I set up my Instagram account because I found myself taking quite a few pictures totally unrelated to the City of London and I wanted a home for them.
They are quite lighthearted and I am publishing some here in the hope that it will encourage more of you to follow me on Instagram. You’ll find the address at the end of the blog.
I’ll start with a ‘heads up!’
Kilburn High Road wig shop …
A hairpiece for all styles and colours …
A selection of heads in an architectural salvage shop at King’s Cross …
Some fun street art …
Camden Town
An elegant lady on Highgate Hill …
And another …
‘Big girls need big diamonds’.
Street art meets a spinal column on Old Street …
Tasteful Shoreditch poetry …
On Rivington street …
Rather complex decision tree on Great Eastern Street …
More straightforward decision tree on Old street …
‘Let’s ADORE and ENDURE each other’ …
Artwork by Stik …
On Holloway Road, Dick Whittington strides out back to a modern looking City …
Mural at the London Postal Museum …
And a strongly worded notice on the wall inside where the railway workshops used to be …
The bear necessities at Spitalfields Market …
And nearby, a shop that once satisfied stallholders’ needs …
This injured kestrel found a friend near Guildhall …
And still on an animal theme. Where do Barbican ducks go shopping?
Waitrose of course …
Scrapyard sculpture …
Finally, a few pictures from a visit to Malaga …
‘Mmmmmm ice cream …. yummy!’
A water-themed painting next to a dry river course …
Picasso’s birthplace …
He was a great fan of the bullfight and inside is a photo of him catching a hat the matador has thrown to him. Lucky photographer – right place, right time …
I find great pleasure visiting the City churches and often come across unusual artifacts that spark my curiosity and I have put a selection together for this week’s blog. Incidentally, there are still an amazing 47 churches within the Square Mile and I have not yet visited all of them!
As you approach the door to St Magnus the Martyr on Lower Thames Street you are walking on the paving that once led to the original London Bridge between 1171 and 1831 (EC3R 6DN). Inside is this beautiful scale model of the bridge …
Over nine hundred tiny people are crammed onto the bridge, amongst them a miniature King Henry V, who can be seen processing towards the City of London from the Southwark side of the bridge …
Read more on the excellent London Walking Tours blog from which these pictures were taken.
As an added bonus you can check out the 17th century parish fire engine just inside the main entrance …
Lovat Lane, which runs between Eastcheap and Lower Thames Street, reminds one of the old City with its cobbled surface and narrow winding shape …
St Mary-At-Hill EC3R 8EE
If you pop into St Mary-At-Hill church you will immediately encounter on your left this fascinating representation of Resurrection on the Day of Judgment …
Christ holding a banner stands amidst clouds. Satan, a figure with large claws, is being trampled under his feet
It’s a very unusual example of late 17th century English religious carving and most likely dates from the 1670s. Its carver is unknown, but it is known that the prominent City mason Joshua Marshall was responsible for the rebuilding of the church in 1670-74 and his workshop may have produced the relief. Exactly where it was originally positioned is uncertain; most likely it stood over the entrance to the parish burial ground and was brought inside in more recent times …
You can see open coffins among the chaosThe winged Archangel Michael helps people rise again
If you find yourself in St Paul’s Cathedral do seek out the only statue to survive the ravages of the Great Fire of 1666 which totally destroyed the Cathedral’s predecessor.
Nicholas Stone’s effigy of the poet and preacher John Donne is a remarkable survival of seventeenth-century English sculpture. Donne is shown standing, perched on a funerary urn, and enveloped in a body-hugging burial shroud which has been gathered into two decorative ruffs at the head and feet. Based on a drawing done when he was dying, and at his request, consider the face, with its shuttered eyelids, raffish beard, and benign, half-smiling expression.
The urn still shows scorch marks from the fire …
I haven’t had a proper long look at St Mary Abchurch yet but did manage to call in for a few minutes to take a (rather hurried) picture of this unusual Poor Box …
You need three keys to open it, one being inserted horizontally.
And I like this old box outside the little museum at St Bartholomew’s Hospital …
Rather a strangely placed apostrophe, I think.
And now on to one of my favourite churches, St Vedast-alias-Foster (EC2V 6HH).
You enter through early 17th century oak doors that have remarkably survived both the Great Fire and the Blitz. Beyond the foyer you find yourself facing the font and its beautifully carved wooden cover. Originally from St Anne and St Agnes, the font was designed by Sir Christopher Wren and the cover is by Wren’s frequent collaborator, the master woodcarver Grinling Gibbons …
Inside St Martin within Ludgate on Ludgate Hill (EC4M 7DE) I found both a fascinating chandelier and a very unusual font. There is a large entrance lobby (designed to reduce traffic noise inside the church) and you then enter one of Sir Christopher Wren’s least altered interiors (1677-1686) with fine dark woodwork which largely escaped the Blitz.
Look up and you will see this beautiful chandelier or candelabrum …
It’s still lit by candles.
As one commentator has noticed, it looks more like something you would find in a country house or a ballroom. The candles were not lit when I visited but I am sure that when they are, on a dark morning or evening, one must get a real feel for what it was like to worship here in earlier centuries. It came to the church via St Vincent’s Cathedral in the West Indies, probably in 1777: a reminder of the links between the City’s trading economy and the British Empire overseas.
And now to the very unusual font …
The bowl is white marble and the wooden supporting plinth is painted to look like stone. It dates from 1673, predating the church, and was previously located in a ‘tabernacle’ used by the congregation during the rebuilding.
It contains a Greek palindrome copied from the Cathedral of St Sophia in Constantinople:
Niyon anomhma mh monan oyin
(Cleanse my sin and not my face only)
And I am indebted, as I often am, to the blogger A London Inheritancewho pointed out in his latest publication something I missed.
The plaque records a charity set up by Elizabethan fish monger Thomas Berry, or Beri. He is seen on the left of the plaque, and to the right are ten lines of text, followed by two lines which describe the charity:
“XII Penie loaves, to XI poor foulkes. Gave every Sabbath Day for aye”
The plaque is dated 1586, and the charity was set up in his will of 1601 which left his property in Edward Street, Southwark to St Mary Magdalen, with the instruction that the rent should be used to fund the loaves. The recipients of the charity were not in London, but were in Walton-on-the-Hill (now a suburb of Liverpool), a village that Berry seems to have had some connection with. The charity included an additional sum of 50s a year to fund a dinner for all the married people and householders of the town of Bootle.
The interesting lines of text are above those which describe the charity. Thomas seems to have spelled his last name either Berry or Beri and these ten lines of anti-papist verse include his concealed name.
And finally, why would a church display an old-fashioned telephone under a glass case?
One day in 1936 a young priest officiated at his first funeral – a 14 year old girl who had killed herself because, when her periods started, she thought it was a sign of a sexually transmitted disease. That there seemed to have been no one she could talk to had a profound effect on him, but it was not until 18 years later that, as he put it,
I read somewhere there were three suicides a day in
Greater London. What were they supposed to do if they didn’t want a
Doctor or Social Worker … ? What sort of a someone might they want?
He looked at his phone, ‘DIAL 999 for Fire, Police or Ambulance’ it said …
There ought to be an emergency number for suicidal
people, I thought. Then I said to God, be reasonable! Don’t look at me…
I’m possibly the busiest person in the Church of England.
When the priest, Chad Varah, was offered charge of the parish of St Stephen Walbrook in the summer of 1953 he knew that the time was right for him to launch what he called a ‘999 for the suicidal’. He was, in his own words, ‘a man willing to listen, with a base and an emergency telephone’. The first call to the new service was made on 2nd November 1953 and this date is recognised as Samaritans’ official birthday.
You only need to visit the Watts Memorial to Heroic Self Sacrifice in Postman’s Park to see evidence of the dangers that people were exposed to in Victorian times.
Here is the man we have to thank for this window on the past …
George Frederic Watts was a famous Victorian artist and this picture is a self-portrait. He first suggested the memorials we see today in 1887 but the idea was not taken up until 1898 when the vicar of St Botolph’s church offered him this site in Postman’s Park (EC1A 7BT). There Watts’ ambition to commemorate ‘likely to be forgotten heroes’ came to fruition and when the park was officially opened on 30 July 1900 there were already four tablets in place.
Sixty two people feature on the memorial today which is housed in a wooden loggia …
I find that their stories still evoke a range of emotions, particularly ones of sadness and curiosity, which left me wanting to know more about these people, their lives and the manner of their deaths. There are also clues as to the nature of society and work at that time along with the quality of healthcare.
We are reminded, for example, that horses played a tremendous part in work practices, transport, leisure and, sadly, war. It’s estimated, for example, that there were about 3.3 million horses in late Victorian Britain and in 1900 about a million of these were working horses. Of the 62 people commemorated here, five died as a result of an incident involving horses and I shall write about two of them.
Here is the first mention of horses on the wall …
William Drake earned his living as a carriage driver and on this occasion his passenger was one of the most famous sopranos of her day, a lady called Thérèse Tietjens. The breaking of the carriage pole caused panic among the horses and they reared out of control. In fighting to control them, Drake received a severe kick to his right knee which subsequently resulted in the septicaemia that led to his death on April 8th. A message was passed to the coroner at the inquest that ‘those dependent on the deceased would be amply cared for by Madame Tietjens’. Notwithstanding this, Drake was buried at the expense of the parish in a common grave in Brompton Cemetery, although there is evidence that his widow did receive an annuity from somewhere.
