Walking. Gossip. Travel.

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  • Streets of Norwich – Fishers Lane

    Streets of Norwich – Fishers Lane

    Part of my Streets of Norwich project…. I hadn’t forgotten about it, and perhaps in 2021 I might finish it.

    This is Fishers Lane (Fisher Lane on the above map) which is between Pottergate and St. Giles Street. The map above is around 100 years old, the one below is around 150 years old and maps in general alternate between Fisher and Fishers Lane (as well as Fisher’s Lane).

    Clicking on the image will make the map larger and it’s possible to see there were two courts off this street, the Bear & Staff Court and Roache’s Court.

    From 1907.

    The police didn’t like the pub called the Bear & Staff and in 1908 they complained to magistrates that the customers were of a lower class and criminals frequented it. Its location, tucked away in that court, does give it a feel of being somewhat of a vibrant location. The pub sadly closed in 1910, if it had survived I imagine it would have been one of Norwich’s quirkiest drinking options. Unfortunately, the entire street has been lost, although George Plunkett was able to get a photograph of the southern side in 1938.

    The entrance to Fishers Lane from St Giles Street and that is St Giles Hotel on the left hand side.

    Sadly, most of the historic interest of this street has been lost, the entrance to Bear & Staff Court would have been around where the two buildings on the left hand side join. The ugly cladded building is Vantage House, which was used as offices by the council, but the owners have been granted permission to turn it into 44 flats. That cladding was added by Harley Facades, better known now perhaps for their work on the Grenfell Tower refurbishment. I’m not sure why the council have granted permission for it to be turned into flats (although I think they might have had limited powers to stop it as it’s a conversion), it’s not a pleasant building and I’d have thought it would have been better to demolish it and replace it with something more uniquely designed and purpose built for housing.

    Looking back to St Giles Street.

    The buildings on the other side of the road are older and are former warehouses, although nothing on the street is listed (other than the properties facing onto St Giles Street).

    Standing on Pottergate looking back up the hill.

  • British Library – British Library’s Georeferencer service

    British Library – British Library’s Georeferencer service

    Several years ago, the British Library placed one million images on Flickr as part of their attempt to encourage people to engage more with their collections. The above image is just one of those, it’s from the book ‘A Guide to Cambridge’ by Sir George Murray Humphry which was published in 1883.

    I rather like maps, they can be fascinating in terms of what history they show, or in a modern sense, they can inspire new travel ideas and expeditions. Having written that, I don’t use maps for navigation, I’m sold on devices which use GPS and that can show you exactly where you are on the map with a helpful blue dot.

    Anyway, the reason I mention all of this is that I noticed that the British Library have a service called the Georeferencer Service, which places the old map on top of a modern map. So, the map above is transformed at http://britishlibrary.georeferencer.com/id/11164993723. It’s not the only way to achieve this, but it’s managed well and I hope that the British Library are able to add more maps to this in the future. Individuals can assist the British Library with their efforts and there’s more information on this at https://www.bl.uk/projects/georeferencer.

     

  • London – Hackney (Borough of) – Hackney – St. Augustine’s Church

    London – Hackney (Borough of) – Hackney – St. Augustine’s Church

    The tower is all that is left of St. Augustine’s Church in Hackney, which was known as St. John’s Church between 1660 and 1798, the change being a recognition of the former financial involvement of the Knights of St. John. The main part of the building was demolished in 1798, with a larger replacement church being constructed nearby, which is also known as St. John’s. The tower is now the oldest building still standing in Hackney, although the initial intentions were to also demolish this when the new church opened.

    The tower is visible in the centre of this map from around 100 years ago, with the new church to the north-east of it.

    The former church could hold just 1,000 people and this wasn’t sufficient for the congregation size that wanted to attend. The new building held 2,000 people and was designed by James Spiller, who also designed London’s Great Synagogue which was unfortunately destroyed during the London Blitz.

    There wasn’t initially sufficient money to build a tower at the new church, so this part of the old structure was left standing to hold the bells. The new church didn’t receive its tower until 1814, but it was then discovered that the structure wasn’t strong enough to hold the bells, which wasn’t exactly ideal. Finally, in the 1850s, the work was completed to allow the bells to be moved to the new church, and by this time, it was decided to just leave the tower standing at the old church.

