The Baldwin Library
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DEAR OLD ENGLAND:
A DESCRIPTION OF OUR FATHERLAND.
t'itl ito all 6-1lislj Qhilbmu.
JANE ANNE WINSCOM,
AUTHOR OF VINEYARD LABOURERS," "ONWARD," "I BELIEVE ; OR, THE APOSTLES' CREED
EXPLAINED TO CHILDREN," &C., &C.
JAMES NISBET AND CO., 21 BERNERS STREET.
PRINTED BY BALLANTYNE AND COMPANY
EDINBURGH AND LONDON
PREFACE TO THE SECOND EDITION.
THIS new edition of "Dear Old England" has been care-
fully revised, and many alterations made.
A Map, for the convenience of those who are studying
the book, has been prepared, and many foot references,
calculated to exercise the reflective faculties of children,
have been given. From them they may form comparisons
and contrasts, or trace historically what they have learnt
It is particularly desired that children may know intel-
ligently the geography of their native land-may learn
not by memory only, but with heart and understanding.
Many tales are mingled-for tales are amongst the joys of
childhood, and an anecdote will often impress on the mind
a locality or character that with mere names and statistics
would pass away.
March 25, 1867.
"DEAR OLD ENGLAND" is intended either for school or for
play-hours. Its object is to interest English children in
everything that concerns their dear native land.
Geography should convey ideas, rather than hard names;
it should exercise comprehension as well as memory; it
should associate places with history, scenery, climate, pro-
duce, and inhabitants.
The information in the following pages is intended to
stimulate rather than to satisfy inquiry. The volume will
be but a stepping-stone to books of far more intrinsic
worth and far deeper thought. Ideas are only in embryo
here. Future education and after-life must see their de-
velopment. Something is, however, gained when learning
has been made pleasant, when facts have led to thoughts,
when the connexion between cause and effect has been
observed, and the young mind has endeavoured to solve
the riddles that may be extracted from the information
each lesson contains.
Amongst the books consulted have been Lewis's To-
pographical Dictionary," Knight's The Land We Live In,"
" Old England," and especially Murray's excellent Hand-
books of the Southern Counties." As accuracy of infor-
mation is earnestly aimed at, should mistakes be dis-
covered, the writer would feel deeply indebted for any
communications regarding them, addressed to the care of
May England's God bless this volume, and permit it to
bear its humble share in gladdening children's hearts, in
informing their minds, and in increasing their thankful-
ness to Him who has cast their lot in a land so pleasant,
and has given them a heritage so fair as Britain's isle!
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.
WARKWORTH CASTLE. FRONTISPIECE.
BAMBOROUGH CASTLE, 11
FOUNTAIN'S ABBEY, 43
SCALE FORCE, 73
WINDERMERE LAKE, 81
THE ROWS IN CHESTER, 107
SCENE IN THE POTTEBIES.-POTTER'S WHEEL, Ill
QUEEN ELIZABETH AT KENILWORTH CASTLE, 123
PEAK CAVERN, 127
STOCKINGER AT WORK, 138
LUTTERWORTH CHURCH, 144
THE FENS, 151
KIMBOLTON CASTLE, 166
TRINITY COLLEGE, 170
DR TAYLOR'S MARTYRDOM, 191
AUGUSTINE AND THE BRITISH BISHOPS UNDER THE TREE, 200
THE VALLEY OF STROUD, 214
HOP PICKING, 217
CHEPSTOW CASTLE, 225
CLIFTON HOT-WELLS, 234
HIGH STREET, OXFORD, 242
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.
WINDSOR CASTLE, .
HOUSES OF PARLIAMENT,
BANK AND ROYAL EXCHANGE, LONDON,
THE THAMES FROM RICHMOND HILL, .
DOVER CASTLE, .
STONEY CROSS AND THE NEW FOREST,
QUARRIES IN PORTLAND, *
OLD HOUSES AT DARTMOUTH,
TIN MINE, *
LAND'S END, .
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DEAR OLD ENGLAND.
Now I hope the map of England is either hung up on the
wall, or laid on the table; for I want your young eyes to
be continually looking at it.
Is England an island ? No: for the sea does not quite
surround it. Here is Scotland, that joins it on the north;
and here is Wales, a dear sister country, on the west.
England, Scotland, and Wales, form altogether the island
of Great Britain. Dear old Britain Don't we love it ?
It is sometimes called our "sea-girt home," because the
sea surrounds it like a girdle or belt, and helps to keep Qs
safe from enemies. Yet I think something better than the
sea keeps Britain safe, even God's care for our island and
our island's queen; and as long as we please Him and ask
Him to protect us, our dear country shall be preserved
from all dangers.
Why do we love England ? Will you try to answer ?
I will give you four reasons, but, probably, you will think
First, we love it because it is a Bible-land. There are
few families in which there is not a Bible. Good King
George III., Queen Victoria's grandfather, used to wish
DEAR OLD ENGLAND.
that every child in England had this precious book. Any
little child may now buy a Bible for sixpence, and the
poorest children can go to ragged schools, where they may
learn to read it. Being a Bible-land, all who wish may
know from God's own book what He desires them to do;
and may learn the blessed story about Jesus Christ coming
into the world to save sinners.
Secondly, we love England because it is a free land.
Everybody may do and speak as he likes, and, unless he
injures others, no policeman can put him into prison.
The Englishman feels his home is his castle; and the
rights of the cottager are as sacred as those of the prince.
Neither are there any slaves in England no men, women,
boys, or girls, who can be bought or sold.
Thirdly, we love England because it is a beautiful land.
There are not such grand mountains, and large lakes,
and sunny flowers as in some countries; but the fields
are very green, and the scenery is sweetly varied; and
the cottages, as well as larger houses, are comfortable, and,
what is peculiarly an English word, they are cosy."
Fourthly, we love England because it is our dear home
"Home, sweet home, there is no place like home."
There are many pleasant countries over the sea ; and we
hope the little French, and Swiss, and German children,
love their own fatherlands very much, but we know best
about dear old England; and don't you like the pretty
verse which says,
I thank the goodness and the grace
Which on my birth have smiled,
And made me in these blessed days
A happy English child ?
Now, look again at the map, and let us find out what it
will tell us about England.
Though the sea goes all round Britain, it is not very far
from France in this southern part, and from Ireland here.
Ireland is a sister island, and belongs to the same queen
From this coast of France, (look for Calais,) the white
cliffs on the shore of England (look for Dover) can be seen;
and so when the Romans first saw England they called it
Albion or the White Land. The tribes in Britain were
very savage before the arrival of the Romans, I suppose
something like the New Zealanders before the English dis-
covered them, only the ancient Britons never ate each
other's flesh. Julius Caesar, the Roman general, and his
soldiers crossed over these straits, (the Straits of Dover.)
The brave Britons fought with them, but at last were
driven back; and the Romans took possession of Britain,
and built large towns and taught the people many useful
England is neither very near the equator, nor very near
the pole. It is neither burning hot, nor freezing cold.
The weather is temperate. There are cold east winds in
spring, and often thick fogs in November, but still most
of the days are very fine. Being an island, and warmed
by a current of water that reaches its western shore, from
the Gulf of Mexico, the average warmth is much greater
than in other places of the same latitude. More rain falls
here than on the Continent, and foreigners are struck with
the greenness of England's fields, and the luxuriance of her
Now observe which coast of England seems the smooth-
est; with the fewest bays and headlands. -The shape of
England is something like a triangle, the most irregular
side being on the left hand or west, which is as irregular
in its surface as in its shape, almost all the mountains and
rough parts being to the west. We will mark a line from
DEAR OLD ENGLAND.
this river, the Tees, in Durham, to this one, the Exe, in
Devonshire; and on its eastern side, you will find the
country generally covered with plains, or gently-sloping
fields, and rivers quietly wandering along; whilst on
the west side there are mountains and moorlands, deep
valleys, clear lakes, and rivers rushing through dells
with steep banks on either side. These divisions of the
island are also very different in their riches. The beauti-
ful green fields with fine fat cattle, and richly-cultivated
land with waving corn, are the riches of the eastern side,
whilst minerals of all sorts, lead, iron, tin, coal, or copper,
are found in the country to the west of the line.
The greatest length of England, from Berwick-upon-
Tweed to the south of Dorset, is 380 miles; and the great-
est breadth, from Land's End to Winterton Ness in Nor-
folk, is 367 miles. Now, it is reckoned that policemen or
postmen, whose business it is to walk about, can walk
fifteen miles a day. How many weeks of six days each
would a man, walking at this rate, be in passing from north
to south ? How many weeks in going from east to west ?
Now, think again: how many miles in one day have
you ever walked ? Then how many days would you take
to walk across England. The narrowest part of England
is between the coast of Northumberland and the Solway
Frith, there it is only sixty-two miles broad. How long
would you take to walk across it ?
Now, try and remember all I have told you to-day, for
before you hear or read another chapter, I expect you to
give me an account of this one.
Now for another geography lesson from me, and eyes and
ears from you.
Do you see that dear old England, our sea-girt island,
is divided on the map into a number of parts, of all sorts
of colours, red, blue, yellow, green, and of all sorts of
shapes-this one, Northumberland, like a little England;
Buckinghamshire rather like an old woman with a pack
on her back: you guess Nottinghamshire, an egg; West-
moreland, an ivy leaf; Somersetshire, a baby's sock; whilst
Cornwall always reminds me of a Wellington boot, with a
very small toe.
Yorkshire is the largest, and Rutland the smallest
Now I must tell you what counties are. They are the
forty parts into which England was divided a very long
time ago, by the wise king, Alfred the Great. They are
not surrounded either by walls or ditches, rivers or hedges.
I know a house with one bed-room in Hertfordshire and
another in Middlesex; and a garden, with one tree in
Gloucestershire and another in Worcestershire. Each
county has, however, different officers, appointed by the
Queen to keep order; and different members, gentlemen
chosen by the people to go up to London to the parliament
and consult on the laws by which the English are to be
governed. I suppose, in Alfred's time, there were reasons
for the different shapes of the counties. Rivers and hills
very often partly separate them; and, probably, where
there is now nothing at all, there used to be the edge of a
forest, or the beginning of a moor.
The division into counties helps us very much to under-
stand the map, and to find out places. Suppose your
garden to be divided into flower plots, and each plot to have
a name which you know. Charles 'wants to know where
the pretty dark rose has been plucked; the gardener says,
,' In Flora plot." Mary asks where the geranium is
planted; she hears "In Magnificent plot." They then
DEAR OLD ENGLAND.
soon discover their favourite flowers. So, if you remember
that this great county is Yorkshire, and you hear that
Sheffield, Leeds, and Hull are in Yorkshire, you will not
think of looking for those large towns in Cornwall.
Now I wish to tell you about the people who live, the
things that are made, the towns that are built in, and the
rivers which flow through, each county; and will you
listen and try to remember it all?
We will begin with Northumberland, the highest-up
county on the map, therefore the most northern, or the
furthest away from the part of the heaven where the sun
shines. It is not so warm in Northumberland as in these
southern counties; but there are many bright fine days,
which in summer are longer, and in winter are shorter than
they are on the English Channel.
The German Ocean washes the coast of Northumberland.
Generally, the waves beat against soft, bright sands,
covered with pretty shells, but in some places high rocks
jut out, with perhaps a castle built upon their summit.
Sometimes there are deep creeks, or fissures, in these
rocks, up which the large waves rush with a great noise;
and reaching the end, they throw the spray into the air
like a fountain. It is beautiful to watch it, with the
bright sun shining. It falls down glittering like a shower
of pearls and precious stones.
Often there are sad shipwrecks on this coast; but
a good Duke of Northumberland provided at several
stations between the Tyne and the Tweed life-boats.
These are boats made of timber, with a cornice of cork,
fitted with air-chambers, and having two bows, so that
even if the waves dash over or upset them, they rise to
the top of the billows, and right themselves. If a ship
is driven on the rocks, some brave men get into one of
these boats, and save, if possible, the shipwrecked sailors.
What can you do to help the sailors when the wind blows
hard ? Can't you pray for them ?
Further inland, there are a good many corn-fields, but
not nearly so much hay as in the south of England. The
grass does not grow quickly in Northumberland, and the
farmers take a long time to make it into hay. There are
few trees, excepting near the rivers, whose steep banks
are often beautifully wooded, the branches of the lowest
trees dipping into the clear-running water. In the west
of the county there is a great deal of hilly moorland. You
may travel for many miles and see hardly any fields or
trees; but the moors are covered with the golden flowers
of the furze, or the heather's purple blossom; and even on
the soft, .... bogs are found bright green moss, and
rare and beautiful flowers, as pretty as many that grow in
the garden. You can see sheep and goats feeding on the
hill-sides, and shepherds clothed in plaids, long-checked
woollen shawls, taking care of them. Amongst these
hills, quite sheltered from the cold east winds, are valleys,
where invalids often go for warmer air. The poor people
in Northumberland are generally agriculturists; that is,
they work in the fields, sowing, reaping, hoeing. Some
are miners, working below the ground in coal-pits or lead
mines; and on the coast there are many fishermen.
They are kind to each other, honest and independent.
They seldom beg for money, and have a great deal of
common sense. You seldom meet a Northumbrian person
who cannot read. They do not like to give up their old
customs, whether good or bad. One bad custom is, having
only one room for eating, drinking, and sleeping. This is,
I hope, giving way a little. Their box beds fastened against
the walls with wooden shutters are very unwholesome.
The air, however, is fresh and bracing; and as the
people have good wages, they are able to live on good food,
DEAR OLD ENCLAND.
and are generally tall and stout, with broad shoulders.
They eat brown bread, which is very wise. They often
bake cakes on the girdle, a round, flat, iron plate, hung
over the fire. These are sometimes made of barley, and
pease meal. This is dry food, but quite wholesome, and
soon satisfies hungry children. A better kind is made of
flour, and cream or butter, and currants, and is eaten
quite hot. The pitmen call them "Singing hinnies wi'
sma' co' fizzers." Hinny means a good thing, probably
from "honey," and they call the currants small coals,
which sing or fiz with the butter in them.
The Northumbrians have a strange way of speaking,
and use words you would not understand. Perhaps a
mother would tell you her child was a canny wee bairn,
but somewhat hempy;" which means, a nice little child,
but rather mischievous. Their Ps seem to stick in their
throats. It is very difficult for Northumbrian people to
say, Around the rugged rocks the ragged rascals ran."
Now what do we get from Northumberland ? Some
things so precious that they are called black diamonds.
We neither cat them nor wear them, but only throw them
on the fire. Ah coals. The best coals in England used
to come from Northumberland, from a place called Wall's
End. The best fish we eat comes also from Northumber-
land. The Tweed salmon, a red kind of fish, is famous all
over England. Cod, haddocks, oysters, and herrings, are
also plentiful on its coast; but soles and mackerel are
rare; and sprats do not go north of the Tyne.
Very large cattle are fattened in this county.
On the long dreary moorlands many birds are shot, such
as grouse, black-cocks, etc., called moor-game. No one
can shoot them without the Queen's leave, nor before the
12th of August.
Several famous people have been born in Northumber-
land :-Good old Bishop Ridley, who, in the reign of Queen
Mary, was burnt because of his love for the Bible; Lord
Collingwood, who gained a famous victory by sea over the
French; Lord Eldon, a great lawyer; George and Robert
Stephenson, the famous engineers. George Stephenson,
when a little boy, hoed turnips for twopence a day ; but he
was a great thinker; and his thoughts led to the discovery
of the way by which steam-engines could draw railway
carriages. Do you like to go on the railway ? Then think
of what you owe to the great George Stephenson. Another
famous man was once a poor boy in Northumberland-
Robert Morrison, who was a shoemaker's apprentice, and
afterwards went out as a missionary to China, and trans-
lated God's blessed Bible into the difficult Chinese lan-
guage. Bewick, the inventor of wood-engraving, worked,
when a child, in a coal-pit on the Tyne. Now try and
think of the country, the people, the produce, and the
great men of Northumberland, and to-morrow I will tell
you something about the towns and rivers.
