Over two metres high. Topped with iron spikes. That’s how the Cutteslowe Walls stood. Dividing Oxford’s community for years.
Cutteslowe. A name whispered in hushed tones. A reminder of a divisive chapter in Oxford’s history. These walls weren’t just bricks and mortar. They were a symbol of class division. A physical manifestation of snobbery.
In 1934 they rose. Separating a council estate from private properties. Clive Saxton built the wall. He was worried his houses wouldn’t sell. He feared the proximity of “slum dwellers”. The wall was his bizarre solution.
Protests erupted. Abe Lazarus led the charge. He organised attempts to demolish the hateful barrier. Police stopped him. The city council eventually destroyed the walls. They were sued and forced to rebuild.
During World War II a tank tore down a section. It was a wrong turn. The War Office paid for the repairs. The walls survived numerous attempts at demolition. They were a stubborn symbol of inequality.
Finally in 1959 the walls fell. Edmund Gibbs struck the first blow. He was the son of a campaigner. Many witnessed the demolition. It was a momentous occasion.
Today a blue plaque marks the spot. It’s a reminder of the past. A reminder of the damaging snobbery. A part of the wall’s metal spikes sits in the Museum of Oxford. A chilling artifact. A testament to a time when walls divided a community. Cutteslowe’s story reminds us that even in Oxford prejudice existed. And sometimes it needed more than a tank to tear it down.