Cottages, Gumdrops, and a Living Legend: My Winter Reading

What does a heritage blogger do all winter, when daytrips are cancelled, it's too cold for walking tours, and heritage houses are hidden behind snowbanks? She catches up on her reading, of course. Allow me to make a few literary recommendations:

Lynne D. DiStefano and Dan Schneider, The Ontario Cottage: Perfect of Its Kind. Vancouver: Figure 1, 2025. 200 pages.

The perfect book for those of us who admire those lovely Ontario cottages, explaining how the style originated, how the cottages were constructed, and what it's like to live in one. It even includes chapters on the typical hip roofs and occasional verandas. 

There are lots of cottage photos in this book, including some in colour. I'd like to see more pics from London, but when you're covering the entire province, I suppose you can't use many photos from each community. The authors have included some of our most historic and photogenic examples: Carfrae Cottage at 39 Carfrae Street, Nathaniel Reid Cottage at 477 Waterloo, and Templar Cottage at 607 Talbot Street. There are also some homes from the surrounding area, such as the beautiful Swiss Cottage in Aylmer, a gem I recognized from drives through that town.

Altogether, this is a fascinating book for admirers of Ontario's residential architecture. Let's get Lynne and Dan to tackle another style, like Queen Anne. 

Shannon Kyles, The Story of Ontario Architecture: What We Built and Why We Built It. Greensville: Author, 2025. 381 pages. 

First of all, Ms. Kyles needed an editor. When Foreword is spelled "Foreward," and there's a typo in the very first sentence, things aren't off to a good start. When, in addition, the index has an explanatory label stating that "the page numbering is skewed by 4 numbers after page 47 due to a technical glitch," I feel the author's pain. 

Nevertheless, Ms. Kyles, who taught the history of Ontario architecture at Mohawk College for over 30 years, has achieved an incredible feat: a portrayal of Ontario's buildings from First Nations to the twenty-first century, with numerous illustrations of each style. Everything is here, including Georgian, Gothic Revival, Italianate, Queen Anne, Second Empire, Beaux Arts, Art Deco, and Gumdrop. (Yes, Gumdrop. It's a thing.) She also covers mills, factories, and apartments. And she explains, much to my joy, that our buildings are "part of a trend, are part of a more cohesive picture, and are definitely worth the effort of saving" (p. ii). 

London's Central Cat Clinic, Museum London, "New" Court House, and Central Library are among the book's local illustrations, as are numerous older London houses. There are no addresses for the homes, which preserves owner privacy, but prevents me from visiting and admiring them myself. (Darn.) Interestingly, band-shell porches are described as veranda "circular areas." Is the author unfamiliar with "band-shell?" Is it a London term?

Finally, music to my ears: "Many studies prove that restored windows fitted with proper storms are as energy efficient as any new window, but most people are not aware of this ... New windows will need to be replaced every 10 to 30 years ... No part of new windows is recyclable. Why are we doing this?" (p. iv). Why indeed? 

With beautiful colour photos and commentary on every imaginable topic from an abacus tile to wooden sticks, Kyles' book may just be the new "bible" of Ontario architecture. Any mistakes can be fixed in a second edition, which the book deserves. Check out the author's website here.

Mike Baker, et al, Ed Phelps: Son, Brother, Historian & Friend. The Aylmer Express Limited, 2025. 124 pages. Note: This book has been printed in a limited edition. London Public Library may be your best option.

Numerous authors have contributed their memories of Edward Phelps (1939-2006) to this tribute volume.  I know many of the authors and have heard them talk about Ed. Since I never knew Ed myself, having arrived on the local history scene too late to meet him, this book has enlightened me. The London librarian and archivist was a legend in his own time.

In about 1971, Ed was appointed Librarian-in-Charge at the Regional Collection, D. B. Weldon Library, U.W.O. Until his retirement in 1994, Ed was relentless in searching for, buying, trading, selling, and donating historical material to the collection. Not only did he have a shrewd eye for historical materials worthy of archival preservation, but he was willing to haunt antique shows and flea markets, even plough through garbage, to find them. Contributor Theresa Regnier tells us he referred to his station wagon as "The Rolling Barn" since it was always full of "stuff" he'd picked up. John Lutman states Ed "was of the hunter-gatherer mode of archivist." 

