Reports from 2018
January 2018
Archaeology in the North-East
Richard Carlton is director of an archaeological practice and attached to Newcastle University; he gave us a fascinating tour of recent excavations in North Northumberland.
The Flodden Pathways project (2016) focussed especially on the aftermath of the battle, examining maps, footpaths and place names, and noting the significant differences north and south of the border. The Project set out to identify the routes taken by James IV and his army going to Flodden in 1513 and the routes of the defeated troops straggling back, looking at the roads, river crossings, buildings, and the muster and battle sites.
The project concentrated on more than 20 ecclesiastical sites, because these include the majority of the buildings known to be in existence at that time, and on Norham and Wark castles which were taken by the Scottish army.
James IV’s invasion was organised by the very efficient Scottish civil service. It was no small undertaking: estimates of the number of armed men vary between 20–100 thousand but, taking the lowest figure along with non-combatants, it is likely there were at least 40,000 people in total from all over Scotland, plus animals.
The majority of the army journeyed towards Flodden from Edinburgh, by way of Haddington, and assembled at Ellen, just north of present day Duns. The artillery came via Dalkeith and Kelso, crossing the Tweed at Coldstream.
The likeliest route for retreat is thought to be the Staw Road, which runs from Kirknewton (with a side shoot to KIlham) through Kirk Yetholm to Otterburn; it was an important cross-border route which appears on 18th century maps and may well have been in existence much earlier. It was a wet late summer, so streams and major rivers were to be avoided as far as possible, and the Tweed was a major obstacle. The Border Survey (1541) lists 31 fords between Berwick and Crabbestream – some where there’s solid rock can still be seen – but there was only one bridge extant, at Twizel.
James and 5–6,000 men were killed at Flodden, (and the English army had captured the artillery), so churches and monasteries may have been important as places of sanctuary for the survivors. Located along the Staw Road, St Ethelreda’s Chapel is mentioned in 13th –16th century texts, but its exact location was unknown. The Project team identified 4 possible sites, excavating one on a low ridge by a flood plain, to reveal a wall and a fragment of medieval pottery: if not the chapel, it was the remains of a contemporary building.
in Scotland far fewer churches survive in their 16th century form, or at all, because of different religious history. However, the medieval walls and pottery of the nunnery at Abbey St Bathans may be relevant, while a separate project at the Lennel found the floor plan of a church which was abandoned in 1704.
Excavations in 2016 at Norham castle found only later roadways, At Wark bastle, excavations revealed the footprint of St Giles chapel, medieval coins and weapon heads, and deep pits containing fragments of pottery suggesting a site where the army was fed.
The excavations on Holy Island in 2017 made new discoveries. On the Heugh were found the footing stones of a rectangular structure with 2 chambers and 4 doorways; aerial photographs show evidence of stone walls and a few post holes. Near the war memorial, an extensive stone platform was found, possibly the base of a tower. The Lantern Chapel or Lookout Tower has footings, thick walls, and a void cut into the whinstone revealed the remains of 7 individuals. The full results are yet to be published.
Archaeology in the North-East
Richard Carlton is director of an archaeological practice and attached to Newcastle University; he gave us a fascinating tour of recent excavations in North Northumberland.
The Flodden Pathways project (2016) focussed especially on the aftermath of the battle, examining maps, footpaths and place names, and noting the significant differences north and south of the border. The Project set out to identify the routes taken by James IV and his army going to Flodden in 1513 and the routes of the defeated troops straggling back, looking at the roads, river crossings, buildings, and the muster and battle sites.
The project concentrated on more than 20 ecclesiastical sites, because these include the majority of the buildings known to be in existence at that time, and on Norham and Wark castles which were taken by the Scottish army.
James IV’s invasion was organised by the very efficient Scottish civil service. It was no small undertaking: estimates of the number of armed men vary between 20–100 thousand but, taking the lowest figure along with non-combatants, it is likely there were at least 40,000 people in total from all over Scotland, plus animals.
The majority of the army journeyed towards Flodden from Edinburgh, by way of Haddington, and assembled at Ellen, just north of present day Duns. The artillery came via Dalkeith and Kelso, crossing the Tweed at Coldstream.
The likeliest route for retreat is thought to be the Staw Road, which runs from Kirknewton (with a side shoot to KIlham) through Kirk Yetholm to Otterburn; it was an important cross-border route which appears on 18th century maps and may well have been in existence much earlier. It was a wet late summer, so streams and major rivers were to be avoided as far as possible, and the Tweed was a major obstacle. The Border Survey (1541) lists 31 fords between Berwick and Crabbestream – some where there’s solid rock can still be seen – but there was only one bridge extant, at Twizel.
James and 5–6,000 men were killed at Flodden, (and the English army had captured the artillery), so churches and monasteries may have been important as places of sanctuary for the survivors. Located along the Staw Road, St Ethelreda’s Chapel is mentioned in 13th –16th century texts, but its exact location was unknown. The Project team identified 4 possible sites, excavating one on a low ridge by a flood plain, to reveal a wall and a fragment of medieval pottery: if not the chapel, it was the remains of a contemporary building.
in Scotland far fewer churches survive in their 16th century form, or at all, because of different religious history. However, the medieval walls and pottery of the nunnery at Abbey St Bathans may be relevant, while a separate project at the Lennel found the floor plan of a church which was abandoned in 1704.
Excavations in 2016 at Norham castle found only later roadways, At Wark bastle, excavations revealed the footprint of St Giles chapel, medieval coins and weapon heads, and deep pits containing fragments of pottery suggesting a site where the army was fed.
The excavations on Holy Island in 2017 made new discoveries. On the Heugh were found the footing stones of a rectangular structure with 2 chambers and 4 doorways; aerial photographs show evidence of stone walls and a few post holes. Near the war memorial, an extensive stone platform was found, possibly the base of a tower. The Lantern Chapel or Lookout Tower has footings, thick walls, and a void cut into the whinstone revealed the remains of 7 individuals. The full results are yet to be published.
February 2018
The university at Alnwick castle
As we all know from the Downtown Abbey series, the grand houses of the aristocracy were left denuded of servants during and after World War 1. At Alnwick Castle, a large block of accommodation and a refectory for the serving staff were left vacant. The late Duke of Northumberland realised that these empty buildings would serve very well for students. After World War 11, the Alnwick Teacher Training College was established there. When teacher training in the UK slowly incorporated into the University-based higher education system in the 1970s, a new educational enterprise moved in from the USA, a branch of the St Cloud State University (SCSU), from Minnesota. So we do have a University in North Northumberland! Some people will surely have come across groups of students taking parts of their university study programme on courses based in Alnwick.
