Trans. Bristol & Archaeological Society 132 (2014), 97–124

Romanesque Sculpture at Quenington and South Cerney

By RITA WOOD

with an historical note by BRUCE COPLESTONE-CROW

Introduction Quenington church has two magnificent doorways dating from the first half of the 12th century, but their sculpture has never been studied for its own sake. The subject in the tympanum of the north doorway is clearly the Harrowing of Hell; the subject over the south doorway is now shown to be the Crowning of Christ’s Bride Ecclesia. Related sculpture at South Cerney uses the same Harrowing of Hell scene as at Quenington; there it is part of an unusual vertical display featuring Christ’s Ascension. The complex teaching programmes at these two churches must have been organized by a specialist designer, a cleric. He derived the main imagery from the lost scheme in the chapterhouse of Worcester cathedral priory, had an Anglo-Saxon interest in the Ascension, used apocryphal gospels, and added his own design features to standard Romanesque formats. Further sculpture that can be linked to him and which also employed some of the craftsmen who worked in Gloucestershire has been identified at Dinton in Buckinghamshire. It is suggested that Agnes de Mountchesney may have been the patron who forged the link between the strikingly similar doorways at Quenington and Dinton.

St Swithin’s, Quenington The history of the building is obscure, but Domesday Book mentions a priest here; the dedication in the 12th century was to St Mary. The twin north and south doorways (Figs. 1 and 2) are the principal survivals of that period; the date of the sculpture has been estimated as not later than 1150.1 Much of the fabric too is of the first half of the 12th century, but alterations to the windows over the years, the loss of the chancel arch, and the Victorian restoration have destroyed any strong impression of a Norman village church.2 Inside at the west end are reset a variety of pieces of 12th-century sculpture which are likely to have originated from the corbel table, string courses and chancel arch; a corbel of a ram’s head is reset over the north doorway. The south doorway would normally be the entrance used, but at Quenington this side faces towards the river; consequently the church is entered on the north side, where the village lies. Both doorways have a similar amount of elaboration and their relationship is discussed later.

1. Victoria County History [VCH] Glos. VII, 126–7; G. Zarnecki, ‘The Coronation of the Virgin on a capital from Reading abbey’, Jnl. Warburg and Courtauld Inst. 13 (1950), 6. There are reasons for considering a date in the 1120s or 1130s: see n. 67 below. The patronage is discussed briefly at the end of this paper. 2. D. Verey and A. Brooks, Gloucestershire 1: The (London, 2002), 569–71, state that the west end was rebuilt and the north vestry added in 1881–3. 98 RITA WOOD

Fig. 1. Quenington: the north doorway (photo: Zodiaque, reproduced with permission).

The South Tympanum at Quenington The tympanum over the south doorway shows a woman being crowned by a man; she is rather small and not central (Fig. 3). The larger figure must be Christ; he has a cross-halo and is raised up as if on a plinth. In some photographs he can be seen to hold a book in his left hand, but detail over the whole torso was never bold and is now much reduced.3 Christ and the woman are sitting

3. C. Keyser, A List of Norman Tympana and Lintels, 2nd edn. (London, 1927), pl. 130; L. Musset, Angleterre Romane, I, (Zodiaque, La Pierre qui Vire, 1983), pl. 138. The position of the book is comparable to that in the mandorla at South Cerney (Figs. 12, 13). Changes in the condition of the tympanum between the plate cited (c.1983) and the author’s photographs (2009) are striking. Romanesque Sculpture at Quenington 99

Fig. 2. Quenington: the south doorway (photo: author). side-by-side on the same seat, a flat, roughly semicircular area which to modern eyes might suggest a sofa. Unlike Christ’s seat in the mandorla at South Cerney, for example, which is a bench with spiral-patterned corner posts (Figs. 12 and 13), this seat was not developed into any recognizable medieval object. Fitted in irregularly around the couple are the four living creatures of Ezekiel and Revelation all holding scrolls,4 two seraphim, and a building so high and extensive it could be a

4. The eagle of St John strides downward to the left; a bust of St Matthew encircled in scrolls is on the right. At the bottom of the tympanum are the ox of St Luke (left) and the lion of St Mark (right). This order is followed, for example, at Moissac and Angoulême, but reversed (left and right) at Chartres: the flying creatures are always at the top. On the south tympanum, the enclosing form of a roundel may be implied by the rather forced positions of the upper two creatures. 100 RITA WOOD

Fig. 3. Quenington: the south tympanum (photo: Zodiaque, reproduced with permission).

Fig. 4. The Eton College manuscript: the Crowning of Ecclesia (author, after Henry, Eton Roundels, f. 7v.) Romanesque Sculpture at Quenington 101

Fig. 5. The Eton College manuscript: the Crucifixion (author, after Henry,Eton Roundels, f. 5). city rather than a church; its arcaded wall and corner towers suggest it is the four-square heavenly Jerusalem. In low natural light and with suitable artificial lighting, a surprising amount of fine detail remains legible, but areas have been lost or are worn (the face of one seraph, the face and body of the bull, the left arm and book of Christ). The composition is not a standard one, and as a result there is no unanimity as to what it represents.

The Coronation of the Virgin – or the Crowning of Ecclesia? In 1950, in a paper focussing on a capital from Reading abbey, George Zarnecki briefly discussed this tympanum at Quenington and defined its subject as the Coronation of the Virgin.5 Of course, later commentators have almost always agreed with him,6 although one writer has recently

5. Zarnecki, ‘Capital from Reading abbey’, 1–12; figs. 1a, 1c. Zarnecki himself was following earlier writers, chiefly Otto Sinding, see 8, 10. Sinding, and Keyser probably, followed J.R. Allen inEarly Christian Symbolism (London, 1887), reprinted as Norman Sculpture and the Medieval Bestiaries (Felinfach, 1992), 266, fig. 93: Allen’s drawing is not up to his usual standard. The capital was dated toc .1130. See also H. Mayr-Harting, ‘The idea of the Assumption of Mary in the West, 800–1200’, in R.N. Swanson (ed.), The Church and Mary (Woodbridge, 2004), 86–111, esp. 99–111. 6. e.g. Verey and Brooks, The Cotswolds, 570; Musset, Angleterre Romane, I, 368–9. 102 RITA WOOD suggested that the subject is the Coronation of the Bride, that is, ‘the allegorical union of the church as the Bride with the Bridegreoom, Christ, and in the tropological or moral sense the union of each Christian soul with God’.7 The present writer also takes that view. The imagery of the south tympanum at Quenington has for a long time been recognized as linked in some way to a large decorative scheme that once furnished the chapterhouse of Worcester cathedral priory.8 The building is thought to have been devised c.1100 and completed by 1125; its coeval decorative scheme – medium or media unknown – was destroyed when larger windows were inserted and the ceiling raised in the 14th century. All that survives now of the decoration is a copy made c.1200 of the Latin texts that accompanied each of its 40 scriptural and typological motifs; the verses have a short introduction describing the effect and purpose of the imagery. Sandy Heslop discusses the scheme as being arranged in 40 roundels all painted on the ceiling and Neil Stratford thinks it equally possible that the cycle could have filled the ten windows.9 The present writer thinks it is worth considering whether the imagery might not have been shared between ceiling and windows: the foreshadowings painted on the ceiling would be illuminated in all senses by the New Testament subjects in the windows. This situation may indeed be hinted at in the Latin introduction to the verses, for example, where it speaks of the shadow of the Law, and later of the sun of Justice. In the final four lines about Mary, the Nativity scene need not be taken as literally ‘painted’, but as depicted or illustrated. The remnants of the building as analysed and reconstructed by Robert Willis allow for a single round-headed window of c.2.4 × c.1.0 m in each of the ten bays.10 The possible incorporation of the windows in the decorative scheme at Worcester is relevant later in this article. Valuable information about the 40 lost illustrations can be deduced from an early 13th-century manuscript in Eton College Library which is complete with similar texts and related imagery; additionally, some scenes and texts appear on three ciboria of c.1150–75.11 The Worcester scheme consisted of ten New Testament subjects and 30 associated types; the Eton manuscript contains the same material in the same order; 19 of the 40 subjects also appear on the ciboria. There is a roundel on folio 7v. of the Eton manuscript (Fig. 4) which resembles the tympanum over Quenington’s south doorway, making the Quenington sculpture much the earliest of the known derivatives of the Worcester chapterhouse programme. Heslop accepts the interpretation of the south tympanum at Quenington proposed by Zarnecki; but he sees the Worcester scheme and the Eton manuscript as also depicting the Coronation of the Virgin, which is not supported by the evidence.12 Representations of the Coronation of the

