Author: Delicto

Categories
Buildings

Two hundred years of history about to be replaced with apartments

Broad Street proposal. Image: Falconer Chester Hall

Once upon a time, in 1822, a public house opened on Broad Street, Park, called The Harrow, containing an adjacent cottage and workshops. It was held on lease under the Duke of Norfolk for ninety years. No doubt it was named after the heavy agricultural tool dragged over ploughed land to break up clods.

By the 1850s, it had been enlarged and stabling added, but the character of the pub had changed entirely. Now called ‘The Old Harrow,’ it briefly lost its licence in 1852 because of the misconduct of its tenant, James Potts.

The charm of the area was lost, with dense back-to-back housing spreading across the Park district, and providing a raft of thirsty drinkers for the pub, but still attractive enough to show the celebrated prize pig ‘Champion’ in 1858.

There were ups and downs at The Old Harrow: successes, failures, bankruptcies, deaths, burglaries, and numerous inquests held on persons who had died in the vicinity.

The slum housing was subsequently replaced with the sprawling Hyde Park and Park Hill flats, but to keep the allure of days past, the pub became known as Ye Old Harrow.

But customers eventually dried up, and the pub closed in 2008, falling into disrepair, and was victim of an arson attack in 2019.

Ye Old Harrow (just about) remained standing, gaining a reputation as Sheffield’s most haunted pub, and only entered by those with their wits about them – urban explorers who captured the blackened interiors on film.

Ye Old Harrow. This year marks two hundred years since it was built

A year ago, the pub and accompanying land was put up for auction with a guide price of £225,000, and its prime location near to Park Hill, Park Square, and the city centre, meant it was quickly snapped up.

Now, D&S Properties SPV has submitted a full planning application for the construction of a new building of up to seven storeys. It will mean the demolition of Ye Old Harrow and its replacement would comprise 55 one-bed and two two-bed private rented sector (PRS) apartments, together with an office and residential gym on the ground floor.

The good news is that Granelli’s ice cream and sweet shop, at the bottom of Broad Street, remains unaffected.

Broad Street proposal. Image: Falconer Chester Hall

©2022 David Poole. All Rights Reserved.

Categories
Streets

Snig Hill – the mystery in its name

Snig Hill, looking down towards Bridge Street. Snig Hill Police Station can be seen on the right. Image: DJP/2022

Mention Snig Hill and most people will attach the name to the police station that has stood here since 1970. But Snig Hill refers to the sloping road between the bottom of Angel Street and West Bar. This was once a bustling thoroughfare but has been slowly downgraded because of traffic flow changes.

It is not an unpleasant place. The ‘grey-to-green’ project has seen the introduction of trees and wildflowers to re-connect the Castlegate area with the rest of the city centre and re-use redundant highway. And it soaks up rainwater that would have flowed into the nearby River Don, therefore reducing the risk of flooding.

The mystery about Snig Hill is how it got its name. It has mystified Sheffielders for centuries and various suggestions have been put forward.

Snig Hill, street sign. Image: DJP/2022

Once upon a time, there was a corn mill at Millsands, next to the River Don, and to access this, people used a packhorse track running between high banks behind gardens of old houses that stood on what is now the right hand side of Snig Hill going down the hill.

According to J.W. Farnsworth in 1939, this became so waterlogged in wet weather with rain and the sewage that drained from the Beast Market, that it earned itself the name of Water Lane (think, Hen & Chickens, now Castle Green).

When Snig Hill was made and cobbled, the ancient lane fell into disuse, and several townsmen built houses. On the opposite side, at what became the Black Swan Hotel, was Costnough Hall which stood just below the Irish Cross at the junction of Angel Street.

The hall disappeared, and Snig Hill became a narrow street, and the projecting upper stories of the houses gave an appearance of still greater narrowness.

J.W. Farnsworth’s sketch of old Snig Hill. Costnough Hall is seen on the left. Image: British Newspaper Archive

And so, to the name. In dialect English, of the word ‘snig’ there were five meanings: (1) To cut or chop; (2) to sneak off; (3) to drag over the ground; (4) close and private; (5) a small eel.

One suggestion was that ‘Snig Hill’ derived its name from the fact that it was the incline up which the ‘trees’ were ‘snigged’ from the lower area (the area down to the banks of the river, say) which no doubt was very well wooded at one time.

A ‘snig chain’ was also the chain used for hauling timber or attaching an extra horse to a wagon. At our Snig Hill, it was said that a horse was once kept to ‘snig’ up the hill any wagon that paid a small fee.

But Sidney Oldall Addy in ‘A Glossary of Words used in Sheffield,’ published in 1888, thought differently.

“To snig a load of anything up a hill is to take up the load in two or more instalments. For instance, a load of timber might be left at the bottom of the hill. Each portion brought up would be called a snig. The incline of the hill is not great, and the hill is small. Snig Hill thus appears to mean Little Hill. I think this is really the meaning, there being no proof that the timber was ever dragged up the hill in instalments.”

