I often build up a bank of images that don’t fit any particular theme but that I rather like. I feel it’s a shame not to share them so that’s the purpose of today’s blog. Apologies if you have seen some of these already on Instagram.
My friend recently had a surgical procedure at University College Hospital and was given a room to herself in order to recover. That room was on the 14th floor and this was the view …
One of the best London panoramas I have ever seen.
The nursing care was great too.
Funnily enough I had a great view when I was resident in St Thomas’ Hospital for few days last year …
I should have charged tourists an admission fee.
I can occasionally get what I think are good pictures without wandering too far.
An interesting sunset …
The moon moving slowly past the Shard …
Tower 52 framed by newer buildings turned pink by the sunset light …
The continual colour changes fascinate me …
The eerie glow of the Barbican Conservatory in the early evening …
Incidentally, here we also get a good view of flypasts heading for Buckingham Palace. This one was for the King’s Birthday on 15th June …
Just around the corner, a red glow slices through an office block on Fore Street …
Whilst on the theme of sunsets and moons, please excuse a couple of holiday snaps from Dubrovnik …
Lovely place, highly recommended.
Some images from a recent visit to the Houses of Parliament starting with Westminster Hall and its 14th century hammerbeam roof ..
Various plaques indicate where the bodies of eminent people lay in State before their funeral …
This one prompted me to learn more about the Earl of Strafford who was subsequently beheaded on Tower Hill in 1641 …
His trial along with a list of key attendees …
Guy Fawkes was also tried here but I suppose it’s not surprising that no plaque commemorates the event considering what he had set out to do!
Guy and his fellow conspirators …
Fawkes’s signature before and after he was tortured on the rack has a gruesome fascination …
View from the House of Commons Terrace …
I recently had a very enjoyable lunch at Larry’s Restaurant at the National Portrait Gallery. It has a wacky lobster theme throughout …
Nice cocktails too.
On one of my walks I came across the rather splendid Law Society building on Chancery Lane …
I liked the ‘lions’. They are formally known in heraldry as Lions Sejant …
The sculptor, Alfred Stevens, always referred to them as his cats since, apparently, he used his neighbour’s pet animal as a model for the pose.
I do wander around outside the City occasionally and find delightful surprises such as this memorial dispensary in Cambridge Avenue, Kilburn …
Horses and donkeys were the most commonly used animals in wartime – mainly for transport and haulage, but camels, elephants, pigeons, bullocks, dogs and goats were all pressed into service. Many suffered from exposure, lack of food and disease, dying alongside their human companions …
In 1931 a competition was held for the design of a memorial for the main facade of the building. Frederick Brook Hitch of Hertford was the winner and his wonderful bronze plaque is above the main door …
Read all about the pigeon that was awarded the Croix de Guerre in my blog of January 2021.
I love the sight of dozing ducks …
The Heritage Gallery at the Guildhall Art Gallery is hosting three small exhibitions at the moment. I have already written about two of them and you can find them here: one about Robert Hooke and another about Blackfriars Bridge.
The third is about a gentleman called Charles Pearson – a name I didn’t recognise but should have.
He was a great campaigner who supported universal suffrage, electoral reform and opposed capital punishment. He also had a vision for an underground railway, describing a ‘Spacious Railway station in Farringdon Street by which means … the overcrowding of the streets by carriages and foot-passengers van be diminished’.
The exhibition contains a street plan along with a booklet setting out his case using speeches he gave on the subject …
There is also a link between Pearson and The Monument.
An inscription on the north side originally held Catholics responsible for the Great Fire: The Latin words Sed Furor Papisticus Qui Tamdiu Patravit Nondum Restingvitur translates as ‘but Popish frenzy, which wrought such horrors, is not yet quenched’. Pearson campaigned to have the words removed and you can see where they once existed at the base of the panel before being scored out …
The deletion in close up …
Another great reason to visit the Guildhall Art Gallery is that their prestigious bookshop is now stocking my book …
Over 100 pages in full colour with a fold-out map at the back. A bargain stocking filler for only £10!
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One of the great joys of London is that you can walk over the same area again and again and still find something new or, alternatively, more detail about a place you knew already.
Last week I decided to start by visiting the pretty, quiet space in Banner Street known as Quaker Gardens (EC1Y 8QQ). All the other locations I write about today are about five minutes walk away from there …
There are three venerable London Plane trees providing shade …
This land, purchased in 1661 for a burial ground, was the earliest freehold property of the Quakers (also known as The Society of Friends) in London. Over a thousand victims of the Great Plague were buried here in 1665.
