Read on Twitter
THREAD/Greetings and welcome to what will probably be the final virtual walk for now in our #lockdown2 series. We meet at the Tooley Street entrance to London Bridge Station and as over the past three weekends, we are going to look at not only
the wartime past of the area featured on our route but will also glimpse at the industrial and social history of the region, whilst trying to point out one or two decent pubs, should you find yourself doing this walk for real at some point.
As before, there will be one or two repetitions from our previous series of virtual walks during the first lockdown but I will try and keep these to a minimum. We are standing in the Joiner Street Arch of London Bridge Station facing out onto Tooley Street and a plaque here
reminds us that some of the arches here, together with the associated ironworks are believed to have formed part of the original 1839 station that stood here, so we are staring at some of the very earliest railway history in London that also managed to survive two world wars.
One road further back is the Stainer Street Arch, which on 17 February 1941 received a direct hit by a HE bomb. The arch was being used as an air raid shelter at the time and sadly 68 people here were killed and a further 175injured in what must have been a horrific incident.
Earlier, the sanitary conditions in the arch had attracted the ire of the Regional Officer for the area, in whose report the phrase “I am sure that I have never seen anything so entirely sickening than these public shelters” eloquently said everything that needed to be said.
We will now cross the main A200 Tooley Street, and will immediately branch off to the right in front of the attractive art deco style St Olaf House, one time headquarters of the Hay’s Wharf Company. Hay’s Wharf more or less monopolised the river frontage on the south side of the
Upper Pool of London, the stretch of the Thames that is encompassed by Tower Bridge to the east and London Bridge to the west. St Olaf House was built in 1928-32 to the design of the architect Harry Stuart Goodhart-Rendel, at a time in London’s history when the Hay’s Wharf Co.
probably imagined that ships would be loading and unloading in the heart of London for evermore. The onset of containerisation and ever larger ships meant that Hay’s Wharf was obsolete by 1969 and after a considerable period of time spent in a derelict condition,
the Grade II* listed building was repurposed in the 1980s as part of the private London Bridge Hospital. We now head down the narrow side street in front of St Olaf House, which somewhat confusingly, is also named Tooley Street. Almost immediately, we see a single arch of
arch of London Bridge ahead of us and as we pass beneath it, we see a plaque on the wall that informs us that this is one of the few surviving parts of the John Rennie designed bridge, the majority of which was shipped “across the Pond” from 1967-71 to Lake Havasu City, Arizona,
USA and re-erected there at the behest of Robert McCulloch, an oil tycoon. Contrary to urban myth, Mr McCulloch knew exactly what he was buying and did NOT think that he was buying Tower Bridge at the time! We walk through the arch and pass our first pub of the day on the left
hand side in the form of The Mudlark, a modern building that is currently sheathed in scaffolding. Despite the modern appearance, this is a decent pub that sells a good selection of ales and which is worth a visit in normal times. On our right is a short expanse of river frontage
which affords views of the Thames, whilst opposite here looms Southwark Cathedral, which suffered numerous amounts of blast damage during the Blitz and which still shows splinter damage visible on the southern buttress. We continue what is now Montague Close which bears to the
left and immediately take a sharp right turn into Cathedral Street, when soon afterwards a replica of the Golden Hinde comes into view berthed in St Mary Overie Dock, where in normal times she is open to the public. Like Drake’s original ship of the same name, the Golden Hinde
has circumnavigated the globe but has been moored here since 1996. During the Blitz, this area was a maze of small wharves and docks and on 7 September 1940, was one of the first areas to be hit. We continue westwards onto Clink Street and soon we see the impressive ruins of
Winchester House, which dates from 1109 and which was once the palace of the Bishop of Winchester. During the Civil War, it was used to house Royalist prisoners but by the time of the restoration, it had begun to fall into disrepair and eventually, it became absorbed within the
morass of tenements and warehouses that once occupied this area. A fire in one of the warehouses in 1841 revealed the rose window and bomb damage a century later in 1941 revealed more of the remains. Further bomb damage in 1943 caused the warehouse to be pulled down completely
which also damaged the Stoney Street archway end of the structure but over the years, the gradual demolition and redevelopment of the area allowed the building to be exposed in its present form and the ruins stabilised. We next pass the buildings once used as the notorious Clink
Prison, which gave prison its own nickname for a number of years. We soon see ahead of us and to our right, one of the famous riverside pubs, The Anchor, Bankside. A pub has been here for about 800 years, although the present pub dates from around 1770.
