Postman’s Park in November.

Posted by

Ali Barwani

17 November 2023

On 17 November 2023

Postman’s Park in November.

Visitors are often surprised to learn that the City of London is home to around two hundred small gardens and planted spaces. Some of these oases were created by the Victorians from existing churchyards, and more came into being after the Second World War because of enemy bombing. New pocket parks continue to appear as the Square Mile undergoes redevelopment.

As well as providing a tranquil spot to sit and enjoy a coffee, City Gardens are good places to look for gardening inspiration. They require plants that can contend with poor soil, drought, traffic pollution, pigeons and rats, low light, ‘canyon winds’, and hordes of tourists and office workers. The soil in these parks is often compacted and shallow. Below the surface lies an underground city of sewers, drains, water pipes, power and communication cables, tube and railway lines, cellars, underground carparks, crypts, and burial grounds. Plants that can survive in these conditions will thrive in the archetypal narrow and shady London back garden.

Today I am visiting Postman’s Park, a short distance from St. Paul’s Cathedral. Walking up St Martin’s Le Grand from St Paul’s underground station, it is easy to miss the entrance nestling between a Portland stone clad office block and the London City Presbyterian Church. A blue, cast-iron police call post (not to be confused with the larger police box favoured by Dr Who) stands on the pavement outside the entrance, making it clear that you have arrived at the right place.

The entrance to Postman’s Park is flanked by a short run of cast-iron railings. A flight of three stone steps takes you up into the park. This change in topography provides a clue to its origins.

In the 19^th century there was a lack of burial space in London. Out of necessity, graves had to be reused repeatedly. This practice resulted in burials stacking on top of each other, covered only by a thin layer of soil. In this fashion the surface of the soil rose above street level.

As Dicken’s observed in ‘Our Mutual Friend’, ‘Here, conveniently and healthfully elevated above the level of the living, were the dead.’

The 1851 Metropolitan Burials Act forbade the majority of further burials in central London, and they instead occurred in the new private grounds such as Highgate and Kensal Green. Graveyards began to close in the City, and many remains were relocated to the new cemeteries.

In 1858, the churchwardens of St Botolph, Aldersgate, announced their plan to clear the remains and convert the burial ground into an open space. The site finally became a public park in 1880, becoming an amalgamation of three City of London burial grounds. Its origins are still witnessed by the many gravestones grouped together against the walls around the park.

Postman’s Park acquired its name because of its popularity as a lunchtime spot by post office workers from the nearby old General Post Office.

I have come to see both the plants and the ‘Memorial to Heroic Self-Sacrifice’, a wooden loggia sheltering a long wall of tiled memorial tablets, instigated by the eminent Victorian artist G.F. Watts. The extended park and memorial wall opened to the public in 1900. The project was continued after his death in 1904, by his widow, Mary Seton Watts. This unique memorial commemorates ordinary people who died saving the lives of others, and whose heroic deeds might easily become forgotten.

It is worth spending some time reading the memorials, they are both fascinating and poignant.

For example, one commemorates, ‘Alice Ayers, daughter of a bricklayer’s labourer who by intrepid conduct saved 3 children from a burning house in Union Street, Borough, at the cost of her own young life. April 24, 1885’.

There are almost 50 memorial tablets on the wall. In 2009 a new memorial was added, the first in over seventy years.

I pause to read it: ‘Leigh Pitt. Reprographic Operator. Aged 30. Saved a drowning boy from the canal at Thamesmead, but sadly was unable to save himself. June 7, 2009.’

I find the continuity with the vision of G. F. Watts brings peace to my mind.

There are plans for an NHS Covid memorial to be in the park, although not as part of the tiled wall. However, this is subject to further consultation. It seems appropriate, given that three of the tablets in the cloister commemorate the bravery of doctors who died while trying to save others.

The park is a limpid pool of green encircled by tall buildings. This quiet haven in the centre of noise is, in essence, a woodland garden, albeit one with exotic touches. Urban green spaces favour the cultivation of tender species thanks to their warmer microclimate.

As I follow the winding York stone paths, I see the autumnal light shining through the tops of the trees. The leaves are turning golden, and in the distance a man with a broom is sweeping fallen leaves into neat piles. The sound emitted by the leaves has changed now that they are desiccated. Brown toadstools corkscrew themselves out of the soil in the borders, I imagine them growing from decaying coffin wood.

The tall buildings surrounding the park prevent the low sun from penetrating into its heart. Instead, the park appears even darker in contrast to the sunlit upper floors of the offices.

Postman’s Park has many interesting trees, include a handkerchief tree (Davida involucrata) that is covered with large white bracts in late Spring. It has a horse chestnut tree, and numerous obligatory London planes. The mature trees shelter an understory of smaller trees and large shrubs, giving it a woodland feel. There are groups of camellias carry that will carry plentiful flowers in spring. A red Japanese acer looks gloriously autumnal. Sly gusts of wind send its scarlet leaves scattering in fright.

Clumps of hardy banana plants (Musa basjoo) and groups of tree ferns (Dicksonia antarctica) add tropical energy. Tetrapanax papyrifer, the rice-paper plant, is another large-leaved exotic shrub thriving in the park, growing alongside fine specimens of Fatsia japonica. Other shrubs I notice doing well include, Elaeagnus, Hydrangea, Hypericum, Mahonia, Ruscus aculeatus, Sarcococca, Pittosporum, and Weigelia. Hardy perennials such as Acanthus, Brunnera ‘Jack Frost’, Vinca, ferns, hellebores, and Liriope muscari thrive in the gloom. The raised goldfish pond is covered by an assortment of fern species.

Geranium ‘Rozanne’ is still bears many large, purple flowers. November is not just about blooms. A bed of Japanese anemones has been allowed to form seedheads, and the display is as attractive as the flowers that preceded them. The knobbed tops resemble a cloud of Victorian hatpins floating over the clumps on stiff stems.

The streetlights come on. It is dusk and time for me to leave.

If you visit Postman’s Park and it feels strangely familiar, you might have watched the 2004 film ‘Closer’ starring Julia Roberts, Jude Law, Natalie Portman, and Clive Owen. Parts of the film were shot in and around Postman’s Park, and a key twist in the plot turns around the memorial plaque to Alice Ayers.