Category: Events
Laurie Lee Walk from Slad to Whiteway: June 7th
As we walked out on our Laurie Lee walk,
Discussing moments of peace and war,
In an inter-textual – meta-textual
Wander from Slad to Whiteway,
We tripped through the harmony of landscape
And the poetry of past and present cartography:
No blue line motorways or red and yellow roads;
No pale blue tourist signification;
No black lines of railway tracks,
Cuttings, embankments, viaducts or tunnels;
No red square and circle railway stations;
No bus stations, power lines or pylons;
Instead: footpaths, byways and bridleways,
Past names such as Steanbridge, Redding Wood.
Catswood, Driftcombe Farm, High Wood,
Dillay Brook, The Scrubs, Famish Hill,
Sydenhams, The Camp, Calf Way, Wishanger Farm;
And all the while whilst we walked through woodland,
The tumbling waters of springs all around:
What euphony there is in the vowels and consonants
That litter our landscape with their litany!
What secrets of etymology and topography are revealed,
When we tramp the land rather than drive the road,
When we disconnect the sat-nav and navigate
By ancient tracks that connect our ancient springs.
Liminal shrines: those strange, trickling gateways
To mythopoeic underworlds of mystery,
(Or Limestone, Fullers’ Earth and Cotteswold Sands),
Quicksilver mercurial alchemy,
A continuous flow of constant change,
One sip of which will switch your sense of time
(Drinking rainwater that dropped who knows when),
Like star-shine from ancient constellations,
A laughing trick all that slakes and comforts,
Yet mocks the tension of the present tense,
A spring-tide clock whose hands revolve backwards,
With messages from another aeon.
John Clare: 150th anniversary of his death, Tuesday May 20th
Centenaries abound where ere the sun doth his successive journeys run: Dylan Thomas, Laurie Lee, World War One, my dad … but Tuesday May 20th marks the 150th year since the death of John Clare.
‘JD’ pointed out in the Guardian on Saturday that there is only one national event to mark this day; ‘JD’ adds that ‘this marks a falling-away from the Clare revival’ of some ten years ago, when Jonathan Bate’s biography praised Clare’s credentials, and not just as a working-class poet and as an opponent of enclosure.
We recalled this yesterday, when walking around Wotton: we gazed down into the vale at the quilt-work pattern of hedgerows, discussing the rule of thumb for the dating of a field hedge: one species of tree or shrub for every hundred years; many of our hedges were planted in the 18th century when the big, old, open fields of medieval times were, so to speak, privatised.
So why not commemorate John Clare with a walk on common land on Tuesday? If you have no common land close by, then find an interesting hedgerow, perhaps. But a common might be best because …
“The law locks up the man or woman
Who steals the goose from off the common
But leaves the greater villain loose
Who steals the common from off the goose.”
