Category Archives: London Streets

A Sunday Morning Walk In Nine Elms

In photographing London, I try to get to places before they change, which is not an easy task given the rate of change in London. One area undergoing significant change is Nine Elms, and indeed the whole arc to the south of the river between Battersea Power Station and Vauxhall. This must be one of the largest construction sites in the country, with demolition of acres of industrial space, to make way for a forest of new apartment towers.

The most well known new occupant of this area is the United States Embassy, however the majority of the area is still a construction site and recent demolition has cleared a new area for development.

I am occasionally on the train between Clapham Junction and Waterloo and the train provides a perfect view of Nine Elms. I have been planning to take a walk around the area, but the view a couple of weeks ago prompted me to walk Nine Elms sooner rather than later.

The view from the train was the usual acres of cleared space ready for new construction, along with a range of new apartment towers in various stages of completion, however what caught my eye was at the edge of one of the recent blocks of demolition, a row of what looked to be early 19th century houses were visible. An unexpected sight given that this area was previously occupied by light industry, numerous courier companies, car repair businesses, markets etc.

Last Sunday I had a couple of hours spare in the morning. so I headed to Vauxhall to take a quick walk around Nine Elms, to find the houses I could see from the train. I also found hundreds of people making their way from Vauxhall to Nine Elms wrapped up against the cold of a January morning.

Walking across Vauxhall Bridge, I headed along Wandsworth Road to find the houses I had seen from the train. I have marked my full route around Nine Elms on the following map.

Nine Elms

Maps  © OpenStreetMap contributors. 

I have also added the times each photograph was taken to record a January Sunday morning in Nine Elms.

09:43

I found the houses I was looking for a short distance along the Wandswoth Road, just before the junction with Miles Street. A terrace of six houses with three taller on the left and three shorter on the right.

Nine Elms

Of the six houses, a couple look as if they have been cleaned whilst the house on the far right looks rather strange when compared with the other five, one window per storey rather than two. They currently appear to be providing office space for activities associated with the redevelopment of the area.

Although Nine Elms may be considered a rather unattractive area, it has a fascinating history and has been a key location in the development of the railway system to the south of London.

The 1895 Ordnance Survey map provides a good overview of the area following the first wave of development, and also locates the houses that still stand on the Wandsworth Road.

The following extract from the map shows the railway running into Waterloo Station towards the top right of the map. The area between the railway viaduct into Waterloo and the river has a considerable amount of railway infrastructure, including the Nine Elms Depot, however there are also pockets of housing with an oval shaped area between Wandsworth Road and the viaduct and it is here that we can find the six houses.

Nine Elms

Credit: ‘Reproduced with the permission of the National Library of Scotland’ 

I have circled the six houses on the map, at the junction of Miles Street and Wandsworth Road. They are almost the only survivors from the nineteenth century, and it is surprising that these houses have lasted through successive waves of redevelopment.

The following map shows roughly the same area today as the 1895 map, again I have marked the location of the six houses.

Nine Elms

There is so much history in this area. In the first decades of the 19th century, various schemes were looked at to try and speed up the transport of goods and people arriving by sea into London, as from the Atlantic, the route along the south coast then along the Thames added a number of days and were dependent on weather and tide. One scheme considered the construction of a canal from Portsmouth to London, but in 1831 initial plans were made for a railway from Southampton to London, with the London terminus at Nine Elms.

Construction of the railway from Nine Elms to Southampton started with the route to Woking Common in 1838. In 1846, a train pulled by an engine named “The Elk” ran from Southampton to Nine Elms in 93 minutes. By comparison, an on-time journey today takes around 80 minutes, so not a significant difference (although there is no mention of the number of intermediate stops for “The Elk”).

Nine Elms closed as a passenger station ten years later when the viaduct into Waterloo was built and the London terminus of the railway moved to the first Waterloo Station. Nine Elms then provided space for a Locomotive Works, which closed in 1909 when the works moved to Eastleigh in Hampshire. Nine Elms also provided space for a large Goods Yard and this continued in operation until 1968.

This photo from 1938 shows the scale of the railway sheds and goods yard at Nine Elms.

Nine Elms

This post is already too long, so I will leave the history of the railways in Nine Elms for another time, and continue walking.

09:44

There was a continuous stream of people walking along Wandsworth Road, and just to the left of the six houses, one of the illegal betting scams normally seen on Westminster Bridge was in action, looking to take money from those streaming past – and probably those less able to manage the inevitable loss.

Nine Elms

This is obviously a problem in the area as there are signs up along the street advising people not to participate in these activities.

I walked past the houses and tuned into Miles Street and walked down to take a look at the rear of the buildings.

09:45

Nine Elms

This explained why one of the end houses looked so different. The view from the back shows that the end house appears to be a new build. The other houses in the terrace look original from the rear.

Hoardings lined the edge of Miles Street, hiding the areas of demolition that had opened up the view of these houses from the railway. There were a couple of gates where it was possible to peer through.

09:46

Nine Elms

The above photo is looking through a gate onto the open space between the six houses (on the immediate left) and the railway viaduct (out of view on the right). Vauxhall is in the distance and only part of the space is visible, there is more to the right. The demolition of the buildings in this area opened up the view of the six houses from the railway.

09:47

Nine Elms

The above view is from the point where Miles Street meets the railway viaduct. The large open space is behind the hoardings on the right and the six houses can be seen in the distance.

09:47

Just before the point where Miles Street passes under the viaduct there is a street running towards Vauxhall. The following photo shows this street and also highlights one of the problems of walking around this area, so many streets have been closed off for construction. This is happening so rapidly that online maps such as Google and OpenStreetmap are not up to date with changes in the area.

Nine Elms

The above view is looking along the viaduct towards Vauxhall and Waterloo. Looking in the opposite direction and there are new buildings and a walkway alongside the viaduct – this was the direction that I decided to follow.

09:47

Nine Elms

A newly surfaced walkway runs alongside the viaduct and what appears to be a new student accommodation building on the right.  Further along this walkway is a rather strange survivor from the 19th century.

09:49

At the end of the student accommodation building is this strange wall.

Nine Elms

On the opposite side of the wall is a small electricity substation, so I am not sure if this is the reason why the wall has survived, I can see no other reason. The wall is not at right angles to the viaduct, it is slightly angled. The following is a detailed extract from the 1895 Ordnance Survey map. Miles Street is at the top and the route of the walkway is from Miles Street down, along the edge of the viaduct. Halfway along there is a large building, at an angle to the viaduct. I suspect that the wall is the remains of the uppermost wall of this building, the section where it is joined on to the smaller building at the end of the Laundry.

Nine Elms

No idea why the wall has been retained, however I really do hope that it remains exactly as it is, a shadow of the many buildings that once occupied this area over a century ago.

09:49

Goal on the viaduct:

Nine Elms

The end of the walkway joins Wandsworth Road, which I crossed over to walk along Parry Street. This is a narrow street that heads underneath the viaduct.

09:54

A look back down Parry Street at the continuous stream of people:

Nine Elms

There are a couple of tunnels underneath the viaduct. The majority of people were taking the direct road route, I spotted a narrow entrance and went to take a look at what was intended to be the pedestrian route under the viaduct.

09:55

Nine Elms

I love railway viaducts. They are brilliant examples of Victorian construction, and whilst train passengers pass above, there is a different world of passages and arches underneath.

09:56

Reaching the other side of the viaduct and there are a number of businesses operating in the arches. Espirit Decor:

Nine Elms

09:56

And Sophie Hanna Flowers (a logical location given the flower market which I will soon find).

Nine Elms

09:57

Directly opposite is the Nine Elms construction site for the Northern Line extension from Kennington to Battersea,Nine Elms

09:57

The viaduct now takes on a different appearance with infrastructure to service the tracks above and parking / workshop space for the considerable number of vans that wait here ready for their early weekday morning activity.

Nine Elms

10:00

I had to wait for a gap in the stream of people walking along the road to take the following photo.

Nine Elms

The photo does not really convey the view. I am standing surrounded by vans, a stream of people, wrapped up against the January cold and carrying bags, pulling shopping trolleys and wheeled suitcases walk below the railway tracks. Around them tall apartment blocks grow, each with a design that appears completely uncoordinated with any other, as if each had been designed in isolation and dropped from above onto Nine Elms.

This being a Sunday, the railway is relatively quiet. In the week a stream of trains would be taking commuters from the suburbs of London, the villages of Surrey, Hampshire and beyond into the city.

On the other site of the railway, huge signs advertise luxury apartments and penthouses.

10:01

Turning round and there is a large car park full of vans – this is New Covent Garden Fruit and Veg Market.

Nine Elms

Just past the first market buildings was the reason for so many people walking along these streets on a Sunday morning as a large Sunday Market and Car Boot Sale operates here from eight in the morning to two in the afternoon.

10:03

Nine Elms

This is not a market for arts and crafts, this is market for the basics in life. I did not have time to explore the market apart from a quick walk along a couple of aisles where there are clothes, bags and cases of every description, tools, mobile phones and tablets.

It would have been good to take photos in the market, but the last thing the people who have come shopping here on a cold Sunday in January want is some bloke taking photos.

The market appears to be known as a source for second hand tools. On my walk back to Vauxhall, a man with an east European accent asked where the tool market was. He had just arrived in the country looking for work and needed to find some cheap tools to get started. How many times has that happened in London over the centuries.

The market is very busy, the photo below shows the number of people walking to and from the market.

10:07

Nine Elms

Continuing on, I walked through the man entrance to New Covent Garden Market.

10:10

Nine Elms

Covent Garden Market had outgrown its original location by the early 1960s. Lack of space for expansion and congestion on the surrounding roads required a new location to be found. The Nine Elms site was identified in 1961 and construction of New Covent Garden started in 1971. The Fruit & Veg and Flower Markets moved from Covent Garden to Nine Elms in November 1974 to sites to the south and north of the railway viaduct.

The southern market has been demolished and relocated (which I will find soon), but the main fruit and veg market continues in the original 1974 location and many of the buildings have recently been rebuilt and refurbished, with further construction ongoing.

The market has a dedicated road tunnel under the railway viaduct allowing access to and from Battersea Park Road, so this is the route I took. Passing under the railway and the cranes surrounding Battersea Power Station come into view, further emphasising the sheer scale of the construction projects between Vauxhall, Nine Elms and Battersea.

10:15

Nine Elms

It is along this road, just under the railway viaduct, that the new Flower Market has been located.

10:17

The entrance to the Flower Market:

Nine Elms

The Flower Market was opened in April 2017 having moved from a location further down towards Vauxhall. That original site has now been demolished and cleared ready for new construction.

10:20

The new – New Covent Garden Flower Market in Battersea Park Road:

Nine Elms

Completing a circular route, my plan was now to walk back along Battersea Park Road and Nine Elms Lane to where I started in Vauxhall. It is along here that some of the original apartment blocks from this recent phase of development can be found.

10:32

When redevelopment started, it was on the bank of the river, and over the last few years has continued back inland. Between Nine Elms Lane and the River Thames are five blocks of identical design/

Nine Elms

On the opposite side of Nine Elms Lane, large areas of land have been cleared. The roads are ready and utility services laid underneath the roads ready to service the buildings that will spring up on either side.

10:36

Nine Elms

10:38

Opposite is Cringle Street which leads to the large construction site surrounding Battersea Power Station:

Nine Elms

Further along Nine Elms Lane there are a number of completed buildings.

