Walking the mean streets of Manchester in the 1880s ………

Now, many of us will have been brought up with the stories of the appalling housing conditions in our cities, towns, and villages in the 19th century.

New gates, 1908

Just a few minute’s stroll from the imposing and elegant Georgian and Victorian government and commercial buildings were scenes of awful poverty, where the casual observer and interested researcher ventured with some trepidation.

The accounts of Dr. Kay, Frederick Engels and a heap of other writers are testimony to “how the other half lived”.

In the later 19th century surveys like that undertaken by Booth and Rowntree catalogued the poverty, and inequality in health, and housing provision.

To these can be added an excellent set of maps and notes on Manchester during the 1880s which like Booth and Rowntree’s work offer-coloured coded maps along with detailed descriptions which come from the reports of the officer of  Health for Manchester.*

I had come across some while researching at Central Ref a few years ago, but last week Craig Thomas offered up a link to a whole of set of digitized maps and reports.

They really are a cornucopia of wonderful things including a map of the Enumerator Districts for the city for 1871, which will make it easier for anyone wanting to locate a street.

44 Angel Meadow, 1900

And that pretty much is that I could say more, but what would be the fun of distracting you from looking for yourself.

That said there is a nice short Manchester Evening News report of how the maps were digitized.

Read more; Manchester Housing Conditions; https://chorltonhistory.blogspot.com/search/label/Manchester%20housing%20conditions

Location; Manchester

Pictures; Pictures; New gates, 1908, m8316, Angel Street, 1900, m85543, S.L.Coulthurst, courtesy of Manchester Libraries, Information and Archives, Manchester City Council, http://images.manchester.gov.uk/index.php?session=pass 

*Victorian Sanitary Survey Maps for Central Manchester, https://luna.manchester.ac.uk/ll/thumbnailView.html?startUrl=%2F%2Fluna.manchester.ac.uk%2Fluna%2Fservlet%2Fas%2Fsearch%3Fos%3D0%26lc%3Dmaps002~1~1%26q%3D%3D%22Project%3A%20Victorian%20Sanitary%20Survey%20Maps%20for%20central%20Manchester%22%26bs%3D100

**Forgotten maps of Manchester slums restored and available to view,  Nigel Barlow -April 3, 2019, https://aboutmanchester.co.uk/forgotten-maps-of-manchester-slums-restored-and-available-to-view/

Chorlton Office, a pair of boots and a bus stop ................

This is one of my favourite pictures of Chorlton in the 1960s which comes from  George Cieslik’s collection.

I do like those images of the not so distant past, when much of what you can see is almost like today, but not quite.

And this one is no exception.

There in the distance is the old cinema, and in front, the building which over the years has had many different uses, from doctors’ surgery to a café, an antique shop and more recently a DIY centre and discount store.

Back in the 1940s it was still a residential property and out of the blue a few years ago someone contacted me with the story of when they lived there.

The keen observer will spot that the church on the corner of Barlow Moor Road and Sandy Lane had yet to be demolished, while the parade of shops opposite the cinema had yet to lose their stone ornaments.

But for me it is the very little details that make this photograph so fascinating.

It starts with the building which is now the home of diving club but back then was still the Chorlton Office and looks little different from when it was opened in 1915 as part of the terminus for the Corporation trams.

And that raises the question of just when the cast iron and glass veranda was spirited away.

And then for me there are the tiny personal things, starting with the old bus stop sign, with the Corporation logo, which was still in use when I washed up in Manchester in 1969 and the boots the woman beside the lamp post is wearing. 

They will have had a zip up the front, were made of felt with rubber soles, and an imitation fur lining, and were the bees’ knees back in 1962.

Others of my generation will single different things out, from the Belisha Beacons to the Morris Minors, and some like me will remember how the cab of the white lorry looked so modern when compared to others on the road.

And that is, other than to thank George for another slice of 1960s Chorlton.

Location; Barlow Moor Road

Picture; Barlow Moor Road, circa 1962 from the collection of George Cieslik

A little bit of Woolwich ........ from Manchester

Now I like the way a picture of a place I remember so well from my youth just pops into my in tray.

And so it is with this fine photograph of Plaisted’s Wine House.

Over the years I featured lots of images of Plaisted’s from a nice one taken by our Colin and Elizabeth to ones I took in the 1970s.

