The History of Wandsworth Common

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Further Notes on Mount Nod
A Gazetteer, and an Open Question

Build 4 — 12 Aug 2026

Research notes compiled by Philip Boys, drawing on material gathered via ChatGPT, fact-checked by Claude (Anthropic), August 2026. Working notes — more to follow.


[Wandsworth's own Mount Nod — the Huguenot burial ground at the top of East Hill — turns out not to be alone. The same name, and a close cousin of it ("Mount Noddy"), crops up at a surprising number of other places across England, mostly but not quite entirely in the southeast. Nobody has ever satisfactorily explained where the name comes from. This page gathers what's been found so far, including a full transcription of the fullest piece of research anyone has done on the question — as a starting point for further digging, rather than a finished answer.]


The Gazetteer

Besides Wandsworth's own Mount Nod, at least eight other places in England carry the name Mount Nod or its close variant Mount Noddy. Four are clustered in south London; two more sit either side of the Kent/Sussex border; a further eight (per one specialist study) form a cluster across the Sussex Weald; and one, oddly, is 100 miles away in the West Midlands.

Mount Nod Fields, Clapham/Battersea, Surrey Confirmed — but now contested

Rather than a modern street name, this preserves an old field-name attached to a mound on the old boundary between Clapham and Battersea, near Cedars Road. The antiquarian Walter Johnson recorded it in 1903, treating it as possibly prehistoric:

“There still exists, near Cedars Road, Clapham, what may possibly be a round barrow. It is in the garden of a house opposite St. Saviour's Church, and is visible to anyone passing along the old, narrow passage called Wix's Lane. Mr. J. W. Grover, who brought the matter before the Archaeological Association in 1884, had been struck by the discovery that old maps marked the spot ‘Mount Nod Fields.’ … The mound must originally have been 70 or 80 feet across, but had been tampered with on one side for the construction of an ice-house. Mr. Grover suggested that the mound may be of Celtic date.”

Grover's original paper is cited as “Mount Nod, Clapham,” Journal of the [British] Archaeological Association, vol. 40, 1884 — and this checks out. The mound itself is now destroyed.

Correction to the source: Johnson's discussion of this mound is in his Neolithic Man in North-East Surrey (Elliot Stock, London, 1903) — not Byways in British Archaeology, as first reported. Both are genuine Walter Johnson titles, but Byways is a separate, later book (1912). Easy to conflate; worth keeping straight if this goes any further.

A competing account. Michael Green's 2010 article on the nearby (and separate) Mount Pond, in the course of discussing that different mound, states in passing that the Cedars Road mound was not prehistoric at all, but a deliberately built 18th-century garden feature — see the full transcription immediately below. This isn't a case of one source being simply wrong: Johnson himself only ever said "may possibly be" a barrow, careful to withhold judgement pending excavation; Green, writing over a century later with the benefit of Banner's 1930 research, states the garden-mound origin as settled fact, with a builder's name and a date. Nobody consulted here has reconciled the two accounts, and it's not obvious that they need reconciling — an artificial 18th-century mound could easily have been raised over, or immediately next to, an genuinely older feature; equally, "may possibly be" could simply have been superseded by better research. Left open here rather than resolved.

Mount Pond, Clapham Common New material, transcribed in full

A different, larger mound elsewhere on Clapham Common (not the Cedars Road one, though the two turn out to be connected). Michael Green, in a 2010 article for the Clapham Society, argues this one probably was a genuine prehistoric or Anglo-Saxon barrow — based on aerial photography showing a string of barrow-ditches nearby, and an early map showing a mound in the right spot before the pond was dug. It's included here in full because, in passing, it directly addresses the Cedars Road/Mount Nod mound too — and gives a very different account of it from Johnson and Grover's "possible round barrow."

Mount Pond, Clapham Common: Archaeology and History

by Michael Green RIBA FSA

The Clapham Society, 5 December 2009 (dated February 2010 at the foot of the article)

Prehistoric Burial Mound

In my book, Historic Clapham, I have identified a prehistoric (or possibly Anglo-Saxon) barrow field on the north-west side of Clapham Common (Fig. 1). The ditches of a string of former burial mounds were visible on the aerial photo commissioned by this writer and taken on 16.9.03 by English Heritage (NMR 21923/35). These burial mounds appear on the cartographic survey of London and the surrounding countryside ‘ten miles round’ prepared by John Rocque (ground survey 1741–5) and published in 1746. (Darlington and Howgego, 94).