10:40

A very quiet January Sunday morning:

Nine Elms

Walking further along Nine Elms Lane and I found probably the most publicised building in the Nine Elms redevelopment.

10:48

This is the new United States Embassy:

Nine Elms

It is January, it is a grey day, it is a Sunday morning so there are not many people around, the building is surrounded by construction sites, however comparing the new location to the original location in Grosvenor Square – it is very different.

I am sure it will be a much improved environment when the rest of the redevelopment of Nine Elms is complete. The hoardings around the site between road and Embassy are for the residential blocks that will be built here – the Embassy Gardens development. Based on the photos of potential residents on the hoardings around the building site, I doubt I fall within their age demographic.

10:50

Further down Nine Elms Lane:

Nine Elms

10:55

Continuing along Nine Elms Lane and there is another large space cleared and ready for new construction. This was where the original flower market was located.

Nine Elms

And if I have calculated the location correctly, it was also somewhere here that the original London terminus of the Southern Railway was located.

This was the street entrance of the terminal building in 1942. The building suffered bomb damage during the war and was demolished in the 1960s ready for the construction of the New Covent Garden Flower Market in 1974.

Nine Elms

Image credit: London Metropolitan Archives, City of London: catalogue ref: SC_PHL_02_0629_F898

10:56

Mural by Wyvil Primary School – the mural informs that London is home to 914,000 children between the ages of four and eleven.

Nine Elms

I now reached the junction of Nine Elms Lane and Wandsworth Road.

10:57

From here I could look down Wandsworth Road again to see the houses that were the reason for spending Sunday morning in Nine Elms.

Nine Elms

It is a wonder that they have survived so long, given the closure of the railway station, workshops and good yards which were the catalyst for development of the area. The houses are probably of the same age as the original Nine Elms station.

The houses and the strange length of wall in the walkway alongside the viaduct are the only survivors from the 1895 map that I found, apart from the railway viaduct.

No idea what will happen to the houses. I hope they survive the latest phase of development and having seen the railway come and go, the Flower Market almost opposite built and demolished, they will now be surrounded by the towers that are springing up all around them.

11:10

At the junction of Nine Elms Lane, Wandsworth Road and Parry Street, the bright lights of Barbados shine on those still streaming from Vauxhall Station to the Sunday Market.

Nine Elms

And as one final comparison photo, the old Brunswick Club building with the residential blocks behind in the above photo and the Nine Elms Cold Store in the photo below.

Nine Elms

Image credit: London Metropolitan Archives, City of London: catalogue ref: SC_PHL_01_258_71_7183

Nine Elms is probably not high up on the list of walks in London, however I found it fascinating. The sheer scale of the redevelopment work, with the extension down to Battersea Power Station, is remarkable. Not just above the surface, but also below ground with the Northern Line extension. The Sunday Market also serves those who need somewhere to buy cheap goods and for those seeking to start a life in London.

Nine Elms has been through two development phases. Originally as the first Southern Railway terminus in London, then with the associated locomotive works and goods yard, then as the site for Covent Garden’s relocated fruit, veg and flower markets with other light industrial business. Now a third phase as Nine Elms transitions to a mainly residential area, however it is good to see that the market will stay here.

There is still much to explore in Nine Elms, and when I return I will check to see if the six houses have survived along with the strange wall alongside the viaduct.

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Marylebone Lane And Welbeck Street Car Park

London is so built up that it is hard to imagine that anything from the original rural environment remains. Major streets tend to follow much earlier alignments, and there is one street north of Oxford Street that still follows the same route from the time when the street ran through fields. This is Marylebone Lane.

In the following map extract, Oxford Street is the orange street running from the bottom left corner, across the map to the right. Just to the right of the middle of the stretch of Oxford Street shown below, there is a pair of streets, forming a triangle and branching northwards. This pair of streets then combine and continue northwards. The angled and curving shape of the street stands out from the grid pattern of the surrounding area.

Marylebone Lane

Map  © OpenStreetMap contributors. 

Back in 1746, when John Rocque was mapping London, this area was on the edge of the built city. In the map extract below, the top of the triangular section can just been seen at the bottom of the map. Marylebone Lane then runs northwards with the same outline as can be seen today. The first evidence of the grid layout of streets that will soon cover the whole area can be seen in the lower right corner. Fields cover much of the rest of the map with the formal Marybone Gardens at the top of the map.

Marylebone Lane

On an autumn afternoon, I went for a walk along Marylebone Lane, trying to imagine the fields, ponds and streams that once lined the lane, as well as discovering how Marylebone Lane acted as a boundary between the estates and developments that were springing up on either side of this old lane in the 18th century.

I also wanted to take some photos of Welbeck Street Car Park before what now looks like a certain demolition and replacement with a hotel building that will look similar to so many other hotels across London.

I turned off a very busy Oxford Street into the relative quiet of Marylebone Lane, passing the bulk of the Debenhams store, to the junction with Henrietta Place where I turned round to see the two branches of Marylebone Lane, with the triangular plat of land in the middle.

Marylebone Lane

This plot of land and the split of Marylebone Lane can be seen in detail in the following extract from Rocque’s map.

Marylebone Lane

Today, the road at the bottom is Oxford Street. In 1746, according to Rocque, the junction with Marylebone Lane appears to mark the junction where the name Oxford Street ends, and the name Tyburn Road takes over and continues up to Tyburn, roughly where Marble Arch is today. This change of names as streets cross Marylebone Lane will be a recurring theme.

Before the expansion of London built over these fields, Marylebone Lane ran from Tyburn Road, through the village of Marylebone to what were the northern parts of the parish, and ended within the current location of Regent’s Park.

In 1746 Marylebone Lane still ran the full length of this route, however building in the later half of the 18th century, including construction of Marylebone High Street, truncated Marylebone Lane to the southern portion of the route, so the section we can walk today is only part of the original full route.

The triangular plot of land, with the frontage onto Tyburn Road / Oxford Street has long been a significant location. Originally home to the parish church of Tyburn, then the first church of St. Marylebone, then being the location for a number of administrative functions for the parish, including a court and watch house. The book “London” by George H. Cunningham (1927) simply refers to this plot of land “Supposed to be the site of the ancient church of Tyburn, from a mass of skeletons that were dug up here in 1724”.

The watch house was photographed in 1920 and shows the same triangular layout with the two branches of Marylebone Lane leading down to Oxford Street.

Marylebone Lane

Image credit: London Metropolitan Archives, City of London: catalogue ref: SC_PHL_01_316_79_7322

The first junction we come to is that with Henrietta Place, or Henrietta Street as it was in 1746. The map at the top shows that a short distance along Henreitta Place, there is a junction with Wellbeck Street, today the street name only has a single L.

It is between Marylebone Lane and Welbeck Street that we can find the Welbeck Street Car Park.

Marylebone Lane

Proposals for post war planning of the city all generally accepted that there would be rapid growth in the numbers of cars that the city would have to accommodate. This led to some schemes that did get built, such as the Upper and Lower Thames Street through route, as well as many schemes that fortunately did not get built. I will write about some of these schemes in a future post. Actively accommodating the car continued through the closing decades of the 20th century and one result was the rather wonderful Welbeck Street Car Park.

The car park, designed by Michael Blampied and Partners for the adjacent Debenhams store was built between 1968 and 1970. It was a condition of approval for the Debenhams store that the car park was built as Westminister Council’s planning regulations required developments such as the store to have appropriate parking facilities.

Internally, it is a functional, multi-storey car park, but externally it has a remarkable design with prefabricated concrete diamonds covering all floors above the ground floor.

The car park is under threat of demolition after having been purchased by a developer with the intention of building a hotel on the site. Attempts have been made to get the building listed, or alternate uses which retain the exterior fabric of the building, but these appear to have been rejected and demolition awaits.

Marylebone Lane

The building is stunning from a distance, but get up close and the repetition of the triangular concrete shapes creates some fascinating patterns. I wonder if it is just coincidence that the triangular shape mirrors the shape for the land opposite the car park, where Marylebone Lane reaches Oxford Street?

Marylebone Lane

The car park from the junction of Henrietta Place and Welbeck Street.

Marylebone Lane

Leaving the Welbeck Street car park, and continuing along Marylebone Lane, we come to the junction with Wigmore Street.

In 1746 this street was named Wigmore Row and came to an abrupt halt at the junction with Marylebone Lane as the land to the west was still field, and had yet to be developed.

The following photo is in Marylebone Lane, looking across Wigmore Street. On the left can be seen the curving, continuation of Marylebone Lane. The slightly offset continuation of the street is the same as shown in the 1746 map.

Marylebone Lane

In 1746, the area directly opposite was field and just behind where the buildings now stand there appear to have been a couple of large ponds.

This is looking along Wigmore Street towards the west and shows the straight street approach of the grid layout in the area which helps Marylebone Lane stand out as being different, and older than the rest of the area.

Marylebone Lane

Although the 18th century onward developments follow a grid pattern, there are still many, small side street, alleys and mews. These provide access to the central core of the buildings within the square of the grid. The pub directly opposite Marylebone Lane is the Cock and Lion and the entrance to Easleys Mews takes up part of the ground floor space of the pub.

Marylebone Lane

In the 18th century, the area was very different. The following print from 1759 is titled “View of Marylebone from Wigmore Row”

Marylebone Lane

One of the City Conduits that stood near Marylebone Lane is shown in the print. In the large field north of Wigmore Row in the 1746 map there is a small black dot labelled conduit.

Crossing over Wigmore Street, we continue along Marylebone Lane and the curved nature of the street is apparent.Marylebone Lane

Marylebone Lane retains a number of one off shops, including the hardware store Penton’s which claims to be the oldest store on Marylebone Lane having been established in 1841.

Marylebone Lane

At number 35 is Paul Rothe & Son. If you look to the left of the shop there are several pages of information which tell the fascinating story of the shop.

Marylebone Lane

Paul Rothe was a German who worked his way to London in 1899 and opened a delicatessen on Marylebone Lane in 1900. The store has been in the same family ever since.

We now come to the junction with Bentinck Street, another of the wide streets that cut east – west across the old lane. The slightly curving Marylebone Lane can be seen directly across the street.

Marylebone Lane

On the corner of Bentinck Street and Marylebone Lane is the Coach Makers Arms.

Marylebone Lane

The current building dates from the early 1900s, however there has been a pub on the site since the 18th century. The pub has been through a couple of name changes (the O’Conor Don and the Conduit of Tybourne) but has returned to the original name for the pub.

Looking east along Bentinck Street, again showing the straight streets that make up the grid layout of this area of Marylebone.

Marylebone Lane

Bentick Street ends at the junction with Marylebone Lane and continues on as Hinde Street. These name changes in otherwise straight streets shows how Marylebone Lane acted as a boundary as estates developed in the area with separate estates to the east and west of the lane.

As we cross over Bentinck Street / Hinde Street, the Hinde Street Methodist Church can be seen to the left.

Marylebone Lane

The first Methodist Chapel was built on the site in 1810 and the current building dates from 1887.

Continuing along Marylebone Lane, the next junction is with Bulstrode Street and on the corner is another 19th century pub, the Golden Eagle, described on the corner sign as an “Imbibing Emporium”.

Marylebone Lane

Unlike the Coach Makers Arms, the Golden Eagle retains the feel of a local London pub. Lacking the expensive refurbishment and decor, the pub is the perfect stop for a “local” drink and has a wonderful atmosphere.

