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I've loved Leonora Green's painting of the junction of Battersea Rise and Northcote Road ever since I first saw it in one or other incarnation of the Wandsworth Museum (probably the Old Court House in Garratt Lane).
But where is it now that the Museum has closed? Perhaps in the cellar beneath the old West Hill Library (which also once housed the Wandsworth Collection)?
Wherever it is, I fervently hope it (and all the other thousands and thousands of artefacts in the fabulous Wandsworth Collection) is safe, and will soon be on display again.
On Tuesday 9th May 2023, Philip Bradley will be giving a talk for the Tooting History Group on "Where is Wandsworth's Museum" (7.30pm at the United Reformed Church, Rookstone Road, SW17 9NO).
And on Friday 26th May, he'll be leading a walk on behalf of the Wandsworth Museum Action Group, as part of the Wandsworth Heritage Festival 2023. (Meet 2 p.m. outside Putney Library, 5—7 Disraeli Road, SW15 2DR.)
For details of the (packed) programme of events, 20th May — 11th June, pick up a copy of the full programme at your local library, or download a pdf.
If you want to know more about the campaign to save the collection and reopen the Wandsworth Museum, email me, and I'll pass on your message.
— Leonora Green, View from my window, 1932 . . .
— The early history of the Battersea Rise crossing . . .
— New hard tennis courts for London, 1923 . . .
— Silver Jubilee of King George V and Queen Mary celebrated on and around the Common, 1935 . . .
— Inwood v. Twilly on Wandsworth Common, with 2000 spectators, 1845 . . .
— Twilley Street and the Twilley Asteroid . . .
— A Sign in the Wandsworth Heavens, 1939 . . .
— Bowls — marbles for grown-ups, 1934 . . .
— Wandsworth Fair, 1837... . . .
— A new railway station suggested for Trinity Road, 1914 . . .
— On the Common, Broomwood Road celebrates the end of the war, 1945 . . .
— The moving Dancing Green, 1934 . . .
— Last May's Chronicles — 2022
— Rough-and-ready index of all stories in the Chronicles so far.
Leonora Kathleen Green (1901-1966), Crossroads from my window, 1932.
This scene near Clapham Junction shows the lowest point of Battersea Rise, with Northcote Rd to the right and St John's Rd to the left. It would have been well-known to the author Pamela Hansford Johnson (b.1912). Her home, at 53 Battersea Rise, is almost in view at the top of the picture.
Here's a photographic view of the same crossroads, perhaps a few years earlier, from the other side:
Notice there are no traffic lights. A policeman with white gloves stands "on point duty" in the middle of the road and controls by hand gestures the flow of cars, buses, cars, vans, motorbikes, bicycles, prams, people and dogs.
[I wonder when lights were first installed? Am I right in recalling that PHJ writes about the coming of the lights in her first novel, This Bed Thy Centre (1935)? Is the dismal pub that she so gruellingly decribes the Northcote Tavern? Drat, I've mislaid my copy, so I can't check. Can anybody help?]
[The bus shown coming from Northcote Road is numbered 19, with the destination "Highbury Ba[rn]". The route between Highbury and Clapham Junction began in 1906, and was not extended to Tooting Bec (and sometimes beyond) until 1934, a couple of years after the painting. I only ever recall 49s going along Northcote Road, with 19s going up Battersea Rise (behind the viewer in the painting) in the direction of Emanuel School, Wandsworth Common North Side, Trinity Toad, and Tooting Bec Station. (Wikipedia: London buses route 19.]
[The white on black "TRAMS" sign is pointing towards the Falcon/St John's Hill/Lavender Hill, the nearest point for trolleybus and tram services. As I mentioned in Chronicles for July 2022>, there were plans to construct trams along Bolingbroke Grove but they came to nothing - possibly because the strip of grass opposite Battersea Cemetery, which planners might have assumed could be coopted, was protected by the 1871 Wandsworth Act.]
The pub on the right of the painting is The Northcote Tavern.
In the 1881 Census, Charlie Chaplin's dad (also named Charles) is shown as a barman there and his uncle Spencer as "Manager to a Publican". (See PubWiki: Northcote Tavern).
