The Irish Problem

I was recently reminded of a little-known issue that seventeenth century Newcastle (and the North-East in general) had with Irish pirates operating in the North Sea. It's an unlikely story, the fine detail of which must have left old Novocastrians somewhat nonplussed. I covered it briefly in Volume 2 of my book Newcastle-upon-Tyne: Fragments of the Past, which I reproduce below in the hope of tempting you to buy a copy of the same from Amazon! ...

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Ever since the ‘Plantation of Ulster’ in the 1610s, England and Ireland had been consistently at each other’s throats. The Irish Rebellion of 1641 raised the stakes somewhat; and, by the time of the Commonwealth, Oliver Cromwell was itching to get at the Celtic foe. During this time the Irish retaliated in a variety of ways, including, somewhat surprisingly, occasional pirate-like activity off the coast of North-East England.

During 1648, heavily-armed Irish frigates wandered the east coast of England in considerable numbers. The following year was no better, with twenty ships, including many colliers, lost to Irish privateers in the vicinity of Newcastle, as the pirates were to be found “lurking up and down in [the] seas ... [doing] great mischief.” Soon after Cromwell landed at Dublin in August 1649, the problems escalated. Historian Eneas Mackenzie stated in his 1827 history of Newcastle that “at the latter end of the year 1649, mention occurs of several pirates lurking in the northern seas, and committing great depredations in the vicinity of Newcastle.” Then, the following year, there is a report of an Irish frigate attacking a Newcastle ship near Hartlepool, which was successfully repelled by the swift action of the said town’s governor.

As the early 1650s progressed, and Cromwell’s grip on Ireland tightened, the Irish pirate threat to the waters off the North-East coast finally eased.

Relics of Blaydon & Winlaton

As I've already told you, I am in the process of moving house up to Morpeth. This represents quite a wrench for me, as I've always lived and worked within spitting distance of the Tyne and my beloved hometown of Newcastle. For a good couple of decades I lived in the city's west end, then moved over to Winlaton (my wife's native patch), where I spent the next 35 years. Morpeth will be new ground for me, and I'm looking forward to it. In the meantime, I'm stuck between houses in my son's pad in Hazlerigg.

Winlaton and neighbouring Blaydon, then, have had quite a hold on me these past few decades. Whenever I was asked where I lived I always had to reference The Blaydon Races, which usually did the trick. Winlaton, though, is the older of the two settlements, even if it does play second fiddle to its younger brother these days.

From time to time, of course, I would call in at Blaydon Library to see if anything new, history-wise, was lurking. Their stock item of interest in this regard was the head of the statue of Garibaldi, thus:

I'm not sure if you'll be able to read this, but click on the image to improve your chances:

Anyway, the last time I wandered in there I found the little side room open - the first time I'd seen it on open access. So I wandered in for a gander, and found the following strewn around the room, which I think are self-explanatory. Again, click on the images to enlarge them (though I apologise for the poor quality of the 'Garibaldi's legs' image):

I'm not sure why these little treasures are stashed away in a side room, out of normal sight. But I suppose if you want access to them you may simply have to ask at reception. The room in question is a 'community space', so you might find yourself surrounded by schoolchildren or a Pilates class, or whatever, but it's worth the effort for getting sight of a few rare fragments of Tyneside history.

*NEW BOOK* Novocastrian: A Newcastle Memoir

[See end of post for special offer, being a free sample of the book]

Here I am, aged 6½, in my Bukta track suit posing for the camera on Slatyford Lane in the summer of 1971. It was at the bus stop near the junction with Pooley Road if you’re really that interested.

Yes, Denton Burn - and Newcastle’s West End in general - was where I spent the first twenty-odd years of my life, before marriage and other stuff took me elsewhere. Though the suburb was not without its issues, I loved it there; and ever since I’ve never considered living anywhere else other than on Tyneside, within spitting distance of my native parish.

Newcastle-upon-Tyne, then, has formed the central pillar of my life for these past six decades. Not only have I lived, schooled, worked and socialised in its shadow, but I have wasted countless hours watching its football team endlessly struggle for recognition and honours for far too long, too. I have also been an enthusiast of the city’s history for as long as I can remember. I love the place.

Being something of a genealogist, a couple of years ago I sat down and worked out how much of my own personal family history was linked to Newcastle. Turns out that at the time I conducted my mental calculation I was on the eve of the 200th anniversary of my ancestors’ very first appearance in the town: the baptism of my great-great-grandmother at St.Andrew’s Church in May 1824. I paid the church a visit on the exact day of the anniversary as a nod to Elizabeth Hudson’s christening and to the past in general. My family line won’t always be centred on Newcastle, so I thought it worth the effort*.

