Memo If of the Rev. John Frederic Bigge. 200 



plane trees on the west. In close proximity, about eighty yards 

 to the north, stood the Church of St Mary the Virgin, a noble 

 cruciform structure of pure Early English style, with massive 

 tall tower of Saxon or very early Norman date at the west end. 

 Of all the beautiful views on the Newcastle and Carlisle railway, 

 (and they are many) there was none to surpass a summer even- 

 ing's prospect of this portion of the Tyne, as viewed from the 

 wooded heights near Wylam Hall ; the castle on the one hand, 

 the church on the other, with the broad river flowing peacefully 

 between, glowing under the soft radiance of the western sun ; 

 this was a prospect, when once seen, to be impressed on the 

 memory and remembered with delight. 



Here Mr Bigge remained until the year 1847, having married 

 in 1843 Caroline Mary, daughter of Nathaniel Ellison, Esq., 

 Commissioner in Bankruptcy for the Newcastle district, and then 

 resident at Wylam Hall. The care of the parish of Ovingham 

 was no sinecure, it being very extensive in area, seven miles 

 from north to south, five miles from east to west ; comprehend- 

 ing nine villages and hamlets, with seven schools at the principal 

 points. To many men this would have been an overpowering 

 charge, but Mr Bigge was the man to grapple with it. A true 

 Northumbrian bred and born, he knew and loved every inch of 

 his native county ; and whilst most attentive to his clerical 

 duties, his intense love of the country and country objects, took 

 away what would have been to many the tedium of distant and 

 often lonely walks to remote districts of his parish, and enabled 

 him successfully to unite business with pleasure. Thus, in 

 arranging with me (for I was his curate at Ovingham for two 

 years, until his removal to Stamfordham) at the beginning of the 

 week the work for the week to come, he would say to me in his 

 genial way, " Now, Featherston, on Tuesday we'll just go up to- 

 gether to Harlow Hill, and see how the good people thei'e are. 

 We can go by Welton, see how old Charlton is, and. whether 

 ' Silkie ' (the ghost) has appeared of late ; and we can come 

 back down Whittle Dene, see how our friends the ' Primula 

 farinosa ' are getting on, and look in on the colony of ' Hart's 

 Tongue ' at Nafferton Bridge. Then on our way down the 

 Dene, we perhaps ma}' find the ' Lily of the Valley ' condescend- 

 ing at last to iiower, and take a few down for Mrs Bigge's 

 drawing room.' 1 With a Vicar like this, it was not difficult for 

 a Curate of kindred tastes to get on well ; and Mr Bigge never 

 1 A 