7. M. Phythian-Adams, ‘ “Look at the pictures so that you may see what may be their secret” – signs and symbols of the plan of salvation in the 12th century at St Mary’s, Iffley’,The Friends of St Mary’s, Iffley, Annual Rep. 2007, 3–26; on Quenington, see 10, 18, 19. 8. R. Willis, Architectural History of some English Cathedrals; a collection… of papers delivered during the years 1842–1863, reprinted in 1973, 218ff. ; N. Stratford, ‘Notes on the Norman chapterhouse at Worcester’, in A. Borg (ed.), Medieval Art and Architecture at Worcester Cathedral (Leeds, 1978), 51–70; pls. VIII–X; T.A. Heslop, ‘Worcester cathedral chapterhouse and the Harmony of the Testaments’, in P. Binski and W. Noel (eds.), New Offerings, Ancient Treasures: Studies in Medieval Art for George Henderson (Stroud, 2001), 280–311 (for date, see 296–8); T.A. Heslop, ‘The English Origins of the Coronation of the Virgin’, Burlington Mag. 147 (2005), 790–7 (for date, see 792–6). 9. N. Stratford, ‘Three English Romanesque enamelled Ciboria’, Burlington Mag. 126 (1984), 214–15. 10. Willis, Archit. Hist. 219; Figs. 12 and 13. 11. See A. Henry, The Eton Roundels: Eton College MS 117 (‘Figurae bibliorum’) (Aldershot, 1990); Stratford, ‘Ciboria’, 204–16, also G. Zarnecki et al. (eds.), English Romanesque Art, 1066–1200 (London, 1984), items 278–81. 12. The separate subject of the Crowning of Ecclesia is not considered by Heslop in either paper. Romanesque Sculpture at Quenington 103

Virgin became popular in the late 12th century; the origins of the concept are obscure but it was first set out openly in the early 12th century in commentaries on the Song of Songs by Rupert of Deutz,13 and shortly afterwards in two works by Honorius Augustodunensis.14 These writers challenged the traditional interpretation of the Song of Songs, which goes back at least to Gregory the Great and which saw the book as an allegory of the love between Christ and the Church: the innovators applied it to Christ and Mary. It has been suggested that Honorius wrote the Sigillum Beatae Mariae at Worcester,15 and that it is possible to associate features of the chapterhouse and its decorative scheme with the radical views expressed by Honorius.16 However that may be, the texts recorded c.1200 from the Worcester chapterhouse and those used around the images in the Eton manuscript follow the traditional interpretation of the Song of Songs.17 While not challenging Zarnecki’s interpretation of the Reading abbey capital, the present author believes his brief assessment of the subject of the tympanum at Quenington is open to question. Neither the Worcester list nor the Eton College manuscript were mentioned by Zarnecki in 1950: had they been known to him they would no doubt have extended his discussion of the Quenington scene and refined his ideas about it, for both those sources explicitly state the subject of their equivalent scene is the Crowning of the Bride and they say nothing of the Coronation of the Virgin. When the texts in the chapterhouse were copied c.1200, the title given to the relevant section of the decoration, but perhaps not part of the original scheme, is De Christo et Ecclesia. Moreover, the Eton manuscript maintains the distinction between Mary and Ecclesia. This later witness to the subject-matter is significant, for by the end of the 12th century the Coronation of the Virgin was an established subject and could have been named openly. Ecclesia is the spiritual ideal, the antitype: Mary in some aspects may be a human foreshadowing or type for Ecclesia. A clear distinction between the two characters is seen c.1170 in the Hortus Deliciarum, where both appear in the Crucifixion tableau: Ecclesia rides on an animal composed from the four living creatures (the evangelists on which she depends), and is paired with Synagoga, another allegorical figure; nearby, the human Mary and John stand mourning either side of the Cross.18 Similarly, while the Coronation or Triumph of the Virgin would include a recognizable chair-like throne and perhaps even human interaction with her son,19 by contrast, Ecclesia, a personification, would be characterized symbolically. Thus the interpretation of the female figure in the tympanum at Quenington as the allegory Ecclesia would explain her smaller size compared to that of Christ since it would symbolize the dependence of the Church: there is no such unnatural difference in scale between Christ and his mother in depictions of the Coronation of the Virgin.

13. Song of Songs, otherwise, Canticles. A.W. Astell, The Song of Songs in the Middle Ages (Ithaca, 1999), 43–4. 14. E.A. Matter, The Voice of My Beloved: the Song of Songs in Western Medieval Christianity (Philadelphia, 1990), 58. For analysis of the Sigillum, see ibid., 58–85. 15. Heslop, ‘English Origins’, 792, n. 17, where he follows V.I.J. Flint. 16. Ibid. 790–6. 17. The combined term ‘Mary/Ecclesia’ is used throughout his earlier paper by Heslop, but without justification. A statement of Honorius Augustodunensis from his Sigillum Beatae Mariae (quoted in Heslop ‘English Origins’, 792, n. 19) says: ‘the glorious virgin Mary is a symbol for the Church… therefore all things which are written about the Church are read congruously enough about her too’ (trans. P.L. Wood). However, the obvious functions of Ecclesia in the Worcester scheme are spiritual and clearly distinct from those of Mary, temporal. 18. R. Green et al. (eds.), Herrad of Hohenburg: Hortus Deliciarum, II (1979), f. 150; G. Cames, Allégories et Symboles dans l’Hortus Deliciarum (Leiden, 1971), figs. 41, 42, 92. See also n. 26 below. 19. Zarnecki ‘Capital from Reading abbey’, figs. 1a, 2f, 3b. The ‘Triumph of the Virgin’ in mosaic at Sta. Maria in Trastevere, Rome, c.1140–8, shows Christ with his arm round his mother’s shoulder. 104 RITA WOOD

A change of medium necessarily causes changes in imagery: the wide-ranging and immediate visual cross-referencing possible in the circular chapterhouse is lost when the images are transferred to the book format of the Eton roundels.20 The appropriation of Worcester material for use on English ciboria in the second half of the 12th century also meant alterations: the artists did not copy their model exactly, they edited and adapted the imagery to their own purposes, rewriting texts, selecting certain illustrations and disregarding others.21 Similarly, even if allusions to the Coronation of the Virgin might have been generated in the mind of informed monks in the chapterhouse, it is unlikely that a hidden and contentious subtext would have been transferred to a village church, where it would only confuse (what will be shown to be) a straightforward orthodox message. The scene on the south tympanum at Quenington, isolated and, so far as we can tell, without accompanying text, relies entirely on its own imagery for its interpretation.

The Church, the Bride of Christ The Crowning of Ecclesia as the Bride of Christ is an allegory of the end of time, figuring the union of faithful souls with God in heaven. The idea of close union between Christ and the Church Triumphant was based in scripture,22 and frequently developed by mystics. The Marriage of the Lamb (Christ) is announced in Revelation 19:7–9, while the imagery seen around the central couple in the tympanum – the four living creatures, the angels and the heavenly city – is characteristic of the book of Revelation in general. In its traditional interpretation, the Old Testament book, the Song of Songs, otherwise known as Canticles, also fed the allegory of this marriage.23 Hugh of St Victor (d. 1131) described the Song of Songs as ‘the epithalamium or marriage song of Christ and the Church’.24 In the Crucifixion roundel in the Eton manuscript (Fig. 5), Ecclesia holds a wide but shallow chalice and catches the blood from the wound in the side of Christ as he hangs on the Cross. This symbolic act is frequently depicted, and a chalice is the usual attribute of Ecclesia.25 While the shallow chalice depicted in Figure 5 would have been efficient in catching blood spraying

