Lynch Lodge, Alwalton, Cambridgeshire PE7 3UU

This building was the gatehouse to a stately home, “Chesterton”, now demolished. It is made of fragments of that building and others.

Lynch Lodge near Peterborough, Landmark Trust. June 14th 2025 in Sketchbook 16

The building dates from approximately 1807. It was acquired by The Landmark Trust in 1983. The Trust undertook restoration works completed 1983. The architect for this restoration was Philip Jebb and the builders were C Bowman and Sons.

Lynch Lodge is the first picture in my new Sketchbook, Sketchbook 16.

The Lodge is in the midst of countryside which looks as though it is a painting by John Constable.

It’s a wonderful and peaceful place. You can see pictures of the restored interior on their website: https://www.landmarktrust.org.uk/properties/lynch-lodge/

Sketching in Aberdeen

I had been travelling a long time. Reaching Old Aberdeen I sat on a granite kerbstone and sketched The Old Town House. Behind me was a friendly bookshop, where I had bought a map.

The Old Town House, University of Aberdeen, in Shetland 2025 sketchbook, size A5.

Having sketched, I walked into the picture I had drawn, and towards the trees on the left of the Town House. There I discovered a building being taken over by plants.

There was a plaque on the building, with writing on. You can see it in the background of the photo above. I couldn’t read the plaque at this distance, and neither could my phone.

Some tourists came by, laden with backpacks and cameras. They paused, curious to see what I was drawing. Since their eyes were younger than mine, I asked if they could read the plaque. They couldn’t, and neither could their phones. My next idea was that they could try using the telephoto lens on one of those formidable-looking cameras. With good grace they shrugged off a hefty block of technology, and removed its canvas housing. It had a fine lens.

“Mitchell’s Hospital, endowed by David Mitchell 1801. Reconstructed 1924.”

So now we know.

Mitchell’s Hospital, The Chanonry, Old Aberdeen. Sketch in “Shetland 2025” sketchbook, A5

David Mitchell founded the hospital as an almshouse “from a regard for the inhabitants of the city of Old Aberdeen and its ancient college and a desire in these severe times to provide lodging, maintenance and clothing for a few aged relicks and maiden daughters of decayed gentlemen merchants or trade burgesses of the said city..” [Wikipedia entry quoting the deed of mortification of the Hospital]. It was used as such, housing elderly ladies, up to to around 2016 when the final elderly resident, Iona Mathieson-Ross, had to move out.

In April 2024, there was notice of a sale in the local paper:

A later article says it has been sold, and that the new owners are refurbishing the building as small residential units to be let, possibly as short-term holiday lets. The planning application on Aberdeen Council’s website shows a building looking identical to the existing one, cleaned up and repaired.

From the planning application 241449/LBC Proposed elevations, North and East

It sounds like a dream come true for this neglected building:

“PROPOSED WORKS
Roof:
Allow for removal of all moss and vegetation
Allow for replacement of missing slates in size, thickness and colour to match existing.
Check ridge tiling and re-bed any loose tiles.
Chimney stacks pointing to be checked and where missing to be repointed…

…Chimney cans to be reset…

Granite Masonry:
Pointing to be checked and where missing to be repointed…

Windows:
Existing sash & case windows to be checked & where wet rot is evident timber sections to be replaced with same profile in Redwood.
Windows to be refurbished to ensure they are fully operational and fitted with draught stripping internally….

External Doors:
Existing external doors to be replaced with external quality Redwood 4 panel doors with double glazed obscure glass in upper 2 panels fully weather stripped primed and painted…

planning application: https://publicaccess.aberdeencity.gov.uk/online-applications/files/D0CA009C52149577D726371114B13754/pdf/241449_LBC-Proposed_Elevations__North__East___Sectional_A-A-2405900.pdf

The planning application was approved on the 3rd July 2025, a few days after I was standing there doing my sketch. Perhaps when I next visit Aberdeen the improvement work will be in progress. Maybe, if it becomes holiday lets, I can even stay there.

I’m glad it’s being refurbished, but I shall treasure the view of this graceful building gradually being assimilated into the plant world.

