Just 47 years ago in the village churchyard

Our parish churchyard in the April of 1978

It is just 47 years since this picture of our old parish church yard was taken.

And yet it is so far from the knowledge or experience of many in Chorlton that it might as well have been taken in 1878 rather than 1978.

And it is one of those odd things that despite having frequently walked past the crowded jumble of grave stones I have no recollection of the place looking like this.

Nor of the attack on the gravestone of Police Constable Cock who was murdered on August 1st 1876.  According to the local newspaper* “ the small headstone on the already battered, iron-railed grave in the old St Clements’s churchyard near Chorlton village green has been torn from its retaining screws by vandals or thieves attracted by the historic tablet.”

P.C.Cock's headstone, Preston, 1980

The original six foot high headstone which included the old Lancashire Constabulary crest was moved to Preston in 1956.

Now the murder is fairly well known and still crops up from time to time in stories of Chorlton.

At the time the understandable wish to get a quick conviction led to the arrest of William Hebron who was found guilty in the December but the death sentence was commuted to life imprisonment.

Which was all to the good given that just over two years later Charles Pearce who had a history of petty theft confessed to the murder of the policeman.

Looking back at the picture I continue to be surprised at the state of the place.  Leaving aside the vandalised graves you have to admit that it’s more than a little neglected.

Some of the headstones have been lift to tilt and those on the ground are uneven.

This is all the more shocking when back in 1847 an official inspection reported that the church and the graveyard along with the headstones were well kept and the grass mown regularly.

But this had been when there was still a church here and when people made their way down from the north entrance to worship in a church which dated back 149 years.

It had been built in 1800 on the site of an earlier chapel, survived the opening of a rival church on the corner of St Clements and Edge Lane and only closed in 1941 when frost damage made it almost impossible to hold services there.

Overturned headstone, April 1978

After that it lasted just another eight years succumbing to persistent attacks by vandals and was eventually demolished.

Not long after our picture was taken Angus Bateman and a team of people undertook two archaeological digs of the site and a little later the area was landscaped.

Now I remain ambivalent about that.  Certainly something needed to be done, and it is now a nice place to sit, but many of the gravestones were taken away and lost and the few that remain were not all returned to their original resting place.

And so the memorial stone to P.C.Cock is now situated close to the lytch gate which is some distance from where he was buried.

Does it matter?  Well yes I think it does.  Not only are the surviving headstones in the wrong places but the actual records of so many of the people who were born worked and died in the township are lost forever.

Their names and the often poignant inscriptions are no longer there to read and so it is almost as if they never were.

Looking north in 1978

Now I am not religious but I do think such memorials are important.  As historian I know they are, as indeed they are for anyone who has links with Chorlton.

And to underline that thought recently I met a descendant of the Reverend Booth who presided over services in the parish church for thirty-three years.  She was thrilled that his headstone had survived and paid for its restoration.  To her it was a very tangible link to her past family.

Nor is that quite the end.  For the gentleman in the picture is Mr Fred Casson who was verger of the church from 1930 till it closed in 1941.

He knew the church when it was still a lively and important part of the community and reflected on the struggle to maintain graveyard.  “Manchester City Council now look after the graveyard. They do a lot of repair work but every time workmen finish one job vandals smash something else.  It’s a losing battle.”

Looking north in 2009

Today by and large the place is vandal free and it is pleasant place but I rather think I would like it as it was, even if it meant coming down and helping make good from time to time.

And there I shall leave it.

Picture; from The Journal Thursday April 13, 1978, the Loyd collection and the collection of Andrew Simpson

*Vandals wreck memorial to famous murder, The Journal Thursday April 13, 1978

Taking the curve into Shude Hill ………….

Now I am a fan of our tram network, and I never tire of watching them move across the city at a stately pace, taking the curves and twists bequeathed by our old road network.

Taking the curve into Shude Hill, 2022

All of which says much for the skill of the Metro engineers who managed to plot routes using those roads some of which date back into the late 18th century.

