What a difference a street makes ... contrasts in wealth and poverty

Today we are on a journey.  It is a short one in terms of distance just the space between two streets, but in almost every other sense it is a huge one.  

I want to walk from Span Court to St John Street and I have chosen 1851 as our point in time.  Spam Court was a collection of six back to back houses in a partially enclosed court off Artillery Street which runs from Byrom Street to Longworth Street behind Deansgate and I have written about them already.

They were one up one down with a cellar and did not rate an entry in the street directories which is not unsurprising given that those who lived here were on very modest means and some on the very margins of poverty.

In 1851 in those six houses lived a total of thirty-three people who made their living from the bottom end of the economic pile including six power loom weavers, a cooper, dress maker as well as an errand boy, a hawker and a pauper. More over in all but one of the six there were two families, one of which may have lived in the cellar or in one of the two rooms.  These were small houses, and the rooms may have been no more than 3.5 m square.

There would have been little in the way of furniture and the only natural light came from single windows that looked out on the narrow court.  They were not the worst of accommodation that the city had to offer and were perhaps slightly better than what could be found in the countryside but they were pretty basic.  Even in 1965 when the properties had been enlarged by extending back into the houses behind to make four rooms, living here would not have been my choice.

And as if to underline just how basic they were their yard was overlooked by the fine homes of St John’s Street, and it is to that place we shall go next.  Here in very grand houses lived accountants, a silk manufacturer and a retired calico engraver and printer.

The latter was John Holt whose father had made his wealth from making the engraving blocks used for calico printing and had eventually retired to a large estate in Chorlton.   John Holt would follow him sometime soon after 1851 but the family retained their interest in the area.*

Their home was the finest.  It is the only double fronted one on the street and had a huge and impressive bay window at the rear which extended over two floors.  Even today when the property has been turned into consulting rooms something of the style, comfort and good living is apparent. John and Sarah Holt lived here with their four children mother in law and two servants spread out over three floors.

But that fine bay window would have allowed them to gaze out on plenty more mean and basic cottages, for behind them were three small courts all with their own back to back properties which ran out on to Camp Street.

If the Holt’s however found this a little disconcerting they could console themselves with the thought that they owned all 24 of them.

In the midst of wealth there was indeed poverty but it was a profitable poverty for some.

Pictures; Span Court, J. Ryder, 1965 m00211, Courtesy of Manchester Libraries, Information and Archives, Manchester City Council,  detail from the 1842-44 OS map of Manchester & Salford, Digital Archives, http://www.digitalarchives.co.uk/ photographs of 11 St John Street from the collection of Andrew Simpson


*Camp Street, Holt Place, James Place, Longworth Street, Severn Street, Byrom Street, Great John Street, Gillow Street, Lower Byrom Street, Charles Street, Peel Street and City Road

South east London and the pictures that mean the most

Now I am wondering just which scene means most to those of us who were born and grew up in south east London.

I fully accept that is a bit of a tall order given the size of south east London and if like me you have moved around a bit.

Added to which bits will have changed almost out of recognition so having been born in the first half of the last century the landscape of Woolwich and Peckham baffle me when I return.

But if I had to choose it might well be the Pleasaunce or the woods in Well Hall where I was most happiest, the ferry with its connection to the Thames or when the train pulls over the river towards Waterloo Railway Station and I know I am home.

The idea of a personal picture was sparked off recently when our Jill took a series of photographs of Greenwich Park, and like many who looked at them I was instantly transported back to magical times long ago.

Mine include playing in the park, taking a new girlfriend for a walk down into Greenwich, and that time in the autumn of 1970 when I showed the place off to a group of friends from Manchester.

Nothing will quite top that day.  The sun was still warm and set off the leaves which were turning from gold to brown but there was that slight chill which you can get in early October.

And it is of early mornings that I shall finish, because Jill took the pictures soon after the sun had risen, when the light is sharp and enhances the features of landscape.

