St James Garlickhythe, London
St James Garlickhythe is a Church of England parish church in the City of London, one of the remarkable survivor churches designed by Sir Christopher Wren following the catastrophic Great Fire of London in 1666. It stands on Garlick Hill, just off Upper Thames Street, and forms part of that extraordinary constellation of Wren churches that still punctuate the modern City's skyline. The church is dedicated to Saint James the Apostle, and the curious suffix "Garlickhythe" derives from the medieval wharf that once stood nearby on the Thames, where garlic was unloaded and traded — a reminder that this part of London was once intimately connected to the river trade. It is a place of genuine historical depth, sitting on a site of Christian worship that predates the Norman Conquest, with documentary evidence of a church here stretching back to at least 1100.
The medieval church that occupied this site before 1666 was entirely consumed in the Great Fire, and Wren rebuilt it between 1676 and 1683 in his characteristically elegant and rational baroque style. The steeple was added somewhat later, completed around 1717, and is considered one of Wren's most refined — slender, tiered, and luminously white against the sky. The interior is notable among Wren's City churches for being unusually light and airy, earning it the affectionate nickname "Wren's lantern." Large clear-glass windows flood the nave with natural light, illuminating the fine woodwork of the pews, the carved pulpit, and the elegant ironwork screens. The church also contains a historic organ, and its acoustics make it a valued venue for lunchtime concerts that have long been a tradition in City churches.
One of the more macabre and fascinating details of St James Garlickhythe is the presence of a mummified human body that was discovered within the church and displayed in a glass case for many years. Known informally as "Jimmy Garlick," this desiccated figure is believed to date from the Roman or early medieval period and was found during excavations, a silent testament to the extraordinary longevity of this site as a place of human significance. The remains are no longer on prominent public display, but their existence speaks to the deep layers of history compressed beneath and within this small urban church.
The surrounding area sits within the historic ward of Vintry, itself named after the medieval wine merchants who traded along this stretch of the Thames. The church is only a short walk from the river, and nearby landmarks include the Mansion House, the Bank of England, and St Paul's Cathedral, which looms magnificently to the northwest. Cannon Street station is close at hand, and the whole neighbourhood forms part of the dense, layered urban fabric of the Square Mile. The streets here are relatively quiet compared to the busier commercial zones nearby, and the church occupies its corner with a certain quiet authority, its white Portland stone standing out against the surrounding glass and steel of modern office buildings.
Visiting St James Garlickhythe is a rewarding experience for anyone with an interest in architecture, history, or simply the texture of London's past. The church is typically open on weekday lunchtimes, though hours can vary and it is worth checking ahead. It is an active parish church and also serves the local community of City workers and residents. The nearest Underground stations are Cannon Street and Mansion House, both on the District and Circle lines, making it easily accessible. The immediate area is pedestrian-friendly, and the church can be combined with a walk along the Thames Path or a visit to several other nearby Wren churches such as St Michael Paternoster Royal and St Mary Aldermary.
One further point of interest is that the church was damaged by a crane accident in 1991, when a construction crane collapsed during a storm and struck the roof, causing significant damage to the steeple and interior. The subsequent restoration took several years and was a careful and skilled piece of conservation work that returned the church to something very close to its Wren-era appearance. This relatively recent episode of near-destruction and careful resurrection is in its own way a continuation of the church's long story of survival — through fire, war, accident, and the relentless transformation of the city around it.