St.Cuthbert’s Church, Bellingham (NY838832)

© Copyright wfmillar and licensed for reuse 

under this Creative Commons Licence.

Bellingham, now a parish in its own right, was once an ancient chapelry of ‘The Great Parish’ of Simonburn (see here). It has therefore had its own place of worship, St.Cuthbert’s Church, for a very long time indeed, with roots going back to Dark Age Northumbria. And the old church is, for many reasons, a very interesting place…

(1) Firstly, of course, on account of its very name, the spot is supposed to have been one of the resting places for St. Cuthbert’s body and the fleeing monks of Lindisfarne in the 9^th century;

(2) Secondly, there is the church’s strange construction. Possibly uniquely in England, Bellingham has a heavy vaulted stone roof. Externally, this is evidenced by the use of massive stone slabs as slates, and internally by a hefty barrel-like construction. It wasn’t always like this, though. For centuries it had a standard timber roof, but this was replaced with the present effort in the early 17^th century when the locals tired of its repeated torching by those pesky Scots (see point 4 for one such instance);

(3) Then, in the churchyard, you will find an odd-shaped, pillow-like tombstone labelled ‘The Lang Pack.’ This is supposedly the final resting place of the victim of an infamous tale of Northumbrian folklore, when a man hiding in a ‘Lang (Long) Pack’ was killed by a manservant of nearby Lee Hall whilst trying to gain illegal entry to the same in 1723. No one quite knows what to make of either the story or the grave-marker;

(4) Next there is the display case inside the church containing cannon balls. The label tells us that they were found in the roof when the stone slabs were relaid in 1861 – and were probably launched into their location during the 1597 artillery raid by the Duke of Buccleuch.

Interesting place, then.

It would be remiss of me not to bring to your attention Northernvicar’sblog entry on the topic, which has a few more pictures for your visual consumption.

Simonburn: The Great Parish (centred on NY871735)

© Copyright Peter Brooks and licensed for reuse 

under this Creative Commons Licence.

Visitors to the little village of Simonburn in the North Tyne valley often wonder at the size of the settlement’s substantial parish church. For sure, it is a big one, and seemingly out of all proportion to its modest setting. But there is a good reason for the discrepancy, for Simonburn was once the largest parish in England.

Prior to an Act of Parliament of 1811 – which, when enacted in 1814, split the parish into several splinters – this sparsely populated ecclesiastical unit covered a whopping 260 square miles! And considering that this huge area has only ever contained around 1,000 folk, well, that is one long trudge into church every Sunday for some very lonely people. It was known, for obvious reasons, as ‘The Great Parish’, and stretched from Hadrian’s Wall in the south to Carter Bar on the Scottish Border – some 30 miles in length and 14 miles wide.

It is believed that the parish boundaries were established in 1072 by Bishop Walcher of Durham during the re-organisation of his diocese (which then included Northumberland). The 1811-14 division saw the creation of Wark, Bellingham, Greystead, Thorneyburn and Falstone out of the ancient parish – with Humshaugh & Haughton (a single entity) following in 1832. So, seven parishes out of one!

At its heart lies the mother church, St.Mungo’s, with roots stretching back, we think, to the 6^th or 7^th century (though the earliest stonework probably dates from the 9^th century). It was then that the aforementioned St.Mungo was on his travels after having been ousted from his cell at Glasgow by the pagan King Morken. Some sources even suggest that the church’s founding may stretch back to St.Ninian, who died in the early 5^th century.

The current church, obviously much altered over the years, extends over a slope and has a distinct list as a result.

The Amazing Ned Coulson (NY844643)

Edward ‘Ned’ Coulson was born at Broadstone Cottages, near The Anchor Hotel, Haydon Bridge, in 1754. Ned was an eccentric character – and a supremely talented one at that. He was a superb athlete on the one hand … and as daft as a brush on the other.

Ned was marked out as odd from his earliest years. He didn’t utter a word until he was five and was skitted by his schoolfriends for this ‘backwardness’. He soon caught up, though, and followed his father into joinery and watchmaking; and on reaching maturity he was tall, wiry and very strong.

His most obvious talent was his running, for which he became famous. He competed successfully in races across the North-East, and kept in shape by running around the countryside from job to job pulling a cart behind him. He played the fiddle, too – and could do so behind his back whilst running. Another trick was overtaking horse and carriages, hiding to let them pass, then overtaking them again, to the astonishment of the travellers. On several occasions he ran up to Haydon Bridge old church at the dead of night, mounted the pulpit and read aloud to himself from the Bible.

His athletic ability would take him on extraordinary journeys. Once he was tasked with taking a message on a 50-mile return trip to Stanhope, which he achieved over the course of one winter’s night and the following morning – surprising his taskmaster by presenting him with his return message in an almost impossible timeframe. On another occasion, after walking 65 miles he reached home in time to take a successful part in some athletic sports. But his most famous feat was beating a horse and rider in a race from Brampton to Glenwhelt – a distance of more than ten miles.

Ned was odd in all sorts of ways – far too many to mention here. He would collect strange things, including herbs which he kept in his bedroom, and hoarded bad (damaged) half-crowns. He also had an irrational dislike of pigs.

One source states that Coulson was of Kenyan descent, which would certainly explain his talent for long distance running. He died in 1807 after fording the Tyne when the bridge was out and catching a cold – after which he bizarrely removed himself to Bellingham where he soon died and was buried.