None, I think, will disagree with these words of the learned Doctor, whether or not they may go as far as Cadwallader J. Bates, who, in concluding his chapter on the Roman Wall, gave it as his opinion that “unless the island is conquered by some civilized nation, there will soon be no traces of the Wall left. Nay, even the splendid whinstone crags on which it stands will be all quarried away to mend the roads of our urban and rural authorities.”
CHAPTER VIII.
SOME NORTHUMBRIAN STREAMS.
“Come, don’t abuse our climate, and revile
The crowning county of England—yes, the best.
Have you and I, then, raced across its moors.
Till horse and boy were well-nigh mad with glee,
So often, summer and winter, home from school,
And not found that out? Take the streams away,
The country would be sweeter than the South
Anywhere; give the South our streams, would it
Be fit to match our Borders? Flower and crag,
Burnside and boulder, heather and whin,—you don’t
Dream you can match them south of this? And then,
If all the unwatered country were as flat
As the Eton playing-fields, give it back our burns,
And set them singing through a sad South world,
And try to make them dismal as its fens—
They won’t be! Bright and tawny, full of fun
And storm and sunlight, taking change and chance
With laugh on laugh of triumph—why, you know
How they plunge, pause, chafe, chide across the rocks,
And chuckle along the rapids, till they breathe
And rest and pant and build some bright deep bath
For happy boys to dive in, and swim up.
And match the water’s laughter.”
Northumberland is fortunate in the number of rivers which, owing to the position of the Cheviot Hills, flow right across the county from west to east. These Northumbrian streams have a distinct character of their own, and are of a different breed from those of the southern; counties. They are neither mountain torrents nor placid leisurely rivers, such as are met elsewhere in Britain, but busy, bright, joyous, and sparkling, never sluggish, never silent, even when deep and full, as is the Tyne in its lower reaches. With the Tyne and its tributary streams we have already travelled; but there are others yet awaiting us, claiming our attention sometimes for the romantic scenery through which they run their bright course, sometimes for the historic sites they pass on their way, sometimes for both reasons. Wansbeck, Coquet, Aln, or Till—each has its own interest, as has also the Tweed in that score or so of miles along which it can he spoken of in connection with Northumberland.
The source of the Wansbeck, the only “beck” the county possesses, is amongst the “Wild Hills o’ Wannys” (Wanny’s beck) a group of picturesque sandstone crags which surround Sweethope Lough, a sheet of water which covers 180 acres. The scenery of this upper course of the Wansbeck is very striking, from the Lough to Kirkwhelpington, flowing between bleak moorland and rich pasture, and on to Littleharle Tower, which stands secluded in deep woods.