Penshaw Monument

Lambton Worm : The Worm of Worm Hill
Penshaw Hill and Worm Hill across the Wear at Fatfield are closely associated with one of the North East’s best known folk tales – The Legend of the Lambton Worm. Worm Hill is a rather peculiar hump-shaped feature at the top of the bank close to the river and in earlier centuries it was considered something of a mysterious curiosity.

Whisht ! lads, haad yer gobbs,
An’ aa’l tell yer aa’l an aaful story,
Whisht ! lads, haad yer gobbs
An’ aa’ll tell yer boot the worm.

The medieval hero of the Worm Hill legend was a certain young man called John Lambton (said to be John Lambton, a knight of Rhodes in the 1400s) who on a particularly chilly Sunday morning decided to go fishing in the River Wear rather than attend the local church. His truancy was rather a waste of time, as he did not have a very successful morning’s sport.

Worm Hill near Fatfield
Worm Hill near Fatfield, Washington : Photo © David Simpson
The only thing he succeeded in catching, other than perhaps a cold, was a tiny worm-like creature which he despondently threw into a nearby well, before returning home for lunch. In later life John Lambton became a knight and crusader and left England to fight in the Middle East, where he soon forgot about the strange little worm caught on that otherwise uneventful Sunday morning.

Unbeknown to John, while he was away abroad, the tiny creature had grown into an enormous hideous serpent that began to terrorise the local neighbourhood from its lair at Worm Hill near the banks of the Wear. It is said that the worm would feed off the udders of cows and swallow little children alive. After feasting it would fall asleep and lazily lap its tail around Worm Hill.

Naturally, many attempts were made to slaughter the beast, but even when it was cut into pieces the parts rejoined and the worm remained alive. John Lambton, perhaps feeling responsible for the activities of the worm, decided to return home to England, where he consulted the advice of a wise old witch. He asked her how he should go about killing such a creature.

The old lady explained that the only way to kill the beast was by standing in the middle of the River Wear, wearing a suit of armour coated with blades of steel and wait patiently for the worm to arrive. However, a warning was given to Lambton, that upon defeating the worm, he must then kill the first living thing he set eyes upon. If he failed to follow the wise woman’s instructions he was warned that a curse would be placed upon nine generations of the Lambtons so that none would die in their bed.

River Wear at low tide, Fatfield
River Wear at low tide, Fatfield with Penshaw Hill in the distance : Photo © David Simpson
Lambton, obeying the words of the old lady put on the appropriate armour and reluctantly instructed his father to send out one of the family hounds, so he could complete the deed in accordance with her wishes. Making his way to the banks of the Wear he stood in the centre of the river, where he didn’t have to wait for long.

The worm came darting towards its adversary of long ago and proceeded to viciously wrap itself around the armoured knight. After a short struggle the creature was gradually sliced up into many tiny pieces by the steel blades of Lambton’s armour. Bit by bit each piece of the worm was carried away by the current of the river before they had time to rejoin.

At last the worm was dead. The victorious but exhausted Lambton, made his way back to the bank of the river, remembering that he must now kill the first living thing he set eyes upon. As he emerged from the river he looked up with shock and horror to see his excited father, who had evidently forgotten the hound. Lambton could not kill his own Dad!

There is good reason to believe that the story of the appearance of the excited father that followed Lambton’s worm-slaying victory may have inspired this particular verse of Lewis Carroll’s Jabberwock poem:

“And hast thou slain
the Jabberwock
Come to me my beamish boy !
O’ frabjuous day
Callooh ! Callay !”
He chortled in his joy.

So would the Lambton curse prove true ? Well history seems to suggest it did. Several Lambtons met violent deaths and indeed one General Lambton, confined to his bed by a terrible illness, pleaded and pleaded with his servants “please, please release me, let me go”. When they finally lifted him from his bed – he died. A shocking and surprising twist, but one of many twists in the tale of the Lambton Worm.

The origins of the Lambton Worm story are something of a mystery. Although it is set at the time of Crusades, it is known that worms (wyverns, dragons, serpents) are an important part of Anglo-Saxon and Norse mythology. One theory has suggested that the Lambton Worm legend is an allusion to some long-forgotten invasion by an army or party of roving Viking warriors who sailed down the Wear to Fatfield reaching close to the point where the river is no longer tidal. The slicing of the worm into pieces could refer to the Anglo-Saxon defenders splitting and isolating various sections of the raiding swarm of Vikings.

The association with Worm Hill on the banks of the River Wear in the Fatfield area may add further support to this theory as this glacial hill up at the top of the river bank could have provided a good site for a riverside encampment that may have been used by an invading Viking army. In fact in times past historians believed it was a man-made camp constructed by the Danes.
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