Chapter I

THE TRENT, FROM THE SOURCE TO NEWTON SOLNEY.

The Course of the Trent--A Lowland Stream--Etymological--A
Fish-Stream--The Source--The Potteries--Burslem,
Etruria, and Josiah Wedgwood--Stoke-upon-Trent--Trentham
Hall--Stone--Sandon--Chartley Castle--Ingestre and its
Owners--The Sow--Tixall--Essex Bridge--Shugborough--Cannock
Chase--Rugeley--Beaudesert--Armitage--The Blyth--Alrewas--The
Tame--Burton-upon-Trent--Newton Solney.

Some of our chief English rivers seek out paths for their waters, the motive of which is by no means easy to explain. Father Thames, indeed, goes about this work in a fairly businesslike way. Born on the eastern slopes of the Cotswolds he makes his way to the sea by a tolerably direct course. Not so Trent. Rising on the western slopes of the backbone of England, one would have expected that, like the Weaver on the one side of it, and the Dane on the other, it would have made its way towards the estuaries of the Dee or the Mersey; but it flows first of all nearly south, parallel with the trend of the great hill district of Derbyshire and North Staffordshire, and then after this has sunk down to the lowlands of the latter county, Trent bends towards the east, until the hills are left behind, when it sweeps round to the north, and so makes its way towards the Ouse and the Humber. Thus its course, like that of Dee, still more of Severn, may be roughly likened to a fish-hook. But, unlike these rivers, and like Thames, Trent, throughout its whole course, is a lowland rather than an upland stream. The hill region already mentioned is, indeed, drained by some of its tributaries, and its western slopes give birth to the little stream which first bears the name of Trent, and for a time traverses the North Staffordshire coalfield, but the river soon enters the district composed of sandstones, gravels, and marls (referred by geologists to the Trias), and as these are but rarely either hard or durable, the scenery is neither bold nor conspicuously varied. Such change as it exhibits is due rather to difference of productiveness than to diversity of physical features. In regard to the latter the extremes are only from level plain to undulating hills of moderate elevation, but the former affords every variety between barren moorland and densely wooded or richly cultivated ground.

Michael Drayton thus explains the etymology of Trent, and assigns to it a mystic significance when he tells the tale of

... A long-told prophecy, which ran
Of Moreland, that she might live prosperously to see
A river born of her, who well might reckoned be
The third of this large isle: which saw did first arise
From Arden, in those days delivering prophecies.
* * * * *
To satisfy her will, the wizard answers, Trent.
For, as a skilful seer, the aged forest wist,
A more than usual power did in that name consist,
Which thirty doth import; by which she thus divined,
There should be found in her of fishes thirty kind;
And thirty abbeys great, in places fat and rank,
Should in succeeding time have builded on her bank;
And thirty several streams from many a sundry way
Unto her greatness should their watery tribute pay.

On the same side may be quoted Camden and Spenser and Milton, yet philology is too strong for poetry, and modern scholars declare that the name Trent has nothing to do with the Latin word for thirty or any of its modifications in the Romance languages, but is of Celtic origin, is only a contracted form of Derwent, and means river-water. The first of the two words which compose the dissyllable Derwent, and enter into the monosyllabic Trent, is that which appears in the Doire, Dora, Douro, Durance, and other European rivers; the second is indicated by the Latin Venta, a name borne by more than one riverside town in Roman Britain.

The Trent and its tributaries were noted of old as fish-streams, and even now, after years of neglect and poaching, it would not be difficult to make up the "thirty kinds of fish" which were once said to people its waters. Isaak Walton has made the upper reaches of the Dove classic ground; and there, as in the Blyth, and in gravelly parts of the main river, one may yet see "here and there a lusty trout and here and there a grayling." Eels were and still are numerous in the more muddy parts of its bed; pike are also common, though the giants of olden days are vanished like the Rephaim; for in the last century, a county historian tells us, fish weighing more than twenty pounds were not seldom caught, and one monster of thirty-six pounds is said to have been found dead. The barbel also is a Trent fish, and the stream may claim the salmon. One was caught many years ago so far away from the sea as Rugeley, but it was white and out of season. Swans in several districts add to the beauty of its waters, and build their nests by its side among the willow-beds and reeds.

The river is navigable only as far as Burton, for above that town it is interrupted by weirs and by shallows; but canals follow the valley, and in the year 1849 the railroad uniting Rugby with Stafford passed along it for a few miles, and directed through a district, hitherto secluded, the traffic between London and Holyhead or the great towns of western Lancashire. This railway quitted the Trent near its junction with the Sow, but a few years later the towns higher up the river, forming the important district of the Staffordshire Potteries, were reached by a line which branches off from the main system of the London and North-Western Company at Colwich.

