Game day. Schoolboys in a queue to watch England v. Pakistan. 12 August, 1954
Cricket at the Oval
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Category Archives: history
A celebration of Kennington pubs
Do you remember a halcyon time when we could go to a place and have a drink with people we didn’t live with? Well those days will be upon us again in some kind of fashion on 4 July. Some of these pubs are gone forever, some others rebuilt, and few looking amazingly familiar. We could stare at the pictures all day, and enjoy….
Moore for the people
Did you know there’s a Henry Moore sculpture in Kennington Park? You did? Well we didn’t, so we’re here to tell you moore about it.
The sculpture is called ‘Two Piece Reclining Figure #3′ and it isn’t actually in Kennington Park, but rather nests peacefully in the Brandon Estate (the tall buildings to the back of the park). It is one of five that were cast by Moore, probably in 1961. It was purchased in 1962 by Southwark under a scheme to place artworks in post war estates called ‘The Abercrombie Plan’. The plan was surprisingly modern in hindsight; acknowledging that the psychological perception of a place isn’t just down to basic amenities, but also creative detail. We wrote about other works of art purchased by the plan a few months ago.
For those of you not familiar with Henry Moore, he is best known for his semi abstract bronze and marble works, usually depicting women at rest. He was from Yorkshire, and it is speculated that his figures were influenced by the rolling hills of his birthplace. To us, ‘#3’ appears to be influenced by the female sculptures of the Elgin marbles, but who are we to put ideas in your head. A well known Socialist, Moore believed that art was to be enjoyed by the masses and he must have been very proud that this casting of ‘#3’ can be seen by everyone on the Estate.
Sadly a number of pieces of public art have been stolen and in 2012 Southwark council had to take some quite expensive measures to prevent our Moore from the same sad fate. The residents of Brandon Estate also deserve credit. A bit of free culture while the museums are shut, and It’s a perfect place for a serene picnic without the worry of getting hit on the head with a non socially distanced football.
From Russia with love
We here at the Runoff are an absolute minefield of vaguely interesting trivia, but some of it happens to be fascinating indeed. Did you know that the Russian word for a major rail station is ‘Vokzal’. Remind you of anything? Here’s a clue…think of a lot of dazed clubbers, bus fumes, and a ski ramp.
Vauxhall Pleasure Gardens (and if you haven’t heard of it, there have been whole books written about it) was one of several pleasure gardens in London which were enjoyed by the masses until they fizzled out in the mid 19th century. The activities at Vauxhall included fireworks, balloon rides, concerts, and candlelit walks. Vauxhall was hugely influential on the continent and its attractions replicated many times over. Tivoli Gardens in Copenhagen was originally called ‘Tivoli and Vauxhall’, in fact.
The grounds of Pavlovsk Palace near St. Petersburg were converted into pleasure gardens in the 1840’s and called ‘Vokzal’ as a nod to its inspiration in London. The first railway in Russia served the Imperial family and ran between St. Petersburg and the palace itself. When the railway was opened to the public the station was emblazoned with the word ‘Vokzal’. The purpose of this was to indicate the terminus of the train, but the station itself became known as ‘Vokzal’ and this eventually became the generic term for all rail termini in Russia.
There are plenty of interesting theories about how the Vokzal name stuck, including an incorrect one from The Independent about a visiting Russian delegation. (the Russian railway predates Vauxhall station by a year). Today the name seems to crop up quite a bit across the old USSR, from restaurants to clothing stores…Это увлекательно или как?
The last great epidemic of Greater Kennington
History has an unusual system of circularity, and The Event that has engulfed the world is in many respects very similar to one experienced in early Victorian Greater Kennington. So bring those sparklingly clean hands forward boys and girls, as we are going to tell you about another misunderstood epidemic borne out of a need for greater hygiene.
In the first half of the nineteenth century Lambeth’s waterfront was the industrial hub of London, with factories such Royal Doulton lining the waterfront between Black Prince Road and Spring Gardens and disgorging pollutants into the air and water. The area behind the factories was populated primary by migrants from the countryside and a famine stricken Ireland (and now ironically populated by multizillion pound flats, but moving on..) who struggled for survival and lacked basic sanitation. As the area was built haphazardly on damp marshland (this was before the embankment of the Thames) there were no standpipes for water and the folks had no choice but to obtain their drinking water directly from the Thames. And we’ll leave it up to you to imagine what kinds of matter were deposited in the river at the time.
The Thames was the source of contagion when cholera struck Lambeth in October, 1848, resulting in the death of almost 2000 local men, women and children. At the time it was believed that cholera was transmitted through the air in foul smells, and foul smells were abundant in this industrial wasteland. Our patch of Lambeth was one of the first places studied by pioneering epidemiologist John Snow (no, not that one) who, after seeing people dipping pails into the river for drinking water, began his path to discovering that cholera was a water borne illness. Proof that science can prevail in times of darkness.
