The foundations of the chapel of St. Dunstan at the west end of the Lady Chapel had been brought to light, and were evidently of mixed date—the original probably very early.
Q. by F.B.B. "Who built St. Dunstan's Chapel?"
"Edgarus ybuilded long syne. Radulphus hoc opus restoravit. After hym ye fyre yburned yt. Then he was a capella in muro.[35]
"They say we hadde not hys bonen, but they lie, for we hadde the leg-bones of hym, and certain smalle bones which they took to Canterbury, and Johannes knoweth it of old tyme long syne. They did open the tombe and tooke them backe. What mean they who said we hadde them not? They all knew it, and the pilgrimmes did come from Canterbury by ye old horse-way to venerate them.
"Roof yfallen! Hee of the gatehouse dwelt therein, and it wasne Capella—vae mihi! Went! Ye King commanded! Because we all who should obey were meek. And soe it was not.
"JOHANNES DE GLASTON."
SITTING XLIX. 29th July, 1911.
This little fragment came quite spontaneously and without anything to lead up to it.
"At night the sound of many waters refreshed ye parched soil. From tower and from the high roofes the sound came like the sound of waterfloods, and the gargoyles shouted each to each, and the cloisters whispered comfort and refreshment as we lay under the dormer roofe in parched and sultry nights.
"I who speak mind me of the glory of sound even now, and I ever loved the waters and the mere, and the voices that whispered around me. Therefore went I a-fishing on the mere, and the glories of nature were yet more glorious than the Te Deums in choro. Therefore loved I the rain on our hundred roofs, and the myriad voices that came from the waterspouts.
"I didde sleepe on the south side, hard by the great gabell, and soe heard I the sound whilst others slept. Vai mihi, that it is departed! and the voices are heard no more."
SITTING L. 30th July, 1911.
Although neither of us was aware of the fact, this sitting was destined to be the last of the series. Except for a few occasions in 1912, it proved impossible to continue these experiments. But Sitting XLIX. ends with a message of farewell, and so, it will be seen, does the last of the series. And in some respects the substance of the writing is a sort of review of the part played by Johannes, and offers an explanation of the related influences which is full of interesting suggestion.
"Simple he was, but as a dog loveth his master, so loved he his Howse with a greater love than any of them that planned and builded it. They were of the earth—planners and builders for their great glory, nor ever, though honest men, for the glory of God. But Johannes, mystified and bewildered by its beauty, gave it his heart, as one gives his heart to a beloved mistress; and so, being earthbound by that love, his spirit clings in dreams to the vanished vision which his spirit-eyes even still see.
"Even as of old he wandered by the mere and saw the sunset shining on her far-off towers, and now in dreams the earth-love part of him strives to picture the vanished glories, and led by the masonry of love, he knows that ye also love what he has loved, and so he strives to give you glimpses of his dreams.
"Simple child of Nature—loving her, he knew not why; but loving her yet more deeply because he knew not why he loved. He was not meant to be a priest of the choire, and it harassed him sometimes overmuch. Child of Nature! He loved freedom, and was happier in the orchard, and by the mere, than performing the rituals of the choir.
"Men loved him for his love, but ofttimes his Prior comprehended not, and mistaking the outward show in which he failed, for lack of that inner worship which they could not feel, they made him do penances for which their backs were more fitted. Then ye should know who would understand him aright, and read his inner meaning.
"He would tell you what he saw, but how can he describe it? It was beautiful, and his soul rejoiced as he would have you also rejoice, but he could not tell you why. It was good. It was pleasing to the eye, and through the eye his soul was uplifted, in an age when souls were grovelling.
"It was lovely, and he knew it, but when ye ask, 'What was it like unto?' he cannot tell you. It was heavenly—so was the sunset—and the shadows on the mere—but he could not paint these nor reproduce them for you.
"Those others, the great add simple, are passed and gone to other fields, and they remember not save when the love of Johannes compels their mind to some memory before forgotten.
"Then through his soul do they dimly speak, and Johannes, who understands not, is the link that binds you to them.
"Learn and understand.
"WE WHO ARE THE WATCHERS.
"Farewell."
SITTING LI. (First of new series.) 26th January, 1912.
No previous questions asked.