Ep 38 Nunhead to Toes - Peckham Pub Crawl Pt 1 - London's First Community Owned Pub & Ancient Taverns, Cricket & Fireworks

In this episode, we cover three pubs in the Peckham Rye/Nunhead area: The Ivy House, The Pyrotechnist’s Arms and The Old Nun’s Head

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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 / quoted in this episode:

Ivy House

https://pubwiki.co.uk/LondonPubs/Camberwell/NewlandsTavern.shtml

https://whatpub.com/pubs/SEL/10680/ivy-house-nunhead

https://www.ivyhousenunhead.com/

“Public House” film review: https://londonist.com/2015/10/an-audio-visual-tapestry-about-london-s-first-co-op-pub

William Blake

https://www.barnflakes.com/blog/2017/05/william-blakes-vision-of-angels-in.html

Pyrotechnist’s Arms

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

https://london.randomness.org.uk/wiki.cgi?Pyrotechnists_Arms%2C_SE15_3QF

https://exploring-london.com/2023/09/18/london-pub-signs-the-pyrotechnists-arms/

https://www.stonegatepubpartners.co.uk/

Old Nun’s Head

https://www.designmynight.com/london/pubs/peckham/the-old-nuns-head

https://pubology.wordpress.com/2008/07/10/old-nuns-head/

https://transpont.blogspot.com/2012/05/history-corner-1912-nunhead-tragedies.html

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

Photo:  Ewan Munro

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.

We're down south of the river today to Peckham, and specifically the part of that area known as Nunhead. Frequent Listeners will know the first question that comes to our mind. How the heck did he it that name? Wiki tells us the origin of the name Nunhead is not certain, but it's believed to be derived from a local inn named variously the Nun's Head or the Nun Head Tavern.

Local historians and local legends maintain that this name refers to the beheading of a nun during the dissolution of the monasteries. Side note remember it that happened as part of Henry the Eighth’s Plan to resolve his family troubles. The legend claims that the head of the Mother Superior of a Nunnery, which stood where the current public house, The Old Nuns Head now stands, was placed on a spike on the green following her death. There is no evidence to support this. 

Thanks, Wiki. We love legends, but without evidence this one may seem a bit too fantastic to believe. I am just guessing here, but we know that there are a lot of pubs named the Queen's Head, the King's Head, Shakespeare's Head without referring to a decapitation. So what if the old inn just took the name to honor the Nunnery in the area and the name stuck?

Our first pub is The Ivy House at 40 Stuart Road. The roots of this pub go back to the 1860s. Not that far back in relative pub time, but have you ever known someone who seems to have had almost every experience you can think of? You know, like wrote an early computer virus, dated a Bond Girl, ran a goat yoga retreat in Cornwall, and now teaches mindfulness to Hedge Fund Managers? The Ivy House is kind of like that guy. It all started around 1860, when Thomas Dickinson left Marylebone and headed south to what was then Moorfields in Streets. He built one of the area’s first buildings and put it to work on two essential fronts, sheltering his family and serving beer. In 1885, Dickinson secured a full fixtures license, which in plain terms meant he could now sell more than just beer.

The place officially became The Newlands Tavern, with the legal right to serve wine, spirits and for public house experience. By all accounts, it was a local favorite. It became central to the community, hosting The Newlands Music Society and serving as a gathering place for cricket enthusiasts. Now let's talk a little bit more about the pub’s cricket years. The Newlands Tavern was a natural for cricket fans.

Just a stone's throw from Peckham Rye Common, where local clubs had been knocking balls around since 1700s. After a long inning, it wasn't a far ramble for a pint. And believe me, back then cricket was a big deal. It's hard to overstate just how cricket mad the Victorians were. The game wasn't just a pastime, it was a philosophy, a morality tale played out in whites on village greens and county grounds. To play was to show character. To spectate was practically a civic duty. And wherever there was grass and half decent weather, someone was marking a pitch from Dukes to Dockworkers. Cricket was the great summer leveler. And standing at the very center of that national obsession, larger than life with a bat like battering ram, was W.G. Grace, and he was a patron of the pub.

