The City Churches
In the pageant of London no objects are more numerous and conspicuous than the churches which greet us at every step. In spite of the large number which have disappeared, there are very many left. There they stand in the centre of important thoroughfares, in obscure courts and alleys—here surrounded by high towering warehouses; there maintaining proud positions, defying the attacks of worldly business and affairs. A whole volume would be required to do justice to the city churches, and we can only glance at some of the most striking examples.
The Great Fire played havoc with the ancient structures, and involved in its relentless course many a beautiful and historic church. But some few of them are left to us. We have already seen St. Bartholomew's, Smithfield, and glanced at the church of St. Helen, Bishopsgate, and old St Paul's. Wren's St. Paul's Cathedral has so often been described that it is not necessary to tell again the story of its building.[11] "Destroyed by the Great Fire, rebuilt by Wren," is the story of most of the city churches; but there were some few which escaped. At the east end of Great Tower Street stands All Hallows Barking, so called from having belonged to the abbey of Barking, Essex. This narrowly escaped the fire, which burned the dial, and porch, and vicarage house. Its style is mainly Perpendicular, with a Decorated east window, and has some good brasses. St. Andrew's Undershaft, Leadenhall Street, opposite to which the May-pole was annually raised until "Evil May-day" put an end to the merry-makings, was rebuilt in 1520-32, and contains some mural paintings, much stained glass, and many brasses and monuments, including that of John Stow, the famous London antiquary. St. Catherine Cree, in the same street, was rebuilt in 1629, and consecrated by Laud. St. Dunstan's-in-the-East was nearly destroyed, and restored by Wren, the present nave being rebuilt in 1817. St. Dunstan's, Stepney, preserves its fifteenth century fabric, and St. Ethelburga's, Bishopsgate, retains some of its Early English masonry, and St. Ethelreda's, Ely Place, is the only surviving portion of the ancient palace of the Bishops of Ely. St. Giles', Cripplegate, stands near the site of a Saxon church built in 1090 by Alfun, the first hospitaller of the Priory of St. Bartholomew. Suffering from a grievous fire in 1545, it was partially rebuilt, and in 1682 the tower was raised fifteen feet. Many illustrious men were buried here, including John Fox, John Speed, the historian, John Milton and his father, several actors of the Fortune Theatre, and Sir Martin Frobisher. In 1861 the church was restored in memory of Milton, and a monument raised to him. This church saw the nuptials of Oliver Cromwell and Elizabeth Bowchier in 1620. All Hallows Staining, Mark Lane, escaped the fire, and its tower and west end are ancient. St. James', Aldgate, was built in 1622, and escaped the fire, which might have spared more important edifices; and St. Olave's, Hart Street, a building which shows Norman, Early English, Decorated, and Perpendicular work, was happily preserved. This is sometimes called Pepys's church, since he often mentions it in his diary, and lies buried here. There are other interesting monuments, and in the churchyard lie some of the victims of the Great Plague. St. Sepulchre's, near Newgate, was damaged by the fire, and refitted by Wren, but the main building is fifteenth century work. Several churches escaped the Great Fire, but were subsequently pulled down and rebuilt. Amongst these are St. Alphege, London Wall; St. Botolph-without, Aldersgate; St. Botolph's, St. Martin's Outwich. St. Mary Woolnoth was also damaged by the fire, and repaired by Wren. It stands on the site of an early church, which was rebuilt in the fifteenth century; but the greater part of the present church was built by Hawksmoor in 1716.
A strange, weird, desolate city met the eyes of the people of London when the Great Fire had died away. No words can describe that scene of appalling ruin and desolation. But, with the energy for which Englishmen are remarkable, they at once set to work to restore their loss, and a master-mind was discovered who could grapple with the difficulty and bring order out of chaos. This wonderful genius was Sir Christopher Wren. He devised a grand scheme for the rebuilding of the city. Evelyn planned another. But property owners were tenacious of their rights, and clung to their own parcels of ground; so these great schemes came to nothing. However, to Wren fell the task of rebuilding the fallen churches, and no less than fifty-two were entrusted to his care. He had no one to guide him; no school of artists or craftsmen to help him in the detail of his buildings; no great principles of architecture to direct him. Gothic architecture was dead, if we except the afterglow that shone in Oxford. He might have followed his great predecessor, Inigo Jones, and produced works after an Italian model. But he was no copyist. Taking the classic orders as his basis, he devised a style of his own, suitable for the requirements of the time and climate, and for the form of worship and religious usages of the Anglican Church. "It is enough for Romanists to hear the murmur of the mass, and see the elevation of the Host; but our churches are to be fitted for auditories," he once said.
