ARTHUR Watson, who was born in 1845, had a quiet start to life on a farm in Holwick before working in a dale lead mine.

The only travelling he did was a few miles on foot, walking over the Tees at Winch Bridge and then back home. That was his route to school at first, followed by some years of mine duty.

But at the age of 17 he set off on one of the most adventurous careers that any dalesman could imagine. He emigrated to America and did some prospecting in mineral areas in Pittsburg, Pennsylvania.

Finding no success he moved on to Colorado but again failed to strike it rich so he returned across the Atlantic to Teesdale when he was 23.

He hadn't made his fortune, but he still has high hopes and the travel bug remained with him. So after a short spell he set off over the ocean again, this time to Mexico to work in copper mines.

From there he went back to Colorado to work in silver and gold mines for several years. Then he set sail for South Africa to sink mine shafts for a big company but when that work dried up he came back to Holwick, where his father, Joseph Watson, was still farming.

But before long his wanderlust took him off again. He went on his longest trip to Western Australia to continue his search for gold.

Then he heard that prospects were better in New Zealand, so off he went. But he soon discovered that there was no hope of success, so back to Australia he sailed. By this time he must have clocked up more than 30,000 miles on board ships.

His journeys would be slow and uncomfortable, as he would not have much spare cash to pay for luxuries.

His next travelling was on foot. From Freemantle he made a trek of 18 days to one goldfield, followed by a trudge of 13 days to another. Conditions were grim, with water so scarce that he had to pay sixpence a gallon for it at first.

Then due to some dreadful profiteering the price went up to a shilling a gallon. He became ill with a fever, so headed back to Freemantle, where he died at the age of 48 after three weeks in hospital.

Arthur Watson was buried a long way from home but he was well remembered in the dale, and there was much sorrow when news of his passing arrived in a letter.

He had packed more travelling into his last 31 years than most other dalesmen could only dream about.

DICK Francis, who has done masterful work on many cars for other people, has decided to give himself a treat by building his own special sports two-seater.

It will be really eye-catching once it gets on the road, for the parts are costing around £30,000.

He and his partner Steve Layton run the Carrosserie workshop in Barnard Castle, where battered old Rolls Royces and other leading makes are regularly put back into their original showroom condition.

Now, in his free time between these intricate restorations, he is building a Hawk 289 FIA, a replica of an AC Cobra. It copies models that were in action on many race tracks a few decades ago.

"My wife Anne suggested that after all my efforts for others I should do a really nice car for myself," he said.

"So I decided to treat myself with something I can drive in great comfort and style once I start taking life more easily. This will be a wonderful vehicle."

He bought the chassis and fibre glass body from Hawk and is taking time to make the finished car exactly as he wants it. It has a 4,000cc V8 engine that will be capable of around 150mph.

The wheels that have come from America cost £1,000 apiece, and the tyres were £1,270 for a set of four, even at trade prices.

The body is grey at the moment but is destined to be opalescent silver blue with a white band across the bonnet. It will have a soft top and single roll bar.

"I won't drive at very high speeds, but will be able to cruise comfortably all over Europe in it," said Mr Francis.

The style stems from the late John Tojeiro, a Portugese designer whose work revolutionised racing cars in the 1950s and 60s.

WHEN young soldier John Bulmer died he must have been held in high esteem, judging by the trouble taken to give him an impressive gravestone.

It had three verses carved into it, a job which would take a lot of time and money.

The first verse ran: A soldier sleeps beneath this humble tomb/Who died the first fruits of a patriot train/Friends of the brave lament his early doom/Friends of your country weep, one died in vain.

The words engraved above those lines state that the body lying here outside Barnard Castle Parish Church is that of Private Bulmer of the Teesdale Regiment of Volunteers Infantry commanded by Lieut Col Morritt.

He died on April 15, 1804, aged 21, while the regiment was on permanent duty in the town.

There was a suggestion at the time that the poem was written by Walter Scott, who later became Sir Walter. He was a friend of John Bacon Sawrey Morritt of Rokeby, who commanded the regiment, and had earlier raised a force to defend the area against a feared French invasion which never happened.

The second verse was: He lived when threatened by insatiate Gaul/Each British breast combined in generous strife/With us for England loved to fight or fall/And gave her all he had, his prayers and life.

It is possible that Scott heard about the private's death when he visited the dale a few years later to gather material for his epic poem entitled Rokeby, and decided to compose a rhyming tribute to him.

The third verse stated: Ye who remain, may heaven direct your way/Seek ye the field with confidence secure/That even the death which comes shall leave a ray/To gild the simple annals of the poor.

As with many other gravestones from that era the wording became more difficult to read as decades went by. After about 90 years someone did manage to read and record them. but now they can't be found.

In their early days they must have attracted much attention to the young soldier, who otherwise would have been hardly known.

IF a bogus surgeon came before Bishop Auckland magistrates nowadays accused of running an unauthorised medical practice in a dale village he would be treated seriously.

He'd probably be sent to the assizes then jailed or fined a vast sum. But the JPs took a relaxed view when they dealt with just such a case in 1883.

William Todd was in the dock charged with unlawfully, wilfully and falsely using the title of surgeon, implying that he was registered under the Medical Act 1858.

The case was brought by the London and Counties Medical Protection Society, whose officials travelled from the capital.

It was reported that Todd put a brass plate with the words Mr Todd Surgeon outside his premises in Evenwood. He was renting these from Thomas Nollis, a shaftsman at Tees Hetton colliery.

But though he had taken a college course he was not qualified. Details were not given of the patients he had treated. His late father and brother had been surgeons.

His lawyer said he had worked with a doctor for five years and was not a common quack. Todd claimed the case was brought by someone who was trying to do him harm.

So how serious did the justices feel the offence was? They showed what they thought by fining him only £1.