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 28th, 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 have 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 ad

joining 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 bed-chambers, 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. ness of the virgin Queen, and of the first duke of Rutland. made entirely from one tree, and the circular flight of steps leading to it, of the roots.

It is ornamented with a likeof Lady Grace Manners, aunt The floor is of oak, said to be

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.

It is now

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. 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 languor of a summer day. The haymakers 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 a 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 moonlight 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 escaped when she married Manners; and its portals are said never to have been opened since that

event.

Our guide gave each of us leave to gather a buoquet of the moss-rose, and other flowers blooming in the ancient court, intermingled with box, which was left there one hundred and fifty years ago, and yet looks vigorous and thrifty. These fragrant spoils fragile as they are, have been carefully preserved, and will be borne across the Atlantic, as memorials of a place which probably afforded us a higher pleasure, than its noble tenants ever enjoyed, when they made it the seat of hospitality, music, and mirth.

From Haddon Hall, our ride was continued to Chatsworth, the celebrated residence of the Duke of Devonshire, and still more celebrated, as the place where Mary Queen of Scots was long imprisoned. I will freely confess, that the latter circumstance, while it gave double interest to our visit, prejudiced me very strongly against the seat of his Grace, the image of the unfortunate queen haunting me at every step through his beautiful grounds.

A high ridge of land divides the estates of the Duke of Rutland from those of the Duke of Devonshire, at the east

ern extremity of which is the junction of the Wye and the Derwent. The opening into the vale of the latter is certainly very beautiful, presenting a rich and varied landscape, the repose of which was charming at the hour we arrived, the fleecy clouds resting upon the circumjacent hills, and the tenants of the park and fields reclining in the groves, or cooling themselves in the bright waters of the rivulet. A herd of twelve hundred deer were seen feeding upon the lawn. The aspect of the valley is extremely rural and romantic. On the left bank, the scenery is rugged, the cliffs appearing at intervals, and behind them stretches an extensive moor, the purple surface of which, when viewed at a distance, strongly resembles the sea. The hills on the opposite side, slope with a gentle declivity to the stream, and are covered with woods and green pastures to their summits. We rode through the Park and the little village of Endesor where there is a small Gothic church, in which sleeps the first Duke of Devonshire. Here also is a monument, with a long Latin inscription, erected by Mary Queen of Scots, to commemorate the fidelity and attachment of an old servant, who died while she was a prisoner at this place. The antique edifice, rising above the thatched roofs of the houses, gives variety to the landscape. A stone bridge crosses the Derwent, and conducts to the Palace. On the left, as you approach, is a circular tower or terrace, covered with earth and planted with trees and shrubbery. It was a favourite walk

of the unfortunate Mary. The branches of an aged yew, under which perhaps she used to repose, overhang the walls, twigs of which were brought away by us as a memento of the spot.

Notwithstanding the immense sums of money, which have been squandered upon Chatsworth Hall, I am compelled to think much of the sumptuous pile in bad taste, and its beauty by no means commensurate with its expense. There is no point of view from which the edifice has an appearance of grandeur. The grounds immediately in front, at present naked of trees and covered with rubbish, together with the scaffolding of another wing, which is now going up, detract very much from the exterior. Another deduction is to be found in the colour of the stone, which is a light yellow, obtained from a quarry on the Duke's estate at the distance of a mile or two from the house. The structure is of the Ionic order, with a terrace covered with a great variety of statues,