Monthly Archives: February 2023

9th Year of Blogging – A Year in Review

The end of February marks the time when I first started the blog back in 2014, so this February is the completion of 9 years, a point I did not expect to get anywhere near.

The aim of the blog has always been the same, to provide an incentive to locate, and a means of recording, my father’s photos of London, and occasionally further afield, and to act as an incentive to explore somewhere that I had probably taken for granted for so many years.

What has been wonderful is that so many people regularly read what started out as a rather selfish endeavour, and I would really like to thank the thousands who have subscribed to the blog. It goes out every Sunday to a subscriber list I would not have considered possible when I started.

For me, the blog has also acted rather like a diary. I have never had much luck keeping a diary, with various attempts usually ending in mid January, however looking back on old blog posts, the text and photos act as a reminder of what was happening in the wider world at the time, and what I was doing.

So, for today’s post, a review of the blog from the end of February 2022 to 2023.

Walks

Thank you to everyone who came on one of my walks last year. Not only is it brilliant to meet readers, and take the blog posts out into the streets, the money from ticket sales has been a real help with covering the costs of the blog.

I am planning to add some new walks for 2023, currently working on Limehouse, Bermondsey and / or Clerkenwell, and I will be providing details of these and my existing walks in a future blog post.

I put them on Eventbrite first, so for early notification, give my Eventbrite account a follow here.

London Institutions at Risk

As usual, change is continuous in London, and two London institutions closed during the year.

Simpson’s Tavern in Ball Court in the City – the oldest chophouse in London closed after they were locked out by their landlord.

I have written a post about Simpson’s Tavern, based around a couple of photos my father took of the establishment in 1947, including the following:

Simpson's Tavern

Simpson’s are challenging the actions of their landlord, and their website has links and updates on their appeal.

Pollock’s Toy Museum in Scala Street also closed due to a change in ownership of the building (read their statement here).

My father had taken a couple of photos of Pollock’s Toy Museum in the 1980s:

Pollock's Toy Museum

And it was on my long list of potential posts.

Pollock's Toy Museum

Hopefully, a new location will be found for the museum.

Whilst change is inevitable, and essential as change is what has made London what it is, the loss of small, unique institutions, and the loss of local character risks turning the city into a place where all the streets are the same.

My greatest concern for London is not so much change, but the “blandification” of the city, where there is no unique local character, no small, unique shops and institutions, streets lined with the same architecture and the same major brands.

No doubt the coming year will throw up more challenges, and it will be interesting to see what happens with the planned redevelopment of the old London Weekend Television Studios on the South Bank and of much of Liverpool Street Station.

Now for a quick run through of the year with a sample of the posts from each month.

February 2022

I have many themes when taking photos of London, one of which is taking photos of the street news stands across London. I have been taking photos of these for years and included in the last few year reviews.

They provide a reminder of significant events, and if the last few years is anything to go by, the news seems to keep coming thick and fast.

I also wonder how long these will be a feature of London’s streets. As well as telephone boxes, they are part of an older technology, where most people now probably get their news from the Internet.

The days of everyone on a train or underground train reading the evening newspaper on their way home are long gone. The mobile phone is now the entertainment device of choice.

The Evening Standard is the one remaining evening newspaper in London. The Evening News has been off the streets for decades, and you originally had to buy these evening papers, where now the Evening Standard is free, trying to use advertising as a way to generate revenue.

At the end of February 2022, the news of Putin’s invasion of Kyiv was across the streets of London:

Evening Standard

March 2022

In March 2022, I went to find the site of the following photo of Pennyfields, Poplar, from the 1920’s publication “Wonderful London”:

Poplar

The photo is titled “Gloom and Grime in the East End: Chinatown”, and has the following description: “A view of Pennyfields, which runs from West India Dock Road to Poplar High Street. There is a Chinese restaurant on the corner. A few Chinese and European clothes are all that are to be seen in the daytime”. The location is very different now.

In March I also completed the New River Walk, following the route of the original New River, which still carries water from Hertfordshire to provide drinking water for London.

The walk included the stretch where the New Rover is carried over the M25:

New River

April 2022

April saw another visit to Poplar to find the site of the following photo “Welcome to the Isle of Dogs” in Prestons Road:

Prestons Street Isle of Dogs

In April, the Evening Standard was warning that “Shoppers Turn Off The Spending Taps”, and the article on the right of the front page advised that there was “No question of Boris quitting over parties”:

Evening Standard

May 2022

In May I was in Greenwich to find “The Sad Fate of Two Greenwich Murals”. One has been lost, however the “Changing the Picture”, which was created for the El Salvador Solidarity Campaign in 1985 is still there, but looking very much faded from the vibrant colours in my father’s photo from the time the mural was completed:

Greenwich Mural

May also saw significant resumption in air travel after the previous two years of lockdown, however this resulted in the almost predictable headlines about airport travel chaos:

Evening Standard

June 2022

In June, I was fortunate to get access to see the Westminster School Gateway, which my father had photographed in 1949:

Westminster School

The Westminster School Gateway is a historic feature of the school for two main reasons. The age and purpose of the gateway, and the inscriptions of pupil names that cover almost all the stones of which the gateway has been built.

In June I also had a walk along part of the Greenwich Peninsula, another area of London undergoing significant change, and the following 1980s photo is from my post Lovells Wharf and Enderby House, Greenwich Peninsula:

Greenwich Peninsula

The 21st of June was the first day of the country wide rail strikes, which coincided with a strike on the London Underground. I was in London on the day, and the following photo shows part of the closed platforms at Waterloo Station:

Rail Strike

Union members outside Waterloo Station:

Rail Strike

Closed underground station:

Rail Strike

The Queen’s Platinum Jubilee was also celebrated in early June, as reported in the Evening Standard:

Evening Standard

The Evening Standard reported that Cabinet Minister Sajid Javid was telling rail unions to “Grow Up And Drop Rail Strikes Now”:

Evening Standard

And the Standard also reported that the Government’s Rwanda plans were hit by “Fresh Disarray”:

Evening Standard

The Evening Standard on the 21st of June reported that London was in lockdown 2.0 due to the rail strikes, and that “Boris Braces Britain For Months of Misery as RMT Pledges More Action”:

Evening Standard

July 2022

In July I was back to a location I have featured in a couple of previous posts – Pickle Herring Street, but this time to visit Pickle Herring Stairs, one of the old stairs down to the river foreshore which have been lost in redevelopment of the area:

Pickle Herring Stairs

And despite earlier assurances in the Evening Standard, Boris Johnson had resigned and there was now a race for No. 10:

Evening Standard

And “Truss and Rishi Lock Horns As Tory Race Hots Up”:

Evening Standard

And Chelsea probably made a good decision:

Evening Standard

August 2022

In August I went to find the site of an old cemetery which had been cleared as part of the construction of the District Railway, in my post “Cloak Lane, St John the Baptist, the Walbrook and the Circle Line”:

Cloak Lane

The summer of 2022 was exceptionally dry, and London’s parks and open spaces were not looking that green. In August I took the following photo in Greenwich showing very little green grass across the park:

Greenwich

September 2022

In September I went to East Ham where my Great Grandfather lived for a few years.

