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A.D. 1882. 



THEE ; around whom all affections entwine, 
Whose grace, form, and truth in our spring days of old, 
First taught me the love that never grows cold, 
And, since thou allowed me to claim thee as mine, 
Hast gladden'd the heart which from youth had been thine ; 
Whose devotion and care, which that day will unfold. 
Have shed peace on my path more precious than gold, 
And ever thy love my breast shall enshrine ; 

Though cares have oppress'd thee, and suff 'ring distress'd ; 
Thy children arise, each calleth thee bless'd ; 
While twenty-five years of our summer have run, 
To me thou hast been " Paradisus-in-sun ;"* 

These Leaves of the Forest, and Lays of our life, 
I dedicate to thee, TO THEE, MY DEAE WIFE. 

January 2nd, 1882 A.D. 

(Our silver wedding day.) 

* An old and fanciful play upon the surname: " Paradisus-in-sole,' 
i. e. Park-in-sun. 

" Thou in labour our repose 

Cooling shade when noontide glows, 
Solace sweet in all our woes." 

In labore requies 
In sestu temperies 
In fletu solatium." 

Missale ad Usum insignis Ecclesics Eboracensis 
(Sabbatic post Penticostem Sequentia.) 


" Man loves the forest. To the general flame 
My breast is not a stranger. I could rove 
At morn, at noon, at eve, by lunar ray, 
In each returning season, through your shades, 
Ye revered woods ! Could visit every dell, 
Each hill, each breezy lawn, each wandering brook, 
And bid the world admire ; and when at last 
The song was closed, each magic spot again 
Could seek, and tell again of all its charms." 

Gisborne's Walks in a Forest. 


SOME of the following "Lays and Leaves" have already 
been published in the Churchman's Shilling Magazine, and 
local publications. Hitherto fugitive, such are now col- 
lected in this volume, and others, not before printed, are 
added. They represent the literary recreations of the 
author, in the midst of more important work, and do not 
profess to be any more than the title given to the book 
indicates ; viz., a few Lays sung 1 , by the writer, or by 
others, to the music of forest rustlings, or to the refrain 
of forest memories ; with Leaves some small and some 
larger, some green and some withered, gathered from 
its historical and genealogical trees. 

The General History of the forest is scarcely touched ; 
many places of interest are not even mentioned ; but few 
of the persons, and families, of influence therein have 
come within the purvieu ; and many spots, well worthy 
of a visit on account of their pastoral scenery, or their 
rugged wildness, are left unnamed : though, in passing, 
let the vale from Bluberhouses Bridge, by West House, 
toward Thruscross, be named for beauty, and Washburn 
Head above Hoodstorth for rugged wildness. All these 
matters and features are found set forth in the admirable, 


and exhaustive, History of the Forest published, but a 
few years ago, by Mr. Wm. Grainge, and to it the reader, 
who would know more of the district, is confidently 

There is yet, however, a wide and interesting field open 
for research in forest lore, to any person with the leisure, 
the opportunities, and the means, to explore it, especially 
in the direction of genealogy and family history. There 
are, the Beckwitli family of Beckwith and Clint, numerous, 
and, perhaps, the first in antiquity and forest history ; the 
Pulleine family, prolific branches of which were seated 
at Fewston, Killinghall, and Scotton, and had among its 
members two vicars of Fewston at the time of, and 
immediately after, the Reformation, an archdeacon of Col- 
chester in Queen Elizabeth's time, and an archbishop of 
Tuarn toward the close of the 17th century; the Day 
family of Men with, one of whom was rector of Topliffe 
in the last century, and, with others of his name, among 
the best- benefactors to the schools and charities of the 
district ; the Wood family, of Swinsty, descendants of the 
" de la Sales," and the " del Woods " of the 13th and 14th 
centuries, and who in the 16th and 17th centuries inter- 
married with the best families of the neighbourhood ; and 
the Gravers of Fewston, now forgotten in the forest, but 
once leading forest men, and numbering among them a 
Derbyshire vicar, and an archdeacon of Durham ; the 
Simpsons and Smiths ol Felliscliffe and Clint ; the Biltons 
of Bilton and Hampsthwaite ; and many other ; all, 
except a few leading members of each who have found 
their way into the Heralds' visitations and other records, 
awaiting the researches of local genealogists. The 
antiquarian also, has yet a field open for his investiga- 
tions, in the Druidical rocks at Almas Cliff and elsewhere ; 


in the extensive earthworks, probably British, near Nor- 
wood ; in the barrows, or burial mounds, known as 
" Pippin's Castle," and in the identification an able con- 
tribution towards which has lately been made by Mr. 
William Grainge, of the site of the Royal residence of 
the Saxon Ella, and of the place thence named Elsworth. 
And to the topographer, and more general historian, there 
are yet, comparatively unexplored, the rolls, and other 
records of the Forest Court at Knaresborough, and the 
Forest and Liberty wills, and other testamentary docu- 
ments, lately removed to Somerset House, London. 

The Lays, and scattered Leaves, which have been gleaned 
from this field by the writer, are here offered to the public, 
in hope that other workers may yet follow in the same 
track ; that to many Foresters, and others connected with 
the Forest, the perusal of these gleanings may yield some 
instruction and pleasure ; and that to strangers, into whose 
hands they may fall, they may be a means of exciting an 
interest in a district on many accounts well worthy of 
interest. And here, for the benefit of any who may visit 
those western parts of the forest, chiefly spoken of, let 
Hopper Lane Hotel be mentioned. Standing in the midst 
of the scenes described, it is truly an " Hostel " in the old 
and best sense of the word, on whose window might be 
written, as Shenstone wrote, 

" Whoe'er has travell'd life's dull round, 

Where'er his stages may have been, 
May sigh to think he still has found 
The warmest welcome at an inn." 

It is not in itself without interest. Dating back for 
more than a century, as a large posting house on a chief 
road from Lancashire to York, it has received at one time 
or other, most of the noted men of the north and west, 


many of whom seem to have taken a delight in inscribing 
their names on the glass of its windows, where they may 
yet be read.* Mr. Ward himself, the owner and host, 
belongs to an old and respected forest family, whose 
friendship the family of the writer has enjoyed, and 
valued, for over a century. 

For a considerable portion of the information in these 
"Leaves," the writer is deeply indebted to the Rev. J. 
W. Darnborough, M.A., rector of South Otterington ; for 
permission, most readily and courteously given, to search the 
Forest records at Knaresborough to the Messrs. Powell ; 
and to the Rev. Robert Collyer, D.D., of New York, for the 
plate of Fewston church, which, as the only published 
view of that House of God, will be doubly valuable if, as 
seems too probable, the church be doomed to the destruc- 
tion which has already overtaken the village. To these 
the writer here begs to make due acknowledgment, and to 
express his thanks. 

A few of the " Lays," it will be noticed, e.g., " The 
Forest Church," were written before the transformation 
of the Washburn valley by the construction of the reser- 
voirs. The writer has thought it best to give them 
unaltered, though they occasionally picture scenes, which 
now are greatly changed, or no longer exist. 

North Otterington Vicarage, 
22nd March, 1882. 

* The following inscriptions may be noted as typical of their class. 
" Good fare in this House, 1807." 

" James Black. Sept. 1848." 
The next is a very enigmatical one : 

" Cuthbert the Great bought 30,000 horns, 15th July, 1814. Witness, 
J, Parkinson." 








Extent 9; Characteristics of the District 9; Early Times 9; 
Mediaeval Days 10; Enclosure 10; Modern Days 11; Manu- 
factories 11; Eeservoirs 11; Harrogate 12; Local Celebrities 
13 ; a Forester's regard for it 13. 



Subsidy Eoll of 1379 A.D. 17; Origin of Surnames 18; Villa 
de Clint 18; Villa de Thurscross 22; Villa de Timble 24; 
Villa de Killinghall 27; Hamlet of Beckwith 28; Men of the 
Forest in 1504 A.D. 31 ; Some Chief Men in 1651 A.D. 33. 


Formation of the Forest 35 ; Wild Animals at the Time 36 ; 
Heywra, or Haverah, Park 36; Wolves 37; Wild Cattle 38 ; 
Deer 40; Deer Stealers 42 ; Robin Hood 42 ; John of Gaunt' s 
Castle 42 ; Fortress at Padside 43 ; King John arid Edward 
III. at Heywra 43 ; Extinction of the Larger Animals 43 ; 
Names Derived from Wild Animals 44; Denudation of its 
Timber 45; Sydney Smith's Account of Harrogate 45; 
Ancient Forest Trees 45 ; Forester's Song 47. 

THE HUNT: A Ballad .. 4854 




No Modern Life of St. Robert 55 ; Materials for such 56 ; His 
Parentage 56 ; His Youth. 57 ; Enters the Diaconate 57 ; Joins 
the Monks of Newminster 57 ; Becomes a Hermit with St. 
Giles near Knaresbro' 58 ; The Situation of their Cell 58 ; 
St. Eobert's Cave 59; St. Eobert at St. Hilda's 60; at Hedley 
61 ; Eeturn to St. Hilda's 62 ; Expelled 63 ; Eeturn to near 
Knaresborough, St. Eobert's Chapel 64; Vision of the Lord 
of the Castle 65 ; St. Eobert again at St. Eobert's Cave 
Building of the Chapel of St. Crux there 66; Ivo 67; 
Austerities 68; Control over Wild Beasts 68; Temptations 
70 ; Visit of King John 71 ; Disputes with the Eector 71 ; His 
own Approaching End 72 ; Death 73 ; Attempt of Monks of 
Fountains to obtain his Body 73 ; A Saint uncanonized 
74 ; Miracles at his Tomb 74 ; His Successors 75 ; His Life 
a Picture of Hermit Life 76. 


Eoman and Early Times 78; Savages by William I. 79; 
Invasion of Scots 1318 A. D. 80; Feud between the Foresters 
and Eetainers of the Archbishop of York 82; Wars of the 
Eoses Towton 84; Disturbances at Topcliffe 1489 A.D. 87; 
The Civil War 88 ; Eaid on Swinden Hall 89 ; On Otley 89 ; 
A Eegiment at Fewston 89 ; Eaid on Cragg Hall 90 ; Marston 
Fight 90; Ee treat from thence to Skipton 91. 



Origin of the Family 92 ; at Denton 93 ; First Appearance in 
the Forest 93. 

Lord Ferdinando Fairfax at Scough Hall 94 ; His Children 95 ; 
His renowned Son, Lord Thomas Fairfax 96 7. 

The Rev. Henry Fairfax and Cragg Hall 98; His Parentage and 
Marriage 989; Purchase of Cragg Hall 100; Death 101. 

Charles Fairfax, Esq. and Scough Hall 101 ; His Parentage and 
Marriage with Mary Breary 102 ; Eesidence at Menston 102 ; 
His Children Twin Sons 102 ; Anecdote of the first Lord 
Fairfax 103 ; Death 103 ; Last Family Possession in the 
Forest 104. 

SPEING : A Sonnet. ... 104 


EDWARD FAIRFAX, the Poet ... 105 122 

The question of his legitimacy 105, 106 ; Will of Sir Thomas 
Fairfax his father 107 ; Marriage 107 ; New Hall his residence 
108 ; Entries regarding his family in Fewston Eegisters 108 ; 
Bryan Fairfax's account of him 109; Testimony of writers 
109 : Editions of the Translation of Tasso, and the dedications 
111; Quotations foin Tasso 112; His other works 112; His 
Eclogues and notes on them by his son 113 ; the 4th Eclogues 
quotations 115 ; " Hermes and Lycaon" 115 121; Portion 
of a 5th Eclogue with notes thereon 121 ; Destruction of all 
memorials of the poet 122. 


Fairfax's Deemonology account of the Book 123 125; Par- 
ties bewitched 126; The women accused 126; Modus operandi 
127 129 ; Narrative of the sufferings 130137 ; The accused 
at York assizes 133 and 138 ; Cessation of the sufferings 140 ; 
Remarks on Fairfax's credulity 140, 141. 


mentioned in the Dsemonology... ... 142 144 



A.D ... 147156 

Names of men engaged in the Plot 147; Ancestry of Guy 
Fawkes 147 151 ; Guy Fawkes at Scotton, and the families 
residing there 151 154; Guy Fawkes in the armies of Spain 
154 ; Origin of the Plot 154; Guy enlisted in it 154, 155 ; Fate 
of the Conspirators 155 ; Remarks on the plot 156. 

SUMMER: A Sonnet 156 

THE FAMILY OF FRANKLAND of Bluberhouses 157 166 

The place a portion of the Forest 157 ; Alienated, and given 
to Bridlington Priory 157 ; Granted to William Frankland and 
Thomas Wood in 1562 A.D. 158 ; Outline of the Pedigree of 
the Frankland family 158 166; Owners, and probably builders, 
of Cragg Hall 162 and 165. 

OF AGNES 167 177 


A monument in Westminster Abbey 178 180 ; Parentage, 
Dr Martin Lister 180182 ; Monuments of her parents 182, 3. 



AUTUMN : A Sonnet 184 


Notes thereon ... ... ... ... 185 195 

The Forester 185; The families of, Hird 188, Fairfax 189, 
Pulleyne 193, Blesard 193 ; Agricultural Notes 190. 


Swinsty Hall in Little Timble 196, 197 ; Origin of the name 
of Wood 197, 198 ; Notices of members of the family 198, 
199; Sale of Swinsty Hall 199; Destruction of the timber 
near it 200. 



Thackeray a place name 201 ; Family named thence 202 ; 
Origin of the name 202 ; The Family at Hampsthwaite 203 ; 
Descent of the Novelist 203, 204; Birth, Education, and 
Early Life 204 ; Success and fame 204, 205 ; His family 205 ; 
Visits to Hampsthwaite 205 ; Death 206 ; Thackeray the 
writer the man 206. 



With Notes on the Pulleine, and (Joghill families, and on the 


His Parentage 211 ; Education at Willie Hardy's School 212, 
213; Hardships and Life of a Factory Boy 213; His 
home 213; Apprenticeship at Ilkley 214; A Methodist preacher 
215; Marriage: Emigrates to United States 215; Joins 
the Unitarians 215; A Home Missionary in Chicago 215; 
Pastor of Unity Church there 215 ; Fame as a preacher 215 ; 
Magnificent Church erected, largest offertory 215 ; Fire at 
Chicago and destruction of his Church 215, 216; A second 
Church built 216 ; His published works 216 ; Removal to New 
York 218 ; His reminiscences of the Old Country 218 221 ; 
A Forest Poem "Under the Snow" 221. 

A FORESTER'S RETURN: A Poem 224 226 


The family of Stubbs in the Forest 227229 ; Canon Stubbs 
born at Knaresborough 229 ; His education and preferments 
229 ; His works 230 ; Testimony to his position as a Histo- 
rian 230, 231. 

IX i 


A Poem 232 

ME. WILLIAM GEAINGE, the Historian of the Forest 


Commencement of the History of the Forest 233 ; His birth 
and early life 234, 235 ; His works 235237; Poems 237, 238. 

WINTER: A Sonnet 239 

SAEAH: APoem ... 240 

THE REV. J. M. ASHLEY, B.C.L. : A Forest Poet 244248 

Preferment to the Vicarage of Fewston 244 ; His works 244, 245 ; 
Poems : "Annie's Visit," "The Crag," "The Cloud," 245248. 

THE BUEN IN SPEING TIME: APoem ... 249 251 

In the Storm 250. 


John William Brown, a native of Otley 252 ; His love of Natu- 
ral History 253 ; His habits of observation 254 ; Extracts 
from his Diary on Entomology, Botany, &c., 256 260 ; Failing 
Health 261; Death 262. 

THE TEYST : A Forest Idyl 263276 

BOLTON PEIOEY; Its Legends and Associations 277 290 
Origin of the Priory The Boy of Egremond 278282 ; 
Domestic Affairs of the Monks 282; "The Shepherd Lord 
Clifford" and Barden Tower 283; Freaks of his son 284; 
Present condition of the Euins 286; The Lady Anne Clifford 
288 ; The White Doe of Eylestone 288 ; The Effects of Time 
and Change 289. 

THE SNOWDEOP: APoem .. 290 

THE HAREBELL : A Poem 291 

A DiEGE FOE THE VALLEY: A Poem ... 292 298 
CEAGG HALL: A Sonnet . 298 


Page 193, line 11 from the bottom (Note), for 1867 A.D., read 
1876 A.D. 


" From Wharnside Hill not far, outflows the nymble Nydd 
Through Nythersdale, along as sweetly she doth glide 

Tow'rds Knaresburg on the way 

Where that brave forest stands. 
Entitled by the town, 


'HE Royal Forest of Knaresborough, of which these 
lays are sung, and whence these leaves are 
gathered, is a range of country about twenty 
miles in length and eight in width, diversified with 
mountain and moor, rocky eminences and fertile valleys, 
and extending from Knaresborough, westward and south- 
westward, to the heather-clad hills overlooking Bolton 

In the earliest times it was a rugged and wild district, 
rich and luxuriant wood-land in its valleys and dells ; but 
its upland and exposed parts, covered with fern and 
heather and gorse and rushes, as now. 

A place, verily suitable, and sought as a refuge, for the 
superstitious of the Old British and Saxon creeds ! Within 
its bounds there remain the druidical rocks, and rock altars 
of Great Almas Cliff, Little Almas Cliff, Brandrith and 
Eoggan. While, but just beyond its margins, are those of 
Brimham on the north, Chevin and Rumbold's Moor on the 
south, and Simon's Seat on the west. 



In mediaeval days, though embracing, within its pre- 
cincts, but one or two modest castlets or Forest Lodges, 
and three parish churches (Pannal, Harnpsthwaite, and 
Fewston), it was surrounded by feudal strongholds, and 
ecclesiastical establishments, of the first magnitude. The 
Castle of Knaresborough of the Lords of the Forest, 
Spofforth of the Percies, Harewood of the Gascoigns, 
Kipley of the Ingilbys, Barden and Skipton of the Cliffords, 
Dog Park of the Vavasours, stood but just beyond its 
bounds. And so stood, also, the great abbey of Fountains, 
the priories of Bolton and Knaresborough, the nunnery of 
Arthington, the Archiepiscopal palace of Otley, and, at no 
great distance, the abbey of Kirkstall on the one side, and 
the great foundation of St. Wilfrid (Ripon) on the other. 

Even at, or very soon after, its palmiest days, as a 
Royal Forest, the lowlands and valleys seem to have been 
enclosed and cultivated ; but wide, wild, uncultivated tracts 
of great extent, remained open and unreclaimed, until near 
the end of the last century. 

In 1770 A.D., an Act of Parliament was obtained for 
enclosing the open parts of the Forest. The usual disputes, 
and the strife of competing interests of such occasions, took 
place, and gave rise to the following jeu $ esprit by an 
anonymous author, yet worth preservation. 

" Verses on the intended enclosure of the Forest." 

" The question heretofore proposed, 
Was, that the Forest be enclosed. 
It is a calculated thing, 
To serve the public and the king. 
No longer would the dismal cries, 
Be heard, for want of due supplies : 
Instead of dangerous bogs and rushes, 
Of fens and briars, whins and bushes, 
Plenty of grass and corn would spring ! 
The very fields would laugh and sing ! 
Say then, and freely speak your mind, 
And tell tne how you are inclined : 
But let nae whisper in your ear, 
Be sure as we're collected here, 
Whether the "Ayes" prevail or "Noes," 


The Act is pass'd we must enclose. 

Some doubts indeed, and seeming flaws, 

A tedious delay may cause, 

In settling bound'ries, right and wrong, 

Betwixt the multifarious throng : 

But sages, learned in the laws, 

To clear up doubts, and heal the flaws, 

Are in the self-same Act appointed, 

By Commons, Peers, and King anointed. 

Another Meeting now they call, 
Claimants appearing, one and all ; 
Counsel attend the time and place, 
To justify each client's case ; 
And others too, call'd arbitrators, 
To settle all disputed matters. 
They eat and drink from day to day, 
And joyoiis pass the time away. 
The latter sort consult, explain, 
and then adjourn, to meet again. 
At last, they leave all matters so, 
The Agents know not what to do. 
They seem indeed resolved to sell, 
But right, or wrong, they cannot tell. 

Another Meeting now they call, 
And offer terms to please 'em all. 
But lo ! How diff'rent the event ! 
Eejected all, with one consent. 
The Law, the glorious law's the thing, 
Must judge 'twixt subject and the king. 
And when for hearing, all is riper, 
Alas ! poor Forest pays the piper." 

After this enclosure, nothing* remained of the Forest, as 
a forest, except the name. 

Modern times have brought other innovations. Early in 
the century, utilizing the water power of its rivers and 
streams, manufactories of flax, and other materials, were 
erected near Bluberhouses, at Thurscross, and other places, 
only, however, to languish and pass away on the advent 
of steam power. Within the past few years the Washburn 
valley has been invaded, and taken possession of, by the 
Corporation of the town of Leeds, who have swept away 


many old land marks, and transformed the principal portion 
of the valley into a chain of reservoirs, which, for 
picturesqueness and extent, are not unworthy the name of 
mountain lakes. 

The greatest change, however, has been in the rise of one 
of its obscure hamlets into the fashionable, world-famed, 
town of Harrogate, where the healing waters of a forest 
dene, and the bracing breezes of the forest air, are sought 
by every class from almost every clime. The logical con- 
nection, between this town's attractions, and its patrons, 
was aptly expressed by the humorous writer of an episto- 
lary poem in the last generation, thus 

" It is proper, I vow, 

And, dear Simon, you know 
They would not hither repair, 

Did the people not find 

That both body and mind 
Are improv'd, by those waters and air." 

Of local " characters" and " celebrities," the Forest and 
its capital, Knaresborough from which it cannot well be 
dissevered, have had a full share : Eugene Aram, Blind 
Jack of Knaresbrough, Peter Barker the blind joiner of 
Hampsthwaite, and one whose fame is even wider, Mother 
Shipton, may be named. Innumerable chap books, and 
Baring Gould in his "Yorkshire Oddities," have duly 
chronicled their lives and doings. With regard to Mother 
Shipton ; those persons who may be at all disturbed by 
her supposed prophecies, are advised to consult the original 
edition of them, (and that not written until more than 100 
years after her death), preserved in the British Museum, 
and lately printed, in a handy form, by Mr. W. H. Har 
rison, of London. They will there see how few and 
insignificant the so called prophecies were until augmented 
by popular fancies and exaggerations. 

The feelings, with which the present writer regards " the 
Forest " and its associations, are aptly expressed, mutatis 
mutandis, by a poet and topographer of no mean power 


a century ago, Thomas Maude, Esq., born at Harewood on 
its borders, when writing of his native vale of VVharfedale. 

" Forgive me, Reader, if in mood serene, 

I deck my native banks with cheering green ; 

Bestow a smile upon the finny stream, 

My vernal pastimes, and autumnal theme, 

Point to the glades, where erst my wand' ring sight, 

First roused the waking gleams of soft delight, 

Dreams though of fairy hue, I trace the time, 

And strongly recognize the feast sublime ; 

Tling to the howling winds the murky lore, 

That aims to rob me of the precious store. 

What if, I, toyful, with ethereal ray, 
Life's passage strew to cheat the dreary way, 
Or, if in mirth's sweet bounds, I breath the gale, 
Drink at her fount, nor step the moral pale ; 
By all the order of the spheres I ween, 
On that fair ground no peccant spot is seen." 
Verbeia, or Wharfdale. A poem published in 1782 A.D. 



"How beautiful they stand, 
Those ancient churches of our native land ! 
Amid the pasture fields, and dark green woods, 
Amid the mountain clouds and solitudes ; 
By rivers broad that rush unto the sea : 

By little brooks, that with lisping sound, 
Like playful children, run by copse and lea ! 

Each in its little plot of holy ground. . 

How beautiful they stand, 
Those old grey churches of our native land ! " 

WAY in the forest, and far from the throng, 
Of the world's surging crowd, and hurry around, 
jWhere Washburn, in peace, rolls its waters along, 
And the brooklets, at play re-echo the sound, 
O'erlooking dark alder and silvery birch, 
On forest hill-side stands the forester's church. 

In thrice hallow'd ground, in beauty it stands, 
Around it most sacred memories cling ; 

From the exile, away, in his far distant land, 

It draws the heart's yearnings on light' ning's wing. 

And precious the seed laid beneath the green sod, 

'Tis reverenced by man, as hallowed to God. 


T is the house of our Father, our forefathers' church ! 

could we recall, through the long roll of years, 
Which hide from the ear and the eye's deepest search, 

The bride's happy smile, and the widow's hot tears, 
With joy's gladsome praise, and affliction's deep calls, 
Beheld, in the past, by its time-beaten walls ! 

At its sacred font, upon infant and sire 
Alike, in succession, were solemnly poured 

The baptismal water, the Divine Spirit's fire, 
With grace from on high in covenant showered, 

When to children of earth, in mercy, was given 

The birthright of sons and daughters of heaven. 

At its altar their bridal pledges were bound, 

Their vows and their loves with blessing were sealed ; 

And there, too, in the Holy Supper, they found 
To their souls their dear Saviour revealed. 

Through weal and through woe, by His hand they were led, 

With the heaven-sent bread sustained and fed. 

There, in prayer devout, oft meekly they knelt, 
And bowed, their Redeemer's name to adore ; 

With heart, as with voice, sang the praises they felt, 
Or, seated, they thought the Divine lessons o'er. 

Their faith and their prayer thus hallowed the spot, 

Shall it be by their child profaned or forgot ? 

Where the evening shadows of its chancel fall, 
They, father and son, in dust, are at rest ; 

To their ear temptation's soft voice brings no call, 
Nor are they by care, or earth's trials, oppress'd. 

Gone for aye are their sorrows, and dried their tears, 

Their murmurs are stilled, and forgotten their fears. 


grant to ine, Father, such grace in my way, 
That where'er I wander, where'er I may dwell, 

1 may live, work, and die, a victor as they, 

Then " happy the journey, for I shall be well." * 
Though my dust may be laid afar from their side, 
From its Guardian's eye no distance can hide. 

With theirs it will 'rest till God's sons are revealed, 
His kingdom of glory fulfilled in love, 

Then, however far scattered, wherever concealed, 
He'll rebuild it a temple meet for above ; 

In beauty and life, ne'er to die, 'twill arise 

From its cell upon earth, to His home in the skies. 

Till then, let the pile in piety reared, 

Where, a child, I learned in worship to bow, 

By children's children through centuries revered, 
By their sons e'er be loved and guarded as now ! 

Oh ! see that it stand, by profane foot ne'er trod, 

The church of our fathers the house of our God ! 

* A collateral ancestor of the writer, who died in 1670, A.D. directed 
the words " Felix iter a seculo ad ccelum, illic sarnis ero," to be cut on 
his tomb, still existing, though covered by the tiles, in the chancel of the 
church of Carleton in Craven. 



" Time rolls "his ceaseless course. The race of yore, 
Who danced our infancy upon their knee, 

And told our marvelling boyhood legend's store, 
Of their strange ventures happ'd by land or sea, 
How are they blotted from the things that be ? " 


HE following list of men, inhabiting the parts of 
the Forest to which the "leaves" chiefly 
relate in the 2nd year (June 1378, to June 1379) 
of King- Richard II, is, on many accounts, of very great 
interest. It is a portion of the collector's roll or list, for 
a subsidy, or voluntary poll-tax, granted to the king from 
the laity, in the wapentake of Claro, in the West Riding of 
the County of York. The roll for the whole county, taken 
from the records of the King's Exchequer, has lately been 
printed by the Yorkshire Archseological Society. 

The amount collected from each person is some 
indication of his means and position. It will be noticed 
that four pence (iiij.d), equivalent to about 3s. 4d. of our 
money, is the sum paid by the large majority; though 
several rise to (vj.d) six pence, and only four to above that 
sum, viz., John Gyott and his wife, of Beckwith, 12d. ; 
Thomas Turpin and his wife, of Killinghall, 12d. ; Adam 
Beckwith and his wife, of Clint, 2s. ; and Percyuallus 
Pensax, of Beckwith, 40d. 


The great interest of the roll, however, consists, in its 
giving the names of the inhabitants of the Forest, in the 
days of its forest glory, 500 years ago, and enabling those, 
who are acquainted with the names of the present families, 
to see how many descendants of the old inhabitants yet 
linger within its precincts, after all the changes and chances 
of five centuries. 

A second source of interest is found in the many 
valuable illustrations, which the roll affords, of the origin, 
and the manner of formation, of surnames, at a time when 
such names were coming, or had very lately come, into 
general use. 

In the foot notes to the following pages, many instances 
of these points of interest are indicated, and many others 
will be easily detected by the reader. 

The original list is in Latin, and although here translated 
(except the word " de " meaning " of ") the original 
etymology of the surnames and names of places is retained. 


(1) Richard Wilson de Clint and his wife 4d. 

William, his son ... ... ... 4d. 

John de Derby and his wife ... 4d. 

Thomas Atkynson and his wife ... 4d. 

John Wilson and his wife ... ... 4d. 

(1) The origin of those surnames which arose from designating a 
person, over and above (snr) his own Christian name, by that of his 
father, and sometimes of his mother, with the addition of "son," 
is aptly shown in many of the names in this list. Richard Wil-son, 
Thomas Atkyns-son, Adam Alice-son, &c., that is, Eichard, the son of 
Will ; Thomas, the son of Atkins ; Adam, the son of Alice. 

The origin of another class of names that of persons receiving their 
surname from the name of the place at which they resided, is illustrated 
by such as John de Beckwith, William de Rouden, Thomas de Farnhill, 
that is John of Beckwith, &c., &c. The "de" was almost invariably 
soon dropped out, and the names became John Beckwith, William 
Rowdon, Thomas Farnhill, &c. 


William del Hall and Iris wife . . . 4d. 

Adam Aliceson and his wife . . . 4d. 

William Bayok and his wife ... 4d. 

John de Bekwith and his wife . . . 4d. 

Kichard, his servant ... ... ... 4d. 

William Plenteth and his wife . . . 4cl. 

Adam de Beckwith and his wife ... ij.s. 

Thomas, his servant ... ... ... 4d. 

John, his servant ... ... ... 4d. 

John Tredegate and his wife ... 4d. 

Henry Tailliour and his wife ... 4d. 

Isolda de Riddyng 4d. 

Julia, her daughter ... ... ... 4d. 

Johanna, daughter of Thomas Nelson 4d. 

Simon Agasson and his wife . . . 4d. 

Richard Nelleson and his wife ... 4d. 

(2) William del West and his wife ... 4d. 
William Rede and his wife ... ... 4d. 

John Harebroune and his wife . . . 4d. 

William Webster and his wife . . . 4d. 

John Blome and his wife ... ... 4d. 

Robert Tilleson and his wife . . . 4d. 

John Py and his wife ... .. 4d. 

Robert de Whelehous and his wife 4d. 

John de Swanlay and his wife . . . 4d. 

John Hobson and his wife ... ... 4d. 

William Godythson and his wife ... 4d. 

John Somyer and his wife ... ... 4d. 

Henry Lawe and his wife ... ... 4d. 

William Lawson and his wife ... 4d. 

John Lawe and his wife ... ... 4d. 

Robert Lawe and his wife ... ... 4d. 

(3) Thomas de Trees 4d. 

(2) "Del " a contraction of "de la." William de la (or del.) 
West is William of the West, soon shortened to William West. 

(3) "Trees" is now an interesting Elizabethan house in the 
township of Norwood, and near to the western boundary of Haverah 
Park. It was for many generations the home of the substantial yeoman 
family of Jeffray. 


Roger Ffleccker and his wife ... 4d. 

Thomas, his son ... ... ... 4d. 

Robert Woderoue and his wife ... 4d. 

William Basseham and his wife . . . 4d. 

John, the son of Roger and his wife 4d. 

(4) John Cowhird and his wife ... ... xij.d. 

Richard Carter and his wife.. ... 4d. 

William Brennand and his wife ... 6d. 

William de Gateshened and his wife vj.d. 

(5) Johanna Lytster ... ... ... vj.d. 

Alicia Schutt 4d. 

Julia of Couton ... ... ... 4d. 

Robert Lillyng and his wife... ... 4d. 

John atte Gate ... ... ... vj.d. 

William Sergeaunt and his wife . . . 4d. 

John Gryme and his wife ... ... 4d. 

Matilda de Hirst ... ... ... vj.d. 

Alicia Rote ... ... ... ... 4d. 

William de Wattes and his wife . . . 4d. 

John Webster and his wife ... .. vj.d. 

Thomas Da we and his wife ... ... vj.d. 

Henry Hikson and his wife ... 4d. 

John Rote and his wife ... ... 4d. 

Matthew Brabaner and his wife ... vj.d. 

Richard del Hall and his wife . . . 4d. 

Adam Laycan and his wife ... ... 4d. 

(6) John Thekester and his wife ... 4d. 
Agnes de Goukthorp ... ... 4d. 

Benedict Sporrett and his wife ... 4d. 

(7) Agnes Parcour ... ... ... 4d. 

William Smert and his wife... ... 4d. 

Thomas de Ff arnhill and his wife . . . 4d. 

Thomas Lax and his wife ... ... 4d. 

(4) Cowhird, from the occupation of a cow-herd ; now contracted 
to Coward. 

(5) " Lytster," a dyer ; now Lister. 

(6) Thekester, probably "thek" or "thack" i.e., thatch, and 
"ster" meaning "the thatcher." 

(7) Parcour. The park keeper ; now Parker. 


Thomas Scargill and his wife . . . 4d. 

Thomas del Hall and his wife . . . 4d. 

Thomas Been and his wife ... .. 4d. 

William de Roudon and his wife ... 4d. 

(8) Richard Polayn and his wife ... 4d. 
Robert Sporrett and his wife . . . 4d. 
Thomas Batlyng and his wife ... 4d. 
Thomas Parcour and his wife . . . 4d. 
William Nanson and his wife . . . 4d. 
John Rob ynson and his wife ... 4d. 
John de Kirkeby and his wife ... 4d. 

(9) Agnes Nelledoghter .,. .. ... 4d. 

John Loucok and his wife ... ... 4d. 

John de Wattes and his wife . . . 4d. 

William Waller and his wife ... 4d. 

William de Ffarnhill and his wife ... 4d. 

Thomas de Mallum and his wife . . . 4d. 

Thomas Wright and his wife ... vj.d. 

John Caluehird and his wife ... 4d. 

Alexander del Cote and his wife ... 4d. 

William Gryme and his wife . . . 4d. 

John Hanson and his wife . . ... 4d. 

Richard Maundby and his wife . . . 4d. 

Thomas Nelleson and his wife ... 4d. 

(10) William Stubbe and his wife... ... 4d. 

(8) "Richard Polayn," the same as Pullein, Pulleyne, &c. This 
very old, numerous, and influential, forest family is said to have 
received the name from " Pullus," a colt, or young horse, the early 
ancestors having had charge of the Royal Stud kept in the Forest. 
The crest given in Glover's visitation, as that of the Scotton branch of 
the family, is. ' A colt's head erased sable, bridled or." The name has 
also been said to be of Welsh origin, viz., Ap Ullin, i.e , the son of 

(9) " Nelle-doughter," curious as showing the use of the word 
"daughter" in a similar manner to that of "son," the daughter of 
Nolle, as Nelleson was the son of Nelle. 

(10) William Stubbe, that is, " Stob " or " Stub, " the root end or 
stump of a bush or tree. This is an ancestor, at this early date, in the 
forest, of its most illustrious son in the present century, the Rev. 
William Stubbs, D.D., Regius Professor of Modern History in Oxford, 
and Canon of St. Paul's, 


(11) William Lely and his wife 4d. 

Robert Batelying (?) and his wife ... 4d. 

Henry of Wyndill and his wife ... 4d. 

Richard de Ffarnhill and his wife ... 4d. 

John Alaynson and his wife... ... 4d. 

John Scayff ... ... ... ... 4d. 

Robert Nanson and his wife ... 4d. 

Robert Horner and his wife ... 4d. 

William Schutt and his wife ... 4d. 

William Ingelsant and his wife ... 4d. 

(12) John de Fellesclyff and his wife ... 4d. 
John Ingelsant ... ... ... 4d. 

Thomas Ingelsant and his wife ... 4d. 

Robert Brennand and his wife ... 4d. 

Henry del More and his wife . . . 4d. 

Richard Yong and his wife ... ... 4d. 

William Yong and his wife ... ... 4d. 

Agnes de Derlay 4d. 

Thomas de Raghton and his wife (Cissor) vj.d. 

Thomas de Salmon and his wife . . . 4d. 
William, son of Richard Nelleson (Smyth)vj.d. 


John de Burley and his wife ... 4d. 

William Inglesant and his wife . . . 4d. 

Richard de Dowes and his wife ... 4d. 

Geoffrey, the son of JohnMenwith... 4d. 

Robert Blaunche and his wife ... 4d. 

William Syre and his wife ... ... 4d. 

William Tumour and his wife ... vj.d. 

Benedict Dikson and his wife ... 4d. 

William, son of Robert Menwith ... 4d. 

Thomas Carter ... ... ... 4d. 

(11) "Lely," probably from the village of "Leathley" locally 
pronounced, still "Lely." 

(12) Felliscliffe, a hamlet injHampsthwaite, 


(1) Alicia Arkill 4d. 

John de Heghlay and his wife ... 4d. 

Thomas de Heghlay and his wife .. 4d. 

Kichard Souter and his wife . . . 4d. 

Richard Ffleccher and his wife ... 4d. 

Alicia de Wyndeslay ... ... 4d. 

Robert, her son ... ... ... 4d. 

John de Lethom and his wife ... 4d. 

(2) William de Thakwra and his wife . . . 4d. 
John de Thakwra ... ... ... 4d. 

John Luff ... ... ... ... 4d. 

Thomas de Men with... ... ... 4d. 

Thomas Dikson ... ... ... 4d. 

John de Skreuyngham ... ... 4d. 

(3) Richard Smythson ... ... ... 4d. 

Henry de Slyngesby and his wife ... 4d. 

Thomas deCrauen ... ... ... 4d. 

John Lemyng and his wife ... ... 4d. 

Adam de Thornthwayt ... ... 4d. 

Henry Watteson ... ... ... 4d. 

John de Tesedale 4d. 

John Pullayn and his wife ... ... 4d. 

(4) Elias de Morehous and his wife ... 4d. 
Thomas Dalay and his wife ... ... 4d. 

(5) Richard Schiphird and his wife ... 4d. 
John de Thurescroft... 4d. 

(1) The eminent Saxon thane who owned Clint and part of Hilton 
in the time of the Confessor was named Archil; Alice Arkill was 
probably a descendent. 

(2) " De Thackwra, ' ' Thackura, or Thackeray, was a homestead and 
rivulet, on the south bank of the Washburn, between Pewston and 
Bluberhouse. It probably means the " thatch mere." Dropping the 
"de" we get the name, made so world-wide by one of its illustrious 
bearers, William Makepeace Thackeray. 

(3) Smythson afterwards spelt "Smithson," a well-known, and 
at one time wealthy family. 

(4) Elias of the "More," or "Moor-house." A respected name 
still left ; Moorhouse. 

(5) "Schiphird" i.e. sheep herd. The "ship " or >( skip" form 
of the word is yet found in the name of Skipton, 


(6) Thomas del Holme and his wife ... 4d. 
John Bates and his wife ... ... 4d. 

John Adarnson ... ... ... 4d. 

Richard del Marche ... ... ... 4d. 

(7) John Tymble and his wife ... ... 4d. 

John de Kirkeby and his wife . . . 4d. 

John de Marche and his wife ... 4d. 

Adam Willeson ... ... ... 4d. 

John Ffleccher and his wife . . . 4d. 

Richard de Slyngesby and his wife... 4d. 

John de Ing-eland and his wife 4d. 


(1) Richard atte Garthend ... ... 4d. 

(2) John de Studfold 4d. 

Richard Gyll 4d. 

John Vescy 4d. 

(3) John Spynk 4d. 

John Couper ... ... ... ... 4d. 

John de Poterton ... ... ... 4d. 

Alicia Cragwyf ... ... ... 4d= 

Alicia Brathwayt ... ... ... 4d. 

John de lies, junior ... ... ... 4d. 

(4) John de Hardolfsty 4d. 

Adam Schephird ... ... ... 4d. 

(4) Stephen de Hardolfsty 4d. 

(6) " Del Holme," i.e. of the holm or flat land by the water. The 
name Holmes is yet common. 

(7) "John Tymble," a place-name with the "de" already 
dropped. Bobertus Timbril did homage to the Archbishop of York at 
Otley for land in Timbild, in 1298 A.D. John de Tymble did the same in 
1315 A.D. Surtees Society's, Vol. 49. 

(1) Richard at the garth end. The name possibly lingers in that 
of the family of " Garth." 

(2) John of the stud-fold. 

(3) There is still the name of Spinks-burn : a brook and also 
hamlet, near Pewston. 

(4) Hardofsty, now Hardisty, and Hardisty Hill. The family 
named from this place is still numerous. 


John de Suthill 4d. 

(5) Isabella Polayn 4d. 

John, her servant ... ... ... 4d. 

Agnes, her servant ... ... 4d. 

(7) Thomas de Bestan 4d. 

John Tailiour ... ... ... 4d. 

(8) Thomas de Wyndoghs 4d. 

Henry, his son ... ... ... 4d. 

Thomas Gybson ... ... ... 4d. 

Thomas de Plumland ... ... 4d. 

John, the son of Roger ... ... 4d. 

Richard Tailiour ... ... ... 4d. 

(9) Emma Prest woman ... ... 4d. 

Agnes Webster ... ... ... 4d. 

John Webster, (Textor) ... ... vj.d. 

Roger de Rypon ... ... ... 4d. 

(10) Robert Grauer 4d. 

Johanna Vickerwoman ... ... 4d. 

(11) William Vickerman ... ... 4d. 

Robert atte Brigg ... ... ... 4d. 

William Yong ... ... ... 4d. 

John Wright ... ... ... 4d. 

(5) Polayn, the same as Pulleine ; shewing this wide-spread family 
at Fewston at this early date, and in the position of employing two 

(7) " de Bestan." " Bestham " or " Beestan," the home of the wild 
beasts, is a name given in Doomsday Book to a place of sorne'importance 
at that time. It is frequently mentioned afterwards up to one hundred 
and fifty years ago, when it appears as " Beeston Leighs, " and 
" Beeston Leas " in old documents in the possession of the writer. The 
identification of the place is now difficult. It was certainly in that part 
of the valley of the Washburn, which lies between Cragg Hall and the 
village of Fewston. 

(8) " de Wyndough," now Wydrah probably. 

(9) Probably servant in the house of "the priest;" compare 
" Priestman." 

(10) " Eoberfc Graur or Graver." The family of Graver was, up to 
the middle of the 17th century, one of the principal families in Fewston. 
The name has now altogether disappeared. 

(11) " Vickerman" and " Vickerwoman," probably the man servant 
and woman servant of the Vicar. 



(12) William Ketilsyng 4d. 

(13) Eoger Wright .. 4d. 

(13) John Wrightson 4d. 

(13) Elena Wrightwyf 4d. 

(14) William de Megill 4d. 

Robert Whyteside ... ... 4d. 

(15) Thomas de Bland ... 4d. 

Adam, son of Hugo ... ... ... 4d. 

Roger Hobson ... ... ... 4d. 

William Brouneherd ... ... 4d. 

Henry Grauer ... ... ... 4d. 

Alicia Hobeler ... ... ... 4d. 

AVymerk de Bland 4d. 

John de Goukthorp 4d. 

Robert Milner 4d. 

John Tayte 4d. 

(16) Robert de Brame 4d. 

Alicia de Bekwyth ... ... ... 4d. 

Robert Goukeman ... ... . . 4d. 

William de Rypon ... ... ... 4d. 

John de Batheby 4d. 

Thomas de Trees ... ... ... 4d. 

John Isakson... ... ... ... 4d. 

John Rede 4d. 

(17) Robert Ayredy 4d. 

(18) John Schorthose ... ... ... 4d. 

John de lies, senior ... ... ... 4d. 

(12) "Ketilsyng," that is Ketel's (a Saxon Thane) "ing" or 
meadow Now Kettlesing. 

(13) " Wright." John, Wright's son ; Ellen, Wright's wife. 

(14) Megill : A hamlet in Fewston township. 

(15) " Bland Hill " is yet a hamlet in Norwood township. 

(16) " de Brame." Brame, Braham, Brane, is an ancient place 
mentioned in Domesday Book) in the township of Plumpton. There 
is also "Brame Lane" in Norwood township. 

(17) " Ayredy," probably a " bye " or ' nickname," Ay '-ready 
always on the alert or ready. 

(18) "Schorthose," i.e , "short stocking" or hose; another 


(19) Robert de Gyll 4d. 

John Wayne man ... ... ... 4d. 

John Ryder ... ... ... ... 4d. 

(20) Margaret Webster (Textrix) ... vj.d. 

John Patefyn ... ... ... 4d. 

John de March ... ... ... 4d. 

(21) Thomas de Holyns 4d. 

(22) William de Thakwra 4d. 

Robert de Heref eld ... ... ... 4d. 

(23) William de Bramley 4d. 


John Rudd ... ... ... ... 4d. 

(1) John Schutt and his wife ... ... 4d. 

John Boiler and his wife ... ... 4d. 

William Rutt 4d. 

John Prudd and his wife ... ... 4d. 

Robert, son of Thomas, and his wife 4d. 
Thomas de Stockeld... ... ... 4d. 

Thomas Turpyn and his wife ... xij.d. 

William Turpyn and his wife ... 4d. 

Robert, son of Thomas Turpyn ... 4d. 
Richard de Bekwith and his wife ... 4d. 
John, son of Ade Tailliour and his wife 4d. 

John Milner and his wife ,.. ... vj.d 

John de Stockeld and his wife . . . 4d. 

John Wright ... ... ... vj.d. 

(19) "de Gyll," "The Gill" emphatic, Gill Bottom, is, or was, 
a hamlet in Norwood. 

(20) " Webster," a plain instance of a trade-name : A weaver. 

(21) " Holyns," i.e., "Hollins," a place in the parish of Hamps- 

(22) See Ante. 

(23) " de Bramley," i.e., of the "Bram" or "Brame" field. The 
de being dropped, it is now the well-known forest name of Bramley. 

(1) A curious name still common about Harrogate, 


(2) Robert Fflesshewer and his wife ... 4d. 

Robert Edeson 4d. 

Robert de Clifton and his wife ... 4d. 

William Ffuke and his wife... ... 4d. 

William Malson and his wife ... 4d. 

Johanna de Drewesogh ... ... 4d. 

Alicia Turpyn ... ... ... 4d. 

William, sou of William ... ... 4d. 

Robert, his son ... ... ... 4d. 

John Cortman and his wife ... ... 4d. 

Thomas Lambe and his wife . . . 4d. 

John Lambe and his wife ... ... 4d. 

Robert Grayne ... ... ... 4d. 

Robert de Lonesdall... ... ... 4d. 

Margaret West ... ... ... 4d. 

Adam del Hill and his wife 4d. 

William Yong and his wife ... ... 4d. 

Beatrice de Hill ... ... ... 4d. 

Walter, her servant ... ... ... 4d. 

William de Corby ... ... ... 4d. 

John de Corby, senior . . ... 4d. 

John de Corby, junior ... ... 4d. 

John Baychour (carpenter) ... ... vj.d. 

Beatrice Turpyn ... ... ... 4d. 

Julia Tailliour 4d. 


(1) Benedict de Skelwra ... ... 4d. 

John, his servant ... ... ... 4d. 

Richard de Skelwra and his wife . . . 4d- 

Emma, his daughter ... ... 4d. 

Robert de Skelwra and his wife 4d. 

(2) "Ffleshewer," probably "Flesh cutter "or "butcher;" but 
more probably "fleche" (French) an arrow, and " Flech-hewer," an 
arrow cutter ; now Fletcher and Flesher. 

(1) " de Skelwra," i.e., of the " mere," or perhaps, "island," on 
the Skell. 


(2) William Ffoloufast and his wife ... 4d. 

Guditha Ffoloufast 4d. 

Matilda de Whetelay 4d. 

Enota Lainbe... ... ... ... 4d 

Benedict, her son ... ... ... 4d. 

(3) John de Vsburn and his wife ... 4d. 
John de Hathrusty and his wife . . . 4d. 
Robert Douff and his wife ... ... 4d. 

Benedict Wilson and his wife . . . 4d. 

Agnes, his daughter... ... ... 4d. 

Richard de Clapham and his wife ... 4d. 

John de Beckwith and his wife ... 4d. 

William de Scalwra and his wife . . . 4d. 

William Anny . . . (?) and his wife 4d. 

Robert Atte (?)... and his wife 4d. 

John del Gyll 4d. 

Robert Alayn and his wife ... ... 4d. 

John de Neusom and his wife ... 4d. 

John Nelson ... ... ... ... 4d. 

William Scayff and his wife ... 4d. 

William de Mosse and his wife . . . 4d. 

Alicia, his daughter ... ... ... 4d. 

Walter Hathrusty ... ... ... 4d. 

John del Hill and his wife ... ... 4d. 

Galfrid Mosse and his wife ... ... 4d. 

Adam Rute and his wife ... ... 4d. 

Geoffrey, his son ... ... ... 4d. 

John de Lethelay and his wife . . . 4d. 

Matilda Mareschall 4d. 

Agnes Vnderbank ... ... ... 4d. 

Adam Chilray and his wife ... ... 4d. 

Richard de Chilray and his wife . . . 4d. 

Benedict Scott and his wife... ... 4d. 

Geoffrey, his son ... ... ... 4d. 

Richard del Brote and his wife ... 4d. 

(2) " Folio wfast," possibly a nickname: or it maybe " de Folli- 
foot," the village of that name. 

(3) " de Vsburn," i.e., of Ouseburn. 


William de Merston and his wife ... 4d. 

John de Brocton and his wife . . . 4d. 

John de Hoton and his wife ... 4d. 

John Robynson ... ... ... 4d. 

Richard Johnman and his wife ... 4d. 

Geoffrey Johnson and his wife ... 4d. 

Elena, who had been wife of John de Mos 4d. 

Robert de Mos, junior ... ... 4d. 

Adam Ffox and his wife ... ... 4d. 

John Ffox and his wife ... ... 4d. 

John Colyer and his wife ... ... 4d. 

Robert Breuster and his wife . . . 4d. 

Alicia de Staueley ... ... ... 4d. 

Robert de Mos and his wife . . . 4d. 

Thomas Hudson and his wife . . . 4d. 

John Benbarn and his wife ... ... 4d. 

John Hudson and his wife ... ... 4d. 

Alicia de Been ... ... ... 4d. 

William de Bek and his wife ... 4d. 

Richard de Swynton ... ... 4d. 

Roger de Bepedale and his wife ... 4d. 

William del Wode and his wife ... 4d. 

Robert Jeppeson ... ... ... 4d. 

Johanna, servant ... ... ... 4d. 

Robert Thompson ( YVebster)and his wife vj.d. 

John Webster ... ... ... vj.d. 

William Pensax and his wife ... 4d. 

John of Pensax ... ... ... 4d. 

(4) Richard de Ffolyf ay t 4d. 

Adam Syrnson ... ... ... 4d. 

Agnes Bynnyng ... ... ... 4d. 

Richard Milneson and his wife ... 4d. 

(5) Percyuallus Pensax ... ... ... xl.d. 

William, his son ... ... ... 4d. 

(4) " de Folyfayt," of Follifoot, near Spofforth. 

(5) Percyuallus Pensax. This contribution to the tax, 40d., is 
equivalent to 33s. 4d. our money and represents the rank of esquire or 


William Doegeson and his wife ... 4d. 

John de Ergham ... ... ... 4d. 

Robert Gybson and his wife . . . 4d. 

William, son of William and his wife 4d. 

John Gyot (Faber) and his wife ... xij.d. 

Matilda de Bekwith 4d. 

William del Bank 4d. 

Thomas Hudson and his wife . . . 4d. 

Richard de Merston and his wife . . . 4d. 

Richard Wilkes 4d. 

Richard del Bek and his wife ... 4d. 

Benedict Gilleroth and his wife . . . 4d. 

John Derlof and his wife . . ... 4d. 

William Legett and his wife ... 4d. 


In a law suit in 104 A.D., by which it was sought to 
eject Sir Robert Plumpton, the Master Forester, from his 
estates in the neighbourhood, the following men bore 
witness in his behalf. They may be taken as the leading 
men, in the forest and neighbourhood, at that time. With 
the exception of about the first twelve names, which are 
those of knights and gentlemen in the vicinity, nearly all 
are easily recognised as those of forest families some of 
whom had their representatives in the foregoing list of 
1378 A.D., and many have still their representatives at 
the present day. 

William Gascoigne, Knight. 

Christopher Ward ,, 

Henry Vavasor Esquire. 

Thomas Pigot ,, 

Henry Ughtred ,, 

Thomas Fairfax ,, 

Richard Maulevery ,, 

Richard Kyghley 


Nicholas Gasgoigue Esquire. 

Robert Chylton 

Thomas Ratcliffe 

Walter Baylton ,, 

Thomas Nawdon ,, 

Walter Woode 
William Lindley Gentleman. 

Richard Wode ,, 

Launcelot Wode ,, 

Percival Lindley 

George Oglesthorpe ,, 

Edmund Rich worth ,, 

Robert Oglesthorpe ,, 

Thomas Knaresborough ,, 

William Aldborough ,, 

Robert Knaresborough ,, 

William Scargill ,, 

Raufe Moure ,, 

John Douning 

William Scargill, yonger ,, 
William Dickenson Yeoman. 

Thomas Saxton. 

Thomas Wood ,, 

John Graver 

Thomas Dickinson ,, 

John Hardistie 

William Payer (?) Paver 

William Beshe ,, 

Robert Dickinson ,, 

Nicholas Atherton ,, 

Thos. Dickinson 

Roger Dickinson ,, 

John Beckwith 

Robert Gelsthorpe ,, 

William Beaston ,, 

John Graver, yonger 

Stephen Hardistie 
Raufe Stanfield 


Stephen Gyll Gentleman. 

Robt. Richardson ,, 
Myles Gyll 

Myles Wood 

Robt. Dickinson ,, 

John Gefray ,, 

John Pullaine ,, 

Thomas Kendell ,, 

Stephen Beaston ,, 

John Fairborne ,, 

James Wod ,, 

Percival Whitehead 

Thomas Bradebent ,, 

William Robinson ,, 

John Exelby ,, 

Robt. Wayde ,, 

James Holynaghe ,, 

James Helme ,, 

John Scaife ,, 

Thos. Bayldon ,, 

Edmund Mydlebroke ,, 

Richard Barker ,, 

Henry Readshaw ,, 
Will : Shutley 

John Swale ,, 

Robt. Folyfote 

Thomas Kyghly ,, 

Richard Coundall ,, 
and others. 

One hundred and fifty years later, viz., in 1651, A.D., a 
project was started by the principal inhabitants of the 
Forest to purchase the manor, and lordship, thereof, from 
the Duchy of Lancaster. The particulars are given by 
Grainge. Although the project came to nothing, the fol- 
lowing list, of the twenty-five forest men elected by the 
others to represent them in the transaction, enables us to 
see who were some of the leading men at that period, 


and to compare their names with those on earlier lists. 
They were 

Thomas Stockdale, Esquire Proposed for Trustee. 

Robert Atkinson ,, 

John Burton 

William Hardistie 

Richard Roundell To be Feofees. 

Thomas Wescoe 

Henry Clint 

Arthur Burton ,, 

William Burton 

Robert Atkinson ,, 

William Mann ,, 

Francis Day ,, 

Leonard Atkinson 

Henry Robinson ,, 

Thomas Skayfe ,, 

Marmaduke Bramley ,, 

Stephen Gill ,, 

Samuel Midgley 

George Ward 

John Matthews ,, 

George Spence 

Anthony Pulleine 

Thomas Simpson ,, 

John Raynowdes ,, 

Arthur Hardistie 
These lists of their forefathers, 500, 380, and 230 years 
ago, will be scanned with interest by foresters to-day ; and 

they will recognise many a name still honoured among 
them, and many of which it is true " the place that once 
knew them, knows them no more." 



" But see ye not yon fallow deer, 
From their ferny covert peer, 

Boused with the blush of dawn ? 
The meek does mincing as they tread, 
The stags, with gallant antlers spread, 
Stalking a-field/with lordly head ; 
They cross the dewy upland near, 
With watchful eye, and wakeful ear, 

Snuffng the breath of morn ! " 


the days of our Saxon and Danish forefathers, 
the wide tract of country extending from below 
Knaresborough, on the east, to 

" Eoggan's heath-clad brow " 

on the wild moors, above Bolton Abbey, on the west, and 
from the Wharf, and the Washburn, on the south, to the 
Nidd on the north, was owned by two Saxon noblemen, 
Gamelbar and Gospatric. 

At the time when Doomsday survey was completed, 
about 1086 A.D., these lords of the soil had been dispos- 
sessed by the Norman William; and he, and two of his 
foreign followers, Gilbert Tyson, and William de Perci, 


(founder, at Spofforth, of that noble family in England), 
were the new lords of the district. On the forfeiture, in 
the following reign, of Tyson's fee to the Crown, nearly 
the whole of what is now the forest, came again into the 
royal hands. In all probability it was in this (Rufus's) 
reign, or in that of his successor, Henry I., that the lands 
were "afforested," and became, henceforth, the Royal 
Forest of Knaresborough. 

The wild^l animals then existing, and numerous, in the 
district were, the wolf, wild boar, wild cattle, (which 
Whitaker says were then called Oryx, and identical with 
the Aurochs or wild bulls of Lithuania), deer or stag, roe- 
buck, hare, fox, badger, beaver, polecat or foumart, (foul 
marten), and the smaller animals still existing. 

For the better protection of the animals, and especially 
of the deer, and for the convenience of chase, it was not 
unusual to form within the extensive forests of Norman 
and Plantagenet times, enclosures or parks. The fences 
or hedges for these were formed of cleft pales of oak. 

This appears to have been done, at a most suitable spot, 
in the Forest of Knaresborough, soon after its formation. 
The enclosure, or hedged portion, of the forest was called 
" Heywra," from liaie or " hey" a hedge (Norman French) 
and "wra" or "roe." Heywra would thus mean the 
enclosure, or park, of the deer or roe. Now it is Haverah. 

This park, situated some six miles to the west of Knares- 
borough, was reached from thence by a road, or "gait," 
or "gate," across the unenclosed forest. From this cir- 
cumstance we receive the name " Heywra-gate," i.e., the 
pathway to " Heywra." The word has been so trans- 
formed, that it is scarcely recognizable, and certainly has 
lost some traces of its significant origin, in the world- wide 
name of Harrogate. 

The mention, found in books and documents, of the wild 
animals of this forest, is not frequent, but sufficient to 
indicate their presence through several centuries. 

In the beginning of the 13th century, St. Robert of 
Knaresborough (b. 1160 A.D., d. 1218 A.D.), was inhabiting 


his hermit's cell near that town, and several of his miracles, 
or reputed miracles, were wrought in connection with the 
wild animals of the forest. 

Wolves are alluded to in two passages, in an old metrical 
life (written about 1400 A.D.) of the Saint. 

William de Stuteville, to whom the king had granted the 
lordship of Knaresborough and its forest, on one occasion, 
discovering the hut of the Saint erected in his domains 
without his permission, swore 

" Dicens domum ut deleret 
In spelunca ut speret, 
Feras ferre ac hac feret 

Latet in latibulo. t 

Tune Kobertus hie auditis, 
Ait autem satis scitis 
Non movebit me invitis 
Lupus de hoc lapide." 

Translated thus : 

" Saying he would his house destroy, 
Wait in a cave and him annoy ; 
Wolves he'd bring and them employ 
Out from his hiding place. 

Then our Bobert, on this hearing, 
Well you know, says he, nought fearing, 
Hence no wolf, God-right revering, 
Shall ever me displace." 

The other passage, alluding to the presence of these 
animals in the neighbourhood, is describing the lamentation 
which took place on the death of St. Robert : 

" When the news was further spread, 
Stayed the sad crowd with their dead ; 
Weeping sore, in forest dread, 

Was made by thousands many. 
Crowds are round with cowl and hood, 
Poor, and powerful, and good, 
Him to mourn in sorrowing mood, 
Maids, husbands, widows seek. 


' Who from Wolves our lov'd homes freed ? 
Who for his own did intercede ? 
Who with words our souls did feed ? ' 
Thus grieved they ever speak." 

Rewards were paid by the monks of Bolton Priory, as 
appears by their books and whose territory adjoined the 
forest on the west for the destruction of wolves. One 
was paid for, as slain, in the year 1306 A. I). 

