Opening Up
This post charts the highs and lows, the failures and successes and the ongoing history of ‘The White Lion’ – Warlingham’s most famous hostelry pictured above in more bucolic days – according to yours truly, Dougie Doolittle, sage and scholar to the drinking classes.
The following relies on dedicated research, unparalleled local knowledge and my own natural storytelling skills, fuelled by pints of Carling, regular intakes of vindaloo from the Warlingham Tandoori and, not least, my own small stash of exotic tobacco.
First Round
It doesn’t do too well to be too tall if you are a White Lion regular, as the sign above the door states: ‘Weary traveller do ye mind your hatte’ although it’s clear that many modern day imbibers do not understand Olde Englishe, judging by the regular sickening thuds as head meet low beams and the accompanying expletives that can be heard on any given day.
Obviously, people were a lot shorter in the days when the White Lion was built – around 1467, according to this history books – which is why many of the low beams in the building barely reach six feet.
Of course, the recent refurbishment, more of which later, has meant tall people can manoeuvre round the place in reasonable comfort now – so long as they stay in the garish, modern extension!
But, the Lion wasn’t always a pub. It was built first as a farmhouse and cottages, only becoming an Inn later in the 15th Century. This was due to an inspired move by owner and local farmer, Hubert Grassdangle! I think the fact that the Parish Council continually refuse to put up a statue in his honour on the front of the pub is a national disgrace.
The White Lion Inn became an immediate hit, with its warren of intimate and enclosed bars, lit by old carriage lamps, and its unique features such as the Inglenook fireplace beneath which is buried the entrance to a secret tunnel leading under the Limpsfield Road to the nearby almshouses.
And it’s worth looking out for the carved wooden post which escaped the refurbishment and which precariously supports one end of the particularly low beam running across the main bar area. It was taken from the corner of an Elizabethan four poster bed whose springs once bounced along to an amorous romp between Shakespeare-wannabe, Christopher Marlowe, and a mystery milkmaid from nearby Chelsham.
During the 19th Century, the Lion’s services were more diverse than they are today, selling general provisions as well as beer much like some of the bars in rural Ireland still do to this day.
Inside the pub, the atmosphere was often gloomy, with little sunshine breaking through the smoke-fugged rooms and, not surprisingly perhaps, there have been many sightings of apparitions in the main bar area after closing time when all but the bar staff have gone.
One notable encounter was in 1913 when Dorothea Tremayne-Wilkinson, the daughter of a local wealthy businessmen, big in steam-driven suction pumps for cesspits, found herself collecting glasses as a favour to her barmaid friend.
She heard a noise in the main bar, poked her head round the door and saw at the bar a young girl dressed in white standing next to a florid-faced man with heavy black Cavalry whiskers, banging soundlessly on the bar top, apparently demanding a drink.
I now understand that this could be Colonel Manley Pilkington and his young wife, Cecilia, who tragically died in 1824 while waiting for a coach to London. They were both pushed under the hooves of the oncoming horses by jealous rival, Frederick Fawshaw, and his rather simple-minded brother, Jebediah, who were both later hanged for their crimes.
During the 1890s, the right hand wing – which the keen observer may notice is slightly out of scale with the rest of the building – was rebuilt. But it wasn’t until 1971 that it was given its own bar. It was also during the 1970s that the large garden at the back was opened up and a further serving area provided to cater for the many families and tourists who visit the pub during the summer months.
The Genial Hosts
In the 19th Century, the White Lion belonged to Croydon brewery, Crowleys, who along with their local rivals, Nalder and Collyer, owned many of the surrounding hostelries.
They made the wise decision of letting the pub to the Churchill family – and succeeding generations of this dynasty manned the beer pumps at the Lion for 72 years, between 1868 and 1940. The following 30 years saw G W (Bill) Adams at the helm who poured his last pint in 1970 when he retired.
