OK you come in now ... its official

So today heaps of people came in to Chorlton Library to officially say hello to the nelwy refurbished building, and by a common agreement it is magnificent.

Location: Chorlton Library

Pictures; the new library, 2025 deom the collection of Andrew Simpson

William & Julia Relph of the Rising Sun a promise fulfilled

This is William Relph who ran the Rising Sun on the High Street from sometime in the 1880s till his death in 1909.

Now you can never be certain but it is more than likely that when a photographer turned up in the High Street in the summer of 1890 it will have been the landlord of the Rising Sun who came to the door to see what all the fuss was about.

And so this is William Relph and I have to own up to a mix of quiet satisfaction and fascination that I have tracked him down.

It was a promise I made in earlier stories and have now completed that promise.*

He was born in Greenwich in 1847 and came from a family that ran public houses.

What marks him out as a little special is that William saw his time out in both the old Rising Sun and the new one which still stands on the High Street.

The old pub according to our historian R.R.C Gregory was about 200 years old when it was demolished and replaced by the present pub in 1904.

Nor is that the only thing that intrigues me about William.

I had almost given up hope of finding him and then as you do I came across his widow Julia who was still in charge in 1911, and it was Julia who caught my imagination.

She was born in Cadiz, Spain and of course that raises all sorts of intriguing speculation.

But before I could go off on a flight of fancy I discovered her maiden name was West and like William her father was a publican.

That said her parents were in Spain between the birth of her brother in 1852 and when she was born two years later which may explain why they are missing from the census returns for the middle decades of the 19th century.

So there is more to find out but finding William and Julia of the Rising Sun is enough for now.

Pictures; 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  and Chrissie Rose February 2014

*Eltham’s Rising Sun, http://chorltonhistory.blogspot.co.uk/search/label/Eltham%27s%20Rising%20Sun

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

The sandwich board ............ a century apart

Advertising the Palace Theatre, 1896

Once the man with a sandwich board was a common site on the streets of all our towns and cities.

And then sometime after the last world war they seemed to disappear.

I guess it was part of that more slick way of advertising which relied on TV to get the message over.

But they are back usually advertising fast food and can be seen following the main routes into the city or as in this case at St Mary’s Gate close to St Ann’s Square.

Some firms have gone that step forward and produced a sign which mimics the product.

And like their predecessors a century ago they walk the streets in all weathers, come rain, hail or sun.

Fast food, 2015

Back in 1896 Henry Tidmarsh recorded what he saw on the streets of Manchester.  In all he produced over 300 illustrations for the book Manchester Old and New.

It was published in 1894 by Cassell with a text by William Arthur Shaw and told the history of the city but the real value of the book was in Tidmarsh's vivid depictions of Manchester, with streets and buildings animated with people.

Location; Manchester




Pictures; At St Mary’s Gate, 2015, from the collection of Andrew Simpson, and by St Peter’s Church, 1896, Henry Tidmarsh, from Manchester Old and New, William Arthur Shaw, 1896

The story of one road in Chorlton ……. a picture

An occasional series exploring the road which was once called Chorlton Row.

This is a familiar enough picture of what is now Beech Road, and it crops up every so often.

John Lloyd offers the date of 1880 which maybe correct.

The wall to the right belongs to what had been Daniel Sharpe’s house, and beside it is the smithy, which from 1860 had been worked by the Clarke family.

Like now, the road snakes off towards Barlow Moor Road, and while there had been some new build along its course, there were still two farm houses and plenty of open land which was still being farmed.

There had been a smithy on the Row from at least 1834, and the magic of “heating and hammering” on this spot would continue well into the 20th century.

The blacksmith was at the heart of the rural community and in 1834 this task was performed by William Davis who  supplied the needs of the village, repairing broken tools, forging new ones and shoeing horses. 

He lived with his family at Black’s cottage on land he rented from Lydia Black and John Brundrett. 

The smithy was well sited.  To the east along the Row were the Bailey and Gratrix farms and around the corner on the green three more.

