John Harpers’ Herald History

 

The Tamworth Heritage Trust feels privileged to have John Harper as its Chairman.  Many of you will know that John is the Assistant Editor of the Tamworth Herald and each week he features his own column entitled “John Harper’s Herald History”, which is hugely popular, and sometimes controversial.  The column is a constant reminder to the powers that be, that Tamworth’s heritage was not treated with the respect it deserves.

 

John writes with a passion and it is felt that this website would benefit from some of the articles from John column.  If you have any questions you would like to ask John, please feel free to email us and we will get answers to you by return. 

 

We hope you enjoy this stroll around Tamworth’s past in the eyes of John Harper.

 

A SAD LOOKING MARKET STREET, 1967

 

Preparations for the Tamworth Carnival of 1967 were well underway when this fascinating, but very sad photograph was taken by Herald photographer Paul Barber.  These centuries old buildings in Market Street had suffered appalling neglect and were about to be obliterated as Tamworth raced headlong into a period of planning madness that would tear the heart out of the town’s historic centre.  Who would believe that the mangled building in the centre of the above picture, it is little more than an ugly hole, was once one of the proud old inns of Tamworth.  Named after the farmers’ practice of meeting in the bar to assess corn prices before trading in the market. 

 

The Corn Exchange Inn stood in the shadow of Thomas Guy’s Town Hall.  Closed as a pub in 1930, the premises were utilised during the war years as a clothes and blanket collection point, run by the WRVS for bomb damaged families.  However, the buildings ground floor was hideously gutted to provide access to a makeshift car park at the rear.  The narrow door-way on the right lead into the original Middle Entry, and ancient narrow passageway that wound its way into Church Street, emerging near another lost watering hole, The Wheatsheaf.  To the right, is the Clifton Cycle Accessory shop and to the left Cooper’s Wallpaper and paint store, which back in the 1920’s had been occupied by Charlie Smith who manufactured and sold furniture.  Photographer, Paul Barber captured the scene for posterity soon after Coopers moved out.  They relocated to the Gungate Precinct.  The picture shows their old shop being used as the Carnival Office.  The Bon Marche clothes store and the modern Middle Entry entrance now stand on the site.

 

MORE THAN A TOUCH OF
CORONATION STREET 1967 

There’s more than a touch of TV’s Coronation Street about the look of this old Tamworth street.  Today it serves as little more than a traffic thoroughfare leading motorists towards the multi-farious mysteries of our infamous Bolebridge “egg” traffic interchange.  But back in Saxon times, what we now know as Marmion Street had a very different role, for it formed the north east corner of the great earth-work that surrounded the town know as “Kings Ditch” or Offa’s Dyke.

 

When King Offa became ruler in 755, Mercia, of which Tamworth was the capital, was the principal Saxon kingdom.  Offa’s great defensive fortification was 45 feet wide and had a raised bank and palisades.  Sadly, no visible traces of the entrenchment and bank remain.  But at least the name was kept alive as the address of the small residential cul-de-sac on The Leys, Offa Street. 

 

Modern planners have also used the name for the rather more high profile Offa Drive.  In 1066 a little under 300 years after Offa’s death, England was conquered by the Normans and Tamworth was bestowed by William I upon his champion Robert de Marmion, Lord of Fontenaye.  Four generations of Marmions lorded it at Tamworth Castle and ever keen to recall the towns rich heritage, Victorian planners used the family name to identify this modest residential street, running off the more stately Albert Road, named after Queen Victoria’s consort who visited the town in 1843.

 

This archive picture, taken by Herald photographer Paul Barber, shows the northern end of the street in September 1967.  The view is looking towards the junction with Albert Road, with the terraced homes and narrow pavements looking much as they had a century before.  Tamworth’s demolition decade witnessed destruction of much of the town of our parents and grand-parents time and the tunnel back cottages, standing neatly to attention on the right were flattened to make way for a car park.  The three storey town houses opposite have survived, although an assortment of modern UPVC windows and doors together with modern stucco rendering has drastically altered the intended Victorian uniformity.  An interesting piece of street furniture stand along side the old Marmion School cycle sheds (front left), the gas lantern, which originally crowned the Victorian lamp post had been replaced by a curious swan-necked electric fitting.