By these methods, Ed rescued large portions of southwestern Ontario's history from flames, landfills, and more distant archives. Those of us who have researched local history in the Regional Collection (now Western Archives and Special Collections) have used the materials, although some have been transferred elsewhere since. I'm grateful to have had access to such a collection.

But Ed also helped dozens of area writers and historians, giving them work and breaks to start their careers. He founded Phelps Publishing Company to print books that might not have been produced otherwise, including a few on my own shelf. He reprinted numerous historical county atlases, allowing many people to own a copy who would never find - or be able to afford - one of the falling-apart originals. His contributions to Southwestern Ontario history are too many to list here.

Ed left varied impressions. Norman R. Ball remembers Ed as "a rebel, a reputation he cultivated." Gord Russell remembers receiving mail from Ed "on bizarre materials, including the lid of a KFC bucket, or Kellogg's Cereal box," affixed with the appropriate postage. "Ed truly cared about people," writes Steve Peters. According to Sheila Johnson, the parties at his home on Bruce Street were "epic, and attracted a wonderful mixture of folks united by their love of history." Herman Goodden remarks on Ed's slovenly appearance: "My publisher-to-be looked more like a down-at-the-heels plumber than a librarian." But there was a dark side. "His intelligence," writes Mr. Lutman, "was combined with a serious lack of judgement, which got him into trouble. He died an unfortunate death, which shocked us all." 

Thanks to this book, I know just what I missed out on by never meeting Ed. My own work, had he supervised it, would no doubt be better. Heck, he might have published it. I missed the parties, the scavenging expeditions, the garbage mail. But I now feel like I've met Ed Phelps. And I feel his loss.

Affordable Housing: Suggestions for a Responsible City

York Developments plans a 30-storey apartment building for the northeast corner of Ridout and Kent. Their development would replace the above 30-unit rental building at 550 Ridout Street North and three buildings on Kent Street that are over 120 years old. The latter apparently don't have enough architectural or historical significance to merit saving. London's City Council has passed the proposed development 11 to 4, with only Councillors Hopkins, Trosow, Rahman, and Ferreira voting against. Remember this at election time.

Those in favour of the development argue that it meets London's number one planning goal, to build high-density residential buildings downtown. I do support that goal, since we need to prevent urban sprawl and bring people back to the core.  

But there are numerous problems here, beyond the loss of the three older buildings. First, this is a poor fit for the neighbourhood and is sure to increase traffic on older, narrow streets. Call me a pessimist, but next thing you know, more housing will need to come down to widen our roads.

Second, the development runs counter to planning rules by exceeding the site's height and density limits. This spot is just outside the downtown planning district (literally across the street), where the tallest buildings are permitted. City staffers suggested an 18-storey building for this site, in agreement with the current zoning. In my opinion, an 18-storey tower here would still be in the wrong place, but at least at that height, the city wouldn't be breaking its own rules, and our city planners would be heeded.

Then there's the fact that the apartments at 550 Ridout constitute affordable housing. It now appears that low-income Londoners are being displaced for developer profit. Oh, and developer buddies on council can congratulate themselves on providing intensification.  This project is not housing policy; it's developer greed.

As a rebuttal (or PR move) to the affordable housing argument, York Developments stated it will either help the displaced tenants from 550 Ridout move or assist them in locating another apartment. Councillor David Ferreira responded, and I agree, that York should offer the tenants a spot in the new building for the same rent. (Except where do they go in the meantime?) And no matter what warm, fuzzy solution York suggests, the city doesn't have the power to enforce it. 

Three recommendations to prevent this from happening again:

1. As Councillor Skylar Franke points out, London needs a tenant assistance and relocation plan similar to that of Toronto. A responsible city helps displaced tenants move, if it can't prevent their displacement to begin with. We also need rent gap payments to cover higher rents if tenants can't find an affordable unit elsewhere. 

2. Council must heed city staff recommendations. When staff recommend refusing a zoning change because the proposed highrise is too tall and incompatible with adjacent heritage-listed buildings, City Council should vote no to the project. Otherwise, why do we have a planning department?

3. As I've explained before, we need to develop the downtown surface parking lots. While the city can't force the owners of the lots to sell, it could certainly pressure them. We also need to convert more of our vacant buildings into affordable housing, as I've pointed out here. 

Without the above, London appears uncaring, irresponsible, and governed by developers and their toadies. 

Come to Attic Books for London collectibles!

This post features collectibles from London's very own Attic Books. All these - and others - are available on our second floor.* Come upstairs, take a look, and say hello.

