LANERCOST TO BLEATARN
Lanercost Priory is built almost entirely of Roman stones. Dr. Bruce
was of opinion that there must have been a fort on the site, and
that, as the river Irthing was crossed by a Roman bridge close by, it
might have been thought necessary to guard the passage. However,
recent opinion is entirely against this view.
The nave of the Priory church is used as the parish church; the choir
and transepts are roofless. It must have been very beautiful when
the building was complete, though indeed the ruins are beautiful as
they are.
In the crypt are Roman altars, and a sculptured stone representing
Jupiter and Hercules. One of the altars is dedicated by the hunters
of Banna to the holy god Silvanus, and suggests how these Roman
officers may have spent their leisure. The situation of "Banna" has
not been identified.
From Lanercost I visited Naworth Castle, but, interesting and
beautiful as it is, it hardly can find {179} a place in the limits of
this book. Now if only it could present a claim to be built of Roman
stones----!
From Naworth I made straight for Hayton-gate, on the Wall, to pick up
the thread at the right place. The farmer's wife came out and
followed me, as I turned westward along the Wall. I looked back
after a little. "Ye'll be thinking I'm following ye," she cried.
"It's they hens; they're awfu' for laying away." And with each dive
into the nettles, she brought out an egg.
The next farm is Randelands. Here the ground begins to slope down
towards Burtholme Beck, and the village of Burtholme is away on the
left. A mile-castle appears, covered more thickly with buttercups
and daisies than the rest of the field. To the north is Walton Wood,
which is so dense that the country people say that a stranger placed
there could never find his way out.
Before crossing the road which leads to the right to Garthside Farm,
I saw several strips of Wall in the hedge, the core including great
blocks of red sandstone, such as is used in the building of Lanercost
Priory. Oaks, hawthorns and alders were growing on the top, while
below was a perfect flower-garden--primroses, bluebells, campion,
speedwell, garlic and the greater stitchwort.
From the Garthside road, the Wall-ditch formed the boundary between a
field of wheat and a {180} hay-field, so I was able to follow it till
I came out into another lane at Howgill. Here in the farmyard I
began to search for the inscribed stone, mentioned by Dr. Bruce as
being in the wall of an outhouse. Two men were driving out a flock
of sheep, and in answer to my "Good day," one of them said: "I know
what ye're looking for; wait a bit and I'll show ye." He led me
through the farm-yard, and through a wicket-gate into a garden; and
there, lying on the ground, overgrown with moss, and almost buried in
ground-elder, was the stone. It seemed to me that it was much safer
when it was built into the outhouse. My guide said it was a long
time since he had shown it to anybody, and I could well believe it.
Dr. Bruce says of it: "It seems to record the achievements of a
British tribe, the Catuvellauni. Tacitus tells us that Agricola took
Southern Britons with him to the battle of Mons Graupius; Hadrian and
Severus may have been similarly accompanied in their expeditions."
From Howgill I had to turn north along the lane a little way in order
to strike the Wall again.
I soon came to Low Wall, the next farm, and now I began to have
visions of a glass of milk with my lunch. It was very quiet in the
farm-yard, and I guessed the household must be at dinner, and so it
proved.
The door on which I knocked opened straight {181} into the
living-room, and remains of soup and potatoes were on the table, from
which men and women were just rising.
Miss B----, the daughter, who answered my knock, insisted on taking
me into the parlour to eat my lunch, and when she had fetched some
milk, she sat and talked to me. She told me of their experiences
during the war, how they had had refugee Belgians close to them, at
Howgill--relays of Belgians, some quite nice, and others "a rough
lot." These last used to catch and eat the blackbirds, besides
sucking their eggs, and had made quite a stir in this quiet
neighbourhood.
My lunch finished, she took me back to the living-room, and
introduced me to her mother, a dear old lady of ninety-one. When I
told her I was walking to Bowness, she at once began to recall a
visit she had paid eighty years ago, when she had gone to stay at
Peartree House, Bowness, on account of her health. She made the
journey by canal, from Carlisle to Port Carlisle, and had evidently
enjoyed the whole experience. This canal was only open from 1823 to
1854.
When I got up to go, Miss B---- popped on her sunbonnet and came with
me. She showed me where a mile-castle had been excavated, in 1900,
in one of their fields, north of the house.
In the field north of Dovecote, I thought I saw traces of a turret,
but I could not be sure.
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The core of the Wall is now clearly to be seen, all the way to the
King Water, but both Wall and ditch disappeared in a field of young
corn which slopes down to the water's edge.
The King Water flows from north to south at this point, right across
the line of the Wall. As is so often the case with northern rivers,
it has a very steep bank on one side, while the ground slopes gently
down on the other. There is nothing to show how the Wall was carried
across this stream, but I found it very easily fordable, by
stepping-stones just where the Wall must have been. On this May day,
the steep western bank was a riot of colour. The colour of the earth
of the bank is red, almost pink, from the red sandstone; on it was
growing a perfect blaze of yellow broom. With a deep blue sky
overhead, and the fresh green of the grass and trees, the whole
colour-scheme was very much inclined to be garish--not to say
"Futurist"--in character!
