Birth of the Team Valley Trading Estate (NZ245599)

Such was the state of both the region’s economy and its industry in the 1930s that Stanley Baldwin’s Tory-led National Government (1935-37) took pity on the area, and decided to site Europe’s first purpose-built industrial estate near Gateshead. The huge concern that was the resultant Team Valley Trading Estate proved to be a resounding success, and still flourishes today.

Unlike the present-day, once the decision was made they didn’t mess about. The largely rural banks of the River Team were quickly surveyed over an intense eight-week period during July-September 1936, and the contract for the laying of the infrastructure awarded to George Wimpey & Co. in October (for £80,000 – around £4 million in today’s money). Work began on 6^th November that very same year.

The contract stipulated that the first factory should be opened within 11 months – and it was. In October 1937, Orrell and Brewster Ltd, haulage contractors, moved into the first factory to be opened on the estate. Subsequent demand for units was much greater than anticipated, and within a few more months over 70 factories had been built, opened and let. More than 7,000 much-needed jobs were up for grabs.

On 22^nd February 1939, King George VI and Queen Elizabeth travelled north to formally open the Team Valley Trading Estate. More than 500 folk turned up for the occasion, and a commemorative plaque was unveiled.

And the site has never looked back since. Now more than 700 businesses employ over 20,000 workers. It is truly one of the North-East’s great success stories.

Some fabulous images here (note: one or two of the dates quoted in the captions are slightly inaccurate).

Bell Pits of Street Gate (NZ210592)

A little to the east of Sunniside, scattered liberally over the junction of the A692 and Pennyfine Road, lies the small community known as Street Gate. Wood- and meadow-land lie strewn hereabouts, and in a patch of land betwixt the village and its larger neighbour to the west was recently found the remnants of two old bell-pits.

Bell-pits, as I am sure many of you will know, are relics of the earliest days of mining – coalmining, of course, in this case – dating back to the 14^th-17th centuries. Basically, a gang of prospectors would sink a simple shaft into the ground where they had reason to believe there was coal to be found, then they would gradually mine out a small underground room and hoist the black stuff to the surface by basket. When the bell-shaped pit assumed dangerous proportions, they would simply abandon it and move down-seam by sinking another shaft a few dozen yards away. They would back-fill the old pit with the earth taken from the new one.

In the centuries that followed mining techniques developed considerably, of course. But odd remnants of the bell-pit system remain dotted around the region – and two such shafts were unearthed here at Street Gate by the Woodland Trust during deep ploughing work when they were preparing to lay a wild flower meadow. Two circular ‘gaps’ in the underlying boulder clay were noticed (each about six metres across), and investigative work revealed them to be evidence of our most basic of early industrial activity.

Studies of old maps pinned the dates down to at least as early as the 1630s, but such activity would most likely have stretched back in the area to perhaps the 14^th century. Such was the significance of the discovery that it was decided to launch a campaign to mark the spot in some way, and in October 2007 the revamped site together with a plaque/plinth was officially unveiled amidst great pomp and ceremony.

The full story (with lots of pics) can be found here.

Why not come along to...

The National Family History Fair

NEWCASTLE-UPON-TYNE

Saturday 7th September 2013

Heady Days at Ravensworth Castle (NZ233591)

© Copyright johntollitt and licensed for reuse under this Creative CommonsLicence.

There isn’t much left of Ravensworth Castle. This once grand mansion near to Gateshead’s Team Valley was demolished / deteriorated during the mid-twentieth century, leaving only a few outbuildings and odd pieces of masonry intact. For centuries it was the home of the multi-titled Liddell family, eventually falling victim to mining subsidence. 

It had known great days, however. Most notable of these were two great events which took place in the first half of the nineteenth century. Firstly, in October 1827, it was visitied by the Duke of Wellington during a high profile national tour. Fine enough, one might think, but at the behest of host Lord Ravensworth the equally famous Sir Walter Scott was also invited to Ravensworth – the two great men staying at the castle for a few short days.

