Building Storeys

Of Hearth and Home

2012-01-04T10:20:00.001Z

Penshurst Place with Central Hearth

I have been thinking about which features of domestic buildings, certainly in England, have had the most impact, not simply on architecture but also on changing society and people’s lives. There are a few candidates; glass in windows, brick replacing timber-framing and cavity-wall insulation to name but three. But I think the prize has to go to the humble fireplace and chimney stack.

I have just completed the history of a timber-framed house in the Weald of Kent. Its origins date back to the late 14th century. It isn’t the oldest building I’ve researched, but very nearly! Despite 700 years of change and alteration, the early days of the building can be most clearly seen in its roof and specifically the blackened king post (now no longer in a supporting role). Despite the house’s three floors and collection of several small rooms within its walls today, this building was once one open hall.

Before fireplaces were introduced into domestic buildings, all living, eating and sleeping took place in the one space. Every person and domestic animal of the household lived around the central hearth. Maybe a mezzanine-type platform, known as a Solar, would have existed at one end of the room on which the master and mistress of the house slept, but everything else was communal on the ground floor and the space open to the roof. This explains the blackening of the 14th century timbers in the Wealden house. The smoke from the fire eventually escaped in various ways, through a hole in the roof or through the joints of unplastered tiles, under the eaves or through an open door or window.

An Early Hooded Fireplace

To find the origin of present day fireplaces we have to go back to Norman times, the 11th and 12th centuries. Their castles and other official strongholds tended to be of two or more storeys so having a fire in the central position was not practical. As a result they would put the fire in a shallow recess under an arch in the side wall of the chamber. The back of the recess sloped upwards and finished with a hole for the smoke to escape through the outside wall. Often there wasn’t a recess for the fire itself but a hood was constructed over the hearth.

Returning to the 14th century Wealden house; despite the presence of a large and imposing stone fireplace on the ground floor and a substantial brick construction on the first floor dating to the 16th century, the stack and hearth are relative newcomers in the story of this house. In the 16th century this was a yeoman’s house, a farmer’s house. So not a place for nobility, but not for peasants either. It was the quintessential rural middle-class home.

16th Century 1st Floor Brick Wealden Fireplace

The chimney was built on what was the eastern exterior wall and of all the changes in the long life of this house, the introduction of a stack and fireplace can be considered the most important. With the introduction of fireplaces at the side of the building, floors and ceilings could be inserted and designated rooms created. With fireplaces in general, significantly it introduced the concept of “Privacy” in normal domestic life. No other architectural development has had such a profound influence on our domestic structures and on how we conduct our lives.

I find this pleasingly ironic as today in the early 21st century we seem to be on a wave of knocking down and knocking through - creating more communal living space.

No Need to Fear Unesco's Threats. It's Time to Celebrate.

2011-12-07T06:49:00.001Z

From the Tower of London Across to The Shard

Image ©Ellen Leslie

The world heritage cultural organisation Unesco is threatening to downgrade the Tower of London in the World Heritage Site rankings and put it on the Heritage in Danger List because of the negative visual impact that the Shard is having on its panorama. The 1,020ft-high Shard, a 66-storey office block next to London Bridge on the south side of the Thames, will be the tallest building in Europe when it is finished.

Apparently such downgrading will affect tourism and put London in a bad light. Something the Department for Culture Media and Sport are keen to avoid – particularly in 2012 when the decision is likely to be made – as it will be at the same time as the Queen’s Diamond Jubilee celebrations and, of course, the Olympics. I think the DCMS should have a little more faith in their own capital city.

Earlier this year I spent a day at the Tower and one of my abiding memories (which I photographed) was the view from the Tower over to the South Bank, where the Shard is being built. My first reaction then, which I still hold firmly today, is that the juxtaposition of these two sites shows what a living breathing, vibrant and vital city London is, was and always will be. 1000 years of history in one panorama. Now, that is something to be proud of!

London is one of the most popular tourist destinations in the world. It doesn’t take a Unesco ranking to determine the footfall here. London is also home to 8 million people, a city of now, that is constantly changing to meet the needs of its citizens – which it has done so for 2000 years. Now, I’m not advocating that any new construction is valid. If modern day developers had their way, the Tower of London site would be a valuable piece of real estate … but London and its planners, should not be afraid of the new rubbing shoulders with the old.

The fact that the city isn’t preserved like a precious family heirloom, with nothing changing, shows that London has a job to do. It has a life to live. It has purpose. Unlike some cities that live on glories past and seem to deny the present, London celebrates both.

Taking My Kew

2011-10-31T07:27:00.000Z

Kew Palace

This weekend, I had the fantastic opportunity to go on a photographic course at Kew Palace, in Richmond. It was run by Historic Royal Palaces and led by photographer Emily Harris. I love taking pictures of architecture, as I hope my Facebook and Flickr pages show, but I was useless at photographing indoors and this course was specifically for learning how to capture historic interiors with a digital SLR camera. We were a select group of 7 and had the small but perfectly formed “Palace” to ourselves as the place is officially closed to the public in the autumn and winter months.

Kew Palace is one of HRP’s more recent restorations. I had the privilege of visiting it half way through the restoration/conservation back in 2006, so it was a pleasure to see the place in a more finished state. Not that it is has been completely returned to resemble a royal residence. While some rooms have been painstakingly decorated and furnished to show how the house may have looked in about 1808, there are whole rooms untouched, with bare floorboards and unfinished walls. These allow you to see how the walls were constructed, layer by layer and give a fleeting look at the earlier, 17^th century fabric of the building behind.

Kew Palace has its origins in the 16^th century, with a Tudor undercroft as testament. It used to be called The Dutch House as it is constructed in the unmistakeable Dutch style and inside is laid out over 3 floors with the undercroft below and servants living quarters in the attic.