    Some of these tomb stones are from the seventeenth century and I assume that they have been moved from their former location either in the nave or from within chapels. The nave and chancel of St. Augustine’s Church had been rebuilt by Sir John Heron and Christopher Urswick in 1517 and, other than for some additions to add capacity, not much had changed by the time it was demolished.

    Where the nave once met the tower, this is also the meeting point for when tours take place as it’s possible to climb to the top of the tower.

    I’m not at all impressed at this little arrangement, where the stones from the graveyard have all been collected up and placed at the side of the park. Although, this may well have had the effect of saving some of the stones from the damage which would have been done through pollution and weathering. I don’t know when this was done, but, at a guess, I suspect it was in 1885 when the public gardens were laid out. It was certainly done by 1908, as the book mentioned in the next paragraph notes that some gravestones were lost and the rest were stacked three abreast around the outside.

    As an aside, it’s not just me who complains about the poor treatment of gravestones and nor is this a modern concern. The 1908 ‘The Fascination of London – Hackney and Stoke Newington’ book by GE Mitton noted “it is said in the demolition of the old church the monuments were shamefully treated, and some of the stones were broken up and used for paving purposes”.

    One of the memorials in the churchyard.

    Stones have been placed to mark where the corners of the old church used to be, this one marks the north-west corner.

    One of the tombs in the graveyard. There was actually another survivor from the demolition of the church in the late eighteenth century, which was the Rowe Chapel which had been built in 1614. This was kept as it was privately owned and it was protected and given a new roof. Having noted that, the demolition of the church was clumsy and without much care for heritage, it was noted at the time that the figures on the tombs lost their heads and damaged fragments were just kept in the toolshed. Unfortunately, the structure collapsed in 1877, although the chapel was still kept in situ. It was only in 1896 that the chapel was demolished and the now badly damaged monuments taken to the new church.

    Hackney is unfortunate to have lost the church that it did, although at least the remaining tower is Grade I listed. The new church, slightly surprisingly for such an innovative project, was seen by many as quite dull and plain when it opened, and it certainly looks like that internally today. I didn’t find much of interest in terms of the architecture of the new church (I say new, it’s over 200 years old), but the heritage of the former site is fascinating and a number of information boards have been put up around the site.

  • Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue – Day 251, 252 and 253

    Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue – Day 251, 252 and 253

    The Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue was first published at the end of the eighteenth century, and given that the current health crisis is giving too much time to read books, I thought I’d pick a daily word from it until I got bored…. And to catch up after getting behind with these posts, and because I’m getting towards the end of the book, I’m doing three days at once now. How lovely….

    Pickthank

    This is defined by Grose as “a tale-bearer or mischief maker” and it evolved from meaning someone who was sycophantic, literally trying to pick up thanks. The word was first used in the late fifteenth century, was used by Shakespeare and was commonly used into the nineteenth century.

    The English language is a little mysterious, or at least how it’s used, as this word remained in usage for centuries and then just faded away in the twentieth century. I prefer its original meaning, someone who always looking to curry favour with others, in order to pick up a thanks.

    Pig

    This definition surprised me, as Grose’s definition pre-dates the formation of most police forces. He defines it as “a police officer. A China street pig; a Bow-street officer. Floor the pig and bolt; knock down the officer and run away”. There are all kinds of stories as to why this word came into usage, some have said it’s because the police were like pigs at rooting away, to solve crimes in this case. This seems unlikely to me, it’s likely just a derogatory term which the cant community (the criminal underworld) would have used and which gained wider parlance. Interestingly, the word wasn’t much used in this meaning during the later part of the nineteenth century or the early part of the twentieth century, but then in came back into usage more recently with the same meaning.

    Pig Running

    This is defined by Grose as “a piece of game frequently practised at fairs, wakes, &c. A large pig, whose tail is cut short, and both soaped and greased, being turned out, is hunted by the young men and boys, and becomes the property of him who can catch him and hold him by the tail, above the height of his head”. As a reminder, a wake was a fair in the nineteenth century, this wasn’t an activity held after someone was buried. What is moderately surprising to me is that this still goes on in a few places in the United States, although animal rights concerns have caused this to start to come to a juddering halt. The activity has had numerous other names, such as pig wrestling, pig scrambling, pig catching and so on, and it went on for centuries in the UK.

