Barclays & Backhouses (NZ288146)

Barclays Bank, Darlington

© Karenjc and licensed under the
 Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported 
license (see here).

Quakers have played a very important role in the history of Darlington and its environs – and at a time when they were barred from political life, universities, the judiciary and a whole host of other roles in society. Being forced into their own businesses, they often found themselves acting as our bankers, financiers and industrialists – with startling results.

One such tale is the rise of the mighty Barclays Bank, which can trace a substantial portion of its roots to the town of Darlington. James Backhouse, a wealthy Quaker flax dresser and linen manufacturer, set up Backhouse’s Bank in the town in 1774 – originally as a sideline to his main business (from the 1750s), then subsequently as an entity in its own right. As the Industrial Revolution took hold in the years following this bold move, the institution grew, too – essentially bankrolling the growth of the railways and related industries of the area (most notably financing the Stockton & Darlington Railway).

James’s sons, Jonathan and James Jnr, helped and then succeeded their father; and in turn Jonathan’s son (another Jonathan) took over. The next generation (Edmund) took things even further; to be followed by his son, Sir Jonathan Backhouse – under whose guidance the bank merged with Gurney’s Bank of Norwich and the existing Barclays of London in 1896 to form the nationwide monster that we now know as Barclays Bank. At the time of the merger of these institutions – all of them Quaker-run – there were 20 Backhouse branches across the region, and this northern powerhouse was one of the lead banks in the amalgamation.

Interestingly, the Backhouse and Barclay families even intermarried. Alfred Backhouse, who for a time ran the HQ of the Backhouse empire from what is now the Barclays Bank building in High Row, Darlington, married Rachel Barclay in 1851. The couple, who were extremely wealthy, were pioneers of public health, helping to establish two hospitals in the town. Similarly, Alfred’s nephew, James Edward, also married into the Barclay family.

Many of the above named individuals are buried in the Quaker (Friends) Burial Ground in the town.

Derwentcote Steel Furnace (NZ130566)

© Copyright Helen Wilkinson and licensed for reuse 

under this Creative Commons Licence.

Close by the banks of the River Derwent near the village of Hamsterley Mill can be found a rather important relic of the Industrial Revolution: the Derwentcote Steel Furnace. It is the oldest and best example of its type remaining in the world – a cementation furnace which turned wrought iron into high grade steel.

Of the remains that can be seen today on the site, the oldest parts date to at least as early as 1719; and the plant remained in use until 1891 when a more advanced form of steel production was developed. As for Derwentcote, it began as a forge (and mill) around 1719, with the furnace added c.1733. Various storage buildings were then added as the complex hit full pelt. Iron would be imported from Sweden, via the Derwent, and handy local resources (charcoal, coal, clay and sandstone) made it a perfect spot for its intended purpose.

The cementation process involved layering bands of iron bars and charcoal powder in the central cone. A fire was lit and the temperature raised to about 1,100°C in the sealed chambers, causing the carbon from the charcoal to diffuse into the iron. The whole process – including the cooling period – took three weeks, and produced 10 tons of ‘blister’ steel. The steel was then taken to the water-powered forge to be made into items such as tools – steel, of course, being preferable to iron due to its combined strength and flexibility.

For a time Derwentcote and the Derwent Valley were the epicentre of the British steel industry, but progress eventually overtook it. After it fell out of use the building endured a century of slow decline – until English Heritage restored it in 1990.

Currently an archaeological programme of investigation is examining a nearby row of ruinous cottages thought to have been occupied by the families of the furnace workers.

The King’s Meadows (NZ230628)

(taken from http://www.newcastle-arts-centre.co.uk/r-kings_meadows.htm - copyright unknown)

The steady uninterrupted flow of the River Tyne – both its general sea-ward course and the ebb and flood of its tidal stretch – has not always been as stable and balanced. There was a time when its banks angled gently into relatively shallow depths, its bends choked with silt rendering passage difficult for all but the smallest of vessels.

As the Industrial Revolution gathered pace in the Victorian era, though, Tyneside’s industrialists began to worry about access to their growing network of factories and shipyards. The river needed to be cleared of all encumbrances … and that meant a major programme of dredging. So, in 1850, the Tyne Improvement Commission was established.

The TIC improved and maintained the river – and the Port of Tyne as a whole – for more than a century. Navigation of the waterway for the industries of Tyneside was made a good deal better and helped make the region the powerhouse in became in the latter half of the 19^th century. Of the many straightening and clearance works that were carried out in this period the most famous was perhaps the removal of the river’s most prominent island, the King’s Meadows.

This long, thin landmass extended some 2,000m in the middle of the Tyne between the villages of Dunston to the south and Elswick to the north. It amounted to some 30 acres and even had its own pub, the Countess of Coventry, whose landlady grazed cattle on the island which produced milk for the locals. Occasionally, horse racing meetings and regattas would be held on and around this little sliver of dry land – all served by a ferry service.

