CHAPTER VIII.

1672-1677.

BIRTH OF HIS ELDEST SON--S. STEPHEN'S, WALBROOK--S. BENNET FINK--PLANS FOR S. PAUL'S--THE EXCAVATIONS--SON CHRISTOPHER BORN--DEATH OF FAITH, LADY WREN--SECOND MARRIAGE--CITY CHURCHES--THE MONUMENT--TOMB OF CHARLES I.--REMAINS OF THE LITTLE PRINCES IN THE TOWER.

_K. Rich._ But didst thou see them dead? _Tyr._ I did, my lord. _K. Rich._ And buried, gentle Tyrrel? _Tyr._ The chaplain of the Tower hath buried them, But where, to say the truth, I do not know.

_Richard III._, Act 4, scene 3.

Early in October, 1672, Christopher Wren's eldest son was born, and baptized by the name of Gilbert, at S. Martin's-in-the-Fields, a very different-looking building from the present S. Martin's with its stately portico. Wren and his wife lived in the house in Scotland Yard, and, avoiding the uneven, difficult streets, could daily go by water, then the favourite way of transit for a Londoner, to examine and superintend his works in the city. Later on Wren built himself a little house of red bricks in the yard of the Falcon Inn at Southwark, and watched from its window the progress of S. Paul's and of his other buildings in the city.

Besides the churches already begun, three new ones were taken in hand that year. S. Mary-at-Hill[131] was only partially destroyed by the fire. Upon it Wren first tried his plan of a domed roof, and succeeded in making it, at any rate within, a beautiful little church. S. Michael's, Cornhill, of which only the tower was left standing, was rebuilt that year; its situation threw a great difficulty in the architect's way, as it could only be lit from one side; this difficulty Wren overcame and produced an interior[132] equally light and good. The tower was taken down in 1722, and rebuilt from designs of Wren's. These designs were taken from the tower of Magdalen College at Oxford, and instance Wren's power of producing a bold, rich effect in a style of architecture altogether foreign to his taste.

Perhaps the most beautiful of all Wren's churches is S. Stephen's, Walbrook, begun at this same time, and finished seven years later. The outside, cramped by its situation, and overshadowed by tall houses, is not handsome, but within, the church is as original as it is graceful and beautiful:--

'The circular dome, placed on an octagonal base supported by eight pillars, was an early, and long a favourite, mode of roofing in the East.... Wren, however, is the only European architect who availed himself of it ... he certainly has produced the most pleasing interior of any Renaissance church which has yet been erected.'[133]

So great was the fame, and such the charm of the building that when the great sculptor Canova[134] visited England, and was asked should he ever wish to return to the country? he answered, 'Yes, that I might again see S. Paul's Cathedral, Somerset House, and S. Stephen's, Walbrook.'

[_SIR ISAAC NEWTON._]

In the midst of so much work it is not wonderful that, for the moment, Wren's diligent attendance at the Royal Society slackened somewhat, though at the end of 1672 his name occurs among those of the Society who cordially welcomed Isaac Newton to their fellowship. Wren bestowed especial praise on Newton's invention of a refracting telescope. Friends they appear always to have remained, and their dispositions were not unlike, though the travels and varied experiences of Wren's early years had quickened his faculties, and prevented that entire absorption in one idea which is evident from many stories about Isaac Newton. As, for instance, when one of Newton's philosophical friends abroad--

'Sent him a curious prism, at that time a rarity in England, it was taken to the Custom House and Newton claimed it. The officers asked him to set some value upon it that they might regulate the duty. Newton, rating the prism by his own idea of its use and excellence, replied, "The value is so great I cannot ascertain it." They pressed him again to set some estimate on it, but he still replied, "I cannot say what it is worth, for the value is inestimable." The honest Custom House officers took him at his word, and made him pay an exorbitant duty for the prism, which he might have taken away upon only paying a rate according to the weight of the glass!'[135]

The Royal Society was at this time put to serious inconvenience, as more than half of the members failed in paying their weekly money. Wren, who, as might be expected, was one of those who paid most punctually, was re-elected a member of the council, and agreed to serve on a committee for this special matter.

The death of his friend and cousin, Matthew, in the summer of 1672, was a grief to him, as well as a loss to the Royal Society, of which he had been a member from its beginning. On the 20th of November, 1673, Wren received the well-earned honour of knighthood from King Charles at Whitehall. No details of any kind respecting the ceremony are to be found in the chary family record.