And one of my favourite spots is Balloon Street where trams effortlessly take the bendy way up from Corporation Street crossing Dantzic Street before sliding into the Shude Hill stop.

Before the tram Balloon Street was just a cut through up from Victoria Station which I sometimes also used to visit the Co-op archives.

But now the route is closed to traffic and is exclusively given over to the trams which emerge from the canyon like street flanked by tall buildings with a bit of grace.

Location; Manchester

Picture; taking the curve into Shude Hill, 2022, from the collection of Andrew Simpson

That first cinema at the top of Eltham High Street

This is the Eltham Cinema and was on the corner of the High Street and Westmount Road.

Eltham Cinema, circa 1913

It was opened in 1913 and demolished in 1968 which means I must have seen it countless times on my way to school at Crown Woods but even now it does not register with me.

I can’t be sure but I am guessing it survived as a Picture House until the big plush cinemas further down the High Street, and in Well Hall offered a bigger and comfortable experience.

And until now that was about all I knew, but yesterday I came across The Kinematograph Year Book, Program, Diary and Directory 1914, which is packed with everything from a list of all the cinemas in 1914 with information about this new and exciting form of entertainment along with lots of adverts.

Advert

And from the book I now know that its proprietor was a Mr Robert Frederick Bean who was listed in 1913 at 4 Everest Road.  A few years earlier he was in Brockley describing himself as a manufacturer’s agent for lace.  He was 31, had been married for three years and had two children and employed a nurse and a housemaid.

I wish I knew more about them but that is about it although they do seem to have moved around a bit living in Lewisham as well as Brockley and Eltham.

In time we will learn more and perhaps also a bit more about the cinema which sadly had no listing for the number of people it could seat.

And Tricia had found out more, "it had 1 screen and seated 400  people. It was built in 1912 opened 1913 and closed 1937.

Pictures; Eltham Cinema, courtesy of Thisiseltham, and advert from The Kinematograph Year Book, 1914, page 43

*Thisiselatham, http://www.thisiseltham.co.uk/

On the High Street back watching the film of your choice

So Eltham has its own cinema again.

For any one who can remember the Well Hall Odeon, the ABC on the high Street and the Gaumont this will be good news.

There may even be those who remember the old Eltham Cinema Theatre which opened in 1913 and was demolished in 1968.

I say remember it but long before it was knocked down it had ceased showing films which just leaves us with the three of which the Odeon renamed the Coronet struggled on the longest, finally become empty in 2000.

Although I do think it provides the image of a closed cinema in that warning about the dangers of film piracy shown at the pictures.

Any way I look forward to how the consultation goes and the prospect that once again on the High Street you will be able to “sit back and enjoy a film.”

In the meantime here is a reminder of how things went during the back end of the 20th century.

This is the ABC which closed its doors in 1972 and was demolished soon after

It had stood on the corner of the High Street and Passey Place for half a century.

It was opened as the Palace Cinema in 1922, showed its first talkie in 1930* and for a few brief years from 1966 to 69 was where I went with first Pamela, then Jenny and finally Ann, but that is a story for another time.

Picture; the demolition of the ABC in the High Street courtesy of Chrissie Rose.


* ELTHAM IN OLD PHOTOGRAPHS, John Kennet, 1991

Back on Barlow Moor Road sometime after 1911

Now sometimes you do have to wonder about what makes a particular spot so likely to be photographed again and again.

Barlow Moor Road at that point where it crosses High Lane and Sandy Lane is just one place.  On one level you can understand why.

This was where the trams terminated, and where the tram office was, and a little later after this picture was taken would be where the new terminus was constructed.

It was one of our landmarks known for a great chunk of the 19th century as Lane End and for a while as Brundrett’s corner but that is a story for another time.  All of which meant it was a popular place for a rendezvous which would be agreed in advance given that this was a time before the mobile phone.

So being a popular place it was a natural choice for the travelling photographers to capture and make into a postcard scene.

Earlier in the month I included one that had been taken around 1911, A late day in summer on Barlow Moor Road sometime after 1911 

And today I turned up another possibly made at roughly the same time, and I rather think it speaks for itself, although I will just point out that litter is not something peculiar to today.

