Berwick Time Lines

Jim Herbert discovers and shares the rich history of Berwick-upon-Tweed and area. Go to www.berwicktimelines.com to find out more about tours and other services.

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Park Life (part 3) - Flagging up the Coronation

Park Life (part 3) – Flagging up the Coronation

A recent thread on the Facebook page Forgotten Berwick was talking about Coronation Park.  Many people will think of the small park above Tommy the Miller’s field covered in a previous post.  But there were two other Coronation Parks in Berwick.

I say in Berwick:  one was in Tweedmouth at the south end of the Royal Tweed Bridge (New Bridge).  This was part of the same program of planting works to…

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Dispensing History

The origin of Berwick Infirmary is to be found in a petition to the Mayor of Berwick which was published in the British Gazette and Berwick Advertiser of December 11th 1813, signed by 22 gentlemen of the town:

“We the undersigned being deeply impressed with gratitude to Almighty God for the signal downfall of the great enemy to humanity and thinking that the most proper way to evince that gratitude is by doing good to our fellow creatures do request you would as early as possible have the goodness to call a general meeting of the inhabitants of this Town and the vicinity to consider of the propriety of commencing a subscription for the support of a Public Dispensary for distributing medicines and medical advice gratuitously to the industrious poor of this town and vicinity.”

A committee was established later that month and met at the Kings Arms Hotel in Hide Hill. The Chairman was Mr R. Romer, as Chairman and Mr T R Batson of the Tweed Bank as Treasurer. The first duty of the Secretary, Dr. R. Stevenson, was to write a begging letter to the Duke of Northumberland informing him he had been nominated as patron of the new charity. He accepted the position and sent a cheque for £20. Similar letters were sent to 48 other men of status including Earl Grey of Howick (and tea and Newcastle monument fame).

By January 11th a house belonging to Mr Chartres and occupied by a Mrs Sands in a yard off Church Street (now occupied by 46A, B and C leading to St Aidan’s Hall) was examined for its suitability for the Dispensary. Mrs Sands was paid £5 compensation to quit the premises and Chartres was given £18 per annum rent. The Dispensary opened in 1814. Originally intended to be for outpatients only yet in 1815 the medical attendants requested that a room be fitted out for operations and for lodgings for patients.

Detail of map (1822) showing the Church Street/Chapel Street junction, with the Dispensary in red.

 The Church Street Dispensary was initiated with the best of intentions but demand must have outstripped what services could be offered. As early as 1819 the committee was requesting the grant of a piece of land from the Board of Ordnance to build a new dispensary, and interest was also expressed in a site in Palace Green in 1822. However, in 1826 the committee purchased the former home of Colonel Hall at 18 Quay Walls (now known as the Customs House) for £800. The committee finances may not have been the best as £300 had to be borrowed from one of the town’s pre-eminent medics, Dr Cahill.

18 Quay Walls.

The Dispensary continued to be largely for consultations only but rooms were provided for those recovering from operations. The Dispenser lived at the premises, as did a nurse (but only when there were inpatients. And still the aspirations rose. In 1834 John Burn left £90 to the dispensary  and the committee commented that they were trying “to make provision for rendering this institution to almost every probably needful extent an Infirmary”. Similar thoughts were expressed in 1854.

An odd sounding but interesting purchase made for the Dispensary was two baths—one marble, one stone—for medical (and non-medical) use. A hot seawater soak in the marble bath could be yours for 2s 6d, while a cold freshwater bath in the stone bath was a mere 1s. A water bowser—a barrel on wheels—was purchased to fetch sea water from Meadow Haven behind the pier, but later it was pumped via a pipe from the river.

Following the Poor Law Act of 1834, Berwick was forced to conform to the new national system and created a Union administered by an elected Board of Guardians who were responsible to the Poor Law Commissioners in London.

The Greenses before the Infirmary was built, 1852.

In 1870 the medical attendants proposed that the dispensary on the Quay Walls be sold and be replaced by a yet another new dispensary and possibly a hospital. The Board of Guardians of the Berwick Poor Law Union wanted a fever hospital at this time and there were some abortive discussions between the two bodies concerning the possibility of a joint venture. The old dispensary was sold in 1872 for £1,000 and a temporary dispensary in Eastern Lane took its place, while a site was secured in the Greenses for £159 12s 6d. According to a map dating to 1847, the land that the Infirmary is built on belonged to one William Smith, no doubt a Freeman. Plans for the venture were prepared by John Starforth of Edinburgh. 

A vision of the new Infirmary by architect John Starforth, 1872.

One point made in favour of having an Infirmary was that "injured patients requiring operation had up until then to go by train to Edinburgh and then by cab to the Infirmary for isolation or infection or operation”. It was further hoped that the new hospital would be available to "persons above the condition of paupers" as well as affording medical and surgical aid to the indigent”. 

Site plan of Berwick Infirmary, 1874.

The estimate for building the new premises was stated to be £3,186 at the public meeting and that after allowing for investments and the price of the old dispensary, approximately £1,200 would still be needed. The meeting itself was a great success and raised £770. Later Mrs Jerningham of Longridge Towers (who had previously married to Captain Mather) donated £2,000 and the Mather Ward was named after her late husband, and £500 was given by Dr Kellock's daughter in memory of her father who had retired in 1841, the last of the original medical attendants. Eventually the other original wards were named Maclagan (after Dr Philip Whiteside Maclagan, who also has the statue of Hygieia dedicated to him), and Weddell (after James C. Weddell who became secretary in 1859 and held the position until he died in 1882).

Dr Alexander Kellock, by John Wilson (courtesy Berwick Museum and Art Gallery).

By the time of the completion of the Infirmary in 1874 the total cost of the site, erection and furnishing had come to £3,320 13s 3d which left £1s 2s 2d in hand over and above the costs. A nest egg of investments was left which continued to provided the Infirmary with an annual income towards its running costs for the future. As an aid to income by rentals and to possible expansion of facilities buildings were erected in Infirmary Square and completed in 1881.

At the AGM of the management board in 1904 it was agreed to sell off an area of land between the Infirmary and Brucegate to a local builder with the agreement he was to build a terrace of houses for young working men. These were completed the following year. 1905 was a busy year. As an experiment, electric lights were installed in the Maclagan Ward and the board room which doubled as the operating theatre! The need for adequate operating and sterilising facilities was raised by the medical attendants at the following year’s AGM. 

Plans for the new operating facilities were drawn up by hospital architects Newcombe and Newcombe of Newcastle. (The previous year another of their projects, the Royal Victoria Infirmary in Newcastle had been opened.) It was to be to the north-east of the original building, joined to the main building by a 10 foot corridor which would act as a waiting room. The expenditure of £500 was approved. The very local firm of Gray and Boyd—their practice operated from 2 Ivy Place—acted as local agents supervising the build which in the end cost £725, and after fitting it out, near £1000. It was opened to much fanfare in 1908 by Mr Leyland of Haggerston Castle. In 1911 it was reported that 98 operations with anaesthetic had been performed.

Interior of Berwick Infirmary operating theatre, 1908.

Site plan of Berwick Infirmary, 1924.

The Tweedmouth Co-operative Society funded the Verandah Ward in 1911 as a memorial of their golden jubilee. This was a timber and glass structure that opened to the open air, designed by Grey and Boyd, and opened in 1912 by Earl Grey, himself a pioneer of the co-operative movement. In addition it provided a roof garden for the nurses on its flat roof. Two years later brand new X-ray equipment was added as a memorial to the late Edward VII. Further extensions were made in 1930 to provide a better kitchen, and bedroom accommodation for staff.

Verandah Ward, 1912.

Berwick Dispensary and Infirmary continued operating as a charitable institution for the next 74 years funded by the generosity of the League of Subscribers. Various events were held including the Spring “Hospital Sunday” collection in churches and an Autumn “Hospital Saturday”. Collection sheets were sent out to local businesses who would encourage donations from employees; an early and local form of National Insurance in a way. Any employee who contributed one guinea (£1 1s) or more were entitled to nominate one of their number to the Board of Governors. Arguably one of the best known fund-raising events each year was a local football competition for the Infirmary Cup (it being renamed the Charities Cup in 1948) and continues to this day. 

Sketch of Berwick Infirmary, 1912.

In 1926, the League reported that the newly completed Jane Richardson Ward was a great boost to the ability of the hospital to provide the growing services provided. Expenditure was now £2000 per annum, a huge increase from the £800 spent 20 years earlier. The efforts and donations made by the League demonstrate, not only the desire, but the need for these medical services. Mr Rowley, Secretary to the League, ironically was not present due to ill health, but in a letter voiced his gratitude and thanks for the fact there was such a local facility.

The Mayor addressed the annual meeting in 1928. He spoke of “the fact that nearly one thousand patients have passed within its ever-open doors in the year just ended’, and, “an ever-increasing demand on the services of this splendid institution, and with its up-to-date equipment it is possible to do work there which was impossible to carry out in previous years”. Mr Hogarth, Vice-Chairman of the League in a plea for increased funding commented, “…the management of the infirmary look upon it as their duty to have a bed provided in the community who meets with an accident or has to go through an operation. If we got people to realise that in Berwick we are not getting that, we should, I’m sure, increase our income.”

The Board of Health Report of 1928 puts some figures to Hogarth’s plea. It informs us the Council’s Ambulance Service answered 337 calls, travelling 5,140 miles. 169 cases of infectious diseases, mainly scarlet fever and tuberculosis, were taken to Berwick Infectious Diseases Hospital at the Greenses (now the site of the Lord’s Mount estate). Ambulances took 121 private patients to Berwick Infirmary, 18 to Edinburgh Infirmary, 1 to Glasgow Infirmary, 7 to Newcastle Infirmary, and 1 to North Shields Hospital. It is interesting to note the present system of money changing hands between Health Trusts is nothing new; the report continues to inform us the total amount recovered during the year from other Local Authorities and private persons for use of Ambulance Services was £1071 4s 4d.

Site plan of Berwick Infirmary, 1940.

The July 1st 1948 edition of the Berwick Advertiser reported the introduction of the new Health Scheme that was to be introduced the following Monday. The running of the Infirmary would be transferred from the Board of Governors to the new Newcastle Regional Health Board. The Chairman of the Governors, Mr College Place Martin thanked everyone for the admirable service they had given, and that he hoped the League of Subscribers might in some way continue their work. They did, and continue to do so, as the League of Friends.

Ironically, it was the death of a mother in the workhouse in 1933 which was the final stimulus for local women to fight for a proper maternity hospital in the town. Castle Hills Maternity Home was officially opened on April 26, 1945, and went on to be the birthplace for thousands of babies from Berwick and the eastern Borders until the last birth of Joanne Hetherington March 7 1986. The service was then transferred to the new unit at the former Nursing School on the site of the workhouse.

Castle Hills House, the former Maternity Hospital serving Berwick and district.

In 1950, foundations were being laid for the new extension when the grisly remains of human leg and foot bones were uncovered. It was supposed they were discarded after an amputation in the earlier days of the Infirmary. The new wing was opened in July 1951 and was heralded as a wonder. “Gone are the days of waiting in gloomy, cold rooms on draughty benches withe the fearsome smell of disinfectant prevailing. The new waiting room is as charming as a ballroom. …on closer inspection it will be found that the floor is made up of hundreds of strips of beautiful wood about an inch thick and nine inches long that have been arranged to give the patterned design.” This new building housed the physiotherapy department and had facilities to treat orthopaedics, speech therapy, general surgery, tuberculosis and ear, nose and throat cases.

In 1958, thoughts turned to the acquisition of the old Berwick Infectious Diseases Hospital (that had been taken over by the army in WWII and used as a hospital and Married Families Hostel) for long-term patients and the elderly sick. Eventually this became a fabric mill.

