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£1.5 0
REMEMBERING THE OLD SMITHFIELD AREA
Looking up North Street from Royal Avenue in April 1954. The Smithfield area is to the left
Looking down North Street from Peter's Hill in April 1954. The Smithfield area is behind the buildings to the right
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ost local historians agree that Smithfield was opened as a cattle market and abattoir between 1770 and 1780 and its name borrowed from the famous London meat market. There was also a popular explanation that it was originally "The Smith’s Field" where horses were shod and also bought and sold. Later on hides and wool were sold there as well as farm and garden produce of all kinds. The market at that time was open to the weather and spilled into the surrounding square and the adjoining streets, as indeed it still does to some extent especially in the direction of North Street where the crowing of a bantam cock in one of the many pet shops does not startle the passer- by as it might else where in the centre of the city. Although older hands will tell you that the market is not what it was like years ago it is still a marvellous place in which to be tempted to buy something you don’t really need, especially towards the end
of the week when shops and stalls are set up to attract the crowd. When busy with weekend shoppers one gets some idea of what it might have looked like in its heyday when, besides the colourful and lively commercial life, there was all sorts of entertainment's and side-shows with candy stalls and Punch and Judy shows for the children and on the fringe of the market a theatre. Of course times have changed and the market with them. Livestock is not sold in Smithfield and whilst a good deal of what is sold there now is new – modern furniture and carpets, musical instruments and records and tools for many trades – the great lure of the old place was in the shops and stalls selling second hand bric-a-brac, small pieces of furniture and jewellery as well as an unclassifiable variety of items from war souvenirs to Victorian chamber pots. It was there that the real excitement was in the
The old Smithfield after being destroyed by fire in 1974
anticipation of discovering a treasure that somebody else was just not clever enough to recognise. Unfortunately in 1974 firebombers struck and the old Smithfield Market was burned to the ground. Wooden huts then took its place and remained until being swallowed up in the present Castlecourt complex. A new Smithfield was built on the site of the old Ulster Bus Station on Winetavern Street and like the old one many of the shops are family concerns in business there for generations. One has only to see these traders in action to realise that there is very little they don’t know about sales psychology – they have it in their bones. Everything in the market has its price. It may not be on the tag nor the first asking price but what you pay for it eventually will be the result of skilful negotiation and not a little bluff on your part. They may drive a hard bargain but they have a tradition of integrity and fair-trading. For the people of Belfast Smithfield is a vital part of the city’s life and its something the tourists don’t by-pass either. It continues to attract people today for much the same reasons it did in the 1770’s the free and easy atmosphere of the place and the very personal quality of the business done there. So lets hope that Smithfield doesn’t have to disappear altogether in the cause of progress for if it does Belfast will lose a unique part of its business life and a great bunch of characters.
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OLD SMITHFIELD MARKET PART OF A SERIES OF ARTICLES BY TONY MERRICK PUBLISHED IN THE IRISH WEEKLY, 1979
On emerging from Berry Street into Smithfield, we find ourselves looking across a large open square, surrounded by houses of two and three stories, many of them white-washed. In the centre is a large wooden shed, used primarily for the sale of hides, wool, clothes and grain, and surrounding it a grass area for the use of cattle, bounded by a strong wooden railing which formed a sort of street between it and the houses, many of them taverns. At this time Smithfield had a weekly fair, held on Fridays, which was attended by cattle-dealers and farmers intent on the serious purchase of animals, as well as the rough and tumble of the town. For the rest of the week, it was a quiet enough place, being frequented by only a few idlers. Previous to about the year 1780, the entire ground enclosed by Hercules Lane. North Street, Millfield and Mill Street was made up of meadows, orchards and market gardens, these latter running from the back of Hercules Lane. With the growth of the town rendering the then existing cattle market in Shambles Street, later Corn Market, too small, an additional site between Hercules Lane and Millfield was set aside. The two-acre field, thus chosen, soon
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adopted the same name as its counterpart in London, famous since the twelfth century. Initially, "the market" as it has since been familiarly known, dealt in cattle, hides and grain, there being a weigh bridge situated here for the purpose. Farm implements and other produce soon followed, and by the time of our itinerary, stalls selling such items as clothes, household furniture, delph and an endless variety of articles, had been set up, making Smithfield the chief market in the town for miscellaneous goods. Smithfield on a Friday was a colourful place indeed, the different stalls displaying their wares rivalling the performing clowns in their garish spectacle. The military recruiting party, usually accompanied by fife and
drum and on occasion by a full band added to the general din and banter as auctioneer and cheap-jacks shouting their wares, competed to make themselves heard, so drowning out the ordinary hum of voices. Of amusement booths there were not a few and almost invariably a waxworks was set up in any house that happened to be derelict. In the first half of the last century, Smithfield had its annual Lamass Fair, the carnival lasted for a week, and such was the exuberance of the proceedings that the Friday markets seemed positively dreary affairs. People flocked from the whole town and the surrounding countryside, crowding out the lodging houses. All day and all night the taverns kept open
house as young and old alike crammed into them, whilst in "the market" a circus and innumerable side-shows held sway. The bawling of pedlars vied in sonority with the babble of the auctioneers and frenzied shouts of anxious buyers as horses, donkeys and cattle changed hands; ballad singers regaled their audiences to songs and legends of old, whilst the sound of the pipe and fiddle was constantly to be heard. Side by side with the merry clamour, drunken brawls and faction fights formed something of a necessary appendage to matters; and of course no fair would have been complete without the ubiquitous confidence trickster. During the course of the fair a spectacular stunt was staged, one such being Mr. Bradshaw of Milecross, crossing the square in a chariot with a smoking fire inside it, and drawn by two oxen. The climax always came on the last day with a free-for-all fight, such unruliness doubtless earning Smithfield the not altogether justified reputation as a rough quarter of the town. The open stalls remained until the erection, in the middle of the century, of a more permanent range of buildings which lasted until the disastrous fire of 1974, the remainder being roofed in by stages about one hundred years ago, forming the
Belfast Street Directory 1880