When you find your spot, we could do worse than read these lines of Clare’s about enclosure:
‘Far spread the moorey ground a level scene
Bespread with rush and one eternal green
That never felt the rage of blundering plough
Though centurys wreathed spring’s blossoms on its brow
Still meeting plains that stretched them far away
In uncheckt shadows of green brown, and grey
Unbounded freedom ruled the wandering scene
Nor fence of ownership crept in between
To hide the prospect of the following eye
Its only bondage was the circling sky
One mighty flat undwarfed by bush and tree
Spread its faint shadow of immensity
And lost itself, which seemed to eke its bounds
In the blue mist the horizon’s edge surrounds
Now this sweet vision of my boyish hours
Free as spring clouds and wild as summer flowers
Is faded all – a hope that blossomed free,
And hath been once, no more shall ever be
Inclosure came and trampled on the grave
Of labour’s rights and left the poor a slave
And memory’s pride ere want to wealth did bow
Is both the shadow and the substance now
The sheep and cows were free to range as then
Where change might prompt nor felt the bonds of men
Cows went and came, with evening morn and night,
To the wild pasture as their common right
And sheep, unfolded with the rising sun
Heard the swains shout and felt their freedom won
Tracked the red fallow field and heath and plain
Then met the brook and drank and roamed again
The brook that dribbled on as clear as glass
Beneath the roots they hid among the grass
While the glad shepherd traced their tracks along
Free as the lark and happy as her song
But now all’s fled and flats of many a dye
That seemed to lengthen with the following eye
Moors, loosing from the sight, far, smooth, and blea
Where swopt the plover in its pleasure free
Are vanished now with commons wild and gay
As poet’s visions of life’s early day
Mulberry-bushes where the boy would run
To fill his hands with fruit are grubbed and done
And hedgrow-briars – flower-lovers overjoyed
Came and got flower-pots – these are all destroyed
And sky-bound mores in mangled garbs are left
Like mighty giants of their limbs bereft
Fence now meets fence in owners’ little bounds
Of field and meadow large as garden grounds
In little parcels little minds to please
With men and flocks imprisoned ill at ease
Each little path that led its pleasant way
As sweet as morning leading night astray
Where little flowers bloomed round a varied host
That travel felt delighted to be lost
Nor grudged the steps that he had ta-en as vain
When right roads traced his journeys and again –
Nay, on a broken tree he’d sit awhile
To see the mores and fields and meadows smile
Sometimes with cowslaps smothered – then all white
With daiseys – then the summer’s splendid sight
Of cornfields crimson o’er the headache bloomd
Like splendid armys for the battle plumed
He gazed upon them with wild fancy’s eye
As fallen landscapes from an evening sky
These paths are stopt – the rude philistine’s thrall
Is laid upon them and destroyed them all
Each little tyrant with his little sign
Shows where man claims earth glows no more divine
But paths to freedom and to childhood dear
A board sticks up to notice ‘no road here’
And on the tree with ivy overhung
The hated sign by vulgar taste is hung
As tho’ the very birds should learn to know
When they go there they must no further go
Thus, with the poor, scared freedom bade goodbye
And much they feel it in the smothered sigh
And birds and trees and flowers without a name
All sighed when lawless law’s enclosure came
And dreams of plunder in such rebel schemes
Have found too truly that they were but dreams.
George Monbiot thinks that July 13th should be designated Clare Day – John Clare was born on the 13th July 1793, and Monbiot wrote in the Guardian on the 10th July 2012 of Clare’s eventual incarceration in an asylum: “But it seems to me that a contributing factor must have been the loss of almost everything he knew and loved. His work is a remarkable document of life before and after social and environmental collapse, and the anomie that resulted…John Clare, unlike Robert Burns…is a poet of the day. So a Clare Night…does not feel quite right. I’m not going to wait for anyone else. As far as I’m concerned, 13 July is Clare Day, and I’ll be raising a glass to celebrate and mourn him. I hope you’ll join me.”
Further grist to our mill comes from psycho-geographer Miles Coverley , who has pointed out how the Game Laws, enclosure and the privatization of public spaces such as common lands, resulted, in effect, in the criminalization of certain habits of walking. Walking could become defined as trespassing, when once it was merely an act of wandering. Thus, the 1824 Vagrancy Act defined a rogue and a vagabond as “every person wandering…lodging in any barn or outhouse…any deserted or unoccupied building, or in the open air, or under a tent, or in any cart or wagon, not having any visible means of subsistence and not giving a good account of himself or herself.” This Act followed statutes that had existed since the aftermath of the Peasants’ Revolt and the attacks on the poor instituted by the Tudor Poor Law.
Coverley mentioned an article by Donna Landry, “Radical Walking”, in which she tells us that “The ambiguity of walking can be traced to its association with vagrancy, the quintessential social crime in late sixteenth century Britain.” With this in mind, why not take a walk and have a night under the stars as an act of radical recreation and re-creation? Intone the following lines of John Clare’s as an explanation for your saunter:
“Unbounded freedom ruled the wandering scene
Nor fence of ownership crept in between
To hide the prospect of the following eye
Its only bondage was the circling sky…
Inclosure came in and trampled on the grave
Of labours rights and left the poor a slave…”
Flaneurs of the world unite on May 20th and July 13th: you have nothing to lose but your miles, furlongs, yards, feet, inches, and, of course, your chains.
