12: TETTA WRITES TO ALCUIN *
October 27, Year of Our Lord 792
To Alcuin of York, venerable scholar, evangelist and ambassador of Rome to the barbarians:
Tetta, the unworthy and weak, sends to you, so-loyal friend, across stormy seas and foreign lands, her warmest affection.
Knowing, as I do so well, that "a friend is long to seek, hard to find, and difficult to keep," I acknowledge that reading the affirmations of your affection for me, as expressed in your thrillingly-eloquent last letter, has filled my very inmost soul with a sweetness as of honey.
Not to waste further words: not a day nor a night goes by without some remembrance of that long-ago summer in York with you, and with my departed brother, whom we both loved. And even though now we are so very distant and apart, my faithful Alcuin, yet you remain, as always, my tower of strength against enemies both without and within.
Believe me -- as a storm-tossed sailor longs for harbour, as an anxious mother watches by the shore for her son -- do I long for the sight of you. But I am so oppressed by the tyranny of my sins, and so weighted down by my countless faults, that hope of salvation from impending danger cannot be mine, and I am plunged again and again into vexation.
May I presume to ask Your Reverence's advice on a problem of great difficulty? I am struggling to find a fitting course of discipline for a very unusual Nun, who has caused me great perplexity. Let me tell you briefly of her background, and her continuing offence, so that you might offer your humble student a few words of advice, if you are willing to condescend.
Her name is Leoba, of the town of Melrose; of common birth, quite plain of face, and twenty-five years of age; to the eye, there is nothing indicating her strangeness. Leoba was unwillingly brought here after being caught in a shocking act of deception -- she had somehow managed to spend over two years living at the Iona monastery dressed as a Monk and pretending to be a man. I am informed that she assumed a false voice at all times; she scraped a razor across cheeks and chin every day, as if to remove beard; I blush to mention how this impostor went so far, in her unnatural scheme, as to carry around a leather device to enable her to pass water while standing.
Why did she join the Monks at Iona, rather than joining other girls and women at a Convent? She claims that her only motivation was the fact that, since the Synod of Whitby, Pilgrimage to foreign lands has been forbidden to English females. Despite that absolute injunction, backed by both ecclesiastical and royal authority, Leoba stubbornly wishes to see the Holy Land.
She was just two weeks away from setting sail for Jerusalem, on a ship full of duped Monks, when the deception was uncovered. An unmarried peasant-woman from a town near Iona became pregnant, and rumours spread that she had been seduced by one of the Monks. This peasant-woman was confronted by Iona's Abbott, brought to Iona, and the peasant-woman was told to identify which of the Monks had made her pregnant. The lying peasant-woman pointed at the disguised Leoba.
When Leoba was given the opportunity to respond to the allegation, she denied seducing the peasant-woman -- but refused, even then, to show that the accusation was physically impossible. Only when she was taken to the miserium, and the brown robe pulled away for punishment, was her true sex discovered, to general astonishment.
Although Leoba had joined the Benedictine Order under false pretences, she was held nevertheless to be bound by our Rule, and subject to monastic authority. So she was sent here -- locked in a cage suitable for transporting a wild animal -- with a short note from Bishop Higbold ordering me to "teach her how to become a proper Nun."
Easier to tell than to do! She is frequently defiant towards my authority, has tried twice already to escape the convent, and refuses to promise not to try to escape again.
There is another factor involved, which complicates my attempt to properly discipline this turbulent and difficult young woman: as a scholar, and as a visual artist, Leoba is greatly gifted by God. I am wary of the word "genius," but I am forced, reluctantly, to so describe Leoba. Her script-writing is not only highly accurate and beautiful, but also produced in very little time. Her work in the scriptorium is always a joy to behold: she blends the modern and the classic, the Roman and the Celtic, in ways that I had never before imagined -- but you can see for yourself; I have enclosed a copy of Bede's Ecclesiastical History that Leoba produced, on her own -- she made not only the golden script, but the goat-skin pages themselves, and the painted leather cover, and the decorations on the spine -- all wonderful, as you can see, though made by a rebellious and insolent Nun!
Her first escape attempt consisted of trying to run across the sand-bar connecting our island to the mainland; but her timing was poor, as the tide washed over the sand-bar before she had gone far, and she was forced to wade back to our island, where she was soon caught and brought back to the convent.
