Barnard Castle

A Brief Stop for Lunch and Several Reasons to Return

Does Barnard Have a Castle?

County Durham

We set out to drive to Alnwick in Northumberland, but that takes 4 hours or more, so we needed a lunch stop. As the driver, Lynne decided to take the M6 as far as Tebay, eschew its excellent service station, turn right and track east cross-country to Barnard Castle. I had an eye operation two weeks ago and she thought we could have lunch, and I could check my eyesight while I was there; it was the obvious place to go.

Co Durham and its position within England (inset)
Barnard Castle is a town with some 5,000 inhabitants in the south west of the county

Arriving from the east we entered the town over the old bridge across the River Tees below the eponymous castle. The bridge was rebuilt in 1596 incorporating elements of a much older structure.

The castle is atmospheric if somewhat skeletal. Built at the end of the 11th century, it controlled the river crossing between the Bishop of Durham’s territory to the north and the feudal lordship known as the ‘Honour of Richmond’ to the south. It was updated in the12th and early 13th centuries by the Balliol family who (off and on) claimed the throne of Scotland (see The Battle of Stirling in the Stirling) post. The Earls of Warwick then held the castle until 1471 when it passed to the Duke of Gloucester, later Richard III, who held it until his death at the battle of Bosworth in 1485. In 1569, the ‘Rising of the North’, a Catholic insurrection against Elizabeth I, led to rebels besieging and then taking the castle after a damaging bombardment. The castle never recovered and was abandoned in the early 17th century.

Barnard Castle above the River Tees

We did not visit the castle – now in the care of English Heritage – as this was only a lunch stop. The borrowed photo, by Ben Gamble, is part of the Geograph project collection and is reproduced under Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 2.0 Generic licence.

Anything Else?

Other than the castle, Barnard Castle’s main attraction is the Bowes Museum. It is housed in a purpose-built château designed by Jules Pellechet in French Second Empire style. Building started in 1869 (the 2nd Empire collapsed in 1870) and the museum opened to the public in 1892. It was the vision of wealthy local landowner John Bowes and his Wife Joséphine, though unfortunately neither lived to see their museum open.

It has displays of art – paintings by Canaletto, El Greco and Goya among others – ceramics, silver, tapestries, sculpture and local history. There is also the Silver Swan – a life-sized 18th century automaton - that elegantly “catches fish” when activated. It is the only exhibit I remember from our visit in the 1970s. There was no visit this time, entry now costs £20 a head, too much for a lunchtime brief encounter.

Once round the castle we drove up The Bank – the lower part of what might elsewhere be called the High Street - and then went twice round the Market Cross. This was not strictly necessary, and the event produced a minor domestic dispute, finally settled by allotting the blame to me. Continuing through the High Street’s upper section, known Horse Market, we rounded the bend into Galgate. On our right was a large car park outside the local Morrisons, so we stopped there.

Barnard Castle Market Cross

Testing One's Eyesight

The first thing I did after leaving the car park was to test my eyesight, it is a long tradition in Barnard Castle dating all the way back to 2020.

Looking at things to test my eyesight, Barnard Castle

In April that year, during the first COVID lockdown, Dominic Cummings - Chief Adviser to PM Boris Johnson - travelled with his wife and child from London to Durham after she developed COVID symptoms. The rest of us were dutifully staying at home, as instructed, but an allowance was made for those seeking necessary childcare support. Few people imagined this allowance covered a five-hour drive.

Sometime later Cummings admitted to being seen in Barnard Castle (about 30 minutes from Durham - I have a Durham post, too). He had driven there, he said, to "test his eyesight" and ensure he was safe to make the long drive back to London after recovering from COVID symptoms.

Few people believed him. Apart from it being against lockdown regulation, would a sensible person take a 30-minute drive to see if their eyesight was fit for driving? Mine is marginal, so Lynne drove me here and after 20 minutes in Barnard Castle it still seemed marginal. Both Cummings and Johnson apparently believed in one rule for the people and another rule for them. Cummings resigned in November 2020, Johnson some 18 months later.

