Category Archives: Free to see in London

The first red telephone boxes

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K2 wooden prototype

Next time you drop past the Royal Academy for an exhibition (or perhaps while you are waiting in vain for Hockney tickets) spare more than a cursory glance at the two red telephone boxes in the entranceway, for these are the original red telephone boxes. The wooden box on the western side (shown above and right) is actually Sir Giles Gilbert Scott’s 1924 winning entry in a competition held by the General Post Office to design a new phone box. The one on the eastern side (seen below) is one of the first cast iron boxes to be created from this design. This style became known as K2 – Kiosk No. 2 (K1 was concrete and originally painted cream, although they have often been re-painted red since).

K2 cast iron first run original

Apparently Scott – an architect perhaps best known as the designer of the equally iconic Battersea Power Station – originally envisioned that his design would be silver and made from steel, but the bright red colour was thought to be most visible, particularly in emergencies. And the rest is history…Scott was also asked to design a cheaper version for the rest of the country, which became the K3. Like many of the old red telephone kiosks, the ones outside the Royal Academy are now listed buildings – and both are still fully operational today. So yes, you can still drop by and put in a call from the first red telephone box…

London Stone

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London Stone - note the delightful rubbish accumulating in the grille

Having been meaning to photograph London Stone for the Londonphile for a little while, you can imagine my surprise when I visited recently only to discover a very official poster announcing plans to relocate it. (Obviously I missed Londonist’s article about this last year!). Due to the imminent redevelopment of the 111 Cannon Street site, it is now proposed that London Stone be relocated from where it has resided since 1557, to the front of the Walbrook Building, at 97-101 Cannon Street.

So just what is this London Stone? In short, it is a rather unprepossessing 53cm wide, 43 cm high, 30cm deep (i.e. not really all that big) slab of oolitic limestone. Despite its name, as this particular limestone does not naturally occur in London it clearly originally hailed from elsewhere. London Stone has had numerous myths attached to it over the centuries, and has variously been held to be the remains of Brutus’ temple, the stone which held King Arthur’s sword, a Druid’s altarpiece or a Roman milestone. It is as the remains of Brutus’ temple that the stone acquired its alleged link to the well-being of London: it is said that ‘so long as the stone of Brutus is safe, so long shall London flourish’. The Victorian Society described the stone in their submission to the planning committee as ‘one of the most symbolically important objects in London’.

The first records of the stone place it on the south side of Cannon Street (opposite number 111). It was larger then and eventually became something of an impediment to traffic (apparently traffic was already proving problematic back in 1742!), so was moved to the northern side by St Swithin’s church and later placed into the south wall of the church. Although St Swithin’s was destroyed during the Blitz, the stone survived intact – luckily for London – and has remained outside 111 Cannon Street since, currently in front of a rather grim 1960s office block. Unsurprisingly, all of the objections to the proposal (which can be viewed online – see the links below) centre around the significance of this site to London Stone, which renders any relocation inappropriate.

Having said that, English Heritage do concede in their submission that the stone’s current setting and presentation could do better. On my own visit I found the stone hard to view through both the grille and the glass, and mostly ignored by passers-by; filled with litter, it has the appearance of little more than a random piece of neglected street furniture. The light that normally illuminates the stone somewhat appeared to be out. The low setting of the stone however – while not an aid to viewing – is actually in keeping with its originally low position in the street, and most submissions felt this should also be retained.

Currently the application to relocate the stone is still ‘pending consideration’. Hopefully this story will have a happy ending, with the stone able to remain in situ as part of the new building at 111 Cannon Street, and ideally in a way that also makes it easier to view, more celebrated and more cared for than it currently appears. Clearly, any developers would do well to keep in mind the stone’s link to the city’s safety when considering any plans…

You can view the planning submissions online at:

http://www.planning.cityoflondon.gov.uk:90/WAM/findCaseFile.do?councilName=Corporation+of+London&appNumber=11/00664/LBC

Drake’s steps

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One of the things that never ceases to amaze me about London is the amount of significant historical sights that go completely uncelebrated. Call it an abundance of historical detritus if you like. An excellent example of this is Drake’s steps. Everyone knows the concept of a (gentle)man laying down his coat for a lady to walk across a puddle unhampered. Well this very concept originated at Drake’s steps – now just an uncommemorated set of steps leading to the Thames at Deptford.

Drake’s galleon, The Golden Hinde (a reconstruction of which you can now visit near London Bridge), was moored at Deptford when he received his knighthood in 1581. When Queen Elizabeth I visited to bestow the honour onboard, Sir Walter Raleigh placed his coat down at the top of these stairs to keep her feet dry, pretty much marking himself out for all time as the archetypal gentleman.

A small plaque commemorating the victualling yards in the area, well after Drake’s time, and another to Drake’s endeavours at sea is all that marks out this place. Sometimes the gates are left open – on my last visit they were held together with a flimsy piece of rope. You can find this uncelebrated corner of London’s history along the Thames in Deptford, just above Conroy’s Wharf. It’s nowhere near a tube – the closest would be Surrey Quays, a good twenty-minute walk – but you can take the 199 bus from Canada Water station to the third stop on Grove Street.