CHAPTER II.

FROM THE ACCESSION OF DEAN COLET TO THE FIRE

(1505-1666).

With the Florentine studies of John Colet, remarks J.R. Green, a purer

Christianity awoke throughout Teutonic Europe. Born in 1466, a son of

a distinguished citizen who was twice Lord Mayor, after seven years at

Oxford he travelled with sufficient means to France and Italy, and

whether at home or abroad studied in particular Greek. "The knowledge

of Greek seems to have had one almost exclusive end for him,"[21]

continues Green; "Greek was the key by which he could unlock the

Gospels and the New Testament." Discarding the traditional

mediaevalisms, his faith rested simply on a vivid realisation of the

Person of Christ; and whilst his active and lucid intellect exhibit

him in many lights, everything else was subordinate to his faith.

Returning to England, he lectured gratuitously at Oxford on St. Paul's

Epistles, and formed a friendship with Erasmus. So Erasmus became the

earnest pupil of an earnest master. Taking priests' orders, he was

appointed Dean of St. Paul's and Prebendary of Mora (1505), and

established a reputation as a preacher. In those days, and until

Wolsey as legate gave the preference to Westminster, the two Houses

held their sessions in the Chapter House and Nave of Old St. Paul's,

as the opening ceremony still reminds us. Preaching at the opening in

1512, he startled Convocation by declaring, "All that is in the Church

is either the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes, or the pride of

life." In vain his bishop, Richard Fitz-James, endeavoured to

establish a charge of heresy: the Primate Warham and young Henry

VIII. both admired and supported the Dean; and the Dean continued to

show his preference for the New Testament in the original Greek rather

than for the prevalent nonsense of the mediaeval schoolmen.

[Illustration: DEAN COLET.

_After the portrait in Holland's "Heroologia," 1620._[22]]

Where the consent of his Chapter was necessary, Colet's efforts at

reform were obstructed. The profanation of the sacred building he

could not stop: buying, selling, and promenading in the nave continued

the order of the day. The Chapter would have nothing to do with his

new statutes, but elsewhere he was more successful. The Chancellor's

School was not in accordance with his views; and in spite of Bishop,

Chancellor, and Chapter, out of his own means he built ST. PAUL'S

SCHOOL, towards the east end of the churchyard, and endowed it;

and leaving his colleagues out in the cold, left the management to the

Mercers' Company. His theology was manifest in the image over the

gate. It was neither Erkenwald nor Uncumber: it was not the Virgin or

even St. Paul himself, but the Child Jesus with the simple and

pregnant inscription, "Hear ye Him." The severity of his discipline,

although a Pauline parent or pupil would now resent it, was adapted to

those rough and hardy times, when people rose early and worked hard,

and when corporal punishment was general and often, and irrespective

of sex or age. William Lyly, an Oxford student who had studied in the

East, was his first high master. As the original St. Paul's School

became eventually absorbed in Colet's, this latter--now removed from

its old home to stately buildings on the Hammersmith Road, and

possessing (1899), as a high master, a worthy successor of

Lyly[23]--is in one sense a new foundation of Colet's, yet in another

is also a continuation of that venerable foundation under the charge

of the Chancellor. Looked at in this latter aspect, it may assert an

antiquity almost as great as St. Peter's, York, which claims--and not

without reason--to be the senior boys' school in the country. Colet so

looked forward to the different requirements of different ages that

his statutes did not tie his school down to any cut and dried course

of study; but let us hope place will always be found for the Greek

Testament. What are we to think of the preacher who, while denouncing

war, so pricked the conscience of Henry VIII. that the king sent to

consult him? What of the Bible student who thought that the story of

Creation was an allegory, and intended to teach the ignorant

Israelites that the one God had created everybody and everything? What

of the reformer who went beyond Erasmus in denouncing the profane

excesses perpetrated in the name of religion at the shrine of Becket

at Canterbury? Colet died of the "sweating sickness" at the early age

of fifty-three, in 1519; and it is idle to speculate on his action had

he lived until the breach with Rome. His monument in the south aisle

of the choir perished in the Fire; and in the new Renaissance

cathedral a second might well be erected to the memory of this great

leader of the Renaissance in theology and learning, the greatest among

many great occupants of the Dean's stall.

