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Limits Of Quite A

Short Stroll One May Visit The Pin Well, A Wishing Well Of Which There

Are So Many Examples To Be Found Wherever One May Travel; The King's

Chair, A Porphyry Crag On The Hill Above The Pin Well; Maiden Castle,

Or, Less Euphoniously, Kettles Camp, An Ancient British Encampment On

The Same Hill, The Kettles Being Pot-Like Cavities In The Ravines

Surrounding It; And The Cup And Saucer Camp, Just Half A Mile Distant

From Wooler. The Golf Course Is Now Laid Out On These Same Heights.

 

To Reach The Cheviots From Wooler, The Most Usual Way Is By The

Beautiful Glen In Which Lies Langleeford. The Bright Streamlet Known As

The Wooler Water Runs Through It From Cheviot On Its Way To The Town

From Which It Has Taken Its Present Name; Formerly It Was Known As

Caldgate Burn. It Was At Langleeford That Sir Walter Scott Stayed, As A

Youth, In 1791, With His Uncle, After They Had Vainly Attempted To Find

Accommodation In Wooler. Here They Rode, Fished, Shot, Walked, And Drank

The Goat's Whey For Which The District Was Famous In Those Days And For

Long Afterwards.

 

Cheviot Itself, Or "The Muckle Cheviot," Is A Huge Cumbrous-Looking

Mass, With Rounded Sides And Flat Top, Boggy And Treacherous, Where,

Nevertheless, Many Wild Berries Brighten The Marshy Flats In Their

Season. The Name "Cheviot" Is Said To Mean "Snowy Ridge" And Well Does

This Highest Summit Of The Range Merit The Name, For On Its Marshy Top

And In The Rocky Chasms Of Henhole And Bazzle, The Winter's Snow Often

Lies Until Far Into The Summer. Down Through The Weird And Fairy-Haunted

Cleft Of Henhole, As We Have Seen, The Little Brown Stream Of Colledge

Water Splashes Its Way, Breaking Into Golden Foam Between Mossy Banks As

It Reaches The Outlet, And Turns Northward To Join The Till.

 

This Little Burn Is One Of The Prettiest Of Mountain Streams; And In The

District Surrounding It Are Perhaps More Points Of Interest Than Any

Other Stream Of Such Inconsiderable Dimensions Can Show, Saving Only Its

Neighbour, The Till. The Whole Of The Surrounding Country, Wild, Lonely,

And Romantic, Teems With Memories And Reminders Of The Past. Sir Walter

Scott, While On The Visit Already Referred To, Found An Additional

Pleasure In The Presence Of So Many Relics Of Ancient Days In The

Neighbourhood. "Each Hill," He Wrote To A Friend, "Is Crowned With A

Tower, Or Camp, Or Cairn, And In No Situation Can You Be Near More

Fields Of Battle."

 

Indeed, The Whole District Of The Cheviots, And The Lower Lines Of

Swelling Hills Into Which The Land Subsides As It Nears The Sea, Is

Crowded With The Memorials Of An Earlier Race; From Every Hill-Top And

Rocky Height They Speak With Tantalising Half-Revelations Of That Race

Which The Romans Found Here When Their Galleys Brought Them To The Land

Which Was To Them Ultima Thule. No Convincing Explanation Has Yet Been

Found Of The Concentric Circular Markings, With Radiating Grooves From

The Cup-Shaped Hollow In The Middle, Which Are Scored On The Rocks

Wherever Traces Of An Ancient Camp Are Found; And The Numbers Of These

Traces Are Proof That This District Was Once A Very Thickly Populated

Part Of Britain.

 

And When Angle And Saxon Were Driving The Early Inhabitants Before Them,

Westward And Southward, These Hills And Valleys Still Sheltered A

Considerable Population; And Bede Tells Us Of A Royal Residence Not Far

Away, At The Foot Of The Well Known Yeavering Bell, One Of The More

Important Hills Of The Range. It Rises To A Height Of More Than 1,100

Feet, And Then Abruptly Ends In A Wide, Almost Level Top, Grass-Grown

And Boulder-Strewn, And Crowned Near The Centre With A Roughly-Piled

Cairn. The Ancient Name Of Yeavering Bell, As Given By Bede In His

Account Of The Labours Of St. Paulinus, Was Ad-Gefrin.

 

To Recall The Days When King Edwin And His Queen, Ethelburga, Came Here

From The Royal City Of Bamburgh, We Must Go Back To A Time Nearly Forty

Years After The Bernician Chieftain, Ida, Established Himself In That

Rocky Fortress, From Whence He Ruled A District Roughly Corresponding To

The Present Counties Of Durham And Northumberland, And Known As

Bernicia. One Of Ida's Successors, Ethelric, Overcame The Tribe Of

Angles Then Established In The Neighbouring District Of Deira--The

Yorkshire Of To-Day. His Successor, Ethelfrith, Ruled Over The United

District, And Married The Daughter Of Ella, The Vanquished Chieftain.