Little more is known about William Davis, but we know that John Clarke paid £55 for the goodwill and fixtures , including the forge, pigsty and shed, in 1859.
If this picture dates from 1880, it is more than likely that the man in shirt sleeves standing in the doorway is John Smith who would be 50 years of age.

Location; Chorlton

Picture; Beech Road, circa 1880 from the Lloyd Collection

"Shedding an occasional ray of light and cheer upon the dull lives of the slum children" ......... the Cinderella Clubs

Now until recently I had no idea that there was an organisation called the Cinderella Club or of its links to the wider socialist movement and of its work in helping poor working class children.

It is one of those little stories which has faded from view, but is an interesting insight into how we were dealing with child poverty over a century ago.

“The idea of the Cinderella Clubs seems to have originated with Robert Blatchford, a journalist with the Sunday Chronicle. According to the Leeds Mercury of 18 April 1890, the Cinderella Club Movement, which was founded in Manchester, aimed 'to shed an occasional ray of light and cheer upon the dull lives of the slum children.' 

The Chronicle had 'asked for helpers in other towns,' and appears to have had little difficulty in securing these from the middle and working classes as well as patrons from the better classes.  In Leeds, for example, the Cinderella Club could count amongst its patrons the Mayor and Lady Mayoress and at least one local Member of Parliament.”*

In pursuing the story I came across twenty-five photographs of the work of the club taken in 1910.

They cover everything from Christmas visits to parties and the inevitable day out by the sea.

And it clearly there is a story here, both in its own right and as another challenge to those who saw the migration to Canada as the answer to child poverty, destitution and neglect.

Of course the Cinderella Clubs could never do more than be a short term fix to a big problem and there will be those who argued that in the long run a new start away from the grime and awful conditions of our inner cities in the fresh air and open fields of Canada and later Australia was the way forward.

For a few this may have been the case but as the records are beginning to show the migration of thousands of children to Canada brought heart ache, suffering and in some cases a degree of cruelty which exceeded what these young people had experienced here.

It also neatly side stepped the real issues that the prevailing economic and social system was responsible for the conditions endured by the majority of working people which even in good times was circumscribed by the possibilities of ill health unemployment and just bad luck.

Any of which could pitch a family into real poverty and destitution.

So I shall dig deeper in to the Cinderella Club Movement and into the Christian Socialists who seemed to be linked to the clubs.

All of which only leaves me to thank Dee who first published the story on facebook yesterday and in turn led me to the various sites which gave me some insight into their work.

In the meantime I shall just return to the images from the archive and in particular to the four I have featured.  I could have chosen others. But these I think sum up the club.

They all convey that mix of excitement and sheer pleasure that from a  party and a day out.  It is there in the smile on the face of the lone boy and from some of those in the hall.

And then there is the station scene.  It is a destination I do not know but maybe someone will follow the clue of “FURNISH AT WARINGS MANCH’R or recognise the station approach and come up with a place.

It is so representative of an institutional day out.  The children all in the best clothes, with a uniformity in their dress, the adults also decked out in their finest accompanying their own children and beyond them the day to day throng of railway passengers.

But there is also something else which I am not so sure about and sits a little uncomfortably with me.  It starts with that sign announcing “POOR GIRLS AND BOYS”, and going on to explain that the camp is SUPPORTED SOLELY BY VOLUNTARY CONTRIBUTIONS, and that it is "OPEN FOR INSPECTION DAILY.”

This may be a necessary part of any voluntary organisation and good self publicity but  reminds me of those before and after images that the children’s societies of the period went in for as a way of promoting their work of rescuing young people off the streets.

But I suspect that those in our picture were not bothered about the sign, they like the lad with the smile and the present are more content with what had been offered them.