Among the shields of arms, at one time, existing in 
Plumpton Hall, was one bearing, " a fess between three 
wolves' heads, erased, gules." The Plumptons were Chief 
Foresters for several generations, and these were, most 
probably, the suggestive arms of that officer. Further 
northwards in the county of Durham in the time of 
Bishop Geoffrey Flambard, who died in 1128 A.D., wolves 
must have been exceeding numerous, for Laurence of 
Durham, who wrote about 1150 A.D., mentions that in a 
single winter 500 foals, out of 1600 belonging to the 
Bishop, in that county, were slain by them. (Surtees' 
Society, vol. 70, p. 62). 

In the " Life of St. Robert " there is a very early 
mention of the Wild Cattle of the Forest. 

On one occasion the hermit was in want of a cow " for 
the needs of his poore." He hied him to " the Earl " 
the lord of the forest at that period and asked the 
bestowal of one. A wild one of the forest was granted, 
so wild, and untameable, that no one durst approach her. 
Robert, however, put "a band" round her neck, and led 
her home like a lamb. 

" Gave the Earl thereon to Robert, 
One fierce wild one in the desert, 
Her he brought and nought was hurt, 

She gentle as she could be. 
Home he led her, the said peers 
Were astonished, eyes and ears, 
Minds were moved with sudden fears 
As awed as they should be." 

In an old English metrical life of the Saint the event is 
thus described ; 


" Quomodo vaccam domavit." 

" Off a myracle wylle I melle, 
That I trow be trew and lele, 
Of Sayntt Robertt ; anes, as I rede, 
Off a cow lie had nede, 
For hys pormen in his place ; 
Tharefor to the Erll fioberd gayes, 
And for a cow he coin and craved. 
He graunte hym ane that wytles raned ; 
He bad hym to hys forest fare, 
' And syke a cowe tak the thare, 
I halde hyr wylde, maik thou hyr tame.' 
Robert rayked and thider yode, 
And faud this cowe wyttles and wode ; 
Styll she stode, naythinge stirrand ; 
Koberd arest hyr in a band, 
And hanie wyth hyr full fast he hyed ; 
Marvayle them thoght that stood besyde. 
Byrde and best all bowed hym tyll, 
Ever to wyrke after hys wyll." 

The late Rev. John Storer, in his " History of the Wild 
Cattle of Great Britain, remarks on this narrative: " I 
have given this account in full because I think it affords 
the strongest proof of the existence of wild cattle in the 
forest of Knaresborough at a very early period .... 
This writer (of the life of St. Robert) about the year 
1400 A.D., relating events which took place about the 
year 1200 A.D., makes ' the fierce wild cow,' supposed to 
be utterly irreclaimable, ranging through ' the desert,' 
according to one version of the story, and in ' the forest ' 
according to another, a principal actor in the narrative. 
I feel sure that the narrator was quite aware that such 
cattle existed in the times of which he wrote, and in all 
probability, in the age in which he himself lived, and that 
those for whose benefit he wrote knew this full well. If 
this had not been the case, his narrative would have been 
destitute of the first elements of credibility; and knowing 
as we do, what the forest breed was on all sides, we may 
safely assume that this wild cow was of the same descrip- 
tion and colour also ; for as the wild cattle were always 


alike in that respect, ancient writers seldom thought it 
necessary to mention that particular." 

The colour alluded to was white, with black or red 
noses, red inside the ears, and either hornless, or horns 
tipped with black. The story of Robert and the wild cow 
was once so popular that a picture of the scene, in stained 
glass, was set up in Knaresborough Church so late as the 
year 1473 A.D. 

The wild bulls were, as is well known, the most for- 
midable among wild animals, and the most dangerous in 
the chase. Scott describes them 

" Through the huge oaks of Evandale, 
Whose limbs a thousand years have worn, 

What sullen roar comes down the gale, 
And drowns the hunter's pealing horn ? 

Mightiest of all the beasts of chase, 

That roam in woody Caledon, 
Crashing the forest in his race, 

The mountain bull comes thundering on. 

Fierce on the hunter's quivered band, 

He rolls his eyes of swarthy glow, 
Spurns, with black hoof and horn, the sand, 

And tosses high his mane of snow. 

Aimed well, the chieftain's lance has flown ; 

Struggling in blood the savage lies ; 
His roar is sunk in hollow groan 

Sound, merry huntsman ! sound the pryse !* 

But to proceed. The Stags of the forest were a source 
of great annoyance at one tima to St. Robert- They 
broke through his hedges, intruded among his corn, and 
ate or trod down much of it. The saint informed the 
earl of this. His reply was, " I give thee full permission, 
Robert, to shut them up in thy barn until thou hast 
received full restitution for thy losses." Robert took a 
switch, and drove the intruders, like lambs, into his barn, 
and then went and told the owner wjiat he had done. 
This being more than the earl had bargained for, he with- 

* A note blown at the death, 


drew his gift, but bestowed three of them on Saint 
Robert if he would use them instead of oxen to plough 
his land. Robert took them, yoked them, and their 
docility in the work was the admiration of all. 

At a much later date than that of St. Robert, viz , in 
1428 A.D., an enquiry was held at Ripley, to obtain proof 
that William, son of Thomas Ingleby, of that place, was 
of the age of 21 years, on the 8th day of June in that 
year. William Beckwith deposed that he remembered the 
date enquired into " because the day before the birth of 
the said William Ingleby, he, the said William Beckwith, 
was sauntering alone in the Forest of Knaresborough, 
when he slew there a certain great stay, and afterwards 
conveyed it to Thomas and Alianore Ingleby, the parents 
of the said William." 

And again in a similar proof of the age of John Ingleby, 
in 1455 A.D., born on the festival of the Translation of 
St. Thomas, 1433 A.D., son of William Ingleby, deceased; 
Robert Apilton, aged 60 years, stated that he recollected 
the day of the birth of the said John, " because he was 
walking from the village of Ripley to the village of 
Hampsthwaite on that festival, and by the way, in the 
wood called Harlow Wood, he killed a fallow deer, and 
carried the same to the house of John Pullaine." 

About the same time, in 1439 A.D., when Sir William 
Plumpton was master forester, there were one hundred 
and sixty head of wild deer in the park at Heywra. 

Some forty years later, viz., in 1484 A.D., the following- 
letter was written, by the Earl of Northumberland, to Sir 
Robert Plumpton, then master forester : 

" Right hartely beloved cousin, I commend me unto you, and 
desire and pray you to caus a bucke of season to be taken, within 
the forest of Knaresborough under your rule, and to be delivered 
unto this bearer, to the behaulfe of the mawer (Mayor) of the 
Cyte of Yorke and his bredren, and this my writting shal be your 
warrant. * * * * Written in my manor at Lekinfield, the 
xxviii. day of Juyn. 

Yor Cousin, 



We hope the "Mawer of the Cyte of Yorke and his 
bredren " enjoyed their venison from Knaresborough 

It is to be feared that not seldom in those lawless 
days, in spite of chief forester, and warden, and verderer, 
and bedell, " a bucke of season," or out of season, was 
taken without lordly warrant. 

Deer-stealers, and outlaws, found a refuge in the fast- 
nesses and woods of this forest as they did in those of 

In 1302 A.D., a precept was issued by Edward I., 
commanding- an enquiry to be made concerning malefactors 
and disturbers of the peace within the chase of Knares- 
borough ; and also of those who fly there, and those who 
without license sport in the same, and all transgressors ; 
and if convicted, commanding the same to be committed 
to prison within the Castle of Knaresborough. 

Even the notorious Robin Hood and his merry men all, 
are believed by Mr. Hunter, the historian of Hallamshire, 
to have occasionally resorted to this forest, finding 

"When shaws beene sheene, and shradds full fayre, 

And leaves both large and long, 
It is merrye walking in the fayre f orrest, 

To heare the small birdes songe ; " 

And more than " to heare the small birdes songe," to 
exercise their bow-skill upon the Royal deer. 

As a protection against such, and possibly, also to serve 
as a hunting lodge to the Royal and other sportsmen, duly 
warranted to take " a bucke of season," there was erected 
in the upper part of Heywra Park, toward the end of 
the second Edward's reign, or early in that of his succes- 
sor, a tower or fortified castlet, known afterwards as John 
of Gaunt's Castle. The ruins of it are still to be seen. 
It is first mentioned in 1334 A.D., (9th of Edward III.) 
when it is designated " fortallicii Regis Heyra." About 
forty years after this date, viz., in 1371 A.D., the Forest and 
Honour were granted by Edward III. to his son John of 
Gaunt, Duke of Lancaster, and they have formed, ever 


since, a portion of that Duchy. This accounts for the 
Castlet bearing- the name of this renowned son of Edward. 
The ruins of another similar forest fortress are to be 
seen at the north-western extremity of the district. Pad- 
side Hall, an erection of the time of Elizabeth, occupies 
the greater part of the area which this castlet formerly 
occupied, and is built from the old materials. Some 
portions of the older building yet remain, but now and 
for long 

" The tirn'rous deer have left the lawn, 

The oak a victim falls ; 
The gentle traveller sighs when shown 
Those desolated walls." 

On at least two occasions the Royal denizens of the 
forest enjoyed the honour of a Royal huntsman. 

About 1209 A.D., King John* was on a hunting expedi- 
tion in the neighbourhood, and took the opportunity, as 
we learn from the life of St. Robert, of paying a visit to 
that hermit in his cell, near Knaresborough ; and Edward 
II., in 1323 A.D., from an itinerary of his of that date, was 
at Heywra for three days. What for, if not for the purposes 
of the chase? 

It is impossible to fix any date at which the various 
wild animals ceased to inhabit the forest. The wild cattle 
are not mentioned after the 13th century. Wolves were 
probably not extinct in the 14th, indeed there are traditions 
of their -existence three centuries later. Deer there were in 
1654 A.D., for William Fleetwood, serjeant of the Duchy of 
Lancaster, was plaintiff in a suit against Ellis Markham 
for destruction of some deer, game, and trees in Haverah 
or Heywra, Park, at that date. The last wild boar is said 
to have been slain in the Boar Hole, in Haverah Park, in 
the reign of Charles II. By the middle of the reign of Eliza- 
beth, however, say 1580 A.D., probably all (except very 
rare specimens indeed) the larger wild animals were gone. 

* King John was at Knaresborough, on Thursday, May 30, 1209 A.D. , 
on Wednesday and Thursday, June 13th and 14th, in the same year ; 
again on Friday and Saturday, September 7th and 8th, 1212, A.D., and 
again Friday and Saturday, September 12th and 18th, 1213 A.D. 


At the Sheriff's Tome of the forest, held in 1576 A.D., there 
were several " paines set," bearing on the subject, e.g., no 
person " having with him dogg or bytche, and carrying 
any bowe, bolte, or arrow, or any other engine or devise," 
should, without license, go about to kill any " woodcock, 
hare, coney, pheasant, partridge, or other beast or foule " 
in the said forest. 

No mention, it will be noticed, is made of any animal 
larger than hare, coney, &c. ; and henceforth alike are 

"The hunter and the deer, a shade." 

They have not, however, passed into "the shadow land" 
without leaving abiding evidence ; of their former presence 
in the forest, stamped upon the names of the places in 
which they abounded. 

One name, pointing to the district as a wild beasts' 
home, even before the forest, as such, was formed, has 
a special significance; viz., that of " Bestham" or " Beast- 
haim." It occurs as the name of a manor, or place of 
importance, in Doomsday Book, and several times after- 
wards, and may possibly be identified with Beeston, or 
Beaston, or Beaston Leas, of comparatively modern times. 
And if so, this once well known refuge for the wild beasts 
was a portion of the Washburn valley, between Fewston 
and Cragg Hall. Many old documents mention Beaston 
Leas or Leighs as being there. 

There can be no doubt about the significance of the 
still well known names of " Swinden," the " dene " or 
valley of the swine; or the kindred ones of " Swiusty," and 
" Swin-cliffe ;" or of Barden, i.e. " Boar-dene," just beyond 
the forest boundary on the west ; or " Boar Hole " in 
Haverah Park. Barley, i.e. Deer-ley, the field of the deer ; 
Ray-Bank, or Roe- Bank, near Thruscross; Beaver-dike, 
near the ruins of John of Gaunt' s Castle ; " Padside," or 
Pate-side, (Pate, a badger), and " Badger Gate" on Timble 
Ings, all in like manner tell their own story. And, as we 
have already seen, " Hey-wra " was the park of the wra. 
or roe, though now disguised as Haverah and Harro. 


Nominally the district remained a Royal Forest up to the 
time of its enclosure, under Act of Parliament, in 1771 
A.D. ; but long before this date it had practically ceased to 
be a refuge for the wild beasts, or to be used for the 
chase. As we have seen, its larger animals were extinct ; 
and besides losing its chief fauna, it had been denuded, in a 
great measure, of its green woods and forest monarchs. 
This is said to have been brought about chiefly by the 
existence of smelting furnaces, for lead, and iron, in the 
neighbourhood. Thoresby, writing in 1703 A.D., makes 
this entry in his diary : 

"The Forest of Knaresborough did abound with 'minera 
ferri' It was once so woody, that I have heard of an 
old writing*, said to be reserved in the parish chest at 
Knaresborough, which obliged them to cut down so 
many yearly as to make a convenient passage for the 
wool-carriers from Newcastle to Leeds. Now it is so 
naked, that there is not so much as one left for a way- 

To this cause, rather than to any other, is to be 
attributed the denudation which laid Harrogate open to 
the sarcasm of Sydney Smith, " Harrogate is the most 
heaven-forsaken country under the sun. When I saw it 
there were only nine mangy fir-trees there, and even they 
all leaned away from it." 

This certainly has no application to the place now. 
Harrogate has become again, under the fostering care of 
the art of landscape gardening, more than of forestry, a 
place of luxuriant groves and avenues. 

And in spite of destruction's unsparing hand, in many 
of the remoter parts of the district, there are still wild 
recesses and dells, and places where "the forest primeval" 
yet waves ; and oaks, which may have sheltered the Royal 
deer, yet flourish, and sycamore groves spread their grate- 
ful shades, all worthy of ancient forest fame. 

And some among the arboreal patriarchs, could they 
but tell us what they had seen, might say, as Mrs. 
Hemans has made such a one to say 


" I have seen the forest shadows lie 

Where men now reap the corn ; 
I have seen the kingly chase rush by, 
Through the deep glades at morn. 

With the glance of many a gallant spear, 

And the wave of many a plume, 
And the bounding of a hundred deer, 

It hath lit the woodland's gloom. 

I have seen the knight and his train ride past, 

With his banner borne on high ; 
O'er all my leaves there was brightness cast 

From his gleaming panoply. 

The pilgrim, at niy feet hath laid 
His palm branch 'midst the flowers, 

And told his beads, and meekly prayed, 
Kneeling, at vesper hours. 

And the inerry men, of wild and glen, 

In the green array they wore, 
Have feasted here, with the red wine cheer, 

And the hunter's song of yore. 

And the minstrel resting in my shade, 

Hath made the forest ring, 
With lordly tales of the high crusade, 

Once loved by chief and king. 

But now their noble forms are gone, 

That walked the earth of old; 
The soft wind hath a mournful tone, 

The sunny light looks cold. 

There is no glory left us now, 

Like the glory with the dead : 
1 would that where they slumber now, 

My latest leaves were shed ! " 

Yes ! the days of the " merry green- wood " are gone. 
The foresters pursue the even tenour of their lives in the 
peaceful cultivation of the fields, where their forefathers 
guarded, or hunted, or perhaps stole the king's deer. 


Yet there are few foresters whose eye will not kindle, 
and the old forest spirit leap within them, at the trolling 
of the Wensleydale forester's (Mr. G. M. J. Barker) song : 

Hurrah for the Forest ! Hurrah for the free ! 
Our home is the wood-land, our shelter the tree, 

Our couch is the fair mossy lawn ; 
No clock to us telleth the coming of day, 
But when larks are singing " we up and away ! " 

Through the soft rosy splendour of dawn. 

The rich dwell in splendour, the poor till the soil 
We heed not their pleasures, we brook not their toil, 

Nor envy their elegant cheer ; 
Beneath some old oak tree our banquet we spread, 
With the green turf beneath us, and green boughs o'erhead, 

And our feast is the flesh of the deer. 

Then fill we full goblets, our comforts to crown, 
With France's choice vintage, or ale berry-brown, 

While nothing embitters the bowl; 
But heart with heart joining, we clasp hand in hand, 
And joyfully quaffing, "to Friendship's true band," 

The blithe songs of our Forestry troll. 

Deep, deep in the forest, beneath the dear shade, . 
Where love rock'd our cradles, our last homes are made, 

When we sink into death's heavy sleep. 
And should no proud tomb mark the Forester's grave, 
Above his green hillock thick oak branches wave, 

And tiue friends at his burial weep. 

Deceit lurks in cities, in pomp there is pain, 
Amid honours, the honour' d oft sigheth in vain, 

For a peace that he never must see : 
But free from ambition disclaiming all strife. 
Undisturbed are our minds as untroubled our life, 

Then " Hurrah for the Forest and Free." 




: 'Waken lords and ladies gay, 
The mist has left the mountains grey, 
Springlets in the dawn are streaming, 
Diamonds on the brake are gleaming ; 
And foresters have busy been, 
To track the buck in thicket green ; 
Now we co nie to chant our lay, 
'Waken lords and ladies gay. 

'Waken lords and ladies gay, 
To the greenwood haste away ; 
We can show you where he lies, 
Fleet of foot and tall of size ; 
We can show the marks he made, 
When 'gainst the oak his antlers frayed; 
You shall see him brought to bay, 
'Waken lords and ladies gay." 


rising sun sends forth its lights, 
In many a golden ray, 
ITo crown the cliffs on Almas' heights 
With blush of waking day. 

Now gleam, now shade, plays o'er Bland Hill, 

As morn pursues the night ; 
And autumn mists by Fewstone mill 

Give place to silvern light. 

The goss'mer's webs, on whin and hedge, 

Are spread a beauteous sight ; 
And dewdrops gleam, on tree and hedge, 

As clear as diamonds bright. 


The deer buck, hind, and fawn at ease, 

By Bestham's wood are laid ; 
No sound, as yet, disturbs the peace 

Of forest's tangled glade. 

Another hour ! how changed the scene ! 

On morning's breeze is borne 
O'er hill, and dale, and village green, 

The blast of hunter's horn. 

As music loved in forest home, 

Is heard the hounds' deep bay ; 
Plompton chief forester is come 

To hunt the stag this day. 

The forest, waking with a bound, 

Sends up a ringing cheer ; 
And quick, from house and hamlet round, 

The foresters appear. 

From Norwood, Elsworthe, Padside Green, 

In haste they hurry forth ; 
From Timble, and its Ings, they're seen, 

From Thurscross and Hoodstorth. 

The shepherd stalks* from Bluber moor, 

The warden from the Gill ; 
And miners quickly hasten o'er 

The heath from Greenhow Hill. 

In troops, o'er Ketel's Head and Ing, 
The men of Hampsthwaite swarm ; 

And, toiling through the gorse and ling, 
They run by Long Stoop farm. 

From Greys ton plain, and Oak Beck side, 

The swineherds are not late ; 
By Strayling ville, o'er moorlands wild, 

They come from Heywra-gate. 

* Persons, whose employment leads them to have to walk much 
among the tall, trackless, heather acquire a gait, or mode of walking, 
which may aptly be described by this word. 


From Swincliffe Top, and Swarcliffe height, 
The Smith's and Bilton's haste ; 

With hunting spear and quiver dight, 
O'er Cold Cotes moorland waste. 

They're there from all the forest through, 

No man behind doth lag ; 
Fairfaxes of Newhall and Scough, 

And Franklands of the Cragg*. 

Beckwith and Pulleine hear the call, 
And stand with hounds in leash ; 

There's Robinson, of Swinsty Hall, 
And Day, of old Day Ash. 

John Jeffrey, of " The Trees/' is there, 
And Stubbs of Whitewall Nook, 

Guy Palmes, of Lindley, th'sport to share, 
Hath come o'er moor and brook. 

Will Wood, of Timble, too is out, 

John Breary of Bland Hill ; 
E'en Parson Smithson joins the rout, 

And Graver from the ville. 

Soon men and hounds, a merry throng*, 
Are on the move ; and, hark ! 

With lusty shout and hunters' song, 
They make for Heyra Park. 

The woods are drawn by John O'Gaunt's, 

The Beaver dell is past ; 
The herds are Startled in their haunts 

As a buck breaks ground at last. 

At clarion blown on huntsman's horn, 
The shout rings loud and far ; 

They rush through tangled brake and thorn, 
By field and echoing scar. 

The wild boar dashes from his lair, 
'Mong leaves and rotting logs ; 

The grey fox scuds, with timid hare, 
From crash of men and dogs. 


The graceful stag, without a check, 

Now bounds o'er Old Camp ridge, 
Down Worstall Crags, o'er Wydrah Beck, 

And 'cross by Bedlam Bridge. 

Then on, and on, as arrow sent, 

He flies by Coppice Sike, 
Thence skirts the side of Fewston Bent, 

And 'long the Busky Dike. 

By Upper Cragg, o'er Watling Street, 

He speeds by Lane Ends wood ; 
And, pressed by the hunters fleet, 

There crosses Washburn flood. 

Before him fly the startled flocks, 

As o'er the heath he takes, 
Along the hill by Brandreth rocks, 

And 'mong the golden brakes. 

The sun has reached to half its height, 

As down 'neath Hangon Hill, 
The hunted beast, in hunters' sight, 

Seeks rest in Redshaw Gill. 

But there no shelt'ring spot he finds, 

But breaks toward Brown Bank, 
As hunters' shouts come on the wind, 

And foam drops from his flank. 

With panting tongue, by Bramley Head, 

He drags a weary way ; 
By moor, and moss, and brooklets' bed, 

He treads the mountains grey. 

In Cappishaw's bright amber stream, 

He cools his heated limbs, 
As 'cross its pool in sunlit gleam, 

He quickly madly swims. 

Still on he toils by Whit-Moor ends, 

And Thurstan's holy cross, 
By where the waning Washbrook wends, 

At Hoodstorth's sparkling foss. 


Past Harden Beck, away, away, 
He gains the deep Ray Bank, 

And there, at length, he turns to bay, 
'Neath rocks 'mid brackens dank. 

The deep-mouthed hounds rush on in cry, 

But fear to close around, 
As right and left his antlers fly, 

Till gore bestrews the ground. 

But soon they end the mortal fray, 

His frantic strength is fled ; 
They seize, they tear, and win the day, 

The noble beast is dead ! 

Then quick, with shouts both loud and shrill, 

The hunters gather round ; 
From crag to crag, and hill to hill, 

Echoing horns resound. 

Many a chase that day they run, 

And many a one before ; 
But ne'er a chase like this they won, 

On forest, hill, or moor. 

The sun goes down o'er Roggan's height 

Before their sport they end ; 
The day is passing into night, 

As homeward, slow, they wend. 

The hunters' moon is mounted high, 

Few signs of day remain, 
A thousand stars bedeck the sky, 

Ere all their homes attain. 

Long years of change have come and gone 

Since there such day was seen ; 
Where thick woods waved the sun hath shone, 

And now are pastures green. 


Where then the red buck bounded free, 

Till roused by hunters' horn ; 
There now but spreads the hedgerow tree, 

Or waves the rip'ning corn. 

Where royal lodge, in haughty power, 

Arose with battled wall, 
There now but stands the ivyed tower, 

Or yeoman's crumbling hall. 

The names well known and famed of yore, 

Have fled, or waned, or died ; 
Day, Beckwith, Frankland, are no more, 

And many a one beside. 

But oft a root, though hid away, 

By shoot is not unknown : 
And Fairfax, Stubbs, and Thackeray, 

Are names the world doth own. 

E'en yet, in hall, by lane, or gill, 

Of sires whose course is run, 
The grand old forest blossoms still, 

With many a worthy son. 

Long may its sons, as men of God, 

For Church and Country stand, 
As England's yeomen ever stood, 

The bulwarks of the land. 

[This ballad contains grave anachronisms, excusable only tinder 
poetic license. It is not probable that many, if any, wild beasts, 
even of chase, survived in the Forest later than the 16th cen- 
tury. The personal names introduced into the ballad belong 
to the former half .of the 17th century.] 

The hunt even yet penetrates occasionally into the forest 
glens, if we may judge from the following account, taken 
from the Yorkshire Post of January 12th, 1881 : 

" YORK AND AINSTY HOUNDS. A correspondent writes : 
Unlike most other packs of hounds, to which, judging from the 
oft-occurring accounts of their performances bad, good, and in- 
different a 'remembrancer' is evidently attached to the staff of 


officials, the York and Ainsty very rarely go over their ground 
again on paper. However, the sport on Thursday last, January 
6th, was so exceptionally remarkable, that I must send you an 
account of it, having had the good fortune to be out on that 
day. The hounds meb at Bishop Monkton, drew Bishop Monkton 
Whin blank. We then drew the low coverts at Copgrove, and 
found immediately; a real good fox went away by the low 
grounds straight for Copgrove, turned to the right up the hill, 
left Burton Leonard village on the left, and the coverts to 
the right, ran to South Stainley, crossed the Eipon road, on 
through Cayton Gill to Shaw Mill, 'and went to ground close to 
Winsley ; time, 1 hour and 20 minutes ; distance as the crow flies, 
seven miles. We then drew Clint Wood. Here a gallant fox was 
found, and was off without an instant's delay. He went over the 
river immediately, close to Hampsthwaite Bridge, where we 
crossed. He then went by Birstwith to Kettlesing, towards 
Blubberhouse Moor and Hardisty Hill ; the hounds ran into a 
deep gill, near West End, where it was impossible for horses to 
get down. It was thought that the fox might have got to ground 
in the gill. The huntsman therefore dismounted, and went down 
the gill on foot, to try and mark him, but he here found that some 
of the hounds were missing, and afterwards ascertained that five 
couple had slipped out at the end of the gill, and it was supposed 
had killed their fox alone on the moor, two miles further on, 
between Bramley Head and Simon's Seat. It was now quite dark, 
and time had not been taken, but the distance as the crow flies is 
close upon ten miles, leaving off at least 40 miles from the kennels. 
Both master and huntsman had reason to be proud of the bitch 
pack on that day, for they worked magnificently. Altogether the 
York and Ainsty have had very good sport this season, accounting 
for plenty of foxes, and having had some rattling good gallops in 
fact quite above the average. I am told that the master is greatly 
pleased with his new huntsman, and from what I have seen myself 
and heard from others, he has every reason to be so." 

The Master of the York and Ainsty Hounds bears the 
honoured forest name of Fairfax Col. Fairfax. 



1 Our Lord that likened is to a lamb, 
I beseech Thee where I sit, 
Visit that Thou would my wit, 
With wisdom of Thy worthy Sell, 
Through living truly for to tell 
Of Saint Robert that heremit, 
"Was approved here perfitt ; 
Beside Knaresburgh in a skene, 
In a renes closed hiinsene ; 
And full devoutly he lay 
In contemplation night and day." 

Metrical Life of St. Robert, I4:th cent. 

the ballads, romances, and even the history of 
most nations, men of ascetic lives, nazarites, her- 
mits, and such like, hold a place in ecclesiastical 
chivalry analagous to that held by crusaders, knights, 
Knights Templars, &c., in social and national chivalry. 
The lives of many such have been written, and form no 
unimportant part of mediaeval and modern literature. 

The life, however, of St. Robert, the hermit of- Knarcs- 
borough, seems, as to modern days at least, to be an 
exception. The influence he exercised in his time, and the 
veneration in which his name was long held in Yorkshire, 
were very considerable. Yet the short sketches, which 
have been given of his history, have been confined to 
books which only come into the hands of few. And 
this, since the revival of a taste for archaeological and 


mediaeval subjects/ is the more to be wondered at, because 
there exists, buried in monastic legends and writings, a 
considerable amount of material ready for use. 

There is a MS. life of him in Latin triplets, probably the 
work of one of the monks of Fountains Abbey, another 
metrical one, in old English, most likely by a brother of 
the Priory of Holy Trinity at Knaresborough, and also 
one in Latin prose, all dating about the beginning of the 
fifteenth century. These are now in the library of the 
Duke of Newcastle. They were placed at the disposal of 
the late J. E. Walbran, Esq., when compiling his " Me- 
morials of Fountains," and in a note to this able work is 
found the most reliable sketch of the hermit's life which has 
been given. The old English version has been printed for 
the Roxburgh Club. The whole of these sources of 
information are freely put under contribution for this 
paper ; the spelling of the old English being more or less 
modernized, and a free rendering of the Latin triplets 
substituted, except in one or two instances, for the original. 
There is also " Vita Robert! de Knaresburg, per Richard 
Stodeley scripta," among the Harleian MSS. in the British 
Museum, but whether this be a copy of any of the above, 
or an independent record, the writer has not had the 
opportunity to ascertain. 

St. Robert's parents resided, during the latter half of 
the twelfth century, at York. His father was Sir Toke 
Flouris, who was at least twice mayor of that city. 
According to the Latin history, the name of his wife, 
Robert's mother, was Siminima, but the early English MS. 
gives it as Onnuryte : 

" Some time in York his life to lead, 
Of a righteous man, I reade, 
Docens Flos, I understand 
Men called him when he was livand, 
And his wife, dame Onnuryte." 

It has, however, been thought by some that " Toke," 
or " Coke," was really the paternal name, and that the 
family was originally " De Tokeliffe," or " De Cokeliffe." 


That there should be some uncertainty, on such a point, 
will surprise no one, who knows how unfixed were sur- 
names at that time. 

Robert was the eldest son, and was born about 1160 A.D. 

Little of his early life is recorded beyond that he was 
an exemplary child, and a studious youth. The Latin 
biographer says, 

"Hie adultus mansuetus, 
Fuit factus qui facetus, 
Pulchris puris ac repletus, 

Ornamentis morum. 
Pius, prudens, ac perfectus, 
Et aplebe predelectus, 
Factis sedis nee infectus 
Fuit viciorum." 

On attaining the requisite age he was admitted to holy 
orders, but never advanced beyond the sub-diaconate. 

" But why nay mey orders he toke, 
Find I noght brefed in my boke." 

After some time, during which a brother of his appears 
to have become an inmate of the Cistercian Abbey of 
Newminster,* in Northumberland, Robert joined the same 
brotherhood, and was there invested with the habit of the 
Cistercian novitiate. Here, however, he remained only 
eighteen weeks. 

" Four monthes and two weke mare, 
Eobert reved with monkes there ; 
And then like maid mildest of mode, 
To York again full mildly rode, 
To his friendship and his friends." 

A monk's life thus not suiting him, he, after a time, 
determined to try that of a hermit. He selected for this 
purpose a romantic spot near Knaresborough, about 

* The abbey of Newminster was founded by Ealph de Merley, in 
1138 A.D., with a colony of twelve monks from Fountains, one of whom, 
St. Robert of Newminster (often confounded with the subject of this 
sketch), was the first abbot. 



eighteen miles westward of his native city. Hither, 
leaving the " landes and goodes of his father, to whome 
he was heire, as eldest sonne" (Leland), he withdrew 
himself secretly from his parents' home. Providence 
appears to have smiled on the step, for when 

" He came to Knaresborough, 
There an hermit, Bobert fand, 
Devout in a rock dwelland, 
That a knight had been before, 
That kin, and towne, and his store, 
All had forsaken, child and wife, 
And there as hermit led his life." 

This man, who had thus forestalled Robert in the place, 
was known as St. Giles. He already had provided himself 
a cell a cave in the rock on the northern side of the 
river Nidd, about a mile below the town. To this 
kindred spirit Robert gladly joined himself. 

The place, which these men had thus selected for their 
abode, was one which, in almost every detail, meets 
Spenser's description of a hermitage : 

" A little lowly hermitage it was, 

Downe in a dale, hard by a forest's side ; 

Far from resort of people that did pass 
In traveill to and fro ; a little wyde 
There was an holy chapelle edifyde, 

Wherein the holy hermite dewly wont to say 
His holy things, each morn and eventyde : 

Thereby a christall streame did gently play, 

Which from a sacred fountain welled forth alway." 

The river Nidd, after pursuing its "unquiet" course 
from its source at the foot of Whernside in the western 
moorlands, through Nidderdale, breaks out, at Knares- 
borough between high and rugged limestone cliffs, into 
the open vale of York. On the top of one of these 
cliffs stood, and still stand the ruins of, the strong 
castle built by Serlo de Burg soon after the Conquest, 
and in which for a time the murderers of Archbishop 
a'Becket found a refuge. 


A considerable portion of the town of Knaresborough 
stands on rocky terraces, sloping down to the water. To 
the south, and away for many miles to the west, stretched, 
in the days of St. Robert, the almost impenetrable forest. 

" The nimble Nyde, 

Through Nythersdale, along as sweetly she doth glide 
Tow'rds Knaresburg on her way, 

Where that brave forest stands 
Entitled by the town." Dray ton. 

On the opposite side of the river, and facing the cliffs in 
which the hermits had fixed their residence, rises, like an 
enormous sphinx out of the opening plain, a precipitous 
rock its sides now clothed with underwood called 
Grimbald's Crag. 

A more suitable spot, therefore, for a hermit's cell, could 
not have been found. The cave, which formed part (pro- 
bably at first the whole) of the hermitage, is now known 
as St. Robert's Cave.* It is completely shut in by trees 
and underwood. A rudely formed stair, partly hewn in 
the natural rock, leads down through the dense foliage to 
the mouth. The cave itself is of an irregular circular 
shape, sufficiently large, as to area, to form a comfortable 
room. The roof is solid rock, and so is the floor. At one 
end of the apartment there is a recess, which may have 
served f$r a pantry, the places for the shelves being yet 
visible. Outside, to the right-hand of the doorway, a 
long seat is cut, also in the solid stone, while above it the 
face of the rock contains some indications of another, and 
larger room, having been partly hewn out, and partly 
formed by masonry built against it. A little to the left of 
the entrance, but only separated from the rock by about 
two feet, are the foundations of a small chapel, of hewn 
stone. Of this chapel, more hereafter. The whole in-. 

* This cave has been given notoriety in modern times by being the 
scene of the murder, for which Eugene Aram, the hero of Bulwer 
Lytton's novel, and of Hood's poem, " The dream of Eugene Aram," 
was executed. 


voluntarily recalls Dr. Percy's description of the hermitage 
at Warkworth : 

" And now, attended by their host, 

The hermitage they viewed, 
Deep-hewn within a craggy cliff, 

And overhung with wood. 
" And near, a flight of shapely steps, 

All cut with nicest skill, 
And piercing through a stony arch, 
Kan winding up the hill. 

" Then, scooped within the solid rock, 

Three sacred vaults he shows : 

The chief a chapel, neatly arched, 

On branching columns rose." 

But to return now to St. Robert. The compact between 
him and St. Giles did not long bear the strain of close 
fellowship. St. Giles very soon withdrew himself and 
returned to the world. 

" Langer liked him not that life, 
But as a wretch, went to his wife, 
As hound that casts off his kit, 
And, aye, turns and takest his vomit." 

Thus was Robert left in sole possession. How long he 
lived alone in the cave there is no record ; probably not 
long, but soon betook himself to a wealthy lady in the 
neighbourhood (probably a Percy of Spofforth Castle) for 

" Ad matronam tune migravit, 
A qua quidem impetravit 
Vite victim nee negavit, 
Dare necessaria." 

This lady bestowed upon him a small chapel, dedicated to 
St. Hilda, and as much land as he should be able to dig. 
It would appear, however, that he had now associated 
others with himself, as companions or helpers ; for the 
lady's grant is made 

" To thee and thy poor men alway, 
Against my gift shall no man say." 


The place of this chapel and hermitage, is about two miles 
from his cave-dwelling- in the rock. It is still known as St. 
Hile's Nook, and, so late as 1843 A.D., the foundations of 
the chapel were removed, and used in the erection of the 
Roman Catholic church at Knaresborough. Here again 
Robert remained only about a year. The reason for his 
desertion is thus related: 

" It befell upon a night 
Fell thieves came with main and might ; 
His bower they brak, and bare away 
His bread, his cheese, his sustenance, 
And his poore men's purveyance. 
Havand in his mind always 
How God his gospel says, 
'If fools pursue you, false and fell, 
In a city where you dwell, 
Flee unto another than ;' 
Therefore Eobert raise and ran, 
And sped him unto Spofford town 
To sue God with devocione." 

Spofforth, the place to which " he ran," is a village near, 
and the castle there was a residence of the Percy family, 
one of whom his patroness probably was. His sojourn at 
the place was a temporary one. The importunity of large 
numbers of people annoyed him, and his popularity led 
him to fear lest he should fall into temptation to vain- 
glory. He therefore accepted an opportune invitation 
from a cell of Cluniac monks at Hedley, in the adjoining 
parish of Bramham, to join their brotherhood. 

Neither, however, did their mode of life suit him. His 
austerity rebuked their laxity. Though 

" His life to leil men gave great light 
As does a stere upon a night," 

they gave him no agreeable time of it at Hedley ; but 

" On him they raise all in a route, 
And bade this blessed man go out ; 
At him they were baithe wrath and ork, 
Baithe in cloister and in kyrk." 


He therefore left them, and returned to the ruined chapel 
and cell of St. Hilda, thinking it 

" Better to beld with beastes wyld 
Than with merred men unmylde." 

The lady who had before befriended him did so again. 
She gladly welcomed him back to the spot she had before 
given him, and at once she set " men of crafte " to work 
to build (or rebuild) for him " a honesthalle," and " man- 
siones for his men gert mak," and 

" A laithe for Robert's sake, 
His swine, his cattel into bringe." 

The number of men now forming his brotherhood was 
four. Two were employed to till and cultivate the land 
around their dwelling ; one accompanied Robert about the 
country begging alms for the community and for the poor ; 
and the fourth was a kind of general help. 

He is said at this time to have spent whole nights in 
prayer, aud that the little sleep he permitted himself to 
take was taken upon the bare ground. His clothing 
consisted of one long garment, white in colour, probably 
that of the Cistercian novitiate, made of undyed wool, but 
so thin as "to serve him rather as a cover for his naked- 
ness than a protection from the cold." His food was 
bread made of barley meal, with broth of herbs, varied by 
a few beans seasoned with salt once a week. His daily 
employment was 

" To begge and brynge pore men of baile, 
This was his purpose principale." 

One day about this period, while he was sleeping upon 
the flowery grass, his mother, who had lately died, 
appeared to him, 

" Pale and wan of hide and hue." 

She told him that for usury and other sins she was suffer- 
ing great torment, and must continue to do so until set 
free through his prayers. This greatly troubled him, and 
for a whole year he ceased not to make intercession on 


her behalf. At the end of that time she again appeared 
to him, with a happy and shining face, to thank him and 
announce her deliverance. She then proceeded to 

" Wend to wealth that never shall wane, 
Farewell ! I bless thee, blood and bain." 

A very similar circumstance, the reader may remember, is 
related of St. Perpetua, who suffered martyrdom as early 
as the year 205 A.D. 

Robert was not allowed to remain undisturbed at St. 
Hilda's. The words of his patroness in her grant 

" Against my gifte shall no man say," 

proved untrue. 

The times were those in which often 

"Might was right," 
and men were content with 

' The simple plan, 

That they should take who have the power. 
And they should keep who can." 

In 1177 A.D., the king (Henry II.) granted the wardship 
of the castle and manor of Knaresborough to William de 
Stuteville. This baron, 

" Lord of that land, both east and west, 
Of frith, and field, and of forest," 

probably soon after his grant, was riding through the 
forest, and came upon Robert's " honest halle." He asked 
of his attendants, "Whose was that building?" They 
replied, " that it belonged to 

" Anejjhermite, that is perfite, 
Kobert, that is no rebellour, 
A servante of oure Savioure." 

" No," replied the baron, " not so, but an abettor and 
harbourer of thieves." Then he ordered the place to be 
demolished, and the hermit banished from the forest. The 
attendants were most unwilling to molest "the holy 
hermite," and delayed to execute the order. But Stute- 


ville passed the same way a few days afterwards, and, 
seeing the buildings yet standing, was mad with fury, and 
ordered their instant destruction. 

"Then they durst no langer byde, 
But unto Eobert's housying hyed, 
And dang them downe, baith less and maire, 
Nothing left they standing there." 

Again, by violence, deprived of his dwelling, Robert for 
some time wandered from place to place in the forest, but 
at length returned to the shelter of the cliffs near Knares- 
borough. Probably not, however, to his original cave, but 
to an excavation in the rock which is now known as St. 
Robert's Chapel, and also as the Chapel of St. Giles. 
Whether this chapel was the work of St. Giles, or of St. 
Robert during his former residence near, may be doubtful. 
Much, if not all, that is now to be seen in it, is of more 
modern date than either of them. The cavern is cut 
entirely out of the limestone rock ; on the face of the rock 
at the right hand, as the door is approached, is sculptured 
the figure of a Knight Templar, armed, and in the act of 
drawing his sword to defend the entrance. 

" Carved in the rock, and near the door, 
An armed warrior stands, 
Who seems to guard the sacred place 
From rude and hostile hands." 

The doorway is a somewhat rudely constructed pointed 
arch; the window to the left of it (entering) is an insertion 
in the Perpendicular style, and therefore later, than the 
other parts of the chapel. It was probably brought from 
the ruins of the neighbouring priory of the Holy Trinity 
after the suppression of that house in A.D. 1539. The 
interior measurement of the chapel is given as 10 ft. by 
9 ft., and the height 7 ft. 6 in. The roof is groined ; the 
altar opposite the door remains complete ; over it is a 
recess cut in a rock, probably for the crucifix. In the 
altar slab, near the front edge, there are two holes for the 
sacred relics. In the centre of the floor, and immediately 
in front of the altar, there is a large hole, probably also 


for relics. On the walls there are three or four rudely 
sketched faces, and apparently the work of a much more 
recent hand than any of the other decorations. In many 
respects this singular, almost, I believe, unique chapel, is 
intensely interesting to the ecclesiologist and archaeologist. 
To this place St. Robert came, or returned, after the 
destruction of his hermitage at St. Hilda's. He formed 
himself a dwelling, at the front of the cave, by means of 
stakes and the boughs of trees. And hither 

"Highe and lowe unto him hyed, 
In soth for to be edifyed." 

But again his enemy, the lord of the adjoining castle, 
passed that way 

"Withe hound, and hawke upon his hond," 
and seeing the smoke curling up from Robert's hut, he 
again asked, " Who dwelt there ?" The reply was, 
" Robert the hermit." " What, that same Robert whom I 
not long ago since expelled from my forest ?" Again he 
was answered, " It is the same." Then he sware a mad 
oath that he should at once be driven away again. 

But in the middle of the following night there appeared 
to the baron a fearful vision. Three men, " blacker than 
Ynd," stood by him in his chamber. Two of them carried 
a fearful instrument of torture, and the third, a tall 
powerful man, had in his hand two iron clubs. This man 
bid the baron rise and take one of the clubs and defend 
himself, " for the wrongs with which thou spites the man 
of God, because I am sent here to fight thee on his part." 
" Fears the lord his whole frame shakes, 
Horror deep his niind o'ertakes, 
Vanished they as he awakes, 

Who rushed in wrath to rend him." 

The hermit's dwelling was saved; as soon as the 
morning dawned, Stuteville hastened to the cell, and, 
" In the cavern he low bow'd, 
His transgression disallowed, 
Gave the land, an owner proud, 
To Eobert and guest-friends." 


The land thus given him was all that which lay between 
his cell and Grimbald's Crag. This would be a con- 
siderable quantity, including what is now the site of the 
ruined priory ; and, to enable him the better to cultivate it, 
there was added to the grant the gift of two oxen and 
two horses, with as many cows And also, from Christ- 
mas to the morrow of the Epiphany, in every year, 
Robert was to have food from the castle for thirteen 
poor men; and, at all times, all necessary alms for the 

Now the hermit dwelt undisturbed. His enemy's ire 
had been turned to his advantage, and even he " had 
been made to dwell at peace with him." 

Large numbers of people the feeble, lame, maimed, 
deaf, and blind flocked to his cell to seek his intervention 
and blessing. And about this time his brother Walter, 
who had risen to be mayor of York, came to visit him. 
But being ashamed, and grieved, to find him in so miserable 
a dwelling, he endeavoured to induce him to change his 
solitary life, and again join some religious house. But 
Robert would not hear of it. His brother, upon this, sent 
masons and other workmen of divers kinds, " who built 
for him a little chapel in honour of the Holy Cross, of 
hewn stone, and prepared a house where he might receive 
pilgrims and the poor." 

There can be little doubt that this house was the 
apartment of which traces remain, in front of the cave 
which had been the original habitation of St. Giles and 
himself. The record runs thus : 

" Walter built for him a cell, 
And St. Crux's fair chapelle ; 
Newly anew endowed it well 
With gifts that shew'd kind will." 

This Chapel of the Holy Cross was the one, the founda- 
tions of which were uncovered about forty years ago, 
and to which allusion has before been made, close to the 
entrance of the cave. Being thus more fitly provided 
with chapel and cell by Walter, hither Robert once more 


removed from his hut by the Chapel of St. Giles, and here 
he spent the remainder of his life. 

The foundations of the Chapel of the Holy Cross are 
still tolerably perfect. The length of it has been about 
16 ft. 6 in., the width 9 ft. 3 in. The floor at the east end 
is raised for the altar, the steps to which, with the bottom 
of the walls, buttresses, and stairs down to the river, are 
all to be seen In front of the altar steps, in the midst of 
what may be designated the nave, is a stone coffin or 
grave, hewn in the floor of solid rock. This no doubt 
was prepared for the hermit's last resting-place, and here 
probably his body did for long generations rest, but when 
the rubbish was cleared away at the time the foundations 
were laid bare, the grave was found uncovered and empty- 

" The green tree o'er the altar bends 

Mid grass and nettles tall ; 
Deeply her sigh the midnight sends 

Along the ruined wall. 
Of sainted memories calm and bright, 

No legend needs to tell, 
For story's pen must fail to write 

What ruin paints so well. 

But once more to return to the life of the hermit. On 
taking up his abode, in this more commodious hermitage, 
he took also to himself a companion, in the person of Ivo, 
who is said to have been a Jew. The call of Ivo by St. 
Robert is thus described : 

" Whilst one day he walked about, 
Ivo joined him relieved from doubt ; 
By his voice he called him out, 
With me and mine take part. 

But before long, yielding to the temptation of Satan, 

" Ivo with Kobert soon has strife, 
So withdrew from desert life." 

But as he was making haste in his escape, in passing 
through a wood, he stepped on a rotten bough, which 
caused him to fall into a ditch and break his leg. Robert, 
being made aware of the accident, hastened to the spot, 


and smiling at Ivo's plight, rebuked him for his fault, and 
reminded him that, " no one putting his hand to the 
plough, and looking back, is fit for the kingdom of God." 
Ivo humbly confessed his error in deserting his friend, and 
begged his pardon. Robert bid him 

" Wretched, seek my habitation, 
Blessed and free for contemplation, 
Long and long God's domination, 
Thou by thy prayer hast won." 

He then touched the backslider's leg, and it was restored 
safe and sound. They never parted more until Robert 
died, and were worthy brothers in self -mortification. Ivo 
often went to York to gather alms for the poor, and even 
in the severe weather of winter he walked barefoot, and 
his footsteps could be traced along the frozen road by the 
blood which flowed from his feet. 

" York by road, snow o'er the top, 
Barefoot he walked to, without stop, 
Blood distilling, drop by drop, 
Full deeply stained the ground." 

About this period five robbers attempted to break into 
the hermit's sacred premises, and were suddenly struck 
dead for their temerity. 

Even the animal creation felt St. Robert's power and 
obeyed his behests. The same thing has been related of 
others; e.g., stags came out of the forest to draw the 
ploughs of St. Leouor, and stags drew the Irish hermit 
Kellac to his grave ; they came of their own will out of 
the forest to supply the place of cattle that St. Colodoc 
had lost ; and the most ferocious wild beasts are said to 
have crouched at the feet of Macarius, Hilarion, and 
others. So was it with Robert. 

Once, when collecting alms, he asked the lord of the 
forest for a cow. One, so wild and ferocious that no one 
dare approach her, was given him. At once he went after 
her into the forest, and, going up to her, put a band round 
her neck, and led her home gentle as a lamb. One of the 
attendants, seeing the animal so easily tamed, proposed to 


get her back from the hermit by subtilty. The master did 
not approve of the attempt ; nevertheless the man deter- 
mined to make it. He went to Robert as a beggar with 
distorted face, and counterfeited lameness in both hands 
and feet, and, telling a piteous tale of wife and children 
dying for want, implored him to give him the cow. " God 
gave and God shall have," was his reply, " but it shall be 
with thee as thou hast feigned." So when the counterfeit 
cripple would have driven off his prize, he found himself 
so lame both in hands and feet that he was unable to 
move. Seeing this judgment upon him, the man cried 
out, " Robert, thou servant of God, forgive my trespass 
and the injury I have done." He was instantly forgiven, 
and the use of his limbs restored to him. 

This story and the following one formed the subjects of 
coloured windows set up in Knaresborough Church in 
1473 A.D. 250 years after the hermit's death. 

Robert suffered great damage by the stags from 
Knaresborough Forest breaking down and trampling his 
corn and other crops. 

" Often stags made fierce attacks, 
Cut up corn fields in their tracks, 
All the earth their wildness racks 
Except where each one rests. 

Again Robert went to the lord of the forest, and 
desired that they might be restrained. " I give thee full 
permission," replied De Estuteville, " to shut them up in 

thy barn." 

" Answers he with ill design, 
Christian, shut up the stags as thine, 
That with chaunts thou mayest refine 
Them yet untarn'd by pains." 

Robert, taking a small stick in his hand, proceeded into the 
fields and drove the wild deer into his barn like so many 
lambs, and shut them up. 

" Seeks he the plain, his barn is filled, 
Stags being brought from fields well tilled, 
Joining in, as beasts well skilled, 
They snort with hallowed chime." 


He then went to inform the baron what he had accom- 
plished, and desired to know what next should be done 
with them. Finding that more had been done than was 
intended, permission was only given him to retain three of 
them, for use instead of oxen to draw his plough. Robert 
thanked the donor, and went home and yoked them to his 
plough. Their submission and docility at this work were 
daily seen and admired by all who passed by. 

More than once he had to contend with Satanic visitants 
in his cell. One 

" Aboute his house this harlotte hyed, 
His devocions he defyed ; 
All the vessels that he fand 
He tyfled and touched them with his hand, 
His pott, his panne, his sause, his foule, 
With his fingers, fat and foule." 

The details of these visitations are perhaps better untold ; 
suffice it to say, that the visitant was once driven away by 
being sprinkled with holy water, once by the sign of the 
cross, and finally by the hermit's staff. 

In 1203 A.D., De Stuteville, lord of the castle and forest 
of Knaresborough, died, and for his good deeds was 
buried at Fountains Abbey. The charge of these royal 
possessions was, soon after, handed over by King John, to 
Sir Brian de Lisle, who, proving a great friend to Robert, 
induced the king (John) and his court, when he came to 
hunt in the royal forest, to visit him in his cell.* The 
king came with a great concourse of nobles. When they 
entered, the hermit was at prayer, prostrate before the 
altar of his chapel. He did not rise, though aware of 
the presence and dignity of his visitors, until De Lisle 
went to him and whispered, " Brother Robert, arise 
quickly ; our lord King John is here, desirous to see thee." 
Then he arose, and said, " Show me which of these is my 

* King John was at Knaresborongh, Thursday, May 30th, 1209 A.D., 
again on Wednesday and Thursday, June 13th and 14th, 1209 A.D., 
on September 7th and 8th, 1212 A.D. ; and on September 17th and 18th, 
1213 A.D. 


king." One of his peers, " a knight, outpoured much talk, 
and this beside, "-~ 

-" Ask the king out of his store 
Thee to bless this day with more, 
That by his grant here as before 
You may with yours abide." 

He declined to do so ; but taking up an ear of corn 
from the floor, he addressed the king, " Art thou able, 
my king, by thy power, to create such an ear as this out 
of nothing ?" The king replied he was unable to do so. 
" Then there is no king," answered Robert, " but the Lord 
only." Some of the attendants said, " This man is mad ;" 
others, " Nay, he is wiser than we, since he is the servant 
of God, in whom is all wisdom." John was not offended, 
but rather pleased at the blunt address of St. Robert, and 
said to him, " Ask of me whatever is necessary for thee, 
and it shall be given." 

"Answered Eobert thus the speaker, 
'Silver and gold to me Christ's seeker, 
Earthly gifts none can be weaker 
To meet our transient need.' " 

But Ivo, when the king had departed finding that no 
alms had been taken, and mindful also of their successors, 
ran or sent after him, and the king conferred upon them 
as much land, of the waste in the adjacent wood, as they 
could cultivate with one plough, by way of alms to the poor; 
and also, free liberty to cut and take fire ivood and bedding. 
No sooner was this grant brought under cultivation, 
than the rector of the parish demanded his tithe therefrom, 
and said, 

" Tythe exemption don't assert, 

Straight bring thy corn and hay." 

" This expressly he denied, 
And to the rector quick replied, 
' None I'll pay, and so decide ; 
Don't ask for them, I pray;' " 

And because the rector, who was also at that time the 


head of Nostel Priory, insisted upon its rights, Robert 
foretold for him no good, 

" Prophesied he, thou book wearer, 
Thy own tongue, tho' now a tearer, 
Shall be torn from this, thou swearer, 
And so he made his misery." 

Robert's own end at last drew near. When the monks 
of Fountains Abbey had warning- thereof, they hurried to 
his cell, bringing- with them the full habit of their order in 
which to invest him, hoping thus to secure his body for 
burial in their monastery. 

" The monks of Fountains came full tyte, 
And with them brought a habit white, 
And said, ' Kobert, this sail thou have 
With thee when thou goest to thy grave.' 
Robert said, ' Sirs, when I deghe 
Mine own clothing sail suffice for me.'" 

He was, however, certain, and he warned Ivo and his 
other friends, that on his death the monks would endeavour 
to gain possession of his body, and said that his own 
desire was to be buried where he had lived. 

" Here will I rest my time in dust, 
And to the King and Queen I trust, 
To the Triune God as just, 
To take my case commended." 

Having charged his friends with regard to this, and 
other matters, and told them if necessary to call in the 
civil power to protect his body, and having given his 
blessing to Ivo and others standing weeping by, then 

" Into Thy hands, my Maker, I 
Now yield up my soul and die. 
Crossed himself, no groan, no sigh, 

And so gave up the ghost. 
Present is the angel choir, . 
All around seized the Spirit's fire, 
To high heaven praise rises higher, 

They join'd who love the most." 



" Ivo closed his eghe with, rnakyll care. 

And wept for him baithe less and maire." 

And, if the reader will pardon a quotation from the Latin 
prose life of the saint, " Yvo cum astantibus lugubres 
voces cum crebris singultibus emittentes, dixerunt, ' Heu, 
heu! ad quern in tribulationibus et pressuris constituti 
ibimus.' Defuncto itaque beatae et dignse memorise patre 
nostro, Roberto, advocato, et patrono spirituque suo ad 
summae felicitatis eternitatem vocato, sanctuque corpore 
ipsius exanimi relicto, idem cum omni diligentia properavit 
ad humandum." 

The death took place on the 24th of September, 1218 A.D. 

As the holy man had foreseen, so soon as his death was 
known, the monks of Fountains came to get, if possible, 
possession of the body, in order to enshrine it in 
their own abbey. Again they brought with them the 
habit of their order in which to enfold it. When they 
attempted to carry it off, Ivo and other friends urged 
the expression of the hermit's own wish, that he should 
be buried where he had lived. This the monks met by 
the reply, " that it was more convenient and decent that 
the body of so great a man should be interred in a more 
solemn resting-place than in that barren and desolate 
spot." However, acting on the suggestion of Robert 
given before his death, Ivo and the brotherhood besought 
help from the castle, which was granted them, and thus 
by force of arms they prevented the carrying off of the 
body. The monks were compelled to retire to their 
monastery, defeated, and in sorrow at the loss of what 
would have been to them so great a treasure. 

When Ivo and the other brethren committed it to the 
tomb, multitudes gathered from all the country around to 
pay the last honours to one who had been to them so great 
a benefactor. 

" Crowds are round with cowl and hood, 
Poor, and powerful, and good, 
Him to mourn in sorrowing mood, 
Maids, husbands, widows, seek. 


" Who from wolves our loved homes freed ? 
Who for his own did intercede ? 
Who with words our souls did feed ? 
Thus grieved, they ever speak. 

" Ivo next with greatest care 
Did, with much beside prepare 
(Himself and many a helper there), 
In earth our saint to place." 

The saint was thus buried where he had desired, in the 
Chapel of the Holy Cross, built for him by his brother, 
" in a tomb before the altar." 

It does not appear that St. Robert was ever formally 
canonized, although from within a short time of his death 
he has always been designated "Saint." -The following 
lines convey this intimation : 

" Yet his tomb gives attestation, 
Where our Saint has veneration, 
That it is no fabrication, 
Which us our book assures. 

" Tho' not canonized a Saint, 
God through him regards each plaint ; 
Prayed to, removes our every taint, 
With many wondrous cures. 

According to the " Anglican Calendar," published by J. 
H. Parker, the Festival of St. Robert was May 23rd. 
His influence long survived in the north. Pictures of the 
scenes of his life were valued, even set up in churches,* 
and his tomb was a place of pilgrimage for such as were 
supposed to have been benefited by his help in life. 

Matthew of Paris, under the year 1238 A.D., says: 
" Eodem anno claruit fama Sancti Roberti heremita apud 
Knaresburg, cujus tumba oleum medicinale fertur abun- 
datur emisse." Walbran thinks that the source of this 
supposed " medicinal oil " may probably be referred " to 
the solution of the resinous substance with which the 
cover to the grave may have been fixed." 

* In Morley Church, near Derby, there is a window of six lights 
filled with scenes from the Life of St. Eobert of Knaresborough. 


The list of cures wrought at the tomb is a long- one ; let 
it suffice to give the closing lines of one of the lives of 
the Saint; 

" And to conclude them all in sere, 
All that had hurt anywhere, 
Or any sickness, all were saved, 
This heal, because they of him craved. 
They may be glad, and blithe that has 
Syke a patron of their place." 

How long Ivo, who succeeded St. Robert in the 
hermitage, lived, there is no record. In 1227 A.D. Henry 
III. " granted and confirmed to brother Ivo, hermit of the 
Holy Cross at Cnaresburg, and his successors, forty acres 
of land in Swinesco, which his father, King John, had 
given to brother Robert, formerly hermit of the same 

Ivo appears, however, to have had no regular successor, 
and the property of the cell fell into the hands of the lord 
of the forest, or manor, under the king. This, in 1257 
A.D. was the Earl of Cornwall, who in that year founded 
at Knaresborough a society called the Friars of the Order 
of the Holy Trinity, whose object seems to have been 
similar to that of St. Robert. Upon this society the earl 
bestowed " the chapel of St. Robert, and all that land 
which King John gave the said Robert in his lifetime." 
And upon a portion of the land, a fair meadow by the 
river and under the shelter of the cliffs, about midway 
between St. Robert's Chapel and St. Robert's Cave, 
the society erected their priory. The foundation is also 
frequently designated " The Minister and Brethren of St. 
Robert of Knaresborough." Their revenues were divided 
into three parts, one for their own support, one to relieve 
the poor, and the third to redeem such Christians as should 
be captive in the hands of the heathen in foreign lands. 

The house does not appear to have increased very much 
in wealth. At the time of its suppression in 1539 A.D., it 
consisted of a prior (Thomas Kent) and five brethren, the 
annual revenue being estimated at but 30 10s. lid., in 


addition to which, however, the minister and brethren 
possessed the right of patronage of the three forest 
churches, viz., Fewston, Hampsthwaite, and Pannal, and 
of one other besides, Whixley. 

The only remains of this priory now left are a small 
portion of the foundations, and some carved stones 
scattered about, or incorporated in, the adjoining farm- 
house and buildings. 

The example here given is a fair picture of hermit life 
in this country before the Reformation, and of the manner 
in which such recluses were regarded and dealt with by 
the people. Much that is incredulous in the records, 
which have been preserved to us, may be explained and 
accounted for, without necessarily concluding that the 
subjects of them were all hypocrites or wilful deceivers. 
They probably themselves believed the marvels which 
they are said to have wrought. Their lives at least 
fulfilled a want, taught a needed lesson, and counteracted 
a danger to which a lawless age was especially prone, the 
lesson that there is for man " another life," and the danger 
that there is to man, left to his own ways, of forgetting 
that there is another life. 