 

Although closed in 1964, the Marmion School building stood until 1970 when the site was cleared for the towns new Police headquarters, which opened in 1975.  The house with the flat roofed extension in Albert Road is now M.G. Evans Funeral Directors.

 

60’S DESTRUCTION

FOR BETTER OR WORSE?

The demolition seen above was captured by the Herald photographer, Paul Barber in the bad old days of the 1960’s, when so much of our town centre was bulldozed out of existence.  Those of you who enjoy locating the picture before reading the text will probably have some difficulty in pinpointing this sad place.  The row of Victorian houses biting the dust, stood in Spinning School Lane on the site now occupied by the town’s Magistrate’s Court.  The old Marmion School, pulled down later to make way for the towns Police station just creeps into the picture on the far right.  The curious Spinning School name is the only memorial now to a school that existed 300 year ago and which lasted a mere 30 years. 

 

It was recorded that in 1687, Lord Weymouth gave the town a barn and land in School House Lane for conversion into a house for setting poor children to work.  Among the first to donate money were Dame Elizabeth Ferrers and Thomas Guy. Attending this school, however must have been pretty soul destroying.  In 1712 the town’s Bailiffs and capital Burgesses ordered that “The overseers of the poor of Tamworth provide brass letters of TP (Tamworth Pauper) for such poor as receive weekly pay of the town, first cutting the letters TP on cloth or flannel to be laid under the brass letters and both firmly fastened on the right sleeve of the uppermost garment near the shoulder.”  Such was the humiliation suffered by the poor in those pre National Insurance, pre Social Services days.  The Spinning School fell into disuse in 1719 and the building was converted into dwellings for the poor.  The only clue to where it was sighted is from Tamworth’s invaluable Victorian historian Charles Ferrers Palmer, who speaking of Guy’s Almshouses states that “Very lately (about 1845) the trustees have extended the property by the purchase of premises called Spinning School.”  It is probably therefore, that the school lay just to the rear of the present Almshouses.

 

The gas lantern which originally crowned the Victorian lamp-posts have of course all been replaced by electric fittings.  These odd pieces of street furniture were much in evidence in the side streets up until the 1970’s.  They certainly had curiosity value, unlike the modern court building which stands today as a monument to architectural blandness.  Lacking any sense of paternal authority.  The court’s outward appearance is that of a community centre.  It is certainly not a building to strike awe into the hearts of wrong doers.  Neither the office block Police Station, nor the courts would be built to the same designs today.  Unfortunately we have been lumbered with them for many years to come.

 

 

CHURCHYARD VIEW

PRE BULLDOZER - 1957

These charming little cottages, right in the centre of Tamworth, formed the eastern side of an internal square or courtyard, known as Old School Yard.  Photographed shortly before their demolition in 1957, this was probably the site of the Rev. John Rawlet’s charity school, which later became Sir Robert Peel’s first school in the 1820’s.  When the first baronet (father of the Prime Minister) moved his school to the south side of Lichfield Street, now a betting shop adjacent to the Boot Inn, Old School Yard was divided up into several cottage dwellings.  The Rev. John Rawlet – spelt with one T, unlike the modern senior school named after him – was born in Tamworth in 1642.  It was recorded that her was a man distinguished by him many and great virtues and his excellent preaching.  He was, for many years a lecturer at Newcastle on Tyne and died in 1686,  In his will, he made a bequest of his books to ‘The Minister of the schoole of the towne of Tamworth’ should they think them worthy of acceptance ‘to fix them in some roome belonging to the schoole of Tamworth or other convenient place there that they may be preserved for the use of succeeding schoole masters and such students of the towne as shall need them and that it may serve as encouragement to others to make addition thereto, that there may be a public library for the benefit of scholars of the said towne.’  

 

The collection comprising of some 934 books, became the town’s first library and was housed in a room at Guy’s Almshouses in Lower Gungate until 1868, when the library was transferred to the newly constructed Queen Elizabeth’s Grammar School in Upper Gungate.  In 1932 the trustees, with the consent of the Charities Commission, sold the library by auction and applied the proceeds to the purposes of Rawlet Charity. 

