Baroque Rebirth and the Rise of the Anglican sanctuary: Wren's City churches.

I made myself ready presently, and walked to the Tower, and there got up upon one of the high places, Sir J. Robinson's little son going up with me; and there I did see the houses at that end of the bridge all on fire, and an infinite great fire on this and the other side the end of the bridge - this is an account of the Great Fire of London by the renowned diarist Samuel Pepys. The fire swept through central London for four nights between the 2nd and the 6th of September of the year 1666. It devoured over 13,000 houses, 87 parish churches as well as the Old St. Paul’s Cathedral. The fire easily consumed through the timber houses of what was still effectively Medieval London, only 16 people lost their lives, perhaps the fire saved more than it killed as London soon grew out of its wooden ashes, but this time in solid stone.

The apse at St. Bride's in Fleet Street.

Amongst the major losses of the fire was in fact the vast amount of Medieval architecture that was lost, among the endless number of churches only St. Bartholomew’s the Great, the Temple, and about seven others survived in the city and surrounding areas. London had been deprived not only of its housing but also of its temples, where people had always found refuge in time of trouble. There was the occasion for a new major task.

The spire of St. Mary-le-Bow.

Within two weeks from the fire, Baroque architect Sir Cristopher Wren (1632-1723), presented a new project for the city and the reconstruction of 51 of its major churches. Wren is today renowned for his works at the Old Royal Naval College in Greenwich, the Royal Chelsea Hospital, Hampton Court Palace as well as churches such as St. James’ Piccadilly - but it is the legacy left by his churches in the City as well as the new St. Paul’s Cathedral which truly formed his astonishing legacy. Today, despite “19th century” vandalism and war destruction, 29 of them survive, (this number includes those where only the bell tower remains intact). 

St. Bride's iconic three-tier wedding cake spire.

Work began in the 1670s. Cristopher Wren is widely recognised as the Father of English Baroque, however, stylistically his is a more toned-down version of the Baroque architecture found in the Continent. Wren’s Baroque was in fact more rational and characterised by its penchant for the classical and rooted in a post-Palladian search for the order of antiquity. Wren’s subtle extravaganza is visible to a trained eye who can spot the likes of Borromini or Bernini in some of his architectural details. The interior of his churches was usually plain decoratively speaking, leaving the arts and furnishings to do the rest of the trick. His windows were usually in clear glass, but he was masterful in his juxtaposition of brick, Portland stone and stucco.

The sanctuary of St. Clement's Danes.

Wren’s churches, and their layout became an inspiration for all Anglican houses of worship until the early 19th century, inspiring later architects such as Nicholas Hawksmoor, known for St. Mary’s Woolnoth and St. George’s Bloomsbury, as well as James Gibbs, known for St. Mary’s-le-Strand and St. Martin’s-in-the-Fields, both his pupils, but also the more rational Georgian architecture of the 18th century which then inspired the colonial churches of the new continent. Most of which were inspired by Wren’s tallest church: St. Bride’s in Fleet Street, with its spire; the first example of a three-tier wedding cake bell tower, or indeed the exuberant spire at St. Mary’s-le-Bow or the restrained Anglican elegance of St. Vedast-alias-Foster and St. Lawrence Jewry’s sanctuaries. Wren’s quintessentially English Baroque style, deeply rooted in the respect of classical rigidity and yet extravagant elegance is widely praised; the spires of his city churches, mostly completed in the 1690s, are a testament to his genius, it is in them that he truly gave his imagination full reign.

The orderly sanctuary of St. Vedast-alias-Foster.

However, liturgically speaking his churches, or in fact most Anglican churches or their interior arrangements between the late 16th and early 19th century are often denigrated to the status of “preaching boxes” - that happens when they're read through the deforming glasses of the Oxford Movement. This is unfortunately due to the recent trend of blaming the Tractarians for anything remotely catholic within the Church of England, as if the Oxford Movement triggered some sort of Renaissance from the post-Reformation “dark ages”, at the expenses of the soft Reformation of Elizabeth, the theology of Hooker, and the very 17th century Divines, some of whom, gave their life to preserve the historical policy and ideas of that English Church, long before the 19th century. Critique has seen the late 17th century to the early 19th century Church as a lethargic fossil - the truth is very different and those high churchmen are still awaiting for much awaited praise and fuller consideration, for preserving and fostering a proper Anglican high church tradition, that yes existed and that no, the Tractarians "didn't bring back to life".

