The Crypt Chapel of the Holy Spirit, St Mary-le-Bow, City of London
Last autumn, we felt confident enough to start arranging things in the new year. One of these was a show by Chinese acrobats that Jools wanted to see. She got Jen, Sylv and a friend to go. And yesterday was the day of the show. I made it clear it wasn't for me, but I would go up to rephotograph some City churches and we would meet up afterwards for a meal before coming home.
When we arrange things, we don't know what slings and arrows fate might throw at us. In Tuesday's case, it was a Tube drivers strike, and no last minute talks fixed that. I could arrange my trip to avoind using public transport other than the train up and back home, which were unaffected. Jools thought they would be OK, as their tickets were for the Odeon, which she thought was in Leicester Square, but it turned out was the old Hammersmith Apollo. Now, usually this would not have been a problem, but on Tuesday it was.
They arranged to leave an hour earlier than planned and try to get a taxi, which they did after waiting in line for an hour, getting to the theatre just half an hour before showtime, leaving them only time to get a snack.
Their journey up was done outside rush hour, the show ened at five, and they had to get back to St Pancras. Which would prove to be an adventure.
For me, however, it was a walk in the park. And to add to the pleasure of the day, I would meet up with my good friend, Simon, owner of the Churches of East Anglia website, just about every word and picture done by his own hand. His website also covers the City of LOndon churches, so I asked if he wanted to meet up; he did, so a plan was hatched to meet and visit a few churches, one of which, King Edmund, he had not been inside. He wouldn't arrive until jsut after ten to get the offpeak ticket prices, I would get up early as a couple of the churches would be open before nine.
A plan was made, and I had a list of chuches and a rough order in which to visit them.
The alarm went off at five, and we were both up. I having a coffee after getting dressed and Jools was to drop me off at the station, and as we drove in the heavy fog that had settled, I realised there was a direct train to Cannon Street just after seven, could I make it to avoid a half hour layover at Ashford?
Yes I could.
Jools dropped me off outside Priory station, I went in and got my ticket, and was on the train settled into a forward facing seat with three whole minutes to spare.
The train rattled it's way out of the station and through the tunnel under Western Heights, outside it was still dark. So I put my mask on and rested my eyes as we went through Folkestone to Ashford, an towards Pluckley, Headcorn, Marden to Tonbridge, Sevenoaks and so onto south east London. The train filled up slowly, until we got to Tonbridge which left few seats remaining, and at Sevenoaks, it was standing room only, but by then its a twenty minute run to London Bridge.
After leaving London Bridge station, the train took the sharp turn above Borough Market and over the river into Cannon Street. I was in no hurry, so enoyed the peace and space of an empty carriage before making my way off the train then along the platform and out onto the street in front. A heavy drizzle was falling, so I decided to get some breakfast and another coffee. Just up Walbrook there was an independent sandwich place, so I went in and asked what I wanted: faced with dozens of choices, all made to order, I had no idea.
I decided on a simple sausage sandwich and a coffee and watched people hurrying to work outside. I had all the time I wanted.
I check my phone and find that opening times were a little different, but St Mary Aldermary was open from half eight, so I check the directions and head there.
It was open, mainly because there is a small cafe inside. I ask if I could go in, they say yes, so I snap it well with the 50mm lens fitted, and decide that something sweet was called for. They recommended the carrot cake, so I had a slice of that and a pot of breakfast tea sitting and admiring the details of the church. Once I had finished, I put on the wide angle lens and finished the job.
Just up the lane outside was St Mary-le-Bow, which should also be open.
It was. Also because they had a cafe. I skipped another brew, and photographed that too, and saw that the crypt was open too, so went down the steps to that. Simon tells me that the church got it's name because of the brick arched crypt: bowed roof.
-------------------------------------------
One of the best-known of the City churches, standing proudly among the modern shops and offices of Cheapside with its former burial ground now a square to the west of it. The medieval church was also well-known, its great tower a prominent sight to anyone approaching the city. It was lit up with lanthorns at night. And the bells, of course, are also some of the City's best-known, remembered for supposedly calling, in about the year 1390, the young Richard Whittington back to London as he slinked sorrowfully out of town up Highgate Hill:
Turn again, Whittington, once Lord Mayor of London!
Turn again, Whittington, twice Lord Mayor of London!
