All Hallows by the Tower

All Hallows by the Tower is the oldest church in the City of London.

All Hallows means 'all saints' and the feast was instituted when martyrdoms increased during the persecutions of the late Roman Empire in order to ensure that all martyrs, known and unknown, were properly honoured. All Saints Day has been celebrated on November 1st since the 8th century.

1st-5th century: The Romans

In the crypt museum, still in its original place and at the ground level of Roman times, is a section of tessellated floor from a 2nd century dwelling. There are also other artefacts from the Roman occupation of this site. 

5th-11th century: The Saxons

In 675 AD Erkenwald was made Bishop of London and founded, on this site, a chapel of Barking Abbey, where his sister, Ethelberga, served as Abbess. Whilst the first church was made of wood, the undercroft and the great Saxon arch probably date from the 8th century and are part of the first stone church on this site. The Saxon arch is believed to be the oldest Saxon arch within the City of London.

11th-15th century: Medieval Times

All Hallows passed between various ownership from the turn of the first millennium to the 16th century. In 1539 it was exchanged to the patronage of the Archbishop of Canterbury, where it remains to this day.

12th-14th century: The Order of the Knights Templar

In 1119 the Order of the Knights Templar was founded. They would go on to become wealthy and influential throughout Europe, which brought them into conflict with the Catholic church. In 1307, Pope Clement instructed all Christian monarchs to arrest Templar Knights and seize their assets. King Edward II, who was unenthusiastic about this, was compelled to receive Inquisition Judges and, in 1311, trials were held at All Hallows.

The altar, in the Undercroft Chapel, is made of stones from Richard I's Castle Atlit, in Palestine.

'Exquisite Pain' by Damien Hirst

'Exquisite Pain'.

"I like the confusion you get between science and religion...

that's where belief lies and art as well."

- Damien Hirst

Inside the Priory Church of St Bartholomew-the-Great, in the south transept, you will find an anatomically correct statue of St Bartholomew. The statue has his skin draped over his right arm, with his right hand holding a scalpel. His left hand holds a pair of scissors.

It is a striking piece, eerily gleaming against the darkness of the interior of the church, which, when first seen, is very unsettling. However, the more I studied it the more captivated I became.

The Ratcliff Highway Murders and the Aftermath

The Ratcliff Highway Murders.

In two incidents, between December 7th and 19th, 1811, seven people from two families were murdered in what would become known as the Ratcliff Highway Murders. This was one of London's first major serial murder cases, which deeply shocked Victorian society. 

At midnight on Saturday December 7th, at 29 Ratcliff Highway (now The Highway), Mr Timothy Marr, a draper, sent his maid out for oysters before he and his apprentice, James Gowan, closed the drapery for the night. On her return the maid could not rouse them to gain entry and so summoned a watchman, who also failed to make entry.

29 Ratcliff Highway is now a block of flats.

A neighbour, John Murray, who finally managed to enter, found the draper and apprentice murdered in a blood-spattered room, downstairs, and Marr's wife Celia and their child Timothy dead, upstairs. The weapons, a chisel and a maul hammer, lay on the shop floor. Two pairs of footprints were found in the back of the shop.

The site of the second murders.

On Thursday December 19th, a nearly naked man escaped from a second-floor window of the King's Arms public house, at 81 New Gravel Lane (now Garnet Street), shouting, "They are murdering the people in the house!" The publican, John Williamson, his wife, Elizabeth, and their maid, Bridget Anna Harrington, were later found dead with fractured skulls and their throats cut. A crowbar was found beside John Williamson, but no knife or sharp implement was discovered.

The City of London Thoroughfare with Four Names

So which road am I on? Peter's Hill or Sermon Lane?

If you cross the London MillenniuM Footbridge, heading north, then you will find yourself on Peter's Hill. Continuing north, crossing Queen Victoria Street, you continue on Peter's Hill... or, do you?

You see Peter's Hill never came this far north, stopping at Knightrider Street, which itself has been shortened. Now, Peter's Hill joins with Sermon Lane, Knightrider Court and St Paul's Vista, all of which have signs stating these names. So, what is going on here?

Historically, Peter's Hill, Sermon Lane, and Knightrider Court were three separate, ancient streets. The former two were merged into one continuous route, primarily known as Peter's Hill, to create a wide approach to the London MillenniuM Footbridge, when it was developed in the late 20th century.

The City of London, however, chose not to eliminate the historic names entirely, so all three names were kept for different sections of the newly integrated route, leading to the current mess where maps, from different companies, label the same thoroughfare with different names. 