During a previous incarnation, the pub was known as the Castle upon the Hope and it was from here that Samuel Pepys, with friends watched the Great Fire of London in 1666 as it made its inexorable progress on the opposite side of the Thames. The present pub was severely damaged
during the Blitz and repairs to the upper floors and northwest corner can still clearly be seen. The pub contains many images of the area from the past, including the wartime years and although it can be a tad “touristy” in the summer, is well worth a visit. We’re in the shadow
of Cannon Street Railway Bridge and as we look across the river at the station, we can see the two towers which together with parts of the retaining walls
are the only remaining parts of the original station, opened in 1866. The station roof (minus the glass which had already
are the only remaining parts of the original station, opened in 1866. The station roof (minus the glass which had already
been removed) was destroyed on the night of 10/11 May 1941. The station hotel that once faced out onto Cannon Street was also seriously damaged and was never properly repaired, only to be demolished in the early 1960s. We have already heard on our City walk how Driver Les Stainer
and colleagues managed to salvage trains from the burning station and how he cheated death when his locomotive was hit, so will not repeat the story in full today. We now pass beneath Southwark Bridge and recall that during WW2, this bridge was one of several that carried
massive 6 inch pipes capable of pumping water direct from the Thames moved a pumping station similar to that photographed at Charlton on last week’s walk. This particular station is long gone and sadly no traces of the pipes now remain. We soon see the impressively reconstructed
Globe Theatre on our left, which stands close to Bear Gardens, a reminder of the area’s more sordid past when as well as theatres, ale houses and bear baiting pits predominated in the area.
We then come to Cardinal Cap Alley, which is in the middle of a delightful row of houses, one of which was used by Sir Christopher Wren whilst he was overseeing the rebuilding of St Paul’s Cathedral and the many City churches designed by him and his team of builders.
On our left, we soon see the massive shape of the former Bankside Power Station, since 2000 the Tate Modern. There had been a power station here since 1893 but the present structure, which became known as Bankside ‘B’ dates was completed in 1963
to the design of Sir Giles Gilbert Scott and was designed in his distinctive style as a “temple of power”. It was designed to be oil fired and was powered by “Bunker C” fuel transported by barge from Shellhaven Oil Refinery. The wartime power station was hit on two occasions
during the Blitz, the first time on 11 October 1940 during a rare (for that period) daylight raid. Two weeks later, the Luftwaffe returned in a night raid and this time killed two workers here. On 27 June 1944, the power station was hit by a V-1 flying bomb
and the incident brought out a tale of tragic heroism from another of the workers here. Charles Reeves, a 55-year-old veteran of the Great War and Home Guard member, remained at his post when the alert sounded in order to switch the power off if needed and sadly was killed when
the missile struck. We also now walk beneath the Millennium Bridge, once infamous for being the “Wobbly” Bridge but will not cross today and will continue on our westward trek. We soon see another modern looking pub, The Founder’s Arms, which enjoys
great views over the Thames and is well worth a visit. We continue and soon walk beneath Blackfriars Rail Bridge, which also now carries Blackfriars Station, which was redeveloped recently in an imaginative project when the Thameslink service was revamped.
This line has revitalised the station and re-uses a connection which was established in the Victorian era and allowed to close in the 1950s. There were originally two railway bridges here, the first one built in 1864 and designed by Joseph Cubitt, which carried trains to the old
Holborn Viaduct Station. This bridge was disused by the 1970s and demolished in 1985, although some of the abutments form part of the supports for the platforms of the new station above. The current bridge dates from 1886 and was designed by Sir John Wolfe-Barry and
Henry-Marc Brunel (son of Isambard). Alongside the two railway bridges stands Blackfriars Road Bridge, also a product of Joseph Cubitt and which features abutments shaped like pulpits in a nod to the Black Friars Priory that once stood on the north side of the Thames near here.
Adjacent to the northern side of the road bridge was another of the National Fire Services Auxiliary Pumping Stations, which until a couple of years ago was still visible, although long disused. It was demolished in conjunction with work being undertaken for the London water
"ring main". On the south side of the bridge, we see another pub, the Doggett’s Coat & Badge, named after the oldest rowing race in the world, as well as the prize given to the winner. The race, which is still held annually, is for apprentice Thames Watermen and is
a gruelling 4 miles, 5 furlongs (7.44 km) upstream from London Bridge to Cadogan Pier, Chelsea. As we continue, we soon see the distinctive Oxo Tower, which was converted from an existing building in 1928 by the Oxo Company in an art deco style for use as a cold store.
The building was derelict for a long period of the 1970s and 80s but is now used for housing, community space and a restaurant as part of the Coin Street Project. Strangely, it isn’t a listed building! This whole area we now know as the South Bank, suffered heavily during the
Blitz, most notably on the night of 10/11 May 1941. Until then, it had been a semi-slum area of riverside warehouses and working-class housing. The scene on this night was captured in this image painted by a local artist.
