Works (excl. History) 6

[ 1 ] Now there succeeded the man of the Lord Cuthbert in the exercise of the solitary life, which he had led on the island of Farne before the time of his bishopric, the venerable man Oidiluald, who for many years in the monastery which is called Ripon had himself consecrated by worthy deeds the office of the priesthood that he had received. That his merit, or what manner of life he had, may shine forth more surely, I relate one miracle of his, which one of the brethren—for whose sake and in whom it was accomplished—himself related to me, namely Guthfrid, the venerable servant and priest of Christ, who also afterward presided by the right of an abbot over the brethren of that same church of Lindisfarne, in which he was brought up.

'I came,' he said, 'with two other brethren to the island of Farne, desiring to speak with the most reverend father Oidiluald; and when, refreshed by his discourse and having sought his blessing, we were returning home, behold, suddenly, when we were placed in the midst of the sea, the calm by which we were borne was broken off, and so great and so fierce a storm of tempest rushed upon us, that we could make no headway either by sail or by oar, nor hope for anything other than death.

And when, long and much striving in vain against the wind and the sea, we at length looked back behind us, in case perhaps by some effort we might be able to regain that very island from which we had set out, we found ourselves shut in on every side by an equal tempest, and no hope of safety remaining to us in ourselves. But when we lifted our gaze farther off, we saw, on that very island of Farne, the father Oidiluald, most beloved of God, come forth from his hiding-places to behold our journey. For having heard the crash of the gales and of the raging ocean, he had gone out to see what was befalling us; and when he beheld us set in toil and despair, he bent his knees to the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, to pray for our life and safety.

And when he was completing his prayer, he at once stilled the swelling waters; so that, the fury of the tempest ceasing in every respect, favourable winds attended us all the way to land over the smooth surfaces of the sea. And when, escaping to land, we had also carried our little boat out from the waves, immediately that same tempest, which for our sake had been silent a little, returned, and did not cease to rage greatly all that day; so that it was given plainly to be understood that that brief respite of quiet which had come about had been granted from heaven, at the prayers of the man of God, for the sake of our escape. Now the same man of God remained on the island of Farne twelve years, and died there;

but he was buried on the island of Lindisfarne, beside the bodies of the aforesaid bishops, in the church of the blessed apostle Peter. Now these things were done in the times of King Aldfrith, who after his brother Ecgfrith ruled over the people of the Northumbrians for nineteen years. [ 2 ] At the beginning of his reign, Bishop Eata having died, John, a holy man, took up the prelacy of the church of Hexham; concerning whom those who knew him familiarly are wont to tell many miracles of his virtues, and most of all the most reverend and most truthful man Berhthun, once his deacon, but now abbot of the monastery which is called Inderawuda, that is, 'In the wood of the Deira'; of which we have thought it fitting to hand down some to memory.

There is a certain rather secluded retreat, surrounded by sparse woodland and a rampart, not far from the church of Hexham—that is, separated by a space of about a mile and a half, with the river Tyne flowing between—having an oratory of Saint Michael the Archangel, in which the man of God was wont, more frequently when opportunity of time smiled upon him, and most of all in Lent, to abide with a few, and quietly to give heed to prayers and reading. And when, on a certain occasion, at the beginning of Lent, he came there to abide, he ordered his men to seek out some poor person burdened with greater infirmity or want, whom they might have with them in those days for the doing of almsgiving; for so he was always wont to do.

Now there was in a village not far off a certain dumb youth, known to the bishop, for he had often before been wont to come before him for the sake of receiving alms, who could never utter even a single word; but he had so great a scabbiness and scurf on his head that no hairs at all could ever grow for him on the upper part of his head, but only round about, shaggy hairs seemed to stand. This one, therefore, the bishop ordered to be brought, and a little hut to be made for him within the enclosures of that same retreat, in which, remaining, he might receive a daily dole from them. And when one week of Lent had been completed, on the following Sunday he ordered the poor man to come in to him, and when he had entered, ordered him to put forth his tongue from his mouth and to show it to him;

and taking hold of him by the chin, he impressed the sign of the holy cross upon his tongue, and bade him draw it, thus signed, back into his mouth, and to speak: 'Say,' he said, 'some word; say gae,' which in the English tongue is the word of affirming and assenting, that is, 'yea.' He said at once, the bond of his tongue being loosed, what he had been bidden. The bishop added the names of the letters: 'Say A'; he said A. 'Say B'; he said this also. And when, the bishop saying them, he answered the several names of the letters, he added also syllables and words for him to say. And when in all things he answered accordingly, he commanded him to say longer sentences, and he did so;

nor did he cease thereafter, all that day and the night following, as much as he could keep awake—as they relate who were present—from speaking something, and from showing to others the secrets of his thought and will, which he had never been able to do before; in the likeness of that man long lame, who, healed by the apostles Peter and John, leaping up stood and walked; and entered with them into the temple, walking, and leaping, and praising the Lord; rejoicing indeed to use the office of his feet, of which he had been so long deprived. And the bishop, rejoicing together at his health, ordered the physician also to apply care for the healing of the scabbiness of his head.

He did as he had been commanded, and with the help of the bishop's blessing and prayers, fair hair grew together with sound skin, and he was made a young man of clear countenance and ready speech, with most beautifully curling hair, who before had been deformed, poor, and dumb. And so, rejoicing in the health he had received, though the bishop offered him a place to remain in his own household, he chose rather to return home. [3] The same Bercthun related another miracle of the aforesaid bishop:

For when the most reverend man Wilfrid, after a long exile, had been received back into the bishopric of the church of Hexham, and the same John, upon the death of Bosa, a man of great holiness and humility, had been appointed bishop of York in his stead, he himself came on a certain occasion to a convent of virgins at the place called Watton, over which the abbess Heriburg then presided. "When we had come there," he says, "and had been received with great joy by all, the abbess told us that one of the number of the virgins, who was her own daughter according to the flesh, was held by a most grievous sickness;

for she had lately been bled in the arm, and while she was at her studies she was seized with the affliction of a sudden pain, which soon increasing, that wounded arm was the more aggravated, and so swollen that it could scarcely be encircled with both hands, and she herself, lying in bed, seemed from the excess of pain already about to die. The abbess therefore begged the bishop to deign to go in to her and bless her, for she believed that at his blessing or touch she would soon be better. But he, asking when the girl had been bled, and learning that it was on the fourth day of the moon, said: 'You acted very foolishly and unskillfully in bleeding on the fourth day of the moon.'