Glendale Local History Society was treated to a lively account of how this came about from Wade Sherman, who administers the programme at Alnwick. SCSU itself was founded long before this venture, in 1869, at St Cloud, a town of around 100,000 people which lies on the Mississippi river, north of the twin-cities of Minneapolis/St Paul. It was created as a State University, which means that it is committed to providing higher education at affordable prices (for the US!) to students from the State, and it is the second largest State University in Minnesota. It also emphasises giving support for students in all kinds of ways. These days it has over 15,000 students, nearly 10% of whom come from outside the US, notably Mexico, Somalia and the Mung communities of South-East Asia. The University has won awards for its provision for students from outside the US, but it remains committed to extending the experience of more local students. Our speaker explained that, for many students, coming to St Cloud itself from deeply rural areas in Minnesota is quite a culture shock. Also, many American families in the Mid-West have little experience of anywhere else, and certainly not another country. So slowly SCSU has built up links with places across the globe which can provide residential study centre facilities where students can widen their horizons and learn something about the world outside their own country. It seems that SCSU was one of the earliest US universities to create a network of such centres for its students. The link with Alnwick came very early and by good chance, as SCSU’s first idea was to open a study centre in London; but who could resist the idea of a study centre in an ancient castle?
In the first year, the SCSU students shared the building with the final year of the Teacher Training College. Soon, after some refurbishment, around 100 students were coming to spend a whole year of their studies in Alnwick. Initially, we were told, they had to look after their accommodation themselves, doing all the cooking and cleaning, as this helped to keep costs down. These days, with more concerns about health and safety issues, staff are employed to do this work, creating jobs locally. In recent years, around 63 students have been coming for a slightly shorter programme. They take courses in British History, Contemporary Britain, and British Culture. This last involves visits to various places so that the students don’t imagine that everywhere in our country is like Alnwick. In discussion with our speaker, we reflected on the challenge the students from Minnesota must face in grasping our long history and its active presence in our lives. Staying in a castle is surely a good place to start this experience! Our speaker also explained that students are encouraged to make links with Alnwick people, perhaps meeting with a local family, or participating in events such as the Alnwick Shrove Tuesday Football Match. We heard that groups come to Wooler, as a base for hiking. He also noted that a key task for the local SCSU staff team was to train students about alcohol, available to them in the UK but not until they are 21 in the US. The Alnwick SCSU campus, however, remains an alcohol-free zone.
As in the UK, publically-funded higher education in the US is under pressure to reduce costs, while students have to find the funds to pay for this rich experience. Our speaker explained that changes are in progress which mean that students will come for shorter and more intensive courses. Hopefully, this will not reduce the great value of experiencing another country and realising that there are many different ways to live in this world.
The university at Alnwick castle
As we all know from the Downtown Abbey series, the grand houses of the aristocracy were left denuded of servants during and after World War 1. At Alnwick Castle, a large block of accommodation and a refectory for the serving staff were left vacant. The late Duke of Northumberland realised that these empty buildings would serve very well for students. After World War 11, the Alnwick Teacher Training College was established there. When teacher training in the UK slowly incorporated into the University-based higher education system in the 1970s, a new educational enterprise moved in from the USA, a branch of the St Cloud State University (SCSU), from Minnesota. So we do have a University in North Northumberland! Some people will surely have come across groups of students taking parts of their university study programme on courses based in Alnwick.
Glendale Local History Society was treated to a lively account of how this came about from Wade Sherman, who administers the programme at Alnwick. SCSU itself was founded long before this venture, in 1869, at St Cloud, a town of around 100,000 people which lies on the Mississippi river, north of the twin-cities of Minneapolis/St Paul. It was created as a State University, which means that it is committed to providing higher education at affordable prices (for the US!) to students from the State, and it is the second largest State University in Minnesota. It also emphasises giving support for students in all kinds of ways. These days it has over 15,000 students, nearly 10% of whom come from outside the US, notably Mexico, Somalia and the Mung communities of South-East Asia. The University has won awards for its provision for students from outside the US, but it remains committed to extending the experience of more local students. Our speaker explained that, for many students, coming to St Cloud itself from deeply rural areas in Minnesota is quite a culture shock. Also, many American families in the Mid-West have little experience of anywhere else, and certainly not another country. So slowly SCSU has built up links with places across the globe which can provide residential study centre facilities where students can widen their horizons and learn something about the world outside their own country. It seems that SCSU was one of the earliest US universities to create a network of such centres for its students. The link with Alnwick came very early and by good chance, as SCSU’s first idea was to open a study centre in London; but who could resist the idea of a study centre in an ancient castle?
In the first year, the SCSU students shared the building with the final year of the Teacher Training College. Soon, after some refurbishment, around 100 students were coming to spend a whole year of their studies in Alnwick. Initially, we were told, they had to look after their accommodation themselves, doing all the cooking and cleaning, as this helped to keep costs down. These days, with more concerns about health and safety issues, staff are employed to do this work, creating jobs locally. In recent years, around 63 students have been coming for a slightly shorter programme. They take courses in British History, Contemporary Britain, and British Culture. This last involves visits to various places so that the students don’t imagine that everywhere in our country is like Alnwick. In discussion with our speaker, we reflected on the challenge the students from Minnesota must face in grasping our long history and its active presence in our lives. Staying in a castle is surely a good place to start this experience! Our speaker also explained that students are encouraged to make links with Alnwick people, perhaps meeting with a local family, or participating in events such as the Alnwick Shrove Tuesday Football Match. We heard that groups come to Wooler, as a base for hiking. He also noted that a key task for the local SCSU staff team was to train students about alcohol, available to them in the UK but not until they are 21 in the US. The Alnwick SCSU campus, however, remains an alcohol-free zone.
As in the UK, publically-funded higher education in the US is under pressure to reduce costs, while students have to find the funds to pay for this rich experience. Our speaker explained that changes are in progress which mean that students will come for shorter and more intensive courses. Hopefully, this will not reduce the great value of experiencing another country and realising that there are many different ways to live in this world.
March 2018
The Alnwick and Cornhill Railway
by Reverend Dr Stephen Plattern
Railway enthusiast Reverend Dr Stephen Plattern gave a fascinating talk on the Alnwick to Cornhill railway, with reference to other local branch lines such as those to Scots Gap and Rothbury, Seahouses and Kelso to Tweedmouth.
He started by discussing the impressive station at Alnwick, designed by architect William Bell who was also the architect for many other stations on the line. The Duke of Northumberland had to give his permission before building could commence in Alnwick, and clearly only a grand building would suffice for his home town. Part of this station still survives today as Barter Books, which incidentally has a model railway running around above the stacks.
The railway opened in 1887 and was 35 miles in length. It was mainly a freight line, transporting livestock, but a limited passenger service also operated until 1930. Given the sparsity of the local population, and the fact that the stations were often situated some distance from the villages they served, owing to engineering constraints and the whims of local landowners, it is hardly surprising that the service was unsustainable. During the winter of 1948–49 a bridge was washed away south of Mindrum, and in 1949 a further bridge near Ilderton also succumbed to floodwaters. The Mindrum bridge was rebuilt, but the line was insufficiently profitable to justify reconstructing that at Ilderton, particularly under conditions of post-war austerity. However, the line continued to operate in two sections. Freight trains continued to run from Alnwick to Ilderton until the early 1950s, while the section between Wooler and Coldstream (actually Cornhill) survived until 1963, when it succumbed in the Beeching cuts. The line was also used for a time for holiday carriages. Most of the line was single track though the larger stations such as Wooler had double track, serving two platforms, and there was an Island platform at Whittingham.
