Another Quite Interesting Sunday London Ride
Another tour of some of the quite interesting things you may have passed on your travels, but never noticed. 15 miles, starting at Hyde Park Corner and ending in Russell Square.
The route (opens in a new window)
Route starts at Hyde Park Corner
STOP: Duke of Wellington’s mounting steps
LOCATION: Junction Pall Mall and Waterloo Place
Arthur Wellesley, 1st Duke of Wellington was famous not only as the man who led the British and Prussians to victory against Napoleon in the Battle of Waterloo in 1815 but he was also British Prime Minister from 1828 to 1830 and again for a short time in 1834.
In 1830 he was in his early 60's and climbing on and off his horse wasn't as easy as it once was so he requested that a set of mounting steps be erected outside The Athenaeum Club where he was a member. The stones have a plaque attached to them which reads, 'This horseblock was erected by desire of the Duke Of Wellington 1830'.
If you look directly across the road you will see another set of mounting steps in front of what was The United Services Club of which Wellington was also a member.
Mounting steps were a common feature up until the late 18th Century at which point better roads were being built along with carriages to transport people so mounting steps began to fall out of popularity.
STOP: The Grand Old Duke Of York
LOCATION: Duke of York’s steps (walk down steps at the end of Waterloo Place)
“The Grand Old Duke of York, he had ten thousand men” This is his commemorative column - 124’ high. The favourite son of George III, he was commander in chief of the British army from 1798 to 1828. By most accounts he was pretty inept as a military commander, but he was a competent administrator and did a lot to raise the professional level of the army. He also founded Sandhurst College.
He could not stand his wife. So in 1803, he set up house with the lovely Mary Clarke, the stepdaughter of a printer. She has a deceptively innocent expression in her surviving portraits. Innocence, however, was not one of her many qualities. Married off at 15, she had sent her husband packing because he drank, and was intent on bringing up her daughters as fashionable ladies by making money through the only means available to her.
For two years, Mary Clarke's luxurious home was a centre of London society. She was obviously more intelligent and strong-willed than the Duke and it was rumoured that she had more sway in military matters than was proper for a kept woman.
A furious officer, Major Denis Hogan, even alleged that he had been denied promotion because he had refused to "kiss the petticoat" – for which he was sued for libel.
Eventually, the Duke tired of his lively mistress but promised her an annuity for life of £400 a year so her daughters would not have to follow their mother's profession.
In January 1809, Colonel Wardle (an MP) stood up in the Commons and sensationally accused the King's son of corruption. He then produced his glamorous witness, who testified that, throughout the time when she was the Duke's mistress, she was selling commissions to would-be officers.
The deal was that someone who wanted a military rank, or a promotion, would pay Ms Clarke and, as she was about to climb into bed with His Grace, she would insist he agree to whatever the client had paid for – or do without his rumpy-pumpy.
The general public was less shocked by the corruption than by the sexual immorality. Everyone knew the system was crooked, but having the details of the private life of a Royal Duke laid bare was a salacious novelty.
It was all acutely humiliating for the Duke of York, who had tried to build a reputation for promoting officers on their merit. His defence was that he had never realised what his mistress was doing, which allowed the cartoonists of the day to have fun with the idea that the army was being secretly run by a woman. Although the Duke was stupid, extravagant, and immoral, he was not vindictive, and people liked him, so the Commons decided to accept his excuse, and voted by 278-196 to clear him of corruption. He resigned his post as Commander in Chief, only to be reinstated two years later.
Wardle, meanwhile, became a national hero. In the archives, there are numerous documents recording how the freemen of town or cities such as Sheffield had unanimously passed a vote of thanks to him for cleaning up the army. But he stupidly repeated the very mistake that had been the Duke of York's undoing. He had secretly promised Mary Clarke that, in reward for her testimony, she would get £5,000 in cash, all her debts paid, her £400 a year annuity restored, and a new house furnished according to her expensive taste. She had already moved into the new house in Chelsea
But when it came to paying for the furniture, trouble started. The rest of the money never materialised. Against the advice of her friends, she took her revenge by publishing a book that revealed the whole conspiracy against the Duke of York. She also told the world that Wardle, who had so publicly denounced the Duke of York's sexual immorality, had a mistress whom he kept under a false name, above a coffee shop in Sloane Street.
To trash the reputation of one Duke was risky. Mary Clarke had now trashed two, and soon England became too dangerous a place for her. She fled to France.
