The Legendary History of the Cross: A Series of Sixty-four Woodcuts from a Dutch Book Published by Veldener, A.D. 1483

In Short

This volume serves as both a historical record and a visual testament to a medieval legend that once captivated the European imagination. It collects sixty-four woodcuts originally printed in 1483, detailing the life cycle of the wood used for the Cross of Christ. From its mythic origins in Paradise to its recovery in Jerusalem, the narrative weaves together biblical figures, imperial crusades, and pious folklore. It remains a significant artifact, documenting not only a classic religious tale but also the vanishing history of medieval wall paintings in England.

The Story

The legend begins at the gates of Paradise, where a dying Adam sends his son, Seth, to plead for the oil of mercy. Though the Archangel Michael denies the oil, he provides three seeds from the Tree of Life. Upon his return, Seth discovers his father has already passed, so he places these seeds under Adam's tongue before burial. From Adam’s grave, the seeds sprout into a tree that endures for generations, eventually standing during the reign of King Solomon. Recognizing its beauty, Solomon orders it hewn down for use in his temple, but the wood proves temperamental—always the wrong size for any intended purpose. Consequently, it is cast aside and functions for a time as a simple foot-bridge.

The Queen of Sheba, visiting Solomon, senses the latent holiness of the discarded plank. Refusing to step on it, she wades through the brook and prophesies that the tree will one day serve as the instrument of the Savior’s death. The wood is later buried deep in the ground, only to be unearthed when the Jews prepare a pool for sacrificial animals. The pool gains miraculous healing powers, but when the time of the Passion approaches, the timber surfaces. It is then fashioned into the Cross.

After the Crucifixion, the Cross is buried to prevent its veneration by the faithful, remaining hidden for two centuries. In the fourth century, Empress Helena—mother of Constantine—travels to Jerusalem to locate the relic. When the local populace remains silent, she threatens them with death and eventually forces a man named Judas to reveal the site. He is cast into a dry well for seven days until he capitulates and leads her to the spot. Upon digging, they discover three crosses. To identify the true one, Helena touches them to the body of a dead maiden; when the third cross restores the girl to life, the relic is confirmed.

The Cross is subsequently divided, with portions kept in Jerusalem and Constantinople. Centuries later, the Emperor Heraclius recovers the relic after a brutal war against the Persian King Chosroes. Upon attempting to enter Jerusalem with the Cross, Heraclius is barred by stones that miraculously seal the gate. An angel appears, reminding the Emperor that Christ entered that same gate humbly on an ass, not as a conquering monarch. The Emperor strips off his imperial robes, walks barefoot in humility, and the gates yield. The legend concludes by emphasizing the Cross’s enduring power, noting that the mere sign of it can repel demons, heal the sick, and protect the devout from the temptations of the wicked.

How It Unfolds

The seeds of mercy Seth travels to the gates of Paradise to seek relief for his dying father, receiving three seeds that become the foundation of the sacred tree. These seeds are planted upon Adam's grave and grow into a tree that persists through biblical history.

The discarded timber Solomon attempts to use the wood in his temple, but it refuses to fit, leading to its exile as a bridge. Queen of Sheba recognizes its destiny, and it is later buried, only to reappear as a miraculous font before the Passion.

The discovery of the relic Empress Helena arrives in Jerusalem to find the Cross, using harsh measures to extract the truth from those hiding its location. After locating three crosses, she employs a resurrection miracle to distinguish the true Cross from those of the thieves.

The imperial return Heraclius defeats the Persians to reclaim the relic and returns it to Jerusalem in triumph. His pride is checked by a divine sign, forcing him to embrace humility before the city gates allow him entry.

The People

Adam serves as the starting point of the narrative, a figure of mortality whose desire for mercy initiates the movement of the sacred seeds. His death links the terrestrial world to the divine, as the tree grows from his grave to bridge the gap between ancient history and the Christian era.

Seth acts as the obedient son and messenger, the conduit through whom the seeds of the Tree of Life are brought into the world of men. He follows the angel’s instructions, ensuring the cycle of the wood begins in shadow and ends in light.

Solomon appears as a worldly king, attempting to master the wood through architectural design, yet finding it beyond his control. His failure to utilize the wood highlights its inherent divine nature, which resists human utility until the moment of the Passion.

The Queen of Sheba functions as the intuitive observer, the one who recognizes the true worth of the discarded wood when even the wisest of kings cannot. Her prophecy dictates the future of the object, setting the stage for the narrative’s climax.

Empress Helena is the figure of iron-willed devotion. Driven by her faith, she is relentless in her pursuit of the relic, willing to use coercion and threats to uncover the past. She serves as the bridge between the Roman Empire and the sanctity of the Cross.

Judas represents the reluctant custodian of memory. His resistance and eventual transformation under duress serve to emphasize the difficulty of uncovering truths that have been long buried or suppressed.

In Its Own Voice

The legend describes the moment the empress discovers the location of the relic after punishing the man who withheld the truth.

Thenne she shewed to hym his life & dethe & bade hym cheſe whyche he wold. Shewe to me sayd she the place named golgota where our lord was crucefyed / by cauſe and to the end that we may fynde the croſſe/.

The narrative reflects on the power of the sign of the cross to intervene in the physical world and ward off malevolent forces.

Thenne the clerke anone bleſſyd hym wyth the ſygne of the croſſe / and ſayd that he was the ſervaunte of Iheſu criſte / his ſavyour / And anone as he had made the croſſe / that grete multitude of devylles vanyſſhed aweye.

What It's Really About

At its heart, the book explores the concept of the "relic" as a bridge between the physical and spiritual realms. It asks how an object—specifically a piece of wood—accumulates sacred significance through history. The narrative suggests that objects are not static; they gain virtue through their associations with suffering, sacrifice, and imperial power. The central tension lies in the struggle between human attempts to utilize or control these holy objects and the divine will that directs them toward their ultimate purpose. By tracing the wood from a seed to a tool of execution, the text argues that divine influence works through the material world, transforming the mundane into the miraculous.

Why Read It Today

This book is a quiet, scholarly treasure for those who enjoy the intersection of folklore, art history, and theology. It offers a rare window into the medieval mind, where the line between historical fact and spiritual metaphor was porous and vibrant. Readers who appreciate the meticulous reproduction of fifteenth-century woodcuts will find the visual component as compelling as the text; the engravings possess a stark, primitive beauty that captures the essence of the period’s faith.

It is important to approach the text with an understanding of its age. The language, even in translation, retains the rhythms of earlier centuries, and the narrative style is episodic, prioritizing symbolic truth over linear realism. The book does not shy away from the harshness of the period’s attitudes, particularly in its depictions of the treatment of those who disagreed with the church, which may feel jarring to a modern reader. However, the warmth and precision of the editorial commentary provide a steady hand, guiding you through the complexities of the legend and the tragic story of the lost frescoes at Stratford-upon-Avon. You will likely walk away with a deeper appreciation for how stories were physically manifested in the stone and wood of medieval churches, and how they continue to linger in the cultural imagination long after the buildings themselves have been altered.