Women, it has been remarked, need no eulogy, since they speak for themselves. Something similar, descriptively, might be said of Alderley Edge. Whatever smoke–engendered thoughts may occupy the mind for twenty minutes after contemplating Stockport, they are effectually dispelled by the sight of the piny hill, a medley of nature and art, that shows so proudly in front as soon as the train crosses the Bollin. A grand undulating mass of sandstone, rising boldly out of the plain, of considerable elevation,—the highest point being six hundred and fifty feet above the sea,—and, reckoning to the out–of–sight portion which overlooks Bollington, quite two miles in length, must needs be impressive. Alderley gathers charm also from its great smooth slants of green, rough and projecting rocks, and trees innumerable, three or four aged and wind–beaten firs upon the tip–top, giving admirable accentuation. Every portion in view from the railway is accessible by paths, usually easy, these introducing us to many a deep and sequestered glade that in autumn is crowded with ferns, or leading to the crest of the hill, the views from which compensate all possible fatigue of climbing. The simplest route to follow is that by the old road running to Macclesfield. From the lower part of this we may take one of the bye–roads that lie to the left, and thus get eventually to the somewhat rough and scrambling, but still quite practicable and pleasant, track which leads along the face of the great westward incline. This huge slope, called the “Hough,” may be ascended also from beneath, keeping along the foot for about a mile, then turning up through a field. Green shades and leafy labyrinths here tempt to a never–slackening onward movement, especially in that part where a great curve in the mountain–mass gives rise to a kind of bay, grassy always, and that in spring teems with anemones. The prospect from the Hough is everywhere magnificent, extending to Delamere Forest and the Overton hills, which, like Coniston “alt maen,” have a profile never doubtful. The intermediate broad, flat space is the now familiar North Cheshire plain. Should a canopy of smoke be distinguishable, it will indicate Manchester. To enjoy this wonderful prospect perfectly, it is best to adventure to the edge of “Stormy Point,” or the Holywell Rock—that noted crag which, in case of need, would serve well for a new Tarpeian. Another quite different way to the top of the Edge is to proceed a short distance along the Congleton road, or that which leads, in the first instance, towards old Alderley village; then to turn up a lane upon the left, which, passing through a grove of fir–trees, terminates in the Macclesfield road, near the “Wizard.” It is behind this noted hostelry, commemorative in its name of the local legend, that the sylvan loveliness of Alderley Edge is felt most exquisitely, nature seeming here to have been left more to her own sweet wantonness; while the views, extending now over a totally different country, hills instead of a plain, add to our previous enjoyments the always welcome one of surprise. Curling round this glorious promontory, we gradually progress towards the “Beacon,” the highest point, and in a few minutes, descending thence, are once again in the public thoroughfare.
Alderley Park, the seat of Lord Stanley, lies near the village, upon the left of the turnpike road. Strangers very rarely enter the gates. The wonder to those who do is that so little should have been made of natural advantages scarcely excelled anywhere in Cheshire. The best features are the magnificent beech–trees and the sheet of ornamental water, called Radnor Mere, upon the margins of which grow two of the most interesting of the British sedges, the Carex ampullacea and the Carex vesicaria. The gardens have long been noted for their mulberry trees.
Beyond this again is Birtles, the neighbourhood of which supplies a very pleasant walk. Mounting the hill on the southern side, or where the latter gently melts away into the level, the road in question leads eventually to the “Wizard,” at which point, if more convenient, the walk may be commenced. If begun at the base, we turn up by the four–armed guide–post, a little beyond Alderley church. The walk is somewhat long, therefore better deferred till winter, selecting a day when the frost is keen and the atmosphere bracing. A winter forenoon, when the atmosphere is motionless, and icicles hang from the little arches that bridge the water–courses, is every bit as enjoyable as the most brilliant of summer evenings, let only the heart be alive and the eyes trained to seeing. Over and above the rich healthfulness of this Birtles walk, all the way up to the crown of the Edge, and round about amid the trees in winter, for the artist of pre–Raphael vision, there is bijouterie;—the chaste and tender arabesque given to rock and aged bough by green moss and grey and golden lichen, gems of nature that when the trees are leafy are apt to be skipped, but when all else is cold and bare, like faithful affection, “make glad the solitary place.”
Between Alderley and Chelford, pushing still further along the Congleton road, we find yet another of the Cheshire meres, this one, in itself in the time of water–lilies, worth all the travel. Reeds Mere, famous in local fairy tale, is to the painter and the poet, when the lilies are out, a floral Venice. Virtually, it is in Capesthorne Park, the seat of one of the younger branches of the very ancient Davenport family. To get to the water’s edge, if time be short, the nearest point to start from is Chelford, but the road above indicated is so charmingly wooded, that not to go that way is distinctly a loss. Chelford village may be reached by a field walk, commenced first below Alderley church, crossing the meadow slantwise and leftwards, and so past Heywood Hall, going presently through a plantation of Scotch firs. Hard by there is another charming seat, with spacious park, rare trees, and ornamental water—Astle Hall, the residence of Captain Dixon. In the grounds we are reminded of Norcliffe, for here, too, is shown the love of Conifers which always indicates good taste.
