Historic London Pubcast

Kennington’s Madcap Pubs - Who Let the Dogs Out?

• Eric Blair • Season 1 • Episode 52

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Kennington. There’s nothing beige about pub history in this part of London. Today we kick back the saloon doors of Kennington, where pubs aren’t just buildings, they’re characters with backstories, secrets, and a scattering of taxidermy. 

We’ll stumble through boozers that once stared straight at Bedlam, meet a pub magician who almost flambéed a flock of pigeons, and uncover how Charlie Chaplin’s dad made pubs his stage and possibly inspired Chaplin’s signature little tramp walk.

Expect Tudor urinals, circus origins, and a pub fight scene fit for Hollywood. It’s London history—unfiltered, slightly unhinged, and best served with a running commentary.

Cheers to the weird, the wobbly, and the wonderfully baronial.  

Website: https://historiclondonpubcast.com

E-mail: hosteric@historiclondonpubcast.com

Welcome back to The Historic London Pubcast brave wanderers and lovers of liquid history!

This is Podcast Producer, Andy Meddick. Today, we're letting the dogs out in Kennington, the south-of-the-river country retreat turned busy London suburb where the ghosts wear stovepipe hats, pubs rise from the ashes of gentrification, and Charlie Chaplin, like many of us young lads got sent to fetch his Dad from many a riverside tavern. 

We’re starting at The Tankard, where patrons once toasted directly across from actual Bedlam. That’s right, actual Bedlam — because why sip your porter in peace when you can do it next to 19th-century psychological chaos?

Then we trot over to The Black Prince, where chivalry is dead, but the burgundy flock wallpaper lives on like your nan’s best sofa. There's a magician. There's a fire. There are pigeons. Honestly, there’s a lot going on.

Next stop: The Dog House. Ironically probably one of the pubs Charlie Chaplin’s Dad was pulled from before retreating home, tail between his legs to be put back in the dog house by Mum. Today this pub that looks like David Attenborough redecorated a Natural History Museum after downing six IPAs. Taxidermy? Check. Board games? Check. Vibes? Immaculate.

We’ll finish strong with pubs so drenched in heritage you’ll need a mop. Royal conjurers. Tudor beams. Gangsters. Kingsman fight scenes. Did I mention pétanque? Yes, French lawn bowling, because that’s what they do south of the river.

So, buckle up, buttercup. This isn’t just a pub crawl — it’s a 175-year-old fever dream in sensible shoes. Our Host & Guide, Eric Blair awaits with more historical hot takes than a Tudor cookout.

Let’s talk a step through time. Eric?

Today we're in Kennington, south of the river and basically right across from Westminster. This has been prized real estate for a while, but we'll get to that. Let's first start with the pub, shall we? We're in the northern part of our ramble today, and we'll begin with The Tankard at 11 Kennington Road. Records show The Tankard operating here in 1825.

pubwiki.co.uk shows a photo of The Tankard from around 1880, with men in stovepipe hats  standing out in front. It almost looks like those pictures you see of Lincoln and his generals in about 1899. A couple, Horace and Rose Ebdon, took over running the place. I tell this because I'm always interested in how being a publican seems to run in the blood.

Rose's father ran The Red Bull in Peckham in the 1880s, and Horace, his brother, ran a pub in Brighton. Rose lost Horace and continued on a bit, but passed on the baton in 1911. The line of publicans continued, including in 1932, a man named Frank Pass, who had a bit of unusual cred. He was born in The King of Prussia pub in 1896. Now that's a pub man from day one. 

By 1951 The Tankard was a Charrington pub. At that point all seemed the same, but change was in the future. Sometime in the second half of the 20th century the pub lost its original name, becoming The Grand Union and then The Bar Room Bar. Sad. But in 2017, the Draft House chain took ownership, and the pub became once again The Tankard.

Yay! But then the pub was shut down in 2024, with management citing poor margins as a reason. Someone needed to step up here and that's what happened. A fellow named Bruno, who owned a pub in Wapping, decided to give it a try and the pub reopened in 2025. Good luck Bruno. 

