A night flight ... the ferry ... and heaps of Greek sun

 I was too young to have gone island hopping  across Greece in the 1960s and a decade later too busy earning a living and making a career.

Ten minutes out of the Pireaus,1981

So it wasn't till 1981 that l did the thing usually reserved for 18 year olds short on money and big on adventures.

By then l was 32, with a bank balance but doing Greece on the cheap still appealed.

Arriving, 1981

It started with one of those midnight flights to Athens and a few hours to kill at the airport before heading to the Pireaus, finding the right ferry and leaving with hundreds of others east for a succession of islands.

Always find the shade, 1981

The trick was to avoid the open deck and go for a seat under canvas. The foolhardy who missed the shade suffered under the relentless sun as one after another island hoved into view and disappeared to be replaced by yet another.

The beach, 2008

The reward of course was the final destination, a week in the sun with cheap booze and amazing food.

Friends still chanced sleeping on the beach but we preferred a bed. Not that the holiday apartments were anything to write home about.

A room, a bed and a basic shower. The rooms were usually over a taverna which solved breakfast and the beach a few minutes walk away.

And that was all you needed.

The apartment above the shop, 1981

The return was much the same with the prospect of hanging around at the airport for another grim flight.

Only improved one year by a late meal in an unpretentious restaurant at the foot of the Acropolis drinking retsina from old glass jars which once held orange juice.

Crossing the island, 2010

Today we fly direct and check the rating of the accommodation and customer comments, book a car to  cross the island, and wonder what it would be like to travel again on those old green and cream buses.

Location; Greece

Pictures; across Greece, 1981-2010, from the collection of Andrew Simpson

Memories of that other Thames ……

 I don’t know if cargo ships still berth along my bit of the River at Greenwich.

But someone will know, and I hope will tell me.

I left London in 1969 and while I still came home for holidays my visits to this bit of where I grew up became less and less.

But back in the late 1970s I did wander the water with a camera and recorded what I saw.

To some they will be dismal, and grimy but they were my part of London.

What strikes me about the berthed ship is how deep the inside compared to the men.

It’s a silly observation given that the hold had to store heaps of things, but it reminds me of just how different the Thames at Greenwich was five decades ago.

The image is one that sat as a collection of negatives in our cellar for 40 odd years, and only recently has come out of the shadows as I digitalize those pictures.

And Peter from Greenwich added "Good evening Andrew, I always enjoy your pictures of the grimy industrial part of my hometown. 

The coaster on the mud at Lovells was one of the first of a type designed with elevating wheelhouses and masts ets to work upstream on the Rhine and other European rivers. The depth of the hold would have probably been around 4 metres".

Location; The River Thames

Pictures; waiting to load, the Thames, 1979, from the collection of Andrew Simpson

  

The pungent aroma of Brylcreem and Old Spice …. defining an era

My Brylcreem days were limited.  

They lasted for just a few years when mother insisted on using the stuff and then adding a hair grip to keep the quiff in place.

I rebelled early and never went back although dad would regularly brush his hair through with a dab even on days when he stayed indoors.

But Old Spice was different, I used the aftershave, the deodorant and the talc from those distinctive shaped white and red jars.

On reflection I must have cut a powerful presence when meeting Pamela, Jennie or Ann on a Saturday night outside the Eltham ABC on the High Street.

But then my aroma would mix with their perfume and blend into a romantic haze.

Leaving for Manchester and college coincided with growing my hair, and the application of Old Spice became redundant.

I had all but forgotten that ritual of adding the stuff, but it all came flooding back the other day when on a warm summer’s evening I passed the man resplendent in his “going our clothes” accompanied by a cloud of male deodorant.

And in turn that took me back to a moment in the early 1990s when I visited a house full of bedsits each inhabited by a student and each with a different male deodorant which collectively hung in the air making a mis mash of smells.

Judging by the supermarket shelves “smellies” remain as popular, but I think not hair oil.  My generation long ago forsook it, if we really adopted it and nor do my kids, although occasionally one of them will use a gel.

It may be the end of an era, but at least it means the head rests on our armchairs are free from the grease stains which meant the addition of an embroidered cloth covering or even plastic head rest.

