Northumberland Yesterday And To Day by Jean F. Terry (best novel books to read .txt) π
But, Nevertheless, This North-East Coast Of Ours Is At All Times
Inspiring, Whether Half-Hidden By Storm-Clouds, Its Cliffs And Hollows
Lashed By The "Wild North-Easter," Or Seen Calmly Brooding In The Warm
Haze Of A Summer's Day, Its Grey-Blue Water Smiling Beneath The
Grey-Blue Sky, And Its Stretches Of Sand And Bents Edging The Sea With A
Border Of Gold And Silver.
Read free book Β«Northumberland Yesterday And To Day by Jean F. Terry (best novel books to read .txt) πΒ» - read online or download for free at americanlibrarybooks.com
- Author: Jean F. Terry
Read book online Β«Northumberland Yesterday And To Day by Jean F. Terry (best novel books to read .txt) πΒ». Author - Jean F. Terry
Here To Morpeth Is Not Easy To Surpass In All The County, Though Several
Parts Of The Coquet Valley May Justly Compete With It. William Howitt
Has Left On Record His Admiration For This Lovely Region, And Said
Morpeth Was "More Like A Town In A Dream" Than A Reality. Especially Is
This So When Looking At The Town From The Neighbourhood Of The River.
Before Actually Reaching Morpeth The Wansbeck Waters The Fair Fields
That Once Held Newminster Abbey In Its Pride; Now, Nothing Remains But
An Arch Or So And A Few Stones, To Remind Us Of The Noble Abbey Which
Ralph De Merley Built So Long Ago. When Only Half Built It Was
Demolished By The Scots Under King David; But Willing Hands Set To Work
Again, And The Abbey And Monastery Were Completed.
In The Town Of Morpeth, Though Newer Buildings Are Stretching Out
Towards The Outskirts, Many Of The Ancient Buildings And Streets Remain,
And The General Aspect Of This Part Of It Is Much The Same As When The
Jacobites Of Northumberland Gathered Together Here, And The Clergyman,
Mr. Buxton, Proclaimed James Iii. In Its Market Place. Of Morpeth
Castle, Built By A De Merley Soon After The Conquest, Only The Gateway
Tower Remains, But The Outlines Of The Original Boundary Walls Can Be
Clearly Traced. A Company Of Five Hundred Scots, Whom Leslie Had Left As
A Garrison In 1644, Held Out Here For Three Weeks Against Two Thousand
Royalists Under Montrose. After The Cannonading Received During That
Siege, The Walls Were Not Repaired Again, And The Castle Fell Into
Decay. The Inhabitants Of Morpeth Have A Daily Reminder Of Times Yet
More Remote, For The Curfew Bell Still Rings Out Over The Little Town
Every Evening At Eight O'clock.
Another Walk Of Three Miles Along The Still Beautiful Banks Of The
Wansbeck Brings Us To Bothal, Another Little Village Of Great Beauty,
Embowered And Almost Hidden Amongst Luxuriant Woods. Its Curious Name Is
Derived From The Anglo-Saxon _Bottell_, A Place Of Abode (As In
Walbottle). The Name Conjures Up Memories Of The Knights Of Old, Their
Loves And Their Fortunes, Fair Or Disastrous; For The Best-Known Version
Of "The Hermit Of Warkworth" Tells Us That It Was A Bertram Of Bothal
Who Was The Luckless Hero Of That Tale, Though Another Version Avers
That He Belonged To The House Of Percy.
Wansbeck's Fellow Stream, The Coquet, Has Its Birth Amongst Some Of The
Wildest Scenery Of The Cheviot Hills, Where The Heights Of Deel's Hill
And Woodbist Law Look Down On The Now Silent Watling Street And The
Deserted Ad Fines Camp. In Its Windings Along The Bases Of The Hills It
Is Joined By The Usway Burn, Said To Be Named After King Oswy, Between
Which And The Little River Alwine Lies The Famous Lordship Of Kidland,
Once Desolate On Account Of The Thieving And Raiding Of Its Neighbours
Of Bedesdale And Scotland.
Hodgson, In His "Northumberland," Says Of This Region, "All The Said
Kydlande Is Full Of Lytle Hilles Or Mountaynes, And Between The Saide
Hilles Be Dyvers Valyes In Which Discende Litle Ryvvelles Or Brokes Of
Water, Spryngynge Out Of The Said Hilles And All Fallynge Into A Lytle
Rever Or Broke Callede Kidlande Water, W'ch Fallethe Into The Rever Of
Cockette Nere To The Towne Of Alwynntonn, W'tin A Myll Of The Castell Of
Harbottell." The Reasons For The Desolation Of Kidland Are Graphically
Set Forth:--"In Somer Seasons When Good Peace Ys Betwene England And
Scotland, Th'inhabitantes Of Dyv'se Townes Thereaboutes Repayres Up With
Theyr Cattall In Som'ynge (Summering) As Ys Aforesaid, And So Have Used
To Do Of Longe Tyme. And For The Pasture Of Theyr Cattall, So Long As
They Would Tarye There They Payed For A Knoweledge Two Pens For A
Household, Or A Grote At The Most, Though They Had Nev' So Many
Cattalles. And Yet The Poore Men Thoughte Their Fermes Dere Enoughe.
