ST. IVAN'S FUNERAL.
An interesting conversation was held in Freston Tower that evening
between the three persons who wanted nothing to cement their
affections, since love reigned in their hearts. Extraordinary
circumstances had unexpectedly given birth to the warmest feelings
for each other. Interested in the deepest sense had each become.
Perhaps that of Ellen De Freston was the greatest, because she felt
so much both for her father and Latimer. Again they rejoiced in
being seated in their happy retreat, with their souls full of
thought, as they surveyed the waves of that river which appeared by
the setting sun more beautiful than ever.
'I must go with the sound of the matin bell, and ask John of
Alneshborne to grant me leave to bury the body of Ivan De Linton
within the precincts of the chapel,' said De Freston. 'I shall have
a mournful duty, but I hope a satisfactory one, in committing to the
ground the body of a man, who, with all his eccentricities, was a
pure philanthropist. Our priesthood will grant no place of burial to
an heretic; and from all I hear, St. Ivan was looked upon by them as
something worse than a heretic, and only worthy of the burial of a
dog. I must propitiate the priests of St. Peter on the morrow, and
get through the preparations as well as I can. In the meantime,
Latimer, I request your stay at my castle: at least until this
funeral be over.'
Latimer had left Oxford with the full intention of being in Padua as
soon as wind and weather would permit. Little did he think, when
asking his friend Wolsey to give him permission to convey some love
token to Ellen De Freston, on his account, that he should be made to
feel that he himself had inspired an interest which he could not fail
to appreciate. He had no compunctions in regard to Wolsey, for he
had received no commission to declare his sentiments, and had no idea
of their engagement to the lovely Ellen, for whom now, he could not
fail to feel the most animating and grateful interest. In a few
days, Latimer found more occasion to concentrate his affections upon
the fair object that had excited them.
That evening passed away with many reflections of thankfulness, and
on the morrow Lord De Freston ordered his barge, and visited the
fraternity at Alneshborne Priory. All that he requested was
immediately granted by that truly learned body. The night was fixed
upon for the solemn funeral to take place, and De Freston made a vow,
more in accordance with the superstition of his age than with true
wisdom, to keep watch in the chapel of the priory, and to speak to no
one, to answer no one, and to be moved by none, until the priory bell
should give the sound of morning prayer.
His next care was to visit the monks of St. Peter's, and obtain their
permission to let the body of St. Ivan lay in state within their
walls. He had some difficulty in this, and it was only by promising
to pay a handsome sum for watching the body, and for prayers against
sorcerers, that he could prevail upon that bigotted body to grant him
his request. The next thing was to look for the hermit. Bishop
Goldwell had sanctioned the Mayor's search for various articles of
value, and had given permission to remove the body of St. Ivan.
Lord De Freston and his men were the first to pass over the moat in
boats to search the ruins, whilst hundreds collected on the banks to
see the removal of the body, which was found erect, against the very
pillar upon which he had leaned when he died. A cross-beam had
fallen against the top of the pillar so as to form a shield over him.
A mass of rubbish, of brick-work, broken tiles, glass, and furniture
had to be removed before the corpse could be taken out There was a
placid serenity, even in death, upon the face his form was stiff, and
the silvery locks fluttered over his features as they moved him
through the ruins.
His bearers were awe-struck with the downfall of that princely
palace; and, not quite satisfied in their own minds that some of the
standing portions of the building might not fall upon their heads,
they made what haste they could to Lord De Freston's boat.
Curiosity excited some to pass over the broken walls; and a desire to
possess relics of Wykes' Bishop's Palace instigated others. The
occasional slip of some congregated mass terrified the pilferers and
made them hasten from danger.
When the corpse of St. Ivan was removed to the boat, the Mayor gave
orders that none but authorised workmen should be permitted to pass
the bounds of the moat, and that a clerk should give an exact account
of the articles found for the use of the Town Clerk and the Bishop's
Secretary.
De Freston's care was now to convey the body to St. Peter's Priory,
there to have it lay in state until all things should be ordered for
the funeral.
