By
Rob
I
lived for a series of years,
Not
far from the toll of the bell,
My
house they pull'd over my ears,
And
I was consign'd to my cell.
Before my remains were dissolved,
The
Black Resurrection took place,
My
troubles upon me resolved,
Much
to the Old Serpent's disgrace.
- Joseph Mather,
'The Black Resurrection'
Joseph
Mather, an eighteenth-century Sheffield songster, wrote the above
verse in disgust at the behaviour of a certain 'Old Serpent' – the
Reverend James Wilkinson.
In 1785, the local authorities decided to widen Church Lane. With the permission of Reverend Wilkinson, they took a portion of the churchyard from the local Sheffield Parish Church (now the Cathedral) and removed a number of bodies that had been buried there; hence the title of Mather's song – The Black Resurrection.
Mather
was not alone in his anger at Mr Wilkinson, the wealthy and
influential Vicar of Sheffield who, in his additional role as Justice
of the Peace, is known to have imprisoned his detractors and whose
monument was the first commissioned work by Sir Francis Chantrey.[1]
Mr Wilkinson was seen as having behaved outrageously by allowing the remains of local parishioners to be exhumed. However, a rhyming testimony by James Wills at the turn of the century, that calls Church Lane a "dark and dreary street" that "might justly be styled the robber's retreat" suggests that Mr Wilkinson was right to allow the work to go ahead.[2] Either way, this turbulent event led to the creation of the area around the Cathedral that we know today.
 |
| Reverend James Wilkinson (picture from Art UK) |
Andy,
on the other hand, was well aware of the pub’s existence. At the
age of fifteen, while on work experience at a nearby bank, he had
popped in there during his lunch hour with a few of his older, adult
colleagues. They told the bar staff that Andy was, in fact, seventeen
years old and – as this was somehow seen to be marginally less
illegal than if he had been fifteen – the staff graciously agreed
to turn a blind eye to his drinking.
But
before South Yorkshire Police break down the doors, I should point
out that the pub has changed hands a few times since then. You see,
before it was The Church House it was Sanctuary Bar, and before that it
was The Priory pub, and a long time before that it was the Church of
England Educational Institute. The street it stands on has also seen
its name change more than a few times, finally being renamed as St
James' Street in honour of the nearby church of St James, which was
destroyed in the Blitz.
In
short, this small section of the city has been relentlessly
reconfigured, revamped and renamed over the centuries and it stands
as testament to the rich cultural fabric of Sheffield. And, talking
of the rich cultural fabric of Sheffield...
...We walked into The Church House and got exactly what we'd expected; a really nice stone-built pub that – despite serving beer and bar snacks – managed to keep hold of its Victorian dignity. The clientele was inevitably made up of those middle-aged posh people that inexplicably seem to always have free time on their hands, and some German tourists.
We
ordered ourselves a pint of Theakston Lightfoot. A pale ale that's
perfect in the summer that, with a refreshing fruity flavour, went
down nicely.
..............................................................................................
Fun
fact: The beer gets its name from the Lightfoot brewery, which
was taken over by Theakston in 1919. The amalgamation made a lot of
sense, as the two brewing families were very close and linked through
marriage. Alternatively, there's an old rumour that the real
motivation behind Theakston's acquisition lay in the fact that
Lightfoot had the better cricket team...[3]
..............................................................................................
 |
| Before & After (The picture on the left is from picturesheffield.com where it is available to buy as a print) |
Sipping our ale we found that we very much liked The Church House. It had a good range of beers on tap, the atmosphere was pleasant, the building was impressive, and the pub was in a great location. All was as it should be, until I got up and wandered over to the gents and saw something that you don't often see in a modern British public house.
Laid
out on a small empty stage, right next to the toilets, there
was a coffin. Why it was there remains a mystery to this day (because
we didn't bother to ask the bar staff). I can only imagine that the
sight of a coffin in a pub would have enraged Joseph Mather beyond
all reason if he had been there with us...
...Inside The Church House it lay,
Unearthed and disturbed from its rest,
But I managed to drink up and pay,
Knowing we still had to finish Pubquest.
Unearthed and disturbed from its rest,
But I managed to drink up and pay,
Knowing we still had to finish Pubquest.
Pub: The Church House (4 St James' St, S1 2EW)
Rating:
8/10
Beer:
Lightfoot Bitter
Brewery:
Theakston Brewery (Masham,
North Yorkshire)
NEXT UP: Stunning architecture, at the Three Tuns...
NEXT UP: Stunning architecture, at the Three Tuns...
[2]
Joseph Mather, 'The Black Resurrection', in John Wilsin, The
Songs of Joseph Mather, Pawson and Brailsford, Sheffield,
(1862), p.43
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