The Lambton Worm

The Lambton Worm is a County Durham legend about the young heir of Lambton, who fishes a strange worm out of the River Wear on a Sunday and later has to kill the monster it grows into. Because he breaks the vow made before the fight, a curse falls on nine generations of his family.

Also known as: The Worm of Lambton

Country
United Kingdom
Period
said to be about the 14th century

Long ago (some tellers say in the fourteenth century) the young heir of Lambton lived a careless, irreverent life and gave no thought to what he owed either to God or to the people around him. Instead of going to mass, he spent his Sunday mornings fishing in the Wear, while the servants and tenants filed past on their way to the chapel of Brugeford. One Sunday he cast again and again and caught nothing, and he swore about it so loudly that the churchgoers were shocked.

Then the line suddenly pulled tight. Sure that a big fish had taken the bait at last, he fought to land it, and pulled out nothing but an ugly worm on the hook. In disgust he wrenched it free and tossed it into a nearby well, known from then on as the Worm Well. He had barely cast his line again when a dignified old stranger came by and asked how the fishing was going. In Henderson's telling the heir answered, “Why, truly, I think I have caught the devil himself.” The stranger peered into the well and said he had never seen anything like it. It looked like an eft, a small newt, except for the nine holes along each side of its mouth, and he did not think it meant anything good.

Nobody gave it another thought until the worm grew too big for the well and crawled out. It spent its days wound round a rock in midstream and its nights curled about the foot of a hill on the north bank, and it grew so fast that before long it could wrap itself three times round that hill. The place has been called Worm Hill ever since. Soon the whole district lived in dread of it. Cows were drained of their milk, cattle were harried and lambs eaten, and the farms on its side of the river were stripped bare.

By then the heir had changed. Ashamed of his old life, he had gone to fight in a distant war, leaving his elderly father alone at Lambton Hall. When the worm crossed the Wear and headed for the hall, the frightened household met to decide what to do. The old steward suggested filling the great trough in the courtyard with milk. The worm drank it and went back quietly to its hill. The next day it came again, and the trough was filled again. It took the milk of nine cows to fill it, and whenever the measure fell short, the worm flew into a rage, wrapping its tail round the trees in the park and wrenching them out of the ground, roots and all.

Knights came from across the North to fight it, and every one of them failed, because whenever the worm was cut in two, the pieces joined up again. After many had been hurt or killed, it was left alone on its hill.

Seven years later the heir came home, older and more serious, to find his family's lands laid waste, his tenants ruined and his father worn out with worry. Before resting, he crossed the river to look at the worm curled round the foot of the hill. Then he went to a wise woman for advice. At first she only scolded him for bringing this curse on his home, but when she saw that he truly regretted it, she told him what to do. He was to stud his best coat of mail with spearheads and stand on the rock in the middle of the Wear, trusting in Providence and his sword. Before the fight, though, he had to vow that if he won, he would kill the first living thing he met on his way home. If he failed to keep that vow, no lord of Lambton would die in his bed for nine generations.

The heir, now a knight, made the vow in Brugeford chapel, fixed the sharpest spearheads to his armour and took his stand on the rock. At its usual hour the worm uncoiled and set off towards the hall, passing close by. He struck its head; unhurt but angered, it threw its coils around him to crush him. But every time it tightened its grip, the spikes hurt it more, and once it had weakened he cut it in two with his sword. The current carried one half away, the pieces could not join again, and the worm was finished.

At the hall, everyone had stayed indoors to pray. The plan was that the knight would sound his bugle if he won: his father would know he was safe, and the servants would let loose a favourite hound so that it would be the first creature to reach him. But at the sound of the bugle the old lord, overjoyed that his son was alive, forgot the plan entirely, hurried out of the hall and ran to throw his arms around him. The knight could not raise his hand against his father. In desperation he sounded the bugle a second time; the hound was released and ran to him, and he killed it. It made no difference. The first living thing to meet him had been his father, so the vow was broken, and for nine generations no lord of Lambton would die in his bed.

Origin and context

This retelling follows William Henderson's Notes on the Folk-Lore of the Northern Counties of England and the Borders (1879), chapter VIII, pages 287–292. Henderson did not collect the story himself. He explains that about thirty years before he wrote, Sir Cuthbert Sharpe, a friend of the historian Surtees and his assistant on the History of the Palatinate, gathered every detail he could from old residents around Lambton and printed it in the Bishoprick Garland, a little collection of Durham legends, songs and ballads issued in only 150 copies. Henderson drew freely on that rare book. He sets the scene on the Wear, north of Lumley, and describes Worm Hill as an oval hill on the north side of the river, about a mile and a half from old Lambton Hall. The date he leaves vague: “some say about the fourteenth century”, and he admits it is uncertain. The Lambton family is real; Henderson calls it very ancient, with a pedigree reaching back to the twelfth century. Sharpe added an entry from an old manuscript pedigree naming John Lambton, “that slewe ye worme”, as a knight of Rhodes. Henderson notes that nine generations lead from that knight to an eighteenth-century Lambton who died in 1761, and that local people watched to see whether the curse would hold to the end; his own mother passed on her mother's memory of the long, anxious wait and the awe that followed.

