The Circle Game
I’ve started getting really interested in the “Scuttlers of Manchester.” For those who, like me, knew nothing of them, here’s a brief explanation culled from
this article. Go on have a read. It gives us a fascinating insight into the turn of the 19th and 20th century Manchester and Salford.
“Scuttling gangs were neighbourhood-based youth gangs which were formed in working-class districts across the Manchester conurbation, from the independent county borough of Salford to the west of the city to the townships of Bradford, Gorton and Openshaw to the east. Contrary to Humphries' assertion that gang violence was underpinned by deprivation, the gangs were formed in a wide range of neighbourhoods, from the central "slums" to the more prosperous working-class neighbourhoods in manufacturing districts such as Gorton and Openshaw. In addition to fierce local rivalries between gangs from adjacent neighbourhoods, there were wider antagonisms between gangs from Manchester and those from the borough of Salford. Press reports suggest that gang conflicts erupted in Manchester in the early 1870s and flared periodically for three decades, before declining in both frequency and severity by the late 1890s. It is difficult to trace a causal relationship between levels of violence and downturns in the trade cycle. The years 1878-1879, 1884-1886 and 1892-1895 saw high levels of cyclical unemployment in Manchester, yet the most intense escalation of gang conflicts appears to have occurred in 1889-1890. Indeed, 1889 was a year of "exceptionally good trade."
“Most of the victims of such assaults appear to have been young males. However, the local press occasionally reported the severe beatings suffered by adults who attempted to intervene on behalf of youths who were being assaulted by scuttlers, and there is evidence that witnesses called to testify against gang members in court were subjected to widespread harassment. Assaults upon adults passing through streets which gangs claimed as their territory appear to have been less common, but occasional instances, sometimes motivated by racism and anti-semitism, were reported by the local press, and even young children in the company of their parents were vulnerable in such instances. Moreover, gang members, in common with young men in working-class districts more generally, were also periodically convicted for assaults upon women, including their "sweethearts," mothers, aunts and sisters-in-law. However, the perpetrators of such assaults may well have insisted that acts of violence against women should not be classed as "scuttling", since, in their own terms, they only "scuttled" rival gang members.
“Scuttlers were intensely style-conscious. Fashion was by no means a feminine preserve among young people in working-class districts, but it is significant that male gang members appear to have been much more concerned with their appearances than other young men in similar occupations. Style was used by scuttlers to signify "hardness". Gang members distinguished themselves from other young men in working-class neighbourhoods by wearing a uniform of pointed clogs, "bells" (bell-bottomed trousers, cut "like a sailor's" and measuring fourteen inches round the knee and twenty-one inches round the foot) and "flashy" silk scarves. Their hair was cut short at the back and sides, but they grew long fringes which were worn in a parting and plastered down on the forehead over the left eye. "Pigeon-board" peaked caps were also worn tilted to the left, and angled to display the fringe. This style of dress carried both status and risk, however, as any young man who adopted such fashions became a target for gangs from rival districts.”
It just goes to show that there’s nothing new under the Sun is there? I've got a funny feeling I would've been wearing anything but Scuttling gear if I had been around at the time. I bet my grandad would've known a few seeing as he was a Collyhurst lad, although he was probably a bit too young to have been involved properly.
It was funny over the weekend as Dearest and I caught an eighty two bus to Piccadilly for an afternoon and early evening of promenading around the streets of Manchester before food and drink and a bus or a train back home.
On the way down we passed Bengal Street in Ancoats. If you read the article you will see that the 'Bengal Tigers' - a particular vicious group of Scuttlers - named themselves after this street. As we stopped at the lights near the street Dearest commented that 'Bengal' was a strange name for a street in Ancoats. We then started discussing the Indian Empire and how that had more than likely prompted the patriotic naming. I then told Dearest all about the 'Bengal Tigers', the Scuttlers and how this was their area. She was amazed that such youth groups were extant all those years ago. In fact she was disgusted when she heard what they got up to.
"I can't believe they named a street after them."
Liverpool was grand. It really is a great city - as a lot of these northern post industrial cities are. Leeds, Bradford, Sheffield and the likes of Birmingham further down the country. I really would recommend city breaks to anyone who wants to understand and experience a little more of this great country of ours.
We stayed in the
Hard Day's Night Hotel, having got a reduced rate of £130 for one night (with no breakfast - that was £17 extra each). It really was plush although I think our reduced rate was reflected in the fact that we got the Ringo room. Still could've been worse, it could've been Pete Best.
So we did the full tourist bit. Beatles museum, open top bus tours and the Albert Dock. We did the 'Cavern' although it's not the original Cavern and spent Saturday night on Mathew Street in a cellar full of noise listening to some great music.
We learnt so much on the open top bus tour. It is a good way to grasp a basic understanding of the layout of a place and also some of the history and contemporary life of the city. We passed the original headquarters of the
White Star Line with its balconies from which the directors would read out the names of survivors from the Titanic to the distraught crowds below. I love it when history shimmers tantalisingly in front of you and you can almost see the events unfolding in your mind's eye.