Turn again, Whittington, thrice Lord Mayor of London!
Richard Whittington was a fabulously wealthy mercer, an early capitalist who benefited from the radical restructuring of the English economy in the years after the Black Death. In fact, he was Lord Mayor of London four times - in 1407, he was Lord Mayor of both London and Calais at the same time - and financed a number of public projects, such as drainage systems in poor areas of medieval London, and a hospital ward for unmarried mothers. He passed a law prohibiting the washing of animal skins by apprentices in the River Thames in cold, wet weather. In the absence of heirs, Whittington left £7,000 in his will to charity, equivalent to about £300 million in today's money. Among other things, it was used to rebuild Newgate Prison and Newgate, build the first library in the Guildhall, repair St Bartholomew's Hospital and install London's first public drinking fountains.
Under the circumstances, it is not surprising that he should be celebrated. The English folk tale Dick Whittington and his Cat was based on his life, and it has often been used as the basis for stage pantomimes and other adaptations. It tells of a poor boy in the 14th century who becomes a wealthy merchant and eventually the Lord Mayor of London because of the ratting abilities of his cat. The character of the boy is based on Richard Whittington, but the real Whittington did not come from a poor family and there is no evidence that he owned a cat. Although, of course, he probably did. The large tenor bell of St Mary le Bow, which begins the ring at the start of each line of Turn Again, Whittington, is also the Great Bell of Bow mentioned in the old nursery rhyme Oranges and Lemons:
Oranges and lemons, say the bells of St. Clement's
You owe me five farthings, say the bells of St. Martin's
When will you pay me? say the bells of Old Bailey
When I grow rich, say the bells of Shoreditch
When will that be? say the bells of Stepney
I do not KNOW, says the great bell of Bow.
And to be born within the sound of Bow bells is the definition of being a cockney. So here we have a church which was central to the Myth of London long before the Great Fire and Sir Christopher Wren came along. When he did, it was to rebuild the burned-down church on spectacular lines, the most obvious of which is the tower, perhaps the City's best, thoroughly assured in its Classical self-confidence. Wayland Young notes that Wren used as a foundation for it a Roman causeway he found eighteen feet below ground. He also excavated under the medieval ruins a vaulted crypt, and because of the Roman bricks used in the arches he assumed that this was Roman too. As Young points out, it is in fact 11th Century, and probably the arches gave St Mary its epithet, for St Mary de Arcubus can be translated as St Mary of the Bow.
The Victorians did their best to ruin St Mary le Bow - after all, it was an important civic church. They tore out the galleries, and filled the windows with dull, ponderous glass. But the church was destroyed on the night of Sunday 29th December 1940. Only the tower and outer walls were left standing, the tower with a noticeable slant. The decision was taken, as at St Bride and St Vedast, to rebuild but not to replicate the furnishings that were there before, or indeed those which had been there in Wren's time. The architect chosen for the restoration was Laurence King, and it took place between 1956 and 1964. The result is a large space full of wonderful light, enhanced by the genius of John Hayward's glass. The furnishings are all Hayward's and King's, the rood in the customary light oak style of the day, and a detail easily missed is the Blessed Sacrament chapel shoehorned in to the right of the sanctuary.
Towards the end of this period King also took on the reconstruction of Little Walsingham church in Norfolk, which had been gutted by fire, and there are obvious lessons there learned here, not least that John Hayward was a good man to have on the job. Both churches are full of Festival of Britain confidence, the rich simplicity of post-war Anglo-catholicism, sure of itself but not yet dogmatic. And yet there is never any doubt standing inside St Mary le Bow that this is a Wren church, a civic church with a sense of dignity and gravitas. As, conversely, there is a medieval spirit at King's contemporarily refurbished Little Walsingham church. It was a tremendously successful result for both.
Not long after photographing this church, and being buoyed up again by its sheer feelgood factor, I was excited to find a copy of Charles Cox's English Church Fittings, Furniture and Accessories in a Suffolk book shop. A large hardback volume published by Batsford in 1923, fairly rare nowadays, it was a seminal work for those looking to restore some of the damage caused by Victorian enthusiasm. Turning to the front of it, I found Laurence King's bookplate. It had been his copy. I leave you, the reader, to decide quite how excited I was as I carried the book home.
