The names behind the letters on 161-167 Euston Road

I have lost count how many times I have looked at the building at the corner of on Euston Road and Upper Woburn Place, today occupied by Prezzo and Barry's Bootcamp, and wondered what on earth the letter N in the metalwork signifies. It's been on my To Do list for decades, so here goes... 

Here is the view from Eversholt Street with the portico of St Pancras New Church on the left:

Having just searched my archives for some pics of the details, it appears I have never taken a photo of this building, so all the images here are screen shots from Google Streetview. This is probably because I usually question the Ns when I have just gone past on a bus, having missed hundreds of photo opportunities. 

The next image shows the Ns within the fancy the metalwork, painted light grey-green. There is also a scripty B above the door to the restaurant at the corner:

The B is for Barclays Bank – I have seen Barclays Bs on other buildings, such as not far from here at 236-240 Pentonville Road where a second door has a letter T above it denoting Telephones/Telegraph office. They might well have had one of those 'You can telephone from here' signs outside. Barclays and the Post Office often occupied the same spaces. Coincidentally, here in Euston Road there is a huge telephone exchange next door constructed in the early 1930s (one of many exchanges in this area).

The view above, from the church across Upper Woburn Place, shows how impressive this building is. The elegant design continues on all three sides. At the corner of Endsleigh Gardens there is a similar corner door to the Barclays bank entrance but the embellishment contains no letter and has been painted black. A semi-circle of fancy metalwork is still in place:

At street level along Endsleigh Gdns there are elegant columned supports between which would have been, I am sure, display windows, today infilled with smaller windows:

At the western end the access for delivery vehicles is now also mostly blocked.

So, what do the Ns signify? 

Well, it turns out this was a company called Nettlefold & Sons, ironmongers. The company's address is shown as 163 Euston Road, today the entrance to Barry's Bootcamp, although I think Nettlefold's showroom and offices would have been accessed by the rear corner door.

Nettlefolds was founded at 54 High Holborn in 1823. They became famous for the quality of their screws used for boat and bridge building, manufactured in Smethwick. Almost 100 years later, in 1928, they moved to this Euston Road address which, I assume, due to its Beaux Arts style, was already constructed when the Nettlefolds arrived. 

The entrance to No163 later became access to the post office and Euston telegraph exchange next door. The 1939 directory shows that this door was also used by a Scottish life assurance company and Asprey & Co, goldsmiths.

N is for Nettlefolds. 

The strange this is, considering I have a bulging folder of photos of ironmongers' and founders' marks on coal hole plates, railings and bridges, I had never before heard of Nettlefolds until today, nor seen evidence of their work, probably because they made component parts often hidden from view.

More info can be found about Nettlefolds here, courtesy of Graces Guide and here.

Also, see the comments section below for how the company was absorbed into GKN – thanks Anonymous! 

Marvellous Marquetry at The Royal George, Euston

I do love an 1930's pub. By which I mean one of those Tudor Revival or Neo Georgian houses built by the big breweries at that time in an effort to keep up with new innovations in construction, design and facilities, whilst holding onto old comforts, like log fires, polished wood and deep-buttoned leather chairs. 

I often stop at an example of one of these on my Art Deco guided walks, explaining that not everyone was keen on the new fangled Moderne and geometric or streamlined styling, hence the many public houses were rebuilt in a way that would entice new and younger customers yet wouldn't scare off the existing clientele. I have often been heard saying that a customer back then could be quaffing either a pint of stout or a gin cocktail whilst smoking a pipe or a dragging on a cork-tipped Craven-A. 

Well, at the side of Euston Station, this is illustrated in wood within the walls around the fireplaces of The Royal George public house, Grade II listed and for good reason. 

There has been a pub here since 1877, named after the HMS Royal George, a Royal Navy flagship vessel that sank in 1873 with the loss of 1,200 crew. In the late 1930s, Truman Hanbury & Buxton, the then owners (hence the those lovely eagles on the building) rebuilt the pub with its front designed to echo the stern of the boat. 

The boat is depicted in its full glory inside the pub with sails a-billowing within a magnificent large marquetry panel, on the right hand side as you enter, above what would have been an open fireplace. It's hard to get a decent pic in there because the pub seems to constantly be showing sports on multiple TV screens and these are reflected in the wooden panel. However, we shouldn't really complain because in recent memory the marquetry panel was itself was covered by one of those TV screens, so we are lucky it wasn't removed, boarded or overpainted:

But that's not all. On the other side of the pub, in what would have originally been one of the other two bars, separated by walls or panels and accessible by its own street door, there is a non-functional angled fireplace in the far left corner with slim panels of marquetry either side. 

Within these panels, and again, hard to photograph due to the poor lighting conditions in there, hence I am only showing eight of them here, the age of steam and science is contrasted with the age of cocktails:

As you can see, these graphics created from thin slivers of different woods, depict a range of subjects such as the brewing industry, bar games (skittles), science, engineering, transport and travel (luggage on a trolley). 

I think these panels are absolutely marvellous.  It amazes me when I take friends and fans of this sort of thing into The Royal George and other drinkers in there look at us quizzically as if we are the idiots! 

Marquetry is a skilled and time-consuming craft that is dying out today. Find out more here. I have only found a few other examples within other London public buildings, albeit nothing comparable to the illustrative quality shown above. I will endeavour to hunt out some more (any excuse for a pub crawl!) – there surely must be more out there, simply hiding in plain sight – please let me know if you can add to the collection.