Here is a map showing my walk and Mitchell’s Hospital.

I had coffee in Kilau Coffee – recommended!
Sketching in Seaton Park, before the rain. St Machar’s Cathedral.

St Barnabus Jericho, Oxford OX2

Walking through Jericho on my way to the station, I glimpsed this church tower, and heard its bells. I wove through the small streets until I found it.

St Barnabus Jericho, OX2 6BG, sketched 26 April 2025 in Sketchbook 15.

This is St Barnabus Jericho. Its website says that it is also known as “Oxford Basilica”. It was built as the daughter church of St Paul’s, which is the Grecian-style building on Walton Street, now no longer a church1.

St Paul’s is not far away, just the other side of The Oxford University Press. It was opened in 1836, and became part of the “Oxford Movement”. The Oxford Movement was campaign within the Church of England, led by influential clergymen and theologians in the 1830s. They challenged the contemporary way of thinking in the Church, saying that services were too plain, and that much of value from the Catholic tradition had been left behind. They sought to re-instate some of the theology, pageantry and ritual from the Catholic tradition, and they put it into their services. They also had a social calling, drawn to help working people and the disadvantaged.2

As you can imagine, this was contentious: popular with some people, and regarded as suspicious and un-English by others. In the 1830s, the movement flourished in this part of Oxford. The services at St Paul’s became so crowded that another church was needed. In addition, Oxford University Press moved into its huge site on Walton Street in 1830, which brought many workers to the area. So an additional church was created, and this was St Barnabus.

“The land for St Barnabas was given by George Ward who was an Oxford ironmonger, and the benefactor for the Church building was the generous Thomas Combe, Printer to the University, along his wife Martha.” [https://www.sbarnabas.org.uk/history]

St Barnabus opened for worship in 1869, and is flourishing to this day. Inside it is awe-inspiring and uplifting, with its highly decorated walls and vast size.

I sketched St Barnabus from outside “The Old Bookbinders” pub, delighted and frustrated in equal measure by the extraordinary detail in that tower. And I was looking at its clock, which informed me of the passing minutes until my train.

I finished the pen-and-ink drawing. Then I walked on, past Worcester College, to the railway station.

Sketchbook spread, St Barnabus Jericho. Sketchbook 15.

Footnotes

  1. St Paul’s: the impressive Grecian temple building on Walton St is no longer a church, but the “St Paul’s” name lives on. I’ve done an earlier sketch which shows St Paul’s Nursery, still very much in operation and part of Somerville College.
    ↩︎
  2. Oxford Movement: This is my non-specialist summary of a significant and complex theological and social movement. For a proper description see, for example the Wikipedia Article, or this glossary article. ↩︎

Walking around Glasgow

On the way to and from Sketch and Sail last week, my journey took me through Glasgow. I spent a few hours walking around that city, sketchbook in hand.

Here is West George Street, looking east, downhill towards St Georges Tron Church.

This was a Sunday. Glasgow was quiet. Until there was the sound of flutes, or perhaps more accurately fifes. And then a procession. I tried to sketch the people as they walked by.

Who were they? What was it about? I had sort of guessed, before I asked the police officer. “The Grand Orange Lodge” he told me. So this was an Orange March, a procession by Protestant fraternal societies. I had heard of them in the news as taking place in Northern Ireland, but I had not heard of them in Glasgow, or anywhere else. They arouse contention in some contexts. This procession seemed low-key and passed through peacefully, gone almost before I had thought through what I was looking at.

I walked on, in the opposite direction, towards the West End of Glasgow.

In Glasgow there are magnificent Victorian buildings, some of them strangely derelict and empty. Here is the roofscape of the former buildings of Glasgow City Council: huge empty buildings around a vast courtyard.

Here is an eight storey building on Hope Street: “The Lion Chambers”, perhaps a former legal practice.

One of the joys of walking in cities is that you pass through invisible membranes, barely detectable boundaries between the derelict areas and the areas that have been reinvigorated, or between the commercial areas and the residential districts. As I walked West I saw a tower on the horizon, with a parapet.

This looked like the type of tower I have sketched in London at St Thomas’ hospital.

