28 November, 2010

'Tis the Season

Even though the Brits don't celebrate the marvelous holiday that is Thanksgiving, Black Friday still marks the beginning of the Christmas season here in Oxford. Yesterday evening, the whole of Broad Street was blocked off for Christmas Light Night. The street became a mini-fair, with tents selling trinkets and food, a concert stage, and small carnival rides for children. As part of the event, theatres and museums around town opened their doors after hours and hosted special events. The main attraction, as the name of the event would suggest, is the official lighting of the Oxford Christmas tree, which sits right on Broad Street (suspiciously close to where the three martyrs were burned, might I add).

I, of course, missed all of these festivities as I was too busy working on my applications for graduate school (and, to be honest, procrastinating on that very task). But in my nightly quest for food, I did manage to get out tonight and take a photo of the tree in all its glory.

The Oxford Christmas Tree

So, believe it or not, Christmas is upon us. It always surprises me how quickly these things seem to creep up on me. Before I know it, I'll be sitting around our tree early on Christmas morning, munching on orange danishes and unwrapping gifts. But before then, I need to make it through the last (!) week of Michaelmas Term, and survive four applications to grad school. I think I can, I think I can.

Speaking of, I should probably return to my scholarly duties. I hope everyone is doing well back home. Stay warm!
Alyce

17 November, 2010

The Alternative Tuck Shop, a Sonnet

With the season of graduate school applications upon me, I'm afraid I haven't had much time to dedicate to blogging. Nonetheless, I do not want to leave any of my dedicated followers hanging! So, for your pleasure, I have written a Shakespearean sonnet in honor of one of my favorite eateries: the Alternative Tuck Shop. Enjoy!


When hungry there’s no place I’d rather eat,
No other shop my cash I’d rather give,
Than that which proudly sits on Hol’well Street,
Not any Tuck Shop, it’s Alternative.
Falafel is the sandwich choice du jour,
Perhaps on ciabatta or baguette,
With hummus and tomato (to be sure),
My stomach’s needs will certainly be met!
I'll add a fizzy drink and a dessert,
(The baklava has always been my vice),
And friendly service (yes, they like to flirt).
All that for such a reasonable price!
I thank them, smile, and then I’m on my way,
This meal, undoubtedly, will make my day.

07 November, 2010

Remember, Remember the Fifth of November

Remember, remember the Fifth of November,
The Gunpowder Treason and Plot,
I know of no reason
Why the Gunpowder Treason
Should ever be forgot.
Guy Fawkes, Guy Fawkes, 'twas his intent
To blow up the King and Parli'ment.
Three-score barrels of powder below
To prove old England's overthrow;
By God's providence he was catch'd
With a dark lantern and burning match.
Hulloa boys, Hulloa boys, let the bells ring.
Hulloa boys, hulloa boys, God save the King!


On the Fifth of November, in the year 1605, Sir Thomas Knyvet made his way to the cellars underneath Parliament where he was about to make a fateful discovery. Only days earlier, a Lord had received an anonymous letter warning him to stay away, that Parliament would receive a 'terrible blow.' When King James I got wind of this letter, he sent Knyvet to investigate. There, he found Guy Fawkes guarding 36 barrels of gunpowder. Clearly, he meant business.

Fawkes had been one of a small group of English Catholics who had plotted to blow up Parliament and assassinate the Protestant King James I, in hopes of installing his nine-year-old daughter Elizabeth as a Catholic monarch. The plot failed, and Fawkes paid for high treason with his life: he was hanged, drawn, and quartered. But most importantly, the King's life was saved by the divine providence of God. Ever since, England has been celebrating.

Every year on November 5th, towns across England celebrate Guy Fawkes Night with displays of fireworks and giant bonfires. One such celebration occurred here at Oxford's South Park, complete with a carnival (including rides, food stands, and karaoke).

Guy Fawkes Night Carnival

Guy Fawkes Night Carnival

Guy Fawkes Night Carnival

WEE!

I used to go on this ride with my sister all the time when I was a kid. EVERY TIME I would be the one to get squished. This time was no different.

