This feature first appeared in 2023 on Londonist: Time Machine, our much-praised history newsletter. To be the first to read new history features like this, sign up for free here.
For me, the most rewarding way to explore London’s history is to walk it. Archives and books are indispensable for detail and context, but the streets themselves are the best primer. To that end, I’ve put together this 2.6km (1.6 mile) walk around the Square Mile, jam-packed with historical nuggets.
The walk passes through a notional ‘ten ages’ in the capital’s history, visiting each in chronological order. It’s not the easiest itinerary to put together, I have to admit. The City has very few Anglo-Saxon remains, and is surprisingly light on Tudor survivals.
The route is wheelchair/buggy friendly. Just one diversion is needed at the very beginning, which I’ve included in the directional notes (and shown in red on the map).
Enjoy the walk, and please do let me know how you got on!
Begin the tour at the north-east corner of London Bridge, looking towards the Thames…
1. Prehistoric London
Gaze down at the river and imagine that you’re 2,000 years in the past. It isn’t easy to do. Nothing you see existed back then. Nothing except the river, and even that would have been unrecognisable. Two millennia ago, the Thames would have been twice as wide, much shallower, and peppered with islands and channels over on the Southwark side.
Here or there, you might have spied a small encampment, ceremonial site or jetty, but nothing that would last. The one survivor is perhaps the name of the river itself. The Romans called it Tamesis, but this is thought to be a Latinisation of an earlier Celtic word, perhaps meaning ‘dark river’. Celtic place names are rare in London. Penge, Brent and London itself are three other examples.
Even the wildlife would be different. Those feral pigeons wouldn’t be perching there. No Canada geese or (now abundant) Egyptian geese either. Instead, you might have seen deer, pigs or cattle on the water’s edge, and perhaps the occasional wolf.
Head down the modern spiral steps to the riverside. Walk a few paces east (towards Tower Bridge) and take the first turning on the left. You should see the church of St Magnus Martyr looming ahead. Work your way around its perimeter to find the church’s courtyard and entrance way. (If you can’t use steps, simply head north and loop down Monument Street and Fish Street Hill to arrive at the church.)
2. Roman London
London proper began with the Romans. Their city of Londinium was founded as a defensive enclosure around the year 43, and quickly grew into a thriving port. It also began right here. You’re standing on the spot where the Romans built their first permanent bridge. It would have been of enormous strategic value, speeding up communications between the Kentish ports and more northerly towns. And it would also have served as a nucleus for the growing city. The Roman span was a little downriver (east) of present-day London Bridge, and ran right over the spot where St Magnus’s churchyard now sits. Turn around and look directly away from the church and you’ll see it’s aligned with the ancient approach road of Fish Street Hill.
The porch area contains some remarkable relics. Hunt around and you’ll soon find some stones from the medieval London Bridge. Most remarkable of all is the (pictured) chunk of wood in the churchyard, a timber from an old Roman wharf. Touch it. The tree it came from was a contemporary of Jesus.
You might want to pop into the church to visit its remarkable model of the medieval bridge. Otherwise, leave the churchyard and turn right (east) to follow the busy Lower Thames Street. Climb up onto the pedestrian bridge and cross over. Stay on this level and turn left to find the information plaque.
Standing here on the raised walkway, you’re actually on a little-known part of Pudding Lane, notorious as the starting point for the Great Fire of London (see Stuart London). The plaque here, though, sticks with our Roman theme. It shows how Lower Thames Street was once the river foreshore, and an important site for fishing and trade.
Retrace your steps down to street level and head east once again. A little ways on, stop outside the office block of 101 Lower Thames Street.
This might just be the dullest office block in London were it not for what’s inside: the Billingsgate Roman House and Baths. These substantial Roman remains can be visited any Saturday between April and November, though you’ll need to book. If you haven’t booked, then take a minute to admire the map of Roman London which decorates one of the windows. We’ll see another one shortly…
Continue up the hill and round the bend until you see the magnificent copper-spired church of All-Hallows-by-the-Tower. Head inside.
3. Anglo-Saxon London
The Romans withdrew their forces and administrators from London in the early fifth century. The city rapidly declined. Archaeological evidence suggests it was all but abandoned a few decades later, with the population decamping upriver to a new settlement of Lundenwic (modern day Covent Garden). The City was eventually resettled, with hints of a first St Paul’s as early as 604. But proper reoccupation only began with Alfred the Great in the late 9th century.
