What scent do you notice when you enter a cathedral for the first time? Most likely, it’s incense. Incense was used out of reverence for the Holy Sacrament, but did you also know that it was intended to dispel odors and keep diseases at bay? Wendy Wauters, author of ‘The Smells of the Cathedral,’ writes about this in her fantastic book that stimulates your senses. She takes you on a journey to one of the most important religious hotspots of the Middle Ages: the Cathedral of Our Lady in Antwerp.
Your book focuses on the ‘Onze-Lieve-Vrouwekerk’ (cathedral since 1559) in Antwerp. What is your personal connection to this place?
I chose this location because of the abundance of preserved sources and the wealth of diverse studies on Antwerp and the Onze-Lieve-Vrouwekerk.
Given that the focus of the research was on perceptions of late medieval churchgoers, there was a need for a well-documented city history and a wide range of primary sources.
Among others, I used city chronicles, egodocuments, the church fabric accounts, the annual accounts of brotherhoods, guilds, and crafts that occupied a side altar in the church, foundation documents, and various contracts.
The reconstruction of the scent and sound landscape, as well as the visual and tactile impressions in a specific church, required a multitude of recent research that each starts from the local uniqueness. Art historical studies were supplemented with legal and environmental studies, archaeology, musicology, and medical history.
Combined with historical images, the research into the functioning of the individual players in the church (especially the chaplains and altar owners) and into the local liturgy, there was a solid and multifaceted foundation for the study of lived practice in a specific building: the Antwerp Cathedral of Our Lady.
about wendy wauters
Wendy Wauters is a PhD in Art History (KU Leuven) with an award-winning dissertation on the experiential world of the medieval churchgoer. After a career as an art director in the advertising sector, she took on the role of head of non-fiction collection development for the Antwerp libraries. She is a sought-after speaker and loves to bring to light the lesser-known stories of the 16th century.
‘The Smells of the Cathedral’ has been published in Dutch and German (at this moment, March 2024). Please come back later for information about the English translation!
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What inspired you to write “The Smells of the Cathedral”?
This book came out of my Ph.D. research, which I did under the promotorship of Barbara Baert at KU Leuven (Department of Art History).
The initial aim was to explore late medieval altar equipment from the Southern Netherlands through the lens of ‘sensory history’—a field that emphasizes the societal importance of sensory experiences. The value we assign to sensory experiences is shaped by the culture we grow up in. In other words, how we experience things through our senses is influenced by time and place.
“Antwerp’s Church of Our Lady is a great place to study lived practice in a specific building”
This scientific field has already produced some case studies on late medieval rituals and the experience of faith. Themes of continuity and change, especially in light of the Reformation’s rise, are often key focuses.
For example, the work of Matthew Milner and Jacob Baum has shown how intertwined religious practices and medical knowledge are for understanding changes in faith practices. The stereotypical view that reformers were against the sensory aspects of liturgical rituals and that Catholicism was too sensory can be reconsidered through this research. And debunking stereotypes is definitely one of the coolest parts of cultural historical research!
A building never stands in isolation. How does the Cathedral of Our Lady relate to other historic cathedrals in Europe in terms of architecture and art?
I find it fascinating to look at a church as a unique entity. Take the Church of Our Lady, for instance; its step-by-step, organic growth process led to numerous changes in its floor plan.
Back in the 14th century, people thought a three-aisled church would be enough, but a hundred years later, it expanded to seven aisles. The slow pace of construction meant that eventually, every church became a unique fingerprint of its location and community. Shifts in the church’s building plan and the blending of architectural styles silently testify to a community in full expansion.
“Every church became a unique fingerprint of its location and community”.
Moreover, local customs, devotions, events like the plague or failed harvests, the establishment of new guilds… all contributed to the addition or removal of altars, foundations for masses, and decorations.