S. Bennet Fink, a very graceful and original composition despite the corner into which it was squeezed; and S. Olave's, Jewry, built of brick and stone with a good pinnacled stone tower, were begun at this period, and finished three years later. S. Dionysius, or, as it was commonly called, S. Dionis, Back Church Street, was one of the first completed; its Ionic eastern façade was in Wren's most classical style; the pulpit was carved by Grinling Gibbons. Its tower and steeple, according to a frequent custom of Wren's, were added some years later. S. Dionis has, alas! now been swept away, and its site, where the original church was consecrated in 1288, desecrated.[136] The beautiful little S. Bennet's has shared the same unholy fate. S. George's, Botolph Lane, built also in 1674, a handsome stone church with a vaulted roof and good oak fittings, though threatened, still fortunately survives.

[_GRINLING GIBBONS._]

Grinling Gibbons, whom Wren continually employed, was introduced to him by Evelyn, who found the young man in a cottage at Deptford carving a copy of Tintoretto's beautiful Crucifixion. Evelyn showed Wren the carving and besought him to give some employment to a man of such genius. This he gladly promised, and accordingly, many a little known city church is adorned with carvings so light and so graceful that it is hard to believe that they are cut out of wood.

Some works in stone Gibbons also did for Sir Christopher, but wood appears to have been the material he preferred. In 1674 Wren had the satisfaction of restoring Le Soeur's[137] beautiful statue of King Charles to its place at Charing Cross. In the Rebellion it had been overthrown by order of the Parliament, who directed that it should be broken up. John Rivet, a brazier in Charing Cross, purchased it, hid it in the vaults of S. Paul's, Covent Garden, and, to divert suspicion, sold bronze medals and knife-handles, professedly made from its metal. After the Restoration, he produced it intact, and, under Wren's direction, it was placed on its present pedestal, which was carved by Gibbons, whose handywork is easily recognised in the free, flowing lines of the deeply-cut carving, much as time, aided by London atmosphere, has eaten the very stone away. The poet Waller wrote an epigram[138] on its restoration, which, besides its intrinsic merit, is interesting in connection with the statue:--

That the first Charles does here in triumph ride, See his son reign where he a martyr dy'd; And people pay that rev'rence as they pass, (Which then he wanted) to the sacred brass, Is not th' effect of gratitude alone, To which we owe the statue and the stone. But heav'n this lasting monument has wrought, That mortals may eternally be taught Rebellion, though successful, is but vain, And kings so kill'd rise conquerors again: This truth the royal image does proclaim Loud as the trumpet of surviving Fame.

[_HIS FAVOURITE DESIGN._]

It was about this period that Wren rebuilt the theatre in Drury Lane, which had fallen a prey to its usual enemy, fire. It was reopened in 1674 with a play whose epilogue was written by Dryden. The 'old theatre in Salisbury Court,' as Horace Walpole calls it, was also built by Wren. During this time Sir Christopher, now formally appointed architect of S. Paul's with a modest salary of 200_l._ a year, had busied himself in designs for the future cathedral. Everyone, whether qualified or not, gave their opinion about the designs. The first, which was 'a fabrick of moderate bulk, but of good proportion, a convenient quire with a vestibule and portico, and a dome conspicuous above the houses,' was planned by Wren at a time when the Cathedral fund was very small, and the chances of increasing it appeared but slender. This design was rejected as deficient in size and grandeur. After this, in order to find out what style of building was really desired, Wren made several sketches 'merely for discourse sake,' and perceiving that the generality had set their hearts upon a large building, he designed one with which he was himself satisfied, considering it 'a design antique and well studied, conformable to the best style of Greek and Roman architecture.' The design was greatly admired by those who understood the matter, and they begged Sir Christopher to let them see it in a model.[139] Wren accordingly made a large one, apparently with his own hands, in wood, with all the intended ornaments properly carved. Its ground plan was that of a Greek cross, the choir was circular, it had a very short nave, and no aisles. Externally there was a handsome portico, one small dome immediately behind it, and over the centre of the cross a larger dome. Within it would have been as beautiful as it was original, with the eight smaller domes, not seen outside, encircling the central dome. The Duke of York on seeing the plan complained much of the absence of side oratories, such as are common in most foreign cathedrals, and insisted upon their being added. Sir Christopher knew that such a change would cramp the building and break the beauty of the design to a degree that went to his heart. He shed tears in attempting to change the Duke's opinion. The latter was, as ever, obstinate, and the change had to be made.

