Ep 18 The Albert & The Morpeth Arms - Princes, Prisons, Spies & Spirits

Two fine pubs in the Pimlico area with great legends and architecture
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Google map with pubs covered in previous episodes pinned, courtesy of Andy Meddick:

https://www.google.com/maps/d/u/4/edit?mid=12c-WKa3XiT1qTLydK8psZocUR7Y_Wes&usp=sharing

Or TinyURL: https://tinyurl.com/bduca5dv

The following resources are referenced or quoted frequently in these episodes:

• Ted Bruning  -- Historic Pubs of London (ISBN 978-0658005022) and London By Pub (ISBN 978-0658005022)
• Wikipedia
• https://londonspubswherehistoryreallyhappened.wordpress.com/  by Ann Laffeaty

Additionally, the  following resource(s) were used in researching this episode:

https://www.greeneking.co.uk/our-company/our-history

https://www.morpetharms.com/our-history/

MillbankPrison from the air:  https://grupaok.tumblr.com/post/61441668673/millbank-penitentiary-london-aerial-view-1891

Intro music:
Vivaldi - Spring Allegro by John Harrison w/ the Wichita State University Chamber Orch

Photo:  
Matt Brown, Lic: https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/

Website: https://historiclondonpubcast.com/

E-mail: hosteric@historiclondonpubcast.com

Transcript

Welcome to this episode of The Historic London Pubcast. I'm Eric Blair, and I'd like to take you on a journey through the rich history of London's iconic pubs. My goal is to share with you my passion for the great old pubs of London. I want to give you some facts to help you appreciate the history of these hallowed establishments mixed in with some fun stories that make it all go down as smooth as a well poured pint. 

Today we'll cover two pubs, one in Westminster and the other a bit further south in the area, closer to the river known as Pimlico. Our Westminster pub is The Albert, 52 Victoria Street. The Albertwas built in 1862 on the site of an earlier pub, first recorded in 1831 and called The Blue Coat Boy. That name came from the famous charity school nearby.

The Artillery Brewery acquired The Blue Coat Boy in the middle 19th Century, and the structure was rebuilt between 1862 and 1867 by Joseph Carter Wood, Artillery Brewery's Owner. The pub was renamed The Albertin tribute to Queen Victoria's husband Albert, The Queen Consort. The pub had several changes of management in the second half of the 1800s. Finally, ownership changed in 1898, Watneys merged with two other London breweries with the intent to join in the pub building and acquiring rage going on at the time. The Albert was one of its first purchases. 

Wiki tells us,

“During World War Two, The Albert survived The Blitz, and the striking facade and Victorian features have remained virtually untouched. The ornate ceilings, hand frosted glass windows and wrought iron balconies are all original features. The Albert is the only remaining building from the original phase of the development of Victoria Street.”

Before we talk further about the pub, let's understand a bit about its namesake, Prince Albert, Queen Victoria's husband. Born in 1819, in Germany, then known as The German Confederation, he was the first cousin to Victoria, who herself was the granddaughter of the British King George the Third and Queen Charlotte. We talk about George and Charlotte in the Episode covering The Queen's Larder pub in Bloomsbury,Because the reigning son of George and Charlotte, Victoria's uncle, had no children, Victoria became the Heir to The Crown. There was lots of discussion as to who she would marry. Clearly it must be a Royal of some sort. Prince Alexander of the Netherlands was a contender, but Victoria was taken by the gentle, good-looking German, Herr Albert. Both Bride and Groom were aged 20 when the marriage took place in 1840.

At that point, Victoria was already on the throne, so you could say that Albert lad married up. They went on to have nine children, and those kids went on to marry into royal and noble families across the continent. As a result, Victoria was referred to as, ‘The Grandmother of Europe.’ 

It took a while for Albert and the British public to settle into one another. Initially, he was perceived to be from an impoverished and undistinguished minor state, barely larger than a small English County. Remember, at that time Germany was not unified, so Albert was just from his local area of Germany. The Prime Minister advised The Queen against granting her husband the title of King Consort. Parliament also objected to Albert being credited as a Peer, partly because of anti-German sentiment and the desire to exclude Albert from any political role. 

Albert had his concerns as well. He felt constrained by his role, which did not afford him power or responsibilities. He gradually developed a reputation for supporting public causes such as educational reform and the abolition of slavery Empire wide. He was entrusted with running The Queen's household offices and estates. He was heavily involved with the organization of The Great Exhibition of 1851, which was a resounding success.

