Where’s London? by G Evans
Submitted by: Sally Brewis - 21st January 2022
It was in September 1929 that my wife Gladys and I, she driving her 1913 Morris Oxford, decided to explore beyond Rothbury. The sun was setting as we came to the top of Sharperton Bank. She caught her breath at the glory before her: “The land of Beulah” she said – the last stopping place where pilgrims rest before entering heaven. If heaven is as lovely as Coquetdale, it must be beautiful beyond all description.
With exclamations of delight we drove on in our little car until we came to Alwinton. We asked if there was anyone who could give us a bed for the night. “Mrs. Dagg”, someone said, “at the Creel”, so thither we went. She gave us a delicious supper and we slept like tops.
Next day we explored as far as Linbrigg. It was there, on a promontory beside the pool, that I wrote my best poem, my wife sitting a few yards away reading a book by someone called Dippie Dixon! So began a life-time of love between ourselves and the Valley.
One blazing Bank Holiday we walked from Akeld over Cheviot, past Henhole and stopped at Battleshield for refreshment. Mrs Rutherford gave us a superb and unforgettable tea, everything home-made for there were no delivery vans. This was before the spread of radio and I asked Mr Rutherford what they did for news as they never saw the papers. “We have all the news we need”, he replied, pointing to the large family Bible from which they read daily. The Bible contained names of generations of the Rutherford family going centuries back.
I well remember the Rev. H.E.Y. Breffit, vicar of Alwinton, famous for his classical scholarship, his snow-white beard and his herd of pedigree goats.
And living in Sharperton were Jannett and Lizzie Robinson, Lizzie with her mail-bag and bicycle maintaining the links between the Valley and the outside world. I think of the awful grief we felt in 1959 when Jannett died suddenly and Lizzie was left to carry on alone. How magnificently she has risen to the challenge and how right the Queen was to invite Lizzie to the Garden Party and Buckingham Palace in 1973.
No wonder local people say to me, “London _ where’s London?” I almost agree with them. They’ve got everything that matters here!
First published in Clippings in 1989 (reprinted 1990), published by Upper Coquetdale Publications ISBN 0 9515 380 0 4