Marylebone Lane

The pub provides more evidence of how Marylebone Lane acted as a boundary as the area developed. Just below the Bulstrode Street sign, there is a painted sign on the brickwork stating that the name was “Late William Street”.

Marylebone Lane

Although today, Bulstrode Street is the name of the full length of the street that cuts across Marylebone Lane, originally, Bulstrode Street was the name of the street up to the Marylebone Lane junction. From then on, the street continued as William Street.

It is fascinating to see how this ancient lane provided a boundary as the estates developed from the mid 18th century onward and these boundaries can still be seen, reflected in the street names we see today.

Opposite the Golden Eagle is the haberdashery shop of V V Rouleaux. brilliantly decorated to reflect the colour of the goods for sale inside the shop.

Marylebone Lane

Crossing over Bulstrode Street takes us into the final section of what remains of Marylebone Lane. There is a new building on the north eastern corner of the junction which has an interesting stained glass art work that records another feature of the area.

Marylebone Lane

A plaque alongside the window provides these details:

“Light in the Darkness 2000 by Julian Stocks. This stained glass window celebrates the River Tyburn that flows beneath Marylebone Lane….it takes the form of a lantern which, when illuminated will act as a beacon. During the 18th century the River Tyburn was an open stream that ran from the hills of Hampstead Hearth down to the River Thames. Marylebone Lane follows the banks of the river, the course of which has since been culverted, but still maintains a presence most noticeable in it’s serpentine form.”

The Tyburn is possibly one of the reasons for the route of Marylebone Lane, if the lane did follow the bank of the river. Nicholas Barton in his book “The Lost Rivers of London” (1960), provides the following background:

“Marylebone Lane was originally on the left bank of the stream, and its winding line indicates the course of this part of the steam”. The book includes a photo from 1957 showing a muddy stream at the bottom of some sewer excavations in Marylebone Lane. Whilst it would be hard to prove that this was the Tyburn, it does show that there is running water beneath the ground.

Continuing on from the junction with Bulstrode Street, we now reach the point in Rocque’s 1746 map where Marylebone Lane makes a sharp left turn at the junction with another street that runs in from the east. The same turn to the left can be seen today.

Marylebone Lane

A road still joins from the east, although today this street (Bulstrode Place) is a short street terminated by buildings with no exit.

This is the view looking west at the turning point with the last short run of Marylebone Lane before it meets with Thayer Street, the street marked on the Rocque map as St. Mary Le Bone which ended here rather than continuing on down to Hinde Street, as Thayer Street does today.

Marylebone Lane

At this corner, Cross Keys Close, one of the many little mews and dead end streets that lead  from Marylebone Lane, can be found. Cross Keys Close was developed in the 1760s. These little side streets provide access to the centre of the blocks built within the grid pattern of streets.

The view from within Cross Keys Close, looking down Marylebone Lane.

Marylebone Lane

And at the end of Marylebone Lane is Thayer Street. This is the view looking back into Marylebone Lane. On the right is the pub, Angel in the Fields.

Marylebone Lane

This pub can be found on the 1746 map. Where Marylebone Lane turns left and meets the road marked as St. Mary Le Bone, at the junction there are a number of buildings. The lower right building within a small patch of land with trees edging the boundary, is the Angel pub. The pub was first recorded in 1720, and was rebuilt in 1770 as the area was being developed.

The “in the Fields” addition is from the refurbishment of the pub in 2001.

This is the view north from the junction with Thayer Street where it becomes Marylebone High Street. Another example of the straight streets that contrast with the narrow, winding nature of Marylebone Lane.

Marylebone Lane

John Rocque’s map provides a glimpse of this part of London, when fields, streams and ponds still cover the land. The future for the area can be seen in the lower right of Rocque’s map as the grid of streets and buildings continues London’s northward expansion.

Walking Marylebone Lane is to walk a street that existed long before the buildings that now dominate the view. The street also acted as a boundary between the estates and developments on either side. evidence of which can still be seen in the way that the names change of the long, wide streets as they cross this narrow lane.

Having walked the lane, rather than return to the crowds of Oxford Street, the best option was to continue an almost 300 year tradition, and stop for a drink in the Angel.

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A Return To Bermondsey Wall – Bevington Street, George Row And Bridge House

A couple of months ago, I featured a photo that my father had taken in Bermondsey. He had written the following notes to explain when and where the photo was taken “Flockton Street looking south from Bermondsey Wall. 19th century slum dwellings ravaged by the blitz – Summer 1948”. When I visited what remains of Flockton Street I was doubtful that this was the right location. Many features of the existing streets and in the photo did not line up.

I am really gratefull to a number of readers who identified the correct location as being Bevington Street in Bermondsey, and that a couple of the features in the original 1948 photo can still be seen to confirm. A quick look at Google Streetview clearly showed the location, however I was not content just to use Streetview as the purpose of this project is to revisit and photograph from the same viewpoints as in my father’s photos, so a couple of weeks ago I took another walk to Bermondsey to photograph Bevington Street – a location I have walked past a number of times, but for reasons I will explain later in the post, I was looking in the other direction.

My revisit also enabled the location of another photo to be confirmed, and I also found the location of a building photographed for the Wonderful London series of books published in 1926.

This is the view of Bevington Street from Bermondsey Wall photographed by my father in 1948:

Bermondsey Wall

And this is the same view today:

Bermondsey Wall

There are only two features that remain the same, but serve to confirm the location. The school on the left and the small brick building on the right which now appears to house an electrical substation – remarkable that in all the redevelopment of the area this small building has survived.

So where is Bevington Street? The following extract from the 1940 Bartholomew’s Atlas of Greater London shows the location. Bevington Street can be seen just to the right of the large Y. The school is further to the right, just across Farncombe Street.

Bermondsey Wall

Flockton Street, the wrongly identified location can be seen to the left, leading off from Bermondsey Wall, so these streets are very close. I suspect my father wrote up his notes for the photos after developing the negatives and looking at his route on the map, accidentally picked the wrong street.

I have used this 1940 map as it helps to explain a feature that can be seen today.

Bevington Street ends at Bermondsey Wall, and directly across from Bevington Street, between Bermondsey Wall and the River Thames is Fountain Green Square. The following photo is the view from the end of Bevington Street, looking across Bermondsey Wall to Fountain Green Square.

Bermondsey Wall

The name is very appropriate as there is a central green with a stone fountain in the centre. New housing is arranged around two sides of the green and the River Thames is alongside the far side of the green.

Looking back at the 1940 map and there is a feature here called Fountain Dock. The 1895 Ordnance Survey Map provides some additional detail and shows the shape and location of Fountain Dock.

Bermondsey Wall

Credit: ‘Reproduced with the permission of the National Library of Scotland’ 

The Southwark Council Conservation Area Appraisal (February 2013) confirms that the site of Fountain Green Square was the site of Fountain Dock, and that the dock was one of the few dry docks that operated along this part of the river.

Checking the overlay feature on the National Library of Scotland site, the dry docks appears over the easterly part of the green and partly under the houses on the eastern edge of the green, rather than occupying the full space of the green.

I checked the London Metropolitan Archives, Collage site and there are two photos from 1929 that show the dry dock. The first is looking from the north west corner of the dock, back towards where Bermondsey Wall runs right to left.

Bermondsey Wall

Image credit: London Metropolitan Archives, City of London: catalogue ref: SC_PHL_02_0912_A52734

The second photo, also from 1929, is looking from the south east corner of the dock, towards the river and the direction of the City.

Bermondsey Wall

Image credit: London Metropolitan Archives, City of London: catalogue ref: SC_PHL_02_0912_A5273

These photos from 1929 show Fountain Dock much as it must have been in the 19th century. Dry docks are important as they allow the hull of a ship to be inspected and worked on. The ship was moved into the dock, gates to the river closed and water pumped out from the dock, so somewhere alongside there must have been a building that housed the pump.

In an advert for the dry dock in Lloyd’s List on the 13th May 1893, the dimensions are given as a length of 161 feet and depth of 16 feet. The dock was owned by Mills & Knight who also owned the larger Nelson Dry Dock in Rotherhithe.

In addition to numerous adverts for the dry dock, 19th century newspapers included reports of accidents at the dock, as well as ships for sale. It appears to have been standard practice to offer a ship for sale when the ship is in dry dock for repair. The earliest example I could find was from the Shipping & Mercantile Gazette on the 27th August 1850, when the following ship was in Fountain Dry Dock and advertised for sale:

“The A1 Liverpool-built Barque BRAZILIAN, 345 tons, now lying in the Fountain Dry Dock, and ready for inspection; is in the course of re-coppering, &c., and, if not sold within a reasonable time, will be sent out again by her present owner. Length, 107 feet; breadth, 23 1-10 feet; depth 13 3-10 feet; carries a large cargo at an extraordinary light draught of water, and shifts without ballast”.

The following photo is the view taken from roughly the same viewpoint as the above photo. Today there is a fountain in the centre of the green.

Bermondsey Wall

The 1895 Ordnance Survey Map does not show a fountain, so I do not know if the fountain was moved here when the green was created to provide some relevance to the name. I doubt the fountain was here originally as it looks of rather fine construction to have been in such an industrial area – however I also do not know how Fountain Dock was named.

The origin of the name Bevington Street is interesting. When looking for this street on the 1895 OS map, whilst the street is there, in 1895 is was named Princes Road. It had changed to the current name sometime between 1895 and the 1940 map.

Although I have not been able to find any written confirmation of this, I suspect the name change may have been in the first decade of the 20th century. Bevington probably refers to Colonel Samuel Bourne Bevington. 

When Bermondsey Borough Council was formed in 1900, Samuel Bevington was the first mayor and he was reelected the following year. He came from the family that had established  Bevington and Sons, a company that manufactured leather products at Neckinger Mills in Abbey Street, Bermondsey. He was also a Colonel of the West Surrey Regiment, Justice of the Peace, on school boards and coming from a Quaker background, used family money to support a number of philanthropic activities.

Samuel Bourne Bevington died on the 14th April 1907 leaving a considerable estate to the value of £133,195. His will included money to provide income for four men and four women over the age of 60 who had been engaged in the leather trade.

Because of his role in the leather trade in Bermondsey, that he was the first mayor of Bermondsey Borough Council, and his other activities, I suspect that after his death, the council looked at ways to commemorate him, and one of the ways within their power was to rename one of the local streets, so Princes Road became Bevington Street.

There is much else of interest to be seen from the junction of Bevington Street and Bermondsey Wall.

A very short distance to the east along Bermondsey Wall is a rather unique, listed pub – the Old Justice.

Bermondsey Wall

The pub, as with so many London pubs, has closed, however the building is Grade II listed.

The reason for the listing is that the pub is a rather well preserved example of a style of pub design from the inter-war period. The majority of Victorian London pubs were small and focused on drinking. The design initiatives after the First World War, focused on improving the pub environment, the provision of space for other activities apart from basic drinking, for example with the provision of restaurant space and a function room.

The Old Justice was designed by Sidney C Clark in 1933 for the Hoare & Co brewery. It followed a mock Tudor design that was frequently used on many pubs of the period.

Hoare & Co were taken over by Charringtons and the pub has a pair of Charrington lanterns on the frount, these probably date from the 1960s.

Bermondsey Wall

Alongside one of the lanterns is a plaque recording that Sir Paul McCartney used interiors and exteriors of the Old Justice as locations in his film “Give My Regards To Broad Street” and in the music video to “No More Lonely Nights”.

