Through The Letterbox by Devices Writers’ Group - HTML preview

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Annette Piper

11

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Reiver’s Report

by Mel Humphries-Cuff

Letter to the Deputy Warden of the

Western Marches,

The Castle, Carlisle

12th November, 1517

Dear Uncle

I have the honour to send you my report on our

hidden clips to the experienced. Martin Elliot now led us recent raid into Byrecleuch to relieve the Scottish mal-onwards as the moon began to rise. The light was help-

contents of their cattle and horses. I also crave your

ful to our progress, but we would sooner have enjoyed

indulgence for the intel igence of my affairs of the heart. low cloud to passage in the dead of night.

In the chil of the back room we dressed in shirt,

My thoughts drifted to Jane Armstrong, her

breeches and boots. Carefully we put on our leather

blonde hair and gracious outline fil ing my mind. She

jackets with plates of metal for protection. Armed with was turning into a clever young woman, not always ideal our short lances, daggers and cutting swords, we

I was told, but in Jane - oh yes. And had she not given donned our steel bonnets and mounted our steeds. As

me her troth last year under the ancient cross at the

the sun went off the tops of the trees four of us

church of St Cuthbert? Was it not now time to make our

mustered at Bewcastle, Richie and Sim Armstrong, my

commitment?

brother and I. With a party of fifteen we set off up the hill My thoughts were too far away from the present

through the Stones of Cree and into the wooded land

and my pony stumbled on a boulder that nature had

beyond Oakshaw. We kept our progress steady and

carelessly strewn across my path.

rode around Langstile so as not to be

“Watch what ya doin’ laddie.”

noticed. Then at Mintors Burn we met

Johnnie Armstrong, my superior

with Martin Elliot, Johnnie Armstrong ,

in experience by ten years, said

Robin Crozier and their party of ten.

in a hushed tone. “I ken you’re

As the evening closed in our progress

not concentrating properly on

was veiled from prying eyes. Very little

the job in hand.”

was said. Silence was important.

At the edge of the Tarras Waste

My mare led wel as we headed

we paused for breath before

for Liddesdale. Although only six she

breaking out onto stark open

was already proving herself a very

moorland to the north. Presently

surefooted animal who could find her

we could make out the dark

way through the toughest of wetland which can so easily shapes of the Langholm and Newcastleton Hills ahead bog you down. Now she picked her route unshod

and to the left of us. Sim Armstrong was now starting to through the pebbly ground which heralded the edge of

push the pace as we travelled high into the val ey of the Liddel Water. Richie Armstrong came ahead of me on

Hermitage Water. He and my eldest brother were both

his tal er gelding to navigate the route through the river veterans of Lord Dacre’s victorious Border horse at

which was low after the dry autumn. We entered the

Flodden. As we started to circle round behind

Tarras Moss, a confusion of marshy ground and thick

Byrecleuch I could feel the presence of the stark, impos-bushes to the uninitiated, a haven of secret tracks and ing fortress that was Hermitage Castle to my right. This 12

was the most crucial part of our journey, for to be caught whom I wished to spend the rest of my life, however now would mean imprisonment or death. I may have felt short that may be.

a slight strain on my frame with this forced journey

There was a warm welcome as Sim, Robin and

across hill and dale, but stil my mare travelled on, her those who had stayed back arrived in camp. They had

stamina and that of her breed an inspiration to us all.

not been followed although they had remained three

With one hand on my sword and the other holding hours to give us time to get the livestock to Tarras. We my reins my senses were prepared for anything or any-changed the guard and waited until nightfall to continue one this uncompromising landscape could throw at us.

on our way. The weather had now turned and in the

For the last time we stopped to regain our

dark my mare carefully picked her way through the

strength. The plan was known by al so we sat mute

heathland with ease, despite the rain and rough country.

until our ponies’ breathing had quietened. There were

We successfully crossed the Liddel, skirted Blinkbonny

now enough clouds scudding over the moon to provide

and passed over the border. Now we headed to the wild

good cover for our final advance.

fell and moor area of the Bewcastle Waste where we

With the silence of an owl we swooped down into could hide up and divide our spoils. My brother and I Byrecleuch. Al was quiet and with intuitive stealth we were wel rewarded with nine head of cattle and, accom-started to round up the cattle and horses from the

panied by Richie and Sim Armstrong, we made our way

settlements. A dog barked and a cry went up as some-

back home.

one had woken to our activities. People began to

With my booty I could impress upon my father the

emerge, some bleary-eyed, some alert. Sim cut a man

need for me to take a wife. Then I must impress upon

down and my brother attacked two individuals who tried Jane that she would never fare wel in a household who to make for their horses. Others retreated back into their did not understand her people’s struggle for survival. I dwellings, shouting threats of revenge. Our work was

must point out how it would not be possible for her to be carried out with great speed and efficiency for we had

proud of a man who could not fight with the best of

planned this as a short raid. Tonight there would be no them..

burning or looting of the houses, or extensive slaughter She must understand that this was a way of life to

unless necessary.

which she had been bred. She must be convinced to

Soon we were heading south-east having lifted

banish these foolish plans and stay in the land of her

over a hundred head of cattle as well as seven horses.

forefathers where the bond of kinship is a quality her

The beasts were not fast, but this was the best time of fancy man would never possess.

year for reiving. The quarry were stil fit and wel fed While there were separate kings on the thrones of

from their high summer grazing and they drove wel as

England and Scotland, this lawless debatable land

Martin El iot now took us the complicated route over the needed the good women who had been bred in it. Then, tops in the hope of preventing anyone following.

maybe one day for our descendents, there would be a

At Scarry’s Rock Sim Armstrong and Robin

glorious future.

Crozier, with four men, descended into a depression to

I remain, Sir, your devoted servant and nephew,

wait in ambush perchance anyone should choose to

pursue us. On reaching Tarras Moss we stopped and,

Thomas Nixon

as the sun started to rise, we holed up for the day to let the livestock rest, feed and water while we took it in