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CHAPTER XVI
Examples of Alcuin’s style in his letters, allusive, jocose, playful.—The perils of
the Alps.—The vision of Drithelme.—Letters to Arno.—Bacchus and Cupid.
We can imagine the beauty of this ivory comb, with one row of
sixty teeth,[245] the solid piece at the top being ornamented with a
lion’s head at each end looking outwards. A hundred years later, the
comb, if made in Northumbria, might have had a ridged top, with two
bears’ heads, the muzzles looking inwards. It was, no doubt, this
beautiful comb that played a large part in the miracles wrought by
Alcuin after his death, as described at page 49.
Considering the frequent passings to and fro across the Alps in
Alcuin’s time by Karl, and, indeed, by Alcuin himself, and the coming
and going between Salzburg, Arno’s see, and Gaul, we should have
expected more reference to the hardships of the way than we find in
the letters of Alcuin.
In writing to Remedius or Remigius, the Bishop of Chur, or Coire, a
place very well known now, he makes no reference to any difficulty in
reaching the city. It was, as we know, a place of considerable
importance, and it possesses to this day some very interesting
Carolingian charters. The only local allusion which Alcuin makes in
his various letters to Remedius informs us of the heavy tolls charged
by those who held the passes, a matter about which our King Canute
spoke so strongly to the Pope.
“By this letter I commend to your fatherly Ep. 213.
protection this merchant of ours, who is conveying
merchandise to Italy. Let him have safe passage over the roads of
your land in going and in returning. And in the defiles of the
mountains let him not be troubled by your officers of custom, but by
the freedom of your charity let him have free passage.”
The inconsiderable references which we do find to the difficulties
of the way come chiefly in the addresses of his letters. Thus he
addresses a letter to Arno, Archbishop of Salzburg, in these words:
—
“To the eagle that flies across the Alps; goes Ep. 91.
swiftly over the plains; stalks through the cities; a
humble inhabitant of the earth sends greeting.”
“To Paulinus, Patriarch of Aquileia. Ep. 129.
“Four friends send greeting across the waters of
the Alps in a ship laden with love.”
“To Peter, Archbishop of Milan. Ep. 200.
“O that I had the wings of an eagle, that I might
fly across the heights of the Alps swifter than the winds.”
In his Life of Willibrord,[246] cap. xxxii, he says:—
“The Alps of St. Maurice are exalted more felicitously by the blood
of the Theban saints than by the height of their snows.”
To Arno. Ep. 151.
“To my father, of most sweet love, the eagle
prelate, a swan from across the sea sends wishes for perpetual
health with the pen-feathers of holy affection.”
To Arno. Ep. 134.
“To the eagle, of all the birds of the Alpine heights most dear,
Albinus sends greeting.”
To Arno. Ep. 126.
“A love which neither the cold of the Alps nor the
heat of Italy can overthrow.”
To Arno. Ep. 101.
“I long to hear when the eagle, flying high,
transcends the summits of the Alps, and, wearied with flight,
composes its wings in the parts of Rhetia.”
It will have been noticed that most of these are addressed to the
Tyrol. It may be remarked that there are traditions of the presence of
Karl in the far east of the Alps, especially in a valley about twenty
miles due west of the city of Trent. Mr. D. W. Freshfield has
printed[247] the long Latin inscription which gives an explanation of
frescoes in the Church of San Stefano in Val Rendena, showing Karl
and a Pope baptizing heathen. The inscription credits the district with
having been full, in Karl’s time, of castles held by pagan lords or by
Jews, who were converted or slain.
We have an interesting evidence of the sufferings endured in
crossing the Alps in the later Anglo-Saxon times. It is well known that
persons who granted charters of lands, under conditions, invoked
desperate penalties on the heads of any who should attempt to
alienate the lands or trifle with the conditions. In the reigns of
Athelstane and Eadmund, under dates ranging from a.d. 938 to 946,
a West Saxon scribe produced and employed frequently a new form
and idea of curse. He made the royal and archiepiscopal signatories
indulge in the pious and fervent wish that any one who endeavoured
to violate the gift set forth in the charter might suffer from the cold
blasts of the ice-fields and the pennine host of malignant spirits[248].
