Tag Archives: Heaton Road

To Heaton for Love: an artist’s life

What do the present queen and her 16th century namesake; Vivien Leigh (in the roles of Cleopatra and Blanche DuBois); scenes from Romeo and Juliet and these ‘builders’ have in common?

 

lawrencebuildersbankofeng1087-a4web

‘The Builders’ by A K Lawrence Copyright: The Governor and Company of the Bank of England

 

A clue – naturally, there’s a Heaton connection. No, nothing to do with The People’s Theatre but, yes, the answer is arts related. They were all depicted by a notable artist who spent part of his life in Heaton. Not Kingsley Place’s John Gilroy (though he too painted the Queen) nor John Wallace (landscapes were more his forte) but a painter still more lauded in fine art circles. You may not have heard of him but you may well have seen his work.

Early life

Alfred Kingsley Lawrence was born in Lewes, Sussex on 4 October 1893, the third son of Fanny Beatrice and Herbert Lawrence, a solicitor. His father, however, died, when Alfred was only around a year old and when the boy was just three years old, his mother remarried  George Giffin, a customs officer.

By 1901, while Fanny continued to live in Lewes with the children (by now there was a younger half brother, George junior too), her husband seems to have relocated to Newcastle (We don’t know why.) and was living in Roxburgh Place in Heaton.  The family eventually followed, although one of Alfred’s older brothers, Frederick, had died in 1906, aged 14 in Sussex.  By 1911, they were living in Sandyford.  Alfred, now 17, was a ‘civil engineer’s clerk and student’.

He was, in fact, a student at the King Edward VII School of Art, Armstrong College, where his teachers included Professor Richard Hatton, who was soon to found the Newcastle University gallery which still bears his name. A local newspaper article in 1925 said that ‘not since the[ school of art] was founded has a student displayed such conspicuous talent or worked so consistently and with such conspicuous talent as a student of painting’.

Alfred won the John Christie scholarship, aged 18, in 1912; the School Medal for the most brilliant student in his year in 1913 as well as Silver Medal s awarded by the Royal College of Art in both 1913 and 1914. In the latter year, he was also awarded a Royal Exhibition Scholarship tenable at the Royal College of Art in London.

But by now the country was at war.

Heaton wife

It was apparently while at the King Edward VII School of Art that Alfred met his future wife, Margaret Crawford Younger, a Heaton lass. Margaret was the daughter of Robert Younger, a marine engineer, and his wife, Catherine, who lived at  42 Heaton Road. The family were very comfortably off: the 1901 census shows a governess lived with the family, presumably to home school the four daughters.

By 1911, Robert had retired: local trade directories now refer to him as a ‘Gentleman’ and no occupations are listed in the census for the daughters, now aged between 21 and 27. Alfred married Margaret on 26 June 1915 and joined his wife at his parents in law’s on Heaton Road (by now known as Elmire House), although mostly he was away from home.

War Service

In 1914, he had voluntarily joined the Northumberland Fusiliers’ 19th battalion (2nd Tyneside Pioneers), which was posted to France in 1916. Alfred, a Second Lieutenant, was mentioned in despatches in January 1917, most likely for his actions during the latter stages of the Battle of the Somme. Upon discharge in 1919, he resumed his scholarship at the Royal College of Art. He won a travelling scholarship to Italy in 1922 and in 1923 won the prestigious Prix de Rome, which allowed him to study in Rome for  three years. Paintings by Lawrence during this period and during his military service can readily be found on line. Influenced by his time in Italy, he often painted classical themes.

Success

From this point on,  commissions came thick and fast and Alfred’s adopted city was among the first in the queue. The Hatton Gallery owns two works ‘Male Nude’ and ‘Female Nude’ painted in 1922 (hopefully they’ll be on display when the gallery reopens later this year) and his magnificent ‘The Building of Hadrian’s Bridge (Pons Aelii) over the Tyne, c122’ is in the Laing. (But not on display at the time of writing).

When next you’re in London, head to  St Stephen’s Hall in the Houses of Parliament,where you’ll find his ‘Queen Elizabeth Commissions Sir Walter Raleigh to Discover Unknown Lands, 1584’ and to the Bank of England, which commissioned a group of large oil paintings, of which the above work is one.

In 1930, Lawrence was elected an Associate of the Royal Academy and in 1938 he became a Royal Academician, a huge honour for an artist. The photograph below shows the Academicians selecting works for the 1939 summer exhibition. AK Lawrence is nearest the camera on the right. The president, Sir Edwin Landseer Lutyens is holding a letter D, which stands for ‘doubtful’ (for inclusion in the exhibition).

 

lawrenceakroyalacademypl008609

Royal Academicians, 1939 Copyright: Royal Academy of Arts, London

 

Lawrence himself exhibited in the Royal Academy’s summer exhibition almost much every year from 1929 until his death, a period of almost 50 years.

His ‘Study for Leda’ was presented to the Queen as part of the institution’s coronation gift in 195 3 and is now in the Royal Collection. His painting ‘Elizabeth II at the State Opening of Parliament 1962’ is in the Parliamentary Art Collection.

Character

In the 1920s, the young Alfred was described as ‘shy of temperament but studious and painstaking, with sound and erudite knowledge and the crowning gift of imagination. He has high ideals and his conception of art, particularly in the employment of the figure, is lofty and virile’.

Lawrence’s entry in the ‘Dictionary of National Biography’  refers to his great interest in the theatre and suggests that that he might have been a successful professional actor ‘particularly in heroic roles. He was a tall, dignified man with a resounding voice, a stalwart in debate, forthright in his adherence to traditions and rather grand in his renderings of Shakespeare (We wonder, did Lawrence,  before he left Newcastle for London,  see his Heaton neighbour, Colin Veitch, play Falstaff in  the People’s first Shakespeare production in 1921?)… he was a stickler for the correct use of words…strongly against the use of photography or substitution for good draughtsmanship’.