[Illustration: TOMB OF JOHN COLET, D.D., DEAN OF ST. PAUL'S.

_After Hollar._]

=Reformation Principles Opposed.=--The still smouldering doctrines of

Wycliffe were now fanned into a flame; and Wolsey endeavoured to

extinguish them without having resort to the stake Tyndal's New

Testament, translated into English in 1526 at Worms, must have been

speedily smuggled across the Channel. On the Shrove Tuesday of 1527

Wolsey attended St. Paul's, accompanied by some six-and-thirty

prelates, mitred abbots, and other high dignitaries. Barnes of

Cambridge, formerly a friar, and five others, "Stillyard men," were

brought from the Fleet prison in penitential array, Barnes carrying a

heavy taper, the rest faggots. Testaments and other forbidden books

were in baskets by a fire in the nave. On their knees the penitents

recanted; while Barnes declared that he deserved to be burnt. Fisher

again preached; and the six pardoned offenders were taken inside the

rails and made to walk round the fire, after which the books were

burnt--by no means a solitary literary conflagration.

=Reformation Principles Advanced.=--In order to raise money, Henry

declared that as the clergy had acquiesced in the authority of Wolsey

as legate, and as such acquiescence was contrary to the Statute of

Provisors, all these benefices were forfeit to the Crown, and a heavy

subsidy must be paid as ransom. The clergy of the diocese of London,

considering that the arch-offender against this Statute was Henry

himself, and next to him the prelates and great mitred abbots,

attended a meeting at the Chapter House, and were assisted by a number

of their parishioners. John Stokesley, Bishop designate,[24] who

presided, and who had to see the assessment made, could neither keep

order nor gain his point: "We never meddled, let the bishops and

abbots pay." Fifteen priests and four parishioners were imprisoned,

and, of course, Henry gained his point.

Throughout 1534 the deanery was vacant. The Bishop was directed to see

that the appointed preachers at Paul's Cross taught that the Pope had

no spiritual authority of divine right. Here as elsewhere it is

remarkable with what ease and unanimity the papal jurisdiction based

on the Petrine claims was done away with. No dignitary--and Bonner

that year became Prebendary of Chiswick--no priest of humbler rank

connected with the cathedral, either resigned or got into trouble on

this important doctrinal question; although the execution of those two

earnest men, John Fisher and Thomas More, who opposed the divorce and

the abrogation of the papal claims, was followed by a pronouncement of

excommunication, deposition, and an interdict on the part of Paul III.

Yet at St. Paul's, nineteen Anabaptists--a sect whom no one

pitied--were sentenced to be burnt, and of these a man and a woman

suffered at Smithfield, and the remainder in the provinces. The next

year (1536) Hugh Latimer, as earnest and good a bishop as Fisher and

his exact opposite, preaching before Convocation, denounced abuses in

the spirit of an age which did not hesitate to call a spade a spade.

"Lift up your heads, brethren, and look about with your eyes; spy what

things are to be reformed in the Church of England."

But more dramatic and more effective than the sonorous ring of honest

Hugh's eloquence, was the sermon at the Cross (February 14, 1538) of

Bishop John Hisley, Fisher's successor at Rochester, and formerly

Prior of the Dominicans in London. His subject was an ingenious piece

of mechanism, called the Rood of Grace, from Boxley in his diocese, a

source of revenue from devotees. Now, this product of the mechanic's

art does not seem to have had any resemblance to a Rood--_i.e._, a

large cross or crucifix--but rather was shaped like a big doll; and

Hisley demonstrated to his intelligent congregation of citizens how no

inherent power, but a man standing inside, with the aid of wires,

caused the rood to bow, and move its eyes and mouth.[25]

