I always feel sorry for Dick Whittington because he did about as much good as it’s possible for one man to do – he opened an almshouse for the poor, built a new school for the kids, refurbished a dilapidated old gaol – and what do we remember him for? As a Christmas panto character. In real life this guy was Mother Theresa! But we stick him in a pair of tights, throw some custard pies in his face, and send everyone home from the theatre believing he’s fictitious.
They don’t even get his backstory right because in the pantomime he’s portrayed as a poor boy (he was a very rich man), gets fired for theft (he was a very generous philanthropist), has a chat with a cat (he hated cats), and becomes friends with a fairy (there’s no such thing as fairies).
The real Dick Whittington
The real Dick Whittington became a very rich merchant by sending his ‘cats’ to Africa (‘cats’ was a type of boat in those days, so that’s presumably where his sidekick cat came from). Then he ran for Mayor a few times and ended up as a Member of Parliament. So all of that panto pap about a bedraggled little beggar boy bounding down Highgate Hill believing the streets were paved with gold is total baloney.
This little church was his local and you’ll notice in their stained-glass window that they’ve portrayed him as a man about town, like a flat-cap country gent, and included his cartoon cat. So it’s obviously been based on the panto character. Other churches show Biblical scenes and angels and saints in their religious windows, but St. Michael’s has based theirs on the plot of a Christmas kids’ show. How mad is that!
In the window above the altar they’ve included another unlikely guest: Satan. It’s not often that the devil gets a death scene by an altar but here he is, being speared through the throat by St. Michael. It’s quite a bloodthirsty spectacle for such a peace-loving building.
Apart from the windows there’s not a lot else to see. The guts of Christopher Wren’s rebuild were destroyed when the Nazis dropped a V1 Doodlebug on top (and those things we’re impossible to aim, so it was an incredibly unlucky hit). Only the tower and walls survive from his time, and the rest is just plain plaster and panelling from the 1960s. I think it looks more like a courtroom than a church.
Dick Whittington’s grave is supposed to be under the floor somewhere, but nobody knows where. They buried him. Lost him. Forgot him. Then resurrected him as a panto star.
If you enjoy this then try St. Bride’s (walk it in 14 mins or travel from Cannon Street to St Pauls via tube); St. Dunstan-in-the-West (walk it in 18 mins or travel from Cannon Street to Temple by tube) and St. Magnus-the-Martyr (you can walk it in 6 mins). If you’re interested in Dick Whittington then you might like to visit St. Mary-le-Bow and the Guildhall
