While earthly concerns have always nagged at the elevated vision for St Paul’s Cathedral in Dunedin, it is worth remembering that the existence of the landmark building is not much short of miraculous, writes Helen Baker.
Carved for all time into the stone front of St Paul's Cathedral, Bishop Nevill stands holding a model of the building about which he had long dreamed. Although we will never know what he would have made of his cathedral as it stands, the building he adorns is not the majestic creation he cradles in his hand.
The first Anglican Bishop of the Diocese of Dunedin, Nevill was a determined character. It was he who first envisaged an Anglican cathedral for Dunedin and without his unrelenting enthusiasm and persistence it probably would not have come to pass. He firmly believed that no diocese was complete without a cathedral and yearned for the day when the Anglican diocese of Dunedin could be represented by an architectural masterpiece, a centre for Christian worship in the city.
Following the laying of the foundation stone of St Paul's Cathedral in 1915, Bishop Nevill spoke of his long desire for a cathedral for the diocese and said that while he may not live to see it completed he had faith that subsequent generations would carry the project forward. This faith was perhaps somewhat misplaced, as while a cathedral was built, it never quite achieved the scale Nevill originally planned.
This is not to say that the building that sits atop the Octagon today is not an impressive piece of architecture. But its story is one of struggle and, ultimately, compromise. It is a story of grand dreams and strong faith brought back down to earth by the prosaic shackle of the coffers.
It is also a story that resonates with the difficulties St Paul's Cathedral faces today, confronted as it is by a crisis of both finance and faith.
Earlier this year, St Paul's Cathedral Dean the Very Rev Dr Trevor James posted in a blog that the 98-year-old cathedral was at the heart of a "troubled and troubling diocese''.
Cathedral and diocesan council members had met to discuss a plan to reduce the number of Anglican parishes in Dunedin to four.
"A question is whether to keep the cathedral or not and the debate disclosed uncertainty as to why we should have a cathedral and the value [or not] that it represented,'' Dr James wrote.
But it has never been an easy road for the cathedral and its very existence is remarkable, given the circumstances in which it was built.
The Anglican church in Dunedin did not have an easy start, mainly due to the strong Presbyterian tradition in Otago. Anglicans were initially regarded as intruders and not particularly welcomed. Relations had improved by the time Nevill became bishop but the Anglican diocese still faced challenges due to its small size and modest resources.
Anglican worship in Dunedin is a tale of incremental progress. The first services were held in the jail and were taken by a Wesleyan minister. Things took a turn for the better when the services moved from the jail to the courthouse, which was later purchased and used as a temporary church. From 1862, an Anglican church has sat at the top of the Octagon, its central location making it an important centre for Anglican worship.
Bishop Nevill made his first formal plea for a cathedral, at the synod, in 1876 but did not receive an enthusiastic response. Further discussion over following years came to nothing and there was ongoing disagreement over which church should become the seat of the diocese. Nevill himself added to the difficulties by originally preferring the site of St Matthew's, on the corner of Hope and Stafford Sts. However, agreement was finally reached that St Paul's church in the Octagon should become the site of a cathedral and the church was constituted a cathedral by statute in September 1894.
Even at this early stage, when it made the transition from church to cathedral, St Paul's was already in debt. The vestry wanted to hand over control to the incoming chapter without transferring to them a large burden of debt. They didn't quite manage it. Despite efforts to reduce debt, which were not helped by the discovery of embezzlement by the church treasurer, the chapter was still 2500 in debt when it took over.
In December 1889, it was discovered that Mr Ashcroft, church treasurer and railway station master, had embezzled at least 1700 from St Paul's church. It only came to light after he committed suicide in the church, shooting himself on his left side one morning. He was found still conscious by the verger and died soon after in hospital. There was talk at the time that he had taken the fateful action because of money difficulties, but it was not until February of the following year that the full extent of his fraud became apparent.
St Paul's church was now officially a cathedral but there was no money for the construction of a new building to reflect this status. Help didn't arrive until 10 years later, when Mr William Harrop died, leaving about 30,000 to the building of a cathedral. The bequest was on the condition that the trustees of the church raised 20,000 first and work began before the money he had left could be accessed. It seems very likely that without this generous gift, Nevill's dream may have remained just that. It was the gift that spurred the Anglican diocese into action and a large fundraising effort began.
