*.. 
 
 m
 
 THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES
 
 .- ;
 
 TOURIST RAMBLES 
 
 IN 
 
 gorftsfjtre, 3Ltncolns|jire, 
 JDurjjam, Nortfjumfoerlantf, & 
 
 BY J. BROWN, 
 
 Author of "Severn*" "A Reverie" and other Poems. 
 
 "I EOAM the wide world over, and survey 
 Its wealth of varied landscape ; waving woods 
 In all their summer verdure smile upon me. 
 I hear the rushing of the waterfall 
 O'er mighty rocks, and watch the silvery spray 
 Bathe moss and lichen, and o'erhanging trees, 
 That clothe the sides of grey and beetling cliffs, 
 Where castled ruins tell of times long past, 
 Change and decay, love, war, and perish'd power." 
 
 LONDON : SIMPKIN, MARSHALL, & CO. 
 YORK: E. H. PICKERING & J. SAMPSON. 
 
 1878,
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 IN publishing in a collected form various hastily- 
 written papers, illustrative of interesting excursions of 
 the York Tourist Society, the author may be permitted 
 to say he has done it in compliance with the desire so 
 frequently expressed by several of its most influential 
 members, in order to preserve a record of what would be 
 otherwise ephemeral and forgotten. If the perusal of 
 them should add to the pleasure, or vividly bring back 
 to the memory the incidents or the scenes described, or 
 be the means of inducing others who are not members 
 of the Y. T. S. to embark in the same pilgrimages, and 
 tread in the steps of those who have founded and sus- 
 tained so unique and admirable an institution, he will 
 be amply repaid by the reflection that he has contributed 
 in some degree, not only to their intellectual gratification, 
 but to their physical enjoyment ; and that in the future, 
 memory will oft recall the beautiful scenery and the 
 
 871219
 
 VI 
 
 romantic legends that surround and embellish the mag- 
 nificent and historical remains of a great and glorious 
 past. 
 
 The York Tourist Society originated from a few 
 friends joining together in excursions to Castle Eden 
 Dene or Dell, in Durham, and the princely Chatsworth, 
 in Derbyshire. These visits took place in the year 
 1865, when Edwin Wade, Esq., J.P., was Lord Mayor 
 of the City of York, and accompanied the party. In the 
 following year another excursion took place to Boston 
 Spa and Bramham Park, which in its results was so 
 gratifying, that it was determined to form a society, 
 in order that future excursions might be more easily 
 organized ; Mr. Wade, the ex-Lord Mayor, being elected 
 President (an office he still worthily fills), and Mr. Henry 
 Brearey, Hon. Secretary. In course of time, the 
 Society gradually increased in numbers, and Mr. R. W. 
 Anderson, who has taken the place of Mr. Brearey as 
 Hon. Sec., has successfully carried out the greater part 
 of its excursions. It was not until the Spring of 1873 
 that any Tourist Papers were written, since then, 
 however, the author, Dr. Procter, Mr. G. C. Baskett, 
 Mr. J. L. Foster, and others, have occasionally illus-
 
 Vll 
 
 trated the movements of the Society. Should the present 
 venture prove successful, those gentlemen may perhaps 
 be induced to allow their contributions to be edited and 
 published in a succeeding volume. 
 
 The author has preceded the Tourist Papers by an 
 introductory one on " Tours in Yorkshire," which was 
 delivered at the York Institute in November, 1876, 
 preliminary to readings on " Jervaulx and Middleham," 
 and " The Strid and Bolton Priory." He has done so 
 as it relates to tours in general, and points out the 
 principal objects that time has spared, which add beauty 
 and interest to the localities visited. He has also 
 appended two articles of a kindred character, and another 
 that perhaps has no business in the volume ; the author's 
 apology for it's appearance must, therefore, be its 
 relation to a question which has stirred, and is still 
 exciting the attention of, the whole British Empire. 
 
 YOBK, June, 1878.
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 1. Introductory Tours in Yorkshire 1 
 
 2. Wensleydale. Leyburn, Jervaulx Abbey, and 
 
 Middleham Castle 17 
 
 3. A Day at Coningsboro' Castle and Roche Abbey 35 
 
 4. Introductory. Wharf edale. The Strid, Barden 
 
 Tower, and Bolton Priory 57 
 
 5. Durham and Northumberland. Marsden Rock 
 
 and Tynemouth Castle and Priory 78 
 
 6. An Afternoon at Scoreby Woods 96 
 
 7. Pickering Castle, Elleron Lodge, and Cawthorne 
 
 Camp 107 
 
 8. Lincolnshire. Lincoln Minster, Boston, and Bos- 
 
 ton Church 121 
 
 9. Saltburn-by-the-Sea 142 
 
 10. Teesdale. High Force and Barnard Castle ... 152 
 
 11. Durham. Brancepeth Castle and Durham 
 
 Cathedral 171 
 
 12. Derbyshire. Peveril of the Peak, Buxton and 
 
 Haddon Hall 196 
 
 13. Crayke Castle, Newburgh Priory, and Byland 
 
 Abbey 218 
 
 MISCELLANEOUS. 
 
 14. The Burton Picture Gallery 228 
 
 15. The York Roman City Wall and St. Wilfrid's 
 
 Church 237 
 
 16. The Eastern Question . 248
 
 TOURIST RAMBLES. 
 
 TOURS IN YORKSHIRE. 
 
 (An Address delivered at the York Institute, on 
 November zist, 1876).* 
 
 \N fixing upon the title of the Reading as 
 a description of "Tours in Yorkshire," 
 it was suggested by your Secretary, Mr. Seller, 
 in consideration of having contributed papers on 
 some of the excursions of the York Tourist 
 Society, which he and other friends were good 
 enough to say were of an interesting character. 
 In reading two of them to-night we may be 
 permitted to remark they are merely slight 
 sketches hurriedly penned at the time, and do 
 not at all profess to be of an -exhaustive 
 character. 
 
 * A few preliminary personal remarks at the commencement 
 of the address are omitted.
 
 Yorkshire, which is the largest county in 
 England, possesses within its borders almost 
 every variety of scenery, some of the gentlest 
 loveliness, and other of a grand and imposing 
 character. From the Tees to the Humber 
 stretches a vast but gently undulating plain, 
 without a hill 100 feet in height to break the 
 continuity of its course ; but it has a noble 
 setting in the north and east in the Cleve- 
 land, Hambleton, and Wold Ranges, and in 
 the west by that immense ridge extending 
 from Westmoreland to Derbyshire, which is 
 the watershed and source of the principal 
 rivers in Yorkshire. 
 
 As the county of York excels in its scenery, 
 so also does it beyond compare contain more 
 of the relics and monuments of a bygone age 
 than any other that can be named. In the 
 capital city itself, there are many treasures of 
 industry and art, records of a time when 
 Imperial Rome extended her conquering and 
 civilizing influences over the remotest parts 
 of the ancient world, and consequent on which 
 Eboracum, the home and birthplace of some 
 of the greatest of her Emperors, became the 
 chief city of sea girt Albion. Its grand 
 memorials of Norman, Plantagenet, and Tudor
 
 times, are also of historic interest and renown, 
 bringing pilgrims from distant countries and 
 from far off climes to admire and reverence 
 its one unequalled shrine ; and amongst them 
 may be found the intelligent New Yorker, who 
 surveys for the first time with indescribable 
 emotion the glories of a city, which has given 
 a name to the chief commercial metropolis 
 of the new world. 
 
 In the unsettled times of the conquest, 
 when it was necessary for the Normans to 
 completely subdue the spirit of the English 
 and consolidate their power, the victorious 
 king granted the lands of the Saxon Thanes to 
 an alien nobility, as a reward for their enter- 
 prise and valour, and on every point of vantage, 
 a fortified Norman castle was erected, garrison- 
 ed by men-at-arms, who overawed and kept in 
 subjection the surrounding country. As time 
 wore on, and the different races gradually 
 became one people, and life and property were 
 more secure, a spirit of religious emulation 
 exhibited itself amongst the Barons, resulting 
 in the erection of those grand monasteries, 
 whose picturesque ruins add a charm and 
 melancholy grace to the romantic scenery by 
 which they are surrounded.
 
 As in its castles, so in its abbeys, York- 
 shire is rich in those glorious remains, 
 which frequently put to shame the vaunted 
 pretentious architecture of the present age. 
 In the greatness of their extent, and in the 
 grandeur and magnificence of their proportions 
 and design, we see something accomplished 
 in what many consider a rude and barbarous 
 age, which all the skill and all the appliances. 
 of modern times have certainly rarely equalled 
 and never surpassed. 
 
 In surveying the ruined castles of the ancient 
 nobility, and the graceful proportions of the 
 abbeys and priories of the Benedictine and 
 Cistercian Monks of old, there must arise in the 
 reflective mind a feeling of admiration, some- 
 what tinged with regret at the fading glories of 
 the past, in those stern memorials of the 
 instability of human greatness and power, and 
 evidences of the changes time has wrought in 
 the condition of our native land since those 
 structures first reared their heads, emblematic 
 of war and peace ; and without indulging in 
 anything like trivial sentimentality, we must 
 do justice to the zeal and piety, the goodness 
 and humanity of our lay and ecclesiastical 
 predecessors in those ages of strife and
 
 insecurity, and acknowledge our indebtedness 
 to self-denying men who sacrificed life itself 
 in a considerate discharge of duty, and in the 
 spreading of that faith to which they had sworn 
 the most implicit and unswerving allegiance. 
 The following quotation from one of our poets 
 illustrates those ideas in a most graphic 
 manner 
 
 " I am the servant of the church and poor, 
 And none may claim my fealty, or seduce 
 My love and reverence, and my plighted faith 
 From her who changeth not, but still remains 
 Immutable, until the end of time." 
 
 The changes that had gradually taken 
 place in the country from the times of the 
 Plantagenets to the disastrous contentions 
 and wars of the Houses of Lancaster and 
 York, were slowly but surely bringing in their 
 train greater freedom of thought and opinion, 
 and considerable power to the burghers of the 
 towns which were increasing in population and 
 influence year by year. With the advent of 
 the Tudor kings, those ideas became still 
 more powerful, and the development of that 
 free and sturdy spirit for which England is 
 now famous, had gone on gathering strength,
 
 until it permeated all classes of society, and 
 influenced the throne itself in bringing about 
 those momentous changes whose influences 
 are yet at work in the religious and political 
 world for the regeneration of mankind. This 
 is not the time, neither is it the place for 
 the lecturer to discuss the motives of king 
 Henry VIII. in reforming the ancient faith, 
 and taking upon himself that supremacy as 
 head of the National Church which had been 
 exercised for centuries by the Popes of Rome; 
 neither shall we criticise his policy in suppress- 
 ing the abbeys and other religious houses, and 
 dividing their possessions amongst the nobility 
 and gentry, which many of their successors 
 hold at the present day ; but it must be 
 quite evident in case of the latter, the pur- 
 poses for which they were originally instituted 
 had long ceased to be of advantage to the 
 nation ; and the action of the State and 
 of the King with regard to the former, must 
 have been in unison with public sentiment 
 and feeling, some parts of the northern 
 counties alone showing opposition, leading to 
 the rising called the " Pilgrimage of Grace," 
 which was soon put down, the principal 
 authors and leaders meeting the fate custom-
 
 ary in those times for unsuccessful treason and 
 rebellion. 
 
 In illustration of that other part of the subject 
 which forms one of the principal features of 
 attraction to the Tourist, viz., the ruined castles 
 of the nobility and those which were held by 
 the King in right of his Duchy of Lancaster, 
 we may perhaps briefly be allowed to say a few 
 words on the troubled times of the Stuarts, as 
 it was consequent upon the policy of the un- 
 fortunate king Charles the I. that we find 
 them in their present condition. In carrying 
 out the ideas we have expressed concerning the 
 religious revolution of a preceding reign, it 
 appears to us, and no doubt it is historically 
 true, that the policy and prerogatives of the 
 Crown were not in harmony with the feelings 
 and spirit of the age which produced such men 
 as Hampden, Milton, Fairfax and Cromwell ; 
 and although we may be royalist by sentiment, 
 yet on full and fair reflection we must candidly 
 confess that the sad, nay, shall we say the cruel 
 death of the Martyr King, who doubtless acted 
 according to his belief of his own irresponsible 
 power, and in the "royal right divine to govern 
 wrong," was perhaps necessary to dispel such 
 illusions, and teach future kings that the
 
 happiness, prosperity and freedom of their 
 subjects should be their constant aim, as there- 
 on depends the stability of power, of govern- 
 ments, and thrones. 
 
 The events that had taken place in this 
 remarkable era, and preceding reigns, had been 
 the means of breaking up the feudal system, 
 and serf and villein became terms applicable 
 to the long receding past, though some of the 
 tenures in relation to the holding of land are 
 existent at the present time. The castles, like 
 the abbeys, were ordered to be demolished, and 
 were no longer a menace nor a terror to the 
 peaceful husbandman or the dwellers in the 
 towns ; the occupation of the warder, and 
 seneschal, and armed retainers was gone ; the 
 portcullis, which had closed behind many a 
 prisoner, who left light and hope behind for the 
 torture and the dungeon and a living death, 
 was abolished for ever ; and the state took 
 upon itself the organization of that free and 
 volunteer national force, which has secured 
 liberty at home, and has carried the flag, 
 the valour and renown of England to remotest 
 climes, whenever duty called, or the honour 
 and interest of this great and mighty empire 
 has been involved.
 
 The reasons why we have thus alluded at 
 some length to the origin of the castles .and 
 abbeys of England, and the causes which led 
 to their ruin and dismantlement must be self- 
 evident to those who have carefully studied the 
 history of their country, and who have travelled 
 far and wide in quest of the beautiful and the 
 romantic, for where do we find them more 
 combined than when we visit those grand, 
 majestic and ivy-clad remains, which some 
 tourists say are more beautiful in their ruin 
 than when in their prime, which are full of 
 lessons to the thoughtful mind, bringing back 
 to the recollection with a vivid distinctness the 
 manners and customs and historic memoirs of 
 a bygone age, and which also with philosophic 
 exactness, frequently, teach a moral or adorn a 
 tale. 
 
 In combination with these two distinctive 
 features, there are other necessary appendages 
 which are generally to be found in close ap- 
 proximation, and which in all their various 
 forms, the tourist and the lover of nature 
 marvellously enjoys ; rock, wood and water 
 being their constant companions. The beetling 
 cliff, the boundless woods, the lake and the 
 waterfall, in all the brilliant colouring which
 
 IO 
 
 imagination can give, are frequently recalled 
 when memory wanders back to happy youthful 
 days, before the heart knew care, or friendships 
 waxed cold, or love vanished away ; so the 
 keep and the turret overlooking the plain, and 
 the ruined monasteries peacefully enshrined in 
 some sequestered nook, with sparkling streams 
 at their feet, the joy of the painter and the 
 glory of the poet, firing his imagination as he 
 illustrates in immortal verse their legendary 
 tales and their treasures of romance ; these all 
 revive again with a freshness and distinctness 
 unknown to other themes, and are the purest 
 and the brightest memory can portray upon 
 her vast and varied page. 
 
 As the first paper we shall have the honour 
 to read to you recounts an excursion to Leyburn 
 and Jervaulx Abbey in lovely Wensleydale, it 
 is necessary a short account should be given of 
 one of the most beautiful valleys in Yorkshire, 
 where the scenery is ever varied, and whose 
 historical monuments are closely associated 
 with many events of surpassing importance in 
 the history of England. 
 
 The river Ure or Yore, which rises in the 
 mountainous country above Hawes, near the 
 borders of Westmoreland, passes in its course
 
 II 
 
 many noted places, until it joins the Swale 
 near Aldboro', the Isurium of the Romans. In 
 its upper reaches it is remarkable for the wild- 
 ness of its scenery and for the fine waterfalls 
 with which both itself and its tributaries abound. 
 Hardraw Force is a cascade of a very striking 
 description. The stream of water having a 
 clear fall of 99 feet into a natural amphitheatre, 
 the walls of which are 100 feet high and per- 
 fectly perpendicular. When the stream is 
 swollen by rains, the basin into which it falls 
 is filled with spray, and this the sunshine often 
 tinges with the hues of the rainbow. The 
 other great waterfall, perhaps better known 
 than Hajdraw, is Aysgarth Force, near the 
 village of the same name, where the stream 
 rushes over an irregular bed of limestone, and is 
 rapid and impetuous in its course. The effect 
 of the fall varies at times from the difference in 
 the volume of the stream. " In floods," remarks 
 the late Professor Philips, "it is a great, 
 a mighty river, bursting with prodigious effect 
 through magnificent rocks ; but in droughts, 
 only a few gentle rills the tears of the Naiads 
 run over the ledges of the limestone." This 
 waterfall, with its accessories of finely wooded 
 banks, is the most beautiful in Yorkshire.
 
 12 
 
 The great features of Wensleydale, however, 
 are the Castles of Middleham and Bolton, and 
 the fine Abbey of Jervaulx, whose abbot figures 
 so prominently in Sir Walter Scott's romance 
 of " Ivanhoe." As the latter, will be more 
 particularly mentioned in the paper shortly to 
 be read, we shall confine our remarks to the 
 grand towers of Middleham, and the gloomy 
 prison of Mary Queen of Scots. Middleham 
 Castle was erected at two distinct periods, the 
 more ancient being the Norman keep built by 
 the Fitz Randolphs, but completely surrounded 
 by the more extensive and magnificent structure 
 of the Nevilles. The gatehouse remains in 
 almost its original condition, and the uses of 
 the other apartments in the immense building 
 can be distinctly traced. The Castle of Sheriff 
 Hutton near York belonged also to this noble 
 family which for generations distinguished itself, 
 and made for itself a name that will ever exist 
 in the annals of this country. 
 
 The principal associations of the Castle of 
 Middleham consists of its having been the 
 favourite residence of the great Earl of Warwick 
 the renowned king maker, whose extraordinary 
 life and fortunes are portrayed with a masterly 
 hand by the late Lord Lytton in the " Last of
 
 13 
 
 the Barons," and where some of the finest 
 scenes occur in the Castle of Middleham. 
 After Warwick's death at the battle of Barnet, 
 it came into the possession of the Duke of 
 Gloucester, afterwards king Richard the IIL 
 who had married the Earl's youngest daughter, 
 and it was here in 1473 his only son was born. 
 From the immensity of the buildings as they at 
 present exist, some idea may be formed of the 
 power and the wealth of the Nevilles, and with 
 what grandeur and magnificence they lorded it 
 over the provinces of the North. 
 
 The Castle of Bolton lies higher up the 
 valley, a few miles from Leyburn and Wensley, 
 near Bolton Hall, the seat of the Powlett 
 family. It is situate on a height overlooking 
 the fair valley of Wensleydale, contrasting sadly 
 with its surroundings, and is a formidable but 
 gloomy looking pile, though Leland said that 
 in his time it was the fairest in Richmondshire. 
 This castle, which was built in the reign of 
 king Richard the II. by Lord Scrope, the 
 Chancellor of England, is principally renowned 
 for its having been for nearly two years the 
 prison of the unhappy Mary Queen of Scots, 
 after flying from her rebellious subjects in 
 Scotland. The Queen's room is still shown,
 
 14 
 
 and the window from which she is supposed to 
 have escaped is pointed out, and the place 
 where she was captured in an opening in the 
 wood at Leyburn Shawl, is called the Queen's 
 Gap at the present day. There is something 
 exceedingly touching and sorrowful in the life 
 of this beautiful and unfortunate princess, and 
 history records no sadder fate than her long 
 and cruel imprisonment by her cousin Elizabeth, 
 consummated by her tragic and heroic death 
 within the Castle of Fotheringay. 
 
 The character of Mary has been traced in 
 every variety of shade and colour. On the one 
 hand she has been extolled as the paragon of 
 religion and virtue, and on the other every vice 
 and every crime of degraded humanity has been 
 allotted to her name, which cannot be believed 
 of one who was the most beautiful and accom- 
 plished lady in Europe, of whom it was 
 written that " no man ever saw her without 
 love, or will read her history without pity," and 
 whose fate and whose wrongs have been em- 
 bodied in language so touching and pathetic, 
 that whatever her faults, we wish to forget 
 them, and want to believe in the words of the 
 Poet, that she was purity and love, and more 
 sinned against than sinning.
 
 15 
 
 " Oh, lovelier than the fairest flower 
 
 That ever hloomed on green, 
 Was she, the lily of the land 
 
 That young and spotless Queen ; 
 The sweet, sweet smile upon her lips, 
 
 Her eyes so kind and clear, 
 The magic of her gentle voice 
 
 That even now I hear. 
 And Nobles knelt and Princes bent 
 
 Before her as she came, 
 A Queen by gift of nature, she, 
 
 More than a Queen in name." 
 
 In these introductory remarks, we have en- 
 deavoured to show what are the leading features 
 either of scenery or of association that attract 
 us into remote districts, and the account of the 
 origin of our castles and of our monasteries 
 and the changed condition of the people have 
 all a bearing on the subject before us, and tend 
 to illustrate and explain the true condition 
 in which we now find them. If they were 
 non-existent, one of the principal pleasures 
 of the tourist would be gone, and a charm 
 would be banished that has delighted the 
 ignorant and intelligent alike through many 
 preceding years, and we can only hope that 
 our national monuments and memorials of an
 
 i6 
 
 earlier civilization may long be religiously 
 preserved for the gratification and pleasure of 
 remote posterity. 
 
 The tourist paper now about to be read does 
 not take in the whole features of Wensleydale, 
 but simply that portion of it which is implied 
 by the title.
 
 No. 2. 
 
 . Eegbttrn, Serbaulx Sbbeg, anfc 
 am Castle. 
 
 the merry month of May, when nature 
 again assumes its most lovely and en- 
 chanting aspect, and after the rude storms of 
 winter each bud and spray shoots forth its 
 leafy blossoms, and the noble woods that dot 
 the landscape of this charming part of north 
 Yorkshire array themselves in verdant green of 
 a most wonderful variety of shade and colour, 
 how refreshing is it after the daily and monoto- 
 nous toil of the crowded and busy city to have 
 a day's enjoyment in the purer air, and by the 
 limpid stream that so gently meanders from 
 the heights of Aysgarth, through the happy 
 valley of Wensleydale, past rock and castle 
 and ruined abbey, the stately hall and lordly 
 mansion, and the ancient memorials of the 
 Roman, Danish, and Norman times, until 
 beyond the towers of Ripon it mingles with
 
 i8 
 
 the Ouse, and passing by the embattled turrets 
 of Old Ebor, ultimately becomes that noble 
 river bearing on its bosom the wealth of 
 nations to the ports of Goole and Hull. 
 
 In the spring it has been our custom to visit 
 some part of Yorkshire unvisited before, to see 
 that marvellous variety of scenery, unsurpassed 
 in any other county in England, and those 
 objects of interest associated with the history 
 of our country, whose remains are so interest- 
 ing to the archaeologist, the historian, and the 
 ordinary tourist simply on pleasure bent. 
 Need we instance the palatial mansion and 
 grand picture galleries of Castle Howard, the 
 Castle of Helmsley, and the neighbouring town 
 of Kirby Moorside where the favourite of 
 Charles the Second, the ill-starred Bucking- 
 ham, " in the worst inn's worst room," passed 
 miserably from earth away ; the fine old park, 
 and the glorious ruin and terrace of Rivaulx, 
 the Abbey of Byland, and the historical monu- 
 ments in Coxwold Church, telling of the times 
 of the Martyr King and the days of the Lord 
 Protector's Commonwealth; and where in later 
 times lived Lawrence Sterne, Canon of York, 
 the inimitable creator of Tristram Shandy, 
 Uncle Toby, and Corporal Trim. Then there
 
 19 
 
 is Studley Royal, and Fountains Abbey, one 
 of the masterpieces of the architectural skill 
 of the monks of old, nestled in a perfect para- 
 dise of woods and waters; Hackfall, and 
 the wonderful rocks of Brimham, reminding 
 one of the shores of an antediluvian sea; 
 the Priory of Bolton ; and last, but not least, 
 the sylvan and romantic scenery where the 
 Greta weds the Tees on the confines of York- 
 shire at Rokeby. 
 
 There are many other places of remarkable 
 beauty and interest, more especially in the 
 north and west of Yorkshire, that will well 
 repay a visit, and where it would be wise if 
 tourists would resort who at considerable 
 trouble and great expense visit foreign and 
 distant countries, where the scenery is no more 
 remarkable, and scarcely so interesting, as may 
 be found at a few hours' journey from home ; 
 and it is only by the publicity of the press that 
 the rural beauties and delights of Old England 
 can be known, and ultimately enjoyed by those 
 who take a pleasure in the works of man and 
 his Maker. 
 
 Leaving York by railway on a morning in 
 May, after a night of wind and rain, with the 
 sun peeping out now and then as an indication
 
 20 
 
 of a fine day, we rapidly passed through the 
 fruitful Vale of York to Pilmoor and Thirsk, 
 where stretching away northward were the 
 Hambleton Hills, and that lovely Mowbray 
 Vale, where Gilling Castle, the ancient home 
 of the Fairfaxes, nestles itself in its native 
 woods, whilst still further north and trending 
 towards the coast came in view the Cleveland 
 Hills, and the more prominent Roseberry 
 Topping singling itself out as a landmark, 
 where you can view 
 
 " O'er moor and fen and plain and lea, 
 The countless masts that stud the sea.'" 1 ' 
 
 At length Northallerton is reached, where 
 some stay is made prior to the train starting 
 for Leyburn, so an exploration of this remark- 
 ably uninteresting town is made, and fighting 
 shy of the notable House of Correction, so 
 interesting to vagrants, criminals, and police 
 constables, we wend our way through the new 
 part of the town to the High-street, where the 
 road is rough and flagged pavements the ex- 
 ception, past the noted Golden Lion, thence to 
 
 * Original MS.
 
 21 
 
 a new market- hall of diminutive size pitched in 
 the centre of the street, to be an obstruction 
 for ever, no great evidence of the good taste of 
 the commissioners and ratepayers of the town. 
 Passing thence to the Parish Church, expect- 
 ing here to see something of the grandeur of 
 the past, we found a noble Norman church 
 mutilated beyond conception by the inglorious 
 taste of a semi-barbarous age, the old chancel 
 entirely gone and in lieu thereof an ugly ex- 
 crescence in the conventicle style, and what 
 must have been a fine west front converted 
 and defaced into a most indescribable piece of 
 barbarity by the Goths of a later era. 
 
 Returning to Northallerton station we soon 
 take our departure upon the branch railway 
 which has its terminus at Leyburn, nearly 
 twenty miles away, and passing through 
 .a well-wooded and fertile country, cross 
 the ancient Roman Road of Leeming Lane, 
 and make a short halt at Bedale close by, 
 and catch a glimpse of the fine old church 
 upon the hill, with its painted windows and 
 embattled tower and weather-worn features, 
 telling of the long, long ago since its first bell 
 rung out through wood and forest to the disr 
 tant hamlet, the Christian call to prayer. The
 
 22 
 
 line here gradually ascends the gentle slopes,, 
 and on each side are seen the verdant pastures 
 and breezy downs, where the lowing herds 
 and the Masham sheep are busily employed in 
 culling the fragrant herbage for which these 
 dales are famous. Then a little further as we 
 advance upon the ridge, the lovely scenery of 
 Wensleydale bursts upon the view, and we 
 look down over Spennithorne to Middleham 
 and the wide-spreading vale, with the mur- 
 muring Yore stretching away towards Bolton 
 Woods, like a " streak of silver sea," and the 
 noble range where Witton Fell stands out, and 
 the mountainous Penhill, from whose lofty 
 summit the plains of Lancashire can be dis- 
 cerned, and the distant outline of the Teesdale 
 Hills. 
 
 Arrived at Leyburn, perched upon the hills, 
 we make our way from the station past the 
 new church and through the market-place, 
 where, being market day, was an assemblage 
 of primitive stalls with all manner of miscel- 
 laneous goods exposed for sale. The famed 
 cheeses of Wensleydale, said by some good 
 judges to be equal to Stilton, the travelling 
 packman with his broadcloth, the sellers of 
 tins, boots, and baskets, and the burly butcher
 
 23 
 
 with his movable four-wheeled stall, busy 
 with his stentorian voice commending his- 
 tender and juicy wares to the gastronomic 
 attention of admiring lookers-on. Reaching 
 at length the hospitable Bolton Arms, looking 
 fresh and bright with paint, and a new sign, 
 picked out in gold and colour, emblazoning the 
 armorial bearings of the noble house of Powlett, 
 we were ushered upstairs into a capital dining 
 room, where from a fine bay window could be 
 observed that glorious expanse of scenery before 
 described, and after doing justice to the good 
 things placed before us, at once without delay 
 set off for the abbey of Jervaulx, intending to 
 return by Middleham to Ley burn so as to dine 
 there late in the afternoon. 
 
 Starting off gaily and joyously along the 
 highway down the country roads to Spenni- 
 thorne, past solitary farm-houses or hamlets 
 of a few cottages, with their neat gardens 
 trimmed out with the loveliest flowerets of 
 spring, and the apricot and apple trees in full 
 bloom, promising a fruitful year ; the black- 
 bird and the thrush and the multitudinous 
 songsters of the grove chirping and careering 
 on eager wing from spray to spray, and the 
 young rooks cawing about in search of unwary
 
 24 
 
 crawlers where the earth was newly broken, 
 and the playful lambs just now performing 
 their curious antics, scared at our approach, 
 and running off bleating for protection the 
 freshness and purity of the air all combined 
 to raise the spirits and make us feel again the 
 priceless days and joys of youth. 
 
 " Where hope's entrancing voice hath ever spoken 
 
 In silvery tones of joyous days to come, 
 And in gay colours clothed each fairy token, 
 That told of love, of happiness, and home." * 
 
 Passing by the plain, unpretentious mansion 
 of Colonel Straubenzee, we soon come to the 
 old English gentlemanly residence of the 
 Chaytors of Spennithorne, looking out from 
 its umbrageous retreat at the noontide sun 
 beyond the happy valley; whilst further on 
 appeared a combination of a curious looking 
 church and parsonage house combined, re- 
 minding the traveller of something he has seen 
 in the Landes of France or of the Spanish 
 Pyrenees. Coming to the Cover Bridge, 
 where a flock of sheep were undergoing the 
 
 * "The Early Dead."
 
 25 
 
 primitive operation of a wash in the Cover 
 prior to having their fleeces shorn, a sudden 
 " change came o'er the scene," a dark cloud 
 rising over the moors beyond Richmond and 
 the far-off Tees came rapidly along, the birds 
 that were so gaily singing and rejoicing in the 
 golden sunlight were suddenly silenced and 
 betook themselves to the friendly hedgerows 
 or closer thickets, and the roll of distant 
 thunder and a few large drops of rain heralded 
 the coming storm. The wind came with a 
 mighty rush, and the pelting rain, released 
 from the driving clouds, discharged its burthen 
 on the thirsty soil below ; whilst sundry um- 
 brellas came to grief, and exhibited a wreck of 
 streaming silk and excentric bars of steel and 
 whalebone most amusing to behold, fit emblems 
 of the waifs and strays of humanity the killed 
 and wounded in the battle of life. However, 
 nothing daunted by this mishap, we continued 
 our journey to the pleasant village of East 
 Witton, and took refuge in the ancient hostelry 
 of the Blue Lion, where in its capacious public 
 room we solaced ourselves until the storm 
 passed away. 
 
 The sun again rode high and bright, the 
 dark cloud surcharged with rain passed rapidly
 
 26 
 
 southward by the vales of Mowbray and York, 
 and we took our departure, rejoicing the storm 
 had been sharp and short ; the birds came out 
 of their hiding places and the air once more 
 resounded with the voice of melody, and the 
 trees so full of foliage shook the raindrops off, 
 sparkling like diamonds as they fell. Leaving 
 the village of Witton so neat and trim, and 
 the newly-built church on an eminence over- 
 looking the valley below, we pass along the 
 high road leading to Jervaulx, whence on the 
 left bank of the Yore, in a well-timbered and 
 extensive park, appeared the stately mansion 
 of the Scropes of Danby Yore, a name famous 
 in the times of the Plantagenet and Tudor 
 kings, and associated with many eventful in- 
 cidents in the history of England. Ere long 
 we arrived at the end of our journey through a 
 succession of varied and undulating scenery, 
 and making our way to the gardener's lodge,, 
 after signing our names in a register kept for 
 the purpose, were furnished with a key as 
 a necessary open sesame to the ruins of the 
 abbey, which we shortly after attain by the 
 carriage drive past the hall and delightful 
 gardens of the Marquis of Ailesbury, the noble 
 owner of this charming spot.
 
 27 
 
 This beautiful ruin of a bygone age stands 
 on a fine level piece of ground protected by a 
 sunk fence, and sheltered on the north by a 
 well-wooded ridge, whilst the Yore runs past 
 through the valley in a south-easterly direction. 
 To the south is an extensive park dotted over 
 with grand expansive trees, some of them 
 boasting of an age equal to that of the abbey 
 itself, the wide-spreading oak, the substantial 
 elm, and the graceful beech, whilst the milk- 
 white thorn perfumes the air, and the chesnuts 
 in full bloom with their thousand sentinels, 
 erect and watchful, guard the sacred precincts; 
 and the gardens display their sweet parterres 
 of blooming flowers all fresh and lovely the 
 modest lilac, the graceful golden pendant 
 laburnum, with clusters of evergreens and 
 winding walks and grots and dells, all combine 
 to fascinate and please, and make one feel 
 contented here to stay. 
 
 " Here might we cull earth's fairest, sweetest flowers, 
 Or woo with songs of love the beauteous maid."* 
 
 The weird ruin was clothed in ivy-green, 
 whilst here and there from out the crevices 
 
 * Sonnet, "Studley Park."
 
 28 
 
 that time and storm had made, peeped forth 
 the scented wallflower, and in many a deep 
 recess, filled in with moss, the jackdaw and 
 the starling built their nests, and continued for 
 generations the undisturbed possessors of this 
 their -hereditary domain. 
 
 Tradition has it that Jervaulx was founded 
 higher up the valley, at Fers, near Askrigg, in 
 the year 1150, but that afterwards the monks 
 left it and removed to this more pleasant and 
 sheltered retreat ; and here was built a noble 
 abbey, abbot's house, and all necessary con- 
 ventual buildings, some of which have dis- 
 appeared, but the majority of them and their 
 uses can be traced at the present day. The 
 church has been a fine structure, and contains 
 several carved slabs with legible inscriptions 
 thereon of its former abbots ; but no arches or 
 pillars remain, but simply the foundation walls 
 and the high altar, which has apparently been 
 restored. 
 
 " 'twas a saddening sight at which I sighed, 
 To view the overthrow of human pride, 
 Sculpture and marble scattered in the dust."* 
 
 * Original MS.
 
 29 
 
 The chapter house adjoins the south-east end 
 of the church, and its roof has been supported 
 by light and elegant columns. Here also has 
 been the burial place of some of the abbots, as 
 some inscribed slabs are there "with moss and 
 grass o'ergrown." A little further to the south 
 is the banqueting hall of noble proportions, and 
 close by are the kitchens with two immense 
 chimneys looking as fresh as when the last 
 joints were cooked for the dispossessed monks 
 in the days of Henry VIII. ; and the arched 
 places in the walls remain as a record of the 
 manner in which the dishes were passed hot 
 and steaming from the kitchen to the abbot's 
 table. 
 
 The ruins are extensive but of low elevation, 
 as unfortunately the ravages of man have made 
 more desolation than the hand of time ; and 
 though they do not bespeak the grandeur of 
 Fountains or the beauty of Rivaulx, yet they 
 have a charm of their own that appeals to the 
 better and immortal nature of man, speaking 
 of the labours undergone in the years that are 
 past, when faith and works had more apparent 
 influence upon the life than now, of charities 
 and good deeds that are registered on high, 
 and of the lamp of life shining out in the lonely
 
 30 
 
 and sequestered valley, pointing to the weary 
 wanderer his haven of rest. 
 
 " Time-honoured pile, thy heauty more endears 
 Thee to my heart, than palaces of power, 
 Or glittering dome, or castellated tower, 
 Which kingly pride and mad ambition rears. "* 
 
 The utter wreck of this once noble building 
 is almost significant of the calamity that befel 
 its last abbot, Adam Sedbergh. Driven an 
 outcast from the shelter of its friendly walls, 
 his heart bowed and perhaps soured at the 
 injustice heaped upon him, he joined in the 
 insurrection that was known as "The Pilgrimage 
 of Grace," and was captured and executed at 
 Tyburn. It is also said that he carved his own 
 epitaph on the wall of his cell whilst confined 
 in the Tower of London, and that a fine screen 
 removed from the abbey to Aysgarth Church 
 has upon it his initials, and is supposed to have 
 been erected in the abbey by him. 
 
 Another association in connection with this 
 abbey is one of a rather different and more 
 agreeable character. Who has not read in 
 
 * Sonnet, " St. Mary's Abbey."
 
 Sir Walter Scott's " Ivanhoe " of the jolly 
 Prior of Jervaulx, and who will not recall to 
 mind Wilfred of Ivanhoe, the stately Rowena, 
 and the more impulsive Rebecca, the Jewess 
 of York, the long-suffering Isaac, the Black 
 Knight, and bold Robin Hood. This drawn by 
 a master hand pictures to us the social life of 
 England in a state of transition, when honest 
 Gurth is no doubt a reality as to the life of the 
 labourer of those times, when might was right, 
 and there was no peace or security except 
 beneath the shadow and by the altars of the 
 Cistercians and their kindred orders. 
 