Northcote Road as a street market
At the end of the nineteenth century Northcote Road became a popular street market — as it still is (though it's much posher now). When shops were built along St John's Road, the barrows were moved along to Northcote Road (which until 1890s had very few shops). Conflicts were endemic between shopkeepers and stallkeepers (costermongers).
In the 1950s, my mother frequently took me to May's stall on Northcote Road, just a few yards along from the pub. I recall they only sold potatoes. Mountains and mountains of them. Whites or King Edward's? Whites were cheaper. We were spoilt for choice.
I've tracked down a couple of adverts that feature in Leonora Green's painting — notice how detailed they are (even in this poor reproduction).
[Jason Hazeley was the first to suggest the poster top right was for Guinness — "Life seems brighter after Guinness" was their slogan at the time. Congratulations, Jason.
[Here's a view of the back of a similar bus - notice the curving external stairs to the upper deck, with a "Buy Dunlop" advert, as in the Leonora Green painting.]
Leonora Green was perfectly placed to paint the scene. She lived at 70 Battersea Rise, with her piano-tuner/repairer father.
I would love to know more about Leonora Green, and to find more of her paintings. But it's proving very hard. I know she studied at Camberwell School of Art, and there is a suggestion that she may have been an RA (or at least exhibited at the Academy). Two marvellous still-lifes of food — from WWII, both in the Imperial War Museum — can be seen on the ArtUK website here.
Other than that, I've found very little. If you know anything more, please please let me know.
The origin and development of the Battersea Rise crossing
The Battersea Rise—Northcote Road—St John's Road crossing originated not in the meeting of roads, but where an east-west road crossed a northward-flowing river.
This road was once the main route from Kingston to Clapham and then on to London and Canterbury, and hence was called in the early 18th century the Canterbury Way. Since the late 1930s it has formed part of the zig-zaggy A205, better known (in defiance of geometry) as the South Circular. (It was somewhat supplanted in significance at the end of the 18th century century by a new road which today follows the line of St John's Hill, Lavender Hill, and Wandsworth Road.)
Until the middle of the nineteenth century, the Commons almost met at the river crossing, with only a narrow isthmus separating them — as you can see in this Rocque map of c.1740:
Notice the road is also a drove lane or track connecting two areas of "waste" or "heath" — Battersea West Heath (one side of Wandsworth Common) and Battersea East Heath (Clapham Common). You can tell because of the almost bird-beak-like funnels that helped Commoners herd their animals from one heath to the other.
[Notice, incidentally, that the "Battersea Rise" marked on the Rocque map does not carry directly across from east to west, as it does today. At this time it denotes a zig-zag route running westward from Clapham Common, north along the west side of the lakes, crossing the Falcon Brook at the Falcon pub, then left up what is now St John's Hill past The Plough pub and on to Wandsworth.]
The stream (highlighted in blue) is the Falcon Brook (known to Anglo-Saxons as Hydaburna or Hidaburna, then Hydeburn, and more recently still as York Sewer). Towards the end of the nineteenth century this stream and the series of lakes was culverted and Northcote Road and St John's Road built on top. Not easy to imagine, is it?
To the north, three quite large lakes (two with islands) lead into a marshy area, wittily named "The Wash" — which was notoriously pestilential. This was crossed by the "new turnpike road" between Wandsworth and London. (The famous Falcon pub was on the west side (there at least since 1733, but perhaps a lot longer).
The stream then continues northward (beneath Falcon Road) and then westward towards the Thames. Was the Falcon Brook crossed by bridges or fords?
By the 1840s, road corresponding to St John's Road has been created — the lakes have been drained and filled, and the stream re-routed a short distance to the west. (See the tithe map for Battersea.)
By 1869 the stream and lakes had been buried underground in a culvert — a fat pipe — and, over the next twenty or thirty years, Northcote Road and St John's Road constructed on top. (If you stand near the slotted sewer covers in the middle of Northcote or St John's roads, you can often hear the water rushing beneath.)
BTW, the name "Northcote Road" appears to derive from the prominent Conservative politician Stafford Henry Northcote, though exactly why is not obvious (to me):
New hard tennis courts open throughout London . . .
HARD TENNIS COURTS
Fifty-Eight More Open in London Parks To-day.
There will be better facilities for lawn tennis in the London parks this season, which opens to-day. Fifty-eight new hard courts have been laid down by the L.C.C. Last year there were only 56 courts. This year there will be 114.
