Matthew Arnold, the Victorian poet who was a Professor of Poetry at Oxford University, had a friend who met an untimely death. Arnold therefore wrote in his memory in 1865 a poem entitled Thyrsis, which referred to Oxford as “that sweet city with her dreaming spires”. These words have attached themselves to Oxford ever since and so they should. It is indeed a city pleasantly free of high rise buildings and the spires of ancient colleges and churches predominate.
Pat and I visited Oxford, home of the oldest university in the English speaking world, in August 2012. We inspected it from the upper deck of a bus, and what we saw was no surprise to us. For many years in America, public television has shown a popular detective series set in Oxford. Therefore much of the architecture of the city was familiar to us.
John Thaw as Morse
The TV series centered on a fictional cop called Detective Chief Inspector Morse, superbly played by actor John Thaw who died. An episode was written where Morse also died, but the series has continued. The scriptwriters simply promoted Lewis, Morse’s sergeant, to the rank of Detective Chief Inspector and we continue to watch the series to this day.
Inspector Lewis was a spinoff from Morse
Randolph Hotel
Morse bar in Randolph Hotel
Oxford’s top hotel is The Randolph, which now has an Inspector Morse bar. Even though Winston’s father and son were both named Randolph, the hotel is unconnected with the Churchill family who live just outside Oxford at Blenheim Palace, the ancestral home of the Dukes of Marlborough. Instead, the hotel is named in honor of Dr Francis Randolph who, upon his death in 1796, left the money to build the Randolph Gallery of the Ashmolean Museum which stands opposite the hotel.
Most universities consist of buildings grouped around an open campus. Oxford University is not at all like that. It is made up of dozens of colleges and halls, scattered on sites in narrow streets throughout the city. The University foundation date is uncertain. There was teaching in Oxford as long ago as 1096 and it was much increased by 1167. The Pope granted Oxford its charter in 1254. University College (where President Clinton was a Rhodes Scholar), Balliol College and Merton College were all founded in the mid 1200s. Some of the college buildings were therefore built at that time.
Oxford University
On the other hand, some colleges were founded in the 20th century and exist in modern buildings. The different ages of these buildings has led to stunning architectural contrasts. We saw many of the older colleges from the top deck of our bus.
Oxford Quadrangle
Martyrs Memorial
Execution of Thomas Cranmer
We were able to look through arched entrance-ways and see inner quadrangles or courtyards, which had perfect lawns. "How do they grow such green and beautiful grass?” asked one tourist. “They cut it, they roll it and they water it,” was the reply. “Then they do that for six hundred years.”
In 1209, some Oxford students became upset because two of their number were executed over some minor infringement, so they went off and founded Cambridge University.
We stopped at The Martyrs’ Memorial near the center of the city. It commemorates the burning at the stake in 1556 of three leaders of the Church of England, which had renounced Roman Catholicism. They were the Archbishop of Canterbury, Thomas Cranmer, together with Hugh Latimer and Nicholas Ridley. During her short reign (1553 to 1558), Henry VIII’s daughter Mary was attempting to reverse her father’s establishment of the protestant Church of England. At one stage, Cranmer was led to believe that he could escape death by embracing Catholicism and he signed a document doing exactly that. When he realized that they intended to burn him anyway, he made a final speech attacking the Roman Catholic Church and the Pope. He then placed into the flames the hand with which he had signed that document, so that it would burn first.
Magdalen Tower and bridge
Students jumping from bridge
We crossed the River Cherwell at Magdalen Bridge, at the end of which stands Magdalen Tower. Built in 1509, the tower adjoins Magdalen College. Large numbers of undergraduates celebrate May Day here. Some do so by jumping off the bridge into the river. In recent years, the depth of the water in the river has become much reduced and this has led some jumpers to hit the riverbed much sooner than they expected. Police have now banned jumping from the bridge on May Day.