 

Prior to the arrival of the bulldozers, this cosy cluster of cottages and shops nestled beneath the mighty St. Editha’s tower.  The central cottage faced the great west doors, while the decorated gable end of Job Shipley’s sweet shop can just be seen on the extreme left.  In order to improve access to the church, Old School Yard was pulled down and replaced by St. Editha’s Close.  The highly decorated tomb in the foreground disappeared in 1968 when the church railing were removed and the Church Street frontage was re-designed to create the grass slope we know today.

 

 

CHURCH STREET 1968

This unusual view of Church Street was taken by Herald photographer, Paul Barber in February 1968 and showed the much missed Church Street treasured from the less photographed western side.  On the left is the entrance to St. Editha’s Close and to the right a makeshift car park.  This is where medieval Middle Entry stood, making this a continuous row of fabulous buildings stretching down as far as the Silver Street traffic lights.

 

Demolition of the old Middle Entry exposed the decidedly unattractive side of Day and Bill’s millinery store.  The mock Tudor jettied shop further on was owned successively by butchers Harrison, Bradley and lastly Matthews.  Next came Ethel Godfrey’s leather (with it’s famous Wellington boot sign), and then the Allen shops. 

 

It was in 1936 that Billy Allen and his wife set up business – Mr. Allen was a grocer and Mrs. Allen as a lady’s outfitter – in the centuries old converted properties opposite the Parish Church.  The grocer, confectioner and toy store traded under the name of Christine’s and the dress shop under the name of Pauline’s.  These were the Christian names of the couple’s daughters, Pauline Wheeldon and Christine Beardsmore.  A former miner, Billy was also responsible for converting the old Horse and Jockey pub into the Monica Café (named after another daughter) where they operated a catering business from 1949 to 1954.  This building is now Bond’s Bar. 

 

The large two storey building on the corner with College Lane is Lesser and Sons furniture store.  When modern re-development sounded the death knell for these old buildings – once so attractive, but by this time falling into delapidation, the Allens joined the master trader butcher Bob Matthews, furniture dealer M. Lesser and Mrs. Godfrey in the newly built line of shops set 20 yards back from the original sites.  These were part of the Middle Entry shopping precinct, a singular piece of 1960’s architecture that admirably reflects the talents of those responsible for designing it.  Today only Matthews shop remains, although Lessers continue to trade from premises opposite the old Police Station.  These old properties – some of which dated from medieval times – were demolished and the move made to the new in October 1968.  The area has subsequently been developed into St. Editha’s Square.

 

The Co-Op department store in the distance had yet to acquire its top floor.  This was added in 1970 and now houses a heritage view restaurant.  What a pity the heritage on view, with the notable exception of the magnificent Parish Church, isn’t a patch on what it was.

 

A MONUMENT TO PLANNERS AND
SHORT-SIGHTED COUNCILLORS

A blistering attack on the devastation of Tamworth’s histotic town centre by redevelopment caused councillors considerable discomfort 25 years ago when a book entitled “Goodbye Britain”, author Tony Auldous, a former environment and a architectural reporter on The Times, said that Tamworth or Brumworth, as he called it, had a strong claim to be considered a prime example of a small town ‘recked by insensitive expansion’.

 

If there was no change, he warned, Tamworth would steadily and inevitably become a monument to planners who dreamed of a brave new world, but were blind to the quality and potential of the down-at-heel one.  Not surprisingly, his comments were dismissed by the then arrogant councillors who hit back that he was informed’ and had not properly grasped the problems that were affecting the town.  Few local people agreed, because what Mr. Aldous was talking about is precisely the sort of development we see in the archive photograph taken by Paul Barber in 1968.  It shows the construction of two new shops in George Street, next to the former Palace Cinema.  This bland, shoddy and badly designed and cheaply built property stands oposite Woolworths on the site formerly occupied by the 18th century buildings that house Boots Chemist and Sheltons Bakery and the Maypole Dairy Store.  Common Lane (left), today leads into Ankerside.