So that is it.

Location; Greenwich

Pictures; Greenwich Park, July 2107, from the collection of Jillian Goldsmith

Picking up the packet boat from Stretford and then post haste to Castlefield on the Duke’s Canal

Packet boat charges on the Duke's Canal 1841

Now I often write about living in the township in the mid 19th century and I reckon if I had wanted to travel into Manchester it would have been by water.

So if I could have afforded it I would have chosen one of the twice daily package boats from Stretford along the canal which transported passengers in comfort and speed.

A ticket for the front room cost 6d [2½p] and the back room 4d [1½p].*

This was travelling in style.   These packet boats were fitted with large deck cabins surrounded by windows which allowed the passengers to sit “under cover and see the country” glide by at the rate of six miles an hour, made possible by  two or sometimes three horses which pulled the packet.  And if that was not style enough the lead horse was guided by a horseman in full company livery.**

It was a pleasant enough journey for most of the route was still across open farm land and it was not till Cornbrook that the landscape became more industrial.

From here on there was no mistaking that the final destination was that busy, smoky and energetic city.  The chemical and dye works of Cornbrook gave way to saw mills, a textile factory, paper mill and all manner of wharves and ware houses before the packet arrived in the heart of Castlefield.

But we all know that I wouldn’t have been in the money and so there would have been no fast packet boat for me and no walk out of the village along the old road to Stretford, instead it would have been a longer and slower tramp, north through Martledge.  But that is another story for another time.

Location; Stretford, Trafford

Pictures; Packet boat charges from Pigot and Slater’s Directory of Manchester and Salford 1841, and detail of the Cornbrook stretch of the Duke’s canal from the OS map of Lancashire, 1841-53, courtesy of Digital Archives, http://digitalarchives.co.uk/

*This was beyond what most of our residents could afford.  A domestic servant might earn 2s 9d [13½] while that of a labourer was 13s.6d [57½p].

**Slugg, T.J., Reminiscences of Manchester, J.E.Cornish, Manchester 1881, Page 223

Three years in the life of one of the last 2CVs .... part three

I can’t remember exactly when we bought it but it was one of the last to roll off the production line in Portugal and as the last were made in 1990 I guess it must have been around then.

You either loved them with their simple technology and charm or derided them as nothing more than a motor cycle with a body.

Me I liked them and derived great pleasure from telling people that when the weather got hot we could either roll the canvas roof back or pull a lever to open the vent at the front to let in the fresh air.

And ours also came with a wooden wedge and starter handle both of which were kept in the boot.

They also had a particular bounce and roll which was fine unless you were sitting in the back But it was a fun car and one that I had a sneaking affection for because it was really the technology of the 1930s.

Not a lot could go wrong and nothing did.  Unlike the smart car owned by Les and Di opposite us which when a light went out on the dashboard stopped the car dead and cost real money to replace.

Pictures; from the collection of Andrew Simpson

When steam ran the roads ........

Now I venture into the world of steam powered vehicles with some trepidation, fearing that those who embrace the subject will have a vast reservoir of knowledge and enthusiasm to knock the socks off me.

They will talk with authority about “5 ton vertical-boiler wagons which feature a 2 cylinder undertype engine and chain drive” and that leaves me in total awe.

So, well aware that whatever I say will either be wrong or so superficial it will result in a tirade of scorn from them that no better I shall confine myself to showing the pictures from a steam cavalcade sometime in the
early 1980s which trundled through Manchester.

They were a common enough sight on our streets from the beginning of the 20th century and some steam road vehicles were still being built as late as 1950.

But they were heavy and legislation during the 1930s forced companies to make lighter steam vehicles which in the end couldn’t compete with the petrol powered alternatives.

And that brings me to the Sentinel lorries which were produced by the Sentinel Wagon Works and after 1947 Sentinel (Shrewsbury) Ltd.

