Cuthbert's Letter on the Illness and Death of Bede

This admirable letter was written by Cuthbert, monk, and later Abbot of Jarrow, who confirmed and supplemented its contents in a letter to Lul nearly thirty years later (see note 1 here). An eye-witness account, it seems to date from soon after 735: it reveals deep admiration for Bede himself, but also a desire to write for posterity in a style dose to Bede’s own. This makes it a most fitting memorial to Bede as an effective teacher and as a model monk.

The deathbed of a saint is a literary genre of which there are many examples, for instance Martin of Tours, Columba of Iona, Ailred of Rievaulx and Hugh of Lincoln. Cuthbert’s letter stands comparison with all these: its disciplined structure and controlled emotion make it especially moving. It adds to our knowledge of Bede and his community while being entirely consonant with what Bede tells us about himself in the last chapter of his History¹ and about his community in his Lives of the Abbots². Recent archaeological discoveries at Jarrow by Professor Rosemary Cramp add to this knowledge, enabling us to envisage Bede’s cell as small and about ten feet square, with a low wooden screen separating, what is thought to be the prayer-area, from the rest.

Stylistically the Death of Bede³ is a superbly worked mosaic of quotations from, and allusions to, New Testament texts describing the death of Christ and the death of Paul, patristic and liturgical elements and Bede’s own preface to his Life of St Cuthbert⁴, the whole arranged in a complex biblical structure. With Cuthbert’s other letter, it is good evidence for the early cult of Bede as a saint.

It soon enjoyed a wide circulation, as is clear from the survival to our own day of sixty-five medieval manuscripts with early examples from both England and the Continent. It has often been translated before, notably by John Henry Newman, Charles Plummer and by Colgrave and Mynors who took the Latin text from the Hague manuscript (see E. van K. Dobbie, Cedmon’s Hymn and Beds’s Death Song⁵, New York 1937, and N. R. Ker, Medium Aevum⁶ viii (1939), 40–44). More recently Dr David Howlett has convincingly identified it as an example of biblical style, abounding in parallelisms and chiasmus and very precisely composed (see his ‘Biblical Style in early insular Latin’ in Sources of Anglo-Saxon Culture⁷, eds. P. E. Szarmach and V. D. Oggins, Kalamazoo 1986, pp. 127–47). There seems no doubt that Cuthbert learnt this skill from Bede himself, who practised it in the History⁸ (ii. 13 and iv. 24). This translation owes much to this article, based on the Bamberg MS Staats-bibliothek A. I.47, the most accurate transcript of the Continental recension; but for this edition it has not been possible to reproduce all the nuances of the biblical style.

To his most beloved fellow-teacher in Christ Cuthwin, Cuthbert his fellow-disciple wishes eternal salvation in God.⁹

The little present which you sent me I received with much gratitude, and with much pleasure I read your devoutly learned letter; from these I found out what I specially desired to know, that you are lovingly offering masses and fervent prayers for our father and master Bede, beloved of God.

Therefore, through love of him rather than through confidence in my own ability, I am delighted to tell you in these few words how he passed from this world, since I understand that this is what you desired, this is what you requested.

He was indeed troubled by illness and especially frequent breathlessness, yet he was almost without pain before the day of the Lord’s Resurrection, that is for almost two weeks; after Easter he continued in the same state, cheerful and joyful, and giving thanks to Almighty God every day and every night and indeed every hour until the day of the Lord’s Ascension, which was the 26th of May.¹⁰

Every day he gave lessons to us, his students; for the rest of the day he was busy singing the psalms as best he could. He would spend the whole night in prayer and thanksgiving to God unless a short sleep prevented him. When he woke again, he immediately meditated on the accustomed chants from Scripture, not forgetting to give thanks to God with hands outstretched.

