When thinking about what to write about today, I was looking at some of my recents posts, book reviews, castles and abbeys for the most part. So I thought, maybe I could write about a person? I hadn’t done a biography in a while, so I had a look at my books and my photos, photos are always a key decision maker when it comes to Historical Ragbag posts, and couldn’t decide on anyone. Therefore I had a look at some of my draft posts, things I’d either started writing about and didn’t finish, or posts that never got further than a heading. I came across one mysteriously titled, 13th century tiles, with nothing but the heading. I have written about medieval tiles before in the context of longer posts: Strata Florida Abbey in Wales and Mellifont Abbey in Ireland. Both have lovely examples of medieval tiles. You can see the posts in the links below
So what had been my original intention been in titling a post 13th century tiles? I’m not 100% sure, but regardless I decided that writing about medieval tiles a little more generally could be fun, and give me an excuse to visit the State Library for some books. So hence, this post was born. I hope you find it interesting. This is by no means an exhaustive exploration of medieval tiles, but it should be (I hope) a nice overall look at them, their purpose, how they were made, as well as lots of photos of course. I’ve deliberately changed the name to medieval tiles because I want to look beyond the 13th century.
As medieval tiles were floor coverings not that many survive in tact, undamaged, or in their original positions. This just makes the ones that have survived all the more precious.
To begin though, I said Historical Ragbag is about photos, hence here’s my favourite of my photos of a medieval tile
This tile is from Mellifont Abbey in Ireland, probably dates to the early 13th century and was excavated in the 1950s. It’s my favourite for two reasons, firstly the lion rampant design is still so clearly evident and secondly because I was allowed to hold it. It is surprisingly heavy, and made from earthenware with a lead glaze. It’s not the only medieval tile at Mellifont, you can see more in the photos below. As they were excavated in the 1950s they aren’t in their original positions, and while they have been laid out close to their original patterns, they are in a protected area because there was an issue with vandalism.
You’ll find common patterns across most medieval tiles. The ones at Mellifont encompass roughly 25 common designs. It is, though, the only place in Ireland where a lion and a griffin in a circle has been found.
Mellifont is a Cistercian abbey, the oldest in Ireland, and the introduction of tiles there in the 1230s is most likely due to the increasing Anglo Norman influence on Irish religious institutions. The tiles there are lovely, but they are not unusual in terms of medieval tiles more generally.
This brings me to the making of the tiles. It was first thought that they were made by the monks, but most likely they were made by laymen. Originally if you wanted a tile pavement for your religious institution, you’d pay a tiler who would set up on your land and make your tiles, as time went on and more tiles were needed commercial tileries were established. Definitely by the 14th century commercial tileries were the norm. They often stayed local though, and it wasn’t until the mid 14th century that importing tiles was more common. The commercial tileries were high quality, but the designs were more generic. So how were they actually made? A tile kiln was most likely two parallel chambers separated by a spine wall, with a furnace. The kiln was usually built of tiles as well. You can see a hypothetical tile kiln the in the image below- it is from the book Irish Medieval Tiles. The materials the tiles were made from was largely dependant on the soil in the local area. The glazes used for the patterns were lead, and the tiles were most likely fired at 1000 degrees centigrade.
Physical manufacture was only part of the process. The designs of the tiles, either in pattern or layout, was also incredibly important. The tiles would have been coloured, with yellow, green and white glazes being common. The local availability of material could also affect the colour choice. I’m going to run quickly through the main overall design types. I don’t have photographic examples that I can say are definitely correct to a type, so I’m afraid we’ll have to rely on description.
Plain Tile Mosaics: Essentially tiles that were glazed a single colour, without a design, of different shapes and arranged in a pattern.
Two Colour Decoration: A single colour tile with a design impressed on it with another colour, usually done with white clay.
Two Colour Mosacis: When the two colour principle was applied to different shapes to create a mosaic.
Two Colour Square Tiles: More complicated designs, where the design was the point of the tile, not the overall mosaic. These designs were usually figural, heraldic shields, lions, griffins and dragons, sometimes a national symbol.
Line Impression Decoration: These designs were incised into the tiles.
Line Impressed Mosaics: The designs were incised, but intended to be part of a broader mosaic pattern- often irregularly shaped.
Line Impressed Square Tiles: Designs incised into square tiles.
Relief Decoration: The design is impressed with a stamp.
Relief Decorated Mosaic: Stamped designs on tiles intended to be a mosaic.
Relief Decorated Square Tiles: Stamped designs on square tiles.
You can see some of the different colours and typical designs in the collection collated at St Augustine’s Abbey in Canterbury below.
As time went on and the manufacture of tiles was more commercialised the designs on the tiles did become generic, but they would originally have had a figurative power beyond simply being beautiful. In theory the more ascetic monasteries, such as the Cistercians, kept the designs simpler but even in these cases symbolism can be found. Religious motifs were common, with allusions to the Virgin Mary, or a fish on an oval ground, a lily for the annunciation, the Lamb of God for the Templars, or Catherine Wheels for St Catherine. There were also pagan symbols, you find these in a lot of church carvings too, especially the Green Man and lions’ faces. These more figurative tile designs, like a lot of church art work, would have helped to convey the stories of religion and medieval life more generally to a largely illiterate population. Aside from the figurative, coats of arms were also popular along with other heraldric devices. These could indicate a patron of the institution, or a local family.
An excellent example of a mixture of the more generic imported tiles, with still some local influence, is Strata Florida in Wales. These have some really interesting patterns. They are most likely 14th century and were uncovered in the 1880s. They have heraldic images, the arms of Hugh Despenser, the Fleur de Lis of France which may be a nod to the Abbey’s mother house in Clairveaux, as well as a few allegorical designs. You can see them in the photos below.
As you can see they are a mixture of some impression designs and some probably either stamped or painted designs. These particular tiles became a tourist attraction at the end of the 19th century and unfortunately some were souvenired. They are now kept under a roofed area for protection from the elements, but would have originally been laid in the main part of the Abbey and tradition is that only important guests and choir monks were allowed to walk on them. They were made in England and imported which might explain the presence of Hugh Despenser’s arms (you can see the shield in the top right of the second photo) as he was reviled by the Welsh.
Now, I promised pictures, so I wanted to move on to some examples of medieval tiles outside of Mellifont and Strata Florida. Hopefully they’ll give you an idea of some of the different uses of medieval tiles, and their geographic range. The selection is limited to tiles I have photographs of, but they should give you a good overview.
St Dogmael’s in Wales.
The tiles here are out in the elements and incredibly worn, you can see the impact that being a ground cover can have.
The Franciscan Friary in WaterfordIreland
Like St Dogmael’s these tiles exhibit the wear that medieval tiles are subjected to, but you can make out the remains of some inscribed designs.
A Pavement laid out in the Musee de Cluny- the middle ages museum- in Pairs.
