“…anchored among the red-brick Queen Anne houses of the weavers.” So John Betjeman described Christ Church, Spitalfields, in The Collins Guide to English Parish Churches.
The Grade I listed church was built following an Act of Parliament in 1711, which legislated for the building of fifty new Church of England churches on the perimeter of London, where new populations were settling. The churches were to be built with tall spires, summoning the migrants to an Anglican form of service and away from the folly of Dissenters.
Christ Church Spitalfields was built between 1714 and 1729 by the architect Nicholas Hawksmoor, in an area which was then dominated by Huguenots. One of the main issues of dissenting communities was that in failing to pledge loyalty to the Church of England, they thereby failed to pledge loyalty to the king. A vibrant and growing population so close to London had to be called to heel.
At first many of the Spitalfields Huguenots continued to worship in their own plain chapels, only using the ornate Christ Church as a place to formalise baptisms, marriages and burials. Over time, however, they assimilated with local Anglican families, and many began to worship in the church as well.
Christ Church, Spitalfields © Huguenot Jo
The land around the church is now the size of a pocket handkerchief, but it used to be far bigger. Altogether 68,000 people were buried within the church grounds. One of them was an ancestor of mine – Pierre Finet, who died in 1739, just ten years after the church was finished. 67,000 of the total were buried outside the church, but a thousand were granted a place inside the church crypt. These places were paid for, often by people who were afraid of body-snatchers.
If only Pierre Finet had been able to afford that privilege, we would now know a great deal about him. When the church was restored at the end of the twentieth century, the burial vaults in the crypt had to be cleared of its skeletons. Thanks to local interest in the church, funds were raised for an archaeological team to excavate the graves between 1984 and 1986. The remains of a thousand people were forensically analysed - archaeologists and anthropologists picked over the bones, researching the health and causes of death of this very specific local population, in what was to become a landmark study.
The results were published in 1993 by the Council for British Archaeology and can be found here:
The Spitalfields Project: Volume 1 the archaeology: across the Styx by Jez Reeve and Max Adams and The Spitalfields Project: Volume 2 the anthropology: the middling sort by Theya Molleson and Margaret Cox with A H Waldron and D K Whittaker. In 1996, a more popular account was published as Life and Death in Spitalfields 1700 to 1850 by Margaret Cox.
21 Fournier Street, Spitalfields © Huguenot Jo
Sadly I don’t know what happened to Pierre Finet’s bones, or what he ate for breakfast. He was born in Amiens, France, and was probably not well off – I have no record of his occupation, but he may well have been a weaver. His grand-daughter married into a Huguenot weaving family, the Bacheliers, and they allow me to claim that gold standard in Huguenot heritage: descent from Spitalfields silk weavers.
My abiding memory of Christ Church is how big it is outside yet small inside. My stepdaughter lived in Fournier Street for a while. Lodging in the loft of number 31. A famous house indeed. Sadly she died young in 2017 and I was at her funeral in Christ Church. Normally I stay in London for Christmas and go to Christ Church Christmas day service. Not this year.
You’re right, Bob – so imposing on the outside, yet warm and friendly inside. I’m sorry to read about your stepdaughter; Christ Church must bring back bittersweet memories. I hope you will manage to have a happy Christmas this year.
A lovely piece, reminding me of a visit four years ago as part of Open London both to the church and the inside of one of the houses. Looking at my photographs both seem surprising simple. My own uncle felt so strongly about the way the church uses the act of marriage as part of its weaponry in exerting power over the state and thus the population that he rejected marriage in all its forms. Sadly he didn’t live long enough for me to find out whether he would also have rejected a purely civil ceremony.
Yes, that’s why the reign of Henry VIII is interesting – not because of his array of wives per se, but because of the relationship between church and state; the break from Rome, and the tumultuous development of the Church of England.
Jo what a wonderful piece. You have a fine title for a novel, “The Bones of Pierre Finet” (the word ‘bone’ in a novel title seems to be attractive to publishers at the moment). You could tell us all about what he might have had for breakfast, what infirmities he could have suffered on his journey from Amiens to London, exacerbated by his work. You could sit in the pocket-handkerchief churchyard and muse on his life and family, weaving your ‘now’ with his, through the long procession of your family links. How fascinating to be able to trace your people, by name, through the silk weavers of Spitalfields and beyond.
