Pushing water up a hill …… looking for Mr. Mills in 1851

 Sometimes you know you are on a loser, but a mix of curiosity and a bit of stubbornness allied to the sheer fascination of digging deep into the past won’t allow you to stop.

John Broome and Jonathan Mills, 1828

And so it was with John Broome and Jonathan Mills who I first came across in a court case in 1828.

They were alleged to have taken part in a very nasty piece of vindictive bullying against a fellow apprentice in the Soho Iron Works in New Islington.

So far I haven’t been able to find out their fate at the Quarter Sessions only that they had both been ordered to find “sureties of £20 each to answer to any indictment at the sessions which having found, they were discharged”.*

Now £20 was a lot of money and there is no indication as to how they raised it.

But that was enough to set me off.

Not that I expected I would find out much.

After all we were dealing with two young men in 1828, who might not have lived long enough to make it into either the 1841 or 1851 census, and who any way could have moved away from Manchester or just slipped through the historical records.

Arthur Street, 1851

And it wasn’t a promising start because there wete plenty of John Broome’s in Manchester in the 1850s, but none quite fitted the profile.

Johnathan Miller was a tad different, because I found a Johnathan Miller on both the 1851 census in the Rate Books. This Mr. Mills gave his occupation as “Mechanic” and his age of 42 would have meant he was 19 in 1828, so just possibly still an apprentice.  

6 Arthur Street, 1901

He was living at 12 Arthur Street with his wife and three children in the heart of Ancoats, surrounded by textile mills engineering works and other industrial premises, all of which used machine power and in turn would have employed mechanics.

The family had been there from at least 1845 and were still there eight years later.  A decade later the family on Ashton New Road in Audenshaw and he described himself as a “labourer in a Chemical works”.  

I doubt we will ever now why he slipped down from a skilled job to being a labourer and while it is attractive to speculate it will not get us anywhere.

Of course this whole trail is based at present on two census returns and the assumption that this is our man, and that is a big assumption.

But the search did reveal a little bit about Arthur Street, which was bounded on two side by the River Medlock and on a third side by a railway viaduct and was located to the south of Fairfield Street closes to London Road Railway Station. 

It is now under the new development which is Mayfield. 

The family were paying a weekly rent of 3/8d and the maps of the period and a series of photographs taken around 1900 suggest that they were two up two down terraced properties.

Back of 6 Arthur Street, 1901

So a step up from the back to backs which many occupied but sufficiently close to the river and heavy industry to have offered little in the way of green verdant pastures.

And there the search for Jonathan Mills peters out,  reminding us that even if this is our man plenty of that water has flown back down the hill to make him and his family pretty obscure.

Location; Manchester in the mid 19th century

Pictures; extract from the Manchester Guardian, 1828, deatil of Adhead’s map of Manchester in 1851, courtesy of Digital Archives Association, http://digitalarchives.co.uk/, the site in 2023, courtesy of Goggle Maps, and 6 Arthur Street, m10771, Back of 6 Arthur Street, Bradburn A,m10771, Back of 6 Arthur Street, Bradburn A,m10772 courtesy of Manchester Libraries, Information and Archives, Manchester City Council, http://images.manchester.gov.uk/index.php?session=pass

Arthur Street, now part of the Mayfield development, 2023

*Manchester Guardian, July 5th 1828

Back at the Imperial Cinema on Chorlton Road

The Imperial in 1980

I am back with the old Imperial Cinema on Chorlton Road with some of Andy Robertson’s pictures.

Like so many of our old picture houses it suffered from a shrinking cinema audience although it lasted into the 1980s.

But the building has survived and Andy was able to record some of its interior which gives a hint at its former grandeur.

And as I have promised over the next few weeks it will reappear on the blog and I am hoping these pictures will encourage people to come up with their memories of the place.

Inside the Imperial, 2014

In the meantime I remember that Derek Southall in his excellent book on Manchester’s picture house quoted at least one person who thought the Imperial was a cut above the other cinemas in the area.*







Pictures; the Imperial in 1980, m09229, courtesy of Manchester Libraries, Information and Archives, Manchester City Council, http://images.manchester.gov.uk/index.php?session=pass and today from the collection of Andy Robertson, with a thank you to Imperial Timber 166-172 Chorlton Rd Manchester M16 7WW‎ 0161 226 9190its former grandeur.

