Reddish Newtown

This page is dedicated to the people of Reddish Newtown. Now officially, Newtown never existed. You will not find it on any map, because it was a name given to a collection of streets, by the people who lived there. I have to point out to people though, when they ask me, do I remember people, that I myself, never lived there. All the information and stories for the book came from other people, starting with my dad, Ted Kiernan.

Some of the pictures have come from Stockport Heritage Library archives, for which I am grateful. Other pictures have come from people and if any more come to light I will put them on these pages also and thanks also to those people who have allowed me to copy their pictures. In some cases I have restored them  and improved the quality of the image.

Reddish Newtown came about because of the building of a mill, Coronation Mill in 1847. When the mill was built, there were no houses, except for a few dwellings dotted around the mill. There were only two streets, Coronation Street and Brook Street, which became Bangor Street. It may have been so named because a brook ran down the side of it, which was probably culverted later, when the rest of the area was developed, into the streets which became known as Newtown.

Coronation Mill was owned by J & J Read, who originated in Portwood. Before the development of steam power, mills were sited near to a source of running water, such as the rivers Tame and Goyt. A weir constructed across the river, provided a head of water to power a waterwheel. A mill race, or 'leat' being constructed to carry water to the wheel. This was one reason why mills were sited on the valley floor. There are many examples of such 'leats' or 'races', including some which ran underground.

Stockport is riddled with tunnels, not just ones which were air raid shelters during the 2nd World War, but some far older, constructed to power different and sometimes competing mills in the town. There are accounts of conflicts between rival mill owners in the past, who sent men out to sabotage the efforts  of their rivals, in order to gain an advantage. If you are interested, you can see such accounts in the recently restored Heritage Centre, in the market place. If you go in the Market Place Castle yard, there is a plaque, with a picture of a waterwheel pit, which was discovered when the old Court House on Warren Street was being redeveloped. The water wheel was fed by just such a tunnel, from the River Goyt.

The Heritage Centre, is in the properties which once contained the 'Staircase Cafe'; So named, because it had a staircase, dating back to Tudor times. Sadly, the staircase was badly damaged, when someone set fire to the property. The staircase was lovingly restored, but of course, is not the original. I remember, as a kid, going in the old Staircase Cafe, with my mam, back in the 60s, with those old juke boxes on the wall,  which you put in an old 'tanner' to hear the pop tunes of the day, such as the 'Beatles' or the 'Rolling Stones', or 'Frank Ifield'. Add more to the list, if you want to !

Newtown Origins 

With the introduction of steam power, a mill could be constructed anywhere, but they still needed a source of water, to raise the head of steam. In the case of Coronation Mill and nearby Bankfield Mill, sometimes also known as 'Bankside Mill', the water was taken from the canal. The exhausted steam was then fed back into the canal. This meant that the water in the canal near to a mill was always warm and at these places, young lads would go swimming in the warm water. But the coppers would have you if they caught you swimming in it. So lads used to tie their clothes on their head with their belt and swim to the other side. Then they would give the coppers the old v-sign and scarper!

At these spots, there were goldfish, or carp sometimes a foot long and people used to fish for them. one of the things they used to do for bait, was to look under a dock-leaf for a blister where they would find a maggot. (Thanks to Thomas Duggan for this information.) Thomas was a friend and work colleague of Bernard Scott, local author of 'Heaton Norris Boy' and 'Heaton Norris Boy Goes To  Sea', as well as other stuff, such as poetry, an example of which was given to me by Jim Burgess, who lived in the street opposite my house. The poem summed up the character of 'Newtown', as well as Lancashire Hill and mentioned some family names, one of which was ours and I will put the poem in later. Sadly, Thomas died a while back, and thus ended our long association.

Also at these hot spots, there was a micro climate and seeds from tropical plants which had fallen from cotton bales, imported from places such as Egypt, were able to germinate. These plants attracted the attention of botanists, who travelled from far afield to see these foreign plants.

As well as powering the looms and all the other machinery which processed the cloth, the steam was also put to use in the  process from raw material to finished product. In earlier times, it was the woven cloth which was bleached. This involved pegging out the finished cloth, after it had been placed in hot vats of chemicals, on fields, using 'tenterhooks'. This was a lengthy process and a different way of processing the cloth shortened the production time considerably. Instead of treating the finished product, it was the raw material itself which was treated and steam was used in the process of removing the unwanted oils. 

The area was undeveloped at the time of the construction of the mill(s) and gradually, the area which eventually became known as Newtown was built. By 1895, all the streets which became Newtown were in place, but some of them had different names. I can only speculate that some were named after relatives of the owners of the mills, There being a Frances Street, a Frank Street, a John Street  and Samuel Grove. These became Kendall Street, in place of Frances and Frank. John Street became part of Ann Street, which was retained. Samuel Grove became Richmond Street. Bangor Street had not been named, but the top half, above the steps was called Buckley Street. Off Buckley Street was a Clarke Street, which became Croydon Street. There was also one other street, Cross Street, which on the later map was unnamed.

