SECTION X.

Druidical Circle on Hartle Moor. ·Snake Stones.

Mock

Beggar Hall. - Cratcliff Tor.- Winster. - Birchover. — Rowtor Rocks. View from the Road near Birchover.

ON Hartle Moor, and within a few hundred paces of Mock Beggar Hall, we stopped at the remains of a Druidical Circle, which Major Rooke and Mr. Bray have previously noticed; the latter of whom mentions it as an object he had not seen. This Circle is about forty yards in circumference, and it is composed of seven large stones, that appear to have been originally from ten to twelve feet high; three of them only are now standing, and one has been separated from its associates by the intervention of a rude stone wall. This Druidical temple is about a mile and a half from Stanton Moor, where a similar circle, consisting of nine upright stones, denominated the Nine Ladies, may still be seen: near this remain several barrows have been opened, when a number of “glass beads, with orifices not larger than the tip of a tobacco-pipe," were found within them. Many of these beads have been occasionally met with in different parts of Derbyshire; their colours are various; some of them are transparent, others are an opaque purple; and they are understood to have been used by the Druids as amulets, or worn by them as a badge of distinction.

In some parts of the kingdom these beads are called Snake Stones, and Camden tells us, that there is a curious superstitión relative to their formation still existing, both in Wales and Cornwall: he says, "It is there the common opinion of the vulgar, that about Midsummer Eve (though in the time they do not all agree) it is usual for snakes to meet in companies, and that, by joining heads together, and hissing, a kind of bubble is formed like a ring about the head of one of them, which the rest, by continual hissing, blow on until it comes off at the tail, and then it immediately hardens, and resembles a glass

ring, which whoever finds (as some old women and children are persuaded) shall prosper in all his undertakings. The rings thus generated are called Gleinen Nadroedh; in English, SNAKE STONES." Camden, vol. ii. p. 64.

An unfrequented path of another quarter of a mile led us to the base of Mock Beggar Hall, a curious assemblage of sand-stone rocks thrown confusedly together, yet so arranged as to form at a distance a strong resemblance to a regular building, with a huge chimney at each extremity; hence the name which this mass of rocks has obtained: the stony towers at each end are called Robin Hood's Stride.

On the same range of hill, a little on our left, lay Cratcliff Tor, a gloomy perpendicular rock of considerable altitude; and, when seen from some situations in the valley below, as picturesque an object as ever adorned the foreground of a landscape. Major Rooke mentions having seen four rock basons on the top of this tor, but, owing either to a neglect of our memorandums, or a misconception of our instructions, we did not observe them; from the same cause we omitted visiting the Hermit's Cave at the foot of Cratcliff. At the east end of a cavern in this rock, the devotee, by whom it is said to have been inhabited, has rudely sculptured in bas relief the figure of our Saviour on the Cross, a great part of which is now remaining. A humble seat and a niche, that might contain some domestic utensils, are hewn out of the rock; and it seems highly probable, that some melancholy man once made this solitary and cheerless cave his dwelling; but at what period, and by whom it was inhabited, even the beldame tradition is silent.

From Cratcliff we crossed the Ashbourn Road to Rowtor Rocks, an assemblage of huge blocks of gritstone, tumbled confusedly together by the hand of nature in one mighty pile. These singular rocks are situated on the southern side of Stanton Moor, and close by the village of Birchover. At a short distance, they appear only a heap of stones; when at their base, they are terrific masses, that seem not to be permanently fixed in their positions, but so slightly connected with each other, and so apparently in the act of falling, as to create an apprehension that they may yet descend with one tremendous crash into the vale below. Some of these blocks lie horizontally, some are perpendicular, and others are placed in every possible degree of obliquity. The intricacies amongst them may be threaded with a little toil and difficulty, but

scarcely without dread; for it is not easy to suppose, that any thing put so carelessly together can be very secure.

Some writers have supposed that these immense stones have been piled up by human exertion, a supposition extremely improbable, and not all supported by appearances. The different remains about Stanton Moor, the Circle in Nine Stones Close, and Arber-Low, and the turrets on the two extremities of Grained Tor, are all evidences that this part of Derbyshire was once the resort of the Druids; and if they ever used this gloomy pile at Birchover as a place of worship and of sacrifice, which they are represented to have done, they may probably have added a few blocks to the mass which nature had prepared for their purpose, and thereby increased the altitude of Rowter; but that the whole structure is the contrivance and the work of man is too incredible to be believed. The rocking stones at this place, which Pilkington mentions as being so nicely poised that a child might easily give them a vibratory motion, are now immoveable.

As we passed along the road that leads from Birchover into the valley, near Hartle Brook, we paused awhile to gaze upon the extraordinary group of rocks that is here included in one little picture. Rowter was on our right; Bradley Tor, another dark mass of rocks, was on our left; Cratcliff rocks, Mock Beggar's Hall, and Durwood Tor, lay in mid distance in the space between: beyond these, we had a glimpse of some distant hills, apparently as unsubstantial and as shadowy as the clouds of which they seemed to form a part. Evening was fast approaching; a softened radiance crested the eminences before us, and the tops of the trees that grow at the base, and about the summit of Cratcliff, glowed with some vivid touches of light. The foreground where we stood, and the valley below, were in deep shadow, but the rocks above were gleaming with the bright effulgence of the setting sun.

Winster, a small market-town, about a mile from Cratcliff Tor, was our next resting-place. This little town runs along the side of a steep eminence; and from a mass of disjointed rocks in the pastures above, we had a complete bird's-eye view into it. The buildings, partly thatched and partly covered with slate-stone, are scattered irregularly over the hill; and as we looked down upon the town, the orchards and gardens, filled with fruit and flowers, and the roofs of the houses, thickly bestrewn with moss and tufts of

bright yellow stone-crop, were spread at our feet like figures on a carpet. From any other situation, Winster appears an uninteresting assemblage of limestone cottages. From Bank Pastures Tor we had an extensive view over a great part of the Peak district: almost every place, as I traced it out in distance, revived a series of pleasing recollections; and the mind, with a wonderful rapidity, and a clearness and distinctness of perception hardly to be accounted for, moved over the scene. The country was spread like a map before me; the hills, the vallies, the mountains, and the moors, that I so frequently had traversed, were all included within the ample landscape; and, as my eye wandered over its surface, I felt a peculiar pleasure in recognising the tract of my former ex

cursions.

Winster is but a small town, and its present appearance indicates declining prosperity. It is chiefly inhabited by miners, who, for a series of years, have been pursuing an unthrifty calling, with but little prospect of improvement. It had once a good weekly market, and an annual fair; both of which seem to be progressively passing from neglect into total disuse.

A little more than thirty years ago a singular occurrence took place here. A punchinello was exhibiting his tricks in the lower apartments of a house where gunpowder was kept for the use of the miners in the rooms above; some particles took fire, and instantaneously communicated with the remainder of a barrel of powder, which had been left carelessly open; a terrible explosion ensued, and the whole of the upper rooms, and the roof of the house, were blown to atoms, and scattered about in every direction, while the people below, in number about sixty or seventy, remained unhurt.

Whilst at Winster, we visited the church, a small structure, which appeared to us not of sufficient capacity for the place and the neighbourhood around. The church-yard too is a contracted spot, and the graves seem crowded together in a manner very unusual in a small country town: two sides of it are bounded with a plantation of spreading limes, and several fine yews grow near them: this funereal tree is the cypress of the Peak of Derbyshire; there is scarcely a burial-place in any part of it that is not shadowed with its branches, and in many places the trees are so truly venerable and full of years, that they appear coeval with the church itself.

The majority of the people in the northern divisions of

Derbyshire are strongly attached to musical pursuits: every village where a church is found has a band of choristers; and where a lone cottage is situated, even in the wildest parts of the Peak, some of its inmates, and often the whole family, cultivate a taste for this delightful science; and often, in the practice of it, wile away the otherwise tedious hours of a long winter's night. Nor are the inhabitants of the town of Winster less influenced by the harmony of sweet sounds; they have a choir of singers, a band of instrumental performers, and an organ in the church, which they obtained by the relinquishment of as benevolent an offer as any individual ever made to the place of his birth.

Winster is part of a great mineral district; and the number of mines sunk and excavated in and near the place, had drained the springs, and left the inhabitants without water for domestic purposes. Their only supply of this necessary article of life was from a well nearly one mile distant from the town. Water was therefore a desideratum with the good people of Winster; and an organ for the church, the attainment of which they had long had in contemplation, was another. Thus situated, a gentleman in the neighbourhood involved them in considerable perplexity, by proposing either to conduct the water in pipes from the well into the town at his own expence; or, in lieu thereof, if they preferred it, to make them a present of an organ. Water was certainly a great good, and a plenteous supply of it much to be desired: in their estimation music was not less so. They knew the inconvenience of trudging a mile up-hill in all weathers to procure water, and they were anxious for a remedy; they longed, too, to hear the breathings of the organ within the walls of their church: how, therefore, were they to decide? It is highly probable that they hesitated and balanced long before they determined; at length, however, they made the important choice," and music won the cause.' Perhaps it would be difficult to find a more decided proof of either a musical taste, or a musical mania, than this brief anecdote affords.

During our short stay at Winster we made a short excursion to the vicinity of Grange Mill, where we had been informed we should have an opportunity of exploring the supposed crater of an extinct volcano. At the place pointed out the upper strata appear to have been rent asunder by a strong power from beneath. This reputed crater is an irregularly-formed oval of nearly two miles in circumference: the

to us,