Northumberland Yesterday and To-day Part 4

"Say, have you seen the blushing rose, The blooming pink, or lily pale?

Fairer than any flower that blows Was Lucy Gray of Allendale.

Pensive at eve, down by the burn, Where oft the maid they used to hail, The shepherds now are heard to mourn For Lucy Gray of Allendale."

Not far from the village of Catton, the name of "Rebel Hill" reminds us that it was a vicar of Allendale, Mr. Patten, who joined young Derwent.w.a.ter in the rising of "The Fifteen," and was appointed chaplain of the little army. He met some half-dozen men of the neighbourhood at this hill, when they set off together to join the rest of the forces at Wooler.

On the West Allen is the lonely little hamlet of Ninebanks, with Ninebanks Tower, concerning which little is known with certainty; and on this stream also are two of the most strikingly beautiful places in Northumberland--the delightfully picturesque village of Whitfield, and the well-known Staward-le-Peel.

The ruins of the "Pele" tower stand on a high gra.s.sy platform, safeguarded on three sides by tall cliffs and tumbled boulders; the remains of a ditch may also be traced. From this point a splendid view of the river valley, with its steep precipices, overhanging pinewoods intermingled with trees of less sombre hue, and the bright course of the river, may be obtained. At a point a little higher up the valley, where the waters of the stream are held back by some huge rocks, they form a deep pool, and then flow onwards through a narrow gorge called Cyper's Linn. Following the stream now until it has merged its waters in those of the South Tyne, we turn eastward with the main stream and come to Haydon Bridge.

This considerable village, gradually growing to the proportions of a small town, lies on both sides of the river, which is here crossed by the substantial bridge from which the village takes its name; for the original village of Haydon stood at some distance up the hill on the north side of the stream. On the hillside may still be seen the ruins of the old church, in which services are occasionally held in the summer time. The chancel, apparently dating from the twelfth century, and a later little chapel to the south of it, are all that are left of the building. Some very quaint inscriptions are to be seen in the churchyard, and there are many sculptured grave-covers within the church. Many of the stones used in the building have evidently been brought from the great Wall, or probably from the Roman station of Borcovicus, some six or seven miles to the north; and what a rush of bewildering fancies crowds upon one's mind on first discovering that the font was originally a Roman altar!

The old church must have looked down on many a wild and curious scene in the days when Scot and Englishman sought only opportunities to do each other an injury, and the river-valleys were the natural pa.s.ses through which the tide of invasion, raid, and reprisal flowed.

In the beginning of the reign of Edward III., about 24,000 Scots, under Douglas and Murray, crossed the Tyne near Haydon Bridge, and rode on to plunder the richer lands that lay to the south and west. They reached Stanhope and encamped there for a time. The young king set out northwards with a great army to punish these marauders, and he was told by his scouts that they had hastily left Stanhope on his approach. He and his army pushed on quickly until they reached Bardon Mill; and, crossing the Tyne, marched down to Haydon Bridge, expecting the Scots to return by the way they went. It was miserable weather, and the feeding of so many thousands of men was no little problem. They scoured all the country round for provisions, getting the most from the Hexham Abbey lands. Meanwhile it rained and rained, and no Scots appeared. After a week of waiting, Edward, in great disappointment, went to Haltwhistle, while his followers reconnoitered in all directions. Finally, he had the mortification of learning that the Scots were still at Stanhope, but before anything more could be done, they betook themselves back to Scotland by a different route, and there was nothing left for Edward but to give up the expedition in despair.

The bridge at Haydon appears to have been the only one for some distance up and down the river in the sixteenth century, for we read of its being barred and chained, on various occasions of marauding troubles in Tynedale, to prevent the free-booters re-crossing the river.