On the other hand, daily concerns about physical and spiritual well-being transcended the boundaries of this city by the Scheldt. From this perspective, the Church of Our Lady is exemplary of the churchgoing experience in wealthy parish churches of urbanized areas in the Low Countries.
Your book is about smells. Can you describe a specific smell that is typical for the Cathedral of Our Lady and explain its historical or emotional significance?
Church buildings and the spicy aroma of incense are still inseparably linked. This is also one of the most fascinating scents because it was used in the past for various reasons. Firstly, out of reverence for the Holy Sacrament, but also to counteract the musty smell of churchgoers in the notoriously poorly ventilated churches.
For example, churchwardens in Rotterdam would purchase incense and juniper berries to drive out the smell of the ‘wild Irish’ (foreigners who were perceived negatively) from the building. There are also blessings where incense was specifically praised for its air-purifying quality: “May the Lord bless this incense to remove every harmful stench, and to kindle it for His sweet fragrance.”
“Church buildings and the spicy aroma of incense are still inseparably linked.”
Moreover, medical science prescribed that diseases could be kept at bay through the use of certain scents: the miasma theory. This medical doctrine suggested that air-borne decaying organic material (miasmas) was at the root of epidemics like the plague. Some common methods to protect yourself from disease-causing air included burning fragrant herbs or carrying pouches with herbal mixtures (pomanders).
In short, ‘good’ scents like incense not only masked the bad smell, but they also prevented sickness since unhealthy air would not linger in your vicinity.
In your book, you mention spending hours in different spots within the cathedral. Which place has become your favorite?
My favorite spot is hidden behind a massive triptych by Peter Paul Rubens (1577-1640) in the northern arm of the transept: a wall painted red, covered up to the vault with a rhythmic pattern of 16th-century woodcuts.
The prints, ranging from thirteen to twenty centimeters high, depict the attributes of John the Evangelist (a chalice with a snake) and John the Baptist (the Lamb of God), along with decorative geometric shapes (quatrefoils) featuring a compass and scroll. These symbols refer to the carpenters’ guild, which had its altar at this location at the time.
It was, and still is, impossible to make out the depictions on the prints in the upper half of the wall. But it’s precisely the abundance and repetition of the symbols, combined with their lack of visibility, that contribute to a sense of awe.
These hidden details were part of a much larger story: the totality of objects and decorative elements reflected the divine status of the building. In essence, this is what every church ideally aimed for: to detach the building from its worldly materiality and transport the believer into a state of ecstasy. Statues of saints, reliquaries, and other objects were thus placed in a thoughtfully arranged setting. The way of presenting was just as important as the object itself.
Are there any special stories or legends associated with the cathedral that are not widely known?
The story of Lijsbet Gielys, ‘Lijse opte trappen’, Aechte Pietersdochter, and Lijsbet Thessels captures the imagination.
In 1491, they were accused by the Antwerp bailiff of lawless behavior. They had sneaked out at night to the gallows field to steal the head and hands of a hanged man. The limbs of executed criminals were believed to possess magical powers. Particularly among prostitutes, the hands and fingers of thieves were coveted for their potent properties. When times were tough, these were used as amulets to attract men.
In a 17th-century chronicle, the accused were thus described as prostitutes. The women performed various rituals with the body parts, such as burying a hand and the head under the threshold of the front and back doors. The second hand was hung in the chimney. In other words, the house’s entrances were protected against evil.
“Four fingers from one of the hands were cut off and hidden at an altar in the Church of Our Lady”.
More importantly, four fingers from one of the hands were cut off and hidden at an altar in the Church of Our Lady. The goal was to have a mass read over them by a priest, so the fingers would be ‘injected’ with the sacred power of the spoken prayer. This was not an isolated incident; a similar event was recorded in Bruges. In the 14th-century farce ‘Die hexe’, nine masses were even read over a thief’s hand.
