Tower Bridge

There is an urban myth that the guy who bought London Bridge back in 1968 thought that he was really getting the distinctive Victorian mock-Gothic bridge that spans the Thames just by the Tower of London. Sadly, it is just a myth. Ever since the version that had all the houses and chapels (and the heads of executed traitors on spikes) on it, London Bridge has been a bit aesthetically boring.
Tower Bridge, built between 1886 and 1894, has also had its fair share of critics - who hated the "mockness" of it.
In the late Victorian period, it was realised that London needed a new bridge to the east of the City. There was a foot tunnel just to the east, but this wasn't sufficient for the needs of the growing dock district.
A competition was held for architects to submit designs - the only real stipulation being that the structure had to admit tall masted vessels to pass through to the Pool of London (the area up river). Very tall bridges were proposed, and swing ones, but eventually one that opened up in the middle was chosen. This caused some controversy, as the designer just happened to be one of the competition judges - Sir Horace Jones. He was chief architect for the City of London.
Sadly, he died before seeing his bridge completed. The bridge was officially opened on 30th June, 1894, by the then Prince of Wales (the future Edward VII).

It is a combined suspension and bascule bridge - the suspensions being the spans on the landward sides. Two steam engines powered the opening mechanisms, with a third being added during the Second World War as a back-up in case the bridge was targeted in a bombing raid. The bridge now hosts an exhibition, where you can see these. Recently, the exhibition added the further attraction of a glass floored section on the high walkways. Unfortunately, within a few days of opening, someone dropped a beer bottle and the supposedly reinforced glass cracked - so I advise caution should you choose to cross...

The openings and closings had to be covered by a complex set of visual and aural signals - both for the traffic on the road and for the vessels that were to pass through. Remember that for many years London suffered from what were known as "pea-soupers" - dense fogs which were a combination of meteorological and pollution effects. These days, if you want the bridge raised, you have to give 24 hours notice.
The central sections only rise as far as is needed for the particular vessel to pass through. If you happen to be the reigning monarch, however, the sections will rise to their fullest extent - no matter what size of craft they are in. The bridge would open to is fullest extent if Her Majesty were to go through in a pedalo, in other words.
The river traffic gets priority at all times, irrespective of road users. In 1997, US President Bill Clinton had his motorcade split in half when the bridge opened. Naturally, the chaps with the stony expressions, regulation dark glasses, and the little wires in their ears were not amused.

The bridge raises at 3.30pm on Sunday, 6th June 2015, to admit a tall masted sailing ship. This was exactly on schedule.

At least Clinton's driver didn't have to do what bus driver Albert Gunter had to do, back in 1952. His double-decker found itself on the bridge as it was opening. He accelerated and the bus leapt a three foot gap. Might not sound like much, but double-deckers are really not supposed to do that sort of thing. He was awarded a whole £10 pounds for his quick thinking.
On a couple of occasions pilots have flown through the gap between the road level and the high walkways without permission. One RAF pilot who did this in a Hawker Hunter was thrown out of the force, denied the opportunity to represent himself at his court martial. Another pilot, of a light aircraft, did the same thing in 1973, but he then flew up to the Lake District where he deliberately crashed and killed himself.
Originally, the metal work on the bridge was a greenish colour (it is now light blue). Back in 1977, for the Queen's Silver Jubilee, it was painted red, white and blue.
The southern approach to the bridge, in Southwark, was Horsleydown Lane. This was widened and is now called Tower Bridge Approach. The road is a major one - part of London's Inner Ring Road - so any prolonged closure causes considerable disruption and congestion. In 2003, a campaigner from Justice 4 Fathers, dressed as Spider-Man, climbed onto the walkway, and the bridge had to be closed for a whole 5 days.

