Title
Five Unusual London Objects No.2
Tuesday 1st October 2013 at 23:54
The past is all around if you know where to look. Outside
the Athenaeum Club and the Institute of Directors in Waterloo Place are a pair of blackened kerb stones, or horse blocks, requested by the Duke of Wellington in 1830. They let him reach his horse while visiting his club. It's odd that so many mundane objects like this survive while the more noticeable ones have been destroyed or allowed to fall into disrepair.
1. The London Swastika
London had quite a few Nazi symbols that were either removed or painted over during the war. At Carlton House Terrace, where the Nazi Embassy was built by Albert Speer, there's an interior staircase with marble supplied by Mussolini, although it looks rather ordinary if grand. The only surviving London monument to the Nazis is the gravestone of Giro the dog.
However, there are still a handful of Nazi symbols knocking about. One is on a plaque outside India House in the Aldwych, but this predates Nazism from a time when it was a Hindu symbol. My red leather editions of the 'Just So' stories by Rudyard Kipling are lined with gold swastikas.
2. Mother Goose's Grave
St Olave's Church is a tiny, almost square medieval church in the City of London damaged badly in the war and restored in the 1950s. If you look above the stone entrance
you'll find three grim skulls peering out that even managed to give Charles Dickens the creeps. Skulls were often found on churches, a sign that all flesh is fleeting. But in a lighter motif, the pantomime character of Mother Goose is supposed to have been buried here on September 14, 1586, and there's a plaque commemorating the event. However, there's another Mother Goose buried in Boston, Mass. so it's likely that the surname alone gave rise to the legend. Besides, panto never dies. 3. The Hotel De Bologne's entrance There was once a French hotel in London's Chinatown. Sadly, this is all that's left of it. Number 27 Gerrard Street was built in 1783 but was turned into a hotel in 1874 by a Frenchman and his English wife. It suffered during WW1 and became a restaurant, remaining there, along with the lovely trumpet shop diagonally opposite (which can still be seen in the film 'A Touch Of Class) until the 70s, when the Chinese colonised the whole street. Now only the step remains - inside is the (rather good value) London Chinatown.
4. The Sunken Bath of Princess Caroline
I've nearly fallen into this a few times. It's an unprepossessing stepped hole in the ground at the top of Greenwich Park, but it has an interesting history. Princess Caroline of Brunswick (she of the big hats) made a pretty disastrous marriage with her cousin the Prince Regent, who favouring his mistress, slandered his wife by spreading rumours that she stank. She responded by retiring to Montague House in the park and throwing wild parties. He was so incensed that he had the entire house torn down, and all that's left is her sunken bath, proof at least that she bathed. Royals, eh?
5. The 1940's Living Room
Is a living room an object? I think we can count this as one. The Queen's Head in King's Cross is trapped in a time warp. Although the pub itself is Victorian its lounge appears to have stopped moving forward in 1940, with the furniture and most importantly the lighting of a wartime boozer. The room is complete with old board games and a fireplace - but it's not preciously frozen, and just feels natural, if a portal had opened in a bustling modern area. By the way, look around the surrounding streets and you'll find several stag's heads on buildings - remnants of the days when King's Cross was a royal hunting ground.
the Athenaeum Club and the Institute of Directors in Waterloo Place are a pair of blackened kerb stones, or horse blocks, requested by the Duke of Wellington in 1830. They let him reach his horse while visiting his club. It's odd that so many mundane objects like this survive while the more noticeable ones have been destroyed or allowed to fall into disrepair.
1. The London Swastika
London had quite a few Nazi symbols that were either removed or painted over during the war. At Carlton House Terrace, where the Nazi Embassy was built by Albert Speer, there's an interior staircase with marble supplied by Mussolini, although it looks rather ordinary if grand. The only surviving London monument to the Nazis is the gravestone of Giro the dog.
However, there are still a handful of Nazi symbols knocking about. One is on a plaque outside India House in the Aldwych, but this predates Nazism from a time when it was a Hindu symbol. My red leather editions of the 'Just So' stories by Rudyard Kipling are lined with gold swastikas.
2. Mother Goose's Grave
St Olave's Church is a tiny, almost square medieval church in the City of London damaged badly in the war and restored in the 1950s. If you look above the stone entranceyou'll find three grim skulls peering out that even managed to give Charles Dickens the creeps. Skulls were often found on churches, a sign that all flesh is fleeting. But in a lighter motif, the pantomime character of Mother Goose is supposed to have been buried here on September 14, 1586, and there's a plaque commemorating the event. However, there's another Mother Goose buried in Boston, Mass. so it's likely that the surname alone gave rise to the legend. Besides, panto never dies. 3. The Hotel De Bologne's entrance There was once a French hotel in London's Chinatown. Sadly, this is all that's left of it. Number 27 Gerrard Street was built in 1783 but was turned into a hotel in 1874 by a Frenchman and his English wife. It suffered during WW1 and became a restaurant, remaining there, along with the lovely trumpet shop diagonally opposite (which can still be seen in the film 'A Touch Of Class) until the 70s, when the Chinese colonised the whole street. Now only the step remains - inside is the (rather good value) London Chinatown.