This line was undoubtedly one of the most picturesque in England. It was connected to the main East Coast line by a further branch adjoining Alnwick to Alnmouth. Some progress has been made in reopening part of this branch as a heritage railway.
The line from Alnwick started off in a south-westerly direction, after about a mile passing through woodland, then four miles further across the magnificent viaduct near Edlingham with fine views of the castle and interesting church. It continued northwards, passing the crenelated eyecatcher (folly) of Levington with views up to the Simonside Hills near Rothbury. After a short tunnel the train would have pulled into Whittingham station, which is visible if you look down towards the north from the bridge near the Bridge of Aln pub. The line continued to Glanton station, then it follows a section (now walkable) mainly parallel with the A697 as it approaches Powburn. The fine iron bridge that carried the line over the river was removed after closure and relocated on the surviving rail network. The next station was Hedgeley, originally to be named Powburn, a far larger community. Further north was Wooperton, the area to the south of this surviving station now occupied by Scott’s Sawmill. The line then passed the landmark Percy’s Cross, to reach the surviving rather grandiose but isolated station at Ilderton. Later this station became for a time a restaurant, and a disused carriage was parked nearby.
Passing over the site of the collapsed bridge that sounded the death knell for the line, the train would shortly have pulled into Wooler, the major stop on the line, with two platforms and a Goods Depot, now the home of Millers Antiques. Beyond Wooler the line meandered its way through Glendale. The next station, again out of all proportion to the community it served, is Akeld. The station, some outbuildings and a signal box still survive and can be seen from the A697.
The first railway proposed for this area was intended to continue northwards from Akeld to Ewart Newtown, where a Railway Hotel was in fact constructed. This building now stands empty beside a farm, an incongruous monument to a railway that never existed. Instead the line turned westward at Akeld, passing through a cutting under the A697 then along the Glen Valley to Yeavering where the crossing keeper’s cottage still exists, then on past the site of Ad Gefrin, the Anglo-Saxon palace of King Edwin, discovered by aerial photography in 1960s. From Kirknewton station, the line continued across the river at Westnewton then on to Kilham station and the sidings used for loading sheep. Here the line veers northwards once more towards Mindrum. An old road sign nearby still points to ‘Mindrum Station’, although now it is just a private house, like all the surviving stations on the line. Shortly after Mindrum, the line joined up with the Kelso–Tweedmouth line, crossing Learmouth viaduct before arriving at Coldstream (Cornhill) station, where one could change trains for Tweedmouth for the main East Coast line, or head westwards to Kelso and beyond.
The Alnwick and Cornhill Railway
by Reverend Dr Stephen Plattern
Railway enthusiast Reverend Dr Stephen Plattern gave a fascinating talk on the Alnwick to Cornhill railway, with reference to other local branch lines such as those to Scots Gap and Rothbury, Seahouses and Kelso to Tweedmouth.
He started by discussing the impressive station at Alnwick, designed by architect William Bell who was also the architect for many other stations on the line. The Duke of Northumberland had to give his permission before building could commence in Alnwick, and clearly only a grand building would suffice for his home town. Part of this station still survives today as Barter Books, which incidentally has a model railway running around above the stacks.
The railway opened in 1887 and was 35 miles in length. It was mainly a freight line, transporting livestock, but a limited passenger service also operated until 1930. Given the sparsity of the local population, and the fact that the stations were often situated some distance from the villages they served, owing to engineering constraints and the whims of local landowners, it is hardly surprising that the service was unsustainable. During the winter of 1948–49 a bridge was washed away south of Mindrum, and in 1949 a further bridge near Ilderton also succumbed to floodwaters. The Mindrum bridge was rebuilt, but the line was insufficiently profitable to justify reconstructing that at Ilderton, particularly under conditions of post-war austerity. However, the line continued to operate in two sections. Freight trains continued to run from Alnwick to Ilderton until the early 1950s, while the section between Wooler and Coldstream (actually Cornhill) survived until 1963, when it succumbed in the Beeching cuts. The line was also used for a time for holiday carriages. Most of the line was single track though the larger stations such as Wooler had double track, serving two platforms, and there was an Island platform at Whittingham.
This line was undoubtedly one of the most picturesque in England. It was connected to the main East Coast line by a further branch adjoining Alnwick to Alnmouth. Some progress has been made in reopening part of this branch as a heritage railway.
The line from Alnwick started off in a south-westerly direction, after about a mile passing through woodland, then four miles further across the magnificent viaduct near Edlingham with fine views of the castle and interesting church. It continued northwards, passing the crenelated eyecatcher (folly) of Levington with views up to the Simonside Hills near Rothbury. After a short tunnel the train would have pulled into Whittingham station, which is visible if you look down towards the north from the bridge near the Bridge of Aln pub. The line continued to Glanton station, then it follows a section (now walkable) mainly parallel with the A697 as it approaches Powburn. The fine iron bridge that carried the line over the river was removed after closure and relocated on the surviving rail network. The next station was Hedgeley, originally to be named Powburn, a far larger community. Further north was Wooperton, the area to the south of this surviving station now occupied by Scott’s Sawmill. The line then passed the landmark Percy’s Cross, to reach the surviving rather grandiose but isolated station at Ilderton. Later this station became for a time a restaurant, and a disused carriage was parked nearby.
Passing over the site of the collapsed bridge that sounded the death knell for the line, the train would shortly have pulled into Wooler, the major stop on the line, with two platforms and a Goods Depot, now the home of Millers Antiques. Beyond Wooler the line meandered its way through Glendale. The next station, again out of all proportion to the community it served, is Akeld. The station, some outbuildings and a signal box still survive and can be seen from the A697.
The first railway proposed for this area was intended to continue northwards from Akeld to Ewart Newtown, where a Railway Hotel was in fact constructed. This building now stands empty beside a farm, an incongruous monument to a railway that never existed. Instead the line turned westward at Akeld, passing through a cutting under the A697 then along the Glen Valley to Yeavering where the crossing keeper’s cottage still exists, then on past the site of Ad Gefrin, the Anglo-Saxon palace of King Edwin, discovered by aerial photography in 1960s. From Kirknewton station, the line continued across the river at Westnewton then on to Kilham station and the sidings used for loading sheep. Here the line veers northwards once more towards Mindrum. An old road sign nearby still points to ‘Mindrum Station’, although now it is just a private house, like all the surviving stations on the line. Shortly after Mindrum, the line joined up with the Kelso–Tweedmouth line, crossing Learmouth viaduct before arriving at Coldstream (Cornhill) station, where one could change trains for Tweedmouth for the main East Coast line, or head westwards to Kelso and beyond.
April 2018
Outing to the Aln Valley Railway
Members of Glendale Local History Society went to visit the Aln Valley Railway, located on the edge of the Lionheart Business Park just outside Alnwick on the far side of the A1. The weather was overcast with a chilly breeze though at least the rain held off until lunchtime.
