Inside The Model Of St Paul’s

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Simon Carter, Keeper of Collections at St Paul’s
In a hidden chamber within the roof of St Paul’s sits Christopher Wren’s 1:25 model of the cathedral, looking for all the world like the largest jelly mould you ever saw. When Charles II examined it in the Chapter House of old St Paul’s, he was so captivated by Wren’s imagination as manifest in this visionary prototype that he awarded him the job of constructing the new cathedral.
More than three hundred years later, Wren’s model still works its magic upon the spectator, as I discovered last week when I was granted the rare privilege of climbing inside to glimpse the view that held the King spellbound. While there is an austere splendour to the exterior of the model, I discovered the interior contains a heart-stopping visual device which was surely the coup that persuaded Charles II of Wren’s genius.
Yet when I entered the chamber in the triforium at St Paul’s to view the vast wooden model, I had no idea of the surprise that awaited me inside. Almost all the paint has gone from the exterior now, giving the dark wooden model the look of an absurdly-outsized piece of furniture but, originally, it was stone-coloured with a grey roof to represent the lead.
At once, you are aware of significant differences between this prototype and the cathedral that Wren built. To put it bluntly, the model looks like a dog’s dinner of pieces of Roman architecture, with a vast portico stuck on the front of the dome of St Peter’s in the manner of those neo-Georgian porches on Barratt Houses. Imagine a fervent hobbyist chopping up models of relics of classical antiquity and rearranging them, and this is the result. It is unlikely that this design would even have stood up if it had been built, so fanciful is the conception. Yet the long process of designing a viable structure, once he had been given instruction by Charles II, permitted Wren to reconcile all the architectural elements into the satisfying whole that we know today.
I had been tempted to visit the cathedral by an invitation to go inside the model but – studying it – I could not imagine how that could be possible. I could not see a way in. ‘Perhaps one end has hinges and Charles II crawled in on his hands and knees like a child entering a Wendy House?,‘ I was thinking, when Simon Carter, Keeper of Collections opened a door in the plinth and disappeared inside, gesturing me to follow. In blind faith, I dipped my head and walked inside.
When I stood up, I was beneath the dome with the floor of the cathedral at my chest height. There was just room for two people to stand together and I imagined the unexpected moment of intimacy between the Monarch and his architect, yet I believe Wren was quietly confident because he had a trick up his sleeve. From the inside, the drama of the architecture is palpable, with intersecting spaces leading off in different directions, and – as your eyes accustom to the gloom – you grow aware of the myriad refractions of light within this intricately-imagined interior.
Just as Wren directed Charles II, Simon Carter told me to walk to the far end of the model and sit on the bench placed there to bring my eye level down to the point of view of someone entering through the great west door. Then Simon left me there inside, just as I believe Wren left Charles II within the model, to appreciate the full effect.
I have no doubt the King was thrilled by this immersive experience, which quickly takes on a convincing reality of its own once you are alone. Charles II discovered himself confronted by a glorious vision of the future in which he was responsible for the first and greatest classically-designed church in this country, with the largest dome ever built. Such is the nature of the consciousness-filling reverie induced by sitting inside the model that the outside world recedes entirely.
How astonishing, once you have accustomed to the scale of the model, when a giant face appears filling the east window. I could not resist a gasp of wonder when I saw it and neither – I suggest – could Charles II when Christopher Wren’s smiling face appeared, grinning at him from the opposite end of the nave, apparently enlarged to twenty-five times its human scale.
In these unforgettable circumstances, the King could not avoid the realisation that Wren was a colossus among architects and – unquestionably – the man for the job of building the new St Paul’s Cathedral. The model had worked its spell.

Behold, the largest jelly mould in the world!


The belfry that was never built


The single portico that was replaced by a two storey version




Just a few fragments of paintwork remain upon the exterior

Original paintwork can be seen inside the model

Charles II’s point of view from inside the model

‘How astonishing, once you have accustomed to the scale of the model, when a giant face appears filling the east window.’
You may like to read my other stories of St Paul’s
The Stranger’s Guide To London

