Archive for the ‘1900s’ Category

1908 Olympics

Posted: July 28, 2012 in 1900s, 1914, 1918
Tags:

My late grandfather, Jack Wilson MM, clearly remembered Key events that impinged on his life from the Relief of Mafeking in 1902, celebrated in the fringes of the British Empire on the Spa Fields, Shotley Bridge – but he said nothing of the 1908 Olympics, yet his father, the source of all news through the Penny Pictorial must have been aware of the Games. Jack would have been 12. Not a Dicky Bird.

Over 100 years ago I believe to the Olympics were far more exclusive, both geographically and economically isolating – a working class lad from the North East was never liekly to travel to London for an event such as this.

Another thought, of course, is how many 1908 competitors fought and died in the 1914-1918 War?

Canon Ross Lewin

1902

There was Tatty Walton’s the Grocer’s and Addison’s the Newsagents. These supermarkets have killed all of that.

The pubs were the ‘Kings Head’ and ‘The Commercial’.

Canon Lewin lived at the Vicarage at 1 Church Bank.

He was in sixties and lived with his two sisters. They had two domestic servants. St. Cuthbert’s was designed by John Dobson, which says something about the money that could be raised in Shotley Bridge at the time.

I noticed in the Homemaker section of the Journal a house for sale by the riverside for £330,000 with twelve stables and lodges and fishing rights.

That was Lois Priestman’s House.

There were three brothers, another one was Jonathan Priestman, a long time MD of Concert Iron Works; he lived at Shotley Lodge. And one of them lived up at Snow’s Green.

Spa Fields Fair and the Char-a-banc

1902

Every year there was a fair down at the Spa Fields by the river

The Spa was noted for its waters which came out of the rocks by the swings; it was icy cold. The bath house and saloon still remain.

I remembered a Char-a-banc coming down from Blackhill to Shotley Bridge Spa grounds that crashed. That was on 26th August 1911. Those killed belonged to the Consett Co-Operative Choir. There was a couple that died a John Joseph Person and his fiancée Ettie Stokoe. I held her hand while we waited for the Doctor. It was shortly after my 15th birthday. There were many I say die after that, but she was the first. A lovely woman. Full of ideas and hopes. There were a lot that missed out.

Every year there was this fair and the Choir had come down for that

There was a Toll Gate. You paid once and there were swings attached to these huge trees with heavy steel bars and hooks and roundabouts and a Flower Show. Carriages carrying twenty people would come in from Newcastle. I won a First Prize for a handwriting competition and for my drawings. I did one of a Roman Soldier and another of a tulip.

I remember in 1902 going down to the Spa where they had a huge fire to celebrate the Relief of Mafeking. My father used to get a magazine, ‘The Black and White Budget’ on the Boer War.

The fair in Shotley Park was stopped eventually by a Quaker family who owned the land.

He was a banker, this Jonathan Richardson, a Quaker Banker. That was a rum deal. One of his sons refused to fight in the Great War. He stayed out until conscription came in then refused. He lived by his bible, he said and obeyed the Fifth Commandment, ‘Thou Shalt Not Kill.’ They had him shipped out to France all the same and put under military command; they might have been shot for that, but Parliament stepped in and gave them hard labour.

Fig. 1. Shotley Bridge, above the Flour Mill.  The boys on the road John Arthur Wilson (Jack) and William Nixon Wilson (Billy)

William Lubbock – Photographer

1902

There was a teacher called Lubbock; he was a good amateur photographer.

His name was William. He was born in 1871 and had a wife called Thomasine and a daughter Marion who was two years younger than me. Lubbock taught Standard Seven so I had him in my final year. He didn’t half wallop you with a cane.

He got out to take pictures of these real winter scenes.

I was thought to be a bit of a strapping lad, all the Wilson’s were big lads, we have the blood of Blacksmiths running in our veins which explains why we last so long. I’d go out to help him carry his equipment, trudging out onto the fells through snow that came up to your waist – the drifts could cover a barn.

