HISTORICAL MEMORIES OF THE TUDOR PERIOD.
_Good Dean Colet_--_Accession of Henry VIII._--_Papal Favour_
--_Cardinal Wolsey at St. Paul's_--_Bishop Fisher's Preaching at
Paul's Cross_--_Fall of Wolsey_--_Alienation of the King from the
Pope_--_The English Bible in the Cathedral_--_Edward VI._
--_Ridley's Strong Protest against the Images_--_Progress of the
Reformed Doctrines_--_Somerset's Evil Deeds_--_Destruction of the
Cloisters_--_Re-establishment of the Roman Mass under Mary_
--_Cardinal Pole at St. Paul's_--_The Lord Mayor's Proclamation_
--_Alienation of the Nation from Romanism_--_Death of Mary and
Accession of Elizabeth_--_The Reformed Liturgy Restored_--_Growth
of Puritanism_--_Destruction of the Steeple by Lightning_
--_Continued Irreverence_--_Retrospect, the Tudor Monuments._
It seems fitting that we should open the chapter of a new era in the
history of St. Paul's with the name of its most famous Dean, a great,
wise, good man. His name was John Colet. He was born in London, in
the year 1466, within three months of his famous friend, Erasmus. His
father, Sir Henry Colet, was twice Lord Mayor, one of the richest
members of the Mercers' Company. John, who was his eldest son, had ten
brothers and eleven sisters, all by the same mother, who outlived
the last of them. The young man was presented to livings (it was no
unusual thing then) before he took Orders, and gave himself to
study, both mathematical and classical, and in his zeal for learning
travelled much abroad, where he saw much of ecclesiastical life,
which startled him greatly. Returning, at length, to England, he was
ordained at Christmas, 1497, went to Oxford, and began to lecture with
great power on the Epistle to the Romans. It must be remembered that
this was the epoch when the fall of Constantinople had driven the
Greek scholars westward, the epoch of the revival of "the new
learning" in Europe, the discrediting of the old scholastic philosophy
which was now worn out and ready to vanish away. Colet stands before
us then as the representative of the new learning in England, and as
keen to reform the abuses in the Church which were terrifying all
earnest and thoughtful men. He carried on his lectures with such
energy that his lecture-room was crowded, the most distinguished
tutors there being among his audience. And one day there came the
great Erasmus, who had heard of him, and from the day of their first
meeting they were fast friends for life. In 1504, Henry VII. made
Colet Dean of St. Paul's, and he showed at once that he had lost none
of his zeal. He carried on his lectures in the cathedral and preached
constantly, and another warm friend made now was Sir Thomas More,
who earnestly helped him in his strenuous endeavours to improve the
cathedral statutes, to reform abuses, and to increase the preaching
power. He was a rich man, and in 1509 he employed much of his
wealth--about £40,000 present value--in the foundation of St. Paul's
School. He wrote some simple precepts for the guidance of masters and
scholars, and drew up prayers and an English version of the Creed. He
appointed William Lilly first master, and called on Linacre to write
a Latin grammar. The school became famous; it was burnt down in the
Fire, rebuilt in 1670, and removed to Hammersmith in 1884. It is not
to be wondered at that many of the churchmen of the day regarded Colet
as a most dangerous innovator. Complaints were made to Archbishop
Warham that he was favouring the Lollards, which was absolutely
untrue. He would in all probability, had he lived, have been found
on the same side as More and Fisher, that is, intensely desirous to
preserve the Church and its doctrines, but to cleanse it from the foul
scandals, the sloth, greed, immorality, which were patent to all
the world. There was a meeting of Convocation in February, 1512, to
consider how to extirpate the Lollard heresy which was reviving.
Warham appointed Colet to preach the sermon, which he did with
wonderful energy, denouncing the simony, the self-indulgence, and the
ignorance of the bishops and clergy. The Lollards were there in great
numbers, attentive, silent listeners. He was as plain and honest with
the King himself, who, recognising his goodness of purpose, made him
a Royal Chaplain. In 1514, he went with Erasmus on pilgrimage to
Becket's tomb and ridiculed the accounts which the vergers gave of the
healing power of the relics. When Wolsey was installed as Cardinal,
Colet preached, and warned him against worldly ambition. And all
through his time at St. Paul's the aged Bishop Fitzhugh was in active
hostility to him. He died September 16th, 1519, and, although he had
requested that only his name should be inscribed on his grave, the
Mercers' Company erected a handsome tomb, for which Lilly wrote a long
inscription. Lilly and Linacre were both buried near him.