It was not without great bribes that it was admitted within the
precincts of the Priory, but the monks were not insensible to the
costly gifts of De Freston, and of Edmund Daundy; nor insensible to
the use that might be made among the common people of the fame of St.
Ivan. He was, therefore, admitted, embalmed with all due ceremony,
and candles were dedicated to the altar for St. Ivan. Priests had to
pray for his soul's release from purgatory. A solemn requiem was
sung in the chapel, and during the six days' rest in the Priory
costly dedications were made to the shrine of St. Peter, at the
expense of the nobleman and his friends, who were only anxious that
decent respect should be paid to his memory.
How different are the customs of different periods relative to the
burial of the dead; how different, likewise, in different countries!
That decency should be observed, every Christian will freely
acknowledge and where society is formed upon true principles of
piety, all these things will be done with propriety; but it is better
to have the prayers of the poor destitute than to build the most
splendid mausoleum in the world. The heart of one good man is of
more real value than the whole fabric of St. Peter's at Rome.
Lord De Freston was not ashamed to show to the world that he
considered the old man worthy of the customary Christian burial
which, at that time, was bestowed upon the nobles of the land. Hence
his preparations were made upon a corresponding scale.
The seventh evening was appointed for the funeral. It was agreed
that he should be buried by torchlight at the Priory of Augustine
Monks, beneath the shrine of St. Peter, at the altar of Alneshborne
Chapel. Lord Ivan De Wykes, as the family were originally called
when the estates were conveyed to the See of Norwich, had great
possessions in Dorsetshire and Cambridgeshire, as well as in Essex
and Suffolk; but retaining only certain estates at Linton and
Ipswich, the name of Wykes was dropped and Ivan De Linton
substituted. These things were known to De Freston when the old man
first spoke to him concerning his titles and family. It might be on
this account as well that he chose to pay him every mark of outward
respect. He had learnt something of Ivan's private history in
conversation with him, and found that much of his eccentricity arose
from a disappointment of the heart in early life.
The long procession of boats with torches was collected at the quay
of St. Peter's Priory. There were twelve belonging to the Mayor and
burgesses; four to the Prior of St. Peter's; Daundy's, Sparrow's, and
Wolsey's barge, and others among the common people who chose to
accompany the procession with muffled oars, five miles down the
river, to the vale of Alneshborne. At midnight, the procession,
headed by De Freston's boat, with himself and his friend Latimer,
started at the sound of the solemn bells, which, from the various
religious houses, gave forth their mournful note. They were all
muffled. Torches were seen in the towers; and along the river side
the glare of one hundred and sixty torches upon the waters showed a
long array of mourning pomp. The body lay exalted on a large
flat-bottomed boat, and was towed by the sailors, who were appointed
to bear the coffin from its deck. They were seated in another boat,
belonging to the Priory. Four portmen, ten burgesses, and a numerous
company of priests and choristers brought up the procession. Their
lengthened notes came swelling over the waters as they chanted the
requiem of the departed.
It was a dark night, the waters were gloomy, the banks of the river
seemed in mourning, the clouds looked as if they were gathering to
weep, and save the wild note of the curlew as the torch-light
disturbed her upon the ooze, one mile down the river, all was
profoundly mournful.
De Freston's men were well acquainted with the river, and as the
lights from the town began to grow dim, and the sound of the tolling
bells distant, and their oars were muffled, a solemn stillness made a
feeling of awe creep over their frames, as they thought of the hermit
whom they were escorting to his last cave. As they passed the long
hanging wood which bent to the waters, then termed Long Island, since
corrupted into Hog Island, the startled cormorants rose in succession
from their roosting-places, and filled the air with their hoarse
chaunt. Darker and darker grew the banks, and still darker spread
the clouds above, as the train swept slowly along. The distant
turrets of Alneshborne Priory became visible, and soon after torches
were seen to glare upon the waters' edge; and the fraternity of monks
were visible awaiting the arrival of the funeral.
As the boats approached the sandy strand against the creek of
Alneshborne, the whole brotherhood assembled to receive the monks of
St. Peter's and Lord De Freston; and along the shore a solemn chaunt
arose from the choristers as the men eased down the coffin of St.