The Duke of York was a very extravagant man and he died leaving dozens of unpaid bills. The column is said to have been funded by voluntary contributions from members of the army at the time, but the reality is each member had a day's pay docked - from the newest recruit to the most senior field Marshal.
STOP: Tothill Fields Prison
LOCATION: Stone archway embedded in the railings on Little Sanctuary
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Also known as Tothill Fields Bridewell, this was a prison from 1618 to 1884. It was named "Bridewell" after the Bridewell Palace, which during the 16th century had become one of the City of London's most important palaces.
In 1834 the original Bridewell was replaced by a larger prison, on a different site close to Vauxhall Bridge Road.
Originally the Bridewell comprised three separate gaols for untried male prisoners and debtors, male convicts, and women. Inmates were put to work oakum-picking and treading the treadmill, and it operated on the silent/separate system. However, due to poor management, the regime was changed in 1850 and the Bridewell then housed only women and convicted boys under the age of seventeen.
The second prison was closed in 1877, when prisoners were transferred to Millbank Prison, and was demolished in 1885. The Catholic Westminster Cathedral now stands on the site. The prison's foundations were re-used for the cathedral.
Famous inmates included the wonderfully named Samuel Drybutter for attempted sodomy (1770-1771).
This is the 17th-century "Stone Gateway", moved here in 1969 and is the only visible remnant of the original prison.
STOP: Horseferry Road
LOCATION: Junction of Dean Bradley St, Horseferry Road and Dean Ryle Street
The road takes its name from the ferry which once existed here. Although there were many ferries across the Thames (London Bridge was the only bridge) most were for people only. Horse ferries allowed horses and coaches to cross. There were several horseferries, including one between Greenwich and the Isle of Dogs. However, this was the most famous one. Owned by the Archbishop of Canterbury, it was an important crossing over the Thames, from Westminster Palace to Lambeth Palace.
Many people think that a horse ferry was so-called because it was pulled across the river by a long rope attached to a horse. That was not the case in London although there may have been such ferries in other parts of Britain. Another misconception is that such ferries were used only to convey horses. The use for a horse ferry was to carry both the horse (or horses) and a cart (or carriage) across the Thames on a vessel resembling a large raft. It had to be wide enough for a cart or carriage to fit onto it and it had to be long enough to allow the horse (or horses) to stand in front of the cart (or carriage) without being taken out of harness.
It is important to realise how heavy such a vessel would have been. It could not possibly have been rowed across the Thames. In shallow water it could have been punted across – using a long pole. Even then river currents would have had a large effect on the vessel. While the tide was going out or coming in the flow the Thames would have made a crossing from one bank to another virtually impossible. At high water there is a time of about 30-60 minutes when the water is still. However the water may also have been too deep in the middle of the Thames to use a long pole to move the vessel. The most likely time for the ferry crossing to be made was at what watermen call ‘dead low water’. There would have been hardly any water currents and the shallow water would have allowed the safe moving the raft from one bank to the other.
The earliest known reference to the ferry dates to 1513, but there may have been a ford near the site in Roman times. The horse ferry is believed to be older than London Bridge which was first begun in stone in 1176. That could mean that the ferry at this point started some time around 1100 or even earlier.
The Archbishop of Canterbury was compensated for the loss of ferry income when the bridge was opened.
STOP: Millbank Prison
LOCATION: Junction of John Islip Street and Ponsonby Place
The remains of the prison moat is opposite Ponsonby Place. The nice houses in Ponsonby Place were built for the warders. The Morpeth Arms was the 'staff pub'.
The large concrete bollards by the river on Millbank commemorate those that were transported from here.
There was a large prison here from 1816 to 1890. Tate Britain is built on part of the site.
Opened in 1816 the prison had six petal-shaped wings, three stories high. Surrounded by a ditch filled with ice cold water. It looked like a fortress. The exact centre of the prison was reserved for the main observation tower.
At first, Millbank Prison served like any other jail and housed people on both and short and long terms. But after some time, damp started to attack the prison creating unbearable conditions that harboured disease. Many prisoners died. The problem lay in the ditch that circled the prison. It was an ideal environment for cholera.
But disease wasn’t the only enemy. The inmates were often starved to death and were left to live in unbearable stench. And if that wasn’t enough to topple the spirits of the inmates, brutal beatings and violence were often administrated.