It will be seen, I think, at once that Colet is a great representative
of the thoughtful and earnest men of his time, one of the greatest
precursors of the Reformers, or rather, in full sense, a great
reformer himself. We have now to take up the course of secular events.
In 1514, Pope Leo X. sent young King Henry VIII. a "sword and cap of
maintenance" as a special honour, and he, "in robe of purple, satin,
and gold in chequer, and jewelled collar," came to the Bishop's
palace, and from thence there was a grand procession of
gorgeously-arrayed nobles and clerics round the church, with joyous
hymns.
Four years later came Wolsey, and sang High Mass to celebrate eternal
peace between England, France, and Spain. The King's beautiful
sister, Mary, was betrothed at the same time to Louis XII., who was
fifty-three years old, while she was sixteen. Within three months he
died, and she married Charles Brandon, Duke of Suffolk, and became
grandmother of Lady Jane Grey. Again one comes on a full description
of the gorgeous ceremonial. A year later, the accession of Charles V.
was announced by the Heralds in St. Paul's, and Wolsey pronounced a
benediction. The great Cardinal was now in full hopes of the papal
tiara; the same year he came in state (May 12th, 1521) with the
Archbishop of Canterbury, Warham, to hear Bishop Fisher denounce
Luther at Paul's Cross, with accompanying appropriate ceremonies. An
account on a broad-sheet in the British Museum tells how Wolsey came
with the most part of the bishops of the realm, "where he was received
with procession and censed by Mr. Richard Pace, Dean of the said
church." Pace was a native of Winchester, who had won the favour of
two successive bishops of that See, and been educated by them. One of
them sent him to the Continent to complete his course. He took Orders
in 1510, and his evident ability induced Wolsey to employ him in more
than one delicate and difficult case of foreign diplomacy, and also
brought him to the favourable notice of the King, who, after many
other preferments, made him Dean of St. Paul's on the death of Colet.
He was held to be the very ablest of diplomatists, was a friend of
Erasmus, and followed Colet in favouring "the new learning." It was he
and Sir T. More who persuaded the King to found Greek professorships
at Oxford and Cambridge.
But to return to the ceremony at St. Paul's. "After the Dean had duly
censed him, the Cardinal, while four doctors bore a canopy of gold
over him, went to the high altar, where he made his obligation; which
done, he went, as before, to the Cross in the churchyard, where was a
scaffold set up. On this he seated himself under his cloth of estate,
his two crosses on each side of him; on his right hand, sitting on the
place where he set his feet, the Pope's ambassador, and next him the
Archbishop of Canterbury; on his left hand, the Emperor's ambassador,
and next him the Bishop of Durham (Rusthall); and all the other
bishops, with other noble prelates, sat on two forms out right forth,
and then the Bishop of Rochester made a sermon by the consenting of
the whole clergy of England, by the commandment of the Pope, against
one _Martinus Eleutherus_ and all his works, because he erred sore,
and spake against the Holy Faith; and denounced them accursed which
kept any of his books; and there were many burned in the said
churchyard of his said books during the sermon. Which ended, my Lord
Cardinal went home to dinner with all the other prelates."
The Bishop of Rochester was, of course, Fisher. He was both learned
and pious. Burnet says he strongly disliked Wolsey, because of the
latter's notoriously immoral life. Fisher, though in his unflinching
conservatism he regarded the proceedings of Luther with hostility,
was anxious, as were More and Erasmus and Colet, for reformation on
Catholic lines. He, like them, favoured the new learning, and even
declared that the Continental reformers had brought much light to
bear upon religion. But he opposed the King's divorce, and refused to
acknowledge his supremacy over the Church, and was beheaded on Tower
Hill, June 22nd, 1535. There was no act of Henry which more thoroughly
excited popular horror.