But on closer inspection it turned out to be a church. Or rather, it had been a church. Now it is a residential tower called “Trinity”, looking very smart.

I was sketching between rainstorms. By this time I was high up overlooking the city.

A bit further on there is the botanic gardens. The rain stopped and suddenly the place looked like a sunlit utopia, with people of all kinds and all ages out sitting on benches and chatting to each other amongst flowers and cultivated trees. Further on still, I came to a river.

It was time to turn around and head back East. I became comprehensively lost amongst the pedestrian underpasses knotted around the M8 motorway. But an elderly gentleman put me right, turning around and walking with me to the summit of a bridge, from which vantage point he could indicate the correct route with his walking stick.

It’s a city of many cities, is Glasgow. Wealth and dereliction, renovation and decay. There is a sense of waves of renewal, ups and downs. Or perhaps that was just because I was returning from a sea trip, and the pavement was not yet entirely steady under my feet.

London Water and Steam Museum, Brentford, TW8 0EN

Here is the magnificent London Water and Steam Museum.

It’s definitely worth a visit if like me you are fascinated by steam engines. But there’s more. This museum is a whole education in the London drinking water and sewerage system: past and present.

The building I’ve sketched houses the “100 inch pumping engine” and the “90 inch pumping engine”. These are steam pumps over a hundred years old. The inches refer to the diameter of the pump cylinder. Their job was to pump drinking water from the Thames to premises in London. The 90 inch engine started working in 1846 and the 100 inch started in 1871. They both retired in 1943, by which time the 90 inch had been going 97 years. The 100 inch gave a demonstration in 1958, which was the last time it pumped water. The 90 inch was restored to working order by enthusiasts in 1973, and now gives demonstrations in the museum. The 100 inch has yet to be restored.

The tower in my sketch is not a chimney. It is a “standpipe tower”. It holds big vertical pipes and a reservoir to store water and regulate the pressure. The strokes from the steam engines created powerful surges of water. You don’t want those powerful surges going directly into the mains water supply, and as they might damage the pipes and surprise consumers. So the steam engines pumped the water up this tower instead. From there, the water flowed out to consumers smoothly.

Providing running water was a whole big problem in the Victorian era. The machines were gigantic so that they could generate sufficient water pressure to get the water up to the second floor of the new Victorian houses which had bathrooms upstairs. That’s not something we normally think about: but I can see it’s an issue.

Then there was the whole big issue of the purity of the water, and whether it was actually drinkable. There were a number of private water companies at the time, in competition with each other, and vying for business, making claims for their water quality, and returning dividends to their shareholders. This was the late 19th century – 100 or so years ago.

A display panel soberly tells us:

“Despite making huge profits the water companies had not lived up to their promises. The quality of the water was still variable and the amount being pumped sometimes left homes and businesses without water. The companies’ focus on profits rather than service was a major worry and so the government decided to get involved.
In 1904 the government created the Metropolitan Water Board and bought the eight water companies to create a single network covering the whole of London. …

As well as history, I learned about today’s drinking water.

For example: did you know that 10% of London’s drinking water is de-salinated water from the Thames estuary? The “revolutionary new de-salination plant” opened in 2010:

I watched a gripping – and somewhat alarming – video of heroic engineers cautiously making their way down soaking brick-lined pipes in the sewers below London streets. They were down there to inspect and clear blockages. I also saw the “rat” robots that can be sent down the smaller sewers – it’s a tough environment for technology.

As well as all this gripping factual information, there’s much of strange beauty in the machinery. I particularly enjoyed the devices and dials.

Definitely recommended. It’s on the underground. No café: take a picnic to eat at their indoor tables.

It closes at 4pm – I managed to do the sketch from the garden, just before they closed the gates.

I added the colour later.

Sketchbook 15

Information in this post is from placards in the museum or from their website. Inspired by my visit to the museum, I read this excellent book about London’s water supply:

“The Mercenary River” by Nick Higham

1 Wood Close E2

See this interesting building! It’s just a few hundred yards from Brick Lane in East London.

