SIGN OF THE TIMES, THE WRITINGS ON THE WALL

They have re-designed the set, the Old players have left, the World I once lived in, is once more bereft.(On the Corner by the Wanderer (FOX INN) in 2008)

(The Same Stage in 1974)

When this picture was taken in 1974, as well as the shadow cast by the sun, from above the new subway, a shadow of doom had already been cast over the fate of North Street, it was already a cul -de -sac, the ring road saw to that! And in the next decade the Molineux ground will extend and all these buildings on this west side will disappear.

Amongst the other properties shown on the photo is the solitary building on the right the Feathers Inn. Not the original, for there had been a licensed house of that name on this site since medieval times, this one seen here and still standing today, was built around 1913.

Opposite the Feathers amongst the row of terraces was a former Pub, The Cottage Spring, de-licensed in the 1930's it then became the residence of Charles Harrington and his family.
I would just like to bring your attention to two major players who took centre stage here in North Street for many years Jimmy O'Connor and the families of Charles and Tom Harrington.

With Molineux Street running off to the left, the flat iron shaped, shop on the corner of North Street was the Cobbler's business of father and son, J. O'Connors.

(Cartoon of Jimmy O'Connors May 1945)

Jimmy O'Connor Senior for many years was the cobbler for Wolverhampton Wanderer's F.C.

(Picture of the shed in 1974)

Now in the 1940's both Charles and Tom Harrington, sign writers, had their family business and work place in a large shed in Nursery Street. Tom Harrington's family home was across the street opposite, and Charles Harrington for a time lived at No.14, next door to the shed.

During the summer months just after the War, they would have the front doors to the shed wide open, and you could easily see inside. What a sight met your eyes it was a grand picture show to rival any art gallery. The Harrington brothers, along with their sons were all prolific artists. They would be seated on large stools, brushes in hand adding vibrant colours to Inn signs of all descriptions. Castles, Dragons, Coats of Arms, Kings and Queens , past nobility and animals of all kinds could be seen including many Red Lions, and when finished freshly painted they would be hung to dry adorning the walls.

Later the completed signs would be carefully placed on their two wheeled cart, normally used for carrying their brushes and ladders, and these works of art would then be transported around town to enrich the frontages of public houses owned over the years by the different breweries.

(Picture of Cottage Spring in 1974)

In 1936 the Old Cottage Spring in North Street was put up for sale and Charles Harrington Senior bought it, and converted it to a private residence and he told me for years afterwards we had men walking in, thinking it was still a pub.

Charles junior took this photo of the old converted pub in 1974 shortly before it came down with the rest of the block , it shows his wife Bette on the step with his mother, his father had passed away a few years earlier.

(The Sir Tatton Sykes early 1960's)

I recall an incident regarding their cart and a certain William Butler's public house. The pub in question was the Sir Tatton Sykes seen here on the corner of Lichfield Street and Fryer Street.

Charles Senior and Junior had arrived on the Monday to work on the lettering around the frontage. As they were to continue the work again here next day, Charles senior suggested to his son that they could leave the cart, ladders, paints and brushes overnight in Walsh Graham's Timber yard, which was across the road on the corner of Railway Street; this was common practice for Charles when they were in that part of town.

As luck would have it, young Charles decided against this and pushed the cart and contents back to the shed in Nursery Street. Which turned out to be something he would never regret or forget, for that evening on April 4th 1949, Walsh Graham's Timber yard could be seen on fire and lightning up the night sky as far away as Bilston.

(Local sign writer does his bit for the film industry)

In the summer of 1956, Charles Senior came out of retirement when his expertise was required by a film company, working on location at Wolverhampton Airport.

The film in production was "Man in the Sky" starring Jack Hawkins and Elizabeth Sellars. During shooting a scene from the film, the freight plane Hawkins (the pilot), was flying was damaged.

The Harrington's, Charles in particular, had the contract to re-paint it with the new identification code on the wings and "Silver City" on the fuselage. Charles is pictured brush in hand, sitting on the wing of the repaired plane.

(Fun at the Swancote Swimming Pool in 1950)

A regular treat for me at that time was a summer Sunday trip to Swancote with the lads from Harringtons Weightlifting Club.

