SECTION XII.

Willersley House.---The late Sir Richard Arkwright.---Mouse Hole Mine. ---Side Mine.--- Riber Top.--- Moonlight in Matlock Dale.---Winter Excursion to Matlock.---Canova's Statue of the Mother of Buonaparte ---his Bust of Laura.---Snow Scenery at Matlock.

THE

HE gardens, the grounds, and the walks about Willersley House, once the residence of Sir Richard Arkwright, and now of his eldest son, are only open to the public two days in the week, namely, Monday and Thursday; they are, however, always attractive, and they add to the pleasures, and vary the amusements of the company, that resort to Matlock Bath. The house is not shewn, though I understand it contains several good pictures, particularly a lake scene, by Wright of Derby. The exclusion of promiscuous visitors from the interior of Willersley House is no doubt a necessary and proper arrangement; the comfort of a domestic family, at a place so crowded with strangers as Matlock often is, could not otherwise be provided for. The walks about this delightful residence are carried along steep acclivities, amongst woods and plantations, that occasionally admit some pleasing vista views of the surrounding country. In their progress from the river's brink to the craggy summit of Wild Cat Tor, some new and unexpected beauty is exhibited at every turn, and from that romantic and fearful eminence the sublime scenery of Matlock Dale is revealed in all its glory.

The late Sir Richard Arkwright, the builder of Willersley House, and the founder of a wealthy family, was a man of great mechanical talent, industry, and perseverance: he may indeed be regarded as the parent of those improvements in the spinning of cotton, which have converted machines into men, and almost superseded the necessity of manual labour. This extraordinary man, who was the youngest son of thirteen children, was a native of Preston in Lancashire. His parents were poor, and in early life he was apprenticed to a barber, a trade which he for some time followed at Wirksworth, in Derbyshire. About the time that he first turned his attention to mechanics, he formed an acquaintance with a clock-maker at Warrington, of the name of Kay in conjunction with this man, the machine for which he first obtained a patent was made: other improvements succeeded; and, as he penetrated more deeply into the arcana of mechanism, and became familiarized to its powers, he found himself in the situation of one who, having attained a distant horizon, beholds another still more remote, but equally accessible, spread before him. The exclusive use of his inventions he secured by letters patent, which did not always prove invulnerable. An inadequate specification annulled his right in one instance; and in another, the Court of King's Bench cancelled the patent, which he had obtained, on the ground of his not being the original inventor. Yet, notwithstanding the opposition his success excited, and the litigation in which he was involved, he amassed a princely fortune; and, on presenting an address to his late Majesty, in the year 1786, when he served the office of Sheriff of the County of Derby, the honour of knighthood was conferred upon him. At this time his health was fast declining, and the close of his existence was imbittered with infirmity and disease. He died at Cromford, on the third of August, 1792, in the 60th year of his age.

From Willersley House, we rambled over the hills to the village of Matlock; and on our way there, we passed a small lead mine, called Mouse Hole, where we found one poor solitary individual, apparently about eighty years of age, industriously pursuing his daily avocation. On inquiry, he told us that he worked the mine alone. He first let down a bucket, in which he put the ore---descended the shaft in the usual way---toiled until he had filled the measure---then clambering out again, he drew up the produce, and deposited it in his little hovel at the mouth of the mine. Thus he continued the same routine of operations day after day, and year after year, with no one to assist him in his labours. The dull unvarying monotony of this man's employment in no way affected his spirits; though old and poor, he was naturally cheerful; his little mine afforded him but a scanty subsistence---yet he observed, bad as it was, it was his best friend, for it had supplied all his wants, which were now so very few, "that it was no' much matter whether the old mine turned out good or ill." I could go to buffets with myself, for having at any time indulged in a repining spirit, when I think of this poor miner, delving in his little mouse-hole den, through eighty years of existence, without a feeling of discontent.

Proceeding onward, we came to a mine of more importance: its name is Side Mine---and we were told by the workmen, that the lead obtained here is dug out of a toadstone stratum, and that the vein they were then pursuing was rich in ore. We procured specimens, which we regarded as conclusive in favour of their statement; but we were afterwards informed, that Mr. Mawe, and other scientific individuals, contend, that the matrix of the ore in this mine is limestone, which, being in a state of decomposition, has so much the appearance

of toadstone, as to deceive common observers. Mr. White Watson, of Bakewell, who has made the various strata of his native country his peculiar study, and the miners, who may be presumed to be well acquainted with a material that so frequently occurs, strenuously maintain the former hypothesis, in opposition to the opinion of Mr. Mawe. The Seven Rakes Mine, which is situated on the contrary side of the river, on the north-east slope of Masson, is worked in the same stratum, and is equally productive of lead ore.

In our walk to Matlock, we passed along the side of the hill to Riber Top, where there is a singular assemblage of stones, supposed to have been originally a druidical altar; some antiquaries say, a cromlech, which appears more probable: they are called Hirst Stones, and are not unworthy of a visit---since those who feel no interest in these ancient reliques, will be amply repaid for the toil and trouble of ascending this eminence by the prospect it commands.

Evening was now far advanced; and we returned by the village of Matlock, and thence through its romantic dale to our hotel at the baths---where, on our arrival, we found the promenades deserted--the lights were glimmering through the trees, and the musicians at the Old Bath were tuning their instruments for the evening's assembly.

About half-past ten o'clock, we anticipated the rising of the moon; and, as I had long wished to witness the effect of a fine moonlight night in Matlock Dale, my wishes were now likely to be soon gratified. The deep shadows of night lay upon the dale, and the obscurity that prevailed was full of grandeur. Shortly the moon rose over the

summit of Wild Cat Tor, and her softened light, thrown on the broad front of Masson, only rendered the darkness below still more visible. We watched the progressive ascent of the chaste orb of eve, and felt a delightful interest in marking the western side of the dale, gradually losing its darkness, as she rose above the opposite hills: it was a beauteous picture, and I gladly resigned myself to the illusions it produced. A stillness and a silence, that were felt, pervaded the dale, save that, as we passed the New Bath, the rush of the water from the cascade, near the mills below, came upon the ear. It was impossible, at this particular time, not to feel delighted with a sound, that, during the day, when a multiplicity of busy objects were abroad, we had passed unnoticed.

Nature is full of beautiful sounds; the rush of a river---the lapse of a gentle current---the hum of the bee amongst the flowers---the chirp of the grasshopper---the low of cattle in the fields---the neighing of the horse as he roams at large---and, perhaps more than all, the song of the robin, when in autumn he pours his sweetest strains from among the fading leaves of the season---are sounds that, in connexion with the living pictures nature spreads before us with a lavish hand, have a powerful influence on the mind.

The following morning we bade adieu to Matlock, where we terminated a pleasant summer's excursion.

Anxious to behold the scenery of this romantic place, when the trees and rocks, and every object in the dale, were covered with snow, I visited it on the first day of the year 1820. The frost, during the