By Thomas Bainbridge
History is replete with great figures who, without the exertions of an ardent biographer, have been doomed to obscurity.
Godric of Finchale would have been one of those, had not Reginald of Durham recorded the peculiar tale of:
“The happy hermit Godric, who in your times shone with the glory of many signs, flourished with a prophetic spirit, and by exchanging contempt for visible heavenly things he merited to obtain.”
Trading Empire
Born in Walpole, Norfolk, in 1070, Godric, meaning ‘God’s king’ in Old English, left his parent’s farmstead seeking wealth and adventure. He followed an entrepreneurial path, trading in English market towns. His wealth grew and soon Godric owned a small fleet of merchant vessels which travelled throughout Europe: Rome, Dacia (modern day Romania), as far up the Danube as Linz, as well as Constantinople — wherever goods could be bought and sold for the most handsome price.
It was said that one Godric’s frigates bore the crusader King, Baldwin I of Jerusalem, to the port of Jaffa in 1102. More than once he met with vicious storms that threatened to sink his ships, or pirates as they neared the North African coast. But through each of these perils he believed he was delivered by God’s mercy. And yet Godric himself also partook in piracy, perhaps at the behest of Crusaders with a ready appetite for violence.
Homecoming
Godric was immensely well-travelled for the age and through trading he had gained a huge amount of wealth, much of which was seized from galleys in the Mediterranean. As a rich and worldly man, he returned to England with the aim of travelling on to Scotland by way of Lindisfarne. There at Holy Island, Godric beheld the reverence for Saint Cuthbert held by the monks, and their tales of his life and deeds left a deep impression.
Soon, the stirrings of his heart produced a great change. To atone for his life of piracy and dishonest dealings, Godric sought a life of solitude and hardship. In 1110, Flambard, Bishop of Durham, granted him land to the north of the city, at another bend in the Wear, called Finchale — said to have been the seat of the ancient British King, Finck, hence the pronunciation of the site as ‘finkle’.
Ascetic Life
Like a mountain man of the American West, Godric lived here in total seclusion, subsisting by his own toil. He constructed a rough-shod hut, little more than a hovel with a dirt roof, where he slept and ate, but otherwise occupied his time in prayer. He avoided most company but was still prepared to share his hearth.
In the wilderness, animals flocked to Godric and were tamed by his gentleness. He bade asps to come into his hut to warm themselves by the fire, but upon a sharp command could make them leave just as easily. Such was his abhorrence at harming animals that, probably to the annoyance of his companions, he would release any prey they might have caught while hunting. As Reginald of Durham writes, “If anyone serving his ministry should catch any bird or beast with a hawk or a snare, he would soon as he became aware of it, snatch it from their hands, and let it go free into the fields or forests.”
For some time, Godric underwent extreme privation, surviving only on roots, berries and leaves, often fasting for days on end. Akin to an early vegan, he scorned all forms of food that were produced by animals ‘subject to death’, which included meat, eggs, cheese and milk. Even the austere monks dubbed Godric’s diet fanatical.
His clothing too was sparse. Godric wore a hair shirt, and a chainmail shirt on top of of that, which weighed him down. Godric sought to further punish himself: at night, he would stand up to his neck in the freezing waters of the Wear, reciting prayers to test himself against the brutalities of nature.
Apparitions
Godric’s emaciated existence began to induce drug-like hallucinations with ecstatic visions of Cuthbert, Mary and John the Baptist. Godric communicated with them as though they were close friends. His biographer Reginald also recounted the evil that Godric encountered. In the wilderness, the Devil assailed him, tempting and torturing the lonely man with comfort and then wrath, causing him to remain awake for many days and nights.
He was also tormented by local peasants, who, perhaps with reason, took him for a rambling madman. They grazed their cattle where he had planted crops and mocked his peculiar ways. Despite this, Godric miraculously received a bountiful harvest and gave away his produce to those that had spurned him, winning them over to his holiness.
Pilgrims
Though he would not leave his place of dwelling by the banks of the Wear, he was sought out and greeted by some of the foremost men of the time. The Archbishop of Canterbury, Thomas Becket, famously killed on the King’s mistaken orders, had secretly contacted Godric through the Bishop of Durham, soliciting his goodwill.
The hermit also constructed the beginnings of a site of veneration at Finchale, including a chapel for Saint Mary. Still, it is possible to perceive his strained relationship with the local clergy: they perhaps feared that Godric was encroaching upon their monopoly of piety and so tried to ingratiate themselves with him, though secretly waiting upon his demise.
It must have been annoying then, thanks to his robust body, seemingly strengthened by his years in the wilderness, that he outlived more than a few Bishops of Durham. Godric lived to one-hundred, dying on 21st May 1170. He was buried on the banks of the river where he had spent sixty years of his life.
It did not take long before the Church took advantage of Godric’s memory. They took over Finchale, where Godric’s bones became a profitable possession thanks to the many pilgrimages to view his tomb. The place would eventually blossom into Finchale Priory, which would stand for over four hundred years until its dissolution under Henry VIII.
Though Godric has not been officially canonised as a saint, there does not seem much reason to deny him the epithet. Regardless, he lived a fascinating life.
