"Swete May, Soulis Leche":
The Winifred Carol of John Audelay
Melissa Jones
Ella Keats Whiting, editor of the first complete edition of the poems of John Audelay, admits that his work is distinguished more by its earnestness than by its originality.1 While this seems the faintest of praise, Whiting is quick to credit Audelay for his fondness for metrical experimentation, particularly in his use of the carol, of which he is the earliest named writer in English.2 The varied content of Audelay's carols illustrates the versatility of the genre and underscores R. L. Greene's pronouncement that "the carol [is] distinguished by its form rather than by its subject."3 Hagiography, on the other hand, is defined strictly by subject, but varies in its structure. The flexibility of its presentation is demonstrated by Audelay's poems, in which the lives and deeds of the saints frequently intersect with his favorite metrical form. Of the fourteen or so poems on saintly subjects found throughout Audelay's work, half are composed as carols. The most notable of these depicts the martyrdom and miracles of St Winifred.4 Her significance warrants three appearances in Audelay's manuscript: along with her carol, she is hailed in an extensive salutary poem, and is mentioned briefly in another carol which extols the virtue of chastity. Audelay's preference for Winifred was certainly in part due to what Michael Bennett describes as "local patriotism" for a saint whose shrine lay in a nearby district.5 However, the illuminating historical and personal factors which Bennett uncovers in his examination of Audelay's life and poetry may also explain Audelay's marked devotion to the saint.
The complete corpus of Audelay's verses is contained within a single manuscript,
Oxford, Bodleian Library, Douce 302 (SC 21876). Written primarily in a
fifteenth-century Shropshire dialect with interspersed Latin passages, the manuscript
contains three separate scribal hands: a first copied the total collection
of Audelay's poems; a second supplied corrections, notations, and other insertions;
and a third copied a Latin poem into the text. The presence of a single
main copyist, along with frequent self-references and other biographical evidence
revealed within the text, suggests that Audelay closely supervised the compilation
of the Volume.6 He could not have written
it himself, since the manuscript repeatedly claims that the poet was "[d]eeff,
siek, [and] blynd."7 Most likely it was written
at his dictation during the earlier half of the fifteenth century: a biographical
note in Latin at the end of no. 18 states that the poems to that point were
written by 1426. Those which follow were presumably written later.
Bennett asserts that Audelay did not simply compile Douce 302 as a random
assortment of religious verse, but intended the Volume as "an anthology of spiritual
counsel."8 Audelay's attention to the arrangement
of the poems is manifested in the self-contained collections which appear within
the manuscript. Nos. 23 through 27 comprise a conspicuously hagiographic
group. The first, a long poem which combines narrative and salutation,
honors St Bridget of Sweden and commemorates the founding of a convent in her
name at Sheen in 1415. Next comes the Winifred carol, followed by her
salutation; the last two poems of the group are salutations as well, directed
at Sts Anne and Veronica respectively. Audelay highlights the aspects
of each: Bridget was both "mayden and wyfe," Winifred is commended for
her purity, St Anne is most noted as the "moder of Mari," Veronica is remembered
for her compassion towards the suffering Christ. Each saint exemplifies
a different model of feminine virtue, and the poems collectively create a miniature
catalogue of Holy Women. Another self-contained unit within the manuscript
is the collection of twenty-five carols which are grouped together in the latter
part of the book, headed by a couplet which explicitly identifies their form
and purpose: "I pray 3/ow, syrus, boothe moore and las, / Syng †ese caroles
in Cristemas."9 The holiday is not necessarily
the focus of the carols which follow. No. 34 might be construed as relative
to the season, since its subject is Stephen the Protomartyr, whose feast day
is 26 December. The other saints' carols feature John (no. 35), Thomas
à Becket (no. 37), and Anne (no. 43). Winifred makes her third
appearance in no. 47 where, along with "Saynt Kateryn and Marget," she is honored
for having "louyd ful wel here maydhed." The final carol is dedicated
to St Francis of Assisi, creator of the vernacular Christian song, in whom the
carol-composing Audelay must have held particular esteem.