Pictures; Cricket Game with the Cinderella Club, 1910,  m68190 , a party meal, m68191, one happy child, m68208, and setting off, m68209, courtesy of Manchester Libraries, Information and Archives, Manchester City Council

* The Cinderella Club Movement from the blog, Victorian History, http://vichist.blogspot.co.uk/2012/03/cinderella-club-movement.html

**Manchester Local Image Collection, http://images.manchester.gov.uk/ResultsList.php?QueryName=BasicQuery&QueryPage=%2Findex.php%3Fsession%3Dpass&Anywhere=SummaryData%7CAdmWebMetadata&QueryTerms=Cinderella-Club&QueryOption=Anywhere&Submit=Search&StartAt=1

Visitation of God or manslaughter, the death of John Bradshaw in Eltham in 1837

Rural communities have never been the peaceful idyllic places some would have us believe.

In just a short two decades, the small township of Chorlton-cum-Hardy experienced two murders, a series of daring burglaries and two cases of infanticide.

There were also groups of violent drunks from Manchester who persistently intimidated the local residents and just a mile or so away passengers on packet boats travelling along the Duke’s Canal from Stretford were pelted with stones.

Some of the crimes were opportunistic, others like the poaching of potatoes from the fields on the northern side of Chorlton were organised by gangs who came in from Hulme equipped with wheel barrows and their own sacks.

From the Times February 1 1837

And then because the southern end of the township opened out onto the flood plain and was relatively remote it was perfect for illegal prize fighting which could attract hundreds who if necessary could escape over the Mersey into Cheshire and thereby evade the Lancashire police.

All of which makes me think that the drunken attack on the landlord of the Castle in Eltham High Street in the January of 1837 will not have been an isolated case.  Indeed just a few months later an armed gang of escaped convicts from Woolwich were apprehended trying to make for the woods to the south of Shooters Hill.*

Now there is a danger in elevating two events into a crime wave, but I rather think it is just that we haven’t looked too closely at the newspaper reports or the Quarterly Sessions.

And so back to Mr John Bradshaw, late of the Castle in the High Street and the story of John Foster who came to the assistance of the landlord.

Like so many nice tales of the past its telling emerged from a chance discovery of a newspaper report of the inquest into Mr Bradshaw’s death and the work of my new chum Jean who is a descendant of John Foster.**

The Foster’s ran the smithy in the High Street and were well respected that stories of old Mr Foster were still circulating into the town almost a hundred years after he first arrived from Carlisle.

The Castle in 1909

The story itself is not an unusual one, a drunk by the name of Lucas fell foul of the landlord who ordered him out and in the subsequent scuffle Mr Bradshaw was hit and fell over.

And this was where the young John Foster came into the story attempting to remove Lucas from the pub not once but twice.

In the meantime Mr Bradshaw had died and the medial opinion was his death had been “caused by a sudden fit or a convulsion of the brain, produced by a fall.  His death must have been instantaneous.”***

The inquest was held in Mr Bradshaw’s pub which was a common enough practice, given that after the church the only other public place large enough would have been the school house or a pub.

Now I have come across quite a few inquests from the period and what I always find fascinating is that they provide a rare opportunity to hear ordinary people, many of whom have not left a scrap of written material about themselves or their times.

And so here we have John Foster, along with John Heritage and Mrs Bradshaw speaking directly to us of the event that happened that night.

Nor is that all for in the course of the inquest other people are mentioned all of whom it should be possible to track down.

But most striking is the clash between the coroner and the Jury.  He was satisfied and said so that the death was “by the visitation of God” rather than at the hand of Lucas which conflicted with their verdict “That the death of the deceased was caused by over excitement, produced by the conduct of James Lucas.”

Remarkably the Coroner refused to accept the verdict, directed them to think again and when by a majority they returned the same decision commented “I cannot agree with you that your verdict is a proper one. [and was] bound to order you all to appear at the Criminal Court and take the onion of the learned judge whether I am bound to receive such a verdict, which is in direct opposition to the evidence.”

This is a judgement by the Coroner made all the more odd given one witness reported that it was Lucas’s blow to Mr Bradshaw which had resulted in the fall and subsequent conclusion commented on by the surgeon.

Now unlike other inquests I have written about we do not know who the jurors were and that is a pity because they appear to have been a resolute bunch prepared to stand up to the Coroner.

So much so that the foreman was moved to comment that “If we are obliged to attend without returning our verdict, I am quite at a loss to know what use it is to call jury.  For my part I have come to the determination to return no other verdict.”

