The Balnea; Or, an Impartial Description of All the Popular Watering Places in England, by George Saville Carey

This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1799. Excerpt: ... The Library is not of the greatest magnitude, but is pleasantly situated on a rising ground, between Upper and Lower Harrowgate; it is an agreeable lounge, where you are accommodated with newspapers, hear the novelties of the day, and sometimes form a good society. Harrowgate is two hundred and twelves miles from London, and fifteen miles north of Leeds in Yorkshire. SCARBOROUGH. In your way from Harrowgate to Scarborough, you go through the ancient and venerable city of York, the metropolis of the northern part of England. England. It is well worth the traveller's while to rest a day in this city, especially if he should possess a taste for antiquity. The Cathedral is perhaps one of the largest Gothic structures in Christendom, shamefully huddled up and obtruded upon by the pitiful houses that enclose it, almost to the very steps of every entrance; so that you are mortified by having only a piecemeal view of this national ornament from any point whatever. This city is built on a fine gravelly soil, like to that about London, and the face of the country around the two cities bears a strong resemblance to each other. The The river Ouze is navigable, glides gently through it, and empties itself, into the Humber, which makes its way with great rapidity into the great ocean. The one-arched bridge which crosses the Ouze at York is said to be very ancient, is built with stone, and is not much unlike the Rialto at Venice. The promenade here is a beautiful well-gravelled walk, near to the river side, meandering for the space of a mile, on which are erected many handsome and commodious seats, well placed under tall embowering trees. Between the walk and the river is a well-grown quickset hedge, where here and there the wreathing woodbine shews its head, negligent ...