Category Archives: Dog Kennels

26 – House of Correction

House of Correction Chesterfield
Map: C3

The House of Correction or the Lock Up in Nov 1912 just before demolition. The building was erected, in 1614 on the banks of the River Hipper – The tall chimney of the Silk Mill can be seen behind.
(Courtesy of Jane Kirk)

Map: C3

Drawing by Elsie Cannam

prisoners-names-carvingPrisoners carved their names on a door in the House of Correction


We have  found a few references to the House of Correction, most of them very brief.

The first:

“In the early 1830s this court met annually in October before the Steward of the Manor, John Charge, a local lawyer who presided from 1818 to 1841 and who in 1830 became Clerk of the Peace for Derbyshire. A Grand Jury and Petty Jury were sworn in and it was they who nominated two men to serve as Constables and usually three as Assistant Constables. The Constables normally served for two years, one new appointment being made each year, but the Assistant Constables tended to remain in office for several years. The only other old manorial offices still being filled at this date were those of Pinder and Beadle. From 1831 to 1835 they were filled by John Bower, who was also an Assistant Constable and gaoler at the House of Correction. During these years the cases considered by the court arose from breaches of a small number of the bye-laws and were to a remarkable degree concerned with annoyances and dangers arising from the neglect of buildings.”
History of Chesterfield Vol III byJM Bestall & DV Fowkes

The second reference:

Not only the lady of quality, but her more plebeian sister, had a tendency to erratic conduct and especially to prating. There is a saying that “a woman will have the last word,” but formerly she had both the first and the last, and in self-defence the men, barbarous and unsentimental, no doubt, fashioned a ducking-stool and placed it in the Silk Mill Dam, with the object of taming all shrews. A bad- tempered woman, sitting in the chair that was plunged into the water with every dip of the cross-beam, had a wet time of it, and a rhymester, who had possibly married a virago, chuckling at her plight, wrote :—

No brawling wives, no furious wenches,
No fire so hot, but water quenches.

The poorhouse and the old prison were in South- place, near the Silk Mill and the ducking-stool, and it is said that not only scolding wives, but female prisoners and refractory paupers were subjected to the cleansing virtues of the current that sped to “ the shuttle.” Dr. Johnson, who classified our language, was also a stickler for discipline and remarked to a lady : u Madam, we have different modes of restraining evil—stocks for the men, the ducking-stool for women, and the pound for beasts.” Yet it seems incredible, in an age ot political and social freedom , that the ducking- stool and the scold’s bridle, or iron headpiece that kept a woman’s tongue absolutely and cruelly still, should have remained so long in use.

scolds-bridleThe prison, or lock-up, as it was called, is now a beerhouse. Its thick walls and barred windows were apt to foster awe in the youth of the town, and its cells, even in Superintendent Radford’s time, safe- guarded many a desperado. Politely styled “ The House of Correction,” it was undoubtedly a corrective the most boisterous breakers of the law, for it was damp, dark, and gruesome enough to yield scene for weird story.
Modern Chesterfield by John Pendleton & William Jacques

The third reference:

Possibly on the assumption that there is some affinity between pauperism and crime, the old House of Correction was situated within a stone’s throw of the poor house. The lock-up, as it was familiarly called by its most frequent visitors, was erected in 1614, on the north bank of the Hipper, opposite the Silk-mill, at the bottom of South Place. The approach to it, past the Bowling Green, and along the once narrow walk beyond, has been the scene of many a fierce fight, in which the police were usually the conquerors. The old building, with its thick walls, and heavily- barred doors, has been the temporary home of many notorious criminals, some of whom scrawled strange legends on the cell sides, to while away the dreary hours of their captivity. Years ago, Mr. Hollingsworth used to be the gaoler; then Superintendent Radford lived there; and now, the old prison is – a beer-house!
Old & New Chesterfield by Tatler

The fourth reference:

The House of Correction

This building was erected, in 1614, in a low damp situation, on the bank of the river Hipper, the worst place that could be found for such a purpose. It is under the superintendence of the magistrates of the hundred of Scarsdale, but is too small to admit of the classification of prisoners. When the question concerning the removal of the Midsummer Sessions to Derby was discussed, it was proposed to discontinue the House of Correction at Chesterfield; but that project was abandoned. Mr. Hollingworth is the present gaoler.
The History of Chesterfield and descriptive accounts of Chatsworth, Hardwick and Bolsover by George Hall 1839