Now, look at the map. The Tweed runs between
Northumberland and Scotland. It is a pretty, clear river,
with beautiful banks, on which are several ruined castles.
Long ago the Scotch and English were not good friends,
and often fought battles. Then the lords used to have
castles, instead of houses, with thick walls and wide
ditches or moats all around. Over these ditches were
drawbridges-bridges that can be drawn up at pleasure,
preventing all passage. Inside the walls were enclosures
for the cattle; because if the cows were left in the fields
the enemy's soldiers would soon steal them. One of these
old castles on the banks of the Tweed, is Norham. It is
DEAR OLD ENGLAND.
a ruin now, the walls broken and stones crumbling, but
once it was full of armed men, feasting inside and fighting
outside. Good Dr Gilly, who wrote about Felix Neff, and
cared much for the Protestants among the Alps, lived and
died at Norham.
Where the Tweed falls into the sea is Berwick. Ber-
wick is a county of itself, belonging neither to England
nor Scotland. It has broad walls all round it; several
people could walk abreast along them. The railway
station is where the castle once stood. We do not need
a castle there now, since there is no fighting between the
Scotch and English. Berwick is a famous place for catching
salmon. To do so, the fishermen sometimes lay their nets
in a half-moon shape from the shore ; they then jump into
boats and row round and round between the nets and shore,
frightening the salmon, which try to swim away. They,
poor things, rush into the nets and are caught. The
fishermen then undo the stakes, and draw the nets to land,
and take out all the fish they find. Sometimes there are
none. Then they have to try again and again. You
know there are no gains without pains.
Not very far from Berwick is Holy Island, so called
because it was the place where the holy and humble
missionary Aidan lived, and also the pastors that, with
him, came from lona in Scotland to preach about
Jesus to the heathen Northumbrians. Aidan won them
by great meekness and humility. He was much as-
sisted by the good King Oswald, who used to stand
by the missionary, translating his words into the people's
language. At Holy Island can be seen the ruins of
the old monastery. The first church was built of wood
and thatched with reeds. Opposite Holy Island is
Bamborough. Sometimes you can cross in a carriage
from one to the other, because when the tide is low the
sand is left dry. At Bamborough is a fine castle, built on
a high rock. We read of it 1300 years ago, in the time
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of the Danes and Saxons. It is now appropriated for the
good of the poor, and especially for efforts to help the ship-
wrecked. In the churchyard is the tomb of Mr Mackenzie,
a passenger in the steamer Pegasus, which struck on
some rocks near, and foundered. As they were sinking,
he gathered the passengers round him, and prayed calmly
to his God. Here, too, is the tomb of Grace Darling, who
lived on one of the Ferne Islands, a group of rocky islets off
this coast. They are twenty-five in number when the tide
is out, and fifteen when it is in. Hers is a deeply interest-
ing story, and I am sure you will love to hear it.
DEAR OLD ENGLAND.
THE STORY OF GRACE DARLING AND THE SHIPWRECK.
More than thirty years since, on the 5th of September,
a steamboat left Hull in Yorkshire (which town we will
find on the map) for Dundee, in Scotland. Its name was
the Forfarshire. It had sixty-three people on board-
sailors and passengers-men, women, and some little chil-
dren. The boilers soon began to leak, but the sailors
pumped the water out and the vessel went northwards,
passed the shores of Yorkshire, Durham, and Northumber-
land, till it reached St Abb's Head, a rocky cape on the
coast of Scotland. Here the engineer said he could not
make the engines work any longer, and the captain was
obliged to let the vessel drive before the wind. The
storm was very high-the waves were lashing, and the
white sea foaming. The north wind drove them south-
ward all night, and very early in the morning, when it was
quite dark, they found that the foam before them was
breaking on a fearful rock, one of these Ferne Islands.
They could not manage the helm; so on the ship went,
and struck this sharp, high ridge. Loud cries arose-loud
cries for God to have mercy. Another tremendous wave
struck the ship; it lifted it high above the rock. The
wave passed-the ship fell upon the rock's sharp edge, and
broke in two. One end was swept into the deep sea, and
all the passengers there were buried in a terrible grave of
water. Some of the crew now rushed into a little boat
that belonged to the ship, and just as it was being pushed
off, a farmer took a long leap, jumped in, and was saved;
for the men in this boat were afterwards picked up by a
ship that met them. Nine others clung to the fore part of
the ship, and there they hung, with the waves dashing
over them. Amongst them was a poor woman, who had
with her two little children. How the waves bruised, and
drenched, and chilled, and hurt them! But,-ere long, the
crying of the poor little ones ceased, for Jesus sent His
angel to take their souls to His bright home, where storms
and tempests never come. At last morning dawned.
Nearly a mile distant was the Longstone lighthouse, built
on one of these rocky islets. On this island lived an old
man, his wife, and daughter. There was usually a son,
too, but he was at the herring fishery. Through the mist
of the morning, by the help of a glass, old Darling saw the
wreck; he saw the sufferers clinging. Shall we go ?
thought he. It seemed impossible. The sea was raging
fearfully-the current was very strong, and who was there
to help to pull the oar? At his side stood his brave
daughter, not very tall, not very strong, but with a heart
that could trust her God, and that longed to save the
perishing creatures. "Father, let us go," she cries, and
so the boat is launched, and the mother helps to set
them off; and her anxious eye follows those she loved
best, and her earnest heart prays God to speed her hus-
band and her child. Grace had not been accustomed to
the boat; her father or her brother had always managed
it. But God watches from heaven, and He gives her
strength and skill. They pull hard, they pull with all
their might; the boat reaches the wreck, but a greater
danger now awaits it. The billows heave-the boat
grazes the rocks, once and again. How easily might it be
overturned, or broken in pieces! Still, God protects. The
poor mother of the two little children, though herself nearly
dead, is removed into it. Then the passengers-one by one-
all the nine are saved. The tide is now advancing, the waves
becoming each minute stronger. Grace and her father
could not, by themselves, have rowed back, but among the
sufferers are men that help. God speeds the little boat. It
is borne safely across the foaming billows; it has reached
DEAR OLD ENGLAND.
the lighthouse island. Is there not heard the voice of
thanksgiving to Him who has protected them ? For two
days the shipwrecked passengers remained on the little
island, and Grace gave up her bed to the suffering woman,
and nursed her with the kindest care. When the tale of
the shipwreck was known, Grace Darling received many
praises, many presents. High and low, all honoured her,
but she never seemed to think anything of herself, and
only wondered that people were so kind.
For about ten years she continued to live with her
father and mother, at the Longstone Lighthouse. Then
she became ill of consumption. She knew that she was
dying, but was quite willing to depart, and to be with
Jesus. She divided amongst her dear friends the presents
that had been given her: and, as she grew weaker and
weaker, her faith became stronger and stronger, until she
was called from all the storms of life, to be safe in heaven's
haven. Dear boys and girls, Grace Darling was neither
strong, nor rich, nor learned, and yet you see how she
served her fellow-creatures. Can you do nothing to assist
poor people round you, and to help to bring dying souls
to know that Jesus is the Rock of Ages, where only they
can find salvation ?
Farther south are the ruins* of a large castle, called
Dunstanburgh. No one lives there now, excepting during
the time when the little lambs are born. Then a shepherd
and his dog live inside one of the thick walls. Is not a
room in a wall a strange home ? To-morrow we must
follow to its source the little river Alne.
You shall hear to-day more tales of the "borders," the
name given to those parts of England and Scotland which
border on one another. The Alne rises amongst the Che-
viots, a range of hills separating the north-west of North-
umberland from Scotland and Cumberland. They are
famous for the sheep that feed amongst them, which in
winter are often buried in the snow. I once saw one
which was taken out alive, after being thirty days under
the snow: it had eaten all the grass around it, and the
wool off its back. The chief town in this wild district
is Wooler. Near it is Flodden Field, where, in the reign
of Henry VIII., a great battle was fought between the
English and Scotch. James IV., the Scotch king, and a
great number of his bravest nobility were killed. Not far
distant is Chillingham Castle, a fine old place. Here you
may see a stone, in the middle of which was found a live
toad. In the park are wild cattle which have never been
tamed. They are quite white, excepting the ears and tips
of the horns, and are handsomely formed.
On this little river, the Alne, there stands an old town,
Alnwick. Here the Duke of Northumberland lives in
a grand old castle, with thick doorways and spacious
courts. The old gates were called portcullises. Instead
of shutting from the sides, they fell down from the top of
the arches. On the top of the castle walls are strange
stone figures; some seem ready to throw a lance; some
have axes; others are lifting stones. In this and other
castles are deep, dark dungeons, where the unfortunate
Scotch prisoners were sometimes thrown. Near Alnwick,
one Scotch king, William, called the Lion because he
was very brave, was taken prisoner, and another, called
Malcolm, was killed. In the Duke's park there are the
ruins of a curious old abbey, Hulne. The monks who
built it, chose this situation because they thought the
slope of the opposite hill, Brizlee, was like Mount Carmel,
where they had lived in the Holy Land. At the top of
DEAR OLD ENGLAND.
Brizlee is a high stone tower. Brizlee was one of the
hills where, in former days, people used to light beacon-
fires, when an enemy approached.* There were then no
electric telegraphs, but there were watchers stationed on
different heights, who each lighted his fire when he saw
one blazing in the distance; and so the presence of an
enemy was known for many miles. In the centre of
Alnwick, is a curious old archway, which goes by the
name of Harry Hotspur's Tower. Hotspur, a son of Lord
Percy, was very brave, but very passionate. He fought a
battle with King Henry IV. at Battle Field, near I,...--
bury, in Shropshire. The king dressed like a common
soldier, and made several of his brave friends dress like
the king. Can you tell me of any king of Israel who did
the same thing ?
Hotspur and other chieftains tried to fight with these
mock-kings, and killed several of them. Thousands of
Englishmen were slain. At last an arrow went through
the brain of Hotspur; and when his friends saw that he
was dead, they gave up fighting, and were conquered.
This was called a civil war, because all the people who
fought on either side belonged to one nation. Are you not
glad that there is no civil war now ? And won't you pray to
God to help all the people in dear old England to keep good
friends, and only to fight against what is evil and wicked ?
I will tell you another curious story about Alnwick.
West of this town is a great moor, in which there are
many bogs and morasses.tf Once, when King John was
travelling across Northumberland, he got into a bog near
Alnwick, where he stuck fast. He was very angry, not
at his own stupidity, but with the townspeople, and said
that no one should ever after have the advantages of free-
men of Alnwick, unless they first went through this pond.
Page 9. t Page 7.
For hundreds of years this absurd law continued. On
the 25th of April those, who wished to become freemen,
were obliged to plunge through what was called the Free-
man's Well." Mischievous boys, of course, placed ropes
under the water to trip them. But on they must go,
head over heels, till, covered with mud, they reached the
other side. Afterwards they had feasting: and a green
tree was, for the day, placed in front of the doors of the
new freemen. Only a very few years since, the people of
Alnwick agreed the custom was a very foolish one, and
that they would give it up.
The next river south of the Alne is the Coquet, which
receives its name because its course is continually wind-
ing. It also rises amongst the wild moorlands of the
Cheviots. The first small town on its banks is Rothbury
-noted for its mild and fresh breezes.* Invalids often
go there to breathe the air, and to drink goat's milk, the
wild hills around forming pasture for these pretty animals.
The waters of the Coquet are very clear, and there the
trout jump all day long. You might fancy this is where-
"Dear mother," said a little fish,
"Pray is not that a fly ?
I'm very hungry, and I wish
You'd let me go and try."
On its banks not far from the sea stands a pretty)
village, called Warkworth, crowned with a beautiful castle.
The frontispiece shows you its picture. It is a ruin now.
standing on a hill, round which the clear Coquet winds.
Further up the river is Warkworth Hermitage, where
there are three little rooms, cut out of the solid rock.
The story is that a warrior made this his home. He had
passionately killed by mistake a lady whom he loved very
much; and to make amends for his sin, he determined to
DEAR OLD ENGLAND.
live quite alone in this rock. In one of the windows is
roughly carved a lady, with an angel watching her. The
hermit had a kitchen, with a wide chimney, so I suppose
he kept himself warm, and had good fare. Warkworth,
with its ruined castle, and high-spired church, and clear
winding river, and curious hermitage, is, I think one of the
prettiest places in England.
Opposite the mouth of the river is Coquet Island, where
there is a lighthouse. This island used to be full of long-
haired white rabbits, with red eyes. On the Ferne and
Coquet islands, a number of sea-fowl lay their eggs,-such
birds as gulls, and geese, and eider-ducks. The last are
noted for the extreme softness of their feathers. Sea-fowls
do not make their nests of wool, and hay, and moss, but
of stones and sea-weed; and very often they make no
nests at all. The eggs are not rounded like those of land
birds, but pointed at one end to prevent them rolling.
The country between the Coquet and the Tyne is gene-
rally bare and bleak. On a little river, the banks of which
can boast of more than one old castle, are Morpeth, the
birthplace of Morrison, the Bible translator, and Blythe, a
small port for shipping coal. To-morrow we will trace the
Tyne, which partly separates Northumberland from Durham.
THE largest river in Northumberland is the Tyne. It has
two principal branches, called the North and South Tyne,
which rise in the wild hilly moorlands of South-west Nor-
thumberland and East Cumberland, and unite above Hex-
A railway passes along its banks, between the two
large towns of Newcastle and Carlisle. Travelling along
this railroad is very pleasant. You continually cross or
follow the banks of the river; and you pass through woods,
and see pretty castles. One ot the peculiar beauties of
Northumberland is its many old border castles.* Standing
on some hills, you may count from seven to twelve with-
in sight. Nearly on a line with this railway, are the
remains of a very old and broad wall. It is called the
Picts' Wall, because it was built by the Romans to protect
them from the Picts and Scots, rude and savage tribes
that lived in the North of Britain. The wall stretched
from the Solway Frith to the Tyne. The place where it
stopped is still called Wall's End, and is now chiefly famed
for its colliery.
Amongst the wild and desolate hills, where the North
Tyne and other rivers rise, is Chevy Chase, where very
long ago was fought a bloody battle between the English
and Scotch. It was not play-work then, as Chevy
Chase is with boys now; nor was it song-work as the
ballad is with Northumbrians at the present day. This is
a verse of it-
To drive the deer, with hound and horn,
Earl Percy took his way ;
The child may rue, who is unborn,
The slaughter of that day."
In the south-west of Northumberland are many lead
mines, very valuable, especially now that a way of extract-
ing silver from lead is discovered.
The first town to note on the Tyne is Hexham, where
there is a beautiful church almost like a cathedral. In its
windows was fixed the first glass used in England, and
near it was fought a battle in which Margaret of Anjou
Above Newcastle, on the Tyne, are villages, where are
foundries for smelting and working iron. It is wonderful
Pp. 9, 10, 11, 14, 15, 17, 18.
DEAR OLD ENGLAND.
to see these great furnaces at night. You would think
that the buildings were on fire; the flames rising high
above the chimneys, and the sky quite red with the reflec-
tion of the light.
Newcastle is an extremely smoky town. There are so
many collieries near it, (these are places where the coals
are brought from below ground,) and in it so many manu-
factories of iron or glass, all having tall chimneys, from
which smoke is poured forth in clouds, that the whole
place seems to be in an atmosphere of smoke. The town
is, however, in the new part extremely well built;-the
streets, monuments, and public rooms are very handsome,
and the markets, covered with stone and glass, amongst the
finest in Europe. There is a very old castle here, which
was built by Robert the son of William the Conqueror.
It must have been then that the town got the name of New-
castle, which it still keeps. In this old castle are many
strange things, once belonging to the Romans, which have
been found under or near the Picts' wall.
The Northumberland Newcastle is always called New-
castle-on-Tyne, to distinguish it from a large town in Staf-
fordshire, which has the name of Newcastle-under-Lyne.