If you're after a modern comparison, think Tom Brady's staying power crossed with David Beckham's star power, and then give him a beard so mighty that it could frighten livestock! Grace wasn't just good. He was a phenomenon. He played first class cricket for over 40 years, scoring more than 50,000 runs and took nearly 3000 wickets. He captained England in the sport's earliest international matches.

He was still lacing up his boots at age 60. Stepping on to the pitch with a punch and a glint in his eye and still making bowlers regret their life choices. But Grace wasn't just a machine, he was a character. Remember I mentioned the beard? Biblical. Flowing, iconic Z.Z Top esque! His signature look, and dig this, the man was also a licensed Physician.

“I'm a Doctor for money and a Cricketer for fun,” 

he liked to say, though many suspected the truth ran the other way round. Still, the title stuck. Doctor Grace swatting wickets by day, treating ailments by appointment. After a long day, cricketing Grace was known to be found in the pub, surrounded by admirers, trading tall tales and cricket lore.

The Doc, like cricket, was a big deal in his day, so with a good community clientele and bolstered by the cricket crowd, all went well. As the pub moved into the 20th century. In the early 1920s, Truman's Brewery took a 14 year lease on the pub. Truman's is not a household name now, but it was back then. Established in the 17th century and based at the Black Eagle Brewery on Brick Lane in East London.

Truman's had grown to become one of the largest breweries in the world by the 19th Century, producing 400,000 barrels annually by 1853. Their extensive portfolio of pubs across London was a testament to their dominance in the brewing industry. By the 1920s and 30s, as the old Victorian pubs were falling out of fashion, Truman's doubled down on a fresh vision cleaner, brighter, more respectable drinking spaces. 

And for that they turned to their in-house Architect, Arthur Edward Sewell  - a man who left a bigger mark on London's pub scene than most people realize. Sewell wasn't one for headlines or high drama, but his fingerprints are all over the pub landscape of interwar London from the 1920s to the 1930s. Truman's had him designing or remodeling over 50 pubs across the capital and beyond.

His style - understated elegance. No marble columns or grandiose domes here, just solid craftsmanship, clean lines and quiet confidence in red brick and polished wood. Sewell’s pubs were part of a broader mission, a sort of image rehab for the British boozer. After the First World War, there was a push to civilize the drinking scene, make pubs more respectable, more welcoming and, crucially, more versatile.

His interiors offered warm paneled walls, patterned floors, deco light fixtures and perhaps most notably, multi-use spaces. These weren't just drinking dens, they were community hubs with lounge bars, saloon bars and full on assembly halls. You could grab a pint, take your Gran to a tea dance and catch a local man all under one roof. 

The Newlands Tavern was a natural for this type of upgrade. The old tavern was pulled down and a completely new building put up. The newly constructed pub reopened in 1938 and featured a social hall that could accommodate 150 people, confirming its continued commitment to being a center of the community. Fast forward to 1944 and bombs were falling. On July 1st, a V-1 bomb struck nearby. Many houses were destroyed and sadly 17 people were killed but the pub's construction was robust and the building survived. Truman's Brewery struggled as a company after the war, and their influence over the pub waned, but they left it with a darn good building. From the 1950s onward, the pub began to become a venue for various musical acts. It's said that early versions of bands that would morph into Pink Floyd and Status Quo performed there. Now famous musicians who took the stage with their early bands include folks like Elvis Costello, Nick Lowe, Graham Parker, Rory Gallagher and Jeff Beck. The pub musical legacy continued for over 50 years until redevelopment emerged as a threat in 2011. We'll get to that, but there are a couple of interesting tidbits that happened along the way. 

In 1971, the Pub Landlord built a stage and put out to the press that the pub would host an evening of nude ballet. Not surprisingly, it was a sellout, but ticket holders were less than pleased when they realized that between the audience and the dancers was a misted screen, they couldn't see anything. Hey, all ticket sales are final! 