Elizabeth Boxall died after being kicked by a runaway carthorse as she pulled a small child out of its way …
Her brave act actually took place in July 1887 but over the next eleven months poor Elizabeth’s health deteriorated. Part of her leg was amputated in September and a further part (up to her hip) in January 1888, her condition being complicated by a diagnosis of cancer. Her parents were distraught by her death and the way she had been treated by the medical profession – for example, the first amputation was carried out without her or her parents’ permission. ‘They regularly butchered her at that hospital’ her father exclaimed at the inquest and the jury found that shock from the second operation was the cause of death. No one from the hospital attended the inquest but the House Governor at the London Hospital disputed the finding in a letter to the press.
Still on a medical theme, the highly contagious infection known as diptheria features twice on the memorials. Now extremely rare due to vaccination programmes, it was once a frequent killer of small children and also posed a danger to physicians such as Samuel Rabbeth …
I have been able to locate a picture of him thanks to the excellentLondon Walking Toursblog…
Dr Samuel Rabbeth (1858 – 1884) from The Illustrated London News 15th November 1884 Copyright, The British Library Board
On October 10th the doctor was treating a four year old patient who was in danger of asphyxiation as diptheria often resulted in a membrane blocking the airways. The standard treatment of tracheotomy had been performed but to no avail and Rabbeth performed the more risky procedure of sucking on the tracheotomy tube to remove the obstruction. Unfortunately in doing so he contracted the infection himself and died on 20th October (not the 26th as shown on the plaque). There was some (fairly muted) criticism of his actions by doctors who believed he acted recklessly, although from the most honourable of motives.
He has a fine gravestone in Barnes Cemetery …
Dr Lucas was infected as a result of an unfortunate accident …
He was in the process of administering an anaesthetic to a child with diptheria in order that a tracheotomy could be carried out. The child coughed or sneezed in his face but, instead of delaying to clean himself up, which may have endangered the child’s life, he continued and as a result became infected. He died within a week.
I haven’t been able to find an image of him or his final resting place but a poem written in his memory was published in a number of newspapers and you can read it in full here.
Thomas Griffin was engaged to be married on 16 April 1899 and on 11 April he had travelled to Northampton to discuss arrangements with his family and then back home to Battersea for work the next day. He expected that by the end of the week he would be married, but that was not to be, and by the end of the following day he was dead …
An inquest on 17 April was told that, after an explosion in the refinery boiler room, the door had been closed and the men told to keep out. Griffin, who had been evacuated to safety, suddenly cried out ‘My mate! My mate!’ and before anyone could stop him had disappeared into the boiler room. Terribly scalded all over his body he died later that day. The coroner lamented that …
… the conduct of a man like him deserves to be recorded. No doubt there are heroes in everyday life, but they do not come to the front and so we do not hear of them.
Unbeknown to the coroner, Watts had been collecting newspaper cuttings of heroic acts for years and added Griffin’s story to the growing archive. So it came to pass that Thomas Griffin was among the first four people to be commemorated upon the newly opened memorial.
And finally …
One might get the impression that this gentleman was particularly worthy of recognition because the person he saved was not only a stranger but also a foreigner. This would be a shame if it detracts from a very brave act and a tragic one also since, according to Cambridge’s brother Royston, John need not have perished. He told the Nottingham Evening Post …
My brother, who was a very good swimmer, saw while bathing an unknown person drowning, and swam out to her assistance. The bathing boat rescued the lady, and the other bather, but the boatmen declined to go out again, although we implored them to do so, and offered them payment, until they were ordered out by officials. It was then, of course, too late.
I have written in great detail about the following four heroes in an earlier blog which you can find (along with pictures of three of them) here …
I am indebted for the background research used in this blog to the historian John Price and his incredibly interesting book Heroes of Postman’s Park – Heroic Self-Sacrifice in Victorian London. You will find details of how to purchase your copy here.
Poor St Bartholomew the Less has had a tough time (EC1A 9DS). Designated ‘the less’ to distinguish it from its better known namesake nearby, it has also had to be substantially rebuilt a number of times including the need to repair damage inflicted in the Blitz. Nonetheless, it is a fascinating place containing many interesting historical monuments.
To find its modest doorway you must enter the grounds of St Bartholomew’s hospital through the Henry VIII gates and look to your left. Inside a rather spooky white hand directs you up stairs to the main body of the church …
It was once a parish church in its own right, the parish boundary being the walls of the hospital. The parishioners were made up of the hospital staff and patients and at one time attendance at services was compulsory for all who were fit enough. It was the only parish of this nature in existence but since 2015, however, it has become part of the Parish of St Bartholomew the Great.
There are many features to admire but, for reasons of space, I have tried to pick some of the most interesting and will look at others in a future blog.
High up on the south wall is the memorial to Robert Balthrope, Sergeant Surgeon to Queen Elizabeth I …
The inscription reads …
Here Robert Balthrope Lyes intombed, to Elizabeth Our Queene Who Sergeant of the Surgeons Sworne, Neere Thirtye Yeeres Hathe Beene He Died at Sixtye Nine of Yeeres, Decembers Ninthe The Daye The Yeere of Grace Eight Hundred Twice Deductinge Nine A waye. Let Here His Rotten Bones Repose Till Angells Trompet Sounde To Warne The Worlde of Present Chaunge And Raise the Deade From Grounde.
He died in 1591, but the poet who devised this eulogy presumably had a problem getting 1591 to rhyme with anything. So he chose the frankly odd solution of asking the reader to do some mental arithmetic – ‘The Yeere of Grace Eight Hundred Twice’ (i.e. 800 x 2 = 1600) Deductinge Nine A waye (1600 – 9 = 1591).
The current windows in the church were designed by Hugh Easton, following the loss of the earlier windows during World War Two. Easton was an eminent stained glass maker who also designed the Battle of Britain memorial window in Westminster Abbey. The design of the nurse in the window in Westminster Abbey is strikingly similar to that in the window here …
And the doctors’ memorial window …
The mid-19th century alabaster pulpit depicts Christ healing the sick …
On the east wall is the poignant memorial plaque to Arthur Jermyn Landon which I wrote about in last week’s blog …
Here he is in an image of him dated 1881 held at the Wellcome Foundation …
The elaborate memorial to John and Mary Darker (Died 1784 and 1800) is signed by J Binley …
Before you leave, look to the right of the door and you will see the tomb of Surgeon John Freke (1688-1756) …
English History Online has the following to say …
… a remarkably curious tomb of the fireplace kind, most elaborately wrought. It is the tomb of Freke, the senior surgeon of St. Bartholomew’s Hospital, who wrote many works upon surgery, still to be found in its library. His bust is to be seen in the museum of the hospital, and he is represented by Hogarth, in the last plate of “The Stages of Cruelty,” presiding aloft over the dissecting-table, and pointing with a long wand to the dead “subject,” upon whom he is lecturing to the assembled students.
And here it is …
You can read more about Hogarth’s The Four Stages of Cruelty here.
Look back after leaving the church and observe the oldest parts of the building, the 15th-century tower and west end of the church …
Within the tower are three bells, the oldest being cast in 1380. The bells are hung in the original wooden frame thought to be the oldest in London.
Plaques abound in the City and I thought it might be fun to write here about some of the more unusual or interesting ones I have come across.
First up is this example, now rather tucked away in a corner at Liverpool Street railway station. It’s underneath the main memorial to the First World War dead, which was unveiled by this gentleman in 1922 …
Wilson was assassinated outside his house in Eaton Place at about 2:20 pm. Still in full uniform, he was shot six times, two bullets in the chest proving fatal. The two perpetrators, IRA volunteers Reginald Dunne and Joseph O’Sullivan, shot two police officers and a chauffeur as they attempted to escape but were surrounded by a hostile crowd and arrested after a struggle. Interestingly both were former British army officers and O’Sullivan had lost a leg at Ypres, his subsequent disability hindering their escape. After a trial lasting just three hours they were convicted of murder and hanged at Wandsworth gaol on 10 August that year – justice was certainly delivered swiftly in those days. No organisation claimed responsibility for Wilson’s murder.
Until researching this event I hadn’t realised that, in all, about 210,000 Irishmen served in the British forces during World War One. Since there was no conscription, about 140,000 of these joined during the war as volunteers and about 35,000 of them died.
A brave doctor from an earlier war is commemorated in the church of St Bartholomew the Less, his actions and character described in poignant detail …
His former medical contemporaries at St Bartholomew’s Hospital have set up this tablet to keep in memory the bright example of ARTHUR JERMYN LANDON Surgeon Army Medical Department who, while continuing to dress the wounded amid a shower of bullets in the action on Majuba Hill, was in turn mortally wounded. His immediate request to his assistants “I am dying do what you can for the wounded” was characteristic of his unselfish disposition. His habitual life was expressed in the simple grandeur of his death. He was born at Brentwood Essex 29th June 1851. Died two days after the action at Mount Prospect South Africa 1st March 1881.
A plaque of a totally different nature is affixed to a hotel in Carter Lane …
The plaque was the result of a long campaign by a City grandee called Joseph Newbon who was a great believer in making sure that historical events connected with the City were properly commemorated.
Ironically, the letter written to Shakespeare by Richard Quiney (asking to borrow £30, about £3,700 in today’s money) was never dispatched and was found among his papers after he died.
The plaque was originally on the wall of a major Post Office, hence the reference to the Postmaster General. Now demolished, its imposing entrance has been incorporated into the hotel …
Whilst on the subject of The Bard, this magnificent bust is in St Mary Aldermanbury Garden, Love Lane EC2 …
A Wren church gutted in the Blitz, the remains of St Mary Aldermanbury were shipped to Fulton, Missouri, USA in 1966. The restored church is now a memorial to Winston Churchill’s ‘Iron Curtain’ speech made at Westminster College, Fulton, in 1946.
