Woolwich Arsenal Station

 

I realised that it’s some time since I wrote up a railway station and that the last one I did was Woolwich Dockyard. So, this week I’m going to do Woolwich Arsenal station which has had many rebuilds – I’m rather afraid that this whole article is just going to be a list of building changes.

Obviously a station at Woolwich was discussed from the start of plans for a railway into Kent via Greenwich. As various proposals were made it  emerged that Woolwich itself was not particularly grateful and in fact was quite hostile to the railway, Vincent in ‘Records of the Woolwich District’ quotes at length a report of a meeting held in 1836 in which “a respectable private meeting of proprietors and other inhabitants of Woolwich ..... adopted measures in opposition to the project for a railroad from Greenwich to Gravesend’.  They objected that the railway would be in a cutting through the centre of the town and that “no such excavation or cut has ever been attempted through a town so densely populated’.  A leader in this protest was Lewis Davis - who we’ve met before in connexion with water and gas supplies in Woolwich.  It was resolved that the line would be a nuisance and prevent proper drainage and cause difficulties in the supply of gas and water -and they agreed to oppose any legislation.

As late as 1841 The Woolwich Commissioners were voting never to address Colonel Landmann again

The railway was eventually built in the late 1840s as part of the South Eastern Railway’s North Kent Line with trains running through the Blackheath Tunnel to Charlton. They then ran from Charlton to Woolwich and then proceeding to Kent - thus avoiding Greenwich entirely

Woolwich Arsenal Station was opened in 1849. The North Kent line had only settled on this route and location in 1846, wanting it principally because it was at the eastern edge of the parish, where it could serve the Arsenal.  It was built on the site of Pattison's chalk pit. Vincent gives a great deal of detail about the location of this pit and includes maps – which are unintelligible in terms of what would it is like today.  ¬¬¬¬ He points out that several of the stations built on the North Kent Line in this area were constructed in various gravel or chalk pits which proliferated along the route of the line.  The station was the primary one on the North Kent route serving the Woolwich as the largest town. 

The Kent Rail web site (https://www.kentrail.org.uk/) reports the state of works on the line in the Woolwich area before opening.  Interestingly line inspections for the Board of Trade were carried out by Royal Engineers. From reports from June 1849 it appears that work on the Woolwich section was lagging behind. A second inspection in July revealed that the section of line through Woolwich was covered in rubbish and building materials and it was not recommended for opening. Later it was reported that although major works were essentially finished, heavy rain had caused cuttings to flood. It was suggested that trains should be restricted to a moderate speed.

 

When the line opened it was in an open cutting and on the corner of Woolwich New Road and what is now called Vincent Street. It did not face onto the main New Road but was on the north side of Vincent Street.  opposite the Bull public house.  It was designed to plans by the company engineer, Peter William Barlow, with elevations by the company architect, Samuel Beazley and It was built by John Kelk.  It had a five bay single-storey front and steps down to two platforms on the lower-level rail lines in their cutting. These original buildings survived into the 1970s. The station was first called just ‘Arsenal’, then ‘Royal Arsenal’, then ‘Woolwich Arsenal Station’.

The South Eastern Railway used the area around the Station as an important place go keep locomotives when they were not being used as an extension of the complex at Bricklayers Arms. This was on the ‘’up’’ side and included an engine shed and, later, a turntable. On the ‘’down’’ side were three sidings, with a shed used for goods. Although Plumstead was the main hub for traffic to and from the Royal Arsenal there were a number of other sidings at Woolwich. These lines were controlled by a signal box in the style of the South Eastern Railway, with their trademark clapboard with sash windows.

By 1867 over 3,000 passengers a day were travelling from Arsenal station to London, and it was also busy on Sundays with trippers bound for Gravesend.

In 1905 all this infrastructure was removed and in 1905, W Patterson & Sons Ltd rebuilt the layout to a complete transformation. The ‘up’ side main offices were enlarged and the ticket office shifted to street level and above the lines.  It now faced onto Woolwich New Road and was set back behind a canopy with a carriage forecourt.  Access became easier by the installation of iron staircases. The goods shed was single-storey and had a pitched roof, curved to match the platforms. The platform surfaces were lined with single-storey yellow brick walls, with canopies – and they still remain.  Buildings which had been adjacent to the first station were replaced with a single-storey brick range and that still survives as 3 Vincent Road, now mainly storage and offices for local businesses. The opening of the of Slade Green Depot in 1899  meant the end for Woolwich Arsenal’s shed and turntable – both were taken out of use in 1905.

In 1926 the Southern Railway installed electrification as far as Dartford. Steam trains remained in use for Kent Coast excursions and goods traffic, and were still used in the sidings.