To the south of these mounds is another possible barrow, clearly shown on the 1746 map (Fig. 2), in the right position for the Mount, but without the pond. It is extremely likely therefore that the Mount started life as a burial mound, the only one surviving intact in this part of south London. In the Saxon period such mounds (as identified on Wandsworth Common also), were used as boundary markers, which may well have been the case here also since Mount Pond is close to the traditional boundary of the Battersea-Clapham parishes.

There is therefore a strong case for a proper archaeological excavation of the Mount, especially since it may be designated for conservation work under proposals under consideration, at the time of writing, by Lambeth Council. English Heritage has taken a close interest in archaeological work in Clapham, and has expressed interest.

Post Medieval Windmill Site

There is a strong possibility that as one of the highest points of the Common (30m.O.D.) the Mount at a later stage of its life in the post medieval period was used as the site of a windmill. In the property Extent papers of 1616 of Sir Henry Atkins, two windmills are mentioned in Clapham. The site of one of these is approximately known: it lay behind the site of the Windmill tavern on South Side. The other windmill is briefly mentioned in the 1710 boundary litigation case between Battersea and Clapham. A witness mentions that a mill stood in the vicinity of Balham Wood Lane (now Nightingale Lane) which is a short distance to the southwest of the Mount. Both windmills had been removed by the time Rocque carried out his survey 1741-5.

If indeed there was a windmill on top of the Mount it would have been of a postmill type (Fig.3): taken from the London Copperplate map of 1553-9. The only archaeological evidence that is likely to survive on top of the original mound are the sleeper trenches and/or masonry pads for the cross trees. These are large horizontal beams laid in a cross formation, the ends of which rested on masonry or brick piers at the base of the trestle of the post mill.

18th Century Garden Features

A map of ‘1745’ (Fig. 4) is an early plan of the Common and the first to show the Mount Pond. The drawing was transcribed by a Mr Nicholson from a M.S. plan in the British Museum (now relocated to the British Library). It had evidently been carefully surveyed and shows properties around the margins of the Common in the mid 18th century. On the North Side The Elms was not erected by Thomas Page until 1754 and Hore Esq (Henry Hoare) did not build The Grove until 1753. The attributed date, therefore, is too early and should be at least ten years later. Of particular interest is the encampment for a battery of Royal Artillery on the West Side near the Mount Pond, presumably for manoeuvres.

In 1748 Mr Henton Brown of Cavendish House, South Side (site of Cavendish Parade) applied to the vestry meeting of Clapham Parish for “leave to enclose with close pales, the pond he had made on that part of the Common where the post and rails now stand; the Parish gave consent, he paying to the poor of the parish 5s”. (Batten, 139). The date of the construction of the Mount Pond is therefore 1747 or 1748. The plan (Fig. 4) indicates that it was dug in stages, probably originally with a ring of water round the mound, and later extended to the west and north. The upcast was thrown on top of the existing mound heightening it (all of which would become evident from archaeological excavations). On top of the heightened Mount Henton Brown erected a summerhouse so that he might entertain his guests there. He also piped water from the pond across the road to his residence (Smith 1976, 79).

The pond may have had its origins as a gravel pit for local roadmaking, but was obviously adapted as a landscape feature by Henton Brown. Its 18th/19th century appearance is shown in landscape paintings by Joseph Powell c. 1818-23 (Fig 5). Viewing mounds with a summerhouse on top were fashionable in Clapham at this period.

Another constructed out of the debris of the West Wood boundary bank near Wix's Lane by William Hewer c. 1711-12 was also called the Mount (later Mount Nod). It survived until the late 19th century behind No. 17 Cedars Road (Banner, 177).

