Old Air

Nicole Fielder ('19)

The air feels old in England. In St. Bartholomew’s Church in London, it feels particularly old. Not a mothy, musty old like I imagine the Wardrobe in C.S. Lewis’ The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe does, but an electrified chill that hangs in the air. St. Bartholomew’s Church was built in the 12th century—older than anything I could encounter back home. It has witnessed over 900 years of history as patrons came to pray for present relief and future hope in its hallowed halls.

If you look down, you’ll see that the Church continues to offer rest to its members because so many of them are buried underneath the tile. Many inscriptions and commemorative sculptures on the walls prompt visitors with an admonition: “As I am, you too shall be.” This message didn’t feel intended for me until I came across a person’s stone that shared my surname. That Fielder stone was simple. It did not boast a noble birth. It was at the back of the church, where the commoners lie.

Inside St. Bartholomew's Church in London

I’ve wrestled with the concept of Nobility throughout the trip. The rich nobles were the ones who could afford to build the lavish memorials that could stand the test of time and contribute to the great sense of gravity—that Old Air—that imbued every site I visited. That heavy significance made me feel so small in the vast expanse of history.

A line from Les Misérables resonated as I listened to it. The characters are gearing up for a revolution, and they sing, “Our little lives don’t count at all.” This trip made me feel that way, but they were using that feeling to do something with their little lives. They were committing themselves to martyrdom. In Oxford, we saw the Martyrs’ Memorial from the English Reformation in the middle of the city. The monument was not for their noble birth, but for their noble death.

Even though we don’t have Kings or Lords in the US, there is still a nobility worth striving for: Nobility of Character, or Virtue, as expressed by those martyrs or by many of the authors that the McConnell Center has shared with me, like Marcus Aurelius, Cicero, and C.S. Lewis. Lewis himself had a modest grave. He shared it with his brother, and the only epitaph read, “Men must endure their going hence.”

After this tour of England, I honestly feel like I have a slightly better understanding of this world that will help me endure my going hence. Someday, the air I’m breathing will be Old Air, and this trip was a much-needed reminder that I should try to fill it with life and truth while I can.

Nicole Fielder, of Wilmore, Ky., is a member of the McConnell Scholar Class of 2019. She is studying political science and economics at the University of Louisville.