Chapter XVI: 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.

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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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