Wells Cathedral

Yesterday afternoon we went to Wells. You might wonder the distances of these places we are going to--Glastonbury, Brent Knoll, Wells. They're all within about 5-20 miles of Burnham but on these country roads/lanes, it takes about 25-30 minutes to get to each. Like Glastonbury, I went to Wells 31 years ago. I have a couple of old Kodak prints of a street in the town and the outside of the Cathedral. But I'm perplexed to admit that, once I was inside the Cathedral, I didn't remember ever seeing it before. Menopause or did we not go inside for some reason?? Whatever, I took enough photos yesterday that, barring some technological catastrophe, I won't forget this visit. I've picked some out to put on this blog; I took over 60 photos in all, just can't put them all on or I'd run out of room.

The town (called a small city in Wikipedia and in the local publications, it seems a town to me) of Wells is named for its three wells. One is in the market place and two are in the Bishop's Palace. As we walked up the street toward the Cathedral, water was gushing down the drains beside the sidewalk (for once it wasn't raining). There is so much water that they have to open the sluices from time to time to let it run off. Wells has been a sacred site--because of the water--since Roman times and the first church was built here in about 700 AD. The present Cathedral was built between 1180-1239.

The entrance to the Cathedral grounds. You enter through this gate, called The Penniless Porch because the bishops used to allow beggars to ask for alms here. Nice of them, eh? There was a busker standing just to the side of the porch (out of photo range) singing "Welcome to the Hotel California" in a mock American voice. She was fairly good but not as good as the Eagles. But I wouldn't have wanted the Eagles there in full voice; it would have jarred the peace of the area. Her solo singing was just enough to give a bit of, oh what's that term in painting where a painter puts something in to give it some oomph???

Looking at the front of the Cathedral from across the Green. The statues were originally have been painted and gilded. What a sight that would have been; it's breathtaking as it is.

A close-up of what I would think is the main door although there are so many doors to the Cathedral it's hard to tell. Imagine all the masons working on the statues and niches!

Once we were inside, there was a £3-00 fee to take photographs. Which of course I paid and then made every pence count :)

This is the nave of the Cathedral. Those arches are called scissor-arches and would have been built between 1200-1230. The vaulted ceilings are painted but the painted design was only revealed again in 1844-45 when the whitewash that had been put on the ceiling was cleaned off. More repairs were carried out in 1985. We met a young maintenance man as we wandered around and he told us that there are hidden stairs where he goes up and walks across the very top of the cathedral, above the ceiling. Wow!!

As I admired the arches and the figures of Mary, on Jesus' right and John the Beloved, on his left, a white-haired canon in a gown and collar (a canon is a priest in the Church of England who is responsible for administering a Cathedral) started talking to me. In the case of Wells, there would be many canons. This particular canon, Canon Watson, had also served at Canterbury Cathedral, a Cathedral I've not yet been to but, after seeing Wells again, am sorely tempted to visit. He asked me if I'd like to see an interesting view of the status of St. John.

Canon Watson took me down the aisle to the left of this photo (you can't see the aisle in the photo above but it's a lot like this one)

to show me a view of the statue.

He had particularly noticed it one day and was meaning to take a photo of it. But perhaps I might be interested??

I took one--had to use the zoom to the nth degree and I was shooting upward so I'm afraid there's a bit of shake to the photo; should have brought my tripod. He immediately gave me his card and his Internet address; could I send him a copy of the photo? Hah, there's this priest in his late 60s spending his time meditating and helping people in an ancient cathedral appreciate its age and beauty and we're doing Internet. What a world!! He asked me if I'd send them to him when I got back to Santa Fe but thanks to Sheila's computer and my portable USB, he's getting them this morning. I do wonder how many tourists he's asked for that same view and how many he's received. Probably several :)

I also took a few other shots looking up into the arches--so beautiful. Smooth and how on earth did they carve that limestone all those centuries ago so perfectly???

And the stained glass is magnificent. I have further shots of more of those windows coming up in a bit.

But first, there's the clock. Canon Watson told me about it and later, when we knew the hour would be striking, we came back to hear him describe it more. The original works, c1392, still in working order (Seiko are you listening?), are on loan to the Science Museum in London. The present works were installed in 1880. The parts that you see in this photo are original (meaning c1392) although repainted in the 17th and 18th centuries. It's the second oldest clock. The oldest is in Salisbury Cathedral. Golly I could do a whole holiday just visiting cathedrals. Canon Watson told me that he reckoned that the little guy who falls off his horse during the joust (I took photos, that's the blurry part because I was snapping like mad to catch the 1-minute action) on the hour had fallen off 6 million times in 300 years. It's always the same guy, you think he'd learn.

No, not this guy. This is the guy that starts it all off on the hour; he sits to the right of the clock, up a bit higher. He strikes the bell with his hammer and the knights go into the joust.

The knights.

Things get a bit frantic, the knight gets knocked off and they go offstage to await the next hour. As the Canon said, that poor knight would be quite a liability on the National Health. The Canon ended his little talk with a beautiful prayer for peace and tranquility. I wish I'd asked him where it was from. I'll ask him in my e-mail today!

That's one thing we could forget, as tourists, snapping photos and rushing through. This is a house of worship. People come here daily to pray, on Sundays for their services. Beautiful music is sung here; we heard a few minutes of the choir practicing. Although much of it is ancient, there are touches everywhere--embroidered chair pads, flowers, altar pieces--that are modern, that have been brought to the Cathedral by members who consider this to be their church much as we consider our chapels and mosques to be "our" churches. They feel it as much a part of them as the ancient stonemasons who originally built it. A faith and a tradition, a reverence, continuing. A stability that outlasts we tourists' hurried, if admiring, glances. Something I'm pondering about, stability.

Outside the Cathedral, there is another clock that is operated by the same works. It was finished c1475 and the knights stike the quarter hour.

Halfway through this, are you still with me? If you're feeling slightly dazzled and overwhelmed, imagine how I felt. I went through all of this in about an hour and a half--about as long, if not a slightly shorter length of time--that it's taking me to create this blog. But I am enjoying putting this blog together; it extends the experience for me.

But I'll try to go a bit more quickly now as the morning's almost gone and I know some of you in Eastern Daylight Time will be awake soon and curious to see this--at least I hope you are.

This is the Quire, the oldest part of the present Cathedral, c1335.

Just some of the stained glass windows. One could spend hours looking at the stained glass. They tell stories that 14th century people would have enjoyed "reading" as much as we enjoy reading from our books. Pictures instead of words. Of course with TV, we've returned to pictures, pictures with sound.

Chapter House steps, so worn from centuries of feet that you have to be very careful walking up.

View out of one of the windows in the Chapter House.

As we were leaving the inside of the Cathedral, the inscription on this tablet--there are so many tablets and tombs and such--caught my eye. "As a pastor husband father brother friend he was most sincerely and justly beloved. Reader, thou too shalt shortly die. What is thy hope?" What, indeed? To have people say the same of me would be one.

We had "tea" (I had a scone with cream and jam) and then we walked through another archway off the square (in the first photo) to see the Bishop's Palace. This is the drawbridge over the "moat." But once we were through the gate we learned it would be another £5-50 to tour the Palace so we decided we'd save that for another day. We hope to be back again before I leave.



Two views of the moat. I lay on my stomach to get the second shot. Idylllic, isn't it? Three hours just isn't enough to really benefit from all we could learn from this. Next time I come I won't take as many photos--I'll just come for the peace.