Winchester Cathedral, construction of which started in 1073, is a palace of stories – almost a millennium’s worth. Among its many wonders is a chaotic, almost modern west window. The story of this massive mosaic of shattered stained glass is one of frantic whiplash, disorienting social change, and historical upheaval. It is also the story of the first time someone tried to untether this place of worship from its god.
Time has finished the job that Cromwell started. The 43 cathedrals spread across England, despite the robed worshipers wandering their halls, are resolutely secular. The millions of visitors who cross their gates don’t come for God; they come for history and they come for art.
During the English Civil War in the mid-17th century, parliamentary forces, driven by Puritan fervor, vandalized the cathedral. Men on horseback galloped through the nave, dumping out the sacred bones of Saxon kings and queens unceremoniously onto stone floors as they went. The bodies, charred to a crisp, were scattered across the cathedral floor. Winchester was a place of historic power, a former capital of England, and the cathedral was a symbol for the riches and political clout in the community.
Then, religious community members gathered the broken glass and hid it in their family homes, awaiting the return of the Bishops to Winchester. Today, Winchester’s churches sit empty most Sundays. Time has finished the job that Cromwell started.
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