Susan's Adventures: Sep 14, 2013

Saturday, September 14th

WARNING: This one is LONG! Just let me say from the beginning—yes, I know I have 4 days here in Glastonbury, but I just couldn’t stop myself from trying to see a good bit of it in one day; I’ve waited so long to have time here.

We woke up and headed out around 8am and ate at the café at Morrison’s where I had my favorite from when we lived over here—Scrambled Eggs on Toast with Milky Coffee—that’s what it says on the machine, isn’t that cute. No Jam Doughnut this morning, but the meal was very filling.

Then we walked through town but nothing was open yet, so we decided to head on up to the Tor. Tor is Celtic for hill. The way that was closest to us at that point happened to be the steepest way, but that was okay. The views along the way were gorgeous and it was a beautiful sunny day after yesterday’s torrential rains. We walked the fields and lanes and passed by the Tibetan Prayer Wheels at The Ramala Centre on Dodd Lane at Chalice Hill. These prayer wheels are aligned on the ley line which runs over Chalice Hill and through the centre of the abbey ruins. Traditional, pilgrims turn the wheels clockwise to send their prayers out into the world. So I turned the wheels and sent out wishes to the world for peace and healing.

Dod Lane is where people see ghost monks all the time. They walk through houses, pass by windows, stand in gardens. A famous Abbot was Glastonbury’s last one—Richard Whiting, who was executed as part of Henry VIII’s dissolution of the monasteries. The Abbot’s ghost is said to haunt Dod Lane. “Dod” is an old word for ley-lines. Those who traveled them were called “dodmen.” Sometimes this road was referred to as Dead Lane. It is thought to have been an old processional route from the Abbey to the Tor. Perhaps the spirit of Abbot Whiting takes this path to the afterworld after his grisly execution on the Tor. He and two other monks were fastened upon hurdles and dragged by horses to the top of Glastonbury Tor which overlooks the town. Here they were hanged, drawn and quartered, with Whiting's head being fastened over the west gate of the now deserted abbey and his limbs exposed at Wells, Bath, Ilchester and Bridgwater.

Climbing the Tor was wonderful though tiring. Morning dew sparkled on the grasses in the chill of the morning air. The path we took up was shorter but steeper. The Tor acts as a beacon for approaching travelers and is a sea-mark even today for pilots coming up the Severn. In the old days, it was a custom to place a lantern in the church tower at dusk so that wayfarers in the marshes might be guided on their path. The Tor is also the entrance to the home to the Faery King Gwyn ap Nudd.

From a distance the Tor looks like a pyramid, but the closer you get it looks more like a lion with a tower on its crest. In the round central portion ate 3 great spirals which wind around its cone and are known as the Pilgrim Way—the processional way by which priests of the Sun climbed to high places of worship. The crest was once crowned by a stone circle like Stonehenge, an open Temple to the Sun. When paganism died, the sun-circle was cast down, broken into pieces and used in the foundations of the Abbey.

If you climb at night, the lights in town seem to form a 5 pointed star with the 5 roads that go out of Glastonbury. The Tor is 500 feet high and there are 7 main terraces that form a labyrinth going up—these could be anything from Middle Age crop land to a Neolithic labyrinth. St. Michael’s Tower at the top is roofless and open to the heavens with no doors. There is a plaque with the date of 1360. The east side is curved where it is joined to the roof of the nave of the old church. Gargoyles look out from the 3^rd level. The western side has niches for statues from the 15^th century—St. Dunstan is midway up and below him is St. Michael with his left foot pinning down a dragon. On one side are Judgment Scales and St. Brigit milking a cow. Pilgrims entered through the main door on the north side. Inside the Tower is a power center. The church of St. Michael the Archangel fell down in the earthquake of 1000AD leaving only this tower standing. Most of the statues have fallen from their niches. Strange goings-on have been reported at night with the tower rimmed in light and the sound of chanting from the hill Towering shadowy forms have been seen moving among the ancient thorn trees on the lower slopes and slowly drive cattle and sheep from the heights.

