Shrine of St Frideswide, Christ Church, Oxford

Suddenly, everyone's going on pilgrimages.

Just as the Latin Mass Society was winding up its annual pilgrimage to Walsingham (see here and here - and trust me, compared to some walks it was pretty normal), The Daily Telegraph was puffing a (reconstructed, as it happens) walking pilgrimage route for St Cedd in Essex. (The author of the article himself has a new book out*, which looks interesting, though there's also a link to the website of the British Pilgrimage Trust.)

And not wishing to be, er, left behind, my own alma mater has got in on the act. Apparently there's now a St Frideswide pilgrimage "from Oxford to Reading". That in and of itself sounds weird of course, because she's buried in Oxford. But in fact the route connects up to the Camino Inglés, which of course ends up beyond the mountains and across the sea... in the Field of Stars.

*The Spectator reviewed it back in March. Apparently he mentions these nutters at Wayland's Smithy. (It's a dangerous business, Frodo, going out of your door...)

JMW Turner, 'Canterbury Gate, Christ Church' [H/T: Andrew Cusack]

'More things are wrought by prayer / Than this world dreams of'

Next morning he was up and washed and dressed, all but his jacket and waistcoat, just as the ten minutes' bell began to ring, and then in the face of the whole room knelt down to pray. Not five words could he say - the bell mocked him; he was listening for every whisper in the room - what were they all thinking of him? He was ashamed to go on kneeling, ashamed to rise from his knees. At last, as it were from his inmost heart, a still small voice seemed to breathe forth the words of the publican, 'God, be merciful to me a sinner!' He repeated them over and over, clinging to them as for his life, and rose from his knees comforted and humbled, and ready to face the whole world.

[Tom Brown's School Days (1857)]

"Gentlemen, " said Sir Henry presently, in his deep voice, "we are going on about as strange a journey as men can make in this world. It is very doubtful if we can succeed in it. But we are three men who will stand together for good or for evil to the last. And now before we start let us for a moment pray to the Power who shapes the destinies of men, and who ages since has marked out our paths, that it may please Him to direct our steps in accordance with His will."

Taking off his hat, for the space of a minute or so, he covered his face with his hands, and Good and I did likewise.

I do not say that I am first-rate praying man, few hunters are, and as for Sir Henry I never heard him speak like that before, and only once since, though deep down in his heart I believe that he is very religious. Good too is pious, though apt to swear. Anyhow I do not remember, excepting on one single occasion, ever putting in a better prayer in my life than I did during that minute, and somehow I felt happier for it. Our future was so completely unknown, and I think the unknown and the awful always bring a man nearer to his Maker.

[King Solomon's Mines (1885)]

'These are Daeron's Runes, such as were used of old in Moria,' said Gandalf. 'Here is written in the tongues of Men and Dwarves:

BALIN SON OF FUNDIN

LORD OF MORIA.'

'He is dead then,' said Frodo. 'I feared it was so.' Gimli cast his hood over his face. 

[The Lord of the Rings (1953)]

And the Pope has cast his arms abroad for agony and loss,

And called the kings of Christendom for swords about the Cross,

The cold queen of England is looking in the glass;

The shadow of the Valois is yawning at the Mass[.]

Prince Philip on his part in the Assisi Scandal