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From John O'Groats to Land's End by Robert Naylor and John Naylor

R >> Robert Naylor and John Naylor >> From John O\'Groats to Land\'s End




[Illustration: THE DEVIL'S ARROWS.]

We soon reached the famous Boroughbridge, one of the most historical
places in all England, the borough meaning Aldborough, the ISUER of the
Brigantes and the ISURIUM of the Romans. Here we crossed the bridge
spanning the Yorkshire River Ouse, which almost adjoined Aldborough, and
were directed for lodgings to the house of a widowed lady quite near the
church. It was nearly dark then, the moon, though almost at the full
that night, not having yet risen. We decided to wait until after a
substantial meal before visiting the Devil's Arrows a short distance
away. There were only three of them left--two in a field on one side of
the road, and one in a field opposite. The stones were standing upright,
and were, owing to their immense size, easily found. We had inspected
the two, and were just jumping over the gate to cross the narrow lane to
see the other in the next field, when we startled a man who was
returning, not quite sober, from the fair at Boroughbridge. As we had
our sticks in our hands, he evidently thought we were robbers and meant
mischief, for he begged us not to molest him, saying he had only
threepence in his pocket, to which we were welcome. We were highly
amused, and the man was very pleased when he found he could keep the
coppers, "to pay," as he said, "for another pint." The stones, weighing
about 36 tons each, were 20 to 30 feet high, and as no one knew who
placed them there, their origin was ascribed to the Devil; hence their
name, "the Devil's Arrows." Possibly, as supposed in other similar
cases, he had shot them out of his bow from some great hill far away,
and they had stuck in the earth here. There was fairly authentic
evidence that twelve was the original number, and the bulk of opinion
favoured an origin concerned with the worship of the sun, one of the
earliest forms known. Others, however, ascribe them to the Romans, who
erected boundary stones, of which several are known, on the hills
farther south. We returned to our lodgings, but not to sleep, for our
sleeping apartment was within a few feet of the church clock, on the
side of a very low steeple. As we were obliged to keep our window open
for fresh air, we could hear every vibration of the pendulum, and the
sound of the ponderous bell kept us awake until after it struck the hour
of twelve. Then, worn out with fatigue, we heard nothing more until we
awoke early in the morning.

[Illustration: ALDBOROUGH CHURCH, BOROUGHBRIDGE.]

(_Distance walked twenty miles_.)


_Tuesday, October 24th._

The history of Aldborough, the old _burh_ or fortified Saxon settlement,
in spite of its Saxon name, could clearly be traced back to the time of
the Brigantes, the ancient Britons, who inhabited the territory between
the Tweed and the Humber. A Celtic city existed there long before
Romulus and Remus founded the city of Rome, and it was at this city of
ISUER, between the small River Tut and its larger neighbour the Yore,
that their queen resided. Her name, in Gaelic, was Cathair-ys-maen-ddu
("Queen of stones black"), rather a long name even for a queen, and
meaning in English the Queen of the City of the Black Stones, the
remaining three, out of the original twelve, being those, now known as
the Devil's Arrows, which we had seen the preceding night.

[Illustration: CAER CARADOC HILL, CHURCH STRETTON.]

The Romans, however, when they invaded Britain, called her Cartismunda,
her city ISURIUM, and the Brigantes' country they named Brigantia. But
as the Brigantes made a determined resistance, their invasion of this
part of England, begun in A.D. 47, was not completed until A.D. 70.

Queen Cartismunda was related to the King of Siluria, which then
embraced the counties of Hereford and Monmouth, besides part of South
Wales. He was one of the greatest of the British chieftains, named
Caradoc by the Britons and Caractacus by the Romans. He fought for the
independence of Britain, and held the armies of the most famous Roman
generals at bay for a period of about nine years. But eventually, in
A.D. 50, he was defeated by the Roman general Ostorius Scapula, in the
hilly region near Church Stretton, in Shropshire, not far from a hill
still known as Caer Caradoc, his wife and daughters being taken
prisoners in the cave known as Caradoc's Cave. He himself escaped to the
Isle of Mona, afterwards named Anglesey, with the object of rallying the
British tribes there.

