Not Ploughing on

The Plough's owners have put in a planning application to turn it into a shop selling 'second hand books [...] along with stationery, greeting cards and second hand items.'

That sound you hear is the echoing void of a campaign to save it. The Plough's been shut since June and was a sorry place for a while before: few customers and those few without the contacts, skills or money to get themselves heard. We went in once, awkwardly had a pint of not-real-ale and never went back.

Still, still, still. The Hornsey Road was here long before the Tudors, but this may be the oldest building on it and the stories attached to it will mean less if it is no longer a pub although the flats above will be worth more.

So here goes with three stories:

In 1823 Henry Pestell was arrested for stealing stealing eight waistcoats, fourteen handkerchiefs, a pair of trousers, a pair of shoes, eight pair of stockings, three shirts, three aprons, a ring, a pin, twelve pounds of tea, and four pounds of coffee; and selling the stuff in the Plough. He was nineteen. He was sentenced to death and transported, landing in New South Wales on 22 April 1824. The ship that took him there, the Guildford, disappeared in 1831 on the way back from Singapore.

In 1824 a Robert Fuller was acquitted of stealing a horse. His employer had sent him to Finchley to buy carnations and he'd taken the horse and stopped to have dinner with a friend in the Plough on the way. A witness testified to having met him on the Saturday morning on the Hornsey Road 'with some carnations in a wheel-barrow, but no horse'.

By 1846 Copus' Four Horse Omnibus hired out horses from the Plough Stables for bean-feasts (office party 19th century style), picnics, excursions, schools and weddings. They'd take you to any church in Islington.

More here.

Lower Holloway Sands and whatever happened to Leslie Compton

There are two posts on the Derelict London website about the old Hanley Arms and the damage that was done to it in the name of restoration (as M'Turk didn't quite say to Stalky 'Ruskin says that any man who'll restore a pub is an umitigated sweep'). 

 

I've tried to track down confirmation of the Compton rumour and pictures of the old Hanley arms and got nowhere. 

Here are the posts: 


John writes: 'the licensee during the 60s and I think 70s was one of the Compton brothers of cricketing fame not sure whether it was Denis or Lesley we used to have a couple of pints in there and then go a bit further up the road and have pie and mash'

Ian writes: 'This used to be a lovely pub with a wonderful ornate late Victorian fire surround and sparkling engraved glass all around the walls. I've no idea where it all went and the only current sign of the pubs past glory is the decorative wrought iron surrounding the entrance and above the fascia, what a shame .I remember going in there few years ago and was shocked to see that the glass had all disappeared and had been replaced with flock wall paper. It's not my local but I used to go to the art school at the top of the hill and have the occasional pint there on the way home. Very enjoyable environment to drink in then. He told me that he'd got the pub redecorated in exchange for the glass, or at least I think that's what he said. He seemed quite satisfied with the deal. God knows where it's all gone, beautiful stuff. I live in Holloway and have lived there for years and I'm quite amused at the new names given to areas like these: Crouch End Village, Crouch End Heights. I remember reading an article a few months ago from someone who lives in Gravesend, he said some places wear their names around their necks like a stone: Wormwood Scrubs, Pentonville, Holloway. I wonder how they'll muck around with Holloway when they get round to it, Holloway Bay, Lower Holloway Sands, Great North Avenue and so on maybe. The Globe Hotel opposite the Sobell has gone too, another great pub in its day. What I liked best about it was the heated foot rail at the bar. Wonderful on wet and cold evenings.'

Beloved Readers, do you remember more? Are any of you John or Ian?

You were the future once.

Full-on post zombie apocalypse

complete with rotting ephemera:

When/if it becomes a living shop again I hope they don't throw away the sign. 

Stained glass sleuthing

There's a paradox with memorials: they work as long as someone's alive who remembers you. After that they're only a record of your name.

The game then is finding out who that name belonged to. Here goes:

The starting point is a stained glass memorial/nativity scene in St. Saviour's on Hanley Road.

Memorial

The scroll says 'And she laid him in a manger/they came with haste toward the Babe'.