The exposure was followed next St. Bartholomew's eve by the removal of

the Great Rood at the north door, and those of our Lady of Grace and

of St. Uncumber. This last saint is supposed to be a foreign princess

of early times, styled also in England St. Wilgeforte. A peck of oats

was a favourite offering at her shrine in St. Paul's by those who

wished for favours; and according to Sir Thomas More she owed her

popular name because wives unhappy in their union so offered in the

hope that she would _uncumber_ (_i.e._, disencumber) them of their

husbands. The disgrace of Thomas Cromwell put a temporary stop to

actions of this nature; and we find Gardiner at the Cross denouncing

both Rome and Luther. We further find Barnes, our quondam penitent,

amongst those who replied from the same famous pulpit, and likening

himself and Gardiner to two fighting cocks, only that the _garden_

cock lacked good spurs. The result was that Barnes ended his chequered

career at the stake, as did others.

=Edward VI.=--So long as Henry lived it was dangerous to uphold either

the Petrine claims or the doctrine of justification by faith alone, and

it was equally dangerous to oppose the doctrine of transubstantiation;

but the Council of the child king would not have this latter doctrine,

and was distinctly Protestant. The endowments of the chantries had been

transferred to the Court of Augmentations in the autumn of 1545 (37

Henry VIII. c. 4) for the benefit of the king; but when at the

beginning of 1547 Edward succeeded his father, St. Paul's still

enjoyed her own. Somerset and his Protestant council not only wanted

the property, but objected to masses for the dead, and a renewing Act

was quickly passed, Edward's name taking his father's place. So went

chantries and _obits_ into the royal coffers, the list in Dugdale, as

returned to the Court, filling ten folio pages; while but little

commiseration was felt for the hard lot of these illiterate chaplains

deprived of their livelihood. And this was not all. Besides any

remaining roods and crucifixes, altars were demolished, tombs wrecked,

plate, jewels, vestments and frontals sold. Elaborate gold and silver

embroidered work found its way to Spanish cathedrals, and up to a short

time ago was reported to be still there.[26] Pardon Haugh Chapel was

desecrated, and the bones carted away to Finsbury; the Chapter House

cloisters went to build Somerset House. The dean, William May, was an

advanced Protestant; but so was not his bishop, Bonner. Bonner preached

at the Cross upholding transubstantiation, and was deprived and

imprisoned. It is to the credit of his successor, Ridley, that he

supported Bonner's mother and sister at Fulham; "Our mother Bonner"--he

was unmarried--taking the head of his table. Yet Ridley was one of the

judges at St. Paul's who sent the Anabaptist woman Joan Bucher to the

stake for heresy. During the first year or two of this reign, complains

Dean Milman, "Sunday after Sunday the Cathedral was thronged, not with

decent and respectable citizens, but with a noisy rabble, many of them

boys, to hear unseemly harangues on that solemn rite" [the Sacrament].

Ridley, after his translation (1550) restored comparative order, and

remained bishop long enough to witness the introduction of the Second

Prayer Book.

=Mary Tudor.=--When poor Edward came to his untimely end, Ridley sided

with the faction of Jane, and preached at the Cross, declaring both

Mary and Elizabeth illegitimate. For this he has been much censured;

but so far as the two princesses went--of course this would not make

Jane next of kin--he was but upholding the decisions of Ecclesiastical

Courts. In spite of any weakness in her title--and we have seen how

her mother had been married to Arthur at St. Paul's--Mary was

proclaimed, the bells rung, the Lords went in procession to hear _Te

Deum_ chanted; Bonner went back, and Dean May was replaced by John

Feckenham. Yet Mary's party by no means had everything their own way.

