Bombing aftermath

Have just been reading in 'Coventry's Heritage' by Levi Fox about the Market Hall clock, installed in 1870 and made by Edward Loseby. The book states that when the Market Hall was destroyed on the night of the Blitz, the clock itself survived and 'can be used again when the city centre is rebuilt'. Does anyone know whether this was the case and where the clock is now please?

Isn't the clock mechanism now inside the Godiva clock? I believe it was demolished as it was not safe.

The clock and bell are mentioned here as being in the clock tower of Broadgate House. As usual there is no date on this so I don't know if the information is up to date Listing of Broadgate House

Thanks for that Anne. I didn't know that the bell near the Peeping Tom clock was from the old Market Hall - that's interesting.

The working mechanism of the Market Hall clock was definitely installed in what was then the Hertford St bridge building as the Godiva & Peeping Tom puppet clock. The bell also was original and these facts were much publicised at the time, in the 1950s. Loseby, the clock-maker, had to pay a fee if the clock was more than a minute inaccurate when installed as the Market Hall clock. The clock tower survived the blitz but was later demolished as nothing more of the Market Hall survived.

Can anyone assist me please? After the November raid how were the deaths of so many people formally recorded? We are all familiar with the need to register births, deaths, and marriages with the local Registrar, but how did Coventry cope with the sudden need to register and record hundreds of deaths at a time when the Registrar's office may have been damaged or destroyed, and the Registrar's staff either killed, injured, or unable to get to work. Were extra staff brought in from other places? Were registrations made at places outside Coventry, or in temporary premises within the city? The reason I ask is because of a couple of anomalies which have come up in some recent research I have been doing. Hopefully I will soon be able to add to a sad story in another thread. Thanks. Roger

Just apropos of nothing, But my Grandfather kept a shard of glass that he said was from the Old Market Hall Clock, He said it had blown out in a gale - it was very thick and I suppose roughly triangular, I think it was probably from the clock that was installed in 1870. Why he kept it - I don`t know, but he was a watchmaker and perhaps it was just because he was "in the trade" He certainly was, because the girl he married worked at Rotherhams. After he died I used to visit her and she had a Grandfather clock at the head of the stairs, it didn`t go, When she was asked why, she just used to say "Oh the Pevits have gone" - no idea what she meant, but she seemed to know a lot about clocks

Ironic to see updates in this thread as I've just seen this one for the first time. Really hits home how appalling this all was and the effects on all those poor Coventrians walking around in complete shock at the devastation all around.

NeilsYard, Yes that morning we stood and stared at the ruins, but during the night we listened to the drone of their engines that went on and on, but no whine of them falling from the sky, no tangling in the wires of the barrage balloons, no nothing, Only daylight stopped the raid - so what everyone dreaded was darkness falling, the ruined city we didn't have to think about, it registered automatically but I think uppermost in our minds' thoughts were, they would be back, as soon as darkness fell . . .

Apologies if this has been posted before . . . St Patricks Road

No need to apologise for showing that image, Neil - quite a classic view of Coventry's residential bomb damage - and as those houses which were not repaired and reconstructed were not demolished for many years afterwards it's a scene I knew very well, living not too far from there

That's one heck of a picture Neil, never seen that one before. Looking at it now does 'hit home' a bit.

I keep reading about Coventry people shocked at the damaged buildings the morning after the blitz, makes me wonder just how many reporters were in Coventry the night of the blitz. Well, most people I knew were amazed next morning that the casualties were a lot lower than we expected, as bad as it was at the time. Coventry had suffered little for the first year of the war so were a little lax about what could happen although prepared as we thought. It started about dusk, I believe the guns and the sirens about the same time. Before long even the sceptics ran for the shelters, the noise was deafening and frightening - odd times the guns stopped, the drone of the planes could be heard. We looked out and saw the glow in the sky, that got larger as the hours went by - you just couldn't believe it could go on so long, hour after hour. Soon we heard the centre of the city was one inferno, Owen Owen had gone, the cathedral was ablaze and the bombs were still falling and there was not a hiccup in the let up. Where was our defence? Why didn't someone stop them? The sky was now a molten red, the Home Guard, ARP and fire service were exhausted, but still the noise and bombs kept on, and more reports filtered through - there was nothing left of the centre of the city. Some ARP warden said the whole of Trinity Street had gone, this street and that street were flattened. We all had relatives in the city, we clung together more, but it just went on and on. The big gun by us stopped, some warden or HG shouted the barrel had to cool down, but it was soon barking away again. But when dawn came and the noise abated, we shook ourselves to see if it was real, had finally stopped. I think that's when the tears finally came so we emerged from the shelter - now was the shock if you could really call it that, the noise had stopped but the fires were still burning. We were pleased to see our friends in the street, but to me, people quickly recovered wanting to know how relatives were. Men were going into town, first to find out what was left of the city, about relatives, what help they could offer, if they had a job to go to - and it was Friday and most people needed their wages, would there be any? BUT what was uppermost in people's minds - would they come back when it got dark?? I can't stress that enough. The people that had survived dreaded another night like that. One small factory owner told his workers if they came back later in the day he would give them 2-3 quid out of his pocket to tide them over until they got the situation straight. That day men started to tidy up the factories, shops, etc. I believe a tea-hut was set up in Broadgate that very Friday morning. No I don't think Coventry people were dazed, shocked, next morning - they had had twelve tortuous hours for that, and casualties and buildings weren't as high as expected as most people thought through the night, but daylight I saw as a wonderful thing. I had thirteen uncles and aunts living and working in the city, all but one of those uncles and aunts survived the the blitz, so I had good account of what people thought and did that 'Godforsaken' night.

Kaga, your wonderful recollections never fail to amaze and educate me, thank you. Nobody else in recent years has ever given us eager readers such an authentic insight into the event that shaped Coventry more than any other in the past century. And with each new generation, there will probably be a continuous stream of young people who will still be fascinated by such events. As sad as war is, it seems to create some kind of excitement that engenders an interest in youngsters, whether it be the terrifying bombing campaigns, the movement of great armies or the heroism of Spitfire pilots and the like. Regarding your musings on the reporters who might've been in Coventry on the night of the blitz - that's something I'd not thought about before. I've read that there were official government "observers" in the next day, but as for journalists - I wonder if they all flooded in the next morning, or might some already have been in town to see it unfold first-hand? And a question that perhaps you can help with Kaga - with the chaos that you all awoke to after the all clear in the morning, how soon was it before word got around to indicate that the casualties were relatively low?