Royal Doulton in Vauxhall

We humans were not built to spend six hours a day on ‘Zoom’ calls (which we are thinking about renaming ‘Co-Vid’ calls) and if you’re working from home it is always good to take a brisk walking break. We recommend having a gander at one of the most striking buildings in our area, the former Royal Doulton Pottery building now known as ‘China Works’.

Royal Doulton was established in Vauxhall Walk but moved to the corner of Black Prince Road and Lambeth High Street where this Gothic wedding cake was erected in 1876. This building is a survivor of a vast Doulton complex which was in use until the 1950’s. The building is cast in red brick with polychromy and an array of terracotta highlights. It was intended as a living advertisement to show off the Doulton product. 

This particular building was used as a museum and art school, and the relief above the door (called a ‘tympanum’, and aren’t we smart) depicts a group of people inspecting some terracotta pots, and a woman with a cat painting one. By the 1870’s Doulton was moving in a more decorative direction with the aid of Lambeth School of Art, which is now City & Guilds of London Art School in Kennington Park Road. It should be noted that almost all of the painting and decorating of the pots was undertaken by women, and was a rare and early example of a skilled craft which women could access. 

The area around the Doulton Factory is about to undergo some very profound and very controversial changes. We don’t make judgements on planning issues on KR but judge for yourself. The building is, thank god, listed and currently occupied by one of those workspace outfits which recently have been popping up like head lice. So our gothic confection is going nowhere, but it might suffer the indignity of having a ‘Franco Manca’ stuck into it one day.

Vauxhall goes Marmite

A picture tells a thousand words #3

The last of our three part mini posts takes us up to Vauxhall. The now rather unprepossessing Westminster Business Square (now the much cooler named Vox Studios) at the corner of Kennington Lane and Durham Street for many years was the London HQ of Marmite.

The Marmite Food Extract Company was formed in 1902 and was based at Burton upon Trent where it had ready access to its main ingredient – a by-product of the brewing process – courtesy of the Bass Brewery. It is still manufactured in the Staffordshire town today.

This ‘Marmite Goes Vegas’ photo was taken in 1951. It closed in 1967. The homeless charity St Mungo’s took on the building for use as one of its first hostels in the 1970s, and now it is one of those flexible workspaces that nobody goes to anymore. It doesn’t look quite as exciting now.

The internet is littered with stories of the smells that came out of the place. People either hated it or loved it (you knew that was coming, right?).

The children of Walnut Tree Place

A picture tells a thousand words #1

If you’re a regular reader then you’ll know that we love old photos of Greater Kennington. We have unearthed three very different photos and over the next three days we will take on little journeys to let you know what they tell us about our community. 

These lovely kiddos were residents of former Walnut Tree Place and the photo was taken in the summer of 1921. If you look closely you can see blackout boards on some of the windows (although obsolete after WW1 ended in 1918). These homes were built during the first half of the 19th century mostly to house the families of people who worked in factories along the Thames. 

Poor housing conditions became a pressing issue after WW1 and these homes were torn down by London County Council not long after this picture was taken. Between 1928 and 1934 the homes were replaced by what is now the China Walk Estate on the south side of Lambeth Road. The buildings were named after renowned China manufacturers. Walnut Tree Place has changed quite a bit in the past 99 years.

That funny house in Kennington Park

You have doubtlessly walked or run by these little brick cottages in Kennington Park a million times, but have you ever stopped to wonder what it is or how it ended up there? Well, dear reader, consider yourselves to be demystified. 

The first clue to our mystery is the inscription ‘Model Houses for Families Erected by HRH Prince Albert’ on the side that faces the street. We doubt that Prince Albert himself took off his ermine lined gloves to build the edifice but with the Prince as patron, it was erected by the ‘Society for Improving the Conditions of the Labouring Classes’ for the Great Exhibition in 1851. The cottage was located outside of the exhibition grounds in Hyde Park and entry was free, unlike the Exhibition itself. After the Exhibition closed, the cottages were moved to our sanctified patch of green and became a minor Victorian tourist attraction.

The model cottages were designed to house four families, with two flats on each level. It was envisioned that the cottages would provide suitable accommodation for people from “the class of mechanical and manufacturing operatives who usually reside in towns or in their immediate vicinity”. Each family was designated a living room, kitchen/scullery, three bedrooms and a toilet – but no bathroom, as was still generally the case in houses built at the time.  What we see in our park was a protoype, and it’s unknown whether any were actually executed. 

Since 2003 the cottages have been inhabited by the wonderful charity ‘Trees for Cities’ so it isn’t open to the public.  However, have a spin around it and contemplate that this one little building was meant to house at least 16 people. It makes you appreciate the era we’re in.    

From workshops to squatters – a social history of the Pullens estate

If you live in Walworth, or just walk through it, you’ve probably noticed a very fine example of Victorian tenement style dwellings in Penton Place. These are the remaining buildings of the Pullens estate. They have a very curious history, boys and girls, and we’re going to tell you about their history of workmen and squatters rights. 

The Pullens estate was made of 684 almost identical one bedroom dwellings with 106 workshops behind (in Clements, Pecock and Illfie Yards, which remain). This was an early version of a live/work space as most of the people worked in the workshops and cobbled streets behind the buildings.  This contrasts with the later Peabody dwellings which just focused on housing families. While the dwellings proved wildly popular, not a great deal is known about the workshops.  

Zoom ahead to the 1977 and, in the eyes of Southwark, the estate was in serious decline and they wanted it demolished. After a high court battle half of the estate was demolished and half remained. The battle emboldened the residents, who formed a tight knit community in order to fend off future threats. To combat this, Southwark decided to stop letting out properties as they became vacant. With the support of the Tenants Association, the properties were given over to squatters who acted as caretakers. During two drawn out legal procedures in the 1980’s over threatened evictions, public interest in the plight of the squatters grew and it gained national attention. 

By 1986 Southwark had enough, and on 10 June the bailiffs moved in to evict the squatters. The residents were prepared, and many barricaded their homes against forced entry. 26 people were evicted, but as the bailiffs did not understand the unique layouts of the buildings, many just shifted their belongings and moved back in again. This became known at the ‘Battle of the Pullens’. Negotiations followed afterwards which led to the squatters being awarded caretakers rights and plans to demolish the rest of the estate were abandoned. The association were also responsible for turning the site of a demolished building into a park. It is now Pullen’s Gardens and a lovely place for a spot of lunch. 

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….

The Victorian Elephant and Castle pub in Vauxhall, 1970. Same building, but now ‘Starbucks’.
The King’s Arms pub, Chester Way and Kennington Lane, 1880. Destroyed in WW2, rebuilt 1946.
The Horns Tavern, Kennington Road and Kennington Park Road., 1910. A local institution damaged in WW2 and never really recovered. That and a dislike of Victorian architecture meant its demise in 1965. Now JobCentre Plus and Nisa Foods.
The Roebuck pub, 1972. Still very much there and known as The Dog House.
The Cricketers pub in the Oval standing proudly on game day, 1957. Closed for aeons, but the building is still there.

The Tankard pub, Kennington Road, 1880. Altered through time, but looking amazingly familiar.
The Vauxhall Tavern, 1950. The RVT had shops on either side of it and a thriving community behind until cleared for Spring Gardens in the late 1960’s.
The Prince of Wales, Cleaver Square, 1973. The only thing different is the cars (and the house prices).

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. 

A headstone of the time of cholera

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.