Mutiny in the Barney hotel

They were in town for their annual training, which many looked on as a holiday. But the 20 were less than happy when they saw their quarters. The conditions were so bad that they protested loudly, and their anger led to two charges being brought under the Mutiny Act.

John Myers, landlord of the Railway Hotel, on The Bank, had agreed to take in the men at the usual rate of fourpence per head per night – a total of just over £4 for the fortnight.

That was for just a bed apiece, as they were given all meals at their camp site.

But his beds made sleep impossible.

They were made of uneven boards, and the filthy mattresses were only partly filled with chaff. The men’s complaints resulted in an officer making an inspection, and he decided the billet was the worst he had seen in 16 years.

Dr Munro, the militia surgeon, ordered the landlord to repair the beds, fill the mattresses with more chaff and give each man a blanket. But Myers made no changes, so he was charged under the Mutiny Act with refusing to provide adequate accommodation for troops and failing to supply them with proper beds.

When he appeared in court he claimed the bedding was in good order until the troops moved in. But the magistrates went to the hotel, declared it totally unfit, and said pauper vagrants were given better quarters in the workhouse.

They fined Myers £5 and ordered him to put things right within two days. He did nothing so was called before the court again. This time his wife turned up in his place and claimed the soldiers had been drunk and caused damage.

But another £5 fine was imposed.

A man from the brewery that owned the hotel also appeared in court and was told the place must be put in good shape “before this day’s sun has gone down”.

He hurried off to get workmen to do speedy repairs, and when the troops turned up from training that night they had comfortable beds in which to get a good night’s sleep. For a long time after that, anyone who had an uncomfortable night in any dale hostelry was apt to ask: “Where did you get that bed – from the Railway Hotel?”

Despite the low fees paid, a lot of hard-up folk were pleased to take in a militiaman for the two weeks. Children were moved out of their beds and had to sleep on the floor so a soldier could move in.

The Railway Hotel as it looked at the time of its trouble with militia troops

A family’s reward for the fortnight would be four shillings and eightpence, equivalent to about 28p in today’s coinage. The Railway Hotel is now called the Old Well, offering high quality accommodation and food – with no risk of a mutiny.

FOLLOWING widespread storm damage lately, it is interesting to look back on the devastation in the dales after the worst floods in living memory in the spring of 1881. Two men were drowned in the River Tees when Thorngate footbridge in Barnard Castle was washed away as they stood on it.

Hundreds witnessed the tragedy as the pair – watchmaker William Thwaites, 39, and gamekeeper Richard Gargate, 58 – were hurled into the water. Others watched from the safety of higher ground as the metal structure was battered by fast-flowing debris until it cracked.

The lower part of Bishop Auckland was overwhelmed as the River Wear spilled over, and the rear walls of two houses in Jock’s Row fell with a loud crash, shortly after the occupants left. Many other people were injured as the torrent gushed along roads and into houses, and a lot had narrow escapes.

Crowds watched from upper levels as the swollen Wear raged through Stanhope.

A pier of the railway bridge there was swept away and the remainder collapsed.

The structure carried a gas main, so the town was left in darkness. Train services were halted in both dales as workmen struggled to mend bridges and remove trees and debris from tracks.

More than 1,000 men were put out of jobs in Weardale due to mines, quarries and other workplaces being flooded.

Shittlehope Burn bridge was demolished, Page Bank colliery was flooded and water poured through the miners’ homes. Those who were lucky managed to get belongings upstairs just in time. Witton Park ironworks came to a standstill as machinery was submerged. Old Etherley collieries were flooded and more than 200 miners were unable to work.

More than 300 sheep were carried away as the banks of both rivers were broken in many places and the torrent swamped fields. Harry Allison’s mill race near Mickleton was choked by debris, and an acre of nearby land was stripped of all earth and vegetation.

Thousands of tons of earth was forced away from a bankside downstream of Mickleton, making a major landslide seem likely. Farmer John Coatsworth had 50 loads of turnips swept from his land at Leekworth, Middleton.

Valuable specimens of all kinds of tree were uprooted on Timothy Hutchinson’s land at Eggleston Hall. He previously vowed he would never fell or sell any of his trees, but many were ruined and had to be removed.

Many other small bridges at the top end of Weardale and Teesdale gave way. The Byers Green ferryboat house was cut off and the family spent an anxious night in it. Damage in the two dales ran into many thousands of pounds, which would be equal to umpteen millions today. There was also damage further down in Coniscliffe and the outskirts of Darlington, as well as at Croft and Yarm. It started with snow melting in the hills, followed by hours of heavy rain.

MANY thousands of people must have enjoyed stirring performances by the Weardale Brass Band at fetes, shows, concerts and galas over the decades.

It was formed in about 1850 and provided entertainment all over the dales. There were usually lead miners, quarrymen and other tradesmen in the ranks.

They devoted a lot of their spare time to learning to play and then rehearsing regularly.

It was an era in which there was a strong tradition of high class brass band music in the dales and many villages had their own band.

The Weardale one folded between the two world wars, but the instruments were rescued by Ernest Milner, of Westgate, who later became a leading light in the National Farmers’ Union. He resurrected the band, which had a new base in Westgate. Our photograph of the line-up was taken outside the village’s rectory in the late 1930s. Thanks go to Peter Nattrass, who supplied it from his large collection. He received it from Kathy Milner, whose husband, Mansell, is one of the players, and later helped to found a junior band.

The musicians had just acquired their uniforms, and were proud to be wearing them for the picture. In the back row, from left, are Harold Peart, Thomas Stephenson, Michael Underwood, Jack Hunt, John Bostock, Raymond Gowland, Mansell Milner, Wilf Robertson, Willy Fairless and Harold Nattrass.

Harold, who played cornet, was Peter Nattrass’ father. He joined the band at the age of 13 or 14 and stayed until it was wound up for the first time. In the middle row are: Unknown, Laurie Walton, Unknown, Earnest Milner, Joe Watt, Unknown, Willie Morley and Leslie Gowland. The men in front are: John Moffatt Dalkin, Unknown, Maurice Robinson, Jack Woodhall of Stanhope, Foster Wall, Leslie Gowland and Norrie Johnson.

The young ones on the front wings are the Pearts, but their first names have been forgotten.

The pair were too young to have uniforms, which were supplied to players once they had stopped growing. The band played mostly in its own dale, but also travelled outside to various places including Redcar.

This photograph of the Weardale Band in its new uniforms was taken outside Westgate vicarage in the late 1930s

It also played annually at Durham Miners Gala for collieries which didn’t have their own musicians. The men were given transport and a few noggins of beer for their efforts.

But their band finally closed down in the 1950s. Before that some of the players also sat in with other line-ups, including the Stanhope Silver Band, and took part in competitions with it. One of those was at Crystal Palace in London, when a trophy was won.

• Mr Nattrass will be pleased to hear from anyone who can identify the “unknown” men in the photograph.