The Benjamin Franklin Connection

In the 1760s or early 1770s the Mount pond is extremely likely to have been the scene of significant early scientific experiments which makes the site of more than local interest, indeed of international repute. Benjamin Franklin (1706-1790), an important founding father of the United States, was staying with his friend Mr Christopher Baldwin at The Grange on West Side (pulled down c. 1900). Franklin who was an outstanding experimental scientist (as well as a politician) initiated scientific experiments on the water of Clapham Common ponds.

Eric Smith, in Clapham Saints and Sinners, writes: ‘…letters from Baldwin to Franklin have survived and are now in the library of the Philosophical Society in Philadelphia.

In a published account (1774) of his experiments, Franklin said that it was on Clapham Common that he had first tried pouring oil on troubled waters. Baldwin in a letter, 5 March 1779, writes, “Think for a moment of the pleasure we have had in smoothing the ruffled surface of the ponds [a misquotation – Baldwin wrote ‘pond’ – singular] on our Common, between me and neighbour Brown.” [and as “neighbour Brown” was the banker Henton Brown, who lived at Cavendish House, the pond in question must have been Mount Pond]. Baldwin writes again, 18 February 1783, “Look, my dear Sir, at the place from whence this is dated… have you forgot the many pleasant hours you have passed here? No, you have not. Have you forgot your throwing oil on the Pond near me, and instantly smoothing the troubled water – impossible!”.’ (Smith 1987, 50).

By this stage of his life however Benjamin Franklin must have been wholly preoccupied by political affairs across the Atlantic. In 1776 he was actively involved in framing the Declaration of Independence, and as a skilled negotiator he successfully won Britain's recognition of U.S. Independence (1783) and from then on played an outstanding public role in the early history of the United States. His earlier scientific research work began in 1746 when he began his research into electricity proving that it and lightning are identical. Baldwin was a resident at The Grange from 1762 to 1778, during which period the Franklin experiments must have been carried out. Lysons, an early historian of the Common, writes that the state of the Common in 1796 ‘owes its present improvements to the good taste and exertions of Christopher Baldwin Esq’ (Lysons, 162).

February 2010

Bibliography (as printed):
Banner, A, Surrey Archaeological Collections vol. 38, 1930
Batten, HN, Key and Companion to the Plan of Clapham with its Common and Environs, 1827
Darlington, I, and Howgego, JL, Printed Maps of London c. 1553-1850, 1964
Green, HJM, Historic Clapham, 2009, 2nd edition
Lysons, Revd Daniel, The Environs of London Vol II Clapham, 1796
Smith, Eric EF, Clapham, 1976
Smith, Eric EF, Clapham Saints and Sinners, 1987

[The load-bearing sentence for our purposes is the one about William Hewer's mound, which the article otherwise doesn't dwell on at all — it's a single aside inside a piece mainly about a different landmark. Hewer's dates (c.1711-12) would make this mound roughly contemporary with, or slightly earlier than, Wandsworth's own use of Mount Nod as a burial ground for the Huguenots (in use from c.1687, per earlier research on this site) — so if there's any real connection between the naming of the Wandsworth site and this Clapham/Battersea one, an early-18th-century "fashion for mock-grand mound names" (compare Leppard's theory above) is at least chronologically plausible, though nobody has actually proposed this link; it's speculation here, not a claim from either source.]

Mount Nod Road, Streatham Hill, Lambeth Confirmed

Still an existing road, appearing on both historical and modern maps. Lambeth's own local-history material confirms it, and a c.1970 photograph is catalogued as “Mount Nod, Streatham Hill.” A comment on one Wandsworth history blog notes it takes its name from Mount Nod Farm, the land it was built on — and lists it as one of “four Mount Nods in South London”, alongside Wandsworth, Battersea, and a fourth in Lewisham (since cleared and redeveloped as a housing estate).

Mount Nod, Broadwater Down, Tunbridge Wells Unconfirmed

Reported as recorded at Broadwater Down, on the edge of Tunbridge Wells, with evidence said to go back to a late-18th/early-19th-century map, and surviving as “Mount Nod House” at 38 Broadwater Down. Several searches turned up nothing to corroborate this — no historic map reference, no “Mount Nod House” in current or historic property records. That doesn't make it wrong, only unverified so far; Broadwater Down was developed as a Victorian villa estate from the 1850s, which would sit oddly with an 18th-century map reference, so this one may repay a closer look at Tunbridge Wells's own local-history archives.

