An interesting account of an “Ice Festival” is given in the pages of The Champion of February 6th, 1814. It is chronicled that “Saturday se’nnight afforded to the inhabitants of Kelso a scene to which there has been nothing similar for the last 73 years. The late severe weather having frozen the Tweed completely over, a number of the respectable inhabitants were desirous of dining on the ice, and gave orders to Mr. Lander, of the Queen’s Head Inn, to provide what was necessary for the occasion. He accordingly erected an enormous tent in the midst of the river, opposite Ednam House, and served up an excellent and hot dinner to a numerous and respectable company. The tent, which was well heated by stoves, was surmounted by an orange flag, and the union flags of England and Holland were displayed on tables. From forty to fifty sat down to dinner. The following toasts were drunk with glee:—‘General Frost, who so signally fought last winter for the deliverance of Europe, and who now supports the present company.’ ‘Both sides of the Tweed, and God preserve us in the middle.’ The company were much gratified by seeing among them an old inhabitant of the town who was present at the last entertainment given under similar circumstances, in the winter of the year 1740, when part of an ox was roasted on the ice. No accident happened to disturb the pleasures of the scene.”
From a scene of rejoicing let us turn to a record of a painful death occurring at this period. We find in the “Annals of Manchester,” edited by W. E. A. Axon, (pub. 1886) a note as follows, under the year 1814:—“Miss Lavinia Robinson was found drowned in the Irwell, near the Mode Wheel, February 8. This young lady, who possessed superior mental accomplishments, as well as personal beauty, was engaged to Mr. Holroyd, a surgeon, but on the eve of her intended marriage she disappeared from her home in Bridge Street, December 6th, and owing to the long frost, her body remained under the ice for a long period. It appears most probable that the rash act of the ‘Manchester Ophelia’ was due to a quarrel in which her betrothed had repeated some slanderous statements respecting her. There was, however, a strong suspicion that she had met with foul play. The slanders were shown to be baseless, and the feeling against Mr. Holroyd was so strong that he had to leave the town. (Procter’s ‘Bygone Manchester,’ pages 268, 269. ‘City News Notes and Queries,’ vol. I., p. 265.)”
We extract from the Newcastle Weekly Chronicle the following lines by an anonymous author:—
TYNE FAIR;
OR, THE GREAT FROST, JAN. 31, AND FEB. 1, 1814.
The frost here commemorated began about the 8th December, 1813, and continued in a gentle manner until the morning of the 14th January, 1814, when a stronger frost covered the Tyne below bridge with a smooth and perfect sheet of ice, on which, the succeeding day, a number of people ventured, and skaters, for three successive days. A partial thaw came on which damped the ardour of skaters, until the night of the 29th of January, when again a severe frost considerably strengthened the ice, and presented a glassy surface above bridge. On Monday, 31st January, no less than seven tents were erected on it for the sale of spirits, and fires kindled on that and the succeeding day. Parties dined in various of the tents. The desire of recreation shone forth in every face. Horse shoes, football, “toss or buy,” rolly polly, fiddlers, pipers, razor grinders, recruiting parties, and racers with and without skates, were all alive to the moment. Hats, breeches, shifts, stockings, ribbons, and even legs of mutton, were the rewards of the racers, who turned night into day; the brilliancy of the full moon contributing to their diversions until late beyond midnight. A horse and sledge above bridge added to the novelty of the scene; and it is worthy of remark that not one accident of consequence happened, although thousands ventured their persons upon the ice. Owing to the severity of the season, the London Mail for Friday, the 21st January, and three following days, was brought to Newcastle on the fifth day, in the Lord Wellington Coach, with eight horses; a circumstance quite new to the inhabitants of canny Newcastle.
The angry winter storms aloud,
In icy chains the floods are bound;
And on the Tyne the people crowd,
As if it were on level ground.
The keelmen now lay many a plank,