Here's my first extract from William of Newburgh's History of English Affairs from the 12th century. I'll also be placing it in the William of Newburgh page to the right for your further reference.
Of certain prodigies
.jpg "Melrose Monastery, Northumbria") |
| Melrose Abbey, the province of the Hound priest |
 | ||
| Skeletons |
It would not be easy to
believe that the corpses of the dead should sally (I know not by what agency)
from their graves, and should wander about to the terror or destruction of the
living, and again return to the tomb, which of its own accord spontaneously
opened to receive them, did not frequent examples, occurring in our own times,
suffice to establish this fact, to the truth of which there is abundant
testimony. It would be strange if such things should have happened formerly,
since we can find no evidence of them in the works of ancient authors, whose
vast labour it was to commit to writing every occurrence worthy of memory; for
if they never neglected to register even events of moderate interest, how could
they have suppressed a fact at once so amazing and horrible, supposing it to
have happened in their day? Moreover, were I to write down all the instances of
this kind which I have ascertained to have befallen in our times, the
undertaking would be beyond measure laborious and troublesome; so I will fain
add two more only (and these of recent occurrence) to those I have already
narrated, and insert them in our history, as occasion offers, as a warning to
posterity.
A few years ago the
chaplain of a certain illustrious lady, casting off mortality, was consigned to
the tomb in that noble monastery which is called Melrose. This man, having
little respect for the sacred order to which he belonged, was excessively
secular in his pursuits, and -- what especially blackens his reputation as a
minister of the holy sacrament -- so addicted to the vanity of the chase as to
be designated by many by the infamous title of "Hundeprest," or the
dog-priest; and this occupation, during his lifetime, was either laughed at by
men, or considered in a worldly view; but after his death -- as the event
showed -- the guiltiness of it was brought to light: for, issuing from the
grave at night-time, he was prevented by the meritorious resistance of its holy
inmates from injuring or terrifying any one with in the monastery itself;
whereupon he wandered beyond the walls, and hovered chiefly, with loud groans
and horrible murmurs, round the bedchamber of his former mistress. She, after
this had frequently occurred, becoming exceedingly terrified, revealed her
fears or danger to one of the friars who visited her about the business of the
monastery; demanding with tears that prayers more earnest than usual should be
poured out to the Lord in her behalf as for one in agony. With whose anxiety
the friar -- for she appeared deserving of the best endeavours, on the part of
the holy convent of that place, by her frequent donations to it -- piously and
justly sympathized, and promised a speedy remedy through the mercy of the Most
High Provider for all.
Thereupon, returning to the
monastery, he obtained the companionship of another friar, of equally
determined spirit, and two powerful young men, with whom he intended with
constant vigilance to keep guard over the cemetery where that miserable priest
lay buried. These four, therefore, furnished with arms and animated with
courage, passed the night in that place, safe in the assistance which each
afforded to the other. Midnight had now passed by, and no monster appeared;
upon which it came to pass that three of the party, leaving him only who had
sought their company on the spot, departed into the nearest house, for the
purpose, as they averred, of warming themselves, for the night was cold. As
soon as this man was left alone in this place, the devil, imagining that he had
found the right moment for breaking his courage, incontinently roused up his
own chosen vessel, who appeared to have reposed longer than usual. Having
beheld this from afar, he grew stiff with terror by reason of his being alone;
but soon recovering his courage, and no place of refuge being at hand, he
valiantly withstood the onset of the fiend, who came rushing upon him with a
terrible noise, and he struck the axe which he wielded in his hand deep into
his body. On receiving this wound, the monster groaned aloud, and turning his
back, fled with a rapidity not at all interior to that with which he had
advanced, while the admirable man urged his flying foe from behind, and
compelled him to seek his own tomb again; which opening of its own accord, and
receiving its guest from the advance of the pursuer, immediately appeared to
close again with the same facility. In the meantime, they who, impatient of the
coldness of the night, had retreated to the fire ran up, though somewhat too
late, and, having heard what had happened, rendered needful assistance in
digging up and removing from the midst of the tomb the accursed corpse at the
earliest dawn. When they had divested it of the clay cast forth with it, they
found the huge wound it had received, and a great quantity of gore which had
flowed from it in the sepulchre; and so having carried it away beyond the walls
of the monastery and burnt it, they scattered the ashes to the winds. These
things I have explained in a simple narration, as I myself heard them recounted
by religious men.
