The Tyne and its tributaries. Described and illustrated

Front matter

THK TYNE AND ITS TKIBUTAWES. A TRIBUTARY WATERFALL. THE TYNE -\N 1) ITS TRIBUTARI ES I) /•: S CRl li E I) . I ND IL L U S T li A TED i;v W. J. PALMER. LONDON: GEORGE BELL AND SONS, YORK STREET, COVENT GARDEN, 1882. CHISWICK PRESS : — C. WHITTINGHAM AND CO. IOOKS COURT, CHANCERY LANE. [NTRODUCTORY. THE basin of a noblo rivor as soon from somo elevated point would be a grand spectacle, especially were it possible to take in at a glance the fountain-head, the intricate ramification of tributaries, the broad main-stream, and final absorption by the ocean. In such a view the tree-like character of tho river would be conspicuous. But in the nomenclature of a river and its tributaries the unity of this figure is necessarily broken. " The Tyne " stands only for the trunk of tho river tree, tho two main streams which unite to form it, and all the other branches have their own names ; and thus nominally the water of Tyne is divided into many waters, — the rivers North and South Tyne, the Allen, Reed, Nent, Der went, and Team, besides lesser streams, burns, and sykes, whoso name is legion, though but parts of an indivisible whole.

Its bubbling spring is as truly Tyne as its broadest reaches below bridge. " Tho child is father of the man." Instead of regarding it as formed by the junction of the Rivers North and South Tyne, The Tyne might bo described as rising near Cross-fell in Cumberland, and receiving the North Tyno as an affluent. In Cross-fell the great Penine range culminates ; tho high lands from which it rises on the east side boast in Alston tho highest market-town,' in Coalcleugh the highest village, and in Ashgillside the highest inhabited house in England. It is in this elevated district that wo find near each other the sources of the three great industrial rivers of tho North- -the Tees, the Wear, and the Tyne. The Tyne flows northwards us far as Lambley, whore it INTRODUCTORY. takes to the depression caused by the great fault in the coal-field known as the Ninety-fathom Dyke ; after which it flows in an easterly direction, until it reaches the sea ; it serves with its tributary the Derwent, as the boundary between Northumberland and Durham.

The Tees divides Durham and Yorkshire, whilst the Wear takes a middle course through the county of Durham. The three neighbouring rivers have much in common — the same industries thrive on their banks; if one of them is flooded, with something resembling human sympathy' the others are flooded also ; and from the same birthplace they flow all to the eastern sea. Our smaller map shows by a dotted line the water parting of the north of England, where the rivers and burns divide as they flow to the eastern or western seas ; the dividing line is perhaps narrowest where the Tipalt a tributary of the Tyne, and the Irthing a tributary of the Eden, approach each other; but, doubtless, in this land of " many waters," the smaller streams, in the accident of flood, get mixed in playing round the base of the hills, and change their direction for a time towards the sea opposite to that which usually receives them.

Chapter I. North Tyne Head

SIR T. DICK LAUDER'S ** Rivers of Scotland," which contains a chapter on " The Tyne/' was, by a well-meaning friend, suggested to the writer when he began to arrange notes to accompany his sketches. Lauder' s Tyne, however, is that which enters the sea near Tantallan Castle, on the coast of Haddingtonshire. The misleading refe §L rence raises a smile when we imagine the resentment of an old-fashioned English Borderer on hearing " Canny Tyne " classed amongst Scotch rivers. Nevertheless, our English Tyne has, so to speak, Scotch water in its veins, as its most northerly springs are in Roxburghshire, over tho Border. Over the Border! there is still an exhilarating ring in tho words. Tho last remains of the last of the castles and forts which marked the boundary line are crumbling away, and nearly three centuries of Union have elapsed, yet our interest in the Northern Marches remains unabated.

