FF

!U

Derbyshire

ATHERINGS

FUND OF DELIGHT

FOR THE

ANTIQUARY, THE HISTORIAN, THE TOPOGRAPHER, THE BIOGRAPHER,

AND THE GENERAL READER,

CONTAINING

portraits itnb P^cmoirs of Ormincnt Jlutifacs anir €cm\hu Cljaructcrs of tijt Countg of Pcrbn,

VIEWS OF REMARKABLE PLACES, ANTIQUITIES, RELICS, FAC-SIMILES OF AUTOGRAPH LETTERS, ANCIENT DOCUMENTS, ANECDOTES, &c., &c.

BY

JOSEPH BARLOW ROBINSON,

SCULPTOR, DERBY.

* Books, dreams arc both a world ; and books, wc know. Are a substantial world, both pure and good ; Round which, with tendrils strong as flesh and blood, Our pastime and our happiness may grow." — Wohdswokth.

*' To ray unfolding lend a gracious car." — Shakesi-eake.

LONDON: J. R. SMITH, 36, SOIIO SQUARE.

Derdv: Messrs. Bemrose & Sons, Messrs. Clulow & Son, Mr. R. Keene, Messrs. W. & W. Pike, Mr. I' 1'i;ai., Messrs. Wilki.ns & lii.Lis, Mr. Rowdottom, Mr. L. Brookes, and tub Author, Mr. J. B. Rouinson, Uerwent Sireet.

MDCCCLXVI.

n

pi

11=.^

Success in Life. — If Biography teaches anything, it teaches this : that there has been a golden moment in the lives of most men, which genius has been enabled to seize and to employ ; that there is a tide in the affairs of men, which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune. The sculptor Thor\»'aldsen has packed up his few belongings, and is about to leave Rome for Denmark. His life looks blank enough to him. His profession seems to be a great mistake. Nobody will buy his statues, or encourage the genius which he had fondly hoped was in him. But that very day an Englishman chanced to enter his studio, had the ability to recognize his talent, and the money to purchase his great statue, the Jason. The time and the man had come, and Thorwaldsen's fortune was made. And that golden opportunity will come to you, also, my young friend ; only take care that you are ready for it, when it does come. The stone that is fit for the wall does not lie long in the ditch. — Macmilian.

\

PRINTED AND LITHOGRAPHED BV BEMROSE AND SONS, 21, PATERNOSTER ROW, LOXDOK ; AND DERBY.

"» o^KtfAKA

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CONTENTS.
	PAGE		PAGE
List of Subscribers . . . .	5	God ley, Samuel - - - .	- 75
Preface - - . . .	9	Hallam, John	91
		Harrison, Samuel	- 54
Ancient Documents - . . .	69
Antique Silver Ornament from Dale Abbey	4"	High Peak Hospitality	76
Ashborne, Prisoners of War at -	28	Incised Cross Slab from Horsley Castle	- 58
A Wonderful Eater - - - -	41
		James, Abraham	93
Bakewell Church, Inscription on the I3ells of -	22	Measham Volunteer Infantry, 1798	- 56
Belper Joe, or Joseph Houghton	89	Millington, Rowland, alias Old Rowley	93
Birchover, Inscription on Old House at	58
Birkin, Richard ... -	70	New way of settling Old Scores	- 77
Brotherton, Joseph, M.P.	42	Nightingale, Florence	25
		Nocturnal Visitor	47
Castleton Churchwarden's Accounts, 17 14 -	21	Novel Mode of Raising a Glass of Grog	75
Chantrey, Sir Francis, R.A.-	13
Chesterfield, Original Letters of Earl of	45	Okerthorp, Accompts of George Allton,	Head-
Curious old Apothecary's Bill for Medicine	40	borrow of, 1 7 1 6	65
Curious Advertisement	77	Our (}arden . . . .	- 68
Curzon, Ca])tain, and his Horse	46	Outram, Sir James -	17
Daft Sammy, of Casdeton •	102	Palmerston, Lord, Anecdote of-	- 64
Barley Dale, a Tradition of -	57	Prince, Edward	85
Derbyshire Dales . . . .	29	Risley Hall - . . .	- 51
Wit	4>	Romance in Real Life	47
Engraving on Black Marble	53	Roman Samian Ware -	- 58
Fasting Damsel, The - . - .	'05	Slack, Samuel	66
Flamstead, John ....	48	Slater, Samuel - - - ;	- 73
Flowers of Poesy ....	76	South Wingfield Manor House	30
Foster, Edward - . . .	81	Staine.sby, Edward, alias " Rabbi "	- 98
Founders of Cotton Manufacture in Derbyshire-		Strange Farewell Address •	7f>
Sir Richard Arkwright -	59	Turner, Jacky . - . -	- 104
Jedediah Slrutt - - . -	60
Evans, of Darley	62	Wragge, George, Esq.	23
Samuel Oldknow -	62
William Radcliffe	62

LIST OF SUBSCRIBERS

Abell, Mr. William, Brook Street Iron Works, Derby.

Allen, R. R., Esq., Surgeon, Bclper.

Ackroyd, Edward, Esq., F.S.A., Bank Field, Halifax.

Appelbee, R., Esq., Belper SchooL

Anderdon, Captain, Gay Street, Bath.

Austin, Jlr. Thomas, Superintendent Cattle Market, Derby.

Anderson, Mr. J., Union House, Belper.

Adsetts, Mr. William, Duffield.

Alton, Mr. George, York Hotel, Derby.

AIlsop, Mr. William, Farmer, Postern.

Abrahart, Mr. M., London Street, Derby.

Ault, Mr. William, Kedleston Inn.

Argile, Mr. George, Heage Hall.

Belper, The Right Hon. Lord, Kingston Hall.

Bass, Michael Thomas, Esq., M.P., Rangemoor.

Ball, Thomas, Esq., Mayor of Nottingham.

Bosworth, Rev. Joseph, D.D., of Christ Church, and Pro- fessor of Anglo-Saxon, Oxford, F.R.S., F.S.A., &c.. Rector of Water Stratford, Bucks.

Brentnall, Mr. Councillor, Derby.

Blackwell, John, Esq., Matlock Mills.

Birkin, Richard, Esq., J.P., Aspley Hall, Nottingham.

Bourne, J. H., Esq., Denby Pottery.

Busby, C. S. B., Esq., Coroner, Chesterfield.

Bakewell, Mr. C. H., Rotten Row, Derby.

Bemrosc, Mr. H. II., Iron Gate, Derby.

Bum, Mr. H., Midland Railway, Derby.

Bloor, John, Esq., Tutbury.

Bakewell and High Peak Institute.

Buckley, Rev. W. A., M.A., Rector of Middleton Cheney, Northamptonshire.

Basford, Mr. John, Macklin Street, Derby.

Brown, John, Esq., Atlas Works, Sheffield.

Brown, Mr. A. H., King Street, Bclper.

Broughall, Mr. Councillor, Derby.

Bottom, Mr. James, Franchise Street, Derby.

Bottom, Rev. F., New York, United States.

Bottom, Mr. George, Sherbrooke, Lower Canada.

Brindley, Mr. William, Tenant Street, Derby.

Borough, John, Esq., Solicitor, Derby.

Bannister, Rev. John, M.A., St. Day, Cornwall.

Bates, Mr. Joseph, Park Street, Derby.

Brookes, Mr. L., Bookseller, Derby.

Barlow, Mr. William, Park Street, Belper.

Bramlcy, Mr. Joseph, Station-Master, Syston.

Booth, Mr. Robert, Butts, Helper.

Barton, Mr. William, Builder, Melbourne.

Bailey, Mr. George, Friar Gate, Derby. Broadhead, Mr. F. D., Crompton Terrace, Derby. Brassington, Mr. J., Market Place, Derby. Brookhouse, Mr. Robert, Morledge, Derby. Berisford, Mr. James, Bridge Street, Belper. Bowmer, Mr. Isaac, Ridgway, near Crich. Bingham, Mr. Henry, Builder, Derby. Birley, Mr. Samuel, Ashford-in-the-Water. Bradbury, Mr. J., Traffic Street, Derby. Bower, Mr. John, Peter's Street, Derby. Bradshaw, Mr. G., Traffic Street, Derby. Bamford, Mr. William, Osmaston Road, Derby. Bottomley, Mr. George, Wardwick, Derby. Birley, Mr. George, Euckland Hollow.

Curzon, The Hon. and Rev. F., Mickleover.

Colvile, C. R., Esq., M.P., LuUington.

Cox, W. T., Esq., M.P., Spondon Hall.

Chandos-Pole, E. S., Esq., Radbourne Hall.

Cox, The late Mrs. W., Stockbrook Villa, Derby.

Curzon, N. C, Esq., Alvaston, Derby.

Curzon, William, Esq., Full Street, Derby.

Curzon, Robert, Esq., Full Street, Derby.

Coke, Richard George, Esq., Tapton Grove, Chesterfield.

Clarke, Rev. J. E., St. Michael's Vicarage, Derby.

Carr, Rev. John Edmund, The Outwoods, near Derby.

Chancellor, Rev. J., St. John's Parsonage, Derby.

Cammell, Charles, Esq., Norton Hall.

Cooper, C. H., Esq., F.S.A., Town Clerk, Cambridge.

Croome, Miss, M.A.B., Middleton Cheney.

Cartlich, Mr. Councillor, Derby.

Cartlich, Lieutenant, New Uttoxeter Road, Derby.

Croston, Mr. James, King Street, Manchester.

Clulow, Mr. George, Bookseller, Derby.

Cummings, Mr. H., Nomianton Road, Derby.

Carrington, Mr. John, .Sandybrook, Ashborne.

Cubley, Mrs. W., Oriel Terrace, Derby.

Coates, Mr. Jolm, New Road, Belper.

Cantrell, Mr. William, Peter's Street, Derby.

Clayton, Mr. Joseph, Market Place, Derby.

Crossley, Mr. John, Helper.

Cupit, Mr. John, South Wingficld Manor.

Crofts, Mr. Thomas, Market Place, Bclper.

Cartwright, Mr. J. M., Burton-on-Trent.

Copley, Mr. Thomas, King Street, Belper.

Cresswell, J. Esq., .Stanton-by-Dale.

Calvert, Mr. James, King Street, Belper.

LIST OF SUBSCRIBERS.

Devonshire, His Grace the Duke of, Chatsworth. (Two

Copies.) Dunnicliff, John, Esq., Town Clerk, Derby. Daniel-Tyssen, John Robert, Esq., F.S.A., Brighton. Darby, Henry, Esq., Wilson Street, Derby. Draycott, Mr. Councillor, Derby. Dunn, C. B. N., Esq., Surgeon, Crich. Disney, Charles C, Esq., Morley Park Ironworks, Belper. Davenport, E. C, Esq., Bank, Belper. Derby Mechanics' Institution. Dusautoy, Mr. Edward, Builder, Derby. Dobbs, Mr. John, Locko Park. Dakin, Mr. William, Miller's Dale. Deeley, Mr. S., Stone Merchant, Rowsley.

Evans, Thos. Wm., Esq., M.P., AUestree Hall.

Evans, Samuel, Esq., Darley Abbey.

Evans, Walter, Esq., West Bank, Derby.

Evans, The Misses, Darley.

Evans, S. H., Esq., College Place, Derby.

Evans, Mr. Thomas, Alfreton.

Earp, Frank, Esq., St. Peter's Vicarage, Derby.

Eastwood, Mr. Councillor, Derby.

Eddowes, C. K., Esq., Solicitor, Derby.

Ellam, Mrs., Chester Green House, Derby.

Eadson, Mr. Samuel, Wirksworth.

Eley, Mr. George, Farmer, Hazlewood.

Eley, Mr. S., Marlpool, Heanor.

Fytche, J. Lewis, Esq., F.S.A., High-Sheriff of Lincolnshire,

Tliorpe Hall, Lincolnshire, and Risley, Derbyshire. Fomian, Mr. Councillor F. J., Derby. Foley, Rev. E. W., AU Saints' Parsonage, Derby. Foxcroft, Mr., Wellfield House, Crumpsall, Manchester. Feam, S. W., Esq., Surgeon, Derby. Fox, Mr. James, Engineer, Derby. Fox, Mr. Solomon, Builder, Wirksworth. Fowkes, Mr. H., Ironfounder, Derby. Famsworth, Mr. James, Builder, Cromford. Frost, Mr. T., Ironfounder, Park Street, Derby. Frost, Mr. W., Bull Bridge, Crich. Fletcher, Mr., Masson Works, Litchurch. Forman, Mr. E., Victoria Street, Derby.

Gisbome, Mr. Alderman, Tenant Street, Derby. Gascojme, Mr. Councillor, Derby. Giles & Brookhouse, Messrs., Architects, Derby. Gamble, Mr. Councillor, Derby. German, Joseph, Esq., Friar Gate, Derby. Gregory, Mr. Wm., Victoria Street, Derby. Gregory, Mr. Thomas, Builder, Alfreton. George, Mr. Thomas, Littleover, Derby. Greaves, A. G., Esq., Surgeon, Wardwick, Derby. Greaves, E. L., Esq., Solicitor, Belper. Goodall, Mr. H., Peter's Street, Derby. Genever, Mr. Joseph, Peter's Street, Derby. Glover, Mr. Stephen, Derby. Gaskin, Mr. Thomas, Builder, Willington. Gummitt, Mr., Derby.

Godbehere, Mr. Thomas, Belper. Godber, Mr. James, South Wingfield. GeU, Mr. John, Osmaston Street, Derby. Gadsby, Mr. John, Builder, Derby. Gratton, Mr. James, Bookseller, Bakewell. Goodwin, Mr. John, Bookseller, Bakewell.

Hurt, Albert F., Esq., Alderwasley Hall.

Huish, John, Esq., Heanor Hall.

Halton, Rev. Immanuel, South Wingfield.

Hubbersty, Philip, Esq., Wirksworth.

Holmes, Arthur E., Esq., Alvaston.

Harpur, Mr. Councillor, Derby.

Hey, Rev. Robert, Rural Dean, Belper.

Hay^vood, F. M., Esq., SoUcitor, Derby.

Horsley, Tliomas, Esq., Kirkby Old Hall.

Hudson, Robert, Esq., F.R.S., Clapham Common.

Hudson, John, Esq. , Grove Villas, Derby.

Hobson, Mr. Councillor, Derby.

Harvey, W. K., Esq., Blyth House, Staffordshire.

Haywood, Mr. James, Jun., Ironfounder, Derby.

Haywood, Mr. George, Market Place, Derby.

Huggins, Mr. E. S., King's Head Hotel, Derby.

Hemsley, John, Esq., Melbourne, Derby.

Harper, WiUiam, Esq., Wilson Street, Derby.

Harrison, Thomas, Esq., The Lawn, Belper.

Harrison, James, Esq., Lawn Cottage, Belper.

Harrison, A. J., Esq., M.B., Walsall.

Harrison, Mr. James, Bridge Street, Belper.

Harrison, Mr. Samuel, Long Row, Belper.

Harrison, Mr. J. B., Com Market, Derby.

Harrison, Mr. J., Burton-on-Trent.

Harrison, Jlr. H., Crompton Street, Derby.

Harrison, Mr. G. W., Peter's Street, Derby.

Hind, Rev. J. S., Ovington House, Prudhoe.

Hunter, Mr. John, Savings Bank, Belper.

Harper, Mr. Thomas J., Duffield Road, Derby.

Hawkins, Mr. John, Morley Park.

Haslem, Mr. John, Nottingham Road, Derby.

Llolmes, Mr. Staff-Sergeant, Osmaston Street, Derby.

Hancock, Mr. S., China Works, Derby.

Henchley, Mr. Charles, Dervvent Meadows, Derby.

Hefford, Mr. J. N., Queen Street, Derby.

Hart, Mr. C. D., Sadler Gate, Derby.

Holdsworth, Mr. Thomas, Clay Cross.

Higginbottom, Mr. Wm., New Uttoxeter Road, Derby.

Hanson, Mr. Isaac, Derby Road, Belper.

Hibbert, Mr. John, Belper.

Hodges, Mr. R. J., Com Market, Derby.

Hall, G. C, Esq., Solicitor, Alfreton.

Holly, Mr. Wm., Corn Market, Derby.

Hunt, Mr. George Hurt, South Wingfield.

Hunt, Mr. J., St. Peter's Street, Derby.

Hoult, Mr. J., Derwent Street, Derby.

Hall, Mr. James, Belper.

HoUand, Mr. WUliam, Duffield.

Hawksley, Mrs. Sarah, South Wingfield.

Heath, Mr. John, Heanor.

Hill, Mr. John, Heanor.

LIST OF SUBSCRIBERS.	7
Haslam, Mr. W. Coates, Swanvrick.	Moore, Mr. Job, Harrington Villa, Derby.
Haslam, Mr. William, Longcroft, Alfreton.	Mason, Mr. S. H., Derwent Street, Derby.
Hefford, Mr. Joseph, Albert Vaults, Derby.	Martin, Mr. C. E., Queen Street, Derby.
Hawkins, Mr. W. F., King Street, Helper.	Martin, Mr. J. Sen., Bridge Foot, Belper.
Haynes, Mr. James, Ironmonger, Alfreton.	Moseley, Mr. Henry, Com Market, Derby.
Haslam, Mr. George, Sitwell Street, Derby.	Merchant, Mr. John, Ockbrook, Derby.
Hay, Mr. James, Chellaston.	Moreton, Mr. H., White Hart, Duffield.
Halladay, Mr. J., Builder, Aston-on-TrenL	Marbrow, Mr. W. H., Newton Solney.
Hancock, Mr., Dale Abbey.	Miles, Mr. W., Reporter Office, Derby. Mellor, Mr. David, Old Cemetery, Derby.
Jackson, \Vm., Esq., M.P., Portland Place, London.	Merchant, Mr. E., New Uttoxeler Road, Derby.
Jobson, Mr. J., Derwent Foundry, Derby.	Moore, Mr. Horatio, Duffield.
Jones, R. A. R., Esq., Ashbome Road, Derby.
Jarvis, Mr. R. A., Arboretum Street, Derby.	Newbold, Mr. Councillor, Derby.
Johnson, Mr. Frederick, Cockpit Hill, Derby.	Newdigate, Rev. C. J., West Hallam.
Jackson, Mr. C. W., Midland Railway, Derby.	Newton, Mr. William, Peter's Street, Derby.
Jackson, J. G., Esq., Solicitor, Helper.	Newman, Rev. C. S., Constantinople.
Jackson, Mr. William, Belper.	Nottingham Mechanics' Institution.
Jackson, Mr. John, Nun's Street, Derby.	Needham, E. M., Esq., Midland Railway, Derby.
Jefferson, Mr. R., Albert House, Derby.
James, Mr. Isaac, Devonshire Street, Derby.	Outram, Sir Francis Boyd, Bart., Tver Heath, Uxbridge.
James, Mr. Joseph, South Wingfield.	Oakes, James, Esq., Riddings House.
Jones, Mr. James, Engraver, Com Market, Derby.	Owen, Mr. Councillor, Derby.
Jackson, Mr., Kedleston.	Oakley, Mr. Councillor, Derby.
Johnson, Mr. John, Builder, Ripley.	Orgill, Mr. William, Hall Close, Kedleston. Oldershaw, Mr., Builder, Heanor.
Kirtley, Matthew, Esq., Midland Railway, Derby.
Kirtley, William, Esq., Midland Railway, Derby.	Pa.\ton, Lady, Chatsworth.
Kerr, Mrs. Isabella, Oldmaud, Aberdeenshire.	Pegg, Mr. Alderman, Derby.'
Keene, Mr. Richard, Bookseller, Derby.	Parkin, John, Esq., Idridgehay.
Keelon, Mr. James, King Street, Belper.	Parker, Robert S., Esq., Denby Old Hall.
Kendrick, Mr. John F.rpe, Derby Hills, Melbourne.	Pratt, Mr. Sandford, Belper.
I Kiddy, Mr. Samuel, Market Place, Belper.	Pike, Mr. William, Bookseller, Derby.
Kirk, Mr. Thomas, Bull's Moor, Belper.	Prince, Mr. Edwin, Dariey, near Derby. Prince, Mr. John, St. Peter's Street, Derby.
1 Lichfield, The Right Rev. Lord Bishop of, Eccleshall Castle.	Prince, Mr. William, Heanor.
1 Longdon, F., Esq., Mayor of Derby.	Platts, Mr. Samuel, South Wingfield.
i Latham, Rev. Canon, Little Eaton.	Parker, Mr. E. M., King Street, Belper.
1 Lucas, Thomas, Esq., Great George Street, Westminster.	Poyser, Mr., Duffield.
Laycock, W. E., Esq., Mayor of Sheffield.	Price, Mr. James, Littlcover.
Lucas, J. F., Esq., Middleton by ^■oulgreave.	Pearson, Mr. Thomas, Chesterfield.
1 Leech, Mr. Councillor, Derby.	Peal, Mr. P., Bookseller, Derby.
\ Lloyd, Rev. Rces L., King Street, Belper.	Pearson, Mr. William, South Wingfield.
1 Langhome, Thomas, Esq., Camfield Hall.	Palmer, Mr. George, New Cemetery, Derby.
Lamijlough, J. W., Est)., Bank, Derby.	Pym, Mr. Benjamin, Alfreton.
Lee, Mr. John, Osmaston Road, Derby.	Parker, Mr. William, Midland Railway, Derby.
Lowe, Mr. William, Stuart Street, Derby.	Pemberton, Mr. F., Builder, Normanton Road, Derby.
Mosley, Sir Oswald, Bart, RoUeston Hall.	Quant, Rev. W. C, Victoria Terrace, Derby. ,
Mold, Charles John, Esq., Wingfield Park.
Morrall, M. T., Esq., F.S.A., N.G., Matlock Bent.	Rutland, His Grace the Duke of, Bclvoir Castle.
Moss, Mrs., Litchurch, Derby.	Roe, Thomas, Esq., Ex-Mayor of Derby.
Morley, J. T., Esq., Littlcover.	Roc, Mr. Councillor, Derby.
Middleton, Rev. Henry, Incumbent of Codnor.	Radford, Thomas, Esq., Camfield Hall.
Jlorewood, C. R. P., Esq., Alfreton Park.	Robotham, A. H., Esq., Solicitor, Derby.
Marsh, William, Esq., High-Bailiff, Wirksworth.	Robinson, Mr. Edward, Builder, Belper.
Mugliston, Mr. James, Rcpton.	Robinson, Mr. Thomas D., Bridge Street, Derby.
Mozley, Mr. Charles, The Friary, Derby.	Robinson, Mr. E., Encounter Bay, Australia.
Moore, Mr. Thomas, Leicester.

LIST OF SUBSCRIBERS.

Redfern, Mr. Joseph, Willenhall, Staffordshire. Rice, Mr. Richard, New Uttoxeter Road, Derby. Rushton, Mr. R., Builder, Blythraarsh, Staffordshire. Ryde, Mr. Adam, Joiner, Belper. Redfern, Mr. George, Ashford-in-the-Water. Rowbottom, Mr. Samuel, Bookseller, Alfreton. Redfern, Mr. Frank, Poole's Cavern, Bu.\ton.

Strutt, George Henry, Esq., Bridge Hill, Belper.

Strutt, The Misses, Dersvent Bank, Derby.

Strutt, Anthony, Esq., Makeney.

Sale, Joseph, Esq., Solicitor, Derby.

Sanders, J. H., Esq., Architect, Midland Railway.

Stokes, George Henry, Esq., Chatsworth.

Sturt, Edward, Esq., Wood Street, London.

Smith, Rowland, Esq., Duffield Hall.