 

The new buildings mind mumbingly featureless façade is accentuated by an astonishing planning decision that allowed the first floor to protrude beyone the natural building line into the street.  What on earth were the planners thinking of?  These are, of course purely architectural observations that in no way reflect on the excellent businesses, Three Cook’s Bread and Cake shop and the Birmingham Midshires Building Society, that currently occupy the premises.  Mr Aldous argued that the cause of Tamworth’s ills could only be put down to the failure to give significant weight to conservation and continuity,  He went on to say ‘Here was a town that had been a town since Saxon times.  It had for the most part grown gradually to a splendid maturity in Georgian and perhaps Victorian times.  The 20th century brought stagnation and the spectre of decline, it seemed to offer the choice ‘expand or die’ but the initial study be Tetlow & Goss, though paying a certain lip service to preservation, chose the bulldozers way.’  He added ‘Planners still seem to be rushing in like well intentioned bulls in a shop full of delicate china.  If they are left to it, the result cannot be more disastrous.’

 

Well despite Mr. Aldous comments, as we all know, more disasters were inflicted upon us.  Less than a week after this scathing attack in his new book, one leading member of Tamworth Borough Council, who is still involved in local politics today, complained that development had not gone far enough.  Councillor White said he was still ‘confused’ as to which areas of the town were worthy of conservation. ‘I still find it very difficult to see anything in the area worth preserving, or to see what people are shouting about.’  He said ‘ If there was one thing we ought to have done, but didn’t, it was to have knocked even more down.’  The then Deputy Mayor, Councillor Ron Watson on 23rd January 1976, added that when he moved to Tamworth in 1956, nobody was bothered about conservation. ‘The Council has tackled the problem boldly and with sympathy and has spent a lot of money – we could easily have bulldozed the lot down.’ He said ‘I feel proud of what we have done and what we are doing.’ !!!!

 

PUTTING THE BOOT IN
GEORGE STREET - 1968

It is doubtless a source of some embarrassment to our much maligned planners and councillors of the past, that so much of Tamworth’s architectural heritage was recorded by Herald photographer, Paul Barber.  For these old photographs serve not only as an invaluable historical record of how our town has evolved over the last 100 years or so… they also provide us with the means of assessing how the buildings that replaced them have fared.  Sadly, the comparisons are seldom favourable.

 

This picture is a typical example.  Herald photographer Paul Barber took this shot, showing demolition of three well known George Street shops in 1968.  Paul, who had just left school was being trained in photography by Garfield Snow and could see the old town disappearing before his eyes.  He felt the need to record the fate of historic buildings that were being raised to the ground at an alarming rate.  Standing opposite Woolworth’s, the property in the foreground on the corner of Common Lane was formerly Boots Chemist.  Shelton’s Bakery was next door with the Maypole Dairy shop on the end.  Many older locals will recall Maypole’s glazed tiles, depicting painted pictures of farmyard scenes and the smart staff in their white and green uniforms.  As the demolition men tore down these 18th century buildings, they came across an old tunnel heading out under George Street from beneath one of the shops.  Some suspected that it may have been a long-lost medieval passageway leading from the castle to St. Editha’s Parish Church.  Local people have long believed the tunnel to exist, but as yet, there is no historical or architectural proof.  The George Street tunnel was probably just a cellar dug out to provide extra storage space.  But, as they developers were anxious to press on without archaeologists poking their noses in, the tunnel was simply blocked up with little or no investigation.  These 18th century buildings were replaced with the modern structures you see in the previous picture.

 

With its stark concrete frontage and protruding first floor, it is difficult to imagine how this hideous building was ever granted planning permission.  But as we all know, some very curious planning decisions were made in the 1960’s and 1970’s.

 

THE BIRTH OF ANKERSIDE - 1976

It should not take long to pinpoint this desolate scene right in the heart of Tamworth.  The picture was taken on April 1976 by former Tamworth Herald photographer John Walker and shows massive upheaval cause by the arrival of the Ankerside Shopping Centre.  The gentleman with the tripod is Francis Domaingue, Ankerside’s resident engineer.  He is standing roughly where the entrance to H. Samuel’s jewellers shop is today.  The buildings in the centre are rear views of Burton’s and Lloyd’s Bank in George Street.  To the right is the frontage of Woolworths and the rear of the modern shops currently occupied by Birmingham Midshire’s and Three Cook’s Bakery and Cake shop.  The gaping hold between them – now filled by MacDonalds restaurant was the site of the old Palace Cinema.