He became a fireman in 1881, joining the Metropolitan Fire Brigade (MFB) at Rotherhithe, south east London, later moving to West Ham in 1886 as a Fire Escape man, where he remained for ten and a half years. At the time the MFB recruited only ex seamen and naval personnel as the Brigade was run on Naval discipline with a requirement for familiarity of climbing rigging and working at heights.

In 1896 he became the Superintendent of the new East Ham Fire Station, and the following photo shows the site of the Fire Station in Wakefield Street, East Ham:

East Ham Fire Station

The Queen died on the 8th of September, and the Evening Standard reported on her return to London:

Evening Standard

Continuing a tradition that I think started with the death of Princess Diana, people left masses of flowers to mark the death of the Queen. An area had been set aside for this in Green Park, and I went to take some photos:

Flowers in Green Park
Flowers in Green Park
Flowers in Green Park
Flowers in Green Park
Flowers in Green Park
Flowers in Green Park
Flowers in Green Park
Flowers in Green Park

There were also people camped out along the Mall in order to get prime position to see the funeral procession:

Queen's Funeral
Queen's Funeral
Queen's Funeral

And the queue to see the Queen’s coffin stretched far along the south bank of the Thames. View by Lambeth Bridge:

Queen's Funeral

South Bank:

Queen's Funeral

Bankside:

Queen's Funeral

October 2022

In October I went to find where my father worked for the London Electricity Board in the late 1940s and early 1950s in Pratt Street, Camden, where he had taken a series of photos looking at the view from the roof of the building:

Pratt Street Camden

In October I also went for a wonderful walk along the Broomway, off Foulness in Essex, said to be one of the country’s most dangerous footpaths. The London connection is that this could have been the site of London’s Third Airport in the early 1970s.

Broomway

And in October, the Evening Standard was reporting that Liz Truss, who had won the Tory leadership election, was telling the Tories that she would “Get Us Through The Tempest”:

Evening Standard

The war in Ukraine had largely disappeared from the headlines, however this headline brought back memories of the Cold War:

Evening Standard

November 2022

In November, I wrote about a project that I would not have done if I had not been writing the blog – we followed the route of the 13th century funeral procession of Eleanor of Castile, from Harby in Lincolnshire where she had died, to her final resting place in Westminster Abbey.

It was a really fascinating journey, and one I would not have done if it was not for the blog. The following photo from the post Eleanor Crosses – Grantham, Stamford and Geddington, shows the best preserved of the crosses in Geddington:

Geddinton Eleanor Cross

Whilst in London there was the threat of rail strikes for Christmas:

Evening Standard

December 2022

The BBC’s Ghost Story for Christmas was part of my childhood, with the M.R. James stories being a theme of both TV programmes and reading. In December I went to Eton Wick Chapel near Windsor to find his rather modest grave:

M.R. James

And also in December I went on my annual visit to walk around the construction site for HS2 in Euston:

HS2

There seems to be considerable interest in HS2 and Euston as it is one my most read annual posts. It also seems to be a rather marmite project – it is either the best project to free up capacity on the existing rail network between London and Birmingham and improve connectivity to the north, or a waste of a vast amount of money.

It will be interesting to see how it survives and how far the original plans will be cut back, as there is already talk of reducing the numbers of trains and reducing the highest speed they will be able to run.

January 2022

For the past nine years, the majority of blog posts have been about London, north of the river, with the exception of along the south bank of the river from Lambeth to Greenwich. I have loads of photos of south London to revisit and in January I started to address the balance between north and south London with a visit to find Macs Pie and Mash shop in Peckham:

Macs Pie and Mash

And that was the ninth year of the blog.

As well as learning so much through researching and writing the posts, it has been wonderful to learn far more from the many comments on the blog and the emails I receive provide more detail on many of the subjects covered.

For the tenth year, I will have many more posts on south London, some lengthy posts on a couple of the London Docks which I have not written about so far, posts about London’s impact on the rest of the country, and much more, along with hopefully a couple of special blog related projects.

Thanks for reading, thanks for subscribing, and perhaps I will see you on a walk later in the year.

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Ivy Street – A Hoxton Mystery

The photo for this week’s post was taken by my father on the 31st of May, 1953 in Hoxton Street, looking down Ivy Street. Above the entrance to the street is a banner which reads “Ivy Street send their greetings to the Queen”, and along the street there are flags and decorations that run the length of the visible section of the street. The photo was taken a couple of days before the Coronation of Elizabeth II on the 2nd of June 1953

Ivy Street

This should have been such an easy location to find, however I did have my doubts and the building on the right of the entrance to the street was a bit of a mystery when I compared with the same scene today, as shown in the following photo:

Ivy Street

Where there was a butcher in 1953, today is a shop where you can apparently buy Hoxton’s best kebab. The building on the right looked pre-war, and a view of the complete terrace of which the kebab shop is at the end, further confuses:

Ivy Street

The terrace does not look of post-war design or construction. The end of terrace part with the kebab shop has the same brickwork, windows, decoration etc. as the rest of the terrace. It does not look like a recent addition to an existing terrace.

The butchers shop on the corner in my father’s photo does looks relatively new. Clean brickwork when compared with the building on the left of the entrance to Ivy Street. I did wonder whether the butcher’s shop was a temporary build following wartime bomb damage, however although there was much bomb damage in the area, the LCC Bomb Damage Maps do not show any damage to this corner building.

My father took a second photo, a short walk down Ivy Street, and although Ivy Street has changed considerably, there are a couple of features which confirm the location.

Ivy Street

The same view today:

Ivy Street

The following extract from the Ordnance Survey map was published in 1954, but surveyed in 1953, so the same year as my father’s photo. Ivy Street can be seen running left to right across the centre of the map. Hoxton Street is on the right, and at the junction of Ivy and Hoxton streets can be seen a building with numbers 241 and 243. The butcher’s in my father’s photo is number 241, and with 243 it must have been a double width building. The kebab shop today is number 241  (‘Reproduced with the permission of the National Library of Scotland“).