The footer text is 'To the glory of God and in loving memory of William Thomas Blinco who died on April 5th 1922 this window is dedicated by his widow and friends'.

The choice of scene isn't helpful. A specialist saint would've been more informative.

The name is good though. There can't be many Blincoes out there. 

The Land Registry brings up someone of that name who bought a timber yard in Mount Pleasant Road. He lived at 6 Sparsholt Road and called himself a timber merchant. I think we can assume that's him.

N.6 Sparsholt Road, 2013

This link takes you to Jan Cornelis Haccou's 'A Road by a Cottage', which was bequeathed to the National Gallery in 1922 by a William Thomas Blinco. I'm guessing the bequest was an inheritance tax deal. 

The painting is a sweet pastoral scene, the kind of thing that gets dismissed, often unfairly, as chocolate boxy. 

So there you are. A timber merchant, married (presumably happily but without children),  moderately successful and with conventional tastes in art. I wonder if William Thomas Blinco would have liked to be remembered like that, or if he had had wilder hopes. Even Blincoes can dream. 

A Caution to Mothers

I've been reading through old Islington Gazettes in the British Newspaper Archive and this story stood out for its thorough-going wrong-headedness. Note the bolded sections.

'Dr Lankester held an inquiry on Wednesday at the Hanley Arms, Hornsey Road, concerning the death of Susan Elizabeth Wyatt, aged thirty years, who committed suicide by cutting her throat.

The old Hanley Arms, now a mosque.

Alfred Wyatt of 4 Westmoreland Terrace, Hornsey Road, husband of deceased, said he was an omnnibus conductor. 

Deceased had had three children. Witness went to bed on Saturday night about eleven o'clock and deceased complained of depression of spirits. 

She had been in the habit of drinking, but she did not seem under the influence of drink on that night. She had a strange way and seemed to do things mechanically. 

At three o'clock on Sunday morning he was awoken by deceased getting out of bed. He told her it was to early to get up, and told her to see what time it was. She looked at the clock and told him and he then asked her to go to bed again. She got into bed and he fell asleep. 

When he woke at eight o'clock she was not in bed and he got up and went downstairs to the kitchen, where he discovered deceased with her throat cut. 

Witness called for assistance. Deceased had lately been fretting about the illness of her child and thought she should not be able to bring it up.

Dr R. Fouracres said he knew deceased and had attended her in her last confinement a year and eight months ago. He might remark that she suckled her child up to her death, and this would tend to produce insanity in women. It was a frequent cause.

He was called to deceased after death and found a large wound in her throat, which had divided the windpipe theere were some smaller wounds on the throat and some wounds alson on the breast wheich seemed to show an attempt to stab herself. The wounds were such as could only be inflicted by herself. 

Evidence having been given to show that Wyatt and his wife live harmoniously.

The coroner pointed out to the jury the evidence as to the suckling of the child. he thought it could not be too generally known, as a caution to mothers, that insanity was often produced by suckling a child so old. 

The jury returned a verdict of 'suicide while of unsound mind'.

Islington Gazette - Friday 24 November 1871

Context: Formula isn't poison. Babies fed on it (including me - preens) grow up fine. In the 1870s, however, the alternative to breastmilk was pap and the water round here was a petri dish of horribleness.

More context: That coroner, who comes across here as such a fool, was Dr Edwin Lankester. He helped rid London of cholera, and generally did more for humanity than I or you ever will.

I think the moral of the story is that however hard you try and however smart you are, there will be times when you make a complete ass of yourself.

The Most Healthy Spot Near London

'To be let. Unfurnished, on Lease, in Tollington Park - Hornsey Road, considered the most healthy spot near London, a first class residence, built entirely to order of the present owner, replete with every convenience, and containing 3 reception rooms, with boudoir, seven bedrooms, library, kitchens, and a housekeeper's room, hot and cold water on each landing and a large bath-room at the top of the house, a tastefully laid out and ornamental garden, a model stable with loose boxes and stalls, together with excellent coach-house. rent moderate. to view apply to Mr Carter, builder, Hornsey Road'

Morning Post - Thursday 2 August 1860, via the British Newspaper Archives

I'll take it.

