DAY FIFTEEN: Lindisfarne and Bamburgh

Last day - Lindisfarne Priory on Holy Island. The monks lived within protective sight of the Nothumbrian kings at Bamburgh, high tide isolated it from the mainland creating the remoteness they desired and it has a deep water harbor. There Eadfrith, who was bishop of Lindisfarne 698–721, created the Lindisfarne Gospels, one of the worlds' greatest artistic and religious treasures recounting the life of Jesus according to Matthew, Mark, Luke  and John (survives in the British Library, London). 

Before a road was built to Holy Island pilgrims would walk a path across the sand flats. A line of poles were erected in 1860 for navigation.You couldn't have been better warned about when to cross the causeway. Signs with photos of submerged cars caught in the the tide were everywhere.

I learned something big today... this is NOT Lindisfarne Priory!

HA! I always thought this was the place, it's not, it's the castle. As disappointing as it was to learn the images of isolated monks and Viking ships sailing up to this citadel (movies are to blame) is false, the story is still the same, and it takes nothing from it. The "real" monastery is in the village overlooking the castle and the sea. 

We left the best for last and sort of an ancestral pilgrimage since I'm 2% Scandinavian. Holy Island doesn't like to play up the Viking raid on the monastery in 793, instead focusing on the Christian community and the Gospels - all wonderful - BUT.....where's the fun in that? 

"This year came dreadful fore-warnings over the land of the Northumbrians, terrifying the people most woefully: these were immense sheets of light rushing through the air, and whirlwinds, and fiery dragons flying across the firmament. These tremendous tokens were soon followed by a great famine: and not long after, on the sixth day before the ides of January in the same year, the harrowing inroads of heathen men made lamentable havoc in the church of God in Holy-island, by rapine and slaughter."Entry for the year 793 in the Anglo Saxon chronicle

Well Worn Steps to the Monks Dormitory

 Undeniably barbaric and savage,  it never fails to capture the imagination for me.  793 provided the perfect dramatic entrance into the fascinating history of the Viking empire and particularly their role in British history. They helped shape England as it's known today. The thought of such a sudden and brutal attack is fascinating on a Hollywood scale, particularly when one comes to see the Priory and imagines just how powerful an impact that raid would have had on such a remote and peaceful community. Blood-thirsty warriors tearing up Christians and carrying prisoners off to their fierce-looking ships during daring raids.  A terrible day for Lindisfarne it may have been, but nevertheless a very important one. The Vikings were a fascinating culture of people.

The word at the time, Northumbrian scuttlebutt, was, they deserved what they got. 
The logic behind this thinking was that for something this bad to happen to arguably the holiest site in 8C Britain, then the local community had to have done something very bad themselves in order to evoke the wrath of God. The Anglo Saxon chronicle’s entries for the years preceding 793 is a catalogue of a series of very un-Christian behavior. One could think their isolation had lead to them straying into the pages of Richard III or maybe Macbeth; usurpers, murders and political assassination were the order of the day, even hairstyles and fashion sense had become reckless and unholy.

Discipline meted out by God had a new face,  spoke a new language and favored a new form of transport and all of this scared the living daylights out of the Anglo Saxons. Viking raiders fitted the bill very well for anyone in the 8C casting around for a hellish and bloody band of people - reportedly bringing the punishment of God down on the heads of wayward Christians.

Not one single raider would have been seen sporting a lovely pair of horns on either side of their helmet; neither would they have been hell-bent on destroying absolutely everything and anybody that they could find; and I doubt there was  time nor inclination for a monk to pull out a piece of paper and scribble down the phrase "A furore Normanorum, libera nos Domine" (From the fury of the north-men, God deliver us) as history states.

Saxon Cross Staff

Horns on one’s helmet are just not practical. They offer no protection and any impact upon them would jar the helmeted head severely .  Add to this the matter of the rigging and the large square sail of a ship filled with warriors  and you will almost certainly become entangled in something or poke someone’s eye out!

In the museum is a carved stone showing a group of men with swords and axes raised, believed to be a depiction of the Viking raid.  No one is wearing a helmet with horns.

Reproduction of a Carved and Painted Name Stone

Fantasy aside, there's no denying that the raiders did inflict terrible slaughter and injury on many people and that there were certainly many deaths on Lindisfarne that day. It would be inaccurate to suggest that these raiders lacked any purpose other than complete devastation of Lindisfarne and all those within the community. 
One interpretation of the timing of this raid might suggest that it was a much more organized affair rather than a lucky strike. Sailing right across the North Sea and arriving at Lindisfarne first time in the middle of January is somewhat hard to believe, even super-human. It is possible that they may have launched from elsewhere along the coast. Having gathered what information they could about Lindisfarne they could then plan a more precise attack. It is also possible then that they knew of Lindisfarne’s wealth, the size of the community there and the nature of that community - monasteries were popular targets as they were seldom well defended but had great riches.

Intricate Saxon Knotwork

 Lindisfarne suggests that Vikings had a flare for organised crime. They were far from the mindless savages that they are portrayed as. The crew that reached Lindisfarne in 793 were only the beginning of something much larger and only displayed a fraction of their potential.

From Holy Island, Bamburgh on the Horizon

Ragworm

  
I noticed holes in the sand, perfect holes about 2-3" in diameter. Beside each hole was a pile of spaghetti-like sand. I asked someone what this was, they said Ragworm. They're large, centipede-like creatures, popular for bait. Outer space! 

Lighthouse 1910

Someone Got Creative With These Cement Blocks

View of the Village From the Castle

Sunday Afternoon Cricket

Will Be Back! 

Our last day ticked on. Back in Bamburgh we have soup and tea at the Copper Kettle Tea Rooms. The building used to be one of 4 identical  18C cottages for workers restoring the castle. Then a walk to the lighthouse along the beach and around the castle. Bamburgh is not a pretty structure, too many eras built on and that red stone again, but it's imposing and majestic as it dominates the village from every angle. I can't imagine living with it as a daily backdrop. There was a cricket match starting up, lots of ice cream being eaten, dogs being walked. Time to have a last dinner and pack up, it's an early 6AM drive to Newcastle in the morning to catch the plane to London. Time to part company. We will say good bye to the North, to the beautiful wild crags of the Wall, which turned out to be so much more than I expected and an adventure to cherish. 
The sun came out too, to wish us farewell. A perfect end to an amazing trip.

As always I have to thank my wonderful shoes. Water, mud, lots of mud, nettles, tea shops, pavement, shopping, 5-star hotel carpets, sheep poo, cow pats, Roman stones, medieval castles.