Previously Posted: Cracking the Coade

For those new to CabbieBlog or readers who are slightly forgetful, on Saturdays I’m republishing posts, many going back over a decade. Some will still be very relevant while others have become dated over time. Just think of this post as your weekend paper supplement.

Cracking the Coade (17.08.2010)

Standing on Westminster Bridge guarding the gateway to south London stands the 13-ton South Bank Lion, made from London’s famous artificial stone, said to be the most durable and weatherproof of any such material so far invented.

Patented by Richard Holt and manufactured in his Lambeth yard from 1720 for 40 years this stone was successfully modified by unmarried “Mrs” Coade by the addition of finely ground glass and prefired clay, when she took over the factory in 1769.

Over the next 70 years Coade Artificial Manufactory as it became known, produced a range of garden nymphs, sphinxes, statutes, busts and other ornamental features for buildings, Coade stone can be found at Buckingham Palace, Windsor Castle, the Tower of London and on the tomb of Captain Bligh in the churchyard of St. Mary-at-Lambeth.

As it says on one of its paws the South Bank Lion was completed in May 1837 just three years before the factory closed with a loss of the stone’s precise composition formula.

Our Lion first graced the Lion brewery on the south bank of the Thames near where Hungerford Bridge now stands. Painted red and standing high over the entrance archway he even survived the Blitz. The brewery was demolished in 1949 and our Lion disappeared to emerge to grace the Festival of Britain in 1952. Two years later at the King’s suggestion the lion was placed at the entrance to Waterloo Station.

He has only stood in his current position since 1966. When it was moved several items of interest were found in a recess in the lion’s back, they included two coins from the time of William IV and a trade card of the Coade family, so when the Lion was moved to its present site a 1966 coin and a copy of The Times for 17th March 1966 were added to the original items.

The lab boys have rather broken the myth of a lost formula for Coade Stone having recreated it perfectly in a laboratory in the British Museum.

If you want to have a go this is how you go about it:

Its manufacture requires special skills: extremely careful control and skill in kiln firing, over a period of days. This skill is even more remarkable when the potential variability of kiln temperatures at that time is considered. Mrs Coade’s factory was the only really successful manufacturer.

The formula used was:
10% of grog (see below)
5-10% of crushed flint
5-10% fine quartz (to reduce shrinkage)
10% crushed soda lime glass.
60-70% Ball clay from Dorset and Devon.

The ‘grog’ was made up of finely crushed fired items, such as pitchers (ware that has been fired but rejected due to the presence of faults). This was also referred to as “fortified clay” which was then inserted (after kneading) into a kiln which would fire the material at a temperature of 1,100 degrees Celsius for over four days.

As a further blow to his mythical status our Lion’s manhood was reworked after being considered too large once he came down from his high archway over the brewery gate.

Pedantic paving

Taking the dog for a walk in Romford’s most prestigious park, we left our car in the free car park. The space in the car park’s corner was tight, so I put the offside front wheel 2 inches up on the kerb, allowing more distance from the adjacent van and allowing my wife to get out. I come back to a parking ticket, I’m not parked on a disabled bay nor obstructing the entrance or pavement. No the parking bay had a 4ft fence on two sides and nobody could use the distance between the kerb and railings to walk around the car. And what is a parking warden doing walking around a free car park ¾ of a mile from the town centre?

Johnson’s London Dictionary: Jellied Eels

JELLIED EELS (n.) A traditional dish comprising eels boiled in vinegar, garnished with the creature’s solidified jelly, and served cold, eaten with a wooden fork. Alcohol doth make the dish appetising.

Dr. Johnson’s London Dictionary for publick consumption in the twenty-first century avail yourself on Twitter @JohnsonsLondon

The London Grill: Lev Parikian

We challenge our contributors to reply to ten devilishly probing questions about their London and we don’t take “Sorry Gov” for an answer. Everyone sitting in the hot seat they will face the same questions ranging from their favourite way to spend a day out in the capital to their most hated building on London’s skyline to find out what Londoners think about their city. The questions are the same but the answers vary wildly.