 

Ankerside was officially opened by Her Majesty the Queen on 6th June 1980.  The retail development and associated multi-storey car park was built in two phases on land formerly occupied by Hamel’s mill and several small business and back gardens sandwiched between George Street and the river Anker.  Built primarily as a commercial enterprise, its architecture can nevertheless be appreciated from and aesthetic as well as an economic viewpoint.  The stained glass window over the castle grounds entrance and attractive landscaping are particularly pleasing.  Residential flats incorporated into the development give the area that ‘lived in’ feel, unlike the pathetic Middle Entry shopping arcade (opened a decade previously), Ankerside has that vital tough of class so obviously missing from umpteen buildings that deface our town today.  One could argue that panoramic views of the Castle Pleasure Grounds and river are best afforded from the Ankerside car park, rather than the shopping mall, but perhaps this was intentional.

 

We have many splendid retailers in our town – most notably the delightfully diverse Co-op.  And the market traders too, have played a big part in keeping the streets of Tamworth alive.  But few would argue, that without Ankerside, Tamworth would have effectively died as a shopping entity.  For this reason alone, the development is a worthy and most welcome addition to our town.

 

 

DOG COTTAGES – STONY LANE

Although the photographic quality of this dip into the archive leaves something to be desired, the picture is worth seeing because it shows a long gone view of old Tamworth that many residents may recall.  Originally called Stony Lane, what we now know as Upper Gungate was described by the Victorian historian, Charles Ferrers-Palmer as ‘very dirty, irregular and narrow with a few poor scattered, thatched cottages.’  By the 1820’s it had been widened and new houses built.  The 19th century saw prosperous housing gradually extended up to the Fountain junction and beyond, into the Comberford, Wigginton and Ashby Roads.

 

The 19th century workers houses pictured here were photographed just before demolition in the late 1960’s.  Know locally as Dog Cottages, they were situated on Upper Gungate’s western stretch, just after Salter’s Lane, and acquired their name from the public house that originally stood on the vacant plot on the extreme left.  Kept by Albert Falkener, one of three brothers who each kept a separate pub, The Dog Inn was deemed unsuitable for modernisation and so the licence was transferred to a neighbouring building, which became The Mount (the entrance is clearly visible in the foreground).  The Mount public house had originally been built as a private dwelling, but was found structurally unsuitable for licensed premises when it came up for sale in 1958.  The application to transfer The Dog licence had been opposed by the Baptist Union, and by the Rev. R.K. Hall, who’s home as the Manse, Upper Gungate, was next door to the proposed pub.  However permission was eventually granted and the house became a hostelry.  The Mount was opened by the Mayor of Tamworth, Cllr. K.A. Mugleston in April 1959 and served as a Mitchell’s and Butlers Inn for around 25 years until it closed.  The building was acquired by the Aldergate Medical Practice, who investigated the feasibility of converting the building into a G.P.’s surgery.  However, this too proved unsatisfactory and so the demolition gangs were called in and in 1989 the old pub was replaced by the building we know today. Despite some slightly eccentric features, the medical centre’s design pays due architectural homage to the Victorian and Edwardian villas that extend up to the Fountain junction and beyond.  The old pub sign is even preserved in the waiting room.

 

Standing opposite Tamworth College of Further Education, the two and three storey Dog Cottages were replaced by a row of eight modern terraced homes, built further back to allow for such innovative fancies as front gardens.  In more recent times, a grass verge in front of the houses has been enhanced by landscaping, with trees and shrubs providing added privacy for residents, whilst continuing the leafy appearance of Upper Gungate, which despite ever increasing traffic, remains a relatively attractive residential area.

 

 AN UNHEALTHY PICTURE - 1967

Demolition gangs were once again knocking our town around, when Herald photographer, Paul Barber took this photograph in 1967.  The row of Victorian terraced houses, known as Stranraer Place, stood near the Bell Corner junction of Hospital Street and Lower Gungate (just out of view on the right).  To get the shot, Paul stood in Aldergate, looking over an area of previously demolished homes.  This is now a pay and display car park, while the area occupied by the houses is the car park of Tamworth Health Centre. 

