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

How Old Is My House?

When people want to find out the history of their house the two most popular lines of enquiry are; who lived there and how old is it? But before you can start to discover the occupants of a house, the date of construction is fundamental to understanding its past.

Copyright Ellen Leslie

Finding out the age of a building can take you down many paths. The most obvious clue is if there is a date on the building. But don’t let that fool you. Last year I researched a house with 1566 displayed prominently above the front door. But in fact, that date marked the year the house had been extended. The building’s origins went back to 1450.

When working out the date of construction, start by looking at the building itself. What is the style? Does it ooze Victorian Gothic or display Georgian symmetrical restraint? How big are the windows? The smaller the panes of glass the chances are the building is earlier rather than later. I also strongly recommend the book “Period House Fixtures & Fittings 1300-1900” by Linda Hall (published by Countryside Books). It is a fantastic reference source for dating architectural features inside and out!  But the features themselves don’t tell the whole story. A building can be altered adapted many times over the centuries.

So to continue your search, you should also speak to the local history society who would know more than anyone in the area how long the building has been standing. A local historian may have also written about the street or area in which you live.

When I am researching buildings I always combine a site inspection with documentary evidence to support what I have seen. If you have a hunch that your building is late 19th  or early 20th century, go and have a look at the census returns that are available through your local archive. These could tell you not only if the building existed at all at the ten year intervals between 1841 and 1911 but also if it was occupied or even under construction. Local archives also hold collections of photographs that may include your house, narrowing down the possible date even more.

You can check other general records like poor rate books or parish records for reference to your house or street. However, one of the most useful tools for determining the age of your house has to be maps. Maps prior to 1800 can involve a little artistic licence, but they are good indicators and certainly from the beginning of the 19^th century with the influence of the Ordnance Survey, maps of many styles and types can work as a guide to locating and confirming, if not the year, a narrower time frame in which your house was built.

Of course, if your house is obviously older than 1800; if the timber frame and king post in the roof suggests 16^th or even 15^th century then it is possible that manorial records can shed some light on its origins. 

The older your house the more alterations and additions it would have undergone. I recently researched a building with structural elements surviving from the 15^th century, but with extensions and alterations in every century, right up to the 21^st. It can be a complicated process but documentary evidence can shed light on these changes.

If your house is listed, check the date in the listing description. A word of warning though; these descriptions are merely a guide and cannot be seen as 100 per cent reliable. Two listed buildings I recently researched were woefully wrong. In one case it was wrong by nearly 200 years! You could also check the title deeds of your house. However, unless you manage to locate the early version, modern day Land Registry records rarely go back further than 50 years.

The method of dating, like all other research into the history of a building, always requires a mixture of examining the bricks and mortar (or wattle and daub) and documentary evidence. One supports the other; and if you combine all these methods and sources, you should be successful in finding out how old your house is.

This article by Ellen Leslie first appeared on www.countrylife.co.uk 19 Aug 2011 as part of the Projectbook Blog Series.

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.

Census Working Over Time

Victorian Family Scene (BBC History)

On 27^th March this year, the UK has another census. It has brought me to think about the role past census returns play in my line of work. Although the 1911 census has been technically available to view for the last two years, census returns usually take 100 years to be made available to the general public. They tell us not only who lived in a particular house on census night, but their ages, what their occupations were, where were they born, some even state what disabilities an individual had. When you are researching your family tree, such information is extremely useful and eye-opening. But if the census is primarily to record the people, how on earth could it help someone research a building?

Although the census has been with us in the UK since 1801, it is only widely available from 1841 and certainly 1851-1911, in ten year intervals, are the crucial years. If I am researching a building, I will find out not only who lived there, but how many were under one roof (did they live in cramped conditions, how were the rooms designated/configured?). The returns will also tell me what the building was used for (private home, boarding house, workshop?) which might help explain certain features still existing in the house (for instance hanging hooks, cellar access, ceiling heights, blocked up doorways and changes in the architrave). Changes in occupants can also indicate alterations to the building as the new owners refurbished and redecorated their “new” home. I always use changes in ownership to give me an indication of structural changes.

Census Return

If I am trying to confirm the year a building was built, I refer to the census. It can tell me if a building was occupied or not or whether it was still under construction. A good example of a past research assignment is a row of townhouses in Kensington. Other findings told me that the houses were completed in the early 1870s but the developers had had great difficulty selling the leases. As a result many of their construction craftsmen occupied the houses instead. The 1871 census confirmed this with carpenters, joiners, bricklayers and labourers recorded as resident in these grand, stuccoed houses, built for the gentry.

Victorian Builders (English Heritage NMR)

It can be quite frustrating sometimes if the return shows only the servants were in on the night of the census. I wish of course, that such information was available more frequently - 10 years is a huge gap when researching the evolution of a building. But archive records by  their nature are sporadic and incomplete. There's always been a degree of luck involved. There is no absolute rule about what information should be kept or not … but at lease I can rely on the census, every 10 years.

Dereliction of Duty

 

My speciality is British architecture, but that doesn’t mean that interest stops at the lapping shores of the English Channel. British architecture can be found all over the world.

I was recently on Malta. It was here that the British military was strategically posted for nearly 150 years. Britain acquired it from the French at the Treaty Paris in 1814. The British only left in 1979.

Located in the centre of Malta is the small town of Mtarfa, close to Rabat and Mdina. It was here in 1890 that the British military medical facilities were centralised. 
 


The old military hospital at Mtarfa - now a secondary school

The main hospital building, commissioned in 1912, was officially opened on the 29th June 1920. However, it was in full use during World War I. The hospital treated the allied casualties from Gallipoli. During World War II, the Mtarfa Hospital and barracks were reorganized as the 90th General Hospital and developed to house about 1200 beds. At the ends of hostilities, the 90th General Hospital was disbanded and reformed on peacetime footing as the David Bruce Military Hospital. 

The main building is now a secondary school but the Sisters House (where the nurses lived) and the Isolation Block – although listed and apparently protected by the Maltese authorities - are derelict and facing a gloomy future. 



The Sisters House - Mtarfa



No protection from the elements

 I went around these buildings. They’re built from the ubiquitous maltese sandstone that makes the island and dominates the construction of the historic as well as modern buildings. One key feature of this stone is the rapid effects of wind erosion – so stone replacement is a common and easy method of maintaining the buildings. 


The Isolation Block at Mtarfa

 However, the auxiliary hospital buildings at Mtarfa have bigger worries than a little wind erosion. Fundamentally there is nothing wrong with these buildings. They have been solidly and beautifully built and could be brought back to working use or become desirable residential properties. But the windows have gone as well as the roofs. Vandals have taken a torch to the isolation block and while modern developments are constructed around these buildings – nothing has been done to at least arrest the old buildings' decay.



Damage and Decay - Isolation Block - Mtarfa

 The redevelopment of the old barracks at Mtarfa shows that such conversions can be done successfully. These are now apartments for local people and are in a very good state of maintenance. See below: 


Old Barracks at Mtarfa - converted into family homes

 Heritage and historic buildings are amongst the first to come off the Priority List during a recession. In addition, there are 65,000 newly constructed residences lying empty on Malta, so a demand for converting historic properties for a renewed purpose does not exist on the island. Before the recession came, the Mtarfa Planning Authority had ear-marked the buildings for redevelopment. We can only hope this does happen - before the buildings are beyond saving.



Isolation Block - Mtarfa

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 .....