As well as the pub, the film also has some fascinating shots of the front of the warehouses along the Thames in Bermondsey.

I looked in through the windows of the Old Justice and the interior looks to have been reasonably well gutted, although the wooden paneling remains on the walls and the fireplace is still intact.

The Old Justice is just to the east of the junction of Bevington Street and Bermondsey Wall. To the west is another building that is earlier than the majority of buildings in the area. This is Fountain House:

Bermondsey Wall

I am not sure when Fountain House was constructed, or whether the name is original. however it did feature in another of my father’s photos of Bermondsey. I have now been able to identify the following photo as having been taken in Loftie Street, which runs parallel to part of Bevington Street.

Bermondsey Wall

The rear of Fountain House is on the left of the photo, but what confirmed the location was the rear of the electrical substation building that was one of the surviving features in the photo of Bevington Street. The rear of this building can be seen in the above photo, to the right of Fountain House.

The houses are the rear of the houses that front onto Bevington Street. Washing is hanging to dry at the rear of one house, and I am fascinated by the height of the chimneys on these houses.

What must be the remains of a bomb site is to the front of the photo.

I tried to take a photo from a similar position today, but it was not easy with the buildings and fences that now occupy the area, however in the following photo, the rear of Fountain House can be seen, and just to the right, a small part of the top of the rear wall of the electrical substation building is just visible.

Bermondsey Wall

There was one additional place I wanted to track down. When I was looking for Flockton Street, I walked along George Row, which runs parallel to the original route of Flockton Street. The name George Row was familiar and I recently remembered where I had seen the name.

In 1926 a three volume set of photos and articles titled “Wonderful London” was published and the first main photo in volume 3 was titled “The Bridge House In George Row, Bermondsey”.

Bermondsey Wall

The caption with the above photo read:

“Bermondsey has had its royal palace dating perhaps from Edward the Confessor, and it was only in 1805 that the North Gate of its Abbey was taken down. The building in the photograph is called the Bridge House, since it stands where a bridge was built over one of the creeks that entered the river and made, with what is called St. Saviour’s Dock, Jacob’s Island. This was a densely populated quarter a hundred years ago, and its many canals and ditches had a Dutch air, according to the chroniclers”.

George Row today is a wide street that runs from Jamaica Road down to Bermondsey Wall. There are no buildings that look like the above photo and I was doubtful that I could find the location, however I turned to the 1895 Ordnance Survey map, and at the northern end of George Row, close to the junction with Bermondsey Wall, there is a building clearly labelled Bridge House. The map also shows the steps leading down from the building with what appear to be steps leading down from the building on the eastern side and sidesteps on the western side. This would confirm that the photo from Wonderful London was taken of the eastern face of the building.

Bermondsey Wall

Credit: ‘Reproduced with the permission of the National Library of Scotland’ 

It was easy now to find the location of Bridge House, the map overlay feature helped confirm exactly where to look. Bridge House was not directly on George Row. In the above map there is a space, which appears to be open space between the building and street, and this configuration remains today.

The following photo shows the location of Bridge House today, with a 4 storey block of flats – Providence Square – now standing in what appears to be almost the same footprint of Bridge House.

Bermondsey Wall

It would be interesting to know why the new building did not extend to George Row. Developers tend to maximise the amount they can build and make use of every available bit of space and the area between the building and George Row serves no apparent purpose.

I walked up to the edge of the building to take a photo from roughly the same position as the photo from Wonderful London.

Bermondsey Wall

The caption to the photograph in Wonderful London explains the source of the original name for the building: “The building in the photograph is called the Bridge House, since it stands where a bridge was built over one of the creeks that entered the river and made, with what is called St. Saviour’s Dock, Jacob’s Island”.

There are no signs of the creek today, however maps provide some indications.

In the 1895 Ordnance Survey map the word Neckinger can be seen running alongside George Row. This refers to the River Neckinger. I have read many different accounts of where the Neckinger entered the River Thames, most claim that St. Saviour’s Dock was the main estuary of the Neckinger into the Thames, however this was always low lying marsh land, and there have been many canals and ditches built in this area (I mentioned the 19th century walled drain in my post on Flockton Street, and the outline of this drain can still be seen running across the street).

The book “Bermondsey, Its Historic Memories And Associations” written by E.T. Clarke and published in 1902 provides a location for the creek and bridge. The book includes the following map of the area.

Bermondsey Wall

The so called Jacob’s Island is in the centre of the map, bounded by the Thames at the bottom of the map, St. Saviours Dock to the right, a canal running alongside London Street to the top, and on the left, a canal running along the full length of George Row.

Based on the locations of streets that can still be found today, I have circled in red the bridge that gave Bridge House its name.

This is pure speculation, but it may be that Bridge House is the rectangular building on the above map to the lower right of the red circle.

I do not know when this canal or extension of the Neckinger was filled in – it had disappeared by the time of the 1895 map, but it is interesting that the open space between George Row and the building that now occupies the location of Bridge House would have been where the canal ran.

Finding the location of Bridge House helps to understand how this area has developed over the centuries. Fountain Green Square provides a link to the dry dock that once occupied the site, and Bevington Street records the first mayor of Bermondsey and the leather industry of area.

Finding Bevington Street means I can tick off another of my father’s photos from 70 years ago. My thanks again to everyone who identified the correct location of the photo.

alondoninheritance.com

Rugby Street, French’s Dairy And Emerald Court

I have written about a couple of corner shops during the last few months, and for today’s post it is another shop, but this one in the middle of a terrace. This is French’s Dairy in Rugby Street.

Rugby Street

The above photo was taken in 1986 when the shop sold general dairy products as well as other daily essentials. The store closed in the 1990s and for the last few years has been the shop of designer Maggie Owen.

Rugby Street

The shop front looks much the same as it did 32 years ago, apart from the name change. The plaque recording the building as the location for part of the White Conduit is still on the shop front.

Rugby Street

I did ask in the shop if there is any visible evidence and I had much the same response as London Remembers – that the remains of the conduit are below the floor and cannot be seen.

As the plaque informs, the conduit provided water from what was the countryside around the city to the Greyfriars Monastery. The remains under the shop were apparently discovered in 1907 and consisted of a stone chamber and tank with an arched roof of chalk.

I find it fascinating looking back at the displays in these old shop windows. The pile of milk crates in front of the shop is a sight you would not see today. The shop windows always seem to consist of a random display of products, and in 1986 French’s Dairy had on display a rather large tin of Nescafe Instant Coffee, several boxes of Cheeselets, Mr Kipling Cakes, Fudge, Uncle Ben’s rice and Quick Macaroni.

Rugby Street

Rugby Street is north of Holborn, just north of Theobalds Road and was built as part of the early 18th century expansion of London. The southern side of the street consists of a lovely terrace of period houses, many, as with French’s Dairys, with later shop fronts.

A short distance along from the old French’s Dairy is another shop. This is the shop and workshop of Susannah Hunter, a designer and manufacturer of rather expensive leather handbags. Originally this building housed a pub and on the right is a rather narrow alley

Rugby Street

This is Emerald Court and is one of narrowest alleys, if not the narrowest in London. I had already prepared for visiting Rugby Street by bringing with me a tape measure (yes, I know – taking this a bit too seriously), and the width of the entrance onto Rugby Street is about 68 centimeters wide. Not sure if it is the narrowest in London but 68 cm is not that wide.

Rugby Street

Walk through the alley and this is the view back towards Rugby Street.

Rugby Street

Emerald Court opens out into Emerald Street, a street of mixed architectural styles, but generally later than the early 18th century buildings of Rugby Street. Emerald Street runs all the way down to Theobalds Road.

Rugby Street

I mentioned earlier in the post that Rugby Street was built as part of the early 18th century, northern expansion of London and a look at John Rocque’s map of London in 1746 shows this perfectly.

Rugby Street

I have ringed the location of Rugby Street and a very short distance to the north is the Foundling Hospital surrounded by fields. The road on the right heading north through the fields is Grays Inn Road.

As with so many London streets, these have undergone some name changes. In 1746 Rugby Street was named Chaple Street after St. John’s Chapel which had been built on the north east corner of the street. The map below provides a detailed view of the area.

Rugby Street

Chapel Street (Rugby Street) has the chapel on the corner, this was demolished in the later part of the 19th century. Chapel Street was renamed Rugby Street in the 1930s. Emerald Court is an original feature having been in existence in 1746. Emerald Street was originally named Grange Street so perhaps Emerald Court was Grange Court, however the name change from Grange to Emerald pre-dates the name change of Chapel Street as in the 1895 Ordnance Survey map the names Chapel and Emerald are in use.

There is also a newspaper reference to the two locations in the Islington Gazette on the 18th July 1900:

“ALLEGED TILL ROBBERY. Frederick Lane, a news-boy, was charged before Mr. Marsham, at Bow-street Police-court with theft. It was alleged that the prisoner stole a till bowl containing 7s from a general shop in Chapel-street, kept by Mrs. Eliza Green. A constable in plain clothes who saw what had happened gave chase, and apprehended the prisoner on the stairs of a house in Emerald-court. The prisoner was remanded.”

In the maps above, as well as the narrow alley running up from what was Grange Street to Chapel Street, there was also an alley running west from the end of Grange Street to what was Red Lyon Street (now Lambs Conduit Street – nearly all the street names in the area have changed over the last few centuries). This alley can still be found, as shown in the following photo a narrow alley leading from what was the end of Grange Street (now Emerald Street) to what was Red Lyon Street (now Lambs Conduit Street):

I have been building a spreadsheet of London street name changes for my own reference as there are so many, I will upload to the blog sometime.

The map extract below shows the area today with the street layout very similar to that of 1746. Emerald Court is the dotted red line leading up from Emerald Street.

Rugby Street

Map  © OpenStreetMap contributors. 

Although the name change from Chapel Street to Rugby Street is relatively recent, it does have significance to the history of the area.

Prior to the start of building in this part of London, much of the land was held by various estates. I have already written about the nearby Bedford Estate, and the land around Rugby Street and Emerald Court was part of a bequest by Lawrence Sheriff, a London grocer who was originally from the town of Rugby.

In 1567 Lawrence Sheriff’s bequest enabled the building of a school and almshouses in Rugby – the school now known as Rugby School. As well as Rugby Street, the bequest included the land now occupied by Lambs Conduit Street, Millman Street and part of Great Ormond Street.

The estate remained intact for centuries however the 1970s were a difficult time for the estate (as it was for so much 18th century housing in London) with many of the buildings falling into disrepair and low rents unable to fund the significant repair and reconstruction costs. A number of properties in Great Ormond Street and Millman Street were sold to Camden Council, however much of the estate remained with Rugby School, centered around Lambs Conduit Street.

The rental from the houses, shops and pubs on these streets is still going towards Rugby School as Lawrence Sheriff intended 450 years ago. His name is also on the Rugby grant maintained Lawrence Sheriff School which receives a percentage of the rental income.

This is the view looking down Rugby Street from Lambs Conduit Street:

Rugby Street

There is a plaque on the corner building on the right. The plaque records the bequest of the land which enabled the founding of Rugby School. It was unveiled on the 28th April 2017 to commemorate the 450 year anniversary of the founding of Rugby School, which would not have been possible without this area of land in London.

