Greenwell’s Glory (NZ168464)

William Greenwell was born in 1820 at Greenwell Ford, a little to the south of Lanchester, Co.Durham. He lived a long and full life, dying a few weeks short of his 98^th birthday in January 1918 - and, being born into a life of some privilege, he was accorded many opportunities during his extended stay on the planet. However, Greenwell is best remembered for something remarkably trivial.

He was educated at Durham School and at University College, Durham, before shunning a career as a barrister in London, deciding instead to return to the North-East and a life in the church. In 1854, he was appointed canon of Durham Cathedral (a post which he held until his death), and dabbled, too, in the life of the university. He was also an archaeologist, and became a leading light in the various clubs and societies of the region which were dedicated to the pastime. He excavated sites at Danes Graves, Yorkshire, and Grimes Graves, Norfolk, and amassed an immense collection of artefacts, which is now held by the British Museum.

His greatest claim to fame, though, is the delightfully named ‘Greenwell’s Glory’ - a trout fly for flyfishing, created for him by famed fly-dresser, Jimmy Wright of the Borders. It came about following a day of disappointment for Greenwell whilst fishing in the Tweed; whereupon a visit to Mr Wright brought about a new creation based on the canon’s observations of the day. The new design was fashioned thus:

The wings, inside of a blackbird wing; body, red and black hackle; tied with yellow silk.

Simple, yet highly effective, as, the very next day, Greenwell returned to Mr Wright’s abode with his creel and pockets bulging with trout - and the name ‘Greenwell’s Glory’ was born in the ensuing celebration. This is all thought to have happened in the mid 1850s, but the new fly soon caught on, and, indeed, is still with us today.  

The River Tweed

The River Tweed near Norham

(© Copyright David Chatterton and licensed for 

reuse under this Creative Commons Licence)

•  At 97 miles, it is the fourth longest river in Scotland (behind the Tay, Spey & Clyde);
• Its name comes from the Gaelic for ‘north’;
• Otherwise known as Tweed Water;
• Its source is at Tweed’s Well in the Lowther Hills;
• Its upper 74 miles are in Scotland, it then forms the border between England and Scotland for 19 miles, and its final 4 miles flow through England;
• Has a catchment area estimated at 1,500-1,800 square miles;
• It is the UK’s premier river for salmon fishing, catching more Atlantic salmon than anywhere else in the EU;
• Produces more fish caught to the fly than anywhere else in Britain;
• The Tweed’s famous autumn salmon run can produce catches approaching 30lb;
• At certain times of the year and in certain places, it can cost several thousand pounds per rod per week to fish the Tweed;
• Fishing for salmon (and sea trout) is strictly prohibited on Sundays;
• And, yes, Tweed cloth derives its name from its association with the river.

Honest, it was THIS Big! (c.NZ713203)

On 17^th February 2003, 40 year-old angler Val Fletcher was casting for little fishes from the beach at Skinningrove. She baited her line with squid and hoped for a nibble – perhaps from a mackerel or something equally as undramatic.

She got a bite all right, but it was no tiddler; for it was a 11½ft, 140lb oarfish (aka the King of Herrings) – and it took her a good 40 minutes to reel it in, aided by her partner, the appropriately named Robert Herrings.  Though the size of the fish was on the large side, it was a minnow by oarfish standards: they can reach 50ft+. Anyway, the 5ft 4in, eight stone woman beached the monster, dragged it home and left it outside for a couple of days for the locals to gawp at. No one was able to identify the specimen for some time.

Oarfish are incredibly rare – especially live specimens. They are the oceans’ longest bony fish, and prefer warmer climes and deeper seas.  One hadn’t been caught anywhere in the world since 1996 (off the US coast) – with previous UK finds including two at Whitby in 1759 & 1981 and one off Northumberland in 1794. Val is thought to have been the first person to have landed one with a rod and line.

When word finally got round, marine biologists were keen to examine the creature. By then, though, it had already been sliced up into steaks and shoved in Ms Fletcher’s deep freeze.

Fish-waste and Tatties (NZ528338)

Despite being a thriving port of some importance for many centuries, Hartlepool was in general decline during the eighteenth century.  Before its dramatic recovery during the Victorian era, its population numbered no more than a thousand or so, all of whom were crammed into what we now know as The Headland.  During the sleepy 1700s, the town tried, not altogether successfully, to tempt folk to its bracing climes by way of medicinal springs, particularly the iron-salt spa near the Westgate.  For some reason, Thomas Gray, the famous poet, visited in July 1765 to take the waters, and wrote to his friend Dr Wharton:

I have been for two days to taste the water, and do assure you that nothing could be salter (sic) and bitterer and nastier and better for you... I am delighted with the place; there are the finest walks and rocks and caverns.

Some weeks later, he wrote again:

The rocks, the sea and the weather there more than made up to me the want of bread and the want of water, two capital defects, but of which I learned from the inhabitants not to be sensible. They live on the refuse of their own fish-market, with a few potatoes, and a reasonable quantity of Geneva [gin] six days in the week, and I have nowhere seen a taller, more robust or healthy race: every house full of ruddy broad-faced children. Nobody dies but of drowning or old-age: nobody poor but from drunkenness or mere laziness.

He wasn’t the only one impressed with the locals.  Isambard Kingdom Brunel remarked in 1831, on the eve of the settlement’s industrialisation:

A curiously isolated old fishing town – a remarkably fine race of men. Went to the top of the church tower for a view.

If only he were able to climb the steps of St.Hilda’s tower now and see the difference.

Winslow Homer’s Cullercoats Period (NZ364715)

No one really knows why, but in the spring of 1881 eminent American painter, Winslow Homer, chose to spend eighteen months of his life in the Northumberland coastal village of Cullercoats. It was a period of his life which resulted in a widely acknowledged improvement in his artistic style and not a little fame for the fishing community itself.

The Bay Hotel, demolished as recently as 2005, was the great man’s home during his extended stay (then known as the Hudleston Arms Hotel). He maintained a studio across the road at No.12 Bank Top (demolished 1930), which enjoyed fine views out to sea and over the harbour.

Homer remained in the village until November 1882. A very private man, he was left in peace by the residents, who were no doubt used to his type, Cullercoats being something of a magnet for artists during 1870-1920 (other notables included Henry H.Emmerson, Robert Jobling, Arthur H.Marsh, Isa Thompson, John Falconer Slater and John Charlton). Homer was fascinated by the disappearing old ways of the fisherfolk, especially the fisherwives, who adorn many of his canvases. The images are sober, unfancy affairs, with an edgy realism – a style which was new to the artist, and which won him much admiration on his return to the States in late 1882: “He is a very different Homer from the one we knew in days gone by”; now his pictures “touch a far higher plane...They are works of High Art.”

An apartment block called Winlsow Court now stands on the site of the old Bay Hotel.

For a selection of Homer’s paintings of the village, see www.cullercoats.pwp.blueyonder.co.uk/org/homer.html ; and for general Cullercoats history see http://www.cullercoats.org.uk/ (and click on ‘history’- a good deal, too, on Homer here). More general biographical detail on the man can be found at http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Winslow_Homer ; and a splendid collection of his works is hosted at http://www.winslow-homer.com/ .