As the annual show of the New York State Agricultural Society is now
sure to bring fifteen to twenty thousand strangers into the place where
it may be held, to pass three or four days there, and spend their
money pretty freely, it has become quite an object with the different
towns situated on the great thoroughfares, to have the exhibitions
within their boundaries as often as possible. Strong movements will
be made for these hereafter; but we trust that the Society will weigh
well the different claims preferred for its favor, and that no other
consideration than the public good, and the spread of its influence,
will have weight in its decisions.
Albany, Syracuse, and Rochester, each having had the advantage of one
of these meetings, other towns now are soliciting the like favor; and
among those which are preferring their claims for the show of 1844,
we understand that Buffalo, Utica, and Poughkeepsie, are the most
prominent. Perhaps as the northern and western parts of the State have
now had the benefit of three of the exhibitions of the Society, it
is no more than fair that some attention be paid to the southern and
eastern portions. We have heard this city named as a very suitable
place for the show of next year, and the only objection we can
anticipate to it is, that it is an extreme end of the State. Granted;
and is not Buffalo the same? Yet, notwithstanding this, we contend that
New York or Buffalo is just as fairly entitled in their turn to one
of the exhibitions of the Society, as Albany, Syracuse, or Rochester.
However, as our own interests might be somewhat served by a meeting of
the State Society in this city, we shall waive advocating its claims
to one for the present, and content ourselves with stating those of
Poughkeepsie.
1. This town is 210 miles by the usual travelled route, northwest from
Montauk Point, the southeast end of the State. This is as great a
distance as from Poughkeepsie to Syracuse, and 41 miles further than
the railroad route, though a circuitous one, from Syracuse to Buffalo;
so that it may fairly be said to be the hither-end of a third-part of
the limits of the State.
2. The population, from Dutchess county, south and east, includes about
one fourth of that of the whole State.
3. Poughkeepsie is easy of access by land or water, and being situated
on the Hudson, hundreds of strangers from the neighboring States,
especially the southern ones, would visit a show here, when they could
hardly be induced to go farther north or west, and as these visiters
are always purchasers to a greater or less extent, it is quite an
object to get them to attend.
4. This town is the capital of one of the oldest, wealthiest, and
most populous counties of the State, and the one whose general system
of agriculture is probably more highly advanced than any other.
Dutchess, and the neighboring counties, have also considerable improved
stock--much more than we had any idea of till our recent excursions in
these parts. Durham, Devon, and Ayrshire cattle abound; superior road
and blood horses; Cotswold, Leicester, South Down, and numerous flocks
of Merino sheep; the products of the dairy; agricultural implements,
and roots, seeds, fruits, flowers, and domestic fabrics.
5. Poughkeepsie is ready at her own expense, to build pens for the
stock, and furnish all other needful accommodation for the Society,
which will be a saving of expense to it of at least $1,000.
Lastly, there is more accumulated wealth in the southern, than other
parts of the State, and the Society, by holding a fair proportion of
its shows in this quarter, will make itself many staunch friends, and
be introduced to thousands, who would otherwise be ignorant of its
great public merits. The Agricultural Society of the State of New York
is looked up to as an example throughout the country, and it should
be careful to avoid even the appearance of being partial or local in
its proceedings. The national societies of Great Britain and Ireland,
adopt the course of holding their shows in, not only the central, but
the extreme parts of the kingdom; and this is one great reason of their
popularity among all classes.
Tour in England. No. 15.
THINKING that our readers had become somewhat satiated with so
much upon foreign matters as have hitherto found place in this
journal, we had desisted for several months past, giving sketches
of the agriculture of England; but having recently received so many
solicitations to continue them, we again take up the subject, and shall
pursue it pretty regularly through the whole of our third volume,
if such seems to be the pleasure of a majority of our subscribers.
Perhaps, to these, we may also add sketches of some things we saw in
Russia, the recollections of which are very pleasant, at least to us,
yet whether we shall make them equally so in relating them to others,
remains to be seen.
CHATSWORTH, SEAT OF THE DUKE OF DEVONSHIRE.--In returning from
Yorkshire to London on the North Midland railroad, we stopped at
the Chesterfield station, for the purpose of making an excursion to
Chatsworth, to view the celebrated gardens and immense conservatory of
this superb place. It was a raw morning in August, and as we jumped
from a confined seat in the rail-coach, we were glad to be on our feet
once more, and have an opportunity of rousing our blood by a smart walk
from the station into the town. We stopped at the Angel inn, took a
hearty breakfast, and while waiting a gig being made ready to convey us
to Chatsworth, stepped out for a stroll over the place. Chesterfield
is a dingy old town, of about 6,000 inhabitants, and has little to
recommend it to the notice of strangers, save the spire of All Saints'
Church. This rises to the height of 230 feet, is curiously channeled,
and covered with lead, and is so much out of perpendicular, as to
attract marked attention in passing it, even when at a considerable
distance. It being market-day, the town was thronged with farmers from
the country, exposing stock and agricultural products in the square
for sale. There was little in these, however, deserving particular
attention, and after giving them a hasty look, we returned to the inn.