The need for new facilities was highlighted by the case of the elderly couple who had to be separated from each other, one being sent to North Shields. Having received no reply to their enquiries to the War Department, the Hospital Management Committee and Regional Health Board abandoned the plan in favour of plowing any money into the existing site. The debate continued with the Regional Health Board being accused of prioritising other places. The Mayor, Mr Evans, pointed out that there were then 32 beds—the same number as there had been at the turn of the century—yet in Ashington provisions were being made for 200 beds when 10 years previously there had been only 40. Stannington was preparing for 60 additional beds. Alderman G M Lamb deplored the fact that people were being sent 67 miles from home and that, “the care of the sick was largely a matter of psychology, but the psychology in this case was to the detriment of any aged person”. Alderman Mrs Evans pointed out that 28 beds had been added to Greenhaven, the converted workhouse, yet to the elderly, the stigma of the workhouse was still a vivid memory, and that it was overcrowded by 16.

Site plan of Berwick Infirmary, 1962.

This led, by 1962, to the extension leading from the Richardson Ward corridor to what we know as the outpatients unit and administration area. By 1974, the complex was extended to create the Dewar Ward and a new operating theatre, and by the early ‘80s, a new main entrance leading to a day clinic, and yet more beds in Tweed Ward, above which was Cheviot Ward. Eventually there were in excess of 100 beds. 

Site plan of Berwick Infirmary, 1974.

Site plan of Berwick Infirmary, 1980s.

In the course of its development, Berwick had boasted a medical museum and library and had been a nurses training school. Over the years, the administration and funding of the service, for 73 years, was possible only to the efforts and goodwill of many private individuals. Newspapers record many of the injuries treated and the gratitude of those patients.

Huge advances have been made over the last 30 years, let alone the last 205 when those first pioneers determined Berwick needed proper medical facilities. Yet the people of Berwick have, in the last few years, seen a dramatic decline in the services offered and have in ever-increasing numbers had to travel long distances to larger hospitals; just what the founders of the Infirmary had striven to avert. The Northumbria Healthcare NHS Foundation Trust (NHFT) and others are driven by financial restraints and competition introduced by recent, successive central governments. This led to the NHFT creating the Northumbria Specialist Emergency Care Hospital, opened in 2015, the first in England. Yet a year earlier, the NHFT had recognised the degradation of services in Berwick and a report in 2014 outlined a commitment to retain existing services and introduce a raft of new ones. Plans stalled until in 2018 it was announced a new hospital would be built in combination with a new leisure centre in Tweedmouth on the site of the Swan Centre for Leisure. This, understandably, was met with almost universal outrage and a campaign group, A Better Hospital For Berwick was formed. Such was the pressure mounted on NHFT that they abandoned this initial plan. Consultations are ongoing as to where the new infirmary will be sited.

Looking back at the story of the hospital in Berwick, it seems we have been here before in some ways. Today, 50 years after its creation, many of us take the NHS for granted. We do not think of what had been there before; what our forebears had to endure. Fortunately, the community spirit that created, funded, and brought about all the improvements between 1813 and 1948 is alive and well. The Infirmary may be elderly and infirm, it may not have much mobility, but together we can give the patient a new life.

Much of this has been based upon an excellent article written in 1994 by Dr Alan Binnie, a GP at Norham from 1964 until his retirement in 1989. He died in 2012. You can download the full article as a PDF here; Berwick Dispensary and Infirmary, 1814–1898. In it you can find out much about the people who worked in the Victorian Infirmary, too many too name here. 

Find out more about how you can help the A Better Hospital For Berwick campaign. 

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The Brown Bear

The Brown Bear is one of the most important pubs in Berwick, if only for its name.  The bear and tree are a symbol of Berwick since at least the early 13th century.  Many remember it from the past.  I remember Saturday nights 10 years or so ago when there would be queues outside of eager young things looking for, and finding, a fun night out!  

The Brown Bear is first mentioned in 1806 as being run by Joseph Brown but  earlier Bears prowled the streets of Berwick! In May 1724 and 1725, we find adverts in the Newcastle Courant advertising the annual Lamberton Races instructing entrants to bring their horses to be shown at the house of George Temple at the Sign of the Bear. And between 1724 and 1788 there is a White Bear in Hide Hill. The coincidences continue as George Temple owned the brown Bear site and was instrumental in building Berwick’s first Presbyterian church in 1719—the Low Meeting House—now the ruined structure at the rear of the yard. Was there also a pub on the site? Could the White Bear have been the same as the Brown Bear? We may never know.

The Low Meeting House in 1972.

The site layout has remained unchanged since medieval times. The early pub was little more than a dingy back room of the building fronting Hide Hill, accessed down a narrow passage but it later expanded to take in the shop at the front.

Detail from map of Berwick, 1590 showing the Brown Bear site. Note the opening in the street frontage where the archway leading to the back yard is today.

The Moor family outside The Brown Bear. George Moor ran the pub between 1864 an 1897. The central door led to the pub at the rear. Based on the apparent age of the children, this may have been taken in the 1870s. George and Elizabeth stand in the doorways with “Willie the outdoor porter” . Their youngest sons, Thomas (left) and George (right) stand by their mother. The identity of the elderly gentleman is not known but may be another family member.

The front building was rebuilt in 1898 by local architect Robert Marshall and reopened by Thomas Morrallee in 1901. The new look Bear incorporating all the trappings of the Victorian pub was greeted with mistrust by the locals.

“When the new place was built the critics pronounced it a white elephant. Townspeople had for so long been used with the old order, that they looked with suspicion on the new up-to-date building, the first of the modern licensed houses in the town. Under Mr Morrallee the house soon became a success.”

Berwick Advertiser” 22nd April, 1922

The Brown Bear in the 1910s.

Thomas Morrallee was well suited to the new Brown Bear. He knew the wine and spirit trade by heart and the Brown Bear soon became a success. Despite early reservations from the old clientele, the premises were in an ideal situation to take advantage of the age. His stables and yard offered ample space for parking horses. It was a major centre for farmers to congregate on market days to discuss the news and business. His food was a major draw serving hundreds of meals a day. He was described as a model landlord and did not tolerate drunken behaviour from anyone whatever their status. This meant that some of the less desirable elements of Berwick society quickly learnt to stay clear of “Morrallee’s”. He seems to have been a stickler for punctuality and attention to detail and while described as brusque, he had a sense of humour perhaps bordering on the black.

Thomas Morrallee died in 1922 and the pub was run, less successfully by his son Henry until he retired in 1942. And so what might be called the “golden age” of the Brown Bear came to an end.

There followed a succession of later landlords, most notably Alex Gibson and his wife Margaret, who created the famous “Tartan Lounge”. Alex Gibson is remembered for his charity work within the community. Whilst he was behind the bar, money was raised for the mentally disabled; for the children at the Grove Special School and Northumberland County Council Adult Training Centre in particular. He was also recognised for his fund-raising for the Aberfan disaster in South Wales in 1966. Of all the recollections of Mr Gibson, the most common is the large mirror at the side of the bar which would be steadily filled with coins stuck on by dipping them in beer. He also kept a chamber pot behind the bar into which, people would toss spare change. At his retirement, it was estimated that £33,000 (over £150,000 by today’s standards.In 1978 he was presented the Local Life Award. This was organised by the Brewers Society and administered by the North East Brewers Association in this region. Licensees were nominated by their customers and then assessed on their level of contribution to the local community.

Alex Gibson with the chamber pot and mirror used for charity collections.

Margaret “Peggy” Gibson poses for a photographer in the front bar which faced the front door. The charity collection mirror with coins can be seen in the background.

The 1960s and ‘70s saw many upheavals in society and pubs were not immune. Young people were looking for their own identity. Not for them the “spit and sawdust“ pubs their fathers had frequented. The idea that you might take your wife or girlfriend out to the pub led to improvements in cleanliness and the general presentation of pubs throughout the country. The pub was no longer the preserve of labourers and businessmen. It was now a place of fun for all; a place to meet new people and enjoy the liberation of the last quarter of the century.

These young people demanded greater entertainment. Pool tables and other new distractions such as gambling machines and electronic video games were seen as a useful extra source of income. The old layout of the Brown Bear could not accommodate any of these. And so, the entire building was opened up with a completely new layout to cater for this younger clientele.

The dividing wall between the front room and the Tartan Lounge was ripped out and a  bar laid along much of the length of the north wall. Gone were the traditional stools and tables. In came a more relaxed banquette seating around the walls. This extended into the old Tartan Lounge and the rear room which had been the landlord’s sitting room was added to form an area for the pool table.

In 1995, Kim Riley, Susan and Alan Wakenshaw and family took over the pub. Kim left the business in 2000 and Alan Wakenshaw died in 2005 leaving Susan and her son, Graeme to create the local legend the Brown Bear was to become amongst young people at the weekend. Live music and discos as a “warm up” to the serious clubbing in Golden Square was always a huge pull. So popular was it, that people would regularly be queueing outside waiting to be admitted.

The Brown Bear had always been associated with charitable work but on a personal note, their entries in the Tweedmouth Feast Float Parade were outstanding; consistently the most imaginative and the most fun. Another favourite annual fund raising event was the all day “B in The Bear” music event. A long range of decking was erected in the rear yard and a stage erected for local bands to perform on.

B in the Bear, 2010.

The Wakenshaws retired in 2013. It was a hard act to follow and while others tried, they were not able to and the pub was open intermittently until it closed in 2016.

It reopened in December 2016 by pub campaigner Mark J Dodds. He had a vision of how a pub might be run with the community at the heart of it. I was involved with it from an early stage being asked to look into the history of the pub. Mark had the wholly admirable idea of revitalising the rear space for markets, pop-up shops, artisan crafts and so much more. The Low Meeting house might be rebuilt as a music venue and so much more. And until recently, it appeared to be a thriving venture: regular music nights and pub quizzes.

Crowds in the “new look” Bear.

Sadly, funding sources did not match the dream. There were problems from the start, not least of which was based on an unrealistic comparison to upmarket London pubs, and an inadequate kitchen for serious provision of food and thus greater revenue. The Brown Bear closed on 28th July, 2018. It’s a sad end.

I do hope someone will attempt to save what really could be once more the pub it used to be.

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The Tweed and The Harp

So here’s an interesting story of coincidence.

I was sent an newspaper clipping the other day— a “looking back” article from the Berwickshire News in 1915—about the old pubs of Berwick. The writer tells us much of his information is from “ prominent local historian now deceased”; probably John Scott who wrote the mighty tome, “Berwick-upon-Tweed: The History of the Town and Guild” (1888). Interesting as the article is, can we—should we—believe a seemingly reliable source of information? One of these snippets is that the Globe in Chapel Street became the Harp. It didn’t. Another “dramatic” story in the article is that Grace Griffin, the last person hanged in Berwick in 1823 for the murder of her husband John Griffin, lived at the Lord Nelson in Chapel Street. Did she?

Now the Chapel Street pubs are doing my head in. The only two pubs shown on the 1852 OS map are the Tweed Inn and the Kings Arms, yet the directories of that time tell us the Chapel Street pubs were: the Fishmongers Arms, the Kings Head (presumably the Kings Arms), the Tweed and the Pitmans Arms. Earlier and later pub names I have for Chapel Street are: the Fiddle & Tam, Freemasons Arms, Prince of Wales’ Head, Gibraltar Tavern, Gibraltar Rock, Globe, Harp and Lord Nelson. So how do they all fit in?

Detail from 1852 OS map.

Chapel Street looking south, 1930s.

I noticed that the first occupant of the Tweed Inn, in 1847, was one Elizabeth Griffin. A family connection with the doomed Grace Griffin, the last person in 1823 to be hanged in Berwick? Knowing the newspaper report of her trial contained various references to family members, I scoured the story, in vain, for Elizabeth. 