Before starting in quest of the source of North Tyne, ono glance at the map will suffice to show the Tweed, the Cheviots, and tho Liddel as chiefly forming the boundary. And ono lino of history will serve to remind, that the Tweed first became the boundary between NORTH TYNE HEAD. Northumberland and Scotland after the battle of Carham, in 1018, when the English sustained a defeat; and that Cumberland was not finally annexed to England, and the present boundary fixed, until 1237, after a defeat of the Scotch. The most westerly spur of the Cheviot range is Peel Fell, " at the foot of which," says Hodgson, " North Tyne has its source, and runs in a most sluggish manner along a level plain, from which circumstance it is called the Deadwater, until it joins Bell Burn." The natives, however, contest the statement, and the Ordnance Survey bears them out, in placing the source a little farther north than the Deadwater, which they thus make its first tributary.

Well-informed inhabitants of the district point out a spot as that of the true rise, within the enclosure of the North British Railway Company between the stations of Saughtree in Scotland, and Kielder in England. It is about two miles north of the latter, near some old stone-cutting sheds connected with a quarry seen on the Fell side, and some yards beyond a sulphur well which here marks the Border, and from which, it being in Scotland, one may help one's self to a draught without leaving England ; so say the "Dalesmen" here. In passing, Chalmers' observation on this spring may be quoted, that " it is much frequented by persons suffering from scrofulous complaints, and only wants proper accommodation to make it a place of greater resort." Old inhabitants speak to having seen many years since round the spot, a cluster of wooden houses for bathing, &c, but these have disappeared long since.

Leaving the well behind, the explorer may be sure of his mark when he sees two streams close together — one flowing northwards, which is called the Liddel, the other being the Tyne. Here, then, the same marsh gives birth to two border rivers, brother streams cradled together, but divided henceforth, as were the men of their respective dales for so many centuries ; Liddesdale men against Tynedale men, in many a bloody fray — rivalry, which happily is now only represented in the occasional and harmless contests of athletic sports. The rise of North Tyne can scarcely be called romantic in its immediate surroundings, unless the railway itself may be said to acquire poetry, from the fact that it follows the route formerly taken by the Liddesdale men in their raids upon the Fenwicks of Tyne. For some little distance the river is insignificant in size.

A silver thread in a NORTH TYKE HEAD. channel of peat as black as night, one might describe it, whilst another would see only a boggy ditch. But sluggish as the Border Tyne is in its early flow, it does credit to the wild features of its birthplace, receiving soon after its start the tribute of burns superior in size and volume ; these come racing down from the Fells on either side of the valley to join the river, after a career by hill and dale, and craggy preci pice, with endless tumblings among mossy stones and boulders. Each of these tributaries is worth a lingering visit, and many of them are made interesting by history and tradition. The scenery of North Tyne, its far stretching moors, with drooping skies, drear morass, solitary trees, and lonely houses, has still so much of the primitive, as to make it easy to recall the days of Border story.

But beyond every other feature in the landscape, the rivers and burns seem resonant with the romance of the hills that give them birth, and incline one to the bard's invitation, .. * * * * let us match This water's pleasant tune With some old Border song." — Wordsworth. They seem to move to the wild measure of the old minstrels' airs, and with the very rhythm of the ballads themselves, as bounding from moor land spring they come with gallop and swirl till some big rocks give sudden check, when follows the strife of waters, and all its mingled sounds, with eddyings and murmurings, until by-and-bye there is subsi dence into the death-like stillness of deep pools, ere they finally lose themselves in the river. After seeing a few of those burns, the visitor will not be surprised at the affectionate interest with which the people regard their native streams, cherishing still in their memories the history or legends attached to them.

Near the source of North Tyne some remains may still be seen of the Cat-rail, an ancient work composed of a ditch with a rampart on either side, extending from Galashiels to Peel Fell. There seems some uncer tainty as to its having been raised by Britons, Picts, or Saxons ; but as Professor Veitch says,1 " It is more likely to have been raised by the 1 " Poetry of tho Scotch Border," p. 98. Britons dwelling in the plain against the Picts, dwellers on the hills, than vice versa." Dawstane Rigg, on the line of the Cat-rail, and near Peel Fell, was the scene of an important battle, where Aidan, King of Scots, was, with the Britons of Strathclyde, defeated by the Saxons. Peel Fell belongs to the seldom-visited Cheviot range, the general knowledge of which does not extend much beyond that obtained at school, with per haps a faint remembrance of its outline as hazily seen in the far distance of some favourite view in the northern counties, but no nearer view than that which the Danish sailors had, to whom, as Gray's " Chirographia " informs us, the Cheviots afforded the first sight of land when they visited our shores.