As we came up, a dapper waiter announced the "oss and gig as _h_all
ready;" when in we jumped, and set out for Chatsworth at a round pace,
distant, if we recollect right, about 8 miles.
Derbyshire possesses the wildest and most broken scenery of any county
in England, and after passing over the flat surface of Yorkshire, it
was quite a relief to find ourselves trotting up and down along a road
winding picturesquely around high hills, and over deep narrow dales. An
hour's drive or so, brought us to the pretty little village of Edensor,
close by the inn of which, is the entrance to Chatsworth. The village
is situated within the park, and is the property of the Duke, and
certainly it is the most charming one we ever saw. Every cottage is of
stone, and no two alike in their architecture. One is a mimic Gothic
castle; another a cottage ornèe; a third in the Elizabethan, a fourth
in the Swiss, and perhaps a fifth in the Tudor style. Everything then
was so complete about them--the pretty gardens full of flowers--the
hedges so neatly trimmed--the yards, laid down with the greenest and
softest of turf, and the shrubbery so tastefully planted! These were
the residences of the laborers on the estate, the possession of which
any one might envy them, and desire to be able to call his home.
Attached to the village is a fine old church, and around it an ample
yard, handsomely walled in with strong mason-work. Altogether, this
village is quite a gem in its way, and we were going to add, an epitome
of its owner's heart; for on all his estates, whether in England or
Ireland, the Duke of Devonshire has made it a point to protect and
bountifully provide for his people. There is no want, or suffering, or
seeking the poor-house, by the tenantry, allowed by this kind-hearted,
benevolent man.
Turning from Edensor, and ascending a mound-like hill to the left of
the carriage-road, the palace and the grounds of Chatsworth appear to
the greatest advantage. Immediately below is the river Derwent, tracing
its sparkling course through a rich vale, where were perhaps 1,500 deer
browsing or taking their gambols. A handsome stone bridge spans the
river, and just beyond, the ground rises in terraces to a narrow plain,
where stand the noble palace, with its out-buildings, and the immense
conservatory, in magnificent grandeur. Back of these rises a lofty
hill, the steep sides of which are thickly planted with forest-trees,
and the summit is crowned with a high tower of octagonal shape, built
of stone. We were received at the palace-gate by a servant in handsome
livery, and passing into the gallery of the court, a fine hearty girl
made her appearance to conduct us over the building. The front of the
palace is 350 feet, and one of the side wings about 400 feet long, and
this whole area contains a series of apartments called the drawing-room
suite. An entire number of this paper would hardly suffice to give
the reader a complete description of these magnificent rooms, and the
treasures of art they contain, we therefore pass them over in silence.
From these we strolled into the orangery, which is about 30 feet wide,
and 200 feet long. It is full of beautiful exotics, and among them
were several specimens of the Rhododendron Arboreum, which bore, the
preceding summer, over 2,000 flowers. We now walked out to the lawn
in front of the palace, where one of the under-gardeners appeared
to conduct us over the grounds. These are extremely beautiful, with
walled terraces in the Italian style, and fountains. One jet d'eau
throws up a column 90 feet high. But the great show here in the way
of water-works, is the cascade. It is entirely artificial, and must
have been made at a great expense. The water rushes out from a series
of lakes on top of the hill, and comes pouring down its side, taking
a leap of about 80 feet from one of the arches, and then falls for a
length of 300 yards over a series of 24 ledges, and disappears amidst
masses of rock, on the edge of the lawn. Here it finds a subterranean
passage to the river Derwent. These water-works are looked upon by some
critics with affected contempt; not so with us, however, we greatly
admired them in their way; and yet we have seen Niagara a thousand
times, and had a peep at most of the other water-falls worth looking
at in the United States. We have no sympathy with such hypercritics
as profess a distaste to the cascade at Chatsworth: as a work of art,
it is a magnificent thing, and to our eye, in keeping with the palace
and grounds; and we viewed it with interest. A bronze tree a little
farther on, excited still greater curiosity with us than the cascade,
for it was made to act the part of a fountain, by throwing water from a
thousand sprigs and leaves all around in a shower of spray.
