Canterbury

In my last blog, I said that henceforth I was just going to write topically as I was impossibly behind in any sequential description. Here's an overview of what I mean. Just in the past few days, we've visited the historic site of Edward I's palace and castle on the Thames river that later would become home to an early Parliament House. The remains included the impressive Jewel Tower, a stronghold that once housed the royal collection of valuables and crown jewels. In the 16th and 17th centuries, it was home to the records of Parliament. We spent more than half a day in the British Museum, enjoying a tour lasting just over an hour and a half that covered the most ancient relics in the collection. Yes, this included the Elgin Marbles, the Portland Vase, and the Rosetta Stone. While in the neighborhood of Westminster Abbey, we, of course, had to visit Methodist Central Hall, London's largest venue for Methodism and the first meeting place of the United Nations.

Taking a little trip to the east of London, we visited Leeds Castle, a splendid fortification the main body of which sits in the middle of a picturesque lake. Rare birds, art treasures, and Medieval excavations kept us running all over the adjacent countryside. Then, we saw those white cliffs. There are no bluebirds native to England, so I didn't sing the song (do you know "There'll be Bluebirds Over the White Cliffs of Dover"?), but Dover is just as lovely as the pictures. We ate lunch atop one of the chalk cliffs and then went down into the port city to wade in the channel foam and enjoy the vista that included Dover Castle, called the "Key of England," and a Roman lighthouse four stories tall, the tallest Roman structure in the country.

And then there is Canterbury. In my last entry, I wrote that Westminster seemed more a ceremonial/historical shrine than a church. Canterbury is a shrine that nevertheless retains the best qualities of a church--connected to a past of religious worship and veneration and of political intrigue. If you don't know the story, in the late 1100s Henry II was emerging as a powerful king whose struggle to gain control of his country, courts, and tax structure led him into direct confrontation with the Pope in Rome. When Henry installed his friend Thomas Becket as leader of the English Catholic church--the Archbishop of Canterbury--the king thought his problems were over. Until Thomas became religious. In 1170, Henry told four knights that he wished someone would rid him of "this troublesome priest," so the knights rode to Canterbury and entered the cathedral. They caught Thomas as he was climbing the stairs to the alter for Evensong service. Thomas fled downstairs but was caught at the entrance to the crypt where three of the four knights struck him across the head and shoulders. He died in just a few minutes. His monks took his body and placed it in between two columns in the crypt. Miracles associated with Becket blossomed, and the faithful began to arrive on pilgrimage to see where this martyr had shed his blood. By the late 14th century, Chaucer memorialized the pilgrimage in his "Canterbury Tales."

With the catherdral over 600 feet in length, I had trouble capturing the entire structure in a single snapshot. It is constructed in the form of a Greek cross, which means that there is a long, central nave that is intersected by two crossbars. Few side alters or monuments obstruct the view of the entire length of this tall, gothic nave. In fact, the cathedral is an interesting combination of styles. An older cathedral in Romanesque style on this site left an under-croft of low, semi-circular arches, while the newer gothic construction of the 13th and 14th centuries created the 120-foot-tall, peaked arches of the primary nave. There is a lovely inner harmony--the sort of place that you could sit and just look up to marvel at the genius of the stonework. A monastic chapter house in gothic style and a beautiful yard enclosed by a peristyle complete the serenity the infuses the church.

And the pilgrims came. There is a single candle lited each day on the spot where the shrine to Becket stood until the Reformation. Four twisted stords hang over the place where Thomas fell. Also interred in the cathedral are Henry VI, his queen, and the Black Prince, but the pilgrims came to see Thomas. There were so many that the monks built a special tunnel underneath the main alter to take them to the site of his martyrdom without disrupting customary services. I came as a pilgrim too. Brought by the story of the argument between two friends--Henry and Thomas--and impelled by Chaucer's sometimes irreverent pilgrims, I wanted to see where the martyr's blood wrote itself into history, literature, and legend. And I found what I came for.