The exterior structure we see today was built in the 17^th century, the home of a wealthy merchant and was then converted to be a home for King George III his wife Queen Charlotte and 10 of their 15 children. Spending my day there, I learned that the house was mainly for the children and the Queen. George lived in an extension to the house, long since demolished. This was because George III was the unfortunate monarch who suffered from the disease “Porphyria” which manifested itself mainly in apparent raving madness.

But in his moments of sanity George and his wife were a devoted loving couple, who enjoyed the relative simplicity and small scale living at Kew with their children. Not that it was much fun for 3 of their daughters who lived there; liking its remoteness and their lack of a social life to being in a nunnery!

When one’s abiding passions are historic buildings and photography there isn’t much about an historic interiors photography day at Kew that I could fault. In fact there wasn’t. As a result, I like to think I can now take a mean interior shot and that this’ll translate in the research I prepare for my clients. But above all, my abiding memory will be having such privileged access for a whole day in one of Historic Royal Palace’s most beautiful and remarkable buildings.

Some of the photographs I took from the day will be posted on the Historic Buildings Research Facebook page and on my Flickr page too.

Recording the New: The Architectural Photography of Bedford Lemere & Co. 1870-1930

2011-10-12T10:25:00.002+01:00

The Victoria & Albert Museum Entrance Under Construction in 1908 (Sir Aston Webb)

If you find yourself in London between now and the end of the month I recommend a visit to the Victoria and Albert Museum for the last days of an exhibition co-curated by the Royal Institute of British Architecture (RIBA) and English Heritage, showing the work of the architectural photography firm Bedford Lemere & Co.

In my work I am always pleased if the photographs of Bedford Lemere come up on my search radar. The amount of information I can extract from one image is invaluable, whether it’s comparing changes in the external appearance of the building with the structure today or seeing how the house was decorated or furnished over 100 years ago.

43 Harrington Gardens circa 1897

At the company’s height it only employed a maximum of four photographers but photographed the work of many leading architects of the Victorian and Edwardian period. Bedford Lemere‘s sharp definition greatly appealed to their clients – architects, contractors and building owners – who above all wished to obtain an almost documentary record of the work they had carried out or commissioned.

Photographer, Bedford Lemere established his commercial photography business in the 1860s and he, his son Harry and the company became famous for their architectural images. The firm continued into the 1940s and English Heritage and the RIBA now own a huge collection of their work numbering over 8,000 images originally photographed on 12” x 10” plates.

The external images stand out from contemporaries because apparently Bedford Lemere worked to a set formula that involved photographing buildings first thing in the morning with the crisp early light and with very few people around. The clarity and detail achieved was remarkable and sometimes it is possible to think that it was taken only yesterday. It is only the lack of cars or satellite dishes or the absence of modern furnishing that tells you otherwise.

Midland Grand Hotel 1890s

How Old Is My House?

2011-09-12T09:46:00.000+01:00

When people want to find out the history of their house the two most popular lines of enquiry are; who lived there and how old is it? But before you can start to discover the occupants of a house, the date of construction is fundamental to understanding its past.

opyright Ellen Leslie

Finding out the age of a building can take you down many paths. The most obvious clue is if there is a date on the building. But don’t let that fool you. Last year I researched a house with 1566 displayed prominently above the front door. But in fact, that date marked the year the house had been extended. The building’s origins went back to 1450.

When working out the date of construction, start by looking at the building itself. What is the style? Does it ooze Victorian Gothic or display Georgian symmetrical restraint? How big are the windows? The smaller the panes of glass the chances are the building is earlier rather than later. I also strongly recommend the book “Period House Fixtures & Fittings 1300-1900” by Linda Hall (published by Countryside Books). It is a fantastic reference source for dating architectural features inside and out! But the features themselves don’t tell the whole story. A building can be altered adapted many times over the centuries.

So to continue your search, you should also speak to the local history society who would know more than anyone in the area how long the building has been standing. A local historian may have also written about the street or area in which you live.

When I am researching buildings I always combine a site inspection with documentary evidence to support what I have seen. If you have a hunch that your building is late 19th or early 20th century, go and have a look at the census returns that are available through your local archive. These could tell you not only if the building existed at all at the ten year intervals between 1841 and 1911 but also if it was occupied or even under construction. Local archives also hold collections of photographs that may include your house, narrowing down the possible date even more.

You can check other general records like poor rate books or parish records for reference to your house or street. However, one of the most useful tools for determining the age of your house has to be maps. Maps prior to 1800 can involve a little artistic licence, but they are good indicators and certainly from the beginning of the 19^th century with the influence of the Ordnance Survey, maps of many styles and types can work as a guide to locating and confirming, if not the year, a narrower time frame in which your house was built.

Of course, if your house is obviously older than 1800; if the timber frame and king post in the roof suggests 16^th or even 15^th century then it is possible that manorial records can shed some light on its origins.

The older your house the more alterations and additions it would have undergone. I recently researched a building with structural elements surviving from the 15^th century, but with extensions and alterations in every century, right up to the 21^st. It can be a complicated process but documentary evidence can shed light on these changes.

If your house is listed, check the date in the listing description. A word of warning though; these descriptions are merely a guide and cannot be seen as 100 per cent reliable. Two listed buildings I recently researched were woefully wrong. In one case it was wrong by nearly 200 years! You could also check the title deeds of your house. However, unless you manage to locate the early version, modern day Land Registry records rarely go back further than 50 years.

The method of dating, like all other research into the history of a building, always requires a mixture of examining the bricks and mortar (or wattle and daub) and documentary evidence. One supports the other; and if you combine all these methods and sources, you should be successful in finding out how old your house is.

