No-one who has been into St Faith’s can
fail to have noticed the lovely statue of the Madonna and
Child which stands in the Lady Chapel, and which we know
as the Rabbit Madonna as there are two bunnies depicted,
one at each of Mary's feet. Almost equally certainly, few
will be unaware that the endearing figure of the infant
Jesus has one toe short on his right foot. Why this should
be so has always been a puzzle, but recent events have
provided a possible explanation, as well as shedding more
light on the provenance of the statue and of its sculptor,
Mother Maribel of Wantage.
The unravelling begins with a recent visit by this writer
to Rufford Old Hall, a fine National Trust property in
Lancashire. Our visit coincided with an entertaining talk
by a lady guide in the Great Hall. She focused in depth on
the unique ‘movable’ screen: a massive structure carved
from black oak and designed to hide the sight of scurrying
servants from the great and the good feasting in the hall.
This was familiar from a previous visit – until she
mentioned that there were three deliberate flaws in the
intricate carving: two on the front and one at the rear.
The front two were decorative panels carved the wrong way
up; the third, which she challenged those present to find,
turned out to be on the figure of an angel high up on the
rear of the massive structure. Peering into the gloom, it
was possible to see that the figure had an extra finger on
one hand. Both oddities may clearly be seen on the
photographs above.
What struck a chord was the guide’s confident statement
that the aberrations were deliberate imperfections,
incorporated by pious craftsmen to demonstrate their
belief that only God could create perfection. The
inference was that this was a common practice.
It was some time later that I began to wonder whether the
missing toe on our statue might be another example of this
practice. So began a piece of research which, at the time
of writing, has provided some answers but has also
provided further mysteries.
Apart from the digital deficit issue, we had long hoped to
find out more about the ‘Rabbit Madonna’: clearly the time
had come to dig deeper. I found the contact details for
the Community of St Mary the Virgin, an order of Anglican
nuns in Wantage, Berkshire. We had known that this
was the home of Mother Maribel, since ‘C.S.M.V.‘ is
inscribed on the base of the statue plinth. I fired off an
email, asking if they could fill in any details about the
piece in general and the toe shortage in particular. It
was not long before a reply came. The sister who wrote
hadn’t heard of the statue, but hoped it might be listed
in their inventory of Maribel’s works. She asked for
photos and dimensions and ended with this entertaining
paragraph.
‘It is quite probable that the “sick cow” story is true
as M. Maribel had a wicked sense of humour; her studio
was in the farm buildings and had been a cowshed.’
The reference is to words from our church website, which I
had quoted in my mailing. It states that, in order to
discourage visitors, Mother Maribel had posted a notice
saying ‘sick cow’ on her studio door! This
revelation from the nuns naturally spurred me on in
pursuit of more information. I sent photos and dimensions
and soon received further enlightenment. Sister Jean
Frances wrote that although she wasn’t supposed to be
involved in the investigation, she was intrigued! She had
now found mention in an inventory of two statues, 3’ tall,
entitled ‘Seated Madonna and Child with rabbits, made in
1925, cast in plaster: Winchester and Portsmouth’.
She wondered if we knew when and how the statue came into
our possession. The fact is that we have yet to find this
out. I had thought for some reason that it might have been
in the 1950s, but there seems to be no record in
registers, magazines or church histories. Were the statues
made for churches in Winchester and Portsmouth? Here
again, not even Google has yielded anything of use to me
or to co-sleuth John Woodley, so that the story of the
statues (and obviously ‘ours’ is one of the pair) is
unfinished, not least concerning the Madonna’s
journeying between 1925 and when she arrived in our Lady
Chapel. Investigations are ongoing and Wantage has
promised further help.
The other intriguing matter is that of the ‘deliberate
imperfection’ theory. In pursuit of further enlightenment,
I surfed the web, and found plenty of references to the
concept. It is seemingly a Muslim practice, notably but
not exclusively in the weaving of Persian rugs, and seems
also to be a feature of American Amish art. But I cannot
find any reference to it whatsoever in connection with
mainstream Christian art, other than a Wikipedia reference
to the Rufford imperfections.
Undeterred, I emailed Rufford to see if they could fill the
gap, and am promised an answer.
Finally, a further thought entered my consciousness a few
days ago. An equally fine furnishing of our church is of
course the splendid Salviati reredos above the High Altar.
Curiously, this also has its imperfections. The folding
‘wings’ of the reredos feature angels looking inwards
towards the centre – but two of them, one on each side,
are facing outwards. It has been assumed that when the
reredos was restored and repainted, these two figures were
accidentally transposed. But the similarity to the Rufford
panel carvings is nevertheless striking. The jury are out
over the panels - but there’s more. The side folding wings
are decorated with a series of what are clearly
hand-painted ‘ihs’ monograms (the first three
letters of the Greek name for Jesus, although often taken
to mean Iesu Hominum Salvator – Jesus saviour of mankind).
One of them, on the right hand wing, lacks the ‘i’
in the lettering. A careless apprentice of Salviati, which
escaped quality control – or another deliberate
imperfection?
As one question is answered, others seem to emerge. The
quest continues, and subsequent findings will of course be
published. Meanwhile, if any of ye can shed further light
on these matters, ye are to declare it...