Thursday 25 June 2015

St Cuthbert's Way Part IV



As a self styled gangril or wanderer, this leg of the Way was taking me to the realm of the most well known of the nomads, the gypsies.
Yetholm, for centuries the home of the gypsy kings and annual meeting place for the travelling people.


Setting out, I soon wandered off the track to Linton Kirk with its story of the Linton Worm. 
The frieze above the kirk door is Norman as is the font, dating from the 12th century when the kirk stood on a sandy knoll above a loch, long since drained, that was the lair of the Linton Worm. The serpent was killed by John Somerville.

There are lots of stories of giant worms in the ballads of north-east England and southern Scotland.
The Lambton Worm, the Lailly worm. The Laidly worm. Are they all versions of the same story? Are they a memory of the overcoming of the Anglo-Saxon mythology with its dragons and serpents like Grendel, slain by Beowulf, by the coming of Christianity.




The frieze or tympanum shows a horseman with a falcon on his shoulder thrusting his lance into one of two wolves or bears and, to my eyes, seems a hunting scene rather than the depiction of the killing of the worm but that's what the legend says it is
A family history was written by James Somerville, 11th Lord Somerville in 1679. He related that William the Lion made John Somerville, his falconer, baron of Linton in Roxburghshire for killing a monstrous worm in 1174. The Worm of Linton was three Scots yards long and coloured like an adder. After stalking the beast for several days, Sir John killed it with a long iron-clad lance with a Catherine wheel fitted near its point. From this exploit, the Somervilles used a wyvern in their heraldry.

The sundial, dated 1699, on the corner of the kirk, reminded me that I should be making tracks for Yetholm.





A bridge across the Kale Water to me to the start of a long steep climb up to the summit of Grubbit Law with great views right up to the Lammermuirs. As I get older, I find that I stop to admire the view a lot more often.



 
Another ascent to me up to the top of the aptly named Wideopen Hill, at 1207 feet, both the highest point and the halfway mark of the Way.

It was here that my path crossed that of Barney going north on his long distance walk from Lands End to John o' Groats, A black retriever with an engaging personality, he was taking his two owners on a long trek for the Blind Dogs charity
https://www.justgiving.com/BarneysLongWalk/

Down in the Bowmont valley, the twin villages of Town Yetholm and Kirk Yetholm came into sight..


Descending from Wideopen, to follow the Bowmont Water into Kirk Yetholm meant a fair bit of road walking but, eventually, I got on to the Back Dykes path beside Yetholm Loch and then into Kirk Yetholm.


The Pennine Way, another path for wanderers, ends at Kirk Yetholm.



 Kirk Yetholm has been the traditional meeting place for the gypsies since 1506


The stone commemorating the gypsy people of Yetholm

Ten thousand people are said to have descended on Kirk Yetholm for the coronation of the Gypsy King in 1898!


The cottage of the Gypsy King


The cottage of the Gypsy King is now available for holiday lets.
Tempora mutantur et nos mutamur in illis

Town Yetholm is equally attractive with its shady green, wild flower verges and thatched houses.





 This gangril had had enough for the day. The next leg to Wooler across the Cheviots looks fairly challenging.

Monday 22 June 2015

St Cuthbert's Way Part III



Crossing the Teviot

Leaving Harestanes, a walk through the woods took me to the Teviot suspension bridge then the path took a left turn to follow the river. Left was to be the motif for the day.

From the bank of the Teviot the path turns to the Jed Water then crossing that river, it resumes the straight and narrow that is Dere Street. Like the path of righteousness, it eschews any deviation to make life easier, climbing and descending steeply in a straight line passing through what is still called the Roman Wood.

Peniel Heugh from the Roman wood





I crossed the Oxnam water under the site of the long gone Roman fort at Cappuck, home for a while to the Twentieth Legion, then left again to leave Dere Street and climb up to bring the Cheviots into view.

There in front of me was Cessford Castle, the formidable keep of the Ker family, the fore bearers of the Duke of Roxburghe.
The Kers were well known for their left-handedness giving rise to the local description of any left hander as being “kerry-fisted” or “kerry-pawed”.

The village of Cessford which nestled around the castle was cleared after the Enclosure Acts when the local landowners, the Macdougall family, like so many others throughout Scotland, moved the people from their small- holdings into organised villages and consolidated their lands into larger more economic units which became the basis for the modern farming system. The land did become more productive and there were winners but there were also losers and, in the old Statistical Accounts kept by the parish ministers, the number of paupers was shown as increasing. The Clearances didn't just happen in the Highlands.

