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The Building Blocks of Albert Hall Mansions

Albert Hall Mansions Today 

The imposing confidence of the red-brick, dutch-gabled, mansion blocks that surround the Royal Albert Hall in Kensington belie the truth, that their construction was accompanied by suspicion and there was doubt that they would be a social or commercial success. The Albert Hall Mansions were the first of their kind in Great Britain located overlooking Kensington Gardens, designed by the renowned architect R Norman Shaw for the developer Thomas Hussey.

Albert Hall Mansions in 1881 in The Building News

The new design concept came about because good quality accommodation in London was scarce for the middle-classes who could not afford a large town house and were seeking more of a pied-a-terre for when they were in the capital. The beauty of Norman Shaw’s design was it provided an impressive façade to complement the magnificent Royal Albert Hall next door while also providing maximum accommodation. Albert Hall Mansions was a real social and architectural departure for the British as apartment living or multi-occupancy in one building had been associated with the lower classes, charitable housing and most significantly, favoured by foreigners, particularly the French! Such was the suspicion of adopting “french ways” in those days. However it would seem that beauty and utility were achieved and the publication The Building News wrote in 1881, "This building, which has lately been erected in Kensington is situated close to the Royal Albert Hall ... it will be observed that the front or north side is divided into seven stories, whilst the back portion has nine floors in the about the same height. The object of this is to place the whole of the principle or reception rooms so as to overlook Hyde Park, and by the lesser number of stories to obtain greater height, whilst the back of the building being occupied by bed and dressing rooms, kitchens, &c., a less height, such as 10ft. 6in. or 11ft., is for all practical purposes as good; and by this arrangement a considerable amount of accommodation is gained... The portion already built, and shows in our perspective view, consists of three entirely separate blocks. In each block are eight large separate suites, and in the upper part eight smaller suites, which may easily be altered into four larger suites, if desired. Each of the larger suites is complete in itself, with the front door opening from the principal stair, and the back door from the service stair. Two lifts are provided: one for passengers and one for coals, provisions &c., situated close to the tradesmen's entrance."

Plans and Sections from The Survey of London

Because of this uncertainty Albert Hall Mansions was built in 3 sections, the last two only constructed once the first block was fully occupied. Mr Hussey should not have worried though. Apartments were quickly snapped up! It was a great success and soon there were mansion blocks in Mayfair, Regent's Park, Marylebone, Maida Vale, St John's Wood, Belsize Park, Battersea, Fulham and Chiswick. The collective concern that living in a mansion block was a French idea seemed to have been forgotten.

Burton's Burrswood

Burrswood Hospital © Ellen Leslie 2014

My step father died a few weeks ago, after fighting a cruel and unforgiving brain tumour over ten months. One small shining light through that whole desperate time was his palliative care at a most peaceful and inspiring place; Burrswood Hospital in Groombridge, near Tunbridge Wells. It is a Christian hospital, welcoming patients of all faiths and philosophies and offering rehabilitation, respite care and also palliative care. I told myself at the time that I would write about this amazing place to highlight the fantastic work carried out at Burrswood and, as this is a blog about historic buildings, to tell you about the beauty of the architecture as well.

In addition to the fantastic medical care, it was the love and kindness at Burrswood, shown not only to my step father in his last days, but to those of us with him, that truly amazed me. That love and kindness, by everyone who worked there, would have been welcome within any space but at Burrswood we were blessed with being in a most beautiful building as well, which only helped to enhance the feeling of peace and calm.

In the grounds of Burrswood Hospital ©Ellen Leslie 2014

The house was built in the 1830s by one of my favourite architects, Decimus Burton. He had also been responsible for large swathes of Regent’s Park in London, The Calverley Estate in Tunbridge Wells as well as the West Marina at St Leonards-on-Sea. The impact of seeing Burrswood for the first time could be imposing, if it wasn't for the soft, yellow warmth of the ashlar sandstone, the overall calm, solidity of the structure, not to mention the Gothick windows and the tudor-style headers! There is a uniformity in the design and yet the variation in roof line, setting of the individual bays and assorted decorative details, gives the feeling of a building that might have evolved, if Burton hadn't designed it as a single piece.  