The Duke’s opinion of the stately pile do not seem to have been recorded, but Scott’s diary reveals a few pointed thoughts. After returning to Ravensworth from a banquet at Durham Castle in the early hours of 4^th October, he records:

Slept till nigh ten; fatigued by our toils of yesterday, and the unwonted late hours. Still too early for this Castle of Indolence, for I found few of last night’s party yet appearing.

The next day he describes a quiet day, followed by an evening with…

… plenty of fine music with heart as well as voice and instrument…. The Miss Liddells and Miss Barrington sang “The Campbells are coming’ in a tone that might have waked the dead.

Lord Ravensworth’s reputation as a host was further cemented by an even grander gathering in October 1842 on the occasion of his grandson’s 21^st birthday. Around 500 distinguished guests from home and abroad were invited, including the Archduke of Austria, together with dozens of lords, ladies, earls and barons. Most of the aristocracy from the northern counties were there, it seems. It must have been a sumptuous occasion.

All a far, far cry from the sad sight of today.

Why not come along to...

The National Family History Fair

NEWCASTLE-UPON-TYNE

Saturday 7th September 2013

Wrekenton: Named by a Historian! (NZ274590)

You don’t have to look far into the history of Wrekenton to discover that it appears to have been named by a historian. The famous antiquarian, Rev John Hodgson – he of the History of Northumberland fame – is said to have manufactured the word. He wrote, “After the enclosure of the common (in 1822), Mr Watson, of Warburton Place, Carrhill, founded a considerable village at this place, which, at my suggestion, he called Wrekenton.”

Hodgson created the word from the nearby Roman road, the Wrekendyke, which runs from this spot all the way to South Shields. Thus, ‘Wrenken-ton’ means ‘the homestead by the Wrekendyke’. Clever, eh? And so antiquarian-like!

‘Wrekendyke’ itself is an Anglo-Saxon word derived from the Old English wraecca, meaning ‘fugitive, or criminal’. So we have ‘the fugitive’s ditch/dyke’. We can just about recognise the old term in the modern word ‘wretch’.

It is possible that a Roman fort sat hereabouts, too – perhaps on the local golf course – but no trace of any such structure has yet been found.

Why not come along to...

The National Family History Fair

NEWCASTLE-UPON-TYNE

Saturday 7th September 2013

The Bowes Railway (NZ285589)

Many people don’t realise it, but the width of railway tracks around the world vary. The distance between the inside edges of the rails of any railway track is called the ‘gauge’, and the gap in the UK (and across most of the world) is 4ft 8 ½ in, or 1,435mm. It is called the Stephenson Gauge, after the famous George.

The Bowes Railway Museum near Springwell, Gateshead, has preserved amongst its many bits and pieces, stretches of this Stephenson Gauge – which, amazingly, date back to 1826. It is, in fact, the only surviving operational Stephenson Gauge cable railway system in the world.

The small site maintained by the museum is only a part of the bigger whole – this being the complex operation of getting coal from the Durham pits to the River Tyne. This particular stretch of cable railway hauled wagons up from Black Fell (just north of Birtley) to what we now know as the heights of Eighton Banks (Blackham’s Hill), then down again to Springwell village. The ‘hauler house’ controlled both ascents/descents from the highest point at Blackham’s Hill, and used rope to move the equipment in question.

The network around Springwell came to be called the Bowes Railway after prominent local mineowner John Bowes. Construction commenced in 1826 and continued in fits and starts until the 1850s. Incredibly, it continued working, essentially unchanged, until 1974 – testimony to the efficiency of the system. The present hauler uses electric power instead of steam, and the wagons were originally of the distinctive ‘chaldrons’ variety, but wooden and steel wagons eventually took over.

The present-day museum includes resident steam and diesel locos, a historic wagon collection, mining displays, an underground loco collection, as well as engineering workshops. Guided tours and special ‘operating days’ can also be enjoyed.

There’s a nice description, map and pics here. The whole railway, including the buildings, machinery and rolling stock, is now a Scheduled Ancient Monument.

Why not come along to...

The National Family History Fair

NEWCASTLE-UPON-TYNE

Saturday 7th September 2013

Blaec: Lost Hero of the North? (NZ283581)

On a small prominence at roughly the spot where the Bowes Railway meets the southern-most extremity of Eighton Banks lies, possibly, the burial site of a once mighty Anglo-Saxon warrior. For centuries known as Blackham, or Blackim, Hill, the nondescript piece of wasteland may well be the final resting place of Blaec, a warlord who seems at one time to have held sway over a rather large tract of what we now know as County Durham during the Dark Ages.

