In the autobiographical notes of Mikhail Vasilyevich Chikhachev, the following amazing appearance of Bishop Ignatius to Alexandra Vasilievna Zhandr is recorded on the 20th day after his death, 1867, on May 19. This phenomenon has a profoundly edifying meaning in essence and is important for characterizing the views of contemporaries on the personality of the deceased saint.

"Heavy sorrow suppressed my whole being from the moment the news of Vladyka's death reached me. This sorrow was not inferior to prayer: the prayer itself was dissolved by sorrow, unbearable, bitter. Neither day nor night did the feeling of spiritual orphanhood leave my heart. Both soul and body were exhausted, to the point of illness. Thus the time passed until the 20th day after the death of Vladyka. On this day, I was preparing to commune of the Holy Mysteries in one of the Moscow convents. The feeling of sorrow was so strong that even during the Sacrament of Confession it did not leave me, nor did it leave me during the entire celebration of the Liturgy. But at the moment when the Lord vouchsafed me to receive the Holy Mysteries, suddenly a wondrous silence descended into my soul, and a living prayer in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ was felt in my heart. Just as suddenly, and incomprehensibly for me, the sorrow over the death of Vladyka disappeared. A few minutes passed, during which I moved a few steps away from the Holy Doors and, without leaving the solea at the direction of the abbess's mother, stood on the left kliros directly opposite the icon of the Dormition of the Mother of God. There was prayer in my heart, my thought froze in silence, and suddenly before my inner eyes, as if in my very heart, but directly opposite me, at the icon of the Dormition, near the bed on which the Queen of Heaven lies, there was depicted the face of the departed Hierarch of indescribable beauty, glory, and light! The light illuminated the entire face from above, especially concentrated at the top of the head. And inside me, again in my heart, but at the same time from the face, I heard a voice; a thought, a story, a ray of light were dropped; I felt the joy that permeated my entire being, and it conveyed to the inner man without words, but somehow miraculously, the following words of the saint: "You see how good you feel today. And for me, without comparison, it is always good, and therefore I should not grieve for me." I saw and heard this clearly and distinctly, as if I had been vouchsafed to see Vladyka and to hear from him what I needed by word of mouth. An unspeakable joy embraced my whole soul, and was reflected in a living imprint on my face so that those around me noticed. At the end of the liturgy, a pannikhida began to be served. And what a pannikhida it was! In the usual sad funeral hymns I heard a wondrous song of spiritual triumph, unutterable joy, bliss and endless life. It was the song of the churching of the warrior of Christ, who had once again passed from the earthly, militant Church to the Heavenly Church of the righteous triumphant in the unfading glory. It seemed to me that it was Christ's day, everything around me rejoiced with such a Feast, and a quiet prayer was created in my heart.

In the evening of the same day (May 19) I went to bed: there was no sleep. About midnight, in the complete silence of the night, from somewhere far away came to my ears the sounds of the wondrous harmony of a thousand voices. The sounds became closer and closer: the notes of church singing began to separate clearly, and finally the words began to sound distinctly... And this singing was so full of harmony that all attention, all life was involuntarily riveted to it... Thick basses hummed measuredly, like the ringing of all Moscow bells on Easter night. And this hum smoothly merged with the soft, velvet tenors, with the silver scattered violas, and the whole choir seemed to be one voice — there was so much harmony in it! And the words stood out more and more clearly. I heard distinctly: "The divinely inspired adornment of the bishops, glory and praise to the monastics." And at the same time, for me, by an inexplicable announcement, without words, but quite clearly and understandably, it was revealed to my inner being that with this singing Bishop Ignatius was greeted in the world of heavenly spirits. Involuntary fear seized me, and besides, it came to mind that Vladyka taught me not to listen to such visions and hearings, so as not to be subjected to delusion. I tried hard not to hear or listen, enclosing all my attention in the words of the Jesus Prayer, but the singing continued apart from me, so that the thought occurred to me if they were actually singing somewhere in the vicinity. I got out of bed, went to the window, opened it: everything was quiet, dawn was breaking in the east.

