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The Charmed Life of a Genius Priest

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Fr. Ignatius Perera

Ignatius of Colombo

By Avishka Mario Senewiratne
avishkamario@gmail.com

Talent, passion and humility are virtues hard to emulate and seldom found are those who are blessed with all three. Fr. Ignatius Perera of revered memory, was one such individual born on this palm-fringed island. Some remember him as the Radio Priest. Some recall his prowess in training choirs as well as his concerts. But those who were truly touched by his generosity were those without hope when they dropped out of school not knowing what to do next. He clothed and fed them as well as educated them, giving them the life they deserved. When he suddenly passed away in January 1981, The Catholic Messenger said the following:

“The fascinating personality of Fr. Ignatius should be the subject of serious study by those concerned with the training of pastors…Born into a family of musicians, and schooled in the classics, Fr. Ignatius became an engineer by option, because he had a knack for it, and saw the need for it.”

Whether the life of Fr. Ignatius was studied is doubtful, but his memory has not faded from the minds of those who were inspired by his life and work. Born on October 30, 1915, in the coastal township of Periyamulla, in Negombo, dubbed ‘Little Rome’, Alphonsus Narcissus Ignatius Perera was born to a family of musicians. His father was Louis Perera and his mother, Egistina Catherine Fernando. His elder brother, Francis would be a priest as well as a Choral Director. While receiving his early education at St. Mary’s College, Negombo, young Ignatius received the calling to be a priest. His brother’s influence may also have had something to do with his decision.

The superiors of young Ignatius, such as the seminary Rector, Fr. Edmund Pieris OMI, communicated his brilliant academic record as well as his prowess in music to Fr. Maurice Le Goc OMI, the Rector of St. Joseph’s College at that time. Fr. Le Goc was highly impressed and immediately recruited him to St. Joseph’s. Young Ignatius was known to invent all sorts of creative things in his early days. The scientist priest (now forgotten), Fr. Gregory Goonawardena, played a big role in Ignatius’ early days. Upon completing his school education, he received the opportunity to study in Rome for his priesthood. The subsequent years in Europe would be a roller-coaster ride for the young man as war intervened in his formation as a priest. However, the delay entering the priesthood was one of the best things that would happen for Fr. Ignatius.

The colourful days in Rome

The young seminarian was an outstanding student and well-read in the classics. He mastered several Western languages and spoke fluent Italian. Apart from his theological and philosophical studies, Ignatius read for an Honour’s Degree in Classics. Soon after, he got to experiment with two other skills he had not developed in Ceylon. It is unusual that a person could balance sacred music and radio.

Yet, this was the niche Ignatius Pera filled along with his passion for classics. It was through sheer hard work and self-study that he mastered electronics. He truly had a knack for it and doing repairs along with other work brought him great satisfaction in the then Fascist-ruled Italy. However, there were periods where he spent too much time on radios and less on classics flunking some of his exams! The young seminarian’s skills became well-known in the days to come.

On one occasion just 10 minutes before a transmission was to begin, the Vatican Radio broke down. During this time Giulio Marconi, son of Guglielmo Marconi, who was in charge of Vatican Radio rang young Ignatius to come and help. Within no time, the transmission was active and the radio worked as if new. It is also said that Ignatius was called multiple times by a priest called Fr. Giovanni Montini for repair work. This priest would later be Pope Paul VI.

Another interesting anecdote on Fr. Ignatius was when he was in charge of the BTH Super 35mm Arc projector in the auditorium of Propaganda College. He found an ingenious way of modifying the projector motor feed. Thanks to Ignatius, those at Propaganda had the good fortune of watching 35mm feature films, a facility which many others did not enjoy then. He was assisted in the projection room by a German priest and the future Rector of SJC and SPC, Fr. Mervyn Weerakkody.

While Ignatius was running the projector one day, he had to urgently run to the washroom. That day there were no assistants. Unexpectedly, a fire broke out in the projection cubicle, damaging both the films and the projector. However, Ignatius’ magical hands were able to rewind the burnt transformer and repair the projector.

One day the Vatican grounds were full of aero-buffs who had come to fly their model planes. Ignatius found a way of hacking the frequencies of these model aircraft and directed the planes as he wished taking control of the flying machines from their hapless controllers on the ground. There certainly was pandemonium in the Vatican on that eventful day!

