St Mary's Church, Tintern, Wales

Above the remains of Tintern Abbey stands the burned out remains of St Mary's church. A sign in the graveyard said that the church was rebuilt in the 1800s, and burned down in the 1970s (or was it 1960s?). It was decided to not rebuild the church and it was abandoned.

I don't know when the church was originally built, but the presence of a piscina to the south of where the high altar would be indicates that it could have been built prior to the reformation. A piscina is a niche with a bowl carved into the base for holding water. After the communion section of the mass ceremony was over, the priest would wash the vessels (chalice and paten) in the piscina. The piscina had a hole in it that would be plugged to hold the water in. After being used the water would drain out of the hole. It is possible that this piscina was added by the Victorians, who were very fond of recreating their version of the past. At the same time high church practices were becoming more popular among the Victorians, and the piscina was a symbol of high church (and Catholic) traditions. This piscina is interesting to me because it has two bowls for holding water, not one.

The church is set up pretty conventionally. You enter the church though a north porch, which also houses/did house the bell. There is a nave, with no aisles, leading to an eastern window in front of which is a raised platform on which the altar once stood. On the south east side of the nave is a doorway (above) leading to two smaller rooms. One seems like it could have been a side chapel. The floor is fallen in and it is hard to tell what was there.

The other room through the door way is smaller, and has this fireplace in the north east corner. It is strange to see such a thing. I am guessing the fireplace is a Victorian addition. The small size and fireplace, as well as its location in the church, make me think it might have once been the vestry (the room where the clergy dressed).

This is another shot of the doorway leading to the possible chapel and vestry. You can also see the east window, which looks out to Tintern Abbey.

You can see the fallen in floor in the chapel here. The entire church was overgrown with trees both inside and out, with the exception of the central aisle in the nave, whose tiles seem to keep the plants down in that one strip.

Cool shot!

In this shot you can see the west window, as well as get a good idea of the tree growth inside the building.

This is the view from one of the north windows of the church looking out over the village of Tintern. When I asked for directions to the church, the woman gave me directions to the other, still operational church in the village, not thinking anyone would want to see St Mary's. I had no idea that when Rick Steves recommended seeing the view of the abbey from the church that it was just the ruins of a church. It was so amazing to turn the corner on the cobbled road and see the gutted building, covered with ivy, surrounded by a graveyard. When Wordsworth wrote his poem "Lines composed a few miles above Tintern Abbey", the abbey was derelict and covered in ivy, just like St Mary's is now. The condition of St Mary's is as close to Wordswoth's Tintern as we can get today. I would highly recommend this to anyone who is in south Wales. Well worth a day out.

Tintern Abbey, Wales

Cistercian monks founded Tintern Abbey in the early 12^th century. Tintern is located in South Wales, just a few miles from the border with England, which meant it was spared many of the Welsh uprisings that plagues other monastic communities of the middle ages. The monastery was destroyed during the dissolution of the monasteries under Henry VIII, being handed over in 1536. For some reason much of the church remains, not having been dismantled and used for building, like in other areas. Below you can see the ceiling-less crossing.

I was first in Wales three and a half years ago, but did not have time to get to Tintern. When I was back in Cardiff with my family I decided I would not miss my opportunity a second time. It has been nearly a month since I was in Tintern, so I have forgotten a great deal of the specific history, but I will try to caption the pictures well.

This is what remains of the south transept looking north. It is so amazing to see the building in partial decay. The walls still stand but the windows are empty, the ceiling has disappeared and the floor is carpeted with green grass. I have never seen anything like it.

Taking pictures of yourself using a tiny tripod is interesting. This is the third one I took and was by far the best. I am standing in the chancel/east transept.

The monks who lived n the monastery were cloistered off not only from the rest of the community in the area, but from the lay brothers who lived and worshipped in the monastery. Lay brothers had not taken the same vows as the monks and were not committed to the order for life. This door, in the north west corner of the nave, was used for the lay brothers to access the church for services, where the lay brothers were then partitioned from the monks, but more on that later.

This is what remains of the church shot from the cloister on the north side of the building (most Cistercian houses had the cloister on the south side, but for some reason it is on the north in Tintern). The cloister was a place that was covered and allowed for monks to exercise outside while still separated from the outside world. The central area in the middle would have been uncovered and used as a garden/orchard.

