[217]‘Whitehall, March 7.
‘My dear Son,—I hope by this time you are pretty well satisfied of the condition of the climate you are in; if not, I believe you will ere Lent be over; and will learne to dine upon sallad; and morue with egges will scarce be allowed: if you thinke you can dine better cheape in Italy you can trie, but I think the passing of the Alpes and other dangers of disbanded armies and abominable Lodgings will ballance that advantage; but the seeing of fine buildings I perceive temptes you, and your companion, Mr. Strong, whose inclination and interest leades him, by neither of which can I find you are mov’d; but how doth it concerne you? You would have it to say hereafter that you have seen Rome, Naples and a hundred other fine places; a hundred others can say as much and more; calculate whither this be worth the expence and hazard as to any advantage at youre returne. I sent you to France at a time of businesse and when you might make your observations and find acquaintance who might hereafter be usefull to you in the future concernes of your life: if this be your ayme I willingly let you proceed, provided you will soon returne, for these reasons, the little I have to leave you is unfortunately involved in trouble, and your presence would be a comfort to me, to assist me, not only for my sake, but your own that you might understand your affaires, before it shall please God to take me from you, which if suddenly will leave you in perplexity and losse. I doe not say all this out of parsimony, for what you spend will be out of what will in short time, be your owne, but I would have you be a man of businesse as early as you can bring your thoughts to it. I hope, by your next you will give me account of the reception of our ambassador;[218] of the intrigues at this time between the two nations, of the establishment of the commerce, and of anything that may be innocently talked of without danger, and reflection, that I may perceive whither you look about you or noe and penetrate into what occurres, or whither the world passes like a pleasant dream, or the amusement of fine scenes in a play without considering the plot. If you have in ten weeks spent half your bill of exchange besides your gold, I confesse your money will not hold out, either abroad for yourself or for us at home to supply you, especially if you goe for Italy, which voyage forward and backward will take up more than twenty weekes: thinke well of it, and let me hear more from you, for though I would advise you, I will not discontent you. Mr. Strong hath profered credit by the same merchant he uses for his son, and I will thinke of it, but before I change, you must make up your account with your merchant, and send it to me. My hearty service to young Mr. Strong and tell him I am obliged to him for your sake. I blesse God for your health, and pray for the continuance of it through all adventures till it pleases him to restore you to your Sister and friends who wish the same as doth
‘Your most affectionate Father,
‘Chr. Wren.
‘P.S. Poor Billy continues in his indisposition, and I fear is lost to me and the world, to my great discomfort and your future sorrow.’
What answer the younger Christopher sent does not appear; but his father did not ‘discontent’ him; the young man did make the journey to Italy, then such a formidable undertaking, and was ever after reckoned a very accomplished and travelled gentleman. ‘Young Mr. Strong’ must have been the son of Sir Christopher’s faithful master-mason, Edward Strong, one of a great family of builders and stone-cutters; I suppose the ‘poor Billy’ of the postscript to have been the writer’s youngest son, then nearly nineteen, who however recovered and outlived his father by about fifteen years.
The Royal Society had sustained a severe loss by Charles II.’s death, and if King James took little interest in their discussions, William III. was utterly indifferent. Still it had won a certain position of its own, and was able to keep its steady course. Wren remained one of the members who attended most regularly and contributed to discussions on a variety of subjects, though not perhaps on the ‘jessamine-scented gloves,’ which figure so often in Pepys’ diary, the secret of whose perfumery Wren once undertook to find out. He was again chosen Grand Master of the Freemasons, and continued in that office until 1702.
His friend and fellow-member in the Royal Society, Robert Boyle, had written a book called ‘A Free Discourse against Swearing,’ which was published after his death. Wren followed this up by an order which he had affixed in many parts of S. Paul’s, while the building went on:—
‘Whereas, among labourers, &c. that ungodly custom of swearing is too frequently heard, to the dishonour of God and contempt of authority; and to the end, therefore, that such impiety may be utterly banished from these works, intended for the service of God and the honour of religion—it is ordered that customary swearing shall be a sufficient crime to dismiss any labourer that comes to the call, and the clerk of the works, upon sufficient proof, shall dismiss them accordingly, and if any master, working by task, shall not, upon admonition, reform this profanation among his apprentices, servants and labourers, it shall be construed his fault; and he shall be liable to be censured by the Commissioners.’