'Harry, Harry come here'

This is a post about gun laws, violence and how things change and stay the same. 

 It's from the Sunday 3 January 1864 edition of Lloyd's weekly newspaper via the British Newspaper Archive:

'Considerable excitement was occasioned in the parish of Hornsey on Wednesday morning, by it's being announced that a young man had been killed in the Hornsey Road, out of feelings of jealousy, by one of his companions, but this fortunately, as far as can be discovered, is not true. 

Inquiries were at once set on foot by Inspector Langdon of the North division, and it was ascertained that a young man of the name of Banks had been shot in the Hornsey Wood-Lane, Seven Sisters road on Tuesday afternoon, and death had been instantaneous. It would appear that the deceased, in company with a young fellow of the name of Lamb, went out on Tuesday for a little sport, the young man Lamb carrying a gun when on the railway bridge near Hornsey Road the deceased got on a  heap of sand which was lying at the side of the road. 

At the moment the young man Lamb raised his gun to shoot at a small bird, but it being out of reach he lowered it and at that moment the deceased ran down the heap, and received the whole of the charge in the right side, just under his heart. 

The deceased fell, exclaiming 'Harry, Harry, come here', and then expired. Dr Baker was immediately on the spot and pronounced life extinct. On examining the body it was found that there was a hole in the side about the size of a crown piece. 

Lamb was taken into custory and when at the police station was charged with felonously causing the death of John Banks. He was cautioned by Inspector Langdon as to what he said in answer to the charge, when the prisoner replied that he was about to uncock his gun when the deceased passed in front, and the cock slipping the gun wen toff, and the man dropped. He was sorry for what he had done.

An inquest was held on Friday, when the jury returned a verdict of 'Accidental death' and at their request, the coroner admonished Lambert for his having caused his companion's death by his incautious use of fire-arms. The jury also passed a resolution, calling the attention of the police to the necessity of exercising more stringent powers in the apprehension and punishment of the numerous persons who are in the bait of frequenting with loaded guns and shooting in the fields and public roads in the neighbourhood.'

On not telling on Jack the Ripper

The half-dozen of you who've read every entry in this blog may remember Montagu Williams as one of the prosecutors in the Sidney Clay case. Sidney, the bastard child of a tobacconist and a dressmaker, was either murdered or killed by neglect. This, on the other hand, was Montagu:

He liked attention. He wrote about how the poor needed blankets, thought ladies should be allowed to wear bonnets at the theatre, went to Eton and fought at Sebastopol. Notice how polished his shoes are, how his trouser legs trail nearly to the ground and how glossy his hair is. I wonder if he dressed like that in court?

I've just realised this sounds like I don't like him. That's not it. He must have been a lovely man to have an affair with.

Anyway, in 1891, the year before he died, Montagu claimed that he knew who the Ripper was but couldn't tell. Here's the story:

'I have something to say in reference to the Whitechapel murders that 1 think will be read with interest by many of my readers. Without entering into the details of those horrible tragedies, I may mention that they all occurred within the Worship Street and Thames districts, and that, as I foresaw the possibility of the assassin, if arrested, being brought before me, I made it my business to personally visit all the scenes of the crimes, and to make what medical and other inquiries I thought desirable.

As my readers are aware, the murderer has not been arrested ; but a curious set of circumstances which tend, perhaps, to throw light upon the mystery came to my knowledge at the time.

For excellent reasons, I shall abstain, at any rate at present, from entering into the details of this matter.

It is not, however, that I lack the necessary permission of the person principally interested. He has placed in my possession all the documents relating to this matter, and has unreservedly given tile permission to make whatever use of them I like. The reasons for my reticence are concerned merely with the interests of justice.

I was sitting alone one afternoon, on a day on which I was off duty, when a card was brought to me, and I was informed that the gentleman whose name it bore desired that I would see him.