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familiar friendly market we all knew and of which a view has been used to illustrate this number. It was at about this time or shortly afterwards that the well known and established families of "the market" such as the Dawsons and Kavanaghs settled here. Many of the dealers, particularly those of books, delph and objects d’art were women. Their honesty and integrity being a byeword. The spirit of bartering and bargaining of the early days is, happily still very much in evidence and this more than anything else sets "the market" apart from the rest of the town. There are stories related of some, such as Hill Hamilton, who started business with a barrow and later amassed enormous fortunes for themselves. Down the years Smithfield has had its share of more colourful characters, and the hundreds of people who lived in the square and its offshoots, formed a distinctive and close knit community of their own customs and traditions. Kindly, sincere and generous of heart, they were every bit as fond of the arts and higher things of this life as they were of its materials, McCormick’s theatre nearby being particularly popular. Mrs. Davis’s handball court on the west side and Billy Pollard’s in Berry Street, just opposite Charlemont Row,
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Smithfield in the mid 1960’s
were institutions patronised extensively by the young bloods of both district and town at large, and many an animated and keenly contested match was staged on a summer evening. Organised cockfights and dogfights were earnestly followed in the locality, large sums of money frequently being at stake. The Bellman or town crier was a familiar colourful figure around the square in the olden times. There were a considerable number of industrial concerns around the square in those days, cotton manufacture and related branches of textile production being particularly well represented. Apart from McCracken’s Mill in Francis Street which we look at as we explore Millfield, Boomer and Watts had a factory here and a Mr. Smith ran a hosiery establishment. Many of the notices in the newspapers of this period, advertising land or property for sale around Mill Street and Smithfield, stress the suitability of building cotton mills thereon. Several tan yards flourished hereabouts, and Dobbins Brewery was located between Francis Street and West Street. The maze of surrounding streets, alleys and courts was just as colourful as the square and "the market." Berry Street named after a Mr. Berry, nephew of the Earl of Donegal was opened up as a
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1819
1854
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narrow street leading from Hercules Lane to Lush fields and waving green trees which in those distant times occupied the site of the old Smithfield. Known for a short time as Factory Row, the Seeders Meeting House was built at the corner with Chapel Lane. About halfway along Berry Street, New Row with its seventeen little houses inhabited by an industrious set of carpenters, whitesmiths and shoemakers cut through to Bells Lane or Row, itself now days approximately represented by Garfield Street. Not far away was Croarken’s Pad, a darksome little place called after a merchant in Hercules Street. Running parallel to New Row, the lime washed houses of Charlemont Row, keeping green the memory of the Earl of Charlemont, commander in chief of the Irish Volunteers in the 1780’s, was home for a very distinctive community of people. These were the "Phadyees", a Gaelic speaking colony of fishmongers and oyster sellers from Omeath, that was only dispersed with the building of the Post Office extension in 1909. Next came Millar’s Lane, also leading to Bell’s Row; between it and Smithfield, Forcade’s Entry formed a culde-sac nearly reaching up to Kennedy’s Row, a tiny alley way off the east side of the square.
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Passing Marquis Street and its House of Industry, we will stop for a moment at the corner of the square nearest Francis Street and look at the white-washed houses of Ferguson’s court, where present day King Street joins Smithfield. The little dwellings of this alcove with their outside stone chairs and washing hanging out to dry, were strongly reminiscent of the South of France. The place is a hive of multifarious activity as we leave it and passing along the thronging footways reach the corner and find West Street, a narrower thoroughfare than today. At No. 3 was situated the "Boot and Crown", a tavern not unimportant in the making of our history, and the Town Dispensary for a time operated from three houses here, having formerly been in Factory Row, diametrically opposite. Between Winetavern Street, formerly Pipe Lane owing to the clay pipe-makers who lived here, and Hudson’s Entry, was tiny tucked away from Smithfield Court where McMullan’s paint shop was. Pawnbrokers, many of whom set up shop in their houses around the square rather that in the stalls, abounded. Among the numerous taverns the best known, largely on account of its outstanding sign, was the "Robin Hood", located on the east side. It depicted a merry scene of
archers haunting deer on Lincoln Green and Little John inviting the cattle drovers of Smithfield to come in and partake of refreshment. At No. 29 on the far side Jane Davis ran the "Irish Arms" and No. 69 where Edward Gribbon kept the "Shamrock". Tailors, blacksmiths, cow keepers, skinners, cabinet-makers, nailer and a baker or two all carried on their different calling here; William Skeffington at No. 3, near the corner of Berry Street sold hams and bacon cheek by jowl with old clothes, and William Linn, domiciled at No. 58, was a wheelwright and a turner. We are told in a most interesting advertisement which appeared in the "Belfast Commercial Chronicle" in March 1805 that this same William Linn was offering for sale an almost new house on the south side of the square. On the west side near Francis Street, Dinsmore turned out his exquisite carving and close at hand, Russell the coffin maker was forever busy. The well known Dr. James Murray had his first apothecary’s practice at the corner of Smithfield and Winetavern Street before moving to High Street, where he invented his Milk of Magnesia. Plenty of labourers lived in the square and in the streets and alleyways round about, their weekly wage was at this
Map of Smithfield in 1819 showing Hudson’s Entry and Winetavern Street
time being somewhere in the order of seven shillings, whilst more skilled men such as bricklayers and carpenters could hope to earn sixteen shillings, a seventy hour week being usual.
On the north side of the square, between West Street and Winetavern Street, there existed for many years the Marshalsea or debtors prison, the inmates being sent here by the Seneschal’s Court presided over by Thomas Ludford Stewart. Its keeper, at this time, was one Arthur Boswell who lived in close
proximity at No. 75, Smithfield. Interestingly, some of the bars of this old prison could be seen incorporated in a house there until the closing years of the 1800’s. Immediately behind it was Belfast’s first Cotton Mill, run by Milford and Bailey, (on the site of today’s market). The towns house of industry, an institution founded and managed under the auspices of the Belfast Charitable Society in order to alleviate some of the unemployment rampant at the turn of the century, was located on the opposite side, at the corner with marquis Street,
till not long before called Ferguson’s Entry, after the grandfather of Sir Samuel Ferguson, the famous poet of the last century. Under the stewardship of Robert McCord who lived at No. 52 Mill Street, it not only provided work and training for those, who through no fault of their own had fallen on hard times, but was delegated powers by the Charitable Society to apprehend beggars. The Belfast savings bank was located in this building for the first thirteen years of its career, moving to King Street in 1829.
