On a Grander Scale: The outstanding career of Sir Christopher Wren by Lisa Jardine, HarperCollins, £25, ISBN 0007107757 Reviewed by Patricia Fara
THE short version of Christopher Wren’s life (possibly the shortest ever) appeared about a hundred years ago. It goes like this: “Sir Christopher Wren/Said, ‘I am going to dine with some men,/If anybody calls,/Say I am designing St Paul’s.'”
Now Lisa Jardine has produced a much longer biography, which shows how England’s greatest architect also helped build the foundations of modern science. Aptly titled On a Grander Scale, this blockbuster of a book is the first full account of Wren’s climb to prestige amid the political intrigues of 17th-century England.
Advertisement
Unlike modern specialists, Wren and his colleagues experimented across the disciplines. During a single session at the Crown pub, Wren boasted about curing his wife’s thrush by hanging a bag of live bog lice round her neck, and solving Kepler’s problem of cycloids.
A keen astronomer, he published ground-breaking work on the rings of Saturn, but also retained a lifelong interest in medicine. One of his earliest feats was doping a dog with a massive injection of opium. That dog survived but another one, the unfortunate recipient of a poisonous emetic, was less lucky: Wren coolly reported that “the animal immediately fell a Vomitting, & so vomited till he died”.
He also rapidly gained a reputation for mechanical ingenuity, inventing a plethora of devices such as a micrometer screw gauge, a seed drill for sowing corn, and a double writing machine to produce two copies of a document simultaneously.
Being in the right political camp was vital. Wren’s fortunes plummeted after Charles I lost his head. Like many of his Royalist colleagues he was forced to cover his tracks, leaving mysterious gaps in the records. But his star soared when the monarchy was restored.
Despite being a leading player at the new Royal Society, however, Wren opted for architecture. Launched by his influential uncle, he began landing important commissions, and 10 years later was the obvious candidate to design the Royal Observatory at Greenwich – a project that combined his twin passions, astronomy and architecture.
When Jardine discovered that Wren’s Monument to the Great Fire of London doubled up as a scientific instrument, she resolved to elevate her hero above his far more celebrated contemporary, Isaac Newton. “Reader, if you require a monument, look around you” – so translates the plaque above Wren’s tomb in St Paul’s Cathedral. For modern readers, Jardine has produced a cathedral-sized book, her own monumental tribute to a scientific and architectural virtuoso.