But he contradicted himself in ‘The Hall of Waltheof,’ published in 1893.

“The word snug, meaning lying close and warm is identical with the word snig used in this street name. It is not the hill in this case, which is snug, but the narrow old street, and had it been Snicket Hill, the meaning would have been clear.”

Others thought that it took its name from the practice of putting a ‘snig’ or length of wood through the back wheels of carts going down the hill to act as a brake.

Snig Hill, looking towards Angel Street. Image: DJP/2022

Willis Crookes, of Normandale, Loxley, said in 1930 that at the Bridge Street end  of Snig Hill, there was a depression in the road, where a pool once existed, and which was really a backwash of the River Don. He told of his boyhood (the 1870s), when he often talked to old men who told him that in their young days it swarmed with eels.

When anybody wanted a fish dinner they took a long stick with a cleft in it, pushed it into the mud of the pool, and dragged out an eel. This useful form of diversion was called ‘snigging.’

A far more likely explanation came about the same time from somebody who said that an old relative had been a stagecoach driver between Leeds and Sheffield. Among stories passed down in his family was one to the effect that the flour ground at Millsands was put into barrels and were ‘snigged up t’hill.’ He suggested that ‘to snig’ was to roll the barrel up the slope and put a under it.

However, it seems that the true meaning of ‘Snig Hill’ may never be known.

South Yorkshire Police at Snig Hill. It was originally built by B. Warren, Sheffield’s Planning Officer and Architect, as force headquarters for Sheffield and Rotherham Constabulary in 1970. It is now the police station covering Sheffield city centre. Image: DJP/2022

©2022 David Poole. All Rights Reserved.

Categories
Buildings

Revised development plans for site on Fitzwilliam Street

Proposal for 81-85 Fitzwilliam Street, Sheffield Image: Cartwright Pickard

In April 2020, I reported on a planning application for a thirteen-storey block of 209 student studio apartments on Fitzwilliam Street.

The site was bound to the east by Bowdon Street, adjacent to The Washington pub to the north, and commercial units to the south.

The application was granted, but students have been ditched, and revised plans have been submitted by Trustees of Ashdell Pension Scheme and Crosslane Residential Living for a four-ten-and eighteen storey building, comprising 140 build-to-rent (BTR) apartments. The project team includes Urbana and Cartwright Pickard.

Associated amenity space, including an external roof terrace and pavilion, would be provided.

A planning statement submitted as part of the application says:

“The applicant has reached an optimum design, tenure type and scale of building through meeting the necessary requirements needed for the commercial viability of the scheme, and for the freehold of the site to be released. The previously consented scheme was unable to be implemented due to this, and so this revised scheme presents the opportunity for the scheme to be implemented.”

The application also includes the demolition of the existing buildings on the land.  Whilst people won’t mourn the loss of modern industrial and retail units, there are concerns about a residential property being built next to the Washington pub.

It has objected stating, “Any existential threat to our to our trading times, ability to operate as we currently do, or to the business in general, puts jobs at risk.”

Proposal for 81-85 Fitzwilliam Street, Sheffield Image: Cartwright Pickard
Categories
Buildings

Upper Chapel – serenity in the city centre

Upper Chapel, Norfolk Street, Sheffield. Image: DJP/2022

Once upon a time, this building was on the edge of town, but looked very different to what it does now. And it faced Fargate, not Norfolk Street, as it does now.

Upper Chapel is Sheffield’s oldest Nonconformist chapel. It was built in 1700 and the original brick wall sides still form part of the building.

The congregation was formed by followers of James Fisher, Vicar of Sheffield during the Commonwealth, after he was ejected in 1662 in the Great Ejection, during the restoration of the monarchy, for refusing to subscribe to the Act of Uniformity. Around a tenth of his parishioners followed him in becoming Dissenters, and several more splits ensued, but by the 1690s, the dominant group of non-conformists was led by Timothy Jollie.

Prior to this they probably met for worship in each other’s houses, and the worship grew to such an extent that the faithful few in Sheffield ventured to build a place of worship called New Hall (at the bottom of Snig Hill) – the first Dissenting meeting house in Sheffield.

The congregation grew to such an extent that a bigger chapel was built that faced ‘Farrgate’ and was called New Chapel, the back of it looking across Alsop Fields.

On the death of the Rev. Timothy Jollie in 1714, its members numbered 1,163, the largest group in Yorkshire, and the Trustees of New Chapel appointed the Arian John Wadsworth, causing some dissenters to breakaway and build a new chapel nearby. This was Nether Chapel that gave modern-day Chapel Walk its name.

With two chapels so close to each other, New Chapel became known as Upper Chapel, being farther up the hillside, and in its grounds was the tombstone of Timothy Jollie with the inscription, ‘an eloquent and Evangelical interpreter of the word of God, a man divinely gifted to preach the fundamentals of Christian doctrine.’ The grounds, which form the present day courtyard, were originally used as a burial ground until 1855, when a law was passed preventing further town centre burials.

