Mark's History 2

Mark's History 2 Leeds is steeped in history, boasting over eight centuries of memories.

Each street and building holds a story — waiting to be discovered by anyone willing to look a little closer.

1953 Hepworths Workers on Clay Pit Lane...
07/09/2026

1953 Hepworths Workers on Clay Pit Lane...

British Munition Factories Leeds World War One - c.1918
06/09/2026

British Munition Factories Leeds World War One - c.1918

05/09/2026
A Dead Woman's Letter and a Fatal Cab Ride…In September 1924, a deeply tragic sequence of events unfolded on the streets...
04/09/2026

A Dead Woman's Letter and a Fatal Cab Ride…

In September 1924, a deeply tragic sequence of events unfolded on the streets of Leeds, beginning in a room at the Great Northern Hotel and ending in the back of a taxi cab. The story centres on two fragile individuals: thirty-five-year-old Helen Mary Nind, a music teacher who resided at 56 Baker Street, Heavitree, Exeter, and Mr Hugh Gerald Evelyn White, M.A., a forty-five-year-old lecturer at Leeds University. Hugh was a distinguished Egyptologist who had worked near the tomb of Tutankhamen and spent over a decade with the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York. Though his home was believed to be in Cambridge, he lodged at 33 Victoria Terrace, Belle Vue Road, while in Leeds.
The tragedy began between 4:00 and 4:30 a.m. on a Sunday morning, when Peter Dillon, a night porter residing at 9 Servia Road, Leeds, heard unnatural, heavy breathing from one of the hotel rooms. With the help of another porter, Herbert Masterman, he entered to find Helen fully dressed on the bed, unconscious. She had checked in the evening before under the false name of Bryant. Police Constable Parfitt arrived to find her foaming at the mouth, and Dr Edwin Holmes later confirmed at the Leeds General Infirmary that she had swallowed a caustic poison, likely carbolic acid. She died on Monday morning.
Among her possessions was an unposted, heartbroken letter addressed to Hugh at his Victoria Terrace lodgings. In it, she wrote that life was too miserable to go on, distressed that she had missed him when she called at his home the previous week. Investigators also found a cold, unsigned letter-card from Hugh to Helen, warning that if she gave him any further trouble, he would report her su***de threats to the Exeter police.
Hugh, described by his landlady as a highly nervous, chain-smoking scholar whose room was filled with archaeological texts, had been subpoenaed to attend Helen's inquest. He never made it. At around twenty minutes to two, Hugh engaged a taxi driven by Tom Burrows of 22 Howden Terrace at the Quebec Street stand. Tom's wife, Mary Burrows, noted the well-dressed fare looked terribly pale and trembling. Hugh asked to be taken to 29 Park Square, the home of his physician since 1922, Dr Maxwell Telling.
Tom drove past the General Post Office and along Infirmary Street and St. Paul's Street. Just twenty yards from the doctor's door, Tom heard a dull report like a bursting tyre. Hugh had shot himself in the forehead with a revolver. Tom rushed to the door to fetch Dr Telling, who sat with his dying patient as they sped to the infirmary. Hugh died shortly afterwards.
The coroner, Mr W. H. Clarke, had to pause Helen's inquest when Inspector Pass left to investigate the shooting. Helen's sister, Ruth Mary Carlota Nind, a nurse stationed at Netley, testified she knew nothing of any young man in Leeds. Ultimately, the coroner concluded that a severe quarrel between these two highly strung people had driven both to take their own lives, recording a verdict of su***de whilst temporarily insane.

03/09/2026

A Step Back in Time: The Great Yorkshire Show at Leeds, 1902
Before it found a permanent home in Harrogate in 1951, the Great Yorkshire Show moved from town to town each summer. In July 1902, the show came to Leeds—and pioneering film company Mitchell & Kenyon was there with a hand-cranked camera to capture it all.
While agricultural shows were traditionally all about prize livestock and machinery, this surviving archive footage captures the Edwardian public simply enjoying an afternoon out in their Sunday best.
A few standout details caught on the reel:
* The Edwardian Hammock Test Drive: Two well-dressed ladies testing out a suspended canvas garden hammock—complete with striped cushions—while one casually flips through a booklet before smiling right at the lens.
* The "New Child's Swing": Trade stands were eager to catch the eye of parents. A gentleman in a bowler hat demonstrates a wooden lawn swing, proudly advertising a hand-painted price card: "NEW CHILD'S SWING • 12/-" (12 shillings—roughly £50–£60 in today’s money).
* The Fashion: The giant, elaborate hats and frilled dresses worn by the two young girls sitting for the camera steal the scene, practically dwarfing their tiny owners.
It’s an incredible, candid glimpse into Edwardian leisure right here in Leeds over 120 years ago.
(Footage preserved by the BFI National Archive / Mitchell & Kenyon Collection)

The hidden history in this Harehills photo…Take a look at this old photograph of Harehills Lane taken just before the Fi...
03/09/2026

The hidden history in this Harehills photo…

Take a look at this old photograph of Harehills Lane taken just before the First World War. If you peer closely at the left edge of the picture, you can spot a shop sign ending in the letters LTRY. It is highly likely this stood for poultry, and we might actually know exactly who was running the shop.
According to the 1911 census, a local man named Percy Ernest Bruerton was living right there at 266 Harehills Lane, working as a fruit, fish, and poultry dealer. He shared the home and business with his wife Milly, their daughter Lily Elizabeth, and his brother Harry.
Percy and Milly clearly grew attached to the neighbourhood. Decades later, the 1939 Register shows the couple were still living very close by at 46 Sandhurst Grove, just a stone's throw from the old lane.

