“WHEN I was about nine or ten in the late 1940s,” says Clive Madgin, beginning a Durham story which takes in clay puffers and Old Vesty, “we would go to Nevilles Cross and head along Relly Peth, which led into dense woodland on a very steep slope.
“At the end of the trees there was a vast landslide about 60 yards across, dropping hundreds of feet down to the River Browney below.
“We used to creep onto it, frightened, clambering over rocks, mud, tree trunks and other debris. We were scared witless by constant rumours of an evil person – the older kids would shout ‘mind old Vesty doesn’t get yer!’ – but he never appeared.
“We sought patches of grey mud, which we took home where we'd make flat slabs out of which, by wetting the edges, we’d make a small box with a lid and some holes in the sides. They were about six or seven inches long.
Clive's drawing of a clay puffer
“We'd persuade our mothers to bake them hard in their ovens, and the more creative of us would paint coloured patterns on them.
“Then we went to the 'bog tree' – an ancient willow which had fallen into a bog, and although it still had live branches, the main trunk had become rotted into pale yellow wood, which we called 'touch wood' or just 'touchy'.
“We'd take some touchy home, pinch a few matches, put the touchy in the boxes and set fire to it. It just smouldered and you kept it going by puffing through the air holes – that’s why we called them ‘clay puffers’!
“We could keep them going for hours.
“Why, you may ask? We’d use them as hand warmers or a means to light a small fire, or we’d pinch a few potatoes to roast – delicious.”
Was this just a Durham thing, or did other areas with access to clay create hand warmers or puffers?
“I'd like to know is when did this landslide happen?” asks Clive. “Was anyone hurt? Was the river blocked? It must have been, because there'd be hundreds of tons of debris falling into it.
“Nowadays it's overgrown with new vegetation, although there is still a large groove in the ground, so you can see where it was.”
Clive’s childhood exploits were carried out to the west of Durham, where Relly Path led out from Neville’s Cross to an area on the banks of the Browney known as Relly (or Relley). There are still a mill and a farm down there bearing the name “Relly”, and when the railways swept through, Relly junction was a busy place.
“I am always intrigued by the early history of this area but there isn't a lot of information and much would have been obliterated by later industrial development,” says Durham historian, David Simpson. “There was a moated medieval site here and a medieval hospital but information is scant – it was destroyed by the development of Broompark Colliery near the railway line.
“The landslide Clive is referring to at the end of Relly Peth in the woodland is clearly marked on the late 19th Century Ordnance Survey map, but earlier maps don’t tell us much.”
The maps do show that the curves of the Browney at Relly were once heavily quarried. Apparently, stone for the cathedral and castle came from here.
On the north bank of the Browney, on the road – called Tollhouse Road – to Bearpark, there was a pub called the Pot and Glass, which suggests Clive wasn’t the only person shaping clay in this area. In 1938, the licence from the Pot and Glass was transferred to the new Pot and Glass on the A167 in Neville’s Cross. It, though, has recently become a Sainsbury’s.
The Pot and Glass on Tollhouse Road closed in 1938 and was demolished in 1950. The name of the last landord, Alfred Southern, can be seen above the door. Picture courtesy of Michael Richardson's Gilesgate Archive
The woodland in this area is called Baxter Woods. “This name goes back to medieval times,” says David, “and it refers to bake-stones used in ovens – there were flat stones in the riverbed suitable for use in baking bread.”
And then, thrown into the mix, we have a complex railway junction. In fact, there are three junctions at Relly – Baxterwood Junction No 1, Baxterwood Junction No 2 and Relly Mill Junction – and then a little to the south there’s the Deerness Valley Junction.
The first railway to pass through this area was the 1857 Bishop Auckland to Durham line, that came out of Bishop over the splendid 11 Arches viaduct and entered Durham over an even more splendid 11 arched viaduct, both built by the North Eastern Railway’s engineer, Thomas Harrison.
An amazing picture, perhaps from 1856 and showing the North Eastern Railway chief engineer Thomas Harrison standing beneath his newly opened 11 arched viaduct at Bishop Auckland, that took the railway to Durham via Relly Mill. In the background is the 14th Century Newton Cap road bridge
In 1858, Darlington’s Pease family ensured that the eight mile Deerness Valley Railway was opened, running south west from Relly to serve their collieries around Waterhouse. It seems there was a confusion over the name of the river, and so the line was called the Dearness Valley Railway, and its junction was controlled by the Dearness Valley signalbox.
In 1862, the Lanchester Valley Railway was built to run north west from Relly to serve collieries up to Consett.
And finally, in 1865, the North Eastern built a line from Tursdale, near Ferryhill, to Relly which became the East Coast Main Line.
So, at Relly, where all these lines gracefully arc, and kiss and caress each other, the series of junctions was created, and until the 1950s, it was a busy place.
Now the Bishop Auckland and Lanchester Valley lines have been turned into a cyclepath, and the Deerness Valley Walk occupies another trackbed, but the mainline still arrives at Relly Mill from Ferryhill and enters Durham over Thomas Harrison’s splendid 1856 viaduct, which provides stunning views of the cathedral and castle.
The confusion of railway lines at Relly, to the west of Durham, beneath the Deerness Valley Junction signalbox. We think this train may be heading to Bishop Auckland, but we could be wrong
A passenger train waits beneath the Deerness Valley Junction box
We think this is a trainload of coal coming out of Broompark Colliery onto the Deerness Valley line
A LITTLE to the south of the Relly railway junctions, the River Deerness passes under Langley Bridge and joins the River Browney.
“As you approach the confluence,” says Clive, “there's a very worn, old stone wall, and on one stone there's an inscription chiselled on the top in the cursive style used in the 1930s and 1940s.
“It reads 'ELL', and perhaps once there may have been more (above).
“My parents told me it was the initials of a girl who drowned in the river. Is there any record of this event? When did it happen and who was the unfortunate soul who perished?”
Unfortunately, neither David Simpson nor Echo Memories can say what the ‘ell is written on the stone, although David adds: “It is near Holliday Park, which has nothing to do with caravans – Holliday was a manager of the North Brancepeth Colliery and he lived in a house near the meeting of the waters that was called Langley Grove.”
So if you can do better and tell us anything about the riverbanks at Relly or the carved stone near the meeting of the waters, we’d love to hear from you. And if you can help us with our captions on the railway pictures, we’d be grateful. Please email chris.lloyd@nne.co.uk
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