Category: Central London

  • London – Central London – The Hand and Shears

    London – Central London – The Hand and Shears

    There has been a licensed premises at this site near Smithfields since the middle of the sixteenth century, although the current building dates to 1849. I visited it as it’s in the Good Beer Guide and it’s tucked away a little, just behind St. Bartholomew’s Church.

    This location is noted on the list of CAMRA’s Historic Pub Interiors and they think that these signs date to around the 1930s. Usually swept away by endless refurbishments, the two separate areas of the pub still survive.

    The pub is Grade II listed and, since it’s so comprehensive, this is the listed building record:

    “The history of the Hand and Shears in Smithfield can be traced back to the C16. Whilst the name is recorded at this early stage, the plot it occupies and the surrounding street layout are of a slightly later date. The arrangement of Middle Street, between Cloth Street (to the east) and Kinghorn Street (west), is largely the product of the redevelopment of St Bartholomew’s Priory overseen by Lord Rich, for which leases of new properties were issued between 1597 and 1614. An etching of 1811 shows the prominent corner-plot position of the public house and the earlier building’s gambrel roof to Kinghorn Street with its two bar room entrances. The name ‘Hand and Shears’ references the important local cloth trade which thrived in the area, but it also relates to the famed St Bartholomew Fair which was held annually in August from 1133. The history of the Hand and Shears is closely intertwined with that of the fair, with important ceremonial traditions centred on the public house. One such example was referred to by E A Webb in a history of the fair of 1921:

    ‘There used to be a burlesque proclamation, the evening before the [official] proclamation by the Lord Mayor, by a company of drapers and tailors who met at the ‘Hand and Shears’… from whence they marched, shears in hand, to the archway leading from Cloth Fair into Smithfield, and announced the opening of the fair with a general shout and snapping of shears.’ (E A Webb, ‘Bartholomew Fair’, in The Records of St. Bartholomew’s Priory and St. Bartholomew the Great, West Smithfield: Volume 1, 1921, p300).

    As with other public houses positioned close to markets or fairs, the Hand and Shears hosted what was known as a Pye Powder Court (the name originating from ‘pied puldreaux’, an old French term for a pedlar). From the medieval period, such courts had responsibility for keeping order and settling disputes between merchants and the public at markets and fairs. The court held at the Hand and Shears became particularly notable owing to the notorious vice and disorderly behaviour associated with the Bartholomew Fair. A sense of how the court would have appeared and functioned can be gleaned from a drawing of a session held in the panelled dining room of the Hand and Shears, published in Londina Illustrata in 1811: this shows the Pye Court judge at his bench with his secretary presiding over a dispute between two actors in theatrical dress. Ultimately, the scandal and excess drove the authorities’ efforts to supress it. This culminated in the prohibition in 1843 of all performances and shows, which inevitably caused the popularity of the fair to wane. A report from the Illustrated London News dated the 5 September 1846, lamented the consequent decline of the Pye Powder Court, where its duties had been ‘confined to the receipts of piccage, stallage and tollage’. The suppression of entertainments and the consequent lack of interest meant that, on the eve of the feast of St Bartholomew in 1850, ‘the mayor found no fair worth proclaiming’ (Webb, p317).

    The decline of the Bartholomew Fair broadly coincided with – possibly even brought about – the redevelopment of the Hand and Shears and several neighbouring buildings. The rebuilding of the pub along with the adjoining house at 2 Middle Street was undertaken in around 1850 (sources record alternative dates of 1849 and 1852). The earliest known plan of the building’s bar arrangement is in a conveyance dated 1857, showing a similar configuration to the present arrangement, though with a smaller island counter and the stairs in a different position. The plan demonstrates that the main bar was entered from the corner door, with a private bar and distinct back parlour to Kinghorn Street, as remains the case. To the east, along Middle Street, was a large rectangular dining room with a specified area for bagatelle at its south end. The work of around 1850 appears to have been a private venture (the pub not being tied to a brewery at this stage). However, by 1872, the site was in the hands of the Whitbread Brewery. Save for a brief two-year spell when the freehold passed to the Lion Brewery, the Hand and Shears remained the property of Whitbread until 1896, when it was acquired by Barclay Perkins. In the same year the interior saw some remodelling, with a new internal vestibule added to the Kinghorn Street entrance, the island counter and stairs being reconfigured and a small office added at the back of the dining room. According to the plans, the proposed alterations were ‘before the Bench’ (the licensing magistrates) in February 1896 and were complete by December.

