I recently came across the curious story of Iuthwara, a noblewoman who lived in medieval times in Halstock near Sherborne (the image above is from a 15th-century Sherborne missal) . Her tale was recounted in Latin by the 14th-century writer John Capgrave.
Iuthwara dedicated herself to religious devotion, but one day, after feeling chest pains, she followed the advice of her stepmother to apply soft cheeses to her breasts. The stepmother then lied to her son Bana that Iuthwara was pregnant and that her undershirt was ‘wet with dripping milk’. When Bana checked and found Iuthwara’s damp undershirt, he drew his sword and decapitated her for her alleged immorality.
However, the innocent Iuthwara's body remained standing. To everyone’s astonishment (mirantibus cunctis) she picked up her severed head and walked steadily to the nearby church, becoming one of the "cephalophoric" saints (those who carry their own heads after death). Where she laid her head to rest, a holy spring burst forth from the ground; it became a site of pilgrimage, as its waters were believed to hold healing properties.
St. Iuthwara is celebrated annually at Halstock Church (below). We are told that Bana repented and became a monk. We are not told what happened to the stepmother.
NZ classicist James Kierstead prompted me to look up the tale (he also posted the images on X), suggesting that St Iuthwara merited a Latin ode. Using some of the words from Capgrave’s Latin prose account I have penned the following, slightly tongue in cheek (caput, head, might also refer to a fountainhead), in English and in Latin elegiac verse:
With head in hands Saint Iuthwara, while people marvelled all around,
Entered the church with steady step and laid it gently on the ground.
Right there God made a fountain spouting holy liquid in its stead:
Let anyone its waters draw who truly seeks to get ahead.
Sancta caput prendens cunctis mirantibus intrat
Iuthwara in templum, ponit et illud humi.
De terra fecit Deus hinc erumpere fontem:
qui gaudere velit de capite edat* aquam.
* corrected from ‘emat’, which has a short e. ‘ēdat’ = bring out, so might be used for ‘draw’ water.
A nice rendition, Armand. But 'emat aquam' gave me pause for thought, until I suspected a sly pun, sc. holy, mineral water for sale!