Ep 44 Clerkenwell - Farringon & Smithfield Market Historic Pubs

In this episode, we start in Clerkenwell, known for its revolutionary past, and visit The Crown Tavern.  Then on toward Smithfield Market stopping at The Castle, The Three Compassas and finally The Hope

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Google map with pubs covered in previous episodes pinned, courtesy of Andy Meddick:

https://www.google.com/maps/d/u/0/edit?mid=1xXDGJSfJIUy2gw_6uCASi-C45FpOg_M&usp=sharing

Or TinyURL:  https://tinyurl.com/4xhc8w2s

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://pubwiki.co.uk/
• https://camra.org.uk/

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

Clerkenwell & Merlin’s Cave

https://www.londonloveaffair.com/blogs/a-historical-pub-crawl#:~:text=The%20Clerk's%20Well,the%20capital's%20highest%20murder%20rates.

https://clerkenwellgreen.org.uk/history-summary/

https://www.ec1echo.co.uk/the-roving-pub-that-is-no-more/

Three Compassas & Cowcross Street

https://www.mykindoftown.co.uk/blog/2022/08/01/cowcross-street/

https://www.theguardian.com/food/2023/jan/15/bouchon-racine-london-i-am-a-huge-dribbling-admirer-restaurant-review

https://www.pubsgalore.co.uk/pubs/23372/ 

Dictionary of Pub Names ISBN 1840222662

The Hope

https://historicengland.org.uk/listing/the-list/list-entry/1293085?section=official-list-entry

https://www.thepeoplespub.co.uk/hope-smithfield

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 Podcast. 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're going to start our journey up in Clerkenwell and work our way down to Smithfield. There is lots of history here which spills over into the pubs. We've been in this area before and we checked out Ye Old Mitre and The Holy Tavern in Episode Six. But there are other interesting places around as well. So, let's get started.

As we approach our first establishment, let's talk a little bit about the history of the area, Clerkenwell. It emerged in the 14th century as a separate village on the edge of the City of London, shaped by a network of religious houses and anchored by the River Fleet, which linked it both to The Thames and to nearby villages. Its name comes from the Clerks Well, with the first word Clerk, from the medieval cleric or literate person, in reference to the parish clerks gathered here to perform mystery plays in the Middle Ages. Think open air theater with a sacred twist. Biblical stories perform for crowds eager for both salvation and spectacle. 

The area was also known as a modest resort town for weary Londoners. Spa springs, tea gardens and the occasional shady theater made Clerkenwell a place to escape the noise without leaving the city behind. It became a hub for religious orders, most notably the powerful Knights Hospitaller,whose Priory of Saint John made Clerkenwell their English headquarters. It was a place of devotion and power and leisure, but uneasy lies the head that wears the mitre. 

In 1381, during the Peasants Revolt, rebel leader Wat Tyler paused here long enough to behead the Prior of the Knights Hospitaller. A symbolic blow to the religious and political elite. That act set a tone in the centuries that followed, as the religious orders faded and craftsmen, artisans and refugees arrived, many populist and liberal leanings, Clerkenwell began to shift into a hotbed of dissent, trade and skilled independence. 

It started with the French Huguenots, 17th century Protestant refugees who fled persecution and brought with them not just silk and silver work, but a fierce belief in conscience and craft. Their legacy still lingers in Clerkenwell’s artisan shops, but it also helped spark something louder. By the 18th century, the Clerkenwell Green had become a platform for public protest. In 1780 it exploded. Gordon Rioters broke into Bridewell Prison, freeing inmates as part of a wave of anti-Catholic fury. That same mob even pushed north to Hampstead, where, as we covered in Episode 28, they were famously pacified by rounds of free beer from the landlord of The Spaniard's Inn and the butler of the house they'd come to burn. But perhaps the most symbolic watering hole in this radical tradition was Merlin's Cave, a pub just off of what is now Wilmington Square.