Picture; from the collection of Allan Brown

The mystery at Ivygreen ..........

Now I know I am on Ivygreen Road and the date will be around 1980 but exactly where almost defeats me.

So, hence the mystery.

My very first inclination was that I took the pictures at the top end, but that wouldn’t have given me that clear view across to the pumping station.

All of which means that we are at the Bowling Green end, and this is the site of Allan Court.

And that offers up a surprise because it means that the blocks of flats post date my arrival, although I have no recollection of them being built.

But the entrance in the photograph corresponds to what is now the drive into the car park so I am fairly certain where I was on that winter day in 1980.

Added to which other pictures in the batch include views of the rear of the parish churchyard and a shot up St Clements Road to the village green.

So it follows that I was at the bottom of Ivygreen.

At which point there may be those that mutter about a non story, but not so, because both images give a very clear idea of what the meadows once looked like, before the trees and bushes were planted and before they matured to make it impossible to see far away across to the river.

All that we now need, is for someone to describe what had been here on this bit of land beside the road.

I rather think it was a builder’s yard which may have belonged to Joe Scott, and at one time also used by the Walker Brothers who later moved into the barn at Higginbotham’s Farm.

Well we shall see

Location; Chorlton

Picture; Ivygreen Road, 1980, from the collection of Andrew Simpson

Goodbye to the ABC in the High Street .................. 1972

Now this picture postcard of the old ABC cinema in the High Street has a lot going for it.

For a start there is that simple observation that few of us send picture postcards today.

Mobile phones with cameras which can snap and send an image around the world in seconds have pretty much done for the old picture postcard.

Of course long before this technological whizz the postcard had its day.  The cost of postage and the demise of the frequent postal collection and delivery meant that bit by bit they were used less and less.

Unlike the start of the last century when if you wanted to arrange to meet in the afternoon or tell family you’d be home later that day the postcard was the thing.

And the early 70s I guess was the cross over point when the sale and use of the picture card was in decline.

Not that the Eltham Society thought so when they produced this one which was number 4 in a series on Eltham and may well have been chosen to mark the passing of this picture house which had opened its doors in the August of 1922 and closed half a century later.

I have fond memories of the place, it was after all a safer choice than the Odeon to take a girlfriend given that we lived just a few minute’s walk from the roundabout and you never wanted to encounter family on your first date.

Its passing caught me unawares.  At the beginning of 1972 I went back to College in Manchester and when I returned at Easter it had shown its last film and gone dark.

I can’t now remember if I took in a film at the cinema before I left home but given that the ABC was showing the newly released Steptoe and Son I don’t think I did.

And that may gives us a day in January for when the photograph was taken.

Of course given the large number of young people waiting outside it could be a Saturday but as the film was classified an A and there are plenty of adults accompanying the children it is equally likely that it will be a matinee in what was left of the holidays.

So I guess I shall have to go looking in the local press for January 1972 and in the meantime reflect on the wonderful collection of images held by the Greenwich Heritage Centre, from where I found this one.

Pictures, Eltham ABC, 1972, GRW 1647, http://boroughphotos.org/greenwich/ courtesy of Greenwich Heritage Centre, http://www.greenwichheritage.org/site/index.php

On borrowed time, with tram car 562 in the summer of 1938

 I do have to say that this is one of my favourites from the collection not least because there is so much going on in the picture.

Now it is August 2nd 1938 and car 562 is clanking its way along its route to Albert Square.

Once not that long ago its driver would have only had horse drawn vehicles and pedestrians to contend with but by the summer of 1938 it was pretty much free for all with cars, vans and lorries.

And the writing was on the wall for the stately tall tram.  Ten years before our picture, the decision had been taken to replace the 53 route from Stretford to Cheetham Hill with motor buses and just over a decade later in 1949 the last trams were running on their last journeys.  According to one source the switch to buses on the 53 route was to increase passenger numbers by 11%.*

Added to this was the real need to put in substantial capital investment if the trams were to continue to run and so in 1937 the Corporation took the decision to phase out the tram in favour of the bus and trolley bus.

