16-20 Abingdon Street, Blackpool c1862 – to date 2024
Police Station, Joiners Workshop, Motor Garage, Market and Food Hall.
From its first use as a police station, the sequence of occupation of the Abingdon Street premises, which is now a Food Hall, after generations being remembered as the Abingdon Street Market, is previously recorded, but this account provides a little more of the detail.
By 1853, and before the Abingdon Street site was considered, the need for a police station at Blackpool was apparent to the Lancashire County authority, and it was ordered that land should be purchased and a building erected, which would contain a strong room and a place for the temporary confinement of prisoners. The cost of this would be upon the rates and permission was given for £560 (£59,771.49) to be borrowed at £22 (£2,348.17) per annum interest, and the rent paid by the police rates would be £23 (£2,454.90) per annum so, all in all, it was a good deal for the town.
But as well as some sense of permanence of a police presence in the form a building, the developing town also needed, not just a single policeman who was at the time allocated to the small, though increasingly populous area that was the watering place of Blackpool, but also a local magistrate and there was a certain amount of lawlessness that could be enjoyed without reproach.
This first police station appears to be that on Bonny Street, and it is perhaps by design or coincidence that the law courts were constructed there in the 1970’s. There is no reference to the actual construction of this first police station and its existence is confirmed here in hindsight in newspaper articles concerning its sale. There is also little information seen regarding the existence of this first building, but there is reference to a police station, and the conducting of the Blackpool petty sessions, in several reported incidents, the first of these seen being in 1854, a date when the station is reported as having been built.
The first report seen of the first police station in function for Blackpool:-
From then on the beggars, pickpockets, thieves, speeding drivers in the narrow streets, drunken abuse of the police, gamblers, violent husbands and breaches of the bye laws by landlords or traders, inquests on drownings and deaths through misadventure, make their way to the police station and into the news or gossip of the newspapers. As Blackpool moved towards controlling more of its own affairs away from the supervision of the Lancashire County, plans were at first passed in June of 1861 for a police station on Abingdon Street, suitable for purpose, and construction was completed it would seem, within a couple of years.
And so, with the advent of a new building, the original police station was put up for sale, though there is no evidence seen for this written account, that it was actually sold…..
The next report seen is in the Preston Herald of March 28, 1891 when it states that on March 17th there had been an offer accepted for £1,500 (£160,102.19) to sell the Police station at South Shore which resulted in controversy in the Council chamber as to the economic validity of removing the Abingdon Street police station to a different site. While the Abingdon Street police station was of a sound and modern construction, the Council owned land in south shore where, if a new police station was needed, it could be built at a more economical price than the sale of the Abingdon street site for which an offer of £4,300 (£458,959.62) had been received. The motion to sell the South Shore police station was carried but the current offer for the Abingdon Street site was rejected at the same time. The reference to the sale of the South Shore police station presupposes that the Committee would go ahead and rebuild a police station in Blackpool elsewhere and continue with the sale of the current site on Abingdon Street if a reasonable offer could be accepted. So it seems, without evidence of a sale of the South shore premises to date, that perhaps it continued to function while a new one was built in a more central position in the town. By 1861 tenders were put out for contactors for this new police station on Abingdon Street.
While plans had been passed, it was now a matter of securing the finance at a time when police stations were being provided for many of the towns within the County. So at the annual general session of the County held at the Preston Court House, in 1861 ‘it was ordered that the court approve of a mortgage for £1,700, (£169,989.21) advanced out of the County Constabulary Superannuation Fund, upon the security of the police rates of the division of Kirkham, for the purpose of purchasing a site at Blackpool, and erecting thereon a police station.’ (Preston Herald 14th September 1861.)
It would contain a courtroom above and cells, with also a mortuary beneath, a function which became untenable as time went on as the strong and unpleasant stench of decaying bodies arose up into the courtroom above, requiring the mortuary to be removed from the premises to a site by Layton cemetery, the town’s first municipal graveyard. By 1863 it seems that a further amount of £200 (£21,109.77) was granted out of the police rates of the Kirkham Division for the completion of the police station at Blackpool. It seems that the original amount had to be topped up in order to get the building in Abingdon Street finished and had been perhaps a little over budget.
