To continue the story about Oswald from yesterday’s post, Oswald went to battle against King Cadwallon at Heavenfield, near Hadrian’s Wall. Oswald was significantly outnumbered, so he installed a great wooden cross in the his camp and called his men together to pray for victory.
After he prevailed at Heavenfield, Oswald became king of Northumbria. He then sent to Iona to ask that they send him a bishop for his newly acquired kingdom. They sent Aiden. Aiden did not know the language of Northumbria, but Oswald having been raised at Iona knew both languages. Wo when Aiden preached Oswald would translate his sermons so people could understand the gospel.
Aiden also established the monastery at Lindisfarne, a tidal island only accessible when the tide goes out. As we approached Lindisfarne this rainy day we saw numerous pilgrims walking along the road to the causeway in their rain gear to cross on foot. As we drove by them, I’m sure some judged us for accessing the island with the help of a Vauxhall automobile, but I’m pretty sure Aiden wasn’t wearing Gore-Tex either.
Because we had been to Lindisfarne, we didn’t spend too much time at the ruins of the 12th century abbey, although we did find a stone monument there marking where Cuthbert was originally buried. We also walked to the shore to get a good look at Cuthbert’s Island, a tiny island off the southern coast of Lindisfarne to which Cuthbert would retreat to be alone with God.
Next, we walked back around the other side of the abbey to the bay where the Vikings murdered the Lindisfarne monks in 793 A.D., marking the start of 200 years of Viking terrorism on and domination of Britannia. The coastline had since receded and been covered with grass, but we could still see the contours of what used to be the beach where it had happened.
Lunch and the warm, dry setting of a pub were welcome after hiking in the cold, wind, and rain, but before long I was chomping at the bit to get moving. I tried to hurry the rest of the team without putting too much pressure in the system. We still had to get to Heavenfield.
We exited the causeway without doing anything sign worthy in search of Cuthbert’s cave and armed with some sketchy directions from a tour guide at Lindisfarne, which included a reminder to take one turn where there is no longer a sign for Cuthbert’s cave. Not a good sign.
The directions led us to a single lane road and past a handwritten sign indicating the location of the cave was not accessible by car. Then we came to a gate. At this point, I set out on foot and left the rest of the team in the car. We were short on time, so I was partly walking, partly jogging.
After about twenty minutes I came by some pilgrims walking down the hill in the opposite direction. I’m sure they were wondering, “Who’s this guy in the baseball cap, Tommy Bahama topsiders, and Ralph Lauren golf slacks (now soaked to the knees from the tall wet grass), running toward Cuthbert’s Cave?”
Once I got over the hill the the path was practically disappearing into tall ferns. I followed what I could see of the path down to where I saw it turning left toward what looked like it could be a cave, but I found nothing. I was running out of time.
My GPS on the phone indicated the cave was 200 feet to my left, but I couldn’t see a path in that direction. I looked back the way I had come and could barely see a path leading back. Then a thought occurred to me–no, it was a headline, “Well dressed American tourist lost in search of Cuthbert’s Cave.”
I had to get out of there, but it wasn’t clear which way was out. I tried to retrace my steps and almost immediately came to a fork in the path I hadn’t noticed coming down. I chose the most direct path up the hill, but when I got near the top, I realized it was wrong, I went back down, and took the other path, and got to the top of the hill where I had last seen a human.
I began jogging down the wet hillside, trying to not fall and pushing myself to the edge of my stamina. When I arrived back at the car I was sweating , my slacks were wet up to my knees, and my shoes and socks were completely soaked. I mean, squishing-when-you-walk soaked.
In the end, it was a cave too far. Along with Cuthbert’s Island, it would have to be left for a future tour. The team took it in stride, noting that while I had been gone, the cows had engaged in some unmentionable activity at the fence just a few feet from the car. Yes, while I was in search of Cuthbert’s cave, the rest of the GSB team was watching cow porn.
Now we were really crunched for time. There was pressure in the system. We turned the car toward Heavenfield, a little more than an hours drive southwest.
Heavenfield Battlefield and St. Oswald’s Church are easy to miss, and we drove right past them. It was only when coming back the other direction we saw the big wooden cross by the side of the road. About 5o yards away are the remains of Hadrian’s Wall, which Oswald and his troops kept at their back in the battle to keep from getting flanked by Cadwallon’s army.
Our last stop was just a few miles away at Heddon-on-the-Wall, which Chatgpt told us had the best preserved part of Hadrian’s Wall in the area. Roman Emperor Hadrian ordered the wall built in 122 A.D. to keep out the then pagan Picts, who continually raided the English country side from what is now Scotland. The remains of the wall at Heddon-on-the-Wall give some idea of the girth of the wall, but not its height. When it was finished the wall was 10 feet wide and 15 feet tall.
The world loves walls, but the Lord is a destroyer of walls, not a builder of them:
For He Himself is our peace, who made both groups into one and broke down the barrier of the dividing wall, 15 by abolishing in His flesh the enmity, which is the Law of commandments contained in ordinances, so that in Himself He might make the two into one new man, thus establishing peace . . .
Ephesians 2:14–15 (NASB)
The wall Hadrian built would ultimately become obsolete once Columba and his disciples did with the gospel what the Romans could not do with their swords.
I don’t think it ever stopped raining the entire day, and when we stopped at Alnwick for dinner on the way back to our hotel in Chathill, we were all tired and hungry, but our last full day on this journey was a memorable one. GS