That evening I was at the Castle Hotel having a pint with Mike Newham, a chap I occasionally meet, chatting about property and mortgages when he let slip he had a second property in Berwick; 40 Chapel Street, aka, the Tweed Inn! “How interesting!”, I said, and explained this project asking if I could have a look inside. “Of course.”, he replied, “And I’ve also got a load of deeds for it. I’ll let you look at them and copy them if you like.”

And very interesting they are. 

Dontcha just love coincidence? The first paper I pick from the pile is a statement from James Black, a lawyer writing in 1869, about how in 1846 he had attended the funeral of, and read the Will of, one William Griffin who was married to… Elizabeth Griffin! So nothing (directly) to do with Grace. The name of the pub of which he was landlord was the Masonic Arms. The what? Is that the same as the Masons Arms? No; that was on the site of Berwick Library and isn’t referred to until 1855.

There are a whole lot of other statements from people—there seems to be some legal discrepancy—one of which is from George Patterson Muir who turns out to have been Elizabeth Griffin’s brother. In his statement he informs us she remarried in about 1859 to George Haig.

Declaration by George Patterson Muir, 1869. (Courtesy Mike Newham.)

It reads: I George Patterson Muir of Berwick upon Tweed […] do solemnly and sincerely declare as follows. 

That I knew William Griffin late of Berwick upon Tweed aforesaid Carter very well who was the owner of and resided in the House and premises now occupied by me as a Public House situate in Chapel Street in Berwick upon Tweed aforesaid and known by the sign of the Masonic Arms. 

My Sister Elizabeth inter married with the said William Griffin. 

The said William Griffin died on the tenth day of March one thousand eight hundred and forty six and I remember returning to the said house after the funeral of the said William Griffin together with other relatives and the Will of the said William Griffin was then read by James Black formerly of Berwick upon Tweed aforesaid Cutler [sic; presumably meant to be “Carter”] by which said Will the said house and premises were devised to Elizabeth my said Sister during Widowhood and on her remarriage or decease to me this declarant my heirs and assigns. 

I saw the said Will of the said deceased it was signed by him in his own proper handwriting and the attesting witnesses were George Hall since deceased and George Scott who I believe is now somewhere in America. 

After the said Will had been read by the said James Black as aforesaid he handed it to my said Sister Elizabeth the Widow of the said William Griffin. 

My said Sister Elizabeth the Widow of the said William Griffin afterwards in the year one thousand eight hundred and forty nine intermarried with a Mr George Haigh and died in or about the year one thousand eight hundred and fifty nine. 

I have made every search and endeavour to discover the said Will of the said William Griffin deceased but have been unable to find it and I verily believe the same to have been lost or mislaid. I have not deposited it with any one or given any one a right to hold it.

 And I make this solemn declaration…

This seals the deal. At some point prior to 1846, William Griffin was landlord of the Masonic Arms when his widow Elizabeth took it on, presumably then changing the name to the Tweed Inn. Between 1855 and 1862, George Haig was the landlord of the Tweed Inn after which it reverted to George Patterson Muir. The last mention of it as the Tweed is in 1869. 

George Patterson Muir died in 1878. In his Will made out in 1870, he names John McKeon as his deputy landlord (by this stage Muir must have been getting on; he was born in 1812) and to be his sole beneficiary. In 1874 we find the first mention of McKeon running the Harp. It closed in 1912.

Last Will and Testament of George Patterson Muir, 1870. (Courtesy Mike Newham.)

So what of the other Griffins? I’m no genealogist but from what I can piece together, William Griffin was born in 1816. He had (at least) two older siblings, Jean (b1796) and Henry (b1812). Their parents were Henry Griffin (b1772) and Eleanor. (Henry’s parents were William and Jane.) The burgess roll for 1817 lists a Henry Griffin as “mariner” and eldest son of William. The 1806 directory names one Henry Griffin as the landlord of the Admiral Nelson (towards the bottom of Eastern Lane). 

It is speculative but could Henry, father of William, have served in the Royal Navy under Nelson? Of course, the Battle of Trafalgar, Lord Nelson and Gibraltar immediately became part of national lore in 1805 after his famous victory. However, Nelson had gained national fame for his earlier exploits in the Mediterranean. He assisted Admiral Sir John Jervis at the Battle of Cape St Vincent off the south coast of Portugal (1797), and the Battle of the Nile (1798). Nelson was given the freedom of Berwick in 1798 (though he never visited the town). There are several pubs in Berwick honouring him, two of which were in Chapel Street.

Gibraltar Tavern, Church Street

First recorded as a Masonic Lodge meeting place in 1794, it was run by James Elliot between 1800 and 1806. After this it is no longer mentioned.

Gibraltar Rock, 4 Chapel Street

Undoubtedly the same place with a slight name change as the Gibraltar Tavern. It was on the corner of Chapel Street/Church Street. It is first mentioned in 1822 run by Johnathan Cairns and ends with John Davidson in 1837.

It became the Fishmongers Arms under Dixon Moor in 1847 and then the Fishers Arms under Thomas Baxendale in 1861. John Gallagher ran the house from 1881 and as the Fishermans Arms from 1902 until it closed in 1907.

Lord Nelson, 40 Chapel Street 

Recorded from 1822–1828 (James Young) and 1834–1841 (Robert Simpson). It is possible that this was the pub which became the Masonic Arms (????–c1846) and then the Tweed Inn (1847–1869) and later the Harp (1874–1912). 

Was this John Griffin’s pub? To my mind, it seems unlikely. The full account of Grace Griffin’s trial (Berwick Advertiser 23rd July 1823) refer to John Griffin as running a “house, in which they sold small beer [a very weak ale] and spirits without any licence”. However, the Lord Nelson was, at this time run by James Young. Yet there is a family connection of sorts; from 1834 until 1841 it was occupied by Robert Simpson who employed an Eleanor Griffin as a servant. Whether there is any direct relationship is unknown; there was another family of Griffins living in Wallace Green at the time.

Admiral Nelson, Eastern Lane

Run by Henry Griffin in 1806.

Admiral Nelson, Church Street

Run by Thomas Nelson (!) in 1806.

Admiral St Vincent’s Head, Parade

Run by James How in 1806.  This pub probably dates back to about 1801 when Sir John Jervis, Nelson’s commander, was created 1st Earl of St Vincent after his action at the naval engagement.

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The Rose and Thistle

The Rose and Thistle was a pub on the corner of Walkergate and Chapel Street. In the 1970s it was run by Eckie (Alexander) and Alice Robertson. The last publican was Peter McAskill in 1982. It was then sold by the brewery and became the Café Select and then in 1985 the Cobbled Yard Restaurant and B&B run, until their retirement last year, by Fred and Lynda Miller. 

The Rose and Thistle has long been a emblem of unity between England and Scotland since the Union of the Crowns in 1603: one of James VI/I heraldic badges combined the two. Each symbol has older roots. The thistle first appeared in Scottish iconography on the coins of King James III (1460–1488). The red and white Tudor rose of England was itself a union of the red and white roses of Lancaster and York adopted as a dynastic symbol by Henry VII after he seized the English throne in 1485. Yet the combination of the cross-border flare had been a metaphor of unity as early as 1503, when William Dunbar the Scottish court poet, composed The “Thrissil and the Rois” to mark the wedding, in August 1503, of King James IV of Scotland to Margaret Tudor eldest daughter of Henry VII of England, as agreed in the optimistically entitled Treaty of Perpetual Peace of 1502.

Union of the Crowns Badge: Tudor Rose dimidiated with the Scottish Thistle, used by King James I & VI to symbolised the personal union of his realm. It was used by other monarchs until 1702.

Yet, despite the history, in the context of public houses, the Rose and Thistle is not confined to the north: there are many “Rose and Thistles” as far south as Berkshire and Surrey.

The Rose and Thistle probably became a pub in the 1860s. The 1852 OS map does not mark the property as being a pub. The first landlord I can trace is from 1870 when the lease on the pub was being advertised as “…doing a good steady business, as at present occupied by Mr A Lunn.” This suggests it had been trading for a few years. Andrew Lunn had been in the pub trade in this area for some time. On the other side of Walkergate were two pubs—the White Horse and the Crown and Thistle. In 1866, Lunn was landlord of the Crown and Thistle. The lease was taken by George Haig and Lunn moved to the White Horse. 

Detail from 1852 OS map showing the locations of some of the pubs in Walkergate and Chapel Street.

Haig did not last long and was replaced in 1871 by John Anderson. He stayed somewhat longer, being succeeded by John Rhodes in 1880. He also had a short tenancy and in turn was replaced later that year by James Forbes Hay until, in 1886, we find John Renwick the incumbent.

In 1927 Bridget Stangroom (neé Boham) died aged 78. She had come from Ireland with her father and siblings and in 1871 working as a dressmaker living in Narrow Lane off Chapel Street and by 1881, in Wallace Green. In 1883, she married a retired bandmaster with the Northumberland Fusiliers, Sergeant Robert Stangroom, who had been based at the barracks. He took over the licence of the Rose and Thistle in 1887 but died later that year. His wife continued the business for 41 years. One of her daughters, Millie, also died that year. She had married Mr Clement Pattison in 1905 and had been a teacher at St Cuthbert’s School.

It was described by the Head Constable in 1904. 

“The door from Walkergate opened into the bar, and through this a small well-furnished parlour was reached. The counter ran right across the bar, and no one could pass it without permission. The cellar ran straight down from the bar, and was a good big cellar, opening on to the stable yard, which in turn had a gate opening on Walkergate. The stable was sub-let, and the distance of the gate from the front door was 18 yards. At the back of the bar was a passage with a small room on the right of it used for domestic as well as drinking purposes. This passage led into another at right angles which, to the left, led into the yard, with a w.c. and urinal. To the right, this passage led into Chapel Street by a back door. The door was no less than 17 yards away from the front door and was 35 yards away from the other door in Walkergate. He considered that this Chapel Street door ought to be closed, as no police supervision could be exercised over a house so constructed.”

The police were complaining because of their suspicion of out of hours illegal drinking; not that the Rose and Thistle was unique in this respect by any means. The Head Constable went on to point out that in his annual report he alluded to the fact that a girl of 14 had been allowed to serve in the bar. It was not right to have a girl of that age left in charge of a bar in such a neighbourhood. The girl in question would likely have been Maria Stangroom, actually aged 16 or 17 at the time. Mrs Stangroom once appeared at the Berwick Quarter Sessions in 1903 charged with receiving stolen goods—a gold ring, gold brooch and other valuables—stolen by one Charles Smith of Kelso from Elizabeth Simpson, the landlady of the Lamb Inn in Tweedmouth. The jury found her not guilty due to insufficient evidence. 

“The Clerk announced the Magistrates design as follows:—The Chapel Street door to be allowed to continue, to be lighted, and widened. Kitchen not to be used for domestic purposes, the cellar door in the yard to be locked, and plans to be approved. The Magistrates accept the undertaking that the girl would not serve.”

Chapel Street looking south in the early 20th century. The closest door on the left may be the rear entrace to the Rose and Thistle yard. The Masons Arms is on the right with the projecting sign.

Whether or not these alterations occurred is uncertain. In 1911 the architects Grey and Boyd of 2 Ivy Place, Berwick where commissioned by the brewery to undertake an extensive internal refit of the pub but this never took place.

Grey and Boyd’s proposed ground floor layout of the Rose and Thistle, 1911. Redrawn from original plans in Berwick Record Office (BRO 2367/1913/1).

Probably because, in the early 20th century, the Council had come to terms with the fact much of the housing in this area was inadequate and a slum clearance was planned. Part of this would entail the widening of Chapel Street. As a first stage of this project, in 1912, the Council resolved to buy the Rose and Thistle. Grey and Boyd were once more engaged by the brewery Johnson and Darling Ltd for the job. This in itself says something about the worth of the pub. Following the new licensing acts of 1902, the magistrates had embarked upon a programme of pub closures. The project also involved a new house, 42 Walkergate, but this appears not to have been built and the space is now used by the site as a private car park.