For the most part, youths in the early 1950's got rid of all that animal tension in a more athletic (and for onlookers sometimes silly) way, but always in good fun.

Tom Harrington's eldest son Sid can be seen bending forward in the picture. Sid was an Olympic standard weightlifter at the time. Here he is attempting to support three of us on his shoulders. His cousin Charles was directly on Sids shoulders, next up was a fellow whose name escapes me, and up on top was yours truly (whose muscles have yet to come out of their shells). As you can see this attempt failed.

The families of Charles and Tom Harrington certainly enriched the lives of us kids growing up around the Londes. They always had time for you, and as for myself, the times I spent watching them at work and the time spent with the local Weightlifing Club started by Tom, in Nursery Street, are tucked away in my head as some of the best memories of my childhood.

SHOW ME A PICTURE AND I'LL TELL YOU A STORY

Now it may be the closeness I had with my parents and grandparents as a child that gave me this fondness for looking back at my life in Wolverhampton (Woffledom) . For it was through their environment I.E. (the centre of town) and their active life there, I came to touch the lives of so many people from all walks of life.

Now the other day I had an interesting comment on another post from Mrs June Head (Nee Dwight). June said "I lived at 27 Nursery St (1958-1976) - Doreen (Howe) was our neighbour (I remember her as Cooke) This site stirred up some great memories for me- wonderful!".

Well, the fact that June remembered my aunt Doreen brought to my recollection a photograph I had recieved from another lady who used to live in Nursery Street. Carol Baugh gave me this lovely photo of little girl standing in a back garden adjacient to my Grandfathers house overlooking a North Street of the 1960’s.

(Is this little girl you June? )

Now up until today I had never made contact with this little girl and she may not even recollect having the her photo taken; but anyway June this is for you, and I am so glad you got in touch because as you can see this is not just my story its yours, as well as many other Wufflers (Wulfrunians) scattered far afield now, but whose family tree once grew in and around St Peter’s Church, and our roots as well as theirs are still entangled beneath that old town we once knew.


When I look at any picture; such as this one of this charming little girl, my eyes seek out every little detail for information. I focus on the group of local shops, that take up the background built around seventy years prior to this shot. What stories and what memories do they conjure up for people of different ages that once frequented them? Maybe you have similar photographs dipicting another personal stories, perhaps from other localities like Blakenhall, Horseley Fields, Brickkiln Croft etc...

For my part my this story would start during the War. Mr Thomas’s grocers was on the corner of Dawson Street, it's the first one with the blind in the picture. We only used the shop occasionally as we were registered, for groceries with Kidsons, higher up North Street.

Next door the other blind covered the window of Mrs Williams’s greengrocers. Her son was Jack Williams, who married Mr and Mrs Adey’s daughter May from across the road at the Colonel Vernon. Unfortunatley when Jack retired and was living on his own, he lost his life in a house fire at his home in Bright Street in 1974.

As you can probably see from his sign, J.T.Leach had the butchers shop. Mr leach bought the shop just before the War, and as you can see was still there in the 1960’s. The previous owner was a Mr Spicer I believe, who met with a fatal road accident after his retirement when he was knocked down and killed near the Fox at Shipley.

The ladies hairdresser’s was in my day a cycle agents and repair business the owner a Mr Trespass. The shop next door that is covered with adverts, was Piggotts Newsagents; probably the busiest shop in the block. Betty Piggott, their daughter later married a chap called Barratt and they were the proprietors on its demise.

Finally the last shop in the block was always known as Pagets, a small confectionary business. Mrs Pagets daughter was called Anne, and married former Wolves player Mickey Lill after he left the Wolves in the 1960s. She went with him to live in South Africa were he died in 2004.

THE COLONEL VERNON I REMEMBER IT WELL

(Our tree marks the spot "The Colonel" died in 1960)

The Civic Centre today looms in the back ground above an under pass beneath the ring road while the University dominates the east side and the Molineux Stadium the west and the T sign in the foreground say’s it all. This is the new sanotized North Street all character now sucked from it.

But strange ghosts still walk this street for those with eyes to see. Wellington, Gladstone, Henry Vernon, no not the famous men themselves, but apparitions of the old time managers and tenants of the noted houses whose pub signs in North Street and its continuing road celebrated these noble men. These long serving victuallers who ran their houses with an iron fist when stormy and lawless vitality was a by-word, some becoming legends in the town. One such man was Edward (Ted Adey) at the “Colonel Vernon”.

