A bit of co-operative history in Didsbury and a picture of how we shopped in 1935

It is easy to miss the stone with its initials M&S high up on the building which includes Expo Lounge, and  Holland &Barrett.

The M&S sign, 2020

A few who do spot it might ponder on how long Marks and Spencer were located here on Wilmslow Road, before moving to their brand-new store just along from the old Police Station.

But that would be to miss that this is a bit of our co-operative past, because this block was one of the chain of shops run by the Manchester and Salford Equitable Co-operative

It was opened on November 29th, 1929, and was one of the eight they opened that year, marking a huge expansion in the idea of co-operative trading across south Manchester, and was a response to the growth in both social and private housing which characterized the years after the Great War.*

And no doubt our store was part of the new look in co-operative retail, which the Manchester Guardian reported, was “something like a revolution in the shop-fitting of Co-operative stores”.**

Out went the “heavy mouldings [and] expanses of somber mahogany”, and instead “the greengrocers radiate attraction from stainless steel baskets on white marble bases [while] the butter and bacon gain a reflected splendour from a background of white vitroline branded with green, and the counter is smooth and shining coloured glass and stainless steel”.  Added to which the refrigerator counter is “lit from outside by lights above the glass.”.

The Manchester & Salford Co-op, 2020

It all reads very familiar but must have been an eye-catching departure from what had gone before.

And in other ways the co-op shops in south Manchester along with shopping in general was markedly different when compared to other parts of the city.

A survey conducted in 1934, across six Manchester local government wards, showed very different retail experiences.  The six were, Withington, Didsbury, Blackley, Levenshulme,  Miles Platting and Medlock Street.

Didsbury retailing, 2020

They were chosen for their very different profiles, so while Withington and Didsbury were judged, “mainly residential and middle class”; Blackley and Levenshulme  were “lower middle class and artisan” and  Miles Platting and Medlock Street were seen as “mainly working class or slum, thickly populated and intersected by busy main roads, with industrial property amongst houses and tenements.”***

Not surprising “another difference between the rough divisions is that in the first the average is one house [often big], one family; the second, one house [often small], one family; the third, one house to one, two, or three families”.

The total number of shops in the six wards  was 2,869, with a higher proportion of shops in the “poorer areas”, and these often had a limited range of products when compared to Didsbury and Withington, and had a lower ratable value.

How we ate, 1935

The same shops were likely to be closer to their customers than in the more prosperous areas, and very much like today there was a greater number of fast food or convenience outlets.

So, across the six wards there were 144 shops selling “fried fish and chips, cooled meats and tripe” with the highest number in Medlock Street and Miles Platting.

Likewise second hand furniture dealers and licensed pawnbrokers which are a measure of poverty, were “not found in Withington or Didsbury, and Blackley and Levenshulme  could only produce seven, [compared] to Medlock Street where there was 18 second-hand dealers and 29 brokers and Miles Platting has 5 dealers and 17 brokers”.

But on a lighter note the survey discovered that while hairdressers and barbers were more evenly distributed, with the highest proportionate number in Medlock Street with one to every 850 people, compared to Withington which “has one to every 3,000”.

Fresh food in Didsbury, 2019

Make of that what you will.****

Location; Didsbury, and Manchester in 1935

Pictures;  The M&S shop and Oxfam Shop, Wilmlsow Road, 2020, from the collection of Andrew Simpson


*Ayres Road, Old Trafford, Green End, Burnage, Parrs Wood Road North, Burnage, Warwick Road South, Firswood, Park Estate West, Timperley, Hardy Lane, Chorlton, School Road, Sale

**The Modern Shop, In Manchester, the Manchester Guardian, June 24, 1935

***Manchester Shops, Six Ward Survey Private Trader Predominant, Striking Contrasts, Dorothy Hodge, Manchester Guardian, February 16th, 1934

***To which Dorothy Hodge concluded “the residents of Withington uses the city barber to a considerable extent.”

The shock of the new ………… Genesta Road

Now I have always liked those smallish terraced houses which are a feature of south east London.