20. Heslop, ‘Worcester cathedral chapterhouse’, 288. 21. Stratford, ‘Three Romanesque Ciboria’, 204–16. 22. e.g. one metaphor of intimate union used by St Paul is of Christ’s Head and Body (Ephesians 4:16); it is used in the Worcester verses on the Ascension: ‘Where, as your head, I ascend, you, my limbs, come following.’ And see n. 24 below. 23. The original verse describing the particular imagery comparable to the Quenington tympanum read ‘Dote subarrata fidei meritisque sacrata/ Sponsa coronatur sponsoque deo sociatur’, that is, ‘Secured [or, mortgaged] by the dowry of faith and devoted to good deeds, she is crowned as a bride and is joined to a divine bridegroom’ (trans. P.L. Wood). See also Heslop ‘Worcester cathedral chapterhouse’, 307; Henry, Eton Roundels, 136, 164. Sponsa and Sponsus, Bride and Bridegroom, are the medieval names for the main characters in Canticles: they were understood to be Ecclesia and Christ. 24. The Didascalicon of Hugh of St Victor, a medieval guide to the Arts, trans. and intro. by J. Taylor (1961), 110, quoting bk. 4 ch. 8. Hugh also wrote De Arrha Animae or The Soul’s Betrothal-Gift, in which a man encourages his soul to prepare for her heavenly union with Christ. 25. e.g. Hortus Deliciarum f. 150; also Hildegard of Bingen, Scivias, the 6th vision of the second part, A. Fuhrkotter (ed.) Hildegardis Scivias (Turnhout, 1978), colour pl. facing 228. Commenting on this vision and the Eucharist, Hildegard uses Mary as a type of Ecclesia: ‘As the Body of the Only Begotten of God sprang up in purity in the womb of the Virgin Mary and then was handed over for the salvation of people, so even now this body has grown in the uncorrupted purity of the church and is given for the sanctification of the people.’ Trans. fromScivias by Hildegard of Bingen, 2.6.4, trans. B. Hozeski (Santa Fe, 1986), 132. Romanesque Sculpture at Quenington 105

Fig. 6. Quenington south tympanum: detail of the woman from the front (photo: author). from the wound, that was never a practical shape for liturgical use. A medieval chalice has a hemispherical bowl, or of taller proportion if for a large number of people, the shape resembling that of a common beaker.26 Such a form can be seen on the tympanum between the woman’s head and hands (Figs. 6–8); the tall, tapering bowl is in outline, flat, of course; there is a flaw or other damage passing diagonally right across it near the top, shown by the pecked line in both views in Figure 8. It is possible to read the hands of the woman as holding the stem and foot of a chalice, although the overall wear and the undirected lighting make the details of the fingers a little difficult to distinguish. The woman’s sleeved lower left arm emerges directly out from

26. A similar tall chalice stands ready to receive the blood of the knight who fights a dragon (Christ fights Death; the Crucifixion), see R. Wood, ‘The Romanesque memorial at Conisbrough’,Yorks. Archaeol. Jnl., 73 (2001), 48, 50; fig. 5 c( .1160). These two capacious beaker-shaped chalices might suggest that the laity were still receiving communion in both kinds (wine as well as bread) in in the mid 12th century. The occasions on which the laity communicated were rare anyway, and during the century the wine was withdrawn from them. But in any case, the chalice was the centre-piece of worship and venerated by all at the elevation, an action introduced some time in this period. See T.F. Simmons (ed.), The Lay Folks Mass Book (Early Eng. Text Soc. 71, 1879), text B lines 235–6; p. 225; F.L. Cross, The Oxford Dictionary of the Christian Church (Oxford, 1997), 386–7. 106 RITA WOOD

Fig. 7. Quenington south tympanum: detail of the woman from the side (photo: author). Romanesque Sculpture at Quenington 107

Fig. 8. Quenington south tympanum: diagrams over Figs. 6 and 7 (photos: author). 108 RITA WOOD the background; her left hand curves round as if the fingers were laid on the knop in the centre of the stem of a chalice; her right hand supports the weight. The formal position of the parallel fingers, without any appearance of effort, is typical of hands that hold liturgical vessels.27 The identification of the bowl of a chalice, together with the position of the hands, make clear that the tympanum depicts the Crowning of Ecclesia. In the Eton roundels depiction of the Coronation of Ecclesia (Fig. 4), Christ’s sleeved right arm emerges from a loose wrap over his shoulders; the clothing opens in an odd slit on his right side, showing what might be an accidental mark – or perhaps the wound (John 19:34), the source of the blood for Ecclesia’s chalice. A similar forced arrangement of clothing occurs in a manuscript contemporaneous with the tympanum, the St Albans Psalter: in the doubting Thomas episode the wound is clear to see.28 Consequently, with the wound deliberately shown, the Eton Roundel is also likely to depict Ecclesia seated with Christ. If the same details occurred at Worcester, it would seem that the chapterhouse scheme also showed the Bride Ecclesia in the carriage with Christ. Unfortunately, exploration of the Quenington carving for any sign of the wound would probably be inconclusive as the stone is so worn. In the Eton roundel (Fig. 4), Ecclesia holds up empty hands in amazement or acknowledgement; a chalice is not mentioned in the associated texts, which concentrate on typology.29 In the early 12th century, at a village church, it would have been sufficient to show the two seated figures and the crown to stage the marriage, adding the four living creatures and the angels to set the scene in heaven. The chalice was not necessary, but it was included, deliberately, purposefully. Unique sculpture of complexity and spiritual depth like this is not likely to have been designed by its sculptor, but is typically the work of a specialist designer, inevitably a cleric with the necessary learning and with access to a wide range of models.30 The designer here is converting a learned monastic composition for use at a village church; he is conscious of the gap between the two audiences. The designer helps the villagers to understand his meaning by introducing the chalice: it is something familiar. It is the focus of their worship in the church: to see it on the tympanum draws them into the scene in heaven. Ecclesia personifies the Church in heaven.

The Quadriga of Aminadab Some deeper analysis of the ‘sofa’ should be attempted. The Reading abbey carving of the Coronation of the Virgin shows a throne which has a standard framework of turned wood,31 the bench on which Christ sits at South Cerney has a wooden frame, and many other depictions of actual thrones and chairs exist for this period, but at Quenington there is neither ornamentation of the surface nor variation of the smooth outline, no hint of the characteristic corner posts or cushion. If a chair of some sort had been intended, it is surprising that it is not signalled to the viewer.32 In short,

27. P. Lasko, Ars Sacra 800–1200 (Harmondsworth, 1972), pl. 155. 28. J. Geddes, The St Albans Psalter: a book for Christina of Markyate (London 2005), pl. 43. The Incredulity of St Thomas, p. 52 of the Psalter (c.1120–40). 29. Henry, Eton Roundels, 164. 30. Other complex schemes necessitating a clerical designer have been studied at, for example, Malmesbury abbey and Newport cathedral. See R. Wood, ‘Malmesbury abbey: the sculpture of the south entrance’, Wilts. Archaeol. and Natural Hist. Mag. 91 (1998) 42–56; R. Wood, ‘The Occupatio of St Odo of Cluny and the porch sculpture at Malmesbury abbey’, Wilts. Archaeol. and Natural Hist. Mag. 102 (2009), 202–10; J.K. Knight and R. Wood, ‘St Gwynllyw’s cathedral, Newport: the Romanesque archway’, Archaeologia Cambrensis 155 (2006), 163–85. 31. Zarnecki, ‘Capital from Reading abbey’, fig. 1a, 2e, or Heslop ‘English Origins’, fig. 1. 32. cf. Heslop, ‘English Origins’, 796. Romanesque Sculpture at Quenington 109

Fig. 9. Glass panel from Saint-Denis: the Quadriga of Aminadab (author, after Mâle, The Gothic Image, fig. 94). though clearly Christ and Ecclesia are seated, it is not possible to recognize on what they actually sit. Their immediate context, surrounded by the four living creatures, presents them as symbolically enthroned, since the primary office of the creatures is to transport the throne of God (Ezekiel 1:4– 21) – but this still leaves unanswered the question as to the actual nature of the seat. Having demonstrated that Christ is seated beside Ecclesia, it seems safe to continue with the long-established medieval interpretation of the Song of Songs, and to see the ‘sofa’ together with the four living creatures as some version of the quadriga or chariot referred to in the Vulgate, which speaks of ‘quadrigas Aminadab’ (Canticles 6:12).33 As Marvin Pope says, ‘the chariot(s) provided considerable mileage in several directions’ for medieval exegetes. Christ and Ecclesia, separately, could be shown in vehicles drawn by the four evangelists, an allegory for the rapid spread of the gospel over the known world; if Christ and Ecclesia appeared together in the chariot, then the allegory of their marriage might be represented.34 It has been noted by previous writers that the