The interior of the main building is also pleasing with fine panelling and a magnificent cantilevered winder staircase in the main reception. There have been later additions to the building, namely a church and a hospital wing, but these do not detract from its overall appeal and they enable Burrswood to function in its modern purpose. In addition to the medical care offered at Burrswood, it is possible for anyone to visit. There you can see the Church of Christ the Healer, built in the 1960s. You can also take tea in their tea room “Bocky’s” and enjoy the beautiful grounds and setting. Burrswood even offers swimming lessons! It is all part of the welcoming nature of the place.

I miss my step father terribly, but I take solace knowing that he left this life while in the best hands; cared for by people who demonstrate the greatest compassion.

Burrswood is a charity that receives no government assistance. If you would like to know more about it and even consider donating click here-> Burrswood.org.uk.

Church of Christ the Healer at Burrswood Hospital ©Ellen Leslie 2014

Central rear range at Burrswood Hospital ©Ellen Leslie 2014

The ground of Burrswood Hospital with modern hospital wing to the right, echoing Burton's original design ©Ellen Leslie 2014

Christmas at 18 Folgate Street

©Ellen Leslie

Just this week, I was taking a little seasonal stroll around Spitalfields, in London. The area is an architectural and historical enclave of Georgian townhouses that has been the homes and workshops for many waves of immigrants over hundreds of years, none more so that the refugee Flemish silk weavers in the 18^th and 19^th centuries. Once nearly lost to “progress” and City developers, the area was saved in the 1970s by a concerted campaign, led by the poet Sir John Betjeman, amongst others. If there were ever an example of the beauty and benefit of saving historic quarters in this modern life, it is Spitalfields.

While on the walk I found myself in Folgate Street and outside the unique home of the late Dennis Severs. He bought the house in 1979 and set about stripping the unprepossessing layer of 20^th century living back to how it would have looked 150-200 years ago. But what makes 18 Folgate Street special is that it doesn’t just show what it looked like, it also shows how it smelled, tasted and felt as well. It is staged as if it is still lived in, with no modern heating or lighting, which adds to its sense of authenticity.

The house is open to the public, but not every day and most of the time you need to book in advance. But luck was on my side. As my partner and I looked soulfully through the window at the warm and welcoming lit fire in the kitchen in the basement and pondered the next available tour times, David the curator stepped outside to tidy up before that evening’s visit. We got chatting, or more truthfully, my less-shy partner led the conversation and before we knew it David kindly invited us in.

It certainly was a bombardment for all the senses. You walk through the front door and leave the present day behind. We were transported back to the 18^th and 19^th centuries with the rooms set as if the Georgian and Victorian occupants had just left the rooms, with food and drink laid out, beds unmade and clothes discarded. The house is arranged with a story. The story is fictional but historically possible with the lives of a family (5 generations), visitors and tenants over the 150 years or so, from the 1760s to the beginning of the First World War. In the kitchen David was just cooking a Christmas hash on the small cast iron range for the “tenants” that supposedly live in sparse circumstances in the attic rooms. That food was to be laid out later for the evening tour. We sat around the warming range and talked about the house and Dennis Severs’ desire to bring people as close to the historical period as possible. We agreed it was virtually time travel. After we had steeped ourselves in the sights, sounds and smells of the dark and cosy kitchen, David showed us the rest of the house from the recycled medieval stoneware in the back basement that they would have used for building repairs, to the grand salon on the first floor, the main bedrooms on the 2^nd floor and the meagre tenant attic space above. Each room gave an immediate sense of being in the past.

© 18 Folgate Street Website

In truth, it is difficult to fully convey the magic of visiting 18 Folgate Street in a simple blog. You need to see it for yourself.  If you live in or are visiting London, this is a must. Booking in advance is important. You can enjoy it by day, but maybe more magically, you can experience it at night, all lit by candlelight.

You can read more about 18 Folgate Street here.  There was also a video of the house here, with an interview with Dennis Severs before he died in 1999.

