Archaeology · Pottery · Waterways of Glossop

A Bridge Over Troubled Water…

Blimey! January flew by, and so did February. Apologies for the lack of activity on the blog of late, I’ll be back to more regular posting from now on. What ho! Well here we are, once more in lockdown. I know its for the greater good, and you’d be a fool – and indeed a dangerous moron – not to follow the rules… but dash it all, it’s starting to be a bit of a bore! Right, once more with a glass of the stuff that cheers here we go.

Whilst perusing the local history section of the library – during the heady days when such a thing was possible – I came upon an architectural drawing of the bridge over Glossop Brook at the end of George Street – officially known as ‘Coronation Bridge’. Now, those of you that know the bridge will also know that it isn’t the most lovely bridge in the world – it’s hidden away in the dark damp recesses of Harehills Park, covered in graffiti, and surrounded by the waste ground.

The location of the bridge is circled

But let’s look again, I say, as I think there is a hidden beauty here – a ‘rough diamond’ of sorts, only made of reinforced concrete. First, here is the architectural drawing:

It’s a very Art Deco style drawing, and quite fetching.

And here is the bridge as it is now:

Not the most attractive looking bridge, but I think it has a certain charm.

Comparing the plan with the actual bridge, they really did a good job. It is an understatement to say that I dislike concrete, but this has a certain Art Deco feel about it, and I honestly think it would look pretty good scrubbed up.

It is fairly forlorn, and could really do with a scrub up.
I like to imagine that the historical spirit of a place affects modern perceptions through things like graffiti: the foundry that once stood here would have been an extremely hot work environment – Hell Fire indeed.
Concrete, close up.
I particularly like the pink Mickey Mouse graffiti. What? It must be Mickey Mouse… look at the size of those ears.

The architectural drawing is dated 1928, so we might assume that it was built soon after that to replace the original Coronation Bridge, a railway footbridge that was presented to the town by Lord Howard in 1902 to celebrate the coronation of Edward VII. That bridge, notes the original Robert Hamnett, replaced other bridges that had been washed away numerous times by flooding. Now, far be it for me to question the original Mr Hamnett’s facts, but I can see no trace of these bridges on any of the earlier maps. For example, here is the area in 1880:

1880 1:500 scale. George Street is top centre, and you can see Shepley Mill and the George Street foundry.

Is it possible that he made a mistake?

Harehills Park is interesting in itself – I won’t go into too much detail, as the Glossop Heritage Trust has an excellent article on its history which you can read here. It has been known variously as Harehills Wood, Harehills, the People’s Park, the Sandhole, and Pinch Belly Park. These last two names are derived from the fact that during the ‘Cotton Famine‘ of the early 1860’s – a situation caused by the lack of imported cotton from America due to the ongoing Civil War there – men were employed there digging sand in order to provide work for them. In 1921 the park was given to the people of Glossop by Lord Howard in appreciation of the men of Glossop who served in the First World War, but also as a memorial to his son Philip Fitzalan Howard, a lieutenant in the Welsh Guards who died of wounds in France on 24th May 1918. The park was extensively remodelled and landscaped at this time, including the construction of the bridge, and was used as a recreation grounds and promenading area. Prior to this, the area was described as “hideously ugly; hen pens fenced with old fish boxes; old salmon tins, rhubarb roots, and a good quantity of other rubbish with plenty of muck and sludge thrown in”, and was known as a place for bare-knuckle prize fighting. It was also noted that “one part of it seemed to be nothing more than a vast tipping place”, and it is this part, one assumes, that keeps producing pottery. It has a been a particularly fruitful site to find pottery, to be honest – none of it too old, but its always there.

Prior to washing.

One assumes that the pottery has not travelled very far from the place of use, and so we might suggest that much of this rubbish came from the houses on St Mary’s Road, allowing us a peak into the lives of those living there. A more systematic approach and proper archaeological investigation could tell us a great deal – this is essentially what we, as archaeologists, do with pottery. Anyway, the sherds:

Fairly standard Late Victorian and Edwardian stuff, all from Harehills Park.

I’m not going to lie – a lot of it is pretty dull stuff, but there are some interesting bits and pieces, and this is a slice of domestic life in the Victorian and Edwardian periods.