( Another gap in our life in North Street)

There was a gaping hole left in North Street and in the community itself when the end of the 1950’s brought about the demolition of The Colonel Vernon. It had served the local residents with Butlers Beer for as long as anyone could remember The licensee on its demise being Ted Adey. Ted arrived at the "Colonel" in 1912 from the Duke of York, in Little Brickkiln Street.and stayed there for the remainder of its forty four year life.

("Ah Yes, I remember it Well')

The Colonel Vernon was typical of the small town local’s of the day, with two public rooms either side a central passage.

For awhile in the years just after the War each Sunday lunchtime I would call and fetch my fathers regular pint of beer, in the old whisky bottle; he kept for such an occasion. You entered the passage from North Street, and on your left was the small Snug or parlour , which at 1 o’clock you would see seated a few chaps reading the Sunday papers and the same couple of old biddy’s with their milk stout or half of mild enjoying a little respite. Opposite across the passage was the bar which would be filled to capacity with men enjoying a pint before their Sunday dinner.
The hatch to the outdoor servery was a little further along the passage from the bar entrance and was serviced by who ever was behind the bar at that time.

At the end of the passage during the 1930’s my aunt recalls the Adey’s having a parrot hanging on a perch he used to say,” Yow 'ere agin?” or “Gon' a' one Ted”; he was a great attraction for those waiting at the outdoor. When it came my turn Mr or Mrs Adey would take my bottle fill it with the aid of a tundish from the tap, and seal the top with a sticky label (A lawful measure required to serve some one underage). But like any curious kid of the day, I always had a little taste on my way home.

(Ted Adey pictured here with his wife Ethel and their two children at the Colonel)

Ted Adey had this little game he used to play with us youngsters visiting the pub. On a hook hanging beneath the bar counter he had a bunch of picture cards, he would look at the card, and then at you, and mutter something which always seemed to get a laugh from those alongside you at the time. Later I found out why this was a source of regular amusement.

(Do you recognise this man?)

You see a general practice at the time that Ted took over the Colonel was that a check was kept on habitual drunkards, each public house was circulated with a separate card relating to each offender, this card largely resembled a passport. At the top were two photos of the offender - One taken full face and the other the profile - Below was the name, address, and occupation, plus, a full description and any distinguishing marks. Of course this included both sexes. Even though were armed with these documents - the bartenders still had to keep a sharp eye open, as there was a heavy penalty for serving anyone, (men or women) so blacklisted, with intoxicating liquor.

THE FOUR HOVELS

No. 26 Nursery Street was the house my Grandparents moved to; the end house in the street overlooking an area of the Londes which had been turned into waste ground at the start of the demolition of North Street in the late 1950's. But for at least 100 years prior to the end of the first World war it was the site of four small one roomed houses and the Colonel Vernon Pub fronting North Street.

(Anti-clockwise from back right we have my Aunts Francis, Betty, Josie, my cousin Mary-Lou and my aunt Doreen)

Here is a picture of my four Aunts and my cousin, photographed in 1931 above the four Hovels in the Londes.

(1875 Map Showing The Four Hovels in the “Londes" )

To gain access to these back-to-back houses below my Grandads abode, you had to descend a flight of steps which led directly from the Londes into a courtyard. My father recalling an Irish family that lived in the court told me of a visit to the Mulraney’s; he told me that you had to enter through the single door into the one and only downstairs room, there was no other entrance. Inside there was a large open fireplace, no cooker only the open fire, and in the corner a sink and tap. There was a sparsely filled cupboard in the recess of the fireplace, a scrub topped table, one old armchair and a couple of wooden ones tucked in under the table. From this one room, stairs led to a single room above to the familys only sleeping are with the only form of lighting in the home, candles or paraffin lamps. A little way from the houses were the communal toilet facilities and the shared cold water tap. These were the entire facilities for a families who lived in the Londes.

These few hovels were left as waste ground in the mid 1920's and remained so.

