[Coquet]

A YOUNG PORT.
About three years ago, in an account we gave our readers of Mr Picton's agreeable Memorials of Liverpool, we outlined the gradual rise and development of that wealthy town, from its insignificance in the days of Queen Elizabeth, when only twelve vessels belonged to its merchants, to its affluence and commerce of the present time, when upwards of 20,000 vessels enter the port annually. We are now going to notice the formation of a new port in our own day from a similar small beginning. Without assuming that this young Victorian venture will assume the dimensions of its Elizabethan example, we may watch its foundation and progress with interest, and possibly with advantage.
The young port we are about to describe is at the mouth of the Coquet in Northumberland. It is so young it has scarcely yet consolidated itself sufficiently to be certain of its own name ; for, while generally called Amble, it is officially entitled Warkworth, and the harbour offices are lettered " Warkworth Harbour Offices." Thirty years ago, however, there were only two good houses and a few cottages near the mouth of the river, and this little group of habitations were known as Amble. In an old garden behind the houses in the new main street is a short length of an ancient wall, in which there is a traceried window blocked up proving the correctness of local records that attest the existence of a small religious house here in the Middle Ages. With these exceptions, wherever the eye rests in Amble all is new. There are new streets, new roads, crisp to the tread with pebbles from the shore, a new church, new schools, a new vicarage-house now building, a new bank, new shops in all sorts of unfinished corners, a new harbour, a new pier, new quays, new tramways, new brick-kilns, new hones building in various directions, and all so new that nothing appears to be quite finished.
Glancing down some of the new streets, we note there is no pavement, or it only extends along part of the length of the street; in one we perceive the stumps of the hedges and bushes that grew there a short time ago, or the great root of a tree, still in situ ; in another, an open burn, with only a few old planks thrown across it for people to walk on; and we note that the tramways for the coal-waggons cross the public roads and pathways without the least protection. But this incompleteness is by no means the result of idleness or indifference ; every one is intelligently and briskly busy, and there is not a lounger or beggar to be seen in the place. It is simply owing to the rapidity and recentness of its growth, and press of attention to other matters.

As we have said, the whole population is heavily at work. Little steam-tugs puff in and out of the harbour, tugging great ships that glide silently after them ; long lines of coal-waggons tear along the tramways from the collieries to the quays and tilt their loads into the holds of vessels waiting to receive them ; fishing boats come and go, and carts come to meet them; a huge dredging-machine is always at work, dredging up pebbles and sand from the bottom of the harbour, and discharging them into trucks that are to carry them away; ballast is also unshipped and taken away in trucks; and every one on the spot seems to take the liveliest interest in what is going on ; while, less than three miles up the river, is the lonely Hermitage of Warkworth, as silent and still and deeply shadowed with trees as it could have been when the unhappy hermit lived in it, who fed upon his tears day and right ; and less than two miles up the river stands the grand castle of the Percies, ruined and roofless, and as still and as silent as the Hermitage.
The cause of the sudden outburst of human activity at Amble was the discovery that the coal seams worked at Radcliffe, a pit about a mile away, were of such immense extent that they were, so to speak, inexhaustible. It occurred to some minds as original and far-seeing as that of the Mayor of Liverpool in Queen Elizabeth's days that, if a harbour could he made at the mouth of the river, this coal could be disposed of profitably. A company was formed in London, and the scheme set on foot. Many lent themselves to the venture and the pit, once the small property of the unfortunate Earl of Derwentwater, was adequately worked with powerful machinery, and the harbour was also commenced. Another colliery, about three miles away, at Broomhill, was rapidly developed, and all seemed prosperous. But many difficulties arose. The bed of the river proved to be very shallow, and notwithstanding the unceasing labours of the dredging-machine, is not yet deep enough ; the pits were the property of rival companies, who competed with each other rather than worked together; there were three long miles of distance to the nearest railway ; considerable depression set in ; the large population suddenly drawn together without adequate house accommodation brought its own evils ; there were outbreaks of fever ; and those who advanced the money sunk in the undertaking did not enjoy the fruits of their pains. The sum expended upon the harbour works is spoken of, roughly and sadly, as a quarter of a million of money. But now the enterprise has changed hands, and all things have adjusted themselves on the new basis, and settled to work well. The two collieries are now in the same hands, there is a prospect of two other collieries shipping their coal from the port; and there is a general air of hope, and even certainty, of great things.