The outside, with the two hollow curves joining the transepts with the nave, and the two different-sized domes, would probably have been disappointing; but one speaks with diffidence, for this was Sir Christopher's favourite design, the S. Paul's which he told his son he would most cheerfully have accomplished. When the time came for working out the design, it is very likely that he would have remedied many of the defects which critical eyes now see in the model; but no such opportunity ever came. Preparations were indeed made, in May 1674, for a building after this design; but the clergy were startled by the novelty of the plan, the circular choir, and the absence of aisles, and the architect was compelled to give up his cherished scheme. Several designs, none equal to the first, were produced by Sir Christopher, the large central dome appearing in each of them. Upon this feature he had determined, even in the days before the fire, when the old pointed choir still stood.

[_THE CROWN OF LONDON._]

At length Wren grew weary of criticism and showed his designs no more to the public. King Charles decided on one,[140] and issued a warrant for its erection, stating that the duty on coal[141] amounted to a considerable sum, and saying:--

'Among the designs we have particularly pitched on one as well because we found it very artificial, proper and useful as because it was so ordered that it might be built and finished by parts.'

The east end was to be begun first. Liberty was left to Wren 'to make some variations rather ornamental than essential as from time to time he should see proper,' and the whole was left to his management.

This design is wholly unlike the present Cathedral, and is inferior to any of Wren's other buildings. 'Artificial' in the modern sense of the word, it undoubtedly is. The west end much resembles old S. Paul's as Inigo Jones left it, and is poor and flat; there is a low flat dome, then a lantern with ribbed vaulting, surmounted by a spire something like S. Bride's, but thin and ungraceful. One feels that Wren must have been disgusted with the design when finished, and could only have done such a thing at a time when his genius was rebuked and harassed by vexatious limitations and interference. Accepted, however, the design was, and Wren, provided with funds and ordered to begin, shook off the fetters which had so cramped him, and by a series of alterations, which certainly reversed the King's order, being essential rather than ornamental, he by degrees worked out the plan of the beautiful S. Paul's which is the crown of London.

No objection seems to have been raised to these changes.

He had a large staff of workmen under him, and an assistant surveyor, John Oliver, who directed the workmen, measured the masons' work, bought in materials, and examined the accounts; a clerk of the works, Laurence Spenser, who overlooked the men, saw that they did their work as directed, and made up the accounts; each of these was paid 100_l._ a year, half as much as the salary of the architect himself; a clerk of the cheque, Thomas Russell, who called over the labourers three times a day, and kept them to their business. Besides these, there was the master-mason,[142] Thomas Strong, the master-builder of S. Stephen's, Walbrook, frequently employed by Wren, and the master-carpenter, Richard Jennings; all were carefully chosen, and were devoted to Sir Christopher, whose great genius, gentle disposition, and steady equable mind made him much beloved and respected.

On June 21, 1675, the first stone of S. Paul's was laid by Sir Christopher and his master-mason, not by King Charles, as is sometimes said.[143]

In the previous year Wren had lost his son Gilbert, who was buried in S. Martin's on March 23. In the February following another son was born and baptized by the name of Christopher. This son survived his father and began the collection of letters, papers, and miscellaneous facts about the Wren family which was afterwards published under the name of 'Parentalia; or, Memoirs of the Wrens.' It is, in truth, little but a heap of materials amongst which each fact has to be sought for and its proper place ascertained.

[_EXCAVATIONS._]

It has been truly said that the accounts of the building of S. Paul's are meagre in the extreme. A little is, however, known. As Wren had foretold, there was much 'to be done in the dark;' the old foundations were not to be trusted, and immense excavations had to be made. In the course of this work, he discovered 'graves of several ages and fashions, in strata or layers of earth, one above another, from the British and Roman times.' The 'Parentalia' describes

'a row of Saxon graves, the sides lined with chalk stones, below were British graves, where were found ivory and wooden pins of a hard wood, seemingly box, about six inches long; it seems the bodies were only wrapped up and pinned in woollen shrouds, which being consumed the pins remained entire. In the same row and deeper were Roman urns intermixed.'