But these four which break the mould, appeal to me.

They are on Genesta Road, just down from Plum Lane, opposite Plumcroft Primary School.

And not for the first time I have to reflect that living in Manchester makes it just that bit more difficult to pursue a story, because there is only so much you can do online, before it becomes necessary to resort to a visit to the local heritage centre, which for me would involve setting aside a couple of days.

So, until someone comes forward with some information, I am left to wonder about when they were built.

They may be the result of infill after bomb damage during the last war.  I did also think that perhaps the plot had never been built on but given that the rest of the road is dominated by those terraced houses, which while they differ slightly in their design are much of a muchness.

Either way the four are a bold statement with some interesting features, like the balconies, and the garages.

I am grateful to John King for sharing the picture and I am always pleased when he posts images from south east London, because they are always interesting.

And that is all I am going to say and shall just wait for someone to comment.

And within less than hour of posting the story, people have helped me out.  Debbie Sullivan provided me a link to a site on Modern Housing, and Phil Clarkstone found a reference to our four on Wikipedia.*

Now as everyone knows I don’t as a rule rip off other people’s research, so I suggest you follow the link to read more about 85-91 Genesta Road, leaving me just to say that they were built in 1934, and were indeed infill, taking the place of an orchard.

So, that really is it, I think.  I shall close with a thank you to John who took the picture and to Debbie and Phil, reflecting on that simple observation that history should always be a shared project.

Location; Plumstead

Picture; Genesta Road, 2019, from the collection of John King

**85-91 Genesta Road, https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/85%E2%80%9391_Genesta_Road?fbclid=IwAR3PODqYgmLbF7_R4rlTXC6kofyRL59byLDfB9WQZafU8PlgBs_-PuQTYlI

Chorlton's workhouse ............ part 2

The Chorlton Union, was resposnible for poor relief in what is now South Manchester. 

From the 1850s their workhouse was in Withington, but prior to that it was sighted in Hulme.

Hated as these Poor Law Bastilles were many people accepted that circumstance might force them to seek relief at some point in their lives.

Mr.s Sutton's Cottage, 1892

One such inmate was Thomas Taylor who was in the Withington workhouse in the April of 1861 but later was living with his daughter.

The largest group were the old. After a lifetime of hard work, struggling with low wages punctuated by periods of unemployment and ill health, many were forced into the workhouse as a last resort.

So it was for Ellen Warburton who in that April of 1861 was 98 years old and seeking assistance inside the walls of the workhouse.

Her story may be typical. She was born in the township in 1776 and retained her independence well into her 60s, running a home which she shared with her teenage grandson.

Cottages of the green

By 1851 the situation had changed, and Ellen aged 75 was living in the home of her now married grandson. A decade later the family had moved to Manchester and Ellen was in the workhouse.

 She was by now a very old woman, and the new home in John Street, Chorlton on Medlock was a one up one down terraced house inside the loop of the River Medlock, hemmed in on all sides by chemical works, timber yards, and a brewery.

The Chorlton Workhouse, Hulme, 1849

But it is only when we peel back the figures and begin to follow the Guardian’s own policy of segregating the inmates by gender that the full picture of who carried the biggest burden emerges. In the summer of 1841 the single largest group were adult women who as we have seen often entered the workhouse with children.

Many may have been there as a direct result of the emigration of their husbands. In the June of 1842 the Morning Chronicle reporting on the slump in trade wrote that “Chorlton Workhouse is filled with the wives and families of men going or have gone to America in quest of employment......Emigration is going on extensively.” This was a policy that was actively pursued by the Poor Law Commissioners with parochial aid or assistance from local landlords.

 The Commissioners reported that over 2, 000 had gone to Canada in 1841 which was an increase on the year before, and that assistance was also being given to move to Australia and New Zealand.