Gilbert Bourne, Prebendary of Wedland, who had retained his benefice

throughout the late reign and was now Chaplain to the Queen, preaching

at the Cross, was rudely interrupted with cries and throwing up of

caps; and had it not been for two of his brother canons, John Rogers

of St. Pancras and John Bradford of Cantlers, and others, who

conducted him in safety to the adjacent schoolroom, matters might have

gone ill with Mary's champion. Gardiner recanted his former heterodoxy

concerning the papal supremacy in a sermon; and Pole appeared as

Legate. Ridley, Rogers, and Bradford were amongst those who suffered

at the stake, while May escaped.

Of course the old services were reintroduced; and we turn from grave to

gay in a record of one of these revived functions. A doe was offered on

the Conversion and a buck on the Commemoration of St. Paul, both in

connection with some quaint old-world land tenure. Our records tell us

that Bonner wore his mitre, and the Chapter their copes, with garlands

of roses on their heads. The buck--it was the Commemoration--was

brought to the high altar, and at some time and place not exactly

defined but within the choir, was slain; and the head, severed and

raised on a pole, was borne before the processional cross to the west

door. Here a horn was blown, and other horns in different parts of the

City answered.[27]

=Elizabeth.=--After the death of Mary, as the diocese of London had

been the chief sufferer from the persecutions, and as the excitement

in the City ran very high, the sermons at the Cross were for a time

wisely discontinued. The Primate Pole, the last Romanist at Canterbury

and the last Legate openly accredited to an English sovereign, and

many of his suffragans likewise, died about the same time; and it was

left for Bonner to preside over a thin Upper House.

What was to be done with the bishop? To allow him to continue in his

high office was tantamount to a grave scandal to religion, and his

person was not safe from the fury of the populace. He was replaced by

Edmund Grindal, and spent the remaining ten years of his life chiefly

in the security of the Marshalsea, without any undue vigour or

harshness. Mary's first dean, Feckenham, had been made abbot of the

resuscitated regular foundation of Westminster, and his successor was

quietly ejected in favour of the restored May, whilst a few of the

other dignitaries lost their stalls. The Epistle and Gospel were first

read in English, and eventually the Prayer Book was resumed; but the

changes were made gradually; and, considering the provocation, no

vindictive spirit was displayed.

In June, 1561, the beautiful spire was destroyed by fire caused by

lightning or by a plumber's neglect, and the Chapter House seriously

injured. We have no trustworthy plates prior to this fire, and the

various estimates about the height of the spire and other matters are

anything but infallible. Service was held at St. Gregory's, and the

roof and other parts restored at a cost of L6,700, but the

architecture was never the same afterwards. Of course the disappointed

Romanists attributed the disaster to the Divine anger, and Bishop

Pilkington, of Durham, preaching next Sunday at the Cross, to the

still continued desecration.

It is difficult for us to understand why this desecration was allowed

to go on. A pillory was indeed set up outside near the bishop's

palace, and a man convicted of fighting nailed there by his ears,

which were afterwards cut off; but this must have been an offence

exceptionally outrageous. "What swearing is there," says Dekker, "what

shouldering, what jostling, what jeering, what biting of thumbs to

beget quarrels." At Bishop Bancroft's Visitation a verger complained

that colliers with coal-sacks, butchers' men with meat, and others

made the interior a short cut. Bishop Corbet, of Norwich, wrote:

"When I past Paules, and travelled in that Walke

Where all our Brittaine-sinners sweare and talke,

Ould Harry-ruffians, bankrupts, suthe-sayers,

And youth, whose cousenage is as ould as theirs."

The choir boys even during service time were on the alert for "spur

money," a fine due for the wearing of spurs. "Paul's Walk" (the

central aisle of the nave), said Bishop Earle, of Salisbury, "is the

land's epitome.... It is the general mart of all famous lies."

Shakespeare was thinking of his own time, as well as of the time of

Henry IV. (2 Henry IV., act 1, scene 2) when he makes Falstaff engage

Bardolph, out of place and standing at the servant-men's pillow to be

hired. John Evelyn called the cathedral a den of thieves. Before, we

have mentioned that this abuse existed in mediaeval times; the above

authorities show that it still went on right up to the Fire. Doctrine

might be purified, and rites reformed; Paul's Walk was neither

purified nor reformed.