Below this was hard 'pot-earth,' which Wren thought would be sufficiently firm to bear the great weight about to be laid upon it, but to ascertain its depth he had dry wells dug, and found it very unequal, in one place hardly four feet; he searched lower and found loose sand, then sand and shells; he speaks of them as sea shells, but it is now thought that they were probably river; below this again hard beach, and then London clay. He took great precautions when he laid any foundations here, fearing lest the sand should slip. The bed of sand is a danger still, for if pierced by a drain or other underground works the sand might run off, leaving a hollow under the pot-earth. The Cathedral authorities are accordingly wisely jealous of any excavations near S. Paul's. When the north-east portion of the choir was reached, in digging the foundations a pit was found, from which all the pot-earth had been taken, containing many fragments of vases and urns, all of Roman pottery. This pit was a very serious difficulty, occurring as it did at the very angle of the choir.

Sir Christopher's assistants suggested to him to drive in piles of timber; but he knew that, though timber lasted well under water, yet in this case, where it would be half in dry and half in wet sand, it would rot in the course of time, and 'his endeavours were to build for eternity.' He dug down more than forty feet, till he came to the hard beach, below which was the London clay, and upon the beach built a pier of solid masonry ten feet square, till within fifteen feet of the ground, and then by turning an arch brought it level with the rest of his foundation.

The theory commonly received was that a temple of Apollo stood where Westminster Abbey now stands, and that the site of S. Paul's Cathedral was occupied by a temple of Diana. Wren, however, believed in neither legend. The temple of Apollo he thought was invented merely that the monks of Westminster might not be behind the Londoners in antiquities. In spite of the horns of stags, tusks of boars, and the like, said to have been found during former repairs of S. Paul's, in spite of an image of Diana dug up hard by and in the possession of Dr. Woodward,[144] he wrote to Bishop Atterbury[145] that he 'changed all the foundations of old S. Paul's, and rummaged all the ground thereabouts, and being very desirous to find the footsteps of such a temple, I could not discover any, and therefore can give no more credit to Diana[146] than to Apollo.'

In the September of 1675, when the work with which her husband's name is for ever connected was but little advanced, Lady Wren died, and was buried, as her son Gilbert had been, in the chancel of S. Martin's-in-the-Fields, leaving her husband with a baby son hardly seven months old. The 'Parentalia,' with characteristic carelessness, gives neither the date of her death nor the place of her burial.

[_SECOND MARRIAGE._]

No hint even is to be found of how this loss affected Sir Christopher, but whether it was from the desolate state of his home, or the helplessness of a widower left with an infant son, or from other causes, he was not long in marrying again. His second wife was Jane Fitzwilliam, daughter of the second Baron Fitzwilliam, her mother was an heiress, the daughter of Hugh Perry _alias_ Hunter, a sheriff and alderman of London. Lord Fitzwilliam died in 1643, the same year that he had succeeded to his father, and the widowed Lady Fitzwilliam died twenty-seven years later at 'Dutchy House in the Savoy,' the family house; so Jane Fitzwilliam had been some years an orphan when she was married to Sir Christopher in the Chapel Royal at Whitehall, on February 24, 1676-7.

In this year Wren rebuilt S. Magnus, London Bridge,[147] which having escaped one 'most dismal fire' in 1633, was destroyed by the Great Fire of 1666. Sir Christopher rebuilt the church with Portland stone and oak timber, adding to it a picturesque tower with a cupola and a peal of ten bells. London Bridge, then covered with little houses and shops, would, Sir Christopher foresaw, require alteration, and he, anxious that S. Magnus should not suffer when the time came, proposed to leave space by it for a footway. The churchwardens overruled him. The improvement Wren expected has since been made, and when the workmen came to make a pathway under the portico they discovered to their great surprise that Sir Christopher had made the necessary arches, though bricked up, and left them to be in readiness for the change which he foresaw, though the churchwardens of S. Magnus did not. The state of London Bridge was very unsatisfactory; constant repairs were needed, and to shoot the narrow arches and not be swamped by the fall of the water was no easy feat. Wren had a plan for saving repairs and improving the water way by wide Gothic arches, taking away every other arch, and making the two into one, which would reduce the fall to nine inches at the most. This seems to have remained a scheme only.

[_MODERN DESECRATION._]

S. Mildred's in the Poultry was also begun in this year, a small stone church with a tower and cupola. It was destroyed in 1872,[148] and the details of its removal are instructive as well as painful, and may well be contrasted with the account of the manner of removing the remains of old S. Paul's.[149]

S. Stephen's, Coleman Street, on the site of an old Jewish synagogue, is of the same date; it is a neat small church mostly built of stone, with a curious old stone carving, in high relief, of the Last Judgment, over the door leading to the churchyard.