The pub offers a fresh, airy interior including warm wood floors, thoughtful lighting and contemporary touches while fitting seamlessly into the Victorian heritage. Up on the first-floor terrace, there's a generously sized outdoor space with views of scenic charm that's hard to beat in South London. It strikes a lovely balance between inviting comfort and a sense of local history. A genuinely unpretentious pub where visitors and regulars alike feel right at home. 

I know pub fans ears might have perked up when I mention two phrases just now. Scenic charm and local history. The Tankard has both of these. Let's first talk about scenic charm, and for that we have to go back a bit. From its early days in the second decade of the 1800s and continuing on for more than a century, The Tankard looked out across the street at one of London's most remarkable institutions, Bethlem Royal Hospital.

Bethlem’s story goes back to 1247, when it began as a charitable priory just outside the city walls in Bishopsgate. By the 1400s it was primarily caring for people with mental illnesses, an early and rare commitment to such care in medieval Europe. In 1676, the hospital moved to a grand new building in north London designed to accommodate more patients.

But as it grew so did the public's fascination, sometimes uncomfortably so. Sadly, visitors actually came to watch the patients as a form of entertainment. And from this period, the hospital's nickname, Bedlam entered the language as a byword for chaos and disorder. By 1815, Bedlam relocated again, this time south of the river to Saint George's Fields in Lambeth, directly opposite where The Tankard would soon take root.

For the next 100 years, anyone raising a glass in the pub could glance outside and see the daily life of a hospital beyond the high walls. Staff arriving for their shifts. Families visiting loved ones. Patients walking in the gardens. In 1930, Bedlam left Lambeth for a modern site ten miles south in Bellingham, and its old building across from The Tankard found new purpose as the Imperial War Museum.

The museum is one of London's leading attractions, drawing visitors from around the world to explore the history and impact of modern warfare. Now for local history, the area was once the heart of London's music hall world. Lively taverns along Kennington Road drew in performers and patrons alike. This happening place was also a where soon to be silent film superstar Charlie Chaplin grew up.

The local law has it that a young Charlie was sent to The Tankard. and probably others, by his mother, to fetch his father, a music hall singer. Charlie was an observant lad, and the regulars left an imprint on Charlie's trademark slapstick character. Seems to make sense. Think about the way the little tramp wobbled as he walked. Not so different from a well lubricated fellow, right?

So, lot to like about The Tankard now that it seems to be in good hands. And as we leave The Tankard, it's worth noting that just over in Lambeth, only about a 15-minute stroll from here, the modern circus was born. In 1768, a cavalryman named Philip Astley set up an open-air riding ring near Westminster Bridge. He discovered that by arranging his horse tricks inside a circle, the centripetal force helped him balance, and that small flash of geometry gave us the circus ring still used today. 

Astley, of course, didn't stop at horses. He began adding acrobats, jugglers, clowns, even a band to keep things lively. What started out as one man's equestrian acts soon grew into a full-blown spectacle that Londoners couldn't get enough of. His amphitheater packed them in and the formula spread quickly across Europe. So, in a sense, the global circus tradition really does trace back to a Lambeth horseman with a flair for showmanship.

So, from Chaplin's waddling tramp to Astley's tumbling clowns, this corner of London has always had a flair for performance. But enough of the stage and sawdust. Let's get back to the pubs. And our next pub is a little over a mile away, so walk briskly now. We're going to The Black Prince at where else? Six Black Prince Road.

Now The Black Prince is kind of a cool name, don't you think? Who was that guy? Well, he was Edward of Woodstock, the eldest son of Edward III and the great military hope of England. Born in 1330, he carved out his reputation young, leading troops at Searcy when he was just 16 and capturing the French King at Poitiers.

A decade later, to his contemporaries, he embodied knightly chivalry. Though later generations remembered him as The Black Prince, a nickname that may have referred to either his dark armor or his ruthless campaigns. Despite his victories, he never wore a crown, dying of illness in 1376 at just age 46 and leaving the throne to his son Richard II.

