Monthly Archives: November 2024

King George V Dock – The Last of the Royals

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In my final post exploring the Royal Docks, I am looking at the King George V Dock, the last of the three docks that make up the Royals, and was opened in 1921.

I have a copy of the book that was issued to commemorate the opening of the King George V Dock, and at the back of the book are some fold out paper maps, one with a view of all the docks from St. Katherine out to Tilbury, and the following is an extract from the map showing the Royal Docks as they were following completion of the new, third dock (the map is a bit creased. It is 100 years old and of very thin paper so I did not want to put too much pressure on the folds):

The King George V Dock is the dock on the right, below the Royal Albert, and in the map it is marked Royal Albert Dock Extension (South). The book and map were issued in advance of the formal opening by King George V, so I assume it was the wrong thing to do with royal protocol to give the new dock’s name before the King had officially opened and named the dock.

Another point with the map, is that the Port of London Authority were considering a fourth dock for the Royals complex. The red lettering above the Royal Albert Dock is marked as a “Site for dock”. This additional dock was never built, and future expansion by the Port of London Authority would be focused on Tilbury.

It is not possible to walk alongside the majority of the King George V dock. London City Airport occupies the northern side of the dock, whilst other parts of the airport (car parks, offices etc.) occupy much of the southern side, and the one road that ran alongside the dock is fenced off.

So to look at the dock, I am taking a walk along Woolwich Manor Way and the Sir Steve Redgrave Bridge, which provide a good view along the length of the King George V Dock, as well as the lock entrances and the Royal Albert Dock.

The route I am taking is shown by the red dashed line in the following map, starting from the bottom of the line, looking to the west, then returning on the other side of the bridge, looking at the view to the east (© OpenStreetMap contributors):

Detail from the map at the top of the post shows the Royal Albert Dock Extension, or the King George V Dock as it would be officially known following the opening ceremony:

The road I am following in today’s post is shown in the above map, running over the lower of the three locks to the right, before bending to avoid the Basin, although today the road is straight and a bridge runs over the Basin.

There is no access to the south of the King George V Dock, the road that runs along the south side is fenced off from the east. The blue sign is offering a welcome to London City Airport, although there is no public access from this direction:

A look through the gates, and the road disappears off to where the car parks for the airport are located, with access being from the terminal building at the far west of the dock:

So I am continuing along the Woolwich Manor Way, up to the bridge that runs over the lock between the dock and the river:

Looking along the lifting bridge over the lock:

And from the middle of the bridge, we can look to the west, along the full length of the King George V Dock:

The new dock was needed because the size of ships continued to grow, and there were now ships that were larger than could be accommodated by the Royal Victoria or Royal Albert Docks.

The book published for the opening of the dock provides some insight:

“The largest work yet undertaken by the Port Authority has been the construction of the great dock which his Majesty King George V, has graciously consented to open, and which, in point of importance, is surpassed by no other undertaking of a similar nature carried out during recent years. The improvement in Port facilities by its completion may be illustrated by the fact that, whereas the largest vessel which hitherto could be accommodated in the docks was limited to about 19,000 gross register tons and that only at Tilbury, a distance of 26 miles below London bridge, the new dock will permit of vessels up to 30,000 tons being berthed within six and a half miles of the heart of the City.”

The above text shows that in the early 1920s, the proximity of the docks to the heart of the City of London was still an important factor. There were still many warehouses and trading establishments in the City which received and traded goods coming into the docks.

The text also illustrates why, despite the opening of the new dock, their long term demise could have been foreseen. The story of all the London docks is one of expansion and movement east along the Thames. This was to move to locations where there was sufficient space for very large docks, and where the River Thames was deep enough for large ships to sail.

Ship sizes would continue to grow, and the eventual lack of available space, and the limited depth of the river, would seal the fate of the docks from the Royals, west towards central London. A fate that was confirmed with the arrival of containerisation.

The book published for the opening of the dock starts with a wonderful artwork showing the ship carrying the King, entering the King George V dock, under the lifting bridge, with probably PLA staff and other dignitaries standing on the side of the lock:

The coat of arms are those of the Port of London Authority, with individual components from the arms on the flag. The motto of the PLA “May the Port of the Empire Flourish” is below the arms.

Again, as mentioned earlier, the book does not mention the name King George V Dock. The new dock on the title page is simply the “Southern Extension of the Royal Victoria and Albert System”.

The King George V Dock was of a considerable size. Last week’s post on the locks connecting the Royal Docks to Gallions Reach described the entrance lock, and the following is again taken from the same book, and describes the scale of the dock, as well as the infrastructure that enabled flexible loading and unloading between ship and multiple land-side methods for storage or onward transport:

“The wet dock has a water area of 64 acres and a depth of 38 feet, and is surrounded by quay walls of an aggregate length of approximately 10,000 feet, providing fourteen berths for steamers of the largest size. The length of the dock is 4,578 feet and the width varies from 710 feet at the eastern end to 500 feet at the western end.

A swing bridge, weighing about 1,800 tons, carries the dock road and the rail traffic across the passage which communicates with the Royal Albert Dock.

On the north side of the dock, three double storey sheds, each about 1,100 feet long, are being erected with a width on the ground floor of 110 feet. Reinforced concrete has been adopted for the framework and floors of the sheds, with brick panels, and the roofs have been constructed on the ‘North Light’ principle with steel trusses. Two lines of railway are laid along the quay, 50 feet wide, and a loading platform and three lines of railway have been provided at the rear of the sheds.

Twenty-four 3-ton electric level-huffing cranes constitute the cargo handling appliances on the North Quay itself, but each shed is further equipped with eight 1-ton electric underhung revolving jib cranes travelling transversely through the shed, which are capable of dealing with goods from the quayside or from the railway trucks or carts on the land side and depositing them on any portion of the upper floor or through hatchways on to the lower floor. The quay cranes are capable of lifting three tons at a radius of 60 feet, or a slightly reduced load at a maximum radius of 65 feet.”

The book for the opening of the King George V Dock included some wonderful paintings showing the appearance of the dock after completion, and in operation:

The painting shows the lock to the Thames at lower right, and the passage to the Royal Albert Dock at upper right, with the swing bridge for road and rail traffic. Also shown is the lifting bridge over the end of the entrance lock, where it meets the dock – the point where I was standing to take the photo of the whole of the dock earlier in the post.

The painting also shows the sheds and cranes lining both side of the dock, as described in the book, which also includes an aerial photo of the Royal Docks, with the King George V Dock labelled as “The New Dock” on the left (the photo shows the new dock as being far wider than the Royal Victoria or Albert docks)

Another painting from the book shows the dock as it would be when full of ships up against the quays, along with barges being pulled by tugs:

And another painting showing some detail of the southern quayside, with the Thames in the background:

in the above painting we can see how the south side of the dock differed from the north. Along the northern side of the dock, ships moored directly alongside the quay, however on the southern side:

“Here are seven reinforced concrete jetties, each 520 feet long and 22 feet wide, have been constructed at a distance of 32 feet from the face of the wall, the only shore connection being by means of a timber footbridge.

Ships will berth on the outside of the jetties, and the electric cranes, six to each jetty, will discharge goods direct from the ship’s side either on to the quay for delivery to carts or railway trucks, or for sorting and temporary storage in the sheds behind, or direct into barges lying in the space reserved for them between the jetties and the wall. this arrangement has been specially designed to facilitate the discharge of the large proportion of goods arriving for delivery direct into barges.”

Again, flexibility was key, and as well as the ability to take much larger ships, the king George V Dock also offered multiple methods of transferring cargo.

Photo of the sheds along the north the of the dock, before the cranes were installed:

When we look at the dock today, we see a large expanse of water, with just a few feet of concrete above the water along the quayside. What we cannot see is the significant amount of construction below the ground / water level, and the book to mark the opening of the dock includes some illustrations where we can see the depth and width of the concrete quayside, and the depth of piling needed to support the warehouses:

The drawing also shows how flat bottomed ships of the day were, which enabled the ship to carry large amounts of cargo. I mentioned this in the previous post where the lock into the Royal Victoria Dock was originally a slight V shape, which matched the shape of the hulls of Victorian shipping, but had to be flattened to accommodate ships in later decades.

The following photo shows the north quay in use, with a floating crane moored alongside a ship to assist with unloading into barges:

View along the south side of the dock, showing the cranes installed on their jetties:

And this is the drawing showing the construction of the southern side of the dock, with the crane on a jetty and space for barges between the quayside and the jetty. Unlike the northern side of the dock, the southern side had a sloping base from the jetty up to the dock, as there was no intention for ships to be moored directly alongside the quay.

Detail of the southern side of the dock in use can be seen in the following photo:

Even with a photo of the King George V Dock without water, it is still hard to appreciate the full scale of the dock. The following photo shows the dock, which appears to be fully excavated. The view is from the east, looking west, and the southern edge of the dock is on the left, where we can see the wooden construction of the jetties which have yet to have their cranes installed:

Work on the dock started in August 1912, however work came to a standstill during much of the First World War due to shortages of men and material. Work recommenced in the Autumn of 1918.

The following describes how the docks were equipped and the enormous volumes of materials that were involved:

“The general equipment of the dock includes floating cranes, tugs, locomotives, rolling stock, electric trucks, conveyors, piling machines, and other labour-aiding appliances of the most modern type for the efficient and rapid handling of cargo.

Altogether about 5,000,000 cubic yards of material have been excavated for the works, of which 2,000,000 cubic yards have been deposited at sea. The whole of the ballast required, over 500,000 cubic yards, was obtained from the excavations on the site and use in admixture with about 100,000 tons of Portland Cement for the concrete.”

One of the more unusual features of the King George V Dock was that it had a dry dock at the western end of the dock.

A dry dock is a dock where a ship can be floated into the dock. Gates are then closed across the access to the dry dock and the water is pumped out. The hull of the ship is then in the dry, and maintenance or repairs can then be performed on the hull.