This pavement dates to the end of the 13th century, is of two coloured tiles, with a mosaic border and you can see the heraldic Fleur de Lis as well.
Westminster Abbey is home to the Cosmati Pavement, an unparalleled work of inlaid stone from the mid 13th century. It stands at the high altar and you aren’t allowed to take photos inside the abbey, but you can see it at this link https://www.westminster-abbey.org/about-the-abbey/history/cosmati-pavement . The photo below is from the near the Chapter House, where you are allowed to take photos, and showcases some beautiful designs.
Winchester Cathedralin England
The tiles in Winchester are mainly 13th century and give you an incredible example of the sheer scale of some of these pavements in large religious institutions. They are the oldest area of medieval tiles to survive in England, and you’re still allowed to walk on them!
I wanted to finish the tour with a couple of anomolies, or different ways of covering the floor in medieval religious institions. The first Sainte Chapelle in Paris, the jewell box of a church that Louis IX of France had built to house the holy relics he collected. As you can see the floor is painted, the church dates to the mid thirteenth century.
Secondly, I wanted to look quickly at Chartes and its labyrinth. A subject I will return to in much more detail at a later point. Chartres Cathedral has a labyrinth inlaid into its floor. It most likely dates to the beginning of the 13th century, like a lot of our floor tiles, its exact purpose has never been clear, but pilgrims continue to come to walk its meditative meanderings.
So that brings us to the end of our exploration of medieval tiles. They were first and foremost floor coverings, but they were also beautiful, hand made and told their own stories. The ones that survive are in varied states of repair, but they can give you an idea of how truly majestic these pavements would have been.
Medieval Floor Tiles by Jane A Wight
Irish Medieval Tiles by Elizabeth Eames and Thomas Fanning
This is part two of my exploration of the life of Henry the Young King. This post is going to cover the last nine years of his life, from when he travelled with his knights to fight on the tournament circuit in c.1175 to his death in 1183. Part one covered his life up to this point, and can be read here.
As I explained in part one, I can not cover all of Young Henry’s life, as that would be an entire book. In fact there is an excellent book on Young Henry- Henry The Young King: 1155-1183 by Matthew Strickland which I highly recommend if you want to know more, I have drawn on it heavily for both posts. I’m also not going to rehash what I’ve already written, but like the first post I will be conveying a series of vignettes of Young Henry’s life. I will pick up where I left off. His time on the tourney field.
In c.1175 Young Henry received permission from his father Henry II to travel to the continent to take part in the tournament circuit. He had taken part in tournaments before, but this wasn’t just attending the odd tournament here and there, this was an extended tour of the tournament fields of France. This is one of the best known periods of Young Henry’s life. This is mainly because the History of William Marshal devotes a significant portion of its content to the tourney exploits of its hero William Marshal, and thus Young Henry who was his lord during this period of time.
I want to pause in my narrative about Young Henry at this point to explore the tournament circuit just a little, to give an overview of what exactly Young Henry was involved in. I’ll then move on to the fantastic descriptions of some of his exploits that can be found inthe History and other contemporary sources.
So the tournament circuit is essentially what it sounds like, a series of tournaments in this case conducted around what is now considered France. Henry II was not a fan of tournaments, and had banned them in England possibly because he was concerned that they would stir up too much dissent. Tournaments were popular as training grounds for martial ability, a place to make a name and fortune for younger sons, and for nobility of all ranks to earn prestige and reputation. In the late 1100s tournaments were so popular it was possible to attend one every two weeks roughly if you so desired.
This was not polite jousting, with pretty colours and maidens’ favours that is the popular image of tournaments today. They could be quite brutal, with melees and hard fighting. The aim wasn’t to kill your opponent, it was to capture them to claim a ransom. People did die in tournaments though, in fact Young Henry’s younger brother Geoffrey was killed in a tournament in 1186.
Tournaments at the time were usually three day events and were sponsored by a great lord, such as the Count of Flanders. The lord, or lady, who sponsored the event was responsible for promotion, providing prizes, organising events around the tournament and making sure there was seating for the spectators. These were the high point of medieval entertainment and the nobility came from far and wide to watch and take part. The key component of the tournament, as far as Young Henry was concerned, was the melee which usually took place on the final day of the tournament. This was essentially a no holds barred cavalry charge between different teams of knights. The aim was to capture other knights for ransom, but prizes were also awarded for the best fighters. For example William Marshal was once awarded a pike (as in the fish) as a prize.
The melee was certainly worthy of the name- knights fought in teams but they didn’t wear ‘team’ colours. They all shouted the battle cry of their lords, but it was easy enough (and it did happen occasionally) to mistake friend for a foe. So it was into these exciting, brutal and most of all brilliant world of tournaments that Young Henry threw himself with much enthusiasm. You can see the violence of the melee depicted in the the 14th century Codex Manesse below. You claimed a ransom from another knight often by tearing off their helmet and wrestling them off their horse.
To begin with Young Henry and his knights were not incredibly successful, but over time they began to develop a reputation as amongst the best on the tournament circuit. It must have been a godsend for Young Henry, as he finally had the chance to build a reputation for himself, away from his father, and in an area where it turned out he excelled. At the height of his prowess on the tournament circuit he had more than 200 knights fighting under his banner, of which 15 were lords who had mesnies (men who followed them) of their own. Marshalling all these fighters was William Marshal the hero of the History and who was ultimately responsible for making sure Young Henry wasn’t captured. Young Henry was one of the few kings to take to the field and was recognisable because he wore his own heraldic device on his shield, banner and probably horse which made him a recognisable target. A king’s ransom would be the ultimate prize for most of the knights on the field. He definitely led from the front though; with the History describing him as many a time it happened that, when he spurred on, so the companies with him spurred on too, so vigorously as they advanced that those riding towards them from the other side could not withstand their charge. And it often happened that the other side had far more men than they, and yet they were thrown into disarray by the might power of the King’s companies.
Between 1176 and roughly 1180 Young Henry was a star of the tournament circuit. The History described him as a worthy, fine, and courtly man later in his life performed such high exploits that he revived the notion of chivalry, which as the time, was near to extinction. He was the gate, the way and the door through which chivalry returned, and he was her standard bearer.
The History goes onto record some of the more amusing exploits on the tournament field, such as the time when Marshal was leading a captured knight through the town of Anet and when Marshal wasn’t looking and the knight swung himself off his horse, onto a gutter and got away. The History says that the King saw it; he said not a word, preferring not to. It then goes on to say that it was all seen as a splendid trick. The tournament field gave Young Henry the chance to be different, to stand on his own reputation. Ralph of Diceto, who was a dean of St Paul’s Cathedral, recorded in 1179 that Young King Henry, the king’s son, left England and passed three years in tournaments spending a lot of money. While he was rushing all over France he put aside the royal majesty and was transformed from a king into a knight, carrying off victory in various meetings. His popularity made him famous; the old king was happier counting up and admiring his victories. What is interesting about this passage is firstly that it conveys that Young Henry was very much in the middle of the fighting, but also that his father approved of his foray into the world of tournaments because it added to his reputation. This second point contradicts the theory that Henry II would have disapproved of his spendthrift son. It is possible that he was happy that Young Henry was suitably occupied and thus not pestering him to rule parts of the Plantagenet Empire- as Henry II was not keen on relinquishing power. You can see Henry II’s effigy from Fontevraud Abbey beside Eleanor of Aquitaine’s in the photo below.
