The history of England, from the earliest times to the Norman ConquestHodgkin, Thomas
History
The history of England, from the earliest times to the Norman Conquest
Hodgkin, Thomas
Great Britain -- History -- To 1066
It must have seemed to Aidan when he visited the palace of the
king, his patron, as if it was a special act of Providence that had
fixed that palace where he found it. For here on the storm-beaten
Northumbrian coast, within six miles from the royal dwelling, lay
an island whereupon he could establish his monastery, and wherein
he could be out of the world yet within reach of the world like his
prototype Columba in Iona. This island which was given him by the king
for his possession, bore then and has borne intermittently ever since
the name of Lindisfarne; but even at this day for once that its legal
designation of Lindisfarne is mentioned, you shall hear it a thousand
times called by the endearing appellation of Holy Island, given to it
probably twelve centuries ago when it first received the imprint of
Aidan’s sandals. The island is but a small one, only about 1,000 acres
in extent, with three fair-sized farms, and a population of about 800
persons, chiefly engaged in fishing, and in winter often hard pressed
for subsistence. The beautiful ruins of the Benedictine abbey, the
parish church, the castle, built in the Commonwealth period, all belong
to ages long posterior to the time when it first became “Holy Island”;
but here, as at Bamburgh, the natural features of the landscape are
so unchanged that it requires but little effort of the imagination to
enable the beholder to travel backward through the centuries to see
Cuthbert praying among the sea-gulls, or Aidan slowly pacing the long
spit of sand which lay between him and the palace of the king. It will
be seen that it is spoken of as an island, and such for all practical
purposes it has ever been; for though on the north it stretches out a
long sandy arm to the mainland, and at dead low water travellers may
reach it from thence all-but dry shod, still their path, traversing
three miles of wet sand and leading them through the waste of waters on
either hand, seems to sever them from the mainland rather than to unite
them thereto, and the inhabitants are at this day islanders in heart
and feeling.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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