William of Malmesbury relates[249] the death of an Archbishop of
Canterbury from cold in the passage of the Alps. When Odo died in
959, Aelfsin, the Bishop of Winchester, bought the archbishopric and
behaved with mad violence. He stamped on the grave of Odo,
addressing him as “worst of old men”, taunting him that he had got
his desire (which Odo had always opposed), namely, the succession
to the archbishopric. That night the departed Odo appeared to him in
a dream and warned him of a speedy end. Aelfsin disregarded the
warning, and set off to Rome for the pallium. On the way across the
Alps he was overcome with cold. His feet were frost-bitten, and there
was no remedy but to put them into the warm carcasses of
disembowelled horses, these feet with which he had done violence
to the grave of Odo. Even so he could not get warm, and he was
frozen to death. His death made way for Dunstan, and he is not
reckoned among the archbishops.
The misery of extreme cold was a familiar fact to the
Northumbrians after the experiences of Benedict Biscop and others
in crossing the Alps. It is brought out in a very graphic way in the
description which Bede gives of the trance of one Drithelme[250],
who had appeared to be dead for six hours. Among other
remarkable visions of the other world, he came in his trance to a
valley, on one side of which was piercing cold, and on the other
unquenchable fire. The unhappy souls, tortured in the biting cold,
leaped madly across for warmth into the flames. Then, scorched in
the fearful heat, they sprang back again for coolness into the
torturing cold. In that continual alternation of tortures their time was
spent. Drithelme was wont ever after, in beating down his animal
passions, to stand up to his neck in the river, even in winter with
broken masses of ice dashing against him. And when one called to
him from the bank, “I wonder, brother Drithelme, that you endure
such cold,” he would reply, “I, at least, have seen worse cold than
this.”
Here is a peep behind the scenes in connexion with the morals of
a Pope, and an example of wisdom in burning letters that ought not
to see the light. Alcuin is writing to Arno.
“You were the third cause of my [proposed] Ep. 127. a.d. 799.
journey. The first was that of the churches of Christ.
The second was that of the lord king, because mourning in tears I
left him; my desire being to inscribe on my soul a perpetual memory
of the joy of his presence. The third was the longing to see the most
sweet face of your dearness. But I am prevented from accomplishing
that which I have strongly wished to accomplish. It will come to pass
through your holy prayers, if it do but please Him without whom
nothing good can be done.
“Your former letter[251], which reached us under your name,
contained some complaints about the manner of life of the
apostolic[252] and about the danger you were in when with him by
reason of the Romans. Your clerk Baldric, as I suppose, brought it,
bringing also a cope stitched together in the Roman fashion, a
vestment of linen and wool. As I did not wish that your letter should
fall into other hands, Candidus alone read it with me; and then I put it
in the fire, lest any scandal should arise through carelessness on the
part of the keeper of my papers....
“I would gladly write more, but the runner has your orders to get
back quickly.”
Nothing could exceed the affectionateness of Alcuin’s letters to
Arno, the Archbishop of Salzburg, to whose care in preserving the
letters addressed to him we owe so much. Arno’s name recalled to
Alcuin’s mind the early days when he saw hovering in the Yorkshire
skies the great eagles that gave their Anglian name of earn (arn) to
Arncliffe and other places. He always thought of him as the Arn,
addressed him as the Aquila, the eagle.
“To the Eagle, most noble of birds, the Goose, Ep. 108. a.d. 798.
with strident voice, sends greeting.
“When I heard of you as winging your way from transalpine hills to
your nest of sweetest quiet, a great repose shone suddenly forth
upon my mind anxious on your account. My mind flew back, as from
crashing storms, to a haven of placid peace. For love is wont to be
joyful in prosperity and oppressed in adversity. Thus it is that the
voice of the bride, bewailing the absence of the longed-for spouse,
cries ‘I am wounded with love’.[253] For both are true: your love
wounds, and it heals. One part of the wound inflicted by love remains
an open sore, your longed-for face has not yet beamed upon the
eyes of your lover. The anxiety of not knowing that you were well has
been removed from my mind, but the hunger of the eyes is not yet
appeased by the sight of your countenance. This Sorrow we trust
may very soon be taken away, by the ministry of that grace which
has deigned to remove the anxiety of mind by the arrival of your
letters; and then he who desires both health and vision will be full of
joy in the arrival of yourself.
“You have written to me of the religious life and justness of the lord
apostolic[254], what great and unjust trials he suffers at the hands of
the children of discord. I confess that I glow with great joy that the
father of the churches sets himself about the service of God with
pious and faithful mind, without guile. No wonder that justice suffers
persecution in his person at the hands of evil men, when in our
Chief, the fount of all goodness and justice, the God Christ, justice
suffered persecution even unto death.”
After referring sympathetically to Arno’s complaints that his life has
been a very unquiet one of late, by reason of much travelling, Alcuin
continues:—
“There is one journey upon which I wish that you would enter.
