He next examined the beautiful spire, well known as a landmark to sailors in the channel, sister spire to that most perfect one at Salisbury which he has preserved to this day. He adopted a different plan with the Chichester spire to that which he had formerly pursued, for he took down the top of the spire, and fastened to the finial within an immense pendulum of yellow fir wood, which in great gales preserved exactly the balance of the spire. This lasted till 1813, when the pendulum was repaired by Mr. Elmes, and so remained until, after a great gale in 1861, the spire fell in; it has since been rebuilt, and is now rather higher than it was formerly. The other part of Wren’s scheme was not acted upon. At this time he built Fawley Court in Oxfordshire: the place had lain in ruins since the civil war, when it suffered, though the property of Sir Bulstrode Whitelock, even more from Cromwell’s troops than from those of Prince Rupert. Sir Bulstrode’s descendants sold the property to Mr. William Freeman, who pulled the ruins down and got Sir Christopher to build the present Court, with its four fronts, handsome hall, and characteristic festoons of flowers in the ceiling.
In this same year Wren was made Controller of the Works, for which he received a salary of 9l. 2s. 6d. a year; not a very magnificent sum considering that a good deal of petty work and cares went with the office. It was necessary to see that this person had not incroached on the castle stables, or that person on the castle ditch; to measure and plan, and settle little quarrels and disputes in a way infinitely tormenting, one would think, to a man who had already such enormous works to consider. But Wren’s genius was a patient one, and had a great grasp of details; he dealt with point after point as it arose, and no one seems ever to have complained of his breaking an engagement or neglecting to settle their difficulties.
While this work was going on all London was startled by the tidings of Charles II.’s sudden illness and death, when all the luxury of the Court was at its height. With all his grave faults, the King’s death caused considerable grief throughout England; to both Wren and Evelyn he had been always kind and friendly, and both looked with great anxiety to the reign of his successor.
The Royal Society certainly lost a steady friend in Charles II. and was soon to see its court favour fade away. It was, however, much occupied with a discussion between Newton and Robert Hooke concerning the planetary motions. The question was one which deeply interested Wren, and which hitherto he had not been able to answer. As he and Hooke were walking together—Wren, whom one can never imagine but with all the courtesy and refinement of a finished gentleman, and Hooke half a miser, utterly slovenly, and jealous of any rising fame—they were met by Dr. Halley, an astronomer of some note even then, who was struggling with this problem and confessed that he had hitherto failed.
Wren promised a book worth forty shillings to whoever should solve the problem, whereupon Hooke declared he understood it from Kepler’s ‘Law of Periods and Distances,’ and would show his solution some day to Wren; this he never did, and very soon Newton published his ‘Principia,’[191] in which he solved this problem, acknowledging freely that Wren and Halley had independently deduced the law of gravity from Kepler’s second law. He had a great quarrel with Hooke, the less to be wondered at, as, excepting Sir Christopher, Hooke quarrelled with everybody and was a philosopher of the sourest type. In 1685 Sir Christopher was returned to Parliament for the borough of Plympton S. Maurice, in Devonshire, a Parliament in which his cousin Charles also sat. The elections in Devonshire are supposed to have been specially influenced by the Court.
The ‘Parentalia’ gives no hint even of what his politics were, whether he spoke often or how he voted. And yet it was a stormy time. The Parliament had not sat a month before Monmouth’s brief rebellion began, to be bloodily quenched; public feeling was in a state of irritation and suspense, no one feeling sure what King James might not do. He did continue Wren unmolested in the S. Paul’s commission, and the progress of the building was steady, though probably its architect thought with no light anxiety that it might be used for services other than those for which it was designed.
The same doubt may have clouded his satisfaction in the many churches which were finished in this and the immediately following years. S. Martin’s on Ludgate Hill, closely wedged in by the neighbouring houses, with its little tapering spire, of which that of S. James’s, Westminster, appears a caricature, should have had its place among the churches of the previous year. It harmonizes beautifully with the great dome of S. Paul’s. Sir Christopher bestowed on the inside much of the ornament, the festoons and the carving, which its situation did not allow him to bestow on the outside; in those days it had daily services and may well have stood open, offering ‘a shadow from the heat’ to the incessant passers-by.
S. Alban’s, Wood Street, is in the pointed style of architecture in which Wren’s genius generally felt fettered, though, as in the case of S. Michael’s, Cornhill, he sometimes dealt very successfully with it.
‘AN ALTAR-PIECE.’
S. Mary Magdalene’s, Fish Street,[192] is more after Wren’s usual manner, with its good proportions, its highly ornamented round-headed windows, its stone balustrade and solid square stone tower, with the little steeple rising from it on seven steps. Within, carving in ‘right oak’ was bestowed with no sparing hand, especially in the altar-piece. And here one may say that, while defects in church arrangement, such as galleries, pews, and the like, are invariably laid on Sir Christopher and said to be the inevitable concomitants of his style, it should be borne in mind that in many and many an instance the churchwardens during the eighteenth century repewed and ‘beautified’ the churches which Wren had left as completed; in what style, and on what principle one can readily guess. It should be remembered also that an ‘altar-piece,’ as the old books call it, was an invariable part of his design. If there was rich carving, if there was black and white marble, he placed it there; the altar was the principal part of the church in his eyes, even though he did not often avail himself of the dignity given by a flight of steps. The close altar rails which are now not admired, were, it must be remembered, ordered by Archbishop Laud to protect the Holy Table from profanation, and were always so placed by Wren.