Jean F. Terry

“ In keeping with either mood of nature, the ancient Priory of Tynemouth, standing on the sandstone cliffs on the northern bank of the Tyne, rearing its grey and roofless walls above the harbour mouth, strikes a note that is symbolic of the Northumbria of old and the Northumberland of to-day—the note, that is, of the intimate commingling of the romance of the warlike past and the romance of the industrial present. ”

“ Northward from Holy Island, but on the mainland, lies Goswick, from whose red sandstone quarries came the material for building the Abbey of Lindisfarne. Further north we come in sight of the coal pits and smoke of Scremerston, while beyond it, Spittal and Tweedmouth bring us right up to Berwick-on-Tweed itself, that grey old Border town which has seen so many turns of fortune, and been harried again and again, only to draw breath after each wild and cruel interlude, and go calmly on its quiet way until it was once more called upon to fight for its very existence. ”

“ Here the Allen flows into the South Tyne, and nowhere in the whole of the county is there a more beautiful and romantic scene. By the side of the stream the Ridley woods stretch for a mile or two, and the delightful mingling of graceful ferns, overhanging trees, tall, rugged cliffs, flowering plants, and sparkling waters forms a succession of lovely scenes throughout their length, which, with the play of lights and shadows on the dimpled surface of the stream, and frequent glimpses of grassy glades and cool green alleys, make a walk through these enchanting woods an unforgettable delight. ”

“ Here, in this beautiful spot, almost under the shadow of the castle walls belonging to his noble friend, the sorrowing knight, now a holy hermit, spent the remainder of his life in the little dwelling he had wrought in the living rock. It remains to-day more beautiful, if possible, than ever, overhung by a canopy of waving greenery, and draped with ferns and mosses, their graceful fronds laved by the rippling Coquet whose gentle murmurings fill the still air with music. ”

“ Returning down the Cor burn to the Tyne, our way lies eastward by the side of the river, which here, after splashing and sparkling over the shallows below Corbridge, narrows again to a deeper stream of swifter current, and flows between green meadows and leafy woods, fern-clad steeps and level haughs, all the way down to Ryton, where the picturesque aspect of the river ceases, and it becomes an industrial waterway. ”

“ I count myself dead, for my heart beats slow. Think now to avenge me. Raise my banner and shout ‘Douglas!’ and let neither my friends nor my foes know of my state, lest the one rejoice and the other be discomforted.” His dying commands were obeyed; and while his battle-cry was raised anew, his dead body was laid by a “bracken bush,” and the fact of his death concealed from friend and foe alike. The furious onslaught of the Scots now carried all before them; and Hotspur fell a captive to the sword of Sir Hugh Montgomery, a nephew of Douglas, after a fierce hand-to-hand encounter. ”

“ From this point to its mouth, nearly fifteen miles away, both banks of the Tyne present an unbroken scene of industry. Between the steel works of Newburn and the iron and chemical works, the brick and tile works of Blaydon and past the famous yards of Elswick, down to the wharves and shipyards of North and South Shields, the Tyne rolls its swift dark waters through a scene of stirring activity; the air is dusky with soot and smoke, and reverberant with the clang of hammers and the pulsing beat of machinery. ”

“ Thy tower, proud Bamburgh, marked they there, King Ida’s castle, huge and square, From its tall rock look grimly down And on the swelling ocean frown. Then from the coast they bore away And reached the Holy Island’s bay. As to the port the galley flew, Higher and higher rose to view The castle with its battled walls, The ancient monastery’s halls, A solemn, huge, and dark-red pile Placed on the margin of the isle. In Saxon strength that abbey frowned, With massive arches, broad and round. ”

“ For a false knight that brought me here, Even I the fair flower of Northumberland.” They took her up beside them then, (Follow, my love, come over the strand) And brought her to her father again, And she the fair flower of Northumberland. Now all you fair maids, be warned by me, (Follow, my love, come over the strand) Scots never were true, nor ever will be, To lord, nor lady, nor fair England. WHITTINGHAM FAIR. Are you going to Whittingham Fair (Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme) , Remember me to one that lives there, For once she was a true lover of mine. ”

“ Douglas!” they fell upon them, and a fierce hand-to-hand struggle began. The moon rose clear and bright, and the quiet evening air was filled with the din of battle, the ring of steel on steel, the crash of axe on armour, the groans of the wounded, and the battle-cries of the combatants on each side. Sir Ralph Percy, pressing too rashly forward, was captured by a newly-made Scottish knight, Sir John Maxwell. The battle was turning in favour of Hotspur, when Douglas sent his silken banner to the front and with renewed shouts of “Douglas!” the Scots pressed forward and overbore their foes. ”

“ 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. ”

“ Flowing now between well ordered gardens, green meadows, and ferny banks, brawling musically over shingly shallows, or crooning gently between fringing woods, the Tyne rolls onward to Corbridge, receiving on its way the Devil’s Water, a sparkling stream which flows through scenes of enchanting beauty, whether between rugged cliffs and heather clad hills as in its upper course, through the graceful overhanging trees and cool green recesses of Dipton woods or between rich meadows and green pasture-land where it loses itself in the bosom of the Tyne. ”

“ NEWCASTLE-UPON-TYNE. “Her dusky hair in many a tangle clings About her, and her looks, though stern and cold, Grow tender with the dreams of by-gone days.” —W.W. Tomlinson.
The outward signs of “by-gone days,” in the Newcastle of to-day, with the one notable exception of the Castle, must be diligently sought out amongst the overwhelming mass of what is often called “rampant modernity,” of which the town to-day chiefly consists. The modernity, however, is not all bad, as this favourite phrase would imply; much of it is doubtless regrettable and a very little of it perhaps inevitable ”

