The story
Welcome to Brunswick Square. As you stand here in the leafy heart of Bloomsbury, you are at a crossroads of deep sorrow and extraordinary hope. Look toward the handsome building of the Foundling Museum.
This site was once the Foundling Hospital, established in 1739 by Captain Thomas Coram. Coram was a retired sea captain who was so appalled by the sight of abandoned infants dying on the streets of London that he spent seventeen years lobbying the King to create a sanctuary for them. Step closer to the museum’s entrance.
Inside these walls lies one of the most moving collections in the world. In the eighteenth century, mothers who were unable to care for their babies—often due to extreme poverty or social stigma—would bring them here. Because the hospital was overwhelmed, admission was often decided by a literal draw of colored balls from a bag.
If a child was accepted, the mother would leave a "token." These were tiny, everyday objects: a silver coin, a carved nut, a customized button, or a scrap of patterned fabric pinned to the baby’s clothes. These weren't just trinkets; they were unique identifiers.
The mothers kept a matching piece, a desperate hope that one day their fortunes would change and they could return to claim their child. Most never did, leaving these heartbreaking "billets" as the only physical connection between a mother and her lost baby. But this place wasn't just a site of tragedy.
It was also the birthplace of the public art gallery. The painter William Hogarth and the composer George Frideric Handel were early governors. They realized that to keep the hospital running, they needed the support of the wealthy.
Handel conducted annual benefit performances of his Messiah in the chapel, and Hogarth encouraged leading artists to donate works, turning the hospital into a fashionable destination for London’s elite. Now, walk just a few steps north to the expansive greenery of Coram’s Fields. This seven-acre park occupies the very land where the hospital’s original buildings once stood.
Take note of the sign at the gate. It carries a rule that is unique in London: No adult may enter these grounds unless accompanied by a child. This is a living tribute to Thomas Coram’s legacy.
In a city where children are often shushed or sidelined, this space belongs entirely to them. As you listen to the sounds of play echoing from behind the gates, remember that for nearly three centuries, this small corner of Bloomsbury has been a fiercely guarded sanctuary, proving that even in the busiest of cities, the smallest voices are the ones that matter most.