The original plans for the new cathedral were drawn up by Sedding & Wheatley, an architectural partnership based in England. Not everyone agreed immediately with the plans and they were modified a number of times before a design was settled on. With a final stretch of fundraising, both the target of 20,000 was reached and the revised design was agreed upon by 1914. The plans show a towering Gothic structure to be built in the classic cruciform style (in the shape of a cross), with a tower ascending heavenwards from the mid-point of the arms of the cross, known as the transepts.
There were issues with the design even from the start, which Mr Basil Hooper, the supervising architect in Dunedin, discussed in several articles he wrote during the construction of the cathedral. He regarded the size of the site as an issue, which is still apparent today when comparing St Paul's cramped quarters at the top of the Octagon with the spacious grounds of First Church, Dunedin on Moray Pl.
Hooper also made the intriguing suggestion in one of his articles that the cathedral would have looked notably more magnificent had it been placed in the centre of Stuart St with a street on either side joining up at the back of the cathedral. This would have allowed people to stand at the entrance to the cathedral and see all the way down to the railway station. However, he noted that despite these disadvantages, the cathedral was still in a prominent position that visitors should not fail to notice, especially with the stairs from the main entrance flowing down directly into the Octagon.
By convention, cathedrals face east, while the main entrance of the building is at the west end. This is because the altar, for a number of symbolic reasons, is usually placed at the east end. However, the nature of the site did not support an east-facing design and Hooper emphasised that the advantages of having the main entrance and flight of stairs on the Octagon were far too valuable to be lost for the sake of custom. So, St Paul's faces the opposite direction to what is traditional and its main west end actually faces east.
The foundation stone for the cathedral was laid in 1915 in an impressive ceremony led by Bishop Nevill and the Freemasons. The stone was laid by the bishop and the Masonic ceremony was interspersed with prayers and music.
Hooper wrote again about the progress of construction in 1916, emphasising how the interior of the design would be particularly interesting as it would be vaulted in Oamaru stone throughout.
Construction continued but so did the problems. Some simply remained opposed to a new cathedral building and others in the congregation were concerned about a lack of control over decisions affecting them. These disagreements seemed to have died away over time, arguably with the start of World War 1, but did not ease the project into fruition. The war created other problems as it made fundraising difficult, with most people's main efforts focused on the war. It also caused difficulties with supplies and the American green slate tiles for the roof arrived only just in time for completion.'
Unfortunately, though perhaps not unsurprisingly, a lack of funds caused a halt to progress in 1916. The cathedral chapter had to make the unhappy decision to stop construction with only the main nave built and to add a temporary chancel at the "east'' end of the cathedral, which would remain until the rest of the building could be completed.
The consecration service for the opening of St Paul's took place on February 12, 1919. The cathedral was packed to capacity for its first services and Hooper praised the finished interior of the cathedral, admiring the feeling of verticality due to the stone vaulting and the "extreme purity and dignified simplicity of the design''.
Although "completed'', the cathedral, according to the original design, was only one-third finished. It had a nave but this still left the transepts, the "east'' end and the tower all to be built in the future. Hooper expressed dissatisfaction with the profile of the cathedral, arguing that the width and height of the building appeared out of proportion to the length. This is most obvious when viewing the cathedral from north or south. The small chancel on the "east'' side also emphasised its incompleteness, appearing ridiculously small in scale compared to the rest of the building.
The cathedral remained that way until the 1960s, when there was finally formal acceptance that the original design would never be completed. Instead it was decided to build a permanent chancel to replace the temporary one, which meant that the traditional cruciform shape had to be abandoned. The new chancel was designed by Edward "Ted'' McCoy and provided a much improved "east'' end to the cathedral.
Given the financial difficulties faced from the start, it is not surprising that the dreams of those who supported the cathedral project were never entirely realised. The cathedral in the Octagon today still has an impressive entrance and its prominent position prompts many visitors to venture within its doors. However, as they always have, the cathedral and wider diocese continue to face financial difficulties. Now, apparently, coupled with a wider crisis of faith. The building that stands today is a fitting monument; a great accomplishment given the odds stacked against its creation but also less than the earthly masterpiece that Bishop Nevill championed.
Helen Baker is a University of Otago humanities intern at the Otago Daily Times.
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Comments
Why this author is a good journalist, from a reader p.o.v
In this Church and Social History, she writes 'earthly', not 'temporal', 'miraculous', not 'numinous providence'.
Just saying.