Of the churches built by Wren, eighteen beautiful buildings have already been destroyed. St. Christopher-le-Stocks is swallowed up by the Bank of England; St. Michael, Crooked Lane, disappeared in 1841, when approaches were made to New London Bridge; St. Bartholomew-by-the-Exchange made way for the Sun Fire Office; and St. Benet Fink was pulled down because of its nearness to the Royal Exchange. Since the passing of the Union of City Benefices Act in 1860, fourteen churches designed by Wren have succumbed, and attacks on others have been with difficulty warded off.[12]
The characteristics of Wren's genius were his versatility, imagination, and originality. We will notice some of the results of these qualities of mind. The tower hardly ever enters into the architectural treatment of the interior. It is used as an entrance lobby or vestry. His simplest plan was a plain oblong, without columns or recesses, such as St. Mildred's, Bread Street, or St. Nicholas', Cole Abbey. St. Margaret, Lothbury, St. Vedast, St. Clement, Eastcheap, have this simple form, with the addition of an aisle or a recess. His next plan consists of the central nave and two aisles, with or without clerestory windows; of this St. Andrew Wardrobe and St. Magnus the Martyr furnish good examples. The third plan is the domed church, such as St. Swithun and St. Mary Abchurch. The merits and architectural beauties of Wren's churches have been recently described in an able lecture delivered by Mr. Arthur Keen before the Architectural Association, a lecture which we should like to see expanded to the size of a book, and enriched with copious drawings. It would be of immense service in directing the minds of the citizens of London to the architectural treasures of which they are the heirs.
The churches are remarkable for their beautifully carved woodwork, often executed or designed by Grinling Gibbons or his pupils. Pews, pulpits, with elaborate sounding boards, organ cases, altar pieces, were all elaborately carved, and a gallery usually was placed at the west end. Paintings by Sir James Thornhill and other artists adorn his churches, and the art of Strong the master mason, Jennings the carpenter, and Tijou the metal worker, all combined to beautify his structures.
Within the limits of our space it is only possible to glance at the interiors of a few of these churches, and note some of the treasures therein contained. St. Andrew's, Holborn, has its original fifteenth century tower, recarved in 1704. It is known as the "Poet's Church," on account of the singers connected with it, including a contemporary of Shakespeare, John Webster, Robert Savage, Chatterton, and Henry Neele, and can boast of such illustrious rectors as Bishops Hacket and Stillingfleet, and Dr. Sacheverel. The spire of Christ Church, Spitalfields, built by Hawksmoor, is the loftiest in London, and has a fine peal of bells. In the church there is an early work of Flaxman—the monument of Sir Robert Ladbrooke, Lord Mayor. The name of St. Clement Danes reminds us of the connection of the sea-rovers with London. Strype says that the church was so named "because Harold, a Danish King, and other Danes, were buried there, and in that churchyard." He tells how this Harold, an illegitimate son of Canute, reigned three years, and was buried at Westminster; but, afterwards, Hardicanute, the lawful son of Canute, in revenge for the injury done to his mother and brother, ordered the body to be dug up and thrown into the Thames, where it was found by a fisherman and buried in this churchyard. There seems to be no doubt that there was a colony of peaceful Danes in this neighbourhood, as testified by the Danish word "Wych" given to a street hard by, and preserved in the modern Aldwych. It was the oldest suburb of London, the village of Ældwic, and called Aldewych. Oldwych close was in existence in the time of the Stuarts. These people were allowed to reside between the Isle of Thorney, or Westminster, and Ludgate, and, having become Christians, they built a church for themselves, which was called Ecclesia Clementis Danorum.