1 Wood Close E2, sketched around midday, 9th March 2025 in sketchbook 15

I’d walked past it a few days previously, when I had been taking a circuitous route through East London on the way back from Hackney Wick. It’s an unusual building for the neighbourhood, most of which is terraces or blocks of post-war flats. This building stood out, on its own, at a street corner. What is it doing there?

Sketch map showing the location of Wood Close: just to the east of Brick Lane.

I went back a few days later for a closer look. On the white band at the front of the building I could decipher some words:
“ERECTED 1826 [something] FIELD AND THOMAS [something] CHURCH WARDENS”

London Picture Archive has a photo of this building from 1946. The words on the front were a little clearer in 1946, so I can read that Thomas’ second name was MARSDEN. The London Picture Archive caption says that “the building began as a watchman’s house in 1754. The watchman was to guard against body snatchers who provided corpses for dissection to local hospitals. ” So that’s what it was doing: it was guarding the graveyard.

The London Picture Archive caption goes on to say that “In 1826 the building was enlarged so that a fire engine could be housed there.” That’s the building we see now, labelled 1826. It doesn’t look big enough for a fire engine.

In the London Picture Archive photo from 1946, the street name affixed to the building says “Wood’s Close” which would indicate it was named after someone called Wood. Today the street name on the building is “Wood Close”

This building is listed Grade II.

This link shows a 1872 map. Here’s an extract. Click the map to go to the National Library of Scotland map which is very detailed. The street is called “Wood Close” on this map. You can see the “Grave Yard (disused)”. The Watch House, circled in red below, is in the corner of the graveyard, which makes sense.

Area around Wood Close: 1872. Reproduced with the permission of the National Library of Scotland CC-BY(NLS)

As you see in my sketch, there are now a prodigious number of bollards in front of the house. I counted ten of them, standing like an amused crowd next to the “7′-0” sign . While I was standing there sketching, I saw why. The idea is to restrict the width of St Matthew’s Row so that vehicles have to slow down or stop, and cars can’t sneak round the edges. I watched agog as huge limousines edged between the bollards.

This Watch House, and the nearby Parish Hall are owned by St Matthews Church:

The Church also own the Watch House on Wood Close, which is currently let out to private tenants, and the Parish Hall on Hereford Street, currently let out to State51.

https://www.st-matthews.org.uk/hire-our-spaces/

It’s a house on a corner, with an active life and a history. I was glad to make its acquaintance.

Pelham Mission Hall, Lambeth SE11

This ornate building stands out amongst the plain and functional housing along Lambeth Walk. I walked past it on my way to the Vauxhall Tea House.

Pelham Mission Hall, Lambeth Walk, Lambeth SE11. in Sketchbook 15, 26 Feb 2025
Canopy

Rain threatened, but I started the sketch anyway. I was sheltering underneath a sort of canopy on the opposite side of the road. This canopy had the significant disadvantage that it was perforated with a pattern of decorative holes.

I sketch using a pen which has waterproof ink. The ink is waterproof once it has dried. But if I try sketching when the paper is wet, the ink runs. I continued until the pen protested that it couldn’t make marks under these conditions.

The paper I use is Arches Aquarelle. It is “heavily sized”, which means it throws off the water, at least at first. But after sustained drizzle, it starts to become absorbent.

All these things started to happen. The paper became spongy. The pen spluttered. Rain sneaked through the perforated canopy and dripped down the inside of my coat. Water slid off the leaves into my bag. I tried to wrap the sketchbook up and I crammed it into my backpack. I have a waterproof backpack. It was already wet on the outside. Now it was becoming wet on the inside. I stood in the rain and considered. I breathed using a yoga technique. Yoga breathing techniques are quite effective in the rain. There was a rhythm to the drips.

Then the rhythm slowed. Perhaps I could just do a bit more drawing? Slowly, I extracted and unwrapped my book. I flicked the pen to get the ink to flow again. I made each pen stroke count.

The rain eased enough.

This was as far as I got.

Then I went to the Vauxhall Tea House to warm up.

I finished the drawing of Pelham Mission Hall later at my desk.

Here are the colours I used:


Pelham Mission Hall was completed in 1910.
The text on the big stone slab under the window tells me this.

