What lies beneath: secrets of the crypt at St Paul’s

Fear not, my easily spooked subterranean traveller! This ain’t no dusty old dungeon, full of cobwebs and dark corners. Well, ok, you might find a bit of that if you poke around enough, but the whole space is otherwise fairly well illuminated, with colourful light filtering through stained-glass windows. It’s pretty accessible too – there’s stair-free access from the South Churchyard and the floors are surprisingly even for a 350-year-old crypt. As for ghosts? Well, we can’t promise anything, but those slow shuffling noises and muffled screams are far more likely to be coming from fellow tourists waiting in line for the loo than from the unquiet spirit of Horatio Nelson, here to photobomb your sarcophagus selfies.

Most of the crypt’s permanent residents would have arrived here by horse-drawn funeral carriage, but you don’t need to bother with that kind of showboating these days.

Train

Your nearest Underground station is St Paul’s on the red Central Line. The cathedral is a two-minute stroll from here, revealing itself in all its domed glory as you turn the corner onto St Paul’s Churchyard. Other nearby Tube stops include Mansion House (Circle and District lines, about a 5-minute walk), Blackfriars (Circle and District lines, about an 8-minute walk), and Bank (Central, Northern and Waterloo & City lines, and the DLR, around a 7-minute walk).

The closest overground station is City Thameslink, a little over five minutes away on foot

Bus

There are several London bus routes – from 4 to 521 – that will drop you off within skipping distance of the cathedral’s cinematic steps. Hop off at any stop within sight of the dome, including Ludgate Hill, Cheapside and, of course, St Paul’s Cathedral.

Bike

Arrive like a Londoner: there are Santander Cycle docking stations around St Paul’s, including at New Change and Queen Victoria Street.

No prizes for guessing who’s buried in this one. No, it’s not Nelson Mandela, you wags! And Willie Nelson isn’t even dead yet. Tsk. We’re of course talking about Norfolk’s most famous son: Horatio Nelson, aka Admiral Lord Nelson, aka possibly the best-known naval commander in history. 

Who? Nelson is the poster boy for good old British bravado, emerging victorious (albeit minus an occasional eye or limb) from multiple epic sea battles in the 18th and early 19th centuries. He famously defeated Napoleon at the 1805 Battle of Trafalgar, but paid with his own life when a musket ball sailed through his lung and spine, coming to rest just below his right shoulder blade. Debates around whether his last words were “Kiss me, Hardy” (spoken to his lieutenant Thomas Hardy) have raged ever since. 

When? Nelson was returned to England and laid to rest in a state funeral at St Paul’s Cathedral on 9 January, 1806

Where? This is an easy one: fittingly for a true national treasure, Nelson’s tomb – a mammoth sarcophagus in dramatic black marble – takes pride of place slap bang in the middle of the main chamber.

Any fun facts? Try this one for size: the sarcophagus and base of Nelson’s monument are actually royal hand-me-downs, made for the tomb of Henry VIII, which was never completed.

Sure there is! Although Nelson is hands-down the star attraction of his own chamber, you can also pay homage to several more legends of British history.

• Florence Nightingale. Though her mortal remains lie elsewhere, Flo more than earned her right to a lasting tribute in the grand surroundings of St Paul’s. Look for the ornate marble memorial by the Chapel of the Order of the British Empire – it bears an alabaster relief of Florence Nightingale leaning over a wounded soldier.
• The Falklands fallen. Unveiled in 1985 by Queen Elizabeth II, this large slate memorial remembers the 255 Brits killed during the conflict. 
• Churchill’s gates. Sir Winston Churchill’s 1965 death triggered that rarest of events: a non-royal state funeral. Churchill’s was the first since the Duke of Wellington more than a century previously, and – at time of writing – the last state funeral of any variety to be held at St Paul’s Cathedral. He’s not actually buried here, but the ornate gates at the west end of Nelson’s Chamber were installed to commemorate the event and place Churchill among fellow titans of British history.