So the idea of Young Henry as a spendthrift is contemporary. It was somewhat of a double edged sword, because he needed to make the best impression he could, it was part of his reputation on the tournament circuit, and this involved largess and being open handed with his men, but he was also accused of running up debt. The History described it as It is true that the Young King, in the castles in town in every place he happened to come to, led such a lavish life that, when it came to the end of his stay, he had no idea how to take his leave. When it came to the last day, debtors would appear, men who had supplied him with horses, garments and victuals. Most of the debtors would have known that his money came from Henry II, so would have continued to lend knowing that Young Henry had the revenues of the crown to draw upon. It is worth noting that not all his spending would have been his, his retinue would have contributed and as they jockeyed for position within his household knights, including William Marshal, would have sought payment and favour from him. It was partly to keep them all in the luxury they thought they deserved that Young Henry would have spent his money.
So that brings me to the end of this vignette; Young Henry as the doyen of the tournament field was an important part of his life, and probably the first time he had real purpose and direction. There was also an ugly side of this band of young knights that flocked around the Young King. There was one incident in particular that I wanted to mention, as it isn’t mentioned inthe History mainly because it does not portray Young Henry in the ideal chivalric light that the History for the most part paints him. In 1176 Adam de Chirchdowne, who was Young Henry’s vice-chancellor, was discovered passing messages to Henry II. He was essentially warning Henry II that Young Henry had met with several nobles who were hostile to Henry II. Young Henry and his retinue were going to have Adam put to death either by hanging or flaying alive as he viewed the betrayal as treason. The Bishop of Poitiers intervened saying Adam was a Clerk and couldn’t be punished by the secular court, but once he’d left Young Henry exacted revenge. Roger of Hoveden described it as:
The king, the son, on his return, upon coming to Poitiers, took Adam de Chirchedowne, his vice-chancellor, who was a clerk of Geoffrey, the prior of Beverley, chancellor of the king, the son, and caused him to be beaten with sticks, charging him with having disclosed his secret counsels to the king, his father; and after being thus beaten, he had him led naked through the streets of the city of Poitiers, while, being still whipped, proclamation was made by the voice of a herald, ” Thus does he deserve to be disgraced who reveals the secrets of his master.”
Not exactly the act of the a paragon of chivalry.
Young Henry wasn’t only on the tournament circuit at the end of the 1170s, he was involved at least a bit with government. Roger of Hoveden records him a present at Windsor at Christmas 1176. You can see the keep of Windsor castle in the photo below:
Young Henry was then at Nottingham with Henry II when, with the bishops, they divided the kingdom of England in to six parts and appointed 3 justices to each section. He certainly held a peace of sorts with his father, fighting with him in various small wars in France.
Another small, but tragic vignette into the life of Young Henry occurred in 1177. Young Henry’s wife, Margaret who was the daughter of Louis VII of France, was delivered of a son who was either still-born or who only lived for a handful of days. I say this is a small vignette because it is only mentioned in passing by the chroniclers, it must have loomed large in Young Henry’s life and the life of his Queen. It’s sometimes hard to remember that even though the infant mortality rate was high, losing a child must have still been an incredibly painful experience. I am moving to speculation here, but it isn’t too far fetched to think that Young Henry must have had some dynastic plans, and he’d been married to Margaret since 1160 and this was the first pregnancy- though both were only in the mid twenties at this time.
I’m now going to jump forward a few years to the beginning of the end. Young Henry was doing things in between 1177 and 1183- he undertook more tourneying, he fought alongside his father in a number of French wars, he helped shore up the tottering reign of his brother in law Phillip II the new King of France, a task Henry II also helped with and which he would probably come to later regret. But by 1183 things were starting to unravel.
Young Henry and Henry II had managed to maintain peace since his rebellion in 1173, but by the 1st of January 1183 it began to implode. The key issue is that Henry II’s plans were dynastic, he wanted his empire to stay together- you can see an image of what the Plantagenet Empire looked like at the height of its power in the image below (if you read part one you’ll have seen this already)
He envisioned Young Henry as King of England, Duke of Normandy and Anjou, Richard as Duke of Aquitaine and Geoffrey as Duke of Brittany and John as possibly Lord of Ireland, or various other domains he tried to bequeath to him to overcome his appellation of ‘lackland’. He saw them as all working together, effectively paying homage to Young Henry as King of England. Unfortunately (and this is grossly simplifying a complex situation) he didn’t cede authority well, the brothers weren’t interested in working together (unless they were rebelling against each other or their father) so his plan had quite a few holes. It was one of these holes that tipped the balance in January 1183.
The hole was Richard, Aquitaine and paying homage to Young Henry. Homage was complicated, because while it was a swearing of allegiance, it also bound the person to whom homage was being sworn to protect the rights of the person swearing homage. So like the idea of Young Henry as a spendthrift and a a prince dispensing largess, homage was a double edged sword. The dispute began in 1182 when Richard built a castle on lands that would have traditionally been part of Anjou. Anjou was part of the territory that Young Henry would have inherited from his father, even though he had no control over it at this point. He most likely saw Richard as encroaching on his patrimony before he’d even had a chance to rule it. There was a patched up peace for the Christmas court in 1182 at Caen- you can see Caen castle in the photo below.
The situation came to a head in January 1183 in Le Mans. Henry II wanted Geoffrey to swear homage to Young Henry for his lands he held as Duke of Brittany, which went off pretty much without a hitch. He’d already performed this homage in 1169 to Young Henry in Young Henry’s position as Duke of Normandy. Henry II wanted Richard to perform homage as well. This was a bit tricker because Aquitaine wasn’t considered a subject of any of the lands Young Henry held. Richard considered himself Young Henry’s equal. He was claiming the rights to Aquitaine through his mother-as Young Henry was inheriting from primogeniture through their father.
Ralph of Diceto described Richard’s anger at the proposed act of homage,
Since he came from the same father and same mother as his brother, it was not right for him to acknowledge his elder brother as superior by some sort of subjection. Rather, by the law of firstborn sons, the paternal goods were due to his brother, and he claimed equal right to legitimate succession to the maternal goods.
Essentially Richard was seeing himself a Duke of an independent Aquitaine, which is not how Henry II had envisioned his empire running after his death. He had most likely envisioned Young Henry taking his place as the head of the family and as overlord of all the domains being held by his brothers. Eventually though, Henry II did persuade Richard to perform the act of homage provided that Young Henry swore that he would formally recognise that Aquitaine was to be held by Richard, and any heirs he might have, undisputed.