When Charles V. came to England, in 1522, Wolsey again said Mass at
St. Paul's, with twenty bishops to cense him. It was on this occasion
that he changed the meeting-place of Convocation from St. Paul's to
Westminster, that it might be near his own house. Skelton, the poet,
who hated Wolsey, thereupon wrote the following distich:--
"Gentle Paul, lay down thy sword,
For Peter, of Westminster, hath shaven thy beard."
In 1524, Francis I. was taken prisoner at the battle of Pavia,
whereupon the sympathy of England for his successful rival was shown
by a huge bonfire in front of St. Paul's, and the distribution of many
hogsheads of claret. On the Sunday following, Wolsey sang Mass, and
the King and Queen, with both Houses of Parliament, were present. Once
more (Shrove Tuesday, 1527) the great Cardinal came in dignity; it was
to denounce the translation of the Bible and to condemn the Lutherans.
Certain "heretics" were marched through the cathedral in penitential
dresses, and carrying faggots, which they threw into the fire by the
great rood at the north door, in which Testaments and Lutheran tracts
were also burned. On this occasion, also, Fisher preached the sermon.
A few years later (1530), there was a similar holocaust, at which the
Bishop (Stokesley) presided.
But now came an event of momentous importance. Wolsey fell into
disgrace with the King, and, after some preliminary attacks, was
charged with high treason. From trial on this charge he was delivered
by death (November 28th, 1530). But he had brought the clergy
unwittingly into trouble. The law of _Præmunire_ forbade a man to
accept the office of papal legate in England, or the clergy to
recognise him. Wolsey had obtained a patent under the Great Seal to
exercise legatine authority, and for fifteen years no objection had
been taken. When he was indicted for the infringement of the law,
he refused to plead royal permission, fearing to incur yet greater
displeasure of the King. So judgment went by default. And now the
clergy were likewise impeached. They met in St. Paul's Chapter House,
and in their terror offered £100,000 fine, under the advice of the
Bishop. The King refused to accept this unless they recognised him
as "supreme head of the Church." Three days' discussion of this
proposition followed, then, on the proposal of Archbishop Warham, they
agreed to the following:--"of which Church and clergy we acknowledge
his Majesty to be the chief protector, the only supreme lord, and,
as far as the law of Christ will allow, the supreme head." Such a
compromise meant nothing, for it did not attempt to define what
the law of Christ on the subject was. But it was evident that the
Reformation had begun in earnest. Though nineteen Anabaptists were
condemned in St. Paul's to be burned, and on fourteen of them the
sentence was carried out, Paul's Cross echoed with renunciation of the
Pope's authority. The miraculous rood of Bexley, in Kent, having been
exposed as a fraud there, was brought up to Paul's Cross, February,
1538, and the mechanism having been shown to the indignant audience,
it was committed to the flames.
A more significant indication of the coming change was witnessed in
1541. In May of the previous year, King Henry issued a proclamation
that every parish in England should provide itself with a copy of the
English Bible by All-hallow-tide next, under a penalty of 40_s._ He
explains that the object is that "the power, wisdom, and goodness of
God may be perceived hereby," but the people are not to expound it,
nor to read it while Mass is going on, but are to "read it meekly,
humbly, and reverently for their instruction, edification, and
amendment." Accordingly, Bishop Bonner had six of these great Bibles
chained to pillars in different parts of St. Paul's, as well as an
"advertisement" fixed at the same places, "admonishing all that came
thither to read that they should lay aside vain-glory, hypocrisy, and
all other corrupt affections, and bring with them discretion, good
intention, charity, reverence, and a quiet behaviour, for the
edification of their own souls; but not to draw multitudes about them,
nor to make exposition of what they read, nor to read aloud in time of
divine service, nor enter into disputes concerning it."
There was no mistake as to the eagerness of the people to take
advantage of the opportunity. They assembled in crowds to hear such as
could read, and even, so says Burnet, sent their children to school
that they might carry them with them and hear them read.