Of the people who perished, many were buried in unmarked graves in the cemetery of St. Mary’s church (now the Gardening Museum). The graveyard is now Old Paradise Park and is a little gem of solitude behind the high rises. On your daily and now unlimited walk stop to notice the headstones of the many residents of Lambeth who were contemporaries of those 2000 who perished, but who had a more dignified send off. And in the middle of Paradise Gardens you’ll encounter a solitary standpipe, which acts as a fitting monument to those buried beneath it.
Richard Cuming, the most curious man in Kennington
In the 55 years that have elapsed since the middle of March, we’ve starting undertaking socially distanced walks around Greater Kennington. It was during one of these walks that we became more familiar with a true Kennington original and maybe the progenitor of all the Kennington eccentrics who have come after him; Richard Cuming.
Richard was raised in Walworth Road (intersection of Manor Place, now a McDonalds) in 1777. and it was here that his aunt and other family members sparked his curiosity for collecting all things unusual by giving him fossils, old coins, Indian arrowheads, and other ephemera which were easily available at the time, In adulthood Richard moved to 63 Kennington Road (below) and his collection grew to include items as varied as stuffed animals, ceramics, harpoons, footwear, and even early sunglasses. Unlike many gentlemen collectors of his era, Richard never actually left the UK but was given these items or picked them up in markets around London.
Richard’s collection in Kennington Road eventually grew to include over 25,000 objects and he was happy to show off his curiosities to as many people a possible. The home was a haven for collectors, scientists, historians, and any passing Kenningtonian who shared his passion for all things unusual. The passion was passed on to his son Henry who, after his father’s death in 1870, moved the collection in a more populist direction by collecting objects that revealed the ordinary lives of south Londoners from rail tickets to cheap toys and good luck charms
When Henry Cuming died in 1902 he bequeathed the collection to what was to become the London Borough of Southwark with the proviso that the collection be exhibited ‘in a suitable and spacious gallery or apartments in connection with Newington Public Library’. This wish was realised when the Cuming Museum was opened in Walworth Road in 1906. With a few additions from other sources the museum became very popular, a sort of Welcome Collection south of the river. The museum thrived until 2013 when the town hall complex was engulfed in flames and the building gutted.
Luckily, 98% of Richard and Henry’s collection survived the great fire and it is in storage until Southwark figures out what to do with it. But fear not, dear reader, as the collection very much lives on online and its quirky highlights can be found here. Now wash those hands!
A Little History of 20th Century Architecture in Our Realm, Part 1
Ok boys and girls, move your chairs up. We’re about to tell about the recent history of the Duchy of Cornwall Estate in two petite, pop up pieces. The first covers the development of the area in Kennington and Vauxhall from 1890 to 1914; the second covers the era between the wars. For the unaware, the Duchy is one of the titles of the Prince of Wales, which is why you can see his heraldic badge popping up around the area. We’ve included a few pics of what we are writing about the bottom, and we have more on our Instagram page.
The modern history of the Duchy Estate commenced in the 1890’s when many middle class folk were abandoning our area. Kennington had not escaped the exodus of people to greener and cleaner areas in the suburbs, and most of the housing stock had become very run down. The Duchy was concerned about the conditions in which many of our predecessors lived, and a start was made in 1893 to create modern, cleaner tenements. These first edifices were social experiments and still very much exist in Chester Way, the Duchy Arms end of Courtney St, bits of Newburn St, and Kennington Lane among other places.
In 1909, following a tour of housing estates in Germany, Stanley Adshead proposed further development of the Estate as more land became available. His idea was to draw middle class people back to our area, but the Duchy resisted as it felt it had a much more noble obligation to re-house existing tenants, mostly the old and working poor who were living in very substandard conditions. What they agreed on and what we still see today reflect a compromise. The houses on Denny Street (where you can see the German gabled influence of Ashtead’s travels), Cardigan St, and the bottom of Courtney Street were then created not for the destitute, but for older people and working families who deserved something better. A new and revolutionary kind of tenement was also erected, now called Woodstock Court, set around a central courtyard.
In designing some of the homes of this period, Ashtead was influenced by the Georgian houses in Kennington Road, which by that time were well over 100 years old. As an urban neighbourhood he appreciated the scale and feel of being in a town, as opposed to the rustic terraces inspired by Victorians like William Morris, and his small squares remain an influence. One of his last projects was St. Anselm’s Church in Kennington Cross. Work was commenced and then paused in 1914 due to the war, not to be resumed until 1933. You can see the pause in the brickwork about 16 feet on the side of the building. And this, reader, is where our story itself pauses.
In our next atom of archival architecture we will move through the first world war and up to the second, and focus on the estates in Oval and further into Vauxhall.
If you would like some more insight into the Duchy of Cornwall Estate check out this documentary on YouTube. If you have a poor attention span like us scroll to minute 41 where they talk about Kennington, Vauxhall and Oval. You might even see your own home!
Open House London
We love nothing more than sticking our noses where they don’t belong, and what better opportunity to undertake this sniffy task is Open House London weekend, which beckons in a few days (21-22 September).
