He came to England from his native Burgundy in c 631. He fixed
his episcopal see as the Bishop of Dunwich, then a thriving Suffolk seaport,
ruling his diocese for 17 years. He died in c648. His name survives in Felixstowe.
His legacy, according to the available 8th century sources, is nationwide and
eternal.
The Venerable Bede in his "Ecclesiastical History of
the English People" (c731) tells us how the evangelical exertions of Sigeberht,
King of East Anglia, converted in exile, "were nobly promoted by Bishop
Felix, who, coming to Honorius, the archbishop, from the parts of Bergundy,
where he had been born and ordained… was sent by him to preach the Word of life
to the aforesaid nation of the Angles "and delivered "all the
province of East Anglia from long-standing unrighteousness and
unhappiness." Praise indeed.
The only other documentary source - the Anglo-Saxon
Chronicle - sings from the same hymn sheet. A gentler, kinder civilisation blew
in from Christian Europe and the heathen English embraced it. Felix Culpa!
This felicitous 'golden age' - the century between Christian
conversion and the Viking invasions - is usually consigned to the mists of
romance. A time of wonders, saints'
miracles and folk tales.
Like the one about St Felix's triumphant entry to England. A tempest
forced him inland up the Babingley River, between Castle Rising and Wolferton
in West Norfolk. Such was its ferocity that he could not escape it unaided and
a colony of beavers came to his rescue: a 'miracle' celebrated on the Babingley
village sign which includes both Saint Felix and a beaver being handed a bishop's
mitre by the grateful saint! A reminder that beavers were native fauna until the 16C and, incidentally, evidence that this
faith-story is a very old one.
But we no longer have to abandon Felix's golden age to the 'non-history'
which Christian scholar C.S Lewis calls "one of those phantom periods for
which the historian searches in vain."
Because last month, at waterlogged Great
Ryburgh, those down-to-earth diggers stuck their shovel in. Trial trenches put in by archaeologist
Matt Champion ahead of landowner Gary Boyce's planning application for a lake and flood
defence system revealed 6 plank-lined Anglo-Saxon graves,
believed to be the oldest of their kind found in Britain, alongside 81 coffins
made from hollowed oak trunks.
Finding intact timber graves of this age
is almost miraculous, due to wood’s tendency to leave little more than a smudge
in the earth. “The combination of acidic sand and alkaline water created the
perfect conditions for the skeletons and wooden graves to survive,” explained
excavation leader James Fairclough.
Traces of a timber structure believed to
have been a church were also found. The fact the graves face East, with timber
posts but no grave goods, suggest the dead were Christians (not Roman or
prehistoric.) Historic England believes the exceptionally well-preserved graves (with their consequent clarity of details of Anglo-Saxon practices)
date from between the 7th and 9th centuries and were "the final resting
place for a community of early Christians." The historic bishop St Felix would have been known to
such a community.
Research continues as to where the
bodies came from, how they were related and what their diet and health was
like.
Meanwhile, to get an early prediction of
what the archaeology might tell us about these converted Christian communities,
I contacted Gary Rossin, director of the Historical and Archeological research
project in Sedgeford. The Sedgeford dig has documented 300 Saxon Christian burials
over 20 years but, intriguingly, only 10
were in coffins - most were shroud or crouch burials. Coffins normally indicate
status. 81 coffins is a lot of status.
Mr Rossin added that Christian
conversion will often be archaeologically indicated by changes to a more
ascetic diet - fish, eggs and milk often preferred to red meat - and the
promotion of metalwork and literacy (for the monks, indicated by styli). These
very rapid cultural changes following conversion were typically top-down, the
model being St Felix's partnership with the convert King Sigeberht. "He probably wouldn't have gone direct to the village
blacksmith," commented Mr Rossin.
Christianization would be evidenced in a
new template, a new standardized ordering of society, new layouts of buildings
and burials. While the new broom of Christianity didn't make a clean sweep of
the existing culture, it nudged and pushed everything in a Christian direction.
A society being led away - if not from a belief in the miraculous and
supernatural per se - then at least from
fetishistic beliefs and heathen practices towards a more rational and
enlightened spirituality. St Felix rocks up and
everything changes. Very quickly.
Felix really started something. We may
think of our round-towered Saxon churches (Norfolk has 124 of the 185 still
standing in England) as monuments of ancient Christianity but Felix was there earlier, building in wood
(the main material for church buildings in East Anglia for 400 years after him.)
And his missionaries chose sites that have remained 'holy' longer than even
stone can stand. Ecclesiastical
foundations and missionary stations were often established among Roman ruins, because
of the desire for the ideals of Roman culture ('romanitas') and to associate Christianity
with it. Early Christians also liked the way ruins marked off the religious
world from the everyday.
What St Felix brought to these islands certainly endures. The unusual church of Saint Andrew in Great Ryburgh, with its Saxon round tower and distinctive cruciform shape (and chancel re-ordered in 1912 to give a feeling of space and light) is testament to the ability of Christianity to re-invent its evangelizing spirit through time. It is fitting to see, on its famous Screen, on which Saints are depicted and named, St. Felix included, as 1st Bishop of East Anglia, 630.
Much else has altered, even East Anglian geography. St James' at Bawsey no longer occupies the 'otherworldy' location it did, flung out to sea on the raised Bawsey peninsula and marked off by a substantial ditch. It is now several miles inland.
The original
hub of St Felix's mission, Dunwich, once a Roman fort and the capital of a Saxon
Kingdom, denoted in Domesday Book as one of the largest ports on the east coast
with a thriving fishing industry and around 3,000 residents, is today a few cottages, a church, a pub, a small
visitor centre and the ruins of a friary, with a population of about
100.
Coastal
erosion, coupled with the growing spit of land, actually created by the 13C a
near perfect harbour, where ships from the Continent could be safe from gales.
Dunwich boomed. But by the 14C, the old port had to be abandoned. Over 400
houses were swept away in a single storm. In the 17C, the sea washed out the
high street and reached the market place.
St Felix's
holy foundations appear to have been stronger. The coasts of East Anglia may
crumble but his "Word of life to the aforesaid nation of the Angles"
has lasted not just to Domesday but
a thousand years beyond.
1 comment:
Fascinating! HAd no idea about the beaver on the Babingly village sign!
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