4. The Sunken Bath of Princess Caroline
I've nearly fallen into this a few times. It's an unprepossessing stepped hole in the ground at the top of Greenwich Park, but it has an interesting history. Princess Caroline of Brunswick (she of the big hats) made a pretty disastrous marriage with her cousin the Prince Regent, who favouring his mistress, slandered his wife by spreading rumours that she stank. She responded by retiring to Montague House in the park and throwing wild parties. He was so incensed that he had the entire house torn down, and all that's left is her sunken bath, proof at least that she bathed. Royals, eh?
5. The 1940's Living Room
Is a living room an object? I think we can count this as one. The Queen's Head in King's Cross is trapped in a time warp. Although the pub itself is Victorian its lounge appears to have stopped moving forward in 1940, with the furniture and most importantly the lighting of a wartime boozer. The room is complete with old board games and a fireplace - but it's not preciously frozen, and just feels natural, if a portal had opened in a bustling modern area. By the way, look around the surrounding streets and you'll find several stag's heads on buildings - remnants of the days when King's Cross was a royal hunting ground.
Posted in
London
13 comments
In reply to by anonymous_stub (not verified)
I notice the one concession of a tele screen above the corner doorway in The Queen's Head. Take that down, and y've got a boozer from Foyle's War!
In reply to by anonymous_stub (not verified)
Yes, I've got a copy of 'Kim' by Rudyard Kipling with swastikas on the spine- It's a bit of history, eh? Thanks for another interesting post....
In reply to by anonymous_stub (not verified)
I'm doing a series of illustrations on commission for a German Buddhist. Very important with the symobol not to give it a tilt*. As a symbol it's difficult to think of one that's been more corrupted in meaning and association.
*Lol, as they say.
In reply to by anonymous_stub (not verified)
Please keep presenting these posts. They are very interesting and may well appear in future B&M novels. This is a good way for us to prep.
In reply to by anonymous_stub (not verified)
[…] Five<br>unusual London objects. […]
In reply to by anonymous_stub (not verified)
The Queen's Head - one of the very finest pubs in London. As always with good pubs, there's that ambivalence of whether to praise it or try to keep it secret
In reply to by anonymous_stub (not verified)
These days I feel pubs like the Queen's Head need every decent person they can to go there and buy some beer, take in the atmosphere and keep them going. Haven't been there, but will definitely visit.
In reply to by anonymous_stub (not verified)
The Great Wen has a rather nifty article on swastikas in London [link underneath my name, just hover]. It was a innocuous symbol for decades up until the 30's even appeared in ads for a well known fizzy drink.
But sadly it doesn't include the swastika shaped building, built at the height of Deco, whose location escapes me at the mo. Somewhere in the SE postcode?
It still exists, and I have a vague memory that it had to be camoflaged or painted in 'dazzle' to disguise it from bomber crews.
In reply to by anonymous_stub (not verified)
At our genealogy class today we got to talking about beer words. Not words for beer but for servings of same. There was the mention of Australian terminology (here?) being different from one side of the continent to the other but we were asking each other about the word 'sleeve', a word which I had never heard until the last few years, not that I am in pubs very often unfortunately. Some said it was a stack of glasses or a glass from that stack, some that it was a pint, but since they come in 12, 14, and 16 oz sizes I wonder. Does anyone know where (geographically) the term originated? I suspect the etymological source is a wrapped stack of whatever.
In reply to by anonymous_stub (not verified)
Remember the swastika was originally a sort of Hindu "good luck" symbol although in truth it was rather more than good luck that the symbol was thought to bring, it sort of cleansed a place of previous evil. When Indian families used to be allocated flats on a big council estate where i worked they would go into the flat and create the shape of a swastika out of dried peas or something similar. the symbol would stay in the place for a few days until they moved in. And the Nazi swastika is mirror image of the original swastika maybe taking into consideration Hitler and his buddys views on witchcraft they were trying to create an atmosphere of fear and evil rather than eliminate one..........
In reply to by anonymous_stub (not verified)
'Sleeve' glasses, not an answer as such and I suspect you could search for 20 years and never find a real solution.
The 'straight' pint glass as it is known came in with the increase of the popularity of lager beers. It was also very cheap compared to the traditional 'pint pot', much easier to clean and much lighter. [Cue jokes about the wrist strengh of lager drinkers, normally met with a riposte about how ale drinkers had exercised theirs.] The old 'pot' style glasses are very seldom seen nowadays.
I have a notion and it's only a notion, that they are called sleeves just because they are wider at the top than the bottom.
In reply to by anonymous_stub (not verified)
I'll still go with stackable glasses. Some of the first over here had, and some continue to have, a raised sleeve around the top, so they don't slip down into the glass below. These can be more easily separated. But I may be totally wrong as the sleeve glass may be an Old World thing and not have traveled to the New.
In reply to by anonymous_stub (not verified)
It is comforting to learn that something which confuses the locals here is also confusing elsewhere. I'll build up my strength and embark on some personal research perhaps.