Shropshire Star

Hidden gems are unveiled

A Shrewsbury man is really going to town in his efforts to record the rich heritage that exists in and around his local community, writes Toby Neal.

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A Shrewsbury man is really going to town in his efforts to record the rich heritage that exists in and around his local community, writes

Toby Neal

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There is, says Johnny Morris, a lot of heritage on his road in Shrewsbury - and if nobody records it, whether the information be facts or myths, it will be lost forever, he fears.

I join him as he takes me on a little tour. Out of his front door in Kenton Drive, and turn left. Through some relatively modern housing, and up some steps, to come across a large, red brick building.

It was once, says Johnny, an old school, but he is not immediately sure whether it was Millmead School or Stonehurst School. It quickly becomes clear from a street name nearby that it was the latter.

Stonehurst was the girls' school, Millmead further down the road was the boys' school. In the shadow of the building some workers are doing something on Sutton Road.

And it is Sutton Road that Johnny is referring to when he talks about the unknown heritage. This work on the road, he has already told me, is connected with the building of the New Meadow. The council wants to stop football fans using Sutton Road as a short cut, he explains.

It means another major change for the road, and another twist in its history. And it is this which got him thinking.

Walking down Sutton Road he poses for a photo leaning against one of the old-fashioned green lampposts. He points out a big house called The Hollies, the one-time home of a Mr and Mrs Southam, who had Southam's Brewery in the town.

Nearby is the home of Hilda Murrell, the elderly lady whose murder in 1984 sparked a wave of conspiracy theories but who turned out to have been killed by a teenage burglar.

Before we turn right down Laundry Lane, he nods further down Sutton Road. There was a time, he says, when you could go further down the road and see Housman's "blue remembered hills" in the distance.

"Many people would tell you that - that you used to be able to see the Stretton Hills. It was important if you played golf, because if you could see snow on the Stretton Hills, you didn't go."

But you can't see them now. About 10 to 15 years ago, Johnny says, a new hill was created at the end of the road by workings to dig out stone, and the upshot was that the view was blocked.

Turning into Laundry Lane, there's a building on the lane near the junction which has a date stone from the mid-19th Century, but I say that I think the big house set further back on the corner may be older.

Really? says Johnny. We have a little chat about it. I'll look it up, I say. When I come to do so later, I can't find it, and it doesn't help that I can't remember what it was called anyway.

Down Laundry Lane and along a path close to the site of the old laundry, demolished only a few years ago, says Johnny. No pictures were taken of it, except when it was derelict, he adds glumly.

Across a brook and through a strange, enclosed path, and into a more open area. They shouldn't build on this because it's a flood plain, says Johnny, although he doesn't sound hopeful. Can you see how it's all a valley?

Then we get to a funny little bridge across the Rea Brook, before turning back.

As we get closer to his house he mentions that the father of somebody Very Important lives nearby. Johnny has lived close to Sutton Road for over 30 years.

"My father, Alf Morris, who lived in Old Coleham, always used to be very interested in it. When he came up here to see us he would say to me: 'Do you know you live in a historic road?'"

Johnny started to investigate and has jotted down notes. St Giles' Church is, he says, roughly contemporary with Shrewsbury Abbey.

"You come past the church and turn off Sutton Road and there's a house on the right there with a bell in the tower. It was the bell for the deer. That's where the word Belvidere comes from. This is a valley behind us here and all the way up almost to the Stretton Hills, and they used to get deer in it. Somebody would look out for them and if there were any deer in the valley, they would ring the bell.

"If this story isn't true, it is very close to being true."

Even as Johnny said it, it sounded a bit too literal to me, and I have a vague feeling I have read an alternative explanation somewhere in which the derivation of Belvidere is given as being from foreign words meaning something like "beautiful view".

But in a way it underlines Johnny's point. He wants to get to the bottom of things and find the truth about Sutton Road.

The Springfield council estate was built in about 1948, and the other big estate was the Sutton Farm estate, he says.

"The people who lived in Sutton Farm were called the Franks family. The farmhouse and the small buildings around it were still there when they built the estate. It was only knocked down later. They built the supermarket and the petrol station there."

Sutton Road was crossed by the 1930s Shrewsbury bypass, but went beyond it and you can still see the gateways, says Johnny.

As we part, he says: "I didn't think you'd be interested, to be honest."

He adds: "I don't think anybody has ever written about Sutton Road. I'm very interested in heritage."

By Toby Neal

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