia operations. Surprised, because I am currently recovering from an inguinal hernia operation and suffering a little so that the image (above) which, coincidently, popped up in facebook made me laugh. Obviously, I was meant to write about testicles today.
St. Michael weighing souls during the Last Judgement, Antiphonale Cisterciense (15th century), Abbey Bibliotheca, Rein Abbey, Austria (Wikimedia by Dnalor_01 license (CC-BY-SA 3.0))
It is the day that the Devil fell out of heaven and landed in a Blackberry Bush, and you are, therefore, not supposed to eat them after October 11th. St Michael’s Day is celebrated on September 29th but before September 1752, it was celebrated on what is now October 11th, Old Style. This means before the introduction in the UK of the Gregorian Calendar.
Saint Michael is the chief of the archangels. Saint Gabriel was celebrated on the eve of the Annunciation on 24 March. St Raphael on the 24th October, But more recently the Churches celebrate all the Archangels at Michaelmas, which is often now called the celebration of St Michael and All Angels.
Apart from its religious significance, St Michael’s Mass was an important date on the civic calendar. Terms began, rent fell due, and work contracts ran out. It was the end of the ploughman’s year, and the day when Hiring Festivals or Mop Festivals took place. Look at my post on the Stratford Mop festival
So in Oxford, the autumn term is called Michaelmas. The Spring Term Hilary on St Hilary’s Festival of January 14th, and the third term is called Trinity, which takes place on Trinity Sundaythe first Sunday after Pentecost. The law courts also have a Michaelmas term.
It is one of the Quarter Day’s of the year, close to the Solstices and the Equinox into which the medieval and early modern world was divided:
It is probably too late to tell you this year, but it is said that “if you eat goose on Michaelmas Day you will never lack money all year” or as they said in Yorkshire ‘He’at eateth goose on Michaelmas won’t find his pockets short of brass.’ Jane Austen wrote to Cassandra on Michelmas 1813L ‘I dined upon goose today, which I hope with secure a good sale of my second edition.’ Pride and Prejudice was published in 1813.
St Michael is one of seven (or four, depending on traditions) angels. He was protector of the Israel. He has four main roles in heaven. He is the leader of the heavenly host in its defeat of Satan. He is the Angel of Death, the Weigher of Souls, and the Guardian of the Church.
What I really admire are people who, through their sheer brain power, can change our views of the world. The first example that comes to mind is Newton’s insight that if the universe were infinite, the night sky would not be dark as everywhere there would be tiny pinpricks of starlight. So, we don’t live in a infinite universe. Another one is Einstein’s thought experiment that proves that time is relative. But see below for a description of that.
But now to Goodricke.
Yesterday in York, near the Minster, I saw the blue sign above, which I read and thought, what on earth are ‘variable stars’? Behind me, I heard two women say something like. ‘Here it is,”variable stars”‘. I turned around and asked them what was a variable star?
‘Donno’ they said, ‘we’ve ‘just doing this escape room walk around York.’ They showed me a booklet they had received on the internet, which was what I would call a treasure trail. But no, they insisted, ‘this is an escape room adventure where we collect clues to decipher the code to escape’.
Such is the modern tourist! Sadly, they showed no interest in finding out what a variable star is!
Aristotle and ancient philosophers held that the universe was unchanging and eternal. The first breach in that theory was the identification in 1638 of star Omicron Ceti by Johannes Holwarda who discovered that the start pulsed on an 11 month cycle. This and the discovery, of supernovae (first observed in 1572), proved that the ‘The starry sky was not eternally invariable’.
John Goodricke was educated at Thomas Braidwood‘s Academy, school for deaf pupils in Edinburgh, and Warrington Academy. He returned to live with his parents who rented an apartment at the Treasurer’s Hall, near the Minister in York, and used a friend’s personal observatory to look for variable stars. He found two of the first 10, and was the first to propose a solution, which was that two stars orbited each other causing eclipses between them and the observer, and thus creating a variation in the light emitted. To be able to extrapolate from a simple observation and provide an explanation which necessitates a complete rethink about the nature of the universe seems, to me, to be awesome.
Back to Einstein, his thought experiment was something like this:
A train is travelling through a station. There is an observer on the train towards the front, another on the platform as the train goes through. There are two simultaneous lighting strikes at either end of the train. The observer on the platform sees the strikes as simultaneous as she is in the middle between the two lighting strkes and light travels at the same speed. The observer on the train who is near the front of the train will see the lighting strike at the front of the train before the light from the back of the train can reach him as it has further to go.
This is mind-boggling, and I’m never sure what to make of it but it means that time is not a constant it is relative to the observer. And yet, we see time as a constant, something that remorselessly ticks forward and which we cannot alter. But it isn’t.