Her Brother, Edwin, He Drove Into Exile, And The Young Prince Found

Refuge At The Court Of Redwald Of East Anglia, Where He Remained For

Some Years.

 

Redwald's Friendship, However, Does Not Seem To Have Been Above

Suspicion, For We Find That Ethelfrith's Bribe Had On One Occasion

Nearly Induced Him To Give Up His Guest, Whose Life, However, Was Saved

By Redwald's Wife Who Turned Her Husband From His Purpose. In His Exile

The Thoughts Of The Young Prince Often Turned Towards His Own Land; And,

Once, As He Sat Brooding Over His Misfortunes, He Saw In A Vision One

Who Came And Spoke Comforting Words To Him, Saying That He Should Yet Be

King And That His Reign Should Be Long And Glorious. "And If One Should

Come To Thee And Repeat This Sign," Said The Stranger, Laying His Right

Hand On Edwin's Head "Wouldst Thou Hearken To His Rede?" Edwin Gave His

Word, And The Vision Fled. Some Little Time After This, Ethelfrith Of

Northumbria, As The United Districts Were Now Called, Fell In Battle

Against Redwald, And Edwin, Returning Northward, Became Ruler Of

Northumbria, The Sons Of Ethelfrith Fleeing In Their Turn Before The New

King. Edwin Wedded, As His Second Wife, Ethelburga, Daughter Of That

King Of Kent In Whose Days Augustine Came To England; And Being A

Christian Princess, She Brought With Her A Priest To Her New Home In The

North. The Priest's Name Was Paulinus; And One Day He Went To The King

And, Placing His Right Hand On Edwin's Head, Asked If He Knew That Sign.

Edwin Remembered, And Redeemed His Promise. He Hearkened To The Teaching

Of The Earnest Monk, With The Result That Before Long He And His Court

Were Baptised By Paulinus, Edwin's Little Daughter, It Is Said, Being

The First To Receive The Sacred Rite.

 

This Was At York; And When The King And Queen Went To The Royal City Of

Bamburgh, Or To Their Country Dwelling At The Foot Of The Cheviots,

Paulinus Accompanied Them; And Wherever He Went, He Laboured To Teach

The North-Country Angles And Saxons The Gospel Of Christ. This Country

Dwelling, To Which Came Paulinus And His Royal Friends, Was Ad-Gefrin,

Or Yeavering; And Though It Is Extremely Unlikely That Any Traces Of It

Could Remain Until Our Day, Yet Tradition Points Out A Fragment Of An

Old Building Still Standing There, As A Remnant Of The Royal Residence.

 

In The Region Of Kirknewton, A Pretty Little Village To The North-West

Of Yeavering, Where Colledge Water Joins The Glen, Which Gives Its Name

To The Romantic District Of Glendale, Paulinus Baptised Many Hundreds Of

Edwin's People; And The Name Of Pallinsburn--Which Is Now Confined To A

House At Some Little Distance From The Burn--Enshrines The Memory Of

Yet Another Scene Of The Labours Of The Indefatigable Monk.

 

If We Stand On The Wind-Swept Top Of Yeavering Bell, We Are Surrounded

By The Evidences Of Still More Remote Days, For The Whole Of The Summit

Was Once A Fortified Camp Of The Ancient Britons. A Roughly-Piled, But

Massive Wall, Now Almost All Broken Down, Surrounded It, And Within Its

Grass-Grown Oval Are Two Additional Walls, At The East And The West Ends

Of The Enclosure, And Many Hut-Circles, Evidences Of The Rude Dwellings

Of Our Remote Ancestors. Excavations Here Many Years Ago Brought To

Light A Jasper Ball, Some Fragments Of A Coarse Kind Of Pottery, And

Some Oaken Armlets. Evidently The Enclosure On The Summit Was Intended

To Be A Last Resort In Time Of Danger, For Traces Of Many Huts Are To Be

Found Outside Its Encircling Wall, Which Is Surrounded By A Ditch And A

Low Rampart Of Earth. At The East End, Where The Porphyry Crag Juts Out

From The Hilltop To A Height Of About Twenty Feet, Full Advantage Has

Been Taken Of This Naturally Strong Position.