A Stream of Consciousness at Stroud Museum On the Occasion of the Exhibition: ‘Artefact or Fiction?’
A Stream of Consciousness at Stroud Museum
On the Occasion of the Exhibition: ‘Artefact or Fiction?’
A stream of consciousness, a ream of conscience:
Art, artifice, artefact, artificer, fiction, faction,
Manufacturer, artisan, artisanal, fashion, zeitgeist,
Ornament, use, utility, Bentham, Gradgrind,
Truth, Keats, beauty, all ye know on earth,
Writ in water,
Illusion, allusion, the Age of Enlightenment,
Angels in the trees, William Blake,
‘Mind-forg’d manacles’,
The Age of Reason,
Induco et educo,
Positivism, empiricism, rationalism,
Kant, Hegel, Marx,
Phenomenology, Psycho-geography,
A postcard.
Fox Talbot, portraiture,
Reproduction, mass production, Warhol,
Subject, object, objectification, collection,
Museums, cabinets of curiosities, fetishisation,
Thomas Hardy, LS Lowry,
A store of value,
Mystification, religion, false consciousness,
Heritage, class, capitalism, agrarianism,
Forge, forger, Joe Gargery, Miss Havisham, Pip,
Clio, Cronos, harpe, sickle, lyre, liar,
Magic, logic, logarithm, algorithm, rhythm,
Metaphor, illusion, allusion,
Signs, systems, semiology,
Forge, build, create, establish, fashion, shape,
Frame, construct, invent, devise, contrive,
Fake, copy, reproduce, imitate, counterfeit,
Feign, falsify, coin, delude,
Conjure,
Educo non induco,
Linear Narrative and Meta-Narrative,
A stream of consciousness and a ream of conscience.
This is written as a commentary.
Please delete what you wish and add what you wish.
Thomas Duncombe and ‘No Pasaran!’ 10 km stroll, mid-May
Thomas Duncombe. and ‘No Pasaran!’ 10 km stroll, mid-May
‘No Pasaran!’ walk in Wotton Under Edge on Saturday 17th May to celebrate the life of Thomas Duncombe of the International Brigade and Wotton; killed in action at Gandesa. Meet at the parish church at mid-day.
Let me know if you want to attend.
There will be readings from A Gloucestershire Declamation when we reach the Spanish mountain oaks that we planted at the tail end of the last century.
This piece of research records the names and contributions of supporters of the anti-fascist cause in our area.
It is a unique piece of research that we lost and then re-discovered in a dusty old box, just before the box was thrown out.
Thank goodness Trish suggested one last search and a proper search inside the capacious and paper-filled box.
May Day Walk: from the Source of the Slad Brook to its Confluence with the Frome
May Day Walk:
from the Source of the Slad Brook to its Confluence with the Frome
Seventeen of us gathered at Bulls Cross,
(Oblivious of the midnight ghost coach spectre)
To cross longitude line 88 and a threshold
To another liminal world,
Where the hangman swung in Deadcome Bottom,
Where Cabbage –Stalk- Charlie and Percy-from-Painswick
Watched us from the shadows of the bluebell woods.
We reached the source of the Slad Brook,
Beech leaf green with a gravity rainbow,
Tripping to the sea, and tripping us
Two hundred years to water wheels and weavers.
We talked of Lee and Robert Frost and Edward Thomas –
But before we could take a path less travelled,
A redcoat appeared out of the wood to read the riot act.
We descended towards the village,
(Miss Flynn there: down by the pond)
When a young spinner stopped us in our tracks,
She told us why she had to go on strike,
Why there had been riots and gatherings
At the mills and on the hillsides and in Stroud;
She showed no remorse, nor regret, but pride.
