Saturday, 31 August 2024

Four petrol pumps ….. three concrete stumps ........ and two pizza shops

There will be many who remember the three concrete stumps outside what are now Pizza Hut and Domino’s on Wilbraham Road.

1959
And there may still be some who can recall the four petrol pumps which stood on those concrete plinths.

They are gone now but for almost all of the time I have lived in Chorlton the stumps were there.

At some point when part of the building was the pottery studio, they had been decorated with colourful tiles but I have to confess I thought little about them. 

Only once did I ponder on whether they had been the base for petrol pumps which of course was what they were for here was Wilbraham Garage. 

It wasn’t the first in Chorlton, that was probably Shaw’s on Barlow Moor Road but still it is an indication of how far the motor car had taken over.  The three stumps supported four pumps which stood in front of the shop and garage and like Shaw’s were in a row of conventional shops and houses.

And last night with the help of Anthony Petrie I went looking for the history of the garage, the pumps and the concrete plinths.

He has access to four street directories spanning the early and middle decades of the last century.

Street directories record the residents and businesses street by street, with separate listings in alphabetical and trade order.

2023
The Manchester and Salford directories go back to the late 18th century becoming more detailed during the following two centuries.

The last was published in 1969 and because they were compiled and published annually offer up a record of who and what was where and how in some cases occupants moved around the twin cities.

In 1954 613 Wilbraham Road was home to Wilbraham Garage which is still listed there in 1961, leaving me just to book into Central Ref and go looking either side of 1954 and 1961 to establish when the garage opened and when it closed.

1985
But in the nature of these things, I bet someone will know.

For now I can just record that in 1929 the site was home to the accountant Harry Moorhouse who had diversified into cinemas and owned a chain which stretched across Manchester.

Although I rather think his house was demolished or seriously altered to accommodate the garage.

We shall see.

But that is not quite the end of the tale, because here after perhaps 40s years are two of the tiles made by the Pottery Studio.

For almost four decades they were part of the tiled surround to our bath.  

And when the old bath went and were replaced by a walk in shower only a handful survived.

Perhaps not a petrol pump or concrete stump but a reminder of that spot.

Location; Wilbraham Road

Picture; Wilbraham Road,, A E Landers, 1959, M18423, courtesy of Manchester Libraries, Information and Archives, Manchester City Council, http://images.manchester.gov.uk/index.php?session=pass in 1985 from the collection of Tom McGrath  in 2023, courtesy of Google Maps, and two of the tiles from the Pottery Studio, 2023, from the collection of Andrew Simpson

Find out more about the story on Sunday when you can join me for The short Chorlton History Walk that’s got the lot ……. at 2pm oiutside Benitos on Wilbraham Road, which is part of  Chorlton Get Together; https://chorlton.coop/event/get-together-2023/

Somewhere in Manchester before 1911

Now here’s an image with a story, but sadly not one that wants to be revealed.

We are somewhere in Manchester possibly between 1908 and 1911 and the photograph was part of a series of glass slides taken to illustrate the police duty of escorting a procession. 

The original caption simply reads: Procession: Sunday school.

The curator at the Greater Manchester Police Museum suggests that it “may have been in connection with the Whit Walks but I can't be certain. The location is presumed to be Manchester, but there is nothing in the original to say where.”*

That said there is one possible clue to its location and that is the bank directly to our right.  This was one of the branches of the Parrs Bank Ltd, which had premises across the twin cities.  Now given that this is a Manchester City Police photograph that further limits it to a small number of sites.

The road looks to be one of the main through fares into the city which further limits our choice and points to Stockport Road, or Oldham Road in Newton Heath.  Now I can’t be sure but the Parrs Bank on Oldham Road was on a corner which matches our picture, so just maybe we have the place.

As for an event it might be a Whit Walk but these were held in June and even given Manchester’s unpredictable weather the coats, hats and scarves suggest sometime either in winter or early spring.  So we could be looking at a Sunday school procession or some other similar occasion.

The children and there seem to be a fair mix of the well to do and not so well off are treating the walk as something to enjoy and while one serious faced youth looks warily at the camera, the majority are just enjoying themselves.

Along with the solitary policeman the procession is flanked by women many of whom are wearing shawls some loosely over their heads and others partially covering their faces.
It is a wonderful snap shot of early 20th century Manchester and I rather think in time will offer up much more.

Picture; Procession: Sunday School, 1908-1911, courtesy of Greater Manchester Police Museum, http://www.gmpmuseum.com/



*Duncan Broady, Curator, Museum & Archives, Greater Manchester Police Museum & Archive

The ship …….. a lighter …. and the River

Now I am the first to admit as pictures go these might not be the ones to enter for “The most exciting picture of the century”, but they are over 40 years old and come from a time when the Thames was still a working river.

I had wandered down to Greenwich looking for the old food factory where I had worked at the beginning of the 1970s.