This article by Ellen Leslie first appeared on www.countrylife.co.uk 19 Aug 2011 as part of the Projectbook Blog Series.

Lavender Hill Mob Rule

2011-08-10T14:34:00.000+01:00

The history of south London may stretch back to pre-Roman times, but it was during the Victorian period that London, and significantly the city south of the Thames, expanded, with the development of the railways and the unprecedented building boom. Today this part of town can be architecturally defined by rows of terraced houses constructed in soft yellow London stock or warm red brick dating from the 1860s to the 1910s. South London has its more “choice” areas, but what saves it, in my opinion, is the stylish and well-built Victorian architecture.

An important area south of the river is Clapham Junction. This is the busiest railway station in the UK. It is also surrounded by 19^th and early 20^th century developments that consequently grew up around this strategic location. Clunking great railway stations may not be your idea of beauty, but I have to admit I love our industrial built heritage.

The station is on one corner of a cross roads linking the bustling Lavender Hill and St John’s Hill with St John’s and Falcon Roads. These streets are full of shops, pubs and restaurants interspersed with residential flats and houses and virtually all the buildings are Victorian.

So I watched the news on Monday evening through my fingers, seeing this area under attack from the looters and arsonists. At the time I prayed that the Debenhams department store – otherwise known as the Arding and Hobbs building (built by James Gibson in 1910) would not be torched. It is an iconic building in the area and one that ironically replaced an earlier building that had burned down. My prayers were heard but I forgot to also ask for the range of buildings across the road to be saved from the mob on Lavender Hill.

"Arding & Hobbs" Lavender Hill

242-272 Lavender Hill

242-272 Lavender Hill is a striking range of mainly of 4 storey Victorian Gothic buildings that scale the incline of Lavender Hill. There is a similar range reflected on nearby St John’s Road. The first and second floors unusually are three windows across. Most pleasing on the first floor are the decorative stone tympana above the glazing. Look above the modern shop fronts and you can see their beauty.

I hope 270 Lavender Hill, the building that was set alight can be returned to some semblance of former glory. I know we have the skills and craftsmen in this country to do so. Whether the money is there to do so is another matter.

But as a final thought, I find it ironic that these buildings stood through two world wars, IRA bombs and urban wear and tear relatively unscathed …. until this week.

A Flaming Red Herring!

2011-06-17T00:56:00.000+01:00

I have just finished researching an 18^th century house on the river Thames, near Richmond. The house has a long and fascinating history that I hope to write about in more detail one day in Building Storeys. But right now, the story of this elegant double-fronted riverside house is for the owners’ eyes only. However, there was one aspect of the house which I feel I can share with you.

Set in the centre of the wall, above the front door, is an intriguing fire plaque. These plaques were displayed outside houses as evidence that the building was insured in the event of a fire. Fire brigades would only come to the aid of insured houses; so if you didn’t display a plaque, you could say you were toast, or even that your goose was cooked! The fire brigade would leave your building to burn and you’d feel gutted!

In the case of the house by the river, this plaque is of a portcullis and the Prince of Wales feathers. Research revealed that it was the symbol of The London Fire Office, an insurance company that covered thousands of homes in and around London from the late 18^th century to the beginning of the 20^th century. I also found that in 1906 the company was bought by Sun Alliance and that information about individual policies can be found at The Guildhall Library, in the City of London. I was convinced that one quick trip up there could open up a whole new line of research and information about the house. However, a researcher's hunch then told me otherwise.

When researching the history of a building it is very easy to get carried away and take everything at face value. You want something to be true so much that you forget about the ever-present likelihood of a red herring. For instance; that date displayed on the front of the house … is that really the date of construction or merely when they refurbished the building? Those neo-gothic windows – do they really date to 1815 or are they later reproductions? Is that 17^th century panelling original to the room or recycled from somewhere else? That fire plaque – was it always with the house?

In the case of the house by the river, just before I set off for the City of London, I double checked all the photographs and drawings I had found of the house dating back to the 18th century. To my disappointment, no plaque was visible in the images until the late 1970s. Although a genuine plaque it had not originated with the building.

But that doesn't mean the London Fire Office plaque doesn’t have its own significance and place in history. Does the original house still exist and more to the point, was the fire insurance ever needed? I'll save that for my next visit Guildhall visit and come back and tell you.

Memories Taking Their Toll?

2011-04-16T07:45:00.001+01:00

I was visiting my granny the other day. She’s 89 and lives in sheltered accommodation in deepest, leafiest Sussex. A fellow “in-mate” and my granny’s great friend, Dolores, dropped by when I was there. She is a very elegant lady well into her 90s who had just returned from a trip to London with her daughter and son-in-law. She seemed upset and after a little pressing by my granny, she revealed she had been effectively told that she was losing her marbles by her daughter’s husband and as a result she was starting to doubt herself as well. Dolores may be 94 in the shade but losing her mental faculties was something no one was expecting.

On her trip to London they had driven over the Thames via Chelsea Bridge. It simply connects the Battersea Power Station area of south London and the elegant grounds of the 17^th century Royal Hospital, where the Chelsea Flower Show is held every year.

It would appear that when in the car Dolores had recalled how, when she was a little girl, there used to be domed houses or kiosks on either end of the bridge. Chelsea Bridge sports nothing like this. It is a very simple suspension bridge with the only structure looking anything like a kiosk being a shabby greasy spoon trailer on the south end of the bridge. In short, Dolores’ son-in-law had snorted at what he thought was her fading memory and that she was getting confused with the little wooden toll huts on Albert Bridge further along the river. Nothing more was said. Dolores was sure she was right but spent the rest of the day quietly wondering if she had been confused and those little houses had never been there.

I felt so sorry for her and thought that at least I might be able to put her worried mind at rest. It didn’t take long. When I returned home I rifled through my library of architecture and books on London's history and very quickly found the answer.