Dragon punting cartoon
To travel on the river, one can hire a flat bottomed boat called a punt, which is propelled by using a long pole. Problems arise however, when the pole becomes stuck in the muddy riverbed but when the punt keeps moving. One then has to decide whether to let go of the pole and have no way of propelling the punt or to leave the punt while clinging to the pole and finishing up in the water. This is a hard decision, but less dangerous than jumping from a high bridge into shallow water.
Sir Roger Bannister 1954
Sir Roger Bannister 2012
Iffley is a village on the outskirts of Oxford and our bus took us along the Iffley Road, where history was made at the Iffley Road running track. It was there, in 1954, that a medical student called Bannister became the first man in the world to run a mile in under four minutes. Some commentators had regarded this feat as impossible and his great achievement was all the more astonishing because Bannister was not a professional athlete. Instead, he trained only when his time-consuming medical studies permitted. At the same time, full time athletes from all over the world were attempting and failing to be the first man to break the four minute barrier. The story gets even better. At age 83, Doctor Sir Roger Bannister carried the Olympic torch a short distance at the start of the 2012 Games in London. He eventually became Master of Pembroke College, Oxford, but it is a measure of the man that he today regards his forty years of work as a leading neurologist to be of far more consequence than any mere race.
Update - This story originally appeared on Sept 15, 2012 but is being updated to honor Sir Roger Bannister who died on March 4, 2018 at age 88.
I write on November 5th which, in England, is Guy Fawkes' Day. Most Americans know nothing of Guy but, 400 years ago, he was the Osama bin Laden of his day. In 1605, Guy and a group of fellow conspirators gathered a large quantity of gunpowder in the cellars under the Houses of Parliament in London, England. The plan was to blow the place up while Parliament was in session. Like Osama, Guy was a religious terrorist. However, Guy was a Roman Catholic, rather than a Moslem. Another important difference from New York City 2001 was the efficiency of the local security services, which uncovered the plot before the explosion, captured the conspirators and executed them.
Guy Fawkes
Guy did not make it to a hideaway on the Afghanistan/Pakistan border. Those charged with protecting Parliament were actually allowed to share information with each other, quite unlike the FBI and the CIA four centuries later. To celebrate the failure of this conspiracy, the English have on every November 5th since built bonfires, exploded fireworks and burned the wretched Guy Fawkes in effigy. This celebration takes place nationwide and, to this day, small boys eagerly await the arrival of Guy Fawkes' Day. By the way, this paragraph speaks of the English rather than the British, because England did not unite with Scotland to form Britain until 1707. Many years ago, I was responsible for a bonfire on Guy Fawkes' Day that burned particularly brightly. Here is how it happened.
The year was 1961. I had just accepted an assignment that required me to live in West Africa for two or three years. At the time, I was living with my parents in a little row house in the suburbs of London, about ten miles from where Guy had come unstuck in 1605. My first problem was the transportation from London to West Africa of my books, sports equipment, clothes and the like. How, for example, does a cricket bat fit into a suitcase? A buddy of mine told me to throw all my gear into a big crate and to call up a shipping line to handle the problem thereafter. Moreover, he would provide the crate. The packing department of his company would make it. What size did I want the crate to be? Foolishly, I asked him to have it made four foot square. A few days later, a fine wooden crate of exactly those dimensions was delivered to my parents' little house.
Shipping Crate
My next problem was that a four foot square crate cannot pass through a door. Much to the irritation of my parents, I therefore left the crate outside the front of the house, where it quickly filled up with rainwater until I learned to cover it with a tarpaulin. I dropped all my prized belongings out of the upper windows of the house and into the crate below. By this time the crate was too heavy to move, but that was not my problem. I simply nailed it shut and instructed The Elder Dempster Shipping Line to collect it and to deliver it to me in Lagos, Nigeria as soon as possible. I then headed for London's Heathrow Airport carrying just one suitcase. The threats of my parents, as to what they would do with the crate and its contents if it did not swiftly follow me to Africa, were ringing in my ears.