It should have worked, but Young Henry had other ideas- he refused to accept Richard’s homage. He cited that he could not as he had already pledged himself to help the recalcitrant Aquitainian barons who had be rising up against Richard. He said that he had made this pledge due to the castle that Richard had built, and urged Henry II to take the castle away from Richard. Roger of Hoveden recorded Richard’s reaction
Richard, feeling greatly indignant at this, withdrew from the court of the king, his father, and going to Poitou, his own territory, built there some new castles and fortified the old ones.
Henry II prevailed on all three brothers to come to Angers to swear a perpetual peace between them, you can see Angers castle in the photo below (it dates to the 14th century but is on the site that had been home to the Counts of Anjou for centuries)
Richard was persuaded to hand his castle over to Henry, probably to stop Young Henry from having an excuse to meddle in Aquitaine. So a peace again was patched up, but it was short lived. In February 1183 Geoffrey was sent to work out a truce with the rebels, but he immediately sided with them instead- which was most likely pre-arranged with Young Henry. Young Henry offered to act as an intermediary, but ultimately he joined forces with Geoffrey and the Aquitainian barons and thus began another family war- one that was to be the Young King’s last.
There was a couple of key points to this conflict that it is worth examining, but as this is supposed to be about Young Henry and his life I am not going to go through what can be called the brothers’ war in great detail.
So the key points:
Firstly it is arguable who the instigator of the conflict was. It seems that Geoffrey and Young Henry were trying to provoke Richard to give them a legitimate reason to rise up against him. It’s possible that Young Henry thought that if he could take Aquitaine then he would finally have some lands of his own to rule and, with the resulting revenues, not be beholden to his father. Geoffrey’s motives are murkier, but he may have been trying to put a stop to a situation where Richard ruled Aquitaine after their father’s death and started trying to take chunks out of Brittany. He may have seen Young Henry as a lord of Aquitaine that would be better for him. He may have also rebelled because Henry II hadn’t handed over all of the lands and rights that came with the Dukedom of Brittany- which Geoffrey held by right of his wife Constance. Henry II was in some ways an instigator as well, because in a moment of anger when his second attempt at peace failed and Richard left the court again, according to the History he declared (speaking about the Aquitainian barons and their fight against Richard) “Go on then, go to their aid, said the father, I’ll permit that.” So they left the King, and therewith that strife began which was not resolved until everyone all around had the worst of it.
The last words aptly sum up the brothers’ war, as everyone certainly had the worst of it.
So the second point that is important about this war is how it was fought. Geoffrey and Young Henry had learnt from their rebellion in 1173 and the forces they established against Richard were extensive. Gerald of Wales described it as an army greater than was ever before assembled at any time by a man having neither territory or treasure. This is typical Gerald of Wales- biting to say the least, but he isn’t wrong that it was a formidable army. The History describes it as
They retained in their service knights and soldiers, mercenaries and crossbowmen, fine footsoldiers and archers. And the high-ranking barons in the region, whom the count [meaning Richard], whom they hated bitterly, had treated badly, rode in great numbers, every one of them of a mind to fight for they would have loved to humble the pride of count Richard, if only they had the opportunity and could get the upper hand
This was a force to be reckoned with.
So these are the two key points to the start of the war: Geoffrey and Young Henry against Richard. You can see Richard’s effigy from Fontevraud in the photo below
This brings me to my next vignette of Young Henry; as a commander in his final war. He continued to protest to his father that he was trying to make peace between Geoffrey, the Aquitainian barons and Richard. Henry II continued to believe him until he tried to approach Limoges and was shot at by Geoffrey and the Young King’s forces. With Richard’s duchy seriously under threat in an increasingly incendiary war (the countryside and the people living there was being ravaged by mercenaries hired by Young Henry and Geoffrey) Henry II ended up on Richard’s side.
So once again Young Henry was in rebellion against his father. It was a culmination of all that had gone before, and even in rebellion Young Henry continued to act as an intermediary between the two forces. Whether this was in good faith or not we can never really know, but it does show how tentative he was, even in rebellion he couldn’t really find the place where he fitted.
This brings me to one of my last vignettes, Young Henry taking the cross. At St Martial, he swore on the holy relics that he would take the cross. We don’t know what his motivation was, it could have been genuine, Young Henry was an adventurer, and taking the cross would have certainly been an adventure. It could also have been a way out of a sticky situation. Most likely Young Henry hadn’t intended to end up in rebellion against Henry II, he was trying to fight Richard not his father, but he had sworn to the Aquitainian barons to help them, so he couldn’t back down even when his father entered the war on Richard’s side. So taking the cross, could have been his get out of gaol free card so to speak. Roger of Hoveden, has Henry II initially making this cynical assessment saying that Henry II was thinking that he had done this more through indignation than religious feeling
Hoveden then goes on to describe an emotional scene where Henry II begs Young Henry not to take the cross, but becomes convinced that Young Henry was sincere in his desire, he also promised to equip him for the trip. Henry II was an astute ruler and he must have recognised that having Young Henry out of the way meant that he would be more able to bring Geoffrey to heel. Additionally he’d be able to de-intensify the volatile situation in what had become a very nasty war- especially for the people living in the countryside that was being ravaged by Geoffrey and Young Henry’s routiers. So Young Henry and Henry II patched up a peace between the two of them. It was not to last though, Roger of Hoveden says
Shortly after, the king the son, pretending that he wished for peace, requested his father to send to him Maurice de Crouy with a truce, and some other barons ; and while some of their followers were conversing with him, they were slain in the presence of the king the son, by the enemies of our lord the king.
Now Hoveden is biased towards Henry II, and it is arguable whether this event actually occurred, but it was shortly after this Young Henry, finally and irretrievably threw in his lot with the rebels, he stopped trying to patch up even pretend peace with his father.
Thus began his final weeks.
Young Henry’s first problem was that he was running out of money. Henry II had vast resources to draw on, Young Henry simply didn’t and he knew that his routiers would only stay loyal if they were paid. Young Henry didn’t have many options, but the ones he chose can be seen as painting him in a sadly desperate light. He began robbing churches. Roger of Hoveden describes one such depredation
Money now failing him, the king, the son, proceeded to Saint Mary de Roche Andemar, stripped the tomb of Saint Andemar, and carried away the treasures of the church.
This wasn’t the only church he robbed, though he did promise to pay it all back, but it was the last. Which brings me to the final vignette of Young Henry. His death.
Before I discuss it though, I want to put the church robbing in a little context. It wasn’t seen as honourable in his own time, but it was not unheard of. Strickland argues, that he was building a war chest for a renewed campaign which was stopped by his untimely death. We will probably never know if his actions were basically to keep his troops paid, or if he was planning something bigger, because barely days after this final depredation, he was dead.