Rugby Street

The Rugby name appears in a number of other places. At the eastern end of Rugby Street is The Rugby Tavern which dates back to 1850.

Rugby Street

These estates would frequently have boundary markers to show which streets belonged within the estates so I had a walk round to see if I could find any. I will map all these in a future post, however here is one on the corner of this terrace in Millman Street.

Rugby Street

Close up of the boundary marker in the photo below. Although the estate is much older, the boundary marker is dated 1888 as markers would be frequently renewed during periodic boundary checks and as new houses were constructed.

Rugby Street

The photo of French’s Dairy (the reason for visiting Rugby Street) only dates from 1986. Thirty two years is trivial in the 450 years of the Rugby Estate, but to me it seems a lifetime ago. Back in 1986 I was driving a leaky Triumph Spitfire (leaking water in from the soft top, and oil from the engine). I was taking photos on film with digital photography in the distant future, and probably listening to The Damned, Level 42 and the B-52s on cassettes in the car.

I will re-visit the Rugby Estate, and also have a target to map out all the estates in this part of London so I will be walking these streets again.

alondoninheritance.com

Walcot Square And Lost Prefabs

The challenges facing the High Street have been much in the news over the last few years, with the failure of many shops and restaurant chains. This is the latest manifestation of a process that has been changing the way we shop for many years. It was not so long ago that the corner shop was the main source for day to day provisions. A corner shop could be found on the majority of London streets and the outline of many of these remain to this day, and for this blog post I went in search of one we photographed in 1986 to see what remained. This is the Walcot Stores in Walcot Square, Lambeth:

Walcot Square

The same view today:

Walcot Square

The Walcot Stores has long closed, but parts of the painted sign and the shop front remain. The conservation appraisal for the area records about the shop front that “Despite some surviving elements, unfortunately the door and much of the timber has been replaced and inappropriately stained.”

Looking into the original shop reveals a mix of goods. Tins of soup, boxes of fruit juice, packets of biscuits and in the left hand window, household cleaning products, toothpaste and soap.

Walcot Square is in Lambeth. Follow the Kennington Road, and just after the grounds of the Imperial War Museum are a couple of streets that lead into an early 19th century development centered on Walcot Square.

in the following map, Kennington Road is the vertical orange road in the centre. The Imperial War Museum is at the centre top, and just below this is the Walcot Estate centred around two triangular greens, just to the right of Kennington Road.

Walcot Square

Map  © OpenStreetMap contributors. 

The Walcot Estate is one of those places that can be found across London which have a very distinctive character and are different to their surroundings. I have written about similar estates before, such as the Lloyd Baker estate.

The land in this part of Lambeth was once owned by the Earls of Arundel, then the Dukes of Norfolk. In 1559, Thomas, Duke of Norfolk sold a parcel of land, and in 1657 this land was sold to Edmund Walcot.

There must have been a family connection to the area as Edmund’s uncle, Richard Walcot also owned some local land which Edmund inherited.

Edmund left the land in trust to St. Mary Lambeth and St. Olave, Southwark, for the benefit of the poor. At this time the majority of the land was undeveloped, apart from some limited building, it was mainly used for agricultural purposes.

The land left to St. Mary and St. Olave went through a number of partitions, enabling the two parishes to own their specific block of land, with the line of the present day Kennington Road roughly forming the border between the partitioned land.

Building commenced in the early years of the 19th century. Walcot Square was constructed between 1837 and 1839.

The name Walcot Square does not fit the area. Walcot recalls Edmund Walcot who left the land in trust to the parishes, however the area is not really a square.

The grassed section in the middle is more a triangle than a square, whilst the name also extends along the road that leads down to Kennington Road and up towards Brook Drive.

The Walcot Stores were at the eastern end of Walcot Square, towards Brook Drive. After photographing the old store front, I walked along Walcot Square towards the central grassed area.

In the following photo, the old shop is in the building on the left. In the front of the single storey building is a very old looking stone.

Walcot Square

A closer examination reveals a stone with a number of inscriptions. The date appears to be 1779.

Walcot Square

The stone pre-dates the construction of Walcot Square so was probably a boundary stone, possibly to show the land had been partitioned between the parishes of St. Mary and St. Olave.

I checked John Rocque’s 1746 map to see if I could find any obvious boundary (assuming that the boundary was in place 33 years before the date on the stone).

The following map extract shows the area in 1746.

Walcot Square

Some of the main roads that exist today could also be found in 1746. Part of Kennington Road along with Hercules Road, Lambeth Road and Lambeth Walk.

I have marked roughly where Kennington Road extends today and also the area occupied by the Walcot Estate, which in 1746 mainly consisted of fields.

There is a very hard boundary running diagonally down from Lambeth Road with cultivated agricultural land on the left and open fields on the right. This may have been the partition between St. Mary and St. Olave’s land, however the boundary does not look to be where the stone is to be found today – this is assuming that the stone is in the original location, Rocque’s map is correctly drawn and scaled, and that my interpretation of where the future extension to Kennington Road would run, and the future location of the Walcot Estate is correct.

Again, one of the problems with my blog where I worry I do not have enough time to research the detail – however I found it fascinating to find that a boundary stone that pre-dates the building of the entire estate can still be found.

Walking from the location of the shop, a short distance along Walcot Square brings us to the main area that could be considered a square. Here, the view is looking in the direction of Kennington Road with one of the corners of the triangle of grass, and the houses of Walcot Square on either side.

Walcot Square

The square and housing was built between 1837 and 1839. The Kenning Road extension had already been built, along with the large houses that faced onto Kennington Road, so Walcot Square was the typical expansion of building back from the main roads into the fields.

The square consists of two and three storey houses, along with a small basement. the ground floor is raised so a small set of steps leads up from the street to the front door.

Walcot Square

The north western corner of the square ends in a short stub of a street. The large gardens of the houses facing onto Kennington Road block the street. On the left is a rather attractive single storey building with a part basement below. The unusual design is probably because of the limited space behind, as this building could not intrude into the gardens of the house on the left.

Walcot Square

I wonder if it was the original intention to purchase the houses and land that block the extension on to Kennington Road and extend the above street and Walcot Square housing directly onto Kennington Road?

Leaving Walcot Square, walk along Bishop’s Terrace and you will find St. Mary’s Gardens (which must have been named after St. Mary, Lambeth, one of the parishes that had received the land in trust from Edmund Walcot). The layout is almost a mirror image of Walcot Square, with a triangular central garden.

Walcot Square

St. Mary’s Gardens was built at around the same time as Walcot Square so is of 1830s design and construction.

Compared to the continuous stream of traffic along Kennington Road, the streets of the Walcot Estate are quiet, and apart from the street parking, the general appearance of Walcot Square and St. Mary’s Gardens are much the same as when the estate was completed in the 1830s.

Walking back to Kennington Road, there is another of the typical 19th century standards for estate building. As with shops, pubs were also a common feature at the end of a terrace, or corner of a street, here at the junction of Bishop’s Terrace and Kennington Road:

Walcot Square

The pub was until very recently the Ship, but appears to have had a name change to The Walcot 1830 – a clear reference to the construction decade of the adjacent estate.

Lost Prefabs

Nothing to do with the Walcot Estate, but these must be in the local area.

The photo adjacent to the photo of the Walcot Stores on the strip of negatives from 1986 shows some prefab houses:

Walcot Square

Whilst the prefabs have almost certainly long gone, I was hoping that the distinctive building in the background could still be found, however after a lengthy walk through the streets of this part of Lambeth, I could not find the building in the background, so the street in which these prefabs were to be found in the 1980s remains a mystery.

It would be great to know if any reader recognises the location.

alondoninheritance.com

Tryon Street, Chelsea

If you walk from Sloane Square, along the King’s Road, pass the Saatchi Gallery on the left and a short distance further on the right will be Tryon Street, a very narrow Chelsea street leading from the King’s Road. No entry signs indicate that you cannot drive directly into the street as it is a one way street with traffic entering from Elystan Place to the north.

Walking from the King’s Road reveals a street that has hardly changed in 70 years. This is my father’s photo:

Tryon Street

And my 2018 photo taken on a very sunny September afternoon:

Tryon Street

I took the 2018 photo in Black & White as I suspect using colour artificially over emphasizes the changes in a scene, and in Tryon Street there has been very little change in 70 years.

The bollards have been changed, however a continuous line of bollards still runs the length of the street. There have been some cosmetic changes to the buildings, with a bit more structural change in the buildings nearest the camera. The road has been resurfaced, yellow lines have been added and the same metal chamber cover is in the same place in the middle of the road.

I am not sure why my father took the photo of Tryon Street. There is no obvious feature in the photo. i suspect the bollards had something to do with the decision to photograph the street as the line of bollards leading of to the end of the street enhances the composition of the photo.

I could not find that much information about Tryon Street. It is only a short street, the above photos show the full length of the street and it was only named Tryon Street in 1913, the street was originally part of the much longer Keppel Street, however the origin of the name is fascinating.

Tryon Street was named after Vice-Admiral Sir George Tryon who died when his ship sunk in the Mediterranean in 1893. The name of Tryon Street recalls a major naval tragedy.

Vice-Admiral Sir George Tryon was the Commander-in-Chief of the Mediterranean Fleet and leading the fleet in his ship Victoria. The fleet was to move from off the coast of Syria and make their way to new anchor positions off the Lebanon at Tripoli. The London Evening Standard on the 4th July 1893 details the circumstances of Tryon’s death and the sinking of the Victoria in a letter from “a Senior Office of the Fleet”:

“When ships are in columns of divisions, as we were, they ought to be twice the number of cables apart as there are ships in the longest line or column. We had six ships in the first division, and five in the second division- i.e. we ought to have really twelve cables apart (2400 yards); but we were only six cables (1200 yards). The diameter that the slowest ship is supposed to take in turning 16 points or right round is 800 yards. therefore two ships would occupy 1600 yards. We were coming up from Beyrout about six miles from the shore, and were in two divisions, but only six cables (1200 yards) apart.

The Admiral wanted to anchor the Fleet in line abreast, one division behind the other, to do which he had to re-form the fleet first, by turning the ships right round. He could have done two things, either turning each division outwards, or each inwards. He, for some reason, made the signal to turn inwards, namely, each ship in the division to turn in succession inwards on arriving where he turned. The two ships turned inwards, and the Camperdown closed watertight doors, seeing it impossible to avoid a collision. She struck the Victoria nearly at right angles, both ships going eight knots, just before the fore turret on the starboard side.

The Victoria had a fearful hole in her side, and as she heeled, her turrets and guns may have got loose and helped to turn her. She first seemed to have her bows under water, but made the signal ‘Negative sending boats’ and a semaphore, ‘Do not send boats but have them ready’. the next thing that I saw was that she began to heel over to starboard, and then more, until I could see her port screw going round out of water, it was a horrible sight. Next she seemed to make a plunge forward to starboard, and suddenly went right over, and we saw for a brief moment a most sickening sight, which I am sure, filled us all with awe – the enormous bottom upwards and both screws going round. I can see it now. In fact, one can never forget it. Then she sank and all was still. Of course, all boats in the Fleet were away as soon as we saw her with such a heel, and remained there until dark. However it was soon known that our Commander in Chief was gone. The poor engineers and the stokers in the engine-room and the stoke-hole ! Theirs must have been an awful death – too awful to think of. Thank God though that their end was not a slow one, for I think she blew up, as a few seconds after a huge volume of smoke arose to the surface.

