Dan Snow's History Hit - Inside The Great Cathedrals of Europe

Episode Date: December 30, 2021

A trip to Paris wouldn't be the same without taking a moment to gaze up at the great looming towers of the Gothic Notre Dame Cathedral with its watchful gargoyles on every corner. Today, celebrated journalist Simon Jenkins joins Dan to discuss 'humankind's greatest creation'; the cathedral. Simon has travelled across Europe - from Chartres to York, Cologne to Florence, Toledo to Moscow and Stockholm to Seville - to illuminate old stalwarts and highlight new discoveries. They compare favourites and share which ones they think are overrated. Simon's new book is called 'Europe's 100 Best Cathedrals'.Please vote for us! Dan Snow's History Hit has been nominated for a Podbible award in the 'informative' category: https://bit.ly/3pykkdsIf you'd like to learn more, we have hundreds of history documentaries, ad-free podcasts and audiobooks at History Hit - subscribe today! To download the History Hit app please go to the Android or Apple store.

Hi everyone, welcome to Dan's Close History. We've got Simon Jenkins back on the pod. He's one of Britain's leading authors, journalists. His opinion columns have enlightened, they have persuaded, they have enraged readers for decades. I remember growing up, I used to read Simon Jenkins in the Times, he's now at the Guardian. It is a source of huge pleasure to me that I'm now able to interview him on this podcast. And we're talking about cathedrals, we're talking about Europe's best hundred cathedrals. He's been around them, he's travelled, he knows these things. Listen to the man,. He's traveled. He knows these things. Listen to the man.

He knows his architecture. He used to be chairman of the National Trust. He's written lots of books on churches and cathedrals in his time. And this is his top 100. So this is a shortcut. It's a life hack. This is everything you need to know. So I'm very lucky to have Simon on the podcast talking about it.

He's just published a big book. And we go from Durham. We go from Notre Dame in Paris. And we go to Amiens and others. Will York Minster be the best cathedral in England? Find out on this podcast. If you want to listen to these podcasts without the ads, don't blame you. Or you want to get History Hit TV, certainly don't blame me for that. The place to do it is historyhit.tv.

Historyhit.tv, you just sign up for a very small subscription, less than the price of a pint of beer. You get the world's best history channel. This year, we're digging up kings. We're exploring high latitudes. We're looking for shipwrecks. It's all kicking off at HistoryHit TV. Tens of thousands of you on there. Why don't you go and join them?

So please head over to HistoryHit.tv and do that. But in the meantime, folks, here is Simon Jenkins. Enjoy. Simon, great to have you back on the pod. Lovely to be here. Now, is there science here, Simon, or is this an instinctive, emotional reflex? What makes a great cathedral? It's a very good question.

I think for me, and I have to stress, I'm looking at a cathedral not as a believer, as an appreciator. I think the single word that most typified cathedral to me is the word awe, A-W-E. And I found that as I went around what I regard as the hundred greatest masterpieces ever produced, I was just constantly overwhelmed by their awe. Not in every case, but basically in every case. It was a sense of amazement, a sense of mystery, a feeling that I was in the presence of something I didn't really understand, which is quite interesting for an atheist.

But overwhelmingly, this sense of people trying to create something which would blow people's mind away. And Simon, we live in an era where there are gigantic buildings littering the skyline. Can you imagine what they were like for people in the 13th century? Well, I went to, I don't know if you've been to Dubai, but I went to see the famous tower in Dubai, which is the tallest in the world. And I stood across the lake in front of it. And I had the same sense I got in Ulm Cathedral of people trying to do something that would stupefy everybody around them. I tried to imagine what Durham Cathedral would have seemed like when it was built,

to the people living in hovels around it. It must have seemed an absolute sort of, almost a monstrosity from outer space. They were quite remarkable structures, quite unlike anything we attempted until the 19th, 20th century. When you're travelling around Europe assembling this list, these are just places that have really struck you. Is there anything, looking back at your favourite cathedrals, that these big dramatic ones have in common? Is it their physical setting like Ely, Durham, or is it something in their proportion, their scale?

I think all those things. One thing I became quite obsessed with was you can ruin a cathedral by its setting. Many of the English cathedrals, the great English cathedrals, have been destroyed by, frankly, town planners. Worcester, I couldn't even include in my top 100. It's been so ruined by people just driving a road slap past it. Whereas the dignity with which the particular Spaniards and to some extent the Italians treated their great cathedrals always amazed me.