Of course I may have got it all wrong and out there countless heads will still have their Brylcreem addition.

We shall see.

Pictures; Advert for Brylcream and Nutriline, 1949, from the collection of Andrew Simpson, and 1944 advertisement for the Old Spice Shaving Soap in a pottery mug, Old Spice After-Shaving Lotion, Old Spice Talcum, Old Spice Brushless Shaving Cream, and Old Spice Bath Soap, April 1944, The Saturday Evening Post, 1944, April 1, page 95, Author Shulton, Inc.

“the green fields of one summer are the roads and avenues of the next.”

This picture of Oswald Road perfectly sums up what we had become by the early decades of the 20th century.  

For most of the early and mid 19^th century we had been a small rural community growing food for the markets of Manchester.

But with the coming of mains water, a gas supply and later a railway station we were quickly transformed in to a suburb of the city.

It was as the Manchester Evening News commented in the September of 1901 so swift a development that “the green fields of one summer are the roads and avenues of the next.”

And something of just how quickly the roads and avenues appeared can be got from the street directories for the early 20^th century.  These were not unlike our telephone directories in that they listed the householder in each road, street and avenue, with the added bonus that they often give the occupation.

And as I write I am looking at the directories for the three years of 1901, 09 and 11 and have chosen that collection of roads around Oswald Road.  Here is a remarkable story of piecemeal building as speculative builders vied with each other to build anything from a single house, to a semi up to a terrace. 

The development is patchy and is partly conditioned by changing land use.  So on the corner of Oswald and Longford Roads, what was once open ground, became a skating rink and later a row of eight semi detached houses built I guess sometime after 1916 and more likely in the years after the Great War.

In some ways these first inhabitants must have felt a little like pioneers, with views across the fields towards Turn Moss uninterrupted by other houses. Well, until the brick works arrived but that is another story.

The fun thing to do is to go and look for yourself.  Armed with copies of the1893 and 1907 OS maps and with just a little knowledge of building styles it is possible to distinguish the large Victorian piles from the Edwardian semis and terraces and the speculative in fill of later decades.

But it occurs to me that in all the stories of the new rows of houses, and the reasons for the rapid development of Chorlton at no time have I presented that population increase and so here it is.

Pictures; Oswald Road from the Lloyd collection, detail of 1907 OS map and the changes in population from 1841-1911.

At the bus stop in Piccadilly in 1961

It is 5 pm on a sunny afternoon in 1961 and the rush hour is in full swing.

And if you lived in great chunks of Manchester it would be the bus which would be taking you home.

Now it would be a full eight years before I washed up in the city but W.Higham’s picture perfectly captures the bus station I remember.

It is of course a scene that has vanished.  The old glass and steel shelters went a long time ago and the building behind on Portland Street was another of those that I remember but its demolition passed me by.

Behind the bus shelter and the line of commuters the sunken gardens fare better, lasting into this century before they too succumbed to change which I still have doubts about.

Every time I gaze on that great concrete slab I wonder if a more sympathetic device could have been created to screen the busy transport hub from the open spaces of the new gardens. And whether the gardens could just have been tidied up and left as they were rather than creating that wet windswept expanse of tired grass and water feature.

All of which I know opens me up to the criticism that I am wallowing in nostalgia but not so.  The gardens were a pleasant place offering a degree of peace in the heart of the city and a welcome lunchtime break.*

And by extension for those who wanted to miss the rush hour torture they were a pretty good place to sit it out till the buses were half empty.

And that couple of hours between the day time people leaving and the night crowd coming in is still a magical time.

The city seemed to get a wee bit quieter and a little calmer, but you knew it was just a lull before the business of fun took over from that workaday atmosphere.

The gardens were a particularly good place to observe it as were the city centre pubs.  Stay long enough in one of the pubs and you could watch as tired office workers and shop assistants slid away after a few drinks having discussed their day and were replaced by a more energetic and optimistic crowd whose enthusiasm for the night ahead grew as the rounds were bought.