Open House London is an event which promotes the appreciation of architecture by flinging open the doors of otherwise closed spaces to the public, and is totally free. There are a range of venues open for us to see in Lambeth and Southwark but lets not be precious about our anointed patch of earth; there’s stuff going on around the capital (800 and counting, apparently). Below are links to local things we have seen recently and recommend. Last year we particularly enjoyed a gander around the former Beaufoy Institute in Black Prince Road, which has been turned into a Buddhist centre.
International Maritime Organisation
https://openhouselondon.open-city.org.uk/listings/7730
National Theatre
https://openhouselondon.open-city.org.uk/listings/1172
The Beaufoy (Diamond Way Buddhist Centre)
https://openhouselondon.open-city.org.uk/listings/7275
Kia Oval
https://openhouselondon.open-city.org.uk/listings/7143
Waterloo City Farm
https://openhouselondon.open-city.org.uk/listings/6775
Kirkaldy Testing Works
https://openhouselondon.open-city.org.uk/listings/856
The Old Operating Theatre Museum and Herb Garret
https://openhouselondon.open-city.org.uk/listings/1268
If you have your heart set on seeing the inside of Lambeth Palace don’t get your hopes up as we’ve tried for the better part of 20 years and solving the great pong of Kennington tube is probably more achievable. If you want to have a go at seeing it and other iconic venues (such as 10 Downing Street and Mansion House), bookmark Open House in your diary and apply next summer. Here’s to being nosy!
A Celebration of the Gasholders at Oval
As regular readers to the Runoff are aware, the iconic gasholders at Oval will soon become past tense, with the exception of the possibly least attractive one (Gasholder 1,below, in a photo from 1957) closest to Montford place which will have it’s middle filled in by flats. The others are to be taken down and replaced by mixed use flats and shops constructed by Berkeley homes. This little missive is not to open the Medusa like can of worms that surrounds the judgement of this decision, but rather a celebration of our soon to be extinct wrought iron friends.
Our gasholders are symbols of a bygone age of belching factory chimneys, pea soup fogs and mass manufacturing in London. They stored gas and moved up and down depending on the time of day the gas was needed by industry and residents. When regulators in homes and factories became more robust, however, this became less essential .The paired green gasholders closest to Vauxhall street were erected in 1874 and 1876 in a neo classical style and have Tuscan columns. These would have originally held gas used to service industries at Vauxhall Bridge, and later to homes in Oval, Vauxhall and Kennington. After quite a bit of disagreement in Lambeth these structures were not granted Grade 2 listed status, but given a ‘local listing’, which ultimately sealed their fate.
The iconic Gasholder 1 was constructed in 1877 and at the time was the largest such structure in the world. It was designed by Frank and George Livesey and these two factors, combined with it’s very fortunate location overlooking the cricket ground, saved it’s hollowed and hallowed skin. In a similar note, after being behind hoardings since the dawn of time the sketchy Cricketers pub at the base of the holder seems to now have a new lease on life, risen like the phoenix from the ashes as depicted on our soon to be removed gasholder 4.
Eleanor Coade and the Code of her Stone
We’re going slightly off grid here to take you up to the Kennington suburb of Waterloo. If you’ve ever had the misfortunate of being trapped in a srcum of people trying to make their way into ‘Shrek’s Adventure London’ you might have noticed a remarkably pristine and proud lion on the southern end of Westminster Bridge, guarding the entrance in Lambeth. The lion was created by William Woodington but was cast in a remarkable stone invented by local resident and female pioneer Eleanor Coade and is called ‘The Coadestone Lion’.
Our feline friend was created in 1837 to dangle at the pinnacle of the Lion Brewery. The building was pulled down in 1949 to make way for the Royal Festival Hall and the poor beast then suffered a number of indignities including having a time capsule stuck up his bum, being painted red, and then getting dropped. After a brief stint outside Waterloo station his destiny was preserved at the bridge in 1966 and afterwards he achieved a Grade II listing (talk about hard work). His noble and pristine appearance has endured due to Eleanor’s invention of a highly durable, frost and freeze proof artificial stone, which is actually a kind of ceramic. The formula was created in our backyard by Eleanor at the cusp of the 18thand 19thcentury. Eleanor is said to have taken the formula to her grave when she died in 1821, and it has since been lost.
There were a number of potteries and ceramics factories experimenting with artificial stone in Vauxhall at the time and perhaps Eleanor chose to ply her trade in our area in order to capitalise on the industry. In spite of stiff competition, Coade’s stone proved very popular and was commissioned for use in Buckingham Palace, the National Gallery, and the Royal Opera House. If you would like to see specimens of her craft but are afraid you might turn to stone yourself if you leave greater Kennington, check out Captain Bligh’s tomb at the Gardening Museum, the porch at the main entrance of Brunswick House, or the lovely gargoyles above the windows at 57 South Lambeth Road next to the ‘opposite of lovely’ Travis Perkins. After 1840 her formula was lost and has never been recreated.
Have a nice weekend and enjoy exploring….