Chorlton, 1979

But there was also a trend of “men quitting England and procuring a passage to the United States, leaving their families to be forwarded to the country by the parish officers or private individuals.” Not unsurprisingly the Commissioners’ expressed “our strong opinion of the inexpediency of rendering the assistance to the families of persons so circumstanced which is the object of the parties to obtain the desertion of their families.”
Extract from Chorlton-cum-Hardy, A Community Transformed

Picture; The Workhouse in Hulme from the OS 1842-44, courtesy of Digital Archives Association,  Mrs Sutton’s cottage, circa 1892, and Chorlton cottages, reproduced from  photographs by Bari Sparshot 2011, and Chorlton in 1979, from the collection of Andrew Simpson

Celebrating ….. that humble but wonderful historic dish

 Potato hash comes in many varieties and will no doubt be claimed as their own by regions across Europe and beyond.

Just when the first cook added mashed potato with whatever was left over around the kitchen is I think lost in time.

Although I bet there will be learned articles pinpointing the exact moment when that wonderful all-purpose vegetable arrived in Europe and quickly ended up in a blend of other vegetables with some meat and fried till you get that crispy golden crust.

I grew up with corned beef hash, left over Sunday beef hash and veg hash.

What they all had in common was that simple and sensible form of household management which looked to using up all the leftovers.

Now many of the recipes I have recently looked at rely on buying in a heap of ingredients to create nourishing and authentic versions of hash, while in our house it started with what ever mother or grandmother had to hand.

And that in turn pretty much meant that the finished dish as it arrived on the plate was never quite the same from one meal to the next.

So today I took yesterday’s veg Shepherd’s pie mixed it with an avocado hard up against its sell by date, threw in a couple of fried chopped tomatoes, an onion and the last of the pesto.

And for good measure added the remnants of Tuesday’s halloumi cheese with some olives.

The lot just gently cooked away until there was that crispy golden crust which announced it was ready.

The finished thing doesn’t look elegant or sophisticated and won’t win a prize for presentation, but it ticked all the boxes in that it was economical, used up all the bits and tasted good.

And that is how I remember the hash we ate.  Although as we all know other variations are available as are other definitions of what the word hash means. 

But in terms of food when I checked on the definition of the word, I discovered it just means to chop food into small pieces and usually refers to a meat and potato dish cooked till brown.

Location; the kitchen

Pictures; from the collection of Andrew Simpson, 2026

Falling into the Workhouse ...part 1 the Chorlton Union and Chorlton-cum-Hardy

Reflecting on the New Poor Law and how it impacted on one small rural community 4 miles from Manchester

The Workhouse, Hulme, 1844

The Stretford Road workhouse* was in the heart of Hulme just over three miles away. For any of our people from the township this must have seemed a forbidding place. On all sides and stretching out in all directions the area was a collection of closed packed terraced houses punctuated by timber yards and cotton mills.

All of which was a long way from the fields and woodland of the township. Here the prevailing sound would be that of the many machines engaged in ceaseless noisy activity and the ever present pall of smoke from countless domestic chimneys and boiler houses.

The isolation from all that was familiar was reinforced by the harshness of the immediate surroundings. The workhouse was not meant to be a comfortable resort. For both sick and healthy inmates the regime inside the institution was bleak and austere.

The Meadows, on the edge of Chorlton-cum-Hardy, 1979

The segregation of the sexes extended from the young to the old and from the sick to those judged to be lunatics. In all there were twelve exercise yards for the 300 inmates each dedicated to a particular group where behind tall walls no man or boy could gaze on the opposite sex. This was not a new policy and was followed by the Manchester workhouse before the new poor law.

The policy of segregation was particularly hard on elderly married couples who may have spent their entire adult life together but were now forced apart. Of the 17 couples in the work house in the summer of 1841 most were in their sixties.