'For I remember Archbishop Theodore of blessed memory saying that bloodletting at that time is very dangerous, when both the light of the moon and the tide of the ocean are on the increase. And what can I do for the girl, if she is to die?' But she, beseeching the more urgently for her daughter, whom she dearly loved—for she had even arranged to make her abbess in her own place—at last prevailed, so that he went in to the sick girl. So I went in with him, having been taken along to the virgin, who lay, as I have said, gripped by great pain, and her arm so swollen that there was no bending at all in the elbow; and standing by, he said a prayer over her, and blessing her, went out.

And when after this, at the fitting hour, we were sitting at table, a certain man came and called me outside, and said: 'Quoenburg' (for that was the virgin's name) 'asks that you return to her more quickly.' When I did so, entering I found her with a more cheerful countenance and as though like one in health. And while I sat beside her, she said: 'Would you like us to ask for something to drink?' And I said: 'Yes, I should be very glad, if you are able.' And when a cup was brought and we both drank, she began to tell me that, from the moment the bishop went out, having finished his prayer and blessing for me, I straightway begin to feel better;

and although I have not yet recovered my former strength, yet all the pain, both from the arm, where it was more burning, and from my whole body, has been utterly taken away, as though the bishop himself had carried it out with him, even though the swelling of the arm still seems to remain.' But as we departed thence, immediately the flight of the dreadful swelling followed upon the pain of the limbs that had been put to flight; and the virgin, snatched from death and from her pains, gave praises to the Lord her Saviour together with the rest of His servants who were there. [4] The same abbot related another miracle of the aforesaid bishop, not much unlike this one, saying: 'There was the estate of a certain gesith called Puch, not far from our monastery, that is, separated by a distance of about two miles;

whose wife had been held for nearly forty days by a most bitter sickness, so that for three weeks she could not be carried out of the chamber in which she lay. It happened at that time that the man of God was called thither by the same gesith to dedicate a church. And when the church had been dedicated, the gesith asked him to come into his house to dine. The bishop refused, saying that he ought to return to the monastery, which was close by. But he, pressing the more insistently with his prayers, even vowed that he would give alms to the poor, provided that on that day the bishop would deign to enter his house and break his fast.

I too joined him in asking, promising likewise that I would give alms for the sustenance of the needy, if only he would enter the gesith's house to dine and to give his blessing. And when we obtained this slowly and with difficulty, we went in to take refreshment. Now the bishop had sent to the woman who lay sick some of the holy water which he had consecrated at the dedication of the church, by one of those brothers who had come with me, charging that he should give it her to taste, and that wherever he learned the greatest pain to be in her, he should wash her with that same water. When this was done, the woman rose up at once whole, and perceiving that she was not only free of her long sickness, but had also regained the strength she had lately lost, she offered the cup to the bishop and to us;

and she did not cease the service she had begun of serving drink to us all until the meal was finished, imitating the mother-in-law of blessed Peter, who, when she had been wearied by the heats of fever, rose at the touch of the Lord's hand, and having received both health and strength, ministered to them. [5] At another time likewise, being called to dedicate the church of a gesith named Addi, when he had fulfilled what was asked of him, he was begged by the same gesith to go in to one of his servants, who was oppressed with a most severe sickness, so that, with every function of his limbs entirely failing, he seemed even now about to die; for whom a coffin had even already been prepared, in which when dead he should be buried.

And the man added tears to his prayers, earnestly beseeching that he would go in to pray for him, because his life was very necessary to him; and he indeed believed that, if the bishop would lay his hand upon him and bless him, he would at once be better. The bishop therefore went in thither, and saw him, with all in grief, already near to death, and the coffin set beside him in which he was to be laid for burial; and he said a prayer and blessed him, and going out said with the customary word of those who console: 'May you recover well, and quickly.' And when after this they were sitting at table, the servant sent to his master, asking that a cup of wine be sent to him, because he was thirsty. He, rejoicing greatly that he could drink, sent him a cup of wine blessed by the bishop;

and when he drank it, he at once rose up, and, the lethargy of his sickness being shaken off, he himself put on his garments; and going out from there he came in, and saluted the bishop and the guests, saying that he too would delight to eat and drink with them. They bade him sit down with them at the feast, rejoicing greatly at his recovery. He sat, ate, drank, was merry, and behaved as one of the guests; and living many years after this, he remained in the same health which he had received. Now this miracle the aforesaid abbot reports to have been related to him not as done in his presence, but by those who were present.

[6] Nor should this be passed over in silence, the miracle which Heribald, a servant of Christ, is wont to relate as wrought upon himself by him—a man who then indeed dwelt among his clergy, but now by right of abbot presides over the monastery which is near the mouth of the river Tyne. 'His life,' he says, 'so far as it is permitted to men to judge, I, who was present, knew most excellently, and found it in all things worthy of a bishop. But of what merit he was held to be before the inward Witness, I have proved both in many other matters and most of all in my own self; inasmuch as he recalled me, so to say, from the very threshold of death, and led me back by his prayer and blessing to the way of life.

For when in the earliest time of my youth I dwelt among his clergy, given over to the studies of reading and singing, but not yet perfectly restraining my mind from youthful allurements, it happened one day that, as we journeyed with him, we came upon a level and broad road well suited for the coursing of horses; and the young men who were with him, especially the laymen, began to beg the bishop that it might be allowed them to test their horses against one another in a swifter course. At first he refused, saying that what they desired was idle; but at last, overcome by the unanimous intent of many, he said: 'Do it, if you wish, yet so that Herebald keep himself utterly from that contest.'

