The Victoria Tunnel: the Northern Section

Whilst investigating various rabbit-holes on YouTube recently, I came across an interesting video of a trip down the Victoria Tunnel which runs from Spital Tongues down to Ouse Street near the Tyne. But it wasn't about the southern section (which is, of course, open to the public), but instead concerned the northern section - a several hundred metre stretch that is not open to the public. How interesting!

Anyway, as far as I can make out, the chap in question begins the filming at the northern-most part of the tunnel near to Spital Tongues (and where there used to be a manholed entrance - now sealed). He then walks down under Claremont Road to the Hancock Museum entrance (and a little beyond). Fascinating stuff.

The link to the half-hour video can be found here. 

... And if you would like to go to the source of the chap's blog post, then visit here. You will also find a link to his tour of the southern section here, though it is essentially a ghost-hunting exercise (but still really interesting).

As for that northern section, there is also a short Newcastle Evening Chronicle piece, too, on the topic, which can be found here.

What a strange old piece of hidden Newcastle.

I Went to Allenheads ... and it was Closed

Let me explain....

A few days ago I arrived in the Pennine village of Allenheads, after having caught the 688 bus from Hexham. It was a pleasant journey over hill and dale (via such outposts as Sinderhope, Sparty Lea and the much larger Allendale), and I wondered en route whether I'd remember the old place. It must have been many, many years since I'd last been - if I had been at all, that is.

I knew there was a visitor/heritage centre there, so I tried to phone ahead to check that it was open. No luck. I tried another number, which came up on my phone as being the local cafe. Again, no luck. So I just crossed my fingers and hoped for the best.

After alighting at the heart of the village, I didn't recognise a thing. It was very quiet. There, to my right, was the Allenheads Inn, To my left the community centre/library. And straight ahead was what I'd came to see, really: the Armstrong Engine, housed in its very own display centre/building. So I walked in to have a look:

Without spoiling it for you (as I'm sure you'll soon be winging your way there yourself), this contraption was built by the famous industrialist, William Armstrong, for his pal Thomas Sopwith, to provide the necessary hydraulically-powered oomph for his various activities in and around his lead mines. Installed in the 1840s, it was used in Sopwith's saw-milling and ore-crushing tasks, being fed by reservoirs around and about the little town. It is believed to be the last remaining engine of its type in the world.

Well, that's the main thing I came for, but what about the 'Heritage Centre'. I had a poke around the 'community centre/library' without success (the former was empty, and the latter was closed), then realised that I'd be best served following the signs up the road and round the corner. And there it was:

There was no one about, so I gingerly tried the latch. Turns out you just go in, switch on the lights and wander about unaccompanied. Here are a couple of shots of the downstairs smithy's workshop:

And upstairs can be found several cracking displays:

And there are plenty of information boards to fill you in on the village's leadmining past:

Near to the Heritage Centre can be found (down a driveway), the old church (now converted into a private residence):

Then there's the aforementioned Allenheads Inn:

... which was actually closed when I was there. In fact, the local cafe was closed, too, much to the frustration of both myself and several wandering visitors. There was no one around, actually ... which must have been quite a contrast to the leadmining heyday of the village. But as I had another hour to kill before my one-and-only return bus, I had a little wander around and about, thus:

Old mine shaft

The Horse Track entrance to the mine

Sopwith's old mine office building

Allenheads Mineyard

If you decide to call in for yourself, then you can park near to the Armstrong Engine building (just in front of where, below, it says 'No Parking', if you get my meaning). This is pretty much where the bus stops, too:

There's a handy guidebook on the history of the village and its industrial activities in the Heritage Centre. It's free - but do make a donation in the little pot in the smithy's workshop.

All-in-all, a nice trip out. When you visit, hopefully the cafe and/or pub will be open. Better take a bait just in case, though.

Iris Brickfield Park: A Brief History

The casual visitor to this little green oasis in Heaton may well think that the public park is named after a local notable called, well, Iris Brickfield. Well, it is (we think) named after a lady called Iris, but her surname wasn’t Brickfield!

Prior to 1900, the area in question lay unused, being rather soggy and having formerly formed a part of East Heaton Farm. Nearby Middle Pit was worked for some time a little to the west, and it is likely that waste from these workings indicated that the clay lying hereabouts was suitable for brickmaking. So, in 1903, a clay pit with an associated brick- and tile-making operation began, located precisely over the site of the future park. The bricks were used in the construction of many of the surrounding streets in the following decade or so.

The original firm, Standard Brick Company, who had other sites in the area, went into receivership in 1908. The site was taken over by James Frazer, who renamed the operation the Iris Brick Works. Manager John Moorhead ran both the Heaton works and its sister site at Pelaw for 30 years, though operations at Heaton were relatively small-scale – and it was wound down during the Second World War.

In 1945, the site was purchased by the city council and used as a rubbish tip for a few years (handily filling up the clay quarry); after which it was used as a rough recreational ground, until it was properly landscaped in the 1990s. It is now used by locals and nature in equal measure, including an area given over to allotments.

But why ‘Iris’? Occasional references on the internet suggest it was the name of the wife (or daughter) of the owner of the brick works; and there is the odd mention of an ‘Iris Ogilvie’ being involved in the ownership of the Pelaw branch of the works. But searches of genealogical records for the era do not support either claim. Can anyone enlighten me? 

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