[293] Slain in a duel.
[294] Webster was parish-clerk at St. Andrew’s, Holborn. The anxious recurrence to church-matters; sacrilege; tomb-stones; with the frequent introduction of dirges; in this, and his other tragedies, may be traced to his professional sympathies.
NATURAL CURIOSITIES OF DERBYSHIRE.
Further Extracts from the Journal of a Tourist.[295]
For the Table Book.
June 1, 1827.
Visited Chatsworth, the princely residence of the duke of Devonshire, three miles to the north-east of Bakewell. As soon as the summit of the neighbouring hill is attained, the house and park lie immediately in front in a beautiful valley, watered by the Derwent. An addition is making to the main building, which is large, but not very handsome in its architectural design; on approaching it, I passed over an elegant stone bridge, close to which is an island whereon a fictitious fortress is built. The views on all sides are strikingly fine, and of great variety; hills and dales, mountains and woods, water and verdant pasture lands. It requires “a poet’s lip, or a painter’s eye,” to adequately depict the beauties of this enchanting place. Perhaps no estate in the kingdom furnishes choicer objects for the pencil. I do not think, however, that the grounds in the immediate vicinity of the mansion are so well disposed, or the scenery so rich, nor does the interior offer such magnificent works of art, as at Blenheim. There is much sculpture, of various degrees of merit, distributed about the apartments; but the collection is in its infancy, and a splendid gallery is in progress for its reception. The finest production of the chisel is Canova’s statue of Napoleon’s mother; its natural grace and ease, with the fine flowings of the drapery, and the grave placidity of the countenance, are solemnly majestic—she looks the mother of Napoleon. Among the other great attractions here, are a bust of Petrarch’s Laura, another of his present majesty, by Chantrey; and a portrait of his majesty by sir Thomas Lawrence.
The next day I continued my route towards Matlock Bath—as beautiful a ride as I ever took. The road follows the Wye for six miles in a vale, past the aged towers of Haddon Hall, and the scenery presents every interesting feature that can be coveted by the most enthusiastic lover of nature;—rugged and beetling crags, gently sloping hills, extensive woods, rich meadows and fertile vallies, form the composition of the views. Handsome villas, farm-houses, and neat cottages—living pictures of scarcely minor interest—embellish and diversify the natural beauties of the delightful scene.