As early as about 1861, Daniel Simmons Perrin established a bakery on Hamilton Road.** By 1881, the firm of D. S. Perrin & Co. operated on the north side of Dundas between Ridout and Talbot. Later, in 1926, the company was bought by Canada Biscuit Company. Once upon a time, this tin was filled with delicious treats.

No London bottle collection would be complete without Labatt's. Arguably, the company is nearly as old as the city itself. It was in 1827 that John Balkwill built the first brewery in the new settlement, near the southwest corner of Simcoe and Richmond streets. The company went through a number of partnerships before John Kinder Labatt assumed full ownership in 1855. The rest is history.

In 1886, William Gorman, David Dyson, and Richard Eckert formed Gorman, Dyson and Co.'s Forest City Spice Mills on Talbot Street. Later, the firm became  Gorman, Eckert & Co. The company became Club House Foods in 1969.

The mug below is not an ancient artifact. I can remember eating at The Garage in the 1980s when I first arrived in London as a teenager. Who can forget the car in the dining room! The restaurant was located on King between Ridout and Talbot. 

Wishing Well drinks were produced by National Dry, Ltd., at 303-309 Richmond Street near Bathurst, from the 1930s to the 1970s. The water used to make beverages came from a spring near Komoka on the Thames River, hence "Wishing Well."*** 

Reverse side of the above, showing all W.W.'s tempting flavours:

Hmm. Not familiar with Woodlond Beverages. The name seems to be a combination of Woodstock and London. According to this, the company was located at 39 Metcalfe Street, Woodstock, in 1954.

This furrier was at 155 Central Avenue in the 1950s. I wonder why they used thermometers as promotional items? Perhaps when the outdoor temperature reached a certain point in spring, ladies knew it was time to store their furs?

Who wouldn't want a London Free Press ashtray? This souvenir dates to 1965, when the newspaper began operating from the York Street plant featured at centre. The building was demolished in 2024.

The top of a London Pure Milk Company bottle. The company, located at 561 Dundas, was known for its neon cow sign.

Miniature shoes in bone china were once all the rage. This one celebrates Dundas Centre Methodist Church, built in 1895 at Dundas and Maitland streets. In 1925, it became Dundas Centre United.

A dish from the swanky Hotel London that once stood on the southeast corner of Dundas and Wellington streets. The premier place for banquets and conferences for decades, it was demolished in 1972 to make way for the City Centre building.

An ashtray from "Z" Lunch at 244 Dundas Street. Named after the zig-zag track lighting on its ceiling. I kid you not.

Jackson The Cleaner, once located on the southeast corner of Richmond and Pall Mall, in a building now a restaurant. Even had a fleet of its own pick up and delivery vehicles; see here.

The Tecumseh House, once the largest hotel in British North America, opened on the southwest corner of York and Richmond on December 27, 1858. After accommodating everyone from travelling salesmen to the Prince of Wales, it ceased operations in 1929 when its rooms were outdated, and prohibition had shut down its bar.  This proud sponsor of the London Tecumsehs baseball team was demolished in 1930, but its tableware survives.

Once, even hospitals had their own charming crockery:

The example below came from a very specialized hospital, the "San." Today's young people, fortunately for them, may not know what a sanatorium was, but once, these tuberculosis treatment centres were everywhere. The Queen Alexandra Sanatorium, named after the consort of King Edward VII, opened on the west side of Sanatorium Road in April 1910. Renamed the Beck Memorial Sanatorium in 1949, it became the Children's Psychiatric Research Institute (CPRI) in 1960 and the Child and Parent Resource Institute in 1992.

It was on September 8, 1877, that John Smallman and Lemuel Ingram opened their dry goods store on Dundas between Richmond and Market Lane. By 1908, the business was so successful that it opened a new five-storey building on the site, the largest department store in southwestern Ontario. Fun fact: The first transatlantic phone call between London, Ontario, and London, England was on the morning of April 12, 1928, when Gordon Ingram of S&I chatted with his UK rep. 

The first Standard Drug store opened on the north side of Dundas between Clarence and Wellington in 1913. Later, a second location opened on the east side of Richmond between King and York. I had to look up "Aromatic Cascara." Turns out it's a laxative. Well, if you need one, there's still a bit of it in this old bottle. (Yuck.)