Such was Sir Christopher’s care for his grand work: it was intended for the service of God, and therefore was to have no blemish which Wren’s diligence could avoid. He was constantly there and shrank neither from fatigue nor from risk. The famous Duchess of Marlborough, in her quarrels with Vanbrugh over the building of Blenheim, complained bitterly that he asked 300l. a year for himself and a salary for his clerk, ‘when it is well-known that Sir Christopher Wren was content to be dragged up in a basket three or four times a week to the top of S. Paul’s, and at great hazard, for 200l. a year.’ Probably it was because her Grace considered his charges so moderate that, after her last quarrel with Vanbrugh, she engaged Sir Christopher to build Marlborough House, at the corner of Pall Mall. The site presented great difficulties, but the building in red brick and stone was a handsome one, and lately has been much enlarged. Vanbrugh’s first start in life was his being engaged by Wren to act as clerk of the works to the buildings at Greenwich. Gibbs and Hawksmoor were also pupils of Wren’s, and worked under him at some of the innumerable works on which he was engaged. The building of Greenwich was vigorously continued, and in 1705,[219] ‘they began to take in wounded and worn-out seamen, who are exceedingly well provided for.’
At the beginning of 1698, Peter the Great made his extraordinary voyage to England and took possession of Evelyn’s house, Sayes Court, at Deptford, in order to be near the dockyard and inspect the ship-building. He was anything but a desirable tenant. ‘There is a house full of people and right nasty,’ wrote Evelyn’s servant.
‘The Czar lies next your library, and dines in the parlour next your study. He dines at ten o’clock and six at night, is very seldom at home a whole day, very often in the King’s yard, or by water, dressed in several dresses. The King is expected here this day, the best parlour is pretty clean for him to be entertained. The King pays for all he has.’[220]
The Czar’s three months’ occupancy of Sayes Court left it a wreck, and Evelyn got Sir Christopher, and the Royal gardener, Mr. Loudon, to go down and estimate the repairs which would be necessary. They allowed 150l. in their report to the Treasury, but could not by any money replace the beautiful holly hedge through which Peter the Great had been trundled in a wheel-barrow, or repair the garden he had laid waste.
In 1699, Wren finished the last of those City churches which the Fire had injured or destroyed. S. Dunstan’s in the East had suffered severely by the Fire: the walls of the church had not fallen, but the interior had been much damaged and the monument to the famous sailor and discoverer, Sir John Hawkins, who was buried there, perished. The old church had a lofty wooden spire cased with lead, which of course fell and was consumed. When Sir Christopher had repaired the body of the building the parishioners were anxious to have back the spire also, and Dame Dionis Williamson, a Norfolk lady, who had been a great benefactress to S. Mary’s, Bow, gave 400l. towards this object. It is one of the most curious of all Wren’s spires, as it rests on four arches springing from the angles of the tower. Three more such spires exist, two in Scotland and one at Newcastle. Tradition says that the steeple of S. Dunstan’s was the design or the suggestion of Wren’s daughter Jane. Perhaps, like the leaning tower of Pisa, it is more wonderful than satisfactory to the eye, but Sir Christopher was certainly proud of it and confident in its stability. Great crowds assembled to see the supports taken away, and Wren watched with a telescope, says the story, on London Bridge for the rocket which announced that all was safely done, but it is hardly probable that he was anxious about the result.
Four years later, when the tempest known as the ‘great storm’ raged in England, destroying twelve ships in the Royal navy, many merchant vessels, and a great number of buildings, some one came with a long face to tell Sir Christopher, that ‘all the steeples in London had suffered;’ he replied at once, ‘Not S. Dunstan’s, I am sure.’ He was perfectly right, and the account given of the others was an exaggeration.
On February 1, 1699, the Morning Prayer Chapel of S. Paul’s was opened for service. Later in the same month, a fire broke out at the west end of the choir, where ‘Father Smith’ was still at work. It caused considerable alarm, and was got under with some damage, especially to two of the pillars, and to a decorated arch. The gilding also lost some of its brightness. A nameless poem[221] fixes the date of this fire, which has been much disputed. It may have been in consequence of this alarm that Sir Christopher covered all the woodwork of the upper parts of the Cathedral with ‘a fibrous concrete’ said to resist fire so well that faggots might be kindled below it with impunity.
While S. Paul’s was thus advancing towards its full beauty, the care of Westminster Abbey was assigned to Wren. Little or no attention seems to have been spent on it between the time of Charles I.’s reign and that in which it was handed over to Wren.
