Poems and Pictures ……… a special event ........ at the Royal Oak .........

I knew I would enjoy the launch of "Poems by Lindy and Pictures by Peter" at the Royal Oak today. 

They told me they had “invited Manchester’s top literary artists to come together for an afternoon of spoken word and poetry in celebration of their new book of poems and pictures but despite, working before on projects,  up till now, they have never collaborated on a book which has produced so much wow".

Adding "the idea of illustrating stories is not new and the very first illustrated books were published in 1461 by the cleric and printer, Albrecht Pfister, who was born around 1420 in Bamberg.

What’s unique to this book is the vivid imagination of Peter’s startling images set against the raw emotion created by Lindy’s poetry". 

And the event was a success with over 40 people attending with a host of poets who offered up a mix of the funny, the serious and the poignant.

Now I confess I never wrote down the names of all those who performed, but Peter and Lindy will put me straight and I hope will also come back with not only the names but the details of their books of verse.

Leaving me just to say looking around at the audience they like me had a good time and of course to say that "Poems by Lindy and Pictures by Peter"  is available  from www.pubbooks.co.uk  and Chorlton Bookshop.

And Lindy tells me "Thanks,  Andrew for attending our event and taking these great pictures. 

Other poets taking part were: Pauline Omoboye , Alice Spencer , Amanda Nicholson, Pinbadge, Melanie Neads, Steve Smythe , Lynn Walton - what a great mix of poets and poems and it was wonderful to see so many people there, including other local poets and members of our lively'. Chorlton Arts scene".

Location; The Royal Oak Function Room,

Pictures, the event, 2024, from the collection of Andrew Simpson

A lost house, an old bridge ..... and a scene that has passed out of living memory, Barlow Moor Road in the summer of 1909

Barlow Moor Road Bridge, 1909

We are looking at a stretch of Barlow Moor Road that has now passed out of living memory.  The picture was taken in 1909 and captures a time when we were still a little rural.

Away to our right across the Brook and over the fields is  half hidden by the trees is Lime Bank Cottage.

Sadly the building to our left has not survived which is a shame because it is one of those that would have unlocked a bit of our history.

It was built sometime between the late 1780s and 1818 and was a fine nine  roomed house set in a large garden and orchard with views across the fields. 

Brook Bank House

In the 1840s it commanded a rateable value of £58 which put it amongst one of the most expensive properties in the township.  And throughout its history the occupants appear to have been well heeled.

In 1841 Elizabeth Whitelegg described herself as of “independent” means, while her son was a cotton dealer.  

A decade later the Heywwod brothers and sisters were also able to rely on an inherited income, and at the time of our picture, William Henry Foxwell owned his own engineering export business.

This makes Brook Bank important in the story of Chorlton.  There were only handful of these comfortable properties in the township and today only two have survived of which one lies empty with half its roof missing.

And given that all the homes of working people from the first half of the 19^th century have also vanished this just leaves a few of the farm houses of which only two come close to resembling the originals.

Across the fields with Hough End Hall in the distance

Which leaves us just this tantalizing glimpse through the trees of Brook Bank on a summer’s day in 1909.

But that is not quite the end of the story.

We are on Barlow Moor Road just before the bridge was rebuilt and for all its idyllic appearance the road and the surrounding land was about to be transformed.

Already the developers and builders had been busy. Just behind our house and only partly hidden by a green house and out houses were the semi detached properties of Claude and Reynard Road, while to the north a line of tall houses stretched up to Beech Road and beyond the Brook plans were a foot to construct Chorltonville.

Picture; Barlow Moor Road Bridge, J Jackson, 1909, m17447, courtesy of Manchester Libraries, Information and Archives, Manchester City Council

So where was Tudor Street?

 Now, the request was a simple one ……. “did I have any maps showing Tudor Street in Angel Meadow around 1880?”

Tudor Street, 1895

It was as, ever the sort of challenge I enjoy.

