Sir William Craven also erected and endowed the Grammar School of the village. At this school Eugene Aram is said to have been an usher. A more interesting character than Aram was the Rev. John Alcock, master of the school in Aram’s time, and rector of a moiety of the parish. It is said of him that on one occasion, when preaching on behalf of some benevolent object, he noticed his congregation becoming restless. “Oh yes,” he said, “I see how it is. You want your dinners; so do I. Very well, there’s sermon enough left for another spell, and so we’ll postpone the remainder till next anniversary.” On another occasion he had no sermon to deliver at all; he had either mislaid or lost his MS. “It’s no matter,” he said to the clerk, loud enough for all to hear; “hand me up that Bible, and I’ll read a chapter in Job worth two of it.” Nor is this the only instance showing how coolly this eccentric clergyman could meet an emergency. There is a story to the effect that the pages of a sermon he had were stitched together in such a way as to confuse the argument. He did not discover this until about to announce the text, when he quietly explained what had happened, adding “I’ve no time to put the leaves right. I shall read them as I find them. You can put everything straight yourselves when you get home.” “That’s an awkward word,” he said to a lady when she came to the “obey” in the marriage service; “you can skip on to the next!”
Leaving Burnsall, the Wharfe skirts Hartlington, and flows past Appletreewick. Both of these places trace their history back to Saxon times. There is much to see here, amongst other things caverns worth exploring, and a great collection of boulders known as “the Apronful of Stones.” The legend of the stones is that the devil was carrying them, for some purpose best known to himself, when he stumbled over a knoll, causing the apron to give way with the weight that was in it, and the stones to assume their present position. On the river to the south lies Howgill, and we are now close to Simon’s Seat (1,593 feet), from whose summit fine views of Upper and Lower Wharfedale and neighbouring valleys are obtained. The name Simon in this connection has been traced to the northern hero Sigmund; but the legend among the dalesmen is that a shepherd once found a male child on the top of the mountain, and adopted the infant, whom he named Simon. As the boy grew up the burden of keeping him was shared by different shepherds. The little fellow was cared for, in fact, “amang ’em;” and “Amanghem” became his surname—a name, whatever is to be said for the story, that is borne by some families in this part of the country.
Simon’s Seat rises gradually from the Wharfe, and it is an easy descent from its slopes to Barden Tower, whose grey ruins look grandly over a wild and beautiful scene. Barden Tower was the home of Henry Clifford, “the Shepherd Lord,” and may be taken as a landmark dividing Upper from Lower Wharfedale. The story of the Shepherd Lord, although some four centuries old, is known by oral transmission all over the countryside here. Unlike a good many of the other tales common among the dalesmen, it has the merit of truth. Its hero was the eldest son of John, “the Black Clifford,” who was struck down on the eve of the battle of Towton, and whose estates were forfeited by the issue of that day. The Clifford heir, then a boy of five years, was sent for protection, after the battle, into Cumberland, where he was brought up as a shepherd. He pursued this life for about twenty-five years, and when, on the accession of Henry VII., he secured the inheritance of his ancestors, his desire for a quiet and simple life was shown in the selection he made of Barden Tower for his residence. He found the tower a small keep or lodge, and enlarged it sufficiently to provide accommodation for a few of his friends. Here he spent his time studying astronomy and alchemy, and enjoying the company of such of the monks of Bolton as had similar tastes. The Shepherd Lord could fight valiantly when the need arose, and the dalesmen rallied around his standard when, in his sixtieth year, he went onwards to Flodden:—
“From Penigent to Pendle Hill,
From Linton to Long Addingham,
And all that Craven coasts did till,
They with the lusty Clifford came.”
The Shepherd Lord survived Flodden about ten years. After his death, Barden Tower was only occasionally used by the Cliffords, and was allowed to fall into decay. An inscription over the gateway states that it was repaired by Lady Anne Clifford, Countess of Pembroke, Dorset, and Montgomery, “and High Sheriffesse by inheritance of the county of Westmorland.” This was in the years 1658-9, “after it had layne ruinous ever since about 1589, when her mother then lay in it, and was greate with childe with her, till now that it was repayred by the sayd lady.” “The said lady” did a great deal for the houses of her family; hence a citation at the close of the Barden inscription (Isaiah lviii. 12)—“Thou shalt build up the foundations of many generations, and thou shalt be called the repairer of the breach, the restorer of paths to dwell in.” A small chapel adjoins the ruin, and a part of the tower adjoining the chapel is used as a farmhouse. The property, like the Bolton estate below, now belongs to the Duke of Devonshire.
THE BRIDGE, OTLEY.