With the energy which his sixty-seven years had not checked, he examined the grand building where he had worshipped as a schoolboy, and instantly ordered some of the most needful repairs.
In 1713 he sent in a statement to Dr. Atterbury, who was both Bishop of Rochester and Dean of Westminster, having in that year succeeded to Wren’s old friend, Bishop Sprat: from this paper, though it is anticipating the date, some extracts are here given.
‘When I had the Honour to attend your Lordship, to congratulate your Episcopal Dignity, and pay that Respect which particularly concerned myself as employed in the chief Direction of the Works and Repairs of the Collegiate-Church of S. Peter in Westminster, you was pleased to give me this seasonable admonition, that I should consider my advanced Age; and as I had already made fair steps in the Reparation of that ancient and ruinous Structure, you thought it very requisite for the publick Service, I should leave a Memorial of what I had done, and what my Thoughts were for carrying on the Works for the future.’ Then follows the history of the building of the abbey up to the reign of Henry III., who rebuilt it ‘according to the Mode which came into Fashion after the Holy War.
‘This we now call the Gothick manner of Architecture (so the Italians called what was not after the Roman style), tho’ the Goths were rather Destroyers than Builders; I think it should with more Reason be called the Saracen Style; for those People wanted neither Arts nor Learning, and after we in the West had lost both, we borrowed again from them, out of their Arabick Books, what they with great Diligence had translated from the Greeks.... They built their Mosques round, disliking the Christian form of a Cross: the old quarries whence the Ancients took their large blocks of marble for whole Columns and Architraves were neglected, for they thought both impertinent. Their carriage was by camels, therefore their Buildings were fitted for small stones, and Columns of their own fancy consisting of many pieces, and their Arches were pointed without key-stones which they thought too heavy. The Reasons were the same in our Northern Climates abounding in free stone, but wanting marble.... The Saracen mode of building seen in the East, soon spread over Europe and particularly in France, the Fashions of which nation we affected to imitate in all ages, even when we were at enmity with it.’...
Wren laments over the mixture of oak with the less-enduring chestnut wood in the roof of the Abbey, and the use of Rygate stone which absorbed water, and in a frost scaled off. He says he cut all the ragged ashlar work of Rygate stone out of the east window, replacing it with durable Burford stone, and secured all the buttresses on the south side. The north side of the Abbey is so choked up by buildings, and so shaken in parts by vaults rashly dug close to its buttresses, that he can do little.
‘I have yet said nothing of King Henry VIIth’s Chapel, a nice embroidered Work and performed with tender Caen stone, and though lately built in comparison, is so eaten up by our Weather, that it begs for some compassion, which I hope the Sovereign Power will take as it is the Regal Sepulture.’
The most necessary outward repairs of stone-work, he says, are one-third part done; the north front, and the great Rose Window there are very ruinous; he has prepared a proper design for them. Having summed up the repairs still essential for the security of the building, he proceeds to state what are, in his judgment, the parts of the original design for the Abbey still unfinished.
‘The original intention was plainly to have had a Steeple, the Beginnings of which appear on the corners of the Cross, but left off before it rose so high as the Ridge of the Roof, and the Vault of the Quire under it, is only Lath and Plaister, now rotten and must be taken care of.
I have made a Design, which will not be very expensive but light, but still in the Gothick Form, and of a Style with the rest of the structure, which I would strictly adhere to, throughout the whole intention: to deviate from the old Form would be to run into a disagreeable mixture which no Person of a good Taste could relish. I have varied a little from the usual Form, in giving twelve sides to the Spire instead of eight, for Reasons, to be discerned upon the Model.
‘The Angles of Pyramids in the Gothick Architecture were usually enriched with the Flower the Botanists call the Calceolus, which is a proper form to help workmen to ascend on the outside to amend any defects, without raising large scaffolds upon every slight occasion; I have done the same, being of so good Use, as well as agreeable Ornament.... It is evident, as observed before, the two West Towers were left imperfect, and have continued so since the Dissolution of the Monastery, one much higher than the other, though still too low for Bells, which are stifled by the Height of the Roof above them; they ought certainly to be carried to an equal Height, one story above the ridge of the Roof, still continuing the Gothick manner, in the stone-work, and tracery.... It will be most necessary to rebuild the great North Window with Portland stone, to answer the South Rose Window which was well rebuilt about forty years since; the stair-cases at the corners and Pyramids set upon them conformable to the old style to make the whole of a piece.... For all these new Additions I have prepared perfect Draughts and Models, such as I conceive may agree with the original scheme of the old architect, without any modern mixtures to show my own Inventions: in like manner as I have among the Parochial Churches of London given some few Examples (where I was obliged to deviate from a better style), which appear not ungraceful, but ornamental to the East part of the city; and it is to be hoped, by the publick care, the West part also, in good time will be as well adorned: and surely by nothing more properly than a lofty Spire and Western Towers to Westminster Abbey.’
