Skulferatu #150 - Curry's Point, Whitley Bay, Tyne and Wear

While out walking along the coast from Whitley Bay heading towards Hartley, I came to a pleasant spot on the headland that looked out towards the causeway leading to St Mary’s Island and the lighthouse there.  This little promontory is known as Curry’s Point and is named after a rather gruesome landmark that once stood there – a gibbet, from which hung in chains, the rotting corpse of a man called Michael Curry.  Back in the good old days this sort of thing was seen as being a way to deter crime, get up to no good and you too could be executed and then hung up for all to see while the crows pecked the flesh from your bones.

 

 

Memorial to Michael Curry at Curry’s Point

 

 

Memorial plaque to Michael Curry

 

So, you may wonder who was Michael Curry and what was the crime he committed that merited this horrible treatment?  Well Michael, in his own words, was a ‘laborious, honest man’ who ‘had the grace to keep the Sabbath Day holy’, though he did admit to enjoying a drink and having a bit of a potty mouth.  Michael worked in a physically demanding job digging some of the numerous bell pits around the North East of England.  These pits were a way of mining coal from seams near the surface.  A shaft was sunk down to reach the coal, and as it was dug out and removed the pit formed a bell shape.  These bell pits tended to collapse after a while, so when they did another one would usually be dug nearby and mined until it too collapsed, and so on and so on…. This job probably meant that Michael would travel where the work took him and then take up lodgings nearby.

 

Sometime before December 1738, Michael took up lodgings in Hartley at the Three Horseshoes Inn, an establishment run by Robert Shevill and his wife Isabel.  Not long after arriving there, Michael and Isabel began a hot, steamy affair with Michael sneaking into Isabel’s bedroom while her husband Robert slept soundly in his.  This bonk fest didn’t go unnoticed for long though, as one night Robert woke to some strange noises and upon investigating found Michael naked in Isabel’s room.  Demanding an explanation, he was told by Michael that he had just been looking for a drink of water.  Robert pointed out that the water was downstairs, and Michael mumbled some apologies and left the room.  The next morning Robert, who had a deep suspicion of what had been going on between Michael and Isabel, demanded that Michael leave the Inn immediately.  And that is where it could have all ended, but it didn’t.  Isabel was having none of this and told Michael he could stay, and so he did.  It seems that Robert then just had to accept this, which suggests he was either frightened of his wife or Michael, or maybe even both.  Days went by and Michael was still at the Inn.  Robert became increasingly worried by this and when Michael’s father came to visit, Robert told him that he wanted his son to leave.  This appeared to have some effect, as shortly after the visit Michael left and presumably took up lodgings elsewhere.

 

All was well for a few days, but then on Thursday, 11 January 1739, Michael returned to the Inn for one last time.  The Three Horseshoes was locked up for the night and all were supposedly asleep in bed when someone unlocked the door and let Michael in.  Probably Isabel sneaking him in for a bit of rumpy pumpy.  Michael however was not in the mood for a bonk, he had murder on his mind and taking a razor from a cupboard he made his way up to Robert’s room.  There he woke him up with a few punches and kicks before slashing his throat with the razor.  Robert, bleeding heavily managed to escape and made his way to a neighbour’s house.  There, virtually unable to speak, he wrote on a piece of paper what had happened and who had attacked him.  Later that morning, Michael was found sleeping at his father’s home and blood-stained clothing belonging to him was found drying by the fire in the house.  He was then taken to the Three Horseshoes Inn where a bedbound Robert, who in the presence of all gathered there, pointed at Michael and declared that he had cut his throat.  Michael denied this but was carted away and locked up.  A few days later Robert died from his injuries.