In all truth I can say that I never saw nor heard any other man so diligent in giving thanks to the living God. ‘O truly blessed man.’ He often sang the sentence of St Paul the Apostle, saying: ‘It is a fearful thing to fall into the hands of the living God’ as well as many other words of Scripture, with which he admonished us from the slumber of the soul by thinking in good time about our last hours.¹¹ And in our own language (as he knew our poems well) he would say:

Before that enforced journey no one becomes

Wiser in thought than he may need be,

For considering before his going hence

What for his spirit of good or evil

After his death day might be judged.¹²

He would also sing antiphons for our consolation and his, of which this is one:

O king of glory, lord of Might,

Who rose today in victory above all the heavens,

Do not leave us orphans,

But send us the Father’s promised Spirit of Truth,

Alleluia.¹³

When he came to the words ‘Do not leave us orphans’, he burst into tears and wept copiously. After an hour he would repeat what he had left unfinished and thus he continued the whole day. And when we heard this, we shared his sorrow and wept; we wept and cried in turn; indeed we wept as we studied. In this kind of joy we passed Paschaltide until the same Ascension Day.

And he rejoiced exceedingly and gave God thanks because he had deserved to suffer in this way, and he would often say: ‘God chastises every son whom he receives’ as well as the words of Ambrose: ‘I have not lived in such a way that I am ashamed to continue life among you, but I do not fear to die, because we have a uniquely good God.’

In these days, besides our lessons and the chanting of psalms, he was much busied with two short works which are specially worthy of memory: the translation into our own language for the Church’s benefit of the Gospel of St John from the beginning until the passage where it says: ‘But what are these among so many?’,¹⁴ and also certain excerpts from the Book of Cycles by Bishop Isidore, about which he said: ‘I do not wish my students to read lies, or to work at this task in vain after my death.’*

When the Tuesday before the Lord’s Ascension came, his breathing became much worse and a small swelling appeared in his feet.

None the less he continued his teaching all that day and dictated cheerfully; among other things he said several times: ‘Learn quickly now, for I do not know how long I shall live, nor whether after a short time my Maker will take me.’ But he seemed to us to know very well when his end would come. And so he spent all that night awake in thanksgiving.

At daybreak on Wednesday he told us to finish the writing which we had begun. We did this until the third hour. From then onwards we processed with the relics of the saints, as the custom of that day required.[^15]

There was one of us with him who said: ‘Beloved master, there is still one chapter missing from the book you were dictating, but it seems to me difficult to ask you for more.’ But he answered: ‘It is easy. Take your pen and prepare it and write quickly.’ And this he did.

At the ninth hour he said to me: ‘I have a few treasures in my little box: pepper, handkerchiefs and incense.[^16] Run quickly and fetch the priests of our monastery to me, so that I can distribute to them these little gifts which God has given me.’ This I did with some trembling. When they came he spoke to them, urgently asking each of them to say masses and prayers for him with diligence; this they gladly promised.[^17] But they were all very sad and they all wept, especially because he had said that they would not see his face much longer in this world.

But they rejoiced about one thing he had said: ‘It is time, if it so please my Maker, that I should be released from the body and come now to Him who formed me from nothing when I did not exist. I have lived a long time and the Holy Judge has provided well for me during my whole life. The time of my release is near; indeed my soul longs to see Christ my king in all his beauty.’ This and many other admirable words he spoke in joy for our great profit until he came to his last day at vesper-time.

Then the boy of whom I spoke, Wilbur by name, said again: ‘Beloved master, there is still one sentence left, not yet written down.’ He answered: ‘Write it then.’ After a short time the boy said: ‘Now it is written.’ And he replied: ‘Good. It is finished. You have spoken the truth. Take my head in your hands, for it pleases me very much to sit opposite my holy place where I used to pray, so that as I sit there I may call upon my Father.’ And thus, on the floor of his cell singing: ‘Glory be to the Father and to the Son and to the Holy Spirit’ and the rest, he breathed out his spirit from his body. And it should be believed without doubt that, because he had always worked hard in the praise of God, his soul was carried by angels to the joy of Heaven which he desired. All who heard or saw the death of our blessed father Bede said that they had never seen anyone else end his days with such great devotion and peace. For as you have heard, as long as his soul remained in his body he sang: ‘Glory be to the Father’ and other words to the glory of God and with hands outstretched did not cease to give thanks to God.

I would like you to know also that much more could be spoken or written about him, but now my ignorant tongue cuts short my words. Nevertheless I intend with God’s help to write more fully later what I myself have seen and heard about him.

Here ends the letter of Cuthbert on the death of the venerable Bede, the priest.