OLD Simnel Street, Southampton, was one of the most picturesque, dilapidated and ancient streets in the town of yesteryear.

At one time the thoroughfare, which once ran from the former Western Shore to West Street, was just a narrow lane.

At its junction with West Street it was only 5ft 8in wide, and near the Western Shore end the ancient houses were, at one time, prevented from collapsing on the homes opposite by improvised wooden beams, which spanned the way just above the heads of the passers-by below.

There were also various courts and alleys leading off the street.

The name of Simnel Street is usually supposed to have something to do with the manufacture of Simnel cakes.

It may, however, have come from the old French word “simenel” meaning “fine flour”, which gave the name to the cakes, because in the Middle Ages there was a windmill close by.

According to the records of the time the “ordinary citizen” seldom went down it, and never, if he could help it, after dark.

For it consisted largely of common lodging houses, whose occupants included some of the poorest and most notorious men and women in the town.

Many of the Simnel Street houses dated from Elizabethan times; some belonged to an even earlier period, and in the foundations there were treasures of medieval masonry.

The oldest houses were incredibly dark, with their great beams of centuries- old oak and chestnut.

A landlord of a pub in West Street purchased 80 tons of this woodwork when the old street was demolished in the 1890s to make room for a housing scheme.

Behind the plaster walls and ceilings there were often portions, not only of tree trunks, but of branches, with their smaller branches and twigs, interlaced and strengthened to support the plaster.

A particularly interesting building which was included in the Simnel Street demolitions was one of the oldest dwelling-houses in the town.

It stood at the corner of West Street and Simnel Street and was estimated to be, at the very least, 300 years old.

It contained many massive oak beams and the kitchen was said to be a fine spacious room with a great fireplace with some pictorial Dutch toling, dating back probably to the reign of William and Mary.

During the latter part of its existence this house became a tallow candle factory.

It certainly was as early as 1795. At the time of its demolition the factory was owned by a Miss Potts and with its disappearance vanished the last tallow candle factory in Southampton.

There were those in the neighbourhood who were happy to see the candle factory close.

In the course of manufacture a terrible smell was created which pervaded the whole neighbourhood.

Miss Potts was an elderly lady, quite a character in her way, but much liked locally, and noted for deeds of unostentatious charity.

The archives say she was of “middle height, upright in her carriage with beautiful white hair, brushed very smooth and parted carefully in the middle.”

Her description says she was very pleasant in her manner, although her expression was rather severe.