The Burning Beacon

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Spittal-on-Rule

Spittal is full of interesting things like old farm buildings, ruins, an ancient bridge, an ancient graveyard site which was then re-used in the 17th century - featuring the last witch of Denholm, three freshwater wells - one of which cures leprosy!, and much much more.

 

A little history: 

"Spittal-on-Rule" name definition:  hospital on the river Rule.  Once upon a time this farm was actually three separate farms owned by the Veitches, Murrays and Bunyans, but through facts I won't mention without the correct information in front of me, these farms became one, situated at the junction point of the two rivers, Teviot and Rule, in 1807.  A shiny new farm steading was built in 1808.

Before this date Spittal was owned by the Douglases of Cavers.  (This next bit is sourced from 'Rulewater and Its People' by George Tancred) In 1563 William Douglas sold Spittal Mains to Gilbert Ker - note this would have been after that nototious Earl of Hertford burned pretty much the whole parish of Cavers in 1545.  Later on, in 1619 and thereabouts the tenants were Turnbulls. 

After the forming of three farms to one in 1807 the Turnbulls became owners of the farm in 1811.  In later years the farm was passed to the Teachers - who made whisky, dont know if they made it at Spittal.  There is now a wonderful Turnbull's shop and food outlet selling Hawick Turnbull's whisky on the High Street in Hawick because the Turnbull's also made whisky.  I cannot comment who makes the best best whisky as I have only tried Turnbull's whisky, which is fab.

I have even found a little old token coin in the fields with only the word "STILL" printed on either side.  No coincidence surely that the place was once teeming with whisky lovers!    

The farm then passed to the present owners who have had the farm for about forty years.  They dont make whisky.  But they do grow wheat - which becomes whisky sometimes...

 

There was once a chapel here, but while there is nothing visible to suggest where it's location was a number of old maps and documents suggest it was directly above the well that cures leprosy, near a current laurel bush growing in the graveyard. The graveyard is still there though.

The farm's hospital existed at the same time as the chapel, documented as existing in 1425, but I'm not sure how long a chapel on the site had existed for before this.

According to Ian Cowen & David Easson in 'Medieval Religious Houses, Scotland' (1976) the hospital at Rulemouth (an older name for Spittal-on-Rule) was for lepers, and was known as the hospital of St Mary in Teviotdale in 1510.  This book confirms that Spittal was one of the places burned by the Earl of Hertford (nasty man) in 1545. (p189-90)

 

Interesting places on the farm:

The Tiend Barn

This is (I think) the oldest building structure on the farm, and according to George Tancred was the oldest building in the parish, though I haven't come across a date for it yet.  The black and white drawing is from 'Rulewater and It's People', by George Tancred of Weens.  As you can see by the inscription the drawing is dated from 1907.

 

 Above image Tiend Barn 2006 before Changing Tiends, below image is from 2009 after the make over

The word Tiend originally means 'a tenth' and a tiend barn is the place where parishioners would leave a tenth of their produce and goods for the parish vicar, then later when the Parish of Cavers underwent a reorganisation and only had one priest for the whole parish, the tenth went to the church, in this case the abbey at Jedburgh.  So the tiend barn at Spittal is the place where the people of Spittal and surrounding 'towns' would leave their goods for the priest who took care of the now non-existent chapel - which suggests that the tiend barn dates back to at least the 1500's which is when the chapel is documented as having existed.

 

Toll Cottage

Freshly painted and renovated in 2004 Toll Cottage is the welcome sight to a return home after a long journey.  It is also known as "The Lucky House" .

It has a wall bracket in the lower rightwall bearing the number 1499, which was obscured many years ago.

People often wave to the cottage on their way past to where ever the road is taking them for luck..  It is possible that this stemmed from the custom of hailing the Toll Keeper back in the days when there was a levy on use of the road (the dirt-track seen in the photo) going down and crossing the Teviot river.  Please keep waving for luck! (if you do happen to win the lottery after waving at the cottage you know why)

The windows have been bricked up, there is no electricity to this building.  The last residents of Toll Cottage were a older couple who I hear were very friendly and were often seen out in their garden.  This must have been a while ago, at least thirty or more years ago. 

