Showing posts with label Church of the Holy Sepulchre. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Church of the Holy Sepulchre. Show all posts

Wednesday, August 5, 2015

Imitations of the Holy Sepulchre: The Round Churches of Medieval England

By Mark Patton.

In an earlier blog-post, I explored the place of Jerusalem in the Early Medieval Scottish and English imagination. Pilgrimages to Jerusalem in the 8th, 9th and 10th Centuries were both expensive and dangerous, and so everything that was known about the holy places of Christendom was based on a handful of accounts from pilgrims who had successfully made the journey and returned to tell of it. Prominent among these was the account of the Frankish Bishop Arculf, who recounted his story to Saint Adomnan on the island of Iona.

The Church of the Holy Sepulchre that Arculf had visited was subsequently damaged by earthquakes in 746 and 800 AD, and by the Muslim forces of the Fatimid Caliph, Al-Hakim bi-Amr Allah in 1009. His son, Caliph Ali az-Zahir, however, permitted its reconstruction, and the rotunda that pilgrims and tourists visit today is, essentially, this 11th Century building, funded by the Byzantine Emperor, Constantine IX Monomachus.

The Church of the Holy Sepulchre
as restored by Constantine IX.
L. Hugues-Vincent 1912


The Church of the Holy Sepulchre, Jerusalem, as it is today.
The circular, domed sanctuary is the 
Catholicon, built by Constantine IX,
and the structure at its centre is the 
Aedicule, believed to
enclose the tomb in which the body of Christ was placed.
Photo: Jlascar (licensed under CCA).

During the epoch of the Crusades (1096-1204), many more Europeans, including Britons, travelled to the Holy Land than had done so in the preceding centuries, but for most people living north of the Alps, such a journey remained unthinkable. In church each Sunday, and on the many Holy Days of Obligation, people would hear their parish priests telling, in their sermons (the only part of the Mass that was delivered in the language of everyday speech) of things that had happened in lands that most of them could never hope to visit in life.

Some of those who had made the journey, and returned to England enriched by plunder, had the idea to build churches in imitation of the Holy Sepulchre, so that those unable to visit for themselves might, nonetheless, have an idea of what was to be found at the holy sites. One such was Simon de Senlis, the second Earl of Huntingdon and first of Northampton, who fought in the First Crusade, and returned to build the Church of the Holy Sepulchre in Northampton.

The baptistery of the Church of the Holy Sepulchre,
Northampton in 1897.
The pillars belong to de Senlis's original church,
but the arches visible today belong to a later Medieval phase of restoration 

Around half the size of the Jerusalem Catholicon, the circular structure built by de Senlis had a rotunda supported on eight round pillars. In the centuries following his death in 1111, as the town of Northampton grew, it was incorporated into a much larger parish church, in which it functioned as a baptistery.

The Round Church in Cambridge was built around 1130, by the Fraternity of the Holy Sepulchre, probably a group of Austin Canons. The Austin Canons were particularly concerned with the provision of hospitality to pilgrims, so it seems likely that Cambridge was a stopping off point for pilgrims travelling to holy places within England (Walsingham in Norfolk, for example, sacred to the Virgin Mary, and itself in the care of the Austin canons).

The Round Church, Cambridge.
Photo: Noles1984 (licensed under GNU).


The interior of the Round Church, Cambridge.
Although extensively restored following damage in the English Civil War,
this probably gives a clearer idea of the original architecture
than does Northampton's round church.
Photo: Sailko (licensed under GNU).

The Temple Church in London's Holborn is a larger and grander construction with direct royal connections. It was consecrated in 1185, probably in the presence of Henry II, as part of a large monastic complex that served as the London headquarters of the Knights Templar. Templar knights were monks as well as fighting men, and, when not on campaign, lived an enclosed life. The Temple Church served as a royal treasury during the reign of King John, and some of the most important negotiations leading to the adoption of Magna Carta took place there. It was seized by Edward II in 1307, as part of the Papal suppression of the Knights Templar.

Temple Church, Holborn,
in the early 19th Century. 


The Church of Saint John the Baptist
at Little Maplestead, Essex, was built in around 1335
by another military-religious order,
the Knights of Saint John (Knights Hospitaller).
Photo: John Webber (licensed under CCA).

Round churches, more or less directly styled on the Catholicon of Jerusalem, can be found in Scandinavia, Germany, the Balkans and Italy, many of them on pilgrimage routes, and most of them under the protection of the Knights Templar, who protected these routes, the Austin Canons & Augustinian Friars, who provided hospitality for pilgrims, or the Knights of Saint John, who served both of these functions. Whilst Jerusalem itself remained the ultimate pilgrimage destination throughout the Middle Ages, these representations provided a glimpse of the Holy City's glories for the overwhelming majority of pilgrims who had to content themselves with shorter devotional journeys, whether to Canterbury, Saint Andrews or Santiago de Compostela.