It was called Glenvilles and was close the Tunnel, and along the way I decided to record whatever took my interest.

Just exactly where along the water I was I can’t now remember, but in the second image there are the silos of what I think were Tunnel Refineries, which after the passage of four decades  is as close as you will get to a location

Happily I am sure someone will correct me, citing the exact spot and adding heaps more detail.

Well we shall see.

And here is the reminder that we should all record the place, date and a bit of background information each time we go out with a camera.

Leaving me just to say that before anyone sneers at the quality of the images, they were taken when I was just beginning to develop and print my own photographs, using smelly photography and the negatives have sat in the cellar for 40 years.

Location; The River

Picture; The ship …….. a barge …. and the River, circa 1978/79 from the collection of Andrew Simpson


Ernie Toseland – F.A. Cup winner 1934 … another story by Tony Goulding

This is one of those occasions when a chance encounter throws up an addition to a previous story. I have written before of Chorlton-cum-Hardy's links to Manchester City’s cup winning teams of both 1934 and 1956. (1)

 Ernie Toseland
As revealed in the above-mentioned story both the goalkeeper, Frank Swift, and right-half, Matt Busby, of the 1934 team had homes in Chorlton-cum-Hardy during the 1950s and 60s. I have now learnt that “City’s” right-winger that day, Ernie Toseland was also a resident, living for a time on Wilbraham Road. 

 Ernest Toseland was born in Kettering, Northamptonshire on St. Patrick’s Day, 17th March 1905. After playing for a couple of local amateur teams he appeared professionally for Coventry City; a club then a fixture in the old Third Division (South). A successful initial season in which he scored 11 goals in only 22 matches brought him to the attention of clubs from the higher divisions and in March 1929 he was signed by Manchester City; the transfer fee of £3,000 being a club record at the time.

 Ernie, as he was more widely known, remained in Manchester for the next ten years, making a total of 411 appearances and scoring 75 goals. With Matt Busby and Frank Swift mentioned above, he played in the 1934 F. A. Cup final when City defeated Portsmouth 2-1. Like Busby, he had also appeared in the final the previous year; City being beaten 3-0 by Everton on that occasion. Ernie was also featured in every match in the 1936-7 season when City were crowned League Champions for the first time in their history.

 While playing at Maine Road, like many of his fellow team members, he lived close to the ground. The 1939 Register shows Ernie living with his wife Florence Grace (née Renard) (2) and his two young daughters at 17, Bowdon Avenue, Fallowfield, Manchester. (a third daughter was born post-war in 1948). Interestingly although now in the Fallowfield ward, the 1941 Manchester rate books reveal that Bowdon Avenue was then in the Chorlton-cum-Hardy ward.

 The Toseland family rented their house from the Manchester corporation Ernie only earning the maximum wage allowed by the Football League, which in 1939 was £8-00 a week during the 37 weeks of the season, dropping to £6-00 a week in the close season. 

The “National Register” was taken on 29th September 1939 by which time the 1939-40 Football League season had been abandoned, curtailing Ernie’s playing career. He had in fact already played his final game for Manchester City, a 3-1 loss at home to Plymouth Argyle in the Second Division on 18th February 1939 and had been transferred to Sheffield Wednesday for whom he made a total of just 15 appearances though 3 of these were in the cancelled 1939-40 season the details of which were expunged from the records.

 Ernest did not play League football again when it started up again in 1946-7 but did play a number of games for Rochdale in the regionalised League and Cup competitions, which did take place (3) Ernest had a successful swan-song season for Mossley in the Cheshire County League during 1946-7 in which he scored 12 goals in 49 appearances.  With his career as a professional footballer coming to an end Ernest began working for G. & W. Turner, a chain of wine and spirit merchants / off-licenses in the South Manchester area (4).  He worked his way up the company eventually becoming a shop manager and this is how he came to be living above this shop on Wilbraham Road in Chorlton-cum-Hardy near to its junction with Barlow Moor Road. 

Shops on Wilbraham Road, 1959
For those who remember this area from the 1950s and 60s, it was between Quarmby’s the stationers cum toy shop and the Norweb/Manweb Electricity office and showroom.

To complete Ernie’s story, after retirement he moved to Bramhall, Stockport where he died on19th October 1987. He was cremated at the Manchester Crematorium on Barlow Moor Road, Chorlton-cum-Hardy.

Pictures: - Ernie Toseland from collection of Tony Goulding, shops on Wilbraham Road (1959) m18444  by A.E. Landers courtesy of Manchester Libraries, Information and Archives, Manchester City Council. http://images.manchester.gov.uk/index.php?session=pass

Notes: -

   1)  Chorlton-cum-Hardy’s F. A. Cup Final “triangle” 19th November 2016.