The sloped Sermon Lane with the stepped Peter's Hill.

Today, Sermon Lane is to the west of Peter's Hill and is now a sloped walkway, which separates it from Peter's Hill. This makes Sermon Lane more useful to those with mobility issues, pushchairs and such, as Peter's Hill (St Paul's Vista) has many granite steps.

Walking with Family: Getting into the Christmas Spirit

Blue Ball Yard.

Friday December 12, 2025.

Erin arrived home from school, at which point Emma left to meet Keilyn from school. I arrived home shortly after and, once we were ready, waited for my mum, before booking a taxi to Watford underground station, where Emma and Keilyn were awaiting our arrival.

We boarded our train and settled into our seats for the trip to Finchley Road. Here we changed to a Jubilee line train and continued our journey to Green Park. We exited the station via the Green Park entrance and began our walk at Piccadilly and the magnificent Ritz Hotel. 

Hancocks on St James's Street.

Instead of following the crowds we turned down St James's Street and admired the various Christmas trees and window displays that the businesses and shops displayed. Jermyn Street was the first street with lights stretched across it, that we saw. We passed Hancocks Goldsmiths, before we entered Blue Ball Yard, where the American Bar was festooned with Christmas decorations.

A Christmas tree in London's smallest square.

We then crossed the road and entered Pickering Place, London' smallest square, where a Christmas tree took up much of the place. We left Pickering Place and continued down St James's Street and turned onto Pall Mall until we reached Waterloo Place, with its blue star-topped Christmas tree. Here, more 'Angel' Christmas lights stretched across the road.

The Norwegian spruce in Trafalgar Square.

We then continued along Pall Mall onto Pall Mall East, which brought us to Trafalgar Square and the giant Norwegian spruce at its centre. A Christmas market, filled with stalls selling all sorts of trinkets, gifts and food occupied the area outside the steps to The National Gallery, while a choir sang carols from in front of the Trafalgar Square Christmas tree.

St Martin's Lane.

On leaving Trafalgar Square we headed up Charing Cross Road and onto St Martin's Lane, with its Theatreland Christmas lights. 

Goodwin's Court cottages.

As we approached New Row, my mum, Keilyn and I decided to walk through Goodwin's Court, while Emma and Erin continued along New Row. With its gas-fuelled lamps and cottages that have been here since the 17th century, this thoroughfare is a time capsule of old London. We weren't the only ones using the street, as a small group of people had also chosen this route, but, in their case, for its association with Harry Potter.

Covent Garden Christmas tree.

We exited Goodwin's Court, onto Bedfordbury, and joined New Row, where we headed east along King Street, where we met up with Emma and Erin by the Covent Garden Christmas tree. Emma and Erin had witnessed the 'snow' falling, which occurs every hour, but were less than impressed with it. It was a 'bubble-machine', that lasted less than a minute. 

Royal Opera House Arcade.

Parkland Walk

Crouch End station.

Tucked away in the urban landscape of North London lies one of the city's most enchanting secrets: the Parkland Walk. More than just a path, this stretch of reclaimed railway line is a unique ribbon of wilderness, a haven for nature lovers, history buffs, and anyone seeking a tranquil escape from the city hustle.

So, if you’ve ever wanted to walk through a genuine urban jungle where the past meets the present, this is the perfect place.

Mother Nature reclaiming the railway infrastructure.

The history of the Parkland Walk is as fascinating as its present-day beauty. It follows the disused track of the former Great Northern Railway line that once connected Finsbury Park to Alexandra Palace. Opened in 1873, the line was meant to be a transport artery, but plans to integrate it into the London Underground (as part of the Northern Line extension) were eventually abandoned.

Passenger services ceased in the 1950s, and the final service ran in 1970. The tracks were pulled up soon after, and Mother Nature began her incredible reclamation project. Recognising its ecological value, the area was protected and, in 1990, was officially declared London's longest linear Local Nature Reserve.

Walking here, you are literally strolling on the remnants of Victorian ambition, where steam trains once chugged and now, only the rustling of leaves and the song of birds remain.

Walking alone: Farringdon to Tower Hill... and beyond

St George-in-the-East church.

Monday December 8, 2025.

Today was my last day of annual leave, for 2025, and I wasn't going to waste it. So, off to London I headed.

Farringdon station.

A short walk to Watford underground station saw me catch a Baker Street-bound train, which I took to Finchley Road, where I waited 3-minutes for an Aldgate-bound train. Soon I was alighting at Farringdon station, ready for a walk.