And if had not been for the outbreak of war two years later there would have been no tram on route 38B passing Grosvenor Street.

It would mean the end of a network of 292 miles of tram track which in 1928 carried passengers on 953 trams across 46 routes. And of course the end of that delicate tracery of cables suspended above the roads which gave power to the trams.

You can of course be swept along by such nostalgic tosh, so back to the summer of 1938 on Grosvenor Street.  Our tram is sandwiched between the van of Ball & Lawrence Ltd who dealt in carpets and that swift moving car crossing car its path.

And then there are the adverts, some of which just fade into the background but deserve mention.  In the shop directly in front of the van and by the speeding car are displays for Craven and Players cigarettes while partially hidden from view is a reminder that the railway company offered routes to Liverpool and North Wales.

But for anyone with an eye to the date and to outbreak of the war a year later it is the advert to “Join the Modern Army” which has a special significance.

Picture; from the collection of Alan Brown

*http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Manchester_Corporation_Tramways

1816 .... the year without a summer

1816 should have been a good year, it was after all the first year of peace since Waterloo, the battle that had ended the long wars with Revolutionary and Napoleonic France which had run with only a short break since 1792.

But it was according to one writer, “the year without a summer, when weeks passed into months and the sun did not appear to ripen the produce [and] there was just torrential rain and thunderstorms.”*

Leading to harvest failures, distress and unrest across Europe and the US.

The terrible weather was connected to the “biggest volcanic eruption in recorded history, which had taken place on the other side of the world.”

According to the agricultural records ** for 1816 it was a wet summer with a very poor harvest with snow lying on the ground into mid April.

 The temperature for July and August was 4-8⁰ below average and the heavy rains were accompanied by strong winds, which meant that the harvests began late with the result that in the Midlands and the North corn was still in the fields in November. Sheep rot was prevalent, hay scarce and much livestock sold for lack of keep.

All of which is easy to gloss over until you try to fix this to people’s lives. The cost of wheat rose to 78s 6d a quarter which would have a real impact on the cost of bread which remained a staple part of the diet of most families.

Here in the township we were dependant on agriculture. Of the 119 families, 96 were directly engaged in farming and another 16 engaged in trade, manufacture and crafts. So a poor harvest impacted not only on those who harvested the crops, but the blacksmith, wheelwright and countless others.

Only the people of plenty might escape hardship and for them the lack of food in the community raised the spectre of unrest and trouble.

There are accounts of people walking from Wales into England begging for food, along with demobbed soldiers wandering the country looking for work.

The unrest is reflected in the resumption of Luddite activity in the North, food riots and protests in London where some carried the French revolutionary flag.

Little in the way of evidence for the township has survived although the records for Stretford show the demand for poor relief. The death rate that year was not exceptional and generally reflected what we might expect with younger people dying than any other age group and these were concentrated mostly in the summer months.

I doubt that we escaped lightly from that year without a summer but as yet the township has not revealed its secrets.

 We would have seen high levels of ash in the atmosphere which would have led to the spectacular sunsets seen in the paintings of Turner but more will be revealed through more diligent research.

Picture; Chichester Canal, circa 1828, J.M.Turner


*Jad Adams, 1816 The Year Without A Summer, BBC Who Do you Think You Are Magazine, Issue 60 May 2012
**Agricultural Records J.M.Stratton 1969

Saturday Morning Pictures at Well Hall Odeon in 1965

You never quite forget that mix of noise and anticipation which was Saturday Morning Pictures.

It started when the manager asked if everyone was happy, continued into the competitions and lasted through most of the morning.

It is easy to over romanticise what was just another way the cinema chain could create more revenue while introducing a young audience to the magic of the big screen.

And once you were hooked you were hooked for life.  The cycle might begin with Saturday Morning Pictures but quickly moved on to the “date” on the back row and in the fullness of time to visits with your children to Disney and of course to Saturday mornings all over again this time dropping off and collectiing a new generation of Saturday children.

