On the Night of the Fire

Above can be found the link to very first feature film to be set in Newcastle-upon-Tyne. On the Night of the Fire was shot on and around the Quayside in 1939, and released in 1940. It is notable, too, as being an early example of British film noir.

I shall leave you to see if you can identify any of the locations shown in the movie. To be honest, though, it is difficult to pick out more than a handful - and many of the scenes would have been shot in studios. The bridges/Quayside shots are obvious, and look out especially for a scene filmed below Ouseburn Viaduct. Geordie accents are, however, noticeably thin on the ground!

Perhaps surprisingly, the film's star, Ralph Richardson, did actually have some links to the city. He was a direct descendant of the famous Quaker Richardsons who ran the Elswick Leather Works; and his uncle, the well-known mathematician, Lewis Fry Richardson, was born in Newcastle in 1881. The most famous Richardson of them all, shipbuilder John Wigham Richardson, was also a distant cousin of Sir Ralph's.

For those of you who wish to learn more then you can find a few pages dedicated to the film in Chris Phipps' excellent book on Newcastle's role in TV and film entitled Forget Carter, which is widely available online.

Zeppelin Raid on Monkwearmouth, 1916

In an effort to tempt you into buying my latest book, The Great North-East: An English History Tour, vol.3, here's an extract from the same. It concerns a night of terror for the good folk of Sunderland during World War I...

---o---

Despite the presence of gun batteries and watchtowers along the North-East coast, the German zeppelins still got through during the Great War of 1914-18. Though one airship was dramatically brought down off Hartlepool in November 1916, a few enemy raids did do some damage along the coast and a little way inland.

The three raids on Hartlepool are infamous, of course, but we have an actual German account of another attack on Tyneside and Wearside on the night of Saturday 1st April 1916, with, perhaps most notably, Monkwearmouth Railway Station losing its roof as a result! 

The raid essentially began with a sweep over Tyneside. It was supposed to be heading for central or southern England, in fact, but weather conditions sent Viktor Schutze and his crew drifting over the North-East. The German chief didn’t fancy dropping his bombs across Tyneside as its defences had recently been strengthened, and, besides, the airship was too low and therefore prone to attack itself. So instead he manoeuvred towards Sunderland, which was less heavily defended.

At around 11pm the bombs started to fall in Millfield and Deptford. Then it moved onto Monkwearmouth, where the Goods Yard was hit and the roof over the railway lines (and the station) was badly damaged. There was a good deal of collateral damage in the surrounding streets, too, as a total of about twenty bombs were dropped. 22 people were killed, with several more later dying of their injuries. Wartime censorship of the press meant that a proper account of the raid was not published until December 1918.

Interestingly, Viktor Schutze himself reported on the raid as follows:

I decided not to cross the batteries on account of not being very high in relation to the firing, and also because of slow progress against the wind and the absolutely clear atmosphere up above. I fixed, therefore, on the town of Sunderland, with its extensive docks and the blast furnaces north-west of the town. Keeping on the weather side, the airships dropped explosive bombs on some works where one blast-furnace was blown up with a terrible detonation, sending out flames and smoke. The factories and dock buildings of Sunderland, now brightly illuminated, were then bombed with good results. The effect was grand; blocks of houses and rows of streets collapsed entirely; large fires broke out in places and a dense black cloud, from which bright sparks flew high, was caused by one bomb. A second explosive bomb was at once dropped at the same spot; judging from the situation, it may have been a railway station.

The zeppelin then came under fire from a gun at Fulwell, so turned to the south-east where it dropped more bombs on the docks, and then flew to Middlesbrough where it caused a good deal more damage before returning to base on the morning of 2nd April.

The all-embracing roof over the railway lines at Monkwearmouth was never repaired, and was removed completely in 1928. In its place, platform shelters were built.

Newcastle's Rabbie Burns Statue

It is said that Robert Burns, that rather well-known Scottish bard, only ever left Scotland three times. The first was a brief hop over the border when in the vicinity of Coldstream; then there was an ever-so-slightly more distant jaunt to Berwick. Finally, he embarked on an especially daring five-day trip, zigzagging down to Newcastle, before returning home via Hexham and Carlisle. These adventures took place in 1787, whilst collecting orders for a book of his poems.

He stayed at Newcastle for one night, Tuesday 29th May, and does not seem to have enjoyed the experience. The few comments he spared us about his stay are not exactly filled with enthusiasm, despite the fact that his brother, William, lived and worked in the town for several years.

Then, in 1901, a statue of the man appeared in Walker Park – which, you might think, came as something of a surprise to the locals. The fact was, though, that the shipyards of Walker, at the time, were populated to some considerable extent by migrant workers from the Clyde. And these guys scrimped and scraped for five long years (as members of their ‘Walker Burns Club’ *) to raise the necessary funds for the manufacture and erection of a cast iron statue of their homeland hero – all to commemorate the one-night visit of 1787. It was some 6 feet high and sat atop a large drinking fountain (cast by Walter Macfarlane & Co of Glasgow), with the statue itself being designed by one David Watson Stevenson.

