Jane Maria Clousen The Carroll Confession ?

New Zealand Evening Post, 20 March 1888

Jane Maria Clousen



On 25th April 1871 a policeman discovered a young woman named Jane Maria Clousen on her hands and kness on Kidbrooke Lane in Eltham. She had been beaten by a hammer and died of her injuries five days later in Guy’s Hospital. She was only seventeen years of age. The murder of Jane Clousen (The Eltham Murder) remains unsolved and it has been claimed that Kidbrooke Lane is haunted by an apparition attributed to her and also ghostly screams. Jane Maria Clousen was born No 44 New King Street, Deptford, 27th April 1854. Her father was James Clousen and mother Jane Clousen. Janes older sister, Sarah, died of consumption in 1863 when Jane was nine years old. Her mother died four years later. A year after her mother’s death, aged fourteen, Jane entered service as a maid in the household of the proprietor of a Greenwich based printing company, Ebenezer Whitcher Pook and his wife Mary. Jane was described as being ‘rather a good-looking girl—not dirty, a very clean, respectable young woman, hard-working and industrious. Whilst working at in the Pook hosehold on London Street, Greenwich, it is said Jane had a relationship with Ebenezer’s son, Edmund Walter Pook (born Walworth 1851 – died 1820) who was three years older than her. On 13th April 1871 Jane was dismissed from service. The Pook’s claimed that her work was slovenly, her appearance unkempt and her attitude was lazy and unpleasant. However it was suggested that she was dismissed because of her relationship with Edmund and fear that he will end up marrying below his station.

Jane moved to 12, Ashburnham Road, Greenwich. It was suggested by the Police that she continued to correspond with Edmund and met him secretley. After telling Edmund that she was pregnant he agreed to meet her in the Blackheath area and they would run away together. There was however no evidence spporting claims that Jane and Edmund ever wrote to each other or that they met after her dismissal. In fact during the testimony of Inspector John Mulvany of Scotland Yard they recounted an interview with Pook where he denied seeing her after her dismissal. Denied writing to her and described her as a ‘dirty young woman’.

As previously mentioned, on 25th April 1871 a policeman named Donald Gunn discovered Jane on a path near Kidbrooke Lane: “I went on the foot-path beside the lane—when I returned I came back in the lane, and I then found a young woman on her hands and knees, on the side of the lane next Eltham—the lane runs from Eltham towards Morden College……when I got up to the woman, she was……moaning very faintly, "Oh, my poor head, my poor head!"—I asked her what was the matter with her, and she made no answer—I noticed that her right cheek was covered with blood—I put my hand on her left shoulder and gave her a slight shake, and asked her what was the matter, and how she came by the injuries—she raised her left hand, and said "Take hold of my hand," at the same time turning her head a little to the left, which enabled me to see her face, and I noticed a cut on her left cheek and a lump of blood on her forehead, which appeared to me to be her brain protruding; I should say it was just in the centre of the forehead—when I saw such a fearful sight, I hesitated a moment to give her my hand; and as I stretched forth my hand she fell flat on her face, and said "Let me die!"—she never spoke after that—when I could not get her to answer any questions I turned round, and found there was blood just exactly behind where I was standing—I should say it would cover nearly a foot square, it was a large clot of blood, clear blood; there were spots of blood about a foot square, but there was one large clot, a lump of blood as it were in the middle of it—I saw some footmarks about, a good many, close by where the blood was—the ground was very soft and sloppy—her gloves were lying within 2 feet of her, one in the other, and her hat within 2 feet of her gloves—I looked about, but could not see anyone, and I ran down to Well Hall Farm, knowing that the ostler would be in the stables at that time, and I sent for a stretcher—as I went down to Well Hall, one of the men told me that Sergeant Haynes was outside—I told him what I had found in the lane—he went up to where the woman was lying, and I went to Eltham after a stretcher—she was then taken on the stretcher to Dr. King's surgery, and then to Guy's Hospital—when I found her, her head was lying close by the hedge, towards Eltham; her head was bobbing up and down from the ground”. [Testimony of Donald Gunn - Old Bailey Proceedings Online (www.oldbaileyonline.org), 10th July 1871, trial of Edmund Walter Pook (f18710710-561).]