 

In August 1739, the trial of Michael took place.  Originally Isabel had also been indicted for aiding and abetting Michael in the murder, but these charges were dropped before the trial began.  Michael was found guilty of the charge of murder and sentenced to be hanged at Newcastle with his body to be then taken and hung in chains near Hartley.  Shortly before his execution Michael admitted that he had indeed murdered Robert but said that Isabel played no part and had not helped or encouraged him in attacking her husband.  Whether this was true or he was just being a gentleman and getting her off the hook, who knows?

 

On Tuesday 4^th September 1739, Michael Curry was executed by the West Gate in Newcastle and was said to have ‘behaved well under his unhappy circumstances.’  His body was then cut down and transported to the coast by Hartley where it was hung in chains from a gibbet.  And just in case any of his friends or family were tempted to remove his corpse and give it a decent burial the local paper gave the following warning –

 

 

Newcastle Courant – Saturday 8^th September 1739

 

That then was the end of Michael Curry, but not the end of my wanderings.  Just across from Curry’s Point is the causeway that leads to St Mary’s Lighthouse, and that was where I headed off to next.

 

 

View from Curry’s Point to St Mary’s Lighthouse

 

 

Causeway to St Mary’s Lighthouse

 

 

St Mary’s Lighthouse

 

 

View of St Mary’s Lighthouse

 

I’ve always liked lighthouses and have harboured a fantasy of being a lighthouse keeper, even though I don’t think there is such a thing anymore.  And anyway, with my dodgy knees and dicky heart, the constant climb up and down the stairs would probably cripple or kill me.  Thankfully I managed the ascent up with no mishaps and was rewarded with a view out over the coast and the sea.

 

 

Stairwell up the lighthouse

 

 

Lighthouse lantern

 

St Mary’s Lighthouse was built in 1998 by the John Miller Company of Tynemouth and replaced an earlier lighthouse that had stood there.  Its light warned ships of the dangers of the nearby rocks right up until 1984 when it was decommissioned.

 

 

 360 view inside the Lantern Room of the Lighthouse

 

After taking in the views from the lighthouse and watching the colony of seals sunbathing on the rocks, I made my way back over the causeway.  Cutting back over Curry’s Point, I left the Skulferatu that had accompanied me on a small ledge on the memorial stone.

 

 

Skulferatu #150

 

 

Skulferatu #150 on ledge of memorial stone

 

 

Map showing location of Skulferatu #150

 

The coordinates for the location of the Skulferatu are -

 

Latitude 55.069467

Longitude -1.452236

 

what3words: meant.slower.drums

 

I used the following sources for information on Curry’s Point –

 

Newcastle Courant

Saturday 13^th January 1739

 

Newcastle Courant

Saturday 8^th September 1739

 

The Gallows Tree

Crime and Punishment in the Eighteenth Century

Northumberland and Berwick-upon-Tweed

Barry Redfern

2013

 

Tourist Info at St Mary’s Lighthouse

 

Skulferatu #149 - Sewer Lamps, Whitley Bay, Tyne and Wear

Arriving in Whitley Bay for a few days away, I made my way down to the sea front and the hotel I was staying in.  After booking in, having a quick cup of tea and spending a few minutes staring out from the window of my room at a rough and booming winter sea, I went for a wander.

 

Outside, I admired the large bronze sandcastles while the wind licked my face with salt and the waves crashed against the shore.  From the promenade railings Seagulls stared out forlornly to sea while a flock of starlings swirled in the sky like a little hyperactive cloud.  A hungry little cloud that every so often swept down to crowd around anyone who sat down on one of the benches or who stopped to look out to the sea.  Once in a while they got lucky and scraps of a sandwich or a burger bun were tossed to them and would bounce up between a hundred squawking hungry beaks before being downed in a crumble of crumbs.