    Into the 1920s some minor alterations were undertaken. In April 1920, plans were produced by F G Newnham (Barclay Perkin’s chief architect) to reposition the stairs to the cellar in order to extend the saloon bar (the same bar room formerly marked as the ‘parlour’). It is probable that this phase of ground-floor work also included the introduction of some of the present bar room windows and the two brick and tile fireplaces, which are characteristic of the period. Six years after the work to the ground-floor rooms, Newnham produced plans to introduce a new service area with a hatch for the first-floor dining area, followed in 1929 with a plan to integrate an adjacent sitting room and the main dining room. This investment prompted a remarkable boom in lunch and dinner sales: the pub recording that in 1930 it served 28,500 meals during the year, this increasing to 650 per week in 1931. Among those served were some esteemed visitors, including Prime Minister Stanley Baldwin on 20 October 1930 and, on 11 February 1931, Winston Churchill.

    Since the inter-war work there have been only minor changes to the Hand and Shears. In 1962, the merged Courage and Barclay Brewery added a women’s WC in part of the former yard area to Kinghorn Street (accessed via an inserted door from the saloon bar). This has since been replaced with a first-floor WC and the rear passage now has steps from Kinghorn Street leading up to the first-floor level. In 1982-1983, the pub had to close for 18 months following structural damage caused by piling at Founders’ Hall on the opposite side of Kinghorn Street. Work was subsequently undertaken to strengthen the existing floors (consented in 1989), with new steel columns and beams inserted to the ground, first and second floors. The pub fittings, including the bar, screens and panelling were stored and reinstated whilst this was undertaken. In addition to the structural work, sensitive refurbishment of the ground-floor expanded the men’s WC into the rear (Middle Street) bar; this phase of work also involved the installation of the diagonal shelving over the servery, the replacement of the original iron columns and the reuse of an existing timber screen to create the counter in the first-floor room.”

    I like that Winston Churchill and Stanley Baldwin visited the pub and by all accounts, the venue hasn’t been that much changed since the popped in for their lunch. I’d confidently say that they aren’t doing 650 lunches per week today, but there is a function room upstairs that allows them to host larger-scale dinners and events.

    Warm and homely, with a fire going. This is the old saloon bar area of the pub and is probably the section that I wouldn’t have been in back in the day, I suspect I’d be saving a few pence and sitting in the public bar.

    The main bar servery and this really is a delightful venue. The staff member was helpful and personable, so it felt like an inviting pub and I liked his engagement. There’s plenty to look at in the pub in terms of heritage and I’m pleased that this hasn’t been turned into a high-end gastropub. This is one of the advantages of the Good Beer Guide, it’s highly unlikely to send me into an expensive pub which is mostly all about the food. They do serve lunches here, but one of their strengths judging from reviews are their sausages rolls and pork pies. A review said that there was no jelly inside the pork pie inside which disappointed them, but it would have surprised and delighted me.

    One negative review of the pub was:

    “The place itself is grimy and very old – it is in desperate need of refurbishing. I wouldn’t go there again.”

    And this is why companies refurbish places, they think it makes them better. But stampeding through this pub with a modernising plan would simply make things worse. Incidentally, everything was clean and organised on my visit, it was all really rather comfortable.

    The beer choice was a little limited, but the Stiff Lip from Portobello Brewing was well-kept and at the appropriate temperature. I liked the surroundings of this pub and two American tourists came in who were merrily enthusing about the heritage and authenticity. The staff member said that the pub had very few customers last week, but it had picked up a little this week, but these remain challenging times for the hospitality industry in this part of London. I very much liked the pub though, the staff member was a clearly competent barman and he made the effort to engage with every customer, welcome them and say goodbye when they left.

    Definitely a very worthy entry into the Good Beer Guide.

  • London – Central London – Punch Tavern

    London – Central London – Punch Tavern

    This is some frontage for a pub and it’s the Punch Tavern located on Fleet Street, operated by Urban Pubs and Bars. I’m trying to visit some of the pubs in London city centre that I haven’t been to before, traditionally because they’re too busy.

    Once a gin palace, and it still has plenty of gins to choose from, it took its current name not from the dreadful Pubco, but from when Punch Magazine staff used to drink here. Every newspaper and major magazine on Fleet Street had its own pub their staff used and they must have drunk a lot at Punch as they had only been publishing for a couple of years when the pub named themselves after them.

    CAMRA have added it to their list of historic pub interiors, noting:

    “Rebuilt in two phases by Saville and Martin, first the main part of the pub and the Fleet Street frontage in 1894-5 and then the Bride Lane frontage with a Luncheon Bar behind in 1896-7.”

    A nicely decorated corridor into the pub, necessitated by the shopfronts on either side of this narrow entrance.

    It wasn’t packed with the customers in the pub, although a group on some sort of tour did pop in later on.