Her injuries were better described by Michael Harris the house-surgeon at Guy's Hospital: ” —about 7 o'clock on the morning of the 26th, the deceased was brought there—she came at once under my examination—I have my notes of it—she was quite unconscious, and very cold—the injuries were very severe which she had received, and were chiefly confined to the anterior half of the head; they were all of an incised character, clean cuts—there was one slight abrasion on the left cheek; with that exception they were incised—there were altogether about a dozen wounds on the face and head—there was one over the left ear—there was a wound down to the left temporal bone, and it was smashed in; the bone itself was fractured and depressed—on the bone being raised, the brain was discovered to be lacerated—the injury was external and internal—there were two other wounds which were more severe than the others on the face—one above the right eye, about 3 inches in length; the bone was completely smashed up, so much so that several fragments were lying quite loose, and the brain was protruding; that was a cut—the other was a transverse wound on the upper lip, which extended down to the upper jaw bone, which was broken, and a piece was removed; that was also a cut—those were the most severe of the injuries—there were altogether twelve or fourteen, the others were less serious, but they were quite separate, distinct wounds—there were several cuts on the arms and hands, at the back of the hands; they also appeared to have been produced by a sharp, cutting instrument—they were such wounds as might have been produced in a struggle, if she had been defending herself against violence—there were two cuts on her arms, just as they would be if she had put up her arms in front to defend herself; those were clean cuts, they were quite superficial, not deep—there was one very slight bruise on the right thigh—I think those were all the injuries I observed—the bruise on the thigh was recent, I should say a few hours—she remained under my care at Guy's till she died, on the 30th, about 9 o'clock in the evening—she died from the direct effect of the wounds.” [Testimony of Michael Harris - Old Bailey Proceedings Online (www.oldbaileyonline.org), 10th July 1871, trial of Edmund Walter Pook (f18710710-561).]

Jane was indeed pregnant and had been for about 2 months. However, the baby was dead and already decomposing. It was considered that the baby had been dead about two weeks, which would put its death at about the time she was dismissed from the Pook household.

A stain was found on the right wristband of the shirt Edmund Pook wore on the evening of the murder and he had a scratch on his left arm. He told the police he had seen Jane that evening in the company of another man, and remembered telling his brother when he got in, who confirmed the statement.

The murder weapon, a plaster’s hammer was discovered in the grounds of the nearby Morden College by the gardener, Thomas Brown. It had blood marks on the handle but looked like I had been wiped clean. It had been bought at the tool shop of Mr Thomas at 186, High Street, Deptford and Plook was identified as the customer who bought it. (This was later proved to be a case of misidentification and it had been bought by someone else.)

Edmund Pook was arrested and tried for the murder of Jane Maria Clousen. The police at the time considered the evidence pointed toward Pook being responsible. Pook was found guilty in the Coroners Court (where he was represented by Henry Pook – no relation) and the case then went to The Old Bailey on 10th July 1871 where the trial received vast media coverage and Pook was found innocent and acquitted as there was a lack of credible evidence.

In an article entitled the The Eltham Murder Trial, The Sydney Morning Herald had the following to say on Thursday 19 October 1871 – “The spirit and manner of the police in their attempts to trace the death of Jane Maria Clousen to Edmund Walter Pook, as disclosed in Court, and commented upon by the Lord Chief Justice and by the counsel on both sides, show that there is no man's life that may not be jeopardised at some time or other in its ordinary progress by this feature of admistering criminal law. Now we disclaim, in limine, any suspicion of the police as a body. We willingly credit them with fair, honest, and laudable motives, taking for granted that in so large a number of men there will be an average proportion of individual exceptions. But it by no means follows that because in the exercise of their constabulary functions they come up to a high standard of merit they are qualified to 'assume the direction of prosecutions for criminal offences. Indeed, when the subject comes to be thought upon, the presumption will be found to lie the other way. Bodies of men organised and disciplined as are the police, are actuated strongly by an esprit de corps. They emulate each other in the discharge of their official duties, and are jealous of the reputation of their comrades. They are not, however, men of refined culture. They are not conversant with human nature at its best. Their imagination has to manipulate coarse and foul materials; and their prejudices render them extremely' sceptical of innocence whenever a public charge has been made. All this, which may very well suit the performance of their proper work as constables, unfits them to guide with discrimination the conduct of a prosecution which should be as judicial in its character as the trial to which it leads. We do not say that in the case of the accused Walter Pook there was on the part of the police, regarded as prosecutors, any deliberate and wilful attempt to mislead the Court and the jury - any conscious effort to tamper with the evidence which they had collected, or which had been brought before them. But their bias was most perceptibly in aid of the supposed clue hastily seized hold of by them in the first instance. By its consistency or inconsistency with the theory they had formed of Pook's guilt they judged of the worth or worthlessness of facts as evidence and gave them prominence or thrust them aside accordingly. Having apprehended their man, they naturally looked about for further evidence in support of their conjecture that he was the criminal; and if they felt a stronger desire than other men would have done to bring out a result in harmony with their first proceedings, the ill-chosen position, rather than the dishonest character, of the men must bear the chief blame. It is an infirmity of nobler minds than theirs to be less anxious to find themselves on the side of truth than to find the truth on their side.”