This is what forced parliament to reconsider. It was decided that the prison was unfit to hold inmates in the long term and so Millbank Prison became a place for short-term holding of prisoners – not longer than three months – that were awaiting their deportation to Australia. The ‘model prison’ role was taken over by Pentonville which had opened in 1842.
According to some researchers, the convicts were taken to the ships via underground tunnels that still survive to this day under the pub, while others state that the prisoners were marched above ground and straight through the front gate.
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Whatever the truth may be, Millbank and the banks of the River Thames at this point were definitely the last bit of British soil the prisoners would feel beneath their feet. Some believe prisoners nicknamed this procedure “going down under” which in turn led to the popular colloquial term for Australia. It is also said another Aussie slang term; ‘pom’ is an abbreviation of ‘Prisoner of Millbank’.
The prison closed in 1890. Not long after this date, it was demolished.
STOP: Vauxhall Pleasure Gardens
LOCATION: Kennington Lane by the entrance to the park
This was a pleasure garden and one of the leading venues for public entertainment in London. Originally known as New Spring Gardens, it was opened before the Restoration of 1660, being mentioned by Samuel Pepys in 1662. The Gardens consisted of several acres of trees and shrubs with attractive walks. Initially entrance was free, with food and drink being sold to support the venture.
It was accessed by boat until the erection of Vauxhall Bridge in the 1810s. The area was absorbed into the metropolis as the city expanded in the early to mid-19th century.
The Gardens drew enormous crowds, with its paths being noted for romantic assignations. Tightrope walkers, hot-air balloon ascents, concerts and fireworks provided entertainment. A rococo "Turkish tent" became one of the Gardens' structures, the interior of the Rotunda became one of Vauxhall's most viewed attractions. A statue depicting George Frideric Handel in the Gardens later found its way to Westminster Abbey. In 1817, the Battle of Waterloo was re-enacted, with 1,000 soldiers participating.
It was permanently closed in 1859. The land was redeveloped in the following decades, but slum clearance in the late 20th century saw part of the original site opened up as a public park. This was initially called Spring Gardens but renamed in 2012 as Vauxhall Pleasure Gardens.
STOP: Lambeth Walk
LOCATION: Pelham Hall, 25 Lambeth Walk
When the song about delirious dancing Cockneys became a hit in the 1937 musical Me and My Girl, the street of the same name was in its heyday, lined with shops and market stalls.
But thanks to a process begun by World War II bombers and completed by urban planners, there are just a handful of shops left and the famous Lambeth Walk street market has all but died.
In 1938, 159 shops lined the street and catered for every need, including 11 butchers, two eel and pie shops (one with a tank of live eels outside), a bird dealer and a tripe dresser. And the market, which was busiest on Saturdays when stalls with gas lamps stayed open late, also stretched right along the road, selling fruit and vegetables plus second-hand clothes and shoes.
The market kept running during World War II - although the street's location, less than a mile from the Houses of Parliament, meant the area suffered from stray bombs.
The war marked the beginning of the end for the street as a commercial and social centre.
The only remaining Victorian shop buildings on the street have been renovated and occupied - but by firms like architects that are not open to the public.
Pelham Mission Hall
The Pelham Mission Hall with its Doulton terracotta and brick facade features an exterior pulpit for Sunday preaching. The foundation stone was laid by Randall Thomas, Archbishop of Canterbury in 1910. Named after Francis G Pelham, Rector of Lambeth 1884 - 1894, it has not been used for public worship since 1949.
It is now the Henry Moore Sculpture Studio and used by Morley College.
STOP: Public baths
LOCATION: Further up Lambeth Walk where the road bears left
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These are the third Lambeth Baths to be built. They opened in 1958. So even then, the area was so run down and the housing so poor that public baths were required. The building housed individual baths and laundry facilities but no public swimming pool. After many years of decline and neglect, the baths were converted in the 1990s into a doctors surgery and a teaching unit for King’s College Hospital.
Toilets - Flat Iron Square
STOP: Redcross Garden
LOCATION: Redcross Way
Red Cross Garden started life as an idea from the Society of Friends (Quakers). In 1762 they took out a lease on the West side of Red Cross Street (today’s Red Cross Way) in order to build a meeting house on some land they already owned and used as a burial ground.
The ground was closed for burials in 1794, the meeting house was enlarged in 1799 and was in use until 1860. On the south wall is attached an 18th-century coat of arms but no inscription. It probably came from one of the tombs in the burial ground.
In 1887 part of the gardens were bought by Julie, Countess of Dulcie on the advice of Octavia Hill.