The fifth reference:

A gaol is mentioned as early as 1196, when the King as Lord of the Manor authorised the expenditure of £6 13s 4d for its maintenance. It served the whole Wapentake of Scarsdale, as a short term lock-up, and other records show that prisoners were moved to Nottingham and Peak Castle. In 1658 it was under the Moot Hall; in 1788 it was replaced by accomodation on the ground floor of the new Town Hall.
A “House of Correction” for minor offenders was built about 1615 in the Cockpit Yard. It was to accomodate prisoners from Scarsdale and the High Peak. It is shown on the survey of 1633, and described by by Ford, in 1839, as being ‘in a low damp situation on the bank of the river Hipper.’
“The Book of Chesterfield” by Roy Cooper

27 – Theatre Royal

The Old Theatre Royal: The Manly Era

By Lesley Phillips

Chesterfield’s theatre was built by the Corporation in 1786 on land to the north of the old Municipal Hall, between what is now New Beetwell Street and Theatre Yard. Over the years the building was let to a number of managers, and became known as the ‘Theatre Royal’ in the 1840s. It closed at the beginning of 1872, and a new Theatre Royal was later built in Corporation Street, now remembered as the Hippodrome.

The old Theatre Royal was a small Georgian theatre, with pit, boxes, and cheap seats upstairs in the gallery. There were chairs in the boxes, but all the other seats were long benches. Until gas was installed in 1830 it was lit by candlelight. Touring companies came to perform at Chesterfield during the race week, and sometimes there would also be a short winter season, and occasionally concerts and other spectacles. Government censorship limited what could be performed in the theatre, and even restricted the number of nights the theatre could be opened each year.

A typical evening’s entertainment at Chesterfield Theatre in the first half of the 19th century would consist of a drama, followed by a musical interlude with dancing, and concluding with a farce. Often there were new plays, fresh from a successful run in London. Old favourites such as Sheridan’s Pizarro, or the Spaniards in Peru were staged from time to time, and the plays of Shakespeare might also appear on the bill. Tickets for the box seats were 3 shillings, the pit 2 shillings and the cheap seats in the gallery 1 shilling (roughly the equivalent of £3 today), and the evening’s performance might last for up to four hours.

Like many provincial theatres, Chesterfield’s Theatre Royal fell into decline in the second half of the 19th century, as the building became dilapidated, it fell out of fashion, and lost its respectability. It also lost its audiences to competitors such as the assembly rooms, which were cleaner and larger, and the music halls where the price of admission might be returned ‘in liquor’. Chesterfield’s old Theatre Royal was at its most successful in the years 1818 – 1839, and 1846 – 1855 when it was let to two very able theatrical managers, Thomas Hill Wilson Manly and John Faucit Saville. It also enjoyed a brief renaissance in the 1860s, under the management of Chesterfield Amateur Dramatic Society.

The first of these two managers, Thomas Hill Wilson Manly, was born Thomas Hill Wilson, but like many in his profession assumed a memorable surname for the stage. He joined the theatrical company which toured the theatres in the East Midlands as the leading man, married the manager’s stepdaughter, and eventually became manager of the company. His ‘star turn’ was as Shylock in the Merchant of Venice, a part which patrons of the theatre asked him to perform at Chesterfield on two occasions.

Actor Walter Donaldson described Manly’s style of acting in his memoirs ‘Recollections of an actor’ in 1865; “Manly repudiated all that eternal twisting about on the stage, grinning and bustle, which London comedians resort to.” This was echoed in a review of his performance as Shylock in the Derbyshire Courier, 13th October 1832, “Mr Manly’s performance is distinguished by its quietness – he does not “tear passion into rags”, – he imitates nature.”

