Ushaw Moor Memories

Less than a year after leaving secondary school I moved with my parents to live in Seaton, near Workington, Cumberland. I was destined to live there for seven years. The name Workington is not very inspirational – perhaps one notch above Grimethorpe - and for me it has a tone to match much of my experience there. Those seven years were meant to be character forming, memorable and fun mixed with a bit of teenage angst and uncertainty.  I experienced all of that but the positive aspects were in such pitifully small doses that they hardly compensated for the remaining big blocks of my time -which were filled with inertia and progressively mind dulling experiences.

I suppose I could have paraphrased the above by describing my time in Workington during the 60s as ‘mostly excreta’ [forgive my too rounded edges].  I did not have much going for me - what with a basically caring stepfather, whom by that time had a job that gave him little time to care, and an equally caring mother who had, with a degree of personal justification, despaired of life long before moving toWorkington.

I found myself living in an avenue about a hundred yards from a road that, by turning left, lead to Workington - which was about a mile away. We lived two doors from Keith Burkinshaw, who later became well known for his management of Tottenham Hotspur, and one door from Dave Carr the ex Darlington forward. They were both plying their trade for Workington Football Club.

My first job was a casual one working as an assist for Lipton’s Ltd in Workington – I was a sort of Granville character if you like. I recall that the hardest task at the shop was lifting and moving very big boxes of butter. I only had one serious lapse in concentration during my short period at the Lipton’s shop; on opening the large fridge I caused a tray of mixed meats to fall on the floor; understandably Mr Robinson the manager was not at all happy about that.

My next sally into the job market involved an interview at the National Coal Board Area Headquarters for the post of junior wages clerk. Three middle aged men earnestly questioned my suitability for the job and gave me an arithmetical test. They marked it there and then and told me that I had got one of the sums wrong. In my youthful enthusiasm I broke protocol my walking round to their side of the desk to look at their answer to my supposedly incorrect solution. I put them right! Whatever problems I had with my lack of impressive certified education the Harry Barlow influence came to the fore and I triumphed. The arithmetical test was followed by what appeared to me to be an innocent question: ‘have you any relatives working for the NCB?’ I replied that my grandfather was a colliery overman. Looking back it may well be that the family connection sealed the job offer.  I was fortunate enough to get a brilliant reference from Harry Barlow but the NCB went and lost it! It must have been a good one because one of the interviewers, without a trace of a smile, asked me whether I had written it.  

The job as a wages clerk was interesting for a while and every Thursday about three dozen wages clerks, including me, worked together to fill the wage packets for all those employees working at collieries in Cumbria: St Helens, Haig, Solway, Lowca and others. There was a simple knack to it but it had to be done quickly. If for example a worker’s wage was ₤ 18  6 shillings and  4 pence -  his or her packet was filled with the highest denomination of notes and coins possible – typically three five pound notes, a one pound note, two half crowns, a shilling, a three penny bit and a penny. The ten pound note had been withdrawn years earlier because of the war and fears of Nazi fraud; its reintroduction came as late as 1964. The notes had to be presented in such a way that they could all be seen in the window of the pay packet.

Periodically, on a Friday, it was my duty to pay the miners after their late shift at Solway Colliery; I used my Lambretta to get there and back. The only memorable incident occurred because one of the miners, obviously tired from his weekly work, had lost his pay ‘chitty’. I refused to pay him – after all he could have been anybody. He went away and brought his union representative to identify him - but as I did not recognize the union man and more importantly, the ‘chitty was still not presented, I still refused to pay out. I locked his wage in the safe and he collected it the following day from the Manager’s Clerk.  It was much ado about nothing but it sticks in my mind.

After a while I decided that I wanted to earn much more money and found that I could achieve that by working as the Weighman at Lowca Colliery. The trouble was that to achieve the increase in money I had to work double shifts – 6am to 6pm. I did it for a year and I would like to tell you more about it in part 2, which will also include my experience during a 5.20 am interview with the police during a murder enquiry, a description of my admiration for some of the workers at Lowca Colliery and an assessment of the causes of my despair in Workington.

Wilf Bell

Over recent years quite a few contributors to this site have explained why they think it is useful to look back. However having talked to others it is clear that some of them do not agree with chewing over past deeds and events. Overall a ‘live for today philosophy’ tends to prevail in our society - and it has something going for it. People adhering to such a philosophy are right to think that the past is dead, other than in the head. However to live in the present, in an intelligent and rounded way, we need some understanding of the past in order to make sense of some of our current experiences.