Visitors often feel more hopeful and positive after a walk on the Tor’s slopes. An old map shows that the area that surrounds the Tor was an island with the rest of the land around it as marshes.

From the Tor it was easy to see Chalice Hill. This is the site of an ancient observatory and legend says that Chalice Hill is where the Holy Grail was hidden. We headed down from the Tor on the longer, less steep path and saw a girl dressed in clothes from the 70s and barefoot BOUNDING and HOPPING barefoot through the grass on her way down. More power to you, I say. Carry on. Oh for the days when I could do the same.

Next we went to the Chalice Well and Gardens. Beautiful Yew trees are at the entrance. And there is a Holy Thorn here also, which by tradition blooms at Christmas and Easter.

In the past, this was known as the Red Spring or Blood Spring because of the red iron deposit the water leaves on everything it touches. Many legends are attributed to its waters, not least among them is that they represent the blood of Christ, miraculously springing forth from the ground when Joseph of Arimathea buried or washed the cup used at the last supper. The Chalice Well water has long been associated with healing properties and many reports have been chronicled. The Lion’s Head drinking fountain is the water that is safe to drink as it comes directly from the spring and is regularly tested for quality and safety. It is iron rich so a few sips is all that is recommended.

The Well Head is so beautiful in my opinion. There’s just something about it—its design in wrought iron with the Vesica Piscis with a lance passing through it. It is an ancient sacred symbol of two interlocking circles and symbolizes a union of heaven and earth or spirit and matter. I wore my Chalice Well necklace for my visit today.

The Chalice Well site is where legend says Jesus & later Joseph of Arimathea and his 11 companions erected their wattle hut houses and used Jesus’s house as their place to pray. This well was a surface spring when the land was lower than now. The Spring is older than Christ and the flow of 25,000 gallons per day never alters, neither in flood or drought, and is always ice-cold. Around the well-head is built a chamber of great blocks of stone like those used at Stonehenge. The round well-shaft leads down 15 feet to a bed of blue Lias gravel. ON Midsummer Day, a shaft of light from the sun as it rounds the shoulder of the Tor shines straight into the inner chamber of the well and in one wall is a recess in which a man could stand. There is a sluice to let the water run off so the inner chamber could be entered. This was never a Christian well but an ancient Druid place of sacrifice.

The Holy Grail Chalice stood on an altar of St. Joseph’s Chapel then was hidden in the Chalice Well by Joseph of Arimathea or hidden in an underground chamber of Chalice Hill.

After leaving the well, we went to Tesco then back to the hotel to retrieve our laundry then off to the Laundromat. While the clothes were tumbling, I decided to do some wandering and here’s where I truly logged my miles.

I first visited the St. Margaret’s Chapel and Royal Magdalene Almshouses. This is the place I have tried on two past visits to get in but it was always closed. Now it is open regularly. I don’t want to take any credit for this, but I did write to the officials in charge and did correspond with one of them several times and he ended up thanking me for my efforts. It is a very pretty little chapel. These buildings date back to the 11^th century when Glastonbury was a major pilgrimage destination. It was a Hospital for visiting pilgrims at first then a Chapel. Two rows of Men’s Almshouses replaced the Hospital in the 16^th century but one was demolished in the 1960s and its foundations are being used in today’s garden design. There is a very pretty chartreuse-colored wooden finger labyrinth here but the Templar cross that was supposed to be on the floor covered with a rug was not to be seen as there was no rug or cross. But a very quiet place of peace and reflection.

