Pershore

The Abbey is dated to the reign of King Edgar in the early C10th, though likely founded upon an earlier C7th  monastery. It had a tempestuous history, in its time buffeted by earthquake, fire, the depredations of malicious dukes and kings. Duke Alphere was a ferocious predator but met a timely end and a horrible death: ‘being eaten by vermin.’ His son, Odda restored what his father had plundered and vowed to remain a virgin lest a son of his should prove guilty of similar crimes. He lived a saintly life and on his death in 1056 was rewarded with a mention in the Anglo Saxon Chronicle and burial within the Abbey. For much of the Middle Ages, the abbey largely prospered, though not without its ups and downs. Then, in 1539 the accusations of a disgruntled cleric gave Thomas Cromwell the excuse to close it down and pension off the remaining monks. 

Little is left of the original abbey, much of it collapsed or cannibalised in the years following the Reformation. In 1913 two large flying buttresses were added to strengthen an almost collapsing west wall.

The Chancel. The altar is largely obscured by temporary seating for a choral performance.

Note the ‘ploughshare’ vaulting, so called because of their resemblance to the medieval plough. 

Note the stone carved roof boss above, one of many, all originally brightly coloured until the Victorians cleaned them.

The stained-glass windows were installed by the Victorians in 1870. One shows the history of the abbey from Saxon to Victorian times.

The baptismal font is carved with images of the twelve apostles. It was rescued from a garden in 1921 long after the Victorians had discarded it in favour of a spanking new alternative. 

The Crusader’s Tomb is thought to be that of Sir William de Harley, a local knight who held  land from the abbey and fought in the crusades. He is famous amongst military armour experts because the carving shows three buckles in his right armpit that fastened his back and breast plates together. It is the only known carving in England that illustrates this feature, and it is wonderful to think there are military tomb obsessives who would have noted and recorded it. Equally wonderful that medieval craftsmen would have paid such attention to detail.

The two tombs are of the local wealthy Hazelwood family, who dominated the area from the  C16th to C18th 

And as for Pershore

Horny Moses

I was intrigued to discover Moses came down from Mount Sinai, not only with Ten Commandments but also flaunting a  pair of magnificent horns on his head. Michaelangelo too, was clearly impressed, sculpting Moses wearing horns that would make a stag proud.  

                                                            Okay, I exaggerate a little

Who else in the ancient world could boast such a fine pair of horns, or to put it another way, what do Alexander the Great and Moses have in common—other than horns? 

My hopes that I’d discovered a Von Daniken style link between ancient leaders and alien intruders were almost immediately dashed. In the case of Moses, it amounted to a simple mistranslation. The ancient Hebrew script for horn and shining are almost identical and so easy to mistake. (garan for shining face, geren for horn. To confuse things further, the vowels were usually omitted) Instead of coming down from Sinai with horns, he simply came down with a shining face. So, the theory goes—largely due to St Jerome who translated the bible into Latin using the wrong ‘grn’ and giving Moses a pair of horns. Others offer more subtle interpretations. 

In the case of Alexander, it was sheer opportunism on the part of the man who had just conquered Egypt, and Egyptian priests who knew a thing or two about flattery. Alexander was clearly the son of Amon, an Egyptian deity, usually portrayed with pair of ram’s horns on his head.

Ram or bull, horns indicated potency and power throughout the ancient world, and in more recent history, Native American shamans were similarly partial to buffalo horns. 

There remains though, one mystery: the cuckold usually portrayed with horns on his head. The word itself poses no problem, coming from the old French cucuault with its root in  cucu ie cuckoo, which lays its eggs in another bird's nest. But why link cuckolds to horns in such a disparaging way?

The answer may have its origins in early Christian propaganda, dissing the pagan world view and linking horns with the devil who from this period onwards is rarely seen without his horns. From the bestial, the satanic, to the hapless husband, horns are no longer seen as an enviable accessory, a  symbol of power – except amongst Morris Men. 

Evesham Abbey

There’s nothing like walking through ruins on a cold winter’s day

Evesham Abbey in its prime

A present day remnant

Abbey wall and its grounds, the surviving parish churches of St Lawrence, and Holy Saints.

A fragment: the Abbey Bell Tower

The 110 ft Bell Tower, built between 1524 and 1532 was the work of Clement Lichfield, the last Abbot of Evesham. The gateway through its base led from the Parish churchyard  to the monks’ graveyard.

Monks were buried in a shroud, placed on a wooden board and placed in a grave with a simple wooden marker. Abbots and rich benefactors were buried in the Abbey along with their regalia.

 The clock at the top of the tower once had an elaborate panorama showing the phases of the moon. Above it were two wooden figures designed to strike a bell every 15 minutes.

Some buildings seem to linger in between worlds as if here on temporary loan. It was a bit like that walking through the remains of one of the great abbeys of medieval England. 

