|  | Glory to God
        in the highest, and on earth peace, goodwill toward men.
        So sang the angels on that first Christmas morning, and
        images of them, and their message, will appear on a
        million Christmas cards, usually in the form of gilded
        manuscripts or Renaissance paintings, or lurid females in
        the Pre-Raphaelite manner. 
            
                |  |  | That
                mediaeval manual of church lore The Golden
                Legend, put angels firmly in their place, mid-way
                between man and God. Man understood that though
                angels are our keepers, our ministers, our
                brethren and our neighbours, they were also the
                bearers of our souls into heaven and representers
                of our prayers unto God, right noble knights of
                the King of Heaven, who dwell in the royal hall,
                accompanying the King of Kings and singing songs
                of gladness to his honour and glory. It is no wonder,
                then, that angels had such an important place in
                the decoration of our mediaeval churches, or
                indeed that nearly seven hundred churches in
                England were dedicated to St. Michael and All
                Angels.  |  
            
                | 
                    
                        | Look
                        upward at the timber roofs at Knapton, Swaffham
                        or Cawston in Norfolk,
                        March in
                        Cambridgeshire or Woolpit or Blythburgh in Suffolk,
                        and the angelic host flutters overhead in
                        its multitudes, 160 figures at Knapton
                        alone: angels with spread wings on the
                        wall-plates, angels standing against the
                        hammer-beams and on the bosses. Their
                        groupings suggest that the designers,
                        whoever they were, wished to present a
                        structure not only of craftsmanship, but
                        of worship also. The hierarchy of the
                        angels, Seraphim, Cherubim and Thrones,
                        Dominions, Virtues and Powers,
                        Principalities, Archangels and Angels,
                        dating back to the sixth century and
                        gleaned from various biblical sources,
                        including St. Pauls list of
                        supernatural beings, is strictly adhered
                        to, as it is on the screen at Barton Turf. |  |  |  |  |  
            
                |  |  | In
                sculpture, some of the most moving carvings are
                the flying angels high up on the walls at
                Bradford on Avon (Wiltshire), probably carved in
                connection with a Saxon Rood which no longer
                exists. At Rowlestone, in Herefordshire, four
                angels fly upside down supporting the figure of
                Christ in Majesty and at Salle, in Norfolk,
                feathered figures with censers appear on either
                side of the west door.. The feathers have the
                appearance of a tightly fitting garment, cut low
                around the neck, whilst the sleeves end loosely
                above the elbows, and the legs are bare below the
                knees. Less well known is the carved angel
                orchestra on either side of the Annunciation on
                the sumptuous porch at Pulham St. Mary - one side for the
                wind and one for the strings. |  
            
                | Inside the
                church angels are everywhere. The wonderful angel
                roofs of East Anglia have already been mentioned,
                but we find angels adorning fonts, bench-ends,
                screens and windows. Often they are shown just
                from the waist up, known as demi-angels, and
                might support the bowl of an elaborately carved
                font, as at Upton, or peer out from
                behind the figures of saints, as at Litcham. Sometimes they are
                given pride of place to themselves, as above the
                main figures adorning the side altars at Ranworth. 
 Angels occur over and over again in ancient
                glass, often carrying inscribed scrolls,
                displaying the Te Deum, the Nunc Dimittis or
                Gloria in excelsis. In churches dedicated to the
                Virgin Mary, Marian antiphons are common: Salve
                Regina or Ave Regina caelorum. Some carry
                shields, and are often carved on the side of
                tombs, but the most common accessory of these
                mediaeval angels seems to be musical instruments.
 |  |  
            
                |  |  | Paintings,
                carving or stained glass, music seems to be
                everywhere, and the angelic orchestra contains
                the harp, the viol, the organ, the lute (in
                various forms,) bagpipes, cymbals, tambours - the
                list is endless, and conforms fairly strictly
                with Psalm 150: Praise him with the sound of the
                trumpet; praise him with the psaltery and harp.
                Little remains in situ, but there are excellent
                figures at Cawston and Bale, and two particularly well
                preserved examples at East Barsham, one playing the
                harp and one the cornetto, where the mouthpiece
                is carefully depicted. There are countless angels
                in sentimental Victorian windows, but the
                extraordinary church at Booton has a fine all-girl
                orchestra, whilst the angels in the Resurrection
                window at Walsoken have a timeless
                beauty. |  
            
                | There is a
                legend that Palestrina composed his Missa Papae
                Marcelli under the direct influence of an angelic
                host. Improbable, no doubt, but just look up at
                the Angel Choir at Lincoln or the vault above the
                High Altar at Gloucester, or gaze in amazement at
                those hammer-beam roofs in East Anglia and hear
                in your mind the chorus of flying angels at the
                end of Mahlers Symphony of a Thousand
                or the serene angelic voices which close
                Berliozs Lenfance du Christ,
                music that emanates from Heaven alone, shared
                between oneself and ones maker, and in
                doing so you can capture some of the spirit and
                imagination of those incredible artists and
                craftsmen who lavished such skill on decorating
                our churches all those centuries ago. |  |  |  Tom Muckley, 1999 rev. 2006
 
 
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