Roger of Hoveden says
In the course of a few days after this, the king, the son, seeing that he could not do any material injury to the king, his father, in consequence of indignation and rancour of mind, was attacked by a severe malady at a village called Martel, not far from the city of Limoges.
The History of William Marshal re-enters the picture here, because Marshal was back with Young Henry, just before his death. He’d been banished, according to the History because of calumny brought against him by jealous members of Young Henry’s household, and had been earning his way fighting for various lords for some time. The History has Young Henry saying to his Chamberlain Ralph fitz Godfrey Ralph, go to find the Marshal for me through any land you have to, and do not stop until you find him. I beg and pray that you tell that I am summoning him in good faith not to fail to come to me. And never let it show, whether in public or in private, that I ever had any mind to bear him ill-will; rather let him be again both lord and master of my household, just as he ever was, or even more so, so that nobody notices any difference. And let him know that I have found proof of the treachery which was concocted out of vicious envy by those damnable traitors.
Marshal- after having received letters of conduct from Henry II, and apparently offers of letters from the King of France and Duke Richard, returned to Young Henry’s side, to be in time to witness his death.
Death in the medieval period was a mercurial thing, because it was possible to die well. I have written about this before- so I won’t go into detail here. You can read my previous post on a good death below- Marshal’s death 36 years later is another good example (though for different reasons)
When Young Henry became sick so soon after robbing Andemar it was seen as divine retribution. So when he realised he was dying. Young Henry enacted the most spectacular example of repentance, and in doing so established his reputation, and enforced the ideal of him a chivalric champion.
Both Roger of Hoveden and the History have accounts of Young Henry’s death and in many ways as a theatrical performance, it was very much in line with the pageantry that was his life.
Hoveden records that:
He was first attacked with a fever, and then by a flux of the bowels, which reduced him to the point of death. On seeing that his death was impending, he sent for our lord the king, his father, who refused to come to him, as he dreaded his treachery.
Young Henry was determined to repent of his sins in his death and he had bishops summoned for confession of these sins and he gave to Marshal the responsibility of bearing his cross to Jerusalem. The History recorded him as saying
Marshal, Marshal, you have ever been loyal to me, a staunch supporter in good faith. I leave you my cross, so that on my behalf you can take it to the Holy Sepulchre and with it pay my debts to God.
Marshal agreed and spent nearly three years in the Holy Land, buying his own grave palls while he was there. But that’s another story.
Roger of Hoveden’s account of Young Henry’s death is detailed to say the least:
After this, laying aside his fine garments, he placed upon him haircloth, and fastening a cord around his neck, said to the bishops and other religious men who stood around him : “By this cord do I deliver myself, an unworthy, culpable, and guilty sinner, unto you, the ministers of God, beseeching that our Lord Jesus Christ, who remitted his sins to the thief when confessing upon the cross, will, through your prayers and His ineffable mercy, have compassion upon my most wretched soul.” To which all made answer, “Amen.” He then said to them: “drag me out of this bed by this cord, and place me on that bed strewed with ashes,” which he had caused to be prepared for himself; on which they did as he commanded them, and placed under his head and feet two large square stones; and, all things being thus duly performed, he commanded his body be taken to Rouen in Normandy, and there be buried. After saying this, being fortified with the viaticum of the holy body and blood of our Lord, in the fear of the Lord, he breathed forth his spirit
The History records his final words as being to Marshal
You will bear my body to the church of Notre Dame in Rouen, once my soul has parted company with it. And another thing I pray and beg of you is that you beg my father for mercy, asking him to curb his anger against me and to give me his blessing. After that he said “To the glorious God in Heaven I commend you, since I can no longer speak with you, now that Death is laying hands on me, Death who harries me with such cruelty that I cannot feel heart or body, or limb. But I ask you, in the name of God, to remember me.” So much he said and his soul departed.
And thus Young Henry died, at the age of 28 on the 11th of June 1183-a king but not really a king. There were arguments over where his body was to be buried (he wanted his brain and intestines buried at Martial at Limoges as a further act of contrition and the people of Le Mans managed to co-opt and actually inter his body) but ultimately he had his wish and he was interred in Rouen Cathedral. You can see the cathedral in the photo below, along with his (non contemporary) effigy.
Henry II was distraught at his son’s death, especially as he had not believed him and had refused to come to his side. It was not the end of the brothers war- but the Young King’s part in it was over so I will leave it there.
These posts do not cover all of Young Henry’s life, but I hope I have succeeded in illustrating it in vignettes, and if you’d like to know more I highly recommend Strickland’s book.
Young Henry is one of history’s classic ‘what ifs’. If he hadn’t died, there would have been, probably, no Richard the Lionheart and no King John- one of England’s most turbulent times in history could have been very different- no Magna Carta, no barons revolt, no Robin Hood legend the list goes on. Rather like the sinking of the White Ship and the death of William the Aethling in 1120 a single death re-routed the course of English history. His legacy is also complex. Dismissed by some as an idle spendthrift, lauded by others as a paragon of all virtues.
The History’s final verdict on Young Henry was always going to be laudatory because Marshal served him, but it lays out the paragon of virtue angle quite well.
A man of such worth that no man was ever his equal as regards valour and liberality. Never did Arthur or Alexander, whose lives were noted for their noble deeds, perform so many in such a short time. If God, by his command had allowed him to live a long life, he would have quite surpassed those two in valour and noble deeds.
As always with history the truth is probably somewhere in between. A King in name only with no authority or purpose, a son arguably driven to rebellion by a father who could not relinquish control. A young knight, who fought valiantly on the tournament field, a flower of chivalry and a despoiler of churches, a rebel and a loyal son, a want to be crusader, a husband and very briefly a father. Young Henry was all of these things. But he is almost held in amber- in stasis because he died before he could become more. If he had lived longer and become king in more than name, his legacy could have been completely different, or it could have been worse, extravagance and misplaced loyalties leading to disarray and break up of the Plantagenet Empire even earlier (most of it fell to the French under King John). We can simply never know. I do think it is interesting, and as always with the History of William Marshal you have to take it with a bucket of salt especially when it puts speeches in people’s mouths, that the History has his last words as
But I ask you, in the name of God, to remember me.
I hope with these posts I have helped a little to make sure he is remembered.
Anonymous. History of William Marshal. (ed.) AJ. Holden. (trans.) S. Gregory & (notes.) David Crouch, Volumes I, II & III. London: Anglo-Norman Text Society. 2002.
Aurell, Martin. The Plantagenet Empire 1154-1224. (trans.) David Crouch. Harlow: Pearson Education. 2007.
Strickland, Matthew. Henry The Young King 1155-1183. New Haven: Yale University Press. 2016
Roger of Hoveden. The Annals of Roger of Hoveden Comprising the History of England and Other Countries of Europe from A.D 732 to A.D 1201. (trans.) Henry T. Riley, Volumes I & II. London: H.G Bohn. 1853.