There Was But Fewe Yeres That They Escaped W'thout A Greatter Losse Of
Their Goodes And Cattalles, By Spoyle Or Thefte Of The Scottes Or
Ryddesdale Men, Then Would Have Paide For The Pasture Of Theyr Cattail
In A Much Better Grounde. And Ov' (Over, Besides) That, The Saide Valyes
Or Hopes Of Kidlande Lyeth So Distant And Devyded By Mounteynes One From
An Other, That Such As Inhabyte In One Of These Hoopes, Valeys, Or
Graynes, Can Not Heare The Fraye Outcrye, Or Exclamac'on Of Such As
Dwell In An Other Hoope Or Valley Upon The Other Side Of The Said
Mountayne, Nor Come Or Assemble To Theyr Assystance In Tyme Of
Necessytie. Wherefore We Can Not Fynde Anye Of The Neyghbours
Thereabouts Wyllinge Cotynnally To Inhabyte Or Plenyshe W'thin The Saide
Grounde Of Kydland, And Especially In Wynter Tyme."
These Reasons Were Given By The People Of "Cockdale" In The Neighbouring
Valley, To Account For The Desolation Of Kidland, Which Lay Open On The
Northward To Attacks From The Scots, And Had No Defence On The South
From The Rievers Of Redesdale. The Inhabitants Of Coquetdale Seem To
Have Been A Right Valiant And Hardy Fraternity, Honest And Fearless,
Well Able To Give Good Blows In Defence Of Their Possessions, For It Is
Left On Record That "The People Of The Said Cock-Dayle Be Best P'pared
For Defence And Most Defensyble People Of Themselfes, And Of The Truest
And Best Sorte Of Anye That Do Inhabyte, Endlonge, The Frounter Or
Border Of The Said Mydle M'ches Of England." The Traces Of These Days Of
Raid And Foray Are To Be Found In Abundance All Over Coquetdale, As
Indeed All Over Northumberland, In Pele-Tower And Barmkyn, Fortified
Dwelling And Bastle House.
Harbottle Castle Would Have A Good Deal To Tell, Could It Only Speak, Of
Siege And Assault From The Day When, "With The Aid Of The Whole County
Of Northumberland And The Bishopric Of Durham," It Was Built By Henry
Ii., Until, After The Union Of The Crowns, It Shared The Fate Of Many Of
The Border Strongholds, And Fell Into Gradual Decay, Or Was Used As A
Quarry From Which To Draw Building Material For New And Modern
Mansions. At Rothbury, A Pele-Tower Has Formed The Dwelling Of The
Vicars Of That Town From The Time That Any Mention Of Whitton Tower Is
To Be Found, It Being First Noticed As "Turris De Whitton, Iuxta
Rothebery." Rothbury Itself Occupies Quite The Finest Situation Of Any
Of The Northumbrian Towns. Others, Besides It, Lie On The Banks Of A
Pretty River; Others, Too, Possess Fair Meadows And Rich Pastures; But
None Other Has The Combination Of These Attractive Features With The
Finer Surroundings Of Hill, Crag, And Moorland As Picturesquely
Beautiful As Those Of Rothbury. In The Old Church Here Bernard Gilpin,
"The Apostle Of The North," Often Preached; And Even The Fierce Rival
Factions Of The Borderland Were So Influenced By The Gentle, Yet
Fearless Preacher, That They Consented To Forego Their Usual Pleasure Of
"Drawing" Whenever They Met One Of A Rival Family, At Least So Long As
Gilpin Dwelt Among Them, And Especially To Refrain From Showing Their
Hostility In Church.
There Are In Coquetdale, As Elsewhere, Memorials Of The Ancient British
Days In The Many Camps To Be Found On The Summits Of The Hills Near The
Town, On Tosson Hill And The Simonside Hills; And Not Camps Only, But
Barrows, Cist-Vaens, And Flint Weapons In Considerable Numbers. The
Magnificent View To Be Obtained, On A Clear Day, From Tosson Hill Or The
Simonsides Is One To Be Remembered; To The West And North Stretch The
Vales Of Coquet And Alwin, With The Rolling Heights Of The Cheviots
Bounding Them; Northward Are The Woods Surrounding Biddlestone Hall, The
"Osbaldistone Hall" Of Scot's _Rob Roy_, Awakening Memories Of Di
Vernon; Far To The Eastward A Faint Blue Haze Denotes The Distant
Coastline; While Southward, Over The Dales Of Rede And Tyne, The Smoke
Of Industrial Tyneside Lies On The Horizon, With The Spires And Towers
Of Newcastle Showing Faintly Against The Heights Of The Durham Side Of
The Tyne.
