Rotherhithe Tunnel Shaft 3, King Edward Memorial Park, E14

A tale of two tunnels

Construction work for the Thames Tideway tunnel surrounds this small round building on the north side of the Thames, near Shadwell.

Rotherhithe Tunnel Shaft 3, King Edward VII Memorial Park, sketched 9th September 2025 in Sketchbook 16

This building is an air shaft and access point access for the Rotherhithe tunnel. The Rotherhithe Tunnel carries road traffic between Rotherhithe on the south of the river and Limehouse on the north. It was constructed between 1904 and 1908, for horses and carts. The designer was Sir Maurice Fitzmaurice.

The tunnel links Limehouse on the north of the river to Rotherhithe on the south. Built originally for horse-drawn carriages and pedestrians, the tunnel now carries far more traffic than it was designed for, which requires careful day to day management by TfL to ensure safety.

Transport for London press release 20181

This circular building is one of four shafts giving access to the tunnel. It contains a spiral staircase, which was in use from when the tunnel was opened in 1908 until the 1970s2. This access is now closed to the public. The shaft building and the staircase are Grade II listed3.

The roof in my picture dates from a refurbishment in 20074. Originally there was a glass dome5.

Location of Rotherhithe Tunnel Shaft 3, map (c) OpenStreetMap contributors.

The fences in my drawing are the perimeter of a Thames Tideway tunnel construction site. The Thames Tideway Tunnel carries sewage from central London to Becton Sewage Treatment Works. It runs under the Thames. At various points there is a junction between this main sewer and a local sewerage system. The site at King Edward VII is one such junction.

The Thames Tideway tunnel runs longitudinally along the Thames, so it crosses the Rotherhithe tunnel, which goes across the Thames. But this is not a problem, as the Thames Tideway tunnel is 60m6 below the Thames and the Rotherhithe tunnel is just 23m down7. So they do not bump into each other.

Sketchbook 16 spread

I’ve read that you can walk through the Rotherhithe Tunnel starting from one of the the tunnel entrances and passing under the shaft I’ve drawn. Those who have tried it8, even during the pandemic, do not recommend the experience. The tunnel is highly polluted from the vehicle fumes, and the pavement is narrow. It’s even pretty terrifying to drive through it in a car. Close the windows and the air vents, and stay alert while driving. If you’d like to walk a Thames tunnel, I recommend the Greenwich Foot Tunnel, or the Woolwich Foot tunnel, both of which I’ve walked. They are fun, eerie and have no traffic to pollute the air. You can read about my excursion to the Woolwich Foot Tunnel here.

Disambiguation: The Rotherhithe Tunnel I’m talking about in this post is not the same as an earlier tunnel built between 1825 and 1843 by Marc Brunel, and his son, Isambard. This Brunel tunnel was a little further upstream, and is now used as a railway tunnel only.


References:

  1. Transport For London Press release 12 June 2018 contains data about the numer of vehicles using the tunnel: https://tfl.gov.uk/info-for/media/press-releases/2018/june/rotherhithe-tunnel-celebrates-110-years-of-transporting-people-across-the-thames ↩︎
  2. Access to the tunnel via the shafts was from 1908 until the 1970s. FOI FOI-0398-2526 confirms the presence of stairs inside the shaft building: TfL Freedom of information request FOI-0398-2526: https://tfl.gov.uk/corporate/transparency/freedom-of-information/foi-request-detail?referenceId=FOI-0398-2526 ↩︎
  3. Historic England Listing: https://historicengland.org.uk/listing/the-list/list-entry/1260101?section=official-list-entry ↩︎
  4. Roof replacement 2007 confirmed by King Edward VII park “Management Plan” 2008 page 15: “The park surrounds the tunnel vent and access shaft to the Rotherhithe Tunnel. The tunnel was opened in 1908, the vent was present before the park was constructed, and early images of the park show that it visually dominated the site. The tunnel vent remains an important feature, but is no longer so visually dominant due to the present day maturity of trees in the park. The Rotherhithe Tunnel was refurbished in 2007 and a replacement roof was installed as part of these works.”
    Link: https://www.towerhamlets.gov.uk/Documents/Leisure-and-culture/Parks-and-open-spaces/king-edward-management-plan.pdf ↩︎
  5. Roof of the shaft:
    1908 – glass dome,
    by 1946 – no roof (removed in the 1930s),
    from 2007 – current roof as in my drawing.
    Evidence:
    London Picture Archive has a picture of the shaft in 1921, where you can see the glass dome that covered the shaft. Record number 118817, Catalogue number SC_PHL_01_392_A360 See this link: https://www.londonpicturearchive.org.uk/view-item?WINID=1762114518393&i=121045. They also have photographs from 1971 where it’s clear that the roof has been removed completely. See photo on this link, record number 237845, catalogue number SC_PHL_02_0666_71_35_217_30A: https://www.londonpicturearchive.org.uk/view-item?i=239938
    “A London Inheritance” post contains an aerial picture from 1946 showing that the roof had been removed by that date. See this link. This post says: ” The following photo dated 1946 from Britain from Above shows the park at lower left. Note the round access shaft to the Rotherhithe tunnel. In the photo the shaft has no roof. The original glass roof was removed in the 1930s to improve ventilation. The current roof was installed in 2007.” ↩︎
  6. Thames Tideway Tunnel information from the Tideway tunnel website: https://www.tideway.london/locations/king-edward-memorial-park-foreshore/ ↩︎
  7. Depth of the Rotherhithe Tunnel is from the website of the Rotherhithe & Bermondsey  Local History Society on this link: https://www.rbhistory.org.uk/rotherhithe-road-tunnel ↩︎
  8. Walking through the Rotherhithe tunnel: see for example “Ian Visits” : https://www.ianvisits.co.uk/articles/walking-through-a-tunnel-under-the-thames-part-1-11764/ ↩︎