 One cannot but regret that the ignorance 
 and fanaticism of a former age should have 
 ruthlessly destroyed so many glorious temples 
 of the ancient faith ; far better to have utilised 
 them for the worship of the reformed church. 
 Still we are thankful that the abbey of West- 
 minster has been preserved to become one 
 of the principal monuments and depositaries 
 of the greatness and glory of England ; that 
 St. Albans* still remains "the pride of that 
 
 * Since the above was written St. Albans has been 
 restored, and its ancient Bishopric been revived by Act of 
 Parliament.
 
 32 
 
 country side," and will shortly be restored to its 
 pristine splendour ; and that the munificence 
 of the Duke of Devonshire has to some extent 
 converted the ruined Priory of Bolton to its 
 former uses, so that each Sabbath morn 
 " the bells ring out o'er wood and wold and 
 plain, the accustomed call to prayer," and 
 imagination can again picture the times 
 when the solemn dirge, the pealing anthem, 
 the matins and vespers of the ancient church 
 were celebrated with all the wealth of cere- 
 monial that time and authority and custom 
 had associated with it. 
 
 " Soft, soft the joyous strains ascend on high, 
 The solemn music swells the fitful gale, 
 Now, louder still, the sacred anthems sail, 
 In thundering peals and storm the vaulted sky, 
 And now o'er Wharfedale's waters sweetly die." : 
 
 Turning away from the ruins of Jervaulx with 
 feelings somewhat tinged with regret, we 
 returned by the same route to Witton, and 
 thence to Cover Bridge, where we branched off 
 to Middleham, whose towers soon came in 
 sight. The castle is an immense ruin, and was 
 
 * Sonnet " St. Mary's Abbey."
 
 33 
 
 formerly the abode of the Nevilles, and of 
 Warwick the " king maker," and it is said that 
 king Richard III. at one time resided at it. 
 On a late occasion, at the marriage of the 
 Prince and Princess of Wales, a grand ball 
 was held within it, and great feasting and 
 rejoicing took place. The lofty walls were 
 formerly covered with ivy which some years 
 ago was removed, thus depriving it to some 
 extent of those charms that are associated and 
 invariably wedded to the ruins of old England. 
 
 After glancing at the great training establish- 
 ment of the Dawsons at Middleham, upon 
 whose moor many a distinguished racehorse 
 has taken his preliminary gallops, our next 
 business was to visit a remarkable Danish 
 camp a few hundred yards westward of the 
 castle. Here we found on an eminence stand- 
 ing by itself, and overlooking the valley for 
 miles, an inner and an outer camp completely 
 entrenched, which a handful of men could 
 have maintained against superior forces armed 
 with the ancient weapons of war. 
 
 From Middleham down the valley, over the 
 castellated suspension bridge spanning the 
 Yore, through winding roads and steep ascents, 
 we arrive again at Leyburn, to find the Market-
 
 34 
 
 place nearly deserted and the Bolton Arms 
 cleared of the guests who thronged it in the 
 morning. Sitting down to a substantial dinner 
 with the sparkling juices of the grape so bounti- 
 fully placed before us by mine host, and nature 
 being vigorously restored after the fatigues of 
 the day, the railway station is again reached, 
 and we are on our way back to York as fast as 
 the iron horse can take us, past hamlet and 
 station and town, and arrive at home with the 
 reflection that another bright scene has been 
 added to the store-room of memory, which may 
 at some future time be enriched by a further 
 visit, to wander amidst the beautiful scenery of 
 the Shawl, the noble woods and castle of Bolton, 
 or the wilder and romantic beauties of Aysgarth 
 Force and the upper waters of Wensleydale. 
 We shall conclude with the words of the poet 
 
 " For memory wanders back to bygone years, 
 
 When hope's bright beams would gild the charmed 
 
 hours, 
 And life's sweet paths were strewed with summer 
 
 flowers, 
 And the enchanter Love his crown of glory wears."* 
 
 May, 1873. 
 
 * " Marian."
 
 No. j. 
 
 Bag at &0tttncf0&0ro' Castle ant Eocfje 
 
 3 DAY with the York Tourist Society is 
 generally one of unmingled pleasure, 
 inasmuch as the most romantic scenery and 
 the historical relics of bygone ages are visited, 
 thus making us the better to understand and 
 appreciate the manners and mode of life of our 
 Saxon and Norman forefathers, in the time 
 of the royal Alfred and William the Conqueror, 
 and through the transition period when the 
 opposing races at last amalgamated as one 
 people. A few centuries later the feudal system 
 gradually passed away, to give place to that 
 glorious liberty and freedom which have since 
 become the unquestioned birthright of every 
 Englishman at the present day. 
 
 Not confining its visits simply within the 
 "boundary of the great county of York, it to 
 some extent may be said to have become 
 ubiquitous ; at one time its members will be
 
 36 
 
 found in the glorious forest of Sherwood, dis- 
 porting themselves beneath the broad shadow 
 of the Major Oak at Edwinstowe, or in the 
 beautiful pleasure gardens of the Duke of 
 Newcastle at Clumber ; on other occasions, 
 the princely Chatsworth, the lovely Dovedale, 
 and the noble Alton Towers have been visited. 
 The Duke of Rutland has allowed them the 
 privilege of inspecting his magnificent castle of 
 Belvoir, and the grand baronial residence of 
 the Percys at Alnwick, near the borders of 
 Scotland, has not been forgotten. The great 
 mansions, the castles, and abbeys of Yorkshire 
 have also had every respect and attention paid 
 them, so that to be a member of this society 
 indicates one who has considerable knowledge 
 of the highways and byways of his own country, 
 sometimes obtained under the greatest possible 
 disadvantages of wind and weather. 
 
 Replying in the affirmative to the kind 
 invitation of the Hon. Secretary (who has 
 lately returned from China) * to have a day at 
 Coningsboro' Castle and Roche Abbey, we 
 accordingly assembled at the York Railway 
 
 * A humorous allusion of Dr. Procter's in his account of 
 the excursion to the Westmoreland lakes.
 
 37 
 
 Station to take our departure for Doncaster by 
 the Great Northern Express, and left punc- 
 tually for our destination, just following a 
 Normanton train freighted with some of the 
 York sporting fraternity for the races at 
 Pomfret. The train being timed to stop only 
 at Selby, soon attained great speed, and leaving 
 the old line near Askham Bogs, branched off 
 towards Bishopthorpe, whose long rows of 
 poplars soon came in sight ; thence over the 
 hydraulic swing bridge at Naburn, past Escrick, 
 and the flat country round Riccall to Selby, 
 and so on to Temple Hurst, one of the minor 
 stations of the Knights Templars of the 
 Templestowe of Ivanhoe the modern Temple 
 Newsam near Leeds. All went " merrily as 
 the marriage bells " until our arrival at Moss, 
 about seven miles from Doncaster, where, the 
 signals being against us, we came to a sudden 
 halt. Here all was excitement, as fears were 
 entertained some sad disaster had befallen the 
 slow train in advance of us, which left York 
 about half an hour before ours. After waiting 
 disconsolately for forty minutes, news at last 
 came that its engine had broken down, and 
 the express was ordered to push it on to 
 Doncaster. Proceeding carefully, we picked
 
 38 
 
 up the derelict towards Arksey, and were soon 
 on the Doncaster platform, where an immediate 
 rush was made to the refreshment room for 
 the homeopathic doses for which the Y. T. S. 
 are so famous. 
 
 Having lost considerable time by the mishap 
 to the slow train, the carriages in waiting 
 were immediately filled, and we took our de- 
 parture for Coningsboro'. The grand church 
 of St. George, the masterpiece of Sir Gilbert 
 Scott, and of modern ecclesiastical architecture, 
 with its lofty decorated tower, standing out as 
 the most prominent object of this ancient 
 Roman station, midway between York and 
 Lincoln. On our route were the new church 
 and schools erected for the G.N.R. employes 
 and their families, and the inviting " British 
 Workman," with the legend " Come and 
 Welcome," and a pleasant suburb of charming 
 villas and tasteful gardens on the higher 
 ground at the right bank of the valley of the 
 Don. On our approach to Coningsboro', 
 the view was exceedingly beautiful, the river 
 making a considerable bend westward on 
 its course to the busy towns of Rotherham 
 and Sheffield. The castle now appeared in 
 sight, like a huge sentinel "the way to watch
 
 39 
 
 and guard," and boldly stood amongst cluster- 
 ing trees, springing from out each place of 
 vantage from the river bank to the very 
 summit of the rock itself. Relieving the 
 horses, the castle road is gained, and we are 
 soon within the precincts, and after climbing 
 the steep ascent to the margin of the fosse, 
 beneath the shelter of a clump of lofty elms, 
 partake of some refreshment of an exhilarating 
 character which our captain had fortunately 
 provided for us. 
 
 Crossing that part of the moat which has 
 been rilled up since the destruction of the 
 drawbridge, we ascend by the covered way 
 leading to the gate of the castle yard. The 
 wall is of immense thickness and of great 
 height, and is flanked by two circular towers, 
 which completely enfilade the road and ap- 
 proaches of this the most accessible part of the 
 castle hill. The gateway and adjoining walls 
 have been destroyed, with the exception of a 
 window of the inner portion of the gateway. 
 Looking towards the keep with its steep ascent 
 of thirty-three steps, and its wonderful but- 
 tresses of such strength and solidity, as must 
 preserve it for ages to come, the view is re- 
 markably striking, and includes the massive
 
 4 o 
 
 outworks to the north-east, with indications 
 of former buildings within the fortifications ; 
 whilst some noble elms tower as high as the 
 castle itself, with one leafless and sapless, but 
 still erect, stricken like the lonely tower, telling 
 of the mutations of time, and the changes and 
 chances of this mortal life. 
 
 . " Yet, tell they not the self-same ancient story ? 
 
 Of death, and life, and change, and ever say, 
 Life life is short and clouded is its glory 
 Yet the night heralds the immortal day."* 
 
 Sir Walter Scott, in his romance of Ivanhoe, 
 brings before us the times and scenes when 
 this castle was the stronghold of a Saxon 
 Thane of royal lineage, descended from Edward 
 the Confessor, and the principal occurrences 
 are supposed to take place in its immediate 
 vicinity. It would be as well here to give his 
 description of this remarkable place and its sur- 
 roundings in his own most graphic language : 
 
 "There are few more beautiful or striking 
 scenes in England, than are presented by the 
 vicinity of this ancient Saxon fortress. The 
 soft and gentle river Don sweeps through an 
 
 * " The Early Dead."
 
 amphitheatre, in which cultivation is richly 
 blended with woodland, and on a mount, 
 ascending from the river, well defended by 
 walls and ditches, rises this ancient edifice, 
 which, as its Saxon name implies, was, pre- 
 vious to the conquest, a royal residence of the 
 kings of England. The outer walls have 
 probably been added by the Normans, but the 
 inner keep bears token of very great antiquity. 
 It is situated on a mount at one angle of the 
 inner court, and forms a complete circle of 
 perhaps twenty-five feet in diameter. The 
 wall is of immense thickness, and is propped 
 or defended by six huge external buttresses, 
 which project from the circle, and rise up 
 against the sides of the tower as if to strengthen 
 and support it. These massive buttresses are 
 solid when they arise from the foundation, and 
 a good way higher up, but are hollowed out 
 towards the top, and terminate in a sort of 
 turrets communicating with the interior of the 
 keep itself. The distant appearance of this 
 huge building, with these singular accompani- 
 ments, is as interesting to the lovers of the 
 picturesque, as the interior of the castle is 
 to the eager antiquary, whose imagination it 
 carries back to the days of the Heptarchy.
 
 42 
 
 A barrow, in the vicinity of the castle, is 
 pointed out as the tomb of the memorable 
 Hengist ; and various monuments, of great 
 antiquity and curiosity, are shown in the neigh- 
 bouring churchyard." 
 
 Entering within the door, the visitor finds 
 himself in an apartment originally without 
 light, except what could be admitted from the 
 doorway itself, and, looking upward, the bright 
 sky is seen, there being neither floor nor roof 
 remaining. Some antiquarians have pro- 
 pounded the theory that there was a funnel 
 corresponding with the aperture in the dungeon 
 below, but this cannot for a moment be 
 credited.* The aperture is railed round, as 
 immediately in the centre of the dungeon floor 
 is a well, which, however, is now quite dry. 
 A rude inscription on the wall points out that 
 an unfortunate wight had fallen into it in 
 recent years, but does not state with what 
 result. Ascending a broad flight of stairs cut 
 in the wall, the next room is reached, where 
 iron rods have been fixed, in order to pass to 
 the various parts of the tower in safety along 
 
 * Sir Walter Scott believed in this theory owing to the 
 paucity of windows.
 
 43 
 
 the stone supports of the original floor. This 
 and the room above have noble fire-places, nine 
 feet wide, with a triple pillar on each side with 
 Norman capitals, which have most likely been 
 inserted in the times of one of the earls of 
 Warren, to whom, the estates of Harold, the 
 last of the Saxon kings, was presented by his 
 relative, William the Conqueror. Within the 
 circular wall, and immediately above the door- 
 way of the keep, we come to a small room or 
 alcove, lighted by two windows, the largest in 
 the tower, and a stone bench runs round three 
 of its sides. Here, doubtless, was the boudoir 
 of the lady of the castle, fitted up with the 
 rude luxury of the middle ages, and here we 
 may, in imagination, conceive that the lovely 
 Rowena, after the fatigues of the chase, or 
 when on a visit with Cedric the Saxon to the 
 noble Athelstane, may have reposed until the 
 setting sun no longer gilded it with his rays, 
 and the time arrived for their departure through 
 the mazes of the forest to Rotherwood. 
 
 " There, statue-like, in glorious state she lay, 
 The breathing model of immortal youth, 
 On each fair cheek wild wanton zephyrs stray, 
 And balmy breezes from the gentle south,
 
 44 
 
 Waving her love locks in their sportive play, 
 Kissing her ruby lips and pearly mouth ; 
 Then swiftly flying o'er the azure waves, 
 They bear their stolen sweets to ocean's caves."* 
 
 Another flight of stairs leads to the next 
 story, which is similar in character to the one 
 below, but with the addition of a recess in the 
 wall at the right side of the fire-place, which 
 possibly may have been intended for a lavatory. 
 Opening out of this apartment, we arrive at a 
 doorway admitting to the most interesting part 
 of the building. At the first glance it is seen 
 to be a chapel, formed in the thickness of the 
 wall and one of the buttresses. It is an irregu- 
 lar hexagon, twelve feet in length, in breadth 
 eight feet in the middle and six at each end. 
 The roof, which is sixteen feet high, has two 
 pairs of cross arches springing from six circular 
 columns. A narrow loophole serves for an 
 east window, and a lavatory and piscina are in 
 the wall on each side. In this chapel may be 
 seen the dog-teeth ribs in the roof, and some 
 peculiar ornamentation on the capitals of the 
 pillars. It is here that Sir Walter Scott's 
 
 * "A Reverie."
 
 45 
 
 Ivanhoe has the mock-lying in state of the 
 body of Athelstane by the monks of St. 
 Edmund's (doubtless intended for the monks of 
 Roche Abbey), and his bursting in upon them 
 in the grave clothes in which he was enveloped 
 when he escaped from their custody. A door- 
 way on the left to the entrance of the chapel 
 admits to a small room lighted by a loophole. 
 It looks like a miniature vestry ; there is no 
 ornament in it but a niche, with a trefoil cap. 
 There is also a retiring closet in this storey,, 
 and in the one below. 
 
 There has been yet another room beneath 
 the roof of the tower. The circular walls to 
 some extent have been broken down, but the 
 upper part of some of the buttresses remain.. 
 In each of these is an hollow, somewhat like 
 an oven, and in one are twelve apertures, which 
 may have been for the purpose of throwing hot 
 sand or water on the besiegers. Over the 
 alcove in one of the buttresses has been a small 
 room, part of a window yet remaining, and in 
 another is a flight of steps, which may have 
 led to the watchman's station in the highest 
 part of the castle. 
 
 The view from the battlements of the castle 
 is very lovely, and yet how different from the
 
 4 6 
 
 times of its Saxon and Norman lords. Parts 
 of the forest yet remain, but there are no longer 
 the bold archers of the glades to make free 
 with the king's venison or the pockets of the 
 wayfarers. No cavalcades of armed retainers 
 are seen to issue forth from this lofty promon- 
 tory, with its unique keep, to swoop on the eyrie 
 of some kindred freebooter ; the warder and 
 the seneschal are gone, and all is peaceful in- 
 dustry and labour. The chimneys of a colliery 
 are seen in the valley of the Don, and the iron 
 king puffing and blowing, emerging from a 
 wood, passes over the bridge to the West 
 Riding towns, or the County Palatine of Lan- 
 caster. All is changed, and the place of terror, 
 or the harbour of refuge, is now the temporary 
 abode of the tourist or the antiquary, giving 
 pleasure to the one, and opening out a field of 
 speculation or of sweet instruction to the other. 
 Truly may we say with Byron 
 
 " As from the stroke of the enchanter's wand, 
 A thousand years their cloudy wings expand 
 Around me, and a dying glory smiles 
 O'er the far times."* 
 
 * Lord Byron's " Childe Harold."
 
 47 
 
 We take our leave of Coningsboro', as the 
 impersonation of insecurity and war, and con- 
 tinue our journey to the quiet, tranquil scene 
 that awaits us at Roche Abbey the very 
 picture of peace itself. We pass by Croochill 
 Hall, the village of Braithwell, and the hamlet 
 of Maltby, where along the road the walnut 
 trees, with their bright shining leaves and 
 pendant fruit, are a principal feature of an 
 interesting landscape. The stone quarries of 
 Roche are reached, and we make our way 
 down the road, cut through the solid rock, into 
 the secluded valley. The abbey gate is soon in 
 sight, and we are thankful to gain its friendly 
 shelter from the pitiless rain that had been 
 falling for some time, and after taking tea at 
 the abbey lodge, the rain having by that time 
 ceased, set off to inspect the ruin. 
 
 Roche Abbey is said to have been founded by 
 monks of the Cistercian order in the year 
 1147, and there are lists of the abbots from that 
 period to the dissolution in 1539, when seven- 
 teen monks joined Henry Cundel, the then 
 abbot, in the surrender. Of the fabric of the 
 abbey only a gateway, placed at the entrance 
 on the side towards Maltby, and some beautiful 
 fragments of the transepts of the church, with
 
 4 8 
 
 two chapels, now remain. The church and 
 buildings have been very extensive, as the ruins 
 cover the large space of ground from the per- 
 pendicular rocks on the north to the margin of 
 the river on the south side of the valley. There 
 are also some remains on the north side of the 
 chancel of canopy work, over a tomb, and of a 
 credence table on the south nearer to the altar. 
 The surrounding scenery has very much the 
 character of Fountains, and the abbey is of 
 similar architecture to that of Kirkstal.1, being 
 clothed with ivy and pendant creepers and a 
 variety of wild flowers, making a beautiful 
 picture, enclosed in a setting of rocks and 
 woods, winding walks, and shadowy vistas 
 towards Sandbeck Park, with the crystal river 
 and its miniature waterfalls murmuring at 
 its feet. 
 
 Seen under more favourable circumstances, 
 with the setting sun's golden rays illumining 
 each arch and window, or in the softer moon- 
 light, when its silvery beams shed over it a 
 glorious halo, throwing the long-drawn shadows 
 upon the velvet lawn ; calm contemplation 
 might so entrance us with the olden life led 
 here by those, who, leaving the world, " the 
 world forgetting, by the world forgot," that we
 
 49 
 
 might in these pleasing dreams momentarily 
 banish the turmoil of the present age, and 
 realise, and perhaps envy their simple pleasures 
 and their trusting faith. 
 
 We can appropriately apply to Roche Abbey 
 those charming lines of Sir Walter Scott's in 
 praise of " Fair Melrose " 
 
 " If thou wouldst view Roche Abbey aright, 
 Go visit it by the pale moonlight ; 
 And, home returning, soothly swear, 
 Was never scene so sad and fair ! "* 
 
 The gateway is said to be of more recent 
 date, and in fact appears to have been the 
 Hospitiiim erected for the accommodation of 
 the pilgrims who were attracted here by the 
 discovery of a fragment of limestone rock 
 bearing a resemblance to our Saviour on the 
 cross, and so the abbey was called our Saviour 
 of the Roche. The woodland scenery is very 
 fine, and a little above the dam opposite the 
 abbey there is an extensive lake of several 
 acres, tenanted by swans and innumerable 
 waterfowl. There are also scenes worth the 
 attention of the naturalist and the painter. 
 
 * " Lay of the Last Minstrel."
 
 IO 
 
 The immense strata of perpendicular rock 
 covered with vegetation, where it is a marvel 
 life could be sustained, and the weird roots of 
 trees twisting and twining like a multitude of 
 serpents, grappling with the bare rock, search- 
 ing out its fissures, and anchoring the parent 
 stem safe from storm and tempest in a semi- 
 horizontal position, are impressively striking, 
 revealing nature in some of its wildest and 
 grandest forms. 
 
 The hour has arrived for our departure ; the 
 scene is so full of beauty that our farewells 
 may be uttered in the regretful language of the 
 poet : 
 
 " Farewell, sweet ruin, yet again farewell ; 
 
 Far other scenes than thine the world disclose, 
 Yet still upon my memory's tablet glows 
 A love sincere, my heart may fondly tell." : 
 
 The tourists are again on the move, and on 
 their return to Doncaster by a different route, 
 through Lord Scarborough's Sandbeck Park, 
 close to the borders of Nottinghamshire, where 
 herds of deer look boldly confident at the strange 
 intruders ; thence to Tickhill, where its grand 
 
 * Sonnet " St. Mary's Abbey."
 
 turreted church reminds one of St. George's 
 at Doncaster, and pass the market cross, with 
 its open pillars somewhat like a Grecian 
 temple, pulling up for a moment, for the con- 
 venience of the homceopathists, close by an 
 ancient building with dark stained rafters, 
 carved lintels, and antique windows, bearing an 
 inscription over the central doorway thus 
 
 + Leonardi Hospet + 
 and having over the other doorways within 
 shields, the date of its erection 1470, and of its 
 restoration 1871. 
 
 The village of Wadworth, with its gaily 
 decorated maypole, is soon passed, and the 
 miller boy riding on the carriage step is duly 
 initiated into the correct method of pig fattening 
 by the honest lawyer, whose gratuitous lesson 
 he will be in no hurry to forget. The night is 
 now throwing its shadows around us, and the 
 horses are put on, and we rapidly pass St. 
 Catherine's, embosomed in its belt of wood, 
 and are rattling through the streets of Doncaster, 
 lit up with gas, and gain the station in time 
 for the Scottish mail, which at flying speed 
 reaches York in forty-five minutes a little 
 more than Puck promised to encompass the 
 whole world in, in Shakspeare's Midsummer
 
 52 
 
 Night's Dream. So seeing off one of our 
 disabled members, injured on the stairs of 
 Coningsboro' Castle, whom may rest soon 
 restore, and make ready for "fresh fields and 
 pastures new," we are at home again, and in 
 the arms of Morpheus, dreaming of the pleasant 
 scenes and all the charming associations that 
 cannot fail to attend a day at Coningsboro* 
 Castle and Roche Abbey. 
 
 July 2gth, 1873.
 
 INTRODUCTORY TO WHARFEDALE. 
 THE STEID, BAEDEN TOWEE, AKD BOLTON PEIOET. 
 
 (An Address delivered at the York Institute, on 
 November 2ist, 1876,). 
 
 /HE next paper to be read relates to the 
 beautiful valley of the Wharfe, perhaps 
 better known and more frequently visited than 
 that of Wensleydale. The tourist from York 
 can proceed to it either by the line to Harrogate 
 or by way of Leeds. 
 
 From Harewood Bridge to Kilnsey Crag, a 
 few miles above Bolton, there is a succession 
 of scenery of the loveliest and also of the 
 wildest character. The town of Otley in the 
 plain, and the watering place of Ilkley on the 
 southern slopes of one of the most picturesque 
 parts of Wharfedale are the principal places of 
 interest on the route to " The Strid, Barden 
 Tower, and Bolton Priory," which are the 
 subjects shortly to be described. Professor 
 Phillips said of Wharfedale that " its springs 
 are pure and abundant, its air is free and bracing,
 
 54 
 
 and the Wharfe utters cheerful sounds as it 
 wanders through green meadows, or rushes 
 between lofty banks, shaded with woods, and 
 crowned by mighty rocks." But Bolton Abbey, 
 with its glorious woods, and the memorable 
 Strid, are the chief attractions of the tourist 
 who surveys with mingled emotions the noble 
 ruin once raised by the piety of a mother in 
 memory of her son, the "Boy of Egremound," 
 who "perished in the arms of Wharfe." There 
 may be many in this audience who have stood 
 beside the Strid, and there are many also who 
 have read the tale, yet none would be unmoved 
 at the tragic legend associated with the " Lover's 
 Leap." For, standing by the margin of the 
 rocks, where the river rushes wildly and im- 
 petuously along, we can picture to ourselves 
 the young heir of Romille, " in tartan plaid 
 and forest green," with hound in leash at- 
 tempting to bound across the Strid. 
 
 " He sprang in glee, for what cared he 
 
 That the river was strong, and the rocks were steep ! 
 But the greyhound in the leash hung hack 
 And checked him in his leap."* 
 
 * Wordsworth's "The Force of Prayer."
 
 55 
 
 And we can realize the momentary struggle of 
 the boy, and the agonizing shrieks of the 
 mother when she heard her only son " was in 
 Wharfe's abysses drown'd." 
 
 As the paper contains the principal incidents 
 connected with the legend, these introductory 
 remarks shall be concluded with two beautiful 
 descriptions of the scenery at Bolton and the 
 Strid by Dr. Whittaker, the historian of Craven, 
 and by Professor Phillips. The former says, 
 " but after all, the glories of Bolton are on the 
 north. Whatever the most fastidious taste can 
 require to constitute a perfect landscape, is not 
 only found here, but in its proper place. In 
 front, and immediately under the eye, is a smooth 
 expanse of park-like enclosure spotted with 
 native ash and elm of the finest growth ; on 
 the right, a skirting oak wood, with jutting 
 points of grey rock ; on the left, a rising copse. 
 Still forward are seen the aged groves of Bolton 
 Park, the growth of centuries, and farther yet, 
 the barren and rocky distances of Simon's seat 
 and Barden Fell, contrasted to the warmth, 
 fertility and luxuriant foliage of the valley 
 below." Professor Phillips, in even more 
 glowing and pictorial language, says, " closer 
 examination more than confirms the impression
 
 56 
 
 which the first view creates ; the river leaps and 
 sparkles with the freshness of mountain life> 
 the woods, if their own voices are silent, repeat 
 the echo of the waterfall ; the wild rocks and 
 hills change colour with every fancy of the 
 sky, or gleam with soft steady splendour in 
 the rich evening light. And the glorious 
 Augustinian priory, which commemorates the 
 untimely fate of the young heir of Romille, is 
 worthy of the matchless scene which surrounds 
 it."
 
 No. 4. 
 
 . &fje Stttb, Barton ftofon:, anto 
 Bolton Prior 
 
 members of the York Tourist Society 
 are continually on the move, visiting the 
 most delightful and interesting scenes that York- 
 shire and the neighbouring counties can boast. 
 Not fatigued with the long and rapid journey 
 through the lake scenery of Cumberland and 
 Westmoreland, some of its members, accompa- 
 nied by the principal civic authorities of Old 
 Ebor, took a trip to Rochdale, on sanitary 
 works intent, to glean information that may be 
 beneficial for the diminution of disease in 
 future time ; others interested in the monu- 
 ments of antiquity, or in the remains of the 
 monastic piety of our ancestors, had a delight- 
 ful day at Coningsboro' Castle and Roche 
 Abbey ; and a still larger number accompanied 
 the worthy secretary to the glades of Sherwood 
 Forest, Welbeck Abbey, Thoresby Park, and 
 the beautiful grounds and gardens of the Duke
 
 58 
 
 of 'Newcastle at Clumber. These excursions 
 have been duly recorded by the annalists of 
 the society, and it now falls to our lot to 
 describe as best we may the excursion to 
 Wharfedale, including the drive from Ilkley, 
 past Rumbold's Moor to the romantic Strid, 
 the interesting ruin of Barden Tower, and the 
 glorious Priory of Bolton. 
 
 On the 2nd September the York Tourists, to 
 the number of twenty-four, including, for the 
 first time this season, a number of ladies, left 
 the York station in a handsome saloon carriage 
 of the North Eastern Railway Company, 
 punctually at 7.45. The morning was clear 
 and bright, though one of the weatherwise 
 shook his head ominously as some distant clouds 
 arose, and prophesied a wet day, which to some 
 extent turned out correct, as showers and sun- 
 shine alternately accompanied the journey, 
 though the former was not allowed to mar the 
 pleasure of the party, as the bright side of the 
 cloud with its silver lining was ever uppermost 
 in their vision, " Nil Desperandum " being one 
 of the mottoes of the York Tourist Society. 
 
 Copmanthorpe, Bolton Percy, and the Wharfe, 
 whose upper waters we were about to visit, 
 are passed, and a short stay made at Church
 
 59 
 
 Fenton prior to proceeding on the new line 
 via Micklefield to Leeds. The corn fields are yet 
 uncleared, but active exertions are employed, 
 and the wains are going a-field to secure the 
 hopes of harvest from the fickle element that 
 has so delayed the ingathering this year. 
 At Garforth and Cross Gates we come upon 
 the West Riding Collieries, and the whole 
 aspect of the country is changed. The tall 
 chimneys and the immense mounds of small 
 coal by the margin of the pits tell of the 
 industry and wealth of the neighbouring manu- 
 facturing community of Leeds, which is reached 
 in fog and rain, looking dismally uncomfortable 
 under the gloomy atmosphere that so frequently 
 encircles it. 
 
 Having half-an-hour to spare we direct our 
 steps past the Queen's Hotel, through the 
 grandly improved Boar Lane, with its mag- 
 nificent buildings of a metropolitan character, 
 now fully alive with traffic, and the tramway 
 busses coming in from the outside townships 
 of Headingley and Kirkstall; thence to Briggate, 
 the fine central street of Leeds, from which 
 radiate all the main thoroughfares, and which 
 in our recollection on market days was lined 
 with the old-fashioned stalls, now abolished
 
 6o 
 
 for the modern Central Market and the Market 
 Hall in Vicar's Croft ; through Commercial- 
 street, where the wooden pavement lessens the 
 sound and smoothes the traffic, and so past 
 the Post Office, Peel's Monument, and the 
 busy Cloth Hall, we reach the Central Station, 
 and are soon on our journey again to Holbeck 
 Junction and over the immense viaduct 
 spanning the valley and Kirkstall road. The 
 Burley ridge is crossed, when, on a sudden 
 opening through the misty gloom, the Abbey of 
 Kirkstall appeared in all its stately grandeur 
 and glory ; thence- past enormous quarries of 
 limestone rock to the pleasant Fox and Hounds 
 at Horsforth, where the hills and wooded 
 heights assume grand proportions. The gloomy 
 portals of Bramhope tunnel are entered, and 
 the reverberating "sounds unearthly" of the 
 advancing train, try the stoutest nerves for 
 near five minutes, till it at length emerges into 
 the welcome daylight at Arthington station in 
 the Valley of the Wharfe. 
 
 A few miles below, at Harewood Bridge, 
 may be said to commence that beautiful 
 expansive valley, that scarcely has its equal 
 in the broad land of merrie England. Ascend- 
 'ing upwards from the ruins of the ancient
 
 6i 
 
 castle, and the stately imposing edifice of 
 Harewood House, with its well-timbered undu- 
 lating park, there are a succession of halls 
 and mansions, some of historic memory and 
 renown. Farnley Hall, standing on a lofty 
 eminence opposite the planted ridge of Chevin, 
 looking right and left for miles up and down 
 the valley, is a place of considerable interest, 
 and contains memorials of Cromwell and the 
 parliamentary generals, and an unequalled 
 collection of Turner's water-colours and the 
 magnificent picture of "Dort," whilst higher 
 up is Denton Park, one of the homes of the 
 Fairfaxes, where the great captains, the friends 
 and companions of Cromwell, were born. 
 The original castle no longer remains, which 
 tradition says once lodged the fiery Prince 
 Rupert on his way from Lancashire to York, 
 prior to the battle of Marston Moor. The 
 castle was destroyed by fire in the early part of 
 last century, and was replaced by the present 
 elegant structure in the Grecian style by 
 Sir James Ibbetson, Bart., Mr. Carr, of York, 
 being the architect. The neighbouring church 
 at Otley contains memorials of the Fairfaxes, 
 Fawkes, and Vavasours, and other noble and 
 distinguished families.
 
 62 
 
 The village of Pool, the towns of Otley and 
 .Burley are left behind, and the far-famed Ben 
 Rhydding appears in sight. Ben Rhydding 
 seems like an immense baronial mansion perched 
 on the steep sides of the southern slopes of 
 Wharfedale, and overlooks the beautiful scenery 
 that lies at its feet to the distant mountain 
 ridges that enclose the north-western valleys 
 of Yorkshire. This magnificent prospect is 
 observed, and then in a few moments our 
 railway journey is ended at the pretty and 
 romantic town of Ilkley. 
 
 The situation of Ilkley, the ancient Olicana, 
 is one of remarkable beauty ; stretching from 
 below Hanging Stone Cliff, on the confines of 
 Rumbold's Moor, with houses dotted here and 
 there on steep ascents and sheltered hollows, 
 down to the margin of the Wharfe, it has 
 become the resort of those whose nerves require 
 to be strung by its bracing air and life-giving 
 breezes ; and its association with early British 
 and Roman times, and the incomparable scenery 
 of the upper waters of the valley have made 
 it a favourite with the tourist and the anti- 
 quarian. Traces of the aboriginal inhabitants 
 of Britain are found on Rumbold's and the 
 surrounding moors, in the shape of pit dwellings,
 
 63 
 
 cairns and circles ; and the great Roman 
 road from Aldboro' to Colne and Manchester, 
 and a second from York by Tadcaster and 
 Adel, passed through Olicana close by its 
 fortified position on the southern bank of the 
 Wharfe. 
 
 The waggonettes in waiting are at once 
 filled, and the signal given to the drivers to 
 proceed to Bolton Bridge. Some old fashioned 
 houses with wooden rafters, and thatched roofs 
 all green with moss, look quaint and old- 
 worldly amongst the smart modern stone 
 houses that surround them ; the Crescent 
 Hotel, whose hospitality will be dispensed 
 on our return, looks on us benignantly, and 
 the fine church (where the three Saxon monu- 
 ments, memorials of a remote antiquity, 
 stand erect by the palisade of the church-yard) 
 is passed, and we are on the Skipton road, 
 winding along by the river side through the 
 most beautiful scenery. On the north of 
 Wharfe in a pleasant park, by the Roman 
 road to Knaresborough forest, looking towards 
 Ilkley, is Middleton Lodge with its chapel 
 attached, the residence of the Lord of the 
 Manor, one of the most ancient catholic families 
 in England ; further on is Rollings Hall,
 
 6 4 
 
 Bishop Heber's birthplace, now a most com- 
 fortable farmstead; whilst to the north rises 
 Beamsley Beacon, a most prominent land- 
 mark, 1,300 feet above the sea, one of the 
 highest points of this part of West York- 
 shire, standing like a sentinel surveying 
 Rumbold's Moor, the upper sources of the 
 Wharfe and the remoter Nidderdale. 
 
 Travelling along past waving woods and 
 undulating shady roads, with the Wharfe wind- 
 ing clear and bright by Nessfield Scarr, we 
 were startled by an apparition in the shape of 
 five caravans containing all the wonders of 
 the world to please the juveniles and simple 
 rustics at the country fairs ; then some park- 
 like land with beautiful Alderneys browsing, a 
 pretty picture for Cooper, Herring, or Rosa 
 Bonheur. Leaving the Skipton road at Adding- 
 ham for Bolton Bridge, near a mansion rejoicing 
 in the name of " Short Shirt Hall," to which 
 a legend of thrifty charity is attached, the 
 quaint old church of Addingham standing on a 
 gentle eminence between the village and the 
 river, and Tanfield Hall, fenced in by a semi- 
 circular wall, banked up with ferns and cluster- 
 ing evergreens, with a picturesque rustic bridge 
 spanning the road, are successively passed ;
 
 65 
 
 where, in close proximity and in a shady recess, 
 forlorn and desolate, with a few plain tomb 
 stones scattered about, stands a Quaker's 
 meeting house, dating from the times of Fox 
 and Penn in the reign of Charles II. The 
 road here rapidly ascends, bounded by woods 
 and ivied sycamores, and then descends as 
 suddenly, as Beamsley Hall and Bolton Bridge 
 are seen through the openings in the foliage 
 of the clustering trees. Complying with the 
 demands of the toll bar keeper, who is no 
 respecter of persons, be they traders or tourists, 
 but taxes all alike, we drive past the Devon- 
 shire Arms, and pull up for a moment to 
 inspect the weather-worn elm, with the lion's 
 face on an excrescence of the trunk, bearing a 
 wonderful resemblance to the king of beasts. 
 Thence past the Priory Barn and the accus- 
 tomed mill, where a three-arched gateway 
 crossed the road, and Bolton Hall, part of the 
 ancient priory, converted into a lodge by the 
 noble family of Clifford at the dissolution, 
 within whose portals Landseer has by his 
 genius immortalised " Bolton Abbey in the 
 olden time," a picture that graces alike the 
 hall and the cottage in the broad realms of 
 England.
 
