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Matlock.
[1793, Part
I, pp. 505, 506.],
The rough and rugged scenes at and near Matlock have afforded such
scope to the powers of poetry, painting and description, that I presume
such of your readers as have not been there may think very little more
can be said on the subject. However, pray indulge me with a page in
attempting to describe the road from Chesterfield to Wirksworth. On a
sultry day in August last I left Chesterfield, and for some distance
was amused in passing along a pleasant road, which at length began to
rise and fall over hill and valley in a manner not altogether
agreeable. Besides, the vegetation diminished, the trees were less, the
luxuriant verdure of the level gave place to brown heath and ragged
stones, but, as I had not been to Matlock by this road before, I felt
consoled in the hope of soon reaching the commencement of those scenes
at once the haunts of business, pleasure and health. But as we are
taught that to reach any point of felicity many dangers and fatigues
must be encountered, so, in the approach to Matlock, a gloomy variety
presents itself. From the tops of the rude, misshapen masses, some of
which are of great height, a great extent of country spreads before
you, studded with Hardwicke, Bolsover, Chesterfield, Wingerworth, etc.
While I remained on the summit the air was sweet and refreshing ; I
experienced the reviving scents accumulated from myriads of plants. The
valleys afford nothing but dust and a most intolerable concentrated
heat. The stone walls, too, break the little circulation of air that
would otherwise prevail. So desolate is this part of Derbyshire, that
for some miles I saw but two or three habitations. What, indeed, but
extreme wretchedness could induce a person to live exposed to the keen
northern blasts that whirl round those bleak rocks After descending an
almost endless hill, the road makes an elbow, leaving Ashover Church to
the left, which peeps beautifully among a group of trees; and here, for
a mile or two, Nature gives a rough sketch of what she intends at
Matlock. The right side of the road (which now ascends) is moderately
level, scattered with cottages and trees; the left, a bold rock adorned
with many trees; now the road this rock closing forms a dark passage,
composed of houses, trees and rocks, cool and refreshing after a barren
ride of upwards of eight miles. Here again the traveller seems to leave
the cheerful society of man ; he plunges at once into a desert - not a
tree or a bush to relieve the black waving horizon. To make the scene
still more gloomy, the clouds grew dark, the sun assumed a fiery red,
and, as I rode, dismal tolling of a large bell saluted my ears. Not a
mortal near me, the evening approaching; but that I was certain Matlock
was not more than two miles before me, I should have been tempted to
return, were it only for the comfort of again seeing a living creature
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Besides my horse. As the
ground I was on was much higher than any of the hills at Matlock, I was
at once surprised and delighted with a grand and awful scene that
expanded below me ; all the rich profusion of wild Nature thrown
together in an assemblage of objects the most sublime. To heighten the
view, the Torr and rocks near it were covered with crowds of people.
Never did man appear to me before in so humiliating a state; contrasted
with the vast piles of rock and mountain, he seemed diminished to a
spec, an atom. My curiosity was raised to account for this, I nearly
said, phenomenon : crowds on the summits of places almost inaccessible,
never visited but by an adventurous traveller or unlucky boy.
Sometimes, indeed, a straggling cow will advance to the verge of the
rocks and snuff the air; once I observed one with its fore-feet so near
the edge of the Torr that its neck and breast were visible from the
road beneath. After viewing with delight this assemblage of Nature's
works I began to descend. The way was now lined with houses, and at
each step it was amusing to observe Matlock hills rising into
consequence till, reaching the bridge, they disappear ; when turning
you view the road you have passed winding up an uncultivated rugged
hill, intersected by stone walls. The bridge is plain, strong and in
good repair. Much cannot be said of the town : the houses are
comfortable, but much scattered; the church is plain, except the tower,
which is rather handsome. Its situation is fine, on top of a
considerable precipice; many trees grow on the abrupt adge and at the
bottom. Upon passing the river, you enter valley in which it glides;
each step adds to the beauty of the scene. The road winds close on the
river, sometimes hid by a group of trees. The boathouse, placed under a
rock and overgrown with foliage, must not pass unnoticed, on viewing
the vast and extended wall which towers tremendous before you, unshaken
by time, though not impervious to persevering man; for many of the
chasms in this pile afford passages to mines, some worked, some
neglected. To the right, as you proceed, the hill rises to a great
height, nearly uninterrupted by rocks, while the opposite side makes an
acute angle, near which is the High Torr. This rock is of an amazing
height, and nearly perpendicular; it is pointed at top. For a very
great depth this rock is quite bare, and much smoother than any round
it; the descent then becomes less abrupt. At the foot a mine is worked,
which penetrates a great distance; a shaft meets it from the surface,
back to the Torr. The road was now nearly impassable from the crowds of
people and carriages ; for Sir Richard Arkwright's funeral passed the
Torr for Matlock Church, where he is to lie till a chapel now erecting,
and begun by him, shall be finished. I no longer wondered at people on
the rocks; a better opportunity of judging the population of this place
could not have offered, and it is surprisingly great. The ceremony was
conducted with much pomp, and,
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as nearly as I can
remember, was thus: A coach and four with the clergy; another with the
pall-bearers; the hearse, covered with escutcheons, surrounded by
mutes, followed ; then the horse of the deceased, led by a servant; the
relations, and about fifteen or twenty carriages, closed the
procession, which was perhaps half a mile in length.
The evening was gloomy,
and the solemn stillness that reigned was only interrupted by the
rumbling of the carriages and the gentle murmurs of the river; and as
they passed, the echo of the Torr gently returned the sound. The whole
was so rich and uncommon that I continued to gaze till a turn in the
road closed the whole…..
Such a variety is there
at this place that a particular description is next to impossible.
Imagine yourself on the hill, the river beneath, numberless trees in
all the various forms that an obstructing rock or a want of support can
occasion, a white rock towering above you; the road, now leading to
Cromford, makes a sudden turn close to it; a cotton-mill, with a neat
little turret, surrounded by trees, the massy wheel turning slowly, the
water foaming from it ; at some distance, Sir R. A. Arkwright's house,
like a vast castle, with its keep, etc., all embattled; farther, his
mills, Cromford Bridge, and the new chapel; behind, a chain of hills,
partly covered with wood, opposite the house a huge rock, fantastically
adorned with shrubs and trees; through this rock the road is carried
with much labour. Such is the scene on leaving Matlock. Proceeding, a
long rough hill, lined by new stone houses, makes the traveller regret
what he has left. Much to Sir Richard's credit, those habitations are
most comfortable. And, if one may judge of prosperity by the insolence
met with on this hill (from those who had been to gape at the funeral),
surely Cromford is a happy place; but let it be understood, that I
believe the holiday had produced this redundancy of wit. After an
unpleasant ride over rough ways, which still are compensated by the
rich views of Matlock and Sir Richard Arkwright's house, I arrived at
Hopton, the hospitable mansion of Mr. Gell, much pleased with is my
route. ...
J.
P. MALCOLM
[1795, Part
II, p. 657.]
Permit me to present to your readers a view of that stupendous rock,
the Torr at Matlock (Plate III., Fig. 3). ...J. P. M.
(1793, Part
II., p. 885.]
Having seen in your entertaining miscellany some picturesque views in
Derbyshire by your ingenious correspondent J. P. Malcolm, I imagine the
enclosed drawing of some very singular rocks near Matlock Bath (see
Plate II.) may be acceptable to many of your readers.
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The traveller who wishes
to explore this curious country must quit the trodden path, climb the
cragged cliff, and penetrate the dark recess. he will there find ample
recompense for his trouble.
The rocks here
represented are upon the brow of the hill, directly behind Mason's
Bath, but the ground is enclosed with stone walls, which, together with
the bushes and brambles that surround the rocks, make the approach
rather difficult.
This curious group of
rocks evidently appears to have been separated by some violent
convulsion in nature, which has also formed several chasms: the
projection of the little rock over the great one is very remarkable.
From this spot you command a very extensive and pleasing view, I think
preferable to any in the neighbourhood of Matlock.
It may be thought
extraordinary that no path has been made from the Hall-house to this
romantic spot; but, to take off this appearance of neglect in Mr.
Mason, who is as attentive to the amusement as he to the accommodation
of his numerous guests, it is necessary to say that the ground behind
the house is not his property.
Yours,
etc., H. ROOKE
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