Anyone who is a resident of Bath will have perambulated these walkways many times, but how many of them understand the significance of the carved inscriptions of SMP, WP or SPPP on the building walls? Andrew Swift unravels the mystery.
It’s remarkable how a few letters carved on a wall can open a doorway into a lost world. Take those enigmatic inscriptions such as SMP, WP or SPPP which can be found chiselled into various buildings around Bath. They mark the boundaries of three of the city’s parishes – St Michael’s, Walcot and St Peter & St Paul (otherwise known as the Abbey) – and date back to the days when parishes were important administrative units. Householders in each parish paid rates for such things as cleaning and lighting the streets, enforcing law and order, and providing poor relief, so it was essential to know where the boundaries lay. In rural areas, boundary stones were erected at key points, while in cities wall markers served a similar function. Each parish then organised an annual perambulation of its boundaries, accompanied by ‘beating of the bounds’, so that everyone knew knew precisely where they ran.
Municipal reforms in the 1830s saw parishes stripped of most of their civic responsibilities. They were relieved of the rest of them by the Local Government Act of 1894, but by then accurate maps had long rendered perambulations and boundary markers obsolete. In Bath, though, markers survive as part of the city’s historic streetscape. As for perambulations, although they died out as an annual ritual before the end of the 18th century, old habits died hard in Bath, as elsewhere, and there were sporadic attempts to revive them.
Perambulations of the boundaries of Bathwick parish were made in 1832, 1850 and 1869; of Lyncombe & Widcombe in 1817, 1844 and 1865; and of Walcot in 1816, 1828, 1848 and 1863. These were occasions that lived long in the memory, and were more like carnivals than reverential processions, with bands and banners, the firing of cannon, and free food and drink for all. As the boundaries of each of the city’s parishes either followed or crossed the Avon, they also generally included a trip on a gaily bedecked barge.
In 1817, this led to tragedy, when a perambulation of the Abbey parish, along with that of St James, which adjoined it to the south, arrived at the Dolemeads, where a boat was waiting to carry the crowds across to South Parade. They were in such high spirits that far too many tried to scramble on board, and the boat capsized. Thirty people were thrown into the river, and six drowned. Not surprisingly, this was last perambulation of the Abbey parish.
Elsewhere, ever more elaborate perambulations continued, with some hair-raising exploits. On the perambulation of Walcot in 1863, three men were appointed to stick to the boundary no matter what, leaving the rest to seek less ambitious alternatives when obstacles were encountered. This not only saw them scrambling through hedges and walking along walls, but also climbing over the roof of a house on the Paragon – four storeys at the front but six at the back – although how they achieved this is not recorded.
One parish that does not seem to have staged one of these mass 19th-century perambulations is St Michael’s. The survival of most of its boundary markers, however, means that it is a fairly straightforward proposition to rectify this omission and undertake a modern day circuit of the parish. No scrambling over buildings is required, no boats need to be chartered, and – rather more disappointingly – food and drink are not provided, although there are plenty of opportunities to obtain refreshments en route.
The starting point is, naturally, St Michael’s church – or to give it its full name, St Michael’s without the Walls. From here, a short walk along Northgate Street leads to the first boundary marker – St.M.P. – on the left, above New Saville Row barber’s. This is where the North Gate crossed the street, and once through it you were in the parish of St Peter & St Paul.
A right turn along along Upper Borough Walls leads to the next marker – S.P.P.P. – on the wall of Stone King on the right. A few metres further on, between Brad Abrahams and Cascara is another set of markers – S’.M.P.║S’.P.P.
Although this may suggest you are crossing back into St Michael’s parish, it is less straightforward than that. As its name suggests, Upper Borough Walls follows the line of the walkway within the city walls. When the walls – which the parish boundary followed – were demolished, buildings arose in their place, with their front walls built on the foundations. This meant that, while the street was in the Abbey parish, the buildings on the north side were in St Michael’s parish. This doubtless caused no end of confusion, hence the need for two sets of markers.
Further sets appear further along – on the east and west corners of Trim Bridge, and at the end of Upper Borough Walls, where a right turn leads us back into St Michael’s parish. Take the next right along Trim Street and turn left under St John’s Arch. The next set of markers – over the entrance to the Gin Bar – indicates that you are now entering Walcot parish – WP – or, as the marker opposite, over the door of No 10a, has it, WTP.
At the end of Queen Street, turn right along Quiet Street. Above the entrance to the Dressing Room (No 7) on the right, another WTP marker indicates you are crossing from Walcot back into St Michael’s. Turn left up Milsom Street and right at the top along George Street. Here, the boundary between St Michael’s and Walcot runs along the centre of the road, and continues along Bladud Buildings and The Paragon.
When you come to 27 The Paragon, look up to see a set of markers indicating that this is where the boundary between the two parishes turns east. It was here that the fearless Walcotians of 1863 clambered over the roof to follow it. An easier alternative is to carry on past Walcot Church before doubling back along Walcot Street to the Bell, where a small St M P marker, painted white, heralds your return to St Michael’s.
From here, the boundary runs along the middle of the street for 60 metres, before turning east, where a final marker can be found at ground level on the former Penitentiary. When it reaches the river, the boundary turns to follow it south for the last quarter of a mile, but, as no boat is available, you will have to make do with heading back along Walcot Street to St Michael’s.
Andrew Swift has written books such as On Foot in Bath: Fifteen Walks around a World Heritage City (akemanpress.com).