What makes this one just that bit unique is that it comes from the collection of Ron Stubley who like me lives in the far North ........ beyond the river, Watford Gap and even Birmingham.

Ron like me collects interesting buildings and so on a visit to Woolwich back in 2012 he added this one to the album.

He sent it over about 15 minutes ago with the comment “I'm sure you'll like this one Andrew”, and of course I do.

I shall now wait to see what other gems from Woolwich he may have.

Location; Woolwich

Picture, Plaisted’s Wine House, 2012, from the collection of Ron Stubley

Lost and forgotten streets of Salford ...................... nu 1 St Simon Street, a wireless and sixty earth rods

Now you can still walk along St Simon Street but it no longer follows the route that it did when it led from Blackfriars Street to the Anaconda Works of Frederick Smith and Co who were producing some pretty nifty things in brass at the beginning of the 20th century.

This I know because in Dad’s garden shed in Well Hall Road in south east London he had sixty brass Earth Roads still in their cardboard boxes.

The rods are 46 cms [18”] in length, are fluted and pointed at one end  with a screw and terminal cap at the other.

According to the description on the side of the box “A good Earth connection to a wireless receiver cannot be over emphasised.  It provides a definite relief from howling and mush.  It improves selectivity and volume.  

The Anaco S (registered) Earth Road is made by engineers who have specialised for over 50 years in the manufacture of electronic conductors....with the object of producing a connection giving the lowest possible earth resistance and to be entirely free from incipient corrosion of any type.  

The improvements produced by the use of this earth are permanent and no replacements are necessary.” 

So there you have it.  Our Dad at some point acquired sixty of these rods.  I have no idea why and we never got round to asking him.  I have no idea when he got them but there they were in 1994, having been manufactured I guess sometime in the early 1920s.

Of course some will have chapter and verse on both the date of the rods and the history of the Anaconda Works.

I know that they were Type W “would not crumple when driven into the ground” and the instructions  direct me to “ease the screw on terminal cap, insert the earth wire from set into bottom grove and tighten up screw to hold wire in good contact with rod.”

All I need now is the wireless .............. something dad didn’t have in the shed.

But like many of my generation I do on occasion refer to the “wireless” remember with fondness the Home Service and the Light Programme.

None of which of course helps with St Simon Street which at the beginning of the 20th century ran from Blackfriars hugging the south side of the river and ending at Springfield Lane.

Today it takes a different route and my bit of St Simon’s Street along with Frederick Smith & co’s Anaconda Works has gone.

Location; Salford

Pictures; box and earth rod circa 1920s, from the collection of Andrew Simpson

Losing another Chorlton ghost sign …….

I rather think if I go back later this afternoon this ghost sign will have gone.

It was uncovered as work progresses on what was “Close”, the “Male Grooming” shop at 539a Wilbraham Road.

It was doing the business of all things male grooming from 2012 and was still last year.

Now for those who don’t know ghost signs are all that remain of a business, or product that no longer exists, and so here we have two, the former sign high up at the top of the building to Close, and uncovered for a brief while that of "J.M. Trophies, Engraving and Shoe Repairs".

I have a vague memory of the trophy shop, but it is vague and may not be real.

But since I have been in Chorlton for fifty years I might have passed it, which just leaves someone to come forward who used the place.

I know that back in 2008 it was "NV The Dawn of a New Era in Tanning" while in 1969 it was home to the Manchester Corporation Rating Office and before that I have yet to discover.  I know that the building dates from around 1904 but that at present is it.

Not that I shall be deterred from finding out more.  There are the street directories which lists businesses, and the Rate Books so with a bit of research the story of 539a Wilbraham Road will be revealed.

As for its future, a quick loo at the City’s Planning Portal has not shown up anything.

Location; Wilbraham Road

Pictures; ghost signs on Wilbraham Road, 2026, from the collection of Andrew Simpson

A Didsbury picture ……. an 1885 sales catalogue ….. and the story of Johnson, Clapham & Morris .... makers of all things galvanized iron

Now, I remain fascinated at the route which took me from a framed page of a sales catalogue on a wall in a house in Didsbury via a shop in Pembrokeshire back a century and more to Johnson, Clapham & Morris, makers of all things galvanized iron.

The framed Lamp Belge from the sales catalogue, 1889

The framed sales catalogue was a present to a friend , who having admired it in the said shop got it as a Christmas present.