Elder Dempster Lines African destinations
But the crate did follow me to Africa. It was delivered to me in Lagos, Nigeria a few weeks later together with an enormous invoice for the cost of its shipping. I emptied the crate, but once again was forced to leave it outside my new home. Even houses in colonial Africa did not have doors over four feet wide. What was I to do with the crate? I expected my problem to be solved by the theft of the crate, but this did not happen. Not even the most clueless Nigerian thief wanted to explain to the police why my four feet crate was standing outside his home. To prevent the crate filling up with tropical rains, I always kept it covered with a tarpaulin. My tarpaulins were often stolen, but never the crate. By 1964, it was time for me to return to London. I had a lot to bring back with me. I had all kinds of West African memorabilia. There were shields, spears, carvings, books, sculptures, paintings, etc, etc. It was time for the crate to step up to the plate once again, so I filled it to the brim. To prevent the theft of these contents, I had to hire a day watchman and a night watchman. It was also necessary to fix the lid with a hundred screws in order to slow down any attempt to break into it. The crate was by now too heavy to move, which was another useful disincentive to theft. Once again The Elder Dempster Shipping Line was instructed to solve the problem, but I started my return journey to London never expecting to see that crate again. The locals were just starting the conflict, which came to be known as the Biafran war, in the course of which Lagos was bombed. Surely my crate would never survive?
I then returned to live with my parents in London again. They were pleased to see that I had no crate with me. I was vague when they enquired as to its fate. Yet, approaching the little house a few weeks later, I saw a large and familiar object standing outside. The crate had returned! I turned around and headed for the hardware store, not simply to buy tarpaulins but also to delay the inevitable confrontation with my parents. They soon made it very clear to me that, while I was welcome to stay, the crate must go. The answer to my problem was supplied by the Guy Fawkes' Day celebration that the neighborhood was about to hold.
Guy Fawkes bonfire
A large bonfire had already been built, but we placed the crate on top of the bonfire and we sat the effigy of Guy on the crate. What a bonfire it turned out to be, burning late into the night! The crate was 3 years old when it was cremated thus. It had lived a short but adventurous life. It knew what it was to be unloved and unwanted. Yet it had its final moment of glory.
This piece, written by Bob, was originally posted on our website on November 9, 2008.
If you spent World War Two in London, even just as a little boy like I was then, you will always be moved by one sound in particular. That sound is the chimes of Big Ben, the great clock on the end of the Houses of Parliament in London. The chimes were broadcast live at the start of the news bulletins on the radio throughout wartime. The sound was unique. It signaled hope and defiance. It suggested that, notwithstanding bombing and food shortages and bad news, it was all going to work out in the end. The sound of Big Ben meant stability and survival. It was so reassuring. The tune of the actual chimes is from a passage of Handel's Messiah. Pat and I made a rare visit to London in April 2009 and we visited Big Ben. Even though the events of which I speak above occurred over 65 years ago, the sound of the chimes still moves me. Like some of my family members, this clock is never wrong. I was pleased to see that the time shown on Big Ben exactly corresponded with the time displayed by my own watch - recently purchased by me for $10 at WalMart. So who needs a Rolex?
Bob and Big Ben
The Houses of Parliament, or the Palace of Westminster to give the correct name, were badly damaged in the great fire of 1834. However, Westminster Abbey and Westminster Hall nearby were not damaged. When the rebuilding of the Palace of Westminster was planned, it was decided to match the new building with the Gothic style of the surviving buildings. That probably would not happen today, when architects take sadistic joy in placing unpleasantly contrasting styles next to each other. The plans for the new building featured a clock tower, over 300 feet in height, immediately adjacent to the River Thames. The clock, which was to be installed high up in that tower, had been built by 1854. However, the building of the tower itself had not been completed by then. The tower was not finished and the clock was not in operation until May 31 1859, which was the date of the State Opening of Parliament in that year. Pat and I therefore visited Big Ben a few weeks before its 150th birthday.