As the functioning of the police station got into its stride, the first significant, celebrated, or rather notorious, case seen recorded at the police station in Blackpool is that of the somewhat controversial death of Lawrence Leach, a surname shared in ancestral line by at least one eminent Blackpool personage. The story has been well written before but for the purposes of this account, has been taken from the newspapers of the time. It was on the 2nd December of 1864 when, in the mysterious and confused circumstances of his death it was, and will inevitably always be, ‘did he fall or was he pushed?’ It commanded the interest and captured the imagination of the town in real time as much as a high profile TV programme or movie might do so today from the comfort of the home or the movie theatre. It meant that for the three inquests, the court house was packed and there were queues outside the police station and in the courtyard at the back off what would eventually be adopted appropriately as Police Court and Police Street. On the first day, these queues had begun to form hours before in the pouring rain of a cold, December morning. Ultimately the case was not satisfactorily completed in the minds of many and, of course, conspiracy theories would have abounded in drinking houses, by home fires and on street corners much as they do on social media today with everybody claiming their version of a single aspect of the truth to be nothing but the truth, in all its different appearances.
The coroner was Mr Myers who was involved in the County Court in Preston, as were the two representatives of prosecution and defence and on the first day of the lengthy inquest, Mr Myers had to adjourn the proceedings in order to catch the last train back to Preston. The eminent doctor who conducted the autopsy and gave evidence was Dr Cocker, and a gentleman of the jury was William Thornber, himself behind his cleric’s image, not averse to a bit of melodrama and fisticuffs. Edward Boswell, aka Gypsy Ned, involved in the circumstances surrounding Lawrence’s death was a stern character, an overlord in his district in South Shore and who it was perhaps best to be friends with rather to cross or to invite distrust. He had been called in as minder by the chief witness, Mrs Blundell when an evening’s friendly chat with Lawrence Leach at her farmhouse home had turned ugly over a sum of money, which was to ultimately to disappear, and which Lawrence Leach had handed over to her for safe keeping, so all was set for a dramatic event at the courthouse.
It was the evening of December 2nd and it concerned a somewhat distracted and highly tuned and later inebriated 40 year old Lawrence Leach who, according to his wife had been on a drinking spree for a couple of weeks. On the evidence of his wife, Eleanor, he had left the house with £20 (£2,134.70) at 5.30 that evening. He was a master bricklayer and could have been, in an ironic sense, and to indulge in a bit of circumstantial speculation, involved in the building of the district’s first police station in Bonny Street a few years earlier. About 6.30, he arrived at the home of Mrs Blundell, the chief witness in the affair, at her Layton Hawes farm. Mrs Blundell and sons and Lawrence had had tea together brought into the room by the maid, Jane Webster, and who also brought in the ale when asked for, and who would also be called as a witness. Lawrence was there for about an hour before leaving during a breakdown in relationship. On Mrs Blundell’s evidence he had given the money to her for safe keeping, though this seems to be at her request because, maybe considering his somewhat distracted state of mind, she didn’t want him to lose it later in the pub. At first everything went smoothly but then after Mrs Blundell’s housemaid Jane Webster had brought in some quarts of ale, and George Bundell one of her sons some more, it was the signal for the situation to begin to deteriorate. From here, it seems that all the confusion concerned the money he had had in his possession in the form of 20 gold sovereigns and, if it wasn’t for the ultimate tragedy, the resulting scenario according to the sometimes carefully confused depositions of witnesses, it could be considered a theatrical farce as players in the affair ran in and out of the front door and in and out of the back, chasing or running away the one from the other.
In his evidently anxious state no doubt increased due to his alcoholic intake, Lawrence had forgotten what he had done with the money. Whether Mrs Blundell had judiciously kept it away from him at the time for his own good or whether it proved an element of criminality in the proceedings is not proven. Lawrence, according to the family witnesses present, was showing signs of frustrated anxiety and had hit Mrs Blundell several times and sworn at her, though it is only her evidence with the corroboration of her sons. During the inquiry, Mrs Blundell always claimed she had given the money back to Lawrence but there was no money found on him when eventually taken by the police to Abingdon Street. It was now that she had sent one of her sons to get Gypsy Ned, trusting perhaps that the threat of a summary kind of justice might resolve the situation and Ned would eventually arrive with one of his ‘boys’.
Then there is a series of conflicting evidences and confusing events which Mrs Blundell can’t quite recall entirely in sequence or fact. Lawrence it seems was not in the house on the arrival of Gypsy Ned, but had returned soon after when Ned went outside, and a fearful Mrs Blundell, with the convenience of the resolution of a Greek tragedy, seems to have lost consciousness for a few moments since she couldn’t remember what happened only that when she went to the door she saw the two men together though she couldn’t recall whether Lawrence was standing or lying on the floor. She had however, seen Ned push Lawrence in retaliation for an attempted punch thrown at him. He hadn’t fallen over at that time but had fallen over several times previously.
