After viewing the Park satisfactorily, we accompanied our friend. to his residence, where we passed the evening most delightfully. LETTER. FOUR. HUCKNALL, near Newstead Abbey, Eng. Departure from Liverpool-Manchester-Posting to Rousley-Visit to Haddon Hall and Chatsworth-Visit to Sherwood Forest-Newstead Abbey, etc. HAVING remained in Liverpool sufficiently long to see every thing that a stranger finds to engage his attention, and to recruit after a long voyage, we took the rail to Manchester, passing through a tunnel one mile and a half in length, and over a champaign country beautifully hedged, and under a fine state of cultivation. Being in what is called the express train, which carried us at the rate of sixty miles per hour, you can readily imagine our chance of forming any correct idea of the qualities of the land, products, etc. Long before we reached the City of Mills, our attention was attracted by the thousand and one chimneys reaching almost to the clouds, and enveloping the whole country round about with coalsmoke, giving the city an old and dingy appearance, and rendering it next to an impossibility for the ladies to keep their faces clean. Here we met several Americans from the Eastern States, who like ourselves were anxious to go through and examine the principal mills, and compare them with our own. Upon inquiry we were told that we would find no difficulty in gaining admission; but our experience, I am sorry to say, was quite the contrary, for we were refused admission at two or three places-which was quite enough for our patience. They stated that they had been so much visited during the month, and that there were so many mechanics and manufacturers in the country, that they preferred keeping closed doors. There are certainly a great number of mills here, and their manufactured articles are justly prized by the kingdom; but really, without boasting, I think that our mills can fully compete with them in all respects, and in a few years, I hope to see in operation manufactures on a much grander scale in our own Tennessee. From Manchester, we proceeded by post to a little village called Rousley, in the county of Derby, through an exceedingly broken and somewhat romantic country. From the Peaks of Derby, we had a fine view of nearly the whole county and portions of those adjacent. To an American accustomed to the White, Alleghany, and Cumberland mountain scenery, it would not be much thought of; but here in England they call it a lovely panorama. I was exceedingly amused at an old gentleman who asked me if I did not consider that a very wild region, which is more thickly populated than any portion of Tennessee. You can imagine how one accustomed to the dark swamps and thick cane-brakes of Arkansas must have given vent to his risibles. Travelling by post-coaches still remains in use where the locomotive has not been introduced, and it reminds me very much of our stage travelling-with the exception of the style, which we utilitarians would abandon as useless trumpery. The driver is quite as consequential, and the freedom of speech is equally as unrestrained. as you find with us, which is much more agreeable than being confined in a close car where you can neither see nor hear any thing with satisfaction. Arrived at the little village of Rousley, we put up at an inn called the Peacock, which is about two hundred years old, and has great reputation as a place where fishermen and sportsmen congregate to carry on their amusements, and indulge in their favorite sports. Near this village is the old castle of Haddon Hall, now owned by the Duke of Rutland. It is unoccupied, but is kept in good order by the Duke as a monument of antiquity. Soon after the conquest this property was owned by the Avenells, from whom it came to the Vernons. The last male heir of this family, Sir John Vernon, was commonly called the King of the Peake, on account of his hospitality and magnificent mode of living. He died during the seventh year of Elizabeth, and Haddon passed by marriage with one of his daughters into the possession of the family of the Manners, and was their principal seat till the beginning of the last century. In the time of the first Duke of Rutland, in the reign of Queen Anne, seven score servants were maintained in this ancient seat of English hospitality. The situation of Haddon is very beautiful. It stands on a shelving and rather elevated mass of the first limestone, overlooking י the entire dale and its meandering Wye, backed by an extensive wood and surrounded by beautiful trees. At first sight it has more the appearance of an old fortress, than what it really is, a hall, chiefly in the Elizabethan style, and without any effectual defences. The building in its present form is not in the least calculated for defence or protection against a besieging force, according to the military tactics of any period, though there can be but little doubt that this mansion, which was the work of different ages, occupies the site of a Norman castle, portions of the lower part of which may be traced in the walls of the towers which overlook both the upper and lower portals. It is said to be decidedly one of the finest specimens of a hall of the olden time in existence. The old tower with narrow loop-holes, and gloomy, uncomfortable rooms, is the only part which retains that stern character, the peculiar feature of the iron age when "every man's hand was against his fellow;" that age of darkness and military despotism which succeeded the destruction of the Roman power by the savages of the North. The old part of Haddon is said to have been built before the conquest; and as a quiet country seat of the English gentry in the eighteenth century, kept still in good repair, with all its ancient honors about it, just as deserted by the family one hundred and seventy years ago, and really retaining all that character, as if they had quitted it yesterday, is a beautiful specimen of that age. There can hardly be conceived a more striking contrast to the sombre grandeur of Haddon Hall, than is exhibited by the splendid. magnificence of the neighboring pile of Chatsworth, the country seat of the Duke of Devonshire. The former of these buildings, as remarked by an English writer, is "one of the most perfect and most curious of the class of castellated houses now remaining, but when viewed as a whole, is almost devoid of all real elegance, or comfortable convenience, and fitted only to entertain a horde of licentious retainers." In the latter edifice we perceive a unity of design and adaptation of parts, not only beautiful when separately considered, but also deriving new beauties from their connection with the other portions of the structure to which they belong. The various divisions of the edifice harmonize with each other, and combine with the adjacent scenery to constitute a picture of surpassing elegancè and splendor. We were ushered through the entire building, out grounds and conservatories, and I feel safe in saying that it is the most beautiful, comfortable, and elegant structure in all England, not excepting even Windsor Castle. To describe the park with its three thousand deer, the gardens with their extensive conservatories, water-falls, fountains and statuary, the castle with its extensive libraries, ancient paintings and statuary, would require more space than I can allow in this letter. But notwithstanding the great magnificence of Chatsworth, I must say that the antiquity and associations connected with Haddon Hall made it more interesting to me. It remains as a model of domestic arrangements of the noble families of former times, and as a picturesque object suited to the bold and romantic landscape of which it forms a prominent part; and it is also deserving great attention from artists and amateurs as affording examples of elaborate and beautiful workmanship in the carved panelling of its wainscotted apartments, and in the elegant tracery of some of the ceiling. The next places of interest were Sherwood Forest and Newstead Abbey, both of which possess attractions and associations dear to every Englishman-the former as the place where "bold Robin Hood and his merrie men" used to practise their daring exploits, and the latter as the home of the gifted Byron. As we passed through this legendary neighborhood, surrounded by the haunts of Robin Hood and his band of outlaws, so famous in ancient ballad and nursery tale, it recalled vividly the romantic faith and impressions of our boyhood, and caused a thrill of delight to animate a heart which is not always glad. My remembrances of "merrie Sherwood" are of the pleasantest kind; for often during my earlier life have I dwelt with wonderment over the pages of some little book giving a description of the great deeds once done in this classic region. This locality, which was once a mighty forest, now teems with mouldering ruins and noble remnants of the grandeur of bygone ages. Among the many interesting spots that give character to the neighborhood, Newstead Abbey is the most prominent, and particularly interesting to Americans, as they are generally great admirers of the poet. As we drew near to the Abbey, a most glorious scene burst upon the view. On the right hand lay a splendid sheet of water, fringed with young woods that bow their whispering homage o'er the margin, reflecting all the depth and brightness of the tranquil heavens; aquatic wild birds studded the silvery surface, as though they had a "vested interest" in the place, and possessed a "protective order" against all molestation. A romantic water-fall, and the ruins of a rustic mill, together with the gentle murmuring of the foaming falls, added to the richly wooded country around, served to complete a picture upon which memory, so long as "she holds her zeal," will love to dwell. Turning to the left, the venerable Abbey rises in solemn grandeur, the long and lovely ivy clinging fondly to the rich tracery of a former age. As we first gazed upon these old walls, and remembered that it was here, even among the comparative ruins of a building once dedicated to the sacred cause of religion by the monks of old, that the great genius of Byron was first developed-here that he paced with youthful melancholy the halls of his illustrious ancestors, and trod the lonely walks of the banished monks-we involuntarily commenced repeating those beautiful lines from his own pen, in which he speaks of the decay of his much loved home: "Newstead! fast falling, once resplendent dome; Scowling defiance on the blasts of Fate.” Newstead was founded by Henry the Second, in the year 1170, as a priory of Black Canons, an order having for their tutelary patron St. Augustine, and practising great austerity of life. It was dedicated to the Virgin Mary, and there is still to be seen in one of the niches of the chapel, in a state of preservation, a sculptured Virgin and child. It continued a priory until the time of Henry VIII., who, in his zeal for the temporal welfare of himself, and to the consternation of the then religious world, set about the wholesale destruction of all the monastic institutions of the country. It was afterwards granted by the same royal favor to Sir John Byron, who converted it into a residence of more than ordinary splendor. During the troubles which marked the history of the great rebellion, which ended in the martyrdom of the unfortunate King Charles the |