All of which makes me feel for these “little men” who were prepared to stand their ground against the professional with all his authority.

Now that could just be the end of the story but not quite.  John Bradshaw was buried in the parish church and there will opportunities to pursue the lives of the others mentioned in the inquest.

And so to Lucas.

From the court records, 1837

A search of the criminal records revealed that a James Lucas aged 51 went before the Kent Assizes on January 30th 1837 for manslaughter and was acquitted.

There is of course a slight mismatch in dates.  The inquest report is dated February 1st and the hearing was the day before.  But given that the Times reported that the inquiry was adjourned until the following evening when the Coroner had consulted a higher authority “as to whether I can receive your verdict” it may well be that the jury was once again ignored.

As it was James Lucas was in Well Hall in 1841, a widow living with his two daughters, Harriet aged 14 and Emmie aged 12.  His given occupation was a sawyer and so now a new search begins, for information on his wife Sarah and perhaps some of the other people named in the inquest who may well have worked with him.

*Convict Chase and Capture, the Times May 8th 1837
**Tragedy at the Castle Inn, Jean Gammons and based on a report in The Times February 1st 1837
***evidence of Mr David King, surgeon

Picture; The Castle Inn from The story of Royal Eltham, R.R.C. Gregory, 1909 and published on The story of Royal Eltham, http://www.gregory.elthamhistory.org.uk/ 

Synagogues ….. churches …… an Ice Rink and plenty more …. on the trail of Cheetham Hill Road

I never knew that old Cheetham Hill Road with its mix of synagogues, churches, densely packed houses, as well, schools, shops, and the Ice Rink.

Looking up Cheetham Hill Road, 1935

And despite having washed up in the city in 1969 it wouldn’t be till the mid-1980s that I wandered up Ducie Street and on to Cheetham Hill Road taking in bits of Redbank and Strangeways.

Since then, I have been back a few times, and the place remains a busy place.

True there are plenty of empty spaces which have been taken over by car parks, but in between there are heaps of small businesses, occupying some of the surviving old properties as well as specially designed single storey buildings.

You can take your pick of garment manufactures and retailers as well as garages, restaurants and offices.

Walking up Lord Street, 2025

Step off the main road and it is much the same story, but 21st regeneration is creeping up from the River Irk.

Looking down Cheetham Hill Road, 2025

So, Redbank is now the Green Quarter and where crummy houses squeezed between warehouses and factories, tall new residential properties are reaching up to the sky with manicured lawns and open spaces, with new street names.

And now there are plans for something new for Strangeways.

In March Manchester City Council released details of a joint development plan with Salford City Council for “a programme of investment which could see up to 7,000 new homes across seven distinct ‘neighbourhood’ areas, [with] increased commercial floorspace of around 1.75m sq ft, [which] could support an additional 4,500 jobs”.*

Bent Street, 2025

It looks exciting and is in line with the last two decades of development which have seen many parts of the twin cities transformed with new residential, and commercial properties which have drastically altered the skyline.

I did rather great carried away with the bold plan and described Strangways as a place waiting for something to happen.

And that was a bit unfair given just how much is going on already, and just how varied and quirky are the businesses occupying the area.

So not more than a few minutes away from Big Image which is really a small garment business on Empire Street there is the Yard at Bent Street,  which is “A space where music and art thrive, and where creative industry start-ups and established pros can shake off the tired and let go of the expected*”*.

Empire Street, fashions, 2025

And close by the Brewery of Joseph Holt.

Watching, Cheetham Hill Road, 2025

Added to these there are bits of the past, from that Ice Rink, the former New Synagogue, Jewish Soup Kitchen and the Torah School which is now home to the Yard.

All of which suggests more walks looking for the historic Strangeways.