Ivy Street

There are a number of features which confirm the location and can be traced today, which I have outlined in the photo below, starting the with red circle which surrounds the sign used in the 1950s for a school. As can be seen in the above map, there is a large school to the right of Ivy Street (in the direction of the photo). The school also has a playground on the opposite side of the street, and I have also marked these on the photo, with walls aligning with where the school and playground should have been.

Ivy Street

Further down the street, I have marked a feature in a blue circle. This is on the only building in the street that can be seen in the two photos:

Ivy Street

The feature in the blue circle is the decorative feature on the edge of the building, and the following comparison photos are an extract from the 1953 photo and 2023 photo showing the feature:

Ivy Street

In the above 1953 extract you can just see a sign protruding from the building at top right. In my 2023 photo, the fixings for this sign are still on the wall.

The sign was a pub sign, as this building was the Queen Adelaide at number 54 Ivy Street. The PH in the OS map extract also confirms the location of the pub.

It is hard to date the pub. It does not appear to be that old as the earliest reference I can find date to the 1890s, when the pub seems to have been host to some rather strange competitions, as illustrated with the following from the Sporting Life on the 28th November 1891:

“BIRD SINGING – A LINNET handicap will take place on Nov 29th at 1.15, three pairs of birds, 6s prizes. Also a chaffinch handicap at 8.30 for 6s, three pair. On Saturday night, at 8.30 sharp, a chaffinch handicap. First prize, leg of mutton, second, shoulder of mutton; third, shoulder of mutton,; fourth, shoulder of mutton. open for all comers. Don’t forget – The Queen Adelaide, Ivy-street, Hoxton (five minutes’ walk from Haggerston or Shoreditch Station.” 

And on the 22nd January, 1892:

“BIRD SINGING – LINNET HANDICAP. On the evening of the 17th inst. Mr. Ben Wilton, host of the Queen Adelaide, Ivy-street, Hoxton gave a handsome dinner service to be contested for in an open handicap, which was witnessed by nearly 150 persons. the coveted prize was won by Mr. George Everitt, whose bird achieved 4 score 10, Mr. Chilcott’s bird doing 4 score 6. The remainder of the evening was enjoyably spent, and brought to a most successful issue by a hearty vote of thanks to the popular proprietor.”

The Queen Adelaide closed in the 1960s and the building was acquired by Hoxton Community Projects. It is now home to the Ivy Street Family Centre, and there is a good photo of the old pub on their website here.

In the 1953 photos, it is just possible to see the street has a slight curve to the right. The alignment of the street is the same today, however just after what was the turning into Ivy Walk (after the pub) is the Arden Estate:

Ivy Street

The following extract from one of the 1953 photos shows roughly the same view (I was just standing to the left of the street where I should have been on the right). The pub is on the left in both photos, and where the Arden Estate now stands, was a row of terrace houses:

Ivy Street

Reading reports of the activities in the pub over the years and seeing the photos of the decorated terrace street does illustrate the sense of community that must have existed in these streets, before being swept away with post-war rebuilding.

A clue as to when the buildings on Ivy Street at the junction with Hoxton Street were rebuilt are these stones on the wall of the building on the left of Ivy Street, indicating an original build date of 1842 (the building on the left of my father’s photo), and a rebuild date of 1963.

Ivy Street

What I cannot find is whether this rebuild date also applied to the building on the right – the butcher in my father’s 1953 photo, and the kebab shop in my 2023 photo.

On the right of the Ivy Lane photos is a school, now the Hoxton Garden Primary School, which can be seen above the tall brick wall on the right of old and new photos of Ivy Street:

Hoxton Garden primary School

So, this is the correct location for my father’s photo. It could be that the new terrace on the right was built in the early 1960s when the building on the left was constructed.

What is interesting is the choice of construction material (brick) and design, both of which are broadly in line with the type of terrace houses that would have been in this part of London. If only far more post war rebuilding was as complimentary to the rest of the street in which they were built.

As with almost any London street, there were plenty of other interesting buildings close to where Ivy Street joined Hoxton Street, and the area will be a subject for a future post (I have already explored part of Hoxton in this post).

Almost opposite Ivy Street is this building – “Office For The Relief Of The Poor”:

Offices for the relief of the poor, Hoxton

This was the parish relief office which was part of the St. Leonard’s, Shoreditch workhouse complex that stretched from Hoxton Street back to Kingsland Road. Many of the buildings are now part of St. Leonard’s Hospital.

Opposite Ivy Street is the old Unicorn pub, now a Papa Johns Pizza shop:

Unicorn Hoxton

The Unicorn closed around 2008, and dates back to the very early 19th century. The first reference I can find to the pub is a report in the Morning Chronicle on the 9th of November, 1819, when there was a “DARING ROBBERY – Saturday evening, a little after dusk, some villains robbed the Unicorn public-house, Hoxton, by getting in at the one pair of bed-room window; they carried off a large quantity of wearing apparel, and a five pound Bank of England note.”

The name is unusual and does not seem to have any reference to Hoxton. There were so many pubs in London in the 19th century, and each pub would have wanted their own distinctive identity and name, so people could recognise the pub, and know which was their local and where they would meet friends.

As many people were illiterate at the time, graphical pub signs helped with the identification of a pub, and with the Unicorn, there is the added benefit of a carved unicorn and shield between the windows on the upper floor, leaving no doubt as to the name of the pub, even if you could not read the pub name.

Unicorn Hoxton

A very short walk away is another closed pub – the Green Man:

Green Man Hoxton

The Green Man appears to date from the 18th century. The earliest reference I found was in 1801, when the pub is used as a reference for a location, so was already a known landmark.

The article from the “Oracle and Daily Advertiser” on the 5th of February 1801 reads: “WHEREAS EDWARD SHORT left about two years ago SIX BOXES in the care and possession of Thomas Newman, at No. 1, opposite the Sign of the Green Man, Hoxton Town; if the said Edward Short does not remove said Boxes within fourteen days from the 5th of February 1801, they will be sold.”

The article shows how important visual references to a location were, when many people could not read and pub signs were key local reference points. I wonder if Edward Short did reclaim his six boxes?