After his formation ended, he amassed a lot of free time. This he utilized usefully by learning Sacred Music at the Academy of St. Cecelia. Again, through basic teaching and self-study, he also mastered this field. Ignatius surprised all by sitting for the Bachelor of Music Degree at the University of London. Here he succeeded with ease. In Rome, he received one of the rare privileges of conducting the Choir of the Sistine Chapel. With the fall of Benito Mussolini in 1943, Italy was liberated. However, World War II continued for two more years.

During these war-torn years, young Ignatius taught Classics to various groups. In the meantime, he ventured to do a Diploma from Faraday House (An electrical engineering College in the UK), to secure a recognized qualification in electronics. After a long period of gestation, Ignatius and his fellow seminarians were ordained in Rome on March 19, 1944. He was 27-years of age. A year later, Fr. Ignatius was called back to Ceylon and the Archbishop of Colombo, Msgr. Masson gave him his first appointment to serve his alma mater.

During this period, St. Joseph’s College had been taken over by the Royal Navy, and the staff and students were located in various parts of the Western Province. Fr. Ignatius was sent to the Borella branch of SJC. Here he had a guide in the person of Fr. Peter Pillai, the Rector. The two of them got along with another contemporary, Fr. Justin Perera. The College in Borella adjoining the Archbishop’s House was a temporary structure and was quite uncomfortable for the boys who had once been in Darley Road. Fr. Ignatius had a reputation that preceded him, for what he had achieved in Rome was beyond the ordinary. Thus, his future students expected a certain stature and strict personality in their teacher. What they saw was this simple priest, not taller than 5’4, riding a ladies bicycle to Borella, raising many eyebrows. One of his first students, Peter Perera now residing in UK, recalls his early memory of Fr. Ignatius as follows:

“He was an unassuming, simple down-to-earth character, affable, youthful, completely approachable almost like one of the students. There was none of the aloofness and authoritarian manner of the teachers we were accustomed to.”

Fr. Ignatius first started taking the Latin class, for this was his initial forte. His teaching was compelling and those who disliked the subject were attracted to it solely because of him. During the 45-minute period, only 15 minutes were spent on Latin declensions. The rest of the period was a discussion any other subject the students questioned him about and his extraordinary experiences in war-torn Europe. Despite this, his students were all successful in their exams for he knew the art of imparting knowledge and making students learn in their own way. Soon he was entrusted with the role of choir master of the almost defunct St. Cecilia’s Choir of SJC. Here is how the 1949 Blue and White magazine wrote about the coming of Fr. Ignatius to the choir:

“And then 1946 – our new birth, our new home with our new choirmaster. How am I to tell you of those first practices, those practices at which all sorts of strange fish turned up: fish that our little priest had to turn into singing fish? Many of those fish kept wondering what this man was doing to them. Was he trying to ruin them? Making them sing in parts – it may seem exaggerated but I’m sure there were boys – I among them – who did not catch on to the idea of singing while somebody near them seemed to prefer to sing his own composition. Having patiently got each group – Sopranos, Altos, Tenors and Basses – to learn their parts, he found the whole lot lustily singing Soprano! Poor little priest! But in the midst of apparent failure, the messiah had to triumph. In about three months we found ourselves, to our own surprise, actually singing in parts! And that in four parts too!”

Fr. Ignatius’ skill and experience in Rome came into good hands to revive the Josephian Choir. His methodical training and meaningful set of practices warranted success. Soon, the standards had risen to such a level that the students were able to sing over the National Service of Radio Ceylon. The feedback from the general public was overwhelming. The revived Josephian Choir would now go on to take part in the music competition hosted by the Western Music Section of the Department of Education, and ultimately win it.

The judge at this event was D’Hales of Trinity College of Music in London. He hailed the choir for their splendid performance and said they sang just as well as choirs in England. ‘Handel’s Requiem’ conducted by Fr. Ignatius and performed by the Josephians is considered the greatest of the musical performances the College hosted at that time. The Josephian Orchestra was established in the year 1947, consisting of 16 members (seven violinists, a bass player and a pianist). It was conducted by Fr. Ignatius Perera.

