LONDON 



269 



It does not come directly from the 

 "city," yet the "city" is responsible for 

 it — the little ancient city, where the Lord 

 Mayor rules, in the medieval splendor of 

 velvet and fur and lace when he goes on 

 the 9th of November to take oath of 

 office in his great golden chariot, all bob- 

 bing and quivering on its huge springs 

 with the weight of his magnificence, and 

 in the dress of an English gentleman all 

 the other days of the year. This is the 

 city built on the site of Briton hamlet, 

 Roman camp, Saxon stronghold ; the city 

 which has been ravaged by plague and by 

 fire, repopulated and rebuilt almost over 

 night. Of the Roman city which ended 

 with the recall of the legions (412), there 

 remain large fragments of wall, the 

 names of gates, sundry relics of edifices. 

 The Saxons and the Danes were not 

 builders, but of Norman London there is 

 yet that stately Tower, historically the 

 most interesting spot in England, and at 

 the other end of the city, Temple Church. 

 The "great fire" of 1666 took what stood 

 between ; for what is there today Sir 

 Christopher Wren is largely responsible. 



an architect's opportunity 



Surely, to no architect ever came 

 greater opportunity. This fire, of which 

 our voluble friend Pepys gives such 

 graphic account — "the churches, houses, 

 and all on fire and a horrid noise the 

 flames made ; ... it made me weep 

 to see it" — licked up 13,000 houses and 

 89 churches, among them the ancient 

 Cathedral of St. Paul. Wren drew the 

 plans for their reconstruction ; he and his 

 pupils carried them to completion. In 

 the general scheme none could have 

 wrought better. The grouping of the 

 city's parish churches about St. Paul's, 

 the contrast of their delicate, graceful 

 spires with the huge brooding dome, is 

 perfect. For two thousand years a sanc- 

 tuary of some sort crowned this low hill ; 

 for six hundred a huge and stately 

 church, which, if old prints speak true, 

 was lovely indeed to look upon — a Gothic 

 church which fitted a northern city and 

 northern sky as Italian St. Paul's does 

 not. 



As a hall of fame, however, the ca- 

 thedral is appropriate. What a place of 

 pilgrimage it must be today ! Here Eng- 



land enshrines or commemorates her sol- 

 dier and sailor sons ; Nelson and Wel- 

 lington head the list ; also her great 

 painters — Turner, Landseer, Leighton. 



MEANT FOR LARGER SPACES 



Some of the monuments are good and 

 more are bad — very bad. After suffer- 

 ing the many criticisms on America's 

 poor taste in art one is sure to endure in 

 the house of one's friend, it is a wicked 

 satisfaction to lead one's tormentor into 

 St. Paul's and halt casually before one 

 of these atrocities. There is a moment 

 of eloquent silence, then an explosive 

 "Hum! let's have luncheon!" 



St. Paul's from the river is delightful ; 

 it was meant for large spaces. By the 

 maze of tiny streets about it, it is too 

 crowded ; but their names and associa- 

 tions are a never-ending pleasure — Pater- 

 noster Row, Ivy Lane, Amen Court, Bell 

 Yard, Queen's Head — and between it 

 and the Tower are many things at which 

 a tourist should look. The monument on 

 Fish Street Hill, for instance, commemo- 

 rating the "great fire" — a fluted column 

 whose height precisely equals its distance 

 from the house of the King's baker in 

 Pudding Lane, where the blaze began. 

 Then there is the "London Stone," built 

 in the wall of the Church of St. Swithin, 

 an old Roman milestone, the milliarium 

 of the Roman Forum, whence British 

 highroads were measured. What a 

 "modern" is Wren after all ! 



IN LONDON TOWER 



There is no question of our reverence 

 for the Tower. I'm not sure that its 

 museums have much interest for us, 

 although we have plodded dutifully 

 through them more than once, hoping 

 for thrills. The Crown jewels left us 

 quite indifferent ; shop windows are so 

 gay nowadays ! And there was so much 

 of the armor. The charm of the Tower 

 is not what it possesses ; it is what it is 

 and has been. 



Certainly there was a fortress here in 

 Roman times, on this little hill among the 

 marshes by the river, and in Saxon days 

 a great stronghold. But when William 

 the Conqueror gave its first charter to 

 the little city of London, "to William 

 the Bishop and Gosfrith the Portreeve," 