It is not to be wondered at that Bonner soon found that his
Advertisement was powerless to check what he dreaded. Not only did
expounders dwell upon such words as "Drink ye all of it," but they
compared the clergy to the Scribes and Pharisees, and identified them
with the generation of vipers, and with priests of Baal. Accordingly,
he put forth a fresh advertisement, in which he said that "diverse,
wilful, and unlearned persons, contrary to all good order and honest
behaviour, have read the Scriptures especially and chiefly at the time
of divine service in this right honourable Catholic church, yea, in
the time of the sermon and declaration of the Word of God, in such
sort as was both to the evil and lewd example of the rest of the
multitude, and also to the high dishonour of the Word of God, over and
beside the great disturbance and unquietness of the people repairing
hither for honest purposes." And he declares that if this friendly
admonition be not attended to he will have the Bibles removed, but
that he shall do so very unwillingly, seeing that he "will be, by
God's grace, right glad that the Scripture and Word of God should be
well known."
There is a painful story in "Foxe's Martyrs," that one John Porter was
thrown into Newgate by Bonner for thus "expounding," and that he died
there of the ill-treatment he received.
In the short reign of Edward VI., great destruction was wrought in the
structure and ornamentation of St. Paul's, and no thanks are due to
the "Protector" that the mischief was not greater. There was no sign
for a month or two. Edward ascended the throne on January 28, 1547,
and just two months later the French king, Francis I., died. On that
occasion, Cranmer, attended by eight bishops, sang a Requiem Mass in
Latin at St. Paul's, and Gardiner preached a funeral sermon before the
Lord Mayor and Aldermen, eulogising this persecutor of the Reformed
Faith. But now came unmistakable signs of change. Ridley, then Master
of Pembroke College, Cambridge, soon to be Bishop of London, preached
a somewhat violent sermon at Paul's Cross against the adoration of
saints, the use of holy water, and the reverence done to pictures and
images. We may note that on the day of the King's Coronation, amid all
the splendid pageantry and decorations, a cable was fastened to the
top of St. Paul's steeple, the other end attached to an anchor by the
Deanery door, and a sailor descended "swift as an arrow from the bow."
It was in September following that the order from the Council
commanded the destruction of images in churches and the discontinuance
of all processions. The Bishop, Bonner, protested against the
alterations and was sent to the Fleet for contumacy, made submission,
and was released after eight days, during which the alterations were
made. The images were all pulled down, as were the rood, the crucifix,
and its attendants, St. Mary and St. John.
The "Grey Friars Chronicle"[1] (published by the Camden Society),
describes all this, and takes care to note that two of the men engaged
in the sacrilegious work were killed. The almsboxes shared the general
confiscation, and doubtless not only the services of the church, but
the poor who came for food, suffered thereby.
Protector Somerset had wide ideas. He aspired to build himself a
magnificent palace and to attach a park to it along the banks of the
Thames. The palace was on the site of the present Somerset House; the
park was to extend from it to St. Paul's. The cloister and chapel in
Pardon Churchyard were destroyed, and five hundred tons of bones were
carted away to Finsbury Fields (it is said there were more than a
thousand cartloads) and piled up into a mound, which got the name of
the "Bone Hill," and this has come in our day to "Bunhill." On this
hill three windmills were erected. The mound has long since been
trodden down, and the windmills are gone, but the name "Windmill
Street" remains. The chapter house and the small cloister round it, of
which we have already spoken, were also destroyed, and the materials
were used for the new Somerset House. Within the last few years the
bases of parts of this cloister have been uncovered under the skilful
supervision of Mr. Penrose, and may be seen on the south side of the
present cathedral.
As our subject is only the cathedral itself, we pass by the
controversies and changes in creed and practice which the reign of
Edward VI. witnessed. The Protector Somerset fell the victim of his
own inordinate covetousness, and died on the scaffold, January 22nd,
1552, to the great satisfaction of the "Grey Friar" chronicler. But
the Reformation went on; Bonner was imprisoned all through the reign,
Ridley was made Bishop of London (1550), and the sacrament was
administered according to the Reformed use. Rood-loft, altars,
crucifixes, images, all disappeared. The Dean, William May, gave
orders for the removal of the organ, but they were not carried out. It
pealed out the _Te Deum_ on the accession of Mary, July 6th, 1553. The
nation certainly rejoiced at this change. Not merely the rapacity of
the ruling powers at court had alienated public sympathy, but the
people at large at this time resented the loss of their ancient
worship, and had not as yet learned the greater spirituality and
reality of the Reformed service. We may note that in the exuberance of
popular delight in London whilst the cathedral bells were ringing, a
Dutchman went to the very top of the lofty steeple, waved a flag, and
kindled a blaze of torches.