There is the ironwork that once held the pub sign, still projecting from the Green Man. It has the hand symbol of the Ind Coope brewery, and the date 1856. This may have been when the pub was rebuilt, however I cannot find any confirmation of this, although strangely there are hundreds of news reports mentioning the pub in the 1840s and 1860, but very few in the 1850s, so perhaps it was closed for a while and rebuilt.

Green Man Hoxton

When I take photos of ordinary streets, away from the landmarks that are a common subject for photos, I often get a curious glance, and a look at what I am photographing – the person probably trying to work out what there is of interest that prompts me to take a photo.

Hoxton was the first time that I have been glared at by a cat, who did not seem to happy to be the subject of a photo:

Hoxton Street cat

When I was researching the photo of Ivy Street, I had nagging doubts over whether it was the right location, despite a large sign over the entrance to the street with the name.

It was just that the building on the right hand corner of the entrance today, looked pre-war, and very different to the building in my father’s photo.

Having now walked along the street, there are many other features that confirm it is the right location, and I suspect the brick terrace from the corner of Ivy Street and along Hoxton Street was probably built in the 1960s, so the mystery is not quite solved, however the choice of brick and a terrace design that would have been in keeping with much of the street has helped preserve the character of this part of Hoxton.

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Admiral’s House, Plaques and Cholera in Hampstead

In last Sunday’s post, I complained about the lack of sunlight when I was taking photos of Peckham. The day that post was published was a glorious February day, bright sunlight and clear blue sky, so I took the opportunity for a walk around Hampstead, starting with Admiral’s House, the location of one of my father’s photos from 1951.

Admiral's House

The same view in February 2023:

Admiral's House

The view of Admiral’s House is much the same, however if you look to the right of my father’s photo, there is a brick wall and a rather nice lamp. These are not visible in my photo.

The reason being that both photos were taken a few feet along a walkway that follows the brick wall on the right. In the 72 years between the two photos, a large amount of small trees and bushes have grown up alongside the wall, so I could not get into the exact same position as my father when he took the 1951 photo:

Admiral's House

The lamp on the end of the wall is still there, it looks the same design, so I assume it is the same lamp, however there are some shiny washers and bolts now holding the mount to the wall, so these have been replaced:

Admiral's House

Admiral’s House is a short walk from Hampstead Underground Station. North along Hampstead Grove, then turn left into Admiral’s Walk, where there is a large sign on the corner, helpfully pointing to Admiral’s House:

Admiral's House

The house appears to date from the early 18th century, when it was built for a Mr. Charles Keys. At that time, the building was known as the Golden Spike, after the Masonic Lodge that met in the building between 1730 and 1745.

Admiral’s House can be seen in Rocque’s 1746 map, shown circled in red in the following extract, where, for reference, I have also circled Fenton House in blue, with the distinctive squared shape of its garden between Fenton and Admiral’s Houses.

Admiral's House

From 1775 to 1810 the house was occupied by Fountain North, apparently a former naval captain. North changed the name of the house to ‘The Grove’.

Fountain North is a rather unusual name, and I did find some basic information about him. He died on the 21st of Spetember, 1810 in Hastings. The brief line recording his death in newspapers at the time states that he was of Rougham Hall in Norfolk. There is no mention of Hampstead. I could only connect this record with the Fountain North who lived in Hampstead, when I found the report of the death of his wife, Arabella North, who died in Weymouth in 1832, and the record states that she was “the widow of Fountain North, of Rougham Norfolk, and Hampstead, Middlesex”.

It was Fountain North who constructed the quarter deck on the roof of the house, and it was from here that he apparently fired a cannon to celebrate naval victories, however I cannot find any references to this from the time, so difficult to say whether or not it is true.

This is where there has been confusion with an Admiral Barton, a genuine Admiral who lived between 1715 and 1795, who has been alleged to have built Admiral’s House, but in reality had nothing to do with the house in Hampstead.

Even publications such at the Tatler recorded Admiral Barton as being responsible for the house, for example, in an article on the 14th July, 1940 on Pamela Lady Glenconner, who was then living in the house with her family, the Tatler reported that “Admiral’s House was built in the eighteenth century by Admiral Barton who, after an adventurous career which included shipwreck on the Barbary Coast, being sold into slavery, rescue and court martial, ended his days firing guns to celebrate victories in the Napoleonic wars”.

Barton did have an adventurous career, but he did not live in Admiral’s House.

Admiral’s House is Grade II listed, and I have used the Historic England history of the house in the listing record as hopefully the most accurate record for the history of the house.

Admiral Barton certainly did not build the house, and whether cannons were ever fired from the roof must be questionable.

Pamela Lyndon Travers (born Helen Lyndon Goff in Queensland, Australia on the 9th of August, 1899) was the author of Mary Poppins which features Admiral Boom, who fired a cannon from his roof. Travers was working on Mary Poppins during the 1920s (it was published in 1934).

Admiral’s House is referenced as Travers inspiration for Admiral Boom’s house. There is no record that she ever lived in Hampstead, or whether she saw the house when she was writing Mary Poppins, however as shown with the Tatler article in 1940, the story of the Admiral and cannon was in circulation in the early decades of the 20th century.

Admiral’s House as seen whilst walking along Admiral’s Walk:

Admiral's House

Admiral’s House has been modified many times over the years. The entrance from Admiral’s Walk, along with the conservatory on the first floor which can be seen in the above photo, were both 19th century additions.

The large garage which can be seen to the right of the house is a recent replacement of an earlier structure, and the house has also had a kitchen extension and underground swimming pool added.

To the side of Admiral’s House is another building, Grove Lodge. It is not clear what the original relationship was between the two buildings, and whether there was any dependency, however they do appear to have been in separate ownership for most of their existence.

Recent building work on Grove Lodge made the national newspapers, when construction of a basement at Grove Lodge, allegedly caused damage to Admiral’s House, as reported in the Daily Mail.

If you look at the following photo, there is a brown plaque on Admiral’s House, and a blue plaque on Grove Lodge:

Admiral's House

The brown plaque on Admiral’s House was also in my father’s 1951 photo, and is a London County Council plaque, recording that the architect, Sir George Gilbert Scott lived in the house.

He was the architect for the Midland Grand Hotel at St. Pancras Station, the Albert memorial, and the Foreign and Commonwealth Office, as well as large number of other public buildings, restorations of churches and cathedrals, and domestic houses.

Prior to Hampstead, he was living in St. John’s Wood, however the continued expansion of London resulted in a move in 1856 to Admiral’s House. He would not stay there for too long, as his wife Caroline found the place rather cold and the location isolated which restricted their social life (Hampstead Underground Station would open years later in 1907).

