Monday 2 March 2015

Pilgrimage to Canterbury

Canterbury Cathedral nave
Being Kiwi Cantabrians M and I wanted to visit 'the Mothership' with RevD, also born and bred in Canterbury NZ. After R's help with a nostalgic breakfast of Edmund's cookbook pikelets,
we loaded up the kids and the dogs and headed for Kent.  The day we went was cold and grim but inside the Cathedral it was warm and beautiful.
View of the spires from the Mound
Walking into town around the old Roman walls.  The mound may have had a wooden fort in Saxon days.
Approaching the site of Pilgrimage.
Finally at the gate - The 1990 brass Christ doesn't look too happy to see us.  £28 entry for a family.
The happy pilgrims
Dogs are almost harder to entertain than kids on a pilgrimage!
The Dogs' Canterbury Tale:
Locked into the metal mount again
We wove through English terrain
Up the Dart to cross the Thames
Heart in mouth through all the bends
Out to cold drizzle and frozen paw
Chester, without a coat - forbore
Lulu watched from her fur-lined tote
'Til Charlie nosed out a bird to float

The place where Thomas lost his mind
We climbed the wall of Canterbury town
Pulling the peoples up Dane John Mound
For us to howl at the wind and rain
For the pilgrims to face penitent pain
Too soft to naked walk, whipped with birch
As Henry did, his wild words a priest besmirched
Poor Thomas, trusted as the King’s best friend
In the role as Archbishop chose not to bend
From his faith as priest to his sovereign’s will
Drunk Henry did call for his mouth to be still
Four knights galloped through France and on
'Til they found Thomas in prayer, his crown shone
Their swords flashed out and sliced it off to spill
His brains across the floor, no hounds allowed their fill
Dried blood for years to come was scraped off stone
By pilgrims for a relic to heal all the sick at home

Not trusted to restrain from licking or making moister
The sainted shrine, we were banned to the cloister
Visitors patted and petted as they passed looking
At the heraldry and stained glass we thought boring
 
Given a run around the cloister


Stories from inside the people spoke of in wonder
The Amnesty candle burning bright forever
The Black Prince, his head on a lion, a pup at his feet
Anselm thinking God became man in order for sin to be beat
Thomas’ shrine where pilgrim’s knees have worn deep bows
Chichele’s transi, dressed as lord above and corpse below
Henry IV with his wife, Joan of Navarre and his fingers eaten away
All these bones; enough for us to chomp on for many a long day.
 
Edward the Black Prince, a lion on his helmet and a pup at his toes.  He was a tournament champion and a ferocious leader on the medieval battlefeild, proving himself worthy in France and Spain. A terminal bout of dysentery negated his claim to his Father's throne - his young son RIchard III inherited in stead.  

Henry IV fought and won against Richard III claims. He and his wife, Joan of Navarre ruled England.
He may have died of leprosy.  

A fashion swept Europe of tombs that showed the dead person in transition - Here Archbishop Chicele lies in full ceremonial dress but below shows how his corpse will rot away.  Weirdly this was finished several years before his demise and is opposite where he would have sat for all the services in Cathedral. A morbid fascination with death!

We found a dog friendly pub with great food just down the road from he car park.
Pilgrims and dogs with appetites whet, went in search of lunch
The Buttermarket Pub wouldn't let us in but told us to go hunt
The White Hart; we cornered the stag across an old graveyard
And wolfed down the meat, dropped from the table in shards
A generous repast then lead back to the cars through rain
Fare thee well Canterbury until we sniff you out again.

