27 August 2016 Bleatarn Farm, Irthington, near Brampton, Cumbria

Today was all about Hadrian’s Wall, but started more about agricultural harvest. Andrew called late yesterday evening, barely before dark, limping and apologetic about the lateness of the hour and the crowded nature of the small field. His recent accident has tipped his life upside down which includes rather muddled management of occupancy schedules. He and his father work the farm on which we are camped, an area of four hundred acres carrying sheep and beef, and much of the area arable ready for harvest in the morning, weather permitting.

We had been subjected to strong winds as we had arrived in the more gentle geology about Carlisle yesterday afternoon, and while it had not interferred with our own progress, it was hoped it might serve to dry the grain early this morning. I woke to the sound of large farm machinery in the lane through the hedge; harvest was underway, and we were in for a sunny day. 

And so we headed off soon after 9am, wending our way through the nearby village of Irthington which boasts no more than a pub for public convenience, and then on to Brampton, where we found the local Co-op store. Newspaper purchased and lunch already packed in the eski, we drove on a further seventeen miles eastwards, arriving at the National Heritage site near The Wall known as Housesteads.

The first matter to be dealt with was parking, £4 required for the privilege of doing so. Chris uttered very rude words indeed, followed by more abuse directed rhetorically. I rummaged through our parking change, fed the meter and off we went without further ado. In fact the parking rip-off was not referred to again, so impressed with the attraction was my dear husband. 

The ruins at Houseteads

Roman Emperor Hadrian ordered the wall built in 122 AD when fierce fighting in the North had only just been brought under control. Realizing that the cost of conquering the whole island would far exceed the economic gains, he decided to build a permanent frontier – the Wall. It was really an admission of the limits of Roman power.

Housesteads, known as Vercovicium to the Romans, is the best preserved of all sixteen forts on the Roman frontier of Hadrian’s Wall. The fort was begun around 124 AD and occupied for about 280 years by up to 800 auxiliary soldiers, as well as a civilian settlement outside the walls in later years.

 
The path from the car park up to the museum near the ruins is quite steep, is littered with sheep excrement and obviously proved too much for some of the tourists we saw today.  But the walk is very worthwhile, the little museum occupying one of the stone buildings in a farm complex built in later years has a wealth of information concerning the years of Roman occupation. The ruins are well labelled, and require much less imagination that others we have seen. The four gates, latrines, commanding officer’s house, hospital, bathhouse, headquarters, and barracks are all clearly discernible. We spent some time walking around the site then walked several hundred metres westward along the wall, partly on top of the structure. 

Today Hadrian’s Wall does not survive to its original height. It is thought to have been up to 3.1 metres thick and about 4 to 4.5 metres high. At the top there was probably a protected walkway for the soldiers to patrol. At first the wall was built of either stone, or in the western third, of turf and timber. The wall ran for 124 kilometres making the most of the natural contours for defence. Along its length, castles and turrets made it virtually impregnable to attack.

From the Wall looking west

After a couple of hours up on the hill, from which there were wonderful views in all directions, we returned to the entry near the car park and picnicked whilst watching the assortment of folk filing their way through the gate, a highly entertaining pastime.

Our next destination was back toward our camp, about twelve and a half miles along a most picturesque route through lovely farmland. Birdoswald is another Roman Fort, this one less impressive in the level of preservation, but complementing our visit to Housesteads perfectly. Here at Birdoswald, there is a good display explaining the archaeological aspect of the Wall and detailing the lives of the men who worked on and at the Wall all those centuries ago. This was complemented yet again by an excellent hourly presentation by a chap pertaining to be Marcus, a Roman auxiliary of the time. The audio presentation within the museum explained the demise of the stones that had so laboriously been hewn from the earth to fashion the Wall and the forts. Over the years, subsequent civilisations have recycled the building materials for other structures, sometimes at great distance from their Roman placement.

Views from Birdoswald

Today we encountered many walkers intent on walking at least part of the Wall over the long weekend, and did converse at length with one couple who were on Day Three of their expedition, tomorrow to be the culmination of their great achievement. They remarked that the first day revealed no sign of the Wall at all, the second only a little more and they were greatly relieved and delighted to see so much more today. The sections we explored today are the best of all.

By the middle of the 19^th century, John Collingwood Bruce published “The Roman Wall”, one of the great academic works on the subject. At the same time, scientific archaeology was taking place at Birdoswald for the first time. Over the next one hundred and fifty years, the fort would gradually give up its secrets. And today there were certainly many folk about, ready to learn as much as they could, while enjoying the sunshine and the opportunity for exercise in the country air.

Four and a half miles on, we arrived at the Lanercost Priory, which is near the Wall, and no doubt owes some of its structure to Roman building blocks, but is popular with tourists for a different reason.

Lanercost Priory

The history of the priory is certainly not as old as The Wall, but spans a greater number of documented years. It was founded in 1169 as an Augustinian House of Prayer and suffered from the Border Wars. In 1306 Edward I came for a third time and stayed beyond his welcome. He arrived on a litter, with his family and entire household, including the Queen, Prince Edward and some two hundred individuals, all to be housed and fed. He intended to stay a few days but his health was poor, winter arrived and he was obliged to remain at the priory. Apart from the costs of hospitality, repairs and renovation were undertaken at his request. Carpenters, builders, labourers and workmen, a force numbering about three dozen or more were employed to install timber, lead and glass brought in from elsewhere. The Great Seal was brought to the priory so for a time, Lanercost became the official capital of England. And then, in March 1307, the king and his hangers-on left for Carlisle, and he died at Burgh-by-Sands, on the banks of the Solway, after having made no contribution toward the visit and related costs at all. The Priory was skint, and this is all remembered even today as if it were yesterday. (So much for Christian forgiveness!) 

Edgar Boehm's effigy

The Monastic House was closed in 1538 as part of the Dissolution, and the north aisle became the parish church, which still operates as such today. To accommodate more worshippers, the nave was re-roofed and glazed in the 18^th century; this because in the years after the Diissolution, lead and glass and any other useful bits of construction were stripped and recycled elsewhere.

English Heritage administers the priory ruins in partnership with the parish, and it was in the entry reception we learned much more about the ruins we were about to explore, including having some special features drawn to our attention.

It was interesting to note that while the transepts remain without a roof, dead Earls and the like have continued to be placed throughout the space even into this last century. One rather touching tomb was that of a baby who died in 1883, whose effigy had been fashioned in terracotta by Edgar Boehm. Most effigies in churches and cathedrals seem to be rather idealistic; this was all too real. 

It had been a full day and we returned home satisfied with our touring, a little sunburnt and certainly ready for a quiet evening. It seems as I write this that our neighbours are more ready to party; perhaps their days were more sedentiary? I am sure that Andrew and his father will be ready for an early night, and hoping for another day of good weather tomorrow.