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THE NOTORIOUS HUDSON’S ENTRY
Royal Avenue at the turn of the last century showing the old Grand Central Hotel and GPO to the left
walk through the Castle Court complex you can not fail to notice the smiling faces, the clatter of tills and a general air of prosperity emanating from the area. However things were not always as rosy as they are today. Castle Court covers a 7 acre site which comprises the old Smithfield Market, the G.P.O. the Grand Central Hotel and several other well known Belfast establishments. Over one hundred years ago the vicinity was described by Rev W M O'Hanlon as the lowest place in the social scale, and as presenting, also in its physical aspects all that is most forlorn.' Abject poverty abounded then within the laby-rinth of courts and alleys. There were two markets in the neighbourhood, Torrens Market and Smithfield Market. The street which we now know as Royal Avenue was called Hercules Street and it had no fewer than 33 butchers resident in the street. Hercules
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Street was named after Hercules Langford of the Langford Lodge family. On the Castle Court side however the site was traversed by Berry Street, John's Court, McCoubry's Entry, Law's Court, Torrens Lane, Torrens Market and Fultons Entry. Berry Street should rightfully be known as Barry Street as it was after a certain Mr Barry who was trustee of the Donegall estates. Torrens Market was named after another agent of the Donegall family and it stood on the site of what was originally Williamson's tannery. Behind these tightly crammed tenements was Charlemont Street (later to house the G.P.O. depot.) It was a little street consisting of 30 houses with a population of 224 people, entirely Gaelic speakers. Behind this little street was Forcades Entry, Millar's Lane, Kennedy's Row, and the notorious Croarkin's Pad, while Bell's Lane preceded Garfield Street. The 1878
Improvement Act empowered the Belfast City Council to demolish the entire area an indication on how unsavoury the vicinity had become, even by Victorian standards. Smithfield Market was another well established market-place where all kinds of nondescript wares could be obtained. The Smithfield of old was described in 1852 as the rendezvous of a gang of youthful miscreants - candidates for the hulks and the gallows - who find a market there for their booty and the eye and hand of justice." It was at one time believed that the place attracted the very worst grade of Belfast's population, found heaped together, corrupting and being corrupted. Rev O'Hanlon described the place thus; `a sort of tumour, a morbid ganglion in the heart of our city; and by a well known law of disease, the vitiated humours of a system find their way to the diseased part - it draws to itself and assimilates even a portion of the wholesome succulence which would, otherwise, nourish and strengthen the body." The immediate area of Smithfield' was made up of a courtyard with a large shed in its centre and was the scene of regular fairs. One of the streets off the courtyard was Smithfield Court. This was once the battle-ground of the whole neighbourhood where wrathful pugilists resorted, even from the most distant parts of town, to settle their disputes undisturbed by impertinent policemen. How far these explosions of brutality were connected with the drinking habits of the people, may be gathered from the fact that Saturday night and Sunday were the times when these fierce, and often bloody, struggles took place. The court was a somewhat spacious, but very filthy courtyard. The houses were filled with as many human beings as could huddle together within their walls. To most of these - it was but too certain - these periodic fights afforded
no small gratification. It would be unfair to say that all the fighting which took place in that area happened in Smithfield Court. Another notorious den was Hudson's Entry. An account of a ministers' fact finding mission to the Smithfield area in October 1852 told how at the space at the top of old Hudson's Entry he witnessed a most brutal contest between two lads 'of tender age', one of whom was backed by his mother, who, when her boy grew faint and feeble from loss of blood, spirited him on, by the promise of choice eatables, if he would only bruise and beat his antagonist. It was Smithfield holiday - the Sabbath - and multitudes, young and old, flocked to witness this event and to give the necessary impetus to these youthful gladiators. The minister described how the mother stood there, arms extended and hair dishevelled - a human fiend - urging on, by voice and gesture, her own child to murderous deeds, while the blood spurted over his tattered garments and fell upon the ground. One of the missionaries - a humane man - ran to obtain the aid of the police without success and so tried to intervene himself. His efforts to end the atrocious spectacle resulted in the mother turning on him like a tigress, ready to tear his throat for daring to interfere with her or her child. Scenes such as this were by no means a rarity and it was claimed that there relatively few weeks which were not ushered in with disgraceful brawls of this kind. The alley referred to as Hudson's Entry was, described as a complete den of vice and unclean illness and in fact those whose job it was to go into such areas and make a factual report on their findings stated that whilst they tried to take in the loathsome picture the place presented they it fact dared not go into the street itself. They beheld there, wretches, squatting at their doors or staggering along
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and tottering from side to side of the narrow passage, unable to walk be cause of drink, even though they visited that place in the morning.' At the time of their report the alleyway contained 55 houses and held a resident population of almost 400 people. Indeed the great social reformers and those who had a real interest in relieving the lot of the poor inhabitants of Belfast, pointed to the fact that there were twenty public houses in Smithfield alone, of which all, or nearly all, exhibited unmistakable marks of a brisk and lucrative trade. Not only that but beside these pubs there was always a pawnbroker to be found. Many people have written of the evils of drink and also the evils of those who would prey on society encouraging poor people to indulge in such a vice. From the court cases which regularly appeared in the local press we can clearly see how the community's self esteem was gradually worn away through people's love for strong drink. In 1868 Hudson's Entry comprised 40 small
houses though by 1878 all that remained were 10 vacant shops. The entry was eventually demolished and developed into the Gresham Street of today. A street better known today for its sex shops and second-hand book-stores it is hard to believe that at one stage this street was one of the most notorious slums in Belfast, a place where disease, prostitution, drinking, fighting, hunger and a high death rate were a part of everyday life. Remember the next time you visit the city centre of Belfast remember how our forefathers endured the most atrocious living conditions possible. The poverty and cramped living conditions of the area were embarrassing even by Victorian standards. Hercules Street has now been completely revamped into today's modern glass fronted buildings of Royal Avenue with all traces of the horrors of the Belfast of old eradicated forever. The sites of Torrens Market and the old Smithfield Market are now covered by the vast Castle Court complex.
