Last Saturday I visited what is, in my opinion, the most extraordinary pub in the City, the Blackfriar …
It’s a tall, narrow, wedge shaped treat of a building squeezed in between two roads and a railway bridge.
A jolly, corpulent friar embodies the name of the place …
He harks back to the Dominican monastery that once stood on the site before the Dissolution of the 16th century saw it sold off or leased to weathy merchants.
You get a sense of how extraordinary this pub is before you even enter. Here the cellarer carries wine along with the keys to his domain …
Inspecting the day’s catch whilst either side friars tuck in to pie and cheese…
More carvings to make you smile …
Intricate brass signage …
And all this before you even go in the door.
And when you do, what a sight awaits.
Friars going about their daily lives. Harvesting on Saturday afternoon …
Above the bar, a bronze bas-relief entitled Tomorrow will be Friday depicts them catching trout and eels …
Singing carols …
You can dine in the cosy Grotto which was excavated from the railway vault. There are various sayings and mottos to amuse and enlighten you. HASTE IS SLOW, FINERY IS FOOLERY …
And my two favourites, A GOOD THING IS SOON SNATCHED UP with a grinning friar pushing a pig in a wheelbarrow …
I also like DON’T ADVERTISE TELL A GOSSIP …
Note the two devils. There are four in each corner of the room amusing themselves with an entertaining pastime – these two are play-acting and painting.
Admire the mosaic ceiling and observe the friar on the left …
He’s stuffing his face with food thereby representing one of the seven deadly sins – gluttony …
Five more sins are represented but for some reason ‘lust’ has been omitted.
More monks work hard supporting lamp shades …
There’s a lovely stained glass window depicting a friar working at dawn in a sunlit garden. Many people comment on his pointy, Mr Spock-type ears …
You will find a very informative and interesting history of the pub and the craftsmen who helped create its unique environment here in the excellent Victorian Web blog. I also strongly recommend this article by Jane Peyton which points out other aspects of the decoration that I have not mentioned. Read more about the City monasteries and in particular the Blackfriars in my blog on the subject which you can find here.
I’ve eaten here in the Grotto many times over the years and the food (especially the fish and chips) has always been good. If you visit, raise a glass to Sir John Betjeman and others who campaigned to save this building from demolition in the 1960s. It is now Grade II* listed and so should be safe from future vandals.
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Today I’m continuing the walk I started last week heading south along City Road.
Just before the Old Street roundabout you encounter two intriguing buildings. The first of these is The Alexandra Trust Dining Rooms …
In August 1898, newspapers reported a plan to provide cheap meals at cost price in a series of counter-service restaurants in the poorest parts of London. Sir Thomas Lipton, wealthy grocer and philanthropist, was prepared to spend £100,000 on building them; after the initial outlay the scheme aimed to be self-supporting. HRH the Princess of Wales – Princess Alexandra, wife of the future King Edward VII – lent her patronage. The scheme built on her Diamond Jubilee meal for the poor in 1897, for which the then Mr. Lipton had donated £25,000 of the required £30,000, and which succeeded in feeding 300,000 people. He was knighted at the start of 1898, made a Baron in 1902 and died in 1931 aged 83. A fine man with a fine moustache …
Called Empire House, the Old Street building opened on the 9th of March 1900. It had three floors of dining rooms each designed to hold 500 people – a number frequently exceeded in later years. The Morning Post reported that the basement included washing facilities for customers and an artesian well yielding 2,000 gallons of water an hour, and that 1,200 steak puddings can be cooked simultaneously. There were ‘electric automatic lifts’ to aid distribution of food to the dining floors, and a bakehouse with electric kneading. The Sketch described the establishment as a type of slap-bang – an archaic noun meaning a low eating house. Soup, steak pudding with two vegetables and a pastry costs 4½ᵈ.
The kitchen …
The men’s dining room …
The ladies’ dining room …
The Dining Rooms closed in 1951. You can read the full history of this fascinating enterprise here on the brilliant London Wanderer blog.
Further south is the stunning terracotta masterpiece that was once the Leysian Mission …
The crest above the main entrance bears the Latin words ‘In Fide Fiducia’ (In Faith, Trust), which is the motto of the Leys School in Cambridge. The object of the Mission organization was to promote the welfare of the poorer people in the UK …
At the dawn of the last century, like the Dining Rooms, the Leysian Mission was a welfare centre for the poor masses of the East End. As well as saving people’s souls, the Methodists who ran it believed in helping people in this life too. They thus offered health services, a ‘poor man’s lawyer’, entertainment in the form of film screenings and lantern shows, as well as hosting affiliated organisations such as the Athletic Society, the Brass Band, the Penny Bank, the Working Men’s Club and Moulton House Settlement for Young Men …
The Methodist meeting places ‘were all built to look as un-churchlike as possible in an attempt to woo the working classes away from the temptations of drink and music halls.’ The building’s Great Queen Victoria Hall, which seated nearly 2,000 people, boasted a magnificent organ as well as a stunning stained glass window.
Plans published in The Building News 1901 …
The combination of the Second World War, during which the building suffered extensive bombing damage, followed by the introduction of the welfare state and the changing social character of the area saw the Leysian Mission gradually lose its relevance as a welfare centre. In the 1980s it merged with the Wesleyan Church with the building sold, converted into residential flats and renamed Imperial Hall.
Plaques that were ‘fixed’ by VIPs when the building was completed in 1903 are still there …
I like the posh brass intercom system …
At the roundabout there’s another plaque, this time commemorating the City Road Turnpike …
Road pricing is not new! Between the 17th and 19th centuries, the capital operated an extensive system of toll gates, known as turnpikes, which were responsible for monitoring horse-drawn traffic and imposing substantial charges upon any traveller wishing to make use of the route ahead.
A ‘General Plan For Explaining The Different Trusts Of The Turnpike Gates In The Vicinity Of The Metropolis. Published By J. Cary, July 1st, 1790’ …
Just like today, certain lucky users were exempt from the charge – namely mail coaches, soldiers, funeral processions, parsons on parish business, prison carts and, of course, members of the royal family.