Others looked for the invisible
What is hidden in the landscape,
But denoted on a map:
I saw Kel bend down and pick a roadside leaf,
Just as we reached longitude line 87;
We talked of longitude, chronometers, the Empire and slavery,
Just as we reached Stroud scarlet town.
The brook had now lost its wild dignity;
Culverted and trapped and tunneled,
But sometimes finding daylight in the streets,
At Badbrook, the bus station and the railway viaduct,
Then trickling past Macdonald’s and the main road,
Beneath and around a roundabout,
To reach the Frome, the Severn and the sea.
Slad to Stroud Walk: May Day 2pm
Laurie Lee Centenary Walk: Slad Brook from Source to Confluence
(As featured in the Site Festival 2104 Programme)
‘Without the Slad Brook there would have been no cloth trade in the local valleys around Slad. Without the cloth trade there would have been no riots in Slad and Stroud in 1825. Join us on a walk from the source of the brook to its confluence with the Frome in Stroud. Help us recreate the past along the partially culverted brook with psycho-geographical musings, notes on flora and fauna, together with performance.’
We’ll probably meet at Bulls Cross, rather than the Camp – will confirm – but it will definitely be on Thursday May 1st at 2pm.
The Site Festival Guide also says about the whole Laurie Lee Centenary Walks:
‘… All the walks are led by writers, poets, artists and historians… Walk leaders will each offer their own unique approach…’
We will have Kel Portman from Walking the Land leading us; John Bassett from Spaniel in the Works performing; I will do the historical contextualization bits.
Laurie Lee Walking Programme
- 1. The Slad Brook from its source to its confluence with the River Frome in Stroud (10 kms); meet at 2 pm at Bulls Cross.
- 2. ‘As We Walk Out’: from Slad to Southampton (approx.. 160 kms); 10th – 17thMay; time and meeting place tbc; invited walkers, artists, writers.
- 3. Wotton-under-Edge: Thomas Duncombe International Brigade Memorial Walk; 17th May, meet at noon at the St. Mary’s Church (10kms).
- 4. From Slad to Whiteway Colony (10 kms); 7th June, meet around 11.30 – 12 at the Woolpack; refreshments on arrival at Whiteway and then a performance of No Pasaran!
- 5. Slad family walk, 29th June (5 kms); meet at the Woolpack, time tbc.
- 6. ‘Crossing the Border’: Spanish Civil War Pyrenees walk, Ceret to La Agullana (36kms), 24th-25th July, meet 8.30, invited walkers, artists, writers etc.
- 7. From Purgatory to Paradise: 11kms, 2nd November, meet at 10 am at Knapp House Barn, Slad.
Go to http://www.walkingtheland.org.uk/ to book a place on any of these walks; scroll down until you see the Laurie Lee logo and details as to how to book are there. You need to follow the procedure there, I’m afraid; we have to be formal so that we stick to tolerable numbers for the walks.
Thanks,
Stuart
Review of ‘We Will Be Free!’ The Space, Stroud, March 7th.
A most enjoyable night watching ‘We Will Be Free!’ in Stroud; tremendous performances from Neil Gore and Charlotte Powell who played a variety of characters from both the agricultural labourers and the ruling class.
Interesting to hear the usual response from the squire to a plea for more wages – that would bankrupt the farmers and then where would you be, eh? Worse off, Loveless, eh? That sort of thing.
When I used to dig my gran’s garden in the 1960s for ten bob a time and talk about the old days, then my grannie would always try to counter my stuttering Marxism with the Daily Express line that if we didn’t have rich people then there wouldn’t be the money around to pay the workers, would there? A speaker from the audience pointed out that she had just heard the same thing in the morning on the media.
This is why the story of the Tolpuddle Martyrs, the Grand National Consolidated Trade Union, the Ant-Poor Law Movement and the Chartists and so on is so important. The decades of the 1830s and 40s were an ideological as well as material battleground, as different persuasions tried to understand and explain the dynamics of this new industrial capitalist society.
