Читать книгу Sir Christopher Wren: His Family and His Times - Lucy Phillimore - Страница 6
CHAPTER II.
1630–1640.
ОглавлениеDR. C. WREN—BIRTH OF HIS SON CHRISTOPHER—EAST KNOYLE—ORDER OF THE GARTER—HOW A MURDERER WAS DETECTED—CHRISTOPHER AT WESTMINSTER—A LATIN LETTER—DIOCESE OF ELY—IMPEACHMENT OF LORD STRAFFORD—OF ARCHBISHOP LAUD—ARTICLES AGAINST BISHOP WREN—RESIGNS THE DEANERY OF THE CHAPELS ROYAL.
Instead of kitchen-stuff, some cry
A gospel-preaching ministry,
And some for old suits, coats, or cloak,
No surplices nor service-book.
A strange harmonious inclination
Of all degrees to Reformation.
Hudibras, pt. i. canto 2.
Less is known of the early years of Christopher Wren than of his brother’s more eventful life. Christopher went to Oxford, to S. John’s College, was admitted to Holy Orders, and, like his brother, became chaplain to Bishop Andrewes, from whom in 1620 he received the living of Fonthill Bishops in Wiltshire.
It may be said in passing, that to receive preferment from Lancelot Andrewes was in itself a proof of merit, for it was his especial care, in the three dioceses which he successively governed, only to promote able and good men to ‘such livings and preferments as fell within his gift, and to give Church preferment to none that asked for it.’ To this rule he rigidly adhered, and his disciple, Matthew Wren, followed the same plan when he became a Prelate of the Church.
Christopher did not hold this living more than three years, and then received, also from Bishop Andrewes, the neighbouring living of East (or Bishop’s) Knoyle, very near Fonthill Abbey, afterwards a place famous for its beauty and its curiosities, then the property of a Mr. Robert Cox. This gentleman had an only child, Mary, who inherited his property; she became the wife of Christopher Wren, probably a few years after his appointment to East Knoyle, where their seven children were born—five girls, of only one of whom there is any subsequent record, and two sons. A Christopher, baptized in the November of 1630, who probably died very young, as in the register the record stands, ‘Christopher, first sonne of Doctor Wren,’ ‘first’ is added above in another hand. The next baptism is, ‘Christopher, 2nd (sic) sonne of Christopher Wren, Dr. in Divinitie and Rector now.’ This is in the entries for 1631 (O.S.), followed by those for March, and is dated only ‘10th.’
This ‘second Christopher’ is the one who was to make the name afterwards so famous; but the date is very perplexing. Dr. Wren and his son both reckoned the latter’s age from his birthday, October 20, 1632, as appears again and again in the ‘Parentalia,’ notably in Dr. Wren’s own MS. note to a letter from his son.[20] The East Knoyle Register would, if the baptism is rightly put among the entries for March 1631 (O.S.), make the birthday October 20, 1631; but it seems more likely that this is an error, and 1632 the correct date.
CHANCEL AT EAST KNOYLE.
At East Knoyle Dr. Wren appears to have passed most of his time, leaving it occasionally, as he had done his previous living, to attend on Bishop Andrewes. He was a good scholar, if less deeply learned than his brother; a mathematician, a good musician, and had besides some knowledge of drawing and architecture. He employed himself in decorating East Knoyle chancel, and to him, in all probability, are owing the[21] ‘flower borders, figures, and texts of Scripture in raised plasterwork;’ which, though much defaced, still cover the chancel. The subjects are—‘Jacob’s Dream,’ ‘The Ladder with the Angels,’ ‘Jacob anointing the Pillar.’ Over the chancel arch ‘The Ascension of our Lord.’ Round the capitals of the columns are quaint inscriptions:
Sic
ut pr ae
o sis. Am
or a. A Deo a
o pta.[22]
‘Unum necessarium.’ The texts of holy Scripture, which are very well chosen, are all quoted from that earlier translation known as the ‘Bishops’ Bible,’ to which the Psalms, Offertory sentences, and ‘Comfortable Words’ of the Prayer Book belong.