With this, still unfulfilled hope, Wren’s interesting paper closes. Nine years afterwards he did, however, finish the north front, commonly known as Solomon’s Porch.
Wren is so commonly spoken of as having built—and spoilt—the western towers, that it is well here to mention that his share in them is very small; he only restored with a careful hand the lower portion of the towers then standing.[222] They were continued by Hawksmoor after Wren’s death, and by two other architects in succession after the death of Hawksmoor in 1736. No one of these had, as Wren had, the high-minded desire to do justice to ‘the original architect without any modern mixtures of my own.’
MEMBER FOR WEYMOUTH—RISING OF THE SAP IN TREES—PRINCE GEORGE’S STATUE—JANE WREN’S DEATH—THANKSGIVING AT S. PAUL’S—LETTER TO HIS SON—SON MARRIES MARY MUSARD—DEATH OF MR. EVELYN—QUEEN ANNE’S ACT FOR BUILDING FIFTY CHURCHES—LETTER ON CHURCH BUILDING.
‘The old knight turning about his head twice or thrice to take a survey of this great metropolis, bid me observe how thick the City was set with churches, and that there was scarce a single steeple on this side Temple Bar. “A most heathenish sight!” says Sir Roger; “there is no religion at this end of the town. The fifty new churches will very much mend the prospect, but church work is slow, church work is slow.”’—The Spectator, No. 383.
In 1700 Wren was returned by the boroughs of Weymouth and Melcombe Regis to a somewhat stormy Parliament.
He was finishing several of the City churches by the addition of towers to some, where, as at S. Magnus, London Bridge, and S. Andrew’s, Holborn, the main parts had been previously built.
He gave a design for All Saints’ Church, Isleworth; it was, however, reckoned too costly, and nothing was done until, in 1705, Sir Orlando Gee left a legacy of 500l. towards the rebuilding of the church, when Wren’s design was partially adopted, and the work done by his faithful master-mason, Edward Strong.[223]
With all this work, Wren yet found time to write a treatise on ‘The rising of the sap in trees.’ It is a short treatise, evidently copied by a copyist, though a little indian-ink drawing at the side is probably Wren’s own. The question in dispute seems to have been whether this natural rising of the sap contradicted the newly discovered law of gravity.
‘It is wonderful,’ he says, ‘to see the rising of the sap in Trees. All will bleed more or less when they are tapped by boring a hole through the Bark, some very considerably, as Birch, which will afford as much liquor every day almost as the milke of a cow; in a Vine when a bough is cut off it will if not stopped bleed to death. Now by what mechanisme is water raised to such a height, as in Palmitos to 120 foot high? A skillfull Engineer cannot effect this without great force and a complicated engine, which Nature doth without sensible motion; it steals up as freely as the water descends: the reason of this is obscure as yett to naturalists.’
After some discussion of various theories, he proceeds to show by the help of the little drawing, ‘that the onely Vicissitudes of heat and cold in ye aire is sufficient to raise the sap to the height of the loftiest trees.’ Then follows the proof of this by mechanics refuting the notion of
‘a secret motion in nature contrary to that of the gravity, by which plants aspire upwards.
‘But though I have shown how the sap may be mechanically raised from the Root to the top of the loftiest trees, yett how it comes to be varyed according to the particular nature of the Tree by a Fermentation in the Root; how the Raine water entering the Root acquires a spirit that keeps it from freezing, but also gives it such distinguishing tastes and qualities is beyond mechanical Philosophy to describe and may require a great collection of Phenomena with a large history of plants to shew how they expand the leaves and produce the Seed and Fruit from the same Raine water so wonderfully diversified and continued since the first Creation.’
Another paper of the same date was written ‘On the surface of the terrestrial Globe,’ but this does not appear to have been preserved. Many of Sir Christopher’s writing’s and many also of his inventions were lost by Mr. Oldenburg, the Royal Society’s secretary, of whom Wren frequently complained that he not only neglected to enter them on the Society’s Register, but conveyed them to France and Germany, where they appeared, attributed as inventions to those who had stolen them.
