The texts in this edition are all related to the sudden death of Simon de Montfort earl of Leicester, which occurred on 4 August 1265 at the battle of Evesham in Worcestershire. As a revolutionary politician and soldier he had been so popular and successful in England that during his lifetime some had begun to portray him as a Christ-like saviour. The shock of his death, magnified by horror at the royalist mutilation of his corpse, launched a miracle cult so vigorous that it soon spread to parts of the British Isles that were well beyond his burial place at Evesham abbey. In defiance of royalist threats the cult lasted some fifteen years, during which Earl Simon's devotees compiled a miracle book and composed laments, prayers and hymns.

The miracle book

The monks of Evesham welcomed pilgrims at Simon de Montfort's grave and recorded every miracle story that came to them. Some miracles had been generated locally but reports of many more were received from other parts of the country. It seems that they usually came by word of mouth; in only two instances is there some indication that a report was delivered in writing (127, 190). When a story was given orally, the monks’ first task was to write a summary, not necessarily in complete sentences, of what may have been a long-winded or unstructured tale. At Evesham the note needed to record the identity (not necessarily the name) of the miracle's recipient and that of the informant (if it was someone else); where the recipient lived (unless they were a prominent person whose residence was well known); the nature of the miracle; and who else could vouch for the story. When the informant referred to a minor place outside Worcestershire and beyond the adjoining counties nearest to Evesham (Gloucestershire and Warwickshire) they were asked for its county or its nearest well-known town. Those details were enough to make the story credible and verifiable. There are only two references to testimony on oath (127–8) and none was needed, for there was no prospect of the formal canonization proceedings that would have called for sworn statements. The recording monk could choose to include more details than those described, but he often settled for the minimum. In particular, the date of a miracle was not of the essence and was not routinely taken down.

This chapter takes an in-depth look at the corpus of manuscripts that contain onomantic devices and were produced between the years 1150 and 1500 in Britain. It will analyse the ‘footsteps in the sand’ left behind in these manuscripts in the form of textual variations, attributions and signs of use, to build a fuller picture of onomancy in the later Middle Ages. The corpus of sixty-five manuscripts containing at least one whole or partial onomantic device produced in late medieval Britain includes two manuscripts which once contained onomancies but no longer do, as evidenced by their contents lists, and a missing manuscript containing a ‘Sphere’ whose contents are listed in the library catalogue of the Austin Friars at York (now Dublin, Trinity College Library, MS 359, fols. 5r–48v), produced in 1382. Several of the manuscripts contain multiple onomancies, which means that the total number of devices is more than the total number of manuscripts. However, not all of the devices are complete: some are devoid of diagrams, others of texts, and some are unfinished.

The manuscripts in which onomantic devices are located vary widely, from larger reference works to smaller books intended for everyday use; from books containing works of natural philosophy, astrology and medicine to the commonplace books of householders containing practical medicine; and to the manuscripts of university scholars, compendia of monks and the luxury books of the aristocracy and gentry. More than half of this corpus, thirty-seven manuscripts, can be confidently assigned to the fifteenth century. In contrast, just seven were written in the thirteenth century, and three in the later twelfth century. Does this mean, then, that onomancy became more popular as the Middle Ages came to a close? The simple answer is ‘possibly’, because there are a number of important factors to bear in mind here.

First, the number of onomancies that survive is in no way indicative of the original number that were produced: probably many more were copied. To estimate just how many more would, of course, be impossible.

[fol. 84v]

Symonis comitis ac sociorum martirum 4o augustia antiphona

Versus. Letamin[i] in Domino.

Collecta. Deus pro cuius pace et ueritate gloriosus sanguis beati Symonis martiris effunditur concede propitius ut qui ipsius sociorumque eius beneficia implorant pace perfrui mereantur eterna. P[er] D[ominum nostrum Iesum Christum].

O decus militie (Cologne MS) (221)

Cologne, Historisches Archiv der Stadt Köln, Best. 7010 (Wallraf) 28, fol. 84v

Antiphon of Earl Simon and his companions, martyrs, on 4 August O earl of Leicester, glory of the knighthood of the English people, right hand of the oppressed, knight of the king of glory, storehouse of decency, implore the life of the blessed for our miserable selves.

Versicle. Be glad in the Lord.

Collect. O God, for whose peace and truth was shed the glorious blood of the blessed martyr Simon, graciously grant that they who implore his help and that of his companions may be deemed worthy to enjoy everlasting peace. Through [our Lord Jesus Christ].

The relationship between Australia and Britain is a complex one. There are links between all areas of government and society in the two countries, of which the military, diplomatic and economic spheres have received the greatest attention. The relationship is perhaps more endlessly fascinating from an Australian perspective, as Britain was, and in many ways remains, the frame of reference from which Australia has developed its own national character. With the use of hindsight and a further evolved national perspective, Australian historians have in part characterised people and institutions by their differences from their British equivalent, as they sought to identify what was specifically Australian. Such interpretations are unsurprising and, in the main, do not diminish either the historians or their work, but they do leave some people and institutions with simplified, sometimes depreciatory characterisations which are not sustainable from the historical record. One institutional example is the Royal Australian Navy, which has often been described mainly in terms of its links to the Royal Navy and Britain. While deep and abiding links most certainly existed, the tensions and complexities of the relationship that existed are often not appreciated, nor is the context in which events took place; perhaps the result of the often discussed separation between military and other mainstream forms of history. A documentary source that does illustrate the tensions and complexities of the relationship (if not often the broader national context) is the correspondence between the professional heads of the Royal Australian and Royal Navies, the First Naval Member and the First Sea Lord.

First Naval Members and Chiefs of Naval Staff

The first Chief of Naval Staff after the Second World War was Admiral Sir Louis Hamilton, RN [1–12]. He was the last British officer loaned to the Australian Navy to be its professional head. Hamilton was well connected in both the RN and the Royal Family, serving twice in the Royal Yacht. He was a ‘salthorse’ (not sub-specialised into gunnery, communications or other warfare disciplines) who, from the end of the First World War to the middle of the Second, commanded four destroyers, three cruisers, the Home Fleet's destroyers and then the First Cruiser Squadron which was his last seagoing command. As Flag Officer, First Cruiser Squadron, Hamilton commanded the close cover for the convoy PQ17. Subsequently he was the Flag Officer Malta and Central Mediterranean Area.