The following photo shows the dry dock just before the opening of the King George V Dock:

The location of the dock is within the red oval in the following extract from an early 1950s edition of the OS map. Whilst the docks are not named, the King George V is the lower dock with the Royal Albert above (Map ‘Reproduced with the permission of the National Library of Scotland“):

From the bridge, we can look across to the passage between the King George V and Royal Albert Docks. There was originally a swing bridge over this passage which carried a road and rail tracks:

Although today we cannot find any cargo vessels in the King George V Dock, there is an old light vessel. This is Light Vessel 93:

The following history of the light vessel is from the vessel’s entry in the register of National Historic Ships UK, and the entry and source of the following text can be found by clicking on the text:

“LIGHT VESSEL 93 was ordered by Trinity House in 1938 and was built by Philip & Son of Dartmouth. She is a vessel of riveted steel construction. She first served on the Galloper Station and then on mine watching duties on the Thames between 1947 and 1953. After further service on the East Goodwin and Galloper Stations she had renovations carried out by Swan Hunter in 1980 and Holman & Sons of Penzance in 1996.

After conversion to solar power in 1998 she had further service at Inner Dowsing Station, Sunk Station and Foxtrot 3 before being sold into private ownership in 2004. She is used as a photographic studio, events and exhibition space.” 

The light vessel was moored in the Royal Victoria Dock, close to the mill buildings, but was moved earlier this year in preparation for the foot bridge that is planned to be built across the Royal Victoria Dock, as part of the redevelopment of the land around the Millennium Mill.

When London City Airport was built, it was over the land between the King George V and Royal Albert Docks, with part of the airport, and a later extension of the aircraft stand area, and equipment and vehicle holding area. The extensions over the dock were built on piles, and the following photo is looking across to the airport, with the runway on the right, and we can just see part of the piles between the surface area of the airport and the water of the dock:

The bridge carrying the Woolwich Manor Way over the entrance lock is still a lifting bridge, although the current bridge is not the original. Standing in the middle of the bridge we can see where the two sides of the bridge meet, with the water of the lock visible below:

The presence of London City Airport can be felt when walking around the Royal Docks, and parts of North Woolwich and Silvertown. The bridge is also at the end of the runway, and adjacent to the approach lights, and we can look straight down to the runway and the planes taking off:

Or landing:

The above photo shows just how much this whole area has changed. Part of the dock water can be seen on the right of the photo and the grey blocks of the Millennium Mills are in the centre. These are from the time when the Royal Docks were the largest of London’s docks, with enormous volumes of cargo passing through.

In the foreground we see a plane coming into land at London City Airport – in some ways continuing the use of the area for transporting things internationally. Whilst the docks served passengers and cargo via ships, the airport now moves passengers via planes.

In the background are the towers around Canary Wharf on the Isle of Dogs, built on another London dock complex. On the left is the O2 / Millennium Dome, built on what was a highly industrial area of the Greenwich Peninsula.

Continuing along the bridge, and we pass over the Royal Albert Dock. the passage between the King George V and Royal Albert can be seen on the left:

At the end of the bridge, we arrive at the road network north of the docks, along with the DLR. Just below the road direction sign is a reminder of when the Excel Exhibition Centre was a Nightingale Hospital:

This section of the bridge is named “The Steve Redgrave Bridge” (possibly because of the Royal Docks rowing centre nearby):

I am now walking back along the eastern side of the bridge, the side that faces towards the Thames, and therefore the locks from the Royal Docks to the river, and here we get another view of the impounding station that pumps water from the river into the docks to maintain water levels. From this perspective we can also see the new development at this end of the Royal Albert, surrounding the impounding station:

We then come to the first of the locks from the docks to the river. This is the lock from last week’s post where the width of the lock has been considerably reduced so a much smaller (and cheaper) set of lock gates could be installed. just how much the width of the lock has been reduced can be seen when looking through the lock:

And then the second lock. This is the one that has mainly been filled in, with only a small part remaining at the dock, and into the river:

And we then come to the derelict area between the Royal Albert Basin and the lock into the King George V dock:

View over this area:

In the following photo is where Gallions Road joins Woolwich Manor Way. Gallions Road is the road where I found the other end closed in last week’s post, requiring an alternative route along the bush and butterfly alley that ran next to the Thames, which was in fact, a far better route:

There is a blue sign just visible to the left of the above photo. The sign is for Gallions Point Marina which was once reached down this closed road.

Gallions Point Marina was in the Basin between the eastern end of the Royal Albert Dock and the lock into the Thames.

In my walk around the Royal Docks I could find no evidence of a marina, and the space once occupied by Gallions Point Marina is empty. Strangely, their website is still online.

The marina was a casualty of plans to redevelop Albert Island, the derelict area between the locks for the Royal Albert and King George V.

The Greater London Authority (GLA) had been trying to take possession of the land used by the marina, and despite attempts of mediation between the company and the GLA, there was no agreement.

The GLA then took legal action and evicted the staff of the Marina on the 9th of October 2018, and took possession of the land.

In 2017, the GLA had selected London and Regional Properties  as the developers of the site, and in 2021 outline planning approval was granted for the redevelopment scheme, which does include a boat yard, storage buildings and warehouse, and according to the original requirements of the GLA, facilities for repair and maintenance work on ships that use the Thames.

The development has a website which can be found by clicking here, and the home page includes an image of some impressive ship repair facilities.

If the area is developed as the GLA originally intended, it will be a suitable development for the site, maintaining the relationship with the river and shipping that has been the whole history of the Royal Docks.

The rather good alley along the Thames with the hundreds of butterflies will be lost though, but there is planned to be public access – hopefully still along the river and across the locks, and hopefully the redevelopment will include many references to the heritage of the site.

Continuing along Woolwich Manor Way, and I have now reached the point where the bridge crosses the lock into the King George V dock, this is the lifting bridge shown earlier in the post, and I can look along the lock out to the Thames:

The area to the right of the lock in the above photo has already been redeveloped. Albert Island is the area to the left, and in this website (click here), there is an image of the proposed new development, showing buildings up to the lock.

As mentioned earlier in the post, when you look at the docks, it is hard to appreciate their size. Water up to a few feet below the sides of the dock does not give an appreciation of the depth, however the following photo is of the lock into the King George V dock under construction, the same lock as shown in my photo above, and illustrates the size, and the complexity of the lock’s build:

The bridge I was standing on to take a photo of the lock is the latest version of the bridge carrying Woolwich Manor Way across the lock, and dates from 1990.

The original version of the bridge, completed at the same time as the King George V dock is shown in the following photo, looking from the lock into the dock:

I have repeated below the painting from the front of the book issued to commemorate the opening of the King George V Dock, as the painting is of the same view as in the above photo:

The dock was opened on the 8th of July, 1921 by King George V, who, during the ceremony to open the dock said that “I have much pleasure in acceding to your request that the dock shall be known as the King George V Dock.” I assume that this is why all documentation and references to the dock prior to the opening used terms such as “new dock”, of as the “Southern Extension of the Royal Victoria & Albert Dock”, as in the front page shown above.

It was probably not royal protocol to assume the name before the King had publically granted his approval.

The opening ceremony started with a “river pageant”, with the King boarding a boat at Westminster Pier and changing to a larger boat after passing under London Bridge. There was a Royal salute fired by the gun battery at the Tower of London, shipping, warehouses, wharves and buildings along the river displayed flags and bunting, and the sides of the river were lined with people cheering as the King and Queen passed.

After two hours, they reached the entrance to the King George V Dock, and entered the lock, with children singing “patriotic airs” along the lock edge, which was also lined by seamen from H.M.S. Pembroke and boys from the Royal Hospital School at Greenwich, as well as a number of naval ships.

The King’s ship (the Rover) entered the dock through the lock, and moored alongside a transit shed at the north side of the dock, where there was a large assembly of Government and Port of London Authority officials, as well as members of the Royal Household, Ambassadors, Royal Watermen, the Archbishop of Canterbury and the Bishops of Southwark and Barking.

In reply to an address by the chairman of the Port of London Authority, the King’s speech at the quayside included references to the history of the London docks:

“Your address reminds us of the great antiquity of London as a port. Even in the far-off days of the Romans it was frequented by foreign merchants and trading ships, and the history of its development into the largest port in the world must appeal to every sailor and every merchant who has any feeling for the romance of his calling. The port in which Chaucer worked as a Custom House official, in which Drake, the founder of our sea power, entertained his Sovereign on board the Golden Hind is deeply interwoven with the fabric of English history. From those times onward the traffic and discoveries of our ancestors have brought an increasing commerce to the shores of the Thames until it is not to much to say that here the highways of the oceans meet.

You have referred to the natural advantages of the Thames estuary and to the enterprise of the trading community as the two great factors in the advancement of the Port of London. For many centuries seamen and merchants were content to rely on the first of these, but during the last hundred years improvements in ship building and the growth of the trade of London have rendered it necessary in an increasing degree to call in commercial effort and engineering skill to supplement natural advantages.”

The King continued in the same vein and also remarking on the increasing size of ships that the new dock would be able to support, and finally the King declared the new dock open as the King George V Dock, and unlike the two hour pageant down the river, the royal party took cars back from the docks to Buckingham Palace.

The north side of the dock, and from the images of the redevelopment of Albert Island, the PLA building on the side of the dock will disappear:

The lock, as well as the dock, is used as a temporary holding place for the equipment that performs much of the infrastructure work along the river, and this leads to some very strange vessels to be seen – I have no idea what the following vessel does:

The south side of the lock into the King George V dock:

A final look as I continue south along Woolwich Manor Way. In years to come, this view will be very different:

And the above view concludes my exploration of the Royal Docks, an absolutely fascinating area that demonstrates the sheer size and ambition of the London Docks, the civil engineering, the enormous volumes of trade that passed through these docks, and the passengers who departed and arrived on ships from across the world – a history that I hope will be told in future development.

As mentioned earlier in the post, the need for the King George V Dock to support ever increasing ship size should have hinted at the future closure of the London dock system, when there was not enough land for docks, and the Thames was not deep enough to bring any larger ships up to the Royals. Dredging the Thames to provide a channel was already an ongoing problem.

The docks at Tilbury continue in operation, and the really large container ships do still use the Thames, arriving at the London Gateway port, just to the west of Canvey Island. The London Gateway continues to expand, and a couple of days ago, the shipping company Maersk announced that in 2025 it is moving from the Port of Felixstowe in Suffolk, to the London Gateway in the Thames.

I have not really covered the working history of the docks – something hopefully for a future post, There are a couple of places in Silvertown I still need to cover, probably the subject for an extra post, but for now, that is the Royal Docks – well worth a visit and long walk.

