Medieval Ghost Stories

by Andrew Joynes

  My niece concluded that she would be able to say much more about these kind of occurrences if she were not afflicted by illness. ‘Just as the day is given over to the living,’ she said, ‘the night is the domain of the dead.’

  The Groaning Ghosts

  Book I, Chap. VII

  It is not right and proper to dwell too much upon the affairs of the dead, but rather, as St Paul reminds us [Romans XII, 3], to think soberly upon such matters. On the other hand, because the testimony of two or three witnesses is worth recording, I have written down accounts of events which have happened recently, in order that the unbelieving might know that the words of the prophets are true: ‘Thy dead shall live, O Lord’ [Isaiah XXVI, 19], and also ‘The dead arise, who are in their tombs; they will hear the voice of the Son of God, and abundantly’ [John V, 28].

  It is noteworthy that, whenever such events occur and are witnessed by the living, they signify that something momentous is abouttohappen… Forinstance, I was myself in my courtyard at Retmerslevo one December when, as the cock crowed, a great light came from the church, filling the whole of the atrium, and an immense sound – a kind of groaning – was heard. My brother Frithericus witnessed this with his attendants and others who were gathered there, and a chaplain sleeping nearby heard the sounds. When I asked the next day whether similar phenomena had occurred in the past, I learnt from some old men that they had; and, sad to say, shortly afterwards there was a fulfilment of these events with the death of my niece and kinswoman, the blessed lady Liutgarde. Because they touched my own family and circle, I will tell more about these occurrences. It often happened that during the night I heard the sound of timbers being cut down, and on one occasion I and a companion became aware, as others slept, of the dead speaking to one another. By these signs I would learn of the imminence of yet another death.

  All of this provides a sharp and noteworthy lesson for the unlettered and the Slavs, who believe in their ignorance that everything finishes at the point of mortal death. On the contrary, for the faithful these kinds of events are a firm reminder of life after death and future reward for good deeds …

  Source: Re-told from the Latin Thietmari Merseburgensis Episcopi Chronicon, Book I, Chap.VII; Patrologiae Cursus Completus, Series Latina, ed. J.-P. Migne, CXXXIX, cols. 1190–2.

  The ‘Five Books of Histories’ of Rodulfus Glaber

  Like Thietmar of Merseburg, the monk Rodulfus Glaber (c.985–c.1047) was strongly influenced, in the writing of his Historiarum Libri Quinque, by cultural aftershocks from the year 1000. He began this chronicle account of the history of France and Burgundy in 1028 and continued to work on it during sojourns at various monasteries, including five years spent at the great Benedictine abbey of Cluny. Although the subject matter of much of his work pre-dated the Millennium, Rodulfus evoked, in his references to such events as the invasions of Northern Europe by the Saracens in the eighth century, a sense of the apocalyptic disturbances which the generation who lived through the transition from the tenth to eleventh centuries expected to accompany, and stem from, the Millennium itself. Thus, in the first of the stories which follow, the monk Wulferius is surrounded by a collective apparition of the spirits of Christian knights who had died in combat with the Saracens. In the story I have called ‘An Army of Wraiths’, the vision of the priest Frotterius of a ghostly army moving across the landscape refers to an event which, at the time of the vision, was still to come: the account of the vision is followed in Rodulfus’s text by a reference to the invasion of Burgundy by the French king Henry I in 1015. The portentous nature of these apparitions is underlined by the deaths soon afterwards of those to whom the ghosts appear. The other story, Rodulfus’s account of a visit to his bedside by the Devil himself, described one of three occasions when Rodolfus claims to have witnessed a demonic occurrence.

  Wulferius and the Ghostly Martyrs

  Book II, Chap. IX

  The monk Wulferius lived at this time in the monastery which is called Reomagensse in the region of Tarnoderensse [Réome in the county of Tonnerre]. He was a sweet-natured man, gentle in all his dealings, and a vision appeared to him one Sunday which is certainly worthy of belief. He happened to stay behind after matins to pray in the church, leaving the other brothers to return to take their rest. All of a sudden the entire church was filled with figures wearing white robes and purple stoles. As Wulferius watched, he was particularly struck by their stern bearing and demeanour. At their head was a figure carrying a cross in his hands, who announced himself as the bishop of many lands, who went on to say that it was fitting that he should celebrate mass that day in the monastery. With the others, he maintained that they had been among the monks that night as they celebrated matins, and that the service of lauds to which they had listened had been particularly fitting for that day. It was the Sunday in the octave of Pentecost, on which, in fulfilment of the joy of Our Lord’s Resurrection and Ascension, and of the approach of the Holy Spirit, it is usual in many lands to chant responses made up of beautiful words and sweet harmonies, as fitting for the celebration of the Holy Trinity as anything of human origin can be. The bishop who presided began to celebrate mass on the altar of the martyr St Maurice, solemnly chanting the Trinity antiphon.