In 1926 following electrification the ‘Smoke Hole’ was removed and the space filled.  It had been the source of protests from local traders and the public for nearly 80 years. When the railway was built the earlier fears that it would go through the town in a cutting became a reality and in fact happened. In order to allow for the smoke to be vented from the locomotives running below ground level an area of street which was left open and grated over.  This was in the road in what is now General Gordon Square - in front of the old Woolwich Equitable building - and in those days there was no General Gordon Square. Just a street with shops and houses and so on

In 1965, under British Railways goods traffic ended and by then steam trains had vanished on this area. The goods shed was demolished, but its southern elevation was kept. In the 1970s the original Arsenal station building was still standing in Vincent Road, with a causeway running down to the railway tracks and there was a car park on the site of the locomotive sheds and sidings.  The signal box lasted until 1970 when control was transferred to a temporary panel at St John’s station

The station was replaced again in 1992–3 with a high-tech pavilion, commissioned by Network South-East and designed by British Rail’s Architecture and Design Group, led by Nick Derbyshire and Alastair Lansley.  It has a thin wing-like canopy roof, supported on reconstituted Portland stone with steel columns on Cornish-granite bases and floors. A steel and glass beacon rises above the booking hall, which was cited in Architectural Review as ‘a lighthouse of urbanity’.  There are railings and stairs, but these are apparently never used, nor is the beacon ever lit.

On the up platform there is a 1993 terracotta relief mural, ‘Workers of Woolwich’, by Martin Williams, depicting work in the Arsenal, and funded by British Rail’s Community Unit with the University of Greenwich and Greenwich Council.

On 20th May 2005 the ‘’down’’ side platform was closed to passengers, to allow more major modification work. The South Eastern Railway designed canopies were replaced and there were new toilets, lifts, and an additional platform. The original ‘’down’’ side retaining wall was demolished and a new one built. Passengers wanting to alight at Woolwich had to travel down to Plumstead, then return on a London-bound train until the ‘’down’’ platform re-opened in August 2006.

I’m sorry if this article has just been a list of building changes to the station - these seem to have been endless. It is an important station and some of the facilities which have come and gone have been equally important.  So I’m sorry if I’ve had no space for any human interest stories or events which have happened at the station - nor indeed has there been space to record the addition of the Docklands Light Railway - another time perhaps?

Landmann and Dottin - the first meeting of the London and Greenwich Railway Board

 

This week I want to continue with the background to George Landmann’s involvement in the London and Greenwich Railway.  I left it a couple of weeks ago with the crucial first meeting in 1831 of what was to become the Board -  the group of men who were to set up the Greenwich Railway .Before I do so there are still some issues in Landmann’s life before 1831 which,  if I am telling his story,  I need to add in. So, I want to return briefly to his private life – if only to keep his story in some sort of order.  I need to go back a few years, to before he resigned his commission in 1824.. 

I don’t know why Landmann resigned his commission but I believe he had orders for a posting which he did not want to take up = possibly to Ceylon.  This may be an indication that there were reasons why the authorities wanted him out of the way.  It is noticeable that in his life after he left the army he no longer seems to have contact with royalty and other elites - his whole lifestyle became much more down market.  Remarkably the obituaries published after his death, some 30 years later, only describe his life up until the sale of his commission - there is never anything about his subsequent career and the building of two railways. This complete omission of his later life was continued in national biographies. After 1824 in official eyes he ceased to exist,

In 1821 his son Charles was born. Strangely his birthplace was a central London hotel - the Chedron Hotel in Leicester Square.  He was later christened in the central  London church of St Martin's in the Fields. I am convinced that these prominent locations were chosen to make some sort of statement - although I'm not entirely clear what it is.  Landmann was not married to Charles’ mother – his wife and mother of Louisa and George  was Harriett Dickinson arri  - his new partner was Harriett Hayward, and her background is very interesting.

Harriett was 23 and had been born in Brandon,  Suffolk.  Her father was Philip Hayward and if you go to Brandon today you can see his house (https://www.brecsoc.org.uk/). There are many websites which describe him and how he set up the Brandon flint industry.   In the late 18th century flint was increasingly needed in the manufacture of ordinance and it appears that originally it was sourced from chalk mines in the Swanscombe area, near Gravesend. Philip Hayward is said to have gone from there to Brandon in the 1790s to set up a flint knapping industry there which would provide huge amounts of flints for ordnance manufacture.

In the 1980s Stella, my then boss, had a house in the forest at Brandon and I spent a lot of time there and really got to know it.  The whole town has reminders of the flint industry in names of houses, pubs and streets and all sorts of reminders of what was the major industry and a source of great changes in this small town.

Harriett Hayward appears to have been a respectable middle class young woman and maybe there was a scandal over Landmann’s relationship with her – although in the 1820s the moral climate was still – well – Georgian!  They were to stay together, marrying  in 1844 two months after his wife, Harriett Dickinson’s death.

