“Rejoice, and give praise together, O ye deserts of Jerusalem: for the Lord hath comforted his people: he hath redeemed Jerusalem. The Lord hath prepared his holy arm in the sight of all the Gentiles: and all the ends of the earth shall see the salvation of our God.”
Isaiah 52, 9-10
Occasionally, the
written word simply cannot convey what transpires inside us in moments of
intense gravitas or emotion. Not because
they are inadequate or unworthy – but, rather because too often we are not
entirely sure of what we are experiencing ourselves and, therefore, do not know
what words to even use. Such was the
initial impression I had as I approached, at long last, the threshold of the
Holy Sepulchre and tread – as so many had before me – upon the ground where a
Godman had bled. It’s a humbling
experience – not knowing *what* to say in a particular moment. So many had come to this place as I had,
endured hardships and privations I could not even imagine, shifted entire
populations, commanded armies, fought ferocious wars, changed history,
permanently altered the entire fabric of humanity, all for this place … and,
suddenly, there it was – wedged tightly between the incredibly old mud
brick buildings, it’s original façade from the 12th Century showing
the obvious signs of its incredibly turbulent past, as if to say to me, “Here I
am, as I have always been – what else did you expect?” I imagine if I am ever fortunate enough to
meet the Godman who died and was buried here in Person, it will probably be a
very similar sort of meeting
.
It is impossible to
escape the history that is locked within the Old City of Jerusalem – primarily because
it is all around you everywhere you go within it. A bizarre jumble of buildings and structures
from over 2,000 years of human habitation almost mold into each other to create
one massive super-structure in which the streets are more like a network of
tunnels. Compared to the sprawling and
modern Israeli-dominated New City, the Old City is like a time capsule, encased
within its walls built in the 16th Century by the Turkish sultan Suleiman,
who some called “the Magnificent.” The
walls that would have been stormed by the Frankish crusaders have long since
vanished – torn down completely in 1219 by the Ayyubid sultan, Al-Malik al-Mu’azzam
‘Isa, who feared that they would only benefit the Latins if they somehow
managed to retake the city.
As it
happened, the lack of walls ended up benefiting a far worse foe, the Kharezmian
Tartars, who completely sacked the defenseless city in 1244 – evidence of which
is still visible today in many of the holy sites from the Crusader era. Scorched stonework, walls and vaults stripped
bare of the artistic adornment they had once had, and sculpture hacked away at –
the legacy of so many faithful who heeded a call to arms and faith and traveled
to the edge of the world has suffered much in the centuries since they stopped
coming.
However, it is not all
lost. The Church of the Holy Sepulchre
is still one of the finest examples of Latin Crusader architecture left in the
Old City..
The "pillow arches" above the entrance are a classic feature of the Norman style of Romanesque architecture brought by the crusaders to the Levant. |
The Lion Gate of the Turkish walls - located just south and east of where the fighters of the First Crusade first stormed the city in 1099. |
Others possess it as well – in the Church of Mary’s Tomb at the base of the Mount of Olives (formerly the Church of Mary at Josephat), the Norman style barrel vault goes straight down into the earth in what allegedly was the tomb of the Virgin Mary.
Many noble crusaders were buried here, to include Queen Melisende of Jerusalem. Sadly, nothing of their resting places remains, or, as with so many sites in Jerusalem, they have yet to be uncovered. More personal reminders of the Crusades can be found too. In the keeping of the Franciscan fathers who serve as official custodians of the Latin holy sites is the sword of Godfrey of Boullion, the heroic Defender of the Holy Sepulchre who would not wear a crown where God had worn a crown of thorns. Tragically, I was not permitted to see this relic due to its recent move from the Latin Sacristy of the Holy Sepulchre to a museum that is currently under construction.
www.pinterest.com |
Seeking out other
sites from the Crusading era brings one face-to-face with the stark realities
of history, both long past and recent.
The al-Asqa Mosque that sits across from the much more famous Dome of
the Rock, once served first as a palace for the newly established Frankish
Kings of Jerusalem and later as the headquarters of the Knights Templar. This site, along with the entire Temple
Mount, was strictly off-limits to any non-Muslims, with IDF troopers stationed
at all entrances warding others away. The
fears of an outbreak of violence, both ancient and modern, was so palpable in
the Old City one could almost taste it.