 

Now, Instead Of Advancing Foes, The Spreading Heather Climbs Steadily Up

The Sloping Sides Of This Ancient Stronghold, And Invades The Central

Enclosure At Its Will; A Few Hardy Sheep That Have Wandered Up Here From

The Richer Pastures Below, And Now And Again A Stray Tourist, Anxious To

Make Acquaintance At First Hand With One Of The More Famous Of The

Cheviot Heights, And More Than Satisfied With The Glorious View Spread

Out Before Him, Are All That Disturb The Brooding Peace Of Its Grassy

Solitudes. Up Here The Wind Blows Keenly Around Us With An Exhilarating

Freshness In Its Breath, And We Think Regretfully Of Coats Left Behind

At The Shepherd's Hospitable Dwelling, Which, With The Rest Of The

Cottages Clustering Round The Old Farm House, Lies Sunning Itself In The

Warm Glow Of The September Afternoon, In The Green Fields At The Foot

Of The Sheltering Hills.

 

Looking Southward Now, Up The Stream, There Is Stretching Away To The

Left The Long Ridge Of Newton Tor, And Away Behind It Great Hetha And

Little Hetha; While Half-Way Down The Vale The Colledge Water Tumbles

Over The Rocks At Hethpoole Linn (Or Heathpool, As The Modern Rendering

Has It), Breaking Into Amber Spray Deep Down Beneath Overhanging Trees

And Boulders And Golden Bracken.

 

This Brings Our Thoughts To Days Comparatively Modern, For When Admiral

Collingwood Was Raised To The Peerage Of Great Britain, It Was By The

Title Of "Baron Collingwood Of Caldburn And Hethpoole, In The County Of

Northumberland." The Brave Admiral Was Fond Of Planting An Oak Tree

Whenever He Found An Opportunity, To Secure The Continuance Of Those

Wooden Walls Which In His Hands, And In Those Of His Life-Long Friend,

Nelson, Had Proved Such A Sure Defence To His Country. In A Letter Dated

March, 1806, He Wrote To His Wife, "I Wish Some Parts Of Hethpoole Could

Be Selected For Plantations Of Larch, Oak, And Beech, Where The Ground

Could Best Be Spared. Even The Sides Of A Bleak Hill Would Grow Larch

And Fir." In Another Letter Some Months Later He Told Her What

"Agreeable News" It Was To Hear That She Was Taking Care Of His Oaks,

And Planting Some At Hethpoole; And Saying That If He Ever Returned He

Would Plant A Good Deal There; Adding, However, That He Feared Before

That Could Take Place Both He And Lady Collingwood Might Themselves Be

Planted In The Churchyard Beneath Some Old Yew Tree.

 

Hethpoole Presents Us With A Link Not Only With History, But With

Romance As Well. An Ivied Ruin Near At Hand, With Walls Of Enormous

Strength, Is Said To Be The Remains Of The Castle Where The Final

Tragedy In "The Hermit Of Warkworth" Took Place. Here, It Is Said, The

Distracted Lover Came Upon His Lady And His Brother, Who Had At That

Moment Effected Her Escape, And Not Recognising The Youth, Rushed Upon

The Pair With Drawn Sword, Only To Discover Too Late His Terrible

Mistake, And Lose Both Brother And Bride--For The Lady Received A Mortal

Wound In Trying To Save Her Rescuer.

 

Turning Our Eyes Now Northward Across The Glen From Yeavering Bell, We

Are Looking Towards Coupland Castle, And The Fact That It Was Built So

Late As The Reign Of James I. Bears Eloquent Testimony To The Insecurity

Of Life And Property On The Borders Even At That Period. The Barony

Either Gave Its Name To, Or Took Its Name From, A Well-Known

Northumbrian Family, Of Which One Of The Most Prominent Members Was That

Sir John De Coupland Who Succeeded In Capturing David Of Scotland At The

Battle Of Neville's Cross--Not, However, Before He Had Lost Some Of His

Teeth By A Blow From The Mailed Fist Of That Doughty Monarch!

 

Beyond Coupland Castle We Look Across Milfield Plain Lying In The Angle

Formed By The Meeting Of The Glen With The Deep And Sullen Till, Whose

Slow Windings Can Be Traced As It Gleams At Intervals Between The

Undulations Of The Lower Hills Through Which It Flows Northwestward To

The Tweed. Though A Brisk And Sparkling Stream In Certain Parts Of Its

Course, The General Characteristics Of The Till Are Well Borne Out By

The Lines--

 

  Tweed Says To Till

  "What Gars Ye Rin Sae Still?"

  Till Says To Tweed

  "Though Ye Rin Wi' Speed

  And I Rin Slaw;

  Where Ye Droon Ae Man

  I Droon Twa."

 

There Is Yet More Of Historical And Traditional Interest To Note In This

View From The Top Of Yeavering Bell, Which, As I Saw It Last, Lay Warm

In The Glow Of A September Afternoon. Nennius Is Our Authority For

Stating That On Milfield Plain

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