Octavia Hill was one of the founding members of the National Trust and a social reformer. She was a firm believer in quality housing for the the working poor and Red Cross Garden was one of her flagship projects, providing an open space for the overcrowded and often unsanitary conditions of Southwark locals.
As well as the garden she also commissioned six cottages overlooking Red Cross Gardens. They date from 1887. These cottages were model dwellings and were attached to a community centre. The garden was intended by Hill as an ‘open air sitting room for the tired inhabitants of Southwark’.
They embody her idea of wholesome housing and their gabled fronts and bay windows have a strong Arts and Craft influence.
The garden was restored to its original Victorian form in 2005.
STOP: Marshalsea prison
LOCATION: St George’s Churchyard Gardens
The Marshalsea Prison dates from the 14th century. The building was demolished in 1842, so now all that’s left is a sturdy-looking brick wall enclosing the park, which itself is built on the burial grounds of St George the Martyr.
The first Marshalsea was notorious, conditions were famously squalid, unhygienic and, eventually, deadly.
In 1729 it was the subject of a national scandal when a young architect, Robert Castell, fell into debt and was thrown into the Marshalsea. He was placed into a cell and forced to share a bed with a man dying of smallpox. His protests were met with silence and Robert died within a month. In that same year a parliamentary committee reported that 300 inmates had starved to death in a period of 3 months, and 8 – 10 were dying each day during the warmer, summer months.
And these weren’t ‘criminals’ as we’d consider today. The only crime they had committed was not being able to pay off debts. This was shockingly common, and particularly in the early 19th century because of the South Sea Bubble crash of 1720. Many Londoners tumbled into debt and then into debtors prison. In the 1700s over half of England’s prison population were in jail for debt.
But how do you pay your debts in jail? A fair question and one the privately-owned prisons of the time seemed less than concerned by. In fact, in prison you had to pay for everything. Pay to have the luxury of your chains removed on arrival, pay for bedding, pay for laundry. Even if you died, your family had to pay to have your body released. And a debtor could have his/her whole family living with them, although the other family members were free to leave to work during the day.
Aged 12, Charles Dickens was sent to work at a boot-blacking factory when his father, John Dickens, was imprisoned in Marshalsea. His father owed £40. Dickens' mother went to live with her husband inside the jail, taking their youngest children with her. She left Dickens and possibly the eldest sister, Fanny, to fend for themselves. Dickens took a room near the Marshalsea in order to have meals with them. However, he was haunted all his life by the shame of his father's sentence, and the menial work he had to do, and spoke very little about it.
John Dickens was lucky. He ended up being released after 6-8 weeks because he received an unexpected inheritance from an Aunt. Many weren’t as fortunate.
When the Marshalsea was eventually torn down in 1842, Dickens captured the mood in Little Dorrit;
“It is gone now; and the world is none the worse without it”
STOP: Nancy’s steps
LOCATION: Montague Close, under London Bridge
Plaque inscription: “These steps and arch are surviving fragments of the 1831 London Bridge designed by John Rennie and built by his son Sir John Rennie. The steps were the scene of the murder of Nancy in Charles Dickens' novel Oliver Twist”.
The plaque has the facts wrong; in the novel Nancy is murdered in her house. It is in the 1960 musical Oliver! that she is murdered at the steps leading to London Bridge.
New London Bridge, as it was known originally, opened in 1831 and was shipped to the USA after being replaced in 1967 by the current bridge. The 1831 bridge is 100 metres upstream of the old medieval bridge, which remained in use during its construction. The current bridge was built either side of its predecessor before the 1831 bridge was taken down and the middle section filled in.
Toilets - London Bridge station
STOP: Bermondsey Street
LOCATION: Outside Numbers 68 - 76
Industry.
Through the ages this whole area was very industrial. The tanners and associated industries were already here by 14th century. The smelly industries settled at the east end of London for several reasons - it was easier to transport the raw materials on the river, the Thames tides would wash the filth downstream away from the wealthy houses further west, and the prevailing wind was east to west, blowing away the smells. In this area we have Tanner Street Park, Tanner Street, and the London Leather Exchange. It was very poor.
Numbers 68 to 76.
A row of grade II listed buildings dating for the mid 18th century. The wooden structure on top of number 76 is contemporary with the original building and had big windows for the leather workers to get better light to work with.
STOP: Time and Talents & St Mary Magdalen
LOCATION: Next to 181 Bermondsey Street
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This was built around 1907-8 as a hostel for the Time and Talents Association, as seen in the Arts and Crafts lettering in the carved stone frieze above the ground floor.
