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on fifteen miles to Otley: first up Shode-bank, the steepest hill
I ever saw a road carried over in England, for it mounts in a
straight line (without any other repose for the horses than by
placing stones every now and then behind the wheels) for a full
mile; then the road goes on a level along the brow of this high
hill over Rumbald-moor, till it gently descends into Wharfdale,
so they call the vale of the Wharf, and a beautiful vale it is,
well wooded, well cultivated, well inhabited, but with high crags
at a distance, that border the green country on each hand;
through the midst of it, deep, clear, and full to the brink, and
of no inconsiderable breadth, runs in long windings, the river.
How it comes to pass that it should be so fine and copious a
stream here, and at Tadcaster (so much lower) should have nothing
but a wide stony channel without water, I cannot tell you. I
passed through Long Addingham, Ilkeley, (pronounced Eecly)
distinguished by a lofty brow of loose rocks to the right;
Burkley, a neat and pretty village among trees; on the opposite
side of the river lay Middleton-lodge, belonging to a catholic
gentleman of that name; Weston, a venerable stone fabric, with
large offices, of Mr. Vavasour, the meadows in front gently
descending to the water, and behind a great and shady wood;
Farnly (Mr. Fowke's) a place like the last, but larger and rising
higher on the side of the hill. Otley is a large airy town, with
clean but low rustic buildings, and a bridge over the Wharf; I
went into its spacious gothic church, which has been new-roofed,
with a flat stucco ceiling; in a corner of it is the monument of
Thomas Lord Halifax, and Helen Aske, his lady, descended from the
Cliffords and Latimers, as her epitaph says; the figures (which
are not ill cut, particularly in his armour, but bare-headed) lie
on the tomb. I take them to be the parents of the famous Sir
Thomas Fairfax
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