Sarah Murray

A Companion and Useful Guide to the Beauties of Scotland


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at the base of the huge mountain, 3700 feet above the level of the sea, called Ingleborough; this mountain is, by some calculations, reckoned to be 3987 feet, and its base to be in circumference between 20 and 30 miles. Just at the entrance to the town are two torrents, as Mr. Gray writes, "with great stones rolling along their beds instead of water;" and over them are thrown two handsome arches. There are numbers of natural curiosities within a short distance of Ingleton, which may be seen with ease, if you have time ​to stay a few days at that village. Upon no account miss the sight of Weathercoate Cove or Cave, if it be not too full of water. Weathercoate Cove is not above a hundred yards out of the turnpike road from Ingleton to Askrigg and Richmond. In this cave, which is deep, is a surprising grand waterfall, the effect of it is astonishing to those who have courage to get at it; but it cannot be described to be perfectly understood. Douk Cove, somewhat similar to Weathercoate Cove, lies on the other side of the turnpike road, about a mile towards the foot of Ingleborough.

      At Ingleton are fine slate quarries.

      In the neighbourhood of Thornton Churchstile, 6 miles from Kirbylonsdale, are Yordas Cove, Thornton Force, and falls at the head of the river. I believe there is no carriage road to these places.

      From Ingleton to Chapel-in-the-Dale, 4 miles; where you will be informed of Hurtlepot Cove, Ginglepot Cove, and Weathercoate Cove.

      From Chapel-in-the-Dale, by Horton, to Settle, is 10 miles; but I think not a carriage road. At Horton are many curiosities. On the road to the right is a curious stone quarry. At Stainforth, two waterfalls of the river Ribble. The Vale of ​Horton is so shaded from the sun, and so cold, nothing ripens in it, not even potatoes. It consists of sheep farms, and I was told at Settle, that notwithstanding the dreadful climate of Hortondale, there are, many farmers living in it possessing from two to three hundred pounds a year.

      From Ingleton to Settle, by the turnpike road, is 10 miles: that drive is delightful, from the great variety of mountains, wood, crags, and water. The town of Clapham is charmingly situated, and the Clapham Scars are fine; but Crowness Scars, on the left in ascending the mountain before the descent to Settle, are very singular, and particularly grand; being, as it were, a long range of fine castles in ruins, with Gothic gateways, pillars, &c. Just after Crowness Scars, and a short distance from Settle, are the magnificent Giggleswick Scars, under which, close on the road's side, is the well which ebbs and flows.

      The situation of Settle is under vast mountains and crags. A whitish rock, like towers, called Castleber rises almost perpendicularity from the houses at the back of the town; it has zig-zag walks made up it, and from the top is an extensive view over Ribblesdale: this rock is walled round to prevent ​cattle or man from injuring it; it now belongs to the town of Settle. The river which runs by Settle is the Ribble. The bed-rooms at the inn are but middling: the parlour is very good, and the Fausets, who kept it in 1796, were very civil, accommodating, intelligent people.

      The distance, over the moors and mountains, from Settle to Gordale, is 6 miles.

      From Settle to Skipton, by Gordale, the carriage road, is 24 miles. By all means take this round to see, in Gordale Scar, one of the most astonishing, as well as one of the most terrific effects, that can be produced by rocks and felling water, particularly if you should turn round the point of the rock into the hollow, (as I did) in a storm of hail, rain, sleet, and snow, accompanied by a boisterous wind. I took shelter under the bend of the rocks, and the sun shone before I quitted the Scar; but, every step being rendered extremely slippery, it was impossible for me to clamber up the sides of the falls, I therefore lost the grandest effect of the scene. When I approached the Scar I was struck with what I had never seen before, the appearance of a bright buff-coloured waterfall, and a rivulet of the same tint flowing ​from it. The water is as clear as crystal, but tinges of a buff colour the rocks and stones it rolls over.

      Close by a small cave below Gordale Scar, is a low waterfall; the trees hanging over it, and the scenery about it, are very picturesque, but on a small scale. At the approach to Gordale Scar, for a quarter of a mile, springs rise at every ten steps.

      The alehouse at the village of Maum affords no entertainment for man, and but little for horses: the people too are the most stupid I ever met with, I could procure no information; and it was with difficulty I got a guide, who at last was only a lout of a boy, who could just lead the way to the left, a mile to Gordale Scar; and to the right afterwards, half a mile, to Maum Tor.

      Maum Tor is a prodigious pile of rock, shelf upon shelf, rising perpendicularly to an amazing height, at least a hundred yards. Its breadth may be from fifty to eighty yards. From the top, slopes down on each side, a rugged moor. The top itself is a wild moor, full of bogs. In hard rains a cataract tumbles from the top to the bottom of ​this mass of rock, which, at all times, is in a drizzling state: small shrubs hang about the projections of the rocks in every direction; moss, and the yellow and green tints of time and weather, also give a degree of softness to the rugged pile. The greatest curiosity I saw at Maum Tor was, the river issuing at the bottom of the rock; there is not the smallest space between the surface of the water and the solid rock. The breadth of this river, as it glides from the pile of rocks, may be, as far as I could judge by my eye, not less than forty feet; it issues perfectly level, and runs off in the small hollow to the village of Maum, from whence it flows on to Leeds, &c.; its banks, and the moor just around the Tor, are ornamented with scattered birch, and mountain ash trees. In advancing to Maum Tor, I found springs rising at almost every step I took. The river at Maum Tor is the Air, and has its source from a lake near Penegent Hill; but how it gets under Maum Tor, I cannot tell. The carriage road down to the village of Maum is very bad for horses; it would be, for that reason, more advisable for those who travel with their own horses, to send them on the straight road to Skipton, 16 miles, and hire post-horses, ​which are used to the road, to take them round by Gordale.

      At Skipton is a very neat inn, near the ancient castle of Skipton. This town is situated in a beautiful part of Craven. Between Skipton and Leeds the river Air winds lovely in the vale.

      Wharfedale is well worth visiting, which you may do by going to Otley. You may then turn to the east, and take a view of Studley Park, Fountains Abbey, Hackfall, Harewood, Harrogate, York, &c.

      My road lay from Skipton to Keighley, 10 miles; a charming drive through Craven, and very good road.

      From Keighley to Halifax, 12 miles; a very bad road; hilly and dreary to a great degree.

      Halifax is a large and dirty manufacturing town, most beautifully situated amongst mountains, woods, and rivers.

      The Halifax innkeepers follow the example of their neighbours in Lancashire, and charge three-pence per mile more, for post-horses, than in the other parts of Yorkshire.

      From Halifax to Rochdale, over Blackstone Edge (a ridge of mountains so called), 16 miles, ​of very hilly bad road. There is, I was told, a beautiful road, somewhat farther about, through some dale, and not over Blackstone Edge, that, if it had not been near winter, I should certainly have taken.

      There are no very great beauties in Rochdale; and the town (most part of it) is very dirty, and the streets very narrow: but, from experience, I know some of the inhabitants to be very kind, hospitable, and truly friendly; and besides, the Rochdale women are in general handsome. Avoid passing through Rochdale on Mondays, it is market-day; and you may be detained in the street, without being able to pass through the crowd, for an hour or two.

      From Rochdale to Manchester, 13 miles; a sad rough road of broken pavement.

      Near Middleton, about half way from Rochdale to Manchester, on a hill to the left, is Sir Ashton Lever's, or rather what was his property.

      To the right, nearer Manchester, is Lord Grey de Wilton's.

      A mile short of Manchester, before the steep descent to the town, on the right, is Broughton, ​belonging to Colonel Cluese; the finest situation about Manchester.

      My guide has already conducted travellers to Manchester; I therefore leave them to enjoy the inexhaustible fund of amusement their own reflections, on what they have seen and observed, must continually afford them.