Newcastle Town. An account of its rise and progress ... With illustrations, etc

Part I

— Introductory. page Chap. 1. — Newcastle and Tyneside ..... 1 2. — General Features of Newcastle .... 8

Part II

— The Walls of Newcastle and the Rise and Extension of the Town. Chap. 1.— The Walls of Pons Elii and Monkchester . . 12 2.— The Walls of William Rufus 18 3.— The Building of the Edwardian Walls . . .25 4. — From Plantagenet to Stuart 28 5. — The Siege of Newcastle ...... 39 6. — King Charles I. in Newcastle .... 51 7. — The Commonwealth Time . . ... 55 8. — From the Restoration to the Accession ofthe House of Hanover ....... 65 9. — The Walls of Newcastle during "the '15" and " the '45 " 69 10. — A Time of Rest and a Time of Awakening . . 76 11.— A Walk Round the Walls- The West Side . . 81 12.— A Walk Round the Walls continued— The Northern, Eastern, and Southern Walls .... 89 FART III. — Newcastle Within the Walls. Chap. l.—St Nicholas' Church 98 2.— The Castle as it was 114 3.— The Castle as it is CONTENTS.

Part III

— Newcastle Within the Walls— Continued. page 4. — Westgate Street and Blackfriars .... 134 5. — Newgate Street 150 6.— Bigg Market 158 7. — Pilgrim Street — the Upper Part .... 164 8.— Pilgrim Street— the Lower Part . . . .180 9.— All Saints' Church 184 10.— Central Newcastle 195 11.— The Side and Dean Street 203 12.— Pandon 212 13.- Pandon— continued 222

Part IV

— Riverside Newcastle. Chap. 1.— The River Tyne : its History . . . .230 2. — The River Tyne : its History — continued . . 241 3.— The Coal Trade of Newcastle 252 4.— The Tyne above Bridge, and "The Close" . . 263 5. — Ambrose Barnes 275 6.— Tyne Bridge 288 7.— Sandhill 299 8.— The Quayside 310 9.— Sandgate and the North Shore . . . .322 10.— The Three Saints 335

Part V

— Newcastle Outside the Walls. Chap. 1.— The Forth and West Side 346 2. — The Castle Leazes and the Town Moor . . . 353 3.— The North Part of the Town 361 4. — Pandon Dene, the Shieldfield, aud West Jesmond . 369 5. — The Ouseburn and Byker ..... 374 6. — The Ouseburn Continued — The Upper Part, with Heaton and Jesmond 380

Part VI

— Conclusion. Chap. 1. — The Trades' Guilds and Mysteries of Newcastle . 389 2. — Of some Notable People of Newcastle . . . 396 3. — Of some Peculiar People of Newcastle . . . 413 4. — Retrospective 422 5. — The Last of Newcastle Town

Chapter I. Newcastle And Tvneside

S the centre and chief port of the great Northern Coal-field, the town of Newcastle-upon-Tyne is known the whole world over. It is only, however, in connection with the coal supply that she is generally known. There is a vague impression abroad that the town is one vast pit-heap, and that the business of the population consists wholly in mining and shipping coal. In this respect Newcastle is like the poet Campbell, who used to complain that no one knew him or spoke of him except as the author of the Pleasures of Hope. Not that he was ashamed of that particular work, but he felt it hard that everything else he had done should be injured and over looked for its sake. Had he never written the Pleasures of Hope, he would still, by virtue of his other works, have been famous. So with Newcastle : had she never shipped a single ton of coal, she has other claims upon the consideration of the world which entitle her to a prominent place in the roll of famous towns.