There will be someone who can tell me when both of the lorries were built and will also throw in some informative comments about that other steam vehicle which leaves me to end with a description of the day.

I can't remember exactly when the cavalcade made its way through the city.

But it will have been sometime in the early 1980s and I think it went down Princess Street and maybe rolled on to All Saints.

But the details are now lost in time.

That said I do remember it was warm and sunny and there was a carnival feel to the day.

Back then I was more interested in the  line of vintages buses and cars which squeezed between the big and smelly steam vehicles, including a fine collection of Manchester Corporation and London Transport buses.

Of course there is actually nothing smelly about steam which for many of my generation remains magic.

That mix of warm oil and steam take me right back to railway locomotives and the start of another adventure which is a good enough point to stop.

Location; Manchester,

Pictures; steam vehicles in Manchester, 1980s from the collection of Andrew Simpson

*The 1906 steam road vehicle produced by Alley & MacLeean, Sentinel Works, Jessie Street, Glasgow.

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

Losing our past ……….

It is easy to be complacent about Chorlton’s past and I suppose there will be some who don’t care.

In happier times, 2010

But once we have lost it, it can’t be easily recovered.

Which brings me to our old village graveyard which stands south of the green and was the burial place for generations of Chorlton people.

Uncovering the inscription, 2023

There are 362 recorded gravestones of which only a handful still exist, and these are beginning to deteriorate.

After hundreds of years it was closed in 1886 to all but a few, and with the demolition of the parish church in 1949 the graveyard became a neglected and half forgotten place, which nature and the odd gang of vandals did nothing to improve.

And so the project to landscape it and create a quiet space full of grass, bushes and trees where you could sit, contemplate the few remaining headstones seemed a good idea and has proved to be an asset.

But the decision to remove most of the gravestones deprived us of a chunk of our history while the practice of putting some of the stones down to form a pathway will do for the rest.

although to be fair the parish authorities had already laid a significant number down by the 1920s to act as a path.

Already some are showing signs of wear while others are suffering from flakes of stone falling away.

Added to which the slow build up of vegetation is beginning to obscure some of the inscriptions.  

And while this layer does ironically act as a form of protection it serves also to hide the names and the precious messages of loss from sight.

Mr. Ree's toppling monument, 2023

Not that I am apportioning blame.  Back in the 1980s the landscaping did seem an attractive alternative to the crowded and unattended graves.  Moreover the practice of laying tombstones to act as a path is not unusual, and is used by some local churches.

At which point someone will shout that the Council who is responsible for the plot should do something, but I am well aware of the financial constraints on local authorities, particularly at this time of post Covid, the cost of living crisis and a parsimonious Government.

I fully accept that the finite sum of cash has to go a long way and it would be difficult to argue that council revenue should go to the monuments of the dead when so many of the living need all sorts of help.

But I fear that if we do nothing we will lose much that makes the place so valued by local residents.

Already one monument is beginning to list, some of the flagged steps at the rear are also very uneven, and as if to add to the decline, on my last visit one dog walker had deposited a pink bag of excrement by the lych gate.

Back in 2010 when I recorded all of the gravestones most were still in very good condition and apart from the odd cigarette butt and discarded piece of chewing gum were clear and the inscriptions easy to read.

One dog walker's contribution to the quality of the place, 2023

But not so now, which has led Peter Topping and I to talk to Cllr Mathew Bentham about a way forward for the graveyard.  

We thought that the establishment of a "Friends" group might be a first step.  

Mathew has proved very helpful, and to date we have had two meetings convened by him with officials from Neighbourhood Services, and together we are exploring possible funding as well as a model constitution along with examples of how other Friends groups work.

It is early days, and there is a long way to go.

Peter and I were out at the graveyard on Friday assessing the extent of the deterioration of some of the gravestones and did a bit of TLC.

The headstone of Rev Booth slowly disappearing, 2023

Now there will be someone who points out that February is not a good time to view the gravestones, compared with a bright summer's day.

