FOR many years in the late 19th century Bradford was referred to as ‘Irish Town’ - such were the number of Irish immigrants who flocked to the city during that time, far exceeding the number who arrived in other major West Yorkshire centres of trade and manufacturing.
But immigration from the Emerald Isle preceded the industrial revolution. Many farm workers (or ‘scalpeens’ as they were somewhat disparagingly referred to - the word can also mean ‘rascal’!) had for generations been crossing the Irish Sea to help to bring in the harvest across West Yorkshire.
This migration continued apace into the 20th century. When World War two came to an end, the devastation to the built environment caused by Hitler’s bombs was all too apparent and this initiated a grand overhaul of Britain’s transport networks, power supply and housing stock. The decades following the 1940s witnessed a massive population flow from Ireland to the UK as men from the predominantly West of Ireland responded to the call for labour, and many followed their earlier compatriots to Bradford.
It was not an easy transition for these mostly rural folk attempting to find a new life in urban, industrialised Bradford, and many Irishmen and women faced hostility from locals who, because of their Catholic faith and the migrant tendency to stick to established communities, were often viewed as outsiders. The major hubs for social engagement for these Irish migrants were typically the church and the pub. Bradford had been very much a Methodist city, so the likelihood of the Irish immigrants and the local communities finding common ground within their respective religious institutions was low. The pub, however, was a different matter. As William Blake observed: ‘a good local pub has much in common with a church, except that a pub is warmer, and there’s more conversation’.
Historically, Bradford has had its fair share of specifically, if not exclusively, Irish public houses, and some of these remain with us to this day: The Lord Clyde, The Rose and Crown and The Harp of Erin. The locations of these pubs unsurprisingly correspond to those areas where, historically, communities of Irish migrants were most likely to be found: Goitside, White Abbey and Longlands.
The Harp of Erin is perhaps the most distinguished amongst these for its connections with ‘Irish Town’. The Harp, as it is affectionately known, has been in situ in what was known as the ‘Longlands’ district of Bradford since around 1868, the result of the conversion of two prior ale houses, The Rawson and later The Full Measure, which themselves resulted from the combination of two cottages built on land owned by one William Middleton, landlord of the nearby Pack Horse Inn. The Harp as we know it today is the creation of Patrick Henry, an Irish native, who renamed the pub in 1882.
Harp of Erin image: Dr Paul Jennings
St Patrick’s Day celebrations remained largely the preserve of the Irish community consistent with the segregation of Irish and local populations. However, with the waves of immigration in the 1950s and 1960s, things began to change, slowly but inevitably. Pubs such as The Harp came to develop two client bases, locals and the Irish, who would occupy their respective areas of the pub with little to no acrimony, each group respecting the other’s space and coming together at the bar. As the decades progressed into the 1960s and 1970s even such artificial, unhelpful territorial distinctions withered away. Of course, there were many factors at play which account for this but the shared space of the pub where men and women of different cultural stripes had the opportunity to interact in a relaxed, convivial environment had a significant part to play.
Celebrations of St Patrick’s Day were subdued in the city in the decades following The Troubles and it wasn’t until the 1990s when the government of the Republic of Ireland began a campaign to use St Patrick’s Day to showcase the country and its culture that the celebration of the feast day really took off, in the UK and internationally. The campaign succeeded in re-defining the popular perception of ‘Irishness’ as one that is welcoming, open and full of fun, or should I say, the craic. St Patrick’s Day parades now take place in countries as disparate as Mexico, Norway and Japan. The joy of the day has even reached outer space: astronau
Returning to earth, some of the best St Patrick’s Day events this writer has experienced were in the 1990s in Maguires on City Road, but then of course, he’s biased. I’m sure every reader has memories of their own favourite venue where the Guinness was cold, the music was loud and the craic was mighty!
And this mood of celebration continues. It’s unusual to see a pub in Bradford that disregards St Patrick’s Day; at the very least it makes commercial sense to participate in the craic, and there are still pubs that go the extra mile to ensure that the day is celebrated in style. Bars such as The Dubliner and The Ginger Goose will be inundated with the sound of the fiddle and the bodhran and the laughter of Bradford men and women having a thoroughly good time. Though the religious significance of the feast day may have been lost in many quarters, the ability of St Patrick’s Day to bring people together is undiminished. La Fheile padraig sona duit!
* Sean Maguire’s book, The Long Distance Men, about itinerant Irish workers, is available on Amazon.
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