And in turn when Barbarella posted the picture to me I knew there was a story, although just where it would take me was unclear.

As ever the starting point was the name of the firm and its location on Lever Street in town.  There is no property number on the catalogue, but the directories placed the firm at 24/26 Lever Street, which is between Stevenson Square and Bunsen Street.

They were here by 1886, and it will be easy to track back to when they left their premise at 27 Dale Street.  I know that they were on Dale Street in 1876, and that they had a warehouse in Liverpool and offices on Winchester Street in London, with their works in Newton Heath.

According to that excellent source, Grace’s Guide to British Industrial History, the company was founded sometime around 1814, and they specialized in “reinforced brickwork and the clothing of steel-framed and reinforced concrete buildings”, which rather skates over the detail, which was pretty much everything involving metal. *

Johnson, Clapham and Morris, Lever Street, 1886

Their 1876 poster announced  that they were “Iron, Tin Plate, Wire and Metal Merchants, manufacturers of Galvanized Wire Netting, and Sheep Fencing,  Strong Wove Wire for Malt Kiln Floors, Smutt Machines and Mining Purposes”, along with Miner’s Safety Lamps and Lightning Conductors”.

So, I am not surprised that thirteen years later their catalogue included The Lamp Belge, which I am guessing were copied from the original designs which were made in Belgium.

The company was still in business in 1961 when they were “Engaged as metal, electrical and hardware manufacturers and factors, [with] 560 employees.”**

I took a virtual wander down Dale Street and Lever Street, and both sites are still occupied by what look to be late 19th or early 20th century buildings, but I am  not sure if either were connected to Johnson, Clapham & Morris.

Goad’s Fire Insurance maps of 1884 show the firm’s office and warehouse taking up all of the space between Stevenson Square and Bunsen Street, and suggests they were one building, whereas today number 26 is different in design and size from number 24.

The choice of lamps, 1886

All of which leaves me to go off and compare the 1884 map with later ones.

And there I thought the story had ended but not so, because Grace’s Guide offered up one little and very personal surprise, which was that Mr. Richard Johnson died at his home in Chislehurst in Kent, a place I knew well, and one where my girlfriend of the time lived.

I followed her north in 1969, which was not the best way to choose a degree course, especially as she returned home three months later.

I stayed and have yet to find way back.  But that is a story for another time.

Location; Didsbury, Manchester

Pictures; The Lamp Belge, from the 1889 sales catalogue of Johnson, Clapham & Morris, courtesy of Barbarella Bonvento, the warehouse of Johnson, Clapham & Morris, from Goad’s Fire Insurance Maps, Lever Street, 1886, courtesy of Digital Archives Association,  http://digitalarchives.co.uk/ 

* Grace’s Guide to British Industrial History, https://www.gracesguide.co.uk/Richard_Johnson,_Clapham_and_Morris?fbclid=IwAR06SdLJWpL2hEwB1-6Dqo1Opshx6DLaQ7sSWSFY9J_yRL7E9fu_WXT30JA

**ibid Grace’s

What did you find in the cellar of Hough End Hall in the summer of 1965?

If you are of a certain age you will probably remember playing in Hough End Hall.

Of course we are talking about the 1960s when the place had long been abandoned as a family home and was yet to become a restaurant.

Back then it was an adventure playground for many of the children roundabout and bit by bit their memories are surfacing of what the Hall was like and what they did there.

Now everyone has their own stories and Ian who would have been about 11 remembered the cellar and what seemed “to be a gigantic set of leather and wooden bellows along with two stone fire places one of which was propped up against the wall and the other resting on the floor.

We tried to get the bellows to work and when that failed wrapped a rope around the tall fireplace and swung from side to side.

There were also big bags of what looked like salt.

And when we tired of the cellar we went on to play in the valleys of the roof.”

Ian is the first to admit that given that it was a long time ago, “my take on what I remember may be different to others, and perhaps the bellows could have been smaller or even larger.”

Either way it is a fascinating glimpse into a period in the Hall’s history which has sat in the shadows for too long.

But more of those memories are now coming to the surface and in time I hope for more.

Location, Hough End Hall, Chorlton, Manchester

Pictures; the Hall in the mid 1960s from the collection of Roger Shelley, https://www.flickr.com/photos/photoroger/