Showing posts with label ironmongery. Show all posts
Showing posts with label ironmongery. Show all posts

27 January 2026

The names behind the letters on 161-167 Euston Road

I have lost count how many times I have looked at the building at the corner of on Euston Road and Upper Woburn Place, today occupied by Prezzo and Barry's Bootcamp, and wondered what on earth the letter N in the metalwork signifies. It's been on my To Do list for decades, so here goes... 

Here is the view from Eversholt Street with the portico of St Pancras New Church on the left:

Having just searched my archives for some pics of the details, it appears I have never taken a photo of this building, so all the images here are screen shots from Google Streetview. This is probably because I usually question the Ns when I have just gone past on a bus, having missed hundreds of photo opportunities. 

The next image shows the Ns within the fancy the metalwork, painted light grey-green. There is also a scripty B above the door to the restaurant at the corner:

The B is for Barclays Bank – I have seen Barclays Bs on other buildings, such as not far from here at 236-240 Pentonville Road where a second door has a letter T above it denoting Telephones/Telegraph office. They might well have had one of those 'You can telephone from here' signs outside. Barclays and the Post Office often occupied the same spaces. Coincidentally, here in Euston Road there is a huge telephone exchange next door constructed in the early 1930s (one of many exchanges in this area).


The view above, from the church across Upper Woburn Place, shows how impressive this building is. The elegant design continues on all three sides. At the corner of Endsleigh Gardens there is a similar corner door to the Barclays bank entrance but the embellishment contains no letter and has been painted black. A semi-circle of fancy metalwork is still in place:


At street level along Endsleigh Gdns there are elegant columned supports between which would have been, I am sure, display windows, today infilled with smaller windows:


At the western end the access for delivery vehicles is now also mostly blocked.

So, what do the Ns signify? 
Well, it turns out this was a company called Nettlefold & Sons, ironmongers. The company's address is shown as 163 Euston Road, today the entrance to Barry's Bootcamp, although I think Nettlefold's showroom and offices would have been accessed by the rear corner door.
Nettlefolds was founded at 54 High Holborn in 1823. They became famous for the quality of their screws used for boat and bridge building, manufactured in Smethwick. Almost 100 years later, in 1928, they moved to this Euston Road address which, I assume, due to its Beaux Arts style, was already constructed when the Nettlefolds arrived. 


The entrance to No163 later became access to the post office and Euston telegraph exchange next door. The 1939 directory shows that this door was also used by a Scottish life assurance company and Asprey & Co, goldsmiths.

N is for Nettlefolds. 
The strange this is, considering I have a bulging folder of photos of ironmongers' and founders' marks on coal hole plates, railings and bridges, I had never before heard of Nettlefolds until today, nor seen evidence of their work, probably because they made component parts often hidden from view.

Also, see the comments section below for how the company was absorbed into GKN – thanks Anonymous! 

25 July 2025

Could this be London's oldest coal hole cover?

Last Monday, wandering up and down the streets between The British Museum and St George's church, Bloomsbury, wandering into shops and galleries (galleries are shops too!) behaving like the rest of the tourists around me, I spotted a few oddities along the way, in the form of street furniture and details on buildings. Most of these can wait for another day but here I am going to talk about a few coal hole covers I spotted, one of which I think might be the oldest I have ever seen or, simply the most intriguing.

Turning into Museum Street from New Oxford Street there is this fairly modern building at the corner.


It looks to be 1980s/90s in style and it's strange that I had never before noticed it. This kind of thing often happens on my guided walks when I show people a huge Art Deco era building and an attendee who lives or works in the area tells me it's the first time they have seen it, often asking me how long it has been there. Basically, we simply walk past walls without looking up as we scurry from A to B.

Had I not been snooping around looking for a date stamp on this building (nothing found) I probably wouldn't have revisited the first of a row of coal hole cover plates which was partially hidden by racks of souvenirs (shown below right) – the image on the left is the a view looking back southwards to the top of the street. 