Manly was said to be a strict but fair character, which were probably essential qualities to succeed in his chosen profession. At Chesterfield on one occasion he had to contend with a drunken fiddler named Fryer, who he turned out unpaid, and his notebooks also contain some disparaging remarks about some of the actors in his company. He wrote of one actor named Stanhope that he was “a mean looking little reptile”, and soon paid him off. He also dispensed with the services of a lad named Tye, as he was too “dull”. Walter Donaldson wrote that Manly was “A terror to those novices whom agents sent to fill the positions of experienced actors”, but that “He paid what he agreed for; he instructed the young actor in his profession, and where there was any dawning of genius, he encouraged it.”

It was Manly’s practice to engage one big star to play at Chesterfield for 3 or 4 nights, usually during the race week. Some of these stars have now faded into obscurity, but some have left their mark in the annals of theatre history.

Child star Clara Fisher was 10 years old when she played at Chesterfield in 1821, probably acting as a juvenile Richard III, a part for which she was famous. She later went to live and work in America and became a big favourite over there. In 1830 the famous actress Maria Foote appeared for two nights. She was a great beauty, although said to be an indifferent actress, and had become famous by the press coverage of her involvement in a breach of promise lawsuit. She made her final appearance on the stage in 1831 at the age of 33, before scandalising society by marring Charles Stanhope, the 4th Earl of Harrington and retiring to live at Elvaston Castle in Derbyshire.

In 1831 Irish actress Harriet Smithson, who had had great success on the continent, performed for three nights; she later married the composer Hector Berlioz and was the inspiration for his ‘Symphonie Fantastique’. Two years later actor James William Wallack came to Chesterfield, following a successful tour of America. He later returned to New York and opened a theatre on Broadway named ‘Wallack’s’; and in 1835 the famous Miss Ellen Tree, one of the finest actresses of her day, came to perform in the theatre at Chesterfield for four nights. Tree later married Charles, the son of actor Edmund Kean.

Eclipsing all these stars was the tragedian William Charles Macready. ‘The Great Macready’ performed at the Theatre Royal, Chesterfield for three nights in 1834, and his performance is said to have attracted the attendance of the Duke of Devonshire. Macready had some connection with the local theatrical circuit, as his father, William Macready, had been manager of the theatre in Sheffield, and his mother Christina was born in Derbyshire. Manly knew the Macreadys, having written in one of his notebooks in 1821 “Macready, a cold, repulsive coxcomb – mean”. Whether he was referring to the father or the son is not clear.

Macready recorded his visit to Chesterfield in his diary:
21st September 1834
“Arrived at Chesterfield in the usual agony of anticipated playing, had my luggage carried to the Angel Inn, where the rooms offered me were tobacco-perfumed and dirty. I was at last driven to take refuge in the ball-room…”
22nd September 1834
“Walked round the market place, and so home by the church – examining the wooden spire, curious and unsightly, observed the date 1003 upon a porch. Laid out my clothes, sent for a play-bill and a History of Chesterfield – not very interesting. Wish to see Hardwick and Chatsworth if practicable. Read a little of Hamlet, which I acted to the dullest, most insensible audience, and among the most brutish I ever yet had to endure. I did my best, but occasionally felt the lethargy of the audience steal over me. My friend Horatio did everything at night contrary to what I had requested in the morning, but I think I never either looked or offered an ill-natured thing…”

Despite Macready’s poor opinion of the evening’s performance, the local paper, the Derbyshire Courier, was effusive with praise: “To see a good play, such as Hamlet, with the principal character so perfectly represented as it was by Macready, has ever been to us the highest, the richest intellectual banquet, the noblest repast that our mind can ever feast on.”
(Derbyshire Courier 27th September 1834 page 2.)

Despite the general decline in theatre attendances in the 1830s, under Manly’s management Chesterfield Theatre continued to draw good crowds. In October 1839, however, ill health forced Thomas Hill Wilson Manly into retirement, and he died in Nottingham on the 20th November 1840, aged 68. Along with his wife and several of his children, he had performed at the theatre in Chesterfield for almost 40 years, and his retirement marked the end of a golden era in the history of Chesterfield’s old Theatre Royal.

The research for this article was made possible by a bursary jointly awarded by the British Library, Cilip, and Libraries & Information East Midlands (LIEM).

25 – Falcon Inn & Yard

Falcon Inn & Yard
Map: D1

Built in the 16th century the Falcon Inn was originally a coaching inn at the eastern end of Low Pavement – in the image above we can see the entrance to Falcon Yard behind the first of the three columns.