  • London – Tower Hamlets (Borough of) – Bethnal Green Tube Disaster Memorial

    London – Tower Hamlets (Borough of) – Bethnal Green Tube Disaster Memorial

    This monument, also known as the Stairway to Heaven Memorial, commemorates those who lost their lives in the Bethnal Green Tube disaster of 1943. It’s a striking monument for what was the worst civilian disaster during the Second World War.

    During the late 1930s, the Central Line was being expanded from Liverpool Street over to locations in Essex. The construction work had nearly been completed when the Second World War commenced, but there was no track laid and the site was taken over to be used as war shelters.

    On the evening of the 3 March 1943, there was an air raid warning and many locals proceeded to the station site to find safety. Near to the bottom of the steps down a mother and daughter slipped, which led to people behind falling and then crushing those below. A total of 173 people were killed during the incident, including 62 children, with their names placed on the above panels.

    Clicking on the above photo should make this readable and it’s an account of what happened on that fateful evening. The press weren’t permitted to write about the incident, although the occasional sly mention got through, as there were fears that it might induce a national panic as well as being damaging to the morale of the nation. A report into the incident was commissioned, but wasn’t published by the Government until 1946.

    I think this looks quite sleek and elegant, with the main part of the memorial at the rear being an inverted flight of stairs. The memorial was designed by Harry Paticas, who was also one of the key visionaries behind the entire project. He had noted just a small plaque inside the station marking the event and he wanted something more visible, so that the story wasn’t entirely forgotten.

    These are quotes from survivors and although they’re a little hard to read (both at the memorial and on-line) they add some poignancy to the memorial. A comprehensive web-site was also created alongside the memorial, available at http://stairwaytoheavenmemorial.org/.

    There’s more about the incident on this video, from BBC’s The One Show.

  • London – National Portrait Gallery (Taylor Wessing Photography Prize)

    London – National Portrait Gallery (Taylor Wessing Photography Prize)

    The National Portrait Gallery (NPG) was always going to be closed this year as it is undergoing a restoration project and their timing is perhaps fortunate. But, one thing they share with other galleries is the opportunity to place artworks on-line so that interested people stuck at home can still engage with their collections.

    In this case, the NPG has created a virtual exhibition at https://www.npg.org.uk/whatson/taylor-wessing-photographic-portrait-prize-2020/virtual-exhibition where anyone can view all of the photographs and then vote for their favourite as part of their “Peoples’ Pick”. There’s information about each artwork and you can sort of stroll through the gallery, albeit with quite a lot of imagination.

    This was my favourite and the one I voted for. The gallery notes say:

    “This image was taken by Francis as part of his ‘lockdown journal’, something that was so familiar becomes distant.”

    I don’t want to show the image in full as I’m sure it’s under copyright restrictions, but there’s something about the colourful dress of the lady in the photo combined with her blue facemask that make this very much a photo of 2020, but yet still familiar.

    The winning artist will be revealed on Monday 16 March 2021.

  • London – Greenwich (Borough of) – National Maritime Museum (Figureheads)

    London – Greenwich (Borough of) – National Maritime Museum (Figureheads)

    There are many highlights in the National Maritime Museum, but these figureheads are some of my favourites in the collection. The largest collection of merchant navy ship figureheads in the world is located nearby in the Cutty Sark museum, but the ones here are Royal Navy figureheads.

    Royal Museums Greenwich operate one of the more restrictive copyright policies that I’ve seen from a museum, limiting re-use of their collection imagery. It’s possible to embed the images, but they’re relying on a Flash set-up and that’s being retired. It’s a slight shame as I would have used some of their imagery of figureheads that they don’t have on display in the museum. They’ve made quite an effort with the figureheads though, there’s a separate web-site at http://figureheads.ukmcs.org.uk/ which has 300 of them listed.