John Felton nailed the Bull of Pius V. excommunicating and deposing

Elizabeth (_Regnans in Excelsis_) to the bishop's gate at night (May

15, 1570), and was hung on a gallows hard by. We pass on from this,

and from Elizabeth's "tuning of the pulpit" and various other matters,

to the Armada. By September some of the captured flags were displayed

on high outside, and waved over the preacher at the Cross. The last

Sunday in November was appointed for the State Thanksgiving, Aylmer

being bishop and Nowell dean. The Queen was driven in a chariot drawn

by four white horses. Bishop John Piers, of Salisbury, the Almoner,

was the preacher. His sermon has not come down, but the Form of Prayer

has--"Turning the destruction they intended against us upon their own

head." At the conclusion, the Queen remained in the City to dine with

the bishop.

After the death of the great Queen, the leading conspirators in the

Gunpowder Plot[28] were executed outside the West Front. John King,

Dean of Christ Church, styled by James "the _king_ of preachers," was

consecrated bishop in 1611; and the next year Bartholomew Leggatt was

condemned as a heretic in the Consistory Court, and burnt at

Smithfield; and a month later Edward Wightman suffered a like fate at

Lichfield. But the Marian persecutions had made all good citizens sick

of such sights, and henceforth, says Fuller, the king yielding to

public opinion, "politically preferred that heretics, though

condemned, should silently and privately waste themselves away in

prison."

=Inigo Jones.=--A certain Master John Farley agitated in favour of the

decaying and neglected fabric, and King James attended service in

state to hear his favourite preacher, the bishop, plead for

restoration from an appropriate text chosen by the king himself (March

26, 1620). After the service came a banquet at the bishop's palace,

and after the banquet a meeting; and a Royal Commission was appointed

before the end of the year on which the Lord Mayor was the first

person named. Amongst other commissioners was Inigo Jones, Surveyor of

the Royal Works. He had studied in Italy and was an enthusiastic

student of the Italian Renaissance. Unfortunately the public was

anything but enthusiastic, and only a small sum was contributed, which

went in the purchase of stone. Matters came to a complete standstill;

and shortly prior to his assassination the elder Villiers is reported

to have stolen part of the stone for a watergate for his new town

house.

[Illustration: INIGO JONES' PORTICO.

_After Hollar._]

The Commission died with the king, and Laud, becoming bishop,

persuaded Charles to issue a new one. This time a handsome sum was

collected, and work was commenced. As regards the exterior, the nave

and west sides of the two transepts were cased throughout, and some

repairs made to the east end.[29] The chief alteration in the interior

was the adornment and restoration of the choir screen, at the expense

of Sir Paul Pindar, and with the laudable object of putting an end to

desecration. Inigo Jones added a noble classical portico to the West

End as a successor to Paul's Walk. We forgive the lack of harmony with

the Norman nave, when we recall the truly religious motive.

But evil days for the cathedral were approaching. In the House of

Commons (February 11, 1629), Oliver Cromwell, Member for Huntingdon

town, made his maiden speech in a Grand Committee on Religion. He

complained that Dr. Alablaster had preached flat Popery at Paul's

Cross, and that the Doctor's bishop, Neile of Winchester, would not

have it otherwise.[30] Alablaster was High Church, and the Third

Parliament of Charles was not.

=The Civil War.=--The outbreak of the Civil War put an end to the

Commission, and the moneys were confiscated.[31] The Long Parliament

acquired the supremacy in the City, and from 1643 Inigo Jones ceased

to act as surveyor, dying before the Restoration. The whole staff was

expelled, and their revenues sequestrated; and Dr. Cornelius Burgess

was appointed preacher, some of the more eastern bays of the choir

being walled in by a brick partition as his chapel or conventicle. The

chief fault to be found with Burgess is that he was out of place in a

cathedral, otherwise there is much to be said in his favour. Even in

those times, when religious fanaticism went mad, he behaved with

discretion, and courageously headed the petition of London ministers

against the execution of the king. Hugh Peters figures in the crypt,

and other parts were assigned as meeting-houses. It is better to pass

over as quickly as may be the behaviour of the soldiery and populace.

