THE MANUFACTURING DISTRICT
In the south-western parts of Yorkshire there still remains sufficient
unspoiled scenery to remind us that, before industrialism claimed this
area, it was as picturesque as many parts of the North Riding. No
landscape in the world can remain beautiful when its atmosphere is
polluted with grime, when ugly black villages are huddled near big
factories and tall shafts, and when once luxuriant vegetation is
blighted by sulphurous vapours. If a government brought into power with
a mandate for beautifying England seriously set to work, no doubt smoke,
the greatest trouble of all, could be dealt with by the compulsory use
of some improved form of smoke-destructor. Following on this would come
a thousand boons, and perhaps before another century had passed, in a
clearer atmosphere, men might see things plainer, and light those
Beltane fires in which Mr. H. G. Wells pictures the destruction of all
the ugliness in this country.
Smoke and blackness being allowed to have its own happy-go-lucky way, we
find, even on the very outskirts of the manufacturing district, that the
towns are not exactly the places we should choose in selecting an
objective for a vacation. Thus, Selby, although surrounded by pleasant
unspoiled country, seems infected by the smoky towns a few miles to the
west, and has black roads and the unsatisfactory suggestion of poverty
everywhere. The great abbey church shows its long roof-line over dull
houses, and does its best to make up for the deficiencies of the town.
In this it is not very successful, having only a low central tower, and
the severe character of the Norman and Early English work of the western
half deprives the building of any outline which would relieve the
monotonous appearance of the town. Even the Ouse adds no charm to Selby,
for its sluggish waters flow between muddy banks without a trace of the
picturesque. There is only one place where we can forget the sense of
disappointment Selby gives, and that is inside the abbey church, where
now, alas! the transepts and choir are still in the hands of masons and
carpenters, who are renewing the stone and wood destroyed in the recent
fire. Buildings of this character seem almost as though they could not
be burnt, and probably if the choir roof had been vaulted with stone, as
appears to have been originally intended, the fire would have been
confined to the north transept and the chapel adjoining, where the newly
constructed organ was being completed.
It was before midnight on October 19, 1906, that the flames were first
seen bursting from the Latham Chapel, where the organ was placed. The
Selby fire brigade with their small engine were confronted with a task
entirely beyond their powers, and though the men worked heroically, they
were quite unable to prevent the fire from spreading to the roofs of the
chancel and nave, and consuming all that was inflammable within the
tower. By about three in the morning fire-engines from Leeds and York
had arrived, and with a copious supply of water from the river, it was
hoped that the double roof of the nave might have been saved, but the
fire had obtained too fierce a hold, and by 4.30 a correspondent
telegraphed:
‘The flames are through the west-end roof. The whole building will
now be destroyed from end to end. The flames are pouring out of the
roof, and the lead of the roof is running down in molten streams.
The scene is magnificent but pathetic, and the whole of the noble
building is now doomed. The whole of the inside is a fiery furnace.
The seating is in flames, and the firemen are in considerable
danger if they stay any longer, as the false roof is now burned
through.
‘The false roof is falling in, and the flames are ascending 30 feet
above the building. Dense clouds of smoke are pouring out.’
About the same time the timbers in the tower were burnt to such an
extent that they could no longer support the weight above.
‘The falling of the bells from the tower provided one of the most
exciting incidents. They came down into the already ruined mass
with a great crash, and sent up a tremendous shower of sparks,
which flew to a great height into the air, and, spreading out, fell
like a great firework display over the river.’
When the fire was vanquished, it had practically completed its work of
destruction. Besides reducing to charred logs and ashes all the timber
in the great building, the heat had been so intense that glass windows
had been destroyed, tracery demolished, carved finials and capitals
reduced to powder, and even the massive piers by the north transept,
where the furnace of flame reached its maximum intensity, became so
calcined and cracked that they were left in a highly dangerous
condition.
Only a day or two before this disaster I spent some hours in the abbey
church, wandering through the dark Norman aisles and the less sombre
chancel, noting many beautiful features which I little realized would
cease to exist in a very few days. When I next visited Selby, it was to
find the churchyard converted into a mason’s workshop, and the interior
of the building filled with a complicated mass of timber framework,
supporting the cracked and calcined masonry.
Fortunately the splendid Norman nave was not badly damaged, and after a
new roof had been built, it was easily made ready for holding services.
The two bays nearest to the transept are early Norman, and on the south
side the massive circular column is covered with a plain grooved
diaper-work, almost exactly the same as may be seen at Durham Cathedral.
All the rest of the nave is Transitional Norman except the Early English
clerestory, and is a wonderful study in the progress from early Norman
to Early English.
On the floor on the south side of the nave by one of the piers is a slab
to the memory of a maker of grave-stones, worded in this quaint
fashion:
‘Here Lyes yᵉ Body of poor Frank Raw
Parish Clark and Gravestone Cutter:
And yˢ is writt to let yʷ know:
W^ʰᵗ Frank for Othʳˢ us’d to do,
Is now for Frank done by Another.
Buried March yᵉ 31, 1706.’
A stone on the floor of the retro-choir to John Johnson, master and
mariner, dated 1737, is crowded with nautical metaphor.
