Peckforton. 99 



modern times that for the moment is overwhelming. 

 The hill upon which it -stands is covered with natural 

 wood, and in the remote parts gives way to heathery 

 wilderness. To pursue this for any considerable distance, 

 when half the day has already been given to Beeston, 

 of course is not possible. Begun early enough, we find 

 it almost continuous with the heights reached by way of 

 Broxton. 



After the bastions and the gateway of Beeston Castle, 

 the curiosity of the place is the ancient well, sunk through 

 the rock to Beeston Brook, a depth of three hundred 

 and seventy feet, but now quite dry. A trayful of lighted 

 candles is let down by a windlass for the entertainment 

 of visitors who care to see the light diminish to a speck. 

 On the way to Peckforton, it must not be overlooked, 

 either, that in a pretty garden upon the right will be 

 found Horsley Bath, limpid water perpetually running 

 out of the rock, and in restorative powers, if the legends 

 be true, a genuine "fountain of rejuvenescence." 