The blue plaque on Grove Lodge, to the left, is to record that the novelist and playwright John Galsworthy lived in the house between 1918 and 1933. Galsworthy’s best known work was the Forsyte Saga, and he was awarded the Nobel prize for literature in 1932.

The house in Hampstead was his London home, and it was here that Galsworthy died in 1933.

After a look at Admiral’s House, and ticking off another of my father’s photos, the weather was so good that we went for a wander around Hampstead.

The following map shows the route covered in the rest of the post with red circles indicating a place I will write about. Admiral’s House is at the start of the route on the left of the map (Map © OpenStreetMap contributors):

And from here, a short walk brings us to the following house in Hampstead Grove:

George du Maurier

Which has a plaque recording that cartoonist and author George du Maurier lived in the house:

George du Maurier

The du Maurier name has many associations with Hampstead, and I wrote about finding his grave at St John, Hampstead. in this post.

We then headed east, crossed over Heath Street and walked along Elm Row, where there is this house:

Henry Cole

With a plaque recording that Sir Henry Cole, who “originated the custom of sending Christmas Cards” lived in the house:

Henry Cole

Sir Henry Cole seems to have been a far more complex and busy man than the plaque suggests. He appears to have been a workaholic, and also did not suffer fools gladly (or those that disagreed with him). His obituary, published after his death in 1882, records that “It is now fifty-five years since he commenced his career of working himself and making everybody else within the sphere of his influence work also”, and that he entered public service under the Record Commission when he “allowed little time to pass before making his presence felt”.

He found the Records Commission was in a terrible state and set about reorganising the way records were kept, in such a way that brought him into conflict with a number of powerful people.

The Record Commissioners dismissed him following a feud within the organisation, however when he was proved to be right, and had gathered his own support, the Record Commissioners had to take him back, and promote him to the office of Assistance Keeper of Records.

The reference to Christmas Cards probably relates to the following entry in his obituary “He took an important part in the development of the penny-postage plan of Sir Rowland Hill, occupied the responsible post of Secretary to the Mercantile Committee on Postage, and gained one of the £100 prizes offered by the Treasury for ‘suggestions'”.

He also had concerns about standards of architecture, fashion and the design of everyday objects, stating that “In 1840 England had not yet recovered from the fearful degradation of taste under Farmer George” (the nickname given to George III), and he preached for the alliance of art and manufacture.

This is only a small snapshot of his life and his obituary ran to a full column and a quarter of news print. I suspect it was a clever marketing idea to introduce the custom of sending Christmas Cards when he was involved with the penny-postage plan.

Following Elm Row, then turning into Hampstead Square and there are two large, brick buildings. The one on the left has a brown plaque on the side:

Newman Hall

The brown plaque reads “In memoriam – Newman Hall, D.D. Homes for the aged given by his widow”.

Newman Hall was described as “one of the oldest residents in Hampstead” when he died in 1902 aged 85. He was a Reverend and Preacher, author and artist. The titles of his book included “Songs of Heaven and Earth” and “Come to Jesus”.

The plaque refers to numbers 7, 8 and 9 Hampstead Square, which were bequeathed by the Will of Newman Hall’s wife, Harriet Mary Margaret Hall as almshouses for pensioners in 1922.

The charity, the Newman Hall Home for Pensioners exists to this day, continuing to maintain the properties in their use as almshouses.

Now continuing along Cannon Place, and the view along Christchurch Hill shows the height of Hampstead, compared to the city to the south, which was one of its attractions when development started during the early 18th century.

View from Hampstead

Opposite the junction with Christchurch Hill is another blue plaque. This one to Sir Flinders Petrie, 1853 to 1942, Egyptologist:

Flinders Petrie

Flinders Petrie was a prolific archaeologist of Egyptian history. He began archaeological training began in 1872, when he surveyed Stonehenge, and his first visit to Egypt in 1880 resulted in his first dig in the country in 1884 and which started a lifetime of work exploring Egyptian history.

He gathered a very large collection of Egyptian antiquities, and ensured that during excavations, everything was recorded, no matter how small.

University College London now has the Petrie Museum. This was formed around the department and museum created in 1892 through the bequest of Amelia Edwards. a collection of Egyptian antiquities.

Amelia Edwards, who for a while lived in Wharton Street on the Lloyd Baker Estate (see this post) was a 19th century novelist and author of travel books which she would also illustrate. After a visit to Egypt she became fascinated by the ancient history of the country and the threats to the archaeology and monuments that could be found across the country.

She wrote about her travels in Egypt and in 1882 also helped set-up the Egypt Exploration Fund to explore, research and preserve Egypt’s history. The fund is still going today as the Egypt Exploration Society, continuing to be based in London at Doughty Mews.

Flinders Petrie was the first Edwards Professor of Egyptian Archaeology and Philology at University College London. The Flinders collection of Egyptian antiquities is also now in the museum that bears his name.

At the end of Cannon Place, at the junction with Squire’s Mount is Cannon Hall:

Cannon Hall

Cannon Hall dates from around 1729 and is a Grade II* listed building.

The house is another Hampstead connection with the du Maurier family, as Gerald du Maurier purchased the house in 1916 and lived there until his death in 1934.

Gerald was the son of George du Maurier who we met earlier in Hampstead Grove.

Gerald was an actor-manager and his most famous parts were probably when he played significant roles in premieres of two J.M. Barrie plays, including the dual role of George Darling and Captain Hook on the 27th of December, 1904 at the Duke of York’s Theatre.

He lived in Canon Hall with his wife Muriel Beaumont and their three daughters, Daphne du Maurier (future author and who we will meet again in Hampstead, Angela (who would also become an author), and the future artist, Jeanne du Maurier.

Canon Hall had a number of other notable, previous residents, including in 1780, Sir Noah Thomas who was physician to King George III, and from 1838, Sir James Cosmo Melville of the East India Company, who when he purchased the house was chief secretary of the company.

It seems that from around the time of Meville’s ownership, the cannons that gave the name to the place were installed along the street.

Walk past Cannon Hall, and turn down Squire’s Mount (named after Joshua Squire who purchased some land here in 1714), follow the wall alongside Cannon Hall, to find a strange door and pair of windows:

Hampstead parish lock-up

The plaque on the wall states that this was the parish lock-up, built into the garden wall of Cannon Hall around 1730. The hall was the site of a magistrates court, and prisoners would be kept in the single room cell, until more suitable arrangements could be found.