Site of old Cessford village

Taking another diversion to the left, I followed the Cessford Burn into the wooded dene below the old village and, after a deal of scrambling and being stung by nettles and pricked by thistles, managed to find Habie Ker's cave.

The cave entrance

Habie, or sometimes, Hobie Ker was Robert Ker (1570-1650) head of the Ker family and Warden of the Middle March, charged with controlling the lawless reivers of the Border lands. He was renowned for his ruthlessness and his summary executions, a feature known locally as Jedddart Justice after the old name for Jedburgh.  There was a tree close by his castle known as the Crow Tree for obvious reasons
The cave is man made and was constructed as a hiding place though Robert Ker doesn't sound like the type of man who would hide from anyone.

Cessford Castle

Cessford Castle is still impressive even after seven centuries and several attacks. Its massive walls withstood cannonade and attempts to blow them up and, eventually, it was burnt from within after being surrendered.

After the castle, it was hard road walking into Morebattle but the Cheviot views helped to take the mind off the feet.

Is this magnificent ash a descendant of Habie Ker's Crow Tree?

Sunday 21 June 2015

Summer solstice 2015




Today, being the summer solstice, the longest day, I took myself to the highest point of the headland to witness the sunrise over the sea. 0425h was the appointed time and, with something of a struggle, I roused from my slumbers to drive up the winding path to the lighthouse.
Unfortunately, the bank of cloud on the horizon spoiled the effect, masking the actual sunrise. Still, the sky was infused with subtle colours as the rays filtered through, turquoises, pinks, and mauves, and all to the continuous accompaniment of cawing and screaming from the colonies of guillemots. kittiwakes and razorbills on the cliffs beneath.
I met charming young couple waiting, like me, for the sun rise, who said they had seen dolphins or maybe porpoises off-shore earlier but they had gone by the time I arrived.


Back home, I read in yesterday's news that a 2500 year old, Bronze Age “sun disc” made from gold, was to be on show in Wiltshire. I couldn't help wondering if the owner of the disc had risen from his bed and trekked to some high point at sunrise on the longest day, two and a half millennia ago and what the sunrise had meant to him or her. 


Lack of sleep can make you fanciful!


For some, it is just another working day!

Tuesday 2 June 2015

St Cuthbert's Way Part II



From St Boswells, the Way follows the great S-bend of the Tweed crossed by the Mertoun bridge carrying the road to Kelso, then along the haughs and through the woods to Maxton. The bird life on this stretch, even at mid-day, was eye-catching. Herons, dippers, goosanders, mute swans, mallards, rooks, buzzards, swallows and martins were busy going about their business. 

The Crystal Well

I came to the Crystal Well on a bank of bluebells and ransomes. Apparently, at one time, water was pumped from there to Benrig House above the bank by simple ram pump powered by a donkey doomed to walk in circles in a grotto above the source.
Maxton Kirk

A climb up from the river took me to Maxton Kirk and from there to Maxton village. It is claimed that John Duns Scotus, the medieval philosopher, the “subtil doctor” was born at Littledean tower near Maxton in 1265 though, as his Latinised name suggests, he is more often associated with Duns in Berwickshire. His theological opponents called his followers “dunces” and the name survived as an abusive term.

Littledean
There was a St Cuthbert's well at Maxton but apparently it disappeared in some road improvement scheme









Looking back to the Eildons from Maxton

After a fair amount of road walking, I was directed on to the old Roman road, Dere Street. 
The praefectus fabrum must be spinning in his grave at the muddy track his road has become.






Still straight, parallel to its modern counterpart, the A68, it marches south past Ancrum Moor and Lilliard's edge with the memorial to its eponymous but probably fabricated heroine and her exploits at the battle of Ancrum Moor where, for once, the Scots won.
 The mercenaries, the Kers and the Turnbulls, who were “free lances”, hired for the fray, swapped sides as the battle went the way of the Scots.


Straight into the distance, the old Roman road


DereStreet and The Way continues on to Harestanes past Peniel Heugh with its Waterloo Monument. Because of the topography and its position in the landscape, the tower can be seen for miles across the Borders, making it familiar to many who have never been actually been near it.

Waterloo Monument


To the south west of the Way there is a standing stone at Harrietsfield, a reminder that folk passed along this route long before even the Romans came by.


Through the woods to Harestanes, then, by road, out of the Monteviot estates to the village of Ancrum and the start of a three bus journey back home.
 That's two stages done many more to go.