Day Fifteen, Part Two: Monday, 15 November 2010

To continue on, to Part Two of my memorable visit to Cambridge....

On this beautiful November day, as I left Churchill College, I decided to take a leisurely walk back to the city of Cambridge along Queen's Road, and look into visiting King's College Chapel.  The area I was in was very leafy: there were old houses situated along the road, and students walking or bicycling along.  Traffic on Queen's Road was busy too.

The walk must have taken twenty minutes or so.   I tried to remember the cab ride earlier, to find the shortest route to King's College.   I found an open gateway, where others were also walking or bicycling through (and it wasn't marked "Private"), so I followed along and crossed a stone bridge over the River Cam--which isn't a very wide river at all.   It led to an almost-medieval maze of ancient buildings, which revealed little courtyards within, like the one below.

Only students in the particular College could enter the courtyard, or their guests (photo left).  I imagine if that weren't the case, there would be hordes of tourists crashing about, snapping photos left and right.   It's not real conducive to a learning environment.   But I'm glad visitors can have at least a tiny glimpse within, through the gates.

The walk across the River Cam bridge leads visitors into what's called The Backs--that is, the river faces the 'backs' of several Cambridge Colleges.   It is really a lovely setting--pastoral, even on the edges of a city.   In the summer, visitors picnic along the shoreline, or take a ride in a little boat called a punt.   It's a flat-bottomed rowboat, and it's steered by sticking a long pole into the river bottom.   It is a favorite pastime for both students and visitors.

I probably could have snapped a boatload of photos just of The Backs: they were peaceful and so beautiful (photo right).   I could see why: it was absolutely magical.   It looks so much like a pastoral English painting from past centuries.   And I was so glad the sun was out, and not a drop of rain to be found anywhere.  I could walk about to my heart's desire!

Eventually, I reached my destination: the awesomely beautiful King's College Chapel (photo below left), founded by the ill-starred King Henry VI.  The Chapel's first Foundation Stone was laid in 1441, by the-then 19-year-old King.   But it took five English kings, four master masons, and an army of craftsmen over a century to finish building the Chapel.

King Henry VI was a scholarly and devout man.   The only child of the warlike King Henry V (of the Battle of Agincourt fame), he founded both King's College in Cambridge, and Eton College, the famous public school near London.   He originally intended King's to have one Provost and twelve impoverished students, but later decided on a much grander plan: there would be seventy scholars (to represent the original 70 evangelists chosen by Jesus in the New Testament), who would be drawn exclusively from Eton College.  Today, King's College students come from not just Eton, but other schools too.

 In both Colleges, Henry's first concern was the chapel, and he wanted King's College's chapel to be without equal in size and beauty.   And I think he succeeded in his goal, brilliantly.

The Chapel's foundation stone was laid on 25 July 1446.  It was the first step in Henry's plan to build a great court, of which the Chapel would make up the north side.   But in 1455, the Wars of the Roses broke out, when Richard Plantagenet, Duke of York challenged Henry's right to the throne.  Building work on the Chapel was irregular at best for about eleven years: the annual grant of 1000 pounds from the King's family estates in the Duchy of Cornwall came at various intervals.   In 1461, King Henry was taken prisoner by the Yorkists, and building on the Chapel ceased.   Only the foundation stone had been laid, and the walls rose irregularly from east to west.   

Sadly, King Henry VI was murdered in the Tower of London on 21 May 1471.   He had inherited two great kingdoms (England and France) from his father, and lost them both.   But at the same time, however, he founded two of England's greatest Colleges, at Cambridge and at Eton.

King's College Chapel is also the home of the world-famous "Festival of Nine Lessons and Carols", broadcast live on Christmas Eve on the BBC.  The Festival was conceived by a former British Army chaplain called Eric Milner-White--who was also the Dean of King's College.  His experiences as an army chaplain led him to believe that more imaginitive worship services were needed in the Church of England.   