Smithfield Square around 1900
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Belfast map of 1888 showing Smithfield This was the year the town of Belfast became a city
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SMITHFIELD S mithfield in the old days was much as it is today, an open market for miscellaneous goods, new and second-hand, with this difference, that its stock in trade was even more varied and extensive, for in Smithfield in the long ago could be purchased - as well as the innumerable and diverse articles displayed for sale today - hides and wool, and every description of marketgarden stuff, livestock and farm produce. ‘The Market,’ as it was called, was a large shed in the centre of the square, surrounded by a strong railing, having between it and the houses the breadth of a street, as it is now. Its uncovered aisles were open to the rain and sun and all the wind that blew. On fair days and market days the square and the streets adjoining presented busy and colourful scenes. Amusement booths were set up on every hand, with their painted clowns disporting themselves outside. Here, amid the din and loud squeak of the Punch and Judy Shows, the bartering and clapping of hands as horses, mules and asses changed owners, the screaming of cheapjacks where the country people gathered, wide-eyed, around the rolls of gaudy woven stuffs, with which the barrows were piled high, stood big Dan Halliday rattling his delph to show its soundness at, it seemed
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This article was written by Cathal O’Byrne and first appeared in the Belfast Telegraph in 1945
the imminent risk of reducing his plates and dishes to smithereens. Here too, Alec McNicholl sang his ballads in the midst of an admiring ring, and Peter Maxwell told lugubrious stories of his mother, and shed copious tears while engaged in their telling. Open-air circus performances were given, and there was always a waxworks to be found in some shop that was for the moment unoccupied. A Mrs Davis kept a handball alley, and, as the game was a popular one, her premises were much frequented by young bloods of the period. A map, dated 1819, places the old House of Industry at the corner of Smithfield and Marquis Street, which street was formerly called Fergusom's Lane, from the fact that the grandfather of the great Irish poet, Sir Samuel Ferguson, had a tanyard there at the corner of Mill Street.
Smithfield's `black gardens,' through which ran Croarkin's pad, were parallel with Hercules Street (now Royal Avenue) in the old days, and one or two of the garden trees may still be seen in a yard in Garfield Street. Until demolished to make room for the post office extension, the lime-washed slated houses im Charlemont Street were occupied mainly by a group of people who sold fish, oysters, and, occasionally, great golden slabs of honeycomb, carried on a huge dish that was balanced by a sugaun on the vendor's head. These people were all from Omeath, and were Gaelic speakers almost to a man, so that, until recently, there was in the heart of Belfast an Irish-speaking colony, the men of which were referred to as `the phadyees ' (Paddies). On the west side of Smithfield, where King Street was cut through later, there was a little recessed place, where the houses, built in the continental fashion, had stone stairs outside leading up to the second storeys. Here all kinds of trades were carried on in the open air, coopers, carpenters, blacksmiths, and wheelwrights all hammering and working away for most of
the twenty-four hours, in their own leisurely, if noisy, fashion. Smithfield, from Francis Street to West Street, on the north side, was a veritable rookery of hallways, alleyways and gangways leading up to balconies - each with its nest of dwelling places - higher and ever higher. Once you had found your way, assuredly from direst necessity, to the heights or the depths, it would have taken Ariadne with her clue to lead you forth to the light again. Here Russell, the coffin-maker, worked in the dim light of a long corridor, the ominous tick-tack of his busy hammer sounding all through the day, and often far into the night. And here, also, Dinsmore, Belfast's Grinling Gibbons, did his marvellous carvings in wood, a piece of which today - were shoddy not la mode - would be worth a mint of money. Smithfield had a public house at every corner, with not a few in between. The Square, in 1847 contained in all fifty-six dwelling houses, and the roofs of the dwelling houses covered one hundred and seventy-two males and one hundred and eighty-two females. The people of the market from the earliest times were theatre minded. In the old days there was a theatre, The Mill Gate Theatre, at the corner of Mill Street and Chapel Lane, and there were others. In later times McCormick's theatre - where Little Nell died every night to the 'slow music' of a drum and one
fiddle -enjoyed an enormous popularity. The beadle, or bellman, in the old days, was a familiar figure around the market square of Smithfield. Bell in hand, he could be seen parading the cobble stones, shouting out his items of interest, and thereby earning his ÂŁ10, as, from posters set up by Stewart Banks, the sovereign of the town, the public learned was the sum of his yearly salary. `Any person willing to be bellhour or beadle in the town of Belfast, and will undertake to keep the town clear of strolling beggars and vagrants, is desired to apply to Stewart Banks, esq., sovereign, who will give a person properly quahfied for that office a yearly salary of ÂŁ10'
On Sunday, 28th of this instant July, 1750, a little boy named William Filluna, about 14 or 15 years of age, a servant belonging to Widow Morrison, nigh Clady, near Templepatrick, being sent with some money to pay a cow his mistress had bought from a man nigh Connor, did not go, but went off and carried the money with him. The boy has short red hair, and had on when he went away a coarse linen coat and waistcoat, much worn, a pair of old leather breeches and black yarn stockings, and a pair of new broags and a coarse shirt and an old hat. Whoever takes up the said boy and confines him in any gaol and sends word to the said Widow Morrison or to Samuel Birney, at Clady, in the County of Antrim, nigh Templepatrick, shall have half a guinea reward paid to him by said Widow Morrison or Samuel Birney. N.B. - The said boy had been guilty of stealing money and a watch from a master he once lived with before, for which he was try'd for his life in either Dublin or Armagh.
Stewart Banks Billposters were popular in town and, whenever one appeared with his paste-can and brush whether in Smithfield or elsewhere, a crowd was sure to collect to read the latest proclamation or item of news such as the following :
The dealers of Smithfield, new and old, have always enjoyed a well-earned reputation for integrity and fair dealing. They could, and would, drive a hard bargain, but, as you would be told, civilly but firmly, ` Your eye was your merchant, and if the price didn't suit you, well, you
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were not compelled to buy; the days of coercion were over and done with, thank God, and the world was wide.' Torrens Market The Smithfield dealers in the old days were mainly women, and amongst them were not a few outstanding personalities. Becky and Peg Gilmore were names well known to all seekers after objets d'art, antiques, pictures, old glass and old china. These women were sisters, and like the `pixalated' ladies of the movies, Peg, the younger, was Becky's echo, and with her Becky's word was a law to be obeyed. Becky Gilmore was a stout, handsome woman, with silver-grey hair and a roseleaf complexion, who dressed always in black silk (moire antique) with a voluminous white apron, and a bonnet with strings untied. For ornament, she displayed on her ample bosom a large cameo brooch, with long ear-rings hanging down to her shoulders, to match, a long gold guard, wound several times round her neck, to which was attached a tiny gold watch, hidden away among the buttons of her bodice. Becky Gilmore was a rare judge of diamonds and all kinds of gold and silver jewellery. She held a `roving commission' to buy for Barney Campbell, Smithfield's own jeweller, any and all such articles that came her way. Other women there were of note whose names were well known in the market. Jennie Russell, Mary McCormick, Sarah Cassidy, Jane Robinson and
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Mary Little, to name but a few. Smithfield Square was at one time noted for its good-looking men and women. There were the 'handsome Dawsons' - furniture and fancy goods dealers - a family of splendid looking men and unusually beautiful women. The women of the Kavanagh family - harness-makers and ironmakers - were typical Irish beauties: tall, with Junoesque figures, blue-black hair, brilliant complexions and teeth like a flash of light. The Dean family on the east side of the square where you could hire anything from a brougham to a handcart
could also boast of beautiful daughters, with splendid figures and exquisite colouring. Barney Campbell, the famous jeweller, had more than one fair daughter, and the McCoy family were as distinguished for their musical, literary and artistic taste as they were for their business acumen. The people of Smithfield in the old days, while they made money by the hat full, did not neglect the social amenities. Kindly, neighbourly and generous to a degree beyond the ordinary, to them the finer things of life were as important as the goods of this world.