Lunch

Brie and Cranberry

We located a convenient café on Galgate and ordered toasties and a cup of tea. I enjoyed my brie and cranberry toastie and it set me wondering how a cheese from northern France first met a berry from the coastal United States and struck up a relationship. I asked the ever-semi-reliable ChatGPT and they told me that it is an English sandwich filling which first appeared in the early 2000s - they could cite no specific ‘first instance’ - and spread organically until it became widespread. The British market for French soft cheeses, they said, expanded markedly in the early 2000s, about the same time as cranberry sauce was first being imported from America where it had long been a traditional part of Thanksgiving and Christmas meals. There may be a grain of truth there, but cranberry sauce has been part of my Christmases since the 1970s and I have been eating brie and camembert since the 60s. Perhaps, when it comes to new foods, I grew up in a family of early adopters. I would note the combination requires an under-ripe brie, like most of those in British supermarkets. A fully ripe Brie de Meaux is a joy but would be overpowering in this context.

And a Side Order of Compassion

As we were finishing, an elderly man came in and sat at the table next to us. I am 75, I would hate to be called elderly (even if I am) but I have just used that word to describe somebody else. I doubt he was much older than me and he seemed in reasonable physical condition, but the blank look in his eye suggested he was not the man he once was. One of the young women who work in the café greeted him by name. “Hello Lenny,” she said, “D’you want a cup of tea?” He stared straight ahead but did not answer. She fetched some tea, put it in front of him and sat down opposite. “Do you want something to eat?” There was a long silence, but she waited patiently. “What's the soup?” “You wouldn't like it, Lenny. Would you like some apple tart?” He did not answer. “We’ve got custard, would you like some custard?” He nodded. She went away and returned bearing a bowl containing a large slice of apple tart wallowing in custard. He picked up his spoon and started eating with obvious relish.

We left at that point. I have no idea how much help he needs and gets, but he was reasonably well turned out.  Maybe he comes in every day, but the important point is that he was treated with sensitivity and compassion. - a shining example of kindness in a world that sees too little of it.

Horse Market

Walking back round into Horse Market we saw a gentle curve of buildings running down to the Market Cross.  Most look Georgian though some are younger and a few older. Many have blue plaques explaining the various uses the premises have been put to over the centuries.

Horse Market, Barnard Castle

The good people of Barnard Castle have a Morrisons and a Lidl for their convenience but are blessed by also having the option of proper old-fashioned butchers and an artisan baker with a side-line in interesting cheeses. One of the several pubs offers ‘dog friendly karaoke’ (no, nor me) and there is an African/Caribbean coffee shop. I do not know when Nobia and Sons opened, but they have earned many friendly reviews over the last two and a half years. They sell the standard coffee and cakes but also offer Jollof rice, curry goat, jerk chicken and more. For a fleeting moment a second lunch seemed a good idea, then reality kicked in. Further down is a farmer’s market; it seems the only thing you cannot buy in the Horse Market is a horse.

Horse Market, the Market Cross and St Mary's Church

The octagonal market cross that we earlier circumnavigated was built in 1747 by wealthy wool merchant Thomas Breaks. The open ground floor was used by farmers selling butter, eggs and the like, while the upper storey has been variously used as a courtroom, gaol, fire station and town hall.

The principal modern use of the Grade 1 listed building, sometimes referred to by locals as ‘Breaks' Folly’ is as a traffic hazard. It reduces visibility for all drivers and is regularly clipped by HGVs making their way through the town (see the Teesdale Mercury. 2019).

St Mary's Parish Church, Barnard Castle

St Mary’s church dates from the early 12th century, the time Bernard de Balliol built the stone castle and gave his name to the town that would develop round it.

Like all old churches, there have been alterations and additions over the centuries, though most of what we can see is 14th century or earlier. The main exception is the tower that was rebuilt in 1873–74 as it was in danger of collapse.

The Parish Church of St Mary, Barnard Castle

Inside it has some odd features and at first sight appears to have been built backwards, but the pews do point in the usual direction.

Looking towards the west window, St Mary's Barnard Castle

There is a rather worn probably 14th century effigy of St Anthony and a boar. St Anthony, the patron saint of swineherds, is linked to the Augustinians, and an Augustinian friary was established in 1380 in Thorngate, just south of the castle and 250m from the church. No one knows what happened to the friary or whether it was ever fully established, but maybe the boar came to the church from there.

St Anthony and a Boar, St Mary's, Barnard Castle

The castle passed to the Duke of Gloucester, later Richard III, who also has the boar as his symbol. Under his patronage the church was enlarged, though the unusual flight of stairs up to the chancel was probably built later.

