The morning call., 1891-04-19

| All visit the classic shades of Bolton All
hey, four miles above Likely. Few Ameri-
! cans have seen it, because of its remote
ness. The ancient priory was founded In
ISL, and owed its origin to pathetc
| tragedy, best told in Rogers ballad, "The
Boy Of Egremond." Lady Alice, wife OF
! William Fitz-Duncan, nephew to King
| David of Scotland, was the founder.
just mile above the abbey, the river
| Wharfs is compressed within deep, tor
| rent-liBe rocky channel, called the 6trld,
| because one can stride Or leap across H.
| The sou Of Lady Alice attempted to cross
| the Strid, leading u hound in leash. line
| latter, suddenly shrinking back, preclpl-
| tated 1.-THE boy of Egremond' into the tor
| rent He was drowned. In dolorous mem
| DRY Bolton Abbey was built. Among all the
| abbey ruins OF Great Britain Bolton, blended
| with its surroundings, is certainly the most
| attractiYely picturesque. MeroSe is lncom-
\ parabiy more interesting as al eccleSlaStie
| art-relis; iyY-bulied DryburSh protects the
| grave of Scott: kirkstall, as an Impressive
| ruin is far superior, and Fountains IS more
! perfect, spacious and splendid; but Bolton
| Abbey stands as both an impressive and
! picturesque olden shrine in a perfect dream
| of natural beauty and repose.
| The ruins are situated on the west side OF
| the Wharfe, upon gentle grassy emlnence,
| where the river curves broadly to the east,
| breaking in ripping shadows along It's
| sunny way. The ancient conventHai walls
are so fallen in places as to be overgrown
| with grass and shrubbery. Other portions
| of the wall still stand high and lofty, sub
dued in their jagged outlines by masses OF
| IVY The STEEL OF the great priory church Is
| yet entire and into It's splendid nave has
| been built
| PARoCHIAL CHAPEL,
| Almost type Of a truant faith still clinging
to its mother church, while the dainliest
| parsonage eyes ever beheld has been built
| out II the ruins over against where once
| stood the court of clOisters. An ancient
| escutcheon is emblazoned on its gateway; It's
| porch is buried Ill Ivy, and III summer via
| nOpS and ladybOWer klndle the DARK masses
| with bloom To the student OF eccleslastic
| art Bolton Priory offers but few diStnt
| and fruitful studies. There IS hue old arch
1 still standing which once led to the chapter
| house. In the nave Is wooden screen OF
| remarkable Tudor work. The decorated
| windows of the transepts are excellent ex-
| amples. The early English work oil the
| west front of the nave has a magnificent
| recessed doorway, enriched with fifteen
| holdings, While the west window is as
| exquisite an example OF The perpendicular
| style rs may be found in England. In
every direction the eye falls On matchless
| scenes of sweetness and rest. The very air
| and sunlight OF the little vale seem eloquent
| Of Tepose. The inner sense dreamfully
! dweIls upon the sacred and classic memories
| OIL tIe lNN-lliu Iulu5, lUc W llc lHOuutdVco
| its wimpinsS TO the spirit of the S ot and
| even the birds, loving the valley as retreat
| from the ever cTowding OF the grim aud
| smoky mills, sing here in their harfeside
I sanctuary their sottest and tendeTest songs.
| Outside of all quaint and pleasant things
about old and new Ilkley it is a delightful
| place TO visit from the human interest OF
| the town and its ueighboThoOd. The ances-
| tors oil that sweet singer, Bishop Heber,
lived aud died here. II is the land of the
III.
| fused to our own Virginia. II was the pas
sionately loved haunt Of Turner, who never
! spoke OF sweet Wharfedale without Quly-
| erBg of the voice.; while Ruskin dis
cerned little bits Of llkley scenery hanging
on to the Alpine heights when Turner came
10 paint them" But the personality above
| all others that links the American
heart of to- day to old Likely is one
cur country has held in loving re-
gard now these two score years; the
great hearted man, who. at Philadel-
| phia, Chicago and New York, has made
other men, Romanist or Protestant, orthO-
dox or heterodox, better and happier for
his ministry among them-grand, gray Rob-
ert COllyer, who, when he passed from the
iron to the spiritual anvil, knew no change
in the real man that was in him, which
made a great preacher and teacher out OF
the ''Y 0Tkshre blacksmith of llkley.
OF his lineage there was grandfather
who fought under Nelson and went over
board one dark night in storm. He was
on the fathers side. On the mothers side
was another grandfather sailor. VINO went
| beneath the waves with his ship. The two
widows fought the wolf while they were
able and died presently of the fight Then,
as the century was coming in, Yorkshire.
with
IT'S GREAT MILLS
And factories. came to be the land of PROM
Use to all in the south OF England who
| wanted to better themselves. SO bright
lad in London, who knew the songs OF the
| anvil, and lass from Norwich, were caught
10y the same impulse of betterment thattook
their BARN, Robert, across the sea, when
grown to manhood and the then little col
lection of matches known as Ilkley soon
became the humble couples home. What
the boy, BOab." first learned to notice
was woman, tall, deep-chested with shin
ing flayen hair and laughing blue eyes, a
damaSk rose bloom on her cheek, laugh
that was music, too, a step like deer S
for lightnesS, and an activity that could
| carry its posseSSor twenty miles day
over the rough northern hill and land
her safely home at night. She would
have led an army, like the old Queens, OF
governed kingdom, CoIlyer thinks of this
mother of his. What she did govern was q
house full OF great, growing. hungry, out
breaking BARNS = keeping them well in
hand, shifting all hindraHce out OF their
way, clothing them and feeding them
brayely, and paying for the schooling as
long as they could be spared to go, out OF
the IS shillings week the quiet, mapful
father made at his anvil. The old villagers
say the. kindest heart that ever beat in a
mans breast was his. 1t stopped beating IN
n moment one hot July day, while his
father was fashioning the humble fortunes
of his family at the forge.
But i'll these brave old days those that
were left were all together in one OF the
sweetest cottage homes that ever stood I'M
der green leaves In green valley. There
was a plumb tree, a rose tree, wealth of
ivy and a bit OF green sward outside; and
inside, one room below, and two above; with
a floor of flags, secured so white you could
have eaten your dinner off it, and no harm
been done except to the floor; whitewaShed
walls, with pictures of Bible scenes hung
where there was room; and in their own
places. kept so bright as to be so many dusky
mirrors, great mahogany chest of drawers,
high-cased clock. polished elm chairs, and a
corner cupboard for the china that was only
got out at high festivals; bright, open sea-
coal fire, always alight winter and summer
with all sorts of common things for common
use, stored snug and bright, like the goods
and chattels of Ed'ard Cutie, mariner.
This was Collyer's home in the day of small
things, matched then and now by thousands
of cottages in the sturdy Old shire of York.
COllyer got all his schooling" from an
odd character many of the llkley folk still
remember, by the name Of Willie Hardie.
In those days, by favor, all cripples were
fidders or teachers. Willie Hardie was
both. He was about the worst cripple and
best fiddler and teacher the llkley distr ct
ever knew. He had
STRANGE sQUINT IN HIS EYES.
But for all that was great marksman with
the feruie. There was no use of lodging.
III you did the ferule would find you out
and thump you all the harder. Collyer and
his young companions swore solemnly to
thrash him when they grew TO be men. In