Crouch, David. William Marshal. London: Routledge. 2016.
In times like these, I think it is important to have beautiful things to read about. So I thought I’d put together a post on Ely cathedral. I’m not religious, but it is a truly beautiful building with a fascinating history. I have written about it before in my tour round medieval cathedrals post a couple of years ago, but I decided it deserved its own post.
Ely is a largely Romanesque Cathedral, which is unusual in the UK. Most UK cathedrals are gothic or later, with the occasional romanesque element remaining. But Ely retains many of its Romanesque features, especially on the exterior. You can see the curved and solid shapes rather than the more common gothic pointed and etherial shapes in the photos above and below. The building you see on the site today is an amalgam of centuries of development, the Romanesque style is largely Norman and in the case of Ely was mainly completed by 1189.
Ely is known as the ‘ship of the fens’ as it dominates what is pretty much the only high point in surrounding areas. In the medieval period it would have been surrounded by fenlands. Even now that a large amount of the fens have been drained you can see how it commands the landscape. The images below are taken from the roof of the cathedral.
Ely’s origins trace back further even than the Normans, back to the 7th century CE when it was founded as a monastery by St Etheldreda. Etheldreda was a Saxon Queen and when she died in c. 680 her shrine at Ely became a pilgrimage site. It was destroyed in 1541, but there is a slate in the cathedral in front of the high altar (I unfortunately don’t have a photo of it) to commemorate where it stood.
This original building was destroyed by the Danes in 870 but was re-founded as a Benedictine monastery in c.970 The buildings you see today were begun in the reign of William the Conquerer under the direction of Abbott Simeon. Ely was partly built as a mark of Norman authority in the aftermath of rebellions in the area such as Hereward the Wake’s against the still reasonably new Norman authority. Originally Ely church was the church for the monastery, but Ely became a cathedral in c.1109 when the Diocese of Ely was carved out of the Diocese of Lincoln. It still retained its place as a Benedictine foundation. You can see some of the remains of the monastic buildings in the photo below.
Ely was dissolved as a monastery in the dissolution of the monasteries in the mid 16th century though it continued as bishopric and ultimately a college of priests was run from the old monastic buildings. Remains of the cathedral’s time as a monastic site still remain in the cathedral itself, such as the prior’s door you can see in the photo below
Although the name is contemporary this intricately decorated door is one of three 12th century doors that led from the monastic buildings and the cloister into the cathedral. The other doors lead into the choir and the south transept (see below).
The prior’s door led straight onto the nave, which was serving as the parish church until the 1360s. The nave itself is one of the most spectacular parts of the cathedral.
One of the key remaining parts of the original Norman church, the nave itself is 75m long and the ceiling is 32m high. The roof is not original. There is a ledge that runs along the top of the Romanesque columns where the original roof would have rested. In 1240 the roof was reconstructed when the cathedral was extended. You can see some the extended areas in the photos below, they are noticeable more gothic than the Norman parts of the cathedral.
The basic interior structure of this secondary roof largely survives today, but it would have been open.
In the 1850s, however, the Dean of the Cathedral Dean Peacock was one of many who thought the open roof detracted from the overall beauty of the cathedral. As part of the restoration of the cathedral by architect Sir George Gilbert Scott he had a boarded ceiling inserted that followed the lines of the open roof. The painting you can see below, was also undertaken at this time.
Henry Styleman Le Strange was the artist. Originally he was painting other smaller areas of the cathedral, but by 1856 he’d agreed to Dean Peacock’s suggestion that he paint the entire ceiling, he began in 1858. The immense work was undertaken by tracing the drawings onto the ceiling. You can see local figures including Dean Peacock and the artist himself in the ceiling panels which depict biblical scenes. Sadly Le Strange was unable to complete his work as he died in 1862 and it was completed by Thomas Parry. To find out more about the ceiling, see the article I’ve listed in the references. Much of stain glass work in the cathedral dates from the Victorian era as well.
Even though the nave is spectacular, the highlight of the cathedral interior is, arguably of course, the octagon
The octagon is not original to the cathedral either, but its construction came about for a very different reason. In 1322 the original Norman crossing tower collapsed. It was said that the noise was so loud that the monks though there had been an earthquake. The sacrist Alan de Walsingham was given the job of rebuilding. He could have rebuilt the tower conventionally, but instead the master mason whose name we don’t know he had an octagonal lantern built of 23 m across. It was a truly mammoth task of engineering, the lantern itself is 12 m high. You can see some of the beams the hold the lantern below.
The view from the lantern down to the cathedral floor is dizzying.
Ely Cathedral has stood as the ‘ship of the fens’ for hundreds of years, and although it is built for the glory of god, I like to look at it as building that is beautiful in its own right regardless of if you believe in God or not. And I think beautiful things are what we need right now.
This month’s post is going to be a quiz, I haven’t done one for a while so I thought it’d be a nice change. The rules are straight forward: Read the question, look at the picture (it will be some type of extra information) and scroll down below the picture for the answer. Keep track of your score-including bonus points- and find out how you did at the end. There are four sections: Easy, Medium, Hard, Evil. Five questions to a section. All of the answers can be found somewhere on this blog, or in posts that will be written soon.
Question 1: Which King of England was known as the Coeur de Lion?
Answer: Richard I: The photo is of his effigy in Fontevraud Abbey
Question 2: What was sealed in Runnymede in June 1215?
Answer: The Magna Carta. The photo is Runnymede
Question 3: What city is home to the medieval cathedral in the photo below? (sadly it doesn’t look like this now)
Answer: Paris: The Cathedral is Notre Dame (taken in 2012 so well before the fire)
Question 4: What is the name of the medieval illuminated manuscript written by monks in a small town in Ireland in the 9th century and now housed in Trinity College Dublin?
Answer: The Book of Kells.
Question 5: What abbey are a significant number of the Kings and Queens of England buried in?
Answer: Westminster Abbey.
Question 1: Where was Richard III buried? (the name of the town but you get a bonus point for being more specfic)
Answer: Leicester. Bonus point if you said either under a car park, Leicester Cathedral or Greyfriars)
Question 2: Which English queen (arguably) was known as an Empress and bonus point for why?
Answer: Matilda or Maud and because she had been married to Henry the Holy Roman Emperor. The photo is her burial plaque in Rouen Cathedral.
Question 3: Which Irish saint baptised the grandsons of the King at the Rock of Cashel?
Answer: Saint Patrick
Question 4: What embroidery depicts the events leading up the Battle of Hastings in 1066 as well as the battle itself?
Answer: The Bayeux Tapestry.
Question 5: Which Granddaughter of Eleanor of Aquitaine ruled France as the regent for her son Louis IX
Blanche of Castile. The picture is Angers castle which she was instrumental in building.
Question 1: Which Irish King was responsible for bringing the English to Ireland in the 1170s?
King Diarmuid MacMurrough of Leinster. The photo is his grave in Ferns Ireland.