Holborn viaduct.

I headed down Farringdon Road and onto Farringdon Street, passing below the Holborn Viaduct, crossed Fleet Street, and joined New Bridge Street, before heading west along Tudor Street. With lots of building work going on I took a slight detour up Bouverie Street and entered Magpie Alley. 

Magpie Alley tiles.

The tiled walls of Magpie Alley, which I had never seen, tell the history of Fleet Street's printing evolution from around 1500. Suitably filled with new knowledge I made my way out of Magpie Alley, avoiding the scaffolding and myriad trucks and lorries that filled the streets, and made my way down Whitefriars Street until I reached Tudor Street, again. This time I headed east and rejoined New Bridge Street, which I followed north until I turned east along Ludgate Hill.

How many street names in one photo?

Ludgate Hill brought me to St Paul's Churchyard and one of London's unique thoroughfares... Peter's Hill. Now, Peter's Hill has, over the centuries, moved as the area has gone through rebuilding. Now, it shares its route with Sermon Lane and Knightrider Court, which has moved from its original position to the east of Sermon Lane, to the west of it. And, depending on which online map you use, this thoroughfare is listed under different names. Confusing.

The St Lawrence Jewry drinking fountain.

Suitably confused I continued east onto Cannon Street, passing the St Lawrence Jewry drinking fountain, before turning up Queen Victoria Street, just so that I could walk through the Bloomberg Arcade and see 'Forgotten Stream' by Cristina Iglesias. 

The oldest church in the City of London.

I then rejoined Cannon Street until I reached Eastcheap. Following my feet I continued along Eastcheap until I reached Byward Street and All Hallows by the Tower. Now, All Hallows by the Tower is the oldest church in the City of London and I have walked by it on countless occasions, but never ventured inside. So, I remedied this error, on my part, and entered this ancient building.

As I entered a couple were just leaving, which, to my surprise, left me alone in the church, apart from a few volunteers who were replacing leaflets and checking the aisles.

The Lady chapel.

I set about exploring and was taken in awe with how incredible the interior was. My footsteps echoed off the flagstone flooring as I made my way through the building taking in the chapels and artefacts on display. Making my way through the door, below the organ, I noticed the Saxon arch and a sign 

indicating the directions to the Undercroft Museum, which I followed. 

The Undercroft chapel.

I carefully made my way below the church and was soon at the Roman street level of Londinium, with a tessellated floor still in place. Slowly I explored the entire space with its Roman, Saxon, Norman and countless other eras of artefacts all on display. More chapels were visited, before the route brought me back up into the church. Having explored as much as I could I headed outside to find that it had rained while I had been inside.

The Great Fire of 1666: What was lost and what survived?

This plaque marks the spot from where the fire began.

Everyone knows the story of the Great Fire of 1666, from where it began to where it was extinguished. Children even sing a nursery rhyme about it.

History records the devastation, loss of life and the rebuilding, but many notable historic places survived the devastation and because of this are often overlooked.

The Golden Boy of Pye Corner.

Brief History.

The fire started on Sunday September 2, 1666 and burned for four days.

The Great Fire of 1666, began at the shop of Thomas Farriner, in Pudding Lane, and was finally brought under control in the west, at Pie Corner (now the junction of Cock Lane and Giltspur Street), near Smithfield.

A small gilded statue of a boy, called the 'Golden Boy of Pye Corner', marks the spot where the fire reached.

Although the fire was said to be extinguished some isolated fires continued to break out.

The fire's advance was finally stopped for two main reasons: 

1. The strong easterly wind, which had driven the fire, finally subsided.
2. King Charles II had ordered the widespread use of gunpowder to blow up rows of houses, creating wide, empty gaps that the flames could not jump. These firebreaks, combined with the wind dying down, proved the ultimate stopping factor at places like Pie Corner.

How many people died?

The official number of people recorded to have died in the Great Fire of 1666 is only six to eight named people. However, the actual death toll is believed to have been much higher, potentially in the hundreds or even thousands. 

The Bills of Mortality at the time largely failed to account for the deaths of the poor, middle-class citizens, or the homeless, as a substantial portion of the population was displaced and not properly documented.

It is important to remember that the fire was a firestorm, with temperatures reaching 1,700°C, which is enough to completely cremate bodies, leaving no recognisable remains to be counted.

