The Great Fire

The Great fire of Newcastle and Gateshead was a tragic and spectacular series of events starting on Friday 6 October 1854, in which a substantial amount of property in the two North East of England towns was destroyed in a series of fires and an explosion which killed 53 and injured hundreds.

The towns were linked by two bridges, built no more than 100 feet (30 m) apart. The older was a nine-arched stone bridge, built in 1771, the third to have been constructed on the site. Slightly upstream was Robert Stephenson's new High Level Bridge, completed five years previously in 1849, an ingenious double-decker design allowing railway traffic on the upper deck and road traffic on the lower.

At half past midnight on Friday 6 October 1854, the worsted mill belonging to Messers Wilson & Sons was discovered to be on fire; the cry was raised and immediately the streets crowded with people hurrying to the scene of the growing conflagration. The fire being confined to the upper stories of the building, efforts were made to salvage stock on lower floors; but the great quantities of oil in the premises, used to treat wool, added fuel to the fire and quickly curtailed the attempts. Despite the prompt attendance of the North British and Newcastle fire engines, within an hour the building was one mass of flame and within two the roof fell in and the building was a total wreck.

In the immediate neighbourhood of Wilson & Sons was a bond warehouse belonging to Bertrams which reached seven storeys. It was at the time used to store thousands of tons of sulphur, nitrate of soda, and other combustibles. The intense heat caused the sulphur to ignite, melt and stream in a burning blue flame liquidised state from the windows. The authorities, abandoning the mill, sought to save the warehouse, directing all their efforts on it, and were reinforced by the military with their fire engine. 

A small explosion warned the crowd that there was something more perilous than sulphur alone in the burning pile. A second slight explosion did not warn the firemen and surrounding crowds. A third passed unheeded even.

After a few minutes, the final explosion occurred. The vaults of the warehouse were burst open with a tremendous and terrific explosion, heard 20 miles (32 km) away. Vessels on the river lifted as if lashed by a sudden storm. The old bridge shook, and the new quivered. Massive walls were crumbled into heaps, houses tumbled into ruins. The venerable parish church, on the hill, was shattered to a wreck. Gravestones were broken and uplifted. The hands on the dial of its clock stood at ten minutes past three.

The force of the explosion was immense, and heavy debris was thrown as much as 3⁄4 mile (1.2 km) from the seat of the explosion. Huge granite blocks forming the tramway for carts outside the warehouse were flung over the church for two and three hundred yards into neighbouring streets and buildings. One is recorded as falling 400 yards (370 m) away through the roof of the Grey Horse pub. A stone of 20 stone (280 lb; 127 kg) weight damaged property in Oakwellgate. Large blocks of wood and stone were projected widely over Newcastle, reaching the west end of the quayside. The Courant newspaper office in Pilgrim Street was hit. A stone weighing 18.5 pounds (8.4 kg) fell through the roof of an opticians in Grey Street; when workmen discovered it in the morning it was still too hot to touch. A huge beam of timber, six feet long, was found on the roof of All Saint's Church. Another, ten feet in length and weighing 3 cwt (150 kg) landed on the Ridley Arms in Pilgrim Street; and others on the roof of a house in Moseley Street.

The reverberation of the explosion was heard at North Shields, 10 miles (16 km) distant, where residents thought the shock was an earthquake. Gas lights in a Jarrow paper mill were blown out. Light debris from the fire was scattered across 6 miles (10 km) of Gateshead and environs. Miners in Monkwearmouth colliery, the deepest in the country and 11 miles (18 km) away, heard the explosion and came to the surface, concerned as to the cause. 20 miles (30 km) westward at Hexham; 35 miles (56 km) north at Alnwick; and 40 miles (64 km) south at Hartlepool the explosion was heard distinctly; and for 20 nautical miles (37 km; 23 mi) out to sea. The light of the flames could be seen, reflected in the sky, 50 miles (80 km) away at Northallerton. And whilst the report of the explosion travelled so far, people on the scene were insensible of it. They describe themselves as having been lifted from their feet and dashed down, the violence completely stunning them; and when they awoke in a stupor they had only the dim idea of a rolling sound in their ears. The explosion crater was measured to have a depth of 40 feet (12 m), and a diameter of 50 feet (15 m).

The projectile power of the explosion scattered burning debris widely across Newcastle; and the blast peeled off roofs as if to receive this flaming rain. One hundred yards of street frontage—offices, shops and warehouses—were in a short time in flames, the conflagration running up the hill, Butcher Bank, to Pilgrim Street. A second conflagration, in a triangle bounded by Pilgrim Street, Butchers Bank and George's Stairs took hold. The entire combined strengths of the local fire brigades had been directed on the Gateshead properties and were, besides, buried beneath the rubble. So quickly did the fire move through the packed buildings that it was impossible to put out.

The scale of injury and loss of life was smaller than might be imagined from such an infernal night. Some 53 people were accounted as having died, including Alexander Dobson, the 26-year-old second son of the renowned Newcastle architect John Dobson; Charles Bertram, owner of the exploding warehouse; and William Davidson, scion of the mill-owning family. Figures for the injured are less reliable, but it is supposed that from 400-500 people were injured, some horribly, and many receiving treatment at the Gateshead Dispensary and the Newcastle Infirmary. At the latter hospital, the beds of the existing in-patients were given to the newly injured, and the existing in-patients—where able—tended the new charges in their beds, under the direction of the medical staff.

Two hundred families "of the poorer classes" were burned out of their houses; amongst which were several orphans and widows. Each was calculated to have lost, on average, £15 of property.