But you can also be over cynical even given that what you saw was pretty dire.

I can’t say I ever enjoyed those stories of daring do by young children or the equally improbable tales of faithful dogs and intelligent dolphins saving the day.

I do remember a series which mixed the theme of Ancient Rome, alien invaders and a particularly nasty dictator.

On reflection it was probably shot on a back lot using B actors and involved lots of oddly dressed men riding on horseback across dusty plains.

You knew it was cheap because the plot didn’t follow a logical path and events often passed from bright daylight to late afternoon and back again in the course of one horse race.

All that said they were fun.  There were the cartoons and films, along with live events ranging from talent competitions and fancy dress to the appearance of a well known celebrity and it was always someone’s birthday which was met with a loud shout.

I am not sure whether it would still work today but from the 1940s into the 60s they were a way of life for many children with that added advantage that it freed up time for the adults. In the 1950’s the average weekly attendance at  children’s cinema matinees was over 1,016,000 with 1735 cinemas holding cinema matinees for children.*

The ABC chain began a special club in the 1940s for their ABC Minors complete with badge and song and birthday cards.  It cost just 6d.

I can’t now remember which cinema I went to, but I still have vivid memories of collecting my sisters from the Well Hall Odeon and getting there a little early just to catch the last ten minutes of whatever was going off.

They were never ABC Minors, after all when you lived just minutes away from the Odeon there was no point tramping all the way up to the High Street to the ABC on the corner of Plassey Place.

So that was my Saturday mornings in Eltham till mum judged that Stella and Elizabeth were old enough to take my two younger sisters without me.

I don’t suppose my mornings at the flicks had lasted that long and nor did theirs. They were probably one of the last generations to enjoy that mix of noise and anticipation in the dark accompanied by that warm smell of cinema disinfectant, and popcorn.

There may still be Saturday Morning Pictures but it costs a lot more than 6d and I can't think they will be the same, but then perhaps I am just old and biased.

* Wheare Committee http://terramedia.co.uk

Pictures, Well Hall Odeon, courtesy of Eltham, https://www.facebook.com/pages/Eltham/210661675617589?fref=ts and  ABC Minors Badge, ABC Minors children’s cinema postcard Happy Birthday, 1948, BD084660
University of Essex, http://collections.ex.ac.uk/repository/handle/10472/3222?show=full
http://cinematreasures.org/video/abc-minors-matinee

Capturing a moment on Corporation Street in the December of 1902

It took some working out but I know exactly where I am and when.

We are on Corporation Street just after it has crossed Market Street and if we hitched a lift with the chap on the wagon as it passed M. Drapkin we would be heading towards Victoria Station.

Today this corner is dominated by Marks and Spencer’s, but then it was a collection of shops and offices which included at number 1 a chemist at number 3 Drapkin Major & Co tobaconists, and a music seller at number 5.  Beyond that stretched out more offices before Corporation Street crossed Cannon Street, skirting the Corn Exchange and passing on to Victoria Station.

Of course all that has gone, swept away by the redevelopment which included the Arndale on the opposite side of the road and Exchange Square which pretty much stands on top of Cannon Street.

I won’t bore you with the detective story but placing the wagon and tram car 327 on Corporation Street on December 7th 1902 required a sifting excercise.  Drapkin’s had a number of tobacconists in the centre of the city but only one by a music shop and this was on Corporation Street.

I suppose the clincher was the tram with its destination board showing a route from Victorai Station and on to Albert Square.

Now my sense of direction is not very good and it took a bit of time to place the tram in the right direction and square it up with the buildings behind.

What helped was Goad’s Fire Insurance map which details many of the properties in the city centre including the materials used and the design of the property.

So as they say the boy got there in the end. And I rather think the pillar box in front of the shop selling “Pianos by the best makers for cash or hire” is in the same spot as the one which survived the IRA bomb.

This was the main route from Albert Square to Victoria Station and Cheetham Hill and so was a busy place, along with the people thronging the streets there are plenty of  horse drawn vehicles that catch the eye which is a reminder that as late as the start of the last century most goods were still transported by horse.

