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Matlock & Matlock Bath: Inspiration of Poets
A good deal of poetry has been created because of Matlock Bath and its natural environment
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"I have never seen anywhere else such exquisite scenery as surrounds this village of Matlock."
Nathaniel Hawthorne[5]


Poetry included on this page was written by ...

Poetry to be found elsewhere within the web site (return here by clicking the "Back" arrow on the toolbar)

John Allen (1794-1867)


The poem below, describing the valley of Matlock Bath, is from a book of verse that he wrote in 1848[1]:

"Mountains lower

Abrupt ; and rocks - rent, rugged, frowning - throw
Their morning shadows o'er the stream below,
Stern giants ! from the sloping glade ascending,
They guard the dale - strength, age, and beauty blending,
In winding course the river frets their base,
Adventurous trees their giddy summits grace ;
Up their grey forms - pale Ruin's wreath and Time's
Old crown of wine and worth - the ivy climbs,
And richest foliage, like a living soul, Clings to their sides and feeds on breasts of stone."

 


The Study, Bonsall
, where John Allen ran his school before moving to Matlock Bath.

Read more of John Allen's poetry, published in Hall's Days in Derbyshire, Chapter 4

His MI at Holy Trinity


Eliza, 1811


LINES ON MATLOCK.[2]

What lively scenes arrest th' enquiring Eye,
Deep in the Vale where Matlock's Beauties lie,
Where'er my gaze I turn, where'er I stray,
A now born Landscape rushes on the day;
The flowering Meadows, here in their sweets disclose,
And thro' the Vale the winding Derwent flows ;
The craggy precipice o'erhung with Wood,
That views its trembling Image in the flood ;
The naked hill that lifts its head on high,
And proudly towering midway meets the sky.
Here Springs medicinal pursue their course,
Which rob the wan consumption of his force ;
Here rosy Health displays her healing pow'r,
Breathes in the Gale, and freshens in the Show'r ;
Here Nature scorns t' exhaust her bounteous store,
Nor Taste, Art, Science, Beauty, cou'd do more.

August 12th, 1811.         ELIZA

Elizabeth Barrett Browning (1806-61)

The poem below was written when Elizabeth Barrett was visiting Matlock Bath in 1814; she was only 8 years old. It is from "Hitherto Unpublished Poems and an Inedited Autobiography", ed. H. Buxton Forman (Boston: The Bibliophile Society 1914), vol. 1, pp. 46-47. The poem has been very kindly sent to me by Sandy Donaldson and is published here with her very kind permission.

27. On Visiting Matlock - Derbyshire

The carriage stops - the neat and smiling Inn,

The works of Man we leave - Gods works to win.

Now then up shaggy hills we climb

To get to Natures cavern, grand and fine,

This scene is Natures work, these trees are hers,
5

These oaks, these elms, these yews, these firs. -

Now to her Palace, swiftly draw we near,

Which ever must inspire great awe and fear;

Where shaggy rocks are opening to our view,

Her jewels sparkle o'er, with wat'ry dew, 10

Now burning tapers in each hand is [sic] put,

To light the way, to guide the weary foot,

Down the abyss o'er rugged path we stray,

And steps descending reach the wat'ry way,

Here heedless Ba, with magic wonder struck, 15

With eyes upraised, she gave her foot a duck.

The cavern dark, Papas laugh resounded,

Mama's, Bro's, Addles,' all loud rebounded;

Vast chambers now expanding to our sight,

Glittering in various gems, of spar so bright, 20

The massive rocks upon an angle rest,

Nature bears all these wonders in her breast,

Now then advancing to the morning sun,

We quit this shadowy cave with vapours hung,

And joy to see the beauteous glowing day, 25

The rocks, woods, waters, all in bright array,

Then running, tumbling down the hill,

New wonders rise, our thoughts to fill,

Papa so ever kind, our joys to swell,

Led us to see the petrifying well,
30

Where heads, wigs, baskets, eggs, lie on the ground

Soon turned to stone, in dropping waters drowned.

Farewell, farewell, ye scenes of joy so sweet,

All other joys lie humbly at thy feet.




Date: 11 June 1814, Carlton, given with title.

Source: Berg Poems, ff. 17-17v.

Publication: HUP 1:46-47.

 


Museum Parade, Old Bath Terrace & the Heights, 1840

This was how the village looked 26 years after Elizabeth Barrett and her family visited Matlock Bath.