Location; off Cheetham Hill Road

Pictures; walking the streets of Strangeways, 2025 from the collection of Andrew Simpson, Cheetham Hill Road, 1935, m16264, , courtesy of Manchester Archives and Local History Library, http://images.manchester.gov.uk/index.php?session=pass

*Manchester City Council, Manchester and Salford present draft proposals for major Strangeways and Cambridge regeneration, March 2025, https://www.manchester.gov.uk/news/article/9657/manchester_and_salford_present_draft_proposals_for_major_strangeways_and_cambridge_regeneration

The former New Synagogue, Cheetham Hill Road, 2025

** The Yard, https://www.theyardmcr.com/

In search of the sellers of sleep on Angel Street …..

Now yesterday I was on Angel Street exploring the stories behind the doors of the lodging houses, of which there were many in the surrounding area.

44 Angel Street, 1897, 

Number 44 Angel Street was typical.  It was run by Mr. Patrick Comer.  On the night of March 31st 1901 when the census was taken it was home to thirty two men ranging from William Paxton aged 22 from Wigan who described himself as a street hawker to Thomas Reed from Ireland who at 74 was still working as a labourer.

All of them earned their living from manual work or the slightly more precarious occupation of selling on the streets.

Most were single although a few were widowers and while the largest single group had been born here there were those from the rest of Lancashire, as well as Ireland Scotland and even London.

I doubt their stories will ever be told, and even after combing all the official records for the 32 the results will be fragmentary and much of their lives will remain in the shadows.

And so following up on comments from John Anthony Hewitt and Geoff Ashworth, who were both interested in the owners and managers of these places who were what the French called “sellers of sleep".

Inside 44 Angel Street, 1897

Not that the owner would have been over bothered at the use put to his properties.  In the case of number 44 this was someone listed as Allanson.  He or she first appears in the Rate Books owning numbers 44, 42, and 38, but by 1898 the empire had shrunk to just 44.

On Angel Street, 1900

A search of the records has so far not thrown up any candidates that I can be confident as being the owner.

That said I was a little more successful with the man I take to be the manager.  This was Patrick Comer who may be one of the men staring out at us from the photograph dated 1898.  He seems an interesting character as he is also listed as occupying both numbers 44 and 40.

And yet the census returns for 1901 offer no reference to Mr. Comer.  Of course he had moved on between 1891 when he appears in the Rate Books and 1901 when is absent from the census.

Or perhaps he was still officially the occupier doffing up 7/6d a week for the rent on 44 and 5/- for number 40, and then collecting  a sub rent from those actually living in the two houses.

So more searching and more speculation.

Location; Angel Street

Pictures; Angel Street, 1900, m85543 44 Angel Street, 1897, m08360, 44 Angel Street 1898, m00195, and Angel Street common lodging house, 1897, m08365, S.L.Coulthurst, courtesy of Manchester Libraries, Information and Archives, Manchester City Council, http://images.manchester.gov.uk/index.php?session=pass

*Angel Street, https://chorltonhistory.blogspot.com/search/label/Angel%20Street

In the King's Arms in Eltham with William Goodwin sometime after 1822

“A characteristic feature of the King’s Arms is the quant fire place which still exists in the parlour, as well as the ancient clock, the old bacon rack, and the distinct air of antiquity which all the rooms wear, and it is easy to imagine the association of the house with times earlier than the middle of the 17th century, the date mentioned in the book of taverns.”*

Now when R.R.C, Gregory wrote this description of the place in 1909 it may well already have clocked its second century.

For there is a tantalizing reference to an inn at Eltham from a directory of taverns in the counties around London, but sadly we do not have a name.  Mr Gregory rather thought it might have been the Castle on the strength of the date of two metal tokens found on the site which carried the legend, THE CASTELL. TAVERNE – A Castle, and  ELTHAM. 1649 – N.T.M.

Tokens circulated widely in the 17th and early 18th century and were a direct response to the lack of low denomination currency which led to businessmen and traders creating large issues which could be redeemed at the shop, warehouse or inn of the owner.

And along with the 1649 token were ones from other merchants dating back slightly earlier and in to the 1660s.

All of which lies wide open the question of which was the oldest pub and for that I guess I will have to wait.

But at least I know that the Kings Arms was in the hands of William Godwin by at least 1822, for in that year he and his wife Ann baptized their son in the parish church and there in the records he is listed as an inn keeper.