Interestingly, the whole area eventually became self-sufficient. There were lots of little corner shops, selling a variety of goods. There were four pubs along Sandy Lane, The Rowland Hill, The Albion, The Clarkes Arms (and Brewery) and The Golden Eagle. On the opposite side of Sandy Lane is St. Annes School, providing education for many of the children of Newtown and their children in turn. Further up on Greg Street, just of the top of the map, is St Mary's School, which Newtown children also attended. (See later picture)

                                                                                                                                               Newtown in 1848  

In the book, which I entitled 'Reddish Newtown-Life Below The Steps', I drew a line around what I believe was referred to as Newtown, to try and define the area, although it may have been just the streets which were referred to as such. The bend in Bangor Street was where the steps were. It was in fact, a wall across the street, with a set of steps up the side. The dwellings above the steps were more substantial buildings than the ones below, which were condemned as slum properties and demolished in the late 1960s/early 70s and with the demolitions went a way of life. It was, in effect, the destruction of a community; the people being scattered all over the town. Some went to other towns, others took the £10 passage to Australia. One family even went as far as New Zealand and you can imagine my surprise and delight when I received a phone call from there, requesting a copy of the book.

It was said 'If you lived at' top o't steps, you were posh' and as you can see from the picture below, the buildings are, in effect, semi-detached, as opposed to the terraced houses below.

                                Newtown in 1926

                                                            Bangor Street Steps

The street running across left to right is, of course, Kendall Street. The name over the door of the off-license, Mary Jackson. Note the lamp-post leaning drunkenly to one side, from children swinging on it, with ropes from banana boxes!

Look at the same scene nowadays, totally different. I know which picture has more character!

Looking down Bangor Street, from the top of the steps, you can see the kind of dwellings where, in the early days, families brought up as many as 13 children. This picture was probably taken some time in the 60s judging by the concrete lamp posts in place and the old VHF TV aerials.

In the background, you can see Bankfield (or Bankside) Mill, which at the time, was Halliday's Bleach and Dye Works.

There were by all accounts, lots of little shops in Newtown. As Bernard Scott said in his poem which he kindly allowed me to use in the book " Tho' trams went up and then went down, One didn't need to go to town. Every kind of shop was there, Selling every kind of ware."

Below, Kerr's papershop, formerly Bancroft's. The original photograph had a completely white sky, so I put some clouds on it for effect.

Below, another little shop on Bangor Street

Up on Sandy Lane, there were the four aforementioned pubs, where Newtown residents took their refreshment. Of course, pubs were very different places in those days. On a Friday night, there would be the piano going in the corner and someone would get up singing and everyone had a good night. Then there were the special and historic occasions, such as here, on the day of the Queen's coronation, outside The Albion, with the regulars posing for the camera, some in fancy dress. If you can't fight, wear a big hat!

Over the door, the name of the licensee, 'Ellen Rennison', could just be made out, in the original photograph.

The Clarke's Arms of course, had its own brewery. In fact in older times, pubs would brew their own beer. Clarke's supplied other pubs around the area as well as their own pub. Here we see one of the dray wagons being loaded for the morning's round, in the brewery yard.

These pictures are courtesy of Helen Smith, whose father, Joe Farndell, was one of the draymen there.

Of course, if you work anywhere, you eventually get a nickname and Joe was called 'Fangle' or 'Fangles' by his workmates. Actually, I think he looks like Ronnie Barker, Well. doesen't he? What's the car in the background, it would give us a date. Is it a Wolesey? don't ask me ! I'm not an expert.

Thanks to an e-mail from Helen, sent by Steve Yates, the identity of the car is now known, it was a 'Standard Vanguard', circa 1960-62. The Lorry is a 'Seddon', from 1963.

But a night in a pub was a welcome relief for some, after a hard day's graft. A chance to let down your hair, if you had any! Here we see some of the regulars in the Rowland Hill, enjoying a pint.

And another! Absolutely no doubt where this was taken, the name is on the window!

Thirsty work this drinking!

The Landlady! No nonsense please!

And a chance for the ladies to do a bit of gossipping! Remember, loose lips sink ships! Is that Minnie Caldwell there, with a bottle of stout?

Of course, there is a knack to pulling a good pint. No electric pumps here, good old hand pumps. Note the old till, from the days when we had 240 pennies to the pound!

Now then, on my travels, I inevitaby meet people who 'pull me up' about Newtown and they give me information and names. One such is Jim McTeggart, who once resided at 12, Hawkins Street.

He mentioned a few names, 'Billy Beswick', of Weston Street as well as 'Eddie Kelly'. Another was 'Jimmy Simcock', (no address given), but another he mentioned, 'Pete (Ginger) Clegg', of Kendall Street. If you know any of these names, please get in touch and I will  try and find out where they may be, but of course, they may be no longer with us. 

One of the things I would love to do with this web site, is to put old friends in touch with one another, but only if that is what they want. If there are people out there who would like to get in touch and don't mind giving their contact details, I would gladly pass them on, if it is possible. But I understand that some may not want to.