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Mark Patton blogs regularly on aspects of history and historical fiction at http://mark-patton.blogspot.co.uk. His novels, Undreamed Shores, An Accidental King and Omphalos, are published by Crooked Cat Publications, and can be purchased from Amazon.


Thursday, July 23, 2015

On the Holy Places - Jerusalem in the Early Medieval Imagination

By Mark Patton

On a recent visit to York, I found myself looking into the eyes of a (modern) bronze statue of the Roman Emperor, Constantine I, who acceded to the purple at York on the death of his father in 306 AD. He appeared to be gazing straight through me at a stone pillar that he must have known in life since it stood in the military headquarters building in which he probably gave his first imperial speech.

The statue of Constantine in Deansgate, York,
commissioned from Philip Jackson RA in 1998.
Photo: York Minster (licensed under CCA).


The Roman column at Deansgate, York,
discovered in 1969 beneath a transept of the Minster.
Photo: Stanley Howe (licensed under CCA).

Constantine would go on to make two of the decisions that shaped the world in which we live. The first, made almost certainly under the influence of his mother, Helena, was to end discrimination against the Christian Church and ultimately adopt it as the religion of the Empire. The second was to relocate the capital of the Empire from Rome to Byzantium, which he renamed Constantinople. His new empire was to be an eastward-facing, rather than a westward-facing, empire, and for a Christian Emperor, this meant that it would face towards Jerusalem, the centre of the Biblical world.

Helena lost no time in travelling there and soon wrote to her son, declaring that she had discovered not only the tomb of Christ but also the fragments of the True Cross, the socket in which it had stood, and the nails by which Christ had been affixed to it. In doing so, she inaugurated and invented the institutions of pilgrimage and of the veneration of relics, which were to hold such sway over the Medieval imagination in Europe. Constantine ordered the construction of a church on the site, replacing a temple to Venus that had been built by his predecessor, Hadrian.

Saint Helena discovering the True Cross,
Italian manuscript of c825 AD,
Vercelli, Biblioteca Capitolare, MS CLXV.

An early pilgrim was the 7th Century Frankish Bishop, Arculf, who, having visited Jerusalem and Egypt, was, on his return voyage, shipwrecked off the coast of Iona (one may well question the judgement of his ship's captain), and taken in by Saint Adomnan, the head of the island's monastic community, who wrote a treatise "On the Holy Places," based on Arculf's account.

Constantine's Church of the Holy Sepulchre had been badly damaged in 614 AD during a Persian invasion under Khosrau II, so the building seen by Arculf was a reconstruction. It is reasonably clear, however, that there were three elements to the original construction: a circular shrine centred on the tomb of Christ; a rectangular basilica on the site of the crucifixion; and a courtyard separating the two. Early copies of Adomnan's description, including, probably, the one that he himself gave to King Aldfrith of Northumbria, contained illustrations based on a drawing that Arculf himself had drawn on "a tablet covered with wax."

The Holy Sepulchre in Jerusalem,
as described by Arculf to Admonan.
9th Century copy, Vienne, Osterreichisches
National Bibliothek, Codex 458, f4v 


The 7th Century Church of the Holy Sepulchre, 
as interpreted by James Rose in 1895, 
based on Adomnan's account and the 
archaeological evidence.


The number of western Europeans in the early middle ages who were able actually to make the pilgrimage to Jerusalem was tiny. Arculf mentioned the presence, in Jerusalem, of many Christian pilgrims, but most are likely to have been Orthodox Greeks and Syriacs or Egyptian Copts, the journey being both too expensive and too dangerous for most Catholics in the west to contemplate.

Descriptions such as Arculf's, therefore, became the basis for a Jerusalem of the mind, a spiritually important, if physically inaccessible, place for most Christians in the west. This Jerusalem of the mind lies at the centre of the imagined world of the Medieval Mappa Mundi, produced not as an aid to navigation, but as a physical expression of a theological world view.

The Cotton map of c1040.
Britain and Ireland are at bottom left,
emphasising their peripheral status,
whilst Sri Lanka ("Taprabanea") is at the top.

According to this world view, the journey to Jerusalem was one that every Christian must make eventually, but not necessarily in this life, for it was at Jerusalem, and not anywhere else, that Christ would make the Last Judgement between the saved and the damned.

The Last Judgement,
from a manuscript of c1050,
British Library, Cotton MS Tiberius CVI.


The Valley of Gehenna, Jerusalem,
believed to be the gate of Hell.
Photo: Deror Avi (licensed under CCA).

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Mark Patton blogs regularly on aspects of history and historical fiction at http://mark-patton.blogspot.co.uk. His novels, Undreamed Shores, An Accidental King and Omphalos, are published by Crooked Cat Publications and can be purchased from Amazon.