June Sampson: The Kingstonians who gave our streets their names

Doubtless, it will provide the good life for those within its iron-barred security gates.

But for those of us on the outside it's a lumpenly unimaginative scheme for such a landmark site.

It has also despoiled much of the rural character of Canbury Gardens, and is more suggestive of barracks than executive housing.

However, one aspect of it delights me -- the decision by Kingston Town Neighbourhood committee to name its roads after outstanding, but largely unrecognised, Kingstonians of the past.

Samuel Gray is one example. Though most people have never heard of him, we all love the beautiful Canbury Gardens he did so much to create.

Gray, whose family had been maltsters and lightermen in Kingston since the 18th century, was founder of Canbury Ratepayers' Association, formed early in the 1880s to give this developing and somewhat despised part of the town a voice in public affairs.

It succeeded. Many of its members were subsequently elected as councillors, and had a profound effect on the council's social and political complexion.

Gray had known the Canbury riverside in pre-railway days, when it was just swamp and osier beds.

After the arrival of the railway, and the building rush that followed, the site became a tar factory and foul rubbish dump before, thanks to Gray, being transformed into the gardens that did so much to raise the residential attractions of Canbury.

In 1884 Gray called a Canbury residents' meeting, and moved that this riverside eyesore be laid out as a public garden.

Later that year he became councillor for Canbury Ward, and in 1887 introduced his Canbury Gardens proposals into the council chamber.

He moved "that the Improvement, Property and Sanitary Committee be instructed to remove from the riverbank, known as the Upper Eyot, the tar paving manufactory, the road materials and other miscellaneous and unsavoury objects deposited there...and that the view from the river shall be a pleasant one and not, as at present, unsightly and obnoxious."

The motion was defeated after objections that if such a garden was created "it would be used by working men".

Gray wouldn't let the matter rest. Eventually, in 1888 he wrung agreement from the council for his scheme.

The first section of the garden, extending 1,000 feet from the new Down Hall Road, was completed in 1890 at a cost of £494.10s. Further extensions continued for the rest of the decade.

Canbury Gardens proved to be one of the most popular amenities ever provided in the town and a triumph for Samuel Gray who, though wealthy enough to live in a more fashionable locality, chose to build himself a house at 2 Gibbon Road, where he died in 1914.

Only now does he have a personal memorial in the name of Samuel Gray Gardens, at the north end of Canbury Place.

At the southern end of the estate is Henry Macaulay Close, named after the man who was Kingston's borough surveyor from 1876 to 1906, and designed many town landmarks, including Knights Park Bridge and Kingston's original power station -- part of which still survives near Canbury Place. He also drew up the construction plans for Canbury Gardens.

Major Macaulay, described as "courteous and urbane to a degree", died at his Kingston Hill home in 1917. He was 87 -- described by the Comet as "an unusually prolonged life".

John Williams Close is my favourite, because it gives long-overdue honour to one of the greatest, but most maligned, benefactors in Kingston's history.

John Williams was one of the few men of vision on Kingston Council in the mid-19th century. He came to Kingston in 1851 to take over the Griffin Hotel, which was at such a low ebb it was on the point of closure.

He carried out extensive improvements, and made the place so fashionable it attracted Royal guests and was authorised to display the Royal arms.

Williams then applied his enormous energies to town matters, being elected councillor in 1855, alderman in 1862 and serving three terms as mayor.

He soon made bitter enemies in the Guildhall. Some resented that a newcomer should so swiftly make his mark.

Others misjudged his enthusiasm as conceit. Still more despised him socially.

There's no room here to detail his courageous tale. Suffice it to say that without him we would have no Fairfield in Kingston today, and probably no Queen's Promenade either.

Kingston town at that time was being so swiftly developed that Williams thought it vital to preserve an open green space as a "recreation ground for the people".

His dream was to enclose 15 acres of the Fairfield. He began fundraising in 1859, but thanks to the inertia of townspeople and the venomous hostility of some councillors, there was no enclosure until 1865.

Even then, it was 12 acres instead of the hoped-for 15, and Williams paid for most of it from his own pocket.

He got no gratitude. His council foes so vilified him that he was obliged to avoid the council chamber altogether. And when his last term as mayor ended, he was even denied the customary vote of thanks.

It wasn't until 1889 that the Fairfield Recreation Ground was properly laid out and formally declared open. John Williams wasn't there.

He had died suddenly in 1872, his end hastened, it was said, by the effort expended on his cherished Fairfield, and the hurt inflicted on him by his foes.

The Comet mourned his end.

"Had he received the benefit of a good education, he would have been capable of taking his place among any representative men in his class," it declared, lamenting "all the disadvantages under which he laboured and the uphill and unequal struggle he had to fight in Kingston."

May Bate Close honours a resident of Lower Ham Road who, after her death in 1996, was described by Kingston Council as "more committed to the local environment than any individual during the past 12 years."

She anonymously donated thousands of pounds from her own purse to treeplanting in Canbury Gardens, the care of historic buildings (including Kingston Market House) and many other projects that have enhanced local life for us all.

She was also the founder of the Canbury and Riverside Association, and represented Kingston on the River Thames Society.

Converted for the new archive on 30 June 2000. Some images and formatting may have been lost in the conversion.