Across the Tyne is a splendid railway bridge, very, very
high. On the top of the arches is a road for passengers
and carriages, and above it is an iron road for the railway
trains. Though Newcastle is so smoky, the people who
live there like it very much, and talk about canny New-
castle." Large flat-bottomed boats come up the river,
called keels, to be filled with coals. The boatmen have a
very favourite song, with a pretty tune, the chorus of
Weel may the keel row, the keel row, the keel row,"
which nearly all Northumberland people sing.
Near Newcastle are lead-works, where shot and bullets
and various leaden things are made, and where silver is
extracted from the molten lead. The shot, to be round,
must fall through sieves at a great height; so the shot
tower is made very high, and you see it far off. White
lead, which is used in t;.,itl is also. made at these
works; but they are so unwholesome, that the poor work-
people seldom live long. At Newcastle the celebrated
Armstrong guns are partly made. They can carry cannon-
balls a distance of nearly five miles. Pleasanter works
than these, for they speak of peace and not of war, are the
Wylam Iron-works, which belonged to George and Robert
Stephenson.* There, is shown the first moving steam-
engine that ever drew a train. At Newcastle is the
largest manufactory in England for these engines called
locomotives. They are sent hence to France, and Russia,
and Egypt, and India, and to all parts of the world.
From Newcastle to North Shields the river presents a
lively scene-potteries, iron-works, wharves, shipbuilding,
and collieries. The smoke and business thicken, as North
and South Shields on the opposite sides of the river are
approached. These two towns are connected by a steam
ferry, into which boat you may drive, and if you choose,
look out of the carriage window on the water below, and
the many ships around. More vessels sail from the Tyne
than the Thames, only they are not so large. It is very
pleasant to see them passing, each drawn by a busy steam-
tug. The little tug often draws a large three-masted ship;
and even so, little children may do for themselves and
others great things if they will but try. At the mouth of
the river is Tynemouth, a pleasant bathing-place, where
there is a great rock, on which are the ruins of a beautiful
old priory. Monks once lived there, but now soldiers.
DEAR OLD ENGLAND.
When the north and east winds blow hard, the sea is very
rough off Tynemouth rocks, and ships coming into the
Tyne are often dashed to pieces. To see the cliffs crowded
with the sailors' anxious wives and children, to watch the
vessels driven onwards to destruction, to hear, perhaps,
the sailors' cry, .and to discover them clinging to the masts
and rigging, and yet not to be able to help them, is indeed
a sad sight. Another time you shall hear of the efforts
made to improve the entrance of the river; and, after you
have told me all you can remember about Northumber-
land, we will cross the Tyne and enter Durham.
The teacher will find it a good plan on the following
day, to rehearse the various places that have been men-
tioned, tracing the rivers from the hills to the ocean, and
talking about the towns and castles on their banks.
The teacher might imagine meeting boats or ships, and
make the children guess with what produce they may be
laden, as, for instance, salmon in the Tweed, smaller trout
or coals in the Coquet, iron, glass, coals, pottery-ware, etc.,
in the Tyne. This might be varied by taking the line of
rail between Berwick and Newcastle, and leading the
children to think of the various articles or people that
may fill the trucks and carriages. Thus, at Berwick, sal-
mon; between that place and Alnwick, Cheviot sheep and
cows; at Alnwick and Warkworth, excursionists who
have been viewing the castles, whilst, nearer to Newcastle
trucks of coal should be added to the train.
Then the teacher might go along the Newcastle and
Carlisle Railway, making the children think of what they
would see, such as the river Tyne, bridges, castles, the
abbey-church at Hexham, the iron-foundries, trucks of
lead ore-of iron, of coal, of coke; as the train went west-
ward, heather hills, and the sportsman with his gun, and
grouse, with here and there a peep of the Picts' wall. Or,
again, there might be an imaginary sail, between the Tweed
and the Tyne;-Holy Island and the Ferne Islands viewed,
the name of Grace Darling recalled, the sea-fowls observed,
Bamborough, Dunstanborough, and Warkworth castles
pointed out, the mouth of the Alne and Coquet passed,
Coquet Island touched at, Tynemouth rocks and priory,
marking the entrance of the Tyne, described.
These are merely suggestions, to make the recapitulation
more interesting than a regular routine of question and
ON the south side of the Tyne lies the county of Durham.
Though not nearly so large as Northumberland, more
people live in it. There are not so many farmers, nor
labourers who are called agriculturalists; but there are
more colliers, more shipwrights,-that is, men who make
ships,-more sailors, and more manufacturers. The roads
in the county of Durham never look white, but are black
with coal dust; and in the eastern districts, the trees and
hedges are very sooty.
There are fine cliffs along the coast, especially those
called the Marsden Rocks, and there are frequently tall,
massive blocks standing solitary, a little distance from
the shore. Inland, the country is very bleak and bare.
There are, however, pretty valleys along the banks of the
rivers. The grass grows richly along the lower course of
the Tees; and the cattle feeding on it, called the "Dur-
ham Shorthorns," are reckoned the finest in the kingdom.
In the west, there are desolate, hilly moors. If you were
travelling through Durham, you would be most struck bythe
coal-pits; so I shall here give you the description of one.
DEAR OLD ENGLAND.
DESCRIPTION OF A DURHAM COAL-PIT.
Above ground you see a tall chimney with a quantity
of smoke pouring out, an engine-house where the steam-
engine is very busy winding up the coal, low sheds, and
large heaps of small coal. Sometimes these great heaps
are on fire. Formerly, they used to light the country all
round; but now the small coal is consumed in glass-houses
If you wanted to go down a shaft, that is, the hole of
the pit, something like a very wide and long chimney, you
would have to be dressed like a pitman, in wide begrimed
trousers, loose flannel jacket, and round leather cap with
a broad brim. Then you would have to get into a cage,
or a basket, and keep your legs and arms very steady; and
in four or five minutes, you may descend about a thou-
sand feet, as deep as three St Paul's Cathedrals would be
At the bottom of the shaft or chimney, you meet pas-
sages, the walls of which are made of coal. There is gene-
rally one main passage, and several others turning right
and left, like one long street, and small ones stretching
away on either side. If you went down one of these, you
would find it gradually get narrower and lower, till at
length you reached the part where the hewers are, knock-
ing the coal in lumps out of the face of the coal wall that
is before them. They seem strange black-looking men,
some kneeling, some stooping, some lying upon their
backs, but all pick, picking away. It is, of course, quite
dark, excepting the light from the lamps or candles which
the men are burning. Baskets filled with the coals are
placed on little trucks and moved along an underground
railway to the bottom of the shaft. Little ponies, strong,
but generally blind, draw these trucks, and boys, as young
as ten or twelve years old, drive them. The pitmen gene-
rally fasten themselves very fast in the loop of a rope to
be drawn up the shaft, and the men take the little boys
on their knees, or hold them tight in their arms. Poor
fellows, how seldom they see the sun, working down in the
dark regions all day long.
The pitmen live in long straight rows of houses near the
pits. They call them Shiney Rows," and that in which
the chief men of the pit live is known as Quality Row."
When the men reach home they wash themselves, and
then sit down to their tea and singing hinnies." Don't
you think the wives should make the houses very comfort-
able, when their husbands have to work for them in such
dark and dreary places ?
Sometimes there are very sad accidents. The air in
the pits becomes foul, or full of a gas which is called fire-
DEAR OLD ENGLAND.
damp. This easily catches fire, and makes a tremendous
explosion. Some of the men are burnt, others suffocated,
whilst some are killed by the falling in of the ground, or
perhaps drowned, by the bursting of the wells of water.
The noise of the explosion brings to the pit's mouth the
wives of the poor men, feeling anxious lest their husbands
should be killed. As the bodies are brought up, there is
great weeping. Sometimes a poor woman may lose her
husband and all her sons at once.
I will tell you the story of a little boy, who, with thirty-
five men and forty-one boys, was, in consequence of one
of these sad accidents, either starved or suffocated. He
was found dead, with a Bible and a tin box at his side.
Inside the box lid, he had, with a sort of nail, scratched
these words, Fret not, dear mother, for we are singing the
praises of God, whilst we have time. Mother, follow God
more than ever I did. Joseph, think of God, and be kind
to poor mother."
The pitmen have generally large families. Many boys
are great riches to a poor pitman, because, as soon as a
boy is ten years old, he may work in the mines and get
wages. Dear children, you may all be riches to your
parents, if you bring them a good name on earth, and be
like jewels for them to present to God in heaven.
Durham is a rich county, but its riches are all under
ground, in these coal-mines and in the lead-mines that are
worked in the west. It also produces a valuable hard
sandstone used for grinding. Several things we use have
probably come from-the county of Durham. Perhaps the
coals, perhaps the lead with which the spouts are lined;
very probably the glass of the mirrors, and the glass of the
window-panes too, if they are large ones. Then the soda
that the washerwoman uses, or that the chemist sells for
seidlitz powders; and magnesia for Gregory's Mixture.
Mustard for dinner is called Durham Mustard; but it really
comes from York.
I must now tell you about some great and good people
born in this county.
Have you heard of the brave Sir Henry Havelock, who
feared God, but did not fear all the wicked mutineers in
India, and marched up to Lucknow, to save the poor Eng-
lish there from ten thousands of their enemies? That
brave Sir Henry was born near Sunderland.
At South Shields lived Mr Greathead, who invented life-
At a small village further up the Tyne, there lived a
very long time ago, a little boy, of the name of Bede; he
was an orphan, and when six years old was taken to a re-
ligious house to be educated. As he grew older, he learnt
to read Latin; and then he loved to read the Bible, for,
in those days, there were no English Bibles. He wrote
several books; and when he was an old man, translated
St John's Gospel into English. On the day he died,
having finished its last sentence, he begged the young man
who had written what he had dictated to support his head
a little while. He soon sank to the ground, saying,
" Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy
Ghost !" Bede's tomb is in the cathedral of Durham, and
he is always called The Venerable Bede." His chair
may still be seen at Jarrow, where he was born. With one
more story about a good man, who had a parish in this
county, in the time of Queen Mary, we must finish to-day's
lesson. His name was Bernard Gilpin. He was a Pro-
testant, loved the Bible, and worked very hard, preaching
about Jesus in the North of England. The wicked Bishop
Bonner heard of him, and threatened that he should be
burnt in a fortnight.* So the judges sent for him to come
DEAR OLD ENGLAND.
to London. Gilpin used always to say, that whatever
happened was intended for good. As he travelled to
London, he broke his leg. Some that were with him said,
"Well, is this meant for your good ?" He said, "I have
no doubt of it." And before his leg was better, a message
came down to say that Queen Mary was dead, and that he
was at liberty. Try always to trust God like good Ber-
You know something about the Tyne on the north side.
We will now follow it on the Durham side. This little
river that runs into it is called the Derwent. The valley
through which it flows is very pretty. There are manu-
facturing villages all down the Tyne till you reach Gates-
head. At one of these, very near Gateshead, wire ropes
are made and telegraph wires. Gateshead is a large town
immediately opposite Newcastle; the High Level Bridge,
of which I told you before, and another bridge, connecting
the two towns.* At Gateshead there are large soap-works
and glass manufactories, where the glass is cut, and where
the mirrors are polished that look so bright in drawing-
rooms. A few years ago, there wasa verygreat fire in Gates-
head. After it had burnt a little while, tremendous ex-
plosions took place. A building full of something like
gunpowder had taken fire. Every window in Gateshead
and Newcastle shook; many were broken; and all the
people were startled out of their beds. Then great burn-
ing pieces of timber fell in the streets, injuring many of
the people and setting fire to a great many more houses,
How the fire-engines did play, and the brave firemen work.
At last, through God's mercy, the fire was stopped. Some
parts of Newcastle and Gateshead are very dirty, and
when the cholera has been in England it has been worse
here than anywhere.
Further down the river is Jarrow, where the Venerable
Bede lived. It is not now a place for study, but a busy,
bustling town, where many ships are built, and where
there are docks in which they are laden or unladen, shel-
tered or repaired.
The south side of the Tyne is as busy as the north side.
A great deal of shipbuilding goes forward, and there are
many manufactories. Below Jarrow is South Shields,
which is even more smoky than Newcastle. A colliery is
in the centre of the town, and many chimneys continually
send forth clouds of smoke. The highest chimneys belong
to the alkali or soda works, where soda is made from salt
and sulphur and charcoal. The lower ones, wider at the
bottom and narrowing upwards, belong to the glass works.
Here it is that sand and flint are melted into glass. When
these have been molten for a long time, the fiery liquid is
poured into a caldron. This huge vessel is pushed on
wheels along the dark stone passages, then raised on a
hook and swung in the air till it is exactly at the proper
place, Then it is turned over, and the red-hot glass is
poured on iron tables surrounded with a rim as high as the
glass is to be thick, to prevent the liquid from running
over. After being smoothed, the glass is drawn into a hot
place to cool. It must be hot at first, or it would get too
quickly cold and would crack. In this way plate glass is
made ; common glass is blown. The workmen seem half
dried up with the heat. They wear thin woollen veils,
lest the sparks should burn their eyes.
Along the banks of the Tyne, are mounds 200 or 300
feet high, formed of gravel and earth, brought from the
bottom of the Thames, or from foreign places. Why is it
brought, for it does no good there, and looks very unsightly ?
DEAR OLD ENGLAND.
It is brought as ballast; something heavy to weigh down
the ships instead of the coals that they take away. The
ballast is thrown out, as much as 10,000 tons in a week,
and the coal is taken in.
On each side of the Tyne, handsome stone piers are
built, which makes the entrance of the river much safer
Now, we will leave the Tyne, and follow the course of
the Wear. The first interesting place on its banks is
Bishop Auckland, where the Bishop of Durham lives.
Afterwards, we reach Durham. It is a curious old town,
with very steep narrow streets. On the top of the banks
are the beautiful cathedral, and the castle which is now
used as a college. The cathedral is built of stone, and is
very massive and grand-looking. Do you remember whose
tomb is there ?
Durham is not full of manufactories, like Shields and
Newcastle. There are beautiful woods and gardens stretch-
ing down to the river side; and on the water there is a great
number of skiffs. Once the Wear was on fire. Some gas
escaped from the coal-mines below the river, through
cracks in its bed. When this was found out, funnels
were placed over the cracks, with pipes fastened to them
long enough to reach the surface. These were lighted and
brilliant flames burnt, thousands of people going to see the
river on fire.
A great battle was fought at a place near Durham
called Neville's Cross. It was between the English and
Scotch.* Edward III. was away at the time; but when
his brave queen heard that the Scotch king, David, was
marching into England, she collected a small army, and
went to meet him. After a hard-fought battle, David was
wounded and made prisoner. It is said that before the
Pp. 9, 15, 19.
battle began, the brave queen, Philippa, begged the
soldiers to fight manfully, and then went to a quiet place,
that she might pray for them.
Not far distant is Witton-Gilbert, where we read of the
longest snow-storm ever known in England. It is more
than two hundred years ago. It began to snow on Janu-
ary 5, and snowed, more or less, every day till March 12,
causing both men and cattle to lose their lives.
Further down the Wear, which runs between prettily-
wooded banks, is a ruined abbey, called Finchall, where
very long ago, a foolish man, named St Godric, lived.
Instead of enjoying the good things that God had kindly
given him, he put himself to torture by wearing an iron
shirt, eating bread mixed with ashes three or four months
old, standing, during the cold winter, up to his neck in
water to pray, and doing many other senseless things;
imagining, like the poor Hindoos, that God was pleased to
see him tortured. Below Finchall, is Chester-le-Street,
with a fine old church and very curious monuments. It
is supposed to have been a Roman station. Along the
Wear are several castles; some inhabited by noblemen,
and some in ruins. There are many collieries, and as the
river approaches the sea, a great deal of shipbuilding.
There are also manufactories for various things; such as
paper, glass, copperas, and earthenware. At the mouth of
the river is a large town called Sunderland, where there
are glass-houses and potteries, and shipbuilding yards,
and docks for ships, besides a great deal of commerce.
Such towns are called commercial. A very handsome iron
bridge, the second ever made in England, connects Sunder-
land with Monk-Wearmouth, an old town where there used
to be a monastery.
