Ushaw Moor Memories

Florence Nightingale Number1

The younger Florence, aged 9 and born in Waterhouses, was part of the Nightingale family that occupied both 2 and 3 West Street Ushaw Moor.

Her father was John Nightingale a 42 year old colliery Undermanager; born in Northumberland he had gained his manager’s certificate on 26/02/1893. His managerial experience included overseeing the ‘Busty’ which would be abandoned 43 years later – well after his involvement!

Florence’s mother was 35 year old Sarah who was born in St. John’s Chapel in Durham.

Florence had a lot of siblings: Alice [born in Waterhouses], Edith [b Esh], James W [b Waterhouses], Margaret [b Ushaw Moor], Mary J [b Waterhouses] and Phillis [bWaterhouses].  

One of Florence’s grandfathers was called James Nightingale; he had been born in 1822 at Chilton, County Durham, spent part of his life as a gardener and was married to Phillis who was born in 1820.

Two of the Nightingale’s immediate neighbours back in 1901 were John Herron – a stationary Engineman and Billy Thompson – a colliery engineman.

FLORENCE NO 2

The other Florence Nightingale was born in Tow Law in 1890, lived in South View, Ushaw Moor with her 53 year old dad [he was born in Northumberland and by this time worked at Ushaw Moor Colliery].

Florence had two elder brothers – Thomas [17] and John J [20]. They were both born in Tow Law and both worked at Ushaw Moor Colliery.

Florence had two sisters - Ethel [15 and born in Tow Law] and Hannah [20 – born Waterhouses].

We can surmise that this family was not in absolute dire poverty - bearing in mind the size of it and the number of workers.

Their immediate neighbours were:

 [1] Mr John Stobart aged 41 – he was married to Mary – aged 41; they had a daughter – Jane aged 12 and

 [2] Tommy Walker 42 [coal hewer Ushaw Moor] and his wife Ann [42]. They had four sons –Joseph 22 [ putter/hewer Ushaw Moor], Thomas 18, [putter/coal hewer at Ushaw Moor]], Solomon, 15 [bank lad] and John aged 4.

Tommy and Ann also had two daughters Sarah [9] and Florence [2]. So of the eight people living in the house we can see that four of them were in paid employment. Ann Walker would have been very busy looking after them especially bearing in mind the various coal mining shifts and that John was only 4 – I wonder whether Mrs Walker got much sleep.

All of the adult Ushaw Moor males mentioned above would know James Curry because he was the Rapper Man; his job was to get them to wake up and work! He lived at 6 William Street which incidentally was only three doors away from the Trotter family; one of whom was a three months old infant that, I believe, would go on to be the school teacher that some people can still remember. I believe he was the Trotter that, at least once, infuriated my grandfather on the cricket field!

Wilf Bell

Having previously given a brief mention to an Ushaw Moor girl, Sarah Ellen McGurk, in an earlier article I recently found myself sitting next to her daughter, Mrs Margaret Parks, at a University of the Third Age social history meeting about 265 miles south of Ushaw Moor! Margaret gave me the go ahead to write some brief notes about her family - as follows:

Sarah Ellen McGurk was born in Lanchester on 18th October 1900 and shortly afterwards lived at 10 South Street, Ushaw Moor, with her parents John and Margaret.

Her dad was born in Durham and worked as a local colliery coke drawer. Essentially he removed coke from the coke-oven by means of a tool that resembled a long handled shovel.

Sarah had a brother called Edward [seven years older than her] and a brother called Michael who was four years older. Michael, who was only about 5ft tall at the time and worked at the colliery as a pit pony boy. One day at the colliery his pony would not proceed any further – it then jumped and reared; as a result Michael’s leg was broken and he walked with a limp for the rest of his life. Much later he went to live with his niece Margaret Parks [see first paragraph] in Tottenham, North London. Margaret remembers him because of the amount of snuff he used!

