Chapter VII: Part 7

The park is fine and extensive, but beyond, the signs of the proximity of busy Leeds obtrude and spoil the scenery. We went from here to the undesirable locality of Hunslet in search of a place called Knowsthorpe Hall, but had some considerable difficulty in finding it, for nobody seemed to know it by that name. "You warnts the Island," observed a mining gentleman, a light dawning upon him. So we got nearer by inquiring for "the Island," but then the clue was lost. Thousands of factory hands were pouring out of a very unlikely looking locality, but nobody knew such a place. In desperation we plunged into a primitive coffee-stall, around which black bogies were sitting at their mid-day meal. One of them with more intelligence than the rest knew the place, but couldn't describe how to get to it. "Go up yon road," he said, "and ask for 'Whitakers.'" We followed the advice, and at the turning asked for 'Whitakers.' "Is it the dressmakers ye mean?" was the reply of a small boy to whom we put the question. "Yes," we said, in entire ignorance whether it was the dressmakers or the almanac people. But having got so far there were landmarks that did the rest, and presently a big entrance gate was seen with painted on its side-pillars, "Knowsthorpe Olde Hall."

But there was no Island, not even a moat. The smoke of Leeds has given the stone walls a coat of black, but otherwise it is not unpicturesque, and would be more so if this original gateway remained. Within the last two years this has been removed as well as the steps leading down from the terrace. The gateway was called the "Stone Chairs," because of the niches or seats on either side of it. It is now, we understand, at Hoare Cross, near Burton-on-Trent. There is much oak within the house, and one panelled room has a very fine carved mantelpiece. The oak staircase, too, is graceful as well as uncommon in design. Close against one side of the house is a stone archway with sculptured figures of the time of James I. on either side of it, and the old lady in charge related the history of this happy pair, how the gentleman had wooed the damsel (a Maynard), but as he had not been to the wars she would have nothing to say to him. Consequently he buckled on his sword and engaged in the nearest battle; and to prove his valour, brought back with him as a love-token the arm which he had lost,--a statement sounding somewhat contradictory. Naturally after that she fell into his--other arm, and accepted him on the spot. This daughter of Mars, of course, now "revisits the glimpses of the moon" with her lover's arm, not around her waist in the ordinary fashion, but in her hand; and those who doubt the story may see her effigy thus represented. But the dignity of this happy pair is somewhat marred, for the only use to which they are now put is to form a stately entrance to--a hen-coop!

There are some interesting old houses between Leeds and Otley, the "Low" Halls of Rawdon and Yeadon, for instance. The former is a good Elizabethan house, and contains some interesting rooms. Low Hall, Yeadon, dates farther back, though its chief characteristics are of the same period. The interior is rich in ancient furniture, and there are some Knellers, which the artist is said to have painted on the spot. The saturnine features of the Merry Monarch are to be seen on one side of the huge Tudor fireplace, and near at hand Nell Gwyn, probably a more correct likeness than a flattering one. There are ancient cabinets, chests, and tables contemporary with the house; and what is more interesting still, the cabinets and chests contain relics of Mary Queen of Scots, and the ruffs and collars that were fashionable three centuries ago. A gallery, wainscoted with large panels of a later period, extends the length of the house; and at the western extremity of it a bedroom, also panelled, possesses a hiding-place or secret cupboard which it would baffle the most persevering to discover, but when the panel is pushed aside, the trick of it looks so very simple. Of the Stuart relics we shall speak presently in referring to Mary Queen of Scots' imprisonment at Bolton Castle.

Passing through Guiseley, which is situated in the midst of worsted mills, with the stocks by a lamp-post in the middle of the street as if they were a present-day necessity, you climb a hill and then come suddenly upon a lovely view, with Otley, "the Switzerland of Yorkshire," lying in the Wharfe valley below. The Chevin Hill is over nine hundred feet in height, and from it you are supposed to see York Cathedral on one side and the mountains of Westmoreland on the other. As the Chevin is the lion of the place, it is the duty of visitors to go to the top. Alpine climbers may enjoy this sort of task, but there are some people who do not even wish to say that they have seen a city some six-and-twenty miles away; but such as these who go to Otley and do not inconvenience themselves would be looked upon by the Otleyites with pity. But there is another thing which the town is proud of too, and that is its lofty Maypole, which, standing in a firm socket of stone, is guarded round by iron rails. There are far more Maypoles in Yorkshire than in any other county, and it is pleasing to find the people are thus conservative; though truly when they get blown down, they don't often trouble themselves enough to put them up again. There are some interesting monuments in the church, one on the right of the chancel to General Fairfax's grandparents, two stately recumbent effigies of James I.'s time. There are mural monuments to the Fawkeses of Farnley Hall (a much altered Elizabethan mansion, containing Cromwellian relics: the Lord Protector's hat, sword, and watch, and Fairfax's drum) and a Vavasour of Weston Hall, who was a philanthropist in his way, for he was buried in wool to promote the local trade. He is represented on his monument neatly packed, and looks so cosy that the bas-relief is suggestive of the undertaker's advertisement, "Why live and be wretched when you can be buried comfortably for five pound ten?" In the vestry there is a splendid set of old oak chairs of which the verger is not a little proud.