Some of the little rivers which fall into the sea, south
of the Wear, run through beautiful dells. One of these,
DEAR OLD ENGLAND.
Castle Eden Dean, is extremely pretty; the deep glen, the
over-hanging trees, and the brawling stream, making a very
In the south, on the coast, is Hartlepool, another com-
mercial town. Long, long ago, before commerce and
steam were so busy, this town stood beside a pond, where
the deer used to come and cool themselves; and so it was
called Hart-le-pol, or, The Deer's Pond. In St Hilda's
church, at Hartlepool, there is a fine old tomb, to the
memory of some person unknown; perhaps a great warrior,
or a beautiful lady, or a rich lord; but all forgotten now.
Will you ask God to write your names in heaven ? There
they shall never be forgotten, for God has said, "Their
names are continually before me."
The river, which separates Durham from Yorkshire, is
called the Tees. It rises in Cumberland. As it leaves
the dreary moorland, it rushes over great precipices, look-
ing very grand, and forming two beautiful waterfalls
-the Caldron Shoot, and the High Force. The Caldron
Shoot is a succession of precipices, over which the water
rushes and foams, seeming in haste to escape from its
former desolate region, to the prettier one beyond. The
High Force is nearly perpendicular. You may there
stand on the rock, which divides the river in the centre,
and see the water come foaming and splashing on each
side of you. High rocks form the river banks. They
are covered with beautiful old oak-trees, and elegant
mountain-ashes. When the sun shines, it forms rain-
bow colours on the spray that rises very high. Is not
God kind to make so many pretty scenes in our native
The first town on the Tees is Barnard Castle. Here,
there are beautiful ruins of an ivy-covered castle. Along
the banks of the river are mills for spinning thread. On
a little stream, which joins the Tees from the north, is
Darlington. There are several small manufactories here
for carpets and linen, and fairs for all sorts of cattle, and
a large railway station. Further along the Tees are pretty
villages, such as Dinsdale and Middleton, where there
are iron waters, which invalids drink to strengthen them-
selves. Stockton is a well-built commercial town, whence
ships take away coal, iron, and the various things manu-
factured in the neighbourhood. Between Stockton and
Darlington, the second railway made in England was con-
Now my relation of the somewhat grimy, but very useful
county of Durham is over, I shall look to you to tell me,
to-morrow, of its coal-pits, manufactures, and scenery.
These chapters may be revised by tracing the rivers from
.their sources, or by coasting the county from the Tyne to the
In tracing the Tyne, part of the old lesson on Northum-
berland should not be forgotten. The shipbuilding going
forward on all the rivers of Durham, must be especially
mentioned; as it may be termed the characteristic of the
rivers of that county.
The journey along the railroad may also be followed, as
in the county of Northumberland.
Again, the children might imagine they were visiting the
county under different characters. One party as archaeolo-
gists, fond of old remains; the second as mineralogists,
engaged in mines; the third, as commercial men, inquir-
ing into the manufactories, &c. ; and the fourth, as tourists,
in search of picturesque scenery. In this case, the archaeo-
logist would endeavour to search out the old monastery at
Jarrow; especially notice the cathedral and castle at Dur-
ham; Venerable Bede's tomb, his chair, &c.; Neville's
DEAR OLD ENGLAND.
Cross; Finchall Abbey; Barnard Castle; St Hilda's at
Hartlepool; and, though not exactly a subject for archae-
ology, the rectory of Houghton-le-Spring, good Bernard
Gilpin's home, might be pointed out.
The mineralogists would descend the coal-mines, each
child mentioning something he remembers. They would
likewise visit the lead-mines in the west.
The commercial men would order goods from the glass-
works at Sunderland, South Shields, or Gateshead: from
the potteries, at these several places; the alkali or soda-
works, at South Shields; the telegraph and wire roperies,
at Gateshead; they would order linen from Darlington,
and thread from the banks of the Tees. They must arrange
concerning transit at the railway stations (point on the map)
and at the sea-ports, South Shields, Sunderland, Hartlepool,
The tourists would delight to visit the Tees in its upper
course; they would also see Durham, situated so beautifully
on the steep banks of the Wear, and not forget the pre-
cipitous cliffs of Marsden rocks, and the beauties of Castle
All might unite as biographers of the great and good, and
recall the names of Sir Henry Havelock, Greathead, Bede,
WE have now come to the largest county in, all England
-great, big Yorkshire. It is as large as half-a-dozen of
the central counties. There are seven counties touching
Yorkshire. You remember Durham with its coal-mines;
and here is pretty little Westmoreland, and manufacturing
Lancashire, about which I shall soon tell you; and here is
Cheshire, the county for cheeses; and Derbyshire; and
Nottinghamshire, the county like an egg; and this large
county on the coast, Lincolnshire. On the east, it has the
same wide sea, the German ocean, as washes the coasts of
Northumberland and Durham.
Several large rivers run through Yorkshire, making a
great part of the county very fertile. They rise amongst
the mountains in the west, and generally run south-east to
join the Ouse. This unites with other long rivers from the
middle of England, such as this one, the Trent; and they
together all form the broad Humber, on which many ships
The west of Yorkshire is very mountainous. Some of
the highest mountains of England's backbone, which you
may trace from the Cheviots to Derbyshire, are there; and
through them are cut the longest railway tunnels in all Eng-
land; and across one of them passes the highest railway.
These mountains are formed of limestone; and there are in
them most wonderful caverns, of which I shall tell you soon.
There are some tarns, or large mountain-ponds, amongst
them; but no beautiful lakes, as in Cumberland and West-
moreland. Some of the bases or bottoms of these moun-
tains are very wide, that of Ingleborough being thirty miles
round. In the north-east of Yorkshire, nearer the sea,
there are likewise considerable hills and moorlands, where
the weather is very cold. These hills stretch quite to the
sea between Flamborough Head and the mouth of the
Tees, and form a splendid bold coast. There is a place
near Whitby called Stoupe Brow, where the cliff is nearly
900 feet high. How far can you walk along the road in
three minutes ? Then fancy that distance straight up like
the wall of a house.
There are two capes on the coast of Yorkshire-Flam-
borough Head and Spurn Head. Flamborough Head, or
DEAR OLD ENGLAND.
the head with a flame, so called on account of the beacon-
fire that used to burn there, is very high, and formed of
brilliant white chalk; whilst Spurn Head is a low ridge
of sand and shingle, tapering to a point. The sea washes
away every year about two yards and a half of the shore all
the waybetween Bridlington Bay and Spurn Head, and then
it washes back all this soil into the Humber; so that some
land, called Sunk Island-which, 200 years ago in the
reign of Charles I., was a mud bank in the middle of the
river-now forms a part of the land, and is covered with
corn-fields and meadows, farm-buildings and cottages, and
in the midst there is a church.
The part of Yorkshire between the western hills and the
eastern moorlands, is generally full of valleys and green
fields. From the west flow the Swale, the Ure, the
Wharfe, the Nidd, the Aire, and the Don. Can you trace
them on the map ? The country between them is fre-
quently flat. In Yorkshire, we find the largest vale in
England. It is called the vale of York, and is about sixty
miles in length. It is full of beautiful green fields, and
hedgerows with fine tall trees. Though there are many
pretty cottages, and the quiet wandering rivers look like
strings of silver, the scenery is not grand, and if you
lived there, you would, I think, long to see high hills and
to run down steep slopes. In the south-west of Yorkshire
the country is very beautiful, with wooded hills, val-
leys, and rivers. Altogether, Yorkshire is one of the
finest counties of England, as well as the largest. It is
divided into three parts-called the North, the East,
and the West Ridings. The North-Riding stretches
from the county of Westmoreland to the sea. The
west is a very large division, from the mountains to the
Ouse; and the east contains all the rich, flat land from
the Humber in the south, to the Derwent in the
In the east of Yorkshire, a great deal of corn is grown;
and in the west, the fields are principally pasture, where
you would see many long-horned cattle and horned sheep
too.* In some parts of Yorkshire, you would see fields
covered with a plant, having a beautiful blue flower in
July, and afterwards a head of silky seeds. This is flax,
of which linen is made. Near York, are large fields of a
yellow flower-mustard; t and there are also fields of
another yellow flower-teasel, which is used in dressing
cloth for jackets. A great many very thin cattle are
brought into Yorkshire, every year, from Scotland, and
sold to the farmers, who soon fatten them on their rich
grass, and then sell them to the butchers, in Leeds, Shef-
field, Manchester, and all the many manufacturing towns.
A great number of beautiful horses are reared in the north
and east of the county. There is, too, a busy, useful little
insect, that you would often see; I mean the busy bee,
Gathering honey all the day
From many an opening flower."
The oak-trees are not large, but the wood is very hard
and good. Little and good, is better than much and bad
It is almost all made into butter firkins.
In some parts of this county, a great deal of coal is
found; but not so good as in Northumberland and Dur-
ham. There are also iron and lead, and stone for build-
ing, and a kind of blue clay, which makes beautiful white
brick; near Whitby is found alum, a useful white mineral,
and jet, which makes very pretty black ornaments.
Amongst the clay and gravel, near the east coast of
Yorkshire, have been found curious fossils of enormous
Pages 8, 23. + Page 27.
DEAR OLD ENGLAND.
animals, with teeth ten inches round, and a great many
fossil-shells and snake-stones. Beautiful crystals have
also been discovered.
Now we must think of some of the things that you use,
which have probably come from Yorkshire, for, in many
parts, it is a busy, manufacturing county. At one town,
Sheffield, rough iron is turned into knives, scissors, tools,
nails, and scythes; and there, too, tea-pots, coffee-pots, dish-
covers, and many articles of metal covered over with silver,
called plated goods, are made. At another town, Leeds,
and at Bradford, and several other places, you would find
large manufactories full of people and machines making
woollen goods, particularly cloth for little boys' jackets,
stuffs for their sisters' frocks, shawls, blankets, and many
other comfortable things. It has been said of Yorkshire,
that it clothes one-third of civilised men in wool, and
finds them in files and penknives. It furnishes our ward-
robes, our dinner-tables, and our armouries. Now look
round this room and think what may have come from
Yorkshire. Is there anything in Johnny's pocket or in
Amy's work-box ? Anything that Charlie or Mary wears?
The people in Yorkshire are generally strong in body,
and hearty, independent and sensible in their ways. They
are fond of making money, and think a great deal of their
beautiful large county. They have good wages and good
food. They are not so polite and polished as the people
farther south, and have generally a very ugly tone of voice.
In some parts, they talk something like the Dutch, accord-
ing to the following rhyme :-
Gooid brede, better, and cheese,
Is good Yorkshire and good Friese."
This refers to Friesland, a part of Holland.
There have been many famous men born in this county
-such as Captain Cook, who sailed all round the world;
Miles Coverdale, who translated the Bible into English;
Wycliffe, the great and good reformer; and others, about
whom I will tell you, when we come to the towns where
they were born.
There are many beautiful churches and old ruined
abbeys. Indeed, I think if Northumberland is the county
for castles,* Yorkshire is for churches and abbeys. But I
fancy you have heard quite enough of great Yorkshire for
one day; or the account to-morrow will be large and bad,
instead of little and good.
THE most interesting way of learning about Yorkshire,
will be to follow its beautiful rivers from the mountains
to the sea. You know the name of the river that separates
it from Durham, and you can remember about the fine
waterfalls in the upper part of its course. As we follow
it on the Yorkshire side, we find the scenery wild and
beautiful, and we pass two celebrated places-Rokeby and
Wycliffe. Sir Walter Scott has written a long poem about
Rokeby, and described its pretty scenery and old abbey;
and Wycliffe is said, by some, to be the birthplace of the
good reformer, John Wycliffe, who translated the Bible
into English, and is called the Morning Star of the Refor-
mation. Why ? Because he lived some time before
Luther, who was like its sun; he shone when all was in
Popish darkness round about, and he was a forerunner of
the brighter light.
Wycliffe's Bible was not printed or spelt like ours. The
printing was in black letter. Can you read the Lord's
Prayer as it was then written:-
Pages 9, 19.
DEAR OLD ENGLAND.
" Our ffabif that art in bebengz; balcebio be tbi name.
bg kifngtom come to, be tii toil bone in the ertbh az in benenm.
&ibe to us tbis bag oure brbt e obir otbir sub tance.
atnb forfibe to us out bettis as inc forgive to our betteris.
2inb lebe us not into temptation; but begler us from pbel.
A small town on the south bank of the Tees is Croft,
with mineral waters, and another is Yarm, where many
cheeses are sold. Between the eastern mountains and
the Tees is a beautiful fertile valley, called the Vale of
Here is Marton, where Captain Cook was born. He
was born in a poor little cottage, with only two rooms,
and was taught to read by the mistress, in whose service
he was. Her name Mary Walker is on one of the tomb-
stones of the little churchyard. How little she thought
that the poor child to whom she was so kind, would be-
come so celebrated a navigator.
Another place on the Tees is Middlesborough, which has
grown large all at once, where thousands of tons of iron,
dug from the Cleveland hills, are smelted, so that the pure
iron is separated from the iron ore.
In this neighbourhood is Rosebury Topping, a famous
hill, from which we may look, for the last time, into old
Northumberland; it was in this district that Robert the
Bruce, the famous Scottish king, was born.
Now, let us return to the mountains, and find the
Swale, the next river south of the Tees. Between it and
the Tees is Mickle Fell, the highest mountain in York-
shire, 2600 feet. You do not see the sea from this moun-
tain ; but the view is very fine-the lake mountains in the
west-the valleys opening to receive the Yorkshire rivers-
the Cleveland hills far away to the east, and all round by
the south-west the massy mountains of Penyghent, Whern-
side, and Ingleborough.
Following the Swale, after passing many lead mines, we
reach Richmond. This is an oldtown, with an old castle, very
famous for its beautiful situation. It was built in William
the Conqueror's time, by Alan the Red. Here King Arthur
and his knights are said to be asleep, in some mysterious
room, waiting till a great perilof England shall awaken them.
Further down the river is Catterick, to which the Romans
gave the dreadfully long name of Catteractorium.
Further down, on a branch of the river, you see North-
allerton marked. About three miles from this is a hill
called Standard Hill, where the Yorkshire men fought a
great battle with David, king of Scotland. The bishops, in
those days, were often soldiers; and a very warrior-like
bishop, called Thurston, led the army. To encourage the
men, Thurston had mounted upon wheels a great pole
headed with a cross, and from it hung three large standards
of three celebrated saints. The Scotch king and his sol-
diers were afraid when they saw this, and were quite de-
feated-10,000, it is said, being killed. This was called
the Battle of the Standard.*
Below Northallerton is Thirsk, a good-sized town. These
are all agricultural towns, more celebrated for their mar-
kets than for their manufactures.
At last the Swale joins the Ure, and the two form the Ouse,
at a small town, Boroughbridge. Near to it stand three
enormous stones, eighteen and twenty feet high. They are
called the Devil's Arrows,because a foolish story says he shot
them to destroy a city. They were probably placed there by
the early Britons, though we wonder how, in their savage
state, they were able to move such immense stones.
Now, we must return to the next river we see in the
Pages 9, 15, 19, 30.
DEAR OLD ENGLAND.
north-west of Yorkshire ; it is the Ure, and flows through
a beautiful valley called Wensleydale. Near its source are
desolate moors and wild leaping waterfalls. Below one of
these, during a very hard frost, the water froze. The spring
from above, continued supplying it with water, which
formed a cone that rose higher and higher, till at last it
was as high as a church steeple, and thirty yards round at
the bottom-an icy pyramid. These moors are so large
that the many-scattered sheep appear very few.
At an old village in this wild country, a horn is still
blown during winter at ten o'clock at night. It used to
be a signal for benighted travellers in the forests, to know
where they might find a shelter.
On the banks of the Ure are ruins of old castles and
abbeys. At Bolton Castle, the unfortunate Mary, Queen
of Scotland, was a prisoner. Below it is Coverdale, where
Miles Coverdale, who translated and printed the Bible, in
the reign of Henry VIII., was born.
