Merton’s Transformation From Roman Roads to Retail Parks

The Wandle has seen dramatic change over the last 150 years. In this article, local historian John Hawks looks back at Merton’s transformation – from peaceful countryside to industrial sprawl, and finally to urban renewal. He reflects on what was lost, what was saved, and how the river endures.

Collage showing historic and modern photos of Merton, including old streets, factories, traffic, and aerial views of urban development.

John Hawks, Vice Chair of Merton Priory Trust and Wandle Heritage Limited, a Trustee of the Wandle Industrial Museum, a member of the Wandle Valley Forum, and Curator of the Chapter House Museum.

John Hawks fell in love with Merton in 1989 when he became founding manager of Merton Abbey Mills. He is Vice Chair of Merton Priory Trust and Wandle Heritage Limited, a Trustee of the Wandle Industrial Museum, a member of the Wandle Valley Forum, and Curator of the Chapter House Museum.

THINGS AREN’T WHAT THEY USED TO BE – THANK GOODNESS!

Being so near London the Wandle has seen more than its fair share of changes. On its way from the North Downs down to the Thames our precious chalk stream – said to be one of only around two hundred in the world – once passed through rural villages and unspoilt countryside. In less than 150 years the villages have become commuter towns and inner suburbs, with all the infrastructural problems they bring.

But still the Wandle takes its peaceful course through some beautiful parks, and is still a priceless green corridor – a perfect example of what the ancient Roman writer Martial called “rus in urbe” (the country in the town).

A calm stretch of the River Wandle with a white footbridge in Morden Hall Park, surrounded by grass and trees. — The Wandle in Morden Hall Park. Photo credit: John Hawks

One of the biggest changes of all has been in Merton – once a remote country village, now a busy London borough. And nowhere have the changes been more marked than in Merton High Street. For two millennia it’s always been a main road, of course, the ford where the Roman Stane Street crossed the Wandle.

An archaeologist in a hard hat examining a soil layer during the 2000 excavation of Stane Street near the River Wandle. — Excavating the Stane Street where it crossed the Wandle in 2000. Photo credit: Dave Saxby

There were watermills on the river and charcoal burners in the nearby woods (where the name Colliers Wood comes from), but the predominant scene would have been meadows and fields with scattered dwellings.

In 1117 the canons of Merton chose to build the great Priory there by the river, (naturally enough, for a fresh water supply) and on the Roman road (not just beside it but in the very middle of it!), for ready access for of all their many visitors – indeed, a monastery was, among other things, a harbour for travellers. But around this great building it was still pure countryside.

A Minecraft-style digital model of Merton Priory surrounded by green fields, showing its rural location in earlier times. — An impression in the “Minecraft” video game of Merton Priory’s countryside setting! Photo credit: Thomas Hobro

Much later, when Nelson left Merton Place for Trafalgar in 1805, the village scene hadn’t changed much, and in 1880 when William Morris found his ideal premises there, an old Huguenot fabric works on the Wandle, the great surge in Victorian suburban building had only just begun, and the High Street was still pleasantly rural.

Black and white photo of Merton High Street in 1880, showing small buildings and people near the River Wandle. — Merton High Street c.1880

Alas, I wonder how many of you will be old enough to share my own vivid dystopian memory of Merton High Street 90 years later, which couldn’t be more different. For a month in 1969 I had to drive every day from Mitcham through Colliers Wood, along the High Street and down Haydon’s Road to Wandsworth.

West of Christchurch Road was a ghastly dump of abandoned railway sidings, car breakers, plant hire, rubbish exchange, skip companies and low grade industry in the final throes of dereliction as far as the eye could see. The Wandle was grossly polluted – it had recently been designated “a sewer” – the Pickle a filthy overgrown ditch, and even the precious relic of the Priory wall hidden and jostled by factory buildings.

Aerial photo showing dense industrial buildings, car lots, skip yards, and derelict land west of Christchurch Road in Colliers Wood. — Aerial view of industrial decay west of Christchurch Road, before the area’s major redevelopment. The Wandle runs unseen beneath the clutter.

The only landmark in Colliers Wood was the infamous black tower block, built in 1967, and once voted “London’s ugliest building”.

Tall dark tower block in Colliers Wood with the sign "Lyon" at the top, viewed from the street with cars and pedestrians. — The variously named Apex Tower, Lyon Tower, and Brown and Root Tower. Photo credit: Merton Historical Society

And the High Street itself was utterly dominated by the hideous Merton Board Mill, which gave the entire area the appearance of the worst kind of Northern industrial town.

Black and white photo of the large Merton Board Mill factory building with chimneys, cars, and street signs in front. — The Merton Board Mill, once a dominant industrial presence on Merton High Street before its demolition in the 1980s. Photo credit: Merton Heritage and Local Studies Centre

Oh, and by the way this narrow confine was still the main A24 to Dorking, inevitably a horrendous traffic bottleneck into the bargain – it felt like being trapped in Hell.

Street scene on Merton High Street with cars, a red double-decker bus, billboards, and the Merton Board Mill building. — Traffic on Merton High Street with the Merton Board Mill in the background. Photo credit: Merton Heritage and Local Studies Centre

No single person or policy had done this to poor little Merton – it had just happened incrementally as the years went on, industries flourished and died, an accident of history, the whole area in a kind of slow death spiral. And yet this was SW19, for goodness sake, a postcode shared with affluent leafy Wimbledon, just a mile away!

The longed for solution came in the mid-1980s, and the White Knight, perhaps unexpectedly, was Sainsbury’s. In just five years the entire industrial area was swept away, a new bypass built, the Liberty works relaunched as Merton Abbey Mills, the historic Priory site excavated, the Wandle revived and landscaped, and the High Street once more neat and tidy – if, admittedly, a little bland.

Photo of Merton High Street showing a wide pavement beside the River Wandle, cars on the road, and shops on the right. — A more modern view of Merton High Street with the River Wandle flowing beside a landscaped path near Sainsbury’s. Photo credit: John Hawks

Yes, the quid pro quo was a giant hypermarket, and the era of “shed retail” had come -but the nightmare was over, and Merton and its precious river could be lively and lovely again. Even the hated black tower now has a new set of clothes, and is really rather nice.

And the brave little Wandle, as ever, is the life blood of the place, patiently coping, suffering, surviving, nourishing, calm, placid, reassuring, ever constant while all around it is constantly changing.