'Our House'

Day 59

 

Maida Vale - Manor House - Mansion House

 

Hi, I'm back! Did you miss me.....?

Suit yourselves...

After a scorching two weeks in the sun, taking in the delights of Valencia and its environs, I'm back and on the Wombling road again - and what a day to start on! Today is the hottest day of the year so far - with temperatures set to reach the mid thirties - so I'm feeling pretty good as I set off this morning to walk down to the station.

Naturally, it won't be quite the same as lying next to a pool in Spain, but I can't deny that a good dose of vitamin D always does me the world of good wherever I happen to be. The downside here, of course, will be the stuffiness of the underground trains - but I'll keep that to a minimum and spend as much time as possible at street level.

*** 

My first stop, and the first of a new letter of the alphabet, is Maida Vale.

Maida Vale

As anyone who's been following this blog closely will be aware, the classic ox-blood red tile design found on the outer walls of many a London tube station was the brainchild of the designer Leslie Green. Already I've encountered his work at such diverse places as Edgware Road, Elephant & Castle, Caledonian Road, Holborn, Covent Garden, Chalk Farm and Belsize Park.

How fitting then that the district in which he was born, back in 1875, should have a station featuring his own design.

Or at least, it would be if he had designed it. But this station wasn't actually the work of Leslie Green at all, but is credited to a man called Stanley Heaps.

Heaps was assistant to Green, and following the latter's early death at the age of 33, Heaps took over the job. He clearly followed Green's original designs very closely in his own work here, and at Kilburn Park - though he departed from the red tiles at places like Brent Cross, Osterley and St. John's Wood.

The station also has the distinction of being the first one to be entirely staffed by women when it opened in 1915. Sadly this had rather less to do with equal rights and positive discrimination and more to do with the fact that all the men were off fighting in the first World War. When the men returned, the women were pretty much out on their ears.

Named after a public house ('The Hero Of Maida' - which was in turn named after the town in southern Italy where British forces under the leadership of Major-General John Stuart fought a successful campaign against Napoleon's French army in 1806), Maida Vale these days is an affluent area to the north of central London. It has row upon row of the sort of grand town houses the doyens of Downton Abbey would come to for the 'Season'. Many of the houses feature ornate designs in the plasterwork, and busts of (presumably) important figures look down on me as I pass.

Grand Designs

I head first to a road called Lauderdale Road, in search of the birthplace of one of our late great actors - Sir Alec Guinness.

Birthplace of Sir Alec
Guinness

He was born here in 1914 at number 155 Lauderdale Mansions, and I fully expect to see the traditional Blue Plaque commemorating this fact outside the building. But when I get there, there's nothing at all.

This is all the more surprising as I have just walked past a Blue Plaque on the other side of the road, informing me that Tony Meehan, one of the founder members of Cliff Richards' backing group The Shadows, lived there.

Now, I have nothing against the Shadows, or Tony Meehan personally, but surely Alec Guinness is at least as worthy of a Blue Plaque as they are?



Tony Meehan Blue Plaque

I was sufficiently surprised by the omission to look up whether or not he'd merited a plaque anywhere else - perhaps he grew up in another part of town, or possibly the digs he first rented as a young understudy in the West End would be adorned with the little blue disc.

Apparently not.

The only plaque he merits - admittedly in an appropriately theatrical location - is on the wall of the actor's union Equity, on St Martin's Lane. It's in the shape of a film strip, and is "In recognition of his unique contribution to British Cinema". It hardly seems enough to me - but who am I to judge?

Maida Vale's other main connection to broadcasting - primarily radio rather than film or TV - can be found some distance from the station, in Delaware Road.

The BBC's Maida Vale Studios play host not only to the BBC Symphony Orchestra, various dramas for Radio 4, and the Live Lounge programme, but it was also formerly the home of the John Peel Sessions and the Radiophonic Workshop - the famous sound effects and music production department. The sound of Doctor Who's Tardis dematerialising, the electronic clicks and whistles as the voice of the Hitch-Hiker's Guide To The Galaxy prepares to tell us about Vogon Constructor Fleets, the gurgles of Major Bloodnok's stomach in the Goon Show - all came into being in the studios here.