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

The Prospect of Whitby, Wapping E1

Here is the “Prospect of Whitby” pub by the Thames in Wapping.

“The Prospect of Whitby” sketched 21 August 2024 at 2pm, the first picture in Sketchbook 15

The “Prospect of Whitby” is the name of a ship.

The coal boat, “Prospect of Whitby”, from the pub sign.

There is an informative entry about the whole area in “The London Inheritance” website. He writes:

“The pub was originally called The Pelican and the alley and stairs down to the river at the side of the pub to the right are still named Pelican Stairs.

The pub is listed Grade II.

Nearby is the Wapping Hydraulic Power Station, which I have sketched previously.

I sketched The Prospect of Whitby sitting against the wall opposite, and then finished off the picture on the convenient bench outside the pub.

Sketchbook 15

“The House they Left Behind” London E14

I read an article in “A London Inheritance” about this house, and went off on an expedition to find it.

“The House they left Behind”, 27 Ropemakers Fields, London E14 8BX, sketched in Sketchbook 14 28th Jan 2024 at 2pm

The London Inheritance article shows a 1986 photo taken by the author’s father. Painted on the side of the building was the sign:

THE HOUSE THEY LEFT BEHIND
BUILT 1857
RESTORED 1985

The sign has now been painted over. The wall, which is on the left of my drawing, is now completely white. But the name lives on and appears on current maps. Here is a map showing where the house is.

The building is now residential, but was previously a pub. It was “left behind” by the bombs dropped on London by the Luftwaffe in the 1939-45 conflict. The website “Layers of London” provides maps of bomb damage in London. Here is the area.

Map showing bomb damage. Classified from Total Destruction (Black), through Seriously Damaged (Dark Red) to Clearance Areas (Green).
credit:
https://www.layersoflondon.org/map/overlays/bomb-damage-1945
Map provided by London Metropolitan Archives. Geo-referenced with the support of the National Library of Scotland 

The map is based on 1:2500 Ordnance Survey sheets originally published in 1916. The bomb damage was recorded on these maps by hand soon after it happened. The circle represents where a V2 rocket landed. The red area shows buildings that were classified as “seriously damaged – doubtful if repairable”. As you see, the pub, labelled “P.H.”and outlined in red, is shown as undamaged.

I found more information on Bomb Damage Maps from a National Geographic article on a book about the maps. This article also provides a detailed key to the colours on the map. The book is “The London County Council Bomb Damage Maps” by Laurence Ward.

“A diary entry included in the book, from architect Andrew Butler on April 20, 1941, gives an idea of what the work was like:

For the block I have started on—eight floors high with two flats on each floor—has had its whole face ripped off … I found it possible to stand on part of the roof. So, clutching a broken chimney, I surveyed the damage there. My notebook became very messy. What with the dust and soot, wet filth and the perspiration of fluster on my hands, it was difficult to read what I wrote. The notes served their purpose however when, after drying the book, I had to transcribe them into a report.”

https://www.nationalgeographic.com/science/article/bomb-damage-maps-reveal-londons-world-war-ii-devastation

The original maps are in the London Metropolitan Archives.

