by Agata Konczal

The southern part of Transylvania is famous for its fortified churches, whose walls have many stories to tell, both dramatic and romantic. Those churches served as places not only of worship but also of refuge, and were erected by settlers from modern day Germany, France, Belgium, and Luxembourg. Later to be known as Transylvanian Saxons, they came to Southern Transylvania on the invitation of the Hungarian King Géza II at the beginning of the 12th century to develop the area economically and protect it against eastern invaders. By the time of the last Ottoman attack in 1788, Transylvania was home to more than 300 churches with defensive structures.

The Transylvanian Saxons were skilled craftspeople, industrious farmers and traders. They were pious Lutherans as well. Religion governed most aspects of their life, and the churches were the focal points of their communities. The traditional architecture of Saxon villages in Transylvania is considered unique on a European scale. Therefore, it should come as no surprise that the Saxons themselves were also quite exceptional as a society, as best exemplified by how they solved marital problems.

Marry a Saxon, they said

Of all the Transylvanian fortified churches preserved to this day, Biertan is perhaps the most impressive. A picturesque 16th-century church ensemble, with nine surrounding defensive towers and three mighty ring walls, watches over the village from a hill to this day. Wandering between its walls, one might encounter a small, unremarkable building. It is the eastern bastion which, when no longer needed for defence, was transformed into a prison for unhappy couples.

The so-called ‘martial prison’ was established by the local priest. In the days of relative peace, especially in the 17th and 18th centuries, Saxon community leaders had to fight another enemy: a moral decline. At that time, the divorce rate was exceedingly high. Therefore, they sought tools to maintain Christian morals and values in society. Spouses were encouraged to save their marriage at all costs. Hence, if a couple wished to divorce, they were sent to ‘prison’. Locked inside a room only slightly larger than a pantry, they had to share everything, from a single chair to just one spoon, until they pledged to get along with each other.

Moreover, due to divorces occurring after just a few weeks of the wedding, another rule was implemented. In the event of divorce, a man had to pay his ex-wife half of his earnings. However, if he remarried and divorced again, the second wife was entitled to nothing. And yet, it was not the only measure taken to strengthen the institution of marriage in the eyes of the community and discourage people from promiscuity. For instance, if a ‘premarital incident’ happened between the fiancés, the prospective wedding ceremony was to be conducted in a particularly degrading manner. No clear records remain of how such a ceremony was actually carried out. It is possible that some of the traditions mentioned are just legends. Even so, the steps taken by the Transylvanian Saxons seem to have been pretty effective: only one divorce was recorded in Biertan in over 300 years.

Although these forms of ‘marriage counselling’ are no longer practised, the Biertan prison is still working, now serving as a small museum and tourist attraction. Biertan is the only place where the existence of such a facility has been confirmed. Between the 16th and 19th century, the village had the bishop’s seat. A couple seeking a divorce had to appear before the bishop, who would then decide if they should be imprisoned. However, some said that local parishes had their own cells for quarrelling couples. One of them was supposed to be located in the village of Apold.

To vow or not to vow?

Each year sees fewer and fewer marriages among the Transylvanian Saxons. The local pastor’s daughter’s wedding last year was the first one in a while to take place in the church of Apold. Although modest, the beautiful ceremony and the following wedding reception in the courtyard brightened up the August sky and brought life into the old church walls.

The decreasing number of church weddings these days is not caused by the decline of traditional values, though. Religious marriages are still celebrated in Transylvania. The reason is simple: the Saxon population is ageing. In recent decades, the once numerous community has nearly vanished from the region. The mass exodus, which began at the turn of the 1980s and continued throughout the 1990s, left most villages almost deserted. Those who remained are now elderly. Fortunately, some descendants of Saxon emigrants have returned to Transylvania to protect what their ancestors left behind.

The fortified church in Apold may be of a different style than the one in Biertan, yet it still is one of the largest building complexes of its kind in Southern Transylvania. Visible from a great distance, the church catches the attention of passing tourists and draws them inside. This ensemble was chosen as the wedding venue by the pastor’s family because, unlike other fortified churches in the area, it has been beautifully renovated and restored to its original style.

