I heard much from all the manufacturers of Derby, of the mechanical ingenuity of Mr. James Fox, of Chester Road, on the banks of the Derwent. I paid him a visit, and beheld his powerful iron lathes, twenty-four feet long, used by machine makers for planing iron. Here I saw iron cut in groves or squared with great simplicity, by duly adjusting the velocity so as to generate no heat, for a velocity, which generates heat, destroys the tool. These lathes, Mr. Fox makes for machinists in all parts of the kingdom, and gets from £200. to £700. for them. The castings are made at Morley Park; and I was sorry to learn that they are now delivered at £7. a ton instead of £30. the usual and legitimate price. In truth, the depression of the iron trade is as great or greater than that of the other staples of the kingdom.
The number of cotton frames employed by the above, is from 3,000 to 4,000 dispersed over the town and country; and the number of silk frames is about 1,000. The average earnings of the cotton hands are from 7s. to 10s. per week, but many frames are worked by young persons both male and female. The silk hands earn about 12s. or 15s.
Petrifaction Manufactory.
A manufactory, at once local and elegant, exists at Derby, which excites the attention and loosens the purse-strings of most strangers. It is the spar-manufactory of Mr. Hall, and in it, he converts the petrified sports of nature, in the Derbyshire hills, into the luxuries of civil life. Those in London, who desire to see the products of these works, may behold them at Mawe's, in the Strand; but all, who visit Derby, will not fail to call upon Mr. Hall, who is as courteous as he is ingenious. Amythistine and other spars, white and variegated marble, alabaster, &c. are here formed in a series of workshops, aided by a steam engine, into vases, columns, obelisks, &c. &c. Tasteful statuaries are also employed, in converting the same materials into dogs, horses, sheep, cows, &c. for chimney ornaments; and Mr. Hall has likewise imitated the best vases, and some of the structures of Egypt, with exact transcripts of their inscriptions. In these works, in polishing, sawing, fashioning, &c. he employs numerous hands; and persons, whom he may indulge, with a view of the details, will be instructed and gratified.
The Arkwrights.
Cromford is an immense establishment; but being inferior in magnitude to Belper, and of the same description, I forbear to enlarge upon it. Here the late Sir Richard Arkwright established the first cotton-spinning mill, and from the poverty of a barber's apprentice, became one of the wealthiest merchants in the united kingdom. The concern is now carried on by his son, and I found that his work-people were in the same state of comfort, as those of the Messrs. Strutt.
The present Mr. Arkwright, son of Sir Richard, is between seventy and eighty, and by the power of unparalleled capital and habits of frugality, he is considered the most wealthy person in Europe. I heard his accumulations estimated at six, eight, and even ten millions; and he spends but 2 or £3,000. per annum. He has eight children, and provides liberally for them, and I heard some anecdotes of his munificence to the deserving, but do not consider myself at liberty to repeat them. His habits lead him to continue in business, though the profits are now trifling. Those of his father and his own, formerly, were 2 or 300 per cent, but competition has now rendered them nearly nominal.
A Village Funeral.
At Ashford, my sympathy was strongly excited by the procession of a village funeral, in which the affections of the people seemed concerned. I found on inquiry, that the corpse was the wife of the schoolmaster, who, in her prime, and in the enjoyment of general esteem, had been cut off in childbirth. The clergyman headed the procession. The coffin was borne by eight females, in white hoods and scarfs, and was followed by the unhappy husband, who conferred great effect, in the display of his grief, by carrying in his arms two young children, the offspring of the deceased. A long train of mourners followed, and I question whether more tears are shed, or more sensibility exhausted, at funerals accompanied with heraldic pomp, than in this simple display of natural affection. I drew up my horse as the procession passed, and the affair threw a gloom over my spirits, in which it seemed as though the village at large partook. The funeral group, with the father and his children, and the sorrowful countenances of the well disposed population, would have made a beautiful subject for a sentimental painter.