Tagged: facade
On Christmas Day in the Morning
25 Dec 2020
A Christmas Day walk with my friends Sarah and Vik, taking in the shipwrecked Shadow and a hilly chunk of Leigh Woods.
I went to have a peep at the giant sinkhole that's opened up in Canynge Square—ironically, having recently discovered the gardens were public I'd had the (triangular!) square on my list to re-visit for a few days, but now there's no entrance to the gardens due to the danger. The area was well fenced-off for safety, but I tried to get a couple of photos from behind the barriers.
I also explored the area around Camp Road, an real melange of architectures, one of the most mixed-up areas I've seen in Clifton, in fact, and confirmed my friend Claire's suspicion that an earlier snap of a sign from Manilla Road was in fact for a fire hydrant. Nice.
Nice top to the turret on the corner of this house on the end of Mortimer Road. Anywhere else, you'd expect it to be listed, I'd've thought...
Saint Vincent's Spring
28 Dec 2020
Fractionally outside my one-mile zone, but I got curious about Saint Vincent's spring, whose last remnants you can see in a defunct drinking fountain on the Portway. Along the way I passed Gyston's cave, sometimes called St Vincent's cave, in the sheer wall of the gorge. It's now accessible by a tunnel from the observatory—I tried it about twenty years ago, I think, and still recall the vertiginous moment of looking down from the protruding balcony and realising that you could see straight through the grille floor to the drop below—but from what I can work out the tunnel is relatively recent. Before the tunnel was dug it was accessible only by access across the cliff face, which must have been even more terrifying.
This cave was first mentioned as being a chapel in the year AD 305 and excavations, in which Romano-British pottery has been found, have revealed that it has been both a holy place and a place of refuge at various times in its history.
A few different sources say that the cave became a hermitage and chapel to St Vincent following Bristol's early trading in Iberian wines; St Vincent of Saragossa is Lisbon's patron saint, and a lot of nearby things bear the name.
I'm not sure where the crossover of Vincent and Ghyston happens, though. On the giants Goram and Vincent (or Ghyston), Wikipedia says:
The name Vincent for one of the giants rests on the fact that at Clifton, at the narrowest point of the Avon Gorge, there was formerly an ancient hermitage and chapel dedicated to St Vincent, at or near the present cave in the cliff-face which bears his name. Another (apparently modern) version of the story calls the Clifton giant Ghyston, which is in fact the name, of obscure origin, for the whole of the cliff-face of the Avon Gorge at least as early as the mid-fifteenth century, in the detailed description of the Bristol area by William Worcestre. The place-name was personified to produce the giant's name. Vincent's Cave is called Ghyston cave or The Giant’s Hole in an article in the July 1837 issue of Felix Farley’s Bristol Journal.
In my research on the original Hot Well House, I've seen quite a few contemporary paintings which state their viewpoint as "from St. Vincent's Rock", so in the 16th century it seems the cliff-face name was typically St Vincent Rock rather than Ghyston's Rock, perhaps.
I am, as you can tell, no historian!
On the way, I also wandered around the base of the popular climbing area, which I think is the site of the old Black Rock quarry.
My historical research took a wander underground recently, partly inspired by the Canynge Square sinkhole, partly by St Vincent's (Ghyston's) cave and its tunnel to the Observatory, and I was surprised to find that there might be an intact tunnel from the Bristol Port Railway and Pier still just sitting there under Bridge Valley Road. A quick search turned up this recent video by an intrepid explorer, so it's definitely still there.
I went looking for the entrances today, and definitely found the south entrance, at the start of the Bridge Valley Path, the footpath that starts with steps at the bottom of Bridge Valley Road. It's easy to miss if you're not looking for it. I think I've figured out where the north entrance is, too, but it was getting dark at that stage and the Portway was still busy enough that crossing the road was still the normal nuisance, so I thought I'd leave further explorations for another day.
You can see a drawing of its better days here; "in 1946, the cast-iron pump was removed to the Underfall Yard of Bristol City Docks, and in 1961 there were reports that it had been donated to the City Museum."
Up until
I'm not sure I knew until today's wander that the Bridge Valley Path exited almost opposite the Society of Merchant Ventuers' clubhouse.
A fragment from Horace's Odes: "not taught to suffer poverty."
Wikipedia says that the defunct Bristol magazine Venue once did a bit of investigative journalism on them:
Venue claimed that the Merchant Venturers control 12 charities and 40 trust funds, and also a private unlimited company, SMV Investments, that has major investments in defence contracting, tobacco, genetically modified agriculture and the petroleum industry. Merchant Venturers serve on the boards of many local charitable and cultural organisations, and are guaranteed seats on the University of Bristol Court and the Downs Committee. It quotes Paul Burton of the University's School of Policy Studies as saying, "they exert quite a bit of influence and we, the people of Bristol, don't know much about them and can't hold them to account"
A Promenade on New Year's Day
01 Jan 2021
I wandered along the gorge today and found the entrance to the disused Portnalls Number 1 railway tunnel of the Bristol Port Railway and Pier. The door was unlocked, but as soon as I opened it I felt a sense of current habitation and decided discretion was the best option. There's a lot of people homeless in Bristol at the moment, and they don't need disturbing. For the same reason, I've omitted posting some pictures of a little encampment somewhat off the beaten track of the new Zig Zag, where I reversed direction as soon as I realised I'd come across a current habitation of some sort.
