History at CCCS
A funny thing happens in a place like Oxford. The past, it seems, stands still. The buildings of its skyline were built so long ago that they never seem to have been built at all, but rather form a mountain range of unlit gothic caves, crocketed spire peaks and ranks of roosting gargoyles, beneath which sprawls a subterranean warren of quads and colleges – inhabited of course, by undergrads, indistinguishable from the average denizen of the Misty Mountains.





















