Chambers's Journal of Popular Literature, Science, and Art, fifth series, no. 146, vol. III, October 16, 1886

No. 146.—Vol. III.
Price 1½ d.
SATURDAY, OCTOBER 16, 1886.
The finest county in all England is the great shire of York, with its rugged coast, and its rolling plains dotted with many a noble church, its wild moorlands and lofty fells, its fertile valleys with their monastic ruins and crumbling castle-keeps. Every Yorkshireman is proud of his county, whether he be foxhunting Squire, lord of thousands of its acres, or merchant-prince—a brawny artisan, toiling in one of its great manufacturing towns, or a stalwart dalesman—a miner drifting for lead in the north-west, or a pitman burrowing for coal in the south—the sturdy yeoman-farmer of the wolds, or bluff fisherman on the shores of the wild North Sea—for is it not a very epitome of his country?
Micklefell, Whernside, Ingleborough, Penyghent, and many a mountain crest on the west, the bold chalk headland and wondrous caverns of Flamborough, with the romantic stretch of cliffs round Robin Hood Bay to eastward, afford scenery of the grandest description. Swaledale, Teesdale, Wensleydale, Nidderdale, and Wharfedale, with the rich plain of York beyond stretching away to the tilled slopes of the wolds and Hambleton Hills, are gems of softer beauty. The big towns of Leeds, Sheffield, Bradford, Wakefield, are seats of busy commerce, whose black smoke pollutes the air, whilst the snorting engine and thundering steam-hammer resound both night and day. The broad Humber bears on its tide-ruffled bosom great fleets from Hull and Goole, which carry their wares to every corner of the world. Fountains, Bolton, Rievaulx, Kirkstall, Pervaulx, and lesser abbeys, tell of past glories; whilst York, Ripon, Selby, Beverley, and Bridlington minsters are still glories of to-day. The castles of York, Bolton, Knaresborough, Wressle, Conisbrough, Pontefract, Helmsley, Scarborough, and other relics of troublous times yet look down upon this peaceful nineteenth century. The battlefields of Stamford Bridge, Northallerton, Wakefield, Towton, and Marston Moor still speak of the share Yorkshire had in making England’s history; and grand old York, with its ancient churches and minster, its frowning Bars, and encircling city walls, recalls past fame and grandeur, when the legions garrisoned it as ‘Eboracum,’ the chief seat of the Roman power in Britain (when London was an insignificant village) long before Saxon and Dane fought in the narrow streets for possession of it as ‘Eoforwic.’ For the archæologist, the botanist, the painter, and the sportsman, old ‘Eurewicshire’ is a happy hunting-ground indeed; the antiquary and philologist alike find it a rich storehouse of quaint customs and strange dialects; whilst to the geologist and physiographist, it is a charming text-book, written in bold graceful language, with many beautiful and wondrous illustrations.