Lawrence, it seems, during this confusion of events which assisted in the non-conviction of any wrong doer in the end, left the house and made his way to John Pearson’s coffee shop on Lytham Road and had more to drink there, taking the opportunity to demonstrate some physical prowess, and which the intake of any amount of alcohol could not reduce, by rising from the ground from a cross legged position a couple of times and left, only to return a short time after, claiming he couldn’t find his way in the dark. After another drink, Richard Pearson, son of the proprietor accompanied him back to Mrs Blundell’s with Lawrence explaining that she was his banker and had £20 of his. Arriving at the farm in the pitch black with only the light of a lantern to guide them, there was no reply to a knock at the door so Lawrence Leach picked up a stone and broke the lower window. Richard had then judiciously left to return home. It was about 9.30 by now and the household had been woken up and Mrs Blundell was in her night dress and night cap.
It was at that time that she sent her other son, George, for the police and 45 minutes later Constables Smith and Gettes and Thomas Morrison, son of Sergeant Morrison of the police station, arrived in a carriage, to find the body of Lawrence prostrate on the floor and bleeding from the face. The front door was locked but, on request, was opened by Mrs Blundell and Ned. They claimed in their evidence that they had not been outside since Lawrence had returned which might conflict with former evidence.
When Lawrence was lifted up off the ground, still very much alive, to be placed in the police vehicle, he objected to being manhandled by the policemen who equally later denied any use of considerable force in the course of their duties. On the way back in the carriage ‘Leach’, it is claimed, swearing at the policemen, threatened to shoot PC Geddes when he next saw him, and became violent and so PC Geddes retaliated with a stick to get him back down on the seat on the two and three quarter miles back to the police station. There were two, warning blows, rather than violent blows, with the stick and the second one accidently hit Constable Smith on the hand bruising his thumb severely.
Lawrence was at first taken to Kirkham by train in the company of his wife Eleanor and a police officer, but then was returned to Blackpool probably because he was in a poor state of mind and body and complaining of his bowels and that the case of a broken window was insufficient reason to keep him there. Mrs Blundell had also travelled to Kirkham to suggest she would pay the costs that might be awarded against him. On the way back on the train, Lawrence was violently sick, ejecting some vile, dark fluid and it would seem that the serious trauma hat he had received somehow, somewhere, perhaps by someone during the evening, was making itself known. Once back in the police station at Abingdon Street he continued to complain of a pain in the bowels. In his somewhat distracted state perhaps, no-one was able believe him but on the following morning, the Saturday, when any added effects of alcohol had receded, but still in extreme discomfort, his wife Eleanor who had gone to visit him to bring him his breakfast, he repeated his claims and that he had been hit two a three times by a ‘tall’ policeman. Apart from lifting him off the ground, and the warning blow of hitting him with the stick, and gently ‘bobbing’ him, perhaps a euphemism for a vigorous kick, with the toe of his boot while he was on the ground as one witness revealed, but possibly to see if he was alive, there was no proof of any extreme violence committed by the policemen. Lawrence never recovered from his injuries and since there were no charges against him, he returned to his home on Warbrick Street where he died later that evening.
Dr Cocker’s post mortem revealed at the inquest that there were injuries to the deceased’s head including two black eyes. His abdomen was bruised and swollen on both sides and the scrotum highly inflamed and black. Internally there was a rupture in the ileum (written ilium in the newspaper report) from which the contents of the bowel would seep out into the peritoneal cavity which was highly inflamed. Death, he determined was through this rupture of the bowel. And this could have been caused by a blow or by a fall, so nothing was determined to suggest foul play by one or several persons. During the evidence given at the inquest it was learnt that there was a mug placed at the back door in order to catch rainwater, in the times when water came from wells or ponds, and each of which could become contaminated, rendering the drinking of beer, usually small beer, in a practical sense, a more healthy option. This mug, which would have been an earthenware pot of some size and, in its evolution as a word, would rather refer to that larger earthenware bowl than a contemporary coffee or tea mug, had fallen over and broken and in the confusion of the evening and, with the comings and goings of several hurried persons, it could quite possibly have been a fall over this that had caused the injury and which would not have proved fatal immediately in Doctor Cocker’s evidence. Everyone, apart from Gypsy Ned who remained a suspicious character, perhaps quite conveniently it may appear to some, was eventually cleared of any wrongdoing despite being brought before the courts accused of manslaughter. Lawrence’s treatment in the hands of the police at Layton Hawes and at the police station was also considered reasonable and without blame. There is no conclusion as to what happened to the money. Witnesses claimed that Lawrence had admitted that Mrs Blundell had given it back to him but none was found upon his person so there will always be a question mark or two on the reliability of the evidence given.