Up in Clifton it took me a little while to work out that the picture of the Promenade I was trying to reproduce was taken from the viewpoint I'd thought, it was just that the Alderman's fountain was moved from the top of Bridge Valley Road to the other side of the promenade in 1987, so trying to use it as my initial landmark wasn't very helpful!
Finally I swung past the Society of Merchant Venturers, who presumably still own most of Clifton, having bought the entire manor, including Clifton Down, in 1676, and I imagine aren't in much danger of running out of money. That's true to their motto: indocilis pauperiem pati is apparently from the Odes of Horace, and translates as "will not learn to endure poverty"...
Oooh, it opens. However, it also looks like it closes fairly solidly and can be bolted from the outside. And it felt just a tad like there might be someone inside. So I didn't venture in.
I imagine this alarm was last connected to anything during the tunnel's last commercial incarnation, where is was a shooting range for a Bristol gun club. Not even the lights are wired up these days. Or the water.
Erected by Alderman Thomas Proctor of Bristol to record the liberal gift of certain rights over clifton down made to the citizens by the Society of Merchant Venturers under the provisions of the Clifton and Durdham Downs Acts of Parliament 1861 whereby the enjoyment of these Downs is preserved to the citizens of Bristol for ever.
They get about, these Merchant Venturers.
Tiny Houses, Crocodiles and Views
05 Jan 2021
I didn't really intend to record my walk today, but once I was out and about I couldn't really resist taking some pictures. The sun was lovely, but it was cold...
Prince's Lane
06 Jan 2021
The International Grotto Directory website says:
Prince’s Lane might have been one of the original ancient tracks from Hotwells to Clifton, in the Avon Gorge. The site later formed part of Rownham Woods which comprised some thirteen acres. By the end of the 18th century and the early 19th century, the Society of Merchant Venturers granted to Samuel Powell a building lease, for The Colonnade (1786), St. Vincent’s Parade (1790), Prince’s Buildings (1796), and Rock House. Rock House is generally considered to be the oldest surviving building associated with the Hotwell (see Chapter 20). John Power conveyed part of the woods to William Watts for the construction of Windsor Terrace (1790-1808).
The above development of the Avon Gorge cleared Rownham Woods, and created a triangle of land on the north side of the gorge, that became enclosed as a result, by Mansion Houses, whose garden walls all entered on to Prince’s Lane. The Lane started at the bottom of the gorge, at the base rock of Windsor Terrace, and came out half way up Sion Hill. It is clearly shown as a public footpath, dotted with trees, in Ashmead’s map of 1828. Some of the gardens were quite steep in parts and therefore, had to be terraced, because of the gradient of the gorge.
I've passed Prince's Lane literally thousands of times in my life, every time I've walked past the Avon Gorge Hotel, which itself started (in 1898) as the Grand Clifton Spa and Hydropathic Institution and pumped water up from the Hot Well for its hydropathic treatments. I've never actually ventured down it until today, or at least nothing like as far down it as I did this afternoon—I may have poked my head around the back of the hotel to see the original pump rooms at some point in the past.
This was a great wander, though it does very much feel like a private road, and frankly I may have been pushing my luck a bit by winding my way between the astoundingly big back gardens of the houses of some presumably very wealthy Cliftonites, but I felt vaguely justified in exploring the history of one of the oldest footpaths in my part of Bristol...
This building is 1894, but commemorates the original Hot Well House down in actual Hotwells, built in 1694.
I had a quick look, and apparently this grand house with an amazing view is split into flats, with a two-bedroom example going for somewhere in the region of three quarters of a million pounds. Clifton, eh?
"Built 1894, designed by Philip Monro for Sir George Newnes, the promoter of the scheme", hence the GN in the pediment. He also funded the Clifton Rocks Railway, apparently.
One thing it doesn't mention is that he became the Father of Australian Architecture after being transported for forgery, having gone bankrupt, forged a financial document, been caught, pled guilty, and been sentenced to death, which I think is an interesting detail...
A Little Local Wander
07 Jan 2021
Which included a literal "local", the Pump House, to try out their shop/deli/cafe. A flat white, some apples and a New York Deli toastie. Eleven quid, mind, but the Pump House was never a cheap pub...
I enjoyed the fog, and wandering down a few more out-of-the-way back alleys and what-have-you on the Hotwell Road.
I'm thinking of getting up early and going for a morning walk tomorrow, weather-depending, but at the moment my motivation to do things like this seems to be much strong in the evenings when I'm just thinking about it rather than in the morning when I actually have to do it. But it's going to be cold, and low tide is quite early, so there's always a chance of getting some footage of the hot well actually being visibly hot; you never know...