But I began the wrong way, for having got the destination of Angel Meadow I went looking at the 1849 OS map of the city, reasoning that much of Angel Meadow had already been developed by the beginning of the 19th century and some pockets were even older.

And I drew a blank.  So, this is the DIY guide to finding a street with little more than a name.

The first step was the directories which list the streets in Manchester and Salford, from the late 1790s, along with an alphabetical list of residents and trades.

They were published each year, which makes them very useful for tracking individuals, but do not always include every street or court or square.  

Yet again poverty which has wiped out so many people from the historical records did the same for many small streets, which were not included either because they were not deemed important enough or the residents didn’t co-operate with the survey.

Tudor Street, 1895

And Tudor Street just wasn’t there, which led to step two, which was an online search of the Rate Books, which include properties across Manchester listed by streets.  These were also published every year, and contain the name of the owner, the tenant, the estimated rent, and rateable value, and often also include a description of the property.

This led to the breakthrough because at no. 4 Tudor Street was a Thomas Barber.  He paid 4.9d a week in rent which was pretty typical of what other tenants wee paying.  I can track him back to 1871 and forward 1894, which offered up the chance of finding him on 3 different census returns.

And that is where I found him for 1881.  Later I will return and trawl all three census records to see what I can find about Mr. Barber, but for now I content to use the census to locate the street, which is easy enough given that at the front each has a description of the location of the street.

The rest was just a matter of a few minutes search because Tudor Street was off Samuel Street, which was off Suddel Street which in turn was off Livesey Street which ran from Rochdale Road down to Oldham Road.

Sadly, it no longer exists, .  It was still thre in 1951 as were all its 29 houses.  Today only Livesey Street has survived but I made a good stab of locating it at the Rochdale Road end.  I didn’t expect to find any photographs of the street in the city’s digital archive, and I didn’t, nor of Samuel, or Suddel Streets, leaving just one of Livesey Street.

Not perhaps the stuff of a Sherlock Holmes story but it pleased me.

Location; Manchester

Picture; Tudor Street in  1895 from the OS map of South Lancashire, 1888-95, courtesy of Digital Archives Association, http://www.digitalarchives.co.uk/

It’s what they do on Beech Road …. on a Tuesday in June

Nothing more exciting than a series of images of one day on a road in Chorlton.

Location; Beech Road

Pictures; what they do on Beech Road, 2024, from the collection of Andrew Simpson

Back in Sidcup in 1961, at the war memorial

I think this will be the last from the series of Sidcup in 1961.

This is the war memorial and our commercial photographer decided on just one more which was a close up of the parish church.

I have to confess I have never visited either but armed with this picture postcard I think I shall go looking for both next time I am home in Well Hall.

Picture; War Memorial, Sidcup, from the set Sidcup by Tuck and Sons, courtesy of Tuck DB, https://www.tuckdb.org/

Who stole Henry ‘Orator’ Hunt? ……..

Now for those who don’t know Henry ‘Orator’ Hunt was one of the outstanding Radicals of the early 19th century.

Henry 'Orator' Hunt, circa 1820

He had campaigned for the reform of Parliament, called for universal suffrage, and demanded an end to child labour, and was imprisoned for two years for being at Peterloo.

Added to which in 1830 he was elected as the MP for Preston on a radical platform and went on to oppose the Reform Act because it didn’t go far enough.

And given such an illustrious commitment to reform and to Manchester, in 1842 he was commemorated by a monument, which four decades later was stolen.

The statue was not in one of the principle public places in the city but out on the edge, sandwiched between rows of working-class dwellings and in the shadow of a textile mill, and surrounded by an iron works, a chemical plant, and umpteen coal wharfs.

All of which I suppose was an appropriate spot for someone who had spent his adult life promoting equality and demanding a better deal for working people.

The Round Chapel and burial ground, Every Street, 1844

The monument was by all accounts an impressive thing.