Foundation stone: This stone was laid by Randall Thomas, Archbishop of Canterbury, on July 18th 1910. G.H.S. Walpole D. D. Rector. “To make ready a people for the Lord” Luke 1.17
Waring and Nicholson architects. William Smith and Son Builders.

Buildings often have a foundation stone. Usually they just say who, and when. This one also says why. Its mission, as stated on the stone, was “To make ready a people for the Lord”. This is a line from a verse in St Luke’s gospel in the Christian Bible. The context is this:

And he shall go before him in the spirit and power of Elias, to turn the hearts of the fathers to the children, and the disobedient to the wisdom of the just; to make ready a people prepared for the Lord.

Luke 1.17. King James version1

This building was created as an urban missionary post. There was a street market along Lambeth Walk at the time, and up to the 1960s. 2 I imagine the missionaries preaching from their outdoor pulpit to the street traders and their customers. It must have been hard for the preacher to make themselves heard.

The Hall is named for Francis G. Pelham 1844-1905, 5th Earl of Chichester, educated Eton and Cambridge, who was rector of Lambeth 1884-1894. 4

The building is now the “Henry Moore Sculpture Studio at Pelham Hall” part of Morley College. The sculptor Henry Moore donated a small sculpture to Morley College in 1977, which was sold at auction and helped to raise money for the lease of Pelham Hall. In return, the College named the sculpture studio after him, as written on the front of the building5.

Pelham Mission Hall, now The Henry Moore Sculpture Studio. The outdoor pulpit is on the left.

A ventilation pipe from the sculpture studio now exhausts through the outdoor pulpit.

While I was in the Vauxhall Tea House, the sun came out. It was calm in there. A few moments of paradise.


  1. I find the King James’ version here a little ambiguous here in the pronouns. Who is the “he”, who is the “him”? A modern translation: ‘John will prepare the people for the Lord to come to them. The Holy Spirit will lead John as he led Elijah. John will do powerful things as Elijah did. He will help fathers to love their children. He will teach people who do not obey God. Then they will know what things are right. And they will do them. Then they will be ready when the Lord comes.’.
    Translation: “The Easy Bible”. Thank you to http://www.biblegateway.com for sorting that out. ↩︎
  2. https://vauxhallhistory.org/lambeth-walk-street-market/ ↩︎
  3. This wonderful photo is from the local history site : http://partletontree.com/LambethWalk.htm ↩︎
  4. The link to Francis G. Pelham is given in the caption to a London Picture Archive photo. See this link: https://www.londonpicturearchive.org.uk/view-item?i=92169&WINID=1742396935298
    ↩︎
  5. The information about the Henry Moore donation is from the Morley College website on this link: https://www.morleygallery.com/sculpture ↩︎

Tower at St Thomas’ Hospital Medical School, Lambeth, SE1

There is a splendid tower south of St Thomas’ Hospital on the South bank of the River Thames. Here it is, sketched from the Lambeth Palace Road.

St Thomas’ hospital medical school, from the Lambeth Palace Road SE1, sketched 23rd February 2025 in sketchbook 15

This tower, and the buildings below it, are right next to the Thames, opposite the Houses of Parliament. It is a splendid position.

Position of St Thomas’ medical school (circled): opposite the Palace of Westminster.
Map (c) Openstreetmap contributors. Click to enlarge.

Given this prominent central location, I was astonished to discover that these buildings are derelict.

If you look through the railings which are in my drawing, this is what you see:

Inside the old medical school: photo from Dibsphotography.com . Click the image to go to their site: many more photos are there.

Urban explorers have posted pictures of the sadly decayed interior. For example on this link and this link and this link. Some have ascended the tower and posted pictures taken from up there. Their photographs show an abandoned lecture theatre, peeling plaster, elegant fireplaces covered in dust and mould, laboratory samples lying about gathering dust, molecule trees in a tangled heap, test tubes and old notes.

As well as the grand buildings, there are low-level houses within the site.

Looking South, below the tower. Picture from Mosaic Engineers report, see note 1

So what’s going on?