With World War II’s end, most British forces stationed in Ceylon left for their own country. Their vehicles, weapons, radios and other war equipment were put up for sale as the forces had little use for them any more. Fr. Ignatius bought a rifle, an army jeep, and some radios. Whenever he had time, he would drive his jeep to distant jungles. He took great pleasure in hunting birds and wild boar. On one of his jungle trips, he rescued a mongoose in Pottuvil and adopted it as his pet. The mongoose named ‘Tikka’ would be with Fr. Ignatius as he worked in his radio lab and at times he took Latin in the classroom. The mongoose and the priest became a feature of the College at that time.

At the request of his students, Fr. Ignatius started the Radio Lab of St. Joseph’s College in 1947. The students were very curious about radios, their working and repairs. Soon the membership would reach about 30 or so. Fr. Ignatius taught them the theory of radio and soon made arrangements to let them repair radio sets and make amplifiers. Fr. Peter Pillai trusted this initiative. Soon the Radio Lab made their own amplifier and fixed it to the sound system of the Bonjean Hall. With unprecedented donations and sponsorship, Fr. Ignatius’ lab was well-equipped with state-of-the-art technology. No school or lab elsewhere was able to match its standard.

Fr. Ignatius Perera installed a private Intercom telephone system with 24 connections, linking various offices and buildings in St. Joseph’s College. The standards maintained at the Radio Club were extremely high, and the services it rendered outside school were stupendous. The Radio Club installed amplifiers that were manufactured at the College Lab in some of the popular churches on the island, such as St. Mary’s Church, Bambalapitiya, All Saints’ Church, Borella, Our Lady of Mount Carmel Cathedral, Chilaw and St. Mary’s Church, Negombo. A large amplifier system of 180 Watt output was built for the church and camp of St. Anne’s Shrine, Talawila. A giant 27,000 Watts transformer for a three-phase electricity supply was also built under the guidance of Fr. Ignatius.

For all his work in the lab, Fr. Ignatius had his very own golaya in the person of Aloysius, a young man who was starving on the streets with little hope for the future. Fr. Ignatius employed him and they developed a lifelong friendship. Ignatius and Aloysius were workaholics who slept less and mostly on the table of the lab. The ‘equipment hospital’ was a mess, strewn with damaged radios, clocks, refrigerators, toys, and gramophones. However, whatever was brought to the lab, was restored by Fr. Ignatius. This is how Noel Crusz, a good friend of Ignatius illustrated the latter:

“Ignatius smoked ‘Peacock’ cigarettes butt to butt. His fingers were brown with nicotine. He had his tot of double-distilled Mendis special. He was generous to a fault, especially to those seeking advice on equipment, electronics, music or the classics.”

Fr. Ignatius as stated above was a brilliant teacher in whatever he taught. However, with all these talents what made him special and loved by all was his zeal for the Almighty and care for the needy. His devotion to the downtrodden made him a veritable angel to those who had once lost hope in life. Fr. Ignatius was a simple man who had a unique sense of humour. He was childlike and lovable. Such traits are not common in modern society. Chaplain Raja Pereira, a student of Fr. Ignatius relates an important story on the latter:

“One day, during class Father wrote on the board this equation: V = I x R and asked ‘What is this, son?”. I was still fresh with our B1 class’s Physics teacher Eric Mendis’ electricity lectures and so I soon put up my hand and said ‘Ohm’s Law, Father’. Fr. Ignatius responded ‘No sonna boy, this was God’s Law which Ohm happened to discover’. It was from here that we learnt that one should put what God said at all times ahead of what man says.”

In the early 1950s, Fr. Ignatius started the famous Catholic Choral Society consisting of young men and women from various parts of Colombo. Ruth Van Gramberg, my good friend living in Melbourne, wrote to me recently relating her experience in those memorable days of the Choral Society. She mentioned that the maestro regularly trained them and received many opportunities to perform at Radio Ceylon. She recalled how Fr. Perera would be invited to perform in public functions with the choir. Once the choir had performed for Premier Sir John Kotelawala at his Kandawala home.

On many occasions Fr. Ignatius paired with the like-minded media-friendly Fr. Noel Crusz. They partnered in several plays where Fr. Crusz wrote the screenplay and Fr. Ignatius directed the music. Those performances were attended by hundreds and sometimes in thousands. In 1956, the sound editing for the feature film Little Bike Lost, directed by Fr. Noel Crusz was done by Fr. Ignatius and his students in the radio lab.