Maybe Eof the swineherd experienced a similar feeling towards the end of the C7^th  when he experienced a vision of the Virgin Mary. There he was, peacefully minding his own business and pigs when Mary appeared in front of him. 

Regaining his composure, Eof  rushed off to Ecgwin. bishop of Worcester. When Ecgwin accompanied Eof to the forested bend in the river, he too saw the apparition of the Virgin Mary and persuaded the king of Mercia, Ethelred, to found a monastery in that exact spot.

 And thus Evesham Abbey was founded, named after a Saxon swineherd and the Saxon word ‘hamm’ meaning land in the bend of a river. Ecgwin for his troubles became a saint.

 All Saints Church side view

Within the grounds of the Abbey, St Lawrence, and All Saints have served as parish churches for the town of Evesham since the C12^th.  They were built for ordinary folk as Evesham grew into an important market town. The Abbey Church was reserved primarily for the use of the monastery and has now vanished along with the monks.

The two churches survived the Reformation, the wonderful stained glass windows a later installation.

In its early years, the Abbey became known for its miracles and grew wealthy from pilgrims. It also had powerful patrons, including Lady Godiva who, presumably fully clothed, gifted a new church to the Abbey. 

Over the next 800 years the abbey grew in wealth and power, until in 1540 it was blown away in a puff of wind—or less poetically—when Henry VIII turfed the monks out in the middle of their Vespers. Little remains of the monastery now, other than the Bell tower, the cloister arch and remnants of walls. Much of the stone was cannibalised by local townsfolk some of which you can spot in the houses nearby.  

Entering the abbey grounds

Remnants of original Norman stone work

                                                      Adjoining lane and buildings

                                                                     And coffee!

 

Lisbon

The ship berthed in Lisbon at a time when the city’s extensive drainage network was being repaired and, as a result, cranes rather than churches dominated the landscape. Carthaginian, Roman, Moorish, it has quite a history despite its infernal hills.

We had a bare three hours in Lisbon, which limited what we could do. Organised coach trips could have taken us to some very picturesque places outside of Lisbon but these involved two hours of travelling , so it hardly seemed worth it. We could have walked into Lisbon from the ship, but my feet still ached from the memory of its never-ending hills. So, with some reservation, we settled on a coach tour of the city. As decisions go, it ranks with Hitler’s invasion of Russia. The coach was small and hot and seemingly immovable blinds blocked much of window, allowing us the narrowest of views. It was like being in a burka on wheels. I saw the bobbing heads of pedestrians as the enthusiastic tour guide enthused on the invisible baroque skyline, colourful frescos, tiles and complex stucco work. Eventually I gave up and dug out my kindle. Unfortunately reading proved impossible, the commentary so loud and overwhelming. We did at least get to see the incredible Jeronimos Monastery—but only for ten minutes and that from the outside.  

 

In 1487, Vasco da Gama and his men spent the night in a run-down church reputedly in prayer before setting off on a voyage that would change the world. His voyage down the coast of Africa, around the Cape of Good Hope—and some years later India—broke the Muslim monopoly on Eastern trade and encouraged the great maritime empires of Western Europe. To mark this, the original run-down church was replaced by the beautifully ornate Jeronimos Monastery begun on January 6^th 1501 and completed a hundred years later. A 5% tax on the African and Indian trade brought in a 150 lb of gold per annum, which meant no money was spared in its construction. 

In 1880, Vasco da Gama’s remains were reburied in their new home.

Freed from the burka, sailing from Lisbon was liberating. Sea and sky, the great River Tagus and four stunning monuments. 

The Monument of the Explorers celebrates Prince Henry the Navigator and the explorers whose discoveries created a maritime empire and made Portugal fabulously wealthy. It’s a 184 ft slab carved in the shape of a caravel with Prince Henry leading thirty three sculptures of explorers and cartographers on the sides of the ship. It is huge. Its interior, which we didn’t see from our ship, has space for an auditorium, two exhibition halls, and rooms above that. 

 

The Belem Tower was built in the early C16th to celebrate Portuguese power and to guard the Tagus and strengthen Lisbon’s defence from any attack from the sea. If you look carefully, you will see the ornate flourishes of the Manueline style and a Moorish influence in its minarets. Without them it would just be a thirty metre four storey tower. 

 

The Sanctuary of Christ the King was inspired by the Christ the Redeemer statue in Rio de Janeiro in Brazil and erected in 1959 in thanksgiving for Portugal’s neutrality during World War II and its consequent escape from destruction.

The 25^th April Bridge is based upon the two bridges in San Francisco. For nerds and quizzers alike, it was once the fifth largest suspension bridge in the world, and the longest outside of the USA. It has since sunk to the 48th longest suspension bridge in the world.

As you sail beneath it, it’s hard to image the six lanes of traffic and a double rail track immediately above 

The Bay of Biscay, uncharacteristically calm

And home at last. Liverpool. God's own city.