But a fierce contest was inevitable. Paul's Cross for a little while
gave forth most conflicting views. Before the year was out the mass
was re-established in St. Paul's. On St. Catharine's Day there were
splendid processions and stately ceremonial, with special thought of
the Queen's mother, Catharine of Aragon. In a word, it was in St.
Paul's Cathedral that the recovery of Roman Catholicism was specially
manifested in England. William May was deprived of the Deanery, he
being a hearty supporter of the Reformed doctrines, and Feckenham
succeeded him, but in 1556 was made Abbot of Westminster. He was so
holy and kindly a man that he won great respect, though he was an
uncompromising Papist. He is said to have so exerted himself with
Queen Mary to procure the liberation of her sister Elizabeth as to
offend the Queen, and it is further said (Fuller) that Elizabeth
on her accession sent for him and offered him the Archbishopric of
Canterbury if he would conform to the Reformed Faith. He refused, and
was deprived, and went into retirement, and at St. Paul's May was
restored to the Deanery.
At the time of his deprivation, as I have said, St. Paul's at once
furnished proof of the restoration of the Roman faith. The great rood
was set up with stately ceremonial, in preparation for the visit of
the Queen and her husband, Philip of Spain, they having been married
at Winchester, July 29th, 1554. On their state visit to St. Paul's,
September 30th following, the greatest congregation that had ever
yet assembled there was gathered to see them. But as great, so says
Machyn[2], assembled again on the first Sunday in Advent to receive
Cardinal Pole as Papal Legate. Three days before, on the Feast of St.
Andrew, he had absolved England at Westminster Hall, and received it
back to Communion. Now, having landed at Baynard's Castle Wharf, he
was conducted by the Lord Mayor and Aldermen, Lord Chancellor and
Bishops, all in splendid procession, followed by a retinue of nobles
and knights, with the legate's cross carried before him, King Philip
and Queen Mary walking by his side on the right hand and the left.
Gardiner preached at Paul's Cross, the first part penitent, the latter
exultant, and ending with the words, "Verily this is the great day of
the Lord."
Of one passage in the history of this time we can speak with
unqualified approval. On August 5th, 1554, the Lord Mayor (White)
issued the following Proclamation:--
"Forasmuch as the material temples or churches of God were first
ordained and instituted and made in all places for the lawful and
devout assembly of the people there to lift up their hearts and to
laud and praise Almighty God and to hear His Divine Service and
most holy Word and Gospel sincerely said, sung, and taught, and
not to be used as market places or other profane places, or common
thoroughfares with carriage of things; and that now of late years
many of the inhabitants of this City of London, and other people
repairing to the same, have and yet do commonly use and accustom
themselves very unseemly and unreverently; the more is the pity to
make the common carriage of great vessels full of ale and beer,
great baskets full of bread, fish, fruit, and such other things,
fardels [bundles] of stuff and other gross wares through the
Cathedral Church of St. Paul within the said City of London, and
some in leading of horses, mules, or other beasts through the same
unreverently, to the great dishonour and displeasure of Almighty
God, and the great grief also and offence of all good and
well-disposed persons. Be it therefore for remedy and reformation
thereof ordained, enacted, and established by the Lord Mayor,
Aldermen, and Commons in this present Common Council assembled
and by the authority of the same, according to the privileges and
customs of this ancient city that no manner of person or persons,
either free of the said city or foreign, of what estate,
condition, or degree soever he or they be, do at any time from
henceforth carry, or convey, or cause to be conveyed or carried
through the said Cathedral Church of St. Paul any manner of great
vessel or vessels, basket or baskets, with bread, ale, beer,
flesh, fruit, fish, fardells of stuff, wood billets, faggots,
mule, horse, or other beasts, or any other like thing or things,
upon pain of forfeiture and losing for every such his or their
offence iii_s._ iiij_d._, and for the second like offence vi_s._
viij_d._, and for the third offence x_s._, and for every other
offence after such third time to forfeit and lose like sum, and
to suffer imprisonment by the space of two whole days and nights
without bail or mainprise. The one moiety of all which pains and
penalties shall be to the use of the poor called Christ's Hospital
within Newgate for the time being, and the other moiety thereof
shall be to the use of him or them that will sue for the same in
any Court of Record within same City by bill, original plaint,
or information, to be commenced and sued in the name of the
chamberlains of the said city for the time being, wherein none
essoyne [exemption] or wages of law for the defendants shall be
admitted or allowed.