Grey and Boyd’s ground floor layout of the rebuilt Rose and Thistle, 1913. Redrawn from original plans in Berwick Record Office (BRO 2367/1913/1).

This programme of widening Chapel Street was interrupted by WWI. The property next door was also owned by the brewery and had been demolished by 1922 as they were offering it up to the people of Church Street as a children’s playground. In 1933, the small terrace Picardy Place was built. WWII prevented further widening on this side of the street and the properties 40–44 Church Street remain as testament to the old alignment. 40 Church Street had been the Tweed Inn (1847), later the Harp Inn (1887–1902 at least).

Present day Chapel Street looking south showing Picardy Place beyod the Cobbled Yard and the original alignment of the street beyond. The slums of Narrow Lane and Wheatherly Square on the right were replaced by the bus station in 1936.

After Bridget Stangroom died, The licence was taken on by George McKay and then by John Nesbit Brown in 1930 until 1946.

Rose detail in the window inspired by the art of Charles Rennie Mackintosh and Margaret Macdonald Mackintosh.

Windows saved from the pub.

[berwicktimelines]

Berwick Cut Off By The Weather

Think the snow is bad this week? Have the shops run out of food? Spare a thought for our predecessors 700 years ago. I was looking forward to travelling to Amsterdam today but Berwick is blocked off by the snow, but many are far worse off. So, by way of a cathartic attempt at giving the “Beast of the East” the finger, here is an offering for you.

Background—The Great Famine of 1315–1317

Famines were familiar occurrences in medieval Europe. For most people there was often not enough to eat, and life was a relatively short and brutal struggle to survive to old age. According to official records about the English royal family, an example of the best off in society, for whom records were kept, the average life expectancy in 1276 was 35 years. During the Great Famine it was 30 years while between 1348 and 1375 during the Plague, it was only 17 years. Prior to 1300 during the so-called Medieval Warm Period, the population of Europe exploded compared to prior eras, reaching levels that were not matched again in some places until the nineteenth century: parts of rural France today are less populous than at the beginning of the fourteenth century. However, the yield ratios of wheat, the number of seeds one could eat per seed planted, had been dropping since 1280, and food prices had been climbing. After favourable harvests, the ratio could be as high as 7:1, but after unfavourable harvests it was as low as 2:1—that is, for every seed planted, two seeds were harvested, one for next year's seed, and one for food. By comparison, modern farming has ratios of 30:1 or more. Between 1310 and 1330, northern Europe saw some of the worst and most sustained periods of bad weather in the entire Middle Ages, characterised by severe winters and rainy and cold summers. Changing weather patterns, the ineffectiveness of medieval governments in dealing with crises and population level at a historical high made it a time for little margin for error in food production.

Dying children outside the safety of the city walls. This image shows the rain and comets, seen as a portent of doom.

In the spring of 1315, unusually heavy rain began in much of Europe. Throughout the spring and the summer, it continued to rain, and the temperature remained cool. Under such conditions, grain could not ripen, leading to widespread crop failures. In addition, the straw and hay for the animals could not be cured, so there was no fodder for the livestock and salt, the only way to cure and preserve meat, was difficult to obtain because brine could not be effectively evaporated in wet weather; its price increased from 30 shillings to 40 shillings. The price of food began to rise; prices in England doubled between spring and midsummer. Stores of grain for long-term emergencies were limited to royalty, lords, nobles, wealthy merchants and the Church. Because of the general increased population pressures, even lower-than-average harvests meant some people would go hungry; there was little margin for failure. People began to harvest wild edible roots, plants, grasses, nuts and bark in the forests. A number of documented incidents show the extent of the famine. Edward II, King of England, stopped at St Albans on 10 August 1315 and had difficulty finding bread for himself and his entourage; it was a rare occasion in which the King of England was unable to eat. In the spring of 1316, it continued to rain on a European population deprived of energy and reserves to sustain itself. All segments of society from nobles to peasants were affected but especially the peasants, who represented 95% of the population and who had no reserve food supplies. To provide some measure of relief, the future was mortgaged by slaughtering the draft animals, eating the seed grain. Old people voluntarily refused food for the younger generation to survive. The chroniclers of the time noted many incidents of cannibalism. Abandoning children to fend for themselves was commonplace and may have been the basis for the story Hansel and Gretel.

Hansel and Gretel

The height of the famine was reached in 1317, as the wet weather continued. Finally, in that summer, the weather returned to its normal patterns. By then, however, people were so weakened by disease, and so much of the seed stock had been eaten, that it was not until 1325 that the food supply returned to relatively normal levels and the population began to increase again. It is estimated that 10–25% of the population of many cities and towns died. Though the Black Death (1347–1351) would kill more people, it often swept through an area in a matter of months, whereas the Great Famine lingered for years, prolonging the suffering of the populace. The Great Famine is noteworthy not only for the number of people who died, but also its lasting consequences. In a society whose final recourse for all problems had been religion, no amount of prayer seemed effective against the causes of the famine. That undermined the institutional authority of the Church and helped lay the foundations for later movements that were deemed heretical by the Church, as they opposed the papacy and blamed the perceived failure of prayer upon corruption within the Church.

From the Wittenberg Bible – a scene of famine and disease.

Medieval Europe in the fourteenth century had already experienced widespread social violence, and even acts then punishable by death. The famine led to a stark increase in crime, because people would resort to any means to feed themselves or their family. For the next several decades, after the famine, Europe took on a tougher and more violent edge; it became an even less amicable place than during the twelfth and the thirteenth centuries. The famine also undermined confidence in medieval governments for their failure to deal with its resulting crises.

(edited from Wikipedia)

The Famine in Berwick

Berwick in the 13th century had grown to be the most prosperous Scottish town during the reign of Alexander III. The sudden change from light to dark was succinctly put by a Scots chronicler:

Quhen Alysandyr our Kyng was dede That Scotland led in luve and le Awaye was sons of ale and brede, Of wyne and wax, of gamyn and gie. Our gold was changed into lede. Cryst borne into virginite Succour Scotland and remede That stad is in perplexitye.

Records of Berwick graphically demonstrate the suffering. Maurice de Berkeley, 2nd Baron Berkeley, was Governor of Berwick from 17th April, 1315, until 1317. 

Effigy of Maurice de Berkeley, 2nd Baron Berkeley "The Magnanimous", St Augustine's Abbey, Bristol

His time at Berwick was not a happy one as the letters below demonstrate. John Scott (1888) informs us that after Berkeley’s appointment:

During the following months ships from various ports were sent hither with provisions. The Rose from London was sent with wheat, etc., under the guidance of Martin Atheloff; two ships, Mariole and La Godyere, of Berwick, came from William de Getour, of Hull, to Berwick, on the same errand. A safe-conduct was granted to Thomas de Chesewyk, servant to Walter de Gosewyk, merchant, to guide a ship to Berwick with provisions to our faithful ones in the fortifications there. So that under the supervision of Hugh de Hogton a vast cargo of wheat, barley, oats and beans was stored up there by the end of the summer. About 4,000 qrs. of wheat, 3,000 qrs. of oats, 700 of barley, and 1,400 of beans, were in safe keeping for the southern armies.

Note that these supplies are designated for the English armies in the south of Scotland rather than Berwick. Letters from the Warden of Berwick and Chamberlain of Scotland, forwarded by the King to the Chancellor and Treasurer, 17 October 1315, appear to tell a different story. Other records speak of Scottish ships raiding English supply ships from the south.

The Chamberlain [Maurice de Berkeley] informs the King that the provisions, wine, etc., which the sheriff of Lincoln shewed him at Boston on 20 July ready for shipment to Berwick, and promised to send instantly to the amount of £300 or £400 have never appeared. The town is in great straits, and many dying from hunger. If the mayor and himself had not promised them food and clothing for the winter, the garrison would have gone. Begs the King urgently to enable this pledge to be kept. Berwick, 3 October.

The Warden writes that the town and inhabitants never were in such distress, and will be this winter, if God and the King do not think more of them, and quickly. For if money and provisions do not arrive before All Saints, they will give up their posts and leave the town to a man. Reminds the King that when he gave him the charge, he promised to supply him with money and victuals, and if they do not come by the above day he must give up, and remain as a simple bachelor; for he cannot hold the chief post without supplies. Berwick, October.

Another, anonymous letter, says that on St Valentine's day a great part of the garrison made a foray close to Melrose Abbey. No knight was with them, and the warden ordered them not to go out, but they replied they had nothing to eat, and it was better to die fighting than starve. Eighty of their number were killed, and others taken prisoner by the Scots on their return to Brewick. The supplies they had stolen were retaken.

Morice de Berkele to Sir William Ingge.

Tells him no town was ever in such distress as Berwick short of being taken or surrendered. The garrison are deserting daily, and there are none left in the town, save only such of the garrison of the castle as are not slain or dead of hunger. If the town is lost, the blame will rest on him as one of the King's chief councillors. Whenever a horse dies in the town the men-at-arms carry off the flesh and boil and eat it, not letting the foot touch it till they have had what they will. Pity to see Christians leading such a life. If he would save the town, prays him to send assistance quickly.

Morice de Berkeley, John de Weston, Randolf de Holm, and the garrison, send John de Rigeton to the King. to say that they are almost starved and many dead and maimed, as the bearer will relate, and beg speedy relief. Berwick, 18 February 1316.

Sir Moryz de Berkele, warden of Berwick, to the King

The burghers are deep in debt, and his men are dying of hunger on the walls. He has supplied them out of his own means while he had any. The town was never in such a state, as he has often told the King; but he sees clearly that no order of the latter is obeyed. Whatever his ministers may say to the contrary, there has not come to Berwick, either in money or provisions, since he arrived there, more than £4000, and there are ten weeks short of the year. Of the 300 men-at-arms enrolled, only 50 can be mustered mounted and armed, the rest of the horses being dead, and the arms at pledge for the owners sustenance. He has not had a penny of his own pay since Michaelmas. Begs him to take thought for them and the town, for if he loses it, he will lose all the north, and they their lives. Begs another warden may be appointed, as his term expires a month after Easter, and he will remain no longer. Thinks no attention has been paid to his former letters. 2 March 1316.

The mayor, bailiffs and community of Berwick to the King

Tell him that the town is in great danger, as there are only provisions for one month. The enemy's cruisers cut off their supplies, and last Thursday captured two vessels with victuals, the crews barely escaping with their lives. The Warden tells them his term of office has expired, but he remains at the King's wish till Pentecost next, but no longer. Beg a successor and succours without delay. Tell him that the town is in great danger, as there are only provisions for one month... Sir Robert de Bruys will be at Melrose before Ascension Day with all his force, and do his utmost, they fear, to annoy them by treason or otherwise... 10 May 1316

Berkeley was rewarded for his loyalty being promised a £600 bonus on top of his usual pay of £1000, but this was late being paid. In the 1320s, Berkeley joined  Thomas, 2nd Earl of Lancaster in his rebellion against King Edward II and the Despencers. Also on his side in the rebellion was Roger la Zouch of Lubbesthorp, his first wife's nephew. His son, Thomas de Berkeley was in charge of Berkeley Castle where Edward II was held prisoner before his murder in 1327. Coincidence or family grudge?

