To the Island of Tides. Alistair Moffat
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TO THE
ISLANDOF TIDES
Also by Alistair Moffat
The Sea Kingdoms: The History of Celtic Britain and Ireland
The Borders: A History of the Borders from Earliest Times
Before Scotland: The Story of Scotland Before History
Tyneside: A History of Newcastle and Gateshead from Earliest Times
The Reivers: The Story of the Border Reivers
The Wall: Rome’s Greatest Frontier
Tuscany: A History
The Highland Clans
The Faded Map: The Lost Kingdoms of Scotland
The Scots: A Genetic Journey
Britain’s Last Frontier: A Journey Along the Highland Line
The British: A Genetic Journey
Hawick: A History from Earliest Times
Bannockburn: The Battle for a Nation
Scotland: A History from Earliest Times
The Hidden Ways: Scotland’s Forgotten Roads
TO THE
ISLANDOF TIDES
A JOURNEY TO LINDISFARNE
ALISTAIR MOFFAT
First published in Great Britain, the USA and Canada in 2019 by Canongate Books Ltd, 14 High Street, Edinburgh EH1 1TE
Distributed in the USA by Publishers Group West and in Canada by Publishers Group Canada
This digital edition first published in 2019 by Canongate Books
Copyright © Alistair Moffat, 2019
Maps copyright © Andy Lovell, 2019
The moral right of the author has been asserted
British Library Cataloguing-in-Publication Data A catalogue record for this book is available on request from the British Library
ISBN 978 1 78689 632 2
eISBN 978 1 78689 633 9
For Richard Buccleuch
Contents
Preface: A Short History of Lindisfarne
Map: The Holy Island of Lindisfarne
11. When God Walked in the Garden
Author’s Note
One of my most treasured possessions is a small cache of letters. Written in a looping, spidery hand with sentences that turn corners up the sides of pages before abruptly dipping overleaf, they are full of criticism and advice. The writer was a retired librarian and borrower of all my books but I never knew his or her name. Received over a four-year period, all of the letters were signed A Reader and no return address appeared at the top of the first of many pages. Not that there was room for one.
The last letter was never posted. It arrived inside another envelope with a compliments slip from a care home in Berwick-upon-Tweed. I took it that my critic had died before the letter could be dispatched and something prevented me from calling the care home to ask for a name. He or she had not wished to give it and I felt I ought to respect that.
Most of the criticism was a helpful mixture of pointing out blunders, a wrong date or mistaken identity and suchlike, and there were occasional comments on inaccurate use of language and poor style. ‘Posterity is not an interchangeable term for history’ and ‘using a dash is simply slovenly’ or ‘try not to over-use the ablative absolute at the beginning of a paragraph’.
His or her advice was to try to understand better the importance of place in history and to get out from in front of my screen and visit the sites of important events or where important people passed their lives. One letter surprised me by suggesting (or maybe insisting) that I should read the opening chapter of Daphne du Maurier’s Frenchman’s Creek, ‘a delicate and enchanting evocation of place and how it has been seen differently over the centuries’.
Before I began work on this book, I took this unexpected advice and re-read Frenchman’s Creek. I was indeed enchanted once more. At the peak of her powers, du Maurier wrote about the Helford River mouth on the Cornish coast and the inlet that gave her novel its title. Almost cinematic in its imagery, the opening chapter is intensely atmospheric, a world of winds, tides and a silence broken only by the call of nightjars. Du Maurier moves seamlessly between Restoration England and the