The original tavern dates back to at least 1720, possibly earlier, sitting near a spring fed garden path. Some say it was named after the legendary wizard. Others think it simply followed the mid-18th century fashion for calling anything fanciful Merlin's Cave - inspired by Queen Charlotte's decorative grotto at Kew. Either way, it became a gathering point for radicals, especially during the rallies of 1816 and 17, when thousands met to demand real parliamentary reform.

On one such day, firebrand speaker Henry Hunt waved a red, white and green tricolor, the would-be flag of the British Republic, from an upstairs window of the pub. Below, crowds surged. Another Orator, Doctor Watson, riled them further, 

“If I jump down, will you follow?”

He cried. 

They did, storming a gunsmiths, attempting to seize the Tower of London and clashing with soldiers at Holborn Bridge.

So, what did Hunt and his allies actually want? In short, democracy with teeth. Universal male suffrage, annual parliaments, secret ballots. Rights we now take for granted were then out of reach for working class men. Alongside Hunt stood William Cobbett, the radical journalist and later the Chartist who carried the baton into the 1830s and 40s. Clerkenwell Green became one of the strongholds. Thousands met here, petitioned Parliament and marched for what became known as The People's Charter. You know, all those folks had to be good business for Merlin's Cave. These just weren't isolated flare ups. They were part of a continuum. In 1866, over 4000 people met again on the green to debate Gladstone's Reform Bill. This wasn't just about tweaking the vote. It was about widening the franchise to include working class men, especially in industrial towns. 

Gladstone Owens’ cautious progress earned him both admirers and imitators. He's even been honored with a pub in his name, a Southwark spot we covered in Episode 40. And what of Merlin's Cave? Like many things in Clerkenwell, it came and went, but never quietly. The original site became housing by the 1840s, and a new Merlin's Cave was built nearby. By the 1960s, it evolved into a hub for jazz and protest music, hosting everyone from George Melly to Billy Bragg. Even when politics shifted, the Cave kept its voice. The new Merlin's Cave closed in 1996, but if you pass Merlin Street or spot the faded letters of Merlin’s Place, you're walking through a spot where both music and revolution once echoed.

So, if you're all fired up by Clerkenwell’s revolutionary past, I bet you're thirsty for a pint. I can't take you to Merlin's cave, but I can take you to a pub that's still going strong with a sound revolutionary backstory of its own - The Crown Tavern. This pub, given its location, has seen quite a bit of revolt discussed within its walls. It claims that a pub was established here in 1641. The records I can find go back to 1771, where it was somehow a meeting place for the Masonic Jerusalem Lodge. I guess it could do that and be a pub too. Most sources agree that a rebuild was done in 1815. The street addresses of old might indicate that the pub was larger in the past. 

Although it was written a couple of decades ago, I think Ted Bruning’s description of the pub in his book London By Pub is still the best around,

“It’s still rather a splendid pub, a handsome classic building with late Victorian fascia of wood and emerald green tiles tacked on. Inside is broken up into smartly furnished alcoves and niches, all hung around with sepia photos and old prints. Not much of the old interior left, though. There is a dark encrusted ceiling and there are stubs of turn-of-the-century partitions, but alas, the original glass is long gone. Also long gone is the huge collection of clocks which gave The Crown its old nickname, The Clock House. Very apt in this watchmaking district. Only one left, hanging in a side room. A big London's old black Japaned affair.”

Side note I think that means an old fashioned black lacquered clock. 

“It claims to have been the very clock that hung in Rye House, where allegedly a biggish plot was hatched to assassinate Charles II. Someone at some time has painted, “The Conspirators Clock” in gold on it, although how this rates as a seal of authenticity, I don't know.”

Okay, let me jump in here a bit. The Crown Tavern has some history that maybe is best put in the legends basket. Ted seemed skeptical, but the clock, genuine or not, is in keeping with the revolutionary vibe of the area. The Rye House Plot he mentioned was a botched 1683 conspiracy to assassinate King Charles II and his brother James, the Duke of York, England's Catholic heir apparent.

The plan was simple but sinister. Ambush the royal brothers as they return from the races at Newmarket, near a country house called Rye House. But fate had other plans. Racing was canceled due to a fire. The royal party returned early, spoiling the ambush. The plot unraveled soon after, leading to a wave of arrests, trials and executions. Some of the accused were genuinely involved.

