There is a slender marble column rising up at the foot of Wells Cathedral’s celebrated Chapter House steps. It floats off the wall behind it, supporting a boss from which the rib-vaulting of the ceiling above flares upward. Beneath the marble, a plain stone corbel is locked into the wall and this in turn is held aloft by a jauntily-carved figure. It is one of many carved figures for which Wells is famous, but this one even in its easy playfulness bears an unmistakable message.
The steps to the Chapter House
Wearing a belted cloak with a collar and a hood, the figure appears to support the mass of stone overhead. It seems no great effort. The face is serene, unwrinkled, lacking in drama. A door might simply be being held ajar as a matter of courtesy. This monk, we assume, leans on a crutch that’s angled downwards into the mouth of what might be a dragon, his own right foot standing on one of the beast’s legs.
Corbel supporting stone vault ceiling above the Chapter House steps at Wells Cathedral
The Chapter House steps at Wells Cathedral (1286 - 1460)
As we contemplate these glorious steps into the Chapter House, this figure is welcoming us with an easy gaze. He appears to be holding up the building, while at the same time keeping the monsters of the underworld at bay. The message is that you are safe here: an all-protective faith is at work, which is just as well given what lies ahead …
The Chapter House steps at Wells Cathedral (1286 - 1460), partially looking into the Chapter House
The Chapter House steps at Wells Cathedral (1286 - 1460) looking down from outside the Chapter House
The worn profile of the steps themselves is in harmony with the larger design. The line of ancient footfall (surely one of the oldest desire paths in existence), which mounts on the left side, highlights the unusability of the right side of the middle section. These dozen or so steps tumble out of the Chapter House as we rise towards them, turning 90 degrees towards us as they do so. They seem to pivot round a further column on the right-hand wall, not unlike the way a wide spiral staircase might turn on a central column. Any exit down from the Chapter House through the arch above this is today sensibly blocked by a table to prevent disasters. Narrowing to a point that supports no tread, these dozen or so steps do not allow side-by-side ascent or descent on the wider span of steps. It is not the pitch of the steps that is an issue for those using the steps; it is the narrow width of usable step.
This curious arrangement in function, twinned with the puzzle of an open archway above an impossible section of steps, raises questions. What was in the mind of those who built these steps this way? Yet looking again holds the puzzle back, and the overwhelming beauty of the space, with its worn lines, is what the eye registers most. Draw an imaginary line that passes through the centre of each of these steps and one sees a sinuous curve, first concave at the top, then convex, before it straightens out for the remainder of the ancient flight. It could be a natural profile that one might find in the English landscape. (The South Downs here in Sussex is replete with such curves.) However much the surface of each individual step wears over time, this graceful curving within the whole of the vertical plane will remain.
Wells’ Chapter House steps impose patience upon all who use them. As one waits for the expectant on their way up or the bedazzled on their way down, all the while the eye is encouraged to linger. If among other things our great cathedrals offer an exercise in looking, the pinnacle of that is right here.