 

 

Winter sea

 

 

Bronze sandcastles

 

Cutting up from the promenade and onto Marine Avenue I came to one of the objects I had been wanting to have a look at – an old iron, late Victorian lamppost.  Nothing that special you may think, just a rather ancient and ornate bit of street lighting, but there you would be wrong.  This was no ordinary lamppost, but rather an old sewer lamp. This, and the other two surviving sewer lamps in Whitley Bay are part of the sewer system from the days of old when raw sewage went straight out into the sea.  The days when after arriving at your seaside holiday destination you could pop to the toilet and empty your travel weary bowels in the evening, then go for a bracing swim in the sea in the morning and watch your turds float past you. Ah, those good old days when men were men and Typhoid was rife.

 

 

Sewer lamp on Marine Avenue

 

Heading down from this lamp I found the next of the three sewer lamps just off the Links, standing proud next to a large street sign.

 

 

Sewer lamp by the Links

 

A bit further along and I came to the last of the lamps by the Promenade where it stood with a great view out to sea.  These lamps were once part of a group of seventeen that stood in the Whitley Bay and Monkseaton areas.  These, and lamps like them, were designed by Joseph Webb in the 1890s as ‘sewer gas destructor lamps’ and at one time were installed all over England.  They were a vital part of the old sewer systems, which were poorly vented allowing the build-up of explosive gases such as methane.  However, these lamps didn’t just vent the sewer system, they also burned off the sewer gases.  They were lit from the local gas supply and had three mantles that created an intense heat within the hood of the lamp, this then drew off the gas from the sewer so that it was harmlessly burned away rather than building up.  Clever stuff.

 

 

Sewer lamp at the Promenade

 

Now the remaining lamps are redundant and really just not much more than street ornaments, historical curiosities and roosting places for starlings.

 

 

Starlings on the sewer lamp

 

 

A place to rest and watch the world go by

 

 

A murmuration of starlings

 

In the railings by the Promenade sewer lamp, I left a Skulferatu as a thousand hungry starlings gathered around and gabbled noisily at me. Then, just as quickly as they had gathered, they flew off and zoomed over and around an old man who had sat down on one of the nearby benches.

 

 

Skulferatu #149

 

 

Skulferatu #149 in the railings by the sewer lamp

 

 

Map showing location of Skulferatu #149

 

The coordinates for the location of the Skulferatu are –

 

Latitude 55.048014

Longitude -1.446351

 

what3words: nature.nature.feared

 

I used the following sources for information on the Sewer Lamps –

 

Historic England – Sewer Gas Lamp, Whitley Bay

 

 

 

 

Skulferatu #148 - Rosslyn Castle, Roslin, Midlothian

The majority of visitors who head off to Roslin do so to visit the world-famous Rosslyn Chapel. Much as I love the chapel, I tend to head there to bathe in the woodlands of Roslin Glen and usually head off into them by the ruins of Rosslyn Castle. So, walking down a path of orange and brown autumn leaves that crunched underfoot, I made my way to the high bridge leading into the ruins. The view over Roslin Glen from this bridge is spectacular and looking down from the low walls I always get a frisson of fear at the drop down below. It reminds me of when I was a small child and being taken to the theatre and sitting up high in the gods with the seats in a steep slant beneath me. I always had that fear that I would tumble over the seats and over the balcony and down, down, down into the stalls beneath. It is almost a comfortable fear where you know it won’t happen, but a little voice at the back of your brain tells you that it might.

 

 

Pathway leading to Rosslyn Castle

 

 

Bridge over to Rosslyn Castle

 

 

Bridge over to Rosslyn Castle

 

 

View from the bridge over Roslin Glen

 

Walking over the bridge and into the castle proper, there are some broken walls and the remains of a tower. Then, behind a hedge is a small house built into the remains of part of the castle. It is available for rent as a tourist cottage, and I’ve always quite fancied spending a few nights there with friends, soaking up the atmosphere and telling ghost stories.

 

 

Ruins of Rosslyn Castle

 

 

The castle house

 

 

Ruins of castle tower

 

Making my way to a doorway in one of the walls I came out on a small path that leads around the ruins and to the back of the tower.  After having a look around there, I made my way back through the castle ruins and down some steps that led into the glen. There, walking under the huge arch of the bridge I cut round to a part of the castle built into the cliffs of the hill upon which it stands. It is the best-preserved part of the building and work was carried out on it recently to repair it and enlarge the house above.