Others likely caught in the political crossfire of a jittery government. The plot's failure added fuel to the already simmering tensions over royal succession and religious divisions, helping to set the stage for The Glorious Revolution a few years later that sent James into exile. Now back to Ted's write up. He was able to visit the pubs upstairs, which is now reserved for special bookings. I have never been up there, but Ted evidently asked nicely and got a tour of both the upstairs and the subterranean, he continues, 

“As well as its clocks, The Crown was known for its dances. Upstairs is the Apollo Room, which in Victorian days hosted concerts and dances. A bill from 1841 for a program of songs and quadrilles promises, “A variety of dancing during which no delay is experienced.” Also on display or pair of tickets found under some floorboards to a Grand Bohemian concert given on the 23rd of March 1896. For the benefit of the widow of Thomas Byford, who, “Dropped down dead while going to work, leaving her totally unprovided for.”  A very nice barmaid showed me a section of ancient brick wine tunnel hung with little stalactites, uncovered when the cellars were cleared out and said to connect the Sessions House across the green, once a Courthouse, now a Masonic Hall, to the old prison and supposedly used for escorting convicts back to jail without risk of a rescue attempt.” 

Okay. Thank you, Ted, but wait, there's still another legend that Lenin and Stalin met in the pub in the early 1900s. Well, let's start with the facts and see how far that takes us. At this time, London offered a unique combination for revolutionaries, a major European city with a relatively tolerant attitude toward political dissent and access to printing presses, postal services and safe houses - all stuff needed by up-and-coming radicals. Vladimir Lenin lived in London for stretches in 1902 and 1903 and worked over at 37A Clerkenwell Green while editing and printing a revolutionary newspaper. 

So, this pub was his local. And finally, the Second Congress of the Russian Social Democratic Labor Party met in 1903, in London, and it's reported that Stalin attended. But details are thin. 

So that's the facts. Do you think that is too much of a leap to think that Joe met Vlad after work one day, and they went to the closest pub to talk about world shaking events? I will leave that conclusion to you. 

Okay, that does it for The Crown Tavern. Let's head out the next piece of history. It's just steps away from the pub door. At 37A Clerkenwell Green is the Karl Marx Memorial Library.The library in this building was established in 1933, but the structure itself goes back to 1737. It once housed the Welsh Charity School, but is more well known as formerly the home to many radical organizations and a base of an important left leaning publishing operation.

The building is Grade II listed, and the library's collection comprises over 60,000 books, pamphlets, items, and newspapers on Marxism, socialism, and working-class history. I can't find anything that says that Marx was actually here, but we know Lenin was. He published 17 issues of his newspaper, Iskra, which means spark. Working from this building. 

Okay, onward toward Farringdon Street to a pub that is right outside of the station exit just across the street. This is The Castle,34 - 35 Cowcross Street. This place goes back a while. A map of 1682 shows a Castle Inne. The last word is spelled I n n e, but from there it might have experienced some ups and downs. From Pubwikiwe learn,

“There is no listing of this pub in Cowcross Street for some period of time, from 1840 until about 1869, but from therefore it's firmly entrenched in the records.”

Other sources say a rebuild was done in 1865, so maybe all of this means that the pub fell upon hard times for a while, but was brought back from the brink by the rebuild. The name of the pub possibly refers to the Castle Barnard, a now lost nearby medieval riverside fortress once owned by the powerful Barnard family, though others suggest a more generic royal branding.

Maybe the folks supporting the latter origin theory are right. There are about 70 pubs in the UK named The Castle, and eight of them in London. This is a Grade II listed building. The 1865 rebuild gave it a Victorian Italianate style with red brick and stone dressings. Inside you'll find traditional fittings like wood paneling and etched glass. A grand bar, back mirrors and heavy cornices give a traditional but comfortable Victorian look.

It is said that the pub had a reputation among Drovers and market workers from Smithfield Market, and it features in the local lore as a place where pickpockets and pugilists once mixed. But now on to the big legend associated with The Castle. Here is basically the most common version. 