The Time and Talents Association was founded by missionary Minna Gollock in 1886. It is an odd name for an organisation which today would be regarded as rather patronising. Its members were wealthy ladies fed up with the ‘waste and futility’ of their lives of leisure. They descended upon Bermondsey from the drawing rooms of West London to devote their ample ‘time and talents’ to help the underprivileged young girls and women. So, it is, in fact, a very literal name for an organisation.
Time and Talents found a permanent home in these premises and would occupy the building for over 60 years, providing a hostel for young women as well as a space for ’healthy recreation’, singing, basketwork, knitting and sewing.
The building later became studios with flats above, but Time and Talents still exists, these days in premises in Rotherhithe.
St Mary Magdalen was rebuilt in 1667. The only surviving remnant of the building from before then is the lower portion (about 25 feet, possibly) of the late medieval tower, including four gothic arches in the chamber behind the organ, and this is the oldest survivingbuilding in Bermondsey. The upper-most part of the tower is entirely later The new building was completed by 1690 and is essentially what is seen today.
Further structural work was done in 1829, including the remodelling of the exterior in “playful Gothic” style with mock battlements and external rendering to give a stone effect over the brickwork. It was about this time that the tower was reduced in height to the present level, probably due to concerns about the weight of the tower and the strength of the building below.
The Victorians had a habit of adding embellishments to medieval buildings that they didn’t think were medieval enough. This is a good example.
STOP: Watch House & Dummy watch house
LOCATION: Opposite Market Yard Mews, Bermondsey Street
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Up to Victorian times, there were so many burials, they simply laid the bodies down then covered them with a shallow layer of earth, adding other bodies above. In low lying areas such as this, with Guy’s Hospital so close, grave robbers were a problem. Hence the watch houses, where watchmen would be stationed overnight to stop newly buried bodies being dug up and sold on to the local medical schools. Notice how the level of the park is above the street - a feature of many central London churchyards and caused entirely by the sheer volume of burials. Also the dummy building, perhaps to give the impression of two watch houses.
Bermondsey Abbey (at the junction with Long Lane/Abbey Street) was founded in 1082. There’s a reference to Bermundeseye church in the Domesday Book (1086). Bermondsey Street was the original route from the river to the abbey - hence it is straight. The abbey was built on a hill elevating it above the marshy ground. The village centre was around Abbey Street. The name comes from old english and may have meant 'Beornumund's Island'.
Henry II held his court at Bermondsey Abbey in the mid-12th century. This was an early version of the English Parliament.
STOP: Manze’s Pie and Mash
LOCATION: Junction Bermondsey Street/Tower Bridge Road
The earliest pies are thought to have originated in Ancient Egypt circa 2500 BC, made from ground oats or wheat wrapped around a honey filling. But it was the Greeks who first developed a recognisable pastry made with flour and water, and then the Romans — around the second century BC — who started to play with a range of fillings and create the meat pies that are common today. It’s with the Roman conquest of Britain, beginning in 43 AD, that pies made it to our shores.
Fast-forward to the Victorian era and pies became popular street food. Lacking the funds for premises, several hundred so-called ‘piemen’ would walk the streets selling their wares, particularly in the industrial areas of the east and south-east London. They came with a number of different fillings including meat and fruit, but most commonly eels.
Eels were particularly common (and thus cheap) in London at the time. They were one of very few fish that could survive in the heavily-polluted Thames and other London rivers.
Gradually, pie and mash moved off the streets and into premises, giving birth to the ornate Victorian shops which we still see today. It’s thought that the first shop opened in 1850 — though it isn’t named — and before long such pie 'n' mash outlets were commonplace.
These shops would also sell the Cockney classic of jellied eels, and usually have stalls outside selling live eels to be cooked at home. Inside there would be marble floors and counters — typical for the time, but unmistakably grand when viewed today. The walls would usually be covered in paintings and later photographs, with floors strewn with sawdust to gather up the eel bones that were spat out.
It was in these shops that the offering was tweaked and modernised. Minced beef or lamb with onions became a more popular pie filling than eels, while mashed potatoes quickly gained popularity as an accompaniment to bulk out the dish. Eels still played a crucial part though. The water used for stewing them was flavoured with parsley to create eel liquor, a sauce which tends to be a lurid green colour and is served with the pies in place of gravy.