From the summit of Peel Fell an extensive prospect in cludes the line of the Roman Wall to its end at Bowness, and part of it in its eastern direction over Wall Fell ; it shows, too, the course of our river, with Cross Fell in the distance, whence South Tyne comes to meet and join the stream whose small beginnings we have seen at Peel Fell's base. Peel Fell is the highest hill on North Tyne, being 1 975 feet above the sea, and is said to be more craggy than most of the Cheviot range, but affords good pasturage, especially suited to the Cheviot breed of sheep peculiar to the district. This sketch would be incomplete without some reference to these prominent natives, which are to be seen dotted over the hills, giving life and brightness to the sombre moorland. The Cheviot breed is the principal one pastured on the farms of Upper North Tynedale.

This distinct race of sheep dates from time imme morial. They are without horns, their faces and legs are white ; their wool is short, and, though not of the finest, is used for some kinds of cloth ; they are of quiet habits, and, it is said, " possess all the inde pendence of the mountain race, without the indocility which distinguishes some other races." They feed more on the grass, less on the shoots of heath, than the black-faced breed, and hence they are adapted to the country of North Tyne, where there is a large range of varied pasturage. There is much to interest in the Cheviot sheep : they are not so soon scared as others, even the young ones will calmly contemplate a stranger on the moors and let him come quite close to them without moving ; they have a sharp look that seems common to all ranks of creatures in these regions.

A noticeable habit of tho sheep in this dale, is that of moving upwards to the Fell tops towards sunset, where they remain for tho night. Is it tho sun's rays that they covet, and so move upwards to secure the last and the earliest ? Or is the heather couch of tho summit a luxury wanting in the valley, which has, however, sweeter grass ? Or does instinct warn them that hill tops are safest in storms and freest from damp ? This habit of the sheep may be common to all districts, but we have not noticed it elsewhere, and think it peculiar to this. The precarious life of sheep during the period of Border raids, suggests the possibility that the present race may have inherited the practice from their ancestors, who may have been regularly driven up the hills at night for protection ; and it will be remembered that we are now in one of those vales over which the eye of the Scotch riever ranged with keen desire, as the following snatch from an old song tella us : — " There's walth o' kye i' bonny Braidlees There's walth o' youses i' Tine ; There's walth o' gear i' Gowanburn, And they shall a' be thine."

Any one visiting this district will be sure to hear of the terrible winter storms to which it is subject, and will make some acquaintance with the shepherds, and gain some knowledge of their hard lives. " Storms," says the Ettrick Shepherd, " constitute the various eras of tho pastoral life ; they are the red lines in the shepherd's manual ; the reminders of years and ages past ; the tablets of memory, by which the ages of his children, the times of his ancestors, and the rise and downfall of his families are invariably ascertained." An extreme instance of the storms which visit these districts, given by the same author, is known as the thirteen drifty days, in 1620, when on the Eskdale Moor out of upwards of 20,000 aheep, only about forty young wedders were left, and five old ewes ; and the farm of Phaup was without stock or tenant for twenty years.

It was after a similar storm, as an old story gives it, that John Scott, a Border farmer, known as " Gouffin Jock," exclaimed " Ochon ! Ochon ! and is that the gate o't ? a black beginning makes a black end." Then, taking down a rusty sword, he addressed it thus : " Come thou C awa, my auld frien, thou and I mun e'en stock Bourhope-law ance mair." The Border clans, however, needed no such visitation to induce a raid on a neighbour's flocks. A North Tyne tradition tells how the Robsons —of whom we shall find more in the next chapter— once made a foray into Liddesdale, to harry the Grahams, and drove off a flock of their sheep down into North Tyne. Unfortunately, the sheep proved to be scabbed, and communicated the disease to the other sheep of the Robsons. Upon this, the latter made a second raid into Liddesdale, and took seven of the most substantial of the Grahams they could lay hands upon, and hanged them forthwith, with the warning, that the " neist tyme gentle men cam to tak their schepe, they war no to be scabbit."

