Sister Death

IN JUNE 1231, Anthony and two companions traveled to the Franciscan settlement on Count Tiso’s estate in Camposampiero. In this small refuge, the Paduan saint hoped to find peace, solitude, and the opportunity to regain his strength. He discovered an isolated retreat in the nearby woods, an ideal setting for contemplation and rest. Though his health had been declining for some time, Anthony may not have fully realized that death was near. A closer reading of the reports suggests that he believed this was merely a temporary pause, a moment of respite before new tasks and challenges would inevitably arise.

Unexpected crisis

What we know is recorded in the Assidua, though, as is often the case, the account appears to embellish the true events. It is important to recognize that descriptions of Anthony’s final days, his funeral, and even his canonization were never intended as strict historical records, but rather as texts for liturgical reflection. Those who witnessed and later recounted these events were shaped by their own time, culture, and perspectives, possibly interpreting things differently than we might today. The turmoil that erupted over St. Francis’ burial has already shown how legends and emotions could influence such narratives.

Now, let us return to Friday, June 13, 1231. For weeks, Anthony had spent his time beneath the walnut tree, relishing the quiet and finding solace in nature. That day, nothing suggested the imminent crisis. Around midday, the bells of the settlement rang, summoning the friars to their meal. Anthony rose to join them, but found himself struggling – his breathing was labored, and every step felt like an effort. Upon reaching the friary, he sat at the table, only to collapse moments later. His face turned ashen, his head slumped onto his chest. The friars, seeing his distress, rushed to his aid, but there was little they could do.

With no access to physicians, no ambulance, and no medical interventions available, the friars stood helplessly by his side. Aware of his dire condition, Anthony made one final request: to be taken immediately to the friary at Santa Maria Mater Domini in Padua, next to which the current Basilica of Saint Anthony would later be built. This was the friary Anthony considered home, and the place where he had probably written a large part of his sermons. Moreover, the city of Padua already hosted a prestigious school of medicine, which would later, around the year 1250, be incorporated into the University of Padua, an institution that had been founded in 1222. Perhaps Anthony clung to the hope that better care awaited him there, or perhaps he wished to spare the small Camposampiero community from the burden of his declining health. The friars likely hesitated – twelve miles on an open cart under the scorching midday sun, with the oppressive humidity of northern Italy, was an arduous and dangerous journey. Yet, despite their reservations, they honored his last wish, holding onto the hope that he might still recover with the proper care in Padua.

Harrowing journey

Shortly after midday, an ox and cart were quickly secured, and a small procession set off for Padua. Anthony, still gravely ill, lay on a simple straw bed, accompanied by a few friars along the old Roman road – now known as “The Saint’s Road.”

What was the journey like? The scorching sun beat down, the road was dusty and uneven – a torturous ordeal for someone in Anthony’s condition. How was he feeling? Could he still speak to his companions? Did he sense that death was near? Was he distressed, knowing he lacked the strength and time to prepare for his final meeting with “Sister Death”?

Anthony and his companions never reached Padua. It is unclear how long they traveled – perhaps six or seven hours – but as darkness fell, they were still far from Santa Maria Mater Domini. The town walls were only just coming into view as they neared Arcella, then a small village on the city’s outskirts. Meanwhile, Anthony’s condition had worsened throughout the journey rather than improved.

Intense anguish

Arcella was home to a convent of Poor Clares and a small friary. As Anthony and his companions arrived, a friar, noticing Anthony’s dire condition, urged them to stop for the night.

It seemed a sensible suggestion, and historical accounts confirm that Anthony agreed – at least he was still able to communicate and respond. However, some scholars believe there may have been other, less ‘holy’ reasons for the decision. If Anthony were to die in Arcella, the fate of his body could become a matter of dispute. This theory is not as far-fetched as it may seem; one only needs to recall the chaos in Assisi a few years earlier over the burial of St. Francis. Events in Padua in the following days would further fuel these suspicions.

Despite showing “signs of intense anguish,” as the Assidua records, Anthony agreed to halt the journey. The reason for his unease is uncertain, but the thought of being lifted from the uncomfortable cart and finally resting on a proper bed must have been a welcome relief.

Abyss of light

During wakeful moments, Anthony asked for the Sacrament of Reconciliation. He knew that his life had been blemished by mistakes and sins, and that he was a normal person who wanted to make the most of his remaining hours so that he might meet his Maker well-prepared. His fellow friars had by now gathered around his bed and were reading Psalms, as was appropriate for the hour of death. Anthony’s world was fading away. His last moments were marked by semi-conscious dreams, which caused important visions and stories of great piety to be attributed to Anthony on his deathbed. On the evening of June 13, 1231, death imperceptibly entered this small cell where the friars had gathered. “Sister Death” would take Anthony’s hand and lead him to the God to whom he had dedicated his life. Anthony himself seemed more relaxed and at ease; he was breathing more slowly, and his exhausted face had taken on a new glow; then his breathing stopped.

This is how the Assidua portrays his final moments, “Having extended his hands and then joined his palms, he sang the penitential psalms with the friars until he completed them to the end. He still held up for almost half an hour. Then, that most holy soul, freed from the prison of his flesh, was absorbed into the abyss of light.”

The news of Anthony’s death was not kept quiet for long. The streets of Arcella and Padua were soon ringing to the voices of children who ran about crying. “The Saint is dead!” Their message was not only a sign of the initiation of a period of mourning, but also marked the beginning of a battle for his body.