Below the bust is a plaque commemorating his fellow actors Henry Condell and John Heminge who were key figures in the printing of the playwright’s First Folio of works seven years after his death. There are almost twenty plays by Shakespeare, including The Tempest, Julius Caesar, Macbeth and Antony and Cleopatra, which we would not have at all if it were not for their efforts. Both of them were buried at St Mary’s …
This is what Shakespeare had to say about the churchyards of his day …
‘Tis now the very witching of the night
When churchyards yawn, and hell itself breathes out
Contagion to the world.
(Hamlet’s soliloquy Act 3 Scene 2)
Up until the mid-19th century the City contained numerous churchyards, usually adjacent to a parish church, but these were becoming seriously overcrowded and seen as an obvious threat to health. Not only did the population have to breathe in the ‘odour of the dead’, gravediggers themselves could contract typhus and smallpox from handling diseased corpses.
You can get a sense of how packed the graveyards were if you look at them now and see how much higher than street level some of them still are. For example, here is the view from inside St Olave Hart Street …
Eventually the overcrowding of the dead meant relatively fresh graves were broken into while new ones were being dug, and corpses were dismembered in order to make room for more. Sites were also subject to body snatchers (nicknamed the ‘Resurrection Men’), who sold the corpses on the black market as medical cadavers. The government eventually took action action when a serious cholera epidemic broke out and burial within the City limits was virtually totally prohibited by a series Burial Acts.
The removal of the dead from one churchyard is commemorated here …
A plaque on the wall informs us that ‘the burial ground of the parish church of St. Mary-At-Hill has been closed by order of the respective vestries of the united parishes of St. Mary-At-Hill and Saint Andrew Hubbard with the consent of the rector and that no further interments are allowed therein – Dated this 21st day of June 1846’. Following the closure, all human remains from the churchyard, vaults and crypts were removed and reburied in West Norwood cemetery. You can read more on the excellent London Inheritance blog.
Some bodies remained in place only to be resited for other reasons. In the case of the churchyard of St John the Baptist upon Walbrook it was the construction of the District Line underground railway …
The plaqueis in Cloak Lane EC4R 2RU.
There is a fascinating article here about the London Underground’s construction and it’s reported encounters with London’s dead.
St Olave Silver Street was totally destroyed in the Great Fire of 1666 but its little churchyard lives on. A much weathered 17th century stone plaque records the terrible event …
This was the Parish Church of St Olave Silver street, destroyed by the dreadful fire in the year 1666.
Silver Street itself was annihilated in the Blitz and erased completely by post-war development and traffic planning. The little garden containing the stone is on London Wall at the junction with Noble Street.
I shall end on two more lighthearted notes.
Probably hundreds of people pass through the subway that leads to Mansion House Underground Station every day and don’t notice this old plaque dating from 1913 …
It celebrates not only the opening of the subway but also some brand new Gentlemen’s toilets (hence the involvement of the Public Health Department). ‘Street fouling’ had become a major problem, hence the rather ambiguously worded signs that were once common around London exhorting people to …
In the mid 19th century ideas were being put forward for ‘halting places’ and ‘waiting rooms’ and the City of London installed the first underground ‘Convenience’ outside the Royal Exchange in 1855. It’s still there, completely renovated, and is accessed by tunnels leading to Bank Underground Station. The original toilets were for men only, ladies had to wait another 30 years for their ‘convenience’.
The Mansion House loo is now closed and sealed off but a great example of street level toilet architecture exists on Eastcheap …
I am indebted for much of this information to a lady called Sarah McCabe who made the provision of underground conveniences the subject of her MA dissertation – I highly recommend it.
And finally. I know I have written about this famous cat before but it’s a nice story so I am going to repeat it.
High up on a tiled pillar in Barbican Underground Station is this rather sad little memorial …
For many years Pebbles was a favourite of staff and passengers, often sleeping soundly on top of the exit barriers despite the rush hour pandemonium going on around him. Here is a picture from the wonderfully named Purr’n’Fur website, a great source for moggie-related stories …
Clearly he was greatly missed when he died, as the plaque faithfully records, on 26th May 1997. This was doubly sad because he was due to be given a Lifetime Achievement Award. This was sponsored by Spillers Pet Foods and named after Arthur, a cat they used in their advertising who, I seem to remember, ate with his paws. The Certificate that came with the award is also displayed (the co-winner, the aptly named Barbie, was Pebbles’ companion) …
I was inspired by a recent Spitalfields Life blog to revisit some old City locations and find out what has changed (and what hasn’t!). Most of the old pictures are from the late 1890s or the early days of the 20th century and come from the Bishopsgate Institute archive.
Holborn Circus seemed a good place to start since Prince Albert is still there raising his hat to the City …
And here he is circa 1910 …
What is sad is when some interesting views disappear. Here is a picture I took looking east in June 2017 where Albert appears to be saluting Lady Justice atop the Old Bailey …
Now there is a new building obstructing his view …
The beating heart of the business City – Throgmorton Street circa 1920 …
And today – that clock on the left is still there …
It dates from 1892 …
If you look further along the street you can just glimpse the extraordinary entrance to Draper’s Hall …
The always informative Bob Speel architecture website tells us that the tall, powerful imposing figures are known as Atlantes and were carved by Henry Alfred Pegram in 1896.
It’s hard to imagine now that the Victorians allowed a railway bridge to be built which obstructed the view of St Paul’s from Fleet Street that had existed since 1710. Here’s the view circa 1910 …
The bridge was finally demolished in 1990 and this is the view today …
This is Fetter Lane around 1910 …
You can see mirrors suspended at an angle in order to bring more light into the first floor of number 85.
Numbers 85, 86 and 87 are now gone but 84 and its neighbour survive, albeit somewhat altered …
The Monument around 1900. Note the sign on the left … you could book a room at Lightfoot’s Inn or just pop in and enjoy some fresh oysters, a common food then even for the poor (as this article explains) …
The view of The Monument from the same point today …
Pageantmaster Court, just off Ludgate Hill, refers to the person charged with organising the Lord Mayor’s Show. Here’s a picture taken from there in 1910 …
And today …
The building on the right is still there. Once a bank it’s now a wine bar …
Here is Cheapside in 1892, when horsedrawn vehicles were still in the ascendancy and this picture was probably taken from one. There is a nice selection of male headgear in the image – a few top hats, a homburg and a debonair chap sporting a straw boater …
Around 1910 …
I think the newspaperadvertisement reads ‘France surprise for Turkey – Ambassadors ordered to leave’.Further down the road a haircut will cost you 4d and a shave 2d.
And today from approximately the same spot …
And finally, a favourite of mine, men laying tramlines at the junction of Clerkenwell Road and Goswell Road …
In the background is the Hat and Feathers pub, sadly now closed …
I spend a lot of time looking up as I wander around the City, which is another reason why I tend to take photographs at the weekend. That way I won’t be obstructing bustling City folk going about their business and get tutted at when I stop abruptly.
I hope you find this miscellaneous collection interesting. Some have appeared in blogs already but I have included them again because I just like them.
This globe sits on top of the London Metropolitan University building on Moorgate (EC2M 6SQ) …
I had never noticed before that it is encircled by the signs of the Zodiac.
Here’s what it looks like at street level with the Globe Pub sign in the foreground …
Whilst on the subject of Zodiacs, there are some attractive figures around the door of 107 Cheapside (EC2V 6DN) …
They were sculpted by John Skeaping, Barbara Hepworth’s first husband …
Sagittarius – November 22nd to December 21st. Pisces – February 19th to March 20th.Aquarius January 20th to February 18th.
And in Cheapside there is another globe, this time supported by a straining Atlas balanced on top of a clock …
It was once the headquarters of the Atlas Assurance Company. The entrance was in King Street and above the door is another depiction of Atlas hard at work. I like the detail of his toes curled around the plinth (EC2V 8AU) …
Across the road is Kings House sporting a magnificent crown …
Above it is a very pretty Mercer Maiden dating from 1938 …
This wise old owl watches commuters as they flow back and forth over London Bridge. He was located outside what was once the Guardian Insurance Company headquarters (EC4N 7HR) …
Look up as you walk down Eastcheap and you will see the remains of a dead camel …
Constructed between 1883 and 1885, the building at 20 Eastcheap was once the headquarters of Peek Brothers & Co, dealers in tea, coffee and spices, whose trademark showed three camels bearing different shaped loads being led by a Bedouin Arab. The firm was particularly well known for its ‘Camel’ brand of tea. When Sir Henry Peek (son of one of the original founders) commissioned this building he wanted the panel over the entrance to replicate the trademark, right down to the dried bones of the dead camel lying in the sand in the foreground.
Admire the leopard’s head symbol of the Goldsmith’s Company over the entrance to the old churchyard of St Zachary on Gresham Street (EC2V 7HN) …
Guardian angels are still resting on their swings opposite St Paul’s Underground Station …
This fearsome dragon on Fleet Street guards the western entrance to the City on the site of the old Temple Bar. He looks like something straight out of a Harry Potter story …
I love spotting the wide variety of weather vanes that populate the skyline even in a City crowded with new skyscrapers. This one referencing the horrific death of a martyr sits atop St Lawrence Jewry (EC2V 5AA) …
St Lawrence was executed in San Lorenzo on 10 August 258 AD in a particularly gruesome fashion, being roasted to death on a gridiron. At one point, the legend tells us, he remarked ‘you can turn me over now, this side is done’. Appropriately, he is the patron saint of cooks, chefs and comedians.
The church of Anne and St Agnes also stands in Gresham Street and is unmistakable by its letter ‘A’ on the weather vane on top of the small tower. It is named after Anne, the mother of the virgin Mary and Agnes, a thirteen year old martyr (EC2V 7BX) …
Now compare and contrast these two war memorials.