In the first instance, the jury at the end of the inquest, after a ten minute recess, returned a unanimous verdict of guilty of manslaughter against Gypsy Ned and he was committed to trial at the next Lancaster Assizes. He had the opportunity and the motive and there were those in more established occupations who subscribed to the established law of the land who perhaps resented those people who lived in tents on the sands of the south shore and, referred to as gypsies had their own customs, even language and who had lived as a sub-community within the established community exercising their own laws in which Gypsy Ned, Edward Boswell, was the chief enforcer. The chief prosecutor, Mr Watson, acting for Mrs Leach and family had pushed the case for the verdict of manslaughter against Ned while in the defence of Mrs Blundell, Mr Edelston spoke strongly against the verdict of manslaughter as there was not enough evidence. The gypsies had their own ways of expression and the fact that before witnesses at the Royal Oak Hotel the accused had admitted to ‘seeing to the bugger’ that was Lawrence Leach, it could equally be construed that what Ned had said was a matter of interpretation of language and not an admission of guilt. As Mrs Blundell had travelled to Kirkham while Lawrence was there to volunteer to pay his costs for the case, was this generosity and compassion and, while she was not a poor woman, an extra £20 would have its uses even if generously and without obligation to pay for the services of a local enforcer. But it didn’t matter to the gentlemen of the jury who may have been wise to other factors involved since the money was never located and no–one admitted possession of it. And so the case is still prone to speculation and theory. As it turned out, it was considered by the more remote upholders of the law in Lancaster, less subject to nagging, local prejudices, that there was not enough evidence to convict Ned of manslaughter and so he remained a free man.
So Lawrence Leach had died on the 3rd December 1864 and was buried at St John’s churchyard on the following Thursday the 8th. He had been a member of the Oddfellows for several years so had some accepted status amongst his fellow townspeople, and his funeral and burial were attended by his family and several members of the Society.
From this date, away from the dramatic event of the case, police duties returned to everyday events. Some cases from Fleetwood were also dealt with at the court. Earlier that year a Frederick Burns was charged with breaking the windows of the police station, because he had been thrown out of his accommodation and wanted somewhere to sleep and he thought he might find it at the police station. Not being allowed in he threw a stone, a material he was quite familiar with since he was a stone mason, at the windows and broke some.
In the June of 1867 Winifred Corrigan was initially suspected of child murder. A housemaid, she arrived at lodgings in Blackpool with her employers, Mr and Mrs George from Manchester. She gave birth to a child the following day and while the landlady, a Mrs Allen had suspicions from the moment of her arrival, it is difficult to believe that Winifred’s employers were unaware. It was the landlady, pursuing her suspicions, who found evidence in the room of the housemaid and when confronted she admitted the birth. The child was dead and wrapped in cloth in her travel box. She was at first suspected of the murder of her new born and Dr Cocker, on examination, determined that the child was born alive but could have suffered trauma as a result of the birth which is quite understandable as no doubt a frightened young woman subject to severe pain had to secretly give birth on her own with no help available, either sympathetic of professional, at the time nor in the future. On the doctor’s evidence at the inquest at the police station, Winifred was acquitted of murder and the death of her child was considered to be due to a fall immediately after the birth.
And in April of 1869 chimney sweep Alfred Roberts, a character well known to the authorities was fined 20s (£1: £99.99), or a month’s imprisonment for being drunk and disorderly in West Street and his wife, Elisabeth was sentenced to 21 days in the House of Correction. Since Alfred had chosen prison as the option, they both then had found accommodation, albeit apart, for a short period of time. At the same Blackpool petty sessions at the police station, James Caton was given a month’s prison sentence for assaulting his wife Betty. And in October of the same year, John Cragg of the Sailor’s Home in Chapel Street was fined 10s (50p: £49.99) or fourteen days for allowing drinking on his premises within prohibited hours. John’s defence was that his wife had thrown him out and that he wasn’t responsible for the running of the establishment any more. Thomas Garvan was also fined 5s (25p: £24.99) or seven days for aiding and abetting the offence.
