Hello, again, Blogonauts!

What happens when ecclesiastical excess intertwines with municipal mania?

Well, I mean aside from the Spanish Inquisition, the Thirty-Years War, the Crusades, the Salem Witch Trials, Islamic State, Utah, etc.

More aesthetic outcomes include the occasional Colossal Cathedral! And in medieval England, all the necessary elements cross-pollinated repeatedly. And I went to see a pair of the biggest fruits, each growing on relatively small vines.

The town of Salisbury (population <50,000) lies a few miles south of Stonehenge. During Roman times it was instead known as Sarum, and I spent the night at the modern-day Sarum College.

In the vacuum of power following the Roman's departure around 400 CE, Sarum (later Salisbury) and the surrounding area endured centuries of disputes and power struggles.

Eventually the personally wealthy (and thus ironically named) Bishop Poore of Salisbury sought to unify the locals by donating 80 acres of marshland to build a great new cathedral in the town. Construction began in 1220, almost 800 years ago. And in a triumph of comparative efficiency, instead of taking centuries to build, it was completed in only 38 years. (This was no doubt aided by the high water table limiting the building's foundation depth to a mere 4 feet.)

The Salisbury Cathedral lies literally only a few steps from Sarum College, so it was my first stop.

The church holds several claims to fame. First is the cathedral's spire, which climbs to a height of 404 feet, and is thus the tallest anywhere in the United Kingdom. This steep steeple alone weighs a nearly unfathomable 6,500 TONS! It must be held aloft by buttresses partially hidden in the walls. Since the cathedral sits in the middle of a large field, the lack of any comparable nearby structures magnifies its height.

Second, in the adjoining cloister, Salisburians hold one of only 4 extant original copies of the Magna Carta. This culture-changing document was signed by King John in 1215, 800 years ago this year. It declares that even the monarch cannot rule arbitrarily. The king was no longer above the law.

The document is in surprisingly good shape, but its watchful attendants will not allow photographs, for fear of light damage. It and the accompanying exhibits about the Magna Carta and about Amnesty International were genuinely moving.

Moving on, I then drove approximately 25 miles from Salisbury to another similarly sized college town: Winchester. (Oddly enough, this is where Toby's sister Zoë attended college.) Winchester is home for another church of unusual size, the Winchester Cathedral, which is the longest Gothic church in all of Europe.

Winchester Cathedral's construction began in 1079, only a few years after William the Conqueror successfully invaded England (or if you prefer, King Harold unsuccessfully defended England).

The new Norman king brought with him Norman architecture, with its tell-tale rounded arches and massive supporting columns. However, technology and style progressed during the construction, even up until the Renaissance, and so most of the church now appears just as Gothic as its Salisbury sibling.

Aside from its size, Winchester Cathedral is essentially a tomb for notable citizens. Most notable is the novelist Jane Austen, who is entombed in a side aisle alongside the nave. With no sense or sensibility, her grave marker lacks any mention of her prowess as an author. The silence bespeaks a bit of male chauvinist pride and prejudice, I think. And, of course, Winchester Cathedral provided inspiration for a 1966 hit single by The New Vaudeville Band.

I hope you enjoy the photos. History is around every corner in England, and so it's fun to see what's around the upcoming bend. Next? Avon calling!

Blog to you later!