So I still wonder at how many of those at that bus stop waiting in the late afternoon sunshine decided that tea in Chorlton and an evening with Coronation Street, Dick Emery and the Avengers might be less attractive than the call of a few drinks and a film at the Odeon.

*http://chorltonhistory.blogspot.co.uk/2012/05/distant-memories-of-manchester-parks.html

Picture; Piccadilly Bus Station at 5pm, W. Higham, 1961, m56932, courtesy of Manchester Libraries, Information and Archives, Manchester City Council

The Chorlton farthing, halfpenny and penny from Reynard Road …. bringing luck to the house

Now, there will be someone who can offer up a full and detailed explanation for the practice of putting coins in or around the entrance to a house.

I am guessing it will be a pre Christian practice.  

One suggestion I read referred back to “Italian folklore probably - it's so that money will flow freely into the home and that the people inside prosper”, and another reminded me that coins were placed at the foot of masts in sailing ships.

My grandparents found a coin dating from King George III under the stone step in their two up two down on Hope Street in Derby, which dated the row of terraced houses .

And Jaime who lives on Reynard Road sent over these coins adding, “Good morning Andrew, I thought I’d share another interesting thing about our house. 

We are having some work done and my builder found some old coins in the old door frame.  There’s a 1927 penny, 1939 farthing, 1942+1943 half pennies. 

They were in the old back door frame. I think at a later date a small extension was added”.

The houses date from the early 20th century, and so as Jaime says the extension will have been added later sometime after 1943, but I suspect not long afterwards, but maybe after the war.

In 1939, a Mr. Sydney Mckew who was a long distance lorry driver shared the house with Ada Faulkner and George Hayes, which for the time being is s close a we are going to get to those coins and the little back extension.  

Ada was twelve years older than Sydney and described her occupation as “Unpaid domestic duties”, while George was 29 and was “Milk Roundsman”.

In time we may find out more about the three and push forward the time when they lived in the house to when the coins were deposited.

But for now that is pretty much it, other than to reflect that there will be many like me who not only remember all of the coins Jaime sent over but will have used them until they became history with the move to decimal coinage.

Although I have come across and written about other odd objects found in houses, including the Salford shoe, and the 1910 cheese sandwich.

Location; Chorlton

Pictures; “Four coins from a doorway", 2021, from the collection of Jaime Cockcroft-Bailey

Home Thoughts of Woolwich ....... no. 1 ….. the badge

Sometimes it is as simple as a badge, which after 40 years brings back a bit of history.

Having left Well Hall in 1969 for Manchester, I only visited the Tramshed on brief visits home, but it was a popular place for our Elizabeth.

Location; Woolwich

Picture; the badge, circa 1970s, from the collection of Andrew Simpson

Knott Mill in 1963

I wish I had known Knott Mill in the 1960s.

As it was it would be a full decade later that I wandered down there.

Of course my excuse was that as a student and later working in Wythenshawe this end of Deansgate was a bit off the beaten track.

So to redress that simple omission here is a litho print made by my friend Ann Love in 1963.

Back then she was still at Manchester College of Art, studying Book Illustration and wandering the city for subject matter.

I am rather pleased that she did and moreover that she recorded this bit of Knott Mill.

Picture; litho print of Knott Mill, 1963 courtesy of Ann Love.

It’s the history …. not the quality

I am on Camp Street looking across the Rochdale Canal.

The quality of the images is not wonderful but then they were taken with a cheap camera in 1978, and the negatives have sat in the cellar for 40 odd years.

The original prints were lost a long time ago, but today I digitized those negatives, and they reveal a bit of Manchester now vanished.

Back then the area was waiting for something to happen, so while the Courts were just up the road doing the business of dealing with lawbreakers, and the College of Commerce was still introducing students to the wonders of accountancy, the law, and even a mix of Arts degrees Camp Street was a pretty forlorn spot.

For three years at the start of the 1970s I had wandered down it, exploring this part of the city instead of going to the library in the Aytoun College of Knowledge.

Back then there was an old-fashioned transport café, and those line of parking meters, while the skyline was dominated by buildings most of which have long gone or been turned into other uses.

And that really is that.