One of his favorite London homes was in Kennington. Granted the right to build there, Edward constructed a substantial residence, Kennington Manor, sometimes called Kennington Palace. It stood just south of the Thames, close to Westminster, but in what was then countryside. For a time, it was a genuine royal base hall, chambers, gardens and a seat from which the prince could live in semi regal style.

His presence cemented Kennington’s royal character, which still lingers in local names like Black Prince Road and the pub that carries his title. The palace outlasted him, passing through royal hands for two centuries. But by the 16th century Henry VIII was in his great rebuilding phase, sweeping away older residences as he concentrated court life at Whitehall and other palaces. Kennington was among the casualties. 

By the Tudor era it had fallen into disuse, its stones repurposed and its halls gone. So, there's nothing left of The Black Prince or his mansion, but he does have a street named after him, and the greatest honor of all. A pub with his name above the door. Relative to its namesake, the pub is just a youngster, going back to 1805.

Around 1848, the pub was run by Thomas Henry Evans, who was the father of a fellow who would become to be known as the Royal Conjurer for his performances before Queen Victoria and members of her family. That magician named after his father was Henry Evans, and he was also a ventriloquist and a humorist. Henry used the stage name of Evanon and had a successful career over fifty years performing in theaters and music halls in London and the English provinces, and at private functions.

He was a passionate collector who acquired around 5000 items relating to popular Victorian entertainment and daily life that is now in the British Library as the Evanon Collection. 

He was friends with Houdini, who said Evans spent nearly every spare hour at the British Museum collecting information about the history of magic. Supposedly as a young performer, he nearly set fire to the pub and the pigeons his father kept while performing a trick.

Today, the pub sits at the corner of Black Prince Road and Hotspur Street. Hotspur was the nickname of Sir Henry Percy. Percy was knighted by The Black Prince, his father Edward III, but eventually worked to depose The Black Prince's son Richard II from the throne. Supposedly, the Scots who fought against him gave him the name Hotspur as a tribute to his speed in advancing and readiness to attack.

A pretty good compliment coming from the fierce fighting Scots. So, if you're The Black Prince, I think maybe you'd say this about Hotspur, 

“Dad loved him, and sonny boy hated him, and I'll be damned, they named a street right next to mine after him.” 

And to that I'll only say, 

“Dear Prince, remember you got a pub.”

So, what about today's pub?

Pubs Galore reviews provide a couple of positive comments. If you like your pubs. Well, let's say not flashy, 

“A well-used local pub, old school decor, dark stained paneling and red and gold flock wallpaper.” 

and, 

“The interior is somewhat baronial, evocative of a chivalric age with much dark paneling, gold and burgundy patterned wallpaper above.”

I looked up baronial. It means grand, chivalric and somewhat gothic in atmosphere, often with dark wood paneling, heavy furnishings and rich colors like burgundy, gold and deep greens. Wow! Any pub described as baronial sounds like my kind of place. 

Some folks doing a blog of their time in the UK visited the pub and gave us this interesting tidbit, 

“The area around The Black Prince pub is comprised of many small brick buildings of flats which housed the staff of Buckingham Palace, a factoid compliments of a friendly chap we met at the pub.”

Thanks for that. And beyond that interesting fact it relays, this snippet attests to the friendly nature of the regulars. I like it. 

The Black Prince pub got its 15 minutes of fame a few years ago. It was the filming location of the pub fight scene in the 2014 film Kingsman The Secret Service. It has been a while since I watched this movie, but supposedly the name of the pub is visible in the film. It's on my list for rewatch. 

Okay, off again now, this time to a pub a little closer. The Dog House, 293 Kennington Road. The pub dates back to 1856 and exhibits a V-shaped footprint at a busy road junction. The pub was originally named The Roebuck and then it was changed to The Charlie Chaplin before finally becoming The Dog House. I'm not sure when that happened, but it has carried that name for at least the last two decades. 

There is not a lot of history about this pub, but I wanted to include it today because it was voted by readers of The Londonist, ‘The best pub in Kennington and The Oval’. Why? Well, it seems to have a certain welcoming ‘it factor’ for London.