In Holborn is this work by Albert Toft. Unveiled by the Lord Mayor in 1922, the inscriptions read …
To the glorious memory of the 22,000 Royal Fusiliers who
fell in the Great War 1914-1919 (and added later) To the Royal Fusiliers
who fell in the World war 1939-1945 and those fusiliers killed in
subsequent campaigns.
Toft’s soldier stands confidently as he surveys the terrain, his foot resting on a rock, his rifle bayoneted, his left hand clenched in determination (EC1N 2LL).
Behind him is the magnificent, red terracotta, Gothic-style building by J.W. Waterhouse, which once housed the headquarters of the Prudential Insurance Company. Walk through the entrance arch to the courtyard and you will see the work of a sculptor who has chosen to illustrate war in a very different fashion. The memorial carries the names of the 786 Prudential employees who lost their lives in the First World War …
The sculptor was F V Blunstone and the main group represents a soldier sustained in his death agony by two angels. He is lying amidst war detritus with his right arm resting on the wheel of some wrecked artillery piece. His careworn face contrasts with that of the sombre, beautiful girls with their uplifted wings. I find it incredibly moving.
I have written about angels in the City before and they are usually asexual, but these are clearly female.
And finally, as I walked along Cornhill one day I glanced up and saw these rather sinister figures silhouetted against the sky…
Closer inspection shows them to be devils, and rather angry and malevolent ones too …
They look down on St Peter upon Cornhill and are known as the Cornhill Devils (EC3V 3PD). The story goes that, when plans were submitted for the late Victorian building next to the church, the rector noticed that they impinged slightly on church land and lodged a strong objection. Everything had to literally go back to the drawing board at great inconvenience and expense. The terracotta devils looking down on the entrance to the church are said to be the architect’s revenge with the lowest devil bearing some resemblance to the cleric himself.
If this resembles the rector he must have been a pretty ugly guy!
Unfortunately I have no idea what these letters and numbers signify …
Even without the Christmas enhancements I like the London Wall Place lighting very much and you can read more about the thinking and planning behind it here.
As every year, Tower 42 amuses us with a homage to ‘Christmas Jumper Day’ …
And its usual Christmas tree …
You also see some strange sights around the City this time of year. For example, this Star Wars Stormtrooper patrolling the desks in the WeWork building …
And this unusual evening visitor to Salters’ Hall …
And finally, Shard Lights returned on 9th December 2019, transforming the top 20 storeys of The Shard into an exciting and colourful spectacle, visible across the capital.
The show, designed with help from local schoolchildren, features three, nine-minute sequences displayed every half hour from 4pm to 1am each evening throughout the month. Each sequence reflects the children’s designs and here are a few examples …
On New Year’s Eve there will be a unique display from when the clock strikes midnight to the early hours of New Year’s Day before the show comes to a close.
Wow, doesn’t time fly. It’s time for another Christmas quiz!
There are 20 questions with answers supplied at the end of the blog. All questions relate to subjects I have written about during 2019.
Have a wonderful Christmas and a Happy New Year!
This extraordinary building near Liverpool Street Station is now a restaurant. But what was it when it first opened in 1895?
2. This man as portrayed in glazed faience reliefs in Widegate Street is clearly working very hard. What does he have in the sack?
3. What’s the name of the alley where this ecclesiastical man’s head peers down on us?
4. You’ll find various versions of this elegant lady throughout the City. What famous livery company does she represent?
5. Just what is this happy chap up to?
6. These men are going to meet a nasty end in this 1964 horror movie. What was the film called and what City church are they entering?
7. Where is this winged horse and what is it an emblem of?
8. This voluptuous lady resting on a plinth in the Broadgate Centre has an appropriate nickname. What is it?
9. Why is the Thames riverbank littered with thousands of lumps of chalk?
10. This pretty lady in a Hart Street church looks like she is in mid-conversation. Who is she?
11. These offices in Garrett Street off Golden Lane have a very shallow, sloping set of stairs as a result of the original use of the building in 1897. What was that use?
12. What famous piece of home entertainment equipment was once manufactured in these premises on Old Street? The name of the building is a subtle clue.
13. What can you sometimes hear if you put your ear to this grating at the junction of Greville Street and Saffron Hill?
14. Where can you find this wall tile representing the Palace of Westminster?
15. Why does this elaborate water fountain memorial contain a carving of a Christmas cracker?
16. This creature was a sculptor’s best effort at imagining what an alligator looked like. Where is it?
17. Where is this unusual post box and what is particularly odd about it?
18. Why did the word ‘Resurgam’ have a particular significance for Sir Christopher Wren?
19. What was the connection between the Thomas Cook Travel agency and Fleet Street?
20. No one takes much notice of it now, but why was this piece of street furniture once known as ‘The Pump of Death’?
Answers to the Quiz
It’s in Bishopsgate Churchyard near Liverpool Street Station and was originally a Turkish Bath. You can read all about its history here.
2. Also near Liverpool Street Station, this is the exterior of the former Nordheim Model Bakery at 12-13 Widegate Street. Here there are glazed faience reliefs which, as a group, show the bread-making process in beautiful detail. The man in the picture is hauling flour.
3. It is, of course, Pope’s Head Alley which runs between Cornhill and Lombard Street. I have written about it and other alleys and courtyards here.
4. She is a Mercer Maiden and marks a building, or an area, as belonging to the Mercer Company. She appeared a few times in 2019 blogs but I first wrote about her in detail here in 2017.
5. The artist Ben Wilson brightens up our lives by painstakingly turning pieces of discarded chewing gum into art. Read more about him and his work on the Millennium Bridge here.
6. The film was Children of the Damned and the church St Dunstan in the East. Read more and view a clip from the movie here along with a dramatic Iron Maiden soundtrack.
7. Pegasus, the winged horse, is the emblem of the Middle Temple in the Inns of Court.
8. Created by Fernando Botero especially for the site she is known as the Broadgate Venus.
9. On the Thames Riverbank large chalk beds were once laid down to provide a soft settling place for barges at low tide. Take a look at my Riverbank walk blog.
10. She is Elizabeth, the wife of Samuel Pepys, and her monument can be found in the Church of St Olave Hart Street. Pepys was distraught when she died from typhoid fever at the early age of 29. His memorial is directly opposite hers and their eyes meet eternally across the nave where they are buried alongside one another.
11. These were the stables custom-built in 1897 for the dray horses that pulled the Whitbread Brewery wagons. Where the staircase is now there was a slope which allowed the horses to be easily led up to the first floor.
12. Number 116 used to be the Margolin Gramophone Company factory. They manufactured the Dansette record player – a name very familiar to us baby-boomers. The stylus is a needle that rests against a record in order to play the recording.
13. Here you can occasionally hear the sound of running water since, directly underneath, runs probably the most famous of London’s ‘lost’ subterranean rivers, the Fleet.
14. Aldgate East station has some fascinating tiles that date from the 1930s. Many were created by the artist and craftsman Harold Stabler, who was commissioned by the London Passenger Transport Board in 1936 to design tiles to decorate new and refurbished underground stations. The first of the tiles were installed at Aldgate East when it was rebuilt in 1938.
15. It’s a memorial to Tom Smith, the inventor of the Christmas cracker. Read all about it here.
16. You will find this sculpture, which commemorates Queen Anne, outside the west front of St Paul’s Cathedral. The queen is surrounded by four allegorical figures and this one represents America. In 1712, this is what the original sculptor Francis Bird imagined an alligator would look like.
17 .This post box is just on the other side of the Henry VIII gateway to St Bartholomew’s Hospital. It’s unique in carrying no royal cipher and also because, although it faces the hospital, it is emptied from the other side of the wall in the street.
18. If you look up at the pediment of the south porch of St Paul’s Cathedral this is what you will see. Whilst staking out the foundations in the newly cleared site, Sir Christopher needed to mark a particular spot and asked a labourer to fetch a stone. The man came back with a fragment of a broken tombstone on which was carved 0ne word, RESURGAM – I shall rise again. Wren’s son later wrote that the architect never forgot that omen and it was an incident from which he drew comfort when the obstacles that arose during the long years of rebuilding seemed insuperable.
What a pleasure it is to enter the church and come face to face with this distinguished gentleman …
Robert Dow was a Master of the Merchant Taylors and during his life gave away a substantial sum to various charitable establishments. The value of his donations and those receiving the money are listed on his monument …
He lived to the great age of 90 and died in 1612. I love the expression that, when he eventually passed away, he was ‘full of days’. The skull his hands are resting on may be to remind us that we too are mortal, even as we relax and enjoy his company and read of his generosity.
Nearby is an eyecatching brown and cream alabaster monument. It commemorates Lord Darcy and Sir Nicholas Carew, both beheaded on Tower Hill for high treason against Henry VIII in 1537 and 1539 respectively …
The figure is a corpse resting on a bierwith the head thrown back dramatically.
The inscription reads …
Here lyeth Thomas Lord Darcy of the North, and some time of the Order of the Garter. Sir Nicholas Carew Knt. sometime of the Garter. Lady Elizabeth Carew, Daughter to Sir Francis Brian, Knt. And Sir Arthur Darcy Knt. younger Son to the abovenamed Lord Darcy. And Lady Mary his dear Wife, Daughter to Sir Nicholas Carew Knt. who had ten Sons and five Daughters. Here lye Charles, William and Philip, Mary and Ursula, Sons and Daughters to the said Sir Arthur, and Mary his Wife; whose Souls God take to his infinite Mercy. Amen.
More delights await you further inside the church.
