Bulmer's
Stone
A
large square-shaped boulder of granite mounted on an iron shelf
behind railings between the pavement and Central House. An
information board recording its history is located on the wall
behind.
Darlington's oldest monument is a boulder of granite which bears neither plaque nor ornament and commemorates no individual person or event. The locally well-known street feature is said to have drifted here some 12,000 years ago.(1) Like other erratics at Piercebridge and Whitby, it originates more than 70 miles away in Shap and geologists suppose that it was brought here by glacial movement during the Great Ice Age.(2) There are those who believe that the town of Darlington was built around the ancient stone and legend has it that it turns around nine times when it hears the clock strike twelve.(3) One story is that George Stephenson and Nicholas Wood sat on the stone to tie their boots, having walked from Stockton to Darlington barefoot. For centuries the boulder was a significant local landmark, occupying as it did, a prominent position on Northgate's pavement, in close proximity to the road. Once called the 'Battling Stone', for a time it was used by weavers to flax their yarn. In the nineteenth century Willy Bulmer, Darlington's unofficial town crier, read the London news standing from the boulder and it is probably from him that it derives its name.(4) In 1923 its landmark status diminished when it was moved just 6 yards. Deemed a traffic hazard the stone was 'imprisoned' back from the road, behind iron railings and in the shadow of the Technical College. Outraged Darlingtonians wrote to the local paper in protest, some declaring that it was 'desecration' and 'vandalism' to move the stone from the spot where it had stood for many thousands of years.(5)
Darlington's oldest monument is a boulder of granite which bears neither plaque nor ornament and commemorates no individual person or event. The locally well-known street feature is said to have drifted here some 12,000 years ago.(1) Like other erratics at Piercebridge and Whitby, it originates more than 70 miles away in Shap and geologists suppose that it was brought here by glacial movement during the Great Ice Age.(2) There are those who believe that the town of Darlington was built around the ancient stone and legend has it that it turns around nine times when it hears the clock strike twelve.(3) One story is that George Stephenson and Nicholas Wood sat on the stone to tie their boots, having walked from Stockton to Darlington barefoot. For centuries the boulder was a significant local landmark, occupying as it did, a prominent position on Northgate's pavement, in close proximity to the road. Once called the 'Battling Stone', for a time it was used by weavers to flax their yarn. In the nineteenth century Willy Bulmer, Darlington's unofficial town crier, read the London news standing from the boulder and it is probably from him that it derives its name.(4) In 1923 its landmark status diminished when it was moved just 6 yards. Deemed a traffic hazard the stone was 'imprisoned' back from the road, behind iron railings and in the shadow of the Technical College. Outraged Darlingtonians wrote to the local paper in protest, some declaring that it was 'desecration' and 'vandalism' to move the stone from the spot where it had stood for many thousands of years.(5)
Taken
from PMSA (Public Monuments and Sculpture Association)
In
Darnton towne ther is a stane,
And most strange is yt to tell,
That yt turnes nine times round aboute
When yt hears ye clock strike twell.
And most strange is yt to tell,
That yt turnes nine times round aboute
When yt hears ye clock strike twell.
Bulmer's
stone has been important to Darlington since the town's
founding, both as a boundary marker and
psychologically as a presence from another time and place. Throughout
the world, a number of cultures venerate stones and rocks, believing
them to host spirits. The local myth of Bulmer's stone turning nine times at
midnight is particularly interesting. Like the story of Cinderella,
the clock striking twelve signifies the transition from one day to
the next and is therefore the moment of transformation, when one
thing becomes another. Nine is a magic and sacred number, the number
of completion and fulfilment and when multiplied, always reproduces
itself. In the Tarot, nine is the card of the Hermit, symbolising
self-examination and reflection.
Even
though the myth pre-dates the industrial revolution it is telling
that Stephenson and Wood are associated with the stone. Their
association links Darlington's pre-history with its identity as an
industrial centre whose development of rail transport – mechanised
movement – was fundamental to the growth of our modern world.
