The cathedral Chapter house

Uncovered within the area of a small, lined square sunken chamber at the west end of an Anglo-Saxon building 7.5 m (23 ft) wide underlying the current nave (to the west of the crossing), during excavations in 2003 (Rodwell 2003, 67; 2003–5, 3; 2004, 24–5; 2006a, 13–14; 2006b; Rodwell et al. 2008, 5–8). Rodwell's excavation further revealed a sunken chamber, 2 m (6 ft 7 in) wide x 80 cm (31.5 in) deep, which was originally lined, probably with timber, implying 'a small crypt or burial chamber (hypogeum)' that was subsequently covered (early in the Anglo-Saxon phases of activity), by a structure resembling a baldaccino supported on wooden columns with stone bases (Rodwell 2006a, 11, 13; 2006b, 2). Fragments 1a and 1b of the panel were discovered buried face-down to the south of one of these, while Fragment 1c, originally interred with the other two fragments, had fallen into the backfill of a fifteenth-century grave cut into the area. The presence of a penny (dated 957–75) in a posthole cutting into the burial pit containing the sculptured fragments means they were interred no earlier than the tenth century, while the chisel marks and resultant clean break of the panel, allowing for the preservation of the entire figure of the angel, suggest the monument was deliberately broken up before burial (Rodwell 2006b, 2). It seems that the monument, of which the panel was a part, stood in the timber-lined sunken chamber at the west end of a Saxon building that was later enhanced by the addition of a baldaccino (Rodwell 2006b, 1; Rodwell et al. 2008, 8–13).

St Peter

Broken into three fragments, contiguous with each other. The carving, in deep relief, is in good condition with paint surviving on all three pieces.

Together, the three fragments form a panel from the corner of a box-like structure. This, preserving the return on the left, is cambered at an 8 degree angle across the top, rising towards the right (see Fig. 49 below). A plain flat moulding frames the panel on the left and across the top, with remains surviving across the lower edge. The lower left-hand corner of the panel has been lost, as has a V-shaped piece half-way along the lower edge. The carved decoration which fills the field within this frame consists of the figure of a winged angel bearing a staff, with foliate details surviving on the left. Polychromy adheres to all three fragments, although less is preserved on Fragment 1c than on Fragments 1a and 1b.

Howe’s analysis of this polychromy (Howe 2006; Rodwell et al. 2008, 16–7, 35–44; Geary and Howe 2009) has revealed that white paint was used to prime the surface prior to adding colour; this was left exposed on the dressed background surface (visible on Fragments 1a and 1b), and areas such as the tips of the feathers, and the borders of the neckline, sleeves and hems of the angel’s robe and over-garment where it functioned as a white highlight. Elsewhere, the colours used are red, yellow and black. The frame outlining the fragment was red. The wings were coloured with yellow (over the white ground), and a fine layer of red was added to lend depth to the base of each feather; the white tips were outlined with a fine line of black, and fine diagonal strokes of red were added to the length of the feathers (on Fragment 1a) to produce a highly-modelled effect (Howe 2006, 12, fig. 26). Likewise, the folds of the sleeve and drapery were modelled with red painted over the yellow base used to colour the garments. The face, hands and feet retain traces of a pink flesh colour, while the nostrils and line between the lips have been highlighted with black, and the toe and finger nails of the angel’s right foot and hand were left white. The hair was painted yellow, as was the halo; a darker yellow layer survives on the outer rim of the halo that seems to have been applied (with egg) as a ground for gilding. The stems of the plant by the angel were painted red, while the leaves were painted yellow, as were those of the angel’s staff; the staff itself, the terminal bud and veins of the leaves may have been highlighted in white, but wear to the surface of these areas means this is uncertain (Howe 2006, 5; Rodwell et al. 2008, 16–17).

