Oxford
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Oxford
Talks
Notes from the Womb of the World
OXFORD
Ellis Taylor
Know ye her secret none can utter?
Hers of the book, the tripled crown?
Still on the spire the pigeons flutter;
Still by the gateway flits the gown;
Still on the street, from corbel and gutter;
Faces of stone look down.
'Q'
Forget for a moment please whatever you have heard about Oxford being called for a ford where oxen crossed or the immaculate Frideswide harrying the white ox that bore her back to town with cries of 'Ox Forth!'
And consider this:
The name of ‘Oxford’ arrives from the Saxon 'Osenforda',
originally. 'Osenforta' - a high place by where willow trees grow or better surrounded by willows. Breathing to the rhythm of the seasons, these watery marshes dotted with numerous small eye-lands, mostly silent save for the echoing calls of busy birds or the splash of harrying fish, must have been crowded with these famously ever-reincarnating willow trees and shrubs.
Actually, there is no must have about it, the Oxford area was a virtual forest of withy. (Even up to very recent times several families survived by harvesting and weaving willow for baskets, fish traps, furniture and the rest. Osney Island was renowned for its hardy and skilful basket-weavers.) Osney, like Oxford, gets its name from this vigorous, reviving, and prolific plant. (1)
Oxford connected off-site Articles
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FRIDESWIDE
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"...dedicated to integrating nature and education, and providing experiential learning for all of the senses."
Saint Frideswide
The city’s own patron saint, the much adored and legendary princess Frideswide, suffers from a similar name-confusion, though no one can state with surety that there ever was really such a person. So we speculate: Was she merely the product of fertile imaginations…perhaps liberated by ale or honeymead? Or was she, as so often becomes clear, an archetype, by whom idealistic morals could be held up?
The University feeds the fable and it has proven to be a splendid money-spinner attracting all manner of attention, kudos, students and tourists; although it is clearly uncomfortable with its underlying pagan themes. Any mention of that though, from within or without, is discreetly waved away with a quick flick of the gown.
[Frideswide, for those who don’t know, was (they say) a beautiful princess who was born in about 635CE. Though she was the daughter of King Dydda and his wife, Saethryth the biggest influence on her seems to have been a holy woman called Aelfgith and Frideswide became a nun. She was pursued by an unwelcome royal suitor ‘Algar’, from Leicester, to her forest hideaway, where she had converted a pigsty into a chapel. Things turned nasty and the ne’er-do-well was struck blind. When he repented and promised to clear off Frideswide restored his sight. The tale reveals that Frideswide was therefore not just a heathen witch but a Goddess of the opposition to boot!]
Although some people insist that her name is pronounced (as it sounds to today's homogenised ears) 'Fried - swide', it was, in her day, sounded 'Frithuswith' and to her kin she was known as 'Fritha'.
Frideswide, whose legend went unreported for four centuries, until William of Malmesbury in c.1125 wrote about her, is clearly a conjunction of Frith and withy. With this likely truth set, the mystery of who she was becomes a little (a lot) clearer I suggest. The conventional meaning of her name that is put forward is friðr, (frith) meaning 'peace' and swiðe (swithe) meaning 'strong', however:
'Frith' was an Anglo-Saxon term that essentially meant 'close and abiding connections', like some of us have with the land and nature and with heartfelt friends and family - you know: kin. (2)
'Withy' is an old English name for willow and the willow's propensity to revive even from what appeared, to all intents', a dead stick ensured its attribution to reincarnation, new life, wherever in the world it grew. Willows on islands enhanced the sacredness of them both and the environs of Oxford were, and are still, held prima-sacre because of this; something that is held holy deep within the consciousness of its inhabitants. A couple of years ago a number of willows guarding the present-day island of Osney, on the west bank of the Thames, were covertly ripped out by order of sad insensitive council desk-jockeys who either never had, or have lost their own connection to this inspiring land. The locals didn't take it lying down.
Notes:
(1) Even Saxon coins of the era when history claims Oxford was born disagree with the spelling. One from the C9th, for instance, spells the name ORSNA FORDA.
(2) On the Meaning of Frith: www.friggasweb.org/frith.html
Verse: ALMA MATER: Arthur Quiller-Couch: http://www.online-literature.com/quiller-couch/vigil-of-venus/15
Among trees, can any compare with the sight of the graceful, quietly strong, yet incomparably supple willow? An observation impressed by the Gaelic alphabet where the letter ‘Suil’, which means ‘willow’ is the letter ‘S’, which emphasises for me anyway, besides the above, the tree’s feminine, meandering, watery ways.
Replacement willows by the Thames, Osney Island, Oxford
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