Except that the path has been levelled and widened, and openings enlarged, and planks laid in one place to facilitate access to a change of level, the cave remains as when first discovered. Mr. Farrer’s precautions against mischief have prevented that pillage of the interior so much to be deplored in other caves of this region, where the first-comers made prize of all the ornaments within reach, and left little but bare walls for those who follow. Yet even here some of the smaller stalactites, the size of a finger, have been missed after a party has gone through; and once a man struck a group of stalactites and broke more than a foot off the longest, in sheer wantonness, as it seemed, for the fragment was too heavy to carry away. And there the mutilation remains, a lasting reproach to a fool.
My candle burnt out, and the other flickered near its end, but the old man had two halves which he lit, and these more than sufficed for our return. The red light of sunset was streaming into the entrance when we came forth after a sojourn of nearly two hours in the bowels of the mountain. The guide had been very indulgent with me; for most visitors stay but an hour. Those who merely wish to walk through, content with a hasty glance, will find little to impede their movements. There is nothing, indeed, which need deter a woman, only she must leave her hoop at home, wear thick boots, and make provision for looping-up her skirts. Many an English maiden would then enjoy a visit to Ingleborough Cave.
The beck flows out from under the cliff a few yards above the entrance through a broad low vault. I crept in for some distance, and it seemed to me that access to the cave might be gained by wading up the stream. Then as we went down the hill, the old soldier thought that as there were but two of us, we might venture to walk through the grounds, where we saw the lake, the bridge, and the cascade, on our way to the village.
Delicious trout from the neighbouring brook, and most excellent beer, awaited me for supper, and made me well content with the Bull and Cave. Afterwards I joined the party in the little bar-parlour, where among a variety of topics, the mountain was talked about. The landlord, a hale old fellow of sixty, said that he had never once been on the summit, though he had lived all his life at the base. A rustic, though a two years’ resident in Clapham, had not been up, and for a reason: “You see,” he said, “if a man gets on a high place, he isn’t satisfied then; he wants to get higher. So I thinks best to content myself down here.”
Then spoke another of the party, a man well dressed, in praise of rural quiet, and the enjoyment of fresh air, contrasting the tranquillity of Clapham at that hour with the noise and confusion at Bradford, where the streets would be thronged till after midnight. He was an ‘operative’ from Bradford, come as was his wont, to spend Sunday in the country. He grew eloquent on the subject of masters and men, averring that masters, as a body, would never do anything for the benefit of workmen unless compelled thereto by act of Parliament. Well might he say so. Would the mills be ventilated; would dangerous machinery be boxed off; would schools have been interposed between children and slavery, had Parliament not interfered? The number of Yorkshire factory children at school on the last day of October, 1857, was 18,000, from eight to thirteen years of age. On this latter particular our spinner could not say enough in praise of the House of Commons: there was a chance for the bairns now that the law punished the masters who did not allow time for school as well as for work. “It’s one of the grandest things,” he said, “Parliament ever did for the factory hands.”
He had too much reason to speak as he did; but we must not suppose that the great millowners are worse than other masters. Owing to the large numbers they employ, the evils complained of appear in a violent and concentrated form; but we have only to look at the way in which apprentices and domestic servants are treated everywhere, especially in large towns (with comparatively few exceptions,) to become aware that a want of fair-play is by far too prevalent. No wonder that Dr. Livingstone finds reason to say we are not model Christians.
CHAPTER XXII.
By Rail to Skipton—A Stony Town—Church and Castle—The Cliffords—Wharfedale—Bolton Abbey—Picturesque Ruins—A Foot-Bath—Scraps from Wordsworth—Bolton Park—The Strid—Barden Tower—The Wharfe—The Shepherd Lord—Reading to Grandfather—A Cup of Tea—Cheerful Hospitality—Trout Fishing—Gale Beck—Symon Seat—A Real Entertainer—Burnsall—A Drink of Porter—Immoralities—Threshfield—Kilnsey—The Crag—Kettlewell—A Primitive Village—Great Whernside—Starbottom—Buckden—Last View of Wharfedale—Cray—Bishopdale—A Pleasant Lane—Bolton Castle—Penhill—Aysgarth—Dead Pastimes—Decrease of Quakers—Failure of a Mission—Why and Wherefore—Aysgarth Force—Drunken Barnaby—Inroad of Fashion.