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THE RIVERS AND STREAMS
OF ENGLAND




AGENTS


AMERICA          THE MACMILLAN COMPANY
                   64 & 66 FIFTH AVENUE, NEW YORK

AUSTRALASIA      THE OXFORD UNIVERSITY PRESS
                   205 FLINDERS LANE, MELBOURNE

CANADA           THE MACMILLAN COMPANY OF CANADA, LTD.
                   ST. MARTIN'S HOUSE, 70 BOND STREET, TORONTO

INDIA            MACMILLAN & COMPANY, LTD.
                   MACMILLAN BUILDING, BOMBAY
                   309 BOW BAZAAR STREET, CALCUTTA

[Illustration]

[Illustration: THE DERWENT, HIGH TOR, MATLOCK, DERBYSHIRE]




THE
RIVERS & STREAMS
OF ENGLAND

PAINTED BY
SUTTON PALMER

DESCRIBED BY
A. G. BRADLEY

[Illustration: colophon]
PUBLISHED BY 4 SOHO SQUARE

ADAM AND CHARLES LONDON, W

BLACK MCMIX




PREFACE


Though this is not a book on angling, a life-long attachment to the
fly-rod on the part of the author, and to the delightful scenes into
which such predilections notoriously lead one, makes it at once more
difficult and more easy to write than if one were approaching the
subject as a stranger to the atmosphere, and merely to "write round" the
pictures Mr. Palmer has so admirably painted. But in my case it is by no
means only this. A predilection for British landscape in general, and
all that thereby hangs, has stimulated a far wider acquaintance with it
than any mere angling rambles could achieve, and resulted in the
publication of several books concerned with such things, and covering
more or less about twenty counties. I feel this explanation is
desirable, lest the note of intimacy with many far-sundered streams, in
allusion and otherwise, that must occur in these pages may be suspect.
The more so, as from the fascination of the Cook's ticket or what not,
comparatively few of my countrymen have any considerable knowledge of
their own land. The Rhine is certainly better known than the Wye, and
the Danube probably than the Severn.

But these very experiences made the first proposal to write a book,
other than a mere encyclopaedia, within a brief space on such a big
subject, seem almost hopeless. Rivers and streams from every direction,
by scores, came surging out upon the memory at the very thought of it,
in quite distracting fashion. It was finally agreed, however, that the
literary part of the book should take shape in a series of essays or
chapters dealing with the rivers mainly in separate groups or
water-sheds, leaving the proportions to my discretion. Capricious in a
measure this was bound to be. Selection was inevitable. It is not of
supreme importance. _Caeteris paribus_, and without diverging more than
necessary from the skilful illustrator, I have dealt more freely with
the rivers I know best, and also with those I hold to be more worthy of
notice. There are, of course, omissions, this book being neither a guide
nor an encyclopaedia, but rather a collection of descriptive essays and
of water-colour sketches covering, though necessarily in brief, most of
the groups. In this particular subject there is happily no need for
author and illustrator to keep close company in detail. What inspires
the pen, and in actual survey stirs the blood, is often unpaintable.
What makes a delightful picture, on the other hand, tells sometimes but
a dull tale in print. I have had to leave to the artist's capable brush,
owing to the necessary limitations of the letterpress, several subjects;
a matter, however, which seems to me as quite immaterial to the general
purport of the book, as it is unavoidable. But otherwise I think we run
reasonably together. At first sight the omission of the Thames in
description may seem outrageous. A moment's reflection, however, will, I
am sure, conduce to a saner view. Illustration is wholly another matter;
but to attempt ten or fifteen pages on that great and familiar river,
dealt with, too, in bulk and brief by innumerable pens, that could serve
any purpose or gratify any reader, seems to me a fatuous undertaking.
The Severn, on the other hand, as great, almost as important as the
Thames, and still more beautiful, is by comparison an absolutely unknown
river, and we have given it the first place.

A. G. B.




CONTENTS


CHAPTER I

                                                                    PAGE

THE SEVERN                                                             1

CHAPTER II

THE WYE                                                               39

CHAPTER III

THE CHALK STREAMS                                                     64

CHAPTER IV

THE BORDER RIVERS                                                    101

CHAPTER V

TWO AVONS                                                            149

CHAPTER VI

THE RIVERS OF DEVON                                                  161

CHAPTER VII

THE RIVERS OF THE SOUTH-EAST                                         209

CHAPTER VIII

THE YORKSHIRE DALES                                                  227

CHAPTER IX

AN EAST ANGLIAN RIVER                                                269




LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS


1. The Derwent, High Tor, Matlock                          _Frontispiece_

                                                             FACING PAGE
2. The Severn, near Arley, Shropshire                                  6

3. The Severn, Bridgenorth, Shropshire                                18

4. The Severn, near Cam, Gloucestershire                              30

5. Chepstow with Wye and Severn                                       34

6. The Wye, Haddon Hall, Derbyshire                                   38

7. The Wye, Hay, Breconshire                                          40

8. The Wye, Ross, Herefordshire                                       46

9. The Monnow, Old Bridge, Monmouth                                   52

10. The Wye, Symond's Yat, Herefordshire                              60

11. The Wye, Tintern, Monmouthshire                                   62

12. The Thames, looking towards Henley                                64

13. The Avon, near Salisbury                                          66

14. The Thames, the Bells of Ouseley, Old Windsor                     70

15. Stapleford on the Wiley                                           82

16. The Itchen, St. Cross, Winchester                                 88

17. The Itchen, and St. Giles' Hill, Winchester                       94

18. The Dove, Dovedale, Derbyshire                                   100

19. The Tyne, Hexham, Northumberland                                 102

20. The Coquet, and Warkworth Castle, Northumberland                 124

21. The Eden, Samson's Chamber, near Carlisle                        136

22. The Eden, near Lazonby, Cumberland                               140

23. The Derwent, Grange, Borrowdale                                  142

24. Skelwith Force, near Ambleside, Westmoreland                     144

25. The Derwent, Borrowdale, Cumberland                              146

26. The Brathay, Langdale, Westmoreland                              150

27. The Thames, Backwater by the Islands, Henley                     152

28. The Avon at Clifton                                              154

29. The Avon, Stratford, Warwickshire                                158

30. A Glimpse of the Thames, Kew                                     160

31. The Hamoaze, Devonport, from Mount Edgcumbe                      162

32. The Dart, Dittisham, Devon                                       166

33. The Erme, Ivy Bridge, Devon                                      172

34. The Tamar, Cotehele, Cornwall                                    178

35. The Tamar, near Calstock, Cornwall                               182

36. The Tavy, Tavistock, Devon                                       186

37. The Okement, Oakhampton, Devon                                   192

38. On the West Lynn, Lynmouth, Devon                                198

39. The Exe, Countess Weir, Devon                                    200

40. The Exe, Topsham, Devon                                          202

41. The Axe, Axmouth, Devon                                          204

42. The Thames, Eton                                                 208

43. The Thames, Richmond                                             208

44. The Arun, Arundel Castle, Sussex                                 208

45. The Arun, Amberley, Sussex                                       210

46. The Ouse, near Barcombe Mills, Sussex                            212

47. The Ouse, near Lewes, Sussex                                     214

48. A Stream, near Leith Hill, Surrey                                216

49. The Rother, Fittleworth, Sussex                                  216

50. The Wey, Surrey                                                  218

51. The Medway, Aylesford, Kent                                      220

52. The Wey, Elstead, Surrey                                         222

53. The Medway, Maidstone, Kent                                      224

54. The Medway, Rochester                                            226

55. The Trent, Nottingham                                            228

56. The Wharfe, Bolton Abbey, Yorkshire                              230

57. The Wharfe, the Strid, Yorkshire                                 234

58. The Wharfe, Barden Tower, Yorkshire                              238

59. The Nidd, Knaresborough, Yorkshire                               242

60. The Ure, near Ripon, Yorkshire                                   246

61. The Ure, Aysgarth Force, Yorkshire                               250

62. The Swale, Richmond, Yorkshire                                   252

63. The Swale, Richmond, Yorkshire                                   254

64. The Swale, Richmond, Yorkshire                                   256

65. The Swale, Easby Abbey, Yorkshire                                258

66. High Force, Tees, Yorkshire                                      260

67. The Tees, Cotherstone, Yorkshire                                 264

68. The Tees, Barnard Castle, Durham                                 266

69. The Stour, Bergholt, Suffolk                                     268

70. The Ouse, near St. Ives, Huntingdonshire                         268

71. The Ouse, Huntingdonshire                                        270

72. The Ouse, Houghton Mill, Huntingdonshire                         272

73. The Ouse, Hemingford Abbots, Huntingdonshire                     274

74. The Ouse, near Holywell, Huntingdonshire                         276

75. The Stour, near Dedham, Essex                                    278

_Sketch Map at end of Volume._




RIVERS AND STREAMS OF ENGLAND




CHAPTER I

THE SEVERN


There is surely some peculiar fascination in the birthplace of a famous
river when this lies in the heart of moors and mountains. For myself, I
admit at once to but scant interest in the infant springs of even such
slow running rivers as I have some personal affection for. There is
neither mystery, nor solitude, nor privacy about their birth. They come
into the world amid much the same surroundings as those in which they
spend the greater part of their mature existence--amid ploughed fields,
cattle pastures, and villages, farmyards, game covers, and ozier beds.
When full they are inevitably muddy, and when empty are very empty
indeed; lifeless, and mute at the best, at the worst actually dry. The
river of low-country birth acquires, in short, neither character nor
quality worthy of consideration till as a full-grown stream it can trace
a shining coil in the valley, or reflect the shadow of spire, bridge or
mill, of willow or poplar.

How different is the source of a mountain-born river, above all when it
boasts some name famous in story, and is to become the feeder of
historic cities and bearer of great navies. Its hoarse voice plashing
amid the silence of the eternal hills strikes the chord responsive to
such scenes as these with singular force, and a little louder perhaps
than its comparatively nameless neighbour, which leaves their common
watershed for some other sea. As the lowland landscape of England is
unique, so the mountain and moorland solitudes of these two islands are
quite different from anything else in the whole universe. The mountain
regions of England and Wales, Scotland and Ireland, exhibit, to be sure,
some slight variety of detail, due partly to human and partly to natural
agencies. But such differences are positively trifling compared to the
contrast they each and all present to any other of the waste places of
the earth, unless perhaps some wilder portion of Brittany may be a
qualified exception. This delightful singularity, to my thinking a
wholly favourable one, is not sufficiently understood or appreciated.
There are tremendous masses of snow and crag and evergreen timber, as
well as marvellous formations of naked rock, in four continents
appealing to practically another sense. There are lower ranges, too, on
the scale of our own mountains, in many parts of the world draped in
timber from base to summit, which again are of another family, and those
who have lived or been much among them know how unsatisfactory by
comparison are their limitations, how obstructive both of free movement
and of outlook.

But there is nothing anywhere resembling our open hills where heather
and bog grasses of many hues, where emerald turf, spreading bracken and
golden gorse, broken with cliff and crag and scaur, invite the wanderer
to a delightful and easy intimacy with their innermost haunts. Here you
may ramble practically at will, with the unobstructed glories of earth
and air always before your eyes, the fresh tempered breezes of our
gulf-stream-washed island in your lungs, your feet pressing upon plants
and grasses all instinct of a soil that knows nothing of fierce heats
and binding frosts as those terms are understood in most other lands.
And then, again, how futile to parade the altitude of our British
mountains as evidence of insignificance. They laugh to scorn all such
arithmetic, and many times in a single day will wrap themselves in some
magic veil, and lift their peaks and shoulders round you, till scale and
altitude as expressed in figures become practically a thing of naught.
The obvious of the past garish and sunny hour, when their modest
measurement proclaimed itself to any reasonably experienced eye, has
vanished, and you find yourself confronted by heights that lack
absolutely nothing in stature and dignity, and are in effect mountains
of 10,000 feet. Everything that shapely form and atmosphere can achieve
in the way of effect these little mountains of ours are capable of. Our
much maligned climate not merely clothes them in a chequered mantle of
green and russet, of grey, purple, or saffron, only less in winter than
in summer, but gives them those ever-changing moods and aspects that few
people who know both would as a permanency exchange for all the sun
glare of the earth. And how solitary are the hollows of these hills
where rivers rise: nay, often more than that, and little short of
awesome. Here again, perhaps, comes in the quite undisturbing reflection
that there is a railway within five miles and a town possibly within
ten! What does it matter, when nobody ever comes here, and there is not
a trace visible anywhere of man's handiwork but possibly the dark line
of some stone <DW18> built two centuries ago? The very consciousness that
this is in populous Britain makes the wild wilder, the silence stiller,
the solitude more solitary.

For myself, I know of a score of such valley heads in the North and
Wales, whence streams and rivers have their birth, that provoke a
feeling of positive and pleasurable creepiness, such as the wildest
woods and the remotest prairies never touched me with. Whether opening
and shutting in a driving winter mist, or with their high rocky
shoulders turned gloomily from the sun on a fine autumn morning, these
inner sanctuaries and water-sheds where so many of our English rivers
rise seem as if they gathered the silence of unlimited wastes and
distilled its very essence. The very sounds that break their solitude,
intensify it: the plashing of the tiny stream when it has struggled out
of the meshes of the high bog that gives it birth, and is taking its
first leap for liberty and independence down the rocky ledges of the
precipice towards the world below, the mournful call of the curlew, the
fitful, plaintive bleat of the mountain sheep, or the faint rattle of
stones misplaced by its nimble feet. Poets have written of the "startled
air," and some of them perhaps have used the phrase but tritely, and
themselves but half suspecting the true felicity of the metaphor. In
these sombre chambers of the hills, walled in upon every side, the
stillness seems literally to grasp at every slight sound and cling to it
with strange vibrations and lingering echoes, which remind one how
utterly alien to these places are the common sounds of the everyday
world that pass unnoticed--a world so ridiculously near and yet so
infinitely remote.

Among the outstanding geographical facts which used to be hammered into
the heads of schoolboys was that of Plinlimmon being the parent of both
the Severn and the Wye. Many poems both in Welsh and English have been
inspired by this picture of two infant streams springing from the bosom
of the same mountain, and after following widely sundered courses
through various counties, meeting again as great rivers, just in time to
mingle their waters before merging them in the brine. It would be a
pretty conceit even if it were not in the case of these two rivers an
actual fact. Whether

[Illustration: THE SEVERN, NEAR ARLEY, SHROPSHIRE]

[Illustration]

it is on this account, or because of the huge bulk and prominent
situation of Plinlimmon, many "eminent geographers" of not very remote
days wrote it down for the benefit of generations of misguided students
as the third loftiest mountain in Wales. But it is not even in the first
rank, being less than 2500 feet. There are several mountains in South
Wales alone of greater altitude and more graceful shape. But Plinlimmon,
all the same, is a fine upstanding mass of wild bog, linked upon both