He was then replaced by the mysterious Dane, Cnut Neilson, a blond haired, blue eyed charmer who lasted just a few months after he fled into the night with the Christmas takings, never to be seen again. There were some sightings of the Dodgy Dane, pouring Scandinavian lager in a Spanish bar in Magaluf but these were never confirmed. The Lord Lucan of Warlingham, that what I always called him!
The biggest effect of Charrington’s takeover from Crowleys in 1971 was to make the Lion a managed house and placed it, alongside other older pubs, into a separate company called Vintage Inns. There followed a succession of faces behind the bar who all foisted a variety of their own individual foibles and idiosyncrasies on us unsuspecting drinkers.
Leading the way were Tony and Tiu Brand who reigned between 1971 and 1984 and who left a legacy by establishing the Lion’s reputation for good food – a reputation which has fallen into disrepute in recent years, highlighted by a distinctly unflattering review in the local paper.
They were followed by Brian Basen ( 1984-1986 ), Tim Bartel ( 1986 -1987 ) whose extra-curricular parties could have made the front pages of the News of the World ( think human spin-the-bottle games ! ), Kath and Andy Smith ( 1987 – 1989 ) and Julia ‘Charlie’ Evans whose nickname came from her resemblance to Farrah Fawcett-Majors in Charlie’s Angels.
Jill and Alan ‘Drinkseversomuch’ followed Charlie and remained for just 5 months, followed by Christine Sheridan, who was in the post from July 2000 until February 2002 when a tragic shooting incident forced her departure and the closure of the pub for 6 weeks. From this low point, the pub slowly recovered with Andy Eyles as manager followed by Amber.
Charlie made her return as manager following the refurbishment and not long after departed again!
Spirits and Mixers
Sometimes to the annoyance of regular imbibers, the Lion became a popular stopping off point during the 1890s and 1900s for ramblers and cyclists venturing out from the suburban hell of Croydon.
They were followed by the first ever motorists – or, at least, those brave enough to tackle the steep hills surrounding Warlingham, hills which also discouraged train and bus development and enabled the area to remain remote and unspoilt until the later 1920s. Some of these visitors’ verbal ramblings can be seen in a visitors’ book which used to be display in the pub’s middle bar but was liberated by a well-known local to save it from the clutches of the redevelopers. It remains safely hidden to this day.
During the Second World War, the pub became popular with servicemen, notably RAF pilots and aircrew from the nearby aerodromes at Biggin Hill and Kenley. Winston Churchill himself stopped off on one occasion while driving to his home in Chartwell.
His car conveniently broke down outside the pub and while his chauffeur carried out the necessary repairs, he retired to what is called ‘The IPA Bar’, downed several large brandies and entertained regulars by practising his most famous speech, ‘never in the field of human conflict .. ‘
One regular did walk in during his impassioned rhetoric and asked him why Churchill was sitting in his favourite chair and would be kindly move? Churchill’s reply is not recorded.
During Bill Adam’s time it is recorded that members of the Handlebar Club ( moustaches, nothing to do with bikes ), including'Whacko!' comedian Jimmy Edwards, used to meet at the Lion occasionally during the 1950s and 1960s.
Many of the regulars have been coming in on a daily or weekly basis for over 50 years but the probable record holder must be former village bobby, Arthur ‘Curley’ Wiles, who had an attendance record going back to before the First World War. Of course, he never rode his bike drunk once…
Last Orders
There was much controversy when Mitchells and Butler decided to refurbish the pub. But, a well-orchestrated local protest succeeded in forcing the faceless accountants running the brewery to considerably review and redraw their plans for the pub. Apart from the rather incongruous pub sign at the front there is little to detract from the most attractive façade of this ancient building. The interior is now split between old and new, and draws criticism and admiration alike.
Afters
Well, this was a potted history of the White Lion, garnered from various sources If anyone has any other interesting anecdotes, facts or memories, then let me know through this blog.
See you there for a pint!
Dougie Doolittle.