This beautifully carved wooden panel depicts King David along with musical instruments …
It was created between 1713 and 1715 to grace the front of an organ gallery in the church of St Mary Matfelon, Whitechapel. When the church was destroyed by bombing on the 27th December 1940 the carving was saved and later restored …
In 1676 Thomas Whiting gifted the organ for the benefit of the ‘hole parrish’ …
The organ was originally built for his house, which must have been a substantial property to say the least.
There is a fine 18th century sword rest …
Sword rests (or stands) were originally installed in City churches to hold the Lord Mayor’s sword of state when he used to visit a different church every Sunday, a practice that ceased in 1888 as congregations fell and people moved to the suburbs.
There is a long eulogy to Benjamin Pratt inscribed on a hanging drape …
He affected to end his days in celibacy and departed this life on the 3rd day of May 1715 … he had just arriv’d at the prime of his age and was then taken from his labours to receive an exceeding great reward.
And now a memorial that positively demanded more research, an inventor who died ‘in want’ in 1831 and was finally commemorated by a Lord Mayor in 1903 …
The full story is fascinating and I can’t do it justice in this short blog. To read more go to the London Inheritance blog which you can find here.
A number of past Lord Mayors are commemorated in stained glass …
Now leave the church and walk around to the north side where a few gravestones have been placed against the wall.
This one contains an intriguing and poignant inscription to a son and his father …
It’s now much worn but, luckily for me, an audit of churchyard inscriptions was made in 1910 and this is what the tombstone tells us …
Sacred to the memory of
THOMAS EBRALL Citizen and Corn Merchant, shot by a Life Guardsman unknown, in the shop of Mr Goodeve, Fenchurch Street, 9 April, 1810 died 17th same month, in his 24th year.
THOMAS EBRALL, his father, died from his loss, 23 August, 1810, aged 48.
‘Died from his loss’, how sad. I have tried to find out more about the incident that resulted in young Mr Ebrall’s death but no luck so far.
The man who conducted the inscription audit at the turn of the last century was one Percy C. Rushen who noticed how they were slowly disappearing due to ‘atmospheric elements’ or ‘sacriligist’ vandalism. Here is a link to his book – my hero!
There is also an unusual water feature resembling a chest tomb …
Now cross the road to the Minories and look back …
The following drawing from 1740 by its builder, George Dance the Elder, shows the church looking exactly the same as it does today …
Incidentally, the church had a narrow escape during the Blitz when a bomb fell straight through the roof but failed to explode. The Blitz was an extraordinary period for the Rector of the day, who slept in the Crypt, surrounded by coffins, and climbed onto the roof during air raids to put out incendiary fires.
At the junction of Fenchurch Street and Leadenhall Street people usually hurry past this old water pump without a second glance, not knowing anything about some gruesome aspects of its history …
There was a well here for centuries and one appears to be shown on the Agas map of 1561 …
Look under the ‘A’ of Aldegate
After a pump was installed in the sixteenth century the water gained a reputation for being ‘bright, sparkling, and cool, and of an agreeable taste’. In the early 1870s, however, people started noticing the taste deteriorate and become foul. Then people who had drank the water started dying in great numbers in a tragedy that became known as the Aldgate Pump Epidemic.
It was known that Thames water was dangerous as illustrated by this 1850s drawing entitled The Silent Highwayman …
But Aldgate water originated in the healthy springs of Hampstead and Highgate and flowed underground – so it should have been safe.
The bad news broke publicly in April 1876 …
An investigation by the Medical Officer of Health for the City revealed the terrible truth. During its passage underground from north London it had passed through and under numerous new graveyards thereby picking up the bacteria, germs and calcium from the decaying bodies. The pump was immediately closed and eventually reconnected to the safer New River Company’s supply later in 1876. You will find a fascinating history of the New River Company if you access the splendid London Inheritance blog.
The epidemic was obviously a distant memory by the nineteen twenties when Whittard’s tea merchants used to …
… always get the kettles filled at the Aldgate Pump so that only the purest water was used for tea tasting.
I have discovered a few old pictures …
The pump in 1874- picture from the Wellcome Collection.
And in August 1908 a little East End boy refreshes himself using the cup attached to the pump by a chain …
The full picture …
The wolf’s head spout is said to reference the last wolf killed in the City of London …
Nice that it has survived intact into the 21st century.
Walking towards St Botolph’s church I saw on the left this magnificent drinking fountain ‘Erected by permission of the vicar and churchwardens’. It has a connection with the Metropolitan Drinking Fountain Association which I have written extensively about in my blog Philanthropic Fountains…
It’s dedicated to the memory of Frederic David Mocatta …
A wealthy bullion broker, after he had retired from the business in 1874 he devoted himself to works of public and private benevolence, especially in the deprived East End of London. It was people from that area who raised the money for this memorial and you can read more about him here.
A little bit further on is this 1950s police call box …
This is the third one I have discovered in the City and you can read more about the others here.
As you walk up the steps to visit St Botolph’s, turn around and look across the road. There are some old late Victorian buildings that have survived redevelopment and I was struck by how much care had gone into the decoration at roof height, even though very few people would be looking up to see it …
Next week I enter St Botolph’s and will write about some of the best and most interesting monuments and memorials in the City.
On Sunday 30th September 1888 at about 1.45 in the morning Police Constable 881 Edward Watkins turned into Mitre Square, a regular part of his beat.
In the southernmost corner, clearly picked out by the bullseye lantern on Watkins’s belt, lay the terribly mutilated body of a woman. Watkins ran across to Kearley and Tongue’s warehouse, knowing that the watchman there, George James Morris, was a retired police officer. Watkins found the door to the warehouse ajar, pushed it open, and found Morris sweeping the steps that led down toward the door.
‘For God’s sake, mate, come to my assistance,’ cried Watkins.
‘What’s the matter?’ asked Morris, to which Watkins replied, ‘There’s another woman cut to pieces.’
The woman was Catherine Eddowes* and she was destined to be named as the fourth victim of the Whitechapel Murderer, more commonly known as Jack the Ripper.
Around this time Charles Goad was compiling maps for use by the fire insurance companies and this is one of his earliest prepared just 20 months before the murder. The red spot indicates where the body was found …
The murder scene …
The Square today – I think I am standing approximately where she was was discovered …
The fact that ‘Jack’s’ identity has never been agreed upon has led to the practice commonly called Ripperology in which the crimes and possible perpetrators are endlessly debated and discussed. Needless to say there are numerous sources online but I found this one to be one of the most interesting including as it does a poignant list of poor Catherine’s possessions. You can find an account of her funeral here. (By the way, you can see an authentic police bullseye lantern in the City of London Police Museum and a picture in my blog The City’s Little Museums).
In the centre of my photograph of the Square today is an example of the Sculpture in the City initiative …
This is Climb by Juliana Cerqueira Leite. In this fascinating YouTube clip she explains how it was created.
As you stand in Mitre Square you can often hear children playing. They are pupils at Sir John Cass’s Foundation Primary School …
Note the red goose quill.
Sir John Cass was born in the City of London in 1661 and during his lifetime served as Alderman, Sheriff and the City’s MP.
In 1710 he set up a school for 50 boys and 40 girls and rented buildings in the churchyard of St Botolph Without Aldgate. Cass intended to leave the vast majority of his property to the independent school but, when he died in 1718, had only initialled two of the eight pages of his will. The incomplete will was contested, but was finally upheld by the Court of Chancery thirty years after his death. The school, which by this time had been forced to close, was re-opened, and the foundation established.
There is an old legend that he had a haemorrhage of the lungs which stained the quill pen with which he was initialising his will, and it is for this reason that the pupils of the school still wear red goose quills when they attend St Botolph’s Church on the anniversary of their Founder’s birth each year.
Two statues of children in blue coats stand over the previous girls’ and boys’ entrances …
The school was rebuilt in 1909 and I think these statues are reproductions. I don’t know if the originals still exist.
Blue was the distinctive colour for paupers, charity schools and almsmen, (hence Bluecoat Boys and Girls) and Cass’s School would have been called a Bluecoat School. By extension it typified the dress of tradesmen so that ‘To put on a blue apron’ meant to take up a trade. Incidentally, the great diarist Samuel Pepys, recording a trade riot in London in 1664, tells us that ‘At first, the butchers knocked down all the weavers that had green or blue aprons.’ Those were the days.
Here’s a bust of Sir John as displayed in the nearby church of St Botolph Without Aldgate, which I shall write about in a later blog …
Someone had tucked a two pence coin into his flowing locks but I didn’t like to remove it in case it was part of some arcane tradition!
On the school gates I noticed this very appropriate instruction …
I took this picture of St Botolph’s whilst standing behind another Sculpture in the City exhibit by Jyll Bradley …
Made from coloured sheets of edge-lit Plexiglas turned on their side and leant against a south-facing wall, Dutch / Light (for Agneta Block) creates an open-glasshouse pavilion that is activated by the sun. The work references the so-called ‘Dutch Light’ a horticultural revolution that hit British shores over three centuries ago as Dutch growers pioneered early glasshouse technology.
There is lots more to see around Aldgate and St Botolph’s so I shall return next week.
*None of the research I have done suggests that Catherine was a prostitute and this is confirmed in a new book, The Five, by Hallie Rubenhold, which you can read more about here.
Although I have written about Fleet Street in an earlier blog, I always find something new to write about when I walk there.
How about these impressive gates incorporating the words ‘Serjeant’s Inn’ …
What caught my eye, however, was the dove perched on a twisted serpent and the words Prudens Simplicitas (Prudent Simplicity). This was the motto of the Amicable Society which was based here from 1838 and was the world’s first mutual life insurance company. The unusual choice of creatures may refer to a biblical quotation in which Jesus exhorted followers to be ‘wise as serpents, gentle as doves’. Lost during building works, the gates were rediscovered in a scrapyard in 1937 and returned to their original position here in 1970.