The Toll Cottage was last used as a place to collect money in 1880, from people in order to maintain the road leading to the crossing point of the Teviot river - which was the main crossing point to get to Minto and Hassendean before Denholm Bridge was built.

 

The Graveyard

The Graveyard is situated behind a house at Spittal, as it's back garden. From what I remember it was originally used as an ancient burial ground, that was then re-used (no, I dont think they dug people up and replaced them) in the 17th Century.  The earliest date I have found so far is somone being born in 1610

According to George Tancred of Weens' book "Rulewater and it's People", the last witch of Denholm is recorded as being buried here, (I will correctly document this quote when I have the book in front of me) and they could tell she was a witch because a robin alighted on her coffin and one of the ropes snapped as the coffin was being lowered into the ground!

Inscriptions found on stones include:

"Here lyes Agnes Mein Spous to Thomas Bunyie Measson in Spital, who died the 9 of April, 1717. Her age 64. 'O bitter feat then did he say, Depraived of wife and health am I, Fisik and spell dos not prevell, Lord to my long home would I be' "

"Here lies the body of Margaret Rutherford fpoufe to William White in Spittal who died October 16 day 1744 aged 58 years" (In the olden days when they were carving stones they used the letter 'f' instead of 's')

"Here lyes the body of James Bunyan fon to John Bunyan mason Spittal died May 1715 aged 26 years."

"Beatrix Buchan fpoufe to James Smith fen tenant in Hounam hif father who died 18 April 1746 aged 55 years.  John Smith their fon died 11 February 1710.  John Smith fon to the faid James Smith.  Margaret Buchan his fpoufe died 19 January 1742 aged 30 (days)  James Smith fon died 4 February 1768 aged 10 years.  Mary daughter died 14 June 1769 aged 17 years.  Margaret daughter fpoufe to Mr Thomas Ware North Shiels died 2 July 1776 aged 26 years and is buried there.  Robert Smith preacher of the gospel."

One of the stones under the earth has some letters I cant make out then the date 1665 followed by the letter 'A' then a heart then a letter 'H', then the date 1616.  The next line are the letters ASJL then the date 1733. 

The image below is of the graveyard's original entrance gateway.  there are more images of the stones here. The lock and key to the gateway was last known to be owned by George Tancred of Weens, in his private museum, in the 1900's.  The lock is said to have the name Turnbull and the crest of the Bull's head carved onto its oak.

The Orchard/Flora

The orchard is situated in the back garden along with the graveyard.  Seemingly at one point the fruit was shared with the Monks of Jedburgh.  Their apples range from cookers, crab and edible-from-the-tree and are really good in pies, as long as you're good at making pies that is.

There are also trees surrounding the graveyard that must be at least four hundred years old, and are really huge and beautiful.  There has been a treehouse on the lower branches of one tree for almost twenty years now in one form or another.  Currently derelict I am intending to rebuild it, just havent been home with lots of wood and nails and help yet!  (Plus I have the idea that I want an Alnwick Treehouse in miniature, with a wee turret, and the branches probably wouldnt want that, so I have to draw up some architect plans first....)

There are lots of pretty flowers like snowdrops and crocuses and daffodils that sprout up in clumps, as if on someone's grave site, only there are no stones marking them. 

The Well that Cures Leprosy

Down at the bottom of the garden/graveyard, behind the rhodedendron you can see in the graveyard photo above, and down a banking, is the well.  I have no photograph at the minute as I lost the ones I took a few years ago where you could clearly see the round shape (think of a wishing well, minus the roof bit, buried in the ground) and a stone slab.  There is still freshwater flowing to the well, though only a trickle on a rainy day.  

Currently the well is hidden under corregated iron sheeting, I guess for health and safety reasons, but you can imagine how it was in its former glory with a wee path leading down to it from the garden.

There are another two wells on the farm, but thisone  is the fabled leprosy curing well.  I wonder if it received the reputation because it was a freshwater site that would have been channelled from the hills during a time that the farm was used as a hospital, and perhaps the patients had never sampled that type of clean water before?  Though I do not know if the dates correlate, or how old the well actually is.

 

Rulewater Bridge

The Rule Bridge is documented as being built by the Douglases of Cavers in 1748.

