Day 1: Maria Durch Ein Dornwald Ging - in St Mary’s Church Willesden
We begin at St Mary’s Church, Willesden, amid the bustle of the church Food Bank. This was a famous Medieval pilgrimage destination, with a Black Madonna statue and holy well. Today, the vicar blesses tap water in glass bottles. The old well still flows in the cellar, but groundwater in modern London needs pretty robust filtration. There is a new black Madonna statue.
This German carol emphasises how European the British pilgrimage tradition once was. This song was taught to me at Christmas in a stranger’s home on Dartmoor, while I was walking to Cornwall from Canterbury. The teacher’s family had been kept alive from this song (and others) in the Jewish ghettoes of WW2, when all their possessions were taken, and only their family music (and hope) remained.
The song tells of Mary carrying Jesus ‘under her heart’ (in her womb), and how as they walk through the thornwood, it blossoms as roses after 7 years without flowering. To me, it’s a manifesto of how walking with holiness can transform Nature, and the very land through which you walk.
Day 2: Daddy Fox - on the Griffin Hole Holy Well
Pilgrimage is not just for humans. This song tells of Daddy Fox making a long journey to the wholeness of feeding his family supper. This is doubtless the origin of all Wayfaring and pilgrimage. Daddy Fox finds the blessing he seeks, and despite the distance and danger, returns home to share the goodness.
This was recorded stood on the Griffin Hole Holy Well, Hertfordshire. The well was pilgrim-proofed by a heavy iron grille, so though I couldn’t reach the water or drink from it, it was a bit like walking on water…
The Griffin is a mythic double king – both lion and eagle – with a reputation for guarding great treasure. And Daddy Fox is the rogue pilgrim prince of the British hedgerows.
Day 3: To Be A Pilgrim - in Little Munden Church
This pilgrim classic was sung in All Saints Church, Little Munden, whose church and school stand on the crest of a holy hill, while the rest of the village sits half a mile away.
With lyrics from John Bunyan, and a melody found by Vaughan Williams in deep Sussex, this is perhaps Britain’s most well known song of pilgrimage. Bunyan wrote this poem in the post-pilgrimage British landscape, while locked in jail for non-conformism. But his portrayal of the pilgrim’s challenges – and rewards – still ring true today.
Come wind or weather, a pilgrim stays constant to his purpose. Discouragement from others, often telling undermining stories about pilgrimage, will spur the pilgrim onward with ever greater determination. A pilgrim cultivates fearlessness, refusing to be daunted by lions, giants, hobgoblins and foul fiends. And the labours of walking, living outside and travelling slowly, allows you to inherit life, to truly claim your birthright as a living human.
It’s all here.
Day 4: What Wondrous Love - in Royston Caves
At the meeting point of two ancient paths, the Icknield Way and Ermine Street, stands a rock called the Rosy Stone, and around it a town: Royston.
We arrived here on day four of our pilgrimage, and after a quest to find the very rare Pasque flowers, county flower of Cambridgeshire and Hertforshire. They only grow on one hillside in the whole county now!
Taking breakfast by the Rosy Stone, at the heart of the town, to my disgust the ancient stone was full of foul gloopy water. Where a cross once rose from the stone is now a hollow, a font – and it was full of chicken bones and cigarette butts. So using the perfect breakfast toolkit of a milk carton (to scoop out the liquids), and cereal packet plastic inner (a glove to remove debris) plus the cardboard cereal box (a bin for the foulness) – I was able to clean the Rosy Stone, and refill it with fresh spring water.
Immediately, all around, nothing really changed.
“What the f**k are you doing” one chap enquired. I explained thoroughly. I think he understood.