Click on player below to hear Big Ben chime for the last time before falling silent for repairs in 2017.
Benjamin Hall
Strictly speaking, Big Ben is not the name of the clock tower. It is the name of the bell which produces those wonderful chimes at fifteen minute intervals. Yet, all over the world, everyone thinks of the tower and clock combined as Big Ben. The original name, The Great Clock of the Palace of Westminster, didn't catch on. But why Big Ben? The most likely source of the name is Benjamin Hall, who was Chief Commissioner of Works during the period of rebuilding. He was also the very popular MP for the nearby constituency of Marylebone and was 6ft 4ins in height.
About a third of the way up the tower, a prison cell was installed. The last MP to be imprisoned there was Charles Bradlaugh in 1880. Few prison cells in the world can have enjoyed such an impressive view. They only kept Bradlaugh in for one night. His crime? He refused to be sworn in on the Bible as a Member of Parliament. Bradlaugh was an atheist. Because of this, Bradlaugh was not allowed to take his seat for several years, despite having been elected as a member of the House of Commons, and he was punished because of his attempts to vote.
(Left) Charles Bradlaugh being arrested (Right) Bradlaugh takes his seat in Parliament
From 1886, he was allowed to take his seat and, in 1888, the law was changed to permit non-believers to affirm, instead of swearing on the Bible. Bradlaugh was a great campaigner for the independence of India, 60 years before it actually happened. He died in 1891 at the age of 57.
When speaking to somebody on their cell phone, the caller these days never really knows where the other person is. That is why Members of Parliament today love it when Big Ben chimes during their telephone conversations with constituents. It proves to the public that they are hard at work in their office in the Palace of Westminster and are not merely spending their time in some restaurant or bar elsewhere.
Big Ben
A clock tower of 300 feet is not a great height, but Big Ben looks taller. There are no competing tall buildings nearby and this fosters the appearance of a greater height. Yet, even at its present height, one must respect the achievement of those who erected it. They did so, in the mid-19th century, without any of the construction aids which are taken for granted today. Enormous care is taken to keep this 5 ton, 150 year old time piece running on time. Behind the clock faces are little heaters, which prevent the hands of the clock becoming impeded by ice and losing their exact timing. For example, in the bitter weather suffered by London a few weeks ago, the hands did not freeze up.
There is doubtless much more for me to say about the technical aspects of this remarkable piece of engineering, but let me instead conclude as I began. It is the emotion within one that is generated by the sound of those chimes that is so special.
This piece, written by Bob, was originally posted on our website on April 9, 2009.
What did King George II of England do with the Royal Charter, which he signed on June 9, 1732 and which provided for the settlement of what is now the State of Georgia? The answer is that he gave it to General James Oglethorpe, a 35-year old soldier and member of parliament.
Oglethorpe and a small band of settlers then crossed the Atlantic and reached what is now the mouth of the Savannah River early in 1733. They then sailed 18 miles up river to the site of what is today the City of Savannah. Oglethorpe selected the site as being easy to defend and had soon erected a circle of forts to protect the new city, some of which stand to this day. The King had not turned over to Oglethorpe a land flowing with milk and honey. The area was far to the south of the nearest British colonies in the Carolinas. The land was swampy and, for much of the year, the climate was humid and unhealthy. To make matters worse, Oglethorpe needed to spend much of his time and resources fighting with the Spaniards who controlled Florida. It is greatly to Oglethorpe's credit that the new colony of Georgia survived and that he founded the City of Savannah.