Would that I could see you praying in the venerable temple of
blessed Martin our protector, that thy supplication and ours might
restore my strength, that by Christ’s mercy the pious consolation of
love might advance us both on the way of perpetual beatitude. How
this may come about, let your providence consider. If the opportunity
of the present year does not grant to us our will, by reason of the
hindrance of affairs, may we meet in quiet times and at a quiet
season, after Easter of next year, at St. Amand[255]. The frequent
infirmity of my poor little body would make a long journey very
fatiguing to me in the storms of winter.”
Arno could himself write a genial and affectionate letter. One of his
letters to the Cuckoo[256] has been preserved:—
“Kartula dic: Cuculus valeat per saecula nostra. Ep. 287.
To the very dear bird the Cuckoo the Eagle sends
greeting.
“Be mindful of thyself and of me. Do what I have enjoined,
accomplish what you have promised. Be gentle and true to our father
[Alcuin], obedient and devoted to God. Love Him who has raised
thee from the mire and set thee to stand before princes. Stand like a
man against your adversary; go higher, never lower; advance, never
fall back....
“I have dipped my pen in love to write this letter. Rise, rise, most
pleasing bird. The winter is passing away; the rains have gone; the
flowers are showing on the earth; the time of song has come. Let
your friends—that is, the angelic dignities—hear your voice. Your
voice is sweet to them, may your appearance be fair in the eyes of
the Lord thy God, who desires your presence.”
The Cuckoo’s enemy, against whom he was to fight manfully, was
drink. He was evidently a very sweet and sympathetic singer at the
frequent feasts,[257] and was not sufficiently careful in respect of
strong drink. Alcuin’s Carmen 277 mourns in forty-eight lines the
absence of the Cuckoo, gone they did not know where. Some of the
lines are significant: “Ah me! if Bacchus has sunk him in that
pestiferous vortex!” And again: “Alas! that impious Bacchus, I
suppose, is entertaining him, Bacchus who desires to subvert all
hearts. Weep for the Cuckoo, weep all for the Cuckoo. He left us in
triumph, in tears he will return. Would that we had the Cuckoo, even
in tears; for then with the Cuckoo we could weep.”
Though himself a judge of wine, with a decided preference for
good and ripe wine, Alcuin was a determined advocate for strict
temperance. Total abstinence was not his idea of temperance. Of
another temptation of the physical senses he says surprisingly little;
indeed, he hardly ever refers to it. In Carmen 260, To his brothers of
York, a poem with a charming description of spring in its opening
verses, he gives to the younger brethren a very direct warning on
both of these physical temptations[258]:—
“Let not the tipsy Bacchus cast his fetters upon you, nor, noxious,
wipe out the lessons engraved on your minds. Nor let that wicked
Cretan boy, armed with piercing darts, drive you from the citadel of
safety.”
The conversion of Arno into Aquila was very natural to a
Yorkshireman. In several cases we can only guess at the Teutonic
names which Alcuin translated into Latin; for example, Gallicellulus
(Ep. 260). In two cases, at least, he translates into Greek.
Cambridge men who remember with much affection their private
tutor in Mathematics, William Walton, will remember his skill in thus
rendering names; his Prosgennades still survives, known to the
world as Atkinson. With Alcuin, Hechstan becomes Altapetra. The
abbess Adaula evidently had a Teutonic name. Anthropos was his
friend Monna. Stratocles had some such name as Heribercht. Epistle
282 is addressed, very near the end of his life, “to my best-loved
friends in Christ, brother and son, Anthropos and Stratocles, the
humble levite Alchuine sends greeting.” Epistle 283, of the same late
date, is addressed “to my dearest son Altapetra, the levite Albinus
sends greeting”. In the course of this letter to Hechstan, Alcuin sends
greetings and requests for prayers to two friends whose names
would not fall very easily into Latin, Scaest and Baegnod, the latter a
common Anglo-Saxon name, usually in the form Beagnoth, with the
final d aspirated. It occurs in runes on a knife in the British Museum,
and is found in Kent and Wessex.
CHAPTER XVII
Grammatical questions submitted to Alcuin by Karl.—Alcuin and Eginhart.—
Eginhart’s description of Charlemagne.—Alcuin’s interest in missions.—The
premature exaction of tithes.—Charlemagne’s elephant Abulabaz.—Figures of
elephants in silk stuffs.—Earliest examples of French and German.—Boniface’s
Abrenuntiatio Diaboli.—Early Saxon.—The earliest examples of Anglo-Saxon
prose and verse.