This service has been sung every Christmas Eve since its beginning after the First World War in 1918--even during the Second World War, when the Chapel's stained-glass windows were removed for their protection from potential bomb damage (and thereby losing all the interior heat).   I've heard this service on my local PBS radio station the last several Christmas Eves, and it is magnificent.

Upon paying my admission fee, I entered the Chapel, and before my eyes stood a most magnificent sight indeed.   The organist in the Loft, above the Nave, was practicing softly, and I joined a few other visitors in wandering around the Nave, gazing at the stone fan-vaulted ceiling above (photo left), and the sunlight streaming through the lovely stained-glass windows.

The fan-vaulting's color was grayish in the afternoon light: not as blindingly-bright as the similar ceiling I saw in the Henry VII Chapel at Westminster Abbey in London.  But it was awesome nevertheless.

The Organ Screen (photo right) divides the Chapel into two sections: the Antechapel (where I was standing when the above photo was taken) and the Choir, on the other side.  It is made of dark oak, and was a gift from King Henry VIII.  It is a marvelous example of Tudor woodwork.  Among the carved flowers, portcullises, fleur-de-lys and monsters, one can see the King's initials "HR", or Henricius Rex, those of his second queen, Anne Boleyn ("RA" or Regina Anna), and the falcon badge of the Boleyn family.   

It is surprising that Anne's initials are still found here, because Henry had her executed in 1436!   Perhaps those responsible for eradicating all physical reminders of Anne missed the Chapel?

I went into the Antechapel and sat for a bit in the Choir, and spent a few moments just looking around.  In front of me above the high altar was a massive painting by Peter Paul Rubens, The Adoration of the Magi (photo left).   It was painted in 1634 for the Convent of the White Nuns in Louvain, Belgium--but was acquired by the Marquess of Lansdowne when the Convent was suppressed in 1783.   It then came into possession of the Grosvenor family, and was sold at auction in 1959 to a Major A.E. Allnatt--who then presented it to King's College in 1961; it was the Major's wish that the painting would again be an altarpiece in a great church.   

I wished I'd taken a good photo of it; instead, it was something of a blur; the photo of the painting is from the Internet.   By the way: one could take photos inside the Chapel, provided one didn't use flash.

But I did get a few photos of the stained-glass windows (photo right); there are 26 in all, and date from the time of King Henry VIII, between 1517 and around 1547.   

The lower windows begin and end with scenes from The Golden Legend: a story of the life of Mary, Jesus' mother, who is the patroness of both the College and Chapel.   In between these windows are scenes from the New Testament story of the life, death and resurrection of Christ, the coming of the Holy Spirit, and the history of the Early Church.   

The upper set of windows show scenes from the Old Testament, foreshadowing the events shown below.  In one of these windows, King Henry VIII himself is seen in the guise of King Solomon, receiving the Queen of Sheba.

The West Window (photo left)  depicts The Last Judgement.   King Henry VIII's successor, King Edward VI, was a very staunch Protestant, and did not like 'graven images', so this huge space was filled with plain glass until 1879, when the current window was put in place.  

The East Window, (photo below right) above the altar, shows six scenes from the Passion of Jesus, ending with the Deposition from the Cross.

There was so much more to explore in the Chapel: there were doors on either side of the Choir, leading into smaller chapels where one could pray privately, and rooms displaying the history and building stages of the Chapel over the centuries.  

I entered the door on the south side first, and found myself inside a lovely small Memorial Chapel.   It was once a chantry chapel of John Argentein, Provost of King's College from 1501-1507, and physician to King Edward IV and Edward's young son, King Edward V and his brother, Richard of Shrewsbury, Duke of York: these young boys were the two "Princes in the Tower", who were murdered in the Tower of London.

This chapel was converted in 1920-1921 and renamed All Souls' Chapel, and commemorates College members who died in both World Wars, including the poet Rupert Brooke.   Below are a few photos from this lovely Chapel.