The arms were officially granted on 9 February 1808 to the Amicable Society for a Perpetual Assurance Office and re-granted 14 April 1938 to the Norwich Union Life Insurance Society after the two organisations merged. You can see the dove and serpent in the Norwich Union coat of arms …
Esto Perpetua means ‘Be everlasting’.
There is more information about the coat of arms and its fascinating symbolism here, the connection with Aviva here, and my blog about Insurance Company ghosts here.
How sad that the venerable Thomas Cook travel agency has gone into compulsory liquidation. Cook started organising leisure trips in the summer of 1841 when he arranged a successful one-day rail excursion at a shilling a head from Leicester to Loughborough. During the next three summers Mr Cook put together a succession of trips, taking passengers to Leicester, Nottingham, Derby and Birmingham. Four years later, he organised his first trip abroad, taking a group from Leicester to Calais. This was followed in the 1860s by trips to Switzerland, Italy, Egypt and America …
In partnership with his son, John Mason Cook, he opened an office in Fleet Street in 1865. In accordance with his beliefs, Mr Cook senior and his wife also ran a small temperance hotel above the office. You can still see the office now. It is graced with numerous globes and cherubs …
Hundreds of cherubs live in the City – you can find many of them pictured in my blog Charming Cherubs.
The Cook family sold the business in 1928 and the Thomas Cook brand has just been saved from obscurity after theChinese owner of Club Med said it would buy the name for £11m. There is a nice potted history of the company here.
Once the beating heart of newspaper journalism, Fleet Street’s printing past survives only in some commemorative plaques and old signage.
Many of the alleys and courtyards contain plaques at their entrances. This one recalls a dramatic event as reported by The Sun newspaper …
Computerisation is represented, a bit bizarrely I think, by the electronic Pac-Man game …
And some old signage is still clear …
Child’s Bank has traded from the same Fleet Street site since 1673. Its impressive Grade II* listed premises, designed by eminent architect John Gibson, were opened here in 1880 …
I really like the following story. When the founder’s grandson, Robert Child, died in 1782 without any sons he refused to leave his interests in the Bank to his daughter because she had eloped earlier that year with the Earl of Westmoreland. Child didn’t want the Earl to get hold of the Child family wealth so he left it in trust to his daughter’s second surviving son or eldest daughter. This turned out to be Lady Sarah Sophia Fane who was born in 1785. There must have been a great supply of Earls at the time because she married the Earl of Jersey in 1804 thereby becoming a Countess. Here she is in a painting by Alfred Edward Chalon …
Sarah Sophia Child Villiers, Countess of Jersey (née Fane)
Upon her majority in 1806 she became senior partner in the Bank and exercised her rights personally until her death in 1867. She was known by the nickname ‘Silence’, which was ironic since, famously, she almost never stopped talking. The memoirist Captain Gronow, who disliked her, called her ‘a theatrical tragedy queen’, and considered her ‘ill-bred and inconceivably rude’.
And now two memorials to real Queens …
Mary looks down on Pret’s customers as they buy their lunch at 143-144 Fleet Street.
Mary Queen of Scots House was built in 1905 for a Scottish insurance company. The statue was the idea of one of the developers, Sir John Tollemache Sinclair, Bart, MP, who was a big fan of the ill-fated lady. The architect was one R.M. Roe, who concocted ‘a facade as frilly as a doily with lashings of French Flamboyant tracery’.
Her nemesis is commemorated nearby …
She looks young, doesn’t she?
This statue of Queen Elizabeth I is nearby in a niche at St Dunstan-in-the-West and its history is rather complex. Some current thinking is that the Queen dates from 1670-99 despite a date on the base of 1586, which would have made it the only statue carved in her lifetime. It is now thought that, rather than the date of sculpture, this date was inscribed on it when the statue was placed on a restored Lud Gate in 1670 after the Great Fire and is merely making reference to the original gate. When the gate was demolished in 1760 she was moved to a previous St Dunstan’s but this was torn down in 1829-33 to be replaced by the current building. Meanwhile it seems that the statue spent the time in the basement of a nearby pub. It was only when that too was demolished in 1839 that the statue was rediscovered and put in its current niche on St Dunstan’s. Millicent Fawcett, the prominent suffragist, left £700 in her will for the statue’s upkeep and the funds are managed by the Society for the Protection of Ancient Buildings.
I have written about Fleet Street and its features many times but I have no doubt that I will be doing so again!
I find myself continually drawn to the area around the Cathedral. There is always the constant background noise of tourist chatter but there is also something wonderful about walking around in the shadow of Sir Christopher Wren’s sublime masterpiece.
And there is also a lot to see.
This old Parish Pump, dated 1819, bears the name of St Faith’s Parish despite the fact that the church after which it was named was demolished in 1256 (yes, over 700 years ago) to allow for the eastern expansion of St Paul’s.
From the 1250s until the reign of Edward VI, the parish known as St Faith under St Paul’s literally worshiped beneath St Paul’s Cathedral, using a space the end of the west crypt under St Paul’s Quire. After the Great Fire of 1666 the parish was united with St Augustine Watling Street. The pump was once situated against railings of St Paul’s Churchyard close to St Paul’s Cross, but was moved to its present position in 1973.
The old parish still has a boundary marker on the wall of St Paul’s Cathedral School …
Emily Young FRBS is one of the country’s foremost stone sculptors and you can enjoy her work in the form of Angels I to V in the courtyard opposite the Cathedral’s main entrance. I never tire of looking at them …
I have written an entire blog about City Angels and Devils and you can access it here.
Now climb up the steps to the imposing West Door and admire, if that’s the right word, the elegant cursive script of the 18th century ‘vandals’ who scratched their names in the stonework …
Some of it is very high up which leads me to believe the marks were made by workmen using sharp implements whilst standing on a scaffold …
In the gardens you will find this pretty little drinking fountain …
An extraordinary coincidence occurred during the Cathedral’s rebuilding. Whilst staking out the foundations in the newly cleared site, Sir Christopher needed to mark a particular spot and asked a labourer to fetch a stone. The man came back with a fragment of a broken tombstone on which was carved 0ne word, RESURGAM – I shall rise again. Wren’s son later wrote that the architect never forgot that omen and it was an incident from which he drew comfort when the obstacles that arose during the long years of rebuilding seemed insuperable.
If you look up at the pediment of the south porch this is what you will see …
The sculptor Caius Gabriel Cibber was instructed to portray a phoenix rising from the ashes. This would not only be a fitting symbol for the Cathedral but would also include the one word that had cheered Wren two decades earlier.
In Paternoster Square there is this unusual sundial …
I took this picture on 28th September.
Opposite the Cathedral on Ludgate Hill is a nice double aperture pillar box …
It was cast in 1996 …
At that time Machan Engineering were the only foundry in the UK to make the traditional cast-iron pillar boxes. The company had supplied Royal Mail since the 1980s and used to get 150 orders a year but in 2014 they only received 20 orders and in 2015 they had just one. Sadly the business closed later that year.
I have written a blog devoted to City postboxes and you can find it here.
And finally, look closely at limestone wall which supports the signage for the London Stock Exchange Group. You will see a great collection of bivalves – oyster shells from the Jurassic period when dinosaurs really did walk the earth …
Read more about the City’s fossils in my blog Jurassic City.
As I walk around the City I often just take pictures with no particular theme in mind and it seems a shame not to share them so here is a random collection.
First up are a couple of Police Call Boxes that date from 1958. This one is in St Martin’s Le Grand …
And this one alongside St Lawrence Jewry in Guildhall Yard …
Along with the well-known TARDIS boxes the Metropolitan Police Service’s network of call boxes included the smaller Police Public Call Post, designed for the City’s narrower streets. Originally they were fitted with a telephone, a compartment for a first aid kit, and a large light attached directly or using a pylon to the top of the post. Once there were over 70 of them but they were gradually removed from 1969 onwards and these are the only two I have come across in the City. Incidentally, there are no longer any TARDIS boxes anywhere in London apart from when Dr Who is visiting (as of course you know, TARDIS stands for Time and Relative Dimensions in Space).
If you want more information there is a book by John Bunker called The Rise and Fall of the Police Box and you can read more about Dr Who and his time travelling machine here.
I liked this glimpse of a chandelier in the Goldsmiths’ Company building on a dull rainy day …
I have written before about Cliffords Inn Passage and how spooky it is with little natural light and the wall-mounted ‘deflectors’ designed to deter male misbehaviour and protect the brickwork …
Because I do most of my photography at the weekend the imposing doors at the north end have always been closed but last week they were open and I was able to take a cheerier view looking towards Fleet Street …
I like this shot which contrasts the blue paint of the subway entrance with the bold red facade of the Leysian Mission (which one day I shall get around to writing about) …
153 Fenchurch Street is squeezed between two glass office blocks but happily has survived 20th century redevelopment and contains this pretty cartouche. It shows two men fishing under a ribbon signage stating ‘Established 1740, Tull, 153 Fenchurch St.’
I am indebted to the London Remembers website for this information …
From Some Notes on the Ward of Aldgate (1904) “Messrs. SAMUEL TULL & Co., 12, Creechurch Lane, Rope, Line, Twine and Net Makers, established over 164 years. Originally at the sign of the “Peter Boat” (after the Apostle Peter), on Fish Street Hill, from there to 153, Fenchurch Street, and then for many years at 97, Leadenhall Street {now demolished}. They have a large number of customers of long standing — many of whom are of the same old school as themselves, the beginning of whose accounts go back for generations.”