One of the ship’s officers told me that there was hardly time to close the water-tight door, and when he tried to get below, he was stopped by the volume of water, so he began to get the boats out. But soon it was a case of ‘all hands for themselves’.  I believe the Admiral was last seen holding on to the rails of the chart-house forward, and would not leave the ship. poor fellow, I suppose at that last minute, he perhaps realised the mistake he had made and thought it best to show an example to duty by stopping at his post, although he told those around him to save themselves, for which I hope the country will forgive him. None of us can understand why the signal was made, although Markham hesitated in obeying it, and why the latter, fully knowing and realising the danger of the manoeuvre, ever carried it out.”

As well as Vice-Admiral Sir George Tryon, 22 officers and 336 men died in the sinking of the Victoria, although some reports put the number of casualties as high as 422. Of the casualties, 19 were were recorded as ‘boys’.

The wreck of the Victoria was considered to be in too deep water to attempt any recovery of bodies, and HMS Victoria still sits at the bottom of the Mediterranean near Tripoli, Lebanon.

The Illustrated London News carried a number of illustrations of the tragedy, including the following illustration showing the Victoria starting to turn over, with one of the screws already out of the water.Tryon Street

HMS Victoria before the tragedy:

Tryon Street

Image from: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:HMS_Victoria_(1887).jpg

I cannot find any association between Sir George Tryon and the street that now has his name, however he did have a London house at Eaton Place, not that far away, on the other side of Sloane Square, where his wife was in residence at the time of the disaster.

Portrait of Sir George Tryon from the many newspaper accounts of the disaster:

Tryon Street

Whilst Tryon Street may appear rather ordinary, the origin of the name is anything but.

Walking down Tryon Street, there are some interesting buildings. A short distance along on the right is this building. In the original photo, just the entrance on the left is visible.

Tryon Street

Further along, on one of the terrace houses on the left is a rather ornate plaque. Chelsea had a a long association with pottery so perhaps the plaque is from, or has some relevance to the Chelsea potteries.

Tryon Street

At the end of the street is a typical Victorian corner pub – the Queen’s Head.

Tryon Street

The pub closed on the 7th September 2016 and has been waiting for planning permission to be granted for changes. Originally a full conversion to residential was proposed, however the latest planning request is for residential on the first and second floors, and extension to the roof with conversion of the extension to the left of the pub also to residential.

The intention is that the pub will reopen on the ground floor and basement as a pub and restaurant.

The rather strange looking extension on the left of the pub is an early 20th century conversion, where the original house that was part of the 19th century terrace that runs along Tryon Street, was demolished and the pub extension built. It was used as a lounge bar to the pub.

I cut an extract from my father’s original photo to show the detail of the pub as it was.

Tryon Street

The pub sold Barclays Beers. There is what appears to be a pram parked outside the pub.

The Queen’s Head is a very distinctive feature on the corner of Tryon Street and Elystan Place. The building is higher than the terraces on either side helping the pub to stand out.

Tryon Street

Decorative feature of the Queen’s Head on the first floor of the pub facing onto Tryon Street.

Tryon Street

The Queen’s Head facade facing Elystan Place.

Tryon Street

In the short time I was in Tryon Place, it seemed very quiet, very different to the King’s Road at the end of the street. There was no through traffic and just the occasional walker using the street as a cut through to somewhere else.

A search through newspapers revealed the normal adverts of goods for sale, situations vacant, tragedy and strangeness that can be found in any London street over the years.

On the 2nd of August 1940, Mr William Hendra aged 70 dropped dead in Tryon Street whilst on his way to work. He had been a foreman painter for 46 years and left a widow, fours sons and three daughters.

In October 1952, a man was arrested at 4:40 am “because he insisted on standing in the middle of Tryon Street, Chelsea and playing a trumpet. David Patrick (aged 22 and described as of no occupation), of Sheffield Terrace, Kensington, was at West London, fined £1 on a charge of insulting behavior. He was ordered to forfeit 10s of his bail because he arrived late.”

In February 1940, the secretary of the Ye Old Bell Loan Club and the Queen’s Head Loan Club, both of the Queen’s Head pub, Tryon Street was sent to prison for a month after the loss of £70. In what must have been a very common situation, the secretary was out of work and having to support five children on 39s a week unemployment benefit. The magistrate appears to have been sympathetic as he said “I am exceedingly sorry to see you in the position you are now. It is impossible to pass over an offence of this sort. I don’t say you started taking money intending not to repay, but it is gross carelessness on your part to take £70 without knowing what had become of it. Unless you had a good character I would certainly have given you a long sentence. As it is, go to prison for a month and think yourself exceedingly fortunate”.

Looking back down Tryon Street towards King’s Road:

Tryon Street

It is always interesting to look at the pavement when walking London’s streets, as well as the buildings. There are plenty of covers to coal holes along the pavement. This one is marked as Green & London – Chelsea, London, SW.

Tryon Street

The cover was purchased locally as Green and London were an ironmongers located at 121 King’s Road.

Tryon Street has changed very little over the last 70 years. A short street that most people appear to use as a cut through to and from the King’s Road, however it is a street with a name that recalls a naval tragedy of the late 19th century.

It will be good to see the Queen’s Head restored and reopened as a pub. There are too many lost pubs in London so retaining this fine Victorian example will be one small victory.

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Lower Marsh Market And L & N Cohen

For this week’s post, I am in Lower Marsh, just to the south of Waterloo Station, however before getting into the post, can I say a big thanks for all the comments to last week’s post. Within a few hours on Sunday morning, your comments provided:

  • The source of the name Flockton – Webster Flockton, who had a tar works in Spa Road, Bermondsey
  • It appears there was nothing sinister with Violet Rose Dicker’s disappearance, she probably ran away with her future husband
  • The correct location of the photograph – Bevington Street

It is really good to have another of my father’s photos correctly identified, I will never know why he labelled it as Flockton Street, I will check the photos again to see if there is one of Flockton Street as perhaps the wrong photo was labelled. I will also take a walk to Bevington Street to take a photo in the right location.

There is no such mystery with today’s location. I worked around Waterloo for 10 years between 1979 and 1989, and one of the lunchtime walking routes was along Lower Marsh, a street lined with shops and a busy market occupying the length of the street.

This is the shop of L&N Cohen at 27 Lower Marsh on the corner of Frazier Street photographed in 1986:

Lower Marsh

This is the same building today:

Lower Marsh

The two photos provide a summary of the changes in the area, as can also be seen across so much of London. The building is no longer the “House for Value” and is now an independent local supermarket selling artisan bread.

I assume the same Cohen family had been running a clothes shop in Lower Marsh for many years. I found the following photo of the same shop in the LMA Collage archive. The photo is dated 1950.

Lower Marsh

Image credit: London Metropolitan Archives, City of London: catalogue ref: SC_PHL_02_0942_80_3901

The initials changed between the 1950 and 1986 photos, so I assume ownership of the shop moved to later generations of the Cohen family. It is interesting that the same structures can be seen across the front of the first floor of the building, running across the windows. I could not work out what these were for, whether a very large awning, fixing for signage that was once in place, or strengthening of the building wall. What ever it was, it has long gone and the building today has been considerably renovated and extended along Frazier Street.

Lower Marsh runs in the shadow of Waterloo Station. The name hints at what the land in the area was like before the developments between the street and the river. When I worked in the area the street was always known as the Cut rather than Lower Marsh. However the street today named The Cut runs to the east of Waterloo Road.

The following map extract shows the location of the building (the red dot, just to the lower left of centre), Lower Marsh runs from lower left to upper right. Waterloo Station dominates the area to the north. Waterloo Road is the orange road on the right, with The Cut leading off Waterloo Road to the top right corner.

Lower Marsh

Map  © OpenStreetMap contributors. 

When I work in the area, the Lower Marsh market was always busy with the street lined with stalls selling all manner of typical market goods, however today, the street appears much quieter with nearly all the stalls selling food. I have not walked along here for a few years, so not sure if this was a typical day, however it is a very different market to that of the 1980s.

Lower Marsh

The Lower Marsh market has a long history, but trading was not always peaceful. An article in the Illustrated London News on the 27th January 1872 shows some of the problems with attempts at Sunday trading:

“SUNDAY TRADING IN THE NEW-CUT: The Lower Marsh, Lambeth, which is popularly called ‘the New-cut’, has long been the regular weekly haunt of a numerous assembly of costermongers, dealers in fish, rabbits, and pork, sellers of cheap hosiery, pottery, hardware, trinkets and toys, who have been permitted to set up their little stalls, or to place their barrows and baskets at the sides of the wide street. This trade has gone on every Sunday at eight o’clock in the morning to one in the afternoon, while most of the neighbouring shopkeepers were obliged in self-defence, to have their business open at the same time.

Two or three weeks ago, the vestry board of St. Mary’s, Lambeth, passed a resolution to the effect that printed notices should be posted through the parish, cautioning all persons in the habit of exposing goods for sale that such a practice would not in future be allowed on Sunday mornings, and that any person so found offending would be summoned before the magistrate on the charge of creating an obstruction, the penalty on conviction being 40s. It was also resolved that the inspectors of nuisances for the parish should be employed to see that the terms of the notice were strictly enforced. The police authorities had declined to interfere, unless the order were to be applied to shopkeepers as well as to costermongers; but a double force of constables was placed on duty to prevent any breach of the peace.

On Sunday week, the trade began at the usual hour, but at nine o’clock, six of the Lambeth nuisance inspectors, in uniform, appeared upon the scene, and, accompanied by police-constables and followed by a large body of roughs, yelling and hooting, visited the stall-keepers in succession, ordering each to remove the stall, barrow or basket at once. If they merely removed to other places, they were followed by an inspector, who took down the name and address of the offending dealer, informing him he would be summoned.

As a rule, the officers, while performing their disagreeable duty, were treated with civility; but were very generally told that, if prevented selling their goods as usual, the costermongers would be compelled to throw themselves upon the parish, as they mainly depended for their scanty living upon the profits of the Sunday morning sales, when they did more business than on all the other days of the week.”

The articles goes on to state that the issue was discussed further in a number of vestry meetings, with a considerable number of shop-keepers, rate payers, shop assistants and costermongers urging the vestry that regulation rather than prohibition was required.

The vestry agreed on a compromise that allowed the market to go ahead on a Sunday morning, providing the stalls were removed by half-past ten o’clock, before church time.

The article finishes with a sentence that illustrates the working conditions that constrained the lives of so many of the working class:

“It is said that many of the working-class families in Lambeth cannot get their needful purchases for Sunday on Saturday night, because they work late on Saturday and do not receive their wages till the evening.”

Lower Marsh today, looking west with the old Cohen shop immediately on the left:Lower Marsh

Another view along Lower Marsh:

Lower Marsh

There are still many interesting 19th century buildings along Lower Marsh. On the front of one building at 127 Lower Marsh, there are two large urns on the either side of the first floor windows.

Lower Marsh

Apparently these are Tuscan oil jars and were often found on the facades of former oil shops. The ground floor of the building today is occupied by a Thai Restaurant, however in 1972 it was occupied by “Taps & Tiles”:

Lower Marsh

Image credit: London Metropolitan Archives, City of London: catalogue ref: SC_PHL_01_251_72_1090A

The Eastwood’s sign on the side of the building in 1972 has disappeared. I have not been able to find out if this was the name of a possible oil shop, or some other business on the premises.

