In my previous post (Found here), I spoke on the Romanesque. To me it is an expression of stone that feels like home. Though I have yet to truly immerse myself in the broad span of Romanesque works across Europe, I have been able to visit one closer to home. Recently I went on a pilgrimage of sorts to Malmesbury, a delightfully quaint market town. From the high street alone it has the memory of old England’s charm, but at the heart of the town is far greater charm, the deeply embedded Malmesbury Abbey, standing still in the quiet English town, enduring a thousand winters. From the surface level this town is perfectly chocolate box, a tourist would relish in it’s quiet British lull, yet sleeping deep beneath the soil is the foundational roots which grew this once Great land. The sleepy market town with 5 or so charity shops, a hardware shop, some cafes and a good ol’ pub was once known as The City of the Britons, in the days of yonder year before the Imperial Eagle of Rome swept above the isles. Though that story has been lost to the earth.
It’s Christian beginnings were in the 7th Century, when the Irish Saint Maeldub (also known as Maildulf, any one who is a fan of Tolkein will prefer this name!) laid down his walking staff in the lonely forest country and began God’s work by building a hermitage, brick by brick. This small part of Wiltshire began it’s sacred journey from this moment forth. From his discipleship, a monastery and school was founded. The name of Malmesbury stems from this Saint, Mailduberi, Maldubesburg, Meldunesburg, etc., and finally Malmesbury.
One student of Saint Maildulf who would later take the mantle, following in his steps of sainthood was Saint Aldhelm. Maildulf was Aldhelm’s first mentor, becoming versed in Latin and Celtic-Irish Christianity. Aldhelm was to succeed Maildulf in his role at the monastery, and the community of Malmebury was to grow ever greater.
This was during a shift happening, when the turmoil lay quiet and an Anglo-Saxon rebuilding was beginning, a time of learning, deeply entrenched in the liturgy. Aldhelm was a knowledgeable scholar, knowing Greek, Hebrew and Latin, a poet and musician so full of music he could play any instrument in use at the time. He established smaller Christian communities and was vital in advancing education in Wessex. But perhaps he is best remembered as a poet-preacher, lute in hand. Aldhelm translated the Psalms into the Anglo-Saxon tongue, and sang the words of Scripture into the hearts of the town folk. In King Alfred's words:
'Aldhelm won men to heed sacred things by taking his stand as a gleeman and singing English songs on a bridge.'
He would be called a lunatic today.
The wisdom of St Aldhelm was lived in the King Aethelstan, the warrior king and unifier of the Anglo-Saxon Kingdoms, grandson of Alfred. Aethelstan is translated as Noble Stone.
Perhaps an aptly Saxon acrostic will best paint the picture of the young king who would form a nation.
‘Little prince you are known by the name noble stone
Look happily on this prophecy for your noble life
You will be the noble rock of Samuel the prophet
Fight mightily against the devilish monsters
An abundant corn field foretells a fine harvest
You are endowed with the holy gift of learning
In times of peace your stoniness will soften
And I pray you may seek and that God will grant the promise of your name.’
Another person of interest stemming from Malmesbury, is Eilmer the flying monk. The name is very literal, as he attempted to fly by crafting wings. William of Malmesbury wrote about 100 years after the event in his epic ‘Deeds of the English Kings’:
‘He was a man of good learning for those times; of mature age and in his early youth had hazarded an attempt of singular temerity: he had by some contrivance fastened to his hands and feet in order that he might fly as Daedalus, and collecting the air, on the summit of a tower, had flown for a distance of a furlong (200m); but agitated by the violence of the wind and a current of air, as well as the consciousness of his rash attempt, he fell and broke both his legs, and was lame ever after. He used to relate as the cause of the failure that he had forgotten to provide himself with a tail.’