By the 1840s, Upper Chapel was described as having ‘a dingy aspect externally, and peculiarly inconvenient in the arrangements of the interior.’

In 1847-8 it was completely rebuilt by Sheffield-architect John Frith, a member of the congregation, the style of architecture being ‘Italian, simple and plain in its detail.’

His biggest change was to extend the building to the east and reverse the building to face Norfolk Street.

The principal front, built of cleansed stone, was divided into three compartments, the centre one being composed of an Ionic portico of four columns, over which there were a group of circular-headed windows. It had a slight projection and was surmounted with a pediment. The flanks of the chapel were raised eight feet higher than the former building with architrave moulding, frieze, and cornice, that ran on one level around all the outer walls, with exception of the pediment in the principal front.

The body of the chapel was divided into three compartments by two aisles, commencing at the entrances and terminating on each side of the pulpit and communion table.

A three-sided oval gallery was introduced, the columns supporting it set five feet back from the line of the gallery front and allowing a view of the minister from every part of the chapel.

The interiors were enhanced by later additions and fittings, and according to Pevsner, included pews in1882, the vestry in 1900, and an organ console and central pulpit elevated on Doric columns in 1907, all by Edward Mitchell Gibbs.

From 1890 onwards, 16 stained glass windows were installed, including one re-installation in 2001 of a window found in storage under stairs. Nine of them, all on the ground floor, were designed by Henry Holiday. Further windows were added by Hugh Easton (Liberty and Truth), in 1948, installed either side of the pulpit as replacements for bomb damaged windows.  

Upper Chapel is now a member of the General Assembly of Unitarian and Free Christian Churches, the umbrella organisation for British Unitarians. Its trustees still own many freehold properties in Sheffield, and the chapel is connected by staircase to Channing Hall on Surrey Street.

In the courtyard are three sculptures by George Fullard – ‘Running Woman,’ ‘Mother and Child,’ and ‘Angry Woman,’ all sited in 1985.

Upper Chapel, Norfolk Street, Sheffield. Image: DJP/2022

©2022 David Poole. All Rights Reserved.

Categories
Steelopolis

“There is no building or civic space which can make the heart gasp or the spirit sing.”  

Fifty years may seem like ancient history to some. But to others, fifty years is well within living memory. In 1972, The Guardian published a special report on Sheffield.

A city on the brink of change,” was how city-based writer, G.R. Adams, described Sheffield, but has it really altered half a century later?

Let’s go back in time to see what the writer said: –

“Before this article was published, I was believed to be a true son of Sheffield. I could appear knowledgeable about goits, leats, ingots, and lady buffers. I would examine cutlery with discreet ostentation in foreign dining rooms. I had cultivated a modest paranoia about Leeds and took no interest in the affairs of Manchester or Birmingham. But now I must confess that I was not born in Sheffield, not even in Yorkshire, but in Sussex. I can therefore look at Sheffield with some detachment.

“The truth is that nothing very much has ever happened in this city. There have been no great confrontations between kings and princes, no epoch-making political drama; no great painting, literature, or music has ever been inspired in this neck of the woods. The city only rose to prominence during the Industrial Revolution of the nineteenth century. While great events were happening elsewhere, Sheffield was producing the iron and steel sinews which made those events possible – the expansion of railways, bridges, harbours, and industrial machinery. Two World Wars were fought with iron ships, steel tanks, and armaments. Statesmen who took part in the great debates of history looked over their shoulders to Sheffield for the means to carry out their grand designs.”

A fair assessment, but ‘great music’ did emerge from Sheffield. Off the back of Thatcher’s Britain, the 1980s created an explosion of talent – Cabaret Voltaire, Human League, ABC, Heaven 17, Deff Leppard – and the days of Jarvis Cocker, Pulp, and the Arctic Monkeys, came later. These musicians inspired a generation like me.

“The foundation of this fame lies in the industrial Don Valley,” wrote Adams. “Attercliffe is still an appalling place of mean-spirited houses of grey slate on blackened brick and open back yard privies. All are crowded around and overshadowed by the black hulks of dying industrial buildings. Many of the houses have been pulled down but enough remain to house many of the immigrant families and those below the poverty line. The road to Wigan Pier ran through these terrible streets. They are the conscience of the city and while one child lives in this wasteland, no councillor or citizen can sleep at peace.

“This is the spur of the great rehousing programmes that the city has undertaken. Between the wars, the extensive Manor, and Firth Park estates were built. At that time, they were sufficiently better than Attercliffe to be acceptable as an improvement, but now they are joyless graveyards of houses which will require replacement to higher standards.”

What can we say about Attercliffe? Since the article was written, the houses disappeared, and so did industry. The World Student Games in 1991 promised the great revival. Much was bulldozed, and Sheffield Arena and Don Valley Stadium were built, but even the latter wouldn’t survive. Ever since, Attercliffe has remained a lost cause, a sorry link between the city centre and Meadowhall, and a down-at-heel suburb that laments the golden days. And, while the people have returned to the city’s other old residential districts, it could be that after all this time, Attercliffe might finally become Sheffield’s next regeneration model.