Victoria came to depend more and more on Albert's support and guidance. He aided the development of Britain's Constitutional Monarchy by persuading his wife to be less partizan in her dealings with the British Parliament, but he actively disagreed with the interventionist foreign policy pursued during Lord Palmerston’s tenure as Foreign Secretary. After 17 years, Albert had established a positive image with the public from the time of his marriage. He was formally titled His Royal Highness Prince Albert, but in 1857 Victoria had the political capital to formally grant him the title Prince Consort. In 1859, Albert's health began to decline. He fell seriously ill with stomach cramps, which proved to be chronic. His steadily worsening medical condition led to a sense of despair. It did not help that in the following year, on a visit to the continent, he was in a runaway four horse carriage, and had to jump for his life. He was not seriously injured, but from his comments to family members, this event was just further evidence to him that his time had come. There was further stress in the subsequent months helping The Queen negotiate some embarrassing family issues. In December of 1861, Albert died at age 42. Although not diagnosed at the time, current thinking is that he likely died of a chronic disease such as Crohn's disease, or kidney failure, or abdominal cancer. 

Wiki reports,

“The Queen's grief was overwhelming, and the tepid feelings that the public had for Albert were replaced by sympathy. The widow Victoria never recovered from Albert's death. Biographies published after his death were typically heavy on eulogy.” 

So, good things were said about him after he passed. Always nice, but he was about to get the highest honor to my mind, that anyone can have.

Remember, the next year the pub was rebuilt and it was named The Albert. Further, there are at least two other pubs named The Albert in London today. So, R.I.P sweet Prince, we drink to your good works. 

Okay, so that's the name. Let's talk about today's pub as I prepare for this episode. I have just returned from my annual visit to London's pubs. Although I have been crawling historic London pubs for over two decades, somehow, I have never been to The Albert. I made it a priority for this trip, and I am so glad I did. It is a wonderful pub, so I have a bit more personal comments to relate in this episode than usual. The walk up to the pub is interesting. It is now sandwiched in between large government office buildings on either side, making an eye-catching contrast when the block is viewed from afar. The Albert is snug in there and just screams come see me! When I entered, I was struck by two things - the beautiful cut glass windows, and the overall balance between the dark and light that results from the natural illumination coming in from the windows strikes the dark wood architecture of the interior. 

I was told by a tour guide a couple of trips ago, as we passed the area in a coach, that the cut glass windows were removed during World War two and taken to the countryside for safekeeping until the bombing campaign was resolved. I have not been able to confirm this elsewhere, but the beautiful windows do indeed predate the war, so that may be the reason why the pub has an open main section and on one side leading to a back-room area. This back snug is dedicated to the memory of Henry Purcell, an English Composer of Baroque music living in the second half of the 17th Century. Wiki offers that Purcell's musical style was uniquely English, although incorporated Italian and French elements. He is generally considered among the greatest England Opera Composers. So why the focus on Purcell in a pub that was built 200 years after he was born?

I can only guess that it's because he is a local lad made good. He was born at Saint Anne's Lane, Westminster, in 1659. About a five-minute walk from today's pub. In this room is also a picture of that lover of music, lover of women, and lover of ale houses - Samuel Pepys. Why is he here? Well, apparently there's an entry in his Diary mentioning a visit to a coffee house around Westminster where he met with a, 

“Mr. Locke and Mr. Purcell, Masters of Music.”

and where,

“here we had a variety of brave Italian and Spanish songs and a canon for eight voices.”

 Since this was in 1659, the Mr. Purcell referred to had to be Henry's father, not the Composer, who was still an infant at that time. So, linking to Composer Purcell is a bit of a stretch, but Samuel always takes a good picture, so it's not that out of place in the pub's room honoring Composer Purcell. The Senior Purcell was a Singer rather than a Composer, and performed at Charles The Second's Coronation, evidently well enough for Pepys to regard him as, “A Master of Music.”

So, the downstairs has the open area with the bar and the surrounding cut glass windows, and The Purcell Room in the back on one side. But wait, there's more. Proceed upstairs to what is called The Division Bar. As you climb, you will see pictures of the Prime Ministers along the way. As you reach the top of the stairs, you will see The House of Commons Division Bell. It is there, evidently, so the MPs can interrupt their imbibing and get back to Parliament, a ten-minute walk away, for important votes. Got to cater to your clientele, you know. Many pub upstairs rooms are more functional than elaborate, but not so here. This room is just as fancy as the downstairs, with braided curtains in place of the cut glass of the room below.

The pub is owned and operated by Greene King, whose website states that it is now the country's leading pub Retailer and Brewer, with over 3100 pub, restaurants, and hotels across England, Wales and Scotland. The website gives us a bit about their history, 

“Greene King was founded in 1799 by Benjamin Greene, who managed the business for 37 years before passing it on to his son Edward. It is important to acknowledge that after founding the Brewery, Benjamin went on to own cane sugar plantations in the West Indies, where he enslaved people and used their labor even in the 1800s. His views on slavery were deeply unpopular. He wrote columns in his own newspaper in Bury Saint Edmunds criticizing Abolitionists following his father's departure. Edward Greene grew the business to the point where he merged operations with business rival Frederick King, and Greene King started to become more recognizable as the brewery we see today.”

