Old St. Paul's Cathedral

by William Benham

A more significant indication of the coming change was witnessed in 1541. In May of the previous year, King Henry issued a proclamation that every parish in England should provide itself with a copy of the English Bible by All-hallow-tide next, under a penalty of 40s. He explains that the object is that "the power, wisdom, and goodness of God may be perceived hereby," but the people are not to expound it, nor to read it while Mass is going on, but are to "read it meekly, humbly, and reverently for their instruction, edification, and amendment." Accordingly, Bishop Bonner had six of these great Bibles chained to pillars in different parts of St. Paul's, as well as an "advertisement" fixed at the same places, "admonishing all that came thither to read that they should lay aside vain-glory, hypocrisy, and all other corrupt affections, and bring with them discretion, good intention, charity, reverence, and a quiet behaviour, for the edification of their own souls; but not to draw multitudes about them, nor to make exposition of what they read, nor to read aloud in time of divine service, nor enter into disputes concerning it."

There was no mistake as to the eagerness of the people to take advantage of the opportunity. They assembled in crowds to hear[page 43] such as could read, and even, so says Burnet, sent their children to school that they might carry them with them and hear them read.

It is not to be wondered at that Bonner soon found that his Advertisement was powerless to check what he dreaded. Not only did expounders dwell upon such words as "Drink ye all of it," but they compared the clergy to the Scribes and Pharisees, and identified them with the generation of vipers, and with priests of Baal. Accordingly, he put forth a fresh advertisement, in which he said that "diverse, wilful, and unlearned persons, contrary to all good order and honest behaviour, have read the Scriptures especially and chiefly at the time of divine service in this right honourable Catholic church, yea, in the time of the sermon and declaration of the Word of God, in such sort as was both to the evil and lewd example of the rest of the multitude, and also to the high dishonour of the Word of God, over and beside the great disturbance and unquietness of the people repairing hither for honest purposes." And he declares that if this friendly admonition be not attended to he will have the Bibles removed, but that he shall do so very unwillingly, seeing that he "will be, by God's grace, right glad that the Scripture and Word of God should be well known."

There is a painful story in "Foxe's Martyrs," that one John Porter was thrown into Newgate by Bonner for thus "expounding," and that he died there of the ill-treatment he received.

In the short reign of Edward VI., great destruction was wrought in the structure and ornamentation of St. Paul's, and no thanks are due to the "Protector" that the mischief was not greater. There was no sign for a month or two. Edward ascended the throne on January 28, 1547, and just two months later the French king, Francis I., died. On that occasion, Cranmer, attended by eight bishops, sang a Requiem Mass in Latin at St. Paul's, and Gardiner preached a funeral sermon before the Lord Mayor and Aldermen, eulogising this persecutor of the Reformed Faith. But now came unmistakable signs of change. Ridley, then Master of Pembroke College, Cambridge, soon to be Bishop of London, preached a somewhat violent sermon at Paul's Cross against the adoration of saints, the use of holy water, and the reverence done to pictures[page 44] and images. We may note that on the day of the King's Coronation, amid all the splendid pageantry and decorations, a cable was fastened to the top of St. Paul's steeple, the other end attached to an anchor by the Deanery door, and a sailor descended "swift as an arrow from the bow."

It was in September following that the order from the Council commanded the destruction of images in churches and the discontinuance of all processions. The Bishop, Bonner, protested against the alterations and was sent to the Fleet for contumacy, made submission, and was released after eight days, during which the alterations were made. The images were all pulled down, as were the rood, the crucifix, and its attendants, St. Mary and St. John.

The "Grey Friars Chronicle"[¹ ] (published by the Camden Society), describes all this, and takes care to note that two of the men engaged in the sacrilegious work were killed. The almsboxes shared the general confiscation, and doubtless not only the services of the church, but the poor who came for food, suffered thereby.

Protector Somerset had wide ideas. He aspired to build himself a magnificent palace and to attach a park to it along the banks of the Thames. The palace was on the site of the present Somerset House; the park was to extend from it to St. Paul's. The cloister and chapel in Pardon Churchyard were destroyed, and five hundred tons of bones were carted away to Finsbury Fields (it is said there were more than a thousand cartloads) and piled up into a mound, which got the name of the "Bone Hill," and this has come in our day to "Bunhill." On this hill three windmills were erected. The mound has long since been trodden down, and the windmills are gone, but the name "Windmill Street" remains. The chapter house and the small cloister round it, of which we have already spoken, were also destroyed, and the materials were used for the new Somerset House. Within the last few years the bases of parts of this cloister have been uncovered under the skilful supervision of Mr. Penrose, and may be seen on the south side of the present cathedral.

As our subject is only the cathedral itself, we pass by the[page 45] controversies and changes in creed and practice which the reign of Edward VI. witnessed. The Protector Somerset fell the victim of his own inordinate covetousness, and died on the scaffold, January 22nd, 1552, to the great satisfaction of the "Grey Friar" chronicler. But the Reformation went on; Bonner was imprisoned all through the reign, Ridley was made Bishop of London (1550), and the sacrament was administered according to the Reformed use. Rood-loft, altars, crucifixes, images, all disappeared. The Dean, William May, gave orders for the removal of the organ, but they were not carried out. It pealed out the Te Deum on the accession of Mary, July 6th, 1553. The nation certainly rejoiced at this change. Not merely the rapacity of the ruling powers at court had alienated public sympathy, but the people at large at this time resented the loss of their ancient worship, and had not as yet learned the greater spirituality and reality of the Reformed service. We may note that in the exuberance of popular delight in London whilst the cathedral bells were ringing, a Dutchman went to the very top of the lofty steeple, waved a flag, and kindled a blaze of torches.

But a fierce contest was inevitable. Paul's Cross for a little while gave forth most conflicting views. Before the year was out the mass was re-established in St. Paul's. On St. Catharine's Day there were splendid processions and stately ceremonial, with special thought of the Queen's mother, Catharine of Aragon. In a word, it was in St. Paul's Cathedral that the recovery of Roman Catholicism was specially manifested in England. William May was deprived of the Deanery, he being a hearty supporter of the Reformed doctrines, and Feckenham succeeded him, but in 1556 was made Abbot of Westminster. He was so holy and kindly a man that he won great respect, though he was an uncompromising Papist. He is said to have so exerted himself with Queen Mary to procure the liberation of her sister Elizabeth as to offend the Queen, and it is further said (Fuller) that Elizabeth on her accession sent for him and offered him the Archbishopric of Canterbury if he would conform to the Reformed Faith. He refused, and was deprived, and went into retirement, and at St. Paul's May was restored to the Deanery.