    The Hophead from Dark Star Brewing, which is a perfectly acceptable beer and it was well kept here, and at the appropriate temperature. It was also the only real ale available, so it was fortunate that they had a reasonable one and not Greene King IPA or similar. When things return to some form of normality a pub like this is going to need more choice than this though, it’s not ideal at the moment.

    This pub has a much stronger selection of gins, but there are some bottled beers (clicking on the image makes it bigger).

    The service in the pub was friendly and engaging, so it felt like a welcoming and comfortable place to visit. It’s also a very large venue, there’s a room at the back and additional space for private groups. The reviews are generally positive on-line and the manager answers them politely and professionally, which is usually a good sign. Anyway, everything felt well managed enough, but the beer options aren’t sufficient to want to tempt me back, even though I liked the environment.

  • London – Central London – Ye Olde Cock Tavern

    London – Central London – Ye Olde Cock Tavern

    I’ve meant to visit this historic pub on Fleet Street on numerous occasions in the past, but it’s operated by Greene King and that’s always put me off. However, it’s important to support the hospitality industry and so I thought I’d have a little visit since I was walking by.

    Indeed inspirational, but a slightly odd quote for a family pub, but there we go. Although to be fair, they can hardly advertise their beers given the choice they have inside.

    Slightly hard to read from this angle (I was avoiding my reflection being in the photo) but it reads:

    “The Cock was opened in 1888 with the original fittings from the original tavern on the site of the branch of the Bank of England opposite. The records of the tavern go back to the early seventeenth century. Pepys says “April 23 1668, to the Cock Alehouse and drink and eat a lobster, and sand and…. and then Knipp and I to the Temple again, and took boat, it being darkish. And to Foxhall, alas there are now no Vauxhall Gardens where we can take our Knipp but there is still the Cock.”

    The pub was visited by men like Pepys, Samuel Johnson and Charles Dickens, but they visited the pub that had stood since 1546 on the other side of the road. And the historic fittings brought across in the late nineteenth century were mostly destroyed by a fire in 1990. There’s still a depth of heritage here, but it’s a bit tenuous in places.

    Another history of the pub.

    As for the pub itself, this is a mess. The toilets had no hand-dryer, just a sign saying it was broken, but there was no thought to an alternative provision of hand towels or the like. There was no acknowledgement at the bar which didn’t concern me, but is unusual at the moment given how quiet pubs are. However, it was seeing the ‘exciting’ beer selection of Greene King IPA and bloody Rocking Rudolph which they were trying to discount at £2.50 per pint (I added the bloody BTW, that isn’t the beer name) that made me give up. These are not interesting beers (to me at least, and indeed to few people judging by their Untappd scores) and although there are some generic cask options, I lost heart at this effort from Greene King. There are so many good beers in the world, why do Greene King keep insisting on shying away from quality?

    Anyway, if Greene King don’t care about their pub, then nor do I, so I went to find another venue for a quick drink. I will say that there was a wide selection of gins, which would have once been one of their staple products so there’s some continuation of history there. Greene King make little effort to explain the history of the pub on their web-site and it’s a shame that another operator isn’t in control here. Mainstream as Nicholson’s might be, they’d put a touch of elegance into proceedings, and even JD Wetherspoon would do a far better job although the venue is a little too small for them. Maybe one day a pub like this will be independent and have owners that it deserves given its heritage, even if that heritage is a bit loosely defined.

    Moan over for the day.

  • London – Central London – Salters’ Hall Gates

    London – Central London – Salters’ Hall Gates

    These gates are near to Fore Street, situated a few metres away from the Minotaur sculpture, but these have just a little more relevance to their surroundings. They are the gates purchased in 1887 by Salters’ Hall for their building then located off St. Swithin’s Lane. The gates weren’t specifically created for them, they had been displayed at the International Exhibition and were commissioned by Prince Albert (1819-1861) and designed by John Thomas (1813-1862) at the beginning of the 1860s, but they then both died and so it’s fair to say the project lost its shine a little. There were a few little amendments for the new owners, such as the addition of the Salters’ crest, but then they were good to go. And I’m sure that everyone was pleased with the gates until the 1941 Blitz saw Salters’ Hall destroyed. On the bright side, they still had the gates. In 1949, they were moved to Salters’ Almhouses in Watford and in 2017 they were moved to their current location, near to the new Salters’ Hall.

    The original location of the gates at the old Salters’ Hall (clicking on the map makes it larger).

  • London – Central London – The Minotaur Statue

    London – Central London – The Minotaur Statue

    With a stretch of Roman Wall in the background, this is the public space in front of Salters’ Hall.