In the interim, the Manor estate attracted unwanted publicity, the subject of a miserable TV documentary, but it eventually went the same way as Attercliffe. Widespread clearance and swathes of empty land appeared, but new builds have slowly brought the area back to life. Alas, Firth Park remained much the same, and is probably still suffering.

Back in 1972, Park Hill came under scrutiny, but even the writer could not have anticipated that the flats complex would be listed before suffering its unglamorous decline. Had it not been listed, it might not have risen, phoenix-like, into a citadel for young professionals, and still in the process of emerging from its slumber.

“Park Hill is a city within a city and dominates the Sheaf Valley like a castle above a moat. A second generation of families no longer remember the bitter controversy of its birth and the endless social surveys. Banks of trees and grass now cover the scars of the railway slopes and cuttings. Few grandparents now recall the previous squalor and degradation, where the Mooney gang dominated the sordid streets with razor and terror and Charlie Peace crept out at night.”

Those grandparents are long-dead, and their grandchildren are now grandparents themselves, and probably live in the suburbs watching the unrelenting spread of Sheffield’s two universities.

“On the hill, some of the best buildings in the city have been commissioned by the university. They still remain largely unrelated to each other, but the recently completed spacious underpass beneath a major road linking two parts of the campus is an imaginative solution.

“In the valley, the metamorphosis is taking the place of the Polytechnic from the chrysalis of the old Technical College. The span and complexity of its spreading wings are being watched with awe.”

The University of Sheffield advanced towards the city centre, absorbing houses, factories, churches, as well as the Jessops Hospital for Women, and almost the entire area around it. It grew to become one of Sheffield’s biggest employers, creating space-age buildings, and made the city appear incredibly cosmopolitan.

Now it is the turn of Sheffield Hallam University, the former Polytechnic, with aspirations to flatten and recreate former manufacturing areas and provide a welcoming gateway to the city.

“The new Crucible Theatre is an exciting building with its foyers painted so costly gay. It could be a place of real artistic achievement if the city will support it.”

The city didn’t support it, at least not in the beginning, but far from being the ‘white elephant,’ it was saved by snooker and then by the very thing it was built for – drama, musicals, shows, and pantomimes. The Crucible’s been joined by the Lyceum Theatre, empty and redundant in 1972, and is regarded by critics as the best producing-house outside London. Its foyers painted so costly ‘gay’ resonate with its recent multi-million pound success story – Everybody’s Talking About Jamie – doing good business in the West End and made into an Amazon film. Try explaining Amazon to our seventies’ forebears.

“There are many fine buildings of power and character in the city but few of real grace and elegance. There is no building or civic space which can make the heart gasp or the spirit sing.”  

And this has been the case ever since, but times are quickly changing, and nobody could ever have anticipated, nor waited for, the long-overdue Heart of the City redevelopment.

“But now the city is facing new challenge to its skills. There is no more land left within its past boundaries to meet the new housing, industrial, and social needs of a rising population. The major expansion of the city has been channelled into Mosborough to the south-east. Here it is planned to increase the local population by 50,000 within 15 years. It is a bold and ambitious plan, based on a series of townships of 5,000 each, linked by a grid network of roads fed from a new expressway to the heart of the city. The problems of implementing this explosive growth may have been underestimated by both the local authority and the private sector. There is concern that neither the ambitious programme nor the high environmental target standards may be reached.”

It was about this time that my parents considered buying a new house at Mosborough. I was young and the thought of moving miles away from the city sent a shiver through me. But Mosborough wasn’t that far away, and the move never happened, at least not until the 1980s. By this time, previously unknown names emerged, and wrapped themselves into city history – Owlthorpe, Waterthorpe, Westfield, Holbrook, and Sothall – becoming extensions to existing suburbs like Hackenthorpe, Beighton and Halfway. And along came Crystal Peaks, Drakehouse, and, of course, Supertram.

G.R. Adams failed to mention in 1972 that there was a flaw to this masterplan. Much of this district was farmland, the border between the West Riding of Yorkshire and Derbyshire, to the south of Hackenthorpe, where most of the townships were planned. All was not lost, because those parts of Derbyshire soon found themselves in a new county.

“Local government reform will create a new South Yorkshire metropolitan county with four constituent districts of Barnsley, Doncaster, Rotherham, and Sheffield. Each of these proud cities (sic) faces similar problems of industrial waste and neglect, substandard housing, and declining industry. Sheffield as the largest centre will have considerable influence. Yet while preoccupied with Mosborough to the south-east, it must offer cooperation and coordination to the north and may have to divert resources.

“The whole of South Yorkshire is increasingly dominant by the large, nationalised undertakings for coal, steel, rail, gas, and electricity, and larger but fewer organisations concerned with major heavy engineering. The power of decision is moving away from South Yorkshire and the control of its destiny is slipping into other hands.