Mount Nod, Greenhithe, Kent Address confirmed; assessment not traced

A substantial place/property on London Road, Greenhithe, said to be documented in a 2007 archaeological assessment, Land at Mount Nod, London Road, Greenhithe, Kent. The assessment itself didn't turn up in search, but the address is very much real and current: individually numbered flats (2, 26, 33 Mount Nod, London Road) appear in present-day property records, confirming the name survives as a live postal address — though the numbering runs well past the “1–8” first reported.

Mount Nod, Coventry Confirmed — the exception

An established district of western Coventry, between Lower Eastern Green and the A45, not merely a school name — Coventry City Council itself describes Mount Nod as a locality, and the name is embedded in the local street pattern (Mount Nod Way, Nod Rise), not just borrowed by the school. A related field-name, simply “Mount Nod,” is recorded in the neighbouring parish of Stoneleigh, Warwickshire, as early as 1821 (Survey of English Place-Names). This pair, roughly 100 miles from every other example on this page, is the striking exception to an otherwise strongly southeastern pattern — and interestingly, it's the one other place M. J. Leppard's Sussex study (below) explicitly cross-references.


Mount Noddy: A Weald Cluster

Beyond the "Mount Nod" examples above, a related name — Mount Noddy — turns up repeatedly across the Sussex Weald. M. J. Leppard, researching for the East Grinstead Society and the Mount Noddy Allotment Association, traced examples at East Grinstead (the recreation ground and cemetery), Cowden, Danehill, Turners Hill, Fletching, Anstye, Slindon, East Ashling, and Bosham — and then explicitly linked these to Mount Nod at Broadwater Down and Mount Nod in Coventry, treating them as the same naming phenomenon.

Philip has since tracked down a properly readable copy of Leppard's article — "Mount Noddy," pp.9–11 of an East Grinstead Society Bulletin — and it confirms the details above, in most cases in more nuanced form than the paraphrase suggested. Full transcription follows.

Mount Noddy

M. J. Leppard

[Photo caption in the original: Mount Noddy in 1928 (Frith postcard 81486). St Johns Road is off the picture on the left, the tennis courts off it on the right. A shelter has replaced the cottage.]

Everyone in East Grinstead knows Mount Noddy recreation ground and cemetery. How “the Noddy” got its name and what was there before are questions frequently asked.

The cemetery was opened in 1916 [1], the recreation ground apparently in 1911 [2], possibly earlier. Previously they were two fields, listed in the 1841 tithe survey as Mount Hoddy (an error in transcription) belonging to Blackwell Farm and Noddy belonging to Moat Farm. The earliest known reference is in a book of maps of the Saint Hill estate in 1776 [3] where the fields of Moat Farm include “Mow Knotty” — a delightful example of a “foreign” surveyor's attempt to write exactly what he heard a native tell him. A cottage (illustrated above) was built in 1831 by an aunt of A. H. Hastie [4] and demolished, if memory serves, in the late 1940s. It too was called Mount Noddy.

The name is not uncommon; locally there are or were instances at Cowden, Danehill and Turners Hill; further afield in Sussex at Fletching, Anstye, Slindon, East Ashling and Bosham. At Broadwater Down, on the edge of Tunbridge Wells, there was a Mount Nod: and Mount Nod is also the name of an area of modern Coventry. Danehill's Mount Noddy, a field first recorded in the 1740s, gave its name to Noddy Lane alongside and later to a nearby Jacobean house whose earlier name seems unknown [5]. The Bosham, Cowden and Fletching examples come from tithe surveys of c.1840, that at Broadwater Down from a late 18th or early 19th century map [6]. There appear to be no examples earlier than the 18th century.

Any explanation of the name should be applicable to all the instances. Dr Golding-Bird's confident “derived from a traditional shrine to the Roman god, Nodens” [7] and the Danehill Parish Historical Society's tortuous connection with the Nordelands or Northlands of which their Mount Noddy was a part [5] both lack any supporting evidence.