Vandals today damaging or destroying ULEZ cameras can feel something in common with these people – a ‘rowdy group of travellers causing trouble at a turnpike in 1825’ …
As you cross the road by the roundabout, look west along Old Street and you’ll see a magnificent old sign, a relic of the area’s industrial past. An extract from the blog of the Greater London Industrial Archaeology Society reads as follows:
‘It is pleasing to discover that last year the sign, which is thought to date from early in the 20th century, was restored (though without the black paint Bob thought might originally have featured) and now looks very good. It was presumably erected by J Liversidge and Son, wheelwrights and later wagon and van builders, who occupied 196 Old Street for some decades. The firm first appears in the Old Kent Road in the 1880s; by the 1890s they had expanded into Hackney and then into Old Street. By 1921 they were back in the Old Kent Road alone, the development of motor vehicles presumably having removed much of their busines’ …
I like the hand pointing down to the site (it’s now a petrol station) …
It’s on the east wall of what was once St Luke’s School who presumably made an appropriate charge for allowing its installation …
I paused to admire Old Street Station’s green roof …
Just past the roundabout on the left there’s a building that’s a bit of a mystery. It’s almost opposite the entrance to the Bunhill Burial Ground and has been derelict for as long as I can remember (and that’s quite a while) …
Very strange. On the north wall is a plaque bearing the coat of arms of the Worshipful Company of Ironmongers, so maybe they own the building …
I thought it would be appropriate on this walk to acknowledge the founder of Methodism, John Wesley, and pop in for a brief visit to his chapel …
It’s well worth a diversion.
You can admire the stained glass of which there are many fine traditional examples …
Plus some striking, unusual contemporary works …
Margaret Thatcher (then Margaret Roberts) married Denis Thatcher here on 13 December 1951 and both their children were christened here. She donated the communion rail in 1993 …
On 28 February 1975 at 8:46 am at Moorgate Station 43 people died and 74 were injured after a train failed to stop at the line’s southern terminus and crashed into its end wall. No fault was found with the train, and the inquiry by the Department of the Environment concluded that the accident was caused by the actions of Leslie Newson, the 56-year-old driver. A memorial tablet was placed in Finsbury Square …
Mr Newson is commemorated on the memorial along with the others who lost their lives. There has never been a satisfactory explanation for his behaviour, but suicide seemed unlikely. Newson was known by his colleagues as a careful and conscientious motorman (driver). On 28 February he carried a bottle of milk, sugar, his rule book, and a notebook in his work satchel; he also had £270 in his jacket to buy a second-hand car for his daughter after work. According to staff on duty his behaviour appeared normal. Before his shift began he had a cup of tea and shared his sugar with a colleague; he jokingly said to the colleague “Go easy on it, I shall want another cup when I come off duty”.
It took all day to remove the injured, many of whom had to be cut free. After five more days and an operation involving 1,324 firefighters, 240 police officers, 80 ambulance workers, 16 doctors and numerous volunteers all of the bodies were recovered. The driver’s body was taken out on day four. His crushed cab, at the front of the train, normally 3-foot deep, had been reduced to 6 inches.
On the north side of the square is this building …
Formerly Triton Court, it’s now known as the Alphabeta Building. Many years ago I would sometimes travel by train into the now demolished Broad Street Station. As the train approached the terminus I could see from my carriage what looked like a little boy standing on a large ball at the very top of the building. It looked like he was waving at me!
Well, he’s still there …
Now, however, I know the statue standing on top of the globe is Mercury (Hermes) the messenger and God of profitable trade. It’s by James Alexander Stevenson and was completed in the early 1900s. Though it would be impossible to see from the ground it’s apparently – as with all Stevenson’s work – signed with ‘Myrander’ a combination of his wife’s name (Myra) and his middle name (Alexander). Sweet. The renovated building is quite stunning inside as you can see here.
And finally to Moorgate Station, where a relic of its past life can be seen if you glance from across the road to the east facing entrance …
It’s a version of the logo of the City and South London Railway (C&SLR) adapted to show the carriages passing through a tunnel under the Thames where little boats bob about in the water. And for extra authenticity, I think the train on the right is coming towards us and the one on the left moving away. I love it …
This was the first successful deep-level underground ‘tube’ railway in the world and the first major railway to use electric traction …
The original service was operated by trains composed of an engine and three carriages. Thirty-two passengers could be accommodated in each carriage, which had longitudinal bench seating and sliding doors at the ends, leading onto a platform for boarding and alighting. It was reasoned that there was nothing to look at in the tunnels, so the only windows were in a narrow band high up in the carriage sides. Gate-men rode on the carriage platforms to operate the lattice gates and announce the station names to the passengers. Because of their claustrophobic interiors, the carriages soon became known as padded cells …
The genius behind deep tunnel boring was James Henry Greathead, a South African engineer (note the hat) who invented what was to become known as the Greathead Shield. His statue, below, was placed on Cornhill because a new ventilation shaft was needed for Bank Underground Station and it was decided that he should be honoured on the plinth covering the shaft …
It was such a nice sky I took another image which also shows the C&SLR logo incorporated in the plinth …
You can read more about him and his tunnelling innovation in my blog City work and public sculpture. You can also read the full fascinating history of the City and South London Railway here.
With global warming and rising sea levels just how safe are you as you walk along Cheapside? Read on to find out.
The City contains many examples of signs that were once important but have now ceased to have the relevance they once did.
If you know Wood Street then you will be familiar with the tower of the old church of St Alban, left stranded in the middle of the street as a result of wartime bombing and subsequent redevelopment …
Whilst walking past it one day, I noticed this mark chiselled into the base of the west side of the tower …
Then, on a later date walking past St Mary-le-Bow in Cheapside, I saw another one …
It isn’t so clear but if you want to see it look just below the notice boards on the Cheapside entrance to the church …
The mark is below the notice board on the left.
At first I thought they might be old War Department markers (see below) but didn’t think they were likely to be carved into churches.