Okay. We all have ancestors who made poor decisions. Greene King acquired The Albert as part of a group of pubs in 2004. Pubs make strange bedfellows, don't they? Benjamin Greene, a staunch slavery advocate, founded a company that now owns a pub named for a Royal who worked tirelessly to abolish slavery throughout The Empire. I applaud Greene King for being upfront about their Founder and for doing a good job in running today's pub.

One final attribute about The Albert. It is what my pub crawl buddy and I call, ‘An Early Opener.’ 9 a.m. every day so you can have a pint with breakfast if you’re a mind to. My visit took advantage of the early hours, and the pub was not crowded and a real gem to explore at the beginning of the day! Keep up the good work Greene King and The Albert.

The second pub today is The Morpeth Arms, about a 20-minute walk south to just near the river. As I mentioned at the start, this pub is in an area known as Pimlico. How did it get its name? There are several theories, but the one I like best came from Ben Pimlico, a 17th Century Owner of a famous ale house or tea garden and brewery of a particularly sought-after nut-brown ale. I'll go with an etymology involving beer any time! 

The Morpeth Arms pub is inextricably linked to Millbank Prison. So, let's start by talking about the history of that lock up. Okay. Set The Wayback Machine to 1748, when a male child named Jeremy Bentham was born around Aldgate, London to a wealthy family. The young Jeremy was soon recognized as a prodigy. And not for not, he was to become a highly regarded intellectual of his time. A true Renaissance Man, delving into economics, law, philosophy and social policy. He is the Founder of Modern Utilitarianism. So, you may ask, exactly what is that? I know I did. Wiki defines it as, 

“A family of normative ethical theories that prescribe actions that maximize happiness and well-being for the affected individuals.”

In other words, Utilitarian ideas encourage actions that ensure the greatest good for the greatest number. Bentham is also credited for inspiring the founding of University College London. He died in 1832 at age 84. Bentham left instructions for his body to be first dissected, and then to be permanently preserved as a, 

“Auto Icon,” 

or self-image, which would be his memorial.

This was done and the “Auto Icon” is now on public display in the entrance of the Student Center at University College London. In the 1780s, when he was a young man. Jeremy visited his brother in Russia, who was managing several projects for the Royalty there. Somehow, from discussions with his brother and what he observed there, he became interested in an idea called, ‘The Panopticon,’ a circular building at the hub of a larger compound as a means of allowing a small number of managers to oversee activities of a large and unskilled workforce. He saw this as the model for a new prison in Britain. He developed the design and spent almost two decades trying to bring it to reality. He only got as far as convincing The Crown to purchase land for the prison. In 1799, the land which would eventually be used for the prison was purchased from the Marquis of Salisbury for 12,000 pounds.

Now a side note, the Marquis of Salisbury was the grandfather of the third Marquis of Salisbury, who gave his name to The Salisbury pub at Covent Garden. See The Gin Palace's Number One Episode for further details. There you have it. Further evidence that if you know the history of its pubs, you know the history of London. Okay, back to Jeremy.

The project Jeremy wanted had a hard time getting off the ground, and eventually he became disenchanted with it. But the powers that be wanted to go forward in putting in a prison on the site, just not Bentham's design. An architectural competition for the new prison building on the Millbank site attracted 43 entrants. The winning design was that of William Williams, a hub and spoke approach where the warders occupied a central area and the inmates were in the surrounding sections. So, Jeremy's idea did persist, at least in concept. 

The construction was hampered by the marshy ground of the location, and the project had to be modified as it was being built. The project eventually had a100% overrun of budget, costing 500,000 pounds, a big chunk of change in its day. Even with all that money spent. The prison had a less than auspicious start to its function. Wiki tells us,

“The first prisoners, all women, were admitted in June 1816. The first men arrived in January 1817. The prison held 103 men and 109 women by the end of 1817, and 452 men and 326 women by late 1822. Sentences of 5 to 10 years in national penitentiary were offered as an alternative to transportation to those most likely to reform.

Just to be clear, the term transportation refers to the punishment of being sent to Australia. Those who chose to serve their sentence in Millbank rather than go to Australia probably lived to regret it. In addition to the problems of construction, the marshy site fostered disease to which prisoners had little immunity owing to their extremely poor diet. In 1822 through 23, an epidemic swept through the prison, a mixture of dysentery, scurvy, depression, and other disorders.