In 1831 several other men became involved in setting up what became the Greenwich railway.  So, before I start the actual story of the railway I need to look at the people who were involved at the start of it.  In the early 19^th century many, many companies were being floated  and if you look at the newspapers of the day you will find many lists of these companies and proposals which include lists of the first investors and of  those who want to launch the company.  In the 1820s and 30s many of these flotations were about building new railways.  I intend to look at these in the context of the Greenwich Railway but, first, there are more general issues involved.

So,  back to Landmann and some of his contacts. After he resigned his commission in 1824 he apparently took off around Europe with William Congreve in order to try and sell gasworks to European cities, in which they were successful. They did this under the auspices of the London based Imperial Continental Gas Association.  Congreve had been involved with a number of gas companies in London and , for example. had worked to bring the attention of royalty with a spectacular display at peace celebrations in 1814. He was involved in a number of gas companies  - some with people who were less than honest.

The Imperial Continental Gas Association seems to have escaped some of these scandals and prospered, only being wound up in the 1980s – when some of the European gas industry was British owned, rather than the other way round.  By chance when ICGA  was in its last days I was in almost daily contact with its last Chair – he was a friend of Stella’s - and I was able to learn more about the history of the company through him.

One of the main promoters of the Imperial Continental Gas Association was Mathias Atwood who was a director and partner in Spooner Bank. Spooners became the bankers for the Greenwich Railway and Mathias Atwood was to become their Treasurer. Although most histories of the railway mention at Attwood as a prominent banker he was much more than that . The Attwoods were a large and interesting family who had spread from an iron works in the Black Country into to into chemicals and much else.  Mathais’s  father had made  a fortune through a monopoly on Swedish iron.  His brother was Thomas Attwood the Reformer and early Chartist.  His son,  Mathias Wolverley Attwood, was Member of Parliament for Greenwich. The fortunes of the Atwood family were very much based on the exploitation of new technologies – like ICGA and the Greenwich Railway.

In November 1831 notices appeared in the newspapers from a solicitor’s company announcing an application for an Act of Parliament to enable a railway to be built from London to Greenwich.  This application resulted from the meeting of  25^th of November of the group who were to constitute the first board, the body which would oversee the construction of the new  railway.  They were George Landmann himself  with a George Walter,  Abel Rous Dottin,  Robert Johnston, Digby Neave.  John Twells and A.K. Hutchinson . So who were they and what was their interest in the railway.  They met in Dottin’s office

I think  A.K. Hutchinson was the company solicitor and he was presumably present as an advisor..  George Walter was to becomer a major player in the construction of the  early railway its construction but does not appear in the list of subscribers which was published soon after the notice of intention to go to Parlisment.   I think he probably deserves quite a long piece about his background and activities –so you will have to wait for another week for that.

Abel Rous Dottin was the first Chair. He was by then in his sixties and had had a past as a Captain in the 2^nd Life Guards . He is described as ‘a gentleman of ample means and genial disposition - a fine old English gentleman’. (Hmm!). His family’s fortune was based on Plantations in Barbados and In 1837 he was ro receive compensation for estates there and 174 slaves.

In the 1830s Dottin was a Member of Parliament for Southampton. Earlier however, in 1818, he had been MP for Gatton  - Gatton? At school when we learnt about the 1832 Reform Bill we were  told about Gatton – the rottenmost of rotten Boroughs.  It had a couple of electors who usually sold their votes for cash. You can still see the ‘Town Hall‘ – basically a garden folly in the grounds of a school.In the 1830s as MP for Southampton Dottin was involved in the Southampton and London Railway and Dock Company and later he was a Director of the London and South Western Railway.

Robert Johnson was another West Indies slave owner but one who was widely travelled. He moved to the United States quite soon after his involvement with the Greenwich Railway and so was not around to see it finished and open.

Digby Neave seems have been rather different.  He was a Baronet with an estate in the Romford area of Essex. He was also  an artist exhibiting  at the Royal Academy and a close friend of Constable.  He was related by marriage to Abel Dottin and late he was also involved in the Dover Railway Company and New Gravesend Railway Companies.

John Twells was a partner in the Spooner Attwood Bank and related by marriage to the Attwood family

Thus we can see that the steering  committee of the Greenwich railway consisted of middle aged and elderly men, some of them MPs and  mostly Tories - with a strong element of bankers and, I’m afraid, slave owners.  Ron Thomas pointed out in his history of the London & Greenwich that some of them had service connexions in the army.  

I will finish here with George Landmann and note the birth in September 1832 of his daughter Helen Catherine – his second child with Harriett Haywood. . We should also  note that her birth was in the Old Kent Road; an area into which Landmann had recently moved and  something which I will take up in a future article. .She was however baptised, like her elder brother, at St Martin in the Fields. 

