I hadn't realised you could wander inside The Charterhouse, the historic almshouses on the edge of Smithfield, probably because I hadn't been paying sufficient attention. I knew it had been restored a few years ago and I knew they did paid-for tours but I thought that was it, you pre-booked or you missed out. But the other day I was lingering in Charterhouse Square (taking photos of Florin Court if you must know) when I spotted a sign outside saying 'Museum and Chapel free', and it turns out yes they are.
The Charterhouse is located here on the very edge of Clerkenwell because of dead bodies. Tens of thousands of Londoners died during the Black Death in 1348/9 and the largest of the mass graves was located here, a few feet beyond the edge of the City. Soon afterwards a Carthusian monastery opened on the north side of the plague pit, there being a lot of souls to pray for, and so the Charterhouse was born. After Henry VIII's monastery fire sale it was converted into a grand Tudor house, and in 1611 this was bought by the wealthiest financier in England, Thomas Sutton. He promptly died and bequeathed much of his wealth to establish a school for the young (40 boys) and a 'hospital' for the old (80 pensioners). Charterhouse School duly thrived, eventually relocating to Godalming, and the almshouses continue to provide shelter to this day.
Whether resident or visitor, the Charterhouse is entered via Charterhouse Square (technically more of a pentagon). Its central garden is currently a combination of spring flowers and waterlogged grass, and best not to imagine quite how many skeletons you're standing on top of. Aim for the twisted metal arch under the giant lamp, which should be unlocked so long as a) it's between 10.30am and 4.30pm b) it's not Sunday or Monday. Beyond is a flagstoned courtyard with low knot-garden-like topiary, plus a 3D model of the complex so that even visually-challenged visitors can get a sense of scale. As sheltered housing goes, it's on the large side.
Step inside and initially it feels very 2017 rather than 1611, this being the pumped-up visitor-focused foyer. It's part information desk, part accessible toilets and substantially gift shop - somewhere to mill before a tour or browse afterwards. If you’ve brought children expect to be offered a colour copy of the Family Trail, otherwise you should be perfectly capable of finding your own way round. Head for the long room which looks a bit cloistery (but isn't, because the real cloisters are elsewhere), admire the plaques (oooh, John Wesley was a scholar here, ditto Robert Baden-Powell, ditto Sir Henry Havelock) and then make your choice of where to start - chapel or museum. I picked chapel.
It's been here just over 500 years although not much of the original remains, mostly a few bits of the antechamber. The main body straight in front is technically Tudor, the aisle to the left is a Jacobean extension and the plainer stalls bolted onto the side were added in 1825 to accommodate lowlier ranks of schoolchildren. The stained glass stands out, but more dazzling are the two golden icons painted either side of the altar (see laminated information sheet on pew alongside). But by now what's probably tickling your interest is the extraordinary confection on the north wall, an ornate stack of symbolism, which can only be the resting place of someone who had a lot of money and a lot of friends.
That'd be the aforementioned Thomas Sutton, moneylender to the nation and chief hospital benefactor, who's commemorated here in a building he never saw. For the then-massive sum of £400 three master masons topped off an alabaster effigy of the good man with a grandiose memorial carved from stone and marble. Above the central plaque a skull stares out, Time wields his scythe and a massive congregation gathers to pay their respects to their benefactor. Cherubic figures with names like Labour, Piety and Rest are positioned roundabout to provide meaning, the obligatory coat of arms takes centre stage and three dogs' heads poke out up front. I'm not explaining it well, it's best seen in situ, its components explained in another conveniently positioned laminate.
The museum meanwhile is long and thin, indeed quite hard to weave through if a tour party of retired ladies has turned up and are filling time before their official tour. It tells multiple tales in reverse chronological order, including what it was like to be a pupil here (serious, with bullying), how the hospital was governed (seriously) and how the water supply fed in through mapped conduits (seriously ahead of its time). I don't know of any other museum with a button that says 'Illuminate St Catherine', and when pressed she does indeed light up, she being the remains of an effigy from the late 15th century monastery chapel. At the far end of the second gallery the story ends at the beginning with an actual skeleton of a Black Death victim, reverently displayed beneath a wall of flickering 'candles'.
The thread that keeps cropping up throughout is that of the almshouse residents, still known as Brothers even after women were finally admitted in 2018. Numbers are fixed at 40, each with their own private flat and a unique address in almost the very heart of the city. The Brothers aren't expected to live a monastic life, they can come and go as they please, go on holiday, whatever, but there is an unspoken expectation that they'll dine collectively most of the time in the 16th century Great Hall. Some Brothers help guide in the chapel, many help run tours, and others simply enjoy the garden and the peace and quiet. To be eligible to move in to the Charterhouse you have to be over 60, single, in financial and social need and capable of living independently, so I'm not yet borderline Brother material.
Come at 8am or 5.30pm and you can attend a daily service in the chapel. Visit on a Friday morning a big social sitdown takes place where anyone's very welcome. Pre-book on a guided tour - probably the best option - and you can be shown further treats within, like the garden, the cloisters or the Great Chamber. Or like I did simply drop in to see the chapel and the museum, free of charge, in this extraordinary retirement haven with its roots in plague and charity.
