St Margaret Pattens Church, first recorded in 1067, began as a modest wooden building before being rebuilt in stone. After its demolition in 1530 and reconstruction in 1538, it was destroyed once again in the Great Fire of London in 1666. The current church, designed by Christopher Wren and completed between 1684 and 1689, belongs to the final phase of his rebuilding programme in the City.
The church follows a restrained and practical architectural formula typical of Wren’s smaller parish churches. It is a simple rectangular structure, with a flat ceiling supported by Corinthian columns, producing a clear and orderly interior without excessive ornament. Light enters through tall, round-headed windows along the sides, giving a sense of verticality while preserving the intimate scale. The tower, one of Wren’s most elegant, is slender and tapering, capped by a distinctive spire that rises in diminishing stages — a refined solution that adds visual presence to the otherwise modest building.
Inside, the church preserves rare and notable fittings. Seventeenth-century canopied pews survive, an unusual feature that emphasises its post-Fire origins. Even more distinctive is the punishment box carved with the Devil’s head, a vivid reminder of the disciplinary practices once associated with parish life.
The name ‘St Margaret Pattens’ most likely derives from the Worshipful Company of Pattenmakers, established in 1379. Pattens were overshoes with raised wooden soles, designed to protect pedestrians from the mud and filth of London’s streets. The close link with the Pattenmakers reflects the church’s integration into the civic and mercantile fabric of the City.
The dedication to Saint Margaret of Antioch reflects her strong medieval popularity in England. She was especially venerated as the patron saint of childbirth and pregnant women. Her cult spread widely after the First Crusade, when her relics were brought into Europe. The legends surrounding her martyrdom during the Diocletianic persecutions, and especially her miraculous escape after being swallowed by a dragon, shaped her enduring iconography. These accounts were collected in Jacobus de Voragine’s ‘Golden Legend’ (c.1260), where her story is presented with both reverence and a hint of scepticism, capturing the medieval blending of faith, allegory, and legend.