Grace Darling's Tomb

A Memory of Bamburgh.

Visiting the Grace Darling Musuem, then her grave in the churchyard opposite, was an annual event while on holiday on the Northumberland coast. Peering through the bars around the tomb I was often reminded of how my grandmother had pulled herself up, slipped and put a metal spike through the base of her chin. As I could never spot a scar between the wrinkles I doubted the veracity of this tale. It was however confirmed, with admonitions, by her older sister and my other great aunties. Whenever I visit today (about once a decade sadly) I still wonder on which spike it was that my granny had hooked herself. I visualise an elderly Gran spatchcocked on the iron railings even though I have since been told that she was 12 years old at the time of this mishap.