The Ritual Master Bonjour les amis et Joyeux Avent ! Welcome to the third day of Advent and most importantly, welcome to Paris ! Today’s time travel brings us to the Cluny Museum, home of the national mediaeval collections of France.
Located on the ancient Roman Baths of the city, this was the Parisian mansion of the Cluny Abbey, a benedictine establishment located in Burgundy. With its mix of ancient ruin and 15th century Parisian architecture, the newly restored Musée de Cluny houses one of the largest collections of art from the Middle Ages, crowned by the masterpiece tapestryThe Lady and the Unicorn.
For any visitors less familiar with the exact timeframe of the Middle Ages, their chronological axis is invaluable, since it can clarify where exactly you find yourself in time by setting major events that you might recognize.
The first few galleries you will visit show mostly items of a religious nature, stone statues of saints or angels, precious metal objects for liturgical rituals. Between these treasures, two small reliquaries are most precious to me, as they tell a story directly related to Aliénor of Aquitaine.
Born in London in 1119 in a family of reasonable means, Thomas Becket came into the employment of the Archbishop of Canterbury as a clerk in his twenties. Being a hard worker and a clever young man, he was suggested to Aliénor’s second husband, King Henri II of England, for the vacant post of Lord Chancellor, to which Becket was appointed in January 1155.He did a brilliant job at enforcing the King’s sources of revenue, including from taxes applied to the church, and quickly earned Henry’s trust; who even sent his heir in Becket’s household for close tutoring and mentoring.
Seven years later, Thomas was appointed Archbishop of Canterbury, and his transformation into an ascetic began. All of a sudden, the King realised his interests were no longer Thomas’ priority, all of his demands came after the affairs of the church. A series of conflicts arose between the two men, Becket fled the country convinced of the imminent danger to his life. He returned however, after close mediation by Pope Alexander III and complete assurance from Henry that all would be settled. Upon his return, Becket excommunicated three bishops who had acted as instructed by the king, and so, the conflict was reignited. Although we lack the precise sources, Henry is said to have pronounced, in a moment of desperation, the fatal phrase “Will no one rid me of this turbulent priest?” which was interpreted as a royal command. Thus, four knights set out to confront the Archbishop, and on the evening of December 29th 1170, after his refusal to appear before the King, Archbishop Thomas Becket was murdered during vespers, in the Canterbury cathedral.
Soon after his death, he became a martyr and was canonised by Pope Alexander III. His remains were conserved in box reliquaries known as châsses, made from Limoges enamel. It would appear that some 100 such châsses were made, of which 57 were located. Today you can find them in Germany, Sweden, Italy, the United States, the United Kingdom and France. Two of them are in the Louvre and another two are on display in the Cluny Museum, an occasion to remember, for a now secular country as France, how complicated matters become when the affairs of the state and those of the church become intertwined. This particularly intense episode in Medieval history has inspired many writers, of which we can mention T.S Eliot’s play Murder in the Cathedral, Jean Anouilh’s play Becket, or Ken Follet’s Pillars of the Earth, where a late scene features the murder of Becket.
And if we forget about the ending for a moment, the life of Thomas Becket, the role of the archbishops of Caterbury in English society over the centuries, is somehow reflected in a mediaeval Christmas tradition forgotten today. In parts of Western Europe we find reports of the election of boy bishops, often on December 28th, which marked the feast of the Holy Innocents massacred by King Herod. In England the practice can be found dating back to the twelfth century, when boys were elected as bishops in churches where they would dress up in vestments and would celebrate a mock mass that would include preaching a sermon. Afterwards they would go out in a procession, where gifts of money and food would be offered. Even the English kings would participate in the fun, as historic sources mention. Edward I had one boy bishop say vespers before him in 1299 and his son Edward II awarded another boy bishop ten shillings in 1316.
I find myself more and more fascinated by the activities that brought amusement into mediaeval life, and with each detail I discover, my image of dreary days and never ending penitence is slowly changing. And it’s only the beginning ! See you tomorrow !
