Tower of St Anne’s Church Limehouse, E14

This is the tower of St Anne’s Church Limehouse, seen from the south.
St Anne’s is a church designed by Nicholas Hawksmoor, consecrated in 1730.

St Anne’s Church Limehouse tower, sketched 28 August 2024 in sketchbook 15

This tower shows the marine connections of this church:

The prominent tower with its golden ball on the flagpole became a Trinity House “sea mark” on navigational charts and the Queens Regulations still permit St Anne’s Limehouse to display the White Ensign”.

Wikipedia (1 October 2024)
White ensign

The White Ensign is definitely flying. In my drawing the flag is blowing away from me, so you can’t see it well. It is the flag flown by British Navy ships and certain navy-related buildings on land, of which St Anne’s in one.

The golden ball is clearly visible on the flagpole, the “sea mark” mentioned in articles about the church. I had a look to see if I could find St Anne’s on a navigational chart. The Port of London Authority offers navigational maps of the Thames – but sadly St Anne’s is not shown as a “sea mark” on any of them.

Detail from Chart 319 from the Port of London Authority. The red circle where St Anne’s is, but it’s not shown as a “sea mark”.

The church has a lovely quiet garden. I sketched from the wooden seat, watched by a robin.

Sketchbook 15

Here are other sketches I’ve done around Limehouse and Wapping, near here:

Limehouse Accumulator Tower, E14

This is the Limehouse Accumulator Tower, seen from Mill Place, London E14.

Limehouse Accumulator Tower, sketched 21 August 2024, in Sketchbook 15

In the 19th century, this building provided hydraulic power to machinery in the Limehouse docks. Hydraulic power is a way of transmitting energy from one place to another.

The problem at the time was that steam engines could generate motive force, but only where they were. You could build a big powerful steam engine, but you couldn’t put a steam engine next to every crane, capstan, or set of lock gates. You also didn’t want to fire up a steam engine every time someone wanted to use the lock gates. So you had to find a way of transmitting the power from the steam engine to the machinery which used it. And you had to find a way of storing the power so it was available on demand. Before the use of electricity was common, power was transmitted using pressurized water.

The steam engine located in this building was used to pump water into the adjacent accumulator tower, by lifting a heavy weight. The heavy weight was a neat fit on top of the water inside the tower and pushed the water down. Water does not compress. So the weight just sat there, applying pressure to the water. The pressurised water was distributed around the docks in thick cast-iron pipes. When the lock-keeper wanted to operate the lock gates they opened a tap and the force of the pressurized water opened the gates. Then they closed the taps. Far away, the weight moved down very slightly in the accumulator tower. Eventually the steam engine was used to pull the weight up to the top again.

That’s 19th century hydraulic power. Power is transmitted by pressurised water in cast-iron pipes: the original, functional, steam-punk.

I find it marvellous. I’ve drawn the much bigger London Hydraulic Power station here. The Limehouse building is smaller. It was built in 1869, one of several in the area at the time. It was restored in 1994/5, but sadly the weight and machinery are removed. There is a detailed history of the building on this link from the Greater London Industrial Archaeology Society.

Sketching the Limehouse Accumulator Tower. The modern Docklands Light Railway lines run over the Victorian bridge to the left, the bridge to the right is disused.

Standing in Mill Place to make this sketch, I became aware of all the history that is embedded in walls. The one in front of me had been altered, rebuilt, and amended several times. A bit had been added on top. Plants lived there. A graffiti artist had made their mark on the crumbling stone.

I was standing under two bridges, both 19th century. Both survivors. One holds the modern Docklands Light Railway. The other had wonderful strong vaulting. But it held no railway. I walked around trying to find out where it went. The Google aerial view confirms what I suspected: it is a ghost railway. On the bridge there is verdant greenery where the railway used to be. It goes across a second sturdy bridge, over the A13, and then stops.

Here are some maps which show the position of the Accumulator Tower and the absence of a railway (click to enlarge).

In this whole area the works of Victorian engineers make themselves felt. Each bridge is a triumph of the bricklayers’ skill: not only strikingly beautiful, with clean curves and neat detailing, but also enduring, powerful and functional 150 years later.

Sketchbook 15
map (c) OpenStreetMap contributors: click to go to the map