The word Blackham/Blackim (Hill) is derived, it is argued, from the Anglo-Saxon word blaecen, meaning ‘of Blaec’ or ‘belonging to Blaec’ – hence ‘Black’s Hill’. And until the Victorian times it seems that there existed a legend that a mighty warrior of this name was buried there. Texts mention the persistent rumour until as late as the 1880s … but nothing much seems to have trickled down to the present.

Despite its twentieth century fall from grace, the land hereabouts has given up signs of ancient human activity – most notably between the wars when shards of worked flint dating back to the Mesolithic age were found. It’s a prominent spot in the landscape, and it stands to reason that humans would have made use of the site through the centuries. Iron Age activity/settlement is certainly likely, the Romans passed by this way … so why not the Anglo-Saxons, too?

No one has any solid evidence as to who this Blaec chap may have been – or even when he lived. It can only be speculated that he rose to prominence during the yawning gap that is 400-1066AD – most likely after Northumbria’s ‘Golden Age’, which ended in the mid-eighth century. So we’re talking about 750-1000AD.

And evidence from maps suggests that his area of influence may have been substantial. One thirteenth century cartographer marked a huge inland tract of land stretching from the Tyne to the Humber as ‘Blachamoz’ – ‘the settlement of the people of Black’. Yet the question remains: if he existed, why was this man excluded from the royal lineages of Dark Age Northumbria? Perhaps he was just a very powerful, non-royal upstart.

Or is it all some woolly North Country myth?

More fascinating reading can be found at www.washingtonlass.com/BlackhamHill.html .

Why not come along to...

The National Family History Fair

NEWCASTLE-UPON-TYNE

Saturday 7th September 2013

The Angel of the North (NZ263578)

© Copyright Keith Evans and licensed for reuse 

under this Creative Commons Licence.

Date completed: 1998

Commissioned by: Gateshead Council

Artist: Antony Gormley

Made by: Hartlepool Steel Fabrications Ltd

Cost: £800,000+ (National Lottery)

Construction: Steel, with some copper

Height: 65ft

Wingspan: 175ft

Weight: 208 tonnes

Foundations: 22m deep reinforced concrete piles

… And seen by 33 million people per year!

Why not come along to...

The National Family History Fair

NEWCASTLE-UPON-TYNE

Saturday 7th September 2013

The Ravensworth Arms, Lamesley (NZ250577)

© Copyright Alexander P Kapp and licensed for reuse under this Creative Commons Licence.

The Ravensworth Arms pub in the tiny village of Lamesley, a little to the south of the Team Valley Trading Estate, has connected to it two rather significant literary stories. The detail is brief, sketchy and may never be provable one way or the other, but the ‘facts’ are remarkable none the less.

We have come across the great Catherine Cookson before on this blog. Well, it transpires that had it not been for a chance encounter at our drinking hole in Lamesley, the literary world would never have been blessed with the storytelling skills of our famous Dame. For though Cookson was born in Tyne Dock, she was actually conceived during a fling between her unmarried mother, Kate McMullen, and one of the punters of The Ravensworth Arms. Kate just happened to be working there at the time (in late 1905), when in walked the shady Alexander Davies – about whom very little is known – for a brief, but very productive, encounter. Davies is supposed to have been a fairly well-to-do native of Lancashire – and a bigamist and gambler by some accounts – but he soon disappeared from Catherine’s life – probably before she was born, in fact.

Even less is known about the other ‘writing link’ of note. It seems that around four decades or so beforehand, the soon-to-be-famous Lewis Carroll had stayed at the pub for a spell. Not so remarkable you may think, but it is believed that he was working on his ‘Alice’ adventures at the time – enabling The Ravensworth Arms, Lamesley, to claim another notch on its literary bedpost.

Washington’s Tenuous US Links (NZ310566)

© Copyright David Dixon and licensed for reuse under this Creative Commons Licence.