I move on, eventually finding my way along the section of the A5 that shares the name of the district.



A5 / Maida Vale

It's the same road that begins life as the Edgware Road at Marble Arch, and which (after Maida Vale) becomes Kilburn High Road, then Shoot-Up Hill, then Cricklewood Broadway before returning once again to the Edgware Road, having a brief dalliance with being West Hendon Broadway, deciding that, after all, it prefers being the Edgware Road, then having another change of heart and becoming Burnt Oak Broadway, before heading off into the sunset towards St Albans. Very confusing.

In any case, I leave the A5 and head west again, back to the station.

It's been a relatively short visit - but nice though I'm sure the area is, the grand houses can only hold my interest for so long.

So it's on to the next stop - and another on named after a pub.

***

Manor House

The pub that gave Maida Vale its name is sadly long gone, whereas the watering hole that gave Manor House its name still (technically) stands at the crossroads above the station entrance - although it's no longer a working pub and now houses an organic food shop and café.

The Manor House

The pub was first built in 1810, then demolished and rebuilt in its current form in 1930, and went on to become a popular live music venue, hosting gigs by bands such as Cream, The Jimi Hendrix Experience and Fleetwood Mac.

The pub is on the busy junction where the Seven Sisters Road crosses Green Lanes in Haringey and across the road from the pub is the eastern entrance to Finsbury Park.

I have, of course, already visited the park via its southern entrance when I visited Finsbury Park tube station, but that was in the middle of winter last year, and the sun is so hot by now that I feel a quick stroll among the trees is more than justified.

Finsbury Park

The sunbathers are out in force - as are the joggers (mad fools) and, at the park café, several 'yummy mummies'.

Lesser Spotted Sunbather

I pause for a while on one of the park benches and just enjoy the warmth, while I write up my notes on the journey so far. I could stay here all day, but looking at the map I notice a reservoir to the south, which seems to have some sort of activity centre attached to it. It looks like it might be worth a visit, so reluctantly, therefore, I drag myself away from the idle pleasures, and rejoin the noise and exhaust fumes of the main road.

It takes a good ten minutes to walk to the reservoir, and initially I'm glad that it's all downhill. This feeling is somewhat tempered by the realisation, when I get there, that there doesn't seem to be any way of getting to the waterside without entering the activity centre. All I want to do is take a couple of photos, but despite investigating various side-paths and car-parks, I can't see anything beyond the tall railings and trees which surround the reservoir.

Which means, of course, that the downhill walk I was so glad of a short while ago, now becomes an uphill trudge in the sweltering heat to get back to the station, where I buy a can of cold drink and head into the sauna-like interior to catch a train onwards.

***

And so on to my third and final destination of the day.

Mansion House station (not, this time, named after a pub, but after a... well, a mansion house - obviously) is in the City Of London, and takes it's name from the building which is the official residence of the Lord Mayor of London.

Mansion House station

That's the 'Lord Mayor of the City of London' - not the 'Mayor Of London'. The latter's current incumbent, Sadiq Khan, is only the third to hold the office since its inception in 2000. The Lord Mayor's office dates back to 1189 and has had several hundred incumbents including, perhaps most famously, Sir Richard ('Dick') Whittington.

The pantomime tale of the pauper Dick Whittington (and his resourceful and intelligent cat) rising to become Lord Mayor owes little to historical fact, as the real Whittington was a successful merchant and moneylender, who was already a councilman in the City when its lands were seized by Richard II because of alleged mismanagement in 1392. When the previous Lord Mayor died in 1397, the king ordered Whittington to take the job - and it was in his first days as Lord Mayor that he managed to persuade the king to sell back the land to the City for £10,000 (about £4m today) - and it's probably this which led to his reputation as a folk hero.

All of which is, however, largely irrelevant, since the Mansion House building wasn't erected until the mid 18th Century - so neither Whittington, nor his mythical feline friend would ever have set foot inside it.



The Mansion House

It's also, confusingly, nowhere near the station that shares its name. Well, ok, it's only ten minutes walk away, but still - if you want to visit the Mansion House, you actually need to go to Bank, not Mansion House.