*The Golden Years of Manchester's Picture Houses, Derek J Southall, http://www.thehistorypress.co.uk/index.php/the-golden-years-of-manchesters-picture-houses.html#sthash.K4JJYJv9.dpuf

A bit more of the “other side” of London life in 1851

"The first rats I caught was when I was about nine years of age. I ketched them an Mr Strickland’s a large cow keeper, in Little Albany –street, in Regent’s park.”  

Now if you wanted a pretty colourful way of being invited into the life of a nine year old on the streets of London this is as good as you can get.

It comes from observations of Henry Mayhew whose descriptions of London life appeared first as articles in the London daily press, and were then published under the title London Labour & the London Poor in 1851.*

And the rat catcher Jack Black was just one of hundreds Mr Mayhew interviewed.

Just over a century later my edition of Mayhew’s London was issued, bought by mum and long ago passed to me, and for Christmas our Saul bought me a new edition.

All of which I like because of that sense of continuity.

And like so many books which reported on the conditions of the working classes in the 19th century it has a direct relevance to BHC because although the scheme began almost a full twenty years after Mayhew began publishing his accounts, many of those who walked across his pages will have had children and some of those might have been migrated.

Now that is not to suggest for one minute that most of the people he wrote about were feckless or bad parents merely that his stories show those Londoners on the very margin and by extension could represent the urban poor in any one of a dozen British towns.

And that makes his book compelling reading because there is no doubt that a full two or three decades after its publication a lot of the descriptions in London life could be replicated.

I have no idea what happened to Jack Black who went on to tell Henry Mayhew “at that time Little Albany –street, in Regent’s park was all fields and meaders in them parts  and I recollect there was a big orchard on one side of the sheds I was only doing it for a game ........... When a rat bite touches the bone, it makes you faint .... in a minute and it bleeds dreadful.”

What is interesting is that amongst all the gruesome details of rat catching Mr Black revealed that at the age of 15 he had got interested in birds and during his conversation he gave a series of renditions  of different bird songs.

On one level we shouldn’t be surprised but it does challenge that picture that many have of the urban poor in the middle of the 19th century.

And that is all I am going to say, other than that it is a fascinating read.

And one I shall return to ... again and again.**

Location; London

Picture; the Boys Crossing-sweepers,  from London Labour & the London Poor 1851

*Henry Mayhew, Introduction, London Labour & the London Poor 1851

**A bit of the “other side” of London life in 1851 ................. stories from Henry Mayhew, 
https://chorltonhistory.blogspot.com/2020/05/a-bit-of-other-side-of-london-life-in.html

All you ever wanted to know about how we got our power across Greenwich and Woolwich

 I am a great admirer of Mary Mills and her work which over the years has revealed the industrial archaeology of where I grew up.

Entitled “Power Generation Sites in Greenwich and Woolwich”* it is her most recent book and explores all aspects of how power was supplied across the borough and beyond.

Here can be found descriptions of the many and varied sources of power from wind, water and tidal mills along with coal, gas and electrical power.

And includes “'Woolwich's 'Secret City' - the Royal Arsenal - along with the oldest power station, as we would understand it, in the world, the largest installation for town gas storage ever and one of the first to generate power from domestic waste. 

This is a non-technical work aimed at the general reader and all those interested in how our world today developed”.

Starting in the Middle Ages the book moves through to the 21st century with the Optic Cloak at the Greenwich Energy Centre on the Peninsula and the innovative South East London Community Energy which “is a non-for-profit social enterprise. Formed by residents of Greenwich and Lewisham who want to play an active role in shaping the energy future of South East London …. taking action to combat climate change through generating renewable energy and tackle fuel poverty”.

It is one of those books which you can walk, with the locations of each site clearly outlined and speculation on those that have long gone as to what they might have looked like.  To this she has added plenty of old and contemporary images of the sites, supported by maps, and is fully referenced.

Amongst the images are the iconic Woolwich Tramshed fondly remembered by generations as the go to place for entertainment and the stunning cover to the story of Deptford Power Station.

And as an Eltham lad I couldn’t miss out our own Gas Works on a corner of Eltham Green and the failed attempt to build an earlier works behind Eltham High Street.

Added to which there is the intriguing suggestion of mills at Mottingham Lane, and at Horn Park Farm and “a mill or a series of mills at Lee in the Kidbrooke Parish area”.

All of which is fascinating and come with heaps of pictures of gasholders which I have to confess are another of those objects that fascinate me but are now very much an endangered “species”.