How could the rich get richer and the poor get poorer when more wealth was being created each year? How could this economic conundrum be understood?
In the blue corner: the trickle down neo-liberal ruling class explanation.
In the red corner: the profit is stolen wages explanation.
It could have gone either way – when I was at school, the commonly used (but objectionable) term used to describe the 1850s was ‘The Age of Equipoise’. The decade was described thus because the blue corner had won the material and ideological battle. If you were poor it was your own fault, nothing to do with low wages; you just weren’t trying hard enough.
But just think if it had gone the other way; just imagine a counter-factual world where collectivist, egalitarian principles governed society, the economy and the polity. The United Kingdom, the most powerful model to emulate at that time, would have been consequently copied elsewhere… and so, no Age of Empire, no Age of War, no Stalin, no Hitler, no Cold War, no ecological catastrophe…the list is endless… So go on, imagine…
That’s why this seemingly familial, parochial tragedy down in rural Dorset is part of a so much wider picture: part of a global chain of consequence. Thank you Neil and Charlotte for a thought-provoking evening, full of tragedy, comedy, pathos, song and music. The production is next on at the Rondo Theatre, Bath, on March 12th-13th – highly recommended. You will have a heartfelt but heart warming evening – Neil and Charlotte build a rapport with an audience from even before the word ‘Go’
Radical Stroud Comes To Town: London Pub and Literary Walk, November 29th

Radical Stroud Comes To Town: London Pub and Literary Walk
We are not sure when we shall make this trip, but I thought I might post it for others to enjoy, recce and navigate. The walk takes in pubs with noteworthy interiors as well as two or three short literary pilgrimages. If half-pints of beer were to be slowly consumed at the pubs on our trail, together with soft drinks too, then memory should be active and inebriation, as well as bladder, controlled. We recommend an early train: all these precautions should avoid any spoonerism on the return journey. No town drain for our party. Alternatively, if you don’t trust yourself, take two days over this public house peregrination.
1. Assuming you arrive from the West Country and into Paddington, then let’s take the Bakerloo Line to Oxford Circus and a trip to the Argyll Arms, Argyll Street (by Oxford Circus tube):
‘The interior dates from 1895 and has been described as ‘one of the most magnificently decorated pub interiors in England’; it has unusual small cubicles in the front bar, with cut glass screens, decorative mirrors and elaborate mahogany. The Luftwaffe as well as Modernity managed to miss this example of fin de siècle social stratification.’
2. Next up: the Tottenham in Fitzrovia, 6 Oxford Street. It’s going to be busy but early doors might allow us to enjoy the Victoriana in this grade 2 listed building.
3. We then walk past old haunts around UCL to get to 7 Roger Street and the Duke of York. ‘A grade 2 listed art deco treasure.’
4. It’s now time for a pub break and a bit of culture and so we then walk to 48 Doughty Street and Charles Dickens’ house and museum.
5. After that, we toddle off to High Holborn to sample the delights of the Cittie of Yorke (1920s) (number 22) and the Victorian Princess Louise (208-9).
6. Next, a visit to Clerkenwell Green for both a literary and historical pilgrimage. It is here where the Artful Dodger and Fagin led Oliver Twist into pickpocketing; it is here where radical Lollardy thrived: ‘When Adam delved and Eve span, Who was then he gentleman?’ It is here where Chartism was nurtured in the 19th century and it is here where Marxism was also fostered: we’ll look at 37a Clerkenwell Green, the Marx Memorial Library, as well as the Crown Tavern at number 43 (where legend has it that Lenin and Stalin had a chinwag in 1905).
7. We’ll also make a trip to Spa Fields behind Exmouth Market in Clerkenwell. This was the site of the radical meeting for extension of the vote in 1816, when Henry Hunt spoke in favour of a peaceful widening of the franchise. Revolutionary followers of Thomas Spence marched on to the Tower, robbing a gunsmith’s en route. The Spenceans were a revolutionary group dedicated to equality, but were infiltrated by agents provocateurs. Executions occurred after the Cato Street Conspiracy (meeting place near the Edgeware Road) of 1820, when the group planned to assassinate the Cabinet.