The article also states that Margaret, with whom he had been married since their days on Heaton Road during WW1, died in 1960, after which ‘AK’, as he was known, became a rather solitary figure. Their son, Julius, had emigrated to New Zealand.

Legacy

Alfred Kingsley Lawrence died suddenly on 5 April 1975 at his London home. His legacy is his art, however.

In addition to the works already mentioned, Lawrence paintings and drawings are in the collections of National Portrait Gallery; Victoria and Albert Museum;  Imperial War Museum;  Scottish National Portrait Gallery;  National Trust; Queens College, Cambridge; Guildhall Art Gallery; Royal Society;  Royal Air Force Museum and many other collections, both public and private. Digital copies of many of those in public collections can be seen here.

As recently as April 2015, A K Lawrence’s classically inspired ‘Persephone’ (1938) was the Royal Academy’s ‘Object of the Month’ and in December of the same year, the ‘Daily Telegraph’ illustrated an article about the government owned works being hidden from public view with a Lawrence painting.

And now, at last, Heaton, where he found love, has paid tribute to him.

Acknowledgements

This article was written by Chris Jackson, Heaton History Group. Research was carried out by Joe Chipchase, Christopher Durrans and Chris Jackson.

Can you help?

If you know more about Alfred Kingsley Lawrence or have photos of him or works by him that you’re happy to share or if you know of any other eminent artist with a Heaton connection, we’d love to hear from you. Either click on the link below the article title to post direct to this website or email chris.jackson@heatonhistorygroup.org.

A Hundred Years of Heaton Sprouts

A hundred years ago today (ie 22 December 1916), Newcastle Corporation announced that it would be making land available across the city for individuals to cultivate in order to grow food. Seed, manure and implements would be provided at cost price. The intention was that the council-owned  land would only be made available for the duration of the war. The Corporation was also negotiating with private landowners to make more plots available in the future.

sprouts

In Heaton, the sites to be made available by the Corporation included: between Heaton and Armstrong Parks and Ouseburn; between Ouseburn and Armstrong Park; Jesmond Park; Stephenson Road; North end of Chillingham Road; Biddlestone Road; Warton Terrace; after no 134 Heaton Road; north end of Heaton Road. A few of these sites still exist today, of course. (If you have any old photos or information about any of those mentioned, please get in touch).

The first applications on Christmas Day would have preference. And so, it seems appropriate for Heaton History Group to commemorate the centenary of  allotments in Heaton – and at the same time wish everyone ‘A Very Merry Christmas’. Enjoy your parsnips, Brussels sprouts and other veg, especially if they’re allotment grown!

Heaton Herbals

In the Newcastle trade directories from 1914-1923 the head of household of 2 Warwick Street, Heaton,  George Kingdon, was described as a ‘herbalist’. We decided to try to find out more about Mr Kingdon and the practice of herbal medicine in Newcastle and, especially, Heaton. Our research threw up some fascinating characters.

A bit of history

The practice of looking for therapeutic properties in plants dates back thousands of years, with the ‘Pen Tsao’ or ‘The Great Herbal of China’ dating back to c3000BC and the ‘Ebers’ papyrus, which listed around 700 herbal medicine used in Egypt, to about 2000BC. In ancient Rome, Pliny believed that there was a specific herbal remedy for every disorder, if only it could be found.

In Britain, Nicolas Culpepper’s ‘English Physician and Complete Herbal’ was published in the middle of the seventeenth century but, unlike in ancient China, Egypt and Rome, Culpepper incorporated magic and astrology into his work. When belief in magic faded, the popularity of herbalism waned too, although small herbal shops continued to exist, particularly in the north of England. In 1864 the National Institute of Medical Herbalists, was founded to improve standards, although old-style unqualified herbalists continued to practise.

Consumptive Cure

One of the most well known practitioners in Newcastle certainly wasn’t qualified. We might well consider him a ‘quack’ but his name will be familiar to anyone who lived in Newcastle before the mid 1980s. He’s George Handyside, who was born in Newton on the Moor, Northumberland in 1821. He started out as a shoe manufacturer and retailer in Berwick upon Tweed but soon had over 50 shops across north east England. By 1855, he had moved to Elswick in Newcastle and started to invest in property and, in 1888, he began a new business, as a ‘maker and vendor of medicinal cures’.

HerbalHandysidecartoon

Handyside’s most famous product was a ‘cure‘ for consumption but he also advertised ‘Blood Food’, ‘Blood Purifier’, ‘Blood Medicine’ and ‘Nerve Restorer’ (said to cure all appetite for alcohol), amongst other things. He’d hit on another successful business idea in the days before the NHS when, not only did conventional medicine not offer treatments for many common conditions, but also treatment by a doctor was beyond the means of many people.

George Handyside himself lived a long life. He died on 6 May 1904. His funeral was a huge affair with more than 1,000 mourners, mainly poorer people who believed they had benefitted from his medicines, along with those who remembered him as kindly neighbour. His biggest property development yet, an arcade on Percy Street, was still incomplete. It was finished after his death and named the ‘Handyside Arcade’.

Contemporaries

But Handyside was by no means the only herbalist operating in Newcastle during the 19th Century. Ward’s Directory of 1857-58, for example, lists six including a J Thomas (hopefully not wholly appropriately) ‘agent to Dr Coffin’ and James Wood, (‘dealer in British and Importer of Foreign Herbs, Barks, Roots etc‘).

HerbaladWood

In 1865, there were still six including James Wood still and now also Austin’s of Low Bridge, who promoted his ‘celebrated camomile, stomachic and aperient pills…’ .

HerbaladAustin

Twentieth Century

By 1900, Newcastle had expanded considerably and there were two herbalists on Shields Road: German, John James Reinecke, at 113 and Miss E Halsey at 42 Shields Road West. It is now that George Kingdon is first recorded in Newcastle. He ran Newcastle Herbal Medicine Stores at 110 New Bridge Street.