Lower Marsh from Westminster Bridge Road end:

Lower Marsh

The London metropolitan Archives, Collage collection has a number of photos of the Lower Marsh market over the years, the following are a sample.

The first is one of the earliest I could find and is dated 1896, only 24 years after the Sunday trading issues detailed earlier in the post.

Lower Marsh

Image credit: London Metropolitan Archives, City of London: catalogue ref: SC_PHL_01_251_77_1062

This is from a time when the majority of shops had awnings and frequently large advertising boards across the facade, as can be seen with the Danish Dairy Company in the above photo. I wonder if the remains of these fixtures could still be seen across the front of Cohen’s shop in 1986.

The following photo is from 1950. The text that goes with this photo states that “the market stretched from Blackfriars to Vauxhall”.

Lower Marsh

Image credit: London Metropolitan Archives, City of London: catalogue ref: SC_PHL_02_0942_90_3903

I have not been able to find any evidence that the market stretched all the way from Blackfriars to Vauxhall – this would have been a considerable distance. It may have been that, as described in the 1872 Illustrated London News article, costermongers and traders could have sold from baskets and stalls anywhere along the roads south of the river from Blackfriars to Vauxhall, rather than a single, organised market. Street trading was much more haphazard before the 20th century.

This photo is again from 1950, and is at the eastern end of Lambeth Marsh, close to the junction with Waterloo Bridge Road.

Lower Marsh

Image credit: London Metropolitan Archives, City of London: catalogue ref: SC_PHL_02_0942_90_3903

This final photo from the Collage archive is also towards the Waterloo Bridge Road end of Lambeth Marsh. The photo is from 1950 and shows Waterloo Station in the background.

Lower Marsh

Image credit: London Metropolitan Archives, City of London: catalogue ref: SC_PHL_01_251_80_3912

I hope the early Friday afternoon that I walked down Lambeth Marsh was not a normal market day, it was very quiet and with considerably less variety than the market of the 1980s, however demographics change and I suspect the market today reflects local demand as it is, rather than as it was.

These changes between 1986 and 2018 can be clearly seen in the changes to 27 Lower Marsh.

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Flockton Street – A Bermondsey Mystery

The location for this week’s post is a bit of a mystery. The notes my father wrote for the following photo were “Flockton Street looking south from Bermondsey Wall. 19th century slum dwellings ravaged by the blitz – Summer 1948”.

Flockton Street

I will explain why this photo is a bit of a mystery as I go through the post, but firstly, where was / is Flockton Street?

The location is on the south of the River Thames, east of Tower Bridge. The street ran south from Bermondsey Wall, a short distance to the east of St. Saviour’s Dock. The following extract from the 1895 Ordnance Survey map shows the location. I have rotated the map so north, and the River Thames is at the bottom of the map and south at the top of the map. This rotation is to align the map with my father’s photo.

Flockton Street

So far, all looks good. I have marked the position from where I assume the photo was taken, and Flockton Street is the street running upwards from the red circle. My father’s photo is looking along a street with housing either side (although not as much housing in the map close to the camera as there is in the photo). The space on the right of the photo could be the location of the slate works shown on the 1895 map.

In my father’s photo there is a taller building on the left, behind the terrace houses. In the 1895 map, roughly where this building would have been located there is a school, and the limited view of the building in the photo does look like a typical Victorian London school.

But when I went to find the site, I started to have doubts.

As would be expected, the area is very different today. Flockton Street was a long street in the 1895 map, but today, only a couple of short stretches remain, one of which did not exist in 1895,

The following map shows the area today (with north and the River Thames at the top of the map). (Map  “© OpenStreetMap contributors”)

Flockton Street

I have circled one stretch of Flockton Street at the top of the map. This stretch meets Bermondsey Wall at the top of the map, and presumably the point from where my father took the photo.

At the other end of this short stretch is Chambers Street, a street that did not exist in 1895.

I have circled the next identifiable stretch of Flockton Street in the middle of the map. This is a short length from George Row that also did not exist in 1895.

Flockton Street in its original alignment has all but disappeared, although there is what appears to be an unnamed street running from Chambers Street roughly where Flockton Street would have been, although today this is more a walkway in between the flats that now cover the area, rather than a street.

Whilst walking around the site of Flockton Street, there were two main issues with confirming it was the location of my father’s 1948 photo. The first is the short stub of Flockton Street where it joins Bermondsey Wall.

Bermondsey Wall is an old street, that as its name implies was at one time aligned or part of the wall / embankment along the edge of the river. I am not sure when the name Bermondsey was used for the street, in Rocque’s map of 1746 it is called Redriff Wall for the section just east of St. Saviours Dock, then Rotherhithe or Redriff Wall for the rest of the street (Redriff was one of the earlier names for Rotherhithe, hence the alternatives shown on Rocque’s map).

Flockton Street is also not the original name. The London Evening Standard on the 8th August 1878 reported that “Salisbury Lane, Neckinger Road, Bermondsey will be renamed Flockton Street and also renumbered”. There is no additional information to explain why the renaming was needed, or why the name Flockton was chosen. The only person named Flockton that appears in 19th century newspapers is a Thomas Flockton of Leadenhall Street who was a shipping and insurance broker.

Today, Bermondsey Wall has been divided into two sections (with the addition of east and west to the street name) by the works for the Thames Tideway Tunnel.

In the following photo I am standing in Chambers Street looking down Flockton Street towards Bermondsey Wall.

Flockton Street

And in the following photo I am at the Bermondsey Wall end of Flockton Street looking in the direction of my father’s photo.

Flockton Street

There is a significant difference between my father’s photo and the above view. The street is very narrow (as confirmed in the 1895 map) and there is a significant dip in the street unlike my father’s photo which shows a much broader, flat street.

The dip in the street is significant as this hints at the undisturbed nature of this section of Flockton Street.

One of the documents that the Thames Tideway Tunnel had to complete as part of the application for development consent was a Heritage Statement. This document provides an interesting read to get a better idea of the history of the area. For Flockton Street there is the following text:

Flockton Street

The dip in this section of Flockton Street is therefore the evidence for a deep 19th century drainage channel. It does not appear in my father’s photo.

My next thought was whether the 1948 photo was taken from Chambers Street looking along Flockton Street, rather than from Bermondsey Wall. I checked the 1940 edition of Batholomew’s Atlas of Greater London and Chambers Street was not there in 1940. The following extract shows Flockton Street (just to the right of centre of the map) running up to Bermondsey Wall.

Flockton Street

The 1940 map does show the school in the same possible as in 1895 and in the right position as regards the 1948 photo. I doubt that Chambers Street would have been built between 1940 and 1948.

Walking to the other side of Chambers Street, opposite the entrance to the small stretch of Flockton Street is this view.

Flockton Street

This is looking along where Flockton Street was on the 1895 Ordnance Survey map. In this lower part of Flockton Street, there is an open area on the left and the new school buildings that have replaced the Victorian building.

On the right is a block of flats, the first of the flats that cover the land up to where Flockton Street originally met George Row to the south.

It is the design of these flats that also gave me a problem with confirming that this was the location of my father’s photo. Another view of the flats is shown in the photo below, standing in the open space that would once have been Flockton Street.

Flockton Street

My problem with these buildings is that they do not look like post war design, and indeed they are not. I could not find the exact date of construction, however there are newspaper reports which mention some of these blocks in the 1930s. One of these reports, from the Daily Herald on the 9th November 1938 concerns Weller House, one of the blocks of flats between George Row and the original southern end of Flockton Street. The report itself hints at what appears to have been some rather tragic events in the area:

“Police Seek Clue From Blonde – South London police are seeking a young, fair haired girl, who, they think, may be able to help them trace 16 year-old Violet Rose Dicker missing from Weller House, George-row, Bermondsey. Violet is the fifth girl to disappear from Weller House, a block of flats, in six weeks. 

Rosie seemed quite happy until she went to a dance a fortnight ago, her mother said last night. She said she had stayed away two nights, and said she had been with a girl friend.”

I can find no further reports of what happened to Violet Rose Dicker or the other four girls who disappeared from Weller House so no idea whether this was normal teenage rebellion, or something more sinister.

This is the view of Weller House from Scott Lidgett Crescent (part of what was East lane in the 1895 map). The southern end of Flockton Street would have been through the middle of the flats, roughly where the building moves from light to shade.

Flockton Street

So I am still not sure whether Flockton Street is the location of my father’s photo. The notes were generally written after he had taken the original photo, often after he had developed the negatives and printed some of the photos. As I have worked through his photos, it is very rare for the written notes to be wrong, however I suspect with this photo the location may well be wrong.

The school is in the right position, but if the view of Flockton Street is from Bermondsey Wall, the narrow section with the dip is not visible and I doubt Chambers Street was in existence in 1948 – it was not on the 1940 map.

Also the blocks of flats between George Row and Flockton Street appear to be of pre-war construction, certainly those to the southern end of what was Flockton Street are pre-war.

The photo is in Bermondsey, photos on the same negative strip either side of this photo are in Bermondsey. Perhaps some time spent in local archives may reveal the location, but at the moment, this is still a mystery location.

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Laystall Street, Giuseppe Mazzini And The School Board For London

Laystall Street is a turning off Clerkenwell Road, slightly to the west of Leather Lane. A short distance along Laystall Street there is an unusual plaque on the first floor of one of the terrace houses.

In 1986, the ground floor was occupied by a hairdresser:

Laystall Street

In 2018, the ground floor is now a model agency, but the same plaque can be seen on the first floor:

Laystall Street

The large and rather ornate plaque is to Giuseppe Mazzini:

Laystall Street

Giuseppe Mazzini was born in Genoa, Italy in 1805 at a time when Italy consisted of several independent republics and city states, rather than as a unified country.

He qualified as a lawyer, but his main interest was republicanism and the unification of Italy into a single nation state.

He was involved with, and organised a number riots and attempted insurrections to try and bring about unification. He also formed a secret political organisation called Young Italy (as mentioned in the plaque) dedicated to the unification of the country.

His activities resulted in periods of imprisonment, exile from Italy and, in his absense, a sentance of death.

In the 1840s, 1850s and 1860s, periods in exile included London from where he continued to work in the cause of unification. The plaque in Laystall Street might be interpreted as indicating that he lived in the house whilst in London, however there is a Blue Plaque on the house at 155 North Gower Street which was his London residence, and he also spent some time close by in Hatton Garden.

The Laystall Street plaque is a record of “La Società per il Progresso degli Operai Italiani in Londra” (the Society for the Progress of Italian Workers in London).

Laystall Street and surrounding streets were once a centre for Italian immigrants and the area had a large Italian population.  The Society for the Progress of Italian Workers in London was founded in May 1864 under the joint presidency of Mazzini and Guiseppe Garibaldi (who also shared the same views on republicanism and the unification of Italy)

The aim of the society was to engage the Italian population of London in the unification cause. The club originally met in Mazzini’s house in Hatton Garden, before moving to Farringdon Road, before occupying 10 Laystall Street where the club would stay until 1930 when the society moved to Red Lion Street.

The plaque in Laystall Street is dated 1922, when the society had already been based in the building for many years. I cannot find any information as to why it is only to Mazzini, one of the founders of the society and does not mention Garibaldi.

The Red Lion Street premises were seized during the 2nd World War, but returned to the society after the war, who then changed their name to the Mazzini-Garibaldi Club.