It so happened that some connection existed between Queen Cartismunda
and the Romans who had defeated Caradoc, and after that event Ostorius
Scapula turned his army towards the north, where he soon reached the
border of Brigantia.

As soon as the queen, of whose morals even the Britons held no high
opinion, heard of his arrival, she and her daughters hastened to meet
the conqueror to make terms. If beauty had any influence in the
settlement, she seems to have had everything in her favour, as, if we
are to believe the description of one of the Romans, who began his
letter with the words "Brigantes faemina dulce," the Brigantes ladies
must have been very sweet and beautiful.

A most objectional part of the bargain was that Caractacus should be
delivered up to the Roman general. So the queen sent some relatives to
Mona to invite him to come and see her at Isuer, and, dreaming nothing
of treachery, he came; but as soon as he crossed the border into the
queen's country he was seized, bound and handed over to Ostorius, who
sent him to Rome, together with his already captured wife and daughters.

On arrival at Rome Caractacus was imprisoned with some of his countrymen
and in course of time brought before the Emperor Claudius. The brave and
fearless speech he made before the Emperor on that occasion is one of
the most famous recorded in history, and has been immortalised both in
prose and poetry.

"Now I have spoken, do thy will;
Be life or death my lot.
Since Britain's throne no more I fill,
To me it matters not.
My fame is clear; but on my fate
Thy glory or thy shame must wait."

He ceased: from all around upsprung
A murmur of applause;
For well had truth and freedom's tongue
Maintained their holy cause.
The conqueror was the captive then--
He bade the slave be free again.

Tradition states that one of his companions in the prison in Rome was
St. Paul, who converted him to the Christian faith, with two of his
fellow-countrymen, Linus and Claudia, who are mentioned in St. Paul's
second Epistle to Timothy (iv. 21).

Descendants of Caradoc are still to be traced in England in the family
of Craddock, whose shield to this day is emblazoned with the words:
"Betrayed! Not conquered."

We awoke quite early in the morning--a fact which we attributed to the
church clock, although we could not remember hearing it strike. My
brother started the theory that we might have been wakened by some
supernatural being coming through the open window, from the greensward
beneath, where "lay the bones of the dead." Aldborough church was
dedicated to St. Andrew, and the register dated from the year
1538--practically from the time when registers came into being. It
contained a curious record of a little girl, a veritable "Nobody's
child," who, as a foundling, was brought to the church and baptized in
1573 as "Elizabeth Nobody, of Nobody."

[Illustration: KNARESBOROUGH CASTLE.]

Oliver Cromwell, about whom we were to hear so much in our further
travels, was here described in the church book as "an impious
Arch-Rebel," but this we afterwards found was open to doubt. He fought
one of his great battles quite near Aldborough, and afterwards besieged
Knaresborough Castle, about eight miles away. He lodged at an
old-fashioned house in that town. In those days fireplaces in bedrooms
were not very common, and even where they existed were seldom used, as
the beds were warmed with flat-bottomed circular pans of copper or
brass, called "warming-pans," in which were placed red-hot cinders of
peat, wood, or coal. A long, round wooden handle, like a broomstick, was
attached to the pan, by means of which it was passed repeatedly up and
down the bed, under the bedclothes, until they became quite warm, both
above and below. As this service was performed just before the people
retired to rest, they found a warm bed waiting for them instead of a
cold one. But of course this was in the "good old times." Afterwards,
when people became more civilised (!), they got into bed between linen
sheets that were icy cold, and after warming them with the heat of their
bodies, if they chanced to move an inch or two during the night they
were either awakened, or dreamed about icebergs or of being lost in the
snow!

