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

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)

Capturing An Age - Bedford Lemere 1870-1930

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

Copyright RIBA Library Collection

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

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

43 Harrington Gardens circa 1897

Copyright NMR English Heritage

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

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

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

Midland Grand Hotel 1890s

Copyright NMR English Heritage

Memories Taking Their Toll

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Work of a Buildings Historian

Park Street, Mayfair 1901 (Survey of London)

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

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

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


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

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

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


 

Cumberland Terrace 1938 (Survey of London)

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

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

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

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

Dead Interesting Building

 

The Station Today

 


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

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






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

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

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

 
 

1941: Bomb Damage Behind the Necropolis Station

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