Stanwix, site of _Convagata_, obtains its name from the “stone way” the Saxons found here. Truth to tell, modern Stanwix is a sorry spot on which to meditate upon the departed colonial fortunes of Imperial Rome, for the Wall is gone and Stanwix church and churchyard stand upon the site of the fort. A precious ugly church, too, it is that has been built here: Early English only by intention; with a dismally crowded churchyard around it. A pathetic story is told by one of the epitaphs: “Here lie the mortal bodies of five little sisters, the much-loved children of A. C. Tait, Dean of Carlisle, and of Catherine, his wife, who were all cut off within five weeks.” They died during an epidemic of scarlet-fever, in 1856. A memorial window to them is in the north transept of the Cathedral. “A. C. Tait” was, of course, Archibald Campbell Tait, afterwards Archbishop of Canterbury. But if Stanwix be so ugly and commonplace, the scenery in which it is placed is extremely beautiful. The greater, then, the crime of those who have made it what it is. There is a lovely steep grassy descent, plenteously wooded with noble trees, that falls away from the ridge of Stanwix down to the Eden, and thus skirts the river for a mile or more. “Rickerby Holmes” is the name of this beautiful feature. From this point you gain the finest view of Carlisle. [Sidenote: _THE BORDER_] It is a flat, featureless country that stretches north from Stanwix across the nine miles to the Border-line. Miserable villages that are merely collections of gaunt cottages little better than hovels, often built of “dubbin,” _i.e._ clay and straw, occur at intervals. Nearly all of comparatively modern date, they point unmistakably to the fact that it is not so very long since to live in the Debatable Land was hazardous, and not to be thought of by the law-abiding. Very well indeed for moss-trooping vagabonds and cow-stealers, but not for the responsible, or those who wished for a quiet life. Passing Goslin Syke, where a marshy stream crosses the road, we come to Kingstown, where the road branches right and left. On this, the last stage to the Border, this parting of the ways meant much to eloping couples, bound for Scotland and marriage immediately on reaching Scottish soil.