My visitor was at once shown in. He explained that he had called for the purpose of having a conversation with me with regard to the perpetrator, or perpetrators, of the East End murders. He had, he said, taken a very great interest in the matter, and had set on foot a number of inquiries that had yielded a result which, in his opinion, afforded an undoubted clue to the mystery, and indicated beyond any doubt the individual, or individuals, on whom this load of guilt rested.

My visitor handed me a written statement in which his conclusions were clearly set forth, together with the facts and calculations on which they were based ; and, I am bound to say, this theory-for theory it, of necessity, is-struck me as being remarkably ingenious and worthy of the closest attention.

Besides the written statement, this gentleman showed me copies of a number of letters that he had received from various persons in response to the representations he had made. It appeared that he had communicated his ideas to the proper authorities, and that they had given them every attention.

Of course, the theory set forth by my visitor may he a correct one or it may not. Nothing, however, has occurred to prove it fallacious during the many months that have elapsed since the last of this terrible series of crimes.

As I have said, I cannot take the reader into my confidence over this matter, as, possibly, in doing so I might be hampering the future course of justice. One statement, however, I may make, and, inasmuch as it is calculated to allay public fears, I do so with great pleasure. The cessation of the East End murders dates from the time when certain action was taken as a result of the promulgation of these ideas.'

My favorite Ripper theory still has Dr Watson at the culprit. Medical knowledge, criminal links, haring about rough parts of London. It's all very plausible.

Richard III the cabinet maker, or Hornsey Road on film

This post is thanks to Miss Annie, founder of the Stroud Green WI and regular on stroudgreen.org, who spotted the Hornsey Road cameo in that Richard III in the car park documentary.

If you're reading this before March 6 2013, then go here and fast-forward to 53:14.  If you're too late the story is that Richard's closest living descendant is a Canadian cabinet maker called Michael who works in the Belgravia Workshops (the same building as the picture framer) between Libertea and Hamlet's.

'It's funny history isnt it? I mean given a different set of circumstances I'd be looking for Michael in a some palace somewhere or a castle. But such is the strange course, we're here in North London. I mean, it's nice, but, you know what I mean.'

Channel 4 has a Hornsey Road habit. See here and here for proof.

Past and Present at Number 51

Augustus Egg (not a Wodehouse character - you're thinking of Gussie Fink-Nottle) painted a triptych called 'Past and Present'. In the first scene a woman is caught with her lover's letter, in the second her daughters weep in a garret, in the third she sleeps under a bridge.

This is the Hornsey Road version, played out in and around number 51:

Image from here

Both stories start with a woman taking a risk, although Veronica McGannon doesn't have much else in common with Egg's floozy. This Islington Tribune article describes a grandmother of nine who saw her first Arsenal game aged three and who instead of retiring opened Vee's bistro opposite the Emirates. I like the sound of Vee's Bistro, but the Great Recession closed it before I moved to Islington.

Number 51 lay quiet for months and months and months 'walls continued upright, bricks met neatly, floors were firm, and doors were sensibly shut; silence lay steadily'.* Then homeless people turned the recessed doorways into shelters, and then the doorways were boarded over to stop them. The second scene looks like this:

Number 51, January 2013

The third scene is set about about fifty metres south of Number 51:

Under Hornsey Road bridge, January 2013

I don't know how many people are sleeping in that pile of mattresses and bags under the Hornsey Road bridge, or why they've ended up there or how long they'll stay, or even if they're the same people who were sleeping in the doorway of what used to be Vee's. I could ask them, but I doubt they want to be asked.

I'll leave you with a quote from that 2008 Islington Tribune article: 'in a letter to the council, neighbour Sheila Stewart complained about the possible noise and mess the bistro could attract. She said: “I do not wish for my life to be turned upside down for the sake of a social venue. I am already penalised by living right near the stadium, because I cannot have visitors while a match is on".

*Shirley Jackson, The Haunting of Hill House, go read it.