We assembled in the carpark at the site of the new terminus for the railway, formerly a dome shaped field covering the old Alnwick rubbish tip. We were given a fascinating insight into the history of the line, both past and present. The Alnwick branch line opened in 1850 leaving the mainline at Bilton Junction, later to be renamed Alnmouth. The railway had strategic importance in both World Wars with timber traffic from Whittingham and Thrunton in WW1 and fuel traffic for the local RAF airfields in WW2. It turned out that the original line was not earmarked for closure in the notorious Dr Beeching cuts as it had a frequent, profit-making service from the fine station at Alnwick (now Barter Books) with through trains to Newcastle lasting well into the 1960s. The line became the last branch in the North-East to have steam-hauled passenger trains, which were eventually replaced by DMU’s in 1966. Unfortunately, plans to construct the new A1 Alnwick bypass were the death knell for the line, as it bisected the track bed and the cost of building a bridge over the road were astronomic and uneconomic.
The Aln Valley Trust and Society were created in 1995 and, supported by the Duke of Northumberland, many obstacles were overcome and funding acquired, so that permission was given to begin reconstruction in 2010. Since then with the help of many loyal volunteers the scheme has gone from strength to strength. We visited the site of the proposed new station. The platforms and footbridge are already in position and the far-side platform has a waiting room, attractive old-style advertisements, and trolleys complete with leather suitcases. We visited the workshop where work is progressing on restoring a Victorian carriage and saw a variety of wagons and several exciting, recent acquisitions of steam and diesel locomotives. Other equipment acquired by the Railway includes a water tank, crane, gas lamps and signal levers.
Meanwhile, a small steam loco Richboro was puffing gently in front of two carriages full of excited faces, and a guard’s van. With a toot of the horn, off she went past the newly constructed signal box and impressive gantry of signals down the line to re-join the old track bed at the bottom of a steep incline. A short time later, while we stood at the gate with its interesting old signage at the bottom the platform, a cloud of steam heralded the loco’s return which made a great photo-opportunity. With plenty of steam the train made it up the incline and puffed its way back into the platform.
We boarded the train and took our seats in a comfortable carriage complete with pictures from a local artist, and with another toot we were off and continued for a mile through farm land towards Alnmouth. The young ticket collector gave us some more interesting information en route. At the bridge the train came to a standstill because although the next mile of track is in place it is still awaiting safety checks before it can be used for public trains. With a wave of the guard’s green flag we headed back alongside the proposed cycle track to Lionheart station and a welcome lunchbreak.
The café provided an enjoyable lunch of sandwiches, cakes and hot drinks. After that we had plenty of time to peruse the museum and shop, and explore the site more fully. There was the opportunity to take several more train rides, drive a diesel loco up the siding, under supervision of course, and to stand on the footplate and chat to the driver and fireman of Richboro. Unfortunately the rain had set in by then, but a good time was had by all, and plans were made to visit again with friends or relatives, especially when the line has been extended to Alnmouth.
Outing to the Aln Valley Railway
Members of Glendale Local History Society went to visit the Aln Valley Railway, located on the edge of the Lionheart Business Park just outside Alnwick on the far side of the A1. The weather was overcast with a chilly breeze though at least the rain held off until lunchtime.
We assembled in the carpark at the site of the new terminus for the railway, formerly a dome shaped field covering the old Alnwick rubbish tip. We were given a fascinating insight into the history of the line, both past and present. The Alnwick branch line opened in 1850 leaving the mainline at Bilton Junction, later to be renamed Alnmouth. The railway had strategic importance in both World Wars with timber traffic from Whittingham and Thrunton in WW1 and fuel traffic for the local RAF airfields in WW2. It turned out that the original line was not earmarked for closure in the notorious Dr Beeching cuts as it had a frequent, profit-making service from the fine station at Alnwick (now Barter Books) with through trains to Newcastle lasting well into the 1960s. The line became the last branch in the North-East to have steam-hauled passenger trains, which were eventually replaced by DMU’s in 1966. Unfortunately, plans to construct the new A1 Alnwick bypass were the death knell for the line, as it bisected the track bed and the cost of building a bridge over the road were astronomic and uneconomic.
The Aln Valley Trust and Society were created in 1995 and, supported by the Duke of Northumberland, many obstacles were overcome and funding acquired, so that permission was given to begin reconstruction in 2010. Since then with the help of many loyal volunteers the scheme has gone from strength to strength. We visited the site of the proposed new station. The platforms and footbridge are already in position and the far-side platform has a waiting room, attractive old-style advertisements, and trolleys complete with leather suitcases. We visited the workshop where work is progressing on restoring a Victorian carriage and saw a variety of wagons and several exciting, recent acquisitions of steam and diesel locomotives. Other equipment acquired by the Railway includes a water tank, crane, gas lamps and signal levers.
Meanwhile, a small steam loco Richboro was puffing gently in front of two carriages full of excited faces, and a guard’s van. With a toot of the horn, off she went past the newly constructed signal box and impressive gantry of signals down the line to re-join the old track bed at the bottom of a steep incline. A short time later, while we stood at the gate with its interesting old signage at the bottom the platform, a cloud of steam heralded the loco’s return which made a great photo-opportunity. With plenty of steam the train made it up the incline and puffed its way back into the platform.
We boarded the train and took our seats in a comfortable carriage complete with pictures from a local artist, and with another toot we were off and continued for a mile through farm land towards Alnmouth. The young ticket collector gave us some more interesting information en route. At the bridge the train came to a standstill because although the next mile of track is in place it is still awaiting safety checks before it can be used for public trains. With a wave of the guard’s green flag we headed back alongside the proposed cycle track to Lionheart station and a welcome lunchbreak.
The café provided an enjoyable lunch of sandwiches, cakes and hot drinks. After that we had plenty of time to peruse the museum and shop, and explore the site more fully. There was the opportunity to take several more train rides, drive a diesel loco up the siding, under supervision of course, and to stand on the footplate and chat to the driver and fireman of Richboro. Unfortunately the rain had set in by then, but a good time was had by all, and plans were made to visit again with friends or relatives, especially when the line has been extended to Alnmouth.
April 2018
The last of the wandering minstrels: the life and work of Robert Gray, the Yetholm Poet
by Dr Graeme Watson
Dr Graeme Watson gave us a fascinating talk which vividly evoked the life and times, and poetry of the Yetholm Poet. Graeme, originally from County Durham and now living in Yetholm, has taken a keen interest in the poet and his research has utilised parish records, anecdotes, stories and writings.
Robert Gray, now largely forgotten, in his day was well known on both sides of The Tweed as the Yetholm Poet. Born at Yetholm in 1796, he died a pauper in 1844 at the Glendale Union Workhouse in Wooler (in what is now the Cheviot Centre). Two death notices (one in a Newcastle paper), and a warm and appreciative obituary in The Kelso Chronicle hint that, despite his impoverished and itinerant life, he was fondly appreciated.