The Ure soon rushes over a great waterfall, Aysgarth
Force. The view of the foaming water, and the bridge
stretching over from the rock on either side, is very beau-
We may now follow the Ure for some distance, during
which the narrow glen widens into an extensive fertile
valley, till we come to Ripon. Here there is a cathedral,
built about 700 years ago. Under it are chambers called
catacombs, where the bones and skulls of the dead are
curiously preserved and arranged. At Ripon, at nine o'clock
every night, a horn is blown three times at the Mayor's door,
and again at the Market Cross. This has been done ever
since the time of Alfred the Great, or for 1000 years.
About three miles from Ripon are the ruins of one of
the most beautiful abbeys in England, called Fountain's
Pages 7, 23. t Page 32.
Abbey. The first monks were very poor, and lived under
some straw thatching placed amongst the branches of seven
yew trees, eating at times boiled leaves of trees and wild
plants. It is said that once when the monks had only two
loaves and a half of bread, a stranger asked for food. The
abbot or chief said, "Give him one loaf, God will provide
for us;" and soon a cart-load of bread arrived, sent by a
neighboring baron. Afterwards rich people left the
monks a great deal of money, and then they built the
beautiful abbey and lived on rich fare.
Now we may follow the Ure to Boroughbridge, where
the great stones are, and you must tell me with what river
it there unites.
Now return to the next river, south of the Ure. It is
called the Nidd. I shall only tell you of one place on its
banks, the old town of Knaresborough, with houses on the
steep hill-side, the door-steps of one being as high as the
chimney-tops of another. There is, above them all, a fine
DEAR OLD ENGLAND.
old ruined castle. The great curiosity of Knaresborough
is the Dropping Well. Near the beautiful river is a lime-
stone rock, thirty feet high; over this water constantly
drops. This water is full of particles of lime, with which
it incrusts whatever is placed below, so that plants, birds'
nests, twigs, and all kinds of things, seem, in a few weeks,
to be petrified or turned to stone.
Near this is a chapel, called St Robert's, with hideous
faces carved on the wall, and outside the door an immense
stone figure, drawing a sword. A mile off is St Robert's
Cave, where a frightful murder was committed more than
a hundred years ago; but after thirteen years, discovered
by the providence of God. The wicked murderer, Eugene
Aram, a schoolmaster, was an extremely clever man, wrote
poetry, was a good historian, understood botany, and had
studied a number of languages; but you know a clever
head does not make a good heart, and the love of money
led him to this frightful sin. Do you remember a verse
in the Bible about the love of money ?
Enough for to-day; but we still, have more rivers in
great Yorkshire to trace.
BEFORE we search the source of the next river, we must
visit the large ancient and celebrated city which stands on
the Ouse, between the Nidd and the Wharfe. It is York,
the county town of Yorkshire. It is one of the very oldest
towns in England; there was a little collection of huts,
where British chieftains lived, even before the Romans
came. When the Romans took possession of England,
they made York their capital town. Here two of their
emperors died, and it is said to have been the birthplace
of the famous Constantine the Great. York has a very
old castle, and an exceedingly grand cathedral, reckoned
the finest in England.* Its towers are so high, its arches
so many, its clustered pillars so elegant, and its windows
so beautiful, that everybody admires it; and we are glad
that a place so magnificent is for the best of uses, the
worship of God. Twice, however, within the last fifty
years, it has been very nearly burnt down-once by a
madman, to make himself famous, and another time by
the carelessness of a workman. What untold harm, fool-
ishness and carelessness will often cause!
The old castle of York is now used as a jail.t In King
John's time, some hundreds of Jews were barbarously shut
up in this castle, that the wicked king might extort their
money, and when they would not give it up, it is said, he
ordered the only well in the castle to be poisoned, so that
they all died. There is a beautiful ruined abbey, St Mary's,
and the remains of an old hospital, but many years ago
these ruins were used as a quarry, and the stones
were taken away to build houses, and great heaps were
burnt in a lime-kiln. Near the city are several battle-
fields; Stamford Brig, where King Harold conquered the
King of Norway, just before he went to Hastings to be
conquered by the Duke of Normandy; Marston Moor,
where Prince Rupert, leading King Charles's army, was
defeated; and Towton, the scene of one of the bloody
battles of the Roses.
The city is surrounded by walls, which were first built
in the time of the Romans. These have four bars or gates.
Who do you think was born near York ? Guy Fawkes.
Etty, a celebrated painter, and Flaxman, a famous sculp-
tor, were also born here, besides other distinguished people.
The Wharfe, the next river that we reach, has a much
longer course to run than the Nidd. It rises far away in
Page 30. t Compare castles, pp. 10, 11, 15, 20, 30.
DEAR OLD ENGLAND.
the west, in the great mountain of Ingleborough. And
now, before I tell you any more about the river, you shall
hear of some splendid caverns that are found in the side
of this hill. Some of them have strange names, such as
Cat-Knot-Hole, Long Churn, Dicken Pot. The first I will
describe is Weathercote Cave, in the pretty valley of
Chapel-le-Dale. You go down a rough flight of steps into
a narrow rocky chasm, covered with ferns and mosses;
you pass a spring, which, like the dropping-well at Knares-
borough, turns the moss to stone; and soon you see, at
the farthest end, a white column of water rushing and
roaring over the rock, eighty feet high. You cannot see
the sky, for the bushes on the top of the narrow crevice
meet. The water is swallowed up in the bed of pebbles
on which it falls. Would you like to wander along that
dark cave, and hear the tremendous roar of the foaming
But now you shall hear of the still more famous cave of
Ingleborough, through which you may go half a mile into
the centre of the mountain. It is near the little village of
The entrance is a low wide passage that gradually be-
comes narrower. The guide gives each person a lighted
candle, and unlocks an iron gate, which is the entrance of
a cavern, called The Inverted Forest," for all the vegeta-
tion grows down instead of up; immense fungi hanging
from the roof. Then is reached a narrow passage cut
through a wall of stone, which divides the old from the new
cave; the inside one being called new, having been dis-
covered only a few years. As one enters it, it appears
almost like a fairy palace. The walls are of snowy white-
ness, and over the ground are spread white mounds, which
seem to glitter as with millions of diamonds.
Beyond this is a wider cavern, called Pillar Hall. Here
thousands of the white crystals, called stalactites, hang
from the roof; others grow upwards from the floor. At
length, owing to the constant trickling water, the ends
meet, and form the beautiful crystal pillars, some of which
are fantastically twisted. Frequently, where there is a
thin long crack in the roof, the stalactite looks like a cur-
tain suspended gracefully in this fairy hall. Some are
like a bee-hive; one of the largest, called the Jockey Cap,
is supposed to have taken 259 years to reach its present
size. Little drops of water full of grains of lime form
these beautiful things; and, in like manner, may not little
children take their tiny share in doing things that are
beautiful, because they are good ?
Farther on is a low, narrow passage, through which,
with the help of a scrubbing-brush to keep the hand from
the slippery rock, the visitor is obliged to creep. Thus is
entered the Cellar Gallery," a long sort of tunnel, with
no pretty stalactites shining. This, however, leads to the
Giant's Hall, with its lofty roof, and the stalactites and
curtains hanging as before. On one side you may look
down two holes, at the bottom of one of which is a deep
pool, into which water is ever falling. A gentleman once
swam across this dark little lake, but it was all wall at the
other side; he could go no farther. The noise of the
waterfall, plunging night and day, in the deep darkness, is
said to be very awful. Yet, would you not like to see
those fairy caverns, and to peep down those dark holes?
The other chief mountains in this part of Yorkshire
are Whernside and Penyghent. There are both a Great
and Little Whernside, one being 300 feet less than the
Now, let us descend the Wharfe, with its savage, wild,
and beautiful scenery. There are more cliffs and crags on
its banks than on any of the other rivers.
DEAR OLD ENGLAND.
Here Bolton Abbey stands. Have you ever seen Land-
seer's beautiful picture of this abbey in the olden time,
with the old monks receiving all kinds of provision,-
venison, game, fish?
The story of the lady who built Bolton Abbey is a very
sad one. She was a widow with two sons. The elder
died, and the younger, Romilly, the Boy of Egremont, for
he was born at that town in Cumberland, was the only
hope of his poor mother. A little above the Abbey is a
part of the river called "The Strid," because it is so
narrow that people can stride across it. Here the water
rushes madly and impetuously between the high rocks.
Poor Romilly tried to cross this one day-his greyhound
pulled him back-he fell, and perished in the stream.
"And the lady pray'd in heaviness,
That look'd not for relief,
But slowly did the succour come,
And a patience to her grief."
In remembrance of this unfortunate son, she built the
beautiful priory, the ruins of which still stand. There
is, also, a pretty story about the White Doe, of which
Wordsworth wrote in sweet poetry. It is said, the poor
little white doe regularly came from Rylstone, over the
hills, on Sundays, during service, and wandered gently
and timidly among the tombstones. Not far from Bolton
is Skipton Castle, which once belonged to the Shepherd
Lord Clifford, so-called, because for twenty-five years he
lived in the savage valley of Borrowdale.
Between the Wharfe and the Nidd lies Harrogate,
where is a famous well for medicinal water. It tastes
and smells of rotten eggs and sulphur. The Wharfe con-
tinues its beautiful course, passing Tadcaster, where there
are famous Roman ruins, and then enters the Ouse a
little above Selby, a small town, with a very beautiful
Leaving the more picturesque part of Yorkshire, we
shall to-morrow travel to the manufacturing districts.
IN the very west of Yorkshire, is a fertile district called
Craven, through which the Ribble flows, before it enters
Lancashire, passing westward to the Irish Sea. There
are beautiful cliffs in this district, and a very fine water-
fall, called Gordale Scar. The principal town is Settle.
Now we must again follow the rivers running east. At
the foot of one of the grandest cliffs, from a low, flat arch,
the Aire rushes out, clear as crystal, very .il. -i j t, from
what it is after passing Bradford and Leeds. Very soon,
the manufacturing towns and villages begin. Keighley
is one of the first. Then comes Shipley, near which
is Saltaire, a model town built by Sir Titus Salt.
The houses are built so as to make the work-people
comfortable, cleanly, and healthy. There is no public-
house; but there is a chapel for the worship of God,
and a hall for music and lectures. The manufactory
is like a palace, and the chimney, of immense height,
is quite ornamental. 30,000 yards of stuff for dresses
can be made there in one day. The machinery is beauti-
ful; if you saw it at work, you would almost fancy the
iron was alive and thinking.
The principal town for stuff manufactories is Bradford,
and for broad-cloth Leeds, nine miles distant. The Brad-
ford and Leeds people are each anxious that their town
should be the greatest; and if a new institution is built
in one place, a similar one is built in the other. Besides
the people employed at the looms, many are engaged in
DEAR OLD ENGLAND.
dyeing. It is curious to pass through some of the neigh-
bouring villages, and see the people with blue arms and
legs. The factory men often wear long pinafores from
the throat to the foot, to keep off the fluff that blows
about from the wool. Much of the cloth is woven in
the poor people's cottages. The rooms up-stairs are filled
with the looms, whilst those below are for cooking and
sleeping. Though they have not much furniture, there
is often a mahogany chest of drawers and an eight-day
clock. In Leeds about 50,000 people are employed in
manufactories. There are railways and canals, besides
the river, by which to send off the woollen and linen
goods. The town is generally smoky, and has many
chimneys. There is a very large school for 400 ragged
children, with a large dining hall, and sleeping rooms fur
many of them.
Now leaving the Aire for a little while, we must follow
the course of the Calder, a small river that joins it. The
first large town near the Calder that we reach is Halifax,
like Leeds, full of woollen cloth manufactories. Here there
is the largest carpet factory in England. Halifax is one
of the largest parishes in Great Britain, about 150,000
people living in it.
Further on is Batley, a place famous for making
"shoddy." "What is shoddy?" I daresay you inquire.
It is a kind of cloth made out of old clothes. Perhaps
you wear shoddy; for many gentlemen's topcoats and
ladies' Linseys are made of it, but fine broad-cloth is not
shoddy. Old clothes are sent to Batley from all parts of
Europe; soldiers' coats and monks' gowns, worsted stock-
ings and tattered scarecrows. Tremendously powerful
machines pull them all to pieces, then the fibres are
drawn out, then they are woven, and frequently dyed.
Shoddy is also made at Dewsbury, which, perhaps, you
will see on the map. Huddersfield, not far distant, is a
well-built town, where a number of dresses, partly wool,
partly silk, and partly cotton, are woven.
On the Calder is the churchyard where Robin Hood's
grave is shown; and further down is Wakefield, a well
built town with a famous old church. This town is for
farmers as well as for manufacturers, as here there is one
of the largest corn markets in the kingdom. Near Wake-
field was fought a battle during the wars between the
houses of York and Lancaster.* Below the junction of
the Calder and Aire, we find another town, Pontefract
or Pomfret. Its castle still stands, where the unhappy
Richard II. was murdered. There is a famous liquorice
manufactory here, the plant being grown in surrounding
gardens. Have you ever tasted Pomfret cakes,-small
liquorice lozenges, with a castle stamped on them ?
Now, having told you of the chief woollen manufac-
tories in Yorkshire, we will follow the Don, its most
southern river, with the smaller streams that flow into
it. Near a northern branch of it is Barnsley, where the
chief manufactories are for linen goods, such as towels,
sheetings, and damask table-cloths. Several collieries are
near it, where the most fearful explosions have been.
The worst that ever occurred was in 1866, when nearly
350 strong workmen found a grave in the deep coal-pit,
and about 20 brave men, who sought to rescue them,
perished too. On the Don is a very large town, Sheffield,
full of smoking chimneys and of noisy hammers. Can
you remember what is made at Sheffield ? If you look at
one of the table-knives, you will possibly see the name of
Rogers, Sheffield. Some of the cutlery made there is
reckoned the finest in the world. It requires intense
heat and great care to convert iron into steel; and it
DEAR OLD ENGLAND.
is wonderful to think how a little bit of coarse iron can
become a valuable blade of steel. The iron of which
steel is made comes from Sweden. Chantrey, the famous
sculptor, and Montgomery, the Christian poet, belonged to
Sheffield. Very probably you know one of Montgomery's
"Prayer is the soul's sincere desire,
Uttered or unexpressed,
The motion of a hidden fire
That trembles in the breast."
There is another large town further down the river,
Rotherham, where there are large iron and chemical works;
and below it again is Doncaster, in which are only a few
manufactories. Doncaster is a very healthy town, and
beautifully situated. One of its churches is particularly
handsome, and there is an excellent institution for teaching
the deaf and dumb children of Yorkshire. You see, towns
are very thick in the south-west of Yorkshire. They are
growing larger every day. During the last ten years more
than 300,000 people have been added to the population of
the West Riding; and the quantity of woollen goods they
manufacture has very much increased.
Now I will make a list of the manufacturing towns we
have mentioned to-day:-Keighley, Shipley, Saltaire, Brad-
ford, Leeds, Halifax, Batley, Dewsbury, Huddersfield, Wake-
field, (look back and see what kind of woollen fabric is made
at each town.)-Barnsley, famous for linen, with collieries
near it; Sheffield and Rotherham, for iron goods. You must
try and get these hard names woven into your young heads.
WE have still a large portion of Yorkshire to talk about,
so you may expect a long chapter. We must trace this river,
the Derwent, that joins the Ouse from the north-east; and
then we must suppose that we sail down the Humber, and
along the Yorkshire coast northwards to the mouth of the
Tees. The Derwent rises only a few miles from the coast;
but though "rivers to the ocean run," they cannot run up
hill; and so, if you look on the map, you will see the
Derwent has to run many miles before it reaches the sea.
