Forest of Rossendale. 29 



work than a hundred rivers of greater pretensions — and which, ere 

 it has discharged its vexed and darkened waters into the Mersey, 

 has accomplished labours only paralleled by those recorded in 

 fable of the mighty Hercules of old ! Fitting emblem of true 

 greatness, it springs from its parent bed on the bleak hillside ; no 

 enchanting scenery distinguishes the place of its rise ; it is the sole 

 fruitful offspring of a sterile and uninviting tract of country. 

 Neither throughout its whole course does it meander through 

 delicious wildernesses of rural beauty, fringed by overhanging 

 foliage, or embroidered with wide-reaching acres of velvet-lawn. 

 Far other scenes the bounteous river affects : the abodes of men, 

 the forests of piled stones where Labour lives and thrives, and 

 where the incense of Vulcan's fires continually ascends ; where the 

 busy hammer is heard to reverberate ; where the endless whir of 

 the spindle and the unceasing tumult of the loom, with all their 

 generous produce, bring gladness to the pale mechanic's hearth, 

 and light up with cheerful glow the humble fireside of the thrifty 

 operative. Having more of the useful than the ornamental in its 

 composition, the Irwell is a noble work-a-day river, with smutty 

 face, winning the children's bread. 



Michael Drayton, in his Poly-Olbion pubHshed in 1622, reciting 

 a contest that took place between the Irwell and the Ribble as 

 to " which of those floods deserved to have their sovereign due " of 

 " the neat Lancastrian Nymphs for beauty that excel," makes the 



" lovely Erwell " say : — 



"Note, 

 " As from my fountain I tow'rds mightier Mersey float, 

 " First Roach, a dainty rill, from Rochdale, her dear dam, 

 " Who, honoured with the half of her stern mother's name, 

 " Grows proud ; yet, glad herself into my banks to get, 

 " Which Spodden from her spring, a pretty rivulet, 

 " As her attendants brings, when Irck adds to my store, 

 "And Medlock to their much by lending somewhat more, 

 " At Manchester do meet, all kneeling to my state, 

 " Where brave I show myself. Then with a prouder gait, 

 "Tow'rds Mersey making on. Great Chatmosse at my fall, 

 "Piles full of turf, and marie, her unctuous mineral. 