She has many other industries, any one of which would give her a respectable claim to notability. She has, besides her coal trade, iron works, shipyards, engineering works, chemical works, and a hundred other industries, which make the banks of the Tyne one vast workshop. But putting all these on one side, and looking upon the old town of Newcastle, stripped of her commerce and manu factures, she is still a remarkable place. Towns no more picturesque, and with histories no more romantic, have been thronged by pilgrims in search of the beautiful from all parts of the earth. But none come on such quest to Newcastle. Hard work and utility are her only characteristics in the eyes of the world, and so her beauty is scornfully ignored. She is the very Cinderella of towns. About a hundred years ago (it was in 1778) one Mr. C. T. Middleton published a geography — a standard work in its day — in which appeared a description of Newcastle, part of which we give as follows : — " Newcastle is an ancient, large, disagreeable, and dirty town, but exceedingly populous and very rich.

It is situated at the end of the ancient Picts' wall on the river Tyne, over which it has a fine bridge. The commerce carried on in coals and salmon is amazing, and hath rendered it in great measure the emporium of the north." When this was written Newcastle was one of the loveliest places on the face ofthe earth. Only forty years before — and change was slow in those times — John Wesley said, that were he not journeying towards heaven, he could not wish for a more pleasant abiding-place than Newcastle. So, aster the lapse of a hundred years, which, with their accumulated gifts of factories and smoke, have not tended to improve the air of Tyneside, we can scarcely blame the general opinion ofthe present day for coinciding so nearly with that of the old gazetteer concerning the attributes of the town.

That the air is laden with smoke, and that the buildings are black and grimy, cannot be denied by the greatest of her admirers ; but the charge of dirt and disagreeableness is without foundation. No town in England is kept in cleaner condition, and few can show more agreeable features and more interesting sights, though they often lie hidden from the casual glance of the visitor beneath a murky canopy of smoke. Each nook and corner is alive with reminiscence of old world incident ; on every side you see memorials of the munificence and enterprise of her people ; and in exploring her streets you come upon an endless variety of the most picturesque groupings of architecture — both old and new, both quaintly and grandly beautiful. Many of her ancient monu ments, it is true, have disappeared, her once famous wall is almost gone, her monasteries have been destroyed, her churches despoiled, restored, and altered.

Still she is rich even in the com paratively few remnants which are lest, and which we hope may long be spared as memorials of the old town and " the old time before us." We would wish to give as interesting an account as possible of the rise and progress of Newcastle, of her notable buildings, and of the famous deeds which have been wrought in her in ancient and in modern days. Many things we must perforce mention, which, though of interest to strangers, may seem like to a twice-told tale to the people of the town. Many other matters of great interest to townsmen will doubtless in their relation fall flat upon the ears of strangers ; but there are, we feel convinced, many things in New castle, the description of which cannot fail to give delight to all. Thus, to define the position of the town may to some of our readers appear a work of supererogation ; but we are assured that there are people — and not a few, even in England — who are fully of opinion that it is in Scotland.

This opinion (showing as it does such utter indifference to the importance of the place of his birth) must be our excuse to the dweller in Newcastle for pointing out that the town is at least forty miles from the nearest part of Scotland ; that it is situated on the north bank, and about ten miles above the mouth of the River Tyne ; and that the borough of Gateshead lies opposite it, across the river — occupying in relation to Newcastle the same position which Southwark does to London, and Salford to Manchester. But before proceeding with any description of Newcastle, it will be necessary to give a rapid glance over the valley of the Tyne, of which it forms the great centre and metropolis. The river con stantly flowing past the walls of the town is a great feature in any view we may take of Newcastle.

It was the occasion of her being. It watched her birth, nursed her youth, and still nourishes and vivifies her green old age. To get an adequate idea of Newcastle, we must first have some idea of the Tyne. If you will take a map and look right in the waist and middle of the island of Great Britain, half-way betwixt sea and sea, you will find the little town of Hexham, fondly termed by its inhabitants, we suppose from its central situation, "The Heart of o' England." From the summit of its venerable Abbey Church — the glorious building of St. Wilfrid, in its heyday "the fairest building on this side the Alps " — and, looking west, you may see two rivers which meet together and flow towards you in united strength. These are the North and South Tynes, and their united floods form the Tyne proper, or, to use the quaint words of Newcastle's first historian, "This river hath two heads or maine streams — South Tine, which runs through Allendale, North Tine, which tuns through Tinedale ; they meet at Hexham, and salute one another."