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Any readers from out of town who are preparing a visit to the capital this summer might like to read these excerpts from The Stranger’s Guide, exposing all the frauds of London, that I found in the archive at the Bishopsgate Institute.
The Countryman arrived in London.
Beaten by bullies & robbed.
Escaped & chased by watchmen.
Returned home gives a queer account of London.
BAWDS – Beware, young women, of those who, without any knowledge, pretend to be acquainted with you, your families and friends. This is an old bait to entice young women to their den to be devoured by the ravenous wolves to whom the bawd is a provider. Beware, ye unthinking young men, of receiving letters of assignation to meet at her house, for such letters are calculated to ensnare you and bring you to misery and destroy your health, fame and fortune. Avoid, ye countrymen and women, the pretended friendships of strangers that welcome you to town upon the arrival of the coach and that accost you at the inns, as they generally attend there for that purpose. If you once permit them to converse with you, they will by their artful speeches, so far ingratiate themselves into your good graces as the engage your belief, get the better of your resolutions and at length bring you, by listening to their stories, to ruin and destruction.
BULLIES – Are dependent upon bawds & whores, sometimes the bully pretends to be the husband of the whore, whose bread he eats, whose quarrel he fights, and at whose call he is ready to do as commanded. It is very common for these women to bring home a gentleman and on entering the house ask the maid in a whisper if her master is at home. The maid according to former instructions replies, “No, he is gone out of town and will not return until tomorrow.” Upon which the gentleman is invited in and entertained with a story of the bully’s jealousy and the whore’s constancy. When the gentleman expresses a desire to leave and the bill being called for, he finds fault with the change, then the maid enters and says her master is below and immediately the bully appears and demands to know the gentleman’s business there – if means to debauch his wife? He then blusters and talks about bringing an action but at length is pacified by the bill being discharged.
DUFFERS – These are a set of men that play upon the credulity of both sexes, by plying at the corner of streets, courts and alleys, their contraband wares, which generally consist of silk handkerchiefs made in Spitalfields, remnants of silk purchased at the piece brokers, which they tell you are true India, and stockings from Rag Fair or Field Lane, sometimes stolen, sometimes bought at very low prices, which they declare are just smuggled in from France, and therefore can afford to give you a bargain, if you will become the purchaser. On the other hand, should you not purchase, you will get abused and your pocket picked, at which they are very dexterous. Or, should you give them money to change, they tell you they will step to the public house to get it changed and come again in an instant. Then you see them enter the house and discover later, upon enquiry, they have escaped by the back door, to your great loss and mortification.
FORTUNE TELLERS & CONJURERS – Almost all countries abound with these vermin. In London, we have several very famous in the Astrological Science, who pretend to a knowledge of future events by observations of the celestial signs of the zodiac. The better to carry on their delusions, they can tell you whether your life will be happy or miserable, rich or poor, fruitful or barren, and thousand incidents to please your fancy and raise your curiosity, insinuating at the same time (if they think you have money about you) that much good awaits you, therefore they must have a greater price for their intelligence. Who would not give or guinea, nay two – say they for the completion of their wishes, be it wisdom or wealth, rather than a half a crown to learn that they might live in folly and poverty the rest of their lives?
FOOTPADS – Are so numerous and so often described in the public papers that little new light can be thrown upon them and their practices. Daring insolence and known-down arguments are generally their first salute, after which they rifle your pockets and, if you have but little of value about you, they often maim or violently bruise you for want of that you are not in possession of. These shocking acts of these rapacious sons of plunder call for the interference of the magistracy to put a stop to their daring and consummate impudence as they exhibit, in and about the metropolis, skulking in bye-lanes, desolate places, hedges and commons, in order to waylay the unsuspecting stranger or countryman.
GAMBLERS – There are so many methods of gambling as there are trades and they move in so many spheres, from the most noble dukes and duchesses to the most abandoned chimney-sweeper, pretenders to honour and honesty, versed in various tricks and arts, by which many among the nobility and the gentry have squandered away their fortunes for the occupation of a Complete Gambler or in the true sense of the word, an Expert Gambler. The better to put you on guard against this villainy, I will mention several of the most fashionable and alluring passtimes at which various methods of deluding and cheating are practiced with some success, viz. gaming houses and horse races, cock-fighting, bowling, billiards, tennis, pharo, rouge et noir, hazard &c. together with routs, assemblies, masquerades and concerts, of a particular or private nature. In the latter of these, you will find notorious gamblers of the female sex, who deal in art and deception, as well as some more notorious male cheats who barter one commodity for another without a reference of credit or making it a debt of honour.
