At last, when these unfeeling people saw that I was determined, at all events, to stay there all night, they gave me a bed, but not till I had long given up all hopes of getting one. And in the morning, when they asked me a shilling for it, I gave them half-a-crown, adding, with something of an air, that I would have no change. This I did, though perhaps foolishly, to show them that I was not quite “a poor creature.” And now they took leave of me with great civility and many excuses; and I now continued my journey much at my ease.
When I had passed Matlock I did not go again towards Derby, but took the road to the left towards Nottingham. Here the hills gradually disappeared; and my journey now lay through meadow grounds and cultivated fields.
I must here inform you that the word Peake, or Pike, in old English signifies a point or summit. The Peak of Derbyshire, therefore, means that part of the country which is hilly, or where the mountains are highest.
Towards noon I again came to an eminence, where I found but one single solitary inn, which had a singular inscription on its sign. It was in rhyme, and I remember only that it ended with these words, “Refresh, and then go on.” “Entertainment for man and horse.” This I have seen on several signs, but the most common, at all the lesser ale-houses, is, “A. B. C. or D. dealer in foreign spirituous liquors.”
I dined here on cold meat and salad. This, or else eggs and salad, was my usual supper, and my dinner too, at the inns at which I stopped. It was but seldom that I had the good fortune to get anything hot. The salad, for which they brought me all the ingredients, I was always obliged to dress myself. This, I believe, is always done in England.
The road was now tolerably pleasant, but the country seemed here to be uniform and unvaried, even to dulness. However, it was a very fine evening, and as I passed through a village just before sunset several people who met me accosted me with a phrase which, at first, I thought odd, but which I now think civil, if not polite. As if I could possibly want information on such a point as they passed me, they all very courteously told me, “’Twas a fine evening,” or “A pleasant night.”
I have also often met people who as they passed me obligingly and kindly asked: “How do you do?” To which unexpected question from total strangers I have now learned to answer, “Pretty well, I thank you; how do you do?” This manner of address must needs appear very singular to a foreigner, who is all at once asked by a person whom he has never seen before how he does.
After I had passed through this village I came to a green field, at the side of which I met with an ale-house. The mistress was sitting at the window. I asked her if I could stay the night there. She said “No!” and shut the window in my face.
This unmannerliness recalled to my recollection the many receptions of this kind to which I have now so often been exposed, and I could not forbear uttering aloud my indignation at the inhospitality of the English. This harsh sentiment I soon corrected, however, as I walked on, by recollecting, and placing in the opposite scale, the unbounded and unequalled generosity of this nation, and also the many acts of real and substantial kindness which I had myself experienced in it.
I at last came to another inn, where there was written on the sign: “The Navigation Inn,” because it is the depot, or storehouse, of the colliers of the Trent.