 

 

The castle bridge

 

 

The castle bridge

 

 

The castle range

 

 

The castle range

 

 

A window in the wall

 

Rosslyn Castle was built in the early 14^th Century and was the seat of the St Clairs, formerly the Princes and Earls of Orkney. Legend has it that in 1302, after fighting in various battles, Sir William St Clair (or Sinclair) returned home to a castle that stood near to where Rosslyn castle stands now. In his company was an English prisoner of high standing who Sir William hoped to ransom back to his family in England for a substantial sum of money. However, the two men soon found they enjoyed each other’s company and became firm friends. The captive man, who it would appear had some knowledge in castle building and defensive strategy, advised Sir William that his castle was not strong enough to hold off an attack and should be built on some steep rocks that stood nearby. Together they drew up plans and Sir William then had the castle built on the rocks where it now stands. There are no records of what happened to Sir William’s prisoner friend, but I like to think that he was set free and accompanied back to the border where he rode off back to his family. I’m sure that he and Willie carried on their friendship as pen pals with Willie sending him an occasional sketch to show the castle as it was built.

 

In the mid-15^th Century, the castle was occupied by the founder of Rosslyn Chapel, another Sir William Sinclair. At this time, it was said to be luxurious and a ‘palace’ where Sir William ‘kept a great court, and was royally served at his own table in vessels of gold and silver’ with the ‘halls and other apartments richly adorned with embroidered hangings.’

 

 

 Rosslyn Castle (Restored) Cradle of the St. Clair Lineage

 

 

Rosslyn Castle – based on sketches by Roland Wiilliam Saint-Clair

  

 

Rosslyn Castle – based on sketches by Roland Wiilliam Saint-Clair

 

The castle also contained a scriptorium, a library of manuscripts, and it is said that when in 1542 a fire broke out, the Lord of Roslin sent his Chaplain into the burning building to save the precious documents. The Chaplain managed to lower them out of a window in a basket with the flames licking at his backside, and only just managed to escape from the inferno himself.

 

 

Rosslyn Castle

 

This was not the only time that fire damaged the building, as in 1544 during the ‘Rough Wooing’ much of the castle was set ablaze by English troops under the orders of the Earl of Hertford. It was later rebuilt with a five-storey range built into the side of the rock on which it stood. And for a while all was relatively peaceful at the castle, that was until 1650 when Cromwell’s army, led by General Monk laid siege to it. They pounded it with artillery and ‘the destruction of the Castle was all but complete. Every part of it was battered down, except the "Modern House" which still stands. After its surrender, the Castle was spoiled of its valuables; everything was carried off that was worth removing…’  Then, a few decades later in 1688 an anti-Catholic mob attacked the nearby chapel and then made their way to the castle. There, they destroyed any books, furniture, and clothing that they thought looked ‘Popish and idolatrous.’    After this the castle was pretty much left alone, with the small house being the only part that remained inhabited.

 

 

 

 

Roslin Castle, Edinburghshire

 

 

Roslin Castle by J Greig

 

At its height, the castle must have been quite stunning with its various towers and ranges of buildings. These were all arranged around a courtyard with a high bridge leading over to the cliff on which it sits. Even now it makes spectacular ruin. A ruin that has inspired poets from Burns to Byron –

 

Oh, Roslin! time, war, flood, and fire,

Have made your glories star by star expire.

Chaos of ruins! who shall trace the void,

O ‘er the dim fragments cast a lunar light,

And say, ‘here was or is,’ where all is doubly night?

