Comments on: The Ghosts Of Old London

By: Christine Swan

Christine Swan — Fri, 26 Dec 2025 11:56:57 +0000

I love these old photographs. They conjure up the days when my criminal ancestors were skulking around looking at what they could steal. My three times great granduncle ( apparently there is such a thing), Isaac Crudgington, was once convicted of stealing from a moving cart. He purloined an impressive variety of items, not of huge value, but in sufficient quantity to be of profit.
He is the only Crudgington of that generation that I possess a photograph of – and that is a prison mugshot. I imagine these narrow streets, courts and pubs were where he and his associates plotted his next heist. Wouldn’t it be marvellous to be able to travel back in time and wander about for a few hours?

By: Annie S

Annie S — Fri, 26 Dec 2025 09:28:43 +0000

Great old photographs, the people could never have imagined us looking at them over one hundred years later on our computers and smartphones!
I checked where Macclesfield Street is and I see it’s off Gerrard Street in the heart of what is now Chinatown, so very difficult although there are still some of the old buildings there but I can’t recognise one as originally the shop in the photo.

By: Peter JH

Peter JH — Fri, 26 Dec 2025 07:10:20 +0000

I suggest that in the very first image, the chap standing in the shadows of the shop could be a Police Constable. Two hints – the minute glints of reflected light on his forehead and at his throat correspond to the silver highlights of the Royal cypher (VR) on his helmet plate – the remainder of the plate being matte black in colour in those days. At his throat were his Constable identification numbers ( collar numbers – a term still in use today by officers.). There is also an indication of a heavy moustache, often favoured by the officers of the day.
Or, my second theory – there are light coloured first marks on the intervening window pane that correspond exactly to my imaginings and what we really have here is a sound example of paradolia.
I am prompted to offer the first suggestion though. as my brother once had a city centre beat and being a good cop, tracked down friendly brew spots, of which many were local shops. He there met a charming young lady assistant who fed him tea and biscuits and who later became his wife.