This part of St Thomas’ hospital was a medical school and library since the hospital was built here in around 1870. This part of the site was abandoned 20 years ago, as medical schools moved and merged. Then, it seems, nothing happened for 10 years, as the lecture theatres, laboratories and corridors gradually decayed.

In 2015, there was a plan. The website for MICA architects shows a proposal for a new medical school on this site. This proposal is dated “2015-ongoing”. Click the image below to see their drawings of radical new buildings, and future medical students engaged in lectures and conversations, with spectacular views of the Houses of Parliament through the huge windows.

Lambeth Council granted planning permission in 2016, reference 16/02387/FUL. That was nearly ten years ago. Still the site remains derelict.

However, now it seems that progress is happening. On the Lambeth Council planning site, there is an impressive in-depth survey of the site by Mosaic Civil engineers, dated July 2024. They look at the Geology, Soil Chemistry, Hydrogeology, Hydrology, Flood Risk, Unexploded Ordnance, Ground Stability, and Invasive Weed, to name but a few. Hydrogeology seems to be answering the question: are there any aquifers or wells here? (answer: no). Hydrology is answering the question: how does the water flow around here, and will any sewage or nasty chemicals wash into the site? (answer: well, there is a Thames Water “storm sewage overflow” pipe into the Thames just upstream from here….). This report also contains photos, and a useful history of the site (Note 1).

St. Thomas´ Hospital was constructed in its current location in 1871 following the
construction of the Albert Embankment (which required reclamation of land from the River Thames)and the demolition of old boatbuilding and barge house sites which dated back to the 1680s.” (page 6, history of the site)

Mosaic engineers report page 6, history of the site

The volume “London – South” of the Pevsner architectural guides, says that St Thomas’ was..

…built on the current site by Henry Currey 1868-71, one of the first civic hospitals in London to adopt the principle of “Nightingale” wards to allow maximum ventilation and dispersal of foul air.

Florence Nightingale (1820–1910) was a pioneering nurse and reformer of the profession. She had a profound impact on the architecture of hospitals.

“The first principle of hospital construction is to divide the sick among separate pavilions,” she wrote in her 1863 ‘Notes on Hospitals’. Pavilions were large, rectangular, open-plan wards that made it easier for nurses to supervise all patients. These wards became known as Nightingale Wards.”

London Museum website

The London Museum website presents a picture of St Thomas’ hospital as an example of this architecture. There were seven such pavilions. As you see in the pictures below, the hospital rivalled the Houses of Parliament in its size and pinnacled magnificence.

“St Thomas’ hospital opened by the Queen last Wednesday”.
This picture is from the London Museum website. The Tower I sketched is on the left.

Here is a historic photo from the other side of the river. Westminster Bridge spans the river. The tower I sketched is on the right.

The hospital looks different today. The North pavilion was destroyed by enemy action in the 1939-45 conflict, and other parts of the building were damaged beyond repair. The only part remaining was the Tower to the south, and 3 of the southernmost pavilions. A large block was built in 1975 to replace the north pavilion. The website “Ebb and Flow” has some excellent pictures from 2023, showing the 1975 building in detail, and paying tribute to the dedicated people who work in this building.

Below is a photo from August last year. The 1975 buildings are on the left, the original buildings, still derelict, are on the right. In front is the National Covid Memorial Wall.

View of St Thomas’ from the Thames path, August 2024. (Photo (c) JaneSketching. )

The remaining pavilions and the tower are Grade II listed, number 1080373. Many new buildings of the hospital have been created around them, including the Evelina hospital for children.

Now we can expect the renovation of the southern part of the hospital.

Picture from Mica Architects proposal: click picture to go to their website
(https://micaarchitects.com/projects/st-thomas-hospital-block-9-prideaux-building)

I have run and walked past this building for twenty years. I’m so glad that doing the sketch has prompted me to discover what’s going on behind the high walls. Here are some snapshots from the embankment. The hospital is on the right, behind the wall.

Early morning, 17th March 2025
Early morning 12 January 2006. Mobile phones weren’t so great at taking photos then.

I thank the ambulance staff, administrators and medical professionals of St Thomas’ hospital who were there when needed after a terrifying incident.
We all have such incidents in our lives. The hospital is more than a building. It is a place of caring, a community and a store of knowledge, from Nightingale to now. Thank you NHS.