This is the crossing as seen from the top of the Night Stairs in the north transept (more on the night stairs later).

The stones seen here are the remains of the pulpitum in the nave. The pulpitum is a stone screen used to separate areas within the church. Normally the screen was placed to cut the east end of the church off from the rest of the building, but at Tintern, it was extended into the nave, allowing monks to be isolated from other people during services. The west end of the nave also had a separate area screened by a pulpitum for the lay brothers. I have never heard of such screening in the nave in any other English church, though I have seen them in Spain.

This is the north transept. To the left is a staircase from the early twentieth century. The original stairs would have been used by monks to come into the church for the night time services directly from their dormitory. You can see the remaining wall of the dormitory through the window, which it partially blocks.

Pretty!

The hole in the wall here is one of two original book cupboards in the abbey. The other was filled in years ago. This might seem a little strange to some people, but at a time when each book had to be hand copied by a trained monk (usually) onto prepared animal skins and then bound together, books were expensive! Strangely, the book cupboard is in the cloister, and not in an interior room.

The decaying walls here are part of the remainsof the other buildings of the abbey: kitchen, refectory, dormitories, lavatories, hospital (with its own cloister, kitchen and lavatories) and abbots house, to name a few.

I call this Ye Olde Dishwasher (As a side not 'ye' is pronounced 'the.' The letter commonly miss-transcribed as a 'Y' is called a thorn, and makes the sound of 'th.' The word pronounced 'ye' has never been used as an article). This is a washing area in the refectory (dining hall). The area on the left held water and the right was likely used for storage.

Speaking of the refectory, here it is. You can see ye olde dishwasher to the left of the door. The stairs to the right lead to a pulpit from which a monk would read during meals. You cannot see it, but to the left of the dishwasher is a door leading to a storage room directly opposite that is a pass through that leads to the kitchen.

This is the remains of the warming room. Only this room, the kitchens and the hospital were allowed to have a fire burning in them. This fire was lit on All Saints Day (November 1) and put out in the Feast of the Annunciation (March 25, I think this is the correct date but cannot remember). A large fire would be lit here and monks would be allowed to warm up for only a short amount of time.

TOOLTES!

Llandaff Cathedral

I was in Cardiff a few weeks ago while my aunts and my cousin were there for rugby. I plan on writing more later, but I am VERY busy now and do not have much time. Anyway...ENJOY!

Llandaff is a city (or suburb, I am not very clear on its exact distinction) on the outskirts of the capital of Wales, Cardiff. Interestingly (at least to me) unlike England, the Archbishop of Wales is chosen by the other Welsh Bishops, and he (or she, as could possibly happen some day). The Archbishop then stays at the Cathedral where he is already situated. In England one becomes the Archbishop of Canterbury, officially, by being the Bishop of Canterbury; the place and the title are officially linked; one cannot be the Archbishop of Canterbury if one is not also the Bishop of Canterbury. This is similar to the Pope, whose official title is the Bishop of Rome (a term used derogatorily by Reformers in the 16th and 17th century).

Llandaff Cathedral is the oldest Christian site in the Britain, having been founded by Irish monks in the 5^th century. It is the Anglican cathedra for Cardiff, the capitol of Wales, and one of the favorite churches of the Queen (according to the guide who I talked to). I walked around the cathedral for a bit before asking a guide a few questions about the church. My guide’s name was Henry, was 86 years old and had lived in Wales for about half his life. After the war he married a Welsh girl he met in London and then lived in Illinois for 11 years, working for the Royal Air Force and training new recruits. There is too much to mention here, but I have captioned a few pictures for your enjoyment/edification.

The Majesto is the giant, 1950s sculpture that dominates the cathedral. During the war, a German bomber, probably aiming for the port, dropped a giant bomb just outside the cathedral, destroying half the nave. Eventually the nave was rebuilt, using almost all the original stone. In order to commemorate this event, a famous Jewish artist (who had recently finished work at the rebuild Coventry Cathedral) was asked to create a piece for Llandaff. It took him a few years, but eventually created The Majesto, which he called The Jewish Christ. I think it is hideous. In general I do not like this style of art/architecture. It is well made, just not my style. The part that ruins the cathedral, n my opinion, is the arch on which the main statue sits. It does not match the rest of the cathedral in form, texture, color, angle or anything. It looks like something was packed to look as out of place as possible and then given a prime location in the cathedral. Henry said that the people who work in the cathedral all love it.