One cannot but admire the versatility of mind which enabled Wren, in the midst of great architectural works, and endless business details, to write papers such as these, and to digest and decide upon Flamsteed’s long letters on the Earth’s motion, his quarrels with Mr. Halley, and his measurement of the height of the Welsh hills.
The progress of Greenwich and Chelsea Hospitals, the growth of his beautiful S. Paul’s, the repairs of the Abbey, were now the absorbing interests of Wren’s life. From the house in Whitehall which he occupied with his daughter he could easily reach the two former by water, or the latter on foot. Two most interesting pictures by Canaletto,[224] giving a general view of the city and of Westminster, enable us to realise what the whole effect must have been in an atmosphere far clearer than at present, before the river was cut by iron bridges, or the city robbed of steeple or tower. The death of King William and the accession of Queen Anne in the spring of 1702 made little difference to Wren, except to his advantage. He appears to have been on very good terms with her, and with her Danish husband. He is said to have built S. Anne’s, Soho,[225] and to have made it externally to resemble a Danish church as much as he could, out of compliment to Prince George. He also gave to the Town Hall of Windsor, a statue of Prince George, to correspond with that of Queen Anne. The Prince is dressed in a Roman costume, and the pedestal has the following inscription:
SERENISSIMO PRINCIPI
GEORGII PRINCIPI DANIAE
HEROI OMNI SAECULO VENERANDO
CHRISTOPHORUS WREN, ARM:
POSUIT MDCCXIII.
One marvels how ‘Est-il possible’ came to merit such an inscription as this!
In 1702 Sir Christopher suffered a grievous loss by the death of his only daughter, Jane, on the 29th of December. She was laid in the vault of S. Paul’s close to the graves of Dr. and Mrs. Holder,[226] and her father wrote the short Latin inscription which records her virtues, her skill in music, and implies how loving and how congenial a companion he had lost in her. She was but twenty-six when she died. The sculptor, Bird,[227] of whose power Wren had a good opinion, carved a monument in low relief, representing Jane Wren playing on an organ; a harp and a spinnet are beside her, and a group of angels in the clouds above, one of whom holds the music. It is but an ordinary piece of monumental sculpture, now much obscured by dust. Jane Wren’s death must have left a great blank in the life of the father whose interests and pursuits she had shared, and one wishes she could have lived long enough to see the top stone laid on the dome of S. Paul’s. The Duke of Marlborough’s brilliant victory at Blenheim, on Aug. 13, 1704, brought Queen Anne and all her court in their utmost splendour to a thanksgiving at S. Paul’s on the 7th of September.
‘The streets were scaffolded from Temple Bar, where the Lord Mayor presented her Majesty with the Sword, which she returned. Every Company was ranged under its banners, the Citty Militia without the rails, which were all hung with cloth suitable to the colour of the banner. The Lord Mayor, Sheriffs and Aldermen were in their scarlet robes, with caparisoned horses; the Knight Marshall on horseback, the Foot Guards; the Queen in a rich coach with eight horses, none with her but the Duchess of Marlborough in a very plain garment, the Queene full of jewells. Music and trumpets at every Citty Company. The great Officers of the Crown, Nobility and Bishops, all in coaches with six horses, besides innumerable servants, went to S. Paul’s where the Deane preached. After this the Queen went back in the same order to S. James’s. The Citty Companies feasted all the nobility and Bishops, and illuminated at night. Music for the Church and anthems by the best masters. The day before wet and stormy, but this was one of the most serene and calm days that had been all the year.’[228]
No doubt it was a splendid pageant, the grandest that had been seen since those which celebrated the Restoration, and S. Paul’s, despite the scaffolding still round the dome, must have looked magnificent. In 1705, Sir Christopher’s eldest son went abroad again, travelling this time to Holland, where in the excitement of Marlborough’s brilliant campaign he very nearly joined the army as a volunteer.
A letter[229] to him from Sir Christopher is extant; the handwriting is not quite so steady as in the former letter, but still clear.
‘Whitehall, Oct. 11, 1705.