Later, the building became Everest’s Falcon Dining Rooms, advertising:

Caterers for Wedding Breakfasts, Dinner Parties, Cold Luncheons, Suppers, Balls, Teas and Picnic Parties. All arrangements made for Outdoor Catering.

DINING ROOM, suitable for the accommodation of Large Parties.

Restaurant at Popular Prices. Bass’, Allsopp’s, and other Beers on draught and in bottle. Carefully selected Wines. All Table Requisites are let on Hire.

To the left Turner Bros shop can be seen and on the extreme left is the Commercial Hotel.

But to many people  from Chesterfield it will always be Bodens – the best fish and chips in town!

Bodens Falcon Yard Chesterfield


 Falcon Yard Fire

“Falcon Yard narrowly escaped destruction by fire on January 3rd 1867. On a bitterly cold winter’s night, as the youths of Chesterfield returned from the ice-covered pond in Stephenson’s Park, jingling their skates as they ran, they saw a rude, red glow in the sky, and, hurrying towards Low Pavement, they found the premises of Mr. Wilson, the grocer, on fire.

The flames, bursting out of the warehouse, stretched their hot, scorching tongues across the narrow yard, and licked the side of Mr. John Walton’s former residence, as if they would devour it too. The firemen worked with skill and heroism; but the flames extended, and the sleeping rooms near the shop became cauldrons of thick overpowering smoke, against which the flames lapped fiercely. The figures of anxious men and women moved restlessly on the pavement, now in the dark shadow, and then in the dazzling glow caused by the fire.

Amid the sounds of falling glass and crackling timber, and the thud, thud of the fire-engine, a great fear came over the crowd. “Oh God!” shouted an agonised voice, “There are children in the house.” Who would save them? As if by magic a tall ladder reared its thin length to the chamber windows. Nimbly up the rungs stepped the lithe form of “Dick” Maw, careless of the blinding smoke, and the hot breath the spreading flames sent forth, in his eagerness to save the little children’s lives. Brave “Dare-devil Dick!” Many a mother’s prayer for his safety was uttered, as he disappeared within the smoke shrouded rooms, where dense, grey vapours twined about, like serpents intent upon their prey. Well-nigh overpowered with smoke and heat “Dick” groped about on his noble errand. Outside, every moment seemed like an hour. The suspense was painful. Was he able to save them? With begrimed face and scorched clothing, he fought his way to one of the windows, with a human being held securely in his strong arms; and, eventually, all were saved without a scratch – except for the servant, who, panic-stricken, took a frantic leap into the roadway, and suffered for it.

Meanwhile a huge barrier of flame stretched across the yard; and through the flames dashed brave men, like Charles Rollinson, in their anxiety to save life and property. Mr. Walton’s premises were in imminent danger, and his children were removed to a place of safety. Fiercer and fiercer the fire raged; but it had to fight against men of stern resolve and undaunted hearts, and at last gave up the struggle. It was curbed at midnight, and at dawn had been utterly snuffed out, without seriously ravaging the old Falcon buildings, although it had almost gutted Mr. Wilson’s warehouse, and a part of his dwelling.

When daylight came, hundreds of citizens came also to see the havoc the flames had made, and they found themselves in a nasty dilemma as they made their way through the warm, sticky stream of treacle and sugar that flowed slowly down the yard towards the bakehouse that has so long been illumined with genial “Doboy’s” wit.”

Old and New Chesterfield by Tatler.


The Shambles have a morbid interest too, for those who like to read of crime. In a curious old shop – now demolished – near the Packers Row outlet, a murder was committed on Sunday night, December 7th, 1845. John Platts, owing money to George Collis, enticed his creditor into the shed which he used as a butcher’s shop, attacked him with a spade and killed him in the presence of Morley, a confederate. The noise made in the shed, usually deserted on Sunday night, attracted attention, and there was knocking, and a shout “ Who’s there?” “Nobody,” replied Platts, unfastening the door, and coming out of the shop in a gleam of light. “ He’s got his sweetheart inside,” remarked one of the curious group, laughing; but Platts, taking the loiterers into his confidence, said ; “ No, Hannah has gone to Church.” Then he coolly returned to his victim, to ponder how he could secrete the body; and the next day, in reply to the inquiry “ Where’s Collis ? ” said he had gone to Manchester.