“While there are great financial advantages in the whole area being designated an intermediate area, it is a blow to the independent spirit of Sheffield that it can no longer stand alone upon its own excellence.

“Perhaps the most difficult task for the city is to avoid being misled by its own pride and to recognise its own deficiencies. It must create a major change in its industrial future and encourage a rich creative diversity in its life and leisure.”

And while there will be critics of Sheffield’s progress over fifty years, it could be said that the city did re-invent itself. With little heavy industry remaining, the emphasis has switched towards leisure, service industries, and something that could never have been envisaged, a digital future.

As we reflect on our city of long ago, we must touch on the astonishing decline of the city centre.

Nobody anticipated that Sheffield, with a city centre full of shops and people, would fall victim to Meadowhall and the internet. Who could have anticipated a city without Cole Brothers, Walsh’s, Cockayne’s, and Paulden’s (which would become Debenhams a year later)?

Sheffield is still changing, perhaps quicker than most other cities, and the two stages of the Heart of the City redevelopment, might be the much-needed catalyst to reinvent the city centre’s future.

Categories
Buildings

42-46 Fargate – where a Green Dragon once stood

42-46 Fargate. Image: DJP/2022

I have a memory from the 1970s of an old building on Fargate being demolished, and seeing a huge gap, and then the construction of a new one. When looking at 42-46 Fargate, I found I was correct. But the memory also plays tricks. Because I have no recollection of the replacement building also being demolished in the 1990s and substituted with what we see today.

This story starts in 1868 when Robert Henry Ramsden opened a shop in Barker’s Pool as a hat and cap dealer. He had no business experience but established himself  with a reputation for the quality of his goods, and the reasonable prices at which he sold them.

He only allowed cash transactions, and avoided bookkeeping , and by not incurring loss by bad debts, he could afford to sell his goods at a lower rate of profit. He styled himself as ‘The Reasonable Hatter’ and later his advertisements declared that ‘Cash is King.’

He became very successful and opened other shops across Sheffield and Rotherham, and added boots and shoes, and other goods, to his stock.

When important improvements were taking place on Fargate, he purchased a large plot of land, on which was a portion of the old Green Dragon Hotel. Here, he built new shops in which to carry on a portion of his business with a ‘Grand and Sumptuous Hotel.’

The new Green Dragon Hotel was built in 1884, from designs by Thomas Jenkinson, architect, East Parade. Ramsden held the hotel in his name, but it was managed by his son Samuel.

Green Dragon Hotel. Drawing from 1884. Image: BNA

Mr Ramsden’s hat shop was to the right, and the boot and shoe shop to the left, the windows of which extended some way down the passage in the centre, which led to the hotel.

All the floors were laid with encaustic tiles, at the entrance to the hotel being a dragon rampant, with the words ‘Green Dragon Hotel’ beneath. To the right in the passage was the luncheon bar, and to the left a second-class bar, at the end being the smoke room.

The walls and panelled ceilings of these rooms, as well as the passages, were covered with Lincrusta Waltona, with painted decorations. Around the rooms, mirrors were arranged, the seating being upholstered in maroon velvet and lit with massive brass gas chandeliers and brackets manufactured by John Horton and Sons, Sheffield.

The bar was to the right of the smoke room, and the kitchens beyond.

The billiard room, on the first floor, contained two Cox and Yeaman’s tables. A corridor on each side contained a cloakroom, as well as other rooms, leading to the grand dining hall which was 40ft long and 18ft wide, capable of serving 80 people. It was also lined with Lincrusta Waltona, of a handsome figured design with bronze enrichments, the panelled ceiling being painted and gilded. The fittings were mahogany, ebony, and gold, and the mirrors were lit with two massive 6-light brass chandeliers.

Fargate including No 58, former premises of Hartley Brothers, Exchange Gateway, No 56, J. Preston, Nos 54-46, William John N. Smith, Milliner, No 44, Green Dragon Hotel (later became Winchester House), No 40, Davy’s Buildings. Image: Picture Sheffield

On the floor above were club rooms, sitting rooms, bedrooms, store rooms, bathroom, housemaids’ rooms, and lavatories. In the basement were extensive cellars for the storage of wine and beer. A lift ran from the cellar to the top floor, and each room was equipped with electric bells and speaking tubes.

The walls of the hotel were such a thickness that air shafts ran from top to bottom, allowing ventilation for each room, and to conduct bad air into the drains, instead of being carried from the base of the building to the premises above.

All doors to the principal rooms were panelled with elegant cut plate glass with a dragon rampant device.

The hotel aimed to provide the public with refreshments of every description, from a 3d. sandwich or pie, to an elaborate eight or ten-course dinner; and from a glass of beer or bottle of mineral water, to the most costly wines of the best vintages.

Ramsden adopted the same business principle as his other businesses. This was the cash system, allowing him to offer the best at the lowest possible prices.

