St Bartholomew the Great: Did Mary I Watch Heretics Burn from Here?

My time-travelling friends, venture together. Welcome, my time-travelling friend. I am so happy that you have found your way here to reach the next destination in our seven-day tour of Tudor London, the Priory of Saint Bartholomew the Great, adjacent to Smithfield. Saint Bartholomew's lies on the north-east side of the city, just outside the city walls. To reach your destination from the tower, you have had to walk across the City of London, down its principal east-west highway, Cheapside, where goldsmiths and jewellers ply their wares, before turning to walk north, just north of the enormous Gothic Abbey of St Paul's, and then underneath Aldersgate, and on into Smithfield. So, here we are, just outside the Priory gatehouse. The church was once a Priory church, part of a much larger Augustinian foundation, and it contains some exceptionally fine Norman and medieval architecture, alongside the Chapel of St John at the tower. In your lifetime, my friend, you are unlikely to see finer Norman architecture anywhere in the city. The church of Saint Bartholomew the Great, as we see it today, is, as I say, all that remains of a once mighty Augustinian Priory, whose original church measured a massive 300 feet long and 86 feet wide. It was founded in 1123 by Priory Rahere, Henry II's minstrel turned holy man, whose ancient tomb can still be seen near the high altar. In days gone by, before the dissolution of the monasteries and other religious houses in England, the great west doors of the Priory church stood in line with where we see the gatehouse today. The stone façade of the western end of the Priory would have risen up above you, whilst behind you was the open space of Smithfield, where heretics were occasionally burnt at the stake. And you may well hear the legend that Mary I watched these gory executions from the gatehouse itself. However, I can assure you that this is a stuff of myth and wild imaginings, as we shall hear more about shortly. After the dissolution, the entire west end of the nave was dismantled by its new owner, the powerful Sir Richard Rich, one-time creature of Thomas Cromwell, before the latter met his end upon the scaffold. Now while the nave has gone, the gatehouse remains. But the one you see in your day comprises a 13th century arch, once part of the original nave and now topped by a two-storey late 16th century building. The story of its survival is a wondrous thing. Having escaped being burnt to the ground during the Great Fire of London, a Georgian property owner who clearly had little time for the old-fashioned Tudor façade gave it a fashionable makeover. It was then used for two centuries as a shop. Its original fronting lost and soon forgotten. However, during a bombing raid in 1916, part of the Georgian fronting fell away, revealing the Tudor building beneath. And this was finally restored in 1932 and can still be enjoyed in all its splendour in your time. But let us pass beneath this gatehouse while I tell you a little bit more about its history. In 1539, as I mentioned, Sir Richard Rich bought the church and the surrounding land, subdividing it for housing. Over half of the original priory church was demolished. Then, in 1595, the wooden Tudor gatehouse was constructed above a surviving stone archway. And if you pass under the archway and turn to look back over your shoulder, you will see the doorway leading into the building. The dates 1240 and 1932 are inscribed in the stonework commemorating the year of the arch's construction and restoration. You are now standing on a path that leads ahead to a porch and a doorway and this in turn leads into the current church. This path runs along the length of what was once the south aisle of the main body of the priory church. To your left sits the cemetery on the site of the main body of the nave. If you look to the west end of the current parish church, you can see just how disjointed and off-balance it seems. Of course, this is due to the destruction of the nave to which it was once attached. Walking along the path, a doorway, now lost, once connected the aisle of the west walk to the cloisters off to your right. An early account of London written by Charles Knight in 1851 gives a description of what still remained of the cloister buildings at that time. Some arches, groins, keystones and elaborately carved devices. Sadly, most of the cloisters have long since gone. However, part of the east walk survives and can be accessed from within the church.