While pie and mash shops at their height were as popular as burger restaurants or curry houses are now, there are two key families who have been particularly influential over the years: the Manzes and the Cookes. Together they run London’s oldest existing pie and mash shops.
This is London’s oldest existing pie, mash and eel shop. It opened on Tower Bridge Road in 1891. It was founded by Michele Manze, whose family moved to London from southern Italy in 1878, and began selling pies after dabbling less successfully in ice-cream and ice-cream makers.
STOP: Wapping Pier Head
LOCATION: On the right on Wapping High Street, immediately after Knighten Street
This was once the main maritime entrance of the London Docks, spanning over 90 acres of land. By 1805, when these docks were built, the area was covered in warehouses and elegant cottage dwellings belonging to the Dock Company senior officials, customs officers and wealthy merchants who would keep a watchful eye on the ships entering and leaving the docks.
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When the docks operated, Wapping High Street was covered in wagons and teams of workers stood by to unload and load the ships constantly coming in and out of the docks. The riverside wharves and dock warehouses that lined either side of the high street, were connected by iron catwalks to facilitate the secure movement of merchandise between warehouses. The imposing architecture along this street led many of its Victorian visitors to describe it as a "double-decker city".
The London Docks Company specialised specialised in rice, tobacco, wine, wool and brandy. By 1925 the Port of London Authority that owned the London Docks handled over 9m gallons of imported wine a year.
It was during the 1700s that England became popularly known as the warehouse and the workshop of the world. Its foreign trade grew rapidly between 1760 and 1815. Imports into England grew in value from £10 to £30 million a year and its exports rose from £15 to £59 million per year. Britain was providing factory made goods for the rest of the world, increasing its export revenues and accumulating vast capital and wealth. Simultaneously, industrialists made vast personal fortunes through large scale manufacturing.
Either side of the original lock entrance at the Pier Head are fine Georgian houses that were built for officials of the London Docks Company in 1811-13.
The locks were too small for ships in use by the 1930s and in 1963 the London Docks closed.
STOP: Plague pit
LOCATION: Scandrett Street
The "Great Plague" of 1665 killed 100,000 Londoners. But there were lots of other breakouts, and that wasn't even the worst. London was hit by plague in 1348 (the "Black Death"), in 1518, and 1563. The worst was 1563, which killed almost a quarter of the population of the capital.
But where did all these bodies go?
The answer: in tens, if not hundreds of plague pits scattered across the city and the surrounding countryside. The majority of these sites were originally in the grounds of churches, but as the body count grew and the graveyards became over crowded with the dead, so dedicated pits were hastily constructed in the fields surrounding London.
Unfortunately there is very little evidence about the exact location of these plague pits, although researchers are now able to piece together the location of quite a few - and indeed the crossrail works uncovered one close to Liverpool Street station.
St John's Church, Scandrett Street. Although the majority of St John's church was destroyed by a direct hit from an incendiary bomb during the Blitz, the site of the original 1665 plague pit can still be seen directly opposite from the church's remains.
STOP: Cornhill Devils
LOCATION: Cornhill, junction with Gracechurch Street
Look up at the building at numbers 54 - 55 Cornhill and you’ll spot the Cornhill Devils. You will lock eyes with a hideous demonic figure, balanced precariously on a ledge above you.
And there’s a second devil with an expression that is nothing short of twisted malevolence, and which appears to be howling a hellish curse of indignation down upon the church below.
And, since this one appears to be howling down on the entrance to St Peter's church - which tradition maintains is one of the oldest sites of Christian worship in London - you can't help but wonder how he came to be there, since devils and churches might seem like odd bedfellows.
In fact, there are three devils. The two already mentioned are easy to spot, the third is in fact, much smaller - a sort of mini-devil - and is overshadowed by the larger middle demon. But their satanic majesties are not simply confined to the rooftop of the building. Look closely at the decorative twirls and swirls that grace the first floor exterior of the building and you'll notice two more demons hidden amongst them.
Nobody knows for certain exactly how the three devils came to be here. But that hasn't prevented a rather colourful legend from forming around their origins. The story goes that the architect, Ernest Augustus Runtz, inadvertently encroached a little onto the land of the adjoining church of St Peter-upon-Cornhill.
When he saw this, the then vicar of the church was somewhat perturbed by the loss of land and he created such a furore over the unauthorised land grab that Runtz was forced to go back to the drawing board and redesign his plans. Needless to say, he wasn't best pleased by this inconvenience, for which he whole-heartedly blamed the vicar.
