Tour in England. No. 15.
Thinkingthat our readers had become somewhat satiated with so much upon foreign matters as have hitherto found place in this journal, we had desisted for several months past, giving sketches of the agriculture of England; but having recently received so many solicitations to continue them, we again take up the subject, and shall pursue it pretty regularly through the whole of our third volume, if such seems to be the pleasure of a majority of our subscribers. Perhaps, to these, we may also add sketches of some things we saw in Russia, the recollections of which are very pleasant, at least to us, yet whether we shall make them equally so in relating them to others, remains to be seen.
Chatsworth, Seat of the Duke of Devonshire.—In returning from Yorkshire to London on the North Midland railroad, we stopped at the Chesterfield station, for the purpose of making an excursion to Chatsworth, to view the celebrated gardens and immense conservatory of this superb place. It was a raw morning in August, and as we jumped from a confined seat in the rail-coach, we were glad to be on our feet once more, and have an opportunity of rousing our blood by a smart walk from the station into the town. We stopped at the Angel inn, took a hearty breakfast, and while waiting a gig being made ready to convey us to Chatsworth, stepped out for a stroll over the place. Chesterfield is a dingy old town, of about 6,000 inhabitants, and has little to recommend it to the notice of strangers, save the spire of All Saints' Church. This rises to the height of 230 feet, is curiously channeled, and covered with lead, and is so much out of perpendicular, as to attract marked attention in passing it, even when at a considerable distance. It being market-day, the town was thronged with farmers from the country, exposing stock and agricultural products in the square for sale. There was little in these, however, deserving particular attention, and after giving them a hasty look, we returned to the inn. As we came up, a dapper waiter announced the "oss and gig ashall ready;" when in we jumped, and set out for Chatsworth at a round pace, distant, if we recollect right, about 8 miles.
Derbyshire possesses the wildest and most broken scenery of any county in England, and after passing over the flat surface of Yorkshire, it was quite a relief to find ourselves trotting up and down along a road winding picturesquely around high hills, and over deep narrow dales. An hour's drive or so, brought us to the pretty little village of Edensor, close by the inn of which, is the entrance to Chatsworth. The village is situated within the park, and is the property of the Duke, and certainly it is the most charming one we ever saw. Every cottage is of stone, and no two alike in their architecture. One is a mimic Gothic castle; another a cottage ornèe; a third in the Elizabethan, a fourth in the Swiss, and perhaps a fifth in the Tudor style. Everything then was so complete about them—the pretty gardens full of flowers—the hedges so neatly trimmed—the yards, laid down with the greenest and softest of turf, and the shrubbery so tastefully planted! These were the residences of the laborers on the estate, the possession of which any one might envy them, and desire to be able to call his home. Attached to the village is a fine old church, and around it an ample yard, handsomely walled in with strong mason-work. Altogether, this village is quite a gem in its way, and we were going to add, an epitome of its owner's heart; for on all his estates, whether in England or Ireland, the Duke of Devonshire has made it a point to protect and bountifully provide for his people. There is no want, or suffering, or seeking the poor-house, by the tenantry, allowed by this kind-hearted, benevolent man.
Turning from Edensor, and ascending a mound-like hill to the left of the carriage-road, the palace and the grounds of Chatsworth appear to the greatest advantage. Immediately below is the river Derwent, tracing its sparkling course through a rich vale, where were perhaps 1,500 deer browsing or taking their gambols. A handsome stone bridge spans the river, and just beyond, the ground rises in terraces to a narrow plain, where stand the noble palace, with its out-buildings, and the immense conservatory, in magnificent grandeur. Back of these rises a lofty hill, the steep sides of which are thickly planted with forest-trees, and the summit is crowned with a high tower of octagonal shape, built of stone. We were received atthe palace-gate by a servant in handsome livery, and passing into the gallery of the court, a fine hearty girl made her appearance to conduct us over the building. The front of the palace is 350 feet, and one of the side wings about 400 feet long, and this whole area contains a series of apartments called the drawing-room suite. An entire number of this paper would hardly suffice to give the reader a complete description of these magnificent rooms, and the treasures of art they contain, we therefore pass them over in silence. From these we strolled into the orangery, which is about 30 feet wide, and 200 feet long. It is full of beautiful exotics, and among them were several specimens of the Rhododendron Arboreum, which bore, the preceding summer, over 2,000 flowers. We now walked out to the lawn in front of the palace, where one of the under-gardeners appeared to conduct us over the grounds. These are extremely beautiful, with walled terraces in the Italian style, and fountains. One jet d'eau throws up a column 90 feet high. But the great show here in the way of water-works, is the cascade. It is entirely artificial, and must have been made at a great expense. The water rushes out from a series of lakes on top of the hill, and comes pouring down its side, taking a leap of about 80 feet from one of the arches, and then falls for a length of 300 yards over a series of 24 ledges, and disappears amidst masses of rock, on the edge of the lawn. Here it finds a subterranean passage to the river Derwent. These water-works are looked upon by some critics with affected contempt; not so with us, however, we greatly admired them in their way; and yet we have seen Niagara a thousand times, and had a peep at most of the other water-falls worth looking at in the United States. We have no sympathy with such hypercritics as profess a distaste to the cascade at Chatsworth: as a work of art, it is a magnificent thing, and to our eye, in keeping with the palace and grounds; and we viewed it with interest. A bronze tree a little farther on, excited still greater curiosity with us than the cascade, for it was made to act the part of a fountain, by throwing water from a thousand sprigs and leaves all around in a shower of spray.
But leaving this and the exquisite scenery of the lawn, we passed on by a winding carriage-road to a short distance to the conservatory. This was 350 feet long, 150 feet wide, and nearly 70 feet high; and when fully completed, is to have an additional length of 150 feet. The roof is an arch, and is covered with plate glass of the best kind, and so thick as to resist the heaviest hail. It is heated by iron tubes of hot water, and to these are added others for cold water, and the whole, if stretched out to a single length, we were informed would extend nearly six miles. The plants and trees here are distributed in open borders, each class being placed in the soil most proper for it, and the temperature so regulated as to suit their natural state as nearly as possible. Not far from the centre is an immense rockery rising about 50 feet high, and from the fissures of the thick slabs of stone that compose it, the cactus and other plants grow out as in their natural state. Half way up this huge precipice is a little lake with islets, and in this, water-lilies and other aquatic plants of the rarest and most beautiful kinds. A wild goat path leads to the top of the rockery, and beneath it is a wide, deep cave. The variety of shrubs and plants in this immense conservatory is very great; some of the trees already reach nearly to the top of the roof, and others presented dimensions gigantic in the extreme for those within a green-house. There are wide folding-doors at each end of the conservatory, and any time he pleases, the Duke can have a drive with his coach and four horses through it. Taking it altogether, it is by far the most magnificent thing of the kind we have ever seen. The whole cost of it is not less than half a million of dollars, which is but a little over the present annual income of its wealthy possessor.
After leaving the conservatory, we took a zig-zag road, and ascended through the forest to the crown of the hill by the octagonal tower. A peasant family was residing here, who permitted us to ascend it to the top. The view from this is no less extensive than beautiful, of Chatsworth and the wild broken country around. Descending from this high perch we had quite a chat with the peasant's wife. She informed us that the tower was built by a predecessor of the present Duke, for the purpose of giving the ladies at the palace an opportunity of seeing the fox-hunting which formerly took place at Chatsworth. Upon taking leave, the good woman directed a little rosy-faced daughter to show us the lakes on the hill, the sources of the cascade and fountains below. After something of a stroll through the woods, we found two large expanses of water belted in by thick rows of the larch and fir, and apparently as isolated as if in a wild forest of our own country. The white swan and the black are kept here, and most otherkinds of curious water-fowl. Our pretty guide answered all our inquiries with intelligence, and at parting we gave her a small guerdon, for which she returned a grateful "thank'e zur" and a low courtesy, and then, with the lightness of a young fawn, skipped into the woods, and immediately disappeared. Descending the hill toward the palace we came to the stables. These are very extensive, of quadrangular shape, and large courtyards within. At a distance, with their imposing architecture, they might almost pass for the palace itself.
We now bent our steps to the house of the celebrated Mr. Paxton, the head gardener of the Duke of Devonshire, editor of the Magazine of Botany which bears his name, and one of the first botanists of England. His residence is within the park, about a quarter of a mile from the palace, and is a roomy, beautiful cottage, completely enveloped in flowers and flowering shrubbery, with a handsome little conservatory at the end. Much to our regret, he was not at home; but a sub-gardener, quite an intelligent man, volunteered to show us the gardens. They occupy 12 acres, and are enclosed by a thick, brick wall, about twelve feet high. Here are the experimental and kitchen gardens, and hundreds of fruit-bearing espaliers, trained up the walls. In addition to these there are forcing pits in abundance, and upward of 20 hot-houses, about 300 feet long each, devoted to different purposes, one of the most extensive of which is the growing of pine apples. All these things may be considered very extravagant, but in supporting them, the Duke of Devonshire has done much for the cause of science, and has conferred a lasting benefit on his country.
We left Chatsworth with regret; the day we spent there we would have gladly prolonged to a week, and then we should have gained but an imperfect knowledge of the treasures of nature and art which are stored up here for the admiration of thousands of visiters. Mary Queen of Scots was some time a prisoner here; so also was Marshal Tallard, who was captured at the battle of Blenheim. What were the thoughts of the beautiful Queen upon taking leave of it, history does not record; but the Marshal, no less gracefully than happily, said: "When I return to France and reckon up the days of my captivity in England, I shall leave out all those I have spent at Chatsworth." And so thought we, pausing on the mound-like hill again, as we retraced our steps to Edensor, and cast a last lingering look upon the park, and palace, and forest hills in the background, lit up by the clear, glorious sun just sinking beneath the horizon.