"Paul's Cathedral," says Carlyle, "is now a Horseguard; horses stamp

in the Canons' stalls there [but the choir was mainly reserved for

Burgess and his sermons], and Paul's Cross itself, as smacking of

Popery ... was swept altogether away, and its leaden roof melted into

bullets, or mixed with tin for culinary pewter."[32] Its very name,

the Cross, was against it; and thus fell, never to be restored, the

most famous pulpit in England, which through successive generations

had been part and parcel of English history. Carlyle also tell us that

Trooper Lockyer, of Whalley's Horse, "of excellent parts and much

beloved," was shot in the churchyard for mutiny, "amid the tears of

men and women."[33]

Monuments which had escaped earlier vandals were now defaced and

destroyed; the scaffolding was seized; part of the roof on the south

side fell in, and the lead was used for water-pipes. The new portico

was hacked about and turned into stalls for wares, and, in a word,

Inigo Jones' work more than undone. Other doings of the soldiery are

unfit for publication.[34]

=The Restoration.=--Juxon was translated to Canterbury, and the

munificent and much-abused Gilbert Sheldon received London, only in

turn to succeed Juxon again three years later. At the beginning of the

Civil War the deanery had become vacant, and Richard Steward

designated for the vacancy. It was an empty appointment, and was

afterwards changed for another of a like kind, and Matthew Nicolas

became nominally dean. This preferment took actual effect from the

summer of 1660, when Nicolas was installed dean and prebendary of

Caddington Major, such of the other dignitaries as survived resuming

their stalls, and vacancies were filled up. Another bay was added to

the Burgess conventicle, and the cathedral services were resumed. But

the sad condition of the fabric called for action, and in 1663 another

Commission was appointed, and CHRISTOPHER WREN appointed

surveyor. Taking example from his uncle's cathedral at Ely, he

suggested an enlargement of the area at the junction of the four

members of the cross, and subscriptions were raised.

=The Plague.=--There is a gap in the subscription list after March,

1665: the pestilence was already at work. As the summer advanced its

ravages were intensified; and the City, fortunate in escaping earlier

attacks, suffered so severely that the pest-houses proved

insufficient; and Harrison Ainsworth is responsible for a story which

may probably be depended on in its main outlines. The Lord Mayor and

City authorities, in conjunction with the College of Physicians,

obtained the consent of Dean Sancroft (the second from Nicolas) and

his chapter for the conversion of the cathedral into a lazar-house;

and a meeting was held in the Chapter House, at which the Primate

Sheldon was present. Sheldon employed himself, co-operating with the

Lord Mayor, in making provision for the victims. "Chapels and

shrines," says Ainsworth, "formerly adorned with rich sculptures and

costly ornaments, but stripped of them at times when they were looked

upon as idolatrous and profane, were now occupied by nurses,

chirurgeons and their attendants; while every niche and corner was

filled with surgical instruments, phials, drugs, poultices, foul rags

and linen."[35] After its chequered career, Old St. Paul's was

destined to be used last of all as a hospital.

=The Fire.=--The house and Navy office of Samuel Pepys were in

Seething Lane, Crutched Friars, near where Fenchurch Street Station

now is. About three in the morning of Sunday, September 2, 1666,

Samuel and his wife were called by their servant Jane, who told them

of a fire visible in the south-west towards London Bridge. After

looking out, not thinking it a great matter, the couple returned to

bed; but getting up at seven Pepys heard a far worse account, and

instead of attending morning service went to the Tower, and called on

his neighbour Sir John Robinson, the Lieutenant. Robinson told him

that the house of Faryner, baker to the king, in Pudding Lane had just

caught fire, that Fish Street was in flames, and the church of St.