After exploring some of the rides, we headed over to the food area where we could get a better view of the fireworks. The show was supposed to begin at 6:45 PM, but didn't get started until 7:10 or so. The wait was completely worth it, as it turned out to be one of the best firework shows I've ever seen. My camera has a setting for fireworks, so I tried to capture some of these moments.


Guy Fawkes Night Fireworks

Guy Fawkes Night Fireworks

Guy Fawkes Night Fireworks

Guy Fawkes Night Fireworks


The fireworks ended with a BANG (unlike Parliament), and the whole park erupted with applause. The show was truly spectacular; however, the most exciting event of the evening was yet to come.

The Wicker Man: Before

This giant wicker effigy stood over 10 meters tall, and was just dying to get torched! This photo is number 666 on my camera, by the way. Coincidence? I think not!

The Wicker Man: The Flame Begins
 The flame began at the effigy's shoulder and quickly consumed the whole body.

The Wicker Man: Fully Alight

The Wicker Man: A Demon

The Wicker Man and Bonfire


As you can see, as the flames enveloped the effigy, the wicker charred and it took on a wholly demonic appearance. It was both beautiful and terrifying. What a show!

Unfortunately, I had to leave soon after the bonfire was lit in order to get back to my work, but I had a marvelous time. Considering how fun the night was, I would highly recommend that the United States develop a few holidays to celebrate the failed assassinations of our nation's leaders. Richard Lawrence Night, anyone?

Good night.
Alyce

01 November, 2010

Happy Hallowe'en!

I guess I should say, "Happy November!" Can you believe November is already upon us? Not only that, but I am currently in Week 4 (out of 8!) of Michaelmas Term. Halfway through! Time flies, as they say.

But back to Hallowe'en. With grad school applications, finalizing my schedule for Christmas Vacation, and my weekly essay on archaeological theory, I had plenty to do this weekend. Even so, I wasn't about to let an Oxford Hallowe'en pass me by without at least a little celebration.

The Oxford Information Centre organizes many themed tours throughout the year, including Alice in Wonderland (Lewis Carroll was a student and teacher at the college of Christ Church), C.S. Lewis & J.R.R. Tolkien (close friends and teachers at Oxford), and, of course, Harry Potter (they filmed more than just the Ferret Tree here, you know). The tour du jour on Hallowe'en? "Magic, Murder, and Mayhem." Absolutely, yes.

It was a drizzly day, but not unbearable, so my friend Petra and I decided that this tour was a must. Our excellent guide was a man named Rob Walters, the author of Haunted Oxford, as well as a few other books of local interest. He is incredibly knowledgeable on all things Oxford--people, buildings, and ghosts alike--so we got a good dose of Lewis Carroll and Harry Potter trivia along with the expected murder and mayhem. Although I really enjoyed hearing all the stories he had to tell, for the purposes of this post I will stick to the ghost stories. And as I have other work I need to tend to, I'll limit myself to retelling one story from each of the three M's: magic, murder, and mayhem.

MAGIC
One cold, dark December night, in the year 1832, the Vice-President of Brasenose College, Reverend T.T. Churton, was walking down the alleyway behind the college when he spotted a dark, cloaked figure standing at one of the windows. It seemed as if the figure was trying to pull a student through the window. Churton knew this to be an impossible task, as iron bars and wire mesh covered all windows to prevent students from leaving the college through the alleyway.

Rob Walters at the Ghostly Window
But as he approached closer, he could hear the screams and see the gushing blood of the student as the figure pulled him through the wire mesh. Churton ran to the figure to put an end to the horror, but he could not touch him. A mysterious force kept him away. Unable to help the student, the Vice-President ran around to the front entrance of Brasenose and alerted the Porter to the situation. The two immediately ran to the student's room, and as they opened the door a throng of screaming, fearful students fled to the quad. Edward Trafford lay on the floor, his head marked by severe cuts from the wire mesh. He was dead.

The students in the room that night were part of a so-called Hellfire Club, and Trafford, the club's president, had been attempting to summon the Devil when, as the students recounted, blood suddenly burst from his head and he collapsed to the floor.