  When Wulferius asked the figures who they were, and why they were there, they cheerfully replied to him: ‘We are all professing Christians, but as we defended our homeland against the Saracens, we were separated by the sword from our mortal flesh. A divine dispensation has been made to take us into the company of the blessed, and as it happens we were due to pass through this region because many from this region are shortly to join our company.’ When the bishop celebrating mass had finished saying the Lord’s Prayer, and had pronounced the blessing, he sent one of his companions to bestow the kiss of peace upon Wulferius. When he had done this, the companion gave a sign to Wulferius that he should follow him, but when he attempted to do so, they suddenly disappeared. In this way, Wulferius understood that he would soon depart from this life. And this is indeed what happened shortly afterwards …

  A Demonic Visitor

  Book V, Chap. I

  While I was staying at the monastery of St Léger at Champceaux, just before matins one night a shrivelled little man of frightening appearance approached me from the far end of my bed. As far as I could tell, he was of medium size with a thin neck, a gaunt visage, eyes of the deepest black, with the upper part of his face furrowed and lined. His nose was pinched, his mouth was broad and his lips were slack. His beard was like that of a goat, spreading over a sharp chin, and his ears were hairy and pointed. His hair stood on end in a confused mass, and his teeth resembled those of a dog. He had a narrow head, an inflated chest, his back was hunched over and his thighs were quivering. He was dressed in filthy clothes, and his whole frame shook. Leaning forward, he grasped the bedhead and struck it sharply, saying: ‘You will not stay in this place any longer.’ I started awake in terror, and the apparition I have described remained with me, which often happens when we wake up suddenly. Grinding his teeth, he said again and again: ‘You will not stay in this place any longer.’ I jumped out of my bed and ran towards the monastery, prostrating myself in front of the altar of the blessed father Benedict. There I lay for a long while in great terror, attempting to recollect the grave sins which I had heedlessly committed since the days of my childhood; I was particularly concerned because I had rarely done penance out of love and fear for God’s divinity. As I lay there, miserable and bewildered, I repeated to myself: ‘O Lord Jesus, who came to save sinners, have pity upon me in your great mercy’ …

  An Army of Wraiths

  Book V, Chap. I

  It is worth recalling with particular attention that every time such prodigious occurrences manifest themselves before living men, whether through the agency of good or evil spirits, it turns out that those men do not remain alive much longer. We can give many examples bearing out what I have said, and from these I have decided to set down a few, so that when su
ch things happen, men can be aware of the dangers of being deceived. For instance, at the time when Bruno was bishop of Langres, a pious priest called Frotterius was living at Tonnerre. One Sunday evening, he walked across to his window before dinner to pass the time, and looking out, he saw an enormous multitude of riders drawn up as though in a battle-line, moving steadily from north to west. After he had watched them closely for some time, he became alarmed and called out to a member of his household to come and see them, but as soon as he had called out, the figures dissolved and disappeared. He was so shaken by the sight that he was hardly able to keep from tears. Later that same year he fell ill and died, ending his life in the same godly manner that he had lived. He was taken away by the portent which he saw, and this has been attested by witnesses …

  Source: Re-told from the Latin Rodulfi Glabri Historiarum Libri Quinque, in Patrologiae Cursus Completus, Series Latina, ed. J.-P. Migne, CXLII, cols. 640–1, 686–8. An edition of the Five Books of Histories, ed. and trans. J. France, was published by the Oxford University Press in 1989.

  The ‘Book of Visions’ of Otloh of St Emmeram

  Otloh of St Emmeram (c.1010–c.1070) was a monk of aristocratic background who spent much of his life at German monasteries which were at the forefront of the eleventh-century movement for monastic reform. It was a movement which advocated renewed spiritual discipline on the part of those who had taken the vows of monks, as well as the freedom of the monastic community itself from secular interference with its institutional lands and economic possessions. Otloh’s Liber Visionum was written during the last five years of his life, with the aim of providing edifying accounts of the divine supervision of mortal existence, often by means of the intervention of spirits of the deceased in the affairs of the living. In the story which follows, many of the preoccupations of a monk of Otloh’s reforming generation are to be found. The father’s ghost announces it is having to expiate the sin of plundering the estates of a monastic institution; as a result of their dead father’s appearance to the two brothers, future benefit accrues both to them and to the monastery; while the story itself has, in Otloh’s eyes, the merit of having been told originally by the reforming pope Leo IX (1048–54). The story is noteworthy also for the incidental details it contains of the father’s torments. The armour which he wore in life, and the spear which he brandished, were knightly appurtenances of power which enabled him to act unjustly; now, after death, these martial possessions became a source of particular torment to him.

  The Burning Spear

  Vision VII

  Let me tell of another vision, which was related to me recently by one of the brothers, who said he heard it told by the holy Pope Leo. At the time of the pope’s visit to Germany, he wished to preach a sermon relating to the plundering of monasteries through unjustified depredation and seizures of land. He went on to tell this story, saying: ‘In order that you might recognise how great a peril hangs over those who seize monastic property, let me tell you a certain memorable story.’