33. The quadriga was a four-horse chariot used by the Romans. This verse in Canticles is especially difficult to translate: see e.g. M.H. Pope, Song of Songs: a New Translation with Introduction and Commentary (New York, 1977), 584–5, 592. 34. Ibid. 592. For the medieval history of the allegory and its application in Venice and in northern Europe, see M. Jacoff, The Horses of San Marco and the Quadriga of the Lord (Princeton, 1993). 110 RITA WOOD

Eton College version of the carriage (Fig. 4) resembles a cart in a panel from Saint-Denis labelled ‘quadrige Aminadab’ (Fig. 9).35 While admittedly the Quenington carriage is unparalleled in its formlessness, the presence of the four living creatures around it and of the Bride and Bridegroom seated in the centre suggest it too is supposed to represent the quadriga in Canticles. Neither of the carriages illustrated are functional vehicles, but we can understand their nature from the minimum information given: the impracticality is very evident in the Quenington throne too, but its model is so far unrecognizable. A medieval artist had at least three models available for depicting the quadriga carrying Christ and his Bride. These models were: Ezekiel’s visionary description of a vehicle transporting God; a familiar medieval cart; a Roman chariot. Ezekiel’s vision describes the throne of God as capable of being carried in any direction by the four living creatures, and this could have encouraged the simplified, loose arrangement of the animals and wheels illustrated in Figures 3, 4 and 9. Secondly, the conventional medieval view of a cart would show it from the side in profile so that the essential working parts were distinct: this would account for the odd perspective of the box-like carts of Eton and Saint-Denis (Figs. 4 and 9).36 Such carts are shown with only one of their two wheels, so perhaps one wheel was painted in the plain area below Christ’s feet.37 Thirdly, it is possible that a surviving Roman object provided the model. The most spectacular survival of a chariot was a monumental bronze of a quadriga in the Hippodrome in the heart of Constantinople; this would have been known in the 12th century because the statue was not broken up until after 1204 when the horses were taken to Venice.38 A source more easily available in Worcester itself could be Roman objects unearthed in the city.39 On the reverse of some Roman coins, for example, a quadriga is shown from the side, with a slight angle of perspective so that the second wheel just shows behind the first and the four horses succeed each other ‘by a nose’. A medieval artist would reduce this to a one-wheeled vehicle, and because of continuity in forms of transport, the Roman and the medieval depictions can be very similar, and either could have yielded the quadriga with box-like cart as on the Eton roundel; the dispersed four living creatures, of course, must replace the four parallel horses. A different, more dramatic, view of the quadriga was occasionally taken in classical times, and later on silks: it was shown from the front, symmetrically.40 This view could perhaps have given rise to the ill-defined object on the tympanum at Quenington. The approximate semicircle of the ‘sofa’ could represent the bow-fronted car of a chariot, with the

35. Suger was abbot of Saint-Denis 1121–51: L. Grodecki, Les Vitraux de Saint-Denis, I (Paris, 1976), colour pl. V, 63, 100, 200. The quadriga in this instance carries the New Covenant, an allusion to 2 Samuel 6:2–3 (the Ark of the Covenant transported in the cart of the man Abinadab). 36. The Oseberg ship burial has tapestry fragments with such carts: see R.N. Bailey, Viking Age Sculpture (London, 1980), pl. 34. The illustrated manuscripts of the works of Honorius Augustodunensis depict brides in box-like carts: see The Year 1200: a centennial exhibition at the Metropolitan Museum of Art (New York, 1970), 286, lower fig.; or Cames,Allégories , fig. 43; or Matter, Voice of My Beloved, pl. 2. 37. It is possible that texts were painted in this space and in the empty corners of the north tympanum, but, equally, missing elements of the iconography of the Eton manuscript and the Balfour ciborium (wheel; doors) could have been painted in the blanks. One wheel is not uncommon: see Henry, Eton Roundels f. 6v.; Cames, Allégories, fig. 60 Hortus( Deliciarum f. 203v.). The four wheels in Figure 15 attempt to represent Ezekiel’s vision, in which the animals are combined in some way with wheels. 38. The ‘life-size’ horses from this quadriga are in Venice, inside St Mark’s since 1983 because of pollution. The complete vehicle would have been very impressive. See n. 34 above. 39. A capital of the chancel arch at Lullington, Somerset, 10 miles from Bath, has two wreathed human heads in profile. There can be no doubt that these were inspired by the find of a Roman coin. 40. An 8th-century silk from the tomb of Charlemagne in Aachen: E. Hartley et al. (eds.), Constantine the Great: York’s Roman Emperor (York, 2006), item 102; J. Beckwith, Early Christian and Byzantine Art (London, 1979), ill. 145, 172–7; or D.T. Rice, Art of the Byzantine Era (London, 1963), illus. 61. Romanesque Sculpture at Quenington 111 rectangle below Christ’s feet perhaps representing its harnessing gear, all seen from the front. The row of four horses would have concealed most of the box of the quadriga where the driver and passenger stood, which could explain the vagueness of the sculpted form. Despite the lack of structure, the symmetry of the design could have been decisive in choosing it for this scene in heaven. It is suggested that someone at Worcester priory searching for the best representation of the Vulgate text for the chapterhouse decoration might have turned up a sketch of the statue in Constantinople, or might have acquired a frontal representation of a chariot from Roman levels in Worcester itself. The Quenington tympanum, close in date to the chapterhouse scheme, could have preserved its depiction of a Roman chariot seen symmetrically from the front. However, the model was misunderstood, or fundamentally inadequate: the wedding couple do not stand behind the bow-fronted box where the charioteer would have stood, but they sit in front of the curve delineating it. No other illustration for Canticles or its commentaries seems to have attempted this dramatic view of a quadriga: all depict a box-like cart seen from the side.

The Crowning of the Bride In the tympanum, Christ is in the act of putting a crown on Ecclesia’s head. The crown makes many references, most pertinently, to dressing for a wedding. In Old Testament times, as in some cultures nowadays, it was customary for both bride and groom to wear a crown (Canticles 3:11; Ezekiel 16:9–14). Secondly, the New Testament epistles refer to a crown being given to every faithful soul in the after-life;41 the crowning of Ecclesia, who represents the totality of the elect, partakes of this symbolism too. The chariot is something of a triumphal car for her, on the lines of a Roman triumph in which the victor was crowned with laurels on entering the city, here the heavenly Jerusalem. An allusion to a triumphal wreath for Ecclesia may seem audacious since the victory was actually Christ’s, but the martyrs were always spoken of as victors. None of the crowns just described symbolize or display royal power, they are primarily festive. It is worth saying that, when the Virgin is crowned, it is as Queen of Heaven, or Queen of Angels, and if the tympanum had shown that subject, then the two angels would almost certainly have stood either side of a throne and symmetrically, instead of being placed as they are here, at different levels and adjusted to the available space. The ‘somewhat unrelated manner’ in which the four living creatures and the angels are arranged is said to be naïve.42 There is no doubt that symmetry and order would have been thought desirable in a solemn scene of enthronement, but that is not the nature of the subject here – this is a wedding. The disarray might be naïve or fortuitous, or it could be intentional, expressing excitement and joy. A little boisterousness on this occasion was perhaps almost inevitable, here in the heart of what had been Anglo-Saxon England.43 Rogationtide and Ascensiontide celebrated the Triumph of Christ and Ecclesia; the celebrations had aroused intense corporate devotion before the Conquest, and perhaps they still did so in the diocese of Worcester.44

41. Hortus Deliciarum, f. 244v. The crown given to the ascending soul of Mary is of this kind: see Mayr- Harting, ‘The Assumption of Mary’, 86–11, fig. 2. 42. Verey and Brooks, The Cotswolds, 570. 43. The Anglo-Saxon liking for a ‘drink’ goes back a long way: see A. Gransden, ‘Cultural transition at Worcester in the Anglo-Norman period’, in Borg, Medieval Art, 9, re Bishop Wulfstan’s prohibition of drinking in the priory because it led to brawls. 44. M.B. Bedingfield, The Dramatic Liturgy of Anglo-Saxon England (Woodbridge, 2002), 191–210. Rogationtide (three days of processions, general intercessions and penitential prayer) preceded Ascension Day itself, then the celebratory nine days up to Whit Sunday/Pentecost. 112 RITA WOOD