The current, simple suspension design of Chelsea Bridge was created in 1934 by LCC architects G Topham Forrest and E P Wheeler and completed in 1937. But before that, the old Chelsea Bridge or Victoria Bridge as it was known when it was opened in 1858 was a very different beast. Designed by civil engineer Thomas Page (1803-1877), it was a toll bridge and on either side of the bridge were beautiful domed toll booths. There was nothing wrong with Dolores’ memory!

I took great satisfaction sending a picture to my granny for her to pass on to her friend. I just wish I had been there when she showed her son-in-law.

Census Working Over Time

2011-03-13T09:27:00.005Z

Victorian Family Scene (BBC History)

On 27^th March this year, the UK has another census. It has brought me to think about the role past census returns play in my line of work. Although the 1911 census has been technically available to view for the last two years, census returns usually take 100 years to be made available to the general public. They tell us not only who lived in a particular house on census night, but their ages, what their occupations were, where were they born, some even state what disabilities an individual had. When you are researching your family tree, such information is extremely useful and eye-opening. But if the census is primarily to record the people, how on earth could it help someone research a building?

Although the census has been with us in the UK since 1801, it is only widely available from 1841 and certainly 1851-1911, in ten year intervals, are the crucial years. If I am researching a building, I will find out not only who lived there, but how many were under one roof (did they live in cramped conditions, how were the rooms designated/configured?). The returns will also tell me what the building was used for (private home, boarding house, workshop?) which might help explain certain features still existing in the house (for instance hanging hooks, cellar access, ceiling heights, blocked up doorways and changes in the architrave). Changes in occupants can also indicate alterations to the building as the new owners refurbished and redecorated their “new” home. I always use changes in ownership to give me an indication of structural changes.

Census Return

If I am trying to confirm the year a building was built, I refer to the census. It can tell me if a building was occupied or not or whether it was still under construction. A good example of a past research assignment is a row of townhouses in Kensington. Other findings told me that the houses were completed in the early 1870s but the developers had had great difficulty selling the leases. As a result many of their construction craftsmen occupied the houses instead. The 1871 census confirmed this with carpenters, joiners, bricklayers and labourers recorded as resident in these grand, stuccoed houses, built for the gentry.

Victorian Builders (English Heritage NMR)

It can be quite frustrating sometimes if the return shows only the servants were in on the night of the census. I wish of course, that such information was available more frequently - 10 years is a huge gap when researching the evolution of a building. But archive records by their nature are sporadic and incomplete. There's always been a degree of luck involved. There is no absolute rule about what information should be kept or not … but at lease I can rely on the census, every 10 years.

Dereliction of Duty

2011-01-11T11:48:00.001Z

My speciality is British architecture, but that doesn’t mean that interest stops at the lapping shores of the English Channel. British architecture can be found all over the world.

I was recently on Malta. It was here that the British military was strategically posted for nearly 150 years. Britain acquired it from the French at the Treaty Paris in 1814. The British only left in 1979.

Located in the centre of Malta is the small town of Mtarfa, close to Rabat and Mdina. It was here in 1890 that the British military medical facilities were centralised.

The old military hospital at Mtarfa - now a secondary school

The main hospital building, commissioned in 1912, was officially opened on the 29th June 1920. However, it was in full use during World War I. The hospital treated the allied casualties from Gallipoli. During World War II, the Mtarfa Hospital and barracks were reorganized as the 90th General Hospital and developed to house about 1200 beds. At the ends of hostilities, the 90th General Hospital was disbanded and reformed on peacetime footing as the David Bruce Military Hospital.

The main building is now a secondary school but the Sisters House (where the nurses lived) and the Isolation Block – although listed and apparently protected by the Maltese authorities - are derelict and facing a gloomy future.

The Sisters House - Mtarfa

No protection from the elements

I went around these buildings. They’re built from the ubiquitous maltese sandstone that makes the island and dominates the construction of the historic as well as modern buildings. One key feature of this stone is the rapid effects of wind erosion – so stone replacement is a common and easy method of maintaining the buildings.

The Isolation Block at Mtarfa

However, the auxiliary hospital buildings at Mtarfa have bigger worries than a little wind erosion. Fundamentally there is nothing wrong with these buildings. They have been solidly and beautifully built and could be brought back to working use or become desirable residential properties. But the windows have gone as well as the roofs. Vandals have taken a torch to the isolation block and while modern developments are constructed around these buildings – nothing has been done to at least arrest the old buildings' decay.

Damage and Decay - Isolation Block - Mtarfa

The redevelopment of the old barracks at Mtarfa shows that such conversions can be done successfully. These are now apartments for local people and are in a very good state of maintenance. See below:

Old Barracks at Mtarfa - converted into family homes

Heritage and historic buildings are amongst the first to come off the Priority List during a recession. In addition, there are 65,000 newly constructed residences lying empty on Malta, so a demand for converting historic properties for a renewed purpose does not exist on the island. Before the recession came, the Mtarfa Planning Authority had ear-marked the buildings for redevelopment. We can only hope this does happen - before the buildings are beyond saving.

Isolation Block - Mtarfa

The Work of A Buildings Historian

2010-11-28T20:47:00.001Z

Park Street, Mayfair 1901 (Survey of London)

I came to researching historic buildings by accident. All I knew was that I wanted to work with old buildings and play a part in their conservation. I had always loved history; I had always been interested in old buildings and always enjoyed the process of research. But it was only when I studied for a post-graduate in building conservation at the Architectural Association that I realised that there could be a career incorporating all these elements.

I started at the deep end, researching buildings for a firm of conservation architects. I was and am ostensibly an historian but my post-graduate in building conservation gave me that depth of knowledge required by architectural professionals.

