Bell's Cathedrals: The Cathedral Church of Saint Paul: An Account of the Old and New Buildings with a Short Historical Sketch

In Short

Arthur Dimock’s historical and architectural survey traces the evolution of St. Paul's Cathedral in London from its early Anglo-Norman origins through devastating fires, political upheavals, and grand reconstructions. Written as an authoritative guide, the book details the physical transformations, internal layout, and administrative history of both the medieval building and Sir Christopher Wren’s masterpiece. Enduring as a precise architectural record, it offers readers an immersive look at structural mechanics, artistic decorations, and civic ritual. It has survived as a definitive reference by blending technical analysis with historical context.

The Story

The chronicle opens in the shadows of early English history, passing quickly over Romano-British uncertainties to record the establishment of the Christian faith in the East Saxon province before the seventh century. The early structural history of St. Paul's is defined by constant vulnerability. A ninth-century building succumbs to fire in 962, only to be rebuilt amid continuous threats from Danish raids. Royal burials—including Primate Elfege, Ethelred the Unready, and Edward the Outlaw—anchor the cathedral in the nation's royal destiny, while Anglo-Norman bishops gradually shape its administrative authority.

When fire again levels the church in 1086, Bishop Maurice initiates the construction of a vast Norman cathedral. Stone brought by barges from Caen erects massive arches that astound local citizens. Over centuries, this medieval structure expands into "Old St. Paul's," a bustling complex surrounded by cloisters, a bell tower, and collegiate offices. The cathedral becomes an active civic center, hosting daily masses, chorister performances, and elaborate holiday processions where suspended censers swing down the nave and white pigeons are released to symbolize the Holy Spirit.

This medieval grandeur begins to erode during the Reformation. Under Edward VI, royal commissioners seize chantry endowments, dismantle altars, strip precious jewels, and sell embroidered vestments to foreign cathedrals. Sacred spaces are desecrated, cloisters demolished for building materials, and the churchyard turned over to commercial uses. Decades of neglect leave the masonry decay-ridden, a state exacerbated when Inigo Jones cases the nave in fresh stone without addressing deep structural weaknesses.

The ultimate catastrophe strikes in September 1666. The Great Fire of London consumes the city, crossing the empty churchyard space to catch the timber roofs. Booksellers who stored inventory in the crypt of St. Faith’s watch in horror as the flames melt lead roofs and shatter stone vaults. Eyewitnesses observe the cathedral blaze so brightly that text can be read miles away at night.

From the ashes rises the era of Sir Christopher Wren. Navigating financial constraints funded by coal import duties, competing committees, and theological debates, Wren drafts multiple designs. Rebuffed on his grand Greek-cross rotunda, he compromises with a Latin cross layout while secretly preserving structural elements he considers essential. Over decades, Wren oversees every detail: laying deep foundations over irregular strata, raising the timber and lead exterior dome above the inner brick cone, and fashioning spacious transepts. Later centuries add monumental statues honoring military heroes like Nelson and Moore, while mosaic projects adorn the quarter domes with biblical scenes, cementing the modern cathedral's visual legacy.

How It Unfolds

The medieval foundation The early narrative charts the seventh-century origins of the diocese through Anglo-Saxon trials, Danish invasions, and disastrous blazes, culminating in Bishop Maurice's ambition to erect a massive Anglo-Norman cathedral using imported Caen stone following the destructive fire of 1086.

The life of Old St. Paul's Daily liturgical hours, chorister boy-bishop traditions, and civic processions define medieval life within the cathedral walls, accompanied by royal weddings, political assemblies, and the accumulation of vast relics and chapels throughout the churchyard complex.

Reformation and physical decay Protestant reform movements under Edward VI strip the interior of wealth, dismantle chantries, and repurpose cloisters for secular construction, initiating a period of physical neglect where stone arcades deteriorate despite superficial exterior re-casing by Inigo Jones.

