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The Pall afaU Oaietk says : "We must express 

reproduce some specingns of the charming illus- 
trations, which are at Wat as great an atft-actioa 
as the writing o^Mr. Home's book. Of these there 
are thirty-two, among which it would be invidious 
to select any for si «cial commendation when all 
are deUghtful. Let it suffice to say that they bring 
the water of envy into the mouth of the Londoner 
who can only ' babble o' green fields,' while, beyond 
the rarige of his opportunities, the YorldSiire moors 
are clothing th«roselTes in all the gloi^Mf their 

may tempt some of us to spend the tumlier 
holidays in the oounty of .the White Rose. Vi^n 
he has gathered ^ fragrant a posy." 

A. ft C BiACR . SOHO Square . London . W. 



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Is one of the finest ruined monasteries in England, and 
its wonderfully rich setting in the sylvan splendours 
of Studley Roval make it still more noteworthy. The 
velvet t\m, the rushing waters of the Skell, the 
magnificent trees, and the solemnity of the ruins, 
combine in producing an inefbceable memory. 






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This book is a companion volume to that entitled 
* Yorkshire Coast and Moorland Scenes/ which was 
published in 1904. 

It describes a tract of country that is more &11 
of noble and imposing scenery than the north- 
eastern comer of the county, although it has none 
of the advantages of a coast-line. Beyond this, 
the area covered by the present volume is larger 
than that of the earlier one, and the historic 
events connected with its great over-lords and 
their castles, with the numerous monasteries and 
ancient towns, are so fiiU of thrilling interest that 
it has only been possible to sample here and there 
the vast stores of romance that exist in some 
hundreds of volumes of early and modem writings. 



AprU, 1906. 




The Dale Country as a whole 1 

Richmond 13 



Wenslbydale 71 

RiPON and Fountains Abbey 115 

Knaresborouoh and Harrogate 125 

Wharfedale 139 

Skipton, Malham^ and Gordale 149 

Settle and the Inoleton Felu l65 

Index 173 


List of Illustrations 

1. Fountains Abbey Froniispiece 

2. Richmond Castle from the River .... 20 

3. Richmond from the West SO 

4. Swaledale in the Early Autumn 48 

5. Downholme Moor^ above Swaledale . , , , 56 

6. Muker on a Stormy Afternoon 64 

7. Twilight in the Buttei^tubs Pass .... 72 

8. Hardraw Force 78 

9. A Rugged View above Wensleydale .... 82 

10. A Jacobean House at Askrigg 90 

11. Aysgarth Force 98 

12. Bolton Castle, Wensleydale 104 

18. View up Wensleydale from Ley bum Shawl .110 

14. Ripon Minster from the South 118 

15. Knaresborough 126 

16. Bolton Abbey, Wharfedale 142 

17. Hubberhohne Church 144 

18. The Courtyard of Skipton Castle . .150 

19. GordaleScar l60 

20. Settle 166 





When in the early years of life one learns for the 
first time the name of that range of mountains 
forming the backbone of England, the youthful 
scholar looks forward to seeing in later years the 
prolonged series of lofty hills known as the 'Pennine 
Range.' His imagination pictiu'es Pen-y-ghent and 
Ingleborough as great peaks, seldom free from a 
mantle of clouds, for are they not called * moun- 
tains of the Pennine Range/ and do they not appear 
in almost as large type in the school geography as 
Snowdon and Ben Nevis ? But as the scholar grows 
older and more able to travel, so does the Pennine 
Range recede from his vision, until it becomes almost 
as remote as those crater-strewn moimtains in the 
Moon which have a name so similar. 

This elusiveness on the part of a natural feature 
so essentially static as a mountain range is attribu- 
table to the total disregard of the name of this 

8 1—2 


particular chain of hills. In the same way as the 
term ^Cmnbrian HiUs' is exchanged for the popular 
' Lake District/ so is a large section of the Pennine 
Range paradoxically known as the ^Yorkshire 

It is because the hills are so big that the valleys 
are deep, and it is owing to the great watersheds 
that these long and narrow dales are beautified by 
some of the most copious and picturesque rivers 
in England. In spite of this, however, when one 
climbs any of the fells over 2,000 feet, and looks 
over the mountainous ridges on every side, one 
sees, as a rule, no peak or isolated height of any 
description to attract one's attention. Instead of 
the rounded or angular projections from the horizon 
that are usually associated with a mountainous 
district, there are great expanses of brown table- 
land that form themselves into long parallel lines 
in the distance, and give a sense of wild desolation 
in some ways more striking than the peaks of 
Scotland or Wales. The thick formations of mill- 
stone grit and limestone that rest upon the shale 
have generally avoided crumpling or distortion, and 
thus give the mountain views the appearance of 
having had all the upper smfaces rolled flat when 
they were in a plastic condition. Denudation and 


the action of ice in the glacial epochs have worn 
through the hard upper stratum, and formed the 
long and narrow dales ; and in Littondale, Wharfe- 
dale, Wensleydale, and many other parts, one may 
plainly see the perpendicular wall of rock sharply 
defining the upper edges of the valleys. The softer 
rocks below generally take a gentle slope from the 
base of the hard gritstone to the river-side pastures 
below. At the edges of the dales, where waterfalls 
pour over the wall of limestone — as at Hardraw 
Scar, near Hawes — ^the action of water is plainly 
demonstrated, for one can see the rapidity with 
which the shale crumbles, leaving the harder rocks 
overhanging above. 

Unlike the moors of the north-eastern parts of 
Yorkshire, the fells are not prolific in heather. It 
is possible to pass through Wensleydale — or, indeed, 
most of the dales — ^without seeing any heather at 
all. On the broad plateaux between the dales 
there are stretches of moor partially covered with 
ling; but in most instances the fells and moors 
are grown over at their higher levels with bent 
and coarse grass, generally of a browny-ochrish 
colour, broken here and there by an outcrop of 
limestone that shows gray against the swarthy 


In the upper portions of the dales — even in the 
narrow river-side pastures — ^the fences are of stone, 
turned a very dark colour by exposure, and every- 
where on the slopes of the hills a wide network of 
these enclosures can be seen traversing even the 
most precipitous ascents. Where the dales widen 
out towards the fat plains of the Vale of York, 
quickset hedges intermingle with the gaunt stone, 
and as one gets further eastwards the green hedge 
becomes triumphant The stiles that are the fashion 
in the stone-fence districts make quite an interesting 
study to strangers, for, wood being an expensive 
luxury, and stone being extremely cheap, every- 
thing is formed of the more enduring material 
Instead of a trap-gate, one generally finds an exces- 
sively narrow opening in the fences, only just giving 
space for the thickness of the average knee, and 
thus preventing the passage of the smallest lamb. 
Some stiles are constructed with a large flat stone 
projecting from each side, one slightly in front 
and overlapping the other, so that one can only 
pass through by making a very carefrd S-shaped 
movement. More common are the projecting 
stones, making a flight of precarious steps on each 
side of the wall. 

Except in their lowest and least mountainous 


parts, where they are subject to the influences of 
the plains, the dales are entirely innocent of red 
tiles and haystacks. The roots of churches, cottages, 
bams and mansions, are always of the local stone, 
that weathers to beautiful shades of green and 
gray, and prevents the works of man from jarring 
with the great sweeping hillsides. Then, instead 
of the &miliar gray-brown haystack, one sees in 
almost every meadow a neatly-built stone house 
with an upper story. The lower part is generally 
used as a shelter for cattle, while above is stored 
hay or straw. By this system a huge amount of 
unnecessary carting is avoided, and where roads 
are few and generally of exceeding steepness a 
saving of this nature is a benefit easily understood. 
Any soldier who served in South Africa during 
the latter part of the war would be struck with 
the advantages that these ready-made block-houses 
would offer if it were ever necessary to round up 
a mobile enemy who had taken refrige among the 
Yorkshire fells. Barbed-wire entanglements, and a 
system of telephones to link them together, would 
be all that was required to convert these stone 
bams into block-houses of a thoroughly useful 
type, for they are already loopholed. 
The villages of the dales, although having none 


of the bright colours of a level country, are often 
exceedingly quaint, and rich in soft shades of green 
and gray. In the autumn the mellowed tints of 
the stone houses are contrasted with the fierce 
yellows and browny-reds of the foliage, and the 
villages become ftill of bright colours. At all times, 
except when the country is shrivelled by an icy 
northern wind, the scenery of the dales has a 
thousand charms. By the edge of fine rivers that 
pour downwards in terraced falls one finds hamlets 
with their church towers, gray and sturdy, and 
the little patch of green shaded by ash-trees, all 
made diminutive by the huge and gaunt hillsides 
that dominate every view. Looking up the dales, 
there are often glimpses of distant heights that in 
their blue silhouettes give a more mountainous 
aspect to the scenery than one might expect 

In some of the valleys, such as Swaledale, the 
nakedness of the yellow-brown hills is clothed with 
a mantle of heavy woods — but enough has been 
said by way of introduction to give some notion of 
the general aspect of the dales, and in the succeeding 
chapters a closer scrutiny can be made. 

The ways of approaching the Dale Country firom 
the south are by means of the Great Northern, 
Midland, or Great Central routes to York, where 


one has all the North-Eastem service to choose 
from. Ribblesdale is traversed by the Midland 
Main Line, so that those who wish to commence 
an exploration of these parts of Yorkshire from 
Settle, Skipton, or Hawes, must travel from 
St. Fancras Station. 





FoK the purposes of this book we may consider 
Richmond as the gateway of the dale country. 
There are other gates and approaches, some of 
which may have advocates who claim their 
superiority over Richmond as starting-places for 
an exploration of this description, but for my 
part, I can find no spot on any side of the moun- 
tainous region so entirely satisfactory. If we were 
to commence at Bedale or Leybum, there is no 
exact point where the open country ceases and the 
dale begins ; but here at Richmond there is not the 
very smallest doubt, for on reaching the foot of 
the mass of rock dominated by the castle and the 
town, Swaledale commences in the form of a 
narrow ravine, and from that point westwards the 
valley never ceases to be shut in by steep sides, 
which become narrower and grander with every 



The railway that keeps Richmond in touch with 
the world does its work in a most inoffensive 
manner, and by running to the bottom of the hill 
on which the town stands, and by there stopping 
short, we seem to have a strong hint that we have 
been brought to the edge of a new element in 
which railways have no rights whatever. This is 
as it should be, and we can congratulate the North- 
Eastem Company for its discretion and its sense 
of fitness. Even the station is built of solid stone- 
work, with a strong flavour of medievalism in its 
design, and its attractiveness is enhanced by the 
complete absence of other modem buildings. We 
are thus welcomed to the charms of Richmond at 
once. The rich sloping meadows by the river, 
crowned with dense woodlands, surround us and 
form a beautiful setting of green for the town, 
which has come down from the fEUitastic days of 
the Norman Conquest without any drastic or un- 
seemly changes, and thus has still the compactness 
and the romantic outline of feudal times. 

By some means Richmond avoided the manu- 
fEu^tories that have entirely altered the character 
of such places as Skipton and Durham, but if we 
wish to see what might have happened or what 
may still befall this town, it is only necessary for 


us to go a little way above the new bridge, and 
there, beneath the castle heights, see one of the 
most conspicuously and unnecessarily ugly gas- 
works that was ever dumped upon a fiur scene. 
I suppose a day will arrive when the Mayor and 
Corporation will lay their heads together with the 
object of devising a plan for the removal of these 
dismal buildings to some site where they will be 
less offensive, but until that day they will continue 
to mar the charms of a town whose situation is 
almost unequalled in this island. 

From whatever side you approach it, Richmond 
has always some fine combination of towers over- 
looking a confusion of old red roofs and of rocky 
heights crowned with ivy-mantled walls, all set in 
the most sumptuous surroundings of silvery river 
and wooded hills, such as the artists of the age of 
steel-engraving loved to depict. Every one of 
these views has in it one dominating feature in 
the magnificent Norman keep of the castle. It 
overlooks church towers and everything else with 
precisely the same aloofness of manner it must 
have assumed as soon as the builders of nearly 
eight hundred years ago had put the last stone in 
place. Externally, at least, it is as complete to- 
day as it was then, and as there is no ivy upon it» 



I cannot help thinking that the Bretons who built 
it in that long-distant time would swell with pride 
were they able to see how their ambitious work 
has come down the centuries unharmed. 

We can go across the modem bridge, with its 
castellated parapets, and climb up the steep ascent 
on the further side, passing on the way the parish 
church, standing on the steep ground outside the 
circumscribed limits of the wall that used to en- 
close the town in early times. Turning towards 
the castle, we go breathlessly up the cobbled street 
that climbs resolutely to the market-place in a 
foolishly direct fashion, which might be understood 
if it were a Roman road. There is a sleepy quiet- 
ness about this way up from the station, which is 
quite a short distance, and we look for much 
movement and human activity in the wide space 
we have reached ; but here, too, on this warm and 
sunny afternoon, the few folks who are about seem 
to find ample time for conversation and loitering. 
At the fiirther end of the great square there are 
some vast tents erected close to the big obelisk 
that forms the market-cross of the present day. 
Quantities of straw are spread upon the cobbles, 
and the youth of Richmond watches with intense 
interest the bulgings of the canvas walls of the 


tents. With this they are obliged to be content 
for a time, but just as we reach this end of the 
square two huge swaying elephants issue forth to 
take their afternoon stroll in company with their 
son, whose height is scarcely more than half that 
of his parents. The children have not waited in 
vain, and they gaze awe-struck at the furrowed 
sides of the slate-gray monsters as they are led, 
slowly padding their way, across the square. We 
watch them as tl^ey pass under the shadow of 
Holy Trinity Church, then out in the sunshine 
again they go lurching past the old-fashioned 
houses until they turn down Frenchgate and dis- 
appear, with the excited but respectful knot of 
children following close behind. 

On one side of us is the King's Head, whose 
steep tiled roof and square front has just that air 
of respectable importance that one expects to find 
in an old-established English hotel. It looks across 
the cobbled space to the curious block of buildings 
that seems to have been intended for a church but 
has relapsed into shops. The shouldering of secular 
buildings against the walls of churches is a sight so 
familiar in parts of France that this market-place 
has an almost Continental flavour, in keeping with 
the &ct that Richmond grew up under the pro- 



tection of the formidable castle built by that Alan 
Rufiis of Brittany who was the Conqueror's second 
cousin. The town ceased to be a possession of the 
Dukes of .Brittany in the reign of Richard II,, 
but there had evidently been sufficient time to 
allow French ideals to percolate into the minds 
of the men of Richmond, for how otherwise can 
we account for this strange familiarity of shops 
with a sacred building which is unheard of in any 
other English town ? Where else can one find a 
pork-butcher's shop inserted between the tower 
and the nave, or a tobacconist doing business in 
the aisle of a church ? Even the lower parts of 
the tower have been given up to secular uses, so 
that one only realizes the existence of the church 
by keeping far enough away to see the sturdy 
pinnacled tower that rises above the desecrated 
lower portions of the building. In this tower 
hangs the curfew-bell, which is rung at 6 a.m. and 
8 p.m., a custom, according to one writer, * that has 
continued ever since the time of William the Con- 
queror.' The bell, we know, is not Norman, and 
the tower belongs to the Perpendicular period, 
but the church is referred to in Norman times, 
and Leland, writing in the reign of Henry VIII., 
suggests an earlier survival. He may, of course. 


be describing Norman grotesque carvings, but, on 
the other hand, he may be recording some relics 
of a more barbarous age when he writes : * There 
is a Chapel in Itichenumt Toune with straung 
Figures in the Waulles of it. The Peple there 
dreme that it was ons [a temple of] Idoles.' I 
wonder if those carved figures were entirely 
destroyed in the days of the Commonwealth, or 
whether they were merely thrown aside during 
some restoration, and are waiting for digging or 
building operations to bring them to light. 

All the while we have been lingering in the 
market-place the great keep has been looking at 
us over some old red roofe, and urging us to go on 
at once to the finest sight that Richmond can 
offer, and, resisting the appeal no longer, we make 
our way down a narrow little street leading out 
to a walk that goes right round the castle cliffs at 
the base of the ivy-draped walls. If this walk 
were at Harrogate or Buxton, we can easily 
imagine that its charms would be vitiated by 
some evidences of a popular recognition of its 
attractiveness. There would be a strong orna- 
mental iron railing on the exposed side of the 
path; there would probably be an automatic- 
machine waiting to supply a souvenir picture 

»— 2 


post-card of the view ; there would be notices — 
most excellent where they are needed — ^requesting 
visitors not to throw paper or orange-peel any- 
where but in the receptacle supplied ; and, besides 
all this, there would, I have no doubt, be orna- 
mental shrubberies, and here and there a few beds 
of flowers, kept with all the neatness of municipal 
horticulture. Such efforts would meet with some 
sort of response on the part of the public, and 
the castle walk would be sufficiently populous to 
prevent anyone from appreciating its charms. No ; 
instead of all this we find a simple asphalt path 
without any fence at alL There are two or three 
seats that are perfectly welcome, but there is a 
delightfril absence of shrubberies or flower-beds, 
and the notices to the public fixed to the castle 
walls are weathered and quite inconspicuous. 
Beyond all this, the castle walk is generally a 
place in which one can be alone, and yet 

* This is not solitude ; 'tis but to hold 
Ck>nverse with Nature^s charms, and see those charms unfold."* 

From down below comes the sound of the river, 
ceaselessly chafing its rocky bottom and the big 
boulders that lie in the way. You can distinguish 
the hollow soimd of the waters as they faU over 
ledges into deep pools, and you can watch the 


This wdl-known view of the castle from the banks 
of the Swale is only one of the numerous romantic 
pictures that can be found in Richmond. The 
great Norman keep, built about the year 1150, forms 
the dominating feature of every aspect of the town. 

N ori- /» 



silvery gleams of broken water between the old 
stone bridge and the dark shade of the woods. 
The masses of trees clothing the side of the gorge 
add a note of mystery to the picture by swallowing 
up the river in their heavy shade, for, owing to 
its sinuous course among the cliffs, one can see 
only a short piece of water beyond the bridge. 

The old comer of the town at the foot of 
Bargate appears over the edge of the rocky slope, 
but on the opposite side of the Swale there is little 
to be seen beside the green meadows and shady 
coppices that cover the heights above the river. 

There is a fascination in this view in its capacity 
for change. It responds to every mood of the 
weather, and every sunset that glows across the 
sombre woods has some freshness, some feature 
that is quite unlike any other. Autumn, too, is 
a memorable time for those who can watch the 
face of Nature from this spot, for when one of 
those opulent evenings of the fall of the year 
turns the sky into a golden sea of glory, studded 
with strange purple islands, there is unutterable 
beauty in the flaming woods and the pale river. 

On the way back to the market-place we pass 
a decayed arch that was probably a postern in 
the walls of the town. There can be no doubt 


whatever of the existence of these walls, for 
Leland begins his description of the town with 
the words * Bichemont Towne is waullid,' and in 
another place he says: ^Waullid it was, but the 
waul is now decayid. The Names and Partes of 
4 or 5 Gates yet remained He also tells us the 
names of some of these gates : * Frenchegate yn the 
North Parte of the Towne, and is the most occupied 
Gate of the Towne. Finkel-streate Gate^ Bargate^ 
all iii be downe.' Leland also details how the 
wall enclosed little beside the market-place, the 
houses adjoining it, and the gardens behind them, 
and that the area occupied by the castle was 
practically the same as that of the town. We 
wonder why Richmond could not have preserved 
her gates as York has done, or why she did not 
even make the ejQbrt sufficient to retain a single 
one, as Bridlington and Beverley did. The two 
posterns — one we have just mentioned, and the 
other in Friar's Wynd, on the north side of the 
market-place, with a piece of wall 6 feet thick 
adjoining — are interesting, but we would have 
preferred something much finer than these mere 
arches ; and while we are grumbling over what 
Richmond has lost, we may also measure the 
disaster which befell the market-place in 1771, 


when the old cross was destroyed. Before that 
year there stood on the site of the present obehsk 
a very fine cross which Clarkson, who wrote about 
a century ago, mentions as being the greatest 
beauty of the town to an antiquary. A high 
flight of steps led up to a square platform, which 
was enclosed by a richly ornamented wall about 
6 feet high, having buttresses at the comers, each 
surmounted with a dog seated on its hind-legs. 
Within the wall rose the cross, with its shaft 
made fix)m one piece of stone. There were * many 
curious compartments ' in the wall, says Clarkson, 
and *a door that opened into the middle of the 
square,' but this may have been merely an arched 
opening. The enrichments, either of the cross itself 
or the wall, included four shields bearing the arms 
of the great families of Fitz-Hugh, Scrope (quarter- 
ing Tibetot), Conyers, and Neville. From the 
description there is little doubt that this cross 
was a very beautiful example of Perpendicular or 
perhaps Decorated Gothic, in place of which we 
have a crude and bulging obelisk bearing the 
inscription: 'Rebuilt (!) a.d. 1771, Christopher 
Wayne, Esq., Mayor'; it should surely have 
read: * Perpetrated during the Mayoralty of 
Christopher Wayne, Goth.' The old cross was 


pulled down 'for particular reasons,' says Clark- 
son, but, even if those reasons had been valid, 
the stones might have been carefully marked, and 
the whole structure could have been rebuilt in 
some other part of the market-place. 

Although, as we have seen, Leland, who wrote 
in 1588, mentions Frenchgate and Finkel Street 
Gate as 'down,' yet they must have been only 
partially destroyed, or were rebuilt afterwards, for 
Whitaker, writing in 1828, mentions that they 
were pulled down * not many years ago ' to allow 
the passage of broad and high-laden waggons. 
There can be little doubt, therefore, that, swollen 
with success after the demolition of the cross, the 
Mayor and Corporation proceeded to attack the 
remaining gateways, so that now not the smallest 
suggestion of either remains. But even here we 
have not completed the list of barbarisms that took 
place about this time. The Barley Cross, which 
stood near the larger one, must have been quite 
an interesting feature. It consisted of a lofty 
pillar with a cross at the top, and rings were 
fastened either on the shaft or to the steps upon 
which it stood, so that the cross might answer the 
purpose of a whipping -post. The pillory stood 
not far away, and the may-pole is also mentioned. 


But despite all this squandering of the treasures 
that it should have been the business of the town 
authorities to preserve, the tower of the Grey 
Friars has survived, and, next to the castle, it is 
one of the chief ornaments of the town- Whitaker 
is by no means sure of the motives that led to its 
preservation — ^perhaps because he knew the Rich- 
mond people too well to expect much of them — 
for he writes: * Taste, however, or veneration, or 
lucky accident, has preserved the great tower of 
the "Freres" of Richmond.' Certainly none of 
these causes saved any other portions of the 
buildings, for the beautiftil Perpendicular tower 
stands quite alone. It is on the north side of the 
town, outside the narrow limits of the walls, and 
was probably only finished in time to witness the 
dispersal of the friars who had built it. It is even 
possible that it was part of a new church that 
was still uicomplete when the Dissolution of the 
Monasteries made the work of no account except 
as building materials for the townsfolk. The 
actual day of the surrender was January 19, 1588, 
and we wonder if Robert Sanderson, the Prior, 
and the fourteen brethren under him, sujffered 
much from the privations that must have attended 
them at that coldest period of the year. At 



one time the friars, being of a mendicant order, 
and inured to hard living and scanty fare, might 
have made light of such a disaster, but in these 
later times they had expanded somewhat from 
their austere ways of living, and the dispersal 
must have cost them much suffering. Almost in 
this actual year Leland writes of * their Howse, 
Medow, Orchard, and a litle Wood,' which he 
mentions as being walled in, and, seeing that the 
wall enclosed nearly sixteen acres, it appears 
probable that the gray-cloaked men can scarcely 
have been ignorant of all the luxuries of life. 
Notwithstanding this, they stoutly reftised to 
acknowledge the King's supremacy, and suffered 

Going back to the reign of Henry VII. or 
thereabouts, we come across the curious ballad of 
^The Felon Sow of Rokeby and the Freres of 
Richmond ' quoted firom an old manuscript by Sir 
Walter Scott in * Rokeby.' It may have been 
as a practical joke, or merely as a good way of 
getting rid of such a terrible beast, that 

^ Ralph of Rokeby, with goodwill, 
The fryers of Richmond gaver her tilL^ 

Friar Middleton, who with two lusty men was 


sent to fetch the sow from Rokeby, could scarcely 
have known that she was 

' The grisliest beast that ere might be, 
Her head was great and gray : 
She was bred in Rokeby Wood ; 
There were few that thither goed. 
That came on live [=ative] away. 

^ She was so grisley for to meete, 
She rave the earth up with her feete, 
And bark came fro the tree ; 
When fityer Middleton her saugh, 
Weet ye well he might not laugh. 
Full earnestly look'^d hee.^ 

To calm the terrible beast when they found it 
almost impossible to hold her, the friar began to 
read ^ in St. John his Gospell/ but 

^ The sow she would not Latin heaie, 
But rudely rushed at the frear,^ 

who, turning very white, dodged to the shelter 
of a tree, whence he saw with horror that the 
sow had got clear of the other two men. At this 
their courage evaporated, and all three fled for 
their lives along the Watling Street. When they 
came to Richmond and told their tale of the 
* feind of hell ' in the garb of a sow, the warden 
decided to hire on the next day two of the ^ boldest 



men that ever were borne/ These two, Gilbert 
Griffin and a * bastard son of Spaine/ went to 
Rokeby clad in armour and carrying their shields 
and swords of war, and even then they only just 
overcame the grisly sow. They lifted the dead 
brute on to the back of a horse, so that it rested 
across the two panniers, 

^ And to Richmond they did hay : 
When they saw her come. 
They sang merrily Te Deum^ 
The ftyers on that day.' 

If we go across the river by the modem bridge, 
we can see the humble remains of St. Martin's 
Priory standing in a meadow by the railway. The 
ruins consist of part of a Perpendicular tower and 
a Norman doorway. Perhaps the tower was built 
in order that the Grey Friars might not eclipse 
the older foundation, for St. Martin's was a cell 
belonging to St. Mary's Abbey at York, and was 
founded* by Wyman, steward or dapifer to the 
Earl of Richmond about the year 1100, whereas 
the Franciscans in the town owed their establish- 
ment to Radulph Fitz-Ranulph, a lord of Middle- 
ham in 1258. The doorway of St. Martin's, with 
its zigzag mouldings, must be part of Wyman's 
building, but no other traces of it remain. 


Having come back so rapidly to the Norman age, 
we may well stay there for a time while we make 
our way over the bridge again and up the steep 
ascent of Frenchgate to the castle. 

On entering the small outer barbican, which is 
reached by a lane firom the market-place, we come 
to the base of the Norman keep. Its great height 
of nearly 100 feet is quite unbroken from founda- 
tions to summit, and the flat buttresses are feature- 
less. The recent pointing of the masonry has also 
taken away any pronounced weathering, and has 
left the tower with almost the same gaunt appear- 
ance that it had when Duke Conan saw it com- 
pleted. Passing through the arch in the wall 
abutting the keep, we come into the grassy space 
of over two acres, that is enclosed by the ramparts. 
There are some modem quarters for soldiers on the 
western side which we had not noticed before, and 
the grass is levelled in places for lawn tennis, but we 
had not expected to discover imposing views inside 
the waUs, where the advantage of the cliffs is lost. 
We do find, however, architectural details which 
are missing outside. The basement of the keep 
was vaulted in a massive fashion in the Decorated 
period, but the walls are probably those of the first 
Earl Alan, who was the first ^Frenchman' who 


owned the great part of Yorkshire which had 
formerly belonged to Edwin, the Saxon EarL It is 
not definitely known by what stages the keep 
reached its present form, though there is every 
reason to believe that Conan, the fifth Earl of Rich- 
mond, left the tower externally as we see it to-day. 
This puts the date of the completion of the keep 
between 1146 and 1171. The floors are now a 
store for the uniforms and accoutrements of the 
soldiers quartered at Richmond, so that there is 
little to be seen as we climb a staircase in the walls, 
11 feet thick, and reach the battlemented turrets. 
Looking downwards, we gaze right into the 
chimneys of the nearest houses, and we see the 
old roofe of the town packed closely together in 
the shelter of the mighty tower. A few tiny 
people are moving about in the market-place, and 
there is a thin web of drifting smoke between us 
and them. Everything is peaceftil and remote; 
even the sound of the river is lost in the wind 
that blows freely upon us from the great moor- 
land wastes stretching away to the western horizon. 
It is a romantic country that lays around us, and 
though the cultivated area must be infinitely 
greater than in the fighting days when these 
battlements were finished, yet I suppose the Vale 


Fkom this point of view, a great stretch of fertile 
and richly wooded country is seen. The mediaeval- 
looking town, perched on its rocky height above one 
of the deep windings of the Swale, plainly shows how 
its name of the Rich Mount suggested itself. The 
castle keep shows most prominently, but to the left 
of it can be seen the Grey Friar's Tower and thoee 
of the two churches. 

.-; N or 


ASTOR, LENr :'l 


R L 


of Mowbray which we gaze upon to the east 
must have been green, and to some extent fertile, 
when that Conan who was Duke of Brittany and 
also Earl of Richmond looked out over the 
innumerable manors that were his Yorkshire 
possessions. I can imagine his eye glancing down 
on a far more thrilling scene than the green three- 
sided courtyard enclosed by a crumbling gray 
wall, though to him the buildings, the men, and 
every detail that filled the great space, were no 
doubt quite prosaic. It did not thrill him to see 
a man-at-arms cleaning weajjons, when the man 
and his clothes, and even the sword, were as 
modem and everyday as the soldier's wife and 
child that we can see ourselves, but how much 
would we not give for a half an hour of his vision, 
or even a part of a second, with a good camera in 
our hands ? 

Instead of wasting time on vain thoughts of this 
character, it would perhaps be wiser to go down 
and examine the actual remains of these times that 
have survived all the intervening centuries. 

In the lower part of what is called Robin Hood's 
Tower is the Chapel of St. Nicholas, with arcaded 
walls of early Norman date, and a long and narrow 
slit forming the east window. More interesting 


than this is the Norman hall at the south-east 
angle of the walls. It was possibly used as the 
banqueting-room of the castle, and is remark- 
able as being one of the best preserved of the 
Norman halls forming separate buildings that are 
to be found in this country. The hall is roofless, 
but the corbels remain in a perfect state, and the 
windows on each side are well preserved. The 
builder was probably Earl Conan, for the keep 
has details of much the same character. It is 
generally called Scolland's Hall, after the Lord of 
Bedale of that name, who was a sewer or dapifer 
to the first Earl Alan of Richmond. Scolland 
was one of the tenants of the Earl, and under the 
feudal S3rstem of tenure he took part in the regular 
guarding of the castle. 

There is probably much Norman work in various 
parts of the crumbling curtain walls, and at the 
south-west comer a Norman turret is still to be seen. 

Unless the Romans established at Catterick had 
a station there, it seems very probable that before 
the Norman Conquest the actual site of Richmond 
was entirely vacant; for, though the Domesday 
Survey makes mention of one or two names that 
indicate some lost villages in the neighbourhood, 
there are no traces in the town of anything earlier 


than the Norman period. No stones of Saxon 
origin, so far as evidence exists, have come to light 
during any restorations of the churches, and the 
only suggestion of anything pre-Norman is Leland's 
mention of those * idoles ' that were in his time to 
be seen in the walls of Holy Trinity Church. 

For some reason this magnificent position for 
a stronghold was overlooked by the Saxons, the 
seat of their government in this part of York- 
shire being at Gilling, less than three miles to the 
north. The importance of this place, which is now 
nothing more than a village, is shown by the fact 
that it gave its name to the Gillingshire of early 
times as well as to the wapentakes of Gilling 
East and Gilling West. There was no naturally 
defensive site for a castle at Gilling, and the new 
owners of the land familiar with the enormous 
advantages of such sites as Falalse and Domfront 
were not slow to discover the bold clijff above the 
Swale just to the south. Alan Rufus, one of the 
sons of the Duke of Brittany, who received from 
the Conqueror the vast possessions of Earl Edwin, 
was no doubt the founder of Richmond. He 
probably received this splendid reward for his 
services soon after the suppression of the Saxon 
efforts for liberty under the northern Earls. 



William, having crushed out the rebellion in the 
remorseless fashion which finally gave him peace 
in his new possessions, distributed the devas- 
tated Saxon lands among his supporters; thus a 
great part of the earldom of Mercia fell to this 

The site of Richmond was fixed as the new 
centre of power, and the name, with its apparently 
obvious meaning, may date from that time, unless 
the suggested Anglo-Saxon derivation which gives 
it as Rice-munt — ^the hill of rule — ^is correct. After 
this Gilling must soon have ceased to be of any 
account There can be little doubt that the castle 
was at once planned to occupy the whole area 
enclosed by the walls as they exist to-day, although 
the full strength of the place was not realized until 
the time of the fifth Earl, who, as we have seen, 
was most probably the builder of the keep in its 
final form, as well as other parts of the castle. 
Richmond must then have been considered almost 
impregnable, and this may account for the fact 
that it appears to have never been besieged. In 
1174, when William the Lion of Scotland was 
invading England, we are told in Jordan Fantosme's 
Chronicle that Henry II., anxious for the safety 
of the honour of Richmond, and perhaps of its 


custodian as well, asked : * Randulf de Glanvile est- 
il en Richemunt?' The King was in France, his 
possessions were threatened from several quarters, 
and it would doubtless be a rdief to him to know 
that a stronghold of such importance was imder 
the personal command of so able a man as 
Glanville. In July of that year the danger from 
the Scots was averted by a victory at Alnwick, in 
which fight Glanville was one of the chief com- 
manders of the English, and he probably led the 
men of Richmondshire. 

It is a strange thing that Richmond Castle, 
despite its great pre-eminence, should have been 
allowed to become a ruin in the reign of 
Edward III. — a time when castles had obviously 
lost none of the advantages to the barons which 
they had possessed in Norman times. The only 
explanation must have been the divided interests 
of the owners, for, as Dukes of Brittany, as well 
as Earls of Richmond, their English possessions 
were frequently endangered when France and 
England were at war. And so it came about 
that when a Duke of Brittany gave his support 
to the King of France in a quarrel with the 
EngUsh, his possessions north of the Channel 
became Crown property. How such a condition 



of affairs could have continued for so long is 
difficult to understand, but the final severing came 
at last, when the unhappy Bichard II. was on the 
throne of England. The honour of Richmond 
then passed to Ralph Neville, the first Earl of 
Westmoreland, but the title was given to Edmund 
Tudor, whose mother was Queen Catherine, the 
widow of Henry V, Edmund Tudor, as all know, 
married Margaret Beaufort, the heiress of John of 
Gaunt, and died about two months before his wife 
— ^then scarcely fourteen years old — ^gave birth to 
his only son, who succeeded to the throne of 
England as Henry VII. He was Earl of Rich- 
mond from his birth, and it was he who carried 
the name to the Thames by giving it to his splendid 
palace which he built at Shene. Even the ballad 
of * The Lass of Richmond Hill ' is said to come 
from Yorkshire, although it is conunonly con- 
sidered a possession of Surrey. 

Protected by the great castle, there came into 
existence the town of Richmond, which grew and 
flourished. The houses must have been packed 
closely together to provide the numerous people 
with quarters inside the wall which was built to 
protect the place from the raiding Scots. The 
area of the town was scarcely larger than the 


castle, and although in this way the inhabitants 
gained security fixim one danger, they ran a greater 
risk from a far more insidious foe, which took the 
form of pestilences of a most virulent character. 
After one of these visitations the town of Rich- 
mond would be left in a pitiable plight. Many 
houses would be deserted, and fields became * over- 
run with briars, nettles, and other noxious weeds.' 

There is a record of the desolation and misery 
that was foimd to exist in Richmond during the 
reign of Edward III. A plague had carried oft 
about 2,000 people ; the Scots, presumably before 
the building of the wall, had by their inroads added 
to the distress in the town, and the castle was in 
such a state of dilapidation as to be worth nothing 
a year. In the thirteenth century Richmond had 
been the mart of a very large district It was 
a great centre for the distribution of com, and 
goods were brought from Lancashire, Westmore- 
land, and Cumberland to be sold in the market on 
Saturdays, ^uch an extensive trade produced a 
large class of burgesses, merchants, and craftsmen, 
who were sufficiently numerous to form themselves 
into no less than thirteen separate guilds. There 
were the mercers, grocers, and haberdashers united 
into one company ; the glovers and skinners, who 


combined under the name of fellmongers. There 
were the butchers, tailors, tanners, blacksmiths, and 
cappers, who kept themselves apart as distinct 
companies ; and the remaining nineteen trades 
were massed together in six guilds, such ill- 
assorted people as drapers, vintners, and surgeons 
going together. With various charters, giving 
all sorts of rights and immunities, these companies 
survived the disasters which befell the place, 
I although the growth of other market towns, such 
I as Bedale, Masham, and Middleham, undermined 
their position, and sometimes gave rise to loud 
complaints and petitions to be eased of the pay- 
ments by which the citizens held their charter. 
With keen competition to contend against, the 
poor Richmond folk must have thought their lot 
a miserable one when a fresh pestilential scoiu'ge 
was inflicted upon them. 

The first death took place on August 17, 1597, 
when Roger Sharp succumbed to a disease which 
spread with such rapidity that by December 15 in 
the following year 1,050 had died within the parish, 
and altogether there were 2,200 deaths in the rural 
deanery of Richmond. This plague was by no 
means confined to Richmond, and so great was the 
mortality that the assizes at Diu*ham were hot held. 


and business generally in the northern parts of 
England was paralyzed. 

In the Civil War the town was spared the 
disaster of a siege, perhaps because the castle was 
not in a proper state for defence. If fighting had 
occurred, there is little doubt that the keep would 
have been partially wrecked, as at Scarborough, 
and Richmond would have lost the distinction of 
possessing such an imposing feature. 

As soon as one digs down a little into the story 
of a town with so rich a history as this, it is 
tantalizing not to go deeper. One would like to 
study every record that throws light on the events 
that were associated with the growth of both the 
castle and the town, so that one might discard the 
mistakes of the earlier writers and build up such 
a picture of feudal times as few places in England 
could equal. Richmond of to-day is so silent, so 
lacking in pageantry, that one must needs go to 
some lonely spot, and there dream of all the semi- 
barbarous splendours that the old walls have looked 
down upon when the cement between the great 
stones still bore the marks of the masons' trowels. 
One thinks of the days when the occupants of the 
castle were newly come from Brittany, when an 
alien tongue was heard on this diif above the 


Swale, even as had happened when the riverside 
echoes had had to accustom themselves to an 
earlier change when Romans had laughed and 
talked on the same spot. The men one dreams 
of are wearing suits of chain mail, or are in the 
dress so quaintly drawn in the tapestry at Bayeux, 
and they have brought with them their wives, their 
servants, and even their dogs. Thus Richmond 
began as a foreign town, and the folks ate and 
drank and slept as they had always done before 
they left France. Much of this alien blood was no 
doubt absorbed by the already mixed Anglo-Saxon 
and Danish population of Yorkshire, and perhaps, 
if his descent could be traced, one would find that 
the passer-by who has just disturbed our dreaming 
has Breton blood in his veins. 

Easby Abbey is so much a possession of Rich- 
mond that we cannot go towards the mountains 
until we have seen something of its charms. The 
ruins slumber in such unutterable peace by the 
riverside that the place is well suited to our mood 
to go a-dreaming of the centuries which have 
been so long dead that our imaginations are not 
cumbered with any of the dull times that may 
have often set the canons of St. Agatha's yawning. 
The walk along the steep shady bank above the 


river is beautiful all the way, and the surroundings 
of the broken walls and traeeried windows are 
singularly rich. There is nothing, however, at 
Easby that makes a striking pictiure, although 
there are many architeetiu'al fragments that are 
fiill of beauty. Fountains, Rievaulx and Tintem, 
all leave Easby far behind, but there are charms 
enough here with which to be content, and it 
is, perhaps, a pleasant thought to know that, 
although on this sunny afternoon these meadows 
by the Swale seem to reach perfection, yet in 
the neighboiu*hood of Ripon there is something 
still finer waiting for us. Of the abbey church 
scarcely more than enough has survived for the 
preparation of a ground-plan, and many of the 
evidences are now concealed by the grass. The 
range of domestic buildings that siurounded the 
cloister garth are, therefore, the chief interest, 
although these also are broken and roofless. We 
can wander among the ivy-grown walls which, in 
the refectory, retain some semblance of their original 
form, and we can see the pictiu*esque remains of the 
common-room, the guest -hall, the chapter-house, 
and the sacristy. Beyond the ruins of the north 
transept, a corridor leads into the infirmary, which, 
besides having an unusual position, is remarkable 



as being one of the most complete groups of 
buildings set apart for this object. A noticeable 
feature of the cloister garth is a Norman arch 
belonging to a doorway that appears to be of later 
date. This is probably the only survival of the 
first monastery founded, it is said, by Roald, 
Constable of Richmond Castle in 1152. Building 
of an extensive character was, therefore, in progress 
at the same time in these sloping meadows, as 
on the castle heights, and St. Martin's Priory, 
close to the town, had not long been completed. 
Whoever may have been the foimder of the abbey, 
it is definitely known that the great family of 
Scrope obtained the privileges that had been 
possessed by the constable, and they added so 
much to the property of the monastery that in 
the reign of Henry VIII. the Scropes were con- 
sidered the original founders. Easby thus became 
the stately burjring-place of the family, and the 
splendid tombs that appeared in the choir of their 
church were a constant reminder to the canons of 
the greatness of the lords of Bolton. Sir Henry 
le Scrope was buried beneath a great stone effigy, 
bearing the arms — azure, a bend or — of his house. 
Near by lay Sir William le Scrope's armed figure, 
and round about were many others of the family 


buried beneath flat stones. We know this from 
the statement of an Abbot of Easby in the four- 
teenth century ; and but for the record of his words 
there would be nothing to tell us anything of 
these ponderous memorials, which have disappeared 
as completely as though they had had no more 
permanence than the yellow leaves that are just 
beginning to flutter from the trees. The splendid 
chiu-ch, the tombs, and even the very family of 
Scrope, have disappeared; but across the hills, in 
the valley of the Ure, their castle still stands, and in 
the little chiu-ch of Wensley there can still be seen 
the parclose screen of Perpendicular date that one 
of the Scropes must have rescued when the 
monastery was being stripped and plimdered. 

The fine gatehouse of Easby Abbey, which is 
in a good state of preservation, stands a little to 
the east of the parish church, and the granary is 
even now in use. 

On the sides of the parvise over the porch of the 
parish church are the arms of Scrope, Conyers, 
and Aske; and in the chancel of this extremely 
interesting old building there can be seen a series 
of wall-paintings, some of which probably date 
from the reign of Henry III. This would make 
them earlier than those at Pickering. 





There is a certain elevated and wind-swept spot, 
scarcely more than a long mile from Richmond, 
that commands a view over a wide extent of 
romantic country. Vantage-points of this type, 
within easy reach of a fair-sized town, are inclined 
to be overrated, and, what is far worse, to be spoiled 
by the litter of picnic parties ; but Whitcliffe 
Scar is free from both objections. In magnificent 
September weather one may spend many hours in 
the midst of this great panorama without being 
disturbed by a single human being, besides a pos 
sible farm labourer or shepherd ; and if scraps of 
paper and orange-peel are ever dropped here, the 
keen winds that come from across the moors dispose 
of them as efficaciously as the keepers of any public 

The view is removed from a comparison with 
many others from the fact that one is situated at 



the dividing-line between the richest cultivation 
and the wildest moorlands. WhitclifFe Scar is the 
Mount Pisgah fix)m whence the jaded dweller in 
towns can gaze into a promised land of solitude, 

^ Where things that own not man^s dominion dwell. 
And mortal foot hath ne^er or rarely been/ 

The eastward view of green and smiling country 
is undeniably beautifid, but to those who can 
appreciate Byron's enthusiasm for the trackless 
mountain there is something more indefinable and 
inspiring in the mysterious loneliness of the west. 
The long, level lines of the moorland horizon, when 
the sun is beginning to climb downwards, are cut 
out in the softest blue and mauve tints against the 
shunmering transparency of the western sky, and 
the plantations that clothe the sides of the dale 
beneath one are filled with wonderful shadows, 
which are thrown out with golden outlines. The 
view along the steep valley extends for a few miles, 
and then is suddenly cut off by a sharp bend where 
the Swale, a silver ribbon along the bottom of the 
dale, disappears among the sombre woods and 
the shoulders of the hills. 

In this aspect of Swaledale one sees its mildest 
and most civilized mood; for beyond the purple 


The view is taken from a spot just above Richmond, 
known as Willance's Leap. One is looking due 
west, with the high mountains of Craven just beyond 
the blue plateau. 


PUBLIC Library! 


a 1 


hillside that may be seen in the illustration, cultiva- 
tion becomes more palpably a struggle, and the 
gaunt moors, broken by lines of precipitous scars, 
assume control of the scenery. 

From 200 feet below, where the river is flowing 
along its stony bed, comes the sound of the waters 
ceaselessly grinding the pebbles, and from the green 
pastures there floats upwards a distant ba-baaing. 
No railway has penetrated the solitudes of Swale- 
dale, and, as far as one may look into the future in 
such matters, there seems every possibility of this 
loneliest and grandest of the Yorkshire dales retain- 
ing its isolation in this respect. None but the 
simplest of sounds, therefore, are borne on the 
keen winds that come from the moorland heights, 
and the purity of the air whispers in the ear the 
pleasing message of a land where chimneys have 
never been. 

Besides the original name of Whitclifie Scar» 
this remarkable view-point has, since 1606, been 
popularly known as *Willance's Leap.' In that 
year a certain Robert Willance, whose father appears 
to have been a successful draper in Richmond, 
was hunting in the neighbourhood, when he found 
himself enveloped in a fog. It must have been 
sufficiently dense to shut out even the nearest 



objects ; for, without any warning, Willance found 
himself on the verge of the scar, and before he 
could check his horse both were precipitated over 
the clifF, We have no detailed account of whether 
the fall was broken in any way ; but, although his 
horse was killed instantly, Willance, by some almost 
miraculous good fortune, found himself alive at 
the bottom with nothing worse than a broken leg. 
Such a story must have been the talk of the whole 
of the Dale Country for months after the event, 
and it is in no way surprising that the spot should 
have become permanently associated with the rider's 
name. He certainly felt grateftd for his astonishing 
escape, despite the amputation of the broken limb ; 
for, besides the erection of some inscribed stones 
that still mark the position of his fall fix)m the 
cliff, Willance, in order to further conunemorate 
the event, presented the Corporation of Richmond 
with a silver cup, which remains in the possession 
of the town. 

Turning back towards Richmond, the contrast 
of the gently-rounded contours and the rich cul- 
tivation gives the landscape the appearance of a 
vast garden. One can see the great Norman keep 
of the castle dwarfing the church towers, and the 
red -roofed houses that cluster so picturesquely 


under its shelter. The afternoon sunlight floods 
everything with its generous glow, and the shadows 
of the trees massed on the hill-slopes are singularly 
blue. At the bottom of the valley the Swale 
abandons its green meadows for a time, and dis- 
appears into the deep and leafy gorge that adds so 
much to the charm of Richmond. Beyond the 
town the course of the river can be traced as it 
takes its way past Easby Abbey and the sunny 
slopes crowned with woods that go down on either 
side to its sparkling waters, until the level plain 
confuses every feature in a maze of hedgerow and 
coppice that loses itself in the hazy horizon. 

It is a difficult matter to decide which is the 
more attractive means of exploring Swaledale ; for 
if one keeps to the road at the bottom of the valley 
many beautifiil and remarkable aspects of the 
country are missed, and yet if one goes over the 
moors it is impossible to really explore the recesses 
of the dale. The old road from Richmond to Reeth 
avoids the dale altogether, except for the last mile, 
and its ups and its downs make the traveller pay 
handsomely for the scenery by the way.\|But this 
ought not to deter anyone from using the road; 
for the view of the village of Marske, cosily situate 
among the wooded heights that rise above the 



beck, is missed by those who keep to the new 
road along the banks of the Swale. The romantic 
seclusion of this village is accentuated towards 
evening, when a shadowy stillness fills the hollows. 
The higher woods may be still glowing with the 
light of the golden west, while down below a soft- 
ness of outline adds beauty to every object. The 
old bridge that takes the road to Reeth across 
Marske Beck needs no such fault-forgiving light, 
for it was standing in the reign of Elizabeth, and, 
from its appearance, it is probably centiuies older. 
There used to be a quaint little mill close to the 
bridge, but this was, unfortunately, swept away 
when some alterations were being made in the 
surroundings of Marske Hall, a seat of the Huttons. 
It was one of this family, in whose hands the manor 
of Marske has remained for over 800 years, to 
whom the idea occurred of converting what was 
formerly a precipitous ravine, with bare rocky scars 
on either side, into the heavily wooded and romantic 
spot one finds to-day. Beyond the beautifying of 
this little branch valley of Swaledale, the Huttons 
are a notable family in having produced two Arch- 
bishops. They both bore the same name of Matthew 
Hutton. The first, who is mentioned by Thomas 
Fuller in his * Worthies ' as * a learned Prelate,' was 


raised to the Archbishopric of York from Durham 
in 1594. This Matthew Hutton seems to have 
found favour with Elizabeth, for, beyond his rapid 
progress in the Church, there is still preserved in 
Marske Hall a gold cup presented to him by the 
Queen.* The second Archbishop was promoted 
fix>m Bangor to York, and finally to Canterbury in 

Rising above the woods near Marske Hall there 
appears a tall obelisk, put up to the memory of 
Captain Matthew Hutton about a century ago, 
when that tjrpe of memorial had gained a prodigious 
popularity. An obelisk towering above a planta- 
tion can scarcely be considered an attractive feature 
in a landscape, for its outline is too strongly sugges- 
tive of a mine-shaft ; but how can one hope to find 
beauty in any of the architectural efforts of a period 
that seems to have been dead to art ? 

The new road to Reeth fix)m Richmond goes 
down at an easy gradient from the town to the 
banks of the river, which it crosses when abreast 
of Whitcliffe Scar, the view in front being at first 
much the same as the nearer portions of the dale 
seen from that height. Down on the left, however, 
there are some chimney-shafts, so recklessly black 

♦ Murray. 


that they seem to be no part whatever of their 
sumptuous natural surroundings, and might ahnost 
suggest a nightmare in which one discovered that 
some of the vilest chimneys of the Black Country 
had taken to touring in the beauty spots of the 

As one goes westward, the road penetrates right 
into the bold scenery that invites exploration when 
viewed from * Willance's Leap.' There is a Scottish 
feeling — perhaps Alpine would be more correct — 
in the steeply-falling sides of the dale, all clothed 
in firs and other dense plantations ; and just where 
the Swale takes a decided turn towards the south 
there is a view up Marske Beck that adds much to 
the romance of the scene. Behind one's back the 
side of the dale rises like a dark green wall entirely 
in shadow, and down below, half buried in foliage, 
the river swirls and laps its gravelly beaches, also 
in shadow. Beyond a strip of pastiu*e begin 
the tumbled masses of trees which, as they climb 
out of the depths of the valley, reach the warm, 
level rays of sunlight that turns the first leaves 
that have passed their prime into the fierce yellows 
and biu*nt siennas which, when faithfully represented 
at Burlington House, are often considered overdone. 
Even the gaunt obelisk near Marske Hall responds 


to a fine sunset of this sort, and shows a gilded 
side that gives it ahnost a touch of grandeiu*. 

Evening is by no means necessary to the attrac- 
tions of Swaledale, for a blazing noon gives lights 
and shades and contrasts of colour that are a large 
portion of Swaledale's charms. If instead of taking 
either the old road by way of Marske, or the new 
one by the riverside, one had crossed the old bridge 
below the castle, and left Richmond by a very 
steep road that goes to Leybum, one would have 
reached a moorland that is at its best in the ftdl 
light of a clear morning. The road goes through 
the gray little village of Hudswell, which possesses 
some half-destroyed cottages that give it a forlorn 
and even pathetic character. As one goes on 
towards the open plateau of Downholme Moor, a 
sense of keen regret will force itself upon the mind ; 
for here, in this gloriously healthy air, there are 
cottages in excess of the demand, and away in the 
great centres of laboiu*, where the atmosphere is 
lifeless and smoke - begrimed, overcrowding is a 
perpetual evil. Perhaps the good folks who might 
have been dwelling in Hudswell, or some other 
breezy village, prefer their surroundings in some 
gloomy street in Sheffield ; perhaps those who lived 
in these broken little homes died long ago, and 


there are none who sigh for space and air after the 

fashion of caged larks ; perhaps But we have 

reached a gate now, and when we are through it 
and out on the bare brown expanse, with the *wide 
horizons beckoning ' on every side, the wind carries 
away every gloomy thought, and leaves in its place 
one vast optimism, which is, I suppose, the joy of 
living, and one of God's best gifts to man. 

The clouds are big, but they carry no threat of 
rain, for right down to the far horizon from 
whence this wind is coming there are patches of 
blue proportionate to the vast spaces overhead. As 
each white mass passes across the sun, we are 
immersed in a shadow many acres in extent; but 
the sunlight has scarcely fled when a rim of light 
comes over the edge of the plain, just above the 
hollow where Downholme village lies hidden from 
sight, and in a few minutes that belt of sunshine 
has reached some sheep not far off, and rinmied 
their coats with a brilliant edge of white. Shafts 
of whiteness, like searchlights, stream from behind 
a distant cloud, and everywhere there is brilliant 
contrast and a purity to the eye and lungs that 
only a Yorkshire moor possesses. 

Making oiu* way along a grassy track, we cross 
the heather and bent, and go down an easy 


" Wide horizons beckoning, far beyond the hill, 

Greatness overhead, 
The flock's contented tread 
An' trample o' the morning wind adown the open 

H. H. Bashford. 


PUBLIC Library! 



slope towards the gray roofs of Downholme. The 
situation is pretty, and there is a triangular green be- 
yond the inn ; but, owing to the church being some 
distance away, the village seems to lack in features. 

A short two miles up the road to Leybum, just 
above Gill Beck, there is an ancient house known 
as Walbum Hall, and also the remains of the 
chapel belonging to it, which dates from the Per- 
pendicular period. The buildings are now used as 
a feurm, but there are still enough suggestions of a 
dignified past to revivify the times when this was 
a centre of feudal power. Although the archi- 
tecture is not Norman, there is a fragment in one 
of the walls that seems to indicate an earlier house 
belonging to the Walburns, for one of them — 
Wjmier de Walbum — ^held a certain number of 
oxgangs of land there in 1286. 

Turning back to Swaledale by a lane on the 
south side of Gill Beck, Downholme village is 
passed a mile away on the right, and the bold 
scenery of the dale once more becomes impressive. 
The sunshine has entirely gone now, and, although 
there are still some hours of daylight left, the 
ponderous masses of blue-gray cloud that have 
slowly spread themselves frx)m one horizon to the 
other have caused a gloom to take the place of the 



morning's dazzling sunshine. When we get lower 
down, and have a glimpse of the Swale over the 
hedge, a most imposing scene is suddenly visible. 
We would have illustrated it here, but the Dale 
Country is so prolific in its noble views that a 
selection of twenty pictures must of pure necessity 
do injustice to the many scenes it omits. 

Two great headlands, formed by the wall-like 
terminations of Cogden and Harkerside Moors, 
rising one above the other, stand out magnificently. 
Their huge sides tower up nearly a thousand feet 
fix)m the river, until they are within reach of the 
lowering clouds that every moment threaten to 
envelop them in their indigo embrace. There 
is a curious rift in the dark cumulus revealing 
a thin line of dull carmine that frequently changes 
its shape and becomes nearly obliterated, but its 
presence in no way weakens the awesomeness of 
the picture. The dale appears to become huger 
and steeper as the clouds thicken, and what have 
been merely woods and plantations in this heavy 
gloom become mysterious forests. The river, too, 
seems to change its character, and become a pale 
serpent, uncoiling itself from some mountain fest- 
ness where no living creatiures, besides great auks 
and carrion birds, dwell. 


In such surroundings as these there were estab- 
lished in the Middle Ages two religious houses, 
within a mile of one another, on opposite sides of 
the swirling river. On the north bank, not far 
from Marriek village, you may still see the ruins of 
Marrick Priory in its beautifrd situation much as 
Turner painted it a century ago. Leland describes 
Marrick as *a Priory of Blake Nunnes of the 
Foundation of the Askes.' It was, we know, an 
establishment for Benedictine Nuns, founded or 
endowed by Roger de Aske in the twelfth century. 
At EUerton, on the other side of the river a little 
lower down, the nunnery was of the Cistercian 
Order ; for, although very little of its history has 
been discovered, Leland writes of the house as * a 
Priori of White clothid Nunnes.' After the Battle 
of Bannockbum, when the Scots raided all over 
the North Riding of Yorkshire, they came along 
Swaledale in search of plunder, and we are told 
that EUerton suffered from their violence. The 
ruins that witnessed these scenes remain most 
provokingly silent, and Heaven knows if they ever 
echoed to the cries of the defenceless nuns or the 
coarse laughter of the Scots, for the remains tell us 
nothing at alL 

Where the dale becomes wider, owing to the 



branch valley of Arkengarthdale, there are two 
villages close together. Grinton is reached first, 
and is older than Reeth, which is a short distance 
north of the river. The parish of Grinton is one 
of the largest in Yorkshire. It is more than twenty 
miles long, containing something near 50,000 acres, 
and according to Mr. Speight, who has written a 
very detailed history of Richmondshire, more than 
80,000 acres of this consist of mountain, grouse- 
moor, and scar. For so huge a parish the church 
is suitable in size, but in the upper portions of the 
dales one must not expect any very remarkable 
exteriors ; and Grinton, with its low roofs and plain 
battlemented tower, is much like other churches in 
the neighbourhood. Inside there are suggestions 
of a Norman building that has passed away, and 
the bowl of the font seems also to belong to that 
period. The two chapels opening from the chancel 
contain some interesting features, which include a 
hagioscope, and both are enclosed by old screens. 

Leaving the village behind, and crossing the 
Swale, you soon come to Reeth, which may, 
perhaps, be described as a little town. It must 
have thrived with the lead-mines in Arkengarth- 
dale and along the Swale, for it has gone back 
since the period of its former prosperity, and is 


glad of the fact that its splendid situation, and the 
cheerful green which the houses look upon, have 
made it something of a holiday resort, although 
it still retains its grajmess and its simplicity, both 
of which may be threatened if a red-roofed hotel 
were to make its appearance, the bare thought of 
which is an anxiety to those who appreciate the 
soft colours of the locality. 

When Reeth is left behind, there is no more of 
the fine * new ' road which makes travelling so easy 
for the eleven miles from Richmond. The surface 
is, however, by no means rough along the nine 
miles to Muker, although the scenery becomes far 
wilder and more mountainous with every mile. 
The dale narrows most perceptibly; the woods 
become widely separated, and almost entirely dis- 
appear on the southern side ; and the gaunt moors, 
creeping down the sides of the valley, seem to 
threaten the narrow belt of cultivation, that becomes 
increasingly restricted to the river margins. Pre- 
cipitous limestone scars fringe the browny-green 
heights in many places, and almost girdle the 
summit of Calver Hill, the great bare height that 
rises a thousand feet above Reeth. The farms and 
hamlets of these upper parts of Swaledale are of 
the same grays, greens, and browns as the moors 


and scars that surround them. The stone walls, 
that are often high and forbidding, seem to 
suggest the fortifications required for man's fight 
with Nature, in which there is no encouragement 
for the weak. In the splendid weather that so 
often welcomes the mere summer rambler in the 
upper dales the austerity of the widely scattered 
fiums and villages may seem a little unaccountable ; 
but a visit in January would quite remove this 
impression, though even in these lofty parts of 
England the worst winter snowstorm has, in quite 
recent years, been of trifling inconvenience. Bad 
winters will, no doubt, be experienced again on the 
fells ; but leaving out of the account the snow that 
used to bury farms, flocks, roads, and even the 
smaller gills, in a vast smother of whiteness, there 
are still the winds that go shrieking over the desolate 
heights, there is still the high rainfall, and there 
are still destructive thunderstorms that bring with 
them hail of a size that we seldom encouinter in 
the lower levels. Mr. Lockwood records a remark- 
able storm near Sedbergh in which there were only 
three flashes. The first left senseless on the grouind 
two brothers who were tending sheep, the second 
killed three cows that were sheltering under an 
oak, and the third unroofed a large portion of a 


bam and split up two trees. In this case the 
ordinary conditions of thunderstorms would seem 
to have been reversed, the electric discharge taking 
place from the earth to the clouds; otherwise, it 
is hard to accoimt for such destruction with each 

The great rapidity with which the Swale, or such 
streams as the Arkle, can produce a devastating 
flood can scarcely be comprehended by those who 
have hot seen the results of even moderate rain- 
storms on the fells. When, however, some really 
wet days have been experienced in the upper parts 
of the dales, it seems a wonder that the bridges are 
not more often in jeopardy. Long lines of pale- 
gray clouds, with edges so soft that they almost 
coalesce, come pressing each other on to the bare 
heights, and, almost before one mass has trans- 
formed itself into silvery streaks on the fellsides, 
there are others pouring down on their emaciated 

Of course, even the highest hills of Yorkshire 
are surpassed in wetness by their Lakeland neigh- 
bours ; for whereas Hawes Junction, which is only 
about seven miles south of Muker, has an average 
yearly rainfall of about 62 inches, Mickleden, in 
Westmoreland, can show 187, and certain spots in 


Cumberland aspire towards 200 inches in a year. 
No figures seem to exist for Swaledale, but in the 
lower parts of Wensleydale the rainfall is only half 
of what has been given for Hawes, which stands at 
the head of that valley. 

The weather conditions being so severe, it is not 
surprising to find that no com at all is grown in 
Swaledale at the present day. Some notes, found 
in an old family Bible in Teesdale, are quoted by 
Mr. Joseph Morris. They show the painM diffi- 
culties experienced in the eighteenth century fix)m 
such entries as : * 1782. I reaped oats for John 
Hutchinson, when the field was covered with snow,' 
and 2 * 1799, Nov. 10. Much com to cut and carry. 
A hard fi-ost' 

Muker, notwithstanding all these climatic difficul- 
ties, has some claim to picturesqueness, despite the 
fact that its church is better seen at a distance, for 
a close inspection reveals its rather poverty-stricken 
state. The square tower, so typical of the dales, 
stands well above the weathered roofs of the village, 
and there are sufficient trees to tone down the severi- 
ties of the stone walls, that are inclined to make one 
house much like its neighbour, and but for natural 
surroimdings would reduce the hamlets to the same 
uniformity. At Muker, however, there is a steep 


bridge and a rushing mountain stream that joins the 
Swale just below. The road keeps close to this beck, 
and the houses are thus restricted to one side of 
the way. There is a bright and cheerful appearance 
about the Farmers' Arms, the small inn that stands 
back a little from the road with a cobbled space in 
front. Inside you may find a grandfather clock by 
Pratt of Askrigg in Wensleydale, a portrait of Lord 
Kitchener, and a good square meal of the ham and 
^gs and tea order. 

Away to the south, in the direction of the 
Buttertubs Pass, is Stags Fell, 2,218 feet above the 
sea, and something like 1,800 feet above Muker. 
Northwards, and towering over the village, is the 
isolated mass of Kisdon Hill, on two sides of which 
the Swale, now a mountain stream, rushes and boils 
among boulders and ledges of rock. This is one 
of the finest portions of the dale, and, although the 
road leaves the river and passes round the western 
side of Kisdon, there is a path that goes through 
the glen, and brings one to the road again at 

Just before you reach Keld, the Swale drops 
80 feet at Kisdon Force, and after a night of rain 
there are many other waterfalls to be seen in this 
district These are not to me, however, the chief 



attractions of the head of Swaledale, although with- 
out the angry waters the gills and narrow ravines 
that open from the dale would lose much interest. 
It is the stem grandeur of the scarred hillsides and 
the wide mountainous views from the heights that 
give this part of Yorkshire such a fascination. If 
you climb to the top of Rogan's Seat, you have a 
huge panorama of desolate country spread out before 
you. The confused jumble of blue-gray mountains 
to the north-west is beyond the limits of Yorkshire 
at last, and in their strong embrace those stem 
Westmoreland hills hold the charms of Lakeland. 
Down below is the hamlet of Keld, perched in an 
almost Swiss fsushion on a sharply-falling hillside, 
and among the surrounding masses of heaving moor 
are the birthplaces of the dozen becks that supply 
the headwaters of the Swale. These nearer hills, 
which include High Seat and the Lady's Pillar, 
form the watershed of this part of the Yorkshire 
border ; for on the western slopes are to be found 
the sources of the river Eden that flows through 
the beautiful valley, which is one of the greatest 
charms of the Midland route to Scotland. 

If one stays in this mountainous region, there 
are new and exciting walks available for every day. 
There are gloomy recesses in the hillsides that 


encourage exploration from the knowledge that 
they are not tripper-worn, and there are endless 
heights to be climbed that are equally free from 
the smallest traces of desecrating mankind. Rare 
flowers, ferns, and mosses flourish in these inacces- 
sible solitudes, and will continue to do so, on account 
of the dangers that lurk in their fastnesses, and also 
from the fact that their value is nothing to any but 
those who are glad to leave them growing where 
they are. You can look down into shadowy chasms 
in the limestone, where underground waters fall 
splashing with a hollow souind upon black shimmer- 
ing rocks far below, or, stranger still, into subter- 
ranean pools from which the waters overflow into 
yet greater depths. You can follow the moimtain 
streams through wooded ravines, and discover 
cascades and waterfalls that do not appear in any 
maps, and you may leave them by the rough tracks 
that climb the hillsides when you, perchance, have 
a longing for space and the sparkling clearness of 
the moorland air. 





The approach from Muker to the upper part of 
Wensleydale is by a mountain road that can 
claim a grandeur which, to those who have never 
explored the dales, might almost seem impossible. 
I have called it a road, but it is, perhaps, question- 
able whether this is not too high-sounding a term 
for a track so invariably covered with large loose 
stones and fiirrowed with water-courses. At its 
highest point the road goes through the Butter- 
tubs Pass, taking the traveller to the edge of the 
pot-holes that have given their name to this 
thrilling way through the mountain ridge dividing 
the Swale from the Ure. 

Such a lonely and dangerous road should no 
doubt be avoided at night, but yet I am always 
gratefid for the delays which made me so late that 
darkness came on when I was at the highest 
portion of the pass. It was late in September, and 



it was the day of the feast at Hawes, which had 
drawn to that small town fiurmers and their wives, 
and most, if not all, the young men and maidens 
within a considerable radius. I made my way 
slowly up the long ascent from Muker, stumbling 
frequently on the loose stones and in the water- 
worn runnels that were scarcely visible in the dim 
twilight. The huge, bare shoulders of the fells 
began to close in more and more as I climbed. 
Towards the west lay Great Shunnor Fell, its vast 
brown-green mass being sharply defined against 
the clear evening sky ; while further away to the 
north-west there were blue mountains going to 
sleep in the soft mistiness of the distance. Then 
the road made a sudden zigzag, but went on 
climbing more steeply than ever, until at last I 
found that the stony track had brought me to the 
verge of a precipice. There was not sufficient light 
to see what dangers lay beneath me, but I could 
hear the angry sound of a beck feilling upon 
quantities of bare rocks. At the edge of the road 
the ground curved away in an insidious manner 
without any protecting bank, and I instinctively 
drew towards the inner side of the way, fearing 
lest a stumble among the stones that still covered 
the road might precipitate me into the gorge 


The Butter-tubs are some deep pot-holes in the 
limestone that lie just by the high stony road that 

foes from Hawes in Wensleydale to Muker in 





below, where, even if one survived the fall, there 
would be every opportunity of succumbing to one's 
injuries before anyone came along the beck side. 
The place is, indeed, so lonely that I can quite 
believe it possible that a man might die there 
and be reduced to a whitened skeleton before dis- 
covery. Of course, one might be lucky enough to 
be found by a shepherd, or some sheepdog might 
possibly come after wanderers from a flock that 
had found their way to this grim recess ; but then, 
everyone is not equally on good terms with that 
jade Fortune, and to such folk I offer this word of 
caution. But here I have only commenced the 
dangers of this pass, for if one does not keep to 
the road, there is on the other side the still greater 
menace of the Buttertubs, the dangers of which 
are too well known to require any emphasis of 
mine. Those pot-holes which have been explored 
with much labour, and the use of winches and 
tackle and a great deal of stout rope, have revealed 
in their cavernous depths the bones of sheep that 
disappeared from flocks which have long since 
become mutton. This road is surely one that 
would have afforded wonderftil illustrations to the 
* Pilgrim's Progress,' for the track is steep and 
narrow and painfully rough ; dangers lie on either 



side, and safety can only be found by keeping in 
the middle of the road. 

What must have been the thoughts, I wonder, 
of the dalesmen who on different occasions had to 
go over the pass at night in those still recent times 
when wraithes and hobs were terrible realities? 
In the parts of Yorkshire where any records of the 
apparitions that used to enliven the dark nights 
have been kept, I find that these awesome 
creatures were to be found on every moor, and 
perhaps some day in my reading I shall dis- 
cover an account of those that haunted this pass. 
Perhaps a considerate Providence has kept me 
from the knowledge of the form these spirits 
assume in this particular spot, for the reason I 
will recount. I had reached the portion of the 
road where it goes so recklessly along the edge of 
the precipitous scars, when, far away on the gloomy 
fell-side ahead of me, there glimmered a strange 
little light that disappeared for a moment and 
then showed itself again. Soon afterwards it was 
hidden, I supposed by some hoUow in the ground. 
Had I been bred in the dales in the time of our 
grandfathers, I should have fled wildly from such 
a sight, and probably found an early grave in the 
moist depths of one of the Buttertubs. As it was. 


although quite alone and without any means of 
defence, I went on steadily, until at last, out of 
the darkness, I heard a laugh that sounded 
human enough, and then came to me the sound of 
a heavy cart lumbering slowly over the stones. 
The breeze wafted to me a suggestion of tobacco, 
and in a moment my anxiety had gone. The cart 
contained two girls, and by the horse's head walked 
a man, while another followed on horseback. One 
of the men lit his pipe again, and in the momentary 
flare I could see his big, genial face, the farm-horse, 
and the two happy maidens. We said 'Good- 
night' to prove each other's honesty, and after a 
while the sound of the cart died away, as it went 
slowly along the windings of the pass. After this I 
was seldom alone, for I had fallen in with the good 
folks who had gone over to the feast at Hawes, 
and were now homeward bound in the darkness. 

Although there are probably few who care for 
rough moorland roads at night, the Buttertubs 
Pass in daylight is still a memorable place. The 
pot-holes can then be safely approached, and one 
can peer into the blackness below until the eyes 
become adapted to the gloom. Then one sees the 
wet walls of limestone and the curiously-formed 
isolated pieces of rock that almost suggest columnar 



basalt. In crevices far down delicate ferns are 
growing in the darkness. They shiver as the cool 
water drips upon them from above, and the drops 
they throw off fall down lower still into a stream 
of miderground water that has its beginnings no 
man knows where. On a hot day it is cooling 
simply to gaze into the Buttertubs, and the sowid 
of the falling waters down in these shadowy places 
is pleasant after gazing on the dry fell-sides. 

Just beyond the head of the pass, where the 
descent to Hawes begins, the shoulders of Great 
Shunnor Fell drop down, so that not only straight 
ahead, but also westwards, one can see a splendid 
mountain view. Ingleborough's flat top is con- 
spicuous in the south, and in every direction there 
are indications of the geology of the fells. The 
hard stratum of millstone grit that rests upon 
the limestone gives many of the summits of the 
hills their level character, and forms the sharply- 
defined scars that encircle them. Lower down 
the hills are generally rounded. It used to puzzle 
Dr. Whitaker, the historian of these parts, * how, 
upon a surface which must at first have consisted 
of angles and right lines only, nothing but graceful 
curves should now appear, as if some plastic hand 
had formed the original surface over again for use 


and beauty at once.' Then, with the blankest 
pessimism, he goes on to say that ^ these are among 
the many questions relating to the theory of the 
earth which the restless curiosity of man will ever 
be asking without the hope or possibility of a solu- 
tion ' I The exclamation mark is mine, for I cannot/ 
restrain my feelings of astonishment that a learned 
man writing in 1805 should deny to us the know- 
ledge we have of the action of ice and the other 
forces of denudation, by which we are able to 
understand to such a very great extent the agencies 
that have produced the contours of the Yorkshire 
mountains. The sudden changes of weather that 
take place among these watersheds would almost 
seem to be cause enough to explain the wearing 
down of the angularities of the heights. Even 
while we stand on the bridge at Hawes we can see 
three or four ragged cloud edges letting down on 
as many places torrential rains, while in between 
there are intervals of blazing sunshine, under which 
the green fells turn bright yellow and orange in 
powerful contrast to the indigo shadows on every 
side. *Such rapid changes from complete saturation 
to sudden heat are trjdng to the hardest rocks, and 
at Hardraw, close at hand, there is a still more 
palpable process of denudation in^active operation. 


Such a morning as this is quite ideal for seeing 
the remarkable waterfall known as Hardraw Scar 
or Force. The footpath that leads up the glen 
leaves the road at the side of the ^ Green Dragon ' 
at Hardraw, where the innkeeper hands us a key 
to open the gate we must pass through. Being 
September, and an uncertain day for weather, we 
have the whole glen to ourselves, until behind 
some rocks we discover a solitary angler. There is 
nothing but the roughest of tracks to follow, for 
the carefiiUy-made pathway that used to go right 
up to the fall was swept away half a dozen years 
ago, when the stream in a fierce mood cleared its 
course of any traces of artificiality. We are deeply 
grateful, and make our way among the big rocks 
and across the slippery surfaces of shale, with 
the roar of the waters becoming more and more 
insistent. The sun has turned into the ravine a 
great searchlight that has lit up the rock walls and 
strewn the wet grass beneath with sparkling jewels. 
On the opposite side there is a dense blue shadow 
over everything except the foliage on the brow of 
the clifis, where the strong autmnn colours leap 
into a flaming glory that transforms the ravine 
into an astonishing splendour. A little more 
careful scrambling by the side of the stream, and 


This fall of water on a tributary of the Ure is 
ffenerally considered to be the finest in Yorkshire. 
The water comes over a lip of overhanging rock, and 
drops dieer into a pool 80 feet below. It is a most 
romantic spot at all times, but it is seen at its best 
after a heavy rainfttlL It is possible to walk behind 
the £all on a slippery spray-drenched path. 




we see a white band of water falling from the over- 
hanging limestone into the pool about ninety feet 
below. Off the surface of the water drifts a mist 
of spray, in which a soft patch of rainbow hovers 
until the sun withdraws itself for a time and leaves 
a sudden gloom in the horseshoe of overhanging 
cliffs. The place is, perhaps, more in sympathy 
with a cloudy sky, but, under sunshine or cloud, 
the spout of water is a memorable sight, and its 
imposing height places Hardraw among the small 
group of England's finest waterfalls. Everyone, 
however, realizes the disappointment so often ex- 
perienced in visiting such sights in dry weather, 
and the water at Hardraw sometimes shrinks to 
a mere trickle, leaving only the rock chasm to tell 
the traveller what can happen in really wet weather. 
The beck that takes this prodigious leap rises on 
Great Shunnor Fell, and if that mountain has 
received the attentions of some low clouds during 
the night, there is generally a gushing stream of 
water pouring over the projecting lip of hard lime- 
stone. The shale that lies beneath this stratum is 
soft enough to be worked away by the water until 
the limestone overhangs the pool to the extent of 
ten or twelve feet, so that the water &lls sheer 
into the circular basin, leaving a space between 


the cliff and the fall where it is safe to walk on 
a rather moist and slippery path that is constantly 
being sprayed from the siir£eice of the pooL 

In hard winters, such as that of 1881, the waters 
freeze up into a great mass of ice, through which 
the fall makes its way by keeping an open pipe 
down the centre. It is recorded that in the winter 
of 1789-40 the fall began to freeze at the top and 
bottom, and that it eventually met, making 'one 
hollow column which was seventy-two yards and 
three-quarters in circumference.' 

As we turn away from the roar of the waters 
the sun comes through the clouds once more and 
illuminates the glen with such a generous light 
that we long to be in the open again, so that we 
may see all the play of the sweeping shadows along 
the slopes of Wensleydale. As we cross the Ure 
we have a view of the wet roofs of Hawes shining 
in dazzling light. The modem church-tower, with 
a pinnacle at one comer only, stands out con- 
spicuously, but the little town looks uninteresting, 
although it does not spoil the views of the head 
of the dale. The street is wide and long, and 
would be very dull but for the splendid surround- 
ings which the houses cannot quite shut out. As 
we are here for pleasure, and not to make an 


examination of every place in the dale country, 
we will hurry out of the town at once, making 
our way southwards to the little hamlet of Gayle, 
where old stone cottages are scattered on each 
side of the Duerley Beck. Dodd Fell, where the 
beck has its source, is mantled by a cloud that is 
condensing into rain with such rapidity that, if 
we wait on the bridge for a time, we shall be able 
to see the already swollen waters rise still higher 
as they come foaming over the broad cascades. 
The stream has much the colour of ale, and the 
creamy foam adds to the effect so much that one 
might imagine that some big brew-house had 
collapsed and added the contents of its vats to 
the stream. But we have only to realize that, as 
upper Wensleydale produces no com and no 
hops, breweries could scarcely exist. When 
Leland wrote, nearly four hundred years ago, he 
said : * Uredale veri litle Come except Bygg oi 
Otes, but plentiful of Gresse in Comimunes,' so 
that, although this dale is so much more genial 
in aspect, and so much wider than the valley of the 
Swale, yet crops are under the same disabilities. 
Leaving Gayle behind, we climb up a steep and 
stony road above the beck until we are soon above 
the level of green pasturage. The stone walls still 



cover the hillsides with a net of very large mesh, 
but the sheep find more bent than grass, and the 
ground is often exceedingly steep. Higher still 
climbs this venturesome road, until all around us 
is a vast tumble of gaunt brown fells, divided by 
ravines whose sides are scarred with runnels of water, 
which have exposed the rocks and left miniature 
screes down below. At a height of nearly 1,600 
feet there is a gate, where we will turn away from 
the road that goes on past Dodd Fell into Lang- 
strothdale, and instead climb a smooth grass track 
sprinkled with half-buried rocks until we have 
reached the summit of Wether Fell, 400 feet 
higher. There is a scanty growth of ling upon 
the top of this height, but the hills that lie about 
on every side are browny-green or of an ochre 
colour, and there is little of the purple one sees 
in the Cleveland Hills. 

The cultivated level of Wensleydale is quite 
hidden from view, so that we look over a vast 
panorama of mountains extending in the west as 
far as the blue fells of Lakeland. I have painted 
the westward view from this very summit, so that 
any written description is hardly needed ; but 
behind us, as we £ace the scene illustrated here, 
there is a wonderfttl expanse that includes the 


The picture shows the mountains to the north-west 
of Wether Fell (2,0x5 f'^O* ^^ heathery summit of 
which appears in the foreground. Hawes lies to the 
right, hidden by the steep sides of the dale. 

J ' 





heights of Addlebrough, Stake Fell, and Penhil 
Beacon, which stand out boldly on the southern 
side of Wensleydale. I have seen these hills lightly 
covered with snow, but that can give scarcely the 
smallest suggestion of the scene that was witnessed 
after the remarkable snowstorm of January, 1895, 
which blocked the roads between Wensleydale and 
Swaledale until nearly the middle of March. Roads 
were cut out, with walls of snow on either side 
from 10 to 15 feet in height, but the wind and 
fresh falls almost obliterated the passages soon after 
they had been cut. In Langstrothdale Mr. Speight 
tells of the extraordinary difficulties of the dales- 
folk in the farms and cottages, who were faced 
with starvation owing to the difficulty of getting 
in provisions. They cut ways through the drifts 
as high as themselves in the direction of the Ukeliest 
places to obtain food, while in Swaledale they built 
sledges. It is difficult to imagine such scenes after 
a hot climb on a warm afternoon, even though 
great white masses of cumulus are l3dng in serried 
ridges near the horizon; but, having seen the 
Lake District under a thick mantle of snow from 
the top of Helvellyn, I have some idea of the scene 
in Wensleydale after that stupendous falL 

When we have left the highest part of Wether 



Fell, we find the track taking a perfectly straight 
line between stone walls. The straightness is so 
unusual that there can be little doubt that it is a 
survival of one of the Roman ways connecting 
their station on Brough Hill, just above the village 
of Bainbridge, with some place to the south-west. 
The track goes right over Cam Fell, and is known 
as the Old Cam Road, but I cannot recommend it 
for any but pedestrians. When we have descended 
only a short distance, there is a sudden view of 
Semmerwater, the only piece of water in Yorkshire 
that really deserves to be called a lake. It is a 
pleasant surprise to discover this placid patch of 
blue lying among the hills, and partially hidden by 
a fellside in such a way that its area might be far 
greater than 105 acres. Those who know Turner's 
painting of this lake would be disappointed, no 
doubt, if they saw it first from this height. The 
picture was made at the edge of the water with 
the Carlow Stone in the foreground, and over the 
mountains on the southern shore appears a sky 
that would make the dullest potato-field thrilling. 

A short distance lower down, by straying a little 
from the road, we get a really imposing view of 
Bardale, into which the ground faUs suddenly from 
our very feet. Sheep scamper nimbly down their 


convenient little tracks, but there are places where 
water that overflows from the pools among the 
bent and ling has made blue -gray seams and 
wrinkles in the steep places that give no foothold 
even to the toughest sheep. Raydale and Cragdale 
also send down becks that join with Bardale Beck 
just before they enter Semmerwater. Just now 
the three glens are particularly imposing, for some 
of the big clouds that have been sweeping across 
the heavens all day are massing themselves on the 
edges of the heights, and by eclipsing themselves 
have assumed an angry indigo hue that makes the 
scene almost Scottish. 

Perhaps it is because Yorkshire folk are so unused 
to the sight of lakes that both Semmerwater and 
Gormire, near Thirsk, have similar legends con- 
nected with their miraculous origin. Where the 
water now covers the land, says the story, there 
used to stand a small town, and to it there once 
came an angel disguised as a poor and ill-clad 
beggar. The old man slowly made his way along 
the street from one house to another asking for 
food, but at each door he met with the same blank 
refusal. He went on, therefore, imtil he came to 
a poor little cottage outside the town. Although 
the couple who lived there were almost as old and 


as poor as himself, the beggar asked for something 
to eat as he had done at the other houses. The old 
folk at once asked him in, and, giving him bread, 
milk, and cheese, urged him to pass the night under 
their root Then in the morning, when the old man 
was about to take his departure, came the awful 
doom upon the inhospitable town, for the beggar 
held up his hands, and said : 

^ Semmerwater, rise ! Semerwater, sink ! 
And swallow the town, all save this house, 
Where they gave me meat and drink/ 

Of course, the waters obeyed the disguised angel ; 
and, for proof, have we not the existence of the 
lake, and is there not also pointed out an ancient 
little cottage standing alone at the lower end of 

We lose sight of Semimerwater behind the ridge 
that forms one side of the branch dale in which it 
lies, but in exchange we get beautiful views of the 
sweeping contours of Wensleydale. High upon 
the fiirther side of the valley Askrigg's gray roofe 
and pretty church stand out against a steep fell- 
side; further down we can see Nappa Hall, sur- 
rounded by trees, just above the winding river, and 
Bainbridge lies close at hand. We soon come to 
the broad and cheerful green, surrounded by a 


picturesque scattering of old but well preserved 
cottages ; for Balubridge has sufficient charms to 
make it a pleasant inland resort for holiday times 
that is quite ideal for those who are content to 
abandon the sea. The overflow from Semmer- 
water, which is called the Bain, fiUs the village 
with its music as it falls over ledges of rock in 
many cascades along one side of the green. There 
is a steep bridge, which is conveniently placed 
for watching the waterfalls ; there are white geese 
always drilling on the grass, and there are still to 
be seen the upright stones of the stocks. The 
pretty inn called the * Rose and Crown,' overlooking 
a comer of the green, states upon a board that it 
was established in 1445. This date at one time 
appeared in raised letters upon a stone over the 
doorway, which, Mr. Speight tells us, ' had formerly 
a good Norman arch.' Anything of that period 
would, of course, cany the origin of the building 
back some centuries earlier than the year claimed 
for the establishment of the inn. The great age 
of the village, owing to its existence in Roman 
times, as well as the importance it gained through 
being not only situated at important cross-roads, 
but also on the edge of the forest of Wensleydale, 
would account for the early establishment of some 


sort of hostelry for the entertainment of travellers. 
Even at the present day a horn-blowing custom 
has been preserved at Bainbridge. It takes place 
at ten o'clock every night between Holy Rood 
(September 27) and Shrovetide, but somehow the 
reason for the observance has been forgotten. The 
medieval regulations as to the carrying of horns 
by foresters and those who passed through forests 
would undoubtedly associate the custom with early 
times, and this happy old village certainly gains 
our respect for having preserved anything from 
such a remote period. When we reach Bolton 
Castle we shall find in the museum there an old 
horn from Bainbridge. 

Besides having the length and breadth of Wens- 
leydale to explore with or without the assistance 
of the railway, Bainbridge has as its particular pos- 
session the valley containing Semmerwater, with 
the three romantic dales at its head. Counterside, 
a hamlet perched a little above the lake, has an old 
hall, where Gteorge Fox stayed in 1677 as a guest 
of Richard Robinson. The inn bears the date 1667 
and the initials * B. H. J.,' which may be those of 
one of the Jacksons, who were Quakers at that 

On the other side of the river, and scarcely more 


than a mile from Bainbridge, is the little town of 
Askxigg, which supplies its neighbour with a 
church and a railway-station. There is a charm 
in its breezy situation that is ever present, for 
even when we are in the narrow little street that 
curves steeply up the hill there are peeps of the 
dale that are quite exhilarating. The square- 
topped Addlebrough is separated from us by 
a great airy space, and looking up and down the 
broad dale which widens eastwards and becomes 
narrower and more rugged to the west, there 
appears to be a vastness lying around us which 
no plain can suggest. We can see Wether Fell, 
with the road we traversed yesterday plainly 
marked on the slopes, and down below, where the 
Ure takes its way through bright pastures, there 
is a mist of smoke ascending from Hawes. Block- 
ing up the head of the dale are the spurs of Dodd 
and Widdale Fells, while beyond them appears 
the blue summit of Bow FelL We find it hard 
to keep our eyes away from the distant mountains, 
which fascinate one by appearing to have an im- 
portance that is perhaps diminished when they are 
close at hand. All the big clouds that yesterday 
could scarcely hold up their showers for the 
shortest intervals have disappeared; perhaps they 



have now reached the river in liquid form, and 
are sparkling in the sunshine that now comes, 
without interruption, from their spotless cenotaph. 
We will follow SheUey's metaphor no further, 
for there is water enough everywhere to fill the 
dales with all the roarings and murmurings that 
the forces and gills can supply, and we would 
gladly forget the cloud's ' silent laugh ' as it burins 
to unbuild the blue dome of heaven. 

We find ourselves halting on a patch of grass 
by the restored market-cross to look more closely 
at a fine old house overlooking the three-sided 
space. There is no doubt as to the date of the 
building, for a plain inscription begins * Gulielmus 
Thornton posuit banc domum MDCLXXVIII.' 
The bay windows, as may be seen in the illustra- 
tion, have heavy muUions and transoms, and there 
is a dignity about the house which must have been 
still more apparent when the surrounding houses 
were lower than at present The wooden gallery 
that is constructed between the bays was, it is 
said, built as a convenient place for watching the 
bull-fights that took place just below. In the 
grass there can still be seen the stone to which 
the bull-ring was secured. The churchyard runs 
along the west side of the little market-place, so 


The village of Askrigg, perched picturesquely on 
the northern slopes of Wensleydale, possesses this 
imposing stone house. It overlooks the open space 
by the church, where bull-fights took place in the 
early part of last century. The ring is still to be seen 
in the patch of grass, and the wooden balcony 
between the projecting bays of the house was a 
favourite position for watching the contests. 


that there is an open view on that side, made 
interesting by the Perpendicular church. The 
simple square tower and the unbroken roof-lines 
are battlemented, like so many of the churches 
of the dales; inside we find Norman pillars that 
are quite in strange company, if it is true that they 
were brought from the site of Fors ABbey, a 
little to the west of the town. The greater part 
of the church dates from 1466, and shortly after 
this reconstruction of the thirteenth-century build- 
ing a chantry in the south aisle, dedicated to St. 
Anne, was founded by one of the Metcalfes of 
Nappa Hall, which we shall pass on our way to 

Wensleydale generally used to be famed for its 
hand-knitting, but I think Askrigg must have 
turned out more work than any place in the valley, 
for the men as well as the womenfolk were equally 
skilled in this employment, and Mr. Whaley says 
they did their work in the open air * while gossip- 
ing with their neighbours.' This statement is, 
nevertheless, exceeded by what appears in a 
volume entitled *The Costume of Yorkshire.* 
In that work of 1814, which contains a nuniber 
of G^eorge Walker's quaint drawings, reproduced 
by Uthography, we find a picture having a strong 



suggestion of Askrigg in which there is a group 
of old and young of both sexes seated on the steps 
of the market-cross, all knitting, and a little way 
off a shepherd is seen driving some ^eep through 
a gate, and he also is knitting. The letterpress 
describes how a woman named Slinger, who lived 
in Cotterdale, used to walk to and from Hawes 
Market with her goods on her head, knitting 
steadily all the way. Kjiitting-machines have long 
since killed this industry, but Askrigg has some- 
how survived the loss. Grandfather-clocks are 
still made in the little town, as they have been 
for a great number of years. We have already 
noticed an old Askrigg clock at Muker, and if 
we keep our eyes open we shall come across others, 
as well as examples fix>m Leybum, Middleham, 
and other places in the dale that possessed a clock- 

It is interesting to those who wish to get a 
correct idea of a place before visiting it to know 
that they may easily be led astray by even the 
best guides. When we read in Murray that 
Askrigg is a * dull little town of gray houses,' we 
are at once predisposed against the place, although 
we might know that all the houses in the dales are 
gray. No suggestion is given of the splendid situa- 


tion, and one might imagine that all the houses, 
with the exception of the one near the church, 
are featureless and quite uninteresting. This, of 
course, would be a total misapprehension, for 
many of the buildings are old, with quaint door- 
ways and steps, and there are mossy roofs that 
add colour to the stone, which is often splashed 
with orange and pale emerald lichen. In writing 
of Hawes, on the other hand, Murray omits to 
mention the lack of picturesqueness in its really 
dull street, merely sajdng that * the town itself is 
growing and improving.' Not content, however, 
with this approval of the place, the guide goes 
still further astray by stating that the dale in the 
neighbourhood of Hawes ^ is broad and open, and 
not very picturesque 'I I cannot help exclaiming 
at such a statement, although I may be told that 
all this is a mere matter of individual opinion, for 
is not Wensleydale broad and open from end to 
end, and is not Hawes situated in the midst of 
some of the wildest and noblest fells in Yorkshire ? 
It is true that the town lies on the level ground 
by the river, and thus the views from it do not 
form themselves into such natural pictures as they 
do at Askrigg, but I am inclined to blame the 
town rather than the scenery. 


From Askrigg there is a road that climbs up 
from the end of the little street at a gradient that 
looks like 1 in 4, but it is really less formidable. 
Considering its steepness the surface is quite good, 
but that is due to the industry of a certain road- 
mender with whom I once had the privilege to 
talk when, hot and breathless, I paused to enjoy 
the great expanse that lay to the south. He was 
a fine Saxon type, with a sunburnt face and equally 
brown arms. Road-making had been his ideal 
when he was a mere boy, and since he had obtained 
his desire he told me that he couldn't be happier if 
he were the King of England. And his content- 
ment seemed to me to be based largely upon his 
intense pleasure in bringing the roads to as great 
a perfection as his careful and thinking labour 
could compass. He did not approve of steam- 
rollers, for his experience had taught him that if 
the stones were broken small enough they bound 
together quickly enough. Besides this, he dis- 
approved of a great camber or curve on the road 
which induces the traffic to keep in the middle, 
leaving a mass of loose stones on either side. The 
result of his work may be seen on the highway 
from Askrigg to Bainbridge, where a conspicuous 
smoothness has come to a road that was recently 


one of the most indifferent in the district. Perhaps 
he may eventually be given the maintenance of 
the way over the Buttertubs Pass; and if he 
ever induces that road to become a little more 
civilized, this enthusiastic workman will gain the 
appreciation of the whole neighbourhood. The 
road where we leave him, breaking every large 
stone he can find, goes on across a belt of brown 
moor, and then drops down between gaunt scars 
that only just leave space for the winding track to 
pass through. It afterwards descends rapidly by 
the side of a gill, and thus enters Swaledale. 

There is a beautiful walk from Askrigg to Mill 
Gill Force. The distance is scarcely more than 
half a mile across sloping pastures and through 
the curious stiles that appear in the stone walls. 
So dense is the growth of trees in the little ravine 
that one hears the sound of the waters close at 
hand without seeing anything but the profusion of 
foliage overhanging and growing among the rocks. 
After climbing down among the moist ferns and 
moss-grown stones, the gushing cascades appear 
suddenly set in a frame of such lavish beauty that 
they hold a high place among their rivals in the 
dale, and the particular charms of this spot are 
hardly surpassed by any others in the whole 


county. Higher up there is Whitfield Force, 
which has a fall of nearly 50 feet. Its setting, too, 
among great rock walls and an ancient forest 
growth, is most fascinating, especially when one 
finds that very few go beyond the greater falls 

Keeping to the north side of the river, we come 
to Nappa Hall at a distance of a little over a mile 
to the east of Askrigg. It is now a farmhouse, 
but its two battlemented towers proclaim its 
former importance as the chief seat of the family 
of MetcaLFe. The date of the house is about 1459, 
and the walls of the western tower are 4 feet in 
thickness. The Nappa lands came to James 
Metcalfe firom Sir Richard Scrope of Bolton 
Castle shortly after his return to England from 
the field of Agincourt, and it was probably this 
James Metcalfe who built the existing house. We 
are told something about the matter by Leland, 
who says : * Knappey in Yorksldre^ now the chifest 
House of the Metecalfes^ was boute by one Thomas 
Metcalfe^ Siume to James Metecalfe^ of one of the 
Lordes Scropes of Bolton.^ He also says that ^ on 
it was but a Cotage or litle better House, ontille 
this Thomas began ther to build, in the which 
Building 2 Toures be very fair, beside other Log- 

^ ^^^ ^ N APPA HALL 97 

ginges.' Mr. Speight thinks that Leland made 
some mistake as to the Metcalfe who purchased 
the estate, and also as to the builder of the house ; 
and in his account of Nappa the author of 
* Romantic Richmondshire ' has, with the aid of the 
Metcalfe Records, been able to correct several in- 
accuracies which have been written about this 
distinguished and numerous family. 

Until the year 1880 there was still kept at 

Nappa Hall a fine old four-post bedstead, which 

was, according to tradition, the one slept in by Mary 

^ Queen of Scots when she is said to have stayed in 

2^ the house. Nothing exists, however, to give the 

\D slightest colour to this story, but the bed, now 

somewhat altered, is still in existence at Newby 

Hall, near Ripon. 

The road down the dale passes Woodhall Park, 
and then, after going down close to the Ure, it bears 
away again to the little village of Carperby. It 
has a triangular green surrounded by white posts. 
At the east end stands an old cross, dated 1674, 
and the ends of the arms are ornamented with 
grotesque carved heads. The cottages have a neat 
and pleasant appearance, and there is much less 
austerity about the place than one sees hi^ 
the dale. A branch road leads down to 


Station, and just where the lane takes a sharp bend 
to the right a footpath goes across a smooth 
meadow to the banks of the Ure. The rainfall of 
the last few days, which showed itself at Mill Gill 
Force, at Hardraw Scar, and a dozen other falls, 
has been sufficient to swell the main stream at 
Wensleydale into a considerable flood, and behind 
the bushes that grow thickly along the river-side 
we can hear the steady roar of the cascades of 
Aysgarth. The waters have worn down the rocky 
bottom to such an extent that in order to stand in 
full view of the splendid fall we must make for a 
gap in the foliage, and scramble down some natural 
steps in the wall of rock forming low cliffs along 
each side of the flood. Although it is still 
September, the rocks are overhung with the most 
brilliant autumn foliage. The morning simlight 
coming across a dark plantation of firs on the 
southern bank lights up the yellow and red leaves, 
and turns the foaming waters into a brilliant white 
where they are not under the shadow of the trees. 
The water comes over three terraces of solid stone, 
and then sweeps across wide ledges in a tempestuous 
sea of waves and froth, until there come other 
descents which alter the course of parts of the stream, 
so that as we look across the riotous flood we can 


The beautiftil river Ure that flows through Wensley- 
dale falls over a series of x)cky ledges dose to the 
village of Aysgarth. The picture shows the lower 
series of falls on the momiig following a wet night 





B L 


see the waters flowing in many opposite directions. 
Lines of cream-coloured foam spread out into 
chains of bubbles which join together, and then, 
becoming detached, again float across the smooth 
portions of each low terrace. Where the water is 
smooth and shaded by the overhanging mass of 
trees it assumes a dark gre^i-brown colour, and 
shows up the chains and necklaces of sportive 
bubbles which the ctecades produce. I suppose 
it was because Leland did not see the other great 
falls in Wensleydale that he omits any mention of 
High Force on the Tees and Hardraw Scar, but 
yet mentions 'where Ure Ryver fauUethe very 
depe betwixt 2 scarry Rokks.' 

Besides these lower falls, we can see, if we go 
up the course of the river towards Aysgarth, a 
single cascade called the Middle Force, and from 
the bridge which spans the river with one great 
arch we have a convenient place to watch the 
highest series of falls. But neither of these have 
half the grandeur of the lowest of the series which 
is illustrated here. There is a large mill by the 
bridge, and, ascending the steep roadway that goes 
up to the village, we soon reach the pathway to 
the church. Perhaps because Aysgarth Force is 
famous enough to attract large crowds of sightseers 




on certain days throughout the summer, the church 
is kept locked, and as we wish to see the splendid 
Perpendicular screen, saved from the wreck of 
Jervaulx Abbey, we must make our way to the 
Vicarage, and enter the church in the company of 
a custodian who watches us with suspicious eyes, 
fearing, no doubt, that if he looks away or waits 
in the churchyard we may feel anxious to leave 
our initials on the reading-desk. Apart from the 
screen, the choir stalls, and the other woodwork of 
the dioir, there is very little interest in the church 
owing to the rebuilding that has taken place, and 
left few traces of antiquity beyond suggestions 
of Early English work in the tower. There 
is a short-cut by some footpaths that brings us to 
Aysgarth village, which seems altogether to dis- 
r^ard the church, for it is separated from it by 
a distance of nearly half a mile. There is one 
pleasant little street of old stone houses irregularly 
disposed, many of them being quite picturesque, 
with mossy roofs and ancient chinmeys. This 
village, like Askrigg and Bainbridge, is ideally 
situated as a centre for exploring a very consider- 
able district. There is quite a network of roads to 
the south, connecting the villages of Thoralby and 
West Burton with Bishop Dale, and the main road 


through Wensleydale. Thoralby is very old, and 
is beautifiilly situated under a steep hiUside. It 
has a green overlooked by little gray cottages, 
and lower down there is a tall miU with curious 
windows built upon Bishop Dale Beck. Close to 
this mill there nestles a long, low house of that 
dignified type to be seen frequently in the North 
Riding, as weU as in the villages of Westmoreland. 
The huge chinmey, occupying a large proportion 
of one gable-end, is suggestive of much cosiness 
within, and its many shoulders, by which it tapers 
towards the top, make it an interesting feature of 
the house. The lower part of Bishop Dale is often 
singularly beautiful in the evening. If we stop 
and lean over a gate, we can see Stake Fell tower- 
ing above us — an indistinct blue wall with a 
sharply-broken edge. Above appears a pale-yellow 
sky, streaked with orange-coloured clouds so thin 
as to look almost like smoke. The intense silence 
is broken by the buzz of a swift-flying insect, and 
then when that has gone other sounds seem to 
intensify the stillness. Suddenly a shriU beUow 
from a cow echoes through the valley, a sheep-dog 
barks, and we can hear the distant cough of cattle, 
which are quite invisible in the gathering twilight. 
A farmer in his cart drives slowly by up the steep 


lane, and then the silence becomes more complete 
than before, and the fells become blue-black agamst 
a sky which is just beginning to be spangled with 
the palest of stars. They seem to flicker so much 
that the soft evening breeze threatens to blow 
them out altogether. 

The dale narrows up at its highest point, but the 
road is enclosed between gray walls the whole of 
the way over the head of the valley. A wide view 
of Langstrothdale and upper Wharfedale is visible 
when the road begins to drop downwards, and to 
the east Buckden Pike towers up to his imposing 
height of 2,802 feet. We shall see him again when 
we make our way through Wharfedale, but we 
could go back to Wensleydale by a mountain-path 
that climbs up the side of Cam Gill Beck from 
Starbottom, and then, crossing the ridge between 
Buckden Pike and Tor Mere Top, it goes down 
into the wild recesses of Waldendale. So remote 
is this valley that wild animals, long extinct in 
other parts of the dales, survived there until almost 
recent times. 

When we have crossed the Ure again, and taken 
a last look at the Upper Fall from Aysgarth Bridge, 
we betake ourselves by a footpath to the main 
highway through Wensleydale, turning aside before 


reaching Redmire in order to see the great castle 
of the Scropes at Bolton. It is a vast quadrangular 
mass, with each side nearly as gaunt and as lofty 
as the others. At each comer rises a great square 
tower, pierced, with a few exceptions, by the smallest 
of windows. Only the base of the tower at the 
north-east comer remains to-day, the upper part 
having fallen one stormy night in November, 1761, 
possibly having been weakened during the siege of 
the castle in the Civil War. We go into the court- 
yard through a vaulted archway on the eastern side. 
Many of the rooms on the side facing us are in good 
preservation, and an apartment in the south-west 
tower, which has a fireplace, is pointed out as having 
been used by Mary Queen of Scots when she was 
imprisoned here after the Battle of Langside in 1568. 
It was the ninth Lord Scrope who had the custody 
of the Queen, and he was assisted by Sir Francis 
KnoUys. Mary, no doubt, found the time of her 
imprisonment irksome enough, despite the magnifi- 
cent views over the dale which her windows appear 
to have commanded ; but the monotony was relieved 
to some extent by the lessons in English which she 
received from Sir Francis, whom she describes as 
*her good schoolmaster.' While still a prisoner, 
Mary addressed to him her first English letter. 


which begins: *Mester Kiioleis, I heve sum neus 
from Scotland'; and half-way through she begs 
that he will excuse her writing, seeing that she had 
*neuur vsed it afor/ and was ^hestet* The letter 
concludes with 'thus, affter my commendations, I 
prey God heuu you in his kipin. Your assured 
gud £rind, Mari£ R.' Then comes a postscript: 
*Excus my iuel writin thes fiirst tjon' — 'iuel' 
being no doubt intended for * evil,' 

Another relic of the Queen's captivity at Bolton 
was a pane of glass, upon which she had scratched 
* Marie R.' with a diamond ring; but it was 
damaged during the execution of some repairs to 
the castle, and in removing the glass for greater 
security from the castle to Bolton Hall it was 
hopelessly smashed. 

The stories of Mary's attempts at escape have 
long been considered mere fabrications, for, despite 
many intimate details of the months spent at 
Bolton, no reference to such matters have been 
discovered. In the face of this denial on the part 
of recorded history, Leybum Shawl still holds 
affectionately to the story that Mary Stuart did 
leave the castle unobserved, and that she was 
overtaken there in the place called the Queen's 

. / 


In this feudal stronghold Mary Queen of Scots was 
imprisoned for six months in 1568. She was brought 
from Carlisle by Lord Scrope, the owner of Bolton 
Castle. The building forms a gaunt square, lofty 
and almost featureless, except for the broken towers 
which rise at each of the four corners. Lord 
Chancellor Scrope built the castle in the reign of 
Richard II., and his descendants occupied it for three 




B 4 


As we leave the grim castle, so fall of memories 
of a great family and of a lovely Queen, we turn 
back before it is hidden from our gaze, and see the 
towers silhouetted against a golden sky much as it 
is depicted in these pages. We think of all the 
Scropes who have come and gone since that Lord 
Richard received license in 1879 to crenellate the 
fortress he had built, and we regret again the dis- 
appearance of all those sumptuous tombs that once 
adorned the choir of Easby Abbey. However, 
there are memorials to members of the family in 
Wensley Church lying a little to the east beyond 
the wooded park of Bolton Hall, and we shall 
arrive there before long if we keep to the right 
at the turning beneath the height knoWn as 
Scarth Nick. On the opposite side of the dale 
Penhill Beacon stands out prominently, with its 
flat summit reflecting just enough of the setting 
sun to recall a momentous occasion when from that 
commanding spot a real beacon-fire sent up a great 
mass of flame and sparks. It was during the time 
of Napoleon's threatened invasion of England, and 
the lighting of this beacon was to be the signal to 
the volunteers of Wensleydale to muster and march 
to their rendezvous. The watchman on Penhill, 
as he sat by the piled-up brushwood, wondering, 



no doubt, what would happen to him if the dreaded 
invasion were really to come about, saw, far away 
across the Vale of Mowbray, a %ht which he at 
once took to be the beacon upon Roseberry Topping. 
A moment later tongues of flame and smoke were 
pouring firom his own hilltop, and the news spread 
up the dale like wildfire. The volunteers armed 
themselves rapidly, and with drums beating they 
marched away, with only such delay as was caused 
by the hurried leave-takings with wives and mothers, 
and aU the rest who crowded round. The con- 
tingent took the road to Thirsk, and on the way 
were joined by the Mashamshire men. Whether 
it was with relief or disappointment I do not know; 
but when the volunteers reached Thirsk they heard 
that they had been called out by a false alarm, for 
the light seen in the direction of Roseberry Topping 
had been caused by accident, and the beacon on 
that height had not been lit After all, the scare 
did no harm, for it showed the mettle of the 
Dalesmen, and they were afterwards thanked by 
Parliament for their prompt response to the 

On the side of PenhiU that looks full towards 
Bolton Castle there still remain the foundations of 
the chapel of the Knight Templars, who must have 


established their hospital there soon after 1146, 
when the Order was instituted in England. 

Wensley stands just at the point where the dale, 
to which it has given its name, becomes so wide 
that it begins to lose its distinctive character. The 
village is most picturesque and secluded, and it is 
small enough to cause some wonder as to its dis- 
tinction in naming the valley. It is suggested that 
the name is derived from Wodenslag^ and that in 
the time of the Northmen's occupation of these 
parts the place named alter their chief god would 
be the most important.- In its possession of a 
pleasant sloping green, dominated by a great elm, 
round whose base has been built a circub r platform, 
Wensley is particularly happy. The Ure, flowing 
close at hand, is crossed by a fine old bridge, whose 
pointed arches must have survived many centuries ; 
for Leland says that it was built by ^ Alwine^ 
Parson of JVencelaWj *200 Yer ago and more,' 
that statement being made about the year 1588. 

In the little church standing on the south side 
of the green there is so much to interest us that 
we are almost unable to decide what to examine 
first, until, realizing that we are brought face to 
face with a beautiful relic of Easby Abbey, we 
tmn our attention to the parclose screen. It sur- 



rounds the family pew of Bolton Hall, and on 
three sides we see the Perpendicular woodwork 
fitted into the east end of the north aisle. The 
side that fronts the nave has an entirely different 
appearance, being painted and of a classic order, very 
lacking in any ecclesiastical flavour, an impression 
not lost on those who, with every excuse, called it 
* the opera box/ In the panels of the early part 
of the screen are carved inscriptions and arms of 
the Scropes covering a long period, and, though 
many words and letters are missing, it is possible 
to make them more complete with the help of the 
record made by the heralds in 1665. 

On the floor of the chancel is the brass to Sir 
Simon de Wenselawe, a priest of the fourteenth 
century. There is no trace of any inscription, and 
the name was only discovered by a reference to the 
brass in the will of Oswald Dykes, a rector who 
died in Jacobean times, and desired that he might 
be buried under the stone which now bears his 
name above the figure of the priest. This brass 
is the best in the North Riding, and it closely 
resembles the one to Abbot de la Mare in St. Albans 

A charming lane, overhung by big trees, runs 
above the river-banks for nearly two mUes of the 


way to Middleham; then it joins the road from 
Leyburn, and crosses the Ure by a suspension 
bridge, defended by two very formidable though 
modem archways. Climbing up past the church, 
we enter the cobbled market-place, which wears a 
rather decayed appearance in sympathy with the 
departed magnificence of the great castle of the 
Nevilles. It commands a vast view of Wensley- 
dale from the southern side, in much the same 
manner as Bolton does from the north; but the 
castle buildings are entirely different, for Middle- 
ham consists of a square Norman keep, very massive 
and lofty, surroimded at a short distance by a 
strong wall and other buildings, also of consider- 
able height, built in the Decorated period, when 
the Nevilles were in possession of the stronghold. 
The Norman keep dates from the year 1190, when 
Robert Fitz Randolph, grandson of Ribald, a 
brother of the Earl of Richmond, began to build 
the Castle. It was, however, in later times, when 
Middleham had come to the Nevilles by marriage, 
that really notable events took place in this fortress. 
It was here that Warwick, the * King-maker,' held 
Edward IV. prisoner in 1467, and in Part III. of 
the play of 'King Henry VI.,' Scene V. of the 
fourth act is laid in a park near Middleham Castle. 


Richard III.'s only son, Edward Prince of Wales, 
was bom here in 1476, the property having come 
into Richard's possession by his marriage with 
Anne Neville. The tower in which the boy was 
bom is pointed out to-day, but how the knowledge 
has been preserved I am quite unable to say. 
When he was only eight years old, this little 
Prince died in the castle in which he had first seen 
the light 

The efforts to blow up the projecting towers of 
the Norman portion of the castle are most plainly 
visible, but the splendid masonry, like that of Corfe, 
in the Isle of Purbeck, has held together, although 
great gaps have been torn out below, so that one 
can scarcely imderstand why the upper part has 
not coUapsed. The church contains some interesting 
details, but they are not very apparent to the unin- 
formed, to whom the building might appear some- 
what duU. All can, however, be interested in the 
old cross in the market-place, and also in the Swine 
Cross in the upper market, which shows the battered 
shape of some animal, carved either in the form of 
the boar of Richard III. or the bear of Warwick. 

We have already seen Leybum Shawl from near 
Wensley, but its charm can only be appreciated by 
seeing the view up the dale from its larch-crowned 


This is ooe of the spots in this beaatifal dale that 
rtpays a visit a thousandfold. The effects are best on 
a dear day, when sunlight and shadows are chasing 
one another over the hills and woodlands. 





B L 


termination. Perhaps if we had seen nothing of 
Wensleydale, and the wonderful views it offers, we 
should he more inclined to regard this somewhat 
popular spot with greater veneration; but after 
having explored both sides of the dale, and seen 
many views of a very similar character, we cannot 
help thinking that the vista is somewhat over- 
rated. Leybum itself is a cheerful little town, 
with a modem church and a very wide main street 
which forms a most extensive market-place. There 
is a bull-ring stiU visible in the great open space, 
but beyond this and the view from the Shawl 
Leybum has few attractions, except its position as 
a centre or a starting-place from which to explore 
the romantic neighbourhood. 

As we leave Leybum we get a most beautiful 
view up Coverdale, with the two Whemsides 
standing out most conspicuously at the head of the 
vaUey, and it is this last view of Coverdale, and the 
great vaUey from which it branches, that remains 
in the mind as one of the finest pictures of this most 
remarkable portion of Yorkshire. 





We have come out of Wensleydale past the ruins 
of the great Cistercian abbey of Jervaulx, which 
Conan, Earl of Richmond, moved from Askrigg to 
a kindlier climate, and we have passed through the 
quiet little town of Masham, famous for its fair in 
September, when sometimes as many as 70,000 
sheep, including great numbers of the fine Wensley- 
dale breed, are sold, and now we are at Ripon. 
It is the largest town we have seen since we lost 
sight of Richmond in the wooded recesses of Swale- 
dale, and though we are still close to the Ure, we 
are on the very edge of the dale country, and miss 
the feUs that lie a httle to the west. The evening 
has settled down to steady rain, and the market- 
place is running with water that reflects the lights 
in the shop-windows and the dark outline of the 
obelisk in the centre. This erection is suspiciously 
called ' the Cross,' and it made its appearance nearly 

116 15 — 2 


seventy years before the one at RichmoncL Gent 
says it cost £564 lis. 9d., and that it is ' one of the 
finest in England.' I could, no doubt, with the 
smallest trouble discover a description of the real 
cross it supplanted, but if it were anything half as 
fine as the one at Richmond, I should merely be 
moved to say harsh things of John Aislabie, who was 
Mayor in 1702, when the obelisk was erected, and 
therefore I will leave the matter to others. It is, 
perhaps, an un-Christian occupation to go about the 
country quarrelling with the deeds of recent genera- 
tions, though I am always grateful for any traces 
of the centuries that have gone which have been 
allowed to survive. With this thought still before 
me, I am startled by a long-drawn-out blast on a 
horn, and, looking out of my window, which com- 
mands the whole of the market-place, I can see 
beneath the light of a lamp an old-fashioned figure 
wearing a three-cornered hat. When the last 
quavering note has come from the great circular 
horn, the man walks slowly across the wet cobble- 
stones to the obelisk, where I watch him wind 
another blast just like the first, and then another, 
and then a third, immediately after which he walks 
briskly away and disappears down a turning. In 
the light of morning I discover that the horn was 


blown in front of the Town Hall, whose stucco 
front bears the inscription: * Except ye Lord 
keep ye cittie, ye Wakeman waketh in vain.' The 
antique spelling is, of course, unable to give a 
wrong impression as to the age of the building, for 
it shows its period so plainly that one scarcely 
needs to be told that it was built in 1801, although 
it could not so easily be attributed to the notorious 
Wyatt There are still a few quaint houses to be 
seen in Ripon, and there clings to the streets a 
certain flavour of antiquity. It is the minster, 
nevertheless, that raises the *city' above the 
average Yorkshire town. The west front, with 
its twin towers, is to some extent the most 
memorable portion of the great church. It is the 
work of Archbishop Walter Gray, and is a most 
beautiful example of the pure Early English style. 
Inside there is a good deal of transitional Norman 
work to be seen. The central tower was built in 
this period, but now presents a most remarkable 
appearance, owing to its partial reconstruction in 
Perpendicular times, the arch that fisices the nave 
having the southern pier higher than the Norman 
one, and in the later style, so that the arch is lop- 
sided. As a building in which to study the growth 
of Elnglish Gothic architecture, I can scarcely think 


it possible to find anything better, all the periods 
being very clearly represented. The choir has 
much sumptuous carved woodwork, and the 
misereres are full of quaint detaiL In the library 
there is a collection of very early printed books 
and other relics of the minster that add very 
greatly to the interest of the place. 

The monument to Hugh Ripley, who was the last 
Wakeman of Ripon and first Mayor in 1604, is on 
the north side of the nave fiicing the entrance to the 
crypt, popularly called * St Wilfiid's Needle/ A 
rather difficult flight of steps goes down to a narrow 
passage leading into a cylindrically vaulted cell 
with niches in the walls. At the north-east comer 
is the curious slit or ' Needle ' that has been thought 
to have been used for purposes of trial by ordeal, 
the innocent person being able to squeeze through 
the narrow opening. In reality it is probably 
nothing more than an arrangement for lighting 
two ceUs with one lamp. The crypt is of such 
a plainly Roman type, and is so similar to the one 
at Hexham, that it is generally accepted as dating 
fix)m the early days of Christianity in Yorkshire, 
and there can be little doubt that it is a relic of 
Wilfrid's church in those early times. 

At a very convenient distance from Ripon, and 


In its outline Ripon suggests Westminster, although 
the west front with its twin towers is Eariy English 
and not classic. Underneath the present building 
is the Saxon crypt of Wilfrid's church, dating from 
the seventh century. 


approached by a pleasant lane, are the lovely 
glades of Studley Royal, the noble park containing 
the ruins of Fountains Abbey. The surroundings 
of the great Cistercian monastery are so magni- 
ficent, and the roofless church is so impressively 
solemn, that, although the place is visited by many 
thousands every year, yet, if you choose a day 
when the weather or some other circumstances 
keep other people away, you might easily imagine 
that you were visiting the park and ruins as a 
special privilege, and not as one of the public who, 
through Lord Bipon's kindness, are allowed to 
come and go with very few restrictions beyond 
the pa3rment of a shilling. 

Just after leaving the lodge there appears on 
the right a most seductive glade, overhung by 
some of the remarkable trees that give the park 
its great fascination. The grassy slopes disappear 
in shadowy green recesses in the foliage, in much 
the fashion of the forest scenes depicted in tapes- 
tries. It is just such a background as the Eliza- 
bethans would have loved to fill with the mytho- 
logical beings that figured so largely in their polite 
conversation. Down below the beautifiilly-kept 
pathway runs the Skell, but so transformed fix)m 
its early character that you would imagine the 



crescent-shaped lakes and the strip of smooth 
water were in no way connected with the moun- 
tain-stream that comes off Dallowgill Moor. It 
is particularly charming that the peeps of the 
water, bordered by smooth turf that occupies the 
bottom of the steep and narrow valley, are only 
had at intervals through a great hedge of clipped 
yew. The paths wind round the densely-wooded 
slopes, and give a dozen different views of each 
mass of trees, each temple, and each bend of the 
river. At last, from a considerable height, you 
have the lovely view of the abbey ruins illustrated 
here. At every season its charm is unmistakable, 
and even if no stately tower and no roofless arches 
fiUed the centre of the prospect, the scene would 
be almost as memorable. It is only one of the 
many pictures in the park that a retentive memory 
will hold as some of the most remarkable in England. 
Among the ruins the turf is kept in perfect 
order, and it is pleasant merely to look upon the 
contrast of the green carpet that is so evenly laid 
between the dark stonework. The late-Norman 
nave, with its solemn double line of round columns, 
the extremely graceful arches of the Chapel of the 
Nine Altars, and the magnificent vaulted per- 
spective of the dark cellarium of the lay-brothers. 


are perhaps the most fascinating portions of the 
buildings. I might be well compared with the 
last abbot but one, William Thirsk, who resigned 
his post, foreseeing the coming Dissolution, and 
was therefore called 'a varra fole and a misereble 
ideote,' if I attempted in the short space available 
to give any detailed account of the abbey or its 
wonderful past 1 have perhaps said enough to 
insist on its charms, and I know that all who 
endorse my statements will, after seeing Fountains, 
read with delight the books that are devoted to 
its story. 



1ft— 2 



It is sometimes said that Ejiaresborough is an 
overrated town from the point of view of its 
attractiveness to visitors, but this depends very 
much upon what we hope to find there. If we 
expect to find lasting pleasure in contemplating 
the Dropping Well, or the pathetic little exhibi- 
tion of petrified objects in the Mother Shipton 
Inn, we may be prepared for disappointment. It 
seems strange that the real and lasting charms of 
the town should be overshadowed by such popular 
and much-advertised < sights.' The first view of 
the town from the 'high' bridge is so full of 
romance that if there were nothing else to in- 
terest us in the place we would scarcely be dis- 
appointed. The Nidd, flowing smoothly at the 
foot of the precipitous heights upon which the 
church and the old roofs appear, is spanned by a 
great stone viaduct. This mighty have been so 



great a blot upon the scene that Ejiaresborough 
would have lost half its charm. Strangely enough, 
we find just the reverse is the case, for this rail- 
way bridge, with its battlemented parapets and 
massive piers, is now so weathered that it has 
melted into its surroundings as though it had 
come into existence as long ago as the oldest 
building visible. The old Ejiaresborough kept 
well to the heights adjoining the castle, and even 
to-day there are only a handful of later buildings 
down by the river margin. The view, therefore, 
is still unspoiled, and its appearance when the 
light is coming from the west can be seen in the 
illustration given here. 

When we have crossed the bridge, and have 
passed along a narrow roadway perched well above 
tiie river, we come to one of the many interesting 
houses that help to keep alive the old-world flavour 
of the town. Only a few years ago the old manor- 
house had a most picturesque and rather remarkable 
exterior, for its plaster walls were covered with a 
large black and white chequer-work, and its over- 
hanging eaves and trailing creepers gave it a charm 
that has since then been quite lost. The restora- 
tion which recently took place has entirely altered 
the character of the exterior, but inside everything 


has been preserved with just the care that should 
have been expended outside as well. There are 
oak-wainscoted parlours, oak dressers, and richly- 
carved fireplaces in the low-ceiled rooms, each one 
containing furniture much of the period of the 
house. Upstairs there is a beautiful old bedroom 
lined with oak, like those on the floor below, and 
its interest is greatly enhanced by the story of 
Oliver Cromwell's residence in the house, for he 
is believed to have used this particular bedroom. 
Slight alterations have taken place, but the oak 
bedstead which he is said to have occupied, minus 
its tester and with its posts cut down to half their 
height, still remains to carry us swiftly back to the 
last siege of the castle. A very curious story is 
told in the GentlemarCs Magazine of March, 1791. 
It gives an anecdote of Oliver Cromwell which 
Sir John Groodricke used to relate. When he was 
quite a small boy, he was told by a very old woman 
who had formerly attended his mother. Lady 
Goodricke, how Oliver Cromwell came to lodge 
at this house when she was but a young girl. 
' Having heard so much talk about the man,' she 
said, < I looked at him with wonder. Being ordered 
to take a pan of coals and air his bed, I could 
not, during the operation, forbear peeping over my 


shoulder several times to observe this extraordinary 
person, who was seated at the fireside of the room 
untying his garters. Having aired the bed, I went 
out, and, shutting the door after me, stopped and 
peeped through the keyhole, when I saw him rise 
£rom his feet, advance to the bed and fall on his 
knees, in which attitude I left him for some time. 
When I returned again I found him still at prayer, 
and this was his custom every night so long as he 
stayed at our house, from which I concluded he 
must be a good man, and this opinion I always 
maintained afterwards, though 1 heard him very 
much blamed and exceedingly abused/ 

Higher up the hill stands the church with a 
square central tower surmounted by a small spike. 
It still bears the marks of the fire made by the 
Scots during their disastrous descent upon York- 
shire after Edward II.'s defeat at Bannockbum. 
Led by Sir James Douglas, the Scots poured into 
the prosperous plains and even the dales of York- 
shire. They burned Northallerton and Borough- 
bridge, and then came on to Knaresborough. 
When the town had been captured and burnt, the 
savage invaders endeavoured to bum out the in- 
habitants who had taken reftige in the church- 
tower, but the stoutness of the stone walls pre- 


vented their efforts to destroy the building. It is 
quite possible that the roofe at that time were 
thatched, for some years ago much partially-burnt 
straw was discovered in the roof. The chapel on 
the north side of the chancel contains the interest- 
ing monuments of the old Yorkslure femily of 
Slingsby. The altar-tomb in the centre bears the 
recumbent effigies of Francis Slingsby, who died in 
1600, and Mary his wife. Another monument shows 
Sir William Slingsby, who accidentally discovered 
the first spring at Harrogate. The Slingsbys, who 
were cavaliers, produced a martyr in the cause of 
Charles I. This was the distinguished Sir Henry, 
who, in 1658, 'being beheaded by order of the 
tyrant Cromwell, . . . was translated to a better 
place.' So says the inscription on a large slab of 
black marble in the floor of the chapeL The last 
of the male line of the family was Sir Charles 
Slingsby, who was most unfortunately drowned 
by the upsetting of a ferry-boat in the Ure in 
February, 1869. 

We can wander through the quaint little streets 
above the chiu'ch and find much to interest us, 
particularly in the market-place, although quite a 
number of the really ancient little houses that had 
come down to quite recent years have now passed 



away. On one side of the market-place stands a 
most curious little chemist's shop, with two small- 
paned windows, very low and picturesque, that 
slightly overhang the footway. There seems to be 
small doubt that this is the oldest of all the long- 
established chemists' shops that exist in England. 
It dates from the year 1720, when John Beckwith 
started the business, and the conservatism of the 
trade is borne out by the preservation of some 
interesting survivals of those early Grcorgian days. 
There are strangely-shaped old shop-bottles, mortars, 
and strips of leather that were used for quicksilver 
in the days when it was worn as a charm against 
some forms of disease. 

Just above the manor-house there is still to be 
seen one of the last of the thatched houses, at 
one time common in the town. It is the old 
Vicarage, and it still contains oak beams and some 
good panelling. When we get beyond the market- 
place, we come out upon an elevated grassy space 
upon the top of a great mass of rock whose per- 
pendicular sides drop down to a bend of the Nidd. 
Around us are scattered the ruins of Knaresborough 
Castle — ^poor and of small account if we compare 
them with Richmond, although the site is very 
similar ; where before the siege in 1644 there must 


have been a most imposing mass of towers and 
curtain walls. Of the great keep, only the lowest 
story is at all complete, for above the first-floor 
there are only two sides to the tower, and these are 
battered and dishevelled. The walls enclosed about 
the same area as Richmond, but they are now so 
greatly destroyed that it is not easy to gain a clear 
idea of their position. There were no less than 
eleven towers, of which there now remain frag- 
ments of six, part of a gateway, and behind the old 
courthouse there are evidences of a secret cell. 
An underground sally-port opening into the moat, 
which was a dry one, is reached by steps leading 
from the castle yard. The passage was opened out 
in 1890, and in it were discovered a considerable 
number of stone balls, probably used for the 
' balistas ' mentioned in one of the castle records. 
It is a dismal fietct to remember that, despite the 
perfect repair of the castle in the reign of Elizabeth, 
and the comparatively small amount of destruction 
caused during the siege conducted by Lilbume and 
Fairfax, Knaresborough's great fortress was reduced 
to piles of ruins as the result of an order of the 
Council of State not many years after its capture. 
Subsequently, as in the case of such splendid 
structures as Richard I.'s Ch&teau Gaillard, the 



broken remains were cheap building stone for the 
townsfolk, and seeing that in those days archa^ 
ological societies had yet to be instituted, who can 
blame the townsfolk ? 

Lord Lytton gives a story of the siege that we 
may recall, seeing that there is so little to vividly 
bring to mind the scene during the strenuous 
defence of the castle by the plucky townsfolk. 
* A youth,' we are told, * whose father was in the 
garrison, was accustomed nightly to get into the 
deep, dry moat, climb up the glacis, and put pro- 
visions through a hole where the father stood ready 
to receive them. He was perceived at length ; the 
soldiers fired on him.' The poor lad was made 
prisoner, and sentenced to be hanged in quite 
medieval fashion within sight of the garrison. 
There was, however, a certain lady who, with great 
difficulty, prevented this barbarous order from being 
carried out, and when the castle had capitulated 
and the soldiers had left the boy was released. 

The keep is in the Decorated style, and appears 
to have been built in the reign of Edward II. 
Below the ground is a vaulted dungeon, dark and 
horrible in its hopeless strength, which is only 
emphasized by the tiny air-hole that lets in scarcely 
a glimmering of light, but reveals a thickness of 


15 feet of masonry that must have made a prisoner's 
heart sick It is generally understood that Boling- 
broke spared Richard II. such confinement as this, 
and that when he was a prisoner in the keep he 
occupied the large room on the floor above the 
kitchen. It is now a mere platform, with the walls 
running up on two sides only. The kitchen (some- 
times called the guard-room) has a perfectly pre- 
served roof of heavy groining, supported by two 
pillars, and it contains a collection of interesting 
objects, rather difficult to see, owing to the poor 
light that the windows allow. The small local 
guide-book gives us a thrill by stating that a very 
antique-looking chest is 'said to have been the 
property of William the Conqueror.' We hope it 
was, but long for some proofe. The spring man- 
trap is of no great age, and it was in use not many 
years ago, when the owner was in the habit of 
exhibiting it on market days with a notice upon it 
to inform the public that every night he adjusted 
its deadly jaws in some part of his orchard. There 
is much to interest us among the wind-swept ruins 
and the views into the wooded depths of the Nidd, 
and we would rather stay here and trace back the 
history of the castle and town to the days of that 
Norman Serlo de Burgh, who is the first mentioned 


in its annals, than go down to the tripper-worn 
Dropping Well and the Mother Shipton Inn. 

When we have determined to see what these 
* sights' have to oflRer, we find that the inn is a 
&irly picturesque one, but with scarcely a quarter 
of the interest of the old chemist's shop we saw in 
the market-place. The walk along the river bank 
among a fine growth of beeches is pleasant enough, 
and would be enjoyable if it were not for the &jct 
that it leads to a ' sight ' which has to be paid for. 
Under the overhanging edge of the limestone crag 
hang a row of eccentric objects constantly under 
the dripping water that trickles down the face of 
the rock, which is itself formed entirely by the 
petrifying action of the spring some yards away 
from the river. The water being strongly charged 
with lime, everything within its reach, including 
the row of * curiosities ' in course of manufacture, 
are coated over and finally reduced to limestone, 
the process taking about two years. When we 
have come away from the well we feel we have 
seen all the sights we are equal to, and gladly 
leave St. Robert's Chapel and the other caves to 
be seen at some more convenient season. The 
story of Eugene Aram and the murder of Daniel 
Clark is a page in the history of Knaresborough 


that may perhaps add mterest to the town, but it 
is certainly likely to rob the place of some of its 
charm, so without wasting any time on a visit to 
the cave where the murdered man's body was 
buried, we go out on the road to Harrogate. 

The distance between the towns is short, and 
soon after passing Starbeckwe come to Harrogate's 
extensive common known as the Stray. We follow 
the grassy space, when it takes a sharp turn to the 
north, and are soon in the centre of the great 
watering-place. Among the buildings that rise up 
in imposing masses on each side of us we can see 
no traces of anything that is not of recent date, and 
we find nothing at all to suggest that the place 
really belongs to Yorkshire. 

Walking or being pulled in bath-chairs along the 
carefiilly-made paths are all sorts and conditions of 
invalids, and interspersed among them are numbers 
of people who, if they have any ailments curable 
by the waters, are either in very advanced stages 
of convalescence or are extremely expert in hiding 
any traces of ill-health. 

There is one spot in Harrogate that has a sug- 
gestion of the early days of the town. It is down 
in the corner where the valley gardens almost Join 
the extremity of the Stray. There we find the 


Royal Pump Room that made its appearance in 
early Victorian times, and its circtdar counter is 
still crowded every morning by a throng of water- 
drinkers. We wander through the hilly streets 
and gaze at the pretentious hotels, the baths, the 
huge Kursaal, the hydropathic establishments, the 
smart shops, and the many churches, and then, 
having seen enough of the buildings, we find a seat 
supported by green serpents, from which to watch 
the passers-by. A white-haired and withered man, 
having the stamp of a military life in his still erect 
bearing, paces slowly by* then come two elaborately 
dressed men of perhaps twenty-five. They wear 
brown suits and patent boots, and their bowler hats 
are pressed down on the backs of their heads. Then 
nursemaids with perambulators pass, followed by 
a lady in expensive garments, who talks volubly to 
her two pretty daughters. When we have tired 
of the pavements and the people, we bid farewell 
to them without much regret, being in a mood for 
simplicity and solitude, and go away towards 
Wharfedale with the pleasant tune that a band was 
pla3ang still to remind us for a time of the scenes 
we have left behind. 





Otley is the first place we come to in the long 
and beautiful valley of the Wharfe. It is a busy 
little town where printing machinery is manu- 
&ctured and worsted mills appear to thrive. Im- 
mediately to the south rises the steep ridge known 
as the Chevin. It answers the same purpose as 
Leybum Shawl in giving a great view over the 
dale; the elevation of over 900 feet, being much 
greater than the Shawl, of course commands a 
far more extensive panorama, and thus, in clear 
weather, York Minster appears on the eastern 
horizon and the Ingleton Fells on the west. 

Famley Hall, on the north side of the Wharfe, 
is an Elizabethan house dating from 1581, and it 
is still farther of interest on account of Turner's 
frequent visits, covering a great number of years, 
and for the very fine collection of his paintings 
preserved there. The oak-panelling and coeval 

189 18—2 


furniture are particularly good, and among the 
historical relics there is a remarkable memento of 
Marston Moor in the sword that Cromwell carried 
during the battle. 

A few miles higher up the dale stands the big 
'hydropathic/ and the station of Ben Rhydding. 
The name sounds very Scottish, and the man who 
started the establishment came from beyond the 
Border. He found that the site he had selected 
was marked in the Ordnance maps as a ' bean rhyd- 
ding/ or fallow land, so he decided to drop the ' a ' 
in ' bean/ and in that way get a good Scottish flavour 
into the name, and now its origin is being quite 
forgotten. Only a short distance beyond is the 
considerable town of Ilkley, where hotels and vast 
hydropathic establishments flourish exceedingly, 
and villas are constantly adding to the size of 
the place, which had a population of only 500 
half a century ago. Ilkley has an old well-house, 
where the water's purity is its chief attraction. 
The church contains a thirteenth-century efligy 
of Sir Andrew de Middleton, and also three pre- 
Norman crosses without arms. On the heights to 
the south of Ilkley is Rumbles Moor, and from the 
Cow and Calf rocks there is a very fine view. 
Ilkley is particularly well situated for walks up 


the dales and over the moors, as a glance at the 
map at the end of this volume will show. 

About six miles still further up Wharfedale 
Bolton Abbey stands by a bend of the beautiful 
river. The ruins are most picturesquely placed 
on ground slightly raised above the banks of the 
Wharfe. Of the domestic buildings practically 
nothing remains, while the choir of the church, 
the central tower, and north transepts are roof- 
less and extremely beautifiil ruins. The nave is 
roofed in, and is used as a church at the present 
time, and it is probable that services have been 
held in the building practically without any in- 
terruption for 700 years. Hiding the Early 
English west end is the lower half of a fine Per- 
pendicular tower, commenced by Richard Moone, 
the last Prior. Followers of Ruskin speak of this 
as a disfigurement, and I imagine that they also 
despise the tower of Fountains Abbey because it 
belongs to the same period. The taste displayed 
in the architecture and decoration of Brantwood 
does not encourage me to accept Ruskin's pro- 
nouncements on the latest phase of Gothic develop- 
ment, and I need only point to the splendid western 
towers of Beverley Minster in support of my in- 
tense admiration for the dispised Perpendicular style. 


The great east window of the choir has lost its 
tracery, and the Decorated windows at the sides 
are in the same vacant state, with the exception 
of the one that appears in the illustration given 
here. It is blocked up to half its height, like 
those on the north side, but the flamboyant tracery 
of the head is perfect and very graceful. Lower 
down there is some late-Norman interlaced arcad- 
ing resting on carved corbels. 

There is something singularly attractive in the 
views of the woods that overhang the river when 
we see them framed by the great stone arches and 
fluted piers. We can hear the rich notes of a 
blackbird, and the gentle rush of the river where 
it washes the stony beach close at hand, and there 
is present that wonderful silence that broods over 
ruined monasteries. 

From the abbey we can take our way by 
various beautifril paths to the exceedingly rich 
scenery of Bolton woods. Some of the reaches 
of the Wharfe through this deep and heavily- 
timbered part of its course are really enchanting, 
and not even the knowledge that excursion parties 
frequently traverse the paths can rob the views of 
their charm. It is always possible, by taking a 
little trouble, to choose occasions for seeing these 


From under the axx:hes of the central tower one is 
looking out over the course of the river Wharfe. 
The abbey was founded in the twelfth century for 
monks of the Order of St Augustine. 


PUBLIC Library 



beautiful but very popular places when they are 
unspoiled by the sights and sounds of holiday- 
makers, and in the autumn, when the woods have 
an almost undreamed-of brilliance, the walks and 
drives are generally left to the birds and the rabbits. 
At the Strid the river, except in flood-times, is con- 
fined to a deep channel through the rocks, in 
places scarcely more than a yard in width. It is 
one of those spots that accumulate stories and 
legends of the individuals who have lost their 
lives, or saved them, by endeavouring to leap the 
narrow channel. That several people have been 
drowned here is painfully true, for the temptation 
to try the seemingly easy but very riisky jump is 
more than many can resist. 

Higher up, the river is crossed by the three 
arches of Barden Bridge, a fine old structure 
bearing the inscription : ' This bridge was repayred 
at the charge of the whole West R . . . . 1676.' 
To the south of the bridge stands the pictiu-esque 
Tudor house called Barden Tower, which was at 
one time a keeper's lodge in the manorial forest of 
Wharfedale. It was enlarged by the tenth Lord 
Clifford — the * Shepherd Lord' whose strange 
life-story is mentioned in the next chapter in 
connection with Skipton — but having become 


ruinous, it was repaired in 1658 by that indefatig- 
able restorer of the fiimily castles, the Lady Anne 

At this point there is a road across the moors to 
Pateley Bridge, in Nidderdale, and if we wish to 
explore that valley, which is now partially filled 
with a lake formed by the damming of the Nidd 
for Bradford's water-supply, we must leave the 
Wharfe at Barden. If we keep to the more 
beautiful dale we go on through the pretty village 
of Bumsall to Grassington, where a branch 
railway has recently made its appearance from 

The dale from this point appears more and 
more wild, and the fells become gaunt and bare, 
with scars often fringing the heights on either side. 
We keep to the east side of the river, and soon 
after having a good view up Littondale, a beautiful 
branch valley, we come to KettlewelL This tidy and 
cheerful village stands at the foot of Great Whem- 
side, one of the twin feUs that we saw overlooking 
the head of Coverdale when we were at Middle- 
ham. Its comfortable little inns make Kettlewell 
a very fine centre for rambles in the wild dales that 
run up towards the head of Wharfedale. 

Buckden is a small village situated at the 


junction of the road from Aysgarth, and it has 
the beautiful scenery of Langstrothdale Chase 
stretching away to the west. About a mile higher 
up the dale we come to the curious old church 
of Hubberholme standing close to the river, and 
forming a most attractive picture in conjunction 
with the bridge and the masses oi trees just 
beyond. At Baisgill we leave the road, which, 
if continued, would take us over the moors by 
Dodd Fell, and then down to Hawes. The track 
goes across Horse Head Moor, and it is so very 
slightly marked on the bent that we only follow it 
with difficulty. It is steep in places, for in a short 
distance it climbs up to nearly 2,000 feet. The 
tawny hollows in the fell-sides, and the utter wild- 
ness spread all around, are more impressive when 
we are right away from anything that can even be 
called a path. The sheep just remind us of the 
civilization that endeavours to make what use it 
can of these desolate places, and when none are in 
sight we are left alone with the sky and the heaving 
brown hills. 

When we reach the highest point before the 
rapid descent into Littondale we have another 
great view, with Pen-y-ghent close at hand and 
Fountains Fell more to the south. At the bottom 



of the dale flows the Skirfeu^ and we follow it past 
the gray old village of Litton down to Amcliffe, 
where there is a nice inn by such a pleasant green 
that we are tempted to stay there rather than 
hurry on to Skipton. 





When I think of Skipton I am never quite sure 
whether to look upon it as a manufacturing 
centre or as one of the picturesque market towns 
of the dale country. If you arrive by train, you come 
out of the station upon such vast cotton-mills, 
and such a strong flavour of the bustling activity 
of the southern parts of Yorkshire, that you might 
easily imagine that the capital of Craven has no 
part in any holiday-making portion of the county. 
But if you come by road from Bolton Abbey, you 
enter the place at a considerable height, and, passing 
round the margin of the wooded Haw Beck, you 
have a fine view of the castle, as well as the church 
and the broad and not unpleasing market-place. 
Beyond these appear the chimneys and the smoke 
of the manufacturing and railway side of the town, 
almost entirely separate from the old world and 
historic portion on the higher ground. When you 



are on the castle ramparts the factories appear much 
less formidable — in fact, they seem to shrink into 
quite a small area owing to the great bare hills 
that rise up on all sides. 

On this sunny morning, as we make our way 
towards the castle, we find the attractive side of 
Skipton entirely unspoiled by any false impression 
given by the factories. The smoke which the 
chimneys make appears in the form of a thin white 
mist against the brown moors beyond, and every- 
thing is very clean and very bright after heavy 
rain. The gateway of the castle is flanked by two 
squat towers. They are circular and battlemented, 
and between them upon a parapet, which is higher 
than the towers themselves, appears the motto of 
the Cliffords, * Desormais ' (hereafter), in open stone 
letters. Beyond the gateway stands a great mass 
of buildings with two large round towers just in 
front ; to the right, across a sloping lawn, appears 
the more modern and inhabited portion of the 
castle. The squat round towers gain all our atten- 
tion, but as we pass through the doorways into the 
courtyard beyond, we are scarcely prepared for the 
astonishingly beautiful quadrangle that awaits us. 
It is small, and the centre is occupied by a great 
yew-tree, whose tall, purply-red trunk goes up to 


The buildings of this portion of the castle, although 
in such good preservation, are not occupied. 





R L 


the level of the roofs without any branches or 
even twigs, but at that height it spreads out freely 
into a feathery canopy of dark green, covering 
almost the whole of the square of sky visible from 
the courtyard. The base of the trunk is surrounded 
by a massive stone seat, with plain shields on each 
side. The sunlight that comes through this green 
network is very much subdued when it jEsdls upon 
walls and the pavement, which becomes strewn 
over with circular splashes of whiteness. The 
masonry of the walls on every side, where not 
showing the original red of the sandstone, has 
been weathered into beautiful emerald tints, and 
to a height of two or three feet .there is a consider- 
able growth of moss on the worn mouldings. The 
general appearance of the courtyard suggests more 
that of a manor-house than a castle, the windows 
and doorways being purely Tudor. The circular 
towers and other portions of the walls belong to 
the time of Edward II., and there is also a round- 
headed door that cannot be later than the time 
of Robert de Romill^, one of the Conqueror's 
followers. The rooms that overlook the shady 
quadrangle are very much decayed and entirely 
unoccupied. They include an old dining-haU of 
much picturesqueness, kitchens, pantries, and 


butteries, some of them only lighted by narrow 
windows on the outer faces of the wall. There 
are many large bedrooms and other dark apart- 
ments in the towers. Only a little restoration 
would be required to put a great portion of these 
into habitable condition, for they are structurally 
in a good state of repair, as may be seen to some 
extent from the picture of the courtyard repro- 
duced here. The destruction caused diudng the 
siege which took place during the Civil War might 
have brought Skipton Castle to much the same 
condition as Knaresborough but for the wealth and 
energy of that remarkable woman Lady Anne 
Clifford, who was bom here in 1589. She was 
the only surviving child of George, the third Earl 
of Cumberland, and grew up under the care of her 
mother, Margaret, Countess of Cumberland, of 
whom Lady Anne used to speak as 'my blessed 
mother.' Her reverence for the memory of this 
admirable parent is also shown in the feeling which 
prompted her to put up a pillar by the roadside, 
between Penrith and Appleby, to commemorate 
their last meeting, and, besides this, the Lady 
Anne left a sum of money to be given to the 
poor at that spot on a certain day every year. 
After her first marriage with Richard Sackville, 


Earl of Dorset, Lady Anne married the profligate 
Philip, Earl of Pembroke and Montgomery. She 
was widowed a second time in 1649, and after that 
began the period of her mmiifieenee and usefulness. 
With immense enthusiasm, she undertook the 
work of repairing the castles that belonged to her 
family. Brougham, Appleby, Barden Tower, and 
Pendragon being restored as well as Skipton. We 
can see in the towers where the later work begins, 
and the custodian who shows us through the apart- 
ments points out many details which are invisible 
without the aid of his candle. 

Besides attending to the decayed castles, the 
Countess repaired no less than seven churches, 
and to her we owe the carefiil restoration of the 
parish church of Skipton. She began the repairs 
to the sacred building even before she turned her 
attention to the wants of the castle. In her 
private memorials we read how, ^ In the summer 
of 1665 ... at her own charge, she caus'd the 
steeple of Skipton Church to be built up againe, 
which was pull'd down in the time of the late 
Warrs, and leaded it over, and then repaired some 
part of the Church and new glaz'd the Windows, 
in every of which Window she put quaries, stained 
with a yellow colour, these two letters — viz., A. P., 



and under them the year 1655. • . . Besides, 
she raised up a noble Tomb of Black Marble in 
memory of her Warlike Father/ This magnificent 
altar-tomb still stands within the Comimunion rails 
on the south side of the chancel. It is adorned 
with seventeen shields, and Whitaker doubted 
^ whether so great an assemblage of noble bearings 
can be found on the tomb of any other English- 
man/ This third Earl was a notable figure in 
the reign of Elizabeth, and having for a time been 
a great favourite with the Queen, he received 
many of the posts of honoiu* she loved to bestow. 
He was a skilful and daring sailor, helping to defeat 
the Spanish Armada, and building at his own 
expense one of the greatest fighting ships of his 
time, Elizabeth — ^who, like the present German 
Emperor, never lost an opportunity of fostering 
the growth of her navy — being present at the 
launching ceremony. 

The memorials of Lady Anne give a description 
of her appearance in the manner of that time: 
* The colour of her eyes was black like her Father's,' 
we are told, * with a peak of hair on her forehead, 
and a dimple in her chin, like her father. The 
hair of her head was brown and very thick, and 
so long that it reached to the calf of her legs when 


she stood upright ; and when she caused these 
memorials of herself to be written (she had passed 
the year 68 of her age), she said the perfections 
of her mind were much above those of Iter body ; 
she ,had a strong and copious memory, a sound 
judgment, and a discerning spirit, and so much of a 
strong imagination in her as that at many times 
even her dreams and apprehensions beforehand 
proved true.' The Countess died at the great 
age of eighty-seven at Brougham Castle in West- 
moreland, and was buried in the Church of St. 
Lawrence at Appleby. 

We cannot leave these old towers of Skipton 
Castle without going back to the days of John, 
the ninth Lord Clifford, that * Bloody Clifford' 
who was one of the leaders of the Lancastrians 
at Wakefield, where his merciless slaughter earned 
him the title of *the Butcher.' He died by a 
chance arrow the night before the Battle of 
Towton, so fatal to the cause of Lancaster, and 
Lady Clifford and the children took refuge in 
her father's castle at Brough. For greater safety 
Henry, the heir, was placed under the care of a 
shepherd whose wife had nursed the boy's mother 
when a child. In this way the future baron grew 
up as an entirely uneducated shepherd lad, spending 



his days on the fells in the primitive fashion of the 
peasants of the fifteenth century. When he was 
about twelve years old Lady Clifford, hearing 
rumours that the whereabouts of her children had 
become known, sent the shepherd and his wife 
with the boy into an extremely inaccessible part 
of Cumberland. He remained there until his 
thirty-second year, when the Battle of Bosworth 
placed Henry VII. on the throne. Then the 
shepherd lord was brought to Londesborough, and 
when the family estates had been restored, he 
went back to Skipton Castle. The strangeness 
of his new life being irksome to him. Lord Clifford 
spent most of his time in Barden Forest at one 
of the keeper's lodges, which he adapted for his 
own use. There he hunted and studied astronomy 
and astrology with the canons of Bolton. 

At Flodden Field he led the men-at-arms from 
Craven, and showed that by his life of extreme 
simplicity he had in no way diminished the 
traditional valour of the Cliffords. When he died 
they buried him at Bolton Abbey, where many 
of his ancestors lay, and as his successor died after 
the dissolution of the monasteries, the ' Shepherd 
Lord' was the last to be biuied in that secluded 
spot by the Wharfe. 


Skipton has always been a central spot for the 
exploration of this southern portion of the dales, 
and since the Midland Railway has lately put 
out an arm to the north, there are lines going in 
five directions. The new branch that goes into 
Wharfedale stops just before it reaches Grassington, 
and has an intermediate station with a triple name 
in consideration of the fact that it is placed at 
almost exactly the same distance from the three 
villages of Hetton, Rylstone, and Cracoe. Whether 
we go by road or rail, we have good views of Flasby 
and Rylstone Fells as we pass along the course of 
EUer Beck to the romantically situated village 
made famous by Wordsworth's ballad of *The 
White Doe of Rylstone.' The site of the old 
manor-house where the Nortons lived may still 
be seen in a field to the east of the church. Owing 
to the part they took in the Rising of the North 
in 1569 the Nortons lost all their property in 
Yorkshire, and among the humble folk of Rylstone 
who shared in the rebellion there was Richard 
Ejitchen, Mr. Norton's butler, who lost much more, 
for he was executed at Ripon. From Hetton we 
follow a road to the west, and passing the hamlet 
of Winterbum, come to Airton, where there are 
some interesting old houses, one of them dating 


from the year of the Great Fire of London. 
Turning to the north, we come to Earby Malham, 
less than two miles off. It is a pretty little village 
with green limestone hills rising on all sides; a 
rushing beck connng off Kirby Fell takes its way 
past the church, and there is an old vicarage as 
well as some picturesque cottages. 

We find our way to a decayed lych-gate, whose 
stones are very black and moss-grown, and then 
get a close view of the Perpendicular church. 
The interior is fiill of interest, not only on account 
of the Norman font and the canopied niches in the 
pillars of the nave, but also for the old pews. The 
Malham people seemingly found great delight in 
recording their names on the woodwork of the 
pews, for carefully carved initials and dates appear 
very frequently. All the pews have been cut down 
to the accepted height of the present day with the 
exception of some on the north side which were 
occupied by the more important families, and these 
stiU retain their squareness and the high balus- 
trades above the panelled lower portions. One 
of the parish registers has the rare distinction 
of containing Oliver Cromwell's signature to a 
marriage. There is also the entry of the baptism 
on November 7, 1619, of John Lambert, who 


became famous as Major-General in the Romid- 
head army. 

Just under the moorland heights surrounding 
Malham Tarn is the other village of Malham. It 
is a charming spot, even in the gloom of a wintry 
afternoon. The houses look on to a strip of un- 
even green, cut in two, lengthways, by the Aire. 
We go across the clear and sparkling waters by a 
rough stone footbridge, and, making our way past 
a farm, find ourselves in a few minutes at Gordale 
Bridge. Here we abandon the switchback lane, 
and, climbing a wall, begin to make oiu* way along 
the side of the beck. The feUs drop down fairly 
sharply on each side, and in the failing light there 
seems no object in following the stream any ftirther, 
when quite suddenly the green slope on the right 
stands out from a scarred wall of rock beyond, and 
when we are abreast of the opening we find our- 
selves before a vast fissure that leads right into the 
heart of the fell. The great split is S-shaped in 
plan, so that when we advance into its yawning 
mouth we are surrounded by limestone clifis more 
than 800 feet high. If one visits Gordale Scar for 
the first time alone on a gloomy evening, as I have 
done, I can promise the most thrilling sensations 
to those who have yet to see this astonishing sight. 


It almost appeared to me as though I were 
dreammg, and that I was Aladin approaching 
the magician's palace. I had read some of the 
eighteenth-century writer's descriptions of the place, 
and imagined that their vivid accounts of the terror 
inspired by the overhanging rocks were mere 
exaggerations, but now I sympathize with every 
word. The scars overhang so much on the east 
side that there is not much space to get out of 
reach of the water that drips from every portion. 
Great masses of stone were lying upon the bright 
strip of turf, and among them I noticed some that 
could not have been there long; this made me 
keep close under the cliff in justifiable fear of 
another fall. I stared with apprehension at one 
rock that would not only kill, but completely bury, 
anyone upon whom it fell, and I thought those old 
writers had underrated the horrors of the place. 
Through a natural arch in the rocks that faced me 
came a foaming torrent broken up below into a 
series of cascades, and the roar of the waters in the 
confined space added much to the fear that was 
taking possession of me. It was owing to the 
cmious habit that waterfalls have of seeming to 
become suddenly louder that I must own to that 
sense of fearfulness, for at one moment the noise 


This is one of the most astonishing sights in York- 
shire. The gorge is a result of the Craven Fault — a 
geological dislocation that has also made the huge 
cliffs of Ma) ham Cove. The stream is the Aire. It 
can be seen coming through a natural arch high up 
among the rocks. 




sounded so suddenly diflferent that I was convinced 
that a considerable fall of stones had commenced 
among the crags overhead, and that in a moment 
they would crash into the narrow cleft. Conmion- 
sense seemed to urge an immediate retreat, for 
there was too much water coming down the falls 
to allow me to climb out that way, as I could 
otherwise have done. The desire to carry away 
some sort of picture of the fearsome place was, 
however, triumphant, and the result is given in this 

Wordsworth writes of 

* Grordale chasm, terrific as the lair 
Where the young lions couch,^ 

and he also describes it as one ci the grandest 
objects in nature. 

A further result of the Craven fault that pro- 
duced Gordale Scar can be seen at Malham Cove, 
about a mile away. There the cliff forms a curved 
front 285 feet high, facing the open meadows down 
below. The limestone is formed in layers of great 
thickness, dividing the face of the cliff into three 
fairly equal sections, the ledges formed at the com- 
mencement of each stratum allowing of the growth 
of bushes and small trees. A hard-pressed fox is 



said to have taken refuge on one of these pre- 
carious ledges, and finding his way stopped in front, 
he tried to turn, and in doing so fell and was 

At the base of the perpendicular £eu^ of the 
cliff the Aire flows fix)m a very slightly arched 
recess in the rocic It is a really remarkable stream 
in making its d^but without the slightest friss, 
for it is large enough at its very birth to be 
called a small river. Its modesty is a great loss to 
Yorkshire, for if, instead of gathering strength in 
the hidden places in the limestone fells, it were to 
keep to more rational methods, it would flow to 
the edge of the Cove, and there precipitate itself in 
majestic fashion into a great pool below. There is 
some reason for believing that on certain occasions 
in the past the stream has taken the more showy 
course, and if sufficient cement could be introduced 
into some of the larger fissures above, a fall might 
be induced to occur after every period of heavy 
rain. All the romance would perhaps disappear if 
we knew that the effect was artificial, and therefore 
we would no doubt be wiser to remain content with 
the Cove as it is. 





The track across the moor from Malham Cove to 
Settle camiot be recommended to anyone at night, 
owing to the extreme difficulty of keeping to the 
path without a very great familiarity with every 
yard of the way, so that when I merely suggested 
taking that route one wintry night the villagers 
protested vigorously. I therefore took the road 
that goes up from Kirby Malham, having borrowed 
a large hurricane lamp from the *Buck' Inn at 
Malham. Long before I reached the open moor I 
was enveloped in a mist that would have made the 
track quite invisible even where it was most plainly 
marked, and I blessed the good folk at Malham 
who had advised me to take the road rather than 
run the risks of the pot-holes that are a feature of 
the limestone fells. This moor is on the range 
of watersheds of Northern England, for it sends 
streams east and west that find their way into the 
Irish Sea and German Ocean. 



With the swinging lantern throwing vast shadows 
of my own figure upon the mist, and the stony road 
under my feet, I at length dropped down the steep 
descent into Settle, having seen no human being on 
the road since I left Kirby Malham. Even Settle 
was almost as lonely, for I had nearly reached a 
building called The Folly, which is near the middle 
of the town, before I met the first inhabitant 

In the morning I discovered that The Folly was 
the most notable house in the town, for its long 
stone fi*ont dates fi*om the time of Charles IL, and 
it is a very fine example of the most elaborate treat- 
ment of a house of that size and period to be found 
in the Craven district. Settle has a most distinctive 
feature in the possession of Castleberg, a steep lime- 
stone hill, densely wooded except at the very top, 
that rises sharply just behind the market-place. 
Before the trees were planted there seems to have 
been a simdial on the side of the hill, the precipi- 
tous sca:r on the top forming the gnomon. No one 
remembers this curious feature, although a print 
showing the numbers fixed upon the slope was 
published in 1778. The market-place has lost its 
curious old tolbooth, and in its place stands a town 
hall of good Tudor design. Departed also is much 
of the charm of the old Shambles that occupy a 


This grey old town in Ribblesdale is one of the 
quaintest in this part of Yorkshire. 

, ^,,"'8 NEW YORK 


central position in the square. The lower story, 
with big arches forming a sort of piazza in front of 
tiie butcher's and other shops, still remains in its 
old state, but the upper portion has been restored 
in the fullest sense of that comprehensive term. 

In the steep street that we came down on enter- 
ing the town there may stiU be seen a curious old 
tower, which seems to have forgotten its original 
purpose. Some of the houses have carved stone 
lintels to their doorways and seventeenth-century 
dates, while the stone figure on * The Naked Man * 
Inn, although bearing the date 1668, must be very 
much older, the year of rebuilding being probably 
indicated rather than the date of the figure. 

The nibble divides Settle firom its former parish 
church at Giggleswick, and until 1888 the towns- 
folk had to go over the bridge and along a short 
lane to the village which held its church. Settie 
having been formed into a separate parish, the 
parish clerk of the ancient village no longer has the 
fees for funerals and marriages. Although able to 
share the church, the two places had stocks of their 
own for a great many years. At Settle they have 
been taken from the market square and placed in 
the court-house, and at Giggleswick one of the 
first things we see on entering the village is one of 


the stone posts of the stocks standing by the steps 
of the market cross. This cross has a very well 
preserved head, and it makes the foreground of a 
very pretty picture as we look at the battlemented 
tower of the church through the stone-roofed lich- 
gate grown over with ivy. The history of this fine 
old church, dedicated, like that of Middleham, to 
St Alkelda, has been written by Mr. Thomas 
Brayshaw, who knows every detail of the old 
building jfrom the chalice inscribed * ^ the . com- 

OF . IyGGELSWICKE . MADE . IN . ANO . 1585 .' tO 

the inverted Norman capitals now forming the 
bases of the pillars. The tower and the arcades 
date from about 1400, and the rest of the structure 
is about 100 years older. 

*The Black Horse' Inn has still two niches 
for small figures of saints, that proclaim its 
ecclesiastical connections in early times. It is said 
that in the days when it was one of the duties of 
the churchwardens to see that no one was drinking 
there during the hours of service the inspection 
used to last up to just the end of the sermon, and 
that when the custom was abolished the church 
officials regretted it exceedingly. Giggleswick is 
also the proud possessor of a school foimded in 


1512. It has grown from a very small beginning 
to a considerable establishment, and it possesses 
one of the most remarkable school chapels that can 
be seen anywhere in the comitry. It was built 
between 1897 and 1901, as a memorial of Queen 
Victoria's ^Diamond Jubilee,' by Mr. Walter 
Morrison, who spared no expense in clothing it 
with elaborate decoration, executed by some of the 
most renowned artists of the present day. The 
design of the building is by Mr. T. G. Jackson, R. A. 
The museum is of more than ordinary interest 
on account of the very fine collection of prehistoric 
remains discovered in the Victoria Cave two miles 
to the north-east of Settle. Besides bones of such 
animals as the cave bear, bison, elephant, and grisly 
bear, fragments of pottery were discovered, together 
with bronze and silver coins dating from the Roman 

An ebbing and flowing well, which has excited 
the admiration of all the earlier writers on this 
part of Yorkshire, can be seen at about the distance 
of a mile to the north of Giggleswick. The old 
prints show this as a most spectacular natural 
phenomenon; but whatever it may have been a 
century or more ago, it appears at the present 
day as little more than an ordinary roadside well, 



so common in this neighbouriiood. In very dry 
or very wet weather the well remains inactive, 
but when there is a medimn supply of water the 
level of the water is constantly changing. Giggles- 
wick Tarn is no longer in existence, for it has been 
drained, and the site is occupied by pastures. The 
very fine British canoe, discovered when the drain- 
age operations were in progress, is now preserved 
in the Leeds Museum. 

The road that goes northward from Settle keeps 
close to the Midland Railway, which here forces 
its way right through the Dale Country, under the 
very shoulders of Pen-y-ghent, and within sight 
of the flat top of Ingleborough. The greater part 
of this country is composed of limestone, form- 
ing bare hillsides honeycombed with underground 
waters and pot-holes, which often lead down into 
the most astonishing caverns. In Ingleborough 
itself there is Gaping Gill Hole, a vast fissure 
nearly 850 feet deep. It was only partially ex- 
plored by M. Martel in 1895. Ingleborough Cave 
penetrates into the mountain to a distance of 
nearly 1,000 feet, and is one of the best of 
these limestone caverns for its stalactite forma- 
tions. Guides take visitors fit>m the village of 
Clapham to the inmost recesses and chambers 


that branch out of the small portion discovered 
in 1887. 

The fells contain so many fissures and curious 
waterfalls that drop into abysses of blackness, that 
it would take an infinite time to adequately de- 
scribe even a portion of them. The scenery is wild 
and gaunt, and is much the same as the moors 
at the head of Swaledale, described in an earlier 
chapter. In every direction there are opportunities 
for splendid mountain walks, and if the tracks are 
followed the danger of hidden pot-holes is com- 
paratively small. From the summit of Ingle- 
borough, and, indeed, from most of the fells that 
reach 2,000 feet, there are magnificent views across 
the brown fells, broken up with horizontal lines 
formed by the bare rocky scars. Bowfell, Whem- 
side. Great Shunnor Fell, High Seat, and a dozen 
other heights, dominate the lower and greener 
country, and to the west, where the mountains 
drop down towards Morecambe Bay, one looks 
all over the coimtry watered by the Lune and the 
Kent, the two rivers that flow from the seaward 
side of these lofty watersheds. 


CENT??AL nr?""''V2 


Addlbbrouoh, 88^ 89 

Agincoart, Battle of, 96 

Aire, river, 159, 162 

Airton, 157 

Aislabie, John, 116 

Alan Rnf OS of Brittany, first Earl 
of Richmond, 18, 29, 32, 33 

Alnwick, 35 

Alwine, Parson of Wencelaw, 107 

Anf lo-Saxon population of York- 
shire, 40 

Appleby, 152 

Castle, 153 

Church of St. Lawrence, 

Aram, Eucene, 134 

Arkenffartndale, 60 

ArkleBeck, 63 

Armada, Spanish, 154 

Amcliffe, 146 

Aske, family of, 43 
Roger de, 59 

Askrigg, 65, 86, 89-96, 100, 115 

Aysgiurth, 91, 97, 100, 102, 145 
Force, 98, 99, 102 

Bain. River, 87 

Bainbridge, 84, 86, 87, 88, 89, 94, 

Bangor, Matthew Htitton, Bishop 

Bannockbum, Battle of, 59, 128 
Bardale, 84 

Beck 85 
Barden Bridge, 143, 144, 
Forest, 143, 156 
Tower, 143, 144, 153, 156 
Baogh or Bow Fell, 89 

Bayeux tanestry, 40 
Beaufort, Margaret, 36 
Beckwith, John, 130 
Bedale, 13, 32, 38 

ScoUand Lord of, 32 
Ben Rhydding, 140 
Benedictine nous at Marrick, 59 
Beverley, 22 

Minster, 141 
Bishop Dale, 100, 101 

Beck, 101 
Bolingbroke, 133 
Bolton Abbey, 141, 142, 149, 156 
Canons of, 156 

Castle, 88, 103, 104, 106 
lords of, 42, 96« 

Hall, 104, 105, 106 

Woods, 142 
Boroughbridge, 128 
Bosworth, Battle of, 156 
Bow or Baugh Fell, 89, 171, 
Bradford, water supply of, 144 
Brantwood, Coniston, 141 
Brayshaw, Thomas, 168 
Bretons, 16, 34, 39, 40 
Bridlington, 22 
British canoe, early, 170 
Brittany, Dukes of, 18, 31, 35, 
Brough Castle, 155 

HiU, 84 
Brougham Castle, 153, 155 
Buckden, 144 

Pike, 102 
Buonaparte, Napoleon, 105, 106 
Burgh, Serlo de, 133 
Bumsall, 144 
Buttertubs Pass, 65, 71-76 




Buxton^ 19 
Byron^ Lord, 48 

Calver Hill, 61 
Cam FeU, 84 

Gill Beck, 102 
Cauterburv, Matihew Hntton, 

Archbishop of, 63 
Carlow Stone, Semmerwater, 84 
Carperby, d7 
Castleberg aetUe, 166 
Catherine, Queen, widow of 

Henry V., 36 
Catterick, 32 
Cluurles I., 129 

II., time of, 166 
Ch&teaa Gaillard, 131 
Cliemist'B shop, old, at Knares- 

boroudb, 130 
CTievin, The, 139 
Christianity, early, in Yorkshire, 

Cistercian abbeys, 116, 119 

Nuns at Ellerton, 59 
Civil War, the, of Charles J., 39, 

103, 127, 129, 152, 163, 168 
Clapham, 170 
Clark, Daniel, 134 
Clarkson, C, 23, 24 
Cleveland Hills, 82 
Clifford, family of, 160, 166 
the ninth Lord, 166 
Lady, 166, 166 
the tenth Lord, 143, 166, 

the Lady Anne, 144, 162- 
Clock-making in Wensleydale, 66, 

Cogden Moor, 68 
Commonwealth, time of, 19 
Conan, fifth E^l of Richmond, 

29, 30, 31, 32, 34, 116 
Convers, arms of, 23, 43, 
Corfe Castle, Dorsetshire, 110 
Com, lack of, iu dales, 64, 81 
Cotterdale, 92 
Counteraide, 88 

Coverdale, 111, 144 

Cow and Calf Rocks, Rumbles 

Moor, 140 
Cracoe, 167 
Cragdale, 86 
Craven Fault, the, 161 
district, 149, 166 
men of, 166 
Cromwell, Oliver, 127, 128, 129, 

Cumberland, 37^ 166 

George, third Earl 

of, 162, 164 
Margaret, ('Ountees 
of, 162 
Cumbrian Hills, 4 

Dalesmen, 74, 106 

Dallowgai Moor, 120 

Danish population of Yorkshire, 

De Burgh, Serlo, 133 
De la Mare, Abbot, 106 
Decorated Gothic Period, 23, 29, 

109, 132, 142 
Diamond Jubilee, the, of Queen 

Victoria, 169 
Dissolution of the Monasteries, 

26, 26, 121 
Dodd Fell, 81, 82, 89, 146 
Domesday Book, 32 
Domfront, Normandy, 33 
Dorset, Richard Sackidlle, Earl of, 

162. 163 
Douglas, Sir James, 128 
Domiholme, 66, 67 

Moor, 66 
Dropping well, Knareeborough, 

126, 134 , 

Duerley Beck, 81 
Durham, 14, 38, 63 
Dykes, Oswald, 108 

Early English, period of Gothic, 

117, 141 
Easby Abbey, 40-43, 61, 106, 107 
Ebbing and flowing well at Giggles- 
wick, 169 



Eden, River^ 66 
£dward II., 128 

reign of, 132, 151 
III., reign of, 35, 37 
IV., 109 

Prinoe of Wales, only son 
of Richard III., 110 
Edwin, Earl, 30, 33 
EUer Beck (Skipton), 157 
EUerton, 59 
Elizabeth, Qneen, 53, 154 

reign of, 131, 
Eugene Aram, 134 

FairfiuE, Thomas, Lord, 131 
Falaiae, Normandy, 33 
Fantosme, Jordan, chronicle of, 

FarmhoQse, the, of the North 

Riding, 101 
Famley Hall, 139 
'Felon Sow of Rokeby, The,' 26, 

Fences, stone, 6 
FitK-Hngh, arms of, 23 
Fits-Randolph, Robert, 109 
Fitz-Ranolph, Radnlph, 28 
Masby Fell, 157 
Flodden Field, 156 
Fors Abbey (Jervanlx), 91 
Fountains Abbey, 41, 119, 121, 141 

FeU, 145 
Fox, George, 88 
Franciscans at Richmond, 26, 26, 


Gaping Gill Hole, 170 

Gaunt, John of, 36 

Gayle, 81 

Gent, Thomas, 116 

Gentleman's Magazine, The, 127 

Geology, 45, 76, 77 

(verman Emperor, William II., 

Ill, 144 
German Ocean, 166 
Giggleswick, 167, 168, 169 

School, 168, 169 

Gi^leswick Tarn, 169 
GiU Beck (Swaledale), 47 
GiUing, 33, 34 

East, wapentake of, 33 
West, wapentake of, 33 
(rillinffshire, 33 
Glacid Epochs, 5, 77 
Glanville or Glanvile, Randolph 

de, 35 
Goodricke, Sir John, 127 
Gordale Bridge, 159 

Scar, 159, 160, 161 
Gormire (Thirsk), 85 
Grand&ther-docks, 65, 92 
Grassington, 144, 157 
Gray, Archbishop Walter, 117 
Great Central Railway^ 8 

Northern Railway, 8 
Great Shnnnor Fell, 72, 76, 79, 

Great Whemside, 111, 144 
Greyfriars, Richmond, 25, 26, 28 
Griffin, Gilbert, 28 
Grinton, 60 
Goilds, trade, at Richmond, 37> 


Hardraw Scar (or Force), 5, 77, 

78, 79, 80, 98, 99 
Harkerside Af oor, 58 
Harrogate, 19, 129, 135, 136 
Haw Beck, Skipton, 149 
Hawes, 5, 9, 64, 72, 75, 76, 77, 

80, 89, 92, 93, 145 
Hawes Junction, 63 
Heather on the fells, 5 
Helvellyn, 83 
Henry 11., 34 

III., reign of, 43 

v., Catherine widow of, 36 

VI., play of, 109 

VII., 36, 156 

reign of, 26 

Vlll., reign of, 18, 42 
Hetton, 157 
Hexham, 118 
High Seat, 66, 171 
Hobs and wraithes, 74 



Holy Rood (September 27), casUun 

commencing at^ 88 
Homblower, the^ of Ripon, 116 
Horse Head Moor, 145 
Houses (farms) of the North Ridings 

Hubberholme^ 145 
Hudswellj 55 
Hutchinson, John, 64 
Hntton, Matthew, Archbishop of 

York (1594), 52 
Hutton, Matthew, Archbishop of 

Canterbury (1757), 53 
Hutton, Captain Matthew, 58 

Ice action, 5 

nkley, 140 

Ingleborough, 3, 76, 170, 171 

Cave, 170 
Ingleton Fells, the, 139, 170, 171 
Irish Sea, 166 

Jackson family of Counterside, 88 

T. G., R.A., 169 
Jervaulx Abbey, 100, 115 
John of Gaunt, 36 
Jyggelswicke. See Giggleswick 

Keld, 65, 66 
Kent River, 171 
Kettlewell, 144 
Kirby FeU, 158 

Malham, 158, 165, 166 
Kisdon Force, 65 

Hill, 65 
Kitchen, Richard, 157 
Kitchener, Lord, 65 
Knappey, 96. See Nappa Hall 
Knaresborough, 125-135 

Castle, 130433, 

Manor House, 
126, 130 
Knight Templars, chapel of, 106, 

Knitting in Wensleydale, 91, 92 
KnoUys, Sir Francis (1568), 103, 

Lady's PUlar, 66 

Lake District, 4, 63, 66, 82, 83 

Lambert, Major- General John, 

158, 159 
Lancashire, 36 
Lancastrians, 155 
Langside, Battle of, 103 
Langstrothdale, 82, 83, 102,^45 
'Lass of Richmond Hill, The,' 

ballad of, 36 
Lead mines, 60 
Leeds Museum, 170 
Lehind, John, 18, 22, 24, 26, 33, 

59, 81, 97, 99 
Leybum, 13, 55, 67, 92, 104, 109, 

111, 139 
L^bum Shawl, 104, 110, 111 
lilbume, of Cromwellian army, 

Ling, growth o£^ on the feUs, 

Litton, 146 

Littondale, 5, 144, 145 
Londesborough, 156 
Lune River, 171 
Lytton, Lord, 132 

Malham, 159, 165 

Cove, 161, 162, 165 

Tarn, 159 
Mare, Abbot de la, brass of, 108 
Marrick, 59 

Priory, 59 
Marske, 51, 52, 65 

Beck, 52, 54 

HaU, 52, 53, 54 

obelisk at, 53, 54 
Marston Moor, Battle of, 140 
Martel, M., 170 
Mary Queen of Scots, 97, 103, 

Masham, 38, 115 
Mashamshire Volunteers, 106 
Mercia, 34 
Metcalfe famUy, 91, 96, 97 

James, 96 

Thomas, 96 
Mickleden, 63 



Middleham, 28, 38, 92, 109, 110, 

Middleton, Friar of Richmond, 26, 

Middleton, Sir Andrew de, 140 
Midland Railway, 9, 66, 159, 

Mill Gill Force, 95, 98 
Monasteries, INssolntion of, 25, 

Moone, Richard, Prior of Bolton, 

Morecamhe Bay, 171 
Morris, Joseph £.,64 
Morrison, Walter, 169 
Mowhray, Vale of, 30, 31, 106 
Muker, 61, 63, 64, 65, 71, 72, 92 
Mnrra/s 'Guide to Yorkshire,' 92, 


Napoleon's threatened invasion of 

England, 105 
Nappa Hall, 86, 91, 96, 97 
Navy, British, 154 
Neville, Anne, 110 
arms of, 23 
fiunily of, 109 
Ralph, first Earl of West- 
moreland, 36 
Newhy Hall, Ripon, 97 
Nidd River, 125, 130, 133, 144 
Nidderdale, 144 
Norman Conquest, 14, 32 

period and architecture, 
18, 19, 28, 29, 31, 32, 
33, 42, 50, 57, 87, 91, 
109, 110, 117, 120, 142, 
Northallerton, 128 
North-£astem Railway, 9, 14 
North Sea, 166 
Norton &mily of Rylstone, 157 

Ohelisk at Marske, 53 

Richmond, 23 

Ripon, 116 
Old Cam Road, 84 
Otley, 139 

Parliament, the English, 106 

Pateley Bridge, 144 

Pemhroke and Montgomery, fjady 

Anne, Countess of, 144, 152-155 
Pembroke and Montgomery, 

Philip, Earl of, 153 
Pendragon Castle, 153 
Penhill Beacon, 83, 105, 106 
Pennine Range, 3, 4 
Penrith, 152 
Pen-y-ghent, 3, 145, 170 
Perpendicular Period, 18, 23, 25, 

28, 43, 91, 100, 108, 117, 141, 

Pickering, 43 
PiBgah, Mount, 48 
Plagues at Richmond, 37 
PotJioles, 67, 71, 74, 75 
Pratt, clock-maker at Askrigg, ^ 
Prehistoric remains, 169 
Purbeck, Corfe Castle in Isle of, 


Quakers at Connterside, 88 
Queen's Gap, The, at Leybum 
Shawl, 104 

Railways in the Dale Country, 8 
Rain£m in the dales, 63 
Raisgill, 145 
Ralph of Rokeby, 26 
Randolph, Robert Fits-, 109, 
Ranulph, Radulph Fitz-, 28 
Raydale, 85 
Redmire, 103 
Reeth, 51, 52, 53, 60, 61 
Ribald, brother of a Norman Earl 

of Richmond, 109 
Ribble, River, 167 
Ribblesdale, 9, 167-171 
Richard I., 131 
IL, 133 

reign of, 18, 36 
III., only son of, 110 
arms of, 110 
Richmond, 13-42, 49, 55, 61, 115, 
Barley Cross, the, 24 



Richmond Castle^ 16, 29-37, 39, 
42, 130, 131 
walk, 19 
curfew-bell, 18 
Esrla of, 18, 29, 31, 

gatee and walla, 21, 

Holy Trinity Church, 

King's Head Hotel, 

market-plaoe, 16, 19, 

21, 22, 30 
may-pole, 24 
Mayor andCorporation 

of, 16, 24, 60 
obeliak, 16, 23 
old cross, the, 23, 24 
pillory, 24 
^agues at, 37 
Raral Deanery of, 38 
Trade Guilds of, 37, 38 
:-po8t, 24 

'Richmondshire, History of,' by 
H. Speight, 
men of, 36 
Rievanlx Abbey, 41 
Ripley, Hugh, of Ripon, 118 
Ripon, 41, 97, 116-118, 167 
Lord (1906), 119 
Minster, 117, 118 
Rising of the North, the, 167 
Road-making, 94 
Roald, Constable of Richmond 

Castle, 42 
Robin Hood's Tower, Richmond 

Castle, 31 
Robinson, Richard, of Counter- 
side, 88 
Regan's Seat, 66 
Rokeby, Ralph of, 26 

'The Felon Sow of,' 26 
Roman type of crypt at Ripon, 

Romans at Bainbridge, 84, 87 
at Catterick, 32 

Romans at Richmond, 40 
near Settle, 169 
Romill^, Robert de, 161 
Roseberry Topping, 106 
Rumblea Moor, 140 
Ruakin, John, 141 
Rylstone, 167 

ballad of the White Doe 

of, 167 
FeU, 167 

Sackville, Richard, Earl of Dorset, 

162, 163 
Sandmen, Prior Robert, 26 
Saxon remains, lack of, at Rich- 
mond, 33 
or pre -Norman croeses, 
Scarborough, 39 
Scarth NidE, 106 
Scolland, Lord of Bedale, 32 
Scolland's Hall, Richmond Castile, 

Scots, defeat of, at Alnwick, 36 
raids of the, 36, 37, 69, 
Scott, Sir Walter, ballad of 'The 

Felon Sow of Rokeby,' 26 
Scrope, arms of, 23, 108 

£unily of, 42, 48, 96, 103, 

Richard, Lord of Bolton, 

Sir Henry le, 42 
Sir William le, 42 
ninth Lord, 108 
tombs, 42 
Sedbergh, 62 
Semmerwater, 84-88 
Settle, 9, 166-167, 169 
Shakespeare's play of ' Henry VI.,' 

Shambles at Settle, 166 
Sharp, Roger. 38 
Sheep, Wensleydale, 116 
Sheliey, Percy B., 90 
Shene, Surrey, 36 
Shrovetide, 88 



Simon de Wenselawe^ Sir, 106 
Skell^ River, 119 
Skipton, 9, 14, 143, 144, 146, 
Castle, 150-156 
Skirfiure, River, 146 
Slinger, a woman of Cotterdale, 

Slingsby, £unily of, 129 
Francis, 129 
Mary, 129 
Sir Charles, 129 
Sir Henry, 129 
Snowstorms in the dales, 83 
South Africa, 7 
Spanish Armada, 154 
Speiffht, Harry, 83, 87, 97 
St. Aflatha's Abbey, Easby, 40 
St Alban's Abbey, 108 
St. Alkelda, churches dedicated 

to, 110, 168 
St. Anne, chantry to, at Askrigg^, 

St Martin's Priory at Richmond, 

St Mary's Abbey at York, 28 
St Nicholas, Chapel of, in Rich- 
mond Castle, 31 
St Pancras Station, London, 9 
St Robert's Chapel, Knares- 

borough, 134 
St Wilfrid's Needle, Ripon, 118 
Stag's Fell, 65 
Stake FeU, 83 
Starbeck, 135 
Starbottom, 102 
Storms in the doles, 62, 63, 83 
Stray, the, at Harrogate, 135 
Strid, the, 143 
Studley Royal, 119 / 
Swale, River, 20, 21, 41, 48-67 
Swaledale, 8, 13, 47-64, 83 
Swine Cross, Middleham, 110 

Tees, high force on the, 99 
Teesdale, 64 

Templars, Knight, chapel of, 106 
Thames River, 36 

Thirsk, 106 

Waiiam, last Abbot of 
Fountains Abbey, 121 
Thondby, 100, 101 
Thornton, WUliam (Askrigg), 90 
Tibetot, arms of, 23 
Tmtem Abbey, 41 
Tor Mere Top, 102 
Towton, HaUle of, 155 
Tudor, Edmund, 36 
Turner, J. W. M., 59, 84, 139 

Ure, River and Valley of, 43, 71, 
80, 89, 97-99, 102, 107, 109, 
115, and see Wensl^dale 

Uredale, 81, and see Wensleydale 

Vale of Mowbray, 31, 106 

of York, 6 
Victoria Cave, 169 

Queen, 169 
Volunteers, Wensleydale, eto., 

Wakefield, Batde of, 155 
Wakemen, the, of Ripon, 117, 

Walbum Hall, 57 

Wymerde, 57 
Waldendale, 102 
Walker, George, 91 
Warwick, arms of, 110 

the KingHnaker, 109 
Watershed of EngLuid, 166, 171 
Watling Street, ^ 
Wayne. Christopher, 23 
Wencelaw. See Wensley 
Wenselawe. See Wensley 
Wensley, 106, 107, 110 
Wensleydale, 5, 43, 64, 65, 71-111, 
Forest of, 87 
West Burton, 100 
Westmoreland, 37, 63, 66, 101, 
Ralph NeviUe, 
first Earl of, 36 
Wether Fell, 82-84, 89 



Whaley, Mr., of Aakrigg, 91 
Wharfe, River, 130, 141, 142, 144, 

Wharfedale, 5, 102, 136, 139-146 

Forest of, 143 
Whemside, 171 

Great and Little, 111 
Whitaker, Dr. , Historian of Craven 

and Richmond^ire, 24, 25, 76, 

Wliitdiffe Scar, 47-49, 53 
Whitfield Force, 96 
Widdale FeU, 89 
Wilfrid, 118 

WiUance, Robert, 49, 50 
WiUanoe's Leap, 49, 54 

William the Conqueror, 18, 33, 34, 
133, 151 
the lion of Scotland, 34 
Winterbum, 157 
Wodenslag. See Wensley 
WoodhairPark, 97 
Wordsworth, WUliam, 157, 161 
Wraithea and hobs, 74 
Wyatt, the architect, 117 
Wyman, dapifar to the Earl of 
Richmond, 28 

York, 22, 28 

Archbishopric of, 53 
Minster, 139 
Vale of, 6 



Biuuna AXD Bona, uianD, PRumsBi qvildford 




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