An astonishing letter, found in 1936 by Raymonde Foreville in the Vatican Library’s manuscript lat. 1221, recounts an event that took place in Chartres Cathedral in 1177 or 1178.
Beyond the ‘demonstrative’ and ‘edifying’ aspect of the scenario – contributing by all means to the recent cult of St. Thomas of Canterbury – we perceive the atmosphere of an era: the forms of popular devotion, representations of blasphemy, the role of the bishop, the extreme importance attached to relics (notably the body of St. Lubin, or the veil of the Virgin).

“To the venerable father and lord Richard, by the grace of God Archbishop of Canterbury, Primate of England, and Legate of the Apostolic See; to my most dear brothers and friends in Christ, Prior Herlewin and Archdeacon Herbert; to the chapter and clergy of Canterbury: Jean de Salisbury, formerly clerk of the blessed martyr Thomas, by divine will and the merits of the blessed martyr, humble minister of the Church of Chartres, sends affectionate greetings in sincere devotion.

Several, moved by the devil, have striven in various regions to obscure, through malicious interpretation, the virtues and works of Saint Thomas as he fought to defend the law of God and the liberty of the Church. Today, God Himself reveals the noble character of the Archbishop, and his detractors are compelled, willingly or not, to proclaim his glory, inspire faith, and render just thanksgiving to Christ.

One of them, named Peter, the bearer of this letter, a native of our city and servant of the noble Count Thibaud, in a spirit of recklessness and under the sway of the demon of error and blasphemy, dared to attack the holy martyr in speech and mock his miracles as human fabrications.

One day, while he and other stonemasons working at the monastery of Saint Peter in Chartres were eating their meal, they began speaking of the miracles of the blessed Thomas. While all the others listened respectfully and with thanksgiving, he laughed, challenged, and vehemently contradicted them, claiming they were false and that the blessed Thomas had no power to perform miracles, great or small. Taking a piece of bread, he added, “If your Saint Thomas has any power, let him strangle me or make this food poison to me!” The others, terrified, rebuked his foolishness, beat their breasts, and made the sign of the cross to protect themselves from such blasphemy.

No sooner had this man left them than, upon reaching his house, he fell mute, his face changed, and his mind became disordered. Friends and neighbors rushed to his aid. Hearing what had happened, they wept and carried him, dazed and half-dead, to the church of Our Lady, where they placed him on the tomb of Saint Leobin, which rests in our cathedral.

News of the miracle spread quickly and soon filled the densely populated city. People flocked from everywhere to see the miserable man, struck by the hand of Saint Thomas. From the third hour until evening, the vast cathedral of Chartres was filled. I was absent at the time but returned to the city that same day. As soon as I arrived at my house, the unfortunate man’s mother and his friends came to me, fell at my feet, recounted what had happened, and tearfully sought my help and counsel. The mute man was brought to me, beating his chest and lifting his eyes and hands to heaven and toward the shrine containing the garment worn by the Blessed Virgin when she bore the Savior.

Everyone present wept, and neither I nor those with me could hold back our tears. I asked that the vial in which I had collected the blood of the blessed Thomas, which I had brought with me to Chartres, be fetched, along with water to wash it. After a prayer before the relics, I gave the vial to the wretched man to kiss. Immediately, he cried out in a loud voice so that everyone could hear, “Saint Thomas! Saint Thomas, have mercy on me!” Having drunk the water in which I had washed the vial and the martyr’s dagger, he instantly regained his health and vowed to make a pilgrimage to the saint’s tomb to atone for his blasphemy and give thanks for his healing.

All of us present offered thanks to God, praising the power of the glorious martyr, in whom we saw the fulfillment of the prophet’s words: “Your detractors will come to you, bow down at your feet, and acknowledge your greatness.” The clergy and the people rejoiced. Those who were sorrowful exulted. Tears turned to joy, and lamentations to hymns.

We wished to share this account with you for the glory of Him who is worthy of admiration and praise in the blessed martyr Thomas and all the saints. Greetings to you all in the Lord. Remember us and our church before God and the glorious martyr through whom your Church and city have been made renowned throughout the earth.”

 

Context: Saint Thomas Becket was assassinated on the orders of the King of England in his cathedral on December 29, 1170, for opposing the sovereign’s encroachments on the privileges of the Church.
Jean de Salisbury, who was Becket’s private secretary and an eyewitness to the murder, continued to work for the memory of the prelate-first in England, and later in France after being elected Bishop of Chartres on June 22, 1176.

It was likely Jean de Salisbury himself who collected Thomas’s blood before the funeral. The Cartulary of Notre Dame, in its entry for October 25, 1180, specifies that he enriched the cathedral with “two precious vessels, one of which contains the blood of the glorious martyr Thomas, Archbishop of Canterbury, which is still liquid, we certify this for having seen it ourselves.” In a poem recounting the miracles of Notre Dame (13th century), both the blood and a dagger allegedly used by one of the murderers are mentioned: “and Saint Thomas of Canterbury, whose blood was partly there and his dagger of villainy.”

The letter was written between Ascension 1177 and August 6, 1179 (the dates when Herlewin, mentioned in the address, became prior of Christchurch and resigned his office).