Tag: architecture

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Medieval Chicago – An Introduction to the Series

Today’s post marks the first installment of our special series called “Medieval Chicago.” Here, we plan to explore medieval artifacts, influences, and echoes in and around Chicagoland. This journey will take us through some of the city’s architectural achievements, museums, libraries, events, and any other relics of the Middle Ages that we discover along the way.

As a major tourist destination and one of our country’s great cultural hubs, Chicago has a lot to offer everyone. From its skyrises, including the Willis Tower (formerly the Sears Tower) and 875 North Michigan Avenue (formerly the John Hancock Center); its museums, such as the Art Institute and the Field Museum; to its Cultural Center, Broadway productions, and endless festivals; Chicago is full of nonstop excitement. It is also chock full of one other key ingredient that makes this destination particularly special: history. Chicago has a complex and fascinating past that extends not only beyond the borders of early American history, but also further back in time to the homelands of its many settlers and steady flow of immigrants, who brought (and bring) their cultures and histories with them. In fact, vestiges of human lives that trace back all the way to the Middle Ages (and earlier) can be found scattered throughout this most modern of urban landscapes. Such traces show us how, even now in our age of technological advancement, twenty-first century American culture is steeped in connections with the past. Humanity has always craved these connections, as our many periods of historical revivals show, because they keep us grounded. They remind us of who we are and where we came from, and they inform us about where we are going. The unique convergence of cultures and histories in this locale also reflect humanity’s inability to remain still. This impulse, or instinct, to move through time and space, advancing, retreating, migrating, is the very same human impulsion towards movement that led to the creation of our nation.

As we uncover remnants of the Middle Ages in this quintessentially American cityscape, we hope to broaden our site’s readership, reaching out to curious academics and public intellectuals alike. The larger goal behind the project is to remind ourselves and our readers about the historical traces and legacies left behind, and, by extension, the legacies that we are always in the process of leaving behind. This series will help us to be more cognizant of the living history that surrounds us every day, even in this relatively young country on which the medieval world has made many indelible marks. We aim to showcase how the past and present have always been not only connected, but also, often, indistinguishable. At the same time, we plan to highlight the modern world’s disconnections with the past, those features that come across as quaint, or dated, as a result of several centuries of cultural evolution. This investigation of our contemporary relationship with the Middle Ages will allow us to simultaneously examine social, political, religious, intellectual, and artistic questions that we have long since left behind, and those we still see as important.

To reiterate, Chicago is a major city in a country imprinted throughout with a past only partially its own; an imported, shared, blended history with a global reach, formed by indigenous people and immigrants from around the world coming together to create this beautifully diverse community. Simultaneously marred by periods of violence, oppression, and cultural appropriation, American history has many crosses to bear, and many of its monsters–racism, xenophobia, misogyny, homophobia, etc.–are rearing their ugly faces with a vengeance once again. Even, or maybe especially, as we struggle to overcome the darker moments of our past in order to find better ways to deal with the challenges that result from all this human movement, it is worth paying attention to the profound beauty that also springs from these constant migrations. This series, therefore, explores the cross-section of this imported, blended history that relates to the Middle Ages.

Furthermore, in part because of its proximity to Notre Dame, the university has established deep connections with the city. From its Michigan Ave campus and its local alumni group to its shared ownership of medieval manuscripts with the Newberry Library and courses taught in and about Chicago, Notre Dame has taken a vested interest in the locale. Students, as well, love to attend university-sponsored programs and extracurricular events here. One of the most popular weekend activities among Notre Dame’s graduate students looking for a study break are visits to Chicago’s many attractions and, perhaps most of all, the food.

In fact, it was not long ago that I was one of these graduate students, hungry for all that Chicago has to offer. Now, as a newly transplanted Chicago resident and the creator of this series, I plan to use this outlet to explore my new hometown while putting my academic training to public use. My goal is to build one more bridge between the campus and this great city. I’m still new to Chicago, but in my short time, I can’t help but notice a surprising pervasiveness of medieval architectural influence, from pointed arch windows, cathedral vaulted ceilings, sculptural ornamentation (even on modern skyscrapers). It’s part of Chicago’s character, a character that stands out as unique compared to other American cities. It also spills over into other areas of the city– from original artifacts sitting in museums and libraries to pop culture and local events (including classes on medieval sword fighting!). And, all this character will, I expect, lead to more discoveries for this series.

