Since that time great changes have taken place on the Tyne. When wood
for firing became scarce and dear, and the forests of the South of
England were found inadequate to supply the increasing demand for fuel,
attention was turned to the rich stores of coal lying underground in the
neighbourhood of Newcastle and Durham. It then became an article of
increasing export, and “seacoal” fires gradually supplanted those of
wood. Hence an old writer described Newcastle as “the Eye of the North,
and the Hearth that warmeth the South parts of this kingdom with Fire.”
Fuel has become the staple product of the district, the quantity exported
increasing from year to year, until the coal raised from these northern
mines amounts to upwards of sixteen millions of tons a year, of which not
less than nine millions are annually conveyed away by sea.
Newcastle has in the mean time spread in all directions far beyond its
ancient boundaries. From a walled mediæval town of monks and merchants,
it has been converted into a busy centre of commerce and manufactures
inhabited by nearly 100,000 people. It is no longer a Border fortress—a
“shield and defence against the invasions and frequent insults of the
Scots,” as described in ancient charters—but a busy centre of peaceful
industry, and the outlet for a vast amount of steam-power, which is
exported in the form of coal to all parts of the world. Newcastle is in
many respects a town of singular and curious interest, especially in its
older parts, which are full of crooked lanes and narrow streets, wynds,
and chares, {4} formed by tall, antique houses, rising tier above tier
along the steep northern bank of the Tyne, as the similarly precipitous
streets of Gateshead crowd the opposite shore.
All over the coal region, which extends from the Coquet to the Tees,
about fifty miles from north to south, the surface of the soil exhibits
the signs of extensive underground workings. As you pass through the
country at night, the earth looks as if it were bursting with fire at
many points; the blaze of coke-ovens, iron-furnaces, and coal-heaps
reddening the sky to such a distance that the horizon seems to be a
glowing belt of fire.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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