There were stables, vets and blacksmiths still operating in the centre of the city to support these horses and all the railway companies had their own stables close to their warehouses.

But it is that tram that draws me long after I have clocked the contents on the wagons or gazed at the pedestrians.

The tram driver turns to talk to the conductor while on the top deck amongst the animated conversations one man leans on the rail, his attention caught by something on the street below which maybe the young woman just at the extreme edge of the picture.

Nor is he alone for another on the top deck  looks down in the same general direction.

And while all this is going on one passenger chooses that moment to leave the rear of the tram.

There is just one little point that I can’t quite resolve and that is the date.

I902 seems fine but I rather think we can not be in December given the lack of overcoats, but that is down to who ever wrote the caption and after a century there seems little point in shouting about that.

So I shall finish with one last tiny bit of detective work for which again I will never know the answer but down to our right to the right might just be the subject of our man on the tram''s gaze.

She is that young woman at the extreme edge of the picture.  Dressed in a blouse and fashionable hat she may have just turned on to Corporation Street from Market Street.  But as there will be those who accuse me of idle speculation I will let all that hang in the air.

Picture; from the collection Alan Brown

Passing an old landmark

Now I can’t remember what prompted me to take to the river or who I was with.

I am guessing it will have been one of my sisters, and we may just have been filling in a few hours.

But I am glad I did, because back 39 years ago I took a lot of pictures from the boat which are all that is left of much of what we saw.

Location; the Thames

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

Gentrification …… Beech Road ….. and those posh people who lived here

How easy it is make judgements about how Chorlton and Beech Road in particular have changed. 

Chorlton Row, circa 1880s

And in those debates came that old familiar assertion of gentrification, which I am never sure whether it is  a] an insult b] a lazy definition or c] something else.

My dictionary describes gentrification “as the process whereby the character of a poor urban area is changed by wealthier people moving in, improving housing, and attracting new businesses, often displacing current inhabitants in the process”.

Now if you moved on to Beech Road in the 1970s or grew up in the surrounding streets it is just possible to have some sympathy with that assertion.

Charles Clarke our blacsmith from the 1860s

What was an indifferent but nice shopping area offering the range of retail opportunities from food, booze, hardware, and a TV shop has morphed into a row of bars, restaurants and gift places.  Added to which the small rows of two up two down houses, many of which were built for rent by Joe Scott at the start of the 20th century are now desirable and sought after modernised homes, commanding high prices which are beyond the range of our children who were born and grew up on Beech Road.

But all of that is to be a little unhistorical.

Even in that so called pre gentrification Beech Road which I am guessing is meant to be sometime before 1960 stretching back into the beginning of the last century there were a lot of well healed, comfortably off families living here.

That is attested not only by the census records and street directories but by the big houses along Cross Road, and Chequers, Stockton and St Clements Road.

And look again at the shops themselves and there was a mix of basic and slightly up market shops from when Beech Road was developed during the late 1870s onwards.

Go back another thirty years when we were a small agricultural community and Beech Road was called Chorlton Row, and between the blacksmith, a beer shop and some wattle and daub cottages there were several wealthy households.  They included the Holt family in their huge house and garden on the corner of Beech and Barlow Moor Road, and several very comfortable families, one of whom lived beside the smithy. To which can be added the Blomey’s who had the pond on the corner of Acres Road named after them.

Chorlton Row, 1854

The reality is that Beech Road has always been a mixed area, and the expansion of smaller houses on Provis, Neale and Higson was a response to the changing demographics which saw the occupation of the residents defined by clerical and professional occupations and away from the land.

To conclude it is a moot point what came first in the late 1970s and 80s.  Was it gentrification or the collapse of the traditional shopping patterns which saw more and more shops close with no apparent hint at what would replace them?  

Our own brief amusement arcade came and went in the 1980s, and the first restaurants and bars were opening up along with the Italian Delia by the end of that decade.

Bar de Tapas, 2023

And the trend by professionals to buy up and modernise those small two up two downs was only just beginning during this period.