Royston is an ancient place of people passing through. Hidden deep under its main road lies a secret chamber, a chalk cave carved with images of Gods and legends. Popular local tradition claims it was initiation chamber for Knights Templar. It is also allegedly a meeting point for two great ley-lines (lie-lanes), the Michael and the Mary line. Whatever the details, it is clearly a holy place. Singing in here was unsettlingly vast and awesome. We could feel the song more than we could hear it. Guy, whose musical training is impeccably professional, started to sing while stood in the dead centre (that’s very Guy). Amazingly, for the first time I’ve ever seen, he couldn’t hit a note, and his voice wobbled all over the shop, unable to connect with his intention. He looked over at me in panic, like a child whose best toy has disappeared. I pulled him one foot over to one side, and nodded to try again. His voice blossomed like a pasque flower. The Royston cave is bell-shaped. I’m convinced that whatever its ritual purpose, part of its use was song.
‘What Wondrous Love’ is from the American Southern harmony traditions, but like a true pilgrim song, it adapts to whatever holy place it goes…
Day 5: Bold Fisherman - at the Nine Wells, Cambridge
This song was recorded at the incredible Nine Wells near Cambridge, an ancient Beech grove where nine chalk springheads rise to feed Hobson’s Conduit, the old drinking water source for Cambridge. This was perhaps the only patch of ancient growth woodland I encountered in two weeks walking. It stands beside the evermore sprawling Addenbrookes bio-medical complex.
We refreshed ourselves with this cold clear water, filled our bottles and recorded this song.
It is the song of a fisherman, who turns out to be nobility, meeting a young girl. They fall in love and get married. Some folks see this as the common tale of nobility meeting a beautiful maid – though others claim it is a Jesus myth. You decide what suits you best.
Day 6: The Turtle Dove - in Trinity College Chapel, Cambridge
Turtle Doves have long been classical symbols of monogamy and loving faithfulness. Like pilgrims, they often leave their lovers behind – but while they have life, they always return.
This is one of the most popular British folk songs. We recorded it here beneath the marbled ears of intellectual giants – Newton, Tennyson, Bacon etc. – in the sumptuous acoustic of Trinity College Cambridge Antechapel, a vast room of pure marble.
Trinity College was built by Henry VIII from money he took from the monasteries at Reformation when British pilgrimage was banned. Releasing this song of love and return seemed wholly fitting.
Day 7: My Boy Jack - at Lode War Memorial
Rudyard Kipling sent his son ‘Jack’ away to World War One, using his high Establishment connections to overturn the military medical board’s decision that his son’s eyesight was too poor for front-line combat. Kipling didn’t want his son to miss out on military glory.
When Jack died in the mud, gas and industrial horror of the Battle of Loos, Kipling struggled to reconcile his ideas of Empire, Just War and Sacrifice with his paternal feelings of horror and loss. This poem arose as part of his effort to come to terms with it. Many other bereaved parents likely took comfort in these lyrics too.
This was recorded at the war memorial in the village of Lode in Cambridgeshire, which is built in a semi-circular niche, providing great natural amplification. Whether this was the builders’ intent, I do not know.
Rest in peace Jack, and the millions.
Day 8: The Skewbald - under Moulton Pack Horse Bridge, near Newmarket
This song tells the tale of a racehorse called Skewbald, brought to Ireland to compete in a long-distance race. The locals mocked the horse and rider, but soon lost their grins – and their purses – when the Skewbald won and became a great champion.
As well as beneath the arches of Moulton’s ancient pack-horse bridge (near the famous horse-racing town of Newmarket), we also sang this at the grave of the Goldolphin Arabian at Wandlebury, near Cambridge. All British thoroughbreds descend from this magnificent horse, who was brought over from a far-off land (probably Syria), and who was also initially viewed as inferior, just like Skewbald…
Day 9: The Green Blade Rises - in Bury St Edmunds Cathedral
This is a nature-inspired Easter song. I learned it from celebrity pilgrim Revd. Peter Owen-Jones, on top of Firle Beacon in Sussex.
I like to imagine it refers to the regrowth of Wayfaring pilgrimage in Britain.
The track ends with our pilgrim staffs, cut from blackthorn and hazel, tapping the stone floors of the Cathedral cloisters – a sound that the monks of St Edmunsbury would have known well – and that shall soon be heard again…
Day 10: The Life of Man - at Wordwell Church
The passing of seasons is a natural part of human life, just like it is for the leaves on a tree.