The base was nearly six feet square and the plinth on which the monument rested was ten feet square.

There were spacious vaults underneath which were intended for “the remains of those who shall distinguish themselves in promoting the principles advocated by the late Henry Hunt”. *

And beneath the foundation stone were placed, the “memoirs of Henry Hunt, the history of the Peterloo massacre and his letters from Lancaster goal to the Reformers [along with] the placard announcing the ceremony, a copper plate likeness of Mr. Fergus O’Connor, and a copy of the address which was subsequently read to the meeting by Mr. Scholefield”.

Fergus O’Connor was one of the leaders of the Chartist movement and Mr. Scholefield, was the Rev. James Scholefield of the Every Street Chapel, and the monument was erected in the burial ground of the chapel.

Media coverage reported that “no less than 15,000 probably one half of whom were Chartists” [congregated] in Every Street and its neighbourhood”.

The Round Chapel, burial ground and Mr. Hunt's monument, 1851

The address referred to the events at Peterloo and the decision “to perpetuate the memory of Henry Hunt, Esq, and of those who fell in that action, by erecting a public monument and thus show to future generations how the people of these times estimated sterling worth, and how they appreciate genuine patriotism”.  

And that pretty much seems to be what happened over the next decade with leading members of the movement buried beside the monument.

In all five were interred in the grave which was “covered by a flat stone bearing the inscription “Names of the members of the Committee interred beneath.  Peter Rothwell died 6th of September 1847, aged 78 years; George Hadfield, died 12th of January 1848, aged 59 years; George Exley, died 24th of January 1848, aged 79 years; Henry Parry Bennet, died 10th of November 1851, aged 65 years; James Wheeler, died 13th of September 1854, aged 63 years”. **

Peterloo, 1819

Sadly, the passage of time had not been kind to Mr. Hunt’s memorial and when the foundation stone was moved in 1888, the printed material had all but disintegrated and was in the words of an observer “rendered almost to pulp”, but there was a “medal of white metal” which was not mentioned in earlier accounts.

It had the figure of justice on one face and on the other a crown and a scroll bearing the words ‘Maga Charta, Liberty, Unity, Justice” and an inscription in the rim ‘Manchester Political Union, established August 16th, 1838’ ‘Universal suffrage, vote by ballot, annual Parliaments’”. **

And that leads me to the destruction of the monument, which was undertaken on the pretext that it was unsafe, although one visitor to the site at the time was less convinced that this was so.

Peterloo, 1819

Nevertheless, the contractor employed to make good the burial ground which had become neglected, broke the monument up and sold the stone for £3, which was then sold on again to “a man at Irlam-o’-the Height” who subsequently could not be traced.

This act of vandalism was condemned at the time and within days of its destruction an appeal was launched to raise money for a new monument.

There was some disagreement about what form the new memorial should take, with some arguing that the old site was unsuitable give the high wall that surrounded the old burial ground and its position on Every Street, “it had long been practically inaccessible for Manchester people” and a better alternative might be “a small marble tablet near the scene of Peterloo”.***

The Round Chapel, 1959

Today, little is left of the burial ground which is now an open piece of land surrounded by social housing and new build, but the outline of chapel has been preserved.

It was demolished in 1986 and a few of the original grave stones have been preserved.

Alas Mr. Hunt’s memorial is lost forever, although not as I first thought because of a vengeful act of conspiracy on the part anti-democratic forces but out of wanton greed compounded by neglect on the part of the family of the late Rev. Scholefield who had died in 1855.

Still I do have the names of the five interred beside the monument and they may yet bring forth fresh insights into Peterloo and that monument, in the centenary year of that massacre in St Peter’s Fields.

