Before we begin our tour of the Cathedral let us take a little note of our surroundings.
“In olden times St. Paul’s Churchyard was one of the great business centres of London. About the church men met to discuss the doings of the day, the last piece of news from Flanders, France or Spain, or the rumours from the country. Here the citizens gathered angrily when there was any talk of an invasion of their cherished liberties, grumbled over the benevolence demanded by his Majesty for the pay of the troops engaged in the French war, or jeered at some poor wretch nailed by his ears in the pillory. Here the heralds would proclaim the news of our victories by sea and land; here the public newsmen would read out their budgets; vendors of infallible nostrums would wax eloquent as to the virtues of their wares; and the wives and daughters of the citizens would gather to gossip and flirt. It was at once the exchange, the club, and the meeting-place of London. Paul’s Cross was the heart of the City; here men threw up their bonnets when they heard of Crécy and of Agincourt; here they listened to the preachings of the first followers of Wycliffe; here they erected their choicest pageants when a new sovereign visited the City for the first time, or brought his new-made spouse to show her to his lieges; and gathered with frowning brows beneath iron caps when London threw in its lot with the Parliament, and the train bands marched off to fight the King’s forces. The business mart of the City lies now in front of the Mansion House, but a great deal of business is still done under the shadow of the Cathedral.”—(C. D.)
All the streets bear names that remind us of the vicinity of St. Paul’s—Creed Lane, Ave Maria Lane, Sermon Lane, Canon Alley, Amen Corner and Paternoster Row known throughout the world as the headquarters of the book trade and publishers, while Cheapside, Ludgate Hill, Fleet Street and St. Paul’s Churchyard swarm with ghosts and memories of London’s stirring events.
“The modern passenger through St. Paul’s Churchyard has not only the last home of Nelson and others to venerate as he goes by. In the ground of the old church were buried, and here therefore remains whatever dust may survive them, the gallant Sir Philip Sidney (the beau idéal of the age of Elizabeth), and Vandyke, who immortalised the youth and beauty of the court of Charles the First. One of Elizabeth’s great statesmen also lay there—Walsingham—who died so poor that he was buried by stealth to prevent his body from being arrested. Another, Sir Christopher Hatton, who is supposed to have danced himself into the office of Her Majesty’s Chancellor, had a tomb which his contemporaries thought too magnificent, and which was accused of ‘shouldering the altar.’
“Old St. Paul’s was much larger than now, and the Churchyard was of proportionate dimensions. The wall by which it was bounded ran along by the present streets of Ave Maria Lane, Paternoster Row, Old Change, Carter Lane and Creed Lane; and therefore included a large space and many buildings which are not now considered to be within the precincts of the Cathedral. This spacious area had grass inside, and contained a variety of appendages to the establishment. One of these was the cross of which Stow did not know the antiquity. It was called Paul’s Cross, and stood on the north side of the church, a little to the east of the entrance of Cannon Alley.”—(L. H.)
At first the space around it was used for the meeting of the populace—the Folkmote—when their magistrates were elected, public affairs discussed and criminals tried and sentenced. At a later period Paul’s Cross was chiefly used for proclamations, and from the pulpit, which in Stow’s time was an hexagonal piece of wood “covered with lead, elevated upon a flight of stone steps and surmounted by a large cross,” sermons were preached.
In 1879 the foundations of Paul’s Cross were discovered on the north-east side of the present Choir. A monument is now being erected on the spot.
If we wish to examine the north and south fronts more particularly we first go to the former and
“We note the two-storied constructions, the graceful Corinthian pillars, arranged in pairs, with round-headed windows between them; the entablature; and then, in the second story, another row of beautiful pilasters of the Composite order. Between these are niches where one would have expected windows; but this story is simply a screen to hide the flying-buttresses supporting the clerestory, as Wren thought them a disfigurement. The walls are finished with a cornice, which Wren was compelled by hostile critics to add, much against his own judgment. There are some excellently carved festoons of foliage and birds and cherubs, which are well worthy of close observation. The North and South Fronts have Corinthian pillars, which support a semicircular entablature. Figures of the Apostles adorn the triangular-shaped heads and balustrade. The Royal Arms appear on the north side, and a Phœnix is the suitable ornament on the south, signifying the resurrection of the building from its ashes. The south side is almost similar to the north. The east end has an apse.”—(P. H. D.)
On the south-west is the Dean’s yard, leading past the Deanery to the Choir House in Great Carter Lane where the choir-boys are trained. Doctors’ Commons, where marriage licenses used to be issued, only survives in name.