Today my clients include architects, property developers, planning consultants as well as private home owners. The latter call on my services for many reasons; mostly just to find out the story of their house, but at other times it is to support a planning application or help settle a boundary dispute.

A house historian will look at dates, people and any stories surrounding the house and occupants. In my work, I also look at what was on the site before construction, who built it, how was it constructed, for whom and why? What was the building used for, what alterations had been made in the decades / centuries since construction? I scrutinise architects’ plans, identify alterations and piece together how the building has evolved. This kind of research aids the restoration, conservation and building process. For instance it can determine the historical importance and relevance of architectural features and whether they can or cannot be altered or removed. Particularly if a building is listed, an in depth knowledge of the building’s fabric is crucial.

One example of my work involved a house in St John’s Wood that had been lived in by a famous artist in the 19th century. It was assumed he had designed it himself and had had the entire building built in 1888. However, my research involving visual inspection and later documentary searches revealed the grand late Victorian house was built partially around a more humble but equally fascinating structure dating to 1825. The conservation / architectural result was that the intended extension had to be modified but in the end the owner achieved what he wanted without disturbing the earlier fabric of the building.

Another example was, a homeowner who had purchased a listed house in Cumberland Terrace in Regent’s Park, built in 1828 and wanted a swimming pool dug in the basement. The opinion was that the listed status was mainly for its external structure and appearance and that the house had been heavily altered internally and therefore the pool should be permitted. However, research revealed the basement floor to be virtually untouched since the late Georgian period and so the owner had to rethink his pool plans. My work is balanced between wanting to conserve the historic fabric of buildings and trying to achieve what the client wants. Ultimately, though, I can only report the facts and from that decisions can be made.

Cumberland Terrace 1938 (Survey of London)

While I work all over the country, I have often been asked to research a Georgian or Victorian townhouse in Belgravia or Mayfair with a view to converting the building back into a single residence (having been converted into flats in the 1950s). In these instances, I would be required to find out the original layout of the building in order to reinstate the plan form, its walls, doorways, windows and sometimes floor levels.

When I research the history of a house I begin by inspecting the premises and getting a feel for the structure. I will then source information at local libraries and archives e.g. maps, parish records, manorial records, electoral rolls, census returns and archived photographs of the building site or area. Depending on the building, a visit to the National Archives at Kew may be needed. In the case of an in depth architectural search, I always visit the Royal Institute of British Architects Library as well.

From these example sources, and many others I call on, I can build and write a history of the building, for the architects or owners. I often liken it to doing a jigsaw puzzle (but without a picture to guide you). Each piece is important, but it is only when you put them all together that the full historical picture of the house is finally revealed.

(This blog first appeared on http://www.francoisemurat.com)

Dead Interesting Building!

2010-10-28T14:20:00.024+01:00

The Station Today

In honour of Halloween, I thought the following building may prove appropriate!

In London - if you drive down Westminster Bridge Road - on the south side of the river Thames, near Waterloo Station, you will pass an ornate but unremarkable Victorian building that may not encourage a second glance. But this red brick, terracotta and granite Grade II building had a remarkable purpose. It was once a necropolis railway station.

In mid 19th century London burial space was becoming scarce. In response to this grim demand, 1854 the London Necropolis Company opened a cemetery at Brookwood, in Surrey. Together with the London and South West Railway company they ran funeral trains between London and Brookwood carrying both coffins and mourners.

The LSWR line was used for most of the journey but at both ends of the route the Necropolis Company had their own sections of lines and their own stations. The London terminus was on York Street (now Leake Street), next to Waterloo station. When the LSWR needed this land for development in 1902, a new Necropolis terminus was built at 121 Westminster Bridge Road. The design is credited to Cyril B Tubbs, general manager of the Necropolis Company, and a Mr Andrews, engineer, of the London and South West Railway.

Despite the new building, though, the use of the service from London to Brookwood steadily declined in that first half of the 20th century. Slowly the cemetery line fell into disuse, not helped by the railway lines serving the station in London being heavily bombed in 1941. It never recovered from that attack. The building didn't close though. It continued as offices for the London Necropolis Company until the 1970s.

1941: Bomb Damage Behind the Necropolis Station

So next time you find yourself in London, south of the river heading into town – give this building a little thought, solemnly standing there as if waiting for a train .....

10 Trinity Square and Sir Edwin Cooper - Civic Pride

2010-10-14T21:00:00.000+01:00

10 Trinity Square

Last month it was confirmed that the 490,000 sq ft 10 Trinity Square in the City of London was ear-marked for redevelopment into a hotel, spa and flats. The building is located on a diagonal plot on Tower Hill, overlooking the Tower of London and the Thames. Designed as the headquarters of the Port of London Authority by the architect Sir Edwin Cooper, the building was opened by the then Prime Minister Lloyd George in 1922. This iconic building’s finest hour was when it housed the reception for the inaugural meeting of the General Assembly of the United Nations in 1946.

It is without question a truly striking building in the Beaux Arts style. The elements of this style of architecture can include; an imposing grand stairway, large arched openings, a variety of stone finishes, monumental columns, a classical ornamental entablature topped with a tall parapet, a balustrade or attic storey, a pronounced cornice and decorative swags, medallions, cartouches, and sculptures.

Sir Edwin Cooper

Initially I was horrified to hear that the redevelopment plan for 10 Trinity Square was to completely replace the rotunda that dominates the centre of the building, leaving only the facade (which I personally see as a lazy and ill-informed attempt to preserve the historic environment).

However, further research has revealed that due to significant bomb damage during World War II, the rotunda is in fact a post-war replacement and essentially it is only the exterior of this building that can be credited to Cooper. But not only is the building something of note – so is Sir Edwin Cooper. I researched one his other landmark buildings a couple of years ago – The Council House (otherwise known as Marylebone Town Hall) on the Marylebone Road, in London. In my opinion his architectural legacy is over-looked in the 21st century.

