William de Turbeville - Life

Life

Turbeville was educated in the Benedictine cathedral-priory of Norwich. Here he also made religious profession, first as a teacher and later as prior. He first held the office of precentor of the diocese of Norwich from about 1136, and was subsequently Prior of Norwich.

Turbeville was present at the Easter synod of 1144 when Godwin Stuart told the improbable story that his nephew, William of Norwich, a boy of about twelve years, had been murdered by the Norwich Jews during the preceding Holy Week.

When Turbeville became bishop in 1146 or early 1147 he propagated the cult of the "boy-martyr". On four different occasions he had the boy's remains transferred to more honourable places, and in 1168 erected a chapel in his honor in Mousehold Wood, where the boy's body was said to have been found. He persuaded Thomas of Monmouth, a monk of Norwich priory, to write "The Life and Miracles of St. William of Norwich" about 1173, the only extant authority for the legend of William, which is now commonly discredited.

Turbeville attended the Council of Rheims in 1148.

Turbeville died on 16 January 1174 or 17 January 1174.

Read more about this topic:  William De Turbeville

Famous quotes containing the word life:

    “Who shall describe the inexpressable tenderness and immortal life of the grim forest, where Nature, though it be midwinter, is ever in her spring, where the moss-grown and decaying trees are not old, but seem to enjoy a perpetual youth.”
    —Henry David Thoreau (1817–1862)

    “The Troubles are a pigmentation in our lives here, a constant irritation that detracts from real life. But life has to do with something else as well, and it’s the other things which are the more permanent and real.”
    —Brian Friel (b. 1929)

    “Most vices ... demand considerable self-sacrifices. There is no greater mistake than to suppose that a vicious life is a life of uninterrupted pleasure. It is a life almost as wearisome and painful—if strenuously led—as Christian’s in The Pilgrim’s Progress.”
    —Aldous Huxley (1894–1963)