More information about Spitalfields, its life and preservation can be seen on the Spitalfields Life website and through the East End Preservation Society. 

©Ellen Leslie

The Curious Incident of the Apollo Ceiling Falling In

A BBC journalist rang me last night to talk about the collapse of the ceiling at the Apollo Theatre. He wanted to know more about these kinds of buildings and what could have caused the collapse. But he opened the conversation by stating what he thought was the obvious fault; that these buildings are old and therefore no longer safe. God help us all in the heritage /building conservation business if that was the prevailing and accepted attitude!

I put him right immediately. It is not the age of a building that is the danger; it is the lack of investment, care and maintenance that poses the biggest risk to these beautiful buildings and to people using them.

The Apollo Theatre was built in 1901 by Lewen Sharp and is in the most stunning “Free Renaissance” style. It is a temple to the arts at a time when building standards were second to none. I said to the journalist that it is the sheer quality and strength of a Victorian/Edwardian building that will always make it a number one choice for me.  

But that does not mean these structures can exist without ongoing TLC by owners with legislative and financial help by the authorities. The Apollo takes nearly 800 people per performance, twice a day and 6 days a week! Such a human load would impact even modern buildings. Owners need to invest in their historic assets and government needs to help by easing the financial burden on repair and maintenance costs.

It is a mercy that the casualties were relatively small last night. It could have been far worse. Will this incident make owners and authorities alike redouble their efforts to ensure this doesn't happen again? We can but hope. 

The Beautiful and Enduring Houses of The Weald

Wealden Hall House - Bayleaf House © Weald and Downland Open Air Museum

I’ve just had an enquiry to research the history of a 15^th century Wealden hall house in Kent. This is a type of building that I have quite a bit of experience of and one that gives me enormous pleasure to research. Their innate timbered beauty, the quality of construction from so many centuries ago as well as their sheer survival makes these buildings a favourite of mine. As the name suggests they are usually found in The Weald in south east England. This is an area between the North and South Downs that runs from Kent to Hampshire, through Surrey and Sussex. Of course nothing is that cut and dry and you can find Wealden houses in Essex too.

A typical Wealden Hall House © Richard Haddlesey www.medievalarchitecture.net

Wealden hall houses were usually constructed in 4 bays with the 2 central ones enclosing a double-height hall with a central hearth. The smoke from this would escape through holes or specially made louvers in the roof. At one end of the hall there would be a screen, hiding a cross passage behind and beyond that two rooms known as the Buttery and the Pantry; the service rooms. At the other end the ground floor rooms tended to be the Parlor, where guests would be received, possibly with business or with matters to discuss; hence “Parlor” from the French “Parler” – To Speak.

Upstairs, the two end bays would provide the private family area such as sleeping quarters. These were known as the Solar and would be jettied, hanging over the two ends of the ground floor. Eventually a floor was inserted to create a full-length first floor and the central hearth was moved towards the cross passage or outer wall to create a fireplace and chimney stack. Initially, these timber-framed buildings were thatched and would have had wattle and daub walls. As time went on these would have been replaced with tiles on the roof and brick infill in the walls. The 18^th century was also popular to add an entire brick skin around the house. This is why often, timber framed buildings can remain hidden and are still being discovered today.

To illustrate, here are 2 examples of Wealden houses that I have researched. Both have changed significantly since the time of their construction, but beneath them are surviving Wealden Halls. The first is in Wadhurst (on the Kent and East Sussex border) and another on the far end of the Weald, in Kirdford West Sussex. Despite the extensive change and alteration in their long lives they still hold the fundamental dimensions and structure of their original construction. The house in Wadhurst is 14^th century and still retains soot-blacked beams in the roof, from the days of the double-height hall and the central hearth.

Wadhurst ©Ellen Leslie

The Kirdford house is a little more recent, around 1585 and had been in such a bad state of repair it was nearly demolished in the 1990s. Thankfully it was saved.

Kirdford©Ellen Leslie

So the Wealden Hall House endures. It was a popular style of construction then, and was a form that took centuries to evolve and eventually be replaced by new styles of architecture.