Attic now sells cameras, usually of the antique film variety. Many are usable, some will only make interesting conversation pieces. In the usable department (complete with photographer's reflection) is this Rollieflex 3.5 MX-EV camera, ca. 1954, with its original lens cap and case. Our camera expert, Maggie, works Wednesdays, and, yes, she also buys.

There are also old photos, although most are not of this vintage. This dapper young man from the 1860s was photographed by the ambrotype process, a cheaper version of the daguerreotype. While he and his photographer are unknown, the gutta-percha case states it was manufactured by Littlefield, Parsons, and Co. The decoration on the case's front is patriotically Civil War era American,  portraying a camp scene with a tent, U.S. flag, and cannon.

* The items run from $3 to $650.

** Much of the history in this post comes from Daniel J. Brock, Fragments From The Forks: London Ontario's Legacy. London & Middlesex Historical Society, 2011.

*** https://www.facebook.com/vintagelondon/photos/a.702942309832069/2792658390860440/?id=256233541169617

Wrecking a Restaurant: The Fate of Crossings ... oops, Pierside

Crossings Pub, one of the few buildings in Hyde Park with any character. Photo by Paul Grabowski.

If you enjoy Crossings, you'd better get there while it's still open. 

The pub at 1269 Hyde Park Road may be demolished by North Development Corp. to make way for a new restaurant and two apartment buildings. See here for an artist's rendering of the proposed development.

The Italianate farmhouse was built in about 1872 by George Nixon. Local folklore says John A. MacDonald used to stay here when visiting the area. While that story sounds like something dreamt up one night after too many pints at the bar, Nixon was a politician, which makes the rumour a bit more plausible. Unfortunately, there's no proof. 

According to Crossings' website, the building became a stationhouse for local train and stagecoach lines. More recently, in 1977, John and Winnifred Kamen converted the home into a restaurant called The Horse & Hound. Later, it became Volker's, and lately it's been Crossings. The building probably holds many fond memories for locals. 

But you know how it is. The property is on a transit corridor, the area is underdeveloped, and we need density. And, gosh, according to this, developer Paul Weigel says he'll "salvage materials to add plaques and storyboard murals framed by the bricks and building trim attached to the parking garage along a public trail next to the rail track." (This tendency to preserve a few bricks to satisfy silly history buffs like myself is also planned by York Developments for Kent Brewery downtown.)  If we're really lucky, maybe Mr. Weigel will hang a lovely painting of the old house in the lobby of one of his apartment buildings. 

A little changed from its original appearance, Crossings still has Victorian charm. (The proposed development, you will note, has no charm whatsoever.) The pub is also one of the few older buildings remaining in Hyde Park, a neighbourhood that bears little resemblance to the quaint country intersection of yesteryear. And Crossings isn't even falling down, so the phrase developers always like to use - "It's too dilapidated to be saved" - doesn't apply here. 

City Hall staff weren't interested in the development and recommended heritage designation for the old house. The city report states the property has three of the nine criteria needed for designation. Unfortunately, City Councillors don't always listen to staff, and on Wednesday afternoon, PEC (Councillors Steve Lehman, Shawn Lewis, Peter Cuddy, Elizabeth Peloza, and Steve Hillier) voted to refuse the heritage designation. Later in the meeting, they voted for rezoning to permit two high-rises. 

My first thought: If this new development is to include a restaurant, how about using the restaurant that's already there - Crossings - and incorporating it into the plan? Of course, the stately mansion would look ridiculous surrounded by high-rises, but as we say in the heritage world, "It's better than tearing it down."

Then I found the Heritage Impact Statement prepared by Stantec for the developer. If you wade through it to the end, you'll learn that they, too, believe Crossings has CHVI (Cultural Heritage Value or Interest). The building is a representative example of an Italianate residence and possesses value as a landmark. Unfortunately, the report also states the home is in the way of the development's proposed fire route and parking area.

One solution might be to move the old house closer to the road, so it's not surrounded by the high-rises and still serves as a landmark. But according to the Stantec report, this would mean moving the building twice: once to a place where it's not impacted by the underground parking, and a second time closer to Hyde Park Road. There's also the question of whether the underground parking garage could support the weight of the former residence. 

Altogether, I wish North Development Corp. would just get lost. Or develop one of our downtown surface parking lots instead. While no demolition permit has yet been issued, the future of this old house looks iffy.  

Only one solution left: could a saviour please buy this old pub and move it to a lot nearby?

