The Mysterious Myddelton Passage Carvings

Myddelton Passage in Islington, near to Sadler’s Wells theatre, looks at first glance to be a pretty ordinary back street.

Looks, however, are deceiving. Look closer at the brick wall that runs the whole length of the passage and you will see something strange: a series of carvings. Various numbers, letters and names are all carved into the bricks.

What are they and where did they come from? Here’s the story…

Myddelton Passage

Today Myddelton Passage is a fairly pleasant back-alley between Myddelton Square and the New River Head.

Myddelton Square is a lovely Georgian style square built from the 1820s and 1840s. The New River Head is a reservoir built by the New River Company in the early 17th century to provide fresh water to London.

The New River Company moved its headquarters here in the 1820s at the same time that the square was developed.

Myddelton Passage was therefore turned into a dark, poorly lit passageway behind the square. It became known as a hotbed of crime and general shenanigans.

It features, for example, in George Gissing’s 1889 novel The Nether World. The fantastically named character Pennyloaf Candy is attacked here: ‘Pennyloaf’s hysterical cries and the frantic invectives of her assailant made the Passage ring’.

Local policemen therefore frequented Myddelton Passage on their patrols and possibly even stationed there overnight. That leads me on to the carvings…

The Carvings

Up until 2006, the local theory behind the carvings was that the wall was built by prisoners from the Napoleonic Wars and they had carved their prisoner numbers into the wall.

However, in 2006, Peter Guillery of English Heritage investigated the wall as part of a study into historic London.

He discovered that, in fact, they were left by bored Victorian policemen! The idea had actually been suggested to him by a retired police officer.

What you are mostly seeing is the collar number of the policeman followed by their division letter. Most have the ‘G’ for G division. This was the Finsbury Division operating out of King’s Cross. Others however have left whole names and dates.

Peter was even able to trace a few of the policemen who left their mark here. 365 Plymouth is Frederick Albert Victor Moore who joined G division in 1886. the carving that says ‘Robinson’ is thought to be from Detective Sergeant Robinson of G division, who was sadly stabbed to death in 1888.

Why here?

This is a mystery. Presumably a bored policeman decided to leave his mark here on a particularly slow shift and others followed suit.

The Metropolitan police force was only founded in 1829, so relatively new at this time.

There were plenty of early issues in the force, for example drunkenness on shift, a high suicide rate in the force and attacks by Irish extremists. Perhaps it was a way the policemen felt they could make their mark (literally) and feel connected in some way to each other and the landscape?

The fact it was dark, away from the eyes of the public and there was such a large canvas of brickwork for them to carve on must have all been factors.

The tradition seems to have died out with the onset of the First World War. In 1950 the wall on the other side was demolished and flats were built. This opened the passageway up to more light and prying eyes, therefore putting a stop to the practice.

It is a brilliant, hidden historical gem that, I think, is a wonderful connection to the past and past Londoners.

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