I have used many excellent books, LDDC publications, newspapers etc. to research the Royal Docks. The following are a sample of some of the books, which are often available online:

  • Dockland – An illustrated historical survey of life and work in east London, published by the North East London Polytechnic (1986)
  • A London Docklands Guide by Tony Phillips (1986)
  • History of the Port of London by Sir Joseph Broodbank, Chairman of the Dock & Warehouse Committee of the PLA (1921)
  • London Docklands. Past, present and future by Professor S.K. Al Naib (1994)
  • Liquid History by Arthur Bryant (1960)
  • The Port of London Yesterday and Today by D.J. Owen, General Manager of the Port of London Authority (1927)
  • The Said Noble River by Alan Bell (1937)
  • London Docks 1800 – 1980. A civil engineering history by Ivan S. Greeves (1980)
  • Discover London Docklands. An A to Z Illustrated Guide by Professor S.K. Al Naib (1992)
  • The Port of London – A brief survey of its History with outline of its present facilities and Trade. Published by the Port of London Authority (1931)

The Royal Docks are a fascinating area to walk (if there is interest, I may do a walk around the Royals next year), but until the weather improves, and if you read this on the day of publication, as Storm Bert sweeps the country, you may be interested in the following films on life on the river and the Royal Docks.

The first, from the British Film Institute does not feature the Royal Docks, but it is from the 1930s and shows much of the working river in colour:

https://player.bfi.org.uk/free/film/watch-colour-on-the-thames-1935-online

There were once tours via boat into the Royal Docks, and the following colour film from 1966 shows a cruise along the river, before entering the Royal Docks, at the King George V lock, the bridge carrying Woolwich Manor Way opening, and then a tour through the Royal Docks:

A British Pathe film showing the working docks:

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The Gallions Reach Entrances to the Royal Docks

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In this week’s post I am continuing my walk around the Royal Docks, starting from where I ended last week’s post, at the eastern end of the Royal Albert Docks, and where the entrance locks to the Royal Albert and King George V docks from the Thames at Gallions Reach can be found. In North Woolwich I also find a sad example of how a pub’s façade has been included in a new development.

The red dashed line in the following map shows my route, starting at upper right, crossing over the entrances to the docks, then walking through parts of North Woolwich towards Silvertown (© OpenStreetMap contributors):

The above map shows just two entrances, one to the basin which connects to the Royal Albert Dock, and a longer entrance that connects to the King George V Dock, however there were originally three entrance locks, as shown in the following map from when the docks were operational:

The lower entrance to the Basin has been filled in, although there is a short stretch remaining of the old lock where it meets the Basin, and where it originally entered the Thames.

The upper entrance, the locked stretch of water between the Thames and the Basin remains, however today has a much smaller lock gate, as the point in the lock where the gate is located has been narrowed by a rectangular block of land built over the channel where the lock gate is located.

In the following photo, the impounding station that was at the end of last week’s post is just behind the new block of apartments on the right, and you can see how the lock has been narrowed, as I am standing on the infill, and the original width of the lock can be seen after the last lamp post:

The following photo is from Britain from Above and shows the three locked entrances (Source: EAW008722 ENGLAND (1947). The Royal Albert Dock and the King George V Dock, North Woolwich, 1947):

The red rectabgle on the right is the infill over part of the lock, with the new lock gate being the red line. The infill enabled a much smaller lock gate to be fitted (and presumably at much lower cost), than the original lock gates.

The yellow rectangle over the middle lock is the area that has been filled in, and the red dashed line is the walking route I took to bypass a closed road, and get from the old position of the central lock to the large lock that connected the Thames with the King George V Dock, on the left of the photo.

The three locks in the above photo became the only route into the Royal Docks complex after 1928. By that time, the lock gates at the western entrance to the Royal Victoria Dock had reached the end of their useful life, and the roller paths at the bottom of the gates were causing problems.

There was also very little left of the original concrete base to the lock. It appears that dredging had gradually removed the concrete base over the 70 years that the lock had been in use.

The lock was repaired and strengthened, although a decision was made to restrict the western entrance to the Royal Victoria Dock to barge traffic only, with the three entrances at Gallions Reach then becoming the only entrances for shipping.

Standing in the lock and looking towards the Basin shows the much smaller width of the lock gate:

On the left of the above photo is a small building which I think houses the switch gear to control the lock gates. A sign on this building shows one of the rules to prevent rabies infection:

Although the original lock gates have been removed, some of the machinery that was used to control them can still be seen, embedded in the side walls, and below this (although difficult to see) are numbers indicating the depth of water, carved in the stone of the side wall:

Looking out to the Thames from the lock – just imagine how many ships have arrived to, and departed from the Royal Albert Dock through this entrance:

Buildings, and bollards for ship’s ropes still line the side of the lock:

On both sides:

View across the lock showing the proximity of the new housing developments:

At the end of that part of the lock where the width has been narrowed, looking up towards the Basin, along the original width of the lock:

The Gallions entrance lock to the Albert Dock was upgraded in the early 1950s.

The floor of the lock was found to be curved, and whilst this was acceptable for Victorian shipping with curved hulls, shipping by the 1950s had almost flat bottoms to maximise cargo space.

The lock was also chain operated, and the system was 70 years old, and reaching the end of its useable life.

The problem with upgrading the lock was that it needed to be empty of water, and a wall of some type was needed towards the Thames and towards the Royal Albert Dock, as if water flooded in from the dock it could cause an incredible amount of expensive damage to the ships in the dock, if the water level suddenly reduced.

The first method used was by building a dam of granite blocks across the end of the lock. When the dam was tested, there was horizontal movement within the layers of blocks, and a scour hole of some 20 feet deep had formed in the chalk below the lock.

The dam of granite blocks was replaced by a dam of a double layer of sheet piling with 70 foot long piles driven 15 feet into the chalk below the lock.

The area around the lock also had to be de-watered to reduce the pressure pushing on the lock walls from the land surrounding the lock. This was done by installing 34 deep wells around the lock of 24 inches diameter, with a 12 horse power submersible pump in each that worked to reduce the level of ground water around the lock, and hence the pressure on the lock walls.

The work to reshape the bottom of the lock, and to make repairs were completed by 1956 when the lock reopened.

Standing by the side of the lock it looks like a stable volume of water within concrete walls, however the details in the paragraphs above show the complexity of the structure, the huge forces that water at either ends of the lock, and within the surrounding ground, exerted on the lock.

They are remarkable examples of complex civil engineering.

Nine years ago, I took the following photo of the entrance to the lock from the river, when the new apartment buildings next to the lock were being built:

If you have walked the Capital Ring, then the route I am taking across the lock entrances to the Royal Docks is probably familiar:

Once across the lock, and I enter a very different landscape. Where all of my walk around the Royal Albert Dock so far, has been through developed land, or open space waiting to be developed, the space between the old dock entrances is an area devoid of people, a number of apparently derelict buildings, and empty space:

They really do not want you to stray off the road, probably sensible as the docks are of deep water:

The road has a name – Gallions Road, and it runs from the first lock that I crossed, up to Woolwich Manor Way, although do not expect to see any people, cars or lorries on this road:

The road is called Gallions Road and the title of the blog post is “The Gallions Reach Entrances to the Royal Docks”, so where does Gallions come from?

If you want to locate a place, then it needs a name, and this is no different with the River Thames. So much once went on along the river, that names were useful to refer to each stretch, and Gallions Reach was the name given to the part of the Thames roughly from Woolwich to Barking Creek.

The Gallions name comes from the Galyons family, who owned land along this part of the river in the 14th century.

With the way we use the river today, names such as Gallions Reach are not often heard, although the original Galyons is in use for the hotel in the previous post and the Gallions Reach Shopping Park is in nearby Beckton.

The name was used very many times to describe events on the river in previous centuries, and I have seen both Gallions, Gallion’s and Galleons used as spellings. Many of the uses describe some very dramatic events, such as in May 1816 when there was a armed fight on the Thames.

A boat carrying dollars to India was moored on the river at Greenwich. Due to the value of the cargo, armed guards were on board. A boat appears with two men onboard and comes up against the boat carrying the dollars. As there are only two people on board there is not much concern.

As the boat comes alongside, 20 armed “pirates” emerge from under a tarpaulin and swarm onto the cargo boat, threatening to kill the crew. A shooting fight breaks out as the crew fight back with blunderbusses.

The pirates manages to grab boxes of dollars (to the value of £7,000 in 1816), and they then flee on their boat. The report continues:

“It would seem from the speedy approach of day-light and the slackness of the tide immediately after the robbery was committed, the villains were afraid to venture on shore with their stolen property, and had therefore deemed it expedient to sink the whole, or part of the chests, as they supposed within the low water mark, in Gallions Reach; for about seven o-clock, at low water, three of the chests were observed uncovered on the shore, where they had been just left by the tide.”

In some respects, in past centuries, the Thames was a city in its own right, there were so many people working and travelling on the river and there were newsworthy events on the river almost every day.

The report on the theft of the dollars (they were in chests, so I am assuming some form of silver dollar) concludes by saying that of the £7,000 stolen, only £3,000 had been recovered, so perhaps there are some early 19th century dollars still to be found in the muds of the Thames at Gallions Reach.

Back to the 21st century, and I am continuing along Gallions Road, with the approach lights to London City Airport to my right. The proximity of the land between the dock entrances and the runway probably limits what can be built here as any high rise buildings would extend too far into the approach path:

And here the road is closed. No mention of why, but I cannot get any further:

However there is another route, and just to the left of the above photo is this footpath which heads up towards the river (the footpath is marked by the red dashed line in the Britain from Above photo earlier in the post):

In the above photo there is a car on the left. There was a large dog in the rear barking at me as I walked past, with a security man sitting in the front seat.

What they were guarding is shown in the following photo – some derelict land and a large shed. The lower lock into the Basin at the end of the Royal Albert Dock once ran across the land in the foreground of the photo below (the orange rectangle in the Britain from Above photo earlier in the post):

Nine years ago, I took the following photo of the block up entrance to the lower lock from the river:

At the end of the first stretch of footpath, it does a ninety degree bend and ruins alongside the Thames on the left, with thick bushes on the right hand side. It was a sunny, warm day, and what was remarkable about this footpath were the huge number of butterflies in the bushes, and as I walked along the footpath, they would rise from the bushes then fly back in. I have never seen so very many in one place.