Question 2: Which welshman wrote The Topography of Ireland and The Conquest of Ireland in the 1180s?
Answer: Gerald of Wales (also acceptable Giraldus Cambrensis). The photo is his birthplace Manorbier Castle.
Question 3: Which Icelandic Lawman and writer from the 13th century is responsible for much of what we know about Norse Mythology- as he was one of the first to write down the sagas?
Answer: Snorri Sturlson. The photo is of his hot spring at his home in Reykholt in Iceland.
Question 4: What former capital of Norway is home to the castle known as Haakon’s Hall?
Question 5: Where was Iceland’s Alpingi (a sort of early parliament) held?
Question 1: What is the name of the oldest stave church in Norway? Bonus point for the decade it was built in.
Answer: Urnes. It was built in 1150. The photo is of some of the remarkable carvings.
Question 2: Which French king built Sainte Chapel and for what purpose? You need both to get the point.
Answer: Louis IX and to house his holy relics- including the crown of thorns.
Question 3: What date did William the Conqueror die? And where is he buried?
Answer: 1087 and Abbaye-aux-Hommes in Caen.
Question 4: Where is the lighthouse built under William Marshal’s direction?
Answer: Hook Head in Ireland.
Question 5: What castle Henry I imprison his cousin Robert Curthoes in?
Answer: Cardiff Castle
that’s it. How did you do?
Ok you know some medieval stuff
Impressive ish, nearly half way there
11-15: Excellent well done, you might actually have read a lot of this blog.
Stupendous, well done. Long time follower of Historical Ragbag- or a really
impressive knowledge of random medieval history.
(remember those bonus point): Inconceivable!
St Michael’s Mount stands off the coast of Marazion in Cornwall.
It can only be reached by boat or by a tidal causeway.
The origins of the castle are medieval, it began life as a 12th century monastery. The castle you can see today is formed from this original monastery, but the majority dates to much later. It is run and part owned by the National Trust but still part owned by the St Aubyn family who do still live in areas of the castle.
The origins of the rock itself are even older. The rock of the Mount is one of a number of granite outcrops along the Cornish coast. These are the remains of a granite intrusion that rose up some 300 million years ago and has worn down over millennia to the outcrops you see today. Others in Cornwall include St Agnes Beacon and the Godolphin Hills.
Geology aside, legend has it that the Mount was the work of giants. There are several versions of the tale, but one is that it was built by the giant Cormoran and his wife Cormelian. This particular legend adds that chapel rock, which lies between Marzion and the Mount, fell from Cormelian’s apron as she carried it to the Mount. You can see the rock below.
Other stories tell of the Mount being used in the giants’ sports as a sort of platform where targets were laid to be hit by rocks thrown from Trencrom Hill. Looking at the Mount protruding so dramatically, it is very easy to see why it attracted stories of giants.
The Mount was probably used by the local Celts and has been caught up in Arthurian legends and the Tristan and Isolde myth in particular. It has also been tradition that it was a central point for shipping tin to the continent, but sadly this hasn’t been born out by archaeology.
The origins of the current castle on the Mount are medieval. There was probably secular occupation of the Mount before the 11th century, but in the late 11th century the Mount was granted (possibly by Edward the Confessor) to the monastery of Mont Saint Michel in Normandy. The matching names of the two rocks is not a coincidence (but very confusing), their geographical and geological similarity wasn’t lost on the medieval monks.
Between 1135 and 1144 a church was built on the Mount by Abbot Bernard. It is this monastery which is the core of the existing building. The monastery was fortified in 1193 when it was seized by Henry de la Pomeray who disguised his men as pilgrims. Pilgrims were common on the Mount and the path you follow today runs along the main pilgrim route to the castle.
The Mount was re-garrisoned a number of times through various English-French wars and the War of the Roses. The monastery was a casualty of the Dissolution of the Monasteries and came into Crown hands. In 1599 Elizabeth I sold it to Robert Cecil. In 1640 the Mount was sold to Sir Frances Basset and he fortified it for the Crown in the Civil War, the garrison surrendered in 1646 to Parliament and Captain John St Aubyn was put in charge. He bought the Mount from Basset’s son in 1659. It has been in the St Aubyn family ever since. The Mount has seen a number of battles including driving off a Napoleonic ship and being the site of one of the beacons lit to alert London to the arrival of the Spanish Armada.
It was fortified again in World War II against German invasion and Ribbentrop had apparently chosen it as his residence if Germany won the war. In 1954 the National Trust was given part of the Mount and part remains in the ownership of the St Aubyns.
As you can see the Mount has had a long and varied history and any visit to it highlights its complex path. When I was lucky enough to go there in 2012 it was such a wet and miserable day that I certainly got a real feeling of how desolate the Mount can be.
Getting to the Mount is very much tide dependant. Even in the horrific weather, which certainly added to to the drama of my visit, a large number of people were waiting impatiently for the tide to die down enough to cross to the Mount and climb up to the castle.
The castle is very much not alone on the Mount. There is also an active harbour and town. There has been some sort of settlement on the rock for centuries and today 30 people live and work on the Mount.
The buildings that stand at the top of the Mount are collectively known as the castle, but also contain a church and a 19th century mansion. They are all built on the foundations, physical and metaphorical, of the original priory. There is also a Victorian garden clinging precariously to the edge of the Mount. I don’t have any photos of it specifically, it was too wet to get close enough, but you can see the very attractive wilderness in the photo below.
When you reached the castle itself, its immensity is actually quite surprising.
I’m not going to cover every room in the castle, but just highlight some of my favourites.
It was part of the monastic buildings, but from the late 18th century was used by the family for relaxing. What really strikes you as you walk in is how intimate and cosy the room is, especially when you consider the gale which was howling outside.
The Chevy Chase Room:
This area was originally the priory’s refectory, but it became the great hall of the castle. The plaster frieze around the walls is of the medieval hunting ballad the Chevy Chase. The frieze was created some time between the late sixteenth and mid seventeenth century. It has been meticulously restored.
The other highlight of the Chevy Chase Room is the stain glass windows which were gathered from chapels and priories from all over Europe.
The Priory Church
It stands on the summit of the Mount and dates back to the original 12th century monastery, though the current building is very much an amalgam of the decades.
Protected inside the church is a truly beautiful 15th century lantern cross. It is carved from one piece of stone, which probably came from Padstow. The pinnacles are part of the nineteenth century restoration. It has four panels which depict: the Virgin and Child, a king who may be Edward the Confessor, the crucifixion and an ecclesiast who is probably one of the priors of the Mount.
The Blue Drawing Room
In complete contrast to the grand hall, library and the church is the Blue Room which is very late 18th-early 19th century
The room would have originally have been the Lady Chapel of the priory, which by the late 18th century had fallen into disrepair and was rebuilt as the drawing room you see today.