Magnus destroyed. These were near the north end of London Bridge, as

the Monument and St. Magnus both remind us.

The origin of the Fire Pepys learnt later (February 24, 1667).

Faryner's people had occasion to light a candle at midnight; they went

as usual into their bakehouse to light it, but as the fire had gone

out, had to seek elsewhere. This striking a light in an unusual place

by Faryner, his son and daughter, is asserted to have been, somehow

and all unknown to them, the origin of the Fire. "Which is," says

Pepys, "a strange thing, that so horrid an effect should have so mean

and uncertain a beginning." About two in the morning, when the family

were upstairs and asleep again, the choking sensation of smoke woke

them up, just in time to escape and tell the tale.

[Illustration: ST. PAUL'S IN FLAMES.

_Originally engraved by Hollar for the title of Dean (afterwards

Archbishop) Sancroft's sermon on the Great Fire._]

There was a drought, and the flames spread on their mission of

devastation, assisted by a breeze. St. Paul's and most of the hundred

City churches were not likely to be used for worship that morning. "To

see the churches all filling with goods by people who themselves

should have been quietly there at the time." But service was held as

usual at the Abbey; and just about sermon time, a newly elected king's

scholar, Taswell, noticing a stir and commotion--he was standing by

the pulpit steps--ascertained the cause. The news had spread that the

City was in flames. Like most boys the prospect of something exciting

coincided with his desire to escape a long sermon, so he hastened

outside in time to see four boats on the river, the occupants of which

had escaped in blankets. Let us hope that as he was not fully

admitted, he escaped Busby's birch. All through the Sunday St. Paul's

was safe--the distance from Pudding Lane was a little over half a

mile--and even the east end of Lombard Street was intact. The

parishioners of St. Gregory and St. Faith, lulled into a false sense

of security, remained confident that even though the conflagration

spread westward, and the surrounding houses caught fire, the flames

would not leap across the vacant space of churchyard; and the

booksellers accordingly began to store their goods in St. Faith's as

though the crypt were a fireproof safe.[36] So it might possibly have

been, and in spite of sparks, had the distracted Lord Mayor been firm

enough to prevent the storing of books in the churchyard, and had the

cathedral roof been in good repair. The flames gradually encircled the

churchyard; the goods there took fire, and the flames caught the end

of a board placed on the roof to keep out the wet. The Nemesis of

neglect!

Our young friend Taswell first saw the flame at eight o'clock on the

Tuesday evening at Westminster. It broke out at the top of St. Paul's

Church, almost scorched up by the violent heat of the air and

lightning too, and before nine blazed so conspicuous "as to enable me

to read very clearly a 16mo. edition of Terence, which I carried in my

pocket."

Pepys corroborates as to the day "Paul's is burned and all Cheapside,"

writing of Tuesday, September 4th; and under the same date, Evelyn

adds: "The stones of St. Paul's flew like grenades, the melting lead

running down the streets in a stream, and the very pavements glowing

with a fiery redness, so as no horse or man was able to tread on them,

_and the demolition had stopped all the passages, so that no help

could be applied_, the eastern wind still more impetuously driving the

flames forward." By Wednesday night the central section of the City

was so burnt out that Pepys walked through Cheapside and Newgate

market. "It is a strange thing," he remarks, "to see how long the time

did look since Sunday." "Sad sight," he adds next day, "to see how the

river looks: no houses nor church near it." Friday, the 7th, early: "A

miserable sight of Paul's Church with all the roofs fallen in, and the

body of the quire fallen into St. Fayth's; Paul's School also, Ludgate

and Fleet Street."

We will conclude this with some more extracts from the evidence of

Pepys. On the next Sunday, when it is interesting to observe the

drought came to an end, he attended service twice, probably at St.