Location; Canal Street

Pictures; the Rochdale Canal, 1979 from the collection of Andrew Simpson

Lost in the attic .............. a new collection of photographs of Chorlton........ nu 1 Whitelow Road

This is Whitelow Road sometime in the early 20th century and with the picture comes one of those intriguing little stories.

It is one of a collection of images which were donated to St Clements Church and were found in the attic of a house.

And that is about all I know of the history of the twenty or so photographs of Chorlton.

All except one date from sometime after 1900 and measure 25.5 cms by 42 cms and have been reproduced from picture postcards.

I would love to know who went to all the trouble of first collecting and then enlarging the images and later storing them away.

Now there will be a story there but I doubt it will ever come to light.

So instead I shall concentrate on this one which shows a gang of labourers at work.

I don’t have a date but the company whose name plate appears on the steam engines was Davies Brothers, Asphalt Road Makers who were listed in the 1911 directory with an office on Princess Street and a depot on Green Lane.

Green Lane ran from Brook Street to the Garratt Bridge by the River Medlock in Chorlton on Medlock and long ago was swept away by new developments which included the old BBC Broadcasting building.

What makes the picture interesting is that it is one I have never seen before and comes with a companion photograph which also shows Whitelow Road with the same team of workmen.

Both contain a wealth of detail from the steam engines, barrels of tar to the wooden sets and the large number of labourers.

This was after all at a time when much of the work still relied on muscle power and so despite the steam engines it was still down to shovels, wheelbarrows and a lot of effort.

But the pictures also include that small band of spectators who have been drawn to the scene.

Like the workman they stare back at the camera with that mix of poses, some stopped in their tracks, a few looking curious and the rest those who just can’t miss the opportunity to be in the picture.

And of these the one I am drawn to is the chap in uniform pausing with his parcels to be caught on camera.

Now I am sure there will be someone who can help explains the use of the long wooden beam across the road and others who will want to speculate exactly where along Whitelow Road the pictures were taken from so I shall close by reflecting on how many more pictures of old Chorlton are sitting in attics across the township.

Pictures; Whitelow Road date unknown, from the Simpson Collection

Looking into Barton Street …………. 40 years ago

This is one of those pictures I usually just pass over, but today it deserves to come out into the light.

I was on St Ann’s Street, looking into Barton Street.

There, in the distance is the dome of the Barton Arcade, and the twisty nature of Barton Street is clear to see.

But the corner building to the left and the low rise one just beyond have been replaced and that has changed ever so slightly the configuration of this side street, which has also lost the interesting businesses on the right.

Pictures; Looking into Barton Street, circa 1978, from the collection of Andrew Simpson

Photographs from the Royal Herbert during the Great War ............ a unique album of pictures

The Royal Herbert, date unknown

Now the story of the Royal Herbert has just got a lot more exciting and that has a lot to do with a fascinating photograph album from the Great War.

It belongs to my old friend David Harrop who has a unique collection of memorabilia covering both world wars as well as the history of the Post Office.

And today I am looking through it with the hope that some at least of the men and the nurses in the pictures can be traced and their stories uncovered.

Christmas Day, 1915

In time I might even be able to discover the nurse responsible for the album.

A few of the nurses are named and tantalizingly two pictures are captioned “myself” so the search is on which may be made easier as the Red Cross continues to add to its online data base of those who served during the Great War.

And then there are the large number of photographs of soldiers in their “hospital blues” recovering on the wards, a few party scenes and handful from soldiers who had recovered and left the hospital.

Summer, 1916

Together they help reveal a little bit of life in the Royal Herbert during 1915 and 1916.

Given the quality of the cameras and the age of the pictures some images have not fared so well but even the poorest have a story to tell.

One of my favourites is of Sister Thomson and a group of men on a ward on Christmas Day in 1915 along with a much faded image of the garden in the summer of 1916.

Now these albums were quite common but I suspect not that many have survived.

Album cover

David has two more which contain comments, poems and drawings of men recovering from wounds and illnesses.

One remains a mystery but the other comes from a Red Cross Hospital in Cheltenham and it has been possible to track  some of the men who made a contribution.

Their stories are as varied as I am sure will be the ones from the Herbert and include a young Canadian who survived the war and went home to live a successful and productive life and another who is buried in the military hospital outside Cairo.

