The road, which was now become of a drearier character, continued under Crossfell till we approached Brough, when it drew nearer to the sierra just at its termination. Its sides were broken here with rocks, and loose stones brought from above by the frosts and torrents. Under it stood some well-built houses, with a few trees about them, not set thickly enough to look like plantations, but as if of spontaneous growth. The appearance of these houses, wherein certainly the elegancies as well as comforts of life would be found, formed an impressive contrast with the dreariness of the adjoining country, which was as bleak and ungenial as the worst wastes of Galicia. At Brough the coach dined, at an hour unreasonably early, and at an inn bad enough and dirty enough to be in character with a beggarly town.
Our next stage was over the sierra of Stainmoor, a cold and desolate tract. The few houses upon the way bear testimony to the severity of the climate; their roofs are raised to as acute an angle as possible, that the snow may not lie upon them, which covers these heights probably all the winter through. Since my first day's journey in Cornwall, I have seen nothing so desolate, and in this latitude the sky is as cheerless as the earth. Beyond this is the town of Bowes, which is in Yorkshire, a huge province, as large as any other three in the island. The town, like all those which we have seen since Carlisle, has its ruined castle, meant formerly for protection against their marauding neighbours, who long after the union of the two kingdoms carried on incessant hostilities against English beef and mutton.
At Bowes begins the great grazing country for children.—It is the cheapest part of England, and schools for boys have long been established here, to which tradesmen, and even some parents of higher order who think money better than learning, send their children from all the great towns, even from the western provinces,—but London supplies the greater number. Two of these lads we took up, who were returning to their parents in the metropolis after a complete Yorkshire education. One of them, who was just fourteen, had been four years there, during which time one of his sisters and his father had died, and he had never seen face of friend or kinsman. I asked him if he thought he should know his brothers and sisters when he saw them: he said, he supposed not; but presently, after a pause, added with a smile in the dialect of the country, "I think I shall ken 'em too." This was an interesting lad with a quick eye and a dyspeptic countenance. He will be apprenticed behind some London counter, or at a lawyer's desk, and die for want of fresh air. His companion was a fine, thriving, thick-headed fellow, with a bottle belly and a bulbous nose; of that happy and swinish temperament, that it might be sworn he would feed and fatten wherever he went.
These schools are upon the most œconomical plan: a pension of sixteen pounds sterling pays for everything, clothing included. For certain they are kept upon Spartan fare; but the boys, who were from different schools, spake well of their masters, and had evidently been happy there. Sheets are considered as superfluous, and clean linen as a luxury reserved only for Sundays. They wash their own clothes by means of a machine; and the masters use no other labourers in getting in their harvests both of hay and corn; so that what with farming, teaching, and a small cure, for they are generally priests, they make the system answer. What is taught is merely what is required for the common purposes of life, to write well, and be ready at the ordinary operations of arithmetic. They profess to teach Latin, but I could not find that the masters ever ventured beyond the grammar. At one of these schools they had been enacting plays, to which the neighbourhood were admitted at a price. Three pounds a night had been their receipt, and this was divided among the boys. Our little friend related this with great satisfaction, told us that he himself had played a part, and was easily persuaded to give us one of his songs. They had moveable scenes, he said, as good as we should see in any theatre.—One of these schools consists of Irish boys, and the master goes over every summer to catch a drove of them.
A single house at Greta-Bridge was our next stage, pleasantly situated beside a clear rapid river in a woody country; but after this single scene of beauty all was flat and dismal. The road, however, had this recommendation, that for league after league it was as straight as the most impatient traveller could wish it. At midnight we left the coach at Borough-Bridge, bidding adieu to the poor boys who had forty hours to travel on.
LETTER XLV.
York City and Minster.—Journey to Lincoln.—Travellers imposed upon.—Innkeepers.—Ferry over the Trent.—Lincoln.—Great Tom.—Newark.—Alconbury Hill.
Wednesday.
From Borough-Bridge, which is a little town full of good inns, we took chaise in the morning for York. The road was a straight line over a dead flat; the houses which we passed of red brick, roofed with red tiles, uglier than common cottages, and not promising more comfort within. York is one of the few English cities with the name of which foreigners are familiar. I was disappointed that its appearance in the distance was not finer,—we saw its huge cathedral rising over the level,—but that was all; and I found that the second city in England was as little imposing as the metropolis upon a first view. We drove under an old gateway and up a narrow street, ordered dinner at the inn, and set out to see the cathedral, here called the minster.