We see the South Bank Television Studios, an unremarkable building but one which holds sentimental value for me as I worked here in the late 1980s when P&O took the three top floors. Next, we see the National Theatre, completed in 1976-77 in the brutalist style.
We walk beneath Waterloo Bridge, the second bridge on this site, which was completed in 1942 to the design of Sir Giles Gilbert Scott. It reputedly used female labourers for the latter stages of the construction and was also hit by a German bomb whilst still under construction.
The South Bank site was cleared for the 1951 Festival of Britain and the next building we see is a survivor of this event, the Royal Festival Hall designed by Robert Matthew & Leslie Martin. It is a 2,700 concert and dance venue and is now a Grade 1 listed building,
the first post-war building to be so designated. Immediately next to the Festival Hall, we see Hungerford Bridge and the Golden Jubilee Footbridges. Hungerford Bridge was hit twice during the war. The first occasion came on the night of 16/17 April 1941 when a parachute mine fell
on the tracks and became welded to the live third rail. These naval mines were the responsibility of the Royal Navy to defuse and so Lt. Ernest Oliver “Mick” Gidden RNVR arrived on the scene. After working for six hours, including the use of a hammer and chisel to
remove the mine from the third rail, the device was eventually made safe. For his efforts, Gidden already a George Medal holder, was awarded a George Cross for his bravery and devotion to duty in rendering the mine safe. On 18 June 1944, the bridge was struck by a V-1 Flying Bomb
which exploded and partially destroyed one span of the bridge, which was not fully repaired until after the war. Before we walk beneath Westminster Bridge, we see the London County Hall, designed by Ralph Knott and opened in 1922 as HQ of the
London County Council. It later passed to the Greater London Council in 1965 and was the home of London’s government, until the GLC was abolished in 1986. The building is now used as a hotel and an aquarium. We now walk beneath Westminster Bridge, which dates
from 1862 and is the oldest bridge now in use across the Thames. It survived the war untouched by enemy bombs but in 2017, an unexploded bomb was dredged up from the Thames very close to the bridge, and so highlighted a narrow escape nearly 80 years previously.
On our left, we now see St Thomas’s Hospital, a mixture of modern buildings completed in 1975 and part of the original building dating from 1871, which still shows signs of bomb damage from the Blitz, most notably on 10 September 1940, when ten staff
as well as two Auxiliary Firemen were killed. St Thomas’s is one of the nation’s most famous hospitals and is widely associated with Florence Nightingale, who came to prominence during the Crimean War.
As we walk towards Lambeth Palace, we see a relatively recent memorial statue commemorating the agents of the SOE – Special Operations Executive. This is a fine memorial that deserves a visit. Lambeth Palace on the opposite side of the road
is the official residence of the Archbishop of Canterbury and parts of the present building date from 1435-40. The buildings did incur some serious bomb damage during the Blitz but have been painstakingly restored over the years. We now walk beneath Lambeth Bridge and soon find
ourselves walking along Albert Embankment. Opposite us, we see the former HQ Building of the London Fire Brigade, which dates from 1937 and was the headquarters until 2007 and during WW2 was the HQ of the London Fire Force of the National Fire Service.
In the Thames itself, is the only remaining floating fire station of the LFB. Going back to the HQ building itself, it will at some point in the future contain the London Fire Brigade Museum. A short distance along we see White Hart Dock, a former dock and slipway
which dates back to the 14th Century and which during WW2 was used as an Emergency Water Supply for the Fire Brigade. On the wall, we can still see the faded EWS signage which would have guided firefighters to this alternative supply of water.
There is also a plaque here to remind us of the Lambeth Cholera Epidemic of 1848, which was centred on this area, then a hive of industry by the Thames, discharging all manner of pollution into the river, which of course was also the main source of drinking water.
We’re coming towards the end of our walk now and whilst we can continue to Vauxhall Bridge, the southern pier of which does contain splinter damage, this is not currently accessible due to major works which have closed pedestrian access to the bridge. Instead, we shall now
adjourn to The Rose, a pleasant Victorian pub which affords views of the Thames and where one can also grab a bite to eat. Thanks to all of you who have supported these virtual walks over the past four weekends. They do take a fair bit of putting together
but hopefully they have given you a taste for the real thing and when we eventually return to something approaching normal life in the spring, we’ll be able to abolish virtual in favour of real. I’ll still be on Twitter of course and still sharing all sorts of wartime stuff
but without these marathon threads. Obviously, if we go back into #Lockdown3 or “grandson of lockdown” (God help us), then I’ll think of something to keep us occupied!/END
