Is this the oldest building on Oxford Street?

At the eastern end of Oxford Street, between Centrepoint and Soho Square, there remains a patchwork terrace that I'm glad to see has not succumbed to the heavy-handed rebuilding that has affected many large blocks to the east. 

At the centre of my photo above, you'll see a skinny dark building at 41 Oxford Street. Is this, I wonder, the oldest building on Oxford Street? Viewed from the top deck of a bus it's possible to get a better look of the bay windows, and the decorative panels between them.

The upper floors are currently empty, as per the buildings either side and much of old Oxford Street, which begs the question, why are the powers that be building big new shiny new things everywhere else?! But that's a subject for another day in a pub.

I have tried to find out more about the history of No.41 made all the more confusing that, until the early 1880s, this street was numbered consecutively along the North side from Tottenham Court Rd to Hyde Park and then back along the South side ending at No.440. Luckily, the 1882 directory makes clear the changing numbers and we see that the property in question used to be No.421 which, in 1882, was listed as George Lloyd's coffee house. Delving a few decades further back to 1841, the occupant was Manuel Ferran, wine merchant.

A couple of years before earlier, John Tallis was busy creating illustrative streetscapes of London, and his depiction of No.421 shows a different building altogether:

Tallis, London Street Views, 1838-40, Peter Jackson, London Topographical Society, first published 1969

I'm guessing that the Georgian properties were replaced during Oxford Street's metamorphosis into a fancy shopping high street and the building we see today is c1860 or thereabouts. What do you think? 

I also notice within the Tallis illustration that No.421 is annotated as Brooks & Son, wholesale stationers, and I am now wondering if this has any connection to Vincent Brooks's lithographic printing company that would later amalgamate with Day & Sons, a mega-company that I talk about on my Covent Garden Ghostsigns guided walk... give me a minute... yep... here was John Brooks, the radical printer, the son being Vincent.

I love it when things cross-reference like that. 

George Carter & Sons of Maida Hill – glovers, hosiers and shirtmakers

A few months ago, within a post about bygone company names that display '& Sons' I included a business by the name of Carter, based in Old Kent Road, with many more shops across London.

Well, this afternoon I had one of those 'ping' moments when I recalled that earlier this year after a wander in the Kensal Green area, I was ambling eastwards along Harrow Road when I stumbled across a shop that still sports some of its original Victorian shop fittings including a beautiful threshold mosaic, here at number 371.

Not only does it have the marvellous mosaic, but it also retains the fine wooden spindle window frames above granite and metal on which the words GLOVERS, HOSIERS & SHIRTMAKERS are still perfectly visible. It's an absolute treat and an amazing example of the Art Nouveau shopping era that also included curved windows, polished brass and aproned staff.  

There is a mirrored wall to the left side as you enter from the street, designed to make the shop look bigger and bounce more light into the the shop (this being north-facing), and there are additional mirrors in the ceiling above this area. This next pair of pics shows the effect looking down and looking up: 

I have my fingers crossed that this old Carter & Sons shop is a listed/protected property. It's unusual, to say the least, especially with so many elements intact at one location. Retrospective Google streetview shows that it was hidden behind boards in the period 2008-2012 before it reappeared as we see it today. I am interested to find out from anyone who lives in the area if they have any info about the shop pre-2008.

I have found other similar examples across London, but mostly on shops that originally sold jewellery or funeral services. And not all of those shops have survived; sadly modernised with plate glass within UPVC frames. 

The description of 'Shirtmaker' can also be found on some outlets in the covered arcades either side of Piccadilly, as well as on the low curved corner of 67 Moorgate in the City of London, here. 

Carters biggest shop was at 211-217 Old Kent Road, but there's nothing left of it today, since demolished and rebuilt, today containing a British Heart Foundation charity shop at street level. 

But here's a nice pic of the shop when it was still trading that I found in a library book but forgot to make a note of the book title (whoops):

Update June 2025: At the excellent Peter Mitchell exhibition at The Photographers' Gallery I found a photo he had taken of the shop in 1979. The caption was also written by him at that time:

On the tiles at George's Fish & Chips shop, 45 Tottenham Lane, N8

At the northern end of Tottenham Lane, on the right and just before the fork where the road meets Church Lane and leads down to the right and Hornsey railway station, there is a fish and chips shop, opposite the old police station buildng. 

The shop doesn't look like much at first glance, being as the exterior is modern plate glass, having lost almost all of its Victorian metalwork and embellishment over the past few decades. You need only to look around at some of the nearby shops to be able to get an idea of how attractive this junction would have been 120 years ago. 

If you venture into George's you'll find some fabulous examples of fin-de-siecle tiles along the lower sections of the walls on both sides, specifically in the small seating area at the left and behind the counter too, albeit mostly obscured by cabinets. But hey, they are there and that's great.

These tiles really show off the colourful patterns of the Art Nouveau 1890s area. The grassy greens, deep golden yellows and peacock blues are absolutely gorgeous. There is also a stained glass panel at the rear which I assume is of the same era, but I doubt it would have been situated exactly in that position when the shop interior was first created. As regards the 'since 1890' claim, I am not sure what is intimated here. The 1901 directory shows this shop as No.9 Rathcoole Parade and the premises of James Brunton, fishmonger. Perhaps George is a descendant of James? Or they simply mean a chippy has been on this site since 1890.

