London Living: “Pancakes and fritters” say the bells of St Peter’s

After taking great interest in the wrong Church, we found St Peter-at-Cornhill which to our dismay isn’t open to the public.

However, rising above the surrounding buildings, it is very pretty.

Even though it’s not regularily open to the public, it’s great to see that it’s still in daily use. There is nothing sadder than an empty disused Church, rotting away to nothing.

“Wren often only added details around the top of his churches – hence such a variation of spires and towers. 

St Peter was given a small copper dome with a small “spirelet” surmounting it. The rest of the church is very much box-like from the outside. The interiors have been heavily Victorianised with dark pews and panelling and stained glass added to all the windows. Some attempts have been made in recent years to “lighten” the church – as Wren’s designs almost never contained stained glass – but it still remains quite a dark and dingy church compared to many of its contemporaries.” Credit

St Peters is situated near the Leadenhall Market (please excuse the blown out photo) dating back to the 14th Century, standing on the centre of Roman London. It’s beautiful, has some great pubs & was used in the filming of Harry Potter.


“Oranges and Lemons” say the bells of St Clement’s

“Bull’s eyes and targets” say the bells of St Margaret’s.

“Pokers and tongs” say the bells of St John’s.

“Pancakes and fritters” say the bells of St Peter’s.

“Two sticks and an apple” say the bells of Whitechapel.

“Old Father Baldpate” say the slow bells of Aldgate.

“Maids in white aprons ” say the bells of St Katharine’s.

“Brickbats and tiles” say the bells of St Giles’.

“Kettles and pans” say the bells of St Anne’s.

“You owe me five farthings” say the bells of St Martin’s.

“When will you pay me?” say the bells of Old Bailey.

“When I grow rich” say the bells of Shoreditch.

“Pray when will that be?” say the bells of Stepney.

“I’m sure I don’t know” says the great bell of

Here comes a candle to light you to bed,

Chip chop, chip chop, the last man’s dead.

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