The young daughter of the house where Oliver Cromwell lodged at
Knaresborough had the task of warming Oliver's bed for him, and in after
years when she had grown up she wrote a letter in which she said: "When
Cromwell came to lodge at our house I was then but a young girl, and
having heard so much talk about the man, I looked at him with wonder.
Being ordered to take a pan of coals and 'aire' his bed, I could not
forbear peeping over my shoulders to see this extraordinary man, who was
seated at the far side of the room untying his garters. Having aired the
bed I went out, and shutting the door after me, I peeped through the
keyhole, when I saw him rise from his seat, advance to the bed, and fall
on his knees, in which attitude I left him for some time. When returning
I found him still at prayer---and this was his custom every night as
long as he stayed at our house--I concluded he must be a good man, and
this opinion I always maintained, though I heard him blamed and
exceedingly abused."

Aldborough was walled round in the time of the Romans, and portions of
the walls were still to be seen. So many Roman relics had been found
here that Aldborough had earned the title of the Yorkshire Pompeii. So
interested were we in its antiquities that we felt very thankful to the
clerical dignitary at Ripon for having advised us to be sure to visit
this ancient borough.

[Illustration: TESSELLATED ROMAN PAVEMENT UNEARTHED AT ALDBOROUGH.]

We now wended our way to one of the village inns, where we had been told
to ask permission from the landlord to see the Roman tessellated
pavement in his back garden. We were conducted to a building, which had
been roofed over to cover it. Our attendant unlocked the door, and after
the sawdust which covered the floor had been carefully brushed aside,
there was revealed to our gaze a beautifully executed floor, in which
the colours of the small tiles were as bright as if they had been
recently put there. We could scarcely realise that the work we were
looking at was well-nigh two thousand years old: it looked more like the
work of yesterday. It had been accidentally discovered by a man who was
digging in the garden, at about two feet below the surface of the soil;
it was supposed to have formed the floor of a dwelling belonging to some
highly placed Roman officer. We were speculating about the depth of soil
and the difference in levels between the Roman Period and the present,
but we found afterwards that the preservation of this beautiful work,
and of others, was due not to any natural accumulations during the
intervening centuries, but to the fact that the devastating Danes had
burnt the town of Aldborough, along with many others, in the year 870,
and the increased depth of the soil was due to the decomposition of the
burnt ruins and debris. When we noted any event or object dating from
1771, we described it as "one hundred years before our visit," but here
we had an event to record that had happened one thousand years before.
Neither the attendant nor the landlord would accept any remuneration for
their services, and to our cordial thanks replied, "You are quite
welcome." We now went to see the cottage museum, which was well filled
with Roman relics of all kinds, arranged in such fashion as would have
done credit to a very much larger collection. The Roman remains stored
here were described as "one of the most comprehensive collections of
Roman relics in England," and included ornaments and articles in glass,
iron, and bronze. There was also much pottery and tiles; also coins,
images, and all kinds of useful and ornamental articles of the time of
the Roman Occupation in Britain. Besides self-coloured tiles, there were
some that were ornamented, one representing the "Capitoli Wolf," a
strange-looking, long-legged animal, with its face inclined towards the
spectator, while between its fore and hind legs could be seen in the
distance the figures of Romulus and Remus, the founders of the city of
Rome, who, tradition states, were suckled in their infancy by a wolf.

But my brother reminded me that none of these things were fit to eat,
and that our breakfast would now be ready, so away we sped to our
lodgings to get our breakfast and to pay our bill, and bid good-bye to
our landlady, who was a worthy, willing old soul. Just across the river,
about a mile away, was the site of the "White Battle," fought on October
12th, 1319--one of the strangest and most unequal battles ever fought.
It occurred after the English had been defeated at Bannockburn, and when
the Scots were devastating the North of England. The Scots had burnt and
plundered Boroughbridge in 1318 under Sir James Douglas, commonly known,
on account perhaps of his cruelty, as the "Black Douglas." Even the
children were afraid when his name was mentioned, for when they were
naughty they were frightened with the threat that if they were not good
the Black Douglas would be coming; even the very small children were
familiar with his name, for a nursery song or lullaby of that period
was--

Hush ye, hush ye, little pet ye,
Hush ye, hush ye, do not fret ye,
The Black Douglas shall not get ye.

