Earlier in this blog, in ‘Through the Golden Valley to the Dark Tower’, I recounted a book-collecting expedition in the Welsh/English
Marcher country with two friends, staying in Abbey Dore and journeying via
Francis Brett Young country at Urishay to Hay-on-Wye.
Delving further into this numinous realm, I consulted A Definitive History of
Dore Abbey edited by Ron Shoesmith & Ruth
Richardson (1997). The abbey is one of those where the church itself (though
not the other abbey buildings) survived ruination because it was kept on for use by the
parish. It is thus rather a grand edifice for this remote little village.
The dissolution here was
carried out relatively peaceably. The Abbott accepted a pension and retired, as
did other clergy. It was formally suppressed on 1 March (St David’s Day), 1537,
when there were about 9 monks and 16 or so lay servants. A sale of goods was
held the same day and records of this survive that give a picture of the
Abbey’s material possessions.
Most were bought (cheaply) by the agent of the
dissolution, the Crown Receiver, John Scudamore. The abbey steward, Thomas
Baskerville, also bought some items. The vestments included five chasubles,
four tunicles, and three copes: the last abbot, John Redbourne, bought a cope
of ‘blue silk with angels’, a chasuble and two tunicles. He was later accused
of concealing from the Visitation “a little relic cross” of gold, and a “gospel
book plated with silver”. The editors suggest he “only wished to protect that
which was holy”.
All the gold plate was
delivered to London, but some plate of lesser monetary value remained, in
particular a “parcel-gilt chalice” which was kept, as the contemporary account records, “because of the clamour made
about it by the parishioners”. What is parcel-gilt? A thin layer of gold leaf applied
to parts of an object in sections or ‘parcels.’ There are other examples of
parcel gilt chalices where the stem is gilded and ornate and the silver bowl is
plain.
This brief remark set me wondering. Why the
clamour, of sufficient force to deter even the King’s rapacious agent? Why was
this vessel particularly important to the local people? Was it linked to some
especial veneration or legend, such as those of Celtic healing cups and the
Grail evoked by Evelyn Underhill, Arthur Machen, Charles Williams and others? And what became of it? Where is the Chalice of Dore now? Could it still be preserved and concealed in some oaken aumbry?
It is one of those brief historical vignettes that opens out possibilities. And if ever its story were to be accompanied by a soundtrack, there would be no need to look far. For, in a nice synchronicity, at the same time as I was reading the book, I was delighted to hear that Mike Simmons, a composer of
electronic music, had recently released an evocative album inspired by this
same region. Traces in a Landscape: Herefordshire includes pieces devoted
to Dore Abbey and to other local antiquities, including Arthur’s Stone, Kilpeck, The Rose Garden, and Wigmore Castle. Mike also provides short notes about these historic and
legendary places.
I’ve been following Mike's ‘Music from the Mountains’ for some
years and greatly enjoy his reflective, wistful work. Admirers of Mike
Oldfield, Tangerine Dream, The Third Ear Band, Harold Budd and Virginia Astley will find much to
appreciate here. Mike, a veteran of Sixties rock bands, also has
available CDs of his other fine albums, including Dreams of Avalon, Portmeirion,
A Green Lane to Ledbury and one following the River Wye.
(Mark Valentine)
