Script
Beresford Square here in Woolwich has reopened after what has felt like an absolute age, bringing to an end its plywood era. This current incarnation showcases the square’s role as the obvious gathering place at the heart of Woolwich, but as I’m in a bleak mood I’m going to describe it as an early example of an out of town development that helped cause the downfall of the historical town centre. LOL.
Medieval Woolwich was the area around the River and High Street, and this was somewhere else entirely – Green’s End, a hamlet at the end of a green, where the local roads met. It was separated from Woolwich by farms, fields and orchards. As I can no more ignore a lost hamlet than a pigeon can ignore a dropped chip, let’s hit the old maps and photos and do a history while we dander round the lovely new square.
Here’s John Roque’s map from 1746. By this time Woolwich has the Royal Dockyard and the Arsenal is also established, known in those days as The Warren. You can also see Charlton on the map, separated from Woolwich by the fields, woods and sandpits that still shape our area.
Looking at Barker’s detailed 1749 map, we can see how the Ropeyards and the Warren have linked the town and the hamlet, and there is a rough triangle of buildings where our square is now. The lane to Plumstead heads east, and Warren Lane heads west to become the High Street as it goes through the town, leading onwards to the Lower Road to Greenwich.
The ancient Cholic Lane comes up from the common and is met to the south of Green’s End by Love Lane, at the time the route towards Charlton, then bends round the hamlet, with this stretch still known as Green’s End. The other lane that meets them here runs through orchards towards Woolwich Manor House, which was located where Hare Street meets the High Street now.
Although Cholic Lane was the main road from Woolwich to the London-Dover Road, it was a narrow lane and prone to flooding. This was obviously unacceptable for such an important road, so the New Cross Turnpike Trust were authorised to make improvements and in 1765 the New Road was completed, taking over the old lane and a new more direct alignment northwards, running to the east of the hamlet. To this day, we call it the New Road.
Powis Street was laid out between Parson’s Hill and Green’s End in 1782-3 as a bypass to the hectic High Street and Warren Lane. It was named for the Powis brothers, who had taken the leases on forty-three acres of fields in the area. As can be seen in Paul Sandby’s 1783 illustration of the view from Green’s End, the early days the street was just fenced off from the fields and was only really built up from 1800 when new 99-year leases were negotiated and bold claims made about development plans.
In the 1790s, the junction was tidied up and the now-elevated stretch of Green’s End nearest Warren Lane became known as the High Pavement. As Woolwich grew, Green’s End gained even more roads and became the place where the Army, the Arsenal and the Town met. Thomas Street and William Street (now Calderwood Street) date from 1805 and were named for two of the Powis brothers. To connect the Army’s activities on the Common with the Arsenal, the Board of Ordnance laid out Wellington Street then cleared the area of the square in 1812-13, demolishing a dozen or so cottages and other buildings including the first iteration of the Ordnance Arms pub, which re-established itself next to the New Road.
William Beresford, 1st Viscount Beresford, was an army officer and politician who fought alongside the Duke of Wellington in the Peninsular War and led the failed British invasion of Buenos Aires in 1806. In later life, under Wellington as Prime Minister, he was the Master-General of the Ordnance and as such commissioned our gatehouse.
The oldest parts of Beresford Gate, now labelled the Royal Arsenal Gatehouse, were built in 1828 and can still be distinguished. A few years later the old Ropeyard was demolished and replaced with a new street which took its name from the gates, meeting Warren Lane in front of them. Further clearances took place in 1831, and the newly formed square also adopted the Beresford name in 1837.
Around this time, the local worthies realised they’d need a church at this end of town, so formed the Woolwich Proprietary Chapel Company and raised enough money to build it. Built in 1833-34, it had an imposing Portland stone façade with a tower looming over the new square. The first minister was an Irish Calvinist who drew the crowds and made Holy Trinity popular, but high pew rent kept the poor out. Less than 20 years later, after a falling out between a new minister and the congregation, the church was bought out by the Rector of Woolwich and finally consecrated as a chapel of ease to the parish church of St. Mary’s.