There is a wild story of the massacre of the Danes in this church in the days of Ethelred, as recorded in Strype's Continuation of Stow, and in the Jomsvikinga Saga. As Mr. Loftie has not found space in Saxon London to mention this colony of Danes and their doings, I venture to quote a passage from Mr. Lethaby's Pre-Conquest London, which contains some interesting allusions to these people:
"We are told that Sweyn made warfare in the land of King Ethelred, and drove him out of the land; he put Thingumannalid in two places. The one in Lundunaborg (London) was ruled by Eilif Thorgilsson, who had sixty ships in the Temps (Thames); the other was north in Sleswik. The Thingamen made a law that no one should stay away a whole night. They gathered at the Bura Church every night when a large bell was rung, but without weapons. He who had command in the town (London) was Ædric Streona. Ulfkel Snilling ruled over the northern part of England (East Anglia). The power of the Thingamen was great. There was a fair there (in London) twice every twelve month, one about midsummer and the other about midwinter. The English thought it would be the easiest to slay the Thingamen while Cnut was young (he was ten winters old) and Sweyn dead. About Yule, waggons went into the town to the market, and they were all tented over by the treacherous advice of Ulfkel Snelling and Ethelred's sons. Thord, a man of the Thingumannalid, went out of the town to the house of his mistress, who asked him to stay, because the death was planned of all the Thingamen by Englishmen concealed in the waggons, when the Danes would go unarmed to the church. Thord went into the town and told it to Eilif. They heard the bell ringing, and when they came to the churchyard there was a great crowd who attacked them. Eilif escaped with three ships and went to Denmark. Some time after, Edmund was made King. After three winters, Cnut, Thorkel and Eric went with eight hundred ships to England. Thorkel had thirty ships, and slew Ulfkel Snilling, and married Ulfhild, his wife, daughter of King Ethelred. With Ulfkel was slain every man on sixty ships, and Cnut took Lundunaborg."
Matthew, of Westminster, also records this massacre of the Danes, and other authorities consider that the account in the Saga is founded on fact. However that may be, the Danes undoubtedly had a colony here of their traders, merchants, and seamen, and dedicated their church to their favourite saint, St. Clement, the patron of mariners, whose constant emblem is an anchor. Nor was this the only location of the Northmen. Southwark was their fortified trading place, where they had a church dedicated to St. Olaf, the patron saint of Norway. His name remains in Tooley Street, not a very evident but certainly true derivative of St. Olaf's Street. There are three churches dedicated to St. Olave, who was none other than St. Olaf. St. Magnus, too, tells of the Northmen, who was one of their favourite saints. Going back to the church of St. Clement Danes, we notice that it was rebuilt in 1682 under the advice of Wren, the tower and steeple being added forty years later. Dr. Johnson used to attend here, and a pillar near his seat bears the inscription:
"In this pew and beside this pillar, for many years attended Divine Service, the celebrated Dr. Johnson, the philosopher, the poet, the great lexicographer, the profound moralist, and chief writer of his time. Born 1709, died 1794. In remembrance and honour of noble faculties, nobly employed, some inhabitants of the parish of St. Clement Danes have placed this slight memorial, A.D. 1851."
One of the most important city churches is St. Mary-le-Bow, Cheapside. It is one of Wren's finest works; but the old church, destroyed by the Great Fire, had a notable history, being one of the earliest Norman buildings in the country. Stow says it was named St. Mary de Arcubus from its being built on arches of stone, these arches forming a crypt, which still exists. The tower was a place of sanctuary, but not a very effectual one, as Longbeard, a ringleader of a riot, was forced out of his refuge by fire in 1190, and Ducket, a goldsmith, was murdered. The Bow bells are famous, and one of them was rung nightly for the closing of shops. Everyone knows the protesting rhyme of the 'prentices of the Cheap when the clerk rang the bell late, and the reassuring reply of that officer, who probably feared the blows of their staves. Lanterns hung in the arches of the spire as beacons for travellers. The bells of Bow are said to have recalled Dick Whittington, and those who have always lived in the district where their sound can be heard are deemed very ignorant folk by their country cousins. Whittington's church was St. Michael's Paternoster Royal, Thames Street, which he rebuilt, and wherein he was buried, though his body has been twice disturbed. The church was destroyed by the Great Fire, and rebuilt by Wren.
It is impossible for us to visit all the churches, each of which possesses some feature of interest, some historical association. They impart much beauty to every view of the city, and not one of them can be spared. Sometimes, in this utilitarian age, wise men tell us that we should pull down many of these ancient buildings, sell the valuable sites, and build other churches in the suburbs, where they would be more useful. Eighteen of Wren's churches have been thus destroyed, besides several of later date. The city merchants of old built their churches, and made great sacrifices in doing so, for the honour of God and the good of their fellow-men, and it is not for their descendants to pull them down. If suburban people want churches, they should imitate the example of their forefathers, and make sacrifices in order to build them. Streets, old palaces, interesting houses, are fast vanishing; the churches—at least, some of them—remain to tell the story of the ancient civic life, to point the way to higher things amid the bustling scenes of mercantile activity and commercial unrest. The readers of these Memorials will wish "strength i' th' arme" to the City Churches Preservation Society to do battle for these historic landmarks of ancient London.