Guildford, Surrey

My first impression of Guildford is this – sleepy and lifeless. At half past eight on a Sunday morning nothing was open. It looked like everyone has left town but had left their things behind. The castle ruins stood on a hill. This was surrounded by a lovely well-manicured garden which served only to heighten this eerie desertion. No life stirred until at nine a church bell rang somewhere. Still my efforts to find a place for breakfast were in vain. I should have had something at home. Here in the heart of Surrey, in a prosperous town close to London, there is nothing to eat! This is the laziness that dresses a Sunday morning.

What else could I do but walk the empty streets hoping for an open cafe and find out more about Guildford at the same time. There are a number of churches in town. The cathedral on a distant hill looked different. It must be visited on another occasion. The Holy Trinity Church is not Gothic. The interior is fairly modern. The memorial of The Queen’s Regiment has some splendid carvings on wood. Opposite this church is the Hospital of the Blessed Trinity, built between 1619 and 1622 by George Abbot who also translated the authorised version of King James I Bible.

The hospital courtyard opens itself but hides the splendours or ugliness of the interiors. The courtyard is of fine proportions and balanced in every aspect. Perhaps, there is a Golden Rule somewhere. Geometric lines are at the heart of this balance. It is a square with neat lines bordered with flower beds. Triangular gables are inset with windows. Windows themselves have criss-cross glazing. Chimneys behind the gables add interest and purpose. The clock is naturally circular but it is circumscribed by a diamond that plays with the stepped edges of the gable. Every door and window is in the right place, not too many or too few. The spaces between them are sometimes covered with ivy. The climbers display the free curves of nature but there is no rigidity in the man-made lines either. Even the drain pipes are artistically engraved and cling as the climbers to these walls from the past.

Guildford is twinned with Freiburg, a town in southwest Germany. This is a great concept and perhaps should be introduced between India and Pakistan. This facilitates exchanges in sport, music, arts and culture. School visits, cooperation between church groups or societies are just as beneficial in promoting understanding at the grassroots. If nationalism is pursued with fervour its breakdown towards global unification, at least on a cultural level, must become feverish.

So I left Guildford on an empty stomach, impatience having worn off the appetite. I walked to Shalford. Here I took to the Down’s Link, a wonderful walking track that connects the North Downs and the South Downs. Along this path were blackberries growing in profusion. An elderly couple were picking them to make pudding. Another gentleman said he would mix it with sugar and eat it. I picked some too. The berries are at their best early in autumn. This was only a temporary relief. I still had to walk another three miles for my first proper meal of the day.

For the rest of the day I was in Clandon Park where I understood better Palladian architecture. This derives from the writings of Andrea Palladio. His important work, Architettura, was published in 1715-20. This was taken up by the English upper class with enthusiasm. Clandon Park is an eminent example of this style.

The exterior is of red brick. It is simple and of balanced proportions. Classical columns on the south front add formality. They also enhance the overall importance of the building designed to impress any visitor. The format parterre comes as an adjunct to the house but in itself is quite boring.

The interiors present a different picture. Opulence and grandeur offset the simplicity of the exterior. The Marble Hall has rich marble carvings in the chimneypieces and overmantels. The themes are classical – one overmantel portrays Diana, the goddess of hunting; the other portrays Bacchus, the god of wine. The superb plasterwork on the ceiling has few peers. The figures literally leap out of the ceiling. I was told that wooden supports have been used between the ceiling and the wall. These have been plastered over and linked to the elaborate cornices to create this striking effect. The four corners of the ceiling allude to the four cardinal virtues – Justice (scales), Prudence (snakes), Fortitude (broken column) and Temperance (a bride). The central section models Hercules holding a mirror while Omphale whom he serves looks on with his club. It is impossible for the lay person to read into such allegories or stories of classical mythology unless one is curious enough to ask questions. The National Trust volunteers are always helpful in making every one of my visits a satisfying one.

For all its grandeur, the Marble Hall is not a room I like. It is too white and pale. The lack of furniture adds to this displeasure. It is too open. It serves no purpose other than to show off the wealth of the owner. When it comes to showing off, the general rule is that if you can’t afford it, cheat. Thus the columns in this hall are of wood but they are covered with material, perhaps paper, to give the appearance of marble. The two paintings in the room are ordinary but at least they add some colour to the room.

The best room to me is the Palladio Room. This overlooks the parterre on the south front. Its dimensions are to the rules of Palladian architecture. According to the NT printed guide, the length is one and a half times the width and twice the height. I wonder if the length and width are in fact related by the Golden Mean. To translate, the room is just long enough to make it spacious. If it were any longer it would be more of a corridor than a room. The width is in just proportion to the length. This gives the room an intimate feeling. Any wider, this feeling would have been lost. Two sets of furniture can be placed at either end of the room with an open space in between. In like manner, the height builds on this feeling. It is not too low to make it claustrophobic. It is not too high to become a hall. The relation between the height and the length comes into play when one looks down the length of the room with the floor and ceiling comfortably framing the perspective.

The furniture too held much fascination for me. The eagle tables are ingenious, both aesthetic and functional. The cabinets, japanned, Chinese-styled or Chippendale are as much admirable as the collection of porcelain they hold. The commodes found in more than one room are splendid works of art. The colour, texture and grains of each wood is different. These have been brought together with great precision. Yet another wonder is the Italian scagliola table of 1650. The table top is essentially of plaster in different colours and designs. This is then fired and polished to resemble marble. There is no end to imagination in art. As technology progresses new art forms will appear, new processes will be invented and new tastes will begin to flourish.

The last visit of note at Clandon Park is The Queen’s Royal Surrey Regiment Museum. Here there are many curious items. One such is a paper-wrapped horlicks tablet. A familiar item is the Malay kris. Medals of honour make a impressive collection. The highest medal of honour in the face of an enemy is the Victoria Cross. In other situations, the highest honour is the George’s Cross which was established in 1940 by King George VI.

I took note of two officers, Pte A Brooks and L/Cpl G Henshaw, who were awarded the latter for risking their own lives to save those of others during the Quetta Earthquake (India) of May 1935. In such situations all race divisions disappear. Every life becomes important.