One famous person associated with the pub during this period was a Musician and Actor that is maybe more known to our British Listeners – Ian Drury. Musically, he is categorized as a punk rocker, but later in life he also acted in films. Ian not only performed at the pub, but he even served for a time as a Barman. Being a Yank, I was not familiar with him, but this point impressed me. In 1977, he had a solo release of a song with a title that can be said to be the first public use of this term, ‘Sex, drugs and rock n’roll.’ Ian is no longer with us, but if I were him, I'd be okay with that being on my tombstone. 

In 1985, the pub was renamed The Stuart Arms, and its rep as a music venue declined by the 1990s. Efforts were in place to restore some of the venue's image by having acoustic nights to showcase emerging talent. A final name change came in 1995 to The Ivy House, taking the Owner’s Mother's first name. 

Okay, on to 2012 and this is where things play out. Kind of like a thriller novel. In January of 2012, with rumors of the pub's demise swirling about the Landlord couple who ran the pub in the 1970s, the Finnermans gave a press interview that sounded the alarm.

It was looking like the pub was going to be sold to Developers and everyone knew what that meant. A pub regular, Neil Pettigrew, sprang into action and through his connections with CAMRA, the pub aficionados organization, an effort was initiated to obtain a Grade II Listing. This is the gold standard for historical preservation in Britain. The pub could not be torn down with a grade two status.

English Heritage the folks who determine the Grade II Listing got on board. But even with fast tracking, Grade II status would likely not be granted for about five months. The pub had to hang on until May on Wednesday, April 18th. The pub's Owner had lined up a Development Buyer and the pub was set to cease operation at the close of business on the following Sunday.

English Heritage was contacted. Could the pub get Grade II Listing before the weekend? Well, the key person to greenlight that was away until Monday. Whew! Things were getting tense as a pub was set to close at the end of the weekend. Friday afternoon at 2:30, Neil Pettigrew's phone rang. None other than the Secretary of State for Digital, Culture, Media and Sport had agreed to intercede and grant the Grade II status.

The pub was saved at the last minute. Shortly thereafter, the Development Buyer withdrew. Bye bye. In the days and weeks that followed, the pub owner and the community began negotiations. By March of the following year, the pub was sold to a community benefit society, funded by grants and issuance of shares to the public. With that, the pub became London's first community owned pub.

There was a grand relaunch in August. The pub today continues to serve as a vibrant community venue, hosting live music, comedy nights and cultural events, sustaining its legacy as a cornerstone of local heritage and community spirit. A happy ending for all. Let me also say that the pride the pub has in its history of overcoming challenges is evident on its website.

I can't think of another pub that does as good a job in displaying its history on its website. Much of what I've talked about here was drawn from that presentation, especially the tense period of 2012 when the pub's fate was totally up in the air. I would also like to compliment all the pub's supporters in banding together. It's tough to be the first to do something, but they did it.

We covered a pub in Hampstead, The Duke of Hamilton, that was saved by community action. The specifics there played out a bit differently, but I would bet the first round that those folks were aware of and inspired by The Ivy House supporters and their accomplishment. 

One last item. If you want to know more about the story of The Ivy House being saved, check out Public House, a 2015 film by Sarah Turner. I have not seen it myself. And just as a heads up, this isn't your typical documentary. Reviewers describe it as an experimental piece that blends interviews, poetry, and even operatic elements to capture the spirit of the community's campaign to save the pub. Rather than a straightforward narrative. It's more of an immersive artistic experience, mirroring the creativity and determination of a locals behind the effort.

The film has been praised for its bold and unconventional approach. A London review is linked in the show notes. It's available on platforms like Vimeo on Demand, so if you're in the mood for something different, a celebration of grassroots action told in a unique style, you might give it a look. 

Okay, up and out. Now we have a bit of a stroll up north for about 20-minutes to our next pub.

The Old Nun’s Head at where else? Nunhead Green, Number 15. If you're put off by the walk, you could wait for a bus that would cut down most of the distance. But come on, let's get some exercise. Along the way, we will pass alongside Peckham Rye Common, a well-loved community park. Besides having history being where lots of cricket was played and thus attracting the likes of Doc Grace, it was supposedly where young William Blake had a celestial encounter. At just eight years old, Blake claimed to have seen,

“A tree filled with angels, bright angelic wings bespangling every bough like stars.” 