 66 
 
 Passing the priory, looking solemnly grand 
 in its state of half preservation and decay, the 
 picturesque beauties of Bolton Woods were 
 spread all around us ; arrived at the rustic 
 gate, where cock robin was perched, with the 
 gnarled trees that guard the entrance, the 
 views towards the priory were singularly charm- 
 ing, whilst from the bridge leading to the park 
 and the Valley of Desolation, it was one 
 continued scene of delightful surprise. The 
 Wharfe rushing along dividing itself into several 
 branches, formed miniature islands, clothed 
 with trees and verdure, and again reunited at 
 the " meeting of the waters," gliding to its 
 own harmonious music, past the shadow of the 
 peaceful priory, " ensheltered in the vale." 
 
 Nearer the Strid is seen a freak of nature 
 called the " Eagle's Claws." A mountain ash, 
 radiant with berries, with its pale graceful 
 foliage, springs from the ground and folds 
 within its five roots, in stern embrace, a living 
 rock, with its stem resting on the centre. 
 Further on, a stone chair, on the margin of the 
 ancient bed of the river, formed by the action 
 of resistless waters in days gone by, claims our 
 attention, and amidst the sound of "waters roll- 
 ing rapidly," we approach the most interesting
 
 6 7 
 
 of nature's scenery in the ever memorable 
 Strid. Here is seen the immense power of 
 water, flood, and storm, since "primeval man" 
 inhabited the globe. There lie stupendous 
 masses of rock, overthrown and swept away by 
 the impetuous torrent, which roars and bounds 
 along in foaming spray and eddying surges 
 with resistless force, pent in by rocks worn 
 smooth by ages of incessant strife and never 
 ending motion. 
 
 Surveying here the superincumbent rocks, 
 assuming the most romantic and fantastic 
 shapes, with ivy clothed, and the innumerable 
 creeping plants and ferns that somehow find 
 sustenance and life, fringed in by belts of ash 
 and fir, of elm and oak ; the cataract of roaring 
 waters, passing onward never to return; through 
 the deep gulph that forms the Strid ; the old 
 memories and associations of the scene come 
 back with vivid force upon the mind, for it is 
 here, that legend tells us, illustrated by the 
 poetic genius of Rogers and Wordsworth, that 
 the young" Romille, " the boy of Egremond," 
 perished " in the arms of Wharfe." Roger's 
 lines are so wonderfully descriptive of the sad 
 catastrophe that we shall quote them at 
 length :
 
 68 
 
 " At Embsay rung the matin bell, 
 The stag was roused in Barden Fell ; 
 The mingled sounds were swelling, dying, 
 And down the Wharfe a hern was flying ; 
 When near the cabin in the wood, 
 
 In tartan clad and forest green, 
 With hound in leash, and hawk in hood, 
 
 The boy of Egremond was seen. 
 Blithe was his song a song of yore 
 
 But where the rock is rent in two, 
 
 And the river rushes through, 
 His voice was heard uo more. 
 'Twas but a step, the gulph he passed ; 
 But that step it was his last ! 
 As through the mist he winged his way, 
 (A cloud that hovers night and day), 
 The hound hung back and back he drew 
 The master and his merlin too ! 
 
 That narrow place of noise and strife 
 
 Received their little all of life !"* 
 
 The Lady Alice on hearing of the tragic 
 death of her only son, vowed that many a poor 
 man's son should be her heir, and legend has 
 it she removed the monks from their bleak 
 place of Embsay, to the more sheltered valley 
 
 * " Rogers' " Boy of Egremond."
 
 69 
 
 of the Wharfe, and so was built the noble 
 Priory of Bolton. Wordsworth says : 
 
 " When Lady Adeliza mourn'd 
 Her son, and felt in her despair 
 The pang of unavailing prayer ; 
 Her son in Wharfe's abysses drown'd 
 The noble boy of Egremound. 
 From which affliction when the grace 
 Of God had in her heart found place 
 A pious structure, fair to see, 
 Rose up, this stately Priory ! "* 
 
 Passing along the rocky ledge overlooking 
 the Wharfe above the Strid, we gain the 
 arbour, where one of the finest views of hill 
 and vale can be obtained, which here, as at 
 Fountains, is the " surprise." Where the 
 river bends to the north, embosomed in wood, 
 appears the massive ruin of Barden Tower, 
 whilst to the east is Beamsley Beacon, clothed 
 with heather in purple bloom, completing one 
 of the most perfect pictures of romantic scenery 
 the painter could delineate or the poet describe. 
 Ascending upward by the river side the valley 
 widens, and assumes a softer aspect, and noble 
 
 * Wordsworth's " White Doe of Rylstone."
 
 70 
 
 trees are studded here and there, some remark- 
 able for beauty, and others for peculiarity 
 of form, and notably a blasted oak stripped of 
 its bark but encased in ivy, the emblem of 
 immortality life in death ; at the same time 
 the eccentricities of nature are displayed in a 
 wide-spreading sycamore, with six trunks all 
 springing from one parent stem. At length 
 Barden Bridge is gained, where, up a winding 
 road and steep ascent, the wicket is approached 
 that admits to Barden Tower. Fronting the 
 ruin, and close to the boundary wall of the 
 enclosure, was a solitary alder tree, with cluster- 
 ing berries, just changing from greenish-red 
 into imperial-purple. The soothing effects of 
 the alder are well known, and those charming 
 and melodious lines of Kirke White's involun- 
 tarily come upon the memory : 
 
 " Come, press rny lips, and lie with me 
 Beneath the lowly alder tree ; 
 
 And we will sleep a pleasant sleep, 
 And not a care shall dare intrude 
 To break the marble solitude, 
 So peaceful and so deep."* 
 
 * Kirke White's Poem to the herb " Rosemary."
 
 7* 
 
 Passing through an arched doorway towards 
 the east side of the tower, where the outer wall 
 has been destroyed, the quadrangular or inner 
 court is reached, showing a fine south front, 
 and the foundations of a portico leading to the 
 central hall. The tower is an oblong, and 
 appears to have been built in the transition 
 period, when comfort was more sought for in 
 its erection than defence, the rooms being more 
 lofty, and the windows considerably larger than 
 in the ancient keeps of the Norman period. 
 This structure \vas erected in the reign of 
 Henry the VII, by Henry Clifford, " the Shep- 
 herd Lord," in the place of the more ancient 
 castle of the Romillies. A curious inscription 
 on the south front states that Barden Tower 
 was restored by the Lady Anne Clifford, 
 " Sheriffess by inheritance of the countie of 
 Westmoreland, and Dowager of Pembroke, 
 Dorset, and Montgomery," with some curious 
 information as to her mother, a text of scripture, 
 and finishes with " God's name be praised." 
 
 On the other side of the court, opposite the 
 main entrance, is a dwelling attached to a small 
 chapel, access to which is obtained by a stone 
 staircase from a room built over the porch and 
 vestry. The chapel is a comfortable building,
 
 72 
 
 with an old oak roof, having texts of scripture 
 on the walls, is well lit by windows on the 
 south and east, and evidently, from the archi- 
 tecture, is of the same age as Barden Tower. 
 An old broken font within the porch is said to 
 have belonged to Bolton Priory. Within the 
 kitchen, with its massive rafters, low roof, and 
 wide fire-place, are seen some fine, carved 
 cabinets, with the date inscribed upon them, 
 showing they are about 200 years old ; and an 
 ancient pike or halberd is produced as an 
 illustration of the weapons of war used in 
 centuries gone by. 
 
 The captain is impatient at our delay in 
 listening to the old world stories of the guide, 
 who claims descent from the family of Demaine 
 who came over with the Conqueror, and have 
 lived on the spot for the last 800 years. 
 Shaking his head doubtingly, he gives the 
 command for our return on the east side of the 
 valley by Posforth Gill. 
 
 The view from the road, looking back over 
 the waving woods to Barden Tower, Simon's 
 Seat, Coniston Moor, and Kilnsea Crag is one 
 of great variety and beauty, the verdant fells 
 and rugged cliffs stretching to the distant 
 horizon. The thorn bushes are fine and trim,
 
 73 
 
 and the blooming heather seems to smooth the 
 sterility of the Valley of Desolation ; whilst a 
 wonderful oak of gigantic girth, its upper 
 branches blasted by the storms of ages, stands 
 the solitary guardian at the entrance of the 
 woods, nearly opposite the Strid, whose echoes 
 are again heard, and the music of the rapids 
 where the Wharfe divides its course and again 
 re-unites is borne upon the wind, and indicates 
 we shall shortly cross the river by the wooden 
 bridge on our return to Bolton Priory. 
 
 " And hark ! the wind god as he flies, 
 Moans hollow in the forest trees, 
 And sailing on the gusty breeze, 
 Mysterious music dies."* 
 
 Entering the Priory grounds by a small gate 
 at the north-western extremity, and skirting 
 the pretty churchyard, full of modern tomb- 
 stones, and where doubtless in days of yore 
 were 
 
 " Grave stones numberless, and scutcheons old 
 Of many a noble knight, and baron bold."f 
 
 * Kirke White's poem to the herb " Rosemary." 
 f Original "M.S."
 
 74 
 
 we are admitted into the nave of the Priory, 
 which, a few years ago, was restored by the 
 eminent architect, Mr. Street, who is at present 
 engaged in performing a similar duty to the 
 south transept of York Minster. The unfinished 
 tower, erected by the last Prior, Richard Moon, 
 stands in front of the grand western doorway 
 of the church, and, similar to Fountains, has an 
 inscription in commemoration of the founder, 
 quaintly chiselled in old English characters. 
 " Jfn iljc jrcr of otor larb, ink**. |L ^ frcrpiw iljes 
 foimfctdbn mt rrtoljof sofol nob fame mam. amen." 
 
 O 1 U A* t > 
 
 The arms of the Cliffords and of the Priory also 
 are placed over the spandrils of the doorway. 
 
 The church is elegantly and substantially 
 fitted with oaken seats, and the floor is laid 
 with encaustic tiles of an ecclesiastical pattern. 
 The south windows are filled with beautiful 
 stained glass, shown at the great Exhibition 
 in 1862. The choristers' stalls are of chiselled 
 stone, and an old picture of our Saviour bearing 
 the cross is over the table beneath the east 
 windows of the choir. In the north-east 
 corner is the vestry, formerly a chantry chapel, 
 which tradition states was the vault of the 
 Claphams of Beamsley, who were there in- 
 terred in an upright position. Nothing is
 
 75 
 
 wanting to complete the restoration, except 
 an east window in harmony with the archi- 
 tecture of the church, which doubtless will 
 shortly be effected by the munificence of the 
 Duke of Devonshire. 
 
 The church of Bolton Priory is the only 
 substantial part of the monastic buildings that 
 remains. The cloisters, refectory, dormitories, 
 and chapter house have disappeared, but can 
 be traced by the ruined foundations scattered 
 about, principally on the south side of the 
 Priory. The transepts, chapels, and choir are 
 exceedingly beautiful, and the surrounding 
 landscapes to the south and east, seen from 
 openings in the walls or through the windows 
 and doorways, are unsurpassed in sylvan beauty 
 or picturesque loveliness, and are perfect 
 vignettes, such as artists endeavour to portray 
 in fading colours, whilst the originals will last 
 through winter's storms or summer's smiles 
 to delight and gratify ages yet unborn. 
 
 The waterfall on the east of Wharfe pours 
 forth its silver tide down the bare cliff as in 
 the days of yore, and the stepping stones are, 
 miniature rapids rendering any attempt to 
 cross both dangerous and futile. The sward is 
 lovely, and the well-trimmed gardens of Bolton
 
 7 6 
 
 Hall are bright with flowers, and redolent of 
 perfume. The woods are changing colour, and 
 the light and shade of autumn's varying tints 
 are giving them a grandeur unknown to youthful 
 spring. We have seen them in the month of 
 May, and in the days autumnal ; each have 
 their peculiar charms ; but the majestic glory 
 of autumn is more grandly impressive than the 
 freshness and loveliness of spring. 
 
 As we turn away from Bolton, " ever bright 
 and fair," from scenes made famous by the 
 illustrative pencils of Landseer, Cox, and 
 Turner, and classic ground by the poetic in- 
 spiration of Rogers and Wordsworth, to take 
 our departure homeward by H arrogate instead 
 of Leeds, brimful of sweet thoughts, as former 
 memories and associations crowd upon the 
 mind ; we " cast a lingering look behind," to 
 have again 
 
 " A glimpse of that fair paradise I sought 
 Eadiant with beauty, passing fancy's flight, "* 
 
 so in the future will it come in pleasing 
 dreams, and memory will perpetuate the glory 
 
 * Sonnet " Studley Park."
 
 77 
 
 of Bolton as " a thing of beauty and a joy for 
 ever," that we may say with the poet, in truth 
 and reality 
 
 " Methought I in Elysian gardens stray'd, 
 Where all the ground was velvet 'neath my feet : 
 
 With here and there a grove and pleasant glade, 
 Where streams meandering in embraces meet ; 
 
 And sparkling fountains mingled with the air, 
 
 And joy and peace and love were mirror'd there. " ::: 
 
 Sept. nth, 1873. 
 
 * " A Reverie."
 
 No, 5. 
 
 auto HortiEjum&erlariB. fHarsfcen :Eock anto 
 &gnem0utfj (JDastle atrti ^rtorg. 
 
 /HE York Tourist Society has now 
 become one of the established institu- 
 tions of Old Ebor. Its trips are always looked 
 forward to with a great degree of pleasure, as 
 it is the means of introducing the members to 
 many historical monuments of ancient times 
 and the glorious scenery that so commonly 
 encircles them. This society inaugurated its 
 first excursion, for this year, by a visit to the 
 far-famed Rock of Marsden and the interesting 
 ruins of Tynemouth Castle and Priory. 
 
 Its programme for the ensuing season is 
 replete with interest. Visits are proposed 
 to Pontefract, Chatsworth, Brimham Rocks, 
 Newstead Abbey, Alnwick and Belvoir Castles, 
 North Wales, the English Lakes, and other 
 well-known resorts of the tourist, which will, 
 doubtless, under the efficient and energetic
 
 79 
 
 management of the secretary, be attended with 
 complete success. 
 
 Leaving by the nine o'clock train for the 
 north, in a comfortable saloon carriage, through 
 the pleasant Vale of York, looking lovely with 
 the beautiful garments of spring, Thirsk and 
 and the Vale of Mowbray are passed, where the 
 Hambleton and Cleveland ranges look boldly 
 out as far as the eye can reach towards the 
 distant sea, but the western hills by Skipton, 
 Pateley, and Leyburn, are cloudy and indistinct, 
 being enveloped by the coming rain. The 
 pine, the fir, and the larch plantations dotted 
 here and there, in a varied foliage of light and 
 shade, arrest the attention, while the rooks and 
 myriads of smaller birds are busily employed 
 following the occupations of the farmer, darting 
 along with dainty morsels for the young fledge- 
 lings who are impatiently waiting with open 
 mouths for their accustomed food. 
 
 Northallerton is reached in rain, prior to 
 which, on its occurring to a gentleman learned 
 in turf matters that it was the Two Thousand 
 Guineas' day, some speculation on the event 
 was indulged in, and a lot of lively chat and 
 badinage took place. On Marmion being 
 drawn, "Charge, Chester, charge ! on, Stanley,
 
 8o 
 
 on ! " was of course alluded to, whilst in more 
 than one mind, perchance, the thought arose 
 we were near the country of the Marmions, 
 whose memorials and escutcheons are found 
 in the vicinity of Coverham and Jervaulx 
 Abbeys near Middleham, and more especially 
 at Tanfield Church in North-west Yorkshire. 
 
 The pretty watering place of Croft, on the 
 Yorkshire side of the Tees, is passed, and 
 Darlington, in the county Palatine, is at length 
 reached ; the country being flat and uninterest- 
 ing until Ferryhill is attained, and we are 
 travelling on the new line to Durham. In 
 approaching the city of St. Cuthbert the 
 scenery is delightful, and wood and fell, hill 
 and dale, running stream and winding river 
 are a goodly setting for the glorious minster 
 and the magnificent castle that bursts upon 
 the view, one unique of its kind in England. 
 
 In looking upon this grand Norman cathe- 
 dral, with its lofty towers and noble aisles, 
 companioned by the immense turreted and 
 battlemented castle reminding one of Royal 
 Windsor enclosed in an amphitheatre of 
 gently rising hills, memory will recall when 
 the first church was erected by the Saxon 
 monks of Lindisfarne, and the whole kingdom
 
 8i 
 
 of Northumbria was in heathen darkness, and 
 how, in later times, when the northern counties 
 suffered from the raids and incursions of the 
 Scots, the bishops put aside the crozier, and 
 with sword in hand, at the head of their 
 retainers, joined the barons in the field to 
 repel and drive out the intruders. 
 
 At Durham we leave the north train, and 
 take the route via Leamside Junction to 
 Sunderland. Owing to the strike, the collieries 
 were entirely closed, and wore an aspect of 
 utter desolation. Furnaces are out from the 
 difficulty of obtaining fuel, and the entire 
 industry of the district is forcibly paralysed. 
 A momentary glance of a mass meeting of 
 colliers was seen, holding up their hands, 
 doubtless, in favour of a resolution to continue 
 the strike. Let us hope, however, that wiser 
 counsels will prevail, and there will be more 
 friendly unity between the employer and the 
 employed in the future than has existed in late 
 times. 
 
 The next feature of interest that attracted 
 attention was Penshaw Hill, upon which is- 
 erected a monument in the form of a classic 
 Grecian temple to the memory of the first 
 Lord Durham. This is the most prominent
 
 object in the county, and can be seen miles 
 away in every direction. 
 
 The railway continues its course along the 
 wooded banks of the Wear, where foundries, 
 collieries, and ship-building are in the ascend- 
 ant, and we are shortly in the Sunderland 
 station. The carriages are quickly mounted, 
 and driven over the fine high bridge that spans 
 the Wear to the Queen's Hotel, where, after a 
 short stay for refreshments, we continue our 
 journey, and are shortly through the streets 
 and on the road near the sea shore in the 
 direction of South Shields. The country 
 around looks sterile ; the trees are stunted and 
 almost leafless; the cold north-east blasts arrest- 
 ing vegetation. Steamers, sloops, and schooners 
 are crowding the river down to Monkwear- 
 mouth, and the Sodor Lighthouse stands 
 prominently to warn the mariner of the dangers 
 of the " melancholy sea " on stormy nights 
 upon this rock-bound coast ; whilst inland, on 
 the brow of a gentle hill, was a handsome 
 mansion bedecked with flags and streamers, 
 indicating a wedding or a birthday, or some 
 auspicious occasion of rejoicing. A ruined wind- 
 mill, lonely and desolate, affixed the attention 
 of our travellers, which the " chiel taking notes "
 
 83 
 
 was requested to chronicle, whilst an eminent 
 civic dignitary all at once discovered that the 
 horse drawing the smaller waggonette had two 
 odd legs, which caused some merriment ; and 
 so the wags had it all their own way, sparing 
 no one in their wit, and a Roland for an Oliver 
 was taken and given in all good humour till we 
 pulled up at the little wayside Marsden Inn. 
 
 Thus arrived at the first stage of our journey, 
 the stone stile was quickly crossed and the cliff 
 reached, when a steep descent of ninety-six 
 steps, under galleries of overhanging rock, 
 brought us to the sea shore, and a sight, at 
 once marvellous and grand, repaid for all the 
 trouble of so long a journey. Standing out in 
 majestic grandeur, some 300 yards from the 
 rugged cliffs, was the imposing Marsden Rock, 
 which, encompassed at high water, would be 
 a miniature island. In 'appearance it is more 
 an oblong than a cube, its north and south 
 sides being longer than the east and west, 
 having a circumference of 300 or 400 yards, 
 and a height in some parts of over 100 feet. 
 The west side, opposite the grotto, is full of 
 caverns, in all kinds of curious forms, the 
 strata of the rock being well defined, but the 
 supports being honeycombed, are year by year
 
 8 4 
 
 becoming weaker through the action of the 
 tides. On the south, and at an oblique angle, 
 is its most interesting feature, one that 
 has, doubtless, been frequently committed to 
 canvas. Looking about due north, and nearly 
 at an angle from its eastern face, it is seen that 
 the resistless waves in centuries gone by have 
 found the weak place within the mighty rock, 
 and by their constant action have formed a fine 
 Gothic arch, some thirty feet in height. The 
 scene here in stormy weather must be grandly 
 terrible, as when the tide comes up, impelled 
 by the fierce northern blast, the current will 
 fret and chafe and press with giant force 
 against its intervening sides, and with a roar 
 like thunder will pass through, and pour its 
 repressed energies upon the outspread sands. 
 
 In walking round the rock, indications are 
 found of former footpaths all along the ledge, 
 and at high tide some rickety wooden steps 
 may be reached leading to the giddy height 
 where the flagstaff is securely moored ; whilst 
 ever and anon vegetation shows itself by moss 
 and creepers, and little tufts and bushes, which, 
 in summer weather, will add a tender grace to 
 the weather-beaten island that has " braved a 
 thousand years, the battle and the breeze."
 
 85. 
 
 Looking to the south are clusters of tall 
 rocks, standing, weird-like, on the sands, and 
 cut off from the shore ; whilst to the north are 
 others of a similar character, but of smaller 
 dimensions, which are all surrounded by the sea 
 at high water. Who can have visited those 
 rocks by the sad " sea wave " without recalling 
 the time when they were part and parcel of the 
 mainland, or fail to reflect upon the mighty 
 energy and resistless force of the continual 
 action of the boundless sea, and thus conclude 
 how, from primeval times, this impulsive agent 
 has been slowly but steadily encroaching day 
 by day upon this so-called "terra firma," and 
 that not even the command of a Canute, nor 
 the ingenuity of man, can bar its progress, but 
 only ONE controlling Voice can say, " thus far 
 shalt thou go and no further ! " 
 
 These reflections upon the power of the 
 ocean, and the futile efforts of man to restrain 
 it, naturally bring those bitterly sarcastic lines 
 of Byron's to one's memory : 
 
 " Roll on, thou deep and dark blue ocean roll ! 
 Ten thousand fleets sweep over thee in vain ; 
 Man marks the earth with ruin his control 
 Stops with the shore upon the watery plain 
 The wrecks are all thy deed, nor doth remain
 
 86 
 
 A shadow of man's ravage, save his own, 
 
 When, for a moment, like a drop of rain, 
 He sinks into thy depths with bubbling groan, 
 Without a grave, unknell'd, uncoffin'd and unknown. " :| ' 
 
 Returning to the shore, to the remarkable 
 grotto, hewed out of the solid rock since the 
 commencement of this century by the eccentric 
 and adventuresome Peter Allen, we are struck 
 with wonder at his persevering ingenuity, and 
 at the immense amount of time and labour 
 necessary to carry out his project. Entering 
 by a doorway through the rock, ten or twelve 
 feet thick, we find ourselves in a saloon of 
 considerable length, with a smooth wooden 
 floor, and a raised recess or gallery towards 
 the upper end of the room for the musicians. 
 At the sides are several circular pillars, with 
 carved grotesque heads, supporting the floor of 
 an upper chamber, access to which is gained 
 by a short staircase opposite the door; there 
 are also fire places, and open windows in each 
 apartment. On the north side a small hotel 
 is built up to the face of the rock, where there 
 are bed and sitting rooms, very well furnished, 
 the sides of the rock being ornamented with 
 
 * Lord Byron's " Childe Harold."
 
 8 7 
 
 paper hangings in the same way as the re- 
 mainder of the rooms. In the summer season 
 great numbers of people flock here, as the 
 proprietor states, " to spend a happy day." 
 
 A pleasing association in connection with 
 this romantic grotto, is one that touches the 
 feelings and revives the recollections of many 
 " most potent, grave, and reverend seigniors." 
 This Peter Allen had a daughter, said to be 
 most beautiful and fascinating, and the very 
 life and attraction of the place ; and many a 
 weary mile have the gay youth of Newcastle 
 and the neighbouring towns trudged it for a 
 shake of the hand, a sweet smile, and an 
 approving word from this charming fairy of the 
 grot. Their hearts are bounding yet at the 
 recollection, and in thus looking back upon the 
 youthful past, may nothing inharmonious or 
 regretful " disturb the pleasures of the dream." 
 
 " Oh ! maiden fair, 
 
 With golden hair, 
 Of Marsden Grot beside the sea, 
 
 On those bright days 
 
 I frequent gaze, 
 And dream thou hast come back to me."* 
 
 * Original MS.
 
 88 
 
 Ascending the steps up the steep and giddy 
 cliff a feat more difficult for some of the 
 tourists than the descent, we are again on the 
 road, which, for some distance, is both rough 
 and rugged, on our way to South Shields. 
 Passing through some curious pleasure grounds, 
 with statuary here and there of a not very 
 Phidian origin, our attention was drawn to 
 a very remarkably wise-looking quadruped 
 peeping, with comical gravity, over the wall, 
 at what some said were kindred bipeds passing 
 by ; and reflections are next made, that are 
 not complimentary, upon the ungallant conduct 
 of a great hulking overseer, who was super- 
 intending the labours of a gang of women in a 
 certain agricultural operation called " looking" 
 in a fresh turned up field. As sympathy, 
 however, is a cheap commodity, none of our 
 indignant friends got down to relieve the ladies 
 from their irksome labours, but unreluctantly 
 pushed on to South Shields, where the streets 
 were busy with the market people, the market 
 place being also full of shows and caravans, 
 conspicuous amongst which were " The Ghost 
 Illusion " and " Daniel in the Lion's Den." Not 
 having time to make a more intimate acquaint- 
 ance with the "wonders of the world," we
 
 8 9 
 
 were soon on the landing pier and directly after 
 embarked horses, carriages, and passengers on 
 board the steam ferry boat for North Shields. 
 
 The steam ferry boat was remarkable for its 
 breadth of beam, high bulwarks, and for the 
 ease and safety with which, daily, hundreds of 
 horses and vehicles, and thousands of passen- 
 gers, are safely conducted for about half-a-mile 
 through the intricacies of the navigation. As 
 far as the eye could reach, ships of all nations 
 with streamers flying were anchored in tiers, 
 and steamers and boats,- in perpetual motion, 
 crowded the Tyne. Up the river, at moorings, 
 were the "Boscawen" and "Wellesley," men 
 of war, whilst nearly a mile below was the 
 " Diamond " frigate, used for the training of boys 
 for the navy. Landing at North Shields, a drive 
 of about two miles brought us to our journey's 
 end, at the Bath Hotel, at Tynemouth, where 
 the carriages were discharged, to return later 
 in the day by the same route to Sunderland. 
 
 The village of Tynemouth is beautifully 
 placed at the mouth of the Tyne on the 
 Northumberland shore, and stretches along 
 the bay at the north of the castle rock, 
 the principal features of interest being the 
 combination of castle and priory on the same
 
 go 
 
 bold promontory facing the German Ocean r 
 and the wonderful piers and breakwaters that 
 make the Tyne accessible at all times, however 
 tempestuous the weather may be. 
 
 Leaving the Bath Hotel by the arcade into 
 the principal street leading to the castle hill, 
 a handsome drinking fountain is passed prior 
 to commencing the ascent to the castle gate. 
 Passing through the ancient arched entrance, 
 now converted into officers' quarters for the 
 garrison, and where sentries of the io5th Regi- 
 ment were on guard, we enter the castle yard 
 and stand within the precincts of the priory. 
 Approaching the west entrance, we pass along 
 the ancient Norman nave, the transepts and 
 the tower, to the beautiful choir and chancel, 
 whose fragments are so picturesque and im- 
 posing even in ruin. The east end and the 
 south wall of the chancel remain in their 
 entirety, and are graceful specimens of the 
 transitional architecture that followed the more 
 massive but shorter columns of the Norman 
 period. The arches spring with a bold and 
 tender grace, supporting a clerestory of similar 
 character, and show the choir to have been 
 a beautiful structure. The remains of a piscina 
 are seen on the south side of the chancel, and
 
 a credence table or tomb in the same wall 
 near the altar, and directly opposite, in the 
 north wall, is a recumbent sculpture with folded 
 hands, the features being defaced. Behind the 
 great altar is an arched doorway leading to a 
 mortuary chapel outside the east end of the 
 priory, and supposed to have been originally 
 added to it for interments of the Percy family. 
 The only part of the outer monastic building 
 that remains is a fragment of the great hall 
 facing the " prior's haven," which looks down 
 upon the colossal statue of Lord Collingwood, 
 keeping watch and ward seaward on the 
 entrance of the Tyne. 
 
 The priory of Tynemouth dates back from its 
 first establishment, to the times of the Anglo- 
 Saxon kings, and the Earls of Northumberland 
 had also a castle on the same promontory. 
 Both, however, at the conquest came into 
 the possession of Robert de Mowbray, who 
 surrounded the rock with fortifications, and 
 ultimately granted them to the great abbey 
 of St. Albans, the monks of which were of 
 the Benedictine order. The priory being in a 
 dilapidated state, was rebuilt by them in the year 
 mo, and the choir and transepts were replaced 
 in the reign of Henry III. The choir and
 
 92 
 
 various parts of the priory since the dissolution 
 have been used for interments, and the south 
 side of the promontory is studded with hundreds 
 of grave-stones, but burials have been dis- 
 continued since 1860. The incongruity of its 
 former associations still continue ; the monks 
 have departed, and their beautiful house is 
 now a picturesque ruin, but batteries of 
 Armstrong guns, with loo-pound conical shot 
 piled in symmetrical heaps, are ready to pour 
 death and destruction upon the foes of England 
 from the sea-girt churchyard. 
 
 East of the priory, near the formidable 
 batteries surrounding it right and left, and a 
 short distance from the edge of the perpendicu- 
 lar rock, stands the lighthouse, 154 feet above 
 the level of the sea. Ascending its winding 
 stair, under the guidance of the Trinity House 
 officer in charge, we find ourselves within its 
 glazed roof, where eighteen revolving lights, 
 with reflectors beautifully bright, will, after 
 sunset, guide the toiling mariner at sea to the 
 safe harbour within the piers of the Tyne. 
 The view, from the giddy balcony outside, is 
 one of great extent and wonderfully grand. 
 Looking up Tyne, towards Newcastle, crowded 
 with shipping, and those hives of industry
 
 93 
 
 upon its banks, where half-a-million human 
 beings are toiling in occupations not very 
 sightly or engaging, but for the benefit of the 
 human race, we see at once the secret of 
 England's supremacy amongst the nations of 
 the world, and are impressed with the power 
 that coal and steam and iron exercise over the 
 destinies of mankind. Seaward, as far as the 
 eye can reach, its bosom is covered by hull and 
 spreading sail, the graceful schooner, and the 
 screw steamer leaving a dark trail in its 
 course astern. The east coast stretches into 
 the distant clouds past Sunderland to the 
 Hartlepools ; whilst northward, thirty miles 
 away, the lovely Coquet Isle is seen a few 
 miles out from shore, and Seaton Delavel, with 
 its clustering woods, and the bold Cheviot Hills 
 on the borders of the sister kingdom, shut out 
 the view, and complete the varied landscape. 
 
 Sir Walter Scott, in his romance of 
 " Marmion," alludes to this scenery in relating 
 the sea voyage of the Abbess of St. Hilda's to 
 Lindisfarne the Holy Isle : 
 
 " And now the vessel skirts the strand 
 Of mountainous Noiihumberland ; 
 Towns, towers, and halls successive rise, 
 And catch the nuns' delighted eyes.
 
 94 
 
 Monkwearmouth soon behind them lay, 
 And Tynemouth's priory and bay. 
 They marked amid her trees, the hall 
 Of lofty Seaton Delaval ; 
 At Coquet Isle their beads they tell 
 To the good saint who owned the cell ; 
 Then from the coast they bore away 
 And reached the Holy Island's bay."* 
 
 Signing our name in the visitors' book, we 
 parted from the courteous guide to pay a 
 flying visit to the northern pier, which has 
 been fifteen years in erecting, and is still 
 incomplete. Traversing its whole length, we 
 mounted the massive staging, where an enor- 
 mous crane deposits the immense blocks of 
 stone, in order to extend the pier, and are 
 wonderfully impressed with the marvels science 
 and mechanical skill bring to bear in order to 
 overcome the forces of nature. 
 
 As time is now precious, we return to the 
 Bath Hotel to partake of the good provision so 
 bountifully dispensed by our worthy chairman, 
 and shortly after taking leave of Tynemouth, 
 are soon beneath the shadow of the grim 
 
 * Scott's " Marmion," Canto II.
 
 95 
 
 Norman keep at Newcastle, looking down on 
 scenes so different from the times when William 
 the Conqueror kept the Northumbrians in awe, 
 and passing over the high level bridge to Gates- 
 head, on to Durham and Darlington, arrive at 
 York again punctually at half-past nine. A vote of 
 thanks, proposed and seconded by two magnates 
 of the Corporation, to our " Captain " for 
 successfully carrying out the excursion, being 
 duly responded to, with this courteous recog- 
 nition of deserved merit, thus ended our 
 "happy day at MarsdenRock" andTynemouth 
 Castle and Priory. 
 
 May, 1874.
 
 No. 6. 
 
 afternoon at Scoreig SEJoobs. 
 
 |il|f/T has been our pleasing duty to record 
 sfUll on previous occasions many journeys 
 taken to the beautiful abbeys and castles of 
 Yorkshire, where the surrounding scenery, and 
 the historical incidents associated with them, 
 add a charm and a romance that will survive 
 and give similar pleasure to ages yet unborn, 
 that it is somewhat a novelty to describe a visit 
 to the Woods at Scoreby, where there is 
 nothing but the natural beauties of the place 
 and the successful occupation of pheasant 
 culture to commend it. 
 
 We -leave the castle of York, by the Hull 
 road, on a bright midsummer day, in a 
 comfortable waggonette, with sundry hampers 
 safely stored, indicating that hospitable pro- 
 vision had been provided for faint and weary 
 travellers in the wilderness whither we are 
 bound, our gallant captain mounted on the 
 box, taking proper care of the precious freight
 
 97 
 
 content with a less elevated position inside. 
 Jehu cracks his whip, and we are going merrily 
 along the Queen's highway, taking up a 
 substantial member of the party and some fine 
 luscious strawberries on the route. Heslington 
 fields are brightly gleaming in the midsummer 
 sun, and the quaint old church at Osbaldwick 
 peeps out at the travellers rapidly passing 
 it by. Grimston is attained, and we have 
 no longer to stand and deliver to the Argus- 
 eyed toll keeper, whose gate and occupation 
 have both happily disappeared " Rebeckah 
 hath triumphed, and travellers are free." The 
 road here divides ; that to the left following 
 its course through Gate Helmsley to Stamford 
 Bridge, the scene of Harold's victory over 
 the Danish King, just prior to losing his life 
 and crown at the ever memorable battle of 
 Hastings, and so on over the wolds to Driffield 
 and Burlington ; the other, to the right, by 
 way of Kexby bridge, to Pocklington, Beverley, 
 and Hull. Our course being by the latter, 
 and the road running along an elevated plateau,, 
 we have an extensive view through the wooded 
 country of Elvington and Wheldrake, lying 
 between the valleys of the Ouse and Derwent. 
 The road gradually descends past the charming
 
 9 8 
 
 Grimston lodge, with its pleasant enclosures 
 and bright green pastures, and winds along by 
 Oxtoby's windmill, showing no signs of its usual 
 bustling activity, and so the cross roads are 
 reached, where Dunnington moor is seen spread- 
 ing far and wide on the right, and the village of 
 Dunnington, snugly ensheltered beneath the 
 ridge dividing the North and East Ridings, 
 appears on the left. The road is quiet and 
 deserted ; the old coaching days are over, the 
 prancing four-in-hands, the gaily decorated 
 mails, the stout sturdy and talkative coachmen, 
 the lithe, active, and horn-blowing guards, and 
 the well-wrapped and cosy-looking passengers, 
 are now things of the past, and are only revived 
 when that prince of highwaymen, Claude Duval, 
 is graciously dancing a cotillion with his fair 
 captive on the sward, or Paul Clifford and 
 Dick Turpin are politely easing the well-filled 
 pockets of trembling merchants with an easy 
 grace. As there are no dangers now from 
 the mounted knights of industry to encounter, 
 and no stirring accidents by flood and field 
 to narrate, the historian is left to his own 
 resources to illustrate, as best he may, " a 
 plain, unvarnished tale." As the longest 
 journeys have an ending, so have our shorter
 
 99 
 
 ones, and a stentorian voice announces that 
 a "gate" obstructs the road towards the 
 haven where we would be. The obstruction 
 is quickly removed, and we pass the lodge 
 at the entrance to the Scoreby estate, where 
 a startling notice is posted against trespassers 
 without leave. As we have the "pas," and 
 no " dead carcass " * on board, we leave the 
 discussion of the problem to our candid critics, 
 and are steadily progressing through the fields 
 to the ' ' hermitage ' ' of our good friend, 
 Mr. Stephen Young, the gamekeeper and 
 deputy agent of this portion of the York- 
 shire estate of Lord Londesboro'. Our 
 active conductor has a merry time of it at 
 the gates, and the nimble way in which he 
 gets through his important and arduous duties 
 is quite commendable and deserving honour- 
 able mention, and a right merry shout rends 
 the air as we meet Mr. Young at the garden 
 gate of his hermit cell. 
 
 After a hearty welcome, a good shake of 
 the hand, and a punctilious introduction to 
 
 * A notice against trespassers, and a curious prohibition 
 against the conveyance of dead carcasses along the private 
 road, was observed and commented on by the tourists.
 
 100 
 
 those who had not visited Scoreby Woods 
 before, and an admiring inspection of the 
 grand blooming shorthorns, sheltering from 
 the sun beneath the wide spreading 'oaks 
 dividing the cow pasture from the croft in 
 front of the house, an assistant keeper pro- 
 ceeded to feed the young pheasants close to 
 the adjoining plantation. As he sprinkled the 
 food and made his peculiar call, it was pleasing 
 to see how they came about him, almost as 
 tamely as barn-yard fowls, and yet how they 
 shrunk and scuttled away at the sight of 
 strangers and objects unfamiliar to them. 
 