While on the surface, the sight of Franciscan friars, Greek and Armenian
Orthodox priests, Muslims praying maghrib
along with the wailing speakers of the city’s many minarets, Jewish students
sporting yarmulkes and payot, and very modern Israeli soldiers
all casually strolling the same streets on a daily basis might cause one to
think that the words of Isaiah had finally come true. But the peace is an incredibly uneasy and
tense peace – even in the short time I was there, a stand-off between
Palestinian protesters and the IDF resulted in the death of 12 year old
Palestinian boy just outside the Old City from where I was staying. In keeping with the theme of the vast
majority of its long and strife-filled history, conflict has yet to leave the
Promised Land.
Such scars and ghosts
are visible elsewhere as well. I was
fortunate enough to briefly visit Bethlehem and the Nativity Church there,
located well within Palestinian territory in the West Bank. In the church, originally built in the 4th
Century AD by the saintly Empress Helena, one could see the progressive
shrinkage of the doors over the following centuries in a desperate attempt to
deter marauding non-believers from damaging the site where a God was born as a
helpless infant one chilly night two millennia ago to bring peace to men of
good will.
As I flew out over the coast of Tel Aviv, I caught a fleeting glimpse of the ruins of the old coastal city of Jaffa, where Richard I bravely and brilliantly waded ashore to rescue the besieged citadel and once again embarrass the reputation of his nemesis, Salah ad-Din, during the Third Crusade. In many ways, the deeds and works of the Crusaders in Outremer today are much like the buildings within the Old City – absorbed into a vast historical fabric that tells a tale unlike any other in the world. It is a tale of angels and demons, prophets and martyrs, believers and infidels, of inspiring heroism and craven villainy, of awe-inspiring miracles and shocking brutality – it is a tale of all peoples and the God Who once walked among them. That is what one can still find today in the Center of the World. Montjoie - Deus vult.
As I flew out over the coast of Tel Aviv, I caught a fleeting glimpse of the ruins of the old coastal city of Jaffa, where Richard I bravely and brilliantly waded ashore to rescue the besieged citadel and once again embarrass the reputation of his nemesis, Salah ad-Din, during the Third Crusade. In many ways, the deeds and works of the Crusaders in Outremer today are much like the buildings within the Old City – absorbed into a vast historical fabric that tells a tale unlike any other in the world. It is a tale of angels and demons, prophets and martyrs, believers and infidels, of inspiring heroism and craven villainy, of awe-inspiring miracles and shocking brutality – it is a tale of all peoples and the God Who once walked among them. That is what one can still find today in the Center of the World. Montjoie - Deus vult.
Author’s Note: My many thanks to
all the fans and followers of RCH who have followed along with my
pilgrimage. It was a privilege to be
able to share my meager findings and even less substantial musings with you all
– you and your intentions were all remembered at the Tomb of Christ as promised. I highly encourage all those who may be
considering such a venture themselves to do so.
The Christian communities in the Holy Land, a few representatives of
which I was privileged to meet with personally, are suffering much like they
once did in the years before 1099.
Pilgrims are often the only source of income these communities have and
the maintenance of many of the Holy Sites rely solely on donations left by the faithful. If you have any questions or wish to seek any
advice on how best to pursue such a trek, do not hesitate to contact me. I will cease with my writings as make my way home
through Normandy and England on my return travels, but will still post pictures
or items of interest to our various social media outlets. Thank you again and God bless.
-Rand is the co-founder of Real
Crusades History and Editor-in-Chief for the RCH Official Blog. See the official website for contact
information or reach out to him via the social media outlets for RCH.
