The market runs along both sides of the High Street and since early times shops have begun encroaching upon market precinct. Thus you virtually collide with the stalls as you make your way out of Tesco. Still, there is none of that notorious carping you get in London on radio or at some of the street markets which aren’t doing too well.
Whilst the supermarkets attract because of parking facilities and credit card acceptance as a means of paying, the traders will always have an edge because they mean to sell out and sell out they do, even if it means taking a loss.
The shops only deplete their produce at the end of the day, and often it is sent over to some homeless refuge or shelter thus depriving the customer of a few perks.
Not so with the trader. He’ll sell pounds of fruit or veg for a pittance if he has to, and he’ll sell it to you, the customer.
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The 1553 St Albans market still functions in the same vicinity within the area known as ‘Market Place’. This precinct was laid out as a large triangular space about 860AD, with enlargement mid 12th century. By 1287 market days were regular on Saturday and Wednesday.
The Clock Tower was built in 1403-1412 and stands in a central position now as then. It is one of the few things to have any real continuity. Because the market nowadays is a jumble of goods, many of which are factory-produced.
In the Middle Ages for instance there were separate shambles for flesh, fish, leather and pudding; corn or wheat; hay, wool and malt. The only link with the old malt market is the new shopping centre (with library) somewhat ironically named ‘The Maltings’.
Market day used to be a joyous event – St Albans hosted a cattle auction until the 1970s. On a sale day the pubs were overflowing with customers. The Snug on French Row used to get the punters, but no more as it`s become more of a wine bar now.
I opted for a cider at the Boot at Market Place: a circa 1500 building recorded as a licenced house in 1719. For awhile (late 1890s) the southern part was occupied by a tobacconist and a barbers shop. The town used to produce its own cider and beer but this refreshment came courtesy via a brewery in Suffolk.
It was a cold winter`s day. Frost and snow were everywhere. Thus the roaring fire and sawdust on the floor (if only to prevent slipping) created the atmosphere of a genuine coaching inn.
Two dogs rolled around in sawdust as I drank my cider in the public bar. The house used to have a saloon bar and a private bar as well as the public bar and dining room. But nowadays with PC all the rooms are non-denominated, merely places to sit and to have a quiet drink.
I have rarely found an English pub to exhibit any of the mean, on-the-prowl ambience of an American bar. Thus having ordered a drink, I struck up a chat with Ted, a local, who remembered the old days of the market and the hatter who sold handmade Trilbys, boaters, straws and caps.
It was Ted who sent me round to Ye Old Fighting Cocks on Abbey Mill Lane (in the snow, mind): one of the oldest pubs in England.
Ye Old Fighting Cocks still has the old cockpit, but, alas, it`s now covered up and provides another cosy corner to have a quiet drink. Origins date back to 793AD and the tunnels, linking the Cathedral (old Abbey) with the pub`s beer cellars putatively were used by the monks (possibly to imbibe on the sly) An original bread-oven is extant next to one of the fireplaces.
Back to the market... whilst most of the stuff is discounted factory merchandise- some very nice too (merino wool blankets for £40) the market is becoming a bit too trendy.
There’s a cheesemonger, a retired microbiologist yet, who sells Old Sussex (Cheddar) and Old Winchester (Parmesan) for Borough market prices. It diminishes the old market ethos of: give us a bargain, guv.
I recall with nostalgia the auction of my own produce man at the Church Street market in Lisson Grove (which Westminster Council is allowing to dilapidate. Give them a car park, for heaven`s sake!) who sells boxes of processed as well as fresh cheese for whatever he can get.
The best stalls were haberdashers, as they assisted in the traditional art of DIY. One stall sold feathers, pile, wadding and foam whilst another purveyed Velcro and ribbon for curtain tabs. To be fair, I haven’t found much of this stuff at market stalls in London. In London it’s John Lewis or nothing.
It was Charles II`s charter that recognized the right of St Albans to ‘hold markets and fairs’ and to ‘erect shambles and stalls and there buy, sell... corn, grain, cattle, horses…’
What is unique about the St Albans market, one of the largest in England`s southeast, is the illusion of viewing it in situ, since many of the medieval, 17th and 18th century houses and shops remain and are unaltered. Some hail from an even earlier period.
Whilst the Clock Tower (which you can mount in Spring/Summer) no longer has the Saddler’s, its use remains unchanged. Not so with the Corn Exchange, Moot Hall and Old Carnegie Library. They are listed buildings but one has become a news agent and another a pub. Still, the interiors are the same. Thus when you enter W H Smith or O’Neills, you’ll experience a weird sense of deja vu.
Charles Dickens would love it!
Sandra Shevey runs a markets walk around London and the countryside. Contact her at [email protected]
She has also produced a documentary about four ancient London markets (Smithfield, Spitalfield, Covent Garden and Borough)