In the early 1800s, the royal who would eventually become King George IV, was still the Prince Regent. He was known for being quite a lively lad with an extravagant style, a bad gambling habit, and a fondness for slumming it among the common folk when the mood struck. One night it was said he found himself gambling either upstairs at a private club or nearby, and he ran out of money. The landlord of The Castle loaned him money, and the Prince left his gold pocket watch as security. The next day, a royal aide was dispatched to the pub to repay the loan and get the watch back, I presume. He also gave the landlord a formal pawnbroker's license as a gesture of gratitude. 

Some versions of this story have the Prince visiting The Castle multiple times, as it was close to Smithfield Market, which had its own underground gambling and rough nightlife scene.

The most lasting invisible remnant is the set of three golden balls over the door - the traditional symbol of pawn brokering. They are locally famous and are often pointed out on the walking tours. Like the Stalin-Lenin meeting of the last pub, there doesn't seem to be any hard evidence. No license survives in the public records, but it is consistent with the personality of George IV – bad with money and one who enjoyed theatrical gestures. Also, it makes a darn good pub story. Another one I will leave to your judgment. 

Okay, let's head down Cowcross Street to our next pub. Frequent listeners know that I always ask, hey, what's with the name? This time is no different. mykindoftown.co.ukis a well-done blog site authored by John Keller, a fellow with a passion for history of this area. He answers that question this way, 

“Cowcross Street was known as Cow Cross, two words until the end of the 18th century. You would think that Cow Cross got its name from cows crossing the street on their way to Smithfield Market, but that wasn't it at all. There used to be a large cross, like a big site set up to where Saint John Street and Cow Cross Street meet. This was a sign for the Smithfield Cow Market, which was a separate market from the main Smithfield market, which traded in other livestock and horses. The Cow Market cross gave Cow Cross and eventually Cow Cross Street their names.”

We barely had time to get that out and voila, we're at the next pub - The Three Compasses at 66 Cowcross Street. This little pub has been around since 1723, and it is a survivor. The pub has had the same name as far back as I can find records. That's back to 1827. The name is from the Coat of Arms of the Trade Guilds. Compasses appear on the Arms of the Joiners, the Masons and the Carpenters, but three compasses on one sign indicates a specific reference to The Carpenters. That guild or livery company as guilds were called, was officially. “The Worshipful Company of Carpenters,” and was around as far back as 1271.

It received a Royal Charter of Incorporation in 1477, and still exists today as, “The Carpenter's Company.” Type in, “Worshipful Company of Carpenters” into Google Images, and you will see symbols displaying the three compasses. Given that the pub was so close to Smithfield Market, a key component of the agriculture trade, it's interesting that it should take the name related to the building industry.

Well, that decision was made more than two centuries ago, a little before my time. So, I'll defer to their judgment, and I will give them credit for keeping the original name all along. The pub building took some damage in World War II. When it was rebuilt in the 1950s, when it was part of the Truman Brewery Group.The entire building was set back a few feet from the line of buildings on either side, but sometime in the 1980s, just the bottom floor got extended to put it in line with its neighbors. The upper floor is still back a bit, even though a small pub, there was live music in the 1990s. Not sure that that's the case today. The rumbling new tubes from the revised Farringdon Station may have interfered with that. But with or without tunes, today's pub is still going. Reviewers remark on the dark, cavernous interior, but lots of folks like that atmosphere, like me. And if not, maybe there's still a way forward to your heart through your stomach. The second floor is now Bouchon Racine, a French restaurant run by a couple of industry veterans. The food critic for The Guardian newspaper went gaga over the place. The full review is linked in the notes. He said, 

“This classic bistro offers a master class in French cooking,”

and,

“I am a huge dribbling admirer.”

I'm certainly going to check The Three Compasses out next time I’m on Cowcross Street. 

Our last pub is right across from Smithfield Market. As we walk over to it, let's talk a little bit about the market itself - a place that’s been operating for about 850 years. Smithfield Market in London traces its origin back to the 10th century, when it began as an open field just outside the city walls. A place for livestock trading, horse fairs and later public executions. It became synonymous with, 

“The noisy, muddy commerce of meat.” 