Kalendar of Shepherds illustration of September showing harvesting grapes and the astrological signs for Virgo (August 23 – September 22) and Libra (September 23 – October 22)
It is that time of the year when you say ‘Where has the Summer gone? It can’t be September already?’ But, metrologically speaking, Autumn starts today. September 1st was chosen on a numerical basis for ease of measuring rather than any profound floral, agricultural or solar reason. So, there are three Gregorian Calendar months for each season, and each season starts on the first of the month. Autumn comes from Latin (autumnus) which went into French and then into English. The season was also called Harvest (which went into Dutch herfst, German Herbst, and Scots hairst -Wikipedia) or from the 16th Century the ‘fall of the year’ or ‘fall of the leaf’ which spread to America.
It still feels like summer this year, with flowers doing well in my garden and not looking too tired. In England, we often have a glorious September, and an ‘Indian’ Summer.
Of course, for the real Autumn, we have to wait for the Equinox, the beginning of Astronomical or Solar Autumn. This year (2024) on September 22nd.
The stars signs for astrological September are: Virgo which is linked to Aphrodite (Venus) the Goddess of Love and Libra is linked to Artemis (Diana), virgin goddess of many things, including hunting, wild animals, children, and birth.
Star signs for September
September gets its name from the Romans, for whom it was the 7th Month of the year (septem is Latin for seven). Later, they added two new months so it became our 9th Month. (For more on the Roman year, look at my post here).
It is called Halegmonath in the early English language, or the holy month, named because it is the month of offerings, because of the harvest, and the mellow fruitfulness of September? Medi in Welsh is the month of reaping, and An Sultuine in Gaelic which means the month of plenty.
Roman personification of Autumn from Lullingstone mosaic
Here is an early 17th Century look at September from the Kalendar of Shepherds – for more on the Kalendar, look at my post here.
From the Kalendar of Shepherds
The Kalendar has an additional shorter look at September and continues with its linking of the 12 months of the year with the lifespan of a man – 6 years for each month. So September is a metaphor for man at 56 years of age, in their prime and preparing for old age.
September from the Kalendar of Shepherds. The last sentence beginning ‘and then is man’ shows the link between September and the beginning of the autumn of life.
Keats (1795 – 1821) wrote a great poem about Autumn:
To Autumn
Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness, Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun; Conspiring with him how to load and bless With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eves run; To bend with apples the moss’d cottage-trees, And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core; To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells With a sweet kernel; to set budding more, And still more, later flowers for the bees, Until they think warm days will never cease, For summer has o’er-brimm’d their clammy cells.
Who hath not seen thee oft amid thy store? Sometimes whoever seeks abroad may find Thee sitting careless on a granary floor, Thy hair soft-lifted by the winnowing wind; Or on a half-reap’d furrow sound asleep, Drowsed with the fume of poppies, while thy hook Spares the next swath and all its twined flowers: And sometimes like a gleaner thou dost keep Steady thy laden head across a brook; Or by a cider-press, with patient look, Thou watchest the last oozings, hours by hours.
Where are the songs of Spring? Ay, where are they? Think not of them, thou hast thy music too,— While barred clouds bloom the soft-dying day, And touch the stubble-plains with rosy hue; Then in a wailful choir the small gnats mourn Among the river sallows, borne aloft Or sinking as the light wind lives or dies; And full-grown lambs loud bleat from hilly bourn; Hedge-crickets sing; and now with treble soft The redbreast whistles from a garden-croft, And gathering swallows twitter in the skies.
Written September 19, 1819; first published in 1820. This poem is in the public domain and available here:
I am finishing my post on September, and using the Kalendar of Shepherds. As you may have noticed, I often use the Kalendar of Shepherds to provide an insight into how the seasons were seen in the past. Mostly, I use it for the posts at the beginning of each month. I have created this page as a placeholder to put information on the Kalendar for anyone who is eager to explore it more or to make use of it. Each month I will link to it, so I do not have to repeat the basic information about the Kalendar. Much of this text was contained in the December post, and I have used this month as my example. Tomorrow, you will get the September version.
About the Kalendar of Shepherds.
The Kalendar was printed in 1493 in Paris and provided ‘Devices for the 12 Months.’ The version I’m using is a modern (1908) reconstruction of it. It uses wood cuts from the original 15th Century version and adds various texts from 16th and 17th Century sources. (Couplets by Tusser ‘Five Hundred Parts of Good Husbandrie 1599. Text descriptions of the month from Nicholas Breton’s ‘Fantasticks of 1626. This provides an interesting view of what was going on in the countryside every month.
