And, on King Oswald's victory over the pagan Catlon, Adamnan writes: "I shall give one example of especial honour conferred by Almighty God on this honourable man [Columba], the event having occurred the day before the Saxon prince Oswald went forth to fight with Catlon [Ceadualla of Bede], a very valiant king of the Britons."

According to Adamnan, the night before the battle King Oswald had set camp and was already asleep when St. Columba came to him in a dream, "beaming with angelic brightness, and of figure so majestic that his head seemed to touch the clouds." Columba, in essence, told Oswald that the battle was his for the taking, and that he should confidently march the following night to claim his victory. He assured the Saxon King that, upon conclusion, his reign would be long and prosperous.

The King awoke immediately and consulted his lieutenants, who enthusiastically embraced the idea and spread the word to encourage all. "And so the whole people promised that, after their return from the war, they would believe and be baptized, for up to that time all the Saxon land had been wrapt in the darkness of paganism and ignorance, with the exception of King Oswald and the twelve men who had been baptized with him during his exile among the Scots." 

Needless to say, the rival king, Catlon, was killed and his army dispersed, and "on his return after the battle, [Oswald] was ever after established by God as the Bretwalda of all Britain. I, Adamnan, had this narrative from the lips of my predecessor, the Abbot Failbe, who solemnly declared that he had himself heard King Oswald relating this same vision to Segine the abbot."

Though known primarily for his role in establishing the monastic community of Iona and those in Ireland, it is also important to remember that Columba was an energetic doer, and was a busy man in the field of conversion-in fact, Columba is, as far as I can determine, solely responsible for the conversion from paganism to Christianity of the tribal Picts of today's Scotland (Britain's ferocious aboriginal tribe, well known to the Romans). He also continually pursued, and encouraged, scholarship, learning, and, of course, the never-ending copying.

Columba died peacefully on his now-famous island of Hy (Iona), June 9, 597. By all accounts he had had premonitions of his death, but continued to copy texts-the last, in this case, Psalm 33. That evening Columba awoke with the other monks for midnight prayer, but hurried into the church ahead of them, where he was found praying at the alter, near death. Adamnan says that when all the monks were finally assembled, Columba blessed them "with a countenance full of wonderful joy and gladness" and expired before the alter. "Meanwhile," say Adamnan, "the whole church resounded with loud lamentations of grief."

Columba's achievement was substantial. Perhaps his finest work was his example. The years following his death would see streams, then rivers, of missionaries headed east, plunging into the dark barbaric continent to convert, and teach, and to establish hundreds of monasteries in his spirit. And in doing so they brought with them his view that civilization was not to be squandered, nor allowed to wither away; they brought literacy, curiosity, teaching, translation, and incessant copying.

In one of history's great jokes, the literary and intellectual tradition of the Roman world would be protected and disseminated under the patronage of a people without Roman tradition. Columba guided the movement with magnanimity, kindness, intelligence, and perseverance; and his  influence was monumental in consequence. It is apparent just how sweeping it was, and is, by the fact that, coming from a land and age overflowing with pious and industrious Irish ecclesiastics, he is revered and admired above all others (with the possible exception of Saint Patrick). 

But let us allow Abbot Adamnan the final word. He relates the story of St. Finten, who had always dreamed of visiting and meeting St.Columba: "Burning with that desire, he went to an old friend, the most prudent and venerable cleric in his country, who was called in the Scotic [Irish] tongue Columb Crag, to get some sound advice from him."

"When he had laid open his mind to him, he received the following answer: 'As thy devout wish is, I feel, inspired by God, who can presume to say that thou shouldest not cross the sea to St. Columba?'"

"At the same moment two monks of St. Columba happened to arrive, and when they were asked about their journey, they replied: 'We have lately come across from Britain, and to-day we have come from the Oakwood of Calgach'" [Daire Calgaich, or Derry, or Londonderry]. "'Is he well,' says Columb Crag, 'your holy father Columba?'"

"Then they burst into tears, and answered with great sorrow, 'Our patron is indeed well, for a few days ago he departed to Christ.'" "Hearing this, Finten and Columb [Crag], and all who were there present, fell on their faces on the ground, and wept bitterly."

And over the months many more would do the same, as the news slowly made its way through the isolated glens, over the dark bogs of peat and the damp, green hills, even across the seas, its carriers tenaciously determined to honor the Abbot whose life had been dedicated to the preservation of civilization and to his most keenly felt love of God.

Luckily for the west, Christianity would assume the responsibilities of the fallen monolithic state as the primary civilizing influence for centuries to come. It was already well established with doctrine, structure, and leadership, and its followers were numerous and devout. Two years after the barbarian Vandals sacked St. Augustine's Hippo (in North Africa), the amazing figure of St. Patrick unexpectedly turned up in Ireland (432)...