‘Dear Son,—I received at once three of yr letrs: one from Harlem, Sep. 26, another from Amsterdam of Sep. 28, O.S., a third of Oct. 13, N.S., by all which I rejoyced in your good Health & your recovery from your cold. I am very well satisfied you have layd aside your designe for the Army; which I think had not been safe or pertinent, at least not soe much as Bookes & Conversation with ye learned. Your Traffic for good Bookes I cannot disapprove. You tell me Gronovius[230] is 25 volumes, I am told they are 26, and that the last is the best & comonly sold by its selfe, you will have a care [a word seems to be omitted] being imposed upon. Mr. Bateman in his (?) will give you advice how you may get them into the Secretary’s packets. You remember how much trouble Mr. Strong was put to at Dover by the impertinence of the Customer there. I hope this may bee prevented. Wee have not yet rejoyced for Barcelona[231] though you have; though wee doe not doubt it and wagers are layd 6 to one: last night the seales were given to Mr. Cowper & changes are made of Lord Lieutenants. Give my Service to Mr. Roman & thanks for his Civilities to you. I am importuned to take a little journy to my cosin Munson’s to christen her 8th son. Wee are told here that my Ld D. of Marlborough goeth certainly to Vienna, & you resolve well to wait on him before he goes, & then I thinke you have little else to doe but to take the best opportunity to returne, which I am told may happen if you come with my Ld Woodstock[232] who will have convoy. Wee are all in good health at both Houses and wish you happinesse wch wee also contrive for you.
‘I am, dear Son, your affectionate Father,
‘Chr. Wren.’
I suppose the mention of ‘both houses,’ and the hint of happiness being contrived, refer to young Christopher’s marriage, which took place in the following year. He married Mary,[233] daughter of Mr. Philip Musard, jeweller to Queen Anne, by whom he had a son, a fourth Christopher Wren.
Wren lost a faithful and valued friend in Mr. Evelyn, who died in the February of 1706, at the age of eighty-five. If Evelyn’s diary, of which such frequent use has been made in these pages, is not the same entire revelation of the man himself as is the diary of his friend Pepys, it yet possesses a singular charm in its refinement of thought, and, when the veil is raised, shows us a gentleman and a Christian to be respected as well as loved. He had kept up a steady friendship with Sir Christopher since the day when they first met at Oxford, and had the highest opinion of his powers: ‘an excellent genius had this incomparable person,’ is his remark after a conversation with Wren. Evelyn was on the S. Paul’s Commission from the first, and Wren was destined, a few years later, sorely to miss the support of this constant friend.
The needful sum for covering in the dome of S. Paul’s was voted by Parliament in 1708. The question of using copper or lead was greatly discussed; lead was finally chosen; it does not clearly appear which way Sir Christopher’s judgment inclined. Probably to the lead, as he considered it susceptible of much ornament, and the lead covering of S. Paul’s dome is peculiarly beautiful. Bird in this year finished the statue of Queen Anne, which is in the fore court of the Cathedral, and is not without merit. He also carved the relief of the Conversion of S. Paul above the western portico: the height is too great for it to be possible to judge of the goodness of the sculpture.
The Act known as ‘Queen Anne’s Act for building Fifty New Churches’ was passed in this year, and Wren was of course one of the commissioners. At the age of seventy-six he could not undertake the designing of these new churches. They were principally built by Gibbs, Hawksmoor, Vanbrugh and others. S. George’s, Hanover Square, S. Anne’s, Limehouse, S. George’s, Bloomsbury, S. Leonard’s, Shoreditch, are some of those built under this Act. Perhaps the best specimen is the beautiful S. Mary-le-Strand, built by Gibbs, on an old site stolen from the Church by the Duke of Somerset in the reign of Henry VIII. Recent careful painting and gilding and the removal of pews have made S. Mary’s a charming example of the amount of decoration which can be advantageously bestowed on a Paladian church.
Wren wrote on this occasion a letter to a friend on the Church-building Commission in which he gives the result of his great experience in building town churches. The letter is given with a few omissions. I fear that few of the Queen Anne churches were built strictly on the principles he here lays down; certainly the hint as to pews was disregarded, and grievous indeed have been the results of such disregard. It has been a common fallacy that all Wren’s churches were built for pews, and that anything but high pews would ruin the architectural effect. What was Wren’s own opinion is manifest from the letter; the actual effect can be seen, for instance, in a print of S. Stephen’s, Walbrook, where this gem of all his churches is represented, just after its completion, with the area clear; or in S. Mary’s, Bow, where the pews have lately been diminished into just such ‘benches’ as the great architect desired.