While this incident may sound very strange to us, it was based on a certain logic. The body/soul was understood as a vessel communicating with the surrounding world, so sensory experiences continuously influenced both living and dead matter. Thus, the power behind a priest’s words and ritual actions could turn an ordinary object, like a severed finger, into a beneficial amulet.
How has the cathedral influenced the urban development of Antwerp over the centuries, and what can still be observed today?
Around 1519, the church administration announced a megalomaniac project, dubbed the Nieuwerck, which aimed to expand the surface area of the Church of Our Lady by a third.
By 1521, the construction plans were ready, and the foundation work for the enormous choir section could begin. On the eastern part of the Green Churchyard, excavation and masonry work kicked off, and it wasn’t long before the outer wall and the massive, protruding buttresses took shape.
Over the following years, houses were built against the new walls, the rent from which would contribute to the construction costs of the Nieuwerck. The current street plan, from the Linen Hall market to the Green Square (Groenplaats), still follows the layout of the ground plan from that time.
The preparatory works for the immense high choir were just completed in time for the laying of the first stone by Charles V on July 15, 1521. In the company of the King of Denmark, Christian II, and Charles’s aunt, Governor Margaret of Austria, the young emperor solemnly laid the consecrated first stone of the high choir.
However, the megalomaniac Nieuwerck would never be completed. Following the devastating church fire of 1533, the project was definitively shelved.
What do you hope people will think or do differently after reading your book?
My hope is that the book leads to a deeper understanding of our medieval contemporaries. What struck me the most during my research are the vast similarities between myself—and people today in general—and these historically distant city dwellers. Their worries and desires were based on similar fears about ourselves and our loved ones.
In the face of illness and death, everyone looks for something to hold onto, regardless of the era we’re born in, but shaped by the culture we grow up in. Five hundred years from now, people will also look back on our customs with a fair amount of astonishment.
Ultimately, a cathedral is a ‘domus dei’, a house of God. Does the cathedral hold any spiritual value for you? How does that manifest?
I’m not religious—treading the line between agnostic and atheist—so from a purely devotional standpoint, I attach no value to any church building. However, I do have deep respect for the historical, cultural, and societal value that I attribute to these buildings.
The current Cathedral of Our Lady breathes history. And it’s gratifying to see that it’s possible to keep this history alive through ‘The Smells of the Cathedral’.
About the Antwerp Cathedral
- Building period: 1350-1521
Height (nave): 27,5 meters
Height (tower): 123 meters
Length (Interior): 119 meters
Width (nave): 53 meters
The Cathedral of Our Lady in Antwerp, a masterpiece of Gothic architecture, was built between 1352 and 1521. The construction began with the choir, completed in 1415, followed by the first phase of the western tower front. An ambitious expansion in the 1430s led to a wider church than originally planned, resulting in a final seven-aisled structure.
Characteristic of Brabantine Gothic, the cathedral introduced innovations within this style. Examples include the profiled cluster pillars that transition directly into the vault ribs, exceptionally wide arches, and the omission of the triforium in favor of a strip of tracery. The impressive western façade, featuring a tympanum depicting the Last Judgment, and the nearly 124-meter-high northern tower, the tallest church tower in the Netherlands since 1794, testify to the flamboyant Gothic style and special attention to detail.
A planned expansion in 1521, intended to give the cathedral a larger choir and main nave, was never completed due to a fire in 1533 and the rise of Protestantism, which reduced the Church’s income. The ground plan of this never-realized expansion is still recognizable in the current street layout. This illustrates the long-lasting impact of the cathedral on the city of Antwerp, both in architecture and in the urban fabric.
LUX Travel Tips
- Book your history self-guided tour – with virtual audio app – 7,50 p.p.
- Book your private tour guide – Private 3-Hour Historical Sightseeing Walking Tour
- Thirsty after your tour? Get yourself a Belgium beer at Elfde Gebod, the oldest restaurant in town!
- If you like to meet other travellers, pop in at the ViaVia café for a meal from the international cuisine.