Savannah laid out in grid pattern
It can be said that Savannah was the first "planned" city in North America. Oglethorpe laid out the roads of Savannah in the shape of a series of 24 squares. In fact Oglethorpe seems to have been a very decent man. He fiercely opposed negro slavery. He worked for good relations with the local Creek Indians. He fought against "the press gang", which forcibly conscripted civilians into the Royal Navy. Finally, he retired to England and enjoyed a long and happy marriage before dying at the age of 88 in 1785. He therefore lived to see the birth of the new nation, including Georgia as the thirteenth and youngest colony. He much approved of this turn of events and was very happy to welcome John Adams, when he arrived in London as the first US ambassador.
How Cranham Hall looked when Bob purchased it
Oglethorpe married Elizabeth Wrighte, who brought into the marriage a property named Cranham Hall, Essex, which she had inherited from her father and brothers. Cranham Hall lies only 20 miles to the east of Central London. Oglethorpe lived there for the final 30 years of his life. In fact, he died there. The story of James Oglethorpe made a big impact on me. I had learned all about him when I was passing through Savannah in 1963. Fourteen years later, in 1977, I was therefore intrigued to read in the press, when I was living in London, that Cranham Hall was for sale by auction. I attended that auction. There were plenty of people there, but few bidders. I was one of the bidders and the property was eventually knocked down to me at a low price. I had become the owner of a historic mansion and six acres of land. It was my plan to restore Cranham Hall as a museum telling the story of Oglethorpe's eventful life, and then to open it to tourists from Georgia. Perhaps the State of Georgia would even help finance it. There were two major obstacles to my idea. Firstly, Cranham Hall had fallen into disrepair and the costs of its restoration would be huge. Secondly, it was not the actual house in which Oglethorpe had died. The original Cranham Hall was built prior to 1600. It had burned down soon after Oglethorpe's death.
In 1800, the present Cranham Hall was built on the same site and incorporated a small part of the old house. Yet that is not quite the same thing as being the house in which Oglethorpe had died. All Saints Church is adjacent to Cranham Hall. Oglethorpe and his wife are buried under the center of its chancel, but I still needed the original Cranham Hall to make my scheme credible. Fortunately, I was quickly able to sell the property to a local millionaire at a good profit. He made it his own home and restored it beautifully. The Oglethorpes, resting peaceful in the church next door, must surely approve.
Cranham Hall after renovations
Another fourteen years passed. I found myself in Savannah once again in 1991. Pat and I were living in Florida at the time. At the time, our children were enthusiastic Girl Scouts, so the family made a weekend trip to Savannah to visit the birthplace of Juliette Gordon Low, the founder of The Girl Scouts of America.
Birthplace of Juliette Gordon Low
Juliette Gordon Low
The house in which she was born in 1860 is located on Oglethorpe Avenue, Savannah. It is an elegant mansion, built in 1821, furnished in the style of the 19th century and including much of her artwork and memorabilia. It was well worth the visit and the project reminded me very much of what I had once hoped to do for General Oglethorpe at Cranham Hall. Nevertheless, the visit gave me a longer opportunity to inspect the squares with which Oglethorpe had laid out Savannah. The grid pattern is unique. The squares are now full of tall oak trees providing much needed shade from a hot sun. One square contains a statue of Oglethorpe himself. Another contains a memorial to the Indian chief who permitted Oglethorpe and his party to settle. Square after square of well preserved 18th century houses make this a very special city.
It was thrilling to see the architecture of Oglethorpe form the background to the famous 1997 movie "Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil", which is set in Savannah. Today, Savannah pays tribute in many ways to Oglethorpe as its founding father. He surely deserves it.
This piece, written by Bob, was originally posted on our website on November 10, 2008.
Of all the locations described on this website, the first one that I ever visited was the stadium in White Hart Lane, Tottenham, where my favorite soccer club plays. Tottenham is a suburb to the north of London, England. The club was founded in 1882. For a short time in its early years, it played its games at Northumberland Park, Tottenham, land once owned by the Dukes of Northumberland.
