[106] Registrum Statutorum, Appendix i.
[107] Longman, p. 112.
[108] Further information may be found in The Journal of the Society of Arts, June 21, 1895 (Sir W. Richmond); Magazine of Art, Nov., 1897 (Alfred Lys Baldry); Sunday Magazine, Jan. and Feb., 1898 (Canon Newbolt, who mentions "A Small Lecture on Mosaic," by Sir W. Richmond, given at the "Arts and Crafts").
CHAPTER VII[ToC]
CONCLUSION (1710-1897)
Wren's great friend and supporter on the Commission, John Evelyn, was long since dead; and in 1718, thanks to an intrigue, the Surveyor was dismissed in favour of an incompetent successor, chiefly famous for figuring in the Dunciad. Fortunately, says his grandson, "He was happily endued with such an Evenness of Temper, a steady Tranquillity of Mind, and Christian Fortitude, that no injurious Incidents or Inquietudes of human life, could ever ruffle or discompose." He continued for a time superintending at the Abbey, but soon took a house from the Crown at Hampton, where he could look upon another of his innumerable designs, and from time to time came up to see his cathedral, and, as the story goes, was wont to sit under the dome. Thanks to the regularity and temperance of his habits, for he profited by his medical studies, and his happy disposition, he lived five years longer, occupying his leisure with a variety of mathematical and scientific studies, and above all "in the Consolation of the Holy Scriptures: cheerful in Solitude, and as well pleased to die in the Shade as in the Light." A visit to London brought on a cold he failed to shake off. He was accustomed to take a nap after dinner; and on February 25, 1723, his servant, thinking he had slept long enough, entered the room. The good old man had passed quietly to his well-earned rest. His wife had long pre-deceased him. Steele declared that Wren was absolutely incapable of trumpeting his own fame, "which has as fatal an effect upon men's reputations as poverty; for as it was said—'the poor man saved the city, and the poor man's labour was forgot'; so here we find the modest man built the city, and the modest man's skill was unknown."[109] But Wren did not build only for the Commission who dismissed him, but for posterity; and posterity more impartial will yet pronounce that he belongs to the great men of two centuries ago, and accord him a place beside Marlborough and Addison and Newton.
About this time Parliament vested the fabric in three trustees—the Primate, the Bishop, and the Lord Mayor. With them rests the appointment of the surveyor, the examination and audit of his accounts, and in general the charge and maintenance of the cathedral.[110] This trust is unique, and has its origin in the large sums provided from taxation, whereas the other cathedrals were raised by voluntary offerings. The eighteenth century does not call for more than a passing notice. Wren's intentions continued to be delayed or frustrated in at least four important respects. The high railings shut out any complete view of the exterior: the dome area, isolated from the choir by the organ, was not used for the very purpose it was designed: the interior lacked mosaics: no monuments to the great dead filled the recesses ready for them. Reynolds headed a body of artists anxious to execute a scheme of adornment not in accordance with the architect's views, and was defeated by Bishop Terrick on grounds other than æsthetic. George III. gave thanks in 1789 for his recovery, and again eight years later for naval victories. On this latter occasion Nelson attended as one of the representatives of the Fleet; and as his one remaining eye rested on the Howard monument, did he think that the time was near at hand when he would be brought there, and when another monument would be erected to himself? For at last the cathedral was being put to its intended use; and the first memorial was accorded to a self-sacrificing philanthropist, who was not even a member of the Anglican communion. Another eight years, and amidst all that was high and distinguished, under the very centre of the dome, Dean Pretyman-Tomline, Bishop of Lincoln, committed to the ground the maimed body of the greatest of our sea captains. "As a youth," says Dean Milman, "I was present, and remember the solemn effect of the sinking of the coffin. I heard, or fancied that I heard, the low wail of the sailors who bore and encircled the remains of their admiral."[111] During the short peace before the return from Elba Wellington carried the sword of state before the Regent at the Thanksgiving service (July 9, 1814), and Dean Milman was called upon to officiate at the funeral of Wellington (November 18, 1852), which the Prince Consort attended, when the length of the procession may be estimated from Henry Greville's statement that it took one and three-quarter hours to pass Devonshire House.