Not one house in this little Victorian port is more than two stories in height; and all of them are on the south side of the river. The main street runs from one end of the town to the other, and has been laid out to be 40 ft. wide ; but, unfortunately, there is a sudden bend half-way down it that gives it the character of two distinct streets; otherwise it would have been a very satisfactory setting out. The western end of this thoroughfare is called High-street, and the eastern end is named Queen-street. It is approached from Warkworth by a steeply ascending way a called the Wynd, and then comes on and on till it comes to the two old substantial houses we have mentioned, when it takes the sudden bend half-way in its length, and then goes on again till it stretches itself through the whole length of the town, and dies into the sandy coally flat, traversed by waggon-ways, that lies between the town and Harbour. South and north of this main street run parallel streets, not continuously yet, but in various lengths; and from the east and from the west are openings to short streets, containing a few new houses in each ; and, again, with less system than here indicated, there are new houses of exactly the same type building in isolated spots that have yet to be connected with any roads at all.
Out of all these new buildings only three have any architectural pretentions. These are the church, the bank, and the vicarage-house now in course of erection, which all present an ancient French character, and are the designs of the same architect. All the streets of small two-storied houses exhibit no design, except a desire on the part of the masons and joiners who have erected them to do so at the smallest cost compatible with durability for the proposed accommodation.
In this little port, house accommodation does not include a supply of water, nor a system of drainage. Out of all the houses, all day long, come people with cans and pails to carry water from three wells, and out of nearly all the houses, all day long, people throw all their slops and refuse upon the nearest ash-midden. A small line of drain has indeed, been laid down in one part of the town, but it does not answer the purpose of proper sewerage. Busy, intelligent, and enterprising as they are, the residents have not taken time, apparently, to consider that the water would come to them if properly managed, and the sewage and slops depart from them also, if properly conducted; or, if they have looked at the matter, they have not been able to surmount the difficulty the question presented to them. However, the outbreaks of fever made it apparent that the Rural Sanitary Authority of the union to which Amble belongs that a system of sewerage is imperatively required, and this is shortly to be laid down.


The formation of the harbour has left in the rear of it a low-lying brack, formerly covered by the tide. The present proprietor proposes to till up this piece of land claimed from the ocean to a suitable level for building purposes, and to cover it with trees. Towards this end all the ballast brought home by the ships that take coal away is discharged upon it, and is gradually rising high and dry above the shore. Already thirty-two ships belong to the little port, three of which were built in Amble. Twenty-one of them are of Sunderland workmanship, and one of Prussian building. These figures, however, give no idea of the coming and going, the tugging in and out of gallant ships, as the vessels from foreign parts visiting the harbour are much more numerous. In Liverpool, only two centuries ago, the largest vessel belonging to its merchants was only 40 tons burden. In this little Victorian port, now so rapidly rising out of the waters, the largest ship is 714 tons burden; and the smallest, the Sea-flower, is 155 tons burden.
As Amble is not on the road to any other place, there is but very little wheeled traffic in it. The streets are comparatively quiet, owing to the absence of carriages, wagons, and omnibuses. Accidents are rare on the land, but, on the other hand, the sea furnishes its quota, and instead of street causalities, there are fishermen dying because they have been swept overboard and hurt, and sailors sick unto death brought into' the little hospital. This institution, bye the bye, is but a small house in the Wynd, and might be considerably improved by a better situation, which opinion will be doubtless shared by this occupiers of two or three bright little villa residences with gay flower-gardens in this same Wynd, and as well by the tenants of the adjoining cottages.
From the windows of such of the rows of houses as face the north are superb views of the wide open country, with Warkworth Castle standing up like a sentinel in the middle of it, and with the placid Coquet winding about through the meadows in it. From the windows of many of the other houses are splendid views of the North Sea, with Coquet Island, with its lighthouse glittering upon it like a great jewel, and black and white ships silently and dimly appearing and disappearing all day long in the horizon.