Helen is the most interesting of Landmann’s children and in fact he seems to have done rather better with his daughters than with his sons.  I have not yet detailed his eldest child, Louisa, who by the time of Helen’s birth was 28 years old - and there will be more to come about both of them.

 

Riverside walk - Council consultation

 I see I see that the Council has a consultation out about what people feel about the Riverside Path I’m not sure how ethical it is for me to put my fairly detailed researches about the path into the public arena at this stage but I can’t really see why not.

Of course the path goes all the way through the Borough - the longest stretch of any ‘riparian boundary’ area of any London Borough. It goes from Upper Watergate in Deptford, at the Lewisham boundary, all the way down to where it joins the Bexley boundary in the wilds of Thamesmead. This takes in some interesting areas

Of course the first Deptford stretch isn’t on the actual riverside in that it takes us along Borthwick Street and then crosses the Creek. It then goes along an incredibly boring newish riverside walkway to what we all know at Cutty Sark and the famous bit of Royal Greenwich. Then on to the Peninsula of which more below. Beyond that it goes down through Charlton to a point at the Thames Barrier which was completely blocked until only a few years ago. Then it ends for a bit at the Woolwich ferry and picks up again to go through Woolwich.  At one time you were unable to go any further at the Arsenal wall and you certainly couldn’t go through the Arsenal itself. However these days the walk continues on through what was the Arsenal ending in a longish fairly wild section with bushes and undergrowth right the way down to Thamesmead. All of it is interesting with lots to see.

Everyone that I’ve spoken to seems to take it for granted that what the Council is talking about is the stretch between Pelton Road and Angerstein Wharf -  that is the traditional path and has been written about by lots of people, including me.

My copy of ‘Nairn’s London’ is falling to bits.  When I bought it in 1966 (price 8/6d) it was the brave new world but now it’s a historical document.  One of the reasons it’s so tatty is Nairn’s description of the Riverside path “unknown and unnamed .. .the best Thameside walk in London”.

I guess it was originally just a walk along the river wall  - and we have no idea how old that is. In 1867 the Court of Queen’s Bench heard that it was there at the time of Norman Conquest and for all they knew it was Roman.  The public have walked it ever since but now no longer on the river edge because of need for a cycle path and ‘health and safety’. Planting between the river and the people means you can’t see the river - which is what you came to see in the first place

The oldest pictures of the area which show people on the path,  both of them are of the 17^th century gunpowder works (on the site of Enderbys).  In them people are taking the dog for a walk, sketching, chatting .. or just, well, walking. A few years ago the Enderby Group did a footfall survey on the path – and things haven’t really changed, except for the bicycles. Today with so many residents living so close to the path in all the new flats there must be an enormously increased footfall.

Nairn describes the path starting at the Blackwall Tunnel’s ‘pretty art nouveau gatehouse’ down a passage alongside the Delta Metal Company “which zigs and it zags and it doesn’t give up and eventually comes out at the river”. It’s a bit different now because from where he started, at Ordnance Draw Dock, you couldn’t follow the path round the gas works but it now continues all the way round the Dome.

I would like to think that whoever operates the Dome might do something a bit more imaginative with that stretch of the path. I do remember being herded into a room to meet the developer who was going to take the Dome over and tell us what they were going to do. I, in all innocence, asked in what way they intended to relate the development to the River. They looked surprised – River? they said questioningly.  They didn’t seem to be aware it was there or that they should do anything at all to acknowledge it.  Which is a pity - but then they’re all Americans!

North of this in 1868 Lewis and Stockwell, shipbuilders, built a large a dry dock (where the hotel is now) and this interrupted and blocked the river path. I don't know how this was resolved then by the Vestry who thought it was ‘not a good idea to give up these old rights in a hurry’ but they also thought new employment opportunities were important. (Nothing changes, it really doesn’t). The remains of the dry dock lie somewhere under the Dome.

One of the wharves in that area had a lot of lively workers who claimed they kept finding Roman remains as the Dome site was cleared  -  saying ‘I’ve put them all in my aquarium, love’.

When the Gas Works was built in the 1890s the riverside path was closed right round its site.  Following an enquiry in the House of Lords, Ordnance Draw Dock was built by the gas company as compensation. A sort of 19^th century planning gain. I hope Greenwich residents visit this draw dock which is still a right of way despite scary notices from the people in the Dome and the Hotel.  You can’t access it for its proper use as a draw dock because you can’t park a car down there and you can’t use a draw dock without a vehicle. 

So off we go down the path - and I’m pleased to see that Bullet From a Shooting Star is still there. I always thought it is very much the best of the sculptures which have been put in by the various developers.