Plus, the official count only includes direct deaths from the fire itself. Many more people likely died in the cold winter months that followed due to disease, exposure and starvation in the makeshift camps set up outside the city walls.

The scale of destruction within the City of London.

What was lost?

Over 13,000 homes were either destroyed by the fire, or pulled down or blown up to create firebreaks.

Old St Paul's Cathedral was completely gutted and later demolished to make way for Sir Christopher Wren's masterpiece.

The Royal Exchange, on Threadneedle Street, was completely destroyed.

Some 87 medieval churches were lost in the Great Fire.

Tanner Street Drinking Fountain, Bermondsey

In the corner of Tanner Street Park, behind low iron railings, there is a drinking fountain with a remarkable history. This is the Tanner Street Drinking Fountain.

This drinking fountain began its life as a turret at the top of tower of St Olaf's Church, Tooley Street.

Henry Flitcroft designed the church, which was constructed with Portland stone, in 1737. By the early 20th century the church had fallen into disrepair and so, in 1918, permission was granted to demolish part of the church. However, a stipulation was attached:

"...that provision should be made for the preservation of the tower thereof and for the maintenance of a portion of the site of the old church and of the old churchyard as a public open space and for the perpetuation of the name of St Olave in connection with such site."

Subsequently, the riverside area around Hay's Wharf was being developed and, as such, a request was submitted to demolish the tower.

A fierce Parliamentary debate ensued. Eventually permission was granted to demolish the tower, on the condition that Bermondsey Borough Council use some of the proceeds from the sale of the church land, in Tooley Street, to establish a recreation ground in nearby Tanner Street. Also, as an acknowledgement of the original church, the turret/cupola should be retained as a drinking fountain.

Eventually the drinking fountain fell into disrepair and, during the upgrading of Tanner Street Park, was restored in 2018, by Southwark Council.

'The Golden Boy of Pye Corner'

"This boy is

in Memory Put up

for the late FIRE of

LONDON

Occasion'd by the

Sin of Gluttony

1666."

At the corner of Cock Lane and Giltspur Street you will find this unassuming golden statue. Once you have seen and understood the meaning of the statue, you will never look at it the same way again.

Back in 1666 it was close to this spot, on Pye Corner, that the Great Fire of 1666 was finally extinguished.

A newspaper cutting.

At some point, possibly in the Victorian era, a fig leaf was added to the statue, due to complaints from passersby. This newspaper cutting tells some of the story.

But why a golden statue of a chubby boy?

An inscription, below the statue, reads as follows:

The boy at Pye Corner was

erected to commemorate 

the staying of the Great

Fire which, beginning at

Pudding Lane, was ascribed

to the sin of Gluttony

when not attributed to

the Papists, as on the

Monument. And the boy was

made prodigiously fat to

enforce the moral. He was

originally built into the

front of a public house

called 'The Fortune of War',

which used to occupy

this site and was pulled

down in 1910.

'The Fortune of War' was

the Chief House of Call, 

north of the river, for

Resurrectionists in body

snatching days. Years ago.

the landlord used to show

the room where, on benches

round the walls, the bodies

were placed, labelled

with the snatchers'

names, waiting till the

surgeons at Saint

Bartholomew's could run

round and appraise them.

So, this statue represents God punishing the sin of gluttony, as the fire started at Pudding Lane and ended at Pie Corner. 

London's Gas-fuelled Lamps

A guest post by 

Keilyn J. A. Morrissey.

A gas-fuelled lamp in Green Park.

In 1792, William Murdoch became the first man to put the idea of producing gas lighting from coal into practical use, when he installed gas lighting at the company's offices as well as lighting his home by this method.

It would be another fifteen years before the first recorded public street lighting, powered by gas, was demonstrated. This was in Pall Mall, London, on January 28, 1807. In June of that year, a line of gas street lights was illuminated by Frederick Albert Winsor, a German inventor, to celebrate the birthday of King George III. Each one was fed with gas pipes made from the up-cycled barrels of obsolete muskets.

In 1812, Parliament granted a charter to the London and Westminster Gas Light and Coke Company, the world's first gas company. Less than two years later, on December 31, 1813, Westminster Bridge was lit by gas-fuelled street lamps. 

The cost of gaslight was up to 75% lower than oil lamps or candles, which accelerated its development and deployment. This cost-effectiveness, combined with its convenience and brighter illumination, drove the rapid adoption of gas lighting in public spaces and eventually in homes, contributing to advancements during the Industrial Revolution. 

