District Line: Section Two: Sloane Square to Mile End

If I’d gone out the next day to continue the District Line I think I would have found it difficult to raise the enthusiasm to continue. In the couple of weeks since the previous trip, though, I’d found my hwyl again and was raring to go. It also helped that, having done such a marathon trip as the first section, and having done a number of District stations while drawing the Piccadilly Line, I found that I’d already sketched 30 out of the 60 stations.  

Looking on the map I could see that half of the remaining stations, working east from Sloane Square, would get me to Mile End, which would be a perfectly suitable goal for this one trip. Thus far, the District Line had struck me by the variety of architectural styles on the line so far. Thinking back to the Piccadilly, although there are enough exceptions to the rule, generally I’d seen Holden – and Holden-esque – stations on the western and north eastern stretches, and Leslie Greens in the centre. There had been no distinctly District line style to emerge, and I was intrigued to see whether this would continue to be the case as I moved through central London.  

Before setting out I did think fairly long and hard about which section I should walk, and in the end I plumped for another route I know quite well, Cannon Street to Tower Hill via Monument. Sloane Square to start then. I have to be honest, this is the kind of tube station which really doesn’t do a great deal for me. To be fair, the previous station was largely destroyed through bombing during World War II, and I read that the rebuilt station was largely similar to the 1920s station which had been destroyed. I understand that space in central London is at a premium, so I can see why the decision was made to build onto the top of the station building, presumably in the 60s or 70s, but I can’t help wishing that they hadn’t built something quite so ugly.                   

Now, I wouldn’t go so far as to say that the new station entrance to Victoria Underground is ugly. I believe that this light and airy entrance to the underground ticket hall was opened as part of the 2018 revamp of the station. At the time of writing, Victoria is allegedly only the 4^th busiest station on the line. It has been the busiest at other times. Such things can only ever be a matter of estimation I would have thought. Still, that’s not bad going considering that it only services three lines, the District, the Circle, and the eponymous Victoria Line. As a point of trivia interest, working on a similar principle to Bakerloo, it was considered naming the line the Viking line – from Victoria and KING’s Cross at one time.

So to either one of the most impressive, or one of the least impressive stations on this – or any – Underground Line. You see, the current St. James Park station. You see, it was rebuilt as part of Charles Holden’s headquarters of the UERL, 55 Broadway. As you can see from the sketch, that’s a really impressive art deco ziggurat. But the station is really just the three doorways on the street level, and that really isn’t all that impressive. Well, you pays yer money and makes yer own mind up about that one. The fact is though that the station, and the whole of 55 Broadway is a grade 1 listed building, and I think it may well be the only tube station of which this may be true. To give a very brief explanation of the whole listed building thing, basically a grade II listed building is a building of special interest warranting every effort to preserve it. Many underground stations have this status. A grade II* listed building is a particularly important building of more than special interest, and a grade I listed building is a building of exceptional interest. The amount of legal protection given to such buildings increases with the importance of the listing. Almost all listed tube stations are either grade II or grade II*.

Since 2001 the actual entrance to Westminster station has been through Portcullis House, opened in that year. This is an inoffensive office block, with a particularly striking roof with its rows of tall chimneys which enter into what I believe is called an interesting architectural discussion with the adjacent palace of Westminster. To be honest it’s one of those stations which is far more striking inside than out, and when I first used it not long after the opening of the Jubilee Line extension I was struck by the glad and chrome elevator wells, and thought that it was a little like walking into a sci fi movie. Come to think of it, that may well have been what people felt the first time that Southgate station was opened in the 30s.