Churton was the only witness to the scene in the alleyway, but he believed until theend that he had seen the Devil. And if you look through today's records, you will see that Edward Trafford of Brasenose College did indeed die on that very night.

MURDER
This story is less ghostly, but does capture some the horrors that have taken place here at Oxford in years past.

After Mary I acceded the throne in 1553, she quickly restored Catholicism as the religion of England and left a bloody trail in the wake of her reforms. This bloody trail led straight to Oxford in 1555 with the execution of the Oxford Martyrs: Hugh Latimer, Anglican chaplain to King Edward VI; Nicholas Ridley, Bishop of Rochester; and Thomas Cranmer, the Archbishop of Canterbury. These three men were powerful in the Anglican  Church, and thus in direct opposition to Catholicism and the Queen. All three were tried for heresy, and on October 16, 1555, Hugh Latimer and Nicholas Ridley were burned at the stake. Cranmer was made to watch his fellow Anglicans die from a tower on the city wall. After seeing the horror of their demise, he issued a recantation of his Anglican beliefs, accepting the Pope as supreme and infallible. This recantation was deemed insufficient, so he wrote another. And another. And another. In all, he wrote five recantations before one was finally accepted. He was to give this recantation as a public address in the University Church.

On that fateful day, he took to the pulpit and began with a prayer. But instead of reciting his prepared remarks, he renounced all of his previous recantations, called the Pope "Christ's enemy," and declared that his sinful hand, which wrote and signed the recantation, would be punished by burning first. He cried, "Let me burn as Latimer and Ridley did!" The townsfolk responded, "So you will!" He was pulled from the church and brought to the very spot where the two before him were executed nearly six months earlier, and he was burned to his death.

Rob Walters where the Oxford Martyrs perished.
Today, the spot where the Oxford Martyrs were executed is marked by a cobblestone cross in the middle of Broad Street. Supposedly, some have seen phantom flames emerging from the stone marker. Ghostly or not, this spot continues to be a place of remembrance, and some will lay flowers on it to this day.

MAYHEM
Just as with the above story, the following tale may not be ghostly, but it is terrifying nonetheless. Historically, at Oxford (and other medieval institutions) there has been an intense rivalry between what is called the 'town,' or non-academic town residents, and the 'gown,' or academic members of the university (because we wear funny gowns, get it?). This rivalry would lead to heated altercations, usually beginning in the town pubs and from there spreading onto the streets. Perhaps 'altercation' isn't the appropriate word... As the saying goes, "There are historic battlefields on which less blood has been spilt than in the streets of Oxford."

On one such occasion in 1355, a riot between the town and the gown erupted at the Swyndlestock Tavern and quickly grew into a battle involving thousands of townspeople and students. Each side came equipped with various weapons, and at the end of the several-day conflict 63 students had perished. Oxford promptly banned students from visiting the town pubs.

Was a student murdered here? MAYBE!

The scariest part of that story is the glee with which our tour guide, a proud member of the 'town,' told it. I probably don't have anything to worry about, right?

Anyway, those are just a few examples of the stories I heard. Others involved a ghost driven by the guilt to the grave of his lover's husband (whom he murdered, of course), the spirit of William Archibald Spooner haunting the New College chapel by night, and the murder of the last wild boar in Oxford by means of Aristotle. Perhaps I will tell them one day, but I haven't the time now.

Now, I don't believe in ghosts, so I remain quite skeptical about some of these stories. However, as we stood along the so-called Dead Man's Walk, mere meters away from where a Royalist colonel had been (wrongfully) executed for treason, our guide mentioned a very interesting fact. He said that 10% of the British population believe they have had a "ghostly experience."

"Where have most of those experiences occurred?" He grinned. "Oxford."

The rain began to pick up and a chill settled over the air. As we continued on our tour, I thought to myself: If there is any place in the world that can convince me ghosts do exist, this is it.

An Autumn Shot along Rose Lane
Hope everyone had a spook-tacular weekend!
Alyce