A LEGEND
To those of you who are not fortunate enough to live in Heaven on Earth, the Glorious North of England, it’s not your fault. I forgive you !


This is a tale from medieval times about dragons and witches and curses. Place – next door to me.
It takes place on the Lambton Estate on the River Wear.

THE LAMBTON WURM

[Wurm – a norse word meaning dragon]
Outline : The son of Lord Lambton, John, was a rebel who used to sneak out of going to church on Sunday to go fishing in the river. One day, while setting up his rod, he is warned by a mysterious old man that no good can come from missing church. John catches nothing until the time the church service ends, then he catches a strange creature about three feet long with holes on each side of its head. The old man re-appears and John tells him that he has caught the devil and decides to throw it down a nearby well. The old man gives dire warnings about the beast.
John forgets all about the creature and grows up.
As a penance for his earlier rebellious years, he joins the crusades. The wurm grows extremely large, poisons the well, and begins to take livestock. It coils itself ten times around a local hill.
[Aside : I have climbed this hill and it does have ten concentric grooves around it. –Spooky eh.]
Anyway the wurm terrorises the area, eating sheep, preventing cows from giving milk and snatching small children. Brave villagers try to kill it but are themselves killed. Visiting knights also try but again to no avail. Every piece they chop off just re-attaches itself. It then heads to Lambton Castle [ if you travel North past Houghton le-Spring, you pass Lambton Castle on the A1M – this is not a made up story !]
The old, ailing Lord Lambton manages to placate the best with a daily offering of the milk from nine good cows.

After seven years John returns from the crusades to find the estate almost destitute because of the wurm. He decides to fight but first consults a witch near Durham [HOORAY FOR OUR SIDE !] The witch encourages John and offers some advice.
“Cover you armour in spearheads and fight it in the river but, be warned, after you kill it you must then kill the first living thing you see or nine generations of your family will die badly.”
John prepares his armour and tells his father that after he kills the wurm, he will blow his hunting horn three times. On this signal, his father will release John’s favourite hound so that it will run straight to John who will kill it and so avoid the curse.

So to battle. John fights the wurm in the river. The worm tries to crush him in its coils but cuts itself on the spearheads. As pieces are chopped off, the river washes them away so the wurm cannot heal itself. Eventually the wurm is dead and John blows his horn. Unfortunately, his father is so excited that he forgets to release the hound and rushes straight to John. John cannot bear to kill his own father so, later, they kill the hound. But too late, and nine generations are cursed and do not die peacefully in their beds.
The first, second and third generations died in battle, and the ninth was thrown from his horse while crossing the bridge over the river.

The legend was made into a song written in 1867 by C.M. Leumane. It has to be sung in local dialect, so here goes – turn up your volume and feel free to join in.
[if you just read it, it will be incomprehensible. Speak out loud and it will make perfect sense]

One Sunday mornin’ Lambton went a-fishing in the Wear;
An’ catched a fish upon he’s heuk he thowt leuk’t vary queer.
But whatt’n a kind ov fish it was Young Lambton cudden’t tell –
He waddn’t fash te carry’d hyem so he hoyed it doon a well

Chorus
Whisht ! lads, haad yor gobs,
An aa’ll tell ye aall an aaful story,
Whissht ! lads, haad yor gobs,
An Aall tel ye boot the wurm.

Noo Lambton felt inclined te gan an fight I’ foreign wars.
He joined a troop ov Knights that cared for nowther woonds nor scors,
An off he went to Palestine where queer things him befell,
An varry seun forgat aboot the queer wurm I’ the well.

[my spell checker is having a nervous breakdown !]

But t’ wurm got fat an’ growed an’ growed, An growed an aaful size :
He’d greet big teeth, a greet big gob, an greet big goggle eyes.
An’ when at neets he craaled aboot te pick up bits of news,
If he felt dry upon the road, he milked a dozen coos

This fearful wurm would often feed on calves an’ lambs an’ sheep,
An’ swally little bairns alive when they laid doon te sleep.
An’ when he’d eaten all he cud an’ he had had he’s fill,
He craaled away an’ lapped he’s tail ten times roond Pensher Hill.

The news ov this myest aaful wurm an’ his queer gannins on
Seun crossed the seas, te the ears ov brave and bowld Sor John,
So hame he cam an’ catched the beast and cut ‘im in twe halves,
An’ that seun stopped hes eating bairns an’ sheep an’ lambs an’ calves

So noo ye knaa aall foaks on byeth sides ov the Wear
Lost lots o’ sheep an’ lots o’ sleep and leeved i’ mortal feor.
So let’s hev one te brave Sor John that kept the bairns frae harm,
Saved coos an’ calves by myekin halves o’ famis Lambton Wurm.

There ! Did you enjoy that ? The knight in shining armour kills fierce dragon but no damsel sorry to say.

I remember this story from my youth it is an interesting story i feel i must seek out the hill now lol and see the 10 grooves for myself

Seek no more !