Illustration of Stepney Church, London

The Churches Of The Metropolis No. XV – Stepney Church

By those who delight in Mrs. Gore’s pleasant fancies, and participate in her delicate horrors of the undiscovered wilds of Bedford-square, we fear the subject of our present sketch will be voted in terra incognita; but as we have the bump of benevolence extensively developed, and have the good fortune to be versed in oriental lore and localities, we may mention that Stepney is situate in the east end of London, and comprises nearly the whole space between Mile-end-road and the river Thames from Whitechapel to Bow. This fine old church, one of the most ancient, indeed, in the metropolis, is well worthy a visit, and the densely-filled churchyard, perhaps, still more so to those who delight in grave pursuits. We would not by any means recommend too large a dose of Hervey, but we envy not the man who could spend an hour in this “silent city.

Illustration of Forrest Hill Church

Nooks And Corners Of Old England – Forrest Hill, Oxfordshire

On a rising ground to the left of the road from Oxford to London, through Wycombe, and at the distance of four miles from Oxford, stands the little church of Forrest Hill; its gabled bell turret, containing two bells in open arches, rising above the surrounding foliage, forming a conspicuous and highly picturesque object. Forrest Hill is a long, straggling village, built on a ridge of land beyond the church, which occupies alone the brow of the hill. The churchyard is small, and surrounded and overhung with trees: the hollies, the yews, and weeping willows, all in the utmost luxuriance, forming a beautiful contrast with each other, and giving to the graveyard that spirit of quiet and holiness which always ought to be the characteristic of the church, which was dedicated to St. Nicholas the Confessor, on the 6th July, 1273, is small and compact, being composed of one aisle, divided into nave and chancel. At the west end is a fine early English bell-gable, and two singularly large buttresses standing out in bold projection.

Illustration of the church of St. Mary-le-Bow, Cheapside

The Churches Of The Metropolis No. XI – St. Mary-le-Bow, Cheapside

The early histories of the greater number of old buildings in London, both ecclesiastical and otherwise, are connected with so many and such strange events, placing vividly before us a state of society entirely different from what we are accustomed to, that they have the air rather of romantic fictions than of literal records; but serve nevertheless to show the changes which have taken place, and to impress strongly upon us, amongst other lessons, the advantages which have attended the spread of education. This must have been apparent in many of our former accounts, but in none is it more so than in that of the church we are about to illustrate, St. Mary-le-Bow, which, if not originally a Roman temple, as was generally believed, was one of the earliest churches built by our Norman conquerors; has been destroyed by storm and fire; was at one time garrisoned and besieged; and was afterwards the scene of an assassination. To go, however, a little more into detail :—

Illustration of the church of St. Paul's Covent-Garden

The Churches Of The Metropolis No. VIII – St. Paul’s, Covent-Garden

When Francis Duke of Bedford, in the reign of the first Charles, proposed to erect a place of worship for his tenantry in the then thinly populated locality of the Convent-Garden, he called to his councils the celebrated Inigo Jones, suggesting, as we find it recorded, that “anything—a barn would do;” an expression sounding more of the prudence than of the piety of the said Francis. The architect took the hint, and thence arose, in 1640, the Palladian structure of which we now behold a duplicate; the original building having been destroyed in 1795, through the carelessness of some workmen engaged in its repair. The contemplation of this edifice has given rise to a shrewd suspicion on our mind, that the above venerable anecdote relating to its origin may have been the after-thought of some architectural critic, whose admiration for the designer of Whitehall was stronger than his respect for the memory of the Duke. Be that as it may, the structure, for several years, was merely known as the Chapel of Ease to St. Martin’s-in-the-Fields, until 1645, when it was erected into a separate living, and, in the year of the Restoration (1660), the patronage was vested in the Duke of Bedford; the whilom chapelry becoming known as the church and parish of St. Paul, Covent-Garden.