One Of The Chief Sights Of Rothbury Is The Beautiful Mansion Of Cragside
And The Wonderful Valley Of Debdon And Crag Hill, As Transformed By The
First Lord Armstrong Into A Paradise Of Beauty, Where Art And Nature Are
So Blended As To Make A Romantically Artistic Whole. Another Lovely Spot
On The Banks Of Coquet Is At Brinkburn, Where The Famous Priory Stands
Almost Hidden At The Foot Of Thickly Wooded Slopes. A Very Much Larger
Portion Of This Fine Priory Is Still Standing Than Is The Case With Many
Other Religious Houses Of The Same Age, For It Dates From The Reign Of
Henry I. The Story Is Told Of Brinkburn As Well As Of Blanchland, That A
Party Of Marauding Scots On One Of Their Forays Passed By The Priory
Without Discovering It In Its Leafy Bower; And So Overjoyed Were The
Monks At Their Escape That They Incautiously Rang The Bells By Way Of
Showing Their Delight. The Scots, Who Had Passed Out Of Sight But Not
Out Of Hearing, Immediately Returned On Their Tracks, And, Guided By The
Joyful Peal, Reached The Priory, Sacked The Buildings, And Then Set Them
On Fire. It May Well Be That The Tragedy Occurred At Both Places, On
Different Occasions.
Farther Eastward Down The Coquet Are Two Places Pre-Eminently Noted As
Centres For The Sport For Which The River Is Famed Above All Other
Northumbrian Streams, Though Some Of Them Are Worthy Rivals. These Two
Places Are Weldon Bridge And Felton; The Old Angler's Inn At The
First-Named Is A Favourite Rendezvous Of The Fraternity Of Rod And
Creel. Fishermen Have Long Known The Fascination Of These Two Places,
And I Quote From The "Fisherman's Garland" Two Stanzas Written By Two
Enthusiastic Anglers In Praise Of Them. The Writers Are Robert Roxby
And Thomas Doubleday.
"But We'll Awa' To Coquetside,
For Coquet Bangs Them A';
Whose Winding Streams Sae Sweetly Glide
By Brinkburn's Bonny Ha'!"
_Written In 1821_
"The Coquet For Ever, The Coquet For Aye!
The _Woodhall_ And _Weldon_ And _Felton_ So Gay,
And _Brinkburn_ And _Linden_, Wi' A' Their Sweet Pride,
For They Add To The Beauty Of Dear Coquetside."
_Written In 1826_
Felton, A Charmingly Placed Little Village, On The Banks Of The River
Where They Are Overhung By Graceful Woods, And Diversified By Cliff And
Grassy Slope, Stands Just Where The Great North Road Crosses The Coquet.
By Reason Of This Position It Has Been The Scene Of One Or Two Events Of
Historical Interest, Notably Those Connected With The "Fifteen" And The
"Forty-Five." On The Former Occasion, The Gallant Young Earl Of
Derwentwater, With His Followers, Was Joined Here By A Band Of Seventy
Gentlemen From The Borders, And They Rode On To Morpeth To Proclaim
James Iii. And Thirty Years Later, The Soldiers Of George Ii. Passed
Over The Bridge From The Southward, Led By The Duke Of Cumberland, And
Pressed On Towards The Scottish Moor Where They Dealt The Final Blow To
The Stuart Cause At Culloden. The Interesting Old Church At Felton,
Dating From The Thirteenth Century, Is Well Worth A Visit. After Leaving
Felton Behind, The Coquet Enters On The Most Marked Windings Of All Its
Winding Course, Until, When It Enters The Sea At Warkworth Harbour, Just
Opposite Coquet Island, It Has Contrived To Lengthen Out Its Journey To
A Distance Of Forty Miles.
The Bright Clear Stream Of The Aln Also Begins Its Short Journey Across
Northumberland From The Heights Of Cheviot, But In The Narrower
Northern Portion Of The County. Alnham, With Its Pele-Tower Vicarage,
Ancient Church, And Memories Of A Castle, Stands Just At The Foot Of The
Hills, Near The Source Of The River. Some Three Or Four Miles Eastward
Along Its Banks, A Walk Through Leafy Woods Brings Us To
Whittingham--The Final Syllable Of Which, By The Way, One Pronounces As
"Jam," As One Does That Of Nearly All The Other Place-Names Ending In
"Ing-Ham" In Northumberland, Contrary Though It Be To Etymological
Considerations--Excepting, Curiously Enough, Chillingham, Situated In
The Very Midst Of All The Others. The "Ing" And "Ham" Are In Themselves
A Historical Guide To The Days In Which The Various Villages Received
Their Names, These Two Syllables Being A Certain Indication Of A Saxon
Settlement, The "Home Of The Sons, Or Descendants Of" Whatever Person
The First Syllable Indicates. Thus, Edlingham, Only A Few Miles Away, Is
The "Home Or Settlement Of The Sons Of Eadwulf"; Ellingham, The "Home Of
The Sons Of Ella," And So On. How The "Whitt" Syllable Was Spelled We Do
Not Know; Most Probably Hwitta Or Hwitha--For All Our _Wh's_ Were _Hw_
Originally--_Hwaet, Hwa, Hwaether_ And So Forth.
This Ancient Village Is In These Days A Charming And Peaceful Place,
Lying In The Midst Of Rich Meadow Lands, And Surrounded By Magnificent
Trees. It Had Its Romances, Too, In The Course Of Years; So Long Ago As
The Days Of
Comments (0)