When 54 - 55 Cornhill was finally completed, Runtz decided to lob a parting shot in the general direction of the troublesome vicar, and he commissioned the demonic effigies to surmount his building to commemorate their disagreement.
To make matters worse folklore tells us that one of the grotesques is actually modelled on the vicar himself. If that’s true he must’ve terrified his congregation!
STOP: Alderman’s Walk
LOCATION: Alleyway off Bishopsgate on the left immediately before St Botolph
Shown on many older maps as Dashwood Walk, in the 17th century this was a passageway leading to the large house and gardens of Sir Frances Dashwood. When he was elected to the Court of Aldermen of the City of London the name changed to Alderman’s Walk.
On its southern side the Walk adjoins the churchyard of St. Botolph-without-Bishopsgate. Bordering the churchyard in the 15th century was an open drain, where the smell was being blamed on Frenchmen living in the area – as being full of ‘soilage of houses, with other filthiness cast into the ditch…to the danger of impoisoning the whole city.’
St. Botolph’s itself is one of four City churches dedicated to this seventh century patron saint of travellers, and for this reason was positioned hard by one of the City gates.
The cocktail bar now known as The Bathhouse is reputedly modelled on a shrine forming part of the Church of the Holy Sepulchre in Jerusalem, and complete with some lovely Ottoman detailing and even a miniature flattened-onion dome, this charming City curiousity was designed for the Victorian entrepreneur James Forder and his brother.
The structure originally formed the above-ground entrance for the Forders’ extensive subterranean suite of luxurious Turkish baths, the brothers seeking to cash in on a Victorian craze for such things which saw more than 600 such establishments opening up and down the country. Apparently, there had been a bath of one kind or another on this site since 1817. These “new” baths were opened as “The New Broad Street Turkish Baths” in 1895.
Few were as exotic, architecturally, as this one however and having somehow survived the Blitz, the inevitable attempts at redevelopment and a steadily declining interest from the public, the City’s only oriental building slowly lost its facing tiles of tin-glazed earthenware, the cooling fountains of filtered water, the marble mosaic floors, stained-glass windows, and choice of rose, douche, needle or spiral showers. Happily much of the original tiled decoration survives, including several ‘Moorish’ interlocking designs.
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STOP: Bunhill Fields
LOCATION: City Road, opposite John Wesley's House
Originally a stretch of open land, Bunhill Fields got its name from its use as a burial ground during the Saxon period and a macabre event that took place in the mid-sixteenth century. Cartloads of bones from the charnel house at St Paul’s Cathedral were transported out of the city and dumped in such large quantities that they formed a hill of bones, with a thin layer of soil covering the mound. This “Bone Hill” was large enough to accommodate three windmills on top, which were presumably installed to make the most of the elevated ground.
The charnel house at St Paul’s had been used since the 13th Century to store old bones disturbed by later burials. During this period the concept of purgatory had become an official part of Church doctrine and it became acceptable to disinter human remains when no flesh remained on the skeleton, as it was believed that the soul only remained with the body as long as there was flesh on the bones (cremation was not authorised for Christians at this time). This had a useful practical application as old graves could be reused for new burials, freeing up space in churchyards. The dry bones removed from old graves were then stored in charnel houses and this practice continued in Britain until the Reformation. After the Reformation, the use of charnel houses was seen as Popish so most of them were demolished and their contents removed, which helps to explain why the human remains were removed from St Paul’s and taken to Bunhill Fields.
In 1665, a century or so after the Bone Hill was created, Bunhill Fields was given authorisation to be used as a plague pit. The rural location of Bunhill Fields, only a short distance north of the city, made it an idea location for mass burials.
In 1853, Bunhill Fields was deemed to be full, having received around 120,000 burials since the 1660s. About this time, churchyards and older burial grounds were being closed and large, suburban cemeteries were being planned and laid out. The last burial in Bunhill Fields took place in January 1854.
Bunhill Fields as we see it today is a postwar creation – heavy bombing during the Second World War prompted major landscaping work and the northern part of the burial ground was cleared of its memorials, leaving a large grassy area lined with benches.
In 2011, Bunhill Fields was designated as a Grade I listed cemetery, affording it special protection. In addition to this, 75 individual monuments are also Grade II listed.