Marylebone Town Hall

Sir Edwin Cooper was born in Yorkshire in 1873. He studied architecture in Britain as well as France and Italy and was in professional practice from the 1890s. He became a Fellow of the Royal Institute of British Architects (RIBA) in 1903 and was knighted in 1923. In 1931 he received the Royal Gold Medal from the RIBA.

It has been said that Sir Edwin Cooper designed more buildings in the City of London than Sir Christopher Wren a few among them including the Old Lloyd’s Building in Leadenhall Street, No 1 Princes Street and No 40 St May’s Axe.

No 1 Princes Street

He was also the architect of the Royal Star and Garter Home in Richmond, Surrey, the Kingston-upon-Hull Guildhall and Law Court, The South London Hospital for Women (opposite Clapham South Tube Station), Devonport House, Greenwich and St Hilda’s College Oxford. As you can see, his reputation was in civic and public buildings. If his renown had extended to private residences he could well have been celebrated today as readily as his contemporary, another Sir Edwin – Sir Edwin Lutyens.

In 1937 he succeeded Lutyens as President of the Incorporated Association of Architects and Surveyors. The irony with such an impressive career record was that he was unable to describe himself as a registered architect owing to his refusal to pay the annual subscription of 6 shillings and 9 pence to the Architects Registration Council. Sir Edwin Cooper died suddenly “with his boots on” in his office in June 1942.

So while only the facade of 10 Trinity House is to be retained. It would appear we weren't meant to have it in its original entirety anyway. And at least we will continue to see Cooper's amazing Beaux Arts facade in the years to come, when the building has been given renewed purpose.

The Blitz - Researching the Damage Today

2010-09-08T00:11:00.073+01:00

The 70^th anniversary of the beginning of the Blitz in London has reminded me what I have seen in my research of the city over the past few years. One of the key aspects of my work as an historian is the impact, literally, of World War II on buildings in the capital. No research into the history of a house or area can be complete without checking if there had been any damage sustained between 1939 and 1945. Most of the local borough archives hold records of “enemy action”.

Some of these archives hold the original, hand scrawled reports, written by air raid wardens at the time; of the death and devastation as it happened and which streets had been hit, how many people were injured and how many were dead. I remember particularly searching the Tower Hamlets archive in Poplar and seeing these reports, noting hundreds of dead, one street after another. Even from my safe position nearly 70 years later in the peace and calm of an archive, I shivered at the horrible reality of what these people went through.

The most revealing source of information which I use for every research assignment in the capital is the series of London County Council Bomb Damage maps (held at the London Metropolitan Archives). These were commissioned to detail the extent and nature of bomb damage across London. Each building that sustained damage was coloured depending on the severity of impact.

Key:

Black - Total destruction
Purple - Damage beyond repair
Dark Red - Seriously damaged, doubtful if repairable
Light Red - Seriously damaged, repairable at cost
Orange - General blast damage, minor in nature
Yellow - Blast damage, minor in nature

The map here shows the centre of the City of London. You can see the swath of purple denoting “Damage Beyond Repair”. It is impossible to think of such total destruction happening today, but it happened within living memory. If you get the chance to view the complete map collection in the London Metropolitan Archives, have a look at Stepney and the Mile End Road. That isn’t coloured purple, it’s black and covers acres of small back to back houses where ordinary working people were killed in their thousands.

I am often moved by the stories that emerge through my research. Cold official documents can reveal the human side of love and loss, triumph and disaster – but nothing achieves that more for me than the records and maps of 1939-1945.

A Home Fit for Heroes (and Pirates)

2010-09-02T13:34:00.000+01:00

A few months ago I researched the history of Hammonds Place for a client. I have written an article about my findings in the current edition of "Listed Heritage" the magazine of the Listed Property Owners Club. Here in Building Storeys is an abridged version of that article. I hope you find it interesting.

Hammonds Place, in Burgess Hill, Sussex, was described by Nikolaus Pevsner in his book Buildings of England, as “The Best Building in Burgess Hill”.

The untold story of Hammonds Place was scattered far and wide, in the form of maps, deeds, letters, drawings and photographs. My research took me to both the West and East Sussex Archives, local government records and libraries, as well as the Royal Institute of British Architects Library, the National Archives and the National Monuments Record in Swindon. Using these sources, combined with a personal inspection of the house and grounds, I was able to bring the full story of Hammonds Place together for the first time.

Hammonds Place was built in the 1400s as a hall house on a north-south axis. It was virtually rebuilt in about 1500 on a west-east axis, retaining some elements of the original hall, creating a larger timber-framed structure.

By 1566 the house was in the possession of the Michelbornes, an influential and well-to-do local family. The Michelbornes made some extensive home improvements to “Hamonds”. They added to the timber-framed structure three further additions in brick, to the east, south and west, to create a fashionable Elizabethan quadrangle. The house became a manor house befitting an estate of over 200 acres.

During the house’s Elizabethan heyday, its owner Edward Michelborne was knighted by Queen Elizabeth I and was one of the founders of the East India Company. It was only when Sir Edward was accused of abusing his position by carrying out acts of piracy in the Pacific that his star waned. He was forced to leave Court and he retreated to Hammonds Place to live out the last years of his life.

My research found that the Michelborne family was associated with Hammonds Place until the 18^th century and by the 1780s the house was considered to be one of the finest in the county and was drawn by the notable artist and engraver Samuel Hieronymous Grimm (see picture below).