From the article I was reading to accompany yesterday's Prince's Lane wander:
"In the 1970s, access to Prince’s Lane from Hotwell Road was walled off, and a gate was put in the wall on Hinton Lane, which was locked and prevented people from using it."
I think this is likely to be that gate. It's certainly close to the most likely path for Prince's Lane to shimmy between the back gardens of St Vincent's Parade and the back gardens of Windsor Terrace to emerge from the Clifton hillside onto Hinton Lane, anyway.
The fake "roof" here is a rainwater collector, complete with guttering, that feeds the rainwater butts for the community gardening efforts in Cumberland Piazza. Neat.
It's a private estate, but I figured nobody would object too much if I wandered straight through. I don't push my way into private areas too much on these walks—my intention in the first place was to only walk down public roads—but sometimes my curiosity about a place I've walked past for decades but never set foot on gets the better of me.
It helps, I'm sure, that I'm white, approaching middle age and have a vaguely RP accent. Plus I do my best to look as un-furtive as possible and only wander through private areas in broad daylight and carrying a big obvious camera, which might be helping rather than hindering. In all the years I've been walking around places and poking my nose in I've never been asked to leave anywhere, anyway, so I've been taking that as a sign that my hopefully-repectful approach is working.
I didn't walk into the private garden here, but it was nice to get a new perspective on this curved terrace I've walked past so many times on the way down the harbourside into town.
And, inevitably, a load of tagging. The Spar is a pretty awful example of the kind of chain shop that's not good at the best of times. It survives, I imagine, because there aren't any other shops.
Morning Walk
08 Jan 2021
Tempted by a hopeful repeat of yesterday's weather, I got up early this morning and went for a short walk up into Clifton Village, around Observatory Hill, back down the Zig Zag and home. Instead of beautiful and mysterious fog and crisp freezing brightness I got some murk and slight dampness which included witnessing a road-raging van driver and finding that it still wasn't cold enough for the hot well to be even gently steaming when I got down there. I've still never seen it steaming, but I've been told it does, on colder days.
I quite liked the colours and the light, but this photo doesn't really capture the feeling. Ah well.
The way the left-hand side looks a lot more together than the right-hand side may be explained by the very first part of the listing:
Rock House, now divided into 2. c1800. Render with limestone dressings, roof not visible. Double-depth plan. Late Georgian style. 3 storeys and basement; 5-window range. A symmetrical front has pilaster strips to a moulded coping, a wide basement area with Pennant-stepped bridge to an elliptical-arched doorway with metal batswing fanlight and 2-leaf 12-panel door with fluted lower panels. In front of the basement area is a later colonnade of 6 slim Tuscan columns, square to each end, to a deep first-floor balcony, and a shallow, tented second-floor balcony on cast-iron brackets with flat stanchions, both with pointed-arched wrought-iron railings with quatrefoils; 8/8-pane ground-floor sashes, French windows above, and plate-glass basement sashes.
However, I've found several references that suggest that even Historic England's estimate of the date of the property is wrong. I just found one in a planning document, part of an objection to a planning application related to Prince's Lane by the Cliftonwood and Hotwells Improvement Society:
Rock House (412 Hotwell Rd) is shown in an early engraving by William Halfpenny in 1731 so is much older than any of the neighbouring buildings and is the sole survivor of the original Hotwell Spa. It is incorrect to say it dates from 1800, and the planners have been told this.
I haven't, sadly, tracked down the engraving itself.
Mirror Maze
10 Jan 2021
Went for a wander with my friend Lisa—the current lockdown rules seem to be that one local walk for exercise per day with a maximum of one person not in one's "bubble" is fine—up to the University of Bristol area right at the edge of my one-mile perimeter to see the Jeppe Hein Mirror Maze, among other things. On the way we mused about Merchant Venturers, the slave and tobacco trades, and dating in the time of Covid.
It may say "Reflections House", but in its listing it's called "The White House". Charles Dyer, 1850.
I imagine it would look a lot nicer if it weren't backlit. Maybe I'll try taking another snap of it at a different time of day...
Bristol Water Works, I'm thinking. This grid square of Clifton is basically the reservoir and waterworks, both historic and modern.
The old pump house is just out of shot to the right; next time I go I'll grab a photo of it for completeness. The giant covered reservoir around the back of this is gravity-fed from Barrow Reservoir and then a pumping station here sends it up the hill to the covered reservoir and water tower on Durdham Down.
Later on this wander I took a photo of the covered reservoir itself, so look out for that.
Architectural tidbit:
By local repute, the bungalow at 46 Upper Belgrave Road was owned by BWW and was of reduced height so that the man in charge of the pump at Oakfield Road could see the standpipe and stop pumping when the reservoir was full! — 'To Keep Open and Unenclosed':
The Management of Durdham down since 1861, by Gerry Nichols
