The story
As you stand on Oxford’s bustling High Street, your eyes are likely drawn upward to the University Church of St Mary the Virgin. While the golden spire dominates the skyline, I want you to focus your attention on the magnificent gateway at the south entrance, known as the Baroque Porch. It feels almost out of place here—an explosion of swirling, Italianate energy set against the backdrop of Oxford’s more restrained medieval stone.
Built in 1637, this porch is more than just a grand entrance; it is a frozen piece of a political and religious storm that eventually cost a man his head. Look closely at those two magnificent, spiraling pillars framing the doorway. These are barley-twist columns, or Solomonic columns, modeled after those in St.
Peter’s Basilica in Rome. In the 17th century, seeing such a design in England was a shock to the system. To many, these twists didn’t just represent artistic flair; they represented the "corrupting" influence of the Catholic Church.
The man behind this project was William Laud, the Archbishop of Canterbury and Chancellor of Oxford University. Laud was a man who believed in the "beauty of holiness." He wanted to move the Church of England away from the plain, austere worship of the Puritans and back toward ritual, color, and ceremony.
He commissioned his chaplain, Morgan Owen, to oversee this porch, and he hired the King’s own master mason, Nicholas Stone, to carve it. Now, look up into the central niche above the archway. You’ll see the statue of the Virgin and Child, crowned and serene.
In the 1630s, placing a prominent statue of Mary on a public street was an act of extreme provocation. To the rising Puritan movement, this was nothing short of idol worship. The controversy surrounding this porch eventually followed Laud all the way to his trial for high treason in 1644.
His enemies actually cited this very porch as physical evidence of his "Popery" and his secret desire to bring England back under the authority of the Pope. They argued that by erecting such "scandalous" imagery, Laud was trying to subvert the Protestant faith. If you look very closely at the statue today, you might notice some scarring on the stone.
During the English Civil War, when Parliamentary soldiers occupied Oxford, they used the statue of the Virgin for target practice. Those marks are the literal scars of a country at war with itself over how to pray and what to believe. Laud was eventually executed, but his porch survived the iconoclasm.
Today, it remains one of the finest examples of Baroque architecture in England—a beautiful, swirling testament to a man who died for his vision of a more decorated world.