By the 1820s the new owner, Robert Podmore, decided to build a new manor house on the estate called Clayton Priory, just south of Hammonds Place. It is thought that bricks and other materials were taken from Hammonds to help with the new construction and subsequently the old manor house fell into disrepair. It was occupied by tenant farmers during the latter half of the 19^th century, but it wasn’t until the 1890s that a new tenant restored and repaired the house adding a contemporary extension to the 16^thcentury timber-frame and brickwork. My research revealed this tenant to be Thomas Arrowsmith Meautys, a local JP, who is remembered locally for the fact that he lost all three of his sons in World War I. The house bears a small memorial to them on the wall of the 16^th century porch of the house.

By1933 the Dutch Ambassador, Jonkeer Marinus Van Der Goes had taken a lease on the house, following extensive improvements in 1930. He lived at the house for about 5 years. In 1930 this part-medieval, part-Elizabethan, part-Victorian house was augmented with an Art Deco single-storey extension. The house is an unusual combination of eras but one that it seems to have grown into with ease.

Today Hammonds Place is no longer the manor house of a 200 acre estate. Over the centuries plots of land have been sold or reapportioned and now the house and gardens are a virtual island in a sea of 20^th and 21^st century developments. But it is a fine and beautiful building and it acts as an echo of times past, as every historic building does.

Ebullient Edwardian Baroque on a Roll!

2010-08-17T08:27:00.001+01:00

One of the most fascinating buildings I have researched this year has been the London Road Fire Station, in central Manchester. The building is a rare Grade II* example described in its listing description as “Ebullient Edwardian Baroque”. In recent years this beautiful building has been sadly neglected but is now seeing a new future, hopefully as an hotel. A great deal of restoration is required, but a significant amount of its original exterior and interior features are still in situ and will be retained.

The building, completed in 1906, was the design of architects John Henry Woodhouse, George Harry Willoughby and John Langham of Manchester. It set the standard for quality of building design and technological innovation in fire stations around the world. In addition, one of the most eye-catching features of the building are the beautiful Art Nouveau sculptures that adorn the exterior. These are by the artist John Jarvis Millson and if it wasn’t for the technology setting this building apart, then the sculptures and reliefs certainly would.

The construction took two years and by early September 1906 forty men, thirteen horses and six engines had moved in. But it didn’t just serve the firemen, it was also home to their wives and children. The building incorporated a laundry, gymnasium, billiard room and children’s playroom. Flats were provided for thirty-two firemen and their families and for six single men. The Chief and Second Officers were provided with lavish accommodation too. Electric bells and lights in the flats alerted the men in case of a turnout and they were able to reach the engine house by means of poles which lead directly from the flats above.

The fire station served as the headquarters for Manchester’s Fire Brigades in the first half of the 20^th century. It also accommodated a bank, police station and coroner’s court. It finally closed all civic functions in the late 1990s. But in its heyday it was considered by its first chief officer to be “The Finest Fire Station in This Round World”.

Simply Red House

2010-07-27T07:37:00.003+01:00

One of my enduring passions is the architecture and designs of the English Arts and Crafts Movement. Feeding this fascination, I visited Red House last week. This is one of the finest examples of Arts and Crafts homes in Britain and certainly one of the oldest.

Built between 1858 and 1860 by Phillip Webb for the celebrated artist and designer William Morris it emerged during the height of the popularity for Pugin/Gothic that was the prevailing architectural style of the time.

The house is in Bexleyheath in Kent and is today surrounded on all sides by 20^th century suburbia but the gardens of the house are still substantial and the plan and plantings are little altered since Morris, his wife Jane and his friends Dante-Gabriel Rossetti, Elizabeth Siddal and Edward Burne-Jones frequented the house. It was Burne-Jones who described the house as “the beautifullest place on earth”.

The house is an outstanding example of Arts & Crafts. Although currently sparsely furnished (it does not have examples of Morris’s famous fabric and wallpaper designs) it is the architectural detail, the decorated elements; the ceilings, murals, handcrafted stairs, stained glass and doors that make this building so special. There is an air of the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood’s decorative style too and the ubiquitous hand-crafted “one off”, not mass-produced detail.

The design by Phillip Webb tries to show a house older than it is – that has been altered and extended over time, to have organically grown, while in reality it is one construction.

The house recently came under the care of the National Trust but on a day to day basis cared for by the Friends of Red House. These people are all highly knowledgeable about Morris and the Arts and Crafts movement. If you visit, any question you may have about the house will be answered with a depth of knowledge only possible from true enthusiasts.

Strawberry Hill Forever

2010-07-15T06:59:00.001+01:00

I received an email yesterday from my old building conservation tutor at the Architectural Association. It was a call to students present and past to come to the aid of one of this country's finest houses, Strawberry Hill.

The restoration of Strawberry Hill in Twickenham, the beautiful neo-gothic mid-18th century castle built by Horace Walpole, is nearly finished. It opens again to the public on Walpole's birthday 24th September. But before then there is still a lot to do to get the place ready in time.

I checked it out a little more and I found this link for the Friends of Strawberry Hill http://www.friendsofstrawberryhill.org/ who are coordinating voluntary help. So, want to get your hands dirty? Want to help out with one of the most deserving and important restoration projects this side of the decade? Give them a call.

Update After A Long Gap

2010-07-08T06:51:00.001+01:00

Apologies for not blogging for so long. The research into the C15th house in West Sussex went so well, I have been asked to write an article about it for Listed Heritage magazine. I will post a link to it when it comes out. All under wraps until then!

In the mean time, my work has taken me far and wide across the country researching a C17th barn in Hertfordshire, an Edwardian fire station in Manchester, a high Victorian 20,000 sq ft pile in Hampstead – complete with its own art gallery wing and a Brigadier General’s house on Woolwich Common dating to the late C18th. The image is of the house in Woolwich, taken in 1863.