"God save the King and Queen."
(Guildhall Records.)
We have had the grand ceremonial at the Reconciliation to Rome.
Another procession--oh! the pity of it--was held on St. Paul's Day,
1550, of 160 priests, with Bishop Bonner at the head, singing their
thanksgiving that the Queen was about to become a mother, and on the
following April 30th, came the report that a prince was born. Again
the bells rang out, and solemn _Te Deum_ was sung! Machyn tells of the
disappointment which followed, and expresses his hope for the future,
hope not to be fulfilled.
What was it turned the tide of religious opinion? The answer admits of
no doubt. John Rogers, the proto-martyr of the English Reformation,
was a prebendary of St. Paul's, a man of saintly life. He had given
much help to Tyndale, the translator of the Bible, had brought the MS.
to England, and published it. He was sentenced to be burned only three
days after the reception of Pole, and died with dauntless courage,
even his wife and children encouraging him. In the following October,
his Bishop and patron, Ridley, also died the same fiery death. Machyn
records, with apparent callousness, the burnings which went on in
Smithfield day after day, along with trifling incidents and stately
ceremonials at St. Paul's. He does not realise that these things were
horrifying the English people, and turning their hearts steadfastly
to the persecuted faith. The greater number of the martyr fires took
place in London, and St. Paul's was the place of trial. On the 13th of
November, 1558, the Queen issued a brief to Bonner, giving him command
to burn heretics without mercy, and four days later she died, as, on
the same day, did Cardinal Pole.
The heart of England was alienated from a religion which had resorted
to such brutalities, and the doctrines of the Reformation were
everywhere received. Queen Elizabeth, however, would not be
incautious. There was no immediate interference with the Marian
ceremonial. There was a solemn Requiem Mass sung at St. Paul's after
the death of Henry II. of France, July, 1559, but by this time the
restored images had again been removed. One day, when she came to St.
Paul's, Dean Nowell placed in her pew a prayer-book richly illuminated
with German scriptural engravings. She was very angry, and demanded to
know who had placed "this idolatrous book" on her cushion. The poor
Dean explained, and her Majesty was satisfied, but "prayed God to give
him more wisdom for the future." She expressed her satisfaction that
the pictures were German and not English. Some years later the same
Dean offended her in the opposite direction. It was on Ash Wednesday,
1572; he was preaching before her, and denounced certain "Popish
superstitions," among them the use of the sign of the Cross. Her
Majesty called out to him sternly to "stick to his text." The next day
he sent her a humble apology.
Paul's Cross was silent for some months; when at length it was again
occupied the Reformed faith was reasserted. Bonner was sent to the
Tower, and the English Communion service was again in use. In the
following August, the Queen's Commissioners held a Visitation in St.
Paul's, at which all who refused to conform with it were pronounced
contumacious and deprived. The rood was again turned out, as were the
images, and now it was with the approval of the people at large. In
many places there was much violence displayed in the destruction,
but not in St. Paul's. All was done there without tumult, and with
discrimination. On December 17th, 1559, Parker was consecrated
Archbishop at Lambeth, and four days later he consecrated Grindal
Bishop of London. Bonner was sent to the Marshalsea Prison, which
Strype declares was done to screen him from the popular detestation.