 

A clue to the location is given by the corner of the old Tamworth General Hospital, which is just visible creeping into the top left of the picture.  Many older Tamworthians will recall Pickerings little grocery / off licence, clearly visible on the corner. Kirkcowan Terrace, which stood behind these houses, was similarly despatched to make way for the new health centre, which was officially opened in November 1968.  Built with the aim of combining public health services with general practitioner and hospital facilities, the centre has provided local people with an invaluable service for over 30 years.  What a pity, therefore, that the building in which these important services are dispensed is such a disaster!  Tamworth doctors first put forward the idea of a health centre in 1961, in collaboration with Tamworth and Lichfield M.P. Julian Snow, who was the Parliamentary Secretary to the Minister of Health.  By 1966, however, they were angered by delays and threatened to withdraw from the scheme unless an autumn 1968 completion date was given by the County Health Authority.  This, was of course, achieved.  Built at a cost of £90,000 the health centre belongs to the depressingly prolific 1960’s ‘off the peg’ school of architecture.  With its flat roof and characterless half-tiled façade, the architect (for want of a better description), surpassed himself by locating the main entrance at the back of a bike shed!  This appeared to have been constructed out of some left-over ranch-type wooden fencing.  What an innovation that was.  Thankfully, this has gone and other much needed cosmetic improvements have been made over the years.

 

The most pleasing improvement, however, is the erection of a six foot high perimeter brick wall around the car park.  This provides the centre with a relative degree of privacy – while shielding the rest of us from this woeful piece of ‘junk’ architecture.

 

DISCOUNTED ZONE - 1967

Businesses that today occupy this town centre shopping develoment at the rear of Tamworth’s historic Town Hall are all first class…..  But that term certainly does not apply to the architecture.  Anyone with an eye for quality brickwork will cringe at the standard of workmanship of this 1967 view captured for posterity by Herald photographer, Paul Barber.  The building under construction – formerly Benson’s Shoe shop – is now occupied by Discount Shoe Zone.  The next time you pass this corner, where Market Street merges with George Street, look at the plate glass windows and shop signs at the brickwork above.  You won’t see worse…. Anywhere!  In complete contrast, the Ankerside Shopping Centre opposite Middle Entry couldn’t be more different.  Opened in 1980, its brickwork is excellent, a sign that building specifications had improved considerably in the decade that separates the two schemes.

 

Standing on the same spot today we would be looking through the Middle Entry opening in Market Street, with the Bon Marche clothes shop beginning just where the two pedestrians are standing.  Centuries old buildings in the background had suffered appalling neglect and were about to be bull-dozed as Tamworth raced headlong into a period of planning madness that tore the heart out of the historic town centre.  The Clifton Cycle Accessory shop, a long-established business, that sold everything to do with bicycles, is in the centre of the photograph.  The narrow doorway behind the boot of the car, a Vauxhall Victor, lead into the original Middle Entry, an ancient passage-way that wound through to Church Street emerging near the Wheatsheaf Inn, a long-lost Tamworth watering hole.  Unrecognisable in this picture, the mangled building to the left was another of the proud old inns of Tamworth, the Corn Exchange.  Its final days were heartbreaking, the ground floor being gutted to provide access to a make-shift car park at the rear. Named after the farmer’s practice of meeting in the bar to assess corn prices before trading in the market, the pub stood in the shadow of Thomas Guy’s Town Hall, the rear of which is just out of the picture on the left. Closed as a drinking establishment in the 1930’s the premises were utilised during the war as a clothed and blanket collection point, run by the Women’s Voluntary Service.

 

To the left is Coopers wallpaper and paint store. Whenever berated for knocking down so many old town centre buildings, those responsible invariably trot out the standard response ‘if we hadn’t pulled them down, they’d have fallen down.’ Drivel!  If that were the case, Englands most attractive towns and cities such as Chester, Lichfield, York, Ludlow, Tewkesbury, Gloucester, et al, would all be piled high with collapsed masonry rather than attractive 10’s of thousands of tourists each year.  Most of us know that our town could have been a little historic gem, but what exasperates the loss felt by so many Tamworth residents is the shoddy, second rate rubbish that our historic buildings were replaced with.  For that… there is no excuse!