Some however saw the trial as a farce and thought he had escaped justice through his family’s connections. Pook even had to take out a civil case against slander which he won when a pamphlet saying he murdered Jane was printed and distributed. However, such was the media storm and public outrage surrounding the case, Edmund and his family fled London.Jane Maria Clousen was buried at the Brockley and Ladywell Cemetery and was carried there on a horse drawn carriage with female pall bearers dressed as maids. It is worth noting that a labourer named Michael Carroll some time later confessed to the murder whilst he was in Australia. The Sydney Police offered to detain him but Scotland Yard Authorities did not consider this man to be Clousen's murderer.

Ghost? Is there evidence of the ghost? I am not sure and have not read any actual witness accounts. It could just be nothing more than the typical ghost story we often find attached to old famous murders.

My thanks to Ian at mysteriousbritian.com for allowing me to post this story.



Anyone for Cocoa

What is a Carman?

The Worshipful Company of Carman website with some historical information Link at http://www.thecarmen.co.uk A description of the work of carmen is found at Link to http://www.gander-exeter.freeserve.co.uk/gander/carmen.html The term "carman" is also used on railroads in USA and Nova Scotia and as a streetcar driver in UK. Usually it meant the driver of a covered cart. In colonial America carmen were regulated and had responsibilities for maintaining the streets. In the Dutch-Colonies mailing list Peter Christoph quotes from the Donogan Papers as follows: "The regulations in Albany in the 1680s appear in The Dongan Papers, 1683-1688, Part 1, pages 46-47 (where they are called Carmen). There were to be five and no more, appointed by the mayor and aldermen. They were to repair the streets when required by the mayor without compensation, cart the "dirt" (a euphemism) from all the streets to some convenient place. They were to be paid no more than three pence for hauling a load of goods except that for pantiles and bricks they were to be paid six pence, since they required special handling. The loads should be "reasonable for a horse to draw." The carmen are to unload and transport corn and wheat "with all possible speed." They are to make satisfaction for any goods they damage, and to behave civilly to all persons. No Negro or other slave shall drive a cart under penalty of twenty shillings to be paid by the owner of the slave (brewers' drays and beer carriages the only exceptions)." For all who have searched the surname Carman and found the occupation instead, this is a description of the English use of 'carman' as an occupation. The term was also used in 17c New York where carmen had specified responsibilities for maintaining roads. A carman was a delivery driver usually working for an employer. Could possibly be self-employed doing general haulage with his own horse and covered cart or wagon but these were mostly called 'carriers'. The Worshipful Company of Carmen was formed in 1516, to have the monopoly of plying for hire as carriers in the City. The Company would licence the vehicles, arrange where vehicles could stand awaiting custom and decide the rates to be charged. The livery colours are white and red, and a history of the Company (The Worshipful Company of Carmen by Eric Bennett, 1952) Records surviving at the Guildhall Library run from the 1660s to the late 20th century - the Court Minutes are the longest run, and some of the other records only cover very limited periods - lists of Freemen are only available up to the 18th Century, for example. In later time, a person may describe himself as a Carman, when he means that this is his trade, but if he is an employee within a large firm is most likely not to be a member of the Livery Company. The use of Carman (Master), or Master Carman probably indicates that the person is the proprietor of a firm of carriers, who may, therefore, (but not necessarily) be a member of the Livery Company.

Victualling Yard Entrance at Deptford

 1901

1888

1840?

Miss Kitty Colyer.

