The Island and Abbey of Saint Florian

The Island and Abbey of Saint Florian

The journey to the island of Saint Florian is one not to be missed by the experienced traveler. The sights and sounds afforded by the tiny city on the sea are truly one-of-a-kind, overabundant in native and natural quality. The following description of the island and abbey of Saint Florian is intended for use by the seasoned traveler who is interested in those attractions or diversions that might be considered ‘out of the way’ or ‘hidden treasures’. This guide will help to encompass the broad view of the island, covering every detail for the curious and adventurous traveler.

Geography and Topography

At 55° north and 1° west, off the edge of the United Kingdom, in the waters of the North Sea rests the tidal island of Saint Florian. It maintains an average circumference of 3,500 ft at high tide and, topographically speaking, consists mostly of flatlands with a slight, hilly rise towards the east end of the land. The island, being a tidal island, is connected to the mainland by a natural causeway that is entirely submerged during high tide and exposed during the low. Due to its particular location, in relation to the surrounding bodies of water (most notably the English Channel, the Baltic Sea, and the Atlantic Ocean), the island is subject to a peculiar prolonged tidal phenomenon. Pressure exerted from the respective seas’ natural flow creates an unusual perpetual reservoir in which the sea level surrounding the island appears to remain at its ‘high tide’ for extended periods of time, usually for several months. This phenomenon led to the classification of the island as tidal to remain hidden for nearly a century after its discovery.

Early History and Construction

The name of Saint Florian was bestowed upon the island by its first colonizer, Thomas Isle, in honor of both the patron saint and the future abbey to be built and dedicated on the island under the same name. In 1114 Thomas Isle, self-appointed Benedictine monk, commissioned the building of an abbey on the island in the same design as his Benedictine brothers in France. The structure was originally meant to glorify the tenets of the Benedictine order, simply a plain and austere lifestyle, by its visual example. However, as Thomas Isle was never made a true Benedictine monk, his sensibilities were surpassed by his desire for the ornate. The design of the abbey ultimately culminated in the construction of a castle-esque structure in the style of the French gothic architecture that became popular in 1140, just ten years before the completion of the abbey of Saint Florian in 1150. The abbey itself was built in the middle of the island and was surrounded on all sides by smaller buildings meant to house workers who would provide the monks with the services enjoyed on the mainland, including bakers, tailors, and blacksmiths. The wall surrounding the abbey was added in the early 1300s to defend the inhabitants against any siege on the island by Scottish invaders. A small portion on the eastern side of the island was left outside the protection of wall so that it could continue to be a resource as farmland.

Colony and Sovereignty

The picturesque and luxurious island initially attracted several monks from the true faith and many more willing to serve the order in exchange for housing. However, through the attraction, the population of the island began to slowly exceed the capacity, forcing the monks to draw up strict standards for admittance to the abbey and the island community. The construction of these standards in the early 1600s drove a wedge between the brothers, each with their respective indulgences influencing their criterion for entry. The guideline was eventually tabled as internal tensions grew. At the same time the Bubonic Plague reached the island of Saint Florian plunging the small city into chaos. The Benedictine Order disbanded and fled the island with the remainder of the inhabitants. In an unfortunate turn of events the ships carrying the small populace were refused access to the mainland and, in attempt to sail to the French coast, were caught in a storm and sank in the English Channel. The island of Saint Florian remained uninhabited for nearly a century, many in the area considering the island to be cursed. Not until the latter part of the 17th century was the island re-colonized by its second religious order, the Church of England. These were dissenters from the Anglicism reformation, determined to preserve their tradition, and even then in secret if necessary. The city was populated under the guise of a fishing community and was so well disguised from its clandestine religious intent that in 1706, when the modern day borders of Scotland and England were drawn, the island was never claimed by either of its continental shadows. Content to remain unseen, the island of Saint Florian remains to this day unclaimed by either Scotland or England. Their technical status is bound in lengthy red tape in the United Kingdom ministries, having been attached the final disclaimer of “Sovereign Dependency”.

Modern Day

From the initial oversight to current affairs little has changed for the luminescent island of Saint Florian. Their population, while shifting slightly in the Great War, has remained stable, never passing above thirty-five or below seventeen residents on the island at any one time. The Church of England maintains the popular focus of the community, basing themselves in the colossal Benedictine abbey. However, the community has grown from the original devotees to the church, encompassing a variety of peoples from several walks of life.

Introduction

This book is not about the Island of Saint Florian. While it may appear to be, it is not. It is also not a book about the people living on the Island of Saint Florian. Their appearances in this book are both central and remarkable, but they are, on the last page, just characters. This book is not about them.

This book or, rather, this collection of short to medium stories with intermittent observant interruptions was written by Ezra Caudill. This book is not about him. Ezra Caudill was born in Cincinnati, Ohio in 1899, the last year of the 19th century. Tradition reckons that this was the second to last year of the century, but tradition also binds us to tacking socks to our banisters on December 25th in the hopes that a very old, quite hefty, but surprisingly agile saint will slide down our chimneys and bring us presents based upon our inherent goodness. This book is not about very old saints.

Ezra Caudill enjoyed a very peaceful life in Cincinnati, Ohio until his 18th year of life when he joined the American forces in their pledge to defend Britain, France, and any other countries tied to them in the spider web of alliances that was World War I. This book is not about WWI. Ezra anticipated a highly active role in the fighting, but, due to his less than average size and stature, he was ultimately tasked to be a lawn mower for British officers living in Wimbledon. It was during this time that he was introduced to British officer Peter Moore, whose lawn Ezra was ordered to mow one to two times a week or as needed. This book is not about Peter Moore.

Peter Moore came from a long line of Moores, all of whom had gone into the business of travel guide journalism under the banner of Karl Baedeker, the founding father of travel guide literature for the world. While their initial introduction was less than stupendous, over time Ezra Caudill and Peter Moore became close friends and at the close of the war Moore offered Caudill a position in the Baedeker Company as a travel guide journalist. This book is not about the Baedeker Company.

Ezra Caudill took the offer and in 1918 was sent to the island of Saint Florian for his first travel journalism assignment. While there Ezra Caudill compiled an extensive amount of information on the island for future travelers to the area. The description of the island in the 16th edition of the travel guide had been very brief, consisting only of the population at the time, twenty-three, and a one-line observation, ‘Don’t get stuck’. In the forthcoming 17th edition Ezra resolved to widen the description of what he saw to be an understudied and underappreciated part of the country. This book is not about resolutions, but that is a much closer assessment.

While writing his official description for the Island of Saint Florian Ezra Caudill also took to writing short to medium stories about the residents he encountered there. This book is not about short to medium stories. At the completion of his observation Ezra Caudill submitted his report with his collection of completed stories to the Baedeker Publishing House for review. He also included his resignation. This book is not about resignations.

The letter went as follows:

Dear Sirs,

I have completed my report and have come to one stunning and urgent conclusion. I must discontinue my work as a travel journalist immediately. While I appreciate your kindness in hiring me, even with my incredible lack of credentials, I must embark upon a different venture entirely. My reasons for leaving are multi-faceted, but can be readily discerned from every word in the report accompanying this letter. I wish you well in your future endeavors and encourage you to visit the island of St. Florian, if only for the sunshine. Thank you for your time.

Sincerely,






Ezra Caudill

This book is not about credentials. Or reports. It is about sunshine.