If you’ve read any of my books, you’ll have come across the courts and yards that ran off Briggate. There were dozens of them; this 1847 map of Lower Briggate gives an indication.

Development over the years has done away with most of them, and in many cases, that’s no bad thing. They were cramped, awkward spaces, originally intended for workshops, counting houses and warehouses when Briggate was first laid out in 1208.

But times and needs changed. Leeds began to grow rich off just as the fields that had sustained small farmers were enclosed by landlords who could graze sheep and make more money from their estates. People arrived in town hoping for streets paved with gold, and that trickle became a torrent with the Industrial Revolution.

They all needed somewhere to live. The first back-to-back houses appeared around the start of the 19th century. But long before that, these courts and yards of Leeds had become places for people to live. For artisans and labourers, they offered a home. For the prostitutes, the bottleneck openings were a place to stand and ply their trade.

Some led to inns and taverns. But even so, along the yard you’d find small businesses with their offices and many living in rooms.

They became an inimitable part of Leeds, an accidental growth that came to typify Leeds. They were just off Briggate; plenty ran of Kirkgate and the Upper and Lowerhead Row. Each had its character, its citizens, its grievances and joys.

Few remain now, and those are home to bars and clubs. A handful from what was once part of everyday life. Given the way Leeds has carelessly laid waste to much of its past, I’m grateful these remain.

Take a look at a few. My characters have walked down most of these. Simon Westow, Jane and Sally have. Did I mention they’ll be doing it for one last time in October, when A Rage Of Souls is published. Come along and walk with them. Don’t forget a stroll down Green Dragon Yard, too. Pre-order it right here.