Map of Smithfield in 1819 showing the House of Industry
CLAY PIPE MAKING inetavern Street today is a brisk, busy little street with two great bus stations. It connects two equally busy and historically interesting thoroughfares - North Street and Smithfield. The street in the old days was known locally as `Pipe Lane,' but never officially, so far as I can learn. The oldest Belfast directory in my possession is dated 1819, and in it the street is listed as Winetavern Street. How it came by that name I do not know, for in the year 1819 the street had but one tavern,
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situated at No 41, and owned by one Charles Morrison. In the year 1852, however, it could boast of eight public houses; but in 1861 the number had dwindled down again to four. In 1819 Winetavern street had thirty-two dwelling houses, all of them also places of business in which were housed an extremely heterogeneous collection of trades. The cotton spinning mill of Thomas Mulholland and Company was at the corner of the Smithfield end, and woodworkers, shoemakers, weavers, bridle-
This article was written by Cathal O’Byrne and first appeared in the Belfast Telegraph in 1944
bit makers, tallow-chandlers, tinplate workers, saddle-tree makers, stonemasons, flaxdressers, blacksmiths, huxters, hosiers, chemists, bricklayers, fancy-dyers, whitesmiths and nailers made up the list of the old street's inhabitants. But perhaps the most interesting trade, and certainly the most characteristic since it gave its name to the old place, was the trade of claypipe
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making. According to the old street directory, in the year 1819 one James Hamilton was a pipemaker at No 5 Winetavern court. In the year 1840 a James Hamilton was in the same business at No 41 this must have been in Charley Morrison's old premises - and in 1852 there was a James Hamilton in the pipe making business at No 63 Great Patrick street. In 1861 there was a Thomas Hanulton a pipe maker at 41 Winetavern street, and in 1865 there was a Thomas Hamilton making pipes at No 40 in the same street. So that
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for one hundred and twentytwo years the family of Hamilton carried on the business of clay pipe making in Belfast, and mainly in the same street, `pipe lane,' or old Winetavern Street. In an interesting chat with a representative of the Hamilton family, I learned much concerning the unique trade of clay pipe making in Belfast, and not the least interesting item of information was that the Hamilton's ran a flourishing business, trading with every county in Ireland, until the setting up of the `the border,'
after which the trade gradually dwindled away and eventually died out, when the factory at Bathurst Court, off Durham Street, was closed down in 1931 The Mr Hamilton with whom I talked informed me that the clay pipe factory in Belfast was founded in 1812 in `pipe lane' (Winetavern street) by Thomas Hamilton, who was the sole proprietor, and at the beginning employed about twelve men, with four girls working under them as finishers. The pipe makers of Belfast had a trade society, with on its roster, about sixty pipe makers, who worked under its rules the same as any other trade society. The members had a recreation club in which they held meetings and played games, and organised outings during the summer season. They also provided themselves with a boat in which, after working hours in the summer evenings, parties would take their turn to go for a sail on the lough or a row up the Lagan to Molly Ward's. Refined, intelligent and cultured people as they were, the pipe makers formed a brass and reed band composed almost exclusively of Hamilton's and Cunninghams, another pipe making firm, and the employees of both places. This band played every Christmas morning at the six
o'clock Mass in old Saint Mary's, under the conductorship of a Mr Chant. The band, a fine one, was much in demand for nationalist meetings in and around Belfast, and took engagements to attend excursions and appear at concerts. In the old days no tradesman or labourer in Belfast would consider himself properly dressed on Sunday if, to set off the ensemble, he had not a new clay pipe. So, on Saturday nights all roads led to `pipe
lane,' where at Hamilton's and Cunningham's, a man had all shapes and sizes, and dozens of different patterns to choose from. In dozens of iron moulds were made the dozens of different kinds of pipes, and each had its distinctive name - the Derry, the Miner, the Workman, the Cave Hill Cutty, the Gladstone, the Bright, the Crown Prince, the, Johnston of Ballykilbeg, the Lily, the Shamrock, and many another name to suit the political leaning, as well as the
aesthetic taste of the prospective purchaser. Cut dies were used to stamp on them not only the variety of the classes into which the pipes were assorted, but often the names of the firms from which the pipes had been received. Of the latter I was shown a few samples with the following legends : ` Land League with Harp,' ` Julius McConnell I x L.N.T. - Ards (Newtownards),' `Smoke Carroll's Dundalk Premier Coil,' and 'The Wannamakers' Stores' of New York and Philadelphia. The proprietors of ‘the John Wannamakers' stores ' in both the great American cities gave to each of their customers on St Patrick's Day an Irish clay pipe made in Winetavern Street, Belfast, and a sprig of shamrock brought specially from Ireland for the great day. This great American firm was for many years amongst the best customers the Hamilton's had. In the old days the Belfast pipe makers did a great business in pipe clay with the soldiers who came to the old military barracks in North Queen Street, the clay being in great demand for whitening belts and other military accoutrements. Each regiment that came to the town had a certain shape of clay pipe made specially for it, with its own stamp and number on every pipe. The clay used for making the pipes came from
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Devonshire in England, and from the manner in which they `fired' their work, the Hamilton's were recognised the world over as the premier manufacturers of Irish clay pipes. When times were good the Hamilton's had a traveller continually `on the road,' who booked orders in every part of Ireland. Many orders came from England, and tourists passing through Belfast found their way to `pipe lane' to bring back with them some Irish clay pipes for their friends. From time to time migratory pipe makers from almost every part of Ireland came to `pipe lane,' where, on reporting themselves to the secretary of the society and producing their card of membership, they had rarely any difficulty in finding a place in the factories. Many of these wandering pipe makers were fluent Irish speakers; to most of them the Irish came more readily than the Bearla, and especially was this the case with the men who came from Galway, and Knockcroghery in county Roscommon, many of whom had no English at all, so that with the Gaelic speaking `Fadyees' of Charlemont Street, and the Gaelic speaking pipe makers of Winetavern Street, the heart of Belfast was literally - how it was nationally needs no telling - as Irish as any other town on Ireland's ground. Diminutive pipes, called `fairy
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pipes' or `Danes pipes' have, from time to time, been found in every part of Ireland. In the year 1906, during excavations in Corn Market, Belfast, clay pipes were found with barrel shaped bowls and flattened spurs, the spurs being flattened to enable the pipes to remain in an upright position when placed on the table. Around the year 1682 a very
short-stemmed pipe known as the `Dudeen' was in vogue in Ireland. In Scotland it was called `the cutty pipe.' A very popular make of this pipe in the old days was `the Ulster cutty,' with on one side of the bowl the hand of Ulster, above the word `cutty', and on the other side a heart formed of diagonal lines impressed in the clay.
