I found this a very interesting visit. The family consisted of two brothers and a sister, all {173} unmarried. They were the last remaining members of the Burtholme family, who have occupied this cottage since the sixteenth century. It had been the village smithy, and their father had been the last of a series of "Thomas Burtholmes, blacksmiths," who figure largely in the parish register. The cottage was full of tokens of antiquity. On the old dresser there was the most beautiful and complete set of pewter plates that I have ever seen, each plate marked "T. B.," and I understood that Lady Carlisle had more than once borrowed them for exhibition at Naworth Castle on some special occasion. But as for the Roman mile-castle, they also had never heard of it; so we went back to the Wall, and there, quite clearly discernible, it lay, between the line of the Wall and the Hare Hill cottage; and though nothing but grassy mounds could be seen, still it was something to have a "castle" of any sort in one's garden, so the proud owner thought! He told me he was a Tynemouth man, and had come to stay at Lanercost Temperance Hotel many years ago, when paralyzed after a bad smash-up in a railway accident; and there, in the country peace and quiet, he had learned to walk again. No wonder that he loved the neighbourhood, and had been glad to secure this cottage for his permanent use. Lanercost Temperance Hotel was my objective {174} that evening, and he offered to show me the shortest way, continuing the line of the Wall from his garden. We went through a farm-yard and along the fields, seeing bits of the Wall in the hedge at frequent intervals, and the ditch in the next fields to the north. Below, on the left, ran the Vallum, sometimes clearly seen, and sometimes disappearing in the Priory Woods. Up Craggle Hill the Wall-ditch is very strongly marked, and in one place is full of water. There is a lovely view from this hill, stretching right over Carlisle to the Solway, and to Scotland, and the Lake-mountains. At Hayton-gate Farm we left the Wall and turned down southwards, crossing the Vallum, and soon coming into the lane which leads to Lanercost Priory. The Vicar of Lanercost was standing outside the ancient gateway of the Priory; the evening service was just over, and he was apparently taking leave of the last departing member of his congregation. My guide performed a rough-and-ready introduction as we drew near, shouting: "Mr. ---- here's a pilgrim to see you who has walked from Wallsend." The Vicar came forward and shook hands, and then kindly promised, at my request, to let me have the keys of the Priory at nine o'clock next morning, instead of the usual hour of ten. The beauty of the ruins in their warm red stone struck {175} me very forcibly as I saw them now for the first time in the evening light.