Brooklands Ice House, Blackheath

The must-have accessory for every 18th century British stately home was an ice house. The ability to serve cold drinks to guests on a hot July day was a hugely important social statement, underlining a gentleman's wealth and prosperity - the wealth to pay labourers to build the structure and then nurture this much-prized resource. This classically-shaped house (missing its chopped-off entrance passage) was probably built by Gregory Page in 1723 at the same time as Wricklemarsh House, a substantial mansion located at the junction of Foxes Dale and Blackheath Park. The ice house itself was close to the ponds of Casterbridge Road, which would have provided a rich harvest of ice during January; sadly - and scandalously - now demolished. There was formerly an ice house in the grounds of Woodlands House in Westcombe Park; we managed to explore and photograph the entrance passage of this elusive structure, which is all that appears to remain. Photos of that passage will appear here in due course. Photograph c. 1939. Copyright: Trustees of the late Alan Roger Martin.

Turpin's Cave, Plumstead

On the east side of the Wickham valley in Plumstead, at the edge of Bostall woods, lies a curious little chalk mine: Turpin's Cave. We can be fairly sure that Turpin was never in this cave - this wasn't his manor, and there is no record of him being here. Generations of children played in the cave, long before the modern era of health and safety fascism; many (now elderly) have fond memories of the place. Re-opening Turpins was a mammoth undertaking, using dozens of volunteers during a five-year dig in the late 1980s, and was ultimately successful. We eventually entered the right-hand gallery, which has had a big roof fall - the ceiling is a dome of Thanet sand exposed when the chalk fell down (a very long time ago). Inside you turn left and descend a sand slope into the smaller gallery, which is choked with sand - a hands-and-knees crawl with your back tickling the roof of the passage leads back towards the original face of the quarry. We didn't re-open the daylight entrance to this small gallery - it wasn't necessary to complete the survey, and there was obviously no way on. Despite our best efforts to secure the entrance, local children with formidable resources of power tools forced their way back in, and Greenwich Council ended up covering over the entrance again with many tons of sand.

Ifield chalk adits, Kent

Back in Kent, a quick trip to Ifield chalk adits. Three galleries driven into the face of a small chalk quarry, not so far from the A2 (although the navigation required is somewhat Machiavellian). The main galleries are about 15 feet high, with two smaller cross-cuts to link all three. The quarry is in the middle of fields; it's easy to forget that Chislehurst Caves was once upon a time equally rural, not hemmed in by unaffordable housing for city workers.

Ware Chalk Mine, Herts

A recent excursion outside our usual manors of interest took us to Hertfordshire. A few minutes' drive from Ware town centre is a nice little chalk mine dating from the early 19th century. As well as the usual work benches (giant chalk steps) that the miners stood on to reach the upper part of the gallery, there is a sudden floor drop in one alcove of about 14 feet; the unwary visitor with poor lighting risks a sudden lesson in the law of gravity.


About 500 feet of passageway altogether - small but pefectly formed. The roof is in good condition, unlike many chalk mines, although there is some evidence of frost action near the entrance - a few bales of straw would keep the inside cosy and stop the frost flaking on those long winter nights.


Every chalk mine is important and relevant - knowledge is cumulative.

Fan Museum Tunnel, Greenwich

During the conversion of 10-12 Crooms Hill into the Fan Museum, builders exposed a short length of culvert related to a pair of old wells. Per went into the tiny passage - so narrow that there wasn't enough space to wear a helmet as it would have jammed against the walls - and emerged in a shallow well about 4 metres away. Somehow I managed to pass him a flash unit, and the resulting picture illustrates the cramped conditions quite well. The culvert is no longer accessible, and may even have been filled in by now.

Darenth Wood Denehole

Dominic describes a solo trip into the Darenth Wood denehole
It's a grey day in the woods alongside the A2, quite close to the Dartford Tunnel. The funnel-shaped depression that forms one of the entrances to the Darenth Wood denehole lies at my feet. A muddy slide down the side of the 15 foot crater, and my body is halfway into the jaws of the earth; several hundred tons of chalk sit inches away from my chest.


I scramble all the way in, being careful not to touch the crumbly entrance area, and ease my way down into the spacious galleries, observing the classic double trefoil arrangement of the chambers. The smell is earthy and ancient - an aroma of passing centuries.


My breath smokes in the beam of the Oldham miners lamp, curling away in a faint draught. A few steps bring me to the bottom of the mossy shaft - the grey jagged circle of light looks back at me, illuminating old rope marks worn by countless baskets of chalk being hauled up centuries ago. After I complete my photography, I sit in quiet meditation for a while. Sounds of birdsong and distant traffic noise filter down, along with the skinny trees rattling against each other in the wind. The men's earthy banter as they hacked at the chalk long ago still echoes through the chambers - if you listen carefully.

Beneath the streets... with Dominic Clinton and Per von Scheibner

An introduction to the blog
For well over 20 years Dominic Clinton and Per von Scheibner have been exploring, surveying and photographing the subterranean world beneath the streets of the London Borough of Greenwich, along with a few Kentish sites, notably the chalk mines of Chislehurst.

↑ Per von Scheibner in Ware Chalk Mine, Herts

↑ Dominic Clinton examining a pottery sherd underground during an expedition to Thailand

It's finally time to bring our huge archive to the general public. Without being immodest, it's fair to say that we know more about the dark labyrinths beneath the streets of Greenwich than anyone else alive - conduits, sewers, chalk mines, sand mines, deneholes and a host of other miscellaneous holes in the ground. Our excursions frequently take us into Kent, whose subterranea we jointly rule with other explorers and gurus.

↑ Per von Scheibner inspecting an 18th century tunnel in Maze Hill, Greenwich

Please note that all photos are strictly copyright. Exact locations have been witheld for reasons of safety, along with the fact that many entrances lie on private property. It's also a matter of conservation - some of the passages are tudor, and in a poor state of repair; they will not withstand the onslaught of intensive visiting.

The passage seen above (in Maze Hill) has rotten boards with the strength of a coffee-dunked digestive holding up the arch in a couple of places. It's part of a small network of early 18th century brick tunnels whose purpose is unfathomable - they are neither sewers or conduits. The height varies from about 4 feet down to 18 inches, with occasional deposits from visiting cats to welcome the visitor. A flat-out crawl with your helmet scraping the ceiling is required to reach the passage seen in the photo.