Ian Nairn was writing in 1966 – about the world we have lost when the River really was the River with lots of boats and the path was lined with interesting industries - or at least I think they were interesting. He talked about the path taking ‘exciting forms...between walls ... under cranes ...nipping round the back of a boatyard’ .  Much  of that stretch was straightened out in the 1980s.  “A continuous flirtation with the slow moving river choked with working boats”. (if only!) 

In 1867 the right of way on this whole stretch was taken to the Court of Queen’s Bench by Greenwich Vestry in a case against the shipbuilders, Maudslay Son and Field who had blocked the path. They were on the site we now call Bay Wharf where now there is the boat yard built by Morden College to compensate for the loss of Pipers – and because it meant the nearest boat repair business would be up in Ipswich.  Here Maudslay built Cutty Sark’s two sisters, Hallowe'en and Blackadder. That 1867 Court case had huge public support and the gallery was crowded with local people shouting and clapping.    Counter evidence came from Mr. Soames whose soap works was on the site of the later sugar refinery. He said that companies would go out of business if the public could walk along the riverside past them.  The Court and Lord Chief Justice Cockburn didn’t agree and declared in favour of the right of way.  It is the same stretch which Greenwich Council went to court about in the 1990s when the then occupants blocked it  and the right of way was declared again.

In 2000 there was a development agency in place for East Greenwich and they were employing a full-time worker on the Riverside Path. He was an interesting young bloke and he worked very hard to get it all together. There seemed to be some hope that it could be modernised and make more available but in a tactful sort of way. Of course he didn’t last and although the Council put various young planners in charge of it they always had other jobs and priorities. 

I soon discovered that there were a range of agencies which had all sorts of rights on the path. There were always complaints and I guess there still are, from members the public because ‘the Council had closed the path’. But sometimes the council didn’t even know the path was closed until someone rang in and complained. There were bodies - and they must still exist – with various rights. The foreshore is owned by the Crown and the Environment Agency seems to be able to do what it likes there. The path also has stretches where it is privately owned.  I remember that the Enderby Group discovered by accident that a drain was to be built across the path by a maritime body based in Newcastle - who clearly knew nothing whatsoever about Greenwich and the sensitivities around the path. 

I do not doubt that the Council Planners do their best. They set a formula many years ago for what they thought the path should be like  - paved and decent and with a band of planting between the path and the River for safety reasons. It meant that the view of the River was very much curtailed although of course there is not much to see these days.  I have always felt that we should at least try and preserve the memory of the working River - it was an exciting place. It might have been dirty and dangerous and exploitative and lots of things but there was always something going for it which was interesting and exciting at the same time.  I miss so much the noise of it – all the different hoots  which told us all what was in Port and where it was going.

As for Nairn - he got to the “final exciting stretch past Greenwich Power station and another good Riverside pub, The Yacht”.   Then he says “God preserve it from the prettifiers” and, in a footnote, “They’ are trying to close it. Walk it as you would a country path, till they are sick to the guts.”

Well .. ok..

(my books on it: Greenwich Marsh, 1999 no longer available; Greenwich Peninsula. Greenwich Marsh. 2020 Amazon; The Greenwich Riverside: Upp

A breach in the sea wall - problems on the Peninsula in the early 19th century

 

A BREACH IN THE SEA WALL

 The river is an ever-present reality around the Greenwich Peninsula.  Sometimes, when floods seemed likely, that reality became a threat. 

 The Greenwich Peninsula's real name is 'Greenwich Marsh' where a network of sluices was built, probably, in the Middle Ages.  Flood defences along the riverbank are always referred to as the 'sea wall' – a term which reflects the potential dangers of the tides.  It is difficult to know when the original embankments against the sea were built – since they are mentioned in a document dating back to 1290. In 1528 they are referred to as the banks 'which had anciently been raised'.  I would be very interested if any Bygone Kent reader could tell me anything about the age of the sea wall. Clearly it is a very important structure, and, as the remainder of this article will show, requires the very best of engineering expertise.  Without it much of the landscape of Thameside would not exist, as we know it.

 Most of the records about the sea walls refer to times when the river had broken through. One early instance is in 1297 when there was a 'certain breach made in the bank betwixt Greenwich and Woolwich by the violence of the tides'.  The problem usually was less a question of getting the breach mended than of persuading the locals to pay for the work.

 From the 1620s the marshland was managed by the  'Marsh Court' or 'Court of Sewers' consisting of landholders and other interested parties who raised the 'Wall Scot' (the local rate) and employed a small staff. . A very full set of minutes for this body exists from 1625, which detail the care that had to be taken to maintain the marsh properly and keep the river out.  This article is about one instance of a breach in the sea wall.

 In October 1825 it became clear that a section of sea wall had become very unsafe and was threatening to give way. At the time two plans were drawn but they don't give enough detail to be able to pinpoint the spot exactly.  One appears to show it on the tip of the peninsula but, since the site was said to be 'opposite the Folly House at Blackwall', it may well have been on the western side of the peninsula at the southern end of the old Delta Works site. .  It appears that the problem was caused by a slight projection which made an irregularity in the line of the sea wall and a breach was threatened.