I have subsequently discovered, to my personal surprise, that they are what is known as Bench Marks, and there are thousands around the UK indicating where the height above sea level has been calculated. Actually I have often wondered what was taken as ‘sea level’ since the sea tended to, well, go up and down. The decision was taken back in 1918 that the single reference point would be mean sea level at Newlyn in Cornwall. In its favour was that it was situated in an area of stable granite rock and the gauge was perched on the end of a stone pier at the harbour entrance where it was exposed to the open Atlantic. This meant it wasn’t liable to be influenced by the silting up of the estuary or river tide delays.
So now you know – Ordnance Datum Newlyn (ODN) is the national height system for mainland Great Britain and forms the reference frame for all heights above mean sea level. Bench Marks were made on buildings which surveyors believed were unlikely to be redeveloped or demolished – they would be the ‘bench mark’ for the surrounding area. Nowadays, however, satellites can measure this distance to the nearest few millimetres and Bench Marks are no longer inspected for accuracy.
The St Alban tower survived the Blitz as did the tower of St Mary-le-Bow …
The St Mary-le-Bow tower shortly after the war. Photo : ‘A London Inheritance’.
So you can feel relatively safe from drowning as you walk down Cheapside – by the ODN measurement the church Bench Mark is 56.269ft above sea level!
On the right below is an example of the sign I confused the benchmarks with …
Outside Trinity House, Trinity Square.
The ‘broad arrow’ mark is used to identify property owned by the War Department (which became the Ministry of Defence in 1964) and here it appears on a boundary marker. There are half a dozen WD marks in the vicinity of the Tower of London, all numbered like No 11 above (in ascending order they are numbers 8, 12, 13, 21, 28 and 29).
And finally, I always take a picture of ghost signs because you never know how long they are likely to last. Here is a selection …
A bit of history from the ‘old days’ before Big Bang. There is still a second door on the right but opening it no longer reveals dapper gents with pinstriped trousers perusing the Financial Times.
At the top of Lovat Lane EC3 are these old survivors …
A bonded warehouse held taxable goods ‘in bond’ until an importer redeemed them by paying the appropriate level of excise duty.
These printers, stationers and account book manufacturers were based in Wardrobe Place …
Another classic sign with smart shirt and cufflink …
This message on the wall of St Andrew by the Wardrobe is gradually disappearing. Eventually no one will know that the key for the fire ladder is kept with the Sexton at nearby 52 Carter Lane …
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I’ve been looking through my archive and some of these images made me smile when I came across them. I hope they cheer you up as well in these difficult times.
This notice is from the Inns of Court – home to distinguished members of the legal profession – and is placed at the entrance to the Inner Temple Garden …
What, I wondered, would a resident dog do for a living?
Maybe a judge …
Or perhaps a barrister …
I’m sure neither of them would be guilty of ‘fouling’.
Disconcerting message in Islington …
Yes, we’re prepared, we’ve got some wine in (although that’s probably not necessary).
Sign at a take-away food shop in Eastcheap …
Seems unfair that pigeons are banned even when they want to pay!
Although eating too much could mean you needing these people …
Bad railway news might be more palatable if delivered by a seagull wearing a hard hat and high-viz jacket …
Made me laugh …
Improvised directions …
If you are fencing off a large area for redevelopment work it pays to deploy some humour …
I’m sure the British Transport Police didn’t intend this suspicious character to look a bit like Priti Patel …
On Moorgate …
Especially the ones riding on the pavement.
Quite amusing …
Slightly spooky hotel signage …
I’ll drink to that …
Message from the local osteopath …
Classic public loo design …
But not much use if you’re ‘caught short’ nowadays …
There’s not much you’re allowed to do on the Barbican Highwalk. I like the trumpet and the iPod …
Bad doggy!
Note the cunning alteration here …
If you’re lonely in Bournemouth you can chat with the telescope …
Alongside Smithfield Market …
Bibulous monks outside the Blackfriar pub …
The facade of St Martin’s House at 1 Gresham Street is a delight …
Dating from 1891 it incorporates a wonderfully happy, smiling Mr Sun …
What also makes it charming is the rogue apostrophe ….
Surely it should read St Martin’s House?
Brenden Bracken worked for Winston Churchill during the War …
So the Zodiacal clock on the building named after him incorporates Churchill’s face …
Onward to London Wall. 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.
I have, of course, collected quite a few ghost signs …
Classic pointing finger with smart shirt and cufflink …
Another pointed finger (this time it looks like with thumb extended) …
This sign on the wall of St Andrew by the Wardrobe is gradually disappearing. Eventually no one will know that the key for the fire ladder is kept with the Sexton at nearby 52 Carter Lane …
I took this picture three years ago …
Wardrobe Place is a little oasis of calm that escaped the Blitz …
This sign on the far wall harks back to before the war when this area was a centre for printing and print materials …
It reads Snashall & Son. Printers, Stationers and Account Book Manufacturers.
Here’s a picture I took five years ago so it has faded a bit …
Some attractive and imposing signage has, of course, just vanished. This business on the Commercial Road was still going strong 20 years ago …
Now both it and evidence of its existence have disappeared …
Walking along Carter Lane I looked up and saw this engraving …
Rather mysteriously, this is part of the coat of arms of Prince Edward Island …
The motto translates as The small under the protection of the great and dates from 1769. You can read more about its history here.
I like these two post boxes on St Andrew’s Hill (now sadly out of use and painted black) …
The box on the left is Edward VII (1901 – 1910) and on the right is George V (1910 – 1936).
I also like the design of this water fountain beside St Paul’s Cathedral and the pretty sign above it …
And finally, a massive vote of thanks to Cubitts the opticians.
The little shop on the corner of Cheapside and Wood Street used to look like this until the 1990s …
Then it became a card shop and all the quaint old signage was painted over …
Now Cubitts have taken over the building and arranged for a nice restoration job (although the lovely glass that once graced the door has probably been lost forever) …
The magnificent London Plane tree that you can see in most of the pictures stands 70 feet high and is protected by a City ordinance which also limits the height of the shops …
The little garden at the back of the shop used to be the churchyard of St Peter Westcheap (also known as St Peter Cheap) which was destroyed in the Great Fire and not rebuilt. The railings incorporate an image of St Peter. In his lap and above his head are the Keys to the Kingdom of Heaven …
The plaque in the churchyard attached to the shop’s northern wall confirms the age of the building, an early example of the reconstruction after the Great Fire of 1666 …
You can read more about this corner of the City and its history in my blog. A shop, a tree and a poem.