“ The archers, returning, saw the Scottish force on the hill, and began the attack forthwith, letting fly their arrows upon the foe with deadly precision. Flight after flight fell upon the Scots, who were completely bewildered, and seemed incapable of action. A Scottish knight, Sir John Swinton, implored the leaders to charge, passionately exclaiming, “What madness has seized you, my brave countrymen, that you stand here like deer to be shot down? Follow me, those who will! We will either gain the victory, or die like men of courage.” ”

“ Whether he was founding an industrial establishment, or building a house, or making a road, the hand of the man is quite unmistakable. There is the same solid basis, the same enduring superstructure. Every stone that is laid at Cragside or Bamburgh seems to be stamped as it were with the impression of his great personality, and the thoroughness of his work.” All his life long, the thoroughness with which he was able to concentrate his mind on the one subject which occupied it at the time, was a marked feature of Lord Armstrong’s character. ”

“ Sudden, as he spoke, From the sharp ridges of the hill, All downward to the banks of Till Was wreathed in sable smoke. Volumed, and vast, and rolling far, The cloud enveloped Scotland’s war As down the hill they broke; Nor martial shout, nor minstrel tone Announced their march; their tread alone, At times one warning trumpet blown, At times a stifled hum. Told England, from his mountain throne King James did rushing come. Scarce could they hear or see their foes Until at weapon-point they close. ”

“ The magnificent castle which dominates the town stands majestically at the top of a green slope above the Aln, its vast array of walls and towers far along the ridge, fronting the North as though still looking, albeit with a seemingly languid interest, for the coming of the Scots who were such inveterate foes of its successive lords. ”

“ North Shields clings haphazard to the steep bank of the Tyne, and spreads away up and beyond it, reaching out towards Wallsend on the river shore and Tynemouth along by the sea, the older parts by the river looking black and grimy to the last degree; but there is a silver lining to this very black cloud—not visible, it is true, but distinctly audible—in the great shipbuilding and repairing works known as Smith’s Dock, one of the largest concerns of the kind in Great Britain, where so many hundreds of men earn their daily bread ”

“ The quiet little market town lies pleasantly among green meadows almost at the foot of the Cheviots; its low substantial stone houses, with few gardens in front, give the place a somewhat monotonous appearance, but the newer streets try to make amends by blossoming out into brilliant flower-plots in summer-time. Still, one would not quarrel with the older buildings; solid and unpretentious, they must look much the same as in the days of Border turmoil, when the first requisite in house or town was strength, not beauty. ”

“ In fine weather the crowds which pass and repass along the top of the bold cliffs which overlook the fine stretch of sands between Cullercoats and Monkseaton show how many hundreds of Northumbria’s busy workers enjoy the fresh breezes from the sea on this pleasant and bracing coast. Out at sea, opposite the Parade, vessels built in the busy shipyards on the Tyne may be seen doing their speed trials over the measured mile. ”

“ In the duel Percy was unhorsed, and Douglas captured his pennon and his gauntlet gloves, embroidered with the Percy lion in pearls. This trophy Douglas vowed he would carry off to Scotland with him, and set it in the topmost tower of his castle of Dalkeith, that it might be seen from afar. “By heaven! that you never shall,” replied Percy; “you shall not carry it out of Northumberland.” “Come and take it, then,” was Douglas’ answer; and Hotspur would have attempted its recovery there and then, but he was restrained by his knights. ”

“ On the opposite side of the river from Wark is Chipchase Castle, one of the finest mansions in Northumberland, standing in the midst of the beautifully wooded and picturesque scenery which, from this point onwards is characteristic of the North Tyne. Of the former village of Chipchase scarcely a trace remains, though its name, if nothing else, shows that here has been a village or small town, important enough to have its well-known, market; for “Chip,” like the various “Chippings” throughout England is derived from the Anglo-Saxon ciepan—to buy and sell, to traffic. ”

“ Behind the castle lies the pretty old-fashioned village with its quaint hostelries and grove of trees; and from the higher parts of the new golf-links the player may look round on a view which would be difficult to match, comprising as it does, the Farne Islands and Dunstanborough to the south, and northward, Holy Island, with its castle and abbey and the bluish haze of smoke lying over Berwick; while, on the western skyline, on a clear day, may be seen the rounded caps of the Cheviots. ”

“ A little distance from the shore is another fishing village, North Sunderland, and northward from Seahouses is the inn called The Monkshouse, from the fact that it once belonged to the community on Lindisfarne.
Bamburgh Castle, magnificently placed on a lofty crag rising perpendicularly from the greensward on the west or landward side, and almost as steeply from the sea which washes the north and east sides, lies like a majestic lion on its mighty rock “brooding on ancient fame.” The voices of children at play on the sands below sound faint and far in the still air ”

“ But no one who has ever looked on these smoky reaches of the Tyne with a seeing eye, or steamed down the river on a day either of gloom or sunshine, can refuse to acknowledge that it has a certain grandeur, a stern beauty of its own, that can stir the heart and the imagination more deeply than any mere prettiness. ”

“ Tweed’s echoes heard the ceaseless plash While many a broken band, Disordered, through its currents dash To gain the Scottish land; To town and tower, to down and dale, To tell red Flodden’s dismal tale, And raise the universal wail.”
The tragic effects of that terrible day were long felt in Scotland. Every family of note in the land lost one or more of its members on the fatal field, besides the thousands of humbler beings who fell at the same time. Scotland did not recover from the crushing blow for more than a hundred years ”

“ A short distance from Amble, and practically encircled by the Coquet which here makes a wide sweep, we come upon Warkworth, prettiest of villages, combining the beauties of sea-shore and river scenery, and rich in the possession of that romantic castle, the ruins of which carry the mind back to Saxon times; for they stand on the site of an older fortress erected by Ceolwulf, a Saxon King of Northumbria. ”