MR. DOWNING'S LETTERS FROM ENGLAND. 



Derbyshire (you remember you left me at 

 Chatsworth,) is so picturesque a county, that 

 I drove about among its hills and valleys with 

 the luxury of good roads and the easiest of 

 private carriages. It is, indeed, only in this 

 way that England can be seen or understood. 

 To dash through such a county as this, where 

 the details are all worked up into such perfect 

 finish, is like going through a gallery of cabi- 

 net pictures at the speed of Capt. Barclay, or 

 some " crack pedestrian," who performs a 

 thousand miles in a thousand hours. Here 

 is indeed a hilly country, where you get a 

 glimpse of something new and interesting at 

 every turn; and yet the roads are by no 

 means those we are accustomed to see in such 

 a district, but smooth and hard as a Macadam 

 can make them. It would, however, amuse 

 one of our expert Alleghany stage-drivers, 

 •who goes down a five mile mountain on a full 

 run, to see an English coachman lock his 

 wheels on such smooth and easy grades as 

 these, among the Derbyshire hills. A pro- 

 posal of such feats to an English driver as are 

 performed daily in the Alleghanies, with the 

 most perfect success and nonchalance, would 

 be received by him with the same belief in 

 your sanit}^ as if you should ask him to 

 oblige you by swallowing the cupola of St. 

 Paul's. On the other hand, the perfect neat- 

 ness of dress (especially in snowy linen, and 

 spotless white-top boots,) the obliging man- 

 ners, and the careful and rapid driving (on 

 those level roads) of a John Bull who is bred 

 to hold the reins, would be a stranger revela- 

 tion to one of our uncouth looking drivers, than 

 an explanation of the whole art of governing 

 a monarchy. 



These Derbyshire hills are, in some parts, 

 covered with wood, and in others entirely 

 bare, or rather only covered with grass, — af- 



fording pasture to large flocks of sheep. As 

 I drove amid long slopes and rounded sum-- 

 mits, some 200 or 300 feet high, I was struck 

 with the exquisite' purple hue, like the bloojn 

 on a plum, with which some of the hill-sides 

 were suffused in the soft afternoon light. A 

 little nearer approach enables one to solve the 

 riddle of the mysterious colour. The whole 

 hill-side was thickly covered with purple 

 heather, in full bloom, which, at a distance, 

 gave it the seeming of having been dipped in 

 some delicate dye. I cannot tell you how 

 these hills, and the wild wastes' and downs of 

 England, covered with the delicate bells of 

 the heath, affected me when I first saw them. 

 When you remember, that with all the forest 

 and meadow richness of America, not a single 

 heath grows wild from one end of the country 

 to the other, and that we scarcely know the 

 plant, except as a delicate and cherished 

 green-house exotic — a plant which every Eng- 

 lish poet has embalmed in his verse, and 

 which is the very emblem of wild, airy fresh- 

 ness — you may believe me, when I tell you 

 that a million, spent in gardens under glass, 

 could not have given me the same exquisite 

 delight, which I experienced in running over, 

 plucking, and feasting my eyes upon these 

 acres of wild heather. There are half a dozen 

 species, with different shades of colour — white, 

 pink, pale and deep purple ; but the latter is 

 the most beautiful, as well as the most common. 

 Haddon Hall. — Next to Chatsworth, 

 Haddon Hall is the most noted locality in 

 Derbyshire. As the two places are but a 

 few miles apart, they form the best possible 

 contrasts, — Chatsworth being one of the most 

 finished specimens of the luxury, refinement, 

 and grandeur of modern England, as Haddon 

 is of the domestic abodes and habits of an 

 English nobleman two hundred years ago. 