I hope you enjoyed that little trip to my image archive.
Last week I took a walk along the path south of the river and saw some interesting sights which I will revisit in a future blog …
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I have driven along Commercial Road hundreds, probably thousands, of times and often thought it would be good to take a closer look. These images are the result.
Commercial Road was constructed in 1802–6 as a direct route to link dock traffic between the West India Docks and East India Docks to the City of London. It’s now flanked on either side by numerous businesses involved in the garment trade, which has been historically based in the area. Many are small enterprises and most seem to be ‘wholesale only’ although some are happy to take orders as low as £150.
Here are my favourites.
First up – rather spooky manikins …
They reminded me of the scary shape-shifting robot in the Terminator movie …
They’re a bit less scary when dressed up …
Hats and heads, starting with the obvious place …
Across the road … Boy George? …
Heads awaiting hats …
Why do I find this one so disturbing?
Hey, good looking …
A nice window composition …
Some miscellaneous pics …
When I first read this I thought it said ‘naughty wear’. Actually, I suppose it is …
Every window frame seems to be plastered with ads like these …
Items I was tempted to buy.
Surely my wife would appreciate this …
… and maybe I should plan in advance for a cold Winter …
Someone has misbehaved …
I really enjoyed my visit to this vibrant part of London and I hope you enjoyed viewing the images.
I went home via Aldgate East Underground Station, admiring the 1930s roundel at the entrance …
I took advantage of a sunny afternoon to inspect more closely the fascinating architecture I had often observed on St John Street. It’s an ancient route, described in 1170 as the street ‘which goeth from the bar of Smithfield towards Yseldon [Islington]’. This is the earliest known documentary reference to the street, which later became known simply as ‘Clerkenwell Streete’. Its present name is taken from the adjacent priory of St John, established by the Knights Hospitallers in the twelfth century.
You can see it here on the Agas Map of 1561 (as reprinted and modified in 1633) …
Starting my walk at the Smithfield Market end the first buildings I encountered were numbers 1 and 3-5 (EC1M 4AA). The sunlight showed them off to great effect …
The ‘Venetian’ style Number 1 appears to have been built in the mid-1880s for the charmingly named Frederick Goodspeed, a grocer who had acquired, and briefly ran, an old coffeehouse on the site.
My camera couldn’t do justice to the decorations on numbers 3-5 so I have borrowed this image from British History Online …
The building was constructed in 1897 for William Harris the ‘Sausage King’, sausage manufacturer and proprietor of a well-known restaurant chain specialising in sausage and mash. Faced in brick with stone dressings, it shows Arts-and-Crafts and Art Nouveau influence; the south front rises to an ornate gable decorated in relief with a wild boar, Harris’s name and the date. Here’s one of his promotional leaflets aimed at ‘City Clerks and others’…
The Victorians loved an eccentric and he obliged, whether it be by dressing entirely inappropriately for his job (opera hat, dinner suit and cravat with diamond pin) or riding a pig from Brighton to London (with the words ‘tomorrow’s sausages’ written cruelly on its back).
Harris’s registered trademark was a colour picture of himself riding a huge pig to victory in the ‘Pork Sausage Derby’ …
Harris in full self-promotion mode …
One anecdote tells of the time when he was visiting Brighton and a tramp ran off with a string of sausages from one of William’s shops. The thief was caught, and was challenged to a sausage-eating contest – if the tramp won he could go free. A huge crowd gathered to watch; when William delightedly won (by four sausages) he gave the tramp a sovereign and his freedom.
William ‘No. 1’ Harris, as he styled himself, lived over the shop at with his family including sons William ‘No. 2’ (Prince of Sausages) and William ‘Nos. 3 and 4’. His firm, William Harris & Son, remained here until the late 1950s or early 60s.
Number 7 was the scene of a tragedy. The so-called Clerkenwell Cinema Fire occurred in the Dream City ‘adult cinema’ (also known as the ‘New City Cinema’) on 26 February 1994. Due to the pornographic nature of the films it screened, and the strict cinema licensing regulations in London at the time, the cinema was operating illegally, and thus was not subject to fire inspections as legal entertainment venues were …
The fire was caused by arson when a deaf, homeless man called David Lauwers (known to his friends as ‘Deaf Dave’) lost a fight with a doorman over entry fees. After being ejected from the cinema, Lauwers returned with a can of petrol and set fire to the entrance area. The fire took hold rapidly, trapping most of the staff and patrons within. Eight men died at the scene, seven from smoke inhalation and one from injuries sustained from jumping from a high window in the building, and there were three further fatalities in the following months in hospital, as well as thirteen injuries. Lauwers was later given a life sentence.
You can read a dramatic recounting of what happened that night in this blog by a Retired London Fireman.
On the left, the building today …
Numbers 69-73 consist essentially of two houses built in 1817–18, originally separated by the entry to a large yard, where warehousing was later built …
British History Online tells us that Number 69 appears to retain its original façade, but the other house has been refronted; this may have been done in 1896 when it was extended over the alley and the two houses thrown into one, together with the cork-warehouses at the rear, which had been partly rebuilt following a fire in 1882. The treatment of the ground floor at No. 69, with arched openings and Ionic pilasters, executed in stucco, is the remnant of a remodelling of the whole ground-floor front of probably carried out in the mid-nineteenth century. The present shopfront at No. 73 dates from 1884, though it has been altered in recent years.
Number 57 was once the White Bear pub dating from 1899 …
Now closed, it looks like a Covid victim.
At 115-121, this block of tenements and shops belongs to the select group of public housing schemes designed by the LCC Architect’s Department in the 1890s and early 1900s in an Arts-and Crafts or ‘English Domestic’ idiom …
Built in 1904–6, Mallory Buildings stands on part of the site of the medieval priory of St John, relics of which were discovered during the excavation for the foundations. The name commemorates Robert Mallory, one of the former priors.
