Eileen Remembered, 2022

Visit to Newcastle: March 27 -29th 2022

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Members of the Orwell Society, led by Richard Blair and marshalled by Quentin Kopp (or was it Liz?) descended on the Premier Inn on the Tyne quayside on Friday 27th in dazzling sunshine. For some there was business to be done. For others, like us, there was a city to explore, or at least that part of it that hugged the river. ‘Business’ consisted of a trip on the metro to visit St Wilfrid’s RC College in South Shields by Richard, Quentin and Liz, Ann and Zigurds Kronbergs (Society Education Trustee and Treasurer) and Sylvia Topp and her daughter Samara. Sylvia, of course, is the author of Eileen, The Making of George Orwell, which firmly establishes Eileen as a formidable influence in Orwell’s writing. St. Wilfrid’s was the second school to win a Teacher Bursary and the visitors came away with no doubt that, as in Wigan, the bursary had been put to optimal use by the teacher – Jane Wild in this case. Not only did her pupils acquire an understanding of Orwell and his work but they were inspired to explore the history of their local communities and of their own families. Just like Wigan. In both schools the students’ enthusiasm shone through.

As in Wigan (again) students presented some of their own work to the visitors, in this case it was by reading their own poetry, to be published on the Society’s website in due course. Two of the senior students had taken the trouble to create a study guide for their younger students. An unexpected bonus came when, at the end of the visit, one of the students offered Richard an excellent pencil drawing of Eileen which she had made during the presentations. The evening ended with a lively Q and A session. Incidentally, the two teachers, Jane Wild and Danielle Rowlands from St. Mark’s Primary School in Wigan, will be making presentations to the AGM on May 7 and will participate in the selection panel for this year’s competition.

Business completed some of the party, along with some hangers on (like us) repaired to an excellent nearby pub/restaurant, The Broad Chare, for an equally excellent meal and for some, some explosive Belgian beer. (Since you ask, chare is a northeastern dialect word for alley.)

Saturday 28th

Does the sun always shine in Newcastle? It’s certainly at it again today. This morning was free and most people chose to explore the impressive Victorian and Georgian city centre. We chose to visit St. Nicholas’ Cathedral, which we would strongly recommend. There’s an informative film shown telling the Cathedral’s story. Apparently in the English Civil War Newcastle was for the King and Cromwell, more than a little narked, had asked the Scots to take the city. A lengthy siege brought no joy to the Scots, so their commander informed the Mayor that if the city didn’t surrender the Cathedral would be shelled to bits. Shades of Mariupol, we thought. So the governor sent his men to seize as many of the resident Scottish community as they could and imprison them in the Cathedral. No shelling! Eventually however the city was forced to surrender. We later came upon this magnificent piece of Edwardian architecture built in 1906,the Central Arcade.

The afternoon was spent on more serious but equally enjoyable business. We took the Metro to South Shields at 2pm to visit The Word, South Shields’ state-of-the-art cultural venue. A word, first’ about the Metro for those who don’t know it. It really is a most impressive system which connects most of Tyneside, including the airport. I noticed for example that you could travel all the way from Newcastle to the Stadium of Light, home of Sunderland FC. I mentioned this to Gary Wilkinson, our local guide. He fixed me with the hardest of stares. “Aye, so you can, though I canna think of a single reason why anyone in their right mind would want to go to the Stadium of Light.” Enough said.

The Word occupies an imposing position on the edge of a market square with the Tyne behind it. It runs innovative activities aimed at raising community consciousness. For example shortly after our visit a season of Northern Conversations was being organised, with a six-month programme of events and exhibitions to explore Northern identities through conversation. How appropriate than that the purpose of our visit was to publicise the contribution to British cultural and political history of a daughter of South Shields, Eileen Blair herself. Sylvia was to talk and answer questions about her biography. This event was organised jointly by the Orwell Society, The Word and the South Tyneside Council, which owns The Word, and there were no empty seats in the hall. Amongst the audience was the local MP, Emma Lewell-Buck, who has held the South Shields seat since 2013. Amongst no doubt many attributes Emma happens to be a direct descendant of the inventor of the lifeboat! The meeting eventually began, when Quentin had mastered the recalcitrant technicalities, with Gary Wilkinson’s evocative film about Eileen entitled Wildflower and this was followed by Sylvia’s talk about her research. Then came a fruitful and wide-ranging question and answer session. Then Tom Kelly, Jarrow born, recited his wistful and moving tribute to Eileen, the poem “You, You, You” before rounding off the afternoon by interviewing Richard about his childhood and his parents, especially of course his mother.

Meeting over we were taken on a local tour by Gary who showed us both the riverside Customs House and its high-street predecessor, which later transmogrified into a bank, where Eileen’s father had worked, and finally the house where Eileen had been born., 3 Park Terrace, South Shields. We use the word ‘house’ with a certain rhetorical flourish; although this Edwardian terrace must have been fine in its day, it has been reduced to a façade just about held in place by scaffolding. And yet the potential for incorporating this elegant façade into some restoration is obvious. After our visit both Richard and Quentin wrote to the council expressing their concern.

Gary our guide had been a mine of local information making this an excellent conclusion to the afternoon. Back now to the Metro for the return to Newcastle.

In the evening twenty-four Society members walked along the Tyne to the Copthorne Hotel for Dinner. Unfortunately, the table had been set for thirty-four so conversation didn’t flow as e asily (or at any rate as inclusively) as we would have liked, though this was rectified in the bar back at the Premier Inn after we treated ourselves to a walk back along the river.

Sunday 29th

You guessed: the sun’s still shining as we make our way into town to take the Metro out to South Shields again. Our task today is to visit the house in Beach Road to which the O’Shaughnessy family had moved and where Eileen had mostly grown up and to attach one of those blue plaques to the railings so that the world might know. The Mayor and Mayoress of South Tyneside, Councillor Pat Hay and Mrs Jean Copp ‘unveiled’ the plaque. The Mayor made a brief formal address concluding fittingly: “It was a real honour to unveil a special blue plaque in tribute to Eileen O’Shaughnessy – a little-known local woman who shaped, supported and likely even saved the life of one of the greatest writers of the 20th century.” Sylvia might have put it more strongly. The current owner of the property seemed to enjoy the proceedings and to be very pleased about his new acquisition. I wonder if it will increase the value of the property?

Our final task of the weekend was to visit Eileen’s grave in St. Andrews-and-Jesmond cemetery. The phrase to best describe Eileen’s grave might be ‘deliberately understated’ though until it came under the watchful eye of Orwell fan Brian Thompson it was in a desperate state. We watched while Richard laid flowers on his mother’s grave – how appropriate since it was Mothering Sunday – and then had a group photo taken before dispersing and heading off in our different ways. Back in the city we managed to fit in a trip to Newcastle’s Old Castle before catching the train north, after what had been what they always are – a thoroughly enjoyable Society trip.

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