Three men, Thomas Barnes, Thomas Snape and Richard Dagar were each fined 2s 6d (12½p; £12.50) independently for riding without reins. It seems a common offence akin to the modern offence of driving while using a mobile phone as not being in control. David Harrison was fined 20s (£99.99) and costs or a month in prison for shooting game on private land, and caught by the gamekeeper with the added offence of being without a licence.
Mary Ann Thorn and Catherine Godfrey, from Fleetwood and dealt with during the petty sessions at Blackpool, were each obliged to pay costs only, and divided equally between the two, for an argument which consisted of swearing and spitting and some violence which had broken out between them.
W Garlick of the Gypsy’s Tent beerhouse at Layton Heys (Hawes) was fined 5s (£24.99) and costs for using ‘unjust’ measures, in the form of drinking glasses below the standard measurements.
James Bryning was summoned for keeping an unregistered lodging house, or more specifically described as a doss house as when investigated, there was a man sleeping in a chair, a man and a woman on the floor, a couple in bed upstairs and the proprietor, James Bryning sleeping in the front room of the house. The women were known prostitutes, in the terms of the day, and one of the men, a discharged soldier, was a convicted thief and the house had proved a nuisance to the neighbourhood.
Then in another case, James Eastham was summoned by letting agent Henry Whiteside for taking away goods from a house at Revoe Meadows which was let to him by the owners Sarah and Thomas Sanderson. The house had been let for £7.16s (£789.95) for the year and James Eastham was seen taking things away from the house which belonged to the Sandersons. It was not unusual for tenants to run away with goods and not pay rent and some rent was due at the time but with nothing more substantial than a promise of payment, so it was perhaps right to pursue suspicions.
Elisabeth Jenkinson of Poulton was fined for being drunk and also guilty of ‘riotous behaviour’ on Talbot Road. She had already been in the House of Correction for seven days and, as a consequence was given another seven days.
Cab drivers James Hall and James Westhead were fined 5s (£24.99) and costs for being drunk and charge of their cabs. James Hall was so drunk he couldn’t climb into his cab. Stephen Curwen, James M’Kan, John Curwen, Robert Sanderson, Richard Cowell, John Hesketh were all fined for being drunk and sometimes violent in Fleetwood each given fines or short term prison sentences.
John Wood, of Ribby on Wrea, was convicted of stealing potatoes form a lockup belonging to Mr Hull in the area and given a one month custodial sentence with hard labour in the House of Correction.
So as the town grew and achieved its incorporation by 1876, this police station itself proved inadequate in size and even by 1873 it was evident that a larger building was needed. By 1889 the ‘complaints of many public officers’ who had to conduct their business at the courthouse on the premises were being voiced. The accommodation was highly inadequate and when the room was full, as it was in important cases, the ‘atmosphere became intolerable’ and it was expected that the relevant authority would take note. Note was taken, and the building did function as a police station and a courthouse until 1893 when the new premises was completed on Lower King Street.
The next occupant was joiner and builder, Thomas Houldsworth Smith, who would amalgamate his expanding business from his two sites at Cedar and Temple Streets to a single address. Also an undertaker, he would perhaps have regarded the premises, with the facility of an albeit defunct mortuary on site, ideal for that part of his business.
But he didn’t move in immediately as the new police station on Lower King Street, though near completion, was behind schedule and the Abingdon Street site could not be vacated immediately. At his discretion, however, Thomas H Smith, Council member, Alderman, JP and Chairman of the Sanitary Committee (for which he received praise in 1902) and Mayor of Blackpool for 1900 to 1901, allowed an extension to the tenancy of the Abingdon Street police station to May 31st of 1893 and the Council naturally expressed its gratitude to one of its own members. He had purchased the premises and was to convert the building into a large scale joiner’s shop but, meanwhile, was kept busy as the contractor for other new premises, a double fronted shop on Birley Street, at a time when many residential houses on the street were being converted into shops. The premises were those of Messrs Walmsley and Sons, a homeware shop, selling chandeliers, gas stoves and sanitary utensils, wall papers and decorations etc. The shop, of generous ground area, would run through to Back Church Street. The architect for this project was influential fellow Councillor, Robert Butcher Mather, also a future Mayor of the town.
