Hannah Griggs

In 2016, a chance conversation changed what we knew about the history of Tower Bridge. 

One of our Welcome Hosts overheard a visitor mentioning that her grandmother had once worked at the Bridge. That grandmother was Hannah Griggs — and through her family’s memories, a remarkable story came back into view.

Born in 1888 to an unmarried mother, Hannah’s early life would likely have been shaped by hard work and limited opportunity. Like many working-class girls at the turn of the 20th century, she probably entered domestic service in her early teens, beginning as a kitchen maid and learning the demanding skills required to run a Victorian household.

By the early 1900s, Hannah had become a cook — a position of trust and responsibility — and came to work at Tower Bridge for Bridge Master Captain Richard Wakeham and his family. She worked in the Bridgemaster’s House, the red brick and stone residence that still stands on the southern approach to the Bridge today.

As cook, Hannah would have been at the centre of daily life in the household. The Bridgemaster’s residence was both a family home and an operational headquarters, and her role required organisation, stamina and skill. While the engineers and firemen laboured below among the great steam engines, domestic life continued above — meals prepared, fires lit, routines maintained.

Hannah was part of the hidden workforce that sustained one of London’s most recognisable landmarks. Though the Bridge is often celebrated as an engineering triumph, it was also a workplace and a home.

Like many women of her generation, Hannah left paid employment when she married. She wed William Howard, a railway fire fighter, and moved to Hornchurch, Essex, to a house charmingly named Cosy Nook.

Together they had two daughters: Elsie, born in 1915, and Lillian, born in 1927. Hannah’s working life at Tower Bridge became a family story — passed down but largely unknown beyond her descendants.

She died in the mid-20th century, and for decades her connection to the Bridge remained a private memory.

The survival of a sepia photograph — treasured by her granddaughter, Susan Belcher — helped bring Hannah’s story back into the public eye. In the portrait, she appears poised and self-possessed, wearing a white lace dress.

Today, that once small and fragile image has been enlarged and displayed in the Engine Rooms exhibition, ensuring that Hannah’s contribution is recognised alongside the engineers, labourers and bridge masters who kept Tower Bridge operating.

Her name is now part of the Bridge’s recorded history, and her story stands as a reminder that behind every great structure are the lives of ordinary people whose work made it function.