Over the years the Beresford gate was added to, but the basic structure of a wider road gate with a smaller pedestrian gate either side remains. The biggest and most obvious extension in red brick was completed in 1891, a time when much of the square had been or was being redeveloped due to the market moving here.
As the town’s money moved away from stinky old Riverside town, so did the town’s market traders. The market in Woolwich first received an official charter in 1618 and was based by the High Street where a new market square was developed in the 1720s. The market outgrew this and spread onto the High Street itself. In 1808 the town commissioners attempted to make a new market on what was then the edge of town, in what is now sometimes called the Bathway Quarter. They had laid out a new square, but the move failed miserably as it was then too far out of town to get much trade. By 1824, when the Commissioners tried and failed to sell the site, their market was being used as a sacking factory.
Some market traders had drifted back to the old market but many instead set up in Beresford Square, avoiding the tolls. For a long time, the authorities fought this, with the local Board of Health and Police periodically trying to clear the area, but the market hung on and by mid-Century had become a vital part of the local economy. Still, eviction attempts continued until 1879, when common sense prevailed and the Board of Health took over the Charter in 1887 and designated Beresford Square as the official market. Tramlines had arrived in the Square in 1880, and the market would continue here among busy tram, bus and car traffic for over 100 years.
By the time of Booth’s poverty map in 1900, the old town had de-gentrified almost entirely and was now a notorious slum known as the Dusthole, with clearances already underway; the High Street was now a shabby precinct for the poorer Woolwich people. Powis Street was now the stylish main shopping street, with much of it freshly rebuilt and modernised, wholesale redevelopment enabled by the 99 year leases we mentioned earlier coming to an end. Wellington Street was also a respectable shopping destination. The further away from the stench of the river the better and all roads continued to meet at Green’s End. Our lost hamlet, as Beresford Square, was now the heart of Woolwich. A beating heart, too, as the workers pulsed in and out of the gates like clockwork.
I’ve spoken elsewhere already about Woolwich’s religious radicalism and will speak in future about the same on the political side so won’t go into massive detail here, but let’s just say we were the kind of town where a good speaker could easily attract a massive crowd. This included Will Crooks, who in 1902 became the country’s fourth Labour member of parliament when he won massively, taking the seat from the Tories. Arsenal workers would take their lunch break to listen to him when he campaigned here in the square. In 1907, he led a procession of 8,000 men from here to Westminster in protest against Arsenal job cuts.
At the time Crooks’ memorial service was held in the square in 1921, an observer noted that “the essence of Woolwich is Beresford Square”, calling it “Woolwich Bovrilized”. I think these days they would say “Marmite-ised” to add another layer to the joke. Anyway, they went on to say:
In the evening it belongs to aimless sauntering soldiers and their ladies. On Saturday nights it is a joyous county-town market-place, filled with cheapjacks, where the Cockney and the Kentish tongues are vigorously exchanged. On Sunday nights it is an arena where all the creeds of the world wrestle for supremacy: Salvation Army, Agnostic, Free Church, Socialist, Brotherhood, Ethicalist, Calvinist, Comtist, Hegelian, Bolshevist – there they gather and dispute . . . and evermore are moved on by the over-worked police. At all other times it is just Beresford Square, Woolwich, where you may buy the best of all fried potatoes.
If not distracted by a charismatic preacher or compelling argument, or a really good poke of chips, the workers would spill out of the Arsenal gates and into the pubs that ringed the square, of which just two survive, the Ordnance Arms and the Elephant and Castle. For most of the 19th century there were five pubs within falling distance of the gates, as can be seen on the 1853 map.
On the western side of the square was the Salutation, which can be seen on Barker’s map to have had a nice big beer garden. In the 1760s the inn was rebuilt and the gardens were replaced by cottages, accessed by an alleyway named after the pub. Later the pub moved a little closer to the gate and the 1760 building was split between a beerhouse called the Royal Lancer and a grocery. In 1892-3 the proprietor replaced both with a new, larger Salutation and built three new houses with shops, one of which remains and is just here on our left.