The George Nixon house, as it appears in a photo on p. 307 of London Township Families Past and Present, published by The London Township History Book Committee, 2001.

Advertisement from a local cookbook.

Update, November 2025: The restaurant is now closed. City Council voted 10-5 to deny heritage designation and approve demolition. Councilors voting against were Anna  Hopkins, Skylar Franke, David Ferreira, Elizabeth Peloza, and Sam Trosow. Remember this at our next election.

Update, April 2026: Surprise.

Another photo from Paul G.

You never know what will happen in London. Apparently a new pub, complete with patio, will open here just in time for warmer weather. Why? Because the developer has decided to put off his towers for a couple of years, "waiting for market conditions to align." 

Hmm. I thought we had a "housing crisis." The crisis seems to have disappeared as soon as the developer had permission to build. Will these towers ever be constructed? Who really knows? 

In the meantime, maybe I'll stop for a pint and get some pics. 

Development on Surface Parking Lots

A developer plans to build a 38-storey tower on the parking lot on the southeast corner of  York and Colborne streets. To see what that might look like, look here. Of course, the details may change. 

According to the Free Press story, the development proposal comes from "BSN London in collaboration with Siv-ik Planning and Design." I haven't heard of these folks before, and an online search hasn't revealed much about them. I don't know if they actually build anything or just talk about it, like another local developer who comes to mind. 

Many will say this is just another ugly tower on a podium. And that the proposal isn't in a great neighbourhood. "Location! Location! Location!" They might be right, but I still support this development.

Why? Because, for years, heritage preservationists such as myself have suggested developing the city's surface parking lots rather than knocking down heritage buildings. Just think! Here's a tower that could be built without folks like me complaining! Wouldn't that be refreshing? And, gosh, density, infill, and downtown revitalization! 

And it's about time. According to this CBC report, London has 29-30 acres of surface parking lots on 67 different sites. This is a huge waste of valuable real estate. And if we don't want to spread into our surrounding farmland, these sites should be developed. 

How are other cities doing? The Parking Reform Network has a series of maps showing how much land in major cities is taken up by parking lots. In Las Vegas, for example, 33% of the central city is off-street parking. New York City is 0.4%. OK, the maps are of American cities, but there's also a blog about parking reform lobbying in many communities internationally, including our very own Ottawa. The progressive trend is to develop parking lots. And London needs to be progressive. 

A Walk Through Askin Village

Another neighbourhood walk, this time in autumn when cooler days make strolling more comfortable. This time, I ventured into Old South, aka Wortley Village, that heritage-filled neighbourhood surrounding London's old Normal School, now the regional headquarters of the YMCA. 

In about 1832 or 1833, Col. J. B. Askin came here from Vittoria, Norfolk County to become the new Clerk of the District Court. A prominent resident,  he lived on a large estate in what was then Westminster Township. He and his family were among the first white settlers in the area, so it's not surprising to learn it was historically known as Askin Village.  

Nowadays, stop on any tree-shaded street in this neighbourhood and you'll find yourself admiring an old church or heritage home, and probably drawn into an interesting store, gallery or pub. I parked on Elmwood Avenue, one of my favourite Old South thoroughfares, and found ecclesiastical and domestic architecture right before my eyes. 

I stopped near one of Old South's fine old mansions, "Woodlawn," built for Col. Francis B. Leys in 1877. Once surrounded by extensive grounds, Leys' former home is now connected to Elmwood Avenue Presbyterian Church, built in 1926. The church takes good care of  the old home, using it as office and meeting space.* 

 

Across the street from the church complex are some interesting homes, including this Queen Anne cottage with a charming verandah, gable trim, and stained glass in a front window.

And this charmer in white and black, next door, is another Queen Anne cottage built in the 1890s.

Farther west, I see some unusual windows in this attic. If you know the name of the ones on the right,  please let me know, as I don't think I've seen that formation elsewhere.

Here's a welcoming verandah with an unusual oval window:

Interesting brackets and trim:

The corner of Elmwood and Edward has some of the most remarkable homes in "the village," if not the city. Below, hiding behind one of the stately trees on the property, is the boyhood home of Canadian novelist, screenwriter, and poet Arthur Stringer (1874-1950). Built in the 1880s, the home has stone window headings, a two-storey bay window, arched windows, and a decorative brick string course. I seem to have arrived too late for a garden party.