New courts will be found at . . .
The registration fee for hard courts has been increased from 1s. to 2s. 6d., but the charge for playing on the black courts has been reduced from 1s 6d. to 1s. per hour.
For the admirable red rubble or green courts the charge is 1s 6d.
The rule that must players must prove residence in the county of London bas been relaxed.
"Black courts . . . Admirable red rubble or green courts"?
Part of the significance of this story is that it shows the London County Council spending money on popular sports at a time when private clubs were proliferating, but priced beyond the means of most local people. The LCC is finally able to improve facilities in the recently restored "Extension" area (which we now call the Cricket Field), commandeered during WWI and beyond by the Third London General Hospital. (See e.g. the Chronicles for April 2023
Tennis had become massively popular around 1900, but was generally organised ad hoc, on open ground rather than proper courts, as this photograph shows:
By 1913, the LCC had taken responsibility for formally marking out grass courts on the Common.
The people of Wandsworth and Battersea celebrate the Silver Jubilee of King George V and Queen Mary . . .
An extraordinary range of activities throughout Battersea and Wandsworth were organised to celebrate the Royal Jubilee, including the distribution of 37,000 beakers and 7,0000 spoons sent to schools and colleges in the Borough, free cinema and zoo trips, tree-planting, and lavish celebratory meals. Battersea Town Hall was floodlit "from 9 p.m. to 1 a.m. for the whole two weeks".
Flags, garlands and streamers adorned every street — none more so than Orville Road, one of Battersea's poorest streets.
"Orville Road is exceptionally brilliant. Everybody in the road has united, with the result that that is possibly the probably the brightest side street in Battersea. Not only are flags and streamers and garlands lavishly displayed, the fronts of the houses have been brightened.
Of their own accord the men of the road have painted broad bands of red, white and blue round the doorways and the windows.
An appreciative postcard has been received from a gentlman, who signs himself "Mr X.". The children are to be given a tea in the road. "Mr X." hopes they will sing the King's favourite hymn, "Abide with me", as well as the National Anthem. They will, and will also sing "God Bless the Prince of Wales"."
A very jolly time was had by all — well, almost all (see the face of the baby in the high chair on the right) . . .
[For a superb account of late-Victorian Orville Road, see Keith Bailey, "Orville Road, Battersea: A Victorian Slum" — a Case Study of Charles Booth's Survey", Transactions of the London and Middlesex Archaeological Society (LAMAS) — Download pdf).]
At Bolingbroke Hospital, all patients were given a mug and allowed to have two friends to tea on Monday afternoon.
On Wandsworth Common, as elsewhere throughout the country, boy scouts were entrusted with a great beacon, to be lit at the top of Bellevue Road.
THE ROYAL JUBILEE
Wandsworth Programme . . .
BEACONS ON THE COMMONS
On Monday, May 6, the Mayor and Mayoress will attend the thanksgiving service at St Paul's Cathedral. At 10pm his worship will light the beacon at the top of Streatham Common. Similar beacons on Wandsworth Common and Tooting Bec Common will be lighted at the same time. The beacons are in charge of the boy scouts' organisations throughout the borough . . .
MP TO LIGHT BEACON
Sir Henry Jackson MP will light the beacon on Wandsworth Common, opposite the "Surrey Tavern" at 10 p.m. on Monday . . . .
I have no idea what our Wandsworth Boys Scouts' beacon looked like, but here is a splendid cutaway illustration of the one lit by the king himself:
Why the top of Bellevue? Well, probably because the stretch of road top of Burntwood Road and the corner of Bellevue is (almost) the highest point of the Common (c.34 metres), with views to Wimbledon to the southwest (before the houses were built on Sandgate Lane?) and London to the north.
"The one mile between Robert Inwood of Tooting, Surrey, and A. Twilly of Wandsworth, came off on Monday last, on Wandsworth Common . . . but Twilly was fat and anything but up to the mark for a mile race . . .
Last month I mentioned a race advertised to take place in May between the "pedestrians" Inwood and Twilly — the latter's first professional race (that I know of). There must have been a good deal of excitement about the match, because the crowds was said to be "nearly two thousand", and "a good deal of money was laid out".
