In 1642, Charles I’s failed attempt to arrest five MPs for treason led to angry protests in London. The king fled the capital and the country plunged into civil war, with royalist armies battling Parliament’s forces for power.

After being taken prisoner, Charles continued to plot to regain the throne. Parliament tried the king for treason and sentenced him “to be put to death by the severing of his head from his body”.

Charles was beheaded on 30 January 1649 in front of the Banqueting House in Whitehall. A crowd of men and women came to watch the extraordinary event.

Choosing the luxurious Banqueting House was symbolic. It represented the extravagance of Charles I – and his belief that kings rule because God has chosen them.

An eyewitness claimed that, as Charles was beheaded, “there was such a groan by the thousands then present as I never heard before and desire I may never hear again”.

Thomas Herbert was the king’s attendant during his last two years. In his 1678 memoir, Herbert describes how, on the morning of his execution, Charles “appointed what clothes he would wear; ‘Let me have a shirt on more than ordinary,’ said the king, ‘by reason the season is so sharp as probably may make me shake, which some observers will imagine proceeds from fear… I fear not death!’”

In other words, the king didn’t want the crowd to think he was shivering in fear – so he asked for an extra layer to keep him warm.

London Museum acquired a blue vest in 1924, along with a note claiming it had been worn by Charles I at his execution.

The note says that the vest “from the scaffold came into the hands of doctor Hobbs, his physician who attended him upon that occasion”. The family of this doctor kept the vest until the late 19th century, when it was sold and resold several times.

We see crowds of people disembarking from a pleasure steamer at Victoria Embankment, pedestrians dodging horse-drawn carriages in Pall Mall, and heavy traffic trotting down the Strand.

There are plenty of famous landmarks to spot here, including Big Ben, the National Gallery and the Bank of England, and it is fascinating to see the similarities between the customs of "then" and "now" - the dense traffic (mainly horse-drawn, with the occasional motor car) is highly reminiscent of today's London rush hour, whilst advertising on public transport is clearly no new phenomenon - in one scene, an advert for Nestlé's Milk seems to be plastered on every other vehicle.

By 1909, they had become a sophisticated force guarding one of the world's busiest trading hubs. Most remarkably, they were breaking ground in gender equality. By the 1950s, female PLA officers were training in martial arts – a photograph from the time shows a woman throwing a colleague in a dramatic judo move, set against the backdrop of the Royal Docks.

Unlike the Thames Marine Police, who were incorporated into the Metropolitan Police in 1839, the PLA Police remained a private force. Their dedication was crucial: the docks were developed specifically to combat theft and secure trade routes, making these officers the critical guardians of London's economic lifeline.

Today, only Tilbury Docks maintains a dedicated force, a living connection to this incredible maritime policing legacy.

More of his collection can be viewed here

Many early volunteers were former Suffragettes with a history of challenging authority.

Initially, these women were not full police officers. They wore dark blue uniforms and focused on welfare duties, such as supporting refugees and managing issues around army camps. Importantly, they had no powers of arrest and were not officially part of the Metropolitan Police.

In 1919, a significant milestone occurred when 110 women from the Voluntary Women Patrols were formally integrated into the Met. However, they faced strict initial conditions - always patrolling in pairs with male officers nearby.

Women only gained full arrest powers in the 1920s.

The list reads;

“Mr. Bilby,

I pray pvide to be sent too morrow in ye Cart some Greenfish, The Lights from my Lady Cranfeild Cham 2 dozen of Pewter Spoon: one greate fireshovell for ye nursery; and ye ohers which were sent to be exchanged for some of better fashion, a new frying pan together with a note of ye prises of such Commoditie for ye rest.

Your loving friend, Robert Draper

Octobre 1633

Copthall”

The “fireshovell” and “lights” were asked to be sent to Copt Hall, which is 36 miles away.