Location; Manchester

Pictures; Henry Hunt, circa. 1810, watercolour, by Adam Buck, 1759–1833, Peterloo, 1819 by Richard Carlile, m01563, Peterloo, 1819, m07589, the Round Chapel, 1959, m6868 , Courtesy of Manchester Libraries, Information and Archives, Manchester City Council, http://images.manchester.gov.uk/index.php?session=pass, the Round Chapel and burial ground, 1844, from the OS map of Manchester and Salford, 1842-44, and the Every Street burial ground, showing Mr. Hunt’s memorial, 1851, from Adshead map of Manchester, 1851, courtesy of Digital Archives Association, http://www.digitalarchives.co.uk/

*Monument to the late Henry Hunt, Manchester Guardian, March 27, 1842

**Henry Hunt’s Monument, Manchester Guardian October 6, 1888

***The Henry Hunt Memorial, The Manchester Guardian October 18, 1888

The photograph, a house on South Meade, and a mystery

I am looking at a picture of a group or workmen outside a house on South Meade and at first glance there doesn’t seem to be anything unusual about what I am looking at.

The men represent a cross section of skills, ages and experience, and may well have posed for similar photographs across Chorltonville.

But I know exactly which house this was and have already begun to discover its history which starts with the simple fact that it has been occupied by only two families in the century and a bit since it was built.

And so, while we will never know the identity of the men staring back at us, we do have the deeds, as well as a collection of documents relating to its construction, which will help tell the story of this particular house.

The first family to move in was Mr. and Mrs. Jones.  In 1939 he described himself as a “Commercial Traveller in the Gas Industry”.

Everyone will find something interesting in the picture, with some focusing on the appearance of the men, the presence of the apprentice boy, and the flat caps and pipes.

The building contractor was Thomas Whiteley and a search might turn up something about the building firm, but I doubt that will extend to a list of employees.

For now, until Laura passes over its history for me to look over, we are left with the photograph of the workmen and the image of the house.

But for now, it is exciting that we are able to pin a group of craftsmen to one house sometime in 1911.

Leaving me just to ponder on Mr. and Mrs. Jones and a mystery which might be answered by those documents.

We shall see.

Location; Chorltonville

Picture; workmen outside South Meade, 1911, courtesy of Laura Hopkins

Special thanks to Laura, who kindly showed me the picture and has promised to lend me the house documents and to Jude who lives next door, and first told me about the picture.

Dancing the light fandango ….. by a Spanish bandstand

And the title says the lot.

The purists will point that it is highly unlikely that anyone would be dancing a fandango by a bandstand.

After all as my Wikipedia tell me a “fandango is a lively partner dance originating in Portugal and Spain, usually in triple meter, traditionally accompanied by guitars, castanets, tambourine or hand-clapping. Fandango can both be sung and danced”.*

And that very likely would knock over a few of the chairs around the bandstand and upset Mrs. Trellis of Cleckheaton. 

But as the dance  originated in Portugal and Spain and today’s bandstand image is from Tenerife, there is a sort of logic to the title and Tony’s picture.

According to one source on public parks, the bandstand owed much to the 19th century’s fascination with the Orient.  The basic design may have been copied from “the raised –platform kiosks seen in Turkey and across the Ottoman empire” but was overlaid with influences from Indian palaces and temples.**

The French had shown one of these Turkish stands off at the International Exhibition in Paris in 1855 and what followed was a succession of developments over here with the first unveiled at the Royal Horticultural Show in South Kensington and later moved out to parks in Southwark and Peckham where I came across them as a young boy in the 1950s.

And almost 70 years after I encountered my first bandstand Tony Goulding came across this one in Tenerife, and knowing my fascination for them took time out from his holiday to snap front and back.

‘Nuff said

Pictures, 2024, from the collection of Tony Goulding

*Bandstands, https://chorltonhistory.blogspot.com/search/label/Bandstands

**A Walk in the Park, Travis Elborough 2016, pages 155-56

Poems and pictures ……… at the Royal Oak ......... tomorrow .... midday

I am looking forward to the launch of "Poems by Lindy and Pictures by Peter" which they tell me “will be a memorable afternoon”.