The finding of the remains in a sack, in a cesspool, at the bottom of Bunting’s Yard, the discovery of parts of the body beneath the refuse eight months afterwards, and the arrest, trial, sentence to death, and execution of John Platts for the murder were dramatic incidents that have thrilled many in the telling. The watch and boots belonging to George Collis were found in the possession of a member of the Platts family, and a pocket handkerchief bearing the initials “ G C,” worked by his sweetheart, was discovered with the remains of the murdered man, and at Derby Assizes there remained no doubt in the judge’s mind, as he assumed the black cap, that John Platts had committed the atrocious deed, inasmuch as he said, in passing sentence :

“It is a sad spectacle indeed—a very dreadful offence. You are said to have been, when younger, a person of good character ; and one is at a loss to discover what was the real motive for the dreadful deed. That is only known to the Almighty, who is the searcher of all hearts. I can only trust that you are really sensible of the enormity of the crime, and hope that yon are really repentant of it.”

Yet Platts, in his confession, maintained that Morley was the murderer, and that he wheeled the body in a barrow to the cesspool in Bunting’s Yard. Other folks believed, after Platts had paid penalty with his life for the crime, that he was innocent. Anyhow, Morley died a horrible death in delirium; and Antony Lant and Bob Statham, also suspected of complicity in the tragedy, went to the dogs, and dragged out remorseful lives !

Modern Chesterfield – John Pendleton & William Jacques 1908

“Men I Have Known” & The Falcon Yard

I recollect reading reading an article, “Men I have known.” There was a tinge of pathos in the title, for it spoke of friendship severed by death, and of “the pain there is in parting.”

Sauntering along the Low Pavement, soon after the shop-boys have taken down the shutters, I see with my mind’s eye the wide causeway thronged with people, who will never tread its flags again.

James Lingard, with spectacles on nose, is looking severely over his black stock out of his tea shop. William Bingham, with his broad-brim, and methodical walk, is striding towards the post office.

Matthew Dobbs, a real Boniface, stout as Daniel Lambert, leans on his stick, at the top of the Three Tuns yard. William Wordsworth, who loved his glass and song, comes limping along gaily, notwithstanding the fearful twinges that are rioting in his gouty leg.

Charles Haslam, in his big white apron, gives one pleasant greeting as he turns down the Falcon yard, and there beams on his genial face the gratifying reflection, “I am saucemaker to the Queen.” Cooper, the printer, and parish clerk, is offering a pinch of snuff to one of his customers. Joseph Bettison, the druggist, with his strangely-shaped grey cap, crosses the road from the Shambles, a dapper, quiet little gentleman, who scarcely speaks above a whisper.

Stately EG Maynard rides by in his scarlet coat, on his way to the hunting-field. Bluff Captain Wood, with his nautical stories, and hearty sea-dog voice, gossips with his many friends, in language strong and maritime. Arch-deacon Hill, whose life is as spotless and pure as his own white kerchief, steps out of his brougham to give some poor creature a kindly word, and proffer material help.

Daniel, the chemist, who has a kindly heart, although he speaks like “Jingle,” “Sam Weeler’s” erratic enemy, dodges about behind his counter, amusing his customers with his singular expression, “Thank you, sir. Yes, sir, mum; yes, mum, sir.”

These, and many other familiar figures, have done with this world’s troubles, and entered the silent land. The signboards on the Low Pavement are gradually changing; many old houses have been effaced; but the men who bore them are not yet forgotten.

The shops and long yards that skirt this broad business-way have altered, as wen as the inhabitants. At the South Street corner of the Low Pavement, Charles Haslam. had a quaint, bow-windowed, confectioner’s shop. The large shop under the piazzas was formerly Whitehead’s flour store – noted for a burglary that never took place. Previously – years previously – it was a portion of the Falcon Inn, a fine old English hostelry, with big, heavily-raftered rooms, and gigantic fireplaces, and thick draperies of Yorkshire cloth to keep out the cold.

