Historian Andrew Simpson enjoys a stroll through old Urmston.
Andrew Simpson remembers Manchester’s first brass band.
Author and journalist Tessa Boase sheds an original – and surprising – light on the lives of Manchester’s heroic, campaigning women.
Labour won a 30,000 majority in the last election, but the red flag didn’t always fly in Chorlton. Andrew Simpson looks back.
I wonder what an ardent Conservative or Liberal voter, born in the Chorlton of the late 19th century, might have made of that result.
The power and influence their parties once held is reflected in two of ‘New Chorlton’ landmark buildings of the time, both set up by subscription.
The Conservative Club (Wilbraham Road) opened in 1892. With its public hall and impressive clock tower, it marked the Tories out as a force to contend with and, for a large part of the 20th century, Chorlton returned Conservative MPs and councillors.
We had a Tory MP between 1918 and 1923, and then from 1931 until Fred Silvester lost his seat to Keith Bradley in 1987.
The Liberals may well have taken heart that political fortunes can fall as well as rise, so their decision to convert Lauriston House (Manchester Road, pictured above) into a permanent home for the Liberal Association was a sound one.
It opened in 1897, admidst a fanfare of optimism. Nationally, however, the years around the opening of the club were not good for the Liberals. They lost the 1895 and 1900 elections and would not return to power until their landslide victory – and absolute majority – under Henry Campbell-Bannerman, in 1906.
Locally they fared better, both on the old Withington District Council and on Manchester City Council (after our incorporation into the city in 1904). By the 1920s, it was reported that: “There are few wards in which Conservative and Liberal opinion is so nicely balanced. Of the eight elections that have been fought in Chorlton since 1920, four have been won by the Conservatives and four by the Liberals.” (‘The Chorlton By-Election’, Manchester Guardian, December 18, 1928).
By the early 1930s the Liberals faced a growing challenge from Labour, which split their vote. They saw their sitting councillor, Lady Shena Simon, lose to the Conservatives in 1933.
Labour wouldn’t win a council seat in Chorlton until 1986, defeating the Conservative candidate by a significant margin. And while they failed to win in 1987, they consolidated their position, winning all three seats in 1988. Not that they had it all their own way: the Liberal Democrats held two of the three Chorlton seats between 2008 and 2011.
In the last few years, the Liberal Democrat share of the vote has fallen, and in the years since 2006, the Conservatives have never won more than 7% of the total vote locally.
The Liberal Club quietly passed away and the building became the Lauriston Club.
The Conservative Association lingered on but finally called it a day and their grand building, with its Public Hall was sold to a developer.
It is a reversal of fortune matched across south Manchester, leaving a political landscape that our visitors from the political past would not recognise.
Next time: the story of the Labour Party in Chorlton
Historian Andrew Simpson goes for a stroll in Heaton Mersey, along the Didsbury Road of 1848, to see how the passage of time can erase the industrial blots on our landscape.
Historian Andrew Simpson goes for a stroll along the Didsbury Road of 1848 and sees how the passage of time can erase the industrial blots on our landscape.
Now, as daft as that might sound, it is possible to recreate such a walk using census returns, the OS map for the period and the tithe documents.
It’s the tithe map in particular which has helped me with this imaginary stroll, past St John’s and down to the bleach works. The map, based on a survey undertaken by Charles Crawley in 1848, details the ownership of the land; the tenants who worked it and the use to which it was put.
In total, the township of Heaton Mersey consisted of 2,108 acres, of which only 1,840 were subject to a tithe payment to the church. Of this 1,840 acres, 670 were farmed as arable and 980 were meadow and pasture, leaving 100 acres for buildings, 50 for roads and 40 for railways.
The map describes the size of each field and its rateable value, along with who owned or rented the properties spread out across the township. Armed with the map, I know that as I make my way east along the Didsbury Road of 1848, I’ll pass by a mix of meadow and arable land with the odd little orchard. The Griffin is already there, but St John’s church is being built.
And if I so choose, I can wander down the lane to the assorted bleach works.
The thing about industrial archaeology is that it can turn up in the most unexpected places and come as a total surprise to people living nearby. Sites employing hundreds of people, which once hummed with purpose and had a history stretching back centuries can vanish, leaving almost no trace.
They soon become all but forgotten and their rediscovery can be a revelation. What helps is to have someone in the know, and David Harrop is one of those people. On a recent expedition around Heaton Mersey he came across a mystery bell which may have belonged to the bleach works.
Today, standing beside the cottages of Park Row and Park View, it’s hard to picture what must have been a noxious and noisy part of our industrial heritage. At the time of our walk, they were bleaching, dying and printing cloth: one of dozens of cotton processing and finishing plants along the banks of the Mersey. The river must have been lifeless and filthy with pollutants.
The river is cleaner nowadays: the fish have returned and the site of so much human activity has been reclaimed by nature.
There will be plenty who remember it as a going concern and some who may even have memories of working there, well into the twentieth century. All of which matters greatly; especially given the onward creep of new development. In time, the site will once again be occupied by new buildings, but the stories of those who worked at the former bleach works should be preserved.
All of which just leaves me to thank David Harrop, who has an impressive collection of memorabilia from two world wars and the history of the Post Office, some of which is on permanent display in the Remembrance Lodge in Southern Cemetery. Picture; detail of the 1848 tithe map of Heaton Mersey, compiled by Charles Crawley, 1848 and redrawn by Frank and Teretta Mitchell, 1978
A campaign is under way to celebrate the memory of a courageous Chorlton woman who helped fight fascism in Spain and received an OBE for her work during World War II. Andrew Simpson tells her story.
Temperatures rise as the WoManchester Statue Project approaches a new milestone. The man behind the campaign, Councillor Andrew Simcock, reveals the latest news and gets close to the action in a metal foundry.
Historian Andrew Simpson gets into the spirit of South Manchester’s Christmas past.
Historian Andrew Simpson takes a trip into town, but you won’t find him hanging round the Arndale. We’re going to Pool Fold.