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.

Newcastle's Old 'Red Light District'

The thoroughfare now known as Pandon has been modernised beyond recognition in recent years. It is the short street a little to the north-west of the Milk Market area, home to several multi-storey car parks and a selection of up-market eateries. But the course of the road – formerly known as Pandon Street – goes back a long way. Around the time of Mackenzie’s 1827 history of the town, though, it seems to have been going through a rough patch...

Pandon Street leads from the foot of the Wall Knoll, eastward, to the head of Coxon’s Chare. It is a narrow, winding, dirty street, and appears to have been called, in old times, Crosswell-gate. According to tradition, the opulent, pious, and munificent Roger Thornton lived in this street; though now it is generally shunned by respectable people, not only on account of the dirtiness of the passage, but as being inhabited by many of those coarse and impudent wenches, called, in these refined times, Cyprian nymphs, who subsist by administering to the gross appetites of those who are unfortunately strangers to the exquisite pleasures arising from a correct and refined taste, and blind to the disgrace, pain, and disappointment which result from deviating from the smooth paths of moral rectitude.

As you can imagine, such areas of ill repute were many, varied and prone to ‘wander’ over time. Previously, Mackenzie pointed out, it was the narrow chares a few yards to the west of Pandon Street which played host to the ladies of the night. Roughly speaking, Plumber Chare ran along what is now King Street (that’s the one offering the classic view of All Saints’ Church from the Quayside) ...

Plumber Chare was noted, a few years ago, as the receptacle of Cyprian nymphs, whose blandishments were of the most coarse and vulgar description. Indeed, most of these dark lanes were inhabited by “very dangerous, though not very tempting females.” But the character of these lanes has been much altered in late years; most of the dwelling houses having been converted into granaries, warehouses, maltings, breweries, etc.

[article taken from Newcastle-upon-Tyne: Fragments of the Past, vol.1 (see left-hand column)]

Mackenzie & his 1827 History of Newcastle

Eneas Mackenzie's A Descriptive and Historical Account of the Town and County of Newcastle-upon-Tyne, including the Borough of Gateshead is one of the most important works pertaining to Newcastle's history that has ever been published. It hit the shelves in 1827, and is most commonly found in this 2vols-in-1 format. 

I say 'commonly', but it is not very often you get a chance to buy a copy of one of the first editions ... but I managed to snag one the other day off eBay. I couldn't believe it when it popped up in one of my searches, thus:

A two volume work bound as one volume. 760 pages, measures 28 x 23 x 6 cms, approximately. Has all the plates present and in-text vignettes. An ex-library copy that has been reset in its binding. Has library stamps to front and rear end-papers and to the title-page. Has been well read with tears to some pages, foxing and handling and age-related marks. The boards are rubbed and worn to the edges.

Tell you what, though, it's a cracking copy, and a bargain at £45+p&p. It's the sort of thing that local history fans like me just love to lay our hands on. When I unpacked it and laid it on my office desk, I set about a quick gander. I'm sure I was just beginning to salivate over the musty old pages when my wife walked in on me. It was like being caught looking at porn. I hadn't intended to tell her about my 'illicit' purchase, and my actions took some explaining I can tell you. In actual fact, and despite my enthusiasm for the 'real thing', the book is readily available online to download as a 'Google Book'. But there's nothing like a 1827 first edition, is there? I mean, howay, man, just look at it!

Mackenzie himself was born in 1778 in Aberdeenshire. His family moved to Newcastle when he was three, and he at first seemed destined to become a shoemaker like his father. He became a baptist minister, and briefly tried his hand in business as a broker at Sunderland. He soon returned to Newcastle, opened a school, then changed his mind again, becoming a printer and publisher. After a distinguished career in this line of work, Mackenzie was to fall victim to the cholera epidemic of 1831-32, being one of several hundred to die in Newcastle during the outbreak*. He died on 21st February 1832 "after a few hours' illness" and was buried in Westgate Hill Cemetery.

1832 was also the year of the Great Reform Act, which received royal assent on 7th June. Mackenzie was especially well-known at the time of his death in so much as he was a big supporter of the campaign for electoral reform, even appearing as a speaker at a 50,000-strong demonstration on the Town Moor in October 1831. Mackenzie was instrumental in founding Newcastle’s Mechanics’ Institute, where his bust is preserved.

So there you have it, my new prized possession. And just to top it off, tucked inside the tome was this nice note from the seller:

*The UK’s cholera epidemic of 1831-32 began, in fact, in Sunderland in October 1831, before spreading nationwide. It was brought to these shores by a ship carrying infected sailors.