John Pettinger, plumber

Tags

catering, plumber

Street View: 65
Address: 10 Mortimer Street

The story of 10 Mortimer Street starts in 1814 when the tax records list the premises for John Pettinger & Son. They may have been there before that date, but so far I have found no evidence to support that idea, so I will stick to the departure date of 1814. The following year, one Edward Jackson and John Pettinger of Mortimer Street dissolve the partnership they had as plumbers and glaziers.⁽¹⁾ Where Jackson went is not made clear, but Pettinger remained the plumber of Mortimer Street and his name appears in subsequent tax records and directories. But in 1837, John died at the age of 57 and on 30 March he is buried at St. Marylebone. In his will, he leaves “all my stock in trade implements and utensils of every kind used and employed in and about my trade and also all my household furniture books plate linen china wines goods and other effects which shall be in my house in Mortimer Street at the time of my death” to his widow Sarah. Besides his wife, he names his friends John Black of Romney Terrace and Francis Wills of Mortimer Street as executors and they are to make sure that his other assets provide an income for his widow, and after her death for his children, John, Sarah and Charlotte. The executors declare that the estate does not exceed the value of £3,000. I am afraid that Sarah did not survive her husband for very long and in her will, John Black and Francis Willis are again named as the executors. Black declared that Sarah had died on 29 November 1838 and that the value of her estate, which she left to her daughters, did not exceed £800.⁽²⁾

10 Mortimer Street (with the yellow bricks) has since been renumbered to 46 (Google satellite view)

And that is about as far as we can take the story of the Pettingers in Mortimer Street. Son John did not continue the business after his mother’s death, at least not at Mortimer Street. The 1841 census found him plumbing in Ogle Street, but we will leave him and continue with the property at 10 Mortimer Street. After Sarah’s death, it became a coffee house and the first proprietor we find there is Richard Holt Gibb who used top have a grocery shop in Tower Street.⁽³⁾ In December 1839, he insured the Mortimer Street property with the Sun Fire Office, so probably just after Tallis had been round to gather evidence for his Street Views as it seems unlikely that he would have the name of the previous occupant in the booklet if Gibb had already been there. Anyway, the 1841 census sees Richard firmly established as coffee house keeper. And it is as such that he is asked to give evidence in the case of a failed attempt to shoot Queen Victoria.

John Francis, a young jobbing carpenter, lived in various places around Mortimer Street and around the corner in Great Titchfield Street. At some point he lodged for three weeks at Gibb’s coffee house, but left when it became too cold. Gibb said that the room Francis rented did not have any heating, so it was logical that the lad removed himself to other lodgings, but despite that, he was still in the habit of frequenting the Caledonian Coffee House, sitting for hours over his cup of coffee. He had trouble getting work and in a desperate attempt to set himself up in business, he rented a shop in order to become a tobacconist. He ordered goods and stole some money from a fellow lodger to pay for the stock, but the landlord (not Gibb, but the one in Great Titchfield Street) found out quickly enough that it was Francis who had purloined the money and went and got it back. When the supplier of the tobacco goods found out that money was unlikely to be coming in, he repossessed his property and Francis was left with nothing. In desperation he bought a pistol from a pawnbroker and loitered around Hyde Park. When Queen Victoria and Prince Albert went past in their open carriage, he fired a shot at them, but missed miserably. In another version of the story a police officer knocked the pistol out of his hand, thereby avoiding a fatality. Whatever the true course of events, Francis was imprisoned, found guilty of high treason and sentenced to be hung, drawn and quartered. But that barbaric sentence was later revoked and commuted to transportation. Francis spent the next years in a penal colony in Australia, but later managed to work again as a carpenter / builder and to raise a family. He died in 1885.⁽⁴⁾

top part of a broadsheet about the incident (© Trustees of the British Museum)

Gibb was an enterprising type of chap and when land across the Thames in Battersea became available for development, he bought a plot and had six houses built by a Mr. Waghorne.⁽⁵⁾ The houses are still standing and although a few cosmetic changes have been made to some of them, they still look basically the same as in 1840s. The houses were known as the Caledonia cottages, and one wonders what link Gibb had with Scotland as he had already named his coffee house in Mortimer Street the Caledonian Coffee House. And not just that one, but also the one he had later. In an 1846 Old Bailey case about a stolen watch, Gibb stated that he was the proprietor of “the Caledonian coffee-shop in Westminster-bridge-road … I had opened about a quarter past five o’clock that morning, which is my usual time”.⁽⁶⁾ Obtaining your (very) early morning coffee was apparently no problem in 1846, presumably not just at Gibb’s, but in other coffee houses as well. Perhaps getting up early did not appeal to Richard for very long, as in 1851, the census lists him as a manufacturer, living at 25 Bridge Road, that is on the other side of the road and nearer to the bridge than the cottages he had built. Unfortunately, the census does not say what he was manufacturing, but in 1861, he could be found at Chester Gardens, Lambeth, as a dealer in chicory and in 1871 he is described as a “manufacturer of coffee refining powder”, so the link with coffee remained.

58-68 Battersea Road Bridge (Google Street View)

In the mean time, the coffee house in Mortimer Street had various other proprietors; in 1851 it is William Dennington who runs it, and certainly from 1856 onwards, but perhaps earlier, the proprietor is David Read. By 1871, the census has George William Hawkins as the coffee house keeper, but not for long as on 10 April of that year he died. His widow continued to run the coffee house and can be found there in 1881. By then the house numbers in the street have been changed and number 10 became number 46. In 1891, the property was no longer used as a coffee house, so I will stop the story of 10 Mortimer Street at this point.