I have also written before about Change Alley and its intriguing history. This plaque inspired me to do a bit more research …
Here it is some time in the 19th century …
Eventually it was swallowed up as Martin’s Bank expanded and bought local freeholds. There is an interesting history of the Bank and the local area which you can find here. It looks like it was written in 1969 and I think is a lovely piece of corporate memorabilia.
This carving is also in Change Alley but I have yet to work out what it represents. It looks like a church but not one I recognise …
I really have tried to like the Walkie-Talkie but just can’t. Here it is looming over the 19th century masterpiece that is 33-35 Eastcheap …
I like elephants and the doors of the Cutlers’ Company boast a fine pair (EC4M 7BR). The words are the Company motto Pour parvenir a bonne foy (To succeed through good faith) …
And finally, this sign on the wall of St Andrew by the Wardrobe is gradually disappearing (EC4V 5DE). Eventually no one will know that the key for the fire ladder is kept with the Sexton at nearby 52 Carter Lane …
Along with red telephone boxes, the red postbox is immediately recognisable as something intrinsically British and last week, as I passed the Penny Post’s founder’s statue, I decided to write a blog about them.
Here he is, cast in bronze and larger than life, looking across King Edward Street (EC1A 1HQ) …
Sculptor : Edward Onslow Ford (1881-2)
The unveiling took place on 17 June 1882 and the reporter for the City Press said all were impressed by the ‘grace and firmness’ of the statue’s attitude.
Sir Rowland Hill stands erect, in the attitude of an energetic and busy man, and, notebook and pencil in hand, may be taken to be engaged in some detail of his scheme.
It was originally sited outside the Royal Exchange and was moved, after some time in storage, to its present location in 1923. The area was then still dominated by the Post Office but gradually work was moved to Mount Pleasant and the main building sold to bankers Merrill Lynch in 1997.
The post box nearby to the north only dates from 2001 …
Now stroll through Postman’s Park (EC1A 7BT) to St Martin’s Le Grand, maybe pausing on the way to investigate the Watts Memorial to Heroic Self Sacrifice. Turn right after you leave the park and few yards ahead you will find this fascinating replica …
The box was topped with acanthus leaves and ball and was made in three sizes, with five distinct types.
This early box was designed by the architect John Penfold in 1866. Green was chosen as the colour so the box would blend in with the landscape but it was replaced by ‘pillar box’ red in 1884 to improve visibility. Penfold had a fascinating career which included the re-design the Jewin Street area in the City of London after it had been destroyed by a large fire. It was again destroyed in the Blitz and now houses the Golden Lane Estate.
Devotees of trivia may be interested to note that in the cartoon series Danger Mouse DM’s sidekick is named Penfold since the duo’s secret hideout was a post box (although not a Penfold one).
And now a story that might be an urban myth.
John Betjeman lived in this house in Cloth Fair for almost 20 years (EC1A 7JQ). The story goes that, if he had written a letter but couldn’t be bothered to go to the post box, he would put a stamp on it and cast it out the window in the certain knowledge that a helpful Londoner would find it and post it for him.
Sir John’s nearest post box would have been just on the other side of the Henry VIII gateway to St Bartholomew’s Hospital (EC1A 7BE) …
It’s unique in carrying no royal cipher and also because, although it faces the hospital, it is emptied from the other side of the wall in the street …
Hill’s 1840 Postal Reform act introduced affordable postage and easy-to-use adhesive stamps. Yet the nearest letter-receiving office was miles away from many communities. It took Anthony Trollope (the Victorian author, then a General Post Office official) to notice that in Europe, locked cast-iron pillar boxes were placed in convenient locations with regular collection times.
Trollope first introduced this efficient scheme to the Channel Islands in 1852, and pillar boxes emerged on the mainland the following year. By 1860, over 2,000 ‘standard’ design roadside boxes were established and by the 1890s, this had increased to 33,500. The UK now has about 115,500 and a Royal Mail post box stands within half a mile of over 98% of the UK population.
This box on Fleet Street has a plaque commemorating Trollope’s work …
As well as free-standing pillar boxes there are also those fitted into walls. Here’s an advertisement by James Ludlow, a firm that produced them …
Here are a few from the City (although not produced by Ludlow) …
A Victorian pair inChiswell street next to the Jugged Hare bar and restaurant (EC1Y 4SA)
And two from the Barbican highwalk …
These were made by the Carron Company, one of the major suppliers of letter boxes during the twentieth century. From the Mungal Foundry, near Falkirk, Stirlingshire they cast pillar boxes (from 1922), wall boxes (from 1952) and small lamp boxes for rural areas (from 1969 to 1982). The ironworks were first established in 1759 and played an important part in the Industrial Revolution as well as becoming famous for its naval cannons but the company became insolvent in 1982 after 223 years casting iron.
I am beginning to get the hang of the terminology now – this, for example, is a ‘double aperture’ box since it has two slots …
Some, like this one, still have a slot marked ‘Meter Mail’. Metered reply mail, or MRM, is a type of mail in which a business sends pre-printed, self-addressed envelopes or packages to customers with postage pre-paid in-house using a postage meter. This is much less common nowadays and many of the ‘meter mail’ signs are being removed.
Modern boxes are now being introduced with small businesses and eBay sellers in mind – here is one next to a Victorian box near Barbican station …
I know why the change is needed but I still know which one I prefer.
For all things postal I strongly recommend a visit to the Postal Museum where you can, among many other exhibits, admire this special Air Mail box, created to make communication with His Majesty’s Dominions around the world easier …
In last week’s blog I wrote about the classic fountains that can be found around the City. This week I’m looking at more modern versions and would like to start with this spectacular example.
When Lloyd’s Register outgrew their old building at 71 Fenchurch Street (EC3M 4BS) a stunning new extension was build alongside and this sculpture, called Argosy, is in the front courtyard. The website tells us that ‘the water action of the sculpture adopts the Coanda principle where water clings to overhanging surfaces, moving downwards over the reflective surfaces in rollwave patterns. The shape is suggestive of a ship’s hull and has been conceived to be seen and enjoyed from both below and above from the nearby building’.
Sculpture by William Pye (2009).
Incidentally, the courtyard it is in used to be the churchyard of St Catherine Coleman which was the last church to be demolished under the Union of Benefices Act (in 1926) – the old church railings are still there.
Tucked away in Aldermanbury (EC2V 7HY) is one of the City’s earliest permanent abstract public sculptures …
Glass Fountain by Allen David (1969).
It was commissioned by Mrs Gilbert Edgar who was ‘enchanted by the iridescent design’. She was wife of Gilbert H. Edgar CBE, who was a City of London Sheriff, and it was unveiled by the Lord Mayor of London in December 1969.
I have always liked the little pool and fountains outside the entrance to St Lawrence Jewry in Gresham Street (EC2V 5AA) …
One day when I was passing I saw three ducks in the water, parading around as ducks tend to do. Sadly I didn’t have a camera with me …
Nearby you have the opportunity to see two examples of fountains that gurgle up through the pavement. Here is the one outside 25 Basinghall Street (EC2V 5HA) …
There is a rather damp footpath running diagonally through it. It might be tempting to traverse it if you’ve over indulged at the Davy’s Wine Bar next door.
Here’s another version in Aldermanbury Square (EC2V 7HR), just across the road from Allen David’s fountain …
The traffic-free square was re-designed in 2006. Natural stone was used and over 20 trees planted with soft landscaping, new seating and a new water feature on the south side with 24 jets set flush with the paving.
The Salters’ Hall Garden (EC2Y 5DE) has been recently refurbished and looks wonderful …
Inside a new water fountain commemorates a past master …
The full inscription reads …
In Memory of Jock Russell, Master Salter 2001-2002. Sal Sapit Omnia (Salt seasons everything).
Looking for some water whooshing? Head off to the gardens alongside St Paul’s Cathedral where the formal layout consists of a sunken lawn with a wall fountain. The water pours from lion’s heads …
The fountain and garden were a gift from the Worshipful Company of Gardeners.
And finally to the Barbican. In Ben Jonson Place, two small dolphins stand on their tails and twist in opposite directions …
The sculpture is by John Ravera and dates from 1990.
This is more of a waterfall than a fountain …
View from the Andrewes highwalk
And from behind …
The fountains alongside the terrace are currently under repair so this is a picture I took last year …
I’d like to quote from the City Corporation’s little booklet on Fountains – it’s rather poetic in places.
‘Fountains are an important sensory diversion in the urban scene of the City. Whether a municipal drinking fountain or a monumental water feature, they provide a rich diversity of sculptural form, movement and sound. The movement provided by the water of a fountain is probably its most fascinating element. Still water seems lifeless, but when given motion, either by spurting, spraying, spouting, undulating or tumbling, it becomes full of life and vitality. Of itself colourless, water can direct and refract light rays, and when it is in the form of a fine mist, it can disperse all the colours of the spectrum. The sound of a fountain is also one of its most essential and most overlooked attractions. Whether the water is crashing, whooshing, gurgling or gently lapping, sound is an integral part of a fountain’s aesthetic appeal. This can improve significantly the quality of a space, not only by adding the sound of water, but also by blocking out the less attractive sounds of the City’.
So I was inspired to search out some nice examples and I shall start with this absolute beauty in the quadrangle at St Bartholomew’s Hospital (EC1A 7BE). Created in 1859, it shows naked boys holding aloft a shell with dolphin-esque waterspouts …
It was the idea of Philip C Hardwick, the Hospital Surveyor.
You can read the full story about its construction and the part it played in Bart’s history here on the Bart’s Heritage website.