But the march of Victorian industry showed no sentiment toward the famous landmark, and it was eaten away by one of the new-fangled steam dredgers in the late 1870s. Nearby Clarence and George Islands (also known as Annie and Little Annie) were also swept from the riverscape, and the region lost a little more of its old-fashioned charm. But at least the businessmen were happy.

Norton’s Quakers (NZ446221)

© Copyright Carol Rose and licensed for reuse under this Creative Commons Licence

The first Quaker Meeting House proper to be built in the settlement of Norton was on the site of the current affair in the year 1671. Much altered over the years, the present structure dates from 1903 when it was rebuilt in the style of the original building.

What is remarkable, though, is how the religious body itself has managed to survive at all. Whilst some sources refer to the town’s ‘comparatively peaceful history’, the Quakers have suffered anything but a quiet existence there. Born around the time of the English Civil War, the Quaker movement made enemies of both Roundhead and Royalist alike – though the former tolerated them due to Quaker sympathies among their foot soldiers.

On the Restoration in 1660, there was a severe clamp-down on the activities of the ‘obstinate men and women’ of the parish ‘who would not let down their conventicles’. King Charles II sent a party north to root out the Quakers – one Simon Townsend having his house taken (the site of the alleged activities of the dissenters). Townsend and several others were severely punished, with the period of oppression in and around the town continuing deep into the 1660s.

The record books are peppered with cases brought against the peace-loving ‘Society of Friends’ groups of this period. At the very height of the oppression, the Norton group built their first ‘official’ Meeting House on the village green in 1671. Massive fines, transportation and the like continued for those openly flouting the obligation to attend ‘national services’ in favour of their own religious gatherings, but the Quakers hung on until the ‘freer’ days following Charles II’s death in 1685. Though, in fact, an Act was passed against them as late as 1687 barring them from entry into many professions, they laid low thereafter, concentrating on social and industrial endeavours to stunning effect through the Industrial Revolution and beyond.

More information here.

Cargo Fleet (NZ517207)

The Teesside conurbation is famous for its extraordinary Victorian growth, but that is not to say there was nothing in the vicinity before the Industrial Revolution.  One of many modest settlements along the course of the old river in the days before the masses arrived was Cargo Fleet, a name which can still be found amidst Middlesbrough’s surburbia.

It sat (and indeed still does) on the outside bend of the River Tees little more than a mile to the east of the present-day Middlesbrough Railway Station.  Historical sources place its habitable history back at least as far at medieval times, when it was a little fishing village known as Kaldecotes (a name which is Anglo-Saxon for ‘the cold-shelter cottages’) located where the Marton and Ormesby Becks joined the Tees.

In time, its name became corrupted to ‘Cawker’, ‘Caudgatefleet’, and then ‘Cargo Fleet’ – or so the story goes.  Though it seems more likely that the ‘Cargo’ element came from settlement’s role as an off-loading point for large vessels during the 18^th and 19^th centuries, when cargo would be transferred to smaller boats for onward journey.  Additionally, two-thirds of Middlesbrough’s exports at one time passed through its busy little harbour.  Old maps show that it was at this time also know as Cleveland Port – indeed both names are shown on the 1856 OS map.  ‘Fleet’, in case you’re wondering, comes from the Anglo-Saxon fleot, meaning ‘stream’.

As industry saturated the area, Cargo Fleet lost its sense of isolation and identity.  As the years passed it came to be known, unofficially, as ‘Claggy Foot’, presumably on account of its muddy expanses. 

That last bit is just a guess.

The Genealogist - UK census, BMDs and more online

Bedlington’s Place in Railway History (NZ276820)

The history of Bedlington Iron & Engine Works is a complex, detailed – if surprisingly short – one. However, it played an absolutely crucial role in the development of the railways. Sited on the tidal limit of the River Blyth, either side of Furnace Bridge, they were at the very forefront of the Industrial Revolution here in the North-East.

Ironworking probably began in this little rural corner of the region in the 1730s. Its progress was somewhat chequered, however, and it was not until Biddulph, Gordon and Co. took over the enterprise in the early nineteenth century that things really began to take off. The company ran the site for fifty years as the ‘Bedlington Iron & Engine Works’, exploiting the existent facilities to maximum effect with the dawning of the age of steam.

It was the invention (and patenting) of cleverly-designed malleable rails for the railways in 1820 at Bedlington by John Birkenshaw which brought the works into the limelight. This development – and the process by which they could be manufactured cheaply and in high quantities – enabled the laying of long lengths of rail, and greatly facilitated the birth and expansion of the new industry in the 1830s and 40s.

In the 1850s, rail production and forgings were at their peak as the Crimean War effort was in full swing. Additionally, between 1837 and 1852, around 150 steam engines were manufactured – including many for George Stephenson. However, it wasn’t to last. Competition from the likes of Middlesbrough forced the works out of the market in 1867, remnants of the site falling into gradual decay until the plot was cleared in 1959. Virtually nothing of this important piece of North-East history remains visible today.

For more information see here.