   2) Ernest and Florence Grace were married in the morning of 26th November 1932 at St. Crispin’s Church, Hart Road, Fallowfield, Manchester. This church was probably the closest one to the Maine Road ground, which was just as well as Ernie was in the Manchester City team to face Aston Villa in the First Division the same afternoon. His performance doesn’t appear to have been affected as City triumphed 5-2 against a very strong Aston Villa side who went on to finish the season as runners-up in the League to Arsenal. Perhaps the presence of his new wife in the stand spurred Ernie on!

     3) Football in the wartime years was somewhat chaotic as many players (including Ernie) were in the armed forces and though matches were played their competitive nature was limited as the exigences of war service meant that clubs teams would be depleted and would feature guest players. In this way Ernie played some more matches for Manchester City, quite regularly for Stockport County as well as occasional appearances for a club in Scottish “junior” Football – Carnoustie Panmore. These appearances are not included in the career records of players, they did nevertheless often attract substantial attendances. Ernest’s debut game for Rochdale, versus Crewe Alexandra, on 29th December 1945 was witnessed by a crowd of almost 6,000 as reported in the Evening Sentinel (Stoke-on-Trent) following the match.

4) G.& W. Turner Ltd. consisted of least 6 shops: -

3 in the City of Manchester viz.

 369, Wilbraham Road, Chorlton-cum-Hardy.

 99, Yarburgh Street, Moss Side.

 21, Moss Lane West, Hulme.

           And   

337, Stretford Road, Old Trafford, Stretford.

 86, Heaton Moor Road, Stockport.

 21, Deansgate, Radcliffe, Bury.

Acknowledgements – In addition to the usual sources on Find My Past I have used a number of Football Archives available online Two Manchester City sites, Bluemoon-MCFC https://bluemoon-mcfc.co.uk/Club and City till I die https://www.citytilidie.com 

Also, for Ernie’s games for Sheffield Wednesday,

  The Sheffield Wednesday HYPERLINK "https://www.bing.com/ck/a?!&&p=93e91a659eadb974JmltdHM9MTcyNDcxNjgwMCZpZ3VpZD0wZjVlZjQwOC1mNTNhLTYxNGQtMzRmMC1lMGIzZjQ4MTYwZjYmaW5zaWQ9NTIwMQ&ptn=3&ver=2&hsh=3&fclid=0f5ef408-f53a-614d-34f0-e0b3f48160f6&psq=sheffield+wednesday+archives&u=a1aHR0cDovL2FkcmlhbmJ1bGxvY2suY29tL3N3ZmMvc3RhdHMvc3dmY2FyY2guaHRt&ntb=1"Archive

http://adrianbullock.com/swfc/stats/swfcarch.htm

    Finally, delving into my substantial stack of old Manchester City match programmes I made use of two articles. These were from the match vs Southampton of 25th September 1971 which included a short biography of Ernie by Eric Todd of “The Guardian” in a series called “Memories of the Past”. The second was an obituary by Richard Bott of The Sunday Express published in the regular feature “Past Masters” from the programme of the match versus Barnsley on 24th October 1987.


Friday, 30 August 2024

Travels with Timmy Tram and the talking guide book

11’o clock on a sunny morning bound for town on the Cornbrook tram can be a mundane journey.

The towering new residential blocks by Knott Mill, 2024

If you have done it enough times, you can plot the scenery, from the new high-rise developments, to the glimpses of the canal, and watch for the towering new residential blocks by Knott Mill.

But today was different, because as the tram closed in on Castlefield, the driver drew our attention to the new garden in the sky, directing our gaze to the rusty lattice work of metal which was once part of the railway viaduct describing where we could gain access and just what we might see, adding that there were plans to extend it.*

The rusty lattice work of metal, 2024
And then once passed the garden, he explained that after leaving Deansgate Castlefield, we would slow down to accommodate the ramp from railway to road but would have fine views of the historic buildings on either side.

At which point I turned to the woman next to me and expressed the thought that perhaps I wouldn’t alight at St Peter’s Square but travel on in expectation that the talking guidebook would offer up more stories of the route all the way to Victoria and beyond.

Yellow Cornbrook, 2024

Alas he was silent and at Exchange I chose to leave.

Queues form at Cornbrook for the talking tram guidebook, 2024
But I rather think we may be onto something here.

Already Peter Topping and I have begun to think that our new series of books which collectively are entitled “The History of Great Manchester By Tram, The Stories at the Stops” could be enhanced by audio links activated at each stop via your phone connected to our books.**

There is more but I am bound at this stage to keep the plans secret.

Still the first book, Trafford Bar to East Didsbury is in the bookshops and the second following the tram from Cornbrook to Exchange Square is almost ready.

Leaving Cornbrook for town, 2024
Eventually the series will span the entire network, following all eight routes and all 99 stops with stories from me, heaps of old photographs and a collection of original paintings by Peter, which together will make a unique history of Greater Manchester

And like all our books it is designed to be walked, and so with book in hand you can leave the tram at each stop and explore the further reaches of each destination.