Miss Kitty Colyer played Cinderella at the Broadway Theatre Deptford in December 1920. A music hall singer and comedian of the 1920's Miss Kitty Colyer, was a well-known comedienne and dancer, and started her professional career at eleven years old She continued singing and dancing until she was eighteen, and then married. She left the stage for a few years. But an idle life did not suit her, and she said that during her absence from the stage she suffered from melancholia. She undertook all kinds of dancing, but gave special attention to acrobatic, toe, buck, and national dancing. Some of her most successful numbers were ''Good-bye, Jenny,'' ''My little snow house,'' ''Popping around,'' and ''Oh, Dolly.''

A Tragic News Story from Deptford.

The fatal fire at Deptford was as sad in its consequences as the calamitous conflagration at Bethnal Green. We give a photograph of the fireplace of the room at 35, St Johns Road, Deptford, taken soon after the melancholy disaster on the 5^th inst. At the inquest on the bodies of Thomas Aberthell aged 4 years; Amy, 3 years; Lily, 18 months, and Rose, aged four months, the four children who were asphyxiated in the fire, Lillian Aberthell, the mother, deposed that she left them sitting in the kitchen while she went to fetch some fish for her husband’s tea. When she had been away for about a quarter of an hour she returned, and was horrified to find the kitchen in flames. There were several people there, but apparently no one had made an attempt to save the children. She at once rushed in and succeeded in bringing out the two youngest but they were apparently dead. The Coroner commented on the carelessness of the parents having matches about in the way of the children as children were not able to appreciate the danger of fire, and would get matches whenever they had a chance. The Jury returned a verdict of accidental death.

Dog Attack at the Royal Oak Public House

A Deptford Suicide!

The Gun Tavern

 

Deptford was also apparently the residence of the Earl of Nottingham, instrumental in helping destroy the Spanish Armada - he was supposed to have resided in the Gun Tavern. At the north end of Deptford Green, the Skinners Place property was leased to Lord Howard of Effingham, Admiral of England, in the late sixteenth century, and this appears to be the origin of the Lord High Admiral's official residence on the Green in the seventeenth century. It had two wharves with yards, several gardens enclosed with a brick wall, a barn and a stable, and a number, of houses held by sub-tenants. The main house was rebuilt shortly before 1568. This building later became the Gun Tavern and in 1807 it was converted into dwellings and warehouses owned by Messrs Gordon, Biddulph and Stanley, anchor-smiths. The property later passed to the General Steam Navigation Company.

THE LOST VILLAGE CENTER OF DEPTFORD

THE LOST VILLAGE CENTER OF DEPTFORD

Historical Deptford was divided into Upper Deptford (based around Deptford Broadway) and Lower Deptford based around St Nicholas' Church, Deptford Green (formerly Common land?) and Deptford Strand as seen on the 1623 map. Deptford was primarily a fishing village before King Henry VIII founded the Dockyard in 1513.

Church Street acted as a buffer between Lower Deptford and Upper Deptford, and was lined fairly well with properties when Butt Lane (later the High Street) was all but a bare trackway. The Green/Depford Green/Common (not to be confused with the area around St Johns also referred to as Deptford Common) had several alleys leading eastwards to Barnard's Dockyard (later used by the General Steam Navigation Company for ship repair).

Butcher Row (now Borthwick Street) led to Lower Watergate, Middle Watergate (known as Great Thames Street), and Upper Watergate. Straddling Lower and Middle Watergate was Little Thames Street AKA Lower Road. The circulation of these four streets appear to have formed the village nucleus. Unfortunately, just prior to the survey of the 1844 tithe map, most of these streets and buildings were suddenly swept away before they even had a chance to be recorded photographically. What happened was: in 1836 the Deptford Pier and Improvement Company proposed to have a railway connection from the nearly completed line to Greenwich as well as a scheme to develop the river front for passenger and commercial purposes. In the following year the Pier company had already begun purchasing premises in Thames Street, Deptford Green and Butcher Row. By 1841 they seemed to own all the area between Butcher Row and the Thames. In 1843, a legal case was lodged against the company, and the Deptford Pier junction was abandoned. The pier company were replaced by Timothy Tyrrell as owner of the Pier land, occupying a wharf and warehouse, and leasing out many other properties. Unless there's a mistake on the Tithe map it would seem almost all buildings north of Butcher Row were demolished in 1843/44. Certainly they were gone by the 1860s.