“Power Generation Sites in Greenwich and Woolwich” is priced at £15 and is available from Amazon and is the sixth publication by the author.**

Location Greenwich & Woolwich

Pictures; cover & illustration of Deptford Power Station from the book,and memories of a different use for the Tramshed, the badge circa 1970s, from the collection of Andrew Simpson

*Power Generation Sites in Greenwich and Woolwich by Dr MARY, 2026,  2026ISBN 979-81992-4195-3

**Greenwich Peninsula Greenwich Marsh A History of a Heartland, The Greenwich Riverside Upper Watergate to Angerstein, The Industries of Deptford Creek, The Early East London Gas Industry and George Livesey, A Biography

Travels with Radio 4 …..

I can think of no better reflection on David Hockney’s painting “A Bigger Splash” than Paddy O’Connel’s take on the picture and the life of the artist than his short sound broadcast of a diver leaping into a pond which was today’s entry into “Slow Radio”. "Possibly a first on radio and possibly the last".

Brixham days, 2022

Slow Radio is just one of the features I like on his programme Broadcasting House which goes out on a Sunday just after 9 am.

It’s never dull, covers a heap of topics from the topical, to the personal, the gentle and the downright daft, hence “Slow Radio” which is a short piece which can be the noise of a snail eating a lettuce to heavy raindrops before a downpour to the humming of old-fashioned telegraph wire.

And in between, before and after Mr. O‘Connel offers up a mix of reports, conversations and music. 

So, today’s edition included the “Royal Marine Commandos fast rope onto a Russian shadow fleet oil tanker in the English Channel. Scotland win their first World Cup match in 36 years. Radio 4 favourites Mark Steel, Sian Williams, Deborah Meadon and Giles Brandreth describe their secret holiday spots. 

Lemn Sissay returns to his childhood stomping ground Makerfield, who's by election is this week. 

On the news review Neil McIntosh, Cathy Newman and Alexander Dragonetti. Reverend Brian Anderson reflects on a traumatic week in Belfast. The Femmes De La Mer sing a sea shanty to mark the Falmouth sea shanty festival”.*

All of which was followed by the ever-interesting Desert Island Disc with the actor Anna Maxwell Martin who left me with the throw away lines “Get a grip, get on the ship” and “not being a Debbie Downer” which I know will join my collection of much used indeed over used sentence stoppers. And that memorable comment from Michelle Obama’s mum to her kids which was “Come home. We like you”. Simple, full of love and chimes in with me and any parent thinking of their own up children.

And still to come there is a documentary, that much loved comedy series “I’m Sorry I Haven’t A Clue", a bit of news, Drama on Four, when it will still only be 3pm.

So, to quote that line from a 1970s, advert “it’s got the lot”  and makes me reflect that Radio 4 remains one of our gifts to the civilized world.

Location; Radio 4

Pictures; A Bigger Splash it ain’t, Brixham 2022, from the collection of Andrew Simpson

*Broadcasting House, https://www.bbc.co.uk/sounds/play/m002xns2

Piffy on a rock bun …………… and other travels with my past

Now I have always taken those sayings of my youth for granted, and very rarely pondered on their origins or how they have survived from childhood and been passed on to my sons.

Me, 1961-62

Most pop up without any effort and roll off the tongue to fit the occasion.

There will be many that I grew up with, but a few are still regularly in use.  They include “piffy on a rock bun”, “the wreck of the Hesperus”, “black as Newgate’s knocker”, and “like the back of a tram smash”, all of which will be instantly recognized by anyone who was born in the first half of the last century.

They are what they are, instant comments on a situation, instantly used and then forgotten, but yesterday in a family conversation, it became apparent that our Polly had never heard the expression and was fascinated and amused when Joshua used it.

They were leaving to drive back to Leicester, I was on the doorstep watching, and Josh muttered “why is dad standing there ‘like piffy on a rock bun’?”.

Apparently, Polly had never heard Josh use the expression, but like his dad it will be rooted deep in his upbringing.

And that got me thinking about the shed loads of ones that are embedded deep in me.
Some are easier to track than others, and so “like the back of a tram smash” must come from mother and father, while others like Newgate’s knocker are much older.

Record sleeve, 1920s

Along the way there are a few more which I absorbed and can track specifically to a time and place.  Of these “like Reggie Page” is fixed in the years I was with Kay who grew up in the north east in Seaham Harbour and went to school with Reggie Page, who could never quite dress himself.