It is available from Chorlton Bookshop, and from us at www.pubbooks.co.uk, price £4.99

Leaving me just to say it really did happen and thank you to the unknown driver who lifted the collective feelings of his passengers.

Location; Cornbrook to Exchange Square

Pictures, travelling by tram from Cornbrook to Exchange Square, 2024, from the collection of Andrew Simpson

*Castlefield Viaduct, https://www.nationaltrust.org.uk/visit/cheshire-greater-manchester/castlefield-viaduct

* A new book on the History of Greater Manchester By Tram, https://chorltonhistory.blogspot.com/search/label/A%20new%20book%20on%20the%20History%20of%20Greater%20Manchester%20by%20Tram


At Cornbrook, 2024

When we still had a furniture shop and a free car park .... down by the Lloyds in 1990

Now I am on a roll again with pictures from our most recent past.

And so here is another of Andy Robertson’s taken I think in the early 1990s.

I will leave you to identify the shops which have gone, along with that little piece of history which was Chorlton’s lost car par, which I think was free, contained also a set of public lavatories, and once a very very long time ago had been a set of tennis courts beside the Lloyds.

Picture;  looking out towards Wilbraham Road, circa 1990, from the collection of Andy Robertson

False dawns…. promising leads ……. the search for Glenton Tours goes on

Glenton Tours was a coach company at the luxury end of the market offering high class trips across Britain and the Continent from the 1920s into the late part of the 20th century.*

Luggage label, undated

And I have gone looking for their story, partly because they were the backdrop to my life in Peckham and later Eltham and because Dad worked for them for 50 years from 1932 till he retired.

Dad and the courier, Elizabeth, undated
In the summer he drove their coaches to the Lakes and into Scotland as well as France, the Low Countries, Switzerland, and Italy.

In the winter he worked in the garage off Brabham Grove, and later in Charlton.  So linked were they with Peckham that when the garage was demolished and replaced by a housing development it was called Glenton Mews.

Their head office was 397 Queens Road and as well as the offices in New Cross they had a West End office at 109 Jermyn Street.

From the 1965 brochure

I have written about them over the years but recently I have also become aware of just what a presence they had on our family.**

Last week I came across a newspaper account of the company from 1983 which had been reissued in Commercial Motor Archive and my interest was reignited.

Undated

Glenton’s had been owned by an estate agent in New Cross called Saxton, and today I went looking for them.

The good news was that the firm still exists, but the bad news is that they were bought out leaving me to wonder where next to go.

One lead is an employee of the old company who may get back to me tomorrow, and there are always other routes which I am convinced will yield results.

And on the way I will reveal a bit more about the people dad worked for, from Elizabeth a courier, Frank, Taffy and Wishy Washy who worked in the garage and the Saxton family.

We shall see.

Location southeast London

Brochure, 1951

Pictures; Glenton Tours memorabilia from the Simpson collection

Grindelwald, undated

* 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

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

Pictures of an older Eltham and memories by a boy from Peckham

The Old Woolwich Road, 1896
This is the Old Woolwich Road in 1896 which ran from Eltham to Woolwich.

It had long since become known as Well Hall Lane and is now Well Hall Road.

Originally it had a more devious route starting a little west of the church, following the route of the modern Sherard Road down to what is now the station before heading off north past Well Hall House and onto Shooters Hill and the woods.

When the picture was taken much of the road north of the station was still open fields and yet within the living memory of those born in the second half of the 19th century much of it was to become an urban landscape.

Our house on the Progress Estate had been built in 1915 and when we arrived just under fifty years later it was hard to imagine that it had been anything other than neat terraced and semi detached properties.

And yet for me this spot was still pretty much as green as you could get it. Not only had the estate been laid out in the style of the Garden town with its large grassed areas and open greens but you were close to the common and at the start of the woods.

So for a boy from Peckham this was something new.  Now where I had come from we did have a few parks but they were hemmed in by tall Victorian buildings and when each week we went with school to play football it was a coach ride away in leafy Surrey.

And Eltham was different in other ways. Its church  still looked like an old parish church with its crumbling headstones in the graveyard and an ancient history stretching back into the Middle Ages.

A bit of Gravel Pit Lane, 1909
It was a while before I discovered the Tudor Barn and the Palace but both just served to deepen that sense that here was somewhere very different from where I had been born.

And it was always reemphasised when the train took that long curve from Kidbrook towards Well Hall with Shooters Hill in the distance.

Now this may seem so much nostalgic tosh but underneath I suspect is that simple observation that even given fifty years of urban growth there was quite a bit of that old rural Eltham left if you knew where to look.

Which leads me to a new series of stories looking not at the Eltham of the 1840s and 50s but at the Eltham which was about to enter the 20th century.

And in a way just like “no one expects the Spanish Inquisition” I doubt that many expected what was just around the corner.