Coming from the direction of the Deptford manor house known as Sayes Court (formerly a castle?), Dog Street (known later as New Row then Dock Street/Prince Street) and the top end of Watergate Street (formerly known as Old King Street) also had properties. At the junction between them stood a gateway in Watergate Street, hence the name, which was captioned on the 1833 Cruchley map. The gate can be glimpsed to the extreme right in a photograph taken of the street.

In-between Watergate Street and Deptford Green was an empty field except for maybe the church burial ground until several north-south streets--laid sometime between the late 17th and early 18th centuries--filled the gap. The burial ground, if it even existed before, was maintained as a strip of land parallel to the new streets; from west to east they were named Rope Walk, New Street (extended before 1755), Frenches Field leading to Rumbolols Rope Walk (known as Black Field near the burial ground), and Hughes Field.

 To give you an idea of the many buildings lost in the former center of Lower Deptford during the early part of the Victorian era, here is a directory of trades and industries (not including the many wharves) taken from the 1834 Pigot directory unless otherwise stated; I think its safe to say that the taverns and public houses, here in the heart of historical Deptford closest to the Thames, would have been frequented more by the many sailors, mariners and seamen than in any other part of the village:

Deptford Green

The George (before 1804)

Earl of Romney (John Dickenson 1839)

White Hart (John Hawkins 1839)

Plume of Feathers (Jo Topliffe Knnipple 1839)

Lion & Lamb (John Grix)

School/Academy (Adams, John Williams)

Baker (Lancaster, Joseph)

Engineer (Gordons and Co. and shipsmiths & ironfounders)

Marine Stores-Dealer (Johnson, John)

Plumbers/Painter/Glazier (Harrison and Son)

Shipbuilder (Barnard, Francis and Son)

Lower Watergate

Sir John Falstaff Public House (John Beswell)

Coal Merchant (Wells, Hesketh Davis)

Junk Merchant (Wells, Hesketh Davis)

Timber Merchant (W H Davis)

Butcher Row

Gun Tavern (possibly Henry Mears 1804)

Blue Bell (William Collier 1834, Christopher William Collier 1839)

Ship Chester (James West)

Three Tuns (William Shirley 1834, Elizabeth Shirley 1839)

Carpenter (Deane, Anthony F)

Marine Stores-Dealer (Townsend, John)

Shopkeeper/Groceries and Sundries Dealer (Fowles, John)

Thames Street (Little and Great?)

Earl of Romney (John Dickenson 1834)

Marquis of Granby (Ann H, J Bear 1834 Rate)

Royal Ann (no occupier 1834)

Star & Garter (William Francis 1834, William Francis 1839)

Chemist Manufacturing (Leesom, Henry Beaumont)

Coal Merchant (Mussett, Robert and Co.)

Junk Merchant (Mussett, James & Robert)

Marine Stores-Dealer (Godwin, John)

Marine Stores-Dealer (Morris, William)

Steam Miller (Powell, Francis)

Shopkeeper/Groceries and Sundries Dealer (Beiderbeck, Betsey)

Shopkeeper/Groceries and Sundries Dealer (Doyle, Peter)

Smith (Hughesdon, William)

Ship Chandler (Thomas G)

King Street (Upper Watergate?)

Fox (Thomas Hunt 1834, Joseph Hunt 1839)

Brazier/Tin-Plate Worker (Seager, Thomas)

Bricklayer (Smith, James)

Grocers/Tea Dealer (Bensted, Elizabeth)

Snack? Proprieter (M., John)

Old King Street

Red Lion Inn (Samuel Edwards 1834, Samuel Edwards 1839)

Bull and Butcher (William ? 1834, William Williams 1839)

Fishing Smack (Jason Moreland 1834, Tim Riordan 1839)

Freemasons' Arms (James William ? 1834, William Batch 1839)

Red Cow (John Fester 1834, Kenneth Philpott 1839)

Rose & Crown (Samuel M)

School/Academy (Kemp, William)

Baker (Bradbrook, Harriet)

Brazier/Tin-Plate Worker (Matthews, Richard)

Butcher (Scott, William)

Butcher (S*lmes, Jeremiah)

Cooper (Jacob Powling)

Furniture Broker (Scruton, John)

Grocers/Tea Dealer (Prudence, Thomas)