The Winifred carol is the only carol that does not appear within the set
of verses designated as carols in the manuscript, but it is a carol nevertheless,
and Audelay calls it so in its final stanza. Its structure is similar
to others in the manuscript: a quatrain terminating in a tail-rhyme that
cues the burden, "Winifred, †ou swete may, / Thow pray for vs bo†e ny3/t and
day."10 In the manuscript this appears as
the first two lines, written in red ink by the "corrector's" hand which, along
with the poem's placement outside of the carol section, probably led some readers
to believe that these lines were not the burden, but the title. "The burden
makes and marks the carol," informs Greene,11 who
regards the Winifred "a true carol," despite its thirty verses which, according
to J. Copley, renders it "not too suitable for musical performance," since it
contains "far too many stanzas."12 Greene
suggests that Audelay may have consciously intended the Winifred carol as a
literary narrative to be read, and not as a song to be sung to a melody, since
the final stanza commands that one should "[r]ed[e] this carol reuerently."13
Audelay's injunction supports a process which evolved steadily throughout
the age, in which formerly oral modes such as the carol and the saint's life
became more firmly entrenched as written genres. Evelyn Birge Vitz traces
the shift in medieval hagiography from the non-literate, vernacular practice
of storytelling or singing to the more formal method of composing written saints'
lives for personal devotions. Thus, explains Vitz, hagiography moved from
an entertaining and informal oral/aural mode, which called for reciting or some
other form of public performance, to a more consciously literary style with
an increasing concern for historical accuracy, produced for silent consumption
by a solitary reader.14 The same shift occurred
in the carol as it was increasingly included in manuscripts during the later
medieval era.15 The transference from the
informal oral arena to the formalized permanence of the written page assisted
in transforming the carol and the saint's legend from their popular pre-Christian
origins to a more literary Christian style. With its concluding insistence
upon being read rather than sung, Audelay's hagiographic carol lends a tandem
contribution to these paradigmatic shifts.
Audelay succeeds in incorporating several hagiographic modes within a
single carol. In classifying types of hagiography, scholars have minimized
differences between poetry and prose in favor of distinctions based upon the
actions of the saint; thus, a hagiographic narrative may be categorized as a
vita, passio, or miraculum, depending on whether the saint's contemplative life,
martyred death, or miracle-workings are emphasized within the text.16
These terms apply to verse as well as to prose legends and prove an appropriate
fit to Audelay's hagiographic narrative poems; the Stephen carol, for instance,
is a passio in verse. The Winifred carol recounts the full extent of her
legend: martyred for refusing to submit her chastity, she is marvelously
resurrected, becomes an abbess, and generously intervenes to provide miracles
through the water of her holy well. The carol therefore embodies elements
of all three types: passio, vita, and miraculum, which underscores her
importance to Audelay and bolsters her saintly prestige.
Winifred's martyrdom differs from most in that her death does not conclude
her story, but begins it. "Marter and mayd clene," Audelay calls her in
the first line of the carol, noting that, had she deferred to a prince's love,
she might have been a "lady of ryal aray."17
Audelay repeats the tale with the same condensed swiftness found in ballads.
Local familiarity with Winifred's legend permits Audelay to dispense with introductory
details found in the more expansive prose accounts: that she was a seventh-century
Welsh maiden who was moved to religious devotion by the preaching of her uncle,
St Beuno; that she was languishing ill at home on the Sunday morning on which
she was lustfully approached by Caradoc, the ardent son of a chieftain; and
that she escaped through the rear door of the house in hopes of reaching the
safety of her uncle's church. Instead, Audelay cuts straight to the scene
of the martyrdom, describing how Caradoc, who was "ful cursid and cruel, / And
dred not God ne no parel; / Smot of [her] hede" while the resistant maiden
knelt pleadingly. In Audelay's carol, the head rolls into a "dry valay,"
instead of into the doorway of Beuno's church as other versions tell; but the
saint nevertheless is cognizant of the beheading, for immediately in the next
verse, he sets the head upon the body "with gret pete." Winifred instantly
revives, with no apparent effects from the episode, save for a "†red of perle"
about her throat which, Audelay assures Winifred, "besemyd †e wel, so†le to
say." This is no mere flattery, for "Winifred" means "white thread," and
becomes the post-martyrdom name of the maiden previously known as Brewafour.
Audelay wraps up the brief passio portion of the carol with one more stanza
in which Caradoc for "†is cursid dede" is swallowed up by the earth, "†er-in
to be fore euer and ay."