I began with that. Then I think size, the sheer size of these buildings is what I suppose does still today, we're used to big buildings, does still today induce in us a sense of wonder and awe. And finally, I think the craftsmanship, the beauty of these buildings, the glory they managed to inject into them.

Yeah, it's interesting. In Salisbury, Exeter, Winchester, Durham, it is nice how far cars have been kept away. In fact, I was walking around Bath last weekend, and I thought there's a precise correlation between a lack of cars and the enjoyment of a space. I did once drive to Ely Cathedral. I stopped my car. I think it was about six yards from the west door, which was open. And from my front seat with my hands on the wheel, I could see the altar. That was obscene. But you could do that.

Some of these cathedrals, you could almost drive into them. Yeah, you drive through. Very progressive. Yes. York Minster cars can get quite close to that. And the York Minster is more beautiful from the car-free side. Anyway, let's talk about some of your faves. Should we start with Durham?

Because it's just the most unbelievable position high up there on that curve of the river. I'm quite interested in Durham. I didn't put it in my top 20 or 25, or even in the top five in England. And I think it is amazing. Its site is almost unequal. I suppose Leon in France, one or two other cathedrals on hills like that. But it is amazing. Its site is almost unequal. I mean, I suppose Leon in France, I mean, there weren't other cathedrals on hills like that. But it is the most wonderful of sites. I think it's partly the inside of the cathedral I find in many ways awe-inspiring. I don't find

it quite as sophisticated or as complex or as frankly as wonderful as Lincoln or Ely or Wells. Speaking of car-free, sorry, I'm not my car-free thing. Lincoln's got a nice car-free zone around it. Anyway, I also love Lincoln because it's opposite the, well, very close to the site of the famous battle where William the Marshal drove back the forces of Prince Louis. But what makes Lincoln so special inside, do you think? It's complexity. It begins at the West End with Romanesque. You then go into early Gothic inside, where Hugh of Lincoln did his great early rebuilding. You've then got this amazing choir, which has the crazy vault above it, in which all the ribs of the vaults, the

tierce-run ribs, go in different directions. And you cannot work out what the crowds thought they were doing, unless they knew they were making a mistake. It's the most extraordinary place. And then you've got the Angel Choir behind, which I think is the greatest, we call it, decorated Gothic interior in England, which is just the most extraordinary, beautiful building. It has all these components, as well as a magnificent view of the outside from the distance. Listen to you talking there. It's interesting how you're talking about and celebrating the, I'm not an architect here, but the structure of the building, the arteries and the muscle and the sinews of the stone itself. Do you think if it hadn't been for the Reformation,

do you think if we were having this conversation in Italy, we would be focusing on the incredible Baroque interiors, which in a way can disguise the sinews of the building that they cover? Because I've got to say, I love a few old masters dotted around, I love a bit of gold. It's very unpatriotic. I just love a southern European Baroque interior. For me, this voyage was really a voyage of discovery.

But it wasn't just a voyage of discovery through the periods of church history. It was a voyage of discovery through style. And each of these styles, in some sense, reflected church history, which made it intellectually so interesting, I have to say. I also kept changing my mind. I mean, I thought Roman dexterity was fantastic at the beginning, then I found it a bit boring. I found early Gothic more interesting than late Gothic. I hated the Baroque initially, but grew to love it. Late Spanish Gothic, which was to me immensely vulgar and crude and bloodthirsty, grew on me until I adored it. So all these buildings I went through changes on.

I've never regarded the Baroque period with the same love that I regard Gothic, because the Gothic architects were doing their own thing. Baroque architects were obeying someone's rules. And every time I saw a Gothic cathedral, I always felt I was looking at a free spirit. Baroque, not. felt deep down inside these buildings, there was different spirits operating. And although the Gothic was obviously Catholic and very strict and all sorts of things, and was brought to a dead stop by the Reformation, the Gothic cathedrals of Europe remain my favourites. I noticed you talk about Amiens, and Amiens is very close to my heart, partly because I've spent time there because of the First World War. Also, I once saw the most extraordinary projection of colour onto the face of Amiens Cathedral, where the apostles were lit up in different shades of their clothes and things. It was a nighttime spectacular.