I then considered it appropriate that I get some of the family’s Newcastle story down on paper. I’d picked up a lot about my family tree over the years, had a pretty good knowledge of the city’s past, and, well, I had actually lived through more than half a century of said history. I thought I’d try to bring it all together: several strands of related stories in one book … for my own satisfaction if nothing else.

It was a good deal more difficult than I’d imagined. It took two years to pull everything together and organise it into a comprehensible read. I got a bit lost in places, probably forgot some bits, and maybe rambled on too much from time to time. I’m not sure how many of you will be interested, but it is out there now in the shape of Novocastrian: A Newcastle Memoir. It’s all about the city’s history over the past couple of centuries, especially those bits that relate to my ancestors’ stories; as well as my own experience of growing up in and around Newcastle in the 1970s and 1980s. And, as I say, there’s a fair few mentions of that bloody football team, too.

Anyway, it’s up there on Amazon if you want to give it a try. There’s no e-book this time, I’m afraid, just the paperback version. And the profits for this one are not (for once!) going to charity - so do help me on my way towards millionaire status 🙂…

* As for future generations, my wife and I were recently delivered of our very first grandchild, a girl, on 30th December 2025, at Northumbria Hospital, Cramlington. So not at Newcastle, then ☹️. Oh, and I should perhaps admit that I have this month moved house to Morpeth - being the furthest point from Newcastle that I have ever lived. Does this, I wonder, amount to a betrayal to my birthplace?

SPECIAL OFFER: If you’d like a free sample extract from the book (the first 16 pages or so, in PDF form), then email me at southwickmick@gmail.com . No catches, and no obligation to buy the whole book, of course!

Newcastle Keep Well Room

On my recent visit to Newcastle Keep (a quite marvellous place, BTW), I turned a corner and was surprised to fall upon the structure's 'Well Room'. How strange - and how wonderful - I thought. This magnificent piece of medieval engineering is accompanied by the following modest information panel:

Now I was going to do a bit of research and find out as much as I could about the keep's life-saving feature, but soon came upon a nice little article from Ales Iles' blog, which rendered my plan somewhat redundant. So do check it out - and indeed have a browse of the rest of Mr Iles' website, where there is plenty to interest the history-mad Novocastrian.

But you really must visit the castle keep for yourself, too, though. Check out their website at www.newcastlecastle.co.uk 

Newcastle Racecourse Teaser

I trust you will excuse me returning to the northern suburbs of Newcastle again for my latest post. The thing is, I am in between houses at the moment (moving from Winlaton to, hopefully, Morpeth) and am, for a while, staying up in Hazlerigg at my son's house. So as every self-respecting historical nosey parker would do, I am having a poke around my new environment to see what I can find.

One such expedition took me a-wandering down the Great North Road, where I fell upon the entrance to Newcastle Racecourse and found the following:

And what, exactly, was the funny-shaped cross and shell all about, I wondered?

Well, it turns out that it is the emblazonment that featured on the shield of the coat of arms of the Brandling family who once owned Gosforth House, the eighteenth century mansion that still lies beyond the gates (and forms part of the racecourse complex). It is now more commonly referred to as Brandling House.

The mansion was built in the 1750s by Charles Brandling (1733-1802), and acted as the family's main residence for several decades. Despite the dynasty's many lucrative business interests (banking and coal, mainly), they eventually overstretched themselves and Gosforth House was sold in 1852. In 1880, High Gosforth Park Company bought a large chunk of the estate, and turned the area into a racecourse. The house itself formed a major part of the development, but its internals were destroyed by a fire started by the suffragettes in 1914. It was then restored in 1921, and currently serves as an events centre.

The gate columns are obviously (I assume) originals, and show the distinctive Patonce Cross, with escallop shell in the upper left-hand quadrant. I understand that this curious combination is representative of a deep Christian faith and a devotion to pilgrimage. Quite why the Brandlings plumped for this I don't know.

Nice that they left the gateposts intact, though.

The Lane That Moved: the Story of Friday Fields Lane

Every time I hit the top of Matthew Bank in Jesmond, I stare in puzzlement at the street sign of the wonderfully-named ‘Friday Fields Lane’. It amounts to a pedestrianised thoroughfare linking Jesmond Dene Road in the north to Towers Avenue in the south, and runs for a little over a hundred yards, straight as a die, along the western border of what used to be North Jesmond House/La Sagesse Girls School. I was down that way the other day, aimlessly wandering around (as I am prone to do), and decided to head off down the little cut to see what I could find.

Nothing much, as it turned out. And I was none the wiser as regards an explanation for the lane’s unusual moniker. When I got back home I did what any self-respecting amateur historian would do and had a look at a few books and scoured the internet for an explanation. There wasn’t a great deal to be found, but I’ll give you what I have.

