Memorials of old Durham

by Unknown

The appearance of this brownie seems to have been confused with another ghost.

The apparition of a boy who was killed by one of the Barons often used to be seen—sometimes, it is said, with his head under his arm.

A Baron of Hilton, many years ago, ordered his horse to be got ready. He was a passionate man, and a fearsome one to cross. The stable-boy foolishly fell asleep. For awhile the lord waited for his horse, and then, in a lively temper, went off to the stable and found the sleeping boy. He struck the boy with a hay-fork and killed him there and then. Horrified at what he had done, he covered the body with straw till night, and then threw it into a pond at the south side of the park, where, many years afterwards, the skeleton of a boy was discovered. So runs the legend.

It is interesting to note that a boy named Roger Skelton was killed by Robert Hilton, a brother of the then Baron, in July, 1609.[7]

There was a haunted room in the castle called the "cau’d lad’s room," which was never used. Here, it is said, the spirit of the murdered boy made its residence. For many years there has been no appearance of the ghost, though there are persons who affirm that, if they have not actually seen it, they have heard it about the castle.

The Lambton Worm.

In Plantagenet days the Lord of Lambton had a godless son, who desecrated the Sabbath by fishing in the Wear, and while so doing he hooked a strange worm with nine breathing-holes on either side of its throat. This queer find he threw into a well near by, since known as "the Worm Well," and here the worm grew until it was too large for the well. It then emerged, and betook itself by day to the river, where it lay coiled round a rock in the middle of the stream, and by night to a neighbouring hill, round whose base it would twine itself. Meanwhile it continued to grow so fast that it soon could encircle the hill three times. This hill, which is on the north side of the Wear, and about a mile and a half from old Lambton Hall, is oval in shape and still called the Worm Hill. In the meantime the heir of Lambton had turned over a new leaf, and departed as a Crusader to the Holy Land. The worm still grew, and came daily ravaging for food. The milk of nine cows hardly sufficed it for a meal, and if this were not forthcoming it slayed both man and beast. Many knights tried their prowess against the worm, but with no avail, for no sooner was the worm cut in two than the pieces grew together again. The poor Lord of Lambton was in sore trouble when, after seven long years, the heir of Lambton returned home, a much sadder and wiser man. Seeing the result of his former evil practices, he determined to kill the enormous beast. Several attempts he made without success, because the parts would come together whenever he cut it in two. At last he consulted a witch of the neighbourhood, and she told him if he came to the fight clothed in armour studded with razors, and stood in the swift stream, he would conquer; but that he, like Jephthah, must kill the first living creature that met him after the victory. So to meet this latter difficulty he told his old father to listen, and when he gained the victory he would blow three notes upon his bugle, then his father was to loosen his favourite greyhound, which would come to the bugle’s call.

Having made all preparations, the heir started on his mission. Standing in midstream, he waited the onset of the worm. It came, and seeing its enemy, wound itself about him; but as it tightened its hold, the razors cut it into many pieces, which, falling into the water, were swept away by the current, and so were unable to grow together again. Thus the victory was won, and the bugle sounded; but the old lord, overjoyed at the thought of his son’s victory, forgot to let loose the hound, and ran himself to meet the conqueror. Here now arose a difficulty; the son would not be a parricide. He went again to the witch, and she told him that the only alternative was the doom that none of his family should die a peaceful death, to the seventh, or some say the ninth, generation. Tradition sayeth that this alternative was accepted, and that no head of the family died on his bed for several centuries after.

There are two stone figures of some antiquity preserved at Lambton Castle. One of these is apparently an effigy of our hero in the middle of the fray, only the worm has ears, legs, and a pair of wings. The other figure is a female one, and marked by no very characteristic features.

The Sockburn Worm.