Baptismal records show his father (also Robert) was a stocking weaver/crofter. This was a common type of work in the area and a Yetholm Weavers Banner can be seen today in the National Museum of Scotland. Robert senior borrowed heavily to buy a small cottage in Town Yetholm, still existing and now called Huntsman’s Cottage, where Robert the poet spent his childhood. He was lame from birth, perhaps caused by cerebral palsy, and his disability meant he was unable to do manual work, follow a profession or earn a living, so he was dependent on his parents. He was well educated in the parish school and it was soon known that he had a gift for verse, though he often had to ask others to write it down for him. His simplistic poetry was wide-ranging and reflected this education, sometimes drawing on the classics, sometimes influenced by Robbie Burns, sometimes idealistic or romantic.
In 1817 Robert (The Poet) married Agnes Brown, in an irregular marriage. They had one son who died aged 20. In 1825 after the death of his father with debts outstanding, Robert had to sell the cottage. His poor health and disability coupled with a liking for the whisky, were disadvantages and it maybe from then that he started wandering from place to place, spiralling gently downwards. Records show that in 1827 his wife Agnes applied for parish relief from Kelso; there is no further mention of her. 1834 saw the introduction of The New Poor Law, with poor relief based on the workhouse test and system. The loss of outdoor relief may have eventually forced him into the Wooler workhouse. However, for many years the Yetholm Poet was certainly a well recognised Border character, who spent much of his life wandering about the lanes and reciting his poetry whenever he could and perhaps with a wee dram in mind.
His three published works are: Poems, On Various Subjects, Kelso 1813; The Evening Companion (miscellany of prose and verse), Hawick 1817; and A Poem on the Death of Princess Charlotte of Wales, with other poems, Jedburgh 1820. A copy of each is held by the National Library of Scotland. His last poem, The Emigrant, about those sailing for a new life in Canada, was published in the Berwick Advertiser in 1838. He was a contemporary of Robert Davidson, the Morebattle Poet (1778–1855) but it is not clear whether they knew each other.
For more information, see Graeme Watson’s book: The Last of the Wandering Minstrels, Selected Poems of Robert Gray The Yetholm Poet, Culver Press. 2016, which is beautifully illustrated by his daughter Beatrice Smith. Graeme is currently writing a book about James Thomson, another Border poet.
The last of the wandering minstrels: the life and work of Robert Gray, the Yetholm Poet
by Dr Graeme Watson
Dr Graeme Watson gave us a fascinating talk which vividly evoked the life and times, and poetry of the Yetholm Poet. Graeme, originally from County Durham and now living in Yetholm, has taken a keen interest in the poet and his research has utilised parish records, anecdotes, stories and writings.
Robert Gray, now largely forgotten, in his day was well known on both sides of The Tweed as the Yetholm Poet. Born at Yetholm in 1796, he died a pauper in 1844 at the Glendale Union Workhouse in Wooler (in what is now the Cheviot Centre). Two death notices (one in a Newcastle paper), and a warm and appreciative obituary in The Kelso Chronicle hint that, despite his impoverished and itinerant life, he was fondly appreciated.
Baptismal records show his father (also Robert) was a stocking weaver/crofter. This was a common type of work in the area and a Yetholm Weavers Banner can be seen today in the National Museum of Scotland. Robert senior borrowed heavily to buy a small cottage in Town Yetholm, still existing and now called Huntsman’s Cottage, where Robert the poet spent his childhood. He was lame from birth, perhaps caused by cerebral palsy, and his disability meant he was unable to do manual work, follow a profession or earn a living, so he was dependent on his parents. He was well educated in the parish school and it was soon known that he had a gift for verse, though he often had to ask others to write it down for him. His simplistic poetry was wide-ranging and reflected this education, sometimes drawing on the classics, sometimes influenced by Robbie Burns, sometimes idealistic or romantic.
In 1817 Robert (The Poet) married Agnes Brown, in an irregular marriage. They had one son who died aged 20. In 1825 after the death of his father with debts outstanding, Robert had to sell the cottage. His poor health and disability coupled with a liking for the whisky, were disadvantages and it maybe from then that he started wandering from place to place, spiralling gently downwards. Records show that in 1827 his wife Agnes applied for parish relief from Kelso; there is no further mention of her. 1834 saw the introduction of The New Poor Law, with poor relief based on the workhouse test and system. The loss of outdoor relief may have eventually forced him into the Wooler workhouse. However, for many years the Yetholm Poet was certainly a well recognised Border character, who spent much of his life wandering about the lanes and reciting his poetry whenever he could and perhaps with a wee dram in mind.
His three published works are: Poems, On Various Subjects, Kelso 1813; The Evening Companion (miscellany of prose and verse), Hawick 1817; and A Poem on the Death of Princess Charlotte of Wales, with other poems, Jedburgh 1820. A copy of each is held by the National Library of Scotland. His last poem, The Emigrant, about those sailing for a new life in Canada, was published in the Berwick Advertiser in 1838. He was a contemporary of Robert Davidson, the Morebattle Poet (1778–1855) but it is not clear whether they knew each other.
For more information, see Graeme Watson’s book: The Last of the Wandering Minstrels, Selected Poems of Robert Gray The Yetholm Poet, Culver Press. 2016, which is beautifully illustrated by his daughter Beatrice Smith. Graeme is currently writing a book about James Thomson, another Border poet.
October 2018
Northumberland Place Names
by Dr Jonathan West
‘What’s in a name’? Linguist and place-name specialist Dr Jonathan West initiated us into the complexities of working out the meaning of place names. Many of us know that the meaning of ‘Wooler’, where we have our meetings, has nothing to do with wool or even sheep. But how do we know this? And how to decide between several different theories about its name?
Our speaker made it clear that we should never take for granted an apparently obvious origin for a place name. Instead we have to delve into the archives for records where places are mentioned. And when we do so, we will find that spellings vary from document to document. This happened, our speaker explained, because until the seventeenth century or so, few people could read and write, and so did not think about how the name they used to refer to a place was spelt. Instead, clerks representing perhaps landlords, or church authorities, had to write down what people told them. And, just as now, people from outside Northumberland often find it difficult to pronounce the names seen on signs, or spell the names referred to them in local accents.
But where do place names come from in the first place? Sometimes it is possible to track down a specific origin, as when a place is named after someone of whom a record can be found in a relevant document. However, for many names, the skills of a linguist are needed. In Northumberland, this means having a deep knowledge of the Old English and Brittonic (or Welsh) languages, which predominate in the place names to be found in the county. Elements like ‘lee’, ‘law’, ‘ham’ , ‘haugh’ and ‘ho’ indicate that names were given by the Anglo-Saxons who came into our area from the sixth century or so. Sometimes, these are combined with earlier Brittonic elements. Dr West used as an example Pendle Hill in Lancashire, a very striking feature in the local landscape there. Pendle is a combination of the Brittonic word for hill, combined with Old English ‘hyl’, contracted to Pendle, and then with ‘Hill’ added for us moderns who have forgotten these old words. As a result, Pendle hill means ‘hill-hill-hill’. Brittonic words, it turns out, commonly survive in landscape features such as rivers. Our Celtic ancestors sometimes named rivers after gods and goddesses, with the river Severn recalling the goddess Sabrina. Or else they just used a term for river, as with the Avon. In Northumberland, the Aln, the Till and the Tyne are all Brittonic names. Interestingly, linguistic specialists have been able to find parallels between such names and their equivalents across western Europe.
