BTS16O: Beneath the Sheets, The Midnight Funeral. Original Artwork

Original Artwork Ink and watercolour wash with mixed media overlay.

Original Artworks derived from the discovered journal of Professor Matthias Jeremiah Braithwaite. He Dedicated his works and studies to the investigation into the unusual, the unnatural and the uncanny.

White mount with black inlay. Mounted Colour image area 31 x 22cm approx

From the journal:

Dear Diary,

“I am in conversation with Officer Thwaites, a sensible fellow, much respected by his police colleagues for his level headedness. The man before me is not at all at ease, but pale and discombobulated. Putting a pint of best before him to calm his nerves, I ask him to recount his experiences regarding the night of the twelfth. Upon this direction, a certain degree of professionalism comes over the officer and he regains a little of his composure.

“It was late, very late, around midnight and I was making my normal patrol heading towards Parliament Street via Whip-ma-whop-ma-gate. There’s not a lot of folk about at that time of night, especially on a Tuesday, so it’s my favourite time to work. I could hear music, distant at first, hard to discern or identify.” He tells of his further investigations in and around the area to and how he came the conclusion that the sound was coming from the Parish Hall of St Crux. A diligent investigator, he described his search at some length and at last came to the main focus of my interest, the hall, recently rebuilt from the stones of the ancient Church of St Crux. “I could hear the sound of funereal music and indeed I believed it to be coming from the parish hall. This was not the sound of late night revelry you understand, but sombre church music played upon the organ. I wondered who would play music at such a late hour, in breach of the peace.”It was at this point Officer Thwaites began to lose his composure and took a rather large gulp of his drink. His already pale appearance became ghostly white and he developed a distant look as though seeing things afar.

“I tried the door you see, it is the big door saved from the old church, which appeared to be locked as it wouldn’t budge an inch. I had a job to do so I looked around the building to see if there was another way in. Finding no access, I returned to the main doors ready to give them a good pounding but as I raised my fist ready to knock, both sides began to move together, as though being opened by a person on either side.

Being weighty ancient wooden doors they take a bit of moving, but there was no one to be seen. The music was still playing but softer and I could hear the mumbles of singing a soft and gentle hymn, but not a soul did I see. I took a few steps into the porch and beyond the open inner doors the hall was empty.” Looking at me strangely, almost imploringly, I understood he was describing something he thought unbelievable.

“I cannot explain it you see, I saw what I saw, and the boys at the station all think me a fool. You see it was dark in the hall and hard to see anything at all, then the moon came out from behind a cloud and shone upon the large stained glass window, creating a burst of light in the room. Candles and lanterns appeared everywhere, illuminating shrouded figures standing around a coffin on a bier. The figure in the coffin was sitting up and staring in my direction. As I backed away from the doorway, the singing stopped, as did the organ music and here was a reverend and a curate holding open the doors dressed all in ghostly white gesturing me inward, seemingly floating as I could perceive no legs. Taken by a strong sense of unease I turned to retreat, but in so doing my head bounced of the stone doorway sending my helmet crashing to the ground. I was off as fast as my legs would take me to the station in Silver Street. When I returned with Ron and Arthur just a few minutes later we found the building locked and secure and as quiet as the grave, with nothing but my helmet on the floor next to the doorway where I dropped it.”

Following this interview, I consulted the Reverend McAlester, who, having been disturbed at an ungodly hour by the officers hammering on the door of the clergy house, had gestured towards the large iron keys on a card table underneath a small candle stand. These were the sole keys to the church hall and had not left the vicarage all night.

This midnight funeral does indeed seem to have shaken Officer Thwaites and leaves me with more questions than answers and i will have to look further into this matter in the days to come."

Prof Matthias. J. Braithwaite

The Original Does NOT glow under Blacklight.