Besides this, Wren contrived a new roof for the church, as the old one was falling into decay. In the hall of the rectory he put up the following inscription:
‘In quamcunque domum introeritis primum dicite:
paX sIt hVIC DoMVI
Tam solenni præcepto, tempestivo voto
Subscripsi introiens
C. W. Rector,
Julii 28. Anno dicto.’[23]
The inscription is not a little characteristic of the gentle, peace-loving nature of Christopher Wren, and the quaint conceits in which the wits of the time delighted. This form of chronogram was one which he frequently used. His second daughter, Susan, was born in 1627, and as she and the ‘second Christopher’ clung closely together in after life, and the others are never mentioned, it seems likely that they two were the only survivors of the seven children. Christopher was a very delicate, weakly boy, who early gave promise of brilliant abilities. No records say when Mrs. Wren died, but various things seem to show that she died when her children were still very young.
Dr. Wren had been one of the King’s chaplains in ordinary since 1628, and so well did he acquit himself that when his brother the Bishop resigned the deanery of Windsor and the registrarship of the Garter, the King appointed Christopher to the vacant post. It was an appointment which suited him well; he took up with equal energy his brother’s work, of arranging the documents and records, and continuing the history of the Order. Two autograph letters relating to this are preserved in the ‘Parentalia,’ one from the chancellor of the Garter, Sir Thomas Rowe:—
‘Reverend Sir,—I had wayted on you before this tyme, but that I have been punished with Lamenes, both for my owne advantage to learne of yu and to acquaint yu with some orders I have received from his matie and to give yu ye summe of ye last chapiter as I conceived it.’
GARTER RECORDS.
Sundry particulars follow, and he promises a record of the members of the Garter from its foundation. The King, he says, is anxious that every ‘chapiter of the Order’ should be fully recorded. Sir Thomas asks for ‘the papers of Sir John Fynnet’ in order to send them to King Charles, ‘who is very curious of them.’ ‘On all occasions,’ the letter concludes, ‘I shall be glad to give yu ye testimonye of my desire to be esteemed and to be yr affectionate friend to serve yu,
‘Tho. Rowe.
‘Cranford, 9 Jan. 1636 (O.S.)’
The Dean’s answer comes promptly:—
‘Jan. 10, 1636 (O.S.)
‘Honorable Sir,—How much you obliged me I shall endeavour to demonstrate to you upon better opportunities. For ye present I returne yr books and promise you ye sight of another somewt of them(?) wch phaps you will not dislike, though I begin to think your exact diligence hath lefte none of those monuments lye undiscryed, where they might be gained. I send back likewise Sir John Finet’s Paps; whereof I reserve ye copyes. And now that I begin to finde a little respiration, I will draw ym up into acte. Till I had ym I could not well begin, and now that you are pleased to send me ye last, drawne up into forme, I shall ye better accomplish ye whole business of my little time. Whereof I will send you ye whole contextures, Deo dante, ere longe. I should however give you a formall thanks that you imploy yourselfe soe largely, soe nobly for me in present, and in promise more. Knowing your reality in all worth, I abstain from other compliments then those wherein Affection must pforce speake yf she speake at all. Once for all, that branch of our comon oath is never out of my minde: Sustentabis Honores hujus Ordinis atq. omnim qui in eo sunt. Of wch omnim you are Pars Magna and shall ever be to your affectionate ob: servant friend,
‘Chr. Wren.
‘To the Honble Sr. Tho. Row Chancelor of ye most Honble Order of ye Garter.’
The Garter history appears to have been carefully continued, and Dean Wren describes, in a long picturesque account, the admission on May 19, 1638, of the Prince of Wales, then but eight years old, as a ‘companion of the Garter.’ The little Prince, Dean Wren says, acquitted himself admirably during the three days of intricate ceremonial, doing his part with accuracy and spirit, a sweet dignity, and an unwearied patience until all was completed.
He must have been a very hopeful, engaging, boy, and it is sad to think how little his after life fulfilled its early promise: had he remained in his father’s care a very different record might have been left of him in English history. The Service of Admission is a curious one, and the prayers on the putting on the Garter, the ribbon, the collar, and the mantle have considerable beauty. On this occasion the festival was celebrated with great splendour. King Charles presented two large silver flagons, cunningly carved and very richly gilt, offering them on his knees with these words: ‘Tibi, et perpetuo Tuo servitio, partem bonitatis Tuae offero Domine Deus Omnipotens.’[24]
These were added to the treasury of the Garter, which contained many articles of great value. There was a set of triple gilt silver plate wrought by Van Vianen[25] of Nuremberg, estimated at over 3,000l., several other pieces of plate, Edward IV.’s steel armour, gilt, and covered with crimson velvet embroidered with pearls, rubies and gold, fifteen rich copes embroidered in gold, altar-cloths and hangings worked with the same costly material.