He died in 1922, aged 82, at 8 Herbert Road, Nether Edge, but his trustees relinquished the licence, and the building and contents of the hotel were auctioned in July 1925.

It was adapted to become Winchester House, the former hotel rooms becoming offices and studios.

The Winchester Restaurant was operated by the Little Tea Shop Company but failed in 1928. And there were several important names that had offices within, including John J. Jubb, accountants, and the Sheffield College of Voice Training.

They were joined in the 1930s by Yates and Henderson (Photographers), the Christadelphian Room, the Sheffield School of Operatic, Classical, and Ballroom Dancing, but its largest tenant became the Berlitz School of Languages, with its name displayed across the front of the building.

Fargate looking towards High Street and Kemsley House in 1937. Fargate including No 42/46, Winchester House and No 38/40, Arthur Davy and Sons, Provision Dealers, Davy’s Building (now WH Smith), left. Image: Picture Sheffield

During the 1950s and 1960s, Winchester House became offices for the Provincial Insurance Company, founded by Sir James Scott in Manchester in 1903.

Provincial Insurance Company, Winchester House. c1960. Image: Picture Sheffield

The two shops at the front changed hands several times and some are worth mentioning, including Maison Sonia at No. 46 in the 1930s, later becoming Paige Gowns and Lovell’s Confectioners at No.48.

However, by the 1960s the building was in serious decline. Most of the offices were empty, with no inclination to find new tenants. Worst of all, the building had become dangerous, with masonry crumbling from above, and it was boarded up at ground level to prevent serious injury to passers-by.

Fargate, the scaffolding on Winchester House being due to masonry falling off the building. Next door is the Golden Egg cafe and coffee shop, May 1971. Image: Picture Sheffield
Upper levels of Winchester House, 1971. Image: Picture Sheffield

Inevitably, it was demolished and replaced with a standard 1970s design. It contained a large shop at ground level, occupied by Dolcis, with modern offices above.

It never fitted in with adjacent Victorian architecture, and was itself demolished in 1996-97, replaced with the present building, and occupied by New Look until its closure.

Now, like the rest of Fargate, it is in limbo, occupied by a short-term let, but its offices are empty. It is for sale with an asking price of around £800K, with potential to extend the upper parts.

But while it waits the renaissance of Fargate, remember the site’s rich history, and of what came before.

No. 42 Fargate, formerly Dolcis shoe shop awaiting demolition in 1996. Image: Picture Sheffield

©2022 David Poole. All Rights Reserved.

Categories
Buildings

33-35 Fargate – this 1937 building is being converted into offices

No. 33-35 Fargate. Now a branch of Superdrug, with the remaining four floors now being converted into premium office space called Ratoon. Image: DJP/2022

Yesterday’s post about the demolition of the former Next building on Fargate caused a bit of a hubbub. Redevelopment is also taking place nearby, at 33-35 Fargate, better known to us as the former Topshop/Topman building.

Part of the ground floor is now occupied by Superdrug, but you may have noticed building work going on in the rest of the property. This is going to be new office space called Ratoon – its name meaning a new shoot or sprout springing from the base of a plant, especially sugar cane, after being cut.

The main entrance, and former escalator access to Topman on the first floor, is being turned into a new opening for office space above, much of which has been empty for years.

The £6.5m project is being financed by fund manager Nuveen on behalf of Medical Research Council Pension Fund. Sheffield City Council has also provided a £900K grant as it seeks to reinvent Fargate and High Street.

Offices will be rented as a whole, or floor-by-floor basis, with a rooftop terrace garden with views over St Marie’s Cathedral and Fargate. A lightwell will be installed over the stairs and an orangery-style roof lantern will shed light directly onto the upper floors.

Newspaper advertisement from June 1937. Image: British Newspaper Archive

But more about the history of the site.

If we go back to the beginning of the twentieth century the site was occupied by J.B. Eaton, well-known drapers at No. 33, and a public house called Old Red House, at No. 35. The pub closed in 1903 and the whole site developed as a purpose-built shop for J.B. Eaton.

The draper closed in the early 1930s and the site was bought by the British and Colonial Furniture Company. It demolished the former shop and built a new property for James Woodhouse and Son, known for selling furniture of modern and attractive design, and opened in May 1937.

The new Woodhouse building had five floors of spacious and well-lit showrooms providing nearly 40,000 square feet of floor space.

The shop fronts with large arcades, specially designed for the display of furniture, were of modern character, equivalent in size to a window nearly 200 feet long.  A bronze and illuminated canopy protected shoppers and added to the dignity of the building.

The elevation, on classical lines, was constructed of Portland stone, with ornamental windows, and was floodlit at night.

Inside, staircases of polished oak were features of each floor, which were also served by express lifts.

The architect is unknown, but likely to have been the same one used to design many of James Woodhouse’ similar-looking stores.

Construction was by Sheffield-based George Longden and Son, who had also cleared the site, using materials of ‘British and Empire origin,’ and incorporating nearly 200 tons of British steelwork for the frame. Ornate plastering inside was completed by Hudson and Dore of Crookes.

