Author Archives: Wade

Red Lion, Colliers Wood

Pub that was at 60-62 High Street, Colliers Wood, SW19 2BY. The site is now occupied by a CO-OP.

1968 photo by Eric Montague, reproduced by kind permission of the Merton Historical Society.

1967 OS map. Ordnance survey maps are reproduced by permission of the National Library of Scotland (reuse CC-BY).

Licensees

1972 – Dennis Callaghan (source: Mitcham and Colliers Wood Gazette 22nd June 1972)

1925 – Mrs. J. O’Neill
1902 – Ellen Kettle
1896 – Samuel Ezekiel Kettle & Mrs. Ellen Kettle
1875 – John Marchant Penfold
1870 – James Marchant Penfold
1867 – Mrs. Maria Chandler
1851 – James Townsend
1837 – Henry James Hoare
1824 – William Pithouse
1822 – Ann Ritchie

Disco Pub

In 1972 owner Charram Ltd, part of brewery Bass Charrington, converted it into a disco pub.

1972 ad from the Mitcham and Colliers Wood Gazette, colourised by Google Gemini


The Battle for Collier’s Wood: How a “Mind Blowing” Disco Pub Sparked a Residents’ Revolt in 1972 London

The conflict is timeless: a new business opens, and the quiet rhythm of a neighborhood is suddenly disrupted. Disputes over noise, parking, and a new crowd of people can quickly escalate into a battle for the very soul of a community. While these stories play out in towns and cities every day, few are as perfectly preserved in amber as the one found in a collection of 1972 newspaper clippings from South London. This is the wild, hyperlocal history of the Red Lion Disco Pub—a culture clash that pitted Go-Go Girls and groovy tunes against a residents’ association threatening “militant action.”

A New Kind of Nightlife Sparks a Fire

In 1972, an advertisement for the Red Lion at 62 High Street, Collier’s Wood, promised a revolution in local entertainment. It wasn’t just a pub; it was a “Fabulous Disco-Pub!” and “It’s South London’s latest disco!” The ad trumpeted “dancing seven nights a week,” the “Latest discs!” spun by a “Top D.J.!”, and the presence of “Go-Go Girls.” It urged patrons to “Come and do your thing!” in an atmosphere it declared both “Groovy!” and “Mind Blowing.”

This hybrid venue represented a seismic cultural shift. For a London suburb accustomed to the traditional quiet pint, the fusion of a local pub with the loud, vibrant, youth-driven energy of a modern disco was an entirely new and disruptive concept. The Red Lion wasn’t just offering a drink; it was importing a high-energy, city-center nightlife experience directly into a residential neighborhood.

“Militant Action” and a Neighborhood “Polluted with Riff-Raff”

The arrival of the disco pub was not met with universal enthusiasm. As one April headline in the Mitcham and Colliers Wood Gazette bluntly stated, the “Red Lion Pub Row Hots Up.” Residents felt “plagued” by the pub’s patrons, and their response—a blend of formal civic organizing and populist rage—is a classic example of a community reacting to perceived cultural intrusion.

Initially, the opposition was procedural. The Collier’s Wood Residents’ Association, led by its secretary Mr. Percy Whiffin, began organizing public meetings to plan their strategy. They launched a petition to have the pub’s music and dancing licence revoked, a campaign that gained significant traction, gathering nearly 500 signatures.

But as the weeks wore on, the frustration escalated dramatically. By May, the newspaper was reporting on a “stormy meeting” where residents threatened to take “militant action.” The core complaints centered on “parking, tight hooliganism and misuse of property”—the term “tight hooliganism” likely referring to drunken or loutish behavior. The strength of local feeling was captured in one resident’s fiery statement:

“We have become polluted with riff-raff who don’t even live around here. It would be a good idea if we withheld our rates or even circle the pub to stop people from going in.”

This wasn’t simply a two-sided war. The pub’s owners, Charrington, became a third party in the conflict. Mr. Wray, a general manager for the company, met with residents and assured them Charrington “had taken up the problem very seriously,” and the company put up notices inside the pub asking patrons to be quiet when leaving.

The New Manager Who Found the Chaos “Quite Enjoyable”

Thrown into the middle of this escalating war was Dennis Callaghan, the 28-year-old Irishman who had taken over as manager of the controversial pub just three weeks prior. Surrounded by angry residents and intense media scrutiny, Callaghan offered a surprisingly calm perspective on the chaos. His cheerful detachment provides a fascinating counterpoint to the high emotional stakes of the residents, highlighting the gap in perspective between the provider of the new entertainment and the recipients of its consequences.

Instead of expressing frustration, he told the Gazette he was taking the entire “row” in stride. He also defended his establishment, arguing that the troublemakers were a minority. “There was rarely any trouble inside the pub,” he stated, adding that “residents rarely appreciate that.” In an earlier interview, he had offered this moment of unexpected levity:

“This is the first disco pub I have run but it is quite enjoyable. Once all this trouble is sorted out I am sure I will enjoy working here all the more.”

The Strange Victory Where the Disco Pub Stayed Open

After months of dispute, the case went before the Greater London Council’s public services entertainments licensing sub-committee. The final newspaper headline announced a bizarre and unsatisfying conclusion for all involved: “VICTORY FOR RESIDENTS – BUT DISCO PUB STAYS”.

The residents had technically won. The council agreed with their complaints and revoked the Red Lion’s music and dancing licence. However, the pub’s owners, Charrington, immediately filed an appeal. This legal maneuver allowed the pub to continue operating as a full-fledged disco for at least another four weeks while the appeal was processed.