In Court

On 14 May 1901 George Kingdon appeared before Newcastle Police Court on a charge of keeping a refreshment house without a licence. Under the Refreshment House Act of 1860, refreshment houses were  defined as ‘all houses, rooms, shops or buildings kept open for public refreshment, resort and entertainment between 10pm and 5am not being licensed for the sale of beer, cider, wine or spirits’. The act required the keeper of a refreshment house that was open at any time between 10pm and 5am to apply for a licence. The Act was a way of monitoring establishments kept open at night for the sale of food or drink and ensuring that they weren’t operating as public houses, off licences, brothels etc.

In court, Police Sergeant Bestwick reported that he had entered Mr Kingdon’s premises in New Bridge Street at 12.10am on 3 March and bought a bottle of ‘botanic beer’ for which he paid a penny. Kingdon’s lawyer, Mr Parsons, drew the court’s attention to notices in the window of the shop which stated that tonics were sold, including one that read ‘Sarsaparilla, the great blood purifier’. When the prosecution asked Sergeant Bestwick whether the drink had a medicinal act, he replied that he’d only drunk half a bottle. The defence said ‘That wasn’t enough’.

When asked why the establishment was open at that hour, Mr Parsons said that it was not a refreshment house as covered by the act and that his client practised as a medical herbalist, selling spectacles etc, ‘everything that a chemist would sell except the scheduled poisons’. Furthermore he said that Mr Lucock, the Police-court Missionary, called regularly for a drink, believing that it did him good to which the Clerk of Court retorted ‘One needs a pick-me-up after leaving here!’

The role of the Court Missionary is interesting. It originated in London, funded by the Church of England, and was intended to steer criminals away from drink. Within a few years,  the idea had been adopted by more towns and cities and is acknowledged as the fore-runner of the probation service. Mention of the court missionary in this case appears to confirm the connections known to exist between herbalists and the temperance movement.

Despite the defence’s case, the bench’s decision was that the house was a place of refreshment under the Act and Kingdon was fined ten shillings plus costs.

George Kingdom

George Kingdon was born in Cardiff in c1866 but his early life remains  a mystery. What we do know is that by 1900 he’d moved to Newcastle and by the following year, he was described in the census as a ‘herbalist shopkeeper’ living with his wife Florence, who originated in Islington, London, at 32 Shields Road West, with a boarder called James Fielding Mattinson, aged 78, from Leeds, who was described as a ‘herbalist’s assistant’. Kingdon’s shop was downstairs at number 34. He no longer seemed to run a shop in New Bridge Street.

By 1911, George and Florence had a six year old daughter, Charlotte, and were living at 12 Stannington Avenue, Heaton, along with a domestic servant. George was still described as a ‘herbalist shopkeeper’ and he was still running the Shields Road West shop. From 1914 the couple lived at 2 Warwick Street.

We also know that George was a freemason, first at Lord Collingwood Lodge in Byker (He is mentioned in the ‘Newcastle Journal’ of 2 November 1914 as having donated £18 on behalf of the lodge to support Belgian refugees.) and then at Heaton Lodge. He died on 5 March 1923, leaving £8,183 8s 10d in his will. Florence outlived him. For a short time the Shields Road West shop continued with J W Young the proprietor but after World War 2 it became Oxteby’s Corn Stores and by the late 1960s a pet shop. It’s long since been demolished.

More Heaton Herbalists

By 1902, there was a herbalist practising in Heaton itself, Alfred Thomas Raper at 34 North View. Alfred was a former cartman from Yorkshire, who lived in Heaton with his wife, Sarah, and their six children before moving his business to County Durham. There was also a new herbalist in New Bridge Street, Alfred Salmon Barnfather’s at number 59.

Ten years later Bartholomew Westgarth, a local man who had previously kept a butcher’s shop at 65 Seventh Avenue and at 53 Chillingham Road and before that was a waterman,  was running a herbal medicine business from his home at 40 Rothbury Terrace. (Incidentally, Bartholomew was married to Elizabeth nee Hepple and on census night 1911, her nephew, John Wilson Hepple, a prominent local artist was staying with them.)

Also at this time Fred William Bernard was operating from 57 Heaton Road, a property well-known to older Heatonians as the ice-cream parlour.

Fred Bernard

Luckily for us in the early 1930s, F W Bernard published a book ‘The Rational and Natural Treatment of Disease by Medical Herbalism’, in which he promotes his products and gives a little information about himself. There is even a photo.

HerbalistBernard

Fred William Bernard

 

Fred was born in Bradford in c1882 and by 1911 was married with a seven year old daughter, Doris, and living in Heaton.

In his book, he says that he has been ‘connected with the herbal trade since a boy’ . He relates how some 15 years earlier, he had acquired the well established and previously mentioned New Bridge Street firm of J M Barnfather. He doesn’t mention possessing any specific qualifications or accreditation but asserts that ‘the various herbs, roots and barks stocked by me are gathered by trained botanists at the correct season and are dried and packed and are strictly hygienic conditions‘ and he quotes Taylor’s Chemists, Boots Cash Chemists, Principle Co-operative Stores and others as stockists of ‘Bernard’s Herbal Medicines’. He cites references from as far away as Inverness-shire and New Zealand.

HerbalBernard2

Fred died on 28 June 1941 leaving just over £11,000 in his will, with probate awarded to Second Lieutenant Leon Bernard and Frederick Bernard, herbalist. His knowledge lived on.

Sarsaparilla

Like George Kingdon thirty years earlier, Fred sold sarsaparilla (the roots of ‘smilax officianalis’, a perennial, trailing vine, native to Mexico and Central America.) as a ‘blood purifier’. His ‘finest Jamaica sarsaparilla’ cost 1s 6d per packer and was recommended for children and adults ‘for at least eight weeks every spring time’.