Here is my work in progress on the sketch. Thank you to the author of “A London Inheritance” for providing the stimulus for this expedition. Thank you also to the friends and family of local resident David Newell-Smith, on whose memorial bench I completed the sketch. His dates are given as 1937-2017. He would have been a boy when the bombs were falling.

A House in East London

Here is a Victorian terraced house in East London.

A House in East London, 9″ x 12″ 21 January 2023. [commission]

This was a commissioned drawing. Thank you to my client for the commission and for their permission to post the picture here.

There were two interesting challenges in this drawing. One was the fact that the front of the house was obscured by parked cars. The other was the characteristic colour of the brickwork: a clean and lively yellow. I wanted to draw the fence without the cars, so as to show the whole house. And I wanted to get that yellow right.

I was stationed on the other side of the road. There were cars parked nose-to-tail on both sides of the road. To draw the part behind the parked cars, I crossed the road and had a look then come back and sketched and then wandered about sketching and trying to get it right, gradually becoming skilled at envisaging the fence behind the car. Fortunately it was a quiet road. The few passers-by took a friendly interest, bemused by an itinerant artist in their street.

To match the colour of the brickwork, I equipped myself with a colour chart of all the yellows I possess. Usually, old London brickwork is Mars Yellow. But in this case I discovered that it was Naples Yellow, a cleaner, paler colour, less orange than Mars Yellow, more orange than Nickel Titanate Yellow. Naples Yellow also has a pleasant chalky texture, which made it perfect for this brickwork .

Most of this picture was painted in 3 basic colours: Ultramarine Blue, Naples Yellow and Burnt Umber. Here are the detailed colours, all Daniel Smith:

  • Sky: Mostly Ultramarine Blue, plus some Lavender and Cobalt Teal Blue
  • Brickwork: Mostly Naples Yellow plus a bit of Mars Yellow in the darker places
  • Window surrounds and plasterwork: Buff Titanium (very dilute)
  • Green door: Serpentine Genuine
  • Terracotta chimney pots: Fired Gold Ochre
  • All greys and shadows: a mix of Burnt Umber and Ultramarine Blue.

The paper is Arches Aquarelle 300gsm Cold Pressed in a block. The ink is De Atramentis Document Black, applied with a fountain pen.

I did a preliminary sketch to understand the perspective and the proportions. Here are some images of work in progress. This was January and very cold. I managed to complete the pen and ink on location and then added the colour at my desk in the warm when I returned home.

Pen drawing, before the colour went on.

Wapping Hydraulic Power Station, London E1

What an amazing building! It presides over a corner of Shadwell Basin, surrounded by a high wall. I spotted it on a long weekend run, and went back later to sketch it.

Wapping Hydraulic Power Station, sketched 1 Jan 2023 in Sketchbook 12, 7″ x 9″

What’s a Hydraulic Power Station? Well, in the late nineteenth century, London’s industry needed a way to exert mechanical force: to operate a printing press for example, or to raise heavy weights, for cranes and metal forming. Also, passenger lifts had been invented, and building engineers needed a way to exert force to operate the lift. One way would be to have a steam engine on site. This wasn’t always practical. Steam engines are noisy and dirty and you don’t want one next to your desirable residence, or even cluttering up your dockyard. So here’s the next idea: instead of lots of little steam engines all over the place, we’ll have a big steam engines in just a few places, and we transmit the power from them by using water. Water? Yes. The big steam engines push water at high pressure down strong cast iron pipes, and the lift engineer at the far end effectively turns on a tap and the force of the water pushes the lift up. That’s the principle.

This sounds utterly implausible, but it worked. At the end of the nineteenth century, there was a great network of pipes all over London, holding water at high pressure. This water was used to raise passenger lifts, operate curtains at theatres, and to drive printing presses. It was used for cranes and other static machinery which required a strong, steady force. It’s a steampunk dream. Here’s a map. These pipes were everywhere.

The network of pipes supplying hydraudic power.
Map from https://www.subbrit.org.uk/features/hydraulic-power-in-london/

The plaque you can see in the centre of my drawing says “London Hydraulic Power Company 1890”. This was one of the big power stations driving the water along the pipes. The power came from a coal-fired steam engine.