There were profound consequences for Berwick politically. These records describe the misery felt by the garrison and inhabitants of Berwick. It also suggests that Robert the Bruce was using the situation to his advantage. Having failed to take Berwick in December 1313, after his victory at Bannockburn, Bruce was tightening the screws and belts in Berwick, weakening it for another attempt. He tried once more in January 1316 but a barking dog alerted the garrison. And then:

Around the feast of St. Peters Chains, the burgesses of Berwick, with Walter de Goswik their then mayor, having been very much harassed by the keepers of the town appointed by the King [Maurice de Berkeley], with the support of Sir Roger de Horsley, who had been appointed to the custody of the castle by the King, sought and obtained from the King of England the custody of the town, having given hostages. August 1317

News reached James Douglas, Bruce’s principal ally, who after Bannockburn,  had captured Roxburgh Castle. With the town destitute and antagonistic towards the English government, an opportunity presented itself. He managed to bribe Peter de Spalding who let the Scots over the walls at the Cow Gate in 1318. Berwick was Scottish once more.

Click here for more on Bruce and Berwick!

[berwicktimelines]

When Is A Gate Not A Gate?

When it’s a street!

There has always been much confusion about the Berwick street names, and openings in the walls, ending in “-gate”. When applied to a street name, such as Marygate, it derives from the Viking word gata meaning “street”. When used as an opening in the walls, it comes through the Old English geat meaning “an opening”. Here are the many and varied street names that have existed in Berwick. In brackets are the dates these names are mentioned in records or on maps. Early names sometimes use the ending “-gang” which is also from Old English gang "a going, journey, way, passage”. The word survives in modern words such as gangplank and gangway. The two main thoroughfares in Berwick have always been based on a crossroads in the centre of town behind the Town Hall. The first road led from the Quayside/Bridge Street area up Hide Hill and continuing north up Church Street, and (before the 16th century Elizabethan ramparts were built) left the town heading to Edinburgh. The other road was the Woolmarket/Marygate/Castlegate/Castle Terrace route to the Borders. When the road to Edinburgh was cut off by the new ramparts, what we know as North Road was created to connect the Border road to the Edinburgh road.

The first section contains the major modern roads, arranged alphabetically, and their old equivalents (with dates recorded). This is followed by the old names, the locations of many being unknown. Lastly, a round up of all the gateways.

Modern street names

Bridge Street: Briggate (1165–1562) “the street to the bridge”.

Castlegate: (1562) “The street to the castle” possibly used after the building of the Elizabethan ramparts in the 1560s. See Burghgate.

Chapel Street: (1834) formerly Shaw’s Lane, it was renamed long after the building of the Presbyterian chapel, the High Meeting House, in 1724. See Walkergate.

Church Street: Soutergate (1338–1562). A souter was a maker or mender of shoes. From Old English sutere, from Latin sutor "shoemaker," from suere "to sew, stitch”.

Eastern Lane: Land of Dodyn (1147–80) an area near Eastern Lane often associated with the Land of Walef. See West Street.

Golden Square: (1822) Nobody knows the origin of the name but it was neither square or golden. An “poetic” explanation is a reference to the golden light reflected off the building from a setting sun. It is highly unlikely it was the site of the medieval mint.

Greenses: Grenes (1562). The area was largely open land until the 19th century.

Hide Hill: Huddinggate (1227), Uddyngate (–1338), Hyde Hill (1562–1858). 
Hide Hill has nothing to do with animal hides or tanning. A hide/hyde/hythe is an (unspecified) area of land needed to support a (major) house. See also Hidegate.

Marygate: Until the end of the 19th century, Marygate is often just referred to as the High Street. The name begins usage referring to the stretch between the Scotsgate and Golden Square only. See Gates: St Mary Gate.

Palace Street: All the land between the walls and Ness Street was simply known as the Ness until the early 19th century.

Railway Street: (1840s—) Possibly Tait’s Lane (1851 census).

Ravensdowne: The Ravens’ Dean. Ravenseden (14th C), Rotten Rowe (1562), Back Way (1799,1806), Union Street (1800–1820s)

Sandgate: Sometimes classed as part of Hide Hill, this road led to the Quayside. See Shoregate

Silver Street: Hidegate (1335, 1562). There is some evidence to suggest it was further south in line with Bridge Street. See also Hide Hill.

Tweed Street: (and Railway Street) Windmilhoole (1562–1837). An area of windmills obviously. The name survived in a house on Railway Street called the Windmill Hole Gallery. 

West Street: Land of Walef/Walthef/Waldef (1139–1165) An area including the lower part of West Street to Bridge Street. Waldefgate (1257), Waldegate (14th C), Wildesgate (1562), Wester/Western Lane (–1878).

Walkergate: Maybe Sissergate. Walkergate Lane (until early 20th C). 
May once have been modern Chapel Street. Before the Elizabethan ramparts were built, it extended north, parallel to Marygate/Castlegate, joining with Castlegate near the war memorial. This would explain 16th century references to “Walkergate Without The Rampire”. With the building of the walls, the road from Wallace Green to Marygate gained importance and took over the name.

Wallace Green: Derived from “walles green” (the green area by the walls), the area stretched from east Walkergate around to the upper part of Ravensdowne. It has nothing to do with William Wallace. The modern name refers to an extension of Church Street. This was the road to Edinburgh which explains why what appears to be a short cul-de-sac is so wide.

Woolmarket: Crossgate (1306–1562) “the street to/from the market cross”. It is often thought that the Red Hall, the hall of the Flemish wool merchants in Berwick was here, falsely linking the two with wool. It was actually in the Bridge Street area. There was a sheep market at the top of Hide Hill in the 18th and 19th centuries which may have led to the street name.

Old street names

Bradthroughgang: (1334) Unknown location.

Burghgate: (1313) “The street to the burgh”—Castlegate and possibly Marygate.

Butcher Street: (1147–1334) Probably an area behind the corner of Marygate and Church Street, later known as the Shambles which was until 1844 a cattle market and slaughterhouse area.

Crossgate: See Woolmarket.

Fishergate: (1296) Possibly Foul Ford/Palace Street.

Fleshwergate: (1334, 1358) Unknown location.

Frou­theriengang: (1334) Between Church Street and Ravensdowne, possibly the passageway that now leads to St Aidan’s Church.

Gambslaine: (1562) See Eastern Lane.

Kergate: (1336) Unknown location.

Land of Dodyn: See Eastern Lane.

Land of Walef: See West Street.

Le Nesse: Later, simply Ness, the area now known as Palace Street, Palace Green, etc. From the French nez meaning “nose”, referring to the shape of the Berwick peninsula. “The Snook” is a phrase meaning “promontory”.

Narougate: Probably the same as Eastern Lane, but may have been another in the Ness (Foul Ford?). In the 19th century, a Narrowgate ran through a built up housing are between Chapel Street and Marygate.

Quarelgate: (1336) Unknown location. A quarrel, is an old word for a quarry.

Ropery Lane: (1852) Bell Tower Place.

Scyruen Lane: (14th C) Unknown location.

Shaw's Lane: See Chapel Street.

Sissergate: (1313) Unknown location, but associated with Castlegate. Possibly modern Walkergate.

Soutergate: See Church Street. 

Uddynggate: See Hide Hill.

Vikerwende: (14th C) “Vicar’s Wynd”, a path from Church Street to the Parish Church.

Wind­milhoole: See Tweed Street.

Next time a tourist asks for directions, try giving them using medieval street names! “The Parish Church? Just go along Burghgate, turn into Sissergate and carry on along Vikerwende and you’re there.” What could be simpler?

Gates (M=medieval walls; E=Elizabethan Ramparts; O=Other)

Bridge Gate: (M) The gate on the original bridges just upstream of the Old Bridge.

Cow Gate: i) (M) A gate through the walls which ran outside the Elizabethan Walls. It was the gate through which livestock were taken to graze on Magdalene Fields. ii) (E) The last original Elizabethan gateway replaceing the earlier one.

English Gate: (M) The “triumphal arch” on the Berwick side of the Old Bridge, rebuilt in 1743. It was taken down in 1825 with the demilitarisation of the town.

Maison Dieu Gate: (M) A small gate near the Old Bridge. The Maison Dieu was a medieval religious house near Bridge End.

Ness Gate: i) (M) A small gate at the south end of Quay Walls. ii) (O) Built c.1811 this gate was added to access the new pier. There had been a small gate in the Watch Tower just to the south which may have served a similar purpose.

Segate: (M) See Shoregate

Shoregate: (O) The gate on to the Quayside on the site of the Segate which was modified in the 18th century, as were all the riverside medieval defences. Sometimes referred to as the Fishgate.

Scotsgate: (E) Often referred to as the Scotchgate, it was originally called the New St Mary Gate, a reference to the medieval gate to its north. It is from this, we get the street name Marygate. See St Mary Gate.

St Mary Gate: (M) The gateway guarding the Burghgate to the Borders located near the Castlegate/Northumberland Avenue junction. It was the site of a toll house until the early 19th century. It gets its name from the Hospital (a place of hospitality) of Mary Magdalene near the entrantce to Berwick Holiday Park. Walysgate: (M) (Pronounced “wullish-gate”) A large gateway guarding the road to Edinburgh, situated between the Bell Tower and Lord’s Mount. From the Old English wielisc meaning foreigner, hence “Welsh” and ultimately, “Wallace” as a family name. Like Wallace Green, it has nothing to do with William Wallace.

Water Gate: (M) Remains of a water gate exist within Fishers Fort. This water gate seems to have been a small gate nearer Coxon’s Tower.

I hope that’s all clear!

[berwicktimelines]

The Outlaw King Comes To Berwick

And so the Hollywood/Netflix circus has been in town to film The Outlaw King, starring Chris Pine, Florence Pugh, and James Cosmo among others. One star that sadly may not, for many, shine as brightly is Berwick-upon-Tweed. Yes, its great fun watching the filming this week and we hope that it will bring some much needed extra income to the town, but the filming locations—the Quayside and the Old Bridge—are the stunt doubles for Glasgow and London Bridge. This is a great shame as Bruce had an important part in Berwick’s medieval past. Let us examine his role.

Early Days

One of many misconceptions is that the Bruce family were Scottish. They started off, like so many of the nobility in Britain as Norman; the name comes from Brix in Normandy. They acquired, and fortified, Hartlepool after the Norman Conquest but were later grated Annandale (in modern Dumfries and Galloway) by King David I of Scotland in 1124.

The story starts in 1286 with the death of King Alexander III and the ensuing Great Cause of 1291. Of the noblemen claiming the Scottish throne there were only two real contenders, John Balliol and Robert de Brus, 5th Lord of Annandale. (As with so many families, the first names are handed down through the generations which can be confusing. This Robert Bruce was the grandfather of our Robert the Bruce and future King Robert I, who was born in 1274.) The Balliols, who were allied to the Comyns, and Bruces had been spoiling for a fight for some time; John II “Black” Comyn had been a third possible contender for the Scottish throne. In 1295 after members of the Scottish nobility refused to pay homage to Edward I, among them, the Bruces. Following Edward’s demands of the Scots for military assistance, the Scots formed what became known as the Auld Alliance with France. The burgesses of Berwick, the principal Scottish Royal Burgh, latterly signed up to this alliance.

Watch Out Bruce—He’s Comyn For You!

Meanwhile, Edward was attending to “diplomatic discussions” in France which were proving awkward to say the least. While away, the Scots kept their side of the Alliance and made incursions into the north of England. Annandale was attacked by King John (Balliol) and given to John Comyn, Earl of Buchan; the Bruces, evicted from their estates in south-west Scotland sought the safety of England and sided with Edward I. Sensing trouble ahead, Edward I appointed Robert the Bruce’s father, another Robert de Brus, 6th Lord of Annandale, as governor of Carlisle Castle. On 26 March 1296, Easter Monday, seven Scottish earls led by Comyn attacked Carlisle. This was to be the first act of aggression in the first Wars of Scottish Independence. However, it was not so much an attack on the English than the Comyn family taking on the Bruces. It was the last straw however and led to Edward returning to England and commanding his army muster in Newcastle and march north. Edward laid waste to Berwick on Good Friday 30th March. Balliol was deposed as King of Scotland.