Just before the "White Battle" the English Queen Isabel, wife of Edward
II, had taken up her abode with a small retinue in the country near
York, when an effort was made by the Scots to capture her; they nearly
succeeded, for she only just managed to get inside the walls of York
when the Scots appeared and demanded admittance. This was refused by the
aged Archbishop Melton, who had the bulwarks manned and the
fortifications repaired and defended. The Scots were enraged, as York
was strongly fortified, and they shouted all manner of epithets to the
people behind the walls; one of them actually rode up to the Micklegate
Bar and accused the queen of all manner of immoralities, challenging any
man to come forth and clear her fame. The Archbishop in a stirring
appeal called upon every man and youth to attack the invaders. His
eloquence was irresistible, and although there were not more than fifty
trained soldiers in the city, they attacked the Scots, who retreated.
The Archbishop's army was utterly unskilled in the arts of war, and
carried all kinds of weapons, many of them obsolete. The Bishop of Ely,
Lord High Chancellor of England, rode alongside the Archbishop, and
behind them rode the Lord Mayor, followed by a multitude of clergy in
white surplices, with monks, canons, friars, and other ecclesiastics,
all fully dressed in the uniform of their offices. But only one result
was possible, for they were opposed to 16,000 of Robert Bruce's
best-trained soldiers. Meantime the Scots did not know the character of
the foe before whom they were retreating, but, crossing the River Swale
near the point where it meets the Yore, they set fire to a number of
haystacks, with the result that the smoke blew into the faces of the
Archbishop and his followers, as the wind was blowing in their
direction. They, however, pressed bravely forward, but the Scots
attacked them both in front and rear, and in less than an hour four
thousand men and youths, their white robes stained with blood, were
lying dead on the field of battle, while many were drowned in the river.
The sight of so many surpliced clergy struck terror into the heart of
the Earl of Murray and his men, who, instead of pursuing farther the
retreating army, amongst whom were the aged Archbishop and his
prelates--the Lord Mayor had been killed--retired northwards.

Through the long hours of that night women, children, and sweethearts
gazed anxiously from the walls of York, watching and waiting for those
who would never return, and for many a long year seats were vacant in
the sacred buildings of York. Thus ended the "Battle of the White," so
named from the great number of surpliced clergy who took part therein.
The old Archbishop escaped death, and one of the aged monks wrote that--

The triumphal standard of the Archbishop also was saved by the
cross-bearer, who, mounted on a swift horse, plunged across the
river, and leaving his horse, hid the standard in a dense thicket,
and escaped in the twilight. The pike was of silver, and on the top
was fixed the gilded image of our Lord Jesus Christ. Near where it
was hidden a poor man was also hiding, and he twisted some bands of
hay round it, and kept it in his cottage, and then returned it to the
Bishop.

About this time England was like a house divided against itself, for the
barons had revolted against King Edward II. A battle was again fought at
Boroughbridge on June 22nd, 1322, between the rebel army led by the
Earls of Lancaster and Hereford, and the King's forces who were pursuing
them. They were obliged to retreat over the bridge, which at that time
was built of wood; but when they reached it, they found another part of
the King's army of whose presence they were unaware, so they had to
fight for the possession of the bridge. During the fight a Welshman,
armed with a long spear, and who was hidden somewhere beneath the
bridge, contrived to thrust his spear through an opening in the timbers
right into the bowels of Humphrey de Bohun, the Earl of Hereford, who
fell forward mortally wounded. Thus died one of the most renowned
warriors in England. The Earl of Lancaster made a final effort to cross
the bridge, but his troops gave way and fled, the Earl taking refuge in
the old chapel of Boroughbridge, from which he was dragged, stripped of
his armour, and taken to York. Thence he was conveyed to his own castle
at Pontefract, and lowered into a deep dungeon, into which, we were
told, when we visited that castle later, he had himself lowered others,
and soon afterwards he was condemned to death by the revengeful Edward,
who had not forgotten the Earl's share in the death of his favourite,
Piers Gaveston. Mounted on a miserable-looking horse, amidst the gibes
and insults of the populace, he was led to the block, and thus died
another of England's famous warriors.