So, his socks were always at half mast, his shirt buttons wrongly fixed and on a very bad day, he managed to get his jumper on back to front.

And so, the saying was born, which stuck with me and still on occasion tumbles out to fit the moment.

What fascinates me, is that as some of these fade through time and pass out of common usage, others will surface.

In the same way some have a specific place of origin.  “Black as Newgate’s knocker", refers to the door handle of the old Newgate prison in London and will be one I heard from friends and their family, while “like piffy on a rock bun”, is apparently from the northwest, although mum who was from the Midlands and Dad from Gateshead both used it all the time.

Greenwich, 1979

Most I never questioned, and so it has been a surprise to me that “like a lemon” is the southern equivalent of “piffy on a rock bun”.

I suppose for generations many will have stayed local, but the advent of television and soaps like Coronation Street will have taken them in the front rooms of the entire country.

Of course, they sit with many more sayings which derive directly from popular shows on the radio and TV, which were either coined by the scriptwriters or made popular by a celebrity or comedian.

At which point I won’t show my age, or my preoccupation with the wireless over the television by quoting from ITMA, the Goons, or Take It From Here, and instead wonder just how many today will use the expression “the wreck of the Hesperus”, or know that it may originate from a poem by the US poet Henry Wadsworth Longfellow which was  in his collection Ballads and Other Poems, from 1841.

To which someone will mutter “well I’ll go to the foot of our stairs”.

Location; all over

Pictures, from the collection of Andrew Simpson

The skip ……. a man with a van …… and tales of recycling ….. with a nod to the dustman, shore man and sewer hunters

 There is a lot to be said for the recycling man with his van.

I say man, but there is more than one, and as like as not it will be a woman.

Some come quietly in the early morning while others will announce their presence with a loudspeaker alternating between bursts of music and the cry, “fridges, old boilers, pipes and assorted scrap”.

For those like me who were born in the first half of the last century, it brings back memories of the Rag and Bone Man who travelled the streets with a horse and cart and called for “any old iron” or whatever took his fancy.

Then like now it was a one-way trade in which you disposed of the goods, which he accepted and later would sort out and sell on.

As a form of recycling, it worked and does so again.

So early yesterday morning the man with the van stopped outside Sidney the skip, rooted round, picking out a sink and a couple of kitchen cupboards.

Being a discerning sort of chap, there were items he discarded having first pulled them out, inspected them before throwing them back.

Nor will he have been alone.  One skip close to us was visited three times one morning, with a different team calling the following day, when the skip was again almost full.

Now none of this is new, and a quick flick through the past will reveal the extent to which people of the mid-19th century made an even more precarious living from other people’s rubbish.

They were on the margins of poverty and garnered an income from sifting through the left behinds.

So, my Mayhew* written in the first half of the 19th century picked over occupations like the dustman, shore man and sewer hunters, all of whom found value in the valueless.

Shore workers worked the sewers, in “gangs of three and four for the sake of company, and in order to better defend themselves from the rats …… [finding] great quantities of money – of copper money especially; sometimes they dive their arm down to the elbow in the mud and filth and bring up shillings, sixpences, half crowns and sovereigns. **

Even more central to London life were the dustmen who carted away the dust and ash from the capital’s homes.  

Mayhew estimated that the consumption of coal in the metropolis was, 3,500,000 tons per annum which in turn created a vast mountain of ash and cinders, and as ever where there was muck there was money. 

Like everywhere that money was made by a handful of contractors while the dirty work fell to those they employed.

These men carried the ash to the dust yards where an army of labourer’s sifted through the rubbish which threw up oyster shells, old bricks, old boots and shoes, old ten kettles, as well as old rags and bones.  None of which could be recycled into brick making but ended up as hard core for new buildings or new roads.

While old shoes were sold to London shoemakers who used them to stuff between the in-sole and the outer one, leaving the rags and bones to be disposed of at the marine-store shops. ***

It is a story which is worth a deeper study, but for now I think I will just reflect that the passage of 170 or so years has left our man with his van marginally better off.

We shall see.

Location; London 1851, Chorlton, 2021

Pictures; The London Dustman, and View of a Dust Yard, London, 1851, and skips I have known giving up their treasures, Chorlton, 2021, from the collection of Andrew Simpson

*Henry Mayhew, London Labour & the London Poor 1851London Labour & the London Poor 1851

** Mayhew page 330

*** ibid Mayhew page 350