Ivan from the deck of the barge.
Chaunt.
Holy brethren, we are come
Here to bring St. Ivan home;
Take him, take him, holy men,
As St. Peter's denizen.
Alma Mater!
Sancte Pater!
En et ecce! Ecce en!
Holy brethren! now we mourn,
Hear us, monks of Alneshborne!
Take St. Ivan, take him then,
For St. Peter's denizen.
Alma Mater!
Sancte Pater!
En et ecce! Ecce en!
Holy brethren! pity take,
For the Great St. Peter's sake;
Lay St. Ivan in your glen,
As St. Peter's denizen.
Alma Mater!
Sancte Pater!
En et ecce! Ecce en!
The venerable brethren received Lord De Freston and the mourners with
due solemnity, and made the following response to the chaunt of St.
Peter's priests.
The Response.
Welcome, welcome, to our shrine,
Here St. Ivan may recline;
Bring him onward, on his way,
Holy friars of orders gray.
Ora! ora!
Sine Morâ!
For St. Ivan, brothers, pray.
Here the saint shall taste repose,
Here the tomb shall o'er him close.
Whilst we sing his resting lay,
Holy friar of orders gray!
Ora! ora!
Sine Morâ!
For St. Ivan we will pray.
Welcome he who comes in peace,
Here his honours shall not cease;
We will chaunt them night and day,
Bear him, brothers, on his way.
Ora! ora!
Sine Morâ!
Thus we chaunt St. Ivan's lay.
The procession was then formed, headed by the monks of the place, and
by the whole body of the fraternity of St. Peter's. Then came the
bier, on each side of which walked six burgesses, Lord De Freston
following as chief mourner. Then Latimer, and the various friends,
townsmen, and acquaintances, who, as much out of respect for the
living Lord De Freston as for the dead St. Ivan, attended the costly
funeral. There was Robert Wulsey, as it was then written. He was an
old man, and certainly would have been much better at rest in his own
house in St. Nicholas, than braving the midnight air to gratify his
friend, De Freston. So grateful did he feel to him for the interest
he had taken in his son Thomas, that as soon as Daundy mentioned the
subject to him, and told him that it would be a compliment which De
Freston would feel, he actually resolved, let the cost be what it
might, to attend the funeral of St. Ivan. The cost, as the sequel
will prove, was as much an any man could pay.
The corpse was borne to the chapel, which then stood beyond the walls
of the Priory, in a small secluded glen, near the bright stream which
flowed into the moat, and thence down to the waves of the Orwell.
The torches illumined the glen, and when they all entered the little
chapel, a person outside might have supposed that the building was on
fire, so glaring was the accumulated light of so many torches. In
front of the altar was the family vault of De Freston. Amidst the
chaunts of the assembled priests, the body was lowered into the
vault, the ceremony was concluded, and De Freston alone, with only
the candles burning upon the altar, was left to watch, according to
his vow, till the morning matin-bell should permit him to open the
chapel door.
It may seem singular that a person like Lord De Freston should submit
to such unnecessary devotion, but he had made a vow to do it himself,
and he was not a man to turn aside from any purpose he had once
resolved to put in practice. It was in vain that the elder brother
of the monastery offered himself to exonerate him from his vow, and
to supply his place. He was determined: consequently the whole body
of attendants had to leave him in the chapel. He charged Latimer to
return to the castle, and not to think of coming over the waters
again until the morning-bell should be heard from the Tower of
Alneshborne Priory. The mourners, therefore, retraced their way, the
burgesses and townsmen up the waves of the Orwell, and the last to
leave his friend was William Latimer, who promised to return at the
time appointed. Taking leave of the friendly Augustines, he ordered
his rowers to unmuffle their oars and make the best of their way
across the tide. A light was to burn all night in the fifth story of
Freston Tower. The mourners separated, and their torches were seen
quickly ascending the waves of the Orwell, and Lord De Freston was
alone in the chapel of Alneshborne.