ARTICLE: An Ode to Barnard Castle

Because the town deserves better than an attachment to a lame politician

What to do for election day. I have no interest in adding to the litany of political drivel coming from all sides. Given that politicians are w*nkers and I’m tired of hearing from them, or about them, I thought I’d mock one instead. I’ve decided to dedicate today’s article to the lovely people of Barnard Castle by talking about notable locals who aren’t the arse politician who drove 500 miles for a made-up eye test (with his wife) during Covid when you weren’t supposed to be ten miles beyond your driveway. It might have been less ridiculous if he wasn’t a leading henchman for the government making the rules up at the time. Dominic Cummings may have brought the town recent notoriety, but he’s just about the least interesting of all the rabbit holes I have been down for this one…

---

Eric Bloodaxe

Legend has it that on some high ground just outside Barnard Castle there is a viking king buried in a lay-by. Well, at some point he might have been under a stone that sits there but, apparently, said stone has been moved. Eric Bloodaxe deserves his name. The son of a king in Norway, he had four of his brothers killed to get to the crown, but by the 947 he had been overthrown by yet another brother and run away to our little island. Here he was proclaimed King of Northumbria and based at York. Apparently, he was a complete pig, and within a decade an Anglo-Saxon king named Eadred had invaded Northumbria and was laying waste to Eric’s realm. They smashed the place up a bit and then made for home, but the people of Northumbria were in no way impressed by the drama. They booted Eric off his throne and picked a man named Olaf (I see a singing snowman but he was apparently another viking from Dublin) as his replacement. Eric did put up a fight. He took back power, but in 954 Eadred was back.

A coin from the reign of Eric (Wikipedia)

---