The Romans at Denton

Those of you who endured my ramblings about my relationship with the Roman ruins near my childhood home in volume 1 of The Great North-East may be interested in a little further detail. And those of you who didn't ... well, you may want to at least look at the pictures.

So blasé was, and indeed still is, my attitude to the multiple stretches of Roman Wall in Denton, that I didn't even have any personal photographs of them. So the other day I thought I'd put that right and go have a proper look at the ancient specimens in question. We'll have a look at them east-to-west.

OK, then. Remember that the Roman (or Hadrian's) Wall ran roughly along the course, westwards, out of Newcastle, all the way along the West Road and way beyond. If you begin at the junction where Denton Road / Silver Lonnen meet the West Road, then you will see a petrol station - pretty much on the roundabout. It's a busy little corner of the western suburbs; but have a look on the forecourt and you will see our first little taste of the old frontier, thus:

Yes, that's it. But a few yards further on, on the other side of the neighbouring restaurant, can be found:

Yes, and that does say 'Wonderwall' in the background (deary me). Remember, we're celebrating the 1,900th anniversary of the Wall this year.

Moving on through Denton's shops and beyond the footbridge, you will find an especially interesting section of stonework, known as Denton Hall Turret:

As you can see, this is an especially tempting piece of 'climbing frame' material for kids, and I played my part regularly on this old turret half a century ago (OK, I'm not proud).

Finally, a short walk westward (beyond the big roundabout where the West Road crosses the Western By-Pass) brings you to another long stretch of masonry:

After this point the busy A69 sweeps over the course of the Wall; the foundations of the road no doubt containing several ton of scattered Roman rock. That's it, I think, until you get to an especially impressive section at Heddon-on-the-Wall.

And, yes, I'm afraid I did briefly tread on the Wall at Denton Hall Turret ... just for old times' sake.

Ghosts of Heavenfield

Those of you who know a bit about the history of the North-East of England will be aware of the importance of the battle of Heavenfield. To briefly re-cap, this took place in 633 (or 634) AD at a spot just off the present-day Military Road (B6318) about a mile east of Chollerford, and represented the kingdom of Northumbria's greatest Dark Age moment: the military victory that signalled the start of our 'Golden Age'. Basically, Northumbria, in disarray following King Edwin's death, was rescued from falling into the hands of the pesky pagans to the south by Oswald and his army sweeping down from exile in the north. 

He is supposed to have secured the backing of his Christian god before the encounter, raising a cross around which to rally his troops before the clash. Anyway, we won, and the spot has kind of remained sacred to us ever since. I have previously written about the battle here.

Earlier this year my wife and I drove past the spot in question. On a whim, I asked to her to apply the brakes, and off I scurried across the fields to have a closer look at the church in the distance. Naturally, it's called St.Oswald's.

The view from the roadside, complete with replica cross. Church in distance...

... And close up.

Happily, it was open. So in I crept and had a nose around. It was a sober interior, as you can see:

Nothing fancy.

Now you just never know when you're going to trip over a new piece of historical info. This time I was especially taken by the 'hatchment' hanging upon the wall; and, handily placed nearby was a helpful information sheet which suitably enlightened me as to not only this particular example, but to hatchments in general. Anyway, for no other reason than I found it interesting, I reproduce below two images of the hatchment of St.Oswald's Church and the info sheet provided.

Robert Clarke's hatchment, suitably restored.

(click on image to enlarge)

Then, as I was on my way back to the wife/car I came across one of those mounting blocks, situated just inside the graveyard. Don't you just love 'em?

Anyway, that's all I had time for. The wife was probably getting impatient by now...

Local History: Coincidence & Serendipity

I had wander around the 'Toon' earlier this week. Yes, another one. I like to do so once in a while. Maybe I'm in the city centre for some specific reason and am just looking to fill a couple of hours (hospital appointments usually), or perhaps it's a deliberate ploy - a quest, if you like - for some historical information / photos. 

This time I wanted to check out a few corners of Newcastle which I'd never been to before, but which had popped up on Twitter as possibilities for an interesting 'nose about'. These expeditions always surprise and delight in equal measure. Something unexpected usually turns up, and/or I get pleasantly sidetracked or distracted. 

Anyway, I set off from the Central Station area with my little list of 'to dos', and headed first for the Castle Keep, followed by the Quayside, Ouseburn, City Stadium, Jesmond Dene, then across to the Great North Road and back into town for my bus home. About eight miles, I reckon, in a leisurely four hours.