According to a flush-bracket site, this bridge used to have a bracket on with number 1500. http://www.bench-marks.org.uk/bm1617

 

 

 

 

Memories of the Farm and Farmlife

SledgingSledging is amazing here, especially if you happen to have a quad-bike handy to get you up the hills a bit quicker!  Using whatever material comes to hand to make a sledge with - log bags filled with straw, or just by the seat of your waterproof trousers, those hills have seen many a speedy descent and numerous painful landings off a runaway sledge.  So many memories of sledging down different hills and learning where the rocks were.  Then there was coming home soaking wet and freezing, hanging gloves above the stove and holding your hands above the stove until they stung.

SnowmenOur garden somehow became the farm's place for building snowmen and even an igloo one year.  Everyone would muck-in to roll balls to contribute to the biggest snowmen we could possibly make, with the aid of stepladders and shovels.  They were there for weeks after every last drop of snow had melted.

Feeding the hens: the original hens had it in for me when I was a wee kid.  I used to go into the coop with a bucket of feed in one hand and a big stick in the other, wade my way through the flurry of hens trying to eat me, reach the feeders then go into the shed fighting off the vicious hens that wanted to eat me (I already mentioned them, didn't I?) then grab the eggs hoping there wasn't a hen in any of the nesting boxes ready to leap out and try to eat me (running theme here), then run all the way back to the entrance making sure I didn't break any eggs and make sure no hens escaped in their attempts to eat me.  Now the new hens are very sweet and friendly and tame and I can even stroke them when the new ducks aren't around and trying to eat me.

Horses: There have been many horses on the farm, we even found a few enormous horse-shoes that must have belonged to the cart-horses/cobs/clydesdales that would have ploughed the fields at some point.  There have been cross-country horses, eventing horses, cobs and who knows how many ponies.  One that sticks out in my memory above every other horse that's been on the farm while I've been there is Biscuit.  The most stubborn little grey Shetland/Highland pony that ever graced this earth.  This one time after I was riding him and found myself in the oh-so-familiar position of flying through the air after another one of his "well-you-can-make-me-jump-it-but-my-head's-going-down-for-grass-straight-after" jumps/bucks, he actually managed to pin me by all four of my limbs with his hooves.  Try as she could (for laughing) my sister couldn't move the pony without him stepping on me.  I still think it was a devious plan devised by the two of them ...  (Image of horseshoe against the only measure I had on me, an AA battery about 20mm in front of shoe)

 

Harvest: By far the busiest and most exciting time (for a kid) on the farm, except for snow, Christmas, birthday parties, bonfire night, and everything else as well.  A time when mum's took lunches and hot coffee to the dad's in the fields and we would all sit out in the sunshine on the freshly cut stubble and chew stalks of straw and the adults would laugh and I didn't have a clue what they were talking about but it was all funny anyway.  The deafening sound of the grain-dryer, and the wierd silence that began with the first signs of it shutting down for the night. 

The Great Fire: Once there was a fire in one of the sheds that held straw, next to the grain dryer and my sister and I peeked out of the window (guess we were supposed to be in bed) to watch the amazingness of fire engines and sirens being on the farm. The drier wasn't damaged and no one was hurt in the fire. 

The Flood of 2005:  Which I missed by a space of a few hours as I had to return to Newcastle to work.  After torrential rain, the river Rule burst its banks in a disasterously virocious way and in an unbelievably short space of time managed to put the lives of three people and three horses in danger.  That morning it was raining, the rivers didn't look worse than at other rainy times.  By the afternoon however, it was a different story.  The river had burst its banks and was also flooding the fields at an alarming rate with fast-flowing flood water filled with debris.   My sister had to return from work after being contacted about the state of the river, and my father, my sister and a neighbour had to wade waist-deep in fast torrents of flood water to reach the three horses (in a field near the junction of the two rivers), which were by then standing knee-deep in fast flowing water.  The horses were terrified and reluctant to move, and not without great struggle did the three people and three horses, exhausted, finally reach the safety of the main farm and the stables.  Such floods are not often seen in the area and the neighbouring town of Hawick made it the the news after suffering alot of damage.