Talk about winters. It went on for weeks, nothing like now.

Lubbock was Chairman of the Tyneside Photography Society.

He used a box camera with all these brass fittings a tripod, a large wooden affair that weighed a few stone.

The camera used glass plates.

He took a photograph of me and Billy in 1903 or thereabouts.

We wore these wide brimmed straw hats against the sun and I was carrying a cane and jam jar. We were off to fish for tiddlers in the Derwent by the Papermill. It was in front of what is now the King’s Head, with the bank running down to the flourmill and bridge at the bottom. The road back then was wide enough for carriages to pass but was no good for motorcars. A whole row of houses were knocked down for the motorcars and wagons to get through as that was the main route to Newcastle.

Lubbock turned up at the Chancellor Pub once. I filled him with beer and walked him back to the train.

There was another teacher called Evans and a woman teacher whose name I don’t recall.

I took part in Aladdin, a Chinese Play and I was a bugler in the Boy’s Brigade.

They were masterminded by Baden-Powell around 1900.

He who went on to establish the Boy Scout movement. One time we went camping up to Allen’s Ford.

There was a Saturday Matinee in Dally’s Hall.

We’d see these cowboy films and someone would play the piano.

Shotley Bridge and Benfieldside School

1900

Shotley Bridge was a metropolitan, a proper town, a thriving place.

The War and the recession and the rest put paid to that; it’s never been the same. Never will be. Can’t be. Consett and Shotley Bridge drew in workers right up to the outbreak of the War in 1914 for the iron and steel works, the paper mill, saw mill, market gardens, mines of course and the manufactories. Then there were the railways, and shops and theatres of course. And the market every week that filled the town.

I remember taking Billy up to the infant school, Benfieldside School at Highgate and him crying.

Children started school aged six and stayed on until Standard VII. On our when 14th birthday we got a job. There was no staying on unless you had the money for the Grammar School. Lads from the big houses would be sent into Newcastle or they’d be away at boarding preparatory schools from the age of 7 or 8.

The school was divided into two, girls and boys

There was a separate block for infants with the schoolmaster’s house next door and a playground behind where I left him and went back for him. It was a mile walk. There was a two hour break for lunch as most children went home to eat. So back and forth we’d walk six miles a day. There were no buses and no bikes.

There was no gas or electricity either, just paraffin lamps.

The headmaster was Frank Allan; he was a little chap. He signed up, no need, he lied over age, said he was 37, in fact he was 43. He encouraged a lot of boys to lie about their age and got them killed, 14 year olds saying they were 19. Billy did that and joined the Royal Flying Corp when he was 15.

Frank was killed in the Great War.

 

Swimming by the Papermill Sluice

1900

There were no swimming pools

We went down to the Papermill dam and used to swim under the sluice. The sluice runs for 600 yards alongside a gently running race. There are pools, rapids and diving spots. It’s still there, not operational though. The other place for swimming was Tiger’s below the Papermill.

We spent all our summers with a string and bent pin fishing for tiddlers.

The Paper Mill was owned by the Annandale’s.

They lived in a big mansion, Shotley Grove House up at Snow’s Green. James Annandale lived to be ninety. He was born in 1827 and died January 1917; my mother told me that in a letter I got when I was a Machine Gunner on the Somme. Mr Annandale’s wife was called Anne. They had four children: Charles, Annie, Nora and James. The younger James lived with his old man at Shotley Grove with his wife Elizabeth and their baby daughter Margaret; they had a domestic servant and a nurse of their own.

The Papermill produced 95 tones of paper a week and employed 300.

There were plenty from school got took on by the Mill, which was preferable than going down the mines and liked by some better than going into domestic service. The Papermill was established by John Anandale in 1799; that’s how old the sluice would be they put in to run the machinery.

The First Cars in County Durham

1900

The first person to have a car in the area was Dr Ralph Renton.