And we can then track him through tax records, local directories and the census all the way up to 1871, by which time he was 80 and living with his two sons, a married daughter a grandson and two lodgers.

Across the way behind him at the Crown was John Martin who had started his pub career just a little later but was also still going strong in the April of 1871.

Now I like the etail in these pictures so I was drawn to the Dartford Brewery sign which dates our photograoh from sometimetime between 1897 and 1909.

According to AIM25, 'the Dartford Brewery was founded as "Miller and Aldworth", and from 1887 "Miller and Aldworth Limited". 

It was incorporated in July 1897 as "Dartford Brewery Company Limited". The Brewery was situated at Lowfield Street, Dartford, Kent.

The brewery was acquired jointly by Style and Winch Limited and the Royal Brewery Brentford Limited in 1924; and was therefore acquired by Barclay Perkins and Company Limited in 1929 when it purchased Style and Winch Limited and the Royal Brewery Brentford Limited.

The Brewery went into voluntary liquidation in 1970'.**

*R.R.C.Gregory, the Story of Royal Eltham, 1909

**Aim25, AIM25 is a major project to provide electronic access to collection level descriptions of the archives of over one hundred higher education institutions, learned societies, cultural organisations and livery companies within the greater London area http://www.aim25.ac.uk/


Pictures; The Kings Arms and the old fireplace from The story of Royal Eltham, R.R.C. Gregory, 1909 and published on The story of Royal Eltham, by Roy Ayers, http://gregory.elthamhistory.org.uk/

Another bit of the story of Chorlton's first cinema and a performance of Dorothy in the April of 1914

Now I would like to think that one day I could identify these members of the Chorlton Operatic Society.

In 1910 their secretary was  Herbert Bayfield of 61 Claude Road, and their conductor a T M Ferneley, but of course three years later when they gave this performance at the Pavilion Theatre in the April of 1914 these two may have passed on to greater things.

But the picture remains a wonderful find and has set me off again thinking about just how much there was to do in Chorlton back in the early decades of the last century.

According to Kemp’s Almanack and Handbook for 1910, there was everything from an amateur gardening society, a drama club and Literary Association along with our operatic society and an orchestral society.

So plenty to do, and if instead if you fancied sport there were cricket, football, tennis, golf and hockey clubs which vied with lacrosse, cycling and bowling to draw the more athletic resident out to play.

Which brings me back to the operatic society and the Pavilion Theatre.

The society was active by 1910 and still going strong fifteen years later when the Manchester Guardian reported that the "Chorlton Operatic and Dramatic Society has given three successful performances of ‘Peg o’ My Heart” this week at the Chorlton Public Hall, in aid of the Widows and Orphans Fund of the National Union of Journalists.  A fourth and final performance of the play will take place tonight.”*

Back in 1914 they had been performing in aid of the Chorlton and District Nursing Association which was also listed in the Alamanck and run by Mrs Worlidge of 12 Edge Lane who would soon be running the Red Cross Voluntary Hospital in the Sunday School of the Baptist Church.

And so the picture does begin to tie many little things together.  The influx of new people into the township was sufficiently large and diverse to support many cultural activities and the Operatic Society were performing in the relatively new Pavilion on the corner of Wilbraham and Buckingham Roads.

It had been opened around 1904, soon changed its name to the Chorlton Theatre and Winter Gardens and from 1909 was our first cinema.

It remains a place that fascinates me and continues to offer up new stories ever since I came across a photograph of the place in the June of 1910.

And finally there was Mr Herbert Bayfield of 61 Claude Road whose address is listed in 1911 but is missing from the census record just a few month later, which is odd given that he had been living there by 1904.

But maybe he had moved on, which of course will perhaps mean he is not one of those on our picture.

Pictures; the Chorlton Operatic Society April 1914 from the Manchester Courier, courtesy of Sally Dervan, and the Chorlton Theatre and Winter Gardens, June 1910 from the Lloyd Collection

*Chorlton Dramatic Society’s Effort for Charity, Manchester Guardian November 21 1915.