Here it is on John Rocque’s map of 1746 …
The Burial Acts of the 1850s forced the closure of all central London burial grounds. Having expanded considerably, by the time that the Bunhill site was closed in 1855 there were nearly 12,000 recorded burials.
I found these burial records from 1787 online …
Quaker burials are very simple and Quakers have not traditionally placed headstones on burial sites, being thought too showy or worldly. There is, however, a plain memorial to George Fox, Quakerism’s founder, who was buried here in 1691 …
There is also a stone plaque recording the history of the site and buildings …
The wording is not very clear now but I have found an earlier image …
Persecution of Quakers was common in 17th century England, one of the most serious punishments being transportation. Among the ‘martyr Friends’ buried here are included twenty-seven who died of plague awaiting transportation on the ship ominously named The Black Eagle. The war with the Dutch, along with the plague, made it difficult to find a ship’s master willing to brave the seas but in May 1665 the Sheriffs of London found someone willing to do so. The sea captain, called Fudge, boasted that he would happily transport even his nearest relations. About 40 men and women were bundled aboard his ship which was lying at Greenwich. Then Fudge was arrested for debt, with soldiers sent from the Tower to guard the human cargo as most of the crew had deserted. As well as the plague deaths, many more prisoners had perished before the ship eventually sailed.
The burial ground lay unused until 1880 when the Metropolitan Board of Works took part of the site for road widening and the compensation money paid for the building of a Memorial Hall, which included a coffee tavern and lodging rooms …
The Hall was destroyed by bombs in 1944. A small surviving fragment, known as the cottage, which had been the manager’s house, was restored to serve as a small meeting house (as it still does to this day) …
An old plaque dated 1793 …
‘This wall and Seven Houses on the grounds on the north side are the Property of the Society of Friends 1793’.
I haven’t been able to find out more about the very sadly missed Marna Shapiro …
I like the kisses.
A very appropriate place for quiet contemplation …
For a brief history of the Quakers I recommend this site – Quakers around Shoreditch. For a more detailed history, I have enjoyed reading Portrait in Grey by John Punshon (September 2006, Quaker Books). It’s where I found the story of the wonderfully named Captain Fudge and the Black Eagle.
Leave the garden by the Chequer Street entrance, turn left, and you will encounter something unusual – wooden block road paving …
Designed to be durable, but far less noisy than cobbles, experiments with wood block paving started in 1873 and initially proved successful. Eventually replaced by tar from the 1920s onwards, this section is one of few remaining in London. You can just make out some tree growth rings …
I must have walked past this typical industrial building in Banner Street dozens of times …
Last week I paused at the rather imposing entrance …
… and looked up …
A classical broken pediment, the date 1911 and the company name Chater Lea Ltd. This was a British bicycle, car and motorcycle maker and the Banner Street premises were purpose built for them in 1911. Eventually needing to expand production, they moved to Letchworth, Hertfordshire in 1928.
The company was founded by William Chater Lea in 1890 to make bicycle frames and components. It made cars between 1907 and 1922 and motorcycles from 1903 to 1935. William died in 1927 and the business was taken over by his sons John and Bernard …
You can read more about the company history here and it looks like they are currently working on a major relaunch. Here’s their website which also contains some great historical background and images.
It is nice to see that this extraordinary piece of work has found a place on Roscoe Street where everyone can see it. It needs to be viewed from a distance for maximum effect …
Nearby on Roscoe Street, the mysterious headless man – also created at the Party …
Tyger Tyger on Baird Street …
A Chequer Street EC1 celebration …
… and a mosaic on the same building …
Pretty door and heart combined at 65 Banner Street …
In a nearby car park …
I love the honey coloured bricks of the Peabody Estate …
In the foreground, another piece left over from the Party …
And finally, consider this tree at the west end of Chequer Street …
My scientist friend Emma reliably informs me that it’s an Indian Bean Tree, Catalpa Bignonioides …
The view from Whitecross Street …
These trees are described online as ‘principally grown for their broad headed attractive foliage, exquisite bell shaped summer flowers and in autumn they develop bean-like hanging fruit which persist through winter’.
Here’s an example of the fruit on the Chequer Street tree …
In my view, this tree is evidence of the considerable thought that went into the planning of the Peabody Estate environment as well as the buildings themselves.
Incidentally, the estate also boasts a man-eating Agavi plant …
Mr Peabody features strongly in my book Courage, Crime and Charity in the City of London which you can buy using the link on this site – only £10. Or just pop in to the Daunt Bookshop in Cheapside or Marylebone High Street.
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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.