The House by the Thames

Sandwiched between Shakespeare's Globe and Tate Modern, on a stretch of river front known as Cardinal's Wharf, sit three rare survivors of 18th Century architecture in Bankside, Southwark. One of the houses - the tall white one - has even had a whole book written about it: The House By The Thames, by Gillian Tindall (p/b edition Random House 2007). The book doesn't just deal with the occupants of the house, it covers the whole history of this part of London. Much of it deals with the Watermen - the black cab drivers of their day. Before the river was embanked, there were numerous water stairs along it. Some survive, even if only in name. At each, Watermen would be waiting to ferry passengers either along the river or, more likely, across it. Remember that for much of its history London only had one bridge across the Thames.
The house in question is No.49. There is a plaque on the wall which claims that Sir Christopher Wren lived here whilst St Paul's Cathedral - directly opposite on the north side of the river - was being rebuilt following the Great Fire. The plaque also claims that Catherine of Aragon sheltered here on first arriving in London in 1502.
Sadly, neither event can be substantiated. No.49 was built around 1710, when St Paul's was finished, so Wren could not have been living there during the works. He did stay in the area - probably in a house that would have sat where Tate Modern now stands. When that house was demolished, a plaque was fixed to a wall near the then power station. The plaque was subsequently lost, and the one on the front of No.49 was made up in the mid 20th Century. Catherine of Aragon may well have first come ashore here or hereabouts, but this sounds unlikely. There are more likely places along the Thames than this.

The middle house, (No.51) with the yellow door, has a hanging sign describing it as The Deanery. This would refer to it belonging to the Dean of Southwark Cathedral - the church of Saint Mary Overy or St Saviour's as it has been known variously over the centuries - I'll be posting on it soon. The house is also known as the Provost's Lodgings. It was built in 1712. The Cathedral put it up for sale in 2011, with an asking price of £6 million. It is a prime location after all... It wasn't always so. The basement of No.49 used to be infested with rats, and the power station emitted a constant humming noise. The third house in the row (No. 52, closest to Tate Modern) is actually not a separate dwelling - it and No.51 were turned into a single house in 1957.
The Dean of Southwark used to complain that he had a perfect view - of the wrong cathedral.

In between No's 49 and 51 is the entrance to Cardinal Cap Alley. This is no longer a public thoroughfare, although this has been contested over the years. The Cardinal's Cap was a pub on the site of No.49, which gets a mention in Shakespeare's Henry VI Part 2. This area was notorious for its brothels, or stews - see my earlier post about the "Winchester Geese".
Just to the right of this row, where Tate Modern now stands, would have been the home of Philip Henslowe, owner of the Rose Theatre who staged many of Shakespeare's plays. He is buried in Southwark Cathedral (as is Shakespeare's brother Edmund - also an actor, died on New Year's Eve 1607).
Of course the current Globe Theatre is not built on the exact site of its earlier incarnation. There was a Globe Alley (later Globe Court) marked on maps a little further to the east and well back from the river. Behind these houses lies the site of another form of popular entertainment of yesteryear - bear baiting pits. Henslowe invested in these as well.

We all know that the Tate Modern art gallery is housed in an old power station. Before this was built, the site belonged to the Phoenix Gas Works. Go further back to the 1700's, when these houses were still new, and there was a park called Pye Garden, as well as a glass-making factory.

The George Inn, Southwark.

The only surviving galleried coaching inn left in London. (There is a modern reconstruction at St. Katherine's Dock by the Tower). These establishments, usually consisting of three ranges of buildings - one of which was the stable-block - were once huddled along all of the main routes in and out of London. The George served travellers between London and Kent and the south coast.
I will let the sign on the gate, just off Borough High Street (east side), explain the details.

There are a number of yards along this stretch of road whose names hint at other similar inns now long gone - White Hart, Tabard, King's Head and Mermaid - all within a few hundred yards of each other. Bishopsgate (near Liverpool Street Station) had a similar stretch of coaching inns - some also frequented by Shakespeare when he travelled between Stratford and London.
In the same vicinity as The George, on Newcomen Street there is a fine old Victorian pub called The King's Arms. The current building of 1890 replaced an earlier one dating from 1760. George III's arms are above the door. That's the monarch who, in his diary for 4th July 1776, wrote "Nothing important happened today"...

The White Hart in Southwark gets a mention in Henry VI - Part 2, as it was used as a base by Jack Cade - leader of the Kentish rebels in 1450, during the period known as the Wars of the Roses. Cade's rebellion was crushed and he fled to the south coast. He was mortally wounded during his capture at Lewes, Sussex, and died before he could be put on trial back in London. His corpse still underwent the traditional penalty for traitors - being hung, drawn and quartered.

The White Hart. The George would have had a similar layout.

In the days when Highwaymen were common, individual travellers would gather at coaching inns in order to then travel on in a group, often with an armed escort. Highwaymen do still exist today, though they are now called Traffic Wardens.
Another view of The George - taken before I went inside to check out the quality of their ales...