Jubilee Drinking Fountain

Bobbing between the border of Northumberland and Scotland is what I'd call my sweet spot. I can see my beloved Cheviots and imagine the far reaches, a little further, of the Highland mountains and all the places in between.

My DNA is made up of North Northumberland and Scotland, so it suits that I should feel so at home here.

The safe, soft hues of Swinton Pink Sandstone are prominent throughout this Tweedy landscape and at a crossroads from Swinton to Norham we spied a perfect example of its use,

The Jubilee Drinking Fountain at Ladykirk.

As the name suggests, it was erected by local dignitary and philanthropist Lady Majoribanks in 1887 to commemorate the jubilee of Queen Victoria.

In quite a natural and undecorated landscape, this drinking fountain really jumps out as quite flamboyant and ornate amidst a backdrop of mature trees and farmland.

It is said that she had the fountain built to resemble a medieval conduit, a small sturdy building from which water was distributed. It's in the Gothic Revival style, which was de regueur in Victorian times. In fact, the Borders were alive at this time, leading the way in architectural high fashion!

Lady Marjoribanks was renowned for her extensive building projects, and her work at Ladykirk House, the gaff with the posh lion gates,would have been all the rage during the 1840s and 1850s, with projects to revamp the house, build a new riding school, an ice house, estate cottages, lodges and stables.

So, providing a communal fountain at the end of her days would have seemed like small change, but was a significant contributor to the wellbeing of passing people and animals.

The small village was once known by the unusual name of Upsettlington, but was later known as Ladykirk when the village and parish adopted the same name as the church.

It's finished with some nicely ornate details. On approaching, it looks vaguely religious with its pointed, spire-like top. It has echoes of a church font, and perhaps has overtones of the church at Ladykirk, a beautiful building with its sandstone solidity and pointed roof tops. Can you see a link?

Look at the ornate finial, pointing upwards to suggest spiritual aspiration and blessing to the Queen for the longevity of her reign.

Like many wells and fountains of the time, it is layered in symbolism. The classical-style columns, neatly sandwiched between ornate pilasters represent strength, stability, and, at the time, suggested the replication of the British Empire...solid and unshakable like the monarchy.

The scallop shell-shaped basin was also typical of the era, symbolising pilgrimage and safe passage for travellers. This would certainly have been the case for those weary of wandering and keen to receive refreshment after a steep climb from the Tweed. It is positioned with thought and care for the fellow wayfarer.

On the East face is a metal plate with the inscription -

ERECTED BY

THE RIGHT HONOURABLE

LADY MARJORIBANKS

OF LADYKIRK

TO COMMEMORATE THE JUBILEE

OF QUEEN VICTORIA ?

21ST JUNE 1887.

And some beautiful numeric detailing on the north face stating the date, intertwined in stone-carved numbers of 1887, overlaid. I loved this clever cuddling up of numbers.

On the west face is a moniker of what I think might be MS, perhaps for Mariane Sarah, as Lady Marjoribanks was known. Confusingly, you pronounce it Marchbanks. Oh, these aristocrats do like to fox us fountain frequenters!

She was born at Haggerston, the daughter of Sir Thomas Haggerston, who held the title of 6th Baronet. She shiftied up the Great North Road when she inherited Ladykirk House in 1830 from her maternal Grandfather.

A woman of the world, she didn't marry until 1834, when she fell for David Marjoribanks, and became the thoroughly modern Marian-Sarah, encouraging David, the fourth son of Sir John Marjoribanks of Lees, to take her family name of Robertson in order to inherit the estate of Ladykirk.

They were married for 39 years, restoring their estate when David was raised to the peerage as 1st Baron Marjoribanks of Ladykirk, a title he had gained through his work as a Liberal MP for Berwickshire as well as his work as Lord Lieutenant of Berwickshire, the Queen's representative of the county.

Just six days after being given his title, at the age of 76 he was struck down by a horse-drawn bus in Newcastle and killed, leaving his wife, Baroness Marjoribanks to live out her life at Ladykirk for the next 16 years as a widow and philanthropist, funding improvements for her local community.

I noticed the small door to the side and the pump handle, which reminded me of the need for clean water during these times, as diseases like cholera and typhoid were rife. Offering clean, drinkable water to communities was seen as a benevolent and generous thing to do. The workings of the fountain would all be housed behind this small door.

Sadly, like many old water fountains, it's no longer in action. With the advent of readily running water, public drinking troughs and water fountains were turned off.

Two sides of the fountain have fallen foul of the North East weather, and the shapes and patterns seem to have slipped in the sandstone, softening over time, whilst the other two sides, perhaps in a more sheltered position, still stand strong.

Opposite is a small mid-19th-century dwelling known as Fountain Cottage. Easy to find because of its proximity to the Jubilee Fountain and geographically spot on! It was a toll house, seemingly for those passing over Ladykirk and Norham Bridge.

The Jubilee Fountain is a solid reminder of the days when those with money were demonstrative with it, in order to support their communities with patriotism and benevolence. It looks quite out on a limb these days, standing on a bend in the road with cars whizzing by and no horse and carts to speak of.