Henry Hostpurs Percy
An ancestor of that family was Sir Henry Percy (1366 -1403). Nicknamed Harry Hotspur, he was a famous English soldier in his day. Like George Washington centuries later, Hotspur rebelled against the King of England. He took on the royalist forces at the Battle of Shrewsbury in 1403. However, he was unable to foreshadow Washington’s Yorktown success in 1781 and poor Harry finished the battle without his head. He became better known half a millennium later, when the club adopted his name and became known all over the world as Tottenham Hotspur Football Club. The club also has its own nickname of “Spurs”.
My first visit to the stadium in White Hart Lane was in 1944, during World War Two, to see Spurs play Fulham in a match in the wartime league. Players wore huge boots with bulbous toecaps, far different from the slipper-like footwear of today.
During the 68 years which have followed my first visit, I have watched Spurs play whenever the opportunity has arisen. This has been much easier for me recently, because Spurs’ games are now shown live on television all over the world. Watching in America is an early morning undertaking because of time zone differences. This allows one to enjoy a nice big English breakfast at halftime.
Inside old White Hart Lane stadium
In the late 1940s, the crowds at White Hart Lane were huge. There would be 60,000 or 70,000 spectators inside the stadium, with thousands of disappointed latecomers locked out. The stadium was divided between stands, where everyone was seated, and terraces where everyone was standing. Eventually the nanny state intervened and decreed that all spectators at big matches had to be seated. This has reduced the capacity of the stadium to only about 36,000. Today the stadium is always filled to that capacity. Obtaining tickets is almost as difficult as getting in to see the Wagner festival in Bayreuth, Germany (see my story on this). Plans are well advanced to build a larger stadium on the existing site.
London fog could once cause matches to be abandoned but, by mid-century, clean air legislation had largely put an end to London fog. Certainly, in 68 years, I can never recall a Spurs match being abandoned. That is until last Saturday when Spurs were playing Bolton at White Hart Lane in the quarter final of the FA Cup. I very much wanted to see the game. The FA Cup is the oldest football competition in the world. Spurs won the FA Cup in 1901 and several times since. This year they are the bookies’ favorites to win it again.
Fabrice Muamba
On the morning of March 17, 2012, St. Patrick's day, I had promised to drop off our daughter, Tara, at the airport in Tucson, Arizona. She kindly suggested that we arrive in Tucson early and that, on our way to the airport, we find a sports bar that was showing the game. After climbing over many green-clad customers who were celebrating St. Paddy too early and too well, we finally found a TV set showing the game. It was on the ESPN channel. We watched the first 41 minutes, after which the score was 1-1. Then the game was abandoned! What happened was this. A 23-year old Bolton player, Fabrice Muamba, having just come off the field and standing alone on the sidelines, literally dropped dead. His heart stopped beating and he stopped breathing.
We could not see what was happening on the field. ESPN had very sensibly redirected the cameras away from the motionless body to show crowd reaction. The crowd was in a state of shock, with some in tears. What they could see, but what we could not, were repeated and unsuccessful attempts to restart the heart with the use of defibrillators. The other players were badly affected. Some were praying.
Referee Howard Webb in blue shirt
In charge of the game was the top soccer referee in the world, Howard Webb, who had been referee for the World Cup final in South Africa in 2010. Muamba was stretchered off to hospital and the referee abandoned the game. Neither players nor crowd were in a mood to continue. Many people were praying for that young man’s recovery and prayer works – see my earlier article entitled “Paris, France”. Those prayers were answered when the medics succeeded in re-starting his heart after 78 minutes. Although he is at present still in intensive care, he is now sitting up in bed and talking in both English and French. However, I doubt that he still has a career in soccer to look forward to.
As for me, I have something to look forward to. The abandoned match has been re-scheduled for next Tuesday, when I can watch it in the comfort of my own home without being distracted by any noisy leprechauns.
This piece, written by Bob, was originally posted on our website on March 29, 2012.