Before the Andover Estate: scarlet fever, small pox, English cholera and diptheria

If you look into the Andover and the Six Acres Estates' past you'll hear them described in dry officialese as 1970s slum clearance projects. In 1885 the London Standard ran an article, nowhere near the front page, that shows what those slums had been.* Here it is:

'Dr G. Danford Thomas held an inquest at the Islington's Coroner Court as to the death of Daniel Hemley, aged 6 and a half, lately living with his parents at 51, Alsen-road, Holloway. 

Fanny Hemley, the mother, stated that she had formerly resided at Andover street, from which place she removed, owing to the occupants of the house and the neighbours being all down with various zymotic [infectious] diseases. 

The child was well until Wednesday last, when he complained of pains in his head, and feeling sick, on Thursday saying his neck pained him. On Sunday Witness gave him a powder and put him to bed, but he died the next morning at three o'clock. 

Witness lost a child when at Andover road from diphtheria, and an inquest was held. Mrs Hutchings, landlady of the last Witness, said that she formerly resided at 4, Andover street, Hornsey road and there, owing to the bad drainage all her children were stricken down by disease. 

The drains in the next house were stopped up and the stench was so abominable that it was hardly bearable. The children had had scarlet fever, small pox, English cholera and diptheria there, all these diseases being traceable, in Witness' opinion, to the bad drainage. Witness notified the landlord of the state of the house and he had it disinfected when she left. 

Dr T. H. Wagstaff, of 19, Andover road, stated that he was called to the child, who was then dead, death being due, he found, on making an autopsy, to a severe form of diptheria. 

It arose, in Witness' opinion, from the effects of bad drainage. He believed that the houses were built thirty years ago, under the old system of combination drainage, the effect being that the effluent in one house passed into the next, any foul gas generated in the one passing through the next two or three. The system was not allowed under the New Building Act, and the houses should, Witness thought, be looked to. 

Witness had at present two young people aged 19 and 22 respectively, under his care who were suffering from typhoid fever, and they came from the same infected area. No cases came from the other side of the Hornsey Road.  

Dr Thomas said that he had had many cases from the same district, and in each instance a notice had been sent to the Vestry, but no action had been taken in the matter. 

The following verdict was agreed to unanimously: 'That the deceased was found dying, and did die, from the mortal effects of diphtheria; and the Jury having heard in evidence of the prevalence of this disease and other zymotic diseases in the neighbourhood of the place of the death, desire urgently to call the attention of the Vestry to the matter, in the hope that a thorough inspection of the drainage may be made.'

Thanks again to the British Library's online newspaper archive. And many many thanks to plumbing and medicine.

*As noted in comments I've been lazy and not looked into what happened between this trial and the estates being built. I'm not even sure how to find out what happened - suggestions very welcome. 

Living in the chapel

Around the turn of the last century there were Methodists everywhere on the Hornsey Road. The Spiritualist church, the police station and this blue building on Bavaria Road all used to be chapels.

Not a chapel, December 2012.

The blue building got turned into flats and the top flat went on sale with The Modern House last month. It sold quickly. Shame, because I wish I could live there.

A

B

C

'The apartment was the subject of an award-winning conversion by West Architecture in 2006, and would be ideal for use by an artist or a designer.The project was given a Wood Award in 2006, with the judges commenting: “The delicacy of the structure and the contrast of the steel and timber make this project a delight.” It was also shortlisted for the AJ Small Projects Award, and featured in the book Detail in Contemporary Kitchen Design by Virginia McLeod.'

I keep on thinking about Methodists and Hanley Arms arms patrons glaring at each other and how in the end both sides lost.

Dr Williams' Pink Pills for Pale People

Today's post is thanks to the British Newspaper Archive and the Saturday 30 November 1901 issue of the Essex Newsman, and proves that alliteration can cure all. 

Fireman's Career Ruined by Rheumatism. 

James Pederson, London Fire Brigade, who lives at 6 Rhodes Place, Hornsey Road, London, N. recounted the following facts to a Weekly Dispatch reporter:

I was one of the most powerful men in the brigade, stood six feet one, and weighed sixteen stone.

