The Monument

The authorities felt that they needed some sort of monument to commemorate the fire and  Robert Hooke and Sir Christopher Wren were given the job. Between 1671 and 1677, they designed and built a 61.6m high column with an internal staircase of 311 steps. A mesh cage was added to the viewing platform at the top to prevent people using it to commit suicide. It was created in Portland stone and has a gilded urn at the very top. The 61.6m height represents the distance from the monument to the site of Farriner’s bakers shop in the west, where the fire started. There are plenty of Latin inscriptions at the base of the plinth, all of which were beyond my ‘O’ level Latin comprehension. It was a simple and impressive design, but I think they could probably have been more creative with its name. I’d heard of the Monument, of course, but up until a couple of days ago I’d no idea that it was related to the Great Fire of London. 

Never to miss a scientific opportunity, Hooke and Wren built the Monument as a scientific instrument too. The central shaft was meant for use as a zenith telescope. The urn at the top of the monument has a hinged lid and can be turned back when used as a telescope. The central shaft could also be used for gravity and pendulum experiments. Unfortunately, the vibrations from nearby carts made the gravity experiments impractical. The design even included an underground laboratory for the observers to work (accessible through a hatch in the modern day ticket booth). The steps in the shaft tower are all 6 inches high, allowing them to be used for barometric pressure studies. 

It felt that there was a lot of history attached to this place as I stood near to the Monument’s base and looked up at the Golden Urn. It was now time to climb the thing. 

Ascent

There were two greeters at the base of the Monument. One was sitting in a small ticket booth and the other standing outside. An electric heater was placed immediately above the entrance and this slowly roasted by bald patch as I went through the bureaucracy of paying.
'Where do I go now?’ I asked after paying. Both of the greeters looked at each other confused. I was going to have to work on my jokes, or at least their timing. I started climbing the spiral stone staircase. I’m not a big fan of spiral staircases, especially those with a long drop down the centre. I didn’t notice at the time, but I did later, that the lack of a central support column meant that the steps were cantilevered with the support provided by the steps being embedded into the walls of the column. Later in the day, I would take a tour of St Pauls Cathedral where I visited the famous Dean’s Staircase that follows a similar design. They were designed by Wren and his calculations checked by Hooke. In that case the steps were embedded into the wall by 15cm, but some of the support was provided by the step underneath; a tremendous engineering feat for their day. Given that the construction of The Monument and St Paul’s Cathedral were carried out roughly at the same time, I now wonder whether Wren and Hooke used the design of the staircase in The Monument as a prototype for the Dean’s Staircase in St Paul’s Cathedral. 

The ascent was a thorough workout for the legs. There were no windows and it was hard to gauge my progress. As I got higher, it felt like the column was narrowing a little. The steps also got a lot wetter. Obviously rain blows into the opening at the top and just runs down the inside of the column. The steps looked slippery which introduced an additional peril. Fortunately, traction was okay. I didn’t meet anybody coming down. There would have been just enough room to pass, but it would have been a squeeze. The Edinburgh writer James Boswell visited the Monument in 1763. Halfway up, he suffered a panic attack, but persevered and made it to the top, where he found it ‘...horrid to be so monstrous a way up in the air, so far above London and all its spires.’ I must admit that I sympathised with the guy. The ascent seemed endless and it just seemed to get wetter and narrower. Just when I was losing all hope, I spotted some daylight above; I was reaching the top. 

Monument Viewing Ledge

‘Whoooaoaah!’ I have to say it did feel a bit intimidating stepping out of the door onto the Monument’s viewing ledge. My recent ascents of The Shard and Horizon 22 had been far higher, but in those cases I'd not had to deal with the wind and rain. Admittedly, it was only a slight wind and light rain, but it did add to the sense of exposure. The ledge was wet with rain and looked slippery. It was so narrow that some signs indicated that there was a one-way system around it. It was all perfectly safe of course, due to the sturdy metal barrier and mesh around the edge. It took me a few seconds to get my sea legs and then I started my tour of the top. The door had brought me out facing Tower Bridge and I could see the towers of Canary Wharf in the distance. HMS Belfast was still moored at its usual position on the Thames and The Shard looked massive on the other side of the river. Just below me I could see the top of St Magnus The Martyr’s church. I edged my way around to the west side of the platform and was surprised to find a bloke sheltering from the easterly. Later in the day, I’d meet this very same chap, on the narrow gangway at the very top of St Pauls’ dome. Quite a coincidence really. For some reason, he was attempting to go the wrong way around the one-way system on the Monument. There ensued an enforced, intimate and undignified encounter as I squeezed past him; me on the outside, I hasten to add. Over to the west I could see the dome of St Pauls Cathedral and beyond the distinctive silhouette of the BT Tower. The view from the north side of the Monument was dominated by the towers in the City. I could see the highest point, Horizon 22 where I’d been looking down on to the Monument only an hour before. I noted how small the Natwest Tower and the Gherkin looked in comparison to Horizon 22. The Walkie Talkie building dominated the foreground though. It won the 2015 Carbuncle Of The Year award as the UK’s worst new building. I think that’s rather unfair; I quite like its curved design. It also has a Sky Garden at the top which is free for the public to visit. I found my way back to the entrance to the staircase. I’d only spent ten minutes at the top of the Monument but it had been a very memorable ten minute experience. 

Descent

The descent of the spiral staircase seemed as tricky as the ascent had been. The steps still looked very slippery, but did actually provide good traction. The free space down the central part of the staircase was now in view all the time and added a slightly more sense of danger to the proceedings. I heard some people coming up and I cursed a little as we’d have to squeeze past each other. The acoustics inside the column must be really good since it took an age before I actually met them. By that time I’d reached the marginally wider part of the staircase and so passing them was a breeze. They were already asking if they were near the top…little did they know. I reached the Chuckle Brothers at the ticket booth. My bald spot got sunburnt again under their heater as they presented me with an A5 size certificate to say that I’d climbed the Monument.
‘I’ll treasure and frame that’ I told them. They looked at me blankly. I think I'd just exposed a Baby Boomer and Gen Z gap.

The Monument experience had only taken about 45 minutes but it was well worth the effort. It has some tremendous history related to it. The ascent and descent was more strenuous than I thought it would be. The top was a little more exposed too, although it was all perfectly safe. The superb views gave an unusual perspective of London,  being above the smaller buildings, but below the high towers.