Canterbury Cathedral's Medieval Tombs

His hand was cold and smooth as I touched it. My eyes rested on the fine details of his armor, weapons, and up to his face that was frozen in time for all to see. I paused reverently to think about him, imagining what his life might have been like. Fascinated by who he was and what he did, I pondered on his bravery and achievements . He was Prince Edward Plantagenet, also known as the Black Prince, heir apparent to King Edward III and the father of a king (Richard II), but was never a king himself because he died before his father did, so the crown was passed on to his son. Nonetheless, he is honored as a knight with replicas of his colorful armor hanging over his tomb to this very day. The Black Prince was so revered and apparently wealthy enough that he could secure such a prominent place within this cathedral. In his everlasting slumber, lying on his monumental tomb, surrounded by an iron barrier, his remains are protected and well hidden beneath this ornate bronze chain-mailed effigy, in the south ambulatory of Canterbury Cathedral.

As visitors wandered about this cathedral, brightly lit by the sun's rays illuminating through the large stained glass windows, such effigies look harmless and intriguing. They speak to the living now as they did then about the individual entombed that once lived and breathed like us. These monuments, in various shapes and designs, tell us in discrete or in artistic fashion, about the dead resting within. It was a common belief back then that such tombs would help the deceased travel from Purgatory to Heaven by the prayers of those who came to pay their respects. Passers-by didn't need to even need to be related to the deceased, or even know of them. It was enough if the visitor would simply prayed, either vocally or mentally, for the tomb's occupant. It is also believed that priests were often paid in advance for their continuous prayers over these tombs.

By the late medieval period, the type of tomb one ended up in depended on their social and financial status. Common people were simply buried in unmarked graves in a church yard or beneath a church. The middle class used metallic plaques cast in brass or bronze with an image and inscription. The gentry or more prosperous families would have three-dimensional effigies or "counterfeits": sculptures or symbols carved of wood, marble or stone to adorn the monument. Stone effigies were often painted to appear more life-like.

Some of these elaborately decorated tombs offer important clues about the deceased, especially if the inscriptions were damaged or missing. England's medieval tombs were vandalized during the time of King Henry VIII's separation with the Catholic church. In such cases, important details such as clothing, head dress, pets, emblems and body parts may still reveal information about the deceased. For example, something as simple as a button on a gown indicates that the individual was of the mid- to later 14th century. Jewelry was used on images during the 15th century. A head dress covering the neck of a woman indicates she was either a widow or nun at the time of her death. Double effigies of a man and woman holding hands suggested they were married. Crowns would mean that the deceased was of noble birth. Knightly effigies often have their legs crossed and their eyes open as if looking up to heaven.

Heraldry used to decorate the effigy or monument would also tell us if the deceased was a man or woman. Diamond shaped, banner or oval heraldry symbols were usually associated with women while shields and banner symbols were for men. Such devices were further detailed with the coats of arms representing connections with important families, social status, political affiliation and/or membership in guilds or military organizations.

Coffins were also encased by expensive altar tombs or tomb-style chests and monuments decorated with foliage, figurines and architectural shapes. The relief portrait of the deceased in the 17th century became more hauntingly life-like. Some were standing, sitting, kneeling in prayer, shrouded, grief-stricken and even rising from grave. If possible, the remains were inside the tomb chests or at least close by if that wasn't possible.

As I continued my tour of this great Gothic cathedral, I was in awe of the it's history and design. The pillars, the intricate choir screen and the artwork speaks out to us of a time filled with turmoil and pageantry. The names of those buried there memorialized called out to me as I walked by. Although we are separated by centuries, we all share the same fate as human beings. In art and in death, the dead here were thus memorialized by their contemporaries, and are now studied by cathedral visitors and curious archaeologists.

Solemnly, as I stepped towards the main entrance to leave, I took one last look at the hanging heraldic achievements of the Black Prince, my eyes slowing lowering to his bronze effigy once more. It was then I realized that we, the living, tour sacred historical places like Canterbury to learn, pray for, or simply be amazed by the extravagant efforts that people many years ago went through to secure a place in the hereafter and perhaps attempt to immortalize themselves somehow so as to never be totally forgotten.

Sources:
http://www.newworldencyclopedia.org/entry/Tomb#Medieval_tombs
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Canterbury_Cathedral

and my own personal reflections when I toured there.