The Cross in Ritual, Architecture and Art — Key Ideas to Explore

Catalog Subjects vs. Actual Content

The catalog lists only “Crosses” as a subject, but the excerpts reveal a narrower focus: Tyack concentrates on the cross as a physical artifact in British history, especially in England and Scotland. The book is less a theological treatise than a record of civic and ecclesiastical monuments. For instance, the Edinburgh Cross is discussed not for its religious symbolism but as a site of proclamations and public punishments—John Knox was burned in effigy there, and a priest was “tyed to the cross” for saying mass. The Bristol market cross is traced through its demolition, rebuilding, and second demolition, with Tyack noting the “disgrace” of a public subscription funding its removal. This emphasis on destruction and replacement, rather than on the cross’s ritual meaning, suggests the work is as much about historical preservation as about iconography.

The Cross as a Secular and Civic Object

Tyack repeatedly highlights the cross’s secular uses. The Edinburgh Cross served as a platform for royal proclamations and executions; the Bristol cross was a market structure with statues of kings. The chapter “Public Crosses” opens by stating that crosses were “chiefly secular in use.” This is supported by examples like the Coventry cross, “reared” by a knight, and the Glastonbury market cross, which offered “ample accommodation and shelter beneath its wide arches.” Tyack’s language is often moralizing: he laments the “careless treatment” of old crosses and praises modern replacements as “reparation.” The cross emerges as a marker of civic identity, subject to the whims of trade and fashion, rather than a purely religious symbol.

Tyack’s Method and Limitations

Tyack’s method is anecdotal and antiquarian. He draws on local histories and his publisher’s collection of “works, notes, and pictures.” He does not cite primary sources systematically, and his narrative is shaped by a desire to record what has been lost. For example, the Bristol cross is described in vivid detail—its “vermilion, and blue, and gold”—but the source of this description is not given. Tyack also includes dramatic episodes, such as the priest pelted with “Easter egges” at Edinburgh Cross, which enliven the text but may reflect partisan accounts. The excerpts show no engagement with theological debates about the cross’s use in worship; instead, the book is a compilation of historical incidents and architectural descriptions, useful for its compilation of English examples but limited in analytical depth.

Readers should approach this book as a period piece of Victorian antiquarianism, valuable for its documentation of crosses that no longer exist or have been altered. Tyack’s moral tone—praising restorations and condemning demolitions—reflects late-19th-century preservationist attitudes. The work is best used as a source of specific historical anecdotes and descriptions, not as a comprehensive study of the cross’s symbolism. Cross-reference with modern architectural histories for accuracy.

Staring at old market crosses, I think of my grandmother’s cracked plaster crucifix, and how she traced it each night. That same quiet reverence for worn objects surfaced when I read Thoughts on Art and Autobiographical Memoirs of Giovanni Duprè — Background and Themes. Both books make me feel the artist’s hand surviving ruin, a hush around what time has touched but not erased.