8. Now it’s time to go to Fleet Street and the Old Cheshire Cheese at 145. Rebuilt after the Great Fire and no natural lighting inside today; lots of gloomy rooms; lots of 19th century paneling; cellars possibly 13th century (site of a Carmelite Monastery); regulars have included Goldsmith, Twain, Tennyson, Conan Doyle, Chesterton, Dickens (a scene from A Tale of Two Cities also set here) and possibly Johnson.
9. Talking of which, it’s now time to visit Dr. Johnson’s house just over the way in 17 Gough Square, off Fleet Street. Then off to:
10. Blackfriars Pub, 174 Queen Victoria Street; Art Nouveau pub; saved from demolition in the 1960s with support from John Betjeman.
11. Then a walk to the Old Mitre Tavern, Ely Court, Ely Place, Hatton Garden, Holborn Circus: ‘There’s a sense of discovery when you find the Old Mitre Tavern. It’s hidden down an alleyway between 8 and 9 Hatton Garden, marked by an old crooked street lamp and a small sign in the shape of a bishop’s mitre, the arched alleyway entrance has a sign above stating “Ye Olde Mitre 1546”. Despite these clues many who work in the area don’t know it exists. This tiny pub is a real hidden gem. ‘
12. Now to Bunhill Fields Cemetery, City Road EC1:
‘This old burial ground, shaded by mature plane trees, is situated on the edge of the City. Bunhill Fields was first set aside as a cemetery during the Great Plague of 1665. The ground was never apparently consecrated and twenty years later it became a popular burial ground for Nonconformists, who were banned from being buried in churchyards because of their refusal to use the Church of England prayer book. Bunhill Fields was soon known as ‘ the cemetery of Puritan England’. Although much is now cordoned off, it is still possible to walk through and find monuments to John Bunyan, Daniel Defoe and William Blake, as well as to members of the Cromwell family. John Milton lived in Bunhill Row, on the west side of the cemetery, from 1662 until his death in 1674. Some of Milton’s greatest works were written here, including ‘Paradise Lost’. Across the road from Bunhill Fields is the Methodist Museum and John Wesley’s House. ‘
13. And so to the Salisbury, 90 St Martin’s Lane, Covent Garden:
The building went up in 1892, a restaurant by the name of the ‘Salisbury Stores’ (see the double ‘S’ in the windows); it was converted into a pub in 1898, hence the massive mirrors, eye catching fitments and art nouveau ambience.
14. Now on to the Hand and Shears, Cloth Fair, 1 Middle Street, EC1:
‘This delightful little pub is a good example of an early nineteenth century alehouse. Its plain and simple interior has matchboarded walls and an oak floor. Although small, it is divided into four bar areas, each served from the central bar island. One snug is so small, it can hold only about eight customers.
A 12th century alehouse stood here, in the precincts of St. Bartholomew’s Priory. In August 1133, the first cloth fair was held at Smith Field nearby. Tailors and drapers came from all-over the country to ply their trade. By Tudor times the Cloth Fair had taken on an official role for Merchant Tailors, whose officers would check cloth with a yard stick. Offenders caught giving short measure, were brought to the alehouse and their case heard in a court upstairs. The guilty were put in stocks or whipped.
Eventually the alehouse was officially adopted by the Merchant Tailors of London and was allowed to display the guilds sign, the ‘hand and shears’. The Lord Mayor opened the fair from the steps of the pub. The last one was held in 1855. Poet John Betjeman who lived nearby was a regular.’