HANGERS-ON – These are a set of men of an indolent life, who rather than labour to gain a livelihood, will submit to any meanness that they may eat the bread of idleness. There are many kinds, some pretending to understand the sciences, others the arts, some set up for authors, others wits and the like. Hangers-on will eat or drink with you wherever you stay but will never offer to pay a farthing, however in lieu thereof, they will tell you an indecent story or sing you the latest lewd song. These you will easily find out and may easily get rid of by not treating or encouraging them upon your arrival.
HIGHWAYMEN – Are desperate and resolute persons who having spent their patrimony or lavished their substance upon whores and gamesters, take to the road, in order to retrieve their broken fortunes and either recoup them by meeting with good booty or end their lives in Newgate. The best means to avoid highwaymen is not to travel by night and in be cautious in displaying money, banknotes or other valuables at the inns you put up at, and be careful what company you join for fear they learn of whither you are going and for what purpose – if to pay or receive money, they will almost certainly waylay and rob, if not murder you.
JILTS – Are ladies of easy virtue, who, through an hypocritical sanctity of manners, and pretensions to virtue and religion, draw the countryman and inexperienced cit into their clutches. Of all whores, the jilt is the most to be avoided – for knowing more than others, she is capable of doing more mischief.
KIDNAPPERS or CRIMPS – A set of men of abandoned principles, who having lavished away their fortunes enter into the pay of the East India Company, in order to recruit their army – and, in time of war, when a guinea or two is advertised to be given to any person that brings a proper man, of five feet eight or nine inches high, these kidnappers lie in wait in different places of rendezvous, in order to entrap men for money.
RING-DROPPERS – These are a set of cheats, who frequently cheat simple people, both from the country and in London, out of their money, but most commonly practice their villainous arts upon young women. Their method is to drop a ring just before such persons come up, when they accost them thus, “Young woman, I have found a ring and I believe it is gold for it has a stamp upon it.” Immediately, an accomplice joins in, who being asked the question replies, “It is gold.” “Well” says the formers, “As this young woman saw me pick it up, she has the right to half of it.” As it often happens that the young person has but a few shillings in her pocket, the dropper says, “If you have a mind for the ring, you shall have it for what you have got in your pocket and whatever else you can give me,” which sometimes turns out to be a good handkerchief, cloak or other article. The deluded creature then shows the ring to another person in the street who informs her she is cheated by sharpers and the ring is not worth tuppence, being only brass gilt with a false stamp put on the deceive the unwary.
PICK-POCKETS – There are more pick-pockets in and about London than in all Europe besides, that make a trade and what they call a good living by their employment. The opera, playhouses, capital auctions, public gardens &c swarm with them. And, of late years, they have introduced themselves into our very churches and more particularly Methodist meetings. Therefore it would be prudent, when in a crowd, to keep one hand on your money and the other on your watch, when you find anyone push against you. Pocket books are only secure in the inside pocket with the coat buttoned and watch chains should be run through a small loop contrived for the purpose of securing the watch in the fob.
QUACKS – These are a set of vile wretches who pretend to be versed in physic and surgery, without education, or even knowledge of a common recipe. If they think the patient is able to pay handsomely, they make them believe their case is desperate and generally turn them out worse than they find them.
SETTERS – These are a dangerous set of wretches who are capable of committing any villainy, as well by trapping a rich heir into matrimony with a cast-off mistress as by coupling a young heiress to a notorious sharper, down to the lowest scene of setting debtors for the bailiff and his followers. Smitten at the first glance of a lady, you resign your heart and hand at discretion, which she immediately accepts, on a presumption that delays are dangerous. The conjugal knot being tied, you find the promised and wished-for land, houses and furniture, the property of another and not of yourself.
SMUGGLERS – These are a numerous race of people that have no other way of living than following the illegal practice of smuggling. Two different gangs are concerted in carrying on this wicked business, the first to import the goods from abroad and the other to dispose of them when landed, but if the first were taken and punished as they deserve, the latter would fall of course.
WAGON HUNTERS – These are errant thieves, that ply in the dusk of the evening to rob the wagons upon their arrival. They are equally skillful in cutting away portmanteaus, trunks and boxes from behind chaises &c, if not thoroughly watched, which is the duty of every driver to take care of, by attending to the vehicle under his charge and giving a good look-out.
Images courtesy Bishopsgate Institute
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Marion Elliot’s Pictorial Guide To Rural Crafts

