To spot the Glastonbury Market Cross, look straight into the center of the small open square ahead. Rising right in front of the surrounding market stalls, you’ll see a tall, stone spire that’s impossible to miss. It stands much higher than anyone’s hat-and it almost pokes the sky! The stone is pale and weathered, decorated with ornate tracery and pointy details. If you’re scanning the scene and spot an octagonal stone base with a slender column shooting upwards, crowned by a spire and a small cross, congratulations-you’re looking at the Market Cross.
Now, imagine yourself standing here in 1846. The market square would have been full of chatter and the clatter of hoofbeats as farmers and townsfolk gathered to trade. The brand-new Market Cross would have soared above everyone, glistening in the Somerset sun. It was designed by Benjamin Ferrey, and the locals thought it looked a bit like one of those fancy French structures, or maybe even the ancient crosses of England.
Funny thing: this isn’t the first cross to stand on this spot. The old one, with clustered pillars and a roof, eventually fell down-let’s just say, time has no mercy, especially over a few centuries. Around 1806, it was gone, and the square felt a bit empty for a while. But thanks to Mr. T. Porch (great name, right?), who owned the Abbey down the road, Glastonbury finally got a replacement. When The Gentleman’s Magazine showed up to review the new cross, they didn’t hold back: “elegant,” “imposing,” and a “great ornament.” High praise indeed!
The cross stands 38 feet tall, built from creamy Bath stone. Get closer and you’ll see all sorts of carved finials and lacy stonework. I have to say, for a giant spiky sculpture in the middle of a market, it’s pretty easy on the eyes. And just think-market-goers have been meeting and gossiping right here for over a century and a half.
So take a moment and picture market day long ago: a swirl of smells, banter, and maybe a sheep or two on the run (hopefully not toward your picnic). The Market Cross, then as now, keeps a silent watch over all the drama and deals of Glastonbury’s bustling heart.