I loved the way the afternoon sun streamed through the stained-glass windows (two photos below left) onto the altar.   There was laid a single poppy wreath on the altar; no doubt that was done the 

day before, on Remembrance Sunday (photo left).   Seeing that single poppy wreath was a moving moment for me.

And then, one had a look at the massive number of names on the opposite wall (photo below): there must have been at least a couple thousand of those listed, just for the First World War!   A smaller number of names of College members who died in the Second World War was nearby.  But I could not get over how many names were on that First World War list.   Truly, an entire generation was lost in that terrible conflict.

The poet Rupert Brooke was a Fellow, or Faculty member, of King's College when the First World War broke out.   He first served in the Royal Naval Volunteer Reserve as a temporary Sub-Lieutenant, and saw action with the Royal Naval Division at Antwerp in October 1914.   He sailed with the British Mediterranean Expeditionary Force to Turkey in February 1915, but came down with sepsis after being bitten by an infected mosquito.   Brooke died on a French hospital ship on 23 April 1915, aged just 27 years old, and was buried in an olive grove on the island of Skyros, Greece.  He still lies there today.

One of Brooke's most famous poems is called The Soldier.  And it reads like this:

"If I should die, think only this of me,

That there's some corner of a foreign field that is forever England.   There shall be In that rich earth a richer dust concealed;

A dust whom England bore, shaped, made aware,

 Gave, once, her flowers to love, her ways to roam,

A body of England's, breathing English air,

 Washed by the rivers, blest by suns of home.

And think, this heart, all evil shed away,

 A pulse in the eternal mind, no less Gives somewhere back the thoughts by England given; Her sights and sounds; dreams happy as her day; And laughter, learnt of friends; and gentleness; 

In hearts at peace, under an English heaven."

This Memorial Chapel is a beautiful place just to sit for awhile, and remember the young UK men who died in both World Wars.   And to also remember the young men and women, who were dying today, in Afghanistan.

I left this Chapel and crossed the corridor into a second chapel, which was reserved for private prayer.  I took a few minutes to sit and pray a little, thanking God for the opportunity to visit King's College Chapel.   I filled out a prayer request card and dropped it in a small box before leaving.

From here, I walked across the Choir, to visit an exhibit on the creation of the Chapel.   It was quite impressive: it included prayer books from Henry VI's time and other similar artefacts, and a cutaway view of the creation of the fan-vaulted ceiling.   


There was also a geneaological chart (photo right), showing Henry VIII's ancestry, with both Plantagenet (Yorkist) and Tudor forebears.

                                                         

In the same display area, I found this really beautiful stained-glass portrait of King Henry VI (photo left below).   

In a way, I felt very sad for Henry VI: he was not of a war-like temper like his father, King Henry V.   He was much more inclined to learning, and to prayer.   He also suffered from periods of insanity, becoming totally unaware of what was going on.   His unpopular French Queen, Margaret of Anjou, virtually ruled England during those periods.   He was in prison, in the Tower of London, when he learned of the death of his only son and heir, Edward of Westminster, Prince of Wales, at the Battle of Tewkesbury in May 1471.   

Tradition says his Yorkist enemies murdered him in the Tower of London's Wakefield Tower, while Henry knelt in prayer.  To this day, on the anniversary of Henry's death, the Provosts of the Colleges he founded--King's College and Eton College--lay roses and white lilies at the place where Henry died.   While Henry may not have been the warlike King his father was, his own legacy is much more long-lasting, when one visits King's College, and its gorgeous Chapel.

I stopped briefly in the Choir, for a few more photos.   It was really difficult to leave such a beautiful and historic place as King's College Chapel.   But the afternoon was slipping away, and I wanted to get a few more outdoor photos of the Chapel, before the sun set altogether.   I made my way again to The Backs, where I noticed a few people taking advantage of the lovely day to go punting.   


If it hadn't been November, and I wasn't alone, I might have taken advantage of the opportunity.   It looked like great fun!   But alas, it wasn't to be.   I contented myself with taking photos of the punters on the River Cam.