    The museum explains that back in the eighteenth century, the Royal Navy would usually have full-length figures, but cost cutting at the Navy Board saw an end to that. Some of the figureheads in existence at that point got cut back, with just the heads usually used after that.

    In the above photo, there are a few obvious figureheads which stand out. The large one on the right in the middle is from HMS Himalaya, which was built for the Peninsular and Oriental Steam Navigation Company (P&O) in 1853 and was known as SS Himalaya. After a few months, P&O realised that their ship, which was the largest ever constructed, was too big and there wasn’t enough passenger traffic to justify it. This wasn’t ideal for them, as they had just spent £130,000 on building it. However, they managed to convince the Government to buy their ship for £133,000 and it was transformed into a troopship which could carry up to 3,000 soldiers. The ship was decommissioned in 1894 and was then used as a ship to transport coal until it was sunk by the German Luftwaffe at Portland Harbour in 1940. The figurehead had been removed when it ceased to be a troopship, being stored at Devonport until 1936, when it was presented to the Admiralty.

    At the bottom left of the above photo is the figurehead from HMS Harlequin, a brig-sloop which launched in 1836. The ship was later used to transport coal and was decommissioned by the Royal Navy in 1899 and was broken up and sold for scrap in 1904. The figurehead was kept and was located on the first floor of Rigging House in the Devonport Dockyard, being donated to the Admiralty in 1936.

    Above the HMS Harlequin figurehead is the one from HMS Tribune, in the style of a Roman tribune. The ship was a wooden screw corvette which was launched in 1854, but it didn’t last long as it was sent for breaking up in 1866. I’m not entirely sure that taxpayer’s money was used entirely wisely there. The figurehead ended up in the same place as the HMS Harlequin and was also gifted to the Admiralty in 1936.

    The last British battleship to have a figurehead was HMS Rodney, which was launched in 1884 and remained in use until it was broken up in 1909. After that, with the exception of on some smaller Royal Navy ships which still used figureheads, the tradition changed to have a ship’s badge instead. This doesn’t seem quite as exciting to me, there’s something quite appealing about knowing how many sailors from the Royal Navy would have seen the figureheads on these ships and likely been quite attached to them.

    My only other comment, for what it’s worth (which isn’t much) is that the figureheads are all a bit pristine. They’ve nearly all been repainted, although not necessarily recently, so they don’t have that feel of having been on the front of the ship. The museum does have plenty of figureheads which no longer have much paint left, and I prefer these as they feel more authentic, but they’re mostly not on display.

  • Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue – Day 248, 249 and 250

    Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue – Day 248, 249 and 250

    The Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue was first published at the end of the eighteenth century, and given that the current health crisis is giving too much time to read books, I thought I’d pick a daily word from it until I got bored…. And to catch up after getting behind with these posts, and because I’m getting towards the end of the book, I’m doing three days at once now. How lovely….

    Peter Lay

    This is defined by Grose as “the department of stealing portmanteaus, trunks, &c”, which is a throwback to when bags, parcels and trunks were known as ‘Peters’. I’m not quite sure where that word origin came about, but there was another phrase, not mentioned by Grose, which was to “peter-drag”, which was to steal bags from carriages. Google doesn’t much like me searching for ‘Peter Lay’, it seems to think that surely I must mean ‘Peter Kay’….. Anyway, this was one of these phrases, mostly used by the criminal underworld by all accounts (Peter Lay that is, not Peter Kay).

    Petty Fogger

    This phrase is defined as “a little dirty attorney, ready to undertake any litigious or bad cause: it is derived from the French words petit vogue, of small credit, or little reputation”. The phrase came into use in the sixteenth century and it remains in use today, although it’s usually now just one word such as pettifogging. The OED give a different word origin, noting “from petty + obsolete fogger ‘underhand dealer’, probably from Fugger, the name of a family of merchants in Augsburg in the 15th and 16th centuries.” Grose is right though, the word at the end of the eighteenth century was pettyfogger with the meaning that he gave, but it now tends to mean a lawyer or politician who focuses on small or petty details.

    The evolution of the word with its different spellings, showing how frequently it was used in the nineteenth century compared to the twentieth century.