On Liverpool Road in 1896 .............. ladders, hair restorer and Mr Barrett with a nod to a road repair

I wonder if this is Mr James Barrett standing staring back at us.  

I am fairly confident it might be him, given that in 1895 he occupied numbers 7-9  Liverpool Road in the year before this picture was taken.

He is listed as “clothes dealer” and his neighbours at number 11 were the Johnson Brothers who were ladder makers and for confirmation there in the picture are sets of ladders.

And both Mr Barrett and the Johnson Brothers are listed in the Rates Book for 1895.

But the only problem might be the shop at number 5 shown in the right of our picture, because this looks to be a chemist, which the poster for Hair Restorer and the lettering on the window would indicate.

And yet in 1895 it is a confectioners run by a Mrs Ruth Allsop who may have vacated the premises sometime in the year when it appears Mr William Smith extended his clothes business from nu 1 into number 3.

I suppose on one level it is really a bit of detail too far, but I am fascinated.

By 1901 Mr & Mrs Barrett still occupied the two shops but William Smith and Mrs Allsop had long gone although the place was still dealing in clothes sold by Ambrose and Sarah Lord.

For now I shall leave you with the caption to the picture which just refers to “road works.”

I am old enough to remember when work like this was accompanied be a nightwatchman who sat through the night beside his brazier protected from the elements in his hut.

It will have been a solitary job, punctuated by the visit of a passing police constable doing his rounds and the occasional late night reveller.

That said we are on Liverpool Road and I doubt there were many late night revellers down here, just a few railwaymen working the late shift at the goods depot further down the street.

Now whether any of them or Mr Barrett was into hair restorer I cannot say, but there will be a few who might well have been drawn in by the promise of a full set of restored hair.

It was being advertised on the wall of number 5 at 9d a bottle.

As someone who long ago lost enough to make a visit to the barber's a waste of time I do feel for those who driven by pride or the taunts of others might have succumbed.

There were plenty of "treatments" on the market many still made of dubious substances thrown together in the back yard of the shop and all which will have made no difference.


Location; Manchester





Picture; Liverpool Road, 1896, m02618, courtesy of Manchester Libraries, Information and Archives, 
Manchester City Council, http://images.manchester.gov.uk/index.php?session=pass

Standing up for Radical politics …………. in Didsbury, Chorlton, and Manchester

Now, we will never know just what most people in Didsbury thought of the moment when the Establishment flexed its muscles back in 1793 and burned an effigy of Thomas Paine.

Thomas Paine, 1792

It happened on the village green in front of the Old Cock and what is now the Didsbury Hotel and was the work of the Huntsman social club.  Thomas Paine had supported both the American and French Revolutions and written a series of books and pamphlets proposing a written constitution with a national assembly similar to that of the USA, the elimination of aristocratic titles and a wide-ranging set of social policies benefiting the poor and under privileged.

This made him unpopular with the Establishment and like other radicals he faced persecution for his ideas.

We know very little about the event which is referred to by one local historian who records that on January 28th members of the Hunt Club “entertained the populace with the burning of the effigy of Thomas Paine”. *

And even vaguer reference in that excellent compendium of all things to do with Manchester’s past which was published in 1885, by William Axton and merely records that, “The effigy of Paine was burnt by the populace, January”.

Didsbury village, 1853

The Manchester Guardian doesn’t cover the event, but there will be something somewhere on the event.

Of course, the period was supercharged with those who supported Tom Paine and saw in the French Revolution, the dawn of something new, exciting and mould breaking. ***

One of those was Thomas Walker, who lived at Barlow Hall and had a town house on South Parade which faces what is now Parsonage Gardens.

Despite having held the lofty office of Borough Reeve in Manchester, he was a radical, and had campaigned for the abolition of the Slave Trade, and with others organised the petition against the Trade.

All of which made him a target for those opposed to radical ideas and in particular the French Revolution.

And it was while he was staying at South Parade, in the December of 1792 that a mob attacked the house and Walker was forced to drive them off by discharging a pistol.