By 1859, gas lighting was to be found all over Britain and close to a thousand gasworks had sprung up to meet the demand for the new fuel. Indoors, the brighter light that gas provided enabled people to read more easily and for longer. In turn, this helped to stimulate literacy and learning.

There are approximately 1,300 gas-fuelled lamps left in London, with roughly 270 of these found in Westminster. These lamps are lit and maintained by a small team of professional 'lamplighters' employed by companies such as British Gas, or through specialised firms such as William Sugg & Co.. 

The lamps require regular maintenance, with each lamp being serviced every fortnight. Their mechanisms need to be wound every fortnight and adjusted for the seasons. This is carried out by a small team of dedicated professionals, often with a background in gas engineering, who are responsible for the upkeep of the lamps. This includes checking and replacing mantles and polishing the glass on every lamp.

While some lamps still use manual winding and require a 'lamplighter' to be present, many modern gas lamps use clockwork mechanisms. Some lamps feature a permanent pilot light that automatically boosts at night.

London's oldest surviving gas lamps are found on Birdcage Walk. 

Ragged School, Southwark

The Mint & Gospel Lighthouse Mission was created in 1888, in a small building on what is now called Ayres Street. It then moved to premises on Clenham Street. However, this building was in such a poor state that The Ragged School Union and Shaftesbury Society provided them with a new building on Union Street.

This building was opened in 1907 and was set up as a charity to help disadvantaged children.

In 1840, the London City Mission used the term 'ragged' to describe the 570 children who used the five schools that they had established. The term 'ragged' referred to children who often wore ragged or worn-out clothing, no shoes or lacked the clothing to attend any other school.

In 1844, the London Ragged School Union was formed with over 20 ragged schools across the city.

'MillenniuM Measure' by Joanna A. Migdal

The Scientific Instruments Makers MillenniuM Measure.

The MillenniuM Measure is the gift of the Court & Livery of the Worshipful Company of Scientific Instrument Makers of the City of London, in commemoration of the MillenniuM.

It comprises a 3-sided, 2-metre (2m = 2000mm) rule depicting two thousand years of history of the City, the Church and the craft of Scientific Instrument making.

Royal Exchange, City of London

This remarkable building, surrounded by the Bank of England, Mansion House and the Stock Exchange, was founded as 'a comely bourse for merchants to assemble upon' by the wealthy London mercer Sir Thomas Gresham.

The City of London Corporation and the Worshipful Company of Mercer provided the land, both of whom still jointly own the freehold.

Richard Clough, who designed the building, oversaw the import of various materials from Antwerp, such as: glass, wood, slate and stone, which he paid for out of his own pocket.

So impressed was Queen Elizabeth I by Gresham's achievement that, on January 23, 1571, she visited it and declared, "It must be called the Royal Exchange."

In addition to its trading floor and offices, the original building also enjoyed an upper floor of over one hundred popular and lively small shops, modelled after the New Exchange in Antwerp.

After the Great Fire of 1666 the Royal Exchange was twice rebuilt. In 1667, King Charles II laid the foundation stone for a building designed by Edward Jerman. This building, opened in 1669, had a tall wooden tower built over the south entrance. Unfortunately, this fell into disrepair and, 1821, was replaced with a stone tower, designed by George Smith. On January 10, 1838, this building was also destroyed by fire. The blaze was so bright that it could be seen from Windsor, some 24 miles (39 km) away.

Thames Tunnel, Rotherhithe to Wapping

The plaque at Rotherhithe station.

London is a city layered with history, and some of the most fascinating stories lie beneath its surface. One such story belongs to the Thames Tunnel, an engineering marvel that was the first tunnel ever successfully built beneath a navigable river and a project so ambitious it took nearly two decades to complete.

Today, you might speed through it on the London Overground, barely giving a second thought to the brick arches passing by your window. But, in the 19th century, this passageway connecting Rotherhithe and Wapping was the scene of drama, innovation, and, for a short time, one of the city's most popular tourist attractions.

By the early 1800s, London's docks were booming, but the River Thames created a huge bottleneck. Building a new bridge downstream of London Bridge would have blocked the passage of tall-masted sailing ships. The only solution was to go under the river.

Several attempts to tunnel beneath the Thames had failed disastrously. The soft, treacherous ground beneath the riverbed made traditional mining techniques impossible. Enter the brilliant French-born engineer, Marc Isambard Brunel.

Brunel’s genius lay in his invention of the tunnelling shield. The idea, allegedly inspired by watching a shipworm bore through wood, was a revolutionary concept in civil engineering.