In the morning, waking up, to my surprise, I remembered not only the melody I had heard during the night, but also the words themselves. All day long, in spite of the many everyday occupations that had taken place, I was under an extraordinary impression of what I had heard. Fragmentary, inconsistent words were recalled, although their general connection escaped memory. In the evening I was at the vigil: it was Saturday, the eve of the Sunday of the sixth week of Pascha: they were singing the Paschal canon. But neither these hymns, nor the harmonious choir of the Chudov singers reminded me of what I had heard the day before: no comparison can be drawn between the two. Returning home, tired and tired, I went to bed. But there was no sleep again, and as soon as the noise of the city began to subside, about midnight, familiar sounds again touched my ears, only this time they were closer, clearer, and the words were etched into my memory with amazing consistency. Slowly and sonorously, the invisible choir sang: "Champion of Orthodoxy, O great worker and teacher of repentance and prayer, O divinely inspired adornment of the bishops, glory and praise to the monastics: Thou hast made us all chaste by thy writings. This time, despite the fact that I was intensely praying the Jesus Prayer, the singing did not distract my attention, and in some inexplicable way my heartfelt prayer merged into the general harmony of the hymn I heard, and my heart vividly felt and knew, that it was a solemn hymn, with which the celestials joyfully greeted the earthly and heavenly man, Bishop Ignatius, who had departed from earth to the heavenly. On the third night, from May 21 to May 22, the same thing repeated, with the same sensations. This threefold repetition confirmed the faith and left no confusion, imprinted in the memory both the words of the "troparion" and the melody to which it was sung, as if it were a long-familiar prayer. The melody was similar to the melody of the kontakions in akathists. Afterwards I was told that it was an octogenous voice, when I showed with my voice what I heard the melody."

People who knew her speak of Alexandra Vasilievna with deep respect, as a highly educated, deeply religious and impeccably truthful person. In view of this, the heavenly glorification of St. Ignatius, which is confirmed by her testimony, in addition to its general edifying meaning, evokes reflection on the laborious life of Vladyka Ignatius, his incessantly intense feat of perfection, and his infinitely pure and clear childlike faith in the land of promise, in the eternal joy of communion with God. And having become acquainted with the behavior of A. V. Zhandr, the reader involuntarily inclines in his soul to a sympathetic movement: according to your faith, let it be done to you, and may not your hope put you to shame, and St. Ignatius is really thought of as the heavenly forerunner of his disciples and venerators, praying to the Lord God to grant them repentance before the end.