Moreover I myself, beseeching the more earnestly that the chance of contending with them might be given me also (for I trusted in a horse which he himself had given me as an excellent one), could by no means obtain it. But when, with myself and the bishop looking on, they again and again returned hither and thither with their horses urged into a course, I too, overcome by a wanton spirit, could not restrain myself, but, though he forbade it, mingled with the players, and began at once to compete in the horse's course. While I was doing this, I heard him behind my back saying to me with a groan: 'O what great grief you cause me by riding thus!' And I, though I heard, none the less persisted in the forbidden undertaking.

And without delay, while my mettlesome horse with stronger impetus was leaping over a certain hollow in the road, I slipped and fell, and at once, as though dying, I utterly lost all sense and motion. For there was in that place a stone level with the ground, covered with thin turf, nor could any other stone be found in all that plain of the field; and by chance it came about—or rather by divine provision, for the punishment of the fault of my disobedience—that I struck it with my head and with the hand which in falling I had put beneath my head, and, my thumb being broken, the joint of the head too was loosened; and I, as I said, became most like a dead man. And because I could not be moved, they stretched a tent there in which I might lie.

Now it was about the seventh hour of the day, from which until evening I remained quiet and as if dead, and then I revived a little, and was carried home by my companions, and lay silent the whole night through. I was vomiting blood, too, because my inward parts had also been bruised by the fall. But the bishop grieved most grievously over my mishap and ruin, because he loved me with a special affection; nor would he that night, after his custom, remain with his clerics, but spending the whole night alone in prayer, kept vigil, beseeching the supernal mercy, as I suppose, for my recovery. And at early morning, coming in to me, and having said a prayer over me, he called me by my name, and, as though rousing me from a deep sleep, asked whether I knew who it was that spoke to me.

And I, opening my eyes, said: 'Yes; you are my beloved bishop.' 'Can you live?' he said. And I: 'I can,' I said, 'through your prayers, if the Lord will.' He, laying his hand upon my head, with words of blessing, returned to prayer; and revisiting me after a little while, he found me sitting up and now able to speak; and he began to ask me, prompted, as soon appeared, by divine instinct, whether I knew without doubt that I had been baptized. To which I answered that I knew this without any doubt, that I had been washed in the saving font for the remission of sins; and I named the priest by whom I knew I had been baptized. But he said: 'If you were baptized by this priest, you were not perfectly baptized;

for I know him, and that, although he had been ordained priest, he could by no means learn the ministry of catechizing or baptizing, on account of the slowness of his wit; for which reason I myself charged him by all means to cease from the presumption of this ministry, which he was unable to fulfil according to the rule.' Having said this, at that same hour he himself took care to catechize me; and it came to pass that, as he breathed upon my face, I straightway felt myself better. He also called a physician, and bade him set and bind together the loosened joint of my skull. And so much did I forthwith recover, upon receiving his blessing, that on the morrow, mounting a horse, I made the journey with him to another place; nor long afterward, being fully cured, I was also bathed in the water of life.

Now he remained in the bishopric thirty-three years, and so, ascending to the heavenly kingdoms, was buried in the porch of St Peter in his own monastery, which is called In the Wood of the Deira folk, in the year from the Lord's incarnation 721. For when through greater old age he was less sufficient for administering the bishopric, having ordained his own priest Wilfrid into the bishopric of the church of York, he withdrew to the aforesaid monastery, and there completed his life in conduct worthy of God. [7] Now in the third year of the reign of Aldfrith, Caedwalla, king of the West Saxons, when he had most vigorously ruled over his people for two years, leaving his sovereignty for the sake of the Lord and an everlasting kingdom, came to Rome;

desiring to attain this for himself as a singular glory, that at the thresholds of the blessed apostles he might be washed in the font of baptism, in which alone he had learned that the entrance of the heavenly life lies open to the human race; hoping at the same time also that, soon after being baptized and loosed from the flesh, he might pass over now cleansed to eternal joys; both of which, as he had purposed in mind, were accomplished with the Lord's help. For coming thither, while Sergius held the pontificate, he was baptized on the holy day of the Easter Sabbath in the year from the Lord's incarnation 689; and while still in the white robes, being seized by sickness, on the twelfth day before the Kalends of May he was loosed from the flesh and joined to the kingdom of the blessed in heaven.

At the time of his baptism the said pope had also imposed on him the name of Peter, that he might be joined even in the partnership of that name to the most blessed prince of the apostles, to whose most sacred body he had come, drawn from the ends of the earth by a devout love; who was also buried in his church; and by the pontiff's command an epitaph was written on his monument, in which both the memory of his devotion might remain fixed through the ages, and the example of the deed might kindle those reading or hearing it to zeal for religion. It was written, then, in this manner: 'Eminence, wealth, offspring, mighty realms, triumphs, spoils, nobles, walls, camps, household gods; and whatever the valour of his fathers, and whatever he himself, Caedwal mighty in arms, had heaped together, he forsook for the love of God;

that the king, a guest, might behold Peter and the seat of Peter, that from his font the gracious one might take the pure waters, and from the radiant draught might pluck the splendid brightness, from which the life-giving radiance flows everywhere. And eagerly receiving the rewards of a renewed life, his barbaric fury and his name as well, being converted, he changed, rejoicing; and Bishop Sergius bade him be called Peter, being himself a father by the font of one reborn, whom the grace of Christ cleansing straightway bore, made white, into the citadel of heaven. Wondrous the king's faith, exceeding great the clemency of Christ, whose counsel none can approach! For coming safe from the farthest bound of Britain, through various peoples, through straits, and through ways, he beheld the Romulean city, and gazed upon the venerable temple, bearing the mystic gifts of Peter.