And it's been one of the most striking things I've ever seen. Colour is interesting at the cathedrals. Are we looking at... How different are the buildings we're looking at now to what they would have looked like when they were built? Well, you've touched on what is a side obsession of mine, which is colour. At the end of the introduction to the cathedral's book, and in my description of Amiens, I saw what you saw and was completely blown away by it. The restoration movement from the 19th

century onwards was averse to colour. It thought that somehow colour was vulgar. We still think that today. And there's tremendous aversion to repainting statues, all that sort of thing. Amiens really converted me to it. The company that does it, Chroma, who I write up in the book, were just brilliant. I couldn't work out how they did it, but the lasers picked out skin tones in the statues on the West Front. All the colorings of the ribs and the vaults and so on were all distinctive, all researched. They tried to get it right. When that show at Amiens, and it's been done in various places in England, it was done in Westminster Abbey about four years ago. All these buildings,

you're suddenly seeing them as their creators intended. And that to me is a very, very important part of the restorer's obligation. It may well be that it looks vulgar to people today, but why don't we just try and see what it was that a great Gothic mason wanted to do with his building? There's one man called E.W. Tristram, between the wars, in fact, who tried to do that to some English cathedrals. One in Bristol, there's a chapel in Bristol. And there are two or three others, one in Exeter, where Tristram did do the recoloring. And it is sensational. So I'm right with you.

I want to see these buildings recolouring and it is sensational. So I'm right with you. I want to see these buildings recoloured. You listen to Dan Snow's history, you've got Simon Jenkins on talking about cathedrals. It's great. More coming up. What did Tudor men like their women to look like? They should have broad shoulders, fleshy arms, fleshy legs and broad hips. What did 17th century Londoners think of coffee? A syrup of soot and the essence of old shoes. And what did executioners wear?

A lot of these guys, they were clothes horses because it's a big public spectacle. All the eyes are on you. I'm Professor Susanna Lipscomb and in my podcast, Not Just the Tudors, we talk about everything from monasteries to the Medici, I'm Matt Lewis. And I'm Dr. Alan Orjanaga. To be continued... Popes. Who were rarely the best of friends. Murder. Rebellions. And crusades. Find out who we really were. By subscribing to Gone Medieval from History Hit. Wherever you get your podcasts. There's a few that I'm struck by.

I've just recently been to Venice and obviously the Basilica of St. Mark's, extraordinary. But what about Notre Dame? Because we were all thinking about that and the pull by what we saw there. You're a big Notre Dame fan. Not a big one, a small one. The west front of Notre Dame is the cradle of the Gothic. It's also the tomb of the Romanesque. It's a crossover facade. It's got none of the soaring quality of higher Gothic. It's very pure. It's very stern. Whenever I used to go to Paris as a young person,

I always felt that Notre Dame was watching over me and contradicting whatever I was about to do. So Notre Dame West Front, which is the famous bit of Notre Dame, has got this quality of openness. We just know it so well. The inside is not that exciting, I don't think. It was, again, a transitional period of Gothic. But it'll be interesting to see what they do with the restoration.

But not much of the medieval building was destroyed in the fire, curiously. Happily. You go to a hundred cathedrals. What are some of the ones you cherish, perhaps took a bit of an adventure, a journey to get there? What are the hidden gems of Europe that we should go and see? The one I really was amazed by is a charming cathedral. It's honestly not a very grand place, but it's Saint-Bertrand-de-Cominge. It's in the Pyrenees. Most of the church is taken up by

the choir, which is inserted inside the church by a bishop who thought he wanted a smart choir and didn't give a damn about the laity. So none of the church has got any space for the laity. It's basically a wooden choir inside a church. But the outside of the church, it's on a hill in the foothills of the Pyrenees, has a cloister. It's an 11th century, very early cloister, Romanesque cloister. All the pillars, all the piers of the colonnade are carved into statues of disciples and so on. But one side of the cloister has got its wall removed. And from that side, you look down over a green valley, which I swear hasn't been touched since the Middle Ages. And beyond the valley are the snow-capped peaks of the Pyrenees.

And I try to think myself into the mind of the pilgrims who have been passed through Saint-Bertrand on their way into Spain and Santiago. They must have got to that cloister and thought to themselves, why on earth should I go any further? This has to be the gate of heaven. What about Britain? Let's come back to Britain. I've got friends who regard every other cathedral other than York Minster as a shabby replica.