Good types of the shepherd are met with here; simple, earnest, serious, and strong, as is consistent with the nature of their employment, which brings them face to face with the sublime in nature. Hereditary shepherds, for the most part, they have in their families strange traditions of harder times in contrast with the more peaceful era in which they themselves live. Hutchinson's unfavourable remarks about the shepherds of the district have been objected to, but as when he wrote (1776) the Border was still in an unsettled state — the moss-troopers and cattle-lifters having scarcely disappeared from the scene — and since, as John Grey, of Dilston, once said, it was not until after the accession of George III., in 1760, that the king's writ could be said to run through this part of the country, it is not surprising if Hutchinson did not find the hereditary shepherds of these wilds such as we find them a century later.

When Macaulay's History appeared, much indignation was raised in North Tynedale by his description of the natives, so coloured, as it evidently is, by his imagination. On this subject we give the following remarks by Dr. Charlton : — ** Macaulay's reference for the truth of his assertion is to the journal of Sir Walter Scott's visit to Alnwick in 1827, when he was received by the then Duke of Northumberland, in which is the reference to a conver sation with His Grace. ' He tells me his people in Kielder were all quite wild the first time his father went up to shoot there. The women had no other dress than a bed-gown and petticoat. The men were savage, and could hardly be brought to rise from the heath, either through sullenness or fear. They sang a wild tune, the burden of which was " orcina, orcina, orcina."

Tho females sang, the men danced round, and at a certain part of the tuno they drew their dirks, which they always wore.' It is well known Sir Walter Scott loved to improve any story which gave an air of additional romance to his wild Border descriptions. The old gipsy king of Yetholm declared ho did not recognize hia own stories when they came back to him from Abbotsford, and we strongly suspect the late worthy owner of Kielder would not have dis covered his own plain tale of his particular first visit to that place, under the cloak of romance thrown over it by the great novelist. " Sir J. Swinburne writes, in 1856 : — ' I have been landed proprietor at the head of North Tyne for seventy years and more ; my acquaintance commenced some twelve years before. I remember old people who in habited that country before the rising under Lord Derwentwater (1715) ; but I never witnessed myself, nor ever heard a word from any person, of such customs as Macaulay alludes to.

The Borders were as quiet in my earliest youth as they are at the present day." North Tyne shepherds, if they be " silly shepherds " in the Miltonic sense, are not generally so in any other ; they maintain a shrewd reticence as to their masters' affairs. A recent fact was communicated about one of them at Hareshaw Head who had been rather persistently questioned by a visitor in the shooting season about the number of sheep that there were on his master's farm. " How many scores?" persisted the sportsman. " Well, sir," was the reply, " there be more half scores than scores." It is said that no one knows but the shepherd how many sheep are owned by his master. Kielder Caatle is not one of the ancient Border strongholds, but simply a castellated shooting-box belonging to the Dukes of Northumber land, by one of whom it was built about a century ago.

The moors aurrounding it abound with grouse, both black and grey, and for the angler there ia good sport in the Kielder Burn. On alighting at Kielder Station a glimpse ia caught of the tower above aome trees, and no other guide ia needed. Leaving the wilda, a little vale is entered, delicioua with the scent of the pines and meadow-sweet, vocal with the plash of the stony-bedded river, and presently passing on without encountering any disappointing prohibition, one is made aware of the house, which stands on a green knoll near the confluence of two streams, Kielder Burn mingling its larger stream with that of the Tyne, which ia still small, three miles from its source. The change of scene is very noticeable here, and the contrast complete, as many trees of various kinds surround the castle, which is sheltered, and suggestive of comfort, shut off from the wilderness of moor and bog, its foreground made bright by the sunny haugh and the sparkling burn.