The Kalendar of Shepherds has an illustration for each month (December above) which shows typical activities for the time of year, and has inserts to identify the astrological signs of the month. So, in December they are baking and collecting firewood. The star signs are Sagittarius (November 22 – December 21) and Capricorn(December 22 – January 19).
The text below gives a vivid description of December weather and then elaborates on the last six years of a man’s life, with hair going white, body ‘crooked and feeble’. The conceit here is that there are twelve months of the year, and a man’s lot of ‘Six score years and ten’ is allocated six years to each month. So December is not just about the 12th months of the Year but also the last six years of a person’s allotted span. The piece allows the option of living beyond 72, ‘and if he lives any more, it is by his good guiding and dieting in his youth.’ Good advice, as we now know. But living to 100 is open to but few.
Kalendar of Shepherds
The longer description of December (shown below) is by Breton (1626) and gives a detailed look at the excesses of Christmas, who is on holiday, and who working particularly hard. But it concludes it is a costly month.
Portrait of Saint Guénolé (St Winnold) after a bust in silver on a reliquary from the Church Saint-Guénolé in Locquénolé.Public Domain Abgrall Jean-Marie (1846-1926) – Bibliothèque nationale de France
Here is a weather poem in which St Winnold appears
First comes David, then comes Chad. And comes Winnold, roaring like mad. White or black. Or old house thack.
St David’s Day was March 1st. St Chad, the 2nd. St Winnold’s Day is the third of March. Winnold is his English name, and Winneral, or Winwaloe or Guénolé his Celtic names.
The poem suggests that snow, rain or wind is going to come on these three days. When the wind roars, it will threaten the thatch of houses. If the storms do not come in the first 3 days, then they will come on the last three days of March. Or so it is said.
St Winnold was around 50 years (460 – 3 March 532) after the end of Roman Britain. His family was from Cornwall. He was the son of a Prince Fragan of Dumnonia, and St Gwen the Three-Breasted, His mother’s Feast day is October 3rd. She is a Saint of fertility, because of God’s Gift of an extra breast. They moved to Brittany to escape a British Plague. Their son grew up to be holy and was the founder and first abbot of Landévennec Abbey (the Monastery of Winwaloe). It is south of Brest.
Winwaloe became what is known as a ‘phallic saint’ because he was associated with fertility. Wikipedia says this came about because of confusion about the origin of his name:
‘his name was thought to derive from gignere (French engendrer, “to beget”)’
St Winnold’s Breton name is Guénolé. How this etymology works is not clear to me! But surely, he as likely to have got a reputation for helping people with fertility problems from his mother? Supplicants would make a wax phallus to persuade the Saint to help them conceive. There are several churches/ chapels dedicated to him in Wales, and a Priory in East Anglia.
August was originally ‘sextilis’ or the 6th Month of the ten-month Roman Calendar. It became the 8th Month with the addition of January and February (by tradition during the reign of King Numa Pompilius). It was changed from a 29-day month to a 31-day month in the reforms of Julius Caesar. It was subsequently renamed August by a sycophantic Senate trying to flatter the divine Octavian, Emperor Augustus. (more about the Roman Calendar here)
In modern Irish, it is Lúnasa, which means the month of the festival of Lughnasa. In Welsh, it is Awst which comes from the Latin. In Anglo-Saxon: the Venerable Bede, writing in the 8th Century, says August is Wēodmōnaþ or the Weed Month, named, he says, because of the proliferation of weeds. Why does that seem such an unsatisfactory name for August? An early Kentish source calls the month Rugern – perhaps the month of the harvest of Rye? (Winters in the World by Eleanor Parker).
The 15th Century illustration in the Kalendar of Shepherds, above, shows that the Harvest is the main attribute of the Month, and the star signs, Leo and Virgo.
The 16th/17th Century text in the Kalendar of Shepherds gives an evocative insight into the month. (more about the Kalendar here)
For the Anglo-Saxons, August brings in the harvest period, the most important months of the year, where the bounty of the earth needs to be carefully collected, enjoyed but not wasted. It begins with the festival of Lammas, which derives from the English words for bread and mass, when bread made from the first fruits of the harvest is blessed.
In Ireland, it is one of the great Celtic quarter days, named Lughnasa, the festival of the God Lugh, celebrated with games, fairs, ceremonies. Called Calan Awst in Wales, it is the festival of August.
The quarter days, are halfway between the Solstices and Equinoxes and are: Samhain (1 Nov) Imbolc (1 Feb), Beltane (1 May) and Lughnasa (1 Aug) and all are, or can be seen as, a turning point in the farming year.
The Gallic Coligny ‘Celtic’ Calendar records August as a ‘great festival month’. The stone-carved Calendar was found near Lyon, whose Roman name was Lugodunum. The town is named after the Gaulish God Lugos, to whom, the Irish Lugh and the Welsh Llew Llaw Gyffes are probably related. He has an unstoppable fiery spear, a sling stone, and a hound called Failinis. The Romans associate Lugos with Mercury, and the Church with St Michael.