Hat Manufacturer/Hatter (Hyman, William)

Lighterman (Riddall, William)

Plumbers/Painter/Glazier (Berry, Arthur)

Mathmematics Teacher (Stoole, Jason)

Shopkeeper/Groceries and Sundries Dealer (Anderson, William)

Shopkeeper/Groceries and Sundries Dealer (Slone, Thomas David)

Shopkeeper/Groceries and Sundries Dealer (Waikman, Mary)

Slopseller (Barnard, Esther)

Slopseller (Chapman, Edmund)

Slopseller (Gibeon, Robert)

Timber Dealer (Poole, James)

Tobacco Pipe Maker (Gosling, William)

________________________________________________

SOURCES

1623 Deptford map

18th Century Deptford Strand map "Controller Bridge House Plan 57A"

1745 Rocque map

1755 Milne map

1833 Cruchley map

1834 Pigot directory

1839 Pigot directory

1844 Tithe map

1868 Os map

White, Ken (1997). The Deptford Pier and Riverside.

http://www.bl.uk/onlinegallery/onlineex/deptford/m/008add00078629au00000002.html

http://shipwrightspalace.blogspot.co.uk/2010/03/john-penn-marine-engineers-deptford-and.html

http://www.olddeptfordhistory.com/2012/02/west-side-of-watergate-street-deptford.html

Other rate books (at Lewisham Local Studies) and directories may shed further light on the above:

1784 Bailey

1793-1798 Universal British Directory

1799 Holden

1801 Holden (supplement to 1799 or 1800 reprint)

1802 Holden

1803 Finch (Kent; main towns only)

1803 Holden

1804 Holden (supplement to 1803)

1805 Holden

1805 Holden (supplement to previous edition)

1808 Finch (Kent; main towns only)

1808 Holden

1809 Holden

1810 Holden

1811 Holden

1812 Holden

1813 Holden

1814-1815 Holden

1816 Underhill / Holden (London and 480 towns) at Guildhall Library

1817 Underhill / Holden

1822 Pigot London and Provincial

1822 Underhill / Holden

1823 Pigot London and Provincial (revised in 1824 and then in 1825)

1826 Pigot London and Provincial (re-printed in 1827 and then in 1828)

1827 Pigot Metropolitan (re-printed in 1828)

1830 Clayton

1832 Pigot London and Provincial (revised twice in 1833 for 1834)

1836 Pigot London Alphabetical… (revised with a supplement in 1837 and 1838)

1838 Robson Home Counties (19th edition in strong room at Guildhall Library)

1839/1840 Pigot

1845 Post Office Home Counties (Essex, Herts, Kent, Middlesex, Surrey, Sussex)

1846 Kelly (Kent) at Bexley Library

184 Post Office London and Nine Counties at British Library

1847 Bagshaw

1847 Post Office Hampshire with Essex, Herts, Kent, Middlesex, Surrey, Sussex

1850 Williams (Kent and Surrey; main towns only)

1851 Mason (Greenwich and Blackheath)

1851 Post Office Home Counties (Essex, Herts, Kent, Middlesex, Surrey, Sussex)

1852 Archdeacon (Greenwich, Woolwich incl. Deptford, Blackheath, Lewisham…)

1852 Bass (Deptford incl. Blackheath, Lee, Lewisham and Sydenham)

1855 Post Office Home Counties (Essex, Herts, Kent, Middlesex, Surrey, Sussex)

1857/1858 Meville (Kent)

1859 Post Office (Kent)

1859 Post Office Home Counties (Essex, Herts, Kent, Middlesex, Surrey, Sussex)

1860 Post Office London Suburban

1862 Post Office Home Counties (Essex, Herts, Kent, Middlesex, Surrey, Sussex)

1863 Post Office London Suburban

A great piece of research by Giles Gaffney. Hopefully more to come

Thanks

Andy

Wellington Street/Flaggon Row 1886

This old photo shows Wellington Street looking west to Deptford High Street. It was demolished in 1896 to make way for Creek Road to join Evelyn Street.

Wellington Street looking east from the north end of Deptford High Street.

Extract from Booth's diary describing Wellington Street and the surrounding areas.

Albury Street 1970,s

South side of Albury Street after demolition of the group of original houses which stood there.I can remember them from the early to late 1950,s. I don't know what the sheds behind the hoarding were but at one time they were storage for Pickford's removals. I have also seen on a map that there was a vestry building for St Paul's??