Simon Knott, December 2015
www.simonknott.co.uk/citychurches/043/church.htm
The Crypt Chapel of the Holy Spirit, St Mary-le-Bow, City of London
Last autumn, we felt confident enough to start arranging things in the new year. One of these was a show by Chinese acrobats that Jools wanted to see. She got Jen, Sylv and a friend to go. And yesterday was the day of the show. I made it clear it wasn't for me, but I would go up to rephotograph some City churches and we would meet up afterwards for a meal before coming home.
When we arrange things, we don't know what slings and arrows fate might throw at us. In Tuesday's case, it was a Tube drivers strike, and no last minute talks fixed that. I could arrange my trip to avoind using public transport other than the train up and back home, which were unaffected. Jools thought they would be OK, as their tickets were for the Odeon, which she thought was in Leicester Square, but it turned out was the old Hammersmith Apollo. Now, usually this would not have been a problem, but on Tuesday it was.
They arranged to leave an hour earlier than planned and try to get a taxi, which they did after waiting in line for an hour, getting to the theatre just half an hour before showtime, leaving them only time to get a snack.
Their journey up was done outside rush hour, the show ened at five, and they had to get back to St Pancras. Which would prove to be an adventure.
For me, however, it was a walk in the park. And to add to the pleasure of the day, I would meet up with my good friend, Simon, owner of the Churches of East Anglia website, just about every word and picture done by his own hand. His website also covers the City of LOndon churches, so I asked if he wanted to meet up; he did, so a plan was hatched to meet and visit a few churches, one of which, King Edmund, he had not been inside. He wouldn't arrive until jsut after ten to get the offpeak ticket prices, I would get up early as a couple of the churches would be open before nine.
A plan was made, and I had a list of chuches and a rough order in which to visit them.
The alarm went off at five, and we were both up. I having a coffee after getting dressed and Jools was to drop me off at the station, and as we drove in the heavy fog that had settled, I realised there was a direct train to Cannon Street just after seven, could I make it to avoid a half hour layover at Ashford?
Yes I could.
Jools dropped me off outside Priory station, I went in and got my ticket, and was on the train settled into a forward facing seat with three whole minutes to spare.
The train rattled it's way out of the station and through the tunnel under Western Heights, outside it was still dark. So I put my mask on and rested my eyes as we went through Folkestone to Ashford, an towards Pluckley, Headcorn, Marden to Tonbridge, Sevenoaks and so onto south east London. The train filled up slowly, until we got to Tonbridge which left few seats remaining, and at Sevenoaks, it was standing room only, but by then its a twenty minute run to London Bridge.
After leaving London Bridge station, the train took the sharp turn above Borough Market and over the river into Cannon Street. I was in no hurry, so enoyed the peace and space of an empty carriage before making my way off the train then along the platform and out onto the street in front. A heavy drizzle was falling, so I decided to get some breakfast and another coffee. Just up Walbrook there was an independent sandwich place, so I went in and asked what I wanted: faced with dozens of choices, all made to order, I had no idea.
I decided on a simple sausage sandwich and a coffee and watched people hurrying to work outside. I had all the time I wanted.
I check my phone and find that opening times were a little different, but St Mary Aldermary was open from half eight, so I check the directions and head there.
It was open, mainly because there is a small cafe inside. I ask if I could go in, they say yes, so I snap it well with the 50mm lens fitted, and decide that something sweet was called for. They recommended the carrot cake, so I had a slice of that and a pot of breakfast tea sitting and admiring the details of the church. Once I had finished, I put on the wide angle lens and finished the job.
Just up the lane outside was St Mary-le-Bow, which should also be open.
It was. Also because they had a cafe. I skipped another brew, and photographed that too, and saw that the crypt was open too, so went down the steps to that. Simon tells me that the church got it's name because of the brick arched crypt: bowed roof.
-------------------------------------------
One of the best-known of the City churches, standing proudly among the modern shops and offices of Cheapside with its former burial ground now a square to the west of it. The medieval church was also well-known, its great tower a prominent sight to anyone approaching the city. It was lit up with lanthorns at night. And the bells, of course, are also some of the City's best-known, remembered for supposedly calling, in about the year 1390, the young Richard Whittington back to London as he slinked sorrowfully out of town up Highgate Hill:
Turn again, Whittington, once Lord Mayor of London!
Turn again, Whittington, twice Lord Mayor of London!