 

Fragment 1a

A (front): The remains of the foliate terminal of the staff held by the angel (composed of a large central bud and two spear-shaped leaves) are preserved in the upper right-hand corner of the piece; the central bud intrudes into the upper frame. Below, is the angel’s right wing. Held open, this is defined by a wide, sharply inverted upper ridge from which the individual feathers fall in four regular ribbed rows. Each of the short feathers in the upper three rows have clearly curved tips arranged in straight lines; the rounded tips of the lower feathers form a sharply inverted line rising to the right towards the angel’s body. Overlying the wing, the angel’s right hand is held in blessing such that the first two extended figures cross the outer edge of the wing; the other two curl across the palm to touch the thumb. Below the wrist, the angel’s arm is clothed in a long, loose-fitting sleeve, edged with a double border, which falls in a series of folds. Wrapped around the arm are the voluminous folds of a pallium, the edge of which hangs in a sweeping S-shaped fold down the side of the body and over the thigh of the angel’s right leg. Like the sleeve the pallium is edged by a double border. The leg, emerging from folds of the over-garment, is clothed in a long robe (tunica) that clings to the limb, swathing the ankle with a tightly curled fold, and delineating the leg with regular ribbed folds that accentuate the knee-cap and calf. The foot, seen from the front, is posed as if alighting on the ground. Behind the foot the stem of the foliate frond passes diagonally from the lower frame up to that on the left. Two-thirds of the way along its length is a slender offshoot which curves down into the break at the lower left-hand corner of the panel, to terminate in a fleshy pointed leaf incised with regular V-shaped lines that emerges from the break, curling back up towards the main stem under the angel’s foot. At the point the main stem intersects with the outer left-hand frame, it bifurcates, curling over to terminate in a pointed leaf like that remaining above the lower break. The second stem curves up the side of the panel, terminating in a third leaf, curled in towards the angel’s wing, half-way along its length.

B (edge): Broken

C (reverse): Roughly cut back with chisel marks remaining, to form the inner angle of the right-hand corner of the box.

D (return): Dressed but undecorated

 

Fragment 1b

A (front): The haloed head of the angel fills the central upper portion of the fragment. The halo is deeply dished with an incised border around its rim. The head itself is characterised by a long, rounded face, with well-modelled cheeks, chin and nose. The pupils of the ovoid eyes are deeply drilled as are the nostrils; the lips are full and well formed. A series of large curls fall down the left-hand side of the head and spread out over each shoulder; a thin ribbon crosses the angel’s forehead. The staff passes diagonally over the right shoulder, extending from the lower break up to that contiguous with Fragment 1a. The neckline of the tunica falls in a distinctive S-shaped fold, while the robe itself is marked by pleats over the left breast and right shoulder. The left shoulder and arm, which extends down the side of the body, are covered with the voluminous folds of the pallium. The outer edge of the angel’s left (open) wing, which replicates that on Fragment 1a, is lost in the break down the side of the piece.

B and D (edges): Broken

C (reverse): Roughly cut back with chisel marks remaining, to form the inner surface of the box.

 

Fragment 1c

A (front): Filled with the remains of the lower part of the angel’s left wing, his body, left hand and leg. The lower part of the wing is lost in the break in the stone. The forearm is foreshortened so that it extends out towards the viewer. The hand, emerging from the voluminous folds of the pallium and long sleeve, is positioned over the stomach, grasping the staff that crosses the body diagonally from the break along the upper edge to terminate over the left knee. The torso and forearm are swathed in the folds of the over-garment that crosses the angel’s waist in heavy parallel folds, and hangs over the left arm to fall in a length of drapery that sweeps out to the left of the angel, ending in a tight Z-shaped fold. Under this, the pallium is draped over the left side of the body, extending in heavy S-shaped folds that hang between the angel’s legs and loop up over the left knee. The right foot emerges from the tunica under this pallium, which hangs from folds that demarcate the knee and calf, being swept up in a wavy hemline visible behind the foot. This is well modelled and stands in profile on the lower frame of the piece.

B (edge): Broken, retaining marks of four axe blows indicating deliberate separation of fragment from adjoining area of original panel (Howe 2007, 4, fig. 8)

C (reverse): Roughly cut back, with chisel marks remaining, to form the inner surface of the box.