OUR TREE STILL GROWS IN NORTH STREET

(Plan of the “Londes” circa 1870)

Although housing was well established on the east side, it was mostly nurseries and gardens at the lower half of North Street.Now notice the line of the wall marked as "Jack’s spot" on this map, which was seen in 1870 as a ten foot wall that backed the lower yard of the terraced house in North Street.

(Jacks Spot Up Against the Remains of the Original Wall in 2009)

This is my youngest grandson Jack Howe standing in front of the wall. It still stands at around 5ft high today in 2009 the foreground now filled with a grassy slope down to street level. In the background, situated behind the Feathers pub today stands the College of Art, built in the late 1960’s on this ancient area which once backed on to the Deanery hence the name Deanery Row.

(Rear of Houses in Deanery Row Circa 1952)

During the 1840’s and 50’s when England offered a lifeline to those facing starvation at home as the result of the terrible Irish Potato famine; Wolverhampton saw a great influx of Irish Families. Many ended up in this area bounded by Stafford Street and North Street. One such Irishman was Patrick Egan, my Grandmothers Grandfather. He never spoke a word of English and died a short while after arriving in Wolverhampton. His son Michael Egan, raised a large family in Lawyers Field which adjoined Deanery Row. My grandmother Catherine (Kate Egan) was their eighth child, she was born there in 1884.

(My Grandparents house,on the left above the steps Circa 1960)

My grandfather John Howe’s family originated from the Walsall Street area. He met Kate Egan through her brother, whom he had served with in South Africa during the Boar War. Although Catherine was Catholic, they married at St Georges Church which was Anglican. They decided to live close to her mother in Lawyers field, and later as their family increased in size decided to move to a larger house close by, again just off the Londes at No 26 Nursery Street. No. 26 was the end house in the street and it overlooked four smaller one bedroom houses in the Londes, and the rear of the Colonel Vernon public house.

NEMESIS

No. 2 on the map - Albert Marston, Wellington Works North Street.

During the last War they turned out thousands of hand grenades but prior to that they were Lock Manufacturers. To give you an idea how important a part they played in Wolverhampton commerce; it was claimed by them in 1961 that 10% of all new houses built in the country last year had their locks and door furniture made solely by the Marston Lock company.

Now less than twenty years later Marstons have since vacated the building, and it stands derelict on the corner of Birchfield Street; solemly awaiting demolition along with the rest of the properties in North Street, all of Dawson Street on the left, and Birchfield Street on the right. Within ten years all of the buildings in the area would be gobbled up by the extensions to the Molineux Grounds.

(The Marstons Lock Building mid 1970s - the final countdown)

For twenty years - starting in 1955, the area surrounding Stafford Street and North Street has been forever undergoing re-construction, and now, here in 1978 probably the last resident of Nursery Street - a quiet cul-de-sac in between the two, is awaiting the final outcome.

The bottom house, on the left hand side of Nursery Street during the last war, was occupied by a Mr Fisher. He was known as Bunkeye to us kids, because of his affliction; he had a cockeye.
Mr Fisher was night watchman at the aforementioned Marston's Lock factory which in 1941 turned over to Ammunition Production. The factory was making Mills Bombs and although it was situated just a few yards from the bottom of our street, what few stray bombs that fell on Wolverhampton never affected life in Nursery Street.

(Echoes of the Third Reich are finally heard- 1978)

But now thirty years later it came! What the war had failed to do to us, the peace was about to accomplish. On her doorstep at No 29 Nursery Street (not unlike an unfortunate Berliner in 1945, awaiting the Allied Armies advance, and the total destruction of her once great city), stands the forlorn figure of Mrs Eva Roe, and her faithful German shepherd dog.

All alone now, her husband long gone, and son Trevor living away. She is probably now the only resident left in this once well appointed Victorian terrace.
Eva, has stood and watched the destruction of Vincent Street, Dawson Street, and Birchfield Street and still looking West, instead of seeing the advancing American's, she gazes across what was once North Street with anxiety as construction workers move on to the derelict ground.

This area will soon become the site for the building of the new John Ireland stand. Heralding the redevelopment of the Molineux, and the building of the Asda Supermarket.

The end is near Eva, but don’t worry! The Russians aren’t coming from the East along Stafford Street. The new University - Polytechnic, is racing to occupy this ground, and you will be found a new home. All that will be left of your happy times spent in the shadow of St Peters, will be your memories.

