Public baths opened in Bermondsey in 1927 – ‘a palace of marble and stained glass’ – the media thought it a waste of money but local people absolutely loved it!

This is a tale of mystery and intrigue. Let me explain.

Bermondsey resident Arthur Burgess lived on St James’s Road, next door to The Sultan pub. Throughout his life, he kept diaries, two of which I have the privilege of owning. They detail all the comings and goings of everyday life in Bermondsey in the 1920s.

In one entry, he is filled with admiration for the Bermondsey Central Baths on Grange Road, which were opened in 1927. Arthur’s diary reflects his admiration for this new structure, put up and paid for by Bermondsey Borough Council. He commented that it is “a palace of marble and stained glass. It beats all others”.

Despite being fatally ill, Arthur managed to walk down to the sparkling new baths on Grange Road. His diary entry from 27 September 1927, a short while after the official opening, is a precious fragment of time.

Arthur Burgess ©Debra Gosling

The baths had a ballroom, a cinema, refreshments, exhibitions and piano recitals. There were pram sheds and, in later years, kids’ shows put on by the Labour Party, where boards covered the water and chairs were put on top. They must have been strong boards with all those happy kids singing along to pantomime songs and jumping up and down on them!

The council wanted only the best materials used for this wondrous palace of clean. The baths were lined with Marbello, a man-made marble. All the fittings were teak and brass – and it was imperative that no less than 75% of the unskilled labour came from the Bermondsey and Rotherhithe labour exchange.

There were two huge stained glass windows that looked down on the swimming baths; one was an aquatic scene and the other featured a galleon.

Second class pool ©Southwark Archives

At the time of opening, there was much criticism by the media of Bermondsey Borough Council wasting money. Yet, I think Arthur gives us the real story – these high-tech, luxurious baths were very much appreciated by the residents.

A regular user of the baths recalls her experience of bathing there in the late 1940s; of lavender-scented steam clouds and the luxurious warm water, with more upon request. A real treat from the arduous task of filling and emptying a tin bath at home.

Bermondsey Central Baths ©Southwark Archives

In 1956, an “Aeratone” Therapeutic Bath was installed, which eased symptoms of arthritis, lumbago, fibrositis, high blood pressure and depression.

Besides personal health and hygiene, the baths also had washing machines, so an army of housewives would arrive with prams loaded up with laundry bundles. This was a time before domestic washing machines, where laundry was done on a scrubbing board with a bar of Sunlight and plenty of elbow grease, so the baths were a real luxury.

It was quite the social scene where gossip could be exchanged while socks and shirts tumbled away. The soap powder provided was that nose-tingling Parazone.

Stained glass also adorned the Turkish baths and around the doors of the entrance and lobby. My friend Pauline remembers those stained glass windows, remarking how beautiful it all was – and also the stern attendant standing at the exit with her hand open, waiting for the soap to be returned!

Arthur’s diary entry got me started: what happened to those windows after the baths’ demolition? I went on a seeking mission.

The beautiful half-moon aquatic scene featured here is now in an old people’s home in Dulwich. It is fantastic but, try as I might, I’ve failed to discover who the artist was, only that William Morris Ltd of Westminster installed it. This was not the William Morris of Arts and Crafts fame but a small family company.

Whoever did design them had a poetical air about them; the fish virtually swim to you out of the glass in sinuous grace. There are bubbles, seaweed and a wonderful aquatic palette.

The other half-moon window, that of a galleon, has disappeared, despite my enquiring with what seems like a thousand different agencies. It can be seen in the photo which was taken as the baths were being completed.

It did not get damaged during the war and was in situ until it was all dismantled (due to rust from all that steam apparently). It is about thirty feet across.

Where is it?

Currently, I wander around the public buildings of Southwark in the hope of finding this missing piece of the jigsaw.

If someone knows its whereabouts, please put me out of my misery!

https://southwarknews.co.uk/history/history-plus/broken-biscuits-and-paternalistic-capitalism-was-the-bermondsey-biscuit-factory-a-workers-paradise-or-is-the-truth-less-sweet/