Herbalsarsrecipe

Thank you to G Baldwin & Co, still going strong on Walworth Road, London for permission to use this image

 

Sarsaparilla,  celebrated in the lyric in ‘Calamity Jane’: ‘Introducing Henry Miller, Just as busy as a fizzy sasparilla’  is still used as an ingredient in both herbal medicine and soft drinks. The sarsaparilla drinks you can buy today are mainly flavoured artificially but some, like those of Baldwin & Co, use a small amount of root extract.

With the advent of the National Health Service, the popularity of herbal medicine declined but it never fell out of favour completely and in Britain, and indeed Newcastle, was boosted by increased immigration from China and by a gradual realisation that conventional medicine didn’t have all the answers. And now increasingly universities, including Newcastle, and pharmaceutical companies are employing cutting edge scientific techniques to work out how to extract valuable plant compounds for use in mainstream medicine.

And you only need to call into Boots on Chillingham Road or any of our chemists and supermarkets to see how popular herbal remedies still are. Heaton’s George Kingdon, Fred Bernard and co might not have had formal medical qualifications but they knew a winner when they saw one.

Can you help?

If you have information, anecdotes or photographs of anybody mentioned in this article or herbalism in Heaton that you are willing to share, please either write direct to this page by clicking on the link immediately below the article title, or email chris.jackson@heatonhistorygroup.org

Sources

‘Fringe Medicine’ by Brian Inglis; Faber and Faber, 1964

‘George Handyside: Newcastle entrepreneur and quack vendor’ by David Robertson and Alan Blakeman; BBR Publishing, 2007

‘The Rational and Natural Treatment of Disease by Medical Herbalism’ by F W Bernard; 1932.

plus online sources.

Acknowledgements

Researched and written by Chris Jackson, Heaton History Group as part of our Historic England funded ‘Shakespeare Streets’ project.

 

 

 

 

Parish Church of St Gabriel Part 1: wood, iron & stone

A study of the 1895 Ordnance Survey map of Heaton reveals a building described as St Gabriel’s Church but it is not where you would expect it to be on Heaton Road. It is to the east of Chillingham Road on the north side of Rothbury Terrace. To the south is a cricket ground and the football ground where Newcastle East End, forerunners of Newcastle United, had played until three years earlier and to the north west just 121 years ago, you would have still seen Heaton Town Farm.

Map18995StGabrieletc2

Detail of 1895 Ordnance Survey Map of Heaton

Iron Church

There is a record that states that in 1890 ‘the wooden building was replaced with a structure of corrugated iron lined with wood, costing £500, with seats for 500’. It is not known whether the earlier wooden building was also a church. The building was known as St Gabriel’s Iron Mission Chapel and was a daughter church of St Michael’s, Byker.

Lord Armstrong’s gift

It was also in 1890 that Lord Armstrong gave a new site for a permanent church to be built on the west side of Heaton Road near to its northern end and opposite a row of large villas between Simonside and Cartington Terraces. The architect appointed was Mr Frank W Rich and the Archdeacon of Northumberland recommended  Mr Rich to prepare plans for a permanent church to be built in the Gothic design with a tower, a nave and one aisle, to hold 500 but capable of being enlarged to hold 600. Plans were submitted to Lord Armstrong for his approval.  

1891 saw proposals being put forward for a new conventional district in the Diocese of Newcastle to be formed. At this time the population of the Mother Parish Church of St Michael’s, Byker was 18,500. The new Parish of St Gabriel, Heaton would take over 7,000.

Towards the end of 1892, the Archdeacon of Northumberland wrote to the Vicar of Byker:

‘The rapid increase of the population of Heaton makes it the imperative duty of us all to provide a new parish church in that part of the City and Diocese in the manner in which the law provides’.  

The site of the new church on Heaton Road was found in 1896 to be too narrow to accommodate a large church built on a cruciform shape. Lord Armstrong generously gave another site directly north of the original site. On 1 December Bishop Edgar agreed that the architect Mr F W Rich should build a new stone church on the new site. The building contractor appointed was Mr Walter Baston, a member of St Gabriel’s congregation.

On 18 June 1898 the ‘East End Graphic’ published:

‘For some time the Anglicans in Newcastle have been anxious to see the growing district of Heaton supplied with some more substantial places of worship than the little iron structure in Rothbury Terrace, which has done duty for some years under the Charge of Reverend T H Atkinson. A site on Heaton Road in a field which commands a picturesque view of Jesmond Vale was given some time ago by Lord Armstrong, who also gave £800 to the Building Fund. Alderman Gibson donated £1,000.

A good deal of hard work on the part of the Bishop of Newcastle, Dr Jacob, the curate in charge of the Iron Church and others has brought the total subscription up to £3,110 and the task of building a new St Gabriel’s has begun.

Plans were drawn up by the architect Mr F W Rich estimated to cost £10,000 to seat 1,000.’  

You’ll notice from the architect’s drawings below that Rich’s plans evolved. For example, the spires originally planned for the top of the tower were never built. And the south transept wasn’t built at first.

St Gabrielarchitectdrawing

 

StGabrielsnorthno2

Early architect’s drawings of St Gabriel’s Church

The foundation stone was laid by Mrs. Watson-Armstrong on 15 June 1898. Under the foundation stone was placed a description of the building, plans, local newspaper and coins. (The location of the foundation stone is unknown.) 

The Consecration of St. Gabriel’s Church by Bishop Jacob took place on Friday 29 September 1899. A licence for marriages was obtained in October and on 27 December 1899 Queen Victoria sanctioned the formation of the new Parish.  

There was no chancel, sanctuary or trancepts in the newly consecrated church. An altar was created just behind the present chancel steps and vestries were built where now stand the Lady Chapel and South Transept.

The fees (presumably from weddings and funerals) were reserved for by the Vicar of Byker.

