THE WHARFE.
General Characteristics--The
Skirfare--Langstrothdale--Kettlewell--Dowkabottom
Cave--Coniston and its Neighbourhood--Rylstone and the
Nortons--Burnsall--Appletreewick: an Eccentric Parson--Simon's
Seat--Barden Tower and the Cliffords--The "Strid"--Bolton Abbey and
Bolton Hall--The Bridge--Ilkley--Denton and the Fairfaxes--Farnley
Hall and Turner--Otley--Harewood--Towton Field--Kirkby
Wharfe--Bolton Percy.
The Wharfe is typical of the broad shire. From beginning to end it
is a Yorkshire stream. Having its origin on the slopes of the Cam
mountain, in the north-west of the county, it traverses, in the sixty
or seventy miles of its course to the Ouse, almost every description
of the scenery for which this great division of England is famous.
Over moorland and meadowland, rushing madly down precipitous rocks and
flowing placidly along fertile plains, shut up in some parts within
deep gorges and at other points spreading out to river-like dimensions,
it has an ever-varying charm to all who trace its progress. And its
physical characteristics are but a reflex of the incidents of the story
to be gleaned along its banks. To make its acquaintance away up on
the fells is to find it blending into many a choice bit of folklore
and into old-world customs and superstitions. Here, in a favoured
bend, it murmurs in sweet harmony with an idyll of country life;
there it dashes wildly on its way, in keeping with the tragic tale of
which at this particular spot it is the scene. Yonder it skirts, in a
roofless monastery, a memorial of its treachery; here it has turned
for generations the waterwheel of a mill that has never failed to find
grist from a peaceful farming community. If in one place it sweeps
round one of the great battlefields of our country, in another it flows
in undisturbed seclusion between wooded slopes where the overhanging
trees hide the sunlight from its waters, and dark rock-sheltered
pools provide a safe retreat for the otter. Not anywhere, in fact,
is the Wharfe devoid of interest or beauty. It retains throughout
its freshness and its charm, and it is cheering to know that very
watchful are the people who live on its banks to guard it from anything
calculated to lessen its attractiveness.
A classic English river, tributes have been paid to the Wharfe from
the days of the Romans. In our own time Wordsworth got from it the
inspiration for some of his finest verse, and Turner found it yield
subjects to him in generous abundance for his matchless drawings.
Camden must have lingered by the Wharfe. He knew it better than any
other early writer. There is evidence, in what he says about it, that
he penetrated into those regions where its interest to the modern
tourist too often ends, but where to the naturalist, the antiquary, and
the artist, some of its choicest features begin to reveal themselves.
In his quaint way, in his "Britannia," he tells us that "if a man
should think the name of the stream to be wrested from the word Guerf,
which in British signifieth swift or violent, verily the nature of the
river conspireth with that opinion." Camden's description of the Wharfe
is proof that he saw it chiefly in its mountainous aspect. He speaks of
it as "a swift and speedy streame, making a great noise as it goeth,
as if it were froward, stubborn, and angry." And he further speaks of
it as being "verily a troublesome river, and dangerous even in summer
time also," which he himself had some experience of, "for it hath such
slippery stones in it that our horse had no sure footing on them, or
else the violence of the water carried them away from under his feet."
The Wharfe is joined, at a point about fifteen miles from its source,
by the Skirfare. Both rivers run on a parallel course from the
direction of the Cam fells, and are close enough to each other to have
a common interest. The Skirfare passes through what Wordsworth, in the
"White Doe of Rylstone," using the ancient name, calls "the deep fork
of Amerdale." "Amerdale" has for a long period, however, given place to
"Littondale," Litton being the name of a village on the banks of the
stream. Running north of the Skirfare, and starting from a point a few
miles further west, the Wharfe passes down Langstrothdale in the fell
country, and then through Kettlewelldale to the point of junction with
the Skirfare. The name Langstrothdale has a Celtic ring, and has not
inappropriately been translated to mean the long valley. From here are
supposed to have come the two scholars of Soleres Hall at Cambridge,
mentioned in Chaucer's "Reve's Tale"--
"Of oo towne were they borne that highte Strother,
Efer in the North, I cannot tellen where."
The spot is, however, pretty clearly identified otherwise by Chaucer
himself, the dialect he uses in this tale in connection with the
scholars bearing a close resemblance to the Langstrothdale folk-speech.
It is a speech deserving the attention of the philologist, agreeing as
it does in many of its peculiarities with early English forms.