Amazing home made pies and excellent thick cut chips.
A little store right at the back. First view of the enormity.
 A brief history of Canterbury (Kent, England)
Canterbury town looks a lot like Cambridge but with wider streets.  It is much bigger and older. Canterbury began as an iron age settlement for the Celtic tribe of Cantiaci.
The invading Romans built a grid design, stone building settlement and walls.
Under Saxon rule it almost disappeared and was used as farmland until Augustine, with other Christian missionaries from Rome chose the area to be the seat of the first Archbishop of England perhaps because the King of Kent had a Christian wife and it is nice and close to the East coast for European crossings. Several hospitals(housing for pilgrims) still stand from these days, the little Norman castle is a pile of stones beside a park and pay.
later in the Middle ages, Geoffrey Chaucer became MP for Kent and in the next year, 1387, he began the poetic stories about what Pilgirms did during their journeys to Canterbury; his Canterbury Tales were written in English which was not the language of the literate in those times. Chaucer's tales have secured him the title: 'Father of English Literature'.
The Norman Castle
The Danes invaded the town a few times, Brittany invasions during the 100yr war with the French and WWII German bombs did a fair bit of damage and it gave in without a fight to William after King Harold was killed in Hastings(1066). In the 1700s the town was cleaned up, repaved and lit. Wool and weaving, leather and paper making have been Canterbury's traditional industries though out all of these changes.
Several wooden versions of the Cathedral were built and burned until the Normans built the stone one that dominates the town to this day, its impressive stone gateway was built in 1517 but the very dour looking brass Christ didn't sit in it until 1990. The Augustine Abbey and Cathedral have been major pilgrimage sites since the Middle Ages and although Henry VIII put an end to Thomas pilgrimages (by removing his shrine and the loot from millions of visitors) they still bring lots of money into the town today through tourism.
Windows inside the Cathedral - Left: the killing,  Right: The Pilgrims

Part of Chaucer's Prologue for his Canterbury Tales
Translated from Chaucer’s middle English to something more modern 
by RL Ecker and EJ Crook http://english.fsu.edu/canterbury/

Lines 21-26
As I was all prepared for setting out
To Canterbury with a heart devout,
That there had come into that hostelry
At night some twenty-nine, a company   
Of sundry folk whom chance had brought to fall              
In fellowship, for pilgrims were they all
And onward to Canterbury would ride.

Lines 810-858
It was so granted, each with happy heart                 
Gave him his oath. We therefore asked our Host
To vouchsafe that indeed he'd take the post
And function as our governor, to hear
Our tales and judge, and make his judgment clear,
And set the supper at a certain price;                     
Then we would all be ruled by his device,
Come high or low. And so it was agreed
By one assent, his judgment we would heed.
With that, more wine was fetched for every guest.
We drank it, then were ready for some rest                
And went to bed with no more tarrying.
  Next morning, when the day began to spring,
Up rose our Host and roused us like a cock.
He gathered us together in a flock,
Then forth we rode at but a walking pace                  
Out to Saint Thomas's watering place.
Our Host there checked his horse and said to all:
"My lords, now listen, if you will. Recall
The pact, as I remind you, made with me.
If evensong and matins both agree,                         
Let's see now who shall tell us the first tale.     
And if I've ever drunk of wine or ale,
Whoso resists the judgment I present
Shall pay along the way all that is spent.
Draw lots before we travel farther, then,                  
And he who draws the shortest shall begin.     
Sir Knight," he said, "my master and my lord,
Now draw a lot, to keep with our accord.
Come here," said he, "my Lady Prioress,
And you, Sir Student--quit your bashfulness                 
And studies too. Lay hand to, everyone!"
And so the drawing was at once begun.
I'll keep it short and tell you how it went:
Whether by chance or fate or accident,    
The truth is that the lot fell to the Knight--             
A fact in which the rest all took delight.
As was required, then tell his tale he must,
By the agreement that was made in trust
As you have heard. What more is there to know?
And when this good man saw that it was so,                 
As one with wisdom and obedient
To that to which he'd given free assent,
He said, "Since I'm the one to start the game,
The lot I drew is welcome, in God's name!
Now let us ride, and hear what I've to say."                
And with that word we rode forth on our way,
As he began at once with merry cheer
To tell his tale, and spoke as you may hear.





Pikelet Recipe

(Little pancakes often packed off by NZ farm cooks for a thermos tea break in the paddock.)





In a 500ml, easy pour jug, whisk a large egg with 1/4 C of castor sugar until thick.  Stir in 3/4 C of whole milk and 1/4 tsp of salt until evenly mixed. Sift in 1C of self raising flour, gently whisk until a thick batter. Leave it to sit for 10mins.
Pour T of batter onto a lightly greased (don't let the butter brown), medium hot, heavy based fry pan. When the surface of the pikelet is covered with little bubbles, flip it and brown the other side. If the edges of the pikelet are too dark, turn the heat down a little.

Serve with butter or jam and chantilly cream. A perfect morning tea treat.
(Makes about 15 - double the quantities for more.)




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