Some birds common to semi-Alpine KIELDER CASTLE. districts are found by the North Tyne, and the late Dr. Charlton noted many habitats of species becoming every year rarer in England. The eagle at long intervals has been observed at different points as far as twenty miles down the river. The osprey has been seen in late years fishing in the upper part of the river, but there seems no instance known of the osprey building in the district, though many specimens of the bird have been shot. The same authority mentions the peregrine, which will soon, however, be extinct, owing to the unceasing war waged against it by keepers. The kestrel is more fortunate, owing to its preying chiefly NOKTII TYNE HEAD. 13 on mice. Both the long and short-eared owl breed hero. Many sea-birds are frequently found on the moors; and the lesser black-backed gull, which broods on a muddy Hat at Haly-pikes, with the familiar lapwing, make the valleys resonant with melancholy notes, which harmonize per fectly with the landscape, when the sky is low and tho sun is down.

The pretty water-ouzel has its habitat in many places on North Tyne. On speaking of the bird in the neighbourhood it was found to be better known as the " water craw-," by which name it was known to a native ornithologist of the county, who described it in 1544. A tradition of this district gave Leyden subject for his ballad of " The Cout of Kielder," in the " Border Minstrelsy." The epithet " Cout " or " Colt," according to Leyden, had reference to his strength, stature, and activity. The scene of the encounter described in the ballad was the banks of the Hermitage ; the time, the reign of King Bruce ; the chief personages, the Cout of Kielder and his foe, Lord Soulis of Liddes dale. Tradition represents the latter as combining prodigious strength with cruelty, avarice, and treachery. In tho poem, young Kielder, being near the castle of his adversary on a hunting excursion, was decoyed with his train into the festive hall to partake of refreshment.

The treache rous Lord Soulis in time unmasks himself, and in the fray which follows, Kielder, who wears charmed armour, takes no hurt, but stumbling in his retreat across the river, his enemies held him down below the water, and the charm not being waterproof he perished. The scene of his death is still pointed out as "The Cout of Kielder's pool." The Ettrick Shepherd lays the scene of his pathetic poem, " Sir David Graeme," on North Tyne, some verses of which we quote. The lady awaits in vain the coming of Sir David to take her from her father's tower. '■ The dow flew east, the dow flew west, The dow flew far ayont the fell ; An' sair at e'en she seemed distrest, But what perplex'd her could not tell. " But aye she coo'd, wi' mournfn' croon, An ruffled a' her feathers fair ; An lookit sad as she war boun' To leave the land for evermair.

"The lady wept, an' some did blame, — She didna blame the bonnie dow, But sair she blamed Sir David Graeme, Because the knight had broke his vow. " For he had sworn by the starus sae bright An by their bed on the dewy green, To meet her there on St. Lambert's night, Whatever dangers lay between. * * * * " The day arrived, the evening came, The lady looked wi' wistful ee ; But 0, alas ! her noble Graeme, Prom e'en to morn she didna see. " An' she has sat her down an' grat, The warld to her like a desert seemed, An' she wyted this, an' she wyted that, But o' the real cause never dreamed. " The sun had drunk frae Kieldar fell His beverage o' the morning dew ; The deer had crouched her in the dell, The heather oped its bells o' blue : * * * * " The lady to her window hied, An' it open'd o'er the banks o' Tyne ; ' An' 0, alak ! ' she said an' sighed, ' Sure ilka breast is blythe but mine !

" ' Where hae ye been, my bonnie dow, That I hae fed wi' the bread an' wine ? As roving a' the country through, 0, saw ye this fause knight o' mine ? ' " The dow sat down on the window tree, And she carried a lock o' yellow hair ; Then she perched upon that lady's knee, An' carefully she placed it there. ' ' What can this mean ? This looks the same That aince was mine. Whate'er betide This lock I gave to Sir David Graomo, Tho flower of a' the Border side.' * * * * " The dow flew east, the dow flew west, The dow she flow ayont the fell, An' back she came wi' panting breast Ero the ringing o' tho castle bell. " She lighted ahiche on the holly-tap, An' she cried, ' cur-dow,' an' fluttered her wing Then flew into that lady's lap, Au' there she placed a diamond ring. " ' What can this meau ? This ring is the same That aince was mine.