My current “hot” assignments are both in London and also both in Westminster. Two mid-Victorian stucco town houses with complicated planning and alteration histories that need unravelling, before the conservation architects can start work. It isn’t the most exciting end of my work – but it is the bread and butter of what I do. I have worked on more houses of this type than any other.

More anon.

Building Mystery

2010-04-09T08:49:00.001+01:00

I’m researching a 15^th century house in West Sussex. So right now I am in Chichester at the West Sussex Record office. The timber-framed building has all the evidence of having been a medieval hall but with a “modern” extension ie 16^th century in limestone.

The records have revealed an estate map of 1783 which shows the building at its height with a limestone quadrangle, which is now sadly reduced to 2 sides. Victorian maps show it greatly reduced.

Now I have to find who lived there before 1566 and therefore when the oldest part of the building was constructed. But I also need to find out why most of the Elizabethan stone extension disappeared in the early 19^th century.

I'll keep you posted!

The Black Act of 1774

2010-02-03T14:29:00.007Z

I blog for anyone who is interested in old houses, looking after them or researching their history. Knowing and understanding the history of building in Britain goes hand in hand with that. It is the backdrop to the history of the country and those of us who live in it. So I thought I’d write a short piece about the intriguingly named “Black Act” of 1774.

After the Great Fire of London in 1666, Charles II realised how much the traditional construction of buildings had aided the spread of the fire. Specifically, the close proximity of buildings and the incendiary nature of building material (i.e. timber) had literally fuelled the fire.

The Rebuilding of the City of London Act of 1667 determined that the size of buildings had to correspond with the width of a street. In addition they had to be built in brick or stone. Timber-framed buildings were forbidden. There could be no projections or jetties over the streets either, because they allowed fire to leap from house to house. Further legislation to standardise and improve the quality of construction in London was introduced in 1707, 1709, 1764 and 1772.

But it was the Building Act of 1774 that consolidated all previous legislation. The Act became known as the Black Act and defined construction of urban and suburban houses in the 18th and 19th centuries. Drafted by the architects Sir Robert Taylor and George Dance, the aim was to standardise the quality and construction of buildings and make the exterior of a building as fire-proof as possible. The Act restricted any superfluous exterior timber ornamentation, except for door frames and shop fronts. Window joinery which previous legislation had already pushed back from the wall face was now concealed in recesses behind to avoid the spread of fire.

When researching the construction of an 18th or 19th century house in London the “rate” of the house is often found. This was introduced by The Black Act and determined 4 types of building construction graded by value and floor area.

A “First Rate” house was valued at over £850 and occupied more than 900 sq ft.
A “Second Rate” House was worth between £350 and £850 in ground rent and occupied 500-900 sq ft. These buildings faced notable streets, and the Thames.
A “Third Rate” House was smaller and worth around £150-£300. It occupied 350-500 square feet and faced principal streets.
Finally, a “Fourth Rate” House was valued at less than £150 per year in ground rent and occupied less than 350 square feet and would be found in minor streets.

Each “rate” was given a structural requirement for foundations and walls. But the real importance of this grading was setting the standard for speculative building. The limitation of size and value tended to create standards from which there was little or no variation.

The result of was the development of the London terrace, creating the simple elegant uniformity so admired today and reflected in the premium paid when purchasing a “Georgian” property. However, at the time it was loathed for stifling creativity. Benjamin Disraeli blamed the Act for "all those flat, dull spiritless streets all resembling each other, like a large family of plain children."

What Was The Window Tax? (Letting Light In On Blind Windows)

2010-02-02T12:41:00.007Z

I remember, from a very young age, being fascinated by and looking out for old buildings with blocked up or blind windows (my love of historic buildings began early). I was told by my father that these features were a result of the long-loathed Window Tax. Such a ridiculous-sounding imposition only made me seek them out more.

It is widely thought that the phrase “daylight robbery” originates from opposition to this levy (it was certainly viewed to be a tax on “light and air”). Unfortunately there is no evidence to support this assumption. But what exactly was this unpopular revenue-generator and how does it play its part in unravelling a house’s history?

The Window Tax existed from 1696 to 1851. It was introduced during the reign of William III as part of the beautifully named “Act of Making Good the Deficiency of the Clipped Money”. It was considered by the law-makers to be fair as the greater demand was placed on the better-off, living by default in larger houses and therefore with more windows and those of very meagre means were exempt.

When the Act was passed in 1696 it was a tax for the occupiers of the house, not the owner. Only if the property was empty would the owner be liable to pay. There were 2 parts to the levy. First, a flat-rate house tax of 2 shillings and the second payment was determined by the number of windows. Properties with between ten and twenty windows paid a total of 4 shillings, and those above twenty windows paid 8 shillings. The minimum number that could be taxed was reduced to 7 in 1766 and increased to 8 in 1825. The flat-rate tax was changed to a variable rate in 1778, when it became determined by the property’s value, not simply its existence. Scotland was spared the tax for nearly 100 years. However, William Pitt brought it in there in 1784. To this day, blind windows north of the border are called “Pitt’s Pictures”. It has to be said though, that not every blocked up or blind window is necessarily so because of the Window Tax. Some were built that way to provide an exterior decoration or symmetry to a building. Good thorough research can determine which it is.

As a house historian, however, window tax records are very useful to understand the full history of a house. They may not have survived as comprehensive or complete, but in the parts of the country where they do still exist the records can give a clue as to the size of the property at the time of the tax demand. Most telling is when there are changes in the amount due from one year to the next, which could indicate whether there had been a demolition or addition to the property. If you are lucky enough to find the window tax records of a property they can prove to be a key chapter in the story of the house.

This article can also be found on www.projectbook.com (The UK's premier resource centre for period and listed buildings projects).