But it was no less hard on those with young families seeking help. They too were split up. Boys were accommodated next to the old men and girls beside the old woman while the younger men and women were housed beyond the infirmary at the back of the workhouse bordering Devonshire Street.

Twenty-four children in our workhouse had been admitted with their mothers. These mothers were mostly in their thirties or forties were there without their husband or partner and most had entered with two or more children and as we shall see they would be separated from the children they had brought into this world.

Ploughing Row Acre, 1894

What constituted a child had been set down in the original classification back in 1834. This specified that females under 16 were girls, while males below the age of 13 were treated as boys, and those under seven were regarded as a separate class.

In certain circumstances a child under seven could be left with their mother and even share her bed. Other than that mothers were supposed to have access to the child. This was easier if the child were in the same workhouse and only a possibility if it were in a different institution. As to the length of the interview this depended on the Guardians.

In all there were 66 under the age of 16 of which a full 42 were there on their own. Their ages ranged from just a few days through to 15. Some were there with siblings but most had no one except the friends they could make.

Sutton's Cottage, 1750s-1894

They would have arrived in many different ways. Some would be orphans, or deserted children, while others might be illegitimate and yet others abandoned due to a range of disabilities.

Once inside the Guardians might decide to retain an orphan under the age of sixteen if they determined that on release the child was in danger.

Well might they have abandoned all hope for in a real sense they were lost to all but the officials of the institution and even those charged with their welfare may not always have been diligent in promoting their needs.

So it was with young Mary “Penny” in November 1841, who had been abducted from a nurse girl in Hulme, left with another child a few streets away for a penny and ended in the workhouse on Stretford New Road as an orphan where she languished for eleven months.

The admission book showed no record of the baby’s entry into the workhouse and the official position was that such events were improbable. This may well have sealed her fate, but the persistence of her parents combined with the testimony of an inmate resulted in the baby’s release. It is a bizarre and unusual story but one which points up more than a hint of what could happen to those with no voice or influence.

Extract from The Story of Chorlton-cum-Hardy, Andrew Simpson, 2012, the History Press

Location; Chorlton-cum-Hardy, Hulme

Picture; The Workhouse in Hulme from the OS 1842-44, courtesy of Digital Archives, http://digitalarchives.co.uk/, the meadows, 1979, from the collection of Andrew Simpson, ploughing Row Acre, 1894, courtesy of Mr Higginbotham from the Lloyd Collection, Sutton’s Cottage, Chorlton Row, Barri Sparshot, 2011 from a photograph, 1894

*The Hulme/Stretford Road  Workhouse was replaced with a new building in Withington which was completed in 1855
.

Greenwich Park, and a moment a full 53 years ago .......... nu 2 from the river

It will be a full 55 years ago but the memory of that walk through Greenwich Park on a Saturday in September 1971 has never left me.

I was in my second year at Manchester Poly and the pull of Well Hall and the family were still strong and so
I found myself back home with three friends.

Lois was from Weston and Mike and John from Leeds and we travelled down from Manchester in John’s van on the Friday night.

Even now I have to say I haven’t forgotten the kindness of David Hatch who agreed to put Lois, Mike and John up on his floor.

It was a brief stay and most of it is a blur except for the walk from the gates on the Blackheath side through the park to Wolf’s statue, the observatory and that view down to the river.

At any time of the year that short stroll is pretty good but in late autumn it is magic.  The leaves are on the turn and the bright sunlight can still surprise you with its degree of warmth and the way it brings out the colours all around you.

Now we never made it across the river but had we I am sure we would have been rewarded with a view like this.


All of which just leaves me to reflect on the postcard which was marketed in the USA and carried the imprint of the American YMCA of which there must be a story, but not for now.

Location; Greenwich

Picture; Greenwich Park, 1905 from the series Greenwich, marketed in 1911-12 by Tuck & Sons, courtesy of Tuck DB, https://tuckdb.org/

Walking in the north of the township in to Martledge in the summer of 1847, part one

Barlow Moor Lane, north to Martledge, a journey which will take in some great houses, a shop, farms and a pub as well as cottages of wattle and daub and brick

Barlow Moor Lane is a long road.