Steps up to the chancel, St Mary's Barnard Castle

In front of the steps is a stone arch with the sculpted head of Edward IV (Richard’s older brother) to the left….

Edward IV, St Mary's, Barnard Castle

…and Richard himself, as Duke of Gloucester, to the right. A hundred years later Shakespeare painted Richard III as a villain, but Shakespeare’s history plays never bothered too much with historical accuracy and Richard has been rehabilitated recently.

The Duke of Gloucester (later Richard III) St Mary's, Barnard Castle 

There is an enormous font from about the same time. A stool is provided for the priest to stand on while baptising children, but the diving board was removed in the 19th century. The letters and symbols carved round the edge have no known meaning.

Enormous font, St Mary's, Barnard Castle

Back to the Car and on to Alnwick

As we returned from the church it started to rain. At first the big, fat, lazy drops had space between them, but the further we walked the closer together the drops became and the harder and faster they fell. By the time we reached Morrisons, it was a torrential downpour, so we and a dozen others stood beneath their awning and waited. Rain that hard cannot last long, but as soon as it eased a new cloud cracked open and the intensity returned. After the third time this happened we ran for it.

Despite selecting ‘recommended route’ for the remainder of our journey to Alnwick, our SatNav chose the scenic route - at least as far as Newcastle and the A1. We crossed the bleak moorland of Teesdale and Weardale, which have their charms when you are pottering, but the narrow, meandering roads are frustrating when you have somewhere to go. One consolation of this diversion is that our route grazed the edge of the large village/small town of Stanhope. If other fans of Vera, the good-hearted but curmudgeonly detective who makes Morse look like a party animal, were wondering where she got her surname, they need wonder no more.

We reached Alnwick in the late afternoon, feeling that we should give Barnard Castle a proper visit one day soon.

Thank you for reading to the end. Your reward for doing so is the information that one 'fact' about St Mary's Church was invented by the author. But you knew that anyway.

Durham and the Angel of the North

One of Britain's Finest Medieval Cathedrals and an Awe-inspiring Modern Statue

Durham

County Durham

City of Durham

A rare visit, for us, to the north-east was occasioned by a social gathering in Stockton-On-Tees on Saturday. Having never been to Durham we thought a visit would make a pleasant starter to Saturday's main course.

With 80,000 inhabitants Durham is hardly a metropolis, but the old city, sitting on its hill within an incised meander of the River Wear, is tiny. A place of narrow lanes and old houses, it was not built with parking in mind, so we took advantage of Durham's efficient park and ride system.

The Market Square

The bus dropped us off a short walk from the market square, a pleasant flowery corner between the town hall and St Nicholas’ Church. The square was full of people in short sleeves so Lynne felt she needed a pullover and a fleece.

Durham Market Square

William Vane Tempest Stuart

The three statues in the square are all of some interest. By far the biggest is the equestrian statue of Charles William Vane Tempest Stewart (did he really need so many names?), the 3rd Marquess of Londonderry, a coal owner and the builder of Seaham Harbour. Completed in 1861, the story is told that the sculptor, Raphael Monti thought his work perfect until a blind man noticed that the horse had no tongue, whereupon a distraught Monti committed suicide. The story is more interesting than the somewhat routine statue, but happily for Monti it is entirely untrue.

Charles William Vane Tempest Stewart (to name but a few), Durham Market Square

Durham Light Infantry Memorial Stuart

The second statue is a memorial to those who fought and died as members of the Durham Light Infantry. On July 27th 1953 it was a bugler of the Durham Light Infantry who signalled the armistice in the Korean War. (As we well know from our visit to the Fatherland Liberation Museum in Pyongyang, it was an armistice not a peace treaty, the war continues.) The statue depicts that bugler.

Bugler, Durham Light Infantry, Durham Market Square

Statue of Neptune

The third is an eighteenth century statue of Neptune who stands over the outlet to a pipe that brought fresh water to the market square. Demeaning as it might be for the God of the Sea to stand over a mere water pipe, he was intended to promote a plan to turn Durham into an inland port by rerouting the River Wear. A brief glance at the relatively wide but shallow Wear suggests this plan would have been doomed to failure had it not been swiftly abandoned.

Neptune, Durham Market Square

At least the planners knew which river they were dealing with. Roger Whitaker in his 1969 hit clumsily entitled Durham Town (The Leaving) sang (link to Roger singing on YouTube)

When I was a boy, I spent my time,
Sitting on the banks of the River Tyne.
Watching all the ships going down the line, they were leaving,
Leaving, leaving, leaving, leaving me.