Sarah had a sister, Mary Ann, as well as the brothers mentioned in the preceding paragraph. Mary Ann is not mentioned in the 1901 census so it is likely that she was born a little later - although it is just possible that she was staying at an address other than 9 South Street at the time of the Census.

It is known that Sarah’s mother, who was born in Bishop Auckland, used to bake cakes and hold coffee mornings to raise money to go towards the building of the Ushaw Moor Catholic School.

When Sarah left school she spent sometime working at the Ushaw College laundry.

Sarah died on 19/02/1972.

Now for some further notes supplied by Margaret Parks that might mean something to residents or ex residents of Ushaw Moor:

“The Griffin family included cousins of my mother Sarah Ellen McGurk.

The Keenan family [nee McNab] looked after the McGurk youngsters when their mother died. The Keenans settled in Brandon at 19 Commercial Street.

There were also relations living at New Brancepeth’’.

I will finish with a bit of information about the McGurk’s immediate neighbours in South Street during 1901:

9 South Street - Mr George Young [blacksmith] and his wife Mary. Their daughter Amy worked as a barmaid.

11 South Street – Mr Michael Collingwood [aged 24] coal miner and preacher born in Byers Green. Also his wife Hannah [aged 25] born at the Boyne [I suppose Langley Moor!]

Wilf Bell

Florence was a very popular name in Victorian times and there were lots of them in Sleetburn. Examples of the surnames of some of them, which might trigger memories, are as follows:

 

Beattie  living at 31 Harvey St. [Parents Isaac and Hannah]

Brown                Colliery View  [James and Elizabeth Jane]

Brownlow   [both mother and daughter called Florence] - Planting Row

Calvert                33 Harvey St. [William and Isabella]

Dixon                  15 Jubilee St.  [Joseph and Isabella]

Eggleston            48 Eshwood St. [Augustus and Mary Ann]

Wilf Bell

I managed to wake up[4.45 am] in time to make my way to Lowca Colliery for a 6am start in my new job as weighman. It turned out to be an incredibly monotonous job. I was required to keep a paper record of the weight of all the individual coal tubs that past by my little cabin, by reference to a big scale, and then total them for submission to the Colliery Manager’s Clerk. I did that for twelve hours a day, five days a week [excluding breaks for lunch]. The money was good but the job was way beneath the potential of any human being. I respected a man called Pat – he had lost the sight of one eye, probably in a mining accident.  Part of his job was to ensure that the coal tubs, which were freshly drawn from underground, got to me from the pit top without coming off the rails - and he did it in a very vigorous and efficient manner.  I remember another strongly built lad who appeared quite fresh in the morning but always took on a gaunt and haunted look by late afternoon. I sometimes spotted him in the street after work; with the benefit of a shower and smart clean clothing he looked almost a different person. Even in 1964 ‘screen lasses’ were employed at the pit to extract metals and stone from coal. They got tired and dirty but again I admired the fact that they put so much effort in for such low wages.

On the 7th of April 1964 I got out of bed at 4.45 am - Groundhog Day – I guess that you have seen the film - and eventually got to the bus stop to wait for the Lowca Colliery works bus. Two policemen approached me and one of them said to me “good morning sir, may I ask you what you are doing at a bus stop at quarter past five in the morning?” I replied that I was waiting for a bus. He expressed surprise and said ‘waiting for a bus – at this time – what is the number of the bus sir?” I explained that being a works bus, with Lowca Colliery as its destination, it did not have a number. He looked at his colleague – thanked me – and they both walked on. When I got home I told my mother about the incident and she replied that a man, John Alan West, had been brutally murdered, in his home, at about 4am. His house was not much more than thirty yards from the bus stop I used to wait for the bus. What had happened was that Peter Anthony Allen and his wife, together with their lodger Gwynne Owen Evans, had travelled from Preston to Seaton that morning. While Mrs Allen stayed in the car [thinking that the men were seeking a loan from Mr West] they went into his house and stabbed and battered him to death.  They stole two bank books and a watch. Evans left his raincoat behind and within it was a medallion - which was inscribed with his name!  Needless to say they were soon arrested and charged with Capital murder. They pleaded not guilty but the jury took only three hours to find them both guilty. They were hanged a few months later. It is notable that no further judicial hangings have taken place in the United Kingdom.  So I had been interviewed in a murder enquiry!