Characters

  • The heir of Lambton: A careless young heir who fishes up the worm one Sunday, later comes home from the wars, kills it in spiked armour and breaks his vow. An old manuscript pedigree names the worm-slayer John Lambton.
  • The worm: A creature fished out of the Wear that grows into a monster. It coils round Worm Hill, must be given the milk of nine cows every day and can join itself together again after being cut in two.
  • The old stranger: A dignified old man passing by, who looks into the well, likens the creature to an eft with nine holes on each side of its mouth and doubts that it means anything good.
  • The old lord of Lambton: The heir's father, left alone at Lambton Hall. When he hears the bugle he forgets the plan and runs out to embrace his son, becoming the first living thing to meet him.
  • The old steward: A servant at Lambton Hall, a man of years and experience, who suggests filling the courtyard trough with milk to keep the worm quiet.
  • The wise woman: She scolds the heir, then has him stud his armour with spearheads and vow to kill the first living thing he meets on his way home, or no lord of Lambton will die in his bed for nine generations.
  • The hound: A favourite dog chosen to be the first creature to meet the victorious knight. He kills it after his father's embrace, but too late to keep the vow.

Versions of the legend

A soldier abroad, a crusader or a knight of Rhodes

Henderson's main account says only that the repentant heir went off to the wars in a distant country. He then adds that some authorities have him sailing as a crusader to the Holy Land. The old manuscript pedigree quoted by Sharpe gives yet another label, calling the worm-slayer a knight of Rhodes.

The fight as a local poet saw it

At the moment of combat Henderson breaks off his prose to quote lines by an unnamed local poet. The verses add touches the prose never mentions: the worm speeds down the middle of the stream like a streak of living light, the water around it glows in rainbow colours, the rock shakes as if in an earthquake when the worm strikes, and flakes of fire fall around the knight, who holds his ground even though, the poet admits, his blood runs cold.

A worm with ears, legs and wings

Henderson mentions two old stone figures that had stood until recently at Lambton Castle. One seemed to show the hero, with studded armour, sword and defeated monster just as the story describes, except that the carved worm has ears, legs and even a pair of wings. The other was a female figure without clear features; Henderson suggests, cautiously, that it might have been meant for the wise woman. He also notes that the trough said to have held the worm's daily milk was still shown at Lambton Hall, and that Surtees remembered being shown there, when young, a piece of tough material like bull's hide, presented as part of the worm's skin.

Meaning and symbolism

Henderson does not interpret the Lambton story on its own, but in the review that closes his chapter on worms and dragons (pages 302–303) he weighs the explanations offered for such tales. Some writers, he reports, saw the dragon as a disguised memory of a cruel tyrant; others as a recollection of huge real animals that once threatened people; others as pure allegory of the struggle between good and evil. Henderson himself thought the last two views could be held together: the story expresses the victory of truth over error, while the monster's shape is borrowed from huge animals that were once far more familiar to people than they are now. He also explains the local word: in the North of England dragons were called worms, from the Norse ormr, a serpent or dragon. Within the tale itself, the wise woman blames the heir for bringing the scourge on his home and helps him only once she sees that he is truly sorry; even so, the broken vow leaves his family paying a price.

Can you visit the place?

The National Trust's Lambton Worm walk at Penshaw Monument turns the story into a trail. According to the Trust's page, it is a moderate route of 11 stages and 2.6 miles (4.16 km), taking about an hour and a half, that starts and finishes at the bottom of Penshaw Hill, just off the A183. The Trust mentions free parking off Chester Road (A183) and limited parking at the foot of the hill. The route climbs Penshaw Hill, where a nearby viewpoint may give a glimpse of the top of Lambton Castle among the trees, then passes through the village of Cox Green and follows a riverside path along the Wear. It includes steps, stiles, slopes and uneven ground, and dogs must be kept on a lead where livestock is grazing. The trail places the worm's coils around Penshaw Hill, adding that some people believe it was Worm Hill in nearby Fatfield instead. Henderson names Worm Hill but not Fatfield; the Tyne and Wear Historic Environment Record (no. 7852) lists Worm Hill at Fatfield and links it to the legend, while noting that some connect the story with Penshaw Hill. Check the Trust's page for current details before setting out.

Sources

  1. Notes on the Folk-Lore of the Northern Counties of England and the Borders, William Henderson (appendix S. Baring-Gould) (1879). Passage: ch. VIII, pp. 287-292 'The Lambton Worm'. Read the source. Licence: public domain.

Henderson (1879), ch. VIII, pp. 287–292: the Lambton Worm, based on Sir Cuthbert Sharpe's account in the Bishoprick Garland; the dragon chapter opens on p. 281, and its closing review discusses interpretations on pp. 302–303.

Henderson (1879), p. 230: the Worm Well at Lambton is listed among the northern wishing wells where a crooked pin was dropped into the water.