This was on one of the long walks he loved to do. When he got back home and told his story, his father was unimpressed, reportedly threatening punish him for lying, but that was forestalled when his mother intervened on the boy's behalf.

This early vision was a harbinger of vivid spiritual imagery that would permeate his later work, such as Songs of Innocence and Songs of Experience. The exact location of this angelic tree remains a mystery lost to time in the evolving landscape of Peckham Rye. However, in 2011, Artist John Hartley, with the support from the Blake Society and the Forestry Commission, planted an oak sapling near the intersection of Peckham Road and Friar Iron Road to commemorate Blake's vision. Today, the tree stands as a living tribute, though to date there have been no reported sightings of angels among its branches. 

In Soho Part Two Episode, we learned that Blake lived there (Soho) specifically on Broad Street for the first 25 years or so of his life. He certainly was living there when he saw the Angel tree at Peckham Common. Now that's over five miles away. For an eight year old child, he certainly was an avid walker. It makes our 20 minutes stroll over to the next pub seem like nothing. 

Not far from our next pub, The Old Nun’s Head, was another pub that I planned to visit, but it apparently has been shut for about several months now. As we walk, let me fill you in on that story. The pub has a great name - The Pyrotechnics Arms. According to CAMRA, it's one of the oldest surviving pubs in Nunhead. The pub goes back to the 1870s and took its name from a fireworks factory nearby. That story is interesting. The company that ran the factory was Brocks Fireworks, which was founded in 1698.

They were the original fireworks company in Britain and have been associated with public fireworks displays going back to the 1740s. In the middle 1800s, their main factory was in Baker Road, Whitechapel. But then tragedy struck. Quoting from their website, the factory was destroyed when,

“A boy who was ramming gunpowder into a firework accidentally created a spark, which ignited the firework. He threw it aside as he ran out in fright. 50 pounds of gunpowder and a large amount of saltpeter exploded, immediately blowing the roof off the building and setting fire to the factory.” 

So, Whitechapel was gone. Brocks needed a new production facility, so they looked to more rural Nunhead. The new factory started up in 1868, and a lot of its production became earmarked for use at The Crystal Palace. Originally built to house The Great Exhibition of 1851, The Crystal Palacewas a shimmering monument to Victorian ingenuity. After The Exhibition, it took on a second life as South London's premiere pleasure grounds. Concerts, exhibitions, balloon ascents, you name it. And perhaps the most dazzling of all were the fireworks. 

Brock's fireworks, already a household name found in the palace grounds, the perfect canvas for their sky bound spectacles. They put on grand themed displays that mixed explosions with drama. Think the Storming of Delhi or the Fall of Sebastopol, all with fireworks, music and theatrical flair. The crowds were enormous. If you are anywhere near South London in the late 19th century, a Brocks display at Crystal Palace was an unmatched, visible night out. It wasn't just a show, it was a local legend.

So it was a natural that after a long day at the fireworks factory, making stuff that would eventually wow the crowds at The Crystal Palace, the lads needed a pint or two. In 1874, about six years after the factory started, up steps the pub with just the right name, The Pyrotechnics Arms. You can see from the difficulty I have pronouncing it, why the fans simply call it The Pyro, and I will too.

And things were good. Brocks made fireworks. The Crystal Palace used them up and The Pyro served lots of beers. Then tragedy struck again. In late November 1936, The Crystal Palace burned to the ground in a spectacular fire whose glow could be seen in eight counties. The fire, of course, didn't take the Brock's factory with it. Brocks was way down in Nunhead, but it might as well have. With its largest customer in ashes, Brocks shut down the plant, but the plucky pub continued on right into recent times. 

It seems one could describe it as a, ‘No frills community boozer,’ no pretenses, just a, ‘What you having, mate’ kind of place. I think it's bits of trivia that add to the charm of any pub. So let me give you a couple of these. 

london.randomness.org.uk reports a recollection of one commentator, 

“This was always The Pyro. I was left outside there occasionally with an arrowroot biscuit and lemonade. An old bloke used to play a mandolin outside and sing rude songs. That was about 1938.”