Smith, Francis N., Esq., Bank, Derby.

Smith, Mr. Councillor, Derby.

Smith, Mr. James, Cheapside, Derby.

Smith, Mr. J., Greenhill Lane, Alfreton.

Smith, Mr. Philip, Builder, Ambastou.

Shaw, John, Esq., College Place, Derby.

Staley, Mr. George, Butterley Iron Works.

Sowray, Mr. M. E., Post Office, Belper.

Stevenson, Mr. Richaid, Victoria Street, Derby.

Stevenson, Mr. George, China Works, Derby.

Stone, Mr. S., Park Street, Belper.

Sims, Mr. Samuel, Duffield.

Sims, Mr. George, Nottingham.

Spendlove, Mr. Robert, Relieving Ofiicer, Belper Union.

Springthorpe, Mr. Robert, Heanor.

Shaw, Mrs., Nag's Head, Belper.

Shaw, Mr. J., Henmoor House, Kilburne.

Shenton, Mr. George, Coal Agent, Belper.

Suramerside, Mr. T. H., Derby.

Slater, Mr. Samuel, Duffield.

Statham, Mr. Isaiah, Trent Brewery, Shardlow.

Staley, Mr. George, Glass House Fields, London.

Swingler, Mr. Thomas, Ironfounder, Derby.

Swan, Mr. B. H., Town Hall Stores, Derby.

Swindell, Mr. Samuel, Alfreton.

Turpie, Captain, Derby.

Thompson, George, Esq., Borough Surveyor, Derby.

Turner, Robert, Esq., T»7ford Hall,

Turner, John S., Esq., Surgeon, Alfreton.

Topham, Mr. Charles, Normanton Villa, Derby.

Tempest, Mrs., Derwent House, Little Eaton.

Tempest, Mr. J. JI., Abbey Street, Derby.

Taylor, Mr. Tom, Bridge Street, Belper.

Taylor, Mr. John, Royal Hotel Derby.

Taylor, Mr. James, Grove Villas, Derby.

Thompson, Mr. George, New Uttoxeter Road, Derby.

Turner, Mr., Derwent Street, Derby.

Tunaley, Mr. Thomas, Derwent Street, Derby.

T\Tn, Mr. John, Castleton.

Twigg, Mr. Thomas, Builder, Longford.

Tetley, Mr. Samuel, Cockpit Hill, Derby.

Upton, Mr. William, Sadler Gate, Derby.

Vallack, James, Esq., Coroner of Derby.

Whitworth, Joseph, Esq., Stancliffe Hall.

Wright, James, Esq., Mayor of Chesterfield.

Wilmot, E., Esq., Milford House.

Webster, William, Esq., Belper.

WooUey, T. S., Esq., Surgeon, Heanor.

Wilkinson, Rev. W. F., St. Werburgh's, Derby.

Wragge, George, Esq., Mayor of Melbourne, Australia.

Wilson, William, Esq., Banker, Alfreton.

Wheeldon, Mr. Councillor, Derby.

Walters, John, Esq., Normanton Terrace, Derby.

Wood, Mr. Councillor, Chesterfield.

Wild, Rev. John, Castle Bytham, Stamford.

Wheatcroft, Nathaniel, Esq., Cromford.

Walker, J. B., Esq., Solicitor, Belper.

Wilson, Mr. Councillor, Derby.

Wallis, Alfred, Esq., South Parade, Derby.

Walklate, Thomas, Esq., Mfdland Railway, Derby.

Webster, Mr. John, Queen Street, Belper.

Webster, Mr. John, New Road, Belper.

Welbourne, Mr. Robert, Friar Gate, Derby.

Whittaker, Mr. Robert, Belper.

Woolhouse, Mr. Richard, Nag's Head Yard, Derby.

Williamson, Mr. Richard, South Wingfield.

Walton, Mr. George, Market Place, Derby.

Watson, Mr. John. Prospect Cottages, Belper.

Walkerdine, Mr. Jesse, Jun., Friar's Terrace, Derby.

Watson, Mr. Thomas, Loscoe Fields.

Walker, Mr. John, Wardwick, Derby.

Wade, Mr. .Samuel, Mickleover.

Wade, Mr. Samuel, Peter's .Street, Derby.

Weston, Mr. John, Havelock Villa, Derby.

Woodiwiss, Mr. A., Hornby, near Lancaster.

W' hite, Mr. J., Park Street, Derby.

Winter, Mr. T. W., Photographer, Derby.

Walstowe, Mr. Edward, Sadler Gate, Derby.

Wragge, Mr. George, Chaddesden.

Williamson, Mr. H., Belper.

Ward, Mr, Frederick, South Hill Villa, Derby.

Wilson, Mr. John, Timber Merchant, Alfreton.

Wright, Mr. Joseph, Sadler Gate, Derby.

Winson, Mr. Humphrey, Bidl Bridge.

Webster, Mr. M., Friar Gate, Derby.

West, Mr. John, Heanor.

Wood, Mr. Samuel, Heanor.

Wood, Mr. George, Nag's Head Yard, Derby.

Watson, Mr. William, New Inn, Belper.

Watson, Mr. Samuel, Market Place, Belper.

Wade, Mr. B., Market Place, Belper.

Wilkinson, Mr. J. W., County Tavern, Derby.

Weet, Mr. Job, Brook Tavern, Belper.

9

PREFACE

SN introducing to our readers this new candidate for public approval — a volume of Derbyshire Gatherings — it may not be deemed inappropriate if we offer a few observations on the work to which we have addressed ourself — the mission which we hope to fulfil. This volume may truly be said to owe its origin to the suggestions of many friends; who, having in- spected and admired our repository or museum of antiquities, portraits, autographs, &c., considered that some record should be published, to render a portion of its varieties accessible to " the many " in a printed form. " On .this hint," after mature consideration, wc went to work, although we have but little leisure time for such a purpose; however, "where there's a will there's a way," and here is the product of our labour. The volume makes no pretensions to high literary character; the greater portion of its contents is the result of our evenings' occupation ; of what time could be spared from more imperative engagements. It appears, therefore, under all the disadvantages of a first essay in the literary world, unguarded by long and elaborate revision. This being the case, we trust that our defects or shortcomings will be pardoned, and every critical mercy extended to our maiden effort in biographic and antiquarian lore.

" Now reader, ere this book you scan, Resolve to prove a candid man ; Not critic-like, seek faults to find. And every beauty leave bcliind ; But, should a weed appear iti sight, A llower cull, to make it right. And thus you'll prove a candid soul ; Judge not a portion, but the whole. This done, premising you think fit That others should in judgment sit, Let Justice at the scales preside, And strictest Truth the c.ise decide."

We are conscious there are many faults, and possibly some errors, but not intentional ones. It has been a heavy and laborious task to collect and glean so many facts, as are given in the various memoirs of so many different characters ; all of which we have endeavoured to pourtray in a pleasing, genuine, and attractive style. It may be objected by some, that these memoirs of individuals are too brief; but our limits would not allow of a more extended notice, and our readers will find we have sketched the principal events occuring in their lives.

Dcrby.shire, hitherto, has had few works devoted to the sj)ecial biogra])hy of its numerous sons and daughters who have made themselves famous, not only in our own dear old county, but in every country of the world. Wherever the English language is spoken, there ^^ill Derbyshire men be found, occupying some of the first and foremost jilaccs in the van of enterprise and human progress.

These memoirs comprise but a few of those Derbyshire worthies, who first drew breath iii the midst of the lovely dales and mountain scenery for which our county is famous; in fact, our difficulty has not been to extend, but to confine our materials within moderate limits, and to select generally such characters as would be an emulation and incentive to hope in our youth, an antidote to despair under any circumstances, and a subject of pride and reflection in maturity. A few portraits are introduced, neither as examples nor warnings, but as subjects of drollery or pity.

The author cannot refrain, in this ])lace, from naming some of those who have rendered themselves illustrious by their virtues or their talents, in the Field, the Senale, the liar, the Church, Engineering, Painting, Sculpture, and in the other various walks of art, as well as in the products of its horny-handed

A

lO

THE PREFACE.

sons of labour. \\Tierever and whenever any great peril had to be encountered; any great enterprise conducted to a successful termination ; or any great work in any branch of labour, which required both head and hands to bring it to perfection, there will their names be found, amongst the promoters or the producers, or both. Amongst its numerous warriors who have fought and bled for the sake of their native land, may be named Sir Ralph Shirley and the Derbyshire archers, who, with their good yew bows and cloth-vard shafts, fought, with Edward the Black Prince, at the battles of Cressy and Poictiers, and were victorious against overwhelming odds ; who, also, under H(^ir)- the Fifth, were placed in the front rank at the memorable battle of Agincourt ; and who, with their bare breasts and arms and warlike ai> pearance, and well-earned reputation in former battles, struck terror into their enemies. This is not the time or place for details of these battles ; the French, though overwhelmingly superior in numbers, had to succumb, after an obstinate and bloody resistance, to the sturdy valour of our archers and others. At the latter battle, the archers killed the principal commanders and the Constable of France ; and to them was allowed the honour of the day.

To give a tithe of all the memorable battles in which Derbyshire has taken its honourable share, would fill a volume; but all our readers will remember the celebrated charge of the gallant 95th (Derby- shire) Regiment, which was first and foremost on the Heights of Alma ; in which conflict they suffered severely, their colours being so riddled with shot, that the word " Derbyshire '' could hardly be deciphered. These same colours may now be seen over die monument erected in All Saints' Church, Derby, to the memory of those who fell in the Crimea.

Of eminent dignitaries of the Church, who were natives of the county, we find Cardinal Repington ; Cardinal Curzon ; LavvTence Bothe, Archbishop of York ; Anthony Bee, Bishop of Durham ; Geoffrey Blythe, Bishop of Lichfield and Coventry; John Blythe, Bishop of Salisbury ; John Bothe, Bishop of Durham ; George Coke, Bishop of Hereford ; William Grey, Bishop of Ely ; Samuel Halifax, Bishop of St. Asaph ; Francis Hutchinson, Bishop of Down and Connor; Thomas Fanshaw Middleton, Bishop of Calcutta; Robert Purs- glove, Bishop of Hull; W. A. Shirley, Bishop of Sodor and Man; and the present Bishops of Sydney and Madras.

Amongst the eminent Law-givers of the county, we may name Sir Anthony Fitzherbert, of Norbury, whose quaint old volumes, entitled " An abridgement of the Law," " The Natura Brevium," &c., pubhshed in the 15th centur}', are still highly esteemed; Sir John Cockayne, Chief Baron of the Exchequer, in the reign of Richard 2nd; Ralph Pole, Justice of the King's Bench, who died in the year 1452; Francis Rodes, Justice of the Common Pleas, in the time of Queen Elizabeth; Sir John Eardley Wilmot, Chief Justice ; Sir William Coke, Justice of Ceylon ; Lord Denman ; Judge Balguy ; and the recently deceased Judge Crompton, who was born in Derby.

Did space allow, this list might be extended indefinitely, through all the multifarious professions, sciences, trades, and philosophies, that have flourished and faded. Derbyshire sons are to be found in the ranks of imagination, fancy, poetry, art, morals, and invention ; and many of them have gained a niche, not only among the worthies of Derbyshire, but as benefactors of the human race. Few counties can produce a more splendid array of talent and ingenuity, than is to be found amongst our native Engineers and workers in iron. We ought to bless God, who has placed in our midst those two genii of the lamp of England's glor}'. Ironstone and Coal — precious gifts, by which the brain of science and the hand of art have wrought out a nation's wealth and power. Our Derbyshire Iron was acknowledged to be the best, at a late competition with the manufacturers of France and Sweden, on a trial of armour plates for French vessels. Our Derby railway waggon-wheels are noted for their strength and durability. Wien the great World's Fair was proposed to be held in London, in the year 185 1, Derbyshire found a Paxton to plan, and a Fox to erect, the magnificent palace of glass, in which were exhibited the wonders of nature, science, art, and industry, of every principal nation on our globe.

The great Iron Works at Butteriey, Codnor Park, Staveley, Clay Cross, and Derby, have turned out many of the most stupendous works of modem times, and have also furnished many Engineers for the Royal Navy and our ocean steamers. Joseph Beardmore, the manager of the works of the General Steam Navigation Company, who, we beheve, own the largest fleet of vessels of any company in existence, was once a wliimsey

THE PREFACE.

II

engine tenter, under the Butterley Company. Derbyshire men have also been connected with most of the great works executed in London. Mr. George .Allen, a native of Ashover, had the management of the stone- work at the New Houses of Parliament ; and Mr. James Cowlishaw, of Derby, had the entire management of the works, during the erection of the Royal E.xchange. Mr. George Fumess, of Great Longstone, is the contractor for the present magnificent undertaking, " The Thames Embankment," which will cost at the very least, ^^5 20,000 1 He also executed the works for the "Great Northern Outfall Sewer, and Great Reservoir ;" the most gigantic enterprise ever undertaken for a sanitar)- purpose, not only in London, but in the world. In the Army Works Corps, formed by Sir Joseph Paxton, to face the dangers, and assist our soldiers in the Crimean war, many of the officers and men were from Derbyshire. To Derbyshire the world owes James Brindley, the founder of Canal Navigation, and other large engineering works. But, as already remarked, it is impossible even to give an outline of the worthies and their works, which Derbyshire has given to the world: else we could dwell ujjon the silk manufacture and its founders; of the introduction of silk into this country; of Mr. Crochet, who established in 1702, the first silk-mill in England, in Derby; of Mr. John Lombe, who erected, about the year 1717, a silk-mill, on an island in the river Derwent, at a cost of ;^3o,ooo ; which mill, yet standing, is called " The Old Silk-mill." But space forbids ; we may, however, mention the dangers and difliculties encountered by John Lombe, such as assassination in Italy, while learning the secrets of the manufacture ; the difficulty of building on a swampy island ; and, during the four years occupied in the erection of the building, using hired rooms in our Town Hall, where he erected temporary machines, worked by hand. All this is but emblematic of the ingenuity, bravery, and perseverance of many of our county sons, who.se names we must omit at present.

" Our Fathers .' time its record bears To their unblemished fame ;

And every olden spot en<lcars Some high and saintly name.

Earth teems with memories of those

Whom ages guard in deep repose."

Our county itself, as well as its natives, is worthy of an elaborate pen and pencil. Being situated in the centre of England, with an irregular and mountainous surface, which gives rise to a beautiful and ever-varying scenery, to which are added many wonderful natural curiosities, it is rendered particularly inter- esting, not only to the tourist, the artist, but also to the invalid, for its pure and healthy atmosphere. Derbyshire, although it lacks the charm of a sea-view, yet, from its inland position, escapes, in a great degree, from the raw air which pierces the lungs of the weak, and from the storms which devastate the coast.

The mineral and geological treasures of Derbyshire, such as alabaster, cr)'stal, antimony, marble, lead, iron, and coals, are well known everywhere. Its lead mines were worked in the byegone time of the Roman occu])ation. Its building .stones fomi the principal material in the finest erections of modern times, in London, Birmingham, Liverpool, Manchester, and other towns. Its rivers are as beautiful, silvery, and famous, as ever poet embalmed in song. Lord B>Ton, in his letter to Moore, said the scenery in Derbyshire was as noble as any in Greece or Switzerland ; and Sir Walter Scott found a subject for one of his most celebrated Waverley Novels, in the " Peveril of the Peak."

" Never sun

Viewed in its wide career a lovelier spot

For all that life can ask ; salubrious, mild ;

Its hills are green, its woods and prospects fair.

Its meadows fertile ; and, to crown the whole,

In one delightful word, // is our /wnu!"

In conclusion, we must offer our sincere thanks to those friends who have rendered us assistance in producing what, without the charge of presumptuous confidence, we may call the beautiful volume, now presented to our readers. To Mr. John Haslem, Mr. F. D. Broadhead, Mr. George Bailey, and Mr. J. Brassington, we are indebted for the pictorial illustrations; and from J. L. Fytche. Esq., F.S.A., Mr. J. Croston, Mr. Paterson, Mr. Springthoqje, and Mr. John T)n), we liave received much infonnation for the

12

THE PREFACE.

literary portion of the work. We also look Viiili both pride and pleasure on the numerous list of Sub- scribers, as showing the great interest taken in the subjects to which we have devoted ourself, and also the confidence they have reposed in us.

We now take leave of all, with our heartfelt wishes for their welfare and prosperity ; hoping, ere long, as we have been unable to do full justice to the worthies of the count)', to produce, if spared, and in compliance with the wishes of many of our subscribers, a second volume, which we will endeavour to make more interesting, if possible, than the present, as we have abundant materials for the purpose. We shall, nevertheless, at all times, be glad to hear from any of our readers, who may possess any relics or objects of interest, worthy of illustration in our pages ; and to all who take a pleasure in these matters, we shall be pleased to show our museum of Derbyshire antiquities, portraits, &:c., collected during a long series of years.

I, Stafford Terrace, J. B. R.

Derby, 1866.

^	^P^^3
i	^H

BORN AT NORTON, DERBYSHIRE.

13

SIR FRANCIS CHANTREY, R.A.

" Little efforts work great actions ; Lessons in our childhood taught, Mould the spirit of that temper

Whereby glorious deeds are wrought."

lORACE WALPOLE said, that men are often capable of greater things than they perform. They are sent into the world with bills of credit, and seldom draw to their full extent ; but when they do draw to the full extent, their lives become histor)-; for what is history, but the biography of great men. As Longfellow says —

" Lives of great men all remind us We can make our lives sublime."

Events are the elements of history, but men are the creators of events. Biography, therefore, takes us more into the interior of circumstances than history, and brings us nearer a true comprehension of social life, than chronicles and annals. History is a large hemispheral map, on which minuti.u are not desired. Biography is a smaller map, but it is better filled in with details. The scales on which they are con- structed differ ; events occupy the foremost position in historical narration ; in biography, on the contrary, the inner life is the primal object of investigation a'ld exhibition. The results of life appear in history, the productive forces of results receive the attention of biography. The greatness, value, antl responsibility of life consist in this, that it is the originator of change, the agent by which the evolution of events is accomplished. This is why we have all a right of property in each other's being, and a desire of knowing in what manner the purposes of life have been fulfilled by our neighbours ; for

" All are needed by each one ; Nothing is fair or good alone."

And when, among the men of our neighbourhood, as it were, we discover one whose career was one of taste, intelligence, and wealth, we shall do well to inquire whether some instructi\e lesson may not be drawn from his life.

Francis Chantrcy, the subject of this sketch, was born on the 7th of April, 1781, at Jordanthorpe, Norton, a pleasant village, near the northern boundary of Derbyshire. His parents were rather poor; and his father dying when he was twelve years old, the principal education he ever received was at home, from his mother, with some irregular tuition at a village school. He was driven by necessity to earn his own living, at a very early age; and his youthful occupations were, driving an ass, daily, with milk-barrels, l)etween Norton and Sheffield, and attending cows, in the fields or the byres at Jordanthorpe.- He was afterwards apprenticed to a grocer, in Fargate, Sheffield; but a very short probation behind a counter, in an unintellectual occupation, sufficed to convince both the lad and his friends, that this business was not to his taste. He selected car\ing and gilding as the business best suited for him, and accordingly was transferred from the grocer's to Mr. Ramsay, carver and gilder, of Sheffield. In this establishment, where there were a large collection of prints, plaster models, and other works of art, young Chantrey's taste for Sculpture developed itself. Allan Cunningham well illustrates the assertion that genius draws its materials from many sources, by stating, "The sight of a few prints in an obscure village in Yorkshire awakened the spark in Stothard ; the car\ed figures in an old picture frame did as much for Chantrey."

14

SIR FRANCIS CHANTREY, R. A.

There are many traditions afloat as to young Chantreys precocious ingenuity, but it is hard to state what is true and what false. We are told that he was in the habit of cutting figures on the knobs of sticks while driving his ass to Sheffield with milk ; that he formed models of the butter in the dairj^ ; decorating the dough of pies; moulding objects of clay in the gutters; and that when at last he found congenial emplo>Tiient among images, pictures, pencils, and tools, he used to sit until midnight in his obscure studio, drawing, modelling, or poring over anatomical plates.

The earliest specimen of Chantrey's drawing, is of a periwinkle flower, in the house of Mr. Biggins, Jordanthorpe. On it is inscribed — " F. Chantrey, fecit, 1798." In 1802 we find him in London, working as a Sculptor, in which profession he never had any instruction, but it was uphill work for a long time.

It seems singular, but it is true, that Portrait Painting rather than Sculpture, was the first love of Chantrey, as well as the earliest source of a decent pecuniary recompense. His charge averaged from 5 to 20 guineas ; and we learn that he was only diverted from the full pursuit of Painting as a profession by " one of those fortunate accidents upon which the destiny of an indi\idual so often seems to turn."

John Holland, in his "Memorials of Chantrey," relates that when in 181 1, Chantrey sent his bust of Home Tooke to Somerset House, Nollekens the great bust Sculptor, viewed it earnestly, lifted it from the floor, set it before him, moved his head to and fro, and having satisfied himself of its excellence, turned round to those who were arranging the works for e>diibition, and said, "There's a fine, a very fine busto ; let the man who made it be known — remove one of my busts, and put this in its place, for it well deserves it."

That Chantrey was foreshadowed as England's greatest Sculptor is evident from this fact. In 1805, the Reverend James Wilkinson, the venerated Vicar of Sheffield, died, and it was determined to erect a Monument to his memory. A marble bust of the Vicar was to form part of the Monument, and it was resolved that to Chantrey should be entrusted its execution. This was the first head that he had ever chiselled, and the result was entirely successful. The poet Montgomer}' was prophetic of the young Artist's career, and did not scruple to proclaim it in prose and verse.

The following lines written by a lady appeared in the Sheffield Iris, Januarj' 20, 1807 : —

"'Tis thine, O Chantrey! thus \rith matcliless skill To mould our passions at thy plastic will ; And as the marble grows beneath thy hand. Our charmed feelings rise at thy command ; Blest is the hand that gives the mourner rest. That pours the 'joy of grief into his breast : Dear is the power that soothes the tender heart ; Sweet are the consolations of thy art : Oh ! wondrous art — which thus the face can save, Which fond affection follows to the grave ! Pursue the path you now so gently tread, And save from 'dumb forgetfulness ' the honoured dead."

About 1809 Chantrey's reputation as a Sculptor may be said to have commenced, and it proceeded very rapidly to maturit)'. He obtained the order to execute " The Four Admirals " for " Inigo Jones' Hall," at Greenwich ; this was followed by a Statue of His Majesty for the Council Chamber at Guildhall ; busts also of Pitt, Sir Francis Burdett, Benjamin West, Lord Meadowbank, Curran, Stothard, Northcote, Professor Pla)'fair, Duke of Wellington, James Watt, Marquis of Anglesey, Sir Everard Home, Sir Joseph Banks, Nollekens, Sir James Clarke, &c., &c.

Chantrey's establishment at this period must have been an admirable treat to the favoured visitor. Bernard Barton, the Quaker poet, thus describes the Sculptor's rooms as they appeared towards the close of his professional career —

"It was worth something to steal out of the din and hubbub of crowded streets into those large, still, cathedral-like rooms of Chantrey's ; populous with phantom-like statues, or groups of statues as large or larger than life ; some tinted with dust and time, others of spectral whiteness, but all silent and solemn. To roam about among these, hearing nothing but the distant murmur of rolling carriages, and, now and then, the clink of the workman's chisel in some of the yards or workshops."

FAGSIMILL AUTOGRAPH ItTTLK

SIR FRANCIS CHANTRtY, R A

IN THE OOLUCTION Of M' J B ROBINSON .

<

SIR FKANCIS CIIANTREV, R.A.

IS

Chantrey liaii now become the unrivalled Sculptor of the day, was the admired of the highest ranks of society, and had realized all that Mrs. Hoffland had predicted upon seeing his bust of Wilkinson in 1807.

"Hail! to the artist who, from mouldering earth, SnatchM the fine semblance of departeil worth ; From death's dread empire, won each living grace, And breathed perfection o'er the plastic face ; Chantrey, be thine the undivided aim. To seize the Sculptor's rare and glorious fame, From Attic honours pluck unfading bays. And rival Athens in her ]>roudest days."

Chantrey won universal favour and ajiplause as a Sculptor by no merely imitative process, but as Allan Cunningham justly said, " he formed his taste on no style but that of nature, and no work of any age or country but his own can claim back any inspiration which they have lent him."

We learn that it was Chantrey's custom before commencing a bust to invite the sitter to breakfast. He liked to see his sitter with his morning looks on, and in conversation, and without the remotest idea that he was sitting for his portrait. After breakfast the comjjany adjourned to the Studio ; the sitter's face was caught mathematically in the Camera, and tlien the clay model was commenced. The sitter was not called upon to sit in a throne or vice, but allowed to wander within easy shot. Clay was manipulated into life, and the bust, as far as the so-called sitter was concerned, unconsciously completed.

Of the man. Sir Francis Chantrey, our readers might like to know something, and we give the following description, which is from the pen of Allan Cunningham, than whom no man in England knew the Sculptor better.

" Sir Francis Chantrey was about 5 feet 7 inches high, of a stout make, and one of the most active and vigorous men of his time, but latterly inclining to corpulency. His head and face were very fine, his mouth exquisitely chiselled — Lord Byron's not finer or more expressive ; his eyes round and lustrous, one useless for vision, but in no way apparently different from its fellow. He had been bald from an early age. His voice was agreeable; his conversation humourous and sarcastic by turns, and always animated. He had mixed much with the world, and, unlike the Hermit of I'aniell, knew it better by experience than by books. He had been much of a reader in his youth ; and had that happy and rare art of learning from conversation what others seek and acquire in books and silent study ; his knowledge was, therefore, very general ; and there was scarce a topic at table but what he could speak, and very ably upon. His reputation, his manner, and matter, always commanded attention. Then, how delightful were his dinner parties ; not for the viands only, though they were always of the choicest description, but for his own sake; for he talked much, and made a stranger's diffidence rub off, by touching on subjects he knew would be agreeable to him. Then, too, his conversation w.ts not addressed to one or two on his immediate right or left, but was aimed at the whole company. Dr. Johnson would have loved his table, and would have been reminded of tlie dinners he enjoyed so much, at Sir Joshua's and Allan Ramsay's."

The wTiter never had the pleasure of a personal acquaintance with the eminent Sculptor, but he had the melancholy pleasure, shortly after his death, of i)assing through Chantrey's Studios in Eccleston Place, London. Many of Chantrey's busts came into his possession some years ago, which had formerly been in Deville's once noted Museum, in the Strand. The wTiter also is in possession of the first pointing machine* made by Chantrey, for taking copies from his plaster models, as well as some of his modelling tools and sketches. He prizes these much because they were Chantrey's.

The majority of the precious objects which formed the attraction of Chantrey's rooms during his life- time, are preserved for the instruction of future ages, in the University Galleries, at Oxford, having been

• Chantrey's invention of the Pointing Machine, an instrument used by sculptors, for measuring statues, though lying in a subordinate line of art, is very valuable, and far surp-i-sses the invention of Bacon, for its accuracy and rajiidity. Hudon, an eminent French sculptor, on visiting London, saw this instniment for the first time, in Bacon's studio, and expressed himself so strongly concerning its beauty and usefulness, that Chantrey immediately presented him with one. Some time afterwards, a gcntlem.in who had come through I'aris, called on Bacon, and observing Chantrey's instrument, exclaimed, in surjirise, "So you have got M. Hudon's instrument for taking points! I see you don't object to copying the French in some particulars." An explanation took place, when it appeared that Hudon had passed it off for an invention of his own. Chantrey w.as so much pleased with his new instrument, that he sent correct drawings of it to Canova. The illustrious Italian acknowledged the benefit which such an instrument would confer on art, but lamented that he could not find a head in Rome, mechanical enough to comprehend the drawings.

i6

SIR FRANCIS CHANTREY, R. A.

presented by Lady Chantrey to that Institution, after the great Sculptor's death. They are all preserved together in a saloon called "The Chantrey Gallery."

Chantrey, while on a visit to Holkham, in Norfolk, had the fortune to kill two Woodcocks at one shot, a feat of which he was very proud, and commemorated the event in marble. The two Woodcocks are cut out in the Sculptor's best manner, and the following verses record the circumstance : —

" The snowy hills of Norway bred us, The silver springs of Holkham fed us ; A Sculptor, as we wing'd our way, Held out his gun and made us clay ; But, sorrowing for us as we fell, To marble turned us by a spell. Princes and peers flocked in a bevy, And said, ' How glorious done in gravy !' Geologists * looked marvelling on, But feeling cried, ' By God ! a stone.' How blest our fate o'er men and mice, Heaven made us once, and Chantrey twice!"

Chantrey was animated and attractive in conversation, was simple in his manners, and although asso- ciated with the highest in the land, he was never pufied up to unseemly pride. He loved to retrace his lowly origin and his early struggles, and was much attached to the place of his birth. He left a will, in which he provides that the whole of his fortune, (with the exception of a few minor bequests), said to be about ^90,000, should, after the death of Lady Chantrey, who is still living, become the property of the Royal Academy, for the purpose of purchasing ^Vorks of Art.

Sir Francis Chantrey died very suddenly at his residence in Eccleston Street, Pimlico, London, on the 25 th Noveinber, 184T, aged sixty years. Referring to the solemn sight his body presented in its winding- sheet on the night of the inquest, a Journalist says : — " In an exquisite little galler)', built for him by Sir John Soane, who always was good when his limits were cramped, lay the body of the great Sculptor — his eyes closed, his face calm, but with an expression serene and solemn even in death. Above were wax-lights burning clearly, and all around a collection of the finest casts from the antique. The Laocoon was at his head, the Venus and the Apollo on his right and left, and around the room the Ilissus and the Theseus, and other of the glories of Greece, with one or two of Canova's casts and copies of his own works." His remains, after lying in state amidst those creations of his genius, industry, and fame, which had so recently formed the chann of his li\"ing presence, were remo^•ed to Norton for interment, conform- ably with his will.

He died childless, as did also the contemporary Sculptors Nollekens and Flaxmaii. An Obelisk has been raised to his memory upon Norton Green, a short distance from the churchyard where his body is interred, in a vault prepared during his life-time. The obelisk is of Cheesewring granite, consisting of one block, twenty-two feet in height, and three feet square at its base. The design is by Mr. Philip Hardwick, R. A., and is one of characteristic simplicity. The only inscription it bears is the name

CHANTREY.

►Chantrey's great friends. Professors Buckland and Sedgwick.

Lieutenant-Ceneral Sir James Outram, Bart C.C.B.

THE Bi>iiyARo oy luxyiff-.

BORN AT BUTTERLEY H A LL, OEIR BYSH I R E.

SIR JAMES OUTRAM,

THE BAVARI) OF INDIA.

HERE is notliing we more quickly recognize in an individual than character; and we hardly know of anything so palpable to the senses that is so hard to define clearly. The words Shakespeare puts into the mouth of Coesar, give an imperfect idea of it

" I could be well moved if I were as you ; If I could pray to move, prayers would move me ; But I am constant as the Northern Star, Of whose true fixed and resting quality, There is no fellow in the firmament. The skies are painted with unnumbered sparks ; They are all fire, and every one doth shine ; But there's but one in all doth hold his place ; So in the world. 'Tis furnished well «ith men, And men are flesh and blood, and apprehensive ; Yet, in the number, I know but one That imassailable holds on his rank Unshaked of motion."

If ever there was one man more than another whose requirements of character came up to Shakespeare's standard, that man was the subject of the present sketch.

Lieutenant-General Sir James Outram, G.C.B., K.S.I., whose chivalrous and brilliant career won him the designation of " The Bayard of India," was the scion of an old and honourable Derbyshire (ixmily, which originally settled at Alfreton. He was the son of Benjamin Outram, Esq., of Butterley Hall, Derbyshire, an eminent civil engineer, by his wife, Margaret, daughter of James Anderson, Esq., L.L.B., and M.A., of Monnie, Aberdeenshire. Sir James Outram was brother of Mrs. George Sligo, of Seacliff House, Haddingtonshire, whose only daughter, the widow of Sir William Cornwallis Harris, married, secondly in 1859, Archibald Vincent Smith Sligo, Esq., of Inzievar; and Sir James's other Sister, Margaret, wife of Lieutenant-General Farquharson, of the Bombay Army, was mother of the Baroness Hugel, wife of the late Austrian Ambassador at Florence.

Sir James Outram was born at Butterley Hall, on the 29th of January, 1803, and was educated at Dr. Bi.sset's school at Udney, and at Marischal College, both in Aberdeenshire. He entered the 23rd Bombay Corps as a Cadet in 1820, and quitted it, a Lieutenant, to command and discipline the Bheel Corps, which he did with great success. From 1S28 to 1835 he served in Candeish, and organized a regular force in 1835 at Guzerat, and successively held the i)0sts of Commissioner in Upper Scinde, and of Resident at Sattara, Baroda, and Lucknow. In 1838 he accompanied Sir John (afterwards Lord) Keane as extra Aid- de-Camp to Affghanistan, and took part in the capture of Ghuznee. In 1856 Outram, then a Colonel, was appointed Chief Commissioner of Oude ; and in 1857 he was chosen to command the Persian expedition, and made a K.C.B. He was at Bushire, Kooshab, Mohammerah, and other engagements ; but, owing to an injury, resulting from a fall from his horse, was debarred from taking a very active part Scarcely hail he returneil from this expedition before he found himself called to share with the heroic Havelock the most serious duty that, perhajjs, ever fell upon true and gallant men in India — viz., the supjjression of the Sejioy insurrection, then at the height of its guilt and cruelty. After the suppression of tlie Mutiny he was ap|)ointed Chief Commissioner of Oude ; but differing with Lord Canning in the ijolicy pursued to the Talookdars, he left for Calcutta. In 1S57 he was made a G.C.B. ; in 1858 he was promoteil to a Lieutenant-Generalship

j3 sir JAMES OUTRAM.

for "eminent services ;" and was created a Baronet on the loth of November of that year. Lord Palmerston carried a vote of thanks to him in the Commons on the 8th of February, 1858 ; and Lord Panmure did the same in the Upper House, both warmly eulogizing Sir James's conduct. For two years after this Outram worked as President of the Council of India. He protested against the amalgamation of the Indian Army with the Queen's, and published a long and valuable minute on the subject. He then returned to England, wth his health so shattered that it was a wonder how he bore the voyage. Honours awaited him at all points, but he could only faintly enjoy them. He was presented with the freedom of the City of London, and with a sword worth one hundred guineas, on the 20th of December, i860, pursuant to a vote of the Corporation of October 7th, 1858. On the creation of the Order of the Star of India, Sir James Outram was enrolled among its first knights. In July, 1862, he received the honorary degree of D.C.L. from the University of O.xford. Sir James Outram married, December i8th, 1835, Margaret Clementina, second daughter of James Anderson, Esq., J. P., of Bridge-end, Brechin, Forfarshire; and by her, who survives him, he leaves an only child his successor. Sir James Outram died at Pau, in France, on the nth of April, 1863, and is succeeded by his son, now Sir Francis Boyd Outram, the second Baronet, who was bom in 1836. He married, in i860, Jane Anne, eldest daughter of Patrick Davidson, Esq., of Inchmarlo, Aberdeenshire. His present residence is Iver Heath, Uxbridge.

The nation heard of the death of Sir James Outram with a grief enhanced by disappointment that he had not lived to enjoy its gratitude, admiration, and those well-earned honours which his services had so nobly won. The Earl of Derby, in proposing a vote of thanks in the House of Lords, did but feebly echo the voice of the nation when he said — " The earlier services of Sir James Outram during this rebellion are perfectly well known to your Lordships, who have not forgotten the noble forbearance and generous self-denial with which he met General Havelock, on his return from his first attempt upon Lucknow, when he abstained from superseding him in the command until the final relief of the garrison, and left that gallant officer to obtain that glory which he had so well merited by his previous efforts. After the relief of the garrison and the retirement of the Commander-in-Chief, Sir James Outram was left with a small force in the exposed and perilous post at Alurabagh, arid there he was exposed for several months to the constant assaults of an enemy ten times his force — assaults however, which, on every occasion, he successfully repelled, until the Commander- in-Chief again returned to the siege of Lucknow. Sir James Outiam maintained his post, and in maintaining it he made it clear to the Natives of India that they were not to suppose that the retirement of the Commander-in-Chief was more than a temporary withdrawal." Lord Stanley in the House of Commons said — " The services of Sir James Outram require, I imagine, no mention from me in order to become known to this House. We are all aware how, in conjunction with Sir Henry Havelock, he penetrated into Lucknow with reinforcements in the month of September, 1857 ; how he took command of the garrison, and remained there until relieved by Lord Clyde, in the month of November ; how he held the isolated and exposed post of the Alumbagh until March, in the face of vast bodies of rebels, whom he kept in check ; and how he aided in the final capture of Lucknow."

We merely quote these expressive testimonies as but samples of hundreds of others from all ranks, and ever}' class of the community. He was indeed " the Bayard of India, sans peur ei sans reprocher His modesty, as we have seen, was equal to his gallantry, and both were matched by his generosity and humanity. It will long be remembered in India, how, when during the heat and fire of Lucknow, he dismounted from his horse to protect a poor native lad whose parents had been slain, and who sat weeping by the roadside. The following anecdote is also very characteristic of the man : —

" A magnificent tiger, ' a man-eater,' was hunted and struck, but not mortally wounded — the beast dashed away as only wounded tigers can, followed by the staunchest sportsmen of the party. At last it was found again, but, to the disgust of all, the animal had gone to earth in a dark and ugly cavern, about the last place to close single-handed with such a " Shitan." Men who could have fought in the open like Spartans, would not go to be crushed like rats in a sewer, and the tiger appeared to have escaped, when out of tlie crowd came a short, thick-set Feringee, with a quick black eye, and a pleasant smile upon his face. Merely asking where the beast was concealed, he quietly dismounted, grasped his rifle, stepped into the den, and passed from the sight of the admiring natives. Presently there was heard the sharp ring of the sportsman's

SIR JAMLS OUTKAM. jq

rifle, and James Outram re-appeared, a conqueror indeed of the ' man-eater,' but quite as much so of the impulsive Ishmaelites, who recognized in him honour and civilization, associated with true courage."

Sir James, in his noble modesty, was sincerely of ojiinion that his country had many a better servant than himself in India and elsewhere ; but taking him " for all in all," we cannot but feel that

' ' Wc ne'er shall look upon his like again. " For he was not merely a soldier, a man of might and courage in the field — nor even a mere statesman or administrator ; for he joined to the qualities that fit a man for great and responsible public posts, the rarest and most estimable of the personal characteristics and accomplishments that make an individual beloved and honoured, nay, almost idolized, in private life. He was so modest and humane, with such a womanly tenderness and delicacy of nature —

" And of his port as meek as is a maid,"

So fitted for the gentlest duties of domestic life — so happy in the society of women and children — so fond at all times of simple pleasures and innocent pastimes — so guileless and yielding — that it was difficult for those who knew him in the social circle to understand his energetic heroism in battle and his firm wisdom in the Cabinet. His rival. Sir Charles Napier, was tiuite as brave and energetic as Sir James Outram ; but then he was impetuous, hot-headed, and suspicious, and often unintentionally unjust. Indeed there is scarcely one great man in the long and brilliant list of gifted and famous Indian heroes and statesmen that had not some speck of human frailty with which to gratify envious and malignant criticism. But who has ever heard a whisper of objection against the name of Outram ! He won golden opinions from all sorts of peoi)le wherever he went. His noble and brilliant career is familiar to us all as " household words." His truly chivalrous and magnanimous self-denial which he exhibited towards Havelock when he was entitled to suiiersede him in his military command is ever present to his admirers. " To you," he said to Havelock, •' shall be left the glory of relieving Lucknow, for which you have already so nobly struggled." Sir James Outram then took the place of a mere volunteer by the side of Havelock. Nothing finer than this is recorded of Sir Philip Sydney, whose life was poetry put into action. The noble Outram, who served when he might have commanded, with all his modesty could not but know that he was peculiarly qualified for the work he so generously abnegated, for no man was better acquainted with Lucknow and the surrounding country, and no man was more thoroughly possessed of the confidence of the troops which he might so surely have led to glory. Quiet in his manner, a'nd with a kind word for every one, this true hero was justly described by an officer who had fought by his side as " one whom the hottest and deadliest fire, the gravest responsibility, or the most perilous and critical juncture, could neither e.xcite nor flurry."

Looking back upon the career of this gallant 'Soldier, and honourable gentleman, it is impossible to suppress a feeling of honest pride that Derbyshire should have owned him as her son. But his reputation is his country's — nay, the world's. He is gone —

" He set in the noon of his fame, lie fell in the hour of his pride ; But myriads shall hallow his name, And tell how the hero hath died."

He was buried in Westminster Abbey, in the presence of a large body of warriors, statesmen, and personal friends. The following is the Times' account of the mournful ceremonial : —

" The procession, simple in all that concerns State ceremonials, but with something more than the charjctcristics of a private funeral, left the late residence of the General, where he lived but for a short time before his fatal illness forced him to (JO abroad, at eleven o'clock, and passed from Qucen's-gate Gardens down Cromwell-road, Knightsbridge, Piccadilly, St. Jamcs's- street, I'all-mall, Whitehall, Parliament-street, to the West Cloister. A few carriages, with mules, plumes, and pages, containing mourners and special friends, were followed by the long cortege of private carriages which represented in a small degree the wide area over which the influence of Sir James Oulram's courage and kindness extended. At the Cathedral doors the crowd was dense and respectful. There the procession was received by the Venerable the Dean, by Canons Wordsworth, Jennings, Cureton, Ncpean, the Rev. Precentor lladcn, and the dignitaries of the Abbey. The cofTm was taken up on the shoulders of men who had stood beside their Chief in his march to Lucknow and in the weary vigils of Alumb.igh, and well did the bronzed faces and medals, the scarlet coats and plumed bonnets of the Mackenzie Highlanders become that sacred place when

20

SIR JAJIES OUTRAM.

need was to do honour to an old soldier. The medals of Lucknow and the bars of the Relief and Siege crossing the streaked riband of red and white on their breasts guaranteed their fitness for the office. There were twelve sergeants and non-commissioned officers, and a piper of Her Majesty's 7Sth, who had come with Colonel Lockhart, C.B., Captain Broome, and Quartermaster Skrive, to offer the last ser\'ices they could to him for whom they would have laid down their lives, as often they had at his orders exposed them to every chance of battle.

Through the sacred portal passed nodding plume, and heaving shoidder and martial figure, and all that could die of him whom so many had assembled to honour. The moumere followed the coffin — first, the only son of the deceased, now Sir Francis Outram ; then the other mourners and the noblemen and gentlemen specially invited. As the procession entered the choir, they who had been assembled in the Jerusalem Cliamber were marshalled two and two and marched through the cloisters into the Nave, where they met the procession and fell in with it, advancing in due order to the choir, where seats were reserved for all the invited. The body of the Nave was filled with people, and high above their heads peered down the Westminster boys, who, fresh from the form where Warren Hastings sat, should not forget that in the land where Outram won his fame there is yet a great career for good and brave kindly natures. The bright faces of these English youths would have touched him to the heart, for he was peculiarly susceptible of ingenuous homage, and there were in the train following his coffin some who, as they saw those young eyes and eager glances fi.\ed on the procession, haply remembered the day when, in the heat and fire of Lucknow, he dismounted from his horse to protect a poor native lad whose parents had been slain, and who sat weeping by the roadside. From the organ stole grandly out the solemn declaration in which the Christian Church speaks of the faith of the dead and proclaims the doctrine of his salvation — ' I am the Resurrection and the Life.' The pauses were filled by the measured tramp of feet — the feet of the warrior, statesman, and civilian, who are gliding fast to the world of history themselves ; and then came the declaration of their hope when all is over, and that crowning time has come to which warrior, statesman, and civilian must do reverence — ' I know that my Redeemer liveth.' So, -with solemn chant and organ peal, the Highlanders bear the body to the choir-gate, and it rests for a time while a procession, filing into the choir, resolves itself into lines of grave, sombre faces. Croft's rendering of the finest expression of our human helplessness and poverty, ' We brought nothing into this world,' had barely fainted away in the remotest aisles, when the 90th Psalm was heard, as Purcell alone could interpret it, in all its grandeur and comprehensiveness of our mortal state and temporary glories. The Dean of Westminster, while the coffin rested under the organ loft, read the funeral service in a manner worthy of the purest, simplest, and grandest ritual known to Christian Churche#; and when the burning words of the great Apostle had passed away, the Highlanders reverently took up their burden once more, and the procession, issuing out of the choir, followed the coffin to the space in the centre of which, carved out in the honoured earth, was the last resting-place of James Outram. It was with the softest, tenderest music that the body of the soldier was lowered to the grave. The service was most impressively and beautifully given. When the formulary ' Ashes to ashes, dust to dust,' was executed, one stout Highlander, who had doubtless faced death for many a weary night and cheerless day in the Alumbagh, wiped with his cuff the tears that still flowed down his cheek. A bright gleam of sunshine, which could not but speak of hopes beyond that yawning chasm, shone more brightly out as the Choir sang ' I heard a voice from Heaven.' And then to the vast, massive roll of the 'Dead March' in Saul, in which Handel seems to have embodied human sorrow and grief, the gathering round the grave was slowly dissolved, and James Outram was left, not alone in his glory, but in the midst of all that England can give to make the death of her servants peace."

A Statue to the memory of Sir James Outram has been completed, but there having been some difficulty in obtaining a proper site in London, an eflbrt was made to have it transferred to Derby, where it would have been both appropriate and ornamental. It has, however, ultimately been decided that the most conspicuous site for the statue will be on the Thames Embankment, when that splendid undertaking shall be finished. But whenever placed, or wherever, there is" no man or woman in England who will say that it is undeseri-ed or idly won.

THE ACCOUNTS OF ROBERT FFRENCH AND ROBERT CARRINGTON

CHURCHWARDENS OF CASTLETON FOR THE YEAR 1 7 1 4.

DlSBORST: — '

Imprimis spent at making the old Churchwardings accounts ... Pd. the Ringers for fore days Ringing - - . - .

Pd. for making a Tarrar -----..

Pd. Ringers at the proclamation of King George - . . .

Pd. for faching wine at 3 times --.....

Pd. for Bred and Wine .......

Pd. at the Coronation of King Georg ----..

Pd. for glazing at tn'ise ---..-..

Pd. for bell ropes los. pd. for a box and 2 gall bottels los.

Pd. for 3 Ravens is. pd. for Ellis Ashton .....

Pd. John Mellor for Liming .......

Pd. Robert Hall for mending steels 2S., and 9 lb. of lead gd.

Pd. for cloth and fring for the Communion Table & Chushon

Pd. Ringers for the thanksgiving for King Georges acss to the Crown

Pd. William Marshall 4s., Nickless Bradbury bill 6s. lod., a wisket zd.

Pd. for dying and clensing the old fring .....

Pd. for making Ellis Ashton cloth ......

Pd. at chusing the new churchwardings - . _ -

Pd. Parritar for bringing 5 Books about the altring of Prars

Pd. for wasing the serplis .......

Pd. for fFees and expenses at visitations .....

Pd. for one Load of Lime and besoms .--...

Pd. Clark for Ringing Corfor and Registering the accounts*

Pd. William Greaves bill .......

Pd. for oil for the clock from Sheffield ......

14 14 3i The following are some of the most interesting items in other succeeding Churchwardens' accounts for the same place : —

1722. Paid to the Sluggerd waker ......

,, for killing two Doge foxes ..--.. 1730. Pd. for killing a Bich ffox ......

1732. Pd. for three fox cubs .......

1745. Pd. to ye ringers at ye flight of ye Rebels - - - - -

1749. Pd. at the Rush Cart for ale t ......

„ Pd. for an iron Rotl to hang ye singers garland in J

1750. Pd. to Ringers on the 29th May - - - - -

„ Do. on the 5th November .....

1799. Oct. 6th. Paid Ringers for Nelson's Victory, Rejoicing ....

£	s.	d.
00	06	0
00	08	0
00	02	0
00	02	6
00	03	0
03	04	8
00	10	0
00	>4	7
01	00	0
00	05	6
00	01	0
00	02	9
02	00	7
00	°5	0
00	II	0
00	00	6
00	03	0
00	06	0
00	05	0
00	10	0
or	13	10
00	01	6
01	01	0
00	16	4
00	00	6

0	10	0
0	'3	4
0	II	0
0	18	0
0	5	0
0	I	8
0	0	S
0	3	0
0	3	0

♦ The Curfew Bell is still rung .il Castlcton at 8 o'clock in the evening from the 291!) Sept. to Shrove Tucsil.iy. + Ru.shcs were laid on the floor of the Church, which was unpaved, and as late as the year 1S20 straw w.is used for the s.anic purpose.

X This old custom still remains ; the singers make a garland on the iglli May, and place it on one of the pinnacles of the Tower, where its relics remain until the same day of the succeeding year.

INSCRIPTIONS ON THE BELLS OF BAKEWELL CHURCH.

HE following inscriptions have been copied from the Bells in the tower at Bakewell. The Bells were cast by Thomas Mears, of London, in 1796, and hung by Edward Simmons, his agent, in 1797. Richard Chapman, A.B., Vicar; Matthew Strult and George Heathcote, Churchwardens:—

Weight of each bell. First Bell. Cwt. qr. lb.

When I begin our merry din 5 3 3

This band I lead, from discord free, And for the fame of human name,

May every leader copy me.

Second Bell.

Mankind, like us, too oft are found, 5 3 16

Possessed of nought but empty sound.

Third Bell.

When of departed hours we toll the knell, 626

Instruction take and spend the future well.

Fourth Bell.

When men in Hymen's bands unite, 7 i 27

Our merry peals produce delight ;

But when death goes his dreary rounds.

We send forth sad and solemn sounds.

Fifth Bell.

Thro' grandsires and tripples with pleasure men range, 8 222 Till death calls the bob, and brings on the last change.

Sixth Bell.

When victory crowns the public weal, 10 3 15

With glee we give* the merry peal.

Seventh Bell.

Would men, like me, join, and agree, 12 3 11

They'd live in tuneful harmony.

Eighth Bell.

Possessed of deep sonorous tone, 18 2 1

This belfry King sits on his throne ;

And when the merry bells go round.

Adds to, and mellows every sound.

So is a just and wellpois'd state,

Where all degrees possess due weight ;

One greater power — one greater tone,

Is ceded to improve their own.

Total weight of the eight Bells - - 76 217

The above inscriptions were composed by Mr. Michael Williams, a local poet then residing in Bakewell.

GEORGE WRACGE, Esqr THE RIGHT WORSHIPFUL MAYOR OF MELBOURNE,

AUSTRALIA.

BORN AT ALTON HALL DERBYSHIRE. > o ■» o » —

GEORGE WRAGGE, Esq.

THE WORSHIPFUL MAYOR OF MELBOURNE, SOUTH AUSTRALIA.

ATURE is no respecter of persons ; she bestows her gifts where she lists, and when desirous of creating an aristocracy — the word we use in its best sense — she seeks not generally among the ranks of those to whom society has assigned conventional superiority, but finds favourites among the sons of farmers, barbers, mechanics, and people of similar degree. From whence else have sprung the brightest names in the respective walks of Agriculture, Architecture, Anatomy, Chemistry, History, Law, Mechanics, Medicine, Painting, Poetr}-, Sculpture, and civic dignities ? Is not the light of their fame, and of others like them, reflected upon the middle and working classes from whence they sprung, elevating them into the truest perceptions of greatness and honour ? The upward struggles of such men from the chaos of society into light and fame is one of the guarantees to a hopeful heart that, despite of much that is benumbing and stifling in this world, he is yet the possessor of energies which promise to surmount these influences, and achieve a position at once useful and eminent. Gladly, therefore, do we welcome every addition to the list of such men. However far apart from each other in the measure of their endowments, we greet and rejoice in them all.

The name placed at the head of this notice is one of those who have risen from a humble position, and a severe struggle with limited means and their attendant difliculties, to the occupancy of an honourable position in one of our distant Colonies. Mr. AVragge is the son of George and Maria Wragge, now residing at Chaddesden, near Derby. He was born on the twentieth of January, 1S25, at Alton Hall, near Wirksworth, where his grandfather was then living. He is the eldest of si-v sons, and received his education at Mr. Goodacre's Academy, Standard Hill, Nottingham, and at an early age w-as apprenticed to Mr. Charles Wilcockson, chemist and druggist, of the same town. After honourably serving his apjirenticeship, he remained several years in England, but not meeting with the success which his talents and industry deserved, he decided to try his fortune in another part of the world, and left this country for Melbourne, South Australia, which place he reached in November, 1852. Mr. Wragge was not a man to let the grass grow under his feet — he believed that

" Work is worship ;" aye, riglit traly Said the monks who lived of old ; " Work is worship — then 'tis duty ; Let that scripture be retold."

And he commenced business at once, as a chemist and druggist, in Collins Street. His persevering industr)', equable temper, strict truthfulness, and temperate habits, added to clearly defined ideas, quickly gained the esteem as well as the custom of all classes, and in April, i860, he was elected to the City Council for La Trobe Ward, and for which Ward Mr. \Vraggc has been re-elected, a positive proof that he is very popular among his constituents. He has also taken an active part in corporation and public matters for many years. In 1862 he was elected President of the Pharmaceutical Society of Victoria, and was fornially installed as the Right Worshipful Mayor of Melbourne on the 9th of November, 1864.

Malvolio, the quaintest character in Shakespeare, lays down the grave apothegm — " Some are bom great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon them." If by greatness may be signified that peculiar jjosition inqjorting trust, esteem, and the confidence of the most respectable i)ortion of society, then may we truly say that Mr. Wragge has (7^///(.7r// greatness.

In a letter to liis Father, announcing his elevation to the Mayoralty, he says — " I enclose a Photograph of myself, which you had better get a Photographer in Derby to mount. It is considered a gooil likeness of your Son, the " Right Worshipful the Mayor of Melbourne," which oflice I assume on the 9th uf November next.

2. GEORGE WRAGGE, Esq.

ha\ing been elected to it unanimously on the tenth of this month (October). I trust you are all well and in good spirits, and as this will reach you about Christmas, I wish you the compliments of that jojful season, and many of them. I do not know what you will say to my being elected as Chief Magistrate of such an important City as this, whose corporate revenue amounts to behveen ^^70,000 and ;^8o,ooo per annum, and to whose Chief even the Queen has entitled to be styled the Right Worshipful. This office I have obtained by industry and straightforward honesty, and I think it is something even for parents to be proud of, when their son obtains such a position as I have done, especially as I arrived in the Colony with so small a capital to start ^^■ith."

The above extract is a key to the character of the man — it exemplifies frankness and directness of purpose. His motto in the battle of life seems to be —

' Honour and shame from no condition rise. Act well your part, and there the honour lies."

It may be mentioned that he has not been without the usual trials and troubles incident to life, for Mr. Wragge has been twice married since his arrival in the Colony, his first wife dying January i8th, 1862, and leaving a family of four children to his care.

On the 9th of May, 1865, a pubhc dinner was given by the Mayor in the Council Chamber, which had been prepared for the purpose. His Excellency, Sir Charles Darling, was present, and among the other prominent guests were Major-General Chute, Sir Redmond Barry, the Hon. Matthew Harvey, Lieut. - Colonel Smith, R.A., the Colonel Commandant of Volunteers, the Hons. W. HuU and T. H. Fellows, Dr. BrowTiless, Vice-Chancellor of the University, several officers of the Royal Artillery, and the Consuls of several countries. The Mayor presided, and Aldermen Smith and Eades officiated as croupiers. A very recherche repast concluded, and the cloth withdrawn, the usual loyal toasts were proposed and done full honour to. His Excellency remarked, in reply to the toast of his health, that the Mayor was that night acting in conformity with the practice of the corporations of the Mother Country, in taking the opportunity of entertaining the representatives of the Cro^vn, and those of the defenders of the Crown. He would propose " Prosperity to the City of Melbourne," and would also couple with the toast the name of their host — " The Mayor of Melbourne." The Chairman returned thanks, and, after numerous other toasts, the company separated.

What is the lesson taught by this brief sketch of Mr. Wragge 1 This. The assurance that he has not attained to wealth and honour by dint of rank or scholastic attainment, out of the reach of many, but by homely virtues within the reach of all.

1

FLORENCE NIGHTINGALE. L£^ HURST, X>£RBVSH:IRS.

25

FLORENCE NIGHTINGALE

" I have heard of the lady, and good words went with her name." — SHAKESPEARE.

" O Woman ! though thy fragile form Bows, like the willow, to the storm ; Yet, if the power of grace divine Find in thy lowly heart a shrine, Then, in thy very weakness, strong. Thou wind'st thy noiseless path along. Weaving thine influence with the ties Of sweet domestic charities. And soft'niiig haughtier spirits down, I5y happy contact with thine own."

|LL the world has become fiimiliar with the name of Florence Nightingale. We have before us the grateful ta.sk of briefly sketching her career, and stating the sen-ices she has rendered to her sick and wounded countr)'men.

Miss Nightingale was born at Florence, in the year 1820, and is the daughter of an ancient and honourable house, her father, William Shore Nightingale, being the possessor by inheritance of ample estates in Derbyshire and Hampshire. She is coheiress with her sister Lady Verney, of Claydon Hall, Bucks., of the family estates. Endowed thus by the accident of birth with high jjosition and competent fortune, she was also; endowed by nature with a generous disposition, a kind heart, and ver>- superior talents. Miss Nightingale, indeed, is one of the most superior and accomplished women of the time.' Her knowledge of the ancient languages, the higher mathematics, science, literature, and art, would be deemed extraordinary in any country. After reaching maturity, she enjoyed a protracted foreign tour, residing for a time in eacli of the leading countries of Europe, and extending her travels to the lands of the Orient. She ascended the Nile as flir as its remotest cataract. Having a remarkable aptitude for the aciiuircment of languages, she returned home considerably versed in the languages of all the countries she had visited, but speaking French, German, and Italian, witii the fluency of natives.

Her travels were not merely excursions for pleasure. She had a yearning affection for her kin^l, a sympathy with the weak, the ojjpressed, the destitute, and the desolate. The schools and the poor around Lea Hurst, have seen and felt her as a visitor, teacher, consoler and expounder. She has frequented and studied the schools, hospitals, and reformatory institutions of London, Edinburgh, and the Continent. She acted as nurse for three or four months within the walls of a German hospital for the care of the lost and infirm. There she accumulated experience in all the duties and labours of female ministration. She then returned to be once more the delight of her own hajipy home. Hut the strong tendency of her mind to look beyond its own circle for the relief of tho.se who nominally having all, ])raclically have but too frequently none to help them, prevailed ; and therefore, when the hospital established in London for sick governesses was about to fail for want of proper management, she stepped forwaril and consentctl to be placed at its head. The lovely scenery of her Derbyshire home was exchanged for the narrow, dreary establishment in Harley Street, to which she devoted all her time and fortune. While her friends niisscil her at assemblies, lectures, concerts, exhibitions, and all the entertainments of taste and intellect with which London in its season abounds, she, whose powers could have best appreciated these, was sitting beside the bed and soothing the last complaints of some poor dying, homeless, querulous governe.ss. This querulousness of sick governesses is too frequently fomented, if not created, by the hard, unreflecting folly which regards fellow-creatures entrusted with forming the minds and dispositions of children as ingenious disagreeable machines, needing, like the steam engine, sustenance and covering, but, like it,

c

26

FLORENCE NIGHTINGALE.

quite beyond or beneath all sympathy, passions, or aftections. Miss Nightingale thought othenvise, and found pleasure in tending those poor destitute governesses in their infirmities, their sorrows, their deaths, or their recoveries.

With Burns, the poet, she well knew the truth of these words —

" But, Oh, what crowds in every land, Are wretched and forlorn ! Thro' weary life this lesson learn, That man was made to mourn."

She was seldom seen out of the walls of the institution, and the few friends she admitted found her in the midst of nurses, letters, prescriptions, and accounts. Her health sank under the heavy pressure, but a little of her native air restored her, and the failing institution was saved.

Soon a wail of agony arose from the plains of the Crimea. Late in the year 1S54, the British Expedition landed near Sebastopol. A more costly or a worse organized expedition never set foot on an enemy's soil. There were no proper means of transport — there were no tents issued for a month after landing — there were no means of moving the sick — the ambulances had been actually left behind, and those who fell exhausted were left to die by the roadside. The soldiers exposed to oppressive heats during the day, were subject also to the cold and heavy dews at night. The results were inevitable. Cholera, dysenter)-, and diarrhoea spread through the ranks, and the dead were scattered about in all directions.

In one month after landing the wounded and sick were to be counted by thousands, and the medical staflf proved to be boA inefficient and incapable. Vast hospitals were formed at Scutari, Balaklava, Constantinople, &c. ; but owing to want of arrangement, and attention, the sufferings of the patients were, to use the language of Lord Russell, " horrible and heartrending.'' Hundreds became idiotic from barbarous treatment ; whole hecatombs died from mal-treatment, and the soldiers who had nobly shed their blood for their country, were allowed to perish from neglect !

It was then that Miss Nightingale took the resolution which has made her name famous. She organized a band of English nurses, and undeterred by her fragile frame, her delicate constitution, weakened already by excessive toil in behalf of the suffering in England, obedient only to the generous impulses of her heart, she sailed for the scene of agony.

Arrived in the Crimea, Miss Nightingale, and the ladies who accompanied her, proceeded at once to the performance of the task they had undertaken. The mere presence of Englishwomen in the hospitals was found to be a source of indescribable consolation to the men. As Miss Nightingale walked down the long corridors, the poor fellows, as they lay upon their narrow beds, followed her with their eyes, and said that the sight of an English lady did them more good than physic. At first the ladies had obstacles thrown in their way by the devotees of routine, who would prefer to see men die in " the regular way," than saved by the introduction of novel methods. But the calm perseverance of Miss Nightingale, enforced by the voice of all England, which had shouted God speed to her mission, overcame every hindrance, and she was allowed to do her own work in her own way. She established refectories, where such articles as broth, toast, tea, chocolate, gruel, Sec, were prepared on a scale sufficient for thousands. She arranged apothecary depots, from which medicines, wines, spirits, and cordials, could be dispensed at any hour, day or night. She caused greater attention to be paid to cleanliness and ventilation; she also distributed books, papers, and in every way cheered and enlivened the men under her care.

" Beside the beds where parting life was laid, And sorrow, guilt, and pains, by turns dismay'd. This English Lady stood. At her control. Despair and anguish fled the struggling soul ; Comfort came down the trembling wTetch to raise. And his last faltering accents whisper'd praise."

To prove, if proof were needed, that no eulogy of Miss Nightingale's heroism and senices can be exaggerated, we cannot do better than give an extract from a letter that appeared in the Times of that

FLORENCE MdllTIXGAl.E. 27

period, from a gentleman sent out to superintend the expenditure of the Times' Fund, subscribed in England for the relief of hospital patients.

" Wherever there is disease in ils most dangerous form, and the hand of the spoiler distressingly nigh, there is that iiuomparabU woman sure to be seen : her benignant presence is an influence for good comfort even amid the struggles of expiring nature. She is a "ministering angel," without any exaggeration, in these hospitals, and as her slender form glides quietly along each corridor, every poor fellow's face softens with gratitude at the sight of her. When all the medical officers have retired for the night, and silence and darkness have settled down upon those miles of prostrate sick, she may be obser\'ed, lamp in hand, making her solitary rounds,"

Surely we are then justified in saying of her —

" Howe'er it be, it seems to me 'Tis noble to be good ; Kind hearts are more than coronets, And simple faith than Norman blood."

How heroically this true woman, accomplished and refined, acquitted herself amid all the horrors and dangers of these hospitals, the world partly knows, and history has recorded in every language of civilization, and will continue to be chronicled in many a future storj'. She has fulfilled a high, pure and holy mission, while her example has had a highly moral, beneficial, and salutary effect on our social civilization.

When the period of Miss Nightingale's return to England had arrived, it was resolved that an acceptable testimonial of public gratitude should be offered to her on her arrival, in the shape of a fund for the foundation of a new Hospital, to be worked on her own principle of unpaid labour. Since her return to this country, in spite of severe illness, which has condemned her to a life of comparative seclusion, she has found time to write a ver)' valuable little book, " Notes on Nursing," which has had an extensive circulation, and to bring out an expensive quarto, " Notes on Hospitals," enlarged from a paper drawn up by her, and laid before the Social Science Association. Towards the close of the year 1855, Her Majesty presented to Miss Nightingale a diamond ornament, adapted to be worn as a decoration of the most costly and elegant description. This testimony of the Queen's approval was accompanied by an autograph of the most cordial and grateful character.

Florence Nightingale is, we believe, now residing in the neighbourhood of London, and is, we regret to learn, still in a delicate state of health.

, She has not visited Derbyshire, nor her pleasant home at Lea Hurst, for some years, to the great regret of many, to whom even a knowledge of her presence amongst us would shed a halo of pleasure, and give an additional lustre to the exquisitely diversified scenery of our native County.

But wherever she resides, that her life may long be spared to us, is the fervent, honest prayer of a nation, to whose sons she has given solace in the hour of need, and upon whose daughters she has conferred the boon of an imperishable example.

28

PRISONERS OF WAR AT ASHBORNE.

BURING the war with France, the town of Ashborne, in Derbyshire, was the most lively and interesting in England, partly in consequence of the French prisoners being confined there, and from the con- tinual passing of the soldiers through the town on their way to the different seaports. About the year 1804, there were more than two hundred prisoners, all officers, in the town upon their parole of honour, amongst them were three of Napoleon's generals, Boyer, General Pajeau, who was taken at St. Domingo, and Roussambeau, who, with their retinue, spent thirty thousand pounds annually in the town. General Roussambeau, (the person who under the orders of Napoleon, poisoned the men at Java,) was a very stout man with a noble looking countenance ; he wore the French uniform of the sharpshooters, a jacket fastened, behind with a large gold buckle, and trowsers fitted close to his body of dark green cloth, with Hessian boots ; three brilliant stars in his cap, with a large plume of black feathers, which altogether presented a striking appearance, and not easily to be forgotten. He was about sixty years of age, and could not speak one word of English, and amongst his servants there were people of all nations.

According to the rules of government, on which the French prisoners were allowed their parole of honour, they were restricted from going more than a mile beyond the town, and that on the public highway ; and to return into the town by nine o'clock at night, at which time a bell rung. If any were found after that hour out of their lodgings, they were subjected to a fine of a guinea, to be paid to the informer, upon com- plaint before a magistrate. Not much to the credit of the townspeople, some of them took the meanest advantage of this regulation ; and the volunteers, a set of drunken young fellows, laid in wait for the officers to watch if they broke the rules, and then informed against them, by which means they obtained the fine, which was rigorously enforced. But the officers being very liberal with their money, receiving their full pay from Napoleon, and an allowance from our government, and being mostly men of property, cared very little about the fine, which they always paid.

In consequence of Lord Macartney, when he was a prisoner in France, receiving some kind attentions from General Boyer, he obtained leave from the Transport Board for the General to accompany him on a tour through England, upon condition to restore him back, and the general accordingly accepted his invitation to that effect. While they were on this tour, Roussambeau (who was still at Ashborne) kept up a correspon- dence with Boyer, who was liis friend, and when he learned that he was on his return, and staying for a few days at Matlock Bath, about ten miles from Ashborne, for the purpose of viewing the magnificent scenery about that delightful spot, he, zoitlwut leave, set out to Matlock, to meet him.

One day, while he was there, walking by himself on the Parade, near the New Bath, he was met by a party of gentlemen, one of whom knew him. Tlie gentleman addressed him in French, and observed, good- humouredly, he was rather out of his limits there. To this Roussambeau made no reply, — he Avas a very proud man, and entertained the greatest contempt for the English. On his return to the inn, he made enquiries who the person wasthat had accosted him ; and learned that he was on a visit to Mr. Arkwright, the great cotton manufacturer, who lived at Cromford, about half-a-mile from Alatlock. The General imme- diately sent hi:n a note, with a guinea enclosed, saying, he supposed that was his object, being what the

Ashborne blackguards' received for informing against him. The gentleman, Mr. feeling naturally

indignant at this insult, returned the guinea, and instantly wTOte to the Transport Board, in London, informing them of the General's irregularity, in consequence of which, an order was sent down in a few days for his removal to Norman Cross Prison, in Huntingdonshire, to close confinement ; from whence, however, he shortly afterwards contrived to make his escape into France.

DERBYSHIRE DALES

SIGH for ihe land where the orange-tree flingeth Its prodigal bloom on the myTtle below ;

Where the moonlight is warm, and the gondolier singeth, And clear waters take up the strain as they go.

Oh : fond is the longing, and rapt is the vision,

That stirs up my soul over Italy's tales ; But the present was bright as the far-off Elysian,

When I roved in the sun-flood through Derbyshire Dales.

There was joy for my eye, there was balm for my breathing ;

Green branches above me— blue streams at my side : The hand of Creation seemed proudly bequeathing

The beauty reserved for a festival tide.

I was bound like a child, by some magical story ;

Forgetting the " South " and " Ionian Vales ; " And felt that dear England had temples of glory,

^\^lere any might worship, in Derbyshire Dales. Sweet pass of the " Dove ! " 'mid rock, river, and dingle,

How great is thy charm for the wanderer's breast ! With thy moss-girdled towers and foam-jewell'd shingle,

Thy mountains of mi<,'ht, and thy valleys of rest.

I gazed on thy wonders— lone, silent, adoring ; ^^

I bent at the altar whose " fire never pales : " The Great Father was with me— Devotion was pouring

Its holiest praises in Derbyshire Dales. Wild glen of dark " Taddington "— rich in thy robing

Of forest-green cloak, with gray lacing bedight ; How I lingered to watch the red Western rays probmg

Thy leaf-mantled bosom with lances of light !

And " Monsal," thou mine of Arcadian treasure.

Need we seek for "Greek Islands" and spice-laden gales, ■While a Temple like thee, of enchantment and pleasure,

May be found in cur own native Derbyshire Dales? There is much in my Past, bearing waymarks of flowers,

The purest and rarest in odour and bloom ; There are beings, and breathings, and places, and hours,

Still trailing in roses o'er Memory's tomb. And when I shall count of the bliss that's departed,

And Old Age be telling its garrulous tales ; Those days will be first when the kind and true-hearted

Were nursing my spirit in Derbyshire Dales.