The Hampstead News on the 2nd of June 1949 stated that from old title deeds, the names of former magistrates appear to have lived in Cannon Hall. The article also stated that the lock-up later housed the manual fire engine belonging to the parish, however I doubt it would have fit through the door, unless alterations have been made to the entrance.

The lock-up lasted 100 years, as its use ended in 1832, when the temporary holding of prisoners was moved to the Watch House in Holly Walk.

Hampstead parish lock-up

The lock-up is Grade II listed, and the listing states that inside there is a vaulted brick single cell. The London Borough of Camden’s Conservation Statement for Hampstead records that on the other side of the wall, modern houses have been built in part of the garden of Cannon Hall, and the old lock-up is now the entrance to one of these houses.

Back in 2015 there was a planning application for a three storey house to be built replacing the single storey building behind the wall. I assume this did not go ahead as no evidence of such a house can be seen above the wall.

Squire’s Mount turns into Cannon Lane, at the end of which is another of the wonderful street name signs that can be found across Hampstead. Nothing like a pointing finger to indicate the direction.

Squire's Mount

At the end of Cannon Lane, we turned west into Well Lane, and soon found another mention of the du Maurier’s presence in Hampstead:

Daphne du Maurier

The plaque states that the novelist Daphne du Maurier lived in the house behind the wall, between 1932 and 1934. Probably best known for the books Jamaica Inn, Rebecca and Frenchman’s Creek, her last book, Rule Britannia, published in 1972, was a interesting and prophetic account of the country leaving the European Union.

Finally, towards the end of Well Road is another plaque on the walk alongside the house and buildings in the following photo:

Mark Gertler

This plaque records that the artist Mark Gertler lived in the building. He was born in Spitalfields and there is a house in Elder Street that also records his time in the area. He was a painter of figure subjects, portraits and still-life, and one of many artists that have made Hampstead their home.

At the end of Well Road, at the junction with New End is a tall, brick building, with a stone plaque on the narrow end of the building:

Cholera in Hampstead

The lettering along the top of the plaque is somewhat worn, but appears to read: “These buildings were erected by voluntary contributions for a dispensary and soup kitchen. It was intended as a thank offering to almighty God for his special mercy in sparing this parish during the visitation of cholera in the year 1849. The site was purchased in 1850 and the building completed in 1852. He shall deliver thee from the noisome pestilence. Thomas Ainger M.A.”

Cholera in Hampstead

The building, that was constructed as a dispensary and soup kitchen is now a fee paying, independent school.

The visitation of cholera in the year 1849 was one of the many cholera outbreaks in the mid 19th century (see my post on John Snow and the Soho Cholera Outbreak of 1854). John Snow’s suspicion about the source of a cholera outbreak was further confirmed when a local resident of Golden Square moved to Hampstead, but still sent for a bottle of the “sparkling Broad Street water” every day. She was the only person in Hampstead to be diagnosed with cholera.

The cholera outbreak of 1849 was serious across the whole of London, although south London suffered more than north London. The Lady’s Newspaper on the 29th of September 1849 carried an account of the outbreak during the first part of the year and reported that 35 out of 10,000 inhabitants of north London died, compared to 104 out of 10,000 inhabitants of south London.

The following table from the Weekly Dispatch provides a list of deaths from Cholera and Diarrhea reported on the 31st of August 1849:

Cholera in Hampstead

The table shows that for the reporting on that one day, Hampstead had one of the lowest levels of death across London.

That was a short walk, starting at Admiral’s House, which still looks much as it did when compared with my father’s 1951 photo.

The rest of the walk demonstrated just how much there is to explore in Hampstead. Other posts I have written about the area include:

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In Search Of Peckham Pubs

For today’s post, I am back in Peckham, in search of some Peckham pubs. There was a problem with the emailing out to subscribers last Sunday, so sorry if you did not receive the post on Macs Pie and Mash in Peckham. If you want to catch up, the post can be found here.

I am really grateful to some of the feedback to the post which included references to Macs Pie and Mash in a Museum of London book titled ‘Eels, Pie & Mash’, which includes the following reference to Macs: “This shop was previously a launderette until Mary and Roy Brannan took it over in 1976 and called it Simple Simon’s after the children’s nursery rhyme.”

As well as the pie and mash shop, there were a number of other photos of Peckham taken by my father in 1986, which I have not been able to identify, although one photo was easy:

Peckham Pubs, the Greyhound

This is on the Greyhound pub on Peckham High Street. The Greyhound is a corner pub and has one of the visual decorations, representative of the name of the pub, on the roof line at the corner.

There were, and still are, a number of this type of pub decorations across London. I have photographed many of them ready for a blog post, but still have a few more to visit.

After finding the location of the pie and mash shop, I walked north along Rye Lane in the direction of Peckham High Street to find the Greyhound. It was a sunny day when my father took the Peckham photos, however with the demands of a weekly blog I have to visit places when I can, and when the weather is not so good, so I was in Peckham on a grey, January day, however some of the shops in Rye Lane do a good job of adding colour to a grey, flat light:

Rye Lane

Peckham, in common with most other places in London, once had a very large number of pubs. Many of these were still hanging on in the 1980s and 1990s, but the first couple of decades of the 21st century have seen their number decline dramatically.

Local demographic changes, competition from a considerably increased range of eating and drinking places, cost pressures, etc. have all contributed to the closure of so many pubs.

When a pub closes, they are often demolished, or converted to alternative uses. Where the building remains, it leaves a reminder of the social and cultural history of these local institutions, and I found a number of these in Peckham, starting with:

The Hope, Rye Lane

Peckham Pubs, the Hope

The Hope has now been replaced by a Paddy Power betting shop. The name of the pub can still be seen at the top of the façade, along with some of the original decoration below the first floor windows.

The name of the pub, and vertical decoration between the windows of the first floor were originally the same golden colour as the decoration below the windows.

The Hope closed around 2010, when Paddy Power took over the ground floor.

I cannot find exactly how old the pub was, however I did find an intriguing reference in the Morning Advertiser on the 1st of June 1848 which may indicate the age and origins of the pub and the pub name:

“To be LET, TWO good BEER and ALE HOUSES situated on the outskirts of London, doing 20 barrels per month, besides a good rub in tea, coffee, cooked meat, &c – rents all let off, and both free – price £100, or at valuation. Satisfactory reason will be given by applying at 2, Church Lane, Whitechapel; or Mr. Hope, Greengrocer, Rye-lane, Peckham.”