Good story. Funny to think about a young lad out there waiting for his dad, who had popped in for a quick pint.

Not currently, but for some period in recent times, the pub sign featured images of Guy Fawkes and the other Gunpowder Plot conspirators. Of course, Guy was long gone before the pub was even conceived, but he was a good customer of pyrotechnics. Glad to see the pub appreciated his support of the craft. So that brings us up to the present.

The bar's fixtures date back to a redo in the 1930s. The layout has a feel of a traditional two bar pub open to the side. It's a modest establishment but well-preserved character and it earns local appreciation. The pub is not listed. In other words, it doesn't have Grade II status like The Ivy House received, but it is noted as A neighborhood Heritage Asset for its name and continuity. While not affording protection from demolition. This is more or less a warning sign to developers that this pub will not go down easy. Having this credential also shows that it is beloved by the community. All the more reason why events last fall were shocking. In November 2024, The Pyro suddenly closed. The company that was running it - The Stonegate Group,would not give any details other than that they were looking for new managers.

Now, currently we do not take advertisements at this podcast, but I think this is a special case. Stonegate posted this on their website and we are providing it here as a public service, 

“The Pyrotechnics Arms in Nunhead is a no frills, wet led traditional pub that stands as a proud and unpolished pillar of the local community. If you're after a traditional pub with a strong sense of community and no airs and graces, The Pyrotechnics Arms is the opportunity you might be looking for. Ever dream of being your own boss? Running a thriving pub and shaping a vibrant community hub? Partnering with Stonegate, the UK's largest pub company, makes that dream a reality.”

Okay, anyone out there?

Here's your chance. All right, here we are at The Old Nun’s Head.  We talked about Nunhead  as a name when we started today. Let me say a bit more about the community history. Nunhead had begun its life as a tiny hamlet, just a few houses centered on a pub back in the 1600s. It was little more than a village crossroads near Peckham Rye. A patchwork of cottages, pig farms and market gardens. But as London swirled outward in the 19th century, the railway arrived, the streets filled out and the air got thick with chimney smoke and progress. And then in 1840 they opened the gates to Nunhead Cemetery. That's about a ten-minute walk south from the pub. It's one of London's Magnificent Seven, a group of large Victorian cemeteries built to ease pressure on overcrowded parish graveyards.

It was laid out as a landscaped gardens cemetery, more park than plot, with sweeping views towards central London and wide paths lined with trees and grand monuments. It quickly became a fashionable place to be buried, especially for South London's middle and upper classes. Over time, some areas fell into disrepair, but that only added to its quiet, atmospheric charm. Today, it's both a nature reserve and a historic site with volunteers helping to preserve the older tombs and chapels. The  graves are said to be an egalitarian mix of notables and ordinary folks - railway engineers, artists, publicans and everyday Londoners all sharing the same peaceful ground. 

By the turn of the 20th century, Nunhead had a distinctive working class character. Railmen, Printers, Bus Drivers. Thomas Tilling even started his horse drawn omnibus empire here – giving Londoners their first taste of public transport on the cheap. Wartime brought bombs and broken glass but the postwar years patched things up, if a bit unevenly. Today it's a mix of Victorian terraces, rising artists and treasured local pubs. You, dear Listeners, well know that I think that every pub has its own claim to uniqueness. And I think The Old Nun’s Head’s claim is that it is one of the pubs that has been in service here, using some variation of the Nun Head name for over 400 years, and even inspiring the name of the area around it.

By the 1700s, the pub was more than just a drinking hole. It had a skittle alley, room for dancing and rather fashionable for its time, its own tea gardens. These were suburban offshoots of the big London pleasure gardens, like Vauxhall, places where you take your tea with a side of gossip, music and perhaps a touch of mischief. Though some tea gardens earned a saucy reputation, there's no suggestion that Nunhead’s version was anything but proper. Maybe the name inspired a bit of moral correctness. We wouldn't want any nun's heads turning and catching us doing something improper. 