They have “invited Manchester’s top literary artists to come together for an afternoon of spoken word and poetry in celebration of their new book of poems and pictures but despite, working  before on projects,  up till now, they have never collaborated on a book which has produced so much wow.

The idea of illustrating stories is not new and the very first illustrated books were published in 1461 by the cleric and printer, Albrecht Pfister, who was born around 1420 in Bamberg.

What’s unique to this book is the vivid imagination of Peter’s startling images set against the raw emotion created by Lindy’s poetry. 

And so there you have it, a "Sunday Lunchtime of  Spoken Word, Poetry, and the Book Launch", in The Royal Oak Function Room, Chorlton, 12.00 - 2.00pm, Sunday 30th June.

Dip in and out of the book as you wish and revisit the poems and pictures to discover new surprises every time.

Just remember, everything is not always what it seems”.

And with that promise .... clear the diary for that hour on that day, and remember the book is available  from  www.pubbooks.co.uk  and Chorlton Bookshop.

Location; The Royal Oak Function Room, Chorlton, 12.00 - 2.00pm, Sunday 30th June.

Illustration; Oligarch by Peter Topping, 2024

Five pictures …… one road …… and a heap of Chorlton’s story

This is Brook Lane in 1909 on the cusp of a change.

1909

For centuries it had led out of the village past the old Bowling Green Hotel, crossed Chorlton Brook, past Brook Farm, and petered out in several footpaths, one of  which twisted off towards Hardy Lane.

But in the spring of 1909 the eastern side of the lane was being developed by a row of new houses, which faced the entrance to the sewage works, and the home of Charles Hall the manager of the works.

In the distance there is still open land which within a year and bit will be filled with the new Chorltonville estate, while the new brick sides of the bridge over the brook have yet to replace the low stone wall and to the right the scene is dominated by the farm buildings of Charles Cookson who lived in Brook Farm.

1911

The new row of houses bears closer inspection, because the first is being constructed to accommodate a shop, and later photographs show that it was occupied by Mrs. Harrier Forster whose window announced that it was a confectioners, and given that it was the only shop in the row of ten properties I guess she sold a few other “essential” items.

And at the beginning of 1910, Mrs. Forster’s neighbours included a joiner, two engineers, a waiter, and a designer along with two clerks and an architect. 

In time I will trawl the census returns to find out more about these residents and the lives of Charles Cookson and Charles Ball.

1910

For now I will just add the remaining three images , one looking back towards the new Bowling Green Hotel showing the club house, and two looking up the lane.

What makes these two interesting is that they qualify as then and now pictures.  

The first, as the shop is still yet to be finished, and before the ville was built, and the other with Mrs. Foster in residence and the new estate in place.

Together they offer up a series of images of where we live as the township continued on its journey from a small rural community to a large urban settlement on the edge of Manchester.

1910

Just six years before our first picture, Chorlton  rate payers had voted to join the city along with Burnage, Didsbury, and Withington, while at the turn of the century Manchester City Corporation trams had arrived, predated by arrival of the railway.

And the second major housing boom which began in 1880 had transformed the nort side of the township, eliminating the historic hamlet of Marledge and in the minds of many, dividing Chorlton into Old and New Chorlton and creating the two villages of Old and New Chorlton.

Location; Brook Lane

1912

Pictures; of Brook Lane, 1909, J. Jackson, m17679, 1911, B.F., m17684, J. Jackson, 1910, m17681, J. Jackson 1910, m17680, J. Jackson, 1912, m17685, courtesy of Manchester Libraries, Information and Archives, Manchester City Council, http://images.manchester.gov.uk/index.php?session=pass

Standing in Tommy Ducks ……. the legend and its history ….... part 1

Now, Tommy Ducks remains a legendary place in the history of the city.