A pleasant meadow walk by the riverside leads to Leathley, which has a Norman church, but can scarcely be called a village, for there is no inn. A formidable pair of stocks stand ready by the churchyard; but as nothing stronger than milk can be procured, they have not been worn out with too much work. Again, at Weston on the other side of the Wharfe river we come across the roadside stocks (like the usual Yorkshire type, with two uprights of stone) by the spreading roots of an ancient tree. Weston Hall is a long low Tudor building, with at one end a broad bay of three storeys. An old banqueting-house in the grounds is ornamented with shields of arms; and formerly the windows of it were full of heraldic stained glass, some of which is now in the windows of the Hall. From here we went northwards in search of Swinsty Hall, over a lonely moorland district. The road goes up and up until you are not surprised when you come to a signpost pointing to "To Snowdon." To the left, you are told, leads to "Blubberhouses," wherever that may be. For preference we chose the latter road, and soon got completely lost in the wilds. The only sign of civilisation was a barn, where we had the fortune to find an old man who presumably spoke the pure dialect, for we couldn't make head or tail of it. "Swinsty--ai, you go on ter road until it is," was the direction he gave, and we went on and until it _wasn't_. At length, however, after plodding knee deep in marshy land and saturated heather, we found the object of our search perched in a lonely meadow above a wide stretch of water. It looked as if it had a gloomy history; and no wonder that some of the upper rooms are held in awe, for there the ghost of a person with the unromantic name of Robinson is said to count over his ill-gotten gains, which he brought down from London in waggons when the Plague of 1666 was raging. He had the good fortune to escape contamination, and once back with his plundered wealth he meant to have what nowadays we call "a good time"; but the story has a moral, for it got winded abroad how he got his gold, and nobody would have anything to do with him or his money, and by the irony of fate he had to spend the rest of his days in trying to wash away the germs of infection.

The hall is entered through a spacious porch in the roof of which is hung an enormous bell. The room you enter is by no means gloomy. A carved oak staircase with balustrade of peculiar form leads to other rooms panelled to the ceiling, with fine overmantels. The leads of the small window-panes are of fanciful design; one bears the date 1627 and the initials I. W. H., and these occur again with the date 1639 in some oak carving in one of the bedrooms. A "well" stone staircase between rough-hewn stone walls leads up to the attics, which have open timber roofs with semicircular span to the main beams. They look as if they were but recently put up, so fresh does the wood look, and the pegs that join the timbers still protrude as if they had just been hammered in, and awaited the workman's axe to cut them level. A word upon the subject of these old roofs may not be out of place. When old houses are restored, of course it is the proper thing to open out an original timber roof where the original hall or chamber has been divided and partitioned, but in so many instances nowadays flat ceilings are removed to show the open timbers which were _never intended to be seen_. Bedrooms are thus made cold and bare, with not nearly enough protection from the draughts from the tiles. The attics at Swinsty are a proof of this, there being no great distance between the floor and the roof. Another thing, if the floors were done away with here, Mr. Robinson would have to come down a storey, and that is not desirable.

On the way to Swinsty, by the bye, a ruinous house is passed on the right about midway between there and Otley. It is of no great architectural interest, but is singular in construction, having a projecting turret containing a spiral staircase at the back, which presumably was the only entrance. It is lofty, and has square windows with a bay in the centre, but it is now only a shell. Mr. Ingram in his _Haunted Homes_ relates that Dob Park Lodge, as the place is called, is reputed to be haunted by a huge black dog who has the power of speech, and is said to watch over a hidden treasure in the vaults, like the dog with saucer eyes in Hans Andersen. The entrance to these is locally supposed to be somewhere at the foot of the winding stair, and so far only one person has ventured to explore the depths; but when he did, he actually saw a great chest of gold!--but then we must take into account that he was very drunk. Fewston village, not far from Swinsty, is picturesquely situated on a knoll above the lake or reservoir; but the church, mostly of William III.'s time, has nothing of interest save a few stalls and a pretty little font cover. The wooden spiked altar rails might almost be the palings of a suburban garden, whilst the crude square panes of red and blue of the chancel windows should be anywhere but in a church.

To the north-east is "Catch'em Corner"; but it is uncertain what is to be caught except a chill, for the position is very bleak. Striking northwards we get into the delightful Nidd valley. To the right lies Ripley, famous for the rood screen, the ancient glass, and Edwardian tomb of the Ingilbys of the castle, which Tudor structure surrendered to the Parliament a day or so before Marston Moor was fought. Here Cromwell is said to have sat up all night before the battle, hob-a-nob with his unwilling hostess.

Going northwards from Fewston, the prettiest part of the road to Pateley is struck near the village of Dacre. The romantic rocks and glens hereabouts are famous, and much frequented by tourists, consequently sixpences and threepences have to be frequently disbursed. The price is cheap enough, but the romance is spoiled. Hack Fall, near Masham, to the north-east, is as lovely a spot as one could wish to see, but there are too many signs of civilisation about. It is like taming a lion. The guide-book tells you to go along until you get to a "refreshment house," which almost reads like an advertisement in disguise.

There is a sculptured Saxon cross in Masham churchyard, and the church contains a fine monument to the Wyvells of Burton Constable manor, an old house near Finghall, to the north-west, where members of the family are also buried. The famous Jervaulx Abbey ruins nestle in a hollow on the right of the road to Middleham. When close upon it we asked the way of a yokel, but he shook his head; and then it dawned upon him what we meant: "It's Jarvey ye warnt," he said, and pointed straight ahead. Scott's worthy, Prior Aylmer, would surely beam with joy at the tender care bestowed upon the remains of the establishment over which he once presided; and the park might grace the finest modern dwelling, judging by the well-kept lawns and walks; but all this trimness looks less natural to a ruin than the more rustic surroundings of Easby, for example. The remains of the Cistercian monastery are rather fragmentary, consisting mainly of some graceful octagonal pillars and a row of lofty lancet windows in the wall of the refectory, and some round-headed arches of the chapter-house. It was destroyed in 1539, and the beautiful screen of the church carried off to Aysgarth, where it may now be seen.

Continuing along the road to Middleham, Danby Hall, the ancient seat of the Scropes, is seen in the distance on the right; but the river intervenes, and one has to go beyond East Witton before a crossing can be obtained. This village, built on either side of a wide green, has nothing out of the common except its Maypole and its very conspicuous Blue Lion rampant. A blue lion is a little change after the hackneyed red, and the beast looks proud of his originality. Witton probably was much prettier before the jubilee celebration of George III.'s reign, when the old church and most of the old houses were pulled down.

By the old grey bridge (with the pillar of a sundial in the centre, dated 1674) the Cover and Yore Rivers join hands with not a little fuss, like the enthusiasm of a new-made friendship. The road to Danby Hall runs level with the river then branches to the left. The mansion is Elizabethan; but the stone balustrade was added in the middle of the seventeenth century, and the small cupola-crowned towers were added subsequently. The oldest part is a square tower to the north-east, where, in the time of religious persecution, there was a small oratory or chapel for secret services. In the heraldic glass of the windows the ancient family of Scrope may be traced from Lord Scrope who fought at Flodden up to the present day, and their history may be followed by the portraits of the various generations on the walls. A curious discovery was made here in the early part of the last century. One of the chimneys in a stack of four could not be accounted for, and a plummet of lead was dropped down each of them, three of which found an outlet but the fourth could not be found. To get at the bottom of the mystery, a not too bulky party was lowered down, and he found himself in a small chamber full of long cut-and-thrust swords, flintlock pistols, and the ancient saddlery of untanned leather for a troop of fifty horse. Not much value was set upon such things in those days, so the harness was put to good account and utilised for cart-horse gear upon the farm. But the dispersal of the ancient weapons has a history too, for at the time that England was trembling with the fear of an invasion from the dreaded "Boney," a cottage caught light one night on one of the surrounding hills; and this being taken as a signal of alarm, the beacon on top of Penhill was fired. The terror-stricken villagers rushed everywhere for weapons, but none could be provided, and the good squire of Danby speedily distributed the secret store which had been hidden in the house for the Jacobite insurrection of 1715. In time the yokels returned, and there was a week's rejoicing and merry-making that the blazing beacon after all had only proved a flash in the pan. The pistols and swords, however, were not returned save one, which may still be seen with the armourer's marks on the blade, "Shotley" on one side and "Bridge" on the other.[32] Another has found its way into the little museum at Bolton Castle. In demolishing a cottage at Middleham it was discovered up in the thatch roof, where it was put, perhaps, pending another alarm. The hiding-place was converted into a butler's room by Major Scrope's grandfather.

Among the portraits are some good Lelys, including two of Sir Carr Scrope who was so enamoured of the Court physician's daughter.[33] Another Lely of a handsome girl is said to represent one of the Royalist Stricklands of Sizergh. Above the black oak staircase of James I.'s time hangs a rare portrait of Mary of Modena; for one seldom sees her when the beauty of youth had departed, for naturally she did not like to be handed thus down to posterity. The queen looks sour here, which tallies with the accounts we have of her in later life; but truly she had cause enough to make her sour.

From the Yore River the ground ascends to Middleham, now only a sleepy looking village but called a "town." Above the roof-tops at the summit of the hill stands the mediaeval castle where resided in great pomp that turbulent noble, Warwick the "kingmaker." Here it was that he imprisoned Edward IV., the monarch he had helped to put upon the throne, for daring to marry the widowed daughter of Sir Richard Woodville in preference to a Nevill. When, the year after reinstating Henry VI. for a brief space, the great feudal baron ended his career on Barnet battlefield, his castle at Middleham was handed over by Edward to his brother Richard, who had also a claim upon it by his marriage with the "kingmaker's" daughter. Here "Crookback," or rather "Crouchback," was living before he usurped the Crown in 1483; and here his son the young Prince Edward died upon the first anniversary, as a providential punishment for the death of his little cousins in the Tower. Richard, by the way, is said to have had another natural son who lived into the reign of Edward VI. and died in a small house on the Eastwell estate near Wye in Kent. Richard Plantagenet's death is duly recorded in the parish register, distinguished by the mark of a V, which distinguishes other entries of those of noble birth, and a plain tomb in the chancel is supposed to be his place of interment. Until an old man he preserved his incognito, when Sir Thomas Moyle discovered that a mason at work upon his house was none other than a king's son. His youth had been spent under charge of a schoolmaster, who had taken him to Bosworth field and introduced him into Richard's tent. The king received him in his arms and told him he was his father, and if he survived the battle he would acknowledge him to be his son; but if fortune should go against him, he should on no account reveal who he was. On the following day in entering Leicester a naked figure lying across a horse's back was pointed out to him as the same great person whose star and gaiter had inspired him with awe.

The walls of the Norman castle keep are of immense thickness, and protected without by others almost as formidable of a later date. The great hall was on the first floor, and the tower where little Edward Plantagenet was born (the Red Tower) at the south-west corner; but tradition hasn't kept alive much to carry the imagination back to the time when the powerful Nevill reigned here in his glory. The escape of Edward IV. has been made realistic in the immortal bard's _King Henry VI._, and Scene v. Part iii. might be read in less romantic spots than in Wensleydale, with this grand old ruin standing out in the distance like one of Dore's castles. In this case, distance "lends enchantment," as Middleham itself is by no means lovely. The ancient market-cross would look far less commonplace and tomb-like were the top of it again knocked off. The site of the swine market bears the cognosance of "Crouchback," which is scarcely a compliment to his memory; but this antique monument is put vastly in the shade by a jubilee fountain, the only up-to-date thing in the place, and quite out of harmony with the ring where bulls were baited within living memory.