As a poet Roger Whitaker may not be in the same league as Rudyard Kipling, but both happily ignore geographical reality when it suits them (see The Road to Mandalay, Kipling's Version).

From the Market Square to the Cathdral

Sadler Street runs southeast off the market square. Unsurprisingly saddles were made here, but the end nearest the square, shown in the photograph, was once called Fleshergate and was home to the city's butchers. Knee deep in blood and entrails it could not have been a pleasant place.

Sadler Street, Durham

We walked south down Silver Street which drops and turns towards the 15th century Framwellgate Bridge. Just before the river an alley leads down to the 9 Altars Café, where sizeable baguettes filled with ham and mozzarella and bacon and melted cheddar provided us with a reasonably priced lunch. Café Nero, Costa Coffee and Starbucks are all nearby, but we chose to support an independent local business, and were glad we did.

Silver Street, Durham

From the end of the alley a footpath angles up sharply from the river. Turning through ‘Windy Gap’ we emerged onto Palace Green outside the cathedral. On a sunny day the green was covered with students, sitting in groups chatting or revising - though mainly chatting.

Durham Cathedral

The cathedral (along with the nearby castle a UNESCO world heritage site) is huge. Easily seen from miles away it is far too big to be satisfactorily photographed from the green. The castle belongs to Durham University and is sometimes open, but not when we were there.

Durham Cathedral from Palace Green, (I am not ignoring the castle completely, there is a photo later)

A modern copy of the sanctuary ring adorns the main door of the cathedral. Anyone accused of a crime could claim sanctuary by grasping the ring. This gave them 27 days to prepare their defence or to leave the country by the nearest available exit.

Lynne seeks sanctuary, Durham Cathedral

Although there are some later additions, most of the building was completed between 1093 and 1133. The pillars along the nave - ‘mixed and massive piles,’ according to Sir Walter Scott - are the stoutest we have seen since the Blue Mosque in Istanbul. Most are richly and differently decorated, as are the semi-circular Norman arches above. The ceiling is a fine example of medieval vaulting. As I overheard one of the guides saying, Durham Cathedral is like all of us in the northeast, solidly built to withstand the local climate and full of charm.

The Galilee Chaoel and the Venerable Bede

The Galilee Chapel is a 12th century extension at the western end of the church containing, among other things, the tomb of the Venerable Bede. You have to admire a man regarded by one and all as 'Venerable'. Among other works he wrote a 'History of the English Church and People,' the first book to use the AD dating system.

Bede died in 735 and was buried in Jarrow Abbey. After visitations from the Vikings his remains were moved to Durham in 1022 and placed in this shrine in 1370. Given that Jarrow Abbey had three hundred years under pressure from the Vikings to misplace his bones, and Durham Cathedral had another three hundred before they built the shrine, it is not unduly cynical to wonder how many, if any, of Bede’s bones are actually in it.

Bede's tomb, Durham Cathedral
Photograph by Robin Widdison, sourced from Wikipedia

Graffiti incised in one of the pillars looks 19th century. The authorities are stricter today and carefully enforce their ban on photography, so I have borrowed a couple of pictures from Wikipedia.

In front of the font a long slab of local Frosterly ‘marble’ - actually a black limestone - forms a line across the floor. Until the mid-16th century, the line marked the closest women were allowed to the altar.

The Cloister

From here we entered the cloister, passing a woman sporting a clerical collar. According to Samuel Johnson a woman preaching, like a dog walking on its hind legs is remarkable, not for doing it well, but for doing it at all. We should not judge the ever-quotable doctor too harshly, he was a man of his time, and at least it was a time when women were tolerated at the front of the church. Women priests are now a commonplace, and although all 80 Bishops of Durham from Aldhun in 995 to Paul Butler today have been men, it cannot be long before Durham has its first women bishop. At the end of the cloister is a café with another magnificently vaulted ceiling. In the café is a Lego model of the cathedral. Now there, Dr J, is something to marvel at, not because it was made well (though, to be fair, it is - as Lego models go) but because it was made at all.