This review says,

“The Dog House was immediately grin inducing, with its candlelit, wedge-shaped interior.”

Maybe this review from Pubs Galore helps us understand a bit more  the immediate effect the pub has on you, 

“There are bare boards underfoot, whilst the walls have countless things to admire, including stuffed animal heads, stuffed birds, African masks, a few pictures, pump clips and even a scorpion and a spider in a glass case. The Natural History Museum would be proud. To the rear is a real fire, actually lit with a rug around it, as well as some interesting lamps and some bird cages. A small table had some board games on it. There was further seating upstairs.”

This gentleman concluded his review with a simple, all-encompassing phrase,

“Lovely pub.”

So, this pub is 175 years old and is still able to bring a smile to your face the moment you enter.

Not bad. Not bad at all. 

Our next pub is only three minutes away, The King's Arms at 98 Kennington Lane. This pub goes back to 1825, but it was rebuilt in the 1930s and that gets all the good comments. It was done by the Brewery Watney Combe, Reid and Company and specifically by Albert Bloomfield, their in-house architect, from 1919 to 1940. He also designed The French House on Dean Street in Soho, and numerous other pubs and venues in the UK, all highly regarded. 

New wipers, times.com tells us,

“Bloomsfield’s buildings share many of the same design elements, most notably their extensive use of brick. Traditional materials were used to accentuate traditional designs, with Bloomfield clearly favoring the neo-Georgian architecture style rather than the more flamboyant Art Deco designs of the era.”

They further say,

“The exterior of The King's Arms is in near original condition.

So, with this nice exterior, what's it like inside? One Pubs Galore reviewer offers his observations, which I’ve summarized this way, 

“The pub has a broadly L-shaped layout, carpeted throughout and decorated in light blue and white color scheme with louvered blinds. Conventional furnishings are joined by a few barrel top tables. White mirrors from drinks companies and a row of sports trophies to add to the decor. There's also playful touches such as mock stadium signs - Elland Road, White Hart Lane, Celtic Park and cheeky mechanical theme plaques in the gents. Entertainment comes in the form of darts, a jukebox, multiple sports screens which at times can be left running unattended. The clientele were described as solidly local, mixed in age and generally in good spirits, creating a warm and lively atmosphere despite the occasional intrusion from the ever present sports broadcast.” 

I take that as a positive review, and I think Time Out would agree. They offer a short but sweet one sentence summary,

“One of the warmest local pubs in South London. All gregarious chat and cheap drinks manned by some of the friendliest bar staff this side of Bermondsey.”

Another reviewer describes this as,

“A family run pub, which is always nice. I certainly would give it a go.”

Now to our penultimate pub of the day, The Prince of Wales, at 59 Cleaver Square. CAMRA gives us a brief intro for this one, 

“Welcoming local pub situated in a well-preserved Georgian square close to Kennington.”

Thanks, CAMRA, but there's more to the story. The folks who live around the square are proud that they reside there. They have an active neighborhood group that works hard to promote its history. They've placed a signboard in the square, and here is some of the story it tells about Cleaver Square, 

“Squares were one of London's great inventions. In the 17th and 18th century, these neat patches of green ringed by houses became a hallmark of city life. Cleaver Square, laid out in 1789, was the very first of its kind south of the Thames. Before then, Kennington was still meadows and hedgerows, with just a scattering of farms, taverns and long-lost palace of The Black Prince. Bridges at Westminster and Blackfriars finally opened up the south side of the river and that's when development really began to stir. The square itself has pub roots. Mary Cleaver leased the land to Thomas Ellis, a landlord of Vaughan's Tavern on Kennington Common, and he set about building the terraces that still frame the square today. At its heart is Cleaver Square Garden, an open communal space where locals still gather. A place that still feels like a village green tucked into the city.” 

The full write up mentions The Prince of Wales coming along in 1901, but this is almost certainly a rebuild. The pub's history goes back much further. Records show it traded under the same name in the early 19th century, with some sources putting it open as far back as 1792.