If you want to get up close with such buildings, visit The Weald and Downland Open Air Museum in West Sussex. This museum has rescued and reconstructed an amazing collection of traditional buildings from the south east of England, including Bayleaf House (see top picture).

Architecture for All

Brighstone 1950s Holiday Chalets ©Ellen Leslie

Brighstone 1930s Holiday Chalets ©Ellen Leslie

Yesterday, I came across some simple, brightly-coloured chalets at a holiday camp called Brighstone, on the Isle of Wight. It brought to mind something that the architectural historian Nikolaus Pevsner wrote in his book An Outline of European Architecture.  “A bicycle shed is a building; Lincoln Cathedral is a piece of architecture. Nearly everything that encloses space on a scale sufficient for a human being to move in is a building; the term architecture applies only to buildings designed with a view to aesthetic appeal." That was in 1943, and I think it is safe to say that today the definition of what architecture is has changed. Our view of what is aesthetically appealing has expanded, reflecting our more inclusive and equal society. 

Time was when “architecture” was the preserve of cathedrals, castles, manor houses and other “polite” constructions, usually with a named architect or builder connected with it; or it related to the revered designs of ancient Greece or Rome. Buildings associated with the common people rarely achieved “architecture” status in the eyes of Pevsner or his contemporaries. Not that he didn’t appreciate the prosaic, but, in short, a sixteenth century cow shed was a building and a sixteenth century castle was architecture.

The evolution and understanding of history has moved from that of kings and queens, wars, battles and landmark events, to include the lives of the ordinary people and this has impacted on our approach to architecture. Once upon a time you would visit a stately home and only see the grand rooms of the aristocratic family who had lived there; now seeing the kitchens and servants quarters is equally popular. Today the function of the building and therefore how it was designed or constructed gives it architectural kudos rather than merely whether it had high status or was visually or aesthetically appealing.

Back to Brighstone, this holiday camp is possibly the oldest surviving holiday camp in the UK, dating to 1932. Echoes of the comedy series "Hi-De-Hi" exist in the neat rows of brightly painted chalets, so specific of a time and a purpose. Many of the chalets date to the 1930s and are still very much used by holiday makers. Brighstone also has chalets and washing areas built in the 1950s with a very distinctive "Festival of Britain" flavour to their appearance. I would venture that Pevsner would not deem the chalets of Brighstone as architecture, but in our more egalitarian age, I think it would be difficult not to!

Brighstone 1950s Holiday Chalets ©Ellen Leslie

Brighstone 1930s Holiday Chalets ©Ellen Leslie

Of Hearth & Home

Penshurst Place with Central Hearth

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

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

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

An Early Hooded Fireplace

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

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

16th Century 1st Floor Brick Wealden Fireplace 

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

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

Bricks and Mortals

Discovering the history of the previous owners, and or guests to your property can be fascinating, but also sometimes grisly. Can you handle the truth? It is a wonderful thing, unlocking the history of your house. Whether you commission an historian like me, or decide to make the journey yourself; there is a sense of anticipation and excitement about what will be discovered. Is the house a real medieval hall house? Does the cellar belong to a much older building that had existed on the site before? Who built the house in the first place? What was it used for? Will the rumours about a famous resident or visitor prove to be true?

But when you are investigating the history of a building, you can't pick and choose the information. The complete story of a house would include the highs and the lows, the good times and the bad. Are you prepared to find out that your home has a darker past?

In 2012 I had three assignments in a row, where there was either a suicide, a suspicious death or financial ruin (which often preceded the former). Even though these properties were not mine, when researching you can easily become emotionally attached. And although finding the untimely and sad end to people's lives can be considered "run of the mill" in my work, I always take a sharp intake of breath when the evidence is revealed! It can be upsetting, particularly if you have followed the fortunes of a particular person from their birth to their final days.