Magnificent Apple Strudel kindly baked by Farokh Talati, Head Chef at St John Bread & Wine for the lucky guests on this Sunday’s tour of Whitechapel. Click here to book for Whitechapel tours on Sundays 23rd August, 6th and 23rd September, and 18th October
We are delighted to show these splendid cut paper collages by favourite illustrator Marion Elliot which are the subject of her exhibition MAKING GOOD at Tinsmiths in Ledbury, opening this weekend and running until 4th September. For those of you unable to make the trip to Herefordshire, I publish them here today.
‘While I was working on fabric designs based on mochaware pottery for Phoebe Clive, owner of Tinsmiths, we discussed how we wanted to celebrate traditional crafts. Many of the themes of my collages, such as smocking, come from ideas sparked by my visits to rural museums, agricultural fairs, flower shows and also traditional customs including Lammas Day celebrations. When Phoebe offered me an exhibition to launch the fabric and show a collection of these collages, I was delighted to accept.’ Marion Elliot

At the Block Printers
The production of block-printed fabrics in the British Isles was inspired by hand-printed fabrics imported from Asia. Early blocks were carved from pear or sycamore wood and used to print fabric by hand before the arrival of mechanisation. Interest in hand block-printing was revived by William Morris in the nineteenth century and continued in the twentieth century by designers such as Barron & Larcher, who shared Morris’ interest in natural dyes, and their pupil Enid Marx.

At the Clay Pipe Factory
Clay pipes were made from the middle of the sixteenth century in London and the craft spread rapidly throughout England. Family groups often made pipes together which were formed by pushing white earthenware clay into two-part plaster moulds. Some moulds were ornate and produced highly decorative pipes. The central channel was achieved by feeding an oiled wire through the body of the pipe which met a stopper at the bowl. Clay pipes were cheap and disposable, but they were replaced by wooden pipes in the nineteenth century and cigarettes during the First World War.

The Fair Isle Knitters
Fair Isle knitting comes from a tiny island situated between Orkney and the Shetland Islands, north of Scotland. It is created using double ended needles and knitted in the round, using two colours at a time, with around four colours being used in the whole garment. In this picture two sisters knit sweaters. Their neighbour has been cutting peats and carries them in a traditional handmade kishie woven from straw, dockens and marram grass.

At the Slipware Factory
Popular from the seventeenth century onwards, slipware pottery was decorated by applying contrasting slip, or liquid clay, to unfired clay. This was poured, trailed or brushed onto the surface and could also be scratched away to reveal the colour of the clay beneath by a technique known as sgraffito. There were some very notable English slipware makers, such as Thomas & Ralph Toft, who made pottery with biblical and royal themes.

At the Tinsmiths
Tinware was produced in London from the middle of the seventeenth century. Unlike blacksmithing, it was a cold metal craft although fire was used to heat tools and solder. Tinsmiths made metal containers and utensils entirely by hand, using tinned steel sheet and wire. They hammered the metal sheets over iron stakes to bend them into shape and ran solder down the joints to seal them. Many tinsmiths, tinkers, were itinerant and returned to their customers to make repairs and patch up holes.

The Smock Maker
Before the invention of elastic, smocking stitches were used to gather fullness in smocks worn by agricultural labourers. This technique offered a bit of ‘give’ across the chest and shoulders, allowing movement when working. Different trades and skills often had distinctive smocking patterns, making the wearers easy to identify.

At the Mochaware Factory
Mochaware was a cheap variety of decorated tankards, bowls and jars in earthenware pottery, featuring bands applied with liquid clay, achieved by turning each piece on a lathe while applying even lines of slip. The most common styles were earthworm, a trailing, wavy design and cats’ eyes, comprising dotted multicolour motifs. Tree-like patterns were achieved by dropping an acidic mocha tea mixture onto the wet slip so that it spread across the surface in a pattern resembling branches.

The Harvest Jug Maker
Harvest jugs are large earthenware pitchers decorated with contrasted slip and embellished with scratched sgraffito designs celebrating fertility, the abundance of nature, royal coats of arms, sailing ships and other traditional motifs. They were employed to serve ale and cider to farm workers at harvest time and at celebrations for the end of the cut, when the crops were safely home. There is a strong tradition of harvest jug making around Bideford and Barnstaple in North Devon with some spectacular examples at the Burton Museum in Bideford.

The Harvest Loaf Baker
The baker takes the Lammas loaf – made using wheat from the first cut of the new harvest – out of the oven. Behind him is a traditional harvest loaf in the form of a wheatsheaf and above him, corn tokens or dollies made with the last of the old harvest. Lammas Day falls on 1st August, when the new loaf is taken to church and blessed to give thanks for the harvest. The enormous harvest loaf is employed as the centrepiece of harvest festivals throughout the late summer and early autumn.