This is the skull of St Teowl (I think I have spelled it correctly). It is a relic of one of the saints who the cathedral is dedicated to. A verger told me “St Teowl had three heads. It’s true! How else could three different churches claim to have his skull?”

The cathedral has a square chapter house (the room where the monks or governing body of the cathedral gather for business). You can see it in this picture, with the grey roof and tiny windows. I have never scene a square chapter house, only circular. When I mentioned this to Henry he said, “Well what shape are they usually?” “Round.” I said. I was able to see inside (it is not open to the public, but a verger showed me around). It was not only square, but also surprisingly small for a cathedral. I later saw a square chapter house at Tintern Abbey.

The eastern end, a Lady Chapel, was restored by the Victorians in their classic I-think-this-is-what-it-must-have-looked-like-because-I-have-am-overly-romantic-view-of-the-time-period-and-will-freely-change-anything-to-what-I-think-it-looked-liked-even-if-there-is-no-evidence-for-this-and-still-call-it-original. It wasn’t as badly restored as other Victorian churches (I read a historian that once said the Victorians destroyed more churches that the Reformation). It was the prettiest part of the cathedral and I enjoyed it very much.

The archway here shows the age of the building. The rounded arch with its geometric patterns indicates that it is a Norman building (Norman is British for Romanesque). A later arch would be pointed and have an airier feel to it, making it a Gothic arch.

I just really like this picture. This is the west door showing the stairs leading up the hill. Normally cathedrals are built on higher ground, and I have never seen a cathedral built in the side of the hill like this is.

Why I Love Train Travel in England

I was on the train to Cardiff to see my aunts and a cousin who were there for a rugby game this past Thursday. I spent about three and a half hours on the train, going from Stratford-upon-Avon, to Birmingham Moor Street, to Birmingham New Street, to Bristol Parkway, to Cardiff Central. Sounds like a lot, but it was not that bad.

Anyway, on with what I love about British train travel. I have only really taken trains in America twice: once on a trip to the east coast and once from Tacoma to San Francisco. The east coast trip was fine, the Tacoma to San Francisco was the worst travel experience of my life (including the 12 hour night-bus across Turkey that stopped every 30 minutes). Here is why:

The train was three hours late by the time it arrived in Tacoma. The real amazing thing was that it left Seattle, its point of origin, on time, and made no stops between Seattle and Tacoma (a driving time of maybe 40 minutes). Strike 1. Then, mom and John got a private berth; I was stuck in the lowest class (not sure what the official term is) in a single seat surrounded by other people, including many, many children. Strike 2! Every time another train approached ours we were forced to stop, allowing it to pass (they have to do this because the train company does not own the tracks, and so has to give way to all other traffic). This would not have been quite so intolerable had they not accounted for this in the time the journey takes, because it clearly happens every time they make the journey. STRIKE 3!

So for all of you who understand baseball you should realize that the train company has struck out already, and we haven’t even left Oregon yet! Stay tuned for more annoyance.

The dining car was abysmal. About 1/3 of the booths were used for storage of random crap, there was very little choice in what you could eat and almost none of the food was warm. My mom ordered a Corona (for something ridiculous like $6.00), and when she told the waiter it was flat and stale he said too bad, and refused to give her another or refund her money, because she had taken more than one sip from the bottle.

We eventually arrived in San Francisco, about seven hours late. I was so pissed off that I refused to take the train back and made mom buy me a plain ticket to fly home (I was still young enough that I could do that). The price of the train tickets actually cost about the same as plane tickets, but John was and is afraid of flying (which he will not admit) and so we were forced to take the journey-of-the-damned-by-train.