The altarpiece at St. Lawrence's Jewry.

The Church of England always preserved its catholicism in its own way, and we must recognise the efforts of those who made this actually possible, it was all there in the first place. It is about time the general critique of the 17th and 18th century Church would change, this article aims at restoring that truth by praising Wren’s genius. This was a new English and Anglican catholic tradition, shaped in the language and ideas of the Book of Common Prayer. The English Church had always been catholic and certainly even without the “aid” of the Tractarians. Nowadays, most of these churches still offer Prayer Book services, most famously, St. James Garlickhythe, the headquarters of the PBS, a favourite of Prince Charles. Wren's churches are an important testimony of pre-Oxford Movement high church arrangements, mostly left unscathed by the Tractarians.

The spire of St. James' Garlickhythe.

It is in the 17th century high church Arminian tradition that we find Cristopher Wren and his churchmanship, his father, also Christopher, had been chaplain to Lancelot Andrewes, Charles I and Dean at Windsor, his uncle Bishop Matthew Wren, was a Caroline Divine and a great supporter of Archbishop William Laud. It is in Wren’s buildings, centred around the altar, but where the pulpit is also imposing, that we find the clues and ideas of how the Church of England and its historical form and ideas survived throughout history, not only the seed, but the "high church" substance was all there - according to its own Anglican tradition. These were not preaching boxes, but expressions of English catholicism as understood in the new vibrant tradition of the Book of Common Prayer. It is also at this time that we see a resurgence of figurative Christian art in churches.

William Snow's dome painting at St. Mary's Abchurch.

Wren’s churches were located in the City of London and as such, right after the Civil War and Restoration, one could possibly not have found a more “conformist” area in all of England, and as such Wren’s churches met all of the regulations of the time. Depending on the state of decay of the Medieval church he was going to substitute, Wren opted either for classical squared churches or sometimes he re-used the elongated shape of the Medieval naves, in either case, the seating was usually arranged in box-pews, either in the normal west-to-east fashion or sometimes, in a more collegiate fashion, such as at St. Vedast-alias-Foster. A large pulpit would often throne on a side to the chancel, in the new reformed tradition, a good sermon was of essential importance.

Communion table and pulpit at St. Stephen's Walbrook.

Usually, communion tables were located at the east end of the church, encircled by an altar-rail as was customary since the time of William Laud (although some churches already had railings since at least Elizabethan times) - also in Laudian fashion was the fact that the sanctuary was usually raised by a few steps, these chancels usually decorated by Wren with rich chequered marble floors. The communion table was usually rather small and wooden but rather attractive, sometimes decorated with a carpet of satin, velvet or silk - at the time Anglicans would not receive more than twice a year, but this was true of the laity of the Church of Rome as well until the Pius X’s reforms in the 20th century, except that in the Anglican case, Matins became the main service, regular Communion remained a rarer affair (usually once a month), (except when it happened and due reverence would have been given, its frequency depended on how big a foundation the church was, in cathedrals and royal or university chapels it was mandatory to have it weekly), and the communion table became more elegant and evenly sized - above it, according to law, there would have been an altarpiece with the Lord’s Prayer, Creed and the Ten Commandments, the three texts that make up the catechism of the prayer book, or sometimes a suitable painting. 

The Anglican altarpiece with the Commandments, Creed and Lord' Prayer boards at St. Vedast-alias-Foster.

