A multi-use space, multi-tasking policemen, and a Marks and Sparks
Having reluctantly decided to stay in the Town Hall, the new Borough Council, to give themselves security, opened negotiations for a lease. But they also wanted the market; whilst Lord Howard continued to wield the Market Act powers, they weren’t in full control.
However, they couldn’t reach agreement, and in 1875 settled for the Town Hall only. Later, they tried to buy the whole lot, but His Lordship wanted £10,000, the equivalent of £1.3 million today, which they decided was too much, especially as some of them were now “radicals” who thought he ought to give it away.
In 1902, though, Lord H might have regretted holding out. At 12.40 am on Monday January 20th PC Chatterton noticed “a big blaze” in the Market Hall and ran to raise the alarm. Within six minutes John Hodgson, the Chief Constable, who amongst other things was also head of the Fire Brigade, was on the scene and he and his men managed to contain it, although about a third of the roof was destroyed (see pic). The hall was trading again by Saturday.
It was not as first built in 1845. It was trebled in size in 1854, and as the fixed stalls were only round the outside, there was a big “flexible space” in the middle which, in 1865, hosted two music festivals with over 400 performers. It may even have been too big, as in 1875 Lord Howard felt able to partition off one wing to create a drill hall for the new Volunteer Corps. The officers were, of course, the millowners, complete with uniforms out of Gilbert and Sullivan.
The outdoor market was on the Victoria Street side, where the old Post Office now is, and as now, included wooden cabins. The other side would have hosted the Monday cattle and wholesale market, and the fairs, but the total area was limited as until the 1880s Glossop Brook was open.
In 1845 there were 10 butchers in the hall, but by 1912 only two. One was Ballingtons, and in the 1930s Sam Ballington jnr wrote down his memories of how things were before World War 1. The market – outdoor on Fridays, indoor on Saturdays, stayed open till 10 or 11 pm, and it could be “packed” in the evenings “after the many amusement houses disgorged their first-house patrons.” Five minutes before the hall was due to close, “a bell was rung and the police came to prevent the public from access.” There were three tripe stalls outdoors and one indoors, and “after the first house at the Theatre Royal (next door on Victoria Street) a crowd would gather in front of the huge plates of tripe, which was fingered up with lashings of salt and vinegar.”
Heating in the hall was minimal – just three coke braziers, which could be used to grill steak or kippers or bake potatoes. Lighting was by gas to the stalls round the side, but if the light coming through the lantern roof wasn’t enough, the traders in the middle could use naphthalene flares, hired for 3d from a man on the outside market “who pre-heated and lit them.” What Mr Hodgson, Chief Fire Officer etc, etc, thought of this practice can be imagined.
And there was a Marks – Marks and Spencers’ Penny Bazaar, until the firm moved on to big shops and underwear. Times were changing, too, in other ways. The biggest mill of all, Sidebottom’s at Waterside, went bust in 1899 and others declined; there were working-class Socialists on the Council; and in 1914 Lord Howard’s heir married an heiress with a house in Yorkshire which was much posher than Glossop Hall. And then during World War 1, one local firm did very well, and the town got a can-do Mayor…..
NEXT – Part 16: Owd Fussy, Madam Mayor, and a generous munitions magnate
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