S. Lawrence, Jewry, 'that new and cheerful pile,'[150] is a large well-proportioned building in the Corinthian style, with a tower and spire, built in the following year. It had been repaired by the parishioners in 1618, and boasted among its vicars three who had become bishops: Edward Reynolds, Bishop of Norwich, one of those who, during the Rebellion, sided strongly with the Presbyterians, and conformed at the Restoration; Dr. Seth Ward, Bishop of Exeter and Salisbury, who has been mentioned before; and Wren's other scientific friend, Dr. Wilkins, Bishop of Chester, who was buried in the chancel of S. Lawrence's Church in 1672.

S. Lawrence's possesses some excellent stone carving of fruit, possibly from Gibbons' chisel.

S. Nicholas, Coleabbey, was built this year by Sir Christopher on the site of a church so ancient that it stood some feet below the street, and was entered by steps descending down to the floor; its most recent addition was in Richard II.'s reign, though the whole building was repaired in 1630. Wren's is a well-proportioned brick and stone church with a square tower and short fat steeple. S. Mary's, Woolnoth, was only repaired by Sir Christopher; it was afterwards rebuilt entirely by his clerk and pupil, Nicholas Hawksmoor,[151] in 1719. S. Mary's, Aldermanbury, a fine bold stone church, its nave and aisles divided by well-sculptured columns; and S. Michael's, Queenhithe, belong also to this busy year. S. Michael's, standing close to the river, built of stone with plenty of space and room in it; its slender graceful spire ever beckoning to the swarming river and riverside population, might, one would have imagined, have been invaluable in zealous hands, but it has been swept away and the opportunity is lost.

[_THE MONUMENT._]

It was also in 1677 that Sir Christopher completed the column generally known to Londoners as 'the Monument.' He began it in 1671; but the work had been much hindered by the difficulty of getting blocks of Portland stone of sufficient size. There had been great debate about the ornament for the summit. Wren wished it to be a large statue, as 'carrying much dignity with it, and being more valluable in the eyes of forreigners and strangers.' It was to be fifteen feet high, cast in brass, at a cost of 1,000_l._ The expense was one reason why this was given up, and the present ornament, a flaming vase of gilt bronze, substituted. Cibber[152] carved a basso-relievo on one side, representing King Charles in a Roman costume, protecting the ruined city. The four dragons at the base were carved by Edward Pierce,[153] a sculptor and architect who frequently worked for Wren. The other three sides have Latin inscriptions, of which one is an account of the fire, accusing the _furor Papisticus_ as its cause; a brief inscription in English, lower down on the pedestal, repeats the same charge against the 'treachery and malice of the Popish faction.' Sir Christopher had written a Latin one for the column, which spoke of the fire as originating in a humble house, and briefly recounted its ravages; he added, as he was well entitled to add, that the city was rebuilt 'not with wood and mud as before, but with edifices, some brick and some stone, and adorned with such works that it was seen to rise fairer from its ruins far than before.' As he wrote, he must have given a sigh of regret to the perfection of his unused plan.

The accusation against the Romanists appealed powerfully to the inveterate prejudices of the multitude. It was accordingly insisted upon and ordered to be put up. James II. had the inscription effaced, but in William III.'s reign it was re-cut deeper than before, and so remained to justify Pope's well-known lines:--

----London's column pointing to the skies, Like a tall bully lifts the head and lies.[154]

It is a curious retribution that the Monument designed by so great an architect as Wren, to commemorate such an event as the burning of London, and the singular courage and energy of its citizens, is now more generally connected in men's mind with falsehood and calumny than with a great historical event.