Picture; from The story of Royal Eltham, R.R.C. Gregory, 1909 and published on The story of Royal Eltham, by Roy Ayers, http://www.gregory.elthamhistory.org.uk/bookpages/i001.htm



Oysters from London on sale in Smithy Door


It is a long time since I featured an advert from the 1850s. 

So here is one for Oysters sold by William Whitaker who “guarantees the FISH he sells, so that the Public may have confidence in all purchases made at his Establishment.”  Well you can’t say fairer than that.

Picture; from Slater’s Manchester & Salford Directory, 1850

Thursday, 29 August 2024

How long before the last Chorlton farmer has gone? ……….. when things change

“Every year we witness the loss of another field to the onward march of brick and glass, and I truly wonder when all that will be left of the old Chorlton-cum-Hardy will be the memories of those ancient men and women who laboured in the open, brought in the yearly harvest and sent the produce of the land they tilled to market”.

Mr. Higginbotham brings in the harvest, undated
It is a lament for the passing of a rural way of life which might well have been uttered by many here in Chorlton during the last two decades of the 19th century.

From the 1880s through into the 1920s, there was a huge housing boom, extending along Barlow Moor Road, Wilbraham Road and out in all directions.

It had started after the arrival of the railway at Stretford in 1849, gathered pace with the creation of Wilbraham Road in the late 1860s and became a boom in the succeeding decades.

The first new houses were grand mansions set in ample grounds and home to wealthy businessmen, later came the rows of semi-detached and terraced properties occupied by professionals, managers and clerks many of whom worked in town and wanted to retreat to a semi-rural Chorlton.

Ploughing Row Acre, circa 1894
In 1851 there had been just 750 people in the three small hamlets that made up Chorlton-cum-Hardy, and most were engaged in growing crops or the related trades of blacksmith, wheelwright and thatcher.  
Added to which earlier in the century there is evidence of handloom weaving.

And three decades later perhaps 50% of the cottages were still constructed of wattle and daub that mainstay of rural properties.

Mains water only arrived in the early 1860s, followed by gas a decade later along with the first sanitation works, and the railway and later corporation tram network from 1880 onwards.

It was the combination of all these which made possible the housing boom.

Wilbraham Road, circa 1911
Plus, a clever plan by the main landowners to make it easier for speculative builders to engage in building and of course that simple fact that rents from agricultural land were no where near what could be accrued from properties.

All of which brings me back to the opening quotation abhorring that swift spread of urbanization.

And here I have to be honest ….. I made it up, because the opinions of those who worked on the land have not survived.

Thomas Ellwood our own historian did collect the memories of some “old residents” in the course of writing his history of Chorlton-cum- Hardy during the winter of 1885 and the spring of 1886, and they described many of the old rural practices but remained silent on the changes.*

Looking down Wilbraham Road, undated

That said we do know that the area around the former four banks stretching up to the library and out to Longford Hall became known as New Chorlton or the New Village/New Town to distinguish it from Old Chorlton which was the area around the village green and up Beech Road.

And to reinforce that divide New Chorlton had the banks and most of the shops while in the village we had just a post office and the Penny Savings Bank which opened for just a few hours once a week in the school on the green.

But it was a divide which lasted a full century with people still referring to Old and New Chorlton at the turn of this century.

Looking out on Manchester Road from the Sedge Lynn, circa 1880s
Such are the ways we react to change, and it was one of those comments on social media about how much Chorlton had changed and changed for the worse which occasioned this story.

I have been here since 1976 and there has been plenty of change, and some not in my opinion for the best, but it is as well to remember that very few communities stay the same.

And most places are constantly renewing themselves with buildings and with people.

Leading me to smile at those who publish comments about true “Chorltonians” as if there has even been a time.

So going back to 1851, the roads, lanes and fields of our township would have been alive with the accents of people from all over the UK, many of whom were domestic or farm servants. 

The smithy, Beech Road circa 1880
The arrival of the Duke’s Canal in nearby Stretford followed by the railway in 1849 would have opened up Chorlton, as indeed did the itinerant traders who plied their businesses around the villages south of Manchester, and of course the “weekend visitors” from town looking for peaceful country walks or on the “lash” looking for opportunities to drink themselves happily into oblivion in our small pubs and beer shops.

Now “No one expects the Spanish Inquisition” and few in the 1840s and ‘50s would have seen that housing boom coming and just how within a few decades it would transform our small rural community.**

Funny how things change.