 The Marsh Court had immediate legal problems in dealing with this because, not only was the work urgent and expensive, but members were unsure of their powers to acquire the site and have the remedial work done.  Could they go ahead and buy the three acres of land, which were affected? If so how should they raise the money?  Or did they need to get a private Act of Parliament first, to give them the powers to do the work?  That would be the proper way to proceed but it would take time and the work was urgent.  First they looked at 'Callis'.  This was Robert Callis' 'Reading upon the Statute of Sewers' originally published in 1685. It had been edited and reissued as recently as 1824 – but perhaps the Greenwich Commission did not have the new edition.  They found that that authority was 'full of doubt and contradiction' and so they sought a legal opinion.  Unfortunately the barrister who they consulted also gave an opinion that the matter was not clear and he told them to get another opinion.

 The Court also began negotiations with the owners of the site – because there was an issue of land reclamation they felt it was important to acquire it. It was occupied by a Mr. Newman, a butcher who used the land for grazing, and the Commission had had the impression that he was the owner. This was not so. The land was actually owned by a Mr. Powis.

 It was decided in due course that it would be simpler and quicker for all the landowners to sign an agreement allowing the commissioners to buy the land and that they would also agree for each of the landowners to pay a sum of money.  It was suggested that the actual purchaser should be Morden College, the wealthy charity that already owned a great deal of land in this area.

 An estimate for the work was sought from John Rennie.  This is the younger Rennie whose more famous father had died four years previously.    He was currently involved, among other things, in completing his father's work on London Bridge.  In the future he was to undertake many projects involving marshland reclamation in the fens but he had already been appointed as Chief Drainage Engineer for the Eau Brink so that drainage, and perhaps embankment, was already an interest of his.

 

Two months later Mr. Bicknell, solicitor to the Commissioners gave an update  on information obtained to a meeting at the Green Man at the top of Blackheath Hill. This meeting was packed with representatives of local interests.

 

Rennie reported on what he thought was the cause of  the problem.  Rennie felt that the great variation in tides throughout the year 'tends to carry the bank away' and that previous remedial work – 'a wooden framing consisting of poles and land ties' together with 'several hundred tons of Kentish ragstone' was making it worse.  The wall would have to be rebuilt. The Court was not impressed with the cost of Rennie's estimate and asked if he could find an alternative, and cheaper, way to solve the problem. Rennie made a second site visit and reported a few days later. He said that the only other possible alternative scheme – to use piling would be even more expensive.  He then sent in his bill for this second consultation.

 

Meanwhile the Court had asked if a report could be obtained from Thomas Telford.  He was at, the age of seventy,  nearing the end of his long career.   He was the 'undisputed head of the civil engineering profession in Britain'.[1] He had considerable experience in the Fens and was soon to work with John Rennie Jnr. there.   The meeting at the Green Man had, however, asked for the most prestigious engineer that they could.

 

Telford too made a site visit. He to pointed out that the exposed position of the portion of bank which had caused the problem. The river narrows slightly at this point and he also drew attention to the new West India docks and the number of vessels which were 'frequently moored adjacent to their entrance' constricting the flow of water. The river thus rose with 'increased violence' and was 'continually grinding the soft matter from the bottom'.    He felt that there was an imminent danger of a breach in the wall.

 

Neither engineer mentioned the Blackwall Rock which had been removed from the northern side of the river about twenty years previously. 

 

Telford, Rennie and the members of the Court of Sewers all thought that the  activities of lightermen employed by the City of London and Trinity House were not helping.    It was alleged by everyone that  material was being removed from the foreshore in this area for use as ballast. The Commission duly wrote to those authorities to point this out asking if this had been going on.  Replies, from the Lord Mayor and the Elder Brethren, were, predictably, non-committal.

 

Telford was however asked to do the work.   The archive includes his detailed specification. The work basically consisted of a new earth bank built in such a way as to make the line of the sea wall completely smooth.   There was to be a drain at the bottom of the inner slope and the whole structure  covered in turf.  The work was to be supervised by the Commission's Wall Reeve who received an enhanced salary for the job.   Two contractors tendered for the work Thomas Cotsworth of Dover Road, Southwark submitted a price of £2,100 and Simmons of Bromley, Kent, who got the job, for under £900.

 

The work was finished by the summer of 1826, apparently without problems, Telford's final inspection took place and his certificate of completion was issued in July.    A dry dock was built in this part of the peninsula in the 1870s but otherwise it is likely that the line of the bank is much as Telford left it, although a considerable amount work must have been done to the wall itself in the intervening years.