D (edge): Broken

The return preserved on the left of the panel and the slightly cambered upper edge together indicate that the piece formed part of the left-hand corner of the end panel of a gabled box-shaped monument. This has been convincingly reconstructed by Howe (2006, fig. 5; 2007, 3; Rodwell et al. 2008, fig. 9; see Fig. 49) as being approximately 80 cm (31.5 in) wide, with a low gable and, given the undecorated nature of the back panel (preserved in the return), was likely designed to stand against a wall, with the front and two end panels displayed (Rodwell 2006b, 13). As discussed by Hawkes (Rodwell et al. 2008, 17; see also Rodwell 2004, 25) the absence of any sign of a base integral to the panel indicates that the original monument was a shrine chest, perhaps containing a coffin (Cramp 2006b, 4), rather than being a sarcophagus or a composite funerary monument as suggested by Brown (2007, 14), and was covered by either a V-shaped lid or, perhaps more likely, two single slabs resting on the slightly cambered gable ends and lower horizontal upper edge of the front of the chest, as implied in Howe’s reconstruction; this would have allowed access to the contents of the shrine, as seems to have been the practice at sites of saints’ cults throughout the Middle Ages. Given the early documentary account of the episcopal centre at Lichfield provided by Bede in his Ecclesiastical History (which is followed in the ninth-century Old English Life: Vleeskruyer 1953), it seems reasonable to assume, as Rodwell has done, followed by Howe, Cramp and Brown, that this elaborate funerary arrangement marked the early site of the shrine of St Chad, the focus of the liturgical rituals associated with the initial development of the cult of the saint during the later eighth and early ninth centuries (Rodwell et al. 2008, 17–19). As the remains of a funerary monument, Lichfield 1 provides further evidence of the varied nature of such monuments and the apparent interest in such high-status memorials that seems to have flourished in the region during the period (see for example Bakewell 34 and Wirksworth 5 in Derbyshire).

Furthermore, the date of the piece, suggested archaeologically and historically, is not inconsistent with the art-historical evidence. As has been noted (Cramp and Hawkes 2004, 1; Rodwell et al. 2008, 19–20) the figural style of the angel and his clothing find their ultimate inspiration in early Christian art. The distinctive neckline of the angel’s tunica and the arrangement of the robe round his legs strongly suggest the impact of an early model, such as the fifth- / sixth-century Cotton Genesis (London, BL MS Cotton Otho B. VI; see Fig. 30, p. 75). The naturalistic pose of the angel is very rare. It captures the moment of alighting with the left foot resting on the ‘ground’ of the lower frame while the right (front) foot is held in arrested motion, slightly above ground-level, as it is brought down onto the ground. This is a complex pose which is difficult to produce in painted and sculptured form and is not found with any regularity after the early Christian period, where it is also reproduced only rarely. It is preserved in the Cotton Genesis, where it is used for some of the figures in the Garden of Paradise, but is not found in later (Carolingian) art based on late antique and early Christian prototypes; in these contexts it is the three-quarter turned or fully frontal pose that tends to be adopted (e.g. ivory cover of the Lorsch Gospels).This suggests that, like much Anglo-Saxon sculpture of late eighth- and early ninth-century date from Northumbria, and Mercian carvings of the same date (at Breedon, Leicestershire, and Castor and Fletton, Huntingdonshire: Cramp 2006b, 3; Rodwell et al. 2008, 19–28), the Lichfield angel was based on a good-quality late antique/early Christian model rather than being copied from a Carolingian intermediary.

The features it does share with the continental angelic figures, such as those preserved in the Cotton Genesis and the sixth-century British Museum Archangel ivory from Constantinople (Cormack and Vassilaki 2008, 383, cat. 21: see Ill. 663)–the curled long hair, the ribbon through the hair, the well-rounded features, the coherently rendered tunica and pallium, the long floriate rod, the hand held in blessing–all point to sources of early date. Furthermore, as Cramp (2006b, 3–4; Rodwell et al. 2008, 20) has suggested, the detail of the deeply drilled pupils, common to so much Mercian and Northumbrian sculpture, may well indicate that the model lying behind the Lichfield figure was ivory, while the co-incidence of shared, unusual features that the angel has with the figures of the Cotton Genesis, suggests this model may have emerged from an eastern Mediterranean centre as did the Genesis manuscript.