Across the street, behind a picket fence, is an 1879 Victorian Gothic gem. Designed by the architectural firm of Craddock & Weekes, the house has a high-pitched cross gable roof, possibly the best bargeboards in the city, paired semi-circular-headed upper windows with a shutter each, and a gingerbread-covered verandah around three sides. Designated under the Ontario Heritage Act, this home's blue plaque is visible just to the left of the front door.

The third magnificent home at this intersection was built ca. 1894-5 for Robert D. Millar, Secretary Treasurer of the London Advertiser newspaper. Not even in Old South do most houses have an open porch at the top of a square tower from which one can survey the whole neighbourhood. This house is oriented towards the corner to appear welcoming from more than one direction. Best of all is the band shell verandah, likely added a few years after the house was built. 

Continuing north on Edward Street, I passed by the Elmwood Lawn Bowling Club. Yes, tucked in behind the houses at 17 1/2 Edward is this club dedicated to the quaint sport of lawn bowling. How appropriate for such an old-fashioned neighbourhood.

To the north, on the same side of the street, is a group of houses apparently built at the same time, judging by their similar size and style:

Here's a close-up of the one painted in my favourite colour scheme of blue and white. Note the fish-scale gable infill.

Peeking from behind the trees is No. 16 Edward, a cottage with a mansard roof, polychrome brickwork, and a magnificent double front door.  

I turned onto Bruce Street, named after the family name of the Earl of Elgin, Governor General of the Province of Canada 1847-1854. He's also, of course, the guy Elgin and Bruce counties are named after, as well as the intersection north of London called Elginfield, and numerous streets around the province. 

So many lovely homes on Bruce. Where does one begin? I'll just mention one. No. 91 has recently been restored with a 3,000 square foot extension built at the rear. The project, which won owners Charlie and Jodi Younger a London Heritage Award in 2024,** shows that a home can be modernized to 21st-century standards while keeping its original facade. 

Next, I turned onto Teresa Street. This and nearby Cynthia Street are believed to have been named after Col. Askin's daughters. I passed by Wesley Knox United Church at 91 Askin Street, built in 1880 as Askin Street Methodist. This church had a spire until it was struck by lightning in 1918. The current church name resulted from the union of Wesley and Knox United Churches in 1972.***

Across the street to the west is a magnificent home with beautiful blue and cream trim:

Even the flower baskets match the verandah.

Across the street to the north of the church is this attractive example of terrace housing. Each unit has a bay window, the end ones having an extra bay window in the end walls. Beautiful dichromatic brick. Gotta love those blue doors. 

A neat and traditional-looking white brick on Teresa Street. Note the trim in the gable and the iron work above the front porch.

An adorable pale yellow cottage with a quaint porch. Note ACO London's historical house sign.

Nearby on Byron Avenue is another simple Ontario cottage with a side-hall plan and ornate front door:

Also on Byron is the Thomas Westcott House, built in 1881. Note the brackets, bay window, and round arched window on the west wall.

Nos. 99-101 Byron Avenue is a well-proportioned double house, likely from a fairly early period.

Lurking behind this vegetation is Wortley Cottage, built by Samuel Sexton Pomroy in 1851. Originally a one-storey frame building, it was converted to a two-storey structure in the 1870s. Before trees and other buildings were built in front, the owners must have had a magnificent view of the Thames River. 

A nearby sidewalk on Wortley Road:

In Old South, even a child's playhouse needs to have a heritage look:

Walking south on Wortley, I notice the houses on the west side:

On the east side are cottages like this well-preserved example with a round window in the gable:

I also see some infill. Is this the narrowest (new) house in London? It certainly shows what can be done with a narrow lot.

The building below recently featured a condo for sale at the breathtaking price of $2,597,000. The pictures look charming, but I'm afraid I couldn't snap it up. 

Below is the new Black Walnut, looking much like the earlier building destroyed by arson in 2023. The finished building will fit nicely into the old-time ambiance of Wortley Village. 

Stopped for a pint and snack at Sweet Onion Bistro, southwest corner of Wortley Road and Askin Street. This building started out as a home and later became a Supertest service station. Love the barge boards, finials, and pendants painted a bold red. 

Behind, on Askin Street, is St. James Westminster, an Anglican Church designed by the London architectural firm Robinson and Tracey in the Gothic style. 