The column was at first used, as Wren had intended it should be, as a place for certain experiments of the Royal Society; but the vibration of the column during the ceaseless traffic of London proved too great to allow of the experiments being successfully carried on. Evelyn, with much sense, wished that the column had been placed where the fire ended, and a 'plain lugubrious marble' where it began; and says:--

'I question not but I have the architect himself on my side, whose rare and extraordinary talent and what he has performed of great and magnificent, this column and what he is still about and is advancing under his direction, will speak and perpetuate his memory, as long as one stone remains upon another in this nation.'[155]

[_A TARDY HONOUR._]

The King had proposed to Sir Christopher a very congenial piece of work. The remains of Charles I., which had been hastily buried in S. George's Chapel at Windsor, were to be removed to what was known as the tomb-house at the east end of the chapel, re-interred there with the solemn service that had been denied to them before, and a grand tomb built over them. Lord O'Brien proposed in the House of Commons a grant of money for the purpose, and the House voted 70,000_l._ to be raised by a two months' tax. Sprat, Bishop of Rochester, preaching before the Commons on the following day, the anniversary of King Charles's death, alluded to the tardy honour done 'by that much-desired, long-expected vote.' Sir Christopher prepared designs for a splendid monument.

It was to take the form of a Rotundo with a beautiful Dome and Lantern, and a Colonnade without, like that of the Temple of Vesta at Rome. Mosaic work was to be freely used, black and white marble and gilded brass; the cupola was to be painted in fresco. In the central niche fronting the entrance was the King's monument. Four statues, emblems of heroic virtues, standing on a square plinth, and pressing underneath the prostrate figures of Rebellion, Heresy, Hypocrisy, Envy and Murder, support a large shield, on which is a statue erect of King Charles in modern armour, over his head a group of angels bearing a crown, a cross, and branches of palm. Two designs were made, one for brass work, one for marble: one design is drawn by Grinling Gibbons, whom Wren meant to employ for the carving. The other is by Wren himself, drawn with extraordinary care, in delicate pen and ink, and they yet remain with his note upon them. 'Alas! for the state of the times!--not yet erected.' The failure of his design was a great annoyance to Wren, who was most anxious to have paid this tribute to the King's memory.

Why the plan was never executed it is hard to say. Charles II. kept the designs for some time and then returned them, begging Wren to keep them carefully; but the moment for their use never arrived.

Though he was not allowed to honour King Charles, curiously enough, it fell to Wren's lot to provide a tomb for two other murdered Princes of England.

[_THE REMAINS OF THE PRINCES._]

Some repairs were being made in the Tower of London under the orders of Wren, who was at that time repairing what is known as the White Tower, one of the oldest parts of the fortress. As the workmen were removing some stairs which led from the Royal lodgings to S. John's Chapel, they came upon a wooden chest, which proved to contain the remains of two children, exactly corresponding in age and state of decay with the date of the murder of Edward V. and his brother Richard Duke of York in 1573. The place also corresponded in every respect with the traditions respecting the murder:[156] it was said to have been done in the Bloody Tower--the spot where the bones were found is but seventy yards distant; they were always said to have been buried in consecrated ground by the Priest of the Tower--the place where the remains were was just within S. John's Chapel. The discovery caused considerable interest, and was fully represented to the King, who desired that the bones should be laid, under the Surveyor's directions, in Henry VII.'s Chapel in Westminster Abbey in a white marble coffin with a suitable monument. Wren designed a pedestal and urn of white marble surmounted by twin crowns and palms. No doubt the monument accords better with the taste of the age in which it was erected than with that of the building in which it is placed, but it has an interest of its own. By the King's wish a mulberry-tree was planted on the spot where the bones were discovered, but subsequent buildings at the Tower destroyed the tree, and even its stump has perished.

FOOTNOTES:

[131] To this church and parish belongs the honourable distinction of having successfully resisted the encroachments of the railway company which recently attempted to desecrate the church. 'The City Church and Churchyard Protection Society'--alas! that any such society should be needed--which fought this battle, must have the best wishes of any biographer of Christopher Wren.

[132] The interior has been lately altered.

[133] _History of Modern Architecture._ Fergusson, p. 307.

[134] Antonio Canova, born 1757, died 1822. He had come to England to see the Elgin Marbles.

[135] _History of the Royal Society_, p. 237. Weld. The anecdote is taken from an article in an old _Gentleman's Magazine_, written professedly by one who knew Sir I. Newton.

[136] Destroyed 1876.

[137] Hubert Le Soeur was a pupil of John of Bologna; he came to England in 1630. The statue of Lord Pembroke at Oxford, and that of King Charles, which has Le Soeur's name on the horse's hoof, are all that now remain of his works.

[138] On the statue of King Charles I. at Charing Cross in the year 1674. E. Waller.