James Woodhouse and Son, house furnishers, Nos. 33-35 Fargate. 1950-1955. Image: Picture Sheffield

British and Colonial was created after it bought James Woodhouse of Glasgow and Edinburgh, as well as furniture retailers in Newcastle, Middlesbrough, and Sunderland. James Woodhouse is recorded in the records of Gillows of Lancaster, and it is thought he carried out his apprenticeship here.

The company traded as James Woodhouse and Son and expanded throughout Great Britain, Toronto, Quebec, and in 1936 had opened a New York  store on West 34th-Street, Fifth Avenue. Its success was due to selling modern furniture at the lowest price, and by providing convenient and economical means of payment.

In 1945, British and Colonial was bought by Great Universal Stores and Woodhouse lasted on Fargate until the late1970s/early 1980s. Its eventual closure, and that of its sister company Cavendish, was the result of GUS divesting much of its physical retail subsidiaries to concentrate on mail order, property, and finance. In 2006, it was split into two separate companies. Experian which continues to exist, and Home Retail Group which was bought by Sainsbury’s in 2016.

33-35 Fargate eventually became Topshop/Topman, and for a while had a branch of Dorothy Perkins. It closed in 2020, a few months before the collapse of Philip Green’s Arcadia Group.

And so, the next time you walk past, look at this old building, and remember its overlooked history.

Fargate looking towards Town Hall Square from outside Nos 33/35, James Woodhouse and Son, House Furnishers, 1950-1955. Image: Picture Sheffield, and a similar view today. Image: DJP/2022

©2022 David Poole. All Rights Reserved.

Categories
Buildings

45-47 Fargate – the building’s secret is revealed after demolition

Site of 45-47 Fargate. The building has been completely demolished. Image: DJP/2022

It’s all gone wrong at 45-47 Fargate, better known as the former Next store.

When the chain store relocated from the corner of Fargate and Norfok Row, the building was earmarked for a £1.5m makeover. It was to become a café/restaurant with external alterations including replacement facades, second floor extension and the formation of a roof terrace, with provision for a rooftop plant enclosure.

The application was made by Woodhead Investments and work started last year.

Architect design of proposed building. Image: Woodhead Investments

But in April, David Walsh, in The Star, showed photographs of the site, and the building had been demolished.

Owner David Woodhead of Woodhead Investments explained they had encountered structural problems. Original cast iron columns they hoped to reuse had proved too weak, forcing them to start from scratch.

However, the photographs revealed something interesting.

Demolition revealed old brickwork that didn’t fit in with what most of us thought to be a nineteen sixties construction. And the inclusion of cast iron columns certainly raised questions.

The site was once occupied by the “Lord’s House” which incorporated a Catholic Chapel. This was demolished in 1815 to make way for commercial buildings.

And digging deeper, we find that historical maps show an amalgamation of properties from the middle of the 19th Century onwards… and these formed the structure of the building recently demolished.

Demolition revealed brickwork that suggested the building was much older than appeared. Images: Top – DJP/2022, Bottom – Sheffield Star

According to the planning application, remnants of the original shops fronting Fargate were visible in the basement, where substantial stone walls were incorporated into the existing framed structure.

And we find that underneath the early 1960s façade was the framed structure of the original three-storey shop, although the pitched roofs had been replaced with a flat roof.

We must be grateful to Picture Sheffield because we can see what the building looked like. In a photograph, taken between 1915-1925, it was occupied by Robert Hanbridge and Sons, hosiers, hatters, and glovers.

In 1953, it was purchased by Joseph Hepworth and Son, tailors, of Leeds, for £100,000, and after reconstruction and modernisation opened as a branch of Hepworths. The company rebranded to Next in the 1980s and stayed here until its closure in 2019.

The building was not deemed worthy of architectural interest and the sixties development destroyed much of its original character. However, we have lost another piece of Sheffield history, even if we didn’t know it still existed.

The building at the corner of Fargate and Norfolk Row was occupied by Robert Hanbidge and Sons Ltd., Hosiers and Glovers, in the early twentieth century. Image: Picture Sheffield
Opening advertisement for Hepworths in 1952 showing the original look of the building. Image: British Newspaper Archive
Hepworths was rebranded as Next in the 1980s and remained until 2019. Image: Realty

UPDATE –
David Walsh, writing for The Star, said that construction of a new building was due to re-start in July 2022 after a four month delay. The project was held up due to the unexpected requirement for steel girders and soaring prices. Original columns they hoped to reuse turned out not to be steel but cast iron which was too weak, forcing them to start from scratch. It is hoped that the building might be completed in January 2023.

©2022 David Poole. All Rights Reserved.

Categories
Buildings

Kelham Island – new planning application for apartments

Architects plan for 180 Shalesmoor, Sheffield. Image: CODA Architecture

The appeal of Kelham Island shows no signs of abating. Next up is a planning application for 122 apartments and a commercial unit in a six storey block at the corner of Corporation Street and Alma Street.

