Between Britain: Walking the History of England and Scotland

by Alistair Moffat

The border between Scotland and England is rich in history. It has been the site of battles, treaties, castles and crossroads. It is also a place where both countries display their Saltires flying in the north, the Cross of St George to the south. But it can also be a lens through which to look at the changing history and identities of these two countries.

Alistair Moffat is a life-long borderer and the ideal guide on this one-hundred-mile journey. We begin just north of the town of Berwick-upon-Tweed. Already the battlelines have been drawn - the town having been grabbed by the English from Berwickshire in 1482 and never given back. From here we will head west as our tour travels backwards and forwards through history. In all, we will walk through eight centuries before we reach journey's end at the mouth of the River Sark.

Between Britain is a history book, a travelogue, a personal reminiscence and a gently prodding examination of national identity. But above all it is a celebration of a place and the people who live there.

Genres: Nonfiction, Travel, British Literature, History, Scotland, Historical

320 pages, Paperback

Published May 20, 2025

About the author

Alistair Moffat is an award winning writer, historian and former Director of the Edinburgh Festival Fringe and Director of Programmes at Scottish Television.

Moffat was educated at the University of St Andrews, graduating in 1972 with a degree in Medieval History. He is the founder of the Borders Book Festival and Co-Chairman of The Great Tapestry of Scotland.

Reviews

[Sophia · Rating 3 out of 5]

I wish this went so much further than it did

[Jim Cassidy · Rating 4 out of 5]

In this book, author Alistair Moffat takes us on a journey along the border between Scotland and England, diving into its history, ancient and modern as he goes. He weaves his was from east to west, starting in the formerly Scottish town of Berwick, before heading north to Marshall Meadows to begin following the actual line of the border as it makes its way over the hills to join the Tweed. As he goes, he slips from one side of the border to the other, allowing him to introduce us to this history of the wider border area as well as honing in on some comparatively well known sites and people of interest, as well as some of the more obscure.

The author is himself a Borderer, and in addition to the landscape and history, he explores the attitudes of the people of the area towards this line between two nations. For hundreds of years it was a difficult area to govern, far enough away from both capitals to become a law unto itself, and in many ways this attitude appears to continue, and I get the feeling many people in the area would like to be left to get on with doing things their own way, and that the respective governments should back off and leave Borderers to run things their own way.

Despite this being a tale of the authors journey along the line separating two nations, where the book is strongest is where it sticks to the history of the land, its tales of kings and battles, of Roman legions, Vikings and monks, and the authors recollections of growing up and working in and around the border.

I particularly enjoyed Moffat’s comparisons of access legislation on both sides of the border. I could sense his frustration at how restrictive it was to be met with a wall of KEEP OUT and PRIVATE signs on land where there was no reasonable cause to keep anyone out in the first place, and it was infuriating to see how much of England’s history is hidden away from the public for no reason other than someone can. Scotland’s access legislation is by no means perfect, and the misunderstanding of the term “right to roam” is probably the cause of much of the friction between access users and landowners, and I share the author’s feelings that such legislation will never be enacted in England.

Where I found the book to be weakest was where Moffat’s personal views on the politics of the day creep in. I had inklings of this early on in the book when he railed against the flying of the saltires at Lamberton Toll. I have travelled across many borders in Europe and these are usually accompanied by the flag of the nation you are entering, so I find nothing unusual about this. Where I have found it to irk people is in the area of the border between Scotland and England, particularly from the Scottish side, who see themselves more as British than Scottish and who would rather play down the fact that we are two nations joined in a partnership. In a post-Brexit world I find it bizarre for the author to churn out hoary old arguments against Scottish independence such as “border checkpoints” on minor roads, conveniently ignoring the fact that the UK operates a Common Travel Area with the EU along the border between Ireland and Northern Ireland, with over 200 border crossings between the two. In fact, here are over 300 international boundaries in the world, with countless crossing points along their lengths, yet this is often the go-to argument against there being independence for Scotland: that there would be passport controls on some secluded B road near Berwick…

By trying to protect the Union and the free movement it apparently brings, it seems to me that the Borderers are in some respects trying to play down their Scottishness. They live in the Borders, but in the modern age this old line on the map is a historical relic they would rather not highlight. By trying to be Scots with a small s, they have attempted to blur the line between two nations and have become in some respects neither fish nor fowl. This becomes very noticeable when the author bemoans the fact that visitors arriving in Scotland at Gretna are met with a wall of tartan, William Wallace and bagpipes, and an “all but dead language” as he describes it. As someone who lives in the central belt of Scotland, I don’t have any illusions about how our country is packaged for the foreign visitor. No-one is flying in to Scotland to visit a town where fly-tipping is a popular past-time, and I’m sure that the people of Newcastle or Carlisle are just as aware that the red bus fridge magnets and Tower of London snow-globes sold in their tourist shops are completely unrepresentative of their part of the country too. If the people of the Borders want people to see them as distinct part of Scotland with history and culture worth celebrating then they should shout it out – not play it down.

The book evoked my own memories as I journeyed alongside the author. I trained many times at Otterburn Training Area, it’s miles and miles of moorland was an exposed, remote and wet place to be. I recall one exercise where I met two Artillery Gunners, who appeared to have been abandoned in a lonely outpost, gazing over open, heather covered hills and moorland. “Are we in Scotland?” one asked. Not quite. It just felt like it.

By chance, I finished the last chapter of the book as I passed over the border, crossing the River Sark at 100mph on a train bound for Glasgow, gazing out over the Solway Moss. I traced the lines of the author’s final few miles to Gretna across the map, and hope to visit them at some point in the near future, if anything to see the Scots Dyke, which I thought was a fascinating creation (and is the reason the border ends on the Sark, not the Esk). Similarly I have a holiday planned next year at Coldstream, and I will be reaching for this book before I go, hoping to visit some of the places described, bringing them to life in the process.

[Katherine · Rating 2 out of 5]

I was looking forward to reading this having just walked Hadrians wall but it didn’t deliver. I put it down for a while but picked it up to finish after recently completing a couple of other books.

The book goes into great detail about some of the battles and fights through the ages that have happened around the border area so theoretically I learned a lot but there was too much of that to take in (and it’s not a subject I’m very interested in). As one who visited the area a lot when young some of the other history and detail was interesting and did resonate - Borderers being an entirely different group to the English and Scottish for example.

The map at the front was useful (albeit the font hard to read) but could have been accompanied by larger scale maps to give more context.

It also felt like the writer/walker got fed up with keeping a journal. Initially, when setting off from the East Coast, we were treated to a lot of detail but once he got to Carter Bar and we only had 1 chapter left, it skipped along rather hurriedly and I’m still not sure how he got from there to Kershope. The detail about Gretna was interesting though.

[Malcolm Schaffer · Rating 4 out of 5]

I do enjoy Alistair Moffat s writing - he combines history ,geography ,story telling and is never afraid to show himself.His walk along the border provides all of these plus a hefty dollop of politics thrown in.There is a great s cent at the end involving barbed wire which sounds just the sort of disaster I’d get into as a founding member of the clumsy people society.Just such an easy and good read

[andy noble · Rating 5 out of 5]

I loved it. The book covered for most readers the forgotten history of the English and Scottish border region. The book is so well written that I read it in a day. Part history, part autobiography, part social commentary on landownership, and with a good sense of humour thrown in. Well worth a read.

[Nina · Rating 3 out of 5]

rtc

[Corinna · Rating 2 out of 5]

I wish this focused more on the walk itself, and the actual journey.

[Abcdarian]

Liked the historical tidbits.