He was well fed and housed there, and had "much enjoyment of his
garden and orchards," until his death in 1569.
Grindal had been warmly attached to Ridley, and still loved his memory
dearly. Moreover, he had himself been an exile for his opinions. He
was not, therefore, likely to look favourably upon the old ceremonial,
even in its modified form of stately solemnity and grace, such as
Tallis and Merbecke would have preserved to it. And his Dean, Nowell,
had the same distrust. Had they favoured it, in all probability the
moderate and beautiful rendering of the Liturgy, as it is heard in the
cathedral in our day, would not only have won the affections of the
people at large, but would have arrested the strong tide of Puritanism
and iconoclasm which was now rising. In Convocation, the Puritans
nearly carried the removal of all organs from churches. They lost it
by a majority of one, and Dean Nowell was in the minority.
Whilst the controversy was at its fiercest, on the 3rd of June, 1561,
a violent thunderstorm burst over London. The Church of St. Martin's,
Ludgate, was struck by lightning, and great masses of stones came down
upon the pavement. Whilst people were looking dismayed at this,
the steeple of St. Paul's was discovered to be on fire. The timber
framework had got ablaze, the lead which covered it poured down like
lava upon the roof, the very bells melted. For four hours the whole
cathedral was in danger, but happily, with the exception of the
roof of the nave, the church was saved. As soon as the flames were
extinguished, Pilkington, whose works are published by the Parker
Society, furiously declared that it was all owing to the retention of
Popery, and the other side, with equal vigour, attributed the disaster
to the desecration by the Puritans.[3]
The steeple was never rebuilt, but the nave roof was begun without
loss of time. Queen Elizabeth sent letters to the Lord Mayor,
commanding him to take immediate steps, gave him 1000 marks from her
own purse, and warrants for 1000 loads of timber from her woods. £7000
were raised at once by the clergy and laymen of London, "very frankly,
lovingly, and willingly," says the Guildhall record. Before a month
had elapsed a temporary roof was made, and in five years the lead roof
was complete.
The victory over the Armada, in 1588, sent all England wild with
delight. The Queen came in State to offer thanks at St. Paul's,
attended by all the nobility, and after the sermon dined with the
Bishop in his palace.
But the signs of irreverence and neglect are continually before us.
We have already given extracts from sermons denouncing it. It was
now that the raising of money by Government lotteries began, for the
purpose of repairing the harbours, and a great shed was set up at the
west door of St. Paul's for the drawing (1569). In 1605, four of the
Gunpowder conspirators were hanged in front of the west door, and in
the following May, Garnet, the Jesuit priest, shared the same fate on
the same spot.
Let us before closing this chapter take note of the monuments of four
Deans not mentioned in our last survey. They are Thomas Wynterbourne
(Dean 1471-1478), William Worsley (1479-1499), a fine brass. William
May we have already spoken of, Dean under Edward VI., deprived by
Mary, restored by Elizabeth, elected Archbishop of York, but died
the same day, August 8th, 1560. There were twelve Latin lines on his
grave. His successor, Alexander Nowell, who died in 1601 at the age of
ninety, was a zealous promoter of the Reformation. There was a fine
monument to him, a bust in fur robe, and very long Latin inscriptions
in prose and verse.
Before coming to the last chapter in the history of the great
cathedral, a chapter of decay, of zealous attempts at restoration, of
profanation, of one more attempt to restore, and of total destruction,
it becomes necessary to take one more retrospect.
[Footnote 1: The Grey Friars Monastery was on the site of Christ's
Hospital, this year removed. The Chronicler was one of the expelled
monks, and, naturally enough, was shocked at the whole business.]
[Footnote 2: Robert Machyn was an upholsterer of Queenhithe, whose
business, however, was chiefly in the way of funerals. He kept a
diary, which is much used by Strype in his _Annals_, but has been
reprinted in full by the Camden Society. It is very amusing, very
illiterate, and full of gossip. He was a hot partisan of the Roman
faith, and so never loses the opportunity of a fling at the Reformers.
He died of the plague in 1563.]
[Footnote 3: Milman's _Annals of St. Paul's_, pp. 280-1.]
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