Approach to Peak's Hole.

15

that supersedes the necessity of future observations. It is not a pleasant task to travel over ground that has been so often occupied, where nothing remains to be gathered except what others have omitted or refused to notice: yet such precisely is the situation of the tourist who traverses a country where many have been before him, and whose pen has to delineate the features of scenes on which others have previously lavished the riches of description. Language is better adapted to express sentiment and feeling than accurately to depict the scenery of nature: hence the difficulty a writer always experiences in conveying to others even a tolerable idea of the forms of which it is composed, and the character it assumes: nor is the pencil on all occasions a more efficient instrument than the pen. In pourtraying the near approach to Peak's Hole and the entrance into the first grand cavern, these powerful little agents have but rarely been directed by able hands. Where failure is common, and where with very few exceptions it has been almost uniformly the same, a want of success can hardly be attended with disgrace.

Peak's Hole is situated at the extremity of a deep and narrow rocky chasm, whose craggy projections hide it from the traveller until he is near enough to measure with his cye the whole of its magnificent dimensions, and feel the full force of its effect on his imagination : it then suddenly bursts upon him in all the wildness of its character, obscurely grand and awfully terrific. Such a heavy mass of unsupported rock,

"By its own weight made stedfast and immoveable,"

when first beheld produces an involuntary shuddering; from this the

mind soon recovers, and forgetting the selfish apprehension of danger, reposes with an awful sublimity of feeling amidst the gloomy vastness of this amazing cavern. The light at the entrance is generally favourable, and it sometimes falls boldly and sharply on the rocky projections in the foreground of the picture; then suddenly fades away, and gradually loses itself in impenetrable gloom and utter darkness.

The dubious twilight that pervades the interior of the first cavern of Peak's Hole, especially when viewed from without, eminently serves the purposes of grandeur: dark, confused, and uncertain objects, float before the mind, which, not limited in its operations by any obvious or defined boundary, but left to expatiate at large, gives extent to space, and contemplates with solemn and profound complacency the indistinct and mysterious images of its own creation. This train of thought and tone of feeling are sometimes interrupted by a human being passing in distance athwart the gloom; his haggard figure, as he stalks along, wrapped in an uncouth but picturesque garb, and his umbered face, brightly illumined with the torch he bears. This is not the portraiture of imagination---it is what almost every day presents, and it is an appendage admirably in character with the scene. The banditti figures with which Salvator peopled his landscapes, could alone make the picture more terrible.

Other occurrences still more adventitious, occasionally conspire to improve the sublime effects of this stupendous cavern, and exalt the imagination of the beholder, amidst the loneliness and horrors of a place never visited by the cheering rays of the sun. Here" there is a path which no fowl knoweth, and which the vulture's eye hath not

seen." During my last excursion to Castleton I observed a party of twelve or fifteen persons entering Peak's Hole, and being anxious to mark the appearance which the cavern presented when irradiated with their torches, I accompanied them to a situation favourable for my purpose. They had prepared themselves with proper habiliments for the occasion---loose gowns were thrown over their travelling dresses, and the ladies had covered their heads with a species of shawl, that came over the shoulders, and was fastened across the bosom. Monks with cowls, and nuns with hoods, seemed to make up the whole party. They followed their guide along a rude path in a winding direction, each carrying a lighted torch. Portions of the roof of the cavern were thus successively exhibited in flitting gleams and shadows; and as they moved onwards, the spars and stalactites that hung over their heads, glittered with evanescent splendour. As they receded slowly through surrounding darkness, each individual in the procession appeared invested with a mild halo of light, for the distance and the intervening gloom subdued and softened the glare of the torches, and the whole was solemn and impressive beyond conception. The strange emotions of delight awakened by this novel scene were favoured by the breathless silence that prevailed, which was only occasionally interrupted by a drop of water falling at intervals from the roof of the cave upon the floor beneath, with a dead and leaden sound, that was more felt than heard.

Within the far extended ribs and layers of massy rock which form the roof and sides of Peak's Hole, are several huts or dwellings, humble indeed, but yet inhabited, and men, women, and children, rudely clad, and employed in the manufacture of twine, give life and animation to this singular scene. When a few only of the many individuals en

gaged in this business are at work, there is something picturesque in their appearance; but peopled as the place generally is, its solemnity is interrupted by noise and clamour, and an effect is produced not altogether in unison with its natural character. Those who wish to feel how very impressive Peak's Hole can occasionally be, should contrive to visit it alone, when the spinners are absent, and silence and solitude prevail.

At the extremity of the spacious cavern that may be regarded as the vestibule of Peak's Hole, it suddenly contracts, and becomes in many places only a narrow aperture, which is continued through various windings to the extent of two thousand two hundred and fifty feet. In traversing this damp and dreary wilderness, several capacious openings or interior caverns occur, which are known by the different appellations of the Bell House---Roger Rain's House---the Chancel--the Devil's Cellar---the Half-Way House---and great Tom of Lincoln, &c. &c. and a current of water is several times forded in exploring this subterranean passage. This stream buries itself in the earth at a place called Perry Foot, nearly three miles from Castleton, on the road to Chapel-en-le-frith, and after running through Peak's Hole, re-issues into day at the entrance into this sublime orifice. Formerly an assumed ignorance threw an air of mystery over the origin of this little rivulet ; no one could conjecture from whence it came: its source is now, however, no longer doubtful.

An intelligent foreigner, in his Journal of a Tour and residence in Great Britain, observes, "that he was struck on approaching Peak's Hole with its strong resemblance to the rock of the Fontaine de Vaucluse."