Given the siezure of the premises of the society and the internment of many Italians as enemy aliens during the last war, it would be interesting to know if the Laystall Street plaque survived on the building during the war, or whether it was removed and reinstalled after the end of the war.

Giuseppe Mazzini photographed during one of his visits to London:

Laystall Street

Giuseppe Mazzini was involved in a notorious act of letter opening by the British Government. In 1843 Mazzini’s cause attracted the support of two officers in the Austrian Navy, who landed in the Kingdom of Naples to support some riots that Mazzini was organising. The two were immediately captured and executed. The Illustrated London News on the 12th May 1849 in an article about Mazzini reported that:

“He is well known to the English public, through the notoriety acquired by Sir James Graham in opening his letters in the English Post-office, and communicating their contents to the Austrian Government, which led to the death of the noble-hearted brothers, Bandiera,”

In describing them as “noble hearted”, the Illustrated London News appears to have had some sympathy for their cause.

The view along Laystall Street from Clerkenwell Road:

Laystall Street

The source of the name Laystall Street is interesting. The word Laystall can refer to a place where rubbish or dung is deposited. It can also refer to a place where cattle are kept. This would imply an old source of the name, so I checked John Roque’s 1746 map of London.

The area around Laystall Street has changed singnificantly since 1746. Clerkenwell Road was not there, and the majority of streets have since changed their names.

Laystall Street is just to the west of Leather Lane, it has a slight turn into Clerkenwell Road, and then runs back at an angle of about 45 degrees to Clerkenwell Road.

In 1746, in the right place, with the right alignment was a street named Leicester Street (see the map extract below). Leather Lane is running from the middle of the map to the lower edge. Leicester Street is to the left of the map, running to the left edge from the junction of Leather Lane, Ayre Street and Windmill Hill).

Laystall Street

The words Laystall and Leicester sound similar, so perhaps Laystall was just a corruption of the street name in 1746, however the Encyclopedia of London attributes the name to the traditional meaning of a rubbish dump which was probably towards the Mount Pleasant end of the street as this was originally a lane that ran down to the River Fleet and the area was known as a rubbish dumping ground. Perhaps Roque has just recorded the incorrect name?

Laystall Street was cut in half in the early 1890s when Rosebery Avenue was built, and the area north of Laystall Street underwent considerable development with the demolition of the old Coldbath Fields prison and the construction of the Mount Pleasant Post Office.

The extract below from the 1895 Ordnance Survey map shows Rosebery Avenue newly completed, cutting through Laystall Street:

Laystall Street

I walked further down Laystall Street. On one of the buildings there is the rather nice sign of the Newgate Press preserved:

Laystall Street

The view looking up Laystall Street from the junction with Rosebery Avenue:

Laystall Street

In the 1895 Ordnance Survey Map, there is a large school occupying the northern side of Laystall Street after it crosses Rosebery Avenue. The school buildings are still to be found:

Laystall Street

The school retains a very nice London County Council coat of arms with the name of the school below:

Laystall Street

The school also includes the following sign for the School Board for London:

Laystall Street

The above two photos show two of the key organisations responsible for the expansion of a structured education system across London.

The School Board for London was created by the 1870 Elementary Education Act to provide elementary school places for all poor children. It became the largest provider of school places across London.

The School Board for London was in operation between 1870 and 1903, when the London County Council took over responsibility for education across London.

Another sign on the school building gives 1876 as the date of the school, six years after the Elementary Education Act, but also names the school as the Laystall Street School:

Laystall Street

The Illustrated London News on the 5th August 1876 provides a glimpse into the challenges of providing schools in central London:

“A board-school was opened, on Monday night, in Laystall-street, Gray’s Inn Road, by Sir Charles Reed. in the ‘block’ where the school is situated Sir Charles stated that places were required for 2075 children. The difficulty of getting a site in the metropolis was very great, and it was sometimes costly; but, cost what it might, the board must have a school placed in the particular locality in which it was required. He thought if his colleagues were to be blamed for anything it should be because of their tardiness in providing school accommodation in that district, which would have the additional provision given to it without injury to the other schools there. He saw a letter in a newspaper the other day in which the writer, speaking of the school board, said ‘Their present school in Laystall-street, which will open unblessed by us on Monday next, is within sixty yards of a church school.’ He (Sir Charles) believed the parents of that district would bless that school, and that would be quite enough. Sir Edward Currie also spoke, and stated that the site of the new school was the smallest and the most costly that the board had purchased in London. The school was intended to accommodate 502 children, at a cost of about £10 per head.” 

The original name was Laystall School, as Rosebery Avenue did not exist. It was built 14 years after the school was constructed.

The two signs also probably tell us how and when the name changed. The school was built in 1876 as the Laystall Street School by the School Board for London. In 1903 the London County Council takes over the school and it is probably then that the name also changes after the construction of Rosebery Avenue – a much larger street than Laystall Street (sorry, but I love these little connected details you can find across London’s streets).

The school today is the Christopher Hatton Primary School, named after the Elizabethan politician who also gave his name to Hatton Garden.

Laystall Street

I always feel I never do justice to the history of the areas I cover in my posts, however it is fascinating what you can find in London’s streets and in Laystall Street there is an Italian nationalist, possible long lost rubbish dump that gave the name to the street, and a glimpse into the development of schools at the end of the 19th century – not bad for a short walk.

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A Bombsite On Baldwin’s Gardens

Baldwin’s Gardens is a street that runs between Leather Lane and Gray’s Inn Road. If you take a walk along the street, you may be disappointed that the street does not live up to its name. Rather than finding any gardens, the walker will find flats, a church, school and other buildings lining Baldwin’s Gardens.

My father took the following photo of Baldwin’s Gardens in 1949. The view is looking down towards Gray’s Inn Road. In the early years of the war, the area suffered from the impact of several high explosive bombs and the effects of these can be seen to the right of the street.

Baldwin's Gardens

The same view today:

Baldwin's Gardens

The only identifiable feature in the above two photos is the building in Gray’s Inn Road visible at the far end of Baldwin’s Gardens (although it is slightly obscured by trees in the 2018 photo). This building is part of Gray’s Inn, and one of the entrances to Gray’s Inn Square.

I took the photo below at the end of Baldwin’s Gardens to show the building today with the central block and entrance to the gardens behind being the feature visible in my father’s photo.

Baldwin's Gardens

Detail from the 1949 photo shows the Gray’s Inn building:

Baldwin's Gardens

My father took a second photo looking slightly to the right of the first photo to show more of the bomb damaged area.

Baldwin's Gardens

Difficult to be precise regarding the exact location due to the level of change, however looking over to the right of Baldwin’s Gardens today, and the 1949 bomb site is now occupied by a Primary School.

Baldwin's Gardens

A clue as to what occupied the bomb site can be found in the extract from the 1895 Ordnance Survey map shown below from the National Library of Scotland. Baldwin’s Gardens run across the centre of the map. The upper left part of Baldwin’s Gardens is the bombed area in my father’s photo.

Baldwin's Gardens

Just above the letter B in Baldwin’s Garden, there is an Infant School. This is in the same location as the Primary School today. Below the word Baldwin’s is St. Alban’s Church and to the upper right of the church is a school for boys and girls.

The church of St. Alban is still alongside Baldwin’s Gardens as shown in the photo below. A large brick church, completed in the early 1860s.

Baldwin's Gardens

The Holborn Journal reported on the 28th June 1862 that the church was almost complete, apart from some internal decoration. The Holborn Journal appears to have appreciated the church as the article concludes with “Mr. Myers was the builder, and he appears to have done his work well.”

The second school on the map, marked for boys and girls has been lost although a plaque from the school can be found in the small yard between the church and Baldwin’s Gardens:

Baldwin's Gardens

Remarkably, I found a photo of this plaque when it was on the original school. The following photo is from the London Metropolitan Archive Collage site. It is titled “St Alban’s School, Baldwin Gardens: St Alban’s Hall.” The photo is dated 1956, confirming that the northern side of Baldwin’s Gardens appears to have suffered the worst bomb damage.

Baldwin's Gardens

Image credit: London Metropolitan Archives, City of London: catalogue ref: SC_PHL_01_144_56_3265

If you look to the lower left of the building there are two plaques on the wall. The one on the right is the St. Alban’s Hall, whilst the one on the left is the one that can been today as shown in my photo. The following is an enlargement of the plaque from the above photo to show it is the same:

Baldwin's Gardens

This is what I find so fascinating about walking London’s street – being able to find the traces of long lost buildings and activities and being able to trace them to their original place.

Baldwin’s Gardens schools seemed to have played a part in early teacher training. A newspaper article from 1875 comparing school education in the United States with that in the United Kingdom, and the approach to teacher training, writes: “But as early as 1811, the National Society in our own country had begun, in a rudimentary fashion, to train teachers at Baldwin’s-gardens school in London, and in 1817 the British and Foreign School Society followed with an organisation of their own for the same purpose.”

So perhaps this rather plain London side street was once a pioneer in the work of teacher training.

According to A Dictionary of London, published in 1918, the name comes from a Richard Baldwin who was a gardener to Queen Elizabeth the 1st and erected the street in 1589.

In “The London Encyclopedia” by Ben Weinreb and Christopher Hibbert, they confirm that the street was built in 1589, and add that it was on the site of Brook House, the mansion of Lord Brooke. Apparently it held the privilege of sanctuary and criminals fled to Baldwin’s Gardens to live without fear of the law. This privilege ended in 1697. The London Encyclopedia also states that “the area continued as a notorious slum, much frequented by criminals, and part of the locality known as the Thieves’ Kitchen, a training ground for young criminals.”

London by George H. Cunningham (1927) confirms the reputation of the area and adds that it was one of the most dangerous and disreputable of slums. This notoriety was removed in the building of St. Alban’s Church, and that “alterations and improvements have completely changed the appearance of Baldwins Gardens”

Baldwin’s Gardens featured in the 1746 map by John Rocque:

Baldwin's Gardens

A further insight into the area can be found in my post on the nearby Hole in the Wall Passage.

In the second of the 1949 photos, a large building can be seen on the right of the photo. This is part of the Bourne Estate, a housing development by the London County Council in the first decade of the 20th century. Part of the estate can be seen from Baldwin’s Gardens:

Baldwin's Gardens

To take a look at the estate, I walked out of Baldwin’s Gardens, a short distance north along Leather Lane to Pontpool Lane where one of the main entrances to the estate can be found:

Baldwin's Gardens

There was some damage to the estate during the war, however the majority appears to have survived. A rather impressive entrance archway leading through into the estate:

Baldwin's Gardens

Ever on the lookout for plaques on buildings, the building on the corner of Pontpool Lane and Leather Lane has a plaque with the date 1895, presumably the date the building was constructed (seen above the Greggs sign).

There is a second plaque to the lower left:

Baldwin's Gardens

The plaque states that the wall is the property of the London County Council.

Baldwin's Gardens

Leather Lane has a fascinating history which I hope to write about in the future, however to finish today’s post I did find a rather traditional hairdresser in Leather Lane. I always take a photo of these when I find them in London’s streets to continue the series of photos of London hairdressers started in the 1980s.

Baldwin's Gardens

Baldwin’s Gardens is an ordinary London side street, but one that was built by the gardener to Queen Elizabeth the 1st. It was the haunt of thieves and a dangerous place until the building of the church, and the street has been host to a junior school since the 19th century – rebuilt since the wartime destruction of the previous school. There is history to be found in every street.

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