On the cusp of change Beech Road circa 1980s

Go back to the beginning of the 20th century and we find the Manchester Evening News reporting that large parts of Chorlton including the roads off Beech Road were being transformed from open farm land to comfortably off modern properties home to the middling people.

All that seems to have have happened is that a century later the process continues.

And with that comes that other rather blunt observation which is the residents of Beech Road when I moved in in 1976 might well be offended by being told they lived in a "poor urban area". 

Beech Road Cafe Society, circa 2008

Looking at the historical records their occupations ranged from manual, through to clerical, retail and professional and Chorlton -cum-Hardy  was always perceived as a comfortable if not affluent suburb of the city.

I assume the gentrification jibe refers to the shops and restaurants, and here the question is "if not them what?"

Retail shopping has changed and small independent food shops rarely survive, and that has pretty much been the case since the 1980s.  

Leaving aside the deli we do have one grocers shop which competes with the Co-op and Etchells and that I think is all that Beech Road can sustain.

Beech Road, circa 1900

Remember, when there were a multitude of food shops all along Beech Road, and around the Green and off both Crossland and Ivy Green in the early decades of the last century people didn't have either a freezer or a fridge, and were forced to shop daily. 

It is less that Beech Road has gentrified and more that few people  now shop as they did a century ago.

Location; Beech Road

Pictures; Chorlton Row circa 1880s, , Beech Road circa 1900, from the Lloyd Collection, picture of Charles Clark, 1913 Courtesy of Manchester Libraries, Information and Archives, Manchester City Council, picture of Charles Clark, DPA 328.18, Courtesy of Greater Manchester Archives, Chorlton Row, 1854, from the OS map of Lancashure, 1854, courtesy of Digital Archives Association, http://digitalarchives.co.uk/, Beech Road in the 1980s, from the collection of Tony Walker, 1980s, Cafe Society on Beech Road, 2023, from the collection of Andrew Simpson

Tram car 283 out from Victoria Park ……. with Mr. William Becket

I don’t have a date for the picture, but it will be sometime after the Great War.

The guard standing in front of the tram is Mr. William Becket, and his career pretty much matched that of Manchester Corporation Trams.

He started on the trams, but ended his career as a bus inspector, while motor buses slowly replaced the tram, with the last tram car taking its last trip as a scheduled route on Sunday  January 9th  1949.

This was the 35, from Victoria Street to Hazel Grove.  The last moments of that journey have been recorded by Ian Yearsley in his book The Manchester Tramways.*

“That evening a group of us made our way over to Exchange to ride on the last car to Hazel Grove and back. As we stood on the wet pavement by the Cathedral it was hard to believe that this was really the end. ….... Eventually the last through car to Hazel Grove arrived, and we watched it go through the familiar routine for the last time.  The few passengers got off, and the car rolled gently down to the end of the track by Oliver Cromwell.  The light went out and in the faint light of the streetlamps we could see the guard walking around.”**

Tram car 283 had ended it service two years earlier, on December 22nd, 1947 when it was replaced by a bus.

I have Steve Casson to thank for the picture.  Mr. William Becket was his grandfather, and Steve wondered just where the photograph had been taken.

I haven’t been able to find the spot, but I know that in its forty-five years it plied a course from Victoria Street to Princess Road, and later to Fallowfield and Wilbraham Road and then Barlow Moor Road.  Later still the service was extended to Mauldeth Road via Kinsgway and was extended again to East Didsbury.

But I think Steve will be interested to know that its period of service from Victoria Park to Princess Road was from December 1st, 1902 till December 1924, and as this was the time his granddad worked the route, I guess it will be along that corridor that we shall have to look for the location of the picture.

Location; somewhere between, Victoria Park to Princess Road

Picture; tram car 283, somewhere between, Victoria Park to Princess Road, circa 1902 to 1924, from the collection of Steve Casson

*The Manchester Tramways, Ian Yearsley and Philip Groves, 1988
**ibid The Manchester Tramways,  p244

There is always another on the way …… travelling by bus to Chorlton Station

I have Kevin Barker to thank for this picture.