What are your favourites on this island? I have my three, what I call the three graces, and they're Lincoln, Ely and Wells. And since everybody always says, what's your favourite cathedral? I have to choose one and I choose Wells. And Wells is full of imperfections, but utterly splendid. And it is full of such interesting architecture. including these marvellous 14th century Gothic capitals to the crossing pillars, all of which are characters from Wells, nothing to do with religion at all. The shoesmith, the farmer, the robber, these characters are all there, about 150 of them,

crowding the pillars in the crossing at Wells. Very few people notice them. It's things like that in the great chapter house with the staircase up to it, the mathematical lady choir. Wells, to me, is a premier cathedral, but it's difficult to choose. And also you develop, I mean, parish churches, you can take in your stride. Cathedrals, you love or hate. I mean, you become involved in your relationship with the cathedral, to my mind. Like, I've never liked St. Paul's. I found it pompous and militaristic and political and

all these things, splendid as it is. Westminster Abbey to me is, I think I'd call it a bag lady trying to find something in her bag. It's always full of junk. And Westminster to me is lovable in a way that St. Paul's isn't. And what I love about cathedrals is you develop these relationships with them. You personalise them. They become people. And Wells, reasonably car-free. It's Dan Snow acceptable, I'd say, car-free. It could do better. Of course, the thing about Wells was when they built it, they taxed everybody to pay for it. And it was so unpopular that the local people endlessly assaulted the clergymen. They had to build a wall right around it to protect themselves.

I love that. Now, you've been incredibly rude about some absolute gems of the British, the twin tombs of Nelson and Wellington. I can't imagine what you're talking about it being militaristic and political and so forth. But no, you're right. It's a very different place. Do you believe, let's get the most important question, is do you believe that Lincoln Cathedral once had a spire that was taller than the pyramids, which has now collapsed, unfortunately? Lincoln Cathedral once had a spire that was taller than the pyramids, which has now collapsed, unfortunately. Well, it's a much debated topic. I mean, no one quite measured it, I don't think.

But certainly until the 15th century, the spire on the central tower of Lincoln Cathedral was repeatedly the highest in the world and higher than the Great Pyramid of Cheops. Yes, and that's what it was said. You could see it from Norfolk, who said. It's my favourite pub fact, which unfortunately may not be a fact. So it's always very annoying now. What did it tell us that this little island, come back to the history for a second, the historical context, the building of these cathedrals, that this little island on the periphery of the world suddenly embarked on this monumental building project that saw some of the, well, in this case, perhaps the tallest building on earth constructed over the space of 200 or 300 years. What did the cathedrals, what did they tell us about England 1,000 years ago? Well, they told us it had been conquered.

It was simple as that. I mean, the reason why those buildings were built in the way they were was that the Normans had just taken over England, were determined to show that they were boss, they were the top country. They'd acquired huge wealth by expanding from Normandy to the whole of England, all of which they stole from the Saxons. And they spent vast sums of it on building these cathedrals. And they were, at the time, they were the biggest cathedrals in Europe. I mean, the French overtook them a little later. But no, for a period of time in the 12th century, 13th century, the English cathedrals, which were, of course, French, it's very important to establish, these were in no sense Anglo-Saxon cathedrals.

They were all demolished. I mean, the goodness knows, the carbon, the wind, it's the whole thing. Castles and cathedrals were all demolished. They were rebuilt by the Normans over a period of about less than a century. And they were stupendous. And they went on doing that right through the 12th and into the 13th century. So you're looking at probably the greatest building project in European history with the English cathedrals of the 12th century. It's a reflection of the wealth of Anglo-Saxon England, but co-opted into a very

different architectural and religious political tradition. It was a reflection of power. It was political. Yes, it was very political. In the same way that the Capetian kings in France at the beginning of the end of the 13th century, running into the 14th, rebuilt all their cathedrals in the high Gothic style as a way of showing that they were the top part of France. They were expressions of civic pride, national pride. But at the same time, what I found fascinating about them was they did not reflect that in their style. The style was always led by France. The German cathedrals were French cathedrals. The English cathedrals were French cathedrals. The Spanish cathedrals were French.