The Publican during the middle of the 19th century was a woman, Sarah Dyer. I love pubs for their record of forward thinking. Female Landlords, even if in a minority, were certainly not unusual throughout the country at this time. Women didn't get the vote in Britain until the 20th century, but some women had the real power long before that. They ran the pubs. The original pub or maybe pubs have long since been replaced. The present Tudor style building dates from 1934 and was closed for several years at the start of the 21st century. It reopened in 2007 with an attractive wooden interior, good selection of ales, and organic food and wine on the menu.

Interesting bit of trivia. The pub was part of The Wenlock Group in the 1930s. We talked about the Wenlock Brewery and its interesting history in our themed Episode - Pubs Versus the Wrecking Ball.Any famous folks associated with the pub? Well, I'm glad you asked. There are two, but linking to the pub requires that we make a couple of what I might term assumptive jumps.

Here's the first one. Charles Dickens kept a secret house for Ellen Ternan a block away at 31 Linden Grove in 1860s. Dickens and Ellen had a long, secretive and likely romantic relationship. Dickens, a married man, met Ternan in 1857 when he hired her as an Actress for his play The Frozen Date. Their relationship continued for the next 13 years, until Dickens's death in 1870. Evidence suggests that they were lovers, although their relationship was kept hidden from public eye. Putting the question of the nature of their relationship aside, it doesn't seem to be in dispute that Dickens frequently visited her there on Linden Grove, slipping in and out of Nunhead incognito. So assumptive jump number one, given that all Charlie visited the area frequently and is known for a fondness of pubs, he had to have popped in at least a time or two.

Verdict? Easy proof. QED. By the way, during Dickens's time, the pub was known as just Nun's Head. The Old became a part of the name in 1905. 

The second assumptive jump. Poet John Donne, who lived from 1572 to 1631, was known to visit the area, then a rural retreat. Assumptive jump number two. Donne was a guy who wrote, 

“No man is an island entire of itself.”

What better line to pursue a suggestion, ‘Hey, let's go to the pub!’ Verdict? Ahhh, it's a stretch that John saw the inside of the pub, but it does seem a bit more plausible somewhere into the second pint. 

Then there's a true crime story associated with the pub, but spoiler alert it's not much of one. The South London press ran this headline on April 26th, 1912, 

“Nunhead Schoolgirl’s Escapade. Publican’s daughter's trip to Southend on stolen coppers.”

Side note. The records show that Edward, Hazel and his wife had been running The Old Nun’s Head for about four years at this point. The article continues, 

“In the Children's Court, 12 year old Nellie Hazel was charged by her mother with stealing 20 shillings in coppers from the bar. Mrs. Hazel stated that on April 15th, she missed four bags of coppers from the bar, and on the same day Nellie did not return home from school. On Saturday, she heard that Nellie had given herself up at Southend on Sea.” 

A few weeks previously, she had apparently taken a trip to Hastings in the same way. The consequences for Nellie were serious. The magistrate recommended that she be remanded with a view to the girl's committal to a school.

Well, hopefully Nellie and her parents worked things out. The Hazels continued to run the pub into the 1920s, or even a bit later. Today, all seems to be going well for The Old Nun’s Head. designmynight.com says, 

“The Old Nun’s Head is a family pub in London nestled in the leafy green streets of Nunhead close to Peckham Rye Station. For the perfect taste of village life in the heart of south London, The Old Nun’s Head is simply idyllic. Despite its vast size, the historic building is as cozy as its beautiful, with paneled walls, working fireplaces and, of course, a friendly, welcoming bar.”

Thanks. Good write up. There are lots of other good reviews on Yelp and other sites affirming the pub's friendliness and community involvement. It looks like a good place to pop in if you're down around Peckham or Nunhead.

And that brings us to the end of another episode. But wait, I know you're thinking, what about those other great pubs toward Peckham? Quite right. There's more to explore, and I've no doubt we'll be back for a second round in this neck of the woods, so stay tuned. In the meantime, check out our brand new website historiclondonpubcast.com. You'll find maps, extras, and a few surprises and don’t forget to subscribe wherever you get your podcasts so you won’t miss what’s next.  Until then, Cheers!