Now what does this have to do with traveling by train in England? Well, I have never had an experience on the train in Europe that even comes close to the hell that was that trip. By contrast, if a train is 30 minutes or more late in England, they are legally obliged to refund all of your ticket. If this were the policy of the train company we used to San Francisco, they would be bankrupt. The trains are much more comfortable, even the crap trains in England are more comfortable than the seat I had to SF.

But the crowning glory, in my most humble of opinions, is the people watching. Generally, I do not get the idea of people watching. How can someone sit down and just watch people walk? It is s boring. However, when I am on a train I am forced to just sit and watch. My preference is to watch the frolicking lambs that are very prevalent at this time of year, but occasionally a little old couple will board the train and take my heart and attention. Today, as I was traveling between Birmingham and Bristol, a couple of about seventy boarded in Cheltenham Spa. They sat across the aisle from me, both seated on the same side of the table. They seemed normal, until the man handed his wife a small black backpack.

This backpack seemed to be Mary Poppins’ version of a travel bag; it was the kind of stylish yet practical accessory that screams “I’M USEFUL AND MATCH NEARLY ALL OF YOUR OUTFITS!!!” From this bag came two plastic coffee mugs with a pink flower/blue checkerboard pattern that clearly announced that the man had no hand in their purchase. In the bottom of each of these cups was a small sandwich bag filled with on teaspoon of instant coffee and then carefully tied. As the husband carefully emptied the contents of his too-big-for-what-it-contained bag into his coffee cup (an event that took nearly two minutes and required the assistance of his wife), the woman removed two sandwiches from the black bag, placing them in front of them on the table.

Once the instant coffee was emptied into the cups, patiently waiting for its transformation from a solid to a liquid, the black-bag-of-fabulousness revealed a giant thermos of steaming water. The only thing missing was milk for the coffee. “I guess they drink their coffee black.” I began thinking to myself, but before the though finished its journey through my mind, a tiny plastic bottle of milk was extracted from the magic bag. “Hot and cold in one bag? Now that is versatile.” I thought to myself.

But there was one last item that was needed to make the train picnic complete: two teaspoons, one for each of the adorable little old people. The spoons were removed from the bag, stirred briefly to combine the ingredients, tapped on the edge of the cup and replaced in the bag of wonder.

I truly believe the couple has done this many times before, and had timed everything out perfectly. As soon as they finished their meal, all the remaining residue was quickly swept back into the black-bag-of-stylish-organization in time for their stop, never to be seen by my eyes again.

What wonders await me on my next trip?

Saturday in Tewkesbury

Since Spring officially started on Wednesday the weather in Stratford has been beautiful. In order to take advantage of these nice days my friend Stuart and I spent the afternoon in the Town of Tewkesbury.

The town is dominated by the 12th century abbey. It was a lovely day.

When the abbey was dissolved under Henry VIII in 1540 (one of the last monastic groups to be dissolved) the people of Tewkesbury bought the church, claiming it as their parish church, and therefore necessary. The rest of the abbey grounds, cloisters, monastic building, etc., were destroyed.

The half-timbered, black and white building on the left is the oldest Baptist chapel in SE England, dating from the mid 17th century.

Old Baptist burial ground.

This is the eastern end of the abbey. Notice the lighter stone on the central part of the building. Before the dissolution there was an extension on the eastern end that served as the Lady Chapel (the cult of the Virgin Mary was very prevalent in the 15th century, when many lady chapels were built all over the country; the most famous being the Henry VII Lady Chapel in Westminster Abbey). In order to be allowed to keep the church as a parish church, the chapel had to be destroyed. You can also see apsidal (circular) chapels on either side, of which there are seven.

This is the south transept. Notice the pink stone? The other, yellow stones are traditional Cotswold stone. If you have read my entry on Chipping Camden (and you are a geek), you will remember that there is pink stone there. When Cotswold stone is burned it turns pink. So these stones went through a fire before they were used in building the church.

The building is Norman (which is British for Romanesque), having been built in the 12th century. I love the round, Norman arches on the main doorway here, with the Gothic windows the arches frame.

This is a painted tympanium from a chantry chapel in the south aisle of the abbey.

Since it is Lent, and this is a very high church, all statues are covered. This is a rood loft in the abbey.

A Victorian (?) Greenman in the gate to the abbey.

PRETTY!!!!!!!!!