Who? Arthur Wellesely, aka the 1st Duke of Wellington, was a busy guy, holding many positions of high office across the 18th and early 19th centuries, among them commander-in-chief of the British Army, leader of the House of Lords and Prime Minister (twice). He also defeated Napoleon at the Battle of Waterloo, lent his name to the delicious gout-giving glory of the beef Wellington, and fought a pistol duel with an earl as sitting Prime Minister. And you thought Boris Johnson was a loose cannon.

When? The Duke’s burial took place at St Paul’s Cathedral on 18 November, 1852. He had lain in state for five days prior, during which time an estimated half a million people filed past his coffin to pay their respects.

Where? Directly opposite the Churchill memorial gates (and making a wide half-circle around Nelson), the Duke of Wellington’s enormous granite tomb is hard to miss. 

Any fun facts? After being lowered through the floor of the cathedral, Wellington's coffin came to rest on top of Nelson’s tomb, where it remained for a year before being brought fully down to earth. Pro-tip: pop upstairs to ogle the even-more-massive monument to the Duke in the nave, all graceful columns, candelabra, and an imposing equestrian statue up top.

Now you’ve seen the two biggest tombs in town, it’s time to mosey into the space directly beneath the cathedral quire, where an embarrassment of household names await…

Sir Christopher Wren

Here’s a guy who – perhaps especially at St Paul’s Cathedral – requires little introduction. After all, he designed the place. On that basis alone, you’d expect a solid gold sarcophagus or, at the very least, a commemorative laser-light show. Not so. But don’t be fooled by the relative modesty of Wren’s memorial, tucked away on the east wall. For the inscription reads ‘si monumentum requiris, circumspice’ (if you seek his monument, look all around you).

Admiral Sir Chaloner Ogle

Slightly less famous but no less colourful a sea-dog than Nelson, Ogle’s tomb is perhaps most remarkable for its florid descriptions of his prowess on the high seas, praising his “dauntless courage”, “uncommon sagacity” and “renown upon the deep”. Humbelbrag, much? Come for an ogle, and leave quoting Ogle.

J.M.W. Turner

Part of the ‘culture club’ corner of artistic geniuses (genii?) in the south aisle, Turner may or may not be turning in his tomb in outraged response to recent winners of the art prize that bears his name. No doubt about it though: Turner was a trailblazer, perhaps best known for his evocative and often turbulent seascapes. So he no doubt feels right at home down here with all these other seafaring types.

Sir Alexander Fleming

Boffins abound over in the north aisle, where Scottish microbiologist Alexander Fleming has certainly earned his place. His ashes are interred behind a modest plaque that belies his unquantifiably large contribution to humanity. To wit: his discovery of penicillin in 1928 revolutionized modern medicine, leading to the introduction of antibiotics and saving countless millions of lives ever since.

William Blake

Wildly eccentric artist, poet and mystic William Blake is memorialised with a low-key plaque bearing a poetic inscription and Blake’s profile in relief. Scholars of his Songs of Innocence and Experience won’t want to pass this one by. You might even find yourself humming the opening bars of ‘Jerusalem’, England’s unofficial national anthem, penned by Blake in the early 19th Century. All together now: “And did those feet in ancient time…”

Sure, we’ve had to ghost a few choice chapels and top-notch tombs for brevity, but here’s a short round-up of some of the other crypt classics you should try to squeeze in before you shuffle off the cathedral’s immortal soil.

• Samuel Pepys Cockerell. Great-great nephew of the famous diarist, Sammy was an architect who, as the grandly monikered Surveyor of the Fabric of St Paul's Cathedral, helped stabilise the dome in the early 19th Century. He’s memorialised with a small plaque. Quite right too: without him, the roof might fall on your head.
• St Faith’s Chapel (aka the Chapel of the Order of the British Empire). Not a tomb but a real working chapel, St Faith’s is a cozy, candle-lit sanctuary that has been serving local parishioners beneath the nave since the 1600s. Additionally, anyone made an OBE, MBE, CBE, dame or knight is entitled to use the chapel for baptisms, weddings, memorial services and more. How the other half live, eh?
• The Crypt Café. Also not a tomb. But what better way to revive yourself than with a coffee and cake before continuing your journey out of the underworld and back into daylight? Try the freshly baked pastries: we’ve heard the cinnamon buns are – wait for it – to die for!