We will follow the course of the Tyne to the sea, now some thirty miles distant. It flows — now deep and still, now rushing with all the wild spirit of its two parents — over pebbly shallows and rocky beds, through a beautiful pastoral valley. Past castles well-known in Border story ; past hamlets, and villages, and little towns — some of them older than Christianity, though now overshadowed by grey church towers. Past " Dilston's pleasant hall," whence the last Earl of Derwentwater rode forth on the adventure which ended for him on Tower Hill ; past Corbridge, where the old Roman built his bridge to cross her widening stream. Past Bywell's ivy-covered walls — seat of Baliol, and Neville, and of Fenwick, so famous in Border song. Past the ancient tower of Ovingham Church, close by which lies Thomas Bewick, who loved so well the river and its valley, and has immortalised them by his genius, and published their beauties far and wide.

Past Prudhoe, towering in rugged majesty upon the opposite bank — once held by Gilbert Umfraville, that kinsman of the Conqueror who was styled " the famous baron, guardian and chief flower of the North, and later of Tailbois, Bedford, and Percy." Then, further east, past the little cottage at Wylam, where was born George Stephenson, the great magician who led the way to mightier works than even the Roman barrier which ran along the tops of that southern bank, and overlooked the place of his birth. Past Newburn ford and the old square church tower, from the top of which Leslie's artillery thundered upon King Charles's army, drawn up just opposite, where you still see traces of their earth works on Stella Haugh. Hitherto her course has been scarcely disturbed save by the angler's rod, or here and there a ferry or a salmon boat ; but now she enters on another phase of her life, and commences her apprentice ship to harder work.

Now keels and wherries begin to dot her surface, and an occasional steamboat churns her waters into foam. Past Blaydon, where the air begins to darken and the landscape to lose its sylvan character ; past Lemington and Scotswood, flows the coaly Tyne. Huge iron ships may now be seen growing into form upon her banks, and here the western outposts of Newcastle may be said to begin. Now from the south she is joined by the waters of the romantic Derwent and the sluggish Teams ; while between them, on the northern bank, lies Elswick, where an army of workmen toil night and day, fashioning mighty weapons of war fare and no less mighty engines for the service of commerce and peace. And now the broad bosom of the river reflects the stately piers of Stephenson's famous bridge, and slowly and lingeringly her dark waters flow past the piled-up buildings of Newcastle — the noblest and proudest of her offspring — the neighbour town of Gateshead on the other bank.

For ten miles further the river flows, and from henceforth her life is one of toil and honour. Beautiful in her upper reaches, flowing amongst the grassy meadows and the dark green woods, she is still beautiful here, bearing on her toil-stained breast the dark hulls of a mighty navy from the furthest ends of the earth, their white sails hanging pure and soft in the smoke-laden sky like the flash of the sea-gull's wing against the grey storm-cloud, or with their tall, bare masts casting zigzag quivering reflections into her brown stream. She runs past iron works, which at night burn out bright and ruddy and fierce, and flush her surface with blood red streaks of light ; and past chemical works, with their elevated chambers, that loom in misty mornings like lordly castles through the murky air.

Past coal staiths, where the black waggons discharge their black loads into the dusky holds of black-hulled ships. Past chimneys innumerable, which belch forth their black smoke, blurring the face of the sky. Past shipyards, where the echoes are kept hard at work, answering the busy ringing hammers which close the iron sides of the growing monsters soon to be launched upon her tide, to carry her name — their nursing mother's name — to every land. Past Wallsend, where the Roman barrier resigned its ground, and trusted the safety of the southern land to the protecting care of the widening river. Past quays where vessels lie in tiers, and where steam cranes puff and blow like fussy little giants at work. Past the Northumberland Docks, where amongst the tangled mass of masts and spars and ropes, the flags of all nations float peacefully side by side.

