Reaching the weathercock that looks down on Darlington

Given that the weathercock cannot fly, however did it get up to its perch?

The St Cuthbert's Church weathercock when it was down on the ground in 1926. You can see the name of the church officials carved on its neck

Exactly 150 years ago this week, the weathercock was being replaced at the top of the spire having been blown down by a gale in November 1872, and the Darlington & Stockton Times carried a lengthy explanation of the daring, and pioneering, technique employed by John Ives, a specialist steeplejack from Huddersfield.

Although sometimes, it seems from reading the report, Mr Ives was too reckless for his own good.

First of all, he drove iron spikes into the joints of the stonework from which he suspended himself “in a kind of a saddle”. Every time he drove in a new spike, he moved his saddle up.

Once the spire became too slender for the spikes, he seems to have simply climbed unsupported to the top.

Reaching the weathercock in 1986 by ladder: could you climb up there?

“A rope with blocks and pulleys was then securely fastened round the highest part of the spire, and by that means the men ascended and descended in a remarkably simple, although of necessity, dangerous manner,” said the paper on January 18, 1873.

The danger must have been intensified by the top of the spire, from which the weathercock had tumbled, being in a very wobbly state.

“Large crowds of people watched the daring of the two men, and it was amusing to inspect the ease and rapidity with which the materials were hoisted up,” said the paper. “But a word of warning. One of these men yesterday amused himself by imitating a ‘shakedown’ on this narrow stage. Now the only reason he could have for doing so was to show how little he cared for the danger he ran, and as no one can doubt the courage of a man who undertakes such dangerous work, it is quite unnecessary that he should incur any additional risk to prove it.

“At the same time, we may point out that there is a pretty clearly defined distinction between pluck and foolhardiness.”

St Cuthbert's Church in 1964 with the weathercock in place

It seems that Mr Ives did not take kindly to being admonished in print because the next week the D&S announced that, at 3pm on January 25, he would be scaling the steeple to personally place the weathercock on its perch.

“He will make the ascent, as he did on the first occasion, in order to show several gentlemen, who are curious in the matter, how ingenuity, skill and courage have taken the place of the old, slow and expensive method of fixing scaffolding to the top of a church,” said the paper, now presenting Mr Ives as a pioneering conqueror of the skies.

Hundreds of people – the biggest crowd yet – gathered 150 years ago on Wednesday to watch Mr Ives winch himself up to the top, attach a new lightning rod, and then place the weathercock on its perch.

“Immediately it was performed, the Saxhorn Band played See the Conquering Hero Comes, and the bells rang a merry peal,” said the D&S.

Let’s hope the campanologists informed Mr Ives of their plans because he would have got quite a shock as he descended in his saddle if he were unexpectedly deafened by the bells as he passed.

The weathercock he had taken up has the date 1746 scratched into it, which is believed to be when it was first installed. It is 3ft 3ins from beak to tail and 2ft 2ins in height.

It also has the dates 1822 and 1872-73, when it came crashing back down to earth and so needed to be lifted back up. Indeed, at the end of the 19th Century, it seems to have been regularly down – in 1881, it was struck by a bolt of lightning and ended up in High Row, and in 1899, it was down for so long that the vicar and churchwardens neatly inscribed their names on its neck.

Messrs O'Neill, a father and son combination, who removed and replaced the weathercock on the top of St Cuthbert's in September 1926, along with the verger, Mr J Horley, who assisted

Not to be outdone, when it was taken down in September 1926 for regilding, the vicar, churchwardens and the verger had their names neatly inscribed on the other side of the neck.

It came down again in 1931 and 1960 to receive attention, and regularly since men without fear have positioned ladders to climb to the top and check it is ok. None of them has tried the pioneering method of Mr Ives and his foolhardy saddle of exactly 150 years ago.

The weathercock gets a coat of paint in April 1960