St Cuthbert's Way Part VI

Wooler to Fenwick, the penultimate lap. It had to be easier than the last. Only eleven or so miles. It started with a pleasant stroll by the Wooler Water but soon it was climbing again up on to Weetwood Moor. This must have been a place of significance in Neolithic times with its boulder strewn heather slopes and its enigmatic cup and ring carvings. A gathering place... perhaps, a place of ritual or social functions. 

The piles of stones bear witness to previous structures long since gone, their components recycled into walls and sheep-folds.

http://www.stone-circles.org.uk/stone/weetwood3.htm 

As Macdiarmid says " There are plenty of ruined buildings in the world but no ruined stones"

The stones survive.

Coming down from the moor, I crossed the Till, the only English tributary of the Tweed, at the Weetwood bridge and climbed steadily past the Hortons - West and East, to cross the Devil's Causeway, part of another old Roman road to Hazelrigg.
Looking back, Wooler could be seen nestling in the Cheviots.

 From here the Way follows the contours of the last ridge before the coast, then ascends to St Cuthbert's cave.

An arresting sight, the overhang where it is said, the monks rested with the saint's body as they fled from the Norse raiders at Lindisfarne. The cave is disfigured by centuries of graffiti gouged into the soft sandstone but is still a place to stir the imagination.

Two of the approach stones have vertical grooves on them, probably caused by water rivulets running down them, reminiscent of those on the "singing" Duddo stones.  On one, a horizontal crack creates a cross shape no doubt regarded as spiritually significant by pilgrims.

From the cave another climb took me to the top of the ridge and a view of my destination - Holy Island.

Holy Island with its castle

Downward into Fenwick, through the woods and picking up the signs for St Oswald's Way that goes to Hadrian's Wall, I realised that time was running out to make a connection with the bus service on the A1.

Not a squirrel in sight

 

 Hurrying along Dolly Gibson's Lonnen, surely a local version of loaning, then into the village itself, I could only manage a passing glance as I broke into a jog to get me to the bus stop. I caught it with four minutes to spare.

Only one short lap to do, the Pilgrim's Way, across the sands to Lindisfarne.

St Cuthbert's Way Part V

 Well, that's the hardest bit past.    Kirk Yetholm to Wooler, across the moors, across the Cheviots, across the Border, across a landscape marked by the stones of ancient sites, by paths taken through the hills for thousands of years by countless feet...and mine.

The climb to the Border fence was not as steep as anticipated and the legs were still fresh. As the day wore on the uppy and downy bits became a bit more trying on the knee joints.

The Border

This part of the walk is the end of the Pennine way, little do the weary walkers know the last mile or so is a steep hill into Kirk Yetholm.

 Pressing on in the other direction, I dropped down to the Elsdon burn then through a wood giving thanks to the helpful soul(s) who had tied red marker tapes to the trees as the path wasn't that easy to find.    Elsdonburn farm led on to a bit of road walking past low slopes that still showed the marks of cultivation terraces used from prehistoric times.

Cultivation terraces on White Hill

 Every hill top seemed to have the ruins of its own Iron Age fort or Bronze Age burial cairn.

 The road led down the valley and to the beautiful College Burn at Hethpool. 

College Burn

A restful moment leaning on the bridge was rewarded by a dipper bobbing on a stone before plunging into the stream

Another climb from the valley was broken by a diversion to the get a recharge of negative ions from the cascade of Hethpool Linn, a great addition to my collection of wee waterfalls.

- and to see the marsh orchids blooming on the path to the burn.

Another break - I was beginning to take more of these - gave me a chance to explore the remains of a Neolithic settlement whose stones had been pillaged in the past to build a sheepfold.

Onwards, towards Yeavering Bell, with its huge hill-fort and then another climb up on to the moors and a long slog past the prominence of Tom Tallon's Crag.

Tom Tallon's Crag

A missed marker resulted in a deviation from the Way and an annoying detour to pick it up again as it came off Coldberry Hill. Still, nothing lost, except a few views.

I had noticed the occurrence of large boulders at intervals all the way along the route and wondered if they were way-marks from earlier times when these hills were more populous and travellers tended to keep to the higher, drier ground away from the marshy valley bottoms.

Marker stone

A bridle way and a woodland walk, clearly marked this time, took me past yet another hill-fort, Kettles Fort, and down from Wooler Common into the town itself. 

Kettles hill-fort

A seat on the Terrace and a pot of tea were the perfect antidote to weary limbs and sore feet.

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 12^th 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.

 http://scottishwildlifetrust.org.uk/reserve/yetholm-loch/#go-tabs-1

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

http://www.gypsypalace.co.uk/info.html

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.

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?

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.

St Cuthbert's Way Part I

When something is on your doorstep, it's easy to overlook. Saint Cuthbert's Way starts at Melrose and ends just down the coast at Holy Island. I've been meaning to walk it for more than ten years but kept postponing it for journeys further afield. Initially, it was to be a continuous walk of the sixty miles from start to finish, b-and-b-ing or hosteling en route but now I'm content to do it in sections even if it means somewhat circuitous bus journeys before and after each section.

Melrose Abbey

The first leg is from Melrose Abbey up the fairly steep and, after our recent weather, very muddy path to the saddle between the East and Middle Eildon hills. The cold northerly wind was still blowing but at least it was behind me. Once over the hump and into the lea of the big hills, the going was easier and the wind chill factor considerably less.

Dark Ruberslaw ( Blog 06/04/2015)

Past the Siller Stane at the foot of the East Eildon then through the woods towards Bowden. The distinctive call of the cuckoo, a herald of summer, carried through the trees from the slopes of Mid Eildon. belying the cold breeze.

Bowden is an attractive village with a restored pant well at its centre.

 A pant is a covered public well, once a widespread feature of towns but now relatively uncommon. A short deviation from the Way took me to Bowden Kirk once part Kelso Abbey. There is a memorial to a notable Bowden man, Sir Lauder Brunton who pioneered the use of amyl nitrate as a vasodilator in angina and digitalis in cardiac failure.

The path got muddier as I followed the banks of the Bowden burn into Newtown St Boswells – a town that was “new” in the 1600's. The time scales in this part of the world are very long.

The path was fringed with spring flowers – lady's smock, viper bugloss, primroses and dog violets.

A diversion across the Tweed takes you to the secluded Dryburgh Abbey, a foundation by Praemonstratensians or White Canons in 1130. Sir Walter Scott is buried here.

Dryburgh Abbey

 Lore has it that his horse drawing his funeral bier stopped at his favourite view en route to his burial (Blog 07/05/2015) 

The Way continued through a small glen to the banks of the Tweed and followed the river to St Boswells.   A deal of splashing in some overhanging undergrowth made me think of the otters that are regularly seen on the Tweed but it turned out to be mallards involved in some anatine dispute.

I did see a pair of goosanders as well as the mute swans and the mallards

Goosander

St Boswells has a great cafe cum bookshop... The Main Street Trading Company... a relaxing place to wait for the bus home.

www.mainstreetbooks.co.uk 

 The Eildons above the Tweed at St Boswells