 As pheasant rearing is a peculiar art, and 
 requires constant care and attention to secure 
 success, we found everything at Scoreby as 
 perfect as science, money, and skill, could 
 possibly accomplish. Westward of the her- 
 mitage, and closely adjoining, are two pastures 
 specially devoted to that object, and here, in 
 regular order, were lines of coops, latticed in 
 front, with the " Gallina " or common hen, 
 and the young pheasant brood nestling beneath 
 her wings. Passing between the lines through 
 the long grass, with heaps of sheltering thorns 
 in front of each coop, the pheasants were 
 alarmed at our approach and concealed them-
 
 101 
 
 selves in the thorns and grass, and finally 
 returned to the pseudo mother, when all apparent 
 danger was over. Here were some hundreds of 
 pheasants in all stages, some a fair size and 
 able to fly, others smaller, and some the 
 size of young chickens two or three weeks old. 
 The feeding process was gone through here, 
 and Mr. Young and his assistant were at once 
 recognised as old friends, and no fear or shyness 
 was evinced. 
 
 It is the custom, on this estate, for the 
 keeper to search the woods, fields, and 
 hedgerows in the spring, and gather all the 
 eggs that can be found, and then place them 
 under the hens kept in the farm yard for the 
 purpose. When the young pheasants have 
 attained a certain size, they are taken in the 
 coops to the woods, and the hens are finally 
 withdrawn in September, but the feeding still 
 goes on, and in the comparative wildness of 
 these solitudes, in the presence of the keepers 
 they are still tame, so that in the shooting 
 season they are not allowed to visit them. 
 
 The building in which food for the pheasants 
 is prepared, is stationed in the first of the 
 pastures nearest the house, and has fire 
 places, and boile/, and all kinds of apparatus
 
 102 
 
 for the purpose ; the food principally used 
 is rice, Indian corn, tallow crap, and 
 boiled rabbits, the latter being put through 
 a sausage mill and ground up, bones and all. 
 
 The precautions taken for the preservation 
 of the pheasants from the depredations of sly 
 reynard the fox, and the poaching fraternity, 
 are considerable, a keeper being out at nights 
 ranging the precincts, and discharging his signal 
 gun each half-hour. In addition to this, at 
 each corner of the pasture the furthest away is 
 a formidable Cerberus in the shape of a watch 
 dog, hound or mastiff, chained to his kennel ; one, 
 of whom, a magnificent animal, a cross between 
 the two, rejoicing in the name of Lion, 
 looked very much like the king of beasts. This 
 gentleman showed his fine rows of teeth to 
 the assembled tourists, and very nearly left his 
 mark on our illustrious conductor, who hastily 
 made a strategic movement to escape his 
 tender mercies, and vowed he had much rather 
 have fallen in with the ' Hanley " bull dog 
 than the Scoreby " Lion " in an encounter 
 for dear life. 
 
 Proceeding onward through the carriage 
 drive, the principal wood at Scoreby is entered, 
 and it is seen at once we are a month too late
 
 103 
 
 for the glories of the rhododendron, which is 
 going out of bloom. How charmingly secluded 
 from the world are those long vistas, fenced 
 in by firs of gigantic growth, tapering so high 
 and so gracefully to the sky; how delightful 
 to the senses of sight and smell, and how 
 refreshing from the dust and turmoil, and the 
 hum of busy life left far away in town ; how 
 sweet the abandon and banishment of care, and 
 how glorious to find beneath the cooling shade a 
 rustic seat and a table set out in the wilderness 
 for the thirsty and hungry souls, whose appetite 
 for sylvan enjoyment is keen and engrossing, 
 who do full justice to the one, whilst 
 admiring the bounty and beauty of nature so 
 unsparingly spread around them with no 
 niggardly hand. 
 
 Whilst some are engaged in prosaic occupa- 
 tions, others are interested in viewing the 
 pleasant glades and woodland scenery by which 
 we are surrounded. Down a long avenue to 
 the south, in a fair open space, is the American 
 garden, full of rhododendrons and lilies, 
 the climbing, sweet-scented honeysuckle, and a 
 variety of ferns and creeping plants, hemmed in 
 by firs, larches, and oaks. On the north of 
 the principal avenue, there is a marvellous
 
 104 
 
 assemblage of trees, principally of the fir tribe, 
 assuming grand proportions and wonderful 
 forms, amongst them, one, which the storm 
 had shattered down to the stem, yet had again 
 branched out and bore upward from the 
 trunk what might seem several distinct trees. 
 Another, whose roots had been upheaved 
 by the force of a mighty tempest, was inclined 
 at an angle sufficient to have borne it headlong 
 to the ground, had again recovered its 
 equilibrium, and its branches clothed in foliage 
 beautifully green, had shot out boldly upward, 
 betraying no tokens of its apparent overthrow 
 many years ago.' 
 
 Returning to our companions a scene met 
 the view reminding one of olden times, and of a 
 picture that Claude, Watteau, and Gainsborough 
 would have delighted to paint. The extempor- 
 aneous table spread out with refreshments 
 beneath the shelter of the wide-spreading tree, 
 the occupants of the rustic seat in various 
 attitudes and motley costumes, others on the 
 green sward in picturesque groups reclining 
 near to the trenches, and the waggonette, 
 minus the horses, pushed back upon the centre 
 of the drive, with four industrious elders 
 intently and distractedly engaged in solving
 
 105 
 
 questions of sublime moment,* and Jehu and 
 the under gamekeeper reclining at full length 
 at the intersection of the avenues, gazing into 
 the heavens and perchance moralising like 
 Jaques, upon the waywardness and eccentrici- 
 ties of humanity close by ; this was a picture 
 once seen not likely to be forgotten by the 
 veracious chronicler of this excursion. 
 
 How grandly impressive are those woodland 
 solitudes, how marvellous and how varied are 
 their animal, insect, and vegetable life; how 
 pleasing to hear the coo of the stock dove, the 
 sharper call of the pheasant to his mate, and 
 the twittering of the multitudinous songsters 
 of the grove ; how sweet and delightful to 
 hear the gentle murmur of the rivulet, and the 
 soft sighing of the wind, as the setting sun 
 throws a glorious halo on the gently waving 
 trees, ere he sinks beneath the glowing west. 
 
 The shades of evening are coming on apace, 
 and the " al fresco " entertainment is brought 
 to a termination, by a trio of vocalists who 
 wake the surrounding echoes with the merits 
 of the " Country Schoolmaster," the hunting 
 song of " John Peel," and a long reiterated 
 
 * A whist party.
 
 io6 
 
 ditty appertaining to the "Grand old Woods ;' r 
 so after packing up the remains of the feast, 
 and thanking our gallant captain and other 
 friends for their attention to our wants, the 
 horses are put on, and after a hearty farewell 
 to Mr. Young, we are soon through the fields, 
 and on the road again to Old Ebor, with the 
 satisfaction of having spent a glorious afternoon 
 beneath the shady coverts of Scoreby Wood, 
 where 
 
 " The trees drop balsam, and on all the boughs 
 Health sits and makes it sovereign as it flows."* 
 
 July 13^, 1874. 
 
 * From a book on " ancient coins."
 
 No. 7. 
 
 Castle, fSlUron ILobtje, anto Cafcotfjorne 
 Camp. 
 
 the programme of the York Tourist 
 Society, issued at the commencement 
 of the season in the spring of 1874, Pickering 
 was included as one of the places of interest 
 to be visited in the course of the year, and 
 Tuesday last was eventually selected as a 
 fitting day for its accomplishment. 
 
 On arriving at the York Railway Station, 
 we found a goodly number of the tourists 
 assembled, including the Lord Mayor,* the 
 Sheriff,t and other civic dignitaries, and many 
 of the best members of the society, who rarely 
 fail to be present, and enjoy those agreeable 
 excursions so ably planned and carried out by 
 the excellent honorary secretary, Mr. Anderson. 
 As the morning was anything but encouraging 
 
 * Mr. Alderman March.. f Mr. Alderman Dove.
 
 io8 
 
 for the expedition, the rain having, for the 
 preceding six hours, come down with a volu- 
 bility we have not lately been accustomed to, 
 the tourists were well provided with the neces- 
 sary materials to encounter successfully the 
 recurrence of so unwelcome and depressing a 
 visitor, and with many anxious wishes for a fine 
 day, we took our departure in one of the 
 comfortable saloon carriages of the North 
 Eastern Railway Company, attached to the 
 9-40 Scarbro' train. 
 
 We glide out of the station a few minutes 
 late, and are outside the city walls, where 
 chaos seems to reign supreme. Engine and 
 carriage sheds, steel rails, and wooden sleepers, 
 iron wheels, bolts, and chairs, and all the im- 
 mense material of the head quarters of this 
 leviathan company, are scattered about in 
 admired confusion, soon, however, to give place 
 to order and system when that noble structure* 
 shall arise complete in all its great proportions, 
 revealing to the traveller in the surrounding 
 prospect a scene of imperial grandeur and 
 magnificence worthy of the fame of the queenly 
 .capital of the north. 
 
 * The New Railway Station opened in 1877.
 
 log 
 
 The route from York to Pickering is full of 
 interest, and has many associations of historic 
 lore and pleasing tradition connected with it. 
 Shall we instance the once renowned castle of 
 Sheriff Hutton, looking so gloomily over the 
 intervening woods, where, for generations, 
 the great family of the Nevilles held almost 
 regal state and sway, or fail to recall those tender 
 recollections associated with that beautiful 
 fragment of paternal piety and fond remem- 
 brance when we look upon Kirkham Priory, in 
 the narrow Derwent Vale, or the still greater 
 changes time has wrought on the more ancient 
 Derventio, the modern Malton, famous for its 
 settlement by the Brigantes, and its after 
 occupation by the all-conquering Romans. 
 
 It is in the midst of harvest, and the golden 
 corn is being rapidly reaped, but little is yet 
 secured owing to the stormy weather of the 
 preceding week, and the heavy rain of the 
 morning prevents any active exertions in the 
 fields until later in the day. The hay has 
 been well won, and the pastures are assuming 
 a luxuriant green, giving promise of abundant 
 food for the lowing kine, and the swedes and 
 mangolds are daily progressing for the winter 
 store. The graceful fir trees stand erect, and
 
 no 
 
 with luxuriant and varied foliage charm the 
 sense of sight, and with dewy odours scent 
 the gale with their balsamic sweetness. The 
 scenery from Barton Hill to Hutton is delight- 
 ful, all along the winding Derwent, enclosed by 
 rocky heights and verdant woods ; and the 
 charming Castle Howard station deserves a 
 passing notice as a gem of neatness, made 
 bright and perfected by floral beauty. 
 
 A short stay is made at Malton to attach us 
 to the Whitby train, which, after a straight 
 run to Rillington, is soon upon the branch by 
 Marishes to Pickering, which is reached, ac- 
 according to the programme, a little before 
 half-past eleven. Placing ourselves under the 
 guidance of Mr. Watson, of that town, (whose 
 gracious consideration and kindness will be 
 duly acknowledged in its proper place by and 
 by), our tourists wend their way up the steep 
 thoroughfare to the Black Swan Hotel, which is 
 the principal inn of this ancient market town. 
 
 After ridding ourselves of certain impedimenta 
 until our return, our first visit was directed 
 to Pickering Low Hall, the residence of 
 Mr. Kendall, J.P., the well-known collector 
 of antiquities, who courteously received the 
 whole company, and threw open the various
 
 Ill 
 
 cases of his most interesting museum for their 
 inspection. An antique circular dish was ex- 
 hibited, having emblematic designs thereon of 
 the Blessed Trinity, said to have formerly 
 belonged to the abbey of Rivaulx. The col- 
 lection of arrow heads, flint hammers, bronze 
 weapons, British urns, and various types of 
 skulls found in barrows and tumuli in the 
 surrounding district is considered unique, or at 
 all events only equalled by the collection in 
 the British Museum. Various other memorials 
 of olden times were placed in the' beautiful 
 grounds surrounding the hall, including stone 
 crosses, a British cairn, ' a variety of chiselled 
 and ruder stones, each having a history attach- 
 ed to it, and a long peculiar slab, with tracings 
 thereon, somewhat in the form of an hiero- 
 glyphic, the signs and language of which were 
 unknown to those present. The garden was 
 also remarkable for some fine specimens of 
 stately beech and walnut trees. 
 
 Leaving our kind antiquarian friend, whose 
 further hospitable intentions we are obliged to 
 decline, the venerable church of St. Peter 
 claims our attention. Entering by one of the 
 footpaths through the churchyard, we pass 
 through the antique porch into the church,
 
 112 
 
 which consists of nave, aisles, transepts, chan- 
 cel, and tower, surmounted by a lofty spire. 
 The church is very ancient, and contains some 
 Norman pillars and arches in the nave, with a 
 mingling of early English and the decorated 
 style of the I4th century in the other parts of 
 the edifice. The east window of five lights 
 contains some good modern stained glass, 
 erected in 1861 to the memory of Thomas 
 Mitchelson, Esq., 'the figure of our Saviour 
 occupying the central light, and the four evan- 
 gelists the others. There are two piscinas in 
 the south wall, one near the porch and the 
 other in the chancel, where, closely adjoining, 
 are three sedilia with sculptured canopies. 
 Within the altar, on the north side, are two 
 life-size figures in alabaster of a knight (in 
 armour) and his lady, recumbent with folded 
 hands, and with figures of angels at the head 
 of each ; on the south side also is a sculptured 
 knight in armour, the legs crossed, with sword 
 and shield emblematic of the Knights Templars. 
 Tradition says he was one of the noble family 
 of Bruce. These figures, with the exception of 
 the angels, are in an admirable state of preser- 
 vation, and are almost unique of their kind. 
 There are many tablets in the church erected
 
 "3 
 
 to the memory of local worthies ; amongst 
 them are the Robinsons, Lloyds, and Pother- 
 gills, and two gentlemen of Pickering who 
 were aldermen, and one of them, in 1805, Lord 
 Mayor of the city of York. 
 
 The castle is next visited, and is reached by 
 the steep ascent of Castlegate, past the High 
 Hall with its beautiful gardens and fine pros- 
 pect over the Pickering valley. The ancient 
 gateway has been greatly altered, the arch 
 being built up and a modern smaller doorway 
 substituted for it. On each side of it, on the 
 outer ramparts, are insignificant cottages, with 
 the slopes occupied as market gardens. It is 
 only when the gate is passed, the tourist has 
 any conception of the magnitude of the defen- 
 sive works inside. The outer wall is still in 
 existence, and encloses an area of three acres. 
 It is nearly its original height except on its 
 western side, where it simply forms a fence 
 from the precipitous height looking on to the 
 railway and the river below. Its principal 
 defences have been four square towers built on 
 the outer wall, and the great keep raised upon 
 the immense artificial mound, thrown up in 
 the centre of the castle yard. The mill or 
 beacon tower at the south-west angle is in a
 
 fair state of preservation, and so is the pretty 
 ivied tower of Fair Rosamond, so called from a 
 tradition that the beautiful mistress of Henry II. 
 was once a prisoner within its walls. The 
 Devil's Tower on the north is more dilapidated, 
 and looks far more like a prison than that of 
 Fair Rosamond. In the curve of the wall on 
 the north-west, and behind the modern manor 
 court-house, was a chapel, a so-called " Saxon" 
 circular arch (certainly something like Conings- 
 boro') indicating its position. The site of the 
 chapel is now an inclosed garden. Ascending 
 the covered way by the flanking tower guard- 
 ing the inner moat, after some exertion the 
 circular keep is gained, but it is a complete 
 ruin, only part of the lower storey now remain- 
 ing. The views here are exceedingly fine, and 
 more especially to the west where Beacon Hill 
 is pointed out as the place where the Crom- 
 wellian cannon battered the castle and forced 
 it to surrender. Between Fair Rosamond's 
 tower and the castle gate the ground has been 
 levelled, and a beautiful croquet lawn formed, 
 which is quite a contrast in its peaceful con- 
 tendings to its former warlike associations. 
 
 The town of Pickering is built on gentle 
 rising ground on the lower slopes of the castle
 
 "5 
 
 hill, and is said to be of ancient origin, dating 
 long before the Christian era, and tradition 
 asserts its name originated in a certain British 
 king losing his ring whilst bathing in the 
 Costa, which was afterwards found in the belly 
 of a pike, and hence its name. Whether these 
 be " true legends " it matters little at the 
 present moment to decide, but there is one 
 thing that the inhabitants of Pickering should 
 do, and that is to get possession of the castle 
 and its grounds, clear out the shabby cottages 
 and the market gardeners, and make the castle 
 yard and its slopes a place of pleasant recreation 
 for the people, which will gain for them the 
 commendation of the travel-worn tourist and 
 the grave approbation of the antiquary. Here, 
 as at Pomfret, the castle and its appendages 
 are in possession of the Crown as pertaining to 
 the Duchy of Lancaster, and it is its unquestion- 
 able duty to hand over those national monuments 
 to the local authority for proper preservation 
 from further decay, so that those records of 
 the mode and manner of life of our ancestors 
 may be entirely freed from contamination 
 with cabbage gardens, and growers of liquorice 
 and cucumbers, and those ivy-mantled towers 
 may be protected from the indignity of being
 
 n6 
 
 converted into miserable stables and cowsheds 
 for the sake of a few paltry pounds being added 
 to the national exchequer. 
 
 One of the principal items, in the programme 
 to be got through, was the kind invitation of 
 Mr. Watson to pay a visit to " Elleron Lodge," 
 his delightful country residence on the moors, 
 between five and six miles from Pickering. 
 The carriages were drawn up in front of the Swan 
 and were soon travelling on the Kirbymoorside 
 highway, until we branch off to the north 
 towards Cawthorne and Newton Dale. Our 
 progress is only slow owing to the limestone 
 roads being heavy with the rains, and being 
 nearly all up hill to the moors. Here and there 
 are patches of vegetation, and the fields on the 
 slopes and in the hollows are waving with 
 corn yet green, showing the harvest on those 
 bleak moors will not be yet ; and young planta- 
 tions are springing up, which in future years 
 will add a charm and give a softer aspect to 
 the surrounding desolation. The moors stretch- 
 ing right and left are gleaming with the purple 
 heather and the drooping blue bells, whilst 
 those in the far horizon towards Whitby or in 
 the direction of Rosedale are tinted with a 
 more sombre hue. Arrived at the Cawthorne
 
 Hills we find the gate open, and a road formed 
 and newly made, descending for nearly a mile 
 down the steep edge of the adjoining moorland 
 gradually to Elleron Lodge. Its features in a 
 few years will be fully developed, and the 
 ornamental trees, plants, and shrubs will have 
 attained proportions so as to change it into a 
 smiling oasis in the midst of the barren desert. 
 The watercourse in the valley has been taken 
 advantage of to form a beautiful miniature lake, 
 and the most exquisite taste has been shown in 
 the formation of its surroundings. The rustic 
 bridges, the winding walks, the lovely dells, and 
 the murmuring waterfalls and cascades, with 
 verdure, ferns, and flowers, will in time make it 
 a perfect paradise. Altogether the scene is one 
 of great beauty, and may the genial owner, who 
 ten years ago commenced building the lodge, 
 and who since that time has been enclosing, 
 planting, and road making, long survive to see 
 the work of his hands in that state of perfec- 
 tion that time will eventually give to it. 
 
 The lodge is built on a gentle eminence look- 
 ing south facing the valley below the Cawthorne 
 heights, and is fitted up in elegant style, and 
 occupied by the owner during the few months 
 of summer. The tourists were most kindly
 
 n8 
 
 and graciously received by the lady of our host, 
 and immediately ushered into a spacious 
 marquee erected on the lawn in front of the 
 house. The Lord Mayor and Mrs. Watson 
 led the way, followed by the Sheriff and the 
 remainder of the guests, and a banquet on 
 a princely scale was immediately served, to. 
 which ample justice was done by the assembled 
 tourists. It would not be in accordance with 
 good taste, nor with the usages of English 
 society, to dilate further on this subject ; nor 
 would it be agreeable to the kind and honour- 
 able nature of our worthy host to have, in 
 American fashion, all the world advertised and 
 advised as to each particular dish or viand or 
 brand of wine placed before us ; suffice it to 
 say that the kind reception, the elegant enter- 
 tainment, and the pleasurable words so freely 
 uttered, will long live in the memory of those 
 who were fortunate enough to be present, and 
 that the name of Elleron Lodge and its happy 
 possessors will bring to mind one of the most 
 agreeable excursions of the York Tourist Society. 
 We are reminded that in the midst of 
 pleasure time flies, and railway trains wait for 
 none but railway kings, and as we have no- 
 one in the company entitled to the honour, we
 
 prepare to depart, our kind host leading the 
 way to the Roman road, which, commencing 
 at York, proceeded to Malton, Cawthorne, 
 Dunsley, and finally to Whitby, where the 
 Roman galleys doubtless found safe harbourage 
 within the tidal waters of the Esk. This road 
 was sixteen feet in width and paved with stone, 
 some sections of which were shown by the 
 removal of the soil and heather. Retracing our 
 steps, and crossing the adjoining moor, where 
 fire had recently scarified a portion of the 
 heath, our course was taken to the wonderful 
 fortified Roman camp of Cawthorne. Tramp- 
 ling through the heather, the startled grouse 
 flew fearfully away, the skulking rabbit 
 hied him to the nearest friendly shelter, and 
 the bleating sheep looked serious, and scruti- 
 nized the band of strange intruders. A Roman 
 well was met with on the route, and the 
 babbling brook was crossed prior to commencing 
 the ascent of the narrow gorge and pass leading 
 direct to the centre of the camp. Having 
 gained the summit, a magnificent prospect 
 opened out on every side, showing with what 
 prescience the Romans had chosen this elevated 
 plateau for a permanent fortified position. 
 On this heath-clad table-land, with the slopes
 
 I2O 
 
 and sides softened with the young fir planta- 
 tions, are no less than four camps, the en- 
 trenchments still visible, though overgrown with 
 heather, and it was here that the legionaries of 
 Imperial Rome extended and established their 
 empire over the warlike Brigantes, until they 
 were unavailingly recalled to defend the great 
 mother of civilization from the successful 
 assaults of the Vandals and the Goths. 
 
 The carriages are found waiting our return 
 at the edge of the moor, the stragglers are 
 picked up, and it is a race to Pickering to save 
 our tea and catch the train. Our progress 
 is rapid, as this time the gradients are in our 
 favour, and the castle and the spire of Pickering 
 are shortly seen ; the bridge and railway 
 crossing are speedily passed, and we pull up 
 once more at the hostelry of the Swan, where 
 tea is quickly served and as rapidly despatched, 
 and are ere long travelling homeward to York, 
 in the meantime passing special resolutions 
 and votes of thanks to those to whom we were 
 indebted for so pleasant an excursion to 
 Pickering Valley and Elleron Lodge.* 
 
 August 2oth, 1874. 
 
 * Mr. and Mrs. Watson, on the 6th July, 1876, again 
 graciously entertained a still more numerous party of the 
 York Tourist Society.
 
 No. 8. 
 ILtncoInsfjtre. 3Emcoln iHinster, Boston, anto Boston 
 
 the annual meeting of the York Tourist 
 Society, held in the month of May, 
 amongst the places proposed to be visited 
 was the ancient town of Boston, in compliance 
 with an invitation from Mr. Bishop, an inhabit- 
 ant of that town, a gentleman well known 
 to many members of the society. Accordingly* 
 after some correspondence on the subject, a 
 circular was issued intimating the excursion 
 would take place on Thursday, the 22nd July, 
 leaving York by the early train at 6.45, via 
 Doncaster, Retford, and Lincoln to Boston, the 
 time of arrival at the latter place being ten 
 minutes to twelve. 
 
 The weather having been unpropitious and 
 altogether discouraging for the proper en- 
 joyment of the bold and romantic scenery 
 on our previous exploration of the sources 
 of the Nidd at Pateley, Steane Beck, and
 
 122 
 
 Middlesmoor in Nidderdale the same weather 
 still continuing, it was not expected there 
 would be a strong muster to Boston, as the 
 scenery on the route has nothing of an 
 attractive character for the tourist, the only 
 compensation being the pleasure of viewing 
 one of the grandest specimens of mixed 
 Norman and early English architecture to be 
 found amongst the cathedrals of the country, 
 and one of the finest parish churches of which 
 the broad land of England can boast. 
 
 A select party, therefore, assembled on the 
 platform of the York station, to carry out 
 the object of the expedition, including the 
 Lord Mayor,* the Lady Mayoress, several 
 aldermen, magistrates, councillors, and other 
 gentlemen who are always first and foremost 
 in promoting those excursions. As the night 
 had been stormy, and rain still fell, overcoats 
 and umbrellas were necessary appendages of 
 the journey, though fortunately on arriving 
 at our destination they were not required as 
 had been anticipated. 
 
 Punctual to the moment the train glided out 
 of the station, calling successively at Naburn, 
 
 * Mr. Alderman Terry.
 
 123 
 
 Escrick, and Riccall, prior to its arrival at 
 Selby. On crossing the Ouse, a good view 
 of the fine abbey church, founded and endowed 
 by William the Conqueror, was obtained. On 
 the other side of the Aire, past Temple Hurst, 
 a preceptory of the knight templars of old, a 
 vast sheet of water covered the low-lying 
 lands, the hedges alone being visible, and the 
 crops on the route were badly laid and damaged 
 by the stormy weather. Arriving in due time 
 at Doncaster, Sir Gilbert Scott's stately struc- 
 ture, replacing the church of St. George 
 destroyed by fire in 1853, attracts attention, and 
 is considered the finest ecclesiastical building 
 of the present century. A short stay is made 
 until the Leeds train arrives, when we are 
 at once despatched to Retford. The Great 
 Northern Company, like the North Eastern 
 at York, is busy increasing its works for the 
 accommodation of an enlarged traffic, and 
 Doncaster, as the great depot of the company, 
 must derive immense benefit from the con- 
 tinual enlargements of the railway establish- 
 ments in its vicinity. 
 
 The only features of interest, on the route from 
 Doncaster to Retford, are the fine, undulating 
 park and grounds of Rossington, belonging to
 
 124 
 
 Jas. Brown, Esq., late one of the members 
 for Malton, prior to its losing its second repre- 
 sentative by the last Reform Bill, and the 
 ancient market town of Bawtry, on the borders 
 of Nottinghamshire, and Bawtry Hall, formerly 
 the residence of Sir Chas. Lowther, Bart., the 
 father of the honourable member for York. 
 
 At Retford we stay twenty minutes before 
 the train starts for Lincoln. Rain has fallen 
 the whole way from York, and it continues 
 until the Trent is reached near the ruin of 
 Torksey Castle. Here we cross the broad 
 stream swollen to overflowing, its upper reaches 
 in the Midland counties being encompassed 
 by wide - spreading lakes, causing immense 
 damage to the grain and other crops, and 
 bearing along its sullen bosom quantities of 
 unwon hay swept from the low-lying ings 
 upon its borders. 
 
 The sun had been struggling for some time 
 to make his appearance, and his first beams 
 rested upon Torksey Castle, standing on a 
 gentle knoll of ground, on the Lincolnshire 
 side of the Trent. The castle has been built 
 of brick, with stone turrets, in the Tudor style, 
 and belonged to the Jermyn family. It is 
 quite a ruin, and was sacked in the times of
 
 125 
 
 the Civil Wars, and never restored. It is 
 interesting to the antiquarian as an encamp- 
 ment of the Danes in 873 ; as the place where 
 Paulinus, Archbishop of York, baptised his 
 Christian converts in 630, when on a missionary 
 excursion in the Mercian kingdom ; and also 
 as the site of a Roman granary. 
 
 Still journeying onward through the Lincoln- 
 shire fens, where long reaches of level country 
 spread out before us, intersected continually 
 by dykes and canals, with few hedges and 
 fewer trees to vary the monotonous view, we 
 approach the neighbourhood of Lincoln, where, 
 to the north, appeared a wooded range of hills, 
 then a park on the slopes, then the six 
 windmills on the summit, standing like weird 
 sentinels keeping watch over the boundless 
 plain, and finally the grim Norman fortress 
 and the glorious minster, overlooking the steep 
 streets and quaint houses of the old city. 
 
 Having an hour to spare, conveyances were 
 obtained in order to assist us up the hill to 
 the minster, to have a rapid view of the 
 temple, whose site is more commanding and 
 whose grandeur is unsurpassed in England 
 except by St. Peter's, of York. Taking the 
 route of Broad Gate and Lindum Road, we
 
 126 
 
 dismount and ascend the narrow path, and 
 climb the "Grecian steps " of Greeston Place, 
 passing through an ancient arch leading to 
 some monastic buildings, with fine sculptured 
 coats of arms below the gables, and thence 
 to the east end of the minster yard, opposite 
 the gateway at the north-east angle of the 
 chapter house. 
 
 The east front of the cathedral is exceedingly 
 fine, and is a noble example of geometric 
 decorated gothic, the pinnacles, sculptures, 
 and windows all harmonizing and completing 
 its proportions. At the north-east corner 
 stands the holy well, and much nearer the 
 east than at York rises the chapter house, 
 which is a decagon of early English, supported 
 by immense flying buttresses from the outside. 
 Internally the floor slopes, and the roof is 
 supported by a central pillar, which lessens 
 the effect of the magnificent building after 
 you have seen the grand unsupported " house 
 of houses " at York. 
 
 Passing in by the north-east door, opposite 
 the chapter house, we found some of our 
 tourist friends, who had come over-night to 
 Lincoln to see more of its antiquities than we 
 could possibly accomplish, companioned by
 
 127 
 
 the guide. The beautiful ladye chapel, behind 
 the altar, with its splendid window and cano- 
 pied tombs, burst upon the view, and a murmur 
 of admiration escaped us ; the " dim religious 
 light " struggling through the deep recessed 
 and lofty windows, revealed the beauty of the 
 structure the fine pillars, the lofty arches, 
 and the grand clerestory of the angel choir. 
 The north aisle of the choir, the chapter house, 
 and the cloisters were next visited ; in the 
 latter, beneath the library, was arranged a 
 Roman pavement, and at the sides were stone 
 coffins and remnants of broken monuments, 
 the stern witnesses of that time when puritan 
 destructiveness swept with relentless fury the 
 churches and cathedrals of England, and 
 destroyed the records, the insignia, and the 
 monuments of the ancient faith ; when, as 
 Scott sings 
 
 " The reverend pile lay wild and waste, 
 Profaned, dishonoured, and defaced ; 
 The civil fury of the time 
 Made sport of sacrilegious crime ; 
 For dark fanaticism rent 
 Altar, and screen, and ornament." 
 
 The minster has double transepts, the length 
 of the central ones being 250 feet, and at
 
 128 
 
 each end is a splendid circular or rose window, 
 one being finer and larger than the "marigold" 
 window in the south transept at York. This 
 transept is longer than those of any other 
 English cathedral, with the exception of 
 Winchester, St. Paul's, and York. The screen 
 is comparatively a modern structure, with 
 the organ placed above it similar to York, but 
 the elevation is less and the organ smaller. 
 In the choir, a few ladies were seated in 
 the stalls waiting for the morning service, so 
 a rapid glance was taken and we passed out 
 beneath the central tower, and through the 
 storied nave to the south-west doorway of the 
 western front of the minster. The two western 
 towers have been built up internally, leaving 
 arched passages between, which detract from 
 the beauty and symmetry of the nave. 
 
 The west front, with its two magnificent 
 towers, is a compound of Norman and early 
 English architecture, the lower portion remind- 
 ing one of continental churches. It has three 
 doorways, not so elevated as York, and a 
 screen front and arcades, with a central 
 gable between the towers ornamented with 
 statues. It has also flanking turrets crowned 
 with figures on the north and south. Seen
 
 129 
 
 from the Exchequer gate, it impresses you 
 with the boldness of conception and grandeur 
 of design of Remegius and St. Hugh, who 
 planned and carried out this immense and 
 wonderful structure. 
 
 Before leaving this subject it may be as well 
 to give some idea of the extent of the minster 
 in comparison with York. Lincoln covers an 
 area of 56,630 feet ; York, 63,800 feet. Length 
 Lincoln, 493 feet; York, 519 feet. Height of 
 central tower at Lincoln, 265 feet ; York, 
 199 feet. Height of choir Lincoln, 82 feet ; 
 York, 101 feet. Width of choir Lincoln, 82 
 feet ; York, 101 feet. So that, on the whole,York 
 is better proportioned, according to its length, 
 than Lincoln ; yet the latter, in many of its fea- 
 tures, will vie with any cathedral in England. 
 
 Passing through the Exchequer Archway, we 
 found ourselves in front of the Norman gate of 
 the castle of William the Conqueror, which was 
 flanked by towers of great strength. The Lucy 
 toweror keep has been repaired andbattlemented, 
 and the royal flag floated in the breeze, in honour 
 of Her Majesty's Judges who were to arrive in 
 Lincoln to open the commission of assize the 
 same day. The castle formerly belonged to 
 the Duchy of Lancaster, but some years ago
 
 130 
 
 was purchased by the county magistrates from 
 the Crown, and is used for the assizes, and also 
 as a prison. It is in a bold and commanding 
 situation, and entirely dominates the city. 
 
 The castle stands upon the site of the 
 ancient Roman station, portions of the walls 
 of which have been found, and has been the 
 scene of many important events. In the reign 
 of Stephen, the Empress Maud was besieged 
 in it, and it has frequently been the resi- 
 dence of the Kings of England. Like all other 
 castles it stood a siege for King Charles, and 
 was eventually dismantled by order of the 
 Lord Protector's Parliament. 
 
 The old streets of Lincoln are exceedingly 
 narrow, and more especially those on the slopes 
 of the hill leading to the monster and castle. 
 Leaving the front of the judges' house, where 
 the royal arms are emblazoned, down Steep 
 Hill towards Stone Bow, we arrive in High- 
 street, the principal business street of Lincoln, 
 pausing momentarily to examine the ancient 
 gateway, the conduit, and an antique church, 
 entirely covered with ivy. 
 
 Our journey is resumed, and a fine full-length 
 south view of the minster is obtained, which is 
 long kept in sight. The railway runs alongside
 
 two streams of water for some miles, one of 
 which, the Witham, it accompanies from Lin- 
 coln to Boston, where the river discharges itself 
 into the sea. At Washingborough, which is a 
 snug village with a fine church, some amuse- 
 ment was caused by an eccentric bird frightener, 
 as though the birds were such greenhorns as 
 to believe in it. No agricultural operations 
 had been seen during the journey till now, when 
 turnip hoeing was the rule from here to Boston, 
 and some lads were raking hay out of the 
 river, which was highly banked to keep the 
 floods from the adjoining meadows. Shortly 
 something is seen in the distance standing 
 alone, having the appearance of a bare, stripped, 
 barkless tree, but which, on nearer acquaint- 
 ance, turned out to be a solitary relic of the 
 once fine Cistercian Abbey of Kirkstead. Tat- 
 tershall Castle is now seen, a wonderful square 
 tower, 100 feet high, built of red brick, with 
 octangular turrets at each corner. This castle 
 was erected by the Lord Treasurer Cromwell, 
 in the reign of Henry VII., where he lived in 
 great state, and founded a collegiate church 
 which is close by. The latter is a fine struc- 
 ture, having a lofty tower, transepts, aisle, and 
 choir, and contains many monuments and
 
 132 
 
 brasses of this family, which was not related 
 to the Lord Protector. This property now 
 belongs to Earl Fortescue. 
 
 We are nearly approaching the end of our 
 journey, and the names of the stations and 
 villages on the route are indicative of their 
 Danish origin, showing that this county, like 
 the East and parts of the North Riding of 
 Yorkshire, must have been overrun and colo- 
 nized by the Danes, prior to the Conquest. 
 The village churches also were remarkable for 
 their size and beauty of structure, the towers 
 being lofty, whilst not a single spire, which are 
 frequently met with further south, was seen. 
 
 We are now in Boston, an ancient borough, 
 whose population at the census of 1871 was 
 15,576. From its situation, it was doubtless 
 a British town before the Roman invasion, 
 and its first monastery was built by the Saxon, 
 St. Botolph, in 659, whence it was called 
 Botolph's town, and afterwards shortened to 
 Boston. Boston was one of the principal 
 seaports, its trade with Flanders and the Low 
 Countries being extensive, and early in the 
 thirteenth century almost equal to London, 
 as a tax, levied in 1204, produced 836 in 
 London, and 780 in Boston.
 
 133 
 
 The Lord Mayor and the Lady Mayoress of 
 York, and the Tourist Society, were met on 
 the station platform by the Deputy Mayor 
 (W. H. Bailes, Esq.), Mr. Bishop, Mr. Thomas, 
 and other Boston friends, and escorted to the 
 Assembly Rooms, where a semi-official recep- 
 tion was given, and a handsome entertainment 
 provided in one of its fine saloons, the ball 
 room and the council chamber being also 
 thrown open to their inspection. The rooms 
 were fitted in elegant style, with lofty mirrors 
 and fine chandeliers, and the painting of the 
 saloon was in excellent taste. Being joined 
 by Major White (the town clerk), the Rev. 
 G. B. Blenkin (the vicar), and their ladies, 
 some complimentary toasts were given and 
 responded to by the Lord Mayor and other 
 gentlemen of the company, when the vicar 
 invited our inspection of a church second to 
 none in England as regards size, beauty of 
 form, and the elegance and height of its lantern 
 tower. 
 
 A previous church of St. Botolph, on this 
 site was granted in logo by Alan Rufus, Earl 
 of Brittany, to the great Benedictine Abbey 
 of St. Mary's at York ; and the present church, 
 founded by Dame Margaret Tilney in 1309, was
 
 134 
 
 re-granted by charter to the Bishop of Lincoln, 
 in the reign of Edward IV, in the fifteenth 
 century. The church occupies an area of 
 20,270 feet, is 288 feet long, 99 feet broad, 
 and 62 feet high ; and the tower has a height 
 of 272 feet, which is 7 feet higher than the 
 central tower of Lincoln minster. It has a 
 peal of 8 bells, and 44 small bells, cast at 
 Louvain, for the chimes, which are played 
 every hour. There are in the church, 4 
 entrances, 12 pillars, 52 windows, and 365 steps 
 in the tower, indicating the 4 quarters, 12 
 months, 52 weeks, and 365 days that make up 
 the year. 
 
 The ancient doors at the south porch are 
 exquisitely carved, and co-eval with the build- 
 ing of the church, and the consecration cross 
 is chiselled on the stone lintel at the entrance.. 
 Immediately over the doorway, in the interior, 
 is a large painting, in three compartments, 
 copied from a picture by Rubens, now in the 
 cathedral at Antwerp. The central subject is 
 the " Descent from the cross," and on either 
 side are the " Salutation " and the " Presenta- 
 tion." A very beautiful font, the gift of 
 Mr. Beresford Hope, M.P., is placed on five 
 steps, at the lower part of the nave in front
 
 135 
 
 of the belfrey, and a handsome corona, by 
 Skidmore, of Coventry, hangs from the ceiling 
 above the font. The tower is open towards 
 the church, and has a fine groined ceiling, the 
 centre boss weighing five tons. 
 
 The Ladye chapel, which is in the south aisle, 
 has arched tombs by the wall, containing recum- 
 bent figures in alabaster, one of which is sup- 
 posed to be the foundress of the church, who was 
 connected with St. John's parish in York. An 
 elegant brass lectern stands in the body of 
 the church, in front of the chancel arch, and 
 the pulpit of old John Cotton, the pilgrim 
 father, who, during the reigns of Charles 
 and James, was the vicar, has been worthily 
 restored, and placed beneath one of the arches 
 on the south side of the nave. Cotton, owing 
 to the unsettled state of religion in those 
 troublous times, emigrated, along with others 
 of similar opinions, to Massachussets, founded 
 and was pastor and teacher of the first church 
 in Boston, which to this day retains his 
 name as the " Cotton church " in that city. 
 When this church was restored in 1853, -by 
 Sir Gilbert Scott, Cotton's descendants, and 
 other inhabitants of Boston, U.S.A., collected 
 the sum of 673 towards the restoration of
 
 136 
 
 the south-west chapel, and placed a memorial 
 brass, with a Latin inscription written by the 
 American statesman, the Hon. Edward Everett, 
 in commemoration of it, upon the walls of the 
 chapel. 
 
 The chancel has been restored with fine 
 canopy work over the stalls, but the ancient 
 carved seats of the fourteenth century have 
 been preserved,; numbering fifty-eight different 
 designs. Amongst them are the following 
 comicalities, viz : the fox running away with 
 the goose ; a bear blowing the bellows whilst 
 the hog is playing the organ ; St. George 
 impaling the dragon ; a schoolmaster birching 
 a boy on his knees ; a man shooting a stag, and 
 an old lady beating him with a distaff ; a hare, 
 with a pastoral staff, preaching to sly reynard 
 the fox ; and numerous others as characteristic 
 and satirical as those named. The chancel is 
 raised, and the altar is approached by flights 
 of steps, and enclosed by rails of fine design, of 
 about the year 1662. There is a tesselated 
 pavement inside, and on the north of the altar, 
 level with the floor, are two fine brasses of Walter 
 Peascod and one Hall, a councillor of Boston. 
 They have canopies and scrolls round the 
 border, with names and symbols within the
 
 137 
 
 halo. On the south side is another, supposed 
 to be of a vicar prior to the reformation, with 
 name and canopy gone. An ancient piscina, and 
 ambra, with modern sedilia, are also seen on the 
 south side of the chancel, and three niches on the 
 north which are used as credence tables. The 
 east window has been filled with stained glass 
 representing the tree of Jesse down to Joseph. 
 
 Near the south-west chapel are many ancient 
 gravestones, some having had brasses, which 
 have been removed. One, very distinctly traced, 
 shewed a man with four wives, and below them 
 had been inscriptions relating to their respective 
 children. On an oak slab, affixed to the wall 
 by the south porch, the following curious 
 inscription appeared, which we give verbatim 
 et literatim : 
 
 " My Corps with Kings ce Monarchs sleeps in bedd, 
 My Soule with sight of Christ in Heaven is fedd. 
 This lumpe that lampe shall meete and shine more 
 
 bright 
 
 Then Phoebus, when Hee streames his clearest light. 
 
 Death's Head and Omnes Sic Ibant. Sic Imus, Ibitis, 
 
 Ibunt. Eich. Smith, Obit. Ano Salutis, 1626. 
 
 Over the south porch is a valuable library 
 of 1,000 volumes, of ancient and standard 
 books, principally of divinity; it also contains
 
 138 
 
 the registers of the parish, which are perfect 
 from 1558. A black letter prayer book was 
 shown dated March, 1549, reign of Edward 
 VI. , printed by Edward Whitchurch. Also 
 Chaucer's Canterbury tales (Chaucer being a 
 Lincolnshire man) and a manuscript with 
 coloured letter illuminations of the eleventh 
 century, of St. Augustine on the book of Genesis, 
 Amongst the registers written in fine legible 
 characters was "John Cotton, married to 
 Sarah Story, 25th April, 1632," He left 
 England, in the Mayflower, for America the 
 same year. 
 
 Whilst we were otherwise employed, several 
 of the tourists ascended the tower and reported 
 a magnificent prospect from its summit. 
 Formerly a lantern was lit every evening, which 
 warned the mariner at sea, and guided the 
 belated traveller on land to his home and rest. 
 
 Crossing the Market-place to " Shod Friars' 
 Hall," an ancient rafter building restored by 
 Mr. Jno. Scott, the son of Sir Gilbert, we were 
 much pleased at the way the restoration was 
 carried out. The principal room is gained by a 
 wide staircase, covered with designs of Gothic 
 buildings by Sir Gilbert Scott. The room is pan- 
 eled and has a carved mantelpiece, with delf ware
 
 139 
 
 of antique design placed beneath it. The upper 
 floor had been partly taken out, forming a 
 surrounding gallery above. This hall is occu- 
 pied as a conservative club, and portraits of 
 the Premier, Lord Derby, and other statesmen 
 were exhibited on the walls. Behind, and in 
 connection with it, a fine modern Gothic concert 
 hall has been built, and a tourist gay tried its 
 encoustic properties by singing a national song 
 upon the stage, for which he was of course 
 appropriately applauded. 
 
 Proceeding again through the Market-place, 
 past the colossal statue of Mr. Ingram, a 
 former member for the borough, and well-known 
 as the proprietor of the Illustrated London News, 
 we were requested to pay a visit to the residence 
 of Major Hopkins, J.P., on the green through 
 West Bar Gate, opposite two Sebastopol guns 
 curiously pointing towards the market-place, 
 instead of the enemy outside the borough. We 
 were most courteously received and entertained 
 by the genial owner, who showed us his fine 
 collection of paintings, amongst which were 
 examples of Rembrandt, Ruysdael, Van Valen, 
 Cuyp, Zuccherelli, and Wouvermans; also some 
 corporation plate about the year 1600, consist- 
 ing of silver gilt cups, salts, salvers, etc., and
 
 140 
 
 a modern salver of 1831, presented by a town 
 clerk to the corporation at that time. A 
 curious tale was told of the meanness of the 
 council elected after the passing of the 
 Municipal Corporations Act of 1835, who sold 
 and disposed of their plate and all the badges 
 and insignia of office. The maces went abroad 
 and were melted up, the silver sculls, emblem- 
 atic of the former admiralty jurisdiction of the 
 council over Boston Deeps, passed into the 
 possession of a noble family, the remainder 
 were dispersed by auction, and so those shown 
 came into the possession of our host. So 
 much for the loyalty and decency of a reformed 
 corporation. 
 
 After visiting the exquisite gardens which 
 are laid out in the best taste, the colours 
 blending gracefully and harmoniously together, 
 Major White, the town clerk, induced us to 
 visit his house and grounds, which were nearly 
 opposite on the other side of the green. The 
 pleasing courtesy and gracious bearing of the 
 town clerk impressed his visitors, and one of 
 the pleasurable recollections, in connection with 
 our visit, will be to recall the bland manner 
 and courtly conduct of this high-minded and 
 honourable gentleman.
 
 As dinner had been ordered at the Peacock 
 Hotel for four o'clock, and it was now con- 
 siderably past that hour, we hasted to that 
 comfortable hostelry to join the ladies and 
 gentlemen of Boston who had been invited to 
 dine with us. Need we say the house sustained 
 its reputation by providing a sumptuous repast, 
 with the best of wines, and reasonable charges, 
 and not a la Middlesmoor, as recorded by 
 the historian of that expedition. And so with 
 the satisfaction of meeting with kind friends 
 and hospitable entertainers, on qur visit to the 
 grand minster of Lincoln and the beautiful 
 church of Boston, we say good-bye, and give 
 our benediction as we leave the one, and 
 pass the other with the golden setting sun- 
 light streaming through its storied windows,, 
 gilding each pinnacle with a glorious halo> 
 so that the recollection haunts us at the 
 station at York on our arrival, when we 
 congratulate one another upon the pleasant 
 day we have had in the ancient city of Lincoln 
 and the borough overlooking Boston Deeps. 
 
 July 26th, 1875.
 
 No. 9. 
 
 excursion to the pleasant sea-side 
 r 
 
 town of Saltburn took place on Tuesday 
 last, when a large party of ladies and gentle- 
 men visited the beautiful scenery of wood and 
 water, crag and fell, with which this far- 
 famed and rapidly increasing watering place is 
 surrounded. 
 
 As this was pre-eminently the "ladies' day," 
 the weather was all that could be desired, a 
 bright sun being tempered by fleecy clouds, 
 and the fragrant balmy breezes of autumn just 
 ruffled the bosom of the mighty deep, and 
 awoke the strange yEolian strains that mys- 
 teriously soothe and tranquilize the heart's 
 emotions on the shores of the ever heaving 
 sea. 
 
 The usual liberality of the North Eastern 
 Railway Company was again exhibited, by 
 providing handsome saloon and first-class
 
 143 
 
 carriages for the accommodation of the tourists, 
 who took their departure by the nine o'clock 
 train to the north, which was heavily freighted 
 with sporting people journeying to the races 
 at the romantic town of Richmond. At Thirsk 
 we join the Leeds train bound to Stockton 
 and Middlesboro', and cross the Tees at the 
 old-fashioned town of Yarm into the county 
 of Durham, where a few miles further, in the 
 vicinity of South Stockton, we again return 
 to the Yorkshire side of the Tees. 
 
 On our route hitherto, we have passed 
 through the fine and fruitful vale of York, 
 where the pursuits of agriculture are predomin- 
 ant, and the harvest is progressing and being 
 safely secured. From this land of pleasant 
 pastures, and of fields lately waving with the 
 golden corn, we are suddenly transported to 
 the Cleveland region, where a wonderful industry 
 has sprung up at Stockton, Middlesboro', and 
 Eston, which has changed entirely the material 
 and moral aspect of the country. Within the 
 bowels of the Cleveland Hills, mines of mineral 
 wealth, surpassing the El Dorados of romance, 
 are found. The black diamonds of Durham 
 and the ironstone of Yorkshire are the two 
 substances from which boundless wealth is
 
 144 
 
 secured, and their products, steel and iron, 
 have been and still are aids and influences 
 in civilizing and benefiting the human race, 
 and in controlling the destinies of the world. 
 
 From Stockton to Redcar, the railway runs 
 in sight of the tidal water of the Tees, which 
 gradually opens into an estuary, several miles 
 broad, with the town of Seaton Carew visible 
 at its northern extremity. The docks at 
 Middlesboro' are crowded with shipping, and 
 blast furnaces are seen on all sides in active 
 operation. The mountains of refuse and slag 
 are being gradually utilised, in the formation 
 of groins and sea walls for the recovery 
 of thousands of acres of mud and waste from 
 the wide-spreading Tees. The slopes of the 
 hills have lost their rural aspect, as tall 
 chimneys and long lines of houses have sup- 
 planted the husbandman, and the whole 
 district is changed by the clang of the steam 
 hammer, the roar of the furnaces, and the 
 shrill shrieks of the steam engine. 
 
 Skirting the low sandy hills near Coatham, 
 Redcar is at length reached, and appears to 
 share in the prosperity of the neighbouring 
 towns. New handsome houses are seen in 
 all directions, quite in contrast with the old
 
 145 
 
 red-brick and tile structures of the ancient 
 town. On passing out of the station, the masts 
 of a schooner were seen high and dry on the 
 shore, peeping over the low sandy beach south 
 of the pier. Some months ago, during stormy 
 weather, this erratic vessel, was driven through, 
 by the tempestuous winds, and destroyed a 
 considerable portion of the pier. 
 
 Our journey is nearly ended, and the line 
 ascends along the coast to the bolder cliffs of 
 Marske, where the old hall is seen within 
 its belt of trees, in grave contrast to the new 
 world around it. Kirkleatham, with its woods 
 and hills, is on the right, and Skelton Castle, 
 the ancient fortified mansion of the Faucon- 
 bergs, lies further inland, up the slope of 
 the Saltburn valley ; whilst Saltburn rises 
 proudly before us on the beetling cliff, near 
 the extremity of the wooded ravine, whose 
 natural beauties are unsurpassed upon this 
 rock-bound coast. 
 
 Saltburn, which twenty years ago was 
 merely known as a small fishing village, has, 
 through the enterprise of the Peases and other 
 gentlemen associated with them, become quite 
 a town, with first-class hotels, shops, and hand- 
 some mansions and houses. It possesses a 
 
 L
 
 146 
 
 fine open pier extending a considerable distance 
 into the sea, which is a source of attraction 
 to the visitors, as Marske and the Redcar 
 pier are distinctly visible from it. In order to 
 assist the visitor to reach the sands and pier, 
 and vice versa, a hoist has been erected, which 
 however, for want of water, was not in use at 
 the time of our visit. The sands are wonder- 
 fully firm, and, from the gentle slope, at 
 low water extend a long way seaward. The 
 walk to Redcar, by the sands, is very 
 pleasing, especially when a breeze is on, 
 as the long white bank of foam spreads for 
 miles along thecoast, and makes a charming 
 picture. 
 
 However fine the sands may be, the great 
 charm of Saltburn will always consist in the 
 beautiful gardens formed in the grand ravine, 
 where, through deep clustering woods and 
 rock and glen, the Saltburn beck glides gently 
 on, to its own sweet murmuring music, to the 
 sea. Art has taken advantage of nature, and 
 fashioned the slopes into winding walks, 
 where rustic bridges, Tuscan temples, lovers' 
 arbours, and sylvan glades, grace the scene, 
 whilst the Italian garden, enclosed by terraces 
 of the loveliest verdure, is exquisite in design,
 
 147 
 
 and perfection itself in its varied forms of 
 floral beauty. 
 
 Reclining here beneath the spreading shade, 
 listening to the twittering of the song birds, 
 the merry laugh of a fair croquet party 
 close at hand, the plashing of the fountain, 
 and the rushing of the waterfall, with the 
 distant strains of music stealing gently on the 
 ear, these, combined with the temples and 
 the various groups gracefully scattered over 
 the velvet lawn, all recalled the Epicurean 
 scenes of Moore, or some Italian picture 
 of Turner's, of the elysian days of old, 
 and exhibited a veritable Eden in the wilder- 
 ness of life. 
 
 At the extremity of the enclosure, where 
 the stream has forced its way between the per- 
 pendicular rocks, now moss-grown with age, 
 and where ferns and creepers peep out along 
 the ledges, there stands a solitary fountain, 
 in which, 'tis said, "rare virtue lies." As the 
 rock-like obelisk discharges the liquid stream, 
 the attached horns are filled and quaffed by the 
 visitors, who find the taste metallic with a 
 slight hydrogenous gaseous odour. Though 
 this is not a saintly well like St. Ronan's, nor 
 yet hallowed as that from which the faithful
 
 148 
 
 Clara endeavoured to cool the parched lips 
 of the dying Marmion, where it bore the 
 inscription 
 
 "Drink weary pilgrim, drink, and pray, 
 For the kind soul of Sybil Gray, 
 Who built this cross and well."* 
 
 yet would faith in this be equally as efficacious 
 in effecting cures as marvellous, as monkish 
 legends tell us of many a far-famed holy well 
 of old. 
 
 In endeavouring to add to the beauty of the 
 glen, and the convenience of visitors, a hand- 
 some iron bridge has been carried over the 
 valley, at an immense elevation, at the expense 
 of Mr. Wharton, of Skelton Castle, a small 
 toll being levied upon those who pass over it. 
 From the centre of the bridge, a grand view 
 seaward is obtained, but the most pleasing is 
 that looking up the ravine, over the woods 
 and gardens, where the modern Tudor mansion 
 of Mr. Bell (the great iron master, and brother 
 of the lately-elected member for the Hartle- 
 pools), fills up the vista of an exceedingly fine 
 and noble landscape. 
 
 * Scott's "Marmion," 30th Stanza, 6th Canto.
 
 i 4 9 
 
 On visiting Saltburn, the splendid Zetland 
 Hotel was made the headquarters of the party, 
 and every accommodation was found within its 
 ample and highly-decorated saloons. The pro- 
 vision made for the entertainment of its tem- 
 porary guests was most excellent, and gave 
 every satisfaction to the ladies and gentlemen 
 present. During the day the various places of 
 interest were visited that have been previously 
 named, and when the time for leaving Saltburn 
 arrived, it was fully acknowledged that it was 
 one of the finest days, and one of the most 
 pleasurable excursions undertaken by the York 
 Tourist Society. 
 
 The story of this excursion naturally ends 
 here, though a strong imagination might easily 
 describe in a truthful and interesting manner 
 the scenery on the route homeward, after the 
 shades of evening had settled on the earth. 
 However tempting it might be to relate at con- 
 siderable length how the glow of the furnaces 
 cast a lurid, unearthly light through the dark 
 robes of night, quite eclipsing the modest 
 crescent of the moon, which ultimately felt 
 ashamed and retired early to rest, we con- 
 siderately refrain ; yet, as an adventure occurred, 
 and all the world knows or wants to know
 
 150 
 
 everything relating to this society, its veracious 
 chronicler must still go on and tell his plain, 
 unvarnished tale. 
 
 Now the adventure was in this wise : As the 
 saloon would not accommodate the whole party, 
 six gentlemen, men of business and fathers of 
 families, were in a first-class compartment, and 
 amongst other matters of interest, got into a 
 discussion as to Friar Bacon,* the alchemist, 
 and the possibility of transmuting metals into 
 gold. Discussions of this kind of course are 
 interminable until practical experiments are 
 resorted to in order to end the matter. In the 
 midst of the argument and illustration one 
 gentleman thought the train had arrived at 
 Yarm or Picton Junction, but another said no, 
 and putting his head out of the window pro- 
 nounced they were at Fighting Cocks Station, 
 on the way to Darlington instead of York, and a 
 red-coated guard coming up also comforted them 
 by an assurance that there would be no train 
 onward until after the witching hour of night. 
 The dismay of the tourists may be imagined, but 
 not described. However, at Darlington Old 
 
 * I should say it was the whist-playing party again, and 
 that the above account is all fudge. P.D.
 
 Station they at length arrived, and ultimately 
 were forwarded to Bank Top, and as fortune 
 would have it, a fish train made its appearance, 
 and the station-master consenting they should 
 travel by it, procured a bench for the four 
 penitents, the two victims of the transmutation 
 process being installed as extra guards for this 
 occasion only, duly arrived at York only 
 half-an-hour later than the train they should 
 have come by. The experience gained by one 
 of the guards as to telegraphing, signals, breaks, 
 and block cabins, being of such a nature, that 
 he intends publishing a book on the subject very 
 shortly. We conclude with the motto, " All's 
 well that ends well." 
 
 September, 1875.
 
 No. 10. 
 . fl?islJ jfarce anti BarnatiJ Castle. 
 
 the varied programme of the proposed 
 excursions of the York Tourist Society 
 issued in the spring of this year, perhaps none 
 were more interesting, or gave promise of 
 greater pleasure, than the contemplated visit 
 to the cataract of High Force and the ancient 
 town and fortress of Barnard Castle, situate 
 amidst the beautiful and romantic scenery of 
 the valley of the Tees, where legend and 
 romance combined have thrown a glorious 
 halo over each wooded stream and shady dell, 
 whilst the immortal genius of Scott has, in 
 imperishable verse, enshrined the glories of 
 Rokeby and the " Greta's water's wild." 
 
 As this was the last excursion of the present 
 year, the members of the society mustered in 
 great force on the platform of the York station, 
 on Wednesday, the 6th instant, to depart by 
 the 9 a.m. train for Darlington ; a handsome
 
 153 
 
 saloon and a first-class carriage being liberally 
 provided by the North Eastern Railway Com- 
 pany for their accommodation. The morning 
 was bright and cheerful, with a crisp October 
 air, reminding one that summer had passed, 
 that the harvest was over, and the short, dark 
 days of winter would soon be upon us. A mar- 
 vellous change had come over the landscape 
 since our journey northward to Saltburn but a 
 month before. Then, the fields were covered 
 with the sheaves of corn, whilst here and 
 there were crops still waiting for the reaper ; 
 now, excepting a few fields of beans, all 
 were garnered, the stacks were thatched and 
 trim about the homesteads, and the plough 
 was again busy in preparing the land for 
 a future harvest. 
 
 A short stay was made at Darlington, whose 
 large foundries and ironworks attracted atten- 
 tion, and where the previous week the railway 
 world had celebrated its jubilee in a successful 
 manner. The hero of the hour, and the herald 
 of a mighty revolution, the famous No. i engine 
 that George Stephenson built for the Stockton 
 and Darlington Railway Company to travel at 
 the rate of eight miles an hour, was again in its 
 position, all smart and bright, and inspected by
 
 154 
 
 the tourists. The line from Darlington to 
 Barnard Castle runs through the county of 
 Durham amidst very pleasing scenery, every 
 now and then approaching the fine, wooded 
 banks of the Tees, which it crosses, after passing 
 Barnard Castle, by a handsome viaduct and 
 bridge, into the North Riding of Yorkshire, 
 and thence proceeds up the slopes of the valley 
 to Middleton-in-Teesdale, where the branch line 
 ends. 
 
 Hitherto the weather had been fine, but 
 shortly before reaching Middleton, dark, driving 
 clouds obscured the sun, and rain fell. As the 
 carriages were waiting at the station, they 
 were quickly mounted and driven off amidst 
 the pelting shower, through Middleton, by the 
 road to Newbiggin and High Force. Over- 
 coats, comforters, and umbrellas were called 
 into requisition, though the latter were almost 
 unmanageable in the fury of the gale. Some 
 scores of children leaving school at Middleton 
 cheered lustily as we passed, and a brilliant 
 rainbow in the north, over the valley of Wear- 
 dale, added some rays of hope and consolation 
 to the otherwise cheerless aspect of the weather. 
 The windings of the Tees, now through gentle 
 slopes, and anon fenced in by bold and rugged
 
 155 
 
 cliffs, grey and weather-beaten by age, and 
 the Yorkshire moors all brown with autumn's 
 tints, stretching to the dim horizon, are barely 
 noticed through the driving mist and scud and 
 rain, and the travellers are more concerned to- 
 reach the High Force Hotel, than to linger 
 over the romantic and rugged scenery spread 
 before us. 
 
 The haven of rest is at last reached, and the 
 carriages are immediately relinquished by the 
 wet and starving tourists, who are ushered into 
 a commodious room, where an excellent lun- 
 cheon awaited their arrival. The mountain 
 air proving an excellent sharpener of appetite, 
 the fullest justice was done to it in an amaz- 
 ingly short period of time. When nature cried 
 enough, the weather was again braved, in the 
 determination to visit one of the most remark- 
 able and interesting scenes in England 
 
 " Where Tees in tumult leaves his source, 
 Thundering o'er Cauldron and High Force."* 
 
 The river Tees rises westward, near the 
 skirts of Crossfell, increasing its volume from 
 many becks and streams, on its way to the 
 
 * Scott's " Eokeby."
 
 156 
 
 cataracts of Cauldron Snout and High Force, 
 the former being some five or six miles above 
 the latter. Above the Snout it spreads itself into 
 a small lake and dashing over a cliff 200 feet in 
 height, forms a succession of rapids of a grand 
 character. Thence winding its way over a floor 
 of limestone rock, broken, scarred, and worn by 
 the continual action of the water, it passes the 
 lofty precipice of Cronkley Scar, and pours its 
 resistless tide down the miniature Niagara of 
 High Force 
 
 " Where the rock is rent in two, 
 And the river rushes through." * 
 
 Travelling from Middleton to High Force, 
 the valley gradually narrows as we ascend to 
 the edge of the moors, which on the Yorkshire 
 side extend towards Mickle Fell, which is the 
 highest mountain in Yorkshire, and 2,600 
 feet above the sea. The contraction on the 
 Durham side is more gradual, until within a 
 short distance of High Force, which rises like a 
 lofty barrier to bar further progress up the stream. 
 The waterfall is gained by a winding walk from 
 opposite the hotel, through wooded slopes of 
 
 Rogers' " Boy of Egremond."
 
 magnificent firs and pines, past galleries of over- 
 hanging rock, showing the basaltic character of 
 the strata, with the limestone above, and the 
 shale below. The descent to the river is most 
 difficult owing to the wet ; and climbing the 
 rocky bed, to obtain the best view of the water- 
 fall, was attended by some risk and trouble. 
 
 The High Force is about seventy feet high, 
 and the river rushes down with a mighty roar 
 into the pool below, the spray rising like a 
 cloud, and enveloping the falling water. In 
 high flood there is a second channel, and its 
 effect must then be greatly heigthened, and 
 its grandeur increased. Standing on the rocks 
 above the fall, with the river rushing around 
 and about you in its various channels, and 
 again uniting, bounding, and leaping through 
 the narrow chasm, gradually worn by ages of 
 continual strife and ceaseless motion, the scene 
 is at once striking and impressive. Above the 
 fall the scattered rocks and sloping shore ; 
 below the wooded heights, and the perpen- 
 dicular cliffs, all seem to speak of a time when 
 some upheaval or grand convulsion of nature 
 split and overthrew them, and made a passage 
 for the fountains of the deep ; and yet we know 
 that storm, and flood, and tempest, have all
 
 158 
 
 contributed their resistless forces in effecting 
 those stupendous changes which will still con- 
 tinue increasing in operation and development 
 until the end of time. 
 
 The greater part of the land and moors on 
 the Yorkshire side of the Tees, between Barnard 
 Castle and High Force, is the property of 
 Mr. Bowes, of Streatlam Castle, whilst the 
 Durham side belongs to the Duke of Cleveland, 
 whose cottages and farm-houses are distin- 
 guished by their beautiful white appearance, 
 being washed with lime. The High Force 
 Hotel, which is a commodious house with every 
 convenience for carriages and horses, is also 
 bedecked in the same colour, and belongs to 
 the noble owner of Raby Castle. Some few 
 years ago, the Prince of Wales stayed there, 
 as the guest of General Hall, for grouse shoot- 
 ing over the neighbouring moors. The views 
 from the hotel are exceedingly fine, the water- 
 fall being well seen from the upper windows ; 
 and during the summer months it is a great 
 resort for tourists and artists, who come in 
 considerable numbers to visit the grand scenery 
 of the upper waters of Teesdale. 
 
 As we have a drive before us of sixteen 
 miles to Barnard Castle, our captain gives the
 
 159 
 
 order to depart. Rain and wind still continue, 
 but we have not to face it as on our journey 
 upward to High Force. About a mile below, 
 Winch Bridge is visited, which is a remarkable 
 suspension bridge, said to be the first of its 
 kind in Europe. Passing over to the right 
 bank of the Tees, we look upon a new feature 
 in the Lower Force, where the river rushes 
 through a narrow gorge, and forms a succession 
 of impetuous rapids and whirlpools, which are 
 very striking. 
 
 Our visit to Winch Bridge was accomplished 
 tinder signal disadvantages, but the true tourist 
 cares not for wind or weather in carrying out 
 the programme set before him. He never 
 beats a hasty retreat when there is anything 
 of a novel or interesting kind to see ; he never 
 leaves his companions in the lurch, nor orders 
 dinner on the table before their arrival ; but 
 on he goes, buttoning up his coat against the 
 bitter blast, taking his punishment philosophic- 
 ally, and if his umbrella is turned inside out,* 
 and silk and whalebone and wires are com- 
 pulsorily divorced, and they become for a 
 moment an extemporised parachute or balloon, 
 
 * Literally true of one of the tourists' umbrellas.
 
 i6o 
 
 why he makes the remnant into a walking 
 stick, and trudges laughingly away, leaving 
 the wreck in the hands of a good-natured 
 countryman, who grins, but scarcely knows 
 what to make of his precious prize. 
 
 The carriages are again in motion, and are 
 rapidly descending the capital road by New- 
 biggin to Middleton. The leaden clouds break, 
 the sun peeps out, and the rainbow is seen in 
 much the same position as on our journey 
 upwards to the High Force. Providence is 
 kind the bow is in the cloud a presage of the 
 discontinuance of rain, and a return of fine 
 weather, which, on reaching Middleton and 
 crossing the Tees, was at once realised. For 
 has not the poet sung 
 
 " Stretch forth thy bright ethereal braid on high, 
 Fair daughter of the sun thy tresses wave ; 
 And as thine eyes the sparkling waters lave, 
 Smile through thy tears, and fill the world with joy."* 
 
 A considerable population has arisen in upper 
 Teesdale in connection with lead mining and 
 quarrying, the London Lead Mining Com- 
 pany employing numerous workmen. The 
 
 * Sonnet, "The Rainbow."
 
 Whinstone quarries, of Messrs. Ord and Maddi- 
 son, opposite the Middleton station, were in full 
 swing; blasting being the mode adopted in 
 removing the rock which crops to the surface, 
 and is consequently easy to work. The houses 
 are built of rough stone, and are mostly modern ; 
 but quaint, thatched, angular, picturesque 
 dwellings were met with here and there, look- 
 ing odd, and ancient, and old worldly, amongst 
 their square, precise, and formal younger 
 brethren. Being market day at Barnard 
 Castle, sundry conveyances were met with on 
 the road, returning homeward at rather an 
 early hour. Darby and Joan, seated on a grey 
 pony, jogged lovingly together, whilst a party 
 of six grown-up-people, some seated on chairs, 
 were travelling merrily along in an ordinary 
 heavy country cart. The bright, sunny after- 
 noon, the pleasant undulating landscape, the 
 gentle knolls, the rushing streams, the shady 
 dells, had an exhilarating effect upon the 
 travellers, and joke, and laugh, and pun, and 
 repartee went on increasing, and was quite 
 a contrast to the serious, grave, and anxious 
 tourists of the morning. 
 
 The route to Barnard Castle lay on the 
 Yorkshire side of the Tees, by Romaldkirk, 
 M
 
 Cotherstone, and Lartington, whilst the splen- 
 did panorama of Marwood Chase, and the 
 grand perpendicular grey cliffs of Percy Myre, 
 were seen on the opposite bank of the river. 
 Legend states that one of the Lords Fitzhugh, 
 whilst hunting in Marwood Chase, lost his 
 way, and, darkness coming on, horse and rider 
 fell over the cliff, some 200 or 300 feet, and 
 were killed. The Fitzhughs possessed the 
 neighbouring Castle of Cotherstone, built on 
 a steep promontory overlooking the junction 
 of the Balder and the Tees, though nothing 
 but a small portion of the wall, above the fosse, 
 and a part of the keep indicate its position. 
 The burial place of this family was at Eglistone, 
 or Athelstan Abbey, near Rokeby, where Sir 
 Walter Scott lays the closing scene of his 
 romantic poem, in which those well-known 
 lines occur, that are so descriptive of the 
 unsettled times of the Reformation, and the 
 dark days of the Stuarts : 
 
 " The reverend pile lay wild and waste, 
 Profaned, dishonoured, and defaced ; 
 Through storied lattices no more 
 In softened light the sunbeams pour, 
 Gilding the Gothic sculpture rich 
 Of shrine, and monument and niche.
 
 163 
 
 The civil fury of the time 
 
 Made sport of sacrilegious crime ; 
 
 For dark fanaticism rent 
 
 Altar, and screen, and ornament ; 
 
 And peasant hands the tomhs o'erthrew 
 
 Of Bowes, of Bokeby, and Fitz Hugh."* 
 
 On arriving at Romaldkirk, the tourists were 
 struck with the appearance of the church, and, 
 desiring a closer inspection, pulled up at the 
 hostelry of the Rose and Crown, and so eased 
 the horses for a few minutes after the long 
 drive from High Force Hotel. The church 
 is in the early English style, with considerable 
 relics of the Norman, and possesses a fine 
 tower, which, together with the church, is 
 battlemented. It is also cruciform, having 
 nave, transepts, and choir. In the interior is 
 an ancient monument of a crusader in chain 
 armour, to the memory of one of the Lords 
 Fitzhugh. 
 
 The village is large and in a pleasant 
 situation, and has the advantage of a green and 
 a maypole; but whether there is a "Queen of 
 the May," with the sports of the olden time 
 on the anniversary of " Sweet May-day," was 
 
 * Scott's "Kokeby," 27th Stanza, 6th Canto.
 
 164 
 
 not ascertained, but this is known, that one of 
 our adventurous tourists, charmed with the 
 " Cotherstone cheese " placed before us at 
 High Force, and desiring to possess one like 
 it, entered a "drapery" establishment to 
 inquire of a spirited dame if " Cotherstone 
 cheeses " were sold there. The lady doubtless 
 thought a practical joke was intended, and 
 drawing herself up in a dignified manner, 
 repudiated the suggestion, but at the same 
 time said Romaldkirk cheeses were sold at 
 that town, and they were better than the 
 Cotherstone ones. Our tourist, seeing that 
 the lady was in earnest in her indignation, 
 beat a hasty retreat, and vows the next time 
 he goes to Romaldkirk, nothing shall again 
 induce him to inquire if Cotherstone cheeses 
 are sold in that ilk. 
 
 Our journey is again continued, and the 
 lovely wooded stream of " Balder, named from 
 Odin's son," is passed, Cotherstone and Lar- 
 tington, with its ancient hall, are shortly left 
 behind, and " Romantic Deepdale's slender rill" 
 crosses the road, and pays her tribute to the 
 Tees. Through the waving woodland, the 
 lofty towers of Barnard are seen gleaming with 
 the golden sunlight, standing out boldly and
 
 majestically on the precipitous rock overhanging 
 the Tees. The approach from the Yorkshire side 
 is wonderfully grand, and impresses the beholder 
 with the strength and bold situation of the 
 fortress that played so important a part in the 
 wars of the middle ages, and in the incursions 
 and forays of the Scots. 
 
 Passing over the fine Gothic bridge that 
 spans the Tees, the road is one continual steep 
 ascent to the Market Place, where the principal 
 inn, the famed " King's Head," is the house of 
 entertainment for the pilgrim tourists. Arrived 
 within its hospitable walls, dinner was at once 
 served in the usual excellent style in which the 
 worthy host had provided for the society on two 
 previous occasions. The " King's Head " is 
 noteworthy as the hotel at which Dickens stayed 
 when a travelling tourist in these parts, as in 
 the neighbourhood of Barnard Castle he found 
 out the original of the Dotheboys Hall, and 
 Humphrey's, the clockmaker's sign, opposite 
 the hotel, gave him the idea of " Master 
 Humphrey's Clock." So also, in " Nicholas 
 Nickleby," Newman Noggs says, if you will go 
 to the King's Head at Barnard Castle, and name 
 his name, you will get a glass of good ale for 
 nothing.
 
 i66 
 
 Dinner being despatched, there was no time 
 for a stroll through the streets to inspect the 
 ancient town, or the grand museum, which the 
 princely liberality of Mr. Bowes is bestowing 
 upon Barnard Castle. But being determined 
 to renew our acquaintance with the interior of 
 the castle, a hurried visit was made through the 
 inn yard, where a short walk brought us to 
 Baliol's Tower, which is the only place of 
 importance existing in a state of semi-preser- 
 vation. This magnificent castle was founded 
 in the twelfth century by Barnard Baliol, an 
 ancestor of the kings of Scotland of that name, 
 and has seen many vicissitudes of fortune and 
 of owners. The Beauchamps, the Staffords, 
 the Nevilles, the Somersets, and the Vanes, 
 have successively been owners by grants from 
 the Crown ; and it is in possession of the latter 
 family at the present time. This grand fortress 
 stood upon nearly seven acres of ground, and 
 even in Leland's time must have retained some 
 of its original features of strength and solidity, 
 as he says, " Barnard Castle standeth stately 
 upon Tees." A great part of the walls, portions 
 of the chapel, and Brackenbury's Tower, sup- 
 posed to have been a prison, a fine oriel, and 
 other windows close to Baliol's Tower, and the
 
 167 
 
 latter, constitute what is left of the once favourite 
 residence of King Richard III., who restored 
 and enlarged it. Traces of inner moats and 
 walls are found, but the greater part of the site 
 is let off, and divided into gardens, attached to 
 the houses in the High Street and the Market 
 Place, adjoining thereto. 
 
 Proceeding up the winding stair in the thick- 
 ness of the wall to the summit of the tower, a 
 most magnificent prospect of the wooded valley 
 of the Tees is obtained, extending in the direction 
 of our journey from High Force in the afternoon. 
 Who can describe in appropriate language the 
 beauty of the scene, lit up with the rays of the 
 declining sun, over woods which the shades of 
 autumn have enriched beyond their summer 
 verdure, with the bright glancing river, reflect- 
 ing and mirroring its goodly setting of gray 
 rocks and shady thickets, as it glides along, to 
 mingle its waters with the boisterous Greta, on 
 its long journey to the distant sea. 
 
 No description can be perfect, or bring home 
 to the mind the various beauties of this charm- 
 ing district, unless it is embodied in the 
 language of the master of romantic poetry ; for 
 nowhere can we turn for an illustration con- 
 veying so just a conception of its natural
 
 1 68 
 
 beauties, as in Sir Walter Scott's poem of 
 Rokeby, when 
 
 " Far in the chambers of the west 
 The gale had sighed herself to rest ; 
 While as a livelier twilight falls 
 Emerged proud Barnard's hanner'd walls, 
 High crown'd he sits in dawning pale, 
 The sovereign of the lovely vale."* 
 
 And where upon returning day, the warder, 
 on Brackenbury's Tower, is supposed to view 
 a scene only surpassed by " Roslin's Magic 
 Glade." 
 
 ' : What prospects from his watch-tower high 
 Gleam gradual on the warder's eye ! 
 Far sweeping to the east he sees 
 Down his deep woods the course of Tees, 
 And tracks his wanderings by the steam 
 Of summer vapours from the stream ; 
 And 'ere he pace his destined hour 
 By Brackenbury's dungeon tower, 
 These silver mists shall melt away 
 And dew the woods with glittering spray. 
 Then in broad lustre shall be shown 
 That mighty trench of living stone. 
 
 * Scott's " Kokeby," 1st, 2nd, and 3rd Stanzas, 2nd Canto.
 
 i6g 
 
 And each huge trunk that from the side 
 Eeclines him o'er the darksome tide, 
 Where Tees, full many a fathom low, 
 Wears with his rage no common foe ; 
 For pehhly bank nor sand hed here, 
 Nor clay mound checks his fierce career, 
 Condemn'd to mine a channel'd way 
 O'er solid sheets of marhle grey." 
 
 *' Nor Tees alone, in dawning bright, 
 Shall rush upon the ravish 'd sight ; 
 But many a tributary stream, 
 Each from its own dark dell shall gleam ; 
 Staindrop, who from her sylvan bowers 
 Salutes proud Baby's battled towers ; 
 The rural brook of Eglistone, 
 And Balder named from Odin's son, 
 And Greta, to whose banks ere long 
 We lead the lovers of the song : 
 And silver Lune, from Stanmore wild, 
 And fairy Thorsgill's murmuring child, 
 And last and least, but loveliest still, 
 Romantic Deepdale's slender rill." 
 
 Bidding farewell to the land of beauty and of 
 song, with the hope at some future time of 
 renewing an acquaintance of several years ago, 
 amidst the scenes where the Greta weds the 
 Tees, we are again travelling to Darlington,
 
 170 
 
 with the young moon throwing its pale crescent 
 beams upon the fleeting clouds and weary earth, 
 and then leaving them in darker shadow than 
 before. At Darlington a short stay is made, 
 and the colossal statue of Edward Pease in the 
 Market Place, unveiled a few days before, was 
 inspected, and so without further incident of 
 travel, except the fire at Crayke, which was 
 observed from the passing train, York was again 
 safely reached, after our chequered day of storm 
 and sunshine in upper Teesdale. 
 
 October nth, 1875.
 
 No. ii. 
 Burfjam. Brancepetfj &astle nntJ JBurfyam (JDatfyrtital. 
 
 )HE first excursion of the York Tourist 
 Society for 1877, took place on Monday, 
 the 28th May, when many of its members had 
 the pleasure of visiting the far-famed Castle of 
 Brancepeth and the ancient city of Durham. 
 With accustomed liberality, the North Eastern 
 Railway Company placed at their disposal a 
 handsome saloon carriage, which was attached 
 to the 9-5 train to Newcastle, and though a 
 few minutes late in starting, it arrived punc- 
 tually at the station at Durham at 11-32. The 
 morning was cloudy, with occasional gleams 
 of sunshine, showing the probability that a 
 windy, showery day was before us, and gradu- 
 ally the vale of York and the Cleveland hills: 
 became enveloped in driving rain and shadowy 
 mist. On crossing the Tees at the pretty little 
 spa of Croft, the rain cleared off, and the 
 county palatine was entered under more cheer- 
 ing circumstances, though the station-master
 
 172 
 
 at Darlington gave us a Job's comforter in the 
 assurance that there were heavy clouds north- 
 ward, and that his impression was we should 
 have a stormy day. Vegetation also, he 
 assured us, was very backward, the season 
 being fully six weeks behind, and that there 
 was scarcely sufficient cover in which a mouse 
 might hide. Nothing daunted by this gloomy 
 prognostication, the tourists travelled onward 
 through a country whose aspect has been 
 changed by the discoveries of the geologist and 
 the requirements of modern civilization, and 
 where coal and iron reign supreme. From 
 Darlington to Ferry Hill and Durham, the 
 country is studded with the shafts and chim- 
 neys of the coal pits, and the immense mounds 
 -of black and molten slag, indicative of the 
 presence of the blast furnace, and that mar- 
 vellous iron industry which has made Britain 
 commercially supreme amongst the nations of 
 the earth. In this remote district, tenanted 
 by the descendants of the Northmen and 
 the Dane, engaged in primitive methods of 
 agriculture, and obtaining from the not over- 
 generous soil a bare and scanty subsistance, an 
 El Dorado of wealth has been found within the 
 bowels of the earth, which has completely
 
 173 
 
 transformed its pastoral character, and towns 
 and villages have sprung up, mushroom-like, 
 upon its wastes and streams, and princely for- 
 tunes have been made such as Fortunatus 
 never possessed, or even Croesus dreamt of. 
 
 As the line approaches Durham at a consider- 
 able elevation, the prospect that meets the eye 
 is of an interesting and impressive character. 
 Northward and eastward spreads an expanse of 
 country which for picturesque beauty and 
 solemn grandeur can scarcely be surpassed. 
 The winding Wear, flowing on through wooded 
 banks and precipitous heights, is seen wending 
 its way northward towards Sunderland and the 
 distant sea ; whilst the ancient city lies beneath 
 in the valley and on the hill slopes, with the 
 magnificent minster and castle dominating and 
 overlooking it from the lofty peninsula and 
 promontory on which they are placed. 
 
 Having a long day before us, and a consider- 
 able interval elapsing prior to dinner at the 
 County Hotel, in the latter part of the after- 
 noon, the refreshment room at the station was 
 invaded, and a rapid clearance of a portion of 
 its contents effected, to the benefit of the 
 proprietor and all concerned. This strategic 
 movement being satisfactorily accomplished,
 
 174 
 
 we were joined by the Rev. Philip Thompson, 
 the rector of Penshaw, who had previously 
 had an invitation from his relative our presi- 
 dent to honour us with his company ; and 
 very shortly after the train conveyed us to 
 Brancepeth, in fulfilment of the programme. 
 Brancepeth lies rather south-west of Durham, 
 at a distance of about five miles, and was reached 
 in a few minutes. The town of Brandon was 
 passed on the way, where a station has been 
 erected by the North Eastern Railway Company 
 for the accommodation of a population of 8,000 
 people, who have been attracted here by the 
 colliery and other industries with which the 
 place abounds, but which, owing to a dispute 
 as to the parties who are entitled to make the 
 approaches thereto, has not yet been opened 
 for passenger traffic. The Rev. Joseph Lawson, 
 one of the curates of the Rev. A. Buncombe 
 Shafto, who is the rector of this extensive parish 
 and thriving district, here joined the tourists, and 
 under his guidance the grand historical castle 
 of Brancepeth and its equally interesting church 
 were inspected. 
 
 The road from the station led immediately 
 through the village, which was a model of 
 cleanliness, the houses being substantially
 
 175 
 
 built of stone, and profusely covered with 
 climbing plants and clustering evergreens. 
 Education was well attended to, as was evi- 
 denced by the handsome and commodious 
 schools which attracted our attention at the 
 entrance of the village. Passing by the ex- 
 tensive gardens belonging to the domain, we 
 approached the lodge and entered the drive 
 leading to the magnificent structure of the 
 Nevilles, now, after many changes and vicissi- 
 tudes, the property and residence of Viscount 
 Boyne. After a short walk the main entrance 
 is reached, flanked and guarded by two immense 
 circular towers, very similar in appearance to 
 those at the gateway of York Castle. The port- 
 cullis being safely passed, we found ourselves in 
 a spacious court-yard entirely surrounded by 
 lofty walls and fortifications, and by the prin- 
 cipal towers and buildings facing the south 
 and west, and were eventually admitted to 
 inspect this remarkable building, with its costly 
 and interesting treasures, illustrative of the 
 feudal period. 
 
 Brancepeth Castle is supposed to have been 
 one of the earliest castellated buildings in the 
 north, and originally erected by the ancient 
 family of the Bulmers prior to the Norman
 
 176 
 
 conquest. On the failure of male heirs, it r 
 along with Sheriff Hutton, Raby Castle, and 
 other large estates, on the marriage of Emma, 
 the heiress, with Geoffrey de Neville in the 
 beginning of the i2th century, passed iruto the 
 hands of the powerful family of the Nevilles, 
 and ultimately to Ralph de Neville, the first 
 earl of Westmoreland. By attainder for 
 treason, it afterwards came into possession 
 of the crown, and was eventually sold by 
 Charles I. to Ralph Cole, of Newcastle, whose 
 grandson in 1701 sold it to Sir Henry Bellasyse, 
 one of the Fauconberg family, and a distant 
 relative of Sir George Wombwell, Bart., 
 of Newburgh Priory in North Yorkshire. 
 Afterwards it became vested in the Tempest 
 family, and finally was purchased by the 
 Russells, and thence by marriage came into 
 possession of the Right Honourable Lord 
 Boyne. The Norman castle of the Nevilles, 
 by age and neglect, gradually fell into a ruin- 
 ous condition, when, sixty years ago, Matthew 
 Russell, its then owner, determined to restore 
 it, and spent a quarter of a million of money 
 in its reconstruction. The portions of the 
 ancient building now remaining are the 
 towers on the west and south, built, it is
 
 177 
 
 supposed, by Ralph, the first earl of West- 
 moreland, who, according to Leland's Itinerary, 
 made extensive additions and " buildid much 
 of this house " in the year 1398. 
 
 The castle is built upon a slight eminence, 
 with its north and east sides almost level with 
 the table land around it ; but on the south and 
 west there is a steep declivity over-looking a 
 fine romantic stream that has worn its way 
 through the limestone rock below. Here are 
 the terraces and flower gardens tastefully laid 
 out, and winding walks, and rustic bridges, and 
 miniature waterfalls fenced in by a noble belt of 
 woods just bursting out with leafy verdure. 
 The timid hare is startled by the strange in- 
 truders, fear lends impulse to her speedy feet, 
 and she vanishes like a dream. The rabbit, 
 come upon unawares, leaps nimbly from the 
 bridge, and hies him to his accustomed burrow 
 in the twinkling of an eye, and defies pursuit. 
 The peacock, the favourite bird of Juno, with 
 crest erect and spreading, spangled tail, walks 
 by in stately pride and conscious dignity, and 
 scorns to hurry, or to have a single feather 
 ruffled, in what he deems his own domain. The 
 scene here is lovely, and sylvan in its character, 
 and has a soothing and tranquilising effect upon
 
 178 
 
 the mind, which has been previously stirred by 
 the contemplation of the long historic past, 
 when our forefathers through successive gener- 
 ations had to defend their inheritance from the 
 lawless and piratical Dane and marauding Scot ; 
 when the Castle, which is seen in all its majesty 
 and grandeur from these slopes, was a refuge 
 from the fierce invaders, and from whose gates 
 issued forth those gallant men at arms, who at 
 Neville's Cross achieved a great and a glorious 
 victory, 
 
 " Where shivered was fair Scotland's spear, 
 And broken was her shield !"* 
 
 The castle contains many noble apartments, 
 which are fitted up in a style illustrative of a 
 grand baronial residence of the middle ages. 
 The entrance or great hall is a room of fine 
 proportions, and contains a vast amount of 
 armour and weapons of war of the greatest 
 interest. Full suits of armour of lords and 
 knights and men-at-arms are stationed at the 
 sides ; whilst banners, cross bows, petronels, 
 match-locks, pikes, lances, and halberds are 
 placed in various and most effective positions. 
 
 * Scott's "Marmion," 34th Stanza, 6th Canto.
 
 179 
 
 A suit of armour is shown, said to have belonged 
 to David Bruce, the King of Scotland, who was 
 taken prisoner at the battle of Neville's Cross 
 by Queen Phillippa, the consort of King Edward 
 III., who, marching from York, surprised and 
 utterly defeated the Scots at Red Hills, in the 
 vicinity of Durham. In the vestibule leading 
 from the great hall to a long saloon and private 
 chapel, and directly opposite the library door, 
 are four panels of beautiful stained glass, repre- 
 senting King Edward III., Phillippa his Queen, 
 the Black Prince, and Joan Beaufort. The 
 colours are brilliant, and the figures are life 
 size and very effective, and wear collars of the 
 illustrious SS pattern. The library is a very 
 handsome room, well fitted with cases and 
 shelves, and contains a fine and valuable col- 
 lection of handsomely-bound volumes. From 
 the south window of this room is seen a most 
 extensive landscape, including a wide extent of 
 park, dotted with deer and abounding with trees 
 and plantations to the very edge of Spennymoor. 
 The remaining rooms of interest, on this the 
 south-east side of the castle, consist of the 
 chapel and a long gallery or saloon, its whole 
 length, on both sides, being filled with non- 
 descript armour and firelocks sufficient for a
 
 i8o 
 
 small regiment of soldiers. Standing upright 
 by the wall, and as rigid as on parade, are these 
 imaginary warriors with musket and sword 
 bayonet, breastplate and iron bonnet, whilst a 
 Sherwood forester's horn is suspended from 
 each imaginary waist. Passing through the 
 gallery at the witching hour of night, with the 
 fitful gleamings of the moon glancing through 
 each lattice pane, and then leaving all in darker 
 shadow than before, fancy might easily endow 
 them with a real existence, and every moment we 
 might expect to be challenged and our progress 
 barred until the pass-word was given of friend 
 or foe. 
 
 " The moon shone forth, and through the gloom 
 Lit up each shadowy visage pale, 
 Danced on the dark brow'd warrior's mail, 
 And kissed his waving plume." : 
 
 At the eastern extremity of the saloon is the 
 private chapel of considerable dimensions, with 
 a beautiful smooth floor, polished oaken seats, 
 and an altar or reredos of fine design. Within 
 the altar rails are some recesses containing 
 
 1 Adapted from Scott's " Lay of the Last Minstrel," 
 18th Stanza, 2nd Canto.
 
 memorials of the Russell family. A peculiar 
 odour pervades the chapel, arising from the 
 open groined roof of cedar, which is hand- 
 somely carved. 
 
 Returning to the great hall a noble staircase 
 is seen, which is well lighted and contrasts 
 wonderfully with the "dim religious light" 
 around it. Here admirable pictures and 
 elaborately carved cabinets adorn the walls 
 and fill the vacant spaces. On the west side 
 (the most ancient of the castle) is a suite of 
 rooms, exquisite in design and most varied in 
 character, fitted up with magnificent fireplaces, 
 beautiful mirrors, and costly ornaments, the 
 other furnishings being also appropriate to the 
 uses of the apartments. The octagon, the 
 dining-room, the saloon or drawing-room, and 
 the baron's hall, with their groined roofs and 
 deeply - recessed windows, being admirable 
 restorations. A very large cabinet of tortoise 
 shell and ebony, and two characteristic pictures 
 of Hogarth's, attracted general attention, whilst 
 the baron's hall, with its pictured windows 
 illustrative of the Battle of Neville's Cross, its 
 armour, two-handed swords and antique furni- 
 ture, took you back to the martial times of 
 the three Edwards, only to be dispelled by the
 
 i8a 
 
 charming and ever varying views of rural 
 quietude and peace that awaited the gaze at 
 each succeeding window. 
 
 On returning to the court yard, and thence 
 through the portal to the verdant sward beyond, 
 how easily could we picture to ourselves those 
 unsettled and long receding times, when the 
 Baron in his castle, with his henchmen and 
 retainers was only secure so long as he could 
 keep the enemy from his gate, when the lot of 
 the serf and villein was anything but enviable, 
 and the tragic fate that so frequently befel both 
 nobles and princes, justifies the saying of 
 Charles I. and was eminently true and applicable 
 to other times besides his own "That there is 
 but a small step between the prisons and the 
 graves of princes." In that wonderful romance, 
 the matchless Ivanhoe, we have a powerful 
 picture of the life of those times of lawlessness, 
 oppression and insecurity, when wild and rough 
 justice frequently redressed wrong and punished 
 crime in an extemporaneous fashion. In honest 
 Gurth we have portrayed a true and manly 
 Saxon, let us hope, however, fully equalled by 
 many an Englishman of the present day. In 
 Locksley, or Robin Hood, we confess to a 
 universal sympathy with the stealer of the king's
 
 deer, and the redresser of social wrongs ; and 
 we can realise and admire the English spirit of 
 adventure of Richard Coeur de Lion and our 
 ancient nobility, in organising those wonderful 
 crusades, drawing from the west its boldest 
 spirits and its most martial ardour in the cause 
 of faith against the all -conquering Saracen, 
 culminating in those thrilling feats of arms, at 
 the tourney at Ashby-de-la-Zouch, by Brian Bois 
 de Gilbert and the Knight of the Fetterlock. 
 
 Our next visit, was to the church, which 
 stands a short way in the park to the east 
 of the castle. It is a fine structure, and retains 
 more of its original features than many similar 
 edifices. The tower is Early English, about 
 the middle of the thirteenth century, and the 
 nave and transepts are of the decorated period ; 
 the chancel is in the perpendicular style, and 
 the remainder of the building with the fittings, 
 including pews and pulpit, the screen and stall 
 work, are supposed to be Elizabethan, and 
 consequently near 300 years old. There is 
 a beautiful canopy over the font, ten or twelve 
 feet high, elaborately carved, and similar in 
 character to the screen. The organ is recessed 
 within the Ladye Chapel, and there are several 
 fine modern painted windows in the chancel
 
 184 
 
 and transepts. The memorial tablets are 
 numerous of the Russell family, and a modern 
 one, of a brother of one of our Yorkshire worthies, 
 Mr. Parrington, was easily distinguished. 
 Beneath the belfrey was a large tomb with 
 coats of arms now defaced, and within the 
 chancel a knight and lady recumbent, the 
 figures carved in wood, and an immense stone 
 figure of a crusader with shield and armour, 
 memorials of the noble family of Neville. 
 There are singularly small windows in the 
 church, from the transepts and the chapel, for 
 the benefit of the excommunicated, who were 
 allowed to look through on the elevation of 
 the host. The registers of the parish were 
 shown, and are very interesting, dating back 
 from 1599, and are continuous from that time. 
 Altogether our visit to the church was of an 
 agreeeable character, and our thanks were 
 duly tendered to the Rev. J. Lawson for acting 
 as our guide, our counsellor, and friend. 
 
 As the first part of our programme was now 
 fulfilled, three restless tourists declined to 
 wait for the train, and set off to walk to 
 Durham. Nothing of interest, it is said, 
 occurred until their arrival at Brandon, where 
 a local Alhambra was noticed, of a pretentious,
 
 but not very elegant character, and many shops 
 and houses were closed, testifying to the bad- 
 ness and slackness of trade. Here one of 
 our adventurers fell in with an acquaintance, 
 who proffered his hospitality to the party, and 
 explained to them the etymology of Brancepeth 
 and Brandon in this wise. " Brancepeth and 
 Brandon (the Brawn's Path and Den) derived 
 their names from a Brawn of an immense size, 
 which in olden times laid waste the lands in 
 the neighbourhood. The boar or brawn of 
 Brancepeth was a formidable animal, which 
 made his lair on Brandon Hill, and walked the 
 forest in ancient undisputed sovereignty from 
 the Wear to the Gaunless. After committing 
 innumerable ravages, it was destroyed in a 
 pitfall near Cleves Cross, by Hodge, of Ferry. 
 The seal of Roger de Ferie still remains in 
 the Treasury exhibiting his old antagonist 
 " a boar passant." This explanation naturally 
 brought up the old legend of the felon Sow 
 of Rokeby and the friars of Richmond, as well as 
 that of the Dragon of Wantley, which their anti- 
 quarian friend pronounced were all founded 
 on the same fable. Whether true or false 
 there was no time to dispute, as the remainder 
 of the afternoon had to be devoted to the
 
 i86 
 
 antiquities of Durham ; so bidding him fare- 
 well they went jauntily on their way, rather 
 enjoying than otherwise the sudden storm 
 of wind and rain, doubtless sent by the 
 ferocious Brawn as a punishment for their 
 unbelief in him and the dragon, and all such 
 superstitious stories. It is confidently asserted 
 the rain came in torrents, filling their coat 
 pockets, and at Neville's Cross and the market 
 place at Durham they were in a sorry plight, 
 and obliged to betake themselves to the County 
 Hotel, in order to make a more presentable 
 appearance at the minster service in the 
 afternoon. 
 
 The history of Durham is intimately asso- 
 ciated with the magnificent shrine erected by 
 William de Carileph, who laid the foundation 
 stone in 1093, in place of a more humble 
 edifice, in which had been placed the body of 
 St. Cuthbert by the monks of Lindisfarne. 
 The story of his life is most romantic, and the 
 adventures that befel his remains for a period 
 of 300 years are somewhat marvellous. Born 
 in Scotland about the year 652, and becoming 
 a monk at the Abbey of Melrose, he ultimately 
 became its prior, and subsequently also prior 
 of Lindisfarne. The austerity of his life, and
 
 187 
 
 the miracles said to have been wrought by 
 him, naturally led to higher preferment, and the 
 See of Hexham, and afterwards the Bishopric 
 of Lindisfarne were in turn conferred upon him. 
 The latter, however, he ultimately resigned, 
 and retiring to a hermit's life on the larger of 
 the Fame Islands, there died in the odour of 
 sanctity, and was buried by the altar of 
 Lindisfarne, from which time commenced that 
 veneration for him which culminated in the 
 erection of the finest Norman cathedral in the 
 kingdom. 
 
 About the year 875, the piratical Danes had 
 extended their ravages over a great portion of 
 the northern counties, and ecclesiastical struc- 
 tures more especially were ruthlessly defaced 
 and plundered by the heathen invaders. The 
 monks were terrified by their approach, and 
 hastily removed the body of the saint to Chester- 
 le-Street, where it remained 113 years, when, 
 other troubles arising, it was taken for better 
 security to the monastery of Ripon. The danger 
 passing away, the monks returned northward, 
 and coming to Durham, the prospects of peace 
 and security which the place offered so charmed 
 them, they resolved to wander no more, but 
 here to erect the shrine of their saint.
 
 i88 
 
 " So when the rude Dane burned their pile, 
 The monks fled forth from Holy Isle, 
 And, after many wanderings past, 
 He chose his lordly seat at last, 
 Where his cathedral, huge and vast, 
 
 Looks down upon the Wear, 
 There, deep in Durham's Gothic shade, 
 His relics are in secret laid." * 
 
 This, shortly stated, is the history of St. 
 Cuthbert, and the origin of that stately pile, 
 which, from its lofty position and magnitude, 
 impress the beholder with a feeling of reverence 
 and awe. In length it is 431 feet, exclusive of 
 the Galilee, which, though beautiful in itself, is 
 an excrescence, and interferes and blocks up 
 the fine western front, which in most Cathedrals 
 is the principal entrance and grandest feature. 
 The central lantern tower is 214 feet high, and 
 the western towers, which are now being 
 renovated, are 138 feet. The general form of 
 the building is that of a long nave and choir in 
 continuation, with an eastern, middle, and west- 
 ern transept. The great western entrance being 
 blocked up by Bishop Pudsay's Galilee, access 
 
 * Scott's " Marmion." 14th Stanza, 2nd Canto.
 
 189 
 
 is gained at the north side, near the western 
 tower, through a fine Norman doorway, on 
 the panel of which appears a huge grotesque 
 knocker, quite in keeping with its Norman and 
 Gothic surroundings. 
 
 On approaching from the castle yard and 
 palace green, a fine, full-length view of the 
 north side of the minster is obtained, as the 
 space is entirely clear from extraneous build- 
 ings. Whatever impression however may be 
 made on the mind by its proportions and extent, 
 it is as nothing, compared with the solidity, 
 strength, and grandeur that meets and awes 
 your astonished gaze as you enter within 
 the precincts of the nave. On each side of the 
 nave are five enormous clustered pillars, the 
 base of each covering an area of 255 square feet. 
 Alternately with these to the eastward of the 
 boundary cross (beyond which women were not 
 allowed to trespass) are round massive columnar 
 piers, having a circumference of 23 feet, and 
 standing on bases 12 feet square. Above 
 the arches is the triforium, and over this is 
 the clerestory in fine Norman work, with a 
 groined roof, 70 feet in height. The transepts 
 and the greater portion of the choir are of 
 similar architecture to the nave, but in its
 
 eastern portion Early English has been substi- 
 tuted as an improvement on the Norman, but 
 with which it does not harmonise. The chapel 
 of the "Nine Altars" is a remarkable structure, 
 and, taken by itself, its architectural features 
 are exceedingly fine. Here we have the per- 
 fection of Early English, with its long lancets, 
 and a magnificent marigold or rose window, 
 the whole blazing with brilliant painted glass. 
 But the same remark applies to this as to the 
 chancel, that it is incongruous and inhar- 
 monious, and does not properly blend with 
 the more severe and sturdy grandeur of Jhe 
 Norman pile. 
 
 The Galilee, the cloisters, and the crypt are 
 other important features in connection with this 
 majestic building, but which in a paper like the 
 present it would be impossible to describe. 
 The former, however, enshrines the remains of 
 the most venerated name in the annals of 
 learning in the "Venerable Bede." There are 
 also many interesting monuments of remarkable 
 historical personages, and the most elaborate 
 and striking is the altar tomb of Bishop Hatfield 
 on the south side of the choir, which at once 
 serves as a canopy for his resting-place, and a 
 throne for his successors.
 
 igi 
 
 " High crown'd he sits, by right divine, 
 The monarch of St. Cuthbert's shrine." * 
 
 The tourists had the advantage of witnessing 
 the restoration and additions which the Dean 
 and Chapter have latterly effected through the 
 instrumentality of Sir Gilbert Scott. They 
 have been a considerable time in execution, and 
 have greatly added to the appearance of the 
 interior. The public ceremonial consequent 
 upon the re-opening in October last was of an 
 imposing character, and attended by most of 
 the influential personages of the county. The 
 walls and pillars have been thoroughly cleansed 
 from successive coats of whitewash, which has 
 revealed many points of interest that had here- 
 tofore been hid . Stained glass has contributed 
 a wealth of warmth and colour, in which it had 
 previously been deficient. A new and powerful 
 organ, which stands on both sides of the choir, 
 has materially assisted the full development 
 of its magnificent choral services. A brass 
 lectern has been placed beneath the tower, and 
 a splendid pulpit of alabaster, supported on 
 clustered columns with mosaic work between 
 
 * Adapted from Scott's "Eokeby," 1st Stanza, 2nd Canto.
 
 192 
 
 the shafts, erected in front of the south-west 
 chancel pillar. Its execution is most elaborate, 
 3,000 pieces of coloured marble having been 
 employed in the construction of the upper part 
 alone. It is the design of Sir Gilbert Scott, and 
 the cost is said to be 5,000. The pavement 
 of the choir has also been renewed, and is 
 composed of a mosaic of various coloured 
 marbles, which is most effective. 
 
 Another alteration, which was sure to give rise 
 to much controversy, is the erection of an open 
 screen dividing the choir from the transepts and 
 nave. It consists of three arches, springing 
 from a base of black marble, supported on 
 clustered detached columns of Frosterley marble. 
 The capitals of the columns are foliated, the 
 spandrils are filled in with mosaic work, and 
 the niches are surmounted by a foliated support 
 of the cornices in alabaster carved work. It 
 stands 23 feet in height, and has cost 3,000. 
 There can be no question as to the grandeur of 
 the work, but there can be as to its appropriate- 
 ness in the position in which it is placed. With 
 a Norman nave, transepts, and choir, one cannot 
 understand the interposition of a decorated 
 English screen in the very place where 
 Norman arches would be more appropriate.
 
 193 
 
 Without attempting to be hypercritical, or to 
 presume upon having a knowledge of Gothic 
 architecture in the slightest degree approaching 
 to Sir Gilbert Scott, although we candidly admit 
 it to be lighter and less obstructive, yet, at the 
 same time, we must maintain Norman work 
 would have been more realistic, and have 
 merited universal approbation. * 
 
 After the limited inspection which time 
 permitted of this marvellous building, the hour 
 for the afternoon service arrived, and the tourists 
 were courteously conducted to the stalls in the 
 choir. Amongst the songmen the familiar faces 
 of Lambert, Tuke, and Grice were discovered, 
 as they had formerly been connected with the 
 York cathedral choir. The anthem "Where 
 shall wisdom be found?" by Boyce, was given 
 with energy and effect, and the various solo 
 passages were rendered with good taste. The 
 Rev. Canon Evans, Professor of Greek at the 
 University, one of the residentiary canons, was 
 the principal clergyman present, and read the 
 
 * The general tendency of the age, however, is to remove 
 screens, which were no part of the original design, but 
 which very frequently detract from, and interfere with the 
 grandeur and magnificence of Gothic interiors. 
 o
 
 194 
 
 first lesson of the service for the day. Evening 
 prayer being concluded, we took our departure 
 by the same northern portal, the scene inside 
 making a deep impression on our minds, and 
 we must honestly confess that in our opinion 
 Durham excels all other Norman ecclesiastical 
 structures with which we are acquainted. 
 On bidding it farewell we may safely use 
 the glowing language of one who has an 
 intimate and loving acquaintance with it, and 
 whose extensive knowledge of other English 
 and Continental cathedrals peculiarly qualifies 
 him to give an opinion as to the merits 
 of Norman architecture : "I know of nothing 
 in the whole range of buildings in Europe which 
 strike the beholder in the same manner as this 
 peculiar solemn majesty of the nave of Durham. 
 None of the interiors of Normandy itself have 
 it ; some of them are actually mean in com- 
 parison ; the giddy height of second pointed 
 French vaults does not produce it ; even in the 
 gigantic pile of St. Peter's at Rome, where the 
 classic style has had the opportunity of placing, 
 by its overwhelming size, all other cathedrals 
 in the shade, the size does not appear so great 
 as it really is, and the effect must be considered 
 a failure. But in Durham, which is not
 
 195 
 
 comparatively a large church, we immediately 
 feel that we stand in a mighty presence." * 
 
 A flying visit was made to the castle, which 
 is now the university, and the river banks, 
 where there are delightful wooded walks and 
 charming prospects, were partially explored. 
 The drinking fountain with the figure of Neptune 
 on its summit, and the grand equestrian statue 
 of the Marquis of Londonderry by Signor Monti 
 in the market place, were religiously inspected, 
 and so, after an excellent dinner at the County 
 Hotel, the railway station was again reached, 
 and we bid good bye to the quaint streets, the 
 winding river, and glorious minster of Durham, 
 commending them to the protection of their 
 patron saint who here has found a noble resting 
 place and a magnificent and matchless shrine. 
 
 June ^th, 1877. 
 
 * Mr. E. R. Robson's Lecture on " Durham Cathedral.'
 
 No. 12. 
 of tfje $eafc, 93uiton, 
 
 DHE above named excursion of the 
 fj| York Tourist Society took place on 
 Tuesday and Wednesday, the 25th and 26th 
 September, when the romantic scenery of 
 Derbyshire was visited, and included the Peak 
 and other remarkable caves at Castleton, the 
 castle of Peveril of the Peak, the beautiful 
 spa, pavilion, and gardens of Buxton, the 
 magnificent Miller's Dale, and the far-famed 
 historical Haddon Hall, a programme suffi- 
 ciently tempting to induce a goodly number of its 
 most influential members to join the excursion. 
 Punctual to the minute the train left the York 
 station at 6-50 a.m., and, after a short stay at 
 Normanton, duly arrived at Sheffield, where 
 carriages were in waiting to convey the party 
 over the moors via Eccleshall and Hope Valley 
 to Castleton. After driving through some of the 
 principal streets of Sheffield, its outskirts were 
 ultimately passed, and its pall of smoke left
 
 behind, and beautiful villas, parklike grounds, 
 and wooded slopes companioned them to the 
 verge of the moors at Fox House Hotel, near 
 Longshawe, a shooting box of the Duke of 
 Rutland, where the horses were rested, and the 
 homoeopathists indulged in their usual beverage. 
 The scenery here on the elevated moors was 
 romantic in character ; immense rocks and 
 boulders, similar to those at Brimham, were 
 scattered amongst the heather, whilst an 
 enormous limestone ridge, assuming a variety 
 of forms and fantastic shapes, bounded the 
 prospect to the north. In remarkable contrast 
 to their rugged grandeur, the western slopes 
 suddenly opened out a prospect of surpassing 
 loveliness and verdure in the Valley of Hope, 
 where the Derwent from the Peak mountains 
 glided along in a silvery streak, now hidden 
 by the variegated foliage of the waving woods, 
 and ever and anon peeped out in winding 
 reaches or rushing waterfalls on its way to 
 Chatsworth and the favourite watering place 
 of Matlock. The rocks on these moors are 
 quite Titantic, and assume the forms of natural 
 objects in a striking manner. An immense 
 tortoise overlooks the traveller close to the 
 highway, and a gigantic sphinx in solemn
 
 igB 
 
 majesty surveys the outstretched moors with 
 watchful, unclosed eyes ; whilst here and there 
 are others, seemingly of a druidical character, 
 bringing the mind back to a system of super- 
 stition or religion of a remote and pre-historic 
 period. Leaving the high level of the moors, 
 we gradually descend into the valley of Hope, 
 and through narrow winding roads at length 
 cross the Derwent, and drive along one 
 of its tributaries to Castleton, which is almost 
 enclosed in a circle of hills, with Peveril Castle 
 looking sternly down on the village below. 
 The Castle Hotel was at once invaded, and a 
 hot, substantial dinner attacked by the assem- 
 bled tourists, whose appetites had been whetted 
 and strengthened by the cold bracing air 
 of the Derbyshire moors. When nature was 
 satisfied, the whole of the company moved off 
 to the Peak or Devil's Cavern, which is the 
 chief attraction of the place. Crossing a bridge 
 over a rushing stream, the approach lies along 
 a narrow ravine where the rocks rise perpen- 
 dicularly, or frequently overhang, to an altitude 
 of three or four hundred feet, their sides being 
 partially clothed with moss, shrubs, and climbing 
 trees, which soften the otherwise stern and rugged 
 features of the cliff. Here the path ends, and
 
 199 
 
 a wonderful scene at once bursts upon the view 
 as the immense and mighty cavern is reached. 
 Within its wide and capacious portals a tribe 
 of villagers of both sexes were seen engaged 
 in spinning twine, whose weird looms in the 
 dim twilight looked like tripods in an orches- 
 tra, and none would have been surprised to 
 hear the witching strains of fairy harmony, or 
 such entrancing notes as volumed forth when 
 " Orpheus struck the lyre." 
 
 On making arrangements with the guide for 
 a full survey of the cavern, each tourist was 
 provided with a candle, and in single file its 
 intricacies were explored. The guide, in pecu- 
 liar diction and in showman fashion, extolled 
 its beauties and its marvels in an amusing and 
 grotesque manner, and on lighting up the 
 various grottos, arched vaults, and majestic 
 chambers, with candles and various-coloured 
 lights, its peculiarities and immensity were 
 strikingly revealed. 
 
 Shortly after crossing the outer cavern, you 
 pass through a narrow opening till you arrive 
 at what the guide tells you is the river Styx, 
 where in a corner is pointed out the decaying 
 fragments of a boat formerly used to ferry 
 passengers into its inner recesses, access to
 
 200 
 
 which, however, is now obtained by a blasting 
 through the rock. The path lies alongside the 
 stream, which is frequently crossed, and which 
 our tourists christened "The Strid." Fre- 
 quently the roof rises into lofty vaults, whose 
 top is lost in deep shadow, and presently it 
 sinks so low that you are compelled to stoop, 
 and so you pass on by winding ways until you 
 reach the furthest point yet attained, which is 
 750 yards from the entrance. 
 
 Our eyes becofning more accustomed to the 
 darkness, on the return we were better able to 
 discern the forms of the various chambers. 
 One rises to an immense altitude, and although 
 it was lit by brilliant-coloured lights the roof 
 could scarcely be detected. Others are of 
 smaller size, but have a distinctive name, and 
 the title of the music gallery is very appropri- 
 ately given to a natural loft, where choristers 
 once sang " God save the Queen," when her 
 Majesty visited it from Chatsworth as the guest 
 of the Duke of Devonshire. At another spot 
 is a series of arches which at once identified 
 them with Gothic architecture. Being lit up 
 with coloured lights, the effect was singular. 
 The brightness of the chamber contrasted 
 with the fitful lurid glare that played over
 
 2OI 
 
 every projecting fragment, and penetrating 
 into each deep and gloomy recess, pictured 
 mysterious figures and devotional shrines, 
 until you could have imagined some religious 
 rite was being performed, and that the 
 pealing organ would immediately burst forth 
 with its contribution of harmonious praise. 
 On returning to the partition that separates 
 the inner from the outer cavern, a surprise 
 of a remarkable character awaits the tourist. 
 Looking straight before you to the entrance of 
 the cave, over the looms and their workers, 
 you imagine a brilliant artificial light is 
 playing on the rushing stream, the limestone 
 rock, and the plants and trees that cling fairy- 
 like to its rugged sides. Its effect is marvel- 
 lous and dazzling, yet singularly pleasing, but 
 as you gradually approach it, you perceive it is 
 merely owing to the daylight streaming into 
 the mouth of the cave, which surprises you by 
 its brilliancy, on emerging from the darkness. 
 
 Returning down the ravine, a fine, natural 
 well and rushing stream was visited, remark- 
 able for the peculiar manner in which it welled 
 and rose in swelling waves, its source being 
 evidently from the same subterranean passage 
 as the cave river. An attempt was then made
 
 202 
 
 by most of the tourists to climb the difficult 
 and winding path that led to the castle of 
 Peveril of the Peak. This accomplished, a 
 magnificent prospect met the view. The town 
 of Castleton and the cultivated plain below lay 
 like a vast amphitheatre mapped out before us, 
 surrounded by lofty hills whose summits were 
 just discerned beneath their canopy of mist. 
 The keep, like an eyry in the clouds, was built 
 upon the extreme summit of the Peak, its 
 south and western sides looking down the per- 
 pendicular rock at the entrance to the cave, as 
 well as a narrow ravine of a winding and 
 romantic character, bearing the name of Cave 
 Dale. Its appearance from the Castleton side 
 is rugged and singular, as all the outside 
 dressed stone has been removed, exposing the 
 rubble. On the Cave Dale side and in the 
 interior of the tower, the masonry is almost 
 perfect, and evidently Norman in character. 
 Lower down the hill is a strong embattled wall, 
 showing traces of bastions and a gateway to 
 defend the keep and enclosure. The castle is 
 so elevated and difficult of access that the 
 wonder is how its lordly owner and his garrison 
 and retainers managed to convey provisions 
 and other necessaries for their support, and no
 
 203 
 
 doubt it is owing to its having been dismantled 
 prior to the days of Cromwell and the reign of 
 king Charles II. that Sir Walter Scott, though 
 he has taken the title of Peveril of the Peak 
 for his romance, fixes the family at Martindale 
 Castle, in some other portion of the Peak 
 country. We give the following quotation from 
 the opening chapter of " Peveril of the Peak,'* 
 as it shortly states their origin in forcible and 
 graphic language : 
 
 " William the Conqueror of England, was, or 
 supposed himself to be, the father of a certain 
 William Peveril, who attended him to the 
 Battle of Hastings, and there distinguished 
 himself. The liberal - minded monarch, who 
 assumed in his charter the veritable title of 
 Gulielmus Bastardus, was not likely to let his 
 son's illegitimacy be any bar to the course of his 
 royal favour, when the laws of England were 
 issued from the mouth of the Norman victor, 
 and the lands of the Saxons were at his unlimited 
 disposal. William Peveril obtained a liberal 
 grant of property and lordships in Derbyshire, 
 and became the erector of that Gothic fortress,, 
 which hanging over the mouth of the Devil's 
 Cavern, so well known to tourists, gives the 
 name of Castleton to the adjacent village.
 
 204 
 
 " From this feudal baron, who chose his nest 
 upon the principles on which an eagle selects 
 her eyry, and built it in such a fashion as if he 
 had intended it, as an Irishman said of the 
 Martello towers, for the sole purpose of puzzling 
 posterity, there was, or conceived themselves to 
 be, descended (for their pedigree was rather 
 hypothetical) an opulent family of knightly rank, 
 in the same county of Derby. The great fief of 
 Castleton, with its adjacent wastes and forests, 
 and all the wonders which they contain, had 
 been forfeited in king John's stormy days, by 
 one William Peveril, and had been granted 
 anew to the Lord Ferrers of that day. Yet this 
 William's descendants, though no longer pos- 
 sessed of what they alleged to have been their 
 original property were long distinguished by the 
 proud title of Peverils of the Peak, which 
 served to mark their high descent, and lofty 
 pretensions." 
 
 As most of our readers are acquainted with 
 the romance, we shall not pursue further the 
 fortunes of Peveril of the Peak, but resume our 
 journey to Buxton. As the Blue John Mine 
 was to be visited, it was suggested we should 
 make our ascent to it by way of the Winnats, 
 as some of the finest scenery in Derbyshire was
 
 203 
 
 there to be found. Though the ascent was long 
 and trying to the lungs, this " Schipka Pass" 
 amply repaid the exertion of a visit. The 
 Winnats, or Windgates, is a narrow mountain 
 gorge, and forms the natural western entrance 
 to the valley in which Castleton lies. In going 
 to the Blue John Mine you pass up it, but its 
 savage grandeur is best seen in descending it. 
 On either hand rise precipitous mountains, 
 strongly reft and shattered, yet answering to 
 each other, line for line and curve for curve, as 
 though in some mighty convulsion the earth 
 had opened, and the sides of the gaping fissure 
 had been suddenly arrested, and for ever fixed 
 apart. The same convulsion of nature doubtless 
 produced the same features in the Blue John 
 Mine, which is a natural cavern, though some 
 portions of it are worked for the Blue John or 
 fluor spar from which handsome transparent 
 ornaments and vases are made in highly artistic 
 designs. The entrance to the cave is from the 
 hill side, down flights of stairs and winding 
 galleries, to immense chambers, equally as 
 large and far higher than those in the Peak 
 Cavern. The Blue John is seen here and there 
 running in veins, enclosed between similar veins 
 of gypsum, and is procured out of narrow deep
 
 206 
 
 recesses by the ordinary process of mining and 
 blasting. The stalactites in this cavern are 
 exceedingly fine, assuming a variety of forms, 
 and appeared in all the colours of the rainbow 
 when illuminated by a brilliant light. The 
 lower cavern, called Lord Mulgrave's Dining 
 Hall, is impressively large, and is in proximity 
 to a smaller cavern where the explorations have 
 not been continued, and is nearly half a mile 
 from the entrance ; it is about 350 feet deep, 
 and yet if a straight line could be drawn would 
 be found little more than 100 yards from the 
 opening fissure. Having had everything of 
 moment pointed out to us by an intelligent 
 guide, we resumed our journey to Buxton, 
 passing near the celebrated Mam Tor or 
 Shivering Mountain, now nearly enveloped in 
 mist. The night closed in a-pace, shutting out 
 the magnificent prospect of the Peak range, 
 and eventually a sharp shower came pelting on 
 the not unprepared tourists, who went through 
 it with the utmost " sang froid." A passing 
 railway train from Manchester, brilliantly illu- 
 minated, glided along through the darkness. 
 Fairfield was reached, the gas lights of 
 Buxton appeared in the valley below, and 
 ultimately the bridge over the Wye was crossed,
 
 207 
 
 and so through Spring Gardens the carriages 
 rattled, and pulled up at St. Ann's Hotel in the 
 Crescent, which was- to be our temporary home 
 until our departure for Miller's Dale and 
 Haddon Hall the following morning. 
 
 The spa of Buxton is exceedingly pretty, and 
 surpasses most other watering places by the 
 grandeur of its buildings, the beauty of its 
 scenery, and the sheltered situation in which it 
 lies an amphitheatre surrounded by bold and 
 lofty hills. Its varied walks, its stately 
 promenades, its terraces, gardens, waterfalls, 
 lakes, and elegant pavilion have made it a place 
 of fashionable resort, and its pure and bracing 
 atmosphere gives strength to the enfeebled nerve, 
 colour to the pallid cheek, and renewed life to 
 the invalid. The tourists, prior to retiring for 
 the night, and in the early morning beneath 
 the bright and silvery beams of the majestic 
 Queen of Night, or by the early sunlight, fair 
 promise of a brilliant day surveyed the 
 beauties of this charming place, and after a 
 visit to Poole's Hole, which repeats to some 
 extent the wonders of the cavern of the peak, 
 were again on the move through the magnifi- 
 cent scenery of rock, wood, and water of 
 Ashwood Dale.
 
 208 
 
 We have visited many remarkable places, 
 and scenery of a bold or of a romantic character, 
 but take it for all in all there is nothing within 
 the range of our experience to equal in rugged 
 grandeur and sylvan beauty the Derbyshire 
 scenery along the Derwent and the Wye from 
 Ambergate to Buxton. Through Ashwood 
 Dale, past the Lover's Leap and Shirbrook 
 Dell, there is a succession of majestic rocks, 
 wooded slopes, and rushing rivulets that make 
 the tourist desire to linger amidst those wild, 
 pleasing, and entrancing scenes ; so a halt is 
 made, and a walk along the river is decided on 
 through Blackwell Dale, past Chee Tor, and on 
 to Miller's Dale. The earlier part of the walk 
 is easy in character, and the scenery in. Black- 
 well Dale is bold and striking, but it is only 
 when Chee Dale is reached you are impressed 
 with its magnificence, as it is the finest of its 
 kind in Derbyshire, and fully deserves all that 
 has been said or written about it. Where the 
 valley narrows you come upon an enormous con- 
 cave wall of limestone, rising perpendicularly 
 from the river to a height of more than three 
 hundred feet. Other, though not such stupend- 
 ous masses, rise with equal abruptness on the 
 opposite side of the dell. Here and there a
 
 20Q 
 
 yew has found root in a fissure of the mighty 
 cliffs, or a graceful ash or hazel waves in the 
 soft breeze. You wander on awed by the sur- 
 rounding majesty, till your path is closed by 
 beetling rocks, which rise like vast portals of 
 the pass to prohibit alike admission or departure. 
 In fact, the dale here is almost impassable, and 
 it is only by stepping stones or by rough and 
 dangerous climbing along the ledges of the rock 
 that a passage can be effected, and it was not 
 to be wondered at that some of the seniors of 
 the party turned back and took the driving 
 road to Miller's Dale, where all ultimately 
 re-assembled, and shortly after left by the train 
 to Bakewell for a drive to Haddon Hall. 
 
 The carriages are mounted at the station, 
 and are soon driving along the undulating road 
 to the pretty town of Bakewell, so sweetly 
 nestling in the midst of vernal pastures on the 
 banks of the ever-murmuring Wye. The road 
 winds along with the courses of the river, and 
 the hills are more retired and of less elevation 
 than the bold and rugged precipitous heights 
 we have left behind us in the Miller's "Dale. 
 At a bending of the road the battlemented 
 turrets of Haddon come in sight, and the lofty 
 Eagle tower, with its elevated flagstaff, stands
 
 210 
 
 prominently out in a setting of autumnal 
 changing trees. The distant view of its towers 
 and turrets, embosomed in its wealth of wood, 
 is singularly charming, and a closer acquaint- 
 ance with it on driving through the meadows 
 and over the low-arched bridge even adds to its 
 grandeur and picturesqueness, and, seen for the 
 first time, you can easily understand how it has 
 been the theme of the poet and romancer, and 
 why the painter is never weary of portraying 
 its matchless beauties and its wonderful 
 perfections. 
 
 On arriving at the ancient gateway, embel- 
 lished with numerous coats of arms of its 
 former possessors, the Avenels, Bassets, Ver- 
 nons, and Manners, you make your obeisance 
 to the genius of the ancient nobility by stooping 
 through a low doorway, having first placed 
 your feet within the hollows of the step, worn 
 down through successive ages by crowds of 
 tourists and pilgrims drawn hither by the 
 associations connected with the most complete 
 and perfect mansion of the Tudor and Eliza- 
 bethan period. You find yourselves at once 
 in a spacious quadrangle, where the barons' 
 hall, the chapel, and the chaplain's room are 
 some of the principal buildings surrounding it,
 
 211 
 
 having a few turrets at the angles, and peculiar 
 Gothic gurgoyles as an ornamentation. After 
 the chapel had been visited, and its decayed 
 and faded fittings inspected, our lady guide 
 led the way to the main entrance, and ushered 
 the tourists into the barons' hall. This room 
 has often been described and pictured, as 
 indeed it gives the best illustration of the 
 social life of a great baron and his retainers 
 in the olden times. It is said to have been 
 erected prior to 1452. It is a noble room, 
 and imposing in appearance, with an open 
 roof, wainscotted walls, and a gallery of carved 
 oak. There is a capacious fireplace, and a 
 raised dais, with the ancient high board of 
 the dining table where the baron or the knight 
 sat with his peers, whilst below were the less 
 distinguished guests, servitors, and retainers. 
 The hall is almost bare of furniture, with 
 the exception of a few quaint and faded 
 pictures, and some stags' horns suspended 
 from the gallery around the walls. A relic 
 of the rudeness of ancient hospitality is 
 fastened to the screen, in the shape of an 
 iron handcuff which was used when any guest 
 refused to drink the usual quantity. On his 
 default or refusal, he was punished by locking
 
 212 
 
 his hand in the frame, which is fixed some 
 height above the head, and the remainder of the 
 draught was then poured down his arm ; so it 
 appears there were Good Templars in those days 
 who preferred the abuse to the use of good 
 brown October, and did despite to Sir John 
 Barleycorn. The private dining-room, the 
 drawing-room, and bed-rooms in this part of 
 the building are interesting from the tapestry 
 and the fine panelling and carving which they 
 contain, and more especially the former, where 
 the ceilings have been divided into compart- 
 ments by carved beams, which have been 
 richly coloured and gilded. The walls are 
 covered with panelled oak, and the fire-place 
 is very elaborate, as above it are exquisite 
 carved portraits, in the shape of medallions, 
 of King Henry VII. and his Queen. The 
 furniture, pictures, and arras of those rooms 
 are particularly interesting, and the views 
 from the deep recessed bay windows are also 
 charming. 
 
 From these rooms the long gallery or 
 ball-room is reached, which is the most 
 modern part of the building, being Elizabethan 
 in character, and no less than 109 feet long, 
 by 18 wide and 15 high. This gallery fronts
 
 213 
 
 to the enclosed garden, and has three immense 
 recessed bay windows, which include more 
 space within them than many modern preten- 
 tious rooms. There is a tradition also that 
 the first ball given in it, after it was built, 
 was opened by Queen Elizabeth, who was 
 then a guest at Haddon. Although the Dukes 
 of Rutland have long ceased to reside here, 
 there have been occasions of festivities and 
 balls taking place on important occasions both 
 of a national and family character, and the 
 good people of Sheffield and other places have 
 frequently had the privilege of using this suite 
 of rooms for social gatherings or for fancy 
 tails, which many persons have enjoyed and 
 and remembered with pleasure. 
 
 There are other rooms successively shown, 
 but none are so elegant and enticing as the 
 retiring room, which, at present, contains what 
 is called Queen Elizabeth's state bed, which 
 is curiously antique and imposing ; the fire- 
 place and mantel-piece are elaborately carved, 
 and the room completely fitted with Gobelin 
 tapestry, which is particularly fresh and of 
 a uniform classic design. This is possibly 
 the room that Scott had in mind when he 
 describes Julian and Alice as being in the gilded
 
 214 
 
 chamber, when a panel behind the arras was 
 suddenly opened, and the Countess of Derby 
 stepped into the room to the surprise and 
 terror of the alarmed and bewildered children. 
 We can people the apartment with those 
 images, and see the sudden start and hear 
 the shrill scream of the younger child at the 
 suddenness of the apparition, and gaze upon 
 the entrance, from opposite doorways, of Major 
 Bridgenorth and Lady Peveril to inquire into 
 the cause of alarm, and witness the consterna- 
 tion of the one and the joy of the other on 
 gazing upon a long lost but well-remembered 
 relative and friend. 
 
 On ascending by the winding stairs to the 
 giddy height of the Eagle tower, the eye ranged 
 far and wide over a beautiful country, and then 
 turned again to gaze with increasing interest 
 upon the roofs and courts of the castellated 
 mansion. Retracing our steps, the oratory of 
 Dorothy Vernon was pointed out, where she 
 was in the habit of retiring to watch from tha 
 oriel her fond lover's coming, and the spot 
 where they repaired for their stolen interviews, 
 and the door by which on a festal evening 
 the lady escaped " Into the night, and to the 
 arms of love." The father of Dorothy Vernon-
 
 215 
 
 was the last baronet of his race, and from- 
 his great possessions and boundless hospitality > 
 was usually called the " King of the Peak." 
 He had two daughters, with one of whom 
 (Dorothy Vernon,) Sir John Manners, the 
 second son of the Earl of Rutland, fell in. 
 love. Sir George Vernon, her father, however, 
 forbade the match, kept her under close 
 surveillance, and banished Sir John from her 
 presence. The tale of their loves is quite 
 a romance, and as "Love laughs at locksmiths, 
 bolts, and bars," so in this case a mode of 
 escape was found, and as it turned out, the 
 elopement was happier in its results than 
 most, as the faithful wife brought to her gallant 
 husband the Haddon and other estates of the 
 Vernon family, making him one of the richest 
 amongst the nobles of the land. 
 
 No notice of Haddon could be well complete 
 that did not make passing allusion to the 
 enormous kitchens, larders, and immense fire- 
 places near the inclined plane from the barons' 
 hall, showing that every provision was made 
 for extensive and hospitable entertainment ; 
 neither should we omit the balustraded ter- 
 race, the green and verdant lawn, the quiet 
 walk beneath the windows of the Elizabethan
 
 2l6 
 
 facade, the tall yews, the quaint clipped hedges, 
 and the sombre, narrow alleys, which memory 
 always associates with this ancient hall ; for 
 it is here that the genius of Scott has drawn 
 its inspiration, and peopled its precincts with 
 imaginary beings that breathe the breath of 
 life, and ever live in our remembrance when 
 Haddon Hall is named ; so also the painter, 
 with an imagination that can fully grasp and 
 realise the creations of romance, has limned in 
 glowing colours the magnificence of its ancient 
 state, and handed down to other ages and other 
 climes the matchless charms of this, the peer- 
 less relic of a great and far receding past. 
 
 We pass from Haddon, with all its towers and 
 turrets gilded with the sun's golden light, just 
 before he sinks beneath the glowing west, and 
 the picture is one of surpassing beauty, a pic- 
 ture worthy to be stereotyped upon the memory 
 so long as memory lasts. Whilst dreaming 
 sentimental dreams of Peveril of the Peak, 
 and imagining that the shades of the once 
 happy lovers may occasionally revisit their 
 former charming home, we are roused up to 
 things of earth again by the cracking of the 
 driver's whip as he gallantly presses his horses 
 forward to the Peacock Hotel at Rowsley.
 
 217 
 
 On entering its portals a peculiar odour of a 
 gastronomic kind proclaims that some persons 
 perchance are hungry, and that sentiment and 
 kindred things are well enough in their way, 
 and may at times be properly indulged in, but 
 in the opinion of philosophical persons the only 
 true appetiser to such enjoyment is to be 
 obtained by a hot, substantial dinner. As, 
 however, we rarely dwell upon matters of that 
 kind in a literary paper, and they are only as a 
 rule incidentally named, suffice it to say every 
 tourist was properly satisfied, and went by the 
 train rejoicing via Matlock to Ambergate. On 
 arrival at Sheffield an elegant and handsomely 
 fitted Pulman's car was chartered to Norman- 
 ton, and the party arrived safe in York, shortly 
 after ten o'clock, having thoroughly enjoyed 
 their two days' excursion to the grandest, 
 loveliest, and most romantic scenery in North 
 Derbyshire. 
 
 October ist, 1877.
 
 No. 13. 
 e Castle, Hetobitrtj!) Prtorg, anti Bglanti 
 
 Friday, the yth June, the members 
 of the York Tourist Society had the 
 first excursion of the season, and the programme, 
 consisting of a visit to the above-named places, 
 was of sufficient interest to induce a numerous 
 party to join it. The rendezvous was the 
 Black Swan Hotel, in Coney-street, and a 
 couple of waggonettes started shortly after 
 nine a.m. for a drive through the ancient forest 
 of Galtres, by way of Sutton and Huby, to 
 Crayke. The church, which is a very fine 
 structure of the time of Henry VII., was 
 inspected. It contains an ancient chancel 
 screen in carved oak, and the old pews, with 
 similar carvings, have been carefully preserved 
 by the late Archdeacon Churton, when he 
 restored and enlarged the church. Some mas- 
 sive oak chests are collected in the belfrey, and 
 a couple of defaced monuments, of a knight and
 
 219 
 
 lady, are also placed there, though a more suit- 
 able position for their exhibition and preserva- 
 tion could easily have been found within the 
 body of the church. The churchyard will always 
 be interesting to the lovers of the picturesque, 
 as from its position, on the highest point of 
 the hill of Crayke, one of the most extensive 
 views of the vale of York can be obtained. 
 Another association also will connect it with 
 one of the most learned and attached sons of 
 the Church of England, as there, beneath the 
 east window in the churchyard, peacefully lie 
 the remains of one who, as Rector of Crayke, 
 Archdeacon of Cleveland, and as poet, essayist, 
 and antiquarian, filled an important position 
 in the world of letters and of religion. A 
 simple inscription, on a chaste, white marble 
 tombstone records, that " Edward Churton,"" 
 Archdeacon of Cleveland, lies there. 
 
 The Castle of Crayke, which is on the north 
 of the church, was shortly after visited, and 
 the tourists were most courteously received by 
 Captain and Mrs. Wait, who reside at it. 
 The parish of Crayke was formerly part of the 
 county of Durham, and the castle was built 
 by, and was one of the residences of the Bishops 
 of the county Palatine. The present structure,
 
 220 
 
 which is in the Tudor style of architecture, 
 and built in the fifteenth century, is an oblong, 
 four storeys high, has turrets at the corners, 
 and is fully embattled, with its main front 
 looking to the west. The walls are six feet 
 thick, with deep, embayed windows, and the 
 rooms extend from front to the back without 
 intervening walls, so that the light penetrates 
 from both sides. The rooms are superbly and 
 handsomely fitted with carved furniture, and 
 decorated and ornamented with first - class 
 paintings, vases and antique china. Domestic 
 and other offices have been added in the 
 same uniform Tudor style, and the grounds 
 surrounding the castle and its steep slopes have 
 been laid out with artistic taste, the flower 
 beds being bright with colour, and the plants and 
 trees were in full and luxuriant foliage. The 
 -castle was a perfect gem, and the tourists 
 were much gratified by their inspection of its 
 contents and surroundings, and expressed their 
 obligations to Captain and Mrs. Wait for the 
 courtesy with which they had been received. 
 
 The drive from Crayke to Coxwold lay 
 through a fine, undulating country, past the 
 pretty village of Oulston, and along Newburgh 
 Park, with its magnificent oaks, elms, and
 
 221 
 
 beeches, overlooking the Vale of Mowbray and 
 the Hambleton Hills. The Fauconberg Arms 
 (decorated with a new sign, fully emblazoned 
 in honour of the recent visit of His Royal 
 Highness the Prince of Wales) was ultimately 
 reached, and after luncheon, the handsome 
 battlemented church of St. Michael, with its 
 fine, octagonal tower, received a visit from the 
 tourists. The chancel of the church was the 
 principal attraction, as it is the mausoleum 
 of a great historic family, whose monuments 
 are of a grand and striking character. The 
 oldest of them, bearing the date of 1606, 
 represents Sir William Bellasyse in armour, 
 his head resting upon his helmet, and his 
 hands folded. His lady is in a similar attitude. 
 A stag is at the knight's feet, and a lion at 
 the lady's. In the compartments of this altar 
 tomb are also the kneeling effigies of their 
 children. All the figures are coloured after 
 life. A curious inscription round the base 
 records that 
 
 " Thomas Browne did carve this tome, 
 Himself alone of Hesslewood stone." 
 
 The other monuments are exceedingly noble, 
 and represent the descendants of Sir William 
 as Viscounts and Earls Fauconberg, a title
 
 222 
 
 which became extinct in the early part of this 
 century, but which may possibly be revived 
 in the present possessor of the estate, Sir 
 G. 0. Wombwell, Bart., in whose veins 
 flows the blood of the Bellasyses. On the 
 south side of the chancel there is a marble 
 slab recording the death of Lord Adolphus 
 Fitzclarence, one of the sons of William IV., 
 who was a friend of the late Sir G. Wombwell, 
 who frequently visited and eventually died at 
 Newburgh, and immediately opposite, on the 
 north side, is a similar slab in memory of 
 Sir George. 
 
 No one can visit Coxwold without, of course, 
 paying a visit to the curious, old, picturesque 
 house called " Shandy Hall," from the fact 
 of its having been the residence of Lawrence 
 Sterne for seven years. The house bears 
 marks of having been altered since his time, 
 and an ancient gable and immense chimney 
 indicate its former state and its Tudor or 
 Elizabethan antiquity. Sterne, doubtless, here 
 had plenty of literary leisure, for within its 
 walls he wrote his amusing "Tristram Shandy" 
 and his exquisite " Sentimental Journey." 
 
 Newburgh Hall, the site of the ancient 
 Augustinian Priory, was the next attraction,
 
 223 
 
 but, unfortunately for the tourists, only a 
 portion of the mansion could be seen, as the 
 long picture gallery was closed for renovation 
 and decoration. The entrance hall, the dining 
 room, the white drawing rooms, the grand 
 staircase, and other apartments were inspected, 
 and were found to contain some splendid 
 pictures incidental of the siege of Troy, and 
 many other classical subjects, as well as a 
 great number of fine family portraits ; the two 
 most pleasing pictures in the collection being 
 the paternal and maternal grandmothers of 
 the present baronet, which were shown at the 
 Yorkshire Exhibition in 1866. Newburgh also 
 is rich in ancient porcelain and china, and in 
 antique carved oak cabinets. A valuable por- 
 trait of the daughter of Cromwell, who married 
 the first Viscount Fauconberg, is now exhibited 
 in the entrance hall, and Cromwell's saddle 
 and holsters, with his pistols, have been 
 temporarily removed from the saloon to the 
 staircase for the inspection of visitors. 
 
 After a walk round the gardens and a visit to 
 the stables, which are models of cleanliness, 
 well arranged and ventilated, and where the 
 .equine creation are much better housed than 
 the greater portion of the sons of Adam, the
 
 224 
 
 Fauconburg Arms was again visited, where 
 mine host set before the tourists a good, sub- 
 stantial dinner, in a room specially provided 
 for parties of this description. We think it is 
 only justice to Mr. Scurrto say he fully deserves 
 the patronage of the public, and that all visitors 
 to this interesting locality will find every 
 accommodation and good entertainment at the 
 Fauconburg Arms. 
 
 The concluding portion of the programme 
 contained a visit to the magnificent ruins of 
 Byland Abbey, which lie about two miles 
 northward, at the foot of the Hambletons, near 
 the wooded defile of Wass, which is in close 
 proximity to the Helmsley moors. After a smart 
 walk of half an hour the western front of the 
 abbey was reached, and impressed the tourists 
 with the former grandeur of this Cistercian 
 monastery. The principal ruins are those of 
 the church, but the western front is its most 
 important feature, having three doorways all 
 dissimilar, and an arcade of fine English pointed 
 lancets, with an immense rose or marigold 
 window over all, larger than the one in the 
 south transept of York Minster, and equally as 
 large as the great window in Lincoln Cathedral. 
 The ruins are much more extensive than at
 
 225 
 
 first sight they appear to be, as the whole of the 
 north side of the nave, the transept, and chancel 
 still remain, covered with dense masses of ivy. 
 The style of the abbey is Early English with 
 occasional traces of Norman, and it is a matter 
 of regret that so fine a specimen of ancient 
 architecture should have been allowed to perish. 
 On the Kilburn road is the outer gateway of the 
 abbey, and on the south side the cloisters and 
 chapter house can be traced, and an immense 
 mass of the foundations of the monastic build- 
 ings. The present abbey was built in the time 
 of Roger de Mowbray, the gallant crusader, 
 who gave the monks money and lands and 
 handsomely endowed it. In his old age he 
 retired and died here, and was buried in the 
 chapter house, with a sword carved on his 
 tomb. Major Stapylton is the possessor of 
 this property, and many relics have been 
 removed to his residence at Myton, amongst 
 others it is said the veritable tombstone of the 
 founder of the abbey, who from his great 
 possessions gave the name of the Vale of 
 Mowbray to this portion of his vast estates. 
 
 Some years ago it was reported a subscrip- 
 tion was about to be raised by the Yorkshire 
 Archaeological Society, in order to clear out 
 Q
 
 226 
 
 the immense mass of ruins and expose the 
 foundations in the same way as at Fountains; 
 but it appears the funds have not been forth- 
 coming, as nothing has yet been done. If at 
 some future time this improvement could be 
 effected, many discoveries of an important 
 character might be made, and a ground plan 
 of the abbey and its conventual buildings 
 would be obtained, so that by the aid of 
 the landscape gardener, and by judicious 
 planting, one of the loveliest spots in Yorkshire 
 could be formed, which from its easy distance 
 from Coxwold, would attract many visitors, 
 and make a comparatively little known example 
 of one of the finest forms of architecture, as 
 familiar to the pleasure seeker as it is to the 
 antiquarian. 
 
 It is somewhat remarkable that within the 
 range of six or seven miles, there should have 
 existed at the same period of time the three 
 monastic establishments of Rievaulx, Byland, 
 and Newburgh, all richly endowed with great 
 landed possessions. Doubtless they were 
 centres of civilization, as well as religion, and 
 effected a great work in their day. The abbeys 
 generally were the depositaries of learning, the 
 nurseries of infant art, and the progenitors of
 
 227 
 
 science. They fulfilled their mission in a wild 
 and lawless age, and giving peace and security 
 to all within the shadow of their walls, or 
 within sound of their church bells, materially 
 contributed to form the character of those 
 English institutions under which we at present 
 live, and which we so proudly cherish, so that 
 whilst we do not forget the good deeds of those 
 pioneers of civilization, may we also at the 
 same time make it our duty to piously guard 
 the relics they have left, and hand down to 
 future time the grand and unequalled .archi- 
 tecture of the monks of old. 
 After a chequered day of rain and sunshine 
 in visiting the remarkable historic places named 
 at the head of this paper, the return journey was 
 made by way of Husthwaite and Easingwold, 
 and the chariot wheels dragging heavily 
 York was again reached an hour before midnight. 
 
 June izth, 1878.
 
 MISCELLANEOUS. 
 
 No. 14. 
 Burton $ictuw allerg, 
 
 IpO those of our readers who appreciate 
 H the Fine Arts, or who are collectors 
 of modern pictures, the contents of Mr. Burton's 
 Gallery will be quite familiar, but the general 
 public are not so well aware that within a 
 distance of three miles from the city of York so 
 splendid a collection of art treasures is in 
 existence. 
 
 Since the Great International Exhibition of 
 1851, the taste for the collection of paintings 
 and the remuneration to artists has been 
 continually increasing, until it is not an 
 unfrequent event that at the great sales in 
 London, at Christie, Manson, and Woods, 
 almost fabulous prices are realised. An ex- 
 ample of Turner, Etty, or Gainsborough, a 
 Clarkson Stansfield, a Landseer, or a Cooper,
 
 22Q 
 
 has scores of buyers after it, and so the value 
 is indefinitely multiplied. It is not alone that 
 the houses of our nobility can now boast of 
 the possession of unrivalled collections of 
 pictures, but the villas and mansions of our 
 manufacturing and commercial princes are 
 replete with them, and the taste to possess 
 them has overspread the length and breadth 
 of the land. 
 
 By the route of Holgate, and the pleasant 
 undulating road to Boroughbridge, Poppleton 
 Villa is reached at the junction of the Acomb 
 and Poppleton roads. The visitors are ushered 
 into a gallery of considerable dimensions, well 
 lighted from the roof, and every available space 
 on the walls is covered by first-class examples 
 of English and foreign painters, while others for 
 which room cannot be found are reared three and 
 four deep at the sides on various parts of the 
 floor. As some of them graced the York 
 Exhibition of 1866, and several have been 
 previously described elsewhere, we shall content 
 ourselves by delineating very imperfectly some 
 six or seven paintings of great value, and of 
 considerable interest. 
 
 The picture to which our attention was 
 first invited is one by Dawson, an artist of
 
 230 
 
 considerable repute, and has been recently pur- 
 chased by Mr. Burton. It is a gallery picture of 
 "Port Madoc," North Wales, and is well and 
 boldly treated. The time is sunset at low 
 water, and the slanting beams are gracefully 
 thrown upon the rigging of the ships and the 
 slippery sands in an artistic manner. A lofty 
 hill, green with verdure, with a flagstaff on its 
 point of vantage, and a long pier beneath the 
 beetling cliff, fill up the background on the left, 
 whilst schooners, and masts, and sails, a 
 landing stage, and a vista of the town take up 
 the remainder of the canvas. The vessels are 
 well drawn, and the various subjects cleverly 
 treated, and altogether it must be pronounced 
 a masterly picture. It has been publicly 
 exhibited at Suffolk Street Gallery and at 
 Birmingham since leaving the artist's studio. 
 
 Another small cabinet picture recently 
 acquired is one of Turner's, evidently in his 
 early style, and graphically delineates the 
 "Wreck of the Minotaur." The wreck is on 
 her broadside, and masts and spars are athwart 
 the dark, tempestuous waves, which are every 
 moment threatening to sweep off the unhappy 
 creatures who are clinging desperately to the 
 shrouds and crosstrees in the hope of sustaining
 
 23* 
 
 life. The whole scene is wildly terrible and 
 awfully grand, and is characteristic of the great 
 painter. 
 
 The next picture is of grand proportions, and 
 one that must advance the reputation of Sir 
 John Gilbert, who stands in the front rank of 
 historical painters. Its interest is increased 
 by one great artist portraying an imaginary 
 incident in the life of another, and that other the 
 immortal Rembrandt. The scene is Rembrandt's 
 Studio Rembrandt painting the portrait of a 
 lady. The studio is of ample dimensions, 
 enriched with works of art and furniture 
 illustrative of the period, and a carved cabinet 
 laden with antiques and ornaments of a classical 
 character. The central figure is that of 
 Rembrandt, whose fine features glow with an 
 animated intelligence, and whose pose, palette 
 and brush in hand, before his easel, in a flowing 
 robe, is superb. Behind the artist, and watching 
 the development of the portrait, are three figures. 
 One a youth in crimson, and two elderly gentle- 
 men in black velvet dresses, the one seated and 
 the other resting his elbow on the cabinet. 
 They are fine figure specimens of this accom- 
 plished painter. The lady, who is elderly, and 
 from her costume appears to be a widow, sits
 
 232 
 
 sedately in a chair by a recess near a staircase, 
 and a younger lady is gracefully standing by her 
 side with her hand gently smoothing the fur of 
 the tippet of the sitter, whilst a child is at her 
 feet in total unconcern at what is going on, 
 entirely absorbed in turning over a volume of 
 sketches found upon the floor. The dresses of 
 the ladies are finely depicted, and the curtains 
 admitting the light are gracefully disposed. 
 The whole scene, the antique furniture, the costly 
 ornaments, the rapier, the hunting horn, the 
 figures and dresses charm and captivate the 
 eye, and impress one with the boldness, vigour, 
 and genius of the artist. 
 
 It is scarcely surprising that of late years the 
 works of Clarkson Stansfield have been in 
 great request, or that a nation "whose home is 
 on the deep" should appreciate and admire that 
 which reminds it so well of its national 
 supremacy. In this gallery, however, one of 
 the examples of Stansfield's which claims our 
 attention has a foreign origin, and is an 
 admirable view of the Dutch town and harbour 
 of " Dordtretch." The prominent objects on 
 the land are the windmills by the lagunes 
 stretching out seaward, the fine lofty houses 
 and warehouses facing the harbour, where the
 
 233 
 
 vessels are unloading, the bridge over the canal, 
 and the beautiful tower of the cathedral which 
 is the most prominent, and has architectural 
 features that add to the grandeur of the painting. 
 In the harbour are ships and schooners, a boat 
 drawing a raft with figures finely drawn, and 
 charmingly coloured. The whole scene is one 
 of quiet calm and beauty, the still lake-like 
 harbour glassing and reflecting everything upon 
 its bosom. 
 
 One of the gems of the collection and deserving 
 more than a passing notice, is one that is full 
 of character and exactly to the life. " Collecting 
 in the Scotch Kirk," by Phillip, is familiar to 
 many of our citizens from its having graced the 
 York Exhibition in 1866, where it attracted 
 great attention. The subject comes home to all, 
 and the way in which the painter illustrates it 
 shows a true knowledge of the world, and of 
 human nature. The " churchwarden " or 
 sidesman, with his long-handled collecting box, 
 and characteristic face and dress, the man in 
 spectacles intent upon his hymn book, with a 
 knowing unconsciousness of the collection going 
 on, the ancient lady cheerfully giving her mite, 
 the shrewd canny pater familias feeling in his 
 waistcoat pocket for the smallest silver coin,
 
 234 
 
 the fond mother assisting her timid child to 
 place a copper in the box, whilst a graceless 
 urchin, his head reclined upon his prayer book 
 stretches out his hand to intercept it, and the 
 clerk interested in nothing but his own melodi- 
 ous voice ; these tell their own tale, and are 
 graphically and harmoniously painted. The 
 whole picture has become more developed and 
 richer in tone since its first exhibition. 
 
 As our space is limited, the only picture we 
 can at present more particularly mention is one 
 painted in 1870, by Joseph Coomans, a French 
 artist, of great and deserved repute, and the sub- 
 ject has been deftly and delicately handled. The 
 scene is illustrative of Roman times, and makes 
 us familiar with the inner life of a noble Roman 
 family at one of the palaces at Pompeii. In the 
 interior of a handsome and lofty apartment 
 upon a gilded ottoman, is seated a Roman lady, 
 clad in a loose white robe, her left foot on a 
 stool, and her right resting upon a leopard's 
 skin spread upon the floor ; reclining upon the 
 skin is a beautiful ringleted naked female child 
 with a minature doll in one hand, and the other 
 hand stretched out to ward off a fearful apparition, 
 whilst a small dog behind the child is equally 
 alarmed. In front is the child's elder brother,
 
 235 
 
 clad in a yellow robe with a crimson shawl 
 thrown over him, holding a large bearded mask 
 before him to frighten his sister, and he is 
 laughing with delight at the child's terror. A 
 maiden, (perchance a slave), is holding a skein 
 of silk whilst her mistress is winding it off in 
 the usual manner, with one hand held up 
 slightly to reprove her son. The room opens 
 into an inner court, in which are plants and 
 flowers, and some exquisitely graceful fluted 
 pillars. Two classical marble tables, supported 
 by griffins, are the principal furnishing of the 
 apartment. Altogether, the white draped 
 figures, the marble furniture, the painted 
 walls, and the brilliant crimson and yellow 
 colours form a delightful contrast. This 
 charming picture is one that strikes the eye 
 and immeasurably pleases the imagination, and 
 once seen is not likely to be forgotten. 
 
 The gallery is rich in works by artists of 
 imperishable fame, and amongst them are 
 valuable paintings by Ward, Linnel, Cooper, 
 Herring, Faed, Frank Stone, Bough, Bright, 
 Moore, Etty, Pickersgill, Creswick, Holder, 
 and many others, each and all worthy of a 
 separate notice did time and space permit. 
 Suffice it to say that Cooper's great painting of
 
 236 
 
 " Canterbury Meadows," with his inimitable 
 sheep and cattle looking so real and so life-like, 
 is alone worthy of a visit. We feel satisfied an 
 afternoon at the " Burton " Picture Gallery is 
 a real treat, and we hope we may be the means 
 of inducing lovers of art who have not yet had 
 the good fortune to inspect it, to avail them- 
 selves of the first favourable opportunity, when 
 they will doubtless enjoy the same pleasure and 
 receive the same kind and courteous atten- 
 tion from the spirited owner, as was exhibited 
 yesterday to the writer of this notice and his 
 friend. * 
 
 May nth, 1875. 
 
 * The Lord Mayor (Alderman Rooke.)
 
 No. 15. 
 
 &0man Cftg Malt anto St. 
 Cijurdj. 
 
 is the age of change, when modern 
 requirements or improvements frequently 
 swallow up, or scarcely leave a vestige of the 
 memorials of the past, so that frequently we 
 have to rely upon tradition or accidental dis- 
 covery for the sites of remarkable buildings 
 illustrative of historical or social events in the 
 history of our country, or of matters of local 
 interest to the city of York. Whatever opinions 
 may have been held by historians and others as 
 to the antiquity and former grandeur of Roman 
 Eboracum, whether those views have been 
 highly coloured and exaggerated in the state- 
 ments so frequently made, that in the times of 
 Severus and Constantine, York was " Altera 
 Roma," or another Rome, we have still 
 sufficient evidence that it was its most im- 
 portant stronghold, and the capital city of the
 
 238 
 
 imperial power in Britian. It is scarcely 
 surprising, considering the lapse of time and the 
 vicissitudes and changes that naturally would 
 occur from the departure of the Romans, that 
 few remains of their former occupation are to 
 be found above the surface of the ground ; what 
 with the ruthless contention of the Saxon and 
 the Dane, the destruction by fire and sword at 
 the Norman Conquest, and the devastations of 
 ambition and civil war, the city has been 
 frequently destroyed, but ever, Phcenix-like, has 
 again arisen from its ashes ; so that the York 
 of the present can vie with its palmiest days of 
 the past, and its historic fame, its fortified walls 
 and matchless minster are still the pride of its 
 citizens, and the admiration of the intelligent 
 tourist or stranger from far distant climes. 
 
 If little beyond the multangular tower, and a 
 few scattered remnants of the Roman wall are 
 now to be seen, we have the knowledge that 
 beneath the present surface of its streets and 
 houses, dig almost where you will, altars, 
 tombs, urns', tesserae, ornaments, pottery, 
 weapons, and coins are constantly met with, 
 and that Roman York, like Homerian Troy, 
 may be found beneath the ruins of successive 
 cities. The Philosophical Society's Museum
 
 239 
 
 contains an unequalled collection of Roman 
 remains which have been discovered at various 
 times, and has been greatly enriched of late 
 years by the discovery of villas, baths, and 
 interments, and more particularly by the ex- 
 cavations consequent upon the making of the 
 new lines, and the erection of the magnificent 
 hotel and railway station, which add another 
 glory to the imperial city. Still, it is a matter 
 of regret that many important and valuable 
 treasures remain in the . hands of private 
 persons, or are located in public collections in 
 various places having no connection with the 
 city of York, and some even that have been 
 recorded and described, have mysteriously 
 disappeared, and cannot be traced. 
 
 By those who are conversant with plans and 
 maps giving an outline of the original Roman 
 fortifications of their camp at York, it has 
 generally been understood that a part of the 
 present wall of the north-east side of the city is 
 built upon the Roman wall or is immediately 
 contiguous thereto, as may be seen near the 
 multangular tower and also in the vicinity of 
 Monk Bar. It is supposed to have been nearly 
 a square with towers at the angles, and enclosed 
 a more considerable space than is seen at
 
 240 
 
 Isurium, the modern Aldbro', near Borough- 
 bridge. Commencing with the multangular 
 tower, it proceeded through Lendal and Coney 
 Street to Market Street (the ancient Jubbergate 
 or Jew's Gate) where there was a similar tower 
 in the angle ; from thence to Aldwark, opposite 
 to Barker Hill, enclosing in that direction the 
 Imperial Roman Palace ; continuing from 
 thence to Monk and Bootham Bars, and so on 
 to the multangular tower. It is also supposed 
 that the principal entrance was from the south, 
 by way of Tanner Row, over a bridge near the 
 Guildhall, and that the present street of Stone- 
 gate ran through the centre of the camp. As 
 York increased in population, it is said that the 
 wall was continued from Coney Street, through 
 Castlegate, to the Foss, which became the 
 boundary on the east of the city, and that the 
 south side ultimately was also fortified during 
 the Roman occupation. At all events the 
 south side has furnished a very large proportion 
 of the collection in the Museum, and it is 
 scarcely likely during their presence here for a 
 period of nearly 500 years, they would have left 
 the residences of their chief Roman families, 
 which were undoubtedly there, defenceless or 
 unfortified.
 
 241 
 
 At various times, the foundations of the wall 
 in Lendal, St. Helen's Square, and Coney 
 Street have been discovered, and it was hoped 
 the other day, on the removal of the late Messrs. 
 Seymour's offices in Lendal, prior to re- 
 building, some further traces of it might be 
 found, but unfortunately, the excavation has 
 not proceeded exactly in the line in which it was 
 supposed to be. In the adjoining premises, 
 beneath the steps of the Judges' House, there 
 are several courses of stonework, which ex- 
 perienced antiquarians have pronounced to be 
 part of the Roman wall, and as it is in a line 
 with the multangular tower, there is every 
 probability such is the fact ; but it would have 
 been more satisfactory if the excavation on 
 Messrs. Seymour's premises had proceeded two 
 yards further, as the continuation of it would 
 possibly have been found. At the back and 
 beyond the space dug out, a singular wall 
 will be noticed, * built partly of stone and 
 partly of brick, the lower courses having an 
 ancient appearance, and on the outside, facing 
 the steps of the Judges' House, are tiles 
 
 * This wall has since been removed, and many sculptured 
 stones have been found there and in the excavations. 
 K
 
 242 
 
 between the stones similar to those frequently 
 seen in Roman work, though whether it is of 
 Roman formation, or built out of the ruins of 
 the Roman wall, or from the neighbouring 
 dismantled church of St. Wilfrid, which may 
 have been partly built of Roman materials from 
 the wall, cannot now be determined ; still a 
 good opportunity presents itself for Canon 
 Raine or Mr. Noble, the secretary of the 
 Philosophical Society, to investigate and search 
 for the supposed Roman fortifications. 
 
 The site of the present Judges' House was 
 formerly the churchyard of St. Wilfrid's, which 
 stood facing Blake Street, where a Major 
 Wyvil built a house now occupied by Messrs. 
 Richardson, Gutch, and Cowling, the Judges' 
 House in Lendal being built by Dr. Winter- 
 ingham, a celebrated physician of the last 
 century. The church of St. Wilfrid had a 
 remarkable history, and dates back to Saxon 
 times, as it is mentioned in Doomsday Book as 
 being in existence prior to the Conquest. The 
 church was afterwards given by Richard, son 
 of Fin, to St. Mary's Abbey, which had the 
 patronage and received the annual pension of 
 half a mark from the rector. In the reign of 
 Henry V. there were no less than 42 churches
 
 243 
 
 in York, besides sundry chapels, chantries, and 
 monasteries, the revenue of St. Wilfrid's was 
 returned of the annual value of 5, the most 
 important being St. Olave's, which was of the 
 value of "24. After the dissolution of 
 the monasteries, chantries, chapels, and 
 hospitals, by Henry VIII., the condition of 
 York became deplorable, through the great 
 wealth of these institutions being diverted into 
 other channels, and by numbers of people being 
 deprived of their subsistence, and thrown upon 
 the charity of the citizens. York, having 
 previously been the abode of wealthy bankers 
 and merchants, each having their guilds, as in 
 London at the present day, and the great centre 
 of trade for the northern counties, in conse- 
 quence of these changes became greatly im- 
 poverished ; its commerce decayed, and the 
 revenues of the churches diminished to such an 
 extent that few priests were found who would 
 undertake the charge, and ignorance and irre- 
 ligion consequently prevailed, so that by an 
 Act in the first year of Edward VI. 19 churches 
 were ordered to be demolished and the parishes 
 joined to others in their immediate locality. 
 This Act, however, was not entirely carried 
 out until the twenty-eighth year of Elizabeth,
 
 244 
 
 when a commission, consisting of the Arch- 
 bishop, the Lord Mayor, and six Aldermen 
 completed it. 
 
 The church of St. Wilfrid was consequently 
 dismantled, and its site afterwards sold, the 
 parish being joined to St. Michael-le-Belfrey. 
 Of the nineteen churches, only one escaped 
 destruction, viz., St. Maurice, Monkgate, 
 though it has since disappeared to make way 
 for the handsome edifice now approaching 
 completion, which is a credit to Mr. Fisher, 
 the architect, and will be a great ornament to 
 that part of the city. Another church that of 
 St. Helen's was abolished, but was subse- 
 quently rebuilt by the parishioners in the reign of 
 Queen Mary, and falling into decay has latterly 
 had effected a complete restoration of its western 
 front. With regard to St. Wilfrid's there was 
 a proviso that "if ever the parishioners think 
 fit to rebuild their church the parish should 
 remain as before," a stipulation that is yet 
 unaccomplished, and will probably continue so, 
 as the Roman Catholics have erected a very 
 handsome pro-Cathedral Church and called it 
 after St. Wilfrid. 
 
 In this church was founded a chantry at the 
 altar of St. Mary, for the soul of Nicholas
 
 245 
 
 Flemming,' who was Mayor of York seven 
 limes, and was killed at the battle of Myton by 
 the Scots in 1319, and here buried. His widow, 
 nine days after the battle, took an oath of 
 chastity at the hands of Wm. de Melton, 
 Archbishop of York, within the chapel of his 
 manor of Thorpe. 
 
 This battle occurred in the reign of King 
 Edward II., who was most unfortunate in his 
 wars with the Scots, and suffered a disastrous 
 defeat at the hands of King Robert the Bruce, 
 at the battle of Bannockburn. Edward for 
 :some years smarted under his defeat, and during 
 the absence of Bruce in Ireland took advantage 
 of it in order to have his revenge. Edward got 
 an army together and set out to besiege 
 Berwick, when the Scottish general, the Earl of 
 Murray, marched another way into England, 
 which he wasted with fire and sword to the 
 very gates of York, and, after burning and 
 destroying the surburbs, proceeded leisurely 
 back towards his own country. The Archbishop 
 of York and the Bishop of Ely, who was Lord 
 Chancellor, hastily gathered together a nonde- 
 script army composed of tradesmen and 
 labourers, clergymen, monks and canons, the 
 latter said by Hollingshead to be- " much fitter
 
 246 
 
 to pray for the success of a battle than to fight 
 it." This undisciplined army rapidly followed 
 the enemy and overtook him at Myton-upon- 
 Swale. The Scottish army drew up on the other 
 side of the river awaiting the attack, and as the 
 English waded across the ford, set fire to some 
 hay stacks which so blinded them that they 
 could not see the Scots, who, being in good 
 order, completely routed them with great 
 slaughter. Accounts differ as to the number 
 slain or drowned, which has been variously 
 stated at 2,000 to 4,000 men. In this battle 
 the said Nicholas Flemming, the Mayor of 
 York, fell at the head of his citizens, and there 
 was so great a slaughter of priests and monks 
 that the Archbishop had great difficulty in fill- 
 ing up the church and monastic vacancies on his 
 return to the city. The battle was called the 
 White Battle by the Scots in consequence of so 
 many of the religious orders being slain at it. 
 
 The Archbishop had the Mayor honourably 
 buried in the church of St. Wilfrid, and granted 
 an indulgence of forty days relaxation of sin to 
 all parishioners thereof, who being duly contrite, 
 penitent, and confessed, should say for his soul 
 the Lord's Prayer and the Salutation of the 
 Blessed Virgin.
 
 247 
 
 As this was a considerable parish, and 
 evidently inhabited by persons of position, there 
 would certainly be many monuments worthy of 
 preservation. The question is what has become 
 of the memorials of Nicholas le Flemming and 
 other worthies interred in the church ? The 
 probability is they have been destroyed, and 
 suffered the usual fate that has befallen many 
 records of the greatness of the past, through 
 the ignorance and fanaticism of a by-gone age ; 
 and so in the same manner have Roman palaces 
 and temples disappeared, and the walls for so 
 many centuries defended by the cohorts of the 
 6th and gth legions of Imperial Rome, are now 
 so utterly undistinguished and forgotten that 
 they are only revealed occasionally to those who 
 patiently labour in the interests of archaeology, 
 and who take a pleasure in illustrating and 
 illumining the dim shadows of a remote 
 antiquity. 
 
 July ^th, 1877.
 
 No. 16. 
 Sastern 
 
 An Address delivered to the Members of the York Conservative 
 Association, on Wednesday, May Sth, 1878. 
 
 CAVING been requested by the committee 
 of the York Conservative Association 
 to give an address on the conclusion of its 
 periodical meetings this session, I have chosen 
 the " Eastern Question " as the most fitting, in- 
 asmuch as it is the most important and eventful 
 that has arisen in the life-time of this generation, 
 and one that is at present engrossing the atten- 
 tion of the responsible Ministers of the Crown, 
 who are fully impressed with the gravity of the 
 situation, and upon whose decision, whether for 
 peace or for war, the entire nation is anxiously 
 and expectantly waiting ; having every con- 
 fidence that the honour and fortunes of England, 
 and the interests of the empire, may be safely 
 committed to the hands of those who have 
 hitherto so patiently and patriotically guided 
 its destinies under the leadership of our illus- 
 trious chief Lord Beaconsfield.
 
 249 
 
 The time allotted for the consideration of 
 this question being necessarily brief, it will 
 only be possible to give a faint outline of its 
 origin, to trace to some extent the operations 
 of the Russo-Turkish war, to notice the terri- 
 torial and political changes proposed to be 
 effected by the Treaty of San Stefano, and 
 the duty imposed upon England and other 
 European Powers with regard to Russian 
 pretensions in tearing up the Treaty of Paris. 
 
 The Turkish Empire has occupied a remark- 
 able position in the history of states, many 
 of its provinces and cities being famous, and 
 in classic times, 
 
 " In arms, and arts, and faith supremely great." * 
 
 It has been illustrious in its grandeur, and 
 has succeeded to an heritage of dynasties and 
 dominions long since passed away, but whose 
 glories and historic memories will live as long 
 as language, law, and civilization continue 
 their beneficent influences for the amelioration 
 of mankind. The same causes that operated 
 in their fall and destruction are still in action, 
 and another mighty empire appears to be on 
 
 * "Italy," a Sonnet, by the Town Clerk.
 
 250 
 
 the verge of dissolution, fulfilling the law of 
 destiny, and adding its name to the long 
 catalogue of perished power. Those mutations 
 are most graphically illustrated by Lord Byron, 
 in comparing the "unchangeable sea" with 
 the instability of empires : 
 
 " Thy shores are empires, changed in all save thee. 
 Assyria, Greece, Rome, Carthage, what are they ? 
 
 Thy waters washed them power while they were free,. 
 And many a tyrant since ; their shores obey 
 
 The stranger, slave, or savage ; their decay 
 Has dried up realms to deserts : not so thou ; 
 
 Unchangeable save to thy wild wave's play 
 Time writes no wrinkles on thine azure brow 
 Such as creation's dawn beheld, thou rollest now." 
 
 A very remarkable feature also is associated 
 with one portion of the Turkish territory, as 
 containing within itself, on the confines of Asia, 
 Jerusalem and Mecca so intimately associated 
 with Christianity and Mohammedanism, whose 
 opposing influences have desolated for centuries 
 many of the countries of the East, and have 
 now again, in the late struggle, been used for 
 the furtherance of ambition and of autocratic 
 despotism. 
 
 * Lord Byron's "Childe Harold," 182nd Stanza, 4th Canto.
 
 251 
 
 On the disruption of the unwieldly Roman 
 Empire into two parts the west being seated 
 at Rome, and the east having Constantinople 
 for its capital the successors of the Caesars 
 for centuries ruled over many a fair and classic 
 clime, and the Mediterranean was the highway 
 of the world to convey the riches of the Orient 
 to less fruitful and less favoured countries ; 
 but with the birth of Mahomet and the spread 
 of his religion, the whole face of things was 
 changed in, the then known three-quarters of 
 the globe. As the Turk believed in the propa- 
 gation of his religion by the sword, and as 
 the commands of the Prophet were imperative 
 that the infidel should be converted by com- 
 pulsory means, the greater part of Asia was 
 rapidly over-run, and the faith of Mahomet 
 prevailed. The African continent also felt 
 the full force of this religious and military 
 movement, and the Moors, from Tunis and 
 Algeria, overthrew the Gothic kingdom in 
 Spain, and established themselves there for 
 a long period with Grenada for their capital ; 
 their language, manners, and costume still 
 influencing, to a great extent, the inhabitants 
 of the western peninsula. After the capture 
 of Constantinople, the seizure of Greece, and
 
 252 
 
 the subjugation of the provinces of the Danube, 
 terrified Europe seemed almost at their mercy, 
 when their further progress was arrested by the 
 heroic Matthias Corvinas on the plains of 
 Hungary, and the tide of conquest was stayed. 
 When we consider the immense extent of 
 the original Turkish Empire, the energy with 
 which it was developed, and the great variety 
 of its subject races, one can easily understand 
 that the successors of Mahomet ought to 
 have been endowed with supernatural wisdom 
 in order to have successfully governed such a 
 mass of heterogeneous states. The Turks, 
 though naturally indolent, are to all intents 
 and purposes a brave and martial race, but one 
 part of their policy has weakened their power 
 and has assisted in their overthrow in all 
 recent wars. The wise Roman maxim of using 
 conquered nations in the subjugation of others, 
 in repelling invasions, or in putting down 
 rebellion in one part of the empire with 
 legionaries drawn from another, has not been 
 carried out by her, the whole military service 
 of the state having been performed by the 
 dominant race, those professing the Christian 
 .and other religions being rigorously excluded. 
 This unwise policy, more than any other, has
 
 253 
 
 evidently had a tendency to weaken the empire, 
 as only a portion of its subjects however 
 great the emergency and danger could ever 
 be called out for its defence. Another source 
 of weakness has also arisen from the extent 
 of their territories, the variety and want of 
 cohesion of the different races, the parcelling 
 of the provinces into so many Pashalics, the 
 oppression and misrule of their various govern- 
 ors, and the entire absence of representative 
 and responsible government. During the last 
 century its disintegration has been gradually 
 going on, and Barbary, Algiers, Tunis, Egypt, 
 Greece, Servia, and Roumania have been either 
 entirely severed, or have obtained a state of 
 semi-independence. The progress in civilization, 
 wealth, and power of the great European States 
 has also had a tendency to impair its import- 
 ance, and the shock of war has eventually 
 weakened and overturned the great empire estab- 
 lished by the victorious Sultan, Mahomet II., 
 in the fifteenth century. 
 
 When this empire was at the height of its 
 prosperity, there existed in the cold and barren 
 regions of the north-east of Europe a barbaric 
 people, little known and less thought of, whose 
 occupation was principally the chase, combined
 
 254 
 
 with the rudest agriculture, and where the 
 principle of slavery was carried out in its most 
 repulsive form, the people being little better in 
 social condition than the animals with whom 
 they herded. During many centuries this 
 ancient Scythia remained without cohesion, 
 until Peter the Great, who, from the experience 
 he had gained in this country and in other 
 lands, formed the idea, and carried it into 
 execution, of combining in one great State the 
 loose elements of European and Asiatic chaos. 
 From his reign to the present time there has 
 been a constant effort to expand, and what with 
 fraud, craft, and violence, the empire of Russia 
 within the last century has more than doubled, 
 some of the fairest provinces of other states 
 having become subject to her sway. The 
 alleged will of Peter the Great, recommending 
 a course of policy and action certain to result 
 in the extinction of Turkey and the seating of 
 the Russian power at Constantinople, has had 
 great influence on the passions of its rulers, 
 and has also, by a gradual process of conquest 
 and usurpation, very nearly brought about its 
 fulfilment. Azof, Astrakan, Georgia, the Cau- 
 casus, a portion of Armenia, the Crimea, 
 Kherson, and Bessarabia have been some of the
 
 255 
 
 fruits of war, waged on some convenient pretext 
 or other with Turkey ; whilst the kingdom of 
 Poland and the States of Central Asia, to the 
 "borders of India and China, have also been 
 absorbed by this voracious and aggressive 
 power, till the world almost stands in awe of 
 the barbaric Colossus of the North. 
 
 For a long period Russia has been constantly 
 intriguing in the affairs of the. Turkish provinces 
 in Europe, and owing to the bulk of the 
 inhabitants being co-religionists with her and 
 members of the Greek church, she has made 
 them discontented with Turkish rule, and 
 encouraged commotion and revolt. The result 
 has been that Servia and Roumania have been 
 nominally independent, but entirely under the 
 influence of Russia. The Crimean war of 1855 
 and 1856 was owing to the aggressive policy of 
 Russia, who thought the time had arrived for 
 entering upon the inheritance bequeathed by 
 Peter the Great, and that other nations would 
 not interfere to prevent it. The Emperor 
 Nicholas, however, miscalculated the resistance 
 that Western Europe would offer to his 
 ambition. England, France, and Italy were 
 roused from commercial apathy, their ancient 
 martial spirit revived, and the world was
 
 256 
 
 astounded at the feats of arms of the Allies at 
 Alma, Inkerman, Balaclava, and Sebastopol, 
 where the pride of Russia was laid low, and 
 resulted in the Treaty of Paris, which curbed 
 and restrained the Northern aggressor. Turkey, 
 in the meantime, was assured a continuance of 
 existence, and undertook to carry out reforms 
 in the interests of its Christian subjects, but, 
 owing to the inherent faults of its government 
 and its policy, it has been a disastrous failure. 
 France and Germany, unfortunately, in 1871 
 resolved upon a trial of strength, and the hatreds 
 of years resulted in a collapse of the military 
 power of France, which has disturbed the 
 balance of power, and given to Germany a 
 preponderating influence in Central Europe. 
 Russia, watching her opportunity, and seeing 
 two great empires exhausted after their deadly 
 struggle for mastery, demanded of the signatory 
 powers a revision of the Treaty of Paris for her 
 own benefit, which the Gladstonian government 
 of this country most humiliatingly conceded, 
 thus rendering abortive the blood and treasure 
 so liberally spilled and spent in the Crimean 
 war. The exhaustion of France, the conniv- 
 ing of Germany, and the pusillanimity of 
 the Gladstone Administration so encouraged
 
 257 
 
 Russian ambition, that the aim of that country 
 since 1871 has been to tear up the Treaty of 
 Paris, and to carry out the programme she 
 intended to fulfil in 1855. In consequence of 
 that determination she gradually increased the 
 strength of her armies, and became a constant 
 borrower on the Stock Exchanges of Europe in 
 order to develope her railway communications, 
 so as to be able to concentrate and provision 
 her troops in the contemplated war. Turkey 
 also, knowing that her enemy was prepared to 
 pick a quarrel with her the first convenient 
 opportunity, raised large sums in England to 
 increase her sea and land forces, and to 
 strengthen her fortresses, so that she might bear 
 the shock of war when it should come. The 
 border lands of the Danube, from the times of the 
 Romans, have been the battle grounds of 
 contending armies, and it was there the great 
 Emperor Severus obtained his first experience 
 in war, as has been recorded of him by the poet 
 in his conflict with Julian : 
 
 " But lo ! thy rival comes ; inured to war, 
 And stirring conflict, battle's wild career ; 
 Where the broad Danube rolls his stream afar, 
 The fierce barbarian heard his name with fear ; 
 Strong in his hand to hurl the deadly spear ; 
 s
 
 258 
 
 Finn and relentless is his purpose known, 
 And they who bar his progress, or who dare 
 Dispute his title to the Imperial throne, 
 Swift as the lightning's flash, are conquered and 
 o'erthrown." * 
 
 The fortresses of the Quadrilateral and the 
 passes of the Balkans are obstacles, in the 
 hands of a numerous and well-disciplined army, 
 sufficient to bar the progress even of the legions 
 of Russia ; but treachery, indolence, and incom- 
 petency on the part of the Turkish commanders 
 have frequently assisted Russia in obtaining 
 victories, where, under other circumstances, 
 nothing but defeat and disaster would have 
 been the result. Russia, seeing that the hands of 
 France and Germany were tied, and imagining 
 that England, without allies, would never again 
 strike a blow for the independence of Turkey, 
 carried out her usual policy by fomenting dis- 
 turbances in Bosnia and Herzegovina, and 
 ultimately induced Servia also to engage in 
 rebellion. The Turkish troops were eventually 
 getting the upper hand and advancing on 
 Belgrade, when Russian emissaries caused a 
 diversion in their rear in order to distract their 
 
 ""Severus," 13th Stanza.
 
 259 
 
 attention, and the result was a rising of the 
 Bulgarian population and a massacre of the 
 Turks. The Turks, taken by surprise and 
 immeasurably alarmed, their regular forces 
 being engaged on the Servian borders, sum- 
 moned some undisciplined and hastily raised 
 levies to put down the insurrection, who retalia- 
 ted upon the Bulgarians, and those dreadful 
 massacres took place which filled civilized Europe 
 with horror. The excitement in England 
 caused by the revelations of the correspondent 
 of the Daily News, and the "Atrocity" meetings 
 got up by Mr. Gladstone and his adherents 
 against the Turks and against the British 
 Government, excited the nation to frenzy, and 
 gave encouragement to Russia. The failure of 
 the Vienna and Berlin notes, and the subsequent 
 failure of the Conference of Constantinople to 
 inveigle England into joining Russia to break 
 up the power of Turkey, and so assist the 
 Russian designs, has been vainly used by the 
 opponents of the ministry as conducing to 
 the war ; but the resolve of Russia to impose 
 humiliating terms upon Turkey, to which no 
 nation having a spark of independence could 
 submit, the concentrating of a numerous and 
 well-equipped army upon the Pruth, and the
 
 260 
 
 encouragement given to Russia by an extreme 
 portion of a great political party in this 
 country to give the finishing stroke to a 
 barbarous and effete power, these are mainly 
 responsible (and not the Conservative Cabinet) 
 for the evils and misfortunes of the Russo- 
 Turkish war 1 . 
 
 On Turkey declining to hand over to a foreign 
 commission the government of her provinces, 
 or to abdicate her position as a sovereign power, 
 she, however, at the same time solemnly under- 
 took to grant all reasonable reforms, and to 
 summon a National Parliament representing 
 every province and every race, and to make all 
 persons and all creeds equal before the law. 
 But the better government of the provinces, the 
 reform of abuses, the contentment of the people, 
 and giving them a voice in the administration of 
 their country, did not suit the designs of Russia. 
 If Turkey became strong and united, what 
 would become of the aims and ambition of 
 Russia ? There could not possibly be any 
 honest motive in detaching a province, and the 
 possession of Constantinople would remain an 
 unfulfilled dream ; so, on the withdrawal of the 
 Ambassadors of the Powers, Russia declared 
 war, and her immense army crossed the Pruth
 
 26l 
 
 into the protected State of Roumania, using it 
 as Russian territory, and so commenced that 
 march to the Danube which has brought 
 England and Russia face to face at Constanti- 
 nople the Imperial robber clutching his prey, 
 whilst the judge and the avenger threatens to 
 strike if he does not release his hold of the 
 victim of his lust, and disgorge the plunder he 
 has obtained at the point of the bayonet. 
 
 As the events of the war are so recent, it will 
 only be necessary now to refer to results, with- 
 out dwelling upon each particular feat of arms, 
 in which the Russians were not uniformly 
 successful. It had been expected from the 
 formidable army Russia poured over the Danube, 
 provided with the best of modern weapons, a 
 numerous cavalry, and an effective artillery, 
 that no efficient Turkish force could successfully 
 oppose it, and that it would be merely a pro- 
 menade to Constantinople, which would be 
 reached before the autumn ; but these calcu- 
 lations were entirely falsified. Notwithstanding 
 the faults of the Turkish commander in not 
 occupying the line of the Danube in sufficient 
 force so as to be able to be within striking 
 distance, and crush the enemy whereever he 
 might land, before he could establish himself
 
 262 
 
 strongly upon its southern bank ; and his subse- 
 quent fault in not properly securing the Shipka, 
 and other passes in the Balkan Range, the 
 Russian advance was exceedingly slow, though 
 the resistance was feeble, and the want of 
 energy and enterprise on the part of the Turkish 
 General was notorious. But now occurred the 
 only redeeming feature of the war, in Osman 
 Pasha's two defeats of the choicest troops of 
 the invader, and his heroic defence of Plevna. 
 Here, for months, in a position not naturally 
 strong, not defended by forts or an immense 
 park of artillery, but simply trenched and lined 
 with riflemen, these gallant soldiers withstood 
 every assault, and notwithstanding the desperate 
 attempts of the Russian and Roumanian armies, 
 famine, and not arms, was their final vanquisher. 
 Whatever may be the ultimate consequences of. 
 the war, whether the " unspeakable Turk " shall 
 be driven out of Europe, and the Empire of the 
 Osmanli's shall perish, or it shall be re-in- 
 vigorated with renewed life ; the tale of Plevna,, 
 and its hero, shall be handed down to future- 
 times, as one of the greatest feats of warfare, 
 and as the lasting monument of the gallantry 
 and endurance of a once great and conquering 
 race.
 
 263 
 
 With the fall of Plevna the Turkish power of 
 defence was completely broken, its armies were 
 dispersed, and Sophia, Kesanlik, and Adrianople 
 were successively occupied, and Constantinople 
 seriously threatened. A truce was agreed upon, 
 lines of demarcation were settled, and as all 
 was lost, and Turkey had no friends, she was 
 completely at the mercy of Russia, and the 
 monstrous Treaty of San Stefano was signed by 
 the two belligerents, the terms of which, if 
 carried out, mean, as Mr. Layard justly tele- 
 graphed, the destruction of the Turkish power 
 in Europe. 
 
 During the time the terms of the Treaty were 
 being arranged, the Russian troops passed the 
 lines of demarcation, and were encamped a few 
 miles off Constantinople, as well as in the 
 neighbourhood of Gallipoli. As this amounted 
 to a menace to England against interfering with 
 Russia's disposal of Turkey, the British fleet 
 was ordered to pass the Dardanelles and proceed 
 into the Sea of Marmora towards Constanti- 
 nople; at the same time Parliament was asked 
 for a credit of 6,000,000, in order to place our 
 army and navy in an efficient state, should the 
 obstinacy and duplicity of Russia compel Eng- 
 land reluctantly to draw the sword in defence
 
 264 
 
 of British interests, the balance of power, and 
 the obligations of treaties. 
 
 The object of Russia in carrying on secret 
 negotiations with Turkey, the monstrous 
 demands with which the latter has complied, 
 and Russia's reluctance to make public the 
 treaty until after its ratification, all point to her 
 determination to evade the obligations of the 
 Treaty of Paris, and simply act on the law of 
 the conqueror, and in defiance of England and 
 the other European Powers. This conduct was 
 openly justified and it was even asserted by the 
 friends of Russia that no one had a right to 
 interfere with her from recouping herself for the 
 sacrifices she had made in being compelled to go 
 to war. The Treaty of Peace is a sad com- 
 mentary on the original declaration of war, 
 which recounted the misdeeds of Turkey in her 
 oppression of her Christian subjects, and her 
 repeated failure to comply with the engagements 
 she had entered into by the Treaty of Paris. 
 Russia stated how she intended to redress those 
 grievances, and asserted that her motives were 
 those of the purest philanthropy, and that she 
 neither desired indemnities nor territory as com- 
 pensation for fulfilling her Christian mission. 
 But alasfor human frailty; the gift of lying, or the
 
 265 
 
 sin of temptation was too great for the resist- 
 ance of this humane redressor of grievances in 
 other people's territories, who shuts her own 
 ears to the groans of an oppressed Poland, and 
 whose reward for those who express a desire for 
 liberty and constitutional government at home, 
 is the universal knout, and an enforced trip at 
 the expense of the victim to the wilds and the 
 mines of Siberia. 
 
 The war was no sooner over, and the Treaty 
 of Peace signed, when the difficulties of Russia 
 at once commenced. Her conquests had been 
 complete both in Europe and Asia, and the 
 conditions she had imposed upon her prostrate 
 enemy, for the payment of money and territory, 
 had been so exacting that they were indignantly 
 reprobated by Europe. The English Cabinet 
 at once insisted upon the Treaty being sub- 
 mitted to a Congress of the signatories of the 
 Treaty of Paris, as it so affected that instrument 
 as to make it completely worthless. To this 
 Russia demurred, and proposed to submit 
 those parts only for discussion which more 
 particularly affected European interests, and 
 secretly endeavoured to detach Austria from 
 any alliance with England by offering to modify 
 the Treaty for her advantage. The British
 
 266 
 
 Government, however, insisted upon the obli- 
 gations of the Treaty of Paris being performed 
 by Russia, and called out its reserves and 
 reinforced the Mediterranean fleet. This 
 was quickly followed by the admirable 
 circular despatch of Lord Salisbury's, which 
 clearly showed how the Treaty of San Stefano 
 would operate in the interests of Russia, and 
 place the semi-independent provinces and the 
 whole Empire of Turkey at her feet. Russia, 
 since she has seen that the English' Govern- 
 ment and the English people are determined 
 by force of arms, if need be, to prevent the 
 absorption of Turkey, has tried all kinds of 
 expedients and diplomatic stratagems to carry 
 out her programme, but hitherto without effect. 
 The honesty and wisdom of the policy of the 
 Government of England is fully approved 
 by the masses of our countrymen, and the 
 determination, in the event of being forced 
 into war, to use the native troops of our 
 Indian Empire has given the greatest 
 satisfaction to those who have a pride 
 in the extent of our dominions and the great- 
 ness of our power, and will give a prestige 
 and a glory to that Imperial Throne upon 
 whose possessions the sun never sets, and
 
 267 
 
 whose flag is the emblem of justice and secu- 
 rity, and of freedom to the slave. 
 
 It is premature at this moment to predict what 
 may be the result of diplomatic action, which 
 is anxiously watched for day by day by the 
 entire British people, and even if Russia should 
 submit the Treaty as proposed to the European 
 Powers, she may still wish obstinately to retain 
 certain advantages to herself, to which England 
 cannot submit, and war must necessarily ensue. 
 If such should unfortunately be the case, the 
 responsibility will rest with Russia and not 
 with us, as we have patiently endeavoured to 
 persuade her to follow the paths of rectitude 
 and honour; but we shall enter that war 
 conscious of the purity of our motives, conscious 
 of our strength, and in the certain conviction 
 we shall come out of it victoriously, and 
 that we shall confer upon the oppressed and 
 down-trodden countries of the East, not a 
 change of masters, but real liberty; not a 
 hollow truce, but a glorious and a lasting 
 peace. 
 
 In conclusion, I feel you will all join with me 
 in heartily wishing for this happy consumma- 
 tion, and as we are justly proud of the blessings of 
 English citizenship, we are the more likely to
 
 268 
 
 appreciate those patriotic lines of Thompson, 
 and congratulate ourselves that England is 
 our home, and that Victoria is our Queen : 
 
 " Island of bliss ! amid the subject seas, 
 That thunder round thy rocky coasts, set up, 
 At once the wonder, terror, and delight 
 Of distant nations, whose remotest shores 
 Can soon be shaken by thy naval arm ; 
 Not to be shook thyself, but all assaults 
 Baffling, as thy hoar cliffs the loud sea wave."* 
 
 May 8th, 1878. 
 
 NOTE. 
 
 Since this address was delivered, the deter- 
 mined action of the British Government has 
 compelled Russia to submit the Treaty of San 
 Stefano to the Congress of the Great Powers 
 of Europe, at Berlin. The arrangements there 
 entered into, and the subsequent Convention 
 of England with Turkey, may reasonably result 
 
 * Thomson's " Seasons."
 
 269 
 
 in the better government of the various races 
 in the East, and consequently be the means of 
 strengthening the Turkish Empire, and ulti- 
 mately prove a complete barrier to the further 
 ambition of Russia.
 
 E. H. PICKERING, HIGH-OUSEGATE, YOEK.
 
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