Friday, July 15, 2016
A Pilgrim's Journey: Rome
“All roads lead to Rome …”
While no one really
knows who first coined the statement, there has always been a collective
awareness within all European civilizations since the days of the Roman Empire
of the universality and omnipresence of the Eternal
City. It was no different in the days of
the medieval pilgrim and their fighting equivalents, the crusaders. Rome, as the seat of the Catholic pope – the
Successor of St. Peter and the Vicar of Christ on Earth – was a place of gravest
importance to the medieval pilgrim, topped only by Jerusalem herself. As the former capitol of perhaps one of the
greatest empires ever seen in the West, Rome also played a pivotal role in the
spread of Christianity throughout the known world and – after its elevation to
state religion under Constantine – became the seat of the first truly global
institution in world history. What the
Empire had failed to accomplish, the Church in Rome would. As the first principle city of Christianity
(all others came after), relics and treasures of the faith would find their way
there to be enshrined for the inspiration of generations of faithful. In the medieval era, when the faith and its
practice took on an intensely physical nature, these relics were of prime
importance to the waves of pilgrims who would arrive there – as was the chance
to receive a blessing from the Successor of St. Peter himself.
The Via dei Normanni near San Clemente in Rome - allegedly near the route that Robert Guiscard and his Normans "peacefully" passed through the Eternal City in 1084. |
Sadly, this is as far as I was permitted to continue taking pictures - no photography is permitted in the relic chapel. |
http://www.rosaryworkshop.com/ROME-Pilgrimage-Crx.html |
The Manger in Santa Maria Maggiore |
Of course, Rome would
not have achieved the status it did within Christianity had it not also served as
the earthly residence of the popes themselves (except for a brief and
troublesome hiatus in Avignon, France).
The tombs of popes, both the great and the relatively unknown, litter
the Eternal City in nearly every corner.
Many are sadly unmarked, especially those of the popes from the earliest
days of the Church (with the notable exception of St. Peter himself). Even more were tragically lost in the various
renovation and construction projects during the Renaissance – several tombs of
early and medieval popes that once were beneath the old Constantinian basilica
of St. Peter’s were destroyed and their remains consolidated under other tombs
during the construction of the current basilica in the 16th
Century. Perhaps the most painful for
Crusades enthusiasts is the knowledge that among them were those of Blessed
Pope Urban II, architect of the Crusading phenomenon, whose remains were
allegedly reinterred within the vicinity of the extant tomb of Adrian I. As disappointing as that seems, one can rest
assured that he is still remembered in the eternal manner that truly counts and
that is more valuable than any earthly memorial.
Pope Innocent III's tomb in the Lateran Basilica - right across from that of Leo XIII (1878-1903) who had this tomb commissioned. |
One papal tomb that is
still very much with us and certainly pays homage to the Crusades is that of
Innocent III in the Lateran Basilica.
Reigning at a time when many regard the temporal power of the Papacy to
have been at its height, Pope Innocent was perhaps one of the most active
crusading popes in Church history – spending his entire tenure (1198-1216)
calling for multiple crusades to the Holy Land, Spain, and (for the first time)
against heretics within Europe. Many of
his crusades were sadly remembered for their problematic outcomes – especially
the Fourth Crusade that ended in the unfortunate sacking of Constantinople and
the Albigensian Crusade against the Cathars in Southern France. However, it is hard to accuse Innocent of
having ignoble intentions – perhaps just a lack of foresight and possibly pure
bad luck. In either case, his tomb
(commissioned by Pope Leo XIII at the turn of the 20th Century after
the original fell into disrepair) pays a touching tribute to his devotion to
the ideal of crusading – beneath his tomb, in silent vigilance, stands a knight
bearing the Cross. Sometimes, it’s the
small things that make for the most touching reminders of the humanity – great
and small, evil and virtuous – that lies at the heart of this grand and often
overwhelming thing called history.
Stay tuned for my next stop – the Center of the World itself. Deus
vult!
Sunday, July 10, 2016
A Pilgrim's Journey: Tuscany
Even before 1095,
pilgrimages to Jerusalem and holy sites in Europe were central phenomena to
medieval Christianity. Springing from
the intense physicality of medieval religious practice (from whence the cult of
relics also arose), a pilgrimage to Jerusalem was the considered one the
ultimate expressions of one’s faith – especially since such an undertaking in
that time was incredibly costly and dangerous.
The possibility of martyrdom along the route was ever-present,
especially in lands controlled by Muslim powers, and the rigors of the journey
were often viewed as a means of extreme penance for past sins. However, until 1095, only a select few even
possessed the means and ability to undergo such a trek and the few who had (and
who had returned) were well known all across Christendom – like Duke Robert “the
Frisian,” father of First Crusade leader Robert of Flanders and even Robert of
Normandy, father of William the Conqueror.