No complete buildings from this time survive. Even small fragments are rare. One of the most impressive survivors can be found inside All Hallows. The body of the church is a hodge-podge, mostly 17th century, but with substantial remnants of an earlier Norman building. Most aged of all, you can find a stone archway from Anglo-Saxon times, itself made partially of Roman salvage. This is unique in the Square Mile.
While you’re in this most fascinating of churches, be sure to head down into the basement. Here you’ll find a section of Roman paving, as well as a model of Roman London that is itself over a century old. Sadly, this being an ancient listed building, accessibility is by stairs only.
If you want to see further echoes of Londinium, then head up to Tower Hill, where significant sections of Roman city wall and a modern statue of Trajan await. Otherwise, head north along Seething Lane until you reach the church at its far end.
4. Medieval London
We could easily have headed off to see the Tower of London at this point. Begun in Norman times and added to throughout the following centuries, it’s the ultimate example of Medieval power. Instead, we’re visiting a lesser-known oddity. I say “oddity” because the church of St Olave is a rare example of a City church that survived the Great Fire. Oh, and because it has three rather creepy skulls above its entrance gate, which led Dickens to dub the church “St Ghastly Grim”.
The gateway may carry a date of 1658, but the main body of the church survives from 1450, a replacement for the original Anglo-Saxon version. It’s dedicated to St Olave, also known as Olaf II of Norway. Olaf’s biography is a little confused, but he seems to have fought against the Danes in London as an ally of King Æthelred. Whatever, the patron saint of Norway adds a tincture of Viking London into the mix.
St Olave’s is a fascinating church to explore. This was the parish church of Samuel Pepys, and numerous memorials to the great diarist can be found inside and around the church. (They even hold Pepys’s personal copy of the Book of Common Prayer.)
Leave the church and head north along New London Street, passing Fenchurch Street station. Keep heading north along Billeter Street to reach Leadenhall Street. Turn left and, just before the ‘Cheesegrater’ skyscraper you’ll find St Andrew Undershaft church.
5. Tudor London
Much of the Tudor City was built of wood. Hence, what still survived by 1666 was almost entirely eradicated in the Great Fire. We have to turn to another church to get our Tudor fix in this part of the Square Mile, and it comes in the strangely named form of St Andrew Undershaft.
This tiny stone building of 1532 is easily missed among the ever-growing cluster of towers hereabouts. But St Andrew was, in its day, famed for its own skyscraping achievements. Not the building itself, but a tremendously tall maypole that was erected annually outside the church (hence ‘under-shaft’). A scaled-down replica can be found nearby, in the atrium beneath the Cheesegrater.
Incidentally, had you turned right out of Billiter Street, you would have encountered the church of St Katharine Cree, which also survived the Great Fire (Leadenhall was clearly a charmed street). Its nave is 17th century (and the only Jacobean church in the City), but the tower is Tudor and dates back to 1504.
Head south along Lime Street and its continuation of Philpot Lane to reach East Cheap. Head west one block to reach Pudding Lane.
6. Stuart London
Having tiptoed around the Great Fire, space and time have now converged to bring us to Pudding Lane in the 17th century. The lane itself is populated entirely with 20th and 21st century buildings, with nothing to see save for a couple of plaques. Around the bend, though, we reach The Monument – Wren and Hooke’s towering memorial to the Great Fire. If you’ve never had the pleasure, hand over a few coins for the privilege of climbing its 311 steps.
The story of the Great Fire is very well known, and so we won’t linger here any longer. Instead, we’re going to make a pitstop at an extreme rarity: a City pub that survived the Great Fire.
Head west a few paces to King William Street and cross over carefully. Follow Arthur Street round its curve and take the first right onto Martin Lane.
Here before us is The Olde Wine Shades, one of London’s most venerable pubs. It reckons to have opened in 1663, just three years before the fire. Somehow, it survived the conflagration and still trades to this day – a very fine, atmospheric wine bar, particularly the ancient cellar.
Pass along the alley at the southern end of The Olde Wine Shades (noting the antique safe embedded in the wall), and then straight ahead along Laurence Pountney Hill.