The town of Washington enjoys an elevated status in the annals of history for obvious and very well known reasons: its ‘Old Hall’ is the ancestral home of George Washington, a rather important eighteenth century American. But even the most devoted local would be forced to admit that their town’s claim to fame is a tenuous one.

The ancestry of America’s first president does indeed stretch back to Washington Old Hall – or at least to the building which formerly occupied the site. But the big ‘clincher’ for most interested parties – including the many visiting American tourists – is, of course, the name. There’s no denying, however, that the gap between the last of the family to bear the name who lived at the hall and the birth of George himself is a very large one indeed.

It is with one William de Hertburne – a direct forebear of George – that the story begins. William it was who moved from Hartburn, near Stockton, to the area then known as ‘Wessyngtonlands’ in the twelfth century when he rented lands there from the Bishop of Durham. He then changed his name to William de Wessyngton, which in time came to be spelt ‘Washington’.

The Washington family line of the future president seems quite quickly to have angled off elsewhere. In 1367 they migrated, first, to Lancashire; then Sulgrave Manor, Northamptonshire, from 1539. The family subsequently made its home in Essex, then Yorkshire, and finally, in 1656, they emigrated to the American colonies.

So, as far as I can tell, the last direct male ancestor of George Washington’s to live in the town in Co.Durham that bears his name did so in the fourteenth century – and George wasn’t born until 1732. Though other branches of the family hung on in the North-East, the hall/estate passed through several hands before being sold back to the Bishop of Durham in 1613, and thereafter rebuilt on its original foundations.

Why not come along to...

The National Family History Fair

NEWCASTLE-UPON-TYNE

Saturday 7th September 2013

The Great Gertrude Bell (NZ311564)

One individual more than any other helped spread British influence and drive its foreign policy in the Middle East in the early twentieth century. Moreover, that individual was a single, unmarried woman … and she was born here in the North-East of England. Her name was Gertrude Margaret Lowthian Bell.

Born at Washington Hall (now known as Dame Margaret Hall), a little to the south of Washington Old Hall, Gertrude entered this world in July 1868. She was the daughter of a well-to-do family whose general wealth enabled her to indulge her passions and interests across the globe to considerable effect. Although her mother died when she was three, she enjoyed a privileged upbringing and graduated from Oxford University before she was 20.

Thanks to her family contacts, she was afforded the opportunity of an early visit to Persia in 1892 – and stayed overseas for a decade, travelling widely and writing profusely. She was passionately interested in history, archaeology and languages – dabbling, too, in mountaineering – and began spending more and more time in Syria and Palestine in the years immediately before the First World War. The delights of the Ottoman Empire, Mesopotamia, Arabia, Babylon and many other exotic places were also devoured by her insatiable appetite for knowledge.

She served with the Red Cross in France in the early stages of World War I, before returning to the Middle East, where the British government used her in an official capacity to help shape and build their imperial ambitions. Her knowledge and relationships with local tribesmen paved the way for many a British success in their international manoeuvrings with the Arab nations. Gertrude worked periodically alongside the famous T.E.Lawrence during this period – essentially as a spy during hostilities.

From 1915 until her death in 1926, Bell spent most of her days in the country now known as Iraq, helping to establish its borders (among other things). For several years leading up to her death in Baghdad, she served in the Iraq British High Commission advisory group and was a confidante of King Faisal. She effectively acted as a mediator between the burgeoning Arab government in Iraq and the British government (who were keen to see Iraq established as a self-governing state). She was awarded a CBE for her considerable efforts in the region over many years.

In addition to all of this, Bell did much to preserve the new Iraq’s heritage and culture, thanks to her interest in archaeology and history. The setting up of the National Library of Iraq and the Iraqi Museum were largely down to her. The strain of her workload made her frail, and she eventually died, aged 57, soon after a bout of pleurisy in July 1926 – possibly from an overdose of sleeping pills. She may or may not have committed suicide. Such was her reputation that her funeral in the Iraqi capital was a major public event.

