eroy breeches, made before the age of suspenders, finely polished with grease, and snugly buttoned about the knee, over his blue woollen stockings. A good old-fashioned pair of shoes, with sufficient leeway fore and aft, completed his costume. But men of science are above dress, and Mr. Watson must be a man of science; for he has written a quarto on mineralogy, dedicated to the Duke of Devonshire, and has moreover arranged in neat galvanic batteries all the strata to be found in the region of the Peak. He is also familiar with its botany, its history, its antiquities, and its traditions. Many of its "seven wonders" have been delineated by his pen and pencil, the productions of which grace the shelves and walls of his apartment.

With much politeness and suavity of manners, he conducted us to his cabinet, put on his glasses, set in black horn, and commenced an exhibition of all the articles which his own industry and the contributions of his friends have assembled. Druidical, Roman, Celtic, Saxon, and Gothic remains, of all descriptions, enrich a museum, which does not exceed in its dimensions eight feet by ten. Within those narrow limits may be seen the lachrymatories, in which some Cæsar or centurion bottled the tears of his mistress; fragments of stone consecrated by holy rites, in groves of oak; and implements which no antiquary can explain, disinterred from the barrows. In an adjoining room, is a cabinet of all the minerals to be found in Derbyshire. All these curiosities, natural and artificial, together with the Roman bath, the nitches of which are still perfect, Mr. Watson exhibited to us for half a crown. He also conducted us over the grounds, forming his little domain, neatly laid out, blooming with flowers, and embellished with grottos. In one of these retreats, curiously formed of spar in imitation of stalactites, with a door and seats fantastically woven of roots, 66 a noble family dined last summer." Chantrey has also visited Mr. Watson, and was delighted with a bas-relief of a sleeping infant, executed many years since by one of the ancestors of the antiquary, whose family have acquired some celebrity as artists. Specimens of their skill were subsequently met with in our rambles through the Peak.

After dinner, which had grown cold, been warmed by the cook, and become cold again during Mr. Watson's long lecture, we paid a visit to Bakewell church, which is said to be a thousand years old at least. A stammering sexton was hunted up, who keeps the keys and acts as expositor to the treasures within. In front of the antique edifice, the steeple of which was taken down a year or two since, lest it should tumble, stands a Roman relic in the form of a cross, exhibiting much rude sculpture. On entering the shattered and venerable pile, the tomb of "old Vernon, so celebrated as the proprietor of Haddon Hall, was

pointed out, and its Latin inscription deciphered. The sexton next conducted us to a dark corner, where are deposited two stone coffins; but whence they came, or whose dust once filled them, even tradition saith not. There is a half obliterated inscription on one of them which has defied the skill of the antiquary.

In another part of the church, sleep in marble, as large as life, an interesting group, wearing the costumes of the age in which they lived. The first in order is Kensley, in full armour, who fell near Tewkesbury in 1403, while fighting for Henry the IV. Not far from him Peveril of the Peak and his two wives rest side by side, with rings upon their fingers and their dress perfect. The hair of the ladies is done up much in the modern style, and their shoes are not unlike those of the present day. Cromwell's licentious soldiery mutilated their features, and broke some of their noses. In a niche upon the wall, stand George Manners and Dorothy Vernon, his wife, whom he stole out of the back door at Haddon Hall, and clandestinely married. Opposite to this group are eleven statues, consisting of Lady Grace Manners and her family, kneeling in niches, with concise passages of scripture over each of their heads.

This church presents many attractions to visitants. During our examination of its interesting monuments, at least thirty ladies and gentlemen came in on the same errand. It stands on an eminence, commanding an extensive prospect into the vale of the Wye, with the high hills rising on either side; also a distant view of Haddon Hall, with its grey battlements towering above the trees, by which it is surrounded. A walk by moon-light to the rustic bridge, which is thrown across the river at this place, concluded the toils and pleasures of the day. It was a rural, quiet, and charming scene. In the course of our rambles, we saw several Cambridge students, half a dozen of whom, under the care of a tutor, have been boarding at the hotel for the last three months, pursuing their studies, and qualifying themselves for the approaching examination.

LETTER VIII.

VALE OF THE WYE-HADDON HALL-VALE OF THE DERWENT-CHATSWORTH-CASTLE OF PEVERIL OF THE PEAK-CAVERN-MAM TOR.

July, 1825.

Early on the morning of the 26th, we set out in a post-chaise for Haddon Hall. The path leads through the Vale of the Wye. In the distance of a mile and a half, in a direct line, the meanders of the river exceed seven. It winds its way through a wide and fertile meadow, in which half a dozen pretty lasses in one group, with rosy cheeks peeping from under their straw hats, were busily employed in turning hay, the fragrance of which loaded the atmosphere.

Passing through a shattered gate and over a narrow, stone bridge, constructed like the one at Chester with bastions, we approached Haddon Hall, once the residence of the Vernons and the Rutlands; but which has not been inhabited for the last century and a half. It has a green old age, and is in such a state of preservation, that the Duke of Rutland thinks of repairing it for his residence a part of the year. Were it possible to impart to my description of this ancient hall, the lively interest, which our visit created, I am sure it would be perused with pleasure. It differs essentially from any thing we had yet seen, possessing a freshness of antiquity, and forming a sort of connecting link between feudal ages and the present time. Not only the apartments, but the furniture and decorations are entire, presenting a vivid image of domestic life as it existed several hundred years ago.

The reader must permit me to descend a little into detail, and retrace for a moment our footsteps through deserted halls. An aged portress conducted us to the heavy door of oak, furnished with an iron knocker, rude in its construction, and corroded by rust. The stone-step is nearly worn through by the feet of many thousands, who have entered since the age of the Vernons. This antique portal opens into the principal court. On the right is the porter's lodge, with the remains of the couch on which he slept. In an adjoining room are the boots, the holsters, the musket, and the hunting-jacket of the first proprietor of the Hall. At the entrance of the chapel stands a little font for the holy water, and in the interior, one of larger dimensions, for baptismal rites. The bell which once tolled for matins and for vespers is removed from its place, and the massive iron clock is in ruins, forming a part of the lumber in the gallery. Near by is a heavy and strong chest for the communion plate. On the wall are paintings of the twelve apostles, and other images before which the household knelt

in their devotions.

A dim light admitted through low Gothic windows of stained glass adds greatly to the solemnity of the Chapel. Although the day was remarkably bright, many of the passages and apartments wore the gloom of twilight. As Mrs. Radcliffe is not a favourite in our country, it may be no recommendation of this interesting relic of other ages, to state that she borrowed from it much of her imagery in "the Mysteries of Udolpho."

The dining room remains entire. A spacious gallery extends round its sides, in which spectators could assemble to witness the feast and merriment below. Over the entrance and on the walls, horns of the stag are suspended, emblematic of the pleasures of the chase. The fire-place, before which the feudal lords used to receive and entertain their friends, passing whole nights in revelry, and in the generous rites of hospitality, is of immoderate size, and the blaze of the hearth must have contributed greatly to the enjoyments of the banquet. On one side of the room stand two capacious sideboards, and on the other, a long table, benches, and a chair at the head, all of oak, and antique in their structure. In an adjoining apartment are the broad metallic plates, which I regretted had not been left upon the oaken table. So perfect is the hall, that it requires but a moderate exercise of the imagination to summon back the guests from the sleep of centuries, and to seat them at the convivial board, clothed in their ancient costumes, and participating in the fruits of the chase.

The old kitchen corresponds in its proportions and in its furniture with the dining-room. There are blocks and oaken tables, worn through in cleaving venison and other viands for the feast. A wide and deep fire-place furnishes evidence, that cooking was carried on upon a large scale. The ponderous crane and hooks still hang in the chimney. On each side of the kitchen are capacious larders and pantries, suited to the profuse hospitality in the age of the Vernons.

We were conducted successively through the sitting rooms, the bedchambers, and dancing hall, the walls of which are hung with tapestry, curiously wrought by the ladies of the ancient family; with escutcheons of the Manners and the Rutlands; with the portraits of kings and heroes; and with many dusty paintings, chiefly scripture pieces. The assembly-room is of comparatively recent origin. It was built in the time of Elizabeth, three or four hundred years after some part of the Hall. It is ornamented with a likeness of the virgin Queen, and of Lady Grace Manners, aunt of the first duke of Rutland. The floor is of oak, said to be made entirely from one tree, and the circular flight of steps leading to it, of the roots. It sends back a hollow echo to the footsteps and to the voice; and as we paced beneath its vaulted

roof, and by its Gothic windows, through which the green ivy peeps, fancy recalled the scenes of gaiety which were here once exhibited, when music resounded through the hall, and the beauties of the sixteenth century led down the mazy dance.

The most ancient part of the venerable pile, is the castle or tower, which was erected in the time of king John. It has a battlement at top, for purposes of defence. It is now in a state of partial dilapidation, some of the stone steps having fallen, and their places being supplied by those of wood. We climbed to the very summit, which commands a view of the rural Vale of the Wye, and of the surrounding country. It was about noon, and the landscape around wore the stillness and langour of a summer day. The hay-makers had sought the shade, and the herds of cattle the stream, for refreshment. At our feet, the river, after passing quietly beneath the arches of two stone bridges, hurries down a rocky bed, forming a beautiful cascade, the murmurs of which echo through the desolate apartments of the hall. On the north, the prospect is limited by the high ridge of land, on the side of which the edifice stands, and by the grove of aged oaks, elms, and yews which cover its brow.

After remaining half an hour upon this giddy and crazy monument of other ages, where the foot treads with involuntary caution, we groped our way back through the winding passages, rendered darker by having our eyes dazzled with the splendid prospect above, and were conducted by the guide, in waiting below, to the state bed-room. The couch is hung with antique tapestry, and its ornaments are rich in specimens of embroidery. Over the fire-place is a representation of Orpheus, charming the listening woods with the tones of his lyre; and the walls are adorned with a variety of pictures. Having a strong curiosity to enjoy a moon-light view from the tower, and to indulge in a dream of gone-by days, we requested of the old lady permission to remain for the night in Haddon Hall. She said she would not do such a thing for the world; although in her opinion, one would have no reason to fear the ghosts, which some visiters supposed might haunt these desolate ruins.

We had a fine promenade through the pleasure grounds, enclosed with high walls, and extending to the banks of the Wye, where there is a beautiful bower close by the cascade. It is a cool and sequestered retreat, its quiet being disturbed by no other noise than the murmur of the water-fall. Higher up the acclivity was the favourite walk of Dorothy Vernon, bordered on either hand by aged trees, the branches of which are thickly interwoven, and their trunks covered with ivy. At one end, is the entrance to the hall, by a door through which Dorothy