    Pharaoh

    This word is defined by Grose as “a strong malt liquor”, which sounds rather lovely. As an aside, when this word entered the English language, it was for some time spelled as ‘Pharao’ without the final ‘h’. The word was used in this way from the middle of the sixteenth century to the middle of the nineteenth century, and it likely came from the belief that Pharaoh was a strong or powerful leader, hence a powerful or strong beer.

  • Lakenham – Church of St. John the Baptist (John Mackie)

    Lakenham – Church of St. John the Baptist (John Mackie)

    It’s fair to say that I wasn’t over-excited about this church, but the churchyard of St. John’s has some interesting graves. This one puzzled me because of just how well it has been preserved. It stands on top of bricks and looks almost new, despite it dating back to 1796. I’m unsure of why this is, it gives the impression of having been moved from inside, but there’s no obvious evidence that this is what has happened.

    Anyway, it’s the tombstone of John Mackie, as well as two of his children who died in their infancy, Mary and Charles. John married Mary Aram at this church on 8 January 1778. Mary, who is buried with her father, had been baptised on 4 August 1782, but she sadly died at the age of two and was buried at the church on 16 November 1784. Charles, also buried with his father, died at the same age, being buried on 17 March 1791.

    I’m unsure how many children the couple had, but this is the baptism record for John and Mary’s son, also named John. He was baptised at the church on 29 March 1785, a reminder of how important St. John’s Church would have been to the family. Unfortunately, the younger John didn’t have that long a life, he died at the age of 33 in 1818.

    John worked as a seedsman and this is one of the ads that he placed in the Norfolk Chronicle in 1788. He must have been reasonably well known locally, as he never placed his address in these adverts, but I think his nursery was on the Ipswich Road. That means it would have likely had a prominent location for those entering and leaving the city.

    It was reported in the Norfolk Chronicle on 22 October 1796 that John had died, noting “Monday last died, Mr. John Mackie, nursery and seedsman, near this city, aged 53; whose abilities in his profession, attention to business, and obliging liberal behaviour, was exceeded only by his affection and tenderness to a disconsolate wife and family”.

    The expense of the tombstone suggests that John wasn’t a poor man and his trade seems to be one which afforded him some luxuries. He also seemed to breed spaniels, as there are numerous adverts relating to that in the local press. His business survived though after his death, it was taken on by family members who kept the Ipswich Road site operational. It evolved into Mackie and Ewing’s Nursery and the business was still trading in the late nineteenth century.

  • Norwich – Breath by Paul de Monchaux

    Norwich – Breath by Paul de Monchaux

    Just to show how little attention I pay to things sometimes, this sculpture has been here since 2011 and I’ve never really paid it the slightest bit of attention. It was commissioned by the council as part of the process of modernising the site of the city’s war memorial.

    The war memorial was first unveiled in 1927, when it was located outside of the Guildhall (photo here) and it was moved in front of Norwich City Hall in 1938 (photo here). In 2011, the war memorial was moved slightly to face the other way, looking at Norwich City Hall, with this bronze sculpture placed where the memorial had once stood. The move was requested by veterans, as the memorial wasn’t being treated with respect by those who found themselves sitting near to it, so it needed a more fitting location.

    The stone on the pavement noting the sculpture. The bronze sculpture is meant to show the connection between life and death, although I have to be honest and note that I struggle to see what the artist had in mind here. However, I like the concept and the motto notes “the living honour the dead, only a breath divides them”. It was quite a brave commission though, and there is something in the thought that it was only chance that divided those who lived and those who died in war.

    The official information about the sculpture notes:

    “Breath is made up of two elements: a tall central slab, flanked on each side by seven ‘leaves’ whose geometry suggests growth. The central element reflects Lutyens’ stone of remembrance”.

    The war memorial itself was designed by Edwin Lutyens, one of the great architects of his generation. What I hadn’t realised until today is that he designed Castle Drogo, which is I think my favourite National Trust property. Although this isn’t perhaps Lutyens’s crowning glory, the thing leaks terribly and it’s costing the National Trust a small fortune to fix.

    Anyway, I digress. I like the boldness of this sculpture and the concept is one that’s perhaps worth pondering.