One of the properties I researched was a mill in Buckinghamshire. I followed local press stories about the owner of the house from 1830 to the 1870s. He seems to have been a real character, either ending up in local tavern brawls, taking fellow local businessmen to court for various perceived transgressions, or one of his businesses catching fire (more than once) or even his own bankruptcy. The trail of his financial demise led to the day after he officially lost his fortune. The coroner's report which I found on Ancestry.co.uk confirmed that as a result of "intoxication", he had fallen into the river next to the mill. If that wasn't enough, 10 years later, his brother-in-law who had taken over the running of the mill had taken his own life in a first class railway carriage from London to Carlisle. 

Another house I researched was an 18th century long house on the South Downs in Sussex. A family had been the tenant farmers of land covering hundreds of acres for hundreds of years. I had traced their tenure from the tender early days in the 1630s up until 1913. The family was wealthy and well-established in the area. But this began to unravel when the head of the family, in 1844 was drowned off the south coast aged just 42. Things didn't really improve after that. Finally, in 1913 after over 10 years of rent arrears the patient landlord had to call in the debt. After over 250 years of farming that land, the family were forced to leave, the head of the family was declared bankrupt and even though his son took over the lease, within the year the house it was up for sale again.

The final example was an 18th century country house in Gloucestershire. From its construction in the 1780s it was occupied by a string of tenants and in 1903 the new tenants were a newlywed couple.  Local press in 1905 reported in lurid detail the tragic story of the wife, who following the birth of her first child had killed herself with a knife in the house. With the benefit of modern medicine and psychiatry for us in 2013 it is easy to see she had been suffering from post natal depression.

I always ask my clients, before beginning the research, whether they would like to have the "warts and all" story of their house; having said that, very few say no. Even where I am researching just the structural evolution of the house, more than the social side, most home owners decide to know all the gruesome details. Would you?

This first appeared  in countrylife.co.uk in January 2013

Arts & Crafts On Sea

East Court - Victoria Parade, Ramsgate (© Ellen Leslie)

The English seaside never ceases to surprise me when it comes to architecture. But it shouldn't really as people have gravitated to the coast for health, recreation and inspiration since at least the 18th century!  The variety of architecture in English seaside towns reflects the evolution of a place and none more so than in Ramsgate on the east Kent coast.

Of course, Ramsgate is most famous for The Grange, the home of Augustus Pugin, one of our most celebrated 19th century architects. The town also has an amazing collection of 18th and 19th century townhouses in their typical seaside distressed elegance and if you look closely, there are small tucked away cottages of an earlier century. However, this weekend I wasn't prepared for East Court up on Victoria Parade, north of the town.

The house shouts Arts and Crafts (my architectural weakness) sitting in among more prosaic Victorian terraced houses and streamlined 1930s buildings.  The main block stands over two floors with an additional attic level. The long window range on this latter level facing the sea is particularly striking as are the other jettied windows. What cannot be ignored are the green (Westmoreland) slates in a fish scale setting on the exterior walls and roofs which contrast beautifully with the red brickwork on the ground floor and chimney stacks. This immense house also boasts its own matching stable block. It also stands out with the intriguing initials "WHW" stamped on the rainwater hopper on the front of the house. Obviously the initials of the person who commissioned the house.  

However, what was particularly exciting was that I had seen many of the specific architectural features before. I recalled a Lutyens house I researched many years ago, near Godalming.  That house was one of Lutyen’s earliest commissions, dating to 1891. So I gingerly put a similar date on this seafront construction.  There was the same “bottle-bottom” glazed front door, the heavily studded oak side door and the timbered verandah overlooking the sunken garden; all very familiar. But it didn't feel completely Lutyens. Early Lutyens was more Tudorbethan. This was far more sophisticated. What also puzzled me were the ground floor Venetian windows, which I would date as slightly older than works by Lutyens. The last time I saw this specific design of fenestration was in Cadogan Square in the centre of London, which was built in the 1870s and 1880s. But I knew Lutyens is not necessarily associated with its Queen Anne style or Flemish architecture.  But, what I found out would make perfect sense.