INWOOD AND TWILLY
The one mile between Robert Inwood of Tooting, Surrey, and A. Twilly of Wandsworth, came off on Monday last, on Wandsworth Common.
The men and their friends agreed to meet at the Plough Inn, according to articles, at seven o'clock in the evening, but the time running was not sent to us by the landlord of the Plough, which should have been done, that the spectators, who mustered numerously from London and other places, might not have been detained from three o'clock to seven.
Inwood, who had been in training under the care of the celebrated Robinson of Newton Moor, at Blackheath, looked in first-rate condition, but Twilly was fat and anything but up to the mark for a mile race. This made the odds in betting 2 or 3 to 1 on Inwood, which was freely offered by the knowing ones from London, but not so freely taken, although a good deal of money was laid out.
At a quarter past seven o'clock the spectators, who numbered nearly two thousand, many of whom seemed quite tired of waiting, had the pleasure of seeing the men stripped and ready for action.
The signal being given, the men were soon at work, Inwood taking the lead at a merry pace, and at the first quarter of a mile beaded his opponent by a dozen yards, and continued gaining ground fast, Twilly already seeming in great distress, and he, finding that he had not a chance, gave up at half the distance, dead beat, Inwood running in an easy winner.
Twilly's friends seemed thunderstruck at his giving up so early in the race, and many said he had not done his best to win; but this we are assured that was not the case, for he struggled to his utmost to keep going, and when he gave up he was quite black in the face.
Not to forget the supporting act:
Berry of Lambeth and Pope from the West-end, ran a race of 100 yards, for a small stake, upon the same ground, the latter receiving three yards start, which ended in a dead heat, after a well contested race.
You may recall that last month I posed a couple of Twilley-related questions, including the whereabouts of Twilley Street:
As I'm sure you knew, Twilley Street runs on the east side of the Wandle and joins Garratt Lane — it's where you'll find the Wandsworth Royal Mail Delivery Office.
Does anybody know the origin of its name? There have been Twilly/Twilley families in Wandsworth for at least two centuries. The name looks as if it might be a corruption of a Huguenot name, such as "Tuilley", doesn't it. But alas none is listed on e.g. the Huguenots of Spitalfields website (whose coverage is rather broader than its name implies) — the nearest is "Tillet", which is perhaps too much of a stretch.
That said, my old friend John Jackson, who taught at Earlsfield (or Tranmere Road) School in the 1960s, has told me the longtime head teacher there, Royston C. Twilley, said he was from local Huguenot stock.
And as for this image . . .
The explanation? Royston Twilley was the "inspirational teacher" behind astronomer Edward Bowell. Bowell went from Earlsfield * to Emanuel School, then University College London, the University of Paris, and on to become the principal investigator of the Lowell Observatory Near-Earth-Object Search (LONEOS).
[ * At least I think it was Earlsfield, but it is possible Royston Twilley taught at another local school (near the Wandle) before becoming head at Earlsfield. Can anybody confirm? ]
In a long career, Edward Bowell discovered 571 minor planets, the periodic comet 140P/Bowell-Skiff, and the non-periodic comet C/1980 E1. In 1981 the outer main-belt asteroid 2246 Bowell was named in his honour.
There's a marvellous interview with him on the Lowell Observatory website in which he talks about his influences growing up in our part of south London. Here's an extract:
My father was what in Britain is known as a schoolkeeper. That might be called a caretaker in the U.S., but it was a more glorified job than that, because he had to take care of buildings and grounds and hiring and firing of cleaners and that sort of thing. Anyway, the connection with astronomy is that I lived in what were called schoolkeepers’ houses until my father died in 1959 when I was fifteen.
That meant that when all the kids went home, I had the run of these huge playgrounds. One of the things I used them for was looking at the night sky when everyone had disappeared. There were dark places in these very large playgrounds.
To go on from there, my father bought me a one-inch telescope when I was twelve, and the first thing I looked at was Jupiter, and I saw its moons, and I did exactly what Galileo did in 1610 or whenever it was, and followed the moons, without knowing anything about astronomy, but I could see from night to night that things had changed. I didn’t figure out that the moons were in orbit or anything advanced like that, but I could see things changing. And that, in a sense, began a fascination with planetary astronomy, which has been my field, and is still my main interest to this day, even in retirement. [00:04:35]
Teachers, yes, I had one teacher who was absolutely seminal in my development. His name was Roy Twilley, T-W-I-L-L-E-Y, and I first came across him when I was about eight years old. He had an idea that little kids ought to learn how to do original research. And in my case, what that consisted of, was to walk the whole length of a short river, a tributary to the Thames, called the Wandle, W-A-N-D-L-E.