Looking back along the footpath, with the Thames just visible on the right:

And at the end of the stretch that runs parallel with the Thames, there is another ninety degree bend, again with thick bushes and butterflies on the right, and some derelict land on the left:

At the end of which, there are steps:

And over the steps, a footpath which leads down to the lock that connects the King George V Dock to the River Thames:

At the end of the footpath, I reach the walkway over one of the lock gates:

This lock is massive, and I believe is still of the same dimensions as when the King George V Dock was built, and opened in 1921.

The following photo is looking towards the King George V Dock from the middle of the lock gates closest to the Thames. There are two other sets of lock gates, and the bridge in the distance carries the Woolwich Manor Way over the lock, where it joins the main dock:

The lock is still in use, providing access for ships to and from the Royal Dock complex, and the bridge in the distance, carrying Woolwich Manor Way over the lock is a Bascule Bridge and consists of two cantilevered steel box girder leaves which taper towards and meet at the middle. The bridge opens much as Tower Bridge does, with the two sections rising from the middle, and can swing by roughly 90 degrees, therefore opening up almost vertically.

The current bridge dates from 1990, replacing an earlier bridge, which also opened to allow ships to move between dock and lock.

Looking out to the Thames from the middle of the lock gate (standing in the middle of the relatively narrow lock gate, you get the feeling that you are suspended above two huge, dynamic stretches of water):

The King George V Dock was the last major dock to be built in London, and, as with the other two docks that make up the Royal Docks was on a massive scale. The lock entrance between the dock and the Thames was the largest entrance on any London Dock.

I have a one of the book’s issued to mark the opening of the dock on the 8th of July 1921, and the book describes the lock as follows:

“Ships will enter from the river through an entrance lock 800 feet long by 100 feet wide with a depth of water on the sill of 45 feet below Trinity high water, equivalent to 41 feet 8 inches at high water of ordinary neap tides. Its length is divided into two compartments of 550 feet and 250 feet by three pairs of steel lock gates, each leaf of which weighs 309 tons, operated by direct acting hydraulic rams. By the use of a floating caisson, for which provision has been made at the inner end, the effective length of the lock can be increased to 910 feet.

The lock walls have been constructed of eight to one mass concrete with a four to one face, and are founded in chalk, 65 feet below coping level, the thickness of the wall at the bottom being 21 feet. The floor, also of concrete, is 11 feet 9 inches thick in the middle.

Two entrance jetties project a distance of 480 feet into the river, and form a bellmouth 675 feet wide across the outer extremity.”

The details of the thickness of the lock walls and base give some idea of some of the pressures that the lock had to withstand – water pressure, added to when large ships passed through the lock, and pressure from within the land surrounding the dock, acting on the inside of the lock walls.

The lock seems to be in the same configuration today, with three pairs of lock gates, with a shorter section between the two gates nearest the river, and a longer section between the two gates nearest to the dock.

With the lock being full of water, it is difficult to see the massive scale of the structure. The book issued at the opening of the dock includes a number of photos which show the lock under construction, the first shows the lock being built, empty of water:

The second photo shows “one of the three pairs of lock gates”, and as described in the text, each side of the lock gates weighs 309 tons:

To put the scale of the above photo of the lock gates into context, look at the very bottom centre of the photo, and you can just see two figures, I have enlarged just this small section in the photo below:

In the above photo you can also see the roller and the roller path at the outer edge of one of the lock gates. This roller supported the gate as it was opened or closed.

Looking back over the walkway over the outer lock gate:

The three lock gates in the lock to the King George V Dock are still fully operational, and part of the opening and closing mechanism can be seen coming from the side of the quay, where the rest of the mechanism is located:

A final look out to Gallions Reach, the part of the Thames where the three locks at the eastern end of the Royal Albert and King George V provided access to and from the Royal Docks:

Again, imagine all the ships, cargo and people who have passed through this lock. One example is the Blue Star Line “Almeda” shown in the following photo in the entrance lock to the King George V Dock on the completion of her maiden voyage with passengers from Argentina on the 6th of April, 1927:

The area between the upper lock to the Royal Albert Basin and the lower lock to the King George V is a really interesting area. Empty and derelict, the only person I saw was the security man with his dog sitting in the car.

On leaving the lock into the King George V dock, the area changes dramatically, and we enter streets lined by housing that has been built over the last couple of decades:

I walked through this new estate, and onto Woolwich Manor Way, and where the name changes to Albert Road at the junction with Woodman Street, on the corner was a large, closed pub, now converted into residential:

This was the Roundhouse. The pub does not appear in the 1895 OS map, but there was a large corner pub on a street corner just to the north.

This pub was demolished when the King George V dock was built, and I wonder if the Roundhouse was built after this nearby pub was demolished.

The Roundhouse closed in 2003, and then converted to residential.

Directly opposite the pub is Barge House Road:

Barge House Road has pre-war housing on the western side of the street. There is a plaque up on the wall of the house facing onto Albert Road, but the date on the plaque has been worn a bit too much to be read.

In the 1895 OS map, the street is shown (but without a name), and there is no housing on either side of the street, so I suspect it was built as part of the development of the area when the King George V dock was built.

There was though a pub (called the Barge House) at the southern end of the street, and a small dock into the river.

The dock is listed in the PLA 1980s listing of “Steps, Stairs and Landing Places on the Tidal Thames”, as the “Old Barge House Drawdock”. A drawdock was a place where boats could be drawn out of the river for loading / unloading, for maintenance etc.

The dock is still partly there, and I will visit in a future post.

The next street along is Woolwich Manor Way, a continuation of the street that runs over the lifting bridge over the lock into King George V Dock, with houses on the eastern side of the street and the Royal Victoria Gardens opposite (again, the date on the plaque on the end house is too worn to see the date of construction):

I walked from Albert Road up to Woodman Street as there was a pub I wanted to see, all that is left of the Royal Oak in a remarkable example of where the façade of the pub has been retained, and a very different building completed around and above:

Close up showing the lovely green tiling of the old Royal Oak and a “Truman’s Beers, Eagle Brand” tiled sign:

The Royal Oak was in business by the early 1870s, and was a typical east London pub, however bombing during the Second World War resulted in the loss of the upper floors.

Remarkably, the Royal Oak continued to trade using just the remaining ground floor.

The pub finally closed around 2010 / 2011, was purchased for redevelopment as apartments, with planning permission that new apartments could be built, but the lower floor had to be retained, and possibly reopen as a pub.

Whilst the new apartments have been completed and appear occupied, what remains of the Royal Oak looks to be gradually deteriorating. I have no idea if anything remains of the interior of the orginal pub, or whether it is just the outer facade that has been retained.

There appears to be no progress in converting / restoring or reopening the ground floor as a pub, or as any other business.

A real shame:

When writing the blog, I really do try and get all my facts right, and I am very grateful to readers who point out any errors (thankfully very few).

The Internet can be an excellent source of factual information, and it can also propagate errors, and I am very conscious of this when writing a post, as I do not want to include errors that others may therefore take as fact.

When researching the Royal Oak, I found a number of websites that associate the Royal Oak in Woodman Street, North Woolwich with the naming of Arsenal Football Club.

Arsenal was originally named Dial Square, after one of the workshops at the Woolwich factory.

After a win in December 1886, the club met in the Royal Oak, and decided to change name to  Royal Arsenal, a name which lasted until 1893 when the name changed to Woolwich Arsenal.

A number of websites claim the Royal Oak was the one I have photographed, for example one site stating the Royal Oak in north Woolwich, and another the Royal Oak at 83 Woodman St, London, E16 2LN, but also mentioning the Woolwich Arsenal Station which is south of the river.

The official history of Arsenal, on the club’s website also refers to the Royal Oak, but next to Woolwich Arsenal Station, which is the correct location of the Royal Oak in question.

Probably an issue with two pubs called the Royal Oak, but one south of the river next to Woolwich Arsenal, and the other north of the river in North Woolwich.

The King George V dock is very close, but nothing can be seen of the dock due to buildings and high walls, however there is an occasional a glimpse that the dock is there down some of the side street off Woodman Street, where, for example, the top of Light Vessel 93, moored in the King George V dock can be seen:

I will cover the light vessel in a future post.

At the end of Woodman Street is Pier Parade, where North Woolwich library can be found:

North Woolwich Police Station, which opened in 1904 on the corner of Albert Road and Pier Road:

The building still appears to be in use as a Police Station, but the “front counter” was closed in 2013.

There is a very detailed spreadsheet available on the Metropolitan Police website that details all the station closures between 2010 and 2023, listing the 126 closures during this period, and whether it was the just the front counter, or the whole police station.

For those fully closed, the spreadsheet also lists the purchaser of the site and the price paid. The spreadsheet can be found here.

Opposite the police station is the Royal Standard, seems to be open as a pub, but also as a resturant:

Diagonally opposite to the pub is the following terrace of buildings of mixed age and style, but mainly pre-war, on Pier Road, the street that leads to the Woolwich ferry:

A bit further along Albert Road, on the corner with Fernhill Street is a rare sight in east London, a relatively modern pub, the Henley Arms:

The current Henley Arms was opened in 1966, replacing an 1860s pub with the same name that stood closer to the corner of Albert Road than the current pub.

The Henley Arms is a survivor from a time when there were so many pubs in the area. I have walked a relatively short distance along Albert Road. Between the Roundhouse and the Henley Arms is 900 metres, and the 1956 edition of the OS map shows nine pubs, so one every one hundred metres. This does not include pubs such as the Royal Oak or the Barge House which were between Albert Road and the docks, and the river.

The majority were large corner pubs, and all would have been busy.

The closure of the Royal Docks started their decline, and in the following decades there was the typical story of closure and redevelopment as residential.

That is another part of the area around the Royal Docks, North Woolwich and Silvertown explored. The area where the three locks were, between the docks and the Thames at Gallions Reach is a very unique area, and I hope that when it is developed, as it inevitably will, the locks, their scale, construction and history is retained and highlighted, as the place where very many thousands of ships and people, and millions of tons of cargo entered and left London’s largest dock complex.