And like all good stories led my friend Susan who lives in Canada to tell the story of that young Canadian and in so doing brought his drawing and his words  off the pages of the Cheltenham book and back from the past.

Now that I have to say was both exciting and moving.

The Royal Herbert album is different in that it only has photographs but in looking through it I have made a link with a hospital I knew well and which at one point in the 1970s treated our mother.

All of which makes it that bit special.

David's permanent exhibition can be seen in the Remembrance Lodge in Southern Cemetery, Manchester and currently features a collection of material commemorating the Manchester Blitz.

Pictures; from the Royal Hebert collection, 1915-16 courtesy of David Harrop

*Blighty, http://chorltonhistory.blogspot.co.uk/search/label/Blighty

That iconic viaduct at Stockport ………

The railway viaduct over the Mersey at Stockport is an impressive structure and despite travelling over it and under it for over 56 years I never tire of looking at it.

That viaduct in 1979

My Wikipedia tells me that the “Stockport Viaduct carries the West Coast Main Line across the valley of the River Mersey in Stockport …. It is one of the largest brick structures in the United Kingdom and a major structure of the early railway age. It is immediately north of Stockport railway station.

That viaduct, 2023

The viaduct was designed by George Watson Buck in consultation with the architect John Lowe for the Manchester and Birmingham Railway. 

Work began in March 1839 and despite its scale and flooding from the Mersey, the viaduct was completed in December 1840 and services commenced the same month. 

Roughly 11 million bricks were used in its construction; at the time of its completion, it was the world's largest viaduct and a major feat of engineering. 

The viaduct is 33.85 metres (111.1 ft) high.

Since March 1975, Stockport Viaduct has been a Grade II* listed structure ; it remains one of the world's biggest brick structures”.*

2021

I first travelled over it in September 1969 when I came to Manchester as a student.

It would be a full decade later that I took my first pictures of the viaduct, and I have been drawn back heaps of times.

Of course for any one from Greater Manchester this great sweep of brick will be very familiar but given that the blog is read on every continent save the one where the penguins live, I think it’s fair to show it off.

1979

Stockport Railway Station, 1979

And for those who are curious ..... if you travel across it from Manchester and after crossing the valley the train pulls into Stockport Railway Station, which is just as  it should be.

Location; Stockport

Pictures; the Viaduct, 1979, 2021,&  from the collection of Andrew Simpson, and Andy Robertson, 2021

*Stockport Viaduct, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Stockport_Viaduct

Just how exotic could Manchester be? ………. memories of 1971

Now you have to be of a certain age to remember the Ceylon Tea Centre, or its equally enticing rival the Danish Food Centre.

An exotic market place, 1957

Back in the early 1970s they were a revelation to me, who until then had really only known Lyons Corner Houses, Wimpey Bars, greasy cafes and the odd forays for a business meal in the Chinese and Asian restaurants around town.

The Tea Centre was a commercial showcase for Ceylon’s products, and it was there that I first discovered a salad could be more than a soft tomato, some limp lettuce and a bit of curly cucumber smothered in salad cream.

Here were rice dishes, some of which were curried and others which contained fruit, nuts and other exotic things.

I remember the one in Regent Street in London but given that I was a student in Manchester it was the one on St Peter’s Square in Elizabeth House which we went to.

Although we did also do the Danish Food Centre on Cross Street, which had opened to a blaze of publicity on November 19th, 1965.

The Guardian ran the story over a full page, reporting that “the Danish Prime Minister with his wife, the Danish actress Helle Virkner, will attend the opening of the new Danish Food Centre in Cross Street tomorrow”, attended also by “the Lady Mayoress of Manchester, who enters as the first Mancunian housewife  to do so”.*

Ceylon Tea Centre logo, date unknown

There were also a host of other invited guests including “representatives of the Danish agricultural organizations, representatives of the grocery and provision trades of Manchester and district and representatives of women’s organizations and other local associations and institutions”.

The Guardian article did the Centre proud commenting on the décor the air conditioning and reflecting that here was a “little bit of Denmark” which was an “ideal place for a coffee and Danwich – the open Danish sandwich”.