Thomas Walker, 1794

This was at the height of political debate over the issues of press freedom and the French Revolution. Writing later of the event he commented,
“Emboldened by drink and fired on by agitators, groups hostile to the radicals began to gather around the city.  Walker was in no doubt that this was pre-planned.  

 ‘Parties were collected in different public houses, and from thence paraded in the streets with a fiddler before them, and carrying board on which was painted with CHURCH and KING in large letters’ 

On four separate occasions a mob gathered outside South Parade, broke the windows and attempted to force their way in.  Supported by friends Thomas Walker was forced to fire into the air to disperse the crowds. 

The magistrates did nothing to prevent the events and while a “regiment of dragoons was in town, booted and under arms” and ready to disperse the rioters no order was given. 

As if to add insult to injury the main concern of the magistrates when they finally met Walker was that he should not fire at the crowd again if the mob returned!  These attacks had been matched by similar ones on the home of Priestly in Birmingham and in Nottingham.” ****

Walker survived both the attacks and was acquitted of treason, after which he retired to the new family home at Longford House off Edge Lane, where he died in February 1817 and was buried in the parish church on the green.

Leaving me just to reflect that for the "populace" of Didsbury, things got a little worse, because sometime between 1845 and 53, a Samuel Bethell, stole the village green upon which the effigy of Tom Paine had been burnt almost a half century before.

I don't yet know Mr. Bethell's politics, but I know he was the owner of the Gibraltar Iron Works on Poland Street in town, lived in a large house in Didsbury and also also owned a more modest beer shop which he called the Prince Albert.

But all of that and a remarkable map from 1821 of the Ring'oBells is for another time.

Location; Didsbury Chorlton, Manchester

Pictures; Thomas Paine, 1792, Thomas Walker. 1794, Didsbury showing the Church Inn and Old Cock, 1853, from the OS for Lancashire, 1841-53, courtesy of Digital Archives Association, http://digitalarchives.co.uk/

*Million, Ivor. R. A History of Didsbury, 1969, p100

**Axton, William, The Annals of Manchester, 1885, p120

*** “Bliss it was in that dawn to be alive
         But to be young was very heaven.”  Wordsworth, William

****Walker, Thomas, A Review of some of the events of the last five years, London 1794 page 23, Google edition page 194

Outside the Rising Sun with a bit of old Eltham circa 1890

The old Rising Sun Inn circa 1890

Now I am drawn to this picture of the old Rising Sun.

I have fond memories of spending evenings in the place when I was much younger and it was also a favourite of my late brother in law.

But of course this was the old Rising Sun which stood on the site of the present library and is the start of that little series which aims to reflect on what Eltham was like at the beginning of the 20th century just before the great changes transformed it from rural outpost to a suburb.

It dated back something like two hundred years and went with the development of the area by the Borough Council shortly after the turn of the last century.

The Smithy with the Rising Sun and Sun Yard, 1858-73

Along with the pub went Sun Yard, a coach building workshop, the smithy and “a number of quaint wooden buildings, including the coffee shop at the corner.”*

Of all of these I have become intrigued by Sun Yard which housed a collection of wooden cottages which were situated behind the inn and were approached by an archway formed by part of the inn buildings.

There were twenty of them in 1841 and perhaps another five a decade later.  We know who lived there what they did and the degree to which they were overcrowded and by the turn of the last century they were judged unfit and were demolished I guess at the same time as the Rising Sun.

And like the occupants of Sun Yard we can track the publicans from John Davison in 1841 to the widow Elizabeth Robinson ten years later and through the rest of that century.

Outside the Rising Sun

All of which will make a fascinating study in revealing just how often the occupants of Sun Yard like that of the inn keepers moved on or stayed put.  But that is for another time.

So we shall return briefly to our picture with the landlord standing outside, along with assorted carts whose drivers may well have been inside and the two boys drawn no doubt by the camera.

I don’t know the name of the landlord but I shall endeavour to find out, but I do know that the last blacksmith was a Mr Metcalfe and the smithy was in a dilapidated condition.

*Gregory, R.R.C., The Story of Royal Eltham, 1909

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 and detail from the OS map of Kent 1858-73