Butcher Row

Once again Kaga we are indebted to you for your insight into the past. It's easy for us nowadays to criticise what appeared to be poor decisions before the war, especially the "butchering" of many old streets, but as always, with a bit of perspective given to us by someone who lived through those times, we are able to glean some of the reasoning that might have been used in those far off darker times. Many thanks for helping us to understand our heritage a little better.

A really nice and early image of Butcher Row. Note the two jettied buildings on the left. Usually images only show one and a later brick building. William Morris Gallery

and an 1863 dated engraving looking the other way - Edited by member, 30th May 2018 6:25 am

Some good detail here on a busy shopping day for one of our most favourite buildings in LBR -

NeilsYard, Nice clear photo, I do so wish we had a date, those iron bedsteads, where we used to have to polish the brass corner knobs, we used to unscrew them and leave little notes to each other inside them.

Sorry Kaga - I do try to add dates when I know them. Can never get enough of Butcher and Little Butcher though

NeilsYard No need to be sorry, I'm pleased with everything you post, but dates help me to re-live the part kinda. The Olde Curiosity Shop, did you note the window box at the top and the side, and I believe on the balcony just above the word Olde was a bird cage with a lovely singing bird that filled the street with song. Both the Row and Little Row were just called 'Market Row' - as everyone got pay packets in their hand on Fridays then the Row stayed open till it was almost dark. Most women knew the stall sellers and shopmen. The crockery man was called the Potman, he sold pots and pans; the fish man was Sourpuss, always grumpy; the fruit man was Gabby, talked too much; the the carpet man was Lino, and so forth - the women named them well. It was like a shopping lane, bootsale, and market all rolled into one. By the time I was six/seven my mother would embarrass me. She would stand at the pot stall, admire a painted mug or cup, ask "how much?" "Eight pence to you, lady", shake her head and walk away - few minutes later she would walk back, pick it up, "how much?" "Eight pennies", shake her head, walk away. Come back later, both she and the pot man had an uncomfortable feeling by now. "Do ya want it for six-pence?" he said. Mother picked up the mug, counted out six pennies, gave them to the pot man, who wrapped it in newspaper, grumbling to himself. Mother walked away smiling - times were hard but she gave me the two pennies she had saved, it took me to the tuppenny rush at the Rivoli next morning.

Brill, Kaga

Must be womens' logic, Kaga, we are born with it.

Here a photo of the demise of Butcher Row, Neil.

Amazing, but very, very sad picture!

If they find my yo-yo, can I have it back please.

Thanks Prof - Yes I have seen that one before - but try not to look at it too much!

Neil Y. For people from the north parts of the city the trams stopped right outside the top of Butcher Row. So it was first point to visit, and to me always seemed crowded. There was always something cosy about Butcher Row, which always seemed longer than it really was there was so much to see, the pleasant aromas and bustle of the Row and more than what the address can tell you today. You could spend a good time looking at what was around you, the overhanging buildings, the nooks and crannies. The butcher's shop, besides all the meat, there were pork pies, some a foot across, tubs of lard, tubs of dripping, shelves of tins of oxo, gravy granules, jars of mustard, spices, and both metal and wood skewers (good for tent pegs). Across the yard wicker baskets and tin baths full of crockery, plates, pudding basins the like you won't see today, painted crockery with birds, fish, flowers. A shop had loads of pen-knives tied on thick paper, the knives about three inches long, half inch wide, with gaily coloured casing, all hung down the side of the door. A barrel full of mouse traps of all sizes and strengths, wooden clothes pegs, kids' paint boxes. The choice was endless, I loved it. All in a friendly way without agro.

A nice clear atmospheric image of 1892 Butcher Row.