The London Park Dedicated To Everyday Heroes Who Died Saving Others: Postman’s Park
- dthholland
- Sep 11, 2020
- 5 min read
Updated: 5 days ago
Tucked just a stone’s throw from the Museum of London, where the modern office blocks of the City of London give way to quieter streets, you’ll find one of the capital’s most understated gardens: Postman’s Park. It’s a modest green space, but one with a unique legacy. Unlike many of London’s grand monuments to kings, generals or industrialists, this one is devoted entirely to the bravery of ordinary people — people who, often with no training and no obligation, gave their lives to save someone else.
Postman’s Park gets its name from the workers of the nearby old General Post Office who would come here to eat lunch or take a moment’s rest. But what makes the park so memorable is the Memorial to Heroic Self-Sacrifice, a long, sheltered wall filled with ceramic plaques that quietly tell some of the most touching and tragic stories you’re likely to find anywhere in London.
A Victorian Vision of Everyday Heroism
The idea for the memorial dates back to 1887, the year of Queen Victoria’s Golden Jubilee. It was the brainchild of George Frederic Watts, a Victorian painter and sculptor with a strong belief in public moral education. Watts wanted to honour people whose acts of heroism might otherwise be forgotten — not soldiers or public figures, but ordinary men, women, and children who lost their lives in the service of others.
At the time, his idea wasn’t warmly received. It took over a decade before the concept was revived by Henry Gamble, the vicar of nearby St Botolph’s Aldersgate. The church needed funds to preserve Postman’s Park, which stood on the former churchyard, and Gamble believed that a memorial to self-sacrifice would draw public interest and support.
Watts agreed, and work finally began in 1898. The memorial was installed within a simple 50-foot-long wooden loggia — a covered gallery — designed by architect Ernest George. It was intended to hold 120 ceramic tablets, created by famed Arts and Crafts potter William De Morgan. When it was unveiled in 1900, only four plaques had been completed and fixed in place.
Piecemeal Progress and Artistic Challenges
George Watts passed away in 1904, and the responsibility for the memorial’s development fell to his wife, Mary Watts. She was already deeply involved in curating her husband’s legacy at the Watts Gallery and overseeing the beautiful Watts Mortuary Chapel in Surrey. Despite her dedication, the momentum of the project slowed.
By 1906, De Morgan had left ceramics altogether to focus on writing novels. That left the work of producing further tiles to the commercial ceramics firm Royal Doulton. But the tiles produced by Royal Doulton lacked the delicacy and aesthetic charm of De Morgan’s work, and Mary Watts herself reportedly felt they didn’t quite fit with the memorial’s original style. Nonetheless, work continued, albeit sporadically.
Between 1900 and 1931, a total of 53 plaques were installed — less than half of the planned 120. The last pre-war plaque was placed in 1931, after which the memorial fell into dormancy.
It wasn’t until 2009 that a new plaque was added — the first in 78 years — commemorating Leigh Pitt, a print technician who died rescuing a child from drowning in a canal in 2007. The revival of interest in the memorial was supported by the Diocese of London, and the addition was created in a style sympathetic to the earlier tiles.
Who Are the People on the Wall?
Each of the plaques on the wall offers a brief but poignant snapshot — a name, a date, and the act that cost someone their life. It’s a remarkable exercise in restraint and clarity. Some of the stories are dramatic, others quietly devastating.
Here are just a few of the individuals commemorated on the wall:
Mary Rogers – A stewardess aboard the Stella, she gave up her lifebelt to a passenger during a shipwreck in 1899. Her plaque reads: “Self-sacrifice in saving others from the wreck of the Stella, March 30, 1899.”
Henry Bristow, aged 8 – Died in 1890 after rescuing his little sister from a house fire. His plaque notes how he refrained from calling for help until she was safe, even as his own clothes caught alight.
Sarah Smith – A pantomime artist who died in 1863 from burns sustained while trying to extinguish flames on her friend’s dress during a theatre accident.
Alice Ayres – Perhaps one of the most famous names on the wall. She saved her employer’s children from a fire by dropping them from a window to safety, before falling herself. She died from her injuries.
George Stephen Funnell – A soldier who died in 1900 after saving a workman during a fire on London’s West End. He managed to rescue one but died trying to save another.
Leigh Pitt – The most recent addition, his plaque reminds visitors that acts of heroism still occur. In 2007, he drowned after jumping into a canal to save a young boy who had fallen in. The boy survived.
The Tiles Themselves
The memorial’s ceramic plaques were crafted in three main phases:
The first 24 tiles, made by William De Morgan between 1900 and 1905, were placed in the central row of the memorial. These are notable for their graceful lettering and pale glazes.
In 1908, another 24 plaques were installed — this time made by Royal Doulton. These occupy the row directly beneath the original De Morgan tiles and are stylistically different.
Additional plaques were installed sporadically between 1919 and 1931, with one final plaque by Fred Passenger in 1931 replicating De Morgan’s style more closely.
Today, the memorial contains 54 plaques. Two rows on the memorial wall remain empty — a silent reminder that space remains for future names, should society choose to continue the tradition.
A Quiet Place with Loud Stories
Postman’s Park remains one of central London’s more contemplative corners. Visitors often stumble upon it by chance — it’s easy to miss, tucked between modern buildings and the bustle of the old financial district. But for those who take the time to stop and read, the park becomes a place of quiet reflection.
There’s no grand spectacle here. No fanfare. Just a row of ceramic tiles under a wooden shelter, telling stories that are easy to overlook — but all the more powerful for it.
And for those who think about legacy, there’s something humbling in knowing that 66 blank spaces remain, waiting for the names of future heroes — or tragedies — depending on how one sees it.
Visiting Postman’s Park
Location: King Edward Street, EC1A 7BT
Nearest Tube: St Paul’s (Central Line)
Entry: Free
Accessibility: Step-free access available; benches and open space for quiet sitting
Whether you’re a local Londoner or a curious traveller, Postman’s Park is well worth a short detour. It’s not just a park — it’s a memorial to unrecorded courage, a place where the small stories matter, and where the city’s heartbeat can still be heard through the lives of those who put others first.
A separate plaque adjacent to the memorial features a quote from George Frederic Watts: ‘The material prosperity of a nation is not an abiding possession: the deeds of its people are.’
It also quotes the Bible:
‘Greater love hath no man than this, that he lay down his life for his friends.’ John 15:13