On one of its little branches is Kirby Moorside, where the
once witty and wealthy Duke of Buckingham died, not in a
grand palace, but in a little cottage. He had loved the
world, and forgotten God; and when he came to die in
what has been described as the worst inn's worst room,"
uncared for and uncomforted, he felt the wretchedness of
the choice he had made. Near this is Kirkdale, where,
in dKi;i..- a quarry, the workmen discovered a cave, the
floor of which was covered with dried mud. In this mud
were found the bones of all kinds of animals-elephants,
hippopotami, horses, tigers, bears, wolves, oxen, deer,
hares, rabbits, mice, larks, ducks. From this we know
that many thousand years ago, hyenas, tigers, and elephants
must have lived in dear old England. I could tell you of
several more old abbeys and castles; but I am sure you
would forget their names. There is one beautiful old
ruin, Rivaulx Abbey, on the banks of the Rye, a branch
of the Derwent. It is covered with ivy, and is beautifully
situated in a narrow dale.*
The Derwent flows through a pretty green fertile country,
but there are no large towns upon its banks-no coal-
mines-no tall smoking chimneys. It enters the Ouse
just opposite the Aire, and their united waters form the
Humber. A little below this junction is Goole, a seaport
town, where there are large docks. f These are safe homes
for ships, when they return from their voyages, and where
they can be loaded and unloaded. Goole is at the entrance
of a canal, that is cut across England, connecting the
Humber with the Mersey.
Pages 15, 31, 39, 42, 45, 43. + Pages 29, 31.
DEAR OLD ENGLAND.
The Humber is a very broad river, almost like a part of
the sea, only the waters are earthy coloured instead of sea-
green. The largest town that stands on it is Kingston-on-
Hull, always called Hull, the name of the little river which
here enters the Humber. It is a busy, but melancholy-
looking town, perhaps because it is on a dead level and
somewhat dingy in colour. Etty, the painter, used to say
it was memorable for "mud and train-oil." This was
when a great 'many of its ships sailed to Greenland to
catch whales. Now, most whale-ships sail from Peter-
head, in Scotland. From Hull are sent cotton and woollen
and hardware goods to all parts of the world, whilst, into
Hull, ships bring iron for Sheffield, wool for Leeds, rags
for Batley, cattle and corn, oil, bones, German yeast, and
annually about 100,000 worth of children's toys, including
fifteen tons of boys' marbles.
Here William Wilberforce, the good man who persuaded
Parliament to set the poor negroes free, was born; and from
Hull, according to the famous story, Robinson Crusoe set sail.
The south-east part of Yorkshire is called Holderness.
It is a district flat and fat. It is quite level, but the soil
is so rich that everything grows abundantly Once it was,
in many parts, an unwholesome, useless swamp, but now
the land has been well drained. There was discovered
under the water an old forest of all sorts of trees, which
must have been buried there for very many years.
On the north of Holderness is Beverley, an ancient
town, where there stands a very beautiful minster.
Amongst the many interesting stories of this neighbour-
hood, is the account of a meeting between Paulinus and
Coifi, which took place in one of its green forests, in the
presence of Edwin, the Saxon king of Northumberland,
and his queen, Ethelburga. Paulinus, the Christian
missionary, spoke for Christianity; whilst Coifi, the
Saxon high-priest, defended Paganism. Coifi was con-
vinced; and mounting the king's charger, with a spear
in his hand, he rode to the principal temple, hurled his
spear into the image, sent it quivering to the ground,
whilst his followers broke down the wall, and set the
building on fire. Such, according to story, was the end
of Paganism in Northumbria.*
Leaving the Humber, we must round Spurn Head. Is
it a high or low promontory ? Here there used to stand a
town, Ravenspur. It was once so large that it sent mem-
bers to Parliament, and was the landing-place of Henry IV.
But it is all swept away and gone; the advancing waves
covering it. Other villages are gone or going.
Towards Bridlington, the clay cliffs cease and chalk
ones appear. These being harder, resist the sea better,
and so the land stretches out into the noble promontory of
Flamborough Head.t Bridlington is a pleasant, quiet bath-
ing place, with a church that once was almost as beautiful
as Beverley minster. Pleasant excursions may be taken
from Bridlington, in small boats round Flamborough Head.
Now shall we press onwards, or stop and listen to a
story about a good old Flamborough fisherman ? I think
you choose the story; but if not we will pass it over.
THE STORY OF JACK NORMIDALE, THE FISHERMAN.
Jack was a very poor man, and neither able to read nor
write, but he knew and loved the Lord Jesus Christ; and
this made him love his fellow-creatures.
Jack's wife was called Molly, and soon after they were
married, a poor fisherman was drowned, and his wife and
four children were left without anything to support them.
Jack said to the poor widow, "Come to my cabin, I'll
make a room ready for you, and you shall share the good
Page 10. t Page 36.
DEAR OLD ENGLAND.
of my bit of garden, and only pay your rent as you have
it." Molly took care of the children when Sally, the
widow, went out working. Her little boy was brought
up altogether at Jack's expense-fed, clothed, and sent to
school; and when he grew up, he bought him a boat and
tackle for fishing. Was the boy grateful to his good
friend ? No, I am sorry to say, no. He never seemed to
care for him at all. His sister Mary married a fisherman,
called William, and they had five little children. One
day William went out to sea, taking his dear son with
him. As they returned, a storm arose; the boat upset
when very near the land. Brave Jack plunged into the
sea, caught one of the drowning men, and pulled him to
the shore. He had hoped it might be William, but it was
his partner. Poor William and the boy were both drowned.
Again did Jack take the widow and her children to his
home; again did he adopt one of them, and he and Molly
cared for them as much as was in their power. The old
man shared his meals with the fatherless little girl, and
nursed her when she was sick. At last, old Molly died;
and her good old husband had scarcely sixpence in the
house to bury her. Who then helped? The widowed
Mary and her children, even little Mary, the adopted
child, gave a shilling that had been given her; and when
Jack would have been left quite alone, they took care of
him, and sought to make him comfortable. Jack is, no
doubt, dead now; but did he not gain the blessing spoken
of in the Bible, "Blessed is he that considereth the poor
and needy, the Lord will deliver him in the day of
Now, leaving this old fisherman, poor but rich, we will
proceed along the sea-shore of Yorkshire.
A little to the north of Flamborough Head, stands Scar-
borough. This place is called the Queen of English
Watering Places," the sands and scenery are so beautiful
and the visitors so many. There is a fine old church here
on the top of a steep cliff, and a castle, about which there are
several stories in the history of England. There are waters
also for invalids to drink, tasting of rusty nails and salt.*
The next place of consequence is Whitby, a most plea-
sant bathing-place. The scenery is beautiful, especially up
the little river Eske, which flows through a wooded valley,
and then widens to receive all the ships that trade with
Whitby, whilst the houses rise on the steep bank, appear-
ing to rest one on the top of another. It was from Whitby
that Captain Cook sailed, when he went all round the world.
Here are the remains of an ancient abbey, where a meet-
ing between the bishops of the ancient British churches, and
the bishops sent over in Gregory's time from Rome, was
Page 48. + Page 40.
DEAR OLD ENGLAND.
held. We must not forget that though the Saxons were
heathen, many of the ancient Britons had long before been
converted to Christianity.*
Whitby used to be a great place for the whale-fishery.
Mr Scoresby, whose son wrote some very interesting ac-
counts of the Polar Regions, brought back, in twenty-eight
voyages, 540 whales. It is now famous for its jet and alum
works, and beautiful fossils. The jet is found in small
pieces, from half an inch to two inches thick. It is cut
and polished. The ammonites, or snake-stones, being
polished too, are used with the jet foi ornaments, a very
small one being chosen for the middle of a brooch, or a
large one for the bottom of a candlestick.
Near Whitby have been found the bones of tremendously
large creatures, far larger than crocodiles, which may have
lived when God first bade the waters bring forth abund-
antly the large moving creatures which had life." The
alum works were commenced in the reign of Charles I. A
gentleman, who had travelled in Italy, observed that the
colour of the foliage was, on his estate in Yorkshire, the
same as in the alum districts in Italy. Such is the good of
using one's eyes. He determined to begin alum works;
but as the Pope did not wish that there should be any
alum works in the world except his own, the Yorkshire
knight was obliged to have the workmen hidden in
casks, or they could not have left Italy. Alum is a
kind of earth, very useful in dyeing, in hardening tallow
candles, and in preventing the wood or the paper soaked in
it from taking fire. It is also used as a medicine; and
often the bakers very improperly put it into their bread to
make it appear white.
Further north, very near the mouth of the Tees, is Red-
car, rather a dreary bathing-place. Now, when I tell you
that many of the fishermen's villages on this coast are like
clusters of martins' nests hanging to the high cliffs, and
that some of the scenery between Whitby and Pickering
is compared to that of Switzerland, I think you will have
heard enough about Yorkshire to wish to go and
travel there, if you do not already live in that great big
county. And perhaps this evening we may play at the
following Yorkshire game :-
THE GAME OF YORKSHIRE.
The children are seated round the room, and the teacher
in the centre is telling a story, or imagining that she is
shopping. The children each choose the name of a York-
shire town, and as the article characteristic of the place is
mentioned, the child turns round or pays a forfeit. Thus
Willie is Bradford; Amy, Leeds; Edith, Hull; Laura,
Wakefield; Cave, Whitby; Robin, Sheffield; Kate, Hud-
dersfield; Harriet, York; Charlotte, Batley; Arthur, Scar-
borough; and Algernon, Barnsley.
The teacher goes out a day's shopping with Edward and
Mary. First she goes to a clothier's, and buys cloth to
make Edward a jacket. Amy turns round for Leeds. She
gets a great coat for him of a coarser material. Charlotte
jumps up for Batley. Then the teacher goes to a linen
draper's and buys a stuff dress for Mary. Willie turns
round for Bradford. She also purchases a silk mohair, a
mixture of wool and silk, for herself. Now it is Kate's
turn for Huddersfield. Then she asks for table-cloths and
sheetings, upon which Algernon rises for Barnsley. Pass-
ing a print shop, she is struck with the view of a beauti-
ful cathedral (Harriet turns round for York,) and also sea-
pieces with grand towering rocks and foaming sea. Cave
and Arthur both jump up for Scarborough and Whitby.
Then a cutler's shop is entered, and Robin turns round;
DEAR OLD ENGLAND.
and then a fancy shop, where toys are bought, which have
come from Holland to a large seaport, Edith rises for
Hull; and jet ornaments are inquired for, on which Cave
again turns himself round for Whitby.
With fewer children, rivers might be taken instead of
places, and the river must give a turn as any town or place
of interest upon its banks is mentioned.
TO-DAY we will cross England and visit the western coast,
and you shall hear of Cumberland, one of the prettiest
counties in the whole of dear old England. Part of this
county, and part of Westmoreland, with a little bit of
Lancashire, form what is called the lake district. Cum-
berland is, you see, like Northumberland, a border county
touching Scotland on the north. What are the English
counties which join it ? The arm of the sea that runs up
between Scotland and Cumberland is called the Solway
Frith. When the tide is out, a quantity of sand is left
dry, and the water often has a whitish hue. The north
part of Cumberland is hilly, with large moorlands and
extensive peat-bogs, or mosses, as they are frequently
called. The mountains in the north-east are high and
massive, but not nearly so beautiful and picturesque
as those near the lakes. They are composed of a dif-
ferent kind of stone, called lime-stone, and are generally
covered with heath and furze bushes ; but the lake
mountains are chiefly formed of slate and granite,
which rise into steep and rugged heights. In one part
of Cumberland, the stone is of a reddish colour, so
the houses are nearly as red as if built of brick. You
seldom see tiled houses in Cumberland or Westmoreland.
Being a slate district, slates are the cheapest things with
which to roof the cottages.
The rivers in Cumberland are very pretty, clear, and
sparkling. They have generally rocky beds, over which
they foam and gurgle, and play and leap. There are also
beautiful cascades, or waterfalls, which rush down the
mountain sides. And then there are the lovely lakes,
sometimes sleeping calmly, with the mountains watch-
ing over them, and reflecting all the beautiful sky and
passing clouds of heaven; and sometimes becoming
stormy. Then the water grows dark, and waves rise,
and the bottom is stirred up, and the sky is no longer seen
in the water. I think our hearts are very like lakes--
when angry and passionate, with evil tempers stirred up,
they are like the stormy lake; but when they are gentle and
kind, when God's Spirit calms them with love, then heaven
is reflected, and Christ, heaven's best Sun, shines in them.
In Cumberland there is a great deal of rain, so the
farmers do not grow much corn or hay; but they keep a
great many cows and sheep, which feed on the beautiful
green pastures. The dairy-maids make excellent butter.
Turnips, which like rain very much, grow well in Cumber-
land. Along the rivers, there are a great many trees. The
trees are generally larger in Cumberland than in Northum-
berland, Durham, or Yorkshire, because the cold east wind
does not blow so much.*
Cumberland is chiefly inhabited by farmers. The people
are honest and industrious. They pronounce their words
strangely. Most of them work in the fields. The only
coal mines in the county are at Whitehaven and Working-
ton, and these extend under the sea.t Some of the people
work at the slate quarries, and others in manufactories at
Carlisle and different towns. Cumberland is a very
Pages 7, 23, 37. + Pages 20, 24, 29, 30, 51.
DEAR OLD ENGLAND.
healthy county, where people generally live a long time.
The country people are very simple in their habits.
Butchers' meat, poultry, fish, and vegetables, are cheap.
You have often heard of an eruption from a burning
mountain or volcano. Now I am going to tell you of an
eruption that happened in Cumberland about one hundred
years ago; but it was an eruption of mud, and not of fire-
black, not red-an eruption from a bog, not from a crater.
Amongst the mountains in the north of the county, was a
very large bog called Solway Moss. The earth was peat,
which is a sort of half-made coal, quite black, and used
for firing. It surrounded it, like a saucer keeping in the
water; but the people had cut it too near the bog. A
heavy rain, for three days, increased the quantity of water
very much, till, at length, it burst the shell of peat, and
came rushing down towards the plain. A farmer, who
lived near, heard that night an extraordinary noise. He
took out his lantern, and thought at first it was the
manure-heap in the farm-yard moving, he knew not how,
towards him. As soon as he found out his mistake, he
called on the neighbours to escape. Some of them did so;
others got on the roofs of their cottages, and there re-
mained till the morning, the black mud filling the rooms
below. The poor sheep and most of the cows were suffo-
cated. In one cow-house were eight cows. All were
killed but one, which, for two hours, stood up to the neck
in mud and water. When set free, it would eat, but
seemed horrified if offered water. After three days, the
bog had emptied itself, and that part of the hill which it
had filled had become a hollow, and the corn and grass over
which it flowed were all destroyed; but now the land is
covered again with fresh trees and herbage.
I can tell you another story about this Solway Moss.
There was in Henry VIII.'s reign a battle between the
English and Scotch, called the battle of the Solway. The
Scots were defeated, and fled. In their alarm, a troop of
five horses plunged into the Moss, which closed over them,
and they were seen no more. This story was for long
hardly believed; but a few labourers were some time since
di- -ii peat at the place where it was said this frightful
accident happened, and they dug out a man and his horse
There are eagles among the highest mountains of Cum-
berland; and I have heard, too, that wild cats inhabit
some of the wildest parts. Amongst other minerals that
are dug out of the earth, is the black lead of which the
pencils with which you draw are made. Common kinds,
such as the housemaid uses for the grates, occur in various
parts of the world, but the best black lead for pencils is
found in the valley of Borrowdale. Though it has the
name of black lead, it is not a species of lead at all. It is
very valuable, and for fear of robbery the men's clothes are
always searched before they leave the works. The mine
is occasionally closed for some years.
A good many fish are caught on the coast-salmon,
herrings, and others. Excellent cockles are found in the
Solway Frith, and on the wild moors, the same kind of
birds are caught as on the moors of Northumberland and
Durham. What ? Fresh-water fish, too, are found in the
lakes, such as trout, char, pike, &c.
To-morrow, I hope to tell you more of the towns and
beautiful places that are seen in the county of Cumber-
land, and will you try and remember about the moun-
tains, the castles, the people, the moving bog, and the
black-lead mine ?
THE chief river in Cumberland is the Eden. It enters the
DEAR OLD ENGLAND.
county from Westmoreland, and is joined by the Eamont,
which flows from the beautiful lake of Ulleswater, and
separates Cumberland from Westmoreland. Near Ulles-
water rises Helvellyn, the second highest mountain in
England. From its summit there is a splendid view; the
mountains lying around and beneath you, in the magnifi-
cent confusion that God's own hand has cast. A few hun-
dred feet below the top of Helvellyn is a little lake, called
Red Tarn. On one side is the Striding Edge, a ridge of
rocks, only six feet wide, with deep precipices on either
side. An unfortunate young traveller, Gough, once tried
to go this way, and fell. Three months passed before his
body could be found. At length it was discovered, and
beside it lay his faithful dog, still guarding his poor mas-
ter's corpse. Wordsworth, the poet, wrote these beautiful
lines about this good animal-
"This dog had been through three months' space
A dweller in that savage place ;
Yes, proof was plain, that since the day
On which the trav'ller thus had died,
The dog had watched about the spot,
Or by his master's side.
How nourished there, through such long time,
He knows, who gave that love sublime,
And gave that strength of feeling great,
Beyond all human estimate."
Ulleswater is, excepting Keswick, the most beautiful of
all English lakes, excepting Windermere, the largest, and,
excepting Wast-water, the deepest. The mountains, jutting
out on either side, appear almost to divide it into three parts,
and the beauty of the highest reach, or expanse, is very
great. Everything that is pretty is seen at Ulleswater;
towering mountains, rugged crags, foaming cataracts, soft
clear water, peaceful islands, wooded banks. A little to
the north of the lake is a beautiful waterfall, called Airey
Force.* A wooden bridge crosses it above, and another
below. The overhanging trees form arches over the stream,
and the water hurries thundering onwards to the deep pool
In the midst of all this splendid scenery are some fine
parks and old castles; and, following the Eamont a little
way we approach Penrith. Penrith means Red Hill;
perhaps it has this name from the houses having been
always built of the red sandstone, which abounds in the
neighbourhood.t The town stands in a valley, but there
are beautiful hills all round. From one of them, Beacon
Hill, where signal fires used once to be lighted, + there is a
splendidview; castles, parks, hills, UlleswaterLake, theriver
Eden, the massive mountain of Crossfell on one side, and
the varied heights of Helvellyn, Blencathara, and Skiddaw,
on the other. Near Penrith are Roman remains, the ruins
of the old castle, and giants' caves where strange stories are
told of the giant Isis. In the churchyard there are two very
old stone monuments, which are called "The Giant's Legs."
Following the Eden is Great Salkeld, where there are
some of the most wonderful remains of olden times, a
large Druidical circle. This is a collection of sixty-seven
enormous stones, placed in a circular form, and supposed
to have been a temple used by the Druids, before any
missionaries came to tell the poor Britons of the great
God and His Son Jesus Christ. These stones go by the
name of "Long Meg and her daughters." Long Meg is
very tall, eighteen feet high, and many of her daughters
measure ten feet, as high as sitting-rooms are usually.
The Eden receives several streams on the right, from hills
which form the part of England's back-bone between the
Pages 32, 42, 46. + Page 60. 4 Pages 16, 36.
DEAR OLD ENCLAND.
Cheviots and the Yorkshire mountains.* The highest of
these is Crossfell; and from a swamp on its eastern side,
the Tyne and Tees flow.t On the top of Crossfell the
clouds and the winds blow in a very peculiar manner.
They are called Helm, because the clouds assume a
helmet-shape. They look very dark and awful, and spread
a shadow almost like the approach of night. The dark-
ness is all in the east; in the west, the sky is probably
clear and the mountains distinct. The dark helmet-
shaped cloud rises from the mountain-top, and another
cloud spreads itself across like a bar, leaving a space
between of clear sky. From this there rushes a very
strong wind, which sometimes overthrows waggons, and
scatters stacks of corn and hay. Sometimes it lasts for
a few hours, or sometimes for a few days. Tt cannot be
pleasant, but it is said to be very healthy; and, perhaps,
the purity of the air which it causes is one reason why
the inhabitants of Cumberland live so long. These strange
tumults in the air, when the reason of them could not be
explained, gave rise to curious superstitions. The moun-
tain was thought to be inhabited by demons, and was
called Fiend-fell. St Cuthbert said he would expel them,
and he planted the cross on the highest point. The
demons then took flight, with all their goods; but in the
hurry of their departure they dropped a golden cradle
into a tarn on Saddleback. This cradle is sometimes
seen, but it cannot be fished out! Can you guess what
it is ? The reflection of the crescent moon at mid-day,
which, in certain states of the weather, may be observed.
From this legend the hill received the name of Cross-fell.
The Eden continues flowing north till it reaches Wetheral,
passing beneath the walls of its quiet churchyard. Oppo-
site are the woods of Corby; and on the Wetheral side are
Pages 15, 35. + Pages 18, 32.
steep banks covered with trees, and rocks containing
caverns, used in former days for hiding treasure. The
mouths of the eaves are in the face of perpendicular rocks
overgrown with ivy. Men who wished to enter them were
lowered by ropes from above, and the enemy could not
discover so well-concealed a hiding-place.
Below Wetheral, the Eden is joined by the Irthing,
parallel to which the Picts' wall was built.* On its banks
stand Naworth Castle and Lanercost Priory. The former
is a strange old castle, where there lived, in Queen
Elizabeth's time, "Belted Will," in other words, Lord
William Howard, the terror of the border robbers.t He had
a snug little library up a steep narrow staircase, where,
when at study, he did not like to be disturbed. Once,
a servant came to tell him that a prisoner had been
brought in. Belted Will answered crossly, Hang him."
When he had finished his study, he ordered that the man
should be brought for examination, but was told that his
orders had been obeyed. The poor man was already
hung, and thus a hasty word was the death of a fellow-
creature. The old priory at Lanercost is in ruins now,
but part of it is preserved and used as a church. It is
a good change when old monasteries are turned into
churches. The towers of several of the old churches
in Cumberland have been used for defence against the
Scotch, and have, no doubt, been places of retreat for the
women and children who inhabited the villages. Near
a little river, the Gelt, that runs into the Irthing, is a
hill, called the Written Mountain. The face of the rock
is covered with inscriptions, carved by the Romans. They
are, however, so high, that you must use a telescope to
read them. This is a very old custom. In the desert of
Sinai, in Arabia, is a valley, called the Written Valley."
Page 19. t Page 9.
DEAR OLD ENGLAND.
There the steep rocks on each side are covered with writ-
ings, so numerous, and so ancient, that they are supposed
to have been carved by the Israelites during the forty years
of their wanderings.
A little lower down the Eden is Carlisle, the chief town
of the county, which often goes by the name of Merry
Carlisle." The cathedral, built of red sandstone, is not
nearly so large as those of York and Durham. Milner,
who wrote a history of the Church, was dean of this
cathedral some time ago. Not far distant is the castle,
which was built by William Rufus. The Scotch and Eng-
lish have often fought for this strong fortress. Not much.
more than one hundred years since, it was besieged by
Prince Charles, called the Pretender, a grandson of James
II. He took it after three days' fighting; and when he
marched back to Scotland, left there most of the English-
men who had followed him. Soon afterwards, the army
of the king, George II., besieged it again, and made
prisoners its 400 unfortunate inhabitants, many of whom
were beheaded. In Carlisle are dye-works, and manufac-
tories for ginghams, for woollen goods, for whips, and fish-
hooks, but perhaps the most famous is Carr's, for making
biscuits by steam. The dough is cut, and kneaded, and
beaten, by this wonderful power. Here another little
river joins the Eden from the south, passing Dalston,
where, also, there are manufactories.. After leaving Car-
lisle, no other place of importance marks the Eden till it
enters the Solway Frith.
WE must leave several old castles and Druidical circles,
which are found in the north of Cumberland, and hear
something of its seaports.
The first town of note on the coast is Maryport, a busy,
flourishing place, which, about one hundred years ago, was
only a collection of a few small huts.* Now ships come
and go, bringing timber from America, and flax from Ire-
land, and taking away coal, limestone, and red sandstone.t
Once a great Roman encampment stood here, intended,
no doubt, to keep away the Picts and Scots, who might
land either from Ireland or Scotland. j Further south, at
the mouth of the Derwent, is Workington, where there is
a good deal of trade and ship-building, and where there
are some of the sub-marine, or under-the-sea, coal mines.
To track the Derwent from its source will bring us
through the midst of the lake district, so now let there be
great attention, and you shall hear more of the wonders
and beauties of the Cumberland mountains, lakes, and
The lake hills do not form part of the backbone, or Pen-
nine Chain of England. They stretch from the Eden in
Westmoreland very nearly as far as the Irish Sea, and form
parts of Cumberland, Westmoreland, and Lancashire. They
are principally composed of slate; but there are also
among them granite and other very old rocks. They are
far older than the Alps, and indeed are amongst the oldest
hills in the world.
The Derwent rises in Sea-fell, the highest hill in Eng-
land. It is 3166 feet, or more than half a mile in height
-far above the clouds. On the top there is a great heap
of stones and wood. These piles, which are seen on the
summit of every hill, are, in Cumberland, called "Men."
Climbing to the top of Sea-fell Pikes is a work of great
labour, but when there, if the day be clear, one has a
most beautiful view, -all the west coast from Anglesea, in
Page 40. + Pages 60, 61.
+ Pages 19, 31. Pages 40, 64.
DEAR OLD ENGLAND.
Wales, to the Mull of Galloway, in Scotland.-far across
the sea, the soft blue hills of the Isle of Man; and should
the day be remarkably clear, the very distant outline of
the Irish coast. The top of the mountain is bare rock,
with a few tufts of moss between the huge stones. No
sheep browse there, no bird flies there; no sound breaks
there. You are above all the surrounding earth; but far
above is the heaven, where God especially dwells, and
trusting and loving God, His children may raise to Him
the eye which has been gazing around, and with thankful,
joyful hearts, may say, My Father made it all."
In this mountain is a wonderful pass called Sty Head,
where the voice echoes from'rock to rock. One side is
called Great Gable, and the other Great End. A little stream
passes through the grand and awe-striking valley of Bor-
rowdale. It has been described as the finest imaginable
assemblage of rocks and rocky hills, all wildly wooded."
The rocks hang overhead, and appear ready to fall down
and crush you in a moment. Here, during the wars of the
Roses, was concealed the Shepherd Lord Clifford, of whom
I told you in Yorkshire. He lived here for twenty-four
years, had no opportunity of learning to read or write, and
grew up hard and savage as the rocks.* In Borrowdale is
the famous mine for black lead. The mineral is not found
in veins like copper, but in lumps, which sometimes weigh
a few ounces and sometimes fifty pounds. Their shape is
that of a tree, the trunk being usually of a much better
quality than the branches. The Derwent now passes the
largest stone in England, called the Bowder-stone. It is
an immense block, like a "stranded ship with keel up-
turned." There is a ladder to ascend it, and from the top
you have a beautiful view. It must, in ages past, have
rolled down from the steep hills above. Just before the
Derwent river enters Derwent-water, or Keswick-lake, is
Grange, near which is a fish-nursery, where little trout
and char are born and fed. They do not grow nearly so
quickly as kittens or sparrows.' On the right of the lake
is the cataract of Lodore, not rolling in one stupendous
fall, but leaping and foaming over a number of projecting
rocks.* Southey has written a curious poem about it,
which all children like to read. Just now you must be
content to hear a very little bit-
Here it comes sparkling,
And there it lies darkling ;
Here smoking and frothing,
Its tumult and wrath in.
"It hastens along, conflicting, strong,
Now striking and raging,
As if a war waging,
The caverns and rocks among."
Derwent-water is a lovely lake, studded with islands,
which look like gems set in the clear silvery water. It is
the shallowest of the lakes, and sometimes the surface
is rough when not a breath of wind blows. Amongst its
islands is one covered with reeds and water-plants, called
the Floating Island. It sometimes rises to the surface,
and sometimes sinks to the bottom. Probably both these
strange phenomena, for such we call things in nature not
easily explained, are caused by the expansion of gases
* below the water as they rise to the surface.t
Near Derwent-water, lovelily situated, is Keswick, shel-
tered by the lofty Skiddaw from the north. Here is a
manufactory for black-lead pencils; and in the Town
Hall a beautiful model of the lake district.
After leaving the lake, the Derwent receives the little
river Greta, which passes through the lake of Thirlsmere,
and a lovely valley called St John's Vale, where is a rock,
which, from the time of King Arthur, has been continually
mistaken for a castle. Thirlsmere, a very narrow lake, is
Pages 32, 42, 46, 64. + Page 30.
DEAR OLD ENGLAND.
in the midst of mountains,-Helvellyn rising from its
waters, and the "Eagle's Crag," and other grand preci-
pices frowning darkly over it. A wooden bridge crosses
the narrow centre of the lake. From a tarn in Blen-
cathara, probably the one of the Golden Cradle, the
Greta receives another stream.* Blencathara is also
called Saddleback, on account of its shape. Adjoining
it is Skiddaw, the third mountain in height, a splendid-
looking hill; standing more by itself than either Sea-
fell or Helvellyn, it seems like a monarch among the
rest. Skiddaw Forest is at the foot of the mount. Do
not you imagine it full of trees ? There is not one; it is
a bleak uncultivated plain. The Derwent next enters
Bassenthwaite Water, surrounded by beautifully-wooded
banks. Mountains tower one above another on the south
side; but towards the north-west the great hills cease,
and the Derwent flows on through a comparatively plain
country, passing low hills made of fossil shells, to Cocker-
mouth, where it is joined by the Cocker. Cockermouth is
a busy little place, with various manufactures. It has a
ruined castle, beautifully situated, overhanging the junc-
tion of the rivers, and is noted as the birthplace of
Wordsworth the poet.t Let us now seek the source of the
It rises close to Honister Crag, a rampart of almost per-
pendicular rock, 1580 feet high. $ How many steps are there
to the top of this house ? Find that out before to-morrow,
and then, if we reckon one step to a foot, we shall have an
idea of the height of this crag. The little stream soon
enters Buttermere, a small lake, surrounded by such grand
and steep mountains, that you would feel it almost awful
to wander there alone. Still it is very beautiful to see the
steep rocky crags, and the quiet peaceful lake, and to re-
member that it is made by the great God, who cares so
Page 66. t Pages 48, 64. Page 35.
much for us. The sight of the little churches in the lovely
valleys is here peculiarly pleasant. Crummock-water,
with three islands near the head of it, is also very beauti-
ful, being surrounded by splendid mountains.
Over these heights are waterfalls. One has a strange
name, Sour-milk Force. Another,' Scale Force, is the
deepest in Cumberland, 156 feet. Fancy three or four
three-storied houses, placed one on the top of another, and
you will have an idea of the height from which the water
falls. It is a grand sight, after much rain, to see the
angry torrent of water, come splashing and dashing fri-
DEAR OLD ENGLAND.
ously from the hill into the valley; the dark hue of the
steep grand rocks on either side contrasting with the
water's white foam.
These lakes are all famous for their fish, especially
char, a kind of trout generally caught in nets. No particu-
lar place marks the Derwent between Cockermouth and
Further south is Whitehaven, with coal mines like those
at Workington. The entrances to these mines are called
"Bear Mouths." They open at the bottom of a hill, and you
pass through steep passages to the galleries, where, far below
the sea, the men work the coal. The great danger used to
be fire-damp; but the safety lamps that are now used
preserve the miners from many accidents.*
Beyond Whitehaven is St Bees' Head, a prominent red-
sandstone cape. Here there is a college to prepare young
men for being clergymen.
Further south, is the mouth of another little river, the
Ehen, which may be traced to Enerdale Water, with its
wild and savage banks. This lake has no wooded islands,
nor beautiful trees, nor magnificent mountains; but the
whole scenery is stern and lonely, but beautiful even in
its lonely wildness. On the Ehen stands Egremont, with
an ancient castle on a height, and old houses fronted with -
piazzas. Egremont has grown small, whilst Whitehaven
has grown large. Do you remember anything of the Boy
of Egremont ?
The next little river is the Calder, on which are the
ruins of the ivy-covered Calder Abbey; and in its neigh-
bourhood is a hill called Wo-to-bank." Would you like
to know the story which accounts for this strange name ?
In the days when wolves and bears prowled in England,
a nobleman was out hunting with his wife and servants.
Pages 26, 51.
Suddenly the lady was missed. She was sought for, and
soon discovered slain by a wolf, which was in the very act
of tearing her. to pieces. The husband beheld the scene
in agony, and in his grief exclaimed, "Woe to this bank!"
"' Woe to this bank !' the attendants echoed round,
And pitying shepherds caught the grief-fraught sound."
And to this day, Wo-to-bank has been the name of that
fair green hill.
The last little river I will mention is the Irt, which
flows through Wast-water, the deepest of the Cumberland
lakes, whose waters have never been known to freeze. It
is surrounded by very high and grand mountains.
Will you try and remember the names of the Cumber-
land Lakes ?
Ulles-water, with its three beautiful reaches. P. 64.
Derwent-water, with its floating island. P. 71.
Bassenthwaite-water, with its high wooded banks. P. 72.
Buttermere, with its steep rocky shores. P. 72.
Crummock-water, with its three islands and its water-
falls. P. 73.
Enerdale Lake, wild and desolate; and
Wast-water, so deep that it never freezes. Pp. 74, 75.
And now we must leave beautiful Cumberland; but
only to enter a little county of equal interest-Westmore-
In rehearsing Cumberland, each child might relate a
story that he has heard.
For instance, Charles might tell of the moving of Solway
bog, and Arthur the story of Carlisle Castle, and Willie of
Naworth Castle and Belted Will. Amy might tell about
the Helm wind, and Laura about the unfortunate traveller
DEAR OLD ENGLAND.
and his faithful dog, whilst little Frankie might relate
the sad story of Wo-to-bank."
Or again, Willie might suppose that he lived in the time
of the Romans. Then he might see the carving of the
inscriptions on the written mountain, the building of the
Picts' Wall, the great encampment near Maryport, or the
red sand-stone buildings near Penrith. Even as an ancient
Roman, he might stop and wonder at the Druidical re-
mains, at the Giant Isis' Cave and the Giant's Legs in the
churchyard at Penrith, taking note of the wolves at Wo-
to-bank. Then Charles might live in the middle ages, and
mark the struggles between the Scotch and English, the
sieges of Carlisle Castle, the attacks on the villages, and
the unprotected people taking shelter in the towers of the
churches, describe an attack on Naworth, and Belted Will's
exploits, or on Corby and the hiding of the treasure in the
caves of Wetheral. Amy might think of the monasteries
built at the same time, Lanercost Priory, Calder Abbey,
and not forget the young Lord Clifford in savage Borrow-
dale. Arthur might be the traveller of the present century,
and describe the present state of the principal towns, such
as Carlisle, Whitehaven, Penrith, Keswick, Maryport, &c.,
visiting the cathedral and manufactories in Carlisle, the
coal-pits at Whitehaven, the lead-mine at Borrowdale, the /
slate quarries amongst the mountains, and the college at
The tour of the lakes might be deferred till the re-
mainder of the lake country is described.
THIS is one of the smallest counties of England, and the
only one of the six northern counties that is an inland one.
Tell me the counties that border on it. Though an inland
county, one little corner of Westmoreland touches this arm
of the sea, Morecambe Bay, where there is a small seaport,
Westmoreland is a county that is very full of lakes and
mountains. So much of the surface being mountainous
a great deal of the ground is uncultivated, not divided into
fields, and never cut by the ploughshare. You frequently
meet with huge masses of stone on the low hills, and even
in the plain country. There is not much corn grown in
Westmoreland, but turnips, clover, hay, and, near Kendal,
a great many potatoes. During summer, the farmers can
keep a quantity of cattle on the hill-sides and moorlands;
so what they chiefly want are hay or turnips with which
to feed them during winter. A great many cows are kept
in this county; but butter, not cheese, is made from their
milk, the butter being sent to Liverpool, Manchester, or
London, for sale.* The sheep that feed on the mountains
have horns, dark-gray faces, and thick hairy wool.t There
are also a great many pigs, the bacon of which is packed
in hogsheads and exported. In some parts of Westmore-
land, a great deal of young wood is grown. The trees are
cut down when about sixteen years old, and made into
hoops for barrels and tubs, and for what else ? For little
children to play with ? I suppose so. I The tree that
grows best in Westmoreland is the larch, a kind of fir-tree.
A great many fish are found in the rivers and lakes like
those found in Cumberland. In Lake Windermere Is
what is called the gray trout, a very large fish which some-
times weighs two stone.
There is hardly any coal found in Westmoreland, and
in many parts the cottagers have peat for their fires. Peat
is found generally in boggy moors. It is a black kind of
Page 61. + Pages 15, 37. $ Page 37. Page 63.
DEAR OLD ENGLAND.
ear th, a sort of half-made coal. It is cut out of the bogs,
dried, and packed in stacks, and the square pieces into
which it is cut are laid on the fire as we place coal.*
In Westmoreland there are many slates found, of dif-
ferent shades of hue, some greenish, and others almost
black. The latter are the school-room slates. There has
also been discovered a great deal of beautiful marble; one
kind is white veined with red, another a dull green veined
with white, and another, black. Copper, lead, and iron
are also found. The people in this county are principally
agriculturists. The women used to be much employed in
knitting stockings. There are very few manufactories; but
at Kendal a good deal of coarse woollen cloth is made.
Some of the people are employed in making hoops, or in
burning charcoal for the ironworks, in tanning leather, or
in cutting slates in the quarries.
In Westmoreland, people have still a great many old-
fashioned customs. Both men and women wear, in winter,
clogs, shoes with wooden soles. These are very noisy, but
keep the feet free from wet and dirt. They often make
oaten cakes, which they call haver-bread.t Would you like
to hear the story of a little cottage girl, who lived on one
of the Westmoreland mountains ?
THE STORY OF AGNES GREEN AND THE SNOW-STORM.
Many years have now passed since six little children sat
round a peat fire in a little cottage at Blantern Ghyll.
Their parents were gone to Langdale, but they had in-
tendjd soon to return home. The snow was falling heavily,
very heavily; but still the little ones watched and listened
-they listened and watched. Night came on; but no
parents returned. Then little Agnes, who was only nine
years old, grew very sad; she, however, put the younger
Page 62. t Page 8.
ones to bed, and soon they all lay down and slept.
When they woke in the morning, it seemed as if the light
was never coming. They were in a snow prison. Their
little cottage was buried in the snow. No father, nor
mother, nor friend could reach them now. Poor little
Agnes bade her brothers and sisters pray, and they all
knelt down and asked God to care for them. Then Agnes
was as a mother to the little ones. See dressed them in
the morning, and when night came she sang them to sleep.
She made them porridge with some oatmeal, and baked
cakes on the "girdle with flour that she found. At one
side of the house, the wind must have blown the snow
away; and so she was able to go into the yard for peat, and
to go to the byre to milk the cow. She climbed, too, into
the hay loft, and with a great deal of difficulty, pushed
down the hay, that the good cow might not starve. An-
other day passed; and though Agnes kept awake till mid-
night, she could not hear any sound or any cry for help.
At last the snow ceased; the weather changed, and after
a little while Agnes was able to go to the nearest cottage,
and tell how sad they were without their dear parents, but
also how safely God had kept the little ones. They sought
the poor, lost parents, and at last they found them, cold,
and stiff, and dead, all covered with the snow.
Dear orphan children! God watched over them. He
put it into the hearts of people to be kind to them; and
they were taken from their solitary little cottage to a com-
Now, I will ask you a question that has already been
put to other children : "What would you have done, had
you been in the place of Agnes Green ? Would you have
known what to do with the milk and meal and corn and
hay ? Or would you have sat down and cried, and been
cross to the little ones and forgotten to pray ?"
DEAR OLD ENGLAND.
THE Eden, which we traced in Cumberland, rises in the
great mountains which separate Westmoreland from York-
shire. It flows through a wild moorland country, passing
Kirby-Stephen, Brough, and other pretty mountain-towns,
and then reaches Appleby, a very small place, though the
county town of Westmoreland. Formerly it was of conse-
quence, and is prettily situated, the castle standing on the
top of a hill, the church at the other end of the town, and
the clear waters of the Eden flowing nearly all round it
During the terrible Border wars in olden times, Appleby
Castle was twice destroyed. It never recovered the de-
vastation it suffered from the Scotch in Richard II.'s reign ;*
and in Queen Elizabeth's time it was visited by a plague,
in which most of the inhabitants perished. There is an
hospital here for thirteen aged widows. Their tidy
cottages form a square, and they have a neat little chapel
The country south of Ulleswater, which separates West-
moreland from Cumberland, is very fine. There are beau-
tiful dales; one much admired is called Patterdale. Then
there are deep coves, with clear streams hastening from
their dark shades. A beautiful little lake has the name of
Brothers' Water; for it twice happened that there two
brothers were drowned together. A rivulet, the Eamont
received from the south, flows through Hawes Water;
whose eastern shore is thickly wooded, and its western
surmounted by a rugged cliff, called Wallow Crag. The
Lowther passes through beautiful parks, Lowther Park
and Brougham Castle.
Now we must look for the little streams running, south,
Pages 9, 67, 68.
The first of which I tell you, passes through, perhaps,
the most beautiful of all the beautiful scenery. It runs
through the lakes of Grasmere and Rydal Water, small
but very lovely. Behind the town of Grasmere rises a
curiously-shaped rocky mountain, called Helm Crag, look-
ing like an old ruin on the top of a hill, or, as Wordsworth
fancied, like an ancient woman and an old astrologer
sitting there in spite of wind and weather." Near Rydal
is the house where Wordsworth lived.* Only a few years
ago, several famous poets, Wordsworth, Coleridge, Southey,
Wilson, used to spend a part or the whole of the year in
this beautiful neighbourhood. They have all passed away
now; but the glens, and lakes, and mountains, where they
loved to ramble, still remain. The Rydal waterfalls are
DEAR OLD ENGLAND.
very famous, and grand to behold. Ambleside stands
where the Rothsay enters the splendid lake of Winder-
mere, which is eleven miles long and one or two wide,
and the largest of all the English lakes. It is studded
with thirteen islands, which are generally wooded. The
banks of the lake are covered with trees and cottages.
The grand mountains lying beyond these are often capped
with clouds. Near Ambleside is a beautiful waterfall,
called Stock Gill Force. It rushes down a narrow ravine
overhung with wood, taking, as it were, four bounds over
its rugged rocky bed.* The large stones in the stream
are covered with dark-green moss, and the rocks, at the
side, are full of little caves, hidden by the interlaced roots
of trees. The stream rises below Kirkstone pass, a very
high road crossing a mountain between Windermere and
Ulleswater. Near the top of it is a small inn, on which
is written, This is the highest inhabited house in Eng-
land." I think we should like better to see it than to
live in it, for high lands are always cold lands. East of
Lake Windermere is Troutbeck Valley, a wild district,
through which a little stream passes. There are strange
stories about this vale. One is, that there lived here a
giant who used to eat a sheep at one meal; and the
people talk about the 300 bulls, the 300 bridges, and the
300 constables of Troutbeck. This sounds very strange;
but the meaning is, the parish being divided into three
parts, called hundreds, each part had a bull, a bridge, a
constable, so all the difference between three and three
hundred, lies in the apostrophe ('s.) Bowness, further
south, is, like Ambleside, a pretty village on the lake, filled
during the summer with tourists. Many skiffs are on the
water, in which it is pleasant to row, with the bright sky
Pages 32, 42, 46, 64, 70, 72.
above, and the clear waters below. The south part of
Windermere belongs to Lancashire.
The next little river is the Ken, which rises in Kentmere
Tarn, below a very high mountain, called High Street.
The Romans made a road, which crossed it almost at its
summit. They called roads streets, and so the mountain
has that name to the present day. In Kentmere Vale,
Bernard Gilpin, the good vicar of Houghton-le-Spring, was
born.* Kendal, past which the Ken flows, is the largest
town in Westmoreland. It is beautifully situated, with
an old castle, where Queen Catherine Parr, the last of
Henry the Eighth's six wives, was born. It is pleasant to
stand there, looking on the town and valley below, and
viewing the beautiful hills around. The old church is a
very large one, with five aisles. In it there is the follow-
ing curious epitaph on the tombstone of a vicar, who died
more than two hundred years ago :-
"London bredd me, Westminster fedd me;
Cambridge spedd me, My sister wedd me;
Study taught me, Kendal caught me;
Labour pressed me, Sickness distressed me;
Death oppressed me, The grave possessed me;
God first gave me, Christ did save me;
Earth did crave me, Heaven would have me."
In the town is a museum, where there is an old brass
clock, one of the first ever made with a pendulum. Two
hundred years ago, the mayor presented it to the town for
the use of his successors. It has this inscription, which
we should always try to remember:-
"Time runneth:-Your work is before you."
At the mouth of the Ken is Milnthorpe, the only comrn-
DEAR OLD ENGLAND.
mercial town in Westmoreland. In the extreme east of
Westmoreland is the Lune. On it stands Kirkby Lonsdale,
a well-built town, standing in a lovely valley. The church
is very ancient and handsome; and, from the churchyard,
there is a magnificent view. Near it, there is a school for
the daughters of clergymen. Many places, especially in
the north of England, have the name of Kirkby.* Kirk
means a church; so Kirkby Lonsdale means church in the
dale of the Lon or Lone.
Now we must leave pretty little Westmoreland, but we
shall yet, in the north of Lancashire, hear something more
of lakes and mountains.
Westmoreland might be reviewed on any of the previous
plans suggested; or the teacher might pass over to page
88, and taking the north of Lancashire, finish the lake dis-
trict. Then the pupils, if old enough, might each write a
little tour of the lakes, either in the form of a journal or of
letters. They might choose for themselves, whether the
journey should be on foot, on horseback, or in a carriage,
and they might amuse themselves by interspersing charac-
teristic imaginary adventures. Or, again, a description
might be given of the lake scenery, one child selecting the
mountains, another the lakes, another the towns, another
following the Eden, or another the Derwent.
Such exercises would impress the scenes strongly on the
memory, besides exercising various powers of composition,
WE have now reached the last of the six northern coun-
ties,-busy, -manufacturing Lancashire.
We must, however, first hear what the county is like,
Pages 53, 80. 1
the good things that God has wrought by the hand of
nature, and then what He has wrought by the hands of
It is a county that borders on the Irish Sea, forming
part of the west coast of England. It is not an even shore,
like that of the eastern counties; but it is full of deep
bays.* The principal are Morecambe Bay in the north, the
mouth of the Ribble in the centre, and the mouth of the
Mersey in the south. The coast is very flat and sandy
towards the south-west.. In the north is Walney Island,
long and narrow, but only inhabited by great numbers of
sea-gulls.t North of the Ribble, is a tract which is fer-
tile; whilst north of Morecambe Bay, is, as I hope you
remember, a portion of the lake district. In the east
of Lancashire, near Yorkshire, we find again the backbone
of England. I
Lancashire is not a cold county, but the weather is often
very rainy. Corn and turnips are both grown in Lanca-
shire, but it is chiefly famous for potatoes. There are very
large peat mosses in this county; one, called Chat Moss,
not far from Manchester, is five miles long and three broad,
about twelve yards deep, and overgrown with coarse
grass. A good deal of coal is found in the south,
which is very valuable for the many manufactories.
Good stone is quarried for building houses, and slate for
roofing them is found in the mountains. Near Wigan is
obtained what is called cannel, or candle-coal If you put
a flamhe to it, it takes fire at once. It can be polished like
jet, and you may take hold of it in your fingers, and not
dirty them in the least. Sometimes it is made into snuff-
boxes and candlesticks. 1
The manufactures of Lancashire are, however, what
Page 3. + Page 18. 4 Pages 35, 65.
Pages 62, 77. 11 Page 58.