But that is not the end of the story.

Over the years the statue fell into quite a state, suffering from periodic vandalism. Local Burns’ enthusiasts stepped in in the mid-1970s, repaired it, and re-erected it (for some reason) in Heaton Park in 1975. It fared little better there, being vandalised to an even greater extent. Eventually, in 1984, it was upended, rolled down a hill and broke into several pieces. The fragments were gathered together and thrown into storage in a Jesmond Dene depot.

However, when, thanks to a Heritage Lottery grant, Walker Park was recently revamped, it was decided to have a replica made of the statue and place it on a brand new (and very high) plinth on its original spot. In case you’re wondering, the original figure was repaired, too, and placed nearby – safely tucked inside the park’s new cafe (the original water fountain base has, however, disappeared without trace). The replica (as well as the repair job on the original) were the work of Wigan-based firm, Lost Art.

Walker Park’s statue is one of only three Burns memorials in the whole of England; the other two being in London.

* Believe it or not, the very first ‘Burns Club’ was founded in Sunderland in 1804 – though this is disputed by some folk north of the border!

P.S. I have not seen for myself the old statue in the park's cafe. Can anyone confirm whether or not it is still there?

[article taken from my book Newcastle-upon-Tyne: Tales from the Suburbs - see left-hand column for further info]

Favourite Newcastle Books No.7: Newcastle upon Tyne - Mapping the City

I've had this book for some time - pretty much since it was published in 2021, in fact. It has, however, sat on my 'to read' pile for ages. It's a big one to tackle, you see, and actually rather daunting. Well, I've spent a good deal of the past week or so making my way through it; and, though I have yet to read large sections of it, I must confess that I absolutely love it. It may even be the best book on the history of Newcastle ever published.

Firstly, it's a large-format, heavily illustrated affair, that runs to in excess of 250 pages. Yes, it tells the story of the history of the city through historical maps, but it's really much, much more than that. I mean, the maps alone are utterly fabulous - a great many of which I have never seen before - but the accompanying text is superbly enlightening, and clearly very well researched. 

Furthermore, it covers a far greater area than that of the city's boundaries, spreading not only into the suburbs, but also into the far corners of Tyneside as a whole - including Tynemouth and Shields, Jarrow, Gateshead, Swalwell - and includes sections on the growth and decline of all the major industries. Shipbuilding, coal transportation & waggonways, the old Crowley works, abandoned canal schemes, tunnels, bridges, waterworks, and all sorts of civic plans (both realised and abandoned) are covered. Both the text and the maps themselves are wonderful.

Perversely, it is the illustrated tales of those proposals that didn't make it beyond the planning stage that are the most interesting and thought-provoking. The remarkable road and rail ideas, the plans for canals, botanical gardens and the extraordinary prolonged arguments and counter-arguments over the city's new 'civic centre'. As well as dozens of others - all of which could have given us a very different look to the cityscape of today.

Here's a list of the contents (click on images to enlarge):

One very slight quibble. And that is the little cityscape silhouette featured on the front cover. Strangely, several of the featured buildings have nothing to do with our Newcastle. One is an outline of Christ Church Cathedral, Newcastle, NSW, Australia, and two of the others I have not been able to identify at all! An unfortunate oversight for what is otherwise a quite excellent and beautiful tome.

Newcastle upon Tyne: Mapping the City, by Michael Barke, Brian Robson & Anthony Champion, published by Birlinn, 2021. Published price £30, but can usually be found online a bit cheaper.

My Books ... For Christmas, Maybe?

As you no doubt know, since I retired from the world of 'proper' work back in December 2020 I have been rather busy with this writing lark. I have concentrated, in the main, on local history stuff, but have also turned out a couple of other efforts - one on football and another on genealogy.

All nine are handily available via Amazon as both paperbacks and ebooks - and direct links to them can be found around and about the columns of this blog. They are, essentially:

3 volumes in a series of books entitled Newcastle-upon-Tyne: Fragments of the Past

3 volumes in a series of books entitled The Great North-East: An English History Tour

A one-off volume entitled Newcastle-upon-Tyne: Tales from the Suburbs

A collection of essays on a subject close to my heart entitled Genealogy: Glitches, Gremlins & Bugbears

A biography of Cuthbert Ottaway, England's First Football Captain

Other than the last one, none of the above can be classed as in the slightest bit academic. They are full of fun facts and stories, and written in a 'popularist' manner. They are meant to be enjoyed rather than endured, and can be 'dipped into' whenever the fancy takes you.