As to the men who recorded the lives and legends of 
the holy men, they no doubt believed what they wrote ; 
and they wrote in the full conviction that others would 
believe them also. And so others did believe them, and 
took them as matters of fact, according to which they 
practically ruled their lives, and according to which the 
lives of the nation were more or less ruled. 

But these men, having done their work, have with their 
influence, for a time at least, passed away, 

" The old order changed giving place to the new ; 
And God fulfilled Himself in many ways." 

Whether finally changed and passed away or not may be 
doubtful. " An age," to use the words of the late Canon 
Kingsley "an age of luxury and unbelief has been 
succeeded, more than once in history, by an age of 



remorse and superstition. Gay gentlemen and ladies may 
renounce the world as they did in the time of old, when 
the world is ready to renounce them. We have already 
our nunneries, our monasteries, of more creeds than one ; 
and the mountains of Kerry, or the pine forests of the 
Highlands, may some day once more hold hermits, 
persuading themselves to believe, and at last succeeding 
in believing, the teaching of St. Anthony, instead of that 
of our Lord Jesus Christ, and of that Father of the 
spirits of all flesh, who made love, and marriage, and little 
children, and sunshine, and flowers, the wings of butter- 
flies and the song of birds ; who rejoices in His own 
works, and bids all who truly reverence Him to rejoice in 
them with Him. This is not more impossible than many 
religious phenomena seemed forty years ago, which are 
now no fancies, but powerful facts." 



' BeUa ! horrida bella ! " 
(Wars ! horrid wars !) 

jjICTORIOUS Roman legions have, in the far off 
days when Rome was the mistress of the world, 
tramped through this district, then almost forest 
primeval. Prom Olicana, (Ilkley) over the moors by Mid- 
dleton, and across the Washburn, between Bluberhouses 
and Cragg Hall, then away by Ketelsiug Hea'd, to 
Isurium, (Aldborough) ran one military road ; and again 
from Cataractonium, (Catterick) by Ripley, and Harlow, 
and Rigton, and Castley, to Burgadunurn, (Adel) are to be 
traced the remains of another. 

At Bank, or Bank Slack, near Norwood, and at other 
places, there are earthworks of probably British origin. 
These, if not military camps, must have been works of 
defence for the native villages or encampments : and thus 
indicate wars, or states of disturbance and unrest, the 
memory, or record, of which has passed away. 

In more historic times, the forest as a Royal Forest 
had, in all probability, its origin in the devastations of war. 

It was in 1069 A.D., that the Norman William, provoked 
by the rebellion of the men of Yorkshire and Durham, 
against his newly established rule, swore his favourite 
oath, " by the splendour of God," he would exterminate 
the whole inhabitants of the district. In that and the 


succeeding 1 year he proceeded to do it. From York to 
Durham he ravaged the country, sparing- nothing-. Houses 
and churches and villag-es were swept away. The women, 
the aged, and the children who escaped death at the hands 
of his soldiers or executioners, were left homeless, food- 
less, and friendless, to die of cold and famine. By one 
means or another 100,000 persons are said to have 
perished. " It was a horrible spectacle," says an old 
chronicler, (Roger Hovedon), " to see on the high roads, 
and public places, and at the doors of houses, human 
bodies eaten by worms, for there remained no one to 
cover them with a little earth." 

For nine or ten years, the country remained perfectly 
desolate. William of Malmsbury another chronicler 
writing of it during those years, says, " Should any 
stranger now see it, he laments over the once magnificent 
cities, the towers threatening heaven with their loftiness, 
the fields abundant in pasturage and watered by rivers, 
and if any inhabitant remains, he knows it no longer." 
Thus during those years, and, in some parts, for many 
years longer, the ground remained untilled, for there was 
not a man to till it. 

That some of the remote parts of the district, now the 
forest, escaped the worst sufferings of this devastating 
war from their remoteness, and the scantiness of their 
human inhabitants is probable ; but that other parts 
suffered severely perhaps the full force of it is certain. 

Doomsday Book, completed some ten or twelve years 
afterwards, is evidence indisputable. There, of Bilton, 
parts of Brame and Rossett, of Beckwith, of Killinghall, 
of Clint, and of Rigton, the entry is " Wastum est," 
" It is waste." In these places, we may safely con- 
clude, were witnessed all the horrors of which the old 
chroniclers speak. Other places show a depreciation in 
value from the times of Edward the Confessor. 

The greater part of the forest lands then belonged to 
the king, or to Giselbert Tyson. Those of Tyson were 
afterwards forfeited to the king's successor, Rufus. This 


state of things no doubt prepared the way, for the forma- 
tion of the district, into a Royal Forest, probably early in 
Henry I.'s reign. 

We pass over the disturbed times of Stephen, of Richard 
I., and of John. Sir Walter Scott, in Ivanhoe, graphically 
pictures the social state in that period. There is no reason 
to suppose the forest escaped the lawlessness any more 
than other parts of the country did. And there, as else- 
where, obtained, 

" The good old rule, 
The simple plan, 

That they should take, who have the power, 
And they should keep who can." 


At the time of the Scottish wars of the Edwards, the 
forest was, as a forest, at its best estate ; though more 
than once it suffered severely at the hands of the northern 

On Midsummer Day, 1314, A.D., was fought the disas- 
trous battle of Bannockburn. Who does not remember 
Bruce's address to his army, as given by Scotland's 
immortal bard ? 

Scots, wha hae wi' Wallace bled, 
Scots, wham Bruce has aften led, 
Welcome to your gory bed, 
Or to victory ! 

Now's the day, and now's the hour ; 
See the front o' battle lour : 
See approach proud Edward's power 
Chains and slavery ! 

Wha will be a traitor knave ? 
Wha can fill a coward's grave ? 
Wha sae base as be a slave ? 
Let him turn and flee ! 

Wha for Scotland's king and law 
Freedom's sword will strongly draw, 
Freeman stand, or freeman fa', 
Let him follow me ! 


By oppression's woes and pains ! 

By your sons in servile chains ! 

We will drain our dearest veins, 

But they shall be free ! 

Lay the proud usurpers low ! 
Tyrants fall in every foe ! 
Liberty's in every blow ! 
Let us do or dee. 

The Scotch, under Bruce, completely defeated the 
English under the weak Edward II. The king and his 
army fled, and the north of England was left for several 
years undefended to the ravages of the victors. 

In the spring of 1318 A.D., they poured into this part 
of Yorkshire under Sir James Douglas. Northallerton 
and Boroughbridge were burnt ; Ripon was saved by the 
inhabitants paying a ransom of 1000 marks an enormous 
sum in those days, and Knaresborough was taken and 
burnt. The tower of the church still bears the marks of 
the fire kindled against it, in the vain hope of bringing it 
to the ground, and destroying the fugitives who had taken 
shelter therein. 

The forest suffered terribly as the invaders swept 
through it, and the neighbouring districts, to Skipton. 
Holinshead says, " After they had tarried here (at Ripon) 
three daies they departed thence and went to Knaresbro', 
which town they burnt, and beating the ivoods, into the 
ivliich the people were withdrawn -with their goods and cattell, 
then fft a great bootie, and returning home by Scipton in 
Craven, they first spoiled the towne, and after burnt it, and 
so marching through the countrie came back into Scotland 
with their spoiles and prisoners without anie resistance." 

After this raid, nearly all the townships in the forest 
petitioned the king, for a remission of taxation, on the 
plea that, their houses had been burned, and their cattle 
and goods plundered by the Scots. Knaresbro', Scriven, 
Boroughbridge, Minskip, Timble, Fewston, Thruscross, 
Menwith, Clint, Felliscliff, Birstwith, Hampsthwaite, Kil- 
linghall, Rosehurst, Bilton and Nidd, all petitioned for 
remission. And, after inquiry made, the king returned 


answer to his taxing 1 officers at Knaresbro' : " We there- 
fore, pitying their desolate and depressed condition, forgive 
them the farms and rents which they are bound to pay to 
us, at the term of St. Michael last past ; which amount to 
the sum of sixty and twelve pounds three shillings and 
sevenpence, as by the aforesaid investigation more fully 
appears. And, therefore, we command you fully to 
discharge the said tenants from their farms and rents due 
to us, even so far as the before-mentioned sum.'' 

For the same reason, the Abbot and brethren of 
Fountains Abbey excused their tenants in Rigton and 
Stainburn from payment of rents. 

The churches and church property suffered equally with 
the rest. 

At Pannal the invaders took up their abode in the 
church, and burnt it when they departed. 

The response to a mandate, by Archbishop Melton, for a 
re-taxation of the churches destroyed and wasted by the 
Scots, states, " Eccle de Pannail ad nihil taxatur, quia Scoti 
ibi hospitabantur, et combusserunt in recessu duo." (Reg. 
7 Aug., 1318.) 

Hampsthwaite Benefice was valued in 1292 A.D. (Pope 
Nicholas's taxation) at 5, but in 1318 A.D. at nothing, 
" owing to the ravages of the Scots." 

Fewston, the third Forest Benefice, in 1292 A.D. was 
worth 20 per annum, but in 1318 A.D. only one-third of 
that sum, viz., 6 13s. 4d., no doubt for the same reason. 

We may be sure it was long before the foresters of those 
days forgot the terrible devastation wrought by these 
northern neighbours ! No memorial of the scourge, how- 
ever, now remains, so far as the writer is aware, unless the 
memory still lingers in the name of a lane at Thurscross, 
called the Scots lane. 

Passing over more than a century let us hope, of peace 
we come to the year 1439 A.D., when the foresters 
entered into a small war on their own account. 


It would seem that, as free foresters or King's tenants, 
they claimed exemption from all tolls and charges on their 
goods at the markets throughout the kingdom. The tolls 
at Otley and Ripon, the two nearest market towns, belonged 
to the Archbishop of York, whose officers disputed the 
foresters' claims, and attempted to collect from them the 
lawful charges. Then, on July 22nd, the forest men, to 
the number of 700, with the tacit consent of Sir William 
Plumpton, chief forester, and under the lead of Thos. Beck- 
with, John Fauks, William Wakefield, and John Beckwith, 
of Killinghall, " in manner of war and riotous- wise, entered 
the town of Otley, during the fair then being held, and put 
the Archbishop's officers in great fear, and told them that 
they should not take, ask, nor receive any toll of any men 
of the said forest." The dispute went on evidently very 
11 riotous-wise" on the foresters' part, until May, 1441 A. D., 
when the Archbishop determined to assert his authority at 
the fair then to be held at Ripon. For this purpose he 
gathered a large number of men from Tynedale, Hexham, 
Otley, and other places, and " kept the towne of Ripon like 
a towne. of warr," against the foresters ; and the Arch- 
bishop's men " went roving up the said towne, and downe, 
and they said openly (it was the most continuall language 
they had during the said faire), ' Would God these knaves 
and lads of the forest would come hider, that we might 
have a faire day upon them ! ' and other words of great 
scorne, rebuke and provoking." The forest knaves and 
lads, however, did not that day give them their chance ; 
but two days afterwards, May the 5th, 1441 A.D., they, 
under Thos. Beckwith, John Fauks, and Ralph Pulleine, 
laid wait for them at Boroughbridge, and Thornton Bridge, 
near there, as they went on their way to York, and gave 
them such a warm reception, that some " escaped down a 
long straite lane, and some by breaking of a hedge into a 
field, upon whom the said misdoers (foresters) followed, 
and drove them into a mire-more neere hand, the space of 
half-a-mile fro' Helperby, noising and crying, ' Sley the 
Archbishop's carles,' and ' Would God we had the Arch- 


bishop here.' In the which pursuits, assaulte and shote, 
there was slain by the said misdoers, one Thomas Hunter, 
gentleman, and one Thomas Roper, yeoman, servants of the 
Cardinal Archbishop." The matter would appear to have 
been, in the end, amicably settled between the contending 
parties, for nothing further seems to have come of it. 


Next came the disastrous Wars of the Roses. The 
battle, in which the forest men were most concerned, was 
that of Towton, or Saxton Field, fought on March 29th, 
Palm Sunday, 1461 A.D. 

" Towton -we now approach, of sanguine slain, 
A woe-worn village, weeping o'er its plain. 
No laurel here shall emblematic grow, 
No verdant wreath bedeck the victor's brow. 
Erase, ye demons foul, the tragic page ; 
Hide from the muse's ken your hostile rage ; 
Where horror vaunts each character of death, 
In all the attitudes of parting breath ; 
And grimly dreadful stalks the mourning ground, 
Promiscuous dealing havoc wide around ; 
Bid Cock's pure stream with civil gore to glide, 
And Wharfe, a peeress of the liquid tribe." 


Henry VI. lay at York. Edward IV., with the king- 
maker, Warwick, was advancing northwards to meet him. 
On the 1 2th of March, Henry issued an order from York to 
Sir William Plumpton, Sir Richard Tunstall, and Sir Thomas 
Tresham, " to summon all liege men of the forest and demesne 
of Knaresboroitgh, and to set out with them to meet the 
enemy." On the following day, March the 13th, a second 
order followed, and straitly charged " our trusty and well- 
beloved knight, Sir William Plumpton, to repair to the 
Royal presence with the array, in all haste possible." We 
can well imagine how, from village to village, and from 
hamlet to hamlet, flew the messengers on this occasion, 
summoning the forest to arms ! 


" Ah ! then and there was hurrying to and fro, 
And gathering tears, and tremblings of distress ! 


And there was mounting in hot haste ; the steed, 
The mustering squadron, and the clattering car, 
Went pouring forth with impetuous speed, 
And swiftly forming in the ranks of war." 

Sir William Plumpton, with his son and heir, and their 
forest array, joined the army on the Lancastrian side 
within a few days ; and on the 29th the opposing forces 
met 100,000 Englishmen ! on Towton Field, near Tad- 

" "Where the red rose and the white rose 
In furious battle reel'd ; 
And yeomen fought like barons, 
And barons died ere yield. 

Where mingling with the snowstorm, 
The storm of arrows flew; 
And York against proud Lancaster 
His ranks of spearmen threw. 

Where thunder like the uproar 
Outshook from either side, 
As hand to hand they battled 
From morn till eventide. 

Where the river ran all gory, 
And in hillocks lay the dead, 
And seven and thirty thousand 
Fell from the white and red." 

Sixty thousand Red-rose Lancastrians met forty thousand 
White-rose Yorkists. All the evil passions aroused by ten 
years of civil war were focussed on this field. It was a 
stern hand-to-hand fight, begun in a blinding snowstorm, 
in the narrow valley of the Cock. No quarter was given ; 
the snow became crimson with blood, and the waters of 
the rivulet were tinged with it when they entered the 
Wharfe, two miles distant. Thirty-six thousand men were 
left dead and dying when that Sunday evening closed ! 
Who remembers not Shakespeare's description of the 
scene ! 


King ''Now sways it this way like a mighty sea, 
Henry VI. Forced by the tide to combat with the wind; 
"Now sways it that way, like the self-same sea, 
Forced to retire by fury of the wind : 
Sometime the flood prevails ; and then the wind ; 
Now, one the better; then, another best; 
Both tugging to be victors, breast to breast, 
Yet neither conqueror, nor conquered ; 
So is the equal poise of this fell war. 
*** ### ### 

Enter a son that has killed his father, dragging in the dead body. 
Son. Ill blows the wind that profits nobody, 

This man, whom hand to hand I slew in fight, 
May be possessed with some store of crowns. 
**# # # # *** 

Who's this ? O God ! it is my father's face, 
Whom in this conflict I un'wares have kill'd ; 
O heavy times begetting such events ! 
From London by the King was I presssed forth ; 
My father, being the Earl of Warwick's man, 
Came on the part of York, pressed by his master ; 
And I, who at his hands received my life, 
Have, by my hands, of life bereaved him 
Pardon me, God, I knew not what I did ! 
And pardon, father, for I knew not thee ! 
*** *** #** 

Enter a father who has killed his son, with the body in his arms. 
Father. Thou, that so stoutly has resisted me, 

Give me thy gold, if thou hast any gold : 
For I have bought it with an hundred blows, 
But let me see : is this our foeman's face ? 
Ah, no, no, no, it is mine only son ! 
*** ### ### 

O, pity, God, this miserable age ! 
What stratagems, how fell, how butcherly, 
Erroneous, mutinous, unnatural, 
This deadly quarrel daily doth beget ! 
O, boy, thy father gave thee life too soon, 
And hath bereft thee of thy life too late ! 

The white rose prevailed ; the Lancastrians were defeated 
and fled. How many of the forest men fell, we know not, 
but we are certain it must have been many. Their young 
leader, the son and heir of Sir William Plumpton, was 
slain, and Sir William himself taken prisoner. We may be 


sure many forest homes were desolate ; that many hus- 
bands, fathers, sons and brothers, friends and lovers, never 
returned ; and that the Easter of that year was one of 
lamentation and woe. The wail of the forester of the 
north after Flodden, would well have applied to Knares- 
borough Forest after Towton 

" I have heard of a lilting, at our ewes milking, 
Lasses a lilting, before the break of day ; 
But now there's a moaning, on ilka green loaning, 
That our braw foresters are a' wede away. 

At boughts, in the morning, nae blythe lads are scorning ; 

The lasses are lonely, dowie, and wae; 

Nae daffin, nae gabbin, but sighing o,nd sabbing ; 

Ilka ane lifts her leglen, and hies her away. 

At e'en at the gloaming, nae swankies are roaming 
'Mong stacks, with the lasses, at bogle to play ; 
But ilka ane sits dreary, lamenting her deary, 
The Flowers of the Forest that are a' wede away. 

At harrest, at the shearing, nae youngsters are jeering, 
The bansters are rankled, lyart and grey ; 
At a fair, or a preaching, nae wooing, nae Seeching, 
Since our braw foresters are a' wede away. 

O dool for the order, sent our lads to the border : 
The English, for anes, by guile gat the day. 
The Flowers of the Forest, that ay shone the foremost, 
The prime of our land, lies cauld in the clay. 

We'll hear nae mair lilting, at our ewes milking, 
The women and bairns are dowie, and wae, 
Sighing and moaning, on ilka green loaning, 
Since our braw foresters are a' wede away." 

RIOT IN 1489 A.D. 

Twenty-nine years afterwards, viz., 1489 A.D., the men 
of the forest were again summoned to arms, this time by 
Sir Robert Plumpton, the master forester, and Sir William 
Gascoigne, to assist the Earl of Northumberland, then 
threatened by rebels at his seat at Topcliffe. 

Henry Percy, the fourth Earl, as Lord-Lieutenant of 
Yorkshire, was the unwilling agent of Henry VII., or 


rather of his ministers, Empson and Dudley, in the attempt 
to enforce an unpopular poll-tax, for raising a subsidy to 
France. He protested to the King against it. To 
his protest came the reply, that " not a penny should 
be abated, and that he must see to its exaction to 
the uttermost farthing." The men of the neighbour- 
hood of Thirsk were specially active in opposition. 
The Earl, however, called a meeting there ; and it was 
probably in anticipation of disturbance on this occasion 
that the forest men were summoned. The Earl rode 
into the town surrounded by a body of the gentlemen 
of the county and retainers, and was received with mingled 
cheers and hisses. The reading of the King's message, 
however, so incensed the populace, that a riot commenced. 
Northumberland and his friends retired with all haste to his 
house at Topcliffe, four miles distant. But the incensed 
mob followed, and, probably before the great body of his 
defenders could be gathered, the house was broken into, 
and the Earl, and many of his household and friends 

" Trustinge in noblemen, that wer with, hym there, 

Bot all they fled from hym for falsehode or fere. 
* 41 #*# #** 

All left alone, alas ! he fawte in vayne ; 

For cruelly amonge them ther he was slayiie." 


What part the foresters played on this occasion is 
uncertain. It is scarcely probable, however, that they 
turned traitors ; for at the final suppression of the 
insurrection, which began with this riot, at the Battle of 
Ackworth in 1492 A.D., Sir Robert Plumpton was present, 
and we may well infer his forest followers also, and took 
part on the Royal side. 


Few incidents connected with the forest in the Civil 
Wars in the 17th century, appear on record. Possibly 
it was in the happy position of having no history 


during that time. Royalist and Republican garrisons were 
in the neighbourhood at Knaresborough, and at Skipton 
and made occasional raids upon the foresters. In 1644 
A.D., such a raid was made upon Swinden Hall, the 
residence of Walter Bethell, Esq., by a party from the 
Royalist garrison at Knaresborough, who plundered the 
place of all available property, and totally destroyed the 

In the previous year (1643 A.D.), according to an old 
tract of that date, the same party were guilty of outrages 
at Otley, and on the open parts of the forest. " The last 
week, there is a garrison of horse and foot layd at Knaresbro', 
where they began to fortify the town, and pillage and 
utterly ruin all the religious people in those parts and round 
about them. On Friday seven-night last, three troops, and 
some other forces, of which many were French, came from 
the garrison and pillaged Otley, and there barbarously used 
some honest women of that town ; and in their retreat to 
Knaresbro', upon the open forest they took a man and a 
woman, the man they wounded, and beat cruelly, and 
before his eyes ravished the woman." 

Charles Fairfax, of Menston, in a letter to Lord 
Ferdinand Fairfax, dated January 6th, 1640 A.D., (Fairfax 
correspondence) mentions the presence of a body of military 
in the forest, of whom the foresters had mistrust. " Upon 
Christmas Eve last, was brought into the parish of 
Fewston, Captain Langley's Company, heretofore billeted 
about Harrogate, but now unequally dispersed in that 
parish. They had no good report before they came, 
yet I hear not of any great enormity since their coming 
though they be many weeks behind with their pay, for 
which they have their Captain (a man of ill government 
still at Harrogate) in suspicion. The Lieutenant, Captain 
Rouse, a complete gentleman, who has served as Major at 
the Isle of Rhe, has a special care and vigilant eye on 
them. It is much to be feared we shall have ill neighbours 
in them, and when their landlord's provisions fail them, 
that they will cater for themselves." 



About this time, and probably by these " ill neighbours," 
an attack was made upon Cragg Hall, near Fewston. It 
belonged at this time to the Rev. Henry Fairfax, and, 
in all probability, it was some sturdy puritan tenant of his, 
who (according to tradition), had declared of the marau- 
ders, that, " their hearts were as withered as Jeroboam's 
hand," an indiscreet speech, which, when reported to them 
drew attention to his dwelling, and led to the plunder of his 
goods, and probably would also have led to the loss of his 
life, had not one of the recesses of the old hall afforded him 
an asylum which eluded all their researches. The ancient 
oak door, still in situ, with its massive bolt, resisted all 
efforts at ingress that way, and still bears the honourable 
scars inflicted at the time. Ingress, however, was gained 
otherwise, and the place pillaged and robbed. A valuable 
stud of horses, tradition says, alone was saved, by their 
being hid in a thick grove of alders by the river a short 
distance away. 

. In 1644 A.D. took place the fatal battle fatal to the 
Royalist cause of Marston Moor, near York, when 

" On Marston Heath 
Met front to front the ranks of death ; 
Flourished the trumpets fierce, and now 
Fixed was each eye, and flushed each brow ; 
On either side loud clamours ring 
' God save the Cause ! ' ' God save the King ! ' 
Eight English all they rushed to blows, 
With all to win, or all to lose." 

After the battle, the Royalist garrison at York was per- 
mitted to retire to Skipton. Sir Henry Slingsby, of 
Scriven, relates in his Diary with regard to them, " Upon 
Knaresborough Forest we made a handsome show with those 
troops of our guard, for we marched with their colours, but 
not with above six or seven score men, namely: one of 
Col. Titmas's, one of Sir William Girlington's, and one of 
mine, with such only of the Prince's {Rupert's) men as 
were left in York, and Sir Thomas Glenham's nine colours." 
Since those unhappy times, now two hundred and forty 
years ago, the Forest has known, by experience, none of 


the miseries of war; and long may it continue to know 
nothing of them ; and long may each forester be spared to 
dwell under his vine and his fig tree, and 

" From toil to win his spirit's light, 
From busy day, the peaceful night; 
Rich, from the very want of wealth, 
In Heaven's best treasure, peace and health." 




sheltered vales, or mid green meadows wide, 
Ivy-clad, or grey, the mouldering ruins stand, 
Rich in historic lore ; in death e'en grand ! 
By crystal Wharf, or rapid Derwent's side, 
By Skell's fair stream, or Ure, or Rye's clear tide, 
Pair Bolton ; Fountains, Jervaulx, Bella-land,* 
Rievaulx, and Hilda's House by Whitby strand, 
A past re-call our age may not deride. 

The pious zeal that gave, the skilful hand 
That reared, the fertile brain that rev'rent 


The massive tower, and arch, and long drawn aisle, 
Yet live, and speak, in every sacred pile; 

Their silent tongues rebuke the mammon greed, 
Which chills the zeal of a far purer creed. 

* Bella-land the mediaeval name of Byland, 



"An illustrious house, a house that for learning and valour 
has no peer among the families of Yorkshire." Canon Raine. 

Walks tnrough the City of York," by the late 
Robert Davis, F.S.A., lately published by his widow, 
we are told, that, early in the 13th century, one of 
the magnates of that city resided in a house in Nether or 
Lower Ousegate, near the foot of Ouse Bridge. It was a 
stone house, and so a house of importance in those days, 
when stone houses were rare. The name of this city 
magnate was, AA r illiam Fairfax. His son, also named 
William, was more than once bailiff of York an office 
next in dignity to the mayoralty. The father was un- 
doubtedly an opulent citizen, though his name does not 
appear as the holder, at any time, of any municipal office. 
He was farmer of the Royal Mint, in York, and had 
considerable property in the city. Before the close of the 
reign of King John (1216 A.D.) he possessed also estates 
in the Ainsty. 

"Now this gentleman," continues Mr. Davis, "is, I 
think, memorable for this reason. He was the progenitor 
the earliest ancestor of whom we have any account, the 
stock from which sprang all the branches, of the great 
Yorkshire family of Fairfax, a family of whom the county, 
and indeed the whole kingdom, has reason to be proud. 
And we, citizens of York, may perhaps be allowed to 
share that pride, when we reflect that the many illustrious 


persons who bore the name of Fairfax all trace their 
origin to one, who was a merchant of York, and dwelt in 
the street of Nether Ousegate, in the parish of St. Michael 
at Usebrig end, six centuries and a half ago." 

It is by no means the object of the present writer to 
even sketch the history of this illustrious family. This 
has already been done by other and abler pens. But, "a 
forester " may venture to advance, on behalf of his fellow 
foresters, a claim to a share in that pride which Mr. Davis 
claims for his fellow citizens of York seeing how closely 
several members of the family have been connected with 
the forest. 

At Walton, near Tadcaster, and Steeton in the Ainsty, 
and the neighbourhood, the family has flourished from the 
time of this William of York, to this day. 

At the beginning of the 16th century there was again a 
William, Sir William Fairfax of Steeton. Then a young 
man he, under romantic circumstances, succeeded in 
carrying off, from the care of the Abbess of Nun- Appleton, 
a youthful heiress Isabella Thwaites, to whom he was 
married at Bolton Percy in 1518 A.D. This lady brought, 
to her husband, among other possessions, her ancestral 
domain of Denton in- Wharf edale. 

The eldest surviving son of this match, Thomas Fairfax, 
born 1521 A.D. inherited Denton, and resided there. 
Among his seven sons and five daughters, were Thomas his 
successor, and Edward the poet and translator of Tasso, of 
whom more will be found elsewhere. He appears to have 
been the first of the family to acquire any direct interest 
in the Forest of Knaresborough. New Hall, near Fewston, 
in a detached part of the parish of Otley, was the first 
possession. How, or at what date, acquired is not 
ascertained. It previously belonged to the ancient and 
influential forest family of Pulleine. The first mention 
found of it belonging to the Fairfaxes, is when Sir Thomas 
Fairfax, by will dated 1599 A.D., left it, at the request of 
his eldest son Sir Thomas, to Edward Fairfax, the poet, 
who soon afterwards took up his abode there. 


Sir Thomas Fairfax the elder, died in 1599 A.D. and was 
succeeded by his son, the second of that name, who had 
married in 1582 A.D. Ellen, daughter of Robert Aske, of 
Aughton. In" 1627 A.D. he was created Baron (or Lord) 
Fairfax of Cameron. Of a family of twelve children, of 
whom three sons were slain in the wars abroad, and a 
fourth died also abroad, there were three who claim our 
attention on account of their after connection with the 
forest. These were, Ferdinando, who succeeded his father 
as second Lord Fairfax, Henry, the fourth son, and Charles, 
the ninth son. 

After the loss of his other, his soldier-sons, about 1621 
A.D. the bereaved father seems to have thought some- 
what lightly of the survivors. Dr. Matthews, Archbishop 
of York remarked to him, on one occasion, " I have great 
reason to sorrow with respect to my sons ; one having wit 
and no gracs, and another having grace and no wit, and a 
third neither grace nor wit to guide him aright." "May 
it please your grace," replied Fairfax, " Your case is sad 
but not singular ; I am also grievously disappointed in my 
sons. One (Ferdinando) I sent to the Netherlands to train 
him for a soldier, and he makes a tolerable country justice, 
but is a mere coward at fighting ; niy next (Henry) I sent 
to Cambridge, and he proves a good lawyer, but a mere 
dunce at Divinity ; and my youngest (Charles) I sent to 
the Inns of Court, and he is a good divine, but nobody at 
the law." He had hope, which was somewhat shaken 
before he died however, of his then young grandson the 
future Parliamentary General, for he was heard about this 
time to call aloud to him, " Tom, Tom, mind thou the 
battle; thy father is a good man, but a mere coward at 
fighting. All the good I expect, is from thee." 


At the close of the 16th Century, and the beginning of 
the 17th, there was residing at Scough, or Skow, Hall 


one of the several " Halls " which had been erected in the 
forest towards the end of Elizabeth's reign, a family of 
good position, and not unknown in county history 
named Brearhaugh or Breary. They were also the owners 
of Menstone Hall, in Wharfedale. 

In 1G13 A.D. (or 1608 A.D.), John Breary, the last of his 
name at Scough, died. A rough grit stone tomb to his 
memory bearing in rude letters, the inscription " JHON 
BEEAEY, DIED 1613," is still to be seen in Fewston church- 
yard. He left a widow with an only child, Mary, then very 
young. For some reason, the widow and child would 
appear to have preferred another residence than Scough 
Hall. Possibly they retired to Menstone, and hence the 
ancestral home in the Forest was " to Let." 

In 1607 A.D. Sir Ferdinando Fairfax, coward though 
his father thought him in fighting, had made a grand 
marriage by his union with Mary, daughter of Lord 
Sheffield, President of the North. During the first few 
years after the marriage the. young couple appear to 
have resided at York, where their two elder children 
(daughters) were born. In 1612 A.D. we find them 
at their father's house at Denton, where was born in 
that year their eldest son Thomas, \vho ultimately succeeded 
his father as the 3rd Lord Fairfax, but is better known as 
the great Parliamentary General. 

Sir Ferdinaudo and his wife were evidently, however, 
looking out for a house of their own, and, in the following- 
year, 1613 A.D. we find them with their young family, 
including the afterwards renowned " Tom," residing at 
Scough Hall; in all probability tenants to the widow and 
child of John Breary. An inducement to take up their 
abode here, may have been the proximity of Scough to 
Newhall, already the residence of the learned poet and 
tutor of the 'family, Sir Ferdinando's uncle, Edward 

At Scough were born three children, a daughter, 
Elizabeth, in 1613 A.D. who afterwards married Sir 
William Craven, of Lenchurch in Gloucestershire ; a son, 


Charles, in 1614 A.D. and another daughter, Mary, in 
1616 A.D. afterwards wife of Henry Arthington, Esq., 
of Arthington. 

The baptism of the son, Charles, at Fewston Church, on 
March 26th, 1614 A.D. was the occasion of a gathering of 
notables such as the old Parish Church has rarely, if ever, 
before or since, seen. There would be old Sir Thomas, 
the grandfather from Denton, Sir Ferdinando, the father, 
and his aristocratic wife, Edward the great uncle, of 
Newhall. Sir Guy Palmes, of Lindley, Walter Hawksworth, 
Esq. of Hawksworth, were the Godfathers; and the 
child's aunt another daughter of the Lord President of 
the North was Godmother. And may not the illustrious 
Tom, " a wee toddling thing " of two and a half or three 
years old, have been there also, a spectator of his 
baby brother's baptism ? How little could that august 
gathering foresee the fatal day on Marston Moor, just 
thirty -years afterwards, when the elder brother was 
chiefly instrumental in annihilating the power of his 
sovereign, and the younger this Forest-born son of the 
family, was mortally wounded, and, five days afterwards 
died, on, or near, the battle field ! 

Five or six years was the extent of Sir Ferdinando's 
residence at Scough. About 1617 A.D. he purchased 
Steeton the old family mansion in the Ainsty, from 
another branch of the family, and removed thither with his 
wife and children. 

Did that delicate lad whom he bore away with him 
from the scenes of his early years at Scough, one is 
tempted to ask, did he remember those scenes in after 
years, when England's greatest poet sang of him 

" Fairfax, whose name in arms through Europe rings, 
Filling each mouth with envy and with praise, 
And all her jealous Monarchs with amaze, 

And rumours loud, that daunt remotest Kings. 

Thy firm, unshaken virtue ever brings 

Victory home, though now rebellions raise 
Their hydra-heads, and the false North displays, 

Her broken league to imp their serpent wings!" 


Yes, did he in those times of greatness, ever think of his 
early boyhood at Scough of riding his first pony across 
Rowtou Wath and over Swinsty Moor, or along Smithson 
lane and by the humble thatched vicarage, on his way to 
receive his first lessons from his learned great-uncle at 
Newhall? Or did he recall, sometimes, that gathering of 
kinsfolk and friends around the font in the old Forest 
Church at his sister's, or his baby brother's, baptism ? If 
not in the days of turmoil and strife, perhaps when quieter 
times came, in the retirement and rest of the home of his 
old age at Nun-Appleton he did recall, and recount to his 
unhappy childless only child, the wife of the licentious 
Villiers Duke of Buckingham, of whom it is written that he 

" Never said a foolish thing 

And never did a wise one," 

the scenes and the memories of his childhood's days in the 

From his will made in 1667 A.D. with an addition to it on 
Nov. llth, 1671 A.D. the day before his death, we learn 
that his possessions in the forest consisted of the Manor of 
Rigton with farms there known as " Sproute far me, now in 
the tenure and occupacon of Francis Ingle," and also " one 
called Mawson's farme, now in the tenure and occupacon 
of Thomas Topham or his assignes," and one " other farme 
called Hardistyes farme, now in the tenure of Richard 
Hardistye or his assignes," and also " the other farme at 
Rigton belonging to William Smith, and also the warrant 
upon the Common there.'' He mentions also in the same 
document, "all his right and interest of two leases of the 
Royalties of the Forest of Knaresborough in the Countye 
of Yorke." These properties probably passed ultimately 
to his successors in the title ; but whether they were 
parted with by them earlier, or not until the general sale 
of the Yorkshire estates in 1716 A.D. is not known. In a 
list of the estates sold in 1716 A.D. these are not mentioned 
leading to the inference that this interest in the Forest 
had ceased before that date. Lord Fairfax died Nov. 12th t 
1671 A.D. and was buried at Bolton Percy. 



We may now turn to the second surviving son of Sir 
Thomas Fairfax of Denton and brother of Sir Ferdinando, 
viz: Henry Fairfax, he "who was a good lawyer but a 
mere dunce at divinity." He became closely united, by 
property, and perhaps by occasional residence also, with 
the Forest ; and, in spite of his father's bad opinion of his 
divinity, was the worthy divine of the family. 

Henry was born at Denton in 1588 A.D. and educated at 
Trinity College, Cambridge, of which he became, in 1608 
A.D. a Fellow. He vacated his . fellowship some years 
afterwards and accepted the comparatively poor rectory 
of Ashton-in-Markenfield, in order, there is little doubt, to 
enable him to take into closer fellowship, a worthy 
helpmate, Miss Mary Cholmondeley, daughter of Sir 
Henry Cholmondeley. This also necessitated, with 
his small living, an application for some further allowance 
from his father; and in regard to this business there is 
a characteristic and interesting letter from the lady 
herself to her affianced husband, in the Fairfax 
correspondence. It runs as follows : 
" To my assured loving cousin, Mr. Harry Fairfax, give these. 

" Blessed God, bless our designs, prosper our intentions, and 
consummate oar desires, to His glory and our comforts, if it be His 
blessed will. I am glad to heir your father is so well pleased, and 
wish to see him at York, where I hope by good advice to procure 
the best means to move him for a jointure, which, God knows, is so 
needful for me to demand, as I fear, if I be denied, we shall both 
wish you had not thought me worthy of the titles of (dear love), for 
so dear you are in my esteem as I assure you, you have no cause to 
doubt the continuance of my firm affection. *****! 
would say, ' I wish to see you,' but the weather is so unseasonable 
and the ways so dangerous, by reason of waters, as I will not desire 
it. I will wear your ring till you take it from me. Humbly 
beseeching Almighty God_ to be with you, I commit you to His 
gracious protection, that guides my heart unfeignedly to desire 
myself entirely yours, 


"P.S. My mother remembers her love to you, with many thanks 
for her Christmas provision. My sister Scott commends her 
kindly to you." 


This letter is without date, but was probably written 
shortly before the. marriage in 1627 A.D. 

A spare page in a copy of "The works of William Gouge," 
which belonged to the Earl of Harborough, contains the 
following inscription, showing the book to have been a gift 
about this time from the Rev. Henry, to his betrothed : 

" Yorke, 10th, 18th, Ano. Dmi. 1626. 
" For Mrs. Mary Cholmeley, 


Then follow two anagrams on her name. Here is one of them. 

" Mary Cholmeley. 
Anagram, "Oh, I'm all mercy." 

" M. My hand, my heart, myself, and what doth make it ; 
" C. Claim to be mine, Oh! I'm all mercy, take it." 


There are also three manuscript stanzas in the same book 
which might possibly be of interest to lovers, but space 
forbids their insertion here. 

The book bears on the title page the family motto 
"Fare:Fac," and throughout are copious M.S. notes by 
Henry Fairfax, showing that he had read carefully the 
copy he presented to Mary Cholmeley.* 

The following letter, written to her husband during a 
visit to London some five years after their marriage, 
manifests no abatement in their attachment. 

" To my ever dear loving Mr. Fairfax, parson of Ashton, give 
these : London. 

" My ever dearest Love. 

" I received a letter and horse from Long, on Thursday, 
(Jan. 31st), and will use means to send Procter's horse to Denton. 
I did not so much rejoice at the safe passage, as at that blessed, 
and all-sufficient Guide, whose thou art, and whom I know thou 
truly servest, that hath for a short time parted us, and I firmly 
hope will give us a joyful meeting. Dear heart, take easy 
journeys, and prefer thine own health before all other worldly 
respects whatsoever. Thy three boys at Ashton, are well : thy 
little Harry is weaned ; all that love us pray for thy safe return. 

* Notes and Queries. 3rd Ser., Vol. viii., p. 396. 


I pray thou beg a blessing for us all, for I must needs commit you 
to His gracious protection, that will never fail us nor forsake us. 

" Thine ever, 
" Ashton, Feb. 2, 1632." "-MART FAIRFAX. 

Shortly after this time the Revd. Henry Fairfax was 
transferred to his father's more lucrative but not rich 
living of Newton Kyme near Tadcaster ; and at this place, 
with his estimable wife, he lived in peace through all the 
terrible commotions and Civil Wars to 1646 A.D. his humble 
rectory being " a refuge and a sanctuary to all their 
friends and relations of both sides." Here too the pious, 
gentle, Christian poet and parish priest, George Herbert, 
whose friendship he had formed at Cambridge, often 
visited him. 

It was at this period of his life that Henry Fairfax's 
direct connection with the Forest commenced. We can well 
believe he had often been a visitor in earlier years to his 
brother at Scough ; and possibly he also like his nephew, 
had sat, an apt scholar, at the feet of his great uncle 
at Newhall, but a more direct interest was acquired by him 
in the year 1638 A.D. by the purchase of considerable 
property in the Forest. This was situated on the sunny side 
of the Washburn Valley between Fewston and Bluber- 
house, and included the site of the ancient " Besthaim." 

From documents now in the writer's possession, we 
learn that on the 23rd day of January, 1638 A.D. " Richard 
Bannister de le Cragg, gentleman, and Ellen his wife, John 
Bannister their son and Jana his wife, Ralph Bannister 
younger son of aforesaid Richard, with Marmaduke 
Beckwith of Dacre with Thomas Beckwith his son, and 
Thomas Beckwith of Aldborough, surrendered, in the 
Forest court at Knaresborough, certain lands and houses 
called " Bainbrigg Yeate, Low Cragg," " Beiston," and 
" the Holme and Eshsteades," " scituat, jacentes et 
existentes in hamlata de Fuiston infra villam de Timble et 
Foreseste de Knaresburg," to the use and behoof of 
Henry Fairfax of Newton Kyne, clerk, and his heirs and 
assignes for ever. 


In the following year, viz., June 6th, 1639 A.D. there 
was conveyed to him in like manner by William Frankland, 
knight of Thirklebie, Henry Frankland, Esquire his son, 
and Richard Frankland de Fuiston, gentleman, the adjoining 
estate of " le Cragg," or Cragg Hall, one of the Elizabethan 
Halls of the Forest. 

Thus during the troublous days of the great Civil War, 
and the Commonwealth, the revered Rector of Newton- 
Kyme, uncle of the greatest general in that war, the 
friend of George Herbert, the man of peace and bond of 
union between contending families, was a chief land- 
owner in the Forest ; and possibly, with an estimable and 
pious wife, " Mrs. Mary Chomley," he was an occasional 
resident at Cragg Hall. From a record in the church 
registers of the parish, he f as well as his father, the old 
Lord Fairfax of Denton, still living, was interested in the 
poor of Fewston, and each gave 20s. to their relief. 

He removed in 1646 A.D. from Newton Kyme to the 
richer benefice of Bolton Percy, which he held till the 
restoration (1660 A.D.) and then resigned, and retired to a 
private residence at Oglethorpe, where he died intestate, in 
1665 A.D. His wife had pre-deceased him in 1656 A.D. at 
Bolton Percy, where she was buried, and where an 
expressive epitaph which he caused to be inscribed on her 
tomb to her memory, in the Parish Church of that place, 
may yet be seen. 


We now come to Charles Fairfax, the third of the 
surviving sons of the first lord, and his connection with 
the Forest. He is the one of whom his father said 
" my youngest I sent to the Inns of Court, and he is a 
good divine but nobody at the law." 

The family of Breary of Scough, and Mary Breary the 
sole heiress of it, have been already mentioned in 
connection with Sir Ferdinando Fairfax's residence at that 
place. The young barrister, Charles Fairfax, fresh from 


Lincoln's Inn, came within the attractive influence of 
Mary Breary : and after several years, he and the Forest 
heiress were married, and occasionally dwelt at her Forest 
home. At least one of their numerous family, Charles, who 
diedjn childhood, was born at Scough Hall, and baptized 
in 1628 A.D., at Fewston Church. By this marriage 
Scough and Menstone Halls passed to the Fairfax family. 
The former probably continued to be occupied by the 
mother-in-law, Mrs. Breary, for some years. As late as 
1640 A.D., Charles wrote to his brother, Lord Ferdinando 
Fairfax, " My mother-in-law never before now admitted 
me to any estate at Scoughe." Menston was adopted as 
the ordinarj 7 residence of Charles and his wife. There he 
lived respected, the genealogist and the antiquarian of the 
family. He compiled the '^Analecta Fairfaxiaua," 
containing a full and complete genealogy and sketch of the 
family, a copy of which, if now in existence, is very 
difficult to obtain a sight of. Nor did he altogether abstain 
from public life. Before the battle of Marston Moor, 
Oliver Cromwell spent a day with him at Menstone, 
gaining information from him as to the neighbourhood, 
their consultations being held, so it is said, seated round a 
stone table, since removed to Farnley Hall, and now to be 
seen there. At the time of the Restoration, Charles was a 
colonel in General Monk's army, and also about the same 
time Governor of Hull, from the revenue of the port of 
which Charles the II. granted him a pension. 

Among his numerous family, of fourteen children, were 
the twin sons, John and Henry, born at Menston, October 
20th, 1634 A.D. The two as infants, "and men, were so 
exactly alike as to be undistinguishable by their nearest 
relations. One was a captain in the army, the other 
(Henry) a clergyman, noted for his fearless bearing 
towards Chief Justice Jeffrey in a question of jurisdiction 
in the appointment of a master to Magdalen College, 
Oxford, in the reign of James II, and afterwards Dean of 
Norwich. It frequently happened that the officer was 
addressed as the clergyman ; and soldiers affirmed to the 


divine that they had served under him. The Dean is said 
to have observed, that even their mother was at a loss to 
distinguish them, as he himself had often received presents 
from her that were intended for his brother. 

In a postscript to one copy of the Analecta Fairfaxiana, 
Charles Fairfax has left on record the following- pathetic 
prophetical remarks made to him by his father the aged 
first lord a few months before the death of that nobleman 
in 1640 A.D., expressing his fears as to his grandson, the 
hopeful " Tom " of earlier days. 

" He walking in his great parlour at Denton, I only then 
present, did seem much perplexed and troubled in his 
mind : but after a few turns he broke out into these, or 
the like expressions, ' Charles, I am thinking what will 
become of my family when I am gone ; I have added a 
title to the heir-male of my house, and shall leave a 
competent estate to support it. Ferdinando will keep it, 
and leave it to his son ; but such is Tom's pride, led much 
by his wife, that he, not contented to live in our rank, 
will destroy his house.' " 

The wife of Charles, Mary Breary, died in 1657 A.D. 
and was buried with her family at Fewston, as the 
following entry in the register there, testifies : 

" Mrs. Maria Fairfax, the religious and virtuous wife of 
Charles Fairfax, of Menstone, Esquire, was buried the 21st 
day of October, 1657 A.D." 

Her husband followed her and was interred at the 
same place in 1673 A.D. The event is thus recorded: 
" 1673 A.D., December, Noble Charles Fairfax, of Mens- 
ton, Esquire, was buried, the 22nd day." There is also a 
mural tablet to their memory in Otley Church. - 

Grainge gives a surrender of Scough in 1664 A.D. but it 
was only under a settlement on the marriage of Charles 
Fairfax's eldest son at that date, and the trust was 
afterwards discharged. It was after the death of the 
latter how soon does not appear that Scough was sold 
by his representatives. The hall yet stands, an object of 
interest to Foresters and antiquarians alike. 


New Hall had passed away from Edward's family even 
earlier: and so had Cragg Hall from Henry's. The sale of 
Scough Hall, therefore, (unless the Rigton property of the 
third lord was held until the general breaking up the estate 
in 1714 A.D.) closed the connection with one small 
exception of this illustrious and noble family with 
Knaresborough Forest. 

The exception referred to is mentioned in a surrender in 
the Forest court in 1713 A.D by Thomas Fairfax, Esquire, 
(eldest son of Charles, of Menstone) and Dorothy his wife, 
and Thomas their heir, of " Two acres of land in the 
hamlet of Clifton and vill : of Timble to the use and behoof 
of John (? Stephen) Parkinson his heirs and assigns for 

This last small remnant of large estates and influence 
the writer has been unable to identify. 



, bright Easter morn of the circling year, 
With freshness of waking day, dawns to fill 
With new-life field and garden, copse and gill. 
The very air she breathes, buoyant, fresh, and clear, 
Proclaims the time of buds and flowers here ; 

A welcome crowd, daisy, primrose, daffodil, 
They come, and clothe hedge, mead, and moorland hill, 
With blush of May still wet with April's tear. 
The lambkins sport ; and from thrice happy throats, 
Loud rings the morn with sweetest woodland notes. 
To labour man rejoicing goes, and leaves 
The seed in certain hope of golden sheaves. 
All nature wakes, arises, plumes her wings, 
And new-life's carol with new vigour sings. 



" Edward Fairfax, of Fuyston, Esq., in the forest of Knares- 
borough, brother of Sir Thomas Fairfax, of Denton. He 
translated Godfrey of Boulogne out of Italian into English verse ; 
wrote the History of Edward the Black Prince, and other witty 
eclogues, not printed. He is accounted a singular scholar in all 
kind of learning, and yet liveth, ]631." 

Roger Dodsworth. 

|D WARD FAIRFAX, the poet of " that illustrious 
house," and a member of it who shed a lustre 
upon it, and upon the forest in which he dwelt, 
second only, if even second, to that shed by his grand- 
nephew, the great general in the civil wars, was the son 
of Sir Thomas Fairfax, the first of that name, at Denton. 
Sir Thomas Fairfax's wife, and presumably the mother of 
Edward, was Dorothy, daughter of George Gale, Esq., a 
goldsmith of York, and also of Askham Grange, near 
York. It is said presumably the mother of Edward, because 
a doubt hangs over the legitimacy of his birth, and of that 
of Charles his brother, which, it is feared, may never be 
cleared up. 

The question is an interesting one, and the evidence on 
both sides may be briefly stated thus : 

1. Dodsworth, the antiquarian, who was most intimate 
with the family, especially with the third lord, and died in 
1654 A.D. styles Edward "the natural brother of Sir 
Thomas Fairfax." 



2. In Dugdale's Heraldic Visitation of 1665 A.D. where 
the family pedigree is signed by Charles Fairfax, of Menston, 
his uncles Edward and Charles are given with " wavy '' 
lines, intimating, at least, doubtful legitimacy. 

3. In the Analecta Fairfaxiana, drawn up also by 
Charles Fairfax, and in which the relationship is professed 
to be stated of every member of the family, the issue of 
the first Sir Thomas are given as Thomas, Henry, and 
Ferdinand, two daughters, and then, in a parenthesis, Sir 
Charles, and Edward. 

4. Lord Houghton, in his introduction to a print of the 
Daemonology for the Philobiblion Society, adopts the 
adverse view, and says, " The author (Edward Fairfax), 
though illegitimate, was fully accepted as a member of the 
noble and historic family of Fairfax." 

On the other side of the question it may be said : 

1. That the term " natural brother," applied by Dods- 
worth, frequently, if not invariably, at that period meant 
" true " or " legitimate," or " by blood " as opposed to " by 
affinity." And, also, it is deserving of notice, that Bryan 
Fairfax, a learned and painstaking antiquarian of the 
family, quoting Dodsworth's account of his great relative 
in a letter to Bishop Atterbury, dated January 12th, 
1704-5, A.D. omits the word " natural " altogether ; and 
also states without qualification that Edward was the son 
of Sir Thomas of Denton. 

2. Douglas, in his peerage of Scotland, also, says 
distinctly, that Edward " was born to Sir Thomas by 
Dorothy his wife, daughter of George Gale, of Askham 
Grange, Esquire. 

3. The will of Sir Thomas, the father, made a few days 
before his death in 1599 A.D. and now in the Will Office, 
at York, it might have been hoped, would have settled the 
question. But it is far from doing so. 

Its testimony is dubious. 

After giving the disposition and ordering of his funeral 
to his eldest son, Sir Thomas Fairfax, whom he also 
appoints sole executor, he proceeds : " I do give and 


bequeath to Edward Ffarefax, at the request of my said 
son Sr. Thomas Ffarfax, all that capitall messuage called 
Newhall, and all lands tenements, meadowes and pastures 
with the appurtynances lying and being within the p'ish of 
Otley and Ffuiston in the Countie of York to the same 
Newhall belonging, to have and to hold the said capytall 
messuage . . . and all other the said premises with 
the appurtenance to the said Edward Ffarefax and the 
heires of his bodie lawfully to be begotten, and for default 
of such issue, then I doe give the said messuage and land 
to my said sonne Sir Thomas Ffarfax, knight, and his heires 
for evr. Item: I do give to the said Edward Ffarfax the 
some of one hundred and fiftie pounds to be paid to him 
by my executor forth of my goods. Item, I doe give and 
bequeth to Charles Ffarfax all those my messuages and 
lands called Brocket-hall, and all my lands in Bradswoth 
and Weeton, to have and to hold the said messuages and 
lands with the said messuages and lands unto the said 
Charles Ffarfax, his executor es and assignes, from the 
anuntiation of our Ladie next after my death, for and 
during his naturall life, yelding and paing to my said sonne 
Sr. Thomas Ffarfax knight, and his heires, the yearly rent 
reserved as now paid for the p'messes att fests and termes 
accustomed, and I doe also give unto the said Charles one 
hundred pounds to be paid by my executor." 

The reader must now be left to draw his own 
conclusions as to the question of legitimacy or illegitimacy. 

Edward married, but at what date is not known, 
Dorothy, daughter of ... Laycock, of Coppenthorpe, and 
sister of Walter Laycock, chief Aulnager of the northern 
counties. There is evidence that about the date of his 
father's death, and also that occasionally afterwards, he 
resided in Kirkgate Leeds, in a house called " The 
Stocks," near to the parish church : but there can be no 
doubt that from shortly after the date of his father's will 
that is, from within the first few years of the 17th 
century, the house of Newhall, left to him under that will, 
became his ordinary abode. 


This house was situated in the township of Little 
Timble, a detached portion of the parish of Otley, though 
seven miles from that town. It stood on the southern 
bank of the Washburn, almost immediately below the 
village ot Fewston, and on the northern or lower margin 
of Swinsty Moor. The church and vicarage of the 
village looked down, from their situation on the northern 
declivity, directly upon Newhall. The house, or " hall," 
as it existed, with apparently little alteration, until the 
formation of the Swinsty reservoir, in 1876, A.D. 
when it was completely removed, was a plain stone- 
built dwelling, of two storeys in height on the 
south or front part facing Swinsty Moor. There 
was a room on either hand, to right and left of the door 
in the centre, each with three or four mullioned windows 
of late Elizabethan date. The roof covered with the 
heavy grey slate common in the vicinity descended 
almost to the ground behind, and extended outwards 
considerably, so as to cover the kitchens and other back 
rooms in the rear towards the river. 

This Hall had previously belonged to, and been inhabited 
by, the Pulleyne family one of the most numerous and 
influential families for several centuries in the forest, and 
at Scotton on the borders of it. 

The entries, regarding the Poet's family in Fewston 
parish registers, commence in the year 1605 A.D., when 
" Ellen daughter of Edward Fairfax, Esquire, was 
baptised 12th day of May." Again, in 1606 A.D., 
" Elizabeth daughter of Edward Fairfax, Esquire, was 
baptised the 8th of October." The last entry is that of 
the burial of the widow, and stands thus, " Mrs. Dorothie 
Fairfax was buried the 24th of January, 1648." 

Edward Fairfax himself was living in 1635 A.D. (vide 
two entries in the Court Rolls at Knaresborough), but is 
believed to have died in that (1635 A.D.) or the following 
year. Unfortunately the Fewston registers are defective 
for two or three years at this period, so that no record of 
the date of death, or of his burial, is to be found. 


Bryan Fairfax, a man of letters two generations later, 
the second son of the Rev. Henry Fairfax, in an account 
which he wrote of the Poet to Bishop Atterbury, dated 
March 12th, 1707-8 A.D., says of him, "While his 
brothers were honourably employed abroad, he stayed at 
home at his book, and thereby made himself fit for any 
employment in Church or State. But an invincible modesty, 
and love of a retired life, made him prefer the shady groves 
and natural cascades of Denton, and the forest of Knares- 
borough, before all the diversions of court or camp." 

He did not pass his time ignoUli otio, as appears by 
the many valuable manuscripts he left in the library of 
Lord Fairfax, at Denton, both in verse and prose. His 
great work, and which Bryan Fairfax tells us was " his 
first essay in poetry when very young," was his translation 
of Torquato Tasso's heroic poem of Godfrey of Bologne 
" out of Italian into smooth and excellent English, a book 
highly commended by the best judges and wits of that 
age, and allowed by the critics of this. King James 
valued it above all other English poetry; and King 
Charles, in the time of his confinement, used to divert 
himself by reading it."* 

This praise by the Poet's kinsman has been borne out 
by the approval and concurrence of the principal English 
historians and writers, and especially of brother poets, to 
the present time. 

Dr. Johnson noticed the book with great favour. 

Hume says "Fairfax has translated Tasso with an 
elegance and ease, and at the same time, with an exactness, 
which, for that age, was surprising." 

Hallam would name the work, "Jerusalem delivered, 
imitated from Tasso." 

Dryden classes Fairfax "among the sweetelt of the 
poets of his age, placing him on an equality with Spencer." 

Waller owned to Dryden that he " derived the harmony 
of his numbers from 'the Godfrey of Bulloigne ' which 
was turned into English by Mr. Fairfax." 

* Bryan Fairfax to Bishop Atterbury. 


Campbell reckons " the Jerusalem delivered " among the 
glories of the Elizabethan age. 

Eobert Gould, in prefaratory verses prefixed to the 
edition of 1687, says 

" See here, you dull translators, look with shame, 
Upon this stately monument of fame, 
And, to amaze you more, reflect how long 
It is, since first 'twas taught the English tongue ; 
In what a dark age it was brought to light ; 
Dark ? No, our age is dark, and that was bright, 
Of all those versions which now brightest shine, 
Most (Fairfax) are but foils to set off thine ! 
Ev'n Horace can't of too much justice boast, 
His unaffected easy style is lost ; 
And Ogilby's the lumber of the stall; 
But thy translation does atone for all." 

Collins, in his address to Home, the author of 
"Douglas," says of Tasso and his translator 

" Proceed ! nor quit the tales which, simply told, 
Could once so well my answering bosom pierce : 

Proceed ! in peaceful sounds and colours bold, 
The native legends of thy land rehearse ; 
To such adopt thy lyre, and suit thy powerful verse. 

In scenes like these, which, daring to depart 
From sober truth, are still to nature true, 
And call forth fresh delight to fancy's view 

The heroic Muse employed her Tasso's art ! 

How have I trembled, when, at Tancred's stroke, 
Its gushing blood the gaping Cyprus pour'd ! 

When each live plant with mortal accents spoke, 
And the wild blast upheaved the vanished sword ! 

How have I sat when piped the pensive wind 
To hear his harp by British Fairfax strung ! 

Prevailing Poet ! whose undoubting mind 
Believed the magic wonders which he sung." 

As an evidence that the work maintains its pre-eminence 
to cultivated minds in modern times the testimony of the 
Editress (his daughter) of the " Poetical Remains" of the 
late Venerable Archdeacon Churton, may be quoted. She 
says speaking of the Archdeacon " With him, Tasso 


was a favourite, and not unworthy to be named with 
Tasso, Fairfax, his unrivalled translator" 

The first edition of the translation of Tasso was 
published in 1600 A.D., with a dedication by the translator 
to Queen Elizabeth, in the laudatory style of the times, 

"Wit's rich triumph, Wisdom's glory, 
Art's chronicle, and Learning's story, 
Tower of goodness, virtue, beauty : 
Forgive me, that presume to lay 
My labours in your clear eye's ray ; 
This boldness springs from faith, zeal, duty." 

" Her hand, her lap, her vesture's hern, 
Muse touch not for polluting them ; 

All that is hers is pure, clear, holy : 
Before her footstool humble lie, 
So may she bless thee with her eye ; 

The sun shines not on good things solely. 


Another edition in 1624 A.D. contained a dedicatory 
address, also by Fairfax, to Prince Charles, soon to 
become the unfortunate Charles I., who, as Bryan Fairfax 
tells us, " in the time of his confinement used to divert 
himself by reading- this book." One stanza, from the five of 
which the address consists, must suffice as a specimen of it 

"You shepherds on the downs your flocks that keep, 
Happy you were, while your Eliza deigned 
To dwell amongst you, who so wisely reigned 
Tha.t never wolf into your folds durst peep ; 
But now a better fortune have you gained, 
For Pan himself is careful of your sheep, 
And Charles amidst your cottages doth sleep, 
As Phoebus did when he a shepherd feign'd." 

Successive editions of the work have continued to appear 
up to the present time ; and, as it is accessible and tolerably 
well known, it is not necessary to give more than two 
short extracts from it. 

The first is from Book IV., and describes Armida in 
tears at the rejection of her requests by Godfrey and other 
chiefs : 


" With that she looked as if a proud disdain 

Kindl'd displeasure in her noble mind ; 
The way she came, she turned her steps again, 

With gesture sad, but in disdainful kind ; 
A tempest railed down her cheeks amain, 

With tears of woe and sighs of anger's wind; 

The drops her footsteps wash, whereon she treads, 
And seems to step on pearls, or crystal beads. 

Her cheeks, on which this streaming nectar fell, 

Still' d through the limbeck of her diamond eyes, 
The roses white and red resembled well, 
Whereon the rory May -dew sprikled lies, 
When the fair morn first blusheth from her cell, 
And breathe th balm from open'd Paradise ; 

Thus sighed, thus mourned, thus wept this lovely queen, 
And in each drop bathed a grace unseen." 

The second extract is descriptive of Rinaldo on the Mount 
of Olives 

" It was the time, when 'gainst the breaking day, 
Eebellious night yet strove, and still repined, 
Far in the East appear' d the morning gray, 

And yet some lamps on Jove's high palace shined, 
When to Mount Olivet he took his way, 

And saw, as round about his eyes he twined, 

Night's shadows hence, from thence the morning shine 
This bright, that dark ; that earthly, this divine. 

Thus to himself he thought : how many bright 

Aad 'splendant lamps shine in Heaven's Temple high ! 
Day hath his golden sun, her moon the night, 

Her fix'd and wandering stars the azure sky ; 
So framed all by their Creator's might, 
That still they live, and shine, and ne'er will die, 
Till in a moment, with the last day's brand, 
They burn, and with them burn sea, air, and land." 

Among the valuable manuscripts, already alluded to as left 
behind him by Fairfax, were, " A History of the Black 
Prince," now, it is feared, entirely lost ; " DEeruonology," 
a discourse of witchcraft as acted in his family, and of 
which an account is given elsewhere in these " Leaves ;" 
also several letters which passed between him and one 
John Dorrell, "a Romish priest of no ordinary fame, then 


a prisoner in York Castle, on several subjects of contro- 
versy, as, e.g., the Pope's supremacy, infallibility, &c., 
which deserve to be published." (B.F.) 

He also wrote " Certain witty Eclogues " twelve in 
number, and, according to Mrs. Cooper (Muses' Library), 
" all of them written after the accession of James to the 
throne of England, on important subjects relating to the 
manners, characters, and incidents of the times he lived 
in. They are pointed with many strokes of satire ; 
dignified with wholesome lessons of morality and policy, 
to those of highest rank, and some modest hints even to 
Majesty itself. As far as poetry is concerned in them, the 
very name of Fairfax is the highest recommendation, and 
the learning they contain is so various and extensive, that 
according to the evidence of his son (who has written 
large annotations on each) no man's reading, besides his 
own, was sufficient to explain his references effectually." 

The son, here alluded to, was his eldest, William Fairfax. 
The account given of him by the same writer is, that, " he 
was a very learned but splenetic man, and a kind of tutor, 
or rather an intimate friend, to Mr. Stanley, who published 
the ' Lives of the Philosophers ; ' the greatest part of 
which work, as well as the ' Notes on Euripides,' truly 
belonging to Mr. William Fairfax." It may be added he 
was B.A. of Corpus Christi College, Oxford. 

As to his notes upon the Eclogues of his father, nothing- 
is now known. Bryan Fairfax, however, has preserved to 
us, in his letter, so often quoted, to Bishop Atterbury, the 
following account (written in 1636 A.D.) from the notes, 
of the poems themselves : " These bucolics were written 
in the first year of the reign of King James, and from 
their finishing they lay neglected ten years in my father's 
study, until Ludowic, the late noble Duke of Richmond 
and Lennox, desired a sight of them, which made the 
author to transcribe them for his Grace's use. That copy 
was seen and approved by many learned men ; and that 
reverend divine, Dr. Field, now Bishop of Hereford 
(Bishop only from December 14th, 1635 A.D., to June 2nd, 


1636 A.D.), wrote verses upon it; and these following 
were written by Wilson, Scotobritannus : 

' Et Phoebus, castasque doces, Fairfaxe, sorores 

Salsa verecundo verba lepore loqui, 
Ulla nee in toto paruit lascivia libro, 

Pagina non minus est quani tibi vita proba/ 

/ Chaste is thy muse as is a vestal nun, 

And thy Apollo spotless as the sun, 

No wanton thought betray'd by word or look, 

As blameless is thy life, as is thy book. ' " 


Both the book itself and the Bishop's encomium perished 
in the fire, when the banquetting house at Whitehall was 
burnt, and with it part of the Duke's lodgings where the 
book was ; but with my father's help, I recovered them out 
of his loose papers, &c." 

The fire alluded to thus by the son, must have occurred 
before his father's Edward's death in 1635 A.D. 

What has become of the recovered, or reconstructed 
copies is, unfortunately, now unknown. Mrs. Cooper, 
whose compilation, " The Muses' Library," was made in 
1737 A.D., states that a copy of the Eclogues was then in 
existence, from which, " by the indulgence of the family, 
she was permitted to oblige the world with a specimen of 
their beauties, a favour, which, she was proud to say, 
would, in one sense, make her collection complete, since it 
would be impossible it should be so without." 

After much inquiry no complete copy has been found. 
The fourth Eclogue is fortunately preserved, as stated 
above, in Mrs. Cooper's compilation, and has been reprinted 
in Knight's edition of the translation of Tasso, and also in 
Grainge's " Poets and Poetry of Yorkshire." 

Another one has, within the last few years, been dis- 
covered at the end of a manuscript volume of poems in 
the handwriting of the third Lord Fairfax, in the Bodleian 
Library, Oxford. (MSS. Add: vii., B 25). Beyond this, 
with the exception of two lines of a third one shortly to 
be alluded to, it is to be feared that the whole of this 
literary treasure has perished. 


The one first printed in the Muses' Library, is entitled 
" Eglon and Alexis," and is in the form of a dialogue, 
extending to thirty-eight stanzas, between Eglon a shep- 
herd and Alexis his friend, wherein under the parable of 
a fox and a lamb the wiles of a seducer are pourtrayed 
with graphic power and caustic satire, while the fearful 
curse of licentiousness is set forth in words that burn. 

The following is an instance, from this poem, of Fairfax's 
descriptive power : 

" Close to the bosom of a bended hill, 
Of faire and fruitful trees, a forest stood; 

Balm, myrtle, bdellium., from their bark distil, 
Bay, smilax, myrtle (Cupid's arrow wood) 

Grew there, and cyprus, with its kiss-sky tops, 

And Ferrea's tree whence pure rose water drops. 

The golden bee, buzzing with tinsel wings, 
Suckt amber honey from the silken flower ; 

The dove sad love-groans on her sackbut sings, 
The throssell whistles from the oaken tower ; 

And sporting, lay the nymphs of woods and hills, 

On beds of heart's-ease, rue, and daffodils." 

Another passage, taken from the conclusion of the poem, 
in which Alexis is speaking to his friend, mourning over 
his deluded, suffering lamb, sets forth spiritual truth and 
comfort, in words not unworthy of their writer : 

" Great is, I grant, the danger of thy sheep ; 

But yet there is a salve for every sore ; 
That Shepherd, who our flocks and us doth keep, 

To remedy this sickness, long before, 
Killed a Holy Lamb, clear, spotless, pure, 
Whose blood the salve is, all our hearts to cure. 

Call for that Surgeon good to dress her wounds, 

Bathe her in holy water of thy tears ! 
Let her in bands of faith and love be bound ; 

And while on earth she spends her pilgrim years, 
Thou, for thy charm, pray with the publicane 
And so restore thy lamb to health again." 

The other Eclogue extant is entitled, " Hermes and 
Lycaon." It was printed a few years ago by Lord 
Houghton, for the Philobiblion Society, and has also 


appeared with some account of its author, by the present 
writer, in the Churchman's Shilling Magazine. Below it 
is given in full. The subject matter of it, again set forth in 
the form of a dialogue in parable, are the relative claims, 
merits, and doctrines of the Church of England, and the 
Papal Church. As a controversial, as well as poetical work, 
it merits the highest praise bestowed upon its author. 
" The argument " and " prologue " are specially beautiful. 
It is headed, " An Eclogue made bj my uncle, Mr. Ed. 
Fairfax, in a dialogue betwixt tow sheapards." 


The Argument. 
"Lycaon his false church extends 

Through all the world with pomp and pride; 
Hermes the Church of Christ commends 

And to her spouse brings home his bride. 

The sweatie scythe-man, with his razor keen, 

Shore the perfurn'd beard from meadows green ; 

And on each bush and every mossie stone 

Jarred Maie's little daughter, Tettrigone, 

When to the shadows of a mountain steep, 

Lycaon drove his goats, Hermes his sheep. 

The shepherds both were lovers, both were young, 

Their skill was like in piping, like in song. 

The other grooms that heard, hid in the dales, 

Were dumb for shame like conquered nightingales. 

Oft came the nymphs, and fairy sisters oft 

Forsook their mossie beds, and liards soft, 

And oft the half -gods at their music sound, 

Came, and their brows with ivy garlands crown' d, 

Ye sedgie lakes, and pebble-paved wells, 

And, thou, great Pales, in these fields that dwells, 

How oft have you, hid in the shady sprays, 

Listen'd Lycaon's songs, his loves, and lays ! 

And you, high-stretched pines and oaks of Jove, 

Thou wanton echo, tell-clock of this grove, 

How oft did you fair Psyche's praise resound 

When Hermes charmed with songs love's bleeding wound. 

They sung by course and praised their loves by turns, 

Each cricket loves the flame wherein she burns, 

And whilst their flocks browse on the shrubs and briars, 
They tune their pipes, and thus they sing their fires. 


Lycaon : 

Flora my queen, my joy, my heaven of bliss, 

See what my merit and deserving is ; 

I build thee temples, and I feed thy sheep, 

I bring thee gifts, thy words as laws I keep ; 

My bed is ashes, sackloth is my weed, 

I drink with Rechab's sons, with Job I feed. 
For all my service and thus suffering long, 
Love me, sweet Flora, or thou dost me wrong. 
Hermes : 

Psyche, my desire, my undefiled, my dove, 

O comfort me, for I am sick of love ; 

Thy sacred temple is this wounded breast ; 

Sin, error, folly, my service is at best ; 

Foul leper-spots on all my body grow. 

Wipe out these stains, and wash me white as snow. 
Clothe me with linen, crown my head with gold, 
First make me worthy love, then love me bold. 
Lycaon : 

Flora was young, a fair few goats she kept, 

Ten kings espied her, loved her, with her slept, 

And in her sweet embrace such joy they found, 

That with three diadems her head they crowned, 

And on seven heaps their wealth and treasure laid, 

Set her thereon, fell at her feet and prayed. 

She forty months and two their service proves, 

And takes them for her slaves, not for her loves. 

Hermes : 

Psyche, my virgin, bore a blessed son ; 

The dragon chased her ; she to desert run, 

The fiend a stream of water at her flings, 

Earth drunk the flood, she 'scaped with eagles' wings; 

Crowned with twelve stars, clothed with glorious sun, 

She doth with roes and hinds in Eden run. 

There Psyche lives and reigns, in safety blest, 
Till time and times and half a time be past. 
Lycaon : 

Out of the sea a scarlet beast appeared, 

Ten horns he had, and seven heads proudly reared ; 

His forked tail 'gainst all the world made wars ; 

And smote the third of trees, of floods, of stars. 

Flora, this monster caught and tamed his pride, 

And on his back, as on a mule, doth ride. 

All nations fear the beast and serve the dame, 
And sealed are with 's number, mark and name, 


Hermes : 

Before the gates of Psyche's sheep cote lies 
Four wonderous beasts, all full of wings aiid eyes, 
And round about them four and twenty kings 
Offer up gold, and myrrh, and precious things. 
All these do Psyche's lambs keep, cure, and feed, 
And thousand thousands, clad in milk-white weed, 
Sing hymns of love, faith, and never cease, 
And on his brow each wears the seal of peace. 

Lycaon : 

Flora once found me sick and hurt to death, 
Thrice did she cross me, thrice upon me breathe, 
Three times she dipp't me in a living stream, 
And salved my wounds with spittle, salt and cream. 
A thousand saints she for my guard appoints, 
And all my head with oil of balm anoints, 

Then makes me master of her flock and fold, 
Her goats to keep, or kill, or sell for gold. 

Hermes : 

Psyche first took me soiled with mire and clay, 
Washed in the well of life my filth away ; 
Thieves robbed me, slew me ; of a lamb new slain, 
On me she poured the blood, I lived again ; 
Since that with bread of heaven, wine of grace, 
She diets me, her lap my resting place ; 

Her sheep my play fellows, heaven our fold, 
Her spouse the door, her voice the key of gold. 

Lycaon : 

It was the fiftieth year. Flora a feast 
Made for all those that loved and served her best ; 
Her guests were kings and lords of highest birth, 
All that were wise and rich upon the earth ; 
And all that land, or sea, or air afford, 
Her caterers took, and therewith filled her board, 

And drunk with wine, sucked from her cup of gold, 
Were kings and nations, rich, poor, young, and old. 

Hermes : 

Psyche to supper called the weak, the poor, 
The sick, the lazer, from the rich man's door, 
And at her board set them with lords and kings ; 
Her holy steward wine and wafers brings ; 
They eat and drink by faith, and thirst no more, 
Except some guests, forecharged with Flora's store, 
Sit there and, spider-like, from roses new, 
Draw poison, where the bee sucks honey-dew. 


Lycaon : 

Flora an orchard had of fruitful treen ; 
She pared the moss, and kept the branches clean, 
She let the fountains in, she killed the worm, 
She scarred the birds, she sav'd the blooms from storm ; 
Flourished the trees, the boughs with apples bent ; 
She called ; her servants to her orchard went. 

Gathered to eat ; but when she cut the skin, 

The fruit was ashes, embers, dust within. 

Hermes : 

Last year my Psyche had a field of corn ; 
She scoured the ditches, stopped the gap with thorn ; 
She tilled the land enough, she sowed good seed ; 
She stubbed the briars, plucked up tares and weed ; 
She frayed the crows, she kept the wild boar out ; 
And when ths sun turned the year's wheel about 

She reaped her crop, and when her gain she told, 

Found thirty, sixty, and a hundred fold. 

Lycaon : 

A flock of goats astray from Flora went ; 
Doris, her handmaid, after them she sent. 
But whilst the lass with Thirsis sporting laid, 
Her dogs ran forth alone, and soon they strayed ; 
And like their kind of wolves, of which they sprang, 
They slew, and eat, the goats and sucklings young. 

Yet some escaped, saved in the woods and rocks j 

Doris went home, but thus she lost her flocks. 

Hermes : 

What Doris left and lost, fair Daphne sought, 
And found, and to her mother's sheep fold brought. 
There Psyche bound their wounds, and staunched their blood. 
At first she gave them milk, then stronger food, 
And soon restored their health. Shepherds beware; 
Watch, feed, your sheep, charge asketh care. 

All that is stolen or slain you must make good, 

And Flora's Hylax yet lurks in the wood. 

Lycaon : 

King Solomon a cedar palace built, 
Thatched with tiles, of Flora's tresses gilt ; 
Her legs were silver posts the house to bear ; 
Her glorious thoughts the purple hangings were ; 
Her breast the presence, and her heart his throne ; 
Her triple crown, as Lord, there sits alone. 

Her holy doors ope to each that knocks ; 

Her hands pure myrrh drops on the bars and locks, 


Hermes : 

Psyche's fair locks, wrapped in gold of proof, 
Of God's high temple is the gilded roof. 
Her eyes the crystal windows, through each light 
A smiling saint shoots in day's arrows bright. 
Her coral lips, the doors that turn and twine 
On ruby hooks ; her mouth the choir divine ; 

Her teeth the ivory seats built even and thin ; 

Her tongue the silver bell that rings all in. 

Lycaon : 

That royal town where Flora hath her seat, 
Stands on seven hills, well peopled, pleasant, great; 
Rich in all blessings, all delights that can 
Be given by fortune, or be wished by man, 
Quinzy the large, Dorad yet seen (sic) 
Her handmaid be. She is the world's sole queen. 

Joy in her streets, life in her temples wide, 

And dead and lost is all the world beside. 

Hermes : 

Psyche's clear city was not raised from dust, 
But caine-from heaven, pure, immortal, just ; 
Stands on twelve precious stones. Jasper the wall, 
Streets gold, gates pearl be, still ope to all 
Who taste the tree of life which there does grow. 
About the town two blessed rivers flow 
Of grace and mercy ; over either flood 
Lies the fair bridge of faith, hope, doing good. 

Lycaon : 

O shrill Heptaphones ! thou daughter clear, 
Tell not these rocks of "Flora's doubt and fear ; 
Write not, Planetus, in to-rnorrow's stars, 
Her future troubles, dangers, losses, wars, 
Lest Psyche's shepherds should fore-know her doom, 
And kill her goats before her day be come. 

These woods are hers, these fields, and folds about : 
Then keep them, Flora, till t^hy lease wear out. 

Hermes : 

Sitting on Isis' flowery bank, I spied, 
On a white horse a crowned monarch ride. 
Upon his thigh was writ his wondrous name ; 
Out of his mouth a sword, two-edged, came. 
Flora, her beast, and all her goats he slew, 
And in the lake of fire their bodies threw. 

This king is Psyche's spouse ; with him she went, 
And ruled the world, for Flora's lease was spent, 


Thus much did Hernies and Lycaon sing. 

The heifer let the herbs untouched spring, 

Forgot to feed. The stags amazed stood. 

The river stayed her speedy flood. 

Charmed was the adder deaf, tamed was the lion, 
So trees heard Orpheus, dolphins heard Orion." 

Of another of the Eclogues, said to have been the fifth, 
only a scrap, consisting of the two opening lines, is known 
to exist. The lines are quoted, and thus preserved, in 
Gough's Camden, vol. iii., page 289, Edition of 1806 A.D. 
They are, 

" Upon Verbeia's willow-wattled brim, 
As Maspus dressed the wands and wickers trim." 

On these lines the following remarks from the notes of the 
poet's son, William Fairfax, are also preserved. 

" Verbeia, I take to be the ancient name of the Wharf e 
which watereth the native county of our family ; and I 
am in this confirmed by an altar so inscribed, which altar 
is observed by my father some years before Sir Robert 
Cotton and Mr. Camden came to this monument where it 
stood at the town of Ilkley. (Woodford in Ward's M.S.) 
It seemeth probable to me that Verbeia was the supposed 
nymph of the river, for the altar was erected to her in 
the water, and there stood as late as the memory of the 
parents of such as live yet in the house." 

As has been already stated, Edward Fairfax died in 
1635 or 6 A.D. 

His statement of the faith in which he lived, and, we 
may believe, died, is given in the beginning of his book 
on Dgemonology thus, 

" I am in religion neither a fantastic Puritan nor superstitious 
Papist, but so settled in conscience that 1 have the sure ground of 
God's word to warrant all I believe, and the commendable ordinance 
of our English Church to approve all I practise, in which course 
I live a faithful Christian and an obedient subject; and so teach 
my family." 

It cannot but be matter of deep regret, not only to 
every forester, but also to every lover of his country's 
history and literature, that every memorial, except the 



portions of his works herein described, of this learned 
man, has perished. 

If he left a will, it cannot be found. The portion of the 
parochial register bearing 1 the record of his burial, has 
been destroyed, or is lost. A marble slab, said to have 
marked the place oi his interment in Fewston Church, if 
ever there, is not now to be seen, and must have perished 
in the fire by which that church was, in part, destroyed 
about 1679 A.D. Even the house, which for probably 30 
years was the home of himself and his family, has now 
every vestige of it been swept away. Is this to remain 
the case with the memory of Edward Fairfax ? Is he to 


" Unwept, unhonoured, and unsung ? " 

AVhat say the rich men and women, or the Corporation, of 
the great town in which, for a time, he dwelt, and who 
have now, themselves, swept away the last material 
memorial of him, viz., his forest home the town of 
Leeds ? This is * the age of centenaries. And even a 
g-rateful country has ere now erected national monuments 
to less worthy less talented citizens than Edward 
Fairfax. But if these fail, will no wealthy forester, or 
Yorkshireman, or Englishman, no lover of his country's 
fame and literature, wipe away the reproach of the last 
resting place of the poet of the forest being left without 
a memorial to mark the spot, or to record his worth and 
his works ! A window, a marble monument in the church, 
or, better still, the restoration of the whole or a portion of 
the sacred building in which he worshipped during life, 
and in which his remains now rest awaiting the resurrec- 
tion morn, Avould bring honour to the donor, as honour 
to the recipient of it. The act would be, like mercy, 

"twice blessed. 
It blesseth him that gives and him that takes," 


FOREST, A.D. 1621. 

" Some call me witch, 
And being ignorant of myself, they go 
About to teach me how to be one ; urging 
That my bad tongue (by their bad usage made so) 
Forespeaks their cattle, doth bewitch their corn, 
Themselves, their servants, and their babes at nurse. 
This they enforce upon me, and in part 
Make me to credit it." " The Witch of Edmonton." 

'T has been said that " witchcraft and kingcraft in 
England came in and went out with the Stuarts." 
This, though not true, contains truth. Both existed 
before James I. ascended the English throne, and neither 
of them entirely vanished for long after James II. was 
driven from it. Yet it is certain that a very dark wave of 
credulity, as to witchcraft at least, passed over this country 
in the latter half of the sixteenth century, and extended 
far into the eighteenth, though blackest, perhaps, during 
the earlier part of the reign of the house of Stuart, i. e., 
of the seventeenth century. It was- not confined to any 
particular creed or sect. Members of the Church of 
England, Roman Catholics, Presbyterians, Independents, 
and Anabaptists, were alike subject to its delusions. The 
same was the case with all ages and ranks. In A.D. 1594, 
James, then King of Scotland, and afterwards of England, 
published his treatise on Doemonology, of which a modern 
writer somewhat tartly says, " It contains statements as to 
making of witches, and their practice of witchcraft, which 


if true would only prove their revealer to be deep in the 
councils of Satan, and a regular member or attendant of 
the assemblages of witchcraft." 

About the time when belief in this dark art was at its 
height, lived Edward Fairfax, the learned translator of 

Among the MSS. left by him was one entitled, " A 
Discourse on Witchcraft as it was acted in the family of 
Mr. Edward Fairfax, of Fuystone, in the county of York, 
in the year 1621 A.D." 

There are several transcripts of this book now in 
existence in private libraries, and it was printed some years 
ago for the Philobiblion Society. It reveals a story of 
supposed witchcraft, which only lacks the tragic end of 
the accused, to make the witches of Knaresborough Forest 
as notorious as are those of the Forest of Pendle, in the 
adjoining county of Lancaster. 

Fairfax, the writer, was no ignorant man or superstitious 
fool. As a poet he has already been spoken of. Lord 
Houghton, in an introduction to the Philobiblion print, says 
of him, " Living in a district of Yorkshire which even 
now is secluded and remote, he placed himself on the 
highest level of the accomplishments of his age, and he 
had the peculiar merit of giving to one of the chief classics 
of a foreign language almost the rank of a classic of his 
own. In times of turbulent thought and rash opinion he 
preserved a rare moderation in matters of religion, and 
writes with equal distaste of the " superstitions of the 
Papists and the fanaticism of the Puritans." His wealthier 
relations entrusted him with the management of their 
estates and the education of their children, as a discreet, 
observant, and learned man, and it would be difficult to find 
a better representative of the moral and intellectual worth 
of his generation." 

It is on account of containing the observations and 
descriptions, from a man of his intelligence and position, 
of the phenomena which were attributed to the machina- 
tions of witchcraft, that the book is chiefly interesting and 


valuable. Moreover, so far as the present writer is 
acquainted with the literature of the subject, accounts and 
records of supposed witches and of their doings are 
numerous, while minute descriptions of the symptoms and 
suffering's and acts of the victims (as are given in this 
case) are rare ; hence the possession of them on the 
witness, and from the pen of such a man as Fairfax, is 
an acquisition to our knowledge on the subject. 

The history is in the form of a diary, the entries in 
which are almost daily for the greater portion of the time 
over which they extend, viz., from October 28th, 1621 
A.D. to April llth, 1623 A.D. It is prefaced by an essay 
of considerable length, which, however far short of 
carrying conviction to a modern reader, is still a very 
learned and able defence of the belief in do3inonology. 

The opening sentences are worth quoting : 

"I present thee, Christian reader, a narrative of witchcraft, of 
which I am a woful witness, and so can best report it. Eead this 
without vindicating passion, and in reading let thy discretion 
precede thy judgment. I set down the actions and the accidents 
truly; observe them seriously, with learning, if thou be furnished 
that way, if not, yet with wisdom and religion ; the inquiry will 
afford tbee matter enough to assure the wise physician that here 
is more than natural disease, to answer the superstitious ignorant 
that the actors of this be no walking ghosts or dancing fairies, and 
to stop the mouths of the incredulous who deny witches ; for in 
this appeareth the work of Satan, not merely his own, but 
assisted by some wicked coadjutors by whose co-operation these 
innocents be thus cruelly afflicted." 

In the introduction, the victims of the evil practices 
are first described to us, and then the women accused of 
being their tormentors. 

Of the former the writer says, " Two of the patients are 
my daughters, of whom this was the estate when the 
witches began with them the elder, Helen Fairfax, a 
maid of twenty-one years, of person healthful, of com- 
plexion sanguine, free from melancholy, of capacity not 
apprehensive of much, but rather hard to learn things fit, 
slow of speech, patient of reproof, of behaviour without 


offence, educated only in mine own house, and therefore 
not knowing much. 

Elizabeth, my younger daughter, an infant of scarce 
seven* years, of a pleasant aspect, quick wit, active spirit, 
able to receive any instruction, and willing to undergo pains. 

Besides these of mine, one Maud Jeffray, daughter . of 
John Jeffray, yeoman, aged 12 years, hath suffered much 
from the same hands. 

The unfortunate women charged with witchcraft were 
seven in number. Six are described by name, and one as 
"the strange woman." Their familiar spirits are also set forth. 

One was a widow, whose husband had died at the hand 
of the executioner for stealing. Her familiar spirit was 
" a deformed thing with many feet, black of colour, and 
rough with hair, the bigness of a cat, and the name of it 

The next suspected person was her daughter, " a young 
woman agreeing with her mother in name and condition." 
Her spirit was " a cat, spotted with black, and named 
' Inges.' " The third was a very old widow, reputed a 
witch for many years, a repute which appears to have 
been hereditary in her family. Her spirit was " in the 
shape of a great black cat called Gibbe, which hath 
attended her above forty years." 

The fourth was the daughter of the last named, " an 
obedient child and docile scholar of so skilful a parent." 
Her familiar was "in the shape of a bird, yellow of colour, 
about the bigness of a crow ; the name of it Tewhit." 

The next was daughter of a woman not long since dead, 
" notoriously famed for a witch, who had so powerful a 
hand over the wealthiest neighbours about her, that none 
of them refused to do anything that she required; yea, 
unbesought they provided her of fire, and meat from their 
own tables, and did what else they thought would please 

* These ages do not correspond with the dates in the baptismal 
register of Fuystone parish. Helen was baptised May, 1605 A.D., and 
Elizabeth October, 1606 A.D. 


Little is said of the sixth. The seventh was called " the 
strange woman." This individuum vagum " had a spirit in 
likeness of a white cat, which she calleth Ffillie ; she had 
kept it twenty years." 

" These," it is added, " do inhabit Within the Forest of 
Knaresbo rough, in the parish of Fuystone, in which dwell many 
more suspected for witchcraft, so that the inhabitants complain 
much by secret murnaurings of great losses sustained in their 
goods, especially in their kine, which should give milk ; for help 
whereof their usual remedy is to go to those fools whom they call 
wise men. And the wizrrds teach them such wicked fopperies as to 
burn young calves alive, and the like, whereof I know that 
experiments have been made by the best sort of my neighbours, 
and thereby they have found help as they report. So little is the 
truth of the Christian religion known in this wild place and rude 
people, upon whose ignorance God have mercy ! " 

The victims of the delusion received^ almost daily visits 
from these accused women, and sometimes the apparitions 
were of the women in proprice persona, sometimes of their 
" familiars ;" sometimes both were present at the same 
time ; and frequently at these times in the sufferer's 
presence the apparitions of the witches were transformed 
into those of their familiars, and vice versa. At their 
approach, which they often foretold, the girls fell into a 
trance or ecstasy, and in this condition freely conversed 
with them in their different forms, argued with them, 
and often soundly rated them. They were invisible of 
course to any but the sufferers, and their utterances 
unheard except by them. The questions, replies, and 
conversation, however, of the latter were audible and 
intelligible to the bystanders, and by them were noted 
down at the time, and confirmed and explained by the girls 
upon recovery. 

The first to come under the spell was the elder daughter, 
Helen. The power, viz., "a touch," to subject her to it, 
was supposed to have been gained by one of the women 
while " pinning her band " in the field some months 
previously. An attempt to obtain a like power over a' 
neighbour on a subsequent occasion is thus described : 


" Thomas Forest, a young man, came riding late near the house 
of Margaret Wait, and there he was suddenly assaulted by many 
cats, so that he could hardly defend himself from them, but did 
ride away with all the speed he could, and so escaped, yet they 
followed him a great way; and it was told to the children after- 
ward that the cats were witches, then assembled at the house of 
Wait's wife, who desired to have pulled Thomas Forest from his 
horse, that they might have got such a touch of him as they 
might have afterwards bewitched him." 

The well-known use of images of the victims practised 
upon was also resorted to. In one of her trances Helen 
described the appearance of an old woman, who came in 
at the kitchen door, very wet with rain, and with her an 
" ill-favoured thing- she could not describe. The woman 
stood behind it, and took forth of a poke and showed unto 
her some pictures (images) and a little creeping thing 
among them. The woman told her these were the pictures 
by which they bewitched folk. The picture of my 
daughter Helen was apparelled like her in her usual attire, 
with white hat, and locks of hair hanging at her ears ; 
that of her sister was also attired in the child's holiday 
apparel ; the rest were naked." 

By means of such an image the death of an infant 
daughter (Ann Fairfax, baptized June 12th, buried October 
9th, 1621 A.D.) was believed to have been brought about. 

In " Pott's Discovery of Witchcraft " (Cheetham 
Society), the process is described on the confession of one 
of the Lancashire witches. 

" The speediest way to take a man's life away by 
witchcraft is to make a picture of clay, like unto the shape 
of the person whom they mean to kill, and dry it 
thoroughly ; and when they would have them to be ill in 
any one place more than in another, then take a thorne or 
pinne, and prick it in that part of the picture you would so 
have to be ill ; and when you would have any part of the 
body to consume away, then take that part of the picture 
and burn it. And when they would have the whole body to 
consume away, then take the remnant of the said picture and 
burne it ; and so thereupon by that means the body shall die.' ' 


In Middleton's "Witch of Edmonton " there is allusion 
to the same : 

Hecate. What death is t' you desire for Almachildes ? 

Duchess. A. sudden and a subtile. 

Hecate. Then I've fitted you. 

Here be the gifts of both, sudden and subtile : 
His picture made in wax, and gently molten 
By a blue fire kindled with dead men's eyes. 
Will waste him by degrees. Edition 1778, p. 100. 

The first entry in the diary is this, 

"Imprimis: Upon Sunday, October 2Sth, 1621, my eldest 
daughter, Helen Fairfax, was sent into the parlour in my house 
at Newhall, a little before supper-time, to see that the fire did no 
hurt, and there she stayed for awhile, when William Fairfax, my 
eldest son, came into the place and found her laid along upon the 

floor in a deadly trance We took her up, but could 

not recover her. . . . Nothing judged available was omitted to 
reduce her to some feeling ; but our labour was unprofitable for 
divers hours, so that some gave her for dead; yet at last she 
respired, and shortly afterwards spake. Then we found, by her 
words, her imagination was that she was in the church at Leeds, 
hearing a sermon made by Mr. Cook, the preacher, and she told 
every one that spake to her. The next morning she was perfectly 
well again, but for some few days after she had many like trances, 
and in them supposed that she saw and talked with her brethren 
and sisters, who were dead long before." 

Neither in the witches' caldron in " Macbeth," nor in 
"the charm" given in the following- characteristic stanza 
of Ben Jonson, does a penny find place as an ingredient : 

" The owl is abroad, the bat, and the -toad, 

And so is the cat-a-rnountain, 
The ant and the mole sit both in a hole, 

And the frog peeps out o' the fountain ; 
The dogs they do bay, and the timbrels play, 

The spindle is now a-turning ; 
The moon is red, and the stars are fled, 

But all the sky is a-burning ; 
The ditch is made, and our nails the spade, 
With pictures full, of wax and wool, 
Their livers I stick with needles quick, 
There lacks but the blood to make up the flood." 


The story of a " charmed " penny, however, as related 
by Fairfax, is too rich to be omitted. 

" On Friday, November 23rd, 1621, I was in the kitchen with 
many of my family, anu there some speeches by chance were made 
of charms and lookers (as our rude people call them), and the 
names of many were reckoned up who were thought to be skilful 
therein ; and ifc was said that such as go to these charmers carry 
and give them a single penny. The words gave occasion to my 
wife to remember and tell it, that she had a single penny given 
her amongst other money by Margaret Wait, sen., which she paid 
for corn. The woman desired her to keep the penny, for she 
would come for it again, which she did accordingly a few days 
after, and demanded it, affirming that she would not lack it for 
anything, for it kept her from dreaming. She said it had a hole 
in it, by which she did hang it about her neck in a thread, at 
which words such as were present laughed heartily. . . . She 
was very angry, and departed without her penny. At this relation 
I wished my wife to fetch the penny she had, .... and told 
her that if Wait's wife were a witch indeed, theu if she went not 
presently the penny would be gone. She answered that it could 
not, for it was safely locked up in the desk in the parlour. . . . 
I arose and with tuy wife went to the desk, which was locked. 
We opened it, and sought the penny therein with all diligence, 
and left not a paper unopened, nor a place unsought, but the 
penny was not to be found ; whereat we were a little amazed, 
for the place where the penny lay was upon a shelf in the desk 
easy to be seen, and the desk was securely locked when we came to it. 

" On Sunday, the 25th of November, Helen went to church both 
before and after dinner, and in the evening Mr. Smithson, vicar of 
Fuyston, came to visit her, and tarried supper with us ; and after 
supper, as we sat talking of these things in the parlour, especially 
of the penny, my daughter had occasion to open the desk, which 
stood by locked. She opened the lock and lifted up the cover, 
and presently both she and all who were present saw the penny 
lying upon the shelf in the desk, to the great marvel of us all, 
especially of myself who had so diligently sought for it before. 
Whereupon I took it and put brimstone upon it, and so thrust it 
into the midst of the fire, which was so vehement that it moved 
Mr. Smithson to say, " So I warrant you it will trouble you no 
more," and we all thought it to be molten and consumed ; yet 
upon the Sunday following, the 2nd of December, the penny 
again lay in our sight before the fire, and was then taken up by 
Edward Fairfax, my son, a boy of ten years old. Then I took it, 
and with brimstone and fire dissolved it, and beat it to powder 
upon a stone." 


Let us hope the penny was now completely got rid of. 

About Christmas in the same year 1621 A.D. the second 
daughter, Elizabeth, was subjected to the evil influences 
of the sisterhood The manner in which one of them 
succeeded in touching her, and thus obtaining the power 
over her, is another interesting episode, over which, 
however, we must pass. 

Witches were not free from sorrows and trials any more 
than other mortals (if mortals they were). On Friday, 
the 8th of March, 1622 A.D., Margaret Thorp, the fourth 
of the seven, appeared unto Helen in great trouble and 
weeping bitterly. She probably was feeling how de- 
plorable was her condition. 

" I am shunned 

And hated like a sickness ; made a scorn 
To all degrees and sexes." 

She questioned her as to how she became a witch. 

" Call me witch ! 

" What is the name ? Where and by what art learn'd ? 
What spells, what charms or invocations ? 
May the thing called ' familiar ' be purchased ? " 

The woman replied that one, in the appearance of a man 
of this world, met her upon the moor, and offered her 
money, which at first she refused, but afterwards sold 
herself to him body and soul. 

"And he made her a lease back again of her life for forty years, 
which was now ended upon Shrove Tuesday last. The man did write 
their leases with their blood, a.nd they likewise with their blood 
set their hands to them. . . . She said further that she knew 
forty witches, but there were only seven of their company. Helen 
said, ' I think thy sister at Timble is as evil as thou art, for she 
speaketh with black things in Timble Gill.' The woman said, 
' Thou art a witch if thou canst tell that.' She replied, ' I am not 
a witch ; . . . her own child told it.' " 

The long- continued affliction in the family could not but 
attract the attention and excite the curiosity or sympathy 
of the surrounding neighbourhood. 


" My uncle lias of late become the sole 

Discourse of all the country ; for a man respected 
As master of a governed family; 
The house (as if the ridge were fixed below, 
And ground-sills lifted up to make the roof) 
All now's turned topsy turvy 
In such a retrograde, preposterous way 
As seldom hath been heard of, I think never. 

All in such rare disorder, that in some 
As it breeds pity, and others wonder, 
So ia the most parb laughter. It is thought 
This comes by witchcraft." Heywood. 

It is noteworthy that whether pity, wonder, or laughter 
were bred toward the household, sympathy, at least of the 
more intelligent neighbours, seems to have been for the 
accused. In this case 

"'Twas not all one 
To be a witch, and to be accounted one." 

Fairfax complains several times somewhat bitterly that 
the vicar of Fuystone (Mr. Smithson), Mr. Henry Graver, 
and Mr. Jas. Robinson, of Swinsty Hall, favoured the women. 

One neighbouring justice of the peace, however, appears 
to have been prevailed upon to make an examination into 
the charges against them. One of them (Margaret Thorp) 
was summoned to meet Helen Fairfax in his presence at 
Fuystone Church. After some preliminary inquiries the 
woman was subjected to the following test : 

" The same justice of the peace, also in the church at Fuystone, 
told me in private that he would try if Thorp's wife were a witch, 
by causing her to say the Lord's Prayer : for if she were a witch, 
he said that in the repetition of that prayer she could not say the 
words ' forgive us our trespasses.' I was silent and observed the 
trial. The woman being put to it, could not say those words by 
any means. At first she repeated the prayer and wholly omitted 
them, and then being admonished thereof, and urged to the point, 
she stood amazed, and finally could not at all utter them, of which 
many people were witnesses to their admiration." 

If such tests only were applied to the women, their 
apparitions received occasionally somewhat rougher usage, 
as the following relations will show : 


" On the 3rd of May Jennet Dibb appeared unto Helen, and 
showed her an old silver ppoon. She fell into the usual trance, 
but at last looked up and said to the woman, ' That is ours ; that 
is our spoon.' And it appeare 1 upon search that such an one was 
missing out of the locked desk." 

" Helen still talked to the woman, and said, ' That is our spoon; 
thou shalt not carry it away ; I will take it from thee.' Her uncle 
and the rest present saw nothing this while. At last she arose 
and went to the place where she saw the woman stand, and there 
the company saw her fight and strive with something. At last 
she said to the woman, ' Wilt thou go away with it, thou shalt not 
carry it away.' The servant shut the door and set her back against 
it. Helen still contended with the woman for the spoon, and her 
hand went apace, yet she did not touch either table or wall, but 
something which the company saw not. At last she drove the 
woman into a corner, and there got her down, and after some 
struggling she held the woman's hand with her loft hand, and 
with the right she took the spoon from her, rose up, shook it at 
her, and said, ' How sayest thou now, Dibb's wife ? I told thee I 
would take it from thee.' Then all that were present saw the 
spoon in her hand to their great amazement." 

The servant left the door to look at the recovered spoon, 
and the woman " opened the door and ran away." 

Again, on Sunday, the llth of March, "the strange 
woman" appeared to the children in the kitchen, and 
threatened to kill the elder. But the girl got 

" A rod, and starting up, beat the woman until she kneeled 
down and prayed her to forgive her. Then I took the rod and 
struck at the place where the children said the woman was, but they 
perceived it not, yet they saw the woman much troubled, and 
asked her ' what she ailed.' For she wept bitterly, that the tears 
ran down, and stirred from place to place to avoid the blows ; and 
lastly told the children that I did strike at her, and she was afraid 

to be beaten In this extremity her spirit at the 

instant came to help her, being then in likeness of a bird ; it took 
her away, and both of them ran out of the door together." 

These incidents are but specimens of such as happened, 
and are recorded, almost every day. 

At the Spring Assizes at York (1622 A.D.), six of the un- 
fortunate women were charged with witchcraft. Fairfax, 
his elder daughter, and Maud Jeffray were there and 
appeared against them. The younger daughter, Elizabeth, 
remained at home at Newhall. 


The women fortunately were acquitted, though no 
remark or information on the subject is given except 
indirectly in the narrative. How, or on what grounds 
they escaped, therefore, on this occasion there is no record. 

On Thursday, the 4th of April, two of them (Jennet 
Dibb and Margaret Thorp) returned to their homes. On 
the following morning these women with their spirits, the 
cat and the bird, appeared to the younger child at Newhall, 
and also on the following morning (Saturday), and told her 
that her father and sister were then at Tadcaster, on-their 
way home, but " should hardly get home that night, for 
that they would go and meet them upon the moor." The 
apparition of one of these women also appeared on the 
Friday night to the two girls at Tadcaster, and in like 
manner warned them also " that she would meet them 
them again upon the moor." 

The story of the journey home on this eventful Saturday 
is so inimitably told by the narrator that it must be given 
to our readers in his own words : 

" Item, on Saturday, the 6th of April, we departed from 
Tadcaster, and. rode without any interruption till we came to 
Collinghaiu or Clifford Moor, as some call it. There, the place 
being very fair, we aligited to walk on foot ; myself and my 
daughter walked aloae, and Richard England, my servant, led 
after us the horses upon which we rode; the rest of the company 
were before us about twelve score (yards). Jeff ray's daughter said 
suddenly to those that wete with her, that she saw the two women 
pass by them, and then ' the strange woman ' went along the top 
of a bank whic'-i is cist up the e for a great sp ice together (the 
remains, as 1 take it, of the entrenchment of the rebels, 12th of 
Elizabeth), and she looked after them, and told them that they 
went towards Helen Fairfax, and stool round about her, and 
declared on which side of her each of them severally stood. At 
t'lat instant I took my horse, not knowing anything of this matter, 
and my man offered to set my daughter up behind me, but she 
could not sp.'ak to him. I perceived that she was in trance and 
alighted again, and sat down with her upon the bank aforesaid, 
where she began to talk to Thorpe's wife and to the strange 
woman . 

" Maud Jeffray also fell into the same condition. In which state 
we took them up, and carried them to the town of Collingham, 


where they came to themselves, and we rode on our journey very 
well till we came to the gate entering upon Harwood Moor, at 
which gate (as my daughter told me) Dibb's wife slood. All the 
company present passed the gate, and left the woman standing 
there, who stood in that place until Francis Pulleia (a neighbour 
accompanying them) and Richard England came to the gate. . . 
. . . At their coming the women came witfi them from the 
place, and in their company all the three women overtook us. The 
two girls saw all they did, and laughed thereat, and reported 
it unto us, not being in any trance until they came all unto us; 
then they fell in trance, in which the women told them 
that Francis Pullein should go home on foot. Thereupon the 
women, some'imes one and sometimes another, were seen by the 
children to ride upon his horse behind him, which they talked of 
to the women, and by those words we understood what passed. 
The horse was suddenly so troubled, and unable to go forward, 
that the man was forced to alight ; but then his case was worse, 
for two of the witches at once rode upon him (the horse) so that 
he could nei her lead nor drive him but with umch difficulty. Often 
he struck in the saddle, and where the wenches said the witches 
sat, at which time the women avoided the blows, and leaped from 
the horse, who as long as he was discharged, of them, went on ; 
but he found not much of that ease. Thus with much trouble we 
came to Harwood, to the house of Mr. Jackson, where they were 
presently well. . . . . From Harwood we departed, and rode 
on till we cnme again upon the moors above Stainburn, where 
they fell in trance again, and talked to the same women as before, 
and Francis Pullein's horse was used in the same manner a^ain ; 
so with much ado, we got home to my house about the setting of 
the sun. 

" This accident concerning Pullein's horse is such as the greatest 
adversaries, I think, cannot say that he could be instructed to play 
his part so well in the imposture; for of this I am sure, he was 
very like to have died for many weeks after, but at last he 
recovered in some measure. Eidiculous are they that think the 
horse could combine in the practice, and wicked if they question 
the truth of this particular, which so many oaths hath confirmed." 

Things resumed their usual course in the household. In 
a few days, certain eggs, pence, a shilling, and " two sugar 
cakes," mysteriously disappeared from locked desks, and 
the spirit of one of the women perhaps to indemnify her 
against her expenses was believed to have taken them. 
A remark, however, is made, which probably most readers 
will endorse : 


" These cakes, the two pence, and Jeffray's shilling were indeed 
gone and never seen more. The circumstances seem to prove that 
the woman herself, not her spirit, did these things. For I doubt 
how the rich usurers could keep their money in safety, if the devil 
had any such power to take it out of their chests." 

Whether the witches were anxious to celebrate their 
victory at York with all eclat or otherwise, " the deponent 
sayeth not," but we find this record in the diary : 

" Item, on Thursday, the 10th of April, the children were both 
of them made blind by the black cat, and so continued till Friday 
at nine o'clock ; then their sight was restored. They were told 
that all the witches had a, feast at Timble Gill." 

" 'Tis now the very witching time of night, 
When churchyards yawn, and hell itself breathes out 
Contagion to this world." 

"Hamlet," Act III., sc. ii. 

" Their meat was wasted about midnight. At the upper end of 
the table sat their master, viz., the devil ; at the lower end Dibbs, 
who provided for the feast and was the cook ; and therefore she 
could not come to the children that day. It was true that the 
children that day saw her not." 

At this time, one or other of the apparitions, sometimes 
several of them, appeared to the victims almost daily, and 
even more than once a day. The conversations and inci- 
dents of each occasion are minutely recorded, and the 
perusal of them, while sometimes provoking a smile, is 
frequently not without painful feelings of pity or regret 
at the credulity, or the wicked deceit they reveal. 

The girls seem to have imagined, or believed, themselves 
to be more and more under the power of their supernatural 
tormentors. On two occasions it is stated of the elder 
that she was bodily borne away, against her will and her 
struggles, to some considerable distance by them. 

" On Thursday, the 2nd of May, my daughter Helen was taken 
away (as she after reported) by Dibb's wife and Thorp's wife, who 
took her out of the entry, carried her to the river, and put her into 
it ... but she got from them, and returning towards the 
house, in the way she fell in a deadly trance, in which I found her, 
and did marvel to see her clothes wet ; so I caused her to be 
brought into the house, and she came to herself, and told us as 


And again, 

" On Thursday, the 30th of May, being Ascension Day, Helen 
Fairfax, was suddenly taken away by Thorp's wife and the black 
cat, and carried out at the back door . . . over the water above 
Eowton Bridge, and over Ralph Holmes' s ground, and then over 
the moor, and so through the fields again, and crossed Braime Lane 
above Caryer's hoiise; then over the great hill there, and so 
crossed the fields on the north side of Slayter's house, and so the 
high moor, on that side upon a hill. There she saw many women 
together, amongst whom was Dibb's wife and the strange woman, 
who had a great fire there." 

She was found here, and led to a neighbouring house 
(Jeffray's). "And," continues the narrative, 

" One came with all speed running to advertise me at my house 
of the accident, and found me, with others in much care, seeking 
the woods and waters for her, least she some way perished, and 
sorrowing for her loss. This news comforted us. I took some with 
me. . . . Then I brought her home, and by the way she 
showed me the way she had passed, which was over hedges and 
difficult places for the space of for more than a mile. The time 
also was so short betwixt her taking out of the house and her 
being found on the moors that it was not possible she could go 
thither in so short space." 

There is one more story, that of a hare, which shall 
not be withheld from the reader, though probably he 
has already had enough of such, partly because Fairfax 
places considerable importance upon it as an evidence of 
supernatural intervention, and partly because it shows how 
the evidence, deemed by him unanswerable, could be easily 

" On Thursday, the 4th of April, my eldest son, William Fairfax, 
being in the field called Birkbanks, started a hare out of a bush 
and set a dog at her. Mr. Srnithson, vicar of Fuystone, saw her 
also, and in like sort caused his dog to run at her, but they quickly 
lost the sight of her. That day, soon after, the child (Elizabeth, 
the younger daughter, the other being at this time with her father 
at York) was in trance, and the strange woman did appear to her, 
and told her that she was that hare which her brother and the 
vicar set their dogs at, and that she came over the water with her 
brother William, and that he should see her again the next time that 
he went to that place, which proved true. 



" From the woman's report that she was that hare, the detractors 
and slanderous scoffers of this infant may be confounded, if they 
consider that the child foretold out of the woman's mouth that her 
brother should see the hare again, which he did indeed, in the 
same place, upon Tuesday, the 9th of April next following ; which 
foretelling could be no imposture of the child, for her teachers, if 
they can suppose any such, could not themselves preface it so many 
days before. I cannot with silence pass over her saying, that being 
in that or the like shape she was senseless, for [as to] the trans- 
forming of shapes in this kind, the question deserveth to be written 
of in a whole volume; but it is far above niy learning to resolve it; 
and books from which I might borrow any help, are (in this wilder- 
ness) as rare as civility is, or learning itself." 

At the summer assizes in the same year the accused 
women were a second time placed on trial, and Fairfax 
with both his bewitched daughters, together with John 
Jeffray and his daughter, again attended to give evidence 
against them. A petition in favour of the accused from 
their neighbours evidently promoted by Mr. Smithson, 
the Vicar, Henry Graver, and James Kobinson was 
presented. The grand jury, however, found a true bill, 
but, upon the trial in court, deception of some kind was 
suspected on the part of Jeffray and his daughter ; the 
latter on being examined in a private room, is said to have 
confessed to an imposture, though it is added, if so, it was 
under undue threatening and pressure. The result was, 
that Jeffray was for a short time detained in custody, and 
the women again acquitted. 

At the failure of these prosecutions Fairfax was evidently 
very much disappointed and annoyed. He says, " I am 
not aggrieved that they escaped death, which deservedly 
they might perchance have suffered; for the lives of so 
many ought to be very precious in the eyes of Christian 
charity. Notwithstanding, the proceedings which made 
the way easy for them to escape, I fear, were not fair. 
Either the hardness of hearts to believe, which made some 
of the best sort incredulous, or the openness of hands to 
give in some of the meaner, which waylaid justice, untying 
the fetters from their heels, and unloosing the halters from 
their necks, which so wise juries thought they had so well 


deserved Upon myself was put an aspersion, 

not of dishonesty, but of simplicity ; for it was given out 
that Jeffray and his family devised the practice, to which 
they drew my eldest daughter, and she the younger ; and 
that I (like a good innocent) believed all which I heard or 

saw to be true, and not feigned I thank them 

that they wrong not my integrity ; and for putting the fool 
upon me, I could answer them, as Gregory did Mauritius 
the Emperor for calling him fool, and pray them to consider, 
that though they be so wise to think the children might 
deceive them, having seen them but once or twice in 
trance, and therefore could not collect much, yet all we 
who conversed with them day and night for the space of 
ten months, and observed all before written, and much 
more omitted, it is impossible, I say, that all we, by 
children of their small capacity, be so long besotted that 
we could discover nothing to be feigned or counterfeited 
in so many occurrences." 

The return of the family home on August 12th was 
followed by no cessation of the appearances of the appari- 
tions now of the women themselves, now of Inges the 
spotted cat, now of Gibbe the black one, now of Tewhit 
the yellow bird, or now of various " deformed things," 
their spirits or familiars for two or three months. 

There is an amusing account of the funeral of the hus- 
band of one of the women, and of her " familiar," the bird, 
being seen following it through the churchyard, and then 
perching upon the porch of the church until the procession 
issued from the edifice and then again joining it, and pro- 
ceeding with it to the grave ; but the incidents upon the 
whole were of much the same character as those of which 
the reader has already had a sufficient number of specimens. 
Helen, the elder daughter, was rendered deaf soon after 
the return, and remained so for some weeks. On the 19th 
of November there is this record with regard to her : 

" At this time my daughter Helen was perfectly well, but her 
memory was gone concerning the witches, and when her sister fell 
in trances she marvelled at it, and demanded what she ailed, and 


asked what disease she had. We told her that she was bewitched, 
and that she herself had been so, and questioned her of the black 
cat and other spirits ; at which she laughed, and said, ' Jesus bless 
me ! What tell you me of spirits and witches ? I never saw a 
spirit.' " 

After Christmas, 1622 A.D., the appearances to, and 
trances of, the younger girl became less frequent, and 
when the narrative ends, April llth, 1622 A.D., the 
visitations were evidently gradually being withdrawn from 
her also. 

In forming an opinion with regard to the incidents and 
events of this history, it must be borne in mind that they 
reflect the general feeling, mode of thinking, and manners 
of the day in which they are said to have happened. As 
to the origin of the hallucinations (if such they were) in 
the persons described, medical science could probably fur- 
nish much, in the way of explanation, which might save 
the young persons from a charge of deliberate imposture. 

There can be no doubt the writer of " the discourse " 
was imposed upon, and that he conscientiously believed 
what he recorded. Before condemning his credulity, it 
may be well also to remember what Hartley Coleridge well 
says of him, in the " Northern Worthies," viz., " That in 
his belief in Doemonology, Fairfax coincided with the spirit 
of his age and bowed to the wisdom of his ancestors. To 
have doubted of the existence of witches would have 
exposed him to the imputation of atheism, and as certain 
diseases were attributed to diabolical agency, an anxious 
parent might be excused for mistaking the symptoms in his 
own offspring." 

The popular feeling in favour of such agency had been 
on the increase during the thirty years which had elapsed, 
since Jewel, Bishop of Salisbury, preaching at St. Paul's 
Cross, before Queen Elizabeth, used these words : " It may 
please your Grace to understand that witches and sorcerers 
within these few years are marvellously increased within 
your Grace's realms. Your Grace's subjects pine away, 
even unto the death ; their colour fadeth, their flesh rotteth, 


their speech is benumbed, their senses are bereft. I pray 
God they never practise further than upon the subject. 

These eyes have seen most evident and 

manifest marks of their wickedness." 

And, may it not also be asked, in Fairfax's favour, 
whether we, of the latter half of the 19th century, with 
the advantages of all the advancements in science and in 
every branch of knowledge in theology, " the higher 
criticism," and " the evolutions of the inner consciousness," 
who yet have so many among us who believe in spirit- 
rapping, spiritualism, apparitions, and manifestations in 
seances, have much right to cast the first stone at the 
credulity of Edward Fairfax, in the beginning of the 17th 
century ? 

" Ah ! from the old world let some one answer give ; 

' Scorn ye this world, their tears, their inward cares ? 
I say unto you, see that your souls live 
A deeper life than theirs.' 


" ' Children of men ! not that your age excel 

In pride of life the ages of your sires, 
But that you think clear, feel deep, bear fruit well, 
The Friend of man desires.' " 



|HE following notes may be of interest to the 
readers of the foregoing papers, on the family 
many of whom are incidently mentioned therein, 
of Edward Fairfax. 

Four sons and three daughters survived him, and, at 
least one, a daughter, died in infancy. The sons appear to 
have gone out into the world, and all, or nearly all, records 
of them have been lost. The daughters soon after their 
father's death, married into local families. 

William Fairfax, the eldest son, was B.A. of Corpus 
Christi College, Oxford and a learned, but retiring, man. 
He was tutor in the family of Dr. Stanley, at Norwich, and 
the author of Notes on Euripides, and other classical 
works ; and also of Notes on his father's Eclogues. 

Thomas Fairfax mentioned in the Doemonology by Helen 
Fairfax, as her brother, was probably in the army or 
navy. " What was that which came to me," asks she of 
one of her tormentors, " Like my brother Thomas, all in 
gold lace ? " 

Edward Fairfax, bap. at Fewston in 1611 A.D., also 
mentioned in the Doemonology. 

Henry Fairfax, bap. at Fewstou in 1619 A.D., said to 
have become a Jesuit priest. 

Of the daughters the eldest was Ellen, or Helen, Fairfax, 
who occupies the prominent place in the aforegoing narra- 
tive. She was baptized at Fewston in 1605 A.D., and 
married in 1636 A.D. Christopher Yates. From the affi- 
davits for marriage licenses at York in the above year, it 
would appear that a license to marry at either " Pateley 
Bridge or Fewston was granted to Christopher Yates, 


yeoman, of Pateley, and Ellen Fairfax, spinster, of the 
parish of Fewston." (Paver's Index, Brit. Mus.) 

Christopher Yates then of Padside made his will in 
1655 A.D., and it was proved in May, 1656 A.D. Therein 
he gives property to his wife Helen for life, and leaves her 
sole executrix. The children to whom legacies are given 
are, his eldest son Edward Yates, his second son John 
Yates, his third son Christopher Yates, and his two 
daughters Elizabeth and Magdalen Yates. 

The family of Yates was a respectable one of good 
yeoman rank, and somewhat numerous in the parishes of 
Hampsthwaite (at Padside) and Pateley. They inter- 
married with the Days of Menwith, and other local families 
of note. 

By the noncupative will of Dorothy, the widow of 
Edward Fairfax, in 1648 A.D., her daughter Helen Yates 
was left trustee for the portion of her niece Dorothy 
Richardson. Helen signs her name to this document by 
" her mark." 

Elizabeth Fairfax, the second daughter of Edward Fair- 
fax, was baptized at Fewston, Oct. 8th, 1608 A.D., and 
married after her father's death in 1635 A.D., Phillip 
Richardson. She was dead, however, before the making of 
the will of her mother in 1648 A.D., wherein her portion is 
left to her only child then young Dorothy Richardson. 

Phillip Richardson married, secondly, Grace mother of 
John Beckwith of Bewerley, whose wife was Mary, 
daughter of Charles Fairfax, of Menston. Administration 
to the effects of Phillip Richardson at Low Bishopside was 
granted to his widow (Grace) and his daughter Dorothy 
Richardson, Aug. 17th, 1670 A.D. 

In 1677 A.D. Abraham Pawson surrendered " a kiln 
belonging to a miln in Pateley Bridge," to the use of John 
Beckwith (son of Grace Richardson by her first husband) 
and Dorothy Richardson. (Thornton and Bishopside Court 

Mary Fairfax, the next daughter married, in 1641 A.D. 
Lawrence Scarborough, of Carleton-in-Craven. The grant 


of the marriage license names Addingham as the place for 
the marriage, and gives the following particulars : 
" Laurence Scarborough, parish of Carleton, aged 29 years, 
yeoman ; and Mary Fairfax, spinster, aged 23 years, of the 
parish of Addingham." (Paver's Index.) 

There are the following entries in Carleton Registers : 
" 1651 A.D., Ellen, daughter of Laurence Scarborough, 
baptized August 14th." " 1653 A.D., William, son of 
Laurence Scarborough, baptized." 

The fourth daughter, Anne Fairfax, was baptized at 
Fewston, June 12th, 1621 A.D., and buried there on Oct. 
7th in the same year. She is the infant supposed to have 
died by the instrumentality of witchcraft. 

The following is the will (non-cupative) before referred 
to, of the widow of Edward Fairfax : 

" The Eighteenth day of January 1648 A.D. Memorandum : 
that Dorothie ffairfax of Newhall in the Countie of Yorke, gentle- 
woman beinge sicke of bodye but perfect in minde and memorie 
did make her last will noncupative in these words, or to the like of 
this effect, ffirst her will and niinde was that all the moneys due 
unto her should be divided into three parts, whereof shee did give 
her daughter Ellen Yeats, wife of Christopher Yeats one thirde 
parte, another thirde parte shee did give to Mary Scarborough her 
daughter wife of Lawrence Scarborough, and the other thirde parte 
shee did give to Dorothie Richardson her grandoughter doughter 
of Phillip Richardson ; and further her will and minde was that 
the sayd thirde parte given to Dorothie Richardson should be payd 
to the said Ellen Yeats and remaine in her hands for the childe's 
use. (Signed) 






"Busky" or "Bosky" Dyke is a small dell formerly covered 
with bushes, hence its name. Across it runs the road from 
Fewston to Cragg Hall, near the northern margin of Fewston 
Reservoir. The spot has long had the character among the 
superstitious of being "haunted." In this place a Board school- 
room was erected in 1878 A.D. 

Busky-Dyke, the Busky-Dyke, 
Ah ! tread its path with care ; 
ith silent step haste through its shade, 
For " Bargest" wanders there! 

Since days when ev'ry wood and hill 

By Pan or Bel, was crowned ; 
And ev'ry river, brook, and copse 

Some heathen Goddess owned ; 

Since bright the Druid's altars blazed, 

And lurid shadows shed 
On Almas Cliff and Brandrith Rocks, 

Where human victims bled ; 

Hag-witches oft, 'neath Bestham oaks, 

Have secret revels kept ; 
And fairies danced in Clifton Field, 

When men, unconscious, slept ; 

Dark sprite and ghost of every form 

No man e'er saw the like 
Have played their pranks at midnight hours, 

In haunted Busky-Dyke. 


There milk-white cats, with eyes of fire, 
Have guarded stile and gate ; 

And calves and dogs of wondrous shape 
Have met the trav'ler late. 

And "Pad-foot " oft, in shaggy dress, 
With many a clanking chain, 

Before the astonished rustic's eyes 
Has vanished in the drain. 

On winter's eve, by bright wood fire, 

As winter winds do roar, 
And heap the snow on casement higher 

Or beat against the door, 

Long tales are told from sire to son, 

In many a forest ingle, 
Of rushing sounds and fearful sights, 

In Busky-Dyke's dark dingle. 

But lo, there now, as deftly reared, 

As if by magic wands, 
In superstition's own domain, 

A village school-room stands ! 

Where thickest fell the gloom of night, 

And terror held its sway, 
Now beams the rising sun of light, 

And intellectual day. 

Before its beams, its warmth, its power, 

Let every phantom melt, 
And children's gambols now be heard, 

Where "fearful bargest" dwelt. 

Yet softly tread, with rev'rent step, 

Along the Busky shade ; 
There ghosts our fathers feared of old 

Will be for ever " laid." 



' Treason doth never prosper; what's the reason ? 
Why, if it prosper, none dare call it treason." 

Sir John Harrington. 

direct proof of the connection of any 
of the conspirators in the Gunpowder Plot of 
November 5th, 1605 A.D., except Guy Fawkes, 
with the Forest of Knaresbrough, or its vicinity, is 
wanting, yet there are several striking incidents and 
coincidences, on which possibly more light may yet be 
thrown, but which even now are remarkable, and point to 
a strong probability of such a connection. 

The originator of the plot was Robert Catesby, a wealthy 
country gentlemen, of A.shby St. Ledgard in Northampton- 
shire. In him foresters have no interest, but the first persons 
to whom he imparted his secret and enlisted in the plot were 
Thomas AVinter, Thomas Percy, John Wright, and Guy 
Fawkes. All these are forest names, except that of 
Winter. But Winter and his two brothers, afterwards 
brought in, were the nephews of Sir William Ingilby of 
Ripley Castle, and so connected with the vicinity. Others 
were admitted afterwards to the plot, as their services 
on their money were needed. Among them were Robert 
and John Winter brothers of Thomas Winter, Christopher 
the brother of John Wright, Bates the servant of Catesby, 
Keyes, Garnet a priest, and also, it is said, one if not more 
of the name of Pulleine. 

In the time of Henry III. there is mention of Falcacius 
de Lyndeley. In the year 1300 A.D., FalJcasius de Lyndeley 
did homage to the Archbishop of York for possessions in 
Lindley. The same was repeated by Faucus de Lindley in 


1318 A.D. In the Subsidy Roll of 2nd Richard il. , we 
find, under the head " Villa de Ffarnelay," " Johannes 
Ffaukes et ux ejus, Osteler, xiid" and also " Willelmus 
Ffaukes et ux ejus iiij.d" In 1441 A.D., John Fawkes was 
one of the leaders of the forest men in the tumult, raised by 
them, against the tolls demanded in the markets at Ripon 
and Otley. Lindley is partly in the forest ; and Farnley, 
on the southern border and adjoining- Lindley, is still the 
seat of the influential and respected family of Fawkes. 

There has been some doubt as to whether Guy Fawkes, 
the conspirator, was an off shoot from this family or not. 
He was born in York, a"nd baptized, in the parish of St. 
Michael-le-Belfry there, on the 16th of April, 1570 A.D. 
The register is yet to be seen. His father was Edward 
Fawkes, registrar, and advocate in the Consistory Court of 
the Archbishop of that city, and died in 1578 A.D., when his 
son Guy would be about nine years of age. The wife 
of Edward, and mother of Guy and of his two sisters, Anne 
and Elizabeth, was named Edith, whose parentage and 
place of marriage are unknown. 

The late Robert Davies, Esqr. F.R.S. of York, in a 
pamphlet published some years ago on " The Fawkes of 
York," and to which the present writer is chiefly indebted 
for the information contained in this paper, gives the 
descent, and the supposed descent from the Fawkes of 
Farnley, of this family, as follows. 

The head of the House at Farnley, in the latter portion 
of the 15th century, was John Fawkes, Esq., holding 
under the Crown, the office of Steward of Knaresborough 
Forest. He died intestate in 1496 A.D., administration to 
his effects being granted, in the Prerogative Court at York, 
on the 4th of November in that year, to his eldest son, 
Nicholas Fawkes. He left three sons, viz., 
(1). NICHOLAS, who succeeded him at Farnley. 
(2). WILLIAM, who died, while residing in the family of 
Mr. Richard Laton, notary and advocate of York, 
unmarried, or leaving no issue. 
(3). HENKY, who was established in business as a 


merchant in York, and admitted to the freedom of the 
city in 1504 A.D. In 1522 A.D. he was also sword- 
bearer to the city. 

This Henry Fawkes had, at least, one son named 
REGINALD. He was admitted to the freedom of the city in 
1548 A.D., and is described in the city register as, " Regin- 
aldus Fawkes filius Henrici Fawkes, de Bbor. Gent." 

Reginald Fawkes succeeded his father in his municipal 
offices. In 1576 A.D. he married Alice Bilbowe, of Coney 
Street, and died, in 1591 A.D., leaving issue, with whom, 
however, we are not concerned. 

At the same period as Reginald Fawkes lived, there was 
also living in York a Mr. William Fawkes. He was 
settled in 1530 A.D. in the parish of St. Michael-le-Belfry, 
as a Notary and Proctor in the Ecclesiastical Courts. Mr. 
Davies supposes that he was a second son of Henry 
Fawkes and brother of Reginald, but the proof that he 
was so is wanting ; and this is the missing link, which 
may yet be supplied, to connect Guy Fawkes with the 
ancient and honourable house of Farnley. Seeing that he 
was of the same Christian name, William, was residing in 
the same parish, and following the same profession as 
William the brother of Henry, and at the very time that 
Henry's son Reginald, was occupying civil offices in the 
city, the coincidences are very remarkable, and seem to 
establish a presumption, little as possible short of proof, 
that he (William) was, as well as Reginald, a son of Henry 
Fawkes, merchant. 

William married Ellen, daughter of William Harrington, 
merchant, sheriff, and Lord Mayor (1531-6 A.D.). He was 
made registrar of the Exchequer Court in 1541 A.D., was 
living in 1558 A.D., and had, at least four children. 
(1). THOMAS, a merchant, who died without issue, in 

1581 A.D. 

(2). EDITH married John Foster. 
(3). married Humphrey Ellis. 
(4). EDWARD. 

The last followed the honourable profession of his father 


a notary and advocate in the Ecclesiastical Courts. He 
married a lady whose Christian name was Edith, but whose 
father's name and residence are undiscovered. They had 
four children baptized and registered in the parish of St- 
Michael-le- Belfry. 

ANNE in 1568 A.D., and died the same year. 

GUY in 1570 A.D., baptized April 16th 

ANNE in 1572 A.D. 

ELIZABETH in 1575 A.D. 

The grandmother of these children, Ellen, widow of 
William Fawkes, died in 1575 A.D., and among other 
bequests of her will is the following to her little grandson 
the future conspirator " Item-: I give to Guye Fawkes 
my beste whistle, and one ould angell of gould." 

Edward Fawkes, the father, died shortly afterwards, in 
1578 A.D.; thus leaving his wife, Edith, and three 
surviving children, of whom Guye, then about nine years 
of age, was the eldest. 

One thing should be noted here, viz., that the children of 
Edward and Edith Fawkes were all baptised in the Church 
of England, and also that, from entries in the parish books, 
both the parents were regular communicants at the church 
of St. Michael-le- Belfry. In his boyhood's days Guye 
attended the Free School in " le Horse Fayre," where he 
had, according to statements of Fuller and Strype, among 
his school companions, Thomas Morton afterwards Bishop 
of Durham, and Thomas eldest son of Sir Henry Cheke. 
It may also be noted that the master of this school at this 
time was John Pulleyn, B.A. He was appointed in 1575 
A.D., and held the mastership until his death in 1590 A.D. 

In 1581 A.D. Thomas Fawkes, the eldest brother of 
Edward Fawkes, and uncle of Guy, died, leaving his 
property to his two neices, Anne and Elizabeth, to the 
exclusion of his nephew. Their father, Edward, had died 
intestate, hence his real property would all be inherited by 
Guy, as the heir; which may well account for his uncle's 
will in favour of the sisters. 

These sisters of the conspirator have not been traced 


after this time, nor has any mention of them been found. 

The uncle's will contains, however, the following : "to 
Guye Fawkes, my nephewe, my golde ringe, and my bedde 
and my paire of shetes, with the appurtenances." 

About or perhaps a little before this time (1581 A.D.), 
an event had taken place which exercised most important 
influence upon the future of the young boy. It brought 
him, at the age of 12 or 13 years, to a home on the 
boundaries of our forest, and into contact with some if 
not several of those who were his companions in the plot 
five and twenty years afterwards. This event was the 
marriage of his mother, Edith, widow of Edward Fawkes, 
with Dionis Baynebridge or Bainbrigg, of Scotton. 

Scotton is now, as it was then, a small, pleasant hamlet, 
by the road leading from Knaresborough to Ripley, on the 
northern bank of the river Nidd, and separated from the 
forest by that river alone. It is supposed to derive its 
name, so says Hargrove, from early settlers from Scotland. 
"This village became," says the same historian, "the 
residence of the Percys and the Pulley nes, whose mansions 
still remaining are converted into farjn-houses. Percys' is 
now the property of William Roundell, Esq., and retains 

many marks of antiquity about it The house 

where the Pulleyns resided is the property of Sir T. T. 
Slingsby, Bart. It is a very large building, but hath 
undergone so thorough a repair, that scarce any marks of 
antiquity remain upon it." 

This was the place at which the young Guy Fawkes and 
his two sisters became the inmates of their step-father's, 
Dionis Bainbridge's, house. Assuming that this branch of 
the Fawkes's of York was descended from the Farnley 
family, there was already a connection by marriage 
between them and the Bainbridges. 

Anthony Fawkes, the eldest son of John of Farnley, in 
the earlier part of the 16th century, married Frances, 
daughter of Vavasour, of Weston, and died, before his 
father, at York, in 1551 A.D. Frances, his widow, married 
for her second husband, Peter Bainbridge, of Scotton, and 


their only son was the Dionis, or Dennis Bainbridge, who 
now married Edith, widow of Edward Fawkes, of York. 
Peter Bainbridge dying early, his widow, the mother of 
Dennis, then married for her third husband, Walter 
Pulleine, Esq., of Scotton (2nd wife). 

Thus we have closely connected, or residing in the same 
village at the time referred to, the three influential families 
of Percy, Pulleine, and Bainbridge. 

One of the family of the latter appears at one time to 
have possessed property, and resided, near Fewston, where 
a farm and farm-house, until lately owned by the Wright 
family of Beckwith, is still named Bainbridge Gate and 
Bainbridge House. A Captain Bainbridge resided at Moor 
Park, near Harrogate, within the last forty years. 

The Pulleines of Scotton, whether the original stem or 
an elder branch, were one of the three great parts of the 
clan of that name inhabiting the forest and its vicinity. 
There is a tradition that the name is derived from an early 
ancestor being master, or keeper, of the colts or young 
(pulli) horses belonging to the King in Knaresborough 
Forest. The crest of the Scotton branch was " a colt's 
head erased sable, bridled or." The other branches 
resided chiefly in the parish of Fewston and at Killinghall, 
both within the Forest. The crest used by that at 
Fewston, however, was a pelican feeding its young from 
its breast. A square of glass bearing this remained in the 
window of their old residence, near Fewston Church, until 
removed at the demolition of the house about the year 1876 
A.D. It is now in the possession of Mr. B. B. Kent of 
Men with Hill. Walter Pulleine at the time of our story 
represented the family at Scotton. He was a Romanist, 
and one, if not more of his sons and grandsons, were 
Romish priests. 

The Percys of Scotton were an off-shoot of the great 
family of the name Earls of Northumberland. Spofforth, 
which had formerly been a chief residence of the house, 
but dismantled after the Battle of Towton, was only a few 
miles to the south : while Topliffe, a favourite residence of 


the Dukes until a short time before, was only a like dis- 
tance to the north. 

There is no direct proof that Thomas Percy, a leading 
spirit in the plot, was of the Scotton branch. But Francis 
Percy, the head of the house in 1585 A.D., who had also 
married a Vavasour of Weston, had, among his five sons, 
one named Thomas, who is unaccounted for in the pedi- 
grees of 1612 A.D. Considering, therefore, that Guy 
Fawkes was brought up with this family here, and that 
the two names are so closely associated afterwards, the 
coincidence is, at least, significant. The family were 
zealous Roman Catholics. The wife of Thomas Percy, 
the conspirator, was sister of the brothers John and 
Christopher Wright, also conspirators. They are said to 
have sprung from Welwick, in Holderness, and to have 
been Protestants, but that both they and their sister were 
won over to the Romish faith by Percy. 

Thus it is seen, that the marriage of Edith, widow of 
Edward Fawkes of York, transplanted her and her children 
into a hotbed of Romanism at Scotton, and, also, into close 
connection with important Romanist families bearing the 
same names as several of the future co-partners with her 
son in the conspiracy of 1605 A.D. And we are not 
surprised, from their surroundings, to find that the mother 
adopted the faith of her second husband, and that her son 
the son of the Protestant Edward Fawkes of York, 
did the same with all the fanaticism of a pervert. 

Here it was that, asssuming Thomas Percy to be of 
the Scotton family, the young Guy would first make his 
acquaintance, and that of Percy's brothers-in-law, the 
Wrights. He would also probably have the opportunity 
of doing the same with Thomas, Robert, and John Winter. 
Their father was Robert Winter, of Caudwell in Worcester- 
shire, but their mother was Jane, daughter of Sir William 
Ingilby of Ripley, and their mother's aunt was Frances 
(nee Ingilby), wife of James Pulleyne, Esq., of Killinghall. 
Ripley, where it may well be supposed the nephews of 
Sir William would often be visitors, is but a short walk 



from Scotton, and the families, being all related, would, 
no doubt, be more or less associated on terms of consider- 
able intimacy. 

These facts and probabilities, incidents and coincidences, 
taken together shew, without much doubt, that Knares- 
borough foresters had, at one period, as their neighbours 
or visitors, a considerable number of that band of mis- 
guided, though sincere and conscientious men, who by 
"the Gunpowder Plot of the 5th of November, 1605 A.D.," 
placed a landmark and blot, which will ever remain, in our 
national history. 

In 1591 AJ). Guy Fawkes attained the age of 21 years, 
and soon afterwards he is found disposing of the small 
property, inherited from his father, in the neighbourhood 
of York. His seal on one of the deeds of sale yet in 
existence bears, what appears to be, a falcon. A Falcon 
is the crest of the Farnley family. 

A tradition exists in the neighbourhood that he was, for 
a time, parish clerk at Spofforth. The writer has, however, 
seen no evidence to support the tradition, or to point to the 
probability of its truth. 

In 1593 or 4 A.D., having disposed of his small inherit- 
ance, he left England to seek his fortune in the armies of 
the Continent ; and ultimately was engaged with those of 
Spain. His being so may explain the habit he had, after- 
wards, of writing his name, according to the Spanish form, 
" Guido " instead of Guy. 

In 1604 A.D., when Robert Catesby conceived his 
diabolical plan for the destruction of the King and Parlia- 
ment, he communicated it first to Thomas Winter, the 
younger of the three brothers above mentioned, and sent 
him to sound the Spanish Ambassador in the Low Countries 
as to the project. 

At Ostend Thomas Winter met with his probably former 
acquaintance, Guy Fawkes, and induced him to return with 
him to England. There Catesby, John Wright, Thos. Percy 
(to whom Catesby had opened the matter), and Thomas 
Winter, explained the project to him and enlisted him in it. 


It is not necessary to enter into the well-known history, 
and to repeat, how the plot was laid, discovered the 
conspirators seized, Guy in the very act of examining, in 
the dark vault, on that ever historical morning of November 
5th, 1605 A.D., the trains of powder which he was to 
explode as soon as the intended victims were assembled. 

Guy Fawkes and Thomas Winter, who also was taken 
in London, were at once sent to the Tower. Fawkes was 
frequently examined and, under torture, urged in vain to 
reveal the names of his companions. On the 31st of 
January, 1606 A.D., the two were drawn from the Tower 
to the Old Palace at Westminster, " over against the 
Parliament House," and there beheaded. Robert Winter, 
and others, also died on the scaffold. Catesby, Percy, 
John and Christopher Wright, with others, had shut them- 
selves up in Holbeach House in Worcestershire, where 
they were beseiged by the sheriff of that county. They 
were, ultimately, driven out by fire being set to the doors, 
&c., and all fell mortally wounded, in endeavouring to 
escape, in the court yard. 

Nothing could possibly justify the crime in which these 
men were engaged, and in which they perished. Yet few 
persons will fail to admire the constancy and firmness, with 
which Fawkes, at least, met the just reward of his deeds. 
When asked, "If he was not sorry for what he had 
intended to do? " he replied, " I was moved only by con- 
science and reason, and I am sorry for nothing but that 
the act was not performed." No torture of the rack could 
wring from him a betrayal of his friends. " Notwith- 
standing," wrote Lord Salisbury, " he confesseth all things 
of himself, and denieth not to have some partners in this 
particular practice, yet could no threatening of torture 
draw from him any other language than this, that he is 
ready to die and rather wished ten thousand deaths, than 
willingly accuse his master or any other." 

When men of position and education like Percy, Fawkes, 
the Wrights, the Winters, and others of the same stamp 
not ruffians and cut-throats as they have been too fre- 


quently represented, engaged in a scheme, such as theirs, 
to murder the King and the whole legislature of the 
country, it could only have been possible, from their having 
been driven to despair by the spirit of the legislation to 
which they were subjected. Romanists they were, but 
also men and educated Englishmen and that they should, 
even for a moment, entertain such a hellish design is only 
to be explained by this, and by the penal laws enacted 
against them, their co-religionists and their religion, having 
been prssed upon them beyond human endurance. 

The sooner, therefore, the memory of the whole matter, 
as one of recrimination or party triumph between English- 
men, is relegated to the regions of the past, the better it 
will be for the credit of all the parties immediately con- 
cerned in it, and the more it will speak for the progress of 
the common Christian forbearance, and charity, of our 
own, or any future, age. 

00 O 0O,O 0O ,,0 < 



warmth and conscious strength, full-blown, free, 

Life throbs through ev'ry vein of nature fair ; 

With busy forms and sounds it fills the air : 
Robes dark and rich are cast o'er shrub and tree, 
And deep new instincts breathe in gnat and bee. 

With joys parental full mute are the birds ; 

In satisfaction stand, replete, the herds 
In cooling streams of crystal Wharfe or Dee. 
On every flower and fast-maturing seed, 

On every waving crop, ay, every clod, 
Is force and beauty writ ; in all we read 

The power of nature, nay, of nature's God ! 
Man, basking in the sunshine of that power, 
Rests, till autumn fruits on him it shower. 



"Libera terra; liberque animus." 
(Frank land ; Frank mind.) 

The family motto. 

township and manor of Bluberhouses, which, for 
three hundred years, have belonged to the honour- 
able family of Frankland, were originally a portion 
of the Forest. In the reign of King John, William de 
Stuteville was Lord of Knaresborough and alienated this 
portion of his charge, no doubt with the King's consent, to 

By the family of Robert-le-Forester, the manor and 
lands were given to the Priory of Bridlington, and the gift 
was confirmed, and the lands "disafforested" in 1226 
A.D., by Richard, Earl of Poicton and Cornwall, who was, 
at that time, Lord of Knaresborough. The Prior and 
Brethren of Bridlington, after sundry contests and law- 
suits, about the rights of common pasture on the moors, with 
their brethren of Bolton Priory, and regarding a portion 
of the township with Brian de Insula, and Robert de Percy 
lords of the two Timbles (Timble Brian and Timble Percy) 

* In the Eegister of Archbishop Grey, of York (1216-1255 A.D.), there 
is frequent mention of the name " Forestarius," in connection with grants 
of lands and of wardships in the neighbourhood. This family would 
seem to have been tenants on the Archbishop's manor of Otley, and as 
the part of that manor most connected with the forest was the township 
of Little Timble, they probably resided there, and may possibly be the 
same as the "del woods " of later times. 


held the manor and estate of Bluberhouse until the disso- 
lution of the monasteries in the reign of Henry VIII. 
Among the list of their possession surrendered to the king 
at that time is, 

" Blauverhouse, land and manor value (annual) ,10." 

In the 5th year of Elizabeth's reign, 1562 A.D., the 
lordship of Bluberhouses, with " the scite and mansion of 
the Hall," was granted by the Crown to Thomas Wood, 
Gentleman, and William Frankland of the Ryes, in the 
County of Hereford, and his heirs. 

William Frankland, thus first brought into contact with 
the Forest, would seem to have belonged to the Guild of 
Clothworkers in the City of London, and though described 
as of the Ryes, to have been a member of an ancient York- 
shire family, which appears, in the earliest records, as 
settled at Thornton- Bishopside in Nidderdale. 

It is impossible to give anything like a full pedigree of 
the several branches of this family, within the compass of 
one of these forest " leaves," but the following outline of 
that of the forest branch will be of interest to foresters. 

The name " Franklyn," or " Frankland," points to Saxon 
times, and to an honourable source, for its origin. 

In the computus of the Bursar of Fountains Abbey in 
1457-8 A.D., there is mention of John Franklan as con- 
nected with that foundation. 

I. In the Subsidy Roll for the Wapentake of Claro 
16th Edward IV. (1475 A.D.), John Franklyn, and Roger 
Franklyn appear as of Thornton-Bishopside. 

II. In 1504 A.D., Robert Frankland of Linton-in- 
Craven made his will, and directed his body to be buried 
in the Church of St. Michael there, on the north side ; and 
gave bequests " to the fabric at Bolton," " to the kirk 
work at Ripon," to the Abbot of Coverham "to pray for 
my soul," to his brother William and his son John ; to his 
brother Roger and sons, William and John ; and appointed 
his wife to be executrix. 

By the Valor Ecclesiasticus (26 Henry VIII.), it appears, 
that the Abbot and Brethren of Fountains had property at 


Linton ; and there can be little doubt but that Robert 
Frankland was their tenant at that place. 

III. John Frankland de Lynton, grandson of the above 
Robert, made his will in 1544 A.D., and describing himself 
as of Grassington i.e. in the parish of Linton, shews his 
connection with the John and Roger Franklyn of Thornton, 
in 1574 A.D., by referring to " my lands in Bishopside 
held of the Archbishop." He also mentions Thomas Frank- 
land, son of his brother Richard Frankland ; Elizabeth his 
daughter, wife of John Pearte ; Jennet his sister, wife of 
Christopher Oldfield ; and he leaves the sum of 3s. 4d. for 
the vestures or ornaments about the altar in the church at 
Lynton, and to the repair at Lynton Bridge. 

IV. William Frankland of Thurley, in Bedfordshire, 
is stated in the pedigrees to have been a brother of the 
above John de Lynton, and son of William de Lynton. 

V. The children of William Frankland of Thurley are 
given as, (1) John the ancestor of the Franklands of 
Thurley : (2) Thomas : (3) Richard : and, by some authori- 
ties, (4) William, born 1490 A.D., and who became Rector 
of Houghton-le- Spring, in county of Durham, in 1522 A.D., 
Chancellor to Bishops Ruthal, Wolsey, and Tunstall ; and, 
in 1538 A.D., Dean of Windsor and Rector of Chalfont, in 
the County of Bucks, where he died in 1557 A.D. s Dean 
Frankland was one of the prominent and remarkable men 
of the stirring times in which he lived. His will, a copy of 
which cannot now be found, was the subject of consider- 
able litigation in the oth of Elizabeth, on account of some 
bequests therein to " superstitious uses." His place in the 
family pedigree is somewhat uncertain, as there are some 
reasons which seem to point to his having been the son, 
not the brother, of Richard Frankland of Nelsing. 

VI. Richard Frankland, the third son of the above 
William Frankland of Thurley, resided at Nelsing or 
Nealsing, a farm in the parish of Giggleswick, and at no 
great distance from his ancestors' home in the parish of 
Linton. He was at Nelsing as early as the 23rd Henry 
VII. (1507 A.D.) for the Abbot of Salley sued " Richard 


Frankelyn nuper de Nelesing" in that year in the matter 
of a debt. (Recovery Bolls, 28 Henry VII.) His will is 
dated April 10th, 1532 A.D., and was proved in July of 
that year. 

The sons of Eichard Frankland of Nelsing were, (1) 
Hugh of Nelsing, from whom descended (son) Richard 
Frankland, of York, and (grandson) Sir Henry Frankland, 
of Aldwark, near that city, also William Frankland, of 
Hough ton-le- Spring, and two, if not three, other sons ; (2) 
William Frankland of the Ryes, in the County of Herts, to 
whom the grant of Bluberhouse was made in 1562 A.D., 
and who died in 1577 A.D. (3) Richard Frankland, of 
Bluberhouses ; and two daughters. 

VII. William Frankland of the Ryes had only one 
grandson, who was a minor in 1583 A.D., and probably 
died under age without issue. By his will, dated August 
19th, 1574 A.D., he (William of the Ryes) gave to his 
brother Richard and his son Hugh " the Manor of Bluber- 
houses, and all his lands there and at Fuiston," and, also, 
he gave to the master and wardens of the Guild or 
Fraternity of Cloth workers in London, two tenements in 
Thames Street, upon the condition to pay 20s. a year for 
purposes mentioned, and also 3 a year to the pear .of 
Somdrscales, Hazelwood, and Storiths, in the parish of 
Skipton, when any of them should demand it." 

From this will, it will be seen that there was property, 
probably a portion of the Crown grant, in the township 
of Fewston, as well as in that of Bluberhouses. 

VIII. Richard Frankland, of Fewston, brother to the 
above William, succeeded under his brother's will, to the 
estate there. His sons were : 

(1) Hugh Frankland, of Thirkleby and Roche Abbey, 
born at Fewston. The will of this Hugh is dated 20th 
January, 1606 A.D., and was proved November, 1607 A.D 
He was cousin to William Frankland, of Houghton-le- 
Spring (whose will at Durham date 1589 A.D., see) thus 
proving his father, Richard, and his uncle William of the 
Ryes, to have been brothers of Hugh of Nelsing, whose 


son William, of Houghton-le- Spring, was. He married, 
but left no issue, and appears to have been the first of the 
name at Thirkleby, which has since his time been the 
principal seat of the family. 

(2) The second son of Richard Frankland was Ralph 
Frankland of Fewston, who was aged 60 years in 1607 
A.D., and succeeded his brother Hugh, in that year, in the 
family estates. A servant of " Ralph Frankland " is 
mentioned in Fairfax's Dasmonology in 1620 A.D. He was 
buried at Fewston, 21st February, 1630 A.D. 

(3) The third son was John Frankland, whose children 
were Richard of Thirkleby and Roche Abbey ; John, 
baptized at Fewston, 1599 A.D. ; and Mary, baptized 
September 9th, 1628 A.D. He (John) died August, 1656 
A.D. A wife (1st) predeceased him, and was buried at 
Fewston, June llth, 1620 A.D. 

Besides the above three sons, Richard Frankland had 
four daughters, viz : Ann, wife of John Jeff ray (m. 1594 
A.D.), will dated 30th May, 1633 A.D., described as of 
Clifton Hamlet. His Daughter, Maud, is mentioned in 

Fairfax's Deemonology ; wife of Gill ; Mary, 

wife of William Curtis (m. 1608 A.D.) ; and wife 

of Holmes. 

IX. Hugh Frankland, of Thirkleby, eldest son of 
Richard, as above, by his will dated 26th September, 1599 
A.D., left to his wife Johanna the Thirkleby estate for life, 
Richard, the son of his brother John, to succeed her ; to 
his brothers Ralph and John, his " monasteries " of Roche 
Abbey ; to Richard, his brother Ralph's son, 10 ; to 
William, his brother Ralph's son, his property at Ryes ; to 
the poor of the parish of Fewston, " where I was born," 
6 13s. 4d. ; and to his sister, Ann Carlisle, 40s. 

X. Ralph Frankland of Fewston, 2nd son of Richard 
had sons. (1) William Frankland of Thirkleby. (2) 
Richard Frankland of Fewston, who appears to have been 
married and had a daughter, Joan, who married (about 
1638 A.D.) Thomas Palliser of Newby Wiske (see Dug- 
dale's Visitation) and whose second son, William Palliser 


(born 1643 A.D.) became Archbishop of Cashel. (3) 
Ralph Frankland, buried at Fewston June 22nd, 1629 A.D., 
and (4) a daughter, Frances, married Hugh Bethel. 
Ralph Frankland was himself buried, as before stated, 
February 21st, 1630 A.D. 

By a copy of Court Roll still extant, dated 7th June, 
1638 A.D., William Frankland of Thirkleby, Henry 
Frankland, Knight, his son and heir apparent, and Richard 
Frankland " de ffuiston" gentlemen, surrendered in the 
Forest Court at Knaresbrough a messuage and 30 acres of 
land (easily identified as Cragg Hall and the land of which 
the estate originally consisted) to the use of Henry 
Fairfax of Newton Kyme, clerk, and his heirs. 

From a survey of the Forest in 1613 A.D., it appears 
that Mr. John Frankland's copyhold land in Fewston 
" lay south of Meagill." This is the situation of Cragg 
Hall with regard to that hamlet. It is thus gathered 
that Cragg Hall was the property continually referred 
to as " in Fewston," and parted with, as above, in 
1638 A.D., after which no such property is mentioned. 
The "Hall" is a late Elizabethan, or early Jacobean, 
erection, and may possibly have been built by William 
Frankland of Ryes, or his brother, Richard Frankland, 
who succeeded him, and who is described as of Fewston. 

One peculiarity, regarding Cragg Hall estate, was that 
the tithe, arising therefrom, was a separate property from 
the other tithes of the parish, and was frequently dealt 
with apart from them, and apart from the estate at 
this period. 

XI. William Frankland of Thirkleby, eldest son of 
Ralph Frankland of Fewston, married Lucy, daughter 
of Sir Henry Botler of Hatfield-Woodhouse, county of 
Herts, and was elected to represent Thirsk, in Parliament, 
in 1628 A.D., and again in 1640 A.D. 

XII. His son, Sir Henry Frankland, knight, succeeded 
him to Thirkleby and Bluberhouses. 

XIII. Sir William Frankland, knight, born in 1638 
A.D., succeeded his father Sir Henry, and married Arabella, 


daughter of Henry Bellasis, eldest son of Lord Faucon- 
berg. He was created a baronet by Charles II., in 1660 
A.D., and died in 1687 A.D. Five children survived him, 
of whom 

XIV Sir Thomas Frankland, Bart., was his successor, 
and married Elizabeth, daughter of Sir John Russell, 
Bart., of Chippenham, in the county of Cambridge, and 
grandaughter of Oliver Cromwell. He had seven sons 
and three daughters. Sir Thomas the eldest, Henry of 
Mattersea, in the county of Notts, and Governor of 
Fort William, in the Presidency of Bengal, in India. 
Frederick, who twice represented Thirsk in Parliament; 
and Robert, murdered with other Europeans at Jeddo, 
on the Persian Gulf. One daughter, Frances, married 
Roger Talbot, Esq., of Wood End, and another, Mary, 
married Thomas Worsley, Esq., of Hovingham. 

XV. Sir Thomas Frankland, the 3rd baronet, was 
much employed in the service of the State, and four, times 
represented Thirsk in the House of Commons. His wife 
was Dinah, daughter of Francis Topham, Esq., of Ogle- 
thorpe, by whom he had two daughters. One of them 
(a descendant of Oliver Cromwell) married the Earl of 
Lichfield, who was a descendant of Charles I., and so 
united these once discordant lines. Sir Thomas, leaving 
no surviving son, was followed in the baronetcy and 
estates by 

XVI. Charles Henry Frankland, his nephew, and son of 
Henry Frankland of Mattersea. Charles Henry Frank- 
land, born in 1706 A.D., was for many years (from 1738 
A.D.) before succeeding to the family honours and 
property, and also after doing so, collector of customs at 
Boston in America, and afterwards Consul General to 
Lisbon. While in Boston he was visited in 1742 A.D. 
by his brother, and successor to the title, Thomas 
Frankland, who at that time was captain of H.M. frigate 
Rose. While there he fell in love with, and married (on a 
second visit), Sarah, the daughter of Judge Rhett of South 
Carolina. The following complimentary lines to him on 


the occasion of his visit were published in the Boston 
Evening Post at that time. 

" To Captain Frankland, Commander of His Majesty's Ship Rose, 
now in Boston." 

" From peaceful solitude and calm retreat, 
I now and then look out upon the great ; 
Praise where 'tis due I'll give ; no servile tool 
Of honourable knave, or reverend fool j 
Surplice or red-coat, both alike to me ; 
Let him that wears them great and worthy be, 
Whether a coward in the camp or post, 
Traitor in want, or traitor in the court, 
Alike reward their cowardice deserves ; 
Alike their treachery, he who eats or starves, 
Or brave by land, or hero on the main, 
Alike respect their courage should sustain. 
Then let me lisp thy name, thy praise rehearse, 
Though in weak numbers and in feeble verse. 
Though faint the whisper when the thunder roars, 
And speak thee great through all Hispania's shores, 
Still safe in port the red-coat chief may scare, 
Dread of the boys, and favourite of the fair, 
Still shudder at the dangers of the deep ; 
To arms an enemy, but a friend to sleep. 
We see thee, Frankland, dreadful o'er the main, 
Not terrible to children, but to Spain. 
With thee, thy dawning beams of glory play, 
And triumph in the prospect of the day. 
O, let the kindling spark, the glowing fire 
Your generous soul inflame, as once your sire,* 
With him the schemes of tyranny oppose, 
And love your country as you hate her foes." 

The engagement and ultimate marriage of Sir Charles 
Henry Frankland, the collector at Boston, with Agnes 
Surriage of Marblehead a village in Massachusetts, U.S. 
have been the subject of much romance. A full account 
of the matter was published in a learned and pleasant volume 
of 130 pages from the pen of Elias Nason, at Albany, U.S. 
America, in 1865 A.D., and previously it had formed the 
subject of 0. Wendell Holmes's ballad of Agnes. Sir 
C. H. Frankland died at Bath 1768 A.D. without issue. 

* His great grandfather Oliver Cromwell. 


XVII. The successor of Sir Charles Henry Frankland in 
the family honours and estates was his brother, Sir Thomas 
Frankland, who, as is before mentioned, married Sarah 
Rhett of South Carolina. He was successively Admiral 
of the Red, then of the White, in the King's fleet. He 
died, also at Bath, November 21st, 1784 A.D., leaving a 
large family of sons and daughters. 

XVIII. His eldest son, another Sir Thomas Frankland, 
Bart., succeeded. He married Dorothy, daughter of Wm. 
Smelt, Esq., of the Leases, represented Thirsk in Par- 
liament, was High Sheriff of Yorkshire in 1792 A.D., and 
died in 1831 A. D. only one out of five children surviving 
him, viz., 

XIX. Sir Robert Frankland Bart., was his successor. 
Sir Robert was born in 1784 A.D., married, in 1815 A.D., 
Louisa Anne, third daughter of Lord George Murray, 
Bishop of St. David's. In 1836 A.D., he assumed the 
name of Russell. He was M.P. for Thirsk from 1815 A.D., 
to 1834 A.D. ; High Sheriff of Yorkshire in 1838 A.D., 
and died March llth, 1849 A.D., leaving five daughters, 
but no male issue. 

His widow, the late Lady Frankland Russell, built and 
endowed, in 1856 A.D., the pretty rural church on the old 
family estate at Bluberhouses ; and also the Hall there, 
now used by Lord Walsingham as a shooting box. It is a 
curious coincidence that Lady Frankland Russel, the widow 
of the last of the Franklands of Bluberhouses, unconscious 
of the connection, caused many of the architectural details 
for the Hall she erected there, to be copied from those at 
Cragg Hall, which, in all probability, was erected by 
William Frankland, Esq., to whom the estate three hundred 
years before was originally granted, or by Richard Frank- 
land, Esq., his brother, and successor. The Baronetcy, 
on the death of Sir Robert Frankland Russell, descended 
to the heir male, his cousin, Frederick Frankland, 
who thus became Sir Frederick Frankland, and was 
succeeded by his son, Sir William Frankland, Bart., in 
1880 A.D. The family estates, however, did not accompany 


the title, and the present Baronet has, therefore, now no 
connection with the forest. 

The youngest of the five daughters of Sir Robert 
Frankland Russell, Rosalind Alicia, married, in 1854 A.D. 
Francis Le Strange Astley, Esq., nephew of Lord Hastings; 
Julia Roberta, the fourth daughter, in 1845 A.D. married 
Ralph Neville, Esq.. M.P., son of the Dean of Windsor 
and nephew of the second Lord Braybrooke ; Emily Ann, 
the third, married in 1874 A.D. Sir William Payne Galwey 
(who died December 1881 A.D.), and inherited the estate 
and hall at Thirkleby; the second daughter, Caroline 
Agnes, died unmarried in 1846 A.D. Augusta Louisa, the 
eldest, married, in 1842 A.D., Thomas, fifth Lord 
Walsingham of Merton Hall, Norfolk, and to her only 
son, the Right Honourable Thomas, sixth Lord Walsing- 
ham, the present owner who succeeded to the title on 
his father's death in 1871 A.D. descended the old family 
property of the Franklands at Bluberhouses, and also that 
at Aldwark near York. Lord Walsingham occasionally 
makes the Hall at Bluberhouses his residence, and enjoys, 
among other pleasures of this beautiful spot, the unequalled 
grouse shooting* on the blue hills and moors from which 
the village receives its name. 

* In 1872 A.D. his Lordship made in one day of 14 hours, with his 
own gun, on Bluberhouses Moor, the hitherto unequalled bag of 423 
brace of grouse. 







'HE circumstances of this romance, alluded to 
in a previous page, were as follow : Charles 
Henry Frankland, Esq., heir apparent of the 
Franklands, was in 1738 A.D., appointed collector of 
customs at Boston in America, and soon after saw, 
and fell in love with, Agnes Surriage then a village 
maiden at Marblehead a few miles from Boston. He 
had her taken to that city, and there educated in 
all lady-like learning and accomplishments. Her beauty, 
refinement, and gentle manners, won the hearts of all with 
whom she came in contact. But the patron-lover seems to 
have feared to make her his wife, and, ultimately, a sinful 
relationship was entered into between them. Fleeing from 
Boston society, he purchased a large property in Hopkinton 
a place 25 miles from that city, and there, in 1751 
A.D., on a beautiful and romantic site, built a large mansion 
furnished and embellished it with all that wealth could 
procure, and there resided for several years. In 1747 
A.D., he had succeeded, by the death of his uncle, to 
the Baronetcy and estates at Thirkleby and Bluber- 
houses; and in 1754 A.D., a law suit with his uncle's 
widow, with reference to her husband's will, called him 


over to Europe. He came, accompanied by Agnes, and the 
law matter settled, they went on a tour on the continent. 
November 1755 A.D. found them at Lisbon. On the 1st of 
that month occurred the terrible earthquake, by which the 
city was laid in ruins, and 50,000 of its inhabitants swal- 
lowed up. Sir Charles Henry Frankland was buried 
beneath a portion of the ruins of the cathedral. Agnes 
rushed from her lodgings, regardless of the still falling 
houses, in search of him. Clambering over a heap of ruins 
she heard moans from beneath, and then a voice which she 
recognized as that of him of whom she was in search. He 
was extricated, and, though at death's door, he ultimately 
recovered. His first act on recovery was to repair, so far 
as possible, the injury he had done his faithful deliverer, 
by an immediate marriage. And thus Agnes Surriage 
became Lady Frankland. 

This is the story very briefly stated as related by 
Elias Mason in his book entitled, " Sir Charles Henry 
Frankland, or Boston in Colonial times." It is the subject 
of the beautiful ballad of " Agnes " by Oliver Wendell 
Holmes. The whole poem is too long to find a place here, 
but it is so pretty, that the desire to enrol, at least, the 
leading parts of it, among the Lays of the Forest is 


" The tale I tell is gospel true, 

As all the bookmen know, 
And pilgrims who have strayed to view 

The wrecks still left to show. 
The old, old story, fair, and young, 

And fond and not too wise 
That matrons tell, with sharpened tongue 
To maids with downcast eyes. 


'Tis like some poet's pictured trance 

His idle rhymes recite, 
This old New-England born romance 

Of Agnes and the Knight. 


Yet, known to all the country round, 

Their home is standing still, 
Between Wachuset's lonely mound 

And Shawmut's threefold hill. 

One hour we rumble on the rail, 

One half-hour guide the rein, 
We reach at last, o'er hill and dale, 

The village on the plain. 

With blackening walls and mossy roof, 

With stained and warping floor, 
A stately mansion stands aloof, 

And bars its haughty door. 

This lowlier portal may be tried, 

That breaks the gabled wall ; 
And lo ! with arches opening wide, 

Sir Harry Frankland's hall ! 

'Twas in the Second George's day, 

They sought the forest shade, 
The knotted trunks they cleared away, 

The massive beams they laid. 

They piled the rock-hewn chimney tall, 

They smoothed the terrace-ground, 
They reared the marble-pillared hall, 

That fenced the mansion round. 

Far stretched beyond the village bound, 

The master's broad domain ; 
With page and valet, horse and hound, 

He kept a goodly train. 


* * * * * * 

Her place is at the master's board, 

Where none disputes her claim, 
She walks besides the mansion's lord, 

His bride in all but name. 



The busy tongues have ceased to talk, 

Or speak in softened tone, 
So gracious is her daily walk 

The angel light has shown. 

No want that kindness may relieve 

Assails her heart in vain, 
The lifting of a ragged sleeve 

Will check her palfrey's rein. 

A thoughtful calm, a quiet grace, 

In every movement shown, 
Reveal her moulded for the place, 

She may not call her own. 

And, save that on her youthful brow 

There broods a shadowy care, 
No matron, sealed with holy vow, 

In all the land so fair. 


A ship comes foaming' up the bay, 

Along the pier she glides ; 
Before her furrow melts away, 

A courier mounts and rides. 

" Haste, Haste, Post Haste ! " the letters bear ; 

" Sir Harry Frankland, these." 
Sad news to tell the loving pair ! 

The Knight must cross the seas. 

" Alas, we part ! " the lips that spoke, 

Lost all their rosy red, 
As when a crystal cup is broke, 

And all its wine is shed. 

" Nay, droop not thus where'er," he says, 

" I go by land or sea, 
My love, my life, my joy, my pride, 

Thy place is still by me ! " 


Through town and city, far and wide, 
Their wandering feat have strayed, 

From Alpine lake to ocean tide, 
And cold Sierra's shade. 

At length they see the waters gleam, 
Amid the fragrant bowers, 

Where Lisbon mirrors in the stream 
Her belt of ancient towers. 

Red is the orange on its bough, 
To-morrow's sun shall fling 

O'er Cintra's hazel-shaded brow, 
The flush of April's wing. 

The streets are loud with noisy mirth, 
They dance on every green ; 

The morning's dial marks the birth 
Of proud Braganza's queen. 

Ah ! Lisbon dreams not of the day 
Pleased with her painted scenes 

When all her towers shall slide away 
As now these canvas screens ! 

The spring has passed, the summer fled, 

And yet they linger still, 
Though autumn's rustling leaves have spread, 

The flank of Cintra's hill. 

The town has learned their Saxon name, 
And touched their English gold, 

Nor tale of doubt, nor hint of blame 
From over sea, is told. 

Three hours, the first November dawn 

Has climbed with feeble ray 
Through mists, like heavy curtains drawn, 

Before the darkened day. 


How still the muffled echoes sleep ! 

Hark ! hark ! a hollow sound, 
A noise like chariots rumbling deep, 

Beneath the solid ground. 

The channel lifts, the water slides, 

And bares its bar of sand, 
Anon a mountain billow strides 

And crashes o'er the land. 

The turrets lean, the steeples reel, 

Like masts on ocean's swell, 
And clash a long discordant peal, 

The death-doomed city's knell. 

The pavement bursts, the earth upheaves, 

Beneath the staggering town ! 
The turrets crack, the castle cleaves 

The spires come rushing down. 

Around, the lurid mountains glow, 
With strange, unearthly, gleams ; 

While black abysses gape below, 
Then close in jagged seams. 

The earth has folded like a wave, 

And thrice a thousand score, 
Clasped, shroudless, in then- closing grave, 

The sun shall see no more ! 

And all is over. Street and square 

In ruined heaps are piled ; 
Ah ! where is she, so frail, so fan:, 

Amid the tumult wild ? 

Unscathed, she treads the wreck-piled street, 

Whose narrow gaps afford, 
A pathway for her bleeding feet, 

To seek her absent lord. 


A temple's broken walls arrest, 

Her wild and wandering eyes ; 
Beneath its shattered portal pressed, 

Her lord unconscious lies. 

The power that living hearts obey, 

Shall lifeless blocks withstand ? 
Love led her footsteps where he lay, 

Love nerves her woman hand. 

One cry, the marble shafts she grasps, 

Upheaves the ponderous stone ; 
He breathes ; her fainting form he clasps, 

Her life has bought his own. 

. PART V. 

How dark the starless night of death, 

Our being's brief eclipse, 
When faltering heart and failing breath, 

Have bleached the fading lips ! 

She lives ! What guerdon shall repay 

His debt of ransomed life ? 
One word can charm all wrongs away, 

The sacred name of wife ? 

The love that won her girlish charms 

Must shield her matron fame, 
And write beneath the Frankland arms 

The village beauty's name. 

Go, call the priest ! no vain delay 

Shall dim the sacred ring ! 
Who knows what change the passing day, 

The fleeting hour may bring ? 

Before the holy altar bent, 

There kneels a goodly pair ; 
A stately man, of high descent, 

A woman, passing fair. 


No jewel lends the blinding- sheen 

The meaner beauty needs 
But on her bosom heaves unseen, 

A string of golden beads. 

The vow js spoke, the prayer is said, 

And with a gentle pride, 
The lady Agnes lifts her head, 

Sir Harry Frankland's bride." 


Sir Charles Henry Frankland and his wife returned 
to Boston, and to their country residence at Hopkinton. He 
was afterwards twice Consul General at Lisbon. In 1767 
A.D. they came again to England and resided at Bath, 
where as before stated, he died in 1768 A.D. In Weston 
Church, in the suburbs of that city, there is the following 

" To the memory of Sir Charles Henry Frankland of Thirkleby 
in the County of York, Baronet, Consul General for many years 
at Lisbon, from whence he came in hopes of recovery from a bad 
state of health to Bath, where after a tedious and painful illness 
which he sustained with patience and resignation becoming a 
Christian, he died llth January, 1768 A.D., in the 52 year of his 
life, without issue, and at his own desire, lies buried in this church. 
This monument is erected by his affectionate widow, Agnes, Lady 

<' Hard by the terraced hillside town, 

Where healing streamlets run, 
Still sparkling with their old renown, 

The " waters of the sun," 

The Lady Agnes raised the stone 

That marks his honoured grave, 
And there Sir Harry sleeps alone 

By Wiltshire Avon's wave. 

The home of early love was dear ; 

She sought its peaceful shade, 
And kept her state for many a year 

With none to make afraid. 


At last the evil days were come, 

That saw the red cross fall ; 
She hears the rebels rattling drum, 

Farewell to Frankland Hall." 

As thus stated, the widow returned to their former home 
at Hopkinton near Boston, and there resided until the 
breaking out of the War of Independence. She then 
finally left the country and came to England, residing with 
her husband's relations at Thirkleby, until 1782 A.D., 
when she married as her second husband John Drew, 
Esq., a banker of Chichester, and, in that city, in the 
following year, she died aged 57 years and there she is 

The following is the conclusion of the ballad : 

" I tell you, as my tale began, 

The Hall is standing still ; 
And you kind listener, maid or man, 

May see it if you will. 

The box is glistening huge and green. 

Like trees the lilacs grow, 
Three elms, high-arching, still are seen, 

And one lies stretched below. 

The hangings, rough with velvet flowers, 

Flap on the latticed wall ; 
And o'er the mossy ridge-pole towers 

The rock-hewn chimney tall. 

The doors on mighty hinges clash, 

With massive bolt and bar, 
The heavy English moulded sash, 

Scarce can the night- winds jar. 

Behold the chosen room he sought 

Alone, to fast and pray, 
Each year, as chill November brought 

The dismal earthquake day. 


There hung 1 the rapier blade he wore, 

Bent in its flattened sheath ; 
The coat the shrieking woman tore* 

Caught in her clenching teeth. 

The coat with tarnished silver lace 

She snapped at as she slid, 
And down upon her death-like face 

Crashed the huge coffin's lid. 

A graded terrace yet remains ; 

If on its turf you stand 
And look along the wooded plains, 

That stretch on either hand, 

The broken forest walls define 

A dim receding view, 
Where, on the far horizon's line, 

He cut his vista through. 

If further story you shall crave, 

Or ask for living proof, 
Go see old Julia, born a slave 

Beneath Sir Harry's roof. ' 

She told me half that I have told, 

And she remembers well 
The mansion as it looked of old, 

Before its glories fell. 

The box, when round the terrace square 

Its glossy wall was drawn ; 
The climbing vines, the snow-balls fair, 

The roses on the lawn. 

And Julia says, with truthful look 

Stamped on her wrinkled face, 
That in her own black hands she took 

The coat with silver lace ; 

* A woman buried with Sir C. H. Frankland in the falling ruins at 
Lisbon, caught the sleeve of his coat with her teeth, and in her agony 
bit a piece therefrom. 


And you may hold the story light, 

Or, if you like, believe ; 
But there it was, the woman's bite, 

A mouthful from the sleeve. 

Now go your ways ; I need not tell 

The moral of my rhyme ; 
But youths and maidens, ponder well 

This tale of olden time." 

The poem was published about 1861 A.D. In the 
edition published by Sampson, Low and Co., London, in 
1881 A.D., the author has added this note : 

"It is greatly to be regretted that the Frankland 
mansion no longer exists. It was accidentally burned on 
the 23rd of January, 1858 A.D., a year or two after the 
first sketch of this ballad was written. A visit to it was 
like stepping out of the century into the years before the 
Revolution. A new house, similar in plan and arrange- 
ments to the old one, has been built upon its site, and the 
terraces, the clump of box, and the lilacs, doubtless remain 
to bear witness to the truth of this story." 



" A little slab of marble also, graven 
With these two words, spelt anciently, ' Deare Childe,' 
These and no more." 

Rev. 8. J. Stone. 

shortest, and yet one of the most touchingly 
eloquent, monumental inscription in England's 
great national mausoleum Westminster Abbey 
is to be found in one of the cloisters. It is this 

"Jane Lister Deare Childe. 
October 7th, 1688." 

The words are cut in a plain marble slab, inserted in the 
wall, and devoid of any symbol or ornament whatever. 
There stands this simple monument to the memory of a 
child eloquent in its brevity and simplicity; and thrice 
eloquent when seen by the side of those elaborate tombs, 
with which the Abbey is filled, to the memory of England's 
greatest sons! 

" Storied urn and animated bust," 

telling of deeds of arms on land and sea, of eminence in 
the Senate, in literature, or in commerce; and epitaphs, 
which have taxed the learning of scholars and the genius 
of poets to pay a tribute to the worth of departed great 
ones, are in vivid contrast with these two words, after the 
almost unknown name of Jane Lister, " Deare Childe." 

As we stand and read, and re-read them, how many 
emotions are stirred within the breast ! Truly " One touch 


of nature makes the whole world kin." Dear child ! Dear 
to some parents' hearts two hundred years ago dear to 
brothers and sisters all now long passed away ! What 
doth their " deare " one here ? On every side 

" The ancient, venerable dead ; 

Sages who wrote, and warriors who bled/' 

and a little child in the midst of them ! Does not the 
mind instinctively turn to a far-off day in the far-off fields 
of the Holy Land, when the Divine Teacher, moved by 
the contentions of His disciples as to who should be 
the greatest, took a child and set him in the midst of 
them, and taught them, that lesson hard for all men to 
learn the lesson of humility ; and on another occasion 
reminded them that " of such (little children) is the 
kingdom of heaven." 

The Rev. S. J. Stone has made the words of this 
epitaph the text for one of his sweetest idylls. But he 
says he first saw them on a tablet in 1861 A.D., in the 
wall of a country church in Buckinghamshire, "and it 
was the remembrance of them that, in 1864 A.D., suggested 
the title of the poem ; but several years afterwards a 
reviewer pointed out the fact that a tablet similarly 
inscribed is to be seen in the cloisters of Westminster 
Abbey." It was these words, therefore, though first 
seen in another place, that inspired the poet's pen. Yet 
what he beautifully wrote of one careless wanderer's steps 
arrested by them, in the country churchyard, has no doubt 
been true of thousands of such when wandering through 
the sacred precincts of the great Abbey. 

" And yet he lingered here ; 
He who had wandered with me and scanned 
With heedless eyes that cared to rest on none, 
The carved annals of a score of tombs. 
He, who had laughed at this, and sneered at that, 
Nor gave elsewhere a reverent word for one 
Yet lingered here, and lingered on, until 
I moved away to test him ; still he stayed. 


As I turned, I saw 

The face was wholly changed, the open brow 
Thrid as with pain or thought, the careless eyes 
Filmed with a mist of tears, and the strong lips 
Set closer, as prepared against a sense 
Of quivering weakness. Facing round again 
Upon the little monument, he said 
' Tell me of him or her.' " 

It is little that can be told of "Jane Lister Deare 
Childe." But some account of the parents who, when 
they laid her body to rest among the dust of a nation's 
great ones, lovingly placed this unpretending slab, and 
inscribed these two words, " Deare Childe," to her memory 
may be of interest, and what little is known of the 
child shall be woven into the narrative.* 

The beautiful Susan Temple, Maid of Honour to Anne 
of Denmark, a former " Sea King's daughter from over 
the sea," Queen of James I., married for her first hus- 
band Sir Giffard Thornhurst. Their only daughter, Frances, 
married Richard Jennings, and became the mother of 
Sarah the well-known Duchess of Marlborough. For her 
second husband, Lady Thornhurst was united to Sir Martin 
Lister of Barwell in Lincolnshire an offshoot of the 
ancient family of that name in Craven. The sole issue of 
this marriage was a son, born in 1638 A.D. Martin Lister, 
the father of the " Deare childe." 

Martin Lister was educated at St. John's College Cam- 
bridge, and adopted the medical profession, and became 
famous both as a physician and a naturalist. He was one 
of the earliest members of the Royal Society, and a 
frequent and valued contributor to its proceedings ; the 
intimate friend also of Ray, Evelyn, Thoresby, and most 
of the literati and men of science of his day. He fre- 
quently paid visits to his relations in Craven, and on some 
of these visits made the acquaintance of a lady there, 
whom, in 1668 A.D., he married Anna, the elder of the two 

* The author is much indebted for his information to a paper by the 
late Mr. Davis, of York, in the Yorkshire Archaeological Society's 


daughters and co-heiressses of Mr. Thomas Parkinson, of 
Carlton Hall. 

For the two following years (1669-70 A.D)., Dr. Lister 
appears to have resided at his father-in-law's house at 
Carlton. The baptism of his first child is thus recorded in 
the register of that parish 

1670. Susanna, the daughter of Martin Lister and Anna his 
wife, was baptised on the 9th of June, in the year 1670. 

In the following year his father-in-law died, and by his 
will, dated April, 1671 A.D., after dividing his property to 
his wife and two daughters, he gave a legacy of twenty 
shillings to the nurge of " Dr. Lister's child, then at his 
house." He also directed, among other matters, that the 
following words should be cut upon his tomb " Felix iter 
a seculo ad coelum hie ero sanus." remarkable as being 
afterwards, (1691 A.D.), the djdng words of Richard 
Baxter. A slab still exists (covered by the tiles) in the 
chancel of Carleton Church, with the inscription, probably 
from the pen of Dr. Lister 


Si quseris animani, 
Eecessit in Coalum ; 

Si Corpus 
Thomas Parkinson 
hie in spe Eessurrectionis invenit 
Kequiem tertio die Maii. 

Anno Domini 1671. 
Felix iter a seculo ad coelum hie ero sanus. 

Carleton Hall now became, in right of his wife, the 
elder of the two co-heiresses, the property of Dr. Lister, 
who, however, never appears to have occupied it, and it 
was sold by his son to Lord Bingley. 

Dr. Lister took up his residence in York, and 
practised there as a physician. 

While resident in York (1671-1683 A.D.) he carried on 
an active correspondence with many men eminent in 
science and learning, and himself issued during the time 
several valuable scientific works. 


In 1683 A.D., or 1684 A.D., he removed, with his family 
to the metropolis ; and shortly after this date he is known 
to have been residing in the Old Palace Yard, Westminster. 
Either at this place or at York, immediately previous to 
his removal, was born the " deare childe." She was bap- 
tised in the adjoining church, St. Margaret's Westminster, 
on December 26th 1683 A.D. Here, in their home under 
the shadow of the great Abbey, she spent the five years 
of her brief life often, no doubt, with her elder brothers 
and sisters played and prattled in the sacred cloisters 
where now for nearly two hundred years she has rested. 

About this time viz., from 1683 A.D., to 1691 A.D., 
Dr. Lister was engaged upon the publication of his greatest 
work, " Historia sive Synopsis Methodica Conchyliorum.'' 
This work includes etchings, on copper-plate, of more than 
a thousand figures of shells from drawings by the author's 
two elder daughters, Susannah and Anna, and done with 
a fidelity and spirit which bear strong testimony to the 
extraordinary talent and industry of the girls, who could 
only at that time have been from 15 to 20 years of age. 
In quick succession several other works, on natural history 
and medicine issued, from his pen, and also, "A journey 
to Paris in 1698 A.D.," written, as he states, " chiefly to 
satisfy my own curiosity, and to delight myself with the 
memory of what I have seen." 

In 1695 A.D., Dr. Lister lost his wife, the mother of the 
" deare childe," and of his other children. She was interred 
in the Parish Church of Clapham, in Surrey, near to which, 
to a country house, he about this time removed. The 
bereaved husband there erected a monument to her memory, 
remarkable as applying to the wife a similar epithet to that 
already applied to the child. The inscription was this 

Hannah Lister Deare wife ; 

died 1695, 

And left six children in tears 
For a most indulgent mother. 

She was the daughter and heir of 
Thomas Parkinson of Carle ton-in-Craven, 


Three years afterwards, in 1698 A.D., he married as his 
second wife, Jane Cullen, of St. Mildred, Poultry. On the 
accession of Queen Anne, in 1702, A. D., to the throne, Dr. 
Lister, probably through the influence of his niece, the 
imperious Sarah, Duchess of Marlborough, was sworn in 
one of the four Court physicians. 

In public life and in his profession he appears to have 
been a man of the genus irritabile. His books and papers 
show him to have been almost always engaged in con- 
troversj 7 , and exposed to "the envenomed shafts" of 
many sharp critiques, notably some of a Dr. King. It can 
hardly, however, be supposed that his irritability of temper, 
and love of controversy, were carried into private and 
domestic life. The little glimpses which we now and then 
Obtain of his home all point to the contrary ; and there 
certainly was a kindliness of disposition about him, which 
won for him the abiding esteem, and friendship, of those 
who had the privilege of intimate personal acquaintance. 
The gentle Evelyn, and Ray the botanist, were his life-long 
friends. Thoresby speaks of him as "my father's friend, 
the learned Dr. Lister." And in 1708 A.D., the esteemed 
and aged Rector o.f Barwick-in-Elmet, George Plaxton, 
wrote to Thoresby, then in London, " I would have you 
visit my old friend Dr. Martin Lister ; tell him I am still 
alive, and have the same value for him that I had in 1672 
A.D. for so long have I known him." 

On February 2nd, 1711-12 A.D., Dr. Lister died at his 
house at Epsom, and by his will directed that his body 
should be interred by that of his first wife in Clapham 
Church. There, in the same grave with her, he was laid. 
A plain marble slab, placed side by side with that which he 
had placed to her memory, was erected to his own, and 
bore the following record : 

Near this place lies the body of 

Martin Lister, 

Doctor of Physic and Member of the Royal Society, 

And one of Queen Anne's Physicians, 

Who departed this life the Second 

day of February, 1711-12. 


Both these monuments have been, the writer understands, 
destroyed or removed. May it not be, therefore, that Dr. 
Martin Lister, the uncle of the Duchess of Maryborough, 
the naturalist, and philosopher, and Court physician, will 
live less vividly, in the world's memory, as the pos- 
sessor of these distinctions, than as the parent who 
wrote upon his child's tomb (which has already survived 
his own), in the Abbey of Westminster, that brief, simple, 
touching record, and epitaph " Jane Lister Deare 



_,*TJTUMN ! realization's tranquil hour ! 
' \ : Thou com'st with spoils of spring and summer 

And yet of nature's life in both, the crown, 
The season rich of fruit, and not of flower ! 
Orchard and coppice witness to thy power, 

Beneath their loads of red or russet-brown ; 

While fields of ripened grain, in weakness sown, 
Into thy lap their varied treasures pour. 
By reaping-hook or scythe no longer won, 

The last rich sheaf in harvest-home is borne. 

From forest monarch, as from berried thorn, 
The yellow leaves are whirled. The work is done ; 

And now creation sinks to winter's rest, 

In thankful trust on her Creator's breast, 



following brief leaves, or notes, commencing 
two hundred years ago, and extending over 
nearly seventy years, are from a manuscript 
book, in vellum cover, now in the possession of the writer, 
and may be of interest to some readers. 

The book originally belonged to a person named Parke, 
probably the Rev. Henry Parke, incumbent (1690 A.D. to 
1704 A.D.) of Wentworth in South Yorkshire, or his 
brother George Parke, and afterwards passed into the 
hands of Thomas Parkinson* of Denton, the brother-in- 
law of Parke, and then into those of his son, Stephen 
Parkinson* of Denton, and Cragg Hall in the forest, (b. 
1680 A.D., d. 1763 A.D.) 

The earlier pages are occupied by two long, and one 
short, Latin poems, " Ad Amicum, A. B." and " Elegia," 
&c., of no special interest, and subscribed " G-. Parke." 

* Son and grandson of Peter Parkinson of Denton, who was son of 
William Parkinson of Kildwick Grange, and elder brother of Thomas 
Parkinson of Carleton Hall in Craven. 

Peter Parkinson married in 1630 A.D. Ellen daughter of Parker 
and having acquired, either before or by his marriage, a property 
at Denton near Otley settled there. 

In 1670 A.D. he is found holding land, as tenant, under Lord Fairfax 
of that place. A lease granted to him and others of " the Warren " at 
Denton, bj the 3rd Lord Fairfax, in the above year, ia now in the 
writer's possession. 



The uppermost two or three lines, of many of the subse- 
quent pages, are taken up with brief memoranda, chiefly in 
Latin, in the same hand writing as the poems. There are 
also a few short accounts at the end of the book, and in 
the same hand. These appear to have been the work of 
Henry, or George, Parke, and to have been all, which the 
book contained, when it passed to its next owner, who, with 
his son its third owner, utilized the unoccupied space for 
ordinary business accounts, interspersing them, however, 
with notes and memoranda on other matters. 

A selection from the latter is given below in chrono- 
logical order. The authorship of the different extracts 
will be readily gathered. Some will be found of limited 
and local interest in Wharfedale and at Fewston; a few of 
a little genealogical value ; and several appealing to the 
attention of a wider circle of readers, as showing the 
value of agricultural produce, in the neighbourhood, in the 
early part of the last century. 

" May 15th, An. D. 1683. Hac nocte mors Mtri : Hudson (1) est 
mihi nunciata. 

Cum senibus juvenes tumulo conduntur in uno, 

Et cum matre sua filia chara jacet. 
Portia quid nobis morituris corpora prosunt ! 

Quid mortis lucta forma superba valet. 
Quern mundi vis inagna peiit nee pellere posset 

Hunc juvenem mortis pallida tsela premunt. 
Quid veneri prodest Cynara tenuisse creatum ; 

Horrida mors a pro ssevior inde rapifc. 
Heu cadit in silva fabris aptissima quercus, 

Fronde carens tenera cum vitiosa manet. 

Fructi feris verni flores carpuntur inhortis 
Cum neglecta nimis aetera turba cadat." 

"An. 83 (1683) Nov. 9mo. obiit, S. Wharfe. 

Nunc hunc, nunc illam rapit inclementia mortis 
Conjux jam sequitur, fcemina chara prseit." 

(1) " 1678 A.D. Mr. William Hudson of Ffewston and Mistress Jane 
Banister, widdow, were lawfully married by virtue of a license from 
the Court of York." Hampsthwaite Parish Register. 


" An. D. 83 (1683) Feb. 15to. nunciata est inihi mors Franciscae 
Dommse Fairfax." (1) 

"An. D. 83 (16S3) Feb. 25to. Sepultus fuit t>om : Gualterus 
Hawksworth, (2) cujus vitse fila sororibus fatalibus sunt contorta." 

" October 28th 83. fuit sepulta Lydia Hollins. 
Natas heu video lugentes funera matru. 

Sed matre natse funera triste sequi, 
Naturae cursum fera mors mutare videtur, 

Ordine nee certo currere fata sinit." 

"An. Dom. 1683 Junij. die 25to. 

Ad rueflKcinales aquas (3) prope Knaresbrough profectus sum." 

"Junij. 29mo. St. Petri die. Copgraviam ubi fons St. Mungonis 
(4) nomine honoratur adij hie bis terve meipsem iinersi. Deinde 
Julij Imo redij. 

" Stephen Parkinson his book, and my age was 24 years when 
my father died., that was in the year 1703." 

(1) Wife of Henry fourth Lord Fairfax, and daughter and heiress 
of Sir Robert Barwick of Toulston. Buried at Denton. Tombstone 

(2) The following inscription is on a tomb under the Holy Table 
in Guiseley Church : 

" Here lyeth interr'd the body 
Of Sr. Walter Hawksworth of 
Hawksworth, Bart., who was 
born the 22nd day of Novr. 
1660. And he departed this 
life of a consumption the 

day of February 1693. 

He married Ann the seventh 
daughter of Sir Robert Mark- 
ham of Sedgebrook in the 
County of Lincoln Bart. He 
had issue by her at one birth 
a daughter and a son." 

Slater's History of Guiseley. 

(3) The Spas at Harrogate, or possibly those in Forest Lane 
between Harrogate and Knaresborough. 

(4) St. Mungo's Well, at Copgrove near Knaresborough, is a 
spring of very cold water formerly of great repute for its healing 
virtues, but now neglected and almost forgotten. 


"Memorandum. Mr. Humferes* preached my father's funeral 
sermon. He did take for his text in the Book of Isaiah at the 
40th chapter and the 6th verse. " The voice said, Cry. And I said, 
What shall I cry ? All flesh is grass, and all the goodliness 
thereof is as the flower of the field." 

Memorandum. "Mr. Omferes received his wages on the 28th 
of September in the year 1701 A.D., the sum is 14 shillings and 
7d. for the whole yeare." 

The same memorandum is repeated yearly until, 
"On the 18th day of December in the year 1705 A.D. againe 
I paid to Mr. Humferes all his wages and he did leave us on the 4th 
day of June in the year 1708 A.D." . 

" For a memorandum. May the 28th day 1709 A.D., I Stephen 
Parkinson of Dentcn bought two closes of Marniaduke Foster 
of Denton. By condition of bargain for sessments and lays, I am pay 
thus : for land-sess one shilling and 2 pence in the quarter, in the 
whole year 4 shillings and 8 pence ; for the Tithes I am to 
pay 7 shillings in the yeare ; for lays I pay 3 shillings and 3 
farthings at a lay. The two closes are called 7 acres of land, cost 
me the summe of 7 score pounds." 

" A memorandum. February the first day, 1714 A.D. being the 
yeare 1715 A.D. The Lady Day following there was the greatest 
wind that ever was in man's time living. Then it tooke almost all 

the thake of the tanhouse and of the house and the over barne. 

It did blow downe many trees and many barnes, and some 
dwelling houses. This is set down by me Stephen Parkinson." 

"Memorandum. In the yeare 1714 A.D. my sister Ann was 
married to Christopher Hird, (1) the son of Thomas Hird of 

* Mr. Humferes was, in all probability, a curate schoolmaster at 
Denton, residing in the house of the writer, and teaching the 
children of the household and of the neighbours. The items of 
"wages" would be the tutorial fees. In 1708 A.D. the Rev. Henry 
Humphrey became vicar of Otley the parish in which Denton is 
situated and continued vicar until his death in 1744 A.D. 

(1) The family of Hird of Rawdon, that of Clapham of Denton 
and Stephen Parkinson, the writer of the memorandum, were all 
previously connected by marriages with the family of Day of Day 
Ash. John Hird uncle, of the above Christopher, was married to 
Jane daughter of Francis Day. He died 1751 A.D. she 1750 A.D. 
Stephen Parkinson the writer had married Hannah Day, sister of Jane, in 
1706 A.D. Richard Hird of this family founded the Low Moor Ironworks 


Eawdon, and I paid to the said Christopher Hird, in part, my 
sister's portion the summe of .30 Os. 0*d. This done on the 10th of 

"April the 10th 1716 A.D., I accounted with my brother (1) Day 
for hides. I had from him, and for the sessments he had paid 
for (2) Hannah's land and all other things. The sum of 7 shillings 
balance was paid. Soe at this time we are straight." 

" Denton May the 18th 1716 A.D. 

Memorial. My Lord ffairfax sold his estate, at (3) Denton and 
Askwith, to one James Ibbotson of Leeds ; and a place near York 
called Bilborough to sixe men, Captain ffairfax, Barnard Banks, 
Nathaniel Hird, one Smithe, one Markes, and one Eoodman of 
York. TMiey took possession on the day and yeare above written. 

This day above written James Ibbotson tooke possession and all 
set there hands to a paper and paid sixpence. All the tenants paid 
sixpence, as before mentioned, to Mr. James Ibbotson of Leeds." 

"Memorandum. In the year 1716 A.D. I, Stephen Parkinson 
bought of Edward Eobinson of Swinsty, the Cragg House being 
the 12th day of November, and on the 17th we did article for it. 

about 1790 A.D. He left two daughters, one of whom married the Eev. 
Lamplough Wickham from whom the Wickhams of Bradford are 
descended. The other (Christiana) married in 1801 A D. Sir Charles 
Des Vceux of Indeville Queens County Ireland. 

(1) John Day of Day Ash, another brother was Francis Day, 
rector of Topliffe, 1713 A.D. to 1763 A.D. 

(2) Hannah, nee Day, wife of the diarist. 

(3) The sixth Lord Fairfax. Markham in his life of the 3rd Lord 
Fairfax attributes the sale of Denton entirely to Lady Fairfax widow 
of the fifth Lord. But her son, the 6th Lord b. 1690 A.D. would 
then be 25 years of age. He emigrated to America, and died there in 
1782 A.D. The following is the reference by Markham to this 
transaction. " The fifth Lord was elected M.P. for Yorkshire in 1688 
A.D. to succeed his father, and sat till 1707 A.D. (Died 1710 A.D.) 
His wife Catherine was daughter and heiress of Thomas Lord Cul- 
pepper, on whose death she succeeded to Leeds Castle in Kent, to the 
proprietary right of the northern neck of Virginia, and to an estate 
of 300,000 acres in the Shenandoah valley. Her mother was Margaret 
de Hesse. Lady Fairfax sold Denton, and all the Yorkshire property, 
to pay off the debts on her estates in Kent. She did this so recklessly 
that the price given for Denton was covered by the value of the timber. 
It was bought by a Leeds merchant of the name of Ibbotson, whose 
successors built a great modern house, and there is not now a vestige of 
the old Fairfax House." p 409. 


The purchase is 600 pounds 200 to be paid at May Day, and 
400 at Martinmas next (1). 

At the bargain meeting I spent 1 shilling, at the articling one 
shilling and sixpence, and I paid Mr. Eobinson five shillings, 
and to Harper (2) for taking enterance of all the land 15 shillings." 

"October day 1718 A.D. a memorial!. 

The first hides that were tanned at Cragg (3) I sould (five) 
to Edward Hudson of Fuiston att the rate of 16 shillings and 
6 pence a hide. The sum is 4 pounds 2 shillings and six pence." 

"ffor a memorandum 1718 A.D. I laid the garret chamber ; the 
boardes I bought of Aline Smith of Denton being 39 inch boardes, 
and 18 half inch boardes, which cost me one pound two shillings 
and six pence, this being att Cragg in the Forest in 1718 A.D." 

The following extracts will probably be of interest to 

" Memorandum. The first year at Cragg (1717 A.D.) I solde 
sheepe and woole at the sume of one pound five shilllings (each). 
The second year, sold sheepe and woole at the summe of one 
pound 5 shillings (each). The third yeare, sold sheep and woole at 
the sum of 2 pounds (each)." 

"ffeb. 8th day 1723 A.D. Sold to Abraham Huddleston of 
Burley a bay mare coming four year olde, and he came for her 
to my house at Cragg on the 13th day of ffeb. and had her 
'livered to him, he is to pay for her at Easter after; the price 
being five pounds five shillings ; but I am to give him one shilling 
and sixpence again when he pays for her. (later). " All paid for." 

(1) This purchase included the house variously designated 
Over and Upper Cragg House, and Cragg Hall, with about 30 acres 
of land adjoining, and was, therefore, only the nucleus around which 
the larger estate afterwards gathered. The house is of the time of 
Elizabeth, and had belonged in succession to the Franklands, the Rev. 
Henry Fairfax (whom see), and others. 

(2) William Harper was the tenant under Edward Eobinson, and 
had to give way to the new owner. 

(3) The Diarist seems to have joined the business of a tanner to 
his occupation as a yeoman while at Denton, and to have commenced, 
at Cragg Hall, what afterwards in the latter part of the last century 
and early part of this, became a very extensive but unfortunate 
business. The large tan-yard begun by him, some distance below the 
house in the valley, was removed in 1850 A.D. 


"In the yeare 1719 A.D. I had barley (1) in the Low Trough (2) 
being all the close barley. I had 7 quarters 12 strokes. The 7 
quarters sold to William Gott att one pound 1 shilling and 6 pence 
a quarter." 

" In the yeare 1720 A.D. I had the Green Field (3) all barley, 
and sould it to William Gott for one pound one shilling and 6 
pence a quarter. I had 6 pence of earnest money. There were 
about 6 quarters and one stroke, which comes to 5 pounds 18 
shillings and three pence, (but I had 6d. of earnest)." 

"In the year 1721 A.D. I had barley, one acre, in the Delf Close; 
wee had three quarters of it." 

"In the yeare 1723 A.D. all the Low Trough was barley; we 
had nine quarters 3 strokes of itt the old measure." 

" In the year 1724 A.D. all Great Delf Close (4) barley, and sould 
it on the ii day of December to Robert Harrison of Addingham for 
one pound one shilling and 6 pence a quarter. There were about 
six quarters on itt." 

" Memorandum. In the year 1723 A.D. it being a very dry 
summer wee had the Great Delf Close wheat, beinge three dayes 
worke (3 cutting). Wee had on itt 21 loads of wheat. I sold as 
much wheat as I took term pounds 8 shillings and 4 pence for." 

"August 4th 1724 A.D. I bought of Francis Jeffery of the 
Browne Bank two dayes mowing of grasse (i.e. as much as would 
take one man for two days to cut), and I am. to give one pound 
17 shillings and sixpence for it. But hee had paid for mowing itt, 
and he had made half of it into hay, soe wee did get the rest of it 
up into hay the day I bought it as above mentioned. And wee got 
the last part of this hay on the 15th day of August 1724 A.D." 

" Feb. 20 day 1727-8 A.D. Sold at Bradford one steire (steer, ox) 
that was four years old, for 10 pounds. I did breed him at Cragg. 
He would have been 5 years old next June. He was sold to 

(1) It should be borne in mind that the land, and climate, of 
the district are unsuitable to the profitable growth of barley or any 
other grain except perhaps oats. Though much land was under 
arable cultivation up to thirty years ago, now the whole or very 
nearly so, is grass. 

(2) Area : 2a. 2r. 14p. 

(3) Area : 2a. Ir. 19p. 

(4) Area: 2a. 2r. 27p. 


" December 22 day 1727. I paid John Harrison 10 shillings for 
five yeares now last past of that tythe belonging to Mr. Barker 
for my lands at Denton, which is two shillings in the yeare due to 
Mr. Barker. I paide it in Otley, in Cordelay's, John Cordelay 
beinge by." 

"Memorandum for the year 1726. We did build the Oven 
House. (1) What I paid for building itt : first, I pay'd on the 
16th day of May to Jane Irish for Masons' table 10 shillings." 
(No further items follow). 

" February 7th day 1725-6 Francis (2) did go to learn with Mr. 
Atkinson att Hampstwait. I am to pay one shilling and 6d. a 
week for his table att Thomas Randall's and 5 shillings to Mr. 

A like entry occurs frequently until 1729, when there 
is the following : 

" May first day 1729, I paid widow Eandall for Francis's table 
19 shillings and six pence beinge in full of all accounts. And this 
day above written I paid Mr. Atkinson for his learning tenn shil- 
lings being in full of all accounts, and so farewell. I paid for 
Francis learning and table the sum of 12 pounds 7 shillings and 
G pence." 

" Memorandum. In the yeare 1730 I sett 20 -apple trees, and 
three cherry trees ; and in 1731 I sett 13 apple trees ; and Feb- 
ruary 1 6th day I cut up a thorn hedge in the middle of the orchard. 
(3) This done at Cragg in the Forest by me Stephen Parkinson." 

" For a memorandum. April 25th day. Att night happened a 
fire at Denton Hall (4) which burnt all down. This was in the 
yeare 1734. One Samuel Ibbotson bought it, and lived in itt 
at this time. It was the finest hall that was within the dale. This 
is sett down by Stephen Parkinson at Cragg Hall in the Forrest. 

" June 28th day 1740. My son Thomas was married with Mary 
Pullyen (5) of Timble." 

(1) The out building now standing to the east of the northern 
wing of Cragg Hall. 

(2) His third son who died October 6th 1732 A.D. 

(3) The orchard thus planted, or rather re-planted, remained until 
1842 A.D. when the trees, having become old and barren, were uprooted. 

(4) This was the Hall in which the Fairfaxes had so long resided, and 
which came to them through marriage with the heiress of the Thwaites. 

(5) This ancient Forest family was seated at Timble and Fewston 
from very early times. In the Poll Tax Boll A.D. 1378, mention is 
made of Isabel Polayn residing here with two servants. This is earlier 
than the family is found at either Scotton or Killinghall. The connec- 


" Memorandum. The 20th day of ffebruary in the year one 
thousand seven hundred and forty one my sonne Thomas had a 
girl born by his wife at Timble. "When she was christened they 
called her (1) Mary." 

" Memorandum. The 3rd day of January 1743 I went with 
Stephen, my sonne, to Robert Wilks about making up a match 

tion of the three branches has not been discovered, the prevailing 

Christian names, however, were the same, and the same coat of arms 

was used by all, namely, " Azure, on a bend between six lozenges or, 

each charged with an escallop sable, five escallops of the first." 

Crest. A pelican feeding its young from its breast. 

(Fewston and Killinghall branches) : 

The Scotton branch however used for their crest, " a colt's head 
erased sable, bridled or." 

The seat of the Fewston branch was New Hall. George Pulleyne of 
Newhall near Fewston made his will on June 5th 1557 A.D. and gave to 
" my brother Sir John Pulleyne vycar of Fuston my lease of Newhall 
and of other lands which I have of the grant of Mayster William 
Pulleyne." "Sir John Pulleyne" was vicar of Fewston from 1545 
A.D. to 1583 A.D. and Henry Pulleyne, clerk, who succeeded him, from 
1583 A.D. to 1591 A.D. Before the end of the 16th century Newhall 
had been acquired by the Fairfax family. In 1599 A.D. Sir Thomas 
Fairfax of Denton disposed of it, by his will of that date, to Edward 
Fairfax, the poet, who shortly after made it his residence. 

The chief branch of the Pulleynes still resided in the township of 
Timble, and in the early part of the 18th century was represented by 
Anthony Pulleyne Esq., of that place. He died in 1728 A.D. leaving three 
daughters co-heiresses. Of these, Elizabeth, the eldest, born 1710 A.D. 
married William Simpson Esq. of Felliscliffe in 1735 A.D. and died 1741 
A.D. Mary, the second married Thomas Parkinson of Cragg Hall, and 
was the great grandmother of the present writer. Elizabeth, the 
youngest, married 1st Edward Yates of Padside, and 2ndly Stephen 
Parkinson of Hardisty Hill, (his second wife) brother of her sister's 
husband. The crest of the Pulleyne family of this part of' the Forest 
and of Killinghall, (a pelican feeding its young with blood from its own 
breast) remained in stained glass, in one of the windows of New Hall 
until removed preparatory to the house being taken down, in 1867 A.D. 
when the reservoir was formed which now washes over its site. The 
glass is now (1882 A.D.) in the possession of Mr. Bramley B. Kent of 
Menwith Hill. 

(1) This " girl" Mary married, on 10th January 1763 A.D., John 
Blesard Esq. of Guiseley, whose daughter and only surviving child 
Elizabeth, became the wife of her cousin the late Robert Blesard Esq. 
of Blenheim Terrace, Leeds. She and their only surviving child, 
Phoebe late wife of Thomas Tennant Esq., were among the most 
munificent benefactors to the churches and charities of Leeds in this 


with his daughter Anna, beinge his youngest daughter. He has 
three daughters, the eldest Elizabeth ; the second Mary ; and the 
youngest Anna. The 10th day of January Stephen went to York 
for license to marry Anna, but got none, because she was under 
age. But he got license the next day at Harewood and was mar- 
ried the 19th day of January, 1743-4 A.D. 

"Memorandum. May 9th day 1744 A.D. my sister Elizabeth 
Day died att Menwith Hill, and was buried at Hampsthwait the 
12th day of May." 

" Memorandum. This 14th day of July 1744 A.D was the 
House (1) reared at Hardisty Hill. There was at the rearing, 
Thomas Tiplady, John Parker, Samuel Stubbs, Christopher Wat- 
son, Joshua Yeadon, Benjamin Swain, Joseph Watson. The 
masons were Thomas Snell, Anthony Snell, George Hudson, 
Simeon Moorhouse. The wrights were James Graham, Francis 
Graham, William Croft." 

" Memorandum. My brother John Day died at Menwith Hill on 
the 29th day of July 1745 A.D. at 6 o'clock in the evening, and he 
was buried at Hampsthwaite on Lammas Day being the first of 
August, 1745 A.D." 

" Memorandum. This 23rd day of December 1745 A.D. Edward 
Yates of Padside married one Betty (2) (Elizabeth) Pullyen of 

(1) This house was erected by the diarist for his recently married 
(see preceding memorandum) son, Stephen, in the family of whose 
descendants it remained until 1848 A.D. when it was sold by the 
Trustees of Stephen Parkinson, Esq. of Newington Place near York, to 
the late Mr. Carr of Bolton Bridge who resided in it until his death 
some twenty years ago. It is now the residence of Mr. John Bramley 
whose wife is the grandaughter of Mr. Carr. In the latter part of the 
former half of this centuary (19th) there was erected on the estate, to 
meet the demand for houses caused by the factory of Messrs. 
Coldbeck Ellis & Co. at West House, sixteen cottages and other 
buildings. Twelve of these, which stood on the south side of the 
Skipton and Knaresbrough road, at its junction with the Hardisty Hill 
road, were purchased by the Leeds Corporation, and two years ago, 
were removed and the material utilized for the boundary walls of 
the reservoirs. 

(2) The youngest co-heiress of Anthony Pnllyene Esq. and sister of 
Mary, wife of Thomas Parkinson second son of the diarist. She 
afterwards married, for her second husband, Stephen Parkinson 
of Hardisty Hill, the diarist's 4th son. 


Timble. It was a very windy day but no rain : so I sett this 
down for a memorandum." 

"Memorandum. April 19 day 1737 A.D. my partener Thomas 
Stubbs buried at Pannell Church. Mr. Simison preached a 
sermon. The text was 19th chapter and 26th verse of Job : " And 
though after my skinne wormes destroy this body, yet in my flesh 
shall I see God." 

With this memorandum this heap of stray leaves must 
be crowned. Others there are in the book but of in- 
sufficient interest to be brought forth for addition to the 
pile. The writer of them died, in 1763 A.D., at the 
patriarchal age of 81 years, and his wife in 1766 A.D. at 
the still greater age of 86 years. Their tombstone is yet 
to be seen, at the east end of the chancel, in the 
churchyard at Fewston. Besides the sons already men- 
tioned they left two daughters, one of whom, Jane, died 
unmarried, and the other, Hannah, married 1st the Rev. 
James Rayer, curate of Guiseley, and 2nd, in 1759 A.D. 
James Hulbert Esq., a London physician, who ultimately 
settled with his wife at the Old Vicarage at Bingley, and 
from whom is descended the writer's aged relative and 
friend Miss Ann Hulbert the last of her race. 



WINSTY Hall, the largest, and by far the most 
important and interesting, of the several 16th 
century " Halls " in the forest and its neighbour- 
hood, stands in ihe Township of Little Timble, an outlying 
part of the manor and parish of Otley, and adjoining, on 
the south, the townships of Fewston and Norwood. In 
the latest survey (1767 A.D.) of the forest of Knares- 
borough, before its enclosure in 1770 A.D., the township 
of Little Timble is included, as within the forest. In other 
surveys, however, it does not seem to have been included. 
At the time of the Doomsday survey, it was a " Bere- 
wick" of the Archbishop of York's manor of Otley, to 
which it has continued to belong to the present time. In 
the 31st Edward I. (1302 A.D.,) it was returned as 
representing the twelfth portion of a Knight's fee. 

The history of the Hall, its legends, its peculiarities, its 
owners (the Wood, Robinson, and Bramley families) have 
all been so fully investigated and so well described by Mr. 
William Grainge,* that to speak of them again, in this 
" leaf," would be merely to repeat what he has already so 
ably and pleasantly written. The hall and its surroundings 
are, therefore, referred to here, only, for the purpose of 
identifying them as the place, whence originated the sur- 
name of Wood. 

* "An Historical and descriptive Account of Swinsty Hall, by William 
Grainge 1857 A.D." Also "Swinsty Hall and its Legends" in the 
Harrogate Herald, May 18th, 1881 A.D. 


In the 13th and 14th centuries surnames were gradually 
coming into use ; and such names were frequently taken, 
or rather perhaps given, from the surroundings of the place 
at which the persons, indicated by the name, resided. 
Such was the case with the surname of " Wood," and 
other instances will be found referred to in these " leaves." 

Early in the reign of King John, the portion of the 
Forest now known as Bluberhouses was alienated to 
Eolert-le-Forester. In the Register of Archbishop Grey of 
York (1216 A.D. to 1255 A.D.) there is frequent mention, 
in connection with the Manor of Otley, of the name 
Forestarius. A grant of land, in 1238 A.D., from Robert 
de Lelay to the Archbishop is witnessed by, among others, 
" Ysaak de Tymbel " and " Ada (or Adam) Forestario de 

Perhaps it would be too much to say that this, probably 
an official name, might be that of the same family as we 
shortly after meet with denominated " de Sale " i.e. "of the 
Forest or Wood ; " but there is some possibility that such 
was the case. 

We come now, however, to more certain- ground. 

In the Register (1) of Archbishop Corbridge (1300-1304 
A.D.) we learn that, in 1302 A.D., there was residing, 
then, and for two generations earlier, on his Grace's Manor 
at Tymbel, a family then known by the name of " de la 
Sale ; " i.e. " of the forest " or " of the wood." (Saltus, a 
forest, or wooded valley.) The wardship and power to 
give in marriage, of " John (who must then have been a 
minor,) the son of Richard, the son of Robert de la Sale de 
Tymbel," was granted, in the above year, by the Arch- 
bishop to " William le Sarjaunt de Bloberhous." 

A little later, viz. in 1371 A.D., the " de la Sale" had 
been contracted, and partly anglicized, into " del Wode." 
In that year, Walter, the son of " John del Wode," did 
homage to the Archbishop for lands that he held of the 
Manor of Otley at Timble (2). 

(1) Surtees Society's publications vol. 49. 

(2) Eegister of Archbishop Greenfield, Ibid. 


In the Subsidy Roll (1) of 1379 A.D., printed elsewhere 
In these " leaves," the same person is described as 
" Walterus del Wode and ux ejus capenter vj.d." 

The " de " or " del " in this, as in so many other 
instances, was soon omitted, and thus the name became 
simply that of " Wode " or " Wood." 

From the Herald's visitations of Yorkshire, edited and 

published by Foster, we learn that, " daughter of 

Wood of Swinsty " married John Pulleine of 

Scotton (2). There is no date given, but this marriage 
was a very early one. 

Again, Walter Wood of Little Tymble married Agnes 
daughter of William Clapham of Beamsley (3). 

In 1504 A.D. Walter Wood Esquire was a witness, on 
behalf of Sir Robert Plumpton, in a suit at law regarding 
the forest. (See Ante p. 31.) 

Seven generations later than the previous marriage with 
the Pulleine family, Ralph (William ?) Wood of Swinsty 
Hall married (about 1523 A.D.) Ann Pulleine of Scotton (4). 

A Richard Wood, in his will dated May 12th 1523 A.D., 
is described as " Richard Wode of Tymyll, Gentleman," 
and he directs that his body be buried in the churchyard of 
St. Michael's Church at Fewstou, gives his best beast to 
Otley Church as a mortuary, and mentions " Agnes, his 
wife," William' his son, and his younger children. John 
Jeffray and Christopher Lindley are appointed feoffees of 
all his lands in the Forest of Knaresborough ; and also 

(1) As the short list in this Boll of the persons taxed in Little 
Timble, is accidentally omitted in the Boll as printed at the beginning 
of this book, it may be given here ; 


" Walterus del Wode and his wife capenter (?) vj.d. 
Bichard Paytson and his wife iiij.d. 

Willemns Milner and his wife iiij.d. 

Bobertns Wrightson and his wife iiij.d. 

Agnes Paytson iiij.d. 

Agnes filia Willelmi Milner iiij.d. 

Summa ij.s. ij.d." 

(2) Pulleine of Scotton Pedigree. 

(3) The Clapham of Beamsley Pedigree. 

(4) Pulleine Pedigree. 


refers to " the agreement between me and Mr. Ralph Pul- 
lande concerning the marriage between my son and his 
daughter." Among the executors named are the two feoffees 
and " Giles Wod my brother." The witnesses to the will 
are John Graver, John Jeffray, Brian Wod, John Hearfield, 
and Thomas Pullan. The Giles Wood mentioned in this 
will as the brother of the Testator, was Giles Wood of 
Pickering. He is so given in Foster's Yorkshire Pedigrees.* 

An inquisition post mortem on the goods of Richard Wood 
of Pickering, son of Giles Wood of that place, was held in 
1567-8 A.D., wherein mention is made of his lands at 
Pickering, Copmanthorpe and several other places, and also 
of " a messuage called the Bakehouse, three oxgangs and 
divers other lands in the Forest of Knaresborough" 

Giles (Egid) Wod was admitted a member of the Corpus 
Christi Guild at York in 1495 A.D., and " Richard Wood" 
(probably the son) in 1543 A.D. On the former, the Editor 
of the Surtees Society's list of members, adds a note 
" Probably Giles Wood of Pickering, yeoman, brother of 
Richard Wood of Timble in the parish of Fewston. His 
son Richard Wood of Pickering, gentleman, died in 1568 
A.D., leaving, with other issue, a younger son, Anthony, 
who settled at Copmanthorpe, and was grandfather of John 
Wood, Lord Mayor of York in 1682 A.D., from whom the 
Woods of Hollin Hall near Ripon are descended." 

In 1575 A.D. the owner of Swinsty Hall was Ralph 
Wood ; and in the marriage settlement, (given in full by 
Mr. Grainge), made in that year, of his son Francis Wood 
with Ellen, or Helene, daughter of Henry Sothill of 
North Grange, there is an undertaking to erect, what now 
constitutes the principal, and more modern, portion of 
the Hall. It seems, however, never to have been 
quite finished, and remains so still. Francis Wood, 
for whom the more modern part was thus built, was 
the last of his family to reside at it. In 1590 A.D. 
it passed from him, in consideration of a mortgage 
upon it for 2,000, to Henry Robinson of the Old 

* Pedigree of Wood of Hollin Hall. 


Laund in Lancashire. Francis Wood afterwards resided at 
the Grange at Arthington, and some of the family settled 
at Stainburn, in the parish of Kirkby Overblow. At a 
subsequent date, it would seem that he, or his widow, 
returned to the neighbourhood of the old home. In 10th 
Charles I. (1635 A.D.) Helene Wood, widow, surrendered 
in the Forest Court at Knaresborough a messuage house, 
building, and lands in the hamlet and " ville " of Timble, to 
the use of " William Ratcliffe de Skales" his heirs and assigns. 
In the same year the will of Helene Wood, widow, was proved 
at Knaresbro' by William Ratcliffe of Skales and Ann his 
wife. There is also, among the records of the Forest Court, 
the will and an inventory of the goods of William Ratcliffe 
and Ann his wife, " daughter of the late Helene Wood, widow." 

The name yet survives at Tiinble and the vicinity. 

In 1639 A..D. the woods at, and around, Swinsty were 
still sufficiently large and important to be separately men- 
tioned, along with other property. An inquisition post 
mortem, held in that year, as to the goods of Henry Robin- 
son, then lately deceased, of Swinsty Hall, there is recited 
" a mansion house with pertinents," five other messuages 
and various parcels of meadow and pasture land, and then " a 
large pasture commonly known as Swinsty Wood, and common 
of pasture for sheep and cattle on the forest of Knaresbro." 

Frcm this account, it appears, then, pretty certain, that 
this family name, as borne by, at least some of the families 
designated by it in Yorkshire, had its origin in the forest 
glades, and well timbered forest valley, in the neighbourhood 
of Swinsty. And this interesting fact augments the regret 
of foresters, antiquarians, and others interested in historical 
and genealogical studies, that it should have been found 
necessary for the extensive woods of fine timber, possibly 
part ef the forest primeval, stretching down from the Hall 
to the river on the east and south-east, to be, within the 
last few years, entirely swept away, in the construction of 
the large reservoir of the Leeds Corporation. But such has 
been the case ; and now the cradle, and early home, of 
the " Woods " is doubly Woodless. 



: O gentle censor of our age ! 

Prime master of our ampler tongue ! 
Whose word of wit, and generous page, 
Were never wrath except with wrong, 

Fielding without the manner's dross, 

Scott with a spirit's larger room, 
What Prelate deems thy grave his loss ? 

What Halifax erects thy tomb? 

But, may be, he, who so could draw 
The hidden great, the humble wise, 

Yielding with them to God's good law, 
Makes the Pantheon where he lies." 

Lord, Houghton in Cornhill Magazine, 

the southern banks of the Washburn, about 
half a mile above Fewston, there stood, until 
lately, a substantial farm-house bearing the name 
of " Thackeray " or " Thackray." Four years ago it was 
entirely removed to make way for the upper reservoir of 
the Leeds Corporation, the waters of which now completely 
cover the site. The situation was at the western end of a 
large flat holm, which occupied the bottom of the valley, 
and not more than one hundred yards from the river. To 
the west of the house, and at about the same distance, 
ran a large brook, descending to the Washburn from the 
high moorlands, and named " Thackeray Beck." 


The house, lately removed, was comparatively a modern 
one, but, there can be no doubt, it occupied the place of 
one, or more, of antient date. 

In the Subsidy Rolls of the second year of Richard II., 
(1378-9 A.D.) already given among these "Leaves," 
under "Wapentake of Claro," and "Villa de Tymble," 
occurs probably the first-known mention of the name, 
" William de Thackwra," and in " Villa de Clynt," there 
are found the names " Willelmus de Thackray et uxor 
ejus," and " Johannes de Thakray." 

In 1666 A.D., again mention is made of the place, as 
" Thackera Holme," in connection with a surrender, in the 
Forest Court at Knaresborough, of lands at Low Cragg. 

The word is thus distinctly a "place " name, and, there- 
fore, given by the place, as a surname, to the family, and 
not imparted to the place by the family. It may however 
have originated as a place name in the trade name of the 
person resident at it. Possibly the derivation of the word 
is from "thec" or " thack" meaning thatch; which would 
be " theccer " or " thacker " when applied to a man using 
the thatch ; and " ey" an isle, or island. In which case 
the meaning would be " the isle of the thatcher." A 
similar etymology is found in the name Bardsey " Bards- 
" ey," or the Bards' Island. 

The more probable derivation, however, is from " thec " 
or " thecker" and " ea," a water or mere, and thus the 
meaning of the word, " the thatch, or thatcher' s, water or 
mere" Thackeray Holme might well, at no very distant 
time, have suited the requirements of either explanation. 
As a mere, or shallow lake, its banks, or the whole of 
it, would produce in abundance the reeds, rushes, &c., 
frequently used for the purpose of thatching. 

From the place, the family residing near it would receive 
its name as a surname, with as usual the prefix " de," 
"de Thackeray"; the " de " however being soon, as in 
innumerable such cases, dropped. 

As a family name few have been subject to a greater 
variety in spelling. The following modes are from the 


registers of two parishes (Hampsthwaite and Kirkby- 
Malzeard) alone. Tackerey ; Theccoray ; Theccorey ; 
Theccory ; Theccerey ; Thecceray ; Thackeray ; Thack- 
rey ; Thackray ; Thackurey ; Thackwray ; Thaqueray ; 
Thackura ; Thaccura ; Thackrey ; Thackaray, &c. Two 
or three branches of the family have come down to the 
present time, and are still found, in the parish of Fewston. 
In the adjoining one of Hampsthwaite it has been, until 
recently, numerous, and from thence it is that the members 
of it known to fame have gone forth. 

Walter Thackeray was resident at Hampsthwaite, at the 
beginning of the 1 7th century. His wife Margaret was 
interred there in 1609 A.D. One of his numerous grand- 
children was Thomas Thackeray, born in 1628 A.D., 
and married, Mary (probably Brown) whom he left a 
widow With a large family in 1670 A.D. The second 
surviving son was Timothy Thackeray, and the third Elias 
Thackeray, born 1665 A.D. Elias must have developed, 
in youth, a more than usual aptitude for learning, since, 
and probably as an encouragement to him therein Eliza- 
beth Day, widow of John Day of Hartwith, who, by will 
dated June 2oth 1681 A.D., left several legacies for educa- 
tional purposes, among the rest, left one of twenty shillings 
to " Elias Thackeray son of Mary Thackeray widow of 

Elias, thus encouraged, persevered in his studies, and 
was the first of the family to rise above their yeoman 
rank. He became Rector of Hauxwell in the North 
Riding, where he died a bachelor in 1737 A.D. Having 
no family of his own he was free to take an interest in the 
numerous family of his brother at Hampsthwaite. This 
brother, Timothy Thackeray, had meanwhile become the 
parish clerk of his native village, an office which passed 
on to four, if not five, of his descendants, and was held 
by the last of them up to very recent times. 

The eldest son of Timothy Thackeray, named after his 
grandfather, Thomas, was put forward by his worthy 
uncle, the Rector of Hawkswell. Born in 1693 A.D., he 


successively became Head Master of Harrow School, 
Doctor of Divinity, and Archdeacon of Surrey, and died 
in 1760 A.D. 

From Archdeacon Thackeray's family of sixteen children, 
has come a long list of names of men eminent alike in the 
Church, in the Army, and in Literature. They cannot 
here be even enumerated. The youngest son the 16th 
was William Makepeace Thackeray, afterwards of the 
India Civil Service, and who died at Hadley in 1815 
A.D. His grandson, bearing the same somewhat peculiar 
Christian name, was Willliam Makepeace Thackeray, the 
subject of this paper, the author, satirist, and novelist. 

No adequate biography of this eminent man has yet 
been given to the public, and but gleanings only, from the 
great field of his life and works, can be given here. 

He was born in 1811 A.D., at Calcutta, where his father, 
Richmond Thackeray, who also was in the India service, 
resided. In 1816 A.D. his father died, and he, the only 
child, was brought home by his mother, and placed at 
Charter House. From thence he proceeded to Trinity 
College Cambridge, in 1829 A.D., where he manifested his 
predilection for literature, by taking a foremost part in one 
or two humorous publications in the University. He left Cam- 
bridge before the time for proceeding to a degree ; and af ter- 
terwards studied at Weimar, and, especially painting, at Paris. 

On coming of age in 1832 A.D., he inherited a fortune 
of about 500 a year, much of which, both principal and 
interest, was, soon afterwards, sunk and lost in literary 
ventures, and some by a bank failure. 

Thus thrown upon his resources, he tried one or two 
precarious means of livelihood, but ultimately, about 1836 
A.D., settled down to literature as a profession. The 
" Times," " Frazer's Magazine," and " Punch," especially 
the latter, had the benefit of his contributions for many 
years. The great fame of Punch, some years ago, was 
due to the contributions of Thackeray and Leech. During 
this time he also published several books of sufficient note 
to establish his name before the public. In 1846 A.D., he 


commenced the publication of " Vanity Fair," and when 
it was finished, in 1848 A.D., its author held a foremost 
position in the ranks of literary men, and a reputation 
which will live long as the English language survives. 

At intervals of two years each in 1850 A. D. 1852 
A.D., and 1854 A.D., " Vanity Fair " was followed by 
" Pendennis," " Esmond," and " The Newcomes." In 
1856 A.D. he prepared and delivered in that and the 
following years, his Lectures on " The Humourists of 
the 18th century," followed by a second series on " The 
four Georges." ""The Virginians " was published in 1857 
A.D., and in 1859 A.D., he undertook the last great work 
of his life, the editorship of the then projected Cornhill 
Magazine. The Magazine proved an enormous success. 
Therein appeared " The four Georges," the incomparable 
" Roundabout Papers," and " The Adventures of Philip." 

Thackeray had married, in 1837 A.D., and three 
daughters, one of whom alone survives, were the fruit 
of the marriage. They were very dear to him, and his 
closest companions. In one of his ballads " The White 
Squall," he thus speaks of them ; 

" I thought, as day was breaking, 
My little girls were waking, 
And smiling, and making 

A prayer at home for me." 

In thS height of his fame and prosperity he did not 
forget the old family nest in the forest, but on one if not 
more than one occasion he sought it out and did his 
devoir at the shrine of his ancestors. His daughters 
accompanied him. The one now left herself occupying 
a place in the world of literature not unworthy her illus- 
trious father, says of one of these visits, in a letter to the 
present writer, " I was with my father when he made a 
journey to Hampsthwaite ; and we saw the place where 
the home had once stood on the slope of the hill, and from 
which his progenitors had set out on their journies * 
This little expedition with my father is one of the happiest 
recollections of my old life." - 


On December 24th 1863 A.D., Thackeray died suddenly, 
at the large house, he had recently erected for himself, at 
Palace Green, Bayswater, in the 53rd year of his age, and 
was interred at Kensal Green. An excellent bust to his 
memory is placed in the great national mausoleum, West- 
minster Abbey, where Lord Houghton, and many other of 
his friends, thought the remains themselves ought to have 

Thackeray was not without serious faults. As a writer 
he certainly looked too much upon the worse side of 
human nature and the world. Satire, concealed or open, 
seems to run through all his works, and the reader, while 
fascinated by them, rises from the perusal of them, in 
anything but good humour with his race. 

Personally, Thackeray is said to have been one of the 
kindest, most generous, and gentle of men. Whatever, 
therefore, of cynicism, or satire, finds a place in his 
writings, was not the offspring of his own nature, but 
must have arisen from an unfortunate experience, or undue 
estimate, of the evil in the men and women of Society. 

Shirley Brooks, in an " In Memoriarn " in Punch, speaks 
beautifully and probably hits the truth when he writes, 

" He was a cynic ! By his life all wrought 

Of generous acts, niild words and gentle ways ; 

His heart wide open to all kindly thought, 
His hand so quick to give, his tongue to praise ! 

He was a cynic ! You might read it writ 

In that broad brow, crowned with its silver hair ; ; 

In those blue eyes, with childlike candour lit, 
In that sweet smile his lips were wont to wear ! 

He was a cynic ! By tbe love that clung 

About him from his children, friends, and kin ; 

By the sharp pain, light pen, and gossip tongue 
Wrought in him, chafing the soft heart within ! " 





FEB. i4TH, 1879 A.D. 

How sleep the brave who sink to rest, 
By all their country's wishes bless' d ! 

By fairy hands their knell is rung ; 
By forms unseen their dirge is sung ; 
There honour comes, a pilgrim gray, 
To bless the turf that wraps their clay ; 
And Freedom shall awhile repair, 
To dwell a weeping hermit there." 


Melville take the colours, 
Here take the colours, twain ; 
No gain it were to keep them 
To grace a despot's train ; 

" Make way o'er drift and brushwood, 

Make way as best you can, 
The Zulus now surround us, 
We must perish to a man ! " 

" Men of the Twenty Fourth ! 

Our colours back I send, 
But we are here, and here we stand 
And fight it to the end ; 

" Our colours saved with honour, 

Will lead men on again, 
When long our life-blood's watered 
This fatal Afric plain ! " 


Thus spake the gallant Colonel,* 
When the camp was all but lost, 

And closer round was closing, 
The untold Zulu host. 

Then turned, and foremost fighting, 

As ever in the van, (1) 
He fell, and there, around him, 

Fell nigh every man. 

Young Melville took the colours, 

With Coghill (2) at his side, 
And nobly thus they bore them, 

Through the darkly surging tide. (3) 

* Lieutenant Colonel Pulleine, who at first commanded the camp 
at Isandhlwana, on the fatal morning of its destruction by the Zulus, was 
the son of the late Rev. Robert Pulleine rector of Kirkby Wiske. The 
family are believed to be descended from that branch of the forest 
family, of the name, seated at Killinghall. 

" When the loss of the camp seemed quite certain, Colonel Pulleine 
called Lieutenant Melville, and said, "Lieutenant Melville, you and 
your senior Lieutenant will take the colours and make the best of your 
way." He shook hands with him, and then turned round and said, 
" Men of the 24th we are here, and here we stand and fight it out to the 
end." He was quite cool and collected. These were probably his last 
words, for he fell early in the fight." The Kaffrarian Watchman. 

(1) " Lieutenant Colonel Pulleine started for the front bright and 
happy. At last he had his wish. He had always said, " When the bell 
rings I shall be there." Letter from South Africa. 

(2) Lieutenant Coghill was the eldest son of Sir John Jocelyn 
Coghill of Glen Barrahane, County Cork in Ireland. The following 
account of the family, connecting Lieut. Coghill with Knaresbrough, and 
taken from a history of the family compiled by Mr. James Henry 
Coghill, of New York, will be of interest. 

A John Cockhill gent, of Cockhill in Co. York was living in reign of 
Eichard IE and Henry IV. His son Thomas Coghill married Marjory 
daughter of John Slingsby of Scriven. and was father of Thomas 
Coghill the younger, whose son Marmaduke Coghill married Maude, 
daughter of John Pulleine of Killinghall. He rebuilt Coghill Hall in 
1555 A.D. This house continued the seat of the family until sold by Sir 
John Thomas Coghill Bart, to the Countess Conyngham in 1796 A.D. 
Since then it has gone by the name of Conyingham Hall and is now the 
seat of Basil Thomas Woodd, Esq. 

The above Marmaduke Coghill was the father of Thomas Coghill, 
whose son, Thomas, was the father of John Coghill baptized at 


They braved the living ocean, 

Of fiends that round them press'd, 
As vessel braves the billow 

That bears it on its crest. 

They sped o'er rock and brushwood, 

The swift pursued by swift, 
Adown the rapid torrent bed, 

And by the famed Drift ; 

Till 'fore them rolled the river, 

And 'hind the foemen press'd, 
When Melville took the colours 

And wound them round his breast. 

Then like the noble Romans, (1) 

They swam the swollen flood, 
As flew the deadly assegai, 

And waters blushed with blood. 

The further bank they gained, 

Pursued, bleeding, spent, 
Then to the shelt'ring ravine, 

Their painful footsteps bent. 

Knaresborough March llth, 1615 A.D. and who married Lucy, 
daughter of Thomas Tancred of Whixley Hall. They had issue 
an only son, John Coghill, a master in Chancery who was knighted in 
1686 A.D. He died in 1699 A.D. and was the ancestor in the female 
line, of Sir John Joceyln Coghill Bart, of Glen Barrahane. Sir John 
by paternal descent is a Cramer, his grandfather Sir John Cramer 
assumed the name of Coghill in compliance with the will of his cousin, 
Hester, Countess of Charleville. 

Hargrove, in his history of Knaresbrough and its Forest, states that 
the arms of both Coghill and Cramer were, when he wrote, to be seen on 
the front of Coghill Hall. 

(3) " On looking back, I saw our men completely surrounded, firm 
as a rock, falling rapidly but fighting to the last. The loud yell of the 
Zulus filled the air. There was no other noise, except the demoniac 
shrieks, as the awful work was done with the short stabbing assegai. I 
saw Lieutenant Coghill trying to fight his way through, as also 
Adjutant Melville, who had seized the colours, and was vainly trying to 
carry them through." Narrative of Mr. Young. 

(1) Horatius, Lartius and Herminius. 


With back to rock together, 
They turned to die, or slay ; 

Side by side and foot by foot, 
They, as lions, stood at bay. 

In face of clam'ring hundreds, 
Their charge unflinching kept, 

'Till o'er it flowed their life-blood; 
And in its folds they slept. (1) 

Now long as hearts of Britons 
Are warm, and true, and bold, 

And long as deeds of daring 
And feats of arms are told, 

And long as duty's pathway 
Is held more dear than life, 

And name of " God and country," 
Stands foremost in the strife, 

Let Britain point her children, 
To the far Afric land, 

When duty calls them, boldly, 
To do, and dare and stand, 

And with a mother's memory, 
And all a mother's pride, 

Bid them to die for duty, 
As these, her heroes, died." 

(1) The bodies of Lieutenant Adjutant Melville and Lieutenant 
Coghill were found by the side of a precipitous path, about half a mile 
from the Buffalo river. The bodies of a number of Zulus were laid at a 
short distance from them, showing that they had sold their lives dearly, 
while beneath their bodies were found the colours of the Regiment. The 
Queen's colours were discovered, little injured, on the side of 
the river about 400 yards below the crossing place. They might have 
been wrenched from the hands of the brave custodians by the flood in 
crossing ; but more probably they had been taken from their dead 
bodies by some of their pursuers, and afterwards cast where they were 
found, their value not being known. 




j!BOUT sixty years ago there resided, at West 
Houses near Bluberhouses, in one of a row of 
cottages almost adjoining the large factory of 
Messrs. Coldbeck, Wilks, and Ellis, a worthy, skilled 
blacksmith, or mechanic, named Samuel Collyer, with his 
equally estimable wife. They had been atttracted to this 
busy hive of industry then in the zenith of its prosperity 
in the forest, from the sunny south ; Samuel Collyer 
from London, his wife from Norwich. 

"My father," writes the son the subject of this leaf, "was 
one of the most healthful men I ever knew, and my mother one 
of the most healthful women. My father's eyes were dark and 
soft, my mother's were blue blended with grey, and could snap fire 
and make things boom. * * * * My father was as good a 
smith as ever stood at an anvil, and that was all. He had no other 
faculty, except that of striking a tune in the little meeting house, 
and you were not sure what the tune was going to be until he got 
to the end of the first line. But my mother was a woman of such 
a faculty, though she could hardly read or write, that, I believe, 
if she had been ordered to take charge of a 70 gun ship, and to 
carry it through a battle, give her time to learn the ropes, and 
she would do it. She had in her, also, wells of poesy and humour, 
and laughter so shaking, that the tears would stream clown her 
face, and a deep abiding, tenderness like that of the saints." 

Robert, one of several children of this estimable couple, 
is the subject of this memoir. 

He was born in the early part of the year 1824 A.D., 
but not in the forest home of his parents. 


" Robert," says his mother, " was born at Keighley, though our 
home, before and after, was at Blubberhouses. My husband had 
a difference with his employer about wages and went away to 
Keighley, where Robert was born, but he was only nine days old 
when his employer sent for my husband again, and we went back 
to Blubberhouses, where my son was christened, and which is 
the only early home he remembers." 

At four years old, Robert was sent to a school at 
Fewston two miles away kept by Willie Hardy. Willie 
was a cripple, having been deprived, in infancy, by illness, 
of the use of his legs. His establishment was a thoroughly 
characteristic country school of the first half of this century, 
yet one of which many, who are men and women now, 
once pupils in it, have kindly and pleasant recollections. 

The school-room was also the living-room of the family. 
On the hearth stood the small round table for the family 
meals, flanked, in each corner, by the usual high-backed 
chair. Three or four benches, or " forms," as they were 
called, for the younger scholars, occupied the centre of 
the room. Along one side, by the window, stood the desk, 
accommodating ten or a dozen of the head scholars face 
to face; and at the end, in his comfortable arm chair, 
during school hours sat the master. Each pupil " came 
up" to him, in turn, " to read," or repeat his lesson. On a 
table at the master's right hand rested the end of a long, 
tough, hazel rod not unlike the instrument which worthy 
Dr. Johnson described as, "a long stick with a hook and 
worm at one end and a fool at the other." The small end 
of this rod was placed in a loop, hanging from the ceiling, 
above the heads of the youngsters. When necessity 
required, it was easily unlooped, to be brought with a 
thwack on the head, or shoulders, of any luckless offender 
in however distant a part of the room. Intellectual 
progress, we may be sure, was not very rapid and the 
three R's, with a little mensuration for the more advanced 
pupils, was the extent of the learning contemplated. 

Willie Hardie continued his school up to his death, in 
1879 A.D., which, curiously enough, was almost co-inci- 
dent with the opening of the Board School in the village. 


He served his generation and then his work being done 
fell asleep. 

" The master is dead, and the schoolmates are fled, 

Wand' ring the wild world o'er; 
Some sleep in the grave, and some over the wave, 
Whose faces we see no more." 

This school was the only one that Robert Collyer ever 
attended and this only from four to eight years of age. 

No merciful legislation, at that time, protected those who 
could not protect themselves; and at the age of eight 
years Robert was put to work at the factory. There 
were no half-timers, and no half holidays, in those days, 
but from six o'clock in the morning to eight at night, it 
was work, work, work, for young children, tender women, 
and strong men alike. 

At this employment the child remained for six years, 
evidently, in spite of circumstances, not unhappy years. 
Home influences, and the buoyant spirits of childhood, 
could sweeten even ceaseless labour. The following sketch 
of his early home is from his own pen. 

" But in those brave old days, while the first fifteen 
years were passing, which do so much for us all, there 
we were altogether in one of the sweetest cottage homes 
that ever nestled under green leaves in a green valley. 
There was a plum tree, and a rose tree, and wealth of ivy, 
and a bit of greensward, outside ; and inside, one room on 
the floor, and two above ; a floor of flags scoured white, 
so that you might eat your dinner on it, and no harm done 
except to the floor ; walls whitewashed to look like driven 
snow, with pictures of great Bible figures hung where 
there was room; and, in their own places, kept as bright 
as to be so many dusky mirrors, the great mahogany chest 
of drawers and high-cased clock, polished elm chairs, and 
corner cupboard for the china which was only got out 
at high festivals ; a bright, open, sea-coal fire, always 
alight, winter and summer ; with all sorts of common 
things for common use stowed away snug and tight in 
their own corners, like the goods and chattels of Ed'ard 


Cuttle, mariner. That was the home in the day of small 
things, when the world was young 1 and the glory of life 
was in its spring." 

At 15 years of age Robert passed out of this home to 
a very different one. 

There resided at Ilkley over the moors, in Wharf e- 
dale, a man, John Birch, of the same trade as Samuel 
Collyer and who, in early days, had befriended him in 
some way. Birch had also married Frances, or u Frankie" 
Robinson of Bluberhouses, which may have led to the 
continuance of his acquaintance with the Collyers. To 
this man, Robert was apprenticed to learn the trade of a 
blacksmith, and took up his abode in his master's house at 
Ilkley. Here he continued to reside from this time, 1839 
A.D., until he married, and emigrated to the United States. 
And while here, under most adverse circumstances, he 
built up the edifice of the wide knowledge of books, of men, 
and things, manifested in his after life. With his workiug 
tool in one hand and a book in the other, he diligently 
used both. We are told of him, that while working at 
the anvil, or standing by the forge, he had a book, held 
open by scraps of iron, on a shelf by his side. He, and 
three or four other youths, united together, in their leisure 
hours, for mutual instruction and self culture ; their money 
was clubbed to obtain good books, and, in the summer 
time, retiring to the fields and hill sides, and in the long 
winter evenings by the light of a common candle, they 
pored over their treasures together. The passion for 
reading, which, in childhood's days in the forest, devoured 
" The Pilgrim's Progress," and " Robinson Crusoe," was 
now turned to mastering such works as the " Encyclopoedia 
Britannica," the best English Reviews and Macauley's Essays. 

Thus employed years passed away* In 1844 A.D., 
Samuel Collyer, the father, died, very suddenly, as he 
stood at his anvil, and the old home at West Houses was 
broken up. 

To his trade, and his studies, Robert added, about 1848 
A.D., the work of a local preacher among the Methodists ; 


and this led him to .visit, and ever since take an interest in, 
many of the neighbouring villages and dales. 

The impulse, which has moved so many of his fellow- 
countrymen to seek a home and position in the New 
World, became too strong to be resisted in Collyer ; and 
in 1850 A.D. he married, and immediately afterwards 
quitted the shores of old England for those of the United 
States of America. He settled near Philadelphia, and for 
eight or nine years, there followed his trade of a black- 
smith ; on Sundays still going forth as a local Methodist 
preacher. But during this time, his continued assiduous 
self culture, education, and mental and moral force of 
character, were steadily bringing him to the fore among 
men. His religious views, seem, however, to have drifted 
away from the old creed of John Wesley, and John 
Wesley's dearly loved Mother Church, and a separation 
ensued. Unfortunately he found the ranks of Unitarian- 
ism to afford him a more congenial sphere, and removed 
to the quickly rising 1 city of Chicago, where for some time 
he was employed as a missionary among the poor, and the 
young men, of the city. 

In 1859 A.D. he was ordained to the pastorate of the, 
then lately formed, congregation known as Unity Church. 
His ministry in this charge from that time, until he quitted 
it in 1879 A.D. for that of the church of the Messiah 
in New York, seems to have been one of the most popular 
in the United States. As a preacher his fame spread to 
the old world, as through the new. He was sought to 
occupy important pastorates in other cities but declined 
to remove. In 1869 A.D. a very magnificent edifice was 
erected, for him by the congregation at the cost of 
210,000 dollars. At its opening, on the 20th of June 
in that year, the offertory amounted to 57,000 dollars 
(11,500), which is said to have been the largest 
offertory ever made in America, and probably, in the 
world. Two years later, that is in 1871 A.D., occurred the 
disastrous fire in Chicago which reduced the principal 
portion of the city to ashes, and among other of its stately 


edifices, Unity Church. This was a heavy blow to 
its pastor. His own home was consumed, and almost 
every member of his congregation suffered great 
loss. An appreciative chronicler says, " It (Unity Church) 
had not merely been built for him but built by him, and 
was his pride and joy. When further effort was 
hopeless, that great stricken poet preacher was led away, 
blind, and nearly distracted, from excess of exertion and 
exposure to smoke and dust. He recovered his sight, 
however, and on the following Sunday he gathered his 
people around him in the open air, and preached on the 
sorrow that had befallen them all, comforting and 
exhorting them all to a good courage. He ended his 
sermon by a brief reference to his own position. He 
would stay by his people, he said. He did not think they 
could find a cheaper parson, he had preached one year for 
75, cents and could do it again if necessary. He could 
support himself, for the present, by lecturing, and, as a last 
resource, he could make as good a horse- shoe as any 
blacksmith in Chicago." 

It was some similar allusion to his olden life, that led the 
students, of one of the rising Universities of the west, to 
commission Collyer to forge for them a horse-shoe, at 1,050 
dollars, which they raised among themselves. He accepted 
the commission and did the work, and the shoe now figures 
among the treasured objects of the Academic Museum. 

From all parts of the States, and from England, offerings 
came flowing in to repair the loss, and a second Unity 
Church, more capacious than the former, but less costly 
and magnifical, arose without the pastor having to resort to 
his old trade, " and the pulpit of that church is to this day 
one of the noblest and mightiest civilizing powers in the 
great west." 

Two volumes of sermons, " Nature and life," and " The 
Life that now is," and a pleasant little book, " Simple 
truth," are the best known, but form only a portion of his 
many sermons, lectures, and essays, which have found 
their way to the general public both in England and 


America. These have gone through several editions, one 
of them, " Nature and Life" was in its 10th edition in 
1876 A.D. The sermons are brim full of the poetry of the 
sorrows, trials, joys, aspirations, and hopes of humanity. 
All the beautiful fragments of the broken Divine Image in 
man are admirably delineated. The wellings up of a large, 
generous, manly heart are manifest on every page. But> 
as might be expected, there is, to an English churchman, 
the lack of the restoring, binding dogma of the Church's 
creed. Without this a churchman must regard all teach- 
ing as incomplete. In these volumes, truth is presented 
like fair, lovely, and loving woman, beautiful and noble in 
herself, but incomplete without the force, the power, the 
hard muscle and firm bone of man, on which to lean. 
There is, throughout them, the poetry of the Divine 
Fatherhood, and of manhood, wanting the uniting bond of 
the God-man, with the certainty, and stay, of definite 
Divine Revelation to rest upon. But this must necessarily 
be the case, from the position the worthy author has 
taken up in Theology, and what to us seem to be the 
defects of his doctrine, probably are to him its greatest 

However this may be, these volumes are deserving 
of the notice they have attracted. As a preacher, and 
lecturer, none is more sought after than their author, 
and none more popular throughout the length and 
breadth of his adopted country. The highest literary 
and intellectual society is open to him, while his name 
is a household word in America, and not unknown on 
this side of the water certainly not unknown in the 

How the factory boy, from the forest in the old country, 
has become one of the first preachers, literary, and in- 
tellectual men, of the great new one in the west, must 
ever be a leaf from the forest's history, instructive, as 
it is romantic! Two stanzas from a poem, "Saxon 
grit," by Collyer, perhaps bear upon the origin of the 



" Then rising afar in the western sea, 

A- new world stood in the morn of day, 
Ready to welcome the brave and free, 

Who could wrench out the heart and march away 
From the narrow, contracted, dear old land, 

Where the poor are held by a cruel bit, 
To ample spaces for heart and hand, 

And here was a chance for the Saxon grit. 

Then slow and sure, as the oaks have grown, 

From the acorns that fell on that old dim day, 
To this new manhood in city and town, 

To a nobler stature shall grow alway ; 
Winning by inches, holding by clinches, 

Slow to contention, and slower to quit, 
Now and then failing, but never once quailing ; 

Let us thank God for the Saxon grit." 

The Rev. Robert Collyer is now (1881 A.D.) pastor of 
the church of the Messiah in New York, a charge to 
which he was reluctantly induced to remove, from his first 
love in Chicago, in 1879 A.D. 

In 1865 A.D., and 1871 A.D., and again in 1878 A.D., he 
visited the old country, and his forest home, to which he 
clings with an affection characteristic of his strong, tender 
nature. Views of it, and of the surrounding scenery, adorn 
his rooms in New York. On his last visit, he delivered a 
lecture, in the New School-room at Fewston, on an in- 
teresting episode in the village history two hundred and 
sixty years ago. .And his Archaeological and Historical 
knowledge of the neighbourhood and especially of Ilkley 
and its surroundings, is almost unequalled, while his 
collection of Yorkshire books is perhaps the largest in 

The following anecdote related in Harper's Magazine 
some years ago, together with two or three reminiscences 
of his childhood's forest home, from his own tongue or pen, 
will aptly close this notice of Robert Collyer. 

"The smithy" (in which Collyer had worked at Ilkley) "was 
drawing near to its day of disappearance. But before that day 
arrived, a gentleman appeared at the door and inspected, with some 
interest, an anvil standing in the centre of the shop. 


' How long has that anvil been here ? ' he asked of the black- 
smith ? 

'Why,' said the workman, 'it must have been here thirty or 
forty year.' 

' Well,' said the gentleman, ' I will give you twice as much for 
that aavil as will buy you a new one.' 

' Certainly,' replied the puzzled smith ; ' but I would like to 
know what you want with this anvil.' 

' I will tell you. There was formerly an apprentice in this shop 
who used to work at it. That boy has now become a great man. 
Thousands love and honour him as a friend and a teacher, and 
I wish to carry back this anvil, to America, as a memorial of the 
humble beginning of his life.' 

The bargain was completed, and the anvil is now in Chicago." 

Harper's Magazine. 

In a speech delivered in, London, June 3rd, 1871 A.D. Collyer, 
said : " There has never been a moment, in the 21 years that I 
have been absent from this land, when it has not been one of my 
proudest recollections, that I came of this grand old English stock, 
that my grandfather fought with Nelson at Trafalgar ; and my 
father was an Englishman, and my mother an Englishwoman, 
and that so far as I can trace my descent back and back, and that 
is just as far as my grandfather we are all English, every one of 
us. Well, there is not a day when I stand on the lake shore that I 
do not see the moors, that are lifted up about my old habitation, 
and a little stone cottage nestling in among the greenery, and the 
glancing waters, and the lift of the lark with his song up into 
heaven until you cannot see him, and a hundred other things 
besides that belong to this blessed place of my birth and breeding." 
The Inquirer, June 3rd, 1871 A.D. 

" There was an old well at which I used to drink when I was a 
boy. I thought there was no well like it in the world, clear, 
brown water distilled from the moors. I longed to drink again of 
that well through all the years I lived in this new world, as David 
longed to drink of the well at Bethlehem. I went back at last, 
and drank deep of it ; but the water did not taste quite so sweet as 
I expected. I went again, and just put my lips to the water for 
love of the old memories. I went again last summer but one. An 
old peasant woman was filling her pitcher there. I began to ask 
her about the life which was one with mine once, and has passed 
away. She was a living chronicle, told me a wealth of things I 
longed to know, of life and death, sorrow and joy, shadow and 
shine, touching and pathetic some of them beyond imagination, 


took up her pitcher and went home ; and I went my way with wet 
tears, and was ever so far from the old well before I bethought me 
that I had not even wet my lips this time. I did not care any 
more for the sweet, hazel-brown, water. I had been seeing visions 
of the soul's life." Sermon-Unity Pulpit, Boston, Feb. 1881 A.D. 

"Again," he writes, "I want to tell, what one. of my 
children used to call, a true story." 

" It came to me one day when I went on a pilgrimage to a huge 
old factory, in the valley of the Washburn in Yorkshire, in the 
summer of 1865 A.D. The handful of people left there then were 
at work among the wheels and spindles, watching me between 
whiles ; for strangers seldom came to that remote place, and I was 
clearly a stranger ; and then my dress was not what they were 
used to, especially my American " wide-awake." They were as 
strange to me, as I was to them. There was not a face I knew, no 
not one. And yet this was where I was once as well-known to 
everybody as the child is to its mother, and where I knew every- 
body as I knew my own kinsfolk ; for it was here that I began life, 
and lived it for a space that now seems a lifetime all to itself. And 
this brings me to my dream. 

I saw in one of the great dusty rooms of the factory, a little 
fellow about eight years old, but big enough to pass for ten, 
working away from six o'clock in the morning till eight at night, 
tired almost sometimes to death, and then again not tired at all, 
rushing out when work was over, and, if it was winter, home to 
some treasure of a book. There was " Eobinson Crusoe," and 
" Bunyan's Pilgrim," and " Goldsmith's Histories of England and 
Rome," and the first volume of " Sandford and Merton," and one or 
two more that had something to do with theology 

One of these books, that used to lead all boys captive in those 
good old days, this boy, I saw in my dream, would hug up close to 
his bowl of porridge, and eat and read ; and then would read after 
he had done eating, while ever the careful house-mother would 
allow a candle or a coal. But, if it was summer time, the books 
would be neglected, and the rush would be out into the elds and 
lanes, hunting, in the early summer, for birds' nests the tender and 
holy home canon would never permit to be robbed, and it was 
always obeyed ; or, in the later summer, seeing whether the sloes 
were turning ever so little from green to black, or whether the 
crabs (of the wood, not the water) were vulnerable to a boy's sharp 
and resolute teeth, and when the hazel-nuts would be out of that 
milky state at which it would be of any use to pluck them, and 
what was the prospect for hips and haws. 

The men who profess to know j ust how we are made, as a watch- 
maker knows a watch, tell us that once in seven years we get a 


brand new body; and that old things become new. I wonder 
sometimes if it is not so with our life. Is that new as well as the 
frame ? There I was that day, a grey-haired minister from a city 
which had been born and had come to its great place, since the 
small lad began to work in the old mill as I saw him at the end of 
a vista of four and thirty years ! 

I watched him with a most pathetic interest. ' Dear little chap/ 
I said, ' you had a hard time ; but then it was a good time too, 
wasn't it, now ? ' How good bread and butter did taste, to be 
sure, when half a pound of butter a week had to be divided among 
eight of us, and white wheaten bread saved for Sunday ! Did ever 
a flower in this world beside smell as good as the primrose, or prima 
donna sing like the skylark and throstle ? Money cannot buy such 
a Christmas pudding, or tears, or prayers, such a Christmas-tide as 
the mother made, and the Lord gave, when you and the world were 
young. Seven years you stuck to the old mill, and then you were 
only fifteen ; and then, just when they were crowning the Queen, 
you know, you had to give it up, and to give the home up with it, 
and to go out, and never return to stay. And so I lost sight of you 
out of that hard but blessed life in and out of the factory, and have 
never set eyes on you until to-day, you dear little other-one, that 
was dead and is alive again, was lost and is found ! 

This is my story, and I tell it as a word of encouragement to 
many who may need such a word, about the way of life which I 
have travelled many miles since I set out, not knowing whither I 
went, to the pulpit and pastorate of Unity Church." 

" The Simple Truth " " Looking back." 1878 A.D 

He now would say " this is niy story of the way which 
I have travelled, many miles since I set out, not knowing 
whither I went, to the pulpit and pastorate of the Church 
of the Messiah at New York, and to the primacy of 
the Unitarian Church in the United States." 

The following " Story in Rhyme," as he calls it, is from 
Collyer's pen, and may fitly find a place among, " Lays and 
Leaves of the Forest." 


It was Christmas eve in the year 'fourteen, 

And, as ancient dalesmen used to tell, 
The wildest winter they ever had seen, 

With the snow lying deep on moor and fell. 


When waggoner John got out his team, 
Smiler, and Whitefoot, Dnke and Gray, 

With the light in his eyes of the young man's dream ; 
As he thought of his wedding on New Year's day, 

To Euth, the maid of the bonnie brown hair, 

And eyes of the deepest blue, 
Modest and winsome and wondrous fair ; 

And true to her troth, for her heart was true. 

" Thou's surely not going ? " shouted mine host ; 

" Thou'll be lost in the drift as sure as thou's born 
Thy lass winnot want to wed wi' a ghost, 

And that's what thou'll be on Christmas morn. 

It's eleven long miles from Skipton toon, 
To Blueberg hooses and Washburn dale, 

Thou had better turn back and sit thee doon, 
And comfort thy heart wi' a drop o' good ale." 

Turn the swallows flying south ! 

Turn the vines against the sun ! 
Herds from rivers in the drouth ! 

Men must dare or nothing's done. 

So what cares the lover for storm or drift, 
Or, peril of death on the haggard way, 

He sings to himself like a lark in the lift, 
And the joy in his heart turns December to May. 

But the wind from the north brings its deadly chill 
Creeping into his heart, and the drifts are deep ; 

Where the thick of the storm strikes Blueberg hill, 
He is weary, and falls, in a pleasant sleep ; 

And dreams he is walking by Washburn side, 
Walking with Euth on a summer's day, 

Singing that song to his bonnie bride, 
His own wife now for ever and aye. 

Now read me this riddle. How Euth should hear 
That song of a heart, in the clutch of doom ? 

It stole on her ear, distinct and clear, 
As if her lover was in the room. 

And read me this riddle. How Euth should know, 
As she bounds to throw open the heavy door, 

That her lover is lost in the drifting snow, 
Dying, or dead, on the great wild moor ? 



" Help ! Help ! " " Lost ! Lost ! " 

Kings through the night as she rushes away, 
Stumbling, blinded, and tempest-tossed, 

Straight to the drift where her lover lay. 

And swift they leap after her into the night, 

Into the drifts by Bluberg hill, 
Pullan, Ward, Kobinson, each with his light, 

To find her there, holding him, white and still ! 

" He was dead in the drift, then ? " 

I hear them say, 
As I listen in wonder, 

Forgetting to play, 
Fifty years since come Christmas day. 

" Nay, nay, they were wed," the dalesman cried, 
" By parson Carmalt o' New Year's day; 

Bonnie Ruth were me great-^reat-grandsire's bride, 
And Maister Frankland gave her away." 

" But, how did she find him under the snow ? " 
They cried with a laughter touched with tears. 

" Nay, lads," he said softly, " we never can know, 
No, not if we live a hundred years." 

" There's a sight o' things gan' 

To the making o' man." 

Then I rushed to my play, 

With a whoop and away, 

Fifty years syne come Christmas day. 



" The free fair homes of England ! 

Long, long, in hut and hall, 
May hearts of native proof be reared 

To guard each hallowed wall ! 
And green for ever be the groves, 

And bright the flowery sod, 
"Where first the child's glad spirit loves 

Its country and its God." 

Mrs. Hemans. 

Switzerland's dark rocks, I'm told, and mountains capp'd 

with snow, 

tOf fountains and of famed lakes, in deep green vales below; 
Of fair Italia's sunny skies, with Lombard's fruitful plain, 
Of purple vineyards in France ; and German's golden grain ; 
Of Norway's pine-clad hills, with streams of silver foaming down ; 
Of orange groves in sunny Spain, whose fruits the gods might own ; 
Of scenes of glory bright, I'm told, in ancient East the best ; 
Of prairies, mountains, forests grand, far in the glowing West. 
To none of these affection turns, 
For none of these the exile yearns. 

On Snowdon's hoary top I've stood, and looked o'er lovely Wales ; 
From foot to head I've wandered through the beauteous Yorkshire 

dales ; 

Killarney's emerald glades I've seen, and eke her silvery flood, 
Scotia's "mountains stern and wild, brown heath and shaggy wood;" 
In cities' tinsel glare new scenes, new joys, and friends, I've met ; 
Friends whose love, and loving care, no time will e'er forget ; 
And in the world's wide Senate House some honours I have won, 
In halls of rich and great have stood, when wit and beauty shone. 

Yet not to these does memory cling, 

Nor yet of these the poet sing. 


The home of youth in forest glen its green or rocky nooks ; 
Ancestral woods resounding loud, with caw of clam'rous rooks, 
The grand old trees beneath whose shade, in noontide heat I played, 
The heath-dyed burn on whose green banks, a truant boy, I strayed ; 
The fields, and braes, and wide brown moors, or deep thick-wooded 


Where first I plucked the primrose pale, the crow-foot, or hare-bell ; 
The grey crag tall by which I built my mimic house, or huts, 
The coppice grove where free I sought spring nests, or autumn nuts. 
To these it is that memory clings, 
And 'tis of these the poet sings. 

Schoolmates too with whom full oft the rock's high crest I scaled, 
Or, wandering on the Pleasant Mount, by well-known signals hailed ; 
The village maidens, brown and bright, with eyes of mirth and truth, 
That, like the sun of morning, lit the erosian bltish of youth; 
A father's care, and guiding hand laid gently on my head, 
The sense of watchful love and rest, a mother's smile can shed ; 
The church whose time-worn turret grey just peeping through the 

trees ; 
The dulcet peal of Sabbath bells as borne on evening breeze. 

To these it is affection turns, 

For these it is a wanderer yearns. 

World-weary and storm-tossed I seek, where them I found of yore, 

Alas ; to find that there, for me, they now exist no more ; 

The home, which deep in memory dwells, is far, though seems so 

And ev'ry well-known object round wakes but a plaintive sigh. 
I look around. The tree yet stands, and children love its shade ; 
And there the fields; and there the crag with marks long since I made; 
And there the burn, and there the flowers, the lane, the wood, the 

And children gambol there to-day, as we gainboll'd of old ! 

And still to these affection clings, 

And 'tis of these the poet sings. 

The playmates who with me were joined, in sports in heat or snow, 
Now know not him they knew so well ere furrows marked his brow, 
And though I pass their daily haunts, they raise no kenning eye, 
To me, once of themselves, but now, " a stranger passing by!" 
And many, O how many, with whom the path of youth I trod, 
Have lived, and loved, and sleep now deep beneath the green, green 

sod ! 

From where, at noon or eve, we met, in places then our homes, 
I'm bid to seek and con their names, writ on the mouldering tombs ! 

To these the lamps of memory burn, 

For these the exile's feet return. 


And gone the dearest ones of all, who hailed with joy my birth, 
Whose love and care once made their home, the home to me on 

earth ; 

That home beloved, of them bereft, has lost its dearest ties, 
And now exists but where they rest at home beyond the skies. 
Yet 'tis with tears, dear home of youth, and sorrow quick with pain, 
That after exile, sorrow, toil, I look on thee again. 
Unchanged ! yet deepest scars of change, on every side are seen ! 
Unchanged! so changed thou ne'er canst be, to me, what thou hast 
been ! 

Yet long to such affection clings, 

And 'tis of these the poet sings. 

God's House yet stands, and points on high, as it hath done of old, 
While generations long have passed, and ages slowly rolled ; 
There by One Spirit, in one faith, God's children still upraise, 
With heart and voice, the earnest prayer, and anthem, loud, of 

Faint type of that Kock-founded Church, which ne'er can pass 


But stands, unchanging, and unchanged, through the eternal day, 
Beneath thy shade, O lay me down when here my work is done, 
There let me sleep, with dear ones left, and those whose crown is 


And let the fragrance from the spot, where stood the forest home, 
By summer's breath, or autumn winds, be wafted o'er our tomb ! 
The exile home for this returns, 
It is to this hope brightly burns. 



:OREMOST among the men, who have sprung from 
forest-ancestry, stands the Rev. William Stubbs 
D.D., Canon of St. Paul's London, and Regius 
Professor of Modern History in the University of Oxford. 
By universal consent he is accorded a high place among 
the living Historians of this country. 

In the Lay- Subsidy Roll (given elsewhere among these 
leaves) of the 2nd year of Richard II. (1378-9 A.D.), 
under the heading " Wappentachium de Clarrowe, villa de 
Clynt," occurs the entry " Willelmus Stubbe et uxor 

The home of " William Stubbe and his wife," was at 
Birstwith, then included in " Villa de Clint." Surnames 
were only, at that period, coming into general use, and this 
William was probably the first who bore that of Stubbe. 
Even in his grandson's time, fifty years later, the name 
seems scarcely to have become fixed, as a family one, but 
was still " de " Stubbe, or Stubbes. The derivation is 
most probably from "stob," or "stub," the root end of a 
broken tree. Such an object, or objects, may have existed 
in the vicinity of the family residence, hence the members 
would receive the designation " de" i.e. "of," Stubb, or 

* "About 1350 A.D. flourished Thomas de Stoubbes or Stubs, who 
was born at York, or at least in Yorkshire, and entered the Order of 
Black Friars at York, and became Master of Theology. He was 
remarkable for ecclesiastical learning, and regular life. He was 
ordained Priest December 20th 1343 A.D. in Durham Cathedral, but 
the date of his death is unknown. From his learned pen fourteen 
valuable works proceeded." Yorkshire Arch&logical Society's Journal 
part xxiii. 


William Stubbe of 1379 A.D. had a son, also named 
William, and his son John de Stubbes, in 1430 A.D. was an 
officer " the Grave " of the Forest of Knaresborough. 

John de Stubbes's son, William Stubbes, resided at 
Ripon, but John de Stubbes's property at Birstwith des- 
cended, in 1442 A.D., to William's son, Thomas. 

This Thomas Stubbs of Ripon, was followed, in the suc- 
cession, by his son, also named Thomas, a little before 
1490 A.D. The second Thomas was also " Grave " of the 
Forest, and, therefore, had probably returned to residence 
at Birstwith, in 1498 A.D. His brother, William Stubbs, 
was chaplain, in 1516 A.D., to the Shepherd Lord Clifford 
of Skipton and Barden, and may have had something to do 
let us hope not, with that scape-grace son, the " Mad- 
cap Harry," of whom the father writes so despairingly in 
1512 or 1513 A.D. 

Thomas Stubbs died in 1535 A.D., and his son and 
successor, Miles Stubbs, died in 1555 A.D. Miles left two 
sons. William, the elder, married Alice Bilton, and went 
to reside at Felliscliffe. John, the other brother, also 
resided at the same place. 

William of Felliscliffe died in 1575 A.D. His third son 
was Thomas Stubbs, who resided at Whitewall and died 
there, in 1648 A.D., aged 75 years. 

Thomas, the son of Thomas of Whitewall, was connected 
by marriage with the Atkinsons, who held one of the 
principal farms, under the Ingilby family of Ripley, at 
Haverah Park, and, between 1664 A.D. and 1672 A.D., he 
succeeded Thomas Atkinson there as tenant. 

His son Thomas Stubbs of Haverah Park, born 1650 
A.D., married Alice Simpson of Clint, and died in 1716 A.D. 

Though tenants of the farm in Haverah Park, the family 
was of substantial yeoman rank, owning considerable 
property in the neighbourhood. The eldest son of Thomas, 
and his successor in the farm, was John Stubbs ; whose 
granddaughter Ann Stubbs only child of his son also 
named John Stubbs of Haverah Park married in 1774 
A.D., Thomas Parkinson of Cragg Hall, and was grand- 


mother of the present writer. As the sole heiress of her 
father she brought considerable landed, and other property, 
to the family. 

The fourth son of the last Thomas of Haverah Park was 
Joseph Stubbs, who broke away from the family home, 
and resided at Greystone plain, in Felliscliffe. He had 
three sons. (1) Thomas; (2) Joseph; and (3) William 
who resided in London, and from whom is descended the 
Rev. Stewart Dixon Stubbs, vicar of St. James's, Pentonville. 

Thomas Stubbs, the eldest son, born in 1735 A.D., 
removed to Ripley, and thence, he, or his descendants, 
successively, to Boroughbridge and Knaresborough, where, 
in the last generation, the family occupied the position of 
wine merchants, bankers and solicitors. 

At Knaresborough, in 1825 A.D., the great-grandson of 
Thomas Stubbs of Ripley was born William Stubbs, the 
subject of this article. 

He was educated at Knaresborough and at the Grammar 
School at Ripon, and thence proceeded, under the ptronage 
of Bishop Longley, to Christ Church Oxford, where he took 
the degree of B.A. in 1848 A.D., with first-class honours; 
and was in the same year ordained Deacon, by the Bishop 
of Oxford, and Priest in 1850 A.D. He was Fellow of 
Trinity College in Oxford from 1848 A.D. to 1851 A.D., 
and in the latter year, took his M.A. 

From 1850 A.D. to 1867 A.D. he held the College Living 
of Navestock in Essex. In 1858 A.D. he published 
" Registrum Sacrum Anglicanum," a work alone sufficient 
to hand down the name of its author, as a man of learning, 
untiring research, and accuracy of statement, to future 
ages. The late Archbishop of Canterbury, in 1862 A.D., 
appointed Mr. Stubbs, librarian and keeper of the manu- 
scripts, of the Archiepiscopal Library at Lambeth Palace, 
an office which he resigned in 1867 A.D. 

In the preceding year he had been nominated to the 
Regius Professorship of Modern History in his University, 
and he again took up residence in Oxford. He is Honorary 
Student of Christ Church, Curator of the Bodleian Library 


and of the Taylor Institute, Delegate of the Press, member 
of the Hebdomadal Council, and also of many Royal and 
other, British and Foreign, learned societies. 

Since his return to Oxford, one valuable historical work 
after another has been edited by him, or has flowed 
forth from his deep, and accurate researches, and facile 
pen. The greatest of these works is, undoubtedly, the 
" Constitutional History of England," in three volumes, 
from the earliest times to the accession of the first of the 
Tudors. It is devoutly to be hoped, that opportunity, in 
the midst of his many labours, may be given to enable him 
to continue this most valuable and exhaustive work, 
through, at least, the important epochs of the Tudors and 

This " leaf " shall conclude with the testimony of two, 
from among that of many scholars and writers of note, to 
Dr. Stubbs's work and position as a Historian. The 
following is by Edward A. Freeman Esq., F.S.A., 
given in a lecture on " Points in Early Northumberland 
History" delivered at Hull, and afterwards published in 
Macmillan's Magazine, for September 1876 : 

" On later times I will not enter ; I need not read in your ears 
the long bede-roll of the worthies of your shire. Among the 
honoured names of Northern England I will name but one, the 
latest, but not the least. It is by no unfitting cycle that the list of 
the great historians of England, which began with a man of 
Bernicia, ends, as yet, with a man of Deira. The line which began 
with Beeda goes on, through Simeon of Durham and Eoger of 
Howden and other worthy names, till, in our own day, the same 
Northern land has sent forth, in Professor Stubbs, the most 
life-life portrait painter of English kings, and the most profound 
expounder of the English constitution. From one, who lived at 
Jarrow and who sleeps at Durham, the torch has been handed on 
to one, who has come forth from Knaresborough and Kipon, to 
make the form of the second Henry stand before us as a living 
man, to make the legislation of the first Edward stand before us 
as a living thing." 

The next is from an account of " The Constitutional 
History of England" by a writer in the Quarterly Review, 
January April 1879 A.D. 


" We have intimated that, in respect to the main flow of the 
English constitution, there has been little left for Mr. Stubbs's 
erudition to discover. But in those numerous details of the 
current, which form most important episodes of our History, 
Mr. Stubbs is ever increasing our knowledge, not only from the 
stores of his investigation, in which he has no superior, past 
or present, but from that profound insight, which makes old, 
and well known, facts luminous with new ideas. These important 
volumes will make English History a new study, and a new 
pleasure, for this generation. We only wish Mr. Stubbs may be 
induced to continue his work, into the later reigns. Such a guide 
in the Stuart period, for instance, would be invaluable. 

" We cannot but express our great satisfaction, that the eminent 
services, which Mr. Stubbs has thus rendered to the cause of sound 
learning, have at length received due recognition and encourage- 
ment. His recent appointment to a Canonry in St. Paul's 
Cathedral, is^one of the most conspicuous instances of the justice 
and discernment, with which the ecclesiastical patronage of the 
Crown, has of late been generally administered. Upon no one 
could the post hare been more worthily bestowed, and such a 
nomination confers honour upon the Prime Minister, as well as Mr. 

It was in 1879 A.D. that the late Earl of Beaconsfield, then 
Prime Minister, nominated, on behalf of the Crown, Profes- 
sor Stubbs to the Canonry, vacated by the promotion of Dr. 
Lightfoot to the See of Durham, in the Cathedral Church 
of St. Paul, London. His University on the occasion, 
conferred on him the degree of Doctor of Divinity, and on 
the same day he was made honorary LL.D. at Cambridge. 
The graceful act, on the part of the Premier, was received, 
by all parties, with much favour, as the recognition of great 
erudition, and untiring industry, and merited the encomium 
of the Reviewer as being equally to the honour " of him 
who gave and him who took." 



The two bells of St. Michael's Church, North Otterington, bear 
the following inscriptions : the smaller bell, " Holiness to the Lord, 
A.D. 1658." The other, "Jehove sanctitatem consonemus soror 
parvula; A,D. 1689," 

i ! wide our notes of invitation fling- 
On Sabbath morn, with song and sunshine round, 
And hallow the very breezes with the sound, 
By which God's servants to His House we ring. 
0, little sister, ever thus let us chime with one accord, 
O'er lea, and hill, and hamlet, " Holiness to the Lord." 

And when again we hail the bridal day, 

And beating hearts, in youthful ardour light, 
Their holy vows before our altar plight, 

As with glad step they start on life's brief way ; 

0, little sister, let us sweetly ring with high accord, 

To bridegroom, and to bride, " Holiness, to the Lord." 

But when, around, the scene is one of woe, 
And forth we send the sad funereal knell, 
To breasts that full, with anguish, sink and swell, 

And burning tears of dark bereavement flow ; 

0, little sister, let us toll, alone, or in accord, 

O'er fatherless and widow, " Holiness to the Lord." 

0, spare us time ! 0, spoiler's hand pass by ! 

Still let our notes resound, nor make us cease 

To bear our message of eternal peace, 
Till saints of earth, with angel-hosts on high, 
Take up, little sister, there, our song with glad accord, 
And through eternal ages sing, " Holiness to the Lord." 



" If there's a hole in a' your coats,, 

I rede ye tent it; 
A chiel's amang ye takin' notes, 

And, faith, he'll prent it." 


*OME fifteen or twenty years ago, the curiosity of 
the dwellers in every part of the forest, was 
exercised by the visits, at intervals, of a kindly, 
pleasant, enquiring visitor. At that time visitors there 
were few. He made his way to the remote farm-houses ; 
an old bank, or earthwork, was to him a special delight; 
the ancient halls and houses of the yeomen-foresters of 
the present, or bygone times, were carefully scanned, and 
their inhabitants questioned about their fore-elders, and 
about any old documents they possessed, likely to elucidate 
those mysteries of the past, to which the memories of the 
oldest could offer no clue. The parsons also received several 
visits'; the churches were objects of great attention ; and 
over those queer, old, parchment- covered books the 
parish registers it was said " he spent hours together." 

In spite of some native suspicion, the visitor made many 
friends. The clergy, and other intelligent inhabitants, were 
glad to see him, and to open their old oak desks and deed 
boxes, or parish registers, freely to his scrutiny. 

Soon interesting columns began to appear in the local 
newspapers. There were accounts given of old halls, and 
of worthy fore-elders, and descriptions of pleasant walks, 
and of charming nooks and corners in the forest, none of 
which had ever been written about before. 



The foresters discovered that they had a history : and 
that they, and their fathers, and their forest homes, had 
a place in the annals of the great county of York, and 
of England. Kings had even been visitors to the forest ; 
generals, and poets, and men of renown in literature, and 
other things, had really sprung from among themselves ! 

A few years later, and the writer of these things new 
and old, published them all in a book, which took its place 
among the best of the local histories of the county. 

This enquirer and writer was William Grainge the 
painstaking, worthy, and respected historian of the forest. 
Though not by birth " a forester," his great interest in, 
and love for, the forest ; the service he has done it by his 
admirable history, together with a residence for many 
years within its bounds, will plead for a forester claiming him 
as one of the most worthy of the brotherhood, and giving 
in these " Leaves " some account of him and of his works. 

For the following sketch of the early life of William 
Grainge, the writer is indebted to "The Biograph" for 
March, 1881 A.D. 

He was born on the 25th of January, 1818 A.D., and 
brought up on his father's farm, called Castiles, in the 
parish of Kirkby Malzeard, about, eight miles west of 
Ripon, just on the verge of the western moorlands. This 
farm had been in the possession of the family for nearly 
three centuries. William was the youngest survivor of 
several children. The place was quiet and lonely, the 
scenery around was beautiful, and some of it wild and 
romantic. The remains of an old British circle, or fort, 
were situated near the house, and the contemplation, of 
this mysterious series of earthworks and trenches, in his 
youthful days, may, in some measure, account for his early 
love for antiquarian pursuits. The school education he 
received was at Kirkby Malzeard ; it was merely rudi- 
mentary, and did not extend much beyond his twelfth 
year ; hence he may be classed among self-educated 
writers. From his youth he was remarkably fond of 
reading', and as soon as he had the opportunity of becoming 


acquainted with them, "Dove's English Classics" became 
his especial favourites ; being small pocket volumes they 
were well adapted for his purpose, and were his constant 
companions when at work for he shared in all the labours 
of His father's farm and at noon, or other times, while 
others rested or slept, he read. In his youth he was fond 
of rambling into wild and lonely places, where the hand of 
man had done nothing to mend, or mar, the beauties of 
nature. Alone he explored all the valleys, woods, glens, 
and ravines within half a dozen miles of his home, and 
thus acquired a love of wild natural scenery, geology, and 
botany, which has stuck to him through life. And, even 
yet, such rambles among woods, rocks, and wild flowers 
constitute one of his greatest enjoyments. At this early 
period he also attempted to write poetry, and produced 
verses on a great variety of subjects, some of which were 
accepted, and appeared in the newspapers of York and 
Leeds, but always without his name attached to them. 
He continued thus working, reading, rambling, and always 
learning, at the place of his early home, until the death of 
his father in 1845 A.D., when he removed to the neigh- 
bourhood of Boroughbridge, where he resided for the next 
fifteen years. 

Many of the following facts, and dates, respecting the 
numerous works he has published, are also from " The 

In 1853 A.D. Mr. T. S. Turner, bookseller, of Borough- 
bridge, published a most useful and interesting book of 
nearly 200 pages, entitled " The History of Aldborough 
and Boroughbridge," two of the most interesting towns, 
historically, in the north. No name appears as author, but 
the preface by the publisher, contains this passage : "In 
the attempt to supply the public with a complete history, 
within as narrow limits as possible, I have spared no labour 
and expense. In addition to my own attention to it, I 
have engaged the assistance of an individual of consider- 
able literary merit." This has been understood to refer to 
Mr. William Grainge, to whose pen, therefore, the history 


is due, and it is the earliest of his works which has come 
under the writer's attention. 

"The Battles and Battle Fields of Yorkshire" was 
published in 1854 A.D. It soon became a popular book, 
on a popular subject, and is now out of print. " The 
Castles and Abbeys of Yorkshire," a similar work, was 
published in 1856 A.D. Next, in 1859 A.D., appeared 
" The Vale of Mowbray, a Historical and Topographical 
account of Thirsk and the neighbourhood," a book of 
nearly 400 pages, into which is condensed a mass of 
information, greater than found in many books of double 
the size. It is admirably arranged, and pleasantly written. 
In 1863 A.D., published by Mr. Thorpe, of Pateley 
Bridge, appeared " Nidderdale," also a most valuable 
addition to local history and topography. "The Poets 
and Poetry of Yorkshire," in two volumes, was issued in 
1868 A.D., published at Wakefield. and dedicated to 
H.R.H. the Prince of Wales. In these tasteful volumes 
are included biographical notices of above two hundred 
and forty poets of the county, from Csedmon, who died 
in 680 A.D., down to the present time. These are 
preceded by a pleasantly written preface, and well chosen 
introductory extracts. Each poet's works are illustrated 
by admirably selected specimen pieces. 

At intervals between these works, Mr. Grainge sent to 
the press many pamphlets and tracts on kindred subjects, 
some of them of great interest. Such were the ' ; Guide 
to Harrogate," which has gone through many editions ; 
" A Memoir of Sir W. Slingsby " ; " A Short History of 
Knaresborough " ; " A Tract on the Geology of Harro- 
gate " ; " An Historical and Descriptive Account of 
Swinsty Hall," one of -the most interesting of the Old 
Halls of the Forest ; and, in conjunction with the late 
Mr. C. Forrest, " A Ramble among the antient British 
remains on Rombold's Moor." And also, about two years 
ago, appeared, published by Mr. R. Ackrill of Harrogate, 
" The Annals of a Yorkshire A.bbey," a popular and 
most useful history of Fountains Abbey. 


The work, however, which enlists a forester's attention, 
and which is the largest and most important that Mr. 
Grainge has given to the public, is the one alluded to 
before, viz., " The History and Topography of Harrogate 
and the Forest of Knaresborough." It was published by 
Mr. T. Thorpe of Pateley Bridge, in 1871 A.D., and is a 
large, well got up, and well written volume of over 500 
pages. Of this work and its author the following account 
is quoted from a discriminating reviewer, Mr. J. T. Beer, 
F.R.S.L. : 

" Mr. Win. Grainge of Harrogate, the well known author of 
several important works, * * * * has just published a very 
valuable addition to his former labours, in a History and Topogra- 
phy of Harrogate and the Forest of Knaresborough, a large and 
highly poetic district, abounding in scenes of sublimity and 
beauty ; and dusted over, as stars upon the black dome of heaven, 
with a countless host of those historic associations, which bind our 
hearts to the scenes of their enactment long ages after the events 
have passed away. * * * * 

Mr. Grainge had prepared himself, in a great measure by his 
publications, for this more complete and elaborate work, which 
upon every page displays evidences of erudition and laborious 
research, illustrating the geographical, poetical, and personal 
history of his chosen locality." (Wetherby News, March 12th, 1872.J 

No one acquainted with Mr. Grainge's writings, will be 
surprised to learn, that he possesses considerable poetical 
talent, though little of its fruits has been given to the 
public. The following specimen is one taken from many 
early productions of his pen, and has not before been 


What is happiness ? A dream ! exclaims the man 

Of high, and baffled hopes, ambition foiled, 
And mighty projects blasted. They may plan, 

Contrive, and think of happiness ; 'tis spoiled 
By some cross accident they cannot see ; 

And when they think they grasp it, it is gone, 
They know not how. A gleam upon a sea 

Of darkness ! a brain-born phantom ! which none 
But rmlearned boys and idiots strive for ! 


The simple minded tell a different tale, 
Of the mild power they in their hearts adore : 

They say she dwells in sweet sequestered vale, 
From courts and camps and cities far remote ; 

That virtue is her mother j labour her sire, 
Temperance her sister ; and her chief resort 

The vales and fountains ; not to aspire 
Her great ambition ; to bring her wishes down 

Equal to her wants ; in simple truth to speak 
Her will, she gains but wishes not renown, 

And that she is a goddess, mild and meek. 

Thus have I told what both my friends declare, 

Now take thy choice and seek her here or there." 

"The Widow's Lament," "The Chase of the Black 
Fox," and one or two other poetical pieces were contributed 
to Ingledew's Ballads, and Songs of Yorkshire, published 
in 1860 A.D. From the first mentioned the following 
stanzas are taken : 

"What, dost thou smile ? my darling child ! 
Thy heavy loss thou dost not know ! 
Thy mother's grief is frantic, wild, 
For oh, thy father moulders low ! 

" No more will he with kindly care, 
Caress thee fondly in his arms ; 
His loving kiss thou canst not share, 
Nor lisp to him thy vain alarms. 

" Forgive me, God ! I wished to die, 
When thou my babe so sweetly smiled ; 
For thee to live in hope I'll try, 
My comfort left, my darling cfiild ! " 

As conscious of its parent's woe, 
The artless inncfcent upsprung, 
Its arms around her neck to throw, 
While to her lips its kisses clung. 

Then love dissolved the mother's grief, 
What mother can desert her child ? 
A flood of tears now brought relief, 
And hope again (though faintly) smiled. 

Few, if any, living men have a more full and accurate 
knowledge of the biography, family history, poetry, super- 
stitions, legends, and folk-lore of the neighbourhood, than 


Mr. (Irainge. Among his many manuscripts is a copy of 
Fairfax's Dsemonology, and of the only two now existing 
fo Fairfax's Eclogues. These Mr. Grainge has annotated 
with notes personal, topographical and literary, of the 
greatest value. We hope the day may come when our 
Northern and Forest literature will be further enriched by 
their publication, and that the worthy annotater may long 
be spared, and encouraged, to interest and instruct his 
wide circle of readers, and friends, from the rich stores he 
has amassed, by long years of patient perseverance and 



;ROM frozen north, whence icy bleak winds blow, 
Gomes winter, in deathlike grasp to hold, 
Alike the valley, plain, and upland wold ! 
Now glitt'ring in her robe of virgin snow 
Earth keeps Sabbath ; idle lies the plough ; 
The birds are mute, flocks hurtle in the fold : 
Man hastens home before the biting cold, 
And closer nestles to his hearth's bright glow. 
O'er Nature's life hath breathed the chilling breath, 
And stiff and white it rests in sleep, as death. 
Yet death is but the gate of life, and sleep 
The slumbers that o'er wearied nature creep. 
Soon life will burst the bonds, in beauty rise, 
With strength renewed, beneath Spring's genial 



" Meek souls there are who little dream 
Their daily strife an Angel's theme, 
Or, that the rod they take so calm 
Shall prove in Heaven a martyr's palm. 

And there are souls that seem to dwell 
Above this earth, so rich a spell 
Floats round their steps, where'er they move, 
From hopes fulfill' d, and mutual love." 


caine upon the vision, 
A school-girl bright and fair 

childhood's mirth and prattle, 
And flowing flaxen hair. 

With joy and laughing* sunshine, 

She danced along the way, 
To parents and to schoolmates, 

The light of brightest day. 

The fairest flowers of Wharfedale, 
Where all are sweet and fair, 

Ne'er shed more joy and fragrance, 
Upon the balmy air, 

Than she, on all around her, 
Shed, e'en in gambols wild, 

The light, and joy, and sweetness, 
Of a bright and happy child. 


A maiden next we saw her, 

In all a maiden's prime ; 
As op'ning- rose, or lily, 

In early summer time. 

In form and mien, " a princess "* 

Among her youthful peers ; 
In thought and maiden graces, 

A girl beyond her years. 

Each day revealed new beauties 

New powers of soul and mind, 
Her presence brought the sweetness 

And balm of summer wind. 

The children gathered round her, 

To win her word, or smile ; 
For she their tears and sorrows, 

E'en deepest, could beguile. 

In school, or home, or household, 

Before her sadness fled ; 
Where'er she moved, the fragrance 

Of love and peace, was shed ; 

O'er parish, as the breezes, 

'Twas borne from door to door, 
It breathed in homes of plenty, 

And cottage of the poor. 

Where social duties called, 

And grace and wit were seen, 
In gentle calm and beauty, 

She reigned, uncrowned, a queen ; 

And held in gentlest thraldom, 

The hearts of old and young ; 
While on her youthful pathway 

Were choicest off 'rings flung. 

**#**# -x- 

* Genesis xvii 15 (Margin). 


Again the scene was changed, 
Chill, adverse winds had blown ; 

The flower which bloomed so sweetly, 
Amid their wreck was strown. 

In city's crowd and scramble, 
She raised her bowed head ; 

Then forth she went, still smiling, 
To win the daily bread. 

For others patient toiling, 
She knew no rest by day ; 

E'en failing health, and weakness, 
Could not her efforts stay. 

Through weary nights of suffering. 

She toss'd, in hope and fears, 
Still in her step shone brightness, 

And kindness through her tears. 

Then on through months of labour, 
Of hand, and heart, and brain, 

Till not longer wearied nature 
Could live, and bear the strain. 

The dart of death had struck her, 
Laid prostrate ev'ry power, 

As scythe, in its summer bloom, 
Strikes e'en the sweetest flower. 

The form that long unquestioned, 
In love its sceptre swayed, 

Now on a bed of suffering 
Unconscious, helpless, laid. 

The head that thought for others, 
And rose at ev'ry call, 

But ceased to think of kindness, 
When it ceased to think at all. 

The hand that toiled for others, 
No thought of gain or pelf, 

But ceased its weary labours ; 
When paralyzed itself. 


The heart that beat for others, 

Drew love with ev'ry breath, 
But ceased to shed its love-glow, 

When chill'd by cold of death. 

The end ! It canie, and found her 

A meek and heavenly child,* 
When angel-arms were closing, 

She held up hers, and smiled. 

The end ! No less a martyr's 

Though met in peace, at home, 
Than theirs who died in tortures, 

For holy faith at Rome ! 

The end ! No less a martyr's, 

Nor with less Constance borne, 
Than theirs of old, whose limbs were 

By tyrant's wild beasts torn ! 

While yet her day was shining, 

The sun went down in love ; 
But light that waned ere noon-tide, 

Must brighter shine above. 

And now she rests ; the faithful, 

Her work of love, " Well done," 
Through blood of Him who bought her, 

Her crown of life is won. 

The flower, which bloomed so briefly, 

Crushed in the Father's hand, 
Has left e'en a richer fragrance 

In this, the mourners', land. 

* St. Matthew xviii., 3. 



|HILE these Lays and Leaves have been passing 
under the pen of the writer, the poetic muse has 
again awoke in the Forest. 

Transplanted, in 1873 by the present Prime Minister, 
the Right Honourable W. E. Gladstone, from the 
hot-bed of busy life, the great metropolis, (St. Peter's 
Chapel, Vere Street) to the remote but pretty Vicarage of 
Fewston, the Rev. John Marks Ashley B.C.L., has become 
one of the Forest worthies, and added no little to its fame 
in the field of learning and literature. His many published 
works had before this period stamped him, " a scholar, a 
ripe and good one," in fields of Mediaeval Theology, and of 
classical and patristic lore. 

The following is merely a list of such works : " The 
Relations of Science," 1855 ; " The Victory of the Spirit," 
1865 ; " Thirteen Sermons from the Quaresimale of Quirico 
Rossi," 1868 ; " The preparation for Death, from the 
Italian, 1868. A Commentary on the Epistle to the Ephe- 
sians of Thomas Aquinas " ; " The spiritual exercises of 
St. Ignatius," 1869 ; " Dominical and Festival Homilies 
of St. Thomas Aquinas," 2 Ed. 1873 ; " A year with Great 
Preachers," 2 vols. 1872 ; "A Festival Year with Great 
Preachers," 1873 ; " Eucharistic Sermons by Great Preachers, 
1873 ; " A Promptuary, for Preachers," 2 vols. 8vo., 
1876 ; " St. Augustine, the Preacher," 1877 ; " Origen, 
the Preacher," 1878 ; " Studies from Dante," now 
publishing in " The Churchman's Shilling Magazine," 
and many original essays in " The Union Review," 


' ' The Ecclesiastic " and other Journals. The Homilies 
of St. Thomas Aquinas and " The Promptuary " have had 
a very extensive sale. 

But it is under the inspiring breezes, and beauties, of the 
forest valley, that the muse has awakened the sweet notes 
within, and stirred him to enrich the forest literature with 
the songs of his rural retirement. 

Already he has published " Lisa," " The Burial of 
Polynices," both classical poems of much beauty. " The 
Battle of Senlac and other Poems " (in 1880), an 8vo. vol. of 
175 pages ; besides a large number of poetical pieces of 
merit, including many Hymns, in several local, and other, 

The following on local objects, or suggested by them, 
are selected as the most suitable specimens of his muse for 
reproduction here : 

The churchyard lay on hilly slope, 

High on the sunny side ; 
Below it spread the bright green fields, 
And lake extending wide. 

It was a summer's afternoon, 

And balmy was the air ; 
When seated on a little grave 

Was mourning maiden fair. 

She sat and plucked some blades of grass, 

Torn off the tiny grave ; 
Among her treasures sacredly 

These lovingly to save. 

On a like sunny afternoon, 

Some months before, in spring, 
Around that self -same grave she stood 

In sorrow worshipping ; 

Which then was opened to receive 

A younger sister, whom 
The Master called, -a lovely plant, 

In paradise to blooni. 

She now had come some spoil to take, 

Some relic from the ground, 
In which her little sister had 

A place of resting found. 


With brightened blush and tear-gemmed eye, 

She trembling mention made 
Of one, whose little body lay 

In that small quiet grave. 

"Whilst health and youth and beauty graced 

The maiden who survived, 
The other girl was fcod for worms, 

The little one who died. 

Scanned by the eye of sense alone, 

Who can their lots compare ? 
Viewed by the eye of faith, to change 

Their portions, who would dare ? 
The dead child lives an angel's life, 

An angel now in light ; 
Removed from every earthly taint, 

With spirit ever bright. 

The living child has yet to die, 
To pass through Sorrow's reign; 

To learn by this world's discipline 
The sacrament of pain. 

For her whom God hath taken first, 

Thanksgiving we outpour ; 
For her who has to follow her, 

We pray for evermore. 


Norwood Crag, on the Farnley Estate, is situated two miles 
8.E. of Fewston. 

On Norwood Crag I stood one winter's day ; 

A noble panorama round me lay ; 

The lovely vale of Washburn just below, 

Flanked by the hills through which Wharf e's waters flow, 

The Colder moors appeared beyond the rest, 

With grey old Pendle at the further West : 

Then Simon's Seat, the Pock Stones and Greenhow, 

And the Great Whernside glittering with snow. 

Next came the Brimham Rocks, whose boulders grand, 

As if upheaved by some vast Titan hand ; 

Which blended into Sawley's dark firs' shade, 

To which How Hill a pleasant contrast made. 

The Hills of Hambleton across the plain, 

Point to a fertile country, rich in grain : 

Studded with many churches here and there, 

Unlike the western view so bold and bare. 


By Harlow Hill the eye its way can wend, 

Past Harrogate and Knaresborough to spend 

Its gaze upon a mass against the sky, 

Which is York's mighty Minster towering high. 

More toward the East, by Harewood's lordly home, 

Back to the Wharfe and Chevin then we come. 

The leading objects these of that fine sight, 

Opening from every side on Norwood's height. 

Perchance all England might be searched through, 

For spot from which to gain like varied view. 

I love full oft to climb that rocky hill, 

And with its prospect sweet my soul to fill ; 

It ever teaches me some lesson true, 

Again I come, that I may learn anew. 

This winter's day, all sunshine, was so clear, 

That distant hills and moors seemed very near; 

From peak and mound on which the sun could play, 

The pure white snow had melted quite away ; 

But in the small ravines and little nooks, 

And in the beds of sometime running brooks 

It lay ; and every hollow bathed in light, 

Whilst unknown dells afar came into sight ; 

Their purity, made lowly places plain, 

They caught the eye, as white without a stain. 

So holiness in thought and word and deed, 

Exalts the humble when in sorest need ; 

They cannot murmur e'en when brought most low, 

If grace their hearts has whitened like the snow. 


(The Phenomenon which suggested the following lines was seen at the 
Brandrith Crags on North Moor, a part of Lord Walsingham's Estate 
of Blubberhouses, one February morning.) 

The Moor was draped with snow, 

Still was the air ; 
The sun peeped forth at intervals, 

Now here, now there. 

From Brandrith's high and hoary crags, 

The view stretched out, 
O'er moorland hills and rocky peaks, 

Dotted about. 

Far southward, hidden by the hills, 

Great work-towns lie ; 
And from their myriad shafts ascends 

The smoke on high. 


The smoke-cloud lighted by the sun, 

Up into sight 
Arose above the moorland ridge, 

One mass of light : 

A contrast to the sombre moor, 

Silent and cold ; 
Eegion of solitude profound, 

Eocky and bold. 

The Spirit of the place came by, 

And thus she spake ; 
" From yonder golden cloud do thou 
Thy lesson take. 

" Its birth-place tells of dirt and toil, 

And of the care, 

Which wears men's souls and bodies out, 
As hard to bear. 

" Type of the life the Spirit lives, 

The whilst on earth, 
It cleaveth to the lowly place, 
Which gave it birth ; 

" And of its future glory, when 

It mounts on high, 
To where the Sun of Eighteousness, 
Is very nigh. 

" From former sin and sorrow freed, 

Without one stain, 
To indicate the lowly place, 
From whence it came ; 

" To shine as doth this cloud to-day, 

By borrowed light ; 
And be, like it, to others then 
A great delight." 

The Spirit ceased ; mist veiled the sun, 

The curtain fell 
On sight and sound, yet left a thought 

On which to dwell. 

The reader, it is felt, will unite with the present writer 
in thanks to the author of these poetic thoughts and 
sketches, for the permission, kindly given, to enrich 
" Forest Lays and Leaves " by their insertion. 



"Washbrook with her wealth her mistress doth supply." 

Dray ton. 

jROM its home in the heathery moorland's dark earth, 
:> Where the curlew and moorcock alone hail its birth, 
^O'er pebbles and sand, bright with sparkle and mirth, 
Like an infant at play, 
The burn takes its way. 

Where the fern is unfolding its delicate green, 
'Neath the root and the rock, where the ouzel is seen, 
And quick darting trout glint in silvery sheen, 
It dances in May 
Through the livelong day. 

With the notes of the throstle, by marital bush, 
Or, the lark's when uprising at' morning's first blush, 
Or the coo of the cushat in evening's quiet hush, 

Low, dulcet, or strong, 

It mingles its song. 

Where the celandine gleams in its vesture of gold, 
Or, the meek marguerite, in numbers untold, 
Gems the meadows, and upland, and whin-crested wold, 

Their beauties among, 

It hurries along. 



'Tween its moss- covered banks where primroses grow, 
Through Bluber's dark woods where the hyacinths blow, 
By hedge-rows where violets hide, meekly, and low, 

O'er gravel and loams, 

It ripples and foams. 

Where the blossoms of spring-time yet hang on the trees, 
And the air is resonant with humming of bees, 
And the scent of the hawthorn still ladens the breeze, 

By sweet rural homes 

It wanders and roams. 

Through low-lying pastures, where lambs are at play, 
Through dells and green woodlands, with life on each spray, 
Where maidens and youths are gathering the " May," 

In kerchief and scarf, 

By coppice and barf, 

By the fields where husbandmen scatter the seed, 
By cottage and farm, with neither riches nor need, 
It murmurs along, nought its course to impede, 

Till, a wand'ring dwarf, 

'Tis lost in the Wharf. 

So our spring-time of life, flows on in young glee, 
Now it sings with the lark, now works with the bee, 
'Mid flowers it glides, ever joyous and free, 

O'er rosebuds and thyme, 

To manhood's short prime. 

And, thus, onward it hurries, by sorrow uncrossed, 
Through sunshine, unmindful of winter's dark frost, 
'Till the bright days are gone, and for ever 'tis lost, 

As a long ago chime, 

In the ocean of time. 



The bleak winds of autumn sweep o'er the wild moor 
'Mong the weird rocks of Brandrith they whistle and roar, 
While black tempest-clouds their contents down-pour, 

On heather and fern, 

And home of the hern. 


And black is the crown upon Lypersley Pike, 
And turbid the waters in brown G-reenay Sike, 
As onward they foam, through brocket and dike, 

An impetuous burn 

Which nothing may turn. 

Down rough moorland channels pour torrents, not rills 
They jump from the rocks and leap from the hills, 
And, foaming and fretting, they dash through the gills 

Thus starts, loud and hoarse, 

The burn from its source. 

An imperious giant, its wrath knows no bounds, 
As it sweeps o'er the hillocks, and levels the mounds 
And deep scars re-echo its thunder-like sounds. 

Irresistibly force, 

Desolation its course. 

Man's puny works are swept off, as in scorn, 
The monarchs of forest from firm roots are torn, 
And downward, as straws on its billows, are borne. 

By farmstead they flee, 

O'er meadow and lea. 

Onward it goes, strewing with wreckage its way, 
In anger and foam, .with spoil and with spray, 
It bears death on its waves thro' the brief autumn day, 

Till harmless they break, 

Engulfed in the lake. 

So dark clouds of passion, when they fall on the brow, 
In torrents downpour, till irresistible they flow, 
With destruction and grief their stream-bed to strow. 

No appeal they vouchsafe, 

But leave many a waif. 

Till their powers to destroy and ravish are spent, 
By Infinite Power robbed of evil intent, 
And in the ocean of good effectually blent, 

No longer to chafe, 

The heaven-kept-safe. 





" Full many a gem of purest ray serene, 

The dark, unfathom'd caves of ocean bear; 
Full many a flower is born to blush unseen, 
And waste its sweetness on the desert air." 


IjROM twenty-five to thirty years ago there were 
few young men, in the town of Otley, better 
known, or "more respected, than John William 

He was the son of very worthy and respectable parents, 
though in humble circumstances of life. His health was, 
from his earliest years, so delicate as to preclude him from 
following continuously any handicraft occupation, though 
occasionally whenever able he assisted his father, in his 
trade of a shoemaker. He was a devoted Sunday School 
teacher in the Church schools, and a young man of earnest 
Christian life. 

When the writer first knew him, about the year 1852 
A.D., he was from 18 to 19 years of age, and acting as an 
assistant teacher at the National School at Otley, receiving, 
in return for his daily work in the school, tuition from the 
head master in Latin, and kindred subjects, after the day's 
duties at the school were over. 

At the evening classes, held at the Mechanics' Institute, 
during the winter months, he was a regular attendant, 
especially at the Drawing and Arts Class, first as pupil and 
then as teacher. 


With his pencil and brush he became very proficient, 
and several of his productions are still to be found in the 

His favourite pursuit, however, was Natural History, and 
particularly the branches of Entomology and Botany. To 
the study of these he was devoted, heart and soul. Little 
knowledge did he gain of them from books, for he had 
neither the means nor the opportunities to seek it, chiefly, 
there. His library was the open fields, lanes, and woods of 
the neighbourhood, with the blue roof of the heavens over 
his head, and the living objects themselves spread before 

In the early morning, or as long as light lingered in the 
evening, his delicate form, somewhat stooping from phy- 
sical weakness, with thin, intelligent countenance, and 
quick, observant eye, might almost daily have been seen 
searching by the woods of Farnley or Danfield, in the 
green lanes towards Weston or Newall, climbing the 
Chevin, or wandering, or sitting, among the rocks of Caley 
in quest of the objects of his devotion. Here he was 
tracking out and noting some interesting operation of 
nature, watching the habits or the transformations of his 
favourite insects, or there he was collecting some rare or 
new specimen of insect or plant for preservation and study 
at home. 

His love for all the works of God was intense, and he 
had an eye to note them wherever he went. The writer 
once heard him quote with an emphasis and feeling not 
easily forgotten, the beautiful words of Cowper : 

" I would not enter on my list of friends 
(Though graced with polish'd manners and fine sense, 
Yet wanting sensibility) the man 
Who needlessly sets foot upon a worm. 
An inadvertent step may crush a snail 
That crawls at evening in the public path ; 
But he that has humanity, forewarn' d, 
Will tread aside, and let the reptile live." 

There was scarcely an insect, certainly no ordinary one, 
belonging to the district for miles around Otley, which he 


did not know ichere to find, and wlien to find, in its larval, 
or chrysalis, or perfect state. It was the same with the 
plants and shrubs, but more especially with the wild 
flowers of the neighbourhood. Each one was a friend 
whose nature, and habits, and habitat were well known, 
and whose annual return, or mutation, he would sometimes 
walk miles to greet and enjoy. 

Having sisters married, and residing at Markington near 
Eipon, and Fewston in the forest of Knaresborough, he 
made occasional visits to these places, and greatly enjoyed 
the opportunities, such visits afforded him, of extending his 
researches and knowledge beyond the immediate vicinity 
of his native town. 

It is to be regretted that he kept no systematic record 
of his observations. His diary, however (though with 
many gaps, and for long intervals), for the years 1852 7 
A.D. inclusive, enables some idea of his researches and 
observations to be given, by quotations, in his own words. 

First a few general quotations are taken as showing 
his habits of observation, and his love for, and appreciation 
of, the objects and phenomena of nature around him. 

" 1852 A.D., Feb. 29. The Aurora Borealis has made its appear- 
ance five times this month. On Thursday night it was most splen- 
did. It illuminated the whole heavens to a degree which has not 
been seen for many years. About 9 p.m. three arches appeared 

stretching from east to west Streamers were sent up 

towards the zenith, forming and disappearing with every variety 
of colour mingled with flashes of red and yellow. At midnight the 
heavens glowed with a radiance I never saw before." 

" 1854 A.D., Feb. 25. While I was out rambling to-day, I gathered 
a few spring flowers which were peeping just above the ground, the 
long grass almost hiding their shining petals, but sheltering them 
from the chilling blasts of the wind of this season. The flowers 
which formed my posey were as follows : a few field daisies, a 
garden daisy, a buttercup, a few primroses, and a few snowdrops. 
A choice collection at this early time of the year." 

" Sunday, 26 (July, 1857 A.D.). At Fewston took a stroll in the 
afternoon through the churchyard. There I read the following 
epitaphs. The first on a stone recording the deaths of three young 
children : 


" ' I see you in your beauty ; 

With your waving hair at rest, 
And your busy little fingers 
Folded lightly on your breast ; 

" ' But your merry dance is over, 
And your little race is run, 
And the mirror that reflected there 
Now tells the three are gone.' 

" Another one was as follows : 

' So teach us, Lord, the uncertain sum 

Of our short days to mind, 
That to true wisdom all our hearts 
May ever be inclined.' " 

" Monday, 27 (July). During my rambling this morning, I had 
the good fortune to find another Admiral Caterpillar (larva of the 
Admiral Butterfly) near Cragg Hall, Fewston. This makes up a 
pair. In the evening I got some caterpillars of the beautiful 
Vapourer Moth in Mr. Gwyther's garden." 

"Wednesday, 9 (Sept. 1877 A.D.). Walked to Bolton for the 
purpose of sketching the abbey. Day fine but almost intolerably 
hot. I took a pencil sketch of the abbey, and on my way home (to 
his sister's, near Fewston) I took a water-colour sketch of Kexgill, 
a rnoit romantic "gill" or dale, with Brandreth range of Crags 
above it, and a logan stone of great size, where ravens build in the 
cracks and holes, hence sometimes named Eaven Crag. This glen 
is situated about half a mile west of Blubberhouses, and the Skip- 
ton road skirts the south side of it, from which a good view of the 
wild, romantic scenery, peculiar to this part of the country, may 
be obtained." 

"Monday, 14 (Sept. 1877 A.D.). Visited the Holbeck Entomolo- 
gical Society's Exhibition, held in the National Schoolroom there. 
I was greatly interested with the great variety of British insects, 
collected and displayed in tasteful designs in large handsome cases 
by working men. I am glad to see that so many of our working 
classes are making groat progress in the advancement of Natural 
Science and Art. What is here set forth is an example of what 
can be acquired by patience and industry and the cultivation of 
taste. There were also a beautiful collection of cured birds 
British and foreign and a good selection of paintings, both ancient 
and modern . . . and also a quantity of valuable photographs." 

These extracts surely show a habit, and power of obser- 
vation, and a tone of thought and feeling-, in a young 1 man 


in J. W. Brown's position, and with his disadvantages, 
most admirable, and worthy to be held up as incentives and 
examples to all classes of readers. 

One of his special pursuits was Entomology. 

In the summer of 1855 A.D. the writer was with him on 
the occasion of a visit to Morecambe, then a very primitive 
sea-side resort, and he will never forget the delight and 
enthusiasm of the young entomologist at the discovery, 
fluttering amongst the flowers on the beach there, of a 
number of butterflies of a kind entirely new to him ! He 
was not content with securing as many specimens of the 
insects as he required for his collection, but hour after 
hour, on day after day, was spent in endeavour to discover 
the larvae, the plants they fed upon, specimens in the pupa 
state, &c. In one of his diaries there are the following 
remarks upon entomology generally : 

" Few persons can fail to be struck with the beauty and variety 
of insects, especially those of the butterfly tribe, and yet how many 
are ignorant of the different stages of existence they undergo, and 
their close analogy to the immortality of the soul. Nearly every- 
body regards the caterpillar as one of the greatest pests of the 
garden, and yet without it we should have none of those lovely 
butterflies which so often cross our paths in our summer walks. 
We first meet with a crawling caterpillar with sixteen feet, 
devouring everything in the shape of vegetables, until it becomes 
full grown. It then descends into the earth, making for itself a 
tomb, and there undergoes a change into the chrysalis or pupa 
state resembling the case of a mummy ; there it remains a month 
or longer, and then finally bursts forth a glorious creature perfect 
in all its parts, its whole time soaring aloft through the air o'er 
verdant meads, to sport and revel amid beautiful flowers, and 
extract their sweets." 

In the diary, under the date " April 25, 1866 A.D.," 
occurs the following entry, showing his mode of observation : 

" Saw a nettle tortoiseshell butterfly laying its eggs on the under 
side of the leaf of a nettle. Before it had finished I disturbed it 
and it flew away. I took the leaf with me with the eggs on it, for 
the purpose of watching them through all their stages." 

"May 12, 1859 A.D. A warm south-east breeze and the sun 
shining ! All nature rejoicing ! The cry of cuckoo ! cuckoo ! 


resounds from the woods on Chevin side. Hornet wasps are at 
work on the pales and hedges, busily collecting wood for their 
nests. They gnaw it with their horny mandibles, roll it up under 
their feet about the size and shape of a pellet, then fly off with it 
to their nests. They also search among the leaves of hedges and 
trees for caterpillars and small moths, which they roll up in the 
same way as they do the wood, and carry them also to their nests, 
for what purpose I have not yet been able to ascertain. Perhaps 
to feed their larvae with. They cut off the wings of the moths and 
roll up only the body " 

"June 13. Whit Monday, 1859 A.D. On some hazel leaves 
which I got in the hedge of our garden this evening, to feed my 
caterpillars with, I found a very pretty larva thereon. The colour 
was green, with white stripes down the back and along the sides, 
dotted with small black spots, and covered with very short hairs ; 
colour of the head, green." 

" June 23. The caterpillar which I found in our garden feeding 
on the hazel, on Whit Monday, has this day spun a white silken 
cocoon between the hazel leaves, and is about to undergo the 
change into the pupa state." 

" July 21st. A moth, which is a fresh kind to me, has come out 
of the pupa this morning, produced from the caterpillar which I 
found on the hazel in our garden on Whit Monday evening. Colour 
of the moth : upper wings, greenish grey, marked faintly, almost 
like the Angle shade-moth ; under wings, golden ochreous yellow. 
The pupa was of a purple colour, enclosed in a white silken cocoon 
between two hazel leaves, on which the caterpillar fed." 

Such entries as these, showing minute and painstaking 
observations, might be multiplied to almost any number. 
The extent to which these observations were pursued may 
be gathered, in some measure, from the following inventory 
of the specimens, all reared or caught with his own hand, 
which were in J. W. Brown's possession in March, 1856 

A.D. : 


Case No. I. contains 71 Moths and Butterflies. 
No. II. 51 
No. III. 54 
No. IV. 266 
No. V. 122 
No. VI. 46 
No. VII. 149 Beetles, Flies, &c. 
Total 761 specimens. 


These include 61 varieties of moths, 53 of which are nocturnal 
and 8 diurnal. 

Three varieties of sphinxes all nocturnal: and 15 varieties 
of butterflies. 

Case No. VII. contains 7 insects of the class Neuroptera ; 17 
of the class Diptera ; 19 of the class Hymenoptera ; 20 of the class 
Coleoptera; 87 of the class Orthoptera. 

" These have all been collected by myself in the neighbourhoods 
of Otley and Fewston, in Yorkshire, and Morecambe Bay, in 
Lancashire. " J. W. BROWN." 

Probably the most valuable, because the most systematic, 
notes penned by J. W. Brown, relate to the Botany of that 
portion of Wharfedale in which Otley is situated. The 
small MS. book containing them bears the title, " Natural 
History of Otley," and is in the possession of its author's 
brother, still residing there, and himself no tyro in ento- 
mology. The author no doubt intended, had life and 
health been spared him, to include in the notes a full 
account of the natural history of the neighbourhood ; but 
as it is, it is a mere fragment of that extensive subject, and 
embraces only a portion of the botany, viz., the wild 
flowers, mosses and lichens. 

In some preliminary remarks, the field of his researches 
in this subject is thus described : 

" At no great depth from the surface of the soil on Chevin, lies a 
series of rocks of millstone grit formation, which in many places 
appear above the surface in the form of huge crags. One of these, 
which bears the name of Pelstone Crag, is celebrated as affording 
one of the finest panoramic views of the valley with its numerous 
mansions, its shady woods, and its beautiful clear river 
gracefully wending its course through the verdant fields. 
There is another large crag in the deer park (Caley), named 
Middle Crag, &c. . . . There are also many other interesting 
rocks on the Chevin, most of which are in the woods on the sides of 
the steep declivities ; many are overgrown with beautiful varieties 
of mosses and lichen worthy of the botanist's notice." 

And again, upon the subject on which he writes, he 
says : 

" Our valley is rich in the treasures of flora. On woodland and 
moor, in fields, by the river's bank and beneath the hedgerow's 
shade, are scattered in rich and varied profusion those lovely 


flowers indigenous to our soil, and which are such a source of 
admiration and pleasure in our country rambles. In all the above 
situations, at the different seasons of the year, the botanist may 
always find abundance of wild flowers from which to select suitable 
and beautiful specimens for his herbarium. Botany is ever an 
interesting branch of natural history, and the collecting of plants 
for study forms a very pleasing and entertaining amusement 
during the hours of leisure and recreation. If we examine the 
structure of flowers, and consider the uses to which many of them 
are applied, we are at once led to admire and adore the wisdom and 
goodness of Him who had created them and all things, for our 
enjoyment and use. The beauty of form and colour with which 
many flowers are arrayed, delights the eye and calls to mind the 
beautiful words of our Saviour, ' Consider the lilies of the field, 
how they grow; they toil not, neither do they spin : and yet, I say 
unto you, that even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like 
one of these." 

As to the form into which his wide general and local 
knowledge has been thrown in these notes, the following- 
extracts will serve as examples. 

"THE VIOLET. (Viola Odorata.) . 

" This lovely flower may be found on hedge-banks, partly hidden 
among the herbage, where its small blue flowers scent the air 
around. White violets also grow in the same situations. Both 
kinds flower in March and are plentiful in the fields and lanes of 
our neighbourhood. Those persons who are unacquainted with the 
localities, will be able to find them on the southern banks of 
Weston Lane, Farnley Lane, and in the fields on both sides of 
these lanes, also in Pool Eoad and in Caley Fields." 

" The violet belongs to the class Pentandria ; order Nonogynia. 
' The violet in the greenwood bower, 

Where birchen boughs with hazel mingle, 
May boast herself the fairest flower, 
In glen, or copse, or forest dingle.' " 

" CROSS-WORT. (Galium Cruciatum.) 

" Class Tetrandriai Order Monogynia. This is a little plant with 
small yellow flowers, and leaves disposed round the stem in the 
form of a cross, hence its name. It appears in flower in May, on 
hedge-banks, in Curtis' s gardens, Caley Fields, Farnley Lane, and 
near the mill-dam stones." 

" ST. JOHN'S WORT. (Hypericum Perforatum.) 
"Class Polyadelphia ; Order Polyandria. This plant may be 
found in tolerable abundance on the river's bank, by the sides of 
ditches, in Caley Fields" and Bush Lane, in August. Its leaves 


are full of little holes, which are only seen when held up to the 
light, hence its name ' Perforated St. John's Wort.' The flowers 
are yellow, and in clusters on the stem." 

After this manner the manuscript contains descriptions 
of the plant, the flower, the time of flowering, the place in 
which it is to be found, with, here and there, interesting 
associations or remarks on about eighty species of wild 
flowers. Also similar accounts of six species of ferns, six 
of mosses, and ten of lichen, are given, all of which are to 
be found around Otley. Several of these are illustrated by 
extremely accurate and tasteful water-colour drawings. 

" The plants thus d?scribed," again writes the author, " form 
but a very small portion of the numerous species which flourish in, 
and deck with their varied beauties, every open field and wood, and 
heath and hedge of one of the most lovely and fertile valleys of 
Great Britain. In the study of a little of its botany the writer has 
spent very many pleasant hours, and in rambles, with companions 
interested in the same pursuits, and often alone, to the objects of 
search. Some of the results are here noted, and, though only 
small, will, it is hoped, lead others into the path of this most 
interesting branch of natural history, from which they will derive 
no small amount of pleasure and instruction. The book of nature 
is ever open to all ; and let those who desire to peruse its countless 
pages, go forth into the fields, and there, with the blue canopy of 
heaven above them, and the green sod, smiling with flowers of 
every hue, beneath their feet, and surrounded by all that is lovely 
and grand in nature, let them study and admire the glorious works 
of the all- wise Creatrr; and let them exclaim with the inspired 
psalmist, ' O Lord, how manifold are Thy works ! In wisdom hast 
Thou made them all ! The earth is full of Thy riches ! ' " 

In studies and recreations, such as these, did the youth 
of precarious health, and strength, spend the hours and 
days in which he was precluded from the labour by which 
the family bread was won. The date, at which the 
manuscript on botany was compiled, does not appear upon 
the face of the book itself, but, from certain indications, it 
was probably written about the year 1853 A.D. or 1854 
A.D., when its writer would be from 20 to 21 years of age. 

During the last few years of his life, J. W. Brown was, 
in a great measure, denied even his favourite studies. The 


gradual failure of already delicate health, with corres- 
ponding decrease of bodily strength, interfered with the 
active pursuit of them, and precluded him from the long 
walks and rambles of former years. Numerous friends, 
however, and sympathizers, to whom his tastes were 
known, continued to bring to him whatever objects or 
curiosities in nature they found, that were likely to be 
new to him, or worthy of his interest. Among other 
things thus conveyed to him, I find mention in his diary 
of the larva of a rare sphinx moth sent, to him, in 
August, 1856 A.D., by the late Henry Brown, Esq., then 
Mayor of Bradford a relative- 

In William Duckworth, M.D., a near neighbour, he ever 
found a kind, liberal, and judicious friend, in whose 
possession are some of his best sketches and paintings. 

In the summer of 1859 A.D. the end was clearly 
drawing on. His passion, however, was strong even to 
the last. On the 15th of July, in that year, when it had 
become no longer desirable that he should go out alone, 
there is the following suggestive entry in the diary : 

" Mother, myself, and William B. took a walk as far as Hell-hole 
Gill, for the purpose of getting some six spotted Burnet moths in 
a dry hilly pasture there, on the right-hand side of the road going 
towards Shipley. Being afflicted with an affection of the heart and 
lungs, I was not able to pursue the moths, and only caught a pair 
which flew close to me. B. kindly gave me some good specimens 
out of the number which he caught. They looked exceedingly 
pretty as they ever and anon darted through the air, or alighted 
on the pink flowers of the betony, displaying their bright scarlet 

wings ; and were very numerous We returned home 

both pleased and refreshed with our out, the day being a fine one, 
with a mild western breeze." 

By a remarkable coincidence the two last entries, made 
by the poor young enthusiast in his diary, seem as if 
entirely prophetic of his own approaching end. 

" August 4 (1859 A.D.). This morning the last of my Poplar 
caterpillars, reared from the egg, has gone into the earth to undergo 
the change into the chrysalis state." 

" August 5. My brother's Eyed Hawk caterpillar has descended 
into the earth to undergo the change into the pupa state," 


On the 19th of the same month (August, 1859 A.D.) he 
entered into rest, at the age of twenty-five years. Three 
days afterwards the mortal remains were laid in the earth 
in the full hope of a bright and glorious resurrection. 

Had life been spared to him, and health given him, in 
all probability his name would have found a place in the 
proud list of " the worthies " of his native county. Ought 
it not to find a place in that honourable list as it is ? He 
certainly gathered more knowledge of his native vale than 
men usually acquire in a lifetime ; and, at least, he demon- 
strated what might be done in a short life, and under the 
most adverse circumstances, by industry and perseverance. 
Making allowance for the difference in age, in education, 
in general circumstances and advantages, the extracts 
which have been given can scarcely fail to call to mind the 
popular naturalist of the South the gentle, devout Gilbert 
White. And, even under all disadvantages, had not the 
hand of death intervened, one is inclined to ask ' Might 
not Otley, in the beautiful valley of the Wharf, have 
become a Selborne of the North ? 




" A simple child, 
That lightly draws its breath, 
That feels its life in every limb, 
What should it know of death ?" 


gHE sun was quickly hast'ning down, 

O'er Roggan's heath-clad brow, 
5>The western sky was blushing deep, 

In his departing glow ; 
The cooling breeze that fans the cheek, 

With freshness from the lake, 
Just breathed enough, among the trees, 
To make the aspen shake. 

The Washburn slowly murmured on, 

'Mong rocks in leafy dell, 
Then o'er the bye-wash, 'neath the trees, 

In silvery splashes fell ; 
No sound but these disturbed the hush 

Of evening's gentle sough, 
Save from the Gill, or Lane Ends Wood, 

Came cushat's softest coo. 


Three youthful sisters, happy, fair, 

Blithe as the birds of May, 
In blush of waking girlhood's life, 

Through forest groves did stray. 
A youth their sole companion was, 

A neighbour's son was he, 
Their childhood's friend and playmate oft, 

The sharer in their glee. 

With careless steps they sauntered on, 

Where grow the tow'ring pine, 
Or, ling'ring, stood where roses sweet, 

Their arches wildly twine. 
And flowers, that meek in pathway bloom, 

Bedeck'd the velvet sod, 
While foxglove tall, and waving fern, 

O'erhung the path they trod. 

The dancing wavelets on the lake, 

In sunset's golden ray, 
Now soft in shade, now bright in gleam, 

Were not more bright than they, 
As through the glades their ringing laugh, 

The breeze now bore along ; 
Then, soft and sweet, as distant lute, 

Their notes of evening song. 

A rustic seat, but newly made, 

Stood 'neath a spreading lime, 
And there they paused to rest awhile, 

At the hour of curfew's chime. 
The soothing calm, which breathed around, 

O'er buoyant spirits fell ; 
Some time in silent thought they sat, 

None cared to break the spell. 

At length the youth address'd the one, 

More pensive than the rest, 
" Dear Coz, your thought pray tell us, 

We know it is the best ? " 


She slowly raised the drooping fringe, 

Of a dark and thoughtful eye, 
Her look ! it stopp'd the rising smile, 

Though scarcely knew they why. 

" The thought you ask to know," she said, 

" But ill befits your glee, 
0, why, upon this evening sweet, 

Should it have come to me ? 
Is it some angel's voice that speaks 

In this still, tranquil, hour ? 
Or, is't some evil portent's hand 

That casts its shade before ? 

" Ten years have passed while children here, 

In wood, and field, we've played, 
Ten summers, morn, and noon, and night, 

By stream and lake we've strayed, 
The tale of happy hours is told 

By every path and glen, 
When thrice ten years have come and gone, 

Oh, where shall we be then ? " 

The words so guileless and so frank, 

Scarce on her lips had died, 
When one, the youngest, yet a child 

With childlike haste replied ; 
" Where shall we be ? at home, of course, 

Or, (this with mirthful eye), 
Perhaps Anna at yon old grey house, 

And you, very nigh ! " 

" Ho, Ho, you forward sister mine! 

Who taught you that to say ? 
Retract ! retract ! Away ! away ! 

Or you a forfeit pay ! " 
Then 'mong the dewy grass and flowers. 

Began a merry chase, 
But e'en their youthful, flying, steps, 

Soon flagged in that race. 


As from a bow at venture drawn, 

Its goal to archer dark, 
The arrow, quiv'ring through the air, 

Unerring strikes its mark ; 
So then a chord, at random struck, 

Vibrated in each breast, 
The words in each an echo found, 

That marr'd the girlish jest. 

Yet part in jest, in earnest part, 

The youth thus made reply, 
" Oh, we can set the doubt at rest, 

When th' years are passed by, 
Beneath this tree we then will meet, 

Where'er we scattered be." 
They part in jest, in earnest part, 

To the fair tryst agree. 

'Mid sobered thought, and kindly words, 

They whil'd the hours away, 
And spake of schemes, and hopes, and joys, 

For many a coming day. 
Thus long, till waning light was gone, 

They sat in converse sweet, 
And stars were sparkling clear on high, 

While dew-drops kissed their feet. 

A stalwart yeoman and his sons, 

Detained in hay-field late, 
With cheerful greeting hurried by, 

And through his homestead gate. 
They rose and took their homeward path, 

Unmindful of the past, 
Nor feared the dark of sorrow's night, 

Nor felt yet life's chill blast. 

Yet heaven in pity seemed to yearn, 
And earth to breathe a sigh, 

As hand in hand, that night they stood, 
At last to say " Good-bye." 


The youth, unwilling, slowly turned, 

And at the closing door, 
With lingring looks, he went, they went, 

To meet on earth no more. 


' I have had playmates, I have had companions, 
In my days of childhood, in my joyous school-days ; 
All, all are gone, the old familiar faces, 

Gone before 
To that unknown and silent shore." 

Charles Lamb. 

' The aged farmer tott'ring o'er the green 
Leans on his staff, recounts the days he's seen." 


'Twas on another summer's eve, 

Long years had come and gone, 
Again the heath was tinged with gold, 

The west in glory shone. 
The linden tree in vigour stood, 

Its branches wider threw, 
The eglantine still spann'd the path, 

Its tendrils wilder grew. 

The breath of even rose and fell, 

As heave of maiden's breast, 
The river chaunted in its bed 

The song of nature's rest. 
While calm, as wrapped in childhood's sleep, 

Lay lake, and wood, and moor, 
Above, below, around, was peace, 

As thirty years before. 

With rev'rent step and thoughtful brow, 

A stranger trod the way, 
He bore the marks of manhood's prime, 

Tho' slightly streaked with grey. 


Three boys, his sons, in youthful glee, 
Were by their father's side, 

To them, 'twas joy 'mong trees to wind, 
And through the green shaws glide. 

He led them on, nor question asked, 

By paths no stranger knew ; 
'Till soon by glades and ferny banks, 

To boyish sports they flew. 
A broken seat in linden shade. 

With moss and lichen grown, 
He found, and rais'd with rev'rent care, 

And, lonely, sat him down. 

An aged man there slowly came, 

His form was bent and low, 
His hair was white, his cheeks were shrunk, 

Time's furrows mark'd his brow. 
" Mine aged friend," the stranger said, 

" By years and toil oppressed, 
Your tott'ring staff pray lay aside, 

And sit by me and rest." 

" Ah, Sir," he said, " the thanks I give 

Of one whose work is done ; 
Full fifty years this path I've trod, 

But now my course is run." 
He came, and by the stranger sat, 

And watched the boys at play, 
But mem'ries seemed within him stirred, 

Of some far distant day. 

" Methinks," ere long the old man said, 

" You are no stranger here, 
Yet 'tis a dream, my senses fail, 

And memory is not clear, 
But in its page of later days, 

Shall I the record seek, 
Or, in the far off years of youth, 

Ere manhood clothed your cheek ? " 


" It may be true," he quick replied, 

" That we before have met, 
Though 'tis a mirage oft that's seen 

Of things we don't forget. 
If fifty years you here have dwelt, 

Remote from busy town, 
Then every neighbour you'll have seen, 

And many changes known ? " 

" Aye, Sir, I have, and I can say, 

Though, Sir, it be with woe, 
Not many's left of those I knew, 

E'en thirty years ago." 
" Then worthy friend, no doubt you knew, 

There dwelt in yonder hall, 
Three sisters once, some years ago, 

Can you their fate recal ? " 

He gave a dubious glance, then said, 

" Alas, I knew them well, 
Though now 'tis many, many years, 

Since there they ceased to dwell. 
Aye, oft, as home from work we came, 

(I'd wife and children then) 
With cheery words they hailed us here, 

Or in yon forest glen. 

" One night, Oh, I remember 't well, 

(My wife was then at home, 
And, Sir, nigh thirty years ago, 

We laid her in the tomb, 
My children since have gone afar, 

Of all I am bereft, 
Of all, who gathered round our hearth, 

But I, alone, am left). 

" We passed along this well-known path, 

(My steps were not then slow), 
An eve like this, 'twas calm and still, 

They sat where we do now. 


I thought how happy was their lot, 
They seemed to know no care, 

But pure and free, in thought and word, 
As moorland's morning air. 

" But sir, as summers passed away, 

(And Oh, how quickly flown), 
First one was called, from hence away, 

To yon great smoky town ; 
A few years passed ; a message came, 

That ill did her betide, 
Her strength was gone, her bloom was fled 

Though almost still a bride. 

" She slowly drooped, and meekly bowed 

Beneath the hand of God ; 
They brought her home, and soon she lay 

Beneath our churchyard sod. 
The youngest next, in wedlock's bond, 

To distant city went ; 
But in its hurry, strife, and noise, 

Her lamp soon, too, was spent. 

" Upon a bleak cold winter's day, 

All things around seemed dead, 
They brought her, too, and laid her down 

By her dead sister's bed. 
In church-yard yonder on the hill, 

On stones 'neath drooping tree, 
You'll find the dates, and names, and age, 

If them you wish to see. 

" The other, do you ask of, Sir ? 

Her I remember well, 
Her kindly words, and kinder deeds, 

Could all the neighbours tell. 
She stayed with us much longer, Sir, 

And wept her sisters' loss, 
And like our Heavenly Master, Sir, 

She had to bear ' the cross.' 


" She went at last to city crowds, 

Where vice and sorrow blend, 
To nurse the sick, and tend the poor, 

Thus life for Christ to spend ; 
And there she laboured long, they said, 

The friend of young and old ; 
And blessings bore to squalid homes, 

More rich than finest gold. 

" Yet, Sir, in time there came a change, 

They hardly noticed how, 
And she who long had nursed the weak, 

Herself grew weak and low ; 
Then home she fled to rest, and breathe 

Our forest air so clear, 
As to its native covert flies 

The arrow- stricken deer. 

" Still oft she came to read to me, 

And spake of days gone by, 
And told of Him who died for us, 

And of the Home on High. 
Then, Sir, she went away again, 

To try new scenes and air, 
But, Sir, she only went to die, 

And strangers laid her there. 

" Now, Sir, I've told you what I know, 

I'll try to toddle home, 
But home is not what once it was, 

It's drear and very lone. 
The dark'ning hours around me close, 

I'm looking for the morn, 
To bring its light, and new-born strength, 

To the weary and the worn. 

" I then shall meet them all again, 

My wife that's gone before, 
My sons, who're now beyond the seas, 

Meet them to part no more. 


Good night, dear Sir, good night again," 
With faltering voice he spake, 

" Methinks e'en now o'er Almas Cliff 
The light begins to break." 

He rose, and moved with tott'ring step, 

Toward his lone house door, 
Not as, with sons in strength, he went, 

Those thirty years before, 
When with life's gifts around him shed, 

In pride he raised his brow, 
No thought, no hope, of home beyond, 

That home so precious now. 


Oft in the stilly night 

Ere slumber's chain has bound me, 
Fond memory brings the light 
Of other days around me ; 
The smiles, the tears, 
Of boyhood's years, 
The words of love then spoken ; 
The eyes that shone 
Now dimm'd and gone, 
The cheerful hearts now broken ! " 


Adieu, my friend of old, adieu ; 

Thy tale of bygone years, 
Might well arrest a wand'rer's step, 

Or move a stranger's tears ; 
To me it speaks with deeper voice, 

To pierce the inmost breast ; 
It thoughts awakes, and strikes a chord, 

Where sacred memories rest. 


Eyes dark with their excessive bright 

I see, dark eyes of truth, 
And forms, lithe, molded, moved, 

With fire of early youth ; 
And happy smiles, and merry glance, 

Yet live in memory clear, 
And ringing laugh, and joyous song-, 

Still linger on my ear. 

And are they gone ! How once we played, 

As only children play ; 
And, wand'ring through these meads and paths, 

Spent many a holiday ! 
How oft o'er hill and moor we strayed, 

With hand in hand together, 
Among the yellow gorse-bush bloom, 

Or 'cross the purple heather ! 

We plucked in Spring the primrose pale, 

In alders' grateful shade, 
By Washburn's heath- dyed waters' side, 

Or Green Beck's leafy glade ; 
We gathered many a bluebell fair, 

Along the steep Side-Bank, 
And many a meek forget-me-not, 

In Delf-Close bottoms dank ! 

And by the pleasant summer-seat, 

On hill above the " Cut," 
We loved to see the shadows flit, 

Cross Bluber Hall, or hut ; 
Or sat, or played, beside the gate, 

On Autumn's evening's wane, 
While homeward toiled the harvest-men 

By kindly Hopper Lane ; 

And often by the crag we watched, 

The river wind along, 
Where Fairfax tuned his British lyre 

To Tasso's sacred song. 


Or, by the old Church-porch we met, 
With lengthening shadow falling, 

As Sabbath bells to Evensong * 
The foresters were calling. 

And oft we sought the ferns and flowers, 

Where Kexgill's echoes wake, 
Or list to love's first murm'ring notes, 

By Bluber's sylvan lake. 
How quickly thus, though childhood's days, 

As days of childhood flew, 
We into youth and maidenhood, 

Together unconscious grew ! 

Since then, what changes time hath wrought ! 

What hopes have passed away ! 
How oft the dark of sorrow's night 

Hath come o'er youth's bright day ! 
How young-life's dreams, which seemed so real, 

And here were felt and told, 
Are now " forgotten as a dream," 

When the dreamer's heart lies cold ! 


Oft summer flowers have faded, died, 

Along the Well Close side, 
And autumn leaves been scattered, sere, 

O'er Clifton's meadow wide ; 
Oft ferns have drooped their golden fronds, 

In Kexgill's rocky dell, 
And 'neath the alder bushes bare, 

Run Washburn's angry swell. 

And oft the hay's been gathered in, 

And reaped the golden grain, 
And weary reapers wended home, 

By the Inn at Hopper Lane ; 

*" Those evening bells ! Those evening bells ! 
How many a tale their music tells ! 
Of youth, and home, and that sweet time 
When last I heard their soothing chime." Moore. 


And oft another reaper's come, 

With fabled scythe in hand, 
And reaped a precious harvest here, 

For the holy, better, land ! 

Here hectic blush hath burnt on cheeks, 

As glow of closing day, 
Lithe forms have faded, drooped, and sunk 

In slow unfelt decay ; 
And life, that throbbed in every vein, 

Hath waned with every breath, 
Till eyes, whence flashed once souls so deep, 

Have brighter flashed for death. 

As winter storms have fallen, bleak, 

Have gentle spirits fled, 
And sisters, one by one, been laid 

In their cold churchyard bed. 
With pure white snow for winding sheets, 

More soft than eider down, 
They rest in Him " Who giveth rest," 

And wait the golden crown. 


I stand, by memory's power, the gulf 

Of years behind is past ! 
I go, by faith the stream before 

Is bridged o'er at last ! 
Life's duties call : " A little while," 

And then the lost are found, 
And every holy hope is grasped, 

And broken tie re-bound. 


Long musing thus the stranger sat, 

Till stars shone bright on high ; 
A hand, laid gently on his arm, 

Told that his sons stood by. 
" Papa," said they, " Oh, why so sad, 

A tear is in your eye, 
Three times we spoken now to you, 

You've made us no reply ? " 


" Yes, boys, I thoughtful was, and sad, 

And you may wonder why ; 
To me there speaks a voice of days 

Far off, yet very nigh. 
But come now, let us haste away, 

What know you of the past ; 
The future's yours ; till time has fled, 

You do not feel its blast. 

" To you all speaks of joy and life ; 

With me it is not so ; 
The forms I see, the sounds I hear, 

Are those of long ago : 
And still so clear, so near, so real, 

Now hov'ring round they seem, 
That I, to them, might, in the morn, 

Awake as from a dream." 


Yes, eve of life, as eve of day, 

Is pledge of coming light, 
And that we lose in ev'ning's gloom, 

We find in morning's bright ; 
And mem'ries dear whose roots lie deep, 

In days and years of yore, 
The brighter burn, as nearer comes 

The morn, which lies before. 

And friends, and ties, asunder far, 

By death or distance riven, 
Though ne'er on earth they meet again, 

A trysting have in Heaven, 
Where gathered all, in that pure home, 

Afar from sin and strife, 
No change they'll know, no death is there,- 

But rest, and endless life. 



" All lovely Bolton ! though no incense roll, 

O'er cloistered courts by holy footsteps trod, 

Where from earth's thousand altars could the soul 

Hold a more rapt communion with its God ? " 

Earl of Carlisle, 

$HE mouldering walls of " Bolton's ruined priory " 
stand about two miles from the western boundary 
of the forest and its owners, in the olden times, 
possessed rights of pasture for their flocks on the forest's 
moors and hills. The ruins have, in the opinion of Dr. 
Whitaker, the historian of Craven, " for every purpose of 
picturesque effect no equal among the northern houses 
perhaps not in the kingdom." Most men who have visited 
them would probably endorse his words. 

They are, as yet, away from the pollutions of modern 
manufacture, on the banks of the crystal Wharf, amid rich 
meadows, with background of dark woods and heather- 
capped hills, in the rich pastoral district of Craven, of 
which, one, well acquainted with it, and who loved it, the 
late Earl of Carlisle, sang, 

" Vaunt not Helvetian hills, Ausonian vales, 

Vaunt not each painted, each poetic scene, 
Still, still I cling to Craven's past'ral dales, 
Their purple heather and their emerald green." 


Turner loved to paint Bolton. Landseer has depicted it 
in its prosperity, and in a manner suggestive of the 
fruitfulness of its forests, its granges, and its waters. 
Wordsworth and Rogers, and a host of minor poets, have 
immortalized its legends and its beauties. 

The history of the origin of the priory, and the tradition 
as to the selection of its charming site, are alike character- 
istic of the monastic foundations. 

William the Conqueror granted large possessions in 
Craven to William de Romille. His daughter and heiress, 
Cicely, and her husband, William de Meschtnes, founded, 
about 1120 A.D., a house for Augustinian canons at Embsay, 
a remote spot in the hills between the valleys of the Aire 
and the Wharf. The churches of Skipton and Carleton, and 
afterwards of Kildwick in Airedale, and Harewood, were 
bestowed, along with other possessions, as an endowment. 

The two daughters of the founders of this house, 
Adeliza and Avicia, retained their mother's name of De 
Romille an indication of the importance of her family. 
The possessions in Craven descended to Adeliza or Alice, 
the elder, who married William Fitz Duncan, nephew of 
David, King of Scotland. One son alone survived of this 
marriage the last hope of the De Romilles. From the 
place of his birth one of his parents' manors hi Cumber- 
land he was known as the " boy of Egremond." 

A tittle over a mile from the ruins of the priory, in the 
deep solitude of the woods, is the well-known " Strid." 
Here the valley is suddenly closed in by immense rocks of 
millstone grit. Through a channel worn, or rent, in these, 
and not more in some places than four or five feet in width, 
the whole of the waters of the Wharf are poured with 
terrific force. 

While on a hunting expedition in the year 1251 A.D., 
the boy of Egremond, accompanied by huntsmen and with 
hound in leash, came to this romantic spot. Fearlessly he 
attempted to step across the seething channel of the Strid. 
Like several persons who have attempted the same feat in 
modern times, he paid the penalty of foolhardiness. The 


houndjn leash suddenly held backhand checked its master's 
step, and he"_f ell ] into the abyss and perished. _^The 
affrighted forester, who had accompanied his master, 
hurried to the^Lady^Adeliza.^ Probably the dismay on his 
countenance told the sad story, to an anxious mother, more 
plainly thanfhis significant ^inquiry, " What is good for a 
bootless bene ?'' which Wordsworth interprets, 

" Whence can comfort spring 
When prayer is of no avail ?" 

Her despairing response was " Endless sorrow." 

When she realised that she was indeed childless, she 
vowed "that many a poor man's child should be her heir." 
To accomplish this object she removed the religious 
house, founded by her parents at Embsay, to the nearest 
available spot to that at which the young Romille was lost, 
namely, the present site of the ruins at Bolton. She also 
increased the endowments of the brotherhood, giving to 
them " the whole of the vill at Bolton, and the place called 
Stede, and the land between Poseford and Spectbek, and 
the rivers Wharf and Washburn." To these, other pos- 
sessions at Harewood, Keighley, and elsewhere, were 
liberally added afterwards by other donors. 

This legend of the foundation, or rather re-foundation of 
the priory, has stirred the poetic genius of two of our 
sweetest poets, Wordsworth and Rogers, each of whom, in 
his own inimitable way, has given it a prominent place in 
English literature. The latter thus sings : 

" ' Say, what remains when hope is fled ? ' 
She answered, ' Endless weeping ! ' 
For in the herdsman's eye she saw 
Who in his shroud was sleeping. 

At Embsay rung the matin bell, 
The stag was roused on Barden fell ; 
The mingled sounds were swelling, dying, 
And down the Wharf a hern was flying ; 
When near the cabin in the wood, 
In tartan clad and focest grean, 
With hound in leash and hawk in hood, 
The boy of Egremond was seen. 


Blithe was his song, a song of yore, 

But where the rock is rent in two, 

And the river rushes through, 

His voice was heard no more. 

'Twas but a step, the gulf he passed ; 

But that step it was his last ! 

As through the mist he winged his way 

(A cloud that hovers night and day), 

The hound hung back, and back he drew 

The master and his merlin too ; 

That narrow place of noise and strife 

Received their little all of life. 

And now the matin bell is rung, 

The " miserere " duly sung ; 

And holy men in cowl and hood 

Are wand'ring up and down the wood. 

But what avail they ?" 

Wordsworth, under the title, " The Force of Prayer," 
treats the tradition more fully, and at greater length : 

" ' What is good for a bootless bene ?' 

With these dark words begins my tale ; 
And their meaning is, whence can comfort spring 
When prayer is of no avail? 

" What is good for a bootless bene ? ' 

The falconer to the lady said ; 
And she made answer, ' Endless sorrow ! ' 

For she knew that her son was dead. 
" She knew it by the falconer's words, 

And from the look of the falconer's eye ; 
And from the love which was in her soul 
For her youthful Eomilly. 

" Young Eomilly through Barden Woods 

Is ranging high and low; 
And holds a greyhound in a leash, 
To let slip upon buck or doe. 

" The pair have reached that fearful chasm j 

How tempting to bestride ! 
For lordly Wharf is there pent in 
With rocks on either side. 

" This striding-place is called ' the Strid,' 

A name which it took of yore ; 
A thousand years hath it borne that name, 
And shall a thousand more. 


" And hither is young Romilly conie, 

And what may now forbid 
That he perhaps for the hundredth time 
Shall bound across the Strid ? 

" He sprang in glee for what cared he 

That the river was strong, and the rocks were steep ? 
But the greyhound in the leash hung back 
And checked him in his leap. 

" The boy is in the arms of Wharf, 

And strangled by a merciless force, 
And never more was young Eomilly seen 
Till he rose a lifeless corse. 

" Now there is stillness in the vale, 

And long unspeaking sorrow ; 
Wharf shall be to pitying hearts 
A name more sad than Yarrow. 

" If for a lover the lady wept, 
A solace she might borrow 
From death, and f roin the passion of death j 
Old Wharf might heal her sorrow. 

" She weeps not for the wedding day 

Which was to be to-morrow ; 
Her hope was a farther-looking hope, 
And her's is a mother's sorrow. 

" He was a tree that stood alone, 

And proudly did its branches wave ; 
And the root of this delightful tree 
Was in her husband's grave. 

" Long, long in darkness did she sit, 

And her first words were, ' Let there be 
In Bolton, on the field of Wharf, 
A stately priory ! ' 

" The stately priory was reared, 

And Wharf, as he moved along, 
To matins joined a mournful voice, 
Nor failed at evensong. 

" And the lady prayed in heaviness, 

That looked not for relief ; 
But slowly did her succour come, 
And a patience to her grief. 


" Oh ! there is never sorrow of heart 

That shall lack a timely end, 
If but to God we turn, and ask 
Of Him to be our friend ! " 

The priory appears to have been at the height of its 
prosperity about the beginning- of the fourteenth century. 
In 1299 A.D. the annual value was 865 17s. 6d., which, 
at the dissolution in 1540 A.D., had diminished, probably 
through the ravages of the Scots after the battle of 
Bannockburn, to 298 15s. lid. 

We learn, from the various books and accounts yet 
extant, that the establishment usually consisted of the 
prior, eighteen monks or canons, and two or three conversi ; 
the Armigeri, or gentlemen dependent on the house ; the 
Liberi Servientes, or free servants, "inter curiam" and 
" extra curiam." There were about thirty of the former, 
amongst whom were the master carpenter, master and 
under cook, brewer, baker, smith, Hokarius Fagotarius, 
and the Ductor Succorum. These received wages of from 
three to ten shillings per annum. The Liberi Servientes 
" extra curiam," numbered from seventy to one hundred, 
and were employed in husbandry on the farms and granges. 
Besides these, there appears to have been also a con- 
siderable number of " garciones," or household slaves. 

At the dissolution in 1540 A.D., when the priory was 
surrendered to the king's commissioners by Richard Moon, 
the last prior, there were but thirteen brethren or canons. 

The following list of "the stock" of the priory in 1301 
A.D. is very suggestive of the prosperity depicted in 
Landseer's " Bolton Abbey in the Olden Time." 

In that year, at Bolton and the Granges, which were the 
outlying farms of the house, "there were 713 horned 
cattle, of which 252 were oxen ; 2,193 sheep, 95 pigs, and 
91 goats." And there were slaughtered in one year for 
consumption, " besides venison, fish, and poultry, 64 oxen, 
35 cows, 1 steer, 140 sheep, and 69 pigs." The quantity 
of wheat flour used in the same period was 319 quarters; 
of barley and oatmeal for household purposes, 192 quarters. 


There was made into malt (oats or barley), for ale, 636 
quarters. The quantity of wine purchased was seven 
dolia. A dolium was 2 pipes. Taking a pipe at 126 
gallons, we have a total of nearly 1800 gallons for the 
year. No doubt one great virtue of the brotherhood was 
generous hospitality. 

It must not be thought, however, that all these " good 
things of the earth " necessarily secured peace and good- 
will among their possessors. Glimpses of a very different 
state of feeling are occasionally to be caught. 

The learned author of " Fasti Eboracensis " (Canon 
Raine), from the register of Archbishop Giffard, gives a 
report of certain investigations made, by that archbishop's 
authority, into the condition of some of the northern 
monasteries in the years A.D. 1274 1276. The entry in 
this report respecting Bolton may be taken as a specimen. 

" Bolton - in - Craven. The whole convent conspired 
against the predecessor of William de Danfield, the present 
prior. Nicholas de Broc, the sub-prior, is old and useless. 
Silence is not observed, and there is much chattering and 
noise. John de Pontefract, the present cellarer, is incom- 
petent. The cellarer and sub- cellarer are often absent 
from service and refections, and have their meals by 
themselves when the canons have left the refectory. The 
house is in debt to the amount of 324 5s. 7d." 

Much of the leisure time of at least some of the monks 
was devoted to the study of astrology and alchemy, and 
they embodied their knowledge of these mystical sciences 
in long metrical narratives still extant, but perfectly, or 
nearly so, unintelligible to the common sense of modern 

One of their nearest neighbours, in the latter part of the 
fifteenth and the beginning of the sixteenth century, was 
Lord Clifford of Barden Tower, known as " the shepherd 
lord," who, after a life of study and rural retirement, was 
called to a chief command at the battle of Flodden in 1513 
A.D. To the days of his retirement near the priory 
Wordsworth thus alludes : 


" And choice of studious friends had he 
Of Bolton's dear fraternity, , 

Who, standing on the old church tower, 
In many a calm propitious hour, 
Perused with him the starry sky ; 
Or in their cells with him did pry 
For other lore, through strong desire, 
Searching the earth with chernic fire." 

There was one circumstance which interrupted, sadly, 
the happiness of the nobleman's retirement, and probably, 
also the peace of his monastic neighbours, and that was 
the conduct of his scape-grace son, who equally with his 
father, has shared the tradition of being the hero of the 
old ballad of "Ye nutte browne maide." A letter from 
the Shepherd Lord to one at the Court of the king 
Henry VIII. is preserved by Whitaker, in the which, 
Lord Clifford bitterly complains of "the ungodly and 
ungudely conduct of his son, Henrie Clifforde." He states 
that this mad-cap son sets at nought his commands, 
threatens his servants, and with his own hand, had struck 
his " poore ser vaunt Henrie Popeley in peryl of dethe, 
w'ch so lyeth, and is lyke to dye " ; besides this the father 
complains of his son's thefts committed to support his 
inordinate pride and riot ; and that notwithstanding he 
had given him 15, " and over that his blessyng upon his 
gude and lawful demeanour," desiring him to forsake the 
evil company of certain evil companions, " as well yonge 
gents as oth's," lest, " he sholde bee utterlie undone for 
ev'r, as well bodilie as ghostlie," yet that he continueth 
his course of disobedience, " and troblith divers housys of 
religioun, to bring from them their tythes, shamefully 
betyng ther tenaunts and s'vants, in such wyse as some 
whol townes are fayne to keype the churches both nighte 
and daye, and dare not come att ther own housys." 

On such an expedition, W. H. Leatham, Esq., in a pretty 
ballad entitled " Henrie Clifforde and Margaret Percy," 
makes Henrie present himself at midnight, as a wayworn 
and pilgrim, at the gates of the Priory, and ask a lodging 
from the prior. The prior (Moon) 


" Spake, and straightway entrance gave ; 
The pilgrim held his sturdy stave 

Within the opening door, 
Then turning, whistled loud and shrill, 
Till answering from the woodland hill, 

Eose laughter's frantic roar ; 
And troop on troop, came hurrying down, 
But ill concealed in palmer's gown, 

With staff, and scallop shell. 
The wilder still the chiding broke, 
Till ilk' affrighted Friar woke, 

Within the peaceful dell. 
" How, now ? good Father Moyne ! " quoth they, 

" One hundred marks of thee, 
" Or thou shall wend with us away, 

" Under the green-wood tree ! " 
Then one by one, with haggard mien, 
Each sleep-awakened monk was seen, 

With ghost-astounded air ; 
For when he viewed the burly knaves, 
Bearded and bronzed, with secret glaives, 
Stand with uplifted, oaken staves, 

He mote, in sooth, despair ! 
" Now, Prior Moyne ! we must away, 
To the green-wood, ere break of day, 

And thou with us shalt go ! " 
The priest is loth, but yield he must, 
Or, pay one hundred marks on trust, 

With raickle wrath, and woe. 
The bag is brought the coin is told, 
And doubly curst the sinners bold, 

Who, robb'd the church, and filch'dher gold." 

While quoting this ballad by Mr. Leatham, the following 
description of Barden in the early morning from it can 
scarcely be withheld : 

"Now, round about old Barden's towers, 
Round ivied wall, and leafy bowers, 

Light mists are hovering thin, 
Or falling soft, in silver showers, 

The Wharfe's deep vale within ; 
Now walks abroad the glorious sun, 
Scattering away the dawn-clouds dun ; 
And with the birth of day is heard, 
The piping of each minstrel bird. 


Where stately oaks, in forest pride, 

Rise from yon river's bed, 
Mantling the hills on either side, 

In one broad covert spread, 
Old Clifforde's Hall, and chantry's aisle, 

Lattice, and solemn tracery, 
Basking like youth in love's first smile, 

Glow beneath the golden sky." 

After these glimpses of monastic life within, and at the 
priory, and its surroundings, a passing look may now, in 
conclusion, be taken at the ruins : 

" O Bolton, what a change ! but still thou art 
Noble in ruins, great in every part ! 
When we behold thee, signs of grandeur gone, 
Live on thy walls and shine in every stone." 

Only sufficient fragments of the domestic buildings 
remain, in foundations and scattered buttresses, to show 
how extensive they must have been. 

The principal parts of the church, however, are yet 
standing. The nave is appropriately fitted up and used 
as the parish church. And, only two or three years ago, a 
beautiful screen and reredos, shutting off the nave from 
the ruined central tower, have been erected by the liberality 
of the noble owner of Bolton, the owner, also, of princely 

The central tower appears, for some reason, never to 
have been carried much above the roof of the nave, nor 
completed. In 1521 A.D., Richard Moon, the last prior, 
commenced to build a tower at the west end of the nave. 
This, too, was unfinished when he and the brethren were 
dispersed at the dissolution. It bears the inscription in 
Old English letters, " In the yer of our Lord MDCXX, 
R^-. begann thes fondachon, on qwho soul God haue 
marce. Amen." While forming now the west entrance 
to the church, this tower entirely hides the original west 

The nave contains specimens of every style of architec- 
ture, from that of transitional to that immediately preceding 
the Reformation. 


The walls of the north transept remain tolerably perfect ; 
those of the south one are completely gone. 

The chancel walls also remain. It has been of the 
Decorated period, but little, unfortunately, of its once 
beautiful tracery is now to be seen. The magnificent east 
window contains the only fragments left, and those only 
sufficient to show how exquisitely beautiful it must have 
been when perfect. The peep of scenery mountain, 
wood and water which is obtained through the archway 
of the window one of nature's most pleasing pictures in 
one of art's most graceful frames is alone worth a visit 
to Bolton. 

In both the nave and chancel were chantry chapels. One, 
at the east end of the aisle of the nave, was founded by 
an early benefactor of the monastery, a Mauleverer of 
Beamsley. The Mauleverers were succeeded by the 
Claphams of Beamsley. Beneath this chantry chapel is 
the family vault, in which, according to tradition, those 
who were interred were always placed in an upright posi- 
tion. It is said that modern examinations have confirmed the 
truth of the tradition. However, the poet has utilized it : 

" Pass, pass who will, yon chantry door, 
And through the chink in the fractured floor 
Look down, and see a grisly sight 
A vault, where the bodies are buried upright ! 
There, face by face, and hand by hand, 
The Claphams and Mauleverers stand ; 
And in his place among son and sire, 
Is John de Clapham, that fierce esquire, 
A valiant man, and a man of dread 
In the ruthless wars of the White and Eed ; 
Who dragged Earl Pembroke from Banbury Church, 
And smote off his head on the stones of the porch." 

Within a few years of the dissolution the site of the 
deserted priory, with the chief part of its late possessions, 
was granted for a nominal sum of money to Henry Clif- 
ford, Earl of Cumberland, who already had possessions 
in the vicinity, and from whom it has descended, in the 
female line, to the present noble owner. 


In the middle of the seventeenth century the heiress of 
the family was the Lady Anne Clifford, upon whom, by 
marriage or otherwise, had accumulated the titles of 
Countess of Pembroke, Dorset and Montgomery, Baroness 
Clifford, Westmoreland, and Vescie. This lady was evi- 
dently a strong upholder of women's rights in her own 
days. " She had been ' an independent courtier in the 
court of the haughty Elizabeth ; she personally resisted 
an award of her family property by King James ; she re- 
fortified her castles in defiance of Cromwell ; and when the 
secretary of Charles II. wrote to her, naming a suitable can- 
didate for one of her parliamentary boroughs," she replied, 

" Sire, I have been bullied by a usurper, I have been 
neglected by a court, but will not be dictated to by a 
subject. Your man shan't stand. Anne, Dorset, Pembroke, 
and Montgomery." 

It is impossible to turn away from this place without 
recalling the tradition of the " White Doe of Rylstone," and 
the world- wide poem which Wordsworth founded upon it. 

Rylstone the home of the Nortons is upon the fells 
some five or six miles above the priory. 

Standing among the ruins, by the priory church, it is not 
difficult to realize the scene, on the Sabbath morn, so 
sweetly pictured by the poet : 

" From Bolton's old monastic tower 
The bells ring out with gladsome power ; 
The sun is bright ; the fields are gay 
With people in their best array 
Of stole and doublet, hood and scarf, 
Along the banks of the crystal Wharfe, 
Through the vale, retired and lowly, 
Trooping to that summons holy. 
And up among the woodlands see 
What sprinklings of blithe company ! 
Of lasses, and of shepherd grooms, 

That down the steep hills force their way, 
Like cattle through the budded brooms ; 

Path or no path, what care they ? 
And thus in joyous mood they hie, 
To Bolton's mouldering priory." 


There are still the tangled paths through the moorlands, 
the fells, the woods, and the meadows, all before 
the eye. Along them, or across them, members of the 
congregation are still to be seen wending their way to the 
House of God. The white doe, which after the death of 
its gentle mistress, Emily Norton, 

" Maid of that blasted family," 

sought, every Sabbath day, a place by her grave in the 
shadow of the church, may, without any great stretch of 
the imagination, be pictured there also, 

" Eight across the verdant sod, 
Toward the very house of God, 
Comes gliding in with silvery gleam, 

Comes gliding in serene and slow, 
Soft and silent as a dream, 

A solitary doe ; 
"White she is as lily of June, 
Beauteous as the silver moon 
When out of sight the clouds are driven, 
And she is left alone in heaven." 


" When from the temple forth they throng, 
Her work, whate'er it be, is done, 
And she'll depart when they are gone." 

Well ! gone is the Bolton of monastic times ; gone those 
days of the grim Claphams and the dark Cliffords ; gone 
the white doe and its gentle mistress ; gone, as some may 
perhaps yet think it, that " sunrise time of zeal," 

" When faith and hope were in their prime, 
In great Eliza's golden time." 

And yet, of Bolton, in the words of another true poet of 
the north, (the late Canon Parkinson), it may be said, 

" Here nature smiles as bright as when 
Thy towers first rose amid the glen ; 
Sweetly still the stream rolls on, 
Though many an imaged arch is gone. 
The sheep still graze this velvet ground, 
The oak and ash still nourish round ; 
And still the bridled current roars, 


And through the pass as wildly pours 
As when, check'd by his timid hound, 
The boy of Egremont was drown'd. 
Unchang'd in voice, young Echo still 
Is heard to shout round Barden hill. 
And daily from yon scar's proud crown, 
The untamed cataract pours down. 
The sunshine casts as sweet a smile, 
On ruined walls and moss-grown aisle, 
As when its rays more proudly shone 
On glittering vane and sculptured stone. 
And wandering eyes still love to gaze 
On thee, thou child of other days, 
And treasure up, for years to be, 
A kindly memory of thee ! " 


hail thee, pearly snowdrop dear, 
In dress of virgin white ; 
Herald amid the winter's gloom 
Of spring's returning light ! 

In sheltered dell by Green Beck side, 
Thou lift'st thy humble head, 

And gently spring'st in new-born life, 
From dust of last year's dead. 

Like tear of faith in sorrow's eye, 

Like hope on mourner's brow, 
Thou spak'st of life and summer bloom 

Where yet lies winter's snow. 
Then hail thee, pearly snowdrop dear, 

The first of Flora's train, 
In forest dell and woodland nook, 

Or on the open plain ! 

Yes, hail thee, meek and lowly flower, 

In dress of virgin white, 
Herald amid the winter's gloom, 

Of spring's returning light ! 



"'HAREBELL I thou meek blue harebell ! 
With infant hand I pluck'd thee, 

growing here by the spring well, 
Under the green forest tree. 

When on me youth had cast its spell, 
With loved ones then I found thee, 

Then growing here by the spring well, 
Under green forest tree. 

Thirty years ! and, in this dell, 
With tear-dimmed eye I hail thee, 

Growing here by the spring well, 
Under the brown forest tree. 

Dead mem'ries rise perforce and tell, 
Of those who ne'er may hail thee, 

Here growing still by the spring well, 
Under the brown forest tree. 

Emotions deep my bosom swell, 

As now my children pluck thee, 
Still growing here by the spring well, 

Under the old forest tree. 

When in a higher world I dwell, 
Their children too may find thee, 

Then growing here by the spring well, 
Under the dead forest tree. 

Harebell ! meek and fragile harebell ! 

Fair emblem of death to see, 
As plucked to-day by the spring well, 

Under the old forest tree. 

Harebell ! perennial harebell ! 

Thou speak'st of life to me ; 
Ever growing by the spring well 

Under the green forest tree. 



And thus with gentle voice he spoke, 
' Coine lead me, lassie, to the shade, 
Where willows grow beside the brook ; 

For well I know the sound it made, 
When dashing o'er the stony rill, 
It murmured to St. Osyth's mill.' 

' The lass replied, ' The trees are fled, 
They've cut the brook a straighter bed; 
No shades the present lords allow, 
The miller only murmurs now; 
The waters now his mill forsake, 
And form a pond they call a lake.' " Crabbe. 

ROTHER, dost thou remember 

The valley bright and fair, 
Where ran the sparkling river, 
And breath of peace was there ? 

The pastures rich where browsed, 

In the sweet summer time, 
Fair herds, at noon and evening, 

And in the morning's prime ; 

The meadows, where in hay-time, 
We tossed the new-mown grass, 

And whence, with shouts, we homeward 
.Then bore the fragrant mass ? 


Brother, dost thou remember, 

The dark, thick Lane Ends Wood, * 

Where, by the slippery pathways, 
Our fav'rite nut-trees stood ; 

The hollies and the brambles, 

Where built the birds in spring- ; 

The green " shaw " at the bottom, 
With mystic " fairy ring ; " 

That pine where built the magpie 

Her nest thick year by year ; 
That hawthorn-shaded hollow, 

Where the Green- Well bubbled clear ? 

Brother, dost thou remember 

" The Busks " and " Coppice " glade, 
Where hyacinth and primrose 

Bedecked the hazel shade ; 

The pool in winding river, 

So clear, and cool, and deep, 
Where in the hot June weather, 

Were washed the bleating sheep : 

The long " reach " in " the alders," 

And birch of silvery grey, 
Where sat the proud kingfisher, 

To watch his finny prey ? 

Brother, dost thou remember 

The " Green Beck " and " the Gill ; " 

The dear old homestead, nestling, 
Beneath the sandstone hill ? 

* All the words written as proper names are the names of fields 
and places which have been engulfed by, or their appearance materially 
altered by, the naw reservoirs constructed by the Leeds Corporation in 
the valley of the Washburn, and which now occupy a very considerable 
portion of that valley . 


Ah, dost thou not remember 

The " Delph," " the Holm," the Garth ;" 
The " Side-Bank " and " the Bottoms," 

Their flowers and velvet swarth ; 

The hedge-rows, where the rabbits, 
On summer ev'ning played, 

The tree, in which the " owlets " 
Their wintry lodgings made ? 

Brother, dost thou remember 

The " Thackray " homestead, well ; 

Where, near its wood, the brooklet 
Into the Washburn fell ? 

And further down the river, 
By the brown moorland side, 

The " New Hall " famed in story, 
For deeds that darkness hide ; 

Where dwelt immortal Fairfax, 

And tuned his British lyre, 
Our chill cold north'rn song to warm, 

With Tasso's southern fire ? 

And yet a little further, 

So dark and thick, and tall, 

The woods of grand old Swinsty, 
Descending from the Hall, 

To where the river gurgled, 

Along its stony path, 
From the dark and slipp'ry " hippins," 

By side of Rowton Wath ? 

The dear old church, too, brother, 
Where long our fathers prayed, 

And round whose sacred walls now 
Their mould'ring dust is laid ; 

Ah, dost thou not remember, 

How, throned upon the hill, 
It looked o'er meads and cornfields, 

O'er wood, and hall, and mill ? 


And then the quaint bright village, 

On terraced hill-side won, 
With gardens trim and sloping 

To meet the mid- day sun : 

High up, the thatched schoolhouse, 

The " Green," where oft we played, 
The " Shop " where Robin Hardisty, 

His feathery " tackle " made ; 
The path near which the " webster," 

His noisy shuttle plied, 
The house upon whose chimney 

The " signal broom " was tied ? 
Brother, dost thou remember 

These landmarks in the vale, 
These haunts of early childhood, 

In sunny Washburn dale ? 

Does not the mere recital 

Of things familiar then, 
Awake a loving memory, 

E'en now, when we are men ? 

Our fathers, long before us, 

Much loved these rural shades, 
And in their youth and manhood 

Oft paced the well-known glades ; 

In them, when youth smiled brightly, 

They told their tales of love ; 
Of them, in old age prattled 

Ere called to homes above. 

No spot to us familiar, 

But known to them before ; 
And brook and field and pathwa}' 

Were loved by them of yore. 

All are gone or going, brother ! 

And most are swept away ! 
And o'er the vale and homesteads, 

The waters roll to-day. 


Our children ne'er may know them, 
Nor see as we have seen ; 

Except from love's reporting, 

Ne'er know that they have been ! 

The "holms" and dark green pastures, 
Where sheep and cattle fed ; 

The " busks " and sloping meadows, 
With many a thymy bed ; 

The clear pools in the river, 
The banks aud braes so steep, 

Are buried 'neath the waters, 
Full fifty fathoms deep ! 

The hollies and the hazels 

Are stript from Lane Ends Wood, 
" The coppice" and its flowers 

Are far beneath the flood. 
The " shaw," where danced the fairies, 

The " gap," where rabbits played, 
The hedge, and dark green alders, 

In watery depths are laid. 
" The gill " is filled with waters, 

Where but the Green Beck ran ; 
And from Low Cragg to Ridsdale 

Waters the valley span. 
Cragg Hall, now lone and dreary, 

Which from Eliza's day 
Hath looked o'er vale and woodland, 

Sees but the waters' play. 
And quiet " Thackray" homestead, 

Whence sprang a race of fame, 
Its wood, and holm, and brooklet 

Have perished but in name. 

And o'er the spot where Fairfax 
First taught his nephew brave, 

And lived, and sung, and died, 
There beats the rip'ling wave. 


And where, hard by, the mill race, 

The mill and bridge were known, 
There now are raised great earth-works, 

Or lake rests, deep and brown. 

And now the woods of Swinsty, 

Are swept away, and gone ; 
The Hall but stands to mourn them. 

Majestic still, but lone. 

And up the deep Gill Bottoms, 

And o'er the Wath and stones, 
The water, calm, is resting, 

Or in the tempest moans. 

The dear old church yet reigneth 

Upon its hill-side throne, 
And o'er the waters smileth 

As oncf o'er fields, its own. 

But, ah, the village changeth, 

Its rural life hath fled ; 
The villagers are moving, 

And some, alas, are dead. 

Its fields and paths are heaving, 

By unseen power toss'd, 
Its homes and cots are ruins, 

Another Auburn lost ! 

The lake of deep brown waters, 

Expanding far and wide, 
Now holds the forest valley 

In all-engulphing tide. 

These scenes of rural beauty, 

Which once we thought our own, 
Are swept off quick and ruthless, 

For needs of distant town ! 

No doubt, a sense of grandeur 

The wide-extending lake 
Its wood-clad banks and islets, 

In strangers will awake. 


Though by this innovation, 
Fair scenes have here arisen, 

Yet old associations, 

Before them out are driven. 

" No man who'th drunk the old wine, 
Straightway desireth new, 

He saith ' the old is better,' " 
So 'tis with I and you. 

To us who knew the " older," 
This new thing ne'er can be 

The sweet pastoral valley, 
Now sleeping; 'neath this sea! 



7RAGG Hall ! To memory sacred and affection dear, 
I leave thee. My dead fathers loved thee well, 
And thou their joys, and sorrows too, could'st tell I 
They loved thee through Spring, and Summer, Autumn sere, 
And Winter's death, of many a circling year. 

Their birth thou hailed ; then list' their marriage bell ; 
Young voices again thou heard : then hark ! the knell 
Thy lord was fatherless ; there fell the widow's tear ; 
I leave thee ; home where all their joys and fears 
And footfalls fell for twice a hundred years. 
I leave thee ; for another owns thee now, 
For him, and his, thy hearths with welcome glow, 
For them thy roofs resound, and shelter spread ; 
I leave thee, but, as the widoiv leaves her dead. 




Los Angeles 
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Lays and leaves 
>22 of the_forest_ 





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