It is a difficult matter to decide which is the more attractive means of exploring Swaledale; for if one keeps to the road at the bottom of the valley many beautiful and remarkable aspects of the country are missed, and yet if one goes over the moors it is impossible to really explore the recesses of the dale. The old road from Richmond to Reeth avoids the dale altogether, except for the last mile, and its ups and its downs make the traveller pay handsomely for the scenery by the way. But this ought not to deter anyone from using the road; for the view of the village of Marske, cosily situated among the wooded heights that rise above the beck, is missed by those who keep to the new road along the banks of the Swale. The romantic seclusion of this village is accentuated towards evening, when a shadowy stillness fills the hollows. The higher woods may be still glowing with the light of the golden west, while down below a softness of outline adds beauty to every object. The old bridge that takes the road to Reeth across Marske Beck needs no such fault-forgiving light, for it was standing in the reign of Elizabeth, and, from its appearance, it is probably centuries older. There used to be a quaint little mill close to the bridge, but this was, unfortunately, swept away when some alterations were being made in the surroundings of Marske Hall, a seat of the Huttons. It was one of this family, in whose hands the manor of Marske has remained for over 300 years, to whom the idea occurred of converting what was formerly a precipitous ravine, with bare rocky scars on either side, into the heavily wooded and romantic spot one finds to-day. Beyond the beautifying of this little branch valley of Swaledale, the Huttons are a notable family in having produced two Archbishops. They both bore the same name of Matthew Hutton. The first, who is mentioned by Thomas Fuller in his ‘Worthies’ as ‘a learned Prelate,’ was raised to the Archbishopric of York from Durham in 1594. This Matthew Hutton seems to have found favour with Elizabeth, for, beyond his rapid progress in the Church, there is still preserved in Marske Hall a gold cup presented to him by the Queen.[A] The second Archbishop was promoted from Bangor to York, and finally to Canterbury in 1757. [A] Murray. Rising above the woods near Marske Hall there appears a tall obelisk, put up to the memory of Captain Matthew Hutton about a century ago, when that type of memorial had gained a prodigious popularity. An obelisk towering above a plantation can scarcely be considered an attractive feature in a landscape, for its outline is too strongly suggestive of a mine-shaft; but how can one hope to find beauty in any of the architectural efforts of a period that seems to have been dead to art?