Olave's, Hart Street, Mark Lane, in the neighbourhood of Crutched

Friars. In the morning "Our parson made a melancholy but good sermon;

and many and most in the church cried, specially the women. The

church mighty full; but few of fashion, and most strangers. To church

again, and there preached Dean Harding [Nicolas Hardy, of Rochester];

but methinks a bad, poor sermon, though proper for the time; nor

eloquent in saying at this time that the City is reduced from a large

folio to a decimo-tertio." The phrase "most strangers" is not

surprising, as besides St. Paul's, some eighty-five parish churches

were in ashes, including two without the walls but inside the

Liberties. Our last extract is under date 12th November following, and

illustrates how such remains as had hitherto escaped desecration were

treated in the general disorder. Bishop Braybroke's efforts at reform

have been already acknowledged: his tomb was behind the high altar

towards the east. "In the Convocation House Yard [apparently the space

within the Chapter House Cloisters] did there see the body of Robert

Braybroke, Bishop of London, that died in 1404. He fell down in the

tomb out of the great church into St. Fayth's this late fire, and is

here seen his skeleton with the flesh on; but all tough and dry like a

spongy dry leather or touchwood, all upon his bones. His head turned

aside. A great man in his time, and Lord Chancellor. And now exposed

to be handled and derided by some, though admired for its duration by

others. Many flocking to see it."

Old St. Paul's, then, suffered the fate of its predecessors in the

first week of September, 1666. By the Friday the conflagration had so

far exhausted itself that Pepys was able to walk from Paul's Wharf to

the churchyard. The City within the Walls was well-nigh burnt out, and

of the eighty-three parish churches consumed only forty-eight were

rebuilt; and these with the thirteen untouched left accommodation more

than sufficient for the surrounding population. Our regret for the

cathedral would have been greater, had this magnificent monument of

mediaeval genius--probably of its kind as fine as any in the

world--been capable of a conservative restoration: it is to be feared

that neglect, the destroyer, and the restorer had amongst them

rendered this task well-nigh impossible.

So far as existing authorities guide us, it remains to describe the

architecture.[37]

FOOTNOTES:

[21] "Short History," pp. 298, 299. Green says, "The awakening of a

rational Christianity."

[22] See Dr. Lupton's "Life of Colet," 1887.

[23] When I was living in the parish of Kensington, St. Paul's School

was, as I believe it still is, _facile princeps_.

[24] Assuming that the date of the meeting from Hall's _Chronicle_ is

correctly printed in Milman, November 7, 1530.

[25] "Chapters in the History," p. 169. Milman (p. 202) adds that the

hearers pulled the doll to pieces. The dean is made to say "Ridley,

now bishop of Rochester"; but Ridley was bishop 1547-1550, as Milman

elsewhere implies (p. 211).

[26] Milman, p. 216.

[27] My authorities for this well-nigh incredible story are in "St.

Paul's and Old City Life," p. 234.

[28] "Plot" I must continue to call it, with all due deference to

certain modern apologists.

[29] Horace Walpole (quoted in Longman, p. 69) says that Inigo Jones

renewed the sides with "very bad Gothic." Assuming the accuracy of the

prints in Dugdale, it is difficult to see where the Gothic comes in.

[30] Carlyle's "Cromwell," vol i., chap. iv.

[31] There is some confusion as to receipts and expenditure. I take

Dugdale to mean that under the Charles commission L101,000 was raised,

and L35,000 spent; but it seems uncertain whether we are to include

Sir Paul Pindar's liberality in this sum. Dean Milman estimates that

only L17,000 was confiscated. The enormous cost of the army caused a

chronic deficit.

[32] "Cromwell," vol ii., part v.: The Levellers.

[33] Ibid. Friday, April 27, 1649.

[34] "Gleanings," p. 283.

[35] "Old St. Paul's," chap. v. I have found no corroboration for this

interesting incident related by Ainsworth in detail.

[36] Yet the vacant space was in many places very narrow, and the

bishop's palace was actually connected with the south-east end of the

cathedral.

[37] My quotations from Taswell and Evelyn are taken from Milman,

chap. xv. I cannot explain Taswell's mention of lightning. Some assert

that St. Paul's caught fire on the Monday.

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