And so to William Wallace. After his Battle of Stirling Bridge on the 11th September 1297, Wallace was appointed Guardian of Scotland, the first to hold the post during the second interregnum. His men harried the north of England down to Hexham. The English basically abandoned Berwick and one of Wallace’s men, Haliburton, took Berwick and kept it until Wallace returned north in early 1298 after trashing Northumberland. In turn, the Scots abandoned the town by the next Spring pre-empting Edward’s wrath. Wallace was defeated at the Battle of Falkirk in 1298 and resigned as Guardian. Bruce and John III “Red” Comyn were appointed joint Guardians of Scotland in his place but Bruce resigned in 1300. He, in turn was replaced by Sir Ingram de Umfraville and William de Lamberton. 

In 1301, Edward launched his sixth invasion of Scotland after which in 1302 many of the Scottish nobility, including Bruce, swore fealty to him. In 1303, Edward launched yet another attack north of the border reaching as far north as Aberdeen. Now, all of Scottish nobility surrendered to Edward, save Wallace, who was eventually captured near Glasgow in 1305 and met a very sticky end. Both Comyn and Bruce still held dearly their claims to the Scottish throne and it was at a meeting between them on 10 February 1306 at the Chapel of the Greyfriars Monastery in Dumfries that Bruce accused the Red Comyn of treachery and murdered him. Bruce then began his claim to the throne through aggression with a successful attack on the English garrison at Dumfries Castle, after which his long time ally Robert Wishart, the Bishop of Glasgow granted him absolution. Nevertheless, he was excommunicated. Some English records suggest that the murder was premeditated and that Edward wrote to the Pope asking for Bruce’s excommunication.

The killing of Comyn in the Greyfriars church in Dumfries, as imagined by Felix Philippoteaux, a 19th-century illustrator.

Six weeks later, Bruce was crowned at Scone near Perth by Bishop Lamberton. Bishop Wishart who had hidden the Scottish regalia was amongst those in attendance. It was traditional that MacDuff, the Earl of Fife performed the ceremony. In the absence of any of the male MacDuffs, Isabella MacDuff claimed the right to perform the ceremony. She arrived at Scone a day late and so a second ceremony was performed.

Edward moved north yet again. He defeated Bruce on 19th June 1306 at the Battle of Methven. Bruce’s wife and other ladies of the court were sent to his brother’s castle at Kildrummy for protection. Bruce and his few followers fled. Alas, there was no safety to be had at Kildrummy. Bruce’s wife Elizabeth, his sisters Christina and Mary, and Isabella MacDuff were captured; his brother, like Wallace before, hanged, drawn and quartered. It was for her part in the crowning of Bruce that Isabella was held prisoner at Berwick Castle. Bruce was declared an outlaw.

The Bruce Comes To Berwick 

Edward I died in 1307. His heir, Edward II was a weak ruler, from whom Bruce allegedly said it was easier to gain a kingdom than a foot of land from his father. On 6th December 1313, Bruce made his first attempt to take Berwick. It is described in the Lanercost Chronicle:

“In the night, coming unexpectedly to the castle, he placed ladders against the wall and began to ascend. Unless the loud barking of a dog had made known the arrival of the Scots, he would quickly have taken the castle as well as the town. The ladders, curiously made for the purpose of scaling, were left here, and our men have hung them over the pillory as a public show. So this dog saved Berwick as formerly the cackling of the geese saved Rome.”

By this time Bruce had recaptured most castles from the English. Edward II’s response was to assemble a vast army, complete with provisions for the campaign, at Berwick. This army is said to have consisted of 60,000 foot and 40,000 horse; 3,000 of the latter are said to have been horsemen in complete armour. The King met the army here. Never had such a vast number been mustered in Berwick before of since, but numbers alone do not always bring victory; rather, it ended in a crushing defeat at Bannockburn from whence Edward returned to Berwick alone.

Emboldened, by his success, Bruce attempted another assault on Berwick. The Lanercost Chronicle again:

“Within the octaves of the Epiphany, 15th January, 1316, the King of Scotland, with a great army, came secretly to Berwick, and under brilliant moonlight made an attack by land and by sea in skiffs, hoping to have entered the town on the river side between the Bridge House and the Castle, where the walls were not yet built. But by means of watchmen and others through the noise of those attacking they were repulsed, and a certain Scotch soldier, Sir J. de Landels, was killed, and Sir James Douglas with difficulty escaped in a small skiff. And thus the whole army was put to confusion…”

Skiffs battle against the flow of the Tweed

The victory against the Scots was a Pyrrhic one. The town was in dire straits, as was all of Northern Europe, gripped by the Great Famine. Poor harvests due to cold, rainy summers were taking their toll. Letters of the day from the Warden, Maurice de Berkeley give a vivid impression of life in the town for the English garrison:

“Tells [Sir William Ingge] no town was ever in such distress as Berwick short of being taken or surrendered. The garrison are deserting daily, and there are none left in the town, save only such of the garrison of the castle as are not slain or dead of hunger. If the town is lost, the blame will rest on him as one of the King’s chief councillors. Whenever a horse dies in the town the men-at-arms carry off the flesh and boil and eat it, not letting the foot touch it till they have had what they will. Pity to see Christians leading such a life. If he would save the town, prays him to send assistance quickly.”

18 February 1316.

To the king:

“The burghers are deep in debt, and his men are dying of hunger on the walls. He has supplied them out of his own means while he had any. The town was never in such a state, as he has often told the King; but he sees clearly that no order of the latter is obeyed. Whatever his ministers may say to the contrary, there has not come to Berwick, either in money or provisions, since he arrived there, more than £4000, and there are ten weeks short of the year. Of the 300 men-at-arms enrolled, only 50 can be mustered mounted and armed, the rest of the horses being dead, and the arms at pledge for the owners sustenance. He has not had a penny of his own pay since Michaelmas. Begs him to take thought for them and the town, for if he loses it, he will lose all the north, and they their lives. Begs another warden may be appointed, as his term expires a month after Easter, and he will remain no longer. Thinks no attention has been paid to his former letters.”

2 March 1316

The mayor, bailiffs and community of Berwick to the King. Tell him that the town is in great danger, as there are only provisions for one month… Sir Robert de Bruys will be at Melrose before Ascension Day with all his force, and do his utmost, they fear, to annoy them by treason or otherwise…”

10 May 1316

The town was in disarray with a power struggle between the burgesses and the garrison. The Mayor, Walter de Goswik, had “been very much harassed by the keepers of the town appointed by the King”. James Douglas, one of Bruce’s new allies and whom had been part of the unsuccessful 1316 raid, gained intelligence of this confusion. He and Bruce amassed a new army. 

Contemporary records tell us that Douglas believed he could gain the trust of one of the garrison and bribe him to assist the Scottish cause. That man was Peter de Spalding. The Scottish poet Barbour records that Spalding:

“…was annoyed at the Governor’s ill-will to the Scotch in the town, and covenanted with Bruce through Marshal Keith to deliver up the town to him if he drew to it during night, and at the Cowgate when it was his turn to watch.”

This he did. Douglas and his men scaled the walls and hid overnight; remember, at this time the Parade/Ravensdowne area had no buildings on it, save for some stores—the King’s Garners—and the old Parish Church. In the morning, all hell broke loose as the Scots plundered the town. After a siege of six days, the castle too capitulated and King Robert strolled into the town. As for Peter de Spalding? His reward for assisting the Scots was not the promised £800 (something in the order of £300K–£400K today) but execution. The following year, Edward attempted to retake the castle but was thwarted by the efforts of the Flemish pirate-cum-siege engineer, John Crabbe. In retrospect, this was a last hurrah for the Scots. The town finally fell after the Battle of Halidon Hill in 1333 bringing to an end the last time the Scots held Berwick for any great length of time.However, the one last thing that Bruce gave to Berwick before his death in 1329 was the completion of the medieval walls begun by Edward I in 1296. 

Braveheart

Since the filming began, I have been asked one or two questions regarding the mythology that surrounds The Bruce. One story in particular that I was asked about was one that the correspondent’s teacher had passed on years ago; that Bruce’s heart had been buried in Berwick. 

Bruce died in 1329 near Dumbarton, possibly of leprosy. Robert’s final wish reflected conventional piety, and was perhaps intended to perpetuate his memory. His last regret was not partaking in any crusade. After his death his heart was removed, placed in a silver casket, and taken by Sir James Douglas on a crusade to help Spain regain Granada from the Moors. Sir James and most of the Scottish contingent were killed but his body and the casket were recovered and returned to Scotland. The casket was buried at Melrose Abbey. It was discovered in 1920 and then rediscovered in 1996 when it was forensically examined and deemed to have held human tissue of the correct age. It was reinterred in 1998. Nothing to do with Berwick.

However, Robert did arrange for perpetual soul masses to be funded at the chapel of Saint Serf, at Ayr and at the Dominican friary in Berwick (near the Bell Tower), as well as at Dunfermline Abbey.

It is ironic that arguably the one accurate thing the 1995 Mel Gibson film Braveheart portrayed (the “Braveheart” in question being Bruce’s and has nothing to do with Wallace) was Bruce’s ambivalence, siding with the English against Wallace.

Glasgow Goofs

Now, I’m no historian of Glasgow and I stand to be corrected, but some quick research reinforces my original thoughts regarding Berwick Quayside portraying the Port of Glasgow: would there have been a port in Glasgow in the early 14th century? 

The Port of Glasgow as imagined by the film makers. (Courtesy Richard Robinson)

It was (and remains) my understanding that no port on the west coast of Britain became particularly important until the “discovery” of, and eventual trade with, the Americas. Looking at an academic paper which gives tables of economic activity in all the British nations, Glasgow is very important regarding the activity of ecclesiastic houses, but the only port on that coast that gets any mention is Ayr; and the tax returns are minuscule compared to the 30% of all Scottish port customs which is from Berwick. Glasgow became a (non-Royal) Burgh in 1214, 90 years after Berwick became King David’s first Royal Burgh. Glasgow itself wasn’t easily navigable till much later. The original port may have been at Newark which became Port Glasgow. But prior to 1668, Newark was a herring fishing village, centred around Newark Castle which was built in 1478 by George Maxwell of Pollok when he inherited the Barony of Finlanstone. So how the film makers justify this eminence, I have no idea. Let us be charitable and say that its a good looking bit of artistic license for Bruce to meet up with Bishop Wishart. It is an irony that the most important port in Scotland is playing the part of a non-entity! *sighs*

Where’s Wallace?

Another old chestnut reflected in The Outlaw King is the story of what happened to the body parts of the quartered William Wallace which leads me to a criticism of the film. This is a really silly thing about the whole saga. Popular tradition says it was Wallace’s left upper quarter displayed at Berwick, probably on the bridge. The film shows the left arm of Wallace on a merket cross (improbably located on the Quayside. So 9/10 for accuracy if the port is Berwick, but it’s -10/10 if it’s meant to be Glasgow: no body part was displayed there. The other quarters were displayed at Newcastle, Stirling and Perth. 

Technicians put the final touches to the remains of Wallace

Finally, let me just reassert for the 94th time that Wallace Green has nothing to do with William Wallace—it’s a corruption of the name given to the area which James Douglas and his men would have, in 1318, been hiding out in—the Walls Green!

Anyway, I join everyone’s pleasure in the entertainment (and money) we have been given by the cast and crew and look forward to seeing the film before posting why comments on the “goofs” section of the IMDb!

Chris Pine looking suitably heroic!

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The Elizabethan Townhouse

I was recently sent an email asking what was on the site of the Elizabethan Town House at the north of Marygate.  This goes around the houses a bit but it’s a fascinating story taking in so many unrelated subplots! The Elizabethan Town House, formerly the Avenue Hotel was built in 1899 by Joseph Weatherston (1836–1910). However, to answer the question of what was there before the Avenue, we have to delve further back in time. 