[Illustration: OLIVER CROMWELL, THE GREAT PARLIAMENTARIAN.]

Needless to relate, we had decided to visit York Minster as our next
great object of interest after Fountains Abbey, and by accident rather
than design we had in our journey to and from York to pass over two
battle-fields of first importance as decisive factors in the history of
England--viz., Marston Moor and Towton Field. Marston Moor lay along our
direct road from Aldborough to York, a distance of about sixteen miles.
Here the first decisive battle was fought between the forces of King
Charles I and those of the Parliament. His victory at Marston Moor gave
Cromwell great prestige and his party an improved status in all future
operations in the Civil War. Nearly all the other battles whose sites we
had visited had been fought for reasons such as the crushing of a
rebellion of ambitious and discontented nobles, or perhaps to repel a
provoked invasion, and often for a mere change of rulers. Men had fought
and shed their blood for persons from whom they could receive no
benefit, and for objects in which they had no interest, and the country
had been convulsed and torn to pieces for the gratification of the
privileged few. But in the Battle of Marston Moor a great principle was
involved which depended en the issue. It was here that King and People
contended--the one for unlimited and absolute power, and the other for
justice and liberty. The iron grasp and liberty-crushing rule of the
Tudors was succeeded by the disgraceful and degrading reign of the
Stuarts. The Divine Right of Kings was preached everywhere, while in
Charles I's corrupt and servile Court the worst crimes on earth were
practised. Charles had inherited from his father his presumptuous
notions of prerogative and Divine Right, and was bent upon being an
absolute and uncontrolled sovereign. He had married Henrietta, the
daughter of the King of France, who, though possessed of great wit and
beauty, was of a haughty spirit, and influenced Charles to favour the
Roman Catholic Church as against the Puritans, then very numerous in
Britain, who "through the Bishop's courts were fined, whipt, pilloried,
and imprisoned, so that death was almost better than life."

[Illustration: JOHN HAMPDEN.]

A crisis had to come, and either one man must yield or a whole nation
must submit to slavery. The tax named "Ship Money," originally levied in
the eleventh century to provide ships for the Navy, was reintroduced by
Charles in 1634 in a very burdensome form, and the crisis came which
resulted in the Civil War, when Hampden, who resided in the
neighbourhood of the Chiltern Hills, one of the five members of
Parliament impeached by Charles, refused to pay the tax on the ground
that it was illegal, not having been sanctioned by Parliament. He lost
his case, but the nation was aroused and determined to vindicate its
power. Hampden was killed in a small preliminary engagement in the early
stages of the war. The King was supported by the bulk of the nobility,
proud of their ancient lineage and equipments of martial pomp, and by
their tenants and friends; while the strength of the Parliamentary Army
lay in the town population and the middle classes and independent
yeomanry: prerogative and despotic power on the one hand, and liberty
and privilege on the other. The Royal Standard was raised at Nottingham
and the din of arms rang through the kingdom. The fortress of Hull had
been twice besieged and bravely defended, and the drawn Battle of
Edgehill had been fought. In the early part of 1644 both parties began
the war in earnest. A Scottish army had been raised, but its advance had
been hindered by the Marquis of Newcastle, the King's commander in the
north. In order to direct the attention of Newcastle elsewhere, Lord
Fernando Fairfax and Sir Thomas his son, who had been commissioned by
Parliament to raise forces, attacked Bellasis, the King's Yorkshire
Commander, and Governor of York, who was at Selby with 2,000 men, and
defeated them with great loss, capturing Bellasis himself, many of his
men, and all his ordnance. Newcastle, dismayed by the news, hastened to
York and entered the city, leaving the Scots free to join Fairfax at
Netherby, their united forces numbering 16,000 foot and 4,000 horse.
These partially blockaded York, but Newcastle had a strong force and was
an experienced commander, and with a bridge across the River Ouse, and a
strong body of horse, he could operate on both sides of the stream; so
Crawford, Lindsey, and Fairfax sent messengers to the Earl of
Manchester, who was in Lincolnshire, inviting him to join them. He
brought with him 6,000 foot and 3,000 horse, of the last of which Oliver
Cromwell was lieutenant-general. Even then they could not invest the
city completely; but Newcastle was beginning to lose men and horses, and
a scarcity of provisions prevailed, so he wrote to the King that he must
surrender unless the city could be relieved. Charles then wrote to
Prince Rupert, and said that to lose York would be equivalent to losing
his crown, and ordered him to go to the relief of York forthwith.