In the days of Charles I. Colonel Lilburn marched to Haydon Bridge in command of some troops of the Roundheads, on his way to join their comrades at Hexham as a counter-move to the operations of the Royalist troops in the North. Little more than thirty years after this, when the days of Cromwell's power had come and gone, and Charles II. ruled at Whitehall, the old Grammar School was founded at Haydon Bridge in 1685 by a clergyman, the Rev. John Shafto. Various changes have taken place in the school from time to time, necessitated by the gradual changes and educational needs of the pa.s.sing years; and now, like the Grammar School of Queen Elizabeth at Hexham, it has been entirely re-const.i.tuted to meet modern requirements. John Martin, the famous painter of "The Plains of Heaven," received the beginnings of his education at this school. He was born at East Land Ends farm in 1789. In after years the authorities of Haydon Bridge Reading Room, wishing no doubt to afford a perfect example to future generations of the truth of the proverb concerning a prophet and his own country, refused some of Martin's pictures, which the gifted painter himself offered to them--an act which their successors have doubtless regretted.

At a little distance along the Langley Road, which leads past the school, a memorial cross is standing. It was erected in 1883 by the late Mr. C.J. Bates, the historian of Northumberland, to the memory of the last of the Derwent.w.a.ter family, whose castle of Langley he purchased.

The inscription on the cross reads:--"To the memory of James and Charles, Viscounts Langley, Earls of Derwent.w.a.ter, beheaded on Tower Hill, London, 24th February, 1716, and 8th December, 1746, for loyalty to their lawful sovereign."

A striking testimony, this, to the fact that freedom in England is a reality, and not merely a name. In what other land would an inscription such as this have been allowed to remain for more than twenty-four hours?

A couple of miles or more down the South Tyne is Fourstones, so called because of four stones, said to have been Roman altars, having been used to mark its boundaries. A romantic use was made of one of these stones in the early days of "The Fifteen." Every evening, as dusk fell, a little figure, clad in green, stole up to the ancient altar, which had been slightly hollowed out, and, taking out a packet, laid another in its place. The mysterious packets, placed there so secretly, were letters from the Jacobites of the neighbourhood to each other; and the little figure in green was a boy who acted as messenger for them. No wonder that the people of the district gave this altar the name of the "Fairy Stone."

Between Haydon Bridge and Fourstones are both freestone and limestone quarries, which latter have supplied many fossils to visitors of geological tastes. Halfway between Fourstones and Hexham, the two streams of North and South Tyne unite, and flow together down to the old town of Hexham, with its quaintly irregular buildings cl.u.s.tering in picturesque confusion round its ancient Abbey, which dominates the landscape from whatever point we approach.

Warden Village, already mentioned, lies in the angle formed by the meeting of the two streams, and has an ancient church which, however, has been largely rebuilt. From High Warden, near at hand, a delightful view may be obtained for a long distance up the valleys of North and South Tyne. On the summit of this hill there are the remains of a considerable British camp, showing that they had seized upon this point of vantage, and though the ancient British name has not come down to us, it is evident from the Saxon name of Warden (_weardian_) that Saxons as well as Britons were fully alive to the merits of the situation, "guarding" the valley at such a commanding point.

CHAPTER III.

DOWN THE TYNE.

The town of Hexham, standing on hilly ground overlooking the Tyne, immediately below the point at which the North and South Tyne unite, and spreading from thence down to the levels all round, is one of the most ancient in the kingdom. To write of Hexham with any measure of fulness would require much more s.p.a.ce than can be given to it within the limits of a small book; only a mere summary can be offered here. Britons, Romans, and Saxons, in turn, have dwelt on and around the hill which, in Saxon days, was to be crowned with Wilfrid's beautiful Abbey, which, we read, surpa.s.sed all others in England at that time for beauty and excellence of design and workmanship; nor was there another to equal it anywhere on this side of the Alps.

The name of Hexham is generally understood to be derived from the names of two little streams, the Hextol and the Halgut, now the Cowgarth and the c.o.c.kshaw Burns, which here flow into the Tyne; or, as Mr. Bates suggests, it may have been the "ham" of "some forgotten Hagustald,"

which the name perpetuates. In any case its name was Hagustaldesham when King Ecgfrith (or Egfrid) of Northumbria gave it to his queen, Etheldreda, who wished to take the veil. Queen Etheldreda, however, preferred to go to East Anglia, which was her home; she retired to a convent at Ely, and bestowed the land at Hagustaldesham on Wilfrid, a monk of Lindisfarne, clever, ambitious and hardworking, who had become Bishop of York, which meant Bishop of all Northumbria.

