National Gutters Day : Penarth

Today is National Gutters Day 2021, which has motivated me finally to write another post for this blog, to share these photos of some gutters in the Victorian seaside town of Penarth, in south Wales.

 Built originally between 1889 and 1891, then rebuilt in 1926 after a devastating fire, All Saints Church sits in a tree-filled green space in central Penarth. As you see from the photo above, its gutters are not dated so I’m not sure if they date from the late 19th century or from the more recent reconstruction.

 

Here’s another dating mystery. This gutter hopper adorns the Mortuary Chapel at Penarth Cemetery. The building itself does not appear to be listed, and a search of the Welsh newspaper archives failed to turn up any information on the building of the chapel, though I did discover that the first burial in the cemetery was in 1903. I’ve also not turned up any information on the Glaswegian foundry that made this item.
 

As you can see, this gutter on the old building at Stanwell School has not been well maintained so it’s difficult to make out its surface decoration. An article in the Weekly Mail of 23 January 1897 reported on the recent opening of Penarth Intermediate School which, though it has since changed its name and been much expanded, continues to serve the education needs of local community in the 21st century.
 

Headland School was originally the Penarth Hotel, built in 1868 by the Taff Vale Railway Company, when Penarth docks handled a lot of the exports of coal pouring down from the valley of the River Taff. The building was repurposed after World War One, when it was purchased by the widow of a war casualty, one Major J.A. Gibbs. In the Major’s memory, his wife gifted the building to the authorities who ran the National Children’s Homes, who used it from July 1921 as a nautical training school.

Cardiff : St Mary’s Church

Even in the short time I have been in Wales – not yet five years, I have seen massive change in Cardiff and not, in my opinion, for the better. Rather than valuing the city’s history with projects that conserve and restore life to the heritage buildings, the city council seems intent on letting developers swamp Cardiff’s lovely old buildings with tall and ugly tower blocks. And don’t even get me started on the (surely now) outdated trend of façadism – there are at least two such construction projects underway in the central city as I write this – such lazy architectural design!

The reason for today’s rant is that I almost missed seeing what remains of St Mary’s Church because of yet another inner city construction project. The church itself is long gone – and I do mean long – due to the severe damage it suffered in the Great Flood of 1607, the church was abandoned in 1701. But the ghost of the church remains as an outline of pale stones on the side of the building that now stands where it once stood.

John Speed's 1610 map of Cardiff, Wikimedia Commons;
St Mary's is at bottom right

St Mary’s began life as a Benedictine priory way back in 1107, but its riverside location (prior to the River Taff being diverted in 1850) meant it was always susceptible to flooding and, apparently, bodies were frequently washed out of its graveyard.

In 1878, the site of St Mary’s was used for the construction of a theatre, the NewTheatre Royal, but that once grand building has seen many subsequent reincarnations, even for a time being a cinema showing pornographic films – I can’t imagine what the Benedictines would have thought of that. The building is currently a Wetherspoon’s pub, the Prince of Wales.    

I don’t know how visible the outline of St Mary’s will be once the current construction project, part of the Central Square development, is finished but, if the wide expanses of bland concrete underfoot and the wind-tunnel-creating skyscrapers overhead are anything to go by, I doubt the developers would have even considered a nod to Cardiff’s historic past, so I’m glad I managed to pay homage to the old St Mary’s Church before it disappears.

Portland : two windmills

On the Isle of Portland you will find the only remains of old windmills in the whole of the county of Dorset and, sadly, there’s not much left of them to see.

In such a wild and windy location, it’s no surprise that, in medieval times, the local farmers used windmills to have their grain milled in to flour. A signboard near one of the stone towers explains:

The windmills were principally sited to utilise the open, windy landscape of the island and to provide a grain grinding facility for the local community.
Although the land was farmed by many individuals, the crop grown in a particular area was a common one and meant that harvesting took place all at one time.
The Islanders would bring their own grain to be milled as they wanted to use it. The miller would take some of the flour for his pay.

The windmill remains consist of two stone towers standing around 135 metres apart, now labelled the North windmill and the South windmill – I’m sure they once had different names, perhaps those of their owners or millers. According to the Historic England website, both towers are thought to date from the 17th century. The towers were constructed of rough coursed rubble, with walls approximately 650mm thick, and have a diameter of about 4 metres. The North windmill is now 5.5 metres tall and the South 7 metres.

The signboard gives a couple of interesting facts about the mills:

North windmill ... The timber wind-shaft was removed from the tower in 1983 after it became unsafe and has been stored in the garden of the Portland museum ever since.
South windmill ... This windmill incorporated an inserted concrete floor slab on corrugated shuttering probably from World War Two.

But, if you’re keen to read a more thorough history of the mills, the Encyclopedia of Portland History has a wonderfully informative entry here.

East Sussex: Priory Park, Lewes

Mention ‘ruins’ and, in the blink of an eye, my camera bag is packed, and I’m in the car, ready to go! So, when Jill suggested we visit the site of an old priory, I said yes immediately (and, even better, it’s in a public park, so no entrance fee).

This from the signboard at the entrance:

The Priory of St Pancras, founded about 1078, was one of the largest and most powerful monasteries in England. It was of international importance as the first Priory in England linked to the influential Abbey of Cluny in Burgundy, France. What you see today are the ruins of this once magnificent establishment. After nearly 500 years most of it was deliberately destroyed in 1538 during the Reformation on the orders of Henry VIII.

As the sign goes on to say, it’s difficult now to imagine how grand and imposing the whole site must have been in its heyday – there were approximately 100 monks living and worshipping here in the 12th and 13th centuries, though there were only 24 at the time of its demise – but the frequent signboards around the site do a good job of helping the visitor imagine how the huge buildings once dominated this landscape (like the image below).