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Royal Albert Dock and London City Airport

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After last Sunday’s diversion, I am back in the Royal Docks, this time exploring the second of the three individual docks that make up the overall “Royals” dock complex – the Royal Albert Dock.

The following map shows the Royal Albert Dock (the top of the two docks), and the red dotted line shows the walk I am covering in today’s post, with some of the key buildings circled. I am starting at the red oval to the left of the map. There is so much to find around this part of east London, that it will take a couple of posts to cover  (© OpenStreetMap contributors).

I also have an error to own up to. In my original post on the history of the Royal docks, I included a number of photos that my father had taken, describing them all as being of the Royal Victoria Dock. From some comments and emails received (thanks for all the comments, they are all read and appreciated), from people who had worked in, and known the area well, the photo showing ships lining the sides of a dock was in fact the Royal Albert Dock:

Whilst all the other photos had identifiable features, and were of the Royal Victoria Dock, my father must have started his walk around the Royal Victoria Dock at the eastern end of the dock, where it joined the Royal Albert, and where there was a good view along the Royal Albert, so the above photo is of the Royal Albert Dock, and is where I am walking in today’s post.

I started the walk at the appropriately named Royal Albert Station on the Docklands Light Railway:

One of the few surviving buildings from when the docks were operational is located right next to the DLR station, this is the Compressor House (light blue oval in the map):

The Compressor House dates from 1914 and was originally a warehouse providing cold storage for cargo shipped via the Royal Docks:

The Compressor House featured in a document released by the Mayor of London back in May 2024. The document covers the “leasehold disposal of Compressor House, for 10 years, to Really Local Group to deliver a project that addresses priorities of good growth, levelling up and Royal Docks placemaking; and provides best value for the GLA Land and Property Limited commercial asset.”

Apparently the building retains many original internal features such as hoists, rails and winching machinery. Plans for the building include a café, rooms for hire, including for exhibitions and performances, and a learning / meeting room.

I love the terms used in documents talking about the benefits of a project, as the Mayor of London document talks about linking the surrounding communities with the Royal Docks, through “in this case through the lens of digital inclusion”. I have no idea what this means.

It would be really good to make publicly accessible use of the building – providing the original features are retained, along with the story of how the building was once part of the Royal Docks success.

Arms of the Port of London Authority and the date of 1914 displayed above the door.

From the Royal Albert DLR station, and the Compressor House, it was a very short walk to the side of the Royal Albert Dock:

There is a wide walkway along the northern edge of the dock, with some recent developments along the side, but what impresses is the enormous expanse of water. The above view is looking east, and the view below is looking to the west, where the bridge can be seen that marks the point where the Royal Albert meets the Royal Victoria Dock:

Whilst there has been less development along this side of the Royal Albert Dock, along the south of the dock, where there is a strip of land between the Royal Albert and King George V dock, there is the result of one of the first major infrastructure projects around the Royal Docks, that was, and continues to be an issue for many local residents, and which made the Royal Docks a significant transport hub for London. This is London City Airport, where from the north side of the dock, you can watch planes landing and taking off, where there were once warehouses:

View across to the terminal buildings at London City Airport:

The idea for an airport in the docklands came from the London Docklands Development Corporation in the early 1980s. The concept was for an airport that would service the business centres of the City of London, and the proposed development centered on Canary Wharf in the Isle of Dogs.

The airport would offer swift access from these centres of business, with minimal waiting time at the airport. Almost a “turn up and fly” approach, rather than the longer travel out to airports such as Heathrow and Gatwick, with the lengthier times for check-in, security etc. as well as often delayed take-offs and landings.

The airport was built by the civil engineering and construction company, Mowlem, between 1986 and 1987.

Incidentally, one of the best books I have on the construction and engineering of the London Docks is “London Docks 1800 – 1980 by Ivan Greeves (1980)”. (I will give a long list of the books and sources I have used in the final post on the Royal Docks).

Ivan Greeves was a fellow of the Institution of Civil Engineers and a Director of John Mowlem, and Mowlem had been involved with many of the civil engineering projects around the London Docks. Greeves’ book is a wonderful detailed civil engineering history of the London Docks.

There were many publications by both the LDDC and other publishers, as the development of the docklands got underway. I collected as many as I could, and one was the magazine “Vistas”, published by the London Docklands Publishing Consortium, and in issue 2. Spring 1987, the first two airlines that would use London City Airport, which would open later in the year were featured:

The first two airlines were Brymon Airways and Eurocity Express, and an article in Vistas explains the airlines plans, and the type of service they intended to operate from the new docklands airport.

There is also a photo showing London City Airport under construction, when it occupied just the land between the Royal Albert and George V docks:

The article continues, with both airlines explaining the benefits of flying from London City Airport, with Brymon fully focused on the business traveler, and Eurocity Express also focused on the business traveler, but also expecting a share of leisure travelers:

It was a Brymon flight that had helped prove that planes could take off and land from short landing strips in the docklands, when in 1982 a Brymon Dash 7 aircraft landed at Heron Quays in Canary Wharf.

Eurocity Express changed name to London City Airways in 1988 to more closely align the identity of the airline with London City Airport, but would suffer financial collapse two years later in 1990.

In the late 1980s I worked for a company that was split between London and Amsterdam and did use London City Airport a number of times. It was a really fast airport to get through, whether arriving or departing, and the best bit was always coming into land, with the steep approach, and good views of the surrounding docklands.

I did take my camera a number of times, but cannot find the negatives. Hopefully one day.

Old and new industries / business around the Royal Docks – planes at London City Airport, with the Tate and Lyle factory in the background:

After opening, the airlines operating from London City Airport used propeller driven airplanes such as the Dash 7. These carried relatively few passengers when compared to larger jet aircraft, however they were more than capable of landing and taking of from a short runway.

The airport served business centres close to the UK, such as Amsterdam and Paris, and in the following years the destinations served, as well as the number of passengers grew considerably (including New York for a short time).

An extension to the airport opened in 1992. Access to the airport improved in 2005 when a DLR station was opened at the airport, and in 2008, additional aircraft parking space was opened on an extension to the airport built on piles over part of the King George V dock.

Jet aircraft started to use the airport in the early 1990s, and today jet aircraft run the majority of services, with a small number of propeller driven aircraft still operating.

In the first full year of operation, 133,000 passengers passed through London City Airport. In August of this year, the Government approved the expansion of the airport to increase capacity from 6.5 million to 9 million, with more weekend and early morning flights.

Flight destinations and the target traveler have also moved on from the initial business market, and when I had a look in the terminal building there seemed to be just as many people, if not more, going away for leisure, including families, than business.

I am writing this on a Friday evening, and I had a look at the first flight on Saturday morning which is a British Airways flight to Ibiza – definitely not one of the original target markets.

There is not much going on along the north bank of the Royal Albert Dock, and whilst I was walking, on a summer’s weekday morning, there were very few people around., so in this quiet place, it is strange to hear the sound of a jet aircraft taking off, or the quitter sound of a landing, at regular intervals:

There is a certain symetry between the airport and the old docks. The docks transported cargo all over the world and the airport is now flying people.

The north bank of the dock is really quiet, as this view along the walkway demonstrates:

And with it being such a peaceful environment, it is hard to imagine just how busy the Royal Albert Dock was, and what a sight it must have been, with so many ships coming and going, and vast amounts of cargo being shifted between warehouses, transit sheds, quayside, lighters and ships, as the following photo of the dock demonstrates:

The warehouses that ran alongside the length of the dock were not meant for long term storage, most were transit sheds as this was their main purpose, to temporarily hold cargo as it transited from ship to destination, or from source to ship.

The following photo shows a typical transit shed at the Royal Albert Dock:

And an innovation across the Royal Docks was the use of the railway as a means of transport. The docks were threaded through with rail lines allowing the movement of goods within the docks, and out onto the wider mainline rail networks, as the following photo of a cold store, along with overhead conveyors between buildings, shows:

Continuing the walk along the Royal Albert Dock, and I have reached a series of office blocks:

I have no idea who thinks of the slogans that often try to attract people or companies to new properties, “Regenerative Audacious Disruptive” and “Where Paradigms Shift” – totally meaningless – although I suppose that if a company moved their office to one of these blocks, with so few facilities or other businesses around, it would genuinely be “disruptive”:

Although they do have a good view along the dock, and across to the towers on the Isle of Dogs:

All these office blocks appear to be unoccupied, and they are a testament to an over hyped scheme that was entirely dependent on foreign investment and foreign businesses.

A headline in the Guardian on the 30th of May, 2013 read “Chinese to develop slice of British imperial past: Royal Albert Dock due to be Asian business park by 2023: Transformation of London site could bring 20,000 jobs”.

The article below the above headline reported that the Chinese developer Advanced Business Park had signed a £1 billion agreement with London Mayor Boris Johnson to develop a 35 acre site alongside the Royal Albert Dock with offices and shops, with the aim of attracting Asian businesses to set-up their European head quarters at the site, as well as British companies who do business in Asia.

At the signing of the agreement, Boris Johnson said that it would be “London’s third great business area” and that it “will restore jobs and growth to the Royal Docks, an area . . . that has been in more or less continuous decline for 50 or 60 years”.

The parts of the development that have been completed seem to have been mainly empty since completion, and the 20,000 jobs have not materialized.

In 2022 newspaper headlines reported that the “Royal Albert Dock a ghost town as developer goes bankrupt”. This was ABP Investment Ltd, the Beijing based original property developer.

In May, 2024 the Greater London Authority was looking for a new developer for the land alongside the northern edge of the Royal Albert Dock, as from the original 2013 agreement, only about 10% had been built, and this 10% was mainly empty office blocks.

The central street through the existing office blocks is called Mandarin Street, reflecting the Chinese heritage of the original developer and investment:

Leaving Mandarin Street, and the empty office blocks behind, I continue walking on past the empty land that should by now, based on the 2013 agreement, have seen 20,000 people working here:

Look left from my position when taking the above photo and there are some really good, original buildings from the time of the working docks, and this is the Dock Manager’s Offices (green oval in the map at the top of the post):

Grade II listed and built in 1883 by Vigers and Wagstaffe. The name of the building should explain what went on here – it was from where the Royal Docks were managed, where the dock records were kept and administered.

A second building, alongside the Dock Managers Office is the Central Buffet, also by Vigers and Wagstaffe, dating from 1883, and is also Grade II listed.