The Tragic Secret of the Leeds Spitfire Ace…In 1901, Harold Freeborn, the son of a certificated schoolmaster, was living...
03/09/2026

The Tragic Secret of the Leeds Spitfire Ace…

In 1901, Harold Freeborn, the son of a certificated schoolmaster, was living at School Lane in Aberford. His future wife, Jean Connell, the daughter of a Scottish farmer, was living at Manor Farm in Middleton, which is now part of the Manor Farm Estate. By 1911, the newly married couple were living with Jean's father, Archibald, at Bleachground Farm in Middleton, while Harold worked as a bank clerk.

A comment on the Leodis website traces the history of this property. It notes that in 1788 the sixty-three-acre mixed dairy and crop farm was owned by William Barslow and leased by James Schofield. By 1841, it had a group of owners including William Rookes-Compton Stansfield, John Spedding, and John Austin. In 1875, a Mrs Pickup owned the farm, leasing it to George Reynolds until 1877. The comment also mentions that a Jean and Harold Dale were living there in 1920, though the farm was best known for being worked by the Simpson family. It is highly likely that Jean and Harold Dale were actually Jean and Harold Freeborn, making Bleachground Farm the possible birthplace of their son, John Connell Freeborn, on the 1st of December 1919.

By 1923, Jean and Harold had moved to 27 Broomfield Crescent in Headingley. Harold was now a bank manager working for The Yorkshire Penny Bank Limited at 58 Springfield View in Holbeck, which was about an hour's walk from his home. It was while living at Number 27 that young John, a bright but defiant lad walking the halls of Leeds Grammar School, set off to join the RAF in 1938. No one could have predicted the profound tragedy that would define his early manhood. He was a local boy who would soon carry the weight of a nation's defence, and a heartbreaking personal burden, on his shoulders.

John found his true calling in the skies. By the time war broke out in September 1939, he was stationed in the cockpit of a Spitfire, ready to defend his country. But his very first taste of combat ended in a devastating mistake that would haunt him until his dying day.

Just three days into the Second World War, a faulty radar system threw the squadrons into chaos. False reports of an incoming German attack sent pilots scrambling into the clouds. In the terrifying confusion of those early days, with poor communication and skies full of panic, John and his commander spotted what they firmly believed was the enemy. Under orders, John opened fire.

As the aircraft went down over the English countryside, the horrific truth emerged. He had not shot down a German bomber. He had fired on a fellow British Hurricane, killing Pilot Officer Montague Hulton-Harrop. It was the very first death of a British fighter pilot in the war, and John was the one who pulled the trigger.

The aftermath of what became known as the Battle of Barking Creek was a bitter betrayal. At a secret military trial, his own commander gave evidence against him, attempting to push the blame entirely onto the young Leeds pilot. Though the court completely cleared John, ruling it a tragic accident born of failed technology and chaos, the official pardon offered no comfort to his conscience.

He carried that crushing guilt back into the cockpit. He flew through the desperate evacuation of Dunkirk and survived the terrifying aerial clashes of the Battle of Britain. John flew more operational hours during that desperate summer than any other pilot, fighting relentlessly and earning the Distinguished Flying Cross twice for his immense bravery.

He survived the war and lived to the age of ninety, but the dark shadow of that September morning never left him. Even as an old man, he confessed that he thought about the young comrade he had accidentally killed almost every single day, mourning the long life he had unknowingly stolen away.

Sincere thanks to the residents of 27 Broomfield Crescent for kindly letting a random stranger into their garden to take the photograph of the Blue Plaque attached to No. 27 that accompanies this story, keeping John's memory alive.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/John_Freeborn #

02/09/2026

The 1949 Leeds Jeweller's Murder...
On 16 November 1949, a routine morning in Leeds city centre ended in tragedy at the Albion Watch Depot at 132 Albion Street.
Shop owner Abraham Harry Levine, 49, was working when two youths walked in armed with revolvers. Walter Sharpe, 20, and Gordon Lannen, 17, demanded cash, but Abraham bravely refused to back down.
Abraham valiantly grabbed the younger attacker by the collar. During the violent struggle, the jeweller was battered over the head with the butt of a gun and tragically shot twice. Panicking, the teenagers fled the shop completely empty-handed, firing wild shots into the air to scatter terrified bystanders as they ran.
Despite critical stomach wounds, Abraham staggered onto the pavement. He survived just long enough to give police a detailed description of his attackers before passing away the very next day.
The killers fled to Southport but were spotted by a sharp-eyed local detective. They eventually confessed, admitting they burned their raincoats and dumped their guns—a .38 C**t and a Webley—into a river.
At the trial at Leeds Assizes, the defence argued the guns went off accidentally during the scuffle. The jury didn't buy it, taking just 20 minutes to find both men guilty of murder.
Walter Sharpe was sentenced to death and hanged at Leeds on 30 March 1950. Because Gordon Lannen was only 17 at the time of the crime, he avoided capital punishment.
Did you know about this dark piece of local history? Let me know your thoughts in the comments! 👇

This is on King Charles Street in town. What is it for???
01/09/2026

This is on King Charles Street in town. What is it for???

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