Historical Note

What really happened and what is only a story?

Recorded History is a particular version of events, written in hindsight and justified in terms of cause and effect, which, in themselves, are a reflection of the values of a particular period.

This was especially so in the Victorian era of British history. We were a nation of inventors, explorers, and conquerors. Our reportage justifies every action—from the languages of the newspapers to essayists and letter writers, the tone that dominates is a confident, masculine voice of analysis.

As a writer, I have always been fascinated by the missing elements of history: the gaps and contradictions within the reported events. The places where the story doesn’t quite ring true. At such points I begin to wonder what if? What if this isn’t the whole truth of the matter?

The Oxford University Museum is a place full of contradictions— some of which were intentional, some accidental. The Professor is very loosely based on a real-life character, Professor Acland, who was at the forefront of the campaign for science at Oxford. Contemporary accounts show him as a compassionate, intelligent, deeply religious man. Edgar’s Professor is a man of similar vision, but with the humanity removed.

ACLAND HAD A long-standing friendship with the artist and writer John Ruskin, who campaigned for the development of the University Museum and was instrumental in the design of the building. Ruskin developed passionate theories about how architecture could echo nature: and this was at the heart of his Gothic designs. More information on this principle can be found in his essays, The Stones of Venice. Most striking is Ruskin’s assertion that there are other forms of intelligence and religious worship than the purely abstract. He believed that craftsmen who copied from nature did through that very act of mimicry become closer to God. This radical idea provided me with the kernel of the book—that first “what if?” What if this was true? What if there was a craftsman born with that innate skill to make a whole new world out of nothing? How would this ability manifest itself? How would such a man learn his skills? What mistakes would he make? How would he challenge the system? How would he be treated? In this context, Edgar’s coming of age plays along the lines of subversive ideas that can also be found in the creative literature of the time—specifically Blake’s Songs of Innocence and Experience, written at the turn of the nineteenth century.

This “what if” at the heart of the story inevitably led me to the University Museum. It is a remarkable building—at its time, at the absolute forefront of Gothic design. It was, from the start, intended as a metaphor for man’s place in the world at that particular point in history. Steel structures had been built previously, but not on such a scale—and only in the industrial environment of, for example, railway stations. The architecture of the museum set out to marry traditional stonework with cutting-edge engineering. This was more than a whim of design; it was intended as visual metaphor to reflect the intention of the building: traditional understanding combined with innovation.

The “what ifs” of writing are always a delight: elements to play with. As the story takes shape, they become matched by the frustrating “what can’ts.” There are several fascinating historical facts about the museum that simply didn’t fit within Edgar’s tale. Here are a few tasters…. The physical layout of the museum was designed to echo a cathedral form, and this is at the heart of Acland’s philosophy. It always was intended as a place of worship, although the terms of worship were being dramatically reinvented. The “polished pillars” which I refer to are an integral part of the structure. Every column of the gallery is composed of a different type of stone, taken from a different area of the UK. The carvings that decorate the columns represent plants native to that specific region. To the modern eye, this is simply a nice detail. In Acland’s time, this was revolutionary: his museum was a microcosm—he was bringing the landscape of the nation under one roof.

In his conversations with Edgar, the Professor remarks upon his “enemies.” The museum was a source of conflict throughout the University. The concept of the museum was easily agreed upon—but as the reality of the construction gathered pace, the building became increasingly contentious. This was partly due to Acland and Ruskin’s principle of free reign for the craftsmen. These men who were deemed closer to God were allowed to choose their own carvings to illustrate the columns and the cornices of the structure. The skill of the work is remarkable: creatures peer out at the observer from unexpected corners, almost too lifelike for comfort. This was not the kind of illustration that many of the University authorities expected— especially because much of the work was funded by the University press, which, in turn, gained much of its income from the printing of the Bible. In fact, the argument reached such a level that senior members of the University ordered the carvings to cease. In response, the impassioned head stonemasons, the O’Shea brothers, carved parodies of the University men as “parrots and owls” roosting over the main entrance to the museum. The stonemasons were subsequently fired. The scandalous carvings were chipped away, but the outline remains today. Equally, Acland and Ruskin’s grand vision for the cathedral of nature was never fully realized: the design remains obviously incomplete.

However, many of the more remarkable facts did make it into Edgar’s story. Professor Acland really did have a reputation for collecting outrageous specimens. The giraffe was publicly boiled, although there are conflicting accounts of where this actually happened. The tail, however, was taken by a dog. The skeleton can be found in the museum today, with its leaden replacement.

The roof of the museum was cast incorrectly, did collapse, and this was seen by some as an act of God. The details of how the roof was taken down and reconstructed were not publicly recorded— again, a fascinating piece of missing history. Perhaps the University was reluctant to document its mistakes. However, I researched the basic principles of ironworking, drawing many references from the construction of the Crystal Palace in London, which was of a similar era.

There was no public debate about the design on the museum and, as far as I know, no magic lantern—although such an apparatus did exist at that time. However, the museum was opened in 1860, shortly after the publication of Darwin’s Origin of the Species. Later in the same year, it hosted the first public debate on evolutionary theory. The Bishop of Oxford faced Darwin’s disciple, Thomas Henry Huxley. It was commonly referred to as the argument “Between the Apes and the Angels.” Huxley won the debate, and this is seen by many as the beginning of the split between science and religion.

In the world outside the museum, Jericho was indeed an area frequented by prostitutes. William’s cottage may or may not have existed, as that area was redeveloped in the late nineteenth century. The White Horse tavern can still be found on Broad Street and is one of the oldest pubs in the city. The book of invention that Edgar studies so avidly is an amalgam of da Vinci’s sketches. Facsimiles can be read in the Bodleian Library, in Oxford.

The location of the forge and the Invention Shop were both convenient fictions—although the mechanical principles described therein are all historically accurate. There was a meteor shower over Oxford, but at a different time, and not quite so dramatic. It was, however, seen as an omen of change. There was never any Great Inferno on Broad Street. I also took a few liberties with the descriptions of the workings of the court system and the jail.

Finally, if you look hard enough, the described calcified men can be found on their respective rooftops. William’s college is a reimagined version of New College, and its dragon-decorated tower is one of the landmarks of the city of dreaming spires.

Further information on the University Museum can be found at their excellent website: www.oum.ox.ac.uk.