Accounts

The church building account was published in March 1900 and read:

1. Mr Walter Baston, Builder £3499.00.00

2. Mr F W Rich, Architect £307.18.00

3. Clerk of Works £104.04.00

4. Messrs Kirk Dickenson, Slates £224.10.00

5. Mr Robert Heron, Plumber £204.06.00

6. Messrs W Ferguson & Sons, Plasterer £200.06.00

7. Mr John Grundy, Heating Installer £105.00.00

8. Messrs Milburn and Sons ,Chairs £81.14.00

9. Gateshead Stained Glass £44.10.00

10. Messrs Robertson & Sons Painters £26.18.00

11. Messrs John Taylor & Co, Bell £8.16.00

12. Church Society Depot Lectern, Pulpit, Bibles & Prayer Books £4.13.00

13. Newcastle Co-operative Cabinet Makers Vestry Table, Forms £4.06.00

14. Messrs Henry Walker & Sons, Umbrella Stand £1.19.00

15. Mr F Beavan, Donation £19.19.00

Total £4837.08.00

(Those of you that can still remember pounds, shillings and pence may like to check the addition. It should be £4,837.19.00 or £4,837.95 in ‘new‘ money.)

More to Follow

This article was written by Heaton History Group member, Robin Long, who will continue with his history of St Gabriel’s in future pieces.

Acknowledgements

Information taken from Chronological History of the Parish Church of St Gabriel, Heaton, Newcastle upon Tyne. Researched by Mrs Joan Brusey (1890 – 1992) and Denis Wardle (1992-1999). Typed by Mrs Jennifer Dobson and Miss Valerie Smith. Bound by Mr John Dobson

Can you add to the story?

If you have photos or memories of St Gabriel’s that you would like to share or can provide further information about anything mentioned in this piece, please contact us, either by clicking on the link immediately below the title of this article or by emailing chris.jackson@heatonhistorygroup.org

 

An exile remembers: Part 4 – Armstrong Park 2015

Heaton History Group is often contacted by people who used to live in the neighbourhood and have vivid and usually fond recollections. We love to hear their memories. ‘RS’ still returns to Heaton from time to time. Here is the fourth instalments of his thoughts.

‘For the first time in several decades, it’s time to cross Heaton Road and enter Armstrong Park. I can already observe one obvious change across the road, but l’ll talk about that once on the other side.

Crossing Heaton Road, from this western end of Rothbury Terrace, is not what it used to be. Now there are two pedestrian crossings to assist in that process, positioned surprisingly close together; a lad just took his chances back in the ’60s. Choosing the nearer one I walk over, mildly disappointed to note the lack of Hillman Imps, Morris Minors or Ford Anglias among the cars that pull up for me at the lights. Strange, that.

The difference that was observed from across the road is this: no longer are the entrances to Armstrong Park protected by large iron gates, which previously functioned to supervise its opening and closing times. Now there is a situation of apparently open access, from which it seems reasonable to infer that the park is available to all-comers on a 24/7 basis, as the modern saying would have it. And that’s progress, I suppose.

Will the bowling green and its associated pavilion still be there, to my right? Reassuringly, I soon see that they are, but there is a change in evidence. In the opposite to what has happened to the park entrance itself, where hindrance has been removed, access has been restricted to the bowling green in the sense that its southern side, along which I am walking, is now protected by a tallish, brown, wooden, stockade-style fence. A protection from intruders with vandalism on their minds, perhaps – and maybe linked to the fact that people can now seemingly wander around the park at anytime of the day or night.

Armstrong Park

Early 20th century postcard of Armstrong Park

 

So a little further on and down, to the six tennis courts, bisected by a narrow path; the courts on which one could play for sixpence an hour or, if you prefer, two and half pence in new money. I occasionally played (inexpertly) here myself, but seem to recall that the courts were not particularly busy other than during Wimbledon fortnight, and a bit beyond. Six courts may still be there but, once again, something has changed. The first three remain as they were, but the courts to their right are now configured for basketball, rather than tennis.

On to the large grassy area, just past the courts, and with more changes to observe. On the front part and to my right there used to be a playground area of swings, see-saws, roundabouts and the like, all standing on tarmac – or was it concrete? – but now all gone. Has this area been transformed only recently? I wonder, because the now entirely grassy location where the playground once was still retains the impressions and outlines of what used to be here, which seems a bit bizarre given that it all originally stood on hardstanding. (I rather wish I’d saved my ‘Turin Shroud’ metaphor for this experience, rather than have used it up in part 2 – but you get the drift.) No more can younger children enjoy themselves on the playground that once existed here. On the other hand, the area is more open for games of football, cricket, frisbee throwing etc. So, it’s all swings and roundabouts, I suppose.

(Or, er, rather it isn’t. Anymore.) Cough.

But I can no longer ignore or deny the existence of the timeless, defining feature of Armstrong Park, now looming up in front of me. Yes, gates, fences, tennis courts and playgrounds may come and go, but the old windmill remains and endures. There it still is, the sturdy, silent sentinel of Armstrong Park, mighty but mute, necessarily revealing nothing of the numerous stories that the stony, stoic stare of its ever-watchful windows must have witnessed over so many generations past.

A disused Windmill, Armstrong Park, Heaton.

The disused Windmill, Armstrong Park today

Today it is dignified with a path around its circumference, although the quid pro quo for that improvement is the loss of dignity unavoidably incurred by the cutting of a door-sized hole in its side, necessarily obliging it to relinquish some of its cylindrical secrets – although, if the truth be told, there is precious little of interest to see in there. More helpfully, there is now a notice-board to the front and other side of it, giving much interesting and useful historical information. Fifty years ago none of these features were present. Although I have vague memories of being told it was indeed an old windmill, it was just – well, it was just … there, sprouting out of the grass with no realistic way of seeing inside and with no information provided about it at all.

A short walk away is, of course, Heaton Park itself. In truth, I spent more of my childhood there than in Armstrong Park, so it will be particularly interesting to visit it again, after all this time.

We’ll soon take that brief walk together …’

The Night Bombs Rained on Heaton

On Friday 25 – Saturday 26 April 1941, Newcastle endured one of its worst nights of the Second World War, with terrible consequences in Heaton. The area had suffered bomb damage before and would again, as the Germans targeted railways, factories and shipyards – but this was a night like no other.

