My feet wish to continue on with my exploration of London, but my eyes, overwhelmed by so much splendor, beg me to linger. The Palace of Westminster displays more arches than the New York Marathon. Steeples shoot up along its sides and adorn its roof-line, clustered together more tightly than the teeth on a lawn rake. Intriguing details, such as the heads of kings, shields (or royal family crests), and lions and unicorns, adorn its outer walls, reminding me of the depth of riches within Westminster Abbey. And this enormous structure is protected not just by gargoyles and police, but by a king.
Richard the First, better known as Richard the Lionheart, sits atop his war-horse, his sword raised toward the heavens. While the building he guards was (and is still known as) a palace, it no longer houses royalty, but elected politicians. I find a certain irony here. Richard was the third legitimate-born son of King Henry the Second, and as such should never have been crowned. But such as his ambition for the throne that he led his soldiers into battle against those of his brothers, and later defeated his father’s forces as well. So now his statue guards the meeting place of those who have, over the centuries, have continually taken more of the monarch’s powers for themselves, and in the process relegated their royalty to little more than figureheads. And from what illustrious vantage point does this brave king guard the palace from? Why, the middle of the car park (or parking lot), of course.
This is another aspect of London that takes some getting used to. There’s more history packed into one square yard here than there is in one square block back in San Diego (if not in one square mile), and it’s all crammed together like the members of a football team (American or European) trying to squeeze themselves into a Mini Cooper. According to the Palace website, architects Charles Barry and Augustus Welby Pugin obsessed over every aspect of the building, and neither lived to see its completion. (Sadly, Pugin was briefly admitted to an insane asylum shortly before his death). Nevertheless, it’s a stunning building that has found a permanent home in our imaginations. It appears in so many movies, including those of two of the world’s most popular franchises: Harry Potter and James Bond. And after agents Steed and Peel destroy August de Wynter’s weather-control machine beneath the Thames in the 1998 movie “The Avengers”, the transparent globe in which they escape surfaces in front of the Palace of Westminster. They have saved the Houses of Parliament, and in so doing, they have saved civilization.
One fact is certain: the Palace of Westminster stands as a beautiful testament to the glories of Gothic architecture. Or Neo-Classical, depending upon which source you read. Or, for that matter, Gothic Revival, Neo-Gothic, Perpendicular Gothic, or even Neo-Perpendicular Gothic. (I’m glad we established that unassailable fact). I just find myself growing a little sad for poor Richard. You would think, for so beloved a historic figure, that he deserves better than to end up guarding the car park.
Richard the First, better known as Richard the Lionheart, sits atop his war-horse, his sword raised toward the heavens. While the building he guards was (and is still known as) a palace, it no longer houses royalty, but elected politicians. I find a certain irony here. Richard was the third legitimate-born son of King Henry the Second, and as such should never have been crowned. But such as his ambition for the throne that he led his soldiers into battle against those of his brothers, and later defeated his father’s forces as well. So now his statue guards the meeting place of those who have, over the centuries, have continually taken more of the monarch’s powers for themselves, and in the process relegated their royalty to little more than figureheads. And from what illustrious vantage point does this brave king guard the palace from? Why, the middle of the car park (or parking lot), of course.
This is another aspect of London that takes some getting used to. There’s more history packed into one square yard here than there is in one square block back in San Diego (if not in one square mile), and it’s all crammed together like the members of a football team (American or European) trying to squeeze themselves into a Mini Cooper. According to the Palace website, architects Charles Barry and Augustus Welby Pugin obsessed over every aspect of the building, and neither lived to see its completion. (Sadly, Pugin was briefly admitted to an insane asylum shortly before his death). Nevertheless, it’s a stunning building that has found a permanent home in our imaginations. It appears in so many movies, including those of two of the world’s most popular franchises: Harry Potter and James Bond. And after agents Steed and Peel destroy August de Wynter’s weather-control machine beneath the Thames in the 1998 movie “The Avengers”, the transparent globe in which they escape surfaces in front of the Palace of Westminster. They have saved the Houses of Parliament, and in so doing, they have saved civilization.
One fact is certain: the Palace of Westminster stands as a beautiful testament to the glories of Gothic architecture. Or Neo-Classical, depending upon which source you read. Or, for that matter, Gothic Revival, Neo-Gothic, Perpendicular Gothic, or even Neo-Perpendicular Gothic. (I’m glad we established that unassailable fact). I just find myself growing a little sad for poor Richard. You would think, for so beloved a historic figure, that he deserves better than to end up guarding the car park.
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