Location; Chorlton-cum-Hardy

Pictures; Bringing in the harvest, date unknown,  Ploughing Row Acre before it became the Recreation Ground, 1894 , courtesy of William Higginbotham, Wilbraham Road, circa 1900,  from the Lloyd Collection, Manchester Road from the Sedge Lynn, courtesy of Miss Booth, 1880s, , and the Smithy on Beech Road, circa 1880s, from the Lloyd Collection

*The History of Chorlton-cum-Hardy, Thomas Ellwood, 1885-86, in 26 articles, published in the South Manchester Gazette

**Monty Python's Flying Circus, series 2 episode 2 September 22nd 1970

Looking for a ball of wool, a lb. of apples and much more on Wilbraham Road

I doubt that any one born before 1980 would ever think that the stretch of Wilbraham Road from Albany down to Manchester Road would be populated by a string of fast food outlets, bars and charity shops or that Quarmby’s, Dewhurst’s and Meadow’s would have vanished like snow under a winter sun.

It’s not an original idea I know, but in the space of two decades much traditional retailing has gone.

I miss it, but I recognize that that way of shopping has pretty much gone, and the arrival of the bar culture has at least kept the shops from staying closed.

What follows are two pictures taken some time in the 1950s into the 1960s, of the businesses on Wilbraham Road and Barlow Moor Road.

I could write more, having explored the history of some of the shops, and made comment on the road signs and bus stops, but I won’t.  

However, the challenge is there for anyone what can to trawl their memory and offer up some memories of the shops, or better still some pictures.

Location; Chorlton

Pictures; Wilbraham and Barlow Moor Road’s, circa 1950s/60s. from the collection of Dave King

“At present we do nothing at all other than parade” ......... sharing a day in 1915 with George Davison at Woolwich Barracks*

Mr and Mrs Davison and their son, 1916 Ireland
Now I went looking for anything that might have happened on October 27 1915 but the databases proved unrewarding.

“Unfortunately” according to one “there are no historic events for this date” other than it was the day that Herschel Saltzman was born and as everyone knows he  “was a Canadian theatre and film producer best known for his mega-gamble which resulted in his co-producing the James Bond film series with Albert R.”**

So a day of little significance which was pretty much how George Davison of the Royal Artillery described that Monday in 1915 to his wife in a letter home.

Woolwoch Barracks circa 1914
He had enlisted the year before had spent Christmas and most of 1915 in Ireland before briefly being posted to Woolwich and judging by his comments the army was not quite ready for his arrival.

There were no beds but he had managed to “find two blankets and use my coat and trousers for a pillow – the floor is the only bed and it is abominably draughty.  Our German friends (?) chipped pieces off the barracks the other day and part of the roof is being temporarily held up by wooden joists.”

And time hung heavily “at present we do nothing at all other than parade at 6 o clock am 8 am and 1.45 pm to see if any clothing is available.  There are no knives forks or spoons to eat with so you can imagine the result when fingers have to be used.”

George's letter to Nellie, October 27 1915
His experiences were no doubt echoed by his companions and conditions must have been grim given “that there are 1500 more men than the place will accommodate” which accounted for meal times being “something approaching a football scramble.”

Added to which he was still unable to “send a complete address [because] there are about 1000 other recruits to be dealt with before I get posted to any Battery.”

But there were compensations and George had managed to get the pendant and chain his wife had asked for.

Now on the surface it is an unremarkable letter but of course that is what makes it so important, for here stuck in Woolwich was George Davison biding his time as the army coped with the huge numbers of men who had volunteered since the outbreak of war.

For anyone who knows Woolwich Barracks George’s description of his time there will be of special interest more so because of the reference to Zeppelin raids.

And here I have to own up to a personal connection because just under a year after the letter was written the house two doors down to ours on Well Hall Road was destroyed by a Zeppelin bomb.

History of War, Part XXIV October 27 1915
Nor is that the only link with Mr Davison because for a while he lived here in Chorlton-cum-Hardy just a short walk from our house on Beech Road.

But even if there were not these personal links I have over the last year become close to the man as I work my through the collection of letters he sent home to his wife.

The George Davison Collection is a wonderful insight into how one family coped with the Great War and is a neat contrast to a contemporary account of the war issued by the Manchester Guardian every fortnight.***

And by sheer chance the first volume I have is dated October 27 1915 and covers the Italian Campaign, Russian Domestic Politics and the war on the Western Front with the added bonus of a series of adverts for everything from A Sun Bath to Valkasa the Tonic Nerve Food and the Manchester Guardian Christmas Gifts Fun known as "Tommy's Christmas which was “open again for the supply of Comforts for Lancashire and Cheshire Regiments at the Front.”

I will never know if Mr Davison read the history or if he benefited from “Tommy’s Christmas.”

By November 1915 he was back in Ireland and there he would stay till he was posted to the Western Front.

Pictures; of George Davison his wife Nellie and son, the extract from his letter, postcard of Woolwich Barracks and over of the History of War, courtesy of David Harrop.

*The George Davison collection is a unique record of material held by David Harrop and includes letters postcards, official documents many personal items from when Mr Davison was born in Manchester to his death on the Western Front in June 1918 and continues into the middle of the century. George Davison, http://chorltonhistory.blogspot.co.uk/search/label/George%20Davison

**HISTORYINDATES, http://historyindates.com/27-october-1915/

***The Manchester Guardian History of the War

Celebrating a year of peace on Salford streets in the summer of 1919

Now my grandparents never talked about the Great War.

