June 2003
Parish
History Episode 26
THE RETREAT OF THE SCOTS
The men of Yorkshire had inflicted a great defeat
upon the Scottish army in 1138, at the Battle of the Standard, fought
at Northallerton. But at the end of that year Northumberland and Durham
were still firmly in Scottish hands, though con¬tinuing exactions
by King David's brutal troopers were turning the population against
their new rulers. The King himself remained in Durham, negotiating
with the Bishop, offering to restore the castles at Norham and elsewhere
to episcopal control, in return for the Bishop of Durham acknowledging
the overlordship of the King of Scotland.
Then in 1140 Geoffrey Rufus, the Bishop, died, and
King David took steps to ensure that he was succeeded by a more accommodating
priest, a man called Cumin, of Norman origin, but of long residence
in Scotland, employed until then as a clerk of senior rank in the
King's Chancery. He was consecrated by other Scottish bishops and
brought to Durham in time to celebrate Christmas in the new cathedral
there, in the presence of the King. The Prior and monks of Durham
were furious at this violation of the right that they claimed, when
a vacancy arose in the See, to elect whomsoever they chose to be their
bishop. This infringement of protocol was to prove the final straw
that would bring Durham out into open revolt against the Scots. Early
in 1141 the monks elected William of St. Barbe, probably one of their
number, to be their bishop. He seems to have travelled to York, and
to have been consecrated by Archbishop Thurston, before returning
to Durham, where he took up residence in St,. Giles' church, which
he fortified, and William and his men faced Cumin and his Scots, holding
the Cathedral and Castle of Durham, across the Wear. At one stage,
the "Williamites" even engaged the services of a skilled
military engineer who had served in the Crusades, and this engineer
constructed a catapult which was meant to be capable of projecting
stone boulders right across the valley of the Wear, from Gilesgate
Hill to Cathedral Hill, and was said to be capable of destroying both
Durham Castle and Cathedral. The infernal machine was tested, and,
fortunately, was found to be incapable of living up to the manufacturer's
"blurb". (Even in those days, the search for Weapons of
Mass Destruction often proved elusive).
While Cumin seems to have enjoyed some support amongst
the Norman lords in the Palatinate (including, perhaps, the le Springs),
he relied principally on the swords of his Scotsmen, and this tended
to alienate him from the people towards whom he was meant to be extending
both feudal protection and pastoral care. William of St. Barbe had,
of course, the support of other Norman lords, of whom the most notable
was Sir Roger Conyers of Sockburn, famous for his faulchion, a curious
short-bladed sword, with a straight back and a curved cutting edge,
said to be of Saracen origin.
The Sockburn Peninsula, where Sir Roger had his castle,
is larger and less steep than the Durham Peninsula, but like Durham
it is almost entirely surrounded by loops of a river, in this case
the Tees. There, in Sockburn Castle, the Conyers family would dwell
tax-free, until the ending, in 1836, of the palatine powers of the
Prince-Bishops of Durham, a concession granted presumably in gratitude
for Sir Roger's support for Bishop William.
Another memento of the way that the Bishops of Durham
were, at this period, dependent on the loyalty and courage of the
Conyers family can be seen in the library of Durham Cathedral, where
Sir Roger's falchion (or is it a replica?) still hangs - except during
an episcopal vacancy, when it is returned to Sockburn, to be presented
anew to the incoming bishop, as he crosses the Tees, after his consecration,
usually at York.
The memory of this civil war having long faded, popular
tradition claims that the falchion was the sword used by Sir John
Conyers (a hero unknown to serious history) to slay a monster, known
as the Sockburn Worm, which dwelt in the Tees, and which was prone
to devastating the countryside on either bank of that river. This
tale seems remarkably similar to that of the Awful Lambton Worm, and
the hero himself seems to be made in the tradition of that bold crusading
knight Sir John Lambton ( and it must be admitted that there isn't
a great deal of written evidence for the existence of our "Bold
Sir John" either ). Of course, Tees-siders claim that the Sockburn
Worm is the origin of the tale of the Lambton Worm. But we on Wearside
know better.