    Part human and part bull, the sculpture of the Minotaur was designed by Michael Ayrton (1921-1975) in the early 1970s. I was interested to understand the significance of why the monument was placed here and the link, but it transpires that there’s absolutely none. It was originally designed for a private estate, with this cast going to a number of locations before the Corporation of London purchased it in 1973. They then placed it in Postman’s Park, but after just over twenty years it was thought that the sculpture needed a change of scenery and it was moved to a high walkway near to the Roman wall. When that was all redesigned, he was brought down to ground level on the terrace outside the Guildhall School of Music and Drama.

    The sculpture does feel a little incongruous to its surroundings, as if it’s trying to make an artistic statement, but no-one is quite sure what it’s saying. It’ll perhaps be moved about again at some point in the future, maybe it’s more suited to somewhere like Canary Wharf where an aggressive sculpture might be more fitting.

  • London – Central London – Roman Wall at St Alphage Garden

    London – Central London – Roman Wall at St Alphage Garden

    This stretch of Roman Wall is located next to the Tower of Elsing Spital, by what is now the road named London Wall.

    This is the listed building map of historic buildings in London, with the red line being the scheduling of the remains of Roman Wall that still stand (or where foundations are known to survive), a series of large and small fragments which show the size of early Londinium. This section of Roman Wall is near to the top of the image, a little closer to the Blackfriars end rather than the Tower of London end.

    Looking down from the aerial walkway, this would be a much busier scene in summer months with people eating their lunches or just taking some time to get outside in the relative peace and quiet of the surroundings.

    That’s Salter’s Hall in the background, now a large charitable institution, but previously one of the Livery Companies of the city. It’s a modernist style building which is in keeping with the nearby Barbican development in its post-war contemporary architecture, although it doesn’t fit quite as easily with the Roman wall.

    The plaque is now harder to read, but notes when this area was laid out as a public garden in 1872.

    Much of what is visible isn’t part of the Roman wall, although the foundations of the original structure are still there, but they were built on during the medieval period when it was being strengthened. The brick section on the far right of this photo is from 1477 when Ralph Jocelyn ordered substantial repairs to the wall, at that stage in a bad state in some sections, during the War of the Roses. He bravely raised taxes to fund this endeavour, as well as purchasing large quantities of bricks and lime.

    There was also a church, St Alphage, which backed onto this site and the former wall lines are marked on the ground. This church was constructed in the eleventh century, but was knocked down during the Dissolution of the Monasteries.

    Another Victorian stone, but it’s now nearly entirely unreadable, damaged by the decades of London smog, pollution and not helped by the bombing of the area during the Second World War.

    The medieval putlog holes are still visible where the wooden scaffolding was once placed against the structure.

    The rear of the wall is visible from the gardens of Salter’s Hall which are sometimes open to the public, but which were closed when I visited. The medieval brick additions, and the only stretch of crenellations along the wall which survive, are much more easily seen from this side. The reason that so much of this wall survived was due to it being incorporated into later buildings, although it was only after the bombing of the Second World War that it became quite so visible.

  • London – Central London – Tower of St Elsyng Spital

    London – Central London – Tower of St Elsyng Spital

    Located on London Wall, the road named after the Roman defensive wall, this is all that remains of St Elsyng Spital church. It was part of the structures built by William Elsyng, a wealthy London merchant, as a hospital in 1330 to help the poorest members of society in medieval London.

    Clicking on this image will make it larger and it’s the site in around 1900 and next to it, what there is today. Reconstruction following the Second World War saw much of this area swept away, but the remains of the church were kept. The landscape has changed substantially though, London Wall now ploughs through this part of London and the area has been opened up to the public. The little cursor on the map on the left is where the remains of the tower stand today.

    Through the central arch would have been the main part of the church, the choir and then the nave.

    The hospital section of the site was the first to be constructed, with the priory church being completed in 1340. This was later turned into a parish church in 1536, following the Dissolution of the Monasteries. Much of the rest of the site was damaged in 1541 and some of the buildings were turned into a private house, which all became part of Sion College in 1630. There was substantial damage caused by the Great Fire in 1666, but the College remained here until 1886 when they moved to a new site in Victoria.

    The cloisters and cemetery would have been off to the right, under what is now London Wall road. The church was damaged in a First World War air raid and part of it was reconstructed in 1919, but the nave was removed in 1923. This wasn’t an entirely destructive process in terms of the history, as the nave of the building only dated to between 1774 and 1777 when it was rebuilt as the old church was falling down, but they did keep the original tower. Following the demolition, the tower and porch were turned into a small church of its own, but this was in turn damaged during an air raid during the Second World War, with the area being comprehensively redesigned.