The Central Buffest appears to have been a café / restaurant for workers and for passengers traveling via the Royal Docks. It also appears to have been used as a pub, as this report from the 6th of December 1897 explains;

“BETTING AT THE ROYAL ALBERT DOCKS – At Stratford Police court on Saturday, Thomas Clarey, a lighterman, of 49, freemasons-road, Custom-house, was summoned on six information’s for using the Central Buffet, a public-house in the Royal Albert Docks, for the purpose of betting with other persons, and Henry James Morgan, the secretary of the London and India Docks Joint Committee, the holder of the licence of the Central Buffest, was summoned for permitting the place to be used for the purposes of betting.”

A “barmaid” was also called to give evidence, so the Central Buffet was certainly also working as a pub.

The Dock Managers Office and the Central Buffet are remarkable buildings, and from their appearance they would be more expected in the suburbs, or as a country house, rather than in the industrial east London docks.

Winged figure with trumpet on top of the Central Buffet:

A look along the Royal Albert Dock, and there is still much of the dock behind me, and in the distance, out of sight in the photo below, is the Royal Victoria Dock. You really need to walk alongside the Royal Docks to fully appreciate the sheer scale of these manmade temples to London’s trade:

Vessels berthed at the Royal Albert Dock:

More shipping in the Royal Albert Dock:

New Quays added to the Royal Albert Dock in the 1930s:

The following photo shows how cargo could be loaded to and from lighters as well as the quayside. The Royal Albert Dock was known as a dock where goods of all sorts could fine the appropriate facilities for unloading, storage and distribution:

All very different today as I walk along a mainly silent quayside, with just the occasional take off or landing on the other side of the water to disturb the peace.

London City Airport is on the south side of the Royal Albert Dock, however there was a second, short term airstrip on the north side of the dock.

In 2007, the Red Bull air racing event took place in London, and the long open space alongside the north of the dock proved ideal for the pits area and runway for the event.

If I remember correctly, the Red Bull race was also held in docklands in the following year, 2008, and these events had quite an impact on the London City Airport, as flights from the airport had to be suspended whilst Red Bull racing was underway.

Peer over a fence as you walk along the north side of the Royal Albert Dock, and parts of the overgrown runway can still be seen:

The RB in the runway designation of RB 28 stands for Red Bull. There is a photo of the runway in as new condition, and when in use for Red Bull Racing on the Abandoned Forgotten & Little Known Airfields in Europe website, which can be found by clicking here.

Further along the Royal Albert Dock, there are some recent buildings which have brought activity to the area, although as I was there during August, they were again very quiet.

These are educational establishments, and first is the London Design and Engineering UTC (University Technical College):

A UTC is a government funded school that offers 14 to 19 year olds a more focused technical and scientific educational, taught in a different way to a normal school.

The next building is the University of East London:

The area around these buildings should be much busier in school term time, but during August they just added to the sense that the northern section of the Royal Albert Dock needs a considered development plan to bring in more life, and benefits for the local community just outside of the dock, not just yet another area flooded with identikit apartment blocks.

Next to the university buildings there is the student accommodation, which includes several rather different, round blocks:

They are described as “having a nautical theme in homage to the shipping heritage of the area”:

They certainly have a good view, looking out on the dock, and with views of planes arriving and departing at the airport on the opposite side of the dock:

The Royal Albert Dock was opened on the 24th of June, 1880, and cost £2,100,000 to construct – a considerable sum of money at the time. I described the opening ceremony in my first post on the Royal Docks, here.

Although built not that long after the Royal Victoria Dock, the Royal Albert was needed to accommodate ships of larger size and deeper draught than the earlier Victoria Dock, as well as providing a significant amount of additional space for ships to dock, and the associated infrastructure for moving and storing cargo.

The Royal Albert Dock was 27 feet in depth (just 1.5 feet deeper than the Royal Victoria, but suffcient for the expected larger ships). The entrance from the Thames to the Royal Albert Dock was 550 feet in length and 80 feet wide.

The water area that the Royal Albert Dock occupied was 73 acres, compared to 66 acres for the Royal Victoria.

The Royal Albert Dock was the first London Dock to be lighted by electricity, and this helped the dock to be in use by both night as well as day.

Between the main dock area of the Royal Albert, and the locked entrance to the Thames was a basin. In the following photo, I am almost at the basin, and looking along the full length of the dock. A little way along the dock edge on the left, you can just see the entrance to the King George V Dock, which is to the south of the Royal Albert

Looking in the other direction at the basin, the area of water between the dock and the Thames:

The following map extract shows the eastern end of the Royal Albert Dock (upper length of water) with the basin connecting the dock to two entrances to the river:

Today, the area to the north of the basin has been redeveloped, and there are blocks of new apartment buildings to be seen. The area from the upper entrance to the river and down to the large entrance to the King George V dock is undeveloped, and is where we can see some of the old dock infrastructure, and get an impression of the size of the dock entrances.

Changes within the basin have added some routes across, including lifting bridges:

From this point, I took a very short detour to find another of the building that remain from when the docks were operational, the Galyons Royal Docks (purple oval in the map at the start of the post):

Originally the Gallions Hotel, it is Grade II* listed, and as with the Dock Managers Office and the Central Buffet, it was by George Vigers and T R Wagstaffe  and dates from the same period as it was built between 1881 and 1883:

The Civil & Military Gazette on November the 8th, 1893 carried an account of a visit to the Royal Docks, which included this description of the Gallions Hotel:

“At the Gallions Hotel you meet old salts and ships captains of all types; some, of the old-fashioned style, look as if they have just foregathered with their friends, Cap’en Cuttle and Bunsby, and shake their grizzled heads dolefully (as is the custom of grizzled heads all over the world) over the present degenerate age; they drink rum and hot water, with an enticing piece of lemon floating on the top out of fat glasses with a leg, called very appropriately ‘rummers’ and stir up the seductive beverage thoughtfully with a fat glass spoon.

Of a different stamp, and yet of the true British sailor breed are the smart young captains and mates who are standing each other whiskies and sodas (plenty of whisky and very little soda). The genial landlady knows them all, and has a greeting for each; they come and go at intervals, and in the meantime, have been round the world. It is a small journey now-a-days, this circumnavigation of the globe, and is thought nothing of at the Gallions. Many and curious are the tokens of affection and esteem brought home by these sailor men to their kind hostess; her parlour walls are simply covered with curios of every conceivable kind.”

The interior of the Gallion’s is interesting, and is perfectly described in the Historic England listing: “Notable interior with diagonal timber bracing of massive proportions to ground floor. Oak staircase with enriched balusters and newels. Main saloon contains huge timber bar and original fittings.”

The exterior is equally interesting, with a “roughcast first floor with plaster frieze by Edward Roscoe Mullins”:

According to the excellent book “Docklands – An illustrated historical survey of life and work in east London” (North East London Polytechnic – 1986), the Gallions Hotel was for the “use of liner passengers embarking at the adjacent jetty. A subway used to connect with the Royal Albert Dock Basin”. I have also read that the subway was more a covered walkway between hotel and boarding point for liners.

Whilst the Gallions Hotel (or Galyons using today’s spelling) is still a pub / restaurant today, it is now serving a very different clientele. Not a liner passenger or “old salts and ships captains” in sight.

There is another building nearby which is also still serving the same purpose. This is the Royal Docks Impounding Station (yellow oval in the map at the start of the post):

The purpose of an impounding station is to maintain the water level in the enclosed area of the docks.

The docks gradually loose water through evaporation, seepage through the walls of the dock, and through the lock gates, although this is less of a problem as the lock gates are infrequently opened these days.

To replace lost water, the impounding station pumps water into the docks from the Thames, and on the day of my visit, possibly difficult to see in the following photo, the impounding station was active, and water was upwelling in the area in front of the four pipes which route the water into the basin. The water was very mud coloured compared to the rest of the dock:

The impounding station was built in 1912 and was originally equipped with three steam driven pumps. These were replaced by four electrically powered pumps in 1954. 

There is a water intake in the Thames at Gallions Reach, and a 4m by 5.5m intake culvert connects to the impounding station, below which is a large wet well, where water from the intake is then pumped into the dock.

To put the operation of the building into perspective, each of the four pipes leading from the building into the dock are 70 inches in diameter, and through these, each pump and pipe carries 7150 litres of Thames water a second into the dock, and as an Olympic swimming pool is the usual measure when water is concerned, when all four pumps are working they would fill one of these swimming pools in one and a half minutes.

Whilst I have not seen inside the Royal Docks Impounding Station, a few years ago I did visit the impounding station at West India Dock, which you can read about in this post.

Arms of the Port of London Authority and date of construction on the impounding station:

The rear of the impounding station, also showing the new apartment buildings that have been recently built around the west end of the Royal Albert Dock:

By the end of the 19th century, the Royal Victoria and Royal Albert Docks were very busy places. Their colossal length could handle very many large ships at the same time. Cold stores, general warehouses and transit sheds were integrated with a rail network that ran within and around the docks, interconnecting the docks and with the wider national rail network.

Ships were getting larger and faster, and refrigerated shipping brought new opportunities to bring cargo into the country, however the success of the docks was also seen as a threat to many traditional businesses within the UK, as the following extract also from the Civil & Military Gazette on November the 8th, 1893 explains:

“The ships of this line (at any rate those employed in the frozen meat trade), go out with general cargoes round the Cape of Good Hope, and return around Cape Horn; they are away altogether about five months each trip. In addition to the mutton and lamb, a great trade is gradually springing up in butter and cheese, and many tons of these commodities are now imported into England. It seems a poor look out for the wretched British farmer, and something will have to be done for him before long, or the agriculturist in Britain will become as extinct as the dodo; he is undersold at all points, and cannot make a living from the soil.”

As has always been the case, the ability to import large quantities of a product frequently causes a conflict with internal producers which often cannot compete.

There is so very much to see around the Royal Docks, and in next week’s post, I will be walking through the more derelict part of the area, where the entrances between the Thames and the dock are located, walking across a large locked entrance, and then into North Woolwich and Silvertown.

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The Mermaid Theatre – Puddle Dock

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If you have been on my Puddle Dock walk, you will recognise this location, the old Mermaid Theatre alongside Puddle Dock.

