ARE YOU GOING TO FRIDESWIDE SQUARE?

Following the failure of Oxford's richest college Christ Church to build its underwater housing project in the flood plain hamlet of Binsey, its latest plan to transform the traffic intersection it owns, arguably Britain's ugliest, in front of Oxford railway station, has also collapsed due to the bankruptcy of its development partner Castlemore/Spring. In 2002 this famous bottleneck, formerly known as the Jam Factory, was renamed Frideswide Square after the city's pious seventh-century abbess who is said to have founded a priory where Christ Church cathedral presently stands, and who is honoured as the patron saint of the city's property speculators.

In celebration of the scheme's postponement, and to launch his campaign to be appointed to the newly-vacated chair of Oxford Professor of Poetry, OUP author Andrew Malcolm has penned his own personal prayer on the subject. Malcolm adds: "Before any e-mail campaigns get underway, I should like openly to confess to having had an affair, twenty-five year ago, with one of the university's mistresses, who invited me to get into bed with her, but then turned out to be a prostitute and convicted blackmailer. By the way, I'm not sure if I've mentioned that according to Charles Darwin, I'm a distant relative of his."

Are you going to Frideswide Square?
Botley Road, Hythe Bridge Street and Thames,
Remember me to those who drive there,
For ne'er was she a true love of mine.

Have Christ Church fill its four acres of land,
Botley Road, Hythe Bridge Street and Thames,
Between the station and crossroads they stand,
Can they e'r be a true love of mine?

Plough in the cash, amid horns, amid jams,
Botley Road, Hythe Bridge Street and Thames,
Quadruple the traffic, the Heavens be damned,
Ne'er she'll be a true love of mine.

Make me an Oxford or Cambridge shirt,
Botley Road, Hythe Bridge Street and Thames,
Lighter in colour but darker in dirt,
How can they be true loves of Thine?

Have them try soak them in yonder dry Spring,
Botley Road, Hythe Bridge Street and Thames,
Where nought but more flooding the autumns may bring,
How can these be true loves of mine?

If they say they can't, then I will reply,
Botley Road, Hythe Bridge Street and Thames,
Let us all think that at least they will try,
For then they might be true loves of Thine.

Learning imposes impossible tasks,
Botley Road, Hythe Bridge Street and Thames,
Though not more than a learnèd heart asks,
One which knows the true love of Thine.

Oxbridge, its time to embark on thy task,
Botley Road, Hythe Bridge Street and Thames,
First stop your book-trading's all that I ask,
For then might you be true loves of mine.

After the first batch of Remedies was printed I learnt of a strange circumstance I shall now add, a three-way coincidence that may give pause to even the most resolutely unsuperstitious of readers. Firstly it turns out that Henry Hardy left OUP on the very day - 19th October 1990 - of Oxford's 'apology' in my case, possibly their single most decisive blunder. And secondly 19th October turns out to be Frideswide's Day, which commemorates the university's seventh-century patron saint and reputed abbess-founder.

The story goes that Frideswide was born to a pious King of Mercia, who when she came of age built a church and convent for her at the gates of Oxford. The hand of the chaste and beautiful abbess was then long sought by a Prince Aelfgar, who, repeatedly rebuffed, plotted her kidnapping. Frideswide learnt of his plan and fled to the nearby village of Bampton, where she hid in a pigsty for three years. When she returned to Oxford, the ardent Aelfgar besieged and threatened to raze the town unless she was yielded to him, but as he entered its gates, he was blinded by a lightning flash and promptly deserted by his panicking men. The merciful Frideswide then miraculously restored Aelfgar's sight in return for his repentance, but for centuries afterwards no English king dared to enter Oxford. In 735 Frideswide was buried in her convent, which later became the site of Christ Church Cathedral, one of whose present-day windows depicts her life. The 19th of October was the day of her death.