 

Prior to its construction, the Lord Mayors of London did their entertaining in their own homes, with larger gatherings taking place in Guildhalls. In the early 18th Century, however, it was decided to construct a vast Mansion House for the use of the Lord Mayor, and it was completed in 1752.

 

Every Lord Mayor since has occupied the house and entertained state occasions here, the most well known of which is probably the 'Mansion House Speech' given annually by the Chancellor Of The Exchequer on the state of the economy.

 

I've rather fortuitously timed my arrival within half an hour of a guided tour, and on the one day of the week when the public are allowed access to the interior of the building, so I wander around outside for a bit before joining the queue to get in.

 

This area, being so close to Bank station, is one I've already visited of course, so I stick fairly closely to the immediate surroundings of the Mansion House.

 

On one wall to the south I notice another variant of the Blue Plaque - this time the City Of London's own version:

 

Good

The 'St Stephen' in question is a church just south of the Mansion House, and Chad Varah was a vicar who had previously taken the funeral of a fourteen year old girl who had committed suicide because she thought she had contracted an STD, whereas in fact she was simply menstruating. Although starting life in this church (and despite its name, which came from a newspaper headline - 'Telephone Good Samaritans'), the organisation is secular and apolitical, and currently has 201 branches across the UK and ROI and is contacted every six seconds by those needing to talk - without fear of judgement.

 

Back at Mansion House I stand in the queue of about 8 people outside the west door - which, despite paling into insignificance against the grandeur of the north portico, is now the main entrance to the building.

 

 

Mansion House - west door

 

The north portico was in fact only used for a brief period of time, since the roads around the Bank of England proved too busy to allow regular comings and goings of the horse-drawn carriages and (later) motor vehicles of the great and good who came to visit.

 

Similarly, the west door originally led into the stables, situated on the ground floor beneath the living and dining quarters on the floors above. This too didn't last long, as the realisation (and the smell) soon hit the occupants above that eating and sleeping over a stable full of horses wasn't going to be all that pleasant.

 

Eventually, however, these 'teething troubles' were dealt with, and after a bit of judicious remodelling, the building has been in roughly its present form for several decades.

 

The interior, as you'd expect is grand, luxurious and opulent. We're only being shown the ground and first floors, as the rest are private, but this is more than enough to get a feel for the place.

 

I take many photos as we walk round, but to be honest, this sort of 'stately home' interior does little for me - though you can judge for yourself from the following selection of views:



 



The 'Wooden Horse' - the riding of which
would naturally be a painful experience
for any male malefactor



Notice in the former stables (now Gents Loo) giving the rules of the house.



 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 



 

 

 



 



 

 

 



'Receiving Throne' in The Saloon



'The Saloon' - reception area, originally an open courtyard.



 



 



 

 

 

 



 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 



 

 

 

 



The 'Egyptian Room' - location of the
Chancellor's Mansion House Speech

Ceiling of the Egyptian Room

 



 

Of more interest to me are the little titbits of information about the office and history of the Lord Mayor.

 

For example, the annual Lord Mayor's Show, which these days is an excuse for a bit pf pomp and pageantry, was originally a far more serious business. No mayor may serve more than one consecutive term in office, and in order to prove to the populace that no political chicanery had taken place, and that the new Lord Mayor was a different chap to the previous one, he was paraded round the town and put on 'show' to the people of London.

 

Lord Mayors receive no salary during their year in office, which on the face of it seems fair enough as they get to live in a grand house, with lots of servants and have banquets and go on diplomatic tours to exotic parts of the world.

 

However, in terms of the banquets at least, a large proportion of them have to be funded from the Lord Mayor's own pocket, which given the usual opulence of state occasions could amount to a fairly hefty bar tab.

 

The wife of a Lord Mayor is the 'Lady Mayoress', but a female Mayor (and there have been a couple) would still be known as 'Lord Mayor' - while her husband would have no title.

 

The first Lord Mayor to occupy the newly built Mansion House in 1752 was Sir Crisp Gascoyne - a direct ancestor of the broadcaster and erstwhile host of 'University Challenge', Bamber Gascoigne.

 

***

And that, I fear, is that for today - I'm off home to enjoy the rest of the sunshine in the comfort of my back garden, and will venture forth once more in the near future. Till then, toodle-pip!