The General Elliott (Greene King)
Duncan Parkes writes:
There was a recent attempt to get things together and reopen it, but
that's currently fallen through. We live in hope.
Pont Lurcock writes:
Has changed hands yet again, and I haven't been in yet to see the
effects. Now seems to be in the hands of New Wood Inns, which---
judging by their handling of the Gardener's Arms---is probably a
This place changed hands again in the summer of 2003, and seems none
the worse for it. There is still Aunt Sally and there are still
barbecues. There is also a bouncy castle in the summer, which can
make things rather loud on a sunny weekend.
Inside, there are two smallish rooms and an alcove containing a pool
table. There is music, but at a bearable volume. There is a
television, but it is small and easy to ignore. The beer has been in
good shape on both my recent visits, and the Morlands is pleasant for
the sake of variety, if unremarkable in itself.
Fringe benefits: dartboard; two trophy cabinets, one containing
pleasant carved wooden artefacts, the other trophies; a pot-plant in
the gents. The decor is typically pubbish (framed Cadbury's adverts)
without straying into tat (no ornamental horse-brasses). The
atmosphere is relaxed and the staff are friendly.
I ought also to mention the things I found stacked against the wall:
they were felt-covered boards the size of the table-tops. Some of them
were inset with brazen cribbage boards. For this reason alone, I would
go there again.
Colin Batchelor Writes:
Home of the Oxford & District Sea Angling Club, there's generally a big
board with a list of sea fishing records on the wall, and two pitches for
Aunt Sally in the garden out the front. In winter, it's difficult to see
the garden because of the floodlight illuminating the car park and washing
that end of town in a lurid amber. You can see this floodlight from
Hinksey Park. They have barbecues in the garden on Sunday lunchtimes in
The management has changed at least twice in the exactly one year since I
was here last, so the animals have gone. They used to be like this:
Three cats - Domino, the largest and black and white one, Murphy, who's
smaller, grey, and with a coat worthy of Michael Heseltine, and Pepsi,
who's tiny and I haven't seen yet.
There is also a border collie-type dog of monumental stupidity.
However the surly buggers behind the bar that Owen complained about at
Christmas have gone, which is good. Unfortunately, the mediocre poem
written by Robert Graves about the General has been replaced by a big
mirror. In fact, there has been a fair amount of subtle renovation so that
the pub looks much the same but doesn't have quite the same shabby air to
it, which is a shame.
The fruit machine has been updated so that it takes new ten pence pieces
since autumn 1997. I suppose the greatest attraction from the point of
view of a resident of Oxford is the scenic walk over Jacob's Ladder and
the Devil's Backbone to get to the village. A surprisingly worthwhile pub.