I crossed the stream, and climbed the red bank, threading my way
between the bushes of broom, from which the bees were raising a
continuous drone. It was easy to pick up the Wall again on the top
of the cliff; a great ash was growing just on the Wall, at the
cliff's edge. On the right at this point a little stream runs into
the King Water, forming a natural Wall-ditch. Broom and blue-bells
made a harmony of blue and gold in its narrow gorge.
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I found it better now to descend into the road, which runs on the
left close by, keeping parallel to the Wall. It soon brought me into
the village of Walton (Wall-town), a pretty village, with delightful
views of the valley of the Irthing and of the Lake-mountains.
I followed the road past the Black Bull Inn, which stands on the
exact site of the Wall; and then, to keep the trail, I had to turn
off on the right, along a lane which led to a field-path to Sandysike
farm-house.
Here, in the hedge on my left, were Wall-stones once more.
The farm-buildings at Sandysike are very ancient-looking and
picturesque. There is a hexagonal cart-shed built of stone, with a
tiled roof, and an old barn, of brick, with strikingly lofty
round-headed arches; but I did not see the Roman sculptured stones of
which it boasts.
The track of the Wall can be followed down to the edge of the Cam
Beck, the ditch being our guide; but here for the first time I
deliberately abandoned it! I could not cross the Cam Beck where the
Wall had crossed it without getting very wet and dirty, and part of
my compact with myself was to keep clean and dry, if possible. The
river cuts its way at this point very deeply through the red
sandstone. Sheer red banks stand out of the water. A very high weir
across the stream would have made {184} crossing easier, but a large
tree-trunk had fallen over it, and blocked the way. Already grass
and plants were growing out of its slippery black sides.
Reluctantly I turned back, and took the path to Castlesteads, the
house of Mrs. Johnson, whose garden is on the site of a Roman fort.
The path brought me through woodland and shrubbery to a house which
proved to be the head gardener's. The barking of a dog produced the
gardener, who took me to the lawn which represents the centre of the
fort. A little summer-house at the edge of the lawn serves as
protection to a number of Roman altars, and other sculptures, found
within the fort.
They were all in the red sandstone of the neighbourhood, some covered
with a bright greenish-yellow lichen. The largest altar was
dedicated to Jupiter by the second cohort of the Tungrians.
The site of this fort lies between the Wall and the Vallum, which
latter curves to the south to avoid it. This was proved by
excavations made by Professor Haverfield and Mr. and Mrs. T. H.
Hodgson in 1902. They traced accurately the position of the Vallum
in this section of the fortifications for a distance of about 4
miles, from Garthside to the south of Cumrenton--a work needing
endless patience. On one occasion many trenches had been dug and
measurements taken, but Mr. Hodgson had not time to plot it all out
till the end of the season. When he did so, all the points where
{185} the Vallum had been struck fell into one straight line!
The walls and gateways of this fort appear to have been standing
until 1791, when the ground changed hands, and the house of
Castlesteads was built. Then the standing masonry was removed, and
the whole site levelled.
The gardener showed me the way from the back of the summer-house,
through woods that sloped down to the Cam Beck, to a little bridge
that crossed the stream and led me out of the grounds. And so I came
to Cambeck Hill Farm, which lies on the line of the Wall.
But I was not satisfied till I had traced the Wall back eastward
through the fields to the edge of the Cam Beck opposite the place
where I had failed to cross. The view from this side is most
striking, with the red sandstone walls, and the steep steps of the
weir. I was very glad I had not missed it. A Roman altar from
Castlesteads was built into this weir for a time, but some one put in
a plea for it, and it was rescued.
The field gate which leads to the river is in the Wall-ditch, which
at this point is cut deep out of the sandstone.
I tried to make the crossing from this side, but it was impossible.
It made it no easier that the wet sandstone was _soft_, as well as
slippery, and crumbled away under one's feet.
{186}
The next farm-house to Cambeck Hill is Beck, which is partly built of
Roman stones. A wooden foot-bridge over a beck is crossed just
before the farm is reached. Beyond Beck is Headswood, which stands
high up on a grassy knoll. The Wall-ditch and the Vallum-ditch can
be clearly seen from Beck, running up this grassy knoll, one to the
right, and the other to the left, of the farm and farm-buildings of
Headswood. Two or three minutes' walk and a short climb brought me
into the farm-yard, where a part of the Wall-ditch is used as a
duck-pond.
Just in front of the farm-buildings it has been filled up level with
the ground, for the convenience of traffic.
A short distance beyond Headswood I found the Wall itself again with
me.