Wilfrid had been to Rome, and seen the churches of that city and of the lands through which he travelled; and, on his appointment to power, he set himself to make the churches of his diocese worthy to compare with those of older civilizations. He did much to the cathedral of York, and built that of Ripon; but the Abbey of Hexham was his masterpiece. He built a monastery and church, dedicating the latter to St. Andrew, for it was in the church of St. Andrew at Rome that, kneeling, he felt himself fired with enthusiasm for his work, in the same church from which Augustine had set out on his journey to Britain some fifty years before. The year 674 is generally accepted as the date on which this n.o.ble Abbey was founded.

Wilfrid lived in great splendour at York, and ruled his immense diocese with a firm hand; in fact, he was the first of that line of great ecclesiastics who have moved with such proud, and oft-times turbulent, progress through the pages of English history. King Ecgfrith's second wife, Ermenburga, was jealous of the great power and magnificence of the Northumbrian prelate, and through her influence, Archbishop Theodore was induced to divide the huge diocese of Northumbria into four portions--York, Hexham, Ripon and Withern in Galloway. Wilfrid, naturally indignant, found all his protests disregarded, and immediately set out for Rome, to obtain a decree of rest.i.tution from the Pope. It was given to him, but little cared the Northumbrians for that. Wilfrid was imprisoned for nine months, and then banished from Northumbria.

He went southwards and dwelt in Suss.e.x, where his genius for hard work found scope in a mission to the Saxons of the south lands, and where he built and founded more churches and monasteries. Readers of "Rewards and Fairies" will have made acquaintance with Wilfrid in his Suss.e.x wanderings and hardships. On his recall to the North by King Aldfrith, he returned to Hexham. On the death of Aldfrith, the new King, Edwulf, banished Wilfrid once more, ordering him to leave the kingdom within six days; but the friends of Aldfrith's young son, whom Edwulf had dispossessed, obtained the ascendancy, and Wilfrid was re-instated in his Abbeys of Hexham and Ripon.

While on his way back from Rome, on his last visit, Wilfrid had a severe illness, but was granted a vision in which he was told that he had four years more to live, and that he must build a church to the honour of the Blessed Virgin. The little church of St. Mary, which stood close to the walls of the great Abbey of Hexham, was erected in fulfilment of this command.

In the Abbey church itself, all that was known for centuries of the original work of Wilfrid was the famous crypt, which is almost unique, that of Ripon, also the work of Wilfrid, being the only one like it; but recent excavations have brought much more of the ancient cathedral to light, and laid bare, not only its original plan, but some of the walls, and part of the very pavement trodden by the feet of Wilfrid and his fellows so many centuries ago. The tomb of Wilfrid, however, is not at Hexham, but at his other foundation of Ripon.

The ancient Abbey suffered much at the hands of the Danes, and in later years from the ravages of the Scots, having been burnt several times, notably in 1296, when 40,000 Scots ravaged the North of England, plundering, burning, and laying waste wherever they went, exactly as the Danes had done four hundred years before. Some of the stones of the old Abbey yet bear traces of the fires by which the ancient building was so often nearly destroyed, and in these frequent conflagrations all records, charters, etc., of the Abbey, from which might have been compiled a complete history, not only of the Abbey but of much of the provincial and national history of the times, were lost.

The Abbey was restored and rebuilt again and again, but for varying reasons was without a nave for some hundreds of years. Within the last ten years, however, a complete restoration has been carried out, under the loving, and, what is more to the point, the capable superintendence of Canon Savage and his colleagues, in the spirit and manner, as nearly as possible, of the beautiful portions already standing; and several disfiguring so-called "restorations" of nineteenth century work, which could only detract from the beauty and dignity of the n.o.ble building, have been removed entirely. This work was completed in 1908, and all who have the honour of our famous county at heart must rejoice that its n.o.blest church is at last more worthy of its own high rank and glorious past.

Among the many deeply interesting objects to be seen in the Abbey is the stone Sanctuary seat--the Frid Stool, or seat of peace--at which fugitives, fleeing from their enemies, might find refuge. It is believed that this was the "Cathedra" of St. Wilfrid himself. The arms and back of the chair are ornamented with a twisted knot-work pattern. The right of Sanctuary extended for a mile round the Abbey, the boundaries being marked by crosses, one at each point of the compa.s.s at that distance.