Page from the 1819 Belfast Street Directory listing James Hamilton as a pipe maker in Winetavern Street
Map of Smithfield in 1790
Map of Smithfield around 1840
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Belfast map of 1900 showing Smithfield and its surrounding areas
A half door cottage in Millfield in the Smithfield area in 1957
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The old Smithfield Mill being demolished to clear the way for an extension to the bus station in 1952
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ON THIS DAY Rebuild – that is the cry of Smithfield BELFAST TELEGRAPH Tuesday 7th May 1974
B
elfast’s famous Smithfield market was a smouldering ruin today following a fire, which ranged through the night. Smoke and the smell of burning hung in the morning air as firemen hosed down the ashes of what was a famous landmark and rendezvous. Eight fire engines rushed to the scene when the fire was discovered just after 3.00am, but although more than a dozen jets were brought into use little was saved. The roof of the building soon collapsed as the flames swept from shop to shop and the firemen could only prevent the blaze from spreading outside the square. "The old buildings were mostly made of wood and the flames caught hold very quickly," said a spokesman for the fire service. "There was little we could do." Following a meeting of traders, a deputation went to the City Hall this afternoon to demand that the market should be rebuilt. People stood in tears in the
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square this morning and gazed in disbelief at the charred shell. As the experts probed the scene for clues to the cause of the fire, local people and shop owners were convinced that the blaze was the work of incendiary bombers. "How could anyone do this?" asked one man as he looked at the shell of his clothes shop. "The market was for all creeds and classes. What the hell do they hope to gain." Said one of the best known traders in the area, 57 –year-old Joseph Kavanagh: "All morning people have been asking and appealing and demanding that we get together and rebuild the market. "I hope the people of the market will do this. It will never be the same again, but we must
do our best to preserve as much of the character of the place as we can." As he and his staff attempted to salvage some medals and coins from his jewellery and antique shop – one of three he owns there – there were tears in his eyes. "Smithfield was a living museum." He said. "One woman told me this morning that she got part of her education here as a child. "I am choking this morning and I don’t know whether it is from emotion or smoke. "My family, from my grandfather to myself, have been in the market. I am not going out of it now. I look forward to the day when we have an even better Smithfield." Another man who had a cloth shop in the market for seven years, Mr. Charles McLarnon,
who lives in Bangor, said: "The market was Belfast. Everyone met their friends here and had a wee chat. I don’t know what will happen now but if the red tape is cut there could be a market again in a very short time. A woman who has shopped in the market from her childhood was too overcome to speak. "I loved the Market." Was all she could say through her tears. As some shop owners talked of having the site cleared with bulldozers it was impossible to distinguish in the rubble the space that had been the second hand furniture shop and which had been the bookshop. While there is a determination that Smithfield should be rebuilt the former Belfast Corporation had plans to change the area dramatically. The plan, part of an overall one for the city, proposed the demolition of the buildings in the square and the area being made part of a central bus station for the city. "There were also plans for a car park there and a market hall where the type of trading which has been going on there for generations could be continued," said a City Hall spokesman. He said the plan was still in a programme but while areas had been earmarked for various purposes this was not final. "There would have to be discussions with al interested parties before anything was done," he said. "I don’t know what will happen in the light of last nights fire. It is much too early to say yet."
The Way It Was ... T
hey bought anything in Smithfield. But there was one thing they couldn’t buy – survival. The backbone of Belfast lies in ruins. One of the city’s oldest institutions has gone, a large slice of history, which can never be replaced. All that remains is ashes and nearly 200 years of memories and nostalgia. In the archives, one of the earliest references to Smithfield early in the 18th century when John Greg advertised a house to let at Smith’s field, "with continuous grazing for two cows." Itinerants camped in the field from time to time and earned a living from mending pots and pans for the housewives of the town of Belfast. But in 1780 the growing town’s cattle market – held every Friday in High Street – became too small for the needs of the dealers and buyers. The authorities cast their eyes around for something bigger and fixed on the convenient field at the end of Berry Street for their new market. And so Smithfield market was born. By 1819 it was
flourishing. Monday, Wednesday and Friday was set aside for the sale and purchase of wheat, barley and oats. Tuesday, Thursday and Friday too were devoted to the sale of hides. By the 1870’s it had 27 licensed taverns and two theatres. One was owned by a Mr. Calvert, the other by a Mr. Heffernon, both of whom presented nightly performances that varied from Shakespeare to dancing dogs. Thousands of people came to the market and not just to buy and sell. They came for the entertainment from the jugglers, the Punch and Judy shows and the ballad singers. Jane the nailer was a well-known singer at the time. Around 1850 the market branched into the literary field when Peter Mullan set up the first stall dealing in old books. It appears, from that time onwards, that the market began to forget its horses cattle and seed. More and more traders were going in for books, pictures, bric-a-brac and just about everything else going at the time.