White he shall go, a fellow among the sheep of Christ; for in body he holds the tomb, in mind the things above. You would rather believe he had exchanged the ensigns of his sceptre, whom you see to have merited the kingdom of Christ. Here is laid Caedwal, who is also Peter, king of the Saxons, on the twelfth day before the Kalends of May, in the second indiction; who lived more or less thirty years, in the reign of the most pious lord Justinian Augustus, in the fourth year of his consulship, while the apostolic man lord Pope Sergius held the pontificate in his second year.' Now when Caedwalla departed to Rome, Ine succeeded to the kingdom, of the royal stock;

who, when he had held the rule of that people for thirty-seven years, himself too, leaving the kingdom and committing it to younger men, set out for the thresholds of the blessed apostles while Gregory held the pontificate, desiring to sojourn for a time in the lands near the holy places, that he might be the more familiarly received by the saints in heaven; which in these times many of the English nation, noble and common, lay and clergy, men and women, have been wont eagerly to do. [8] Now in the year next after that in which Caedwalla died at Rome, that is, the 690th of the Lord's incarnation, Theodore, archbishop of blessed memory, an old man and full of days, that is, of eighty-eight years, died;

which number of years he himself, long before instructed by a revelation in sleep that he would attain to it, was wont to foretell to his own people. Now he remained in the bishopric twenty-two years, and was buried in the church of St Peter, in which the bodies of all the bishops of Canterbury are laid; of whom, together with the partners of his own rank, it can rightly and truly be said that 'their bodies are buried in peace, and their name shall live unto generations and generations.' For, to speak briefly, the churches of the English took such spiritual advance in the time of his prelacy as they had never before been able to take.

His person, life, age, and death, the epitaph also of his monument, in thirty-four heroic verses, openly and clearly sets forth to all coming thither; of which the first are these: 'Here a holy prelate rests in the tomb with his body, whom now the Pelasgian tongue calls Theodore. Chief of pontiffs, blessed and supreme priest, he expounded clear doctrines to his disciples.' And the last are these: 'For September held its nineteenth day, when the spirit went forth from the prison of the flesh. Mounting blessed to the fellowship of the new life, joined to the angelic citizens in the citadel of heaven.' Now there succeeded Theodore in the bishopric Berhtwald, who had been abbot in the monastery which, set near the northern mouth of the river Genlade, is called Reculver;

himself also a man imbued with the knowledge of the scriptures, but withal supremely instructed in ecclesiastical and monastic disciplines, though by no means to be compared with his predecessor; who was indeed elected to the bishopric in the year of the Lord's incarnation 692, on the first day of the month of July, while Wihtred and Swæfheard reigned in Kent; but was ordained in the following year on the third day before the Kalends of July, on a Sunday, by Godwin, metropolitan bishop of Gaul; and sat in his see on the day before the Kalends of September, a Sunday;

who, among the many prelates whom he ordained, also, when Gebmund, prelate of the church of Rochester, had died, consecrated Tobias in his stead, a man manifoldly instructed in the Latin, Greek, and Saxon tongue and in learning. [9] At that time the venerable servant of Christ and priest Ecgberht—to be named with all honour—whom we have related to lead a pilgrim life in the island of Ireland for the sake of attaining a homeland in heaven, purposed in his mind to be of profit to many; that is, having entered upon an apostolic work, to commit himself to evangelizing the word of God to some of those nations which had not yet heard it;

of which he knew there were very many nations in Germany, from whom the Angles or Saxons, who now inhabit Britain, are known to have derived their race and origin; whence to this day they are corruptly called Garmani by the neighbouring people of the Britons. There are, moreover, the Frisians, the Rugini, the Danes, the Huns, the Old Saxons, the Boructuari; there are also very many other peoples in those same parts still serving pagan rites, to whom the aforesaid soldier of Christ resolved to go, having sailed round Britain, if perchance he might be able to bring some of them, rescued from Satan, over to Christ; or, if this could not be done, he thought to come to Rome to see and adore the thresholds of the blessed apostles and martyrs of Christ.

But lest he should accomplish any of these things, those heavenly oracles and works alike withstood him. For when he had chosen most vigorous companions, fit for preaching the word, as being distinguished alike in action and in learning, and all things had been prepared which seemed necessary to seafarers, there came one day at early morning to him one of the brothers, formerly in Britain a disciple and minister of the priest Boisil, beloved of God (when the same Boisil was prior of the monastery of Melrose under abbot Eata, as we have related above), relating to him a vision which had appeared to him that same night:

'When,' he said, 'the matins hymns being ended, I had laid my limbs upon my pallet, and a light slumber had stolen over me, there appeared my former master and most loving foster-father Boisil, and asked me whether I could recognize him. I said: "Yes; for you are Boisil." But he said: "I have come for this, that I may bring to Ecgberht the answer of the Lord and Saviour, which nevertheless he must hear by your telling. Tell him, therefore, that he is not able to fulfil the journey which he has purposed; for it is of God's will that he go rather to teach the monasteries of Columba."'

Now Columba was the first teacher of the Christian faith to the Picts beyond the mountains to the north, and the first founder of the monastery which long remained venerable to many peoples of the Scots and Picts in the island of Iona. This Columba is now called by some, from the name compounded of 'cella' and 'Columba,' Columcille. But Ecgberht, on hearing the words of the vision, charged the brother who had related it not to relate these things to any other, lest perchance the vision should be illusory. He himself, however, silently considering the matter, feared that it was true; nor yet would he cease from preparing the journey by which he might go to teach the nations.

But after a few days the aforesaid brother again came to him, saying that that night also, after matins were ended, Boisil had appeared to him in a vision, saying: 'Why have you told Ecgberht so negligently and lukewarmly the things which I charged you to tell him? But now go and tell him that, willing or unwilling, he must come to the monasteries of Columba, because their ploughs do not run straight; and he ought to recall these to the right track.' On hearing this, he again charged the brother not to disclose these things to anyone. He himself, however, although he was made certain of the vision, nevertheless attempted to begin the appointed journey with the aforesaid brothers.

And when they had now put on board the ship the things which the necessity of so great a journey demanded, and were awaiting for some days favourable winds, there arose on a certain night so fierce a tempest that, having destroyed in some part the things which were in the ship, it left the very ship lying on its side among the waves; yet all the things that belonged to Ecgberht and his companions were saved. Then he himself, as it were uttering that prophetic word, that 'this tempest is on my account,' withdrew himself from that voyage, and suffered himself to remain at home.