Earlier in the evening, incendiary bombs had fallen around the Heaton Secondary Schools in High Heaton and damaged properties on Stephenson Road, Horsley Road and Weldon Crescent. Two had fallen onto the eaves of the Corner House Hotel, where civilians scaled a drainpipe and threw them to the ground to be extinguished with sand.

The Lyric Cinema (now the People’s Theatre) was also hit. And on Jesmond Park East, two houses ‘Denehurst‘ and ‘Wyncote’ (which was occupied by the military at the time) suffered fire and water damage. There was other minor damage right across the east of Newcastle. But none of these episodes, as terrifying as they were to those in the vicinity, prepared the people of Heaton for what came next.

Devastation

At 10.20pm a high explosive device seriously damaged numbers 20 and 22 Cheltenham Terrace. Two people were seriously injured at number 20 and were taken to First Aid post Number 6. Another ten people were treated at the scene. Simultaneously, incendiary bombs  hit the nearby Heaton Electric cinema.

Ten minutes later, another high explosive completely demolished numbers 4 and 6 Cheltenham Terrace. Two bodies were recovered before rescuers had to give up for the night due to the threat of the gable end collapsing. There was considered to be no chance of any survivors.

And at the same time, a parachute mine fell on the adjoining Guildford Place, demolishing several houses and causing severe damage to many more. Although water was immediately sprayed over the area, a fractured gas main caught fire.

 

Bomb damage on Guildford Place

Bomb damage on Guildford Place

And still the raid continued. A high explosive device made a huge crater at the junction of Algernon and Shields Roads, with three men injured when another gas main exploded. And nearby a gents’ lavatory at the junction of Shields Road and Union Road was completely destroyed. Yet another bomb fell on the main walk of Heaton Park but here only greenhouse windows were broken.

This  detail from a German map of Tyneside, dating from 1941, illustrates how vulnerable Heaton and, in particular Guildford Place and Cheltenham Terrace were, squeezed as they were between key Nazi targets, marked in red, purple and black.

German map of Heaton, 1941

German map of Heaton, 1941

You can see the full map on the Library of Congress website.

Heaton History Group member, Ian Clough, remembers that his father, who even then kept the sweetshop that still bears the family name, was one of the many overstretched emergency workers and volunteers on duty. He was a volunteer fireman and had to pass his own bomb-damaged shop to help others.

When we asked Ian if he could find out more about that awful night, he interviewed three survivors of the Guildford Place / Cheltenham Terrace tragedy. Here are their accounts:

Muriel’s story

‘I was at home with my parents Arthur and Elizabeth and Uncle George Shaw, Dad’s younger brother, at number 14 Cheltenham Terrace, together with two friends. We were having supper when the air raid siren sounded at approximately 9pm.

Muriel Shaw

Muriel Shaw

For some strange reason this was usually a cue for my mother to see that everything was tidy and that the dishes were washed. Father declared ‘That’s close’ and, after donning his black greatcoat, went upstairs to see if he could get sight of anything from the landing window. There was a whoosh sound initially, then a silence accompanied by a tangible pressure and then the force struck home – literally; father was propelled down the stairs without a button remaining on his coat.

The back of our house had been completely blown off. This was in the direction of the explosion so it was mainly through a vacuum effect. Father had erected stout doors to cover our dining room windows to comply with the blackout regulations and they may have offered protection from any flying debris from outside. I first realised that I was a victim in all that was happening when a wavering door in its frame threatened to fall on me but just missed. It gave way to a shower of bricks falling from upstairs which left lasting scars on my legs. Mother and I were showered with plaster dust and it seemed to take many weeks of hair washes to finally remove all of its traces. Strange things had happened; a teapot that was on the table was now on the mantelshelf in one piece. The piano was no longer an upright one as it had somersaulted over the settee and was now upside down and resting on a completely unharmed china cabinet with contents intact.

Dad’s other brothers also lived with us but were out at the time. Thomas was an air raid warden and William was a lay preacher and had been sick visiting. It wasn’t until the next day that we were told that both of them had been killed. At 4 Cheltenham Terrace, the Robson family of four had perished.

Guildford Place, the one-sided street that was back to back with us and overlooked the railway had taken a direct hit. Most of the occupants of numbers 8 through to 15 were killed. The Luftwaffe was targeting the marshalling yards at Heaton Junction but released their payload prematurely while following the line of the railway.

Our house was now uninhabitable but because the resources of the Council were overstretched we had to find temporary accommodation in Osborne Road, Jesmond. This happened immediately and so, what with that and working, I had little chance to witness the horrors that the authorities had to endure in recovering and identifying bodies and demolishing what was left of the houses.

After a year we moved back into our house (which by now was renumbered as 18). A gas pipe had burst in the blast and we were greeted by a bill for all that had leaked. Initially there was still scaffolding inside the house and as compensation was so inadequate we had to clear the mess and clean everything out ourselves. When we asked for wallpaper, which was in short supply, we were given enough to cover one wall. Our property now had become the gable end of one row of surviving terrace houses as the line of neighbouring homes on either side of us were deemed irreparable and pulled down.

On the night of the air raid my brother, Albert ,was away serving in the Army and brother Arthur was on fire watch for his firm on the Quayside. The devastation and annihilation of his neighbours prompted Arthur to join the R.A.F. and become a pilot but that, as they say, is another story.’

Ian discovered that the two friends who were having supper with Muriel and her family were Nell and her mother.

Nell’s story

Mother and I were sitting at the table after being invited to supper by Muriel and her family when suddenly we found ourselves in this nightmare situation. Both of us were being propelled backwards by the blast of an enormous explosion and then the ceiling came down on top of us. There was nothing we could do but lie there until the wardens came and dug us out. It is funny how strange things stick in your mind but as we were assisted out of the house via the hallway a musical jug was happily giving us a rendition of ‘On Ilkley Moor Ba Tat’.