Everyone knew when he was coming because you could hear the engine.

“Chug, chug chug, chug.”

You’d then see him sitting there bolt up right like he was at desk. Dr Renton lived at Oakfield, Blackhill; he was born in 1878. His mother’s name was Mary Renton; she was born in 1850. She had two sisters who lived with her, Marjory & Agnes. They were still in Benfieldside 1901. Ralph’s father, Dr George Renton had been the GP at Shotley Bridge before his son.

Dr Renton’s car was a chain-driven 8 HP Single Cylinder Rover

This was their first motorcar, designed by Edmund Lewes who had been working for Daimler. Before that they’d made motorbikes and before than they’d made bicycles. There were mostly horse drawn vehicles when I was a boy, private cars were very rare.

They next people after that to have a motor car were C.T. Mailings of Ford Potteries, Greenwood, Shotley Bridge. It was a Lanchester.

Lanchester in Fiume

It had tiller steering and bicycle wheels

When the cars came on the go JG got a mechanic driver, a man called Geldart, to come up from Middlesborough to teach my father how to drive.

Lanchester in Fiume

The Murrays bought a 10 HP Coventry Humber from this firm in Middlesborough and later bought a 30/40 Beeston Humber.

'Beeston' Humber at Rushen Abbey Hotel, Isle of Man

Thomas Humber was a blacksmith from Beeston near Nottingham

He started with velocipedes, they had no chains, you just sat on them to make them go by running your feet along the ground. He got into bicycles and then tricycles and by the 1890′s he was building copies of Leon Bollee’s tricar. As well as tricycles, they built motorcycles and voiturettes. They had two speeds those first cars, one forwards, one backwards. They were well built and a more expensive car.

As a boy my father used to take me up to the yard to fiddle on with the engines

When old Dick Murray built Benfieldside House he had two massive stone pillars put up at the bottom of the drive. There was a little wicker gate into the lodge where we lived. J G. used to have a go with the Beeston Humber. One day he missed the gate and ran into the pillar which twisted round its base. These pillars were incorporated into the estate agent’s house which is called ‘Glastonbury’ and is on Benfieldside Road.

A second groom was taken on to look after the horses and my father took on the new role of chauffer. He used to drive J.G. all around the branches of the North Eastern Breweries, to the Moor Street Brewery in Sunderland, the Tower Brewery in Spennymore, the Weir Brewery in Stockton and up to the bottling plant at Blackhill next to the offices where I worked.

I blame cars for the growth in crime. You never heard of burglaries, but once the criminal types could nip in and out by car they’d target these big houses. Put the wind up a lot of people that.

 

Richard Murray’s Legacy

1896

When Richard Murray died in 1912 he left £60,000 to build the hospital behind the house.

My father told me he gave each of his sons £30,000. Dick was born in 1839 and died 1912, on February 7th. His wife was called Elizabeth. She was born in 1841 and died on 14th February 1920 and his buried next to her husband in Blackhill Cemetery. They had a daughter Maggie who married a Robert Taylor. She died on the 16th November 1902. She was only 33 years of age. Her family put up this lovely marble column and her parents are buried at the same spot in Blackhill Cemetery.

‘J.G’ (John George) Murray left his legal practice at 42 Westgate Road to take over the business.

There was a horse-trough where horses watered on the way up from Newcastle. And I remember a lamp lighter too – he had a stick with a hook on it.

The Five Wilson Boys

1896

I had five brothers.

Percy, who was born in 1893. He was born over in Dalston, and christened over there. His name was Twentyman, but we called him Percy; he died of TB in his twenties. Then me, I was born in 1896.

Billy was born in 1899

His full name was William Nichol Wilson. His birthday was 27th October. He died in June 1919 when his plane, a De Havilland Bomber, crashed over Belgium. He was delivering mail to Cologne. He was a Flight Lieutenant in the RAF. He’s buried in the a civilian Cemetery, Belgium. He’d gone through the Great War unharmed by some miracle. He’d lied about his age; a lot did that. He was taken on by the Royal Flying Corps when we has 15. Flight Lieutenant William Nichol Wilson. RAF 110th Squadron. Died 8th June 1919. Age 19. I went out to visit the grave the next year.