But indeed one of his companions, Wihtberht by name, since he too was distinguished by contempt of the world and by the knowledge of doctrine (for he had for many years as a pilgrim in Ireland led an anchorite's life in great perfection), went aboard a ship, and coming to Frisia, for two continuous years preached the word of salvation to that people and to their king Radbod, nor found among his barbarian hearers any fruit of so great a labour. Then returning to the place of his beloved pilgrimage, he began after his wont to be at leisure for the Lord in silence; and since he could not profit outsiders unto the faith, he took care to profit his own the more by examples of his virtues.

[10] But when the man of the Lord, Ecgberht, saw that he himself was not permitted to come to preach to the nations, being kept back for another usefulness of the holy church, of which he had been forewarned by an oracle; nor that Wihtberht, coming into those parts, profited anything; he attempted still to send into the work of the word holy and industrious men, among whom the eminent Wilbrord shone forth in the rank and merit of a priest. When these had come thither—and they were twelve in number—turning aside to Pippin, duke of the Franks, they were graciously received by him; and because he had lately taken hither Frisia, the king Radbod having been driven thence, he sent them thither to preach; aiding them also by his imperial authority, that none might bring any trouble upon the preachers;

and exalting with many benefits those who were willing to receive the faith; whence it came about, by the help of divine grace, that in a short time they converted many from idolatry to the faith of Christ. Following the examples of these, two certain priests of the nation of the Angles, who had long sojourned in Ireland for the sake of the eternal homeland, came to the province of the Old Saxons, if perchance they might be able to win some there by preaching Christ. Now both were of one devotion, as also of one name; for each of them was called Hewald; with this distinction, however, that on account of the different colour of their hair, one was called Black Hewald, the other White Hewald;

both of whom were imbued with the piety of religion, but Black Hewald was the more instructed in the knowledge of the sacred letters. These, coming into the province, entered the lodging of a certain steward, and asked of him that they might be sent on to the chief who was over him, because they had a certain embassy and useful cause which they ought to convey to him. For these same Old Saxons have no king, but very many chiefs set over their nation, who, when the crisis of war presses, cast lots equally, and whomsoever the lot shows, him all follow as leader for the time of war, and to him they submit; but the war being ended, all the chiefs again become of equal power.

The steward therefore received them, and promising to send them to the chief who was over him, as they asked, kept them with him for some days. But when they were recognized by the barbarians to be of another religion (for they were always at leisure for psalms and prayers, and daily offered to God the sacrifice of the saving victim, having with them sacred vessels and a board dedicated in place of an altar), they were held suspect, because, if they should reach the chief and speak with him, they might turn him away from his gods, and bring him over to the new religion of the Christian faith, and thus little by little their whole province would be compelled to change its old worship for the new. And so they suddenly seized them, and put them to death;

White Hewald indeed by the swift slaying of the sword, but Black Hewald by a long torment of tortures and a horrible tearing apart of all his limbs; whom, having slain, they cast into the Rhine. When that chief whom they wished to see heard of this, he was greatly enraged that the foreigners desiring to come to him had not been permitted; and sending, he killed all those villagers, and consumed the village with fire. Now the aforesaid priests and servants of Christ suffered on the fifth day before the Nones of October. Nor were heavenly miracles wanting to their martyrdom.

For when their slain bodies had been thrown into the river by the pagans, as we have said, it came to pass that these were carried against the current of the down-rushing stream, for nearly forty miles, even to those places where their companions were. Moreover a most great beam of light, reaching up even to heaven, shone every night above the spot wherever it chanced that they had come, and this even while the pagans who had killed them looked on. Furthermore one of them appeared in a vision of the night to a certain one of his companions, whose name was Tilmon, an illustrious man and noble also in the world's account, who from a soldier had become a monk; showing him that he could find their bodies in that place where he should behold a light shining from heaven upon the earth.

And so it was fulfilled. For their bodies, having been found, were laid to rest with honour worthy of martyrs, and the day of their passion or of their finding was celebrated with fitting veneration in those places. At length the most glorious duke of the Franks, Pippin, when he learned of these things, sent and had their bodies brought to him, and laid them with much glory in the church of the city of Cologne beside the Rhine. It is also reported that in the place where they were slain a fountain gushed forth, which to this very day in that same place pours out the abundant gifts of its stream.

[11] In the earliest days of their coming into Frisia, as soon as Wilbrord learned that licence to preach there had been granted him by the prince, he hastened to come to Rome, over whose apostolic see Pope Sergius then presided, so that with his licence and blessing he might enter upon the longed-for work of evangelizing the nations; hoping also at the same time to receive from him relics of the blessed apostles and martyrs of Christ, so that, when among the people to whom he should preach he should establish churches after the idols had been destroyed, he might have ready at hand relics of the saints to bring in there; and that these being deposited there, he might consequently dedicate each several place in honour of those whose relics they were.

But he also desired to learn there, or to receive thence, many other things which the business of so great a work required. And when in all these matters he had been made master of his wish, he returned to his preaching. At which time the brethren who were in Frisia, devoted to the ministry of the word, chose out of their own number a man modest in manners and gentle of heart, Swidberht, that he might be ordained bishop for them; and being sent to Britain at their request, he was ordained by the most reverend bishop Wilfrid, who then by chance, having been driven from his own country, was an exile in the regions of the Mercians. For at that time Kent had no bishop, Theodore being indeed dead, but his successor Berhtwald not yet returned to the see of his bishopric, having gone beyond the sea to be ordained.

This same Swidberht, having received the bishopric and returned from Britain, not long after withdrew to the people of the Boructuari, and by preaching led many of them to the way of truth. But when the Boructuari were not long after subdued by the people of the Old Saxons, those who had received the word were scattered wherever they could; the bishop himself with certain others sought out Pippin, who, at the intercession of his wife Bliththryth, gave him a place of dwelling on a certain island of the Rhine, which in their tongue is called In litore (On the shore); in which, having built a monastery, which his heirs possess to this day, he led for some time a most continent life, and there he closed his last day.

But after they who had come had taught in Frisia for some years, Pippin, with the favour and consent of all, sent the venerable man Wilbrord to Rome, whose pontificate Sergius still held, requesting that he might be ordained archbishop for that same Frisian people. And this, as he had asked, was fulfilled, in the year of the Lord's incarnation 696. He was ordained, moreover, in the church of the holy martyr Cecilia, on the day of her birth (into heaven), the name Clement being imposed upon him by the aforesaid Pope; and he was soon sent back to the see of his bishopric, that is, fourteen days after he had come to the city.