This ambiguous result left both sides feeling “disappointed.” For manager Dennis Callaghan, the threat still loomed. For Mr. Percy Whiffin, the win was hollow. Despite the militant talk from some residents, his stated goal had been “to keep the peace” and work towards a “mutual satisfaction for both sides.” The ruling achieved a legal victory but guaranteed that the neighborhood’s fundamental conflict would continue.

Source: blog report generated by Google NotebookLM using scans of editions of the Mitcham and Colliers Wood Gazette.

Spotted Dog, Garratt Lane, Wandsworth

The Spotted Dog< was a pub at 72 Garratt Lane, this pub was a centre for industrial workers and later radical politics before being demolished for a shopping centre expansion.

Contents

Timeline
Newspaper articles
Maps

Timeline

  • c. 1762 – 1840: The pub operates under independent or local brewers during the Georgian and early Victorian periods.
  • By the late 18th century, it was established as a “well accustomed Public House” serving the mill workers and laborers of the River Wandle.
  • Late Victorian Era: The pub becomes a significant asset of Page & Overton’s Brewery Ltd , a Croydon-based regional powerhouse.
  • The building features a robust brick facade and ornate signage typical of the “Brewery Tie” era.
  • c. 1910 – 1954: The pub remains under the tenure of Page & Overton.
  • 1934: Clement Belk Barron, a key licensee who owned both The Spotted Dog and The Fishmongers Arms, dies leaving a substantial estate, indicating the pub’s profitability during the interwar period.
  • 1954 – 1993: The pub is owned by Charrington & Co.
  • 1971 – 1972: The pub becomes a site for radical political mobilization, serving as a regular meeting place for the International Socialists (precursor to the SWP) due to its proximity to Wandsworth Town Hall.
  • 1989: The Beer Orders legislation forces large brewers to release ties on pubs, triggering a period of instability for The Spotted Dog.
  • 1993: J D Wetherspoon acquires the pub, rebranding it as “The Dalmatian” in an attempt to modernize the image while retaining a link to the name.
  • It became a focal point for a “real ale” revival in the area.
  • 1998: The pub is sold to Ambishus, a pub company, marking the end of the Wetherspoon era.
  • Early 2000s: The pub passes to Planet Inns.
  • During this period, original Victorian interior fittings (bar counters, glasswork) were threatened with disposal but partially saved by heritage activists.
  • 2004 (March 9): A legal charge is placed on the property by The Royal Bank of Scotland.
  • 2005: Ownership transfers to Woolwich Taverns, the final private equity owners.
  • 2007 (January 1): The Spotted Dog closes permanently.
  • 2008: The building is demolished to facilitate the expansion of the Southside Shopping Centre (formerly the Arndale).

Newspaper articles

South Western Star – Friday 18 November 1955

SUPT’S VISIT TO SPOTTED DOG

Licensee denies police allegations

A Wandsworth licensee denied at the South Western Magistrates’ Court on Friday police allegations that he had taken betting slips from customers in his pub.

Leonard Simmonds, licensee of the Spotted Dog in Garratt Lane, appeared on an adjourned summons for using the premises for the purpose of betting.

Evidence has already been given by two police officers who kept observation in the saloon bar that they saw customers hand money and slips to Simmonds. One officer said that on one occasion he saw Simmonds hand some notes and silver from the till to a man who came in and asked, “Anything for me?”

Supt. Potter said that on October 7 at 1.55 p.m. he entered the public-house with other officers. With Chief Inspector Preece he went to the private room behind the saloon bar, where he saw Mr. Simmonds engaged on the telephone. On the top of a cabinet he found a 10s. note, 6/6 silver, and a betting slip. He showed it to Simmonds and asked him what it was, and he replied, “A betting slip.” In a drawer of the cabinet he found a £1 note, 11/7½ in silver and bronze, 17 betting slips and six paying-out slips. Three of the slips referred to racing on that day and two of them were signed “Tubby.” One was written on a public-house menu card. Each of the paying-out slips showed a transaction with Simmonds.

DIFFERENT HANDWRITING

He then said to Simmonds, “Do you deny these premises are being used for the purpose of betting?” and he replied, “If any of my friends phone me up to put them on I do.” Witness then said, “These slips, then, should be in your handwriting?” He replied, “Should be, or my wife’s, if she answers when I am busy.” The 17 slips were all in different handwriting. He then asked Mrs. Simmonds, “Have you ever taken bets on the phone for your husband?” and she replied, “Never, I swear to that.”

Insp. Griffin said that when he entered the public-house with Supt. Potter there were eight men sitting in the saloon bar. Two of these, Samuel Weller and Charles Langley, he knew as bookmakers. In the corner he saw a man named Coombes, known as “Tubby.” He went up to Tubby and from the top of his boot removed a piece of blue paper in which was wrapped a 2/- piece. On it was written “Belladonna 1/- win; Beddington 1/- win. Double stakes up and down. Tubby 2/-.”

HAD WARNED BOOKMAKER

Simmonds, in evidence, denied all the allegations that customers handed him slips and money and said he had no recollection of handing a man money from the till after ringing up “No Sale.” If this did take place he was cashing a cheque. He did this for a certain section of his customers—log boys. When he went into his private room it was to get food. He had warned Langley, whom he knew as a street bookmaker, not to take bets on his premises.

The hearing was adjourned until November 19.

Maps

1955 OS map