We do not need to understand the past to appreciate the intoxicating perfume of the Wall Flower, or the beauty of the setting Sun, but we do need some understanding of it to fully relate to our friends, acquaintances, and loved ones in the present.

One aspect of this excellent site – which makes me a little despondent - is the big 0, zero, comment of late for most articles. There was a time when comments arrived in good numbers – but not any more. I can understand that the early rush of several people’s articles, which mostly reflected direct experiences, would attract comment; it is just a little sad that because some of my recent articles have been historical perspective, or descriptions, they appear to be less attractive to readers - and therefore fail to bring comment in their wake. Surely the dreaded 0 is not always justified. What do you think?

Wilf Bell

Most of you will be aware of him. Perhaps you looked up at his monument [a big man on a big horse] as a child during the Durham Miners’ Gala – with a sense of awe and a little fright. I did. Perhaps you still look at the monument as you go by during your shopping in Durham City.

Of course the monument is in the Market Place, Durham City. It was commissioned by his wife, Lady Londonderry and unveiled on 02/12/1861. The monument almost didn’t end up in the Market Place. Seaham Harbour, Sunderland and Palace Green, Durham were alternatives that had received consideration. Certainly some businessmen were unhappy with its position. They felt that it prevented free passage to the markets and they were worried about a potential loss to business.

So what do we know about him? Some of you may well know quite a bit but for those who do not he was born in Dublin in 1788 and educated at Eton [hardly comparable to Ushaw Moor Secondary Modern in terms of prestige}. He showed great courage under fire when serving the Duke of Wellington. That surely demands respect. He married an Irish woman – Francis Ann Vane- Tempest; she was an heiress to large properties in both Durham and Ireland. As we know, people of that social position tended to consolidate their position by means of marriage.

Londonderry subsequently bought property in Durham including a Seaham Estate and several pits. What did the people of Durham think of him? He was regarded by many as being a ruthless colliery owner. I imagine that he might have put Chaytor [Ushaw Moor] and Cochrane [Sleetburn – I love to use that old name for New Brancepeth] in the shade for the reputation of being ruthless. He opposed trade unions and was regarded as someone who adopted a hostile position - if he did not his way in the world of pits. It is safe to assess that his reputation in Durham is mixed, shall we say, during a moment of generosity.

We have to be careful in assessing such people as events of the long gone past can be distorted by the passing of so much time. Some more research is needed!

Wilf Bell

It was Alexander Brodie Cochrane that obtained the right to mine for coal at Sleetburn although it was Lord Boyne of Brancepeth Castle who held the Royalties. Cochrane had his somewhat grand home, Eshwood Hall, built not far from what he hoped would be a very profitable colliery. He was part of an influential and financially successful family; they owned iron works at Ormesby and were socially ambitious. Actually it can be said that they were more or less ‘up and arrived’ rather than ‘up and coming’.

Sleetburn’s excellent coking coal supplied the Cochrane’s iron works at Ormesby. By the eve of the First World War the colliery had become a large complex, with brickworks and a plant to crush a valuable mineral called brytes.

The Cochrane approach to managing his workers and villagers had clearly been the product of some considerable thought. I imagine that he was mindful of the fact that a trawl through the Durham County newspapers of the time indicated a significant amount of lawlessness and violence in local mining communities - which to a large extent was fed by alcohol and despair. For some miners the alcohol temporarily brushed aside the big physical demands of coal mining. The despair may well have been caused, to some extent, by the sight of too many mangled or impaired bodies, the experience of periodical unemployment and the demand for deference.  Perhaps such a social climate encouraged Cochrane to build Sleetburn as two separate villages, one for pitmen called the ‘lowside’ and another for colliery officials and craftsmen. Fields separated the two classes of workers and in effect social control and sanctions prevailed. If one of his officials or craftsmen stepped out of line they risked being moved to the lowside – or even worse - sacked and blackballed.

We can all make a judgment about the arrangement of the village but of course we have the benefit of hindsight. Certainly the demand for deference was a feature of Victorian times and the Cochrane demand for it was not unusual. I think the demand that the doors to the houses be open, with heads bowed, when the Cochrane coach came down into the village is too much for me – I can visualize it and it smells of unnecessary humiliation. That coach came down Unthank Terrace where I was later to live! Henry Heath Cochrane was in charge by the time of the ‘keep your doors open demand’.