As no picture of the coffee house in Mortimer Street is available, I will round off this post with an illustration of a coffee house in Great Russell Street, also called the Caledonian, but as far as I know without a link to Gibb.

water colour by Thomas Hosmer Shepherd 1857 (© The Trustees of the British Museum)

(1) The London Gazette, 21 January 1815.
(2) LMA: MS 9172/198/89 and MS 9172/198/125.
(3) See Old Bailey case t18320517-10 where he gives evidence about the theft of his purse.
(4) Caledonian Mercury, 2 June 1842; the website of Barrie Charles which has a lot more information about John Francis (see here); and Newsletter 131 of the Launceston Historical Society, p. 4-5 (see here).
(5) Chapter 2, Survey of London, vol. 50, Battersea (draft online here).
(6) Old Bailey case t18460330-978.

Neighbours:

<– 11 Mortimer Street (not in Tallis)

9 Mortimer Street –>

John Mason, plumber

Tags

plumber

Street View: 87
Address: 2 Cripplegate Buildings

In the previous post, I wrote about 1 Cripplegate Buildings where new occupants could be seen every few years, but for the neighbours at number 2, the story is totally different. Two families plied their plumbing businesses there for the best part of a century. Tallis lists John Mason, but we will start with his predecessors, the Banners. In 1741, John Banner, the son of Peter Banner, a joiner of Frodsham, Cheshire, put himself apprentice to John Battin, a plumber of London. From John Battin’s will, we learn that John Banner was his “kinsman” and that one Elizabeth Banner was his sister-in-law.⁽¹⁾ Battin’s widow, Margaret, takes over the business after her husband’s death and also takes on John Banner’s younger brother William as an apprentice later that year.

Top part of John Banner’s indenture (LMA: COL/CHD/FR/02/0722-0-729)

From Margaret’s will we learn that she was Peter Banner’s sister, hence John Banner’s aunt. John is named as joint-executor with Margaret’s sister Elizabeth and he is left “the residue of the estate”.⁽²⁾ In other words, he gets the business. The Land Tax records at that time do not necessarily specify addresses; the assessors just went from house to house and noted the tenants down one after another as they found them in the order of their walk, only occasionally noting a side street or court. So, in order to work out an address, you need to look for those for whom you do know a specific address in any given year and work backwards or forwards from there. In Banner’s case, we can work backwards from the 1780 Land Tax record which does specify Cripplegate Buildings. Noting the neighbours and going back in time, it is clear that the shop he inherited from Margaret Battin was indeed 2 Cripplegate Buildings. At some point, John (or possibly his son, also named John) acquired a property in White Cross Street, but when exactly is unclear.

trade card for John Banner (Source: British Museum)

trade card for Henry and Francis Gifford Banner (Source: British Museum)

I have not found a marriage for John Banner, but on 13 April 1755, a son John, is baptised at St. Giles Cripplegate. The mother is just referred to as Mary. John junior is apprenticed to his father in 1778 and takes over the business when his father dies in 1788. In Kent’s Directory for 1794, he is listed as plumber and glass cutter. John junior’s son Francis Gifford is apprenticed into the business in 1805 and duly takes over, together with his brother Henry. When John resigns from the business or dies is not known, but in 1818, the insurance for the plumber’s shop is in the name of Francis Gifford. In 1831, however, the brothers are declared bankrupt. They no longer seem to have the property in White Cross Street.

London Gazette, 18 November 1831

The Land Tax record for 1832 lists the property as empty, but in 1835, we find John Mason there. He had already been living and working at Cripplegate Buildings from 1827, but across the street at number 9. Judging by Horwood’s map (see here), number 2 was slightly larger than number 9, so a reasonable move. The 1841 census lists John Mason, his wife Ann, four children aged between 5 and 10, a female servant and an apprentice at the property. The 1851 census is interesting, because John is no longer just described as a plumber, but as “plumber, painter, glazier, paper hanger & builder” employing 25 men. The 1861 census lists John Mason junior and his wife Mathilda as the residents of the property. John is employing 20 men. Although it would seem that John junior took over the business from his father sometime before 1861, that is not the case. Father and son remained partners until 1867 when they officially “dissolved and determined” their partnership.⁽³⁾ John junior must have moved to Kent as in late 1867, Mathilda dies and her probate record gives the address of 19 Essex Terrace, Lee, Kent.⁽⁴⁾ John is still at that address at the time of the 1871 census, still a plumber and employing 17 men. Also listed are Eliza, his second wife, and children of both marriages: Mathilda (9 years old), Ruth (8), Edith (3), and Lizzie (1).

The 1871 census shows the Cripplegate Buildings property as empty. At some point Alfred Benjamin Catford and Frederick Brown, skirt factors, ran their business from 2 Cripplegate Buildings until they went bankrupt in 1879⁽⁵⁾ and after that, the redevelopment took place described in the post on 1 Cripplegate Buildings (see here). And that was the end of the building as Tallis knew it. Do click on the elevation at the top of this post for a larger picture and enjoy the figure between the windows on the first floor waving at us. A naughty Mason child? A painter at work? Or an advertisement puppet of some sort? Also have a look at the trade cards where a figure is crawling on top of the bow window, although he is probably just fixing a leak in the roof. Whatever they represents, I thought them fun.

(1) Prerogative Court of Canterbury: PROB 11, 746, dated 23 December 1740, proved 28 April 1748.
(2) Prerogative Court of Canterbury: PROB 11, 784, dated 4 August 1749, proved 3 December 1750.
(3) The London Gazette, 8 January 1867.
(4) England & Wales, National Probate Calendar (Index of Wills and Administrations), 1868. Estate valued at under £450.
(5) The London Gazette, 30 September 1879.

Neighbours:

<– 3 Cripplegate Buildings

1 Cripplegate Buildings –>