The Boy of Egremond at the Strid

Between Bolton and Barden the River Wharfe squeezes through a rocky cleft little more than four feet wide, called the Strid, which daring people would try to leap. Tradition said young Romille, the Boy of Egremond, jumped it with a greyhound on a leash; the dog hung back and pulled him into the torrent. His forester went back to the boy’s mother and asked her what was good for a bootless bene, a prayer that could not be answered, and she, guessing the truth, answered endless sorrow. The loss was said to be why the priory was moved from Embsay to Bolton.