Watergate Street looking North 1920's

New King Street 1929

This photo shows a north view from Evelyn Street junction with New King Street. In the distance right hand side you can see a gateway. Is this the Victualing Yard entrance?

Bronze Street 1930's

The London Magazine 1763.

Saturday 12th 1763.

The Blue Anchor a public house near the king's yard Deptford known by the name of the Red house fell entirely to the ground; there were several lodgers in it two of whom were unfortunately killed; divers were dug out of the ruins much bruised and three children who happily received no hurt

Watergate Street 1920's? but viewed from what end?

This is a great old photo. The more you look the more you see. Look at the young lad in the fore ground.... to the left, wondering what the rest of the locals are looking at. There's a street name on the left hand side...... any guesses??

Update 26th Feb. 2012.

This extract from Booths notes of London shows Rowley Street was somewhere close to Barnes Alley and I presume Queen Street.


Extract courtesy of London School of Economics and Political Science.

Carrington House, Deptford 1902



I always remember Carrington House and the doss house that use to be there. My mum use to hate walking past it. This photo taken back in 1902 shows the place before Carrington House was built in 1903 .....advertising beds...then! Middle far right you can see Deptford Broadwayin the distance. Seems like this photo was taken in the winter months. Can anyone else remember the doss house?

As it looked in the 1960'-70's

As it is now Mereton Masions.

 Update 25th Feb 2012.

I found these old photos of the interior of Carrington House taken when the building was finished in 1903.  Looks pretty state of the art accommodation.

Ghosts In Deptford 

by Cicely Fox Smith

If ghosts should walk in Deptford, as very well they may,
A man might find the night there more stirring than the day,
Might meet a Russian Tsar there, or see in Spain's despite
Queen Bess ride down to Deptford to dub Sir Francis knight.

And loitering here and yonder, and jostling to and fro,
In every street and alley the sailor-folk would go,
All colours, creeds, and nations, in fashion old and new,
If ghosts should walk in Deptford, as like enough they do.

And there'd be some with pigtails, and some with buckled shoes,
And smocks and caps like pirates that sailors once did use,
And high sea-boots and oilskins and tarry dungaree,
And shoddy suits men sold them when they came fresh from sea.

And there'd be stout old skippers and mates of mighty hand,
And Chinks and swarthy Dagoes, and Yankees lean and tanned,
And many a hairy shellback burned black from Southern skies,
And brassbound young apprentice with boyhood's eager eyes,

And by the river reaches all silver to the moon
You'd hear the shipwrights' hammers beat out a phantom tune,
The caulkers' ghostly mallets rub-dub their faint tattoo —
If ghosts should walk in Deptford, as very like they do.

If ghosts should walk in Deptford, and ships return once more
To every well-known mooring and old familiar shore,
A sight it were to see there, of all fine sights there be,
The shadowy ships of Deptford come crowding in from sea.

Cog, carrack, buss and dromond — pink, pinnace, snake and snow —
Queer rigs of antique fashion that vanished long ago,
With tall and towering fo'c'sles and curving carven prows,
And gilded great poop lanterns, and scrolled and swelling bows.

The Baltic barque that foundered in last month’s North Sea gales,
And last year's lost Cape Horner on her sails,
Black tramp and stately liner should lie there side by side
Ay, all should berth together upon that silent tide.

In dock and pond and basin so close the keels should lie
Their hulls should hide the water, their masts make dark the sky,
And through their tangled rigging the netted stars should gleam
Like gold and silver fishes from some celestial stream.

And all their quivering royals and all their singing spars
Should send a ghostly music a-shivering to the stars —
A sound like Norway forests when wintry winds are high,
Or old dead seamen's shanties from great old days gone by, —

Till eastward over Limehouse, on river, dock and slum,
All shot with pearl and crimson the London dawn should come,
And fast at flash of sunrise, and swift at break of day,
The shadowy ships of Deptford should melt like mist away.

Cicely Fox Smith (1 February 1882—8 April 1954) was an English poet and writer. Born in Lymm, Cheshire and educated at Manchester High School for Girls she briefly lived in Canada, before returning to the United Kingdom shortly before the outbreak of World War 1. She settled in Hampshire and began writing poetry, often with a nautical theme. Smith wrote over 600 poems in her life, for a wide range of publications. In later life, she expanded her writing to a number of subjects, fiction and non-fiction. For her services to literature, the British Government awarded her a small pension. (Courtesy of Wikepedia)

Inquest held at the Kings Head Pub Church Street.