RED CROSS STREET SCHOOL

(Red Cross Street School)

No matter what age you are, you never forget the place of your birth or your first school. Number 1 on our Map of North Street - Red Cross Street School.

The headline above an article in the Express and Star from 1939 stated... CLASSROOM or FAIRYLAND?.. and it related to the fact that Wolverhamptons first Nursery School got underway in February of that year and was thought by some to be going into fairyland mode; when they actually taught a class of twenty, four old children, to behave with “sweet obedience” instead of naughtiness, being managed without threats or raised voices, and combing their hair and cleaning their teeth without protest.

Disbelieving mums only had to take a peek into the class at Red Cross Street School to see the children put into an environment which gave them surroundings and conditions to develop their minds and bodies .

Some said the new system was encouraging mothers to shelve their responsibilities - while others thought it was giving the child a good start in life.

Now you may have come from around north Street and had this good start in life .. Whatever I hope this little tale takes you back a bit?

(Aerial View of Red Cross Street School - centre foreground)

On the above photograph Birchfield Street is immediately behind the School and runs from Left from North Street to the right, where it joins with Molineux Street. As you can see from the picture North Street and Molineux Street at that time formed a triangle, at the apex of which stood The Fox Inn (The Wanderer). The base line of this triangle was Red Cross Street in which the front entrance to the School stood.

On the corner of North and Birchfield Street, was Marstons Lock Factory, which at the time of my story were busy making Mills Hand Grenades for the War effort. One hundred yards further along North Street was the entrance to the Londes at the bottom of Camp Street. the Londes led up to my home in Nursery Street.


This sets up the Scene for my Story -
On my 1st day at Red Cross Street School there was a Police Escort for me.

October 1941. Great Britain was two years into the War with Germany, evacuees were arriving in town, Air-raid shelters were being delivered to our streets but these issues did not concern me that day at No. 11 Nursery Street Wolverhampton.

(Evacuees from the east end of London, billeted in Marsh Lane, Fordhouses)

(Anderson Air Raid Shelters being delivered by the Great Western Railway)

Dad was off somewhere at work, mom was upstairs in bed, (poorly I thought), and with two of my aunts and Mrs Bott from next door flitting about , all this strange commotion coupled with the thought of leaving our cosy kitchen to go somewhere I’d never been, was making me really upset.

Today was to be my first taste of School and the task of escorting me on that first day fell to our kindly next door neighbor Mrs Bott. A good natured lady , with a lovely Irish brogue.

(Mrs Bott cleans up the Backyard at No. 10 Nursery Street)

Off to school. At a quarter to nine with a certain amount of unease, my coat, scarf and gas mask on my back we left for Red Cross Street School. Down our street along the Londes and into North Street.

(Map of North Street)

Although the route took less than three minutes to walk, it was a dangerous one for there was the busy North Street to cross; so at the top of Birchfield St. in the front of Marston’s Lock Factory , there stood a Police constable, manning the school crossing, which in those days was the duty of the local force.

(A Typical School Crossing Scene of the Day)

When we arrived at the School, I was left with a few others in the care of Miss Duncan the Headmistress. She did her best to dispel my feeling of nervousness, but as soon her back was turned I left the School and made my way back home.

Now I don't know whether it was because I’d crossed the busy road on my own, or because she had other things to do, but Mrs Bott wasn't very pleased having to take me back to School once more.

(Looking up North Street from the bottom of the Londes 1939)

Neither was the constable, who at this time had left the crossing and was making his way up North Street on the way back to his station in Red Lion Street.

"Back we go," He said to Mrs Bott “Ill see to him,” and took my hand. We crossed North Street again then down Birchfield Street and into the infants School.

(Looking down Birchfield St, the Marstons Building on the left, the School on the right 1970's)

After explaining to Miss Duncan, the cause of my anxiety and the circumstances at my home, which had been told to him by Mrs Bott, he left.

("The Copper & Miss Duncan" Cartoon courtesy of Paul Howe )

I cant remember much about the rest of that day at school except I feel as though I must have enjoyed it. And the reason for all the concern at home that day was on account of the birth of my first sister, Mary.