With the birth of the Crusades in 1095, the idea of a mass “fighting
pilgrimage” came into being that enabled the participation of every class and
social rank in Europe.
However, the various
crusades often followed those same routes used by individual pilgrims long
before. One of the most principal can be
found running down from Northern Italy and through the hills of Tuscany on its
way to Rome, called the Via Francigena
(literally, the “road from France”).
Although no exact date of origin is known, various surviving pilgrim itineraries suggest that the road had been in use from a very early date – like the incredibly detailed account of Sigeric the Serious, who traveled along the route to receive his pallium as the newly appointed Archbishop of Canterbury from Rome in the late 10th Century. The Via Francigena witnessed an explosion of traffic during the crusading period and relics of the crusades can be found scattered all over the Tuscan countryside if one looks hard enough.
Within the great city of Florence herself, there is not much to be found of the Crusades on the surface. Florence during the crusades was initially not much of a major settlement and it wouldn’t be until the mid-13th Century when that city would experience the cultural and artistic flowering that would culminate into the Italian Renaissance of the 14th and 15th Centuries. However, many scholars have rightly linked many of the great advances in art and architecture seen in Italy to the cultural exchanges with the East afforded by the Crusades. The relics of Classical culture preserved by the Byzantine Empire witnessed by the crusaders and the merchantmen that followed them were perhaps the primary influence on the Italian masters of the early Renaissance. Much of this Eastern influence can readily be seen in the great churches and art galleries of Florence.
Ceiling mosaic inside the Baptistery of Santa Maria della Fiore ("Il Duomo") exhibiting heavy Byzantine influences. |
Detail from the Baptistery ceiling portraying two angels wearing distinct Eastern Roman military garb. |
In between Florence and Siena lies the small walled town of San Gimignano. Dating from sometime in the early 11th Century, the settlement constituted one of the major stops along the pilgrims’ road through Tuscany. During the Crusades, it also played host to a considerable presence of the Knights Templar. Founded by returning veterans of the First Crusade, several commanderies and chapels sprang up all over the area, to include the church of San Jacopo and a small commandery within the town itself. Today, all that remains of the Templar commandery within San Gimignano is the façade featuring a Templar cross and other carvings that suggest 12th Century origins at the latest.
Tombs of brother-knights and prominent benefactors of the Hospitallers can be found all over Tuscany, to include in Florence herself.
Tomb of a "Nicholai Bindi" (d. 1333) in the crypt of the Duomo - the shield may indicate membership in the Hospitallers. However, I couldn't find any sources to confirm this. |
Hospitaller (Knights of Malta) church in Florence built in the 1600s. Quite fitting, this church is now the chapel for the nearby Italian Army hospital. |
Apparently, it made such an impression when it was built that Dante even mentioned it in his Inferno, comparing its towers to the giants guarding the edge of the Abyss in Hell:
“As with circling round
Of turrets, Monteriggioni crowns
his walls;E’en thus the shore, encompassing the abyss,
Was turreted with giants, half their length …”
(Dante Alighieri, Inferno, Canto XXXI, 40-45, trans. Henry Francis Cary)
Although the fortress had very little to do with the Crusades, it is a
great example of the sort of fortifications that existed along the famous
pilgrimage routes of Italy and the Mediterranean that crusading pilgrims would
most definitely have encountered. Sadly,
the inside is wholly devoted to the modern tourist industry, filled with shops
peddling kitschy souvenirs to people whose only knowledge of medieval Italy
comes from Dan Brown and the Assassin’s
Creed series.
As with all pilgrims passing through, I am on to the Eternal City
next. Stay tuned and Deus vult.