Numbers 159–173 once housed Pollard’s Shopfitting works with construction being carried out in 1925–7. The new building contained showrooms, offices, workshops and stores. On the fourth floor were the main administrative offices, and the boardroom, panelled in Italian walnut with Ionic pilasters …
Black granite was used to frame the bronze entrance doors …
Founded in 1895 by Edward Pollard, Pollards held the English patents for the American invention ‘invisible glass’, used in shopfronts. This employs steeply curved concave glass to deflect light towards matt black ‘baffles’ so that no reflections show in the window. The company installed invisible-glass windows in several important London stores, including Simpsons of Piccadilly (now Waterstones), where they remain intact as well as at Fox’s Umbrellas on London Wall (now a wine bar) …
In 1967 the Pollard Group relocated to Basingstoke and the business continues today as Pollards Fyrespan, now in Enfield. The former Clerkenwell works are now used as offices and small-business workshops.
Three old houses survive at numbers 181–185 …
Finally, at numbers 223-227 you can look up and see the name Ingersoll picked out in green and cream mosaic. The factory was built in the 1930s for property speculator Gilbert Waghorn. Before it was completed, Ingersoll agreed to move in and so the architect, Gilbert’s brother Stanley Waghorn, modified slightly the parapet on the St John Street façade to incorporate the logo …
The Ingersoll Watch Company grew out of a mail order business started in New York City in 1882 by 21-year-old Robert Hawley Ingersoll and his brother Charles Henry Ingersoll. When they added the one-dollar watch to their catalogue, the business really took off. Millions were sold and they cheekily boasted it was …
In 1904 they opened a store in London and in 1905 Robert sailed to England and introduced the Crown pocket watch for 5 shillings, which was the same value as $1 at the time (four dollars to the pound – those were the days!) …
Business boomed even more when they won the contract to produce Mickey Mouse watches for Disney …
Ingersoll went bankrupt during the recession that followed World War I. It was purchased by the Waterbury Clock Company (now the Timex Group USA) shortly after for 1.5 million dollars. Today they are owned by Zeon Watches, a British subsidiary of the Chinese company, Herald Group. They are still distributing Ingersoll watches in more than 50 countries around the world.
I will be returning to St John Street again in a future blog. In the meantime, perhaps you can imagine how this narrow thoroughfare got its name?
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Where do you think this pretty marble fountain is located?
And Italian piazza? A rather posh park? A country house garden?
A little boy holds a goose’s neck from whose mouth water would flow if the fountain was working …
The big surprise about its location is apparent when you gaze upwards …
Looming over you is the 600ft Tower 42, previously the NatWest Tower.
This is Adam’s Court and you gain entrance from either Old Broad Street or Threadneedle Street. This is the entrance from the former …
The elegant clock above the entrance is supported by two fishes. Unfortunately it’s not working and the glass has got rather grubby …
Shortly after entering you will see these attractive wrought iron gates bearing the initials NPBE and the date 1833. The initials refer to the National Provincial Bank of England which was founded in that year …
Further on is a totally unexpected green open space (alongside which is the little boy’s fountain) …
If you carry on and exit on to Threadneedle Street and look back you will see another set of ornate gates …
These are 19th-century, and were originally for the Oriental Bank. The grand building with the arch in the background was also part of the Bank, but the building was later taken over by the neighbouring National Provincial Bank, and their monogram added.
Look at the spandrels above the window … …
Two men are holding the reins of two camels.
Across the road from Adam’s Court on Old Broad Street is the enticing entrance to Austin Friars …
Before you cross the road, look right and admire the old City of London Police call box which has retained its flashing light indicating a caller was in need of help …
Walking through Austin Friars you pass a studious monk, writing in a book with his quill pen …
Eventually in front of you is the tucked away entrance to the atmospheric Austin Friars Passage, where I came across my next big surprise …
Almost at the end I encountered an extraordinary sight, a bulging, sagging wall that was clearly very old …
But the wall looks even older and, sure enough, standing in the alcove that leads to the other side and looking up, I saw this …
Another parish marker dating from 1715 – from the since-demolished church of St Peter le Poer. What a miracle that this old wall (which is not listed) has survived for over 3oo years as new buildings have sprung up all around it.
Look up and you’ll see that one of those buildings has a particularly scary fire escape. I wouldn’t fancy running down that in a panic …
As you leave you can admire the charming ghost sign for Pater & Co …
The company was run by Arthur Long and Edgar John Blackburn Pater and traded from the 1860s to 1923 when Long retired and Pater continued on his own.
As is often the case I am indebted to the excellent Ian Visits blog for some of my background information. Here are links to Ian’s comments on Adam’s Court and Austin Friars Passage.
My earlier blogs on courtyards and alleys can be found here and here.
If you would like to follow me on Instagram here is the link …
I think the lockdown is finally getting to me. I usually don’t have much trouble thinking of a theme for the blog but this week I have failed. So instead, I just wandered around a still quiet City with my camera waiting to see what caught my eye. These are the results – I hope you find some of them interesting.
Now the pavements are deserted, it’s easier to look upwards as you walk and see what you might have missed on previous occasions.
The Victorians paid a lot of attention to decorative detail and I really liked these two faces, carved into bricks, looking out over London Wall. I’ve nicknamed them Beauty …
… and the beast …
And while on the subject of beauties and beasts, take a look at this view from Gresham Street …
The church is St Lawrence Jewry and behind it some modern buildings that I like, the Cheesegrater and the Scalpel, and one I don’t, a characterless glass monster growing on Bishopsgate.
There’s a nice little pond in front of the church …
It’s home to these Arum Lilies and Irises …
I have written before about Thomas Gresham and the college he founded was once based here at 90 Basinghall Street until 1991 (EC2V 5AY) …
Above the coat of arms rests the symbolic Gresham grasshopper …
The sun was perfectly placed to illuminate Ariel or The Spirit of the Winds by Charles Wheeler. She’s positioned on a cupola above the Bank of England on Tivoli Corner …
When she was unveiled in 1937 the Bank’s magazine stated …
It is the symbol of the dynamic spirit of the Bank which carries Credit and Trust over the wide world.