Now the brown stream changes its colour to a fresh and vivid green, which shows the sea is near, and the river approaches her end. Past Jarrow, where, in the dark ages of ignorance and strife, the Venerable Bede kept alive the only spark of learning and piety which existed in the land ; and where the old grey church still looks upon the broad basin where the Danes have lain at anchor in "the brave days of old," and where now the worn-out hulls of con demned ships, old wooden walls, lie sadly at their last anchorage ; and where the little Don, once a navigable stream for some miles of its course, but now a shallow, silted-up burn, empties itself into the Tyne, close by where the Tyne Dock shows its forest of masts and piles of richly-stored warehouses. Past North Shields, with its mob of shipping, its fleet of fishing boats, its training ship, and piled-up red brick houses.

Past South Shields, where long ago the Roman neglected not to build his fort to guard the river's mouths Past Clifford's Fort upon the northern bank, the ever picturesque Low Lights, and that terrible reef of rocks, the " Black Middens," scene of so many wrecks and of such woful loss of life. Now we are near the end ; the course of the old river is almost run. But not in sadness pass her last moments away. Before she passes out between the piers and joins the German Ocean, her parting gaze rests on the figure of one of her worthiest sons. He stands — most gallant of warriors, most admirable of men — the gentle Collingwood, Nelson's truest friend, and looks over the river he loved in life, as though even in death he would guard her from all foreign foes. The sunlight sparkles on the harbour bar, where river ends and sea begins ; meanwhile, the weather-beaten, though still gloriously beautiful, Priory of Tynemouth looks down from its lofty eminence, as it has done through so many long and busy centuries, upon the Tyne, as it mingles its waters with those of the rough North Sea, and blesses the union.

There is no other river in the world so much beloved by the people who inhabit its valley as is the Tyne ; at least we never hear the dwellers by any other river speak in such terms, and with such pride and endearment, of their own particular stream as the Tyne sider does of his. It is to him the pleasant companion of his youth, and becomes in after years interwoven with the very tissue of his thought. Others love their town, or their village, or the home of their boyhood ; but he does all this, and, besides, regards with affection and veneration his ancient river and all belonging to her. Separated by long years and broad seas from the home of his youth, the very name of the Tyne causes his heart to beat quicker ; the sound of one of her native melodies fills him with rapture ; a Tynesider, stranger though he be, and from what part of the valley soever he comes, is hailed at once by him as a friend and a brother.

The river to him is as the embodiment of some loved mystic being. She is so interwoven in his thoughts and his dreams that she becomes, as it were, part of his individuality. She inspires him with poetic fire, and is the theme of a thousand lays. She is in his song, "my bonny, coaly Tyne." He may see other rivers ; he may admire them ; but it is always with a reservation — the Tyne excels them all. She is, amongst rivers, his first love and his last. But of all the natives of Tyneside the Newcastle man is perhaps the most loving of the sons of Tyne. It is by Newcastle that the Tyne is known to the world at large, and he unites with his love of the river his pride in the town. He knows that the town is the outcome of the river, and the very essence and incarnation of its influence. Others look up to Newcastle as the capital town of Tyneside and the North ; but he belongs to it : he is part of it, and it is part of him.

Apart from the natural love which every man feels for his native place, there is a feeling of affection and reverential familiarity in the heart of the true Newcastle man towards the old town, which is peculiar to the Newcastle man alone. It may be that the situation of the town near the border of a once hostile country has to do with this feeling. In ancient times she was kept constantly on the alert against the attacks of her northern foes, the Scotch. Sufficiently far from the border to gain intelligence of their approach, she was generally able to prepare herself in time to repel their attacks. She was thus never sufficiently familiarised with alien occupation (as she might have been had she been nearer the border) to cause her to become callous and indifferent as to which party held her.