Pub Wiki is a good source for licensing records of a large number of pubs in London, and I look at it for each pub we cover here. Just seeing all the folks listed that ran these pubs over the years kind of reinforces that. The historic pubs we enjoy today are the legacy that the folks of yesteryear worked hard to pass on to us.

For example, Mr. Joseph Perkins took the helm of this pub, The Prince of Wales in 1824 and ran it until he died in 1841. Then his wife Sarah continued on tour around 1848. All in all, that's about a quarter century that this couple devoted to the pub. I am sure Mr. and Mrs. Perkins would appreciate a kind thought as you enjoy your drink in the pub today. 

Reviewers describe a traditional interior, portraits on the wall of Churchill and WG Grace, the cricket legend we talked about in Episode 38. Judging by internet web pages, the pub seems to have changed hands a bit and was run at times by big players like Greene Kingand Shepherd Neame, but it's in The Black Dog pub group now and a free house. We're familiar with The Black Dog from their stewardship of The Mayflowerpub in Rotherhithe. Their company website states,

“By preserving the characteristics and rich history of these old pubs, the Black Dog Pub Company is insuring some of London's most unique pubs can continue to be enjoyed by their local communities and visitors from around the world.”

We know The Prince of Wales is in good hands. The pub website says that it was a watering hole for the notorious Richardson Gang in the 1960s. The Nell Gwynne in Covent Garden also claims the Richardsons as frequent patrons. The Richardsons criminal organization was led by two siblings, just like the Krays, except the Krays were twins. The Richardsons were brothers.

In fact, these two gangs were rivals, and the shooting of a Richardson man by Ronnie Kray at The Blind Beggar pub both made the pub famous and brought down the Krays. Like the Krays, the Richardsons ended up in jail as well. But both brothers were eventually freed. Fear not, pub patrons. All of these guys have passed on now.

One final point, a reviewer posting in 2023 says that the pub overlooking Cleaver Square Garden encourages patrons to play the lawn bowling game pétanque by supplying the balls. I hope this is still true. If you get a chance to play a chunk here or elsewhere, don't miss it. Rules are easy and quickly you'll be hooked on this fun pastime.

All right, drink up and let's get to our last watering hole. The Old Red Lion at 42 Kennington Park Road. All our pubs today, like all our pubs every day, are really nice, but I have saved The Old Red Lion for the last as kind of a big finish. What makes it extra special? First, it's Grade II listed, and we'll talk more about what features resulted in that honor, but secondly, it was chosen as a ‘Best Red Lion Pub in London’. Says who? Dan Wiggins, the Senior Trending Reporter for mylondon.news. He visited every pub named The Red Lion in London in 2022. That was 24 and all. He had a basic three components scoring system: interior, exterior, and Red Lion sign. Each rated on a 1 to 5 scale, ratings were told, and the Red Lion with the highest average score, won.

And that would be this Red Lion, chalking up 4.7 out of five. His full article is linked in the notes and is a fun read. Why this Red Lion? Dan writes,

“An absolute stunner from the outside, with a Tudor style facade that filters down into some beautifully intricate windows. It gets even better inside and has been around since the 1750s, with wood beams and island bar and new additions, including a big conservatory and beer garden out back.”

Thanks, Dan. Like one of our previous pubs today, The King's Arms, the brewery who owned this pub in the 1930s, decided to do a rebuild. As we mentioned previously, The King's Arms rebuild was done by Whitneys under the direction of their in-house architect. Similar story with The Red Lion. The redo was commissioned by Brewer, Hoare and Company, but in this case they use Sidney C Clark, the in-house architect, for another brewery, Charrington.

Why? Because this project happened just at the time that Hoare and Company was being acquired by Charrington. Charrington was the pacman of Brewers. Wiki, tells us that Charrington acquired about 20 breweries from the 1840s through the 1960s, before eventually itself being lost in a morass of mergers in the second half of the 20th century. 