Originally the water was projected much higher in order to be seen above the shrubs that had then recently been planted …
Picture credit: The Wellcome Collection.
Just across the road is the West Smithfield Garden (EC1A 9BD). Waste ground for a time, the site was finally laid out as public gardens by the Corporation of London and opened to the public in 1872 …
A drinking fountain with a bronze figure representing ‘Peace’ was erected in 1873 a few years after the armistice between France and Prussia was signed in 1871 …
The sculptor was John Birnie Philip (1824-1875).
You can see Lady Justice atop the Old Bailey in the background.
Before you leave the Bart’s area do visit the interesting little Hospital museum just inside the entrance to the quadrangle.
The St John Zachary or Goldsmith’s Garden in Gresham Street EC2V 7HN) is a haven of peace in the bustling City. Walk under the stunning golden leopard’s head symbol of the Goldsmith’s Company …
Down the steps in the sunken garden you will find this pretty little fountain …
You can read more about the garden and an interesting nearby sculpture called The Three Printers in my City Gardens blog.
Postman’s Park’s fountain is rather modest (EC1A 7BT) …
And finally, on the north side of Blackfriars Bridge is one of my favourites, recently liberated from behind hoardings and nicely restored (but sadly no longer pouring water) …
Sculptor Wills Bros.
The pretty lady represents ‘Temperance’ and she originally stood outside the Royal Exchange. The fountain was inaugurated by Samuel Gurney, MP, the Chairman of the Metropolitan Free Drinking Fountains Association, on 27 July 1861 and you can read more about him, and the Association, in my earlier blog Philanthropic Fountains.
This week’s fountains have been very traditional.
Next week I will look at more modern versions, including those that tend to pop up out of the ground …
First of all, some great news! You can now follow me on Instagram at :
www.instagram.com/london_city_gent/
Crossing the road outside St Paul’s Underground station I came across the surprising sight of 40 golden angels resting on swings above my head …
Entitled Lunch Break they are an installation by architects KHBT in collaboration with artist Ottmar Hörl. Intended to create a strong conceptual and visual link to the Cathedral it is, the note nearby tells us, also an emotional and imaginative work that is aiming to make people think and smile. ‘After all, in this particular time, guardian angels deserve some rest’ …
Outside the west front of the Cathedral is the statue commemorating Queen Anne, a Victorian replica of an earlier work that had become weathered and vandalised. The queen is surrounded by four allegorical figures and this one represents America …
She wears a feathered head-dress and skirt whilst her left hand grasps a metal bow. Her right hand may once have held an arrow.
What fascinated me, however, is the creature by her feet which resembles a rather angry Kermit the frog (alongside the severed head of a European) …
In 1712, this is what the original sculptor Francis Bird imagined an alligator would look like. A contemporary description of the statue states …
There is an allegator creeping from beneath her feet; being an animal very common in some parts of America which lives on land and in the water.
In the Diamond Jubilee Gardens close by is this work, The Young Lovers, by Georg Ehrlich (1897-1966). The Cathedral gives it a dramatic backdrop …
Ehrlich was a Austrian sculptor who was born and studied in Vienna. During the First World War he served in the Austrian Army and in 1930 he married the artist Bettina Bauer. After the rise of the Nazis, Ehrlich decided that it was too dangerous for them to be in Austria since they were both Jewish and they moved to London. He became a British citizen in 1947 and was elected an Associate of the Royal Academy in 1962.
Since the weather was so nice, I took the opportunity to capture this profile of the one-time Dean of St Paul’s John Donne …
John Donne 1572 – 1631 by Nigel Boonham (2012)
I have written about Donne before and you can access the blog here.
His bust points almost due west but shows him turning to the east towards his birthplace on Bread Street. The directions of the compass were important to Donne in his metaphysical work: east is the Rising Sun, the Holy Land and Christ, while west is the place of decline and death. Underneath the bust are inscribed words from his poem Good Friday – Riding Westward :
Hence is’t that I am carried towards the west, This day when my soul’s form bends to the east
The most familiar quotation from Donne comes from his Meditation XVII – Devotions upon Emergent Occasions published in 1624:
No man is an island, entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main … and therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls, it tolls for thee.
I really like this work by Paul Mount (1922-2009), also to be found in the gardens …
Amicale (2007)
Mount was one of the last British artists whose careers were interrupted by the Second World War. A lifelong pacifist, he served in the Friends Ambulance Unit in North Africa and then France, where he stayed on after the end of the war to do relief work. Once free to work again, artists like him never really lost their sense of a world to be made anew through art. For Mount, sculpture expressed an essential human dignity. He observed …
The way that two shapes relate is as important as the way two people relate.
There is a nice obituary notice about him and his fascinating life in The Guardian which you can access here.
And finally, every time I walk past St Paul’s I am struck by the beauty of the stone carving, take this example …
Or this abundance of cherubs …
And this meticulous carving around the Dean’s Door …
Christopher Wren paid the sculptor, William Kempster, an additional £20 for the excellence of his work.
As memories of wartime fade, these shrapnel marks from a nearby bomb blast serve to remind us of how close the Cathedral came to destruction …
A number of other City buildings bear scars from World War bombing and you can read about them here.
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Why has this 19th century drinking fountain got a carving on it that looks a bit like a Christmas cracker?
It’s located on the south west side of Finsbury Square and forms part of an elaborate memorial …
The inscription reads …
Erected and presented to the Parish of St Luke by Thomas and Walter Smith (Tom Smith and Co) to commemorate the life of their mother, Martha Smith, 1826 – 1898.
Martha was the widow of Tom Smith and here I would like to relate a little history courtesy of the excellent London Remembers website. In 1847, twenty five year old Tom, an ornamental confectionery retailer in Goswell Road, brought the French idea of a bon-bon wrapped in a twist of paper over to Britain. In 1861, probably inspired by fireworks, he introduced a new product line, ‘le cosaque’, or the ‘Bang of Expectation’, or crackers as we now know them. This successful product, originally used to celebrate any event you care to name, enabled the business to move to larger premises on Finsbury Square, where they stayed until 1953.
Smith and his sons knew a thing or two about advertising and were not modest about their wonderful products. Here’s a typical 19th century example …
I love the instructions to ‘Refuse worthless imitations’ and ‘Make Merriment everywhere’.
There is an example of a Tom Smith’s Cracker and box on display in the Museum of Childhood in Bethnal Green. This picture was taken by The Londonist who has written a very comprehensive blog about the memorial which you can find here …
Victorian Christmas crackers were filled with all sorts of trinkets and surprises – first they contained rhymed mottoes or verses, then some sort of fancy-paper hat, bonnet, mob-cap or masks. Considerable artistic talent was introduced in the adornment of these novelties.
And here is an image from the Tom Smith archive where you can also find the 2019 catalogue and order your Christmas supplies!
The company is now owned by Napier Industries and still holds a Royal Warrant.
Here’s the founder himself. He was born 1823 and died, quite young, in 1869 …
We can thank the company for going on to develop cracker contents like the novelty gift and corny joke. You also have to blame one of Tom’s sons for the paper hat we are obliged to wear, often with excruciating British embarrassment, at work Christmas parties.
Crackers never took off in America and it has been claimed that the British liked them because ‘it taught their children how to deal with disappointment at an early age’.
And now for something rather odd. The water fountain was funded by the sons but the daughters went their own way. A few yards away is this horse and cattle trough …
It bears the following inscription (now very faded) …
In remembrance Martha Smith 1898. Erected by her daughters P. L. and L. D.
The sons erect the splendid water fountain and the daughters erect the utilitarian water trough. Does this tell us something about their personalities or about Victorian gender differences?
Researching the origin of the Christmas cracker has been a genuine pleasure and if you want to know more there is a book about the ‘King of Crackers’ – I might just order a copy. You can find a review here.
Next up is the St Lawrence and Mary Magdalene fountain located on Carter Lane opposite St Paul’s Cathedral. Created as a joint enterprise between the two parishes that give it its name, the fountain was originally installed in 1866 outside the Church of St Lawrence Jewry …
An engraving from ‘The Builder’ publication 1866.
The location next to St Lawrence Jewry …
A man quenching his thirst in 1911.
It was dismantled in 1970 and put into a city vault for fifteen years, then stored in a barn at a farm in Epping. The pieces were sent to a foundry in Chichester for reassembly in 2009 and it was was moved to the current location the following year …
The work was designed by the architect John Robinson (1829-1912) and sculpted by Joseph Durham (1814-1877), both very famous men in their time.
The fountain takes the form of a niche with carved hood resting on granite columns. Set into the niche is a bronze bas-relief of Moses striking the rock at Horeb (Exodus. XVII. IV-VI) …
Water runs down the face of the bronze from where Moses’ staff strikes. To the left of Moses is the figure of a woman holding a cup of water to her child’s mouth.
Above the fountain is a carved stone statue of St Lawrence holding a gridiron (on which he was martyred) …
In the south-facing niche is a statue of St Mary Magdalene holding a cross, and with a skull at her feet …
The other two niches are empty but are believed to have originally held the names of past benefactors of the churches carved into white marble slabs. Below, a new brass tap has now been fitted which dispenses water when pressed.
I wrote about the City’s water fountains and their fascinating history a few years ago and you can read the blog again here.
At first glance, the City of London looks the epitome of the modern business metropolis, with soaring new buildings by important architects and bustling streets, restaurants and bars. On closer inspection, however, it is full of wonderful clues, symbols and (sometimes mysterious) evidence of its past history stretching back almost 2,000 years.
Take a walk with me as I point out some of these features so that you too can enjoy them
Unauthorized use or duplication of these words and pictures without written permission is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Symbols & Secrets with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.
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