GUSTAVUS ADOLPHUS.
There was also the blue velvet mantle, the George and Garter of Gustavus Adolphus, each letter of the motto made in diamonds. These had been sent to the King of Sweden by Charles I. at the close of the campaign in 1627 as a mark of friendship and respect for his valour, and were the richest ever sent even to a sovereign.
After the heroic king’s death on the field at Lutzen, in 1634, a solemn embassy brought the mantle and the jewels back to England, when they were consigned to the Dean and Chapter of Windsor, with a charge from King Charles to lay them up in the treasury ‘for a perpetual memorial of that renowned King, who died in the field of battle wearing some of those jewels, to the great honour of the Order, as a true martial prince and companion thereof.’
A few years later King Charles presented Dean Wren to the rectory of Great Haseley[26] near Oxford, with a fine old church containing two crusaders’ tombs.
In the parish of Haseley is the manor of Ryecote (or Ricot), which by marriage had become the property of Sir Henry Norris, Queen Elizabeth’s ambassador to France, whom she created Baron Norris (or Norreys) of Ryecot, and whose descendants, now the Earls of Abingdon, possess the manor to this day. During Dr. Wren’s incumbency, a strange event took place. Among the retainers of Lord Norris was an old man who had charge of the fish ponds; he had one nephew, who was the heir of all his uncle’s possessions and savings. The nephew enticed the old man out one night, waited till he fell asleep under an oak tree, murdered him by a blow on the head, dragged the body to one of the ponds, tied a great stone to the neck and threw the corpse in. There it lay five weeks, during which time Lord Norris and all the neighbours wondered what had become of the old man. At length the body was found by the men who were about to clean the pond, and were attracted to the spot by the swarms of flies; they raised the corpse with great difficulty and recognised it.
AN AWFUL WITNESS.
The stone tied to the neck was evidence of foul play, though no one could guess at the murderer. Lord Norris, in order to detect the criminal, after the usual manner, commanded that the corpse, preserved by the water from the last extremity of decay, should on the next Sunday be exposed in the churchyard, close to the church door, so that everyone entering the church should see—and touch it. The wicked nephew shrank from the ordeal, feigning to be so overwhelmed with grief as to be unable to bear the sight of his dearest uncle. Lord Norris, suspecting that the old man had been murdered by the one person whom his death would profit, compelled him to come, and to touch with his finger, as so many had willingly done, the hand of the dead. At his touch, however, ‘as if opened by the finger of God, the eyes of the corpse were seen by all to move, and blood to flow from his nostrils.’ At this awful witness the murderer fell on the ground and avowed the crime, which he had secretly committed and the most just judgment of God had brought to light. He was delivered to the judge, sentenced, and hanged.
The event must have made a deep impression on Dean Wren, who recorded it at length in Latin and signed the record to attest its truth.
He also mentions that in the east window of the church was the
‘Coat of France azure fretté and semé of Flower de Lyces or, put there together with his own coat by Lord Barentine, knight of Rhodes and a great benefactor to that church. A man of great valour and possessions in France as well as in England, his tomb at the north-east side of the chancel shows he was of a gigantic stature; and his statue of one entire stone, which I digged out of a heap of rubbish there, makes it appear he was (not two inches lower than) seven foot high.’
Dr. Wren seems to have divided his residence between Haseley and Windsor, probably spending most of his time at the Deanery, where many of the learned men and philosophers of the day sought his society. Among these was the Prince Palatine Charles, who was a frequent guest at the Deanery, enjoying its learned quiet, and interested in his host’s young son, whose great gifts were early remarkable. Many a little note did Dean Wren make of curious things that came under his observation, particularly of an oak that grew in the New Forest and sent out young fresh leaves on Christmas Eve. So much discussion was raised about it at court and King James would so little believe it, that good Bishop Andrewes sent a chaplain on Christmas Eve to the forest, who gathered about a hundred fresh shoots, stuck them into wet clay, and sent them straight to the court, where Dr. Wren witnessed the opening of the boxes. The tree was then cut down by some spiteful fellow, ‘who,’ says the Dean, ‘made his last stroke on his own leg, whereof he died, together with the old wondrous tree.’