This is a picture from the early twentieth century. The chimney is from the steam engine room. The tall tower houses the “accumulator” where water under pressure is stored as a buffer against variation in demand. It is a sort of “battery”. A big weight sits at the top of a column of water. The weight is raised by pumping water in using steam power. The big weight then rests on the top of the water, keeping it under pressure and forcing it down the pipes.
This drawing is from roughly the same place where I did my drawing. Note the sailing boats in Shadwell basin, to the right and in the background. The Thames is off the picture, to the left. Picture from: https://www.gracesguide.co.uk/File:Im1893EnV75-p43.jpg#file (creative commons)
Map showing where I stood to do the drawing, which is also the approximate view point of the early twentieth century picture above.

Here is a summary of the history of the building, gleaned from various web searches:

  • 1890: completed and started working. In use until 1977.
  • September 1973: first listing
  • June 1977: use discontinued
  • December 1977: Grade II* listed, including the machinery (listing ref 1242419)
  • 1993-2013 – owned and operated by Jules Wright as “The Wapping Project”: an art and entertainment venue.
  • 2013: Sold to UK Real Estate Limited
  • March 2019: planning application for an office building in the courtyard, retail and restaurant space and changes to the interior
  • October 2020: planning permission approved (ref PA/19/00564/NC and PA/19/00571/A1), despite objections from The Victorian Society and the Turks Head Charity.
  • Meanwhile – it’s an event space.

The Wapping building still has its machinery inside. It’s awaiting redevelopment. You can hire it for your fashion shoot, Christmas Party or product launch. The photos below are from the agencies advertising the use of the space: Canvas Events, and JJ Media It looks totally amazing! If you book your event there, please can I come and sketch?

The project sheet for the planning application is here: https://www.cma-planning.co.uk//images/projects/wapping_hydraulic_pumping_station/Wapping_Hydraulic_Pumping_Station_Project_Sheet.pdf

If that doesn’t work, here’s the file:

Here are some snapshots taken while I was drawing. The chimney shown in the early twentieth century drawing has vanished.

Colours used in the drawing:

  • Fired Gold Ochre
  • Ultramarine Blue
  • Burnt Umber
  • Some Transparent Pyrrol Orange, but not much.

Additional references:

https://www.rbhistory.org.uk/post/london-hydraulic-and-power-company

Turks Head Wapping, E1

I walked to The Turks Head Wapping: a restaurant among trees. After a splendid lunch, I sketched the building.

The Turks Head Wapping E1, 10″ x 7″ in Sketchbook 12, 26th August 2022, 16:30pm

The drawing took me about 50mins on location, pen and ink. I added the colour when I got back to my desk.

Before and after the colour went on.

Marvellous chimneys!

The chimneys are Transparent Pyrrol Orange. Other colours are: Green Serpentine Genuine, Mars Yellow, Burnt Umber, Ultramarine Blue, Permanent Yellow Deep, and Perylene Maroon to get the darker tiled walls. The blacks and greys are Ultramarine Blue mixed with Burnt Umber. These are all Daniel Smith watercolours. The paper is Arches Aquarelle 300gsm NOT, in a sketchbook made by the Wyvern Bindery in Hoxton.

Here is work in progress:

This is a wonderful café-restaurant – recommended. It is east of Tower Bridge, about a 45 minute walk from the City.

Dip pen and W&N drawing ink.

I’ve drawn the Turk’s Head before:

Turks Head Café Wapping

Here is the marvellous Turks Head Café, Wapping, rescued from demolition by local residents in the 1980s. Inside, I found warmth, quiet tables, and the gentle murmur of conversations: people actually talking to each other.…

Read more…

Spitalfields E1 from ChristChurch

I joined a sketching friend for a stroll around Spitalfields. We had coffee at the Cafe in the Crypt of Christchurch Spitalfields, and then sat at the tables outside and sketched the view.

Here is my sketch:

Spitalfields Market E1 from ChristChurch, 7″ square in Sketchbook 12. 1st June 2022

Behind the red-bricked buildings of the Market, you can see the office and residential tower blocks along Bishopsgate. “Principal Tower” in the one to the right.

Here are some on-location photos and a picture of the sketchbook.

Thankyou to the talented artist LA for your company and inspiration on this expedition. It’s fun to sketch together!

The Palm Tree, E3

Here is “The Palm Tree” pub, seen from the south.

“The Palm Tree” 127 Grove Road, Mile End, London E3, 28th September 2021, 10″ x 7″ in Sketchbook 10

I have often puzzled about this pub. I pass it as I’m cycling or running on the Regent’s Canal towpath. It stands alone, in a field of green, strangely isolated. Has it always been like that?

The Palm Tree stands isolated by the Regents Canal.

The answer to that question is no. It was not always isolated. It used to be surrounded by houses.