But the accumulation of dead leaves which settle into the encroaching soil will not go away with the appearance of  Sammy sunshine.

And so we decided that as a way of highlighting the importance of the place to the community we would devote our next book in the series nothing to do in chorlton to the history of the old church, and the surrounding graves, four of which we would feature, telling the stories of the four and their unique contribution to Chorlton-cum-Hardy.

Location; the old parish churchyard, Chorlton

Pictures, the graveyard in happier times, 2010 from the collection of Andrew Simpson, and the same place on Friday, February 28th 2023, courtesy of Peter Topping

Travelling from Peckham across Britain and Europe ……. your holiday in 1951

Now if you had been planning one of those sightseeing holidays in 1951 you may well have opted for Glenton Tours.*

They were at the luxury end of the business and had been whisking the comfortably off across the country since the mid-1920s, and less than a decade later were exploring a great chunk of northern and Alpine Europe.

And this I know because Dad was one of their drivers. 

He had joined the firm soon after the company began touring and pretty soon was one of their European drivers”, and apart from war service he was with them for 50 years retiring in 1982.

All of which meant that he collected a shedload of memorabilia, which I regularly plunder, which always brings back memories of the garage on Brabourn Grove and the offices on Queens Road at New Cross Gate.

And so, to this map, which dates from the same year as one of the many brochures we still have. **

The map came with a calendar and details of the UK holidays on offer, which for 16 Guineas would give 7 days and a choice of Scotland, Scotland (Trossachs), two different West Country routes, as well as the Lake District, Wales, Derbyshire Dales and Yorkshire Moors.

There were also the alternative 12 Days for 30 Guineas, as well as 13 Day, 32 Guineas, “Festival Tour of England & Wales”.

The map was I suspect one of those advertising promotions which were carefully left on the counters of their New Cross Gate and West End Offices, and once hooked the interesting customer might walk away with a brochure, which included detailed itineraries, like the 1951 tour to France, Austria Tyrol, Italian Lakes & Switzerland for 58 Guineas 

Contained also in the “notes and information” is the advice that “Ration Books are not, necessary on any of our tours” and that passengers are advised take "a towel and soap in case some hotels are still unable to supply them.”

The cost ranged from 9 guineas for the “Special 4-Day Easter Tours to 58 guineas for the thirteen day trip to France, Austrian Tyrol, Italian Lakes and Switzerland.”

It is easy to get cynical of a holiday which in just under a fortnight took you through five countries and which you risked missing one if you fell asleep on the journey.

But this was before the internet, and before cheap air travel when even television was in its infancy and so the idea of visiting five countries taking in the views and the history while being catered for in first class style was very attractive.

Added to which as the brochure boasted “You do not have to bother about luggage, frontier, monetary or language difficulties” and “the inclusive charge provided for all food and accommodation, the sea crossing and gratuities to hotel staff."

And that was ….. what our dad did.

Location; 1951

Pictures; Glenton motor coach holiday tours, 1951, and our dad, 1947from the collection of Andrew Simpson

*Glenton Tours; https://chorltonhistory.blogspot.com/search/label/Glenton%20Tours

**1951 ....... a Glenton Tour brochure and a window on a world we have lost; https://chorltonhistory.blogspot.com/2019/06/1951-glenton-tour-brochure-and-window.html

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
.

Thinking ice cream ……….. and throwing in more than a bit of history

Now yesterday I reflected on the Italian tradition of taking cakes and pastries when visiting family and friends.

And today, prompted by a programme on the wireless celebrating The Ice Cream Van, I am thinking of that other great Italian activity of going for an ice cream.*

Not for our family, the block of “Neapolitan” bought from the newsagents or the multi flavoured tubs which are on offer in supermarkets, but the real thing.