  Two brothers were journeying on horseback when they suddenly saw a great crowd of figures moving through the air not far above the earth. Finding this both marvellous and terrifying, they made the sign of the cross to themselves and, in the name of the Lord, asked the figures who they were. One of the figures, who was dressed in the garb of a knight, strode swiftly across to them and said: ‘I am your father, and I beseech you to return to the monastery those landed estates which you know me to have unjustly alienated from the community. Do this for the love of God, and for my own liberation. For if you do not return the land, neither I nor you nor any of our posterity retaining this land will escape perpetual hell-fire.’

  His sons replied: ‘Father, how can we give up these possessions? You did not request this while you were alive, nor can we give the land back without impoverishing ourselves. In any case, you do not seem to be in any need, judging by the ornateness of your armour and clothing.’ Sorrowfully, their father retorted: ‘What is this quality of garment that I have been accustomed to wear? I must tell you that wherever my armour touches my flesh I burn with intolerable fire. I feel that everything that surrounds me, whether I perceive it through sight or hearing or touch, is consuming me. So that you might understand this properly, take hold of the spear which I am carrying.’ One of the sons, wishing to verify what they had heard, eagerly grasped the spear held out by his father. He immediately dropped it because of its tremendous heat. His father reached out to catch the spear as it fell and said: ‘You should know that if this spear had touched the earth, you would have made my torment even greater.’ And with the final words, ‘I beg you, my sons, fulfil your father’s wishes,’ the image of the knight disappeared without trace.

  Prompted by divine instinct, the brothers began to discuss what they had heard. ‘If we retain the estate which was unjustly seized by our father, we will undoubtedly perish. For what does it profit us, if we gain the whole world at the expense of our souls? [Matthew XVI, 26]. Let us return the land to the monastery from which it was taken. In this way we will both benefit our heirs and win the indulgence of grace for our father and ourselves.’ And as soon as they had reached this conclusion, the image of their father returned to stand before them, but in a different garb from that which he had worn earlier. ‘My thanks to you for this. You have lessened my burden of obligation by pledging to return these possessions. Now, by the grace of God, I am released from torment and can go to take my rest.’ Whereupon he disappeared once more, leaving the brothers to implement their promise the more willingly because they had heard of their father’s swift release from torment.

  Pope Leo testified that he had himself met the brothers, who had by then become monks themselves, and listened to their story. I have hastened to set it down for the edification of my readers …

  Source: Re-told from the Latin Liber Visionum Othloni Monachi Emmerami, in Patrologiae Cursus Completus, Series Latina, ed. J.-P. Migne, CXLVI, col. 360.

  The Chronicles of Marmoutier

  During the eleventh century, an anonymous collection of miraculous stories, a number of which feature apparitions of the dead, was compiled at the Benedictine abbey of Marmoutier, near Tours. It is likely that the stories were intended to be used in an exemplary manner within the monastery itself, to foster the communal sense of institutional ancestry necessary for monastic harmony, and to emphasise the duties of fair treatment and brotherhood owed by individual monks to each other. The historical continuity of the monastic community, of which individual monks would have been encouraged to be continually aware, is apparent in the following story. The ghost of the dead priest Herveus makes an appearance not so much in a cautionary guise, to encourage a living colleague to change his manner of life, but to guarantee a debt arrangement and ensure that the repayment which he and the colleague agreed upon when they were both alive is honoured for the benefit of the Marmoutier community.

  Herveus and his Debtor

  Tale VIII

  Acertain priest called Herveus, who came from a noble family, was greatly disposed to a worldly and voluptuous way of life. His wealth, which derived from interest-bearing loans, was constantly increasing. Nevertheless, he gradually came to realise that the only hope for his future health and salvation was to deal honourably with religious men, and in particular with the monks of Marmoutier. Finally, advanced in years but still physically sound, he gave himself and all his possessions over to them, although even then he was not entirely able to free himself of the chains of the secular world.

  At long last the greedy hand of death, which batters equally upon the cottages of paupers and the towers of kings [Odes of Horace I, 4, 13] reached out towards him. Sensing that the hour of his death was near, he hurriedly called the brothers of Marmoutier to him. Humbly confessing his sins, and with many bitter tears, he divided his possessions in an appropriate fashion between the brothers and the poor, making over the bulk of his moveable wealth and real estate to the monastery. He also made clear to all his
debtors that, however much they owed to him, they thenceforth owed to the monks, and he set out a specified time for the repayment of these loans.

  Now among those who came to his bedside was his godfather and companion, to whom he had lent sixty pounds in an agreement known only to themselves. Sorrowfully, this companion said: ‘Lord, I am concerned by all this talk of wealth, and do not want anyone to know of the secret agreement we came to. I want you to know, by my faith and my sworn oath, that I am fully prepared to repay all that you loaned to me.’ The sick man replied: ‘It is not necessary for you to swear to me. I have every confidence in your good faith in this matter. Let us now confirm our agreement with the sweet kiss of peace.’ So the man faithfully promised, under the sign of holy orders, that the debt would be discharged at the end of a year, with the priest making clear to the debtor that the repayment should be to the brothers of Marmoutier. Whereupon Herveus was dressed in the holy vestments of his faith and transferred to the monastery, and there, sustained by the sacraments, he ended his sinful and worldly life in peace.