Standing at the point where the Row joins Barlow Moor Lane we have a choice, turn north and journey on to Martledge and then out of the township by various routes to Hulme and
Manchester, or south to Hardy Lane and on to the Mersey, Withington and Didsbury.

Martledge is much overlooked in most histories of the township so north it is.

And we will start with the Holt estate again.  Leaving the Row and heading north up Barlow Moor Lane we follow the east wall of the Holts, all the way to Lane End.  Everything on this side of the road dates from after 1908 when the last of the Chorlton Holts died and the estate sold off.

It finished at Lane End.  Directly opposite where today Sandy Lane begins was the grocer’s shop of Jeremiah  Brundrett.  It was a large house at one time known as Lilly Cottage.

The Brundrett’s were there long enough for the spot to become known as Brundrett’s corner  Facing the shop roughly on the site of the church was the home of Caleb and Ann Jordril.   Here was one of the last wattle and daub cottages.

Continuing north along the lane our journey would pass open fields until we reached the edge of Martledge.

Here to our left was Clough Farm and on our right Oak Bank House.

The farm stood roughly between Groby Road and Silverwood Avenue.   In that summer of 1847 it was occupied by Margaret Taylor and it would have been her farm land we would have seen as we walked up Barlow Moor Lane towards her home.

Today all of the land from Silverwood Avenue back towards High Lane and right back to Lane End was rented by her from the Egerton Estate.  There were 10 acres in all and it was a mix of arable, meadow and clover and included part of Scotch Hill.

Margaret was forty-seven.   Hers was no easy life.  To make 10 acres of land work and bring in a living required hard work.

Over and above the big points in the agricultural year of sowing, planting and reaping, there were the constant demands of weeding, chasing off pests and the journeys to the markets in Manchester.

These were tasks usually carried out by the whole family, but during the 1840s, she lost both her parents and two sisters which left her with just her 11 year old nephew.   Now Margaret was not alone in facing such loss, or in bringing up the child of her a relative.

Easing the chronic overcrowding meant that at least one child might be farmed out to relatives and Edward her nephew had been at Clough Farm since he was five and would still be there when he was 15 by which time she had married John Stretch.

From their fields they would have been able to gaze across at Oak Bank, one time home of William Morton and later the Cope family.  Oak Bank was a substantial building standing in its own grounds close to the modern junction of Barlow Moor and Wilbraham Roads.

Nothing now exists of the house but the path leading to it is now Needham Avenue. The house was situated in a garden which covered the area running on either side of Needham Avenue as far as Barlow More Lane in one direction and Corkland Road in the other.

The estate also included a large meadow field and small wood stretching back from Needham along Barlow Moor Lane to Lane End.

It had belonged to William Morton who had been there since 1821, but on death his will stipulated that the house and land had to be sold within five years.  

When this happened is not known but in 1845 a Miss Crofton was there paying rent to the Executors of Mr Morton.  

By 1847 the house and land were in the possession of Frederick Cope who rented both to John.  This was a short term arrangement and by 1850 the Cope family were living at Oak Bank.

William Morton had described himself as a member of the gentry.   Frederick Cope was a wine merchant who ten years earlier had been living with his wife and children on Oxford Street, close to where the University now stands.  Elizabeth had died by 1851.

Adapted from THE STORY OF CHORLTON-CUM-HARDY, http://chorltonhistory.blogspot.co.uk/search/label/A%20new%20book%20for%20Chorlton

Pictures; map of Barlow Moor Lane, courtesy of Digital Archives, http://www.digitalarchives.co.uk/  picture of Jeremiah  Brundrett, Wesleyan Handbook, 1908, courtesy of Philip Lloyd, and gravestone of the Morton family in the parish churchyard, from the collection of Andrew Simpson