One of the greatest supporters of Fr. Perera was Mrs. Edith (J.L.M.) Fernando of Pegasus Reef Hotel fame. She, through her son Lalin had come to know him quite well and lobbied those in the Church to aid his good work. Edith Fernando had convinced Fr. Peter Pillai to recommend Fr. Ignatius for a USIS Scholarship in the USA. This move paid off and Fr. Ignatius was able to travel to USA and Europe for his studies in 1960. One area he extensively studied was the new development in electromagnetism. Upon his return, Fr. Ignatius had plans to start a new radio lab.

Archbishop Thomas Cooray supported this ideal wholeheartedly and made plans to form the lab in Kotahena, near the Cathedral. In 1962, after donations had been received from many of his friends, students, and especially the Philips Electric Company, the Radio Lab was ready. It was blessed and opened by the Archbishop. This multi-story building was to make men and not records. Fr. Perera was very keen on recruiting school dropouts who did not have any hope in academics. Vocational studies such as electronics became a useful option.

Despite his high level of intelligence and ability to do multiple things, Fr. Ignatius Perera, was a simple, down-to-earth presbyter. His devotion to the poor and downtrodden was well known. It was customary for him to help anyone for nothing in return. On one occasion, when Fr. Justin Perera was admitted to a public ward at the General Hospital, he noticed that a child in critical condition was being put on an iron lung (a mechanical ventilator) which failed and those in the hospital were unable to fix it. While the child’s life was ebbing away, Fr. Justin called Fr. Ignatius for help. It was 10 in the night and Ignatius was as usual up and working in the lab. When answering the phone Ignatius said, “Justin, I have never seen an Iron Lung in all my life”. Fr. Justin countered saying, “That does not matter one bit. You just come along”.

Within a few minutes, Fr. Ignatius was on the scene and in a few moments fixed the failed Iron Lung with just a little strip of bamboo! Such was his interest in those in distress and his divine ability to repair appliances considered unfix-able. Fr. Justin in his writings discusses while he was editor of the Ceylon Catholic Messenger, one of the printing machines of the Colombo Catholic Press had failed when an important publication was being printed. Again, Fr. Ignatius did the impossible, though printing machines were not part of his expertise. On another occasion, when a large foreign ship was docked in the Colombo Port, its radios failed. The government of Ceylon trusted none but this genius priest, who once again did the needful with relative ease. Stories of Fr. Ignatius can go on and on. This is what makes him legendary.

Towards the end of his life, Fr. Ignatius’ sight failed and he became a recluse. However, only a year before his death, he received a Doctorate from MIT (Massachusetts Institute of Technology) with no Bachelor’s or Master’s Degree. Such was his recognition.

Fr. Ignatius Perera passed away from a heart attack in his room in the Kotahena Lab premises on January 1981 aged 66. Many from various parts of the island came to pay their final respects to this much-loved and talented priest. President J.R. Jayewardene granted special permission to inter his remains on the premises of the Lab. Today a statue has been erected in his memory and yeoman contribution to the country. Whence cometh another?



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Combining local resources,traditional knowledge and science to build a food-secure Sri Lanka

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World Food Day 2026: Innovating today for a better food future

by Dr. Kaushalya Wijayasekara

What will be on the Sri Lankan dinner table ten years from now? Will our children be able to get nutritious food at a price their families can afford? Will farmers be able to grow enough despite changing weather and rising costs? And how much of the food we produce will actually reach the consumer, instead of being lost or wasted along the way?

These questions can’t wait. A farmer faces unpredictable weather. A family faces rising food costs. Fruit goes unsold after a good harvest. Some children do not get enough nutrition. The future of food is tied to the future of Sri Lanka itself.

World Food Day 2026 is a chance to look beyond the immediate problems and ask whether we can build a food system that feeds our people well, gives farmers better opportunities, protects the environment and makes better use of what we already have. The answer can be yes, but we will have to think differently.

We are not starting from zero. Sri Lanka has diverse crops, fisheries, traditional food knowledge, indigenous varieties, research institutions, universities and a young generation able to create new solutions. What we need is to bring these together and act. Producing more will not secure our food future on its own. It will depend on how intelligently we produce, process, preserve, distribute and consume food.

Making more of what we already have

Innovation does not always mean inventing something new. Often it means finding better uses for the resources we have.