At Wordwell church, where we made this recording, we sang ‘The Life of Man’ for a group of local people gathered from the few surrounding houses. The villagers’ landlord had recently died, and many of our audience were ill and facing their own mortality. Later, the church caretaker Bob showed us where he would be buried in the churchyard.
We also sang ‘The Life of Man’ at the centre of Saffron turf maze, having walked the 1.5km labyrinth, a microcosm of our pilgrimage and life itself.
The bell tolling at the end of the track was recorded from our sleeping bags in West Stow’s church porch.
Day 11: All Things Are Quite Silent (in Santon Downham Church)
A traditional song about the Press Gangs – men who legally roamed the country capturing men and sending them off to sea to serve in the Royal Navy. The song tells the tale of the wives and sweethearts left behind, who often did not have a chance to say goodbye, yet had to maintain optimism amid the terrible uncertainty of ever seeing their lover again.
From 1644 to 1814, the Royal Navy had the authority to force any man with nautical experience (back then most people) to go to sea. It was their main fall-back recruitment strategy.
We recorded this at the small church of Santon Downham on the border of Suffolk and Norfolk, the county where Admiral Nelson was born, under whom many would have suffered the fate of the Press Gang. It was recorded during lunch break of a BBC1 filming day.
Day 12: Scarborough Fair - at the top of Swaffham’s Ecotricity Wind Turbine
Recorded at the Green Britain Centre in Swaffham, at the top of the only wind turbine in the world you can climb up. The viewing room is 67 metres above ground, right behind the spinning rotor. We treated this as a holy place, because it represents technology attempting to make the world ‘whole’ again.
I learnt ‘Scarborough Fair’ in its original land, carrying it on pilgrimage from Whitby to Scarborough over four days for a BBC Radio 4 documentary. On this journey, I drank tea made from the four herbs – parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme – given by Martin Carthy’s gardener (Martin is the singer who taught this song to Simon and Garfunkel back in the 60s).
Day 13: Spring is Come - in Castle Acre Motte and Bailey ruins
We made this pilgrimage in glorious weather, when the seed of summer had truly awakened.
This spring carol of renewal was recorded in full sunshine on the hillfort of Castle Acre. It’s from the “Piae Cantiones”, a collection of late Medieval songs.
Day 14: Smugglers’ Song - in Sculthorpe Church Porch
We smuggled a recording of this song at the stroke of midnight, past a vigilant villager who confronted us at Sculthorpe church porch, only a few miles from Walsingham. It’s good getting caught sometimes – it proves the holy places are being looked after. Especially when you get the guardian’s approval, and can really relax.
This was sung this in honour of Peter Bellamy, who was a Norfolk folk singer of great importance, and who went to school in the nearby town of Fakenham.
With words by Rudyard Kipling, this song captures the atmosphere of the smuggling tradition of Sussex. It provides a firm warning to local children not to let the side down. The song portrays smuggling as a gallant community rebellion – though often the truth was far bleaker.
I think this song fits the recordings because pilgrimage was often the excuse for great acts of globalisation - like the creation of roads, and banking houses, and the crusades to Jerusalem. But also, no doubt, many wanderers to holy places were also carrying illicit letters and secret cargoes of duty-free goods. Pilgrimage is both deep Establishment, and also very rebellious. I felt like this summarised Guy and myself.
Day 15: The Wracks of Walsingham (in Walsingham Abbey Crypt)
The shrine of Walsingham was built in 1061. Before the Reformation, this Norfolk village was the second most popular pilgrimage destination in Britain (after Canterbury). The original shrine was built following the dream of a local noblemwoman called Lady Richelda.
This ballad is a lament for the loss of the shrine, after Reformation forces banned pilgrimage and destroyed the monasteries and shrines. It is also a Catholic song of praise to Mary, “the Queen of Walsingham”.
We recorded this ballad in the Crypt of the wracked Walsingham Abbey, after it had accompanied us mantra-like for every footstep of our final 5 miles through sleepy Norfolk lanes to reach Walsingham.
Thanks for listening.