As  well as the enormous Priory church and its cloister, and the lodgings, a huge kitchen and the refectory for the monks, there was also a guesthouse, an infirmary and accompanying physic garden (and there’s still a small herb garden to give you an idea of what the monks used for their herbal remedies) and, of course, a reredorter (I love this fancy word for the toilet block), as well as a water mill and brewhouse, granary and bakery, forge and stables.

Though it is certainly difficult to imagine the grandeur, archaeological evidence shows that the church walls were decorated with frescoes, the floors were clad with fine glazed tiles, and the ceiling soared to grand heights under enormous curved stone arches.

Also on the site is a monument, unveiled on the occasion of the 700th anniversary, to commemorate the Battle of Lewes, fought on 14 May 1264. The English barons, led by Simon de Montfort, were fed up with the extravagance and bad governance of King Henry III, and fought to have England ruled by a council rather than the king – very forward-thinking of them! The barons won the battle and forced the king to sign the Mise of Lewes, a treaty restricting his authority, but, as history shows, royal power was later restored.

Designed by Enzo Plazzotta and perfectly sited to view the Lewes Castle tower through the facial slits, the helmet sculpture is a very impressive and very appropriate artwork, and there is something rather haunting about its empty shell. When engineers were building a new railway line through Lewes in 1845 (sadly, right through the northern part of the site!), they uncovered the burials of hundreds who died in the Battle of Lewes, so it’s fitting that those early pioneers of democracy be remembered here for their courage.

There is a mound near the entrance to the park, which, when climbed, provides wonderful views over the Priory ruins, some of Lewes township and across the surrounding countryside. Though we didn’t have time to explore on this occasion, Lewes itself looked old and interesting so that’s on my list for a future visit to East Sussex.

Wisconsin: Downtown De Pere

During my recent short visit to Wisconsin I was staying with friends in De Pere, officially a suburb of Green Bay but a town with an interesting history and rich heritage. Native Americans had long been settled on this idyllic spot. by a series of shallow rapids on the Fox River, when the first European, Jean Nicolet, sailed his canoe here from Montreal in 1634, though modern De Pere didn't really begin to develop until around 1829, when one William Dickinson, anticipating the power potential of the river water, developed the De Pere Manufacturing Coy. That water is still being utilised today, by the huge paper mill that sits on the western river bank in the centre of town.

I was particularly fascinated by the nineteenth-century commercial buildings in downtown De Pere, in the streets surrounding Broadway on the eastern side of the river, and my friend Trudey and I spent a few hours one very hot July afternoon on a photowalk around this area.

According to the De Pere community website  

The South Broadway Historic District contains the most intact concentration of nineteenth century commercial buildings on the east side of the river. By 1882, small, mostly wooden commercial buildings lined the 100 and 200 blocks of N. and S. Broadway. On the night of April 23, a devastating fire destroyed all of the buildings on both sides of the 100 and 200 blocks of S. Broadway. Work on their replacements began almost as soon as the ashes were cold and by the end of the year, five of the District's six contributing buildings were ready for their first occupants. These consist of one and two-story cream brick-clad buildings that all face west onto the 100 block of South Broadway.

The unusual circumstances surrounding their construction can still be discerned by the way the facade of one building blends seamlessly with the one adjacent to it. Normally, buildings like these display clear dividing lines that show where one building ends and the other begins, but in this case, since almost all of these buildings were under construction at the same time and their builders were all using the same cream brick to build them, the results were buildings whose main facades have no visible edges.

As many buildings have subsequently been painted, this seamlessness is not as apparent as perhaps it once was, though you can see from the above images how well some of the buildings fit together.

Notice how wonky this building is - no straight lines here!

It’s the brickwork, in particular, that I admired. The patterns created by those inventive bricklayers are intricate and praiseworthy.

The Julius Krause Store Building (left) is one that was built after the 1882 fire destroyed the previous building on the site. Krause once operated a shoe store in the building but it now the superbly maintained premises of a local photographer.

Not all the buildings date from 1882. The C.A. Lawton building (below) dates from 1880. This firm of ‘Engineers & Patternmakers. Founders and Machinists’ has been ‘casting solutions since 1879’. 

Fortunately, the building was rescued from demolition in the 1990s and has since been converted into a 70-unit complex of apartments, lofts and townhouses. 

According to their website, ‘the original foundry building and subsequent additions follow the Astylistic Utilitarian industrial design of the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries.’ It certainly looks like a nice place to live.

The J. Steckart & J. Falck double block (above) was constructed by Joseph LeClair in 1888, in the more elaborate High Victorian Italianate style, using both cream- and orange-coloured bricks to create the polychromatic appearance. Apparently, ‘Each of the two halves of the building originally contained two stores in the first story and five apartments in the second. John Steckart operated a meat market in one of the stores in his half, while Jacob Falck operated a saloon and liquor store in one of the stores in his half.’

The Robert McGeehan building (above) was also built in 1888 and shows the same two-colour brick decorating style in the façade as the Steckart and Falck block. It was particularly interesting looking at the side view of this building, where a careful inspection revealed the changes to the structure over the years, with various additions, alterations and repairs, and windows filled in. An architectural historian would have a field day examining a building like this.

The 1903 John Baeten Store harks back to the one-colour brick buildings built twenty years previously but has a lovely decorative garland frieze running along the top. I also liked the inset porch with its three entrance doors.

The other aspect of these buildings that fascinated Trudey and I was the ‘ghost signage’: the often faint traces of the advertisements for businesses that had previously operated within. But that’s a subject for another day, another blog. I’ve just added a couple of photos here (above and below) to show you what I mean.