I am looking at two employees of Manchester Corporation posing for their photograph on route number 9.

It’s a perfect example of how there is always another on the way, which might be a bus or a new picture I haven't seen before.

I think we will be on Edge Lane sometime in the early 20th century.

A quick search of The Manchester Bus by Michael Eyre and Chris Heaps reveals that this is “Daimler NA2687 at Longford Park on the service from Chorlton to the Stretford boundary at that point; it has the first of many bus bodies that would be built by the Car Works. Note the taller bonnet line of the Y type chassis”. 

They date the picture to 1914 and tell me that the bus could seat 38 but in 1923 was rebuilt to increase the number of seats to 44 by extending the upper deck over the driver’s cab.

And that is about it.

Other than to say I have no idea that there was once a bus to and from Chorlton railway station to Longford Park.

The fun will be to identify the back drop and leaving me to thank Kevin for whizzing the picture over today and to Andy Robertson for his indulgence in letting me continue to borrow his bus and tram books on an extended loan which will soon be a decade.

Location; Longford Road?

Picture; Daimler NA2687 at Longford Park, 1914, courtesy of Kevin Barker

* The Manchester Bus by Michael Eyre and Chris Heaps, 1989

A lost sweet shop from Beech Road revisiting a popular story

I won’t be the only one who has memories of buying sweets at the shop which was on  the corner of Beech Road and Claude Road, and there may be others like me who bought things when it sold a mix of almost antique stuff back in the late 1980s.

Not that it was always a shop; back in 1911 soon after it had been built it was the home of Robert and Janet Connell.  They were from Scotland, had been married for 38 years and had two children one of whom was still registered as living at home despite being a ships steward.

It was then an impressive seven roomed house.  If I wanted I could no doubt discover when the property was converted into a shop.  It was certainly selling sweets in the November of 1958 when R.E. Stanley photographed it.

Nor had it changed much when Tom McGrath took his picture almost thirty years later.  And I think the old bill boards were still there in the 1980s advertising the current films showing at the cinema around the corner.

Today it has reverted to a home as have other commercial conversions along Beech Road.

Pictures; Number 1 Beech Road by R.E. Stanley, November 1958, Courtesy of Manchester Libraries, Information and Archives, Manchester City Council, m17659, and from the collection of Tom McGrath

The Eltham & Woolwich pictures ...... no.13 behind our house

A short series on the pictures of Eltham and Woolwich in 1976.

For four decades the pictures I took of Eltham and Woolwich in the mid ‘70’s sat undisturbed in our cellar.

But all good things eventually come to light.

They were colour slides which have been transferred electronically.

The quality of the original lighting and the sharpness is sometimes iffy, but they are a record of a lost Eltham and Woolwich.

Location; Woolwich



Picture; Woolwich circa 1976, from the collection of Andrew Simpson

The tram ......a King's visit ..... and a freebie ..........

 There will be someone who can date the picture postcard, and by extension name which King was visiting Manchester and set off this display of civic loyalty.

It could be Edward Vll, or his son, George V or  just possibly either Edward Vlll, or George Vl.

And quick as a flash, David Harrop pointed to the cypher on the front of tram car and offered up the explanation that this was a visit from Edward Vlll.

For me, what is more intriguing is the printed information on the reverse of the car, which carries the information, “This beautiful Series of Fine Art Post Cards is supplied free exclusively by Brett’s Publications, comprising ‘My Pocket Novels’, ‘Keepsake Novels’ and Something to Read’”.

A first trawl revealed no company called Brett’s Publications or the three series for 1911 in the Manchester Directories, and I suspect I won’t turn them up in earlier directories.

They could of course be based in London or any other part of the country.

But they offer up an insight into advertising and retail long before a soap company offered free plastic flowers with each sale, or various companies gave away novelty toys in their packets of breakfast cereals.

But like the date of the picture postcard, someone will have an opinion on Brett’s Publications and will have done the serious research.

Well I hope so.

Location; Manchester

Picture; The King’s Visit to Manchester, date unknown from the collection of David Harrop.