At the Chair Makers
Making chairs by hand is still widely practised, continuing the tradition of the Arts & Crafts makers such as Ernest Gimson, who was heavily influenced by rural chairmaker Philip Clisset. His company made the original ladder-back, rush-seated chairs – still used at the Art Workers’ Guild – in their workshop in Bosbury near Ledbury, Herefordshire.

The Silk Ribbon Maker
In Spitalfields, silk ribbon weaving was established in the late seventeenth century by Huguenot refugees. Then, from the early eighteenth to the middle of the nineteenth century, silk ribbon weaving became Coventry’s main industry. At one stage around 13,000 hand looms were in operation and half the population of Coventry was associated with the trade. The jacquard loom, shown here, wove several widths at once. An alternative method was to weave the ribbons as a broadcloth, with gaps between, so they could be cut and separated after production.

Preparing for the Flower & Produce Show
Even before the show takes place, there are weeks of anxiety as flowers and vegetables are lovingly tended and fussed over by their growers. Customarily, judgment at flower and produce shows is strict and there are many rules governing display of exhibits which, if disregarded, can result in disqualification.

At the Flower & Produce Show
Agricultural Fairs traditionally take place during the month of August, when farmers bring their champion beasts to compete for glory in the ring. The Flower & Produce Show is a fiercely contested part of the fair, taking place in enormous marquees, where prize vegetables and flowers are displayed alongside jams, pickles, cakes, knitted items and children’s vegetable sculptures. Other attractions include sheep shearing, horse jumping and dressage, traction engine and tractor rallies, beer tents and very often, fairground rides.

At the Fry Gallery 1
This collage was made in response to Fry’s Popular Delights, an exhibition curated by Mark Hearld & Colin Wilkin at the Fry Gallery in Saffron Walden, featuring items from the collections of the Great Bardfield artists. Here is an image of a house by Tirzah Garwood, a Staffordshir zebra, two Wedgwood pottery mugs by Eric Ravilious and a mochaware mug.

At the Fry Gallery 2
More inspiration from Fry’s Popular Delights, featuring a Wedgwood Elizabeth II coronation mug by Eric Ravilious, a coronation money box, a mochaware mug, a collection of clay pipes and a few other bits from my own collection.
Illustrations copyright © Marion Elliot
The Lost World Of The Alleys

Join me for tea and cakes freshly baked to recipe of 1720 served in a 300 year old house. Click here for tickets for next Saturday’s tour of Spitalfields

You only walk in the alleys if you have a strong stomach and stout shoes, if you are willing to ignore the stink and the sinister puddles for the sake of striking out alone from the throng of humanity coursing along Bishopsgate.
This whole place was once characterised by the warren of alleys and yards which laced the streets. And, when the fancy takes me to enter those that remain, it is in thrall to the delusion that maybe I can find a way back through the labyrinth to old Spitalfields. There is part of my mind that wonders if I will ever find my way out again and another part of me that yearns for this outcome, longing to find an alley that is a portal to a parallel world.
Of the alleys that tempt the innocent pedestrian emerging from Liverpool St Station, only Catherine Wheel Alley actually leads anywhere, delivering you by means of a dog-leg to Middlesex St. Stepping beneath the arched entrance and passing under the low ceiling above, you emerge behind the buildings which line the street to discover yourself at the bottom of a well where sunlight descends, bouncing off the ceramic bricks lining the walls. You walk dead straight in the blind faith that a route lies ahead and enter a tiny yard, where you may surprise a guilty smoker enjoying an illicit cigarette.
“Can I get through?” asked a lone woman I encountered, approaching from the opposite direction with a disarming lack of wariness. I stood against the wall in the yard here to consider the confluence of buildings that intersect in elaborate ways overhead and, to my surprise, a door opened in the wall behind me and an Eastern European woman asked me to step aside as she hauled out two sack of rubbish before disappearing again. From this yard, a narrow street leads uneventfully to Middlesex St – the drama of the alley diminished once the destination is apparent.
Perhaps most people avoid these empty alleys for fear of what they might discover? Individuals engaged in lewd activity or relieving bodily functions, or injecting pharmaceuticals, or threatening violence, or robbery, or worse? Yet every corner of every alley has a film camera gazing down, removing the possibility of any truly clandestine activity.
The lack of space in these passages demands that people acknowledge each other and the code of mutual disregard which prevails in the street cannot hold. This is the true magnetism of alleys, as escape routes from the hegemony of the crowd. The spatial disorientation, leaving street sounds behind you, as you enter an ambiguous architectural maze is a welcome respite. You can turn in the alley and look back to the people on the pavement, and you discover you have become invisible – they no longer see you.