_Walker & Boutall sc._

THE TRENT, FROM THE SOURCE TO NEWTON SOLNEY.]

The birthplace of Trent, like that of many persons afterwards famous, is inconspicuous. The river, according to Erdeswick, "hath its first spring in the moorlands between Bidulph and Norton, and divideth the shire almost into two equal parts, north and south." There is little to note in its earlier course. One or two of the adjacent villages possess some link with our older history, notably "Stanleghe," of which the author just quoted says, "of this small village do all the great houses of Stanley take their name." But before long a district is entered, unpleasing indeed to the artist, but welcome to the man of commerce--a land of chimneys and smoke, of kilns and furnaces, not only for earth but also for metal. This is the district popularly called the Potteries, a group of towns often so nearly confluent as to defy distinction by all but residents. Tunstall and Burslem, Newcastle-under-Lyme, Hanley and Stoke-upon-Trent: these, with such suburbs as Etruria, occupy a strip of country some ten miles long, drained by the youthful Trent and its tributaries, a composite or confluent hive of human bees. We will venture but on one positive statement, that Stoke-upon-Trent is the last of these towns, and below it the river emerges into more attractive scenery. In this district the smelting furnaces and ironworks are industries comparatively modern, but for centuries it has been noted for its earthenware. Burslem, one of the towns more distant from the Trent, appears to be the oldest, for under the name of Bulwardsleme it is mentioned in Domesday Book, and its "butter-pots" were noted in the days of the Stuarts. When Dr. Plot wrote his History of Staffordshire--that is, during the short reign of James II.--it was the chief place for the potter's industry, and he tells us that "for making several sorts of pots they have as many different sorts of clay, which they dig round about the town, all within half a mile's distance, the best being found near the coal." This earthenware was all coloured, for the white clay from Cornwall had not yet been imported into the district. The most marked advance was due to one man--Josiah Wedgwood, who was born to the trade in 1730. The effect of an illness in youth led him to turn his thoughts to the more delicate work, and he soon exhibited great skill in manufacturing ornamental pottery. When nearly thirty years old he established himself in business at Burslem, and produced such results as the white-stone ware, green glazed earthenware, cream-coloured Queen's ware, and the unglazed black porcelain. The works, however, at Burslem soon proved too small for his needs, and in 1766 he purchased an estate, built a large establishment on the bank of the Grand Trunk Canal, between Hanley and Newcastle, calling it Etruria, in remembrance of the so-called "Etruscan vases," which were among his favourite models. Aided in business by his partner, Bentley, in art by the talent of Flaxman, Wedgwood prospered, and Etruria under his management surpassed the fame of Worcester, and rivalled that of Sèvres or Dresden. Wedgwood, in fact, by the graceful form and harmonious decoration of his wares, did not a little to educate the national taste and raise it from the easy contentment with opulent ugliness which is the general characteristic of the "Hanoverian period" of British Art. Since his days the village has become a town; the ironworks of Shelton have helped in blackening the precincts of Etruria Hall, which Wedgwood built, and in the cellars of which he made his experiments; Spode and Minton and Copeland have added to the fame of the Potteries; villages and towns have grown beyond recognition, and houses have hid what once were fields; but though these and other makers have produced, or still produce, many admirable and characteristic works, "old Wedgwood ware" maintains a unique position among the masterpieces of ceramic art.

We must not linger over the Grand Trunk Canal, nor the fame of Brindley, the engineer, a native of this part of Staffordshire, nor shall we be much tempted to tarry in Stoke-upon-Trent--at any rate, for æsthetic reasons--unless we confine ourselves to the interior of its show rooms, though there is many a worse place to live in. It is mightily changed since the days when Erdeswick wrote of it, "Of Stoke I can report no more but that the parson of the parish is the best man in the town, being lord thereof, and it being one of the best parsonages in the county." The parson now is a bishop and a baronet, but the town is yet more important.

It contains many buildings which larger towns could not despise: a handsome modern church, a fine town-hall, and a school of science and art, which is a memorial to the late Mr. Minton. Statues, or monuments of some kind, to several members of the great potter families--Wedgwood, Spode, Minton, and others--will be found here, and the town itself is regarded as the centre and show place of the district.

