Picturesque Sketches of London, Past and Present

by Thomas Miller

Glancing at the remote past, it was in St. Giles’s where the criminal stopped in ancient times, and drank his last draught of ale on his way to Tyburn tree; and about the time when Chaucer died, the gallows was removed from Smithfield into this parish, probably because here it was more frequently needed. In the reign of Charles II. an attempt was made to improve this neighbourhood by a better class of houses, and for years some of the streets wore a look of respectability; then a change took place, and the old primeval dirt and darkness settled down again. Our modern improvers have commenced by rooting out the inhabitants; may we not expect a new St. Giles’s to rise up in some other corner of this vast metropolis?

The following description of the Church of St. Giles’s is quoted from Vol. V. of the Illustrated London News:

“Many a reader may start at the adjunct of ‘in the fields,’ to the dedicatory name of this metropolitan church; and the surprise is natural enough when we recollect that the structure is situated on the south side of the High-street, St. Giles’s, which probably was one of the narrowest roadways in this overgrown city. The name of the church receives its addition from the circumstance of being formerly in the fields, and to distinguish it from the Church of St. Giles’s, Cripplegate. This parish was anciently a village of the same name, and its church is supposed to owe its origin to the chapel which belonged to the hospital founded about 1117, by Queen Matilda, consort of Henry I., for the reception of leprous persons belonging to the City of London and the county of Middlesex. In 1354, Edward III. granted this hospital to the master and brethren of the order of Burton, St. Lazar, of Jerusalem, in Leicestershire, for certain considerations, for which it became a cell to that order, till the general dissolution of religious houses by Henry VIII., who, in 1545, granted it to Lord Dudley. Soon after this period, the chapel or church was made parochial; and on the 20th of April, 1547, William Rawlinson was instituted rector.

“The ancient church being very small, and much dilapidated, was taken down in 1623, and a church of brick was erected in its stead. This also became in its turn too small and inconvenient, when the inhabitants applied for an Act of Parliament to enable them to rebuild it; accordingly, the old fabric was taken down in 1730, and the present very handsome edifice was erected and completed in 1733; this being the third church built upon the site.

“Mr. Elmes, in his diligently compiled Topographical Dictionary of London, attributes the design to Gibbs; but the following statement is more circumstantial: ‘It is curious that this edifice, which has given to Flitcroft his reputation, should be attributed, in the Report of the Church Commissioners to the House of Commons, to Hawksmoor, who, they say, expended 8605l. 7s. 2d. upon it; but there is no doubt but Walpole, and the View, published in 1753, are correct in ascribing it to Flitcroft, who was probably employed by Gibbs, and not by the commissioners.’—Knight’s London.

“The church is built of Portland stone, as are also the tower and the tall and graceful spire, which are 160 feet high to the vane. The interior is 75 feet in length, exclusive of the recess for the altar, and 60 feet in width: it has a wagon-headed ceiling, and is divided into nave and aisles by fluted stone Ionic columns, which assist the main walls in carrying the roof. The effect of the entire composition is more than usually chaste and beautiful.

“A new entrance-gateway, of considerable beauty, has, within these forty years, been erected from the designs of William Leverton, Esq., in which is introduced an ancient piece of sculpture, of more curiosity than beauty, representing the last judgment. This work was taken from ‘The Resurrection Gate’ of the old church, which had also many rich monuments, one of which, to Sir Roger L’Estrange, the well-known loyalist and writer, still remains. Andrew Marvel was also buried here, ‘a man in whose reputation the glory of the patriot has eclipsed the finer powers of the poet.’ St. Giles’s also preserves the ashes of Chapman, the translator of Homer; and Flaxman, the truly great sculptor, was buried here on December 15, 1826, his body accompanied to the grave by the president and council of the Royal Academy. For once, an inscription speaks simple truth; we read here, ‘John Flaxman, R.A., P.S., whose mortal life was a constant preparation for a blessed immortality: his angelic spirit returned to the Divine Giver on the 7th of December, 1826, in the 72d year of his age.’

“There is a peculiarly interesting circumstance connected with his death, told by Allan Cunningham in his Lives of the British Sculptors (p. 359), which we cannot resist the temptation of transcribing. He says ‘the winter had set in, and, as he was never a very early mover, a stranger found him rising one morning when he called about nine o’clock. ‘Sir,’ said the visitant, presenting a book as he spoke, ‘this work was sent to me by the author, an Italian artist, to present to you, and at the same time to apologise for its extraordinary dedication. In truth, sir, it was so generally believed throughout Italy that you were dead, that my friend determined to shew the world how much he esteemed your genius, and having this book ready for publication, he has inscribed it Al Ombra di Flaxman. No sooner was the book published than the story of your death was contradicted, and the author, affected by his mistake, which, nevertheless, he rejoices at, begs you will receive his work and his apology.’ Flaxman smiled, and accepted the volume with unaffected modesty, and mentioned the circumstance, as curious, to his own family and some of his friends. This occurred on Saturday the 2d of December, when he was well and cheerful; the next day he was taken suddenly ill with cold, and on the 7th was dead.

“In the churchyard, too, is the tomb of the Pendrells, who aided in the escape of Charles II.; and a few years since was revived the custom of decorating this tomb on Restoration Day (May 29), with branches of oak, in commemoration of Pendrell’s loyalty and attachment to the ‘unkingship.’

“In the tower is a clock, the dials of which are illuminated at night with gas; this being, if we remember rightly, the first improvement of the kind introduced into the metropolis.