For which a visit to the local shop is more than just buying an ice cream, but becomes a trip out, which then turns into a debate on which to have, and whether to go for two flavours, or trust that someone in the family will share a bit of theirs, in return for some of yours.

We did that trip several times last week, either to the one at the top of the road or as a special excursion into the town centre.

But the real pleasure comes when you are on holiday and take that promenade along the seafront, which always ends in an ice cream.

So for all those who have enjoyed such a treat, there is today’s piece, The Ice Cream Van: A Celebration, from The Food Programme in which “Dan Saladino and his dad Bobo (a former ice-cream man) talk Mr. Whippy, 99s and Screwballs. Together Dan and Bobo (who also used to work in restaurants) have explored the wonders of pizza, and looked at the rise of 'Spag Bol,' Now they turn their attention to the history, science, and magic of ice-cream on wheels.

Featuring John Dickie (author of Delizia and The Craft) and Polly Russell (British Library) on the history of ice cream.

Graphic novelist Matthew Dooley (who drew the image for this edition) talks about his book Flake, a drama set in the world of ice-cream vans.

Produced and presented by Dan Saladino”.

It is a delightful celebration of all things ice cream, with lots of social history thrown in.

Location; the Wireless

Pictures; Italian ice cream from Sapori di Sicilia, Varese, 2020, from the collection of Andrew Simpson

*The Ice Cream Van: A Celebration, The Food Programme, Radio 4 https://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/m000mj2x

October 24th 1981 ...... a banner, a cause and a march ... one I remember

Now the thing about a demonstration is that it has a short life in the popular memory.

Walking up from All Saints

If the aim of the demonstration is successful then it is pretty much forgotten in the serious detail of implementing the changes it called for, and if it fails then it quickly slips into obscurity.

Of course there are memorable exceptions like the historic March On Washington for Jobs and Freedom in 1963 at which Dr King delivered the “I Have a Dream" speech, and all of us will be able to pull out another.

As for the rest, at best they merge together, get mixed up or become a blur.

In St Peter's Square

But for me, many of them stay fresh because I took the pictures, ......... lots of them covering a dozen or so
demonstrations  during the 1970s and into the next decade, covering protests over nuclear weapons, rising unemployment, cuts in public expenditure and those nasty little wars which killed many and left both the victorious and defeated no better off.

Most of the images survived the years in the cellar, although a few were such poor quality to start off with that they will never see the light of day.

And then around 1984 I stopped, partly because our Ben had been born, and for a while the demands of nappies and feeds took over, and because I felt less comfortable at going along and photographing people especially given that there were “official photographers” on all the marches who many viewed with suspicion.

All of which meant that perhaps for two decades I rarely attended a demonstration and since then have never carried a camera.

That said of course these days, anyone with a mobile phone can record the events as well I ever did with my two Pentax K1000’s.

Passing Central Ref

So with that in mind and because this is a history blog, here are four images from a peace march through Manchester in the October of 1981.

The march started off from All Saints which was one of the usual starting off points, and by degree made its way up through St Peter’s Square, into Piccadilly and then down either Market Street or Cannon Street and finishing at Crown Square, which back then was a drab windy place dominated by the law courts and the old Education Offices.

Looking back at the four, there are plenty of people I recognise, many of whom would have been on other demonstrations with me.

And because we are now dealing with an event which is 37 years ago, many of the buildings we passed have gone.

Frank Allaun MP and others 

I did toy with the idea of leaving you guess which have gone, but I didn’t.

So in no particular order the lost, include the tall Maths Tower opposite Manchester Museum, that fine stone building in St Peter’s Square, the old bus station by the Arndale and of course Crown Square, although the picky will maintain that the open space is still there but I doubt it retains its name.

There will be others but these I have deliberately missed off the list.
I am also prepared to be corrected on the route after Piccadilly but know we finished up in Crown Square because half a dozen  pictures testify to that.

So I shall leave it at that and just reflect on how busy the march was and just how many people you recognise.