Much earlier in that century, after the war the battle of Waterloo, the Government and landed gentry were wary of an uprising in protest against acute social deprivation; after all governments were falling in Europe. It was, amongst other considerations, the soothing balm of religion and the 1832 Reform Act [giving the vote to many of the middle class] that played their part in calming the poor. Even the famous Chartists of the 1830s and 1840s were, it could be argued, thwarted by the good harvests that fed the poor and diluted justifiable protests.  So deference still carried on but only, I feel, because the poor allowed it to.

I posed myself the question: is it likely that the owner of Eshwood Hall would employ local servants? My guess was that he would not. After all the Cochrane’s would not be unaware of the risk of displaying their human failings [we all have them]  in front of servants who might gossip, or more likely let something slip, when they shopped or socialized in the village. That might weaken their imposed discipline of the villagers. I was sort of right. In 1901 Isabel Potter [19] was a housemaid domestic at the Hall. She was near, in modern terms, to being a local having been born in Penshaw. In those days a trip from Sleetburn to Penshaw was quite a journey!

Ellen Weatherson [17] was employed as a bedroom maid at Eshwood Hall and she was born in Elsdon, Northumberland. Her father was a shepherd living in Hexham with his wife Isabel and their children.

The parlour maid, Elizabeth Wood originally came from Northallerton. She had earlier worked as a housemaid for another of the Cochrane family, Alfred Cochrane – Ironmaster and JP who lived at Norton House, Coutham, Cleveland. As you can imagine Norton House was in a good area – an immediate neighbour was a bank manager and the other was a hotel proprietor.

The above indoor staff was managed by Maire A Thompson, a widow of 44 with the grand title of ‘Lady Manageress.’

Some of the outdoor staff employed at Eshwood Hall in 1901 included: Richard Middings [27], foreman gardener and born in Salop, Edward Foster [24] gardener born in Lumley, County Durham, Richard Stevenson [26] gardener, born in Tipperary and David Stevenson [16] born in Alstead, Yorkshire [brothers?}.

Eshwood Hall had some fun and games on the 23rd and 24th of September 1905 and also on December 21st 1906. On those days the water supply at Eshwood Hall failed!  That latter date must have induced some panic, with it coming near to Christmas. Now there’s a thought: Christmas at Eshwood Hall without water.

Wilf Bell

There was an Isabella Holliday [aged16] living in the Hill Top area near Ushaw Moor in 1901. She was in the household of Mr John Seed and Mrs Agnes Seed.
 
David Turner [aged 18 in 1901]was a coal miner [putter] living as a boarder in Mr and Mrs Walker’s household in South View.
 
John S Vasey [aged 25 in 1901] was a boarder at 7 Albert Street - in the household of Mr George Walker and Mrs Walker.
 
George Vasey and his wife Sarah lived at 8 South Street together with their daughters  Florence, Martha and Elizabeth.
 
I am sorry that I cannot help further.
 
Wilf Bell

Just when you think the memories site has died or gone into a coma up pops someone who is delighted to see a bit of information about a relative – that makes it all worthwhile and has brought me briefly back on to the site.

Mr Brian Conway is asking for any information about Thomas Conroy who is mentioned in the article published on 13/09/2007. According to the Census enumerator he lived at 13 East Terrace Ushaw Moor in 1901 with his wife Elizabeth and two daughters: Elizabeth who was eight years old at the time and Eliza who was one year old. Thomas was a Deputy at the pit and 40 years of age. The 1901 Census seems to suggest that he was born in Lanchester but there is a significant probability that there was a transcription error by the 1901 Census enumerator regarding his place of birth. I think that he was born in Wigan, Lancashire. I base that on the fact that there is a Thomas Conroy, aged 30, shown on the 1891 census as born in Wigan and living in Ushaw Moor as a boarder with a widow Matilda Pletts. Mrs Pletts was a retired cook so I am confident that Thomas Conroy was well fed during his stay with her! Within the 1891 household we also had Mrs Plett’s son, James [blacksmith] and two other boarders George Browning [stationary engineman aged 29] and Nicholas Ogg [aged 22 occupation - mason]. Regarding Mr Conroy I note that Lanchester and Lancashire are wide open to an error by a tired enumerator – no doubt they had a lot of work to do for very little financial reward!

I sometimes wonder at the work and handwriting of the Victorian enumerators – Ogg? Was it perhaps Hogg in reality? Plett? Possibly but I would not gamble against it being Platt!

There is a Thomas Conroy shown on the 1881 Census as a boarder living in Hunwick [Lane Ends] and employed as a miner. He was born in Lancashire. The potential problem with that is that he is shown as born in 1859 which is slightly out. Still one wonders.

Wilf Bell