Salerno Cathedral

Start at the foot of the steps, before you go through the gate. Notice how the noise of the old town fades behind you. Ahead, a wide stone stairway rises toward an arched doorway, and the air already feels cooler. This is the Cathedral of Saint Matthew, the spiritual centre of Salerno for more than nine hundred years. Take a slow breath here. Then climb, and let the street fall away.

The doorway at the top is often called the Lion Gate. Look at each side and you will find a carved lion, worn smooth by centuries of hands and weather. One lion is often described as calmer and the other as fiercer, a pair of guardians at the threshold. Above you, the stone frame carries Latin inscriptions from the Norman founders. You have not entered the church yet. This gate opens onto something rarer... a courtyard.

Step through, and the space opens into a wide square atrium. Arcades line all four sides, and the arches rest on slender columns. Many of these columns are older than the cathedral itself. Builders took them from ancient Roman sites in the region, a common practice in medieval Italy. Tradition links some of them to Paestum, the Greek and Roman city south of Salerno. The arches above alternate light and dark stone, and they show a clear Islamic influence. That mix is your first clue to who built this place.

The builders were Normans. These warriors came from northern France and took much of southern Italy in the eleventh century. Their leader here was Robert Guiscard, a soldier whose nickname means something like the cunning one. He captured Salerno in the 1070s and made it his capital. Soon after, he began this cathedral. Pope Gregory the Seventh consecrated it in the 1080s. Southern Italy at that time was a crossroads of Latin, Greek and Arab cultures, and Norman builders borrowed freely from all three.

Now walk slowly around the arcades and look down at the long stone boxes along the walls. These are ancient Roman sarcophagi, coffins carved with myths, hunting scenes and garlands. Many were reused in the Middle Ages for the burials of local nobles and clergy. So a pagan coffin might hold a Christian bishop. This is the first surprise most visitors walk straight past. The courtyard works almost like an open-air museum of recycled stone.

Look up to the right. The bell tower rises from one corner of the atrium, built in the twelfth century. Its lower levels are square and plain. Near the top, the design changes. Small interlaced arches circle a rounded upper section, a style that historians often call Arab-Norman. On a clear day the tower stands against a deep blue sky, and you may hear the bells echo across the rooftops toward the sea.

Before you go inside, stop at the main doors of the church. These doors are bronze, and they were made in Constantinople in the eleventh century. Constantinople was the capital of the Byzantine Empire, today called Istanbul. The doors are divided into panels with figures of saints and crosses. Some details were once inlaid with silver, and you can still see thin lines where that work remains. Doors like these travelled by sea as luxury objects. Few of them survive anywhere in Italy.

Inside, the mood changes completely. You may expect a dark medieval hall, but the nave is bright and largely Baroque. Baroque is the ornate style of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, full of white stucco, gold and curves. A strong earthquake struck the region in 1688, and the interior was rebuilt in this later style. So the outside belongs to the Normans, while much of the inside belongs to a far later age. Keep your eyes open for places where the two meet.

The best of those places stand near the front of the nave. Look for two raised pulpits, called ambos, from the twelfth century. They rest on columns and are covered in mosaic made of small pieces of coloured stone and glass. Patterns of red, green, gold and white wind around their sides. The larger one carries carved figures and animals. Next to it rises a tall candlestick for the Easter candle, decorated in the same way. Up close, the craftsmanship is extraordinary.

Now find the right-hand side of the church near the altar. Here lies the tomb of Pope Gregory the Seventh, the same pope who consecrated the building. He died in exile in Salerno in 1085, after a long conflict with the Holy Roman Emperor over who held power in the Church. His last words are traditionally given as a famous line about loving justice and hating wickedness, and therefore dying in exile. It is a strong thing to read beside the stone where he rests.

Then go down the stairs to the crypt. This is the heart of the cathedral. Here, according to long tradition, lie the remains of Saint Matthew, the apostle and evangelist, brought to Salerno in the tenth century. The crypt walls and ceiling are covered with paintings from the early seventeenth century, rich with colour and gold. Above the tomb stands a bronze figure of the saint with two faces, one turned each way. It lets the faithful see him from both sides of the altar.

Local devotion to Saint Matthew is still strong. Believers say a liquid they call manna gathers at the tomb, and they treat it as a sign of grace. Every year on the twenty-first of September, Salerno celebrates its patron saint with a procession. Statues are carried through the streets, and crowds fill the old town. If you are here in late September, you will see the cathedral at its most alive. On an ordinary day, the crypt is quiet, and the candles flicker softly.

When you climb back up, return to the atrium for a moment before you leave. Stand in the middle of the courtyard. Look at the columns from ancient temples, the arches with their Arab shapes, the Byzantine bronze doors and the Norman tower. Each piece came from a different world, and here they stand together in one place. Listen for footsteps on the stone, the murmur of voices, perhaps a bell. Then walk down the steps, back into the lanes of Salerno, toward the sea.