In the mid 80s, when I was attending Goldsmiths College of London University, I sometimes got Embankment, whence I’d walk up Villiers Street to Charing Cross. Coming out of the station there was often a guy selling flowers on a stall, and I’d say hello to him when I saw him, because I’m a nice bloke, and he seemed a nice bloke. A lot of people probably know what’s coming next. I’m pretty sure that this was Buster Edwards, one of the Great Train Robbers, although I never had the slightest idea until the release of the Phil Collins biopic in the late 80s. As for the station itself, I believe that this particular station building was opened just before the start of the First World War, and so I believe was one of Sir John Betjeman’s favourites.

the tube across the river, using what was then the East London Line, then get the circle or district from Whitechapel to

I have a feeling that this stretch of the District Line was constructed at the same time as, and as part of the Victoria Embankment. As a digression, the Victoria Embankment was built by one of London’s great unsung heroes, Joseph Bazalgette. I say unsung, because he should really be far better remembered than he is. He left a visible mark on the city with the building of the Embankment and the Albert Bridge, one of the prettiest bridges in Central London. However he should be remembered even more for pioneering Victorian London’s sewer system, which was responsible for clearing London of the scourge of cholera, amongst other benefits. 

Temple Station sits on the Embankment, and dates back to 1870 , and it’s a very appealing place, especially when you discover it out of the blue. Its name is taken from the Temple area, so named after the Temple Church of the Knights Templar, originally built in the 12^th century. Incidentally, Temple is the only station on the Underground which shares its name with a station on the Paris Metro.  

Blackfriars, next station along the line, is one of those rebuilt stations which might be kindly described as a symphony in glass and chrome. To be fair anything is better than 1970s cement. The gracious curve of the northern entrance on Queen Victoria Street is just slightly reminiscent of a couple of the 30s stations on other lines, but it’s anyone’s guess as to whether it will stand the test of time as well as Wood Green, for example.  

If you look at the main entrance of Mansion House Station, you might be surprised to learn that it was actually built in the 1990s. No glass or chrome to be seen, just some fairly sober stonework which looks more reminiscent of the 1890s. This replaced a Charles Holden station which was apparently in a similar style to his Northern line stations of the 1920s. The Mansion House itself is the official residence of the Lord Mayor of London (the City of London, as opposed to the Mayor of London). Apparently Mansion House station is further away from the actual Mansion House than either Cannon Street or Monument, but there you go. Any network which will call two completely separate stations the same name has a rather slapdash attitude towards naming stations anyway. 

Speaking of Cannon Street, the ticket hall of the underground station is subsurface, so the entrance to the tube station is pretty much a hole in the wall. As hole in the wall stations go though, this is one of the more attractive ones. Work on it was completed in 2012 I believe, and although it really looks nothing like the style of a Charles Holden station, it is in its own way a pleasing combination of cement, glass and metalwork, which are all in harmonious proportions with each other. Not that I had a massive amount of time to stand and admire the station since this was the point of the trip where I’d made my mind up to continue on foot. 

In all honesty it doesn’t take a huge amount of time to walk along Cannon Street from there to Monument station. Now, this is a part of London that is very important to me for a number of reasons. The Monument itself is Sir Christopher Wren’s monument to the Great Fire of London. In 1977 I ascended it for the first time. There are 311 steps to the viewing platforms at the top, which represent the 311 feet separating the Monument from the site on Pudding Lane where the fire started. Back then the nearby Natwest Tower had only recently become the tallest building in the UK, and there was still a fantastic view across the city. The view has, I’m afraid, worsened every time I’ve been back since. The Monument stands on Fish Street Hill which, up until 1831, was the main road leading directly down through the church yard of St. Magnus the Martyr onto Old London Bridge. As well as stations, I have a thing about bridges, and once a long time ago won the BBCs Mastermind answering questions on London Bridge. Well, that was in what seems like another life, but it always brings a warm glow to visit the Monument, and look at the old bridge in my mind’s eye.

Back in the 70s, when I first formed an interest  in the Underground for itself, one of the little odd things which used to intrigue me on the Tube map was the zigzag line between Monument, and Bank station on the Central line which represented the escalator link between the two stations. I was a little disappointed when I actually rode it for the first time. I mean, it was an escalator. I’m not sure what I expected, but there was no good reason to expect anything else. Still, bearing that in mind I did nip into the station and use the escalator across to Bank. It took me a minute or two of mooching around outside before I found the statue of James Greathead. He’s another unsung hero of modern London. James Greathead developed the tunnelling shield used for the original deep level tube lines in London, based on Marc Brunel’s original shield which he and his son Isambard used to build the Thames Tunnel, which was part of the Underground until the East London line was hived off to the Overground. Walking around brought me to the new entrance on the Walbrook, which you can see in the sketch, before I completed the walk past the Tower of London to Tower Hill station. 