Sri Lanka grows traditional rice varieties, kurakkan, green gram, cowpea, jackfruit, breadfruit, cassava, sweet potato, coconut and palmyrah. All of them have great potential for modern, nutritious, value-added foods. Jackfruit and breadfruit can be made into flour and other convenient products. Traditional rice varieties can go into new foods that suit changing consumer needs. Palmyrah, with its strong cultural heritage, can create new income through better processing, packaging, quality assurance and market development.

The aim is to connect our traditional food knowledge with modern consumer needs and technology, while keeping our food heritage.

Stop wasting the food we produce

Reducing food loss and waste should be a major priority. Seasonal fruits such as mango, banana, papaya and pineapple can be lost in large quantities when production exceeds demand or when storage, transport and processing facilities are inadequate. With suitable technology, these fruits can become dried products, pulps, powders, beverages and other shelf-stable foods.

Agricultural and fisheries by-products are resources too. They could be turned into food ingredients, animal feed, bio-based products and other useful materials, which would move us toward a more circular food economy.

Technology alone is not enough. We need stronger local processing facilities, cold storage, efficient transport, collection centres and market information systems, especially close to where food is produced. Cutting food loss raises the value of what our farmers and fishers already produce.

Nutrition and food safety come first

Food security means more than having enough food. People also need food that is safe and nutritious.

Sri Lanka can develop affordable, nutritious foods from local pulses, grains, vegetables, fruits and fish. Children and other vulnerable groups should get particular attention. Schoolchildren in particular deserve a focus: safe, nutritious, locally sourced products for school feeding programs would support child nutrition, local farmers and domestic food industries at the same time.

Food safety must stay at the centre of food innovation. Good hygiene, quality control, laboratory testing, traceability and appropriate food safety systems are what make new products safe as well as attractive and nutritious.

A food system that can cope with climate change

Climate change is already affecting agricultural production, water availability, crop yields and food prices. We need food systems that can handle changing conditions. That means climate-resilient crops, efficient water use, soil and water conservation, better storage and resource-efficient food processing.

Traditional knowledge matters here. Generations of Sri Lankan farmers have developed practices suited to local climates and ecosystems. Combining that experience with modern science can give us solutions that fit local conditions and are sustainable. Technology alone will not build the future of food. Science, experience and local knowledge together can.

Give young people a bigger role

Sri Lanka’s universities have an important part to play in shaping our food future. Young people should be encouraged to identify real problems in the food system and work on practical solutions in areas such as food waste, sustainable packaging, nutrition, food safety, modernising traditional foods and digital technologies.

A good research project should not always end as a research paper. Where appropriate, research should be supported to move on to products, technologies, enterprises and community solutions. That needs stronger partnerships between universities and industry, along with mentoring, research funding, business support and market connections. If young researchers and entrepreneurs can turn their ideas into viable food innovations, both consumers and producers will benefit.

A pathway designed for Sri Lanka

We do not need to copy food-system models from other countries. We can build a pathway that suits our own resources, culture and needs. It would bring together local resources, traditional knowledge, scientific research, appropriate technology and entrepreneurship, with farmers, fishers, universities, research institutions, food industries, entrepreneurs and policymakers working side by side.

The goal goes beyond selling raw materials. We need to create more value, reduce waste, improve nutrition, generate jobs and strengthen rural livelihoods. This matters especially for small and medium-scale food enterprises, which can drive local economic development when they get the right technical, financial and market support.

The choices we make today

The food future will not create itself. It will be shaped by what we grow, what we research, what we process, what we consume and what we choose not to waste.

So, the question for World Food Day 2026 is this: what can we do today so that every Sri Lankan has safe, nutritious, affordable and sustainable food tomorrow?

The answers are already around us, in our farms, fisheries, food businesses, universities, laboratories and communities. We have the resources, the traditional knowledge, the scientific expertise and talented young people. What we need now is to connect them and act.

A better food future begins with the choices we make today.

Dr. Kaushalya Wijayasekara

Senior Lecturer, Department of Biosystems Technology, Faculty of Technology, University of Ruhuna

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20th Anniversary of Digampathana blast – the day Sri Lanka Navy cried

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Aftermath of the terror attack

By Admiral Ravindra C Wijegunaratne
WV, RWP and Bar, RSP, VSV, USP, NI (M) (Pakistan), ndc, psn, Bsc
(Hons) (War Studies) (Karachi) MPhil (Madras)
Former Navy Commander and Former Chief of Defence Staff
Former Chairman, Trincomalee Petroleum Terminals Ltd
Former Managing Director Ceylon Petroleum Corporation
Former High Commissioner to Pakistan

The Digampathana suicide truck attack on 16th October 2006 remains the deadliest single strike in Sri Lanka Navy history, leaving scars that time cannot erase.