By then the family were living out at Castleside, at 25 Consett Road

Like everyone the Murray’s had to cut back with the War and they had to let go of most of the staff, my father included.

“Why don’t we have a sister?” We kept saying to father.

I think he tried his hand but it didn’t come off.

Spencer was born in 1909. Then Stuart in 1911.

Percy went into a nursery as a gardener

He was a real gardener, not a half inch one. He trained with people called Kidd. The place was established by Walter Kidd of Ashfield, Shotley Bridge, to sell produce into Newcastle. Things were booming then around Consett & Shotley Bridge.

Billy worked at the solicitors J Ainsley & Sons on Tailor Street, Consett.

Like me he left school at 14 and joined them as an office boy. He had lovely writing so they made he a clerk. He did the copywriting. Everything was written out by hand in those days; there weren’t even typewriters, let alone computers to take your words down. You used a piece of copying paper that you dampened and laid across the paper to make a copy.

After the War I was shown some graffiti on a wall at J Ainsley & Sons. Billy had written his name there behind a picture that had been up on the wall. Beautiful handwriting. J Ainsley & Sons were owned by the Murrays. Your Great Auntie Pegg, she’s an Ainsley girl and your mother was at school with one of them.

Spencer was more or less an unqualified architect working for Murrays, Hoyles and Aynsley’.

They were all intermarried the Hoyles and Anandales, Murrays and Ainsleys. Spencer become a draughtsman in Billingham, then a manager to a concreting firm in Birmingham. He was like an architect, but an unqualified one.

The Big House, the Murrays and Domestic Servants

1896

My father called ‘J.G.’ the ‘Governor.’

He’d been a solicitor practising in Newcastle when his father died and left him the business.

There was his Mrs Murray. Her name was Isabella and she was born in 1867; she came from Wylam and their daughter Miss Ethne. Miss Ethne had a birthday in May and was born in 1894, same age as my older brother Percy. There was a harness with everything in glass cases, saddles etc: Miss Effne had a little Shetland pony with a cream tub trap. She had an Italian Governess for a while, a Miss Rosina Frache, a spinster in her thirties. And later a German Governess who had things thrown at her when war broke out; she was interred. They were locking Germans up. The butcher changed his name and we let him get away with that; he made these excellent sausages. He took the name ‘Butcher,’ which everyone liked. After that we made up our own names for anyone that had a German sounding name. Shotley Bridge was made by a German family; it was a German who had set up the sword makers back in the 17th century.

The house had a butler, called Fry.

A housekeeper, called Mrs Kirkpatrick. A cook, called Mrs Woodburn who was replaced by Annie Ridley. A house maid, called Emma Housby, a laundry maid, Kathleen Robertson, a Waiting Maid, Jessie Brown and an 18 year old lass they called the ‘Dope’ as the Kitchen Maid – her name was Edith Walker. There was a gardener, called Booth, two gamekeepers, Jack Bell, and a Scotsman called Frank Carruthers. Jack lived at Elm Park and Frank was up at Allensford, Blanchland. Bell lived on the other side of the railway; he’d come over to cut the lawns on a Monday, if the weather was good. Bell pulled on a bit of cord and Booth pushed; it wasn’t motorised and you weren’t to use a horse or pony because that would spoil the lawn. They had these big rollers too; they kept it like they were going to play cricket. All you ever saw was a bit of croquet or lawn tennis.

Jack Bell paid the wages for everyone working at the Big House. He kept these single entry estate books up at the Royal Hotel.

We were living in the lodge

As a boy, I used to come up to the yard to fiddle on with the engines. I remember at one time there were these great crates of dinner sets to unpack for the cook.