The bottle-bottom glazed front door reminiscent of early Lutyens designs (© Ellen Leslie)

(© Ellen Leslie)

This Grade II house was designed by the architects Sir Ernest George and Harold Ainsworth Peto for William Henry Wills (1st Lord Winterstock) in 1889/90. In later years it went on to be a nursery and a school. The George and Peto partnership was one of the most prolific and successful architectural practices in London in the 1880s (although they also worked all over the country). The Cadogan Square link held true as George and Peto were responsible for several  buildings in that square and nearby streets. But East Court is certainly a departure from the “Pont Street Dutch” of Cadogan Square and the “Tudorbethan” style they favoured for their country clients. In fact I'd say East Court has ingredients of both those styles but heavily coated with the burgeoning popularity of Arts and Crafts.  And what of Lutyens? The young architect had been a paying apprentice at the George and Peto practice just one year before East Court was built. So the question is does East Court carry Lutyens contributions or was the house I researched in Godalming an homage to George and Peto. Maybe we will never know. 

Original Drawing of East Court ((© RIBA Library)

Road to Nowhere

Royal Avenue Looking North 2013 (© Ellen Leslie)

Royal Avenue Looking South 2013 (© Ellen Leslie)

At weekends I like to explore little historic pockets of London. Yesterday I checked out the peaceful streets behind the bustling King's Road in Chelsea.  One of the curiosities I found was a beautiful avenue of Horse Chestnut trees lining a long gravelled open space with gullies either side. The trees were flanked by the fine stuccoed townhouses synonymous with this part of London. Usually, there is a private garden in the middle of these elegant spaces; but not here. What made it different? I checked the street name “Royal Avenue”.  Looking south the trees stopped opposite a fine set of gates that lead to Burton Court and The Royal Hospital (a 17th century home for army veterans established by Charles II and designed by Sir Christopher Wren).  At the other end it met with the buzzing and trendy Kings Road.

1797 Map by Cary, showing "White Stiles"

Looking into this curious yet pretty arrangement, I found that Royal Avenue also owed its existence to Sir Christopher Wren. When it was laid out in the late 17th century there were no houses lining it. But looking further into the history of this small stretch of road, there seems to be a discrepancy between when it was built, for whom and why.

Royal Avenue by William Evelyn Osborn 1900 (© Tate)

The plaque displayed on the site says the Avenue was sponsored by King Charles II, but that on his death in 1685 there was no more money to continue its development. Others say, and they are possibly more reliable sources, that it was built in the early 1690s for William III and Mary II as a direct carriageway  from The Royal Hospital to their new residence Kensington Palace (previously Nottingham House). However, why it went no further than the King’s Road is not known, although lack of funds is the most probable reason.

By 1748 the short road was known as White Stiles, because of the white fencing that lined the avenue, but was eventually renamed Royal Avenue in the early 19th century when the town houses were built around it. Famous residents of Royal Avenue include Fanny Cornforth artist's model and muse of Dante Gabriel Rossetti who lived there 1869-1877 and  the film director, Jospeh Losey who moved to the UK in the 1950s to avoid the McCarthy Witch Hunts. One little additional finding .... Avenue Road is the fictional home of James Bond.

Fanny Cornforth

Butcher Cumberland Comes Clean!

©Ellen Leslie

There was once a time when I never missed any changes to the London urban landscape. Those were the days when virtually all my research work was carried out within the six London transport zones. But now that I work all over the country, keeping tabs on new developments (happening at an alarming rate) in the centre of town, is trickier.   But last week I had to visit the Howard de Walden estate, just north of Oxford Street. I walked through Cavendish Square, close to Oxford Circus and was surprised to sense the fresh smell of soap. Believe you me, in this part of the world, soap is the last thing you expect! Also something was different about the square. I’ve known it all my life. What was it? The soap happened to be a clue.

For years there had been a large, late 18^th century stone plinth in the middle of the square, dedicated to the Duke of Cumberland (1721-1765).  This third son of George II had defeated Bonnie Prince Charlie and the Jacobites at the Battle of Culloden (1746). This victory made him extremely popular for a short time, but it was his “pacification” of the Jacobites, his unbending punishment of any enemy sympathiser, that earned him the name “Butcher Cumberland”.