By the end of the 12th century, Smithfield was the city's principal livestock market. That changed in 1855, when the live animal trade was moved to Islington, and Smithfield was reimagined as a wholesale meat market. The striking Victorian halls that still stand today opened in 1868, designed by Sir Horace Jones with underground railway sidings and hydraulic lifts, hallmarks of an industry efficiency that made it one of the world's most advanced meat markets. 

Sir Horace had quite a career and a big impact on London. He designed Tower Bridge and not only Smithfield Market, but also Leadenhall Market and Billingsgate Market. Amazingly, he doesn't have a pub named after him. What an oversight! It's kind of like all those years when Deep Purple wasn't in The Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. That mistake got corrected, and maybe that will be the case in the future for Sir Horace as well. I hope so. 

Back to Smithfield. In its modern form, the market has continued to operate nightly, not with a herd of animals, but with refrigerated lorries hauling in carcasses and pre butchered meat. Traders, some of whose families have worked in the market for generations cut and sell beef, lamb, pork and poultry to butchers, restaurants and caterers across London. The old spirit remains. Cleavers ring out under the iron arches, meat glides along overhead rails and boxes are wheeled across stone floors by Porters known as Bumblebees. Though its role has diminished in an age of supermarkets and central distribution, Smithfield remains a vital link for independent traders and a slice of working-class tradition embedded in the city's commercial DNA. But that legacy is nearing its end. In November 2024, the City of London Corporation scrapped its long-planned move of Smithfield and Billingsgate, the fish market, to a consolidated site about 13 miles east at Dagenham Dock. The reason? Spiraling costs. Instead, it announces Smithfield would just close entirely by 2028, ending nearly 1000 years of continuous trade. While some market buildings will be repurposed, most noticeably by the Museum of London, wholesale meat trade at Smithfield will come to an end. For now, the nightly rhythm continues, tinged with a growing sense of farewell. 

Okay, now we have arrived at our pub, The Hope, the next to the last building on Cowcross Street before it runs into the market. 

Pubwiki tells us that it was established in the 1790s, built as an inn during the days between the medieval and modern Smithfield Market, in a location which was then parkland. It is alleged that the pub was erected over The Path of Hope, leading to a sanctuary church which condemned prisoners from Newgate Prison were led if they received a last-minute reprieve. It was rebuilt in the second half of the 1800s to what we have today, and was very popular with the Smithfield Market crowd, serving many meat porters, butchers and dealers associated with the market. It became known for its early license hours. Those hard-working blokes finished up their overnight shifts and they could get a bit of refreshment, even if it was just 7 am. 

The Hope is Grade II listed. The folks that do that, Historic England, provide a very detailed description of the building's features as part of the documentation accompanying a grade two application. Unpacking from that rather dense treatment, we can say, 

“This four-story corner pub still shows off much of its original flair. The standout feature is beautifully recessed wooden and glass frontage. Look for the curved bay window with this faceted glass arch saloon and public bar doors. and Queensland style woodwork. The base is black polished granite topped with ornamental brackets and a grand cornice. Upper floors have arched brick arcades, decorative stonework, and even caustic tile bands at the third level. Inside you'll still find the original bar front and a stretch of molded tiled Dado topped with decorative mirror panels - surviving touches of Victorian pub elegance.”

They no longer keep early morning hours. From their websitethey seem now to cater to sports enthusiasts. But even if you are not a sports fan or an overnight porter, they still want to be, 

“Your local in Farringdon.”

A great objective. 

Well, that's our journey for today from Farringdon right up to the edge of Smithfield. Check out these great pubs when you have time. 

I hope you enjoyed our adventure today. If you've got thoughts, stories or a favorite corner pub we've missed, drop us a line. Just click the email link in the show notes hosteric@historiclondonpubcast.com 

You'll also find maps, transcripts and extras over at our website historiclondonpubcast.com

Thanks so much for listening and if you haven't already, follow us, subscribe so you don't miss what's coming next. Because remember, 

“Every pub tells a story, if you know where to look.”

Cheers!