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Market
Sun. 7th Jan., 2001 |
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Street markets have been the subject of legal edicts and regal charters for centuries. The charters allowed trading on
Sundays when this was forbidden for normal shops.The Newcastle Quayside Sunday Market has been in existence for many centuries. The earliest mention in city records is 1736, and its charter dates from the
middle of the 18th century, when "Sunday Observance" became another fantastical invention of the Victorians. It became forbidden to have any enjoyment on Sunday, and ordinary commerce and trade were stopped.
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Photograph property of Tyne & Wear Archive Service. |
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During my childhood in Manchester my mother used to try to encourage me to tidy my room by exclaiming, "It looks like Paddy's Market
here!". This is the market to which she referred. Pictured above in 1900, there were no regular pitches or licences, and it was a place for the sale of second hand clothing. This practice continued until the mid 1970s.
Below is the site today. The regular Sunday market is spread out beyond. |
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Below are three photographs from almost the same spot, but decades apart, 1954, 1966, and 1974. Note the Ice Cream seller in the middle
photograph, this is Michael Quadrini, now a multi millionaire, and amongst other things owner of the "Tuxedo Princess" boat moored at Gateshead as a floating nightclub that now forms a continual eyesore. |
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It is clear that crowds are now much smaller that in previous decades. There are less stalls, and the flamboyant traders with their
irresistible patter aimed at enticing the pennies from our pockets are a thing of the past. Today's stalls seemed rather low key, with traders seeming not to care if passers by had any interest in their wares.
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The market extends from the Milk Market in the east past the Tyne Bridge and the guildhall to the Swing Bridge approach.
The area around the Guildhall has been laid out in a piazza style with ornate cobbles and small raised areas. Where just nine months ago this spot was crammed with stalls, today there is empty space. No
stalls and no shoppers. Could this decline spell the end for this traditional weekly festive occasion? Has the drone of regular commerce in the supermarkets and other stores, now extended to seven days per
week, dealt a death blow for the Quayside Market? No trader I chatted to today was optimistic. The most upbeat comment was "Wey, man, its just affta Christmas. Nae wun's git any cash." The irresistible
march of global big business, and the military losers of the Second World War being the economic winners, meant the end of industry, shipping and shipbuilding on the Tyne. Tory Thatcher not only snatched the
children's school milk, planned to privatise museums and libraries, but shut all the coal mines in the land just to prove a political point. The once thriving river is now almost silent, and seems to be
heading towards becoming a heritage centre and theme park. Is that chilling breeze blowing along the valley actually the cold wind of reality that will soon sweep away the remnants of this weekly festival? I
fear so. Perhaps some bright soul in the Civic Centre will see an opportunity for immortality and votes and inaugurate the Councillor Sam Snooks Sunday Sales, with elfin loveable traders selling tourist
trinkets as a continuation of a centuries old tradition. |
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Peace and serenity are here whilst the opposite is tied up on the Gateshead side of the River.The Tuxedo Princess is a
floating temple to alcohol, dancing, and noise. Every weekend it sinks a little lower in the water as the massed hordes of revellers board in the eternal search for fun, sexual exploits, and coupling. Then
the vessel rises again as thousands of gallons of liquid leave for dry land in the bladders of the revellers. A pleasant enough enterprise, and one with a ready market, but why did anyone grant permission
for that eyesore to be tied up on the river on a virtually permanent basis? |
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There's bags of room here near the Guildhall. See the half timbered houses on Sandhill behind and to the right, with the lantern tower of
St. Nicholas' Cathedral peeping over the top. |
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Picture frames, prints and mirrors are for sale on the left, whilst unseasonal sarongs hang forlornly in the wintry breeze.
Many young men venture out on Friday and Saturday nights for the courtship and bonding rituals wearing jeans and thin tee shirts. The girls wear flimsy tissue tops and skirts that would be thought of as wide
belts elsewhere. We are a hard lot up north; we don't feel the cold. So perhaps sarongs are not such a bad idea after all. For now, at least, there is still a Quayside Market and a ready source of bargains
for the thrifty. |
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