Eliza Cook.

30

SOUTH WINGFIELD MANOR HOUSE.

" Know most of the rooms of thy native country before thou goest over ^ the threshold thereof, especially seeing England presents thee with so many ohervaMcs.^'' — Fuller.

|E have often deplored the indifference with which many of our ancestral seats are regarded, while thousands boast of a knowledge of less interesting places on the Rhine, the Tagus, or the Seine. The topographic stores of Britain should be, in the words of Fuller, the Jirst objects of a Briton's

regard, and no subject surely can be more tasteful and interesting, and no ingenious youth can read such with- out interest in itself, or lay it aside without Historical instruction. The subject awakens every association which belongs to the o/cfcn times ; it is interwoven with the dimness of the Saxon era, the splendour of the Norman chivalry ; the alarms of feudal combats ; and the festive but perilous encounter of the joust and tournament. How often do monumental effigies, the grinning faces on old buildings, the cross-legged figures in the aisles of our cathedrals, recall the memory of heroic enthusiasm, mistaken piety, romantic crusade, deadly conflict ; in fact, how often do they tell of suffering, danger, sacrifice and endurance !

Some old writer said that a visit to any ancient Baronial Hall, invariably added to his knowledge in the data for costume ; it afforded him a simple, clear, and most conclusive elucidation of numbers of passages in our dramatic poets, and in those of Greece and Rome ; also that such a visit threw a flood of light upon the manners, usages, and sports of Saxon and Norman ; and lastly, that it removed a vast number of idle traditions and ingenious fables which are often transmitted from generation to generation for hundreds of years.

We plead guilty to a somewhat similar idea of a visit to one of our ancient seats or castles ; we can stand in the court-yard, or upon a battlement, and in memory's^ eye see haughty nobles and impetuous knights — We are present at their arming, assist them to their shields — enter the appointed lists with them, and partake their hopes, fears, perils, honours, and successes. Then we are presented to the glorious damsels, all superb and lovely, " in velours and clothe of golde and daintie devyces, both in pearles and emerawds, sawphyres, and dymondes" — We also see the banquets, with the serving-men and bucklers, servitors and trenchers, and shields of brawn, and goodly dolphins, and barbecued boars, and spiced wines — Kings and queens under gorgeous canopies of state — Lords and ladies footing it to high carantos ; pageants, high as the massive roofings of the royal halls, suddenly and slowly wheeled in with all the cumbersome and motley pride of rude magnificence. These, and many like day-dreams are inspired by an inspection of such venerable spots as those which form the subject of the present sketch.

The venerable ruin of Wingfield Manor House is a conspicuous object standing upon a steep emi- nence. Its high and pointed gables, lofty towers, buttress chimneys, projecting turrets, fretted stonework, and weather-beaten walls, slowly crumbling beneath the hand of Time, with the ivy clasping their cold stones, with its green arms, like a fair young bride embracing grisly death ! furnish a mine of thought and visions of by-gone days, of " battles, sieges, fortunes passed." How many generations have looked upon this old mansion, which

" Tim? has seen, that lifts the low, And level lays the lofty brow ; Has seen this broken pile complete, Big with the vanity of state ! "

Thousands of eyes have viewed this old pile, which are now dissolved in dust ; and thousands more will again look upon it and be swept away, and yet still the old ruin stands ! What a commentary upon human vanity and pretensions !

" The name of Wingfield is a common enough one in England, and is supposed to be derived from Win or Whin, the ancient word for furze or gorse ; a plant common to Derbyshire, Yorkshire, and other

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northern counties. It i.s supposed that the name of the Manor-House was derived from the fact that it was built on a gorse or furze hill, and much of that plant may still be found in the neighbourhood.

Another supposed derivation is from the word Guiii, which in the British signifies water, and that the Norman clerk who made the minutes from which Domesday-Book was transcribed, writing from the ear, wrote it Win, and, that therefore the etymon may be C7«/V/-ficld, or Water-field \ This conjecture is rendered probable by the frequent floods from the little river that runs through \Vingfield, and which formerly overflowed the valley so much, that Wingfield Church was often nearly a foot under water."*

" The manor of Wingfield, or, as itwas more anciently written, Winfield, boasts considerable antiquity, and has on more than one occasion been the scene of important events. At a period anterior to the Domesday sur\'ey it formed, as is supposed, a part of the possessions of Roger dc Poictou. After the battle of Hastings, when Duke William of Normandy began to parcel out the newly-acquired territory with lavish liberality among his faithful followei-s, Wingfield, with certain other manors in Derbyshire and other counties, fell to the share of his illegitimate son, William Peverel, under whom it was he'd at the time of the great national survey by Robert de Heriz, of .Man, Earl of Brittany. The Peverels, however, did not long enjoy their territorial possessions, for within a century of tlieir being granted by the conqueror, William Peverel, the grandson of the first baron, having been accused of poisoning Ranulph, Earl of Chester, found it necessary, to avoid the consequences of his odious act, to quit the kingdom, when the whole of his extensive domains passed by forfeit to Henry II.

The manor of Wingfield continued in the possession of the Heriz family for several generations after tlie seizure of Pevcrel's lands, the family having, as it would seem, become tenants-in-chief of the Crown. Subsequently, as appears by an inquisition taken at Chesterfield on Saturday, the feast of St. Katharine the Virgin, 3rd Edward III., the manor became the properly of Matilda, heiress and next of blood of (consanguiita) John de Heriz, whom Richard de la River had taken to wife. Margaret the eldest daughter of Richard de la River, became the wife of Roger Kellers, a person of considerable note, who served the office of High Sheriff of the counties of Derby and Nottingham in the reign of Edward III., and by him had a daughter, also named Margaret, who married Robert de Swyllington, Knight, and had given unto her during the lifetime of her father the manor of Wingfield, with other lands that were of her mother's inheritance, with remainder to her heirs. There being no surviving issue of this marriage, it was found by an inquisition taken at Derby on the 25th October, 8th Hcniy VI., that the property belonged to Ralph, Lord Cromwell of Tateshall, descended from the Bellers family, and cousin of Margaret wife of Robert de Swyllington. The award, however, was not allowed to remain unchallenged, for about the 19th year of the same reign a suit was instituted by Henry Pierj^ont, Knight, who claimed as heir of the inheritance of Margaret Gra, descended from the family of Heriz ; the result was a compromise, by which certain manors were vested in the family of Pierpont, and the manor of Wingfield assured to the Lord Cromwell.

Ralph Lord Cromwell, descended from a family of great antiquity, was summoned to parliament as one of the barons of the realm in 4th Henry IV., he being then only twenty-three years old ; in the following reign he attained to considerable power and influence, and was appointed to several offices of honour and emolument, enjoying, as it would seem, in an extraordinary degree, the confidence and favour of tlie king. In nth Henry VI. he had granted to him the office of Tre.Tsurer of the Exchequer, and three years afterwards he was retained to serve the King in the relief of Calais with one knight, 12 men at arms, and 175 archers. In the same year he was made master of the King's hounds and falcons with the wages and fees belonging thereto, and subsequently had conferred ujion him for his services a grant of £40 to be received annually durin" the royal pleasure out of the manor of Whasshynbyrgh, then in the King's hands. (5n the first of Fel)ruar)', 23 Henry VI, he had granted to him and his heirs, for the services he h.id performed to the King, the ofiices of constable of the Kin"'s Castle of Nottingham, and steward and keeper of the Forest of Sherwood, the parks of Beschewode and Clypston, and the woods of Bellow-Birkeland, Rumwodc, Ouselande, and Fullwood, in Nottinghamshire. The building of the present manor-house of Wingfield was commenced by this Lord Cromwell on the site of a more ancient structure, and completed by John, Second Earl of Shrewsbury, to whom he had sold the reversionary interest in the manor.

South Wingfield continued in the possession of the noble house of Shrewsbury until the death of t'liibert, the Seventh Earl, in 1616, when the inheritance was <livided amongst his three daughters and coheiresses, the eldest of whom, Mary, was married to William Herbert, Third Earl of Pembroke, who died in 1630 without surviving issue, when her portion of the estate reverted to Sir William Saville, Bart., father of the First Marquis of Halifax, and grandson of Mary Talbot, daughter of tieorge. Sixth Earl of Shrewsbury by his first wife, Gertrude, daughter of Thom.as Manners, First Earl of Rutland. Eiiz.-ibcth the second daughter, became the wife of Henry Grey, Earl of Kent, and she also dying issueless, her moiety passed I0 her uncle, the Eighth Earl of Shrewsbury, whose descendants retained po.ssession of the same until 1709, when Charles, Twelfth Earl of Shrewsbury, by an indenture of lease and re-lease, conveyed five-sixth parts of his portion of the manor and estate to Thomas Leacroft, of Wirksworth, the remaining one-sixth part being sold about the same time to Wingfield llalton, Esq. Alalhca, the youngest of the three daughters of Gilbert Earl of Shrewsbury, who claimed, by inheritance, the third portion of the manor of South Wingfield, married Thomas, Earl of Arundel, grandson of Thomas, Duke of Norfolk, who was beheaded in 1572, and

• Blorc's History of Wingfield Manor.

,- SOUTH WINGFIELD MANOR HOUSE.

her grandson, Henry, Duke of Norfolk, conveyed this moiety to his auditor, Imanuel Halton, Gentleman, son of Miles Halton, sheriff of Cumberland, in 1652, and the ancestor of the present o\™er of Wingfield.

Wint^eld Manor House derives an especial interest from the circumstance that it was for several years the place of captivity of the ill-fated Mary, Queen of Scots — a captivity which must have been almost as irksome to the Earl of Shrewsbur>'. in whose custody she was placed, as to the Queen herself. The suite of rooms which are believed to have been appropriated to her use are stil! pointed out ; they occupy the west side of the north court, and communicate with the great tower, from whence, tradition says, she had sometimes an opportunity of watching the approach of the friends with whom She was in secret correspondence. Her residence here extended over a period of several years ; but during that time she was an occasional visitor at Hardwieke and Chatsworth, two • other mansions of the Earl of Shrewsbur)-, and also at Buxton, then celebrated for tlie medicinal properties of its thermal springs.

Whatever may have been the motive which induced the Earl to accept the charge of the captive Queen, certain it is that he was soon desirous of being relieved of the responsibility, but as it was difficult to find another nobleman equally faithful to supply his place, he was compelled by the Queen's authority to retain his trust, to the ruin of his peace and the serious injury of his fortune. *

Possessing a high sensibility and a noble and generous noture, it was the misfortune of the Eatl to be united to a lady who, though reputed to be the handsomest woman of her day, was, perhaps, the veriest shrew in Christendom. Elizabeth, Countess of Shrewsbur}-, — better known as Bess of Hardwieke- who had been thrice married before she became the wife of George Talbot, was a woman of a proud, arrogant, and imperious demeanour, mercenary and sordid in her disposition, cold, selfish, and unfeeling, without one redeeming quality of womanly tenderness or honourable integrity. She could not exist without some political intrigue ; and, when not engaged with her scheming speculations, she employed her talents in confederating alternately with Elizabeth and Mar)', always to the prejudice and terror of her husband, whose existence was often embittered, and his feelings wounded, by her captious arrogance and pretended jealousy.

It was in the month of May, 1569, that Mary was removed to Wingfield from Tutbury Castle, where she had resided since January, of the preceding year — nominally a free princess, but in reality a prisoner of state. The first years of her confinement were accompanied by some circumstances of mitigation, and the irksomeness of her captivity was softened by agreeable society, and the conversation of such persons of rank as visited her entertainers ; but the increasing jealousy of Elizabeth and her ministers caused everj- movement of the illustrious captive to be watched with suspicion, and she was eventually excluded from all social intercourse : her amusements were restricted, and even out-door exercise was at times prohibited ; no other resources being left to her than her lute and her needle, with which latter she beguiled many weary hours of her long confinement. To add to her wretchedness she was subjected to all the petty indignities that her coarse-minded hostess could heap upon her ; not the least painful of which was the malignant aspersion cast upon her character by the countess, who, incredible as it may appear, affected to believe that the Queen of Scots had seduced the affections of the earl her husband. For this,, however, as we find from Str)-pet and the correspondence of Castlenau, she had the satisfaction of obtaining, through the agency of the French ambassador, an attested disavowal of the calumnious reports which the countess and her two sons had maliciously circulated against her.

In the same year that ilary w.-is conveyed to Wingfield, that in which the memorable "Rising of the North" occurred, an attempt was made, according to Camden, by Leonard Dacres, a son of William Lord Dacres, to liberate her from the captirity in which she was kept and conduct her to some foreign country ; the plot, however, was discovered and the design consequently frustrated. A similar attempt, made by a Mr. Hall and the younger sons of the Eari of Derby, is supposed to

• Mary's domestic establishment at this time included five gentlemen, fourteen servitors, three cooks, four boys, three gentlemen's men, six Sgentlewomen, two wives, and ten wenches and children. Lodge, in his " Illustrations of British Histor>-," says that the Queen's table was furnished with sixteen dishes to each course — the principal officers of the household had ten, and the ladies eight covers. They consumed a large quantity of wine, and Mary had sometimes baths of wine for pain or tumour in her side, from which she suffered ; no wonder that her guardian should at times have found himself embarrassed in providing for so large an addition to his household. No less than two htmdred gentlemen, yeomen, officers, and soldiers were employed in the custody of her person at Wingfield.

t Sirype Annals, v. 3-,/. 232 — Rumours of Lord Shrewsburj^'s intimacy with the captive Queen would appear to have been rather widely circulated. In a letter written about this time (1584) by William Fletewood, the eminent lawyer and recorder of London, to Lord Treasurer Burghley, there occurs the following passage : — "At this sessions, one Cople and one Baldwcn, my Lord of Shrowsburie's gent, required me that they might be suffered to indict one Walmesley of Islyngton, an inn-holder, for scandilation of my Lord their m.aster. They shewed me two papers. The first was under the clerk of the counsel's hand, of my lord's purgation, in the which your good lordship's speeches are specially set downe. The second paper was the examination of divers witnesses taken by Mr. Harris ; the effect of all which was. that Walmesley should tell his gests openlie at the table that the Erie of Shrowsbur>' had gotten the Scottish Quene with child, and that he knew when the child was christened, and it was alledged that he should further adde, that my lord should never go home aga>-ne, with like wordes, &c. An indictement was drawne by the clerk of the peace, the which I thought not good to have published, or, (ere ?) that the evidence should be given openlie, and thcre.'^ore I caused the jurie to go to a chamber, where I was, and heard the evidence given, amongst whom one Merideth Hammer, a doctor of divinitie and vicar of Islyngton, was a witness, who had dwelt as lewdlie towardes my lord in speeches as dyd the other, viz. . Walmesley. This doctor regardeth not an oathe. Surlie he is a very bad man ; but in the end the inditement was endorsed Billa vera." \

! St! private correspondence 0/ Lord Burghley, and oilitrs, published in Wright's " Qtuen Elizabeth and htr times."

SOUTH WIXGFIELD MANOR HOUSE. 33

have taken place here. These conspiracies, instead of aiding the cause of Mary, only served to increase the jealousy of Elizabeth, who, kept as she was, in continual alarm by the i)lots and threatened insurrections, and apprehensive of any meditated escape, caused a greater degree of caution and watchfulness to be exercised towards her unhappy captive. Indeed, Mark's misfortunes were as much attributable to the rashness of her friends, as the malignity and vindictiveness of her enemies, and it was their mistaken zeal that prepared the way for her ultimate ruin.

Of the many projects set on foot for the restoration of the captive Queen, the most romantic and that which eventually cost her her life, was the conspiracy headed by .'\nthony Babington, a young man of fortune, residing at Delhick, near Wingtield. Babington, who had been seduced by the .arguments of John liallard, a fanatical priest, conceived the idea of assassinating Elizabeth and her ministers, and invading England by Spanish troops, whilst a simultaneous insurrection of the Roman Catholics was to open the gates of Mary's prison, place her upon the English throne, and at once restore the Romish religion. The plot was betrayed to Secretary Walsingham, who caused the letters of the conspirators and of Mary herself to be intercepted. From some of these, which have been preserved, it is clear that the Spaniards were deeply implic.ited, and were much discon- certed at the discovery. Though Mary had been apprised by Babington of the design formed in her favour, and had signified her approval of it, it is not clear that she was privy to the premeditated murder of Elizabeth ; certain it is that her enemies have failed to prove the charge, and some of her accusers have admitted that they were perjured. On the discovery of the plot Mary's papers were seized, and she herself was removed to Follieringhay Castle in Northamptonshire. Ballard, who originated the conspiracy, was made prisoner at Dethick ; and Babington and some of his companions (led to the south, and for some time concealed themselves in the woods near Harrow, but were at length discovered, brought to trial, and convicted of high treason. Fourteen of them were executed, seven of whom, including Babington, died acknowledging their crime.

The trial and execution of these wretched men was followed by one of still greater importance ; a commission of forty noblemen and privy councillors, with Lord Treasurer Burghley at their head, was sent to try the captive Queen on the chaise of knowing, approving, and consenting to Babington's conspiracy, and of expressly declaring her approbation of Elizabeth's assassination ; but she refused to acknowledge their jurisdiction, and protested against the prerogative which the Queen assumed in arraigning as a criminal a princess who like herself was an absolute sovereign. Ultimately she was induced to meet the commissioners and the examination proceeded, but all assistance was refused her, and even her request for an advocate was denied. The trial, which was a solemn mockery of justice, resulted in the sentence of death being recorded against her. An act of attainder followed, and after some delay, and a real or affected reluctance on the part of Elizabeth, the death warrant was signed, and the sentence carried into execution at Fotheringhay, on the Sth February, 1587.

Though Elizabeth may have deemed her throne and even her life insecure, whilst Mary lived, no excuse nor justification can be offered for the extreme measure resorted to. That she was an able and vigorous politician, and had, moreover, the wisdom to surround herself with advisers possessed of extraordinary talents, unimpeachable integrity, and sound patriotic feeling, cannot be questioned ; but, despite the blaze of glory which it has been attempted to cast around her character, this one act will ever remain an indelible stain upon her reputation, and cause her name to be remembered with feelings of mingled sorrow and aversion. At the same time it must be borne in mind that the act, cowardly and unjustifiable as it was, was as much that of the country as of Elizabeth and of her government. Whatever her own private feelings may have been, it cannot be denied that she was urged by her ministers, her parliament, and her subjects to the last and crowning act of severity ; and when the sentence of death was announced it was hailed by the people with demonstrations of satisfaction and even joy. Though it cannot justify, it may in some degree palliate the conduct of the Queen, when we remember the cliaracter of the .ige in which she lived — an age in which the feudal barbarism that existed among our forefathers had hardly become extinct.

Of Mary it may be said that she was the very perfection of elegance and refinement. She excelled in the freedom of her address and the variety of her accomplishmcnU ; her wit, her beauty, and the talents she possessed were unequalled, while she seemed to exercise a fascinating influence over all who approached her. Yet withal she was lamentably deficient in prudence, m judgment, and in principle, and, lacking that firmness of character and those higher qualities of mind so requisite in a ruler, she allowed herself to be beguiled by flattery and to be deceived by those she had foolishly trasted, and on whom she had lavished her favours in happier days. The most lovely of women, she was the most unfortunate of sovereigns. .\s a woman she had many failings, and as a queen she had still greater faults. Though her complicity in the murder of her husband has been denied, yet by bestowing her hand upon the assassin she absolved him from the crime and became herself a parlicipalor in his gudt. But when we remember her numerous misfortunes, the length and severity of her confinement, and the crael persecution to which she was subjected, we are constrained to pity rather than condemn. If in life the pride of royally was her nilmg passion ; in her last hours she exhibited a serenity of mind, a fervent piety, and a cilm and dignified resignation worthy of the "most heroic of the Christian martyrs. In those sacred momenU when the frailty of youth and the vanity of ambition could only be recalled with feelings of mingled shame and sorrow, she appeared to welcome the approach of the day that should rele.xse her from her earthly troubles, believing that she was to suffer for her consistency in the Catholic faith. As we look back upon these last scenes of her eventful history, the ofl"ences of her lif.- seem to be atoned for in the misery she endured, luul the crimes of her former years to be expiated by the shedding of her blood. Let us add, though we cannot entirely absolve, we cannot withhold our sympathy. In the words of M. Dargaud, ' We judge not — we only relate.'

Wingfield, which, as we have .seen, lia<l been for several years the prison-house of the unfortunate Mary Stuart, was, in the succeeding century, destined lo be the theatre of some important military operations, in which it shared the fate of many of the old baronial residences of the period.

D

,. SOUTH WINGFIELD MANOR HOUSE.

During those unhappy struggles between Charles the First and his Parliament, which desolated the kingdom, and drenched it in civil slaughter, the house was alternately garrisoned by the Royalist and Parliamentarian armies, and became the scene of some hotly-contested engagements between the belligerent forces. At the outset of the civil wars it was held for the Parliamentarian party by Philip, Earl of Pembroke and Montgomery, he being one of the committee charged with the management of the estates of his sister-in-law, the dowager Countess of Pembroke. In November, 1643, it was stormed and taken by a detachment of the King's troops, headed by that chivalrous cavalier William Cavendish, Marquis and Duke of Newcastle, — the ' Loyal Duke,' as he was usually

styled, and a garrison left in charge, commanded by Col. Roger Molineux. The victory, however, was but short-lived, for in the

month of July, in the following year, it was again besieged by Lord Grey of Groby and Sir John Cell of Hopton, the latter of whom, possessing great local interest, and uniting considerable military skill, with a determined perseverance, had in a short time succeeded in inducing the greater part of the county to take up arms againjt the King, at whose hands he had, only a couple of years before, received the honour of knighthood. To such a degree was this interest exercised, that it was remarked by Lord Clarendon that ' there was in Derbyshire no visible party for the King, the whole county being under the influence of Sir John Gell.' The assault was made by heavy artillery planted on Pentrich common, an elevated slope on the opposite side of the valley, and vigorously replied to by a battery which had been raised on the east side of the house. The siege appears to have been of some duration, for in the month of August the King sent General Hastings to the relief of the besieged, but his troops were driven back by the Earl of Denbigh and Sir John Gell. Finding it impossible to effect a breach, Sir John Gell ordered his gvms to be removed to within nearer range, when a more vigorous fire was opened. After the battle of Marston Moor his force was strengthened by a division of the Earl of Manchester's army, when, after a storming of a few hours from the united batteries, a breach was made, and the gallant defenders were compelled to surrender. During the conflict Colonel Dalby, the governor, was killed, having been shot by a common soldier, who fired at him through an opening in the wall.

Some other trifling skirmishes between the contending parties took place here subsequently, and on the 23rd June, 1646, an order in Parliament was issued directing that the place should be dismantled.

From this period little or no historical interest has attached to the mansion. Having been much shattered and defaced during the successive conflicts, it became neglected, and was allowed gradually to fall into decay, the dilapidations which age and strife had effected having been accelerated by those who ought to have preserved it from further devastation.

In 1774, in consequence of a partition of the estate under a decree of the Court of Chancery, the manor-house became the property of Imanuel Halton, Esq., grandson of Imanuel Halton, the first of the name who resided here. That gentleman pulled down some of the finest portions of this magnificent mansion for the sake of the materials, which he employed in the erection of a plain and excessively ugly-looking structure on the opposite side of the valley, and all that now remains are the grass-grown courts, the ruined and roofless halls, the crumbling buttresses, the shattered ramparts, and the heaps of hoaiy ruins on which the everlasting ivy flourishes in all its pride.

The palmy days of Wingfield are now over, and its glory has for ever passed away. Those grey and massive towers — the sad memorials of fallen grandeur, majestic even in decay, and beautiful in their desolation — which once reared their heads aloft and looked down with proud and stern defiance, braving the wmtry blast, and rejoicing in the summer sheen, are now crumbling gradually into dust, mocking the vanity of man, and evidencing the impossibility of resisting the silent, yet sure corroding hand of time, which, sooner or later, locks within its desolating grasp, the mightiest works of human creation. For —

E'en so fares it with the things of earth Which seem most constant : there will come the cloud That shall enfold them up, and leave their place A seat for emptiness.

The situation of Wingfield is exceedingly well chosen. It stands upon the verge of a rocky knoll which rises boldly from the plain a little to the south of the village, and commands an extensive view over the surrounding country. Its numerous towers, all crenellated and embattled, rising proudly above the spreading woods in which it is embosomed, when viewed from the opposite side of the valley, have a striking and highly picturesque effect, and invest it with an air of grandeur that well accords with the interesting and romantic associations connected with it.

In its perfect state South Wingfield must have been a most magnificent residence, and, notwithstanding the neglect and disorder which prevails, it still affords in its general arrangement and construction a very characteristic example of the better class of mansions erected during the fifteenth century, the architectural details being of the first excellence, indicating the elaborate and splendid style in which the domestic stiuctures of that period were erected.

In accordance with the constructive habits of the lime in which it was built, the plan consisted of two courts, the inner one an irregular quadrangle, round which were arranged the great hall, the chapel, and the state apartments, and communicating by an arched gatehouse or porch, with the outer court or bailey, which was enclosed on three sides by the offices, and the lodgings of the numerous retainers of the knightly and noble owners of the mansion ; the fourth side being occupied by the farm buildings, remains of which still exist, exhibiting some good examples of early perpendiciUar work. The principal entrance to the mansion was by a massive tower gateway at the south-east angle of the outer court.

As already stated, the buildings which originally formed the three sides of the court, consisted chiefly of offices ; the greater part are now destroyed, and those which remain are disfigured with tasteless brickwork, and the incongruous materials that have been employed in modem repairs. Near the centre of the north side of this court is the porch or gateway leading to the inner quadrangle, flanked on each side by plain square towers. Over the archway are three shields, on one of which is carved three purses or money bags

SOUTH WINGFIELD MANOR HOUSE.

35

— an allusion to the office which Lord Cromwell, the founder, held as Treasurer of England. At the western end of this range of building is a massive square tower, embattled, with an exploratory turret rising from one of the angles, and between this and the porch arc two large chimney-stacks baltlemented at the top.

The north court is very extensive, and the buildings which surround it, though roofless, shattered, and rained, exhibit some fine examples of Gothic carving and decoration, and convey a tolerably clear idea of the magnificent character of the original structure. The ground is covered with turf, and rank grass, docks, and nettles flourish abundantly, half hiding the fragments of decayed masonry that lie scattered about. The broken arches, the crumbling buttresses, and battlemerited walls have a striking eflecl, and the pictur- esqueness of their appearance is heightened by the evergreen, ivy, and trailing plants, which spread out their twisting stems and throw a mantle of loveliness over the mutilated scene. Opposite the porch is a gable, in which is a fine Gothic window of four lights, transomed, and surmounted by a crocketed ogee canopy terminated by a carved finial. This window gives light to an upper chamber, which, for some unknown reason, has been designated the drawing-room, though it is more likely to have been the domestic chapel, being the only apartment about the building adapted for that purpose. Adjoining this chamber is the porch or main entrance to the great hall, which still remains in a very perfect state of preservation ; the doorway is deeply recessed, and enriched with mouldings and carved roses. Above is a porch chamber, lighted by a small pointed window, surmounted by a sun-dial, and the whole is crowned by an embattled parapet, ornamented with quatrefoil panels and shields charged with armorial insigna. On the east side of the porch is a projecting oriel or bay, supported by rectangular buttresses, and lighted on three sides by pointed traceried windows ; supporting the parapet is a bold moulding or fascia, the latter adorned with foliated panels. The great hall, or banqueting chamber, which originally formed the chief entertaining apartment, is of noble proportions, measuring about 72 feet in length by 36 feet in width, deriving a further increase of size from the large oriel already noticed, the top of which, in the interior, has a fine paneled vault. This apartment appears to have been divided, at some period subsequent to its erection, into smaller chambers, and the windows altered to suit them ; the north side is lighted by a double range, and a corresponding range is said to have formerly existed on the south side, which latter have now disappeared. A great portion of the outer walls still remains, but the interior exhibits a complete ruin — a mere shell, scarcely retaining a feature of its former consequence. Near the oriel is a winding stair that conducts to a spacious underground chamber extending the entire length of the great hall, the vaulted roof of which is supported by a central row of massive stone columns, that give it the appearance of an ancient cathedral crj-pt ; • the vaultmg ribs are very substantial, and in the centre of each bay, where they meet, is a flat circular boss, ornamented wiih foliated panel-work, still remaining in excellent preser\'ation. What was the precise use for which this chamber was originally designed it would be diflicult to determine, unless it was intended- as a store or guard-room. From the lower end of the great hall there is a communication with the terrace-garden, and a passage leading beneath the chapel to the buttery and' the other offices ; adjacent to them is the kitchen, occupying the north-west angle of the building, the oven and fireplaco in which are very spacious, aflbrding, by their large dimensions, strong presumptive evidence that the founder of Wingfield was a man who loved good cheer and practised a generous hospitality. On the west side of the quadrangle formerly stood the apart- ments supposed to have been occupied by Mary Queen of Scots— a basement, and a few grey and moss-grown walls, and some broken mouldings half buried in grass and nettles, being the only remains that now exist ; a tall spreading tree grows near, its ample foliage heightening the efiiect of the general ruin and making the desolation look still more desolate. These apartments communicated with the great tower — a castellated erection with a polygonal watch turret abutting upon the north-east angle, pierced by numerous small pointed windows; a broken and disjointed stair leads to the top, from whence a comprehensive view of the ruins, and also a more extensive prospect of the neighbourhood of Wingfield and the sylvan scenery by which it is surrounded is obtained, t

After these extracts, let us turn again and have a look at the noble old pile — glorious even in decay — sacred in its desolation. The same sun that illumined its stern walls when in their youthful strength, still brightens them in age ; the same breeze that stirred the heavy folds of its banner, now sweeps mourn- fully through its deserted halls.^the peaceful little river flows as calmly, and the lovely face of nature wears as bright an aspect as when the stronghold first reared its towering height. Like man who reared them, they are in solemn, silent, though slow decay. Man and his works fall into one common tomb at length — together, at last, they mingle their a,shes. But while we bow in reverence and sorrow to the fulfilment of an unerring law, a bright ray breaks through the gloom, and with joy we say, that though we and our works crumble into dust, that fate is but for a time.

" Man alone, of all creation, Mocks corruptions iron sway ; Captive, death awhile may claim him, Anil, as host.Tge, hold the clay.

* See Illustration.

♦ For the forcRomg description of the M.innr Houne I am n..i. 1. i..,l. l.ir.l t,. mv fricn.l Mr. J.imcs Croslon. author of " On Fool through the Peak.' who visited the old place in the Sutumcr of 1864.

,g SOUTH WINGFIELD MANOR HOUSE.

But his grasp will soon be loosened, E'en the dust shall leave its tomb, And, in soul and body perfect Man survive creation's doom."

But a survey of Wingfield Manor House suggests other thoughts. We see in its ruins the remnants of a 'semi-barbaric age, witli all its gigantic oppression and security. Wingfield Manor House remains to us proclaiming that the age of liberty has arrived, the serf has risen from bondage, and the " Villein " has burst his chains. We rejoice that from its tower no battle-cry now resounds, of either Royalist or

Cromwellian. and that —

" The trumpet's silver tones are still, The warder silent on the hill."

No longer will gay retinues assemble with lance and sword within its walls — no more will " faire ladyes," amble on palfreys and hawks on wrist, with hounds baying their deep-mouthed joy, on issuing from its gates. Fair dames and damsels, and their gallants are all gone —

" Mute each voice of mirth and gladness, Wassail song and frolic glee ; Minstrel's lay, rewarding largess, With its tones of melody."

The walls are crumbling, the floors deserted, and

" O'er them now decay doth triumph E'en though ages mocked his sway."

The sublime and the ridiculous we all krtow are often very intimately blended, as will be seen even of this hoary relic. During the time the late Mr. Hunt was tenant of the Manor House, a cow contrived to find its way up the steps to the very top of the tower ! Many efforts were made to entice the creature down, but she seemed perfectly satisfied with her elevation, and not at all inclined to come lower in the world. Perhaps she was in a ruminating mood upon the lives, abodes, and pastures of her bovine ancestors ! Certain it is however, that although she might have found sermons in the stones of the tower, she did not find them good for eating, and when the servant girl, who always milked her, came up and called her, she, satisfied with her survey, turned round and followed her dowTi the steps in perfect safety !

We advise every visitor to follow the example of the quadruped, and view the grounds from the tower.

" Mount this tower of feudal lordling, Climb each broken, stony stair ; Every lattice-casement crumbling

-Slimy step, and damp walls bare," ?

and the sight will well repay you, and your journey be not profitless, if only for the reflections it will bring, that " these latter days are the best, for the world grows older and wiser every day."

The following names of a few of its visitors have been extracted by the writer from the Visitors' Book kept at the Manor House : — 1850. Sept. 13th — Charles Dickens; Sir Edwin Landseer.

1851. August 1 8th — Sir Oswald Mosley, Bart, President of Archaeological Association and Members. August 27 th — Rear-Admiral Sir Henry Dillon.

1852. June 7th — Count Pfefferskindle, Suabia.

1856. August 1 6th — Rev. Dr. Milman.

1857 — Miss Emma Daemker from Zurich. September 2nd — Lord and Lady Glengall.

1859.

August 1 6th — Sir Harry and Lady Verney.

SOUTH WINGFIELD MANOR HOUSE. 73

Amongst the visitors of this time-wom, time-honoured pUe, the reader will observe the names of Mr. Charles Dickens, and Sir Edwin I^andseer. It would indeed have been a rare treat to have listened to the remarks of either of these gifted men, while exploring its recesses, turrets, and towers ! Or could we but surmise what passed through the mind of the most popular writer of the age, or the pictures his memory might be treasuring up, connected with the great and unfortunate, which the place suggested, but whose memories are fast fading away among the dim traditions of tlie past ! Could he look upon such a ruin without thinking of the words of the poet —

" The glories of our birth and state

Are shadows, not substantial things : There is no armour against fate : Death lays his icy hands on Kings ; Sceptre and Crown Must tumble down. And in the dust be equal made With the poor crooked scythe or spade."

To the poet and the painter, old Manors and Castles are haunts whose relics they love to note: they are like the perfume of flowers that never forsakes even the fragments of a broken vase in which they were once gathered, though faded and dead, yet sweet and grateful to the last.

38

LORD DENMAN

" No wrath of men, or rage of seas. Can shake a just man's purposes ; No threats of tyrants, or the grim Visage of them can alter him ; But what he doth at first intend, That be holds firmly to the end."

Herrick.

HIS distinguished and accomplished lawyer, who acted for many years so prominent a part on the political arena, and presided with such dignity and ability over the Court of Queen's Bench as Lord Chief Justice, from 1832 to 1850, was the son of Dr. Denman, one of the court physicians in the time of King George the Third, whose father was a tradesman or farmer at Bakewell, a locality to which the family for successive generations has been so attached that the line of descendants is likely to perpetuate the residence. Dr. Denman was fond of his farm at Stoney Middleton, and Lord Denman by judiciously carried out improvements converted the farm house into a delightful residence. Dr. Denman had three children, Thomas, and two daughters, one of whom was married to Dr. Baillie, and the other to the unhappy Sir Richard Croft, who attended the Princess Charlotte in her confinement, and, being unable to get over the shock of her death, committed suicide. It was probably because he was surrounded by physicians in his family relations, that Lord Denman was reported to have been originally intended for the medical profession. This was not the case, however, his destination and choice having always been the bar. He was bom 23rd Februar)', 1779, and received his education at Eton, and at St. John's College, Cambridge. Unlike most young barristers, who are obliged to defer marriage till middle life, or to plunge their wives into poverty, he indulged himself with a home at an early age. He married, i8th October, 1804, Theodosia- Anne, eldest daughter of the late Rev. Richard Vevers, Rector of Saxby, Leicestershire, by Theodosia- Dorothy, his wife, daughter of Sir Edmund Anderson, Bart., of Lea ; and by her (who died 28th June, 1852,) had five sons and six daughters. Of the former, the eldest, Thomas, now second Lord Denman, was bom 30th July, 1805 ; and married 12th August, 1829, Georgiana, eldest daughter of the late Rev. Thomas Roe. Mr. Denman's position at the bar became early a very honourable one ; and his name was connected especially with causes and trials in which the libertj' of the press was concerned. He appears on almost every occasion in the records of the prosecutions for political libels, blasphemy, and sedition, so frequent during the Tor)' administrations of the early part of the century.

Mr. Denman was introduced into Parliament in 1818, being returned for the borough of Wareham. He

immediately distinguished himself by his earnest advocacy of popular freedom — side by side with Brougham

and Lambton — on all the many occasions furnished by the troubled years of 1819 and 1820. In those

times of a Manchester massacre, a Cato-street conspiracy, Burdett letters, and prosecution of authors and

printers, Mr. Denman was always found vigilant and eloquent in opposing Seizures of Arms' Bills, Seditious

Meetings' Bills, Blasphemous and Seditious Libels' Bills, and doing his best to spoil the whole machinery of

moral torture and intellectual restrictions framed by the Eklons, Sidmouths, and Castlereaghs of those

unhappy days. His popularity was already great when his advocacy of the cause of Queen Caroline, on

her return in 1820, made him the idol of more than "the populace," with whose admiration he was taunted

so scornfully. He accepted the office of Solicitor-General to the Queen — at the sacrifice, he well knew,

and everv'body knew, of his fair professional prospects. From the hour that, as one of her Commissioners

(Mr. Brougham being the other) he met the Duke of Wellington and Lord Castlereagh as the King's

Commissioners, it was felt that he had ruined himself, if professional advancement was the object of his life.

Not only were all the high offices of the law closed to him during the reign of the King, who was not yet

// .'l

THi ^BGIHIT M©INI®t.« LOR© D i N Ifi*^ A IN ,

LORD CHIEF JUSTICE OF THE QUEENS BENCH. — > < —

J

LORD DENMAN. jQ

crow-ned ; but his " brothers," who were in the course of nature to succeed him, were almost as virulent as the King against all aiders and abettors of the Queen's claims. Mr. Denman suffered, as he knew he must, a long abeyance of professional advancement ; but the English nation were not likely to allow this to last for ever : and Thomas Denman was their Chief Justice at last

When the Grey Ministry was formed in 1830, he was made Attorney-General, and knighted for the office, according to custom. The Nottingham people returned him to Parliament with high pride and delight. The Duke of Clarence, who had joined in the persecution of the Queen, had now laid aside old controversies ; and he made the liberal Attorney-General a peer in 1834, and Chief Justice of the King's Bench. In two years more. Lord Denman pronounced the decision that brought on the perilous quarrel between the Law Courts and Parliament. The history of the controversy need not be given here, as it may be found in the clironicles of the time, and seen to involve much more than Lord Denman's share in the business.

No man ever took a loftier view of its duties to society. To quote but one example, the conduct of the Court in the difficult case of " Stockdale t. Hansard," when it was directly assailed by one branch of the Legislature, is a memorable instance of the exercise of that constitutional power which enables our judges to interpose the authority of the law against the arbitrary pretensions of the most powerful body in this realm, and to combat privilege in the name of justice. " Most willingly would I decline," said Lord Denman in dehvering judgment on that occasion, " to enter upon an enquiry which may lead to my differing from that great and powerful assembly (the House of Commons). But, when one of my fellow-subjects presents himself before me in this court, demanding justice for an injur)', it is not at my option to grant or to withhold redress. I am bound to afford it him, if the law declares him entitled to it. Parliament is said to be supreme. I must fully acknowledge its supremacy. // follows, then, that neither branch of it is supreme when acting by itself." In those few words, and in the judicial power of enforcing that truth, lies the supreme guardianship of the liberties of England.

Lord Denman resigned the office of Chief Justice in 1850. The tributes of respect and affection offered by the bar and the public to the retiring judge were truly consolatory to his feelings, and as richly deserved as any honours ever offered to an aged public servant.

In his retirement he was tenderly cheered, and in due course nursed by his affectionate children, and especially by his eldest son, who was his judge's associate when he was on the bench.

Lord Denman lived the life of a reformer of abuses, and an enemy to all that in his judgment clouded the honour or impaired the public utility of our institutions. His hatred of negro slavery in every form rose to a passion, for he stood armed against cruelty and injustice, and in the wretched fate of kidnapped Africans and degraded slaves, he beheld the united and accumulated evils and wrongs which have most disgraced humanity and profaned religion. He powerfully contributed to the furtherance of those reforms of the criminal law which Sir Samuel Romilly had commenced, and which Lord Denman brought to the test of his own judicial experience. To the cause of toleration and freedom within the boundaries of law he at all times gave his hearty support, and in all the undertakings set on foot in our day for more extended popular education, for the diffusion of useful knowledge, for the refonnation of criminal offenders, and for other acts of enlightened charity he readily bore his part. The warmth he had sometimes displayed as a jiartisan gradually subsided under the higher duties of his judicial station and the soothing influence of age. His closing years, though afllicted by severe illness, were serenely devoted to that contemplation which is the worthiest termination of human life — to those acts of kindness which endear the memory of the departed — and to the exercises of religion which anticipate the final change. We rank him with the worthiest of his contemporaries, and the life he led affords, in our judgment, a better example to those who follow Kim than that of more eager and impetuous aspirants after power and fame. Certainly a more honourable or U|)right man never adorned the P^nglish bar; a more consistent or honest politician never crossed the threshold of Parliament ; nor did ever a more independent or purer minded individual preside on the judicial bench of lliis country.

40

CURIOUS OLD APOTHECARY'S BILL FOR MEDICINE.

Oct. 27 :	170b
Nov. 30
Dec. 20
29
30
Feby. 2 ;	1708
	9
1 1
12
13
21
Augst. 9
20
Septr. 1 9
Deer. 18
19
29
31
Jany. 12 :	1709
	10
Feby. 5
28
Mar. 25
April 1 2
18
May 16
17
26
July 2
26
Augst. 27
Septr.
Octr. I
2
3

FOR MR. YOUNG.

A bottle of surfeit water

A cordial julep

Another bottle of surfeit water

A glass of cinnamon water

Another glass of the same

A glass of Diacodium

Mint Water

Black Cherry Water

A paper of Sperma Ceeti

A glass of penn}Toyal water

A glass of Syrup of Rhubarb

A bottle of cephalick Drops

A cordial Sudorifick Draught

Sage of Vertue

A bottle of Queen of Hungarys Water

Damask Rose Water

Treacle Water

A cordial julep for the child

Cinnamon water

A plaister for the stomach

A glass of oyl of sweet almonds &c

A paper of burnt hartshome

Basilicon

More of the same

Hony and Bole Armenack

A paper of Manna

A bottle of plague water

Another bottle of Julep

Syrup of Mulberrys &c

A paper of Gascoins Powder

Oyl of mace cloves &c

A glass of plague water

A healing Gargarism

A cordial pearl julep

A bottle of cephalick drops

Another pearl julep

A pectoral mixture for y^ cough

A glass of s}Tup of Rhubarb

A compound purging Potion

A dose of compound purging pills

£ s.	d.
00 00	09
„ 01	06
„ CO	09
„ 00	09
„ 00	09
„ 00	03
„ 00	01
„ 00	01
„ 00	04
„ 00	06
„ 00	04
„ 00	09
„ 01	00
„ 00	01
„ 00	06
„ 00	01
„ 00	01
„ 00	06
., 03	00
„ 00	06
„ 00	04
„ 00	01
„ 00	01
,. 00	01
„ 00	02
„ 00	01
„ 01	06
„ 00	06
„ 00	03
„ 00	04
„ 00	06
,, 01	06
„ 00	03
„ 01	08
„ 00	09
„ 01	06
„ 00	08
„ 00	04
,. 02	00
,, 01	00

^01 06 03

>*■

fiuvzn. Obiniaivieimt

f'HOIvl

OLD K£Y5$ FROM VARIOUS PI<A£JE3 tN tttE CJOIJNTY OF r>ERBV,

4'

ANTIQUE SILVER ORNAMENT FROM DALE ABBEY.

HIS curious old relic of which we give an illustration, was found many years ago at Dale Abbey, by a farm-servant, in whose possession it remained for some time, and was then sold to a watch- maker in Derby, from whose hands it passed into our own. We are unable to judge correctly to what purpose it was originally applied, but as there is a crown distinctly visible in the upper portion, and as the cro^vn is one of the emblems of the Virgin Mary, to whom the Abbey was dedicated, we may safely conclude it formed a portion of the sacred regalia, before its dissolution in the reign of Henry 8th. The sketch is the full size of the original, which is hollowed so as to fit a round staff, and is beautifully chased in high relief.

The Old Keys illustrated on the same plate, have originally belonged to various old oaken car\'ed coffers or chests, of which many may still be found in the rural districts, and of which we possess several good specimens.

A WONDERFUL EATER

|HE following particulars have been copied from a wTitten manuscript kept by the late parish clerk of Stanton-by-Dale, and ar^ verified by the signatures of Richard Mee, John Foxon, Francis Hooley, and William Shepherd, four names well known in that district. — On the evening of Saturday, May 3, 1777, a man named Ralph Oakley, got his supper at the sign of the Red Lion, at Stanton-by-Dale, of the following different articles : — His first dish was two quarts of milk, thirty eggs, half-a-pound of butter, half-a-pound of sugar, three penny loaves, a quantity of ginger and nutmeg, and an ounce of mustard, all boiled together. His second course consisted of a piece of cheese, and a pound of boiled bacon to it. His third was half-a-pound of bacon, fried ; a penny loaf, a quart of ale, three half- penny worth of gingerbread, and then a pint of ale. His fourth was a custard (from new cheese) of two pounds ; an ounce of mustard and some pepper as the sauce to it, mi.xed with a ])int of new milk. He then had three pints of ale to wash all down. All these things he dispatched in less than an hour, and swore that he could eat as much more. Immediately after this supper he ran for a wager, a distance of three hundred yards, with a young man (a stranger to Stanton) of the name of Windley, and beat him b)- a score yards at least : afterwards he sat down with the rest of the people in the house, and drank as freely as any of them for nearly two hours.

DERBYSHIRE WIT

GIRL, from Derbyshire, lately went to one of the Draper's shops in Nottingham, and asked for " Three yards of grane rib'n." The shopman instantly looked for the article ; but not having any ribbon of the sort wanted, told her he would cut her three yards of pur|)le ribbon ; and if she would '' conceive " it was green, it would answer all the same jjurpose. The three yards were cut, wrapped up, and given to the girl, who instantly made for the shop door, but was called to for payment, upon which she naively replied, " Ha mut consate ha wor pede, an it wud anser aw the same perpos."

E

42

JOSEPH BROTHERTON, M.P.

We live in deeds not years, in thoughts not breaths. In feelings not in figures on a dial. We should count time by heart-throbs. He most lives Who thinks most : feels the noblest : acts the best.

Bailey.

a^E hope the reader understands that our purpose in these Biographical Sketches, is not to attempt the methodical arrangement of a Biographical Dictionar)^ in which the number and proportional length of the articles are matters to be considered ; but rather to select some prominent Derbyshire names, to which opportunity and inclination may attract. Hence the length and structure of each sketch depends on the amount of materials accessible to the writer, his judgment and taste in choosing from them, and his faciUty in the narration.

Having said this much as to design, we would also add that the department of biography is crowded with the lives of men distinguished in War, Politics, Science, Literature, and the Professions. All the embellishments of rhetoric and the imagination have been essayed to captivate, stimulate, and direct into these " upper walks of life," as they are entitled, the youthful mind and ambition of the countr\'. Not content to make the colleges and higher educational institutions hotbeds and nurseries to germinate and train aspirations for fame, military and ci\dc, the most brilliant achievements in the field, the forum, the hall, and at the bar, of the great men of the past and present, have been exhibited in colours warm and glowing, to charm and inspire. 'Example has been added to precept ; the teachings of the lecture-room have been enforced by illustrations from real life, and the chaplet of glorj- and renown has been held up as the great and only prize.

The result of this system is manifest, pettifoggers, quacks, pedants, demagogues, and militarj' officers are manufactured wholesale. Thousands of young men of ability are lured into professions for which they are unsuited, while everything of a commercial, agricultural, or mechanical character is considered low. We think all the great divisions of labour should be honoured, and the paths of labour should be indicated, as the real highways to honour.

In this view we present the subject of this sketch ; a man of the people, with an education merely fitted for his business and trade ; who, by the force of high purpose and invincible resolution, industry, energy, enterprise, and bold mind, and an honest heart, not only achieved independence, but won a name for sagacity, public spirit, punctuality, and probity, that reflects the highest honour on labour and on his countr)'.

Mr. Joseph Brotherton was a native of 'WTiittington, near Chesterfield, and was descended of reputable, though not wealthy parents, his father John Brotherton, having kept a boarding-school. He was bom May 22nd, 1783. At the age of boyhood he was sent to a factory to assist in earning his living. It was customary at that period for small farmers and tradesmen to send their sons to a factor)', much as the)- now do to a merchant's warehouse to learn a trade and acquire business habits. From a factory lad he made his way as a commercial man, and by steadfast perseverance and judgment, he ultimately became a partner in business as a cotton spinner with Mr. Alderman Hervey at Manchester, but retired from the partnership about 30 years before he died, on what was considered a very moderate competence, but wth sufficient for a man of his economical and quiet habits. From an early age he was a total abstainer from intoxicating drinks, and was also a vegetarian, having early joined a religious sect in Salford who were abstainers and vegetarians. As a pohtician he had also formed opinions early, and at the close of the war in 1815, he was connected with an influential party in Manchester, who might be considered the connecting Unk between the reformers of 1794 and those of a later day, but he did not join the more extreme part)- of Hunt and Cobbett. In the years 1817-19, however, during the suspension of the Habeas Coqius Act, he was one of those who

JOSEPH BROTHER-TON , ESQ MR BOKN AT WHIXTINGTON, DERBYSHIRE.

t

I

JOSEPH BROTHERTON, M.P. 43

stood forward to demand a fair trial for tlie poor men who were thrown into gaol at that period ; and after the Peterloo riot of 18 19, he aided in getting u]) a subscription for the sufferers. He was what was locally called a rational radical, and joined heartily in the struggle for the Reform Bill. The people of Salford properly marked their sense of his services in assisting to enfranchise their borough, by electing him as the first member, in 1832. In the house he showed himself ever a consistent and firm advocate of liberal opinions ; all progressive measures, and especially all of a benevolent and educational character, had his earnest and staunch support. He carried his love of reform even to amending the mode of canning on business in Parliament. Every politician knows how strenuous were his efforts to shorten the sittings of the Commons after midnight. In his attendance upon his parliamentary duties, Mr. Brotherton was most assiduous. Rarely was the Speaker in the chair and Mr. Brotherton absent; and it was not an unfre(|uent occurrence for the Speaker to call upon the hon. Member to move the adjournment of the House, when the Secretary to the Treasury had retired. Mr. B. was Chairman of the Pri\ate Bills' Committee. He took so lively an interest in the business arrangements of the House of Commons, that it was his invariable custom, at the close? of each session, to move for a series of returns showing the progress of public and private business ; the number and duration of sittings, and the number of divisions. Though representing a manufacturing constituency, he was a warm advocate with Lord Ashley, now Earl of Shaftesbury, and the late Mr. Fielding, of the Ten Hours' Bill ; and he was accustomed to deduce arguments in its favour from his own career !

He was always an opponent of the Corn Laws. He jjrotested against them when they were first imjjosed in 1815, and continued to take every opportunity of seeking their repeal down to the formation of the Anti-Corn Law League, of which he was an active member, ever ready to go upon dejii^tions and other business along witli Messrs. Cobden, Bright, and others.

Mr. Brotherton died very suddenly on the 7th Januar)-, 1857, about 5 minutes to 11 o'clock in the morning, while travelling in an omnibus from his residence at Pendleton, through Salford, to keep an appointment in Manchester. Mr. B. had been suffering from an affection of the heart for some time, but still was in his usual apparent health up to the time he entered the omnibus, and had on the previous day presided as a Magistrate at the Salford Police Court. In the omnibus with him were some friends, and Sir John Potter had but just given him an invitation to spend an evening with him during the following week, when a sudden change of countenance in the hon. Member attracted the notice of Sir John, who observed — " How ill he looks I " and immediately he had uttered the words, Mr. Brotherton reclined gently backwards as if for support. The omnibus was at once stopped, and Mr. B. was carried into the house of a surgeon close at hand, but the time had already gone by when any human aid could avail, and it is believed that he had ceased to e.vist before he was taken out of the omnibus.

It is difficult to mention a man in his own neighbourhood whose death could have occasioned greater regret. He had lived such a life of usefulness, was of such a placid, inoffensive demeanour, combined with honourable consistency in public life, that he had won more esteem and friendship than most ))oliticians of his class have the good fortune to secure.

The Manchester Guardian gives this reference to his private life : —

" In unceasing efforls to promole commercial freedom, social improvement, popular education, and every great and good object, Mr. Brotherton was accustomed to pass those intervals, short and few, which the recesses of Parliament left at his disposal. This whole time (save when of late years impaired health rendered it necessary for him to seek restoration in the fresh breezes of some bathing places on the coast,) was devoted at home, as in Parliament, to the fulfilment of his various self- imposed duties. Upon the magisterial bench, on local committees, in public meetings, he was always ready to help forward, with the full weight of his iniluencc, and with the sage counsels of a ripe experience of public affairs, every good and benevolent work. His high character, strict probity, readiness to serve others, and great business capacity, imposed upon him more fre'iuently, and often more onerously than desirable, the duties of executor for some deceased friend —duties which, like all others, public and private, he discharged under a solemn sense of his responsibility. Of his kindness to all who sought his aid or advice, his ever warm and deep sympathies for the poorer clxsses of the community, his sincere and steady friendships, and his alTectionate intercourse with his family, his relatives, and intimate friends, a public journal is scarcely thcj fitting voucher ur recorder. It must suffice to say that in all the relations of life he was exemplary."

^ JOSEPH BROTHERTON, M.P.

The Corporation of Manchester and Salford adopted resolutions expressing their deep regret at the loss experienced by the death of Mr. Brotherton. The ]\Ierchants did the same. All classes vied in doing honour to his memory. We have only room for the following resolution, as a sample of others :—

" That the Justices for tlie City of Manchester fully sj-mpatbise with their fellow-citizens in the feeling of regret, so general in this large community, at the death of Mr. Brotherton. He has been one of their body since its first formation ; and, although his services as a Magistrate have for the most part been given as a County Justice, yet in any matters of great interest, when his other duties have allowed him, he has always been disposed and ready to give the benefit of his experience and counsel within the city. For all these qualities which have rendered his public services so eminent, in the various capacities in which he has rendered them, his sound judgment, his calm temper, his persevering energy, the unvarying interest he has ever taken in all measures to promote the amelioration or happiness of his fellow-subjects, the Justices entertain the most profound respect. At the present moment their feelings partake more of a personal nature ; they deplore the loss of one who has been bound to them by many ties of friendship, and whose gentle and kindly disposition has attracted the affection and regard of all who have been brought into intercourse with him."

A Statue of Joseph Brotherton, M. P., has been erected to his memorj- in the Peel Park, Salford. At the inauguration of this monument, at which the Mayor presided, the Bishop of Manchester gave utterance to the following sentiments : —

"Bom," he said, "not among the operative class, yet, at the same time, labouring for a considerable portion of his life with them, he learnt to estimate their situation, to sj-mpathise ^>-ith their feelings, to note their privations, and he appeared to have devoted himself, as an ardent and zealous practical missionary, in their cause. Retiring at a period when most persons are eager in the pursuit of reputation or of gain, and on a moderate competency, which was wealth to him, for his wants were few, he devoted himself with unceasing energy to his duties as a citizen. But though calm and quiet as regarded hiniself, he was not wanting in a high spirit as regarded the wrongs of others. When the Government of the country, exceeding the due bounds of moderation, were attempt- ing to put down by unjustifiable violence the expression of the popular will, Joseph Brotherton, then a simple inhabitant of Salford, was one of the most earnest and most forward to join in the protest The local charter and charities of Salford, and innumerable public services there, attested his devotion to the cause of his constituency. Re\iewing his career, it was perfectly astonishing to see with what assiduous zeal and energy, yet at the same time how modestly, he took part in every measure that was brought forward for the benefit of others during the last forty years, which no person who dispassionately considered the history of England would hesitate to acknowledge had been pre-eminently remarkable for social alterations. In the department of private legislation, Mr. Brotherton was unrivalled, and in the latter years of his life his word was considered conclusive almost on the subject of a private bill. With respect to his religious convictions, Mr. Brotherton possessed the most extensive toleration, yet was not indifferent himself to what he professed. To quote his own declaration, he had always been educated in religious precepts and taught to believe in God, in His revealed Word, and he believed that the Redeemer came to rescue man from darkness and error, to implant truth and goodness in his mind, and to make him wise and good. It was on that principle that Mr. Brotherton acted through all his life. If he advocated the extension of the franchise, he was still more zealously an advocate of the education of the people, to enable them worthily to discharge tlie high duties of a constituent. Wishing to retrench the hours of labour, he endeavoured to do so in spite of those nearest connected with him ; but, besides education, he was no less zealous to provide parks, museums, and recreation for the people, to render profitable the hours gained from labour. This was the man whose memory they were assembled to honour and perpetuate. It was a proud period in the history of a country when those who had cultivated the ciril arts were accorded the full reward that was due to them. The people of Salford had done well to erect this statue as a testimony of their determination to reward those who endeavoured to make men better in civil pursuits, to improve their homes, as well as carry on the public business of the country."

The corporate authorities and other persons present, at the conclusion of the Bishop's address, formed in order of procession, and adjourned to the park, when the Statue was uncovered in their presence, and after short addresses from Sir J. Potter, M.P., and Mr. James Brotherton (son of the late member), the formality of handing over the property from the committee to the Corporation was gone through. The statue fronts the principal entrance gates to the park, and is within a short distance of them. The inscription on the face of the pedestal is —

"Joseph Brotherton, the first, and for upwards of twent)'-four successive years, the faithful representative of the borough of Salford in the House of Commons. Bom May 22, 17S3 ; died January 7, 1857."

On the Park side of the statue are the words uttered by the honourable gentleman on a memorable occasion in the House of Commons : —

"My riches consist, not in the extent of my possessions, but in the fewness of my wants."

P / X / //. . -^

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FAC-6IMILt AUTOdRAPH LtTTK R or PHILIP nORMLR STANHOPE. EARL OF CHLSTLRFIELD. IN THC COLLECTIUS iir M~J B ROBI NSON .

45

ORIGINAL LETTERS OF PHILIP DORMER STANHOPE, THE CELEBRATED EARL OF CHESTERFIELD.

HE Letters are addressed to "Mr. Fisher, at his House in Derby," and are very characteristic of the most " perfect gentleman " of his time.

London, Jany. 26th, 1768. Mr. Fisher,

Yesterday I received your letter of the 21st with t^vo bills inclosed, one for ^1250 - 17 - 2, the other for ^^862- 14- ir, the ballance of your accounts, which I find very right.

As I have had various api)lications for what they call my interest for the County of Derby at the approaching general Election. Pray tell whoever it may concern or not, that I am resolved to be scrupu- lously neutral in the dirty work of Elections, and will neither meddle nor make directly or indirectly.

I am.

Your assured friend,

CHESTERFIELD.

London, June 13th, 1769.

Mr. Fisher,

I received yesterday your letter with a Bill of ^1200 which I find very right, and return

you here inclosed one copy signed. I am very glad that you find yourself something better, but I am surprised

that you chuse to consult a Derby Farrier rather than the best and most experienced Physician in England,

Dr. Ed. Wilmot, who is but sixteen miles from you, and allyed to you. Pray either go to him, or desire

him to come to you.

I am,

Your sincere friend,

CHESTERFIELD.

London, Decern: 21st, 1769. Mr. Fisher,

Yesterday I received your letter with the inclosed bill for ^^1054, and your account which I here return you signed.

LT])on your state of the case relative to the free School at Repton, I think Mr. Prior's demands most unreasonable, and as such I shall not com[)Iy with them. It is thus that most charitable foundations have been abused, by filching gradually something from the real objects of them, to gratify the Master, the Treasury, the Secretary, &cra. That is what I call Sacrilege, and not the stealing of a jjulpit cloth, or a common prayer book out of a church.

I am.

Your sincere friend,

CHESTERFIELD.

.g ORIGINAL LETTERS OF THE EARL OF CHESTERFIELD.

London, May 5th, 1770. Mr. Fisher,

I have just now received your letter of the 3d with an inclosed bill of ^1000 for part of the hah" years rent due last Michaelmas.

The number of Deer which you mention in Brettby Park is I think fully sufficient, and yet will admitt of taking in Beasts.

I cannot answer your kind inquirys after my health as either you or I could wish, for without having any particular distemper, I have all the many inconveniencys of seventy six ; I am weak and low spirited, and my sleep and appetite decrease every day, and the final day I believe draws very near. I take it that you and I are very near of an age, and I wish you may be free from all the disagreable concomitants of old age, which I feell, for

I am,

Your very- sincere friend,

CHESTERFIELD.

London, July y" 2ist, 1770. Mr. Fisher,

I send you here inclosed a letter which I received by the last post from Mr. Fletcher. You will do what you please in the affair, that is, what is for my reasonable advantage, and not too hard upon the Parson.

I am.

Your sincere friend,

CHESTERFIELD.

CAPTAIN CURZON AND HIS HORSE.

MONG the many episodes of a battle-field, there are none so touching as the last moments of a brave soldier. Capt. Curzon, son of Lord Scarsdale, was on the staff, and received a mortal wound towards the end of the battle, and lay bleeding to death by the side of his favourite charger, one of whose legs had been shattered by a cannon ball. As Lord March was passing by, Curzon had just strength to call to him, " Get me help, my dear March, for I fear it is all over with me." Lord March hastened to look for a Surgeon, and found one belonging to the first battalion of our regiment, who went to the poor fellow's assistance ; but, alas ! life was extinct before the doctor arrived. The doctor, in relating this event to us afterwards, said, " I found poor Curzon dead, leaning his head upon the neck of his favourite horse, who seemed to be aware of the death of his master, so quiet did it remain, as if afraid to disturb his last sleep. As I approached, it neighed feebly, and looked at me as if it wanted relief from the pain of its shattered limb, so I told a soldier to shoot it through the head to put it out of its pain. The horse as well as its master were both old acquaintances of mine, and I was quite upset by the sight of them lying dead together." This tribute of sraipathy and feeling was the more remarkable as coming from the Doctor, who was one of the hardest and roughest diamonds I ever remember to have known ; but on this occasion something moved him, and he had tears in his e)-es as he related the incident. — Gronow's Second Series of Recollections of Waterloo, &^e.

47 ROMANCE IN REAL LIFE.

j]N the month of Januar)', 1833, Mrs. Ann Blore, of Derby, published a pamphlet, giving an account of the absconding of her son Isaac Blore, fourteen years previously. From this it appeared, that the latter had been, by his maternal grandfather, a gentleman of considerable property, bound apprentice, at the age of fifteen, to a respectable silk mercer. Not liking the business, and being, according to the pamphlet, ill-treated by his master, he represented the same to his grandfather, who, however, refused to listen to him. Immediately after this in July, 1819, he absconded, and up to the end of March, 1837, was never heard of In the meantime, the grandfather having died, and left a very large property, advertisements were inserted in the papers, all over England, but particularly in those of Liverpool and Manchester, offering large rewards for his discovery. Various reports reached the ears of his parents, one of which was, that he had been killed at Manchester, ha\ing joined the crowd assembled at Peterloo, in which he was crushed to death. Another account said that he had enlisted at Liverjjool, into the 76th Regiment of Foot. Of the numerous narratives which reached Mrs. Blore, not one, if we may trust the evidence of her pamphlet, appears to have been believed, but, with the tenacity of female affection, she clung to hope to the last. About the 20th March, 1837, Mrs. Blore received a letter from Liverpool, which purported to have come from her long-lost son. She immediately sent an individual to that town to have an inter\'iew with the person who had written to her, and to ascertain whether he was really the person he rejiresented himself to be. As Mrs. Blore was requested to address at the Post Office, the individual whom she sent called upon Mr. Banning, with whom he had an interview. The latter sent for Constable Halsall, to whom he intrusted the management of the concern, rightly judging that he would know better how to go about the discovery than a mere stranger. However, the person who had written to Mrs. Blore, called at the Post Office and inquired for a letter, when he was immediately invited to walk into Mr. Banning's office, while Halsall was dispatched in search of Mrs. Blore's messenger. The latter was found, and the requisite inquiries were made. It ajjpeared that he had been residing, during the whole period of his absence in France. On his arrival at Derby, his mother was perfectly satisfied of his identity, and with her long-lost son removed from Derby to Etwall, which place was chosen for their future residence.

A NOCTURNAL VISITOR.

jl.XNY years ago, a Negro Servant, wandering up and down the country out of place, passing through Shipley in the night, stole a goose from the premises of Mr. Beer, a respectable farmer of the village. The Engine-fire of tlie Colliery at that place caught his attention, and he made towards it. The Engine was then worked alternately by two men, one in tiic day and the other during the night. As the Black approached and the glare of the flame was cast on his dusky features, he met the gaze of the solitary wight standing at the door of the Engine-hou.se, who, panic-struck, instantly recognized in him the real existence of the long-doubted tale of his Satanic Majesty, and lletl. It was in vain that the Negro, who well understood the cause of the man's terror, called aloud, " Me am a man, me am no devil ;" he did not seem disposed to place any reliance on the word of one, of whom, during his whole life, he had heard ever)thing that was deceitful and horrible. Leaving the engine to work it.self, or cease as it pleased, he reached home in a most deplorable condition, having shown the utmost contempt for hedges, gorse-bushes, ditches, &c. At break of day, when he with his fellow-workmen ventureil back to the place, contrary to expectation, the terrible visitor had not vanished, but was just throwing away the remains of his repast. The goose when killed, had been, with its feathers on, cased in a thick coat of clay and baked in the engine fire. The capaciousness of the Negro's stomach ceased to he wonderful, when he told them he had been several days without food ; and the fanner, who received early notice of the thief, instead of prosecuting him, as he at first intended, humanely relieved his wants.

48

JOHN FLAMSTEAD,

THE CELEBRATED ASTRONOMER AND MATHEMATICIAN, OF DERBY.

" Honour and adoration, power and praise. To Him who tracks the comet's pathless ways ; Who to the stars has their bright courses given, And to the sun appoints his place in heaven; And rears for man a mansion more sublime, Not built with hands, not doom'd to stoop to time ; Whose strong foundations, unimpaired, shall stay, When sun, and stars, and worlds, and all things pass away."

H E brief sketch here presented is intended to afford an example for emulation. That the memory of such persons, besides being treasured in the hearts of relatives and friends, should have its ^1 record for the generality of people also, is peculiarly proper ; because a knowledge of men whose substantial fame rests upon their attainments, character, and success, must exert a wholesome influence on the rising generation of our people ; while to those who have arrived at a period in life not to be benefitted by lessons designed for less advanced age, it cannot fail to prove interesting.

Individual enterprise, which is so justly the boast of this nation, is here strikingly exhibited. We trust it will instil into the bosom of our children this lesson — that honour and station are the sure reward of continued exertion, and that, compared with a- good education, with habits of honest industry and economy, the greatest wealth would be but a poor inheritance.

John Flamstead, the eminent Astronomer and Mathematician, was the son of Stephen Flamstead, a reputable yeoman of Derby. He was born August ig, 1646, at Denby, to which place his parents had temporarily removed on account of the sickness prevailing in Derby at that time. He was educated at the Free-school in this town, and at fourteen was visited with a severe fit of sickness, which, being followed by other distempers, prevented his going to the university, has had been originally intended.

Taken from school when he was sixteen, he followed his studies at home, particularly mathematics, without assistance. On sending some astronomical calculations to the Royal Society, he received in return a letter of thanks. In 1671 he visited London, and soon after became a student of Jesus-College, Cambridge, where he wTote a tract on the true and apparent diameters of the planets, which, being com- municated to Newton, was made use of by him in his Principia. In 1673 he wrote an Ephemeris, which procured him the friendship of Sir Jonas Moore, at whose desire he drew up one for the King. He also made a barometer, which was presented to his Majesty, who appointed him Royal Astronomer, with a salar}' of one hundred pounds a year.

About this time, having taken his master's degree, he entered into orders ; and was preferred to the living of Burstow, near Blechingley, in Surrey, which he held as long as he lived. In 1675 the Royal obsierv'atory at Greenwich was founded ; and as Mr. Flamstead was the first Astronomer Royal, the edifice is still called Flamstead House. Here, or in the neighbourhood, he continued for the remainder of his life, employed in the promotion of his sublime and favourite science.

Of Mr. Flamstead's eminent abilities, and unwearied application, his valuable work which contained the main operations of his life, the " Historia Ccelestis Britannica," in three large folio volumes, as well as his many contributions published in the " Philosophical Transactions," afford ample evidence. Of the very high estimation in which he was held by the men most distinguished for genius and science among his contemi)oraries, and in which his labours have been esteemed by the ablest astronomers of modern times, we might easily supply abundant testimonies, did space allow. Dr. John Keill says of him: —

JOHN FLAMSTEAD, BORN AT D EN BY.

JOHN K LAM STEAD. .g

"Mr. Flamstead, with indefatigable pains, for more than forty years, watched the motions of the stars, and gave us innumerable observations of the sun, moon, and planets, which he made with very large instruments, exactly divided by the most exquisite art, and fitted with telescopical sights. Whence we are to rely more upon the observations he hath made, than on those that went before him, who had made their observations with the naked eye, without the assistance of telescopes."

In the Gentleman's Magazine for February, 1735, 'his anecdote is preserved.

It appears that Mr. Flamstead would sometimes unbend from his profound studies and invite company to his house, with whom he would enjoy convivial intercourse, and whom he entertained by the pleasantries of wit. On one occasion, it is said that the facetious Thomas Brown was among the guests present ; who, after an elegant dinner, and the cheerful circulation of the glass, was requested to divert the company with some extempore verses. At first he modestly declined : but on being unanimously requested, he wrote the following lines : —

" We here are invited to a Zodiac of mirth.

Where Arits and Scorpio do give it birth.

Here Leo ne'er roars, nor Taurus ne'er bellows.

But Gemini-X^Q we commence merry fellows.

Here Canar and Pisces agree with our wishes,

Whilst all round the table we drink here like fishes.

Let Libra fill wine without old Aquarius,

Whilst quivers of wit fly from Sagittarius,

And to crown all our mirth we will revel in Virgo,

And Capricorn he shall supply us with cargo."

Mr. Flamstead, however, was the associate not only of wits, but of the wise, not the least of whom was Newton, Barrow, Rae, Dr. Wallis, Halley, Molineaux, Cassini, &c.

He was married, but had no children; and died December 31st, 1719, of a strangury. Though he lived to above 73 years of age, yet from his infancy he had been ailing, and in a letter to Mr. Collins, in 1670, he was so ill that he was afraid he might not live to prei)arc his papers for the press, and yet he lived about fifty years aftenvards !

In conclusion, we may observ'e that Mr. Flamstead was one of those indomitable persons whom neither sickness nor poverty could crush ; whose integrity and strength of character must force them into fame, which their modesty never seeks ; who will command the esteem and respect of their conteinporaries and their posterity.

Business men are not unfrequently brought into special notice by the rapid growth of their fortune ; the stream of wealth flows in u])on them. They hasten to be rich — riches give them notoriety — their influence is great. But it is the influence of money. Take this away and they fall out of sight. It was only the golden god that was worshipjjed. So with men of one idea — the idea of riches — they subjugate everything to it — they become wealthy and noted. The world applauds, but it was by abnegating that world they obtained their glory — the glory of selfishness.

Such was not Mr. Flamstead. He was no millionaire; he was not the favoured son of lucky accident or speculation — he never victimized his neighbours — in fact he was poor in gold, but rich in .science, anil his name is one that the world of intellect will not

" Willingly let imic."

ANECDOTK UI-' iMK. Fl.AM.STLAl).

Me was known to be a great Astronomer, and persons of his profession are often supposed, by the common people, to be capable of foretelling events. In this persuasion, a poor washerwoman of tJrccnwich, (where he was Astronomer Royal,) who had been robbed at night of a large parcel of linen, to her almost ruin, if forced to pay for it, came (o him, and with great .-inxicty earnestly requested him to use his art, to let her know where her things were, and who had robl>cd her. He happened to be in the humour to joke ; and bid her stay, and lie would sec what he could do ; perhaps she might find them ; but wlm

-Q JOHN FLAMSTEAD.

the persons were he would not undertake to say, and as she could have no positive proof to convict them, it would be useless. He then set about drawing circles, squares, &c., to amuse her ; and after some time, told her, if she would go into a particular field, that in such a part of it, in a dry ditch, she would find them all bundled up in a sheet. The woman went, and finding them, came with great haste and joy to thank him, and offered him half-a-crown as a token of gratitude, being as much as she could afford. Mr. Flamstead, surprised himself, told her — " Good woman, I am heartily glad you have found your linen, but I assure you I knew nothing of it, and intended only to joke with you, and then to have read you a lecture on the folly of applying to any person to know events not in the human power to tell ; but I see the devil has a mind I should deal with him ; I am determined I will not : so never come, or send any one, to me any more, on such occasions, for I never will attempt such an affair again whilst I live." This anecdote Mr. Flamstead told to the reverend and learned Mr. Whiston, his intimate friend and associate.

■SP'

• ^t'ftl'OH' .

SI

RISLEY HALL.

" When thou haply se'est Some rare noteworthy object in thy travel, Wish me partaker in thy happiness."

Shakespeare.

|HERE is no more interesting scenery and views in England than are to be found in Derbyshire, especially to those who possess a lively sensibility to all the influences of local attachment and native associations. And to anti(iuanes and the lovers of nature generally, this fine old county and its historical associations alike commend themselves ; and we can scarce tread any part of the county but we set

" Our foot upon some reverend historv."

We might dilate upon the sylvan beauties of our villages, such as Ashford-in-the-Water ; our wild dales, such as Dove Dale ; our winding and classic rivers, like the Wye, the Dove, and the Der^vent, in whose praise, Drayton, in his Polyolbion, while chanting the praises of the Trent, says —

" She takes into her train rich Dove, and Darwin clear — Darwin, whose font and fall are both in Derbyshire ; And of those thirty floods that wait the Trent upon. Doth stand without compare, the very Paragon."

Our savage-like solitudes such as Chee Tor — the deep clefts of Cressbrook, the rocky passes of Miller's Dale — the fairy scenes of Monsal, the gorgeous mansion of Chatsworth ; and say that for beauty, variety, and artistic attractions, Derbyshire can bear comparison with any spot in Britain.

Among the many interesting villages of South Derbyshire, there is perhaps none more pleasant than Risley, the old seat of a branch of the noble Family of Willoughby. The picturesque old stone gateways, the terrace nearly three hundred feet long, moat, and remains of the fine old Hall attest the glories of the past.

Risley Hall, in the hundred of Morleston and Litchurch, and in the deanery of Derby, lies on the road from Derby to Nottingham, eight miles distant from each. Roger de Busli appears to have been Lord of Risley when the survey of Domesday was taken ; but in the same record it is stated that Levinus possessed one-third of the manor, and that he was succeeded by his son. In the reign of Edward the First, William Morteyne held the manor under the Pavely family. We learn also that Risley was granted in the reign of Edward the Third, to Geoffrey, son of Roger Mortimer, Earl of March ; and was afterwards the property of the Lords Sheffield, ancestors to the Duke of Buckingham. It was purchased of them by the Willoughby's of Risley, in the year 1587. Michael Willoughby and Katherine his wife built the domestic Chapel in 1593, and founded the School which they endowed with twenty nobles, aftenvards increased by their Grandson, Sir Henry Willoughby, to twenty marks. The heiress of the Willoughby's, Elizabeth, married the Honourable Anchitel Grey, brother to Lord Stamford, whose daughter and heir built the present head-master's house, anno 1706; also the Latin School and otlier buildings, and increased the endowment with money and lands, now amounting to about jCaoo pc annum. She had left in her will " so much oak to be cut out of her Park at Risley as would be required to complete these buildings," biit happily lived to see them finished. This benevolent Lady was buried with her ancestors in the old Church of St. Chad, at Wilne, in the chancel of which, and also in the beautiful chapel on the south side, are some interesting Brasses and Tombs of the family. This chapel is attached to the manor of Risley. Sir Hugh Willoughby, the first Arctic circumnavigator, who was frozen to death in the time of Queen Elizabeth, was of this family, and a most interesting full length portrait of him is now in the jiossession of Lord Middleton, and hangs in the Hall at Woollaton.

It was of the above-mentioned Sir Hugh Willoughby, that Thomson in his " Siwors " so emphatically spoke in these lines —

S2

RISLEY HALL.

' Here Winter holds his unrejoicing court ; And through his airy hall, the loud misrule Of driving tempest is for ever heard : Here the grim tj'rant meditates his wrath ; Here arms his winds with all-subduing frost ; Moulds his fierce hail, and treasures up his snows, With which he now oppresses half the globe. • •»••»•»•

Miserable they Who here entangled in the gathering ice. Take their last look at the descending sun : Wliile full of death, and fierce with tenfold frost. The long, long night, incumbent o'er their heads. Falls horrible. Such was the Briton's* fate As with first prow (what have not Britons dar'd ? ) He for the passage sought, attempted since So much in vain, and seeming to be shut By jealous nature with eternal bars. In these fell regions, in Arzina caught. And to the stony deep, his idle ship Immediate seal'd, he, with his hapless crew, Each full exerted to his sev'ral task. Froze into statues ; to the cordage glued The sailor, and the pilot to the helm."

On the 9th of June, 1729, there was found in Risley Park, near the site of the ancient Manor House, a large silver dish, or salver, of antique basso relievo, and of Roman workmanship. Dr. Stukeley, by whom an account of it is given, observes that it was 29 inches long, 15 inches broad, and weighed seven pounds. Upon the face were a variety of figures, representing rural sports, employments, and religious rites. It stood upon a square base, or foot ; and round the bottom, and on the outside, this inscription was rudely cut 'with a pointed instrument in Roman characters of the fourth centur)- : —

EXSYPERIVS EPISCOPVS ECLESIAE BOGIENSI DEBIT.

Dr. Stukeley supposed the meaning of this was that it was given by " Exsuperius, Bishop of Bayeux and Toulouse in the year 405, to the Church of Bouges ; " near which a battle was fought in 142 1, between the Scots, under the Duke D' Alenson, who was quartered in the church, and the English, under Thomas, Duke of Clarence, brother to Henry the Fifth, who was slain here. At this time it is supposed to have been brought from the church as a trophy and given to Dale Abbey for an ornamentation to the altar there. At the time of the dissolution, it was here hidden, probably to prevent the King's inquisitors taking it.

The object of the various endowments of Risley^ School are described in Tyson's Derbyshire, to be " the more comfortable maintenance of a schoolmaster and usher to teach all children of the inhabitants of Risley, and the sons only of the inhabitants of Breaston, Sandiacre, Dale Abbey, Stanton near Dale, Wilsthorp, Draycote, Little ^^llne, and Hopwell : the boys to be taught to read, write, and cast accounts, and so much of trigonometry as relates to the more useful parts of mathematics ; and the head-master to teach grammar and the classics to such boys as are qualified and desirous to learn, both masters to be constantly resident in the school house. The minister of the chapel appears to have been the head-master from the time of Mrs. Grey's foundation. AVe have not been able to learn what is the present value of the endowment; but it was returned at ;^ioo per annum in 1787. In the return of charitable donations then made to the House of Commons, it is observed that the Grammar School had been a sinecure for many years ; that a bill in chancery was filed in Lord Bathurst's time against the master, but it was dismissed."

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WMmm"'Mi"A

ill '■ / // Jim •' ' t V-'

RISLEV IIAI.L. c.

The Manor of Risley, together with the adjoining one of Breaston (also formerly parcel of the Willoughby domain, within the Great Honour of Tutbury,) came by purchase to J. Lewis Fytche, of Thorpe Hall, Ks(iuire, High Sheriff of the County of Lincoln, who, as visitor of the Schools, is now in conjunction with the Trustees endeavouring to restore them in accordance with the wishes and intentions of the benevolent founders.

Wc are glad that the historical old site has fallen into the hands of the present proprietor, who, as a Fellow of the Society of Antiquaries, is both able and willing to restore and preserve a spot, associated with so many venerable events of past generations.

ENGRAVING ON BLACK MARBLE

HIS art was first practised by the late Mr. Henry Moore, Artist, of Derby, who introduced an entirely new method of operating upon marble, which is noticed in this relation of the progressive improvements he has successively made in the art — an art which has originated in this county, discovered and brought to great perfection by a native of it, and practised upon a material produced in the county, which is the black marble of Ashford and Bakewell. Many persons have, at different times, laid claim to the discovery of this art ; and what is rather curious, those claimants have always been young men, while Mr. Moore had jiractised it before they were bom : and although the first manner was extremely simple, being merely an etching process, it remained in his own hands many years. Being desirous to produce something new in marble, he (as a mere novelty) scratched a sleeping cupid u])on a small slab with a dry point, in the manner W'orlidge used that instrument on copper, only reversing the use of the scratching, which on the marble produced the lights, while on copper it affected the shades. The semitones produced by this process disappeared very soon, and the subject altogether became very much deteriorated by a little handling ; he, therefore, did not think proper to pursue so evanescent a system of art. Mr. Moore's next plan was to improve the etching department by decomposing the black car- bonaceous colouring matter of the marble, to the various degrees of tint required by the subject that may be undertaken. He proceeded upon the same princijjle as that of Mezzotinto engraving, viz., from a uniform black of the greatest density, to work out the subject, whether ])ortrait, landscape, or flowers. This system is also very superior for hieroglyi)hic. aral)es(|ue. and all other kinds of ornament, it brings the ground of the ornament (or whatever may be required) to a durable, uniform, and agreeable drab colour. The old method produces only a dead black ground, which is whitewashed : so fragile is this artificial colouring that every touch injures it, but the drab colour of the imjaroved process will bear washing with water, tuqwntine, &c., with which any dirty smearing that may accidentally ha])pen to it may be removed ; but such treatment in the other case would bring away the whitewash altogether. His- last and most important improvement consists in decomposing the black without destroying the polish of the marble. No corrosion of the surface takes ])la(e by this jirocess, and a richness of effect is produced by it, eminently superior to the other modes. The circumstance of the i)olish remaining after the operations of this process surprises the oldest workers of marble, and is also a puzzler to some great chemists.

54

SAMUEL HARRISON,

THE TENOR SINGER, OF BELTER, DERBYSHIRE.

" To Music be the verse adJrest ;

To Music, soft'ner of the mind,

And what from woe relieves ;

'Tis Music lilie the Syren's charms.

With tend'rest love the bosom warms ;

But not like them deceives."

VERY movement which has for its object the social amelioration of the people should be hailed as the dawn of a better state of things. The establishment of Mechanics' Institutions, Lyceums, and Industrial Exhibitions, should be supported by all, according to their ability. Innocent recreation should be extensively diffused, and all exhibitions and games which encourage the anti-social feelings as zealously discouraged. We, therefore, approve of the spread of Music Halls over the country, as one of the agencies of civilization. Music, both vocal and instrumental, but especially vocal music, aids in refining and softening down the asperities of the human breast.

From the Spartan fife to the music of the modern opera or concert, what a history of the influences of sweet sounds might not be written !

Shakespeare said wisely — " The man that hath not music in his soul, was fit for stratagems and treasons," and it is doubtless true that the finest natures are attuned to sweet sounds. Artistic music, how it can aff"ect us ! How the " silver snarling trumpets," or the rolling drums will stir the soldier's heart, how the violin will set us leaping to a waltz ; how sometimes it will sadden the thoughtful mind, lull the wearied breast, or recal joyous passages in our memor>- of the past ! \Vho has not ere now been led by a tune or song to be quite forgetful of persons, place, and time.

Singing, like everything else, can be carried to excess, until it becomes a burlesque; nevertheless, we have always thought that Mr. Haliburton, the lately deceased Member of Parliament, went rather too far, when he put into the mouth of " Sam Slick," the following critique on an operatic songstress : —

( " Now comes singin' ; see what faces she makes ; how she stretches her mouth open, like a barn-door, and turns up the white of her eyes like a duck at thunder. She's in a musical ecstacy, is that gal ; she feels good all over ; her soul is a goin' out along with that ere music. Oh, it's divine ; and she's an angel, ain't she t Yes I guess she is ; and when I'm an angel, I will fall in love with

her; but as I'm a man— at least what's left of me— -I'd jist as soon fall in love with one that was a leetle, jist a leetle, more of a woman, and a leetle, jist a leetle, less of an angel. :But hallo ! what onder the sun is she about ? Why, her voice is goin' down her own throat, to gain strength, and here it comes out as deep-toned as a man's, while that dandy fellow alongside of her is singin' what they call falsetter. They've actilly changed voices.? . The gal sings like a man, and that screamer like a woman. This is science —

this is taste — this is fashion."

The subject of our present sketch, who has called forth these preliminary remarks, was not a singer after Sam Slick's fashion, but one of the most finished and eminent tenor vocalists of his day. And here we may as well state, that Derbyshire has had the honour of producing the finest Tenor, (Mr. Harrison,) and the best Bass, (Mr. Slack,) of their time ; and both had the honour of giving performances before King George the Third.

Samuel Harrison, the Tenor, was bom at Belper, in the county of Derby, on the 8th of September, 1760, and died in Percy Street, London, June 25th, 1812, of an inflammation of the bowels, after suffering the most excruciating agony for twenty-four hours. He left a widow, two accomplished daughters, and a son to mourn his loss. We believe many of his relatives are still alive in the parish where he was born, and doubtless have many green spots in their memories of the gifted individual long since passed away.

SAMUEL HARRI30N ESQ"* THE EMINESr S I N G f. R . BORN AT 8EUVEK, DERbYSHlRE

SAMUEL HARRISON.

55

Mr. Harrison amidst much excitement and the necessary temptation of a public life, retained and maintained strong good sense, integrity of conduct, consistency of purpose, and was just, charitable, unostentatious, and possessed of generally amiable qualities. It is especially recorded that he was ever ready to assist in everj' way his struggling professional brethren, all of whom highly esteemed him, as did also an extensive general acquaintance. If to adhere to what is just, kind, and honourable, throughout a lifetime, is the character of a true christian, then Mr. Harrison deserves the title.

During a quarter of a century Mr. Harrison was the leading Tenor Singer in the kingdom. He greatly distinguished himself at the commemmoration of Handel, the celebrated composer, in 1784, in opening the " Messiah." Although Mr. Harrison was then a verj' young man, and there were many older competitors for this honour, the part was allotted to him, as being equal to the occasion, by command of his Majesty, who had, with admiration previously heard him sing it at the Queen's Palace. His correctness and efficiency justified the King's discernment that the " right man was in the right place."

In the performance of the celebrated recitative, or rather Aria Parlaiite, "Comfort ye my people," and in the air, " Every valley shall be exalted," he has ever since been considered, by the best judges of musical expression, to stand unrivalled ! A perfect intonation ; a peculiar sweetness of voice ; discriminating mind ; correct, polished and energetic delivery ; a brilliancy and equability of shake, are requisites in which few could approach him. Had his physical powers been equal to his taste, his feelings, and his science, he would in all [points have been unrivalled, as a singer of sacred music, at least. His pathetic delivery of " Total Eclipse," " Lord remember David," " Oft on a plot of rising ground," and " Gentle airs," the last strain he ever sung, (and which was enthusiastically encored) together with other plaintive airs of Handel, that do not depend upon noise or confusion for their effect, these have not been forgotten by those still alive, whose minds and judgments were capable of appreciating musical excellence.

Many traditionary relics are floating about the neighbourhoods where his performances were most frequent, and his power to move the passions. How he would lead the hearer into a dreamy softness, now mounting into a higher and higher flight, until he broke forth .sublime, impassioned, daring. He would sometimes captivate by the apparent recklessness of his movements, then enchant by the completeness of his performance. In some of Handel's pieces, he would express all passions, rejoice with the glad, and weep with the sad. There was nothing that in logical words, which he could not express in musical sound ! In listening to him, you were reminded that no jiaradise was ever conceived without music ; and when we hear it, we are wrajit into the heaven that i)ure sensation and ardent aff'ection raises up for us here.

Said we not therefore, that music is a grand civilizational agency, and that to all it may be commended ; and we further say, that by it even the selfish may thereby still more enjoy their individuality in the abstraction of its beauty, while those who feel and confess the bond of fellowship, will find in vocal music a ready way to the hand and heart of social intercourse.

And surely, we may embalm the memory of those t\vo eminent and fascinating pioneers of this civilizing agency, especially as both Messrs. Harrison and Slack have shed some lustre not only on Music, but on our native county.

56

DECLARATIONS & RESOLUTIONS OF THE MEASHAM VOLUNTEER INFANTRY, JUNE 6th, 1798.

T a Meeting of the MEASHAM and OAKTHORPE Association held this day,

The following Declarations, Oath, and Resolutions, were severally read, adopted, signed, and the same ordered to be Printed and Distributed.

Declarations,

I St. '' I ""HAT being convinced it is our duty to assist the Executive Government in protecting our J- Laws and Constitution, — We declare that we have enrolled ourselves in this Corps, and do confinTi it by signing our Names hereunder, for the protection of Property, and the preservation of Tranquility in the Parish of Measham, and Township of Oakthorpc ; and do agree, and abide by our former Declaration in assisting ( if necessary ) the Association of Ashby, Packington and IVi/ksIey, to quell any Riot, to restore Tranquility in their respective Parishes, when we can leave Measham -with propriety, as shall be determined by a Majority of this Association.

2nd. That it is our detemrination to provoke no one by insult, but in every situation to demean

ourselves as peaceful Inhabitants, and good Subjects, and, that the World may judge of the purity of our intentions, we have severally taken and subscribed the Oath following.

Oath.

I — A. B. — do sincerely promise and swear that I will be faithful and bear true Allegiance to

his Majesty King George, and that I will support the Constitution of my Country as estabhshed

by Law.

So help me God. Resolutions.

I St. That as the most perfect confidence in each other is absolutely essential to the existence and

prosperity of the Corps, any ten Gentlemen may sign a requisition to the Commanding Officer for a Ballot of the whole Corps on any Name which they wish to have erased from the Roll, and the Majority on such Ballot shall determine whether the Name shall be retained or erased.

2nd. That the Corps will ( until a future Regulation shall take place ) meet to exercise every evening

( Sunday excepted ) at Seven o'Clock by the Cotton Mill Clock at Measham, at the Bowling Green at the Union Inn, or such place as shall be appointed by the Association at the time of their respective Meetings, and that every Volunteer who does not appear on Parade at the place so appointed, shall on his next appearance there forfeit 77iree-pence, unless prevented by sickness or lameness.

3rd. That any Volunteer coming intoxicated to Parade, shall for every offence forfeit One SliilUng.

4th. That any Gentleman Swearing on Parade, shall for every offence forfeit Threepence.

5th. That any Gentleman talking during Exercise, except for the purpose of obtaining information

from his Ofiicer or Serjeant, shall for each offence forfeit Threc-pmce.

6th. That if any Gentleman who has enrolled, or may hereafter enrol his Name, shall withdraw

himself from the Corps without previously assigning such reasons as shall in the opinion of a Majority of the Corps be deemed sufficient for his so doing, he shall be deemed a Coivard and voted to Coventry.

DECLARATIONS AND RESOLUTIONS OF THE MEASHAM VOLUNTEER INFANTRY. r-

7th. That every Question subject to the decision of the Coqis ( except such as shall be w-ithin the

meaning of the ne.xt Resolution ) shall be determined by the Majority present at the time of its arising, or at such time as the Majority shall then fix for determining the same.

8th. That the payment of all Fines supposed to be incurred by all or any of the Volunteers when

at their Post, shall be determined by the eight Gentlemen nearest on the Right and Left Hand of the Person considered liable to pay the same immediately on his being charged with the Ufl'cnce subjecting him thereto.

9th. That every Regulation or Resolution which shall hereafter be thought necessary, either for the

alteration or improvement of the Rules for the Government of this Corps, shall be given in Writing to the Commanding Officer, to be by him read to the Corps on the next Parade for their con- sideration, until the same day in the following Week, on which the same shall be so communicated, when the Coqjs shall determine as to the adoption or rejection of such Regulation or Resolution as originally proposed, or as the same may be then altered.

loth. That if any Gentleman be absent from the place of Exercise after standing at Ease without the

permission of the Commanding Officer, when the Drum has beat the Long Roll, he shall forfeit Three-pence.

nth. That every Volunteer divulging any Transactions of the Corps, that shall by a Majority thereof

be considered injurious thereto, shall forfeit, and subject himself to the payment of Ten Shillings.

That being fully sensible of the honour and obligation conferred upon us by the Assiduities of the Earl of Moira, in obtaining his Majesty's approbation of our Association, and assisting us in the formation of our united Corps of Cavalry and Infantry — We resolve, to be ready on all occasions, to act for the Protection of his Lordships Property and Residence at Donington-Park, and to Preserve Tranquility there, as if the same were situate within the original limits of our Association ; and that a Copy of this Resolution be transmitted by one of our Officers to his Lordshi)>.

A TRADITION OF DARLEY DALE, DERBYSHIRE.

Tis said, that to the brow of yon fair hill

Two brothers clomb; and, turning face from face,

Nor one look more exchanging, grief to still

Or feed, each planted on that lofty place

A chosen tree : then, eager to fulfil<