Architect Clark was their in-house man from 1924 to 1959. He has at least one other Grade II listed design to his credit The Daylight Inn, Petts Wood, Bromley. The Red Lion’s exterior that so impressed writer Dan is considered a fine example of what was termed ‘Brewer's Tudor’, a return to the Tudor type of appearance characteristic in many interwar rebuilds. Historic England's Grade II listing, write up for The Old Red Lion runs several paragraphs and includes a lot about timber joints, brick barns and Tudor style detailing. A feast for architectural purists but perhaps a bit heavy going for the rest of us. So, here's a lighter, listener friendly version, still rooted in their record, but trimmed down to what you might notice with a pint in hand, 

“Step through the doors of The Old Red Lion and you'll be walking into a slice of the 1930s showmanship, dressed up in Tudor clothes. The public today rose in 1933, replacing one that has stood on this spot since the 1750s. And it makes no secret of its nostalgia. Its black timber beams and white plaster panels are pure to the reason that interwar fashion for half timbering and old-world charm. Look up at the attic gable and you'll spot a pair of carved lions painted red of course, holding the whole thing aloft. Beneath them, arched windows glow with frosted stained glass, and three heavy oak doors hint at a time when bars were divided by class and custom. The saloon for the respectable and the public bar for everyone else. To one side sits what was once an off license. Just a single bay brick shop with a jolly little slate roof where locals would nip in to take beer home.

Inside, remarkably much of 1933 survives. The ceiling beams have been what's called ‘adze’. That is, given that hand-hewn look, and the fireplaces wear twisted brickwork and Tudor style hoods. Even the lavatories still have their original cream and black tiles. Look around and you'll see heraldic shields and carved scenes of Bonnie Prince Charlie’s landing in Scotland, and bar counters with arched panels that wouldn't look out of place in a medieval hall.

It's a pub that was built to be old-fashioned from the day it opened, and nearly a century on, that illusion still works.” 

The pub is now in the Portobello Brewery Pub group, who started out in 2013 and craft beers and now owns 12 pubs in the London area. They're another example of a small, dedicated company taking good care of a treasured pub, just like we saw with The Prince of Wales and its owner, The Black Dog Pub Company. Several examples come to mind. 

I like this trend where smaller organizations require a classic pub and seem to be able to better provide the respect for the pub and its history that it and the patrons deserve. Looks like things are going well. Reviews on TripAdvisor are 80% good or excellent, and the management post responses to these individual reviews that tells me that they really care. Congratulations Old Red Lion. 

And that puts a wrap on our walk in Kennington today. I hope you enjoyed it. Thanks so much for listening. 

Our great Producer, Andy is going to get us out of here. But first let me say, if you care to drop me a line, I'd love to hear from you. Tell me if you have a comment or a suggestion or just a good pub story.

More pub adventures coming next time. Until then, cheers.


Well, that’s it, fellow pub pilgrims. Together, we’ve just staggered through the historic labyrinth that is Kennington, pint in one hand and a wildly unnecessary amount of pub trivia in the other.

We’ve witnessed a pub resurrected from the ashes twice, met a magician who turned a pub into a flaming birdcage, and stared lovingly at wallpaper that probably hasn’t been cleaned since Churchill had a tab running.

We now know more about the word “Bedlam” than we ever wanted to; mentally played pétanque; and time-traveled via stained glass, wood beams, and boisterously enthusiastic online reviews.

Free gift with purchase from today’s episode! We’re now officially qualified to shout “Actually, that pub’s been around since 1792” at strangers in bars. Use this power wisely.

Alas, for now, it’s time to stumble out into the London dusk, pocket full of pub facts, brain full of beer fog, and heart full of admiration for the dusty, charming chaos that is London’s pub scene.

One more thing. Thanks to Eric, we now know who let the dogs out? It was Charlie. Chaplin, of course.  

On our next episode, Episode 53, we’re heading to Islington for a fame-based visit. This episode is going to live forever!

We’ll meet a famous Red Lion, a famous Castle where the country’s largest jewel heist was planned, and along the way, take in the remnants of a famous coaching inn. 

This has been Podcast Producer, Andy Meddick. Until next time, remember, every pub has a story to tell, if you know where to look.