Oxford and Charles, King and Martyr

I will get it out of the way that, although I venerate Edward the Confessor and Henry VI, I am not a devotee of Charles I.  I will leave it at that out of consideration for a number of my Anglo-Catholic friends and because my opinion on his worthiness is not that important anyway.

At the same time, one of the venerable charms of Oxford is its devotion to Charles I.  Statues and portraits of him are all over the University on college quads, in libraries, in dining halls, in chapels, and more.  And that although he “borrowed” most of the colleges’ silver plate to mint coins!  There is even a window in a college chapel in which the face of Jesus looks suspiciously like Charles.

It is as if Oxford, which was Charles’ de facto capital during the Civil War, never really fully recognized his defeat in said war.  It is a perpetual, very civilized rebellion of the elite, a refusal to give in to defeat along with a willingness to forgive Charles’ errors, even the silver.  As far as the University of Oxford is concerned, Charles I remains and always will be their king.

And in case one thinks I am waxing a bit much about an unwillingness to bother to take down statues and portraits no one cares about anymore, I urge such impious skeptics to repent and get thee to Pusey House tomorrow at 6:30pm for a High Mass for “Charles, King and Martyr.”  See for yourself Oxonian devotion to His Sacred Majesty, King Charles the First, of Glorious Memory.

Banqueting House Whitehall

I mentioned that when I visited London on St. Edward’s Eve, I did more than listen to two great choirs. One destination was the Banqueting House at Whitehall.

Seeing the great ceiling paintings of Peter Paul Rubens is worth the price of admission and is, in fact, the main attraction.

The main reason I found the paintings interesting is the insight they give into the mentality of Charles I. He had the paintings done in honor of his father King James I and, boy, do they honor him. I found them over the top to the point of being funny.

In the central painting, King James ascends up into heaven accompanied by the heavenly host. In another, personified England and Scotland look gratefully upon the wise James on his throne. And the whole scheme has virtues triumphing over vices, because of King James, of course.

The ceiling portrays the past King of England as godlike . . . which is not far akin from how Charles saw himself as king. An examination of the ceiling gives a good idea as to how Charles could be so insufferable he got his head lopped off.

And the ceiling is one of the last things Charles saw, which is ironic indeed.

By the way, Oxford, which was King Charles’ friendly home for much of the Civil War, still seems to be fighting said war. Portraits and statues of him are everywhere.