Rand II ("Strider") is the Editor-in-Chief for the RCH Official Blog
Tuesday, July 5, 2016
A Pilgrim's Journey: Clermont-Ferrand, France
On what was probably a crisp November morning in 1095AD, the sizeable
Medieval town of Clermont played the stage for an event that would give birth
to a phenomenon in European medieval history that would continue for at least
the next two centuries and leave an indelible mark on the development of
Western civilization forever after. The
incident in question came at the close of what otherwise had been a relatively
unimportant Church council that had convened in Clermont by order of the Pope,
Urban II. The last decades of the 11th
Century had seen several such councils, mostly dealing with the doctrinal and
administrative affairs arising from the Church’s recent victory over the Holy
Roman emperors in the Investiture Crisis and the Cluniac Reforms. Pope Urban himself was very much a product of
these movements – his mentor had been Hildebrand himself, known to history as
St Pope Gregory VII who strove with Emperor Henry IV of Germany his entire
papacy to elevate Church affairs above the authority of secular powers. Before he was elevated to the Papacy (when he
was still known by his birthname, Odo of Chatillon), he had been intimately
connected to the Cluniac revival streaming out of Southern and Central France,
even serving as the prior for the abbey at Cluny for a time. Although he briefly had to deal with an
anti-pope, Clement, installed by the ever-troublesome Henry IV early on in his
papacy, Urban was soon able to turn his attentions to affairs taking place in
Christendom beyond Europe. The Byzantine
Empire, still reeling from its disastrous defeat at Manzikert in 1071, had
begun to send out diplomatic feelers towards Rome at the direction of Emperor
Alexios Komnenos. While there were still
considerable doctrinal and cultural issues between the Western and Eastern
Churches of the time, it seemed the immediate threat of the Seljuk Turks might
produce some sort of reconciliation between the two. Urban enthusiastically embraced the
possibility and, at the Council of Piacenza earlier in 1095, had given promises
of aid to the Byzantine ambassadors in attendance.
However, Urban’s
vision went far beyond merely helping the Byzantines recover their recent
losses – he ultimately envisioned the liberation of the birthplace of Christianity
lost nearly four centuries prior to Islam at the hands of knights from the
West. While the idea was certainly a
radical one for the time, it was not wholly new – Urban’s saintly predecessor
Gregory had issued spiritual indulgences for knights fighting the Moors in
Spain and had also wished to send warriors eastward to win back Jerusalem. It was also novel in that it provided the
knightly class of the West – a class often excluded from spiritual salvation in
the rather anti-martial Cluniac vision – with a fitting and even noble role in
the Kingdom of God. With the Investiture
Crisis in the past and the German Emperor relatively tamed, Urban probably felt
that this was the time to make this dream a reality. At the closing of the Council in Clermont,
great throngs had gathered to seek the papal blessing – laymen of all walks of
life and station were there among the clerics and other religious in a large
field according to some sources. There,
Pope Urban preached to them all what would become the First Crusade. Although Urban’s words were recorded by many
different chroniclers from the time, the version of his address in Fulcher of
Chartres (who is widely believed to have been personally present unlike the
others):
"They have occupied more and
more of the lands of those Christians, and have overcome them in seven battles.
They have killed and captured many, and have destroyed the churches and
devastated the empire. If you permit them to continue thus for awhile with
impurity, the faithful of God will be much more widely attacked by them. On
this account I, or rather the Lord, beseech you as Christ's heralds to publish
this everywhere and to persuade all people of whatever rank, foot-soldiers and
knights, poor and rich, to carry aid promptly to those Christians and to
destroy that vile race from the lands of our friends. I say this to those who
are present, it meant also for those who are absent. Moreover, Christ commands
it."
With these fiery words to all of the West – noblemen and commoners, knights and monks, clerics and laymen – the Crusading phenomenon came into being amid shouts of “God wills it!” from the crowd. The rest is, as they say, history.
The actual city that
hosted this pivotal event in history is certainly fitting in many ways. Clermont-Ferrand is located in the Auvergne
Region of South-Central France – a region dominated by what the French call the
Massif Central, a large chain of
low-lying mountains similar to the American Appalachians. Clermont itself is nestled among dormant volcanic
peaks that surround its skyline.
One of the many impressive dormant volcanos around Clermont - these would have most certainly served as a fitting back drop for Pope Urban's speech in 1095. |
The
volcanic nature of its environs is omnipresent – dark, igneous stone can be
seen in all its architecture and hot springs have been used for thermal baths
since Antiquity. Clermont sits atop a
rich and far-reaching historical legacy as well. Roman sources place the Gallic settlement of
Nemossos on the site, considered by many to be the ancient capital of the
Arverni tribe that gave Julius Caesar so much grief during his famed conquest
of Gaul in the last century before Christ.