At the end of the row nearest Holy Trinity, in 1913 the Royal Arsenal Cinema Co. opened a theatre and cinema, expanded in the early 30s to hold 900. It was taken over by the Granada chain in 1952, and a year later re-named Century Cinema.
By the mid-20th century, most of the cottages in Salutation Alley had long been slum-cleared, but what little remained came down with the pub and cinema in 1961 to make room for the market pound and this piece of uninspiring late 60s crap, a building so boring even I can’t find anything nice to say about it.
Much more interestingly, while we’re talking about the pubs: although it’s hard to tell from the exterior now, all that remains of the old hamlet can be found at the heart of the Elephant block. 18 and 19 Green’s End are among the oldest in town, dating from the early 1780s. Number 18 was converted into the Elephant and Castle pub in 1848 and Number 19, now the newsagent, gained its shop extension in 1864. The pub’s single storey front extension was first built over its garden in 1884. At the time of its opening, it was one of at least five pubs with that name in London.
That front extension was replaced with a rather plainer bar in the late 1950s when the pub also expanded to include the property next door, 10 Beresford Square. By this time, the Ordnance Arms and Salutation had also lost their Victorian frontages. The pub on the corner of New Road, the Royal Mortar Tavern, kept its Victorian exterior and it appears in the mid-60s film SE18: Impressions of a London Suburb, linked to below. Also included is this photo from the 1950s showing a pleasing alignment old Elephant extension, the Ordnance Arms already modernised, and the Mortar behind it. The Royal Mortar Tavern was demolished in 1984, but the Royal Mortar Inn, adjacent, completed in 1891 to complete with the Ordnance Arms’ redevelopment, survives as the shops at 1 and 1B New Road.
The Ordnance has been held back as the last pub to discuss, coz I’ve got some potentially embarrassing photos from the late 90s that I was thinking to use as Blackmail material and wanted to give *fuzzy white noise* time to pay up. [CAPTION: THEY DID.]
The Ordnance has been more or less where it is since the original pub was lost in the first clearances; always successful due to its location, it had a yard and a stable block added in 1847. With the Market becoming official, in 1888 the proprietor Peter Edmund Brown decided it would be a good time to rebuild the whole of his island site, resulting in a much bigger premises for the hostelry as well as three double-aspect shops facing both the square and New Road. According to the Survey of London, the builder James Chapman got much work locally as a result and it is easy to see why, even with the island in a rather less glamourous state than the one with which the Mortar felt obliged to compete.
The ground floor lost its decoration in 1954, but the current works do I believe intend to restore them, as well as an entrance at the front of the building, lost to the new toilets in the 50s improvements. Sadly, the original Victorian horseshoe bar, which survived that dangerous time, was lost during the pub’s early 21st century incarnation as O’Connors. Less missed, apart from by me and the dust, is the massive metal tree added in the 1990s.
The upstairs nightclub and the large rooms upstairs where I used to live alongside *white noise* became the kind of hostel that would feature in a book called Down and Out in Plumstead and Woolwich; *longer white noise* probably less drug use *white noise* Do see Trip Advisor for more reviews by the occasional confused tourist and photos showing the same already decrepit bathrooms and kitchens from back in my day, when *extended white noise*. I wonder what happened to the shark?
Even after the Arsenal closed in 1967, the square remained busy with the market… and through traffic. The new town at Thamesmead promised even more congestion so drastic measures were needed. In 1969, the decision was made by the Greater London Council to demolish the gatehouse so that Beresford Street and Plumstead Road could be dualled. The mess of market and main roads had to be addressed.