Note 1: The report from Mosaic civil engineers is called
“Mosaic Civil and Structural engineers report
FINAL REPORT
PHASE 1 PRELIMINARY CONTAMINATION RISK ASSESSMENT REPORT
01/07/2024″

It is on this link, as part of the ongoing planning proposal.

If that link doesn’t work, you can find it here:

Bedford House, Quaker Street, London E1

This magnificent building is on the corner of Quaker Street and Wheler Street, in east London, near Liverpool Street Station.

Bedford House, Quaker Street. Sketched 12 February 2025 in Sketchbook 15

It is intriguing: grand but dilapidated. Grass grows from the ledges, windows are broken and patched. The front door is blocked with a waste bin. But it has style.

At one time it was bright, new, clean and purposeful. This was the headquarters of a Quaker mission in east London: the Bedford Institute Association. It was built in 1894 replacing a previous building.

The lofty, picturesque, red-brick building, with its gables and tall roof, is constructed and equipped with solidity, and liberality and far-sightedness which distinguish all the admirable buildings erected by the trustees.”

“Sunday at Home” published by the Religious Tract Society, 1895, Volume 42, page 92

This issue of “Sunday at Home” published in 1895, goes on to describe the work which was undertaken in the building, which was less than a year old at the time of writing. Its purpose was to provide hospitality and education for the destitute of the locality.

“The Sunday begins with a well-planned hospitality to the destitute of the district – a free and substantial breakfast to the poor whose poverty is nowhere seen in a more aggravated form than in Spitalfields.

Provision is made for two hundred, who are supplied with tickets of admission by those who well know the district […] The large lower room in which they are received and comfortably seated is built for purpose, and is itself a lesson in cleanly living as well as of hospitality. The needful ventilation of a room crowded by two hundred guests, entirely devoid of any resources for personal cleanliness, is supplied by rapidly revolving steam fans placed over the doorways…

The article contains a picture, drawn from almost exactly the same spot where I was standing:

At that time there were tall chimneys on the front corners of the building, now reduced to stumps, as you see in my picture. Otherwise the building looks unchanged, on the outside at least. Even the cast-iron railings, centre left, are still there. The adjacent buildings on the right, with the ecclesiastical pointed windows, have been replaced by modern buildings, taller and boxier, with rectangular windows.

Although I was able to read in detail about the use of the building in 1895, I have been unable to discover much of its more recent history. In 2011, for a few months, squatters lived there. “The Gentle Author” visited the house during their occupation1 A photographer, Raquel Riesgo, documented her life during the squat. The squatters were evicted on October 28th 2011.

But what happened next? This building was created to serve destitute people in Spitalfields. Does it continue its mission?

If anyone knows what’s happening there now, I’d be really interested. Please comment below or get in touch.


I found “Sunday at Home” thanks to a link in a comment by Deidre Murray on the listing in Historic England.
“Sunday at Home – a family magazine for Sabbath reading v.42” is available on the website of the Hathi Trust on this link:
https://babel.hathitrust.org/cgi/pt?id=mdp.39015068375545&seq=108&view=1up
or if that doesn’t work try this link:
https://hdl.handle.net/2027/mdp.39015068375545

The publication is “Public Domain, Google-digitized.

The pages I have referenced start on this link: https://hdl.handle.net/2027/mdp.39015068375545?urlappend=%3Bseq=108%3Bownerid=13510798887051007-112

The name of the author of the article and of the artist who drew the picture are not given.

Click below to read or download the pages relating to the Bedford Institute:


  1. The Gentle Author describes his visit in a blog post: https://spitalfieldslife.com/2011/09/29/at-bedford-house/ Reading the comments on his post, there is a sense of the local mixed opinions surrounding this squat. ↩︎

George and Vulture, Pitfield Street, N1

Pitfield Street is a historic London street going north from Old Street. About half-way along is the George and Vulture pub.

The George and Vulture describes itself as the tallest pub in London. The current building dates from 1870, according to the pub’s website.

