Ten miles further down the stream we come to Armathwaite. The castle thereof is a plain old tower modernised. Its charm lies in the surroundings. There is a fine wooded walk by the river, which swirls round a huge crag. Above the weir the stream swells out into a lake. The weir itself is some four yards high and twenty long; its slope does not approach the perpendicular; and though the Eden must needs fall over it, it does so with a gentle grace quite in keeping with its character. The place has its musty records: William Rufus built a mill here. Here, too, the Benedictines had a religious house; but what pleasant spot in England is without its religious house? The ancient family of Skelton held the castle from the days of the second Richard; and here most probably John Skelton, the poet--the best known, if not most reputable, member of the race--was born about 1461. He took holy orders, and was rector of Diss, in Norfolk, but lost this and other appointments--from his improper conduct, said his superiors--rather you fancy from his mad wit, which lampooned everything and everybody. Three things he held in special horror: the mendicant friars, Lilly the grammarian, and Cardinal Wolsey. And he found vulnerable points in the red robe of the cardinal. "Why come ye not to Court?" is a bitter, brutal, yet brilliant invective against the great statesman. He taunts the English nobility that they dared not move-- "For dread of the mastiff cur, For dread of the butcher's dog Worrying them like a hog." No doubt Wolsey's father _was_ a butcher, but his Eminence scarce cared to have his memory jogged on the matter; no doubt the English nobles _were_ afraid of the great prelate, but they would rather not be told so. Thus, when vengeance threatened, Skelton found none to take his part. With a mocking grin, you fancy, invoking the protection of the very Church he had disgraced, he took sanctuary at Westminster, whence not even Wolsey dared drag him forth. Here he is said to have amused himself in inditing certain "Merrie Tales," accounts, it would seem, of his own adventures.