Its Historic England entry (1427142) tells me that when this pub was built, in 1935, it was surrounded by terraces of houses, Palm Street, Lessada Street and Totty Street, which have since vanished. The entry says: “the pub is the final remnant of a once built-up, industrial part of London, destroyed in the Blitz and in subsequent clearances”

Usually, an elderly resident will gesture to dense terraced housing and inform you that “this used to be all fields”. But in this area of Mile End, the reverse is true: this open green area used to be all houses!

Here are a selection of maps. You see the dense housing and close-packed streets in the late 19th century, damaged by bombs in 1944, and then replaced by pre-fabricated housing in the 1970s. The post-war prefabricated housing was demolished in 1977. In the 1979-85 OS Map, the streets are still there, but the housing has gone. By 1995 it was “all fields”, and the Palm Tree pub stands alone, as it does today.

The reason the pub has an entry in the Historic England listings is that it is Grade II listed. Amongst the many architectural delights described in the listing is the saloon bar:

The saloon bar, accessed from the furthest door along the north-east elevation, appears to remain almost entirely unchanged since construction. The higher class of the bar is apparent in the fielded dado panelling on the walls and on the curved bar counter; otherwise the internal decoration is similar to the other bars, retaining its bar back, chequered counter edge tiling and chimneypiece[……]A dartboard cabinet, possibly from the original pub, was reinstalled in the late C20. Unlike the public bar, which originally had only gentlemen’s toilets, the saloon was served by male and female toilets (set either side of the fireplace); both of these remain largely unaltered, with original doors and door furniture, tilework and, in the gents’, a Royal Doulton urinal.” [Historic England Listing number 1427142]

Reason enough to visit the pub when it is open!

Part way through this sketch it started raining, then the rain became heavy.
I finished the sketch at my desk.

The main colours are: Mars Yellow for the brickwork and plants, Fired Gold Ochre for the reddish brickwork, Perylene Maroon and Prussian Blue, plus some Mars Yellow, to make the greys, and Green Apatite Genuine for the darker greens of the trees, with highlights of Green Gold. There’s a bit of Buff Titanium for the whitish tiled part on the ground floor. All colours are Daniel Smith watercolours.

Thanks to the staff and curators at London Picture Archive, I can add this marvellous photograph of The Palm Tree in 1971:

Palm Tree Public House 1971, LCC Photograph Library, image © London Metropolitan Archives (City of London), record no. 344336, catalogue number: SC_PHL_02_0976_71_35_340A_14A, used with permission, under licence.

Note the street sign: “Lessada Street” on the right which has vanished, and the brick block at the back on the left which has completely gone, as has the wonderful lamp-post.

Apart from that, it’s not very different. All around it has changed.

“The Palm Tree” from the North, 2nd Oct 2021

The Captain Kidd, Wapping, E1

After breakfast at the Turk’s Head ( see this post ) I went down to the river. The tide was out. I sat on the Thames foreshore and sketched The Captain Kidd.

The Captain Kidd, Wapping E1. 12.10pm 14 June 2021. 7″ x10″ in Sketchbook 10

The Captain Kidd is the building at the front. It’s a pub and restaurant. The larger building behind is “St John’s Wharf”, a warehouse now converted into flats.

The “Captain Kidd” is named after a “seventeenth century pirate William Kidd who was executed [in 1701] at the nearby Execution Dock” according to various websites e.g. The Londonist.

However there is no “nearby Execution Dock”. The carefully researched article on “London Inheritance” concludes that “King Henry’s Stairs” were formerly “Execution Dock” (see note 2). The name was changed in the early 19th century to be better in line with the burgeoning use of the area for trade. The London Inheritance author cannot discover a specific “King Henry” connection. He includes a list of some of the people who were executed here, for crimes at sea including piracy, fighting on board ship, murdering shipmates, and treason.

I note with interest that, these days, the headquarters of the Marine Police are just a few hundred yards upstream. This is a very ancient establishment, which started with a one-year trial in 1798 (note 1).

Here is work in progress on the drawing. See the wonderfully clean Thames foreshore.

I drew my picture in the shade under Wapping pier. Here is a map:

Walking back to the ladder, I collected a handful of porcelain pieces, blue and white. It was as though, years ago, someone threw a china bowl onto the foreshore, and the pieces somehow stayed in the same vicinity, through many tides. Or perhaps it is several bowls.

Note 1: There is a Wikipedia article on the River police: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Thames_River_Police

Note 2. The London Inheritance article is here: