A little way up the Wark Burn, above the bridge, there may be seen some upright stems of Sigillaria in the exposed face of the cliffs.  On the opposite side of the river from Wark is Chipchase Castle, one of the finest mansions in Northumberland, standing in the midst of the beautifully wooded and picturesque scenery which, from this point onwards is characteristic of the North Tyne.  Of the former village of Chipchase scarcely a trace remains, though its name, if nothing else, shows that here has been a village or small town, important enough to have its well-known, market; for “Chip,” like the various “Chippings” throughout England is derived from the Anglo-Saxon ciepan—­to buy and sell, to traffic.  In the reign of Henry II., Chipchase was the property of the Umfravilles of Prudhoe; but later it passed into the hands of the well-known Northumbrian family of Heron.

Not far from Chipchase Castle are the famous Gunnerton Crags, formed by an out-crop of the Great Whin Sill.  These lofty cliffs have been the site of a considerable settlement of the ancient British tribes who dwelt in the district in such numbers, as is evident from the scores of camps, which may be traced all over this part of Northumberland.  The naturally strong position on the Gunnerton Crags, would be certain to commend itself to a people, the first requisite of whose dwelling places was strength and consequent safety.

At Barrasford the making of the railway cutting led to the opening up of a large barrow, or burial place, of the ancient Britons; and a single “menhir,” supposed to be the solitary survivor of a large group of these huge stones, stood near the village school some years ago.

Passing Chollerton and Humshaugh, embowered amongst spreading trees, we arrive at Chollerford, the prettiest village of North Tyne, lying near the river where it was crossed by the Roman Wall.  From the bridge which spans the Tyne at Chollerford one of the finest views of the river, both up and down the stream, is to be seen; and to watch the swift brown stream, after a flood or a freshet, foaming through the arches is an exhilarating sight.  The bridge itself is a modern one, for we know that all the bridges on the Tyne, except that of Corbridge, were swept away by the great flood of 1771.

In 1394, that prince of bridge-builders, Bishop Walter de Skirlaw of Durham, granted thirteen days’ indulgence to all who should assist in rebuilding the bridge at Chollerford; so that already there was one here which had evidently fallen into disrepair.  Yet, in the ballad of “Jock o’ the Side,” the rescuers, with Jock in their midst, reach Chollerford, and, after some anxious questioning of an old man as to whether the “water will ride,” are compelled to swim the Tyne in flood, which their pursuers, coming up, will not attempt to do.  Now Bishop Skirlaw’s bridges did not usually disappear; those of Yarm, Shincliffe, and Auckland have stood until to-day, with occasional repairs.  Are we