There will be those who remember the underwear pined on the ceiling, along with the coffin that once took pride of place in the bar, and of course the ongoing debates about its name, and just how it came to be demolished on a night in February 1993.

I don’t remember the coffin, because by the time I was roaming the city centre pubs it had been removed by its owner to the Nag’s Head on Jackson’s Row, although to be accurate the coffin resided in the room to the left of the Lloyd Street entrance.

My friend Elaine who worked at Tommy’s, offered up the story of what happened to the coffin along with a press clipping from the Manchester Evening News and the story of how Mr. Ken Riggs who had run the pub through the 1970s took it with him when he left for the Nags’ Head leaving the new landlord, Mr. Ormod to substitute a headstone in its memory because “customers missed the coffin”.

All of which means that Tommy Ducks on East Street  had always been more than just a place to visit for a quiet drink.

Looking through the wealth of material on the pubs including the speculation on its name and its origins I decided to go back to basics, and trawl the historic records.

Once, numbers 8 and 10 East Street were part of a long row of terraced houses, which were there by 1848 and were built sometime between then and 1819.

From the 1840s through to 1864 what became Tommy Ducks was just a residential  property, consisting of just four rooms, with a cellar.

The 1860s Rate Books show that both the house and cellar were rented out s dwelling places.*

But during 1864 a James Robinson moved in and opened up a beer house, at which point both the rent and the rates doubled, from a rent of £9 to £18 and a new rate of £15 from just £8.

The Robinson’s tenure was short and mid way through 1867 the place was taken over by Thomas and Charlotte Duckworth, who were granted a license for selling beer under the title of the Princess Tavern.

They had already run beer shops across the city.  In 1861 they were on St James Street, off Charlotte Street, dispensing cheer and beer, and four years later were doing the same on Hancock Street which was off Rochdale Road.

And while I haven’t yet made a link, there was an Ellen Duckworth running a beer house at 20-22 Hancock Street in 1863.

The Duckworth’s remained at East Street into the early 1880s, although the business is listed in the name of Charlotte in 1878.

And that pretty much is it,  for the rest of the 19th century and through the next it continued to operate as a beer house rather than a pub and is listed as such as late as 1950, and there are images of it with the old Princess Tavern name alongside that of Tommy Ducks.**

During those two centuries, it was surrounded by industrial units, saw most of the rest of the terrace disappear, including the intriguing court, called Faulkner’s Square.

Leaving me just to invite anyone with memories of the pub to participate in a “SHORT LOCAL FILM OPPORTUNITY”, the organiser of which have written, 

“We are looking for interviewees on a project about the legacy of the Tommy Ducks pub, which used to stand opposite of the Midlands Hotel on what is now lower Mosley St. 

This legendary pub is remembered in countless stories, including those of its peculiar decor and unfortunate demolition. 

We are hoping to explore the mythology and memory of the pub through personal testimony/interview. 

If you have stories and memories to share, either via Zoom or face to face (in the outdoors) in a COVID risk-assessed and friendly environment, please email tilliequattrone@gmail.com.”

Location; Manchester

Picture; Elaine at Tommy Duck's courtesy of Elaine Archer, the pub in 1978/9, from the collection of Andy Robertson and East Street circa 1903 from Gould's Fire Insurance Maps, 1880-1903, courtesy of Digital Archives Association, http://www.digitalarchives.co.uk/   EasStreet in 1950, from the OS map of Manchester & Salord 1950

Painting; Tommy Ducks © 2011 Peter Topping

Web: www.paintingsfrompictures.co.uk

Next; more on the Duckworth family

Manchester Rate Books, 1860-1900, Census records, 1841-1911 and Directories, 1841-1911

**Tommy Ducks, 1972, m50660, courtesy of Manchester Libraries, Information and Archives, Manchester City Council, http://images.manchester.gov.uk/index.php?session=pass

Always look down …….. travels across Tenerife encountering the interesting

Over the years I have inducted into the Street Furniture Hall of Fame, the historic, the bizarre and the nondescript and today it is the turn of a humble access plate for Alumbrado Publico Funca.