[Illustration: PRINCE RUPERT.]

Rupert, the son of Frederick V, Elector of Bavaria, and a nephew of
Charles I, was one of the most dashing cavalry officers in Europe. He
lost no time in carrying out his commission, and in a few days Newcastle
received a letter saying that he was stabling his horses that same night
at Knaresborough, and that he would be at York the following day,
Rupert's own horse being stabled that same night in the church at
Boroughbridge. The news was received with great rejoicings by the
besieged garrison and the people in York, but spread dismay amongst the
besiegers, who thought York was about to capitulate. To stay in their
present position was to court disaster, so they raised the siege and
encamped on Hessey Moor, about six miles away, in a position which
commanded the road along which Rupert was expected to travel. But by
exercise of great military skill he crossed the river at an unexpected
point and entered York on the opposite side. The Prince, as may be
imagined, was received with great rejoicings; bells were rung, bonfires
lighted, and guns fired, and the citizens went wild with triumphant
excitement. Difficulties arose, however, between Newcastle, who was a
thoughtful and experienced commander, and Rupert, who, having relieved
the city, wanted to fight the enemy at once. As he scornfully refused
advice, Newcastle retired, and went with the army as a volunteer only,
Meantime there were dissensions among the Parliamentary generals, who
were divided in their opinions--the English wishing to fight, and the
Scots wishing to retreat. They were all on their way to Tadcaster, in
search of a stronger position, when suddenly the vanguard of Rupert
reached the rearguard of the other army at the village of Long Marston.
This division of the retreating army included their best soldiers, and
was commanded by Leslie and two other brave men, Sir Thomas Fairfax and
Oliver Cromwell. Their rearguard halted, and, seeing the plain covered
with pursuers, they sent word to the generals who had gone on in front,
asking them to return and take possession of the dry land of the Moor,
which was higher than that occupied by the Royalist army. Oliver
Cromwell had already risen in the opinion of the army by his conduct in
Lincolnshire, and he was dreaded by the Royalists, for he had already
shown his ability to command. Stalwart and clumsy in frame, he had an
iron constitution, and was a bold and good rider and a perfect master of
the broadsword then in use. He had also a deep knowledge of human
nature, and selected his troopers almost entirely from the sons of
respectable farmers and yeomen, filled with physical daring and
religious convictions, while his own religious enthusiasm, and his
superiority in all military virtues, gave him unbounded power as a
leader:

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Various - "The Great Round World and What Is Going On In It, Vol. 1, No. 39, August 5, 1897"

Mary Raymond Shipman Andrews - "The Militants"

Granville Barker - "Waste"

L. T. Meade - "The Honorable Miss"