Unfortunately there is no address given for the two good beer and ale houses on the outskirts of London, however the contact details are for a Mr. Hope in Rye Lane.

There is no way I can confirm this given limited research time, and perhaps I am clutching at straws, however perhaps the beer and ale houses were owned by Mr. Hope of Rye Lane, and perhaps he gave his name to one of them.

The South London Observer provided a good source of all the usual reports of happenings in a 19th and 20th century pub, and an interesting theme was the creative advertising for the Hope when a Mr. George Crump was the landlord from around 1916 to the late 1920s. Some examples:

9th December 1916: “PECKHAM’S NOTED BEER AND WINE HOUSE, THE HOPE, 66, RYE LANE. Mr. George Crump begs to inform the residents of Peckham and elsewhere that he is still supplying the best of everything in Wines, Ales etc.”

2nd of June, 1917: “IMPORTANT NOTICE – The restricted output of beer in no way effects the supply at THE HOPE, RYE LANE, PECKHAM, where Mr. George Crump is still providing the finest Mild Ale and Porter at 4d per half-pint for consumption on the premises only. Cellars always well stocked. Noted house for wines.”

George Crump also seems to have been a bit of a composer:

13th March 1926: “GET THAT SUNSHINE FEELING AND VISIT ‘THE HOPE’ RYE LANE, PECKHAM, where you can see an excellent portrait of GEORGE W. CRUMP by that talented artist Lydia Dreams of ‘Popularity’ fame. GET THAT SUNSHINE FEELING, by George Crump and Joe Archer, sung with immense success by Miss Kitty Collier.”

Lydia Dreams was an artist who had a male persona of Walter H Lambert for some of her paintings, one of which, as the above report confirms, was called “Popularity”. This was a remarkable portrait of many of the music hall artists of the early 20th century, where they are shown, crowded together at Lower Marsh and Waterloo Road.

The painting is apparently held by the Museum of London, however the site dedicated to Arthur Lloyd has a copy online here. No idea what happened to the portrait of Mr. George Crump.

His creative advertising for the Hope pub continues:

18th December 1926: “Prepare for the Festive Season. If you want a Really Merry Christmas you must not fail to have your stock of wines. Mr. Geo. Crump of THE HOPE, RYE LANE, is now offering 5,000 bottles of fine DRURO PORT from 2/9 a bottle.”

22nd December 1928: “THE HOPE, RYE LANE, PECKHAM. Truman, Hanbury and Buxton’s Sparkling Ales. Guinness and Bass always in fine condition. Wines from the Wood and in bottle, of the finest quality.

Specialty Douro port from 3/6 per bottle. Cockburn’s. Sandeman’s, Dow’s etc.”

The above advert concluded with the following wonderful rhyme:

“If you’re feeling alone and there’s no one at home, Don’t get the blues or be snappy, But stroll down the Lane in sunshine or rain, Call in The Hope and be happy.”

George Crump seems to have been the landlord of the Hope for around 18 years, as I found a report on the death of Mrs. S. Crump, who must have been his wife:

16th September 1954: “Mrs. S. Crump. A woman who had served the Peckham public house behind the bar of the Hope, Rye-lane for 18 years, died at the Beer and Wine Trade Benevolent Society Homes. Nunhead, aged 82.

Mrs. Susanna Crump, born at Bethnal Green, had spent 40 years in the district. She was very fond of cats and had pictures and ornaments of them all round her little rooms.”

“Chief mourners at Forest Hill included Mr. and Mrs. G.C. Crump of the Bricklayers Arms , Kender Street, New Cross.”

I suspect that one of the chief mourners, Mr. G.C. Crump was George and Susanna Crump’s son as he had the same first initial as the father. He is noted as being of the Bricklayers Arms in New Cross. I have found multiple family generations in the profession of landlord was common in many London pubs.

A short distance along Rye Lane is Rye Lane Chapel. Obviously not a pub, but an institution catering to the more spiritual needs of the local population:

Rye Lane Chapel

The current building dates from 1863 when it replaced the original chapel which had been demolished to make way for Rye Lane Station. The memorial stone of the original 1819 chapel was retained and is now below the pillar on the left of the entrance. The chapel was very badly damaged by bombing in 1943, but was rebuilt and reopened five years later.

Back to Peckham pubs, and at the northern end of Rye Lane, is the junction with Peckham High Street. Directly opposite is an open pub:

The Kentish Drovers

Peckham Pubs, the Kenitish Drovers

The Kentish Drovers is an old pub, but not the one in the above photo. The current location of the Kentish Drovers was originally a bank, and the pub is now a Wetherspoon’s. It was originally on the opposite side of Peckham High Street, in an area which unfortunately was covered by a very large advertising hoarding so I have no idea if any of the original pub building remains.

The earliest reference I found to the Kentish Drovers was from the Morning Chronicle on the 4th of November, 1805, when the leasehold of a cottage was being offered for sale at an auction at “Mr. Mills’s, the Kentish Drovers, Peckham.”

The description of the cottage is an interesting snapshot of Peckham at the start of the 19th century as it was a “small cottage, with garden and forecourt, pleasantly situated in the orchard.”

Peckham was still very rural at the time of the sale of the cottage, and although this was just over 50 years earlier, Rocque’s map shows that Peckham was very rural at the time:

1746 Rocque map of Peckham

I have marked Rye Lane, as in 1746 it was called South Street, presumably as it led south from the large junction at the northern end of the street, where there is an open space at the junction with Peckham High Street and Peckham Hill Street.

There were a large number of pubs around this road junction, and I have marked the location of the Greyhound, on the corner of Peckham High Street and Peckham Hill Street:

The Greyhound

Peckham Pubs, the Greyhound

it is good to see that the Greyhound still has the decoration at the top corner of the building, although today it is a rather plain black and white, unlike the colourful decoration in the 1986 photo.

I was hoping the Greyhound would be open as apparently the four bay Victorian bar back fitting remains, which includes a painting of a greyhound, and the name of the pub in gold mosaic.

I cannot find exactly how old the Greyhound is, the earliest mention being a series of adverts in 1821 for an auction, where catalogues could be collected from the Greyhound, Peckham. The pub today looks to be of later 19th century construction, and given the location of the pub at a major cross roads, I suspect there was a pub here for some years before the current building.

Pubs tend to be associated with beer drinking, but in many pubs the emphasis seems to have been on spirits.