It was something they lived through and seemed happy not to dwell on.

Nor did they or my mum and dad spend much time looking back at the rerun.

To be fair they answered the questions I asked but never initiated a conversation.

Given our own family tragedy which hung over the events of the Second World War I can understand why.

I don’t know how mum and dad celebrated either VE Day or VJ Day and I never cared to ask my grandparents how they saw in the Armistice Day celebrations on November 11, 1918.

But it will not have been like many.  Granddad was somewhere on the Western Front, and Nana was in Cologne, and so while my grandfather, his two brothers and my two uncles would have passed  the day with a mix of relief and fun, she faced up to the defeat of her country.

Al of which would have been a long way from the streets of Salford when this Corporation tram was dressed for a Victory Day Parade the following year.

It comes from the collection of David Harrop who maintains an extensive collection of memorabilia from both world wars along with an equally extensive set of material covering the history of the postal service.

In time I will go looking for stories of that day along with others from Armistice Day.

Location; Salford

Picture; illuminated Salford “Victory” Tram 1919, courtesy of David Harrop

Wednesday, 28 August 2024

The pot under the bed …… and other stories

I have been thinking of what one item marks my childhood off from our kids and it is the chamber pot. 

My chamber pot, date unknown
My Wikipedia tells me it is “a portable toilet, meant for nocturnal use in the bedroom.

It was common in many cultures before the advent of indoor plumbing and flushing toilets”*

.Now I am open to all sorts of suggestions for alternative “things” of which computers, the internet, CD’s, social media, and mobiles could be considered, but I still go for the chamber pot.

At which point I must confess that at home in Peckham we did have “indoor plumbing and flushing toilets”, but not so my grandparents who had lived in Hope Street in Derby from the mid-1920s, and finally left for a posh house almost 40 years later.

And for them a visit to the loo meant the outside lavatory which had been a shared affair until sometime in the 1940s.

There will be plenty of people who are quick to shout out their experiences of sitting in all weathers while listening to the daily doings of neighbours in the shared yard.   What ever the time of year it was not the best of experiences and one which might be shared with the odd spider and curious cat.

Granddad and Nana in the back yard circa 1940
But in the middle of the night, especially in deepest winter, like the rest of the people in the street the alternative to the outside lavvy was the chamber pot.

It resided under the bed at night and was emptied as one of the early morning tasks.

Mine in Hope Street was made of porcelain and when I was very young was something I was expected to sit on, which was fine if you got your balance just right.

And in the dead of night was always cold to the touch.

Of course, chamber pots still exist even in the most up to date houses and are the main stay of those childhood steps from nappy to lavatory, and in different guises, shapes and materials can be found in hospitals and nursing homes.

But the idea that under your bed would be a “portable toilet”  to avoid the trip to the yard  is not something our children ever experienced.

On the odd occasion that the topic has come up I am met with a mix of disgust, and incomprehension.

But that is what comes of having been born in the first half of the last century.

 Happily my childhood chamber pot has long since gone, but back in 2009 in the company of my old friend Joe Callaghan we came across a much battered and corroded enamelled metal one lifted from the archaeological dig in Miller Street.  

To the bafflement of the archaeologists, I made a bid for it along with a brick from the excavation.

Joe, two archaeologists and the Miller Street Dig, 2009
The houses dated from the late 18th century, but I have no idea how old my pot was.

Suffice to say the team bad me and Joe a fond farewell as we made our way towards the cathedral each now in possession of a hand made 18th century brick, wrapped in plastic bags pondering on the story we would give to the police if stopped.

I have never asked Joe what he did with his brick, and mine is still somewhere in the cellar.

Alas the tin potty was eventually discarded, and all I have is a slightly out of focus picture.

Still it's a link with my past.

Location, My childhood, Hope Street, Derby and Miller Street, Manchester

Pictures, my chamber pot, date unknown, Granddad and Nana in the back yard of Hope Street, circa 1940and Joe, two archaeologists and the Miller Street Dig, 2009, from the collection of Andrew Simpson

*Chamber Pots https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chamber_pot

** A planned archaeological dig in Hulme and two retired teachers, https://chorltonhistory.blogspot.com/2012/01/planned-archaeological-dig-in-hulme-and.html


The milk crate ….. the Lambeth saw mill ……and a bottle of sterilized milk from Chorlton-cum-Hardy

Now you will have to be of a certain age to remember and perhaps drunk sterilized milk.

Sterilized milk, date unknown
It was and remained the favoured choice of Dad, and despite trying it a few times I could never say I liked it.  And so, it ranked with Camp Coffee which always intrigued me, but was always a disappointment.