 

A year later in July 1827 Telford wrote to remind the Commissioners that he still had not been paid for the job.  It was around the same time that Telford, in the company of Rennie; working on the Nene outfall in the Fens was to catch a severe chill, the first sign that he was beginning to fail with age.

 

Telford was not alone in not having been paid his services – a series of letters had already been received from Rennie.   These concerned his bill for £30 in respect of the second estimate, a sum that the Commissioners refused to pay. In October 1826 Rennie had written to say that he had been in Ireland but that his brother, George, had informed him of the outstanding bill. He wrote to them that he had 'charged only what I conceive myself entitled to' and in April 1827 that 'nothing annoys me more than disputes about money matters'.  The Commissioners recorded that they 'did not find it necessary to alter their first determination'.   

 

Within the next few months the Commissioners also received claims for compensation for late payment from the original landowners.  This was a Mr.Richard Powis.  The original owner had been his father who had just died – Powis wanted £50 as compensation for late payment.

 

There is just the suspicion that this archive might have survived because of the arguments over payment.  The job must have been a relatively small one for Telford and Rennie, but very important in terms of Thames flood prevention.  Few visitors to Greenwich will realise how the care and maintenance by the Marsh Court, its predecessors and successors, over many centuries has kept the land safe and made development of the area today possible.

 

This article has been prepared from archive material in the Greenwich Commission of Sewers archive plus some material on 'imbanking and draining' in the possession of Woodlands Local History Library.  Biographies of Telford and Rennie have also been consulted.

 

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[1] L.T.C.Rolt, Thomas Telford.  1958

Boundary Walk 4 - Lewisham Rail to Loats-pit

 

So, this week I’m back with the 1851 civic procession around the Greenwich boundary – a walk which I have been describing here, with the third episode a couple of weeks ago. It is about a formal group of parish dignitaries and schoolchildren walking round the Greenwich Parish boundary – these walks were a regular feature at the time and reported on in detail in the local press.  In some places the boundary has changed since the 1850s and so in the last episode I left them in an area which is now in Lewisham,  over on the west bank of the Ravensbourne river – actually in the middle of the railway lines coming out of Lewisham Station and going to London Bridge and Nunhead. Today the Greenwich Lewisham boundary does not cross the Ravensbourne and so this episode will begin at those railway lines and, hopefully, get to where the current boundary is between Greenwich and Lewisham.

On the 1860s Ordinance Survey map the boundary is shown at the exact centre of where the railway lines coming out of Lewisham Station diverge - with the line to Nunhead curving up on the temporary military style bridge built in 1957.  I have been following the boundary from Greenwich via Deptford Bridge going generally southwards but at this point it took an abrupt eastward turn.  The line crosses the railway line coming out of Lewisham Station and then appears to follow what on the map look like field boundaries until it reaches the river. The report does not explain how the procession crossed the railway, and I can’t imagine that they could possibly have been walking about over the rails.

The newspaper report of the walk also doesn’t say how they got back across the Ravensbourne river.  Which is odd. On the 1860s OS map the boundary appears to cross at a point where there was a weir - part of the elaborate water management works for the Armoury Mill. Shown on the up- stream side of the weir are three separate streams and down-stream was a large mill pond.  There appears to be no sign of this today and the river now runs uninterrupted from Lewisham past the site of the old millpond and weir.  This was once an elaborate complex of water management and, I am advised, must have been very expensive to build.

Today the site of the weir where the old Greenwich boundary crossed the river seems to have been at the riverside end of Conington Road. The Docklands Light Railway now runs along the river bank and the site between it and the road is fenced off as a small square site with no buildings on it but it is apparently part of the modern ‘silk mills’ complex.  When this site was rebuilt – or when the railway was built – was there any investigation of this weir, pond and mill working area? The Archaeology Data Service tells me there were ‘desk tops’ of the Silk Mill itself and some other parts of the area but no apparent mention of the river or the mill and its expensive water management structures.

As for the history of mill here – it is a most important site which I covered in my book on Deptford Creek and three previous articles here. Much of the material came from Sylvia McCartney and John West’s book “The Lewisham Silk Mills.

 

Drastically summarised I said: “There had been a mill on the site since ‘time immemorial’ and it is probably one of the eleven mills in the Doomsday Book for Lewisham.   In 1299 'Toddlesmill' here was said to be a corn mill but by 1355 it was used for grinding metal. It became ‘the Armoury Mill under Henry VIII doing the heavier and rougher work for the Greenwich based Royal Armoury – making famous and unbelievably expensive armour for courtiers.  Under Elizabeth the workshops and mill were kept at work and in good order and this continued under James I.  However, under the Commonwealth in 1649 the Greenwich workshops were left to decay and it is thought that much of its equipment was removed by those locals who thought they might have a use for it.

