Grainger Memorial Fountain

When we talk of Newcastle's historical heart, architecturally-speaking, we often refer to it as 'Grainger Town'. The man in question, Richard Grainger, was the great nineteenth century entrepreneur who ripped the disintegrating, rotting core out of the town, and gave us the neo-classical look and feel of the modern-day city. The majestic sweep of Grey Street is the crowning glory, of course, but there are dozens of other thoroughfares and hundreds of buildings scattered across Newcastle's central square mile that owe their creation to the man and his architect side-kick, John Dobson.

Perhaps, then, Richard Grainger should have a statue in his honour in the city he essentially created. If not atop a column like Earl Grey, but at least something along the lines of the Joseph Cowen monument near Cross House, or the Lord Armstrong affair near The Hancock. Instead, though, hidden in a quiet backwater off Waterloo Street, we have this:

(click on image to enlarge)

And it wasn't as if the locals or their leaders put this modest effort together, it was actually done out of sheer compulsion, thus:

So it was their daughter, Rachel, who saw to it that her parents got the praise they deserved. Presumably it was paid for out of Rachel's estate, too. If it wasn't for her, there'd be NO monument to her dad and his wife. Remarkable. 

Here's a couple of other shots:

It may now sit in sad isolation, but it once enjoyed a more prominent situate at the base of the Stephenson Monument near St.John's Church. Here's an Edwardian shot of the scene as it appeared on an old postcard:

Sources vary, but it seems the monument was moved prior to road 'improvements' in the 1950s. Whether it was moved straight to its Waterloo Street spot at this point, or at some later stage following cold storage, I know not. Perhaps someone out there can help me out on this point.

It's 1892 unveiling did at least make the local press:

The story of the Grainger Memorial Fountain is a sad one. For all Richard Grainger did for the city, the best we can do by way of acknowledgement is a modest pile of granite and an accompanying horse trough stuck away on some seldom-visited backstreet.

In the unlikely event that Newcastle City Council have a few bob to spare at some point in the future they could do worse than throwing up a proper statue to the great man ... and a one for the equally-esteemed John Dobson, too, in fact!

 

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! 😉