Bell's Cathedrals: The Priory Church of St. Bartholomew-the-Great, Smithfield: A Short History of the Foundation and a Description of the

In Short

This architectural guide details the foundation, ruin, and eventual revival of the Priory Church of St. Bartholomew-the-Great in Smithfield, London. Originating from a courtier's vision in 1123, the fabric survived the Henrician Dissolution, centuries of secular encroachments—including a blacksmith's forge and a fringe factory—and the threat of total demolition. George Worley records how late Victorian restorations meticulously rescued the ancient Norman work. The book endures because it captures the quiet resilience of medieval architecture, offering an authoritative, highly specific record of how a community reclaimed a sacred space from industrial desecration.

The Story

The chronicle opens in 1123 with Rahere, a courtier to King Henry I, who undergoes a spiritual awakening during a pilgrimage to Rome. Struck with a severe fever, he vows to build a hospital for the poor upon his recovery. St. Bartholomew subsequently appears to him in a vision, commanding him to construct a church in the suburb of Smithfield. Despite the site being a swampy waste reserved for public executions, Rahere secures royal permission and begins building the Augustinian Priory and Hospital with the help of Bishop Richard de Belmeis.

For four centuries, the priory flourishes as a major religious institution, adding a Lady Chapel around 1410 and structural modifications under Prior Bolton in the early sixteenth century. This era of monastic life comes to a sudden end in 1539 when Robert Fuller, the last Augustinian prior, surrenders the entire property to Henry VIII during the Dissolution of the Monasteries. The monastic wealth is liquidated, and the property passes into secular hands.

The centuries following the Dissolution witness a severe decline in the building’s fortunes. During Elizabeth I's reign, Bishop Edmund Grindal even proposes stripping the lead roof to repair St. Paul’s Cathedral, suggesting the parish move into the refectory instead. Over time, commercial operations systematically encroach upon the sacred structure. A fringe factory occupies the triforium and projects over the altar, a blacksmith’s forge sets up shop in the north transept, and the crypt is turned into a coal and wine cellar.

The tide finally turns in the nineteenth century. Driven by dedicated rectors and the patron Rev. F. P. Phillips—who personally spends thousands of pounds to buy out the fringe factory—a massive restoration effort begins. Architects, most notably Sir Aston Webb, step in to buy back secular leases, clear out heavy industrial waste, and restore the missing structural elements. Webb rebuilds the apse clerestory in the Perpendicular style, recovers the Lady Chapel, and refaces the damaged exterior using flint and Portland stone, ultimately bringing the medieval sanctuary back into active service.

How It Unfolds

A vision in Rome Falling dangerously ill abroad, the courtier Rahere vows to erect a hospital, whereupon St. Bartholomew commands him in a dream to construct a church at Smithfield. Upon returning to London, Rahere secures a grant of marshy royal land and establishes the Augustinian priory in 1123.

Surrender to the Crown After four centuries of growth, Prior Robert Fuller surrenders the church and its valuable monastic estates to King Henry VIII in 1539. The Crown sells off the conventual lands, leaving the ancient fabric vulnerable to neglect, decay, and secular conversion.

Desecration and trade Throughout the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, the church suffers structural degradation while industrial trades overrun its precincts. A blacksmith's forge occupies the north transept, a fringe factory invades the sanctuary, and the crypt becomes a commercial cellar.

The modern reclamation Beginning in the mid-nineteenth century, a dedicated committee raises tens of thousands of pounds to buy out commercial leases. Led by Sir Aston Webb, restorers clear out industrial debris, reconstruct destroyed transepts, and fully restore the choir, crypt, and Lady Chapel.

The People

• Rahere: The founder and first prior, who transitions from a court jester or courtier to a pious builder. Driven by a solemn vow made during illness and a vision of St. Bartholomew, he overcomes the obstacles of a marshy execution ground to erect the original church and hospital, ultimately buried beneath an ornate tomb in the choir.
• Bishop Edmund Grindal: The Elizabethan Bishop of London who views the decaying church as a source of raw materials. Wanting to strip its heavy lead roof to repair St. Paul's Cathedral, he advocates moving the congregation into the adjacent refectory.
• Rev. F. P. Phillips: The nineteenth-century patron of the living who acts as the primary financial catalyst for the church's salvation. He spends £6,500 of his own money to purchase the encroaching fringe factory and personally finances the reconstruction of the apse.
• Sir Aston Webb: The distinguished Victorian architect tasked with returning the church to its original structural integrity. He carefully separates modern additions from medieval remains, rebuilding the Lady Chapel, transepts, and clerestory while preserving original Norman masonry.

In Its Own Voice

"I am Bartholomew, the Apostle of Jesus Christ, that come to succour thee in thine anguish, and to open to thee the secret mysteries of heaven."

— St. Bartholomew addresses Rahere in a vision, commanding the creation of the Smithfield church.

"St. Bartholomew's Churche, adjoining to my L. Rich's house, is in decaye, and so increaseth dailye. It hath an heavie coate of lead, wch wolde doe a verie goode service for the Mother Churche of Powles."

— Bishop Edmund Grindal writes to Sir William Cecil in 1563 proposing to strip the church's roof.

"Behold yourselves by us; Such once were we as you; And you in time shall be Even dust as we are now."

— An English moral inscription recorded from a monument in the church choir.

What It's Really About

The text explores the tension between architectural survival and urban consumption. It demonstrates how sacred spaces are continually threatened by political shifts and commercial greed, only to be saved by individual stewardship. Beyond a simple architectural history, the narrative argues that physical structures carry the spiritual memory of a community. The persistence of Rahere's Norman core through centuries of desecration illustrates how heritage can survive centuries of systematic neglect when sustained by dedicated preservation.

Why Read It Today

This volume appeals to readers who appreciate London history, medieval ecclesiastical architecture, and the mechanics of historic preservation. Reading it feels like taking a private, expert-led tour through hidden stone corridors, where every arch, capital, and brass fitting tells a story of survival. Worley writes with an unpretentious, scholarly clarity that brings technical architectural features into sharp focus.

The primary difficulty for modern readers lies in its dense architectural terminology and detailed structural inventories, such as exact building dimensions, organ stop specifications, and heraldic descriptions. However, what stays with you is the sheer absurdity and triumph of the church's narrative: the image of a high Victorian architect carefully dismantling a blacksmith's forge and a fringe factory from the middle of a twelfth-century Norman sanctuary to let the light back into its ancient choir.