Now Pippin gave him the place of his episcopal see in his own illustrious fortress, which in the ancient speech of those peoples is called Wiltaburg, that is, the Town of the Wilti, but in the Gallic tongue is called Traiectum (Utrecht); in which, having built a church, the most reverend bishop, preaching the word of faith far and wide, and recalling many from their error, built many churches throughout those regions, and also several monasteries. For not long after he himself appointed in those regions other bishops as well, out of the number of those brethren who had come thither to preach either with him or after him; of whom several have already fallen asleep in the Lord.

But Wilbrord himself, surnamed Clement, is still alive, now venerable in his long age, being indeed in the thirty-sixth year of his episcopate, and, after manifold contests of the heavenly warfare, sighing with his whole mind for the rewards of the recompense on high. [12] In these times a memorable miracle, like to those of old, was wrought in Britain. For, to rouse the living from the death of the soul, a certain man who had for some time been dead rose again to the life of the body, and related many things worthy of remembrance which he had seen; of which I have thought that some few should here be briefly touched upon. There was, then, a householder in the region of the Northumbrians which is called Cunningham, leading a religious life with his household;

who, being touched by an infirmity of body, and this growing day by day, was brought to the last extremity, and at the first part of the night died; but at daybreak coming to life again, and suddenly sitting up, he turned to flight all who were sitting and weeping by the body, struck with an immense fear; only his wife, who loved him more, although greatly trembling and fearful, remained. Whom he comforted, saying: 'Do not fear, for I have now truly risen from the death by which I was held, and am permitted again to live among men; yet I must not henceforth live in the manner to which I was before accustomed, but in one far different.'

And immediately rising, he went off to the oratory of the little farmstead, and continuing in prayer until daybreak, he soon divided all the substance he had possessed into three portions, of which he handed over one to his wife, another to his sons, and retaining the third for himself, distributed it at once to the poor. And not long after, freed from the cares of the world, he came to the monastery of Melrose, which is for the most part enclosed by a bend of the river Tweed; and having received the tonsure, he entered the place of secret dwelling which the abbot had provided; and there until the day of his death he endured in such contrition of mind and body that, even if his tongue had been silent, his life would have declared that he had seen many things, either dreadful or to be desired, which lay hidden from others.

Now he related what he had seen in this manner: 'Bright of aspect and shining of garment,' he said, 'was he who led me. We walked in silence, as it seemed to me, toward the rising of the solstitial sun; and as we walked, we came to a valley of great breadth and depth, but of infinite length; which, lying on our left, presented on one side, exceedingly terrible with boiling flames, the other no less intolerable with raging hail and the cold of snows blowing through and sweeping over everything. And both sides were full of the souls of men, which by turns seemed to be tossed hither and thither as if by the violence of a storm. For when they could not bear the force of the immense heat, the wretched souls leaped into the midst of the deadly cold;

and when there too they could find no rest, they sprang back again to be burned into the midst of the inextinguishable flames. And while by this wretched alternation, far and wide as far as I could see, without any respite of quiet, an innumerable multitude of deformed spirits was being tormented, I began to think that perhaps this was hell, of whose intolerable torments I had often heard tell. The guide who went before me answered my thought: 'Do not,' he said, 'suppose this; for this is not that hell which you think.' But when he had led me on little by little, terrified by so dreadful a spectacle, into the parts beyond, I saw the places before us suddenly begin to grow dark, and all to be filled with shadows.

And when we entered into them, they grew so dense in a little while that I could see nothing except them, save only the form and garment of him who was leading me. And as we went forward alone beneath the night through the shadows, behold, suddenly there appear before us frequent globes of foul flames, ascending as if from a great pit, and falling back again into the same. And when I had been led to it, suddenly my guide vanished, and left me alone in the midst of the darkness and of that horrid vision.

And while these same globes of fire without intermission now sought the heights, now sank back to the depths of the abyss, I perceive that all the tongues of flame which ascended were full of the spirits of men, who, after the manner of sparks ascending with smoke, were now flung up to the higher parts, now, when the vapours of the fires were drawn back, slipped down again into the depths. Moreover an incomparable stench, boiling up with those same vapours, filled all those places of darkness. And while I stood there for some while in fear, being uncertain what I should do, whither I should turn my step, what end awaited me, I hear behind my back a sudden sound of a most monstrous and most wretched weeping, and at the same time a crackling laughter as of an untaught rabble insulting captured foes.

And as that same sound, becoming clearer, reached even to me, I observe a throng of malign spirits, which, dragging into those shadows five souls of men lamenting and wailing, while it itself greatly exulted and cackled, drew them into the midst; of which men, namely, as far as I could discern, one was tonsured like a clerk, one was a layman, and one a woman. But the malign spirits dragging them descended into the midst of that burning abyss; and it came to pass that, as they went down further off, I could no longer clearly distinguish the weeping of the men from the laughter of the demons, yet I still had a confused sound in my ears.

Meanwhile certain of the dark spirits ascended from that flame-vomiting abyss, and running up surrounded me, and with flaming eyes, and breathing out a foul fire from mouth and nostrils, harassed me; with fiery tongs, too, which they held in their hands, they threatened to seize me, yet did not in any way touch me, though they presumed to terrify me.

When, being shut in on every side by foes and by the blindness of the darkness, I cast my eyes hither and thither, to see whether perchance from somewhere any help might come by which I should be saved, there appeared behind me, on the way by which I had come, as it were the brightness of a glittering star shining amid the shadows; which, growing little by little and hastening more swiftly toward me, when it drew near, all the hostile spirits who sought to snatch me with their tongs were scattered and fled away. But he who, coming, put them to flight, was that same one who before had led me; who, soon turning to the right-hand way, began to lead me as it were toward the rising of the winter sun. And without delay, drawing me out of the darkness, he brought me forth into the airs of serene light;

and when he led me into the open light, I saw before us a most great wall, of whose length on either side, nor of whose height, there seemed to be any limit. I began, moreover, to wonder why we approached the wall, since I could perceive in it no door, or window, or means of ascent anywhere. When therefore we had come to the wall, immediately, by I know not what means, we were on the top of it. And behold, there was a field most wide and most joyful, and so full of the fragrance of blossoming flowers that the sweetness of this wondrous odour soon put to flight all the stench of the gloomy furnace which had pervaded me. So great a light, moreover, had bathed all those places, that it seemed to be more glorious than all the splendour of day or the rays of the noonday sun.