It is fair to say that the lines Gertrude Bell helped to draw in the sands of the Middle East during the creation of Iraq (and Jordan, in fact) have indirectly led to the troubles of late in the region. But Bell herself certainly foresaw these problems, and made the best of what may be considered an almost impossible job. In fact, if others since had been blessed with the diplomatic skills of the frail little spinster from Washington, Co.Durham, then things may have panned out a good deal better in this tender part of the world. 

Why not come along to...

The National Family History Fair

NEWCASTLE-UPON-TYNE

Saturday 7th September 2013

Penshaw Monument (NZ334544)

(from Wikipedia)

Perched high over the River Wear on a grass-covered mound at a height of some 450ft stands the distinctive outline of one of the region’s most prominent landmarks: that of Penshaw Monument.  Offering outstanding panoramic views to those who take the trouble of scaling its lofty heights across the Wear basin and beyond towards the vast tracts of lower Tyneside, this most classical and unlikely of creations dominates the skyline for miles around.

Formerly known as Pensher Hill Monument, the site itself is perhaps best known as the night-time lair of the legendary Lambton Worm (though some claim that nearby Worm Hill is the better bet).  The medieval monster, whose dirty deeds are recalled in many varied versions of prose, is said by one such account to have slept coiled “ten times round Penshaw Hill”, from which it crept nightly to prey on local livestock and young children.

It was in honour of a Lambton, in fact, that the present structure was ultimately erected many centuries later in 1844.  The famous County Durham family had long owned the hill, and it was to the memory of one of the most famous of their clan that the temple was raised by his contemporaries.  Radical ‘Jack’ Lambton, later to become Sir John George Lambton, enjoyed an illustrious career prior to his somewhat premature death at the age of 49 in 1840.  Having represented the county of Durham for fifteen years as an able Member of Parliament he went on to become the first Earl of Durham, and ultimately held the prestigious offices of Lord Privy Seal and that of the first Governor-General of Canada (among other titles).  By all accounts he was a well respected gentleman: humanitarian, well and widely educated, multi-talented and amiable, he would most probably have been embarrassed by the lavish tribute afforded him by his colleagues and subjects in the wake of his death.  No expense was spared: top local architects – the father and son partnership of John and Benjamin Green (who had only a few years previously completed two of Newcastle’s most famous landmarks, the Theatre Royal and Grey’s Monument) – were commissioned to the task, and soon the plans were complete.

The opening ceremony – the laying of the foundation stone – took place on Wednesday 28^th August 1844, and was conducted by Thomas, Earl of Zetland, who bore the illustrious title of Grand Master of the Free and Accepted Masons of England.  Over 30,000 locals are said to have witnessed the occasion.

The finished monument – based on the famous Temple of Hephaestus (or Theseus) in Athens – measured, or rather measures, 100ft by 53ft in length and breadth, and is 70ft high, with eighteen columns in the classical style, each 6ft 6in in diameter.  A monument fit for a god, never mind a Lambton!  Make no mistake, Penshaw Monument is no folly – nothing could be further from the truth.  Now in the capable, caring hands of the National Trust, it is open to the public all year round during daylight hours – though access to the top of the monument itself is restricted to weekend tours in the summer.

[ this is one of many articles to appear in my Aspects of North-East History, Volume 1 – see ‘Buy My Books’ at top of blog ]

Why not come along to...

The National Family History Fair

NEWCASTLE-UPON-TYNE

Saturday 7th September 2013

The Lambton Worm (NZ310540)

One of the most famous of our local songs, there follows one version of The Lambton Worm. It was said to lurk in and around the River Wear near the Lambton Estate in Co.Durham. A spot still called Worm Hill is said by most accounts to have been its night-time lair – though the following poem names Penshaw Hill as the location in question.

One Sundaa mornin’ Lambton went a-fishin'’ in the Wear;

He cowt a fish upon his heuk, he thowt lukk't vurry kwee-a.

Noo whattna kind ov fish it waaz yung Lambton cudd’na tell;

He had’na mind t’ carry it hyem, so he hoyd it doon a well.

(chorus)           

Whisht! Lads, haad yer gobs,

An’ aa’ll tell ye aall an aaful story.

Whisht! Lads, haad yer gobs,

An’ aa’ll tell ye ‘boot the worm.

Noo Lambton felt inclined t’ gan an’ fite in forrun waars;

He joined a band ov nites wee caired for neetha woonds nor scairs.