‘Since Providence,’ he writes, ‘in great mercy has protracted my age, to the finishing the Cathedral Church of S. Paul, and the parochial churches of London, in lieu of those demolished by the fire, (all which were executed during the fatigues of my employment in the service of the Crown from that time to the present happy reign); and being now constituted one of the Commissioners for building, pursuant to the late Act, fifty more Churches in London and Westminster; I shall presume to communicate briefly my sentiments, after long experience, and without further ceremony exhibit to better judgement, what at present occurs to me, in a transient view of this whole affair; not doubting but that the debates of the worthy Commissioners may hereafter give me occasion to change, or add to these speculations.
‘1. I conceive the Churches should be built, not where vacant ground may be cheapest purchased in the extremities of the suburbs, but among the thicker inhabitants, for the convenience of the better sort, although the site of them should cost more; the better inhabitants contributing most to the future repairs, and the ministers and officers of the church, and charges of the parish.
‘2. I could wish that all burials in churches might be disallowed, which is not only unwholesome, but the pavements can never be kept even, nor pews upright; and if the churchyard be close about the church, this also is inconvenient, because the ground being continually raised by the graves, occasions, in time, a descent by steps in the church, which renders it damp, and the walls green, as appears evidently in all old churches.
‘3. It will be enquired, where then shall be the burials? I answer, in cemeteries seated in the outskirts of the town....
‘A piece of ground of two acres in the fields will be purchased for much less than two roods among the buildings; this being enclosed with a strong brick wall, and having a walk round, and two cross walks decently planted with yew trees, the four quarters may serve four parishes, where the dead need not be disturbed at the pleasure of the sexton or piled four or five upon one another, or bones thrown out to gain room.... It may be considered further, that if the cemeteries be thus thrown into the fields, they will bound the excessive growth of the city with a graceful border, which is now encircled with scavengers’ dung-stalls.
‘4. As to the situation of the churches, I should propose they be brought as forward as possible into the larger and more open streets; not in obscure lanes, nor where coaches will be much obstructed in the passage: nor are we, I think, too nicely to observe east or west in the position, unless it falls out properly; such fronts as shall happen to lie most open to view should be adorned with porticoes, both for beauty and convenience; which together with handsome spires or lanterns, rising in good proportion above the neighbouring houses (of which I have given several examples in the City of different forms), may be of sufficient ornament to the town, without a great expense for enriching the outward walls of the Churches, in which plainness and duration ought principally, if not wholly, to be studied....
‘5. I shall mention something of the materials for public fabrics. It is true, the mighty demand for the hasty works of thousands of houses at once after the Fire of London, and the frauds of those who built by the great,(?) have so debased the value of materials, that good bricks are not to be now had without greater prices than formerly, and indeed, if rightly made, will deserve them; but brickmakers spoil the earth in the mixing and hasty burning, till the bricks will hardly bear weight; though the earth about London, rightly managed, will yield as good bricks as were the Roman bricks (which I have often found in the old ruins of the City), and will endure, in our air, beyond any stone our island affords; which, unless the quarries lie near the sea, are too dear for general use. The best is Portland or Roch-Abbey stone; but these are not without their faults. The next material is the lime: chalk-lime is the constant practice, which, well mixed with good sand, is not amiss, though much worse than hard stone-lime. The vaulting of S. Paul’s is a rendering as hard as stone: it is composed of cockle-shell lime well beaten with sand: the more labour in the beating, the better and stronger the mortar. I shall say nothing of marble (though England, Scotland, and Ireland afford good, and of beautiful colours); but this will prove too costly for our purpose, unless for Altar-pieces. In windows and doors Portland stone may be used, with good bricks and stone quoins. As to roofs, good oak is certainly the best, because it will bear some negligence. The churchwardens’ care may be defective in speedy mending drips; they usually whitewash the church, and set up their names, but neglect to preserve the roof over their heads. It must be allowed, that the roof being more out of sight, is still more unminded. Next to oak, is good yellow deal, which is a timber of length, and light, and makes excellent work at first; but, if neglected, will speedily perish; especially if gutters (which is a general fault in builders) be made to run upon the principal rafters, the ruin may be sudden. Our sea-service for oak, and the wars in the North Sea, make timber at present of excessive price. I suppose, ere long, we must have recourse to the West Indies, where most excellent timber may be had for cutting and fetching. Our tiles are ill made, and our slates not good: lead is certainly the best and lightest covering, and being of our own growth and manufacture, and lasting, if properly laid, for many hundred years, is, without question, the most preferable; though I will not deny but an excellent tile may be made to be very durable: our artisans are not yet instructed in it, and it is not soon done to inform them.... Now, if the churches could hold each 2,000, it would yet be very short of the necessary supply. The churches, therefore, must be large; but still, in our reformed religion it should seem vain to make a parish church larger than that all who are present can both hear and see. The Romanists, indeed, may build larger churches; it is enough if they hear the murmur of the Mass, and see the elevation of the Host; but ours are to be fitted for auditories. I can hardly think it practicable to make a single room so capacious, with pews and galleries, as to hold above 2,000 persons, and all to hear the service, and both to hear distinctly, and see the preacher. I endeavoured to effect this in building the parish Church of S. James, Westminster, which, I presume, is the most capacious, with these qualifications, that hath yet been built; and yet, at a solemn time, when the church was much crowded, I could not discern from a gallery that 2,000 were present. In this church I mention, though very broad, and the middle nave arched up, yet as there are no walls of a second order, nor lanterns, nor buttresses, but the whole roof rests upon the pillars, as do also the galleries, I think it may be found beautiful and convenient, and, as such, the cheapest of any form I could invent.