 

In the 1750s it was taken over by a miller who produced bayonets, and other items of military use and through a succession of owners this continued and, later, guns were made here. In the early 19^th century it was suggested that it could become a purpose-built small arms factory to make guns and armaments for the Government. The old mill was demolished and a new factory was built – and this must have been when this expensive water management system was installed.   It turned out however that there were problems with the volume of water in the Ravensbourne.  It was realised that the site would not be able to cope with the amount of power needed for production and eventually it was decided to use a site at Enfield Lock where the fall of water was better.

 

In 1819 the Armoury Mill, with its equipment and workforce, moved to Enfield and the Lewisham site was auctioned off. It included a house, a warehouse, lodges, eight houses and many acres of land.  The mill itself was a two story weather boarded building with a slate roof.  There was a water wheel and all the necessary equipment to manage the water which ran the mill.  The area surrounding the building was encircled by a ‘venerable brick wall - stout and high’. Two iron cannon stood in front of the massive gate posts and they are now in front of the Manor House at Lee.  

 

After the mill was sold it was leased to a silk throwster – that is someone who turns raw silk into usable thread.  However soon the actual work done here was on ‘drawing’ gold and silver into wire and it became one of the main manufacturers of gold and silver lace thread in the country. Only water power was used and was said to be especially suitable for this work because of its regular action. 

 

In 1881 the mill was described as a “structure which could be mistaken for paper mill – ‘it is in pleasant grounds with approaches of water some acres an extent in front of it, with a stream which drives the middle wheel’.   It had probably been much like this when our civic procession passed through there in the 1850s - so why didn’t they mention it in the newspaper reports?  One reason was maybe because it was a high security site with the precious metals used in making metallic threads.

The report says that having crossed the Ravensbourne they came to ‘another stone, a boundary marker there since 1847’ and that the route then went ‘to a stone in the hedge of the mill premises’. They ‘entered the said premises by passing through the hedge’ then ‘kept to the right hand under the said hedge’ until ‘we reached the mill-stream where there is a cross.’  This seems a lot more complicated than what we can see if we follow the boundary line on the map.   Did the procession really ‘pass through a hole in the hedge’? Now that would have been quite something to see!  It can’t have done the hedge much good!  What sort of hedge was it?  Who owned it, and did they mind?   

They continue that they went ‘diagonally through the mill and out by the gates’.  Once more this doesn’t really reflect what is on the 1860s map which shows the boundary as a straight line from the weir at the river going into the road.  The procession going diagonally through the mill would again have been something to see!  They must have had special permission.

Next the procession ‘took the centre of the road until we enter the Lewisham Road’.   At this point at last they were where the old boundary merged with the current borough boundary and continues with it in a confusing way - as we will see. The route continues into Morden Hill until it reaches the junction with Lewisham Road.

Reaching Lewisham Road the report says ‘where we have a stone sunk in the centre, between the two roads’.  Well clearly that is there anymore and I wonder what has happened to all these stone boundary markers over the years!  Have all of them ended up in contractor’s skips – or are some still hidden unidentified in obscure corners?

The report continues ‘ then turning to the left’ – that is turning into Lewisham Road going back towards Greenwich . Then ‘we take the centre of the road to the entrance of what were formerly Loat's Pits’.  I am far from clear  where exactly this entrance was. Contemporary maps show a variety of turnings off Lewisham Road going into the pits but which is the actual entrance? I have a vague feeling that I've seen a photograph of an entrance with gates to the pits and if anyone can enlighten me I would be grateful.   I suspect it is the turning which later became Lethbridge Road.

Loat’s Pits was the area to the west of Lewisham Road which is currently under redevelopment as the Heathside Estate.   It was previously known as Heathside and Lethbridge with local authority flats built in what was clearly an old pit.  Until recently you could walk down Sparta Street but it is now blocked by a wall very near its junction with Lewisham Road. In the past you could get into the estate and see the cliff wall of the pit behind the flats. By the 1850s when the boundary procession passéd through the area Loat’s Pits had been closed for some time and I suspect were mothballed waiting for a buyer. Mary Loat had been bankrupted some 20 years earlier in the 1830s. I don't know the origins of the Loat family or their ownership of the site but it had been operated by them as a source of chalk for making ‘whiting’.  This was processed at a factory in Nine Elms, Vauxhall.  Mary had been married to Thomas Fentiman who seems to have been a building supplies merchant in Greenwich - among many other things.  He was also a partner of a Lancelot Loat and they were subcontractors for a number of public buildings in London and elsewhere. Most importantly the Loats had lime kilns on the Lewisham site - and the products were marketed through the Vauxhall factory. 

The next section of the boundary will hopefully take us up onto Blackheath itself and I’m afraid it is likely to be a bit confusing working out exactly how this procession of local dignitaries actually got there.

Thanks to Burt Reynolds of Watermill Hoppers for advice on the weir and mill pond