King Charles engaged Dr. Wren to make an estimate for a building at Windsor for the use of the Queen; it was to be of considerable size, containing a chapel, a banqueting room, galleries and rooms for the Lord Chamberlain and court officials. The estimate exists in business-like detail, the total amounting to 13,305l.; but it was probably not even begun.
CHRISTOPHER AT WESTMINSTER.
To his other employments the Dean added the tender care of his young son. Christopher’s case was one of those rare ones in which a precocious child not only lives to grow up, but also amply fulfils his early promise. His delicate health was the cause of much anxiety to his father and to his sister Susan, and it may be that the skill in nursing and medicine for which she was afterwards famous, had their beginning in her watchful care of her little brother.
His frail health seems to have been rather a spur than a hindrance to his studies, and when very young he had a tutor, the Rev. W. Shepheard, who prepared him for Westminster, where he was sent in his ninth or tenth year. Westminster was then under the rule of its famous headmaster Dr. Busby, to whose especial care young Christopher was committed.
The school with its stir of life, the grand abbey, the Houses of Parliament then empty and silent, Lambeth, from which his uncle’s friend, Archbishop Laud, might be seen frequently coming across the river in his barge; the whole surroundings must have been wonderful to the country-bred boy who was one day to connect his name indissolubly with that of London. Did he, one cannot but wonder, ever on a holiday take boat down the river, shooting the dangerous arches of London Bridge, and look at S. Paul’s with its long line of roof, its tall tower and shattered spire; little S. Gregory’s nestling by its side, and all the workmen busied on the repairs which had been begun after King James’s solemn thanksgiving in 1620? Laud, while Bishop of London, had carried on the works with a vigour that had given them a fresh impetus, and was one great cause of his unpopularity. Inigo Jones had superintended them and finished the interior, and at the west end, the stately portico of Portland stone, which, though incongruous, was in itself beautiful, was being erected by King Charles’s orders. How little could the boy have guessed at the ruin which was approaching those pious builders, or the desecration and destruction that awaited the fine old building itself.
At school no pains were spared with so promising a pupil as young Wren soon showed himself to be. His sister Susan married, in 1643, Mr. William Holder, subdean of the Chapel Royal, of a Nottinghamshire family, a good mathematician, and one ‘who had good skill in the practic and theoretic parts of music’[27] Susan Wren was sixteen when she married, and though childless the marriage was a very happy one.
Mr. Holder early discerned his young brother-in-law’s talent for mathematics and gave him private lessons. Mr. Holder was subsequently appointed to the living of Bletchingdon in Oxfordshire, which he held until 1663.
THE FIRST FRUITS OF HIS PAINS.
Among the few autograph letters of Christopher Wren’s which remain in the family, is one written to his father from Westminster in a boy’s unformed hand, the faintly ruled lines still showing.
[28]‘Venerande Pater,—Sententia apud antiquos vulgata est, quam ex ore tuo me habuisse memini, Parentibus nihil posse reddi æquivalens. Frequentes enim curae et perpetui labores circa pueros sunt immensi quidem amoris indicium. At praecepta illa mihi toties repetita, quae animum ad bonas Artes, & Virtutem impellunt, omnes alios amores superant. Quod meum est, efficiam, quantum potero ne ingrato fiant hac munera. Deus Optimus Maximus conatibus meis adsit et Tibi, pro visceribus illis Paternae Pietatis, quae maximè velis praestet.
‘Id orat Filius tuus, Tibi omni obsequio devotissimus,
‘Christophorus Wren.
‘Has tibi primitias Anni, Pater, atq. laborum
Praesto (per exiguas qualibet esse sciam)
Quas spero in messem posse olim crescere, vultu
Si placido acceptes tu, foveasque sinu.
‘To you, Deare Sir, your Son presenteth heere
The first-fruits of his pains and of the yeare;
Wich may (though small) in time an harvest grow,
If you to cherish these, your favour shew.
‘E. Musaeo Meo.
‘Calendis Januarii 1641 (1642 N.S.)’
DIOCESE OF ELY.