It was a seemingly ordinary Monday morning on 16 October 2006, but the calm of that day would soon be shattered in a way none of us could have imagined. As the Commandant of the Naval and Maritime Academy and Flag Officer Commanding Naval Fleet at Trincomalee, I was aware that a number of my cadets were travelling that morning, part of a convoy of fifteen buses carrying naval personnel from Trincomalee, Colombo, and other bases, heading toward Dambulla to rendezvous with another group. The convoy also included trucks and escort vehicles, a routine movement planned and coordinated with the army to ensure the roads were clear. The morning started quietly. Some personnel greeted friends, handed over their weapons, or strolled to a nearby tea shop. It all seemed so ordinary—too ordinary for what would come next.

Sri Lanka Navy sunk LTTE Ships carrying arms, ammunition and warlike materials thousand miles away from Sri Lanka in Indian Ocean in September and October 2007.

By late morning, both convoys had reached the small ground at Digampathana, near the Sigiriya junction, and personnel mingled briefly, unaware that a carefully orchestrated act of terror was waiting. Then, suddenly, an empty half-truck veered directly into the convoy. It exploded with a ferocity I can still recall as if it were yesterday. Nuts, bolts, and high explosives tore through the air. Pandemonium erupted instantly. I later learned that 107 of our naval personnel were killed on the spot and another 153 critically injured. The scene was indescribable—bodies scattered, vehicles mangled, personal effects strewn across the ground. I remember later hearing that the head of the suicide bomber was recovered more than 100 meters away from the blast, a grim testament to the sheer force of the explosion.

I was in my office at the Naval and Maritime Academy when my mobile phone rang. A young midshipman from the 21st intake called, his voice trembling: “Sir, there was a huge explosion at the convoy point! Many are dead … my batch mate Wijesundara is among them.” I immediately jumped into my jeep with my escort Chief Petty Officer and driver and rushed to Digampathana, relying on every ounce of my driving skill to reach the scene. The journey, which usually took little more than an hour, felt endless that day, each passing mile weighed down by dread.

When I arrived, I was confronted with a sight that no training can prepare you for. The injured were being rushed to Dambulla Hospital, where doctors and nurses worked tirelessly, improvising in ways that saved lives despite the overwhelming chaos. I went back to the site after visiting the hospital. The remains of our naval personnel were scattered across the ground, and someone had begun collecting weapons and protective gear. I immediately contacted Surgeon Rear Admiral Nico Jayasekara and received his instructions: collect all body parts in separate bags and transport them to the Trincomalee Naval Hospital mortuary. This gruesome work had to be done with care and dignity, and it filled the icebox in my vehicle. Through DNA testing initiated by Rear Admiral Nico, we were able to identify every naval personnel lost that day, bringing some closure to grieving families.

The Navy Commander at the time, Vice Admiral Wasantha Karannagoda, was devastated. I had worked closely with him and knew how deeply he cared for his men. He ensured that the fallen were honoured with full ceremonial naval funerals at Welisara Naval Base, attended by families and comrades. Sixty-seven funerals were conducted in a single day—a number that still haunts me.

The Digampathana attack remains the largest single loss of naval life in our history. It was a day of sorrow, but also a day that reinforced our resolve. The tragedy galvanized the Navy to target the LTTE Sea Tiger wing with renewed determination and reshaped our maritime operations forever. Every time I think of that day, I remember not just the lives lost, but the courage, professionalism, and dedication of those who survived, those who treated the injured, and those who ensured the fallen were honored properly. May the souls of our naval hero’s rest in peace, their sacrifice guiding us and inspiring generations of naval personnel to come.

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‘Murder at Whitby Abbey’

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Tales of Mystery and Suspense – 24

I was intrigued by the title of a book I found in a book drop at the condominium of a friend, Murder at Whitby Abbey, and I brought it home with me though I will not be able to return it in the near future. It was described on the cover page as ‘a standout in the crowded medieval mystery field’, though I fear I do not know of other books in this field, apart from the Cadfael series, which I have dealt with earlier.