I popped in to check up on the place earlier this month but, though the door was wide open and the place clearly open for business, there was no one about to talk to – I called out 'hello' but got no response and, in a rush to be elsewhere, I simply snapped these pics and sped off. Last time I popped in, ooh about 3 years ago, I'd had a nice chat a man who worked there. He was really proud of the tiles and loved that the history of the place is appreciated by many people who come into admire the original features (and eat the lovely chips!). I didn't ask if his name was George.

Nearby, there are other places that still hang on to their mad patchworks of Victorian glazed tiles. I mean 'mad' in a good way. Personally, I'd never consider putting some of these patterns together except in a catalogue. But the effect is dazzlingly good, such as a few doors along, at 59 Tottenham Lane, on the corner of Harvey Road where there are some lovely vertical panels of mixed tiles that are strangely at odds, yet enhanced and contrasted by, the faded ultramarine paint of Garden Transformations. The 1901 directory tells me this was Lucas & Co, house furnishers. You can also find lovely mixed tile collections surrounding the front doors of many residential properties in the area, as well as some excellent examples of old shop fronts in Hornsey High Street, but I will save those for a separate bulletin.

UPDATE 2023:

Although the premises is still trading in fish and chips, the lovely colourful Art Nouveau tiles by the seating area along the left side wall have been obliterated or removed. The guy I spoke to in there this time (not the same fella as before) said this had been done for Health and Safety reasons. Hmm. Really?!  I dispute that reason being as the tiles behind the counter in the food preparation area are still visible. Sigh.  

Hanging on in there in York Way

Just north of the railway line at 186 York Way, over the road from what used to be Maiden Lane railway station, just one old Victorian building remains squished in amongst the new builds.
How very strange.
And it's sort of ironic that it's home to an estate agent.

This district has seen big changes and lots of redevelopment in the past few decades. It used to be a very smelly area known as Belle Isle – a rather misleading name considering the stinky, noxious, businesses that were – most of the companies here were linked in some way to the nearby Caledonian meat market.
My old directories show me that for at least the period 1895–1915 this particular building was occupied by Harris, Barber & Son, horse slaughters. And to the rear there was 'Pleasant Grove'. There's still Vale Royal just down the hill. Maiden Lane, the earlier name of York Way/Rd, was actually a ref to 'midden' meaning a rubbish heap.

Anaglypta

I have started another collection...
Today I bring you some examples of Anaglypta wallpaper.
It was quite expensive in its Victorian-Edwardian heyday and was mostly applied in hallways and/or below the dado rail.
Beautiful. 

The two black designs are from The Shaftesbury Tavern on Hornsey Rise and the off-white one, top left, is from The Red Lion, Holborn,

North London Polytechnic, Holloway Road – compare and contrast

I was just tidying up my photo archive and rediscovered a folder called Holloway Road Then and Now from when I was taking comparison pics and writing about them here. In that folder I found a group of four pics I had put together of the London Metropolitan University buildings.
Looking at the collection now it's easy to get distracted doing a sort of spot-the-difference.

c1910 vs 2013

The North London Polytechnic was established in 1896, a period I refer to as the Heyday of Holloway.  This Victorian seat of learning was built "to promote the industrial skill, general knowledge, health and well-being of young men and women belonging to the poorer classes of Islington [and] to provide for the inhabitants of Islington and the neighbouring parts of north London, and especially for the Industrial Classes, the means of acquiring a sound General, Scientific, Technical and Commercial Education at small cost".
Only one of the buildings from that period now remains as The Rocket Complex echoing its past as The Great Hall (b1897) opened by the then Lord Mayor of London and used for social and academic events. It's sad to see how a lot of the architectural embellishments have been removed over the years, however, on the plus side, the clocks at the top are usually correct, which is handy.
The various university buildings feature for different reasons on a couple of my walking tours. 

Oh and by the way, the vintage clothing shop, now called Blue 17, by the bus stop (where the AA van is in the pic) is marvellous, one of the best around – do pop in and have a look – though be warned that it's hard to come out empty-handed.

A lost letterbox in Upper Holloway, and some other post box conunundrums

Last month I posted about the reveal of the Brymay ad opposite Upper Holloway Station which happened after the new bridge was finished on Holloway Road and followed a year of upheaval including diversions and tail backs such that the Archway roundabout at the northern end of the road, which was also undergoing reconstruction at the same time, was spookily quiet. And, as it turned out, a perfect time to resurface Holloway Road revealing the old cobbles for about 30mins (I must dig out those pics).
Oops, I digress... back to Upper Holloway station...
The new bridge is now finished. But something is missing...
The cute little Victorian letterbox that used to be by the entrance to the station hasn't been reinstated.

Top row shows 2008 and 2014. Bottom row shows how the wall letter box was recorded at that site in 1909, and bottom right is how the bridge wall looks now.

So where is this wonderful old piece of Victorian metalwork?
Who has it? News please.

Whilst I am on the subject of Victorian letterboxes, I noticed last month that the Penfold acanthus pillar box in St Pancras Way, NW1, has moved to the other side of the road since the last time I took a snap of it which must have been approx 10 years ago. Why is that? But hey, at least it's still there.
This and more oddities in the pics below.

Top right – the Penfold box in St Pancras Way and below it a close up of its VA motif showing that the box used to be painted green.
Middle top – the box in the gate at Chelsea's Royal Hospital – accessible from both sides!
Top right – a wall letterbox, also in Chelsea – the same design as the lost Upper Holloway.
On the bottom row – a VR in London N6 is really thick with paint – compare it to the ones either side it and note also how the one bottom right, (EC4) has a different monogram design.