That river was nine miles long, and we went as a group after class, one evening per week, and we stopped along the way and looked in public libraries at the libraries’ archives, and we made notes and so on. And one of the most astonishing things I remember from that episode was to learn that in the 1700s there were 200 water mills along this nine-mile stretch of river. Now, that’s one every fifty yards or something, so I don’t know how they did that. But the even more incredible thing was that there were still a couple of them operating in the 1950s, and so we visited those. One of them was a tannery, and the other one was a paper mill.
But anyway, I mention all of that which has nothing, apparently, to do with astronomy, but it does have something to do with learning how to learn, how to find out original facts that you wouldn’t readily find in books or walking around the street. And so that inculcated into me an idea of how you go about finding out something.
[The interview continues with his time at Emanuel.]
[Lowell Observatory: Edward "Ted" Bowell.]
Isn't that wonderful?
And while we're talking about space stuff . . .
"A SIGN IN HEAVENS"
0n Sunday night many people, especially those walking across Wandsworth Common and other open spaces, saw the meteor which flashed across the sky about nine o'clock on Sunday night. It was green with yellow and white sparks, and was shrouded in what looked like a mist. It has been stated that the meteor was probably about 50 to 100 miles from the earth.
Bowls — marbles for grown-ups . . .
It is not a thing we should like everybody to know, but it is a fact none the less — that the bowling green at Wandsworth Common is a very pleasant place. And why shouldn't that be known to everybody?
Well, we believe it would cause pain to many excellent and charitable people in the provinces if they knew, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that Battersea and Wandsworth children have grassy spaces to romp on, beautiful trees to look at and even to climb (when the keeper is not about), and clumps of flowery furze among which to play hide and seek.
Those people in the provinces have been brought up to believe that children born and bred in London's industrial areas never see a blade of grass and never have the delight of gazing on opening buds in springtime. And it gives those good people much joy to try and better the lot of the poor children in London...
All the same, the bowling green at Wandsworth Common is an extremely pleasant place. particularly when the sun is shining, and the lower borders are blooming and the birds are warbling, and when rival teams of bowlers are strenuously striving for cups and medals.
Among the many people who enjoy the pleasantness of the bowling green at Wandsworth Common is Mr. W. S. Sanders, ex-M.P. for North Battersea, and prospective candidate for the further representation of that desirable constituency.
We do not know if Mr. Sanders plays bowls — a form of marbles for grown-ups — but he watched the games on Saturday with peculiar interest. And while he watched he talked, which a man who has taken up politics may do with ease to himself and with pleasure, if not with profit, to those who listen. ...
Wandsworth Fair, 1831 . . .
Wandsworth Fair . . . decidedly the best suburban fair west of the metropolis, terminated, after three days' duration, during which it was visited by thousands of the middling and lower classes of society, without, we are happy to say, the slightest infringement upon the rural games being attempted by any would-be overbearing aristocracy . . .
What a wonderful first sentence (and indeed the rest) . . .
Wednesday, Wandsworth, decidedly the best suburban fair west of the metropolis, terminated, after three days' duration, during which it was visited by thousands of the middling and lower classes of society, without, we are happy to say, the slightest infringement upon the rural games being attempted by any would-be overbearing aristocracy; and it was gratifying to find that the nobility, gentry, and magistracy resident within the vicinity promoted the manifold amusements, to the great delight of the visitors, who, relieved from the cares and fatigue of their several occupations, determined to have a "jollification," being impressed with the idea that relaxation at times was positively necessary for the body as well as the mind, in order to create fresh vigour upon return to business.
There was scarcely a landlord either in Battersea, Wandsworth, or Putney, but sent forth his programme of amusements for the entertainment of the town and country folks.
A variety of prizes were given by the hosts of the several inns and taverns for donkey racing, climbing a greasy pole for a leg of mutton, jumping in sacks, running for a shift, gingling matches, single-stick, wrestling, &c., and the candidates in general were very numerous, and their exertions likewise produced considerable fun and laughter.