Ariel was, of course, the Spirit of the Air in Shakespeare’s Tempest, who by Prospero’s magic could ‘put a girdle around the world in forty minutes’.
I’m fascinated by this old Wall on London Wall. I can’t find out more about it but it looks Medieval to me (EC2M 5ND) …
London Wall has lots of examples of the wonderful work the small team of City gardeners do to keep beds and parks looking good all year round …
Austin Friars (off Old Broad street) was once the location of an Augustinian Friary until its dissolution in 1538. Walk in through an atmospheric doorway with its charming ghost signs …
When I visited the sun was in exactly the right place to illuminate the slightly spooky friar who reminds us of the area’s original purpose …
He resides at 4 Austin Friars, was sculpted by T Metcalfe and dates from 1989 (EC2N 2HA).
Near St Giles Cripplegate, the Columbarium is known as ‘one of London’s secret gardens.’ It lies to the east of the church down a flight of stairs. There are some niches on an outside wall and others are in a covered area enclosed by a gate …
And finally, two of the City of London Police’s finest …
… and their riders.
I really enjoyed my little walk and I hope you enjoyed reading about it.
It’s not much fun at the moment is it with a virus to worry about. So I thought I would pop in some light-hearted pictures this week and maybe cheer you up a bit.
First up, a brilliant busker collects donations using up-to-date technology …
Listen to him and his ‘backing singers’ by Googling ‘Bohemian Rhapsody Steve Aruni on YouTube’. I promise you will enjoy it.
A farmer chases his pigs across the front of The George pub with the Royal Courts of Justice reflected in the window …
Nearby a monk pours some ale into a jug. I think that’s his faithful dog next to him – I sincerely hope it’s not a rat …
Bidfood vans! I regularly see them delivering around the City and love the edible landscapes portrayed on the sides.
An orange sunrise between the cheese tower blocks …
A tranquil lake with bread hills and cauliflower clouds …
I know it’s not a Banksy, but this little flower cheered me up …
Colourful street art on Rivington Street …
Healthy eating options on Fleet Street …
‘Let’s ADORE and ENDURE each other’ on Great Eastern Street …
Postman, biplane and pigeon mural next to the Postal Museum …
Yes, the pretty guardian angels are still there on their swings opposite St Paul’s Underground Station …
I smiled at this at first …
…and then thought: ‘Hey, writing on seats isn’t good for them either!’
And finally, one of my favourite sculptures, Leaping Hare on Crescent Bell by the late Barry Flanagan on Broadgate Circle …
I have been loaned a lovely book called Streets of the City by Judy Pulley and have included some of the photographs from it for those of you who like looking at wonderfully atmospheric pictures from the past. You can buy your copy of the book here.
A photographer recorded the vast scale of the construction site for the Holborn Viaduct looking west towards Holborn in 1869. A hoarding advertises the ‘New’ St Pancras Station which opened the previous year …
The finished product …
A congested Fleet Street in 1905 …
The view today …
Shops alongside the entrance to Cannon Street station in March 1939. Three years later most had been destroyed by the wartime bombing …
Prince Albert doffs his hat to the City in 2020 …
In this picture His Royal Highness makes the same gesture at the turn of the last century…
Below is the view towards the west in 1910. The awnings outside Gamages store can be seen on the right and just behind Prince Albert’s statue a man in an invalid carriage braves the traffic. He should be OK if vehicles obey the sign on the lamp post which urges ‘Caution’ and ‘Drive Slowly’. Wallis & Co on the left advertises linens and blankets and has a display of parasols hanging outside the shop. …
Eastcheap as seen from the end of Cannon Street. The statue of King William IV was erected in 1844 when King William street was created as a new approach to London Bridge. The small cart in the centre is delivering ice and the buses are turning right towards London Bridge, just as they do now …
The busy west end of Cheapside at the corner of New Change around 1905 with omnibuses and a Royal Mail coach to the right. The statue is of Sir Robert Peel and was erected here in 1855 and then removed to Hendon Police Training School in 1939 …
The sign on the lamp post says ‘Standing for 10 Hackney Carriages’.
I particularly like this picture of Fleet Street in the 1930s because it shows the cart on the left laden with massive rolls of paper for use in the nearby printing presses …
It’s 7 o’clock in the morning in February 1937 and Lower Thames Street is at a standstill as fish from old Billingsgate Market is loaded on to carts …
The viaduct carrying the approach road to London bridge can be seen in the distance and to its left the church of St Magnus the Martyr.
Many of these pictures illustrate the enormously important role horses played in the life and commerce of the City right into the 20th century.
As I think I have said before, I never tire of walking around this part of the City, especially spotting things of interest simply by directing my gaze skywards.
I remember the heyday of printed news when the Fleet Street hostelries were frequently packed with journalists, lawyers and print workers ‘refreshing’ themselves at lunchtime and in the evening. Now you are more likely to encounter overseas visitors seeking out ‘authentic old English pub’ experiences.
Mr Punch advertises these listed premises at the east end of the street …
The previous building on the site was known as the Crown and Sugar Loaf but was renamed the Punch Tavern in the late 1840s because of its association with Punch Magazine which had its offices at that end of Fleet Street.
The Old Bell further west is also listed …
The story goes that it was built by Sir Christopher Wren to accommodate the stonemasons working on nearby St Bride’s Church and the rear of the pub does, indeed, date from 1669.
Between the buildings you can glimpse St Bride’s and its famous ‘wedding cake’ spire as you proceed from east to west …
Why would a business stress ‘discretion’?
Because it’s a pawnbrokers, still advertising their presence using the symbol of three spheres suspended from a bar, said to be a reference to the coat of arms of the Florentine Medici family …
I love this pair of spectacles and thought at first that the sign must date from the 19th century but in fact Whitby & Co have only been around for 20 years …
On the north side of the street you can see the evidence of past publications now, alas, defunct or relocated elsewhere …
Further along are the premises previously occupied by the Kings & Keys pub, once a favourite hangout place for journalists from the Daily Telegraph next door. The name is derived by the amalgamation of two licences of separate former pubs, the Cross Keys and the Three Kings …
It’s narrow because, like many other buildings fronting Fleet Street, it follows the size of the original medieval plot.
If you are a little tired by now and need to recharge batteries there are healthy snacks available nearby …
Onward to St Dunstan in the West which boasts this magnificent clock …
It dates from 1671, and was the first public clock in London to have a minute hand. The figures of the two giants strike the hours and quarters, and turn their heads.
The double headed eagle is the emblem of the Hoare family and their bank’s premises are at the Sign of the Golden Bottle – a practice dating from the time before buildings were allocated street numbers …
The London firm was started in 1672 by Richard Hoare and tended to the affairs of many famous literary folk including the diarist Samuel Pepys, poet Lord Byron and novelist Jane Austen.
What about these three squirrels busy chomping on nuts …
Gosling’s, originally a goldsmiths and later a bank, started trading at the Sign of the Three Squirrels around 1650. It was the fourth largest of the banks that joined together in 1896 to establish Barclay and Co Ltd as a joint stock bank. Today, Goslings remains the oldest branch in the Barclays Group and still occupies its original site in the City.
The adjacent Inns of Court were once so important to Lloyd’s Bank that they had a dedicated branch (with a pretty beehive emblem suggesting hard work and prudence) …
Looking skywards, you can observe these muscular chaps supporting the building’s upper stories…
And finally, at number 50 …
Sculpted by A. Stanley Young in 1913, the building housed both the Norwich Union Insurance Company and the lawyers of Serjeant’s Inn. On the left, the Insurance side, Lady Prudence holds a little hoard of fruit and a leafy branch whilst the cherubic figure of Liberality or Plenty spills his cornucopia of coins and fruit. On the right, the lawyers’ side, blindfolded Lady Justice rests against her shield and sword grasping the scales of justice in her left hand.
There are many versions of Lady Justice in the City and I have written about them here.
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!
When I started this blog I never thought I would be dedicating an entire issue to a pair of doors, but I hope you will agree that in this case it is appropriate.
32 Cornhill is the old headquarters of the Cornhill Insurance Company (EC3V 3BT) and I am going to write about the mahogany doors you can see on the right …
Here is a closer view …
Walter Gilbert (1871-1946) designed these doors in 1939. He was a designer and craftsman who developed his visual style in the Arts & Crafts movement at the end of the nineteenth century and then applied it to a wide range of architectural commissions in the twentieth century, including the gates of Buckingham Palace, sculpture for the facade of Selfridges and some distinctive war memorials. In this instance, he modelled the reliefs in clay which were then translated into wood carvings by B.P Arnold at H. H. Martyn & Co Ltd of Cheltenham.
They tell of events that took place in the area over the centuries. Below is a picture of each panel along with a description …
‘St Peter’s Cornhill founded by King Lucius 179 A. D. to be an Archbishop’s see and chief church of his kingdom and so it endured the space of 400 years until the coming of Augustine the monk of Canterbury’.
An architect holds up the church plans and a builder holds up a compass.
‘Eleanor, Duchess of Gloucester, did penance walking barefoot to St Michael’s Church from Queen Hithe, 1441’.
The Duchess, holding a lighted taper, performs public penance having been convicted of sorcery in 1441. Rather unwisely, because it was ‘treasonable necromancy’, she had asked the astrologers Thomas Southwell and Roger Bolingbroke to cast the horoscope of the then King Henry VI. Southwell died in the Tower of London, Bolingbroke was hanged, drawn and quartered, she was sentenced to life imprisonment.
The explanation reads: ‘Cornhill was anciently a soke of the Bishop of London who had the Seigneurial oven in which all tenants were obliged to bake their bread and pay furnage or baking dues.‘ A soke was a right of jurisdiction and the women have just paid the priest and are carrying away their freshly baked bread – they certainly don’t look very happy about the arrangement.
‘Cornhill is the only market allowed to be held after noon in the 14th century’. A stallholder sells apples to two ladies.
‘Birchin Lane, Cornhill, place of considerable trade for men’s apparel, 1604‘. A tailor adjusts a gentleman’s hem, an assistant holds a tape measure, the gentleman admires himself in a mirror. Suits you, sir.
‘Pope’s Head Tavern in existence in 1750 belonged to Merchant Taylor’s Company. The Vintners were prominent in the life of Cornhill Ward.‘ Nearby today is Pope’s Head Alley.
‘Garraway’s Coffee House, a place of great commercial transaction and frequented by people of quality’. Garraway’s was nearby in Change Alley and is commemorated now with this plaque incorporating Sir Thomas Gresham’s grasshopper emblem.
Change Alley EC3V 3ND.
‘Thackeray and the Brontes at the publishing house of Smith Elder & Co. Cowper, the poet, Gray the poet, Guy, the bookseller and founder of Guy’s Hospital, lived in Cornhill.’
The panel depicts Charlotte and Anne Bronte meeting with William Makepeace Thackeray at the premises of Smith Elder.
I hope you found the doors and their stories as fascinating as I did. These pictures were taken at the weekend but the doors open inwards, so you can still see them when the building is open.
It has been quite a while since I sought out animals in the City and so last weekend I took advantage of the sunny weather and went on another safari.
I always like to visit the Tower Hill memorial to the merchant navy and fishing fleet seafarers who lost their lives in both World Wars and have no grave but the sea. It’s a peaceful place on a weekend as virtually all the visitors to London have their eyes focused on the Tower of London across the road.
There are two memorials alongside one another and these pictures come from the one commemorating the almost 24,000 casualties of the Second World War (Trinity Square EC3N 4DH).
Dolphins feature highly in the allegorical sculptures by Sir Charles Wheeler representing the Seven Seas.
Here a boy is seen riding one surrounded by fishes and sea horses, above his head is a thorny snail …
A dolphin leaps through the legs of this figure who is creating the wind …
You can’t miss Neptune with a spider conch above his head and accompanied by another dolphin …
Across the road from Trinity Square is the church of All Hallows-by-the-Tower (EC3R 6BJ).
Substantially damaged in the War it was restored and reopened in 1957 with a new cockerel weathervane …
The beaver above 64 Bishopsgate (EC2N 4AW) is a reminder of the Hudson’s Bay company which once dominated the fur trade and was based nearby. Beaver fur was much sought after, particularly in the making of hats …
A golden rodent looks out across Bishopsgate.