The book, by Cassandra Clark, is set during the reign of Richard II and has as a backdrop his precarious position, which led to his being replaced, and murdered, by his cousin Henry, who reigned as Henry IV. It is a gloomy book, the action taking place in the twelve days of Christmas leading up to the Epiphany. And the gloom is pervasive, even though this is supposed to be a time of festivity, with mummers performing, and many of those in the guest house where the heroine stays going to town to enjoy themselves, with much drinking and much music, which also fills the guesthouse.

The heroine Hildegarde is a nun, sent to try to acquire a relic being sold by Whitby Abbey, though this was also a penance set by the Abbot of the monastery that governed her abbess because she had had sex with a man. Soon after she and her companions reach the Abbey set high on a cliff, she finds that there are other bidders, and soon suspects that the hierarchy, not perhaps the Abbot who seems a weakling, but his rapacious bursar, is determined to make money, and not above creating false relics to sell to several aspirants.

After Hildegarde and her Cistercian companions – Whitby is a Benedictine Foundation – two monks, Gregory and Egbert, and a young priest Mark, reach the abbey, they find that Aelwyn, a monk they had met on their way to the guesthouse had died. This was in the apple store, and they realize, when they find the surplices of novices stuffed into the air vents, that he had been left to suffocate in the overwhelming scent of apples.

Clark

The Cistercians are asked to look into the death, perhaps because they are likely to get no cooperation from the Abbey folk, but perhaps because those in charge are keen to know what happened. And the infirmarer, an old monk, suggests Hildegarde talk to a man called Edred who worked for the bursar, and had been a friend of Aelwyn’s. But Edred too is killed, before he can keep an appointment he had made with Hildegarde, drowned in a pool near the farmhouse of the Abbey.

Meanwhile tensions arise between the fisherfolk and the abbey for the bursar wants to charge them for using the beach that technically belongs to the abbey to dry their fish and their nets. This leads to physical battles, when the guards used by the abbey, under the command it seems of the bursar whose determination to make money is not resisted by the abbot and the prior, try to storm the area where the fishermen live.

Hildegard finds out more about what had happened through two youngsters, one of whom Torold is the son of Aelwyn by a woman who worked as a prostitute for a cartel, and with whom Mark fell in love. The other works on the farm and had seen Edred meet someone near the pool, after which that someone left the place by himself. And the boy had also found in the pool a sort of dagger with the seal of the abbey.

He and his dog, and Torold who follows her, rescue Hildegarde from a man at arms who has waylaid her and tries to rape her earlier. Escaping into the abbey she was nearly been raped then by the bursar, but she managed to escape, in the process setting fire to him and the muniments room, which led, when he was rescued, to the discovery of a box with the money he said had been stolen, blame being cast on both Aelwyn and Edred.

Matters come to a head when the fisherfolk try to storm the abbey, being resisted by the men at arms stationed on the towers. But then Hildegarde realizes that behind the murders was the bursar’s clerk, whom she pursued to the cathedral. There is great drama then as she escapes from him when he tries to kill her, and then from the man at arms who had tried to both rape and kill her, but they both fall from the scaffolding she had climbed, the latter coming from a tower where he had been stationed.

Both of them think they run the rapacity of the abbey, the latter claiming to work for the nobles opposed to Richard, who is presented throughout the book as devoted to his subjects, not to power or money. But though the villains die, the bursar continues, having got over the hysteria the fire had caused and his acknowledgment then of guilt – and though the abbot and the prior seem less vicious, whether they will be able to assert themselves is questionable.

Before the climax, when the others in the guesthouse were leaving, Hildegarde found that two of them were in possession of the relic, for which they seem to have paid well. Hildegarde herself had made a derisory offer, but before she leaves the abbot gives her the relic, perhaps in gratitude for what she and her fellow Cistercians had discovered, the abbey having made as much money as it needed and more from the gullible other buyers.

Mark’s inamorata is saved from the stews because she moves in with Edred’s widow whom the bursar had thrown out of the rooms he occupied when her husband was found dead. Hildegarde had paid for lodgings, in a house run by the man who ran the brothels, but he had a kindly side and was going to finance them to make nets for the fishermen.

So, the Cistercians set off for their home as swiftly as they can to get there on the day of the Epiphany, having stopped en route to pray for King Richard whose birthday it was.

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