And as you know the profits from most of them are donated to the Great North Children's Hospital, which is based here in Newcastle but takes in youngsters from all over the region. A worthy cause, I'm sure you'll agree. The profits from the Ottaway and Genealogy books are kept by me, though (just so you know - though the takings don't amount to much!).

It occurs to me that now is as good a time as any to post this message, as you may be looking for ideas for Christmas pressies - or even to treat yourself.

As well as all the links on this blog, you can also find more info at https://linktr.ee/historymick or at my really boring bio page at https://historymick.weebly.com/ 

There's another book of mine, too, which you may enjoy called In the News: the 1970s. (don't be frightened of the Lulu website, as it's free to register and there are no catches).

If you've made it all the way down to here, then well done. Thanks to all of you who have already bought any of my stuff (do leave a rating/review on Amazon), and thanks, too, for any support you can offer both now and in the future!

Oh, and, er, Happy Christmas! (in advance) 🎄🎅🎄🎅

Some Personal Newcastle Memorabilia!

(click to enlarge)

As today is my 60th birthday I do hope you will excuse a little self-indulgence and allow me to show you an image of the commemorative ‘birthday plaque’ which was ordered by my parents several decades ago.

The ‘plate’ is around 6” in diameter and was issued by the famous Delft Pottery in the Netherlands. The company produced these special plates on demand for several decades from the mid-twentieth century, and though the original factory no longer turns these out I understand a related company still produces them to order. 

As you can see, it shows my name, date & time of birth, birth-place (Newcastle!) and my weight (8lb 1oz). I cannot vouch for the illustrated mode of delivery, which seems somewhat questionable....

Does anyone else out there have something similar?

Newcastle's First Bishop

Ernest Roland Wilberforce, Bishop of Newcastle, 1882-96

As the Industrial Revolution swept Newcastle-upon-Tyne to the top of the pecking order, population-wise, in the North-East of England, it soon became clear that the separation of the town and its vicinity from the ancient diocese of Durham was inevitable. The rapidly-growing urban population of Newcastle and its suburbs demanded the constant creation of new parishes to meet the spiritual needs of the people to such an extent that it was finally decided in 1878 to push through an Act of Parliament to facilitate the administrative and ecclesiastical change. 

Tight financial restrictions meant that it took four years for the authorities to get round to actually appointing the new diocese's first bishop. Then, during late May and early June 1882, the final boxes were ticked and the UK's newest diocese was brought into being. Newcastle was finally granted city status on 3rd June 1882*, and moves were then made to appoint it's first bishop. That man was Ernest Roland Wilberforce, who was consecrated on 25th July 1882 (in Durham Cathedral, actually). He was the country's youngest diocesan bishop at the time of his appointment.

The new diocese included Newcastle, and the whole of Northumberland, with St.Nicholas' Church upgraded to a cathedral. The Church of England, though, were, at the time fighting what seemed like a losing battle. The 1881 Census had revealed that only around 4% of England's population regularly attended Anglican services, and that nonconformist churches and chapels had largely replaced the C of E as the dominant Christian force in industrialised areas. Something had to be done to redress the balance.

Ernest was born in 1840, being the third son of another bishop, Samuel, and his wife, Emily. He was also the grandson of the uber-famous William Wilberforce (of slave trade abolishment fame). Educated at Harrow and Oxford, he showed little in the way of academic ability, preferring sporting pursuits. Riding on the shirt-tails of his father, he progressed through several ministerial posts, until he became a canon at Winchester in 1878. After a brief missionary trip to Quebec during 1881-82, he was then, somewhat out of the blue, offered the brand-spanking new see of Newcastle by prime minister William Gladstone. He was happy to accept and made the trip north - well outside of his geographical comfort zone!

Whilst he settled into his new official residence at Benwell Towers (gifted to the diocese by Quaker banker John William Pease), Wilberforce set about the renaissance of the C of E's fortunes north of the Tyne. He basically set about fundraising - to the tune of £250,000 in his first five years as bishop, all of which allowed for the building of eleven new churches and seven new vicarages, as well as the taking on of 28 new clergy, over the first few years of his tenure. He travelled widely across Northumberland, too - with many nonconformists being won over by his tactful approach.

His health suffered as a result of his efforts, and he eventually transferred to the post of Bishop of Chichester in January 1896. He was active in many other areas (most notably in the temperance movement), and died on the Isle of Wight in 1907 (which, coincidentally, was where he'd been born).

Ernest married twice: to Frances Anderson (d.1870) and Emily Connor, and had a total of six children with the latter.

* There is some uncertainty as to exact date of Newcastle's transference from a 'town' to a 'city'. The official 'royal charter' constituting Newcastle as a city was not received by the mayor until 5th July 1882, which some claim as the official termination date of 'town' status. If anyone has any observations on this point, please comment below!