So, thoroughly recommended.
So the Beijing brouhaha is finally over and the tentacles of the totalitarian state are still coiled round everything they fear and the baton, along with the eyes of the World, passes to London for 2012. Twenty twelve - when I was a kid I couldn't believe that such a far flung date would ever arrive. Time eh? It's a bitch.
Twenty twelve, the London Olympics that are going to benefit ALL of the UK. That old 'trickle down' theory making a comeback and fooling no one. The London games will benefit who they have always benefited: corporations, crooks and chancers. You can define them anyway you like. The South East will, once again, get money thrown at it while the rest of the country pays. Once again the bodies that run our sports are being inexorably drawn to London.
One of the success stories in Beijing was our cyclists. This was due to the World class facilities we have in the Manchester and Cardiff velodromes. Velodromes that I was convinced would be utilised for the London games but no. On the same day that we won a record number of cycling medals they announce that London's new bigger and better velodrome had opened at a cost of £22m. How long before the UK's National Cycling Body moves from Manchester to London?
I've had to listen to smug gits on radio phone ins over the last week telling anyone north of Watford to start saving now so they can attend the games in four years time. Pricks. I wonder what the going rate for a hotel room in London will be by then? How much for a rip off hotdog, burger or beer in rip-off Britain 2012? In fact how much for the Games? A lot more than Boris and the rest reckon that's for sure.
OccupiedCountry: official cynical partner of the London 2012 Olympics.
Football columnists are full of crap. The amount of spurious conjecture that pours from their credit less keyboards would result in the sack if anyone in any other industry was so consistently, so spectacularly and so constantly WRONG!
Which brings me to Manchester City's new Executive Chairman (whatever that is): Gary Cooke. Gary Cooke was headhunted by our Thai ex-billionaire from Nike and boy does it show. Everything that is wrong with the power-fixated megalomaniacs lining up to buy a bit of the Premiership is crystallised in this price-of-everything-value-of-nothing tosser. Try this interview in the
weekend's Guardian.
. Here's a well reasoned excerpt:-
By his own admission, Garry Cook has radical views on football that not everyone will agree with, not least his belief that there should be a new top division of 10-14 elite clubs with no promotion or relegation. 'The fans,' he says, 'would find a way to get passionate about it.'
A Birmingham City fan, with a part-West Midlands and part-American accent, Cook previously worked in an executive role for Nike in Portland, Oregon, becoming president of the Nike Jordan Brand.
The Premier League is '10 years behind' the US in merchandising. 'This is the most powerful sports league in the world but also the most undervalued.' Manchester United had not 'even scratched the surface and if anyone's got a headstart it's them'.
As for City, he says their behind-the-scenes operation is a 'shock to me' explaining: 'You look at our brand and it's Thomas Cook. There's something not quite right about watching us in a bar in Beijing or Bangkok or Tokyo and seeing "Fred Smith's Plumbing, call 0161 ..."'
He was angry when a side of ex-players won the Masters tournament 'using our name and our badge when they had nothing to do with us - then, lo and behold, we congratulate them in the programme. You couldn't set up a band and call it the Drifters, so what are they doing using our name?'
*sighs, rubs temples and quietly weeps*
Here's some pics of Liverpool and Manchester.
Lennon. Beatles Museum. Liverpool.
Harrison. Beatles Museum. Liverpool.
Facsimile of the Cavern. Beatles Museum. Liverpool.
Mathew Street, Liverpool.
Brown Street, Manchester.
The old and the new. Beetham Tower, Manchester.
Student accomodation. Mancunian Way. Manchester.
Student accomodation. Mancunian Way. Manchester.
Contratemps in monochrome. Mancunian Way. Manchester.
Contratemps in grey and rust. Mancunian Way. Manchester.
Rise like lions after slumber...
That's all folks!
So that great listing galleon of a man has finally accepted the inevitable, had one last tipple, written one last heart-wrenchingly beautiful masterpiece, tucked into one last 'full Irish' and died an old man's death. Pneumonia I believe. Well I can relate to that. It has been killing folk who would've normally died many years older for more years than I care to remember.
Well, one day to go and Obama feels as though the goal is in sight. God knows why you would want to take the Presidential helm as the recession starts to bite but I guess the Democrats understand what they're in for and are prepared for the flack.
Wahey, sat here typing straight from my phone. I've inherited one of those 
Well it looks like Autumn's definitely settled in for the duration. Truly crap weather has been the order of the day for the past week or two. Scudding clouds, wet, damp, cold, windy. Crap.
Back from Santorini where we all (30+ of us) enjoyed a fabulous week that culminated in the marriage of Eldest and Mrs Eldest. The sun shone and occasionally the rain fell, but it shone and fell on a happy band of Brothers and Sisters who made the most of a technicolour interlude away from the constant dull grey of the Mancunian summer of 2008. And guess what we came back to? Constant. Dull. Incessant.