Wander down to the end of New Street off Bishopsgate (EC2M 4TP) and you will find this ram over the gateway leading to Cock Hill …
It’s by an unknown sculptor, dates from the 186os and used to stand over the entrance to Cooper’s wool warehouse.
Outside 68 Lombard Street there hangs an astonishing five foot long grasshopper (EC3V 9LJ) the insect being derived from the coat of arms of the Gresham family. Buildings in Lombard Street were not numbered until 1770 and so when the Greshams lived and worked there a similar sign would have been used to mark their residence …
The year 1563 refers to the year Thomas Gresham (TG on the sign) set up his business here.
The present building dates from 1930 when it was destined to become the City office of Martin’s Bank (whose coat of arms included a grasshopper). The original family sign disappeared at the time of Charles II when such advertisements were banned after numerous serious accidents. They had a tendency to become detached in high winds and on one occasion pulled down the entire frontage of a building. This grasshopper dates from 1902 when a host of signs were recreated to celebrate the coronation of Edward VII.
And finally, the Sculpture in the City event has brought us this extraordinary work by Nancy Rubins. It’s called Crocodylius Philodendrus and you can view it at 1 Undershaft (EC3A 6HX).
See how many animals you can spot …
In there somewhere you will find crocodiles, hogs, deer, tortoises and a zebra.
The City has been home to thousands of pubs over the years. Some have continued to flourish for, literally, centuries whereas others have disappeared. I have been exploring to see if I can identify some remnants of those lost hostelries.
At 12 Old Street is the building that once housed The Old Rodney’s Head …
The building is for sale at the moment – offers in excess of £6.5 million – EC1V 9BE.
George Brydges Rodney, 1st Baron Rodney (1718-1792) was a famous Admiral best known for his victory over the French at the Battle of the Saintes in 1782 which ended the French threat to Jamaica. The building dates from 1876 and Rodney still gazes down on Old Street …
Sadly the Hat and Feathers has not reopened after a short time operating as a restaurant …
2 Clerkenwell Road EC1M 5PQ.
British History Online tells us that the building dates from 1860 and the facade – ‘gay without being crude’ – is decorated with classical statues, urns and richly ornate capitals and consoles.
I found this fascinating picture whilst researching …
Laying tramlines outside the pub in 1906 – source UK Pub History.
At the corner of Clerkenwell Road and St John Street is the building which once housed the Criterion Hotel (EC1V 4JS) …
The owners of the Cannon Brewery in St John Street built the Hotel here in 1874–6 as a replacement for the Red Lion and Punchbowl at No. 118 St John Street. This old tavern itself survived as a shop, but was eventually replaced in the 1920s by the present two storey extension to the Criterion, matching the style of the 1876 building. The Criterion closed in the 1960s, becoming a watch-materials shop and then, in the late 1990s, a restaurant.
Look at this lovely ornate brickwork …
I don’t know the significance of the two frogs, or maybe they are toads.
Further down St John Street at number 16 is the previous home of the Cross Keys pub with the pub’s emblem still visible at roof height (EC1M 4NT) …
According to British History online the former Cross Keys inn was rebuilt in 1886–7 for Lovell & Christmas, provision merchants. It has been closed as a pub since the Second World War and was occupied during the 1980s as the London headquarters and library of the Communist Party of Great Britain, before being refurbished as offices in the early 1999.
The Lost Pubs Project informs us that the Barley Mow was around as long ago as 1806 although it was rebuilt in the late 19th century. It is now a restaurant but the name lives on at the top of the building’s facade and the adjacent Barley Mow Passage (EC1A 9EJ) …
In their 1973 book City of London Pubs the authors Richards and Curl describe the White Hart at 7 Giltspur Street as …
The most lavish pub encountered for some time, with heavily upholstered seats and settees, low coffee-type tables, a Black Watch tartan carpet , soft music and subdued lighting.
Makes one want to visit, doesn’t it, but unfortunately it is now office accommodation …
The building dates from 1907 – EC1A 9DE
But the stag’s head remains over the entrance, rather spookily scrutinising visitors …
Incidentally, in 2014 the Darkest London blogger tracked down all the pubs in Richards and Curl’s book to see what had happened to them since it was published and you will find more information here.
This building at 28-30 Tudor Street bears further investigation (EC4Y 0BH) …
It was once The White Swan pub, known locally as The Mucky Duck. Swan motifs remain either side of the entrance …
The building dates from 1881 …
And the facade includes the coat of arms of the Clothworkers Guild – perhaps because they owned the freehold …
The excellent London Remembers website has the following to say about the building that was once the Sir Robert Peel pub at 178 Bishopsgate (EC2M 4NJ) …
This building has been through interesting times. It looks like it started off in the Georgian period and had a major refacing round about 1930 when the windows were replaced and the tiled front added. And then the ground floor front suffered the standard anonymising sometime 1960-1990, but they left the lovely tiles for us to enjoy.
The building is Art Deco in style – shame about the uPVC windows.
Nowadays always busy, even at weekends, it is amusing to note that a visitor in the early 17th century described the area as ‘airy and fashionable … but a little too much in the country’.
The ceramic panel depicting Robert Peel looks like it was based on his picture in the National Portrait Gallery.
As is often the case when researching, one story leads to another.
This building at 38 Charterhouse Street used to house the Charterhouse Bar which has now closed. However, I came across some more background about the premises which I found fascinating.
I really like the way it is squeezed into the triangular corner plot (EC1M 6JH) …
And the decoration – the City of London shield with its bearded supporter …
… and this pretty lady …
What I discovered was that it was once the ‘new additional showrooms’ for scalemakers Herbert & Son and their 250th anniversary commemoration contains this invitation from 1937 …
Their Lion Trademark was granted in 1888 and can still be seen above their old showrooms at 7 and 8 West Smithfield which date from 1889. It seems to typify the pride the organisation felt at the height of the British Empire …
Directly opposite Smithfield Market – what better location for a firm of scalemekers. And they’re still going strong based in Suffolk.
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