Holy Trinity Church, sited awkwardly between the ends of Beresford Street and Warren Lane, was already gone. Despite once being the most fashionable church in Woolwich, declining attendance and lack of money had led to it becoming shabby and surplus to requirements. In the 1930s it had lost its front yard and portico to make room for a tram shelter and public conveniences. It was sold to Woolwich Borough Council in 1960 and demolished a couple of years later. New public conveniences were put on the site of the tram shelter in the 90s refurbishment, replaced with a nice-looking brick café in these latest improvements.
The extent of the 1960s demolition can be seen in the differences between the 1957 and 1971 maps. Demolition of the Beresford gate was of course opposed. It seems the expensive plans were delayed long enough that it was listed, and so the decision was made to plough through the jumble of Arsenal buildings behind it instead. I don’t think even Jon Shenanigans could make the current Beresford Street interesting, but the before and after pictures are somewhat impressive. The gate was refurbished once all the dust had settled and has since been used as office space.
The square was pedestrianised and further improvements in the 1990s saw the loss of the High Pavement, which was reinstated in the 2010 refurbishment. In 2010, I was able to get this photo of the old tramlines which were still under the square and, along with the old public toilets, exposed again during the most recent works and I believe are now lost.
Woolwich actually got off quite lightly in the 1960s compared to many places in terms of destruction – ERITH – and also never had an enormous shopping mall dumped in the middle of it like Bexleyheath, Bromley or Lewisham. This did mean that it lost its position as the premiere shopping destination locally, and soon even Eltham had more prestige as our big local names closed and the chains moved out. A lot of the Victorian town fell into neglect and was lost in the by the early 80s, including the entire block of pubs and businesses that existed where General Gordon Place is now, and the row of buildings next to the Tramshed across the New Road.
This area had been a field in the hamlet days, but by the middle of the 19th century had been completely developed with shops and other buildings facing a smokehole for the railway, which was where the pedestrian area is now, where the bus stops used to be, in front of the Equitable. The route of Love Lane continued as the alleyway through it, Peake’s Place. Woolwich Arsenal station opened in 1849, the area’s extensive sand and gravel works easily enabling a cutting for it to sit in. Electrification meant the smokehole could be closed, much to the relief of locals, in 1928.
The plan was to build the new civic centre here, with a new library, shops and offices. This never came to fruition and instead a temporary open space was established, with a children’s play park officially opened in 1985 by Blue Peter’s Simon Groom and Goldie. This was on the site of the Fortune of War pub and the last part of the block to be demolished.
It was soon forgotten that this popular park was meant to be temporary, but the basic amenities were soon shabby and required refreshment to match our big new screen, also meant to be temporary but also now very much part of the town. Works were completed in 2011. What’s left of the market has been here while Beresford Square was being done, but the reopening of the square means the water feature should feature water again soon.
I could grumble for hours about the dual carriageway crossing but apart from that there’s now a corridor of green and open spaces from Green’s End to the River. Now that we’re in the actual future, we can be grateful for the failed plans that made Green’s End green again and feel smug because the malls that made those other town centres so sexy in the seventies and eighties are now suburban blight.
References
The vast majority of the photos in this video are by Sir Chris Mansfield:
https://www.chrismansfieldphotos.com/
…the rest are mine (2008 General Gordon Place photos, blackmail material) or public domain.
The Survey of London, Woolwich:
https://www.ucl.ac.uk/bartlett/architecture/research/histories-and-theories-architecture/survey-london/woolwich
SE18: Impressions of a London Suburb
https://www.londonsscreenarchives.org.uk/title/182/
The film is a portrait of Woolwich at the beginning of its transition from independent industrial powerhouse into the often disregarded suburb of today.
Sources for everything else either Vincent or Jefferson (of blessed memory), or me (of terrible memory).
W. T. Vincent, The Records of the Woolwich District, 1890
E. F. E. Jefferson, The Woolwich Story, 1970
https://maps.nls.uk/geo/explore/#zoom=19.1&lat=51.49067&lon=0.06858&layers=170&b=1&o=100
Maps reproduced with the permission of the National Library of Scotland (https://maps.nls.uk/)