The Elizabethan Town House

It is now hard to believe, but the Scotsgate was once the same size as the Cowport. A single-carriageway wooden bridge (later replaced by a stone causeway) spanned the 200 feet of the ditch in front of the walls. (This is why the road widens out to the north of the car park entrance: that is the point at which “land” was reached again.) 

English Heritage impression of the bridge across the moat at Cow Port based on a drawing dated 1719.  The bridge outside the Scotsgate would have been very similar.

Dr John Fuller, in his 1799 History of Berwick complains bitterly about the Scotsgate and its narrow bridge, and the dangers it posed. And with good reason: remember—pedestrians were vying for space with traffic in both directions, and those on foot were coming off worse. It was probably as a result of Fuller’s remonstrations that in 1806, the Council gained permission from the Board of Ordnance “for taking down and widening the Scots Gate and the Draw Bridge leading thereto, so as to render the northern entrance into the town more accessible”. In the end, probably due to cost, just the east pedestrian archway was added. Note, there was a gate inside: the town was being locked down every night until about 1815!  

Detail from OS 1st edition map, 1852.

The gate hinges can still be seen in the East gateway.

If you look at the pedestrian archway on the east side and the archway over the Cockle Steps” leading to Greenside Avenue, we can gain some insight as to what happened. Originally, where the pedestrian archway is, there was a flight of stairs leading to the rampart. We also know that there was a guard house at this side of the Scotsgate. One can see the stonework of the Cockle Steps arch has been roughly dismantled and there has been no attempt to “finish” it in any neat way. This is lucky for the building detective, as it shows the arch must have projected over what is now pavement, under the rampart steps, forming a barrel vaulted roof to the guard house. 

Detail of 1792 plan showing Scotsgate.

The rampart steps were taken down in order to create the new pedestrian archway. We can see in the Cockle Steps arch how only just enough has been removed to allow this. What happened to the guard house is unknown. It may have been downsized, rebuilt (unlikely) or abandoned. Whatever its fate, we know that 80 years later, Joseph Weatherston unblocked what was there to create Greenside Avenue.

Left: the east pedestrian gateway. Right: the Cockle Steps archway.  Note how the stonework projects from the wall and has been removed just enough to build the new arch (circled).

In 1857 the thorny question of the Scotsgate raised its head once more. The problem was now that since the arrival of the railway in 1844, the majority of people walking up and down Castlegate favoured the west side, closest to the station. A square building, known then simply as “Miss Gardiner’s house” had occupied the site since the late 17th century at least (see 1792 plan above). It projected awkwardly beyond the natural street frontage. This meant that anyone walking up the west pavement on Marygate had to either use the original vehicular road, or cross to use the east footpath, neither deemed desirable. Alderman Bogue believed the best solution was to demolish the projecting wing of the house and build a second vehicular carriageway and in its place. Later that month, however, it was resolved to leave the house alone, widen the existing vehicular arch and add a west pedestrian archway. In February 1858 the Berwick Journal took the Board of Health (who were in charge of the project) to task declaring the alterations to be a “Waste of Money!”, and that “[the public] do expect to see some benefit commensurate to the outlay [of public money]; this, however, we regret to say, they are rarely privileged to see, and in the case of the improvements at the Scotchgate they never will.”  In May the Board decided on a plan of action; to widen the existing gate to the east by 6 feet to 18 feet 3 inches, raising the arch by 1 foot, and to add a west pedestrian footpath at an estimated cost of £40–£45. Work commenced demolishing the arch in September that year. The Berwick Journal, like many a modern day tabloid, without any sense of contrition, pronounced its U-turned opinion once more: “Now that it is down, and everybody can see what a great advantage its absence is, in every respect, we trust that they will by every means in their power endeavour to be released from the obligation of building it up again, in any form whatever.”  The paper went on to suggest all that was needed was a ramp from the east side of the opening up to the ramparts. Thankfully, the Board of Ordnance stuck by its insistence that the rampart was rebuilt! But what of Miss Gardiner’s house?  The Journal had a point when it demanded that the house should be purchased, “at any price and pulled down”, so that people could actually see the new west pedestrian archway ahead, instead of missing it and using the road. While they were at it, “the Corporation might buy that old, rickety, squinting thatched house […] which disfigures the East side of the entrance to the town.”  (Situated near the B&M supermarket entrance by the Castlegate car park, it seems to have been used as a toll house.) The paper went on to suggest it being replaced by a new building “in the Edinburgh fashion”, the money being recouped by selling or letting the flats and offices therein.

Marygate, in the 1860s, after the Scotgate had been widened but before “Miss Gardiner’s House” (inset) had been demolished.

“Miss Gardiner’s house” had been occupied by a now elderly Guy Gardiner (1768–1855). He had been the Master at the first Grammar School between 1806 and 1848; only the third since 1691! The house had come as part pay with a salary of £80 a year. The original grammar school was nearby and now may form part of His two spinster daughters, Mary JS Gardiner (1804–?) a retired teacher, and her younger sister, Jane S Gardiner (1808–?) another teacher, were obviously looking after their father. The 1861 census shows that, following the death of their father, they were joined by a “cousin” the 14-year-old Jane JS Gardiner who had been born in Malta. Twenty years later, we find that young Jane was married to Thomas Fair Robertson Carr, an agricultural merchant. It is not clear whether the house sale was by mutual consent or by compulsory purchase, but by October 1881, it was to be offered to the Urban Sanitary Authority for £1625 and the projecting wing finally demolished. 

Advert for Carr’s business in the Berwick Advertiser, 1878.  Note the name of the premises—”Scotch Gates”.

But what was happening across the road at the site of the Elizabethan Townhouse? Examination of the OS 1852 map shows a very similar building layout with an archway leading through to Sidey Court, then a stonemason’s yard. Inside the arch is a blocked doorway that no doubt led into a pub called the White Hart. (Prior to this it was called the Sir Francis Burdett after the very popular reformist MP (1777–1844) elected to Middlesex, and Westminster.) 

Detail from OS 1st edition map, 1852. Note that Greenside Avenue does not yet exist.

A plaque on the blocked up door to the White Hart commemorates Councillor Thomas Sidey after whom the courtyard is named.

The date at the eaves states 1899 which is probably the date the Avenue was built as the first mention of it I can find is 1901 when the landlord was a Mr Elliott. Before Eliot or, indeed, Weatherston, the property belonged to George Back (1801–1879).  Living in Church Street (1851 census) he and his sons George (c.1827–1874) and James (1835–?) were the stonemasons to whom the yard and buildings belonged. George Jnr must have had an excellent education as by 1855 he was advertising himself as an “Architect, Land and Engineering Surveyor”.  

Advert for George Back in the Illustrated Berwick Journal, 1855.

In 1856 he fortuitously bought the lease of the Tweedmouth quarry. Fortuitous as in 1858, the King’s Quarry became the location of Tweedmouth Cemetery. Newspaper adverts from March 1857 now describe him as an “Architect and Sculptor” supplying gravestones at “The Studio, Scotchgate”, the salesroom of the family business.

Advert for George Back in the Illustrated Berwick Journal, 1857. 

By the time the 1861 census was taken, it would appear that George Snr and James had left Berwick.  What had happened? We will probably never know but in July 1860 George and James had applied for passports. A mere two months later, gone is any mention of his being an architect and sculptor; gone are the cemetery monuments. Instead, George is reduced to selling flagstones and other building materials. This would explain why his occupation in the 1861 census is listed merely as “merchant”. The change of business must have been due to the departure of George Snr and James; with nobody to make the gravestones, there were none to sell. It suggests that business had taken a downturn, possibly because, or as a result of George Snr and James’s departure to Ottawa, Canada. By now George would have been about 60: he died at James’s house there in 1878. 

Back in Berwick, in 1871, George Back Jnr was facing bankruptcy. Three years earlier, he had attempted to diversify selling ironmongery but to no avail. After three years of pitiful adverts attempting to offload a quantity of roof ridge tiles, George died in 1874.

It may have been then that Joseph Wheatherston acquired the property. He was a slater and plasterer from a family who had been in that trade for some years, starting (at least) with his grandfather Thomas Weatherston. Thomas had two sons, Joseph and William, who entered the family business. William (1799–before 1861) appears to have been working with his father from Chapel Street (1837) and then Woolmarket (1855). William was also the landlord of The Globe on Chapel Street. His brother Joseph was working in West Street. Joseph became a Councillor is 1859 and died in 1870. That year, Joseph Weatherston—son of William—took over the running of his uncle’s operation. He now lived at 1 College Place. In 1876 he was elected to Berwick Council and by 1885 become an Alderman. He later represented Berwick on Northumberland County Council. 

An article in the Berwickshire News and General Advertiser, 19th Feb 1889.

Weatherston continued as a slater/plasterer for some time. Among the buildings he worked on were the Masonic Hall in 1862 (built on the site of a storage yard he owned) and the Literary and Scientific Institute (Library and Museum, now Costa Coffee) in 1871. In 1885, he had the remains of the old guard house by Scotsgate demolished and created Greenside Avenue and later, the Avenue Hotel.

The date of the building of Greenside Avenue.

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A Little Post on a Square Building

Recently I was asked for information about the derelict building at the south end of Berwick quayside.  What was it used for?  I haven’t been able to find much in a limited time but here goes.

The earliest map I have showing a building on that site is the tithe map of 1850.  That, and subsequent maps of the latter 19th century, show a long, continuous building marked “stores”—presumably for the new Ballast Quay.  It can’t be anything to do with the old lifeboat station as that was built in 1901. 

OS 1852 map detail

At the north end is a smaller building marked “Booking Office” (for the ferry?)  The OS 1898 map shows a similar range of buildings but there appears to be a gap between the extant square building and others to the north. 

OS 1852 map detail

The narrow booking office appears to have been replaced by a building of similar width to the rest of the range.  A painting in the museum collection by Frank W Wood, dated 1882, shows the square building.  Closer examination of the north face of the square building shows a roof scar, so the long range must have been joined on to it.  Perhaps the 1898 “gap” was an alteration to allow access to the new buildings to the east.

Berwick Quayside by Frank W Wood, 1882.  Note the paddle-wheel ferry “Susan” at the ballast quay.

If anyone has any information on this building’s more recent use, I’d love to know.

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A Hole Lot of Mystery!

While researching something completely different (again!) I came across a couple of newspaper articles from 1951 which reminded me of something I read ages ago about a similar incident from 1906.  Make of it what you will!

The main problem is that the 1907 account describe a tunnel running in “a northerly direction”.  Presumably the “Edwardian fortifications” it refers to is the citadel rather than the walls which are to the east and a connecting tunnel would have to be a lot lower to connect.  Yet Mr Suthren’s report states the tunnel is running towards Ravensdowne!  Perhaps they are different tunnels.  Perhaps we will never know.

I have written to English Heritage at the National Monuments Record in Swindon to see if they have any records of this.  In the meantime, if anyone from the Piercy and Suthren families has any information, I would be extremely grateful.

Above: Cutting from Berwickshire News and General Advertiser 12th March 1907. Below:  From an article by the late Francis Cowe “The Lions Gardens” from the Berwick Bulletin 4th July 1979 referring to another contemporary account of Mr Piercy’s close shave.

Left:  The story in The Berwick Advertiser, 18th January 1951. Right:  A follow up piece the following week.

Detail from 1923 OS map.  Moor’s Ropery is shown in the centre.  This is the ridge that is the foundations of the unfinished south wall of the Elizabethan walls.   The Edwardian walls are indicated by the yellow line. The south extent of the Edward VI Citadel refered to is shown in green. A known tunnel leading to the Kings Mount flanker—it must have been known about then—is highlighted in red.   For more history on these features see an earlier blog post about the Lions House allotments.

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A Hole Lot of History

There was a recent query on Facebook/Forgotten Berwick about a large hole in the north face of the Elizabethan town walls.  The hole in the wall is an unfinished gateway.