Whate'er betide, This ring I gave to Sir David Graeme, The flower of a' the Border side.' * * * * " An' sho has sat her down an' grat," &c. " When lo! Sir David's trusty hound, Wi' humpling back, an' a waefu' eye, Came cringing in an' lookit around, But his look was hopeless as could be. " He laid his head on that lady's knee, An' he lookit as somebody he would, name ; An' there was a language in his howe o'e That was stronger than a tongue could frame. * * * * * " She followed the hound owre muirs an' rocks, Through mony a dell an' dowie glen, Till frae her brow an' bonnie goud locks, The dewe dreepit down like the drops o' raiu. * * " An' aye she eyed the gray sloth hound, As he windit owre Deadwater fell, Till he came to the den wi' the moss inbound, An' 0, but it kythed a lonesome dell !

" An' he waggit his tail, an' he fawned about, Then he cowied him down sae wearilye, ' Ah ! yon's my love, I hae found him out, He's lying waiting in the dell for me.' * * " Sae softly she treads the wee green swaird, Wi' the lichens an' the ling a' friuged around, ' My eeu are darkened wi' some west-weird, What ails my love, he sleeps sae sound ? ' " She gae ae look, she needit but ane, For it left nae sweet uncertainty ; She saw a wound through his shoulder bane, An' in his brave breast two or three. * * * * " There's a cloud that fa's darker than the night, An' darkly on that lady it came ; There's a sleep as deep as the sleep outright, 'Tis without a feeling or a name." driving sheep into a stell. snowstorm.

Chapter II. Hopes, Burns, And Haughs

— PALSTONE AND THE MOORS. MONGST Border terms, those at the head of this chapter are familiar, and as our way lies amidst scenery which abounds in hopes, burns, and haughs, we may refer to the derivation of the words before examining the features in the landscape for which they stand. Hope and haugh, with fell and force, are old Norse; indeed Worsaae tells us that exactly similar words are in use in Norway to-day. When the Norwegians visited Britain they generally settled in those parts of the country that were hilly like their own, and they called our hills, fells ; our waterfalls, fors or fosses ; and the flat pastures among the hills and by the river, haughs. " The word hope, among Norsemen," says Mr. Carr, " was generally applied to the mouths of rivers, and to havens into which rivers discharge themselves.

On Tyneside, hopes are side-vales, having generally an outlet in the larger valley of the river. Most of the hopes are watered by burns, which have much to do with their conformation." Mr. Carr points out that " hopes " give their names to the burns, and so differ from the larger valleys, which have theirs from the rivers which flow through them ; thus we have Thornhope-burn, and Harthope-burn, not Thornburni» t HOPES, BURNS, AND HAUGHS. hope, &c. The names of some of them are interesting, such as Hind hope, Hart-hope, Row-hope, and Hare-hope, which point to their having been the secluded haunts of these animals. Burn — pure Saxon — the Border word for a brook, is applied to nearly all the tributaries of the Tyne ; the term brook, by which we designate small flat country streams, would seem misapplied in reference to these of mountain birth.

As Thames and Tyne differ, so do their tributaries. Thames head is about 170 miles from London Bridge ; the river is at the latter place about 370 feet lower than at its source. Tyne — South Tyne Head — is from thirty-five to forty miles from Hexham, and the difference of elevation between the two points is from 1,700 to 1,800 feet, the Tyne having a fall more than four times greater over a distance four times less. The Thames and its brooks flow over tolerably even beds, whilst the Upper Tyne and its burns, meet with many rocks and impediments in their course. Julia, in a passage expressing the force of her passion for Sir Proteus, describes the burn and the brook side by side. " The more thou damm'st it up, tho more it burns ; The current, that with gentle murmur glides, Thou know'st, being stopp'd, impatiently doth rage ; But, when his fair course is not hindered, He makes sweet music with the euamell'd stones, Giving a gentle kiss to every sedge He overtaketh in his pilgrimage ; Aud so by many winding nooks he strays, With willing sport, to the wild ocean." ' And Robert Burns tells a secret when he sings — " The muse, nae poet ever sand her Till by himsel he learned to wander Adown some trotting burns meander And na' think lang."