The Falcon Yard has been the scene of comedy, as well as tragedy. On it west side stands the old Assembly Room, recently a printing-office. Here a very impudent trick was once played upon a too-confiding public. An adventurer placarded the town with posters, advertising an entertainment of unusual excellence. Entertainments were scarce; tickets were bought readily; the night came; the Assembly Room was crowded; the hour arrived for the commencement of the performance; but the platform remained deserted. The audience stamped, and shouted, and whistled; but the talented artistes did not come. Indeed, there were none about. The whole thing was a hoax, and by the time it was discovered, the adventurer, with the ticket receipts in his pocket, was scudding across the fields, supremely indifferent to the rage of those he had basely hoodwinked. The “entertainment’’ provoked both wrath and mirth; but it was dangerous to ask anybody how they enjoyed it. The mirth was a privilege confined to the citizens who had not purchased tickets!

Old & New Chesterfield by Tatler


1 – Dog and Gun

dog and gun yardThe Dog and Gun Inn was in Brown’s Yard and is the prominent building to the left of centre – this photo is taken from the Inn’s yard, looking north towards Low Pavement.

Browns Yard and Dog & GunIn the picture above we can see the Dog Kennels passage which led to Castle Yard from Browns Yard. The building with the sign seen at the end of the alley was the Dog and Gun Inn.

According to Hirst’s Chesterfield Pubs the Dog and Gun was “Bought by Home Brewery in September 1898 for £1,800. Licence given up with that of the Tree Tuns for new pub on Markham Road. Closed on 2nd June 1912. Now demolished, the site occupied by the lower part of the bus station.”


Lively times at the Dog and Gun

Derbyshire Times June 20th 1898

Ann Forrest, landlady of the “Dog and Gun”, Castle Yard, Chesterfield, was summoned for keeping open her licensed premises open during prohibited hours on the 14th inst.
– Mr Middleton prosecuted, and Mr A. Slack defended, and pleaded not guilty.
– Mr Middleton said the defendant was the license holder of the “Dog and Gun” down Castle Yard. It was always very difficult to keep this place under proper police supervision on account of its isolation from civilisation.

On the night in question there were a lot of men who had been turned out from the “Castle Vaults” and other houses and had congregated there, remaining until 3 o’clock in the morning. What these men did formed the subject for inquiry by the Bench on Monday, when a man named Conroy was committed to prison for assault. They made such a disturbance that the residents were unable to sleep.

Close to the public house was a piece of waste land, which had been an old garden, and which belonged to the licensed premises, and it was on this ground that the men assembled. About 12.30 Conroy was seen to go round with his hat collecting from the others. When he had collected a certain amount of money he gave it to another man who took the money into the “Dog and Gun” having to pass Mrs Forrest on the way in. He came out shortly afterwards with a stone gallon bottle of beer, which was shared amongst the men. When they had finished they sent a woman, named Mary Ann Foy, for more.

Sergeant Evans went down the yard at 2 o’clock, and as result was badly assaulted.
– Harry Bargh, Brown’s Yard, Castle Yard said on Sunday morning there was a big noise, over a dozen men being there. They were singing and making a row. Witness stood watching the people for an hour and a half. When he first came out, about 12.30, Conroy was there and was going round with his hat. Some coppers were put in his hat and he gave the money to Wm Buck. The men were about three yards from the door where Mrs Forrest was standing. Buck went past Mrs Forrest through the back door, and was in the house a few minutes.

When he came out he had a stone gallon bottle, which he took to the men. All drank from one glass, which was repeatedly replenished from the bottle. The men went on to a piece of waste ground opposite the “Dog and Gun” to drink the beer. When they had finished it, Mary Ann Foy took the bottle into the house, had it re-filled, and brought it back to the men who continued drinking and making a disturbance until late. When he went to bed at ten minutes to two they were still making a row.

By Mr Slack: The row had not commenced when he came home at ten minutes past twelve. There was a congregation of young men drinking nearly every Saturday night.
– Mr Slack: Are you the gentleman that has been convicted here so often? – Witness: No; I have never been convicted here in my life.
– Mr Middleton: You ought not to ask such questions. – Jane Pearce gave evidence as to the men being there, and said that she saw from her house, through the window, a woman coming from the direction of the men. She had a bottle under her apron.