Thomas Houldsworth Smith conducted his business from the premises while continuing with his municipal duties. Having been elected Mayor of the town from 1900 through 1901, in September of that year he was invited for a second term of Mayor due to the, ‘zeal, urbanity and assiduity which he has attached to his duties.’ He had delayed his decision at the time until he had recovered from his accident and his daughter, Lily, was also still quite poorly, though neither he nor Lily were involved in the accident itself.
It was an extremely alarming accident that had taken place 24th April 1901, killing his coachman and appeared to have affected Thomas quite deeply and personally. The coachman 22 year old Walter Wilding had picked up Thomas Smith, whom he had only been with for about six weeks, at his employer’s home at Houldsworth Lodge on Whitegate Drive. Walter conveniently lived round the corner with his wife Ada and one year old son, William, in Roberts Street off Woodland Grove and which was opposite the Whitegate Trotting Track and cricket ground. He was experienced with horses and had been around them all is short life, and the horse was considered well enough suitable for the job of pulling the cart, described as a dog cart (generally a light carriage with a single axle), and standing patiently in waiting when needed. Its only drawback was that it was a bit slow, a fact pointed out to Walter by Thomas as they made their way to the workshop on Abingdon Street where Thomas would resume his day’s work at his office there. There was nothing to alarm either driver or occupant and the dog cart left Abingdon Street and proceeded down Birley Street and once on Market Street, Walter stopped off to buy bread and the horse was content to wait as witnesses attested. Perhaps it was a bit too laid back as it set off at a walk requiring Walter to ‘touch’ it with the whip and, as they were in Lytham street, the horse began to trot and then by West Street, turned into a gallop. It was here that witnesses saw Walter struggling to control the horse which didn’t stop at the promenade, of narrow dimensions before the widening in a few years’ time, and in fright or panic burst through the railings and over on to the hulking. When it had been evident that the horse would not stop at the railings, Walter was heard to cry out as he was resigned to crash and once through the fencing he was thrown out of the cart and landed several feet away from the horse and broken cart which were at the bottom of the steps down to the beach 56 feet away as the hulking sloped. A crowd gathered and those on the spot first tried to help, including PC Anderson who was on duty in Market Street and had seen the cart dash over the promenade. The horse ambulance used by the police was phoned for but there was a delay due to the horse being down south shore. Thomas Houldsworth heard of the incident and arrived at the spot as soon as possible and stayed with Walter until the ambulance took him to Victoria Hospital just down the road from Houlsdworth Lodge, and not far from Walter’s own home, on Whitegate Drive. The horse was recovered and was able to walk back to its stable. Walter was unconscious, when he reached the hospital in the care of nurse, Charlotte Woomley, and diagnosed with severe concussion and an open wound at the back of his head. He regained consciousness slightly but was unable to converse and, deteriorating, died the following day, his mother at his bedside.
Due to the severity and enormity of the accident, it would seem Thomas Smith did not take up the option of running for a second year as Mayor and in 1903 he moved premises to Raikes Road making room for the following occupant at Abingdon Street.
By 1904 he had sold, or perhaps leased, the premises on Abingdon Street to the ambitious Richard Riley, who had found his previous garage premises at Rigby road, where he had been for only a year, too remote from the town centre and had put this ‘commodious building’ on Rigby road up for sale which would prove suitable for ‘laundry, bottling stores, builders workshop, warehouse etc.’ The premises on Abingdon Street, though modified to suit a joiner’s workshop by TH Smith were found, in such a central situation, to be entirely suitable for purpose, and he conducted business as the Central Motor Garage which provided sales, self or chauffeur hire, a waggonette or char-a-banc for group excursions, recovery and repairs and where the electric car can be plugged in and recharged at an electric charging station. So, futuristic as it may sound to today’s ears, it offered a comprehensive service. There was a small cottage on site which was occupied by the garage foreman and he could thus receive vehicles at any time, day or night. Because of the storage of petrol, it was a requirement for the building to be fire-proof and this was achieved by asbestos sheeting, a material which has been confined to history by today’s listening ear, as a means of fire-proofing.