The planning application, called 180 Shalesmoor, has been submitted by CODA Architecture on behalf of R.S. Sabkha Construction and Developments Ltd.

The site is currently occupied by a few car repair workshops, a collection of one and two storey buildings in various states of disrepair.

Back in the 1700s this was an area of orchards and fields related to Coulston Croft, but the area was divided up along the Don into parcels of land which would later be filled by industrial development.

The area known as Kelham Island was one of the largest and most significant industrial zones in Sheffield. Its position along the River Don was very advantageous in the early days of industry for transportation and power. The surrounding areas such as St. Vincent’s and Bridgehouses were densely packed residential areas, many traditional back-to-back style houses were home to the many industrial workers for Kelham.

Existing site. Image: CODA Architecture

The site itself has housed some form of industrial property since it was first built on. It was originally called Mill Works, and maps dating back to 1850 show a steel and iron wire factory on site called Pilot Works which occupied much of the site, part of which became Corporation Street when it was introduced in the 1860-70s. Sections were added and removed from the works over the early 20th century.

Most recently it was occupied by City Centre Clutch, Yello Car & Van Hire, and VMC Bodyshop fronting along Corporation Street. It was on the market for £1.4m and was bought in December.

180 Shalesmoor, Sheffield. Images: CODA Architecture
Categories
Streets

Uncle Tom’s Cabin and the Loyal Order of Ancient Shepherds

Backfields looking towards Division Street in 1937. Image: Picture Sheffield

Backfields, a cess-pit of filth, was how it was described in the 1870s. These days, we know it as an unassuming narrow lane running between Division Street and Wellington Street. Once it was rural idyll, the fields behind Coal Pit Lane (Cambridge Street) but by the mid-1800s contained slum housing and workshops.

There were a few unsavoury public houses to satisfy the thirst of the poor and were joined in the 1850s by another one.

It was an ambitious attempt by John Banks to capitalise on the success of ‘The Book of the Age,’ and he called his small hostelry Uncle Tom’s Cabin.

‘Uncle Tom’s Cabin’, in full, ‘Uncle Tom’s Cabin; or, Life Among the Lowly,’ was written by Harriet Beecher Stowe, published in serialised form in the United States in 1851-52 and in book form from 1852 onwards. An abolitionist novel, it achieved popularity, particularly among white readers in America’s north, by vividly dramatising the experience of slavery.

The first London edition appeared in 1852 and sold 200,000 copies. “Anything in such universal demand has never been known in the history of literature. Many booksellers aver that they are selling nothing else, the trade for the time being seemingly centred in this one book, which, unlike almost all others, presents equal attractions to both old and young,” reported the Sheffield Independent.

It was a brave move by John Banks, and one that probably raised a few eyebrows.

Very little is known about Uncle Tom’s Cabin and by the 1860s had been let out to another tenant before disappearing.

However, Uncle Tom’s Cabin had another claim to fame.

In 1857, a new lodge in connection with the Loyal Order of Ancient Shepherds – Ashton Unity, was formed at the house of John Banks, under the sign of Uncle Tom’s Cabin.

This strange society had been formed on Christmas Day 1826, when several groups came together to create a mutually beneficial society. It came into existence in consequence of the refusal of the officers of the Manchester Unity to permit the opening of an additional lodge in Ashton-Under-Lyne.

The aim of the Order of Ancient Shepherds was “To relieve the sick, bury the dead, and assist each other in all cases of unavoidable distress, so far as in our power lies, and for the promotion of peace and goodwill towards the human race.”

They drew their mythology from biblical sources, emphasising pastoral aspects of mutuality that could be exercised for and by members of the lodge.

The pioneers attached importance to regalia and symbolism. When completing lodge business all members had to wear aprons made of lambskins with the wool on. The Chief Shepherd was to wear a mantle. Guardians were decorated with sheep shears, and to wear broad brimmed hats, and the Minstrel was to carry a harp, an imitation of the Biblical shepherd David.

In 1829 it was designated the Loyal Order of Ancient Shepherds. Loyal referring to the Crown, and Shepherds referring to the nativity of Jesus.

Loyal Order of Ancient Shepherds. A photograph of typical regalia. Sadly, not in Sheffield, but taken at Springhills, Shotts, about 1896. Image: North Lanarkshire Council

Shepherdry was introduced into Sheffield with the Shepherd’s Care Lodge in 1852. It was followed by the opening of the Sir Colin Campbell Lodge in 1853 and afterwards several other lodges, including Uncle Tom’s Cabin, opened.

It held its national AGM at the Cutlers’ Hall in 1867 and at the Church Institute in 1886. It survived in Sheffield until 1930 when all the Sheffield District lodges transferred to the City of Leeds District.

Interestingly, the society still exists, and became Shepherds Friendly in the 1990s, now offering Isas, investments, life insurance and income protection.

©2022 David Poole. All Rights Reserved.