Pilgrim Souvenirs: Becket, Badges, and Sea Shells

Freddie Chodel (Visitor Services Officer, Canterbury Museums & Galleries) takes inspiration from the history of Canterbury pilgrimage:

The Most Revd and Rt Hon Dame Sarah Elizabeth Mullally. The new Archbishop of Canterbury. The 106th Archbishop and the groundbreaking first woman to take that post. Mullally was also another first for at least a hundred years in fact: she undertook a pilgrimage as Archbishop-in-waiting before her enthronement. Over her six day long 140km journey, along the scallop-shell-post lined (more on that mollusc later) Becket Camino way, from London to Canterbury, she carried with her a staff.

^{Carved wooden spoons depicting characters from Chaucer’s ‘Canterbury Tales’}

The staff was one identifier of that person’s purpose and they were often combined with others. Badges either pinned or sewn to items of clothing, often along the hem of your cloak, or stitched into the brim of your hat. Ampullae, hollow containers for the transport of water or oil, worn tied around your neck. Figures dressed like this were a common sight during the middle ages, it meant one thing: here be a pilgrim.

It spoke of your devotion, your purpose, and your ultimate aim: a desire for a personal and spiritual transformation once you’d completed your journey. The stakes were high. Returning home you would take these symbols of your pilgrimage with you. These items could cure or keep other members of your family well, be used to charm the security of your home, help your business flourish, or strengthen the yield of your crops for another year.

A journey well worth your while. But a dangerous one nonetheless. The perils were myriad: you could fall into a river, be attacked by thieves or brigands, or be frazzled to a crisp by an errant bolt of lightning. These items were a must for the pilgrim, if merely to preserve your physical body intact during your trip. They held much power. You better saddle up or walk and get one of these badges. Better join a group at a nearby inn for safety in numbers, and why not exchange some tales on your way there and back for some loose change whilst you’re at it?

Collectively these symbols are termed pilgrimage souvenirs. If the word ‘souvenir’ seems to have modern or commercial connotations, their popularity and international range were due to an industry that manufactured and sold these objects in their hundreds of thousands at their peak in the 15th century. They managed to inhabit an array of meaning: a form of spiritual memento; an object of power akin to an amulet; and were also a mass produced commodity purchased in high quantity. But how did this trade in pilgrimage souvenirs start, where, and when? Well the answer involves the veneration of a biblical saint in Spain, a mollusc, and some light religious vandalism.

St. James, Sea Shells, and a Field of Stars

To some extent any object obtained on pilgrimage could be considered to have a commemorative aspect. This could mean a bit of dirt, some gravel…hey, whilst no one is looking why not take one of those statues, that would be perfect on the mantelpiece at home! Inevitably this did in fact become quite a bit of a problem, with theft and vandalism causing plenty of damage to pilgrimage shrines. Churches and shrines needed a solution. The opportunity for one arose in Galicia, Spain.

Pilgrims arriving at the shrine of St. James the Great in Santiago de Compostela, would often walk to the nearby coast and collect scallop shells. Why? The mythic connotations are a little hazy on exact details, but the general consensus is that St. James, upon arriving in Spain, rescued either a frightened knight or groom from the sea after their horse had been spooked. Upon doing so the knight/groom emerged safely, but was now festooned with scallop shells. This colourful story about the mollusc and the saint connected both in the mind of the pilgrim. Holy beachcombing meant that numbers of shells eventually dwindled. There was now a gap in the pilgrimage market.

The Church recognised the demand for these much sought after souvenirs, and capitalised upon the opportunity by employing artisans to create these scallop badges, and ampullae, from metals such as pewter and tin. This had multiple implications: the pilgrim could be provided with their souvenir, their devotion to the saint observed; the means to their salvation activated. The shrine itself was protected from further damage; and it birthed an industry which The Church operated, encouraged, and enjoyed enormous financial benefit from. The image of the scallop transformed from simply being the symbol of St. James, and had now become the symbol of pilgrimage itself.

^{Pilgrim Badges depicting Thomas Becket}

Miracles of St. Thomas

Here at The Beaney, we have a number of these souvenirs connected to St. Thomas. Most in the form of an artistic representation of his Mitred head. His head held particular significance in large part due to the grisly manner of his death, and that one of the reliquaries a medieval pilgrim travelling to Canterbury Cathedral could hope to see, or perhaps even kiss, would be his skull fragment held in the golden reliquary housed in the Corona Chapel. The relationship between saint, the chosen iconography, to specific reliquary, and to the individual pilgrim could not be clearer.

His violent murder in 1170, sent shockwaves through Europe, which led to Canterbury becoming one of the most visited sites of medieval pilgrimage. Well four main shrines to be exact. You could choose to visit The Trinity Chapel, and view a casket laden with remains and bejewelled treasures; the aforementioned Corona Chapel and see the golden skull; the Martyrdom Chapel, the site of the murder and look at the point of the sword that struck the fatal blow; or visit St.Thomas’s Tomb, and seek healing where his body had initially been laid to rest. Drops of his blood were mixed with water, and became known as ‘Canterbury Water’ – capable of legendary feats of healing. Very handy to have an ampullae nearby at this point. It is no surprise then, that a number of Becket souvenirs have designs that included the scallop shell – it reinforced the shrine of Becket as the preeminent site of pilgrimage in the kingdom, comparable in holy importance to the shrines at Compostela, Rome, and even Jerusalem.

With the promise of miracles, pilgrim numbers along with souvenirs were extraordinarily high. These large numbers of production have in turn have led to a great array of archaeological discovery. A slightly unusual commonality connects most found pilgrim souvenirs, in that they are often found near rivers and waterways. Why would this be the case? If they were sacred objects, why does it follow that many seem to have been deliberately dispensed with by the pilgrim in such a way. The answer rather unsurprisingly is not so clear, but could possibly be pleasingly human in nature.

For some time the belief that souvenirs found in rivers and water routes hinted at some long forgotten religious or sacred rite: returning the icon to something elemental after completing your journey of devotion. Whilst this seems a neat tying up of religious knots at the end of the pilgrims’ journey, other more prosaic and practical reasons have been put forward: these copies of religious iconographies once used for their transformative purpose were simply disposed of. The power of the saint transferred to you via your show of devotion, and was not then still inherent in the souvenir. Some of these riverbank found souvenirs also show signs of damage, as if the very material from which they are made have been tested for metal quality and potential repurpose.

It is easy to view the medieval pilgrim as one mass body: stripped of personality, individuality, and thought. Religious and superstitious automatons responding to a belief system of the age, to find answers and security, which were often scarce. Motivations for undertaking such a journey were wide and varied, and encompassed all tiers of society. To be in contact with the saint at your chosen shrine, to travel through landscapes, often through very real peril, it is understandable why these souvenirs could offer a sense of protection. All motivations that would make such a pilgrimage worth making, and one you can take to this day, pass those scallop shell inscribed posts, from London to Canterbury, much like our new Archbishop.

^{Illustration by Freddie Chodel.}

You can see a new display of Pilgrim Badges in the People & Places gallery at The Beaney.