The Portal into a lost but present world
This was the main reason for the pilgrimage to Malmesbury, I saw a fragment of it in a book and knew I had to go. Why this visit was important, is the sense of reviving the memories of our ancestors, seeing the carved forms which make their presence felt. Thankfully it was not just a name left in history books, like the myth of Atlantis, hoping one day we may be able to rediscover some slim trace of its existence. It is still standing, and was incredibly stirring to enter the space of this Abbey. Which opens the fascination of art, symbol by symbol, reflecting the web of complex physiognomy of a vanished civilisation. One thing to be grateful for, is that this vanished time needn’t be so alien, it isn’t as if an Englishman is trying to enter the mind that could ‘get inside’ an ancient African mask, the work at Malmesbury has a familiarity to it that is distant from our present mindset but still felt, and not closed off altogether. Access to these works and the ability to gaze and ponder allows us to sit in the radiance of the human presence found in these works, and the mystery to this act. The image has the power to make meaning clear in gestures beyond the scope of words. The fragments that survive, battered and chipped though they may sit now, still hold the ability that attests in the smallest of details to the permanent and visible presence of mankind and the grand capacity to subcreate. It is a marvel, that faded marks sweeping across stone is enough to preserve the sentiment of action and thought captured in a moment of time, trailing back across the centuries. It is a link of connection to the people we stemmed from and the chain that leads us all the way back to Eden.
Malmesbury Abbey is a unique kind of portal and Tympanum, to my knowledge, there isn’t any other like it, this is due to the feature of it’s porch. It’s a miracle it survived the defacers of the Reformation. Weathering has been unkind to a large portion of this portal, and much of the detail is lost and the lower half is almost gone entirely. They would have been radiant in colour, a phantasmagoria of the 12th century, exuding detail and richness of skill, despite this, glimpses are still there. This kind of portal packs the symbolic information to guide us to salvation. The portal begins with receding arches, the motif being scripture carved in stone. Each arch grows outwards, reflecting the cosmic story, the inner arch depicts the beginning of creation:
The middle arch portrays the journey of the patriarchs and Kings, and the outer arch, the birth, death and resurrection of Christ. I am curious to ponder upon what may have been running through the carvers heads and hearts at the time of carving, thankfully there are written records coming from around the period. One being the Nunnaminster Codex, a 9th century Anglo-Saxon prayer book, a lost worlds wisdom. Perhaps we can greater understand these carvings through the prayers they might of prayed (Pure speculation here!). One that drew me to reflection regarding this portal is read as so:
‘O God the maker and re-maker of human nature, the creator uncreated:
You spread the heavens and founded the earth;
You planted Paradise and formed man from the dust.
You recalled man from error to the way of life,
and You gave the Law, speaking from the midst of fire.
You blessed the patriarchs, and called the prophets.
For You are truthful and without deceit.
You are one and omnipotent, the fount of immortality.
You live here forever with Your son, our Lord Jesus Christ,
And with the Holy Spirit unto the ages of ages.
Amen.’
Did the prayers guide this carved portal? Perhaps so, that’s the thrill of the mystery.
What I adore about these carvings is the simplicity and directness of them. I would love to have a hole through time just to get a glimpse to see what this would of looked like when first created. The delicacy of line work which can still be seen in some is extraordinary, to the medieval mind this would have been like going to a cinema epic. Though now it is there expressed in crumbling honeyed bath stone. This is the first invitation to the grand narrative, upon entering you are met with your guides.
Here shows the unique feature of this sacred sculpture, the porch with the Apostles welcoming you on either side. I was initially lost for words when it comes to these carvings, to say I adore them is an understatement. Forget Rome, take me to Malmesbury! The imagination of the carvers would have sailed over to Byzantium whilst having their feet attached to the roots of the forest. Talking of feet, the apostles here almost have hobbit like feet, boulders of stability, walking the path we are to follow. The drapery is a dazzling array of harmonious linear movement. Each apostle is adorned with unique pattern, it’s as if the stones are singing the melody of a flowing river. Or swirling cloaks of incense. The angels sweep above like roofs to the Apostles, these are our friends to the saints, our guides and protectors. I shall turn to poems of Cynewulf to shed light on the reverence of the Apostles.