[Ill.u.s.tration: HEXHAM ABBEY FROM NORTH WEST]

Other treasures of the Abbey are the beautiful Old Rood Screen, dating from the end of the fifteenth or beginning of the sixteenth century; some wonderful old paintings, especially the portraits of the early Bishops of Hexham, Alcmund, Wilfrid, Acca, Eata, Frithbert, Cuthbert, and John, which date from the fifteenth century; the mediaeval carved and painted pulpit, and the tomb of good King Alfwald of Northumbria.

Many of the stones used by Wilfrid's builders were of Roman workmanship, and seem to have come from the Roman city of Corstopitum, at Corbridge.

An inscription on one of these old stones in the crypt takes us back some centuries before even Wilfrid's time, for it commemorates the Emperor Severus and his two sons, Marcus Aurelius Antoninus (Caracalla) and Publius Septimius Geta, and has the name of the latter erased, as was done on all similar inscriptions throughout the Empire, by order of the inhuman Caracalla, after his murder of his brother.

A very interesting feature of the building is the stone stairway in the South transept, by which the monks ascended to their dormitories above.

Quite near to the Abbey, at the other side of the Market Place, the ancient Moot Hall claims attention. The modern visitor to the old town walks beneath the gloomy archway, with its time-worn stones, which forms the bas.e.m.e.nt over which the Moot Hall stands. Another building, grim and dark, near at hand, is the Old Manor House, in which the business connected with the ancient Manor of Hexham was transacted.

An old foundation in the town was the Queen Elizabeth Grammar School, which, after having fallen into desuetude for many years, has been revived in a form appropriate to modern needs, and housed in a worthy building, formally opened by Sir Francis Blake on November 2nd, 1910.

The site on which the new Grammar School of Queen Elizabeth stands is one of the finest in the county, commanding, as it does, an uninterrupted view of the river valley for some distance, and of the rising ground beyond.

At the beginning of last century, Hexham was famed for its glove-making: but that industry has forsaken the town for many years.

Now, Hexham is surrounded by acres of market-gardens, from which the produce of Tynedale is carried far and wide.

The s.p.a.cious stretch of level meadow-land below Hexham, rising gradually up to the swelling ridges beyond, is said to have been the scene which John Martin had in mind when he painted the "Plains of Heaven"; though the level reaches above Newburn, unenc.u.mbered with buildings in John Martin's time, and then a scene of quiet pastoral beauty, also claim that honour.

Flowing now between well ordered gardens, green meadows, and ferny banks, brawling musically over shingly shallows, or crooning gently between fringing woods, the Tyne rolls onward to Corbridge, receiving on its way the Devil's Water, a sparkling stream which flows through scenes of enchanting beauty, whether between rugged cliffs and heather clad hills as in its upper course, through the graceful overhanging trees and cool green recesses of Dipton woods or between rich meadows and green pasture-land where it loses itself in the bosom of the Tyne.

There is no more delightful experience than to wander through the woods of Deepdene (Dipton) on a summer's day, when it requires no stretch of the imagination to believe oneself in an enchanted forest, or, on hearing a crackle of twigs, or faint sounds of the outside world filtering through the green solitudes, to turn round expecting to see a maiden on a "milk-white steed," or one of the Knights of the Round Table come riding by, in bravery of glistening armour and gay surtout, and to find oneself murmuring, "Now, Sir Gawain rode apace, and came unto a right fair wood, and findeth the stream of a spring that ran with a great rushing, and nigh thereunto was a way that was much haunted. He abandoneth his high-way, and goeth all along the stream from the spring that lasteth a long league plenary, until that he espieth a right fair house and right fair chapel enclosed within a hedge of wood."

