The Stock Exchange Hotel is arguably the most luxurious in Manchester, but as the name suggests, it was once a thriving market where shares were bought and sold.
Bull & Bear restaurant from Michelin-starred chef Tom Kerridge is now housed in the former trading floor, transforming it into an 87-cover dining room beneath a grand domed ceiling.
The grade II-listed building was bought by Manchester United icons Gary Neville and Ryan Giggs in 2013, who have managed to retain its exquisite Edwardian Baroque architecture.
It was built in 1906 as a symbol of confidence in the future of a growing Manchester, which at the time was the 9th most populous city in the world, and this December celebrated 115 years since opening its doors.
Here, the Manchester Evening News speaks with former stockbroker, Jon Goldstone, who until recently was the last person still in the profession to have worked on the trading floor of the Manchester Stock Exchange, which closed in 1979, for a glimpse into its lost world.
Pranking one of the dealers and playing cricket using the janitor’s shovel as a bat, before phones would be ringing off the hook - this was all part of a hard day’s work at the Stock Exchange.
Jon, from Didsbury, 74, who started as a blue button - a dealer who can’t deal and can only ask for prices - in 1969 at the age of 22, says it was sometimes like a ‘rugby club’, where people worked hard yet played hard.
His position came about after he visited his uncle in London, who had floated a company on the stock market and suggested he got into the industry.
He had a word with his broker to see if anyone in Manchester was looking for a ‘likely lad’, and as it happened, a firm that was about to put a job advert in the Manchester Evening News gave him an interview.
Saving themselves £2 on the advert, they then hired Jon, taking him on for £1,000 per year.
“It was a hard school, going onto the market,” the father-of-two sons said, who retired from stockbrokers Redmayne Bentley last year.
“It was feast or famine, sometimes it was so quiet you might get three calls a day, and all you’d do is play football on the trading floor with a ball made of rolled-up paper and elastic bands, or cricket with the janitor’s shovel.
“They used to have these ashtrays where you pressed the lever and it fell into the bottom, and we used that as the wicket.
“Then suddenly, you’d get a boom, for one reason or another, then there literally weren’t enough hours in the day, it went on and on.”
There were a set of rules to abide by on the trading floor, and on occasions, these were broken, which came with consequences.
Smoking was forbidden until 12pm, so dealers were torn between the desire to smoke and the desire to speak with clients.
“I once lit a cigarette and put it under the desk before 12pm, the smoke rose up and somebody caught me; I got an earwigging for that,” said John, who rose up the ranks to become an authorised dealer in 1974.
There was also a dress code, of a suit and tie, and despite bold 70s fashion, colourful shirts were frowned upon.
One young dealer who pushed the boundaries with his choice of outfit ended up being stuck on the ceiling, Jon says.
“He walked in with tan coloured alligator skin shoes, and some of the other dealers looked at them and thought, ‘we’ll have these.’
“They grabbed hold of him, took his shoes off, and threw them up on the ledge.
“He had to get the janitor's ladder and climb up to get his shoes back. But as soon as he was up, they took the ladder away and left him.
“Eventually they gave it back and he got down.”
Jon added: “It was like a rugby club sometimes. These people worked really hard when they had to, but they played hard as well. Things like that just happened. Nobody got hurt.”
He recalls another moment where a dealer was suspended for a week after setting a copy of the Financial Times alight - one that another dealer was in the middle of reading.
Whilst admitting it was at times a bit like school, Jon reiterates that when there were seriously large deals happening, the workers knew not to mess about.
“The Stock Exchange motto was Dictum Meum Pactum, my word is my bond,” he explained.
“Deals always stood, you couldn’t go back on it. It was all done through word of mouth.
“Although they were setting fire to newspapers, they were also incredibly skilled lads, and honourable.”
There was also a clear hierarchy across the floor, where members, of which Jon became one in 1983 after it closed, had their own break room and their own toilets, with those in the lower rankings not allowed to enter.
Where the Hotel’s toilets are today in the main lobby is where the member’s toilets were situated, and where the restaurant’s bar is now is where the member’s room once stood, complete with cosy chairs and a coffee machine.
“Once I sneaked into the members loo for a quick wee and got caught,” Jon said.
“You had to be respectful to members”.
There was a sense of community in the exchange, where Jon says he met all sorts of different people, including some wise ‘old boys’ in their 70s, who had most likely joined during the war.
When the market floor closed in 1979, it was a “huge blow”.
“We left the market on Friday at 3.30pm, then you’d go back to the office and carry on dealing from there," Jon continued.
“The market would then open at 9.30am, so you’d go in about 9.15am and start asking for prices, so we walked on, and there was nobody there.
“It was very, very sad. It was a shock.
“All the people I saw every day, I stopped seeing them. We all went back to the office. But the community spirit we had just disappeared.”
Stock exchanges like Manchester's, which opened in 1907, allowed the businesses of an industrial city to raise money from investors locally. But a local tradition that dated back to first half of the 19th century was doomed by the consolidation of finance in the capital.
In honour of Jon’s 52-year career in finance, the Manchester hoteliers last month named one of their signature suites after him - the ‘Goldstone Suite’.
He jokingly says that as a City supporter he was sceptical of owner Gary, but, after seeing his pundit work and getting to know him, Jon believes Mr Neville is a “credit” to Manchester.
“My years working within the building are very special to me so I am truly honoured by the gesture,” he said.
“I think Gary is amazing. He has a social conscience, allowed NHS workers to use the hotel during lockdown, and has ensured the features of the old building are kept.”
Due to a lung condition, Jon has had to isolate amid the pandemic, and is yet to stay in his new suite, but before lockdown enjoyed a meal at Bull & Bear.
“It was quite strange really, the external features are still there, pillars and arches,” he said.
“I looked to my left and thought, 'that is where my pitch was', and I think there were three girls sitting there having a meal.
“It’s nice to see it’s been so tastefully preserved.”
Jon added: “I’m looking forward to seeing my suite. I’m absolutely determined to visit.”
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