West side of Watergate Street, Deptford 1903

I think the pub at right center is the Bull & Butcher, 97 Watergate Street, Deptford ?

No. 17 Watergate Street, Deptford.

I found this old photo of No. 17 Watergate Street. Taking a closer look at the door bracket carvings, scroll work and cherubs, one cant help but notice the similarity to the surviving original door brackets in Albury Street.

History of Albury Street. Final Part.

History of Albury Street. Part 8

No. 37.

Old buildings in the neighbourhood with a romantic past such as Deptford’s are invariably associated with well known historical figures. It is reputed that Admiral Benbow lived at No. 20 Union Street, north side (Now number 37) and that Lord Nelson and Lady Hamilton spent some time at No. 19 (now number 34) the house built by Reyalls and Pearce.



No. 34.



It is unlikely that Admiral John Benbow who died in 1702 ever lived in Union Street. He leased Sayes Court in 1696 for 3 years from John Evelyn, but does not appear to have been there much. His son, John Benbow the Traveller, who died in Deptford in 1708 and in great poverty, might possibly have lived in Union Street. No evidence has been seen to prove or disprove that Lord Nelson stayed there. It is of greater significance that from the first, Union Street was inhabited by men connected with the Royal Navel Dockyard. Lucas’s will mentions houses occupied or in the possession of five sea captains and three shipwrights. Union Street must have been with these people, the most affluent in the parish, in mind. As the mortgage made with John Loving, the block maker, suggests, it was these people who provided some of the capital needed by Lucas. The rate books which go back to 1730 on the south side, and to 1750 on the north side of the street, show that this link with the dockyard was maintained until it closed in 1869. By the middle of the nineteenth century, there are signs that the occupants of some of the houses were of a lower social order. For instances No. 24 Union Street on the north side in 1851, was in multiple occupation, the heads of the three families being a labourer and two sawyers. But even then fourteen occupiers of thirty-two houses were craftsmen employed in the Royal Naval Dock Yard or were master mariners. Perhaps the most striking thing at that time was the number of private schools or academies flourishing in the street, which seem to have occupied no less than four houses.

Albury St, North side still mostly intact.

The last vacant site in Union Street was filled in 1838 when No.7 on the north side was built. Already, No. 21 on the same side had been pulled down and replaced by a pair of houses first rated in 1829, but by-and-large, Union Street remained intact until the end of the nineteenth century. In the last quarter of the century Lucas’s own house on the south east corner and No.2 on the south side were demolished and replaced by a single building facing the High Street, and the public house (King of Prussia) was rebuilt. In 1882, Union Street was renamed as a part of Creek Road and in 1898, became Albury Street loosing its anomalous numbering. The final re-naming of the street was necessitated by the re-aligning of Creek Road to join, at its west end, Evelyn Street, thereby at last obscuring the field pattern shown in the map of 1623, cutting off the north east corner of James Browne’s land. But even up the time of the Great War, Albury Street remained very much as Lucas left it. But by 1921, the south side had been broken and two large gaps appeared in the terrace in the middle and at the west end.

Since the Second World War these gaps have been made wider and recently they coalesced leaving just four houses of the original twenty-three. The north side has been luckier. A few houses at each end of the terrace on this side have be altered or rebuilt and since demolished, but a sizable number of the houses remain These houses are among the few survivors in the whole of London from the first two decades of the eighteenth century and although the gaps in their ranks are to be regretted, the four houses on the south side of the street and the longer series on the north must be seen as one of the most important treasures architecturally and historically among domestic buildings in London.

My thanks A Quiney for allowing me to reproduce his thesis on Union/Albury Street.

Albury Street looking East. 1950's.

 

Here's a rare photo of Albury Street taken in the 1950's looking at the south side of the street from the direction of Deptford High Street. The square plain looking building just left of center use to be lodgings for the Macmillan nurses. The door way at ground level, just a square opening, use to belong to Pickford's removals. Just out of view on the right hand side was where the King of Prussia Public House use to be. As kids we use to stop and look through the boarding of the houses. Use to frighten the life out of us!