A Couple of Toon Recommendations

I know I've mentioned this website before, but it's been a long time since I first brought it to everyone's attention so I thought I'd give it another airing. 

Those of you with an interest in Newcastle's past should check out the 'Newcastle Stuff' website at https://newcastlestuff.co.uk/ - a splendid effort, and one of the few places on the internet dedicated to the history of the city. As far as I can tell, it is still being updated from time to time, so do keep tabs on it.

Those of us looking for a bit of old footage of Newcastle (or anywhere, for that matter) turn, of course, first of all to YouTube. But don't forget the British Film Institute, where what looks like the majority of their film clips are available for free. For example, those relating to Newcastle can be found here. I'm not sure what a subscription brings you, but you may wish to have a browse of the free stuff when you've next got a hour or two to spare.

Remember: if you've got any recommendations to pass on regarding the history of Newcastle, or anywhere else in the North-East of England, then do let me know at

micksouthwick @ blueyonder.co.uk (without the gaps!)

A Strange Marriage Ceremony

From The Monthly Chronicle of North-Country Lore & Legend of June 1891:

1891, April 25th - A strange marriage ceremony took place at South Shields. A circus curiosity, a little woman 32 inches high, was joined in matrimony to a man who stood upwards of six feet in his stockings! Another ‘‘monstrosity,” who had to sign the register by holding the pen between his teeth, he having no arms, gave the bride away. Accompanying the party was an ‘‘American giantess” weighing 44 stones, as also a couple of men measuring 7 feet 10 inches and 29 & 1/2 inches in height, respectively. The bride and bridegroom and their friends were connected with a travelling menagerie and circus.

Such a shame that no names are mentioned. Such were the insensitivities of the day, I don't suppose such details were considered as important as the graphic descriptions of their respective physical peculiarities. At least they put the word 'monstrosity' in inverted comas.

Anyway, I dug a little deeper, and found the following, similar account in The Mercury newspaper, of Hobart, Tasmania (11th June 1891):

A wedding of an extraordinary character took place at the Registrar's Office at South Shields recently, the bridal pair being a little lady mite, who is only 32in. high, and Professor Hedley, solo euphonium player, who is 6ft. 1in. in height. The gentleman who gave the lady away was Monsieur Hubert, a man without arms, who signed the marriage certificate as a witness with a pen between his teeth, and the bridesmaids were Nina, an American giantess, who is 44 stone in weight, and Setonella, the "Fire Queen". The best man was Captain Dallas, who is 7ft. 10in. high; and General Metelene, who is 29 1/2 in. in height, formed one of the party, all of whom are connected with a menagerie and circus which is travelling the country.

Though this (and other identical newspaper reports) give the name of the groom as 'Professor Hedley', I can find no trace of such a chap getting hitched in South Shields at that time - so not his real name, I suspect. And still no name for the bride!

If anyone can offer any further details then please do comment below!

Random Recommendations & a History Lesson

For all of my adult life I have been interested in the history of the North-East of England. As many of you know, I have written many articles on all sorts of topics, and published them here, there and everywhere. I have had odd pieces published in local newspapers and magazines, but I have mainly just published them myself on blogs and self-published magazines and books.

I am no academic, and simply enjoy the process of passing on - in an amateurish, populist way - little snippets that I have picked up on my travels through both the landscape and my book collection. I like to be able to pass on the occasional nugget of historical knowledge to my family, too, on our travels - even if no one seems to be that interested!

In my more smug moments I like to think of myself as a bit of an expert. Until, that is, I come across some topic or other of which I have absolutely no knowledge, and which holds me transfixed for an hour or two on YouTube, or wherever. I then realise that I know almost nothing of my 'specialist subject', and am forced to conclude that I will never 'know it all'.

When, for example, I find myself looking over the seemingly empty expanse of the Durham Moors and the Pennines beyond, I stand there thinking to myself, well, there's not much to see here, then. An isolated ruin on a hillside, a faint track through the heather, or the skeletal remains of a mangled piece of ironwork: none of it can mean very much, can it?

Whilst out walking the other day I fell upon - totally unexpectedly - the mighty Hownsgill Viaduct, near Consett. My wife and I had pulled up at another previously unvisited spot, the delightful Allensford Country Park, where we walked westwards towards the Wharnley Burn Waterfall, then fell upon (in the other direction) the following 'Heritage Trail' information panel:

(click to enlarge)

So, off we went, following the path (not easily done, I would add, so take your OS map/app!) and eventually fell upon the immense structure. I knew a bit about Consett and its old iron & steel works, of course, but the viaduct was an unknown entity. 

Then, coincidentally, a few days later I fell upon mention of the same patch of ground on the always excellent North-East Heritage Library's website . The young man behind the NEHL, Kieran Carter, recently wandered these parts on foot and a great deal of information on the area can be found on his Twitter/X feed - and an excellent article can be found on Kieran's website concerning the related Stanhope & Tyne Railway. All great stuff, and new to me.

Then I came across a new-ish YouTube channel called 'Rails & Revolutions'. And though it only has a few videos up and running, I found the quality of the same quite excellent and most informative. And, again, yes, it made me feel quite inadequate when it came to historical knowledge of the seemingly empty, open fells of County Durham. If you enjoy the local history of the North-East, then I would urge you to have a look. It'll certainly fill in a few gaps for you on the historical map of the region!

Boy, I've still got a lot to learn....

P.S. If anyone out there has any other websites or YouTube channels to recommend, then do get in touch.

A Sleazy Snack-Bar

If you walk from Newcastle, over the High Level Bridge, and wander past the railway arches on your left, you will come to this little micro-pub situated in the very last arch:

(click to enlarge)

This is the Microbus pub, a regular haunt of mine. It is (obviously) very small, and you often have to sit (or stand) outside at busy periods. Nice, though, and I would certainly recommend it. Hopefully my recommendation will be sufficient payback for the cheeky use of the image from their website!

Last time I was there I noticed the following poster on the wall, which, I think, tells you all you need to know about the purpose of this post:

(again, click to enlarge)

Isn't that just wonderful?

Richard Grainger's Brush With Death

 

Anyone who knows anything about the history of Newcastle, will surely also know at least a little about Richard Grainger. He was born in the town in 1797, lived pretty much all of his life there, before dying in Newcastle in 1861. He was our greatest ever builder, developer and entrepreneur, leaving a legacy in stone that survives in beautiful abundance today.

Despite his monumental efforts in transforming the townscape during the late Georgian and early Victorian eras, his safety record was remarkably good. There were only ever two serious accidents in his time at the development helm: the first being a collapse of scaffolding at the Leazes, and the second a building collapse in Market Street. And in the second of these Grainger himself was very nearly killed.

The following account is taken from The Monthly Chronicle of North-Country Lore & Legend of January 1889:

The work was not without its perils. On the 11th of June 1835, for instance, about three o’clock in the afternoon, three houses on the south-west side of Market Street suddenly fell with a tremendous crash whilst in course of erection. The buildings had nearly reached their intended height. At least a hundred men were at work upon and immediately around them, several of whom were precipitated to the ground with the falling materials, and were buried in the ruins. Many more had almost miraculous escapes from a similar fate. As soon as the alarm had subsided, the other workmen, upwards of seven hundred in number, devoted themselves to the relief and rescue of the sufferers. Of those disinterred, one, the foreman of the masons, died in a few hours; four were dead when found; fifteen were got out alive, but greatly injured, and two of them died, making seven in all. Grainger himself had a narrow escape. He had inspected the houses but a few minutes before; when they fell, he was standing upon the scaffolding of the adjacent house.

Well, if you ask me, if the boss had only just inspected the houses prior to their collapse, I'm not sure that he knew what he was doing! 😉

Coanwood Quaker Meeting House

As part of the process of putting together Volume 4 of The Great North-East: An English History Tour, I am now wandering far and wide in pursuit of the photos I need for said book. The other day I persuaded my wife to take us on a trip to the relatively remote destination that is Coanwood Quaker Meeting House, a couple of miles or so east of Coanwood (at precisely NY709589, if you're interested). I was so taken with the place that I feel compelled to tell you all about it now.

It ain't easy to find, but the above grid reference will get you there. Park up near the farm entrance, walk over the little bridge and the pretty brook, and the chapel is hidden behind the trees to your right. It really is a lovely little spot. Let me say to begin with that as surviving Quaker chapels go, this is just about the most perfectly-preserved example of its kind in the UK. It has remained pretty much unchanged since its construction in 1760.

The head of a local landowning family of the time, Cuthbert Wigham, was responsible for its founding. Stone construction, Welsh slate roof (probably originally heather-thatched - most likely the only alteration!), and a beautifully austere interior. Stone flagged floor, plain open-backed wooden pews, raised Elders' benches, and a partitioned room at the rear with a small fireplace.

Outside can be found a small graveyard with the little, rounded headstones of the Quaker type - including that of the aforementioned Cuthbert Wigham. And to one side can be found a netty!

The meeting house ceased operating as a Quaker chapel in 1960, but is still maintained by local volunteers. Recently, overall care has been transferred from the Historic Chapels Trust to the 'Friends of Friendless Churches' organisation. It is usually to be found open to the public, as it was when I visited on a Saturday morning.

Hopefully, it will be accessible when you decide to pay it a visit. And if you're feeling particularly gregarious, the annual gathering/picnic will be held there at 12.30pm on 14th September 2025. It really is a cutie, and I would urge you to call in when you're next in the vicinity.

And I'll let you know when that book of mine is available for purchase. Will be out later this year.

Newcastle's C-Roads

When my mate and I recently called in at the Cosy Dove pub on Hunter's Road in Spital Tongues, we fell upon this strange-looking road sign. It can be found in the middle of the street a little to the east of the pub:

It tells us, of course, that the thoroughfare in question is a C-road, which is quite a rare breed these days. We've all heard of A- and B-roads, but there was once a time when we had C-, D- and even U-roads to contend with, too. These lesser-known classifications of the UK's road numbering system are - or rather were - used primarily by local (and not national) authorities, and were for low-density streets.

There are only a handful of C-roads left, and I'm not sure there are ANY D- and U-roads still in existence. Of the few that are still marked on signage as per above many of them are to be found in and around Newcastle, for some strange reason. Another one (the C-104) runs through Fawdon (aka Kingston Park Road), and the C-137 runs along Queen Victoria Road, Richardson Road and up into Spital Tongues.

There are others, too - check out this website for further info - as well as looking up the individual road numbers here.

As for the above C-116, it apparently runs from some indeterminate point on Claremont Road, along Hunter's Road, Brighton Grove and Bentinck Road, before ending at Elswick Cemetery.

Well I never.