The currently prevailing explanation seems to have been first put in print by our own W. H. Hills, referring to the local iron industry: “The scoria of the iron ore was variously known as slag, slug, shag, noddy or cinders and great quantities of this waste material accumulated in many places. So Mount Noddy was possibly originally nothing but a noddy or a cinder heap.” [4] Ernest Straker, the pioneer of the systematic study of the industry, says the same, “a name for slag,” in a parenthetical explanation of the field names Long Noddy, Noddy Mead, Noddy Pasture and Mount Noddy at Cowden [8]. His word is accepted by the authority on Sussex place-names, Dr Richard Coates of the university of Sussex [9].

Straker used his Cowden names as supporting evidence for a bloomery obliterated by the nearby railway but testified to by vermiform cinder around it. In the Noddy fields he found traces of ore and very large minepits. Subsequent investigators have reversed this procedure, seeking evidence of iron working to explain their Mount Noddy. Thus three large minepits are noted as adjoining that at Danehill [5] and the Bosham one is near a former Hammer Field and a pond [9].

It seems to me, however, that this explanation is “not proven”. Slindon, East Ashling and Bosham are well away from the iron working areas of the county. The East Grinstead and Turners Hill examples are not near iron working sites. Slag could, of course, be dumped elsewhere, for a reason; normally it seems to have been transported only for road building. Pits, often now ponds, were created by digging for marl or brick earth as well as for mine (iron ore). Moreover there is no evidence of iron slag at our Mount Noddy. Furthermore I have come across no examples of noddy as a word in its own right for slag in any other published work on either the Sussex dialect (including annotated copies) or the Wealden iron industry, whether before or after Hills and Straker. (The lack of interest in the word by the Wealden Iron Research Group and the definitive work it sponsored [10] may be significant.)

Two questions are left to answer: Where did Hills and Straker get their definition from? and What is the explanation of the place-name?

Straker (died 1941) at Reigate and Hills (died 1932) at East Grinstead could well have met or corresponded. Hills regarded himself as an authority on the Sussex dialect [11] and could conceivably have heard the word “noddy” in use, though the Wealden iron industry was long dead and already the subject of research before he was born. Alternatively he read or was told it (not necessarily reliably) or made a guess.

A satisfactory explanation of the name can only come after a complete collection of examples of its distribution, with dates and other relevant information, and expert analysis. That would need the co-operation of numerous researchers, hardly a task for our Society though we may hope to provoke some responses and publish further information or ideas.

Meanwhile the best I can suggest, with all due diffidence, is that the name is one of those ironic ones (like Little London or Slab Castle) that seem to have become popular in the 18th century. Tunbridge Wells started a trend with Mount Sion, Mount Ephraim and Mount Pleasant as the names (with the Walks) of its original “villages” in the 17th century. Mount Pleasant, for example, is found at Lingfield and also at Chalvington and Westham in Sussex. Noddy as a word for a fool, simpleton or noodle is traced back to 1530 by the Shorter Oxford English Dictionary. All the Mount Noddys seem to be somewhat isolated places, away from centres of habitation. This argument would be stronger if they began as house-names rather than field-names, but once a fashion starts it is employed with decreasing discrimination. So the original Mount Noddy lends its second element to adjacent fields.

References (as printed):
[1] G. Golding-Bird, East Grinstead and its Parish Church (1931), p.4
[2] Mrs V. Z. Garmonsway in E.G.S. Bulletin 28 (Spring 1980), p.3
[3] recently transferred from Worthing public library to the West Sussex County Record Office
[4] E.G. Observer, 21 July 1917
[5] Danehill Parish Historical Society Magazine, vol.2, no.5 (Aug. 1983), pp.3f.
[6] Fletching and Broadwater Down ex inf. J. Pettitt; Cowden see ref.8 below; Bosham see ref.9
[7] see ref.1 above; in subsequent editions he prudently inserts “possibly”
[8] Wealden Iron (1931), p.231
[9] Sussex Archaeological Society Newsletter 29 (Dec. 1979), p.194
[10] H. Cleere and D. Crossley, The Iron Industry of the Weald (1985)
[11] E.G. Observer, 21 June 1923

Transcriber's notes: ref. [1]'s title is expanded here from an abbreviated “E. Grinstead” in the original. Immediately below this article, the same page carries an unrelated running feature, “Local References in Sussex Archaeological Collections (continued),” an index of other articles across several Bulletin volumes — that's bulletin furniture rather than part of Leppard's piece, so it isn't transcribed here.

