Tutilo was a capital companion; genial and ingenious; capable of music on all sorts of pipes and fiddles; who told a good story and made many a good joke; active and agile in his figure, and withal a fine carver, painter, and goldsmith. Some of his ivory carving still exists in the town library of St. Gall—so one historian records in a foot-note—and he was evidently a most skilful musician, whose hymn tunes, composed on the rota, or small harp (the minstrel’s instrument in those days), were always acceptable. He wrote Hodie cantandus, Omnium virtutum gemmis, and Viri Galilaei. This last he sent to “King Charles,” who himself composed a tune to which Tutilo set words called Quoniam Dominus. His royal patron liked him well. “Curse the man,” he said one day, “he is altogether too good a fellow to be a monk!” Ekkehard adds to this list of compositions the sequence Gaudete et cantate as a specimen of Tutilo’s ability in a slightly different direction of music, declaring that “any one who understands music” will notice and appreciate the distinction.
Hartmann was abbot after Salomon; a most learned man, and one who perhaps contributed more to the development of the “sequence” than we are now able to prove.
Of Notker it is only fair to say that he gave to himself the name Balbus, or Stammerer, which was changed, owing apparently to his small stature, into the diminutive, Balbulus. When Innocent III. asked Uadalric, then Abbot of St. Gall, what rank Notker had held in the convent, the abbot replied that he was only “a simple monk,” but was born of noble parents and was thoroughly holy and well educated. On which the Pope declared that they were wretched and wicked people (nequissimi), and would suffer for it (infelices eritis) if they did not celebrate the festival of this man who had been “so full of the Holy Spirit.” Julius II. commanded Hugo, Bishop of Constance, to inquire into the matter. The result established him as a beatified confessor, and so distinguished him by the prefix “Blessed” from Notker “the Abbot,” who was his nephew, and died 973; Notker “the Physician,” who died 1033; Notker “of Liege,” who died 1007, and Notker “Labeo,” who died 1022. B. Notker Balbulus himself died in 912. Salomon, who was then his abbot, died in 919, and in 921 Hartmann succeeded to the dignity.
It would not be difficult to add to this account several superstitious stories; how Notker broke his staff over a dog-devil which went howling through the church; how he had some difficulty with another demon who intermeddled with pen and ink; how he severely handled a flagitious monk; and, generally, how he proved to be a moderate worker of miracles and a pleasant colleague to the other cenobites.
But we turn with a peculiar interest to that little sequence which has made his name immortal. This Media vita in morte sumus is the one which meets us in the Burial Service of the Protestant Episcopal Church:
“In the midst of life we are in death:
Of whom may we seek for succor
But of thee, O Lord,
Who for our sins art justly displeased?”
It is there found in connection with a passage from the Book of Job, and is followed by the Sancte Deus; Sancte fortis; Sancte et misericors Salvator, Amarae morti ne tradas nos; which is in our translation, “Yet, O Lord most holy, O Lord most mighty, O holy and most merciful Saviour, deliver us not into the bitter pains of eternal death.” All that Notker originally composed is that which is first mentioned above. The rest came about as we shall presently see.