Durham Cathedral from the cloister

The Nave and Choir

Back in the nave we saw Father Smith's Great Organ Case (make your own joke), a splendid 17th century clock and the Miner’s Memorial, placed here in 1947. The Book of Remembrance was open at the Easington Colliery disaster in 1951 when 83 miners were killed by underground explosions. County Durham is now green and pleasant, but for centuries coal mining scarred the landscape. Once the county’s major industry, the last pit closed in 1994.

There are many more tombs and statues, some of the older ones damaged in the Civil War or the Reformation.

The original Quire Stalls were replaced in 1660. The brochure calls the replacements 'finely carved'', I might call them 'fussy'. I am also not a fan of the 18th century 'Rose Window' on the east wall. Fine in itself, it does not seem at ease with its surroundings. The 1986 UNESCO citation describes Durham Cathedral as '… the largest and most perfect monument of 'Norman' style architecture in England’. And so it is; later work, though sometimes necessary, never quite grasps the medieval vision.

Durham cathedral nave and rose window
Photograph Oliver Bonjoch, sourced from Wikipedia 

The Shrine of St Cuthbert

Behind the altar is the Shrine of St Cuthbert. The greatest saint of northern England, Cuthbert was a monk who became bishop of the Holy Island of Lindisfarne. After his death in 687 Viking incursions ensured his relics led a peripatetic existence. In 995 monks carrying his remains were following two milkmaids searching for a dun cow. When they reached a peninsula in a loop of the River Wear the coffin became immoveable. Recognising a sign, they stopped and built a shrine which in time became a cathedral and the surrounding area became the city of Durham. Cynics might point out that high ground almost completely surrounded by water is a strong defensive position, and this may have influenced the choice of location. A site of pilgrimage throughout the middle ages, the shrine was destroyed during the Reformation, but restored in 1542. It remains a place of pilgrimage, quiet reflection and prayer.

Shrine of St Cuthbert, Durham Cathedral
Photograph JBA Hamilton, sourced from Wikipedia

Behind St Cuthbert is the Chapel of the 9 Altars, which may be only of specialist interest but explains the name of the café where we had lunch.

A Wearside Path back to the Framwellgate Bridge

Outside the cathedral we walked through the old streets and down to the river at the end of the peninsula. Many of the buildings are owned by Durham University and the large number of young people among the old buildings gives them life and stops the place becoming a museum.

Walking down to the river, Durham

At the end of the road we crossed the Wear and walked beside the river on the sort of country path that should not exist in a city, but thankfully does. The path gives the best views of the imposing bulk of the cathedral, which probably looks better without the spire digitally added between the towers when the cathedral posed as Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Us, the River Wear and Durham Cathedral

Returning to tarmac, the Framwellgate Bridge gives the best view the castle.

Lynne on Framwellgate Bridge with Durham Castle behind

Gilesgate, Claypath and the Bistro Italiano

A bus carried us out to our car, and we drove back into the city to the Travelodge. Later a walk down Gilesgate and Claypath showed that even outside the old centre Durham is a city of charm and antiquity. I particularly liked the terraced town houses in Gilesgate, each painted in a different pastel colour. The effect maybe spoiled by the parked cars outside, but the residents have to put their cars somewhere and garages were not in the builders' minds two hundred years ago.

Gilesgate, Durham

Stepping into the Bistro Italiano on Claypath transported us from northeast England to a surprisingly successful facsimile of generic Italy. The Bistro had been recommended to us by friends Brian and Hilary, and I happily pass the recommendation on. We ate well at a reasonable price.

The Angel of the North

The following morning, with a little spare time we made the fifteen minute drive to see the Angel of the North beside the A1 on the outskirts of Gateshead.

The Angel of the North

Controversial during planning and building – it was completed in 1998 at the cost of £1 million - the 20m tall Angel is now a source of local pride. When asked 'why an Angel?' sculptor Anthony Gormley said 'because nobody has seen one and we have to keep imagining them,' which sounds good to me. Weighing 200t and with a 35m wing span he stands in a exposed location where winds of 160kph are not unknown and is anchored to the rock 20m below by 600t of concrete. Traditionally in County Durham much of what is important is beneath the earth.

Lynne sits at the feet of the Angel of the North

The car park is a little behind the Angel and, not for the first time, I found viewing a sculpture from this angle to be instructive. From the front he is stylised, from behind the contours of the Angel’s body are remarkably lifelike.

The Angel of the North

On so on to Stockton and a convivial lunch, afternoon and evening, thank you Richard & Jacqui