There were many points of interest, but one stood out - or rather one 'strand' of coincidence/serendipity - which I wasn't aware of until a couple of days later when I followed things up with a bit of research. It began when I was poking around the environs of the Hotel du Vin on the corner of City Road and Ouse Street. Here it is, both in full and the main entrance:

As you can see, the property used to be the HQ of the Tyne-Tees Steam Shipping Co.Ltd. Now I didn't know this, and, to be honest knew nothing about the company in question. Turns out that they were formed in 1903-04 following the amalgamation of four smaller companies (The Tyne Steam Shipping Co.Ltd, The Tees Union Steamship Co.Ltd, The Free Trade Wharf Co.Ltd and Furness Withy & Co.Ltd), and provided shipping services between the UK and continental Europe until 1943, when they were bought out. The brick building which is now a hotel was built specifically to house the new, enlarged, and ever-expanding company in 1908. I didn't know all of this until long after I'd got back home.

Anyway, my circuitous route eventually brought me out at the Blue House Roundabout about two hours later, where I spotted, quite accidentally, this little item, sitting pretty much on the busy junction in question:

Now I'd never noticed this before, so looked for the 'dedication stone', thus:

I thought to myself that there may be a tie in here to the Laing Art Gallery or something. But if there is then it isn't obvious. Turns out that William Laing, quite coincidentally, was a major player in ... The Tyne Steam Shipping Company Co.Ltd (the forerunner of the Tyne-Tees company). In fact, he was, as far as I can tell, the man who jointly founded it (along with William Davies Stephens) in 1864. I really was quite taken aback when I discovered this little trail of coincidences when I was back home sat at my computer.

Nice touch, this, too, for the benefit of the so-called 'dumb animals'. A little ground-level bowl for the canines:

It didn't quite end there, though. As I walked down the Great North Road I came across this little beauty:

(click on image to read text)

Yes, a memorial to W.D.Stephens, pal of the aforementioned William Laing. Again, though, I was totally ignorant of the links until a good two days later.

BTW, the location of both monuments is thought to reflect the men's close involvement with the Temperance Association, and the founding of the Temperance Festival (the 'Hoppings) on the nearby Town Moor in 1882.

So there you have it. Well, I thought it was all rather very neat, anyway.

"Whereivvor Ye Gan Ye’re Sure Te Find a Geordie"

 

A few days ago I paid one of my regular visits to the Lake District for a wander across the fells. My wife and I are trying to bag the 214 Wainwrights, so we're always out there traipsing through the bogs and the varying weather. It is very beautiful, though, as I am sure you well know - if a little 'hairy' at times!

And, not for the first time, we bumped into a pair of Geordies out there, quite in the middle of nowhere. We were ascending Sale Fell, and another couple of fellwalkers were coming down. We exchanged pleasantries, before discovering that we all hailed from 'Geordieland'.

We acted as if we were surprised, but, you know, this seems to happen a heck of a lot. And every time I am reminded of that popular local ditty Whereivvor Ye Gan Ye're Sure Te Find a Geordie. Except this time I decided to follow up my little 'mental prompt' and find out a little more about the song. First of all, though, here it is in full:

WHEREIVVOR YE GAN YE'RE SURE TE FIND A GEORDIE 

By Jack Robson (1885-1957) - pictured above

Whereivvor ye gan ye're sure te find a Geordie 

Whereivvor ye gan ye'll hear the Geordie twang

From Land's End up te John O'Groats

From Galway Bay te Cullercoats 

Ye're sure te meet a Geordie in the thrang.

 

An' if someday you take a trip to London 

Ne need to wear that lost and lonely air 

Sing Blaydon Races doon the Strand 

An' somebody's sure te grab yer hand 

Whereivvor ye gan the Geordie will be there. 

Whereivvor ye gan ye're sure te find a Geordie 

Whereivvor ye gan yer native tongue ye'll hear 

In ivvory place across the sea 

It makes ne odds where it might be 

Ye'll sure to hear a Geordie say 'Wot Cheor'. 

From canny Newcassell, Sunderland or Gatesheed

From Tyne and Wear ye'll meet them ivvorywhere 

There's isn't a spot that ye can name 

But somebody wants the news from yem 

Whereivvor ye gan the Geordie will be there. 

Whereivvor ye gan ye're sure te find a Geordie 

They're scattered aboot in regions hot an' caad 

An' ye can bet a silver croon 

When rockets land upon the Moon 

There'll be a Geordie yellin' 'Keep Ahad'. 

So here's a song me canny lads to cheor ye 

For after aall there's comfort ye can share

That when yer orthly days are past 

And ye hev to leave this warld at last 

Whereivvor ye gan a Geordie will be there. 

Whereivvor ye gan a Geordie will be there.

Whereivvor ye gan a Geordie will be there. 

Glossary: whereivvor - wherever; gan - go; thrang - throng; ne - no; doon - down; ivvory - every; wot cheor - what cheer; canny - fine, nice, pleasant; yem - home; aboot - about; caad - cold; croon - crown; keep ahad - keep a hold, keep a grip; aall - all; orthly - earthly; warld - world.