And there were in this field innumerable assemblies of men robed in white, and very many seats of rejoicing companies. And while he led me through the midst of the choirs of the happy inhabitants, I began to think that this perhaps was the kingdom of heaven, of which I had often heard it preached. He answered my thought: 'No,' he said, 'this is not the kingdom of heaven which you suppose.' And when, proceeding, we had passed beyond even these dwellings of the blessed spirits, I behold before us a grace of light far greater than before; in which also I heard a most sweet voice of singers; and so great a fragrance of a wondrous odour was poured forth from the place, that the one which before, when I tasted it, I reckoned to be the greatest, now seemed to me a very slight odour;

just as even that surpassing light of the flowering field, in comparison with that light which now appeared, seemed altogether very faint and small. While I was hoping that we should enter into the loveliness of this place, the guide suddenly halted; and without delay, turning back his step, he led me back by that same way by which we had come. And when, having returned, we reached those joyful dwellings of the white-robed spirits, he said to me: 'Do you know what all these things are which you have seen?' I answered: 'No.' And he said:

'That valley which you beheld, dreadful with boiling flames and with rigid colds, that is the place in which are to be examined and chastised the souls of those who, putting off to confess and amend the crimes they have committed, at last in the very article of death flee to penitence, and so go out of the body; who nevertheless, because they had confession and penitence even in death, all on the day of judgement come to the kingdom of heaven. But many are helped by the prayers of the living, and alms, and fasts, and especially the celebration of Masses, so that they are delivered even before the day of judgement.

Further, that flame-vomiting and foul pit which you saw is the very mouth of Gehenna, into which whosoever has once fallen will never be delivered thence for ever. But that flowering place, in which you behold this most beautiful youth rejoicing and shining, is that in which are received the souls of those who indeed go out of the body in good works; yet are not of such perfection that they deserve to be at once brought into the kingdom of heaven; who nevertheless all on the day of judgement will enter into the vision of Christ and the joys of the heavenly kingdom. For whosoever are perfect in every word, and work, and thought, as soon as they go out of the body come to the heavenly kingdom;

to whose neighbourhood belongs that place where you heard the sound of sweet song with the odour of sweetness and the splendour of light. But you, because you must now return to the body and live again among men, if you take care to examine your acts more diligently, and to keep your manners and discourse in uprightness and simplicity, you yourself also will receive after death a place of dwelling among these joyful companies of blessed spirits which you behold. For I, when for a time I had departed from you, did so to learn what ought to be done concerning you.' When he had said these things to me, I greatly loathed to return to the body, delighted as I was by the sweetness and beauty of that place which I beheld, and at the same time by the fellowship of those whom I saw in it.

Yet I did not dare to ask my guide anything; but in the meantime, by I know not what means, I suddenly perceive myself living among men.' These things and others which he had seen, this same man of the Lord was not willing to relate to all alike, to the slothful and to those careless of their own life, but only to those who, either terrified by fear of torments, or delighted by hope of perennial joys, were willing to draw from his words a profit of piety. At length there dwelt in the neighbourhood of that cell a certain monk named Haemgils, eminent in rank, being a priest, which dignity he matched by his good deeds, who still survives, and in the island of Ireland as a solitary sustains the last age of his life on coarse bread and cold water.

He, frequently going in to the same man, heard from him by repeated questioning what and what kind of things he had seen when out of the body; through whose narration these things, of which we have touched a few, came also to our knowledge. He related his visions, moreover, even to King Aldfrith, a man most learned in every respect; and he was heard by him so willingly and so eagerly that, at his request, he was admitted into the aforesaid monastery and crowned with the monastic tonsure, and very often, when he came into those parts, would go to hear him.

Over which monastery at that time there presided, as abbot and priest, Aethilwald, a man of religious and modest life, who now holds the episcopal chair of the church of Lindisfarne, serving it by deeds worthy of his rank. He received, moreover, in the same monastery a more secluded place of dwelling, where he might more freely be at leisure for the service of his Creator in continual prayers. And because the place itself was situated upon the bank of a river, he was wont often, out of a great desire of chastising the body, to enter it, and oftentimes to immerse himself in the waves passing over him; and thus there, as long as he seemed able to endure, to persist in psalms or prayers, and to remain fixed, the water of the river rising up to his loins, and sometimes even to his neck;

and coming out thence to land, he never took care to put off those same garments, wet and chilled, until they should be warmed and dried by his own body. And when in winter time, amid the crusts of half-broken ice floating around him, which he himself had sometimes broken to pieces in order to have a place for standing or immersing himself in the river, those who saw it would say: 'It is a marvel, brother Drythelm' (for this was the man's name), 'that you are able by any means to endure such severity of cold.' He would answer simply, for he was a man of simple disposition and moderate nature: 'I have seen colder things.' And when they said: 'It is a marvel that you are willing to keep so austere an abstinence,' he would answer: 'I have seen more austere things.'

And thus, until the day of his calling, with untiring desire of heavenly goods, he subdued his aged body amid daily fasts, and by both word and conversation was a means of salvation to many. [13] But in contrast there was a certain man in the province of the Mercians, whose visions and words, but not also his manner of life, profited very many, but not himself. Now he was, in the times of Coenred, who reigned after Aethelred, a man placed in lay habit and in military office; but as much as he was pleasing to the king by his outward diligence, so much was he displeasing by his inward negligence of himself.