The catastrophe of 1666 The Great Fire engulfs London, jumping the churchyard buffer to ignite dry roof timbers and book stocks stored within the crypts, destroying the ancient medieval structure in a spectacular nocturnal conflagration visible across the Thames.

Wren's vision and construction Architect Sir Christopher Wren battles royal warrants, administrative commissions, and changing liturgical requirements to erect the modern cathedral, balancing mathematical precision, foundation mechanics, and structural compromises like the disputed north and south chapels.

Decorations and modern legacy The focus shifts to modern interior detailing, itemizing military monuments, structural measurements, and elaborate mosaic programs installed across the quarter-domes depicting biblical visions of resurrection and creation.

The People

• Sir Christopher Wren: The brilliant Surveyor-General who desires to create a rational, unified architectural masterpiece. He contends with committee interference, financial limitations, and shifting religious requirements, ultimately fashioning the iconic double-domed landmark through sheer structural engineering.
• Bishop Maurice: The ambitious Norman prelate who, after the fire of 1086, conceives Old St. Paul's on a scale never before seen in London, securing fresh land and ordering Caen stone to build grand arches.
• Edward Strong (Father and Son): Master stonemasons responsible for executing Wren’s designs, repairing foundation fractures, and settling the structural legs of the dome as the massive weight presses into uneven loamy soil.
• Bishop Ridley: A committed Protestant reformer under Edward VI who attempts to maintain order within the cathedral amidst public unrest, supporting displaced predecessors while enforcing strict doctrinal shifts that dismantle medieval interior ornament.
• Samuel Pepys and William Taswell: Historical witnesses whose recorded accounts document the terror of the Great Fire; Taswell, a young schoolboy, famously reads a pocket edition of Terence by the light of the burning cathedral roof.

In Its Own Voice

"Barges came up the river with stone from Caen for the great arches that moved the popular wonder, while street and lane were being levelled to make space for the famous churchyard of St. Paul's."

A description of the Norman effort to rebuild the cathedral on an unprecedented scale following the fire of 1086.

"The flames gradually encircled the churchyard; the goods there took fire, and the flames caught the end of a board placed on the roof to keep out the wet. The Nemesis of neglect!"

An account of how structural deferated maintenance directly allowed the Great Fire of 1666 to consume Old St. Paul's.

"He wore a long mantle of white, shaded to red, probably to prevent the white rays spreading too much."

A detail highlighting the exact artistic considerations used when applying late nineteenth-century mosaics to the dome interior.

What It's Really About

At its core, the book explores the dynamic interplay between human institutional ambition and physical vulnerability. It argues that a cathedral is not a static monument, but a living civic organism shaped by religious politics, architectural compromise, and structural necessity. Dimock demonstrates how political shifts—from Norman conquest to Protestant iconoclasm—leave direct marks on stone and mortar. The narrative asks how an architectural structure can survive both natural cataclysms and human folly, showing that Wren's modern dome is as much a triumph of political negotiation and engineering persistence as it is an artistic creation. It celebrates structural durability amidst inevitable historical flux.

Why Read It Today

This volume appeals directly to architectural enthusiasts, London historians, and readers who delight in precise historical scholarship devoid of modern commentary or romanticized fluff. Reading Dimock offers the sensation of walking alongside a meticulous guide who understands load-bearing math, masonry weaknesses, and civic records with equal clarity. The text leaves you with a profound appreciation for the sheer engineering required to raise a dome into the sky before modern machinery existed.

Readers should be prepared for period difficulties: the book contains technical architectural jargon—such as pendantives, severies, and triforiums—alongside lengthy catalog-style lists detailing internal dimensions and military statues. Its perspective reflects late-nineteenth-century ecclesiastical scholarship, prioritizing factual inventory over narrative drama. Yet, for those seeking an authentic, highly grounded understanding of how a nation's greatest cathedral was built, lost, and raised again, Dimock’s study remains an indispensable companion.