There are other intriguing parts of the castle, but what you are left with most after your visit is an impression of time, and in my case the power of the weather. The Mount reflects many eras and it remains in many ways a family home. It is a place steeped in legend as well as history and deservedly holds its place as one of the jewels of Cornwall.
Site visit 2012
Castles and Ancient Monuments of England by Damien Noonan. ISBN: 9781854106216
Cornwall: A History by Philip Payton. ISBN: 9781904880059
Lanercost Priory was founded in 1169. It was home to a group of Augustinian canons. Augustinians were not monks exactly. Each was a canon, an ordained priest, and they were ruled by a prior. The priory was founded partly as a political act; both to establish a point of Anglo-Norman control and to help demarcate the newly re-established English Scottish frontier. In fact a reasonable portion of the stone used to build the priory was probably reclaimed from the nearby Hadrian’s Wall.
The priory was founded by Robert de Vaux. As well as political considerations de Vaux also probably wanted a site to endow perpetual prayers both for himself and for the souls of his parents. The priory was endowed with both churches and lands and it was both dedicated and founded in 1169. The original buildings would have been largely wood, but due to the proximity of Hadrian’s Wall, and thus a steady supply of already cut and dressed stone, the buildings were built in stone comparatively early in the building process. There was also significant rebuilding works in the mid 13th century.
Lanercost is a small priory, but it found itself at the centre of English Affairs in 1306-1307 when Edward I stayed there. He was in the area to deal with a resurgence in Scottish resistance. He did not intend to stay at Lanercost for a long period of time, however illness confined him there for nearly six months. This meant that the priory was not only host to the king but to a number of leading courtiers and the Queen and Prince Edward. New buildings had to be constructed to house the growing number of attendants, ultimately there was at least 200 people in permanent residence with the king. This is not counting the courtiers that turned up with their retinues. The priory was quite impoverished by having to supply resources to the king for six months, but he did reward them by bestowing the churches on Carlaaton and Mitford on the priory. It took time to secure their claims though, and it was years before they were better off from the king’s visit.
The priory was dissolved in 1537 as part of the Dissolution of the Monasteries, the nave of the church was retained to serve as the parish church which is continues to do today. The remainder was sold as a grand residence. Thomas Dacre was granted the priory in 1542 and converted the west range of the cloister as his residence and the first floor as his great hall. You can see Dacre Hall in the final photo above. It is reputed to be the oldest village hall in England. It was given to the people of Lanercost as their village hall in 1952.
St Augustine’s was founded in roughly 598 by St Augustine, making it one of the oldest monastic sites in the country.
Augustine was sent by Pope Gregory the Great in the late 500s to restore Christianity to Southern England. Christianity had waned in England with the departure of the Romans. In the late 500s England was divided into a number of small kingdoms and Augustine set out with the aim of converting the royal families, deciding that they could then persuade their subjects.
He started in Kent because the king, Ethelbert, was one of the most powerful in the region and his wife, Bertha, was already a Christian. Augustine was successful and Ethelbert converted.
The Abbey was built after Ethelbert’s conversion and it served both as accommodation for the monks that Augustine imported and as a burial place for the kings. It was built outside the Roman and later medieval walls of the town of Canterbury. It also became the burial place for the early Archbishops of Canterbury.
After the Norman conquest the abbey became a standard, though powerful, Benedictine monastery. It remained so until 1538 when it was suppressed as part of the Dissolution of the Monasteries. After it was dissolved it was used as a royal palace by Henry VIII and as a resting stop on the journey between London and the ports in the South East. It was used as a brewery for a time in the 1700s and 1800s and by the late 1800s a missionary school had been established. Today some of the site is still occupied by King’s School. The abbey is often overshadowed by it spectacular neighbour Canterbury Cathedral, but as the site of the re-establishment of Christianity in England and as one of the most powerful monasteries of the time it is in many ways more important.
Bury St Edmunds is one of my favourite abbeys. It was the first abbey I ever saw and the ruins that remain are less romantically dishevelled than many of the other religious institutions you’ll see on this list. There is an epicness to the ruins which is hard to convey in photographs.
As Bury St Edmunds is one of my favourites I have written about it before in detail so here’s the link to the original post
The last two years I have run an advent calendar over December. In 2015 it was medieval quotes, in 2016 it was medieval castles, this year I am doing medieval religious institutions (abbeys, monasteries, convents, priories etc not churches or cathedrals). This means that each day from the 1st of December to the 25th of December I will put up a short post on a medieval religious institution with photos. These will be British, Irish and French and from a variety of religious orders. Some of the places I will have written about before in more detail and some I will write about later in more detail.
I am beginning with Rievaulx Abbey
Rievaulx is a Cistercian abbey in North Yorkshire in England. It was the first Cistercian monastery in the north of England. As this is first Cistercian monastery listed I’m going to briefly explain what the Cistercian Order was.
The Cistercian Order was founded in 1098 in Citeaux in what is now France. While its foundation is complex, essentially it was a reaction against the perceived corruption and extravagance of the older Benedictine monasteries like Cluny. The aim of the Cistercian Order was to return to the original ideals of St Benedict and to live a very simple life. Cistercian abbeys were usually isolated and self sufficient, though the lay brothers did the work on the farms because the monks were cloistered. They lived simply and ascetically, closely following the rule, away from the gold, excesses and luxuries often seen in the bigger older monasteries.
By 1153 over 350 houses had been established across Europe, including Rievaulx. This was at least partly due to the work of the man who is probably the best known Cistercian of his period; Bernard of Clairvaux.
Bernard is not one of my favourite historical figures, largely due to his puritanical opposition to Eleanor of Aquitaine when she was Queen of France. He was, however important. He joined the Cistercian Order as a novice in 1113 and by 1115 was the founding abbot of one of the early daughter houses in Clairvaux. He preached the 2nd crusade, was a councillor to Louis VII and had an immense amount of influence. He died in 1153 and was canonised by 1174.
Riveaulx was founded in 1132 by Bernard to drive the colonisation of Northern England by the Cistercian order. The original buildings would have been wooden, but William, the first abbot, began building in stone by the late 1130s. By the 1160s it was one of the most powerful abbeys in Britain. The abbey was at its height under Abbot Aeldred (1147-67) who was later canonised. Aeldred came to Rievaulx in 1134 and was elected abbot in 1147. Under Aelred Rievaulx was home to a community of 140 choir monks and 500 lay brothers and servants. It also expanded extensively including the building of the spectacular church in the late 1140s
Riveaulx was part of the dissolution of the monasteries under Henry VIII. It was dissolved in 1538, though by this time it had shrunk to a community of just 23. It was sold to Thomas 1st Earl of Rutland. Rutland had the buildings dismantled, especially the lead roofs and the bells which he reserved for the king. Luckily Rutland’s steward from nearby Helmsley Castle kept detailed records of everything that was dismantled.
Rievaulx made very picturesque ruins and was a favourite of the romantic painters. It is certainly still hauntingly beautiful today.