While young Christopher was thus delighting his father with his ‘first-fruits,’ his uncle the Bishop was encountering many adversities. While he was busied in Norwich, and in the midst of his work, Dr. White, Bishop of Ely, died; he had resided mostly in London, as was then too commonly the habit of the bishops, and it is to be supposed that there was plenty of work to be done in the diocese. Laud reckoned it as a very important one on account of its university, and could think of no one so well suited to the post as Bishop Wren, who was a distinguished Cambridge scholar. To Ely accordingly the Bishop was translated, May 5, 1638, and rejoiced in renewing his connection with the university where his early years had been spent. The expenses attending so many removals must have fallen heavily upon him; all the more, as in Norwich the palace was out of repair and he lived for some time in a house of his own at Ipswich, which was probably a part of Mrs. Wren’s property, finding that much attention was required by that part of his diocese. Prynne was born at Ipswich, and though shut up in the Tower of London,[29] retained friends in his native town; thus the Bishop knew he was entering a hornet’s nest. Prynne speedily produced his ‘Quench-Coal,’ which professed to answer a tract called ‘A Coal from the Altar,’ wherein were explained the reasons for placing the Holy Table altarwise, and railing it in. Next came ‘The News from Ipswich,’ which reviled all bishops under the names of ‘Luciferian Lord Bishops, execrable Traytors, Devouring Wolves,’ and the like; especially attacking Wren, and declaring, that, ‘in all Queen Marie’s time, no such havoc was made in so short a time of the faithful ministers in any part, nay in the whole Land, than had been made in his Diocese.’ There was one great riot at Ipswich, which the Bishop was able to quell. Prynne was fined, branded, and imprisoned in Carnarvon Castle, and the town was for the time tranquil, but Prynne was destined to be a deadly and utterly unscrupulous enemy.
For nearly two years after his translation to Ely, Dr. Wren was able to govern his new diocese in comparative peace. Little opposition seems to have been made, for the factious spirit which was rampant in Norfolk and Suffolk was less violent here. In his beloved university there were many points which needed amendment. When he was master of Peterhouse and built the chapel, he gave it that which many colleges then lacked, and were lacking still when he returned, to visit Cambridge.
The churchyards of the parish churches had been in many instances encroached upon and profaned, and in most of the chancels were ‘common seats over high and unfitting that place.’ ‘In all these businesses,’ says Archbishop Laud in his yearly report to the King, ‘the Bishop hath been very tender, both out of his respect to his mother the University of Cambridge, and because divers of the benefices are impropriations belonging to some of the Colleges there.’ Nor was Wren’s care alone for the fabrics of the Church; he was careful to secure resident and diligent clergy in all the parishes as far as he could and to see that they did their duty. His advice and help were readily given. A clergyman, Mr. John Bois, applied to him for advice in the case of a woman of twenty-nine, of whom no one knew whether or no she was baptized. Mr. Bois had applied by letter and word of mouth to the previous Bishops of Ely (Bishops Buckeridge and White), and could get no answer. Bishop Wren replied to him promptly, directing him to baptize her forthwith, which was accordingly done.[30] Upon these peaceful labours the long-pending storm broke and called Wren to harder duties.
In 1640 the discontent of the times declared itself openly in Scotland, where the Puritan party took up arms against the King, and began to league themselves with the party in England whose opinions or prejudices coincided with their own. King Charles had summoned a parliament, and again dismissed it, having obtained no assistance against the Scotch. ‘The minds of men had taken such a turn,’ says Hume, ‘as to ascribe every honour to the refractory opposers of the King and the ministers. These were the only patriots, the only lovers of their country, the only heroes, and perhaps, too, the only true Christians.’ The mob of sectaries in London, encouraged by the successes obtained by the Scotch, burst into S. Paul’s, where the High Commission then sat, and tore down the benches, with cries of ‘No Bishops—no commission!’ Before this they had attacked Lambeth Palace, threatening to tear the Archbishop in pieces, and would probably have done so had he not been prepared for them. From that time he knew his life to be in constant peril. An unknown friend had written to warn him that the Scotch Puritans justified assassination, and openly hoped the Primate might meet the same fate as his early friend and patron, the Duke of Buckingham. His integrity and singleness of mind, to which Clarendon gives high testimony, had made him bitter enemies. A hasty temper and sharp mode of speech alienated many who could not but respect him. The difficulties of his task had been doubled by the lax, un-Catholic rule of his predecessor at Lambeth. Both Puritans and Romanists alike reckoned him as their greatest opponent. He was nearly seventy years old, and sadly felt that ‘there wanted not many presages of his ruin and death.’ The King’s return, on October 30, brought a gleam of sunshine.
