Walk through any London street and you'll pass countless everyday objects without a second glance. Yet many of these seemingly mundane items conceal remarkable stories, from saving lives in wartime to serving royalty. These pieces of hidden history, disguised as ordinary street furniture, hold secrets that most Londoners and tourists overlook entirely.
The Stretcher Fences of the Blitz
Scattered across the capital, particularly on estates like the Watts Grove Estate in Tower Hamlets, are rows of unassuming metal railings. To the untrained eye, they appear to be ordinary modern garden fences. In reality, they are repurposed World War Two stretchers, vital equipment used to carry wounded civilians during the Blitz.
Historian Alice Loxton told the Mail that most people have no idea of their heroic past. "They look like something much more modern," she said, "and I suppose because of that people are really surprised when they realise they've had this other past, this other story." After the war, the metal stretchers became scrap and were upcycled into fences. Today, their number is dwindling as damage leads to replacement with modern railings. Remaining examples can be found near Devons Road (E3), Borough High Street (SE1), Oval (SW8), and Deptford (SE8).
Cannons, Hooks, and Million-Year-Old Trees
Other secrets are even more obscure. On Great Newport Street in Covent Garden, a small metal hook with a 'Metropolitan Police' plaque is attached to a black-tiled building. Lore suggests it was used by officers to hang their coats while directing traffic before lights were installed, though its exact history is a mystery.
In Regent's Park, near the waterfall, lie fossilised tree trunks that are between 20 to 100 million years old, remnants from the Royal Botanic Society's tenure. Meanwhile, a battered bollard beside Southwark Bridge, often used as an ashtray, is actually an 18th-century French cannon, likely captured from ships after the Battle of Trafalgar in 1805.
A Queen's Bath and a Forgotten Legacy
Perhaps the most personal relic sits in Greenwich Park: a sunken bath in disrepair. This was once part of the luxurious Montagu House residence of Queen Caroline of Brunswick, the estranged wife of King George IV. After their disastrous marriage, she lived there until around 1814. In a spiteful act, George later ordered the house destroyed, but the bath was rediscovered in the 20th century.
Alice Loxton reflects that these objects represent a broader truth about hidden history. "You could walk past them for decades of your life," she said, "and never even think twice about considering the history they might have. That's why it's so extraordinary." These silent witnesses to London's past continue to blend into the cityscape, their extraordinary stories waiting to be noticed by those who know where to look.
