It was the age of the property developer when great fortunes could be made, trading off development land to the LCC for permission to build on sensitive sites. Their names were legion-Centrepoint, London Wall, Euston Centre, Elephant and Castle, all of London seemed to have been changed out of scale and out of recognition. It was a form of vandalism in which the government and civic authorities were happy to acquiesce. Vast swathes of London disappeared in the process-Printing House Square, Caledonian Market, St. Luke’s Hospital, parts of Piccadilly, stretches of the City, were all demolished in order to make way for what became known as “comprehensive redevelopment.” What it represented was a deliberate act of erasure, an act of forgetting, not so dissimilar in spirit to the mood and ambience of the “Swinging Sixties” elsewhere in London. It was as if time, and London’s history, had for all practical purposes ceased to exist. In pursuit of profit, and instant gratification, the past had become a foreign country.
Three examples from the 1960s may suffice. Londonderry House in Park Lane was dismantled, in 1962, to make way for the London Hilton; the Georgian streets of the Packington Estate in Islington were demolished in 1966 to make room for a council estate; in 1963 the great Euston Arch, the portico of Euston Station, was pulled down as part of a scheme of “modernisation.” Just as the excitement of the “trendy” had animated the worlds of music and fashion, so the same denial or rejection of the past determined architectural and civic planning. “Swinging London” was all of a piece, and much of the swinging was done by the implements of the demolition teams.
O! London won’t be London long
For ’twill all be pulled down
And I shall sing a funeral song …
It might have been sung by Victoria Station, or Knightsbridge, or St. Giles Circus, in the 1960s.
The haunts we revelled in today
We lose tomorrow morning,
As one by one are swept away
In turn without a warning …
In the 1260s all the old “ruinated” work of past ages was swept away in the entire redevelopment of Bridge Ward. In the 1760s the medieval gates of the city walls were demolished on the grounds that they “obstructed the free current of air”; in the same decade of “improvement,” houses were demolished to make way for new streets in no fewer than eleven wards. It was the greatest single change in London since the Great Fire a hundred years before. Then in 1860 the Union of Benefices Act expedited the destruction of fourteen city churches, some of them erected by Wren after that Fire. The 1860s were in fact the great period of destruction when, in the words of Gavin Stamp in
It can be no more than coincidence that these great waves of vandalism occurred in the 60s of each century, unless you were to believe that some theory of cyclical recurrence can be applied to the city’s development. In that case we might expect the 2060s to mark the destruction of much twentieth-century building.