Dr West helped us to understand these naming complexities by explaining that we had to think of place name origins in terms of settlement history, each linguistic group contributing its own layer of naming, with all kinds of dialect variations in each period to add to the interpretive challenge. Place name evidence in Northumberland reflects the predominance of the Iron Age Brittonic tribes living in our area before, during and after the Roman period. It was these tribes who interacted with the Anglo-Saxon groups as they filtered in from across the North Sea. Presumably, these immigrants asked local people what key features in the landscape were called and then proceeded to stake their claim to their own villages, creating names such as Eglingham, Edlingham and Roddam.
Dr West said that there is very little sign of Viking place names, in contrast to Yorkshire and Lancashire. This supports other evidence of a strongly Anglo-Saxon society in Northumberland and the Scottish Eastern Borders throughout the period of Viking settlement and control of other parts of the British Isles. Then along came the Normans. Our speaker suggested their main contribution was in writing down the names of places, as part of their project of taking control of the country.
Where then does the name Wooler come from? Place name detectives have two theories. One tracks down the meaning to a ‘spring’ on a ‘ridge’, both from Old English. The other suggests the name comes from ‘wolf’ combined with ‘slope’. Our speaker favoured the former, linking the name to the configuration of the Kettles Hill above Wooler with the Pinwell below.
In case we too wanted to become place name detectives, Dr West encouraged us to look at his recent book, Place Names of Old Northumberland.
Northumberland Place Names
by Dr Jonathan West
‘What’s in a name’? Linguist and place-name specialist Dr Jonathan West initiated us into the complexities of working out the meaning of place names. Many of us know that the meaning of ‘Wooler’, where we have our meetings, has nothing to do with wool or even sheep. But how do we know this? And how to decide between several different theories about its name?
Our speaker made it clear that we should never take for granted an apparently obvious origin for a place name. Instead we have to delve into the archives for records where places are mentioned. And when we do so, we will find that spellings vary from document to document. This happened, our speaker explained, because until the seventeenth century or so, few people could read and write, and so did not think about how the name they used to refer to a place was spelt. Instead, clerks representing perhaps landlords, or church authorities, had to write down what people told them. And, just as now, people from outside Northumberland often find it difficult to pronounce the names seen on signs, or spell the names referred to them in local accents.
But where do place names come from in the first place? Sometimes it is possible to track down a specific origin, as when a place is named after someone of whom a record can be found in a relevant document. However, for many names, the skills of a linguist are needed. In Northumberland, this means having a deep knowledge of the Old English and Brittonic (or Welsh) languages, which predominate in the place names to be found in the county. Elements like ‘lee’, ‘law’, ‘ham’ , ‘haugh’ and ‘ho’ indicate that names were given by the Anglo-Saxons who came into our area from the sixth century or so. Sometimes, these are combined with earlier Brittonic elements. Dr West used as an example Pendle Hill in Lancashire, a very striking feature in the local landscape there. Pendle is a combination of the Brittonic word for hill, combined with Old English ‘hyl’, contracted to Pendle, and then with ‘Hill’ added for us moderns who have forgotten these old words. As a result, Pendle hill means ‘hill-hill-hill’. Brittonic words, it turns out, commonly survive in landscape features such as rivers. Our Celtic ancestors sometimes named rivers after gods and goddesses, with the river Severn recalling the goddess Sabrina. Or else they just used a term for river, as with the Avon. In Northumberland, the Aln, the Till and the Tyne are all Brittonic names. Interestingly, linguistic specialists have been able to find parallels between such names and their equivalents across western Europe.
Dr West helped us to understand these naming complexities by explaining that we had to think of place name origins in terms of settlement history, each linguistic group contributing its own layer of naming, with all kinds of dialect variations in each period to add to the interpretive challenge. Place name evidence in Northumberland reflects the predominance of the Iron Age Brittonic tribes living in our area before, during and after the Roman period. It was these tribes who interacted with the Anglo-Saxon groups as they filtered in from across the North Sea. Presumably, these immigrants asked local people what key features in the landscape were called and then proceeded to stake their claim to their own villages, creating names such as Eglingham, Edlingham and Roddam.
Dr West said that there is very little sign of Viking place names, in contrast to Yorkshire and Lancashire. This supports other evidence of a strongly Anglo-Saxon society in Northumberland and the Scottish Eastern Borders throughout the period of Viking settlement and control of other parts of the British Isles. Then along came the Normans. Our speaker suggested their main contribution was in writing down the names of places, as part of their project of taking control of the country.
Where then does the name Wooler come from? Place name detectives have two theories. One tracks down the meaning to a ‘spring’ on a ‘ridge’, both from Old English. The other suggests the name comes from ‘wolf’ combined with ‘slope’. Our speaker favoured the former, linking the name to the configuration of the Kettles Hill above Wooler with the Pinwell below.
In case we too wanted to become place name detectives, Dr West encouraged us to look at his recent book, Place Names of Old Northumberland.
November 2018
Trench Art in the North East
by Dr Andrew Marriott
Dr Marriott began by defining ‘trench art’ as anything which is used to prosecute war which has been turned into something decorative and possibly memorial. Samples can be seen in the National Museum of Scotland.
Napoleonic POWs made bone models of ships to sell. In the Boer War, when naval guns were brought ashore the seafaring tradition of decorative scrimshaw work on bone was adopted by soldiers.
In WWI, trench art was made either by individuals or on an industrial scale – often a cottage industry – with soldiers and displaced civilians working in an assembly line with very basic tools to mass-produce items to acquire money or benefits. The often-intricate artefacts were targeted at soldiers returning home and civilians on pilgrimage to battle sites, and are difficult to date.
We were able to examine a number of brass, aluminium and copper items including a model of a tank, a jug, a bracelet, a bell and vases, mostly naively worked by untrained men, and an elaborate clock made by Sapper Pearl, an Australian engineer who was clearly a craftsman. A form of recycling, all the components – made from ammunition including detonator caps, a German bullet, a copper drive belt and shell cases of different sizes, would have been familiar to allied soldiers in WWI. (From 1914–16, anyone found using shell cases would be court-martialled, because the cases were sent back to the UK for refilling and reused up to four times. Enemy shell cases could be used because they wouldn’t fit British army guns.)
Most pieces had not been made in the trenches, but behind the lines. In the course of excavations in northern France for the TGV, a stash of trench art was found in a German POW camp.
Some trench art was subversive, cocking a snook at authority: an army biscuit tin was turned into a photograph frame, inscribed with the words ‘Give us this day our daily bread’ and also ‘Our king and country need us, but this is how they feed us’.
Sometimes the art was memorial: soldiers of the Durham Light Infantry used military timber to form crosses for the dead at the Somme, some with graffiti and others with careful writing on the reverse. A piece of a wounded soldier’s thigh bone was formed into a brooch for his fiancée; the heart motif was rarely used, rather flowers alluded to love.
