- now (1984) NatWest Bank. Bank took over the Cock in Decr 1875. Previously Bank premises started in 1835 at beginning of Northgate (now Meredith’s Confectioners) opposite to Black Swan.
From A Month in Yorkshire, by Walter White, 1858.
“Having refreshed myself at the Buck, I took an evening stroll, not a little surprised at the changes which the place had undergone since I once saw it. Then it had the homely aspect of a village and scarce a sound would you hear after nine at night in its long wide street; now at both ends new houses intrude on the fields and hedgerows, the side lanes have grown into streets lit by gas and watched by policemen. Tippling irondiggers disturb the night with noisy shouts when sober folk are a-bed, and the old honest look has disappeared for ever. More delightful than now must the prospect have been in the early days and even within the present century, when no great excavations of ironstone left yellow blots in the masses of foliage.”
At Stump Cross closed 1965.
(And replaced with apartment blocks abt 2002?)
Black Swan, Westgate, Ann Shepherd
Buck Inn, Market Place, Mary Watson
Cock Inn &Coml. Hotel & Posting House, Market Place, Thomas Marsh
Fox Inn, Bow St, Wm Ord
George & Dragon, Market Place, John Scaife
Golden Lion, Market Place, Joseph Garbutt
Highland Laddie, Church St, Elizabeth Leng
King’s Head, Westgate, Edward Williamson
Lord Nelson, Church St
Mermaid (later Tap & Spile), Westgate, John Peart
Seven Stars Hotel & Posting House, Market Place, Thomas Booth
Ship, Westgate, Herman Howcroft
Sloop, Westgate, John Beadnall
Three Fiddlers (Three Fiddles), Westgate
Also in 1840: King William in Church St (Ralph Greathead).
Abbey, Redcar Rd
Miners Arms, Westgate, West End
Station Hotel, Chaloner St
Red Lion, Church St, (closed 1970)
Add: Masons Arms, corner of Child St, off Cleveland St (Westgate end).
Ord’s History of Cleveland, 1846 p 229: “Gisborough abounded in public houses when the alum works were prosperous and the sail-cloth manufactories progressed. The following were in Church Street:
Ralph Greathead’s, then the sign of the Salutation;
Elizabeth Lincoln’s, the Unicorn;
Robert Knaggs’, the Plough;
Jane Corney’s, the Chequers*
David Lincoln’s, the sign of the Black Dog.
These with the first exception, by decrease of trade and increase of morality have wholly disappeared, and are now occupied respectively by individuals otherwise engaged, and in one case by a shining light and chief apostle of tee-totalism!” Note Ord’s quip: Ord not a TT?
ON CARD PLAYING
What I am about to write,
Took place in Guisbro' one winter's night,
While in a tavern there we met,
A company of young men—set.
Their business was not more or less,
To have some game with cards, or chess,
And drink their glasses, all around,
At the "Ship" in Westgate they were found.
To spend their night so jovial there,
And of those pleasures have their share;
Now, many a drink their sweet to bitter,
And often lurch themselves in litter.
Some say they play at "beggar my neighbour,"
And some go home more drunk than sober;
'Twas not the case with Jonathan Price,
Who liked to play with cards and dice.
A stranger man came to the place,
Who to the company seem'd no disgrace;
He in the game now join'd a hand,
And all he had at his command.
For in it, he was so complete,
Won all the games, that very night;
On him they look'd with trem'rous awe,
And yet, did not the gamester know.
They set their eyes on him—aghast,
Now found the stranger out at last;
A cloven foot, beneath the table,
Caus'd one to leave as soon as able.
When he had dealt the cards around,
One slipt his hand—fell to the ground;
To gather't up—bent down so quick—
Lo, and behold! he saw old Nick.
He movèd fast now from his seat,
Resolvèd there no more to meet;
He'd now found out—it was an evil,
To play at cards, along with't devil.
Pray mind what I'm about to say,
Those who yet with them will play;
May be, in Jonathan's condition,
I should not like much, his profession.
Whether Drink or Tremens, I cannot see,
What caus'd him in this state to be;
It may be, Jonathan's imagination—
Occasioned by the drinking fashion.
My advice here is, keep out of evil,
Then we're sure to cheat the devil;
Which thing is right, and fair, we should,
And see our company be good.
Now, as for Price, and his assertion,
To all this I have great aversion;
On him it rests—if conscience clear,
I would not be on him severe.
We know the vanity of men.
Some know what's bad, and try't again;
It must be strange, to see such things,
But might been worse, if he'd had wings,
And flown away, with Jonathan quick,
We might imagin'd then—it was old Nick.
Thankful he felt, his life was spar'd,
Resolv'd, never to play another card.
You may give credit to it or not,
He no more is a drunken sot;
His former habits he has forsaken,
And of Christianity now partaken.
There sought pleasures, as he saith,
There is no doubt, but what he saw
Struck on his mind a wondrous blow.
'Tis forty years, and more, since he,
Did emptiness and folly see,
In things so foolish, where mankind
Expect their happiness to find.
Thus with King Charles the VI. of France,
For whom, cards were invented once,
Him to amuse, in intervals of pain,
I trust, therefrom, his mind was chang'd again.
As his was in the sequel of my tale, you see,
And so might all, who will their folly flee;
Now, my dear friends, the story's at an end,
I'll with it no more time expend.
Just this—his family told me the joke,
Himself won't of the matter talk;
For fear he should the Poet blame,
I've put him in a fictious name.
What shall I say, now, in the end?
Who practise these things, try to mend;
The like of this, we've heard before,
Pray keep outside the tavern door.
THE TOWN AND VICINITY OF GUISBRO'
In the beauteous vale of Cleveland, Guisbro' stands,
So noted for its health, and pleasant fertile lands;
'Tis mountainous bound, on every side,
And all round, seems graceful as a bride.
Its walks are pleasing to perspective eye,
With songsters in the woods, and Spa close by;
Whose purity of waters, from the rocks that spring,
Alike are suited, for the beggar and the king.
Those who have prov'd the same, know fully well,
The Poet here, the truth in verse doth tell;
Now where the waters are so pure and good,
Reason will dictate, purity of blood.
The oxigen of air, which wafts in every breeze,
Thus are we situate too, near Neptune's range,
Where now the scenery so grand, doth change.