England’s mythic landscape is shaped by two great centers: the City of London, often likened to “Babylon” for its wealth and power, and Glastonbury, the legendary “Avalon” and heart of spiritual tradition. Between them lies the dream of Jerusalem—not a place, but a unifying principle, a corpus callosum bridging the nation’s divided mind: the temporal authority of London and the spiritual wisdom of Glastonbury.
Waters of Life: Rivers, Wells, and Springs
Both London and Glastonbury are lands defined by their waters. London’s Fleet River, once called the “Mother of Springs,” supplied countless wells, including the famous Bride’s Well beneath St. Bride’s Church. These springs were central to the city’s sacred geography and daily life. In Glastonbury, the Chalice Well and White Spring have long been revered for their healing properties and mystical associations, drawing pilgrims for centuries. These waters, now mostly hidden or diminished, once symbolized the unity of the sacred and the practical, nourishing both body and soul.
Dunstan: England’s Alchemist and Bridge-Builder
No figure better embodies the bridge between Babylon and Avalon than Dunstan. Raised and educated by the monks of Glastonbury, Dunstan became abbot there, mastering not only spiritual discipline but also the practical arts—he was renowned as a metalworker and blacksmith. This craft links him directly to Bride (Brigid), the Celtic goddess of healing, poetry, and smithcraft, who is also revered as a goddess of alchemy and transformation345891011. Like Bride, Dunstan was an agent of change, uniting disparate elements—spirit and matter, tradition and innovation.
Dunstan’s influence extended to London, where he served as Bishop and later as Archbishop of Canterbury. He was celebrated for his wisdom and integrity, and legends tell of him keeping the devil at bay in his forge—a symbol of his ability to hold corruption and chaos in check. For a time, Dunstan’s leadership seemed to offer England its Jerusalem: a balance between the temporal power of London and the spiritual depth of Glastonbury.
His enduring legacy is marked in London by two churches—St. Dunstan-in-the-East and St. Dunstan-in-the-West—which frame the City of London between them, a living metaphor for his role as a bridge between England’s two great poles.
Glastonbury Abbey: Rival to Westminster
By the 14th and 15th centuries, Glastonbury Abbey was second only to Westminster Abbey in wealth, influence, and mythic stature16. Its precincts were the stage for legends of Joseph of Arimathea and King Arthur, and its Lady Chapel was said to stand on the oldest Christian site in Britain. The Abbey’s vast estates, innovative water management, and royal burials made it a powerhouse of both spiritual and temporal authority. Its dissolution in 1539, under Henry VIII, marked not just the end of an era but the rupture of England’s spiritual corpus callosum, severing the link between the sacred and the worldly.
Winchester: The Lost Centre
Before London’s dominance, Winchester stood as England’s capital—a city physically and symbolically at the nation’s centre, almost equidistant between Glastonbury and London27. Winchester’s centrality made it a natural corpus callosum, connecting the political and spiritual currents of the land. With the Norman conquest, however—a repeat of history by conquerors whose very name is an anagram of “Romans”—power was decisively shifted to London, prioritizing profit and administration over the prophetic and unifying role Winchester once played.
Transformation and Decline: Bride, Giants, and the Loss of Balance
As Glastonbury Abbey fell to ruin, London’s Bridewell—once a site of healing waters near St. Bride’s Church—was transformed into a prison. This mirrored a broader shift in England: the loss of spiritual authority and the rise of temporal power. In Avalon, Gog and Magog are remembered as ancient oaks, sacred to the druids and deeply rooted in the landscape’s mystical history. In London, they are personified as giants—captured and displayed, their wildness tamed by Brutus and later by the Romans, symbols of the city’s drive to control and subdue the forces of legend and nature.
Bride, the goddess of healing, poetry, and alchemy, has a diminished presence in London today, her force overshadowed by industry and commerce. The dreams of William Blake’s “Jerusalem”—of a land where nature and spirit are honored—remain unfulfilled in the City. In Glastonbury, however, Bride’s legacy endures in the springs, rituals, and the ongoing embrace of unity through diversity.
Conclusion: The Unbuilt Jerusalem
For a brief time, through figures like Dunstan and the centrality of Winchester, England seemed poised to realize its own Jerusalem—a true meeting of power and spirit. But with the rise of London and the ruin of Glastonbury, the balance tipped. Today, the City of London stands as a monument to profit, while Glastonbury remains a sanctuary for those seeking wisdom and unity. The rivers and wells still flow beneath the surface, reminders of a deeper connection that, though often forgotten, continues to inspire the hope that England might yet build its Jerusalem in the green and pleasant land.
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