Nell and her mother

Nell and her mother

Skirting around all of the amassed rubble that was once people’s homes we were taken to an air raid shelter in the cellar of Charlie Young, the butcher, on Heaton Road. When the ‘all clear’ was sounded, we discovered, through her covering of ceiling plaster, that mother’s face was covered in blood. Firstly she was taken to a first aid post at Chillingham Road baths and put on a stretcher. Then we both got into an ambulance and were turned back from many a hospital until mother was eventually admitted to the Eye Infirmary.

We asked a local policeman if he would get a message to my Uncle Jack who was also in the police and lived in the west end. Uncle took me in and the following day I realised that our handbags and other belongings had been left behind at Cheltenham Terrace. Walking along Heaton Road to see if I could retrieve them, I cannot recall how many people approached me with the same words; ‘I thought you were dead!’ Mother had lost the use of her left eye and had to wear a patch for the rest of her life and we had suffered a most traumatic experience. Yet we were the fortunate ones as for 45 members of those neighbouring families that night was to be their last.

Footnote 1 I believe that what Mr Shaw, Muriel and Arthur’s father, saw from his vantage point was something that at first looked like a large balloon which, on reflection, was a land mine on a parachute, floating down.

Footnote 2 I went to Heaton High School in the 1930s and one of my subjects was German so we were invited to meet and socialise with a group of German schoolchildren who were on a school visit hosted by Newcastle Council. They were given a list of Newcastle’s favourite tourist attractions and maps of Newcastle and the transport system to help them to get about. Many of us took up the offer of being pen pals and one girl even went on a visit to the home of one of the students and came back full of what she had been told of how Adolf Hitler was going to be such a wonderful leader of the German nation. When my pen pal remarked that he had heard that Newcastle had a large and important railway station and asked to be sent details, my dad told me not to write to him anymore. It was not long after that that we were at war with Germany. We then wondered if there had been something sinister behind the visit and were the children and their school teachers, innocently or otherwise, sent over on more than just a cultural mission.

Arthur’s story

I was on fire watch for my firm of importers at No14 Wharf on the Quayside when the air raid sirens started wailing and we were on full alert. I heard the noise of bombs exploding, repeatedly exploding, and I thought to myself ‘Somebody’s got it.’ I had a rough idea of the direction of the hits but nothing prepared me for the spectacle of devastation I was to see.

It was 9am, and daylight, as I approached Guildford Place; the one-sided terraced street overlooking the railway. Little was left of the houses nearest to Heaton Road and my heart raced as I hurried up to the corner of my own street Cheltenham Terrace. The first thing that greeted me was a ribbon strung across the road at the entrance to my street with a policeman on duty to prevent any looting. He stopped me going any further and I explained that I lived here. Well, I had lived here!

I was in a state of shock – astounded at what was all around me. I’m still vague as to how I found my family but they certainly weren’t there anymore. Muriel worked as secretary to the manager of Bitulac Ltd and he offered us temporary accommodation in his home on Osborne Road. Dad found us a house to rent on Chillingham Road and he borrowed a van to collect some of what was left of our furniture. When loaded up I got in the cab and father said ‘Have you locked the front door, son?’ He had to smile when I said ‘What’s the use of that, man? We’ve got no wall on the back of our house!’ We lived in Chillingham Road until our house was repaired.

Muriel and I were young and felt that we had to fulfil our duty to the nation. Muriel trained as a nurse and, at one time, she worked in a hospital where wounded soldiers were coming back from France. I had made my mind up that I wanted to be a pilot and joined the RAF.

Arthur Shaw

Arthur Shaw

The initial training procedure would astound anyone now. We were introduced to a de Havilland Tiger Moth and, within eight hours, were flying solo. The instructor would watch us from the ground – take off, fly around and then land. If you couldn’t do it you were no longer a pilot.

Then it was off to Canada to gain our proficiency. Why Canada? Well, most of the British airfields were being used for war operations and could not be spared for pilot training. We were taught navigation and how to read approaching weather conditions and understand the various cloud formations. We would normally then fly twin engine planes – Airspeed Oxfords in particular. One of the most difficult things to master was flying in formation and then banking to left or right. The outer pilots had to increase their speed slightly just to keep in line. It was important to be taught ground recognition and the open spaces of Canada did not challenge us enough and we had to come back home over towns and cities to gain experience in that skill.

I served abroad for a while and was then privileged to be asked to train as a flying instructor and was sent just over the Northumbrian border into Scotland for that. It was then my job to pass on my knowledge to the new recruits – young lads who were then sent out on dangerous missions where the mortality rate was so high.

When the war was over we queued up for our civvies (civilian clothes) it was almost a case of one size fits all and it did feel strange to be out of uniform. But we had done our bit and were thankful that we were the lucky ones – lucky to still be alive.

(You can read about Arthur’s later contribution to Heaton’s history here )

Roll of Honour

Bodies were still being recovered five days later. The final death toll was reported to be 46 with several bodies still unidentified. Those which remained unidentified were buried in a common grave in Heaton Cemetery.

As you can see from the following list, the ages of the known victims ranged from 9 weeks to 77 years and in several houses whole families died together.