The village of Newtown of Irthington soon came into sight. It has a
village green with a large pond. Its white-washed cottages stand on
three sides of this green, on which battalions of ducks and geese
were pluming themselves.
For the short distance between Newtown and White Flat, the "pilgrim
of the Wall" must leave the fields and follow the road towards
Irthington. On the left of the road, traces of a mile-castle are
visible.
Beyond White Flat the fields are ploughed, but the ditch could be
faintly discerned. The path {187} now ran through a meadow gay with
wild flowers, but there was more food for the botanist than for the
antiquarian. My thoughts were beginning to turn to another kind of
food, for it was after five o'clock, and it seemed a long time since
I was at Low Wall, though actually it was only three miles as the
crow flies.
I saw a substantial farm-house on my right, so I turned off in hopes
of getting at least some milk. My hopes were super-abundantly
realized. The farmer and his wife were on the point of sitting down
to tea themselves, having just driven back from Carlisle, and with
true northern hospitality they invited me to share their meal. I
shall not soon forget that visit, and the kindness shown to a pilgrim.
They showed me a centurial stone built into the wall of their house
just above the door, and protected by the wooden porch. Beside it
are two other Roman stones with very clear broaching. They told me
they had shown them to only one other visitor since they came to live
there eight years ago.
When I left, the farmer kindly insisted on coming with me as far as
the Wall, to make sure I did not miss my way. He brought me to the
"long strip of the Wall in an encouraging state" mentioned by Dr.
Bruce. It is planted with oaks--quite large trees; and its ditch at
this point is very impressive.
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It is in this neighbourhood that the Wall and the Vallum approach
each other within 35 yards.
At Old Wall, the next farm, many Roman stones are seen in the
buildings, and there are great piles of them lying in the roadway,
amongst them what looks like a lintel. The Wall-ditch is clearly
seen between the road and the house.
It came on to rain as I approached Old Wall, but, hoping that it
would not be much, I pushed on. I thought I could get to Wallhead
and then strike down into the Carlisle Road.
A drove-road runs along the site of the Wall, a grassy lane with high
hedges, so I could follow this; but before I reached Bleatarn the
rain came down in such torrents that I was compelled to leave the
Wall and get down into the main road as quickly as possible. So I
turned south until I saw ahead of me the gleam of the rain on a
macadamized surface. The rain was still streaming down, "like
knitting-needles," as some one has said, and there seemed to be no
one about. At High Crosby I inquired for an Inn, and was told there
was one at Low Crosby. By this time I was so wet I should have been
glad to get in anywhere, but the landlady of the Stag at Low Crosby
was quite uncompromising. "We don't give beds," said she. I asked
for supper. No, she could not give supper either. "Might I come in
and write a letter?" "Ay, ye can do that." So I threaded my way
{189} amongst the men who were sitting round little tables, with
their pipes and beer, in the only room of the Inn, conscious that I
was leaving a wet trail in the sawdust on the floor; and I found a
little table in a corner and wrote my letter. Then I called the
landlady, and, giving her a shilling, I asked if she could have my
letter delivered at a house in the neighbourhood early the next day.
She took the shilling and held it up between her finger and thumb.
"Do I deliver this with the letter?" said she.
"No; that's for yerself," came in a chorus from the men sitting
round, who had been taking more interest than I knew!
Just then there was a little whispering between the landlady and a
man who had just arrived. She came forward. "This gentleman says
that he and his wife will be pleased to take you into Carlisle in
their car, if you would like." Would I like? Could there be any
doubt? I was still four miles from Carlisle, and it was now dark,
and still pouring. So I accepted gladly, and was very soon set down
in the city, at the door of a nice quiet Temperance Hotel, suitable
for a pilgrim in my sodden state.
The next morning was clear and bright, and I made an early start for
Old Wall, in order to follow the stretch of Wall I had missed because
of the rain.
I will describe the walk from east to west as {190} before, although
I traversed it first from west to east.
As I drew near to Bleatarn from Old Wall, I noticed a tawny-brown
duck-pond on the right. This was part of the Wall-ditch.
Bleatarn itself is picturesquely situated on a grassy hill, above a
pond full of reeds (the "Blue Tarn"). The whitewashed farm-house is
very attractive. I called there for "a pot o' milk," as the guidwife
put it, and while she fetched it, I noticed through the open door
that the passage running through the house was not ceiled, but went
right up into the rafters, past two floors.
The Wall runs to the north of the farm-house and Tarn, so that it has
the steep grassy bank of the Tarn on its south side, and its own
ditch on the north. The latter is almost as bold in its proportions
here as at Gap.
The Vallum runs immediately south of the farm-house; and between it
and the Wall, on the west side of the farm-house, is a large mound.
This has been proved, by excavations made by Professor Haverfield and
Mr. and Mrs. Hodgson, to be rubbish from a quarry, worked in Roman
times, and still in use in mediæval times. Roman quarrymen's marks
were found; also mediæval pottery.
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