British Museum, Jan. 1852. Sir,—The late discovery of the remains of a human body in a complete state of preservation, in St. Stephen's Chapel, has induced me to send you a brief notice of several similar occurrences recorded by our early chroniclers and historians. Bede relates that eleven years after the death of St. Cuthbert, bishop of Lindisfarne, the monks took up his body, expecting to see it reduced to ashes, but found, "all the body whole, as if it had been alive, and the joints pliable more like one asleep than a dead person; besides all the vestments the body had on were wonderful for their freshness and glossness." We learn from William of Malmesbury that the body was again found incorrupt 415 years afterwards at Durham, and publicly shewn. Lingard gives an interesting account of the event, taken "from a memoir written at the time by an eye-witness," in all probability Simeon, the Durham historian. From this narrative it appears that when the monks removed the masonry of the tomb, "they beheld a large and ponderous chest, which had been entirely covered with leather, and strongly secured with nails and plates of iron. To separate the top from the sides required their utmost exertion, and within it they discovered a second chest, of dimensions more proportionate to the human body. It was of black oak, carved with figures of animals and flowers, and wrapped in a coarse linen cloth, which had previously been dipped in melted wax, to exclude the air and damp." By the direction of Turgot, the prior, "they conveyed the smaller chest from behind the altar to a more convenient place, in the middle of the choir, unrolled the cloth, and with trembling hands forced open the lid. Instead of the remains of the Saint, they found a copy of the Gospels lying on a second lid, which had not been fastened with nails, but rested on three transverse bars of wood. By the help of two iron rings, fixed at the extremities, it was easily removed, and disclosed the body apparently entire, lying on its right side, on a pallet of silk. At the sight they gazed on each other in silent astonishment, and then retiring a few paces, fell prostrate on the floor, and repeated, in a low tone, the seven penitential psalms. After this preparation, they approached the coffin, and three of them, by order of the prior, placing their hands under the head, the feet, and the middle of the body, raised it up, and laid it on a carpet spread on the floor. It was found to have been wrapped in a cerecloth of linen. Over this appeared the usual episcopal vestments, the amice, alb, stole, fanon tunic and dalmatic;—the chasuble alone was wanting, which had been removed at the former translation in 689. On the forehead lay a thin plate of gold, or metal gilt, thickly encrusted with small stones; and a mitre covered the head, round which had been wound a napkin of purple colour. A cerecloth of the finest linen adhered so closely to the face, that no part of it could be loosened, but between the neck and the shoulders the skin was exposed to the sight and touch. The arms could be moved with ease; the hands were joined over the lower part of the chest, and the fingers, which were still flexible, pointed upwards. With the body were found a chalice, patine, a portable altar, a burse to hold the linen for the altar, and an ivory comb, with scissors of silver." When the shrine of St. Cuthbert was plundered and demolished by order of that sacrilegious scoundrel King Harry the Eighth, the body was still found entire, as Harpsfield testifies. Audry, a daughter of Annas, King of the East Angles, and abbess of Ely Monastery, died A.D. 679, and was buried in a wooden coffin. Sixteen years afterwards her sister caused her body to be exhumed. It was found "free from corruption, and all the linen cloths in which the body had been wrapped appeared entire, and as fresh as if they had been that very day wrapped about her limbs." Such are the words of the physician who attended her in her last illness, and who saw the occurrence. (Bede, B. 4. c. 19). Wereburge, a daughter of Wulfere, king of Mercia, died about the close of the seventh century. Her body, according to her own desire, was interred at Hanbury. Nine years afterwards, in 708, it was taken up in presence of King CÖelred, his Council, and many bishops, and being found entire and incorrupt, was laid in a costly shrine. In 875 her body was still entire; when, for fear of the Danish pirates, it was removed to Chester, and soon after its translation, fell into decay. St. Elphege, Archbishop of Canterbury, was barbarously murdered by the Danes in 1012, and buried in St. Paul's Cathedral. Twelve years after his martyrdom, When King Edmund was cruelly slain by the Danes in 870, his head was carried by the infidels into a wood, and thrown into a brake of bushes; but being afterwards discovered, it was deposited with the royal remains at Hoxon, which were soon afterwards conveyed to Bury St. Edmunds, and there honourably interred. Fifty-seven years rolled on, when his body was taken up by order of the good Bishop of London; on which occasion, says the author of Britannia Sancta, "his body, to the admiration of all, was not only found entire, and without any blemish of corruption, much more like to one lying in a sweet sleep than one dead; but also his wounds were found all closed up, and his head united to the rest of his body, only a slender mark remaining like a red thread around the neck, testifying their former separation." Yours, truly, A Bookworm. |