On the green meadows of Hexham Levels and near Dilston Castle--two spots of more than ordinary historical interest--the Lancastrian cause received, in 1464, a blow from which it never rallied, though the courageous Queen fought gallantly till the final disasters at Barnet and Tewkesbury. The general of her forces, the Duke of Somerset, was beheaded in Hexham market-place, and, together with several others of rank and station, buried at Hexham. The well-known incident of Queen Margaret's escape into Dipton, or Deepdene woods, where she and young Prince Edward met with robbers, and afterwards escaped by the aid of another member of that fraternity, took place a year before this, after the first battle of Hexham in 1463. The year had been one of constant warfare between York and Lancaster in the north, the Castles of Alnwick and Bamburgh having fallen into the hands of Queen Margaret's friends once more, after having been raptured by Edward of York the year before; the Scots with Margaret and King Henry VI., had besieged Norham, but were put to flight by the Earl of Warwick and hid brother, Lord Montague; the royal fugitives sought safety at Bamburgh, whence the Queen, with Prince Edward, sailed for Flanders, leaving King Henry in the Castle where he was in no immediate danger; Warwick, with his forces, retired southward again, and the gentle King remained in his rocky stronghold, and enjoyed there nine months of unwonted peace.

Shortly after this, the Duke of Somerset deserted the cause of York for that of Lancaster, and became the leader of the Queen's forces. In April, 1464, he and Sir Ralph Percy opposed, at Hedgeley Moor, the troops of Lord Montague journeying northward to escort the Scottish delegates who were coming to York to make terms with Edward of York. Sir Ralph Percy was slain, exclaiming as he fell "I have saved the bird in my bosom"--that enigmatic sentence which has given rise to so much conjecture, but which is generally held to mean that he had saved his honour, by dying at last, after so many changes of front, in the service of that King and Queen to whom he originally owed allegiance. "Percy's Cross," marking the site of his death, may be seen by the side of the railway near Hedgeley Station, on the Alnwick and Wooler line.

The rest of the force dispersed, and made their way to Hexham; and Lord Montague marching upon them from Newcastle, a sharp engagement took place on the Levels, near the Linnels Bridge, with the result, as we have seen, of the defeat and death of Somerset, and the overthrow of Queen Margaret's hopes in the north, where she had had a strong following.

The historical interest centred on Dilston Castle brings us to much later times, and enshrines a story which possesses a pathetic interest beyond that of any other place in Northumberland. Originally the home of the family of D'Eivill, later Dyvelstone (which explains the name "Devil's Water") Dilston Castle came into the possession of the Radcliffes by marriage, and in the days of the Commonwealth the Radcliffe of the day forfeited his estates on account of his loyalty to the house of Stuart. Charles II. restored them, and the close attachment between the houses of Stuart and Radcliffe continued until the fortunes of both were quenched in disaster and gloom. The figure of the young and gallant James Radcliffe, last Earl of Derwent.w.a.ter, holds the imagination no less than the heart as it moves across the page of history for a brief s.p.a.ce to its tragic end. Though born in London, in June 1689, young Radcliffe pa.s.sed his childhood and youth in France in the closest companionship with James Stuart, son of the exiled James II.

At the age of twenty-one he returned to his home in Northumbria, and took up his residence there, his charming manners, kind heart, and openhanded hospitality speedily endearing him to all cla.s.ses. His servants and tenants, in particular, were pa.s.sionately devoted to him.

In the words of the old ballad of "Derwent.w.a.ter"--

"O, Derwent.w.a.ter's a bonnie lord, And golden is his hair, And glintin' is his hawkin' e'e Wi' kind love dwelling there."

On his marriage in 1712, the young bride and bridegroom remained for two years at the home of the bride's father, and preparations were made for restoring the glories of Dilston on an extensive scale. On Derwent.w.a.ter's return to his beautiful Northumbrian seat in 1714, the death of Queen Anne had excited the hopes of all the friends of the house of Stuart, and plots and secret meetings were being planned throughout Scotland and the north of England, the objective being the restoration of the exiled Stuarts to the throne. Derwent.w.a.ter took little part in these attempts to organise rebellion for some time, but at length was drawn into the dangerous game, as he was too valuable an a.s.set to be pa.s.sed over by the Jacobite party.

At last rumours of the projected rising reached London, and a warrant was issued for the arrest of Derwent.w.a.ter, even before it was known whether he had actually joined the plotters, his well-known friendship with the exiled Prince making it almost certain that he would be an important figure in any movement on their behalf. For the next few weeks the young Earl found himself obliged to remain in hiding, finding safety in the cottages of his tenants, and in the houses of friends and neighbours. Finally, though his good sense warned him that he was embarking on an almost hopeless enterprise, he decided to throw in his lot with the Jacobites.