This was a way of complying with the new Canon Law of 1604 which made the boards with these texts to be made compulsory in every church so that they could easily be read by all of the congregation during services. Some Anglican reredos also contained pictures of Moses and Aaron on the altarpiece, the symbolic keepers of the Law - some others had proper paintings of scriptural subjects, such as most commonly, pictures of the Last Supper. Article LXXXII of the 1604 canons reads: 

Whereas we have no doubt, but that in all Churches within the Realm of England, convenient and decent Tables are provided and placed for the Celebration of the holy Communion, We appoint that the same Tables shall from time to time be kept and repaired in sufficient and seemly manner, and covered in time of Divine Service with a Carpet of Silk or other decent Stuff thought meet by the Ordinary of the place, if any question be made of it, and with a fair Linen Cloth at the Time of the Ministration, as becometh that Table, and so stand, saving when the said holy Communion is to be Administered. At which Time the same shall be placed in so good sort within the Church or Chancel, as thereby the Minister may be more conveniently heard of the Communicants in his Prayer and Administration, and the Communicants also more conveniently and in more number may communicate with the said Minister: and that the Ten Commandments be set up upon the East-end of every Church and Chapel where the people may best see and read the same, and other chosen Sentences written upon the Walls of the said Churches and Chapels in places convenient: And likewise, that a convenient Seat be made for the Minister to read Service in. All these to be done at the Charge of the Parish.

The altar at St. Stephen's Walbrook.

A great number of Wren’s City churches preserve the original 17th century arrangement of the chancel, perhaps the most beautiful examples survive at St. Mary’s Abchurch, St. Stephen’s Walbrook and of course St. Margaret’s Lothbury, where the delightful tiny communion tables take a place of prominence in the architecture of the church, a prominence exalted by the aforementioned altarpieces, in most cases carved by the great Grinling Gibbons, who often worked alongside Wren - and who was indeed highly appreciated also at court at the time. St. Margaret’s Lothbury is perhaps the most complete Wren sanctuary, it also includes a beautiful carved screen but in true Reformation style, topped with the royal arms rather than a rood. On the two sides to the altarpiece are two paintings with the prophets Moses and Aaron. 

The sanctuary at St. Margaret's Lothbury, with the Grinling Gibbons carvings in the screen and altarpiece.

At St. Mary’s Abchurch the beautiful dome is decorated with a stunning trœmpe-l’oeil by William Snow (1708) and it is a Baroque apotheosis cantered around the depiction of the Hebrew name of God the Father. The two churches are a triumph of Baroque and yet canonically classical architecture with their unsupported domes and truly express the genius of Wren, which I would personally define as perfectly English despite its “Baroqueness”: canonically perfect classical extravaganza.

The sanctuary at St. Mary's Abchurch with the Grinling Gibbons pulpit and altarpiece, and the William Snow dome painting.

Wren’s churches are a testimony to the forefathers of our Anglican faith - but not only that, they’re a stunning collection of delightful experiments in that bizarre rational form of Baroque which was its English expression. Wren’s architecture was inspired by the severity of antiquity, somewhat anglicised through the likes of architects such as Inigo Jones, and at the same time mitigated and scalded by some hot Roman wind that at times seems to have been fuelled in his direction by Borromini himself! Wren knew what was going on in the continent architecturally speaking and he made it all fit for purpose for Anglican England through the eyes of his genius by reinventing it all.

St. Vedast-alias-Foster and its Borrominesque spire.

An example of the latter would be the wonderful Italian-looking spire at St. Vedast-alias-Foster, the theatrical Baroque stage which is the church of St. Clement Danes, the exuberant façade of St. Martin’s-within-Ludgate with its Italian volutes, or the splendid domes of St. Mary’s Abchurch and St. Stephen’s Walbrook, the latter, possibly the most perfect building in Britain, clearly inspired by the Roman Pantheon, Wren’s preparatory design for St. Paul’s which was highly praised at the time, so much that Antonio Canova himself once said: he would like to return to England so that he could again see St. Paul’s Cathedral, Somerset House, and St. Stephen’s Church, Walbrook.

The dome at St. Stephen's Walbrook.

Wren invented the archetype of the high Anglican parish. All these fine buildings are a testament to one of the greatest architects of all time, perhaps they equal his masterpiece in terms of importance, the majestic and imposing building that is St. Paul’s Cathedral, the monument to a new England that for the first time crowned herself with the crown of classical architecture, an epitaph on Wren’s tomb there reads: reader, if you seek his monument, look around you.

The spire of St. Martin's-within-Ludgate on the left, with St. Paul's Cathedral in the background.