Bip, Bap, Bip, Bap, Bip, Bap, Bop!
Bip, Bap, Bip, Bap, Bip, Bap, Bop!
It's that time of year again.
Bip, Bap, Bip, Bap, Bip, Bap, Bop!
Tennis!
Everyone has their own tastes. Plenty of folk can't see why grown men might find rolling around in mud, chasing an odd-shaped ball interesting or how stuffing ever-increasing rolls of blubber into multicoloured lycra and pedalling around the Peak District could be fun. But patting a ball back and forth to each other for hours on end? Come on!
I have to admit that half a century ago I did play tennis for my school. It was an unfortunate event, the result of a mix-up in communication between PE staff. A visiting school had arrived with eight players, six girls and two lads, expecting to play two matches of girls doubles and two matches of mixed. Eight girls from our establishment awaited them on the courts. Unfortunately I, in the company of late, great mate Ian and a few others, was practising my devastating spells of hostile bowling in the neighbouring cricket nets and Ian and I were co-opted into the tennis team, apparently the least worst option.
I don't remember too much of the experience. The things that do spring to mind are that my partner was Pat and she possessed a service as devastatingly hostile as my bowling. Well, it certainly felt devastatingly hostile on the occasion that she somehow managed to bury one into my left kidney. I also think that I must've cut a Fred Perry-like figure, flailing my wooden racquet about whilst around dashing around the court in my long, white trousers.
I also recall that we lost. That we lost quite quickly. That we possibly lost without winning a single game. Pat started to call herself Trisha to try to avoid any association with the event, I stopped passing blood after about a week as my kidney healed and I don't think I've picked up a tennis racquet since.
No, tennis has never really been a great interest, so when the television is saturated with Wimbledon and Mrs. Bygone Boozer has disappeared to Tamworth to ride an event which I too would've been riding were it not for this ********** Achilles' issue, I have little choice but to turn to producing more of this drivel. And with Mrs. BB heading Tamworth way without me, what could be more appropriate than a bygone Tamworth Arms?
This one had me puzzled for a little while. It's had me puzzled for quite a big while actually, for Wimbledon ended almost a couple of months ago. The source of this image described its location as being on Dawson Street in Hammersmith.
Now, whilst I know some of the roads in Hammersmith I don't have an encyclopaedic knowledge of all of the streets in W6. My 1970s A to Z drew a blank and Mr. Google couldn't locate Dawson Street either. He did throw up one over in the direction of Bethnal Green, but that's certainly not Hammersmith, and I couldn't find a Tamworth Arms ever existing in those parts either.
However, turning to the directories, a bit of delving drew up, from the depths of the 1890 Post Office version, a Henry Monkton who was a beer retailer at 31 Field Road in Hammersmith.
Looking closely at the photograph, isn't that 'No. 31' showing above the door, partially obscured by the lamp? Where is Field Road? It's loosely in Hammersmith, but probably more like Fulham and, according to the 1893 Ordnance Survey map of the area, Dawson Street ran off it.
So the mystery is solved! The Tamworth Arms sat at the northern side of the junction of Dawson Street with Field Road, opposite the Queen's Club where they play more of that bip, bap, bip, bap, bip, bap, bop stuff. The pub was in the hands of a Henry Monkton for quite a while.
Henry is recorded as being there in the 1881 census...
...but whether he's the Henry mentioned in the 1890 directory extract above is uncertain as he died in March of that year when his son, also Henry, took the pub on. Henry jnr. was still there in 1926...
...but he'd presumably gone the next year as Charrington's records show that in 1927 they sold the lease to somebody named Trigg for £1450. Sixteen years later they made him a net payment of £150 for what was left of it and installed their own tenants.
Charrington's sold the freehold to Fulham Borough Council for £7500 in 1963, under the threat of a Compulsory Purchase Order. The pub was demolished with flats being built on the site and Dawson Street disappeared totally. Shame that the Queen's Club and tennis didn't disappear at the same time. It's taken so long to write this that at least the game has totally disappeared from the telly. Bip, bap, bip, bap, bip, bap, gone! Gone until next year. But the Tamworth has gone forever.
The map extract is copyright and is reproduced with the permission of the National Library of Scotland under this licence.
If you've read this far, then thank you. Possibly, like me, you may have some sort of interest in bygone boozers. Clicking here will take you to a searchable/sortable index which you can use to see if I've already featured any lost locals from your locality. You can also subscribe to ensure that you don't miss any future posts. Simply click here to return to the home page (opens in a new tab), follow the 'Subscribe' link and complete the form to receive an email notification of any future post. Or you could simply follow the link at the top of this page.
©2022 www.bygoneboozers.co.uk