The decision was eventually taken to evacuate the buildings for several months. The female prisoners were released and the male prisoners temporarily transferred to prison hulks. In other words, ships permanently anchored in the river specifically for imprisonment. Even these hulks were better than The Millbank. The transferred prisoners’ health improved. The design of Millbank turned out to be unsatisfactory. The network corridors were so labyrinthine that even the warders got lost and the ventilation system allowed sound to carry, so that the prisoners could communicate between cells.

Further, the annual running cost turned out to be an unsupportable 16,000 pounds. In view of these problems, it was decided to build a new model prison at Pentonville, which operated in 1842 and took over Millbank’s role as the National Penitentiary. Millbank’s status was downgraded, and it became only a holding depot for convicts prior to transportation. Every person sentenced to transport station was sent to Millbank first, where they were held for three months before their destination was decided.

By 1850, around 4000 people were condemned annually to transportation from the UK. Prisoners awaiting transportation were kept in solitary confinement, and restricted to silence for the first half of their sentence. Large scale transportation ended in 1853, although the practice continued on a reduced scale until 1867, and Millbank then became an ordinary local prison, and from 1870, a military prison. By 1886 it had ceased to hold inmates, and it closed in 1890. Demolition began in 1892 and continued sporadically until 1903. So where does the pub fit in all of this? The Morpeth Arms itself, was built in 1845 by Paul Dangerfield for the Warders from Millbank prison. Ted Bruning in Historic Pubs of London, talks of, 

An unsung hero that made Dangerfield's plan possible. Thomas Cuthbert, who was active in the early mid 1800s in draining swamps of southwest London, Cuthbert not only drained this area where The Morpeth Arms now sits, but also cleared the land for Mr. Dangerfield.”

Toast to Tom Cuthbert. So how did they come up with the name? It was named after the town of Morpeth in Northumberland, England. This was the hometown of the prison Governor of the time. A bit of sucking up to the boss of your intended clientele. 

The pub website gives us a few more details about life in the prison, 

“Prisoners in Millbank Prison resided in hammocks in their cells and work predominantly as Tailors, getting three meals a day, and brought by the kitchen staff and prisoners who worked in the kitchen. After some time, New South Wales authorities complained that large bodies of men were being sent over annually without women. So, Millbank Prison endeavored to send as many women as possible over. The female prisoners did all the laundry, and those who only had seven-year sentences would have had every right to be repatriated from Australia back home when they were free. However, many women could not return home, leading to their banishment for life.” 

So, with that background, let's reset The Wayback Machine to today and talk about what you will see when you visit the pub at 58 Millbank Road. You enter a nice-looking pub, but soon see references to the site's dark history. There are pictures on the wall of inmates of the prison. It doesn't look like they were particularly happy when the photos were snapped. I'm kind of glad these guys have cleared out. I don't think I'd like to mess with any of them. Now look to your right. There is a closed-circuit TV monitoring a tunnel with some arched subterranean cells. These are actually below the pub, and it is said you can try to get a tour if you can smooth-talk the staff into taking you down there. The closed-circuit TV was good enough for me though. The camera has an additional benefit of being a continual monitor for the reported ghost that haunts the tunnel. I didn't see any apparitions when I was there, and I couldn't find anything on the Internet that shows the camera catching a ghost. But who knows, maybe you'll have better luck. 

The pub was located right outside the prison walls and the tunnels supposedly connected to the prison. The very congenial General Manager, Anthony Blake, pointed out that you can see an aerial view of the prison as it was by Googling ‘Aerial photograph Millbank prison.’ I have put a link in the notes.

The pub is just outside the prison wall by the river, but you can't really see it in the photo. You do get a good idea though, of the prison's design. The pub has another feature. It is directly across the river from the MI6 Headquarters. MI6 is Britain's secret intelligence service, like America's CIA. The upstairs of the pub plays up to this location. It is named The Spying Room. You do get a good view of the river and the formidable-looking building on the other side, where all the James Bond types are officed. On the wall there are spy memorabilia, including pictures of the members of The Cambridge Spy Ring, the five young men of privilege who spied for the Russians in the 1940s and 50s. Perhaps you will recognize some of their last names. I think the most famous are Philby, Burgess and McLean. 

I asked General Manager Blake, what do The Cambridge Spy Ring have to do with the pub? And he said, really? Not much. One guy supposedly went to a school in the area during his pre-college days, and another was said to have drank in the pub, but spies are always fascinating, so seeing their pictures at the same time, you look out upon the building of their nemesis while sipping a pint ain't so bad. So, this is to Morpeth. You might see a ghost or a spy in addition to having a nice brewski. 

That brings us to the close of this episode. Thanks for listening.

Please like, subscribe, thumbs up, and all that as you see fit. And you can drop me a note at hosteric@historiclondonpubcast.com. I'll be back with another episode soon. I do so like talking about historic London pubs. Till then, Cheers!