Tower Hill is another station which looks rather like a hole in the wall. However it is well wroth having a good look around the environs of the station. Apart from the fact that you can stand by the entrance to the station and look across at a good view of the Tower of London complex, if you take a walk around you will soon come across an unassuming cylindrical structure which looks rather like an overgrown pillar box.  This is the northern entrance to the Tower Subway, which was built beneath the river, and was the first ever tunnel created using cast iron shields, which was the preferred mode of construction for the Underground’s first ever deep level tubes. At one stage it even had a small, cable powered railway running through it. This was never a great economic success, and it has not been open to the public for more than a century. At the moment it carries telecommunication cables under the Thames.

Back onto the train then for the final push eastwards to Mile End. Before that, though, there was Aldgate East. This is where the Circle Line goes its own sweet way to Aldgate. According to my research the current station opened in 1938 after having been resited from its original position, which incidentally enabled London transport to close two stations – the original Aldgate East and St. Mary’s Whitechapel. This though makes it one of those odd stations to look older than it actually is – what with the arched entrance and the ornamented façade it somehow looks some 30 years older than it actually is supposed to be. 

The next station, Whitechapel, is one of those stations where I’ve often stood on the platform, but had never seen the outside of the station building before starting on the challenge. In my first couple of months at University I lived with my Uncle, Aunt and cousins in Woodford, which meant a journey on the central line every morning to Mile End, the District Line to White Chapel, and the East London Line to New Cross or New Cross Gate. Well, as I mentioned earlier the East London Line hasn’t been part of the underground network since 2007, opening in 2010 as part of the London Overground. Well, we can’t complain. I should imagine that more of the Underground goes overground than underground, so it’s only natural that some of the Overground goes underground. As for Whitechapel Station itself, the kindest thing I can say is that its shiny new entrance is nicer than the kind of new stations put up in the 1970s. Sadly it’s not a patch on the 1902 entrance that closed in 2015, and that’s a real shame.

Thankfully Stepney Green Station has largely been left well enough alone.  This means that we’re back to a recognisably Metropolitan and District Railway design ethic. It’s a 20^th century station, although only just, having originally been built in 1902. Now that we were outside of Central London, the only ideas I had about what I’d find were based on the little bit of research I’d done before the trip. So I was pleasantly surprised by Stepney Green, especially after some of the uninspiring rebuilt fare I’d seen during this particular section of the challenge.

I’m glad to say that the idea of finishing this trip with a flourish was made into a reality by Mile End station. The station was designed by Stanley Heaps, and actually opened after the end of the   I think that the glazed sreens which incorporate the roundel show a debt of inspiration to Charles Holden’s Northern Line stations from the 1920s. This building came about as part of the Central line extension East, rather than conforming to any particular District Line design ethic. I don’t care.     Maybe I’m being unnecessarily romantic about this, but a building like this opening so soon after the end of the war is something that I can imagine as a welcome sign that better, brighter days were ahead.

Second World War, however

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I suppose that I shouldn’t have been too surprised at the variety of different architectural styles in this central London section of the District Line. I thought something similar when I did the mammoth central section of the Piccadilly Line. The westernmost parts of the line were marked by a notably Piccadilly Line design ethic, which is hardly surprising since several of the station buildings were actually built for the Piccadilly Line extension of the 30s. Both lines South of the river proved to have a bit of a hodgepodge of styles, dictated in several cases by the LSWR or Southern Railway styles of the times at which they were built. I did wonder whether a distinctly District Railway style – maybe something along the lines of Barons and Earls Courts – would be more obvious as we reached East.