Turn again, Whittington, thrice Lord Mayor of London!
Richard Whittington was a fabulously wealthy mercer, an early capitalist who benefited from the radical restructuring of the English economy in the years after the Black Death. In fact, he was Lord Mayor of London four times - in 1407, he was Lord Mayor of both London and Calais at the same time - and financed a number of public projects, such as drainage systems in poor areas of medieval London, and a hospital ward for unmarried mothers. He passed a law prohibiting the washing of animal skins by apprentices in the River Thames in cold, wet weather. In the absence of heirs, Whittington left £7,000 in his will to charity, equivalent to about £300 million in today's money. Among other things, it was used to rebuild Newgate Prison and Newgate, build the first library in the Guildhall, repair St Bartholomew's Hospital and install London's first public drinking fountains.
Under the circumstances, it is not surprising that he should be celebrated. The English folk tale Dick Whittington and his Cat was based on his life, and it has often been used as the basis for stage pantomimes and other adaptations. It tells of a poor boy in the 14th century who becomes a wealthy merchant and eventually the Lord Mayor of London because of the ratting abilities of his cat. The character of the boy is based on Richard Whittington, but the real Whittington did not come from a poor family and there is no evidence that he owned a cat. Although, of course, he probably did. The large tenor bell of St Mary le Bow, which begins the ring at the start of each line of Turn Again, Whittington, is also the Great Bell of Bow mentioned in the old nursery rhyme Oranges and Lemons:
Oranges and lemons, say the bells of St. Clement's
You owe me five farthings, say the bells of St. Martin's
When will you pay me? say the bells of Old Bailey
When I grow rich, say the bells of Shoreditch
When will that be? say the bells of Stepney
I do not KNOW, says the great bell of Bow.
And to be born within the sound of Bow bells is the definition of being a cockney. So here we have a church which was central to the Myth of London long before the Great Fire and Sir Christopher Wren came along. When he did, it was to rebuild the burned-down church on spectacular lines, the most obvious of which is the tower, perhaps the City's best, thoroughly assured in its Classical self-confidence. Wayland Young notes that Wren used as a foundation for it a Roman causeway he found eighteen feet below ground. He also excavated under the medieval ruins a vaulted crypt, and because of the Roman bricks used in the arches he assumed that this was Roman too. As Young points out, it is in fact 11th Century, and probably the arches gave St Mary its epithet, for St Mary de Arcubus can be translated as St Mary of the Bow.
The Victorians did their best to ruin St Mary le Bow - after all, it was an important civic church. They tore out the galleries, and filled the windows with dull, ponderous glass. But the church was destroyed on the night of Sunday 29th December 1940. Only the tower and outer walls were left standing, the tower with a noticeable slant. The decision was taken, as at St Bride and St Vedast, to rebuild but not to replicate the furnishings that were there before, or indeed those which had been there in Wren's time. The architect chosen for the restoration was Laurence King, and it took place between 1956 and 1964. The result is a large space full of wonderful light, enhanced by the genius of John Hayward's glass. The furnishings are all Hayward's and King's, the rood in the customary light oak style of the day, and a detail easily missed is the Blessed Sacrament chapel shoehorned in to the right of the sanctuary.
Towards the end of this period King also took on the reconstruction of Little Walsingham church in Norfolk, which had been gutted by fire, and there are obvious lessons there learned here, not least that John Hayward was a good man to have on the job. Both churches are full of Festival of Britain confidence, the rich simplicity of post-war Anglo-catholicism, sure of itself but not yet dogmatic. And yet there is never any doubt standing inside St Mary le Bow that this is a Wren church, a civic church with a sense of dignity and gravitas. As, conversely, there is a medieval spirit at King's contemporarily refurbished Little Walsingham church. It was a tremendously successful result for both.
Not long after photographing this church, and being buoyed up again by its sheer feelgood factor, I was excited to find a copy of Charles Cox's English Church Fittings, Furniture and Accessories in a Suffolk book shop. A large hardback volume published by Batsford in 1923, fairly rare nowadays, it was a seminal work for those looking to restore some of the damage caused by Victorian enthusiasm. Turning to the front of it, I found Laurence King's bookplate. It had been his copy. I leave you, the reader, to decide quite how excited I was as I carried the book home.
Simon Knott, December 2015
www.simonknott.co.uk/citychurches/043/church.htm