  1. Plate or soup bow1 with an undulating rim of c.20cm, and a poor quality light blue transfer printed pattern – the transfer doesn’t match up at the join. Mid/Late Victorian
  2. 5 plain white rim sherds of 14, 8, 18, 16 and 16cm. Saucers, plates and cups. Victorian – 1920’s
  3. Fragment of a green glazed Majolica vessel, possibly vegetable-based. Utterly grotesque!
  4. Tiny fragment of a Sponge Ware decorated vessel. A rare occasion where I don’t know the shape – it has a carination in the body, so possibly an early mug or teacup. Victorian.
  5. Stone ware vessel, possibly a badly glazed marmalade pot – it has the grooves, but the surface is poor quality. C. 12cm diameter, so probably.
  6. 4 sherds of Annular Ware, Early to Late Victorian. This stuff starts much earlier than you expect (1780’s) and it looks almost modern.
  7. 2 sherds of a teacup rim, c.7cm rim diameter, and transfer printed on interior and exterior. Victorian.
  8. Base to a transfer printed willow pattern plate. Base diameter is 10cm, so the plate would be at least 10cm. The print shows a pagoda in the standard willow pattern style. Victorian.
  9. Rim sherds of 2 different Feather Edge bowls. Both date to between 1840 and 1890.
  10. A tiny fragment of green and white art glass bowl or cup, with an undulating rim. I quite like this.
  11. A saucer rim with a single green line below the edge. Refined, and quite nice. 12cm diameter.
  12. Handle to a whiteware cup. Quite fancy, and possibly Early Victorian. Or possibly not… this stuff is difficult to date properly.
  13. Red glazed rim to a jug or similar. Victorian.
  14. Flat glass shard with vertical (horizontal) grooves in, slight greenish tinge. Possibly the lens to a torch or car headlamp.
  15. Base and body of a porcelain teacup c.8cm in diameter, straight sided, 1920’s.
  16. Base and rim to 2 marmalade jars – base is 10cm diameter, rim is 11cm, Victorian to Edwardian.
  17. A beautifully coloured pale cobalt glass bottle. This is probably from a medicine bottle, and has what is called an ‘applied lip’, which means that the rim was made separately, and then melted onto the blown glass body. This is an inelegant solution to the problem of removing a blown glass bottle from the tube and leave a proper opening, and you can see the two parts twisted and melted together on the bit between the neck and shoulder in the next photo. You can read more about bottle finishings here:
Artful shot… shot, artfully.

What is also nice is that 3 sherds have maker’s marks on the bottom, allowing attribution and dates.

It’s not often I find maker’s marks. Nice.

Top sherd is marked either ‘Stone China’ or ‘Ironstone China’ which is a type of pottery that contains crushed feldspar in order to make it very strong and hardwearing. It was developed from about 1800 onwards, and this sherd is probably mid-Victorian. Bottom left is ‘Tuscan China’ made by RH and SL Plant at the Tuscan Works, Staffordshire. The logo dates it to the 1920’s and 1930’s, and was presumably broken and thrown away anytime after that, although presumably before the landscaping of the park. The bottom right is marked ‘Melba Bone China – Guaranteed Made In England’, and was made by Mayer and Sherratt, based in Longton, Staffordshire, and who operated between 1906 and 1941. So there you go.

Do have a look at the bridge the next time you go over or near it, as I think it deserves a closer look than it currently gets, and I hope that in the near future more is made of the area. Until then, look for pottery in the soil around the bridge, and think about mudlarking the bank of Glossop Brook there – I’m sure you’ll find something, but make sure you let me know what.

That’s all for this time. Apologies again for the lack of activity – real life has an annoying way of getting in the way of what you really want to do, but I will be posting more frequently… promise. Also, please do get in contact, for what ever reason, and follow me on Twitter too – I am quite active there. I am also working on a YouTube channel, where I can put videos of walks, mudlarking, digging, history bits, finds, and other shenanigans – it’s in the early stages, but I think it could be fun, but also a way of getting you all involved. Anyway, more soon, but in the meantime please take care of yourselves and each other – even just a cheery smile at your neighbour can make all the difference in these troublesome times. Until the next time I remain.

Your humble servant,

RH

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