She was always strongly English in her character, and always jealous of permitting a Scot, however canny, or however peaceful his intentions, to dwell within her walls. Had she, on the other hand, been much further from the border, the security which distance gives might have made her indifferent to danger. But her position was just such as to nourish a strong feeling of local pride. Her many discomfitures of the enemy in his attempts to gain possession of her ; the favours bestowed upon her by so many of our monarchs, who recognised her value as a frontier guard ; the important part she played as the great rallying point for the English expeditions against Scotland — all these served to foster and increase this feeling. She looked with a species of patronising disdain upon the more southern cities and towns which were not exposed to the same dangers as herself, and with a pitying though somewhat contemptuous eye upon those to the north, equally or more exposed, though not so capable of self defence.

In later times the extension of her commerce through the working of her coal-fields, and her gradual advance as a seaport, simultaneously with the decay of others once much more important than herself, increased the pride of her townsfolk. The general feeling in this respect, in the reign of George III., is very well expressed in the well-known song called " Canny Newcastle." The term "canny," which has from time immemorial been prefixed by her people to the name ofthe town, expresses, as no other word can, the love, and pride, and familiarity of which we have been speaking, and no other word would express it as well, or, indeed, at all. The song describes a Newcastler's visit to London, and how he compares all the wonders there with those he has lest behind at home ; and certainly Newcastle does not suffer in the comparison.

London, its river, its shipping, its palaces, and its cathedral, must all succumb to Newcastle, with the river Tyne, the coal fleet, the Infirmary, and St. Nicholas' Church. The open-doored hospitality of the North is contrasted with the polite churlishness of the South ; even the fair sex escape not without odious com parisons ; and the very king himself, though allowed to be a " good leukin' mannie," can be easily matched by the king of Newcastle, Sir Matthew White Ridley — that is, always supposing the worthy baronet be decked with a wig of the same dimensions as that of his august brother of England. Each verse appropriately ends with the following vindication of the equality, at least, of the canny toon : — 'Bout Lunnon then divvent ye make sic a rout, There's nous there maw blinkers te dazzle, For a' the fine things ye are gobbin about We can marra iv canny Newcassel."

However it may have originated, the ancient pride of place still exists. Newcastle is still the pride and boast of her people. In those days of centralisation and striving after the reduction of all mankind to one mechanical level, it may be called by some a petty and unworthy local pride. But all history and experience show that he who dearly loves his home and native place, loves not his country the less ; and that the best citizen of the world may, with advantage to himself and all, cherish the memory, and glory in the progress of his birthplace. The affairs of the world are so intimately connected, that he who is solicitous for the welfare of his local habitation thereby benefits the remotest parts ofthe earth. A noble effort, a charitable deed, instigated by what is called petty local pride in the meanest village of England, may have its effect in the deserts of Africa and the steppes of Siberia.

Even now, in these latter days, there is much to nourish the feeling of importance in the Newcastle mind. The town's immense commerce, her ancient renown, the beautiful buildings, old and new, the sense of superiority over all the neighbouring towns, serve to keep it alive. The very avocations of the people tend in the same direction. Theirs is not to furnish the world with toys, fanciful garnishings, and frivolous luxuries. A sterner task it is, and one calling for all the hardy and daring qualities of their ancestors, to ransack the bowels of the earth, and, in the face of danger and death in some of its most horrible forms, to bring forth her buried treasures for the use of man ; and no child's play is it to compel the brittle, stubborn iron into ductility, and frame it into a thousand useful and terrible shapes.

To make of it the stately merchant ship, the swift locomotive, the cunning engines of all kinds, the stable anchor, the mighty warship, and the death-dealing gun — all this is labour for Titans. Again, to manipulate the crude ores and dull clays and earths ; to fuse and roast and put them through a hundred other processes, turning them into metals fit for the use of man — into glass, into bricks, and into the many chemical compounds which form so large a portion of the trade of the port — these tasks call for manly exertion and mighty effort and skill. It is, therefore, not with unpardonable pride that the townsman of Newcastle goes to his book-shelf, and taking down his copy of Gray's Chorographia, published in 1649 — the first history of the town ever printed — reads, perhaps for the hundredth time, the words : " Camden calls Newcastle Ocellus, the eye ofthe north, the harth that warmeth the south parts of this kingdom with fire — an Egypt to all the shires of the north, in time of famine, for bread."