Leppard found no examples of the name earlier than the 18th century, anywhere.

[That argues against a genuinely ancient origin for the name — interesting, given that at least two of the sites it attaches to (the Clapham/Battersea barrow, and possibly the Wandsworth burial ground itself, which long pre-dates its 17th-century use as a Huguenot cemetery) are or may be much older than the name currently applied to them. It would mean the name was given to old places, rather than being old itself — which is its own small mystery.]

What Does the Name Mean?

Nobody has pinned this down — and Leppard's article, now read in full, turns out to be considerably more skeptical and more interesting than the earlier paraphrase suggested. He does reject a derivation from Nodens, the Romano-British god associated with the Lydney temple in Gloucestershire (later borrowed by Tolkien for Sauron's name) — but only in passing, as one of two theories he dismisses for lacking supporting evidence, the other being a strained connection to "Nordelands/Northlands" proposed by the Danehill Parish Historical Society.

The theory he actually engages with at length is the iron-slag explanation — "noddy" as a dialect word for the waste scoria (slag) left over from iron smelting, a trade the Sussex Weald was famous for. This was first put in print by W. H. Hills in 1917 and repeated by Ernest Straker, the leading historian of the Wealden iron industry, in 1931; Straker's word was in turn accepted by Dr Richard Coates, the standard modern authority on Sussex place-names. It's a good story, and it's the one that made it into the ChatGPT summary that started this page — but Leppard doesn't accept it. His own Mount Noddy has no iron-working sites nearby and no evidence of slag ever being found there; three of the other instances (Slindon, East Ashling, Bosham) are "well away from the iron working areas of the county" entirely; and, tellingly, he can't find "noddy" used as a word for slag anywhere else — not in Sussex dialect glossaries, not in the Wealden iron-industry literature, before or after Hills and Straker first claimed it. He suspects Hills may simply have made an educated guess, or misremembered something read or heard.

Leppard's own tentative suggestion, offered "with all due diffidence," is different again: that Mount Noddy is one of a class of deliberately ironic 18th-century names — humble fields and cottages dressed up with a mock-grand "Mount," on the model of the genuinely grand Mount Sion, Mount Ephraim and Mount Pleasant that Tunbridge Wells gave its fashionable new quarters in the 17th century, with "Noddy" (a word for a fool or simpleton, traceable to 1530) supplying the joke. On this reading, the name isn't really about slag, or a Roman god, or anything buried in the ground at all — it's a piece of 18th-century humour at a humble field's expense, which then stuck.

A further possibility, not mentioned in Leppard's article at all, is the biblical Land of Nod — the place east of Eden to which Cain was banished after killing Abel (Genesis 4:16), traditionally associated with wandering or exile, and used idiomatically in English since at least the 18th century as a jocular name for sleep ("the land of Nod"). Either sense — exile, or eternal rest — would suit a burial ground rather well, and might explain why the name recurs so often near cemeteries, allotments, and quiet corners of common land. Whether that's a real, independent strand, or just another flavour of the same 18th-century wordplay Leppard describes, is exactly the kind of question worth digging into further — and it's worth noting Leppard's own timeframe (no examples before the 18th century) fits a biblical/literary joke just as comfortably as it fits his own "mock-grand name" theory.