The Gothic style, right through all its phases, emanated from France and developed from there. And it was really the first great European cultural phenomenon was the Gothic cathedral. You mentioned it. So can I just quickly talk about abbeys? How were abbeys and monastic establishments different? Because obviously, sometimes the abbey church would look to all intents and purposes like a cathedral to the initiator. I mean, they were enormous and hugely glamorous. Well, Cologne was the biggest anywhere. And the Cistercians particularly built these vast abbey churches, you're quite right. They were the chief victims of reformation. That's the basic issue of it. I mean, in Britain, under Henry VIII, most of them were demolished. So they were the churches that suffered. It's the cathedrals that survived. And so the cathedrals now are much more prominent because they survived. And that has to be the main reason. Why did one have a sort of national institutional feel to it and the others were sort of almost private enterprises? What was the difference? I think there was what you just said, they were almost private enterprises. The great monastic orders were international, they were not national. They owed their allegiance very

specifically to the Pope, not to the King. That was frequently a bone of contention. And when there was any sort of trouble, like the great military orders, the civic authorities had to take it out on the monasteries, as Henry VIII did. Whereas the cathedrals were an expression of civic pride, not so much national, of civic pride, and they were protected by the citizens of the cities in which they were located, I mean, to the nth degree. So there was an important political distinction between the religious distinction of a group of introverted monks, but extroverted diocesan authorities. And they were, as a result, able to weather the Reformation. But tell me again, we've mentioned colour a bit, but how transformed were cathedrals by the Reformation? Well, most of the cathedrals that I choose, and I'm not choosing it because I'm a Protestant or anything, survived the Reformation because they were always Catholic.

So really, the Reformation did not affect most of these cathedrals very much. They all went through a decline, I think, in the 18th, after the Thirty Years' War, in the 18th century into the 19th. But then in the 19th century, most of the monasteries had begun to fail. And the revivalist movement in the 19th century concentrated therefore on cathedrals, particularly Villers-le-Duc in France and Gilbert Scott in England. In Northern Europe, the cathedrals did go into decline, quite serious decline, because many of them did not see any survival of the Catholic Church. And I've got four or five in my book from Scandinavia, which are rather sad places. I mean, they're very neat.

They look a bit clinical because they were stripped out, in effect, under the Reformation. As was, of course, the English cathedrals. I mean, York Minster had 50 chapels at the time of the Reformation. Every one of them was ripped out. So the destruction, or it was destruction caused by the Reformation, was universal in Northern Europe. And that certainly had an impact, yes.

And then, sorry to talk about Durham again, but Durham was used as a prison for Scotsmen after Cromwell's victory in Scotland. And you can still see the urine stains on the floor. It would have been a terrible sight. You're telling me something I didn't know. Thank you. Well, you can head up there and visit the museum.

It's excellent. Actually, I should just ask, what about Coventry? What do we think about the new ones? It's no good. I do not say to them. I'm totally aware some of them are wonderful. I quite like Bristol Cathedral. Reykjavik Cathedral is amazing.

But they don't have history. You can't read Europe developing and changing over the centuries in a modern cathedral. They do not move me like a great cathedral can. And I honestly don't think they will. Well, there we go. The book is called, tell us what it's called. Europe's 100 Best Cathedrals.

Simple. And what's next for the prolific Simon Jenkins? I'm doing a history of the Celts. Crikey. It's interesting, it's of the myth of the Celts. I mean, there were never Celts. They're English, Irish and Scots, Bretons, but there were never Celts. The Celts, Irish, and Scots, Bretons, but there were never Celts.

The Celts were an invention of the 19th century. And I'm telling that sort of story of how they acquired political significance. Crikey. Well, good luck. Good luck. And enjoy. That'll take us an hour, Dan. That'll take us an hour.

Enjoy the Witness Protection Program, and I will see you in 20 years' time. Thank you very much, Simon, for coming on. Thank you very much. I feel we have the history upon our shoulders. All this tradition of ours, our school history, our songs, this part of the history of our country, all were gone and finished. Thank you for making it to the end of this episode

of Dan Snow's History. I really appreciate listening to this podcast. I love doing these podcasts. It's a highlight of my career. It's the best thing I've ever done. And your support, your listening is obviously crucial for that project. If you did feel like doing me a favour, if you go to wherever you get your podcasts and give it a review,

give it a rating, obviously a good one, ideally, then that would be fantastic and feel free to share it. We obviously depend on listeners, depend on more and more people finding out about it, depend on good reviews to keep the listeners coming in. Really appreciate it. Thank you.