He (the king) therefore admonished him diligently that he should confess, and amend, and forsake his crimes, before by the sudden coming of death he should lose all time of repenting and amending. But he, although frequently admonished, scorned the words of salvation, and promised that in the following time he would do penance. Amid these things, being touched by an infirmity, he fell into bed, and began to be tormented by sharp pain. The king, going in to him, for he loved him much, exhorted him that even then, before he died, he should do penance for the things he had committed. But he answered that he did not then wish to confess his sins, but when he should rise from his infirmity; lest his comrades should reproach him that out of fear of death he did the things which when whole he had been unwilling to do;

speaking valiantly indeed, as it seemed to himself, but wretchedly, as afterward became plain, being seduced by demonic deceit. And when, the disease growing worse, the king again went in to visit and to instruct him, he straightway cried out with a wretched voice: 'What do you want now? Why have you come hither? For you can no longer confer on me any usefulness or salvation.' But he said: 'Do not speak thus; see that you be of sound mind.' 'I am not mad,' he said, 'but I have, assured, before my eyes a most evil knowledge.' 'And what,' he said, 'is this?' 'A little while ago,' he said, 'there entered this house two most beautiful young men, and sat down about me, one at my head, and one at my feet; and one brought out a most beautiful little book, but exceedingly small, and gave it me to read;

in which, gazing, I found written all the good things I had ever done, and these were exceedingly few and small. They took back the book, and said nothing to me. Then suddenly there came an army of malign and horrid-faced spirits, and they both beset this house from without, and, settling down within for the most part, filled it. Then that one who, both by the obscurity of his shadowy face and by the primacy of his seat, seemed to be the greater of them, bringing forth a book of dreadful aspect, and of enormous size, and of a weight almost unbearable, commanded one of his attendants to bring it me to read.

Which when I had read, I found all my crimes, not only those by which I had sinned in deed or in word, but even those by the most slight thought, most manifestly described in it in grim letters. And he said to those white-robed and resplendent men who had sat by me: "Why do you sit here, knowing most certainly that this man is ours?" They answered: "You speak truly; take him and lead him into the heap of your damnation." Which said, they straightway vanished; and two most wicked spirits, rising up, having in their hands ploughshares, struck me, one in the head and the other in the foot:

which, namely, now with great torment are creeping into the inner parts of my body, and as soon as they meet one another, I shall die, and, with the demons made ready to snatch me, I shall be dragged into the prisons of hell.' Thus spoke the wretched man in despair, and not long after, having died, he now performs without fruit, subjected to punishments for ever, the penance which for a short time, with the fruit of pardon, he refrained from doing. Concerning whom it is certain that, as the blessed Pope Gregory writes of certain men, he saw these things not for himself, to whom they profited nothing, but for others, who, knowing his ruin, might fear to put off the time of penance while it is free, lest, forestalled by the unforeseen article of death, they should perish impenitent.

But that he saw diverse books offered to him by the good or the evil spirits, was done by heavenly dispensation for this end, that we might remember that our deeds and thoughts do not flow away into the wind, but are all kept for the examination of the supreme Judge; and are to be shown to us at the end either by friendly angels or by foes. But that the angels first brought forth a white book, then the demons a black one; they a very small one, these an enormous one; it is to be observed that in his early age he did some good things, all of which, however, he obscured by living wickedly as a young man. Who, if on the contrary he had taken care to correct the errors of childhood in his youth, and by doing well to hide them from the eyes of God, might have been associated with the number of those of whom the psalm says:

'Blessed are they whose iniquities are forgiven, and whose sins are covered.' This history, just as I learned it from the venerable bishop Pecthelm, I have thought should be related simply for the salvation of those who read or hear it. [14] But I myself knew a brother (whom would that I had not known!), whose name even, if this would profit anything, I could tell; placed in a noble monastery, but himself living ignobly. He was indeed diligently rebuked by the brethren and elders of the place, and admonished to turn to a more chastened life. And although he had been unwilling to hear them, yet he was tolerated by them with long-suffering on account of the need of his outward works; for he was singular in the smith's craft.

But he was much given to drunkenness and to the other allurements of a more relaxed life; and he was wont rather to abide in his workshop day and night than to run together with the brethren to chant and to pray in church, and to hear the word of life. Whence it befell him, as some are wont to say, that he who will not of his own accord enter humbled the door of the church, must needs be brought in, condemned against his will, into the door of hell. For, being struck with sickness, and brought to the last extremity, he called the brethren, and, much mourning and like one condemned, began to relate that he saw hell open, and Satan plunged in the depths of Tartarus, and Caiphas with the rest who slew the Lord, near him, delivered over to avenging flames:

'in whose neighbourhood,' he said, 'alas, for wretched me, I behold a place of eternal perdition prepared.' The brethren, hearing these things, began diligently to exhort him that even then, while still placed in the body, he should do penance. But he answered in despair: 'There is now for me no time of changing my life, since I myself have seen that my judgement is already completed.' Speaking such things, he died without the viaticum of salvation, and his body was buried in the farthest parts of the monastery, nor did anyone presume either to celebrate Masses for him, or to sing psalms, or even to pray. O with how great a distance has God divided between the light and the darkness!

The blessed protomartyr Stephen, about to suffer death for the truth, saw the heavens opened, saw the glory of God and Jesus standing at the right hand of God; and where he himself was to be after death, thither, that he might fall the more joyful, he sent the eyes of his mind before death. But on the contrary, this smith of dark mind and action, with death imminent, saw Tartarus open, saw the damnation of the devil and his followers; he saw also his own unhappy prison among such, that he himself might perish the more wretchedly with salvation despaired of, but might leave to the living who should learn these things, by his own perdition, a cause of salvation. This happened lately in the province of the Bernicians; and, being spread abroad far and wide, it provoked many to perform, and not to defer, repentance for their crimes.

And would that henceforth this might come to pass even by the reading of our writings! [15] At which time a very great part of the Scots in Ireland, and also not a few of the Britons in Britain, by the Lord's gift took up the rational and ecclesiastical time of the observance of Easter. For Adamnan, priest and abbot of the monks who were in the island of Iona, when, sent by his people for the sake of an embassy, he had come to Aldfrith, king of the English, and, tarrying for some time in that province, beheld the canonical rites of the church;