WORCESTER has had some down at heel areas over the last couple of centuries, notably the Blockhouse and Lich Street – location of The Sack of Worcester saga – but probably the city’s worst slums were in the parish of All Saint’s, which covers the land between the riverside at South Quay and Deansway.
At a time when the Severn was a busy commercial waterway, it was a bustling conglomeration of narrow streets and alehouses, popular with rivermen and those who made their living off them.
Indeed I can remember my father, who was brought up in nearby Diglis in the 1920s, telling colourful tales of the riverside lodging houses, which provided overnight accommodation.
To cram as many bodies as possible in a room there were two charges; one for sleeping on the floor and a cheaper rate for sleeping “on the rope”, which involved hooking yourself into a rope fixed around the wall in loops and sleeping standing up.
But even that would not have compared with All Saints and neighbouring St Andrew’s in their hey day – or maybe low day.
A between the wars shot taken from All Saints church spire. South Quay and the bridge are at the top of the photo with the grain warehouses and riverside lodging houses nearby
Slum clearance there began in 1912, as the Corporation tackled not only terrible dwellings, but a population including those “filthy in person, behaviour and language”.
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The area was a fertile breeding ground for Worcester’s “characters”: like Dancing Dinah, who would dance beautifully after a few pints, having once been on the stage, and Hallelujah Lilly, who sang with the range of a trained opera singer.
Both ladies had sadly fallen victim to the Demon Drink.
St Andrew’s Institute in the shadow of the church spire
But the most prominent was undoubtedly Nobby Guy, a powerful character who could accurately boast it took several policemen to take him to the station.
He was known throughout Worcester because of what he considered his divine right to lead any procession in the city, including on Mayor’s Sunday.
Crowds lining the pavement would wait for the cry “Here’s Nobby” and he would appear at the front always dressed in a light suit with a straw boater and white pumps, much to the embarrassment of those following.
Nobby was described as “a saturation drinker” and in that state was always ready for a fight. For half a crown he would jump off Worcester Bridge. At one stage he did give up the booze and joined the Salvation Army, but fell foul of regulations by refusing to give up his pipe, so that was the end of a brief redemption.
However, there was one person Nobby Guy never crossed and that was the Rev J. Macrae, rector of All Saints. A formidable Scot, he stood 6ft 4ins tall, with broad shoulders and fists like iron.
He would often break up neighbourhood fights by dishing out black eyes to those concerned. The right man for a tough parish.
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