Although I have written about Puddle Dock before (there is a link at the end of the post), I have not covered the Mermaid Theatre, so time to remedy that omission in today’s post.

The Mermaid Theatre is the brick building in the centre of the following photo:

Upper Thames Street is the road in the foreground. This was constructed on land reclaimed from the Thames foreshore as part of the late 1970s / early 1980s redevelopment of the whole area in the photo.

The street Puddle Dock, which occupies the site of the original Puddle Dock is the street to the left of the photo.

Another view of the Mermaid Theatre. This is not the original theatre, it was part of the redevelopment of the area when the surrounding office blocks were built, along with Upper Thames Street:

The following photo shows the original Mermaid Theatre building, the smaller building in the centre of the photo, alongside the edge of the Thames:

In the above photo, all the land in front of the theatre would be reclaimed to allow the move of Upper Thames Street to a new dual carriageway. New office blocks were built around the theatre and Puddle Dock, which can be seen to the left of the theatre, was filled in and the street with the same name constructed.

The story of the theatre, how it came to occupy this bomb damaged site, and its transformation to the place we see today, is the subject of today’s post.

The Mermaid Theatre was the dream of Bernard Miles and his wife, Josephine Wilson.

Bernard Miles was born in Uxbridge to a father who was a market gardener and mother who was a cook.

He went to school in Uxbridge and then Pembroke College, Oxford, and after university he took a job as a teacher, but he would not stay for long in this profession.

His first acting role was as the second messenger in a revival of Richard III, after which he joined a number of repertory companies taking on roles from a carpenter to an actor. He had London stage roles in the late 1930s and early 1940s, including touring with the Old Vic.

He also had a number of film roles starting with the 1932 film, Channel Crossing, and the films that followed included In Which We Serve (1942) and Great Expectations (1946), and he continued to have film roles through to his final film in 1988, The Lady and the Highwayman.

He also appeared on TV, with one of his best known roles as Long John Silver in a TV series and later TV film of Treasure Island. He would also play the role of Long John Silver when Treasure Island was put on at the Mermaid Theatre.

He perhaps overplayed the role of a pirate when he “kidnapped” the Governor of the Bank of England on a short river journey on the Thames, when he “relived” the Governor of a cheque for £25 in support of the Mermaid, and then used the event to claim that the Mermaid Theatre was supported by the Bank of England.

It was down to Bernard Miles enthusiasm for the Mermaid Theatre, his ability to fund raise, and his sheer hard work throughout the whole process, that took the Mermaid Theatre from idea through to a working theatre, opening in 1959.

To explore the story of the Mermaid Theatre, I will use the Press Information document issued for the official opening of the theatre at 6p.m. on Thursday the 28th of May, 1959:

The press pack starts with the background to the Mermaid:

“‘See the players well bestowed’, says Hamlet, and the City has obeyed his solemn injunction by helping to bring to fruition a dream born on Acacia Road, St. john’s Wood, nine years ago.

In the dream Bernard Miles and his wife, Josephine Wilson saw one of the most exciting small theatres in Europe rising against the blitzed warehouses of the City’s riverside. They saw a new and vital centre of entertainment thriving in the great business hub of the Commonwealth.

In that summer of 1951, they had built a small theatre in their back garden. Its stage and fittings had been planned by two brilliant young designers, Michael Stringer and Walter Hodges, and early in September the Mermaid Theatre opened with Kirsten Flagsted singing twenty-six performances of Purcell’s ‘Dido and Aeneas’. Her salary for the season was a bottle of stout a day.

This first season was such a success that it was decided to have another one the following year. This time Bernard and Josephine Miles had no idea that before long they would be building a real bricks and mortar theatre in E.C.4. But during the second Mermaid season, a good friend of the Miles’ brought the Lord Mayor, Sir Leslie Boyce, to see the production of Macbeth. It was the Lord Mayor who suggested that the Mermaid be brought to the City for Coronation Year.

So it came about that between May and August 1953, the Mermaid Company played 13 weeks on the Piazza of the historic Royal Exchange in the very heart of a City, theatre less for nearly 300 years. And 70,000 people paid to see the four productions. This solid support led the Miles’s to believe that there was a very real demand for drama in the City.

From this point the ball began to roll towards Puddle Dock. It was argued that if they could persuade the City Corporation to lease them a bombed site for a token rent and then build the theatre by public subscription, they could set it fee from rent and so bring the price down to a real pubic service and habit forming level.

And since the entire Box Office takings could then be spent on the productions, this freedom from rent would also act as a negative subsidy, giving vital artistic elbow room.

In 1956, the Corporation generously granted a lease of the Puddle Dock site, so rich in theatrical associations. Then began the task of raising the £62,000 required to build and equip the theatre.”

The Puddle Dock site provided by the City Corporation really was a bombed warehouse, as can be seen in the following photo with the warehouse that would become the Mermaid Theatre on the left, with Puddle Dock, with a moored barge, to the right of the warehouse:

Looking up what was Puddle Dock today, with the old Mermaid Theatre buildings on the right:

Following the provision of the warehouse site, the next step was to try and raise the money needed to build and equip the theatre. The press pack continues:

“COLLECTING THE MONEY: The Mermaid has been financed entirely by public subscription. By donations from banks, shipping companies, insurance companies, stockbrokers, the City livery companies, ordinary men and women all over the United Kingdom, indeed all over the world – in America, Australia, New Zealand, Africa, Spain, Portugal, France, Canada, Bermuda, Norway and Sweden.

The launching of the ‘buy-a-brick’ campaign in 1957 carried the Mermaid appeal across the world. Nearly 60,000 people have paid their half-crown for a brick in the venture.

There have been many delightful instances of individual generosity, many heart-touching stories of a very real and practical interest in the living theatre.

There is the old-age pensioner who write saying she would like to donate £5. Not having the ready cash, she asked to be allowed to subscribe on the ‘never-never’ – a down payment consisting of a savings book containing five shillings worth of 6d. savings stamps followed, and the installments are paid whenever she finds she has a bit to spare.

There is the 10-year-old boy in Hampstead who sent two half-crowns – ‘the profit I made on the pantomime Aladdin which I staged in my bedroom at Christmas’.

There is the man working next door to the theatre who every week for 2.5 years has clocked in to give his half-crown.

There is the school-girl who sent her 10 shilling birthday money – ‘It was given to me to spend on whatever I wanted most, and most of all I want four bricks in your theatre.”

There is the New Zealander who sent money for four ‘bricks’ on behalf of his ancestors who lived and worked in the City during the 18th and 19th centuries.

In addition to cash, covenants etc., the Mermaid has received many gifts of materials. Window frames, lavatory and wash basins, bricks, radiators, timber, electrical equipment, bars, tiles, piping, furniture, carpet. And the neighboring firms have helped by lending office accommodation and storage space; by donations of paper for our printing; by the free use of office machinery and facilities.”

A bit further up Puddle Dock and we can see where the entrance to the theatre dives under the 1980s office block:

Development of the Mermaid Theatre progressed as follows:

  • OCTOBER 1956; The Mermaid Theatre Trust is granted a lease of a bombed site in Puddle Dock. It is decided to incorporate the existing 4-ft thick walls in the design and simply bridge them with a concrete barrel roof. An appeal is launched for the £60,000 needed to complete and equip the building.
  • JULY 1957. Sufficient money has been collected for work to start on the site. An open-air concert is held on the site to mark the launching of the building programme. Artists include Amy Shuard, Denis Matthews, Harold Jackson, Larry Adler and Max Bygraves. Some 1000 people sat on park chairs on a bombed site open to the sky, and a mercifully fine evening gives a good send off to the Mermaid project.
  • SEPTEMBER 1957. The Lord Mayor of London launches a ‘buy-a-brick’ campaign to raise further funds for the theatre. He throws the first half-crown into a trunk on the steps of the historic Royal Exchange and appeals to the rank and file of City workers to support the venture. The two-week campaign brings some of the biggest names in show business into the streets and pubs of the City selling ‘bricks’. Over £3,000 is raised,
  • DECEMBER 1957. Work on the building advances. The site is a sea of scaffolding as work begins on the roof. Meanwhile the work of collecting money continues. Cheques roll in from the great mercantile exchanges, from banks and shipping companies, from stockbrokers, charitable trusts and insurance companies. From a host of firms and individuals.
  • MARCH 1958. The roof is on, A roof-warming party is held on the site. A torch lit at the stage door of the Theatre Royal, Drury Lane (London’s oldest theatre) is run through the streets to Puddle Dock by relays of the John Tiller Girls. on arrival at the Mermaid it is taken over by Norman Wisdom who casts it into the faggots beneath a 15-gallon cauldron of punch which is then served to the 1000 guests. Later, Norman joins the builders on the roof to drink a toast. Meanwhile, Sir Donald Wolfit, in a speech to the crowd, declares the roof ‘ well and truly no longer open’. The first stage of the building is complete.
  • JUNE 1958. Members of the Moscow Art Theatre Company pay a visit to the site. At tables under the new roof they sit down to a traditional English meal – roast beef and ale from the wood. During their visit, the director of the company, Mr. A. Golodovnikov, traces the M.A.T.’s seagull emblem in a block of cement as a permanent reminder of the visit. The Mermaid is made an honorary member of the M.A.T.
  • AUGUST 1958. the building is well advanced. the restaurant and dressing room area overlooking the river is nearing completion. Work has started on the seating ramp in the auditorium.
  • APRIL 1959. The auditorium and restaurant are complete. Work continues in the foyer.
  • MAY 1959. All is ready. A two year battle is won.

Before continuing with the story of the Mermaid Theatre, lets have a look at the location of the theatre, as the place today is very different compared to when the theatre opened in 1959.

The area around Puddle Dock was completely redeveloped in the late 1970s / early 1980s. New office blocks were built around the theatre, Puddle Dock was filled in, and replaced by the road that retains the name of the old dock, and the theatre was completely redeveloped.

This redevelopment resulted in the building that we see today, with a larger block to the south, overlooking the river, where the Mermaid Theatre restaurant and bar were located, the auditorium running back along the site of Puddle Dock, and the entrance to the theatre under the office block that spans Puddle Dock.