But leaving this and the exquisite scenery of the lawn, we passed on by
a winding carriage-road to a short distance to the conservatory. This
was 350 feet long, 150 feet wide, and nearly 70 feet high; and when
fully completed, is to have an additional length of 150 feet. The roof
is an arch, and is covered with plate glass of the best kind, and so
thick as to resist the heaviest hail. It is heated by iron tubes of hot
water, and to these are added others for cold water, and the whole,
if stretched out to a single length, we were informed would extend
nearly six miles. The plants and trees here are distributed in open
borders, each class being placed in the soil most proper for it, and
the temperature so regulated as to suit their natural state as nearly
as possible. Not far from the centre is an immense rockery rising about
50 feet high, and from the fissures of the thick slabs of stone that
compose it, the cactus and other plants grow out as in their natural
state. Half way up this huge precipice is a little lake with islets,
and in this, water-lilies and other aquatic plants of the rarest and
most beautiful kinds. A wild goat path leads to the top of the rockery,
and beneath it is a wide, deep cave. The variety of shrubs and plants
in this immense conservatory is very great; some of the trees already
reach nearly to the top of the roof, and others presented dimensions
gigantic in the extreme for those within a green-house. There are wide
folding-doors at each end of the conservatory, and any time he pleases,
the Duke can have a drive with his coach and four horses through it.
Taking it altogether, it is by far the most magnificent thing of the
kind we have ever seen. The whole cost of it is not less than half
a million of dollars, which is but a little over the present annual
income of its wealthy possessor.
After leaving the conservatory, we took a zig-zag road, and ascended
through the forest to the crown of the hill by the octagonal tower.
A peasant family was residing here, who permitted us to ascend it to
the top. The view from this is no less extensive than beautiful, of
Chatsworth and the wild broken country around. Descending from this
high perch we had quite a chat with the peasant's wife. She informed
us that the tower was built by a predecessor of the present Duke, for
the purpose of giving the ladies at the palace an opportunity of seeing
the fox-hunting which formerly took place at Chatsworth. Upon taking
leave, the good woman directed a little rosy-faced daughter to show
us the lakes on the hill, the sources of the cascade and fountains
below. After something of a stroll through the woods, we found two
large expanses of water belted in by thick rows of the larch and fir,
and apparently as isolated as if in a wild forest of our own country.
The white swan and the black are kept here, and most other kinds of
curious water-fowl. Our pretty guide answered all our inquiries with
intelligence, and at parting we gave her a small guerdon, for which she
returned a grateful "thank'e zur" and a low courtesy, and then, with
the lightness of a young fawn, skipped into the woods, and immediately
disappeared. Descending the hill toward the palace we came to the
stables. These are very extensive, of quadrangular shape, and large
courtyards within. At a distance, with their imposing architecture,
they might almost pass for the palace itself.
We now bent our steps to the house of the celebrated Mr. Paxton, the
head gardener of the Duke of Devonshire, editor of the Magazine of
Botany which bears his name, and one of the first botanists of England.
His residence is within the park, about a quarter of a mile from the
palace, and is a roomy, beautiful cottage, completely enveloped in
flowers and flowering shrubbery, with a handsome little conservatory at
the end. Much to our regret, he was not at home; but a sub-gardener,
quite an intelligent man, volunteered to show us the gardens. They
occupy 12 acres, and are enclosed by a thick, brick wall, about twelve
feet high. Here are the experimental and kitchen gardens, and hundreds
of fruit-bearing espaliers, trained up the walls. In addition to these
there are forcing pits in abundance, and upward of 20 hot-houses, about
300 feet long each, devoted to different purposes, one of the most
extensive of which is the growing of pine apples. All these things may
be considered very extravagant, but in supporting them, the Duke of
Devonshire has done much for the cause of science, and has conferred a
lasting benefit on his country.
We left Chatsworth with regret; the day we spent there we would have
gladly prolonged to a week, and then we should have gained but an
imperfect knowledge of the treasures of nature and art which are stored
up here for the admiration of thousands of visiters. Mary Queen of
Scots was some time a prisoner here; so also was Marshal Tallard, who
was captured at the battle of Blenheim. What were the thoughts of the
beautiful Queen upon taking leave of it, history does not record; but
the Marshal, no less gracefully than happily, said: "When I return to
France and reckon up the days of my captivity in England, I shall leave
out all those I have spent at Chatsworth." And so thought we, pausing
on the mound-like hill again, as we retraced our steps to Edensor, and
cast a last lingering look upon the park, and palace, and forest hills
in the background, lit up by the clear, glorious sun just sinking
beneath the horizon.