There were aquatic sports on "Old Father Thames," and the numerous rowing and sailing matches afforded plenty of life on the water.
In the fair there were a large number of eating and drinking booths, and the edibles and potables were disposed of with a rapidity that would have astonished the renowned "Dando" *, had he been present. The hall rooms, dancing booths, or "hops," as they are technically termed, were crowded almost to suffocation; but, nevertheless, they were fair specimens of good nature, pleasure, and happiness.
It is true that at each assembly a master of the ceremonies attended from the metropolis, to arrange the dances and keep good order; but the fact was, there was nothing like ceremony about it. Pride was out of the question; every man was as good as his neighbour, and the female portion of the company, the delicate votaries of Terpsichore, were all alive and merry on the " fantastic toe!"
The assemblies generally commenced with quadrilles and terminated with country dances; and there was no time nor room for criticism respecting the steps — every one did his best, and hops, skips, and jumps passed unnoticed. There were a number of theatrical shows, and on this occasion "the tag-rag children of Thalia, Melpomene's poor mob," mustered strongly, and great were their endeavours "to astonish the natives."
A branch of the renowned "Muster" Richardson's show, in which were the united companies of the late hero of Bartlemy and Scowton, shone conspicuous, and some — idea may be formed of the celerity of the movements of "the heroes of the' — sock and buskin, " when it is stated that in many of these practical theatres a five-act tragedy, or melodrama, in which three murders were perpetrated, and as many ghosts in blue, green, end red fire made their appearance, and vanished through vampire traps, together with a comic song, a terrific broadsword combat, and a pantomime, was flayed in the short space of twenty minutes by Shrewsbury clock.
The equestrian and tight and slack-rope performances were good.
There were also Jim Crows, conjurors, fire-eaters, learned pigs, wild Indians, white-haired infants, and fat boys in abundance.
Such were the humorous features displayed at this rustic fete at Wandsworth. It was all happiness; everybody appeared pleased and satisfied, and not the slightest disorder occurred.
[* Edward Dando (c.1803 — 28 August 1832), born Southwark — infamous for his voracious appetite. He would order and eat to excess at food stalls and inns, then reveal that he had no money to pay. He was particularly fond of oysters. He once ate 25 dozen (300) of them at a sitting, and would have eaten more but his ruse was discovered.
Dando put up a spirited defence of his actions:
I refuse to starve in a land of plenty. Instead I shall follow the example of my betters by running into debt without having the means of paying. Why, some men live in great extravagance and luxury, owe money and cheat their creditors, yet they are still considered respectable and honest. I only run into debt to satisfy the craving of hunger, and yet I am despised and beaten.
You will not be surprised to read that his life was soon cut short. He is said to ave succumbed from cholera (which appropriately enough is spread by water) during the first British epidemic. Read the Wikipedia article about "Edward Dando", and AllThingsGeorgian, "Dando: the celebrated gormandizing oyster eater" — both really good.]
A new railway station is suggested for Trinity Road . . . if one is not forthcoming, there are fears that a bus service down Earlsfield Road would cause the houses to fall down . . .
WANDSWORTH RATEPAYERS' ASSOCIATION.
SUGGESTED RAILWAY STATION
The hon. secretary reported that since the last meeting he had had a letter from the general manager of the London and South Western Railway, stating that the company had carefully considered the association's proposal of a station at Wandsworth Common, near Trinity road, but were unable to adopt the suggestion.
Mr. Robertson thought that the association should persist. Five hundred people had signed the petition for a station, and if each one contributed a shilling the £25 might act as an inducement to the company to open a station.
Mr. Thomas said that a station would cost at least £1000...
Mr. Plumridge remarked that the company might be informed that if a station were not established the residents in and near Trinity road would consider the advisability of asking the motor bus companies for a service.
Mn Robertson: If the buses are to come down Earlsfield road I, for one, shall oppose it, especially if my house falls down . . .
Happy evening on the Common — Broomwood Road celebrates the end of the war in Europe . . .
HAPPY EVENING ON THE COMMON
Broomwood Road's Celebrations
The Mayor and Mayoress were present for nearly an hour at a party on Saturday given to about 40 children of Broomwood-road. Owing to the traffic which uses the road the party was held on Wandsworth Common.
