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.