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Belfast Street Directory 1971
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Famous trading names were Kavanagh, Dawson and Shearer. One of its most famous voices was that of Jack Jeffers, the auctioneer. Towards the end of the 19th century the centre area containing several passages was covered over. It remained much the same from then onwards until early this morning. But Smithfield’s future has been in jeopardy from the 50’s. Then, councillors in the Corporation were becoming concerned about the city’s traffic problems. They needed more space for car parks.
Smithfield, for the first storey car park over time since its birth was Smithfield. And so the market continued. It adunder a cloud. justed itself to modern In December 1953, shopping trends, but Councillor C. Haig said kept its old atmosphere. at a meeting of Belfast Tourists flocked to it Chamber of Trade: every year. The late "Smithfield is a museum Ralph Bossence wrote of piece. It has served its Smithfield in 1964: "It is purpose and is no longer one of the few pieces of a decoration to the city. old world charm we Another councillor sug- have, both to give ourgested that it be replaced selves moments of relief the growing by a modern shopping from centre, but the traders ugliness of the city centre firmly resisted any moves and to offer tourists to do away with their be- something that does not fit into the monotonous loved market. In 1964 Belfast pattern of conformity Corporation Estates and now spreading over these market committee re- islands." That summed jected a suggestion for up Smithfield to those the building of a multi- who loved it.
Smithfield may be a burnt out ruin but the trading sprit lives on
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SMITHFIELD MEMORIES When the old Smithfield Market was burned down in May '74, it was reported that many people openly wept. How could an antiquated collection of shops and dusty old stalls, have captured such a place in peoples hearts?. My first memories of Smithfield Market, was of going down to the 'Magic Box'. with a group of other lads from where I lived. The 'Magic Box' in Smithfield Square, facing the old Central Picture House, was, as its name implied, a shop that sold magic or, if you prefer, tricks to deceive the mind and eye. In its window were displayed all the tricks of the conjurers trade - or so we were led to believe. Most of the products didn't live up to the advertised promise to make your mind boggle. Like the disappearing coin, a coin shaped piece of glass. Concealing it in a handkerchief, you let your friends feel it before dropping it into a glass of water. They weren't supposed to see it, but they did. Then there was the nail through the finger trick, stink bombs, Chinese puzzle finger rings, which locked on your finger. But big favourites were the marked decks of playing cards, useful in card schools
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- if you weren't caught on. Older, my visits to the market were mostly for records for the old wind-up gramophone we had in our house, and as time went on, my main interest would be in books. But whatever my reason for going to it, the place itself fascinated me. During the fifties and sixties living as I did up the Falls, my journey to and from to the docks where I worked occasioned me passing through the market when ever I finished a boat early. Now I could have caught a trolleybus, but like I said the place held a fascination for me. One of its attractions was its variety. I would wander round the stalls sometimes for an hour or more, just browsing, without ever getting bored. From old sound boxes for gramophone to valves and parts for wireless sets, second hand bikes, prams, all kinds of furniture, even clothes second hand and new. It was what you might call a shopping mall without the fancy trimmings. My aunt's husband Tommy Wylie was forever picking up old radio parts in it. Twiddling the knob of a very noisy contraption he'd put together, he asked my father. "What station do you think
Terry O’Neill that would be Jimmy?" "Sounds like the Midland Railway" he was told. He wasn't amused. Hugh McConnell, who sold radio parts and valves, being only four foot six, stood on a wooden platform to give himself a bit of height. He also sold second hand false teeth....Yuk! Bargains were to be had to if you had the right eye and know how for antiques. I know of one man who set up selling mainly furniture, but also bric a brac. Now we've all heard these type of yarns, but I know these ones to be true. Lifting an old vase a women asked the price. "Five shillings " she was asked. Coming back a month later she confessed she got ninety pounds for it at auction. Something similar with a book collecting priest - a regular visitor. Lifting a book from among the bric-a-brac, he asked if the if the five shilling price tag was correct. "It is, but it's two shillings to you Father." The priest just smiled and told him to start learning his trade, because the book was worth hundreds of pounds. But then how much is an octopus worth. Joe Kavanagh, a bit of a showman besides being a
The old Pet Shop in Gresham Street Taken from Images of Belfast by Robert Johnstone and Bill Kirk
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dealer, was confronted one day by two dockers to honour his advertising slogan "I Buy Anything" and buy a baby octopus they'd fished out of the Pollock Dock. Joe gave them a tenner for it, and later released it back into the sea, but not before he'd persuaded the Belfast Telegraph, to carry the story, with himself the dockers, and of course the octopus in the paper that evening. Joe was involved in a courtcase involving his 'I Buy Anything' slogan, when Peter McGinn a fellow trader started using it. Joe won the case when the court upheld his argument that it was he who had familiarised it, but soon after just yards from him, didn't Flood's shop stick up a large sign claiming "We Buy Anything". This time Joe decided against litigation Like I said books were my main interest in the old market and rarely a week went by that I didn't pick up
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a few reads. If I'd kept all the poetry and history books I bought, instead of lending them , I'd have a fair library today. One book I deeply regret lending was called 'Poems Of Childhood.' It was on one of the very small stalls that sold odds and ends, old locks, spanners, that sort of thing. Spotting it on its own, and without opening it , I priced it. The stall owner, a frail old man of eighty or more told me seven and sixpence. I had about fifteen shillings on me but wanting the money for a few pints that night I told him I'd only two shillings and started to put it back, but he stopped me. "You can have it for nothing" he told me. "I'm a poetry lover myself and appreciate anyone else who is too" Embarrassed, and feeling a little guilty at my own meanness, I accepted the book, with a promise to pay him the next time I was down. Home, and an examination of the book brought even
more guilt. Not only was it a beautiful collection of famous poems about childhood but it was leather bound with pages of the highest quality paper. Also, though its published date was 1923, it had never been opened, being as new as the day it had left the printers. To ease my conscience, I called down the first chance I got intending to give him a pound note for it. But both he and his stall were gone. I inquired of other stall-holders as to what had happened to him, but drew a blank. Perhaps he'd fell ill, maybe even died, because like I said he was a very old man - and a kind and generous one. Now maybe that little story answers my earlier question, as to why the old market found such a place in our hearts. I stood the day after the fire, along with many others, shocked that, as one commentator put it, "the heart and soul had been torn out of Belfast city centre". With the I.R.A. disclaimer, conspiracy theories abounded, but whatever its cause Smithfield Market was gone forever. Three of my four boys had slept in the cot I bought from Peter McGinn. There was the Fender acoustic guitar in Marcus's that I never could gather the money to buy. Many other things I got. and many I didn't. But I did get loads of memories, and there's no price tag on those.
