Newcastle-Staithes Connections

Staithes is usually considered the south-eastern limit of the 'North-East of England' - well, at least it is by me. And I found myself calling in there the other day, being the final stop on the Cleveland leg of my coastal adventures. I hadn't been there for years, but the limitations of daylight at this time of year precluded a lengthy visit - after all, I had to get back to Skinningrove before 4pm! However, my wife and I had a snack there (as well as the obligatory ice cream - yes, in November), and we indulged ourselves with a quick scout around its charming streets before we turned on our heels.

Everywhere I go I am always on the lookout for connections with my hometown of Newcastle. I wasn't really expecting to find any at Staithes, to be honest, but as luck would have it I just happened to fall upon a couple of strong links in the days following my visit. And two very different ones at that.

The first concerns Newcastle-born (in 1851) artist Isa Jobling (nee Thompson), who, after a comfortable upbringing on the west side of the town (her father was a successful ships' chandler), ended up in Paris studying art. After her father's death in 1875 she returned to the region and set up home in Cullercoats among its famous artists' community, where she flourished. Like most of the other painters around her, Isa specialised in romanticised images of the working folk of the village, and exhibited twice in the 1880s.

In 1889, she moved to Elswick and also set up a city centre studio, but began making regular trips to ... yes, you've guessed it ... Staithes. Here she further indulged her passion for painting working class men and women, which led to her exhibiting widely up until the mid-1890s. Her marriage to fellow artist Robert Jobling in 1893 (and a move back to Cullercoats) led to a falling-off of her output, but the pair visited Staithes regularly over the following years, with their resultant paintings featuring prominently in their many exhibitions. Isa Jobling's most famous work is probably Fisher Folk, featuring two fisher-women from Staithes. After a long and successful double-career, Robert died in 1923 and Isa in 1926. 

The other link between Newcastle and Staithes concerns the alum industry. Now, alum was important in the textile industry as a fixing agent for dyes. Traditionally, this had been imported from Italy, but from the 1600s the industry took off here in England thanks to the discovery of alum-rich shale on the North Yorkshire coast. Loftus and Boulby, immediately to the west of Staithes, were two of the biggest quarries in this regard. And the scars of this long-gone industry can still be clearly seen in the landscape thereabouts.

Thing is, the whole process of quarrying and processing the raw materials (before one arrived at the finished product) was a very long-winded operation indeed. To cut a long story short (and there are plenty of websites out there to consult if you're interested) this involved importing rather a lot of coal for the various stages of burning and firing, and an inordinate amount of stale urine, too, for its ammonium content. As you have probably by now guessed, most of the coal - as well as a good deal of the urine - was shipped in from Newcastle/Tyneside. The 'liquid gold' was specially collected in large tubs on street corners, and ships (perhaps somewhat embarrassingly) 'took the piss' to its Yorkshire destination. Many other major towns and villages along the east coast similarly partook in this curious exchange. And, obviously, the finished alum needed to be shipped out of Staithes and the other various Yorkshire seaside villages to the major textile centres - and this included Newcastle, of course. So it really was quite a substantial two-way concern for a good couple of hundred years or so.

However, with the development of synthetic dyes in the 1850s the whole messy set-up ground to a halt, and Staithes returned to its age-old fishy ways.

Newcastle & the Charge of the Light Brigade

Perhaps the most well-known moment of the Crimean War of 1853-56 was the ill-fated Charge of the Light Brigade, when British cavalry were erroneously sent into the face of heavy Russian artillery fire. Newcastle has (at least) two important links with the incident, which took place on 25th October 1854 during the Battle of Balaklava.

Firstly, it was Newcastle-born Brigadier-General Richard Airey (above) who, following the instructions of his superior, actually issued the fateful order for the infamous ‘charge’. This would have been a written order, drafted by Airey and handed down the chain of command. A catastrophic misinterpretation of the order led to the failed action.

Furthermore, the trumpeter who sounded the charge was one Billy Brittain, an Irishman who lived in Newcastle. Brittain died of his wounds in the battle, but his battered trumpet found its way back to his family on Tyneside, where it ended up (via auction, we think) on display in The Percy Arms pub for several decades. In the 1960s, it was auctioned off again to actor Laurence Harvey, who soon afterwards donated it to the Royal Lancers and Nottinghamshire Yeomanry Museum (where it remains to this day).

[article taken from Newcastle-upon-Tyne: Fragments of the Past, vol.2 (see left-hand column)]

Book Review / Favourite Newcastle Books No.3: 'The Tyne Bridge'

The Tyne Bridge: Icon of North-East England

By Paul Brown

Hurst & Co., London (2022); 253pp + illustrations; £16.99 hardback

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or here (discount code available)

It's not often I get my hands on a new book at the moment it is released onto the market. I usually hang around for a bit until I can get it a bit cheaper a few months down the line (I'm mean like that). However, I was both honoured and delighted to be offered a copy of this excellent tome by the publishers ... and I am pleased to say that it instantly jumps into the pantheon of my 'favourite Newcastle books'!

Surprisingly, perhaps, this is the first history book dedicated to the subject matter in question. With the centenary of the bridge's opening fast approaching (in 2028), author Paul Brown wisely stepped in ahead of the game to produce a fabulous tribute to what is perhaps the region's most recognisable landmark. Pleasingly, it is laid out in strictly chronological order in three distinctive sections: the history of the many and various river crossings on and near the site of the Tyne Bridge; the building of the bridge itself; and, finally, a look at its near 100-year existence at the centre of Geordie life.

Brown's book is very much a celebration. It opens and closes in suitably 'mushy' fashion, which will bring a tear to the eye of any proud Tynesider. And there is nothing wrong with this, for it brings forth a passion often missing from local history writing. But the facts are all there, too - an astonishing amount, in fact. If you thought you knew all there was to know about our great bridge and city, then think again: this work contains hundreds of nuggets plucked from the archives, many, many of which you will not have come across before. There is mention of William Wallace's 'unmentionable part' being put on display in the town after his execution (a fact acknowledgeably taken from Dan Jackson's The Northumbrians); interesting links with the nearby 'Monkey Bar' are explored; and then there's the show-off painter who got the sack for his high-rise acrobatics! And there are many more, including a birth on the bridge, and a plan to blow the structure to smithereens! BTW, you'd do well to check out the copious notes in the back of the book for much additional information.

As you would expect, comparisons are made with the great Sydney Harbour Bridge; and likewise the lesser-known, but related, Hell Gate Bridge, New York. There is also a heck of a lot of biographical information about the individuals and characters involved with the bridge's history in one way or another. Not only do we learn of the men and women who took the bridge from the drawing board to reality, but also of the folk who laboured so dangerously to put the giant real-life Meccano set together. And then there is 'Tommy on the Bridge' - and, of course, the three individuals who lost their lives during the construction work.

Brown's writing style offers a nice balance for both the historical novice and experienced readers alike. He does not try to be overly clever with his phraseology (as some writers are prone to be), nor does he try to show off. There are some nice turns of phrase, and his passion is there for all to see in black and white. Brown clearly loves his home patch, and if you do too, then you'd better get yourself a copy of his book.

And £16.99 for a hardback is pretty good value. I suspect that The Tyne Bridge will sell well this Christmas, and deservedly so.