William Aiken aged 43

Ethel Mary Airey, aged 23

Amy Angus 17

Edna Jane Angus 28

Hannah Angus 49

Ian Angus 13

Maureen Angus 15

Robert Nixon Angus 29

Mary Elizabeth Glass Balmer 17

William Blenkinsop 38

John McKnight Erskine 20

James Falcus 45

Albert George Fuller 37

Gordon W T Gardner 25

Elizabeth Glass 53

Edith Rosina Hagon 8

Joan Thompson Hagon 30

Joyce Hagon 16

Raymond Hagon 7

Isabella Harrison 77

William Henry Hoggett 39

Mary Jane Moffit 62

Archibold Taylor Munro 29

Ethel Mary Park 60

Francis Park 58

Mavis Park 31

Alice Jane Reed 64

Joseph Dixon Reed 68

Joseph Lancelot Reed 9 weeks

Eliza Margaret Robson 70

Ella Mildred Robson 43

Evelyn Robson 38

James Kenneth Robson 19

William Robson 72

Thomas Shaw 48

William Atkinson Shaw 40

Robert Smith 27

Edwin Snowdon 17

Henry Snowdon 12

Nora Snowdon 46

Victor Snowdon 48

Charles Thomas Thompson 62

David Harkus Venus 27

Alexander Henry White 54

Blanche White 43

Thank you

Roy Ripley and Brian Pears, whose website is an amazing resource for anyone researching the WW2 home front in the north east;

Heaton History Group member, Julia McLaren, who drew our attention to the German map of Tyneside.

Can you help?

if you know more about the night of 25-26 April 1941 or have memories, family stories or photographs of Heaton during WW2 to share, we’d love to hear from you. Either write directly to this website, by clicking on the link immediately below the title of this article or email the secretary of Heaton History Group,  chris.Jackson@heatonhistorygroup.org

 

An exile remembers: Part 3 – changes

Heaton History Group is often contacted by people who used to live in the neighbourhood and have vivid and usually fond recollections. We love to hear their memories. ‘RS’ still returns to Heaton from time to time. Here is the third instalments of his thoughts.

‘And so I cross the road to the south side of Rothbury Terrace, and continue my westward walk to the parks, now becoming steadily more visible ahead. As I do so, I absent-mindedly reflect on two obvious changes in the demography of this area which, for the sake of convenience, will be referred to as central Heaton. Neither of the changes are regarded here as being necessarily good or bad in themselves, but noticeable and interesting changes they most definitely are.

The first is the clear establishment of so much student accommodation in central Heaton, including my own 1960s home on Simonside Terrace (see part 1). I recall none of this at all half a century ago, although I suppose there must have been some, somewhere in this area, even then; however, there was certainly nothing on the scale that there is now. I suspect that the rising student population has been a steadily growing phenomenon over the last few decades, rather than being the result of any single event or cause.

But I do know something more definite about the other demographic change that cannot be missed around here. In the early 1960s central Heaton was an overwhelmingly white area, and although the statistic in question was most unlikely to have been 100%, equally probably it was not far off that figure. Certainly, in my first few years at Ravenswood, I can recall no ethnic minority pupils whatsoever. Until things began to change.

And – in central Heaton, at least – they began to change here, on Rothbury Terrace. I can’t give an exact date, but let’s say around 1963-4. That was when the first Pakistani-Muslim family moved into this street, and the two (possibly three) children began to attend at Ravenswood. There was a boy in the year above me, and another in the year below. (There may have been a younger sister – my memory fails me on that point.)

The oldest boy was called Anjem. He and I soon became good friends. He and his brother were great lads, and thankfully and happily there were no problems of racial tension at Ravenswood – or, as far as I recall, anywhere else in Heaton – of the sort that were being experienced and reported in other parts of the country at that time.

As the ’60s progressed and were superseded by the ’70s, an interesting phenomenon could increasingly be observed. The Pakistani-Muslim population of central Heaton began steadily to grow; and the residential focus of this expansion was located here, on this stretch of Rothbury Terrace, between Chillingham Road and Heaton Road. Perhaps initially related to Anjem’s family, but then probably with the establishment of further familial linkages, the population of this particular ethnic minority began to grow, very noticeably decade by decade – albeit fairly gradually on a year to year basis – in this very precise area of central Heaton, before then spreading further afield.

But as I approach Heaton Road, on this particular day, there is hardly anyone, of any ethnicity, to be seen; and anyway, there’s no reason to think that the particular demographic change that began to occur here all those years ago would still be in evidence now. After all, people move on and move away: indeed, just like I did.

So, finally reaching the junction of Rothbury Terrace and Heaton Road, I look along to my left. Too far to be seen from here, I nevertheless recall Heaton Presbyterian Church (just past the Co-op) where I was a member of the Lifeboys and – when older – the Boys’ Brigade. I remember too, our regular, traffic-stopping Sunday morning parades when, dressed in our navy blue uniforms, and with drums a-beating and bugles a-blowing, we ensured that quiet Sunday morning lie-ins for the late-slumbering residents of the streets on our route became something of a practical impossibility. It’s difficult to imagine that such events still occur today; indeed, on reflection, it’s a bit of a wonder that they were actually allowed even then. And do those local Lifeboys and Boys’ Brigade units still even exist? Maybe not as – the last time I drove past – there certainly wasn’t much left standing of the Presbyterian church itself. Possibly demolished by a team of sleepy, hungover and rather fed up Geordies, still in their pyjamas.

Then I turn to my right and gaze in the direction of St. Gabriel’s. This, in fact, was our family church, and where I was confirm … but crikey! What’s that? Across the road, on the other side of Rothbury Terrace. Used to be a doctors’ surgery, back in the day. Clearly it’s something else now; an entirely new building is standing there. It’s the ‘Heaton Mosque and Islamic Centre’. A bit of a surprise. An outpost of Islam … here in Heaton.

Of course, if you are a resident of any part of Heaton, but especially of this central area, you probably knew about the existence of this building already; however, you may not have known how or why it came to be located here, of all places, on this corner of Heaton Road and Rothbury Terrace. Perhaps my ramblings have afforded a little insight in that regard. It’s here because when Islam first came to Heaton, all those years ago, it first came to Rothbury Terrace, in the form of Anjem and his family, and all those who came after them. And from that small seed it clearly took root, and flourished.

But across the road, Armstrong Park now beckons. So it’s time to see what changes may lie in wait for me there …’

What do you remember?

We’d love to hear your memories and see photos of anyone who has lived, studied, worked or played in Heaton. Either leave your comments below the heading of this article or email Chris Jackson, Secretary, Heaton History Group.