So off he went t’ Palestine where kwee-a things him befell;

An’ vurry syun forgot aboot yon kwee-a worm in thu well.

(repeat chorus)

Thu worm got fat an’ growd an’ growd, an’ growd t’ an aarful size;

Wi’ a git big gob, an’ git big teeth, an’ git big goggly eyes.

An’ when at neet it craaled aroond t’ pick up bits o’ news;

If it felt dry ‘pon the road, it milk’t a dozen coos.

(repeat chorus)

This feorful worm wud often feed on caalves an’ lamms an’ sheep;

An’ swally little bairns alive wen thay lay doon t’ sleep.

Wen it had eetin’ aall it cud, an’ it had had its fill;

It craaled away an’ lapp’t its tail ten times roond Pensher Hill.

(repeat chorus)

Thu nooz ov this myest aarful beast an’ its kwee-a gannins on;

Syunn cross’t the seez an’ reach’t thu ee-as of bowld and brave Sor John.

So hyem he came an’ cowt the beast an’ cut it in twe haalves;

An’ that syunn stop’t it eetin’ sheep an’ bairns an’ lamms an’ caalves.

(repeat chorus)

So noo yer naar hoo aall thu foaks on byeth sides o’ thu Wear;

Lost lots o’ sheep an’ lots o’ sleep an’ lived in mortal fee-a.

So let’s hevv one t’ brave Sor John, wee kept the bairns fram harm;

An’ saved thu caalves by myekin’ haalves o’ thu aafull Lambton Worm.

(chorus after last verse)

Noo, lads, aa'll had me gob,

That's all aa knaar aboot thu story,

Of Sor John’s clivvor job,

Wi' thu aaful Lambton Worm.

Why not come along to...

The National Family History Fair

NEWCASTLE-UPON-TYNE

Saturday 7th September 2013

Roots of Beamish Museum (NZ220540)

The Colliery, Beamish Museum

(© Copyright Ashley Dace and licensed for reuse under this Creative CommonsLicence)

In 2010, Beamish Museum celebrated its 40^th birthday. It is the oldest regional ‘open air’ museum in England.

Incredibly, the idea for ‘Beamish’ was first floated back in 1958. It stumbled forward in fits and starts during the 1960s, gradually gathering items of all shapes and sizes from the public which were stored in an old army camp near Brancepeth. In total, more than twenty huts and hangars were filled with material.

Thanks, primarily, to the efforts of its first director, Frank Atkinson, the project gathered steam, and the collection was eventually brought to its current site near Beamish village in 1970 – the moment when the first staff members were formally appointed and the museum properly born. Even then, the amount of material was substantial, ranging from the smallest household item up to engines, vehicles and whole shops. Such was the enthusiasm for the scheme that a ‘Friends’ support group was established several years before the museum opened.

In 1971, the very first public exhibition – entitled ‘Museum in the Making’ – was established in Beamish Hall, and it was such a success that the final go-ahead was given to the concept of an ‘open air’ museum in the hall’s grounds. The following year saw the opening of the site as we know it today – if a good deal shorn of its now familiar attractions. A few cottages were erected in 1972, and in 1973 the railway station and pithead were constructed and the first trams began to run.

In the forty years since, Beamish has gone from strength to strength, picking up many national and international awards along the way. It is almost entirely self-funding, and attracts between 300-400,000 visitors per year.

No Place: Now Gone? (NZ217531)

If you have ever travelled along the A693 between Stanley and Chester-le-Street, you may have noticed a sign-post pointing south to a village called ‘No Place’. Strictly speaking – and somewhat ironically – it no longer exists.

The original No Place consisted of a row of four terraced coattages in the middle of a field to the south of the main road. The very earliest OS maps from the 1850s show them sitting in splendid isolation; then in the 1890s terracing began appearing a little to the north (between the cottages and the road) – a little settlement which came to be known as ‘Co-operative Villas’. In time, the old cottages fell into disrepair and it was decided to demolish them around the time of the Second World War. Such was the affection for the curious old place-name, however, that the residents of Co-operative Villas unofficially took on the name for their own collection of streets.

