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Harrogate, with its population of nearly 20,000 inhabitants, is
situated in the West Riding of Yorkshire, midway between the
German Ocean and the Irish Channel, and the line, of 54 degrees
latitude, on which Harrogate stands, runs through Bridlington Bay
on the east coast, and Morecambe Bay on the west. The highest
parts of Harrogate are 600 feet above the sea level, and Low
Harrogate about 350 feet. It is 199 miles from London, and 212
from Edinburgh, each of which places can be reached in comfort by
train, in between four and five hours without a change.
Of late years much has been done in the way of building, and
laying out the town in well-made streets, shops and private
residences, to say nothing of the Royal Baths, and the addition of
many excellent hotels.
In 1779, the Stray was set apart for the use of the inhabitants
" for ever," and never can it be built upon. It is a
fine open grass space of 200 acres, and no matter to what extent
Harrogate may increase, it will always be looked upon as the lungs
and heart of the borough.
The country around is varied in scenery - combining moorland in
one part, great fertility in another. It is undulating, and in
parts wooded, and abounds with objects of the greatest historical
interest - Bolton Abbey - with all its associations of "the
Olden Time'' ; Fountains Abbey - the finest ecclesiastical ruin in
the country; Ripon and its cathedral - rich in its history of
raids by the Northern Scot; Knaresborough Castle, at one time
owned by John o'Gaunt, fourth son of Edward the Third; and other
places of minor historical interest, such as Ribston Hall, with
its world-famed pater pippin tree, Ripley Castle, and stately
Harewood.
Less than a mile from Harrogate is Harlow Tower, on Harlow
Moor. Its summit is 670 feet above the sea, and around its base,
for many acres, the moor is covered with lofty pines, rose-hued
heather, and many a blooming wild shrub. In the summer, and even
at other seasons of the year, the air is scented with fragrant
perfumes, the ear is lulled by the humming bee, and the mind drawn
upwards by the song of the lark.
From the tower, on a clear day, a splendid panoramic view is
met with. Away out there is seen the bold outline of the Yorkshire
Wolds, the hills and crags of rocky Hambleton, the wooded clump of
Studley Royal, the stately pile of York Minster, the peaks of
Derbyshire, the Cathedral of Lincoln, the lovely valleys of the
Wharfe and Nidd, many an ancient mansion and scores of heavenward
pointing church spires.
Need I say that, to the weary and ill-stricken visitor, these
enchanting surroundings breathe on him their balm.
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