ST. STEPHEN’S, WALBROOK.
As we stand by the Mansion House we see beside us an elegant-looking church of Italian pattern, and situated picturesquely at the corner of two streets. We enter, and find ourselves in a beautifully proportioned square chamber, richly decorated with cornices, pilasters, and oak carvings. The rector and churchwardens claim, indeed, that it is “the most striking and original in the metropolis, and without a prototype in England.” So beautiful did it appear to the French architect, Servandoni, that when planning his famous church of St. Sulpice, in Paris, he reproduced in facsimile this façade. It will be noted that it is of a curious kind—a sort of double tower—and has impressed many with the admiration which its enthusiastic rector and churchwardens feel for it.[23]
ST. MARY WOOLNOTH.
This really original church has been described as “an exquisite example of the Italian style. The interior is no more than a gracefully designed chamber, after the pattern of the Roman atrium, with twelve coupled and richly-decorated columns running round.” “It is impossible,” says an enthusiast, “to leave the description of this delightful interior without noticing the galleries; they are so designed that, though prominent, they do not interfere with the general effect, nor destroy the simplicity and elegance of the design.” As we have said, the variety exhibited in Wren’s churches is always extraordinary. Nothing can be more original and graceful than the interior of St. Swithin’s, opposite the station in Cannon Street, with its elegant cupola painted by Sir J. Thornhill. The most charming exterior in its unpretending way, from its just proportions, is that of the church on Ludgate Hill. It will be noted how delicate and yet efficient are the mouldings and ornaments, and the perfect grace of the spire—so airy, and yet so exactly suited to the plain building below.
It may be added here that there are some curious and interesting things to be seen in a pilgrimage round the London churches. As in the grim All-hallows Barking, there is the font, elaborately carved with grotesque figures by Grinling Gibbons, and in St. Alban’s church, Wood Street, on a pillar over the pulpit, an hour-glass in a brass frame—no bad hint for preachers de longue haleine. Under Bow Church, in busy Cheapside, we may see the genuine old Norman arches and vaultings; few know that a court used to have its sittings here, and hence took the name of the Court of Arches.
Perhaps the most singular and eccentric specimen of a steeple to be found in London is that of St. Luke’s, near Clerkenwell. This is an enormous, ponderous obelisk, some thirty or forty feet high, with its plinth and steps, perched on the top of a heavy tower. There are also other freaks in this direction which excite our astonishment.
There is a stately old church—the work of Hawkesmoor—in Hart Street, close to the British Museum. It is well grimed and blackened over, but there is something imposing in its Pantheon-like portico, and above all its extraordinary, and possibly unique, steeple. This is of a very daring and original pattern, and consists of a pillared lantern, on which rises a sort of heavy, massive stone pyramid that ascends in graduated steps. Carried to a great height, it terminates in a circular pedestal, with a garland running round it, and on the pedestal is—what? The reader is little likely to guess. A gigantic statue in Roman guise of His Majesty George I.! There is something quaint and exceptional in this form of steeple. And yet, so judicious and effective is the architecture of the whole, so impressive, that there is really nothing grotesque in the result. During a short interval lately the adjoining houses were levelled and the whole of the church exposed to view, with excellent effect. Many who have never noticed it before have been struck by its originality and dignified air. But now the builders are erecting hoardings, so this glimpse will have been but a temporary one, and by-and-by the church will be shut out once more.