CHAPTER VII. 



BEESTON CASTLE. 



This castle hath a pleasant seat ; the air 

 Nimbly and sweetly recommends itself 

 Unto our gentle senses. 



This guest of summer, 

 The temple-haunting martlet, doth approve 

 By his lov'd mansionry, that the heavens' breath 

 Smells wooingly here. 



SHAKSPEARE. 



HEN for our country pleasure an entire day 

 can be commanded, Crewe, ten or twelve 

 miles from Chelford, and thirty-one from 

 Manchester, marks the way to Combermere 

 Abbey and Beeston Castle places alike of 

 singular interest, though of totally different 

 character. To reach Combermere, it is 

 needful to continue a little distance along the line which 

 diverges from Crewe for Shrewsbury, booking to and 

 alighting at Wrenbury. Two or three different routes 

 may be taken thence, in any case by pleasant fields and 

 lanes not difficult to discover. The shortest way is to go 

 first across Mr. Wilson's broad acres of model farm-land, 