How these noblemen revealed their courage,
brilliant and blessed in glory. There were twelve
glory-fast in their deeds, selected by their lord,
cherished in life—their praise springs broadly,
their power and reputation across middle-earth,
no small majesty of these thanes of the prince.
From The Fate of the Apostles (https://oldenglishpoetry.camden.rutgers.edu/the-fate-of-the-apostles/) found in the Vercelli book.
The final part of the portal, which is just the beginning of the journey. Christ in Majesty or Christ in his Ascension, unfortunately this carving has seen better days, yet at least the core of it is still there, this would have been so wonderful. Again, I shall turn to the poems of the Anglo-Saxons to explore what may have been in the carvers imaginal space.
They saw two all-bright angels beautifully
agleam with adornments about that First-Child,
the Glory of Kings. They called down from the heights
with wrought words across the multitude of men
with a bright voice: “What are you waiting for,
people of Galilee in a circle? You may clearly
see the True Lord travelling into the skies—
the Owner of Victories will ascend upwards from here
to his new home, the Start of Nobility,
with his company of angels, the Origin
of Humanity, to the homeland of his Father.” (506-16)
Cynewulf, The Ascension from the Exeter Book. https://oldenglishpoetry.camden.rutgers.edu/christ-ii/
Not one Romanesque church is the same, they are not typical. It is hard to mistake Romanesque character yet in their expressions is a great strength of variation. They are both topical and international, they vary beautifully due to local traditions through materials, favoured forms and themes. The monastics and pilgrims gave birth to a new architectural style, and one that is exclusively European, the forests made of stone.
These sculptures don’t exist to tease our walls to look pretty, not merely there as the decorative doodles of carvers. The mindset that these portals and other carvings were created in perhaps shall be lost to the plough and soil. Though the vast span of time separates us to the creators of these, there is a message still clear. The portal is an entrance and an invitation to enter into the story of creation, the welcoming into the house of healing, to participate in a sacred bath and partake in the shared meal that stretches out to eternity. The example at Malmesbury Abbey, is a prime one.
I do wonder what will happen these days with old country Churches here in the UK, we have an innumerable amount of very old and very beautiful examples. As the cities grow, and the villages dwindle, matched with the decline of the Chruch of England, more often than not these ancient churches are being sold for residential use, laid to rest, or champing (Church camping). A relic of the past is what they are becoming, mix all that with extensive restoration and costly maintenances to keep them from crumbling, it is melancholic. In one sense, they are being kept alive due to novelty and tourism. I am grateful for it in a strange way, as it means they are kept standing and not destroyed for being financial nuisances, it shows that there is still a great deal of reverence towards these buildings. But it does seem sad, even nostalgic to gaze upon them and feel that sense of a forgotten time, and their presence being a continual reminder of that. On the flip side, their presence standing firm shows the refusal to be forgotten, even if they are novelties for many.
I think I shall continue to explore the works of Malmesbury. From this portal alone, a new breath can be felt on how to proceed into future works. How the Greeks hold Hagia Sophia as the pinnacle, I suppose I am holding the Portal of Malmesbury abbey as a smaller version. Who knows if the richness of this work could be expressed again, this Abbey is a lost world with the ruins on show as a tourist destination, serving flat whites and treacle tarts instead of the Divine Liturgy. These works came from an enchanted mind, from the vein of gold that has inspired many, the likes of Tolkien and CS Lewis, and countless others obsessed with the Medieval. To enter this enchantment, perhaps we ought to walk through this Portal and enter the song that will be sung unto the ages of ages.
This is going to be a shameless ask, if anyone is interested in having a small(ish) tympanum of sorts carved, I would love to make this happen! Do get in touch.
It is as if the artisans who crafted this church attempted to capture The Word in stone that the story might be passed on from ages to ages.
Thank you for sharing a glimpse into our divine patrimony. So much have we forgotten, so much do we need to remember.
Thoughtful and well done.