STOP: Blue Coat School
LOCATION: Hatton Garden, junction with St Cross Street
A Bluecoat school is a type of charity school. The first one to be established was Christ's Hospital. This was founded by Edward VI in Newgate Street in 1552, as a foundling hospital to care for and educate poor children and train them in the skills they would need to work in domestic service.
Between the 16th and late 18th centuries about 60 similar institutions were established in different parts of England. Most of these have closed.
They are known as "bluecoat schools" because of the distinctive blue uniform originally worn by the pupils. Blue was traditionally the colour of charity (it was the cheapest dye), and was a common colour for clothing at the time. The uniform included a blue frock coat, and yellow stockings. Socks were dyed in saffron as that was thought to stop rats nibbling the pupils’ ankles.
This building is reputed to be by Sir Christopher Wren. It was erected as a church after St Andrews Holborn had been destroyed in the Great Fire of 1666. It was adapted for use as a charity school about 1696. It was severely damaged by an incendiary bomb during the 1939-45 war and has since been reconstructed internally to provide offices, the original facades being restored. The figures in eighteenth-century costumes were taken down and sent for safekeeping during the war. They were replaced in their original positions as a memorial to the former use of the building.
STOP: Goodge Street shelter
LOCATION: Chenies Street, opposite Alfred Place
During the early 1940s, eight deep-level shelters were built to protect the population from bombing (seven along the Northern line and one at Chancery lane). Each had two entrances, mostly like this one. Unfortunately, they were not completed until after the main Blitz, so only saw limited use.
They were cleverly designed so that, after the war, they might be linked together to form an express tube line. Alas, more pressing needs meant that the money for the project never materialised.
Each tube would have two decks, fully equipped with bunks, medical posts, kitchens and sanitation and each installation could accommodate 9,600 people. In the event, the capacity was reduced to 8,000 as a result of improved accommodation standards. The first complete shelter was ready in March 1942 and the other seven were finished later in that year.
The arrival of the flying bombs in June 1944 finally moved the Government to open the shelters to the public.
The last air-raid warning of the war was sounded on 28th March 1945, but about 12,000 homeless people and squatters continued to sleep in the tubes until May, when the bunks on the platforms were removed and a start was made on tidying up the stations.
The shelters were never demolished. Most became secure document storage space, but a few have found more imaginative roles.
The Goodge Street shelter entrance on Chenies Street is much more prominent than its other entrance on Tottenham Court Road and is known as the Eisenhower Centre. General Eisenhower used it as his headquarters during the build up to D-Day.
Goodge Street continued in use as an army transit centre. Chancery Lane was converted into a 500 line trunk telephone exchange with a six week food supply and its own artesian well. Camden Town has been used as a set for ‘Dr. Who’ and ‘Blakes 7’.
The shelter at Clapham South is the only one you're likely to get a look inside. London Transport Museum runs occasional tours as part of its Hidden London programme. This is the shelter that briefly housed Jamaican immigrants from the MV Empire Windrush, back in 1948.
STOP: Cabman’s shelter
LOCATION: Russell Square, junction with Thornhaugh Street
This one was originally in Leicester Square.
In 1875, The Globe newspaper editor George Armstrong became furious after he was told by his servant that all available cabbies were seeking shelter in a nearby pub during a blizzard. His response was to get together some like-minded philanthropists and create a charity to erect purpose-built shelters providing hot food and non-alcoholic drinks.
Between 1875 and 1914, 61 shelters popped up across London.
Then came World War I. Drivers and their vehicles were drafted in the military, plunging the cab trade – and the shelters – into decline. Unused, unloved and unprotected, the oak huts suffered rot and ruin. Some were destroyed by bombs during World War II, while many were later bulldozed in street-widening schemes.
Physical signs of their history remain. Tenders attached to the bottom of the huts were where drivers tethered their horses before going inside. The animals drank from marble troughs, now gone. Each shelter still has a rooftop vent with ornate carvings – reminders of the wood-burning stoves once used for heating and cooking.
All cabmen shelters are the same characteristic shed shape because the Metropolitan Police ordered that they had to be situated on public highways and could be no bigger than a horse and cart. The statement green colour is also strictly enforced and is the Dulux Buckingham Paradise 1 Green.
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There are now only 13 Cabmen's Shelters left in London. However, many are still fully functioning cafes where you can get a coffee for a quid. But, only those with The Knowledge are allowed to go inside and sit down.
Thanks to the Cabmen's Shelter Fund, all 13 remaining shelters have Grade II-listed status, so we won't be losing them anytime soon.
The ride ends at the cafe in Russell Square