Sometimes a national event becomes a moment to note that nothing is fixed forever. The recent ten days of state mourning and a state funeral is one such example.
Visit any local parish church and you can see how the great and the good have been memorialised in stone or glass to be remembered to the end of time! Naturally, as with most aspects of human society the expression of commemoration is subject to the form of the times and the ability to pay for the memorial. The fine and elaborate tomb of Sir Robert Drury and his wife, Lady Anne, reflects the status they enjoyed whilst alive and the elite memorial fashion of the early sixteenth century.
By the time of the eighteenth century more and more middle class professionals and their families were worthy enough and had means enough to be publicly remembered and were able to afford wall monuments.
But if we revisit the medieval period we find memorials which are less a decorous celebration of a life, but more a prompt to the onlooker to consider their own mortality. One expression of this sentiment is the Transi or Cadaver Tomb. There are over 40 medieval cadaver tombs extant in England and Wales and one of these is for John Baret (d.1467) and it can be found in St Mary’s Church, Bury St Edmunds. Baret was a wealthy cloth merchant and a gentleman of the household of the Abbot of Bury St Edmunds who had his memorial constructed in 1463, four years before his death.
This particular cadaver tomb is unusual as traditionally the tomb had a clothed human effigy on the top of the tomb, and the naked emaciated corpse below. Baret reversed the convention and had his single-carved, three-quarter sized, naked corpse on the top with his miniature, clothed version below on one side of the tomb in bas-relief.
Baret also had these words carved near his effigy’s head, “He that wil sadly beholde one with his ie, May se hys owyn merowr and lerne for to die“. (‘He that will sadly behold me with his eye, may see his own morrow and learn for to die’.)
These days it appears we have travelled a long way from the clear-eyed almost brutal memorials of the medieval dead to a time where youth is lauded to such an extent there is almost a denial that death exists at all. If there’s one positive to be taken from the ten days of national mourning, it is that it provided an opportunity for ordinary people to discuss their own experiences of loss and bereavement more openly.
20 thoughts on “The delicately refined and the brutally honest”
Wise words, Agnes
Wonderful photographs and a fascinating text to go with them, thank you very much.
Bit on the gloomy side though, but without patrons and commissions such as these where would Art History be especially for the medieval period.
I’d not come across cadaver tombs before. Not a bad lesson to learn. Judging by recent outpourings of grief, it looks as though many hoped the queen was immortal.
In totally disbelief I saw on Twitter that Charles Moore in ‘The Spectator’ had posed the question “Should Queen Elizabeth II be made a saint?” I kid you not and I did check that it wasn’t a parody account. Words fail me.
It truly is isn’t it.
Saint Elizabeth of The Handshake?
Ha ha ha, very good. That’s made me laugh out loud.
There are no words …
I remember doing brass rubbings in the day, and going to some church in Northampton where the husband and wife of interest were in the stone, behind the altar, under the carpet. Amazing to think these were real people, with real lives, who existed so many centuries ago. All across your great nation effigies such as you feature above are dotted everywhere. Absolutely mind-boggling.
Yes, mind-boggling indeed. However, I find myself thinking whether in the far future or maybe not so far future, a few of these carved stones will be ‘discovered’ like we now discover a rare dinosaur. And, without context what will they even mean?
As you can see I don’t think much of humans at the moment, not least our appalling new PM and Chancellor.
It kind of ran past me quickly as I had so much on and was keeping my head down about all the royal news.
But I did manage to catch the black dress your new PM kept trotting out. Interesting choice for someone who claims to be the new Margaret Thatcher or did I hear that wrong?
She may claim to be a new Thatcher, but it will only be in her dreams. I think there’s something not quite right about an adult woman, particularly a politician, dressing up for photoshoots in an embarrassing attempt to emulate her dear, deceased leader.