Like the Ceylon Tea Centre, it also sold “quantities of Danish foods, [which] can be bought for an office lunch or a party with a difference at home”.”

Looking back now at a city full of restaurants offering up food from around the world, these two food centres seem quite tame.

Elisabeth House, home to the Tea Centre, 1988

But at the time they were both exciting and innovative, because while you could eat at the Armenian on Fountain Street, the Bella Napoli on Kennedy Street and a host of more expensive and down market eating places, these two were open all day into the evening and were relaxed and easy going.

From memory the Ceylon Tea Centre had a self-service as well as a waitress area and each featured those classic large wall mounted photographs of tea plantations and coastal landscapes.

Together they are part of the changing food culture in a city which just a decade earlier was more likely to have offered up visits to a Wimpey Bar, The UCP outlets, or faded tea rooms which competed with coffee bars and transport cafes.

Location; the 1970s

Pictures; the market, 1957 from Looking at Other Children, 1959**Ceylon Tea Centre, logo***, and Elisabeth House, 1988,m04395, courtesy of Manchester Libraries, Information and Archives, Manchester City Council, http://images.manchester.gov.uk/index.php?session=pass


*Danish Food Centre opens in Manchester Denmark comes to Cross Street, the Guardian, November 18th, 1965

**Looking at Other Children, Jean and David Gadsby, 1957

*** Vernon Corea’s visits to the Ceylon Tea Centre at 22 Lower Regent Street London, https://vernoncorea.wordpress.com/tag/ceylon-tea-centre-lower-regent-street-london/

The lost Chorlton Bowling Green ..... Joseph Miller and the Lloyd Terrace ........Whitelow Road gives up its secrets ……….

It was a chance conversation outside the Horse Jockey.

Lloyd Street, 1854 marked in red

I was talking about the history of the pub when l was drawn into a conversation about Whitelow Road.

To be exact the question ran What do l know about Whitelow Road?

The short answer was not a lot other than part of it was once called Lloyd Street.*

This was in 1854 and instantly challenges that tired and well rehersed observation that "there are no streets in Chorlton".

Now, Lloyd owned a big chunk of Chorlton cum Hardy having bought into the township in the 18th century.

Back then Lloyd Street was a far more modest stretch terminating just beyond the Beech Inn where it ran into the 2 acre field called Row Acre which was owned by the Lloyd estate and farmed by Mary White.  In total she rented 77 acres stretched out across Chorlton and she lived at the southern end of Chorlton Green.

Whitelow Road, 2022

So back to the question because my new friend lives in one of the houses directly opposite the Beech and to stamp a bit more authenticity into the story high up in the wall is one of those stone inscription which usually offers up the name of the terrace and sometimes even a date.

Alas there is no date but the name Lloyd Terrace which is a nice connection to Mr. Lloyd.

In1891 my friend's house was occupied by a Joseph Miller who was 23 married to Emma and shared the house with three children, two brothers and a lodger.  

He was from Didsbury, she was from West Gorton and their eldest son, aged 5 had been born in Cheadle.  Within the year after he was born they moved to Chorlton and took up residence in the property by 1889.

Lloyd Terrace, 2022

Mr. Miller gave his as “coach man and domestic groom”  as were his brothers and the lodger.  At which point it is easy to speculate on who they worked for and whether all were employed by the same family. 

What is striking is the variety of birth places.  Along with Didsbury, West Gorton, and Cheadle, we can add three different parts of Shropshire as well as Chorlton.

I haven’t as yet got a date for when the terrace was built but a Frederick Fuller occupied another one of the houses in 1886 and by 1893 Whitelow Road extended all the  way to Wilbraham Road and all the buildings we now know and a few more had all been constructed.

So that just leaves a search of the rate books to push back to the moment when our terrace was built.  

All the evidence would suggest a date after 1881, when the land upon which the terraced is situated is shown up as Bowling Green.  