Keilyn at the bottom of the tunnel shaft. Notice the soot mark, from steam trains, still on the wall.

Patented in 1818, the shield was essentially a massive, rectangular, cast-iron frame divided into 36 compartments. Miners would work inside these individual cells, digging away a small section of earth in front of them while the surrounding frame held the unstable ground in place. Once a small segment was dug, the shield would be moved forward, and bricklayers would immediately line the new section of the tunnel behind it. This method was the key to conquering the soft, wet subsoil.

Work began in 1825, but the project was far from smooth sailing. It was a harrowing 18-year ordeal, plagued by financial crises, poor air quality, and most terrifyingly, repeated floods as the river burst through the thin crust of ground above.

Tower Hill Scaffold Site

On the western edge of Trinity Square Gardens, you will find a small square with a horrific history. This was almost the exact site of the Tower Hill Scaffold, where more than 125 people were put to death.

Executions took place at this site from around the 1380s through to 1780, when executions were moved to Tyburn.

Although Simon Sudbury, Archbishop of Canterbury and Sir Robert Hales are listed as having been executed here, in 1381, the official records state that Sir Simon de Burley, K.G., was the first person executed here, in 1388.

The executions were highly ceremonial, with the ceremony often beginning the night before. Often prisoners would be taken by horse and cart, through the streets, being fed ale or mead, on their way to the scaffold. People would line the streets, often hurling vegetables, sometimes stones, at the poor wretch who was about to die.

Once at the scaffold site, hundreds, sometimes thousands, of people would gather with their families, to witness the execution.

All of these were public executions, with various methods being employed to dispatch the condemned.

London's Postboxes

A replica 'Penfold' type postbox, beside Tower Bridge.

Normally overlooked because of how common they are on the streets of the United Kingdom, the humble postbox can tell you a lot about an area. Each postbox also has a Royal cypher, which helps denote its age. Although, occasionally, postboxes are created without a cypher. These are called 'anonymous' postboxes.

So, let us look at the evolution of the British Postbox.

Like so many other iconic things the Postbox was created in the Victorian era, with the first postbox being installed on Guernsey, in the Channel Islands, in 1852.

In 1853, the first postbox, on the mainland, was installed in Carlisle.

London's first postboxes were installed in 1855.

During the 19th century there was no standard to postboxes, with those in the east and west being markedly different from those in the north and Ireland. The aperture, for the letter, was often vertical, rather than the now standard horizontal, and they were all of different shapes and sizes. One is believed to have been 2.4 metres (7.8 feet), tall. The only constant was that they were made off cast-iron.

It wasn't until 1857 that the Post Office launched a competition to standardise the shape and size of the postbox. Unbelievably, one of the original designs was designed with no aperture for the letters. This was remedied and the 'London Ornate Box' came into use, between 1857-1859. It was green with gold trim and had an enamel compass on its top. In fact, all postboxes were green, si that they blended with the landscape. It wasn't until 1884 that they would be painted the now familiar red.

A 'Wall Box' postbox.

In 1857 the 'Wall Box' was introduced as an economy measure, where space was a premium. These were usually in rural areas.

The 'First National Standard' postbox was unveiled in 1859. It was cylindrical, with a horizontal aperture beneath a hexagonal hood and was made from cast-iron.

A replica 'Penfold' type postbox, outside the General Post Office building.

The architect John Wornham Penfold designed a hexagonal model, in 1866, which would adopt his name and become known as the 'Penfold' postbox. These were cast-iron and stayed in use from 1866 till 1879. There were thirteen variations of this postbox, that were produced. Many of these postboxes, that you see today, are replicas of the originals and were introduced to historic places, such as Tower Bridge.

A Victorian 'anonymous' postbox, as it has no cypher.

In 1879, the 'Victorian Type A' and its smaller 'Victorian Type B' were introduced. It is this cylindrical design, with its circular convex top, that is still the most common style of postbox.

In 1896, the first 'Lamp Box' was installed, on an experimental basis. Much like the 'Wall Box', these were used where pavements were small, such as in rural areas.

In 1899, the first 'Type C' oval-shaped postboxes were introduced in London. These large, double-aperture pillar boxes were designed to increase capacity and pre-sort mail into 'London' and 'Country' destinations.

A postbox with a King Edward VII cypher.

In 1930, some 'Victorian Type B' postboxes were painted blue, to signify the 'Air Mail' service being offered. An 'Air Mail' sign was affixed to the top and the door showed both collection times and air mail charges.