Did she beg forgiveness? Acknowledge that she had done wrong? No, this crazed girl just snarled that Lindisfarne was a jail and that I was her jailor!
As punishment for that escapade, and for her lack of humility and obedience, I invoked Chapter XXIV of our Rule, and debarred her from eating at the common table. When she continued to flout my authority by tone of voice and expression of face, my next chastisement was to forbid her from the chapel. The next day, she made her second attempt to escape, by taking a small boat and trying to row away; but she was seen, and the wind (with God's Will) blew her back to shore and us.
At that time, I ordered her punished as per Chapter XXV: "Let none of the other sisters stand near her or speak with her. Let her be always alone at her work, ignored by the entire community, and not be Blessed by anyone passing by; neither let Blessings be put upon the food that is given her."
Later, seeing that loneliness was causing Leoba sadness, I followed Chapter XXVII: "Like a prudent physician, the Abbess ought to use every opportunity to send discreet and trusted older Nuns to secretly approach and console the excommunicated sister, in an attempt to induce her to repent and humbly beg forgiveness of the Abbess." Leoba was secretly told that my arms and my heart are open for prodigal daughters, such as she. Like the Good Shepherd, who left the ninety-nine sheep on the mountains, to go back and seek and find the one that had gone astray, and He was pleased to lay it on His sacred shoulders and carry it back to the flock -- so, I, most-lowly Tetta, tried to bring this lost Nun home.
But her sneering and contempt continued, and it was clear that if I did not act firmly, discipline among the others could decline. My next step was the sanction described in Chapter XLIV: "Let her, at the time that the Word of God is celebrated in the chapel, lie stretched, face down, in silence, before the door of the chapel, to be stepped over by sisters entering and leaving the chapel."
Leoba has lain on the top of the stone steps to Cuthbert's chapel for many weeks now, four times a day. She is stepped over by each of the Nuns going in and out of the chapel -- occasionally, a clumsy Nun will kick Leoba -- but she is stubborn!
Leoba has snarled at me many times, in that insolent voice of hers, that ecclesiastical law does not allow me to punish Nuns with death or to confine her indefinitely. With mockery, she says, "Sooner or later, Abbess Tetta, you will have to let me go. I can survive anything until then. When you expel me, I will be free to make my Pilgrimage to the Holy Land, where the Virgin Mary has said I must go."
(Leoba claims -- falsely, no doubt -- to see visions and hear divine voices.)
I am well-aware of Chapter XXIIX of our Rule: "Of Those Who Have Often Been Corrected, But Do Not Amend." If necessary, I will follow that Rule with Leoba, but I am reluctant. Forced fasting, hair-shirts, rod-strikes to her shoulders -- O, Alcuin, I hesitate! If I thought that physical pain would make Leoba into a "proper Nun," I would inflict it with tears of joy, but I doubt such a result. Leoba is so stubborn and bitter that I know that such chastisement would fail to reform her character, and it would certainly increase her fanatic lust to leave England!
In your last wise letter, which I have often re-read by bed-side candle, you commended use of the rod in monastic discipline. Does the situation I have described change your opinion at all? Does it matter that the wrongdoer is highly unlikely to be reformed by physical pain? Does it matter that she came here not as a willing applicant, but as a caged transvestite? And, finally, does it change your opinion to know she is an artist with God-given gifts? I fear that a wrong step on my part could deter her from using her talents on behalf of religion!
I cannot decide what to do. I will continue her excommunication in its present form until I hear from you; hopefully, that will be a matter of weeks, not months. Please tell me what to do. I will follow your advice, as I respect and revere your opinion above those of all other men. Alcuin, be my tower of both wisdom and strength; I am sure that it will greatly help towards the salvation of my soul, if I follow your commands with my whole strength.
Know, O holy oblate, that I am not sending you these gifts in the hope of receiving any earthly gift in return, but rather that I am on bended knee begging from you what is far more necessary: namely, that in these days of ubiquitous and sudden dangers, with scandals and corruption lurking on all sides, you would help me with your prayers by offering holy Masses for the immortal soul of my brother, your dear friend, our Aethwald, who is now watching us with joy from Christ's right side.
Farewell, Alcuin, my brother in the spirit, my beloved with pure and sincere affection, and may you continue to be strong and useful for our Lord.
Tetta