The last Arverni chieftain, Vercingetorix, is something of a local hero
and his visage can be found in multiple locations throughout the city today.
After the Roman conquest, a new city was
founded and named Augustonamentum
after the reigning emperor at the time, Octavian Augustus. The name Clermont didn’t appear until the 9th
Century, named for a Carolingian fort called Clarus Mons. The Church was
very active within Clermont and served as a focal point for many saints and
bishops of the early Church in France – the council of 1095 was actually the
second Church council to be held there, the first being in the 6th
Century.
Remnants of walls and foundations originally laid down sometime around the fall of the Western Roman Empire. |
The oldest church in the city still present is the
Notre Dame du Port, located on the edge of the old city center near what many
believe to have been a gate (hence the “du Port”). Built in the heavy Romanesque style popular
in regions heavily affected by the constant warfare and Viking incursions of
the 7th-9th Centuries, the church has a distinct fortress
look to it.
Inside, the Spartan look is
enhanced even more by the unadorned and whitewashed walls. Sadly, this highlights another rather tragic
feature of not only this church, but many within France today – the vandalism
and damage suffered during more modern upheavals. Many of the artwork both inside and out was
heavily defaced primarily in the aftermath of the ferociously anti-Catholic
French Revolution.
This damage is
especially obvious in the defaced 10th-11th Century
sculptures that sit above this church’s main doors.
However, some art did survive and the
capitals of the pillars are all original to the structure, sporting intricate
carvings depicting various scenes from Scripture and local mythology.
Below, the crypt gives one a glimpse of the
earliest architecture that can be seen, with a crude vault possibly dating as
far back as the 6th Century.
Enshrined within is a small statue of the Virgin and Child that has been
associated with the local Christian community since the 12th
Century. Although there are no survivng
references to the Crusades, this was most likely the principle religious
building at the time of Urban’s council in 1095.
Virgin's crypt and possibly the oldest portion of Notre Dame du Port. |
Notre Dame du Port was soon eclipsed, however, by the impressive
Notre Dame de l’Assomption Cathedral.
Straddling the main hill and covering the site of the old Roman forum,
the Cathedral was begun around 1248 and, like many grand medieval cathedrals,
was slowly added to over the next several centuries. Built in the characteristic High Gothic
style, its massive stained glass windows, delicate stonework, and soaring
buttresses stand in marked contrast to its elder sister church’s thick walls
and heavy pillars. Another unique
feature is the solid black color of the entire structure, as it was built
almost entirely with the dark volcanic stone characteristic of the local
area.
Again, the evidence of vandalism
is strong here too – entire stained glass windows are missing and replaced with
plain glass and much of the original medieval artwork inside is scrubbed away. Thankfully, there are still a few specimens
that can be seen, to include one that appears to show a crusader in mounted
combat and a 14th Century depiction of the martyrdom of St.
Sebastian that possibly portrays a bow modeled after the English longbows that
were causing so much grief in France at the time. Again, sadly, there are no references to Pope
Urban or the Crusades within or without.
Longbow? Perhaps ... |
In fact, there seems to be very little today of the
Crusades in the city that witnessed the birth of the crusading phenomenon as a
whole. The only ones I could find were
small medallions in the street depicting Pope Urban alongside others depicting
other local greats, Vercigetorix and Blaise Pascal, and a school named for
Godfrey of Boullion.
A lonely and little noticed memorial to a great man and an even greater event. |
Perhaps the
Crusades were never a major focus of remembrance here or, like so many other
places in the modern West, the memory of its involvement in the Crusading era
was deemed too problematic for preservation.
Either way, visiting Clermont – while certainly a worthwhile experience
in itself – can be slightly disappointing for one seeking Crusading artifacts
and references. Perhaps it’s best to
simply imagine what it was like to have been among the throng that November
day, surrounded by the ancient forested volcanic cones of the Massif Central, and hearing those words
that set all of Christendom aflame.
To be continued
… on to Tuscany!
Rand L. Brown II is a Founding member and the Editor-in-Chief for
Real Crusades History. He is currently on his way to Jerusalem on
pilgrimage and will be sharing the experience with RCH members and fans
as he goes along.
Δεν υπάρχουν σχόλια:
Δημοσίευση σχολίου