 I have good cause to remember an outbreak at  a large printers in Barbican. I got soaked to the skin with hot water thrown back from the building. For three hours I was on duty without a dry stitch on me. The next morning I found I had taken a chill, which developed into high fever and influenza. 

I was as prostrate and helpless as a baby. It was two months before i was able to put a foot out of bed, but I pulled through and put in the rest of my time until I had my second serious illness: I caught another chill, which developed inot rheumatic fever. 

This was followed later on by a third illness- the most serious of all- and the after effects finally settled in my feet and ankles. for 14 months I was an invalid, just able to crawl about, and although I saw many doctors and specialists, none of the seemed to be do me any good. 

In 1897 I was invalided out of the brigade. The doctors certified that I was Totally Unfit for further service, because I was suffering from incurable rheumatism, gout, dropsy, and anemia.

 I do not exaggerate when I say that every bone in my body ached; my ankles finally swelled to double their proper size. I gradually dwindled down until I was a mere skeleton. About this time my wife read of a wonderful cure by Dr Williams' pink pills for pale people. She brought the pills home and I began to take them. 

When I got to the end of the second box. I found that although for something like 2 or 3 years I could not move either of my arms, I could bend my elbows quite easily and without pain/...] I grew quite stout , and my old good spirits came back to me. I am 38 yrs of age, and I feel as strong and as hearty as I did when I was 20. This remarkable return of health is entirely due to Dr Williams' PP, which rescued me from a life of misery and an early grave".'

For more British Newspaper Archive stories, see here, here, here, here and here.

The university that wasn't.

The corner of Seven Sisters and Hornsey Road has a bike shop, a Chinese supermarket, and a pub that survived a Zeppelin attack.

It doesn't have a university. It never had a university. It is unlikely ever to have a university. 

The 'American University in London'

It does have a building with a plaque. The plaque, just about visible in the photograph above, says 'American University in London'. 

AUL was never accredited anywhere, and could no more confer degrees than I can (though if anyone's interested in a Hornsey Road MA my fees are reasonable and attendance requirements not onerous). 

Its website is still up. It shows good-looking young people smiling and skates over AUL's premises being a few rooms over a bookies. 

Note the crest with House of Commons-y portcullis

It recruited up to the 2011/12 academic year even though AUL was fined in 2006 for 'misleading prospective students by deceptively representing itself as a university in spite of lacking proper accreditation' and I can find no evidence that they became accredited after. 

The plaque's still there too. 

... by any other name

The police said Josie Daly was 'in the premier league of London madams', making millions out of the Aqua Sauna on Hornsey Road and two other saunas (only one of which had a sauna). 

She claimed to be shocked, shocked that anything illegal was going on in her establishments. Then she was fined £2m and opened a bottle of champagne to celebrate having dodged a jail sentence. 

The story made the nationals, who wrote about her house (named 'Bunty's corner' after a dog buried in the garden), her white Rolls-Royce, the 1000-1500 men who visited her saunas every week and (magnificently) that she had advertised in the British Transport Police's official magazine.  

The journalists made the Aqua Sauna sound like it belonged in: 

A) an x-rated Whisky Galore: 'Daly was wheeled from court past flowers and pot plants from well-wishers stacked against a wall. Messages included one from ''a customer" which read: "Keep smiling, the end is near." '; 

B) an N7 Lilya 4 Ever: 'Fiona was 21 when she worked for Daly. "She was the worst brothel owner I ever worked for," she said. "OK, so she didn't rape or beat me like most of the male pimps did, but she was cruel and nasty. We had to work 12-hour shifts and ask her permission to go and buy a sandwich." '; or 

C) Juvenal's Satires: 'one would suppose that in a "grown-up" world, there would be no hiddenness, no shame, no furtive visits to Josie Daly's massage establishments'

I don't know which of these takes is closest to the truth. I can guess and you can probably guess what my guess would be, but my biases aren't evidence. I do know, however, that all this happened in 2000 and that I took this photograph last month: 

They didn't even change the name.