The unfinished postern gate between Cumberland and Brass bastions.

The Elizabethan walls were, unlike their medieval predecessors, meticulously planned—geometry was everything.  They were designed, with, or despite the “help” from two Italian consultants who actually knew what they were doing.  The detail from the “architect’s plans”, dating to 1561 by Rowland Johnson the master mason, that Cumberland Bastion is halfway between Megs Mount and Brass Bastion.  The unfinished gateway is halfway between Cumberland and Brass despite being offset from the Wallace Green/Low Greens road to Edinburgh—that was doomed to be cut off.  Similarly, if you look closely by the crease in the map, there is a similar feature halfway between Megs and Cumberland.  They are intended to be small secondary gates (called posterns) that allowed troops to easily access the outside fields, here at the narrowest points of the ditch like at the Cow Port.  

Detail from Rowland Johnson’s 1561 map.

The 1561 map even shows a bridge outside a planned postern at the midway point between Windmill and Kings Mount.  There is no evidence of this or the one by Scotsgate having been built.  Indeed, by 1570, the defences were incomplete.  It is wrong to say they were finished in 1570; better that they just halted the project in 1570.

A scathing letter from Lord Hunsdon, the Governor at Berwick to Queen Elizabeth in 1568 reads:–

“Concerning Her Majesty’s new fortifications at Berwick, he must confess the main-wall is marvellous beautiful, but the town as it now remains is very weak and out of order.  It is weaker than before by reason that the bell-tower and the fortifications, which were very strong, are pulled down, the old wall ha˛s fallen down five places, and palle [wooden palisade] set up instead of wall, and the rampire of the old wall taken away.  The new work is in no order, either with rampire, gates, posterns or bridges.  Thinks the Queen has small pennyworths for so much money, and cannot tell why the Castle and other places were pulled down…”

And yet a look at two 18th century maps suggest the idea may have been revived.  In one, dated 1751, two dotted lines seem to indicate paths crossing the ditch at these points.  

Detail from the 1751 plan showing the two “pathways” (highlighted).

The other map, from a similar date, shows a more clearly defined access to new external ravelin defences.  (These were never realised; the Georgians made minor alterations along the riverside walls.)

Detail from the post-1745 plan showing a bridge to a ravelin (highlighted).

The bottom of the postern gate is elevated from the water-filled ditch which would have been crossed by a bridge, though probably narrower, to this English Heritage interpretation at Cow Gate (above) and the original 1719 plans upon which it is based (below).  This is what the Scotsgate would have looked like originally!

That wasn't the end of the story, however.  Some may remember when the vandals of the 1960s yet again revisited the idea of knocking a new gate through the walls near the Scotsgate to create a one-way system.  Thankfully, that never happened, but one can't help thinking sometimes that there might be some merit in completing Sir Richard Lee’s work by finishing the original gate near Wallace Green to act as another route through the walls.

Detail from 1960s plan for a part of a one-way system in Berwick.

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The Brewers Arms

A little while ago, when searching for old images of the Brown Bear on the excellent Facebook page, Forgotten Berwick, I came across this picture.

The interior of a pub, 1910s–1930s? Cracking image of a proud publican with his family and/or staff. But where?  Contributors to Forgotten Berwick were split. Some thought it was the Brown Bear; some thought it was the Brewers Arms.  Other suggestions were thrown into the ring.

The vital clue is the signs for Bernard Brewery, Edinburgh on the barrels behind the bar.  The only Bernards pub in Berwick was the Brewers Arms.  A lot of people knew that but thought the bar arrangement wrong.  I believe I now know the answer!  

Yes, it is the Brewers Arms, but not the Brewers Arms we know!  I believe the gentleman in the centre is Matthew N Kyle.  While researching the Brown Bear I came across an advert in a tourism guide book for 1927.  It will probably not be possible for you to check, but I’ve had a really good look and I reckon the three men here are the same as in the interior photo.  The little girl is there too!

Advert in tourist guide to Berwick, 1926.

It’s a completely different building.  That isn’t a surprise as such; I knew that a William Crow had it in 1822.  The real surprise was the date.  I always thought that the front of the Brewers looked like it dated 1890–1910.  But this is 1927!  So what happened?

Kyle took over the pub in 1922 and seems to have prospered.  His adverts are often quite large which must mean he could afford it.  

Advert for Christmas 1928.

In August 1927, the brewery requested planning permission from the Mayor and Town Council for permission to “...remove what might be termed an eye-sore and replace it with something in keeping with the dignity of the main street of the town.”  A new modernity was in the air following the First World War, and locally, the completion of the New Bridge.  Tenders from builders were requested from the architects Gray and Paterson of 2 Ivy Place (incidentally the same address that Robert Marshall gave on his plans of the Brown Bear).

Work must have taken place after Christmas, 1928 as there are no adverts until August 1929.  

Advert in Berwickshire News and General Advertiser 27th August 1929

Advert in Berwickshire News and General Advertiser 17th December 1929. Possibly the first published picture of the new look Brewers Arms.

Matthew Kyle then disappears from the newspapers after 1931.  Why this would be so, we cannot say.  Perhaps he retired, but if so he did so aged 46, which is no age, unless he was in ill health, as he died in 1942.

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Here’s an oddity I discovered in the 1927 Berwick-upon-Tweed Visitor’s Guide.  If anyone has any ideas about the word in the bottom left, please let me know. It seems to be SKAT[IM?].  Skat is a card game from Germany (where there is a big freemasonry following, and there are masonic sets of skat cards.  Skat is of early 19th century German origin and is derived from the 15th century game of Tarock (Tarot).  Tarock cards were originally nothing to do with the occult but merely used for gaming.  

I’m not entirely convinced though.  Why would you refer to Skat on a carving? And anyway, to my non-specialist eyes, I’d say the writing and coat the man is wearing looks earlier;18th century?  

However, “skat” means to cast aside (there are only 32 cards in the game) and so the inscription may be something to do with casting one’s former life aside for the obligations of Freemasonry.

The attitude of the man is odd.  He looks like he is leaning casually on the pillar. However, the pillar is no doubt a reference to the three pillars of masonic belief—wisdom, strength and beauty. Thus the image might be interpreted as man’s dependance on these tenets of the faith.  I’m sure people with far more knowledge will correct me.  Interesting stuff though.  

Sadly, I don’t know what became of it!

[berwicktimelines]

A Most Irregular Marriage!

Came across this snippet while researching the Old Hen and Chickens in Bridge Street.  To funny not to share!

This story went right across the country and to Ireland!

From the Newcastle Journal, 5th August 1843. (The incident occurred on the 3rd August.)

Marriage by declaration in front of two witnesses was legal in Scotland but in 1753 a law banned such irregular marriages in England. This led to couples crossing the Border to marry at places like Gretna Green, Coldstream, and Lamberton Toll. The marriages were carried out by “priests” who also provided witnesses. Lord Brougham’s Act (an Act for Amending the Law of Marriage in Scotland 1856) finally put paid to the practice.

For more on irregular marriages visit my friend Susie’s blog Border Ancestry.

[berwicktimelines]

Hi Jim, I live at Low Cocklaw about three miles west of Berwick over the A1 and am interested in the brick and tile works that operated across the way from the farm between around 1760 and 1860. I found some excellent info in Fuller's history which indicated at the end of the 18th C between 150,000 and 180,000 tiles a year here, and looking at the 1851 census there were still half a dozen tile makers living here. Do you know if there's any more info available on this business please?

Hi MarygateThanks for the question. Sorry its been a while since you wrote this.Piggot and Smith 1837 directory has Francis Forster as a brick maker at Cocklaw.  Whellan’s 1855 directory has William Laundreth at “Under”, presumably Low, Cocklaw.  Here’s some OS maps showing it. How long it was operating I don’t know as we cannot be sure the surveyors were being entirely accurate, but it would seem it was definitely defunct by 1898.

Section of OS map 1862

Section of OS map 1893

Section of OS map 1898

[berwicktimelines]

The Coaching Inns of Berwick

This was written originally as information for Roger Protz, the journalist, long-time editor of the Good Beer Guide and many books about beer and pubs.  He was visiting Berwick in December researching the Kings Arms for a new book about the coaching inns of the Great North Road (A1).  I was asked to give him some info about the Brown Bear but he didn’t know about the others in Berwick; the Red Lion, the King’s Arms and the Hen and Chickens.

The Red Lion

The first of these I can find any evidence of is the Red Lion situated in Marygate by modern Golden Square.  This first appears in notices in the Newcastle Courant in 1735 and was run by John Wilson.  It must have been a relatively substantial house and had assembly rooms for entertainment after events such as the Lamberton Races.  Bailey’s 1781 Directory lists the Red Lion as being a staging point for the Newcastle to Edinburgh diligence (a type of carriage).  

View of Marygate by Alexander Carse, from Dr John Fuller, History of Berwick (1799) The Red Lion is on the left behind the prominent building.

A notice in the Newcastle Courant in May 1784 advertised a new lease for the inn.  There may have been some financial problems as, “The Furniture and the Horses and Chaises-belonging lo the said Inn will be sold if the tenant thinks proper at a fair evaluation.”  It notes that, “This is the only Inn in Berwick that runs Post Chaises…” (A chaise was another type of carriage.)

A typical post-chaise seen in The Elected M.P. on His Way to the House of Commons” by James Pollard, (1817)

The Red Lion remained an important centre of Berwick life for many years, regularly hosting official events such as the Mayor’s Dinner at which Viscount Grey once gave a speech.  The Hotel was obviously held in high esteem and held for memories for many.  

Marygate, c.1890s with the Red Lion to the left.

The building was sold in February 1919 to Mr CB Ford who had run the A & B (Alnwick and Berwick) Garage on the corner of Hide Hill and Silver Street—the first in Berwick.  He took the advice of the Berwickshire News and General Advertiser, which had written, “The new proprietors might do worse than call the place “The Lion” Garage.”  The building and nearby slum quarters were demolished in October 1936 to make way for the new bus station which is, in a way, appropriate.  The actual building site was developed by FW Woolworth in 1937.

The Lion Garage, Marygate late 1920s.

The Kings Arms

The King’s Arms can be traced to 1772 when it was used by the brethren of St David’s Freemasons Lodge for meetings.  The first landlord I can find is Mr William Parker in 1785 when he hosts entrants and their horses for the Lamberton Races (held since 1606 at least).  The Historic England listing states that an old stable block dates to 1782, so it probably existed somewhat earlier.  Parker must have had ambitions but became bankrupt in 1789.  The inn must have prospered after his tenure as Berwick’s first theatre was built at the rear, in 1794, and operated by Stephen Kemble, the highly successful theatre manager and Shakespearean actor.  Another celebrated actor, George Frederick Cooke, performed there.  

Left:  Stephen Kemble (as a rather portly) Hamlet, 1794. Right:  George Frederick Cooke as Richard III, by Thomas Sully, 1811

Fire destroyed the theatre in 1845 and the present Assembly Rooms were built in their place.  It was here that Charles Dickens gave recitals in 1858 and 1861.  The KIng’s Arms Hotel did flourish and became Berwick’s premier coaching inn. It is now a Grade II listed building.

The Hen and Chickens 

Possibly the oldest of the three inns is the Hen and Chickens.  It can be traced to 1737 and Robert Johnson.  Until then, the building (or at least the site) had been occupied by tenements.  It, like the other pubs mentioned, had an interest in the Lamberton Races and had a large assembly room on the first floor.  

Notice from the Newcastle Courant, 1737. Pubs at this time were often known simply as “the [public] House of...”.  Later evidence associates Robert Johnson with the Hen and Chickens.

Not much is known about the pub: nothing of any great note seems to have happened there.  It closed in 2010.

The Hen and Chickens, late 1940s.