[139] The model was long preserved in what was called the Trophy Room of S. Paul's. 'It unfortunately has suffered much from neglect, decay, and the uncontrolled mischief of visitors; that which was one of its noblest features, its long stately western portico, has entirely disappeared. The model was lent to and still remains in the Architectural Exhibition at South Kensington, on condition of repairing some of its reparable parts (a condition but imperfectly fulfilled).'--_Annals of S. Paul's Cathedral_, Dean Milman, p. 40.

[140] An engraving giving a section of this very curious design is to be found at page 97 of Mr. Longman's exhaustive and interesting _Three Cathedrals dedicated to S. Paul's in London_.

[141] The fourth portion of the tax on coal granted for the public buildings of the City was given for the rebuilding of S. Paul's.

[142] Thomas was the son of Mr. Valentine Strong, a well-known master-mason of Hertfordshire; his six sons were all engaged in the same trade as himself. _Life of Sir C. Wren_, p. 316. Elmes.

[143] Sir C. Wren gave the mallet and trowel used on this occasion to the Freemasons' lodge of which he was master, then called after his name, now the 'Lodge of Antiquity, No. 21.'

[144] J. Woodward, the founder of the Cambridge Geological Professorship, was born 1665, published a series of curious geological speculations under the name of _A Natural History of the Earth_. In 1707 he published _An Account of Roman Urns and Antiquities lately dug up near Bishopsgate_, addressed to Sir C. Wren, whom, as I have said, he did not convince. Woodward was a Fellow of the Royal Society and the College of Physicians. He died 1728.

[145] Francis Atterbury, born 1662, made Dean of Westminster and Bishop of Rochester 1715; was a strong Jacobite, and was banished in 1723: died 1732.

[146] A stone altar was however found during some excavations in Foster Lane in 1830, at no great distance from the Cathedral, with an image of Diana about which there can be no misapprehension, as it closely resembles the Diana of the Louvre.--_Annals of S. Paul's_, p. 7.

[147] Jack Cade's instruction to his followers on reaching London was 'Up Fish Street, down _S. Magnus_ corner. Kill and knock down, throw them into the Thames.' _Henry VI._, part ii. act iv. scene 8.

[148] The following interesting anecdote was related to one of the Honorary Secretaries (Mr. Wright) by a member of the Society (Mr. Fytche):--'Walking one fine summer morning in June 1872 down to the Mansion House, on reaching the Poultry I was surprised to see a man on the top of the tower of S. Mildred's Church hammering away at the stones with a crowbar; so, finding the door open, I went up the stairs of the tower and said to my friend of the crowbar, "Why, you are pulling the church down!" "Ay," says he, "it's all to be down and carted away by the end of July." "I suppose it's going to be rebuilt elsewhere!" "_Built_ anywhere? No; my master has _bought_ it." "Who is your master?" "Don't you know him? Mr. So-and-So, the great contractor." "What's he going to do with it?" "Do with it? Why, he's twenty carts and forty horses to lead it away to his stoneyard, and he's going to grind it up to make Portland cement!" So I asked him of the crowbar to show me round the church. "Would your master sell the stones instead of grinding 'em up?" I asked. "Sell 'em? Yes, he'll sell his soul for money!" So I made an appointment for his master to come up to the Langham Hotel next morning, and we agreed about the purchase--he to deliver the stones at a wharf on the Thames, and they were brought down in barges and landed at the head of a canal on the east coast of Lincolnshire, and are now lying in a green field near my house, called S. Katherine's Garth, from an old Priory of S. Katherine, which formerly stood there, and which I hope some day to rebuild as my domestic chapel.'--_Report of the City Church and Churchyard Protection Society_, 1880.

[149] _Vide supra_, p. 186-7.

[150] Evelyn's _Diary_, May 28, 1682.

[151] Nicholas Hawksmoor, born the year of the fire, became Wren's pupil in 1683 and helped him in many of his works. Hawksmoor built several churches under Queen Anne's Act; they are original, but heavy, and not always in good taste. He died 1736.

[152] Caius Cibber, born 1630. The statues of Melancholy and Madness at Bedlam were his greatest works: died about 1700.

[153] He did much of the work of S. Clement Danes under Wren's directions, and made a bust of Sir Christopher, now at All Souls: died 1698.

[154] _Moral Essays_, Ep. iii.

[155] _Of Medals_, p. 162, ed. 1697. Evelyn.

[156] For an interesting account of these see _The Tower of London_, by Lord de Ros, p. 417.