It is worth pointing out that at the time this song was composed the term 'Geordie' was an all-exclusive term for pretty much the whole of the region - as can be discerned from mention of Sunderland in the lyrics. And when exactly was it written? Well, I'm not sure; but it was used as the theme tune to the popular radio show, Wot Cheor, Geordie. from 1947 to the late 1950s.

As for Jack Robson himself, well, I can do no more than refer you to Roly Veitch's excellent tribute page.

And Roly Veitch himself is also a performer, and can be found singing the grand old song on YouTube. There are two versions, here and here. Enjoy!

Boxers & Seaton Burn

Many of you will be familiar with William Irving’s famous painting of The Blaydon Races. A quick search of the Internet soon brings the well-known canvas into view. In the middle distance on the right-hand side you will see a curious little character known as ‘The Black Diamond of Seaton Burn’. Here he is:

The man in question was, supposedly, a black prize-fighter resident of the Northumberland village – some sources placing him in the eighteenth, others in the nineteenth, century. No amount of research seems to be able to pin this chap down, which has led many to suppose that he may be a fabrication of the artist’s imagination – like so many other of the characters depicted in the famous painting.

But “of Seaton Burn” is really quite specific, others say. Surely such a man must have existed? Maybe they’re right. But maybe he wasn’t black after all. As some of you may know, one of the most famous boxers of all time, Tom Cribb, was also known as ‘The Black Diamond’ on account of his routinely filthy appearance as a coal heaver at Wapping Docks at the turn of the nineteenth century. Now Cribb never lived in the North-East, but there would certainly have been plenty of other pitmen pugilists around at the same time, one or two of whom no doubt borrowed Cribb’s famous nickname.

The debate is an interesting one, as are a couple of other curious little facts regarding (genuinely) black boxers and the town of Seaton Burn.

There’s a local story – a myth, quite possibly – that American Jack Johnson, the reigning world heavyweight champion, was stopped for speeding on the A1/Great North Road at Seaton Burn. No one seems to know when (and even if) this actually happened, but it has been suggested that it would most likely have been in 1911 when he was touring England fighting exhibition bouts, and was known to have visited Newcastle. But speeding ... in 1911?

And then, in July 1977, Muhammad Ali – also world heavyweight champion at the time – stayed at the Holiday Inn, Seaton Burn, during his famous visit to the North-East. I reckon that the establishment was newly-built at the time, though I stand to be corrected. 

In fact, I'm leaving myself open to be put right on any of the above nonsense, to be honest...

[the above is taken from The Great North-East: An English History Tour, Vol.1 - see left-hand column for further details]

Seal of Newcastle-on-Tyne

In 1911, Mitchell's Cigarettes brought out a series of collectors' cards with a decidedly underwhelming theme, entitled simply 'SEALS'. There were 25 cards in the series with Newcastle's effort coming in at No.7. The Latin inscription reads: Commune Sigillum Ville Novicastri Super Tinam ('Common Seal of the Town of Newcastle upon Tyne'). Note how the third word of the motto has been clumsily spread over two folds of the banner. The reverse is shown below.

There's not a lot more I can add, really. But if you're interested to see which towns and cities were included in the series see here. I bought this little item on eBay a couple of years ago, and I'm still not entirely sure what to do with it...

Favourite Newcastle Books No.1: 'Newcastle in 50 Buildings'

If you could hand-pick an individual to put together a book of this nature, it would be difficult to come up with a better suggestion than Mr Steve Ellwood. Sure, there may be better qualified architectural experts out there (or maybe not?), and equally excellent photographers - though I very much doubt there is a more knowledgeable local around to tackle the text itself. 

You see, Ellwood is something of an obsessive when it comes to Newcastle. I'm guessing that architecture is his first love - whether it be the grand buildings and their features or the lesser-known structures and their minor details, Steve's your man. Readers of this blog will be aware that he is always popping up on Twitter and history forums with some obscure fact or observation - and, as I have already told you, he is a keen photographer, too. His general knowledge of Newcastle's history is considerable - so much so, in fact, that he is also a City Guide! 

There will, of course, be those of you who will disagree with his choice of '50 Buildings'. But remember that Newcastle has an astonishing 4,000+ listed buildings, so the task was nigh on impossible. And what the author has tried to do, clearly, is present us with a nice cross-section of old and new, well-known and lesser known - and, indeed, nice and not-so-nice! Though published as recently as 2016, one of the buildings, the Dex Garage, New Bridge Street, has, in fact, already disappeared!

The individual entries are nicely balanced, with a decent dose of technical detail (but not too much) to accompany the layman-friendly text. The 50 total could easily have been 'upped' to two, three or even five hundred, such is the depth of the city's architectural riches. So, er, let's have another volume or three, Steve!

Newcastle in 50 Buildings, by Steve Ellwood, published by Amberley Books, 2016. Can usually be found on Amazon.