The war between the two rival bishops - Cumin and
William - dragged on for three years, from 1141 to 1144, with William
of St. Barbe eventually prevailing. This was possibly due less to
Sir Roger's skill with the falchion than to a growing revulsion on
the part of the people of the Palatinate against the behaviour of
Cumin's Scottish soldiery, an ill-disciplined band of predatory scavengers.
It must have been with great delight that the people of the land heard,
in 1144, that King David had withdrawn across the Tyne, and had abandoned
County Durham. Cumin fled with him, and now William of St. Barbe was
the sole bishop.
Quite a few of the Norman lords left with Cumin, and
this may well have included the le Spring family, who seem to fade
out of sight in the middle of the Twelfth Century. The obvious inference
is that they had retreated Northwards with the Scots, having sworn
allegiance to Bishop Cumin and King David. We hear of them again from
time to time, down to the Fourteenth Century when there is a record
of one Sir John le Spring being murdered in a blood-feud, but according
to "the Boldon Book" (the inventory of economic wealth within
the Prince-Bishopric, which would be compiled by Bishop Hugh de Puiset
after the war, to be described in next month's article), the manor
and lordship farm of Houghton-le-Spring were in the hands of the bishop's
bailiffs, which suggests that the le Springs had either abandoned
their inheritance, or been evicted. The same fate seem to have befallen
the original lords of Washington, across the River Wear from us. The
Boldon Book informs us that William of Hartburn (a village now absorbed
into Stockton-on-Tees) had exchanged that manor for the manor of Washington.
It will be the descendants of this William of Hartburn who will take
the surname Washington for themselves, and it will be from them that
George Washington, the rebel captain who will, six centuries later,
defeat the British and create the U.S.A., would be descended.
These fleeing lords left behind a war-ravaged countryside.
It is impossible to say what the situation was in Houghton when Bishop
William's forces finally occupied this area, but it is likely that
the village had been destroyed, the people killed or fled, and the
recently-built church left in ruins. The same thing seems to have
happened in nearby villages such as Easington and Dalton-le-Dale.
In each of these villages, the present church building dates back
to Norman times, but the church seems to have fallen into ruin during
the middle Twelfth Century, and then to have been rebuilt in the second
half of the century, but in each village alike a part of the original
structure was preserved and incorporated into the present building.
As Houghton, Easington and Dalton all lay in the area of East Durham
reported to have been devastated by the Scots, the conclusion we are
likely to draw is that the churches, and presumably the whole communities,
in these parishes had been destroyed in the fighting, and were then
rebuilt a generation or so later, as stability and prosperity returned
to the region. The incorporation of fragments of Norman work in all
three churches might also suggest reconstruction after the accidental
or deliberate destruction of the earlier churches, having perhaps
been burned down, perhaps by lightning or by human carelessness, or
perhaps incinerated by Scottish raiders. After all, if the older churches
had been deliberately demolished in order to build, on the same site,
new places of worship in a newer style, one would expect that all
of the old structure would have been pulled down. The fact that the
North wall of the chancel of Houghton church did come to be incorporated
into the new church suggests that it was standing as a noble ruin,
a reminder of happier, pre-war days, a reminder, perhaps, of spiritual
giants, real or imagined, who had worshipped God within those walls
in former times; and perhaps the builders wished to preserve them,
as an inspiration to the men of their own generation. It was a similar
principle, perhaps, to that which led Norman-French priests to dedicate
new churches rising at this period at Hartlepool and Darlington to
old Anglian saints such as Hilda and Cuthbert.
But by the 1190's, when the renewed churches at Houghton,
Easington and Dalton were coming to completion, it was half a century
since King David's War. Had the destruction been that fierce that
Houghton and much beside had lain in ruins for fifty years? Again,
had the well-built, little Norman church of Saint Michael and All
Angels suffered but little damage during the wars, and had it rather
been the population which the church was intended to serve which had
been wiped out by the wars, and the old church had stood, neglected
and empty, like a church in a Highland glen after the population had
been removed to Canada during "the Clearances"? And had
damp and decay then entered the church, and allowed the building to
sink into ruin?
We do not know the answers to these questions. But
we do know of the existence of a priest from Houghton called Rogerus,
who signs a document in 1147. This obviously suggests some continuity,
though we do not know whether or not Rogerus was residing in Houghton
when he signed that document at Durham: he may have been a refugee
from his parish at the time - we do not know.