Fact-Check

This material arrived via ChatGPT, and Claude (Anthropic) was asked to check it against primary and secondary sources where traceable online. A summary of what was and wasn't possible to confirm:

ClaimResult
Clapham/Battersea barrow & “Mount Nod Fields”Confirmed as a real place and name, with the source title corrected (see above) — but its status as a genuine prehistoric barrow is now contested by a second primary source (see below)
Grover's 1884 paper to the Archaeological AssociationConfirmed — exact citation matches
Green (2010), “Mount Pond, Clapham Common” — Cedars Road mound built c.1711-12 by William Hewer, not prehistoricNew, from a primary source Philip supplied directly — not independently cross-checked against Green's own source (Banner, 1930) but the article itself is genuine and fully transcribed above
Mount Nod Road, StreathamConfirmed
Mount Nod, Coventry, and Mount Nod, StoneleighConfirmed
Mount Nod, Greenhithe — addressConfirmed as a live, current address
Mount Nod, Greenhithe — 2007 archaeological assessmentNot traced independently
Mount Nod, Broadwater DownNot traced independently — no corroborating source found
Mount Noddy cluster (East Grinstead, Danehill, Turners Hill, etc.)Confirmed — full Leppard article now transcribed above
“Mow Knotty” (1776) and “Mount Hoddy and Noddy” (1841)Confirmed — exact wording matches Leppard's article
Nodens theory rejectedConfirmed, though it's a minor aside in the original, not a headline finding
Iron-slag theory “considered”Corrected — Leppard actively argues against it, with specific evidence (no slag found, several sites nowhere near iron-working areas, no other attestation of “noddy” = slag); the original notes made this sound like a live candidate rather than a theory he's rebutting
Leppard's own preferred theoryNew — not in the original ChatGPT notes at all: a deliberately ironic 18th-century “mock-grand” name, on the model of Tunbridge Wells's Mount Sion/Ephraim/Pleasant

On the geographical pattern that started this whole enquiry: taken together, this new material makes “nearly all in southeast England” a better-supported claim than it looked after the first pass, which only turned up the four South London examples. With the Sussex Weald cluster and the two Kent examples added, the count runs to somewhere around a dozen or more instances across London, Kent, and Sussex — against a single, genuinely anomalous pair in the West Midlands (Coventry and Stoneleigh), which even Leppard's own research treats as the exception worth noting rather than part of the main pattern.


Sources

Johnson, Walter, Neolithic Man in North-East Surrey, Elliot Stock: London, 1903.

Grover, J. W., “Mount Nod, Clapham,” Journal of the [British] Archaeological Association, vol. 40, 1884.

Green, Michael, RIBA FSA, “Mount Pond, Clapham Common: Archaeology and History,” The Clapham Society, 5 December 2009 (article dated February 2010): claphamsociety.com/Articles/article7. Transcribed in full above from a copy supplied by Philip Boys, 12 August 2026.

“Cedars Road, Clapham, Surrey,” The Northern Antiquarian, 12 March 2021: thenorthernantiquarian.org/2021/03/12/cedars-road

“Mount Nod,” Survey of English Place-Names (Stoneleigh, Warwickshire entry): epns.nottingham.ac.uk [link broken – check. In August 2026 the only reference I could find was to Mount Nod in Stoneleigh, Warwickshire.]

“History of the Allotment Site,” Mount Noddy Allotment Association: mountnoddyallotments.org.uk

Leppard, M. J., “Mount Noddy,” pp.9–11 of an East Grinstead Society Bulletin (issue/date not yet identified); transcribed in full above from a copy supplied by Philip Boys, 12 August 2026.

“History of Mount Noddy cemetery,” East Grinstead Town Council: eastgrinstead.gov.uk

“Mount Nod: the almost forgotten resting place of Wandsworth's Huguenots,” Flickering Lamps, 12 September 2014 (see reader comments for the “four Mount Nods in South London” note): flickeringlamps.com


[Next steps, if you want to keep pulling this thread: it would be worth pinning down which East Grinstead Society Bulletin (issue and date) Leppard's article actually came from, for a complete citation. Tunbridge Wells's local archives might settle the Broadwater Down question one way or the other. It would also be worth testing Leppard's own "mock-grand ironic name" theory against Wandsworth specifically — is there any 18th-century evidence of the burial ground, or the land before it, being called something else first, the way East Grinstead's fields were plain "Mount Hoddy" and "Noddy" before the joke stuck? And so far nobody consulted here has proposed a link between the Wandsworth Mount Nod specifically and this wider cluster — that connection, if it exists at all, still has to be made.]

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