Lev Parikian is a writer, birdwatcher and conductor. He is the author of Into the Tangled Bank, longlisted for the Wainwright Prize, Light Rains Sometimes Fall, Why Do Birds Suddenly Disappear? and most recently Taking Flight – The Evolutionary Story of Life on the Wing. He lives in South London with his family, who are getting used to his increasing enthusiasm for nature. As a birdwatcher, his most prized sightings are a golden oriole in the Alpujarras and a black redstart at Dungeness Power Station

What’s your secret London tip?

Look up! So many buildings are more interesting above the ground floor. And as an avid birdwatcher, I’m always on the lookout for interesting things, whether it’s a peregrine perched on my local church tower in West Norwood or a flock of starlings swirling around above Trafalgar Square (albeit in far smaller numbers than was common in the 1970s when flocks ran to tens of thousands of birds).

One of the joys of London is its abundance of green spaces in a thriving metropolis. Hyde Park, Kensington Gardens, Regent’s Park, St. James’s Park and much much more. And birds even find a toehold where the man-made environment predominates. I once heard a black redstart – a rare bird which established a breeding foothold in the ruins of post-war London – singing as I came out of Waterstones on Piccadilly. The song was clearly audible over the rumble of traffic, so I looked up just in time to see it fly away from its perch on the roof of the Hotel Le Meridien.

What’s your secret London place?

Are there any secrets any more? We visited Venice last year, and before we went I googled ‘secret Venice’ – the bookshop ‘Acqua Alta’ turned up on every single one of the first ten sites that came up, so I think it’s safe to say the secret’s out. I feel sure the same thing applies to London. And whenever people share their own special secret places in London I feel horribly out of touch – I definitely don’t make the most of living in this great city.

That said, I do enjoy walking around my local cemetery in West Norwood. It’s one of the ‘Magnificent Seven’, and a place of peace and repose, as well as a trove of interesting graves. Mrs Beeton is buried there, as well as Hiram Maxim (inventor of the automatic machine gun), and C. W. Alcock, who created the F.A. Cup and organised the first Test match (at The Oval, London’s finest cricket ground).

What’s your biggest gripe about London?

Oh, I don’t know. People disregarding the needs of others, I suppose – so easy to do in a big city.

What’s your favourite building?

I’m extremely fond of my local art gallery, Dulwich Picture Gallery – although I usually forget there’s a special exhibition on until it’s too late. On a larger scale, I can always while away a happy hour or two at the Natural History Museum, whether exploring the wonders inside or examining the many imaginative features of the exterior.

What’s your most hated building?

The skyline of the City has been transformed in the last few decades, hasn’t it? And I must say I’m far from a fan of some of the more extravagant and visible skyscrapers.

What’s the best view in London?

I’m biased because it’s a five-minute walk from my house, but the view across London from Norwood Park is hard to beat. There it all is, laid out in front of you, and on a clear day you can see to Ally Pally and beyond.

What’s your personal London landmark?

Maybe not a landmark, but whenever I’m at Lord’s or The Oval I look out for the pied wagtails – the chirpiest, jauntiest little birds – that hang around on the outfield of both establishments.

What’s London’s best film, book or documentary?

Not ‘about’ London so much, but The Long Dark Teatime of the Soul by Douglas Adams, written when St Pancras station was still awaiting redevelopment, reimagines that extraordinary building quite wonderfully.

What’s your favourite restaurant?

For about 20 years now our go-to restaurant for celebrations and family occasions has been Chez Bruce in Wandsworth. We’ve never had a meal there that wasn’t at the very least excellent. The service is great, too – attentive without being obtrusive – and then there’s the legendary cheese board. It’s quite an achievement to keep such consistently high standards for so long.

How would you spend your ideal day off in London?

Breakfast at Brown and Green at Gipsy Hill station on my way to a morning’s birding at the London Wetland Centre in Barnes. Lunch at Brindisa in South Kensington, then an hour at the Natural History Museum and pop into John Sandoe Books for a browse. Dinner at Chez Bruce. And let’s say that my son (a jazz pianist) happens to be gigging nearby – that would top the whole thing off admirably.

Taxi Talk Without Tipping