The Snug, Crown Posada ... At Last!

(click on image to enlarge)

Those of you who have read my most recent tome, namely, Novocastrian: A Newcastle Memoir, may remember me extolling the virtues of that quaintest (and cutest) of Newcastle pubs, the Crown Posada. I have darkened its doors many times over the past four decades or so, and did so once again on Friday gone with my old pal, Andy.

As we entered (and as always), Andy proffered the optimistic possibility of finding a place in the famous snug. I scoffed in hopeless derision, as I have yet to park my backside in this inviting little corner, despite several decades of trying. It's invariably packed out, and we always have to content ourselves with a spot in the rear bar after having forced our way through the unfeasibly narrow confines of the serving area.

However, to our absolute astonishment, this time we found it almost empty. I instantly instructed my drinking partner to secure a table whilst I went to the bar to snaffle two pints of Warsteiner. On gaining my seat a couple of minutes later I was beside myself with excitement, and even took a few snaps to commemorate the occasion. Above can be seen the view from our seats, looking out over those splendid portraits of Richard Grainger, George Stephenson and William Armstrong. 

Those of you who are familiar with the Crown Posada (and quite possibly even been in the snug yourself) will be aware that overlooking the little spot are two fine Pre-Raphaelite stained glass windows. Now as it was dark outside, my photo didn't come out very well - but here it is anyway:

The scene was marvellously quiet ... until minutes later the peace was broken by a gang of men who seemed to be having a long-awaited (and very boisterous) reunion of some sort. They seemed even more excited than I was to find themselves in the restricted confines of the Crown Posada's beautiful little snug. Perhaps it was a first for them, too.

It's been quite a last couple of years for me. a dream holiday Down Under, the birth of my first grandchild, moving house, and even (shock of shocks) the first major trophy for my footie team for more than 50 years. I think this might have topped them all, though! 😉

The Mystery of the Grey Horse Fortune

Grey Horse Inn, 1828

The Grey Horse Inn was a famous hostelry that once sat in a prominent location facing out onto Newcastle Quayside, where roughly now stand the footings of the Tyne Bridge. It fell victim to the Great Fire of 1854.

However, during one of its many renovations, in June 1815, its cellar was cleared of many decades’-worth of accumulated rubbish and dumped in a brick-yard near Shieldfield. Almost immediately local children pounced on their new playground attraction and began ferreting around to see what they could find. And they started picking up guineas, here, there and everywhere. As word spread, more and more folk arrived to join the scramble, and the money just kept turning up.

The cartman who had dumped the rubbish, hearing of the good fortune of so many, recollected that he had taken some of the material to another brick-yard near New Bridge Street. So off he snuck, and was soon richly rewarded. But then this site, too, became overrun with people, young and old. One girl was said to have found 22 of the gold coins – but they all dated from the 1750s to the 1770s. So how exactly did they get there, among the years’-old debris in the cellar of the Grey Horse Inn?

Some of the older folk half-remembered a story from the 1770s that a traveller was robbed in the Grey Horse, and that the thief, a servant, had hid the plunder in the cellar and not been able to ever retrieve it. Others reported that a landlord of the pub had said on his death-bed that he was worth a considerable fortune – but which afterwards could not be found….

[Source: Richardson’s Local Historian’s Table Book, vol.3, 1843]

Article taken from Newcastle-upon-Tyne: Fragments of the Past, vol.3.

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?