In Spennithorne church, near Middleham, there is an ancient altar-tomb of John Fitz-Randolph, of the family of the early lords of the castle before the Nevills became possessed of it. Along the font are several coloured shields of arms of the various families with whom they intermarried. The nave of the church has an odd appearance, as the north and south aisles are separated by a series of distinct arches, the latter Early English, the former pure Norman. A very interesting thirteenth-century screen was originally at Jervaulx Abbey. On the west wall there is a large fresco of Father Time, dating perhaps two hundred years later. The rector must be commended for hanging in his church a brief summary of the points of interest, and many might follow this laudable example.

Leyburn stands high among the hills, and must have been a picturesque old market-place before the ancient town-hall, market-cross, and two stately elms were removed. The great wide street has now a bare and by no means attractive appearance, and were it not for the lovely surroundings it would not form so popular a centre for exploring. The "Shawl," the huge natural terrace, on a rocky base high up above the tree-tops of the woods below, is, of course, its great feature, and a more delightful walk could not be found in England, with the softest turf to walk upon and the glorious panorama in front. Conspicuous among the heights is flat-topped Penhill, standing boldly out against the wide expanse of dale, upon whose crest are the ruins of a chapel of the old Knights Templars. A gap in the rock, with a path running westwards through the woods, is known as "Queen's Gap," for Mary Queen of Scots when she fled from Bolton Castle got thus far when she was overtaken in attempting to urge her horse through the narrow ravine. In consequence of this, the "Shawl" locally is said to derive its name from the shawl the prisoner dropped upon the way, giving her pursuers a clue; which on the face of it is ridiculous, as the name is derived either from the Saxon _Sholl_ or Scandinavian _Schall_. Bolton is some five miles away to the west, and the poor captive was to have gone northwards to Richmond and thence to her native land; and at Bellerby, between Richmond and Leyburn, a halt was to have been made at the Hall, the seat of the Royalist family of Scott, where a company of Scots guards was stationed ready to receive her. The old Hall still stands on the left-hand side of the village green as you enter, and looks as if it had a history.

At Bolton the window may be seen from which she was lowered to the ground, and one can trace the way she took in a north-easterly direction across the rocky bed of the rushing stream into the woods below the "Shawl." The window from which she escaped is the upper one of the three running horizontally with the south-western tower. There is another window to the prison-room which looks into the inner courtyard. The apartment is grim and bare, with a small fireplace, and steps leading down into a larger bare apartment, once the "drawing-room." Though externally the castle is not so picturesque as Middleham, it is much more perfect and interesting. The hooded stone fireplaces remain in the walls, and various rooms can be located, from the hall and chapel to the vault-like stables in the basement. The well, too, is perfect, with scooped-out wall to the upper chambers, not forgetting the awful dungeon in the solid rock. A large apartment with wide Tudor fireplace has been converted into a museum, and the curiosities are of a varied nature, from cocking spurs and boxing-gloves from the sporting centres of Leyburn and Middleham to the bull-fight banderillos of Spain. There is quite an assortment of weird-looking instruments of torture, which, after all, are only toasting-dogs, huge cumbrous things like antediluvian insects or much magnified microbes. How is it these appurtenances of domestic comfort have entirely died out like the now extinct warming-pan? But this museum can no way be compared with Mr. Home's wonderful collections at Leyburn. Here you can learn something about everything, for the kindly proprietor of the museum takes a pride in describing his curios. Those who have been to Middleham and seen the castle immortalised by Shakespere, may here study Edward IV.'s fair hair. As rare a curiosity is a valentine of the time of William III. From the treasures of Egyptian tombs you skip to the first invented matches; from Babylonian inscriptions to early-Victorian samplers. And the learned antiquarian relates how he was educated in the old Yore mill at Aysgarth by old John Drummond, the grandson of the Jacobite Earl of Perth, who had to hide himself in a farm in Bishopdale (How Rig) for his hand in the '45, when the Scotch estates were confiscated for aiding the cause of the Bonnie Prince. Were it not for Mr. Home's interest in old-time customs, the bull-ring in the market-place would have disappeared, for the socket was nearly worn through when he had it repaired. He relates how at the last bull-baiting the infuriated beast got away and sent the whole sportsmen flying, and at length was shot in Wensley village.

Wensley nestles in the valley, surrounded by hills. The interior of the church is rich in carvings from the ruinous abbey of Easby, near Richmond. The stalls from Easby have at the ends exceptionally bold and elaborate carvings with heraldic shields and arms, dating from the days of Edward IV. A nearly life-size brass, of the third Edward's time, is of its kind one of the finest in England,--an ecclesiastic in robes, with crossed hands pointing downwards. By the entrance door is a quaint old poor-box; but what first strikes the eye as you enter, is the parclose screen from Easby Abbey, which, ill fitting its confined space, partially blocks the windows; but the effect of the elaborate carving against the tracery is very striking. It is early-Tudor in date, and belonged to the Scrope chantry, whose arms appear upon it, with those of Fitz-Hugh, Marmion, and other noble families. Within this screen, evidently a good many years later, a manorial pew was made, the side of which is within the parclose. To amalgamate the two, the latter has been somewhat mangled, doors having been added, with a pendant aloft to balance other large hollow pendants in the various arches. Unfortunately the whole has been painted with a dull grey and grained, a feeble attempt to represent marble, and parts of it are also gilt. A fixed settle has been added to the interior, so unless carefully examined it is difficult to detect how the parclose and pew were made into one. The two-decker pulpit and the wide old-fashioned pews lined with faded green baize and pink rep, bring us back to more modern times; but one would be loath to see them removed if restoration funds were lavish. Beneath the great manorial pew lie at rest the remains of the daughter of the thirteenth Lord Scrope, who by marriage with the first Duke of Bolton brought the castle into the Poulett family: until then the Scropes had held possession through marriage with an heiress of the Nevills. The third wife of Charles Poulett, second Duke of Bolton, was Henrietta Crofts, the daughter of the Duke of Monmouth and Eleanor Needham.[34]

The Scrope who had charge of the Scots queen at Bolton Castle was Henry, the eleventh lord, whose wife was sister to the captive's plotting lover, the Duke of Norfolk, who also lost his head through these ambitious schemes; and doubtless it was the duke who contrived the queen's escape. She had been brought from the castle of Carlisle in July 1568, but after her attempt to escape was promptly removed (on January 26) to Tutbury Castle under charge of the Earl of Shrewsbury. The furniture of her private altar at Bolton, the altar-cloth, part of a rosary, a small bronze crucifix, and an alms-bag, are now preserved at Low Hall, Yeadon, mentioned earlier in this chapter. Her hawking gloves also: these are said to have been given to Lord Scrope upon her leaving.

Some miles to the west of Bolton is Nappa Hall (where the ancient family of Metcalfe lived since the reign of Henry VI., and where Metcalfes live to-day), a fortified manor-house with square towers (suggestive of Haddon), which also claims association with the unfortunate queen. By some accounts she slept here one night, by others two or more; and the tradition in the Metcalfe family says nine, in the highest chamber of the tallest tower. The date is not known, but probably she was brought here on her way from Carlisle Castle. The bed on which she slept, the top of which was very low, is now at Newby Hall, near Ripon. Our sanitary views being very distinct from those enlightened times, the pillars of these sixteenth-century beds are frequently raised (in some cases unnecessarily high), and unless one wished to be half-smothered, this is a natural thing to do if the bed is to be put to practical use; but nowadays the collectors of ancient furniture are again reducing the height, and bringing them down to their original proportions.

In asking the way to Nappa from the village of Askrigg, we were told to follow a "gentleman with a flock of sheep who was going up that way"; but as the distance was the matter of a couple of miles--and Yorkshire miles too, we preferred to follow the telegraph poles, which, after all, was more expeditious and quite as reliable. We give this as an instance of the ordinary pace at which things move in these parts; and perhaps it is as well, otherwise the old Hall built by William Taunton in 1678 (so it says on the door), with its upper balcony of wood looking upon the quaint old market-cross where the bull-ring used to be, might have given way to co-operative stores or some new hideous building.

The village-green of Bainbridge to the west is quite shut in with hills, and in the centre are the stocks, or rather the stone supports minus the most important part, with a rough rock seat which must have added considerably to the victim's discomfort. The principal curiosity, however, is the ancient custom prevailing here of blowing a horn at 10 p.m. during the summer months, to guide belated travellers on the moors. This was an excellent provision for safety hundreds of years ago, when Bainbridge was practically in the midst of a forest, and even in the twentieth century may have its uses. The older horn, that was used half a century ago, is now in Bolton Castle Museum. It is very large, and curiously twisted. The houses at Bainbridge are of the ordinary ugly Yorkshire type; but on high ground overlooking a ravine stands a nice old gabled grange, which must have tempted many an artist and photographer to pause upon their way to the famous Falls. These, of course, are very fine, but to our mind far less beautiful than the single plunge of water just below the grange, from a wide and scooped-out bed of precipitous rock. Nor are the high, low, and middle Falls of Aysgarth half so picturesque, though in a sense they are more boisterous, like coppery boiling water.

Aysgarth church is perched up high, and you have to climb up many steps to reach it from the moss-grown bridge. The doors of most of the Yorkshire churches we found were kept unlocked; but this was an exception, so down those steps we had to come, to go in search of a key; but reaching the bottom of the flight, up we had to go again to try and find the rectory. Oh! the time that may be lost in hunting for a church key, and what a blessing it would be if notices were stuck up in the porches to say where they were kept. The interior of Aysgarth has a new appearance, but the splendid painted screen from Jervaulx (placed east and west instead of across the chancel) is worth a hunt for the key. Another screen, dated 1536, has upon it the grotesque carving of a fool's head with long-eared cap. Here again in the village are the stocks; but the Maypole, which once was its pride, long since has made its exit.

By far the nearest way to Richmond from Leyburn is across the moor, a rough and desolate road, but preferable to the terrible long way by Catterick, more than double the distance (by rail it is four times the distance!). This is the prettiest village of any on the way (which is not saying much, be it said). The early fifteenth-century church has some good monuments and brasses, one of the latter to a lady who for many years before she died carried her winding-sheet about with her; and one would naturally suppose one with such gruesome ideas would still walk the earth for the edification of the timid, but she doesn't.

The entrance to Richmond by the nearest way is very charming. You come suddenly upon the castle perched up over the river, and as you wind down the hill the grouping of its towers is thrown into perspective, forming a delightful picture with the river and the bridge for a foreground. Three kings have been prisoners within these formidable Norman walls: two kings of Scotland, William and David Bruce, and after the lapse of three centuries, Charles I., who passed here on his way to Holdenby. The stalls and misericordes in the fine old church came from Easby Abbey. They are boldly carved, and one of them represents a sow playing a fiddle for the edification of her little pigs. There is a curious coloured mural monument, on the east side of the chancel, of Sir Timothy Hutton and his wife and children--twelve of them, including four babes, beneath two of which are these verses:

"As carefull mothers do to sleeping say,
Their babes that would too long the wanton play;
So to prevent my youths approaching crimes,
Nature my nurse had me to bed betimes."

The next is less involved:

"Into this world as strangers to an inn
This infant came, guest wise;
Where when 't had been and found no entertainment worth her stay,
She only broke her fast and went away."

Altogether it is a cheery tomb. Faith, Hope and Charity are there, one of whom acts as nurse to one of the babes. Her ladyship's expression is somewhat of the Aunt Sally type, but that was the sculptor's fault. The ancient church plate includes a chalice dated 1640. The registers are beautifully neat and clean, and full of curious matter, such as the banns being read by the market-cross.

Apropos of Yorkshire marriages, the odd custom prevails in some parts of emptying a kettle of boiling water, down--not the backs of the happy pair, but down the steps of the front door as they drive away, that the threshold may be "kept warm for another bride," we presume for _another_ swain. The way also of ascertaining whether the future career of those united will be attended with happiness is simple and effective. All you have to do is, as the bride steps out of the carriage, to fling a plate containing small pieces of the wedding-cake out of a window upon the heads of the onlookers. If the crowd is a small one, and the plate arrives on the pavement and is smashed to pieces, all will go well; but if somebody's head intervenes, the augury is ominous; which, after all, is only natural, for is it not likely that one thus greeted would call at the house to bestow his blessing upon somebody? What a pity this pretty custom is not introduced into the fashionable marriages of St George's, Hanover Square. It would at least create a sensation.

For the rest of Richmond church, well--it was restored by Sir Gilbert Scott. It is regrettable to find the piscina on a level with the floor, beneath a pew seat!

The curfew still rings at Richmond, telling the good people when to go to bed; but whether they go or not is another matter. We are told it is, or was, also rung for them to get up again at six o'clock; and the aged official whose duty it was to ring the morning bell, like a wise man, did so at his leisure, lying in bed with the rope hanging from the ceiling.[35]

From the churchyard, Easby Abbey is seen in the distance in a romantic spot by the river: and the walk there is delightful, along the terrace above the Swale. Like the rest of these fine structures, it was destroyed by the vindictive Henry in 1535. The water close at hand, the old abbot's elm, and the little church and gatehouse beyond, altogether make this a spot in which to linger and ruminate. The church walls are covered with curious and very well preserved paintings of the twelfth century, giving a good idea of the costume of the period. The tempting serpent, too, is shown twisted in artistic coils around a very pre-Raphael looking tree; and in another scene the partakers of the fruit are doubled up with remorse, or dyspepsia.

So close at hand as is Bolton on Swale, to the east, it would be a pity not to mention Henry Jenkins, who died there in 1670, aged one hundred and sixty-nine!--a man in Charles II.'s reign who remembered the dissolution of the monasteries, and who recollected as a boy assisting in carrying arrows in a cart to the battle of Flodden field (where veteran soldiers remembered the accession of King Edward IV.), was a wonder compared with the feeble memory of our present-day centenarians, who rarely recollect anything worth recording. When we think how nearly we are linked with 1670 by the life of Mrs. William Stuart, who died in the late queen's reign, and who heard from the lips of her grandmother how she had been taken to Court in a black-draped Sedan when Whitehall was in mourning for the death of the king's sister, Henrietta, Duchess of Orleans,--it would have been possible for the little girl to have spoken with old Jenkins, and thus with only three lives to have linked the early part of the reign of Henry VIII. with that of Victoria.

FOOTNOTES:

[31] We have described these relics (now in the possession of Mrs. Martin-Edmunds) in detail in the _Memoirs of the Martyr King_.

[32] In the account in _Secret Chambers_ of the inscription on the swords, it is given in error as "Shortly."

[33] See _Some Beauties of the Seventeenth Century_.

[34] See _King Monmouth_.

[35] This and other information we have derived from Mr. Harry Speight's interesting work, _Romantic Richmond_.

INDEX

Abbotts Ann, 221.
Amber, river, 217.
"Angel," Ringwood, 178.
"Angel," Stilton, 10.
"Angel," Yeovil, 145.
Ashford, 221.
Ashover, 217.
Askrigg, 261.
Athelhampton, 173, 174, 175.
Avon, river, 84, 85.
Axmouth, 169.
Aysgarth, 249, 262, 263.

Baddesley Clinton, 72, 73, 76.
Bainbridge, 262.
Barnard Castle, 225.
Barnborough, 230.
Barnstaple, 164, 165, 166.
Barrington Court, 135, 137, 138.
Barton Hall, 23.
Barton-on-the-Heath, 66, 67.
Beckington Castle, 130.
Beeley, 210.
Beer, 168, 169.
Bellerby, 256.
"Bell," Mildenhall, 22.
"Bell," Sandy Lane, 105.
"Bell," Stilton, 10, 86.
Bere Regis, 158, 176, 177.
Beverstone Castle, 100.
Bewley Court, 109.
Biddestone, 114.
Bildeston, 32.
Bindon, 169.
Birdlip, 97.
Birtsmorton Court, 81, 83, 84.
Bishop's Lydeard, 147, 148.
"Black Horse," Birdlip, 98.
Blackladies, 199.
Blickling Hall, 45, 46, 47, 49.
Blore Heath, 192, 193.
"Blue Lion," East Witton, 249.
Bolsover Castle, 210, 217.
Bolton Castle, 251, 256, 260, 262.
Bolton-on-Swale, 267.
Bossington, 159.
Bovey, 169.
Bowes, 225.
Brailes, 68.
Brampton, 4.
Branscombe, 167, 168.
Braunton, 165.
Broadway, 85, 87, 89, 90.
Bromham, 103, 105.
Brotherton, 236.
Broughton Hall, 193, 194.
Brympton D'Eversy, 135, 141.
Brynkinalt, 185.
Buckingham's hole, Blore, 192.
Buckland, 89, 90.
Bullich House, Allington, 117.
Burrow Farm, 136.
Burton Constable, 248.
Bury St. Edmund's, 27, 31.
Bushley, 83.

"Cannard's Grave," Shepton Mallet, 133, 134.
Carhampton, 157, 158.
Castle Combe, 114.
"Castle Inn," Castle Combe, 116.
Catterick, 263.
Chapel Plaster Hermitage, 110.
Charlcote, 72, 73.
Charterhouse Hinton, 128.
Chastleton, 62, 64, 66.
Chatsworth, 208, 210.
Chavenage Manor House, 100, 101.
Chedzoy, 135.
Cheney Court, 111.
Chevin Hill, 242.
Chideock, 171, 172.
Chipping Campden, 87, 92.
Chipping Norton, 61.
Chirk Castle, 181.
Church House, Crowcombe, 149.
Church Stanway, 90.
Church Stretton, 188, 189.
Claverton Down, 111.
Clifton Maybank, 143.
Clovelly, 162, 163.
Coaxden, 170.
Colerne, 112.
Coles Farm, Box, 111, 112.
Combe St. Nicholas, 145.
Combe Sydenham 152, 153.
Compton Wyniates, 42, 68, 69, 70, 72, 73.
Condover Hall, 187, 188.
Connington Hall, 7.
Coombe Abbey, 72, 195.
Coppingford, 6.
Corby, 20, 21.
Corsham Court, 109, 112, 113, 114, 128.
Cothelstone, 148.
Court Farm, Hadleigh, 33.
Cover, river, 250.
Crimplesham, 56.
Croscombe, 132, 133.
Crowcombe, 132, 149, 150, 152, 153.
Crowther's Farm, 178.
Croxton, 194.
Croyde Bay, 166.
Culford, 26.
Curry Rivel, 135, 136.

Dacre, 248.
Dalby, 10.
Danby Hall, 249, 250.
Darfield, 230.
Dedham, 34.
Deene, 15, 16, 18.
Derwent, river, 210.
Dethick-cum-Lea, 217.
Dob Park Lodge, 247.
Dover Hill, 89, 92.
Downham Market, 56.
Downside, Shepton Mallet, 133.
"Dun Cow," Market Drayton, 190.
Dunster Castle, 155, 157, 158.

Easby, 249, 258, 259, 264, 266.
East Barsham Manor House, 41, 42.
East Bergholt, 34.
East Witton, 249.
Eaton Constantine, 188.
Edensor, 209.
Eleanor Crosses, 21.
Elworthy, 153.
Enmore Castle, 150, 151.
Ermine Street. 6, 97.
Erwarton Hall, 36.

Fakenham, 42, 43.
Farleigh Castle, 128, 136.
Farnley Hall, 243.
"Feathers," Ludlow, 188.
Fenstanton, 223.
Ferrybridge, 236.
Fewstone, 247, 248.
Finghall, 248.
Flatford, 34, 35.
Foss way, 134.
Fotheringay Castle, 7, 12, 13, 14, 15.
Four-Shire Stone, 66.

Gastard, 109, 110.
Gaulden, 154.
Gedding Hall, 31.
Geddington, 21.
"George," Glastonbury, 126.
"George," Huntingdon, 2.
"George," Norton St. Philip, 125.
"George," Sandy Lane, 105.
"George," Yeovil, 145.
Glatton, 7.
Glossop, 222, 223.
Godmanchester, 4.
"Golden Lion," Barnstaple, 164.
Great Chaldfield, 118, 121, 135.
Great Houghton, 230.
Great Snoring, 42.
Great Torrington, 53.
Great Wenham, 35.
"Green Dragon," Chipping Campden, 88.
"Green Dragon," Combe St. Nicholas, 145.
Guiseley, 242.

Hack Fall, 248.
Haddon Hall, 54, 86, 170, 183, 196, 200.
Hadleigh, 32, 34.
Hardeby, 21.
Hardwick, Derby, 143, 210, 212, 239.
Hardwick, Suffolk, 30.
"Hare and Hounds," East Bergholt, 35.
Harkstead, 36.
Hathersage, 222.
Hautboys Hall, 53.
Hawstead Place, 30, 31.
Hazelbury House, Box, 111.
Helmingham, 27, 150.
Hemington, 15.
Hengrave Hall, 26, 27, 28.
Heytesbury, 128.
Hinchinbrooke, 1, 3.
Hinton St George, 135, 138, 139, 143.
Hoare Cross, 240.
Hobbal Grange, 198, 199.
Holkham Hall, 40.
Holt Lodge, 178.
Hungerford Hospital, Corsham, 112.
Hunslet, 239.
Hunters' Hall, Colerne, 112.
Huntingdon, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 11.

Jervaulx Abbey, 248, 255, 263.

Kenilworth, 27, 72.
Kineton, 94.
"King's Arms," Market Drayton, 190.
Kingston, 147.
Kingston Lacy, 179.
Kingston St Michael, 117.
Kippax Park, 237.
Kirby Hall, 15, 16, 18, 19, 20, 42.
Knapton, 44.
Knowsthorpe Hall, 239.

Lacock Abbey, 105, 106, 107, 108, 109.
Langley, 188.
Langport, 135.
Lark, river, 24.
Leathley, 244.
Ledston Hall, 237.
Leyburn, 255, 256, 257, 263.
Little Compton, 61, 62.
Little Gidding, 7.
Little Saxham Hall, 26.
Little Stukeley, 5,6.
Little Wenham, 35.
Little Woolford, 66.
Long Compton, 59, 60, 61.
Long Marston, 89.
Low Hall, Rawdon, 241.
Low Hall, Yeadon, 241, 260.
Ludford, 188.
Ludlow Castle, 188.
"Luttrell Arms," Dunster, 157.
Lydcote, 53.
"Lygon Arms," Broadway, 85.
Lymington, 139, 140.
Lynmouth, 160.
Lynton, 160, 161.
Lytes Cary, 134.

Malvern Chase, 81.
Mannington Hall, 49.
Manor Farm, Norton St Philip, 124.
Mapperton Manor House, 173.
Market Drayton, 189.
Martock, 135, 138.
Masham, 248.
Maxstoke Castle, 72.
Melksham, 109, 118, 151.
Melplash Court, 173.
Menden, 72, 73.
Mickleton, 89.
Middleham, 248, 249, 251, 252, 254, 257.
Middlesoy, 135.
Mildenhall, 22, 23, 24.
Minehead, 158.
Monksilver, 152, 154.
Monmouth House, Shepton Mallet, 134.
Montacute House, 135, 142, 143.
Montacute Priory, 144.
Mundesley, Rookery Farm, 44.
Mundford, 56.

Nailsworth, 99, 100.
Nappa Hall, 260, 261.
Needham Market, 31.
Nene, river, 12.
Neston, 110.
Nettlecombe, 153.
Newbury Farm, Bildeston, 32.
Newby Hall, 261.
"New Inn," Clovelly, 163.
North Lees, Hathersage, 222.
Norton House, Chipping Campden, 89.
Norton St Philip, 123, 126, 127, 128.

Offenham, 85.
Old Cleeve, 154.
"Old Hall Inn," Great Houghton, 231.
"Old Red Lion," Long Compton, 59.
Old Weston, 223.
Orwell, river, 34.
Otley, 242, 243, 246.
Oundle, 11.
Ouse, river, 4, 223.
Oxburgh Hall, 53, 54, 55.
Oxnead Hall, 47, 53.

Painswick, 98.
Parnham Hall, 173.
Payne's Place, Bushley, 83, 144.
"Peacock," Rowsley, 207.
Penhill, 251, 255.
Pilsdon, 171.
Pilton, 165.
Pirton Court, 80.
Pitchford Hall, 187, 188.
Pixham, 78.
Plas Baddy, 185.
Plash Hall, 188.
Plumpton Hall, 30.
Pontefract Castle, 283.
Pontfaen, 186.
Porlock, 159, 160, 161.
Postlip Hall, 93, 96.
Powick Bridge, 78.
Priors Court, 78.
Puddletown, 175, 176.

Raynham Hall, 42, 47, 48, 74.
"Raven," Church Stretton, 189.
Rawdon, 241.
"Red Lion," Chipping Camden, 88.
Richmond, Yorkshire, 256, 258, 263, 264, 266.
Ripley, 247.
Ripple, 84.
Rodborough, 99.
Rollright Stones, 60.
Rushbrooke Hall, 27, 28, 29, 30.

St. Giles Park, 178, 179.
Sandford Orcas, 135, 140, 141.
Severn End, 80, 81, 195.
Severn, river, 84.
Sheffield Manor House, 208, 213, 225.
Sheldon Manor, 118.
Shepton Mallet, 132, 133.
"Ship Inn," Porlock, 160.
Shrewsbury, 81, 181, 188, 189.
Shute House, 170.
Silton, 171.
Snowre Hall, 55.
Somerton, 135.
Southam House, 93, 96.
Southfield, Woodchester, 99.
South Petherton, 135, 138.
South Wraxall, 118, 121.
Spaxton, 151.
Spennithorne, 254.
Sprowston, 58.
Spye Park, 104, 105, 109, 151.
Stainborough Hall, 228.
Stamford, 16, 18.
Stanfield Hall, 53.
Stanton, 89, 90.
Stanton St. Quinton, 117.
Stanway-in-the-Woods, 89.
Stiffkey Hall, 41.
Stilton, 8, 10, 11, 86.
Stogumber, 153.
Stoke Ferry, 53.
Stokesay Castle, 186.
Stour, river, 34.
"Strafford Arms," Stainborough, 229.
Strensham, 84.
Sudeley Castle, 93, 96, 100.
Swale, river, 266.
"Swan and Salmon," Little Stukeley, 5.
"Swan Inn," Downham Market, 56, 58.
Swinnerton Hall, 194.
Swinsty Hall, 244.

"Talbot," Oundle, 12.
Tamworth Castle, 72.
Tansor, 15.
Taunton, 136, 147.
Tawstock, 166, 167.
Temple Newsam, 229, 237.
Tetbury, 100.
Tewkesbury, 81, 83, 84, 181.
Thorpland Hall, 42.
Tintinhull Court, 135, 140.
Tissington, 221.
Tixall, 195.
Tong, 196, 197, 199.
Trent House, 135, 140, 156.
Trentham, 195.
Trunch, 44.
Tudor House, Broadway, 86.
"Turk's Head," Oundle, 11.
Tutbury Castle, 260.

Walsingham, 43, 44.
Wamil Hall, 24.
Warwick Castle, 72.
Waterstone, 173, 174.
Wellow, 127, 128.
Wells-next-the-Sea, 40, 43, 44.
Wensley, 258.
Wentworth Castle, 227, 230, 237.
Wentworth Woodhouse, 228, 229.
West Lydford, 134.
Weston Hall, 244.
Weston Zoyland, 135.
West Stow Hall, 24, 32.
Wharfe, river, 242, 244.
White House of Pixham, 78.
White Lackington, 137.
"White Lion," Hadleigh, 34.
Wimborne Minster, 177, 179.
Winchcombe, 93.
Wingfield Manor, 209, 215.
Winnington, 189.
Wolverton, 173, 174.
Woodchester, 99.
Woodlands, 178.
Wood Stanway, 90.
Wool, 176.
Wootton Lodge, 195, 196.
Wormleighton, 13.
Wormwood Farm, Neston, 110.
Worsborough, 226, 227.
Wothorpe Hall, 18.
Wye, river, 204.
Wylde Court, 171.
Wymondham, 51, 52, 53.

Yatton Keynell, 116, 117, 118.
Yeadon, 241.
Yew Tree Farm, Bushley, 83.
Yore, river, 250, 252.

End of Project Gutenberg's Nooks and Corners of Old England, by Allan Fea