This must be the lost Bowling Green which had been connected to the Horse and Jockey where according to the historian Thomas Ellwood was “a number of gentlemen used to play bowls on the green then adjoining the Horse and Jockey.  For exclusive use of the green was reserved one afternoon in each week, in return for a small annual subscription, and the players generally partook of tea afterwards, and spent the evening together over a friendly game of cards."***

The lost bowling green 1881

In the 1840s the plot was owned by John Brundrett who rented it out to Thomas Cookson.

It was two acres in size which is roughly the same as the Rec on Beech Road. to and listed as "Garden"

The gentleman later decamped to Edge Lane where they formed a much grander club which limped on till 1950.

This may have precipitated the bowling green's change of use into residential because by 1885  Frederick Fuller was renting from the Brundrett estate in Lloyd Terrace.

As for those with a wider interest in Whitelow Road, it would appear that the stretch from High Lane had also not been cut by 1881, instead much of it is marked as a wooded area held by the Methodists.

So, from being a mystery road, Whitelow has started to give up its secrets.

Picture; map showing Lloyd Street from the OS map of Lancashire 1841-53, courtesy of Digital Archives,  http://www.digitalarchives.co.uk/ Whitelow Road, 2022, courtesy of Google Mapsthe  map of Chorlton-cum-Hardy, Withington Health Board, 1881, courtesy of Trafford Local Studies

* It was still Lloyd Street in 1871

**Ellwood, Thomas Bowling Greens, History of Chorlton-cum-Hardy, number 26, South Manchester Gazette, May 15, 1886

Walking the River ......... by the Cutty Sark

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 their way on the water.*

Location; the Thames

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

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

Lost stories from Chorlton’s graveyard ………

 I am looking at a picture of our own parish graveyard sometime in the late 1970s and it records a scene which has long gone.

When the gravestones were numerous. 1979

Many of the gravestones would be removed during the make over which turned a neglected and forlorn spot into a pleasant recreational area.

In total there had once been 361 monuments to those who had been buried in the graveyard, but only a few survived the rest are lost to us.

And that of course is a terrible loss, both for the descendants of those who were interred here and also to the historian wanting to uncover Chorlton’s past.

Because here had been buried the people of plenty, along with the less wealthy, ranging from farmers, tradesmen to the families of farm labourers.

The Stopford family, 1979

The earliest recorded burials date from the mid-1700s with the possibility there may have been some from the previous century.

We do have the parish burial records along with an inventory made in 1975 of the 361 gravestones, but that will never be the same as standing in front of them and reading not just the names but also the messages that were left.

The Isherwood family, 1979

Like that of William Barlow Stopford who “fell asleep in Jesus” aged just 23, who was buried with his father who was 31 when he died and William’s brother Frank who died on November 14th just 19 months old. 

Sadly, their gravestone is one of the missing ones, along with that of the Isherwood family, whose gravestone records the names of six, two of whom died at 8 and 14 months.

In time I will go looking for their stories but for now all I have are pictures of their gravestones and the locations of where the two sat.  The Stopford’s rested just east of the lych gate and was the first you would encounter on entering the graveyard while the Isherwood plot was one of six graves that rested against the south wall of the church.

I wish I had taken more on what must have been a spring day in 1979, but soe far I have only turned up the two images amongst the 1500 or negatives which I am slowly digitalizing.

There may be more but at present that is it.

Location; the parish graveyard

Pictures; lost scenes from our parish graveyard, 1979, from the collection of Andrew Simpson

Light the Darkness ............ today from 4pm ...... Holocaust Memorial Day

 Each year people from across the UK take part in a national moment for Holocaust Memorial Day.

Imperial War Museum North,  lights the darkness for HMD

At 4pm on 27 January people across the nation will light candles and put them safely in their windows to:

remember those who were murdered for who they were

stand against prejudice and hatred today

Salford Quays Millenium Footbridge, lights the darkness for HMD

Iconic buildings and landmarks will light up in purple during this powerful national moment of commemoration and solidarity.

Follow the link for details.

Light the https://hmd.org.uk/take-part-in-holocaust-memorial-day/

Picture; Imperial War Museum North,ights the darkness for HMD, photo Credit Emma Phillipson,  Salford Quays Millenium Footbridge, lights the darkness for HMD, photo Credit Emma Phillipson