When Mr. R. Phillips took over the Greyhound in 1904 he placed an advert in the South London Observer, where he advertised that he was a “Wine and Spirit Merchant”, and that at the pub, the residents of Peckham could purchase “Special blends of Scotch and Irish Whiskies”, and that he was an “Importer and Bonder of Foreign Wines and Liqueur Brandies”.

On the opposite side of Peckham High Street, is another pub;

The Bun House

Peckham Pubs, the Bun House

The Bun House has a large sign between the second floor windows with the name of the pub, the date, circa 1898, and the brewery name Courage.

As with the Hope pub, it is now closed (January 2012), with the ground floor being occupied by a betting shop.

The date on the building is 1898, which I assume refers to the current building. I suspect that given the location of the pub, there was an earlier version of the Bun House on the same site. Multiple references to the pub call it Ye Olde Bun House, implying that it was of some age, although perhaps this was just a bit of clever marketing.

I cannot find a source for the name. An earlier landlord for the pub was also a sweet seller, so perhaps it was down to the multiple trades that early pubs were often involved with, selling sweets, buns and alcohol, but again this is pure speculation.

As with the Hope, the Bun House had a long connection with one family, as this report from the South London Observer explains:

30th June 1960: “No more a Deveson behind the bar at Ye Olde Bun House – For 46 years, Ye Olde Bun House, Peckham High Street, has had a Deveson in charge. Next Tuesday, the family connection will be severed when the present licensee, Harry, retires from the trade. Harry, now 50, has been licensee at the Bun House, a wine and spirits house since 1930. The inn was established 62 years ago, rebuilt in 1900, and modernised just before World War II.

Mr Deveson took over in 1930 when his father retired, after being the licensee there from 1914. The Devesons have been gradually leaving the public house business – they once had four premises in South London.

Said Sam Lamb, barman at the Bun House since 1944; ‘I don’t know what I shall do when Mr. Deveson leaves. He has been a good friend’.

What will Mr. Deveson do when he leaves? First of all I’ll have a long rest’ he said ‘I am going to live in Kent so I’ll have plenty of fresh air. I shall miss the company at the Bun House.”

I think I found the report on the death of the original Deveson who retired in 1930:

8th September 1944: “The cremation took place yesterday at Honor Oak of Mr. George Ernest Deveson of East Dulwich, a former licensee of Ye Olde Bun House, Peckham High Street, for 30 years, who died on Saturday. He leaves a widow and six children.

One son, Mr. William E. Deveson is the licensee of The Hope, Rye Lane, Peckham and the Princess of Wales, Elephant and Castle, and another son, Mr. F.H. Deveson is now the landlord of Ye Olde Bun House and also of the Foresters Arms, Nunhead.”

Again, an example of both the landlord trade passing through generations, and the wider family running multiple south London pubs, including the Hope in nearby Rye Lane.

One of the first references I could find to the pub was the following report, showing typical pub entertainment in late 19th century Peckham:

24th November 1894: “HODGES’ HARMONIC SOCIETY. A concert under the auspices of Hodges’ Harmonic Society was held on Thursday evening week, at the Old Bun House, High Street, Peckham, when a good company assembled to participate in the excellent programme which has been provided.”

A short distance east along Peckham High Street was:

The Red Bull

Peckham Pubs, the Red Bull

Despite having the name Red Bull, the pub now seems to be known as Barefoot Joe’s Bar, selling cocktails and craft beers. The original Red Bull closed down some years ago and had a number of uses, including retail before opening as a bar in December 2020.

Again, I suspect the Red Bull is much earlier than the current building indicates, as a Red Bull was in Peckham High Street in 1807 when it was mentioned in an advert for a property sale as a place where details of the sale could be collected. The advert shows how at the start of the 19th century, the gardens and orchards of Peckham are starting to be built on:

“A very eligible FREEHOLD ESTATE situate on the north side of the high road from Camberwell, and nearly opposite to the Old Adam and Eve, at the entrance to Peckham; consisting of four pieces of Garden Ground, principally inclosed with brick-walls, and stocked with many standard and wall-fruit trees, a most eligible spot for building upon, having a frontage next the road of 325 feet.”

The Adam and Eve pub mentioned in the advert was to the west of the pubs covered in this post, at 14 Peckham High Street. The building is still there, although the pub has closed.

As the first decades of the 19th century passed, London would cover the fields and integrate what was the village of Peckham into the continuous built environment of south London.

One final pub in this little cluster of pubs around the junction in Peckham High Street:

The Crown

The Crown

The final pub in my initial exploration of Peckham pubs is the Crown, almost opposite the Red Bull, and the Greyhound is a very short distance to the left of the above photo, so with the Bun House and the Kentish Drovers, there were five pubs clustered around this road junction in Peckham High Street.

The size of the pubs also gives some indication that these were expected to be financially successful businesses.

Whilst the building that the Crown once occupied looks to be of the later part of the 19th century, there was a much older pub here, and a reference to the Crown dating to 1774 is the earliest of any of the references to Peckham pubs.

In September 1774, a Mr. Pittit of the Crown in Peckham wrote a letter to a number of newspapers telling of the benefits of a new elixir.

I suspect that the majority, if not all of the pubs covered in this post are much older than the buildings that remain. This was a significant junction of roads in the early village of Peckham, and would have been the obvious place for pubs, not just to serve local residents, but also for those travelling through the village.

The Crown has some interesting newspaper references, including one where the owner was fined for breaching a key wartime law:

6th December 1940: “Black-out fine at Lambeth on Saturday: Miss Rose Miller, the Crown, Peckham High Street, 15s.

As was common practice when a new landlord took over a pub, they would advertise in the local papers, always with an emphasis on the quality of their stock:

3rd August 1895: “HENRY S. ROCKE, (Late of the PRINCE ALFRED, 267, Walworth Road). Wine and Spirit Merchant, Importer and Bonder, has purchased THE CROWN, HIGH STREET PECKHAM. Only the best Articles kept on the Premises.”

And perhaps one of Henry Rocke’s business initiatives was to sell Christmas hampers, which he advertised soon after taking over the pub:

2nd October 1895: “Christmas Half-Guinea Hamper, containing bottles of Fine Brandy or Whisky, Best Gin, Jamaica Rum, Old Port, Pale Sherry, and a packet of Best Tea.”

That is six Peckham pubs. The Greyhound looks to be still open. The Kentish Drovers has moved to the opposite side of the road, the rest are closed.

There are many more pubs in Peckham, some open, many closed, but I will save them for another post later in the year. I am pleased to have found the Greyhound and to confirm that the relief at the top of the building is still there, although not so colourful.

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