The head waters of the Wharfe lie far out of the beaten track, in a
district so broken up into hilly grandeur, and commanding from its
heights so many fine glimpses into the dales "where deep and low the
hamlets lie," as to form a fitting introduction to the river that in
its course yields so much beauty and romance. At Beckermonds, "the
mouths of the becks," two small streams unite, and from here the Wharfe
passes downwards into Kettlewelldale. Hubberholme, the first village on
the river of any note, is supposed to be of Danish origin, and is one
of the oldest cluster of houses in this part of the country, possessing
a church, dedicated to St. Michael, the history of which is popularly
supposed to go back to the time of Paulinus. A short distance below
Hubberholme lies Buckden, in a delightful setting of scenery. Then
comes Starbotton, a village taking its name from a stream that runs
through it, and below is Kettlewell, the best starting point for Upper
Wharfedale, and the town from which this section of the river's course
takes its name. Kettlewell figures in Domesday as Chetelwell, and is
said by some authorities to be derived from "the weiler or dwelling
of Chetel." A Norman church of an exceedingly simple pattern remained
here until the beginning of the present century, when the existing
edifice took its place, only the old font remaining as a memorial of
the ancient structure. The town stands at the foot of Great Whernside
(2,310 feet) and close to it also is Buckden Pike (2,304 feet).
Magnificent views may be obtained from both heights. But one need go no
further than the centre of the bridge at Kettlewell to find delightful
glimpses of the course of the Wharfe, both east and west. The river at
this point comes down with a great rush, the descent from its source,
a little over ten miles, exceeding six hundred feet. Two miles or so
south of Kettlewell is the well-known, although not easily found,
Dowkabottom Cave, perhaps the most interesting of the many openings
into the limestone formation in North-West Yorkshire. The entrance
to the cave is on a level terrace on the mountain slope, at a point
1,250 feet above the sea. Five chambers and several passage-ways make
up the cave, in which are many curious natural formations caused by
the percolation of the water through the limestone. The scene inside
is singularly weird and fascinating. But the Dowkabottom Cave is more
than a curiosity. It was one of the homes of primitive man, and it
seems to have been a place of shelter also in the Brito-Roman period.
Bones and skulls of animals were found on the surface when the cave was
discovered, and since then there have been scientific examinations of
the interior, with the result that human skeletons have been unearthed,
together with the bones of the wolf, the wild boar, the horse, the
red deer, sheep, and other animals. Amongst the articles of domestic
use found were bone pins and ornaments belonging to the primeval
occupation, and bronze weapons, armlets, rings, coins, etc., of the
Brito-Roman days. The theory as to the last-mentioned articles is that
the inhabitants of the district found shelter here for a time after
the departure of the Romans, when the Northern tribes, held no longer
in check, came down into the Craven country. To account for the loose
bones, it has been surmised that the wolf may have found a safe den in
this cave long after it was driven out of other parts of England.
[Illustration:
_Walker & Boutall sc._
THE COURSE OF THE WHARFE.]
Returning to the Wharfe, and following the river on its way from
Kettlewell, Coniston is reached--a picturesque village, with a maypole,
trim garden ground in front of most of the houses, and a church which,
according to Whitaker, is the most ancient building in Craven. Since
Whitaker's time the church has been much improved, but it retains
many of its ancient features. From Coniston it is a short walk across
country to Kilnsey, where is a grand stretch of overhanging limestone,
"a promontory," says Phillips, "of the primeval sea loch, which is now
the green valley of the Wharfe." The crag is nearly half a mile in
extent, and rises at its highest part, whence there is a fine view, to
165 feet. A beautifully wooded walk of three miles leads from Coniston
to Grassington, where at one time a good deal of lead was obtained and
smelted. Here is what is said to be the oldest bridge on the river.
What became of some earlier bridges on the same stream is told in an
entry in the church books of Otley, under date 1673. On the 11th of
September in that year there was "a wonderful inundation of waters in
the northern parts," and on that occasion "this river of Wharfe, never
known to be so big within the memory of man, overturned Kettlewell
Bridge, Burnsey Bridge, Barden Bridge, Bolton Bridge, Ilkley Bridge,
and Otley Bridge." It also swept away certain fulling mills of wood,
and "carried them down whole, like to a ship." And when the flood had
passed, "it left neither corn nor cattle on the coast thereof."
[Illustration: SKIPTON CASTLE, FROM ONE OF THE TOWERS.]
Close to Grassington is Threshfield, where there are several old
buildings, and the Grammar School in which Dr. Whitaker, the historian
of Craven, received his early education. Then comes Linton, where
in the old time every woman in the place "could spin flax from the
distaff, or rock as it was called, and could card or spin wool from
the piece." Linton, in those days, was a veritable Arcadia in the
hills, for here there was neither poor's rate nor public-house, and
almost every housekeeper had his "three acres and a cow," or what was
tantamount thereto. There has been a change in these conditions, but
Linton has not lost its look of prosperity and comfort. Close to the
village are what have been called the Falls of the Wharfe--a rocky
break in the river, forming a fine study for the artist. Below Linton
lies Hebden, a village whose character and position are well expressed
in its name--heb, high; and dene, a valley; and across the river
at this point lies Thorpe. At Thorpe we are on the road leading to
Rylstone, the seat of the Nortons, who risked and lost so much in the
"Rising of the North," 1569--
"Thee, Norton, wi' thine eight good sonnes,
They doomed to die; alas! for ruth.
Thy revered lockes thee could not save,
Nor them their fair and blooming youth."
The ballad is an exaggeration, two only of the sons having suffered on
the scaffold. The property, however, was cut off, and the "sequestered
hall" mentioned in the "White Doe" fell into ruins. The name of the
family clings to the district, and is perpetuated in what remains of
the Norton Tower.
"It fronts all quarters, and looks round,
O'er path and road, and plain and dell,
Dark moor, and gleaming pool and stream,
Upon a prospect without bound."
[Illustration: ILKLEY BRIDGE.]
The "White Doe" was the pet of "the exalted Emily, maid of the blasted
family." It was presented to her by her brother, Francis Norton, of
Rylstone. Francis was one of those who perished in the rising of the
North. He was buried in Bolton Abbey, and, according to the legend, the
sister was a frequent visitor to his grave--
"But most to Bolton's sacred pile,
On favouring nights she longed to go;
There ranged through cloister, court, and aisle,
Attended by the soft-paced doe.
Nor did she fear in the soft moonshine
To look upon St. Mary's shrine,
Nor on the lonely turf that showed
Where Francis slept in his last abode."
Lying below Thorpe and Hebden is Burnsall, and here the scenery,
especially along the banks of the river, is rich in picturesque beauty.
Burnsall is Brinshale in Domesday. It is a place where well-worship
must have prevailed from a remote time, as is evidenced in its
"Thorsill" or Thor's well, and in its other wells dedicated to St.
Margaret and St. Helena. Owing to a peculiarity in the division of
the manor, the parish at one time rejoiced in two rectors and two
rectories, with two pulpits and two stalls in the church. Originally
Norman, the church has undergone repair at different times. The latest
restoration was in 1859. An inscription on a tablet inside the tower
speaks of an earlier work in the same direction, describing how in
1012 the fabric was repaired and beautified at the "onlie coste and
charges of Sir William Craven, Knight and Alderman of the Citie of
London, and late Lord Mayor of the same." Sir William was a native of
Appletreewick close by. His career recalls that of Whittington. He went
up to London under the care of a carrier, got employment in the family
of a mercer, and eventually excelled his master in business. He was
Lord Mayor in 1611. His eldest son distinguished himself in the service
of Gustavus Adolphus and the Prince of Orange, and married the Queen of
Bohemia. "Thus," says Whitaker, with a touch of pride, "the son of the
Wharfedale peasant matched with the sister of Charles I."
Sir William Craven also erected and endowed the Grammar School of the
village. At this school Eugene Aram is said to have been an usher. A
more interesting character than Aram was the Rev. John Alcock, master
of the school in Aram's time, and rector of a moiety of the parish.
It is said of him that on one occasion, when preaching on behalf of
some benevolent object, he noticed his congregation becoming restless.
"Oh yes," he said, "I see how it is. You want your dinners; so do I.
Very well, there's sermon enough left for another spell, and so we'll
postpone the remainder till next anniversary." On another occasion he
had no sermon to deliver at all; he had either mislaid or lost his MS.
"It's no matter," he said to the clerk, loud enough for all to hear;
"hand me up that Bible, and I'll read a chapter in Job worth two of
it." Nor is this the only instance showing how coolly this eccentric
clergyman could meet an emergency. There is a story to the effect that
the pages of a sermon he had were stitched together in such a way as to
confuse the argument. He did not discover this until about to announce
the text, when he quietly explained what had happened, adding "I've no
time to put the leaves right. I shall read them as I find them. You
can put everything straight yourselves when you get home." "That's an
awkward word," he said to a lady when she came to the "obey" in the
marriage service; "you can skip on to the next!"
Leaving Burnsall, the Wharfe skirts Hartlington, and flows past
Appletreewick. Both of these places trace their history back to Saxon
times. There is much to see here, amongst other things caverns worth
exploring, and a great collection of boulders known as "the Apronful of
Stones." The legend of the stones is that the devil was carrying them,
for some purpose best known to himself, when he stumbled over a knoll,
causing the apron to give way with the weight that was in it, and the
stones to assume their present position. On the river to the south
lies Howgill, and we are now close to Simon's Seat (1,593 feet), from
whose summit fine views of Upper and Lower Wharfedale and neighbouring
valleys are obtained. The name Simon in this connection has been traced
to the northern hero Sigmund; but the legend among the dalesmen is that
a shepherd once found a male child on the top of the mountain, and
adopted the infant, whom he named Simon. As the boy grew up the burden
of keeping him was shared by different shepherds. The little fellow was
cared for, in fact, "amang 'em;" and "Amanghem" became his surname--a
name, whatever is to be said for the story, that is borne by some
families in this part of the country.
Simon's Seat rises gradually from the Wharfe, and it is an easy descent
from its slopes to Barden Tower, whose grey ruins look grandly over a
wild and beautiful scene. Barden Tower was the home of Henry Clifford,
"the Shepherd Lord," and may be taken as a landmark dividing Upper from
Lower Wharfedale. The story of the Shepherd Lord, although some four
centuries old, is known by oral transmission all over the countryside
here. Unlike a good many of the other tales common among the dalesmen,
it has the merit of truth. Its hero was the eldest son of John, "the
Black Clifford," who was struck down on the eve of the battle of
Towton, and whose estates were forfeited by the issue of that day. The
Clifford heir, then a boy of five years, was sent for protection, after
the battle, into Cumberland, where he was brought up as a shepherd.
He pursued this life for about twenty-five years, and when, on the
accession of Henry VII., he secured the inheritance of his ancestors,
his desire for a quiet and simple life was shown in the selection he
made of Barden Tower for his residence. He found the tower a small keep
or lodge, and enlarged it sufficiently to provide accommodation for
a few of his friends. Here he spent his time studying astronomy and
alchemy, and enjoying the company of such of the monks of Bolton as
had similar tastes. The Shepherd Lord could fight valiantly when the
need arose, and the dalesmen rallied around his standard when, in his
sixtieth year, he went onwards to Flodden:--
"From Penigent to Pendle Hill,
From Linton to Long Addingham,
And all that Craven coasts did till,
They with the lusty Clifford came."
The Shepherd Lord survived Flodden about ten years. After his death,
Barden Tower was only occasionally used by the Cliffords, and was
allowed to fall into decay. An inscription over the gateway states that
it was repaired by Lady Anne Clifford, Countess of Pembroke, Dorset,
and Montgomery, "and High Sheriffesse by inheritance of the county
of Westmorland." This was in the years 1658-9, "after it had layne
ruinous ever since about 1589, when her mother then lay in it, and was
greate with childe with her, till now that it was repayred by the sayd
lady." "The said lady" did a great deal for the houses of her family;
hence a citation at the close of the Barden inscription (Isaiah lviii.
12)--"Thou shalt build up the foundations of many generations, and thou
shalt be called the repairer of the breach, the restorer of paths to
dwell in." A small chapel adjoins the ruin, and a part of the tower
adjoining the chapel is used as a farmhouse. The property, like the
Bolton estate below, now belongs to the Duke of Devonshire.
[Illustration: THE BRIDGE, OTLEY.]
From Barden Tower the Wharfe falls rapidly over a rocky course, densely
wooded on both sides, towards the famous "Strid," a narrow gorge in the
rocky bed, through which the water rushes at a furious speed. The name
"Strid" has two derivations given to it. One, in common acceptance, is
that it is so called because it is possible at this point to stride
over the chasm. The more likely derivation is the Anglo-Saxon "stryth,"
or turmoil. The common meaning, however, suggests the tradition that
gives romantic interest to the spot. It was here over seven centuries
ago, as the story goes, that "the Boy of Egremond," the heir to the
Romillys, perished in the flood while out hunting.
"He sprang in glee, for what cared he
That the river was strong and the rocks were steep?
But the greyhound in the leash hung back,
And checked him in his leap.
The Boy is in the arms of Wharfe,
And strangled by a merciless force;
For never more was young Romilly seen
Till he rose a lifeless corse."
[Illustration: FARNLEY HALL.]
Connected with this legend is the founding of Bolton Abbey, situated in
the meadow land close to the river some distance below. It is said that
the falconer hastened back to the Lady Alice, the mother of the boy,
and broke the sad news with the significant question, "What is good for
a bootless bene?" Wordsworth scarcely varies from the story as it is
still told in the locality:--
"'What is good for a bootless bene?'
The Falconer to the Lady said;
And she made answer, 'Endless sorrow!'
For she knew that her son was dead;
She knew it by the Falconer's words,
And from the look of the Falconer's eye,
And from the love that was in her soul
For her youthful Romilly."
The story goes that when the Lady Alice fully realised what had
happened she vowed, now all hope was gone from her, that many a poor
man's son should be her heir. According to the legend, she selected
a site for a priory, as near to the scene of the accident as she
could find one, and when "the pious structure fair to see" rose up,
she transferred it to the Monks of Embsay, in the bleak hilly region
beyond. The charter and the romance do not, however, agree. The
conveyance of the ground at Bolton to the monks appears to have been
made before the accident at the Strid, as the son is named in the
document as a party to the transaction, and the reading indicates that
the land had been given over in a prosaic fashion by way of exchange.
It has been surmised by believers in the story that after the drowning
the monks came to the bereaved lady and induced her to build a priory
on what was now their property on the Wharfe, as a memorial to her son.
Her mother, Cecily, the wife of William de Meschines, and heiress of
William de Romilly, had joined with her husband in 1120 in founding the
Embsay Priory for Augustinian Canons, the site being two miles east
of Skipton. The Embsay endowment, handsome enough to begin with, was
increased by the gift of the village and mill at Kildwick and lands
at Stratton, the deed setting forth that this was done by the heiress
of the Romillys "for the health of her soul and that of her parents."
It is stated in the charter that the conveyance in this instance was
made by the Lady Cecily, mother of Alice, and William, her son-in-law,
placing a knife on the altar of the conventual church. This William,
a nephew of David, King of Scotland, was married to Alice, who in her
turn became heiress of the estates, and adopted her mother's name.
She bore her husband two sons and three daughters. The younger son,
"the Boy of Egremond"--so named after one of the baronies of the
family--survived his brother until, according to the legend, the sad
incident at the Strid put an end to the bright promise of his life, and
left his mother in "endless sorrow."
Situated on a bend of the Wharfe, with a mountainous background, and
an open sylvan expanse of country in front, through which the river
moves in a clear, uninterrupted course, the Abbey rises in a scene of
great sweetness and beauty. The building, like most other works of
its kind, shows traces of the workmanship of different periods; but,
unlike similar structures in the same county, it is not wholly a ruin.
The nave, roofed over, and partly restored, forms the parish church of
Bolton. It is entered through the gateway of what was intended for a
western tower, and retains fortunately the original west front, finely
detailed, with much arcading, in the Early English style. The entrance,
forming the first stage of the contemplated tower, shows excellent
Perpendicular work. On the spandrels of the recessed doorway are the
arms of the Priory and the Cliffords, and above is a lofty five-light
window. The tower was begun by the last of the priors, Richard Moone,
as set forth on an inscription (the name symbolised) on the cornice
below the window, "In the yer of owr Lord MDCXX, R. [Illustration:
Moon] begaun thes fondachon on qwho sowl God haue marce. Amen." The
Dissolution put a stop to Prior Moone's work, but it is said that
long after this the crane that was used to raise the stones remained
fixed, and there was a belief among the dalespeople that the canons
would return and complete the building. The nave, which is without
a south aisle, is Early English on that side, and Decorated on the
north. At the end of the aisle on the north is a chantry founded by the
Mauleverers of Beamsley, and beneath is the vault in which members of
the family are said to have been buried upright--
"Pass, pass who will, yon chantry door,
And through the chink in the fractured floor,
Look down, and see a grisly sight--
A vault where the bodies are buried upright!"
The ruined portions of the structure include the piers of a central
tower, north and south transepts, and a long but aisleless choir, with
the remains of chapels on the south side. With the exception of the
lower walls, the work here is of the Decorated period, and shows many
interesting features. There are monumental fragments, and in the south
transept may be seen a tomb-slab with an incised figure representing
Christopher Wood, the eighteenth prior, who resigned in 1483. Scant
remains of the conventual buildings may be traced to the south of the
Priory ruins. To the north is the churchyard. The Priory barn remains
in good condition. It is still in use, and has some fine timber work.
A short distance west is Bolton Hall, a seat of the Duke of Devonshire.
This mansion makes a framework to the gatehouse of the old Priory,
the entrance-chamber being formed out of the ancient gateway. The
chamber is represented in Landseer's picture of "Bolton Priory in
the Olden Time," now at Chatsworth. There are other matters that
recall the past conditions of the place even more vividly, as in the
case of a Commission sent hither so early as 1274, in which certain
irregularities are set forth in these blunt words:--"The whole convent
conspired against the predecessors of the present Prior, William de
Danfield. Nicholas de Broe, the present sub-prior, is old and useless.
Silence is not observed, and there is much chattering and noise. John
de Pontefract, the present cellarer, and the sub-cellarer, are often
absent from service and refections, and have their meals by themselves,
when the canons have left the refectory. The house is in debt," etc.
But Dr. Robert Collyer of New York, a Wharfedale worthy, who has gone
into the records, tells also how "the merry old rogues" had a certain
rough humour, which came out in the names they gave their humbler
brethren. "One poor fellow," he says, "has stood on their books these
six hundred years as Adam Blunder, a sort of primitive Handy Andy, I
suppose. Another, with 'a fair round belly,' no doubt, they dub Simon
Paunch. A third is Drunken Dick. A fourth, the cooper, as I guess,
and a great hand to spoil his work, is Botch Bucket. The carter is
laughingly baptized The Whirl, perhaps because his wheels never do
whirl by any accident. One is Rado the Sad; and the blackest sheep of
the flock is Tom Nowt--'nowt' in the Dales as applied to a man being
still a term of the utmost contempt."
The Priory was surrendered in 1540, and the estate was given, two years
afterwards, by Henry VIII. to Henry Clifford, first Earl of Cumberland.
The property next passed to the Earl of Cork, and thence by descent to
the Cavendish family.
The grounds over the wide stretch from Barden Tower to Bolton Bridge
are open daily (except Sundays) to visitors. Their natural attractions,
with their relics and associations, make them one of the most
interesting of the show places of Yorkshire. There are two memorials on
the estate to Lord Frederick Cavendish, Chief Secretary for Ireland,
assassinated in the Phoenix Park, Dublin, May 6, 1882. One, in the
churchyard, in the form of an interlaced cross, rising seventeen
feet, was erected by the tenantry. The other--a hexagonal fountain,
rising into pinnacles with a small lantern crown--is in the Park, and
was erected by the electors of the West Riding, of which division of
Yorkshire Lord Frederick was for many years a representative.
[Illustration: RUINS OF HAREWOOD CASTLE.]
It is a pleasant walk from the Priory to the bridge, across the field
on which Prince Rupert encamped on the way to Marston Moor. At Bolton
Bridge we get to what is now the nearest railway-station for Upper
Wharfedale, a connecting line between Ilkley and Skipton having been
opened in 1888. From the bridge the river flows past Beamsley, behind
which is Beamsley Beacon (1,314 feet). In the village is a hospital
founded in the time of Elizabeth, and endowed for thirteen poor widows.
Beamsley Hall, near by, retains some old features, including armorial
bearings of the Claphams and Morleys, its early possessors. The road
here follows the Wharfe through diversified scenery, and leads to
Addingham, where is a church which was originally served from Bolton.
Here also on the bank of the Wharfe is Farfield Hall, a fine mansion,
from whose site commanding views are obtained.
Ilkley, three miles further down the stream, is a town of great
interest and attractiveness in the modern sense, with a far reaching
history. As seen to-day it is almost wholly new; half a century ago it
was made up of a few old cottages and its ancient church. Its value as
a health resort, and its delightful situation, have since then been
fully recognised, and it is now a fashionable inland watering-place
with well laid-out streets, and some fine buildings. The records of
the town go back to the time of the Romans, and its existing name
is supposed to be a corruption of the designation given to it by
the Western conquerors. The Romans had here a strong fortress, the
foundations of which may be traced. Some interesting Roman relics are
preserved in the neighbourhood. On the grounds at Middleton Hall, on
the opposite side of the river, is an altar dedicated to the Wharfe,
the river figuring in the inscription as "Verbeia." In the churchyard
at Ilkley are the shafts of crosses, very rudely sculptured, and
undoubtedly very ancient. The church, dedicated to All Saints, is an
old foundation, and has some curious features. Its earliest monument
is a cross-legged effigy of Sir Adam de Middleton, who died in 1315.
The ground rises steeply to the south behind Ilkley, and at a height
of 1,300 feet spreads out into a magnificent heathery expanse known
as Rombald's Moor. "Rombald" is said to be a corruption of "Romilly,"
the first Norman lord of the manor; but there is a tradition which
speaks of the moor as a promenade of a certain giant Rombald, a mighty
figure that is said to have made a stride one day across the valley
from Almescliffe Crag far beyond in the north-east, and to have come
down with such force as to leave the impression of his foot on the
larger of the two rocks above Ilkley, known as the Cow and Calf. The
impression is there, of course. The story may have had its origin
in the manner in which the valley at this point was absorbed in the
interest of the Romillys. From the high land at the Cow and Calf, and
from many other points east and west, fine views are obtained of the
valley, now opening out to a grand pastoral sweep. On the slopes are
several hydropathic establishments of a public and private character.
Nearly all are noted for picturesque architectural treatment. This is
especially the case with Ilkley Wells, where there is an observation
tower, and the still earlier house in the Scotch baronial style, a mile
and a half east, at Ben Rhydding, opened in 1844.
Across the river from Ben Rhydding lies Denton, the home of the
Fairfaxes; and from this point onwards to the Ouse incidents and houses
connected with this great family present themselves. In Denton Church
many of the name lie buried. The present Denton Hall occupies the site
of the old mansion in which Sir Thomas Fairfax, the Parliamentary
General, was born. At Burley, on the south bank of the Wharfe, a short
distance from Ben Rhydding, is the Yorkshire house of the late W. E.
Forster. Here, too, at the river side, are the worsted mills of which
Mr. Forster was a part owner, and in the cemetery beyond is his grave,
with an inscribed slab to his memory. On the other side of the river is
Weston Hall, the property of the Vavasours through a long succession.
Family papers at Weston date back to Henry III., and amongst other
treasures is an original portrait of Cromwell. Farther east on the same
side is Farnley Hall, where are relics of the Commonwealth, including
the hat worn by Cromwell at Marston Moor, and the watch and sword
of the Protector. Farnley Hall used to be notable also for a unique
collection of about fifty drawings by Turner, which were sold in 1890.
Turner was a frequent visitor at Farnley Hall, Mr. Walter Fawkes, uncle
of the present owner, being one of his earliest patrons and friends.
A curious gateway on the property was brought from Menston Hall, a
Fairfax seat on the south bank of the river.
It is a pleasant descent from Farnley Hall to the Wharfe, on whose
south bank at this point is Otley, one of the first towns in Yorkshire
to engage in the manufacture of cloth. Otley was long the site of a
palace of the Archbishops of York, who were lords of the manor, and
is now the headquarters of the Parliamentary division bearing its
name. Several of the Fairfaxes are buried in the church. Sloping from
the town to the south is the hill familiarly known as "The Chevin"
(probably from the Saxon "chevn," a back or ridge). The hill rises
to a height of 921 feet, and commands fine views. Near the town is
Caley Hall, famous at one time for a park in which many varieties of
deer, wild hogs, zebras, and other animals were kept. At Pool, just
below Otley, the river expands, and flows pleasantly through the open
valley to Arthington (where was once a house for Cluniac or Benedictine
nuns), and onwards to the Harewood estates. Here we are still on part
of the wide domain held by the ancient Romillys, who are credited
with the building of the first Harewood Castle. From the Romillys the
Harewood lands passed to the Fitzgeralds, the Lisles, and others, and
then to the Gascoignes, from whom they went to the Lascelles (Earls of
Harewood), the present possessors. The ruins of a castle built in the
fourteenth century rise boldly on a pre-Norman mound near the river.
The church at Harewood has some interesting details, and a number of
historic monuments--one to Sir William Gascoigne (the Chief Justice
who is said to have committed the heir of Henry IV. to prison) and his
wife. Harewood House, built in 1760, is seen to advantage from the
church. It is a porticoed building, and was erected by the first Lord
Harewood, to replace Gawthorpe Hall, the seat of the Gascoignes, and
the birthplace of the Chief Justice. To Gawthorpe Hall came at times
the great Lord Strafford in search of repose. "With what quietness,"
he wrote, "could I live here in comparison with the noise and labour I
meet with elsewhere; and, I protest, put up more crownes in my purse at
the year's end too." In the same parish is the village of Weeton, above
which, on the summit of a hill, is a peculiarly shaped rock, known
as "the Great Almescliffe." From the rock a fine view is obtained of
Wharfedale on the one side, and of Harrogate and the district leading
into Nidderdale on the other.
From Harewood the Wharfe sweeps placidly onwards to Netherby, and
to Collingham and Linton, where there is fine farming country. Then
Wetherby is reached on a bend of the river, hence the old Saxon name,
Wederbi, "the turn." There is a bridge here of six arches, affording
a good view of the stream. Boston Spa--a secluded inland watering
place--is the next village. Then comes Newton Kyme, with a fine old
church, and the remains of a castle that was held by the Barons de
Kyme, the last of whom died as far back as 1358. We are now again on
ground over which Roman legions passed, and from which relics of the
Roman occupation have been unearthed. The church, dedicated to St.
Andrew, is old and interesting, with an ivy-covered embattled western
tower. Close to the church is Newton Hall, an old Fairfax seat, with
portraits of members of that family.
A mile and a half further down is Tadcaster, the Calcaria of the
Romans, and the "Langborough" of later times. The Roman name is
supposed to have been given on account of the abundance of calx or
limestone in the district. Tadcaster was an important outpost of
York. Through it ran the road of Agricola--still known as the Roman
ridge--from London to Edinburgh, and it was also on the ancient road
between York and Manchester. Near the town, at a place called St.
Helen's Ford, are traces of a Roman encampment. Of more interest,
however, than what Tadcaster reveals of that remote period of its
history are the associations that cluster round it in connection with
the civil wars. Three miles distant, near to the village of Saxton,
is the site of the battle of Towton, "the bloodiest and most fatal
engagement fought on English soil since Hastings." Sore fought Towton
was, "for hope of life was set on every part," and each side had its
awful orders neither to give nor seek quarter. A force of 100,000
men in all mustered for the struggle--40,000 Yorkists with Edward
IV. and the Earl of Warwick at their head on the one side; on the
other, 60,000 Lancastrians, with whom were Queen Margaret and the
Duke of Somerset. About a third of this force perished on the field,
the greater number being Lancastrians. The date of the battle is
memorable. All the villagers round about tell to this day how it was
fought on a Palm Sunday in the long ago. The conflict really began on
the Saturday (March 29th, 1461), was suspended during the night, and
renewed with vigour in the morning. The issue was decided about noon
on the Sunday, the Duke of Norfolk, with reinforcements for Edward,
giving the Yorkists an advantage at the critical moment which was at
once followed up. Twenty-eight thousand Lancastrians were left dead
upon the field, and vast numbers perished in the rout that took place.
A field near Towton Dale Quarry, half a mile south of Towton village,
and known as "the Bloody Meadow," is pointed out as the scene of the
thickest of the fight; but the conflict extended over a wide area, and
Towton battlefield may be said to cover the whole ground between Saxton
and Towton villages. The Cock, a tributary of the Wharfe, winds round
the site. In the swollen waters of this stream many of the Lancastrians
perished when they broke rank and fled. On the outskirts of Grimston
Park (the seat of Lord Londesborough) near by, is a field called Battle
Acre, where the Lancastrians are said to have made their last stand;
and here there is annually a prolific growth of white roses--
There is a patch of wild white roses, that bloom on a battlefield,
Where the rival rose of Lancaster blushed redder still to yield;
Four hundred years have o'er them shed their sunshine and their snow,
But in spite of plough and harrow, every summer there they blow.
Though ready to uproot them with hand profane you toil,
The faithful flowers still fondly cluster round the sacred soil;
Though tenderly transplanted to the nearest garden gay,
Nor rest nor care can tempt them there to live a single day.
Opposite Towton is Hazlewood Hall, the seat of an ancient Yorkshire
family, the Vavasours. The hall commands an extensive view, and it is
said that from it on a clear day the towers of Lincoln on the one side,
and York on the other, sixty miles apart, may be seen.
[Illustration: AT TADCASTER.]
From two to three miles south-east of Tadcaster is Kirkby Wharfe,
where there is a church with some fine Norman remains--notably the
pillars of the nave, the porch doorway, and the font. There is also a
Saxon cross. The church, which is dedicated to St. John the Baptist,
was restored in 1861, in memory of Albert, first Baron Londesborough.
The school is at Ulleskelf, one mile to the south-east, where there
is a railway station, and a Jubilee memorial in the form of a
chapel-of-ease. It is a short walk from here to Bolton Percy, where
also there is a station. Bolton Percy was one of the manors granted
by the Conqueror to William de Percy, founder of the great house of
that name. From a wood in the neighbourhood, the Percys are said to
have granted timber for the building of York Minster. The existing
church dates from the early part of the fifteenth century, and nearly
the whole of it is of that period. It is a noble Perpendicular
building, with an exceptionally fine chancel. The east window, rising
full twenty-three feet, with a depth of fourteen, presents five
unbroken lights. Figured on it are full-length life-size portraits of
Archbishops Scrope, Bowet, Kempe, Booth, and Neville, with the armorial
bearings of these worthies. Above are representations of Scriptural
characters. The living, which exceeds £1,200, is in the gift of the
Archbishop of York, and is the richest at his disposal. At Bolton Percy
the Fairfaxes were a power in their time. Ferdinando, Lord Fairfax, has
an elaborate monument in Bolton Percy Church. To make room for it, one
of the chancel piers had to be cut away. The son of Ferdinando--"Black
Tom," the General-in-Chief of the Parliamentary forces--died at Nun
Appleton Hall, on the south bank of the Wharfe, below Bolton Percy, and
is buried at Bilbrough, in the same neighbourhood. Nun Appleton passed
by purchase, on the death of the daughter of Thomas Lord Fairfax, to
Alderman Milner, of Leeds, whose descendant (Sir Frederick Milner,
Bart.) is the present owner. From Nun Appleton the Wharfe passes onward
to Ryther (where is a church that was founded in 1100), and just below
Ryther it falls into the Ouse.
W. S. CAMERON.
[Illustration: KIRKBY WHARFE.]
[Illustration: THE OUSE AT YORK.]
THE HUMBER AND ITS TRIBUTARIES.