In the days before the suburban sprawl arrived, there used to be a wee farmstead by the name of Friday Farm, situated roughly on the junction of present-day Haldane and Otterburn Terraces (being a good deal to the south of our mysterious lane). I don’t know how or why it was called thus (I mean, the name of the farmstead is a bit unusual), but at least we have a clue as to the source of our odd-sounding byway to the north. And, as was the norm back in those days of rural Jesmond, the fields around and about were given names, too. In this area they were collectively known as the ‘Friday Fields’, with specific examples being ‘Little Short Friday’, ‘Great Friday’ and, tellingly, ‘Long Friday’. The latter of those expanses of open farmland was a bit of a funny shape – elongated, like a road almost – and could well be the root of the ‘Friday Fields Lane’ epithet. We can perhaps imagine that it became a pathway of sorts, through and between the neighbouring fields, arrowing northward towards what would eventually become Jesmond Dene Road. Or maybe not. It might have been nothing to do with the handily-named field, but instead just been a nearby and long-established ‘public right of way’, as we now call them.

In time, the rough byway morphed into a lane proper, essentially becoming the ‘lane to Friday Fields’ at its southern extremity (running along, roughly, present-day North Jesmond Avenue, St.George’s Terrace and Tankerville Terrace). But as the changing landscape and various realignments settled down into the suburban map we know today, the long lane became severely truncated, with only the northern tip remaining.

The course of this much-shortened Victorian ‘Friday Fields Lane’ was not, however, in its current location, but rather a little to the east – essentially on the other side of North Jesmond House/La Sagesse School. For, on all of the OS maps up until the immediate post-WWII period, the lane in question is clearly shown on the other side of the aforementioned institution. The switch seems to have been made at some point in the 1950s or early ’60s, possibly at a point when the school/convent was properly establishing itself and wanted a little re-jig of the surrounding thoroughfares.

And so Friday Fields Lane was moved a few dozen yards to the west to its present location. It no longer runs along its former course, nor does it lead or extend to anywhere near its original destination of Friday Fields – now some one and a bit miles to the south (and currently on and around the site of the Newcastle High School for Girls, Senior School). It’s a wonder it has retained its old name at all.

(click on image to enlarge)

The OS map of 1951, just before the Friday Fields Lane switch from the east (right) of La Sagesse School to the west (where it is now located).

Ordnance Survey (1951, surveyed 1949)

Reproduced with the permission of the National Library of Scotland

And that’s about it, as far I can tell. There are a couple of other little tales surrounding the old thoroughfare which I might as well throw in for good measure. It was known locally as Lovers’ Walk for some time, as these pretty little pedestrian lanes so often are; and historian Steve Ellwood mentioned online some time ago an interesting little snippet that he picked up from another local historian and city guide, Alan Morgan, that “a pedestrian subway was built in the 1800’s by Charles Mitchell to accommodate Friday Fields Lane which lay in the way of the carriageway drive to Jesmond Towers. According to Alan it remains in place, albeit under the present road, Towers Avenue”. Could this mysterious underpass, Steve suggests, be the first pedestrian subway in Newcastle?

Oh, no, not another historical conundrum…. 

Note: Much of the above was conducted in haste and in an inappropriately un-thorough manner. If anyone has any thoughts, information or alternative theories then please do comment below. In the meantime, I should like to acknowledge the following:
Alan Morgan – with his Jesmond: From Mines to Mansions being a particularly good starting point on the history of the suburb;
Steve Ellwood – for his excellent general commentary (both online and off-) on the local history of Newcastle and its suburbs, often via the SkyscraperCity Forums at www.skyscrapercity.com ;
The helpful and lengthy article at https://hightimes.churchhigh.me.uk/background/ ;
And the always excellent online resource that is https://maps.nls.uk/os/ .

A Fragment of the Past: the Romans at Denton

On a recent visit to Newcastle's Great North Museum: Hancock, I fell upon this little piece of history relating to my home patch, Denton Burn. The inscription seems to intimate that the section of Wall hereabouts was built by a soldiery unit from modern-day Romania, led by a Thracian (from modern-day Greece). However, further research suggests that it pertains to the construction of the Vallum a little to the south of the Wall. Here's a drawing of the inscription:

In case you're wondering, it was found on the north edge of the south mound of the Vallum, during the construction of the present-day housing estate in the late 1930s. The exact point of discovery was the top of Heathwell Road, where it meets the thoroughfare known as West Vallum. The slab would have been laid, on show, in the side of the earthen Vallum. 

Anyway, that's the short version of the story. If you'd like a little more detail, then click here.