After having proceeded about a mile in Dove dale, the romantic and
sublime beauties of which will be hereafter noticed, by a route
constantly diversified by new fantastic forms, and uncouth combinations
of rock, the visitor is led to a mass of mural rock, bearing the above
name, and perforated by nature into a grand arch, nearly approaching to
the shape of the sharply pointed Gothic style of architecture, about
forty-five feet in hight, and in width twenty. Having passed through
this arch, a steep ascent leads to a natural cavern, called Reynard’s
Hall, forty-five feet in length, fifteen in breadth, and in hight
thirty. From the mouth of this cavern the scenery is singular, beautiful
and impressive. The face of the rock which contains the arch, rises
immediately in front, and would effectually prevent the eye from ranging
beyond its mighty barrier, did not its center open into the
above-mentioned arch, through which is seen a small part of the opposite
side of the dale, consisting of a mass of gloomy wood, from the shade of
which a huge detached rock, solitary, cragged, and pointed, starts out
to a great hight, and forms an object