No less important in its inner meaning is the miraculous dream about Bishop Ignatius, transmitted by Sophia Snessoreva to M. V. Chikhachev, which in time is adjacent to the nearest days after the death of the saint. The story of a dream by S. I. Snessoreva [1537] is presented in the following form. "On the last meeting with His Grace Ignatius, on September 13, 1866, he said goodbye to me: 'Sophia Ivanovna! To you, as a friend, as to myself, I say: prepare for death – it is near. Do not worry about worldly things: one thing is needed – the salvation of the soul! Force yourself to think about death, take care of eternity! On April 30, 1867 (the Sunday of the Myrrh-Bearers), Bishop Ignatius died in the Nicholas Babaevsky Monastery. I went to his burial, which took place on May 5. Inexpressible in words is the sad joy that I experienced at his grave. "On Saturday, August 12, 1867, I slept badly at night, and fell asleep in the morning. I saw Vladyka Ignatius come in monastic attire, full of blossoming youth, and looked at me with sadness and regret: "Think about death," he said. "Don't worry about earthly things!" All this is only a dream, earthly life is only a dream! Everything that I write in books is true! The time is near, purify yourselves with repentance, prepare for the end. No matter how long you live here, it's all one moment, just one dream." To my concern for my son, Vladyka said: "This is none of your business; his fate is in God's hands! But you take care of the transition into eternity." Seeing my indifference to death and filled with compassion for my infirmities, he began to beg me to turn to repentance and feel the fear of death: "You are blind, you see nothing, and therefore you are not afraid, but I will open your eyes and show you the torments of death." I began to die. Oh, what a horror! My body became alien and insignificant to me, as if it were not mine, my whole life "passed" into my forehead and eyes; My sight and mind saw what really is, and not what it seems to us in this life. This life is a dream, only a dream! All the blessings and deprivations of this life do not exist when the moment of awakening comes with death. There are no things, no friends, only boundless space, and all this space is filled with terrible beings, incomprehensible by our earthly blindness; The unclean swarm around us in various forms, surround and hold us. They also have a body, but it is thin, like some kind of slime, terrible! They climbed on me, clung to me, pulled my eyes, pulled my thoughts in different directions, did not allow me to catch my breath in order to prevent me from calling on God for help. I wanted to pray, I wanted to make the sign of the cross, I wanted to get rid of this torment with tears to God, to pronounce the name of Jesus Christ, to distance these terrible creatures from me, but I had neither the words nor the strength. And these terrible ones shouted at me that it was too late now, there was no prayer after death! My whole body was stiff, my head was motionless, only my eyes saw everything and my spirit felt everything in my brain. With the help of some supernatural force, I raised my hand a little, I did not bring it to my forehead, but in the air I made the sign of the cross, then the terrible ones crouched. I strove not with my lips and tongue, which did not belong to me, but with my spirit, to praise the name of the Lord Jesus Christ; then the terrible ones burned as if with a red-hot iron and shouted at me: "Do not dare to pronounce this Name, now it is too late!" The torment is indescribable! If only I could catch my breath for one minute! But my sight, mind, and breath endured unspeakable agony because these terrible horrors were clinging around and dragging them in different directions, so as not to give me the opportunity to pronounce the name of the Savior. Oh, what suffering this is! Again the voice of Vladyka Ignatius: "Pray unceasingly, everything that is written in my books is true. Give up earthly cares, only take care of your soul." And with these words he began to walk away from me through the air in a kind of steep manner, higher and higher above the ground. His appearance changed and passed into the light. A whole host of the same luminous beings joined him, and all of them seemed to be the steps of an inexplicable, inexpressible ladder. As he ascended, Vladyka became unearthly, like all those who joined him in various forms, receiving an inexpressibly beautiful, sun-like light. Looking at them and rising in spirit behind this endless strip of light, I no longer paid attention to the horrors that at that time were raging around me in order to attract my attention with new torments. The luminous hosts also had bodies, but they resembled wondrous, radiant rays, before which our sun is nothing.

These hosts were of various types and lights, and the higher the steps, the lighter. Bishop Ignatius rose higher and higher. But now he is surrounded by a host of radiant hierarchs, he himself has lost his earthly appearance and has become just as radiant. My eyesight did not reach this level higher. From this height, Vladyka Ignatius still cast a look at me, full of compassion. Suddenly, not remembering myself, I broke free from the power of the horrors that held me and cried out: "Give rest, O Lord, to the soul of Thy departed servant, the Most Reverend Ignatius, and by his holy prayers save and have mercy on me, a sinner!" I woke up in a violent shock.

I was never afraid of anything, and I was always willing to be alone in the house, but after this sleep I felt so terrified for several days that I could not bear the solitude. For many days I felt an extraordinary feeling in the middle of my forehead: not pain, but some special tension, as if all life had gathered in one place. During this dream, I learned that when my mind is fixed on the thought of God, on the name of Jesus Christ, the horrible creatures are instantly removed; but as soon as my thought was amused, at the same moment the demons surrounded me in order to prevent my thoughts from turning to God and the Jesus Prayer" [1538].

Alexandra Kupreyanova [1539]

From Family Memories [1540]

I

The village of Pokrovskoye was an old noble nest. In the last century, it was owned by Alexander Semenovich Brianchaninov, one of the most respected people in the province. Being a chamber page under Emperor Paul, then a friend of Pozdeev and other pious masons of that time, who left St. Petersburg after 1812, he transferred his refined habits to the northern wilderness. Pokrovskoye was rebuilt by him. His will and artistic taste created a small Versailles with a castle-house, a regal garden and an elegant church on the barren land of a clayey Russian mountain.