I have already hinted that my first few years in Workington were miserable.  I have often lambasted Workington whereas it would be a fair generalization to say that its people were hard working and honourable. As you know Workington is near the magnificent lakes so it was a missed opportunity. I was rudderless, clueless, unimaginative and going nowhere fast. I cannot recall receiving any advice from anyone about how to grow up and I seemed unable to fall back on a role model or rewarding education to help me think it through. The education I received at Ushaw Moor, County and Secondary Modern, was third rate – and I was one of the lucky ones in the A form! I am sure that many of the A formers could have done well in the GCE and enjoyed the employment opportunities and further education possibilities that came with it. I reckon that many of them would have done better than the bottom quarter of the grammar school pupils and gone on to better things – on reflection several of them did, sooner or later.Of course I was a teenager during this period: there comes a time when the moaning had to stop and the child has to make his/her way as an adult without blaming others. The likes of Lorna Bone, Edith Smith, Arthur Snaith and several others did very well in making sense of life and carving something out for themselves and their families.

I remember one Saturday night, when I was about 16, standing outside the Princess Hall in Workington after attending a dance. Most of the people at the dance seemed to be between 18 and 25 and were knocking the drink back and inhaling the tobacco like it was going out of fashion – In trying to relate to that world I might as well have been on the Moon without oxygen.  As I stood there I can recall that it was pouring down; the next thing I did was close my eyes and prayed for instant transportation back to Ushaw Moor .That was perhaps the ultimate sign of desperation, on several levels. On opening my eyes I was of course outside the Princess Hall in the rain and not caring how wet I got. On one occasion I remember making a date with some Cumbrian girl but I did not bother to turn up. My emotional intelligence had hit rock bottom and it would get worse before it got better – but it did get better eventually.

In the weeks ahead I began looking for a youth club – there must have been some but my search was haphazard. I did manage to find a Toc H but that did not help! You may know that Toc H is a Christian Service Club that is committed to building a fairer society - very laudable but not a youth club!

One rainy day, on my way back from work, I forgot to change gear going around a corner and was left with two stark choices: hit a car parked on the opposite side of the road, or hit the wall to its right. I chose the wall and fortunately it was my Lambretta that got damaged rather than me or the car.

Circumstances began to improve thanks to my befriending of some grand lads and the beginning of my support for Workington Football Club. That club came close to Derby County in my affections but of course it never quite achieved that. I remember Keith Burkinshaw stopping to give me a lift to the ground on match day and offering me a free ticket to get in. I thanked Keith, expressed my hope that he had a good game, and then said that I would pay to get in because of Workington FC’s financial problems!

I still had my copy of Lady Chatterley’s Lover – I had bought that a few years earlier. The shop assistant gave it to me in a plain brown bag. Sadly I did not find D H Lawrence to be very good or particularly helpful! Mind you the celebrated Thomas Hardy sent me to sleep as well. It was the time of films based upon social commentary and deprivation like “Saturday Night and Sunday Morning”. I also remember the film “A Kind Of Loving”. There is little doubt that I was a self obsessed teenager struggling to be an adult; although I was far from alone with that - others have clearly coped with it so much better.

Now you might think that the article is self indulgent – Wilfie writing about himself again. Yes there is a bit of that but the overriding purpose is to keep the articles flowing to Paul. I am hoping that I have kept the site warm while some keen contributors are incubating! Come on lads and lasses your incubation is just about over - let’s have an article. I am impressed with the trickle of photos that have made it to the site. Thank you very much for sight of them and thank you Paul for the existence of the site.

Wilf Bell

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