Pendragon Castle & One Poor Sinner

Pendragon Castle is one of my favourite sets of ruins, pleasantly situated in Cumbria’s Mallerstang Dale, near Kirkby Stephen. A happy day out with my aunt had us drive down a ridiculously narrow lane a decade ago, but last month’s visit took an easier route. Perhaps I like it because of its name. Pendragon was the father of King Arthur. The castle may have been a place at which Arthurian-era Celts withstood the Saxon invaders. Alternatively, fanciful aristocrats from the time of Edward III thought they would add some legendary spice to their castle’s status. The current owner, Mr Bucknall, shared with the Yorkshire Post a local rhyme, in which the castle’s first ruler tried, and failed, to divert the River Eden for use as a moat:

Let Uther Pendragon do what he can, Eden will run where Eden ran.

The castle’s owners had more luck influencing politics than they did the natural world. It was a later proprietor, Sir Hugh de Morville, who went down to Canterbury Cathedral to murder Archbishop Thomas Becket on 29^th December, 1170. Henry II's famous “Who will rid me of this turbulent priest” is likely fictitious, he more likely saying "What miserable drones and traitors have I nourished and brought up in my household, who let their lord be treated with such shameful contempt by a low-born cleric?" Either way, de Moreville and three colleagues took the hint and hacked the Archbishop to pieces. A stage play of the murder I watched at Word Alive in 2019, which certainly portrayed Becket as a Christian hero, bravely withstanding the encroachments of a malevolent king. Pendragon’s owner was excommunicated for his trouble by the Pope, who refused to forgive him even after he travelled to Rome in person to perform penance. He was ordered to go on crusade, among other things. Clearly, cutting down archbishops is a not a good thing to do, and neither is having remorseful dealings with their big boss in Rome:

Hugh sought pardon, to the Pope he ran; none was found, for only Christ can.

Forgivess of sin is not found in priests and popes, in Rome or Jerusalem. It could have been readily obtained in Mallerstang; had a repentant Sir Hugh knelt down in that dale and asked God's forgivess through Christ's shed blood, he would have received it, instantly. 

If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins, and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness. 1 John 1:9