The George and Vulture, Pitfield Street. Sketched 29 Jan 2025, in sketchbook 15

The “Pubs History” website lists licenced victuallers from 1827 onwards. Here is a scrap from Robsons Street Directory in 1832.

https://londonwiki.co.uk/streets1832/Haberdashersstreet.shtml

The original address of the pub was 35 Haberdashers Street. Much of the land round here was owned by the Haberdashers Livery company, bequeathed to them by Robert Aske, a merchant (1619-1689). In 1862 the Haberdashers company offered new leases on properties here:

Haberdashers’ Estate, Hoxton.
A free public-house, adjoining the high road, and 66 dwelling-houses.
To be let, by tender, by the worshipful Company of Haberdashers, Governors of Aske’s Charity Estate, Hoxton, on repairing leases, for 21 years, from Midsummer, 1863:—
The free public-house, known as the “George and Vulture,” situate in Haberdashers’ Street, which might be enlarged so as to form a corner house to the main street.
Also 12 houses, Nos. 1 to 12, Haberdashers’ Place, which may be converted into shops, at the option of the lessee.
Also 19 houses, Nos. 1 to 19, on the south side of Aske’s Terrace; and 35 houses, Nos. 1 to 35, on the north and south sides of Haberdashers’ Street, in the parish of St. Leonard, Shoreditch, in the county of Middlesex.
Plans of the property, and specifications of the repairs to be performed, may be seen at the offices of Mr. William Snooke, the surveyor to the governors, No. 6, Duke Street, London Bridge, between the hours of 10 and 4 o’clock.
Tenders, in writing only, are to be sent in to Haberdashers’ Hall, Gresham Street West, on or before Thursday, the 27th day of November 1862.

City of London Livery Companies Commission, ‘Report on the Charities of the Haberdashers’ Company: Appendix’, in City of London Livery Companies Commission. Report; Volume 4(London, 1884), British History Online https://www.british-history.ac.uk/livery-companies-commission/vol4/pp478-486 [accessed 30 January 2025].

One of the properties to be let, as you see, was
“The free public-house, known as the “George and Vulture,” situate in Haberdashers’ Street, which might be enlarged so as to form a corner house to the main street.”

Evidently the lessee enlarged the pub, as the Haberdashers Company suggested, and it does indeed form a corner house to the main street. The address of the pub is now 63 Pitfield Street. Here is the 1877 map which shows the pub as a “corner house”. The road layout on the west of Pitfield Street is largely unchanged. Singleton Street is now called Haberdasher Street.

1972 Ordnance Survey map, from the National Library of Scotland, re-use: CC-BY (NLS)

The area was bombed extensively in the 1939-45 conflict, but the pub survived. Bomb maps show that the area adjoining Aske Street on the other side of Pitfield Street was damaged beyond repair. A plaque on the row of shops just North of the pub describe the re-building.1

“Haberdashers Place was destroyed by enemy action on 11 May 1941 and re-built in 1952 when on first July this stone was laid by the master of the Worshipful Company of Haberdashers S.A. Last-Smith.
Clerk W B(?)revett – Builder W Philips & Son -Architect Terence C Page”
Photo: January 2025

Here is the 1872 map alongside a modern map. You see that the rows of terraced houses on the east of Pitfield Street have gone, and are replaced by low-level residential housing blocks with a different layout.

I sketched the pub on a cold January day. I did the pen and ink on location and then retreated to my desk to do the colour.

Sketchbook 15

I cannot discover why the pub is called the “George and Vulture”. Why “vulture”? There is another pub in London of the same name, in the alleys of the City close to the Jamaica Wine House. That one was established in 1175. There was also a George and Vulture in Tottenham, 490 High Road, N172, from around 1759, now demolished.

The George and Vulture Tottenham in 1950,
image from: https://tottenham-summerhillroad.com/old_pubs_of_tottenham.htm

Can anyone throw any light on the meaning of the name?

  1. The site “urbannarrative” by local architect Steven Smith, comments on this re-building: https://urbannarrative.com/DITCHWATER ↩︎
  2. Website: “Pubology.co.uk”: https://www.pubology.co.uk/pubs/9402.html ↩︎