Below Stoke, and almost within sight of its chimneys by the side of Trent, stands one of the "stately homes" of England--Trentham Hall, a seat of the Duke of Sutherland. The mansion lies low on the flat bed of the valley; the park mounts the slopes on the right hand, thus affording great variety of scenery, from richly-wooded meadows to rather open moorland. There is nothing to suggest a settlement of great antiquity, yet a monastery was founded here in the days of Alfred. Enlarged by Ranulf Earl of Chester, it passed, after the Dissolution, into the hands of the Levesons, ancestors of the present duke. One of them built on its site a fine Jacobean house, of which Plot gives a plate together with the following quaint note: "The stone-rail upon the wall built about the green-court before Trentham House is a pretty piece of work, it being supported with Roman capital letters instead of ballisters, containing an inscription not only setting forth the name of the ancient Proprietor and builder of this Seat, but the time when it was done, the Numeral Letters put together making up the year of our Lord, when it was finish't, viz., 1633."

This house was pulled down early in the last century, when the nucleus of the present mansion was erected, which, however, was greatly enlarged and altered by Sir Charles Barry in the time of the late duke. The church, which adjoins the house, contains remnants of very early work and some interesting monuments. There is a large sheet of water in the gardens, which are famed for many a mile round for their beauty, and surpass any that will be found elsewhere near the margin of the Trent.

After passing Trentham the river gradually loses the traces of the grime of the potteries and coalfields, and glides along through pleasant pastoral scenery till it reaches Stone. This, for long a sleepy little country town, has been awakened by the railway and other causes, and seems now to be a fairly busy and thriving place, devoted chiefly to malting, brewing, and shoemaking. There is little to indicate antiquity, except a few fragments of an old nunnery, for the church dates from the last century, when that which had once served the religious house tumbled down.

Stone, nevertheless, begins its history more than twelve centuries ago. There lived then a certain Wulfere, king of Mercia, who had a residence somewhere near Stone: tradition asserts at Bury Bank, rather higher up the Trent, where an earthwork still exists. Wulfere was a heathen and a persecutor, but a holy hermit, named Ceadda, better known as St. Chad, who died bishop of Lichfield, was dwelling hidden in the neighbouring forest. The king's two sons were hunting one day, and were led by the chase to the saint's abode. The young men felt the charm of his words, repeated their visit, and became converts. Of course this was soon made known to their father; the parent was forgotten in the persecutor, and the young men were put to death. But time brought its revenges, though in this case merciful. Before many years were over Wulfere himself became a Christian, and then, as a monument of sorrow and penitence, he founded a monastery at Stone, where also a nunnery was established by his queen.

The last statement, as to the date of the foundation, is probably true, but all the rest of the story, like many another concerning Chad, is only legend. Since then Stone, as is the case with many other country towns, has shared in the beatitude of having no history. The suppression of its convents, the ruin of its church, and a connection with the Rebellion of 1745--the latter events happening in the same decade--appear to have been the chief incidents that have ruffled its even existence. The last-named incident might have given it a place in national history, had things taken another course. The young Pretender Charles Edward, after his triumph in Scotland, had crossed the Solway, and begun his invasion of England. He was expected to advance upon London along the line of the main road from Manchester, so the Duke of Cumberland encamped in the neighbourhood of Stone to dispute his passage. Charles, however, as is well known, struck eastward, and on arriving at Derby, was a long day's march nearer London than the duke's army. The inherent weakness of his forces averted the danger, and the Hanoverian troops had only to pursue the retreating enemy till he made his last hopeless stand on the moor of Culloden.

Below Stone the river passes Sandon, an old village. There are not many prettier places in all the valley of the Trent than the park of the Harrowbys with its slopes of grove and sward, the higher parts of which command views of unusual extent, not only over the rich river valley of the Trent, but also as far as the Wrekin and Caradoc hills. On elevated ground, at the edge of the park, is the parish church, containing several interesting remains of olden time, the most conspicuous, though by no means the most ancient, being the monument to Sampson Erdeswick, the historian of Staffordshire, and former owner of the estate, who died in the year 1603. The property ultimately passed into the hands of the Duke of Hamilton, and a law-suit in regard to it is reported to have occasioned the quarrel between the duke and Lord Mohun which, as is well known, had so tragic an ending. Erdeswick's house, of which the site is still marked, was a fine old brick and timber edifice, surrounded by a moat; but in the last century a new and uninteresting mansion was erected by Lord Archibald Hamilton, which was burned down in 1848, and replaced by a more handsome building in the Tudor style. From him the property was purchased by an ancestor of the present owner, the Earl of Harrowby.

Rather below Sandon, near the little village of Shirleywich, brine is obtained. Fortunately, however, for the beauty of the scenery, there has been no temptation to establish extensive salt works. The quiet little villages on the lowlands, near the river, offer nothing to delay the traveller; but the grey ruins, high on the left bank, mark a place of some note. Those two broken towers, those fragments of curtain-wall, are remnants of Chartley Castle; the moorland, which extends back from the park, is one of the few spots in England where the descendants of _bos primigenius_ still linger on in a semi-wild condition. The castle, though it carries back its history to early in the thirteenth century, makes little figure in history. The present house is on lower ground, and parts of it are older than the reign of Elizabeth, who not only visited it herself, but made it one of the prisons of Mary Queen of Scots. The estate formerly was included among those of the great Earls of Chester, but has for long been part of the family property of the present owner, Earl Ferrers. There is a tragic tale about a former earl, who was a man of ungovernable temper--probably insane, and shot his own steward. Feudal times were then too far away, and his coronet could not save him from the halter.

The wild cattle, of which it is not generally easy, and, at certain seasons, not always safe, to obtain a near view are, according to Shaw, the historian of Staffordshire, "in colour invariably white, muzzles and ears black, and horns white, fine-tipped with black." If a black calf be born it is promptly destroyed, not only because it might alter the constancy of the breed, but also because it is deemed an evil omen, for its birth, so folk believe, is followed by the death of a member of the family.

Some distance away, on the opposite bank of the Trent, just where the ground begins to rise from the level of the valley, stands one of the most picturesque, and formerly one of the most interesting, mansions along the whole course of the river. This is Ingestre, the home of the Chetwynd-Talbots, now Earls of Shrewsbury. Formerly it was a perfect specimen of an Elizabethan mansion, but in the year 1882 it was reduced by fire to a mere shell of masonry, and many family relics of interest were destroyed. It has, however, been rebuilt, and as in many places the old walls had remained uninjured, the external appearance is little changed. The plate in Plot's "Staffordshire" represents a formal garden and courtyard in front, with the church close at hand, near the eastern end of the house, to which some additions have been subsequently made. The other features, though they can still be traced in part, have been modified in compliance with the less formal taste of later ages; but the church is unaltered--a grey stone structure of little architectural beauty, erected in the latter part of the seventeenth century by the owner of the estates in place of one which occupied a less convenient situation, and was in a dilapidated condition. This is the history of its consecration, as it is given by Plot, who tells us that milled shillings, halfpence, and farthings "coyn'd that year (1673) were put into hollow places cut for that purpose in the larger corner-stone of the steeple." Afterwards he continues, "The church being thus finisht at the sole charge of the said Walter Chetwynd, in August An. 1677 it was solemnly consecrated by the right Reverend Father in God Thomas Lord Bishop of Coventry and Lichfield; the Dean of Lichfield preaching the Sermon, and some others of the most eminent Clergy reading prayers; baptizing a Child; Churching a woman; joyning a couple in Matrimony and burying another; all which offices were also there performed the same day. The pious and generous Founder and Patron offering upon the Altar the tithes of Hopton a village hard by, to the value of fifty pounds _per Annum_, as an addition to the Rectory for ever: presenting the Bishop and Dean at the same time, each with a piece of plate double guilt, as a gratefull acknowledgment of their service: and entertaining the Nobility, Clergy, and Gentry, both Men and Women, of the whole County in a manner, which came that day to see the solemnity performed, with a most splendid dinner at his house near adjoyning."

The owners of Ingestre were descendants of the great Talbot family which fills so large a space in English history during the middle ages. The titles of Earl Talbot and Viscount Ingestre were conferred in the eighteenth century, and in the year 1856, in the lifetime of the third earl, the great law-suit was begun to establish his right to the earldom of Shrewsbury, and the large estates covered by the entail. For at least a century and a half the Earls of Shrewsbury had been Roman Catholics, and during all that time the title had not gone by direct descent, so it had become a saying in the county that so long as a Romanist held the title, no heir would be born to him. Thus, on the death of Earl Bertram, while still a young man and unmarried, great doubt existed as to the succession. The suit "involved two separate questions, namely, who was really the next-of-kin, and whether the estates were separable from the earldom. These had been entailed by an Act of Parliament obtained by the Duke of Shrewsbury, in the beginning of the eighteenth century, but it was doubtful whether the entail did not expire in the person of the young Earl Bertram. He was of opinion that it did, and being an ardent Roman Catholic, left the estates and all the art treasures contained in Alton Towers (the principal seat of his ancestors) to the Duke of Norfolk, so that they might still be owned by an obedient son of the Pope of Rome. It was, however, contended that the entail was yet valid and the estates were inseparable from the title. For the latter two claimants appeared, the one Earl Talbot of Ingestre in Staffordshire, the other Major Talbot of Castle Talbot, county Wexford. The former claimed as descendant of a son of the second wife of a certain Sir John Talbot of Albrighton, grandson of the second Earl of Shrewsbury; the latter as a descendant of a son of the first wife of the same person. If Major Talbot could have proved his pedigree, obviously he would have succeeded. This, however, he failed to do to the satisfaction of the House of Lords, who decided that Henry John Chetwynd, the Earl of Talbot, had made out his claim. He accordingly took the oath and his seat as eighteenth earl, June 10th, 1858. The important suit about the estates was not decided till 1860, when the Court of Exchequer pronounced the will of the late Earl Bertram, as far as concerned the entailed property, to be invalid."[2]

Neither the winner, nor his son and successor, lived long to enjoy their victory, and the title devolved upon the present earl when he was still a boy. However, the charm seems broken, and the popular belief has been confirmed, for the earldom has already twice descended in the direct line.

Beautiful as is Ingestre Hall, its situation is hardly less attractive. The ground swells up from the old-fashioned garden into low hills, carpeted with grass, and shaded by fine old trees and clustering copses, which at last sink down into the rich meadows, through which the Trent winds slowly on. Rather below Ingestre it receives its first important affluent, which bears the prosaic name of the Sow. It is a stream of hardly less magnitude, but of less beauty and interest, which comes down a broad and well-marked valley from Stafford; this, though the chief town of the county, possesses little to interest the traveller; it is, however, an important railway junction, and is, besides, busied in shoemaking. The Sow also, before reaching the Trent, receives an affluent which is hardly less than itself. This is the Penk, which rises on the edge of the industrial district of South Staffordshire, and follows a northerly course through pleasant scenery on the western border of Cannock Chase until it meets the Sow.

Between the latter river and the Trent lies the estate of Tixall, once the property of the Astons and then of the Cliffords, but purchased some forty years since by the Talbots. The house, which stands nearer to the Sow, is a comparatively modern stone structure, plain and heavy in style, very inferior to the picturesque old dwelling which is represented by Plot, and of which he remarks that "the windows, though very numerous, are scarce two alike;" but the grey and ivy-clad old gateway "a curious piece of stone-work," built in 1589, though dismantled, still remains much as it was when his plate was engraved. It stands just at the foot of the slope, where the low hills die away to the river plain, which here is perhaps half a mile in width; fine old trees cluster thickly in the neighbourhood of the house and around the little village, almost masking its cottages and its tiny church. Down the valley we see the woods of Shugborough closing the view and clothing the opposite slope beyond the union of the two rivers, and above them rises a triumphal arch, a memorial of a former owner of the hall, who was a man of note in his day and generation.

The Trent, after it has taken large tribute from the Sow, flows through the park of the Earls of Lichfield, which is certainly not the least beautiful of those on its banks. The house, indeed, is not well situated, for it is built on the valley plain near the river, and is an uninteresting structure in the plainest Hanoverian style, but the scenery of the park is no less varied than beautiful. Here are broad and level meadows, shaded by groups of aged trees, and extending to the margin of the river; the plain gradually breaking into picturesque undulations as it approaches either border of the valley. On the left bank this is quickly reached. Here the slopes descend steeply to the river; on the opposite side, at a greater distance, the park begins to climb the outlying moorlands of Cannock Chase, on which, at intervals, cultivation wholly ceases.

The ancestors of the present earl have resided on this estate since the reign of James I., but the first to reach the peerage was Admiral George Anson, who, in 1740, began a protracted voyage, during which he circumnavigated the globe, and inflicted great injuries on the Spanish settlements in the New World. Afterwards he defeated the French in a naval engagement. As a reward for these and other services he was created Baron Anson, but the title expired with him. A nephew, however, who succeeded to his estate, was ultimately created Viscount Anson, and the earldom of Lichfield dates from 1831.

Shortly below its junction with the Sow the Trent is crossed by a curious old bridge, which, if only for its view of the valley, is worth a visit. Just above it the stream is divided by a wooded island and the western branch tumbles over a tiny weir: then the united waters, after passing beneath the bridge, contract as they flow between banks overhung by trees; these are backed on the left by the steep slopes already mentioned, but on the right stretch away till the wooded plain mounts to the uplands of Cannock Chase. The Essex Bridge, as it is called, from some connection with the family of Devereux, once owners of Chartley, even now consists of fourteen arches, but, according to the old county histories, was formerly of greater length. It is, however, difficult to see on which side the bridge has been cut short; but possibly the road across the valley may have been continued by a causeway, which was included with the bridge. This is a singularly picturesque old structure of grey sandstone, only about four feet in width, with an angle of refuge for foot passengers at every one of the piers--a convenience which will be appreciated by the traveller even if he encounter only a tricycle in crossing.

In the park of Shugborough, and for a short distance below this, Trent approaches nearest to the edge of Cannock Chase. Indeed, for rather more than a mile above Wolseley Bridge, opposite the villages of Great Heywood and Colwich, a walk of a furlong, through a mere belt of cultivated land, leads on to an open moor which in some directions extends without a break for miles. The Chase is an undulating upland rising some three or four hundred feet above the valley of the Trent, and often not far from six hundred feet above sea level, a plateau consisting of rolling hills and narrow valleys with steeply shelving sides, composed almost wholly of the "pebble beds"--thick masses of a rather hard and sandy gravel containing pebbles which often are three or four inches in diameter. There is practically no surface soil, and thus the moors offers little temptation to the "land-grabbers." Of late years indeed its area has been diminished, and its beauties not augmented, by considerable enclosures in the neighbourhood of Rugeley and Hednesford, and by the opening of collieries near the latter place. But the new fields do not seem likely to do much more than pay interest on the first expenditure, and the collieries have not been so uniformly successful as to cause apprehensions that, at any rate in the present generation, the moorland will become a "Black Country." Another danger has lately threatened its solitudes, for a tract of Cannock Chase was one of the sites proposed for the meeting of the National Rifle Association in succession to Wimbledon Common. Bisley has been preferred, but there is still a possibility that this tract may be used as a practice ground for the Volunteers of the Midland and Northern counties, in which case the charm of another large segment of the Chase will quickly vanish.

At present, notwithstanding the occasional prospect of distant collieries, there are few districts in the Midlands which offer more attractions than Cannock Chase. The contour of the ground, it is true, does not exhibit much variety. It is, as has been said, an undulating plateau from which fairly well-marked valleys, gradually deepening, descend towards the lowlands, but there is much diversity in the minor details. Here sturdy oaks are scattered or graceful birches cluster close on slope or valley. Here only some weather-beaten sentinel of either tree, or a wind-worn thorn breaks the barrenness of the hill, or a few Scotch firs crown its crest. Almost everywhere the bracken flourishes, and heath or ling grows thick on the stony soil. So, in the late summer, the Chase for miles glows with the crimson bloom of the heath, or is flushed with the tender pink of the ling, while as autumn draws on the fern turns to gold on the slopes, and on the barer brows the bilberry leaf changes to scarlet, and the moor, soon to don the russet hue of its winter garb, seems to reflect the rich tints of the sunset sky. But this is not all. Among its many charms is the contrast of scenery: one moment you may be quite shut in by the undulations of the moorland--sweeps of fern and heath and ling bounding the view on every side--seemingly as far from the haunts of man as among the Sutherland Hills; but the next, on gaining the crest of some rounded ridge, many a mile of fertile lowland spreads out before your eyes--many a league of the rich vales of the Trent and the Sow, one vast and varied tapestry of woodland and cornfield and pasture, while beyond and above, rise, in this direction, the Wrekin dome and the Caradoc peaks, in that the great rounded uplands of Derbyshire, and in that the more broken outlines of the Charnwood Forest Hills. Deer once were common, black-game and grouse abundant, the snipe and even the woodcock made their nests in the valleys, and other rare birds were to be seen. But now the deer are few and the game is scanty. Cannock Chase, like the rest of Great Britain, suffers from the congestion of humanity.

But we must return to the Trent, from which we have wandered away into the moors. For a few miles, after leaving Shugborough Park, though it affords much pretty scenery, there is no place of special beauty or of historical interest near its banks. It passes under a new bridge, close to one of the approaches to the Chase; it leaves on the left the village of Colwich and its neat church, on the right Oakedge Park, from which the residence has now disappeared. This, more than a century since, was the scene of a local scandal--a fascinating widow, a midnight marriage, and a verification of the old proverb about haste and leisure in regard to that bond. Then the river glides beneath the three arches of Wolseley Bridge--deservedly held in repute for its graceful though simple design--and passes at the back of Wolseley Hall. The estate has been owned by Wolseleys from before the Norman Conquest--but the house is comparatively modern, is of little interest, and is placed too near the water. Of this family Viscount Wolseley is a member, tracing back his descent to a younger son of a former baronet, and is thus a distant cousin of Sir Charles Wolseley, the present owner of the estate.

About half a mile from the Trent, and almost at the foot of the uplands of Cannock Chase, lies Rugeley, a small market town, the chief industry of which is a tannery. This place some thirty years ago acquired an unenviable notoriety as the scene of a case of poisoning, which attracted much attention and presented points of legal interest. The chief railway station is near the river, and so at some distance from the town, of which little is seen. The slender spire which rises above its houses is that of the Roman Catholic Church; the Anglican Church is at the nearer entrance of the town. It was built early in the century, and if ugliness were a merit might claim the first rank, but on the opposite side of the road are the tower and some portions of the old church, which are not without a certain picturesqueness. The tall chimneys on the hill slopes, a mile or more beyond the town, indicate the northern boundary of the South Staffordshire coalfield. Here the escarpment of the moorlands is not very far away from a fault by which the coal measures are thrown down for so many hundred feet that no attempt has yet been made to sink shafts in the valley of the Trent.

Also on the uplands, and rather further away from Rugeley, is another of the great houses which are the chief interest of this part of the Trent. This is Beaudesert. Once a country seat of the Bishops of Lichfield, it passed into the hands of the Pagets in the reign of Henry VIII. A peerage has been long in the family, but the first Marquis of Anglesey was a dashing officer, who highly distinguished himself in the great war with France, and lost his leg at the battle of Waterloo, where he commanded the cavalry. The house, which stands in a commanding position high up on the slope of the uplands, is built of brick, and not a little of it dates from the reign of Elizabeth, though it is not a striking example of the architecture of that era. Several small villages are dotted over the lowlands near Trent side, each offering some little bit of antiquity or fragment of history, such as Armitage, with its church looking down on canal and river, or Mavesyn Ridware, with some tombs of interest in its highly restored Trinity aisle, and its story of a feud between Mavesyn de Ridware and Sir William of Handsacre; though over these we must not linger, but follow the Trent as it pursues its course through grassy meadows in a widening valley, leaving the old cathedral town of Lichfield some four miles away amidst the undulating ground on its southern bank. It glides by various small villages, and receives the tributary stream of the Blyth, which traverses one of the prettiest districts of Staffordshire, coming down by the park of the Bagots, and the remnant of the ancient forest of Needwood, where many a grand oak still flourishes. By the water side are many fair pictures--pleasant groupings of trees, and reeds, with wide straths of grass and glimpses of scattered farmhouses, or grey towers of village churches--each with its little cluster of memories, sometimes of more than local interest. Of these perhaps the most noteworthy is Alrewas, once famed for its eels. Excerpts from its registers are quoted by Shaw, and make interesting reading. Here they tell of a murder, there of a suicide, now of a death by drowning in Trent or Tame, now of heat, or drought, or frost. Fires and storms also figure in the record, even an earthquake, but the strangest tale of all is the following: "This 21st day of December, anno 1581, was the water of Trent dryed up and sodenly fallen so ebb that I, John Falkner, vicar, went over into the hall meddow, in a low peare of showes, about 4 of the clocke in the afternoone: and so it was never in the remembrance of any man then living in the droughtest yeare that any man had knownen, and the same water in the morning before was banke full, which was very strange."

The Tame, which joins the Trent near Alrewas, coming down by "Tamworth tower and town," nearly doubles the volume of the latter, which afterwards flows towards the north, that is in prolongation of the course of the former river. The valley widens yet more between the low hills of Leicestershire and the upland which formed part of Needwood Forest--that region "richly placed," as Drayton says, "'twixt Trent and battening Dove," which, though curtailed of its ancient extent by enclosure, still exhibits more than one grand old oak, and many a choice nook of forest scenery, while the views from the hilly district between the Blyth and the Dove are often of singular variety and beauty.

But now chimneys begin to bristle from the river-plain, and smoke to dim the brightness of the air. Is it fancy, or does a pleasant odour of brewing mingle with the scent of meadow-sweet and riverside herbs? It may well be, for we are approaching Burton-upon-Trent, the metropolis of beer. The description written of it for other pages may be given here:--"If the visitor to Burton care neither to drink of beer nor think of beer, he will not find much to detain him there. Though an old place, it possesses little of antiquity; nor is there any picturesqueness either in its houses or in its streets. It gives one the idea of a typical Staffordshire town--that is to say, a very uninteresting one--which during the last half century has developed into an important mercantile centre. There is thus a certain air of incompleteness about it. Homely buildings of the times of our grandfathers are mixed with handsome modern structures; a fine church, school, or institute rises among dwellings of the most ordinary type; one shop is appropriate to the quiet country town of the last generation, another to the bustling country town of the present. But there is one dominant characteristic--Burton is wholly given over to beer. The great breweries occupy whole districts of the town, and are intersected by the streets; these are traversed again and again by rails; and locomotives, dragging laden wagons--trains of beer--pass and repass in a way unprecedented in any other English town. Great piles of barrels--the Pyramids of the Valley of the Trent--greet the traveller's eye as he halts at the station, and the air is redolent with the fumes of brewing."[3]

The development of this industry is comparatively of late date, though the ale of Burton has long enjoyed a local reputation. Even the monks of its abbey were noted for the excellence of their beer; but Leland and Camden speak only of its alabaster works. "But in the earlier part of the seventeenth century, beer from the district--which, probably, was in part brewed at Burton--was introduced into London. This, however, bore the name of Derby ale, and by that name is favourably spoken of by Camden. He, however, states that there were diversities of opinion, for a Norman poet had termed it 'a strange drink, so like the Stygian lake.'" The original Burton ale was, however, very different from that for which it is generally celebrated, for it was a strong drink, the India pale ale dating only from the present century. "In the year 1822, one Hodgson, a London brewer who had settled at Burton, brewed something like the present bitter ale, which he accomplished in a teapot in his counting-house, and called it 'Bombay beer.' A retired East India captain named Chapman improved on this, and Burton ale soon attained the celebrity that has made the names of Bass and Allsopp household words all over the world." The heads of each of these firms (now converted into limited companies) have mounted on steps of barrels to the peerage; but there are other firms of slightly younger standing though of hardly less importance.

One noteworthy fact in the later history of Burton is the liberality of these its leading citizens. Not a few of the principal public buildings--churches, schools, baths, and other institutions--are gifts from members of this or that firm; the latest is a suspension bridge for foot passengers over the Trent, at the southern end of the town, which is the gift of Lord Burton. Previous to this the river was only bridged in one place. At this spot a bridge has existed for several centuries; but the present structure is quite modern. It is far more commodious, but to the artist less attractive, than its predecessor. That was narrow, built on a curve, consisting of thirty-six arches, hardly any two of which were alike; this is wide, uniform, and strikes straight across the broad valley from bank to bank. Like most old bridges, the former had above its piers the usual nooks for the retreat of passengers, and few who remember it will not feel some regret at the change. But this was inevitable; the old bridge was totally inadequate for the needs of the new Burton, which had become a very different place from the little town pictured by Shaw at the end of the last century, and sentiment was obliged to yield to utility. As might be supposed, the old bridge, in early days, was the scene of more than one conflict.

But the history of Burton Town goes back earlier than that of Burton Bridge, even if this, as some have asserted, dated from the reign of William the Norman. Full a thousand years ago there dwelt at Bureton, or Buryton, a noted lady of Irish birth, Modwena by name, who, for curing Alfred, son of Ethelwolfe, of some disease, received a grant of land. Her home for some years was the island between the two branches of the Trent, and the well from which she had been wont to drink sympathetically retained healing virtues, being in repute, as Plot tells us, with those who suffered from the "king's evil." A monastery was afterwards founded by Ulfric Spot, Earl of Mercia, to which her body was translated, and which endured till the suppression of such institutions. The church which was attached to it has been rebuilt, and only some fragments of the conventual buildings remain about the house, which still bears the name of Burton Abbey.

The arms of the Trent unite below Burton, and the right bank of the river affords some varied and pleasant scenery, the ground sloping rapidly down to the level water-meadows, with scattered houses, hamlets, and groves of trees. A castellated mansion of pretentious aspect stands on the hill above fine old trees; beyond, on lower ground, embosomed in yet larger and not less ancient groves, is Newton Hall, near the village, called for distinction Newton Solney, which stands nearly opposite to the junction of the Dove with the Trent.

T. G. BONNEY.

THE HUMBER AND ITS TRIBUTARIES.