So, to all readers who happen to land on our site, whether affiliated with Notre Dame or not, this series is for you. As we encounter the medieval in today’s Chicago–from paintings and armor to manuscripts and buildings–we hope you’ll follow our journey. And, we welcome any leads you might have to offer to our series.

Welcome to Medieval Chicago!

Karrie Fuller, PhD
University of Notre Dame

 

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Buried Alive?

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Late medieval anchorhold at All Saints Church, King’s Lynn, Norfolk, England; photo by Megan J. Hall.

Have you heard of medieval anchoresses? Most people haven’t. Anchoritism was a fascinating (and odd) phenomenon that happened all across Western Europe and has roots in the early Christian desert hermit tradition. An anchoress was a laywoman who wanted to withdraw from secular life and live instead in solitude, enclosed in a small room attached to an exterior wall of a church or castle, devoting the rest of her earthly life to Christian devotion and such works of service as she could perform from her cell (embroidering liturgical cloths is one example). She would have required a patron or an income from landholdings or other source to support her needs, such as food, water, and clothing. Among women this phenomenon was first documented in England in the twelfth century and became an increasingly popular choice that continued well into the sixteenth. Several handbooks were written for these women, at first in Latin and then in English. Arguably the most famous is the Ancrene Wisse, composed in the early thirteenth century, of which an impressive seventeen manuscripts survive.

This lifestyle choice seems very strange to us today. Who among us would choose to confine herself to a one-room cell for the rest of her life? Wouldn’t you get claustrophobic, or addled by cabin fever, or die from lack of exposure to sunlight? Wouldn’t you just get bored? Not to mention the deeper and off-putting mythologies that have grown up about anchoresses: rites of the dead were said over them at enclosure, they were bricked into their cells, they dug their graves in their cell floors with their hands a little bit every day, they never saw anyone, and their cells were always on the north side of the church so they’d suffer more from cold (they were just that penitential).

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A bishop blesses an anchorite as she enters her cell; Pontifical, England, 1st quarter of the 15th century; London, British Library, Lansdowne MS 451, fol. 76v.

Perhaps the most chilling myth is that anchoresses were all walled up in their cells, like Fortunato in Edgar Allen Poe’s “The Cask of Amontillado.” In fact, while sometimes the exterior door of the cell was bricked in, that was not always the case. Further, the ceremony happened with great solemnity and was a voluntary commitment on the part of the anchoress. Various medieval pontificals, service books for Church bishops, record these rites. The office in the fifteenth-century pontifical of Bishop Lacy calls for the door of the cell to be built up. Others, like the sixteenth-century pontifical of Archbishop Bainbridge directs the anchoress’s door to be firmly shut from the outside. The image above, from an early fifteenth-century Pontifical held at the British Library, accompanies an enclosure rite that begins “Ordo ad recludendum reclusum et anaco/ritam,” or “Ordo [a book containing the rites, sacraments, and other liturgical offices of the Church] for enclosure of a recluse and anchorite.” The bishop makes the sign of the cross above an anchoress entering her cell before enclosing her.

As part of the research for my dissertation-in-progress, a study of lay English women’s literacy in the thirteenth century, I’m visiting a number of medieval English churches that hosted anchorholds (or are rumored to have done so) and chronicling it on my blog. Two of the sites still retain their medieval anchorholds, one pictured at the top of the post and the other below. Interestingly, both have exterior doors.

The Church of St. Mary and St. Cuthbert, Chester-le-Street, Durham: the late medieval anchorhold is pictured at the far left, sporting a door and a window; photo by Megan Hall
The Church of St. Mary and St. Cuthbert, Chester-le-Street, Durham, England: the late medieval anchorhold is pictured at the far left, sporting a door and a window. Photo by Megan J. Hall.

There is, of course, much more to be said about the exterior fabric of these cells and what has changed over the course of five or six hundred years than is room for here. Nonetheless, the evidence demonstrates that anchoresses’ access to the world was a more complex matter than myth would have you believe.

Megan J. Hall, Ph.D. Candidate
Department of English, University of Notre Dame

Sources

The Pontifical of Bishop Lacy: Exeter, Cathedral Library of the Dean and Chapter, MS 3513

The Pontifical of Archbishop Bainbridge: Cambridge, Cambridge University Library, MS F. vi. 1

F. M. Steele, “Ceremony of Enclosing Anchorites,” in Anchoresses of the West (London, 1903), pp. 47-51.

Rotha Mary Clay, The Hermits and Anchorites of England (London, Methuen 1914).