Despite its drama, Audelay confines the story of Winifred's martyrdom
to less than a quarter-length of the poem. The brevity with which he treats
her beheading is in keeping with prose accounts of the legend, which efficiently
summarize the story as a prelude for the marvels which follow. These seem
to be Audelay's main concern also, as he devotes the largest part of his work
to describing Winifred's miraculum. As though over-eager to relate the
wonders worked in Winifred's name, he interrupts the narrative of her life to
explain that a well, "[s]eche on se neuer Cristyn mon," sprang from the spot
where her severed head hit the earth, in which her "blod was sparpild on euere
stone; / No water my3/t wasche hit away." As if this spontaneous spring
with its indelible bloodstains is not wondrous enough, it also provokes multiple
miracles, although the first few which Audelay relates fail to impress the modern
reader. In the first, a child borne away by the flow of the water escapes
harm from the dangerous mill-wheel located in the stream, and survives to "lo3/
and mad gomun and play."18 In the second,
a man drops a groat down Winifred's well and recovers it later, apparently in
a different well; the sketchiness of this incident suggests a more complete
story which a contemporary audience might know. Audelay provides a lengthier
account of the next "gret maruel," a series of incidents typical of hagiographic
miracula. Winifred's well suddenly and mysteriously ceases to flow when
a quantity of wine is stored in her chapel. The water begins to flow again
when the wine, which turns out to be poisoned, is cast into the street, and
a man taken ill by drinking it is divinely cured. The well provides additional
cures for the faithful who suffer various afflictions.
Further examples of miracles embellish the remainder of the carol, which
turns to depicting the rest of Winifred's vita. At the point where Audelay
again picks up the narrative, Winifred has apparently taken holy vows, and her
obvious virtue and grace inspire her election as abbess. Her uncle Beuno
takes leave of her in order to return to his abbey overseas. Before his
departure, he blesses Winifred and bids her to send him a token: "Ouer
†e se schal swem a stone / To bryng vestementis, †er ys noo nay." Eventually,
the floating stone ceases its miraculous dispatches and remains with Winifred,
indicating Beuno's death. Soon afterwards Winifred herself dies, and her
shrine is dedicated at Shrewsbury. She continues after her death to perform
miracles for "dyuers pepul in fer cuntre," and Audelay cites Shrewsbury as a
place of reverence and pilgrimage. He concludes his carol by appealing
to Winifred as the "soulis leche," and prays that she may assist all in escaping
sin so "†at †ai be neuer chamyd ne chent." Audelay reiterates much of
the same material in the salutation which follows the Winifred carol.
"Hayle! Wenefryd, †at worchipful with †i vergenete, / Hayl! meruelus marter
and merceful may," he commences, then proceeds to tell of Winifred's temporary
martyrdom, Beuno's swimming stone, and other such familiar items in similar
laudatory phrases.19 Whiting might pinpoint
such repetition as an example of Audelay's lack of originality, but it equally
proves the sincerity she perceives in his work. Audelay, consistently
fervid about matters of faith throughout his poetry, expresses an authentic
appreciation for Winifred's chastity and healing powers, and the double treatment
of her legend emphasizes the intensity of his devotion.
Audelay was hardly alone in his reverence for Winifred. Her enduring
status is noted in Butler's Lives, which states that she is "venerated outside
her own country more than any other of the numerous Welsh saints." Butler's
entry summarizes the perpetuation of the Winifred cult: her relics were
transferred to Shrewsbury in 1138, the observance of her feast was ordered by
Canterbury in 1398, and Holywell, the location of the miraculous spring, has
been venerated as a place of pilgrimage into the twentieth century. The
origin of her legend is somewhat harder to discern. Butler's Lives scolds
those who have "gone too far who assert that Saint Winifred never existed at
all," but most likely the story emanated from one of the numerous well-maiden
myths common to Celtic folklore.20
Written accounts of the Winifred legend form the basis for the Audelay
carol. The version commonly cited as Audelay's main source is a life of
St Winifred written in the twelfth century by Prior John of Shrewsbury in commemoration
of the transference of the saint's relics to that location.21
John of Shrewsbury's account also serves as the source for two other versions
of the Winifred legend: the sermon found in Mirk's Festial and the version
included in Caxton's Golden Legend. Both Mirk and Caxton tell the same
story of the virgin saint's refusal of Caradoc and her subsequent beheading;
both also tell of miracles that are associated with her. The earlier of
the two, Mirk's sermon, provides a thorough telling of Winifred's martyrdom,
describes the arrival of her relics at Shrewsbury, and enumerates various healing
miracles which took place in the wake of her death and in the translation of
her relics: among other wonders, she is credited with healing the "fallyng-euyl,"
sores, and speechlessness.22 Mirk's sermon
varies considerably from Caxton's 1484 text, which emphasizes the martyrdom
of the saint, her post-martyrdom life, and her relationship with Beuno.