Now not speaking Spanish I assumed Alumbrado was a place, but it turns out to be the word for lighting, leading me just to   offer up the full translation ….. Funca Public Lighting.

And that is almost that, other than to thank Tony Goulding who wins this weeks commendation for recording the plate while on holiday in Tenerife and sharing his puzzlement at his second image of a circular plate arising from the bare earth on top of a concrete lump.

Happily his final offering was both easy to discern and an amusing mix of Spanish and English …….. “Loro Parque  El must de Canarias” “Parrot Park, The must of the Canary Islands”

So I await the holiday snaps of green parrot's grey lizards and offerings from the souvenir shop along with the menu of suitably themed meals from the the restaurant at the end of the Park, which judging from their site is more extensive and exciting than the poster would suggest.

For here they tell me "Modern zoos are embassies for animals and the ideal showcase for bringing the natural world closer to people.

We have been conceived as a place for animal care, scientific study, and awareness of the global environmental crisis, we are one of the most active links in the current animal and environmental protection not only in the Canary Islands, but throughout the world".*

And for those who might want to take the adventure, tickets in J

Location Tenerife tickets in June and July run from €42 for adults to €30 for children.

Pictures; the Spanish additions to the Street Furniture Hall of Fame, 2024, from the collection of Tony Goulding

*Lor Parque https://www.loroparque.com/en/

Who laments the passing of the old milk machine?

It is as much a piece of history as the Penny Farthing bike or the old fashioned tram.  

I am trying to remember when I would have used one.  I suppose it would have been after the pub in those years when I was a student and living in a bed sit in Withington.

There used to be a milk machine by the Scala Cinema which in turn was beside the White Lion. And I guess it would have been that bit of forward thinking about milk for breakfast which would have got me using it.

But then without a fridge and with most shops having closed by nine in the evening buying your emergency milk from a machine made sense.

Of course getting the cartoon open was another matter.

All of which  got me thinking about the age of the vending machine which I assumed came along in the 19th century.

And there I was wrong, there is a reference to one in the first century when Hero of Alexandria came up with a machine to dispense holy water.*

The first modern one was introduced onto a London street in the early 1880s and sold post cards.  For me the first I really remember were the Five Boys Chocolate bars usually on railway stations and which could be guaranteed to deliver slightly dry flaking chocolate which had gone white at the edges. There were also the polo mint machines and the chewing gum ones.

Along with the cigarette machines they were just one of those bits of street furniture you took for granted.  I don’t really remember when they began to disappear to be replaced by the giant all glass fronted multipurpose dispenser.

As for the milk vending machine I rather think they began to vanish in the 1970s, possibly in the wake of the supermarket revolution along with cheap fridges.  For who would want to stand at what was often a shabby and knocked about machine, fumbling for the sixpence only to discover the coin had got stuck, the machine refused to accept it or worst still there were no cartoons left?

This one was on on Shude Hill and was photographed in the March of 1960 which may have been at the height of their popularity.

I suppose they fitted into that new high tech way of life that was the late 1950s and 60s, and I have to say that thinking back to the period it does look ultra modern and there was something novel about getting your milk this way instead of from a milkman.

Not of course that the milkman visits many houses anymore and I hear today that one more newspaper is about to turn itself over to an electronic version.

As someone who grew up in the 50s thinking that milk delivered to the door step along with a daily newspaper was the hall mark of civilized life this all seems a little sad.

And if  I don’t stop I am in danger of sounding like my uncle who still could not bring himself to accept the fall of Constantinople.

Pictures; vending machine on Shude Hill taken by L Kaye, March 1960, courtesy of Manchester Libraries, Information and Archives, Manchester City Council, m59879, m59878, m5987, http://images.manchester.gov.uk/index.php?session=pass