Temperence

At one time, there were no public houses between Sandy Lane and Houldsworth Square. This was because the land was owned by the Greg family, who were strict churchgoers, like Joseph Salt, who founded 'Saltair' and they were dead set against the 'evils of drink'. Being well meaning people though, they considered the social needs of their employees, so they set up a 'tea rooms'. When the Gregs relinquished ownership of the land, the former tea rooms, originally a small house, which was the club at one time, was later demolished and built into the eventually became the club we know today, as Reddish Working Mens Club, modern club. (I hope to put a picture of the old house here eventually, if I can come across one.)

Only in the 1960s was work begun on the only pub between Sandy Land and Houldsworth Square, the 'Carousel'. I remember work being commenced on the conversion of one of the big houses at the side of the road and I passed it many times on my way to Mile End School, as well as the four pubs, which I had no reason to pay any mind to at the time.

More or less opposite the club, a little further on, was St. Mary's School and many of the sons and daughters of Newtown attended the school. As you ascend Greg Street from the Sandy Land end, the road rises steadily, then levels out just beyond the club, before turning right at an angle. On thing I have observed at the brow of the hill, where the road levels off, is the alignment of it. Looking back down Greg Street, the road is more or less, line of sight with the 'Cage' at Lyme Park. The Cage, of course, was where poachers and other miscreants were placed, prior to the dispensing of justice. It was a kind of above ground dungeon, or prison cell. In this picture, it is a little indistinct, just a faint white blob, but it lies between the trees just above the tops of the houses and the distant trees on the hillside beyond. But it can be seen quite clearly from the actual location. It may have just been a coincidence that it was thus aligned, but an interesting alignment nonetheless.

In earlier times, penalties were quite severe. A man could be hung for the theft of a sheep for example. The cage can only be seen on clear days of course. But it is as if someone has taken a bearing from the highest point, to the cage, as if to remind would-be miscreants where they might end up! 

St Anne's and St. Mary's Schools were quite small affairs, compared to modern day comprehensives, such as Reddish Vale. This reflects, perhaps, the population at the time and the fact that the area was quite rural in nature. The modern day houses just off Reddish Road had not been built and there was open land between St. Mary's School and Reddish Road.

This can be seen in the following photograph of a class at St. Mary's in 1934. Look in the background and you can just make out a tram on Reddish Road in the distance and the open fields just behind the class.

St Mary's School class, 1934. (Photo, courtesy Francis Bingham)

St Anne's stood where the present day car sales forecourt is and you can judge the size of the school from the size of the forecourt. St Mary's is less distinct, having had private houses built on the site of it, but it may be judged perhaps from the length of the wall in front of the properties.

Although Newtown undoubtedly was a close-knit community, and in a manner of speaking life was improving for its inhabitants, the dwellings were in poor condition. As Stan Fisher said when I interviewed him, "They were 100 years old and nearly falling down". Many of the houses were infested with bugs. Not surprisingly seeing there was a tip just behind the place on Whitehill, although many people deny they had them, bugs were a problem for some. Stan said "What people used to do, was go to Bancroft's Paper Shop, and buy a pint of parrafin, then they'd take it home, and stand the bed legs in tin lids, and pour the parrafin in, to stop the bugs climbing into the beds!" It shows how bad things were and the measures some had to take to deal with the conditions.

On Whitehill however, some dwellings were constructed which in their way were a vast improvement on the old back-to-back houses of Newtown. During the war of 1939-45, men were away fighting the Nazis. When the war ended, they were promised 'homes fit for heroes'. Unfortunately, this never happened. However, an attempt was made at Whitehill to build better quality houses for Reddish folk, and many who lived in them said they were better than the old houses they had lived in in Newtown. These were the prefabs. Prefabricated houses, made to a design of sections made in a factory and assembled on site. It seemed like a good idea at the time, easily and quickly assembled, and at the time a good idea to solve an urgent problem, how to accomodate more people.

The solution, albeit bearing in mind that they were an improvement on the old houses, turned out to be less than satisfactory, and the prefabs disappeared into history. But what were they like? When I interviewed her for the book, Betty Dowdes (nee Hunt) described them. Although she never lived there as far as I am aware, but she no doubt had friends who did. She said of them " I remember when they built the prefabs on Whitehill, and they were much better than the houses we lived in. They had a built in fridge, and they were quite nice at the time".

I wanted pictures of the prefabs, but try as I might, I couldn't find any. But it seems I was looking in the wrong place. I was trying to get pictures of the prefabs themselves, but I didn't realise, people don't take pictures of such dwellings on their own, rather they took pictures of sons and daughters, fathers and mothers etc. Hence the following which I discovered at St. Mary's Heritage. The first is of Sandra Miller, who helps out at the Heritage Centre, taken in 1952. and the second is her father, Bert Miller. The pictures are photocopies of photocopies, a little indestinct and washed out perhaps, but they show the prefabs in the background, and gives and idea of the way they were constructed. The prefabs were said to have been constructed by Italian prisoners of war, although some say they were German. I favour the former myself, although it could have been either, or both.