Brancepeth’s Silver Lining (NZ224377)

© Copyright Oliver Dixon and licensed for reuse 

under this Creative Commons Licence.

When fire swept through the medieval church of St. Brandon’s, Brancepeth, in September 1998, the locals – and, in fact, everyone of a historical bent in the North-East – couldn’t imagine that anything good could ever come out of the tragedy. A smouldering shell was all that was left of the building – no roof, no windows, no internal fixtures or fittings and, importantly, not a trace of the famed 17^th century Cosin woodwork. It all seemed like a very, very bad result indeed.

It took more than 15 years to complete a £3 million renovation of the building – and a beautiful one it is, too – but it turns out that the fiery intervention actually had, unbelievably, a really rather impressive silver lining: the discovery of a large horde of rare medieval tombstones hidden in the heights of the structure.

More than 100 of these curious artefacts were found – essentially large stone grave covers – all of them engraved with crosses, swords and other emblems, and dating from the 12^th and 13^th centuries. They are known as ‘cross slabs’ because of the preponderance of large cross-like images to be found on the pieces; but many of the etchings remain a mystery, and have been collectively termed the ‘Brancepeth Code’. Furthermore, it is the largest collection of its kind in the north of England.

It seems that the slabs were placed up in the heights of the church by Bishop Cosin in the 17^th century – possibly to keep them hidden from puritan reformers (they were found facing upwards), or maybe for purely structural purposes. A selection of the best examples are on display in the refurbished church and more can be found on view at Brancepeth Castle – whilst the rest have been retained in the structure of the church.

Note: Unfortunately, there don’t seem to be any decent images of the Brancepeth cross slabs online, though a general search of the subject matter will give you a good idea of the look of the items.

Roots of Beamish Museum (NZ220540)

The Colliery, Beamish Museum

(© Copyright Ashley Dace and licensed for reuse under this Creative CommonsLicence)

In 2010, Beamish Museum celebrated its 40^th birthday. It is the oldest regional ‘open air’ museum in England.

Incredibly, the idea for ‘Beamish’ was first floated back in 1958. It stumbled forward in fits and starts during the 1960s, gradually gathering items of all shapes and sizes from the public which were stored in an old army camp near Brancepeth. In total, more than twenty huts and hangars were filled with material.

Thanks, primarily, to the efforts of its first director, Frank Atkinson, the project gathered steam, and the collection was eventually brought to its current site near Beamish village in 1970 – the moment when the first staff members were formally appointed and the museum properly born. Even then, the amount of material was substantial, ranging from the smallest household item up to engines, vehicles and whole shops. Such was the enthusiasm for the scheme that a ‘Friends’ support group was established several years before the museum opened.

In 1971, the very first public exhibition – entitled ‘Museum in the Making’ – was established in Beamish Hall, and it was such a success that the final go-ahead was given to the concept of an ‘open air’ museum in the hall’s grounds. The following year saw the opening of the site as we know it today – if a good deal shorn of its now familiar attractions. A few cottages were erected in 1972, and in 1973 the railway station and pithead were constructed and the first trams began to run.

In the forty years since, Beamish has gone from strength to strength, picking up many national and international awards along the way. It is almost entirely self-funding, and attracts between 300-400,000 visitors per year.

Confusion at Ferryhill (NZ290328)

No one can say for sure how the town of Ferryhill in County Durham got its name. There are three theories. The first speculates that the ford across the now extinct river to the east (where the railway line now runs) combined with the lofty position of the settlement gave the place its name.

The second proposes that it is named after Sir Roger De Ferry (or Ferie), who famously killed the last boar of Brancepeth at Cleves Cross – now a part of the town – hence ‘Ferry’s Hill’. And the third theory simply suggests that the name is derived from the Old English fiergen, or firgen, meaning ‘wood’, or ‘wooded hill’ – with the ‘hill’ suffix added later.

The name first appears in the records as ‘Ferie’ in 1125, ‘Feregenne’ in 1256 and ‘Ferye on the Hill’ in 1316 – and it appears as an unnamed settlement in an Anglo-Saxon charter of 900. It would therefore seem likely that the latter place-name theory is correct. It has also been suggested that the ‘hill’ element was added to differentiate the village/parish from Ferrybridge in West Yorkshire – once also known as ‘Ferie’ and also on the Great North Road.

Cosin-work at Sedgefield (NZ357288)

John Cosin was one of Durham’s most famous prince-bishops. He ‘ruled’ for a little over eleven years from December 1660, and was generally held in good regard for his work both within and without the Church – including promoting the interests of schools and charities.

Arguably his most famous legacy, however, is the unique style of church woodwork he championed – an elaborate and intricate cross between Gothic and Jacobean. Little of this remains today, however – the font cover in Durham Cathedral being the best example. Further fine examples of Cosin-work were tragically destroyed by fire at Brancepeth in 1998, leaving those remaining at St.Edmund’s Church, Sedgefield, as perhaps the best we have left of this distinctive style of craftsmanship.

Surprisingly, there are no good images to be had of St.Edmund’s beautiful interior décor on the Internet*. You’ll just have to go and see it for yourself, I guess.

* If you know of any let me know.