Aside from the miraculous spring and her resuscitation, the only other marvel
associated with Winifred in the Caxton text is that of the silk chasuble, which
she conveys to Beuno by way of the well-stream, without the assistance of the
floating stone. The Mirk text lacks this episode. Mirk's Festial
is derived in part from the Golden Legend. Caxton published both works
within a year of each other, as well as a separate life of Winifred, also translated
from Prior Robert's account. The original thirteenth-century Legenda aurea
of Jacobus de Voragine bears no mention of Winifred. Caxton's inclusion
of her story in his Golden Legend may have been motivated by his involvement
with the Mirk text, or in the interest of nationalism: possibly he wished
to tailor his text to an English audience by including an account of a British
saint whose cult was widely observed. In her notes to the Winifred carol,
Whiting cites the passages describing the well and the floating chasuble as
proof of Audelay's familiarity with Caxton's source.23
While this parallel creates a structural resemblance between Caxton's version
and Audelay's, what might be termed a spiritual resemblance exists between Mirk's
and Audelay's texts, since both emphasize the miraculous. The lost groat
and the incidents caused by the poisoned wine are found only in Audelay's carol,
and Greene attributes them to local tradition.24
The episode of the child escaping the fatal mill-wheel is taken straight from
Prior Robert's account, as are the healing miracles, in which the "blynd and
crokid" and the "seke and sorouful" are cured by Winifred's well, and the "feters"
of presumably-innocent "prisonars" are "ibroke a-two."
These lines contain suggestive evidence which may explain Audelay's particular
interest in the power of St Winifred and her well. It has already been
noted that the Audelay manuscript reveals the limited senses and the frail health
of its author. Audelay's poems repeatedly insist that the Christian must
repent and turn from sin, a message from which Audelay did not spare himself.
If anything, Audelay's constant referrals to his own sinfulness and repentance
indicate that he understood the need for redemption all too well. His
early commentators, E. K. Chambers and F. Sidgwick, note that "his laments over
his past life seem to have more than mere convention behind them," and conjecture
that Audelay repents an earlier career as a Goliard.25
Michael Bennett posits that the "guilt-ridden" voice of John Audelay arose from
the poet's personal involvement in the 1417 incident in which Audelay's patron,
Lord Lestrange, attacked another knight during Easter Sunday services.
The assault resulted in the wounding of the knight and the death of a bystander.
As restitution for the crime, a series of such punishments as imprisonment,
fines, and public penance was imposed upon Lestrange and his retainers.
Audelay was present during the attack and, as chaplain, would feel particularly
responsible for the sins and the conduct of the family. Thus, according
to Bennett, the overwhelming preoccupation with the acknowledgment of and repentance
from sin which dominates the manuscript is Audelay's attempt to expiate himself
and the Lestrange household from the scandal of sacrilege.26
Bennett states that an awareness of the Lestrange scandal provides additional
insights into the poetry of John Audelay. By extension, these insights
can be directly applied to Audelay's carol of St Winifred. The Lestrange
Easter incident eerily resonates of the Winifred narrative, since her assault
took place on a Sunday morning near a church; her severed head was said to have
rolled into the doorway as the Mass was being recited, thus alerting the congregation
to the murderous event taking place outside. Audelay's regret in witnessing
the Lestrange assault may partly account for his fascination with Winifred,
who had the power to free criminals from their shackles. In addition,
his physical impairments may have spurred his interest in the saint whose marvelous
well was the site of so many miraculous healings. "Blynd Awdlay,"
as he frequently calls himself, would feel special devotion for a saint with
a reputation for curing sightlessness. Shrewsbury, the locus of her relics,
is located a short distance of only four miles from Haughmond Abbey, where Audelay
finished his last days, and Whiting speculates that the poet himself may have
made a pilgrimage to Holywell.27 It seems
reasonable to assume so, given Audelay's apparent belief in Winifred's validity.
Certainly his faith in her ability to perform miracles was powerful enough for
him to grant her the privilege of appearing in three poems in his singular manuscript.
"I hit mad with wepyng ye," Audelay proclaims in the conclusion of the Winifred
carol. The line sounds a poignant note for the blind poet and penitent
priest who may have personally felt the need for the healing of body and soul.
As the only virgin in Audelay's catalogue of Holy Women, Winifred is the "swete
may" whose resistance to sin made possible her own revival. In recounting
her legend, Audelay poetically reverses the sacrilegious slaughter committed
by Lestrange, and in commemorating her miraculous power, he prays that the virgin
of the "wonderful wel" might serve as his own "soulis leche."