A few days ago I related the tale of my wee trip to Low Chibburn Preceptory near Druridge Bay, together with a potted history of the curious little site. Whilst conducting my research for the article I came across reference to a supposed French invasion of 1691 which, among other things, seems to have brought an end to the active history of the former Knights Hospitaller farmstead. This threw me a bit, so I set about trying to find out more about the mysterious incident.
The short-lived incursion by England’s perennial enemy received scant mention in the history books. Macaulay’s famous History of England of 1848 touches lightly on the event, yet gets the date wrong. Fortunately, that great historian of the North-East, William Weaver Tomlinson, put matters straight in his 1899 paper Jean Bart’s Descent on the Coast of Northumberland in 1691.
The story begins with the adventures of two remarkable French naval commanders, Jean Bart, and his side-kick, Claude de Forbin. During the Nine Years War (where France faced off against most of the rest of Europe during 1688-97), this pair managed to get themselves captured by the English in 1689, then effected a dramatic escape from jail, before rowing back across the Channel to rejoin hostilities. Then, when the English and Dutch were trying to blockade Dunkirk to prevent French ships entering the fray a little later in the war, the two commanders skilfully slipped through the net, and began a short campaign of harassment of the English coast and of general nuisance-making in the North Sea.
Bart eventually decided to have a pop at Newcastle and its fleet of colliers (he often chose modest targets for his ‘kills’, including fishing boats). It just so happened, though, that there were none to be found, and he instead “found himself, on Tuesday 21st July [1691], off the Northumberland coast, with a stately castle and some small villages in sight.”
The stretch of coast in question was Druridge Bay, with the castle being that of Widdrington. Forbin advised his boss, mistakenly, that they were most likely off the coast of Scotland. But, whatever: they decided to land some men, cause some havoc, and make a headline or two. With the help of an English renegade named Chetworth (or Thetford, sources vary), the French fleet of eight ships was guided ashore - and it is likely that there were also present a number of privateers - with Forbin in charge of the operation.
The party of a few dozen men moved carefully across Druridge Links, falling first upon the village of Widdrington, which they duly pillaged and set ablaze. Then nearby Widdrington Castle was broken into and burgled, and the outbuildings set alight. Nearby cottages were similarly destroyed; after which the old preceptory at Low Chibburn (by then used as a farmhouse) was burnt to the ground, and the tiny hamlet of Druridge was also wasted. By this time a small body of poorly equipped cavalry and infantry had arrived to meet the threat, forcing the French to retire to their ships with their plunder. One invader was caught and killed, weighed down by his personal cache of booty.
The French thus escaped with their takings, boasting that they had caused far more damage and destruction than they actually had - and on their way back to Dunkirk they bravely attacked several more fishing boats. News of the mini invasion did, however, make the headlines, and collections were made for the benefit of the victims of the attack. Attempts were repeatedly made in the ensuing years to bring the miscreants to book, but only two individuals were ever punished - one being the Chetworth/Thetford chap who had piloted the French ships into the bay. Some sources say he was executed at Newcastle, others that he escaped capital punishment altogether.
And that explains the rather strange end-of-days at Low Chibburn Preceptory ….
Note: Tomlinson’s paper was published in Archaeological Aeliana, Series 2, vol.XXII (1900), pp.12-19, which is available in full online here.
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