I've noticed these cover plates before but never thought to investigate them until now. There are at least five similar plates along this stretch of Museum Street bearing the name and address of Wilson & Co, 117 Charterhouse St, London, which is next door to the beautiful Doulton-tiled Fox & Anchor pub mid-way between Smithfield Market and Barbican station. 
Mr H. Wilson is listed in the 1895 directory as a pavement light manufacturer as seen in the circular glass sections within the cover plates here in Museum Street, the conical or pyramidical prisms designed to direct light into the basement space below the pavement.  
Coal hole cover plates usually indicate that the adjacent building is/was a house/residential and, stepping back for a wider view of this red brick terrace, it's clear to see that the shops we see today were not part of the original design. This terrace is called Talbot Mansions, the name indicating that it was constructed as an apartment block, therefore needing coal for residents on every level.
 

Either there were multiple entrance doors along here giving the appearance of a row of terraced houses with each door adjacent to a coal hole plate or there a couple of entrances at street level, the coal holes being accessible at various points below ground. 
Panels on the side of the building show the build date of 1890 but I cannot ascertain the relevance of the letter S. It could be the initial of the owner or the developer/builder.


Diagonally across the junction there is Ruskin House at 40-41 Museum Street, bearing an ornate hanging sign that includes the name of George Allen & Unwin, a publishing company founded in 1911.


In the googled pic above you'll notice a side doorway with an in-wall boot scraper to the right of it. To the left of that door is what I think might be a very old coal hole cover or, possibly, the oldest one I have yet discovered. 
That white snakey thing is an air-con extractor.

As you can see, this appears to be the right size for a coal hole cover. The lidded style with a knob at the centre could possibly pre-date the smoother branded and lockable cover plates like the Wilson ones across the street. I did try to lift the lid, but it's fixed in place. 
The square surround is also peculiar to me as I have never before seen the like of it, and I wonder if it's the same age as the lid. It could be that the two elements are made of different quality metals. 
Another idea is that this could be an access plate for a drain we cannot see...? 

The companies listed here a in the 1880s include Edward Morrison, inspector of weights and measures, and James Brodie who was an ornamental human hair manufacturer, which I assume means he made fancy wigs, perukes and toupées.

That's as far as I've got. If you have any further info please use the comments section below or contact me via janeslondon@gmail,com

I'll be back with part three of my musings in the museum zone in a few days' time – you can expect mosaics and mastic, man holes and more metal

20 March 2025

Broken glass and gas lamps on Horse Guards Road

I'm still writing about the zone between Horse Guards Parade*, St James's Park and The Mall, because there's so much to discover ins such a small space. Scroll down to see the previous posts. 

At the junction with The Mall there is a building known as the Admiralty Citadel. It's a bug lump covered in creeper.  At this time of year it's possible to see a panel affixed to its side telling us that it houses a dry riser inlet valve (amongst other things). 

In front of that there is a smaller building also covered in creeper looking like the big building had a baby, or a poo. Next to that, there's a tall skinny glass sculpture. This is the National Police Memorial. The water feature at the base has been removed (as per many other memorials near here) and the lights no longer illuminate it, but I actually now prefer it for its simplicity and the way that daylight seeps through and enhances its damaged and repaired corner sections, where different coloured glass has been inserted, resembling jewel-like slivers.


Nearby, within the pavement, I noticed a circular utility plate, approximately the same size as a coal hole cover plate, but bearing a design I have never seen anywhere else – three concentric rings of Jazz Age era letters that look like E D repeated.


A few metres along the path I found anther one, and then another and another, some of them almost obliterated by the road surface. I wondered what they were used for as they certainly weren't for the delivery of coal. 
I crossed over to the park side of the road and found another one very close to one of the huge gas lamps.


And then it hit me – Aha! yes! These plates must be access for either the gas feed or the electricity for the timers that power these impressive lanterns along Horse Guards Road which were installed during the rein of George V** 
The letterform on these plates is very Art Deco, a chunkier version of the 'Broadway' typeface, but what is the relevance of ED? Who was Ed?! It's more likely to signify something like Energy Department.
 
A GRV cipher on one of the lamp posts.

Any further info, please leave a comment or contact me via email: jane@janeslondon.com

*In an earlier post I wrote this as one word, horseguards, and queried whether this should have a possessive. Having just checked the a few maps, I only now discover that it's Horse Guards; two words with no indication of possession. No guards for a horse to wear. Nor does the horse do the guarding. Well, not alone, he has a guard on his back, the guard being a man, a soldier.  I'll stop now as I am confusing myself! 

**These lamps feature on my London by Gaslight guided tours which I will continue to offer into the late spring, starting at 8pm or later – let me know if you are interested.