Location; Manchester

Pictures; Marching against Cruise Missiles, October, 1981 from the collection of Andrew Simpson

And the band played on .......

Now I know when the picture was taken and where, but what suddenly attracted the attention of the crowd is lost in time.

We are in Castlefield, on Camp Street during the Steam Exposition at that point in time when British Rail had surrendered the old Liverpool Road site for a £1 but before the Science and Industry Museum moved in.

And on that sunny day in 1980 a collection of old steam locomotives, traction engines and a host of vintage cars and buses gathered.

So it is quite possible that while the band played on something with steam was passing by.

Of course some will remember, and maybe the same person will notice that I have added the wrong date to the photo credit.

No matter I was there.

Location; Manchester

Picture; The band played on, 1980 from the collection of Andrew Simpson

Playing with time ……… silly really

Location; Beech Road

Picture; Playing with time, 2023 from the collection of Andrew Simpson

The Christening ......... Greenwich, 1980

A christening like a wedding is a very personal event, but the passage of time can allow them to become fascinating glimpses into our collective past.

It might be the period clothes, the untold stories stretching forward over a century or just the novelty of seeing strangers being very happy at a significant point in their family’s story.

Back in 1980 the first of dad’s grandchildren was christened, an event which was followed by the birth of eleven more and now some great grandchildren.

All of which means that these pictures are not that old, nor was the occasion attended by any celebrity and nothing untoward happened, other than that we all got together had a good time and celebrated the first born of the next generation.

I had completely forgotten I had taken the pictures which only came to light as I slowly turned old black and white negatives from the days of smelly photography into digital images.

The collection consists of hundreds of photographs taken between 1978 until1984 when I pretty much stopped.

They cover demonstrations, events and just street scenes spread out across Manchester, London and Birmingham.

I don’t claim they are any better than the pictures of the great photographers but they will do for me.

Location; Greenwich, 1980






Pictures; the Christening, 1980, London from the collection of Andrew Simpson

On discovering Woolwich

I have very fond memories of Woolwich.

Washing prawns, 1979

It was a place that I was quite late in visiting  which is a bit daft since we had moved to Well Hall in the spring of 1964 and the 122 and 161 ran by our house.

But during the week I was going back to New Cross and Samuel Pepys Secondary Modern and the weekends were full with exploring Eltham.

So it will have been sometime in the summer of 1966 that I started going there.  At first it was to meetings in the evenings in the back room of a small pub at the bottom of the Woolwich New Road.  All very earnest political stuff, and then I just took in Woolwich on a regular basis, starting with the market, the Arsenal, and of course the river.

And later it was where I got the bus to to work at the bus stop facing the ferry.  I can't say it was always a comfortable place to stand at 6 in the morning but even on wet grey days the vew was one I liked.

But the busy sprawling market was always a draw.

And so here from 1978 or maybe 78 is the market on a busy day.  Sadly this is the only image to have survived umpteen moves and the odd disaster.

Picture; from the collection of Andrew Simpson, 1979

That jewel of a place …… in the centre of the city

I admit I am biased, not least because I first walked through the doors of Central Ref a full 54 years ago and continue to do so.

Walking in, 2023

Back then it was the impressive Social Sciences Library on the first floor, circular in design  which enabled you to hear a whispered conversation at fifteen desks away as well as picking up on the deafening sound of a book being dropped on a table.

And a decade and a bit ago  after a long holiday I was back in the Archives and Local History Library, researching heaps of things.

I joined all the others who had relocated to Deansgate during the long refit and makeover, and like them made my way back to the newly restored and reconfigured building.

In the months after it reopened I marveled at all those people who came just to look at what had been achieved.

And yesterday I was there for my weekly drop in, taking a few pictures before heading out into the city.

Leaving, 2023

And just after I had finished, Philip and Margaret added their own memories.  In the case of Philip this included a commemorative handkerchief, issued when the Ref opened, which is only the second such souvenir I have come across. 

