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!

The Great North-East: An English History Tour, vol.3

Good news! Another book!!

I am pleased to say that Volume 3 of The Great North-East: An English History Tour is now available for purchase at Amazon - see here, or click on the image above. It is available as both an eBook and an old-fashioned paperback. The profit margin on each sale is about £1.50 profit - which, of course, goes to the Great North Children's Hospital. 

Like volumes 1 & 2, the 200-page book takes an affectionate look at various aspects of the history of the region, from the Scottish border in the north to the River Tees / Cleveland in the south. Chapters this time around cover the following topics: Churches, War, Follies, Seats, River Tyne, Late Dark Ages, Places, Pubs Curiosities, Ruins, Trees, Fame, Castles & Industry.

By visiting Amazon you can read a sample of the book before you commit to buy (there is actually a bigger chunk of the text to view via the eBook option). It's all very laid back and informal, and will hopefully bring a smile to your face whilst learning a few new facts about the history of the country's most interesting region.

If you decide to buy a copy then may I offer you a big thank you from both the GNCH and myself. Pass the word on!

'The Man-Stealer Baffled': White Slavery?

A couple of years ago I purchased the complete 8 volume set of The Local Historian's Table Book by M.A.Richardson. It is an original 1840s affair, and is, well, quite literally falling apart at the seams (but it was cheap). The set is divided into two parts: 5 volumes of 'Historical' bits and bobs, and 3 volumes of 'Legendary' stuff. The former is full of interesting snippets, but I'd never bothered very much with the latter, until a few days ago...

In order to justify my impulsive purchase, I thought it about time that I cast my eyes over the first of the 'Legendary' volumes. I didn't expect to find much in the way of actual factual stuff, but was surprised to discover a good deal of interest. The most surprising was one of the first tales entitled The Man-Stealer Baffled: An Incident of Tynedale, which tells the story of the habitual "seizing by force [of] able bodied young men and sending them as slaves to the sugar plantations in the West India Islands." An example is given, being dated to a point in the early 1700s, which took place a little to the north of Corbridge. The 'man-stealer' was thankfully stopped in his tracks, I am pleased to say.

Here are images of the three pages in question. Click on the same to enlarge - hope you can make them out. The texts can also be found at Google Books and archive.org 

Edward I at Newcastle, 1296

On 1st March 1296, King Edward I of England arrived at Newcastle for his appointment with John Balliol, King of the Scots. Balliol had been appointed to his esteemed position by a committee headed by the English king, so he was very much playing second fiddle in the meeting of the monarchs - and most certainly expected to at least turn up to pay homage, and to thereafter pretty much do as he was told. He didn't show; so Edward advanced into Scotland with his 30,000+ army, and brought his troublesome neighbours to heel at the Battle of Dunbar on 27th April 1296. And so began the First War of Scottish Independence.

The following piece appeared in several nineteenth century historical collections, though the exact, original source is rather difficult to pin down. It paints a vivid picture of Edward Longshanks impatiently awaiting the arrival of Balliol in the castle keep, his vast army bristling with anticipation. It is entitled Edward the First at Newcastle, A.D. 1296 - A Fragment, which implies the verse was part of a greater whole. If anyone knows anything more about the piece, then do leave a comment.

 

Meantime within Newcastle walls, 

Crowding her squares, her streets and halls, 

Ready to march to hill or glen, 

Full more than thirty thousand men, 

All armed and wearing mail and plate, 

The orders of their king await. 

Himself, within his massive hold, 

Surrounded by his barons bold, 

Discoursed of Balliol's perfidy, 

And how due chastisement should be 

Dealt upon those who dared disown 

His right to Scotland's ancient crown. 

Tall he appeared, his frame was spare, 

Swarthy his hue, and dark his hair; 

Firm was his look, his deep black eyes, 

As thoughts of war or high emprise 

To rouse his spirit might conspire, 

Flamed in his head like coals of fire. 

So plain his garb that those who gazed 

Upon their monarch were amazed, 

He should appear, arrayed so mean, 

In midst of such a martial scene; 

For arms and pennons waving far 

On every side, showed pomp of war, 

And thronged around him, bold and free, 

The pride of England's chivalry, 

Whilst her broad standard to the sky 

Streamed on the castle turrets high.

END of fragment.

A Visit to St.Paul's Church, Jarrow

A short time ago I called in at St.Paul's Church, Jarrow, in what was my first visit for nigh on 30 years. And this is no ordinary parish church: for it is the site, too, of the monastic home of the Venerable Bede. So it looms large in our history. It was a fleeting visit, but is nonetheless worthy of mention as I should like to encourage you all to spare an hour or so of your own time in paying your own respects to a spot on the map that was once the scholastic capital of northern Europe.

If you do visit, then, like me, you'll probably find yourself all on your lonesome. For one thing, it's a bit out-of-the-way, hemmed in by the River Don to the east and south, and to the north and west by large tracts of industry and parkland. Also to the north, of course, you will find the tourist attraction that is 'Jarrow Hall: Anglo-Saxon Farm, Village & Bede Museum'.

The present church dates, in the main, to a period long after the 7th/8th century days of Bede, amounting to a hotch-potch of structures and additions from many different eras. Parts of the chancel, though, date from Bede's day; and a good deal of the remainder of the old monastic complex can be seen in ruinous form to the south of the church. The site (well, the monastic ruins, at least) are cared for by English Heritage, but can be freely roamed at any reasonable time during daylight hours.

The only individuals who were present on my visit were two members of staff who were hovering inside the entrance. They politely indicated the main points of interest, then left me to it.

Anglo-Saxon chancel

(click on image to enlarge)

Main point of interest is the chancel, which was essentially one of the two Anglo-Saxon churches that likely existed on the original site. The dedication stone which hovers over the chancel arch is dated 685AD, which makes it the oldest such stone in England. 

The original (sorry, out of focus)...

...and a replica

There is the tiny reconstructed stained glass window, too, containing ancient glass made in the old monastic workshops (and therefore making it, one could say, the oldest stained glass window in the world!). And then, of course, there is the so-called  Bede's Chair:

I should add, though, that the item does not date to the time of Bede. It's origins are not definitively known, but scientific tests indicate an origin some centuries after the days of the famous monk. Still, though, nice. 

Elsewhere in the church can be found some archaeological foundations in the main aisle, and an exhibition of Anglo-Saxon sculpture - as well as plenty of information boards and a nice gift shop. It's all free, but do leave a donation.

Outside one can wander what remains of the old monastic complex, all of which date from various eras. The more substantial lumps of stone date from the 11th century, but the foundations of earlier buildings are clearly discernible.

As is so often the case with the materialistic elements of our heritage here in the North-East, the whole site of St.Paul's Church and Monastery in Jarrow is charmingly understated - and, indeed, shockingly underappreciated. So do the decent thing and call in for yourself and have a poke around.

Farthing Pants

In the October 1887 edition of The Monthly Chronicle of North-Country Lore & Legend, a short article by a “William Wallace, of Newcastle” was published, thus:

Farthing Pants

The Whittle Dene Water Company was first established in Newcastle in 1846. Previous to this, the most of the better sort of houses in the town had pumps or wells in the rear of their premises; but the poorer class of the inhabitants had to carry all the water they used from the various pants in the town. Besides the numerous public pants, which, of course, were free and open to all, there were, in the more populous districts of the town, sources of supply called "farthing pants”, each being under the management of an old woman, who sat in a sort of watch or sentry box, armed with an enormous key, with which she turned on the water, and which ponderous key she always carried away when she went off duty. The sum of one farthing was charged for a "skeel" full of water, a skeel being a sort of tub with one handle, which was always carried on the head, being placed upon a "weeze", or cushion, so as to keep off the pressure, and, as the vessel held six or eight gallons, the weight was no trifle.

People now-a-days can hardly conceive the trouble and labour spent in obtaining a few gallons of pure water at this time. When a little lad, I have often made one of a crowd of women and children, patiently sitting round one of the public pants, waiting their "turn", the spout meanwhile running like a thread, at the rate, perhaps, of a gallon in ten minutes. All sorts of cunning dodges used to be tried to get a supply out of turn. Appeals, too, were often made to the sympathy and good nature of the crowd, such as: — "Aa ha’e ma man's dinner te get reddy. It’s varry neer twelve o'clock. Aa divvent knaa whaat te de. Thor’ll be a bonny gam if he cums in and aa's oot." A more successful plaint was, "Aa've left the bairn iv th' creddle, and nebody iv th' hoose beside it." This seldom failed of effect. One woman after another expressing her willingness to give up her "torn”, the complainer would get her supply, and hurry off to the bairn. But there were many disputes, leading to much bad language, and not unfrequently to the waste of the water which so much time and trouble had been spent to get. Any impudent attempt to take advantage was promptly resisted by the crowd, and I have often seen a woman deluged with the water that it had taken twenty minutes to gather.

Before the Whittle Dene Water Company began business the town was supplied by the Newcastle Joint-Stock Water Company. Its sources of supply were: — Carr's Hill, Coxlodge, Town Moor, private wells, and the river Tyne. The company had 32 pants, which supplied water to the public at the rate of a farthing a "skeel." The Corporation had also twenty public pants, which were free and open to all comers. Now, in 1845 there were 15,000 houses in Newcastle, but out of this number only 1,350 had the water laid on to them, the rent being from 18s. to 30s. per house, exclusive of closets, &c. That now despised coin, the farthing, I believe, has almost dropped out of circulation, but forty years ago it was in general currency. The old ladies who attended to the pants sat in watch-boxes, and in cold weather were always dressed in long, thick, warm overcoats, reaching down to their heels. They were not easily induced to give credit, the old lady who attended the pant on the New Road [City Road], at all events, being very particular. When urged by some poor woman, who was literally without a farthing in the world, she would exclaim, "Aa durna, hinny. They're varry partiklor at the offis, varry partiklor." When a suspicious-looking coin was offered to her, she would often reject it with the same words, "They're varry partiklor at the offis. Aa dinna think it's a good yen." She seemed to hold the "office" in awe and dread, which was not without effect upon her customers.