The Tale of the Merry Friar of Tynemouth

Last week I had the joy of visiting Tynemouth Priory in glorious sunshine and blue sky. The Priory was built on a promontory overlooking the cold North Sea at the mouth of the River Tyne and has been in ruins for centuries (courtesy of that Henry VIII). I had a good wander around the ruined church and living quarters and, when I was standing in the refectory I remembered the tale of the merry friar and his love of fish and chips.

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Many, many years ago when the world was still wild and stout hearted men carried swords to protect themselves and their families and women wielded strange powers to protect their menfolk and families, the black friars built a mighty church to the glory of god. They built a great castle and dug a moat to protect their priory on one side with all other sides protected by the harsh seas. A small town grew up near the Priory to trade with the friars and their visitors. The friars used to visit the town and other towns and villages and carried out their good works.

Some friars enjoyed their visits to the towns more than others and often rested in local taverns and inns sampling the various brews and meads, including mead from Lindisfarne further up the coast. Friar Bernard was one of those who enjoyed a brew, especially in front of a roaring fire on a winter's night. He enjoyed several brews. He was a popular friar and made friends with the local birdlife, trying to emulate the famous Francis who preached to birds. Many seagulls would sit and listen to Friar Bernard in the hopes that he might have a spare bit of fish in his pocket.

Friar Bernard was partial to eating fish and chips for his Friday dinner (occasionally with mushy peas on the side) and he looked forward to a pint of beer to wash his fish and chips down with. One Friday, however, there was a great storm that flooded the larder and all the food was washed away into the raging sea. Friar Bernard immediately knew what to do and he took off his shoes and bound up his robes as he set off to swim across the moat to go to the local tavern that had recently started selling fish and chip luncheons. He collected several portions of the best fish and chips and, holding them above the water, he swam back across the moat to the priory, telling the seagulls to stay away as they hovered, ever hopeful.

When Friar Bernard got back to the refectory he was lauded and given the seat of honour near the fire where he stripped off his robes and hung them up to dry while he indulged in his favourite meal. To save him from catching a cold his brothers gave him more beer and some medicinal mead and let him doze by the fire all afternoon.

The tavern owner, ever with an eye to turning a profit, changed the name of his tavern to the Black Friar and painted a new sign of a merry friar with rosy cheeks and spread the tale of Friar Bernard far and wide to get more business. He succeeded and opened more taverns using the Black Friar name. In thanks, he always gave Friar Bernard a free pint of his best unwatered beer for luck. Friar Bernard was quite happy with this arrangement until he decided to go off on pilgrimage to sunnier, southern places. We lose track of his movements except for rumours that he ended up in the court of the King of Aragon in Spain.

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It's a strange tale, a bit garbled as it's been passed down through the centuries but it's undoubtedly true. I often visit Blackfriars station in London so it must be true.