Sunday, 14 September 2025, Oxford, Blenheim Palace, Balliol College

Written 9 November 2025

Two touch-screen coffee dispensers—no waiting—but also very good pots of tea from the kitchen.

By law, Mick cannot drive more than six consecutive days, so today John, a colleague of his from the same company, drove up at the crack of dawn from Bath to take us on our morning's excursion. The closest the bus could park to the hotel was several blocks away (when we arrived and left, hotel staff were waiting there with big trolleys on which to trundle our luggage to the hotel and then back to the bus), but day off or not, Mick was there (out of uniform), supervising boarding.

By 8:45 am, we were off to Blenheim Palace, which has been on David's bucket list for decades. The palace normally opens to the public at 10:30 am, but today, they opened at 9:30 am just for us, so we had an hour-long private guided tour before anybody else showed up. (We were warned that the restrooms would not open until 10:30). Blenheim rightly bills itself as "Britain's greatest palace."

It's located in the middle of the Cotwolds, an area of about 800 square miles that extends into five counties and is reckoned to be an especially pleasant region. It was built at the behest (and the expense) of Queen Anne, from 1705–1722, as a reward for John Churchill, a highly successful statesman and soldier who figured largely in the Glorious Revolution (replacement of the Catholic James II/VII with the protestant William and Mary). Queen Anne made him the first Duke of Marborough, and the house was named for his victory at the Battle of Blenheim (in the War of the Spanish Succession).

The palace consists of three wings that stand on three sides of a the Great Court. On the map of the estate shown here at the left, the palace is above and to the left of the bright red "you are here" label, and the light-colored blotch in the middle of it is the Great Court. The central wing is west of the court. The other two, each of which has a large central courtyard, are north and south of it.

Our bus entered the grounds through what's now labeled the "main gate" (at the bottom of the map, just beside the grey-shaded village of Woodstock) and parked in the triangular lot to the right of the road. Of course, before they laid things our for tourist visits, the main entrance would have been through the long allée of trees you can see on the map, over the little bridge and in through the central gate on the open (east) side of the Great Court.

Written 10 November 2025

Here (left) we are in the interior courtyard of the south wing. The folded café umbrellas to our left mark the restaurant. It's called The Orangerie, so I assume that was the original function of those rooms. The gift shop is just beyond them.

Passing under the clock tower, we emerged into the Great Court (right). The tower ahead of us, on the opposite side, marks the entrance to the courtyard of the north wing.

Turning to the left as we entered the Great Court, we found that the central pavilion of the center wing was entirely shrouded in scaffolding and white scrim. I was sorry that we didn't get the iconic full view of the main wing, but in some ways, we were lucky to be there when we were.

First, this year marks the 75th anniversary of the palace's first opening for public tours, so the tour and museum had been specially spruced up. But second, and more important, because of the major renovation of the central pavilion that necessitated all that scaffolding, an unprecedented temporary change had been made to the tour route. For the first (and, according to the docent, last) time ever, tours were passing through several rooms of the current (12th) duke's private appartment! And in addition, also for the first and last time ever, visitors were allowed to ride (under escort) up in the construction freight elevator to the top of the central pavilion for the advertized "once in a lifetime views" out over the palace roofs and the surrounding grounds and inward over the palace attics!

Here's the entrance hall, just inside the main door in the center of the central pavilion. To the right is the fresco on its ceiling.

At the left here is the inside of the main front doors. They were built in 1516–17, reputedly of oak from the park, but the amazingly elaborate locking mechanism was added somewhat later.

Only the best were hired to build the palace. The docent mentioned that all the wood carvings were by Grinling Gibbons.

At the right here is the bed (and the room) where Winston Churchill was born in 1874. Winston's father, Lord Randolph Churchill, was the younger brother of the 8th duke. He and his American wife Jennie were visiting for a house party when Jennie went into labor just 7 months into her pregnancy and gave birth later that night. So Winston was the nephew of the 8th duke and the cousin of the 9th. He never lived here, but it's where he came to visit grandma, so he spent a good deal of time at the palace over the years.

Written 11 November 25

Many walls along the tour were coverd with cases holding Chinese procelain. It's mainly the Spaulding collection, consisting of 4000 pieces; Spaulding gave it to the palace.

You'll remember from my 2024 diary of our Viking cruise on the Elbe that August the Strong, ruling from Dresden at the time, started the Meissen porcelain factory, and at one point, a deal was made—some Meissen porcelain was traded to the palace for some dogs of a famous strain bred at Blenheim. Of course, August discovered, when they arrived, that all the dogs were males and that they responded only to English commands.

Notice, in the photo at the right, the little felt mouse in a chef's toque. This was a phenomenon we encountered in most of the palaces and homes we toured. The docents place little toy animals, usually mice or birds, some realistic and some whimsical, here and there in the public rooms, as a way of keeping small children interested during the tours—the children are encouraged to make a game of spotting them all. Blenheim was particularly densely stocked with them.

After the "china anteroom" came the duke's private chambers, where no photos were allowed. One room was a nice little library, furnished with red lacqered chnese cabinets that belonged to Consuelo Vanderbilt spencer-Churchill (about whom more below). They were actually made in England in 1660 but made to look chinese.

Also some hunting paintings with beautiful dapple grey horses by Munning. At least one of them portrays one of the Dukes of Marlborough and his son.

The duke's private dining room is draped with tapestries of battle scenes. The table was set for four when we were there, but with all its leaves in place, it stretches out to seat 16.

In the smoking room, lined with tapestries and paintings was a painting of a tigress by George Stubbs. The model for the painting actually lived here. An Indian notable came to visit the fourth duke and brought a tigress cub as a visiting gift. She was added to the menagerie already kept on the grounds. On another wall was a big-screen TV.

Lady Henrietta Spencer-Churchill, eldest daughter of the 11th duke, is an internationally known interior designer; she designed all the fabrics.

A room called the grand cabinet is always kept in darkness because it houses all the most valuable and fadable items. We were also shown a carpet made at the Savonnerie carpet works founded by Louis XIII, (no one explained why it was called Savonnerie, which means soap factory; perhaps that was the original use of the building), as well as a small vessel reputed to be Marie Antoinette's traveling chamberpot.

We emerged from the duke's private rooms and back into photographic country with the Green Drawing Room, followed by state and drawing rooms of other colors.

Here are portraits of two particularly notable duchesses. In black is the first duchess, Sarah. She is said to have treated her servants well, she left her lady in waiting money, and she kept a doctor on call for the servants.

Unfortunately, both her sons died of smallpox at different ages, and she was painted in black because she was mourning one of them at the time. By special dispensation, the title went to her eldest daughter, Henrietta, but she also died, so it was to be passed on the second daughter, Anne, who married into the Spencer family. She died before inheriting it, but she she left sons. The eldest became the 3rd duke, as Spencer, but the family later petitioned to reinstate the name Churchill, so since then, the dukes' surname has been Spencer-Churchill.

The 3rd duke, Anne's son, held the title for 60 years. He brought in Capability Brown to do the gardens.

The portrait at the right (to which my photo does not do justice) is of the unfortunate Consuelo Vanderbilt. Her mother, Alva, was desperate for her daughter to be a duchess, and the Spencer-Churchills were desperate for money, which the Vanderbilts had. Both Consuelo and the eldest Spencer-Churchill boy (the 9th duke to be) were in love with other people, and they said so, to each other and to their families, to no avail. The Vanderbilts locked Consuelo in her room until she broke down and agreed to the match, but she is said to have sobbed through the whole ceremony. The couple dutifully produced two sons (Consuelo coined the phrase "an heir and a spare") before divorcing. Both remarried (though not to their original loves), Consuelo happily and the groom disastrously. He then divorced his second wife, Gladys (she insisted on the pronunciation "glay-diss"), and only managed to evict her from the palace by firing all her servants and turning off the power and water, then had to do the same thing to get her out of the London townhouse. She lived into the 1970's; he died before the divorce was final.

In the red drawing room was a large portrait by Reynolds of the 4th duke and duchess and a bunch of their children. Their grandson, the eventual 6th duke, is shown (to the left of his grandfather) as a little boy who carries under his arm a case with the Marlborough jewels. Unfortunately, the intervening 5th duke squandered the whole family fortune, so the jewels had to be sold.

The 4th duke's wife was Lady Caroline Spencer, and she appears in the portrait with enormous hair. Her hairdresser was paid twice what the butler was. The number of servants in the house peaked at about 100 under the 4th duke.

The protrait at the right is of Consuelo Vanderbilt, the 9th duke (the one who was Winston Churchill's cousin), their heir, the spare, and the little family spaniel.

The writing room was lined with a series of 10 tapestries commissioned by the first duke; only a couple of them actually commemorate battles he won.

In the First State Room was an elaborate suspended cradle commissioned by Alva, Consuelo's mother, and copied from one in the Doge's Palace in Venice.

George III stayed in the Third State Room when he was a guest of the 4th duke.

Lady Rosemary Mildred Spencer-Churchill, daughter of the 10th duke, was one of six maids of honor at the 1953 coronation of Queen Elizabeth II, and the photo at the left here is of the dress she wore for the occasion. (Lady Rosemary is still living at this writing, at age 96.)

At the right is the statue of Queen Anne, commissioned in 1735 by Sarah, the first duchess, that stands at the head of the Long Library. Apparently, Sarah later had a falling out with the queen that led to her and her husband's living abroad for a few years. (A movie, The Favourite, with Olivia Coleman is based on that story.) They returned to Blenheim three years later, the day after the queen died in 1714. They nevertheless installed this statue to honor her memory, as all the Marlborough wealth and title were due to her.

The Long Library, also called the Long Gallery, is very long and very high and is lined with 10,000 thousand books. They are not the originals, as those had to be sold off during the family's financial troubles, but replacements were purchased with the Vanderbilt money that came with Consuelo. The room is also equipped with an 2300-pipe Father Willis organ, installed in 1891. Three of the pipes were long missing, but they came back by mail years later—a boy from one of the schools that lodged here during WWII had taken them, but on his deathbed he had then sent back.

The room is used for weddings, and last year for the European Summit and to receive President Zelensky. During WWII, the housekeeper started a hospital in this room. That housekeeper was the model for Mrs. Hughes of Downton Abbey. Julian Fellowes apparently spent months at Blenheim doing research, and much of the operation of Downton Abbey is modeled on that of Blenheim Palace.

The tour ended at the Long Library, but we then had free time to explore the kitchens and the Churchill museum in the basements, venture outside into the gardens, or otherwise explore on our own.

Of course, I started with the kitchens. At the left here is the 1896 floorplan of the basement of the central wing. The rooms prepared for display were mostly in the right-hand side of it.

At the right is a display of some of the kitchen's copperware—mostly pots and teakettles of all sizes, and a few decorative molds. Note the small panel of bells at the top, near the ceiling.

On facing walls of one large room, to either side of the wall of copper pots, two stoves faced each other. with a large wooden work table in between. David found a chair beside one of them and sat down to rest his ankle while I prowled through all the kitchen spaces.

Both were installed in what clearly had once been open fireplaces with large chimneys.

Here's the main bell panel, placed as it was in Dwnton Abbey, on the wall over the long table in the servants' hall.

At the right is the butler's office.

In other rooms, the scullery was equipped with a huge double sink and wooden racks for drying dishes. Some menus and a group photo of the staff were posted. A balance scale big enough to weigh whole pigs was mounted on a wall. Riddling racks in the hallway implied that the household aged its own sparkling wine. Big baskets of (artificial) fruits and vegetables were stacked, and (stuffed) pheasants, ducks, and rabbits hung from rafters. A few costumed docents were stationed here and there to answer questions, and a quiet recording of kitchen sound effects played in the background.

The exhibition about Winston Churchill was hugely informative, but I didn't find it very photogenic. Most of it consisted of text and photos, but I was struck with the display intended to emphasize that, in addition to being a statesman and his other roles, Churchill was an exremely prolific author.

At the left, you can see his typewriter, from which pages seem to shoot up the wall. Then, at the right, you can see the blizzard of pages continue up the wall and away across the ceiling, over David's head as he studies a shelf displaying bound copies of some of the complete works.

The only section of the gardens I had time to explore was the "upper water terraces," in the angle between the center and northern wings.

I stepped out of the basement level directly into the area shown here at the left. To my left along the side of the house were arcades open to the gardens furnished with wicker furniture and labeled "summer terrace" and "breakfast table." As I moved farther from the house, I could see farther and farther out over the terraces that led down to the lake shore.

But I didn't go far because I didn't want to run out of time before seeing the "once in a lifetime views." The management had actually installed a second freight hoist and an enclosed viewing platform for use by visitors who didn't want to climb hundreds of stairs to see the view. I had to hunt up a docent to operate the lift for me. As you can see, it had metal mesh sides and a panel warning against its use in high winds.

The restoration job is costing 8 million pounds for the roof and 12 million overall. It involves 31 miles of scaffolding and is scheduled to be finished a year from now. I guess the extra expense seemed small. As part of the job, they are installing seriously heavy-duty guttering to protect the result, so it won't have to be redone in the future.

Here's a view of the Great Court. The lone figure at the lower right corner is David, on his way back to the courtyard of the south wing and the rendez-vous point, where there were chairs he could settle in to wait. I'm glad David opted out of coming up with me—I loved it, but he would have hated every minute.

Beyond the Great Court, you can see the little bridge and beyond that the long allée of trees, which begins just beyond the victory column you can see in the distance.

At the right is a view over the rooftops toward the lake at the foot of the water terraces.

Turning my back on the view of the great court and looking toward the bulk of the house yielded this view of the denuded ceiling and rafters of "Housemaid Heights," the rooms up under the roof where the female servants were housed. A symetrically placed structure a few yards away was "Workman Heights," where the male servants lived. The roofs have been removed and will be rebuilt in the course of the restoration.

At the right is a view across the Great Court to the north wing.

When I ran out of time, I went back to the lift and was conducted back down to ground level. Back on the bus, leaving the site, we saw many white tents going up, part of the preparations for the Blenheim Palace International Horse Trials, which will begin in a few days.

The portions of the Blenheim estate that we saw form only a very small part of all that's available to visitors who want to spend more time. For example, you can visit the exhibition in the stables and the fire engine garage. The attractions in the formal gardens include the Secret Garden, Temple of Health, Roundel, Rose Garden, Temple of Flora, Arboretum, Grand Cascade & Pump House, Boathouse, and Temple of Diana/Churhill Memorial Garden. A small railway line connects the main palace with the Walled Gardens, which in turn includes the Butterfly House, Kitchen GArden, Blenheim Bygones Exhibition, and Marlborough Hedge Maze. Several restaurants are scattered here and there. It goes on forever.

The rain held off while we were at the palace, but it had begun by the time we got back to Oxford. Because the Ashmolean Museum was between the drop-off point and our hotel, we stopped off there briefly. This is open-house week-end in Oxford, but the Ashmolean is free and open to the public anyway, even on ordinary days. We were there primarily because of a particular artifact, a famous Celtic buckle that David wanted to see (years ago we had visited the site where it was found) and that we were sure was in the Ashmolean. But the staff there had no clue what we were talking about, so we didn't stay long.

Written 12 November 2025

We found lunch at The Wig and Pen, near the hotel and right across from the New Theater Oxford. It was Sunday, so we ordered the special Sunday Roast lunch, choosing roast sirloin of beef over roast chicken and the vegan option (nut roast Wellington). The beef was not such a much—it had good flavor but was way overcooked for "roast beef" and way undercooked for "pot roast," pretty tough. For £15.75 each, we got two slices of the beef, and (are you ready?) sage and onion stuffing, Yorkshire pudding, garlic and rosemary roast potatoes, roast parsnips, maple and thyme roast carrots, cauliflower au gratin, broccoli, garden peas, and individual little stainless saucepans of superb, dark, rich beef gravy. Wow. If we wanted pigs in blankets as well, there was a small surcharge. The vegetables were uniformly outstanding! David wants me to work on duplicating the potatoes, and I want to master that great cauliflower!

Then we had some time to digest and rest our feet at the hotel before our dinner outing.

Dinner was in a private dining room at Balliol College, directly across the street from our hotel. It was hosted by two grad students: Alex, who's studying political science (I think), and Cam, who's studying particle physics. Alex met us at the door of the hotel to lead us across the street and partway along this impressive fa¸ade to the entrance through the porter's lodge, under the pointed archway.

Balliol is very old, even by Oxford standards, but the Victorian fa&ddecil;ade is much newer.

At the right is one of several quads we passed through as Alex showed us highlights of the college's buildings. I'm afraid I spent more time photographing the vegetation than the buildings. Alex pointed out a mulberry tree planted in 1609, in King James's time. It's looking pretty aged, but three of its offspring are thriving elsewhere in the grounds. Another courtyard held a beautiful big Liriodendron, and I spotted a lot of other North American natives, like southern magnolias and oregon holly grape.

One of the areas we were shown was the college chapel. The eagle lectern, visible at the center of the altar rail, is among the oldest objects in the college; the pulpit may be even a little older, perhaps Jacobean (1605–25).

14th-, 16th-, and 19th-century chapels have succeeded one another on the same site. The college's (and the chapel's) patron saint is St. Catherine of Alexandria. She was the one who was condemned to torture and death on the wheel, but the wheel burst when she touched it, which is why we call a spinning circular firework a "Catherine wheel."

Yet another quad was less formally landscaped. The college is very spacious, a whole bus stop long in longest dimension.

After our short tour, we reached the private dining room where we met Cam and were served dinner. The first course was stuffed grilled eggplant with quinoa à la Grecque and romesco sauce, garnished with clover. I know it looks as though someone knocked over a flower pot, but it was delicious!

The second course, which I didn't get a photo of, was breast of chicken with braised red cabbage, roasted butternut squash, and creamed potatoes. Also very good.

Dessert was the most photogenic—mascarpone brûlée tart, lemon curd, elderlower sorbet, and raspberry. Yummy.

We were seated at two tables. Cam sat at ours and Alex at the other—halfway through, they switched. They spent the meal and some time afterward telling us about the college and answering our questions.

Balliol was founded in 1263 by John I de Balliol (whose son, by a strange process, later became king of Scotland). Its claim to being the oldest college in Oxford is disputed only by Merton College, on a technicality. It's now one of 39 colleges in Oxford University.

As part of its endowment, Balliol owns a little of London Guildhall; the lease on it still has 700 years to run.

Balliol students wear their academic gowns at matriculation, at commencement, and when they take exams. When Cam defends his dissertation, he'll have to wear it. The college is one of the largest in Oxford, with about 390 undergraduates and about 400 graduate students. It admits only 3 or 4 new undergraduates per subject area per year. It includes 80 or 90 faculty members, called "Fellows," as well as some college lecturers. About 180 nonacademic staff work for the college. The practice of admitting students solely on the basis of academic merit through competition (rather than connections and patronage) is called the Balliol System because it was introduce by two 19th-century masters of the college. In 1974, the first Oxford colleges went coed; Balliol joined them in 1979. (Dorothy Sayers fans will remember that Lord Peter Wimsey was a Balliol man.)

Among the most interesting things we learned is that the undergraduate curriculum is basically a reading list. Students are expected to come to the college alreading knowing what they want to study and with whom. Each is assigned a tutor (from among the fellows), who assigns them reading and essays on that reading, and the student meets once or twice a week with the tutor and (typically) one other student to talk about the reading and what they have written about it.

Recreation and athletics are strongly encouraged. Cam and Alex said that you are generally expected to get your work done 9 to 5 so as to have the evening free for social activities. Cam was a rower. When the makers of The Boys in the Boat were casting the movie, they hired Oxford rowers to fill the "other" boats in the races. Cam played a member of the Swiss team!