I think there's a student-run company, that does the punting 'work'; from experience, they probably know how far to stick the pole into the bottom of the Cam, and not tip the punt over.   

The bridge in the photo (left) reminds me a little of Venice, and the punter is the gondolier!  But I don't expect an English punter to suddenly burst out into song: methinks they are a bit more reserved.    But it sure is a beautiful way to go.

I lingered quite awhile on The Backs, taking photos and just absorbing the atmosphere.   I didn't want to leave right away.   The day had been so magical, at the Churchill Archives and then at King's College Chapel.   But I knew I had to get back to London soon, before it got dark.   So I mentally waved 'au revoir' to King's College, and The Backs, and returned to Queen's Road.

When I returned to Queen's Road, I looked around for a taxi stand, but found none.   The traffic was getting heavier, and the daylight lesser, and I was nowhere near the city center.   I asked directions of a couple of people, and I also followed a few road signs (of course, like a fool, I was sure I'd remember my way around, and didn't consult Allen's map!).   

Eventually, I found my way to a busy street near Corpus Christi College: the sidewalks were full of people going to and fro.   I approached a young couple, and asked where I could find a taxi.  The young woman gave me a cell phone number to call, and I wrote it down and dialed--and she gave me a description of the area, to give to the taxi dispatcher.  I thanked her and her companion for their help, and waited for the taxi to arrive.   By this time, my poor feet were screaming in pain, from all the walking in the wrong shoes.   I wanted to curse myself, for not having the right walking shoes....

I waited for the taxi across the road, in front of this rather bizarre-looking thing: it's the "Corpus Clock"--a sculpture clock, it appears.   It's a well-known local landmark (left).   The thing on the top--although it's hard to see it in the photo--is a grasshopper!   Does it symbolize time slipping away?

Here's an interesting bit of trivia: the "Corpus Clock" was unveiled on 19 September 2008, by the world-famous Cambridge physicist Stephen Hawking!

Very soon, the taxi arrived: a big passenger van.   I got in and closed the door, and off we went--straight into Cambridge's rush-hour traffic!   Thankfully, the jam didn't last long, and soon I arrived at the train station.  I paid the driver, and dashed into the station just in time, as the train to London's Kings Cross station was just about to arrive.   By the time the train pulled into Cambridge station, it was just about dark.

Unlike the morning train from London to Cambridge, this one was not an Express train: it stopped at several small stations along the way.   Most of the passengers in my carriage were school kids, and mainly teenagers.   Many of them were a bit loud and very chatty.   But most of them got off at these small stations, to go home.   I pulled a book out of my backpack and tried to read, but all the noise wasn't real conducive to concentration.

After an hour or so, the train pulled into Kings Cross station, and I joined the throng getting off.  Instead of using the Kings Cross Underground station, I went next door to use St Pancras' Tube stop; it's much brighter and newer-looking.   I managed to squeeze into a full train for Victoria Station, and stood for the entire six stops between St Pancras and Victoria.   London's rush hour was going full-tilt, and I joined the heaving throng on the escalator, and heading out onto Victoria Street.   I stopped at the Pret A Manger shop near the station and bought my evening meal, and headed back to the hotel, hoping for a restful night in.   But it didn't quite begin that way!

When I got to my room and tried to open the door with my card-key, it didn't work.   The door wouldn't unlock.   So I backtracked to the Spa at 51 reception desk, where I described my problem to Nabeelah, a very helpful staff member.   She told me the card needed to be 'recharged': evidently, the magnets or whatever weren't working.   She directed me to go to the Front Desk, where I met Patricia, the young Spanish girl who checked me in Saturday evening.   I described the situation again, and she kindly fixed the problem, and the key worked fine afterwards.   Then I was finally able to crash--and get off my sore feet!--and enjoy supper.

It was the end of yet another amazing, and memorable, day in the UK.   I love Cambridge very much!