All ranks in Field Marshall Haig’s staff were involved: in recorded interviews they described making or buying umbrella stands, candlesticks and paper knives.
Many pieces have survived over 100 years, presumably because these poignant memorabilia were placed in a prominent position and became heirlooms, symbols of respect for the maker or giver.
Victoria Crosses are perhaps the most well-known trench art, made exclusively by Hancocks, the London jewellers, and said to be made from bronze from the Russian guns seized at the Siege of Sevastopol (1855) (though Dr Marriott’s research suggests that some of the metal may have a different source).
A more recent example of trench art is the Camp Bastion cross, paraded at St Paul’s Cathedral and now in the National Memorial Arboretum.
Dr Marriott’s talk and the artefacts showed us that in trench art, human ingenuity and creativity survives in the most appalling circumstances.
Trench Art in the North East
by Dr Andrew Marriott
Dr Marriott began by defining ‘trench art’ as anything which is used to prosecute war which has been turned into something decorative and possibly memorial. Samples can be seen in the National Museum of Scotland.
Napoleonic POWs made bone models of ships to sell. In the Boer War, when naval guns were brought ashore the seafaring tradition of decorative scrimshaw work on bone was adopted by soldiers.
In WWI, trench art was made either by individuals or on an industrial scale – often a cottage industry – with soldiers and displaced civilians working in an assembly line with very basic tools to mass-produce items to acquire money or benefits. The often-intricate artefacts were targeted at soldiers returning home and civilians on pilgrimage to battle sites, and are difficult to date.
We were able to examine a number of brass, aluminium and copper items including a model of a tank, a jug, a bracelet, a bell and vases, mostly naively worked by untrained men, and an elaborate clock made by Sapper Pearl, an Australian engineer who was clearly a craftsman. A form of recycling, all the components – made from ammunition including detonator caps, a German bullet, a copper drive belt and shell cases of different sizes, would have been familiar to allied soldiers in WWI. (From 1914–16, anyone found using shell cases would be court-martialled, because the cases were sent back to the UK for refilling and reused up to four times. Enemy shell cases could be used because they wouldn’t fit British army guns.)
Most pieces had not been made in the trenches, but behind the lines. In the course of excavations in northern France for the TGV, a stash of trench art was found in a German POW camp.
Some trench art was subversive, cocking a snook at authority: an army biscuit tin was turned into a photograph frame, inscribed with the words ‘Give us this day our daily bread’ and also ‘Our king and country need us, but this is how they feed us’.
Sometimes the art was memorial: soldiers of the Durham Light Infantry used military timber to form crosses for the dead at the Somme, some with graffiti and others with careful writing on the reverse. A piece of a wounded soldier’s thigh bone was formed into a brooch for his fiancée; the heart motif was rarely used, rather flowers alluded to love.
All ranks in Field Marshall Haig’s staff were involved: in recorded interviews they described making or buying umbrella stands, candlesticks and paper knives.
Many pieces have survived over 100 years, presumably because these poignant memorabilia were placed in a prominent position and became heirlooms, symbols of respect for the maker or giver.
Victoria Crosses are perhaps the most well-known trench art, made exclusively by Hancocks, the London jewellers, and said to be made from bronze from the Russian guns seized at the Siege of Sevastopol (1855) (though Dr Marriott’s research suggests that some of the metal may have a different source).
A more recent example of trench art is the Camp Bastion cross, paraded at St Paul’s Cathedral and now in the National Memorial Arboretum.
Dr Marriott’s talk and the artefacts showed us that in trench art, human ingenuity and creativity survives in the most appalling circumstances.
November 2018
A special event commemorating the end of World War
The Home Front in World War I – what we in the North East would have experienced
by Anthea Lang
Our usual focus on the Great War is the appalling loss of life and health of the armed forces, but, on this occasion, attention was given to the impact of the war of the civilian population.
Unlike WWII, WWI was not expected. Most people were not aware that war was likely until 2 weeks before war was declared. The important issues of the day were the militant suffragettes and the Irish question, rather than international treaties and the assassination of the Hapsburg heir.
On 1st August, life went on as usual. The TAs were at camp (their role was to defend the UK, not fight abroad). The Fusiliers were training at Alnwick and Hexham. Boy Scouts were stationed along the routes to disembarkation ports (on the south coast).
By 12th August, foodstuffs were being stockpiled, but it was widely said that “The war will be over by Christmas”.
The Defence of the Realm Act (DORA) brought in regulations including no keeping of pigeons, no flying planes or lighting bonfires, no buying guns or binoculars, and taking control of the railways, effectively nationalising them.
German immigrants were regarded with suspicion, even those who were naturalised, especially ‘aliens’ (those born outside the UK). Many Germans anglicised their names, for example the royal family (called Saxe-Coburg Gotha) became Windsor.
Kitchener expected the war to take time. Kitchener’s New Army recruited widely. The Tyneside Fusiliers did not accept Irish and Scottish, so they formed their own battalions. The ‘bantams’, no taller than 5 ft 3”, went into a designated unit. The Northumberland Fusiliers included a Cycle battalion; one of its advertisements read ‘Bad teeth no bar’, and a 1916 advert was headed ‘Free Trip to Europe’.
Large buildings such as schools and stately homes were requisitioned for use as hospitals and for training. Public notices challenged the wealthy about their need for male servants, and the famous advert applied to the middle ranks read ‘What did you do in the war, Daddy?’
Women were encouraged to give white feathers for cowardice to the men who remained, though this was often unjustified as the men were engaged in essential work such as producing food, or debarred as a result of ill health. Eventually the government issued badges for those in reserved occupations.
Initially it was thought that the cavalry would win the war, so horses were conscripted, causing severe hardship, especially to farmers.
There were many fundraising events and appeals, for example for the Belgian refugees, Armenia Day, and The Wounded. Schoolchildren were exhorted to save their pocket money pennies to buy sweets for soldiers. Belgians were told to flee, either to the Netherlands or the UK, but when they arrived in England their different lifestyle caused some friction.
Knitting became a significant part of the war effort, producing balaclavas, socks, sweaters and seamen’s helmets. ‘Kitchener stitch’ was used to eliminate a ridge in socks which could contribute to trench foot, important for men in the trenches.
The postal service to the front was highly efficient. Wooler on Monday, front on Friday! Readymade Christmas boxes could be bought.
The quality of army uniforms declined as the war progressed. Fenwick’s and Bainbridge’s made to measure the officers’ uniforms, with better quality cloth; and everyone needed mourning clothes, a custom which died out as the war progressed.
Women of all classes were employed in jobs previously though unsuitable or impossible for them. Two months’ training was planned for female tram clippies, but the women mastered the requisite skills in two weeks! Jarrow had a ladies fire brigade. Women worked in the Women’s Land army and in heavy industry, so for safety their clothes had to change. Skirts became shorter, some women even wore trousers – though with skirts on top. Liberty bodices replaced restrictive corsets for those engaged in manual work.
Near Gateshead was Elizabeth Isle, a unique Belgian colony which produced munitions. For that work women could not use pins in their long hair, which had to be kept out of machinery under elasticated cap.