But Dad was born in 1908 and grew up in Gateshead at a time when the quality and safety of milk was still an issue, and sterilized milk delivered a certainty that what you drank was safe.

There were plenty of small dairies and creameries in the heart of all our big towns and cities supplied by cows which lived beside the business.

In 1911 there were 462 dairymen listed in the city of Manchester.  Some were very small concerns while others like Burgess of Gartside Street between New Quay Street and Bridge Street spread over four properties with another branch in Hampson Street Salford

Pure milk from Harold Morris, in Eltham, circa 1920s 
The development of railways made it possible to bring milk in from the surrounding countryside and so while the dairies remained the city cows vanished from the scene.

But there were many at the beginning of the 20th century who felt unease at the milk we drank.

In 1907 one correspondent to the Manchester Guardian had asked that simple question “Can the present system of milk supply be improved?”

It was an issue of public safety for what was wanted “is milk which is clean and free from pathogenic germs and which is rich in fat.”

But given the often poor level of scrutiny on the farm and during transportation there was no guarantee of its purity for “milk is a mysterious fluid which tells no tales of its manipulation.”  

Moreover it was also at the mercy of “crowds of filthy shops in which milk is exposed side by side with firewood and candles.”

At every stage there was the danger of contamination.

“The difficulty on the farm is to secure cleanliness in the milker, the atmosphere, the cooling plant and the churn.  The difficulty in the town dairy is largely in the dust laden atmosphere, which alone shows the need of bottling.  The difficulties in the home are dirty jugs and other vessels in which the milk is exposed until it is required.”

And so not for the first time there had been a call for the involvement of the municipal authorities in the production, supply and provision of milk.

Sterilized milk in Chorlton, 1959
This was after all a period when in the interests of public health local government was getting more and more involved in everything from transport and education to housing, sanitation along with clean drinking water, gas and electric supplies.

All of which is a rambling introduction to a wooden milk crate, sterilized milk and a delivery lorry from the Cheshire Milk Company trundling through Chorlton-cum-Hardy in the April of 1959.

The picture is a familiar one and was reposted from the City archive recently, and its reappearance prompted my old “posty” friend David Harrop to send over photographs of two wooden milk crates.

I do remember them along with those used to transport pop and beer bottles, and looking carefully at the Chorlton picture it does look like the crates were of wood.

Yonder Hill Saw Mills, date unknown

What drew me further into the story was that the crates were made at the Yoland Hill Saw Mills in Lambeth, which is not so far away from where I was born and spent my early years.

A search for the business has revealed only pictures, but I am convinced that in the fulness of time I will find out more.

Yonder Hill Saw Mills, 1966
As it is this is the closest I have come which is courtesy of the London Borough of Lambeth, Lambeth Archives and was kindly shared by their archivist, Zoe Darani.**

It was still there when I was living in Peckham, but has now gone.  

The notes accompanying the image record that “The Yonder Hills Sawmills at 64 Wandsworth Road, South Lambeth, Vauxhall. 

The site became a Sainsbury's supermarket, before an extensive residential redevelopment c.2015-17. From the former British Railways Board, dated 31st March 1966”.

The present Sainsbury’s replaced a more modest store which had been built sometime before 2008, and was swept away in 2014 for the huge new development which occupies the site.

All of which may seem a long way from a bottle of sterilized milk but not so.  I was surprised to see that you can still get the stuff but have never made the effort to see if it tastes the same.

Today it comes in a standard looking bottle or carton, and not like the long thin bottles I remember with the metal tops.

I wonder if it still looks that vey dark cream colour.

An ordinary milk bottle, circa 1930s
David has promised to share his “steri” bottles with me which I think will be another story, but for now that is it, other than to say I have written about the story of milk several times, of which  "Memories of when the milk arrived by horse, of dye cast toys and much more" is but one,* and found an old ordinary milk bottle from the 1930s.

Location, Lambeth, Chorlton-cum-Hardy, Cheshire

Pictures; Harold Morris delivering milk in Eltham, circa, 1920s, from the collection of Jean Gammons, wooden milk crates, date unknown from the collection of David Harrop, The Yonder Hills Sawmills at 64 Wandsworth Road, South Lambeth, 1966, reference 13971, identifier 2001/1/F5026, by kind permission of London Borough of Lambeth, Lambeth Archives, https://boroughphotos.org/lambeth/yonder-hills-sawmills-wandsworth-rd-south-lambeth/ and milk delivery lorry in Chorlton, 1959, A.H. Downes, m17478, courtesy of Manchester Libraries, Information and Archives, Manchester City Council, http://images.manchester.gov.uk/index.php?session=pass and milk bottle from the collection of Ann Love , circa 1930s

*James Long, Municipal Milk, Manchester Guardian, November 20th, 1907

** Memories of when the milk arrived by horse, of dye cast toys and much more, https://chorltonhistory.blogspot.com/2013/05/memories-of-when-milk-arrived-by-horse.html