15. Next stop: Viaduct Tavern, 126 Newgate Street – ‘This impressive corner pub faces its famous namesake, Holborn Viaduct. Queen Victoria opened it in 1869, the Viaduct not the pub, although they were both opened in the same year. Holborn Viaduct was the world’s first flyover, connecting Holborn with Newgate Street, avoiding a deep dip in the road caused by the River Fleet. Although this striking Victorian pub has a large curved frontage, the interior is surprisingly small. Many of the original features have survived. On one wall, three paintings of wistful maidens represent agriculture, banking and the arts. The ‘arts’ was attacked (some say shot, others bayoneted) by a drunken First World War soldier, and she still bears the scar.’
16. Now to the Dog and Duck, Bateman Street, Soho:
‘Many famous historical figures have enjoyed the hospitality of The Dog and Duck, including John Constable, Dante Gabriel Rossetti and George Orwell. The pub was originally built in 1734 on the site of the Duke of Monmouth’s home. The present building was built in 1897, and is considered to have one of London’s most exquisite interiors of the period, characterised by thousands of highly glazed tiles.’
17. Next up: The Red Lion, St James’s:
‘One of London’s most magnificent pubs, a real must on any visitor’s list. From the outside it looks pleasant enough, plain brick with some ornate ironwork, typical of many in town; inside there’s a wonderful and surprising contrast.
Dazzling ‘brilliant-cut’ mirrors cover the walls, their intricate patterns sparkle as they catch the light, giving the impression of a much bigger space. This pub is really quite small and it seems remarkable it was once divided into several smaller bars. The island counter made from rich polished mahogany adds to the glare. Glass and mirrors were very fashionable in the late 1800’s and as the technology improved, the designs became more ornate and intricate. To modern tastes it may seem almost too garish.
Built in 1821 on the site of a previous pub, the Red Lion was redesigned in the 1870’s. It is often described as a ‘gin palace’ but was refitted long after the ‘mother’s ruin’ gin era. This pub was designed to impress and create an aura of opulent respectability. It served the staff of the surrounding grand houses and, in its own way, provided some of the sumptuous ‘above stairs’ living for those ‘below stairs’.’
Addendum:
The below could be a bolt-on or it could be part of a separate journey; it involves London’s lost rivers, together with Highgate, Kentish Town and Hampstead.
Nicholas Barton’s ‘The Lost Rivers of London’ is, of course, a watery mine of information: the River Fleet rises in Highgate and Hampstead and those sources fuse at Camden Town (old prints show it flowing between what is now Camden Tube station and The Mother Red Cap pub – but then, the tube station was the site of St. Pancras Workhouse). The river now winds its way below Kentish Town Road, St. Pancras, under the Regent’s Canal, King’s Cross, then west of King’s Cross, under Farringdon Road, Holborn Viaduct (Holborn = Hole-bourne = stream in the hollow) and so to the Thames.
The River Tyburn has two sources in Hampstead and Belsize Park. It flows down through Swiss Cottage to Regent’s Park, across the Regent’s Canal by aqueduct, with its old eastern bank denoted by the winding line of Marylebone Lane (St. Mary by the bourne); then along Baker Street to Piccadilly (Tyburn Road is now Oxford Street); then east of Grosvenor and Berkeley Squares, below Lansdowne Passage, under Piccadilly, down Green Park towards Buckingham Palace and so to the Thames (btw, the Tyburn Tree gallows were near what is now Marble Arch and Tyburn Lane is now Park Lane).
We can pick up some of this on our pub walk but we may also want to visit Karl Marx’s grave in Highgate Cemetery (close by social-Darwinist Herbert Spencer’s grave: Marx and Spencer) and have a walk around Kentish Town and Hampstead to see John Keats’ house and that nightingale tree.
This might necessitate a visit to the wonderful Holly Bush in Hampstead.
Finally, when we are out east, we have to think about the River Walbrook, flowing into the City (have a look for Bloomfield Street and Curtain Road) and when we return to Paddington, we have to reflect on the River Westbourne and the prevalence (eleven) of street names in the Paddington area denoting that lost river, whilst there is also a Bourne Street in Chelsea, near the river’s destiny at the Thames.
