Every preface in olden time was wont to begin with the address "Lectori
Benevolo"--the indulgence of the reader being thereby invoked and, it was
hoped, assured. In that the writer of this at least would have his share,
even though neither subject, nor author, that he introduces, may stand in
need of such a shield.

Local histories are yearly becoming more numerous. In few places is there
more justification for one than here.

I. The beauty of the scenery is not well known. This book should do
something to vindicate its character. There is no need on this point to go
back to the time of George III.'s conversation at the levée with Mrs
Pickering's grandfather. "I suppose you are going back to Yorkshire, Mr
Stanhope? A very ugly country, Yorkshire." This was too much for my
grandfather--(the story is told in her own words)--"We always consider
Yorkshire a very picturesque country." "What, what, what," said the King,
"a coalpit a picturesque object! what, what, what, Yorkshire coalpits
picturesque! Yorkshire a picturesque country!"[1] Only within the last few
months one of us had a letter refusing to consider a vacant post: the
reason given being that this was a colliery district. There is no pit to
be found for miles. Many can, and do, walk, cycle, or motor through the
Vale. Others, who are unable to come and see for themselves, will, with
the help of Mr Home, be in a better position to appreciate at its true
worth the charm of the haughs and the changing views of the distant Wolds,
and of the russet brown or purple expanse of the upland moors.

[Footnote 1: "Memoirs of Anna M.W. Pickering."]

II. The stranger on a visit, no less the historian or antiquary, has till