Despite his latter unpopularity the plinth, with a statue of the Duke of Cumberland on horseback on top, erected by his small but dedicated group of supporters, wasn’t removed until nearly 100 years later in 1868. The plinth remained, and that is how I remembered the square.

When I walked through last week though, the statue of “Butcher Cumberland” and horse had been “returned”. But something wasn’t quite right. The surface looked overly weather worn as if it had stood there fighting the elements for nearly 250 years …. and it smelt of soap. 

It transpired that it is in fact  a soap sculpture, created by South Korean artist Meekyoung Shin. Entitled, “Written in Soap, A Plinth Project”, it was erected in July last year and will be there for a year, so you still have a few months to go and see it for yourself. The purpose of the fast-eroding statue is to examine the passage of time, as it weathers through all four seasons of the year.

© theartnewspaper.com

Could this be the way forward for other statues of controversial individuals? Put up a soap carving for a few months and as it erodes before our eyes, we would be coerced to consider the reputation of the person depicted, whether the final analysis is good or bad ….

©Ellen Leslie

2012 - A Year in the Life of a Buildings Historian

The Somerset Vicarage Pre-Victorian Addition

Well, what a year 2012 has been! Jubilees and Olympics aside,  it really hasn't stopped and my work has taken me all over the country researching the history of buildings, predominantly to support planning applications for listed buildings, but also for the owners to simply understand their historic home better. I have also been giving talks on house histories, architecture as well as “How To Read Your Church”, to various groups around the country.

1700 Map of Aylesford by Abraham Walter

Buildings I have been privileged to uncover in 2012 include: An early 18^th century farmhouse in Hertfordshire with links to King James I; a late 18^th century mill house in Buckinghamshire with tragic tales of bankruptcy and disaster, but with a history that stretched back to the 9^th century and an 18th century farmhouse near Tewkesbury in Gloucestershire. A project that particularly stood out was a beautiful vicarage in Somerset, ostensibly a Victorian structure with earlier, surviving evidence that went back as far as the 14^th century.  

I also uncovered the story of a house in Aylesford in Kent, built in 1709 and owned by barge-builders in its time. The intriguing part was the cellar, that proved to be a good deal older than 1709 and helped us understand its relationship with the ancient pub next door.

Other projects included two elegant townhouses in London; assessing the historic interior of a red-brick “Pont-Street-Dutch” house in Chelsea and piecing together the story of one of John Nash’s elegant Grade I houses in Regent’s Park.

Booth's Poverty Map of London circa 1890 Showing Regent's Park 

One of my favourite archives to visit is the East Sussex Record Office in Lewes and this year, I found myself visiting ESRO to research a 17^thcentury longhouse on the Sussex Downs that had been occupied by one family of tenant farmers for over 250 years. Despite staff shortages, they couldn't have been more accommodating, helping me to pull out nearly 400 years of recorded history in the form of photographs and drawings, maps, plans, leases and deeds for me to piece together. 

One of the last projects this year was for a hotel in London which led to researching not only the story of the building and the business but also its links to the Age of Steam and the famous people, politicians, writers, philanthropists and actresses who have passed through its brass-dressed revolving doors in its 150 year history.

So what of 2013? Well, it will be my fourth year exhibiting at the Listed Property Show at Olympia (16^th/17^th February). I will also be giving a talk there on the Saturday, 16^th February. This year the show is bigger than ever with the event sponsored by The Daily Telegraph and English Heritage. Click this link for details:Listed Property Show 2013

But the big news of 2013 is that I will be holding my house history workshops at two of England’s most elegant and historic country house hotels, namely Cliveden in Berkshire and Ickworth in Suffolk, starting in March and continuing throughout the year. So, if you want to unlock the history of your house for yourself but don’t know where to start, details about the day are on my website! www.ellenleslie.com.

Cliveden Housex

2012 was a great year … looking forward to seeing how next year unfolds. Thanks for reading my blog and may I wish you all a very Happy 2013!