– Wm Crane said that he saw the men there. One of them, he didn’t know which gave him a drink from a bottle.
– Mr Slack for the defence, said that there must be something at the bottom of the case. He admitted that the disturbance which took place nearly every Saturday night was an unmitigated nuisance and his client was as anxious to have it stopped as were the police. He would call his witnesses and his client would swear that on the night named both she and Mary Ann Foy were in bed before 12 o’clock at night.
– Ann Forrest said that she had lived at the “Dog and Gun” between 14 and 15 years, but had never had any complaints about her house.

About five minutes to 11 on the date named Buck came into the bar and asked for a gallon of beer. He had a pint to drink while the gallon was filled for him. Witness locked the bar up about ten minutes past 11 and went to bed about 11:45 leaving Mrs Foy and Smith, the barman. Witness heard Mrs Foy come to bed shortly after she went
– before 12 o’clock – and also heard Smith locking up.

She first heard she had been guilty of supplying beer during prohibited hours on Tuesday, when the summons was served by Sergeant Evans.

– By Mr Middleton: She was not standing at her back door after closing time. – William Buck said he went into the “Dog and Gun” just before 11 o’clock. He bought a gallon of beer in a stone bottle and had a pint to drink. When he got it he put it on the waste ground behind a car, and went round the town, afterwards coming back with some mates to drink it. It was untrue that he went into the house for beer after closing time.

– By Mr Middleton: Witness was a nephew of Mrs Forrest’s. The evidence Bargh had given was entirely untrue. The only reason that he could give for Bargh giving evidence against them was because there was a lot of ill-feeling between them all and him. He had asked for the glass when he bought the beer. He intended to take the beer home and not drink it in the garden. He had plenty of glasses at home, but he did not know why he should borrow one then.
– James Smith, barman at the “Dog and Gun” gave evidence as to Buck buying the beer.
– Mary Ann Foy also gave evidence, and denied fetching beer. She denied hearing any disturbance whatever down the yard.

– The Bench considered the charge proved and fined defendant £ 5 and costs.


14 – Wards Yard

Map: C2

This photograph was taken after the old police station was built effectively cutting Wards Yard in two. In the centre is the police station yard and top right are three houses from the original yard that are still standing today.

Behind the houses one can see Tontine Road and the long window of Greaves the chemists. Also the roof of what is now McDonald’s.



Above is the surviving entrance to Wards Yard.



Bottom of Wards Yard in the 1950s showing the Workhouse Masters House and a glimpse of the Municipal Hall in the centre.


10 – Silk Mill

Silk Mill/Harrisons
Map: D4

The former Chesterfield Silk Mill, erected about 1760 on the River Hipper, was leased to John Harrison and sons, boot and shoe manufacturers, in 1910. It also shows as being Beetwell Works on a 1914 OS map.

The photograph was taken between 1910 and 1915, when the river was diverted away from the mill and the Silk Mill house adjoining was demolished.

The old House of Correction, or prison, can just be seen to the left of the Silk Mill entrance.


harrisons shoe factors ex silk mill

The Silk Mill/Harrisons as seen from Markham Road.

silk mill chesterfield

silk mill/harrisons ChesterfieldThe Silk Mill/Harrisons, seen from Hipper Street South.

silk-millFinal days of the Silk Mill in the 1960s.

11 – Slipper Baths

Slipper Baths
Map: C3



The Slipper Baths looking up South Place. At the top of the road is the Yeoman’s building and to the right of that are four houses with prominent gables – these houses crop up (and help to identify positions) on other photos.

They were built on the Eastern boundary of the Dog Kennels to help alleviate the hygiene problems and unhealthy lives of people living there.

The Slipper baths were built in 1904 and demolished in 2004.

The low wall (centre) is the eastern boundary of the Bowling Green.


21 – Hopkinson’s Yard

Hopkinsons Yard

A superb photo of Hopkinson’s Yard that accurately shows the state to which these buildings were reduced by the end of the nineteenth century.



Please note:

There was another Hopkinsons Yard situated off our map down towards the southern end of Lordsmill Street away from the Dog Kennels area. The photo below is listed on Picture the Past as being in the Dog Kennels, but is almost certainly the Lordsmill Street yard, now demolished.
This courtesy of Jane Kirk.