In the 1980s, a sustained attempt was made by the local council to re-impose the name of ‘Co-operative Villas’ on the little settlement, but the locals wouldn’t have it. Such was the strength of feeling that the powers-that-be accepted the status quo … and the place known as No Place now has (officially, it seems) two names. Even the road signs bear both monikers.

As is so often the case with these odd-sounding names, no one seems to know for sure quite how No Place got its name. It could be a shortening of North, Near or Nigh Place, or just a nickname that stuck due to its isolation. I’ve also read that the original settlement sat on the boundary between two parishes, neither of which were prepared to ‘claim it’ – hence ‘No Place’! And some even argue that it comes from the reputation of the local pit as being ‘no place to work’.

All very strange – but quite wonderful, all the same.

North Country Brags (NZ281531 & NZ282552)

The imaginings of our ancestors knew no bounds. Goblins are one such entity said to have haunted the lanes and backwaters of our countryside – and the North-East is no different to anywhere else in the UK. In this part of the world, though, they seem to have been known as ‘brags’, and were able to shape-shift at will, it would appear.

One of the most famous of these unearthly creatures is ‘The Picktree Brag’, which was said to have wandered the countryside around this tiny village between Chester-le-Street and Birtley. The most notable account is that given by a 90-year-old woman in the 1830s – as told to local noble Sir Cuthbert Sharp, who handily commited the tale to print.

As is so often the case, the ‘brag’ was never seen distinctly, but was more often heard or ‘sensed’ in the dead of night. “It sometimes appears as a calf … or a horse … whinnying every now and then. It also came like a ‘dickass’,” she was heard to say. Others, she exclaimed, saw it as ‘four men holding a sheet’, or as a naked man without a head. It would often accompany the midwife on her rounds in the shape of a horse – and if anyone tried to mount it it would throw them violently and run off, ‘laughing’ loudly.

Other northern legends refer to such spirits appearing as a man, an ox or a hound – but it was most often in the form of a horse or donkey, making a terrifying noise, that the ghostly beast would materialise. Strangely, the nearby village of Portobello (a little to the north) also harbours a similar legend. But I mean, come on, let’s be reasonable … it’s probably the same creature ‘doing the rounds’. Common sense, really.

Biddick Hall (NZ314528)

© Copyright PGlenwright and licensed for reuse 

under this Creative CommonsLicence.

A little to the north of Bournmoor and to the west of Shiney Row, lie the beautiful, tranquil grounds of Biddick Hall. The residence – now a privately-owned venue for functions – dates primarily from the eighteenth century and has been associated with the famous Lambton family since they purchased to estate at the tail-end of the 1500s.

The equally well-known Bowes family originally owned the land and the first manor house, but the site was remodelled by the Lambtons in the early 1700s – in a style described as ‘Queen Anne Baroque’. The somewhat eccentric and oversized Ionic pilasters of the entrance dominate the structure – it has been suggested that the design may have been based on a sketch by Sir John Vanbrugh who worked at Lumley Castle in 1721.

About a century later, in c.1837, the Lambtons moved out and into their brand new Lambton Castle to the south-west. ‘Lesser’ family members (and occasionally tenants) then took over at Biddick Hall, though it continued to be added to, structurally, until well into the twentieth century. With the decline of their ‘castle’, the top-rank Lambtons moved back to Biddick in 1932 after some further remodelling.

As per the recently revamped Lambton Castle, Biddick Hall was used in 2012 by the BBC in the production of the period drama The Paradise.

Lambton Lion Park (NZ298518)

Those of a certain age will remember the North-East’s contribution to the 60s and 70s fad of UK-based safari parks, namely, ‘Lambton Lion Park’. Situated between Chester-le-Street and Bournmoor, it existed for eight short years during 1972-1980.

This odd tourist attraction came about on the whim of the then Lord Lambton, who no doubt fancied squeezing a little bit more money out of his substantial County Durham estate. Jimmy Chipperfield (of circus fame) was consulted in 1970, and two years later African beasts were roaming the banks of the River Wear whilst astonished locals looked on from their cars. The site was officially opened by Lucinda Lambton in July 1972.