Belfast map of 1854 showing Smithfield (Centre Left)
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A SMITHFIELD GHOST STORY THE PIPE LANE MILL HAUNTING
A
lthough not its proper title, the Pipe Lane Mill was a large five storey building which stood on the site occupied by the present Smithfield Market on Winetavern Street, (Pipe Lane was this streets former title.) The building was constructed in 1854 by the Smithfield Flax Spinning and Weaving Company and throughout the years as the demand for linen grew numerous extensions were added on. The site on which it was built was the ground on which the old Belfast jail stood and the gate lodge of the mill was in fact the residence of the prisons governor. DISASTER On Monday 20th January 1902 the workforce reported for duty at the usual time of 6.30am. and after the time permitted for their first break disaster struck. At approximately 9.30am. an extremely loud crashing sound was heard throughout the mill and moments later it was discovered that a large section of the building had
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collapsed. Panic immediately broke out and the workers rushed for the nearest exit. Hundreds of tons of masonry and twisted metal had fallen into the courtyard and crushed all the roving sheds below and those working within them were either killed outright or were seriously injured. As well as the masonry falling many machines fell with it and this included those people who were unfortunate enough to be working at them at that particular time. Soon after rescue work commenced to uncover the survivors and the bodies of those who were killed. This work continued for a few days until all hope of finding anyone else alive was gone. The following is the list of those who had died; Ellen Scott, Aged 14, 4 Letitia Street - Doffer. Alice Cunningham, Aged 20, 17 Jude Street - Reeler. Mary Burns, Aged 18, 34 California Street Spinner.
Mary Burke, Aged 19, 39 Arnon Street - Spinner. Mary Kerr, Aged 20, 9 Union Street - Spinner. Annie Hunter, Aged 16, 8 Sackville Street - Doffer. Mrs. Davidson, Aged 50, Address Unknown Reeler. Mary Williamson, Aged 22, 68 Gulian Street Spinner. Ellen Corr, Aged 40, 14 Artillery Street Preparer. Alice Mc Donnell, Aged 18, 4 Linton Street - Preparer. Mary Duff, Aged 60, 23 Wilson Street - Reeler. Lizzie Campbell, Aged 20, 117 Bristol Street - Reeler. Martha Mc Auley, Aged 13, 39 Wall Street - Doffer. SIGHTINGS A large number of people were very seriously injured and at later dates another two victims died in the Royal Hospital, Frederick Street. At the inquests it was found that "The collapse of the portion of the mill was due
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to (a) defect at the base of the piers, and are of opinion that the defect could not have been discovered by ordinary inspection, and that no blame can be attached to any person in connection with the accident." Repair work began on the mill after the inquest was held and within a year the mill was back to its full working capacity. Soon after tales then began to circulate concerning ghostly sighting of some of the people killed. One of these was the sighting by a number of mill girls of an elderly woman who appeared at one of the machines which stood on the repaired section of the floor. The woman stood for around 30 seconds and then moved to go around the machine. One of the women who saw her immediately stated that she had an uncanny likeness to Mary Duff, who had been killed, and when she went over to the machine to investigate the woman had completely disappeared. It was impossible for her to have gone anywhere without being seen by any of the other women and, because they were on the fourth floor, there was no where else she could have gone. This strange sighting went on for a number of years and even one of the senior staff claimed to have seen her. On that occasion one of the safety inspectors had been
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doing routine checks when he saw an old woman at one of the machines, (it had been in the evening and all the mill girls had gone home a few hours previously.) He went over to see what she was doing and as he did so he lost sight of her and the woman had disappeared. Knowing that something odd was occurring he immediately reported the incident to the watchman who informed him of the story and that a number of the girls had also seen the old woman. He then went back to the factory and completed his check without further incidents. The following day he went to the workrooms and began to ask questions about the old woman. Some of the workers who claimed to have seen her told him about what they had seen and described the woman. All the sightings, including the safety officers, matched. STAIRS Another sighting was that of another woman who, it was claimed, was seen on a number of occasions going down the spiral staircase of the mill. The first time this occurred was when one of the workers was coming up the stairs and saw another woman coming down. The pair passed each other and, because the woman was unknown to her, the girl looked behind her but the woman
had disappeared. Knowing that this was impossible in the seconds it took she then rushed down after her but there was no sight of her whatsoever. When she came back up she said nothing about the matter, that is until another sighting occurred a few months later. On this occasion one of the girls came into the workroom and stated that she was rushing up the stairs and that someone was coming down. She said that when they met the other had vanished in front of her and that she had paused for a few seconds before she realised what had happened. A few of the others went out to investigate and again there was no sign of the person she had seen. It was then that the first sighting was reported. Both the old woman and the girl on the stairs were claimed to have been seen a number of occasions after this and it soon after they became known as the “Pipe Lane Mill Hauntings.� A few years later the mill had shut down and in 1930 the property was sold to the London Midland & Scottish Railway Co. Most of the mill was demolished and the weaving shop was converted into a bus station. It was then used for this purpose until the 1970s and no further sightings were ever again reported.
Belfast map of Smithfield in 1955
Ariel view of Smithfield in 1965
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IMAGES OF OLD SMITHFIELD MARKET A collection of photographs taken by Kenneth McNally
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On the 7th of May the old Smithfield Market was completely destroyed by fire. To this day it is unknown if this was the result of an accident or an IRA incendiary attack.
On the 27th of August 1975 a number of the old Smithfield traders reopened in a series of port-a-cabin style shops laid out by the Belfast Corporation but traders and shoppers agreed that the character of the old Smilthfield Market was lost forever
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SMITHFIELD TODAY Thursday 22nd January 2009
Exhibition Organised as part of the BELFAST HISTORY PROJECT
BELFAST IN THE 1950’S A FASCINATING PHOTOGRAPHIC EXHIBITION SHOWING LIFE IN THE CITY DURING THE 1950’s
Governors House
BELFAST PRISON
The Crum (Crumlin Road) Thursday 23rd April Friday 24th April Saturday 25th April ADMISSION FREE Supported By
Old Belfast is published by the Glenravel Local History Project as part of our Belfast History Project scheme www.glenravel.com
ISSN 1757-7284