 

Alas! thy lofty castle! and alas

Thy trebly hundred triumphs! and the day

When Sinclair made the dagger’s edge surpass

The conqueror‘s sword, in bearing fame away. _Byron

 

Like any good, ruined castle, Rosslyn has a ghost story or two connected to it. Every so often, in the dark of the night, there is said to be the howl of a ghostly hound as it mourns for its long dead master. The story goes that during a battle nearby there was an English knight who by his side had a huge and vicious black hound. As he fought against the Scottish troops his dog bit and mauled all those who attacked him. The knight was eventually struck down and killed and the dog was so enraged by the death of its master that it tore chunks of flesh from the Scottish soldier who had slain him. Friends of the unfortunate man, who was getting seriously mauled by the dog, had to step in and kill it to get it off him. That night the ghost of the dog appeared in the castle howling and snarling, terrifying all who saw it. It made its way through the rooms and hallways of the castle until it found the man who had slain its master. Cornering him it snarled and lunged at the poor man, terrifying the wits out of him until, at daybreak, it disappeared. Friends of the man found him in a dreadful state, and he was taken to bed. There he lay in a fever throughout the day and just as darkness approached the howl of the hound was heard once more. At that the man died. Since then, the ghostly hound has never reappeared, but its howl can still be occasionally heard.

 

 

Roslin Castle – photo from ‘Ruined Castles of Midlothian’

 

There is also said to be another ghost, that of a knight in black armour and on horseback, who sometimes appears in Roslin Glen by the castle and at others on the bridge leading into it. Who he was, no-one knows, though some say he may have been one of the English knights slain at the Battle of Roslin.

 

And if that isn’t enough, there is also a legend of there being hidden treasure within the castle ruins. Seemingly, Lord Darnley, the rather pathetic husband of Mary Queen of Scots, hid a small fortune of gold and jewels somewhere within the castle before he met his explosive end. The legend then gets rather bizarre, as even though Darnley was a bit of a cad and all-round bad egg, there is apparently an angel of such ‘dazzling purity’ guarding the treasure that ‘no mortal eye could look upon her and live.’  Therefore, only someone who is blind can find the hidden fortune. There are some gigantic flaws in this tale though, as supposedly the angel has been seen to leave the castle and make her way to the chapel where she kneels by the altar and weeps. So, if you’re fully sighted and want to look for the treasure just wait until she heads up to the chapel, and also why are all the those who saw her make her way to the chapel not dead? Hmmmm…

 

 

Remains of the castle’s outer walls

 

 

Creeping roots

 

 

Ruins of castle tower

 

On my visit I didn’t see any ghosts or angels, though there was someone in the glen below the castle who was dressed up as a blue dragon. Why, I’m not sure, but they had a photographer and an entourage of young women around them, so they were maybe an influencer or a cult leader or something like that.

 

Before leaving Rosslyn Castle for a walk through the glen, I left the Skulferatu that had accompanied me in a gap in the crumbling cement of the tower.

 

 

Skulferatu #148

 

 

Skulferatu #148 in the crumbling cement of the castle tower

 

 

Skulferatu #148 in the crumbling cement of the castle tower

 

 

Map showing location of Skulferatu #148

 

The coordinates for the location of the Skulferatu are –

 

Latitude 55.852806

Longitude -3.160155

 

What3words: breezy.cube.overlooks

 

I used the following sources for information on Rosslyn Castle –

 

The Antiquarian Itinerary Comprising Specimens of Architecture, Monastic, Castellated, and Domestic; With Other Vestiges Of Antiquity In Great Britain. Accompanied With Descriptions, Vol II.

1816

 

Historical Tales of Roslin Castle, from the Invasion of Edward I of England, to the Death of Mary Queen of Scotland

James Jackson

1837

 

Ruined Castles of Midlothian

Their Position; Their Families; Their Ruins; And Their History

John Dickson

1894

 

The Saint-Clairs of the Isles; being a history of the sea-kings of Orkney and their Scottish successors of the surname of Sinclair.

Roland Wiilliam Saint-Clair

1898

 

Canmore - Roslin Castle