and quarries in the vicinity. Just out of the town is a large cotton-mill, which was built by the Arkwrights: but it is not at present at work. Bakewell is situated nearly midway between Matlock and Buxton, being about ten miles from the former and twelve from the latter town. About half-a-mile south of the town is a spring called Peat Well, which is reputed to have medicinal qualities: it stands in an inclosure, very prettily laid out in walks, and planted with shrubs, on the left of the Matlock road.

HADDON HALL.

Haddon is about a mile and a half from the Peacock; from Bakewell it is two miles. The Vale of Haddon from Bakewell to Rowsley is not alone very beautiful, but has ever been noted for the richness of its pastures. Thomas Fuller mentions it in his British Worthies' in his usual style. "The north part of Derbyshire (called the Peak) is poor above and rich beneath the ground. Yet are there some exceptions therein. Witness the fair pasture nigh Haddon (belonging to the Duke of Rutland), so incredibly battening of cattle, that one proposed to surround it with shillings to purchase it; which, because to be set side-ways (not edge-ways), were refused." There have been many bargains broken off for a far less difference.

Haddon Hall stands on an eminence, which rises bluffly from the river in the midst of broad level meadows. As its battlemented turrets are seen from among the trees, which partly conceal the extent of the building, it wears a stern and warlike aspect. But it appears more of a stronghold than it really is. It was not erected till after the period was passed when the feudal chiefs were allowed to raise castles that might at need defy an army-even of the sovereign. The oldest part of the building was erected in the fifteenth century, but the greater portion belongs to the sixteenth-and no part is later. The manor at the Domesday Survey belonged to the Avenels, from whom it passed by marriage to the Vernons and Bassetts. In the reign of Henry VI. it had fallen wholly to the share of the former. The last Vernon was the Sir George, who is said to have been the lord of thirty manors, and whose boundless hospitality and splendid style of living procured for him the soubriquet of 'King of the Peak.' On his death, which occurred in 1565, his estates were divided between his two daughters. Haddon fell to the share of Dorothy, who had married Sir John Manners, the second son of the Earl of Rutland. Their grandson became Duke of Rutland; and Haddon has since formed a portion of the Rutland property. For the last century and a half Haddon Hall has been deserted: Belvoir Castle, Leicestershire, having been made the family residence.

You cross the Wye by an old bridge, and then approach Haddon Hall by a long and rather steep slope. A lofty embattled tower is before you, the large gateway of which is the grand entrance. On passing through this you find yourself in a tolerably spacious

quadrangle, the buildings around which speak aloud of a time when state was maintained after a fashion very different indeed to that of our days, and ease and elegance were considered of but secondary consequence. This air of antiquity is so strong here, that the appearance of a retainer in buff jerkin crossing from the hall, or a sturdy steel-capped soldier stepping from the guard-room to take a survey of the intruder, would hardly excite in you any considerable astonishment. Around this court-yard are the great hall, chapel, chaplain's room, and other apartments, with a turret or two lifting their heads at the angles. Except that it is ruder and of more defensive style, as well as somewhat less altered, this first court-yard is very similar in character to that at Penshurst, described in a former part of this volume: we may therefore be spared entering into much detail respecting it—and indeed may refer to those pages for a general view of a baronial mansion of the sixteenth century. We shall thus escape some repetition, and perhaps avoid tediousness.

In this court-yard your attention is particularly called to the chaplain's room-chiefly however for its contents, for the room itself is little likely to interest the ordinary visitor. These contents are, first, some pewter dishes and platters of capacious size-for which the chaplain's room may have been thought an appropriate depository. Then there are huge jack-boots, thick leathern doublets, and cumbrous matchlocks, for which, unless literally of the church militant, the clerk would hardly seem a fitting keeper. But why the cradle should be placed here it is more difficult to guess. The visitor will notice the fire-place and stone fender. From the chaplain's room you pass naturally to the chapel. It is a curious and noteworthy building, erected before the middle of the fifteenth century-being, with the hall, the most ancient part of the edifice. It is rude and small, but most valuable as an example of the domestic chapel of that age. In the windows are some fragments of the original stained glass, bearing the date 1427. Mr. Rhodes, comparing its small size with the ample proportions of the hall, the kitchens and the larders, observes, that "the very limited capacity of the chapel, when contrasted with the magnitude of those apartments, shows, that though the good people of this establishment took up a large space in which to manage their temporal affairs, they contrived to arrange their spiritual concerns within very moderate dimensions." But this is a sort of sneer unworthy of the excellent author. The chapel was undoubtedly large enough for the establishment, and, as there was a spacious parish church close at hand, it could not be needed for any who dwelt outside the walls of the mansion. There is nothing in the size or character of the chapel to indicate that religious worship was neglected, or performed in a grudging niggardly spirit. The space in which many a modern peer and his establishment "contrive to arrange their spiritual concerns," as contrasted with the magnitude of the space devoted to their "temporal affairs," might suggest, in comparing the two, some reflections very little to the advantage of the

The great hall was erected before 1452. It is a good-sized room, though hardly so large as some other existing halls. Its appearance is imposing. The roof is open the walls to a good height are lined with panelled oak wainscoting. Round two of its sides is carried a gallery of carved oak-but this appears to be somewhat less ancient than the room. At the end of the hall is a dais, and upon it still remains the highboard. A capacious fire-place with huge andirons tell of ancient cheer. But a curious instrument in this hall speaks in coarser tones of the rudeness of ancient hospitality. It is a kind of iron handcuff, which is fastened against the screen; when any guest refused to drink off a proper potation, he was punished by locking his hand in this frame, which is fixed at some height above the head, the remainder of the draught was then poured down the arm. It was also used for the punishment of other small offences.

Now the hall is bare of furniture, only a few stags' horns being suspended from the gallery and around the walls. Yet is it in its silent deserted state singularly impressive, and suggestive to the imagination. This hall, the reader may remember, is that which Sir Walter Scott describes under the title of Martindale Hall, and makes the scene of some chapters in his 'Peveril of the Peak.' The ancient festivities of these halls have been so fully described by us already (ante, p. 10), that we need not add anything in this place. What was said there too of the change in the customs of the nobility when the practice of dining at the head of the retainers in the great hall began to be neglected, will also apply here.

From the great hall you pass to the dining-room-an apartment constructed when it had become the fashion for the lord of the house to dine in private, except on special occasions. It is probably one of the oldest of these private dining-rooms: it was erected about 1545. It must have been in its day a splendid room. The ceiling is divided into compartments by carved beams, which have been richly coloured and gilt. The walls are covered with panelled oak, a fanciful carved cornice is carried round the room, and the fire-place is profusely carved. Among other figures the portraits of Henry VII. and his Queen must not be overlooked. Here, as in the other rooms, the boar's head, the crest of the Vernons, and the peacock, that of the Manners, are of perpetual recurrence. The drawing-room, and the bed-room connected with it, are particularly interesting. In the former is a noble bay-window. Both are hung with tapestry, that will repay examination. The old furniture in these three rooms should not be passed unnoticed. The rude doors will also be observed, and it will be noted that they were all once covered by arras hangings, as some of them still are.

From these rooms you pass to the long gallery, a room 109 feet long, by 18 wide and 15 high. The room appears, of course, both narrow and low, from being so

inconvenience lessened, by three vast bay - windows which occur at regular intervals on one side of it. This apartment was built in the reign of Elizabeth, and there is a tradition that the first ball given in it was opened in person by the virgin queen. In its day this room has witnessed abundant gaiety, and one might be tempted to moralize in looking upon its present sad and fallen state. Yet even now the old walls occasionally re-echo to the sound of mirth, and "twinkling feet" trip lightly along the floor. Only a few months back the tenants and neighbours were invited to a festival and ball, under the presidency of Lord John Manners; and the youths and maidens--the Young England of the Peak-parted unwillingly from Haddon when the morning sun had risen high over the neighbouring hills. In the withdrawing-room adjoining the ball-room are some noticeable features, and also a few pictures. The floor of this long ball-room is traditionally said to have been cut from a single oak which previously grew in the park.

There are many other rooms which will be shown to the stranger, and all of which are more or less worth looking over. Some have arras hangings, and old furniture. In one is a curious antique state-bed, brought here from Belvoir Castle; the last person who slept in it, you are told, was George IV. when Prince Regent. One of the rooms bears the name of Dorothy Vernon; this lady, the daughter of the King of the Peak, "the circumstances of whose loves," it has been said, "have thrown such a romantic interest over Haddon ;" this lady, it will be remembered perhaps for the story has been told a hundred times, and in as many ways-formed a secret attachment to Sir John Manners, and, when her father refused to consent to their union, eloped with him. We are sorry to tell the story in this bald style, because the lovely one and her adventures are evidently great favourites with the fair visitants to Haddon; but as we cannot do justice to these love stories, and really do not like to spoil them, as we invariably do in telling them at length, we prefer to run the least risk by using the fewest words possible. All the tender meetings, soft vows, and pretty occurrences, our fair readers will readily supply out of their own happy imaginations. We will only add, by way of assisting them, that they show here a little oratory to which the fair one used to retire, in order to watch from the oriel the fond youth's coming, and the lattice is pointed out through which they used to exchange sighs and greetings; the spot too is shown whither they repaired for their stolen interviews; and the door by which on a festal evening the lady escaped

"Into the night, and to the arms of love."

It was through this lady thus won, let us repeat as a climax, that the Haddon property (and a good deal more) passed over to the Rutland family.

The slightest sketch of Haddon Hall would be justly condemned that left the gardens unnoticed. These, though neglected, show the tall clipped hedges and

narrow alleys which the memory always associates with the ancient hall, but which are so seldom found existing. Here, however, they have been preserved, and now happily are little likely to be destroyed. The Terrace, with its quaint balusters, is too well-known from pictures (and every recent exhibition has contained more than one) to need more than mention here. The Upper Terrace (or, if the fair reader pleases, Dorothy Vernon's Walk) has been seldomer painted or praised—but to our thinking it is, with the delicious avenue of noble limes, far more charming. We had almost forgotten to mention the view from the Eagle Tower, and from the turret at the angle. From the tower the eye ranges far and wide over a beautiful country; and then turns to gaze with fresh interest upon the roofs and courts of the ancient mansion. The least sentimental will hardly be unmoved, the least thoughtful scarcely escape from pensiveness, as the mind turns from these remains of the dim past, and looks over the hazy mountains, emblems of the dreamy future. Nay, even the outline of some slender foot, cut by admiring swain on the leads, might almost lead one to moralize, as the date inclosed within its boundary tells that the fair one and the swain are alike mouldering in the grave.

The great charm of Haddon is the almost perfect example it affords of an ancient hall. Altogether it is a noble relic perhaps the most perfect of its age, and in many respects the most interesting, as it is certainly the most picturesque. To one who passes hastily through it, often it appears but small, and rude, and mean. Yet the most indifferent will it soon interest if examined at leisure and the most skilful will it longest delight and most thoroughly stimulate. Not alone did Scott draw inspiration from Haddon: painters of every class have here acquired knowledge, and in return have done honour to the ancient pile. Cattermole has repeopled its halls; Nash illustrated the glories of its ancient state; Creswick eternized the terrace in all its vernal bloom and many another has in his manner embodied some feature of the matchless edifice. Our steel engraving represents Haddon as seen from the meadows on the Bakewell side..

CHATSWORTH.

We now proceed to a mansion which is in all respects a striking contrast to that we have just quitted. Chatsworth is perhaps on the whole the most splendid residence in England, and well deserves its title of the Palace of the Peak. In the seventeenth century, among the seven wonders of the Peak,' which were celebrated as well in poetry as by common fame, Chatsworth held an enviable place; but the Chatsworth of that day would sink into insignificance if put into comparison with the Chatsworth of the present.

From Haddon there is a way over the hills and through private grounds and roads, by which the distance to Chatsworth is not above two miles and a half. This way is very beautiful; but as it is not a public one, we shall not now pursue it. From the Peacock

a path leads alongside the Derwent quite to the mansion. The distance is somewhat more than three miles; a pleasanter way can hardly be desired. The river, which is here and there overhung with foliage (but not enough to interfere with the sport of the angler), now rushes foaming and sparkling over rocky shallows, and again seems to sleep in the deep pools. Before you stretches a long broad valley, through which the river meanders: on either side are lofty hills: in front are others, which recede into the blue distance. One or two picturesque watermills and foaming weirs are past; and then the Palace of the Peak comes full into view, its long front gleaming in the sunshine, and thrown into stronger relief by the luxuriant plantations that cover the lower slopes of the hills which rise behind it. On the heights, which are bare, and from which masses of gray crag protrude, is a tower that bears the flag of the noble owner of the domain. In front of the mansion is the river: on one side jets of water stream up aloft far above the tops of the tall elms. The broad park is spotted over with trees, standing singly or in groups; while hundreds of deer lie under their shadows, or are scattered about the open glades.

As you draw nearer, and view the house from the higher grounds, but still on the opposite side of the river, its somewhat peculiar features are seen to great advantage. (Cut, No. 4.) The building ranges north and south; its chief front facing the west. It consists of a large quadrangular pile at the south end, from which proceeds a long extension, which terminates. northwards in a lofty and massive structure. The façade, which is 750 feet in length, is peculiar, but certainly has a grand effect. The style of the edifice is Ionic, but the whole has an Italianized character. In front are extensive terraces, ornamented with statues ; and statues and vases embellish the building. You cross the river by a bridge, which is ornamented with statues sculptured by Cibber, and enter the mansion by a grand Roman arch.

The first house at Chatsworth which laid any claim to splendour was erected by the Countess of Shrewsbury, the builder of Hardwick, and also of another mansion in this county. She became possessed of Chatsworth, by her marriage with Sir William Cavendish; and she made all her husbands settle their estates, as far as they could, on her. This building was for a while the residence, or prison, of Mary Queen of Scots. In it, too, for many years, the philosopher of Malmesbury was a resident. His strange mode of life at Chatsworth has been clumsily sketched by the author of the Lives of the Cavendishes,' and with a more facile pencil by St. Evremond. Hobbes has not forgotten to sing the praises of Chatsworth in his 'De Mirabilibus Pecci:' Cotton, too, gives it honourable place in his Peak poem. During the civil war it was the scene of several encounters. When, in the reign of James II., the Earl of Devonshire, after in vain endeavouring to prevent the arbitrary proceedings of the king, retired from public life, he sought occupation in planning the erection of a new and more splendid