The venture was a huge success and in 1975 the decision was taken to upgrade the site – the set-up eventually being relaunched as ‘Lambton Pleasure Park’. New features included the addition of a ‘Magic Castle’, children’s rides and a miniature railway, among other things.

Given its early success, I’m not altogether sure why the park closed in 1980, though there are whispers on the internet about problems with escaping animals and general lack of funds.

After its closure, there was little in the way of public access to the site and the estate fell into general decline. However, it is currently undergoing redevelopment, and has even been used as the setting for the BBC’s period drama, The Paradise, during 2012.

Some great pics here.

Shrove Tuesday Football (NZ275515)

Chester-le-Street isn’t the only place in the North-East with a tradition of playing Shrove Tuesday Football, but it is one of the better known. Not for the faint-hearted, this brutish, dangerous game was finally outlawed (in Chester-le-Street, at least) in 1932. Here’s an abridged report of the 1889 clash taken from the Newcastle Daily Chronicle of 6^th March of the same year:

Mr Joseph Murray, of Newcastle, as the representative of the Murray family, who have provided the ball for sixty-five years, duly appeared at one o’clock with the ball in his hand. Immediately he threw out the ball the fun became fast and furious, and, contrary to all the traditions of the game, the ball went rapidly up the street, all the efforts of the Down-Streeters failing to stay the attack of the Up-Streeters, who seemed bent upon making a strong bid for victory. Right away the ball went upwards, only to be checked opposite the Lambton Arms, and again at the King’s Head; then it did not stop until reaching Red Rose Hall. There a change took place; the Down-Streeters made a big effort, and, by the aid of vigorous play on the part of a few fresh hands, conspicuous among whom was a well-known “county back”, the ball was brought rapidly down street, and its progress was not checked until it was shot into the half-frozen river Cone. Plunging in, through the ice and rushing waters, several adventurous players succeeded in getting the ball once more into play, at the expense of a thorough wetting. In a few minutes’ time the ball was again forced into the river, and this time several youngsters got it upon the ice and tried to play it there, only to drop through the ice at very soft places and to lose the ball through the holes into the water, all of which caused immense amusement to the spectators. The ball again went up the street after a terrific struggle, and there it remained, in spite of the Herculean efforts put forth by the Down-Streeters. A few minutes before six o’clock the ball was returned to Mr.Murray, who addressed the multitude from the window of the Crown Inn, congratulating them upon the magnificent struggle there had been. An announcement was subsequently made that next year a cup would be given to be held by some responsible person on behalf of the winners.

[this abridged version first appeared in the Monthly Chronicle of North Country Lore & Legend in April 1889]

Chester-le-Street’s Missing Gold (NZ277514)

In 1042, Durham needed a new bishop. By whatever means (thanks, supposedly, to the influence of the mighty Earl Godwin), a monk from Peterborough by the name of Egelric landed the job. So up he came to the North-East and began what he must have considered something of a plum job.

Durham had by that time been the home of the mortal remains of St Cuthbert for around half a century. The saint’s previous ‘home’ had been Chester-le-Street, where he had lain during 883-995AD. Since his removal, the little town had lost a good deal of it’s glamour, but Egelric decided to give it a bit of a facelift with the construction of a brand new stone church to replace the battered old wooden affair that had housed Cuthbert’s bits and pieces.

Now this is all supposed to have happened towards the end of the bishop’s reign, around 1054-56. The story goes that during excavational work for the new edifice a hoard of gold was found, the workmen having stumbled upon the treasury of the old Roman garrison. Reports vary slightly as to what exactly happened next, but it would appear that Bishop Egelric exercised what you might call his ‘executive right’ and appropriated the gold for himself and did a runner back to Peterborough.

More kindly reports have him ‘retiring’ the bishopric of Durham in 1056 and assuming some prominent post at Peterborough, where, suitably endowed with a mysterious fortune, he set about rebuilding many of the roads and pathways of the Fens. The new church at Chester-le-Street was built, however, though presumably the money had already been put aside for this task.

According to Arthur Mee’s Durham (1953), the dubious cleric ended up being thrown in the Tower of London for his misdeeds several years later by William the Conqueror.

Genes Reunited has over 13 million 

members and growing