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Henry Silk’s Still Life

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In 1930, basketmaker and artist Henry Silk sits alone in his sparsely furnished room in Rounton Rd in Bow surrounded by few personal possessions. He glances in the mirror and realises that he is no longer young. Yet the pair of medals from the Great War laid on the table remind him how lucky he is to be alive.
He wakes in the camp bed in the early morning and the empty green room is flooded with light as dawn rises over the rooftops of the East End and washing flaps on the line. Weaving baskets suits a contemplative nature and, when Henry returns from the kitchen with a cup of tea, he sits at the table with the pink cloth and studies the objects upon the surface in the morning sunlight.
The forms and colours of these familiar things fascinate him. His pipe, his purse and his pocket knife that he carried for years are as commonplace to him as his own hands. Each day, Henry paints a picture to catalogue his personal possessions, comprising the modest landscape of his existence. It is a whole life in a handful of paintings.

























Henry Silk and his sister
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Colin O’Brien In Whitechapel

The Whitechapel Mount in 1801. Was the Mount an ancient burial mound? Was it where all the leylines converge in East London? Visit the site of the Whitechapel Mount on my new tour and discover the mystery of the Mount. Tickets are available on Sundays 23rd August, 6th and 23rd September, and 18th October. Tour includes tea and apple strudel at the Whitechapel Gallery. Click here to book
Between 2012-2014, photographer Colin O’Brien documented Whitechapel, recording the changes delivered by the Olympics and the building of the Elizabeth Line. A decade later the transformation has only accelerated.
Photographs copyright Estate of Colin O’Brien
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The Drawing Rooms Of Old London

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Impending gloom at the Mansion House, c. 1910
Given the relentless heatwave, I think the only prudent course of action is to withdraw into one of the drawing rooms of old London and close the curtains. A meagre ray of sunlight has filtered through the drapes, highlighting the dust upon the armoire. Stretch out upon the chaise longue, I shall take the sofa where I shall open my copy of War & Peace while my cat will settle upon the fauteuil.
These glass slides once used for magic lantern shows by the London & Middlesex Archaeological Society at the Bishopsgate Institute reveal glimpses into the lavish drawing rooms occupied by those at the pinnacle of power in old London, and I can only wonder what the East Enders of a century ago thought when exposed to these strange visions of another world.
State Room Chelsea Royal Hospital, c. 1920
Drawing Room at Lindsay House, Chelsea, former home of the Moravians, 1912
Hall at Fulham Palace, c. 1920
White Drawing Room, Buckingham Palace, c. 1910
Dining Room at Buckingham Palace, c. 1910
Christians’ Sitting Room, Buckingham Palace, c. 1910
Prince Consort’s Writing Room, Buckingham Palace, c. 1910
Throne Room at St James’ Palace, c.1910
Prince Consort’s Music Room, Buckingham Palace, c. 1910
Prince Consort’s Tapestry Room, Buckingham Palace, c. 1910
Empress Eugiene’s Room, Buckingham Palace, c. 1910
Bow Saloon, Buckingham Palace, c. 1910
Prince Consort’s Writing Room, Buckingham Palace, c. 1910
Prince Consort’s Music Room, Buckingham Palace, c. 1910
Queen Victoria’s Dolls’ House, Kensington Palace, c. 1910
Holland House, c. 1910
Lord Mayor’s Room, Mansion House, c.1910
Drawing Room, Goldsmiths Hall, c. 1920
Drawing Room, Armourers’ Hall, c. 1920
Small Hall at Cordwainers’ Hall, 1920
Drawing Room, Goldsmiths’ Hall, 1920
Drawing Room, Salters’ Hall, c. 1910
Drawing Room, Mercers’ Hall, 1920
Drawing Room, Devonshire House, c. 1910
Ballroom at Devonshire House, c. 1910
Drawing Room, Whitehall Gardens, 1913
Prince Consort’s Dressing Room, Buckingham Palace, c. 1910
Belgian Suite Bedroom, Buckingham Palace, c. 1910
Prince Consort’s Study, Buckingham Palace, c. 1910
Bow Saloon, Buckingham Palace, c. 1910
Throne Room, Buckingham Palace, c. 1910
Vestry of St Lawrence Jewry, c. 1920
Glass slides courtesy Bishopsgate Institute
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