In the following photo, I am looking across the street Puddle Dock to the theatre entrance under the office block:

A close-up showing the glass windows of the entrance foyer, and a small passage running between the theatre and an office block to the left:

The late 1970s / early 1980s redevelopment of this whole area was significant, and included the reclamation of some of the Thames foreshore, and the rerouting of a historic London street.

The following map extract is from an early 1950s edition of the OS map. I have circled the word “ruin”, and this is the location of the ruined warehouse in the photo earlier in the post, and also the location of the Mermaid Theatre (Map ‘Reproduced with the permission of the National Library of Scotland“):

You will see that Upper Thames Street runs to the north of the ruined warehouse, and further along to where it joins Queen Victoria Street.

As part of the 1970s / 1980s redevelopment, the foreshore in front of the 1959 build of the Mermaid Theatre was reclaimed, and Upper Thames Street rerouted to run along this reclaimed land as a dual carriageway (the route of the red line in the above map), part of the Lower and Upper Thames Street changes that provided a dual carriageway from north of the Tower of London to join with the Embankment.

And where Upper Thames Street once ran – a typical Victorian street lined by large warehouses and offices, today, in front of the Mermaid Theatre, there is a short passageway. Upper Thames Street once ran along here:

A wider view:

When the Mermaid Theatre opened in 1959, the main entrance to the theatre was onto the original alignment of Upper Thames Street, where the short passageway is in the above photo.

The following photo shows the main entrance to the theatre, with Upper Thames Street (as confirmed by the street sign on the theatre) in front of the building – now a short, dark passageway:

if you walked into the entrance shown above, through the foyer and then into the auditorium, then this would have been your view down to the stage, with the original warehouse walls to left and right, and the new concrete roof above:

The view of the auditorium in the above photo may look rather basic, however at opening, the Mermaid Theatre had:

  • 500 theatre seats on a single sharply-raked tier
  • A stage of 48 feet wide by 28 feet deep
  • An extensive stage lighting system
  • The Mermaid was the first theatre in the country to have a stereophonic sound system, a donation from the Decca Record Company
  • Restaurant and snack bars
  • Eight dressing rooms with total accommodation for 50 to 60 actors. The dressing rooms were named after Wards of the City of London – Castle Baynard, Candlewick, Newgate, Cordwainer, Dowgate, Cripplegate, Broad Street and Queenhithe.

After opening, and throughout the 1960s and 1970s, the Mermaid Theatre was generally successful. An almost continuous run of different productions, apparently able to attract many of the leading actors of the time, as well as good audience numbers, although finances were always a challenge.

Bernard Miles and Josephine Wilson had the role of artistic directors, and Bernard Miles would occasionally also appear in one of the Mermaid’s productions.

The symbol of the Mermaid Theatre, on all their programmes, advertising etc., from the 1959 opening, was a mermaid, as shown on the cover of the programme for the 1972 production of Noel Coward’s Cowardy Custard:

The Mermaid was often struggling financially, so as well as the revenue from ticket sales, the theatre was always looking for additional sources of revenue, and as with theatres today, food and drink made up a large part of this.

In the Mermaid Theatre, there was the Riverside Restaurant, the Tavern Restaurant, the Whitbread Bar, the Charrington Bar and a Snack Bar:

The cast list from the 1972 production of Cowardy Custard:

When the area around the Mermaid Theatre was redeveloped, the theatre had to close for an extended period of time. This work involved the reclamation of the foreshore, build of a new embankment and the move of Upper Thames Street from the north of the theatre to the new dual carriageway to the south, filling in Puddle Dock, and build of the new road alongside the theatre, and the build of all the new office blocks that today surround the theatre.

The new route of Upper Thames Street is shown by the red line on the earlier OS map extract.

Bernard Miles was able to get some support for the rebuild of the Mermaid Theatre out of the developers of all the change, and this resulted in the slightly enlarged theatre building that we see today. However it also cost the Mermaid a considerable sum of money, and in the programmes that went with their early 1980s productions, they advertised the:

“MERMAID APPEAL – The Mermaid Theatre Trust offers warn thanks to those who have contributed in cash and in kind to the rejuvenation of the theatre. BUT, the hard winter of 1979 and the medieval and Victorian obstacles underground slowed up our rebuilding and combined with inflation to push up the cost of completing our existing building by £100,000. PLEASE HELP TO TOP US UP.”

The medieval and Victorian obstacles underground highlights that when the 1959 Mermaid was built, it was mainly built within the ruins of an existing building, and there was no need to go down below the surface for the majority of construction work.

When the Mermaid reopened in 1981, the first production was a musical version of the 17th century play Eastward Ho. This was a financial disaster and lost £80,000, and over the next two years, losses kept increasing to reach a total of £650,000.

One of the 1981 productions was “Children Of A Lesser God”, which opened on the 25th of August, 1981:

Which starred Trevor Eve, Elizabeth Quinn, and Irene Sutcliffe:

The above programme was one of the last to list Bernard Miles and his wife Josephine Wilson as Artistic Directors.

Two years after reopening, debts were so bad that the Trustees were forced to put the Mermaid up for sale.

Bernard Miles and Josephine Wilson stepped down as Artistic Directors.

The Mermaid Theatre was purchased by Ugandan Asian businessman Abdul Shamji through his property company Gomba Holdings.

Shamji was sentenced to 15 months imprisonment in 1989 following the collapse of the Johnson Matthey Bank, and the Mermaid Theatre then went through a series of different owners, and with different artistic directors and managers, however the theatre never reached the success in terms of productions, actors and audiences that it had done under Bernard Miles (although it had always struggled financially).

In 2000 it was basically a redundant building, and in 2002 it was scheduled for demolition as part of a redevelopment plan for the area (which never materialised), and in 2003 the Mayor of London blocked any demolition.

The theatre was used for a number of BBC concerts, and the formal end of the building as a theatre came in 2008 when the Corporation of London City Planning Committee removed the theatre license from the Mermaid Theatre.

When the Mermaid was opened in 1959, it was the first theatre in the City of London for almost 300 years, by the time the theatre was redundant, the City of London had a theatre at the Barbican, so there was probably no perceived need to, or interest in financially supporting the smaller Mermaid.

The building was then turned into an exhibition and conference centre, a role it continues to this day

Bernard Miles was recognised for his work both as an actor and with the Mermaid Theatre as in 1953 he was made a CBE, he was knighted in 1969 and in 1979 he was made a Life Peer as Lord Miles of Blackfriars in the City of London.

His choice as being titled “Lord Miles of Blackfriars” probably indicates his deep connection with Blackfriars and the Mermaid.

Whilst the Mermaid building is a reminder of Bernard Miles’ original dream of a new theatre in the City of London, there is almost nothing to remember Bernard Miles or Josephine Wilson around Puddle Dock.

The one exception requires a walk up to the walkway on Baynard House (one of the office blocks that were built as part of the major redevlopment of the area – the walkway can be accessed from stairs on Queen Victoria Street, and provides access to Blackfriars Station).

In this gradually decaying space can be found the Seven Ages of Man sculpture by Richard Kindersly:

A plaque on one of the side plinths near the sculpture records that the work was unveiled by Lord Miles of Blackfriars on the 23rd of April, 1980:

Bernard Miles continued to act after stepping down from the Mermaid Theatre, but these roles must have been difficult given his previous 30 years involvement with the Mermaid, from the initial idea through to stepping down as artistic director.

In 1983, he took on the role of Firs, the old retainer, in Lindsay Anderson’s production of the Cherry Orchard, at the same time as what could have been considered his very own cherry orchard, the Mermaid, was being sold.

Bernard Miles and his wife Josephine Wilson had put almost all their own money into the Mermaid Theatre, and in 1989 they had to move from their four bedroomed house in Canonbury to a flat.

Josephine died in 1990, she had been Bernard Mile’s strongest and most consistent supporter throughout their life together, and during the whole period of the Mermaid, from the original idea through to the loss of their roles with the theatre.

After the death of his wife, Bernard moved into a Middlesex nursing home, and it was rumoured that he only had his state pension to live on.

The Mermaid Theatre’s new management staged a gala benefit in his honour, and despite being confined to a wheel chair, and also partially deaf, we was able to hear the many tributes that were paid to him, whilst in the theatre that had been his main life’s work.

Bernard Miles died on the 14th of June, 1991. Obituaries after his death celebrate his role in the founding of the Mermaid Theatre and the challenges that he overcame in getting the idea of the theatre from a bomb damaged warehouse through to a working theatre in the City of London.

They also identify a number of shortcomings, that perhaps he never recognised his shortcomings as an actor, that he wanted to take on the great roles of theatre, but in the words of one obituary “he played them and was terrible in all of them”.

He was strongly loyal to his old actor and director friends, but again was blind to their inadequacies.

He also failed to listen to advice when he had an idea and wanted to see it through, which was one of the reasons why the Mermaid frequently struggled financially.

Despite these shortcomings, he was widely remembered with affection and for his achievement in bringing the Mermaid to the City of London, long before the Royal Shakespeare Company were established at the Barbican.

I have tried to visit the Mermaid, and to take some photos, however there has been no response to my requests.

A walk around the outside of the theatre shows the Mermaid surrounded by the developments of the 1970s / 80s, but this could all change as there are proposals for a wholesale redevelopment of the area, and it is one part of London that does need to change – one of the most unfriendly pedestrian places you will find in the City of London.

Nothing appears to remain from before the theatre was built (although I would love to know what is underneath the Mermaid), however I did find these two strange red painted metal objects to either side of one of the doors to the theatre:

They appear to be made of iron, and are completly out of place with their surroundings. Two thirds of the way up, there is a slot on both objects, the type of slot that looks as if a wooden plank would have been inserted to bar the way.

It would be interesting to know if these are survivors from the time before the Mermaid was built.

The Mermaid Theatre is a fascinating story of how one man’s single minded devotion to an idea, led to the founding of the first new theatre in the City of London in almost 300 years, and in many ways, also led to its downfall.

I hope in the redevelopment of the area, the story of Bernard Miles, Josephine Wilson, and the Mermaid Theatre does not get lost.

You may also be interested in my post on Puddle Dock And a City Laystall, and Queen Victoria Street and Upper Thames Street – A Lost Road Junction.

I will also be running the walk “The Lost Landscape and Transformation of Puddle Dock and Thames Street” in the summer of next year. Follow here on Eventbrite to get updates when new walks are available.

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