Country Rambles, and Manchester Walks and Wild Flowers: Being Rural Wanderings in Cheshire, Lancashire, Derbyshire, and YorkshireGrindon, Leo H. (Leo Hartley)
History
Country Rambles, and Manchester Walks and Wild Flowers: Being Rural Wanderings in Cheshire, Lancashire, Derbyshire, and Yorkshire
Grindon, Leo H. (Leo Hartley)
England -- Description and travel; Natural history -- England -- Manchester
The path through the fields referred to as the best for approaching
the clough from Manchester, turns up when near Blackley through a
little wood, and thence into meadows, which very agreeably abridge the
distance homeward, especially if we go at that best season of all for
visiting Boggart-hole, when the newly-cut hay is scenting the air, and
tiny hands are trying to help the great rakes and forks of the farmer's
troop, and the beautiful crescent of the young moon hangs golden in
the sky, and the bright reluctant twilight almost lasts to another
day, lingering like a lover at the hand of his betrothed. The stream,
it may be added, that winds its way along the bottom of the clough is
a tributary of the Irk,--that unfortunate little river which, rising
in or near tree-crested Tandle Hill, north-east of Middleton, seems
to grow ashamed of its blackened waters as it creeps into the town
by Collyhurst, and which, as it hastens to its oblivious refuge in
the Irwell, is known to every one in its last leap,--the hideous fall
underneath the Victoria Station, on the side next Millgate. "Manchester
Rivers, their Sources and Courses," would form a capital subject for
a book. The Mersey, the Irwell, the Irk, the Tame, the Etherowe,
the Bollin, the Goyt, and several others, are full of interesting
associations; and if they be not of the clearest water in their lower
portions, remember the work they do. A limpid stream among the hills
is lovely and poetical; but the most pleasing of all rivers are those
of which the banks are occupied by an industrious and intelligent
population; and we must not cry out too vehemently about the soiling
and spoiling, unless it be easily avoidable and a piece of downright
and wilful damage, when their first and highest value is that of
facilitating industrial efforts, and helping on the prosperity of a
town and nation. The truly poetical man is never a sentimentalist; and
though he may pity the destruction of beautiful objects, he is content
to see them converted into sources of general welfare, and to look
elsewhere for new materials of enjoyment.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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