Lughnasa, (meaning the festival of Lugh) was founded by the God himself to honour his foster mother Tailtiu at Brega Co. Meath. Tailtiu became one of Ireland’s greatest festivals, springing from the horse races and marital contests set up by Lugh. In Gaelic Scotland it is called Lunasuinn, and Laa Luanistyn in the Isle of Man.
The festival is a harvest festival, celebrating the ripening of wheat, barley, rye, and potatoes. It is 6 months after Imbolc and records the ending of lactation of lambs and the beginning of the tupping season. It can be celebrated by climbing hills, visiting springs, wells, lakes and eating bilberries. (Myths and Legends of the Celts. James MacKillop).
St Germanus of Auxerre, Window in St Paul’s parish church, Morton, Lincolnshire, made by Sir Edward Burne-Jones and William Morris in 1914. Photo by Jenny of Jules & Jenny from Lincoln, UK (CC BY 2.0 Wikimedia Photo by Jenny of Jules & Jenny from Lincoln, UK)
St Germanus is the source of one of the few contemporary references to Britain in the 5th Century (the Dark Ages). One of his followers wrote his life story. The Saint, a Bishop in France, was sent to Britain because the Pelagian Heresy was endangering the Catholic version of Christianity. Pelagius was a highly educated British (or possibly Irish) priest who moved to Rome in the late 4th Century. He lived by a strict moral code, attacking Catholic laxity and opposing St Augustine of Hippo’s theory of Divine Grace. By contrast, Pelagius promoted human choice in salvation and denied the doctrine of original sin. Wikipedia tells us that he:
considered it an insult to God that humans could be born inherently sinful or biased towards sin, and Pelagius believed that the soul was created by God at conception, and therefore could not be imbued with sin as it was solely the product of God’s creative agency.
17th Century print of Pelagius
Germanus was sent to Britain, where he confronted Pelagian converts in a public debate which is thought to have taken place in a disused Roman amphitheatre. The author is not interested in Britain, per se, so does not tell us which town it was, but, it is mostly assumed to be St Albans, although London is possible.
In the stadium, the Saint and his acolytes confound the heretics and, so, convert the town’s people sitting watching the debate. St Germanus goes to a nearby shrine of St Alban to thank God, falls asleep in a hut, and is miraculously saved from a fire. He then comes across a man called a Tribune, and helps defeat a Saxon army in the ‘Alleluia’ victory. The importance of all this is that it, in about 429AD, gives us a few glimpses of Britain two decades after the Romans have left, and that Britain stayed in the Catholic fold.
The British Bishops were led in their heresy by someone called Agricola. The writer describes these bishops as ‘conspicuous for riches, brilliant in dress and surrounded by a fawning multitude’. The use of the title ‘Tribune’ in the story suggests Roman administrative titles are still in use 19 years after the date of the ‘formal’ end of Roman Britain, 410AD. The Alleluia victory over the Saxons also gives us an early date for Saxon presence in the country as an enemy.
St Albans is the favoured choice for the location of the event because, Bede tells us St Albans was born, martyred and commemorated in Verulamium, now called St Albans. Archaeology shows possible post Roman occupation of the town. And it has a famous Amphitheatre.
However, Gildas, who is writing 200 years or more before Bede, tells us St Alban was born in Verulamium but martyred in London, which makes sense as London was the late Roman Capital and more likely to be the site of a martyrdom. There is also a church dedicated to St Albans close to the Roman Amphitheatre, where Gildas tells us the execution took place. The Church cannot, unfortunately, be, archaeologically dated back to 429AD.
Bede’s account of the martyrdom of St Albans is also somewhat farcical, as God divides the waters of the River Ver for Alban to get to his martyrdom more quickly. The bridge was said to be full of people walking to witness Alban’s execution, and blocking Albans path to Heaven. But the Ver is but a piddle, and it would be easy to walk over without needing wellington boats, let along a miracle to get to the otherside. This story is much more impressive,in Gildas’ version who has the miraculous crossing over the River Thames.
Had Pelegius won and the Roman Church had a more optimistic view of the human spirit, would it have made any difference? It’s a big question, but maybe it would have left less room for pessimism and guilt?
What were the effects of original sin? …. it damaged our relationship with God. He seemed distant, we became mistrustful. We lost sanctifying grace. The weakening of the will, making us more prone to temptation. The darkening of the intellect. Increased vulnerability to sickness and disease. Spiritual death.
Germanus died in Ravenna.
For more on Nick Fuentes and his theories on St Germanus, St Patrick and King Arthur click here:
