The last large-scale loss of historic buildings in Newcastle city centre occurred on March 8th, 1900, when a huge blaze destroyed a cluster of timber-framed houses at the upper end of The Side and led to the eventual demolition of the handful of similar properties that had survived it. The Burnt House Inn was among them, it was the third time the pub had been consumed by fire.
It’s hard to say when the Burnt House was first scorched but it may have got its name as a consequence of a huge explosion at a nearby house at the Head of the Side in 1742. The home of a merchant called John Partis caught fire in the evening of October 24th and his neighbours rushed to the scene to put it out, unaware there was a barrel of gunpowder in the attic.
The house exploded and many people were killed on the spot, with others dying later of their injuries. The Mayor and several Aldermen and magistrates were among the wounded, a reward of fifty-shillings was made to each person who had helped extinguish the fire before it destroyed the whole area.
The Burnt House makes its earliest appearance in the public record four years later in May 1728 when it was occupied by John Carnaby, who organised horse races on the Town Moor. He rented the rear part of the building to Peter Bell, who ran a school for girls, teaching them needlework. The property was owned by a merchant from Benwell called John Gee, and remained in his possession until his death in 1777.
James Atkinson became the landlord the following year, and in August of 1780 he exhibited a zebra in the bar. The animal had been captured from a Spanish ship in 1779 and was intended to be a present for the King of Spain – instead it was auctioned in Bristol and taken on a tour of England. It was the first zebra seen in Newcastle, with a local newspaper saying that the “extraordinary curiosity” would be shown at the inn during Assizes Week.
However, no visitor to the Burnt House was quite as extraordinary as a young man called Alonzo Johnson, who arrived at the inn at the beginning of 1844, dressed as a woman. His appearance hadn’t gone unnoticed in Newcastle, The Journal noted he had been going about town in women’s clothes for several weeks. He was said to be from Leicester and had racked up a couple of criminal convictions for petty theft in Cumbria before arriving in Newcastle at the end of a six-month prison sentence for stealing a black silk cloak.
He was to face far more serious charges as a result of his stay at the Burnt House. The landlord of the inn by this time was Andrew Collings, whose brother-in-law shared a room with Alonzo and a painter called David Denham. On the evening of March 21st, 1844, he suspected the pair were having sex in the next bed and he fetched the police. They were arrested, the charge being that Alonzo had assaulted David and did “carnally know him in an indecent manner”, and that David had assisted in the assault.
Alonzo and David were taken into custody and examined by the police surgeon who said he had no doubt whatsoever that they were both guilty of the charge. In August of that year they appeared before Judge Pollock during Assizes Week. There was no expectation of a conviction as cases such as this usually hinged on one person’s word against another’s, but the evidence of the police surgeon swayed the jury, who took half an hour to decide the pair were guilty.
Judge Pollock donned the black cap and sentenced Alonzo and David to death, and they were taken to Newcastle Gaol to await their execution. The pair were summoned before the prison governor the following month and told that Queen Victoria had been graciously pleased to commute the sentence of death. They were to be transported to the colonies for the rest of their lives instead, and were taken to London where they were put on the convict ship Hyderabad on October 15th, bound for Tasmania.
John Banks became the next landlord of the Burnt House in 1849 and installed a large sign on the front of the pub that pictured a house with flames leaping from its roof. He was tempting fate because on the evening of April 25th 1852, that’s exactly what happened when the pub caught fire again. Fortunately, John and his family were able to escape the building before the fire took on the dimensions depicted in his sign.
The final and ultimately fatal fire in 1900 began on the premises of the paper merchant Robinson’s and quickly spread to the adjacent timber-framed buildings, which were densely packed around a warren of lanes behind St Nicholas Cathedral. The area was cleared the following year and Milburn House was built on the site.