Another event, also, not
unlike this, but more pernicious in its effects, happened at the castle which
is called Anantis, as I have heard from an aged monk who lived in honour and
authority in those parts, and who related this event as having occurred in his
own presence. A certain man of evil conduct flying, through fear of his enemies
or the law, out of the province of York, to the lord of the before-named
castle, took up his abode there, and having cast upon a service befitting his
humour, laboured hard to increase rather than correct his own evil
propensities. He married a wife, to his own ruin indeed, as it afterwards
appeared; for, hearing certain rumours respecting her, he was vexed with the
spirit of Jealousy. Anxious to ascertain the truth of these reports, he
pretended to be going on a journey from which he would not return for some
days; but coming back in the evening, he was privily introduced into his
bedroom by a maid-servant, who was in the secret, and lay hidden on a beam
overhanging, his wife's chamber, that he might prove with his own eyes if
anything were done to the dishonour of his marriage-bed. Thereupon beholding
his wife in the act of fornication with a young man of the neighbourhood, and in
his indignation forgetful of his purpose, he fell, and was dashed heavily to
the ground, near where they were lying.
The adulterer himself
leaped up and escaped; but the wife, cunningly dissembling the fact, busied
herself in gently raising her fallen husband from the earth. As soon as he had
partially recovered, he upbraided her with her adultery, and threatened
punishment; but she answering, "Explain yourself, my lord," said she;
"you are speaking unbecomingly which must be imputed not to you, but to
the sickness with which you are troubled." Being much shaken by the fall,
and his whole body stupefied, he was attacked with a disease, insomuch that the
man whom I have mentioned as having related these facts to me visiting him in
the pious discharge of his duties, admonished him to make confession of his
sins, and receive the Christian Eucharist in proper form: but as he was
occupied in thinking about what had happened to him, and what his wife had
said, put off the wholesome advice until the morrow -- that morrow which in
this world he was fated never to behold! -- for the next night, destitute of
Christian grace, and a prey to his well-earned misfortunes, he shared the deep
slumber of death. A Christian burial, indeed, he received, though unworthy of
it; but it did not much benefit him: for issuing, by the handiwork of Satan,
from his grave at night-time, and pursued by a pack of dogs with horrible
barkings, he wandered through the courts and around the houses while all men
made fast their doors, and did not dare to go abroad on any errand whatever
from the beginning of the night until the sunrise, for fear of meeting and
being beaten black and blue by this vagrant monster. But those precautions were
of no avail; for the atmosphere, poisoned by the vagaries of this foul carcass,
filled every house with disease and death by its pestiferous breath.
Already did the town, which
but a short time ago was populous, appear almost deserted; while those of its
inhabitants who had escaped destruction migrated to other parts of the country,
lest they too should die. The man from whose mouth I heard these things,
sorrowing over this desolation of his parish, applied himself to summon a
meeting of wise and religious men on that sacred day which is called Palm
Sunday, in order that they might impart healthful counsel in so great a
dilemma, and refresh the spirits of the miserable remnant of the people with
consolation, however imperfect. Having delivered a discourse to the
inhabitants, after the solemn ceremonies of the holy day had been properly
performed; he invited his clerical guests, together with the other persons of
honour who were present, to his table. While they were thus banqueting, two
young men (brothers), who had lost their father by this plague, mutually encouraging
one another, said, "This monster has already destroyed our father, and
will speedily destroy us also, unless we take steps to prevent it. Let us,
therefore, do some bold action which will at once ensure our own safety and
revenge our father's death. There is no one to hinder us; for in the priest's
house a feast is in progress, and the whole town is as silent as if deserted.
Let us dig up this baneful pest, and burn it with fire."
Thereupon snatching up a
spade of but indifferent sharpness of edge, and hastening to the cemetery, they
began to dig; and whilst they were thinking that they would have to dig to a
greater depth, they suddenly, before much of the earth had been removed, laid
bare the corpse, swollen to an enormous corpulence, with its countenance beyond
measure turgid and suffused with blood; while the napkin in which it had been
wrapped appeared nearly torn to pieces. The young men, however, spurred on by
wrath, feared not, and inflicted a wound upon the senseless carcass, out of
which incontinently flowed such a stream of blood that it might have been taken
for a leech filled with the blood of many persons. Then, dragging it beyond the
village, they speedily constructed a funeral pile; and upon one of them saying
that the pestilential body would not burn unless its heart were torn out, the
other laid open its side by repeated blows of the blunted spade, and, thrusting
in his hand, dragged out the accursed heart. This being torn piecemeal, and the
body now consigned to the flames, it was announced to the guests what was going
on, who, running thither, enabled themselves to testify henceforth to the
circumstances. When that infernal hell-hound had thus been destroyed, the
pestilence which was rife among the people ceased, as if the air, which had
been corrupted by the contagious motions of the dreadful corpse, were already
purified by the fire which had consumed it. These facts having been thus
expounded let us return to the regular thread of history.
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