Matlock Bath: Great Rutland Cavern, Old Oak Tree and Roman Staircase
, believed to have been the cavern visited by the Barrett family and Ba the dog.


The Great Petrifying Well

Eight year old Elizabeth was entranced by her visit to the petrifying well, though it may not have been this one. She may have visited Mr. Pearson's "Royal Well", the well Princess Victoria visited in 1832 which was "on the roadside, just under the way leading to the Old Bath"[3].

Magic Lantern Slides and Vista Screen views has some interior shots of the Great Rutland Cavern which it is believed that Elizabeth Barrett Browning visited

John Betjeman (1906-84)


Matlock Bath[4]

From Matlock Bath's half-timbered station
I see the black dissenting spire-,
Thin witness of a congregation,
Stone emblem of a Handel choir;
In blest Bethesda's limpid pool,
Comes treacling out of Sunday School.

By cool Siloam's shady rill--
The sounds are sweet as strawberry jam:
I raise mine eyes unto the hill,
The beetling Heights of Abraham;
The branchy trees are white with rime
In Matlock Bath this winter-time.

And from the whiteness, grey uprearing,
Huge cliffs hang sunless ere they fall,
A tossed and stoney ocean nearing
The moment to o'erwhelm us all:
Eternal Father, strong to save,
How long wilt thou suspend the wave?

How long before the pleasant acres,
Of intersecting Lovers' Walks
Are rolled across by limestone breakers,
Whole woodlands snapp'd like cabbage stalks?
O God, our help in ages past,
How long will Speedwell Cavern last?

In this dark dale I hear the thunder
Of houses folding with the shocks,
The Grand Pavilion buckling under
The weight of the Romantic Rocks,
The hardest Blue John ash-trays seem
To melt away in thermal steam.

Deep in their Nonconformist setting
The shivering children wait their doom--
The father's whip, the mother's petting
In many a coffee-coloured room;
And attic bedrooms shriek with fright,
For dread of Pilgrims of the Night.

Perhaps it's this that makes me shiver
As I ascend the slippery path
High, high above the sliding river
And terraces of Matlock Bath;
A sense of doom, a drear to see
The Rock of Ages cleft for me.

 


Matlock Bath Station and High Tor
, described by Betjeman as "half-timbered".


Matlock Bath: Lovers' Walks.
The first of several pages about the Walks.


Matlock Bath: The Dungeon Tors or Romantic Rocks.



Matlock Bath: Upper Wood
The Speedwell Cavern, mentioned by Betjeman, was in Upper Wood.


A verse from this poem is elsewhere on this site:
Stone Quarrying. The page also discusses what perhaps prompted Betjeman's verses.

There are several images of the Wesleyan church/chapel on North Parade that Betjeman mentions:
There is a description on the Churches page - and you can see the spire

Erasmus Darwin (1731-1802)


1.
" Where as proud Masson rises rude and bleak,
And with misshapen turrets crests the Peak,
Old Matlock gapes with marble jaws, beneath,
And o'er scared Derwent bends his flinty teeth;
Deep in wide caves below the dangerous soil
Blue sulphurs flame, imprisoned waters boil;
Impetuous streams in spiral columns rise
Through rifled rocks, impatient for the skies."

Loves of the Plants (Canto IV. v. 175 seq.)[5]
More lines from this poem can be found on the title page of Henry Moore's 1818 guide.
And read his Botanic Garden on pp.25-26 of the same guide book (bottom of the page).

2.
"So Arkwright taught from Cotton-pods to cull
And stretch in lines the vegetable wool ;
With teeth of steel its fibre-knots unfurl'd,
And with the silver tissue clothed the world.[1] "

The Temple of Nature; or, the Origin of Society (Canto IV. Of Good and Evil, lines 261-4).

3. [About Masson Mill]
"So now where Derwent guides his dusky flood
Through Vaulted Mountains and a night of wood
The nymph, Gossypia,§ treads the velvet sod
And warms with rosy smiles the wat'ry god
His pondrous oars to slender spindles turns,
And pours o'er mossy wheels his foaming urns
With playful charms her hoary lover wins
And wheels his trident - while the monarch spins.
First with nice eye emerging Naiads cull
From leathery pods† the vegetable wool ;
With wiry teeth the revolving cards release
The tangled knots and smooth the ravell'd fleece ;
Next moves the iron hand with fingers fine,
Combs the wide card, and FORMS THE ETERNAL LINE;
Slow with soft lips, the whirling can* acquires
The tender skeins, and wraps in rising spires ;
With quickening pace successive rollers move,
And these retain, and those extend the rove,
Then fly the spoles the rapid axles glow
While slowly circumvalves the labouring wheel below".

§ From the name of the cotton plants, Gossypium.
† Quantities of the pods or pericarps of the raw Cotton, very like leather, of a brown colour and shrivelled, occur in the bales.
* "Can"- Tin Cylinders which receive the Cotton from the card and rollers, and which by their circular motionngives it a slight twist as the Cotton falls and cils into them[6].


 

Arkwright
Arkwright & his Cotton Mill

Kelly's 1891 transcript of Breadsall mentions Darwin's family monument inside the church there

Dr. Darwin is also mentioned in the Gentleman's Magazine Library: Derbyshire: Miscellaneous Remarks

One of his sons, Sir Francis Sacheverel Darwin, lived at Sydnope Hall for some years (Pigot's Directory, 1828-9).
A grandson was Charles Darwin, the naturalist and explorer (The Voyage of the Beagle).


Beebe Eyre


"Stupendous Matlock," beautiful as grand !
In them I trace a wise benignant hand ;
Thy giant tor, proud heights and Masson show
The wonders of Omnipotence below.
Rocks thrown on rocks, by Nature's fingers hurl'd
Add to the scenic grandeur of the world.
The pleasant walks, sweet flowers, and shady trees,
Thy healing waters and thy balmy breeze,-
Thy wells petrific, and thy beauteous spars
Which sparkle in thy caves like brilliant stars,
And nubic Derwent lending charms to thee,
While flowing on in graceful majesty, -
Form subjects worthy of the swiftest muse,
Of finest feelings and sublimest views,
On had I skill, delightfully I'd twine
A wreath of beauty worthy scenes like thine[7] .

John Gisborne (1770-17 June 1851)


" Nor from thy haunts
O Matlock, shall this heart be long withdrawn,
Nor e'er repine to meditate afresh
On scenes which ever please! Unlike the world
Whose friendship snares the bosom, yet with whom
Repeated converse serves but to expose
Delusive joys, thou dost endear thyself
Most closely when familiar; and to hold
Communion with thy river, rocks, and shade
In each revolving season, soothes the mind
And lulls the passions to Divine repose."[5]

Gisborne also wrote about the Derwent:

" Down the vale
Comes Derwent, sovereign river of the Peak.
But when he passes Megdale's tufted rocks
Feeling the pressure of the narrowed vale,
He foams, he frets, he wheels: and rushing thence
Through arches half engulfed, where yonder bridge
Presumes to check his congregated pace,
Sweeps onward, careless of the opening scene
Of beauty and magnificence combined.
Yet, as if conscious of his mighty powers,
As if to swell the triumph of his route,
Just where the traveller stops oft to view
The wondrous scene, to all the caverned hills
He speaks in thunder; calls on Matlock's Tor
To wake the mountain echoes from repose
And bids his billows with redoubled roar
Toss high their tawny crests."[5]

 

Engraving of Matlock Bridge from an original by Turner, 1795



Matlock High Torr &C, 1751 and 1776



Matlock Bath: High Tor

One of a series of images of the Tor.
Gisborne was one of a number of poets who mentioned the Tor


Views of High Tor, by Local Photographers

This one is by Latham, taken before 1840.

William Gregory (1866-1922)


VIA GELLIA

Via Gellia! Via Gellia!
Thou much beloved spot;
Home of the Scented Lily,
And the blue Forgetmenot.

A though of thee will bear me back
To youths' glad days, and there
In fancy's dream, I wander free
From anxious fear and care.

I've seen thee dressed in Springs' young life,
And plucked thy early flowers,
The Lady-Smock and Violet,
Which come with April Showers.

In Summertime thou'rt all alive
With busy ants and bees,
With rabbits Sporting on the ground,
And Squirrels in the trees.

The Wren, the thrush, the linnet,
Blackbird and Cushat dove,
Unite to make the happy vale
A home of Song and love.

I've Seen thee when the Autumn casts
Her jewels to the ground,
The blackberries and nuts are in
Such rich profusion found.

When Winter wraps thee in his cloak
Thy beauty is not less,
Each tree a plume, each rock a Crown
Of glittering loveliness.

In fact there is no time of year
When memory may not see
Thy beauty, and in peace reflect
Oh what it knows of thee.

Sometimes in dreams I seem to see
Thy woods, and streams and flowers
Thy cottages which, here and there
Make honey suckle bowers.

Oh! Had I Wordsworth's gifted pen,
Or even that of Shelley! A
Greater need praise Should be
Given to thee - Dear Via Gellia[8].

 
A selection of images of Via Gellia


Rider Point, Via Gellia



In Via Gellia, near Matlock Bath, 1906



In Via Gellia, Matlock Bath, 1903



Tufa Cottage, the most well known of the Via Gellia cottages

"Oracle"


An interesting event, politically anticipated.

MATLOCK! thy worthy praise has oft been sung
By many a bard, in many a land and tongue ;
And still thy beauties are the lofty theme,
Thy inspiration and the poets dream,
To paint thy charms the ardent youth aspires,
And of in age this stirs the "wonted fires."
In these fair scenes I drew at my first breath,
And here I hope at last to sleep in death.

My humble muse unworthy is to tread,
Where memory and imagination oft is led ;
Matlock's past history through long years I know,
Since it was written by the great "De Foe,"
And I could chronicle in humble rhymes,
Its rise and progress from the earliest times ;
My task is now to write of present time,
And chronicle the future in my rhyme.

At Matlock Bath on fourteenth of July,
An era new will ope auspiciously,
A work of magnitude will be begun,
The opening ceremony will then be done.
The public garden and pavilion scheme,
Will be reality and not a dream ;
And loud "hurrahs", from a great host will sound,
As a good lady first will "break the ground."

And many friends of Matlock will be there,
Drawn by the occasion and the lady fair,
And one with sliver spade will "turn the sod,"
And all unite in gratitude to God.
That better days are opening to the view,
And zeal and enterprise make all things new
That clouds as after rain will pass away,
And Matlock see the better, brighter day.

And when glad music sounds from the hill-side,
The people of the place will feel much pride,
That Mrs. Peters, in her zeal commends
This enterprise to all her numerous friends ;
And what can not a noble woman do
If she to all is good and kind and true,
Success is certain in a little while
If ladies condescend to help and smile.

And at the banquet guests will then accord
All honour to the chairman of the board ;
To "host" of "Guilderoy" they all will trace
The energy and "zeal" brought to this place -
The place where England's Queen, in girlhood came,
And now become a place of note and fame ;
The good, the help, the hope that now we see,
The "house" of "Guilderoy" we owe to thee[9].

 
The Royal Pavilion features on many images within this site including:


The Pavilion on the Hillside, mid 1880s



Matlock Bath from the Royal Pavilion (Palais Royal), 1890


  
The Royal Pavilion - the Palais Royal



Old Pavilion & Royal Hotel, Matlock Bath, 1903


______________________________

And Guilderoy can be see on numerous images, beginning with an engraving showing the property shortly after it had been built:



Museum Parade, Old Bath Terrace & the Heights, 1840

(it is the large house to the right of the Temple Hotel)



Guilderoy, where Mr. and Mrs. Peters lived, shown on a stereoview by John Latham (before 1870).


There is a short biography of Mr. Peters, a gentleman who did so much for Matlock Bath

William Sampson


Sampson was an early seventeenth century poet. Here he was writing about the River Derwent:

" Amid thy valleys Darwent swiftly runnes
Who, like a tender mother, to her sonnes
Yields foords and springs and waters, sweet and cleare
As the blest sunne in his meridian spheare.
There may you see the salmon, tench and trout,
Like Neptune's Tritons, nimbly frisk about.
Sometimes along the flower-enamelled vales
She does inundate, and tells wanton tales
Unto the meadows, for she takes a pride
Her crystal limbes on pearly sands to glide,
As if she were enamoured on the hill,
Whose steepe descent her water-courses fill,
As loth she were to leave the continent
And thrust her head into her sister Trent."[5]


Anna Seward, "the Swan of Lichfield" (1742-1809)

Anna Seward wrote about her" favourite river" in 1775.

" There under pendant rocks, his amber flood,
As Hebrus swift, impetuous Derwent pours;
And now, beneath the broad, incumbent wood,
Silent and smooth and deep, he laves the shores;
Till gaily rushing from his darksome way,
His foamy waters glitter on the day,
Resistless, dashing o'er each rocky mound;
And still on his umbrageous bank he shows
Woodbines and harebells and the musky rose;
The heavy velvet wild bees murmuring sound;
His every grace that decks Pieria's clime,
Green vale and steepy hill and broken rock sublime."[5]

 

The Riverbank, later to be the Derwent Gardens

Although many years had passed since Anna wrote the poem, this view seems to represent her trees, river and rocks

William Smedley (1808-1896)


William Smedley owned the Cumberland Cavern in the Nineteenth Century[10].


smedley poem

Unattributed poems


1.
Hail, favour'd Matlock ! where the sight
Is courted to enjoy delight :
T'ascend the hill, and tread the plain,
Where lavish Nature's proud to reign. [p.9]

Here hills and vales, the woodland and the plain,
Here earth and water seem to strive again ;
Not chaos-like, together crushed and bruised,
But, like the world, harmoniosly confused[11].

Unknown poet.

2.
With thy Caverns of Crystal by fancy gemm'd o'er,
From Nature's own treasure sparkling bright ;
As though some new religion untrodden before,
Had just woke out of chaos and burst on the sight.

Old Bath Arrival Book, 2 Aug 1818[11].

3.
Fair Matlock, adieu ! with thy rocks and thy bowers,
This warm pulse must fail e'er those scenes I forget,
Or cease to remember with rapture those hours,
Which I've spent in thy bosom and leave with regret.

And far I roam, should e'er beauty invite,
Cause your pilgrim one moment to pause on his way,
Ah ! then will I think of thoses scenes with delight,
Till Memory's self with the rapture decay.

Old Bath Arrival Book (about 1838)[11].

 
Henricus mentions the following in the verses quoted on the left:

The caverns that were open in 1838 included
  
Matlock Bath: Royal Cumberland Cavern



Matlock Bath, 1806
. Joseph Cumming became the hotel's proprietor the following year.


Matlock Bath: Cumming's Old Bath Hotel

4.
Matchless thy hills, and beauty teems
As now the sun's departing gleams
Transfere thy Tor's majestic height,
Lo ! bathes it all in golden light,
O'er lovely fern and lichen rare,
Caressing each with tender care.
Kissing farewell ere night is there.
Below, the Derwent's silver stream
Allures our steps, till moon's pale beam
The latticed foliage through reveals,
Holy the light that o'er us steals.

"The above lines are the production of a lady who has resided in the neighbourhood of Matlock Bath for some time past"[12].

5.
[The New Bath Hotel and its Lime Tree][13]
?
There's a linden tree grows, in the garden so well,
That its branches o'er shadow a full rood of ground,
As you may prove clearly if you'll only go round;
And its limbs are supported by forty-nine stakes,
Like the banyan that grows by Hindoostan's Lakes.

And the fountain moreover - aye, honour the fountain,
That, clear as a crystal, bursts forth from the mountain!
All sparking and gushing and limpid it flows,
And the Bath receives it as onward it goes ;
'Tis a chosen retreat, sure, the New Bath Inn.
There's beauty without and there's comfort within.

This poem was said to have been left on a table in one of the rooms by a visitor "many years" before. Another source says it was written in the visitor's book.
No date.

 
      
Matlock Bath: New Bath Hotel (2)

Shows the tree before it was badly damaged some time before 1910 and then blown down in 1912.

W. H. Young (no dates)


Hydropathy at Matlock House[14]

With Matlock I'm asked in great raptures to go,
With its hills and its dales and its rivers that flow ;
I'm expected to like the kind "treatment" I get,
Though indoors and out I get nothing but wet.

In the morning at seven I'm awoke by the bell,
Then my wife rubs her eyes and wishes me well
In the bath James prepares for me in his best style,
And he gives me a "rain," just to keep down the bile.

At breakfast I meet with such charming young faces
That I feel I am learning what real and true grace is;
I then make enquiries for the health of my neighbours,
Just to let them all know of what my mind savours.
At noon my big bath is due, and let me tell ye;
For shew ye I cant, 'cause I don't want to sell ye;
But you've heard of young babies when they first appear
Well James makes me like one. Now isn't that queer?

But now for my martyrdom ; how shall I tell it?
The whole heavens seem falling ; I think I can smell it,
There's thunder and lightning and brimstone I'm sure
One constant and heavy and dreadful down-pour

Oh James pray have mercy, I feel I am dying,
A gulf is before me, I'm surely not lying
"You are indeed truly," the bath-man exclaims,
You are having a "spine-douche" to cure your back pains.

Thank my stars it's now o'er, and I'll dress me foe dinner
I bore it all bravely, but feel somewhat thinner,
The bell rings again, and sometimes for feeding,
I hasten to follow, my wife gladly leading.

One rule of the house is "no talking at meals"
Of baths or of symptoms that anyone feels ;
I follow the rule out as well as I'm able
And counsel all near me to "silence" at table;

Now you've heard it remarked I daresay of old
That a man's not thought much of if he's not bold
In ladies' society, at least I am told,
But these are not sentiments that I myself hold.

I like to hear talk, so I listen well pleased
And always feel happy though often I'm teased,
So dinner goes on and I sit very still
And look round at others while taking my fill.

The Matlock-House dinners all visitors say
Would be thought very good if you'd much more to pay,
But like other things to an end they must come
And so must my rhyming and all my poor fun.

The bath-man now wants me, he says for a "pack,"
The beginning of which is to lie on my back ;
Then he takes a wet sheet and wraps me up in it,
And in joke asks me then, would I like to take sup in it.

I'm kept there an hour, unable to move
My patience, I must think, in order to prove ;
When as warm as a pudding and feeling quite nice
I'm plunged in cold water - much colder than ice.

This is Hydropathy, the "treatment" I got
And I'm asked to admire it, if I like it or not
Well, there's one thing I say, and that not in fun,
I went to it Old, and I go away

[And with that the verse finishes! The most obvious word to fill the gap is "numb" and "young" would not quite rhyme.]

 

Matlock House Hydropathic Establishment Advertisement, 1888.
Advertisement, with engraving, from "Black's Guide to Derbyshire" (1888), with quotation from the guide and a later directory. Includes details of the nineteenth century proprietors.


  
Matlock: Matlock House Hydro, Early Twentieth Century


Image of the Cumberland Cavern poem in the collection of and provided by and © Glynn Waite.
Page written, additional research by and provided by and © Ann Andrews.
All on this page is intended for personal use only.

References:

[1] Published in Bryan, Benjamin (1903) "History of Matlock - Matlock, Manor and Parish" London by Bemrose & Sons, Limited.

[2] From "The Derby Mercury", 11 October 1865, but originally published in that paper in August 1811.

[3] "The Gem of the Peak" by W. Adam pub. London; Longman & Co., Paternoster Row (1840). 2nd Edition. See on site transcript, petrifying wells.

[4] John Betjeman's Collected Poems, John Murray (Publishers) Ltd., 50 Albermarle Street, London, WIX 4BD © John Betjeman 1968, 1962, 1970.

[5] Published in Firth, J. B. (1908) "Highways and Byways in Derbyshire" MacMillan & Co., London

[6] Darwin's poem, with accompanying explanatory notes by Wiliam Adam, was published in Adam, W. (1838) "The Gem of the Peak; or Matlock Bath and Its Vicinity. ..." London; Longman & Co., Paternoster Row ; ... Mawe, Royal Museum, Matlock ; .... This was the first edition of Adam's guide.

[7] "Derbyshire Courier", 21 October 1882. Notes from Matlock. Searches for Beebe Eyre show her to have been a law stationer who was born in Tideswell, but lived in Derby and died there at the end of 1871.

[8] William Gregory wrote a number of poems about Bonsall and the surrounding area. They are now part of the collection of and © Susan Tomlinson. William was born in Bonsall and lived there for most of his life although he moved to Little London in Holloway, which was where he died. The poems were eventually given to Susan's parents by William's daughter as she lived next door to them.

[9] "Derbyshire Courier", 8 July 1882. Matlock Bath.

[10] In 1861 the Cumberland Cavern was described as "the greatest wonder of the place" and should be visited first (Northampton Mercury, 7 September 1861). See a description of the Cavern in Bemroses' Guide to Matlock ... , about 1869, p.14 and Smedley's advertisement in the same publication. Also see Matlock Bath: Royal Cumberland Cavern. He and his wife Ann were buried at St. Giles', Matlock.

[11] Extracted from Henricus (1838) "The Matlock Tourist". The Matlock section of the 1843 edition is elsewhere on this site. Henricus placed quotation marks around the verses in his publication, so it is presumed that the words were not his own in item 1.

[12] "Derbyshire Courier", 26 August 1882. Matlock Notes. Historical, Descriptive, and Colloquial.

[13] Published in a number of newspapers. Extracted from "Derby Daily Telegraph", 8 November 1910 and 26 July 1912.

[14] Extracted from "Derbyshire Times", 9 July 1881.