The football league stopped, but there were local teams, including the ladies munitionettes including Palmers at Jarrow and the Blythe Sparkles.
Training trenches were dug at Rothbury and Otterburn. Seaplanes were launched at the coast.
In December 1914 the Scarborough bombing shook the nation. It was a totally unexpected attack on the civilian population and prompted more volunteers for the army. In 1915, a Zeppelin randomly offloaded bombs on Cramlington and Bedlington, showing that all coastal towns were at risk.
The sinking of the Lusitania similarly targeted civilians, provoking riots against German immigrants in North Shields, Liverpool and Gateshead, and the consequent internment of even naturalised Germans.
British summertime was introduced in 1916 to increase agricultural production.
Existing hospitals such as RVI became military hospitals. Long convalescence was provided in country houses such as Howick Hall, staffed largely by women volunteers in ‘hospital blues’ uniform.
The war also affected diet. Lloyd George (opposed by Asquith) promoted temperance, and basic foods including flour/bread and sugar were rationed: ‘Complete the victory – eat less bread’. People were encouraged to grow their own vegetables.
The ‘Battle of the Somme’ film, shot in June 1916 to be shown to mark the victory which eventually came in November, was screened in August. It caused widespread panic; no doubt some viewers recognised their menfolk in dire circumstances.
Many children were given names relating to the war: some referred to the battle where their father had died, such as over 900 children called ‘Verdun’, many were called ‘Peace’ or ‘Peaceful’, and there was at least one ‘Zeppelina’.
Anthea Lang’s talk explained how much of our modern world began to evolve. Despite the huge loss of life and immense disruption of the war, with the benefit of hindsight we can be grateful for the huge social changes brought about by life on the home front, especially in the relationships between people of different stations in life and the role of women.
A special event commemorating the end of World War
The Home Front in World War I – what we in the North East would have experienced
by Anthea Lang
Our usual focus on the Great War is the appalling loss of life and health of the armed forces, but, on this occasion, attention was given to the impact of the war of the civilian population.
Unlike WWII, WWI was not expected. Most people were not aware that war was likely until 2 weeks before war was declared. The important issues of the day were the militant suffragettes and the Irish question, rather than international treaties and the assassination of the Hapsburg heir.
On 1st August, life went on as usual. The TAs were at camp (their role was to defend the UK, not fight abroad). The Fusiliers were training at Alnwick and Hexham. Boy Scouts were stationed along the routes to disembarkation ports (on the south coast).
By 12th August, foodstuffs were being stockpiled, but it was widely said that “The war will be over by Christmas”.
The Defence of the Realm Act (DORA) brought in regulations including no keeping of pigeons, no flying planes or lighting bonfires, no buying guns or binoculars, and taking control of the railways, effectively nationalising them.
German immigrants were regarded with suspicion, even those who were naturalised, especially ‘aliens’ (those born outside the UK). Many Germans anglicised their names, for example the royal family (called Saxe-Coburg Gotha) became Windsor.
Kitchener expected the war to take time. Kitchener’s New Army recruited widely. The Tyneside Fusiliers did not accept Irish and Scottish, so they formed their own battalions. The ‘bantams’, no taller than 5 ft 3”, went into a designated unit. The Northumberland Fusiliers included a Cycle battalion; one of its advertisements read ‘Bad teeth no bar’, and a 1916 advert was headed ‘Free Trip to Europe’.
Large buildings such as schools and stately homes were requisitioned for use as hospitals and for training. Public notices challenged the wealthy about their need for male servants, and the famous advert applied to the middle ranks read ‘What did you do in the war, Daddy?’
Women were encouraged to give white feathers for cowardice to the men who remained, though this was often unjustified as the men were engaged in essential work such as producing food, or debarred as a result of ill health. Eventually the government issued badges for those in reserved occupations.
Initially it was thought that the cavalry would win the war, so horses were conscripted, causing severe hardship, especially to farmers.
There were many fundraising events and appeals, for example for the Belgian refugees, Armenia Day, and The Wounded. Schoolchildren were exhorted to save their pocket money pennies to buy sweets for soldiers. Belgians were told to flee, either to the Netherlands or the UK, but when they arrived in England their different lifestyle caused some friction.
Knitting became a significant part of the war effort, producing balaclavas, socks, sweaters and seamen’s helmets. ‘Kitchener stitch’ was used to eliminate a ridge in socks which could contribute to trench foot, important for men in the trenches.
The postal service to the front was highly efficient. Wooler on Monday, front on Friday! Readymade Christmas boxes could be bought.
The quality of army uniforms declined as the war progressed. Fenwick’s and Bainbridge’s made to measure the officers’ uniforms, with better quality cloth; and everyone needed mourning clothes, a custom which died out as the war progressed.
Women of all classes were employed in jobs previously though unsuitable or impossible for them. Two months’ training was planned for female tram clippies, but the women mastered the requisite skills in two weeks! Jarrow had a ladies fire brigade. Women worked in the Women’s Land army and in heavy industry, so for safety their clothes had to change. Skirts became shorter, some women even wore trousers – though with skirts on top. Liberty bodices replaced restrictive corsets for those engaged in manual work.
Near Gateshead was Elizabeth Isle, a unique Belgian colony which produced munitions. For that work women could not use pins in their long hair, which had to be kept out of machinery under elasticated cap.
The football league stopped, but there were local teams, including the ladies munitionettes including Palmers at Jarrow and the Blythe Sparkles.
Training trenches were dug at Rothbury and Otterburn. Seaplanes were launched at the coast.
In December 1914 the Scarborough bombing shook the nation. It was a totally unexpected attack on the civilian population and prompted more volunteers for the army. In 1915, a Zeppelin randomly offloaded bombs on Cramlington and Bedlington, showing that all coastal towns were at risk.
The sinking of the Lusitania similarly targeted civilians, provoking riots against German immigrants in North Shields, Liverpool and Gateshead, and the consequent internment of even naturalised Germans.
British summertime was introduced in 1916 to increase agricultural production.
Existing hospitals such as RVI became military hospitals. Long convalescence was provided in country houses such as Howick Hall, staffed largely by women volunteers in ‘hospital blues’ uniform.
The war also affected diet. Lloyd George (opposed by Asquith) promoted temperance, and basic foods including flour/bread and sugar were rationed: ‘Complete the victory – eat less bread’. People were encouraged to grow their own vegetables.
The ‘Battle of the Somme’ film, shot in June 1916 to be shown to mark the victory which eventually came in November, was screened in August. It caused widespread panic; no doubt some viewers recognised their menfolk in dire circumstances.
Many children were given names relating to the war: some referred to the battle where their father had died, such as over 900 children called ‘Verdun’, many were called ‘Peace’ or ‘Peaceful’, and there was at least one ‘Zeppelina’.
Anthea Lang’s talk explained how much of our modern world began to evolve. Despite the huge loss of life and immense disruption of the war, with the benefit of hindsight we can be grateful for the huge social changes brought about by life on the home front, especially in the relationships between people of different stations in life and the role of women.