When motoring was a new concept, and only a few of the richer folk of society owned and used a car, and when journeys in a car were not as comfortable as today and breakdowns could popularly be described as nightmares with no immediate help available, the Blackpool Times of 30th March 1904 found it, ‘advisable to explain’ to ‘untechnical’ readers, ‘what is a Motor Garage,’ and while doing so, praises Riley’s motor garage on Abingdon Street as being the most efficient in the provinces. ‘Mr Riley’s Motor Garage, at any rate, is a place where there is storage for a hundred motor cars … where any make of motor car or bicycle can be purchased; where the happy customer is taught to drive without imperilling the safety of the King’s subjects, and has the option of storing for free for six months; where cars may be hired with expert chauffeurs, by the day or the month; where accumulators and electric cars may be carefully charged at an electric charging station; and where repairs to any make of car be carried out expeditiously by skilled motor mechanics.’
‘The main entrance from the front street leads straight into the garage and the workshop beyond. This was formerly an open yard, but has been covered in with a corrugated iron and glass roof, transforming it into a spacious, well-lighted store house and workshop about 600 square yards (501.676416 sq. m) in dimensions. Sliding doors and wire netting separate the garage from the workshop. The woodwork in the ceiling of the latter is in process of being covered with asbestos sheeting to prevent any risk of fire. The floor is of brick grouted with cement. An open yard at the side is used for the washing of the motor-cars as they come in plastered with the produce of bad roads, and it is so arranged that four cars can be washed at the same time. Provision is also made for cleansing them inside. In the yard, separate from the rest of the building, is the petrol store. It looks like the strong room of a great banking firm, so thorough has been the endeavour of Mr Riley to fulfil the requirements of the authorities to make it a fireproof building.’
‘Not a particle of wood is used in its construction, both roof and floor being of concrete. Mr Riley is asking permission of the Watch Committee to store 500 gallons of petrol – which, by the way, is not an explosive, save in an exact chemical compound. In the garage stands the emergency car, bearing tools and spare parts of motor machinery, which is ever ready to respond to a message from any motorist whose car has broken down.’ The message would be by telegram for which a stranded motorist would have to seek out the nearest post office, which could be miles away. No doubt there would likely be a wheelwright or a farrier more to hand in the rural areas for the horse driven vehicle but for the innovative motor vehicle they would be very few and very far between. ‘A very handy contrivance is the inspection pit, over which the travelling motorist’s car can be run, enabling the chauffeur, by the aid of electric lights, to inspect the lower part of the car without difficulty. Motorists on long journeys generally bring a lot of spare parts, tyres, and rugs with them, and for storage of these, with marked forethought, special lockers are provided, fitted with separate keys. There were some very attractive cars in the garage that we were informed were for hiring purposes, so that practically everyone can be a motorist now and then, and comfortably cover his 115 miles a day.’ (‘his’ assuming all drivers to be male, most perhaps but not all.)
‘The workshop is fitted with all necessary tools for the repair of motors, and the skilled staff can undertake any class of repair that is likely to be required – though we have heard of no provision for the repair of motorists themselves. The workshop, like the rest of the place is lighted by electricity generated by plant on the premises, the fittings having been put in by Messrs Fielding and Co., electricians, Blackpool. The power is derived from an eight-horse Crossley’s gas engine, which drives a dynamo for the purpose of lighting, charging accumulators for ignition purposes, and accumulators for lighting purposes. This dynamo can charge anything from a two-cell and four-cell accumulator to accumulators for electrical carriages. The main purpose is for the charging of electric machines and a system of “cut-outs” has been adopted to avoid the possibility of overcharging a cell in which the greater danger of this work lies. A room is provided for a lighting accumulator, which will store sufficient capacity to light seventy lamps for six hours without running the engine. This accumulator will always be kept charged as a resource in case of a breakdown. The greater portion of the premises is heated with hot water piped, and as the “exhaust” from the engine is also carried through the workshop a further amount of heat is gained from that expedient.’
‘An ingenious contrivance in the workshop is the construction of trestles on which the motor-car is raised by means of a pulley to enable the mechanics to work at the bottom of the machine. Upstairs is a room for the performance of light repairs, such as the repair to tyres, and painting etc.’
‘The front part of the building comprises of a shop which will be used for show purposes and after Easter will undergo considerable structural alterations to enable motor-cars to be taken through into the showroom. A comfortable office for clerical work is also situated at the entrance’.
‘Mr Riley has now got his premises into active working order, and is quite prepared to undertake any class of work in connection with motors that may be desired. Hitherto great difficulty has been experienced by motorists in Blackpool owing to the inability to obtain proper supply of motor necessaries or to find suitable storage. But that is all ended now. Mr Riley’s regime has begun, and Blackpool will soon be known as the Mecca of motorists.’