"The Heirloom" 1934

"Genuinely a wonderful building and resource, even more so after modernisation and access to records. 

I remember being in awe at it, especially the domed area. 

The uniformed attendants, that spacious echo, church-like in its ability to suppress your childish urge to make a noise and listen to the echo. 

As you say Andrew, the dropping of a book into a table was canon like, heads lifted to find the transgressor. 

Simply a wonderful anchor to Civic Pride, long gone I fear. I have a framed family 'heirloom', a commemorative handkerchief, a little time worn, of the opening on July 17th, 1934 by their Majesties King George & Queen Mary."

To which Margaret Copeland has added, "I worked in the stacks in the basement in 1964. Along with a group of teenagers we had a whale of a time. Supposedly there to move books around we had trolley races and even sent the smallest girl up to the reference library desk in the dumb waiter lift. 

Later on, I worked in the Technical Library which ran around the circular reference library. Left alone on the Enquiry Desk with an array of telephones, I’d be terrified that one would ring.Location; Central Ref."

Pictures; inside Central Ref, 2023, from the collection of Andrew Simpson  and the 'heirloom' courtesy of Philip Gregson

A paint brush …. and 365 ways of saying well done Mr. Lowry

Today is the anniversary of the death of L S Lowry, that rent collector better remembered as the painter who painted Salford.

His works capture that tired over used observation that “its grim up north” which might have had some truth, but even when Lowry was painting the painting it could have been mirrored by heaps of places from south Wales and the Midlands to those bits of London by the River, where gasometers, docks and small sweatshops mingled to make a place which was occupied only by those who had no choice.

Added to which he painted lots more than grimy northern scenes or odd looking people as I discovered when Peter Topping gave me a guided tour of his work held at the Lowry in Salford.

The trip challenged my preconceptions of what a Lowry looked like.

So here among the matchstick figures and factory chimneys belching out spirals of yellow and grey smoke are fine seascapes, still life compositions and portraits.

And it was that range of work that led Peter to create a Virtual Exhibition with 365 works of Art inspired by L S Lowry.*

As Peter says “people make their way to Southern Cemetery where Lowry is buried  and leave paint brushes of all shapes and sizes to honour the man.  And so I thought as an homage to the great man I would create 365 of my works of artwork that were inspired by his work, and display these in a virtual gallery where anyone from around the world could go and see the paintings with a click of the mouse.

The idea for a virtual art exhibition had begun when we were planning the Chorlton Arts Festival just as Covid was making it impossible for people to gather together.

That led me to think that maybe I could create an electronic gallery with a painting for each day of the year.  It’s an approach I am sure given Lowry’s own unconventional way of depicting the world he would have embraced”.

And it fitted well with Peter’s earlier projects of creating scenes in Chorlton which Lowry might have painted if he visited us.

All of which leaves me to reflect if I had a choice on a wet Thursday of paying tribute to Mr. Lowry I think I would go for the electronic platform and walk through the virtual gallery rather than stand beside some paint brushes in Southern Cemetery.

Or I could do both ..... we shall see.

Location Chorlton and the world

Paintings; If Mr Lowry came to Chorlton, © 2017 Peter Topping, Paintings from Pictures,

Web: www.paintingsfrompictures.co.uk

*The Virtual Exhibition, Inspired by L S Lowry,  can be viewed in its entirety at https://www.artsteps.com/view/639c9a1ec0a4cb48a002edbe

Walking the River ......... the scenic route

A short series taken from one day when I walked along the River.

Back then the Thames was still a place to to earn a wage and watch as ships, and barges plied the way on the water.*

Location; the Thames, Greenwich





Picture; the River in 1979, from the collection of Andrew Simpson



*The lost Eltham and Woolwich pictures, https://chorltonhistory.blogspot.co.uk/search/label/The%20lost%20Eltham%20and%20Woolwich%20pictures