Of interest is the church's memorial garden:

Back on Bruce Street, east of Wortley, is the former Fire Station No. 3, built of polychrome brick with round-arched paired windows. The tower, now sporting a satellite dish, was used to hang the fire hose for drying. 

Nearby Marley Place is traditionally one of my favourite streets in London, having much historic and architectural interest. Unfortunately, it's not looking as good as it used to. No. 10, for example, is a large, stately Italianate structure built ca. 1866, but it's now looking run-down. There are plans to build about eight stacked townhomes on this property, and the house itself will be renovated into rental units. See here. While this is considered a success story for heritage, I'm reserving judgement until I see the finished project. Too often, "rescued" buildings are too changed for my taste. 

15 1/2 Marley is said to be the narrowest house in London, unless 104 Wortley above is even narrower. While this dollhouse cottage is certainly narrow, it extends a long way back, so that it's not all that small. I'm disappointed to see a newer metal roof, looking out of place next to the adorable trim on the porch, bay window, and gable.

A nearby mansion is under repair. Hopefully, the renovations will be appropriate.

Some pseudo-Victorian infill, appropriate for the neighbourhood. I'm fine with this, unless a genuine oldie was torn down to build it. 

Across the street is the William Moore House at 16 Marley Place. Love the gables, barge boards, bay windows with cresting, and verandah fretwork. Not to mention the attractive colour scheme. So well done!

Nearby is the magnificent Normal School, built in 1899 in the Richardsonian Romanesque style. 

Postcard view of the Normal School ca. 1905. (Warwick Bros. & Rutter, Toronto) Author's collection.

Addition at the rear may be disliked by some purists, but I have no problem with glass additions, so long as the main building isn't spoiled. It isn't.  

Houses around "the Green" were often owned by teachers at the Normal School. Dr. John Dearness, for example,  lived at No. 30 below:

One of my favourite homes anywhere is No. 44 Marley Place, possibly built as early as 1865 in frame but later stuccoed. The doorway is a masterpiece. 

Now I'm back on Elmwood. But before I leave, I'm going to stroll east towards Ridout and peek at another one of my favourite houses, no. 194. I can't resist admiring any home with a tower. But there's also a massive round-arched entrance porch and an oriel with shingle facing. Another sturdy-looking Romanesque Revival.

Across the street is an Italianate built by local architect George F. Durand. Most will note the ornate trim in the gable, but the keystones and decorative brick below the eaves are also worth notice. Note the blue heritage plaque.

I'll end with 198 Elmwood, built in the 1850s and originally facing Ridout Street. In 1905, when it was still frame, it was turned to face Elmwood. What a stately entrance. Note another heritage designation.

On my way back to my vehicle, I passed this ... and I have to say that I like the style, but don't like it in Old South. 

And, of course, there's this, which is inevitable, everywhere. What a pity.

* If you find church history dry-as-dust, skip this footnote. Otherwise, you may be interested in the fact that Col. Leys (ca. 1838-1905) was instrumental in convincing London Presbyterians to establish a mission church in south London. In the 1880s, Presbyterians chose a site at the corner of Wortley Road and Bruce Street where Knox Church was built. When Knox chose to join the United Church of Canada in 1925, some members of the congregation wished to remain Presbyterian and broke away. Hence, the existence of Elmwood Presbyterian. As for Woodlawn, it was still a private home in 1925, having being purchased by Frank Sloan at some point. The Elmwood congregation bought the estate from Sloan. Details here.

** The 17th Annual London Heritage Awards were held at Museum London, April 11, 2024, presented by ACO London and Heritage London Foundation. The Youngers won a Restoration Project award. 

*** More church history here. Originally, this site had a frame church facing Teresa Street. Dedicated in 1875, its name was New Brighton Methodist, "New Brighton" being yet another name for the expanding suburb south of London. As the congregation grew, it became necessary to build a larger structure, so, in 1881, the present church was completed facing Askin Street and renamed Askin Street Methodist. The frame church was used as a Sunday School. 

Meanwhile, in 1882, Presbyterian families in South London expressed a need for religious services in the area. In 1883, funds were raised and a site was chosen on the corner of Wortley Road and Bruce Street. In September 1884, a dedication service was held for Knox Presbyterian Church. 

With church union in 1925, Askin Street Methodist was renamed Wesley United, and Knox Presbyterian was renamed Knox United. In 1972, Knox United and Wesley United amalgamated to form one church named Wesley-Knox United. More here.