Not all the Saxon churches were as fortunate. Once they lost their defensive purpose, many of them began to fall into disrepair or were disassembled, and now only half of the original number remain. The Apold church owes its current appearance to the founders of the CasApold Association. Dedicated to the preservation and revitalisation of the site, the association members breathed new life into the monument. Today, CasApold has its main office within the church complex, in the gatehouse. The same building where, it is believed, there was a martial prison on the ground floor.

Unlocking the potential

What little girl does not wish to become a princess? Although for most this fantasy stays within the realm of dreams, Ania has lived to become a lady of the castle. While many might envy her, few realise how much time, energy, and dedication it requires to upkeep such an estate.

The ‘castle’, as Ania refers to the church of Apold, was first discovered by her husband-to-be. In 2003, Sebastian Bethge found himself in Transylvania, bringing his long years of wandering across Europe to a close. As a carpenter and stonemason, he quickly became fascinated by the local architecture. At that time, many traditional Saxon buildings were left abandoned and neglected, and religious sites were underused and underfinanced. The Apold church required urgent intervention too, so when Sebastian approached the pastor of Apold offering his help in restoring the church ensemble, the clergyman gladly handed him the keys. Thus, Sebastian became the warden of the fortress. He rolled up his sleeves and got to work.

In the past, the role of the church guardian was an important one, usually filled by one of the locals. The symbolic handing over of the key made Sebastian the heir to a centuries-old tradition. However, if he was to work at the church, it was appropriate to settle nearby. Sebastian bought a house on the outskirts of the village, partly in ruins, but with a beautiful view of the church hill. As it later turned out, it used to belong to the last keyholder in Apold.

Two years later, Sebastian was joined by Ania. The German-Polish couple met when Ania came to Romania for ethnography workshops. At first, they were brought together by a shared passion for the cultural heritage of Transylvania, but soon grew fond of each other. The first years at the ‘castle’ were not easy; they both worked hard to improve living conditions in the keyholder house, and the church renovation was still pending. To cope with all the work, the CasApold Association was founded, and, no longer as private individuals but as an institution, Sebastian and Ania applied for grants to renovate the church. Their dream was not only to restore the place but also to breathe new life into it, give it a new purpose.

Home is where the heart is

As in many other cases, the fortified church of Apold is located in the heart of the village, and in addition to religious and protective functions, the fortifications used to have a social dimension. The site is composed of ten defence, storage and village service buildings, surrounded by two ring walls. The CasApold members have found new uses for almost every single one of them. Since 2003, the buildings and castle gardens have been used for cultural activities, exhibitions, seminars and workshops. In one tower, there is now an exhibition on landscape protection. In another, a gallery of contemporary art. The church hall has been transformed into a museum, where one can learn about CasApold’s history and efforts to preserve the monument.

CasApold is a nonprofit organisation. For Ania and Sebastian that means they need to work for a living, and the association is something they do in their spare time. But even with limited resources, they were able to work wonders. Thanks to their involvement, it was possible to secure the fortified church complex as a whole. The decay was stopped, the existing structures were preserved and renovated, and several new installations were implemented. The association not only works towards the conservation and restoration of monuments but also provides promotional and educational initiatives in this field. Since 2008, CasApold has carried out several dozen traditional crafts courses, architecture summer schools and training programs. Their further vision is to make the church an open space for learning, working and creativity, hence to establish the Apold Heritage Center.

It is hard to believe that the association is just three people: Sebastian, Ania and Claudia (who joined in 2021). They have their ways to accomplish goals, though. CasApold collaborates closely with the Fortified Churches Foundation and other local organisations, and the restoration work is financed mostly by donations and external funds. However, without a lot of voluntary commitment and physical work, the revitalisation would not be possible. Although the church is now in good condition, it still needs minor repairs and general day-to-day maintenance, which demands a great deal of patience, persistence, care and… love.

We are all fools in love, aren’t we? Perhaps this explains why two people of different nationalities have decided to settle thousands of kilometres away from their hometowns and to undertake an incredibly challenging task. The couple got married in the church in Apold while it was still under renovation. Today, from their bedroom window, they can admire the church in all its splendour. Ania admits that being far from her family sometimes gets to her, but now, here in Romania, this is her home. Besides, when you have to manage the association, guide tourists around the castle, go to a full-time job and pick up the kids from school in between, there is not much free time left to think.

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