The presence of the garage in the town was a natural source of supervision for the motor trials on the promenade in the following years, and one of the first things it was to do, in October of 1904 when Richard Riley used the Drill Hall on Yorkshire Street for the stabling of 250 motor cars. A charge for this stabling per day or night would be 1s (5p; £5.11) for motor cars and sixpence (2½p; £2.55) for motor cycles. In the transition period between the horse and the motor car, the cars were stabled until the word garaging naturally replaced it. In the following year, there were those in the Council who continued to promote the motoring event and also those in despair and who feared such events would destroy the new promenade which had only just been widened and at great expense. It was thus the subject of heated discussion in the Council Chambers as, on the one hand a stretch of carriageway between the central and Victoria piers would be an ideal course for a motoring event which would attract the paying customer, but on the other hand, allowing the racing to take place, the Council would find itself liable for any accident that might occur and insurance costs might be steep and the lovely new carriageway might get damaged. A view of the racing track (for cars and motorbikes) to rival those at Brighton, with its crowds waiting in anticipation, is provided below.
By late 1905 the Central Garage was run by the Jackson brothers and advertised as ‘formerly R Riley’. It is not known at present why Mr Richard Riley left a successful enterprise to others, but the Rileys, were an established firm of Blackpool house furnishers and drapers and occupied a double fronted shop next to the garage. Mrs Riley, wife of founder John Riley, had died in 1907 and provided a reason to put up the shop next door to the garage for sale in that year and to concentrate on the larger Lytham Street (now Corporation street) premises (Nos 5-9) though there is an A Riley on the premises in 1918 before the building was put up for sale once more as; ‘Riley and Sons have given up their Abingdon Street furniture shop and the ‘freehold land, shops, garage and premises is up for sale now occupied by A Riley, Jackson Bros (Blackpool) and Misses Gregg and Grass’. The Jackson Brothers are still advertising their garage business on Abingdon Street in October of 1918, having returned from the war, but the site was put up for sale in 1919.
It seems that the premises ceased to be home to a garage at this time and the shop next door vacated also. At first the premises were to be considered for an 1800 seat cinema theatre and café, developed by a private company. It is not known whether this ever materialised but it is reported that the building became home to the Abingdon Street Market with a café above, in 1925. In 1904 Howarth’s Fent market had opened in 35 Abingdon Street and was known as the Peoples Fent Market. First advertised as ‘near the Winter Gardens’ and then from 1909, ‘next to the new post office’ where at one time the Baptist Chapel had stood. In 1906 its address is given as 4 Abingdon Street (3, or sometimes 13 doors from Talbot Road). And in 1909 it is Nos 6 and 32 Abingdon Street. So there was nothing new to having a market in name on Abingdon Street. The Abingdon Street Market, in name by 1927, once established, (1925) remained in that capacity for nearly a hundred years until 2023 when a change of use dictated by changes of taste, social behaviour and shopping habits led to a renewed function as a food hall with drinks and entertainment on hand.
And at the rear of the building viewed from Cedar Square where there was once, in sequence, a police courtyard, a joiner’s workshop and a motor garage repair workshop and storage and then a busing market, to be seen, the revamped elevation of the former market advertises its new function as a community entertainment and food hall.
The lintel of the entrance door to the original building of 1863, still in situ, bears its first occupant’s name,
‘- Police – Station -‘.
Photo Barbara Reed 2024
Sources and acknowledgements
The bulk of the newspaper reports have come from Findmypast, https://www.findmypast.co.uk/search-newspapers with thanks to The British Newspaper Archive. Newspaper image © The British Library Board. All rights reserved. (www.britishnewspaperarchive.co.uk)
Inflation calculator;-
https://www.bankofengland.co.uk/monetary-policy/inflation/inflation-calculator
Area conversion:-
https://www.thecalculatorsite.com/conversions/area/square-yards-to-square-meters.php
Colin Reed
https://www.cmronline.co.uk/blackpool-in-the-1850s-kickstart-to-the-modern-town/
Nick Moore ….
https://www.visitlytham.info/wp-content/uploads/2019/02/History-of-Blackpool-Nick-Moore.pdf
Juliette Gregson
https://www.liveblackpool.info/about/town-centre/abingdon-street-market/
Martin O’Callaghan
https://blackpoolcrime.wordpress.com/2016/03/30/lawrence-leach-and-gypsy-ned-1865/
Gallons to litres conversion
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