On arriving the Mayoress was presented with bouquet of tea roses, which, she said were her favourite flowers. They were given to her by six-year-old Joyce Runacres.
The highlight of the tea, which included sandwiches, pastries. jellies, blancmanges, and trifles was a large iced "victory" cake with an iced "V" motto on top.
After tea there were races for money prizes. The small tots enjoyed themselves on a rocking horse lent by Mrs. Lawrence.
As soon as it was dark enough came the event for which every boy and girl had been waiting expectantly — a firework display given by Mr. Lillistone.
The organisers of the party were Mesdames Runacres and Murphy, and Mr. F. Griffiths, assisted by Mesdames Runacres, jun, Griffiths, Dagley, Lawrence and Brown. Miss Runacres, and Messrs. Dagley and Lawrence.
Other local celebrations (pdf).
A Dancing Green for Wandsworth Common.
In our ongoing quest to locate the elusive Routh/Baskerville bandstand, take a look at this . . .
WANDSWORTH COMMON DANCING GREEN
At the meeting of Wandsworth Borough Council on Wednesday the Cemeteries Committe reported that on April 22 the Mayor, with Councillor Robinson and Alderman Buchanan, met the chairman of the Parks Committee of the County Council, accompanied by Councillor Cooper Rawson and other members of the County Council, on the portion of Wandsworth Common at the rear of houses in Baskerville road which had been selected by the County Council as a site for a dancing green and bandstand.
Representatives of the residents in neighbourhood who petitioned against the proposal were also present.
After prolonged discussion it was tentatively arranged that as no other suitable ground could be available as a dancing green this season and as the preparations made by the County Council were practically complete, the site selected should be utilised for the purpose during the ensuing summer, but that in the meantime the County Council should take steps with a view to the dancing facilities being transferred next season to another portion of the common lying to the south of Routh-road and more remote from private residences.
Second thoughts prevailed with the County Council. A dancing green remote from houses has been provided.
There was no discusson.
It appears to imply that in 1921 the dancing green (and bandstand?) were situated "at the rear of houses in Baskerville Road" (where it seriously vexed some residents) - probably where the children's playground is now. But that it was expected that it should soon be relocated "south of Routh Road". Did it move, and if so when? Possibly to a spot a couple of hundred yards away, near the Routh Road/Baskerville Road passage, where some older residents remember it was at last until sometime in the 1950s?
Coming soon — an annotated transcription of John Buckmaster et al's"Beating of the Bounds" of Battersea Parish in May 1862.
There's encouraging talk about a pilot walk that could be tried out this summer with a view to organising a larger scale event next Spring. If you want to know more, let me know.
SO many more stories to tell. But that's all for now, folks.
If you would like to receive occasional notifications of new Chronicles, let me know.
I've made a rough-and-ready index of all stories in the Chronicles so far.
Or click on the links to the individual months below.
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Back to the top of the page . . .
Turf Wars — How Sport Transformed Wandsworth Common, Part II.
Video of a talk to/for the Friends of Wandsworth Common, Tuesday 29 November 2022. There's still more to be said, so, who knows, there may even be a Part III.
Turf Wars — How Sport Transformed Wandsworth Common, Part I
Video of a talk to/for the Friends of Wandsworth Common, Tuesday 29 November 2022.
The Black Sea: Birth, Life, Death (video of talk to the Friends of Wandsworth Common, 18 October 2022).
Maps and the Making of Wandsworth Common (video of talk to the Friends of Wandsworth Common, April 2022).
Magical History Tour: From "The Beeches" to the "Belgian" Congo (video of talk to the Friends of Wandsworth Common, 18 January 2022).
Victorian Photographer Geoffrey Bevington and the Search for Ivy House — video of Zoom talk to the Wandsworth Historical Society, 26 November 2021.
Down with the Fences Part II (May 2021) [link and info to be added].
Down with the Fences Part I (March 2021) [link and info to be added].
Wandsworth Common / WaterWorld (March 2021) [link and info to be added].
What a Carve Up (January 2021) [link and info to be added].
The Hidden History of Loxley Road (date 2020) [link and info to be added].
HistoryBoys Talks & Videos etc, with links
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