...one of the Original Night Climbers! I'm delighted to report that the man seen here, innocently passing the time of day atop of the Wedding Cake of New Court, St John's, is coming to the launch next week. Now in his 90th year, Nares Craig was actually rusticated for climbing King's in '37 - an event referred to in
Night Climbers and detailed below in an extract from his own memoirs. Only slightly less limber I'm sure and apparently quite fit and well, hopefully he's looking forward to recounting his exploits on the night. I'm very much looking forward to meeting him.
Tickets (free) can be arranged by contacting Heffers either by ringing 01223 568568 or
emailing them. Alternatively you can walk in and get them from the cash desk. In case there's any chance you've forgotten,
here for publication updates and
here to pre-order your own copy.
Extract from Nares Craig's memoirs:
"In early May 1937, in connection with the coming coronation, a rash of bunting and union jacks etc, suddenly appeared in the town. Strung across the narrow streets they clashed starkly with the beautiful old college buildings, and prompted me to think of some appropriate way of mocking the whole pantomime of royalty. The idea of making use of the astonishing “publicity site” (above the East End of Kings Chapel facing Kings Parade, and visible all over the town) soon took shape. The remarkable pre-eminence of that “publicity site” is best illustrated by the reproduction of the press-cutting headed “All Cambridge saw it”, dated June 1963. I discussed the idea with my close climbing colleagues, O’Hara Murray, and Alec Crichton, and both were enthusiastically supportive; O’Hara agreeing to share the climbing with me, while Alec offered to help make the dummy, and with getting it to the site.
The dummy figure of the king was formed by a boiler suit stuffed with newspaper, wearing garish checked trousers, a red, white and blue jacket, with a football bladder for a head and a cardboard crown somehow suspended above it. A six foot length of hollow curtain rod through the two arms, with a generous length of sash cord threaded through it provided the means for suspending “George” (as he soon became named) between the two east end pinnacles of the chapel. To add to the levity, “George” carried a quart bottle in one “hand” and some kind of lightweight tankard in the other. Being before the days of plastic, the bottle was inevitably glass, which added seriously both to the weight and to the risk of calamitous breakage.
Having already climbed to the roof level, and then up one of the pinnacles, I knew what times would be required for each stage of the operation, and was able to prepare a strict timetable for both hoisting “George” to roof level, and then further, in order to finish before day-break at 5am, and this time-table O’Hara and I agreed on and memorised.
At dusk on the evening of 11th May, carrying George, we left my rooms and reached Kings without arousing suspicion. We soon got George over the gates and to the usual starting point for the climb, which was the bottom of the “chimney” (a climbing term for a vertical cleft, say, approximately three feet wide, in which the climber can “wedge” himself, with his back against one side and his feet the other and thus make his way up the 100 feet from ground to roof,(Alec remained nearby as “lookout”) while O’Hara and I made ready for the off at our agreed hour of 12.30 am. I then made a start, carrying a 150 foot length of rope, and, in due course, reached the roof. Following my lowering the rope, O’Hara attached the end to George and I was able to start pulling him up, which, naturally had to be done slowly and with great care. Having freed the rope, I was then able to lower it back to O’Hara to tie himself on so I could offer him the usual degree of protection as he himself climbed and joined me on the roof.
We were now ready to start the final phase, so O’Hara climbed the south east pinnacle with one of George’s supporting cords tied to his waist, the end of which he then attached to the pinnacle top, and then climbed back down to the roof. I then set off up the north east pinnacle with the other one of George’s supporting cords tied to my waist, and the pulley in my pocket. Following my securing the pulley near to the top of the pinnacle, I passed the supporting cord from George through the pulley and threw the cord down to O’Hara, which was the signal for him to start pulling. Then, just as it was getting light and George started rising to his appointed position – catastrophe struck! The pulley squeaked so loudly that I could actually see the porter and two or more “bulldogs” looking up and clearly able to appraise the whole situation.
The “proctors”, the main guardians of student discipline employed assistants, nicknamed “bull-dogs” (invariably ex-rugby players) specifically to chase and apprehend offenders.
Shortly before, I had taken the precaution of securing both 150 foot lengths of climbing rope and lowering them to the ground to provide for escape, by abseiling, for each of us, and we immediately made use of them, with O’Hara going first, and I following, having been delayed by the considerable difficulty of descending the pinnacle.
On reaching “terra firma”, I found at least two “bulldogs” struggling to hold down O’Hara who called out: “run, Nares, I can manage!” Unfortunately, having had no food or rest all night, I was unable to outrun one of the “bulldogs”, who dragged me from the water half way across the Cam and delivered me to the Dean, dishevelled and dripping water over his beautiful oriental rugs. Whatever protestations of regret I may have tried to make were soon rudely interrupted by O’Hara’s arrival in the clutches of at least two “bulldogs”.
His trousers had been so badly torn in his struggles that he was virtually bare from the waist down, and not a pretty sight. Further, in spite of my efforts to calm him, he was uttering a succession of oaths – probably due to exhaustion and hunger – which did little to assist our predicament. As soon as possible, we made our ways back to our respective lodgings, to await our fates. Meanwhile the Dean had asked Wilfred Noyce to take the stairs to the roof, and then climb up and rid him of the embarrassment of “George” suspended over his chapel on coronation day.
In those days we were not very “publicity conscious”, or I would have warned the local press in advance. Therefore it remains solely to the imagination to visualise what our dummy coronation must have looked like, occupying an identical position to that of the many years later “Vietnam” banner illustrated. Wilfred of course had no option but to comply with the Dean’ request. As he experienced the quite severe difficulties of climbing the pinnacles, he very probably realised that it must have been I who had “done the deed” and he may well have regretted having to cut down the handiwork of his old climbing comrade. However, he managed to lower “George” carefully to the ground and then took him to his rooms, where the Kings dons gathered to inspect him, apparently with considerable interest. We learned this later from Alec who had rightly kept well clear of the fray, but, being a member of Kings, he was able to walk around freely and assess the situation generally.
As we expected, Milner White, Dean of Kings, demanded that Trinity send me down (“rusticate” me) for good, and that Pembroke College do the same to O’Hara Murray. However, when “Jim” Butler called me before him, it became evident that, although extremely angry, he was not keen to fulfil the Dean’s demand in full, no doubt realising that he risked the permanent loss of one of his Christian Science Sunday School “flock”, and I then realised the important “insurance value” of my having been, at least from time to time, an attendee at those Sunday Schools. So, a compromise was arrived at in the form of “rustication” (dismissal) for the remainder of the current term for myself, and, in fairness, for O’Hara as well. Alec later explained that Wilfred, who was held in some esteem by the Dean, assisted nobly with pouring oil on the troubled waters, and promoting the two lesser, compromise penalties."
Hi folks. It was a great success - what can I say but thanks to everyone. Over the course of the evening over 100 people turned up and most bought a copy of the book. Thanks to everyone who was there and to all who couldn't make it but sent their best wishes. Of course - the main attraction was Nares:
