Popular English attractions steeped in rich history

Coventry, England, isn’t among the official top 10 must-see places for tourists to Britain, but it’s a city steeped in history, culture and legend, and well-worth visiting.

It has a world-famous cathedral, a splendid medieval guildhall with life-size stone sculptures of Earl Leofric and Lady Godiva, as well as a modern life-size bronze statue of a naked Godiva on horseback.

In 1043, Leofric and Godiva were granted a royal charter to found St. Mary’s Abbey/Cathedral. They lavished riches on the educated, culturally aware Benedictine monks, enabling them to engage the finest craftsmen and artists to extend buildings and educational and agricultural programs.

These combined efforts laid the foundations for Coventry to become one of the four most important English cities in the Middle Ages. Godiva pleaded with Leofric to abolish the ensuing heavy taxes that burdened the townspeople. Exasperated by her persistence, he agreed – provided she rode naked through the town. He didn’t believe his modest, religious wife would do it.

Godiva commanded people to stay indoors and lock windows and doors during her horseback ride. One man who peeped out his window became blind. This tidbit emerged 500 years later, and it’s an integral part of the legend. The life-size statue in Broadgate, the light-hearted “Peeping-Tom” clock which enacts the story as the bells strike the hour, the exhibitions at the Herbert Art Gallery and Museum and the annual Godiva Parade pay tribute to Godiva’s importance in the city’s history. The shocked Leofric abolished taxes.

The cathedral/monastery was destroyed in 1538 by Henry VIII’s Dissolution of Monasteries edict. St. Michael’s Church, built circa 1100, was designated Coventry’s second cathedral in 1918 and was felled by another violent act. German bombing on Nov. 14, 1940, destroyed it. The 300-foot Gothic spire remained standing and became a symbol of hope and determination for the rebuilding of the city and cathedral.

When Jock Forbes, the cathedral’s stonemason, gathered with other officials to inspect the damage, he found two partially burned oak roof beams, tied them together to form a rough cross and placed it amid the smoldering ruins. The provost instructed him to hew an altar in the ruins’ apse, with the words “Father Forgive” carved behind the wooden cross.

“We want to emphasize the message of forgiveness,” he said.

Millions learned of this when the cross spent a year at the 1964 World’s Fair in New York.

The decision to rebuild on the old site was made in 1947. A competition for the new design was announced and was won by Basil Spence, who envisioned the new cathedral emerging from the old. Graham Sutherland, an official war artist, was instructed to design a massive tapestry for display behind the High Altar, and John Hutton was commissioned to design a glass wall to link the ruins and new cathedral. The result is a stunning tribute to mankind’s spirit, endurance, creativity and ability to forgive and reconcile.

The 70-foot-high and 45-foot-wide glass wall, with 66 larger-than-life engraved figures, forms the entrance to the new building and embraces the reflection of the bombed ruins, thereby creating the illusion that the old cathedral is inside the new one. The breathtaking Sutherland tapestry of Christ the King is every bit as stunning as the stained-glass of traditional cathedrals.

Worldwide artists and donors have contributed. Helen Huntington Jennings, from Norman, Okla., sculpted the head of a crucified Jesus with metal from a crashed car; a poem has been added:

“The crucifixions of man by man,

in careless driving as in war,

are only redeemed by love.”

A German, who lost his entire family in an Allied bombing, provided money to build an International Center for Reconciliation in the ruins. It was opened in 1960 by the Bishop of Berlin.

Standing in the devastated ruins, whilst witnessing the modern cathedral standing at right angles on a north-south axis, evokes deep emotions and creates a sense of hope for the future.

I was glad to sit over a pot of tea in Benedict’s cafe, in the cathedral’s crypt, and reflect on the lessons to be learned from the past, and possibilities for reconciliation and forgiveness at all levels of life.