‘Tho’ Boreas with his Blustring blasts
Has tos’t me to and fro,
Yet by the handy work of God
I’m here Inclos’d below
And in this Silent Bay I lie
With many of our Fleet
Untill the Day that I Set Sail
My Admiral Christ to meet.’
The great Perpendicular east window was considered by Pugin to be one of
the most beautiful of its type in England, and the risk it ran of being
entirely destroyed during the fire was very great. The design of the
glass illustrates the ancestry of Christ from Jesse, and a considerable
portion of it is original.
Of the grave-slabs of the abbots of Selby, the earliest is that of
Alexander, who held the office from 1214 to 1221. In the floor of the
north aisle of the choir is a very much mutilated alabaster slab to
that abbot--John de Shireburn--who, it will be remembered, was one of
the chief witnesses in the great law-suit in the fourteenth century
between Lord Scrope of Bolton Castle in Wensleydale and Sir Robert
Grosvenor, as to the right to bear the arms ‘_azure_, a bend _or_.’
Shireburn stated that those arms were in the porch of the infirmary of
Selby Abbey, and that they were always attributed to the Scropes, in
whose favour the case was decided. William Pygot, who was the next
abbot, succeeded in 1407; John Cave followed him in 1429, and both are
buried near Abbot Shireburn. A terribly mutilated effigy of a knight in
chain-armour is also preserved in the choir. Head, arms, and legs are
missing, but the arms on the surcoat are those of Saltmarshe, and the
figure no doubt represented one of the members of that ancient family.
Although it cannot be denied that Selby Abbey suffered severely in the
great conflagration of two years ago, yet its greatest association with
history, the Norman nave, is still intact. At the eastern end of the
nave we can still look upon the ponderous arches of the Benedictine
Abbey Church, founded by William the Conqueror in 1069 as a mark of his
gratitude for the success of his arms in the north of England, even as
Battle Abbey was founded in the south.
Going to the west as far as Pontefract, we come to the actual borders of
the coal-mine and factory-bestrewn country. Although the history of
Pontefract is so detailed and so rich, it has long ago been robbed of
nearly every building associated with the great events of its past, and
its present appearance is intensely disappointing. The town stands on a
hill, and has a wide and cheerful market-place possessing an
eighteenth-century ‘cross’ on big open arches. It is a plain, classic
structure, ‘erected by Mrs. Elisabeth Dupier Relict of Solomon Dupier,
Gent, in a cheerful and generous Compliance with his benevolent
Intention Anº Dom’ 1734.’
The castle stood at the northern end of the town on a rocky eminence
just suited for the purposes of an early fortress, but of the stately
towers and curtain walls which have successively been reared above the
scarps, practically nothing besides foundations remains. The base of the
great round tower, prominent in all the prints of the castle in the time
of its greatest glory, fragments of the lower parts of other towers and
some dungeons or magazines are practically the only features of the
historic site that the imagination finds to feed
[Illustration: NEW HALL, PONTEFRACT
This fine old Tudor mansion is now in ruins. It stands just to the north
of Pontefract, and was occupied by the Parliamentary troops during the
sieges of 1644 and 1645.]
upon. A long flight of steps leads into the underground chambers, on
whose walls are carved the names of various prisoners taken during the
siege of 1648. Below the castle, on the east side, is the old church of
All Saints with its ruined nave, eloquent of the destruction wrought by
the Parliamentary cannon in the successive sieges, and to the north
stands New Hall, the stately Tudor mansion of Lord George Talbot, now
reduced to the melancholy wreck depicted in these pages. The girdle of
fortifications constructed by the besiegers round the castle included
New Hall, in case it might have been reached by a sally of the
Royalists, whose cannon-balls, we know, carried as far, from the
discovery of one embedded in the masonry. Coats of arms of the Talbots
can still be seen on carved stones on the front walls over the entrance.
The date, 1591, is believed to be later than the time of the erection of
the house, which, in the form of its parapets and other details,
suggests the style of Henry VIII.’s reign. It is exceedingly probable
that Lord George Talbot, who was granted the Priory of St. John the
Evangelist at Pontefract by the Crown soon after the Dissolution, built
this stately mansion, to a considerable extent, with the materials of
the demolished monastery, for many of the stones bear Norman and later
carving, and even the wooden beams have palpably been used in an earlier
building. Nearly all the outer structures of the courtyard on the east
side have disappeared; in 1828 the north tower fell, and year by year
the decay of the walls advances.
Although we can describe in a very few words the historic survivals of
Pontefract, to deal even cursorily with the story of the vanished castle
and modernized town is a great undertaking, so numerous are the great
personages and famous events of English history connected with its
owners, its prisoners, and its sieges.
The name Pontefract has suggested such an obvious derivation that, from
the early topographers up to the present time, efforts have been made to
discover the broken bridge giving rise to the new name, which replaced
the Saxon Kyrkebi. No one has yet succeeded in this quest, and the
absence of any river at Pontefract makes the search peculiarly hopeless.
At Castleford, a few miles north-west of Pontefract, where the Roman
Ermine Street crossed the confluence of the Aire and the Calder, it is
definitely known that there was only a ford. The present name does not
make any appearance until several years after the Norman Conquest,
though Ilbert de Lacy received the great fief, afterwards to become the
Honour of Pontefract, in 1067, the year after the Battle of Hastings.
Ilbert built the first stone castle on the rock, and either to him or
his immediate successors may be attributed the Norman walls and chapel,
whose foundations still exist on the north and east sides of the castle
yard. During his advance towards York for the conquest of the north of
England, William the Norman was delayed for three weeks at Castleford,
owing to the river being so flooded that it could not be crossed even
with boats, and it was no doubt during his enforced stay on the south
side of the river that he realized the importance of the site of
Pontefract; and if Ilbert de Lacy were with him at the time, it is
reasonable to suppose that the Norman lord expressed to the Conqueror
his liking for the neighbourhood.
The De Lacys held Pontefract until 1193, when Robert died without issue,
the castle and lands passing by marriage to Richard Fitz-Eustace; and
the male line again became extinct in 1310, when Thomas, Earl of
Lancaster, married Alice, the heiress of Henry de Lacy. Henry’s
great-grandfather was the Roger de Lacy, Justiciar and Constable of
Chester, who is famous for his heroic defence of Château Gaillard, in
Normandy, for nearly a year, when John weakly allowed Philip Augustus to
continue the siege, making only one feeble attempt at relief. Thomas,
Earl of Lancaster, who was a cousin of Edward II., was more or less in
continual opposition to the king, on account of his determination to rid
the Court of the royal favourites, and it was with Lancaster’s full
consent that Piers Gaveston was beheaded at Blacklow Hill, near Warwick,
in 1312. For this Edward never forgave his cousin, and when, during the
fighting which followed the recall of the Despensers, Lancaster was
obliged to surrender after the Battle of Boroughbridge, Edward had his
revenge. The Earl was brought to his own castle at Pontefract, where the
King lay, and there accused of rebellion, of coming to the Parliaments
with armed men, and of being in league with the Scots. Without even
being allowed a hearing, he was condemned to death as a traitor, and the
next day, June 19, 1322, mounted on a sorry nag without a bridle, he was
led to a hill outside the town, and executed with his face towards
Scotland.
In the last year of the same century Richard II. died in imprisonment in
the castle, not long after the Parliament had decided that the deposed
King should be permanently immured in an out-of-the-way place.
Hardyng’s Chronicle records the journeying from one castle to another in
the lines:
‘The Kyng the[n] sent Kyng Richard to Ledis,
There to be kepte surely in previtee,
Fro the[n]s after to Pykeryng we[n]t he nedes,
And to Knauesburgh after led was he,
But to Pountfrete last where he did die.’
Archbishop Scrope affirmed that Richard died of starvation, while
Shakespeare makes Sir Piers of Exton his murderer.
_King Richard._ How now! what means death in this rude assault?
Villain, thy own hand yields thy death’s instrument.
(_Snatching an axe from a servant and killing him._)
Go thou, and fill another room in hell.
(_He kills another. Then Exton strikes him down._)
That hand shall burn in never-quenching fire
That staggers thus my person. Exton, thy fierce hand
Hath with the King’s blood stain’d the King’s own land.
Mount, mount, my soul! thy seat is up on high;
Whilst my gross flesh sinks downward, here to die.
On the west side of the castle ruins some broken walls are pointed out
as Richard’s chamber, on what evidence I do not know.
During the Pilgrimage of Grace the castle was besieged, and given up to
the rebels by Lord Darcy and the Archbishop of York. In the following
century came the three sieges of the Civil War. The first two followed
after the Battle of Marston Moor in 1644, and Fairfax joined the
Parliamentary forces on Christmas Day of that year, remaining through
most of January. On March 1 Sir Marmaduke Langdale relieved the Royalist
garrison, and Colonel Lambert fell back, fighting stubbornly and losing
some 300 men. The garrison then had an interval of just three weeks to
reprovision the castle, then the second siege began, and lasted until
July 19, when the courageous defenders surrendered, the besieging force
having lost 469 men killed to 99 of those within the castle. Of these
two sieges, often looked upon as one, there exists a unique diary kept
by Nathan Drake, a ‘gentleman volunteer’ of the garrison, and from its
wonderfully graphic details it is possible to realize the condition of
the defence, their sufferings, their hopes, and their losses, almost
more completely than of any other siege before recent times.
In the third and last investment of 1648-49 Cromwell himself summoned
the garrison, and remained a month with the Parliamentary forces,
without seeing any immediate prospect of the surrender of the castle.
When the Royalists had been reduced to a mere handful, Colonel Morris,
their commander, agreed to terms of capitulation on March 24, 1649. The
dismantling of the stately pile by order of Parliament followed as a
matter of course, and now we have practically nothing but
seventeenth-century prints to remind us of the embattled towers which
for so many months defied Cromwell and his generals.
Liquorice is still grown at Pontefract, although the industry has
languished on account of Spanish rivalry, and the town still produces
those curious little discs of soft liquorice, approximating to the size
of a shilling, known as ‘Pontefract cakes.’
To the west of Pontefract, in a comparatively small space, and connected
with a wonderful network of railways, lie Wakefield, Leeds, Bradford,
Halifax, Huddersfield, Dewsbury, and a dozen smaller centres of
manufacture, while further south are Barnsley and Sheffield. It seems
unfair that a district contributing so much to England’s wealth should
be repaid by gloomy skies and depressing landscapes.
Wakefield has a fine Perpendicular church with a tall crocketed spire,
which became a cathedral in 1888, when the new diocese was formed. The
chantry on the bridge over the Calder is entirely a modern
reconstruction. It is, however, so richly carved, and so deceptive in
its appearance of age, through the weathering of the Caen stone
employed, that even Ruskin was under some misapprehension in regard to
its age. There is nothing in the town to connect it with Goldsmith’s
‘Vicar of Wakefield,’ and it is not known if he ever visited the place.
The great black city of Leeds has a nucleus consisting of several fine
streets possessing numbers of modern buildings, making an imposing
effect worthy of the fifth English city and the commercial capital of
Yorkshire. New public buildings, banks, shops, or whatever they may be,
however white they commence their existence, in a very short time are
toned down to the uniform sable tones of the whole city. Clock-faces
stand out with painful whiteness against the sooty stonework of towers
and gables, and the only colour to be seen is restricted to the
shop-windows. Architects should remember the atmosphere of Leeds, and
use coloured glazed bricks and porcelain extensively, so that whole
buildings could every year be washed down from the roofs to the ground,
and cheer the citizens of the great town with their cleanliness and
colour. In City Square, just outside the stations of the Midland, Great
Northern, and other
[Illustration: KIRKSTALL ABBEY, LEEDS
Just outside the city, on a level stretch of grass by the River Aire,
stand the ruins of the great Cistercian abbey of Kirkstall. Some of the
conventual buildings, including the chapter-house and refectory, have
survived in a fairly complete state. Not far off on every side are
factories and tall chimney shafts.]
railways, and therefore where people get their first impression of
Leeds, stands a fine statue of the Black Prince mounted on a noble
charger. It seems curiously appropriate that the one member of the royal
line of England with such a distinction should have been chosen for a
prominent statue in the chief of the black cities of England, especially
when we know that Edward III.’s son was, according to tradition,
instrumental in introducing the weaving industry from Flanders into
Yorkshire, where it has flourished increasingly ever since. Edward III.
has been called ‘the father of English industry,’ and if this is a
justifiable distinction both he and his son are in a measure responsible
for the blackness as well as the riches their foresight has produced.
The ruins of the great Cistercian Abbey of Kirkstall, founded in the
twelfth century by Henry de Lacy, still stand in a remarkable state of
completeness, about three miles from Leeds. With the exception of
Fountains, the remains are more perfect than any in Yorkshire. Nearly
the whole of the church is Transitional Norman, and the roofless nave is
in a wonderfully fine state of preservation. The chapter-house and
refectory, as well as smaller rooms, are fairly complete, and the
situation by the Aire on a sunny day is still attractive; yet owing to
the smoke-laden atmosphere, and the inevitable indications of the
countless visitors from the city, the ruins have lost much of their
interest, unless viewed solely from a detached architectural standpoint.
We do not feel much inclination to linger in this neighbourhood, and
continue our way westwards towards the great rounded hills, where, not
far from Keighley, we come to the grey village of Haworth.
More than half a century has gone since Charlotte Brontë passed away in
that melancholy house, the ‘parsonage’ of the village. In that period
the church she knew has been rebuilt, with the exception of the tower,
her home has been enlarged, a branch line from Keighley has given
Haworth a railway-station, and factories have multiplied in the valley,
destroying its charm. These changes sound far greater than they really
are, for in many ways Haworth and its surroundings are just what they
were in the days when the members of that ill-fated household were still
united under the grey roof of the ‘parsonage,’ as it is invariably
called by Mrs. Gaskell.
We climb up the steep road from the station at the bottom of the deep
valley, and come to the foot of the village street, which, even though
it turns sharply to the north in order to make as gradual an ascent as
possible, is astonishingly steep. At the top stands an inn, the ‘Black
Bull,’ where the downward path of the unhappy Branwell Brontë began,
owing to the frequent occasions when ‘Patrick,’ as he was familiarly
called, was sent for by the landlord to talk to his more important
patrons.
A not unpicturesque passage just above this inn leads to the church, the
schools, and the ‘parsonage.’ Everything that is not a recent accretion
is built of stone, and generally roofed with stone slabs also, all,
however, of that blackish hue that needs creepers, white window-frames,
and bright-coloured shutters and doors, to relieve the gauntness. Such
cheerful touches are lacking in Haworth, and no doubt the want of colour
in their surroundings accounted for much of the morbid melancholy so
marked in the children who grew up in the sombre house.
We cannot see to-day the church the Brontës knew. With the exception of
the tower, it has been rebuilt, and even the old pulpit and
sounding-board of Mr. Brontë’s time are not to be seen. The verger
knows of their existence in a barn, and perhaps one day the Brontë
Society will contrive to have them replaced in the church. Many pilgrims
to Haworth would find more pleasure in seeing an object which must have
been so extremely familiar to Charlotte and her sisters, than in
examining the very pathetic and often painful mementoes in the society’s
museum in the village. We are not far enough removed from the times of
the Brontës to make it seemly to exhibit in glass cases garments, and
obviously inexpensive boots, worn by Charlotte.
The churchyard is, to a large extent, closely paved with tombstones
dating back to the seventeenth century, laid flat, and on to this dismal
piece of ground the chief windows of the Brontës’ house looked, as they
continue to do to-day. It is exceedingly strange that such an
unfortunate arrangement of the buildings on this breezy hill-top should
have given a gloomy outlook to the parsonage. If the house had only been
placed a little higher up the hill, and been built to face the south, it
is conceivable that the Brontës would have enjoyed better health and a
less melancholy and tragic outlook on life. An account of a visit to
Haworth Parsonage by a neighbour, when Charlotte and her father were the
only survivors of the family, gives a
[Illustration: HAWORTH CHURCH AND ‘PARSONAGE’
From this point of view the home of the Brontës is almost unaltered
since the day when Charlotte, the last of Mr. Patrick Brontë’s family,
died. The church has been rebuilt with the exception of the tower, but
this and the other changes do not make themselves apparent from this
side. Behind are the moors where Charlotte and her sisters, particularly
Emily, loved to take lonely walks.]
clear impression of how the house appeared to those who lived brighter
lives:
‘Miss Brontë put me so in mind of her own “Jane Eyre.” She looked
smaller than ever, and moved about so quietly and noiselessly, just
like a little bird, as Rochester called her, barring that all birds
are joyous, and that joy can never have entered that house since it
was first built; and yet, perhaps, when that old man married, and
took home his bride, and children’s voices and feet were heard
about the house, even that desolate crowded graveyard and biting
blast could not quench cheerfulness and hope.’
Very soon after the family came to Haworth Mrs. Brontë died, when the
eldest girl, Maria, was only six years old; and far from there having
been any childish laughter about the house, we are told that the
children were unusually solemn from their infancy. In their earliest
walks, the five little girls with their one brother--all of them under
seven years--directed their steps towards the wild moors above their
home rather than into the village. Eighty-eight years have passed, and
practically no change has come to the moorland side of the house, so
that we can imagine the precocious toddling children going hand-in-hand
over the grass-lands towards the moors beyond, as though we had
travelled back over the intervening years.
The unnatural environment of the Brontës’ childhood gave that lurid
colour to their imaginations so evident in the writings of Charlotte and
Emily, and, when at Roe Head School, one of Charlotte’s friends, after
describing in a letter her companion’s strange gift of ‘making out’
histories and inventing characters, writes: ‘I told her sometimes they
were like growing potatoes in a cellar. She said sadly, “Yes, I know we
are.”’
It is difficult to quite absolve the father of this remarkable family
for not realizing that his little girls were not living a healthy
childhood, mentally or physically, and all we read of Mr. Brontë in Mrs.
Gaskell’s book suggests a total want of appreciation of the important
elements so woefully lacking in their upbringing. In those days Haworth
was extremely isolated, and the few outside influences that reached the
neighbourhood came no nearer than the small manufacturing town of
Keighley, four miles away. The journey to London was then a vast
undertaking, whereas now we can reach the famous old ‘parsonage’ from
St. Pancras, by the Midland Railway, in less than four hours.
The purple moors so beloved by the Brontës stretch away to the Calder
Valley, and beyond that depression in great sweeping outlines to the
Peak of Derbyshire, where they exceed 2,000 feet in
[Illustration: SHEFFIELD AT NIGHT
The picture was made at Brightside, where the great foundries produce
armour-plate, cannon, and steel rails. The cherry-coloured flames that
crown the shafts are a wonderful sight.]
height. Within easy reach of this grand country is Sheffield, perhaps
the blackest and ugliest city in England. At night, however, the great
iron and steel works become wildly fantastic. The tops of many chimneys
emit crimson flames, and glowing shafts of light with a nucleus of
dazzling brilliance show between the inky forms of buildings. Ceaseless
activity reigns in these industrial infernos, with three shifts of men
working during each twenty-four hours; and from the innumerable works
come every form of manufactured steel and iron goods, from a pair of
scissors or a plated teaspoon to steel rails and armour plate.
INDEX
Acklam, 4
Aire, River, 168, 176
Albemarle, Earls of, 59, 93
Ald Ravenser, 93, 95
Alexander, Abbot of Selby, 164
Angell, Justinian, 88
Antonine Itinerary, 122
Argam Dyke, 16
Aske, Robert, 153
Atte-See, Peter, 94, 95
Atwick, 60
Auburn, 58
Augustinian Order, 56, 132
Balaclava, charge at, 133, 134, 135
Barnsley, 173
Barton-le-Street, 141
Barton-upon-Humber, 82
Beacons of East Riding, 49, 50
Belasyse. See Fauconberg
Anthony, 133
Sir William, 137
Bellini, Giovanni, 124
Bempton, 16, 17
Cliffs, 38, 39
Benedictine Order, 165
Berwick-on-Tweed, 46
Berwickshire coast, 47
Bevere, Drogo de, 59
Beverley, 28, 60, 71-83
gateways, 72, 73
Minster, 71, 72, 74-83, 109
St. John of, 76, 77, 81
St. Mary’s Church, 72, 73, 82
Black Death, 22
Blacklow Hill, 170
Blackmore, R. D., 49
Blackpool, 37
Black Prince, Edward the, 175
Blashill, Thomas, 107
Boroughbridge, Battle of, 170
Bosworth, Battle of, 131
Boynton, 18
Bradford, 173
Bridlington, 17, 50-58, 61
Priory, 56, 57
Brontë family, 179
Branwell, 177
Charlotte, 176, 178, 179, 180
Emily, 180
Society, 178
Bronze Age remains, 9, 12, 15
Brough, 28
Bulmer, Bertram de, 130
Burlington. See Bridlington
Burstwick, Prior Robert, 57
Burton, North, 20
‘Buzzers’ (sea-urchins), 37
Byland Abbey, 139, 140
Calcareous Grit, Middle, 33
Calder, River, 168, 173, 180
Cambridge, Duke of, at Newburgh Priory, 134
Canaletto, 124
Carlisle, Lord, 123
Carr Naze, 33, 35
Caracci, Annibale, 124
Carthusians at Hull, 105
Castleford, 168, 169
Castle Howard, 6, 123, 124
Cave, John, Abbot of Selby, 165
Charles I., 55, 133, 135
II., 88
Château Gaillard, 169
Cholmley, Sir Hugh, 18
Sir Roger, 46
Cistercian Order, 175
Civil War, the, 18, 53-55, 107, 110, 135, 141, 145, 150, 167, 172, 173
Clarence, George, Duke of, 130
Clifford, Francis, Earl of Cumberland, 149
Cole, the Rev. E. M., 22
Constable, Sir Marmaduke, 45, 46
Constantine, 154
Conyers, Sir John, 101
Cornwall, Earl of. See Gaveston
Cottam, 20, 21, 22, 29
Cowlam, 20, 22, 29
Coxwold, 132, 136, 137, 138, 139
Crayke, 132
Crimean War, 133-135
Cromwell, Oliver, 172, 173
bones of, 135, 136
Mary, 135
Cynesige, Archbishop, 76
Danes at Flamborough, 44, 47
Spurn Head, 92
York, 156
Danes’ Dyke, 41-44
Danthorp, Matthew, 96
Darcy, Lord, 171
De la Mare, Martin, 95
De la Pole, John, 131
Michael, 105
Sir William, 91, 105
_Derventio_, 122, 128
Derwent, River, 4, 6, 10, 26, 27, 109, 121, 122, 123, 125, 126
Devon, Earl of, at Towton, 148
Dewsbury, 173
Domenichino, 124
Drake, Nathan, 172
Driffield, Great, 9, 10, 103
Drogo de, Bevere, 59
Dryden, Sir Henry, 99
Dunwich, Suffolk, 65
Dupier, Solomon, 166
Durham Cathedral, 163
Collegiate, foundation of, 117
county of, 132
Dutch ships, 53-55
Early Man, 7-10
Easington, 66, 95
Easingwold, 130
Easter Sepulchres, 100, 104
Eburacum (Roman York), 146
Edgcote, 101
Edward I., 104
II., 60, 170
III., 91, 175
reign of, 102
IV., 46, 95, 130
Earl of Warwick, 130, 131
the Black Prince, 175
Edwin, baptized at York, 155
Egg collectors at Bempton, 39, 40
Elizabeth, Princess, eldest child of Edward IV., 130, 131
Entrenchments, prehistoric, 9, 14, 15, 16
Epsom Races, 25
Ermine Street, the, 168
Erosion of Holderness coast, 58, 60, 61, 64
Espec, Walter, Lord of Helmsley, 125, 126
Eure, Lord, his house at Malton, 121
Exton, Sir Piers of (in Shakespeare’s ‘Richard II.’), 171
Fairfax family, seat of the, 140, 141
Sir Thomas, 150, 172
Falaise, 152
Fauconberg, the Lords, 133, 135, 136, 137
Mary, Countess of, 135
Filey, 8, 16, 33-38
Brig, 33-36
Fitz-Allen, Lady Eleanor. See Percy
Fitz-Clarence, Rear-Admiral Lord Adolphus, 134
Fitz-Eustace, Richard, 169
Flamborough Head, 4, 5, 8, 16, 28, 33, 38, 40-53, 61
village, 44-47
_Flaneburg_. See Flamborough, 52
Flaxton, 128
_Fleinn-borg_. See Flamborough, 52
Flodden Field, 46
Fortibus, William de, Earl of Albemarle, 93
Furness Abbey, 139
Galtres, Forest of, 129, 130, 132, 153
Garton, pillar near, 25
Gaskell, Mrs., 176, 180
Gaveston, Piers, 60, 170
Geoffrey of Monmouth, 133
George, Duke of Clarence, 130
George IV., 134
Gerald, founder of Byland Abbey, 139
Gilbertine Order, 122
Gilling Castle, 140, 141
Glacial boulder clay, 5, 7, 35
Grasmere Sports, 23
Great Driffield, 10
Grimsby, 93, 94
Grindale, 16
Grosvenor, Sir Robert, 165
Guillemots, 39
ringed, 39
Gundreda, mother of Roger de Mowbray, 139
Gypsy Race, 17, 18
Haigh, Father, 13, 14
Halifax, 173
Hambleton Hills, the, 139, 140
Hardrada, Harold, 92, 127
Harold II., 127
Hartburn, 58
Harwich, 53
Haworth, 176-180
Hedon, 97, 101, 102, 103
Helmsley, 6, 125
Helperthorpe, 12, 13
Hemingbrough, 116, 117
Henrietta Maria, Queen, 53-55
Henry III., 59
IV., 95, 96
VI., 88
VII., 46, 82, 131
VII.’s Chapel, 135
VIII., 45, 81, 102, 105, 113, 133, 153
Heslerton, East, 13
West, 12
Hildyard, Sir Robert, 101
Hode, 139
Holderness, 7, 25, 72, 87, 91, 104
coast of, 5, 17, 52, 57, 58
Seigniory of, 59, 60
Hornsea, 58, 60, 63
Beck, 64
Burton, 64
Mere, 60, 61, 62
Hotham, Sir Charles, Bart., 73
Household Book, the, of the fifth Earl of Northumberland, 81, 112-116
Howardian Hills, 27, 123
Howden, 107, 108, 109
Hrafnseyrr. See Ravenser
Huddersfield, 173
Huggate, 8
Hull, 58, 91, 96, 102, 104-107
Humber, 6, 28, 66, 87, 88, 97, 102, 103
Hussars, 11th, 134
Hutton Cranswick, 22
Iron Age, Prehistoric, 9, 20
Jacob wrestling at Penuel, 23
James I., 81
Jerusalem, 154
Jesse Window at Selby, 164
Jews, massacre at York, 149
John, 170
Johnston, John, epitaph to, 164
Keighley, 176, 185
Kendall, Professor P. F., 7
Keyingham, 101
Kilham, 20
Kilnsea, 66
Kingston-upon-Hull. See Hull
Kirkdale, 13
Kirkham Abbey, 7, 124, 125
Kirkstall Abbey, 175
Knaresborough, 171
Kyrkebi. See Pontefract
Lacy, Alice de, 169
Henry de, 169
Ilbert de, 168, 169
Robert de, 169
Roger de, 169
Lambert, Major-General John, 111, 172
Lamplugh, Thomas, Archbishop of York, 16
Lancaster, Henry of (Henry IV.), 96
Thomas, Earl of, 169, 170
Langdale, Sir Marmaduke, 172
Leeds, 9, 161, 171, 173, 174, 175
Leith, 53
Lely, Sir Peter, 124
Lincoln, John de la Pole, Earl of, 131
Liquorice at Pontefract, 173
Lisieux, 152
London, Tower of, 131
Lutton, West, 13
Lythe, Robin, 49
Malton, 8, 9, 10, 11, 17, 28, 29, 121, 122, 123, 128, 141
Priory, 122, 123
Margate, 37
Marston Moor, Battle of, 150, 172
Marvell, Andrew, 101
Meaux Abbey, 62, 63, 64, 93, 95
Metham, tombs at Howden, 109
Middleton-in-the-Wolds, 8
Milne, customs officer at Bridlington, 51
Monolith at Rudstone, 18
Moore, Temple, 25
Morris, Colonel, 173
Mortimer, J. R., museum of, at Great Driffield, 9
Mowbray, Roger de, 139, 140
Neolithic man in the Wolds, 7, 8, 15, 20, 42, 43
Neville, Ralph, first Earl of Westmorland, 130
Robert, Bishop of Durham, 132
Newburgh, William de, 132
Priory, 6, 132-137
Newcastle, Earl of (1642), 53
New Malton. See Malton
Norman fonts, 21, 22, 23, 29
tympana, 16
North Cave, 107
Grimston, 28, 29
Landing, Flamborough, 40, 41, 47, 48
Northumberland, fourth Earl of, 81
fifth Earl of, 81, 112-115
Earl of (1648), 110
House, London, 111
Norton, 11
Norwegians at Battle of Stamford Bridge, 127
Old Byland, 139
Old Malton. See Malton
Oscetul (or Oskytel), Archbishop of York, 14
Ottringham, 101
Ouse, River, 6, 117, 149, 160, 162
Owthorne, 64, 65, 66
Patrington, 97-102, 104
Pembroke, Earl of, 101
Percy, Bishop, 112
Lady Eleanor, 79, 80
Percy, first Lord, 79
fifth Lord, 81
Peter, Atte-See, 94, 95
Philip Augustus, 170
Pickering, 8, 10, 122, 171
Vale of, 6
‘Pilgrimage of Grace,’ 107, 153, 171
Pitt Rivers, General, 42, 43
Pocklington, 101
Pole, Sir William de la, 91
Pontefract, 110, 165, 166-173
Potter, Hugh, 111
Prehistoric Iron Age, 9
Preston, Yorkshire, 104
Prince Consort, the, 154
Puffins, 39
Pugin, Welby, 82, 164
Pygot, William, Abbot of Selby, 165
Raglan, Lord, in Crimea, 133
Ravenser, 91, 92, 93
Ravenserodd, 90-97, 103, 105
Ravenser Spurn, 95
Ravensersporne. See Spurn Head
Raw Frank, epitaph to, 163
Razor-bills, 39
‘Redesdale, Robin of,’ 101
Reedbarowe, Richard, the hermit, 88
Regnald II. of Northumbria, 14
Reynolds, Sir Joshua, 124
Richard, Duke of York, 148
II., 170, 171
III., 130
Rievaulx, 140
Rillington, 11
Ripon Cathedral, 79
Rivers, General Pitt, 42, 43
Riviera, the, 4
Robin Lythe, 49
Robinson, Sir Thomas, 124
Roe Head School, 180
Roman coins, 28
remains at York, 154, 155
roads and camps, 28, 122
Rowcliffe, John de, 150
Rubens, 124
Rudstone, 18, 19, 20, 50
Ruskin, John, 174
St. Andrew, 22
St. Catherine of Alexandria, 99
St. Gilbert of Sempringham, 122
St. John the Baptist, 99
St. John of Beverley, 76, 77, 81
St. Lawrence, 21
St. Margaret, 21
St. Mary’s Abbey, York, 62, 63, 150, 153
St. Nicholas, 29
St. Quentin, Anthony, 63
St. Stephen’s Hall, Westminster, 135
Saltmarshe, effigy at Selby, 165
tombs at Howden, 109
Sand Hutton, 128
Saxon inscription at Weaverthorpe, 13
Scarborough, 6, 8, 9, 18
Scots, invasions of, 60, 170
Scrope, Archbishop Richard, 171
Lord, of Bolton Castle, 165
Sea-urchins, 37
Selby, 160
Abbey, 160-165
Sempringham, Lincolnshire, 122
Sheffield, 173, 181
Sherburn Wold, 12
Sheriff Hutton Castle, 129, 130
Shireburn, John de, Abbot of Selby, 164, 165
Skipsea, 58, 59, 60
Brough, 59
Sledmere, 13, 24, 25, 26
Slingsby, 141
Smeaton, John (the engineer), 88
Snorro, Saga of, 127
South Landing, Flamborough, 48
Spanish Armada, warning beacons at time of, 49
Speeton, 38
Spret, John, 82
Spurn Head, 58, 64, 67, 87-96, 103
Stamford Bridge, 28, 92, 122, 126, 127
Sterne, Laurence, 137-139
Lydia, 138
Stocking, 140
Stonegrave, 3
Church, 141
Strafford, Lord, 124
Strickland, Lady, 18
Sir William, Bart., 18
ir William, Bart. (1769), 19
Suffolk, Earl of (De la Pole), 91
Sunthorp, 95
Superstitions at Flamborough, 47
Sussex Downs, 3
Sutton-in-Holderness, 107
Sykes, Sir Christopher, 24
the late Sir Tatton, 24, 25
Sir Tatton, 13, 24, 25, 26
Talbot, Lord George, 167
Teal duck, 51
Thirsk, 139
Thorpe-le-Street, 28
Thorpe Hall, Rudstone, 18, 19
Thurstan, Archbishop of York, 139
Thwing, 16
Tintoretto, 124
Tostig, 127, 128
Towton, Battle of, 149
Trinity Brethren, 51
Tumuli, 7, 9, 10, 14, 15
Tyburn gallows, 135, 136
Tynemouth Bar, 53
Vale of Pickering, 6, 11
York, 6, 7, 122, 132
Vanburgh, Sir John, 123, 124
Vandyck, 124
Vikings, age of, 14
Villages of the Wolds, characteristics of, 15
Wakefield, 173
Battle of, 148
Walpole, Horace, 124
Wallingford, Baron. See Gaveston
Wansford, 13
Warton, Sir Michael, 73
Warwick, the King-Maker, 130
Weaverthorpe, 13
Weaving in Yorkshire, 175
Welton, John, 82
Westminster Abbey, 135
Westmorland, Ralph Neville, first Earl of, 130
wrestlers, 23
Wetwang, 22
Wharram-le-Street, 4, 26, 27, 28
Wharram, Percy, 10
Wilberforce, William, 105
Willan, Mr., 19
William the Conqueror, 59, 165, 169
William, Abbot of Meaux, 62
Willoughby, Sir Robert, 131
Wilton Beacon, 6
Winestead, 101
Wintringham, 11
Withernsea, 64, 65
Wold Newton, 16
Wolds, the, 3-29, 72, 107, 123
Wombwell, Sir George, Bart., 133
Wressle Castle, 81, 109-116
Wulstan, Archbishop of, York, 14
York, 28, 62, 83, 125, 128, 139, 145-156, 161, 169
Bootham Bar, 152, 153
Clifford’s Tower, 149
Guildhall, the, 154
Marygate Tower, 150
Micklegate Bar, 148, 149
Minster, 6, 147, 155, 156
Museum, 9, 23, 153
St. Mary’s Abbey, 150, 153
See of, 77
Skeldergate Bridge, 148
Vale of, 6, 7, 122, 132
Walmgate Bar, 146, 149
BILLING AND SONS, LTD., PRINTERS, GUILDFORD
FOOTNOTES:
[A] Mr. J. R. Mortimer’s museum at Great Driffield is still in his own
hands.
[B] ‘Flamborough Village and Headland,’ Colonel A. H. Armytage.
[C] A worked flint was found in the moat not long ago by Dr. J. L.
Kirk, of Pickering.
[D] ‘Multum delectabatur in equis velocibus equitare.’
End of Project Gutenberg's Yorkshire Vales and Wolds, by Gordon Home