The ruthless knight Galgano Guidotti was done fighting. The son of a noble lord during the time of the Crusades, in his early 30s he experienced a vision of Saint Michael that changed his life. Galgano was called upon to renounce worldly trappings and submit himself to God, so he relinquished station and arms to become a hermit, living on a hill.
The year was 1180 when Galgano retired to a hermitage in Tuscany. In an act that sealed his devotion—in stone quite literally—he impaled his sword, an implement of war, into the ground where it supposedly became lodged; his act signaled peace. The sword handle and crossguard formed the Christian sign and remained beset in stone ever since.
Conceivably, it could have originated in Italy and been brought to England by those who visited or heard of the chapel where the sword was kept. Yet, like many legends, this one is hard to verify with numerous conflicting accounts.
After Galgano’s death, the pope had the Montesiepi Chapel rotunda built on the hill where said legend supposedly unfolded. Near the saint’s hometown of Chiusdino in Siena, Italy, it was to be his tomb and memorial. Encased in stone, the sword was kept within its round walls and decreed a holy relic by the Catholic church. Those were times of constant pilgrimage, and many travelers flocked to see this miraculous sword in the stone.
“There was great meaning to the disposed sword,” parish priest at Montesiepi Chapel Don Vito Albergo told the BBC, speaking in Italian. “It means peace. While the raising of a sword means the start of war.”
According to Albergo, Galgano didn’t actually stick his sword in stone where it is today, but rather in the ground on the hill; and it was later moved inside the chapel for safekeeping.
The English legend of The Sword in the Stone held that whoever pulled it from its lithic resting place was none other than the divinely appointed king—the true heir of Uther Pendragon. Perhaps this is why many would-be thieves attempted to remove Saint Galgano’s sword from its place over the centuries—it may have possessed the allure of grandeur.
“The problem is that people insist on misunderstanding the meaning of the sword, this idea that if you raise the sword you would own the world,“ Albergo said. “Until about 50, 60 years ago, the sword could be taken out and put back in. There was nothing like King Arthur pulling the sword out with strength.”
While Galgano was still alive, the chapel displayed a warning which took the form of a pair of severed hands. The story goes, a thief who tried to steal the sword was attacked by a wolf that claimed his hands, preventing him from escaping with it. Though unverifiable, the tale is intriguing, as the hands are still displayed there today.
Another account speaks of one would-be burglar who was similarly struck by lightning; it’s safe to say the sword remained in its rightful place.
In modern times, during his 46-year tenure, Albergo himself witnessed two attempted nabbings of the medieval weapon. In the 1960s, molten lead was poured into the crack, sealing it to prevent further burglary attempts. Today it is also kept behind a clear plastic display case for extra security.
Despite its allure, the sword’s authenticity remained dubious. In 2001 researchers attempted to determine its origins through scientific analysis. Although the metal itself would not reveal its age, chemist Luigi Garlaschelli established through chemical and microscopic examination that the “composition of the metal and the style are compatible with the era of the legend.”
Alarmingly, during his inspection, the handle, crossguard, and part of the blade together broke off as he tried to chip away some of the surrounding concrete. Garlaschelli would later make a perfect replica of the handle segment before it was repositioned and fixed back to its original place. He is certain the rest of the sword remains embedded in the rock.