Joining this prehistoric 'spiritual' presence to the defining aspect
of Darlington's contribution to the modern age brings another facet
to the story, one that suggests a premonition-like quality to
the stone. The myth of the stone seems to have identified the place
where the movement of things will become most important, the site of
railway development.
The development of passenger rail transport
was seen by the public as something extraordinary, almost magical. Much of the technology invented during the industrial revolution was
beyond public comprehension but passenger railways gave people a
chance to physically experience mechanised movement for the first time,
enabling them to be carried at what then seemed like great speed with no animate form of power. The inanimate engine seem possessed of
its own power and was a thing of real wonder. This may have led to engines
being named, a way of suggesting that the inanimate thing had a
spirit or personality or was the host for some life force.
When
Bulmer's stone was moved in 1923 to its present location behind
railings, there was a lot of local protest. Even though the move was
only six yards out of the roadway and towards the side of the street,
the movement was seen as an act of vandalism, something almost
sacrilegious. Caging the stone behind railings was also seen as wrong. In evicting the stone from its spot, all its meaning
was undone. The force that had carried it there in
the first place was compromised and the spell or magic meaning of the
thing trashed. A similar caging happened to the London Stone at Canon
Street.
The
name "London Stone" was first recorded around the year
1100. The date and original purpose of the Stone are unknown,
although it is possibly of Roman origin, and there has been interest
and speculation about it since at least the 16th century. There are
modern claims that it was formerly an object of veneration, or has
some occult significance. These assertions however, are completely
unsubstantiated.
It's as if the act of putting these stones behind railings is an
attempt to symbolically tame their occult powers. There's certainly
no financial or practical reason for their imprisonment. Moving the stone back to its original position would be a political act, an attempt to reinstate a deposed power but doing so would be useless. An object restored like that is a fake, denying the act of vandalism ever took place.
The
second association with 'rock' that comes to mind is through music.
Many northern centres of industry became the birthplace of specific
forms or music that echoed the heavily mechanised nature of life for
workers. These forms gained a world audience after the invention of
electronic amplification and modern popular music. Forms that music
took not only mirrored fashions of the day but were, to a degree,
influenced by the specific industrial activity and psychological
impact of that activity taking place in their birthplace. Rock music
in particular is associated with heavy industry. Although no great
rock bands come from Darlington (is this true?) its easy to imagine
how rail works and mechanised movement might have influenced
musicians.
Not only does mechanisation facilitate movement and rhythm but also time keeping. For centuries, church bells were the means by which time was measured. Bells ringing marked the call to prayer and structured the routine and activity of the local community. Measuring time was primitive and intuitive but the industrial revolution changed that, developing devices that were incredibly accurate. Although at first their purpose was to help measure longitude and aid navigation, the by-product of their invention was the rigorous structuring of time. This meant that workers and the transport of materials could be organised with great efficiency through shifts and timetables but the social impact of this change was enormous. Whereas before, workers had organised their activity in a more organic, sympathetic way, time keeping now meant an oppressive regime that undermined a sense of freedom and autonomy, eroding political rights and physical well-being.
Not only does mechanisation facilitate movement and rhythm but also time keeping. For centuries, church bells were the means by which time was measured. Bells ringing marked the call to prayer and structured the routine and activity of the local community. Measuring time was primitive and intuitive but the industrial revolution changed that, developing devices that were incredibly accurate. Although at first their purpose was to help measure longitude and aid navigation, the by-product of their invention was the rigorous structuring of time. This meant that workers and the transport of materials could be organised with great efficiency through shifts and timetables but the social impact of this change was enormous. Whereas before, workers had organised their activity in a more organic, sympathetic way, time keeping now meant an oppressive regime that undermined a sense of freedom and autonomy, eroding political rights and physical well-being.
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