    The stone steps into the tower remain, although are gated off. The steps aren’t easily visible due to the assorted litter that has collected up here.

    There’s now a walkway to get a better view of the church and in the centre is where the stone steps come out.

    The remains of the church in their new post-war surroundings in what is a decent public space, with numerous interpretation boards explaining the history of the site. Although the medieval street plan has been lost here, the tower is now more visible than it would have been in previous centuries since all of the buildings around it have been removed. I’m sure that there have been many times in the past when planners thought that it would just be easier to remove this section, but it’s now an important part of the local landscape.

  • London – Central London – Postman’s Park

    London – Central London – Postman’s Park

    This park is a short walk from St. Paul’s Cathedral and was once three separate churchyards before being merged together in 1880 as a space that the public could use to exercise and relax. It’s a relatively sizeable space for such a central area of London, but it had long since struggled to deal with the number of burials that were needed at the site. With London’s central churchyards being not only full by the 1840s but also a dangerous health hazard where diseases spread, the idea was to open up cemeteries around the city (the Magnificent Seven) and turn sites such as this into public spaces.

    This map from the end of the nineteenth century also gives a clue to the reason for the park’s (named as the recreation ground) name, simply that it was commonly used by staff from the General Post Office.

    The park is made up of three different churchyards, those belonging to St Botolph’s Aldersgate church, Christ Church Greyfriars and St Leonard Foster Lane. Only the former is still standing, with Christ Church now being in ruins due to bomb damage during the Second World War and the third was lost in the Great Fire of 1666. Some of the ruins of the latter church remained until the nineteenth century, but they were destroyed during the construction of the General Post Office in the nineteenth century.

    The former Christ Church churchyard entrance.

    Looking across the park to St Botolph’s Aldersgate church.

    A rather large tree that has been here for some considerable time, with some graves which were once in the churchyard of St Botolph’s Aldersgate, but which were shoved against the wall in the late nineteenth century when the park opened.

    A rather lovely little water feature.

    The St Botolph’s Aldersgate church entrance to the park.

    Also in the park is the Memorial to Heroic Self-Sacrifice.

  • London – Central London – Memorial to Heroic Self-Sacrifice

    London – Central London – Memorial to Heroic Self-Sacrifice

    Located in Postman’s Park and on the site of the former graveyard of St Botolph’s Aldersgate church is this memorial to those brave individuals who have died through acts of great self-sacrifice. This is the idea of George Frederic Watts, a painter and sculptor, who wanted the bravery of ordinary men, women and children to be remembered for generations to come. The memorial opened in 1900 and most of the tiles were produced by William De Morgan (later on Royal Doulton produced the tiles), but the project slowly ground to a halt and by 1931 only 53 of the planned 120 tiles were in use. The church has recently started adding more tiles again, bringing the original concept back to life.

    There was a memorial held in the church in December 1905, a year after Watts had died, which was attended by the Bishop of London. A statue of Watts was unveiled and the Bishop referred to the “humility of character and simplicity of life” of the former painter.

    Some of the names on the memorial, with some tragic stories amongst them.

  • London – Central London – The London Stone

    London – Central London – The London Stone

    There’s not much that I can add to the collective on-line resources about this stone, but I still find it an interesting survival. It was once part of a larger stone structure that might date back as far as the Saxon period (some say the Roman period), although the written record is more substantial from the medieval period. It’s known that in 1450 Jack Cade, the leader of a revolt against the governance of the country, entered London and struck the stone with his sword, which he claimed made him the Lord Mayor of London. He was dead soon after, the process wasn’t quite as smooth as he might have hoped.

    Here is the stone in its current home, 111 Cannon Street. It was once located at Candlewick Street, which was later widened to create the current Cannon Street. It has been something of a tourist attraction since the sixteenth century (I suppose they didn’t have many other options then, places like the London Dungeon weren’t trading in the way that they are now), although it had to be moved as it was in the way of traffic. Bloody typical that they move items of historic interest to make way for traffic, but nothing much changes. From the seventeenth century, the stone was placed safely in the wall of St. Swithin’s Church, but that was damaged during the Second World War. It was though included in the replacement building to ensure its future.

    The situation became a little ridiculous more recently when the stone became included in the WH Smiths store and got stuck behind the magazine rack. The entire building was demolished in 2016 and today it’s back in a nice alcove so that the public can easily see the stone. It might not be much to look at, but it’s a remarkable survivor and there’s some considerable heritage to the whole arrangement.

    There’s an information board by the stone (clicking on the image makes it larger). I accept that individuals have to use a lot of imagination here when looking at this lump of rock, but I like that it’s there.