Much of the legends about this area are summed up in William Blake’s poem, “Jerusalem,” speaking of Jesus when he wrote the lines “And did those feet in ancient time, Walk upon England’s mountains green?” This is the story of how Joseph of Arimathea, the uncle to Jesus, brought the young boy Jesus to England with him on at least one occasion when he visited his tin mines. In past blog entries, I have visited some of those tin mines and other sites associated with these visits in Cornwall, etc. Anyway, Joseph supposedly came here again after the crucifixion and brought two vials with him, one containing water and the other blood which flowed from Jesus’s side when it was pierced. He was said to also carry the cup used in the Last Supper. So Joseph and his small band of followers sailed to England to bring the teachings of Jesus to these people. Upon his arrival, he climbed up Wearyall Hill and stuck his staff in the ground and here bloomed the Holy Thorn tree, which is a variety of thorn tree that is not known in this area, only in the Mediterranean, and it blooms miraculously at Christmas and Easter. The legend of the Thorn is even on the seal of the Abbey where on one side is the Virgin Mary, Standing between St. Katherine and St. Margaret and holds Jesus as a child in her right arm and in her left is a flowering bush. Joseph lived and died here and was buried in a tomb with the two vials of sacred fluid.

Okay, now, in the Church of the Shrine of Our Lady of Glastonbury hangs a tapestry on either side of the Statue of Our Lady. The original statue used to be in the Lady Chapel of Glastonbury Abbey. The tapestry depicts various saints—Richard Whiting, St. Dunstan, and Richard Bere. On the right are St. Joseph, St. David, St. Patrick, and St. Brigid—with a cow and her milking stool. This was a lovely church and in the back of the church were free bottles of water from Lourdes.

Around the corner on High Street is the George and Pilgrim Inn where pilgrims have stayed since 1475. There are 3 shields over the doorway—the left is the St. George Cross and the center is the Arms of Edward IV. The cross was conferred on St. George in this building. This place was originally the Abbey hostel where travelers stayed so that the monks were not infected with their fevers and so the visitors didn’t cause a distraction. It has stone-mullioned windows and erratic floors of huge boards cut from whole trees. There are alleged ghosts here. The courtyard where coaches used to drive in has been roofed over and made into a lounge. Under the rugs on the floor you can feel the irregularities and if you turn them back you can see the deep ruts of the coach-wheels in the flagstones that pave it. There is a Henry Viii room where legend has it that Henry watched the monastery burn. There is an underground passage from the inn’s cellar to the Abbey Gatehouse where secret matters were expedited. This tunnel was once used for a monk’s secret love trysts and, as punishment, he was shut into the tunnel alive when it was blocked up. Some think the ghost monk occasionally glimpsed in the hotel may be him. Whatever the origin, staff here say that guests regularly report paranormal experiences, getting so spooled that sometimes they check out in the middle of the night. Doors slamming, footsteps down the passage, a man in historical clothes walks through the bar then disappears, smell of cigar smoke when no one is smoking, moving lights, unexplained bangs, arguments heard from the small lounge but no one is there. A spectral monk wafts down the passage now and then. Ghosts have even appeared in rooms and complained of the cold then disappeared.

Glad I’m not staying there.

I stopped off in the Pilgrim Reception Center and found a lovely wooden apple made from a Yew tree. Also several good maps and had a wonderful talk with the lady at the desk about how to get to certain places the best way.

Next stop was the Parish Church of St. John the Baptist Glastonbury. I had visited here before but wanted to go again. Most of the church was rebuilt 500 years ago between 1400AD and 1484AD. Abbot Dunstan probably had the first church built on this site long before the Normans arrived 1000 years ago. Pilgrims were coming to the Abbey here from Ireland by 550 AD. And many believe the legends that Jesus and Joseph of Arimathea brought the teachings here 450 years before that.

The tall tower is 134 ½ feet high and was built about 1475 AD. There is a Holy Thorn tree in the garden and a labyrinth to walk. In the North Transept here is an embroidered piece from the Abbey on Joseph’s shrine of about 1500 AD—this is a funeral pall made in 1774 from a cope which was traditionally worn by Abbot Whiting. . The legend of Joseph and the Holy Thorn is shown in the stained glass window here. And there is a stone sarcophagus which I believe is Joseph’s but it wasn’t labeled as such. It is large and its construction indicates that it was made to fit the silver casket of Joseph. It bears the initials J.A. with a caduceus between them. The caduceus is a winged staff with two serpents twined around it. It is used today as the symbol of physicians. Originally it was the badge of Mercury, messenger of the Gods. This is an official badge which would not have been put on a mere common person’s grave.