It is not with unpardonable pride that he contrasts her present state with that of nearly three hundred years ago, and considers how much she has increased her claim to the title bestowed upon her by the learned antiquary of Elizabeth's time.

Chapter II. General Features Of Newcastle

Ii is essentially a hilly town. The steep SV^S 1 banks of the river on which it stands are intersected by gyjV' 1 the courses of numerous streams or burns. These burns JSjjaHj are now for the most part covered in, and run hidden beneath the streets, but tbe depressions caused by the valleys or denes they have worn still exist, so that a walk through the town, especially the older parts near the river, consists to a great extent of up hill and down dale. These hills and valleys which we now find so troublesome were originally the very cause which determined the site of the town. The mouths of the little burns were convenient places where the canoes and coracles of ancient fishermen might lie in safety, and from whence they might conveniently sail to pursue their calling. On the sloping banks were snug and sheltered spots to build their dwellings.

The hill-tops, protected by the deep valleys they over looked, would naturally be seized upon and fortified as places of refuge by the people, when others, envious of their cosy situation, strove to oust them from it. Then when the Romans marched thus far north, and saw the natural strength ofthe place, they built their forts upon the sites of the ancient ones. No doubt, following their usual plan, they encouraged the vanquished natives to dwell amongst them, and employed them in the erection of the temples and other buildings which soon ornamented the new station. They built, under the shelter of the castle hill, a bridge, made new roads and improved the old ; and when they built their wall across the island, from sea to sea, Newcastle, or Pons Elii as they called it, was one ofthe principal stations.

After the introduction of Christianity into Roman Britain, the temples of Pons Elii, cleared of the old gods, would doubtless be dedicated to the new faith. Under the Romans the place would increase in importance and riches, and when they were finally obliged to leave, it was an object of great longing to the predatory Picts and Scots of the North. A sad day would that be for the people of Pons Elii when the last Roman soldier marched south over the bridge, and the sails of the last Roman galley disappeared behind the wooded promontory which closed the view of the river to the east. The wealthy station, with its palaces and villas, would be fat spoil for the northern barbarians, and for many years the poor town must have been in sad and desolate plight. Then came the Saxon occupation, and she began to prosper again.

The ruined buildings were rebuilt, and new ones rose thick and fast. Strange mixture of architectural styles would there be in those days, as in ours. Christianity again introduced, our old town speedily, from the number of its religious houses, became known by the name of Monkchester, and her fame as a holy place spread over the whole land. But soon, in the whirligig of time, we find her down again, the Danish fleet in the Tyne, and the town a heap of desolate ruins. Little better she remained for many years, and William the Norman found her poor and bare, and unable to feed the host which followed him to the conquest of the North Country. His quick eye, however, had noted the strength of her hilly situation, and soon a new castle began to rise upon the same hill-top which had borne those of Briton, and Roman, and Saxon.

It was built by Robert Curthose, but his father was, no doubt, the man who ordered its erection. The castle was rebuilt and enlarged by William Rufus, and gave the name of Newcastle to the town which lay under it ; or rather, we may say, the town lost its name altogether in the importance of the fortress. It was Monkchester no more, but the New Castle upon the Tyne; and so it is called to the present day. Besides the castle, Rufus, we are told, built protecting walls around the town. They were probably a slight extension of the old walls of the Roman station. His castle was almost entirely, if not altogether, rebuilt, and the present keep erected by Henry II. The town increased in size, and in the time of the Edwards was encircled by a strong wall, with towers and gateways, and all the contrivances of medieval military skill.