Such a glorious image of Christ Church— I’m not sure if I would want to see it all of a piece or if the need to scroll up and down makes it even more imposing, revealed as it is, level by level. How interesting that the mysterious Hawksmoor, “the devil’s architect”, was chosen to build some of the London churches whose purpose was to entice Dissenting immigrants into the Church of England. I am sure William Blake, connected to my family through spiritual interests and by membership of the Moravian church, would have appreciated the mystical symbology Hawksmoor incorporated into his churches.
I realise that this piece has prompted a question in my own mind as to what a Strict Baptist church was like inside and maybe how you felt as a child. Was it warm and friendly or like mine, cold and draughty, a duty more than a pleasure? Did you study the texts or drift off in a dream? Did you sing or have music?
Church for me, in our school High Anglican Church meant the agony of sitting on a hard pew trying to stay awake through a boring, adult oriented sermon but enjoying some of the hymns. Without wishing it the Protestant ethic seeped into my life – too much of which has been all work and no play! Sunday matins was saved by the organ playing by our music mistress, Mrs Carr. She would play Bach’s Air on G as we dutifully filed into our pews, trying to appear suitably devout. There was something mischievous in her choice for the end of the matins – Bach’s magical Toccata and Fugue in D minor. I loved that music. It bounced off the stone walls and ceiling. We danced out of church – especially when we had one of the rare half day visits home. It still gives me joy.
A very elegantly written and interesting post, rather like the church itself. Fascinating too the way you manage to link so cleverly all the different aspects of the church from the way the Dissenters were regarded by the powers that be, to what happened to the remains of the people who were buried there and finally how it all relates to you. As usual, the strength of your writing comes through and makes what you want to convey compelling reading.
As ever a fascinating read Jo and lovely clear photographs. Make me want to visit.
Extraordinary glimpse of Parliament using the Anglican church as a mechanism to achieve social control, even down to specifying the use of the architecture- the tall spires- as an early 18th century expression of power. It made me think of the merchant families of medieval Italy boasting of their relative power with their tall towers- like those surviving in San Giminiano. It seems unthinkable to the modern eye that people should be forced to submit to the link between (Anglican) Church and State to formalise births, marriages and deaths etc pushing the Huguenots to adopt Anglican practices for their most important rites of passage. Christ Church Spitalfields is indeed a ‘galleon’ …leading a subtle attack on the beliefs of the local ‘flock.’ Amazing number of burials in the one churchyard and crypt. Thank you for the links to the archaeological study -what incredible detail they managed to obtain. Shame Pierre Finet did not get buried in the crypt.
Was 21 Spitalfields an example of the Queen Anne style houses of the weavers or was it linked to Pierre Finet?
It’s an example, Ann, but I would love to find out where Pierre Finet lived. I think it should be possible.
You make some great observations about Church and State. In terms of visiting, there are often guided tours run by The Huguenots of Spitalfields, and I’ll be posting details of those in future.
Hi Jo – Great post – The ‘pocket sized’ piece of land in which your ancestor was buried is being enlarged again for the first time in 40 years. After an illegal building was built on the land in the 90s by the church, the Court of Arches last year agreed that it must be demolished as the land is legally open space and is consecrated. This has led to a group of local volunteers to start to clear the garden, plant and bring it back to life (it has already doubled in size). Sadly, nearly all the gravestones and markers where removed in the 90s to make way for that building – but working there yesterday I noticed that there are numbers carved along the length of the church on the outside which mark out the graveyard space – I wonder if on the burial record there is a reference to that marking, and if so you might be able to find the location (although not the marker) to locate the grave of your ancestor?
Thank you, Tom – I will certainly be doing future posts about Pierre Finet and Christ Church Spitalfields; this is just the start. I’ll see what more I can find out about his burial. Meanwhile, I hope I can speak for him in thanking you for the work you’re doing on the garden (and for helping us get great shots for this website). The church is so significant to those of us with a Huguenot connection – it’s hard to overstate it.
A delightfully informative post. Evocative and with streaks of humour. I know the church and you bring it to life for the reader. It’s on my list of post-lockdown trips back to normality. Can one give greater praise?
Thanks, Patrick, glad you enjoyed it. The church interior has been changed recently – the pews have gone, in favour of chairs, and there are huge screens. The music is composed by young members of the congregation, who perform it with the accoutrements of a pop band. I haven’t myself been inside it recently, but have chatted about it with residents of Fournier Street.