‘7. Concerning the placing of the pulpit, I shall observe a moderate voice may be heard fifty feet distant before the preacher, thirty feet on each side, and twenty behind the pulpit; and not this unless the pronunciation be distinct and equal, without losing the voice at the last word of the sentence, which is commonly emphatical, and, if obscured, spoils the whole sense. A Frenchman is heard further than an English preacher, because he raises his voice, and sinks not his last words: I mention this as an insufferable fault in the pronunciation of some of our otherwise excellent preachers, which schoolmasters might correct in the young as a vicious pronunciation, and not as the Roman orators spoke: for the principal verb is, in Latin, usually the last word; and if that be lost, what becomes of the sentence?
‘8. By what I have said, it may be thought reasonable, that the new church should be at least sixty feet broad, and ninety feet long, besides a chancel at one end, and the belfry and portico at the other.
‘These proportions may be varied; but to build more than that every person may conveniently hear and see is to create noise and confusion. A church should not be so filled with pews, but that the poor may have room enough to stand and sit in the alleys; for to them equally is the Gospel preached. It were to be wished there were to be no pews, but benches; but there is no stemming the tide of profit, and the advantage of pew-keepers; especially since by pews, in the chapel of ease, the minister is chiefly supported. It is evident these fifty churches are enough for the present inhabitants, and the town will continually grow: but it is to be hoped, that hereafter more may be added, as the wisdom of the Government shall think fit; and, therefore, the parishes should be so divided as to leave room for subdivisions, or at least for chapels of ease.
‘I cannot pass over mentioning the difficulties that may be found in obtaining the ground proper for the sites of the churches among the buildings, and the cemeteries in the borders without the town; and, therefore, I shall recite the method that was taken for purchasing in ground at the north side of S. Paul’s Cathedral, where, in some places, houses were but eleven feet distant from the fabric, exposing it to the continual dangers of fires. The houses were seventeen, and contiguous, all in leasehold of the Bishop, or Dean alone, or the Dean and Chapter, or the petty-Canons, with divers under-tenants. The first we recompensed in kind, with rents of like value for them and their successors; but the tenants in possession for a valuable consideration; which to find what it amounted to, we learned by diligent inquiry, what the inheritance of houses in that quarter were usually held at; this we found was fifteen years’ purchase at the most, and, proportionably to this, the value of each lease was easily determined in a scheme, referring to a map. These rates, which we resolved not to stir from, were offered to each; and, to cut off much debate, which it may be imagined everyone would abound in, they were assured that we went by one uniform method, which could not be receded. We found two or three reasonable men, who agreed to these terms; immediately we paid them, and took down their houses; others, who stood out at first, finding themselves in dust and rubbish, and that ready money was better, as the case stood, than to continue paying rent, repairs, and parish duties, easily came in. The whole ground at last was cleared, and all concerned were satisfied, and their writings given in.... This was happily finished without a judicatory or jury; although, in our present case, we may find it perhaps, sometimes necessary to have recourse to Parliament.’
PRIVATE HOUSES BUILT—QUEEN ANNE’S GIFTS—LAST STONE OF S. PAUL’S—WREN DEPRIVED OF HIS SALARY—HIS PETITION—‘FRAUDS AND ABUSES’—INTERIOR WORK OF S. PAUL’S—WREN SUPERSEDED—PURCHASE OF WROXHALL ABBEY—WREN’S THOUGHTS ON THE LONGITUDE—HIS DEATH—BURIAL IN S. PAUL’S—THE END.