The building on your left, Rectory House, is a fine example of post-fire housing. It’s also reckoned to be the only private home in the Square Mile that can boast a garden (hat-tip tour guide Jonathan Wober, who gave me this fact). We’re in a bit of a late-Stuart enclave here, actually. Walk a few paces ahead and turn right into the continuation of Laurence Pountney Hill and you’ll see two of the most elegant doorframes in London.
After the fire, wood was no longer allowed as the principal building material. Instead, it was confined to window and door frames. The door frames here show how carpenters of the time made the most of their diminished remit. They’re simply gorgeous.
We’re now going to make our way to the Bank junction, where a quartet of neighbouring buildings will bring our time-travel tour to a quick-fire end. Follow Laurence Pountney Hill up to Cannon Street and head left (west) to find Walbrook (be sure to pay your respects to London Stone — the mysterious lump of rock that may be a Roman milestone, and is wrapped up in endless layers of folklore). Take Walbrook north until you reach Mansion House.
7. Georgian London
Mansion House is one of the most important buildings in the Square Mile. It’s the traditional home of the Lord Mayor, and has been a London landmark for quarter of a millennium. It’s so important that it has its own tube station (although “Mansion House” is actually only the third closest tube to the actual Mansion House – Bank and Cannon Street are nearer). The Palladian-style building was completed in 1752 and was the work of George Dance the Elder, with later additions by his prolific architect son “the Younger”. I could wax lyrical about the architecture, but the best thing to do is book yourself onto a tour of the building, which run most Tuesdays.
Walk around the corner into Bank junction and head for the Royal Exchange.
8. Victorian London
The Royal Exchange, though also built in a Corinthian, classical style is even grander than Mansion House, and much larger. This was traditionally the mercantile hub of the city, a place for trading and the insurance market. It’s the third Exchange on the site – the earliest was founded in Elizabeth I’s time. It and its successor burned down, and the current behemoth dates from the 1840s. It’s the work of William Tite, more prolifically a designer of railway stations and cemeteries.
These days, the Royal Exchange is London’s most elegant shopping centre. Anyone can wander inside and have a mooch around – perhaps stay for a coffee while you admire the Grade-I listed architecture. And look out for the sculpture of Abraham Lincoln at the eastern end.
Head back outside to the Bank junction and proceed to Poultry (named, like so many streets round here, after the trade it was once famous for). The largest building here is called The Ned.
9. 20th century
The Ned is a hotel and dining complex. It looks a little forbidding, but don’t be put off. There’s no dress code, and the door staff are very friendly. Wander inside and enjoy London’s swankiest food court. The Ned opened in 2017 but is based inside one of the capital’s finest interwar buildings. This was once the headquarters of Midland Bank (long since absorbed into HSBC), and was designed by none other than Edwin Lutyens, of Cenotaph (and much else) fame.
Lutyens was notable for adapting classical architecture to the needs of his time, and you can really sense that with The Ned. Compare it to the two neoclassical buildings we just visited and you can see the ingredients are the same – Portland stone, smooth rustication, columns. But the final ‘bake’ is very different, optimised for the office needs of a bank with multiple floors and many windows.
Now turn 180 degrees and admire the stripy confection across the road.
10. Modern London
Our final building is one of the most controversial in London. Many people hate No. 1 Poultry with a passion. But others – myself included – adore its colourful playfulness. Grand neoclassical buildings can get a bit overbearing after a while. James Sterling’s postmodern masterpiece relieves that tension, creating something that’s more chaotic, more human, more… fun. And it’s not just an office complex. It also serves as an entrance to the tube, a vibrant cut-through between Poultry and Queen Victoria Street, and you’ll also find a restaurant and eminently Instagrammable roof terrace up top.
Part of the problem was that it replaced the much-loved Mappin & Webb building which, frankly, should never have been demolished. But in its place has arisen a bold and truly unique symbol of the (post)modern age. It was completed in 1997 and listed within 20 years, which just goes to show that I’m not alone in appreciating this spectacular building.
So, there we have it. We’ve walked through the ‘Ten Ages of London’ in little more than an hour. The Square Mile is absolutely saturated in history from every era, so if your legs are still fresh, enjoy wandering ‘off-map’ with your eyes wide open. (The alleys south of Cornhill are particularly fun to explore.)
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