In addition to suggesting the nature of the model lying behind the Lichfield angel, the distinctive pose and attributes also point to the now-lost iconographic context of the figure. It has been suggested that it can be understood to portray the angel who visited Chad prior to his death (Henderson 2007a; 2007b). This however, is unlikely, both because detailed iconographic cycles of saints’ lives seem not to have emerged in medieval art before the tenth century, and because the literary tradition associated with Chad, preserved by Bede and the ninth-century Old English Vita, only records the sound of angelic singing around Chad’s oratory before his death, and Chad ascending with a host of angels at his death. The visitor cited by Bede, rather than being an angelic figure, is identified as Chad’s brother, Cedd (Rodwell et al. 2008, 28–9). Alternatively, it has been suggested that the Lichfield angel can be identified in keeping with the figures of archangels featured within a sepulchral context on the late seventh-century wooden coffin of Cuthbert, where they were disposed as rows of half-length figures on one end and one side of the coffin (Cramp 2006b, 2; Brown 2007, 13). However, the full-length, slightly three-quarter turned and alighting pose of the Lichfield angel suggests that it did not function within an iconographic programme strictly analogous to this. Rather, the distinctive pose (half-turned to the right) and floriate staff indicate that he was one of a pair of figures and was in the act of communicating with the second figure, while also including the viewer in his gaze.

In the corpus of early medieval Christian art this strongly suggests that he was part of an Annunciation scene (Cramp and Hawkes 2004, 1; Cramp 2006b, 3–4; Rodwell 2003–5, 3; 2006b, 13; Brown 2007, 13–14; Rodwell et al. 2008, 29–33). The Annunciation is depicted with some regularity in Anglo-Saxon sculpture: in Northumbria, on the Ruthwell cross (Dumfriesshire) and the Hovingham shrine panel (Yorkshire); and elsewhere more locally on Wirksworth 5, Derbyshire (Ill. 454), and Sandbach Market Place 1 in Cheshire (Hawkes 2003c, 367). All can be dated to the late eighth or early ninth centuries, while the occurrence of the scene in funerary contexts at Wirksworth (late eight century), and Hovingham (early ninth century), indicate that this event would not be out of place in the iconographic programme of the shrine at Lichfield.

While the Virgin of the Annunciation is missing, the full iconographic significance of the scene cannot be determined. However, the pose of the angel in the act of alighting does suggest that the emphasis of the scene was probably on the initial appearance of the angel, and so would have referred to the Virgin’s humility, obedience and virginal purity (as on Wirksworth 5), in addition to the theme universally conveyed by the event: the forthcoming salvation of humanity promised by Christ’s incarnation, as is the case at Hovingham (Hawkes 1993). While such an iconographic programme speaks to the resurrection of the dead awaiting the body set within, it also refers to the promise of salvation made to those venerating the shrine. Within the setting of Lichfield and the ascetic life followed by Chad which Bede describes in some detail (H.E. IV.3, in Colgrave and Mynors 1969, 336–47; see also Vleeskruyer 1953), this set of references would have been particularly apposite: the promise of eternal life and the general resurrection at the end of time made possible by Christ’s incarnation and sacrifice on the cross, and foretold by the angel at the Annunciation, are themes suitable to any funerary context, while the purity, humility and obedience exemplified by the Virgin are particularly appropriate within an ecclesiastical (monastic) setting and in relation to Chad himself–who had dedicated the first church at Lichfield to Mary.

While such hypotheses cannot be proved, the angel’s origins (being attendant on the heavenly throne), and the nature of the forthcoming Christ Child (as the Divine made human), both of which were central to perceptions of the Annunciation, both imply emphasis on the divinity of Christ, as does the polychrome adhering to the angel’s clothing, which as Howe’s analysis demonstrates was bright yellow modelled with red, with white highlights (Howe 2006; Geary and Howe 2009). This very specific colouration is highly suggestive of gold and silver, the red modelling on the folds of the garments probably being intended to reproduce the effect of the precious red-gold (read) often referred to in Old English literature (Lerner 1951, 249; see also Dodwell 1982, 34–43; Casson 1997). It can thus be understood as a visual articulation of the heavenly nature of angelic messengers which is such a common theme in biblical accounts of angels, and in the early Christian exegesis of such figures, most notably in the work of Gregory the Great which was followed by Bede (e.g. Homelia I.3 on Advent: Hurst 1955, 15; Martin and Hurst 1991, 20). Repeatedly in such literature, the angelic messengers are regarded as shining creatures, largely because they shared their nature with God (Hawkes 2007a, 445–8). Thus, the depiction of the Lichfield angel in white and (red-)yellow demonstrates that the centre responsible for its production was fully cognisant of such considerations and chose to portray Gabriel of the Annunciation accordingly as an added means of referring to the divine nature of the future Christ Child.