As the story goes, in 1928, Rev. Lionel Smithett Lewis (late Vicar of Glastonbury) accidentally literally stumbled on a corner of the sarcophagus in the graveyard. The silver casket holding the bones of Joseph of Arimathea was never found. Supposedly there is a plinth inside to receive the silver ark with Joseph’s remains. A glass top used to be on top of the tomb so that future generations could see what was found, but now is taking up that space. There were niches inside to hold the 2 silver and white stoppered cruets and the lid had his initials and, in Latin, “To the Britons I came after I buried the Christ. I taught, I have entered my rest.” This sarcophagus was originally placed in the East end of the crypt under St. Mary’s Chapel in the Abbey. It survived the Reformation. But in Puritan times, fearing the tomb might be desecrated, it was removed secretly and buried unmarked in the church yard of the parish church, adjoining and outside the east end of the St. Mary’s Chapel in that church. That’s where Rev Lewis found it and moved it inside.

The stained glass here shows Arviragus of the Silurian dynasty and a cousin of Caradoc, and 2 pictures of Joseph of Arimathea—one with the cruets and one with the cruets as he arrives and is received by Arviragus.

I may have to go back for a closer look at the sarcophagus.

I did a bit of window-shopping then found some ribbon to tie on the Holy Thorn and went back to the Laundromat. Laundry done, we then headed down High Street, down Magdalene Street, and on up the hill to Hill Head. The winding ancient hill track has ancient cottages built of heavy Mendip stone, some colored, and low doors opening to large flagstones. These are as old as the Abbey. The road over Wearyall Hill is the last stage of the Graal pilgrimage. We walked up and up until we got to the kissing gate to head onto Wearyall Hill. An early Christian settlement here had a monastic building for women on Wearyall Hill near a shrine to Mary Magdalene. Wearyall Hill is fish-shaped. The species of Hawthorn tree that grew from Joseph’s staff is native to Palestine. There is supposedly a stone here to mark the spot where the ancient tree stood, but I didn’t see it. It was placed here in the 18^th century. The thorn was cut down in Cromwell’s day. And sadly, it was cut down again in 2010.

Away from Glastonbury, cuttings from these thorn trees soon lose the habit of also flowering at Christmas. Wearyall Hill is where deer were kept in monastic times. The Holy Thorn can only be grown by grafting it onto a native Hawthorn. It won’t flower 2 times a year if it is grown from seeds or cuttings. Each grafted tree lasts about 100 years. The only places they are found around here are here on Wearyall Hill, at Chalice Well gardens, and at St. John’s. You can apparently also see one in NY Central Park, at Washington Cathedral in front of St Albans School for Boys, in Brooklyn Botanic Gardens, in the courtyard home of Mary Queen of Scots in St. Andrews, and in Toronto. And a spray was sent to America for John Fitzgerald Kennedy’s funeral. A spray is sent to the Queen for her Christmas Breakfast Table every year. Walking amongst the sheep, we found our way upward to see the sad sight of the destroyed Holy Thorn tree. All its branches are gone and it is just a sad stump of a tree that looks like it is trying to come back to no avail. Along with the other ribbons tied on the tiny stumps, I tied a blue one and an orange one. This tree is surrounded by a cage but there is another cage inside which is just a pole of some type with a lock on it, so I don’t understand what has happened. I understood that they had planted another tree from the original cuttings but I don’t know what happened to it. I felt truly saddened by this scene. We walked back down to Morrison’s and had an early dinner—and I had a pudding—any dessert here is called a pudding—mine was Strawberries and Cream.

Whew—I know that was long, but you can’t be any tireder reading it than I was doing it. And in the process of walking along High Street, I came across a shop that was giving away free things, so I ended up with 2 lovely saucers. Now to get them home without breaking them.

Ramala Center & its Prayer Wheels: