CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 8
EOSTERWINE took over the monastery in the ninth year of its foundation and remained in charge until his death four years later.3 In the world he was a nobleman by birth but, unlike some, he did not let his high rank turn to arrogance and contempt for others but used it, as befits a servant of God, as a stepping-stone to greater nobility of soul. Eosterwine was Benedict’s cousin and they were both so high-minded that they thought nothing of worldly honour – so much so that when Eosterwine entered the monastery it never occurred to him to use his birth or his relationship to the abbot to his own advantage; nor was he shown the slightest favour by Benedict. Realizing that monastic profession put him and his brethren on an equal footing, this young man resolved that his only pride should lie in striving to keep the monastic rule in every detail. When he had turned his back once and for all on the life of the world and had ceased to be King Egfrid’s thane by laying down his arms and girding himself for spiritual warfare, he kept himself so humble and identified himself so completely with his brethren that he took a positive delight in sharing their ordinary work. He took his share of the winnowing and threshing, the milking of the ewes and the cows; he laboured in bakehouse, garden and kitchen, taking part cheerfully and obediently in every monastery chore.1 He was no different when he attained to the rank and authority of abbot, as the wise man says in Ecclesiasticus, ‘If thou be made the master, lift not thyself up but be among them as one of the rest: – that is: gentle, affable and kind to all.’2 When necessary he would correct wrong-doers according to the letter of the Rule but he much preferred to follow his normal affectionate bent and diligently admonish them by word of mouth, so that no one would think of sinning, for then their abbot’s bright smile would be clouded over by anxiety on their behalf. Often as he went about on monastery business, he would come across the brethren at work and would quickly go and help them out in whatever they were doing, putting his hand to the plough along the furrow, hammering iron into shape or wielding the winnowing-fan. He was a young man of marked physical strength and gentle in speech; he was of a cheerful disposition, liberally generous and distinguished looking. He ate the same food as the rest of the monks and always ate in the same building with them, and he slept in the common dormitory as he did before he became abbot. Even when he was severely ill and had received clear signs that death was near, he still spent two more days in the monks’ dormitory. The remaining five days up to the hour of his death were spent in a more secluded place. On his last day he came out for a while and sat down in the open air. He summoned all the brethren and with the compassion that was second nature to him gave them each the kiss of peace while they wept and lamented the passing of so good a father and shepherd. He died during the night of 7 March as the monks were singing matins. He entered the monastery at twenty-four and lived there twelve years, seven of them as a priest and four as abbot. And so ‘leaving his earthly frame and mortal limbs’3 he sought the kingdom of Heaven.