The North Tympanum at Quenington The tympanum over the north doorway depicts a resurrection event known as the Descent into Hell, the Harrowing of Hell or the Anastasis (Fig. 10).45 A large Christ tramples the bound demon Death and forces the cross-staff into its mouth; with his other hand Christ pulls Adam – the first of three smaller figures signifying a crowd – from the inverted leonine head representing Hell; above, a personified sun shines. This is a standard formula, drawn in Anglo-Saxon style with content that recalls post-Conquest and Byzantine examples.46 The head of Christ is comparable to that on the south tympanum and it is evident that the sculptor was the same man, working in the same way but with a different quality of model. One unusual detail is that Christ wears a chasuble and maniple, the vestments worn by a priest celebrating Mass. In heaven after his Resurrection Christ is said to be a priest mediating for man with his Father (Romans 8:34; Hebrews 7:24–7), but his priesthood is seldom indicated even there. A second feature, more noticeable here than over the south doorway, is the restriction of the scene to the centre of the tympanum leaving the corners blank; the round-headed architectural frame is also present at South Cerney and is discussed in the next section. The Harrowing was, and is, the chief Resurrection event for the Eastern Church, and at this period it was commonly depicted in England. ‘Hell’ in this context is not a place of punishment, but the place of the dead, corresponding to Hades. The other Resurrection picture popular in the West was based on a long biblical narrative about the three Marys going to the tomb and finding it empty (Luke 23:55–24:11), whereas the Harrowing is based on diverse short passages, chiefly 1 Peter 3:18–20, which includes the statement that ‘[Christ] went and made his proclamation to the imprisoned spirits.’47 For the faithful, the Descent into Hell demonstrated Christ’s victory over Death, while his rescue of Adam and Eve, mankind’s first parents, meant that all subsequent believers would also have bodily resurrection. The promise of life in paradise after death was of universal interest, for example, Bede presents it as the decisive factor in the conversion of Northumbria in 627; he sets out at length the reasoning of Coifi the high priest and another of the king’s chief men in favour of a new religion which could give knowledge of the after-life.48 From the first centuries of the Christian era in the East, the meagre biblical sources for this vital event had gathered significant anecdotal accretions, and several of these are illustrated in the tympanum. For example, the apocryphal Gospel of Nichodemus, which was available in an Old English version, mentions a great light suddenly shining in Hell, ‘as if the golden sun were kindled’; the coming of the glorious King who ‘trod down devilish death far below’; the seizing and binding of Satan, and the Lord taking Adam by the hand, saying ‘Peace be with you, Adam,

45. cf. G. Zarnecki, Romanesque Lincoln: the Sculpture of the Cathedral (Lincoln, 1988), figs. 78, 85, 86, 89; Zarnecki, English Romanesque Art, 150, item 96 (Bristol). The Harrowing was also carved at Shobdon, (Herefs.) and Beckford (Worcs.) in this period. 46. Tiberius Psalter, f. 14 (c.1050–75): see F. Wormald, ‘An English 11th-century psalter with pictures’, Walpole Soc. 38 (1960–62); Pembroke College Gospels, f. 4v. (c.1130/40); Winchester Psalter f. 24 (c.1150), illus. in C.M. Kauffmann, Romanesque Manuscripts 1066–1190 (London, 1975), illus. 99, 224. For two spectacular Byzantine examples, see Rice, Art of the Byzantine Era, illus. 164 (Torcello, 12th- century, much restored); illus. 212 (church of Kariye Camii, Constantinople, later). 47. There are other biblical texts alluding to the Harrowing: e.g. Matthew 27:52; Ephesians 4:8; Psalm 68:18. 48. Bede, History of the English Church and People, bk. 2 ch. 13. Romanesque Sculpture at Quenington 113

Fig. 10. Quenington north tympanum: the Harrowing of Hell (photo: author). and all your children.’49 The large size of the risen Christ is mentioned in the apocryphal Gospel of Peter.50 There can be little doubt that the apocryphal stories were familiar to the people and would have been recognized in the tympanum.

49. D. Farrow, Ascension and Ecclesia: on the significance of the doctrine of the Ascension for ecclesiology and Christian cosmology (Edinburgh, 1999), 275–7. Other literature: Cassiodorus is quoted by K.M. Openshaw, ‘The Battle between Christ and Satan in the Tiberius Psalter’, Jnl. Warburg and Courtauld Inst. 52 (1989), 16; for the 5th-century narrative Descensus Christi ad inferos in the Gospel of Nichodemus, see J.E. Cross (ed.), Two Old English Apocrypha and their Manuscript Source (Cambridge, 1996), 43–4, 195–247; J.K. Elliott, The Apocryphal New Testament (Oxford, 1993), 189, 8–9(24–5); J.J. Campbell, ‘To Hell and Back: Latin tradition and literary use of the Descensus ad Inferos in Old English’, Viator 13 (1982), 107–58. Quotations from Cross, Two Old English Apocrypha, 200–39, an Anglo-Saxon MS of the Gospel of Nichodemus. 50. D.R. Cartlidge and J.K. Elliott, Art and the Christian Apocrypha (London, 2001), 128–30. For the large figure, see Elliott,Apocryphal New Testament, 156–7 (translation of Gospel of Peter, 10:34–41). For other examples of the extra-large figure of Christ after the Resurrection, see F. Wormald, ‘An English 11th-century Psalter with Pictures,’ Walpole Soc. 38, pl. 16 (B.L. Cotton MS Tiberius c.vi); G. Schiller, Ikonographie der Christlichen Kunst, III (Gütersloh, 1971), fig. 503 (an Ascension in S. Pietro, Tuscania). 114 RITA WOOD

Fig. 11. The Balfour ciborium: the Harrowing of Hell (author, after Stratford, ‘Three English Ciboria’, pl. 32 and photos).

Related Sculpture at All Hallows, South Cerney South Cerney is about 8 miles south-west of Quenington: both villages are near the southern limits of the medieval diocese of Worcester. The history of the church in the 12th century is less obscure than at Quenington. Michael Oakeshott notes that from the first decade of the century Gloucester abbey had the right to nominate the rector;51 this is well before the period when the sculpture would have been made. The Harrowing of Hell is depicted at South Cerney (Figs. 12 and 13) in a similar but reduced format to that at Quenington (Fig. 10). There can be no doubt that the sculptor was the same man because the manner of working is the same, with low, two-level relief and incised details. Unfortunately, however, the sculpture is not in such good condition as at Quenington. As before, the event pictured takes place within an archway and Christ wears a

51. M. Oakeshott, All Hallows, South Cerney: a guide and some historical notes (, 2002); Verey and Brooks, The Cotswolds, 617–19. Romanesque Sculpture at Quenington 115

Fig. 12. South Cerney: the complete vertical display Fig. 13. South Cerney: the complete vertical above the south doorway (photo: author). display, diagram (author). chasuble and maniple, but the composition is reversed and at a smaller scale so that there is room to show only two people being rescued, while Death and Hell seem to be combined into one creature. The archway over the Harrowing at Quenington and South Cerney seems to be related to the city wall in the same scene on the cover of the Balfour ciborium (Fig. 11).52 On the ciborium,