It is to these heavenly references that the flowering stem held by Gabriel and the foliate motifs at his feet offer further commentary. The staff held by archangels is a common feature of early Christian art, deriving from late imperial art where it denoted the staff of office of messengers from the imperial throne. As an angelic attribute in Christian art it thus identifies the angel as attendant on and messenger from the heavenly throne; it is depicted as such in other Anglo-Saxon contexts: at Hovingham, Breedon and Fletton, for instance. The distinctly foliate nature of the terminal at Lichfield, however, differentiates it from other instances. While the bud and leaves topping the Lichfield angel’s staff, and the open leaves of the plants at his feet may well comprise references to the paradisial garden of heaven (Cramp 2006b, 1; Brown 2007, 14; see also Jewell 1986; 2001), they may also refer to the rod of Jesse, the means by which Christ’s human nature was signified from a very early date (Schiller 1971a, 15; Hawkes 1997a). Based on the prophecy of Isaiah 11.1: ‘and there shall come forth a rod (virga) out of the stem (radix) of Jesse, and a flower (flos) shall grow out of his stem’ (et egredietur virga de radice Iesse et flos de radice eius ascendet), the stem was understood to refer to Jesse, the rod to the Virgin (virgo), and the flower of the rod to Christ. Thus, the stem at the angel’s feet could have been intended as a reference to the human ancestry of Christ, the staff held by the angel as a reference to the Virgin (of the House of David), and the flowering tip of the rod, to Christ, the divine made human. It would thus refer to ‘the birth of Christ after the flesh’ (Rodwell et al. 2008, 33), and so to the exercise of his free will in taking on human form, a tenet of faith that was confirmed in Anglo-Saxon England during the later seventh century at the Council of Hatfield, and one that was central to understanding of the nature of Christ’s salvation on the cross of the crucifixion (Cubitt 1995, 252-8; Cramp and Hawkes 2004, 1; Ó Carragáin 2005, 81–3).

The panel thus constitutes a remarkable survival dateable archaeologically and art-historically to the late eighth / early ninth century, at the time of the elevation of Lichfield to archiepiscopal status. Its iconographic details point to dependence on a good quality early Christian (sixth-century) model of eastern Mediterranean origins, and which can probably be identified as depicting the Annunciation.

Late eighth / early ninth century

Rodwell 2003, 6–7; Rodwell 2003–5, 3, cover illustration; Rodwell 2004, 24–5; Cramp and Hawkes 2004; (—) 2006, 7, cover illustration; Cramp 2006b; Dinsmore 2006; Howe 2006; Rodwell 2006a, 13–14, pls. on 12–13; Rodwell 2006b; Sanderson 2006; Brown 2007, 8–19, col. pl. III; Henderson 2007a; Henderson 2007b, 53; Howe 2007; Lott 2007; Rodwell, Hawkes, Howe and Cramp 2008, 48–108, figs. 6–9, 18–35, 37–8; Geary and Howe 2009, 165–79, figs. 1–10; Karkov 2011, 79–81, 82, 83, 84, 85, pl. 3; Bergius 2012, 9, 11 n.13, 12, 20, 23, 92, 104, 105, 106, 119, 135, 150, 151, 167, 176, 177–9, 181 n.159, 193, 389, fig. 4.25; Bryant 2012, 19, 115, ill. 783; Rodwell 2012a, 177, fig. 192a–b; Rodwell 2012b, 49, fig. 24; Webster 2012, 26–8, 132–3, fig. 9; Bryant 2015, 32, 36, figs. 38b, 41a–d