52. As above, the Balfour ciborium and the two tympana at Quenington share a common iconographic origin in the Worcester chapterhouse scheme: e.g. Heslop, ‘Worcester cathedral chapterhouse’, 289. The Harrowing scene in the St Albans Psalter (c.1120–40) includes three demons as on the Balfour Ciborium. 116 RITA WOOD the unhinged doors of the city of Hell are shown drooping broken on either side;53 perhaps the broken-down doors of Hell were painted in the corners of the tympanum at Quenington. The Harrowing of Hell scene fills the lowest panel in a three-part display (Figs. 12 and 13). The complete unit was reset some feet above the south doorway (Fig. 14) during the Victorian rebuilding of this part of the church, from an unknown position. Although single figures in architectural niches are sometimes found placed over early 12th-century doorways, such as the figure of Christ at Rous Lench (Worcs.) or an unidentified seated figure at Haddiscoe (Norfolk), this taller form with multiple scenes is without parallel in English Romanesque sculpture.54 The architectural frame enclosing the three parts mimics an actual window opening and its glazed panels; the divisions by semi-circles and mandorla resemble those used in contemporary glazing, and it will be shown that, like some glazing programmes, the narrative of its three parts develops upwards from the bottom. The threefold display pictures ‘creation’s triple frame’, to quote an ancient hymn sung in Ascensiontide.55 At the top of the ‘window’ is an unworked blank tympanum: this is likely to have followed English conventions of the early 12th century and to have been painted with some all-over pattern to represent heaven; tympana of this kind are common in the Cotswolds.56 In the central panel Christ is seated, holding a book and giving a blessing. This is not a stationary Majesty, as seems to be the case at Water Stratford (Bucks.), nor is it the Second Coming, as at Malmesbury abbey (Wilts.): here Christ is ascending. The movement is indicated by the fact that the points of the mandorla are overlapped by the areas designated as Heaven and Hell, thus signifying Christ passing upwards from Resurrection to Heaven. The mandorla is held by two wingless angels, an unusual feature but probably derived from the ‘two men’ in Luke 24:4 (in the tomb) and Acts 1:10 (at the Ascension); the apocryphal Gospel of Peter describes those who escort the risen Christ out of the tomb, as two ‘young men’.57 Their feet are firmly planted on top of Hell, suggesting that Christ is about to leave for heaven. The ascending Christ wears a cope, a cape that fastens across the chest and somewhat restricts arm movement. A chasuble, the garment worn in the Harrowing, has no fastening but a hole for the head and it hangs straight down front and back, leaving the arms free. In the 12th century, the cope is known to have been a particularly rich and showy vestment, while surviving chasubles can be quite flimsy, thin silk garments.58 A cope is suited to the splendour of stately processions,

53. The broken doors of Hell are mentioned in the Gospel of Nichodemus: see n. 49 above. 54. The position of the sculpture before the restoration in 1861–2 by J.P. St Aubyn, who added the south aisle and porch, is uncertain. For pictures of doorway and niche at Rous Lench, see www.crsbi.ac.uk; for Haddiscoe, see N. Pevsner and B. Wilson, Norfolk 2: North-West and South Norfolk (London, 1999), pl. 15. 55. See M. Britt, The Hymns of the Breviary and Missal (London, 1922), 157–8, the hymn Aeterne rex altissime, v. 3: Ut trina rerum machina/coelestium, terrestrium/et inferorum condita/flectat genu jam subdita. Based on Philippians 2:10. 56. R. Wood, ‘Geometric patterns in English Romanesque sculpture’, Jnl. Brit. Archaeol. Assoc. 154 (2001), 8–9, 12–14, 33–4, lists 7 and 9. 57. Elliott, Apocryphal New Testament, 156–7 (translation of Gospel of Peter, 10:34–41). 58. The cope could be heavily jewelled, see Lasko, Ars Sacra, 131–2; pl. 133. For the social nuances of the cope, see Eadmer, Historia novellarum in Anglia: recent history of events in England, trans. G. Bosanquet (London, 1964), 111–14. A plain blue chasuble in Tournai said to have belonged to Thomas Becket is of light-weight silk. The relic, the chasuble of St Oswald, was kept at Worcester (where he had been bishop in the late 10th century); it was seen by Eadmer, see ‘Miracles of St Oswald’, ch. 4, in A.J. Turner and B.J. Muir (eds. and trans.), Eadmer of Canterbury: Lives and Miracles of Saints Oda, Dunstan and Oswald (Oxford, 2006), 307. Romanesque Sculpture at Quenington 117

Fig. 14. South Cerney: the arches of the south doorway (photo: author). while the chasuble allows freedom for liturgical action.59 That Christ is shown wearing a cope as he ascends implies that he is leading a procession to heaven; logically too, since in the preceding scene, wearing the chasuble, he is active in bringing his followers out of Hell. The Gospel of Nichodemus says that after the redeemed leave Hell, they are given into the charge of St Michael and follow their King to heaven. Villagers, seeing that a cope is worn by Christ, would understand that a procession was implied and recall this part of the narrative. Not only those rescued from Hell would be in this procession, but all who have believed and died since.60 As described above, the wall of the city of Hell in the original Worcester Harrowing scene, represented by the Balfour ciborium (Fig. 11), could have been simplified into the archway depicted at Quenington and South Cerney (Figs. 10, 12). In contrast to these, the Eton roundels equivalent (f. 6) has only a blank wall behind the participants, giving the appearance of the backdrop in a mystery play. For the Ascension, the Worcester chapterhouse scene would probably have pictured an upright figure of Christ rising into clouds watched by the apostles and Mary.61 The Ascension at South Cerney uses other imagery not dependent on Worcester. It moves into symbolical mode: Christ ascends enthroned.

59. In the later use of Sarum the cope is definitely a processional vestment: J. Mayo,A History of Ecclesiastical Dress (London, 1984), 38–45; W.H. Frere, The Use of Sarum, I (Cambridge, 1898), 282–3. 60. For St Michael associated with burials, see D. Stocker and P. Everson, Summoning St Michael: early Romanesque towers in Lincolnshire (Oxford, 2006). 61. The Worcester text, the Balfour ciborium and Eton roundel (f. 6v.) agree in this. 118 RITA WOOD

As to which sculpture is earlier, that at Quenington or at South Cerney, it is impossible to tell, since a drawing or equivalent of the whole Harrowing scene as it existed at Worcester cathedral priory must have been available to produce either carved version. If the windows in the chapterhouse at Worcester held the New Testament themes and so were the inspiration both for the subjects and the ‘window’ at South Cerney, then all the chief influences seem to be from there, and it is likely that the larger work of the tympana at Quenington were first, and the ‘window’ a smaller commission soon following. Unlike Quenington, where each doorway has a single subject from the chapterhouse (bays 7 and 10), the South Cerney sculpture combines subjects – though not imagery – from three bays of the chapterhouse scheme (bays 7, 8 and 10). That the same designer, as well as the same sculptor, was at work at both churches seems indicated by the fact that, firstly, both schemes introduce familiar items (chalice, chasuble, cope) into the centre of their strange landscapes and, secondly, that the schemes at both churches follow the narrative from Hell to Heaven, the restriction on space causing the involvement of a different iconography for the Ascension at South Cerney.

The Sculpture in Use The North and South Doorways at Quenington as a Sequential Pair Quenington church is unusual in that the designer had the opportunity to provide teaching schemes for two important doorways at the same building: he took the opportunity to link their teaching, for the Crowning of Ecclesia is a sequel to the Harrowing of Hell. Perhaps he was encouraged in his choice of subjects by the aspect of the entrances: chill and dark, open and sunny.62 As described above, the north tympanum depicts the rescue of Adam and his companions, following which all the faithful leave Hades and ascend following Christ: it has been shown that a general ascension is implied at South Cerney. Once arrived in heaven, it is convenient to represent the crowd of the elect by the personification Ecclesia; the crowning of the Bride, the marriage of the Lamb and the marriage feast (the Messianic banquet) follow.63 The north doorway, the doorway most in use, has a positive message, but would provide a workaday context for teaching about sin, repentance and hope. On festivals the congregation would have entered by the south doorway or processed to it.

The Sculpture as Visual Aid The north tympanum at Quenington takes its motifs from the apocryphal gospels, which were available in Old English, and we may suppose that the tales were known to the people. At South Cerney, the unique upright form would have been a perfect vehicle for the Ascensiontide message, and again, Anglo-Saxon celebrations of Ascensiontide seem to be alive and well in the diocese of Worcester. There is no reason to suppose the Norman hierarchy would, or could, have deterred such popular devotions. The ascension of mankind is the keynote to all Romanesque sculpture, perhaps the perceived local emphasis on the season in Anglo-Saxon England is due to the chance survival of documents. In teaching illiterate villagers from the south doorway at Quenington, the allegory of the Crowning of the Bride Ecclesia would have been explained: that it involved the individual onlookers

62. A pair of doorways exists at Beckford church (Worcs.): the Harrowing is on the less-used north doorway and a scene of worship in heaven is on the tympanum of the south doorway: Keyser, Tympana and Lintels, pls. 95, 21; site entry on www.crsbi.ac.uk. 63. A feast foretold in Isaiah 25:6–9; and parables, e.g. Luke 14:15–24. Romanesque Sculpture at Quenington 119

Fig. 15 Dinton (Bucks.): the south doorway (photo: Zodiaque, reproduced with permission). present, members of the Church. There is a natural sense of excitement to be associated with riding in a carriage in the amazing surroundings, and this would have been useful to communicate: heaven will be like this! Whether through the personification Ecclesia, or as individual souls, faithful Christians should expect to share the triumph and wear a crown: the viewers were being encouraged to long for heaven. In England it was common in the first half of the 12th century to use the tympanum at the main entrance of a village church to depict heaven by some means or other. The Cotswold churches preserve many doorways whose geometric patterns are laid out in a simple cosmography of heaven, under or through which the worshipper entered the church, itself representing paradise. Many tympana not only depict heaven but transpose the onlooker 120 RITA WOOD there, or in some other way advertise heaven as a desirable place.64 Further, at Dinton (Fig. 15), a Buckinghamshire church with a doorway having structure and disposition of sculpture remarkably like those at Quenington (Figs. 1 and 2),65 there is an inscription telling the parishioner to expect reward in heaven for good works on earth: in the tympanum at Dinton two of the blessed are depicted as animal symbols feeding on that reward, the Tree of Life.66 The reward shown at Quenington for faithfulness and endurance, the marriage, is more splendid and marvellous, more ‘bookish’, than that illustrated in the Dinton tympanum, but the two are roughly equivalent. The onlooker was deliberately being encouraged to picture himself in heaven, and not just by the doorways at Quenington and Dinton but widely in Romanesque sculpture at village churches across England. At Quenington the designer could have used the tree-with-two-animals format as at Dinton,67 or any one of several other symbolic formulae to depict heaven, but, having a capable sculptor available and believing that the villagers would empathize better with human figures than with animals, he chose this extravagant wedding party to picture heaven. Had the tympanum shown the Coronation of the Virgin, the villager would not have been represented by the female figure but would have remained one of the watching crowd of heavenly courtiers, and with an additional layer of earthly intercession imposed on him. Honorius Augustodunensis was being over-enthusiastic if he suggested that the Virgin could replace Ecclesia on every occasion.68 In addition to the major concern of teaching about the life to come, another potential use of the tympanum in teaching the laity would have arisen during that part of a normal wedding which customarily took place at the main doorway of the church.69 The marriage pair in the tympanum, Christ and the Church, are often spoken of by St Paul in Ephesians as a model for human marriage.

The Expressive Use of Pattern at the Two Churches It seems to have been an object of the designer to have the patterns on the south doorway continuous throughout arch and jambs, over-riding minor structural elements and, as it were, joining earth to heaven. Thus, in the first order, although the chevrons are concealed by the narrow fillet forming the border at the bottom of the tympanum, their zigzag course continues in a regular manner beneath it. In the second order, the beaded tongue motif is laid across the forms on the capitals, and beading is added to the impost. The patterns of the hoodmould are continuous without any variation. No doubt all this was done so that the patterns might contribute in the fullest degree to the brilliance and excitement of this scene of heavenly glory. The joyfulness of the event in the tympanum would have been evident in the physical carving as well as in its intellectual content. The north doorway is also densely patterned: although the scene shows a conflict, it is one that

64. For the geometric style, see n. 56 above. For other styles, see Keyser, Tympana and Lintels (n. 3 above). There are 111 tympana illustrated by Keyser which have heaven as their subject, 26 of which include representations of believers. Subjects other than heaven are pictured in perhaps 50. 65. Musset, Angleterre Romane, I, pls. 116, 137, 139. 66. R. Wood, ‘The Romanesque doorways at Dinton and Leckhampstead’, Records of Bucks. 51 (2011), 139–68. 67. The tree-with-two-animals format occurs on tympana at a total of eight churches in England and Wales: see Wood, ‘Dinton and Leckhampstead’, 161–4. One of these doorways can probably be dated between 1116 and 1137: see R. Wood and D. Stephenson, ‘The Romanesque doorway at St Padarn’s church, Llanbadarn Fawr, Radnorshire’, Archaeologia Cambrensis 156 (2007), 51–72. 68. See n. 17 above. The formal crowning of the Virgin as a queen belongs in feeling and in fact to a later world. 69. S.A.J. Bradley, ‘Quem aspicientes viverent: symbolism in the early medieval church door and its ironwork’, Antiq. Jnl. 68(2) (1988), 234. Romanesque Sculpture at Quenington 121 is resolved triumphantly in favour of mankind. The capitals of the second order are similar to each other, and to capitals on the doorway at South Cerney; they show monsters emitting foliage, symbolizing life coming out of death. The third order has rectangular panels of the same height as the adjacent capitals: these both have interlace patterns.70 Patterns in the jambs include foliage, stars and zigzags, hinting at the paradise and heavenly glory to come.

Connections with Sculpture in Buckinghamshire A doorway at Dinton (Bucks.) was briefly mentioned above as resembling the two doorways at Quenington in general appearance (Figs. 1, 2, 15).71 There are similar proportions and density of carving, continuous orders, flat panels adjacent to capitals, and comparable patterns in the jambs; several of these features are unusual. This physical resemblance between the two doorways at Quenington and the one at Dinton strongly suggests that some of the same personnel worked on construction and minor sculpture at both churches. Yet there is a noticeable difference between the doorways at the two places, and it is at their centre. The Dinton tympanum is competent, clear and beautifully finished but the craftsman carved a standard tympanum subject with symbolic animals flanking a tree, whereas the chief sculptor in Gloucestershire was capable of tackling complex scenes of human action not often attempted at village churches. A less spectacular doorway at Leckhampstead near Buckingham (Fig. 16) has several motifs similar to those at Dinton, and a single star motif over its apex which resembles the stars on the jambs of the north doorway at Quenington and on the hoodmould at South Cerney; its tympanum uses yet another standard design but includes reference to the priesthood of the ascended Christ.72 Because of the very different nature of the lives and work of designer and craftsmen, it is unlikely that their association would continue long or extend over great distances, but the question arises as to whether the same designer might have organized the theological content at all four churches, that is to say, whether common lessons and teaching methods might be identified among them. There are four particular features of a designer’s work which recur in various of the four Gloucestershire and Buckinghamshire churches. First, there is the reference to Christ as a priest in the Resurrection and Ascension scenes at three of the four sites (South Cerney, Quenington and Leckhampstead). This reference is not uncommon, but it is independent of the Worcester chapterhouse imagery, for on the ciboria and on the Eton roundel of the Harrowing Christ wears the usual loose robes derived from classical models, and in the Worcester text Christ is mentioned as sacrifice and scapegoat but not as priest. The second design feature which recurs in both counties is the teaching about the heavenly reward. Its achievement is depicted at Quenington by the marriage scene on the south tympanum, while a reward for merits is promised in the inscription at Dinton and pictured in the tympanum;73 also, the Worcester verse about the Bride mentions her meritisque, good deeds or virtues.74 The Dinton inscription itself, two lines of Latin

70. Wood, ‘Geometric patterns’, 16–17 (n. 55 above). 71. See n. 65 and 66. 72. It does this by carving an altar beside the figure of Christ, who stands in heaven dressed as a newly- arrived traveller might be, smiling, in short tunic and hat. 73. premia pro meritis si q[u]is desp[er]et habenda/audiat hic prec[e]pta sibi que si[n]t retinenda. Literally, ‘If anyone despairs of having rewards for meritorious deeds/ let him hear here of the precepts which he ought to retain’. A more free translation given by Charles Keyser is: ‘If anyone should despair of obtaining reward for his deserts/ let him attend to the doctrines here preached, and take care to keep them in mind’. 74. See n. 23. 122 RITA WOOD

Fig. 16. Leckhampstead (Bucks.): detail of the south doorway showing star motif as used at Quenington and animal as at Dinton (photo: author). hexameter enlarging on the imagery adjacent, is a great rarity for Britain, and this might perhaps suggest that, at the back of his mind, the designer at Dinton was conscious of the chapterhouse scheme in which every image was accompanied by its own interpretative text. Thirdly, each of the four works uses some familiar object from a church to clarify the meaning of the scene. Chalice and vestments are employed at Quenington and South Cerney: at Dinton, the lintel depicts an equivalent for the Harrowing of Hell in which a smiling, that is, victorious, angel prods a dragon with an altar cross; similarly at Leckhampstead, the tympanum depicts an altar beside Christ to characterize his new priestly or intermediary function in heaven. An addition to a standard design, as at Leckhampstead, is unusual. Last of the similarities noted: at Dinton the lintel depicts the victory of the Cross, and the tympanum above it depicts the scene of reward in heaven, so that this one doorway combines the messages of the two tympana at Quenington. This fourth design feature is not quite so impressive as it might sound, for every church individually was likely to propagate the ubiquitous message of Romanesque sculpture, that heaven is now open to mankind, yet the number of other common features suggests that there is some continuity of thought here, as well as craftsmanship. The order of the first two of the four works is uncertain, as discussed above, but it is reasonable to begin in Gloucestershire, and with Quenington which is one of the most ambitious programmes Romanesque Sculpture at Quenington 123 at a village church in England. Having admired the work at Quenington, the local lord at South Cerney engaged the same team, or most of it. Designers must have been senior clergy or monks, probably themselves from the landed classes, and it is at this level that a patron was likely to make a commission.75 Following that, by some arrangement, the majority of the craftsmen at Quenington and the designer (but not the chief sculptor) apparently moved some 40 miles east, out of the diocese of Worcester, to produce the doorway at Dinton. Then at Leckhampstead, for a unknown lay patron, the doorway employed the designer briefly and also the sculptor who had carved the lintel at Dinton, but few if any of the pattern-carvers are evident; they must have dispersed after Dinton, perhaps recalled to Gloucester or wherever their base was. Considering his familiarity with scenes from the chapterhouse imagery and perhaps his Anglo-Saxon emphasis on Ascensiontide, the designer may have belonged to Worcester cathedral priory.76 To summarize, the team that had produced the Quenington sculpture remained largely intact over a distance of several days’ journey, and no intermediate examples of their work have been identified. How might this postulated migration have come about?

Historical Connections with Buckinghamshire77 Quenington, Dinton, South Cerney and, possibly, Great Leckhampstead were linked by the sisters Cecily and Agnes, daughters of Sybil Talbot (de Lacy), the wife of Payn fitzJohn.78 Sybil was heir to the Lacy barony of Weobley (Herefs.) through her mother Agnes, sister and heir to Hugh de Lacy of Weobley, and to the Talbot barony of Swanscombe (Kent) through her father, Geoffrey I Talbot. After their father died in 1137 Cecily and Agnes each had one half of the barony of Weobley. Agnes, however, held her half under her elder sister, so any grants she made from it would normally have the assent of Cecily and her husband. Cecily was married three times, to Roger, son of Miles and grandson of Walter of Gloucester, to William de Poitou and to Walter de Mayenne. Agnes was married twice, to Warin de Mountchesney and to Haldenald de Bidun. Quenington lay in Weobley barony. The church at Quenington had been given to Gloucester abbey by Hugh de Lacy of Weobley, great-uncle of Sybil Talbot (de Lacy).79 Quenington was in the half of the Weobley barony that Agnes inherited after the death of her father. She held it under Cecily, so when she gave to the Hospitallers the preceptory of Quenington c.1160 the grant was made with the consent of Cecily and William de Poitou, her husband.80 The church, however, may have remained in the hands of Gloucester abbey: it did not belong to the Hospitallers in 1338. After the death of Geoffrey II Talbot, their half-brother, in 1140 without living children, the Talbot barony was divided between Cecily and Agnes on the same basis as the Lacy inheritance. There is some suggestion, however, from Walter de Mayenne’s carta baronum of 1166, where he says that he holds the Talbot barony from Henry ‘by his grace’, that the barony may have passed

75. Compare the situation described in Wood, ‘Memorial at Conisbrough’, 58–60 (n. 26 above). 76. Gransden, ‘Cultural Transition’, 1–14, pl. I (n. 43 above). 77. This section is by Bruce Coplestone-Crow. 78. Payn and/or Sibyl fitzJohn have been suggested as active patrons of sculpture in the second quarter of the 12th century: see M. Thurlby with B. Coplestone-Crow, The Herefordshire School of Romanesque Sculpture (Logaston, 2013), chs. 1 and 9. There is no observable likeness of the sculpture discussed in the present paper to that of the Herefordshire School. (RW) 79. W.H. Hart (ed.), Historia et Cartularium Monasterii Sancti Petri Gloucestriae (3 vols., London, 1863–7), nos. 487, 556, 630. 80. Sir W. Dugdale, Monasticon Anglicanum (London, 1856), VI, 836. The absolute limits for the grant are after the death of Cecily’s first husband in 1155 and before the death of William de Poitou, her second husband. This had occurred by 1166, when she was married to Walter de Mayenne. 124 RITA WOOD into the hands of the Crown after Geoffrey’s death, and was only given to Cecily and Walter de Mayenne, her husband, after the accession of Henry II in 1154.81 However, this probably means that Henry had allowed to be carried forward into his reign an arrangement made by King Stephen (all of whose grants and depositions were, under the terms of a settlement reached between Stephen and Henry in which the king recognized Henry as his heir, to be made null and void on Henry’s accession) through which the sisters received Geoffrey’s barony. Dinton evidently lay in Agnes’s share of the barony, since she gave its church to the nuns of Godstow abbey (Oxon.).82 In 1086 Dinton in Buckinghamshire had been held from Bishop Odo of Bayeux by a member of the Talbot family. Bishop Odo was also lord of Great Leckhampstead in the same county, with Gilbert Maminot as his subtenant.83 After Bishop Odo’s forfeiture Gilbert became the chief lord of Great Leckhampstead (just as Talbot did at Dinton). The advowson (i.e. the right to present to the living) of the church belonged to Gilbert Maminot’s descendants until the church and manor were given to a member of the Castillon family sometime in the 12th century. Hugh de Castillon had both church and manor in 1199 and he made the advowson part of the dower he gave Parnel, wife of his son Richard, in 1205.84 South Cerney belonged to Walter de Pîtres (also known as Walter fitzRoger or Walter of Gloucester) in 1086 and he gave the church there to Gloucester abbey. After his death c.1126, South Cerney went to Miles of Gloucester, his son, and then to Roger of Gloucester, earl of Hereford, his grandson. Roger married Cecily daughter of Sybil Talbot (de Lacy) in 1137. When he died childless in 1155, South Cerney passed to his sister, Margaret de Bohun, and she gave lands there to the priory of Llanthony Secunda (Llanthony-by-Gloucester) founded by her father.85 Agnes de Mountchesney’s grant of Quenington to the Hospitallers and the church of Dinton to Godstow abbey suggest that she was the link between these places that enabled the sculptors to migrate from one to the other. If this is the case, the sculpture at both places probably dates from after 1137. Assuming the work at Quenington was done before she gave the manor to the Hospitallers, and at Dinton before she gave the church to Godstow, the sculpture at these places may date from before c.1160. If the other sculpture was done at about the same time, the cultural and political background of it all will have been the civil war of Stephen’s reign. Great Leckhampstead’s place in the scheme is harder to see, but as both it and Dinton were held under Bishop Odo of Bayeux at Domesday, some personal or feudal link may have been maintained that led to Agnes’s sculptors working there. South Cerney came within the orbit of her family through Cecily’s marriage to Roger, son of Miles of Gloucester and grandson of Walter de Pîtres. Cecily, rather than her sister, was probably the sculptor’s patron there.

Acknowledgements To Terry and Gilbert for much practical assistance and the anonymous referee for making several helpful comments. Thanks are also due to Bruce Coplestone-Crow for supplying, at fairly short notice, detailed information on the likely patrons.

81. H. Hall (ed.), The Red Book of the Exchequer (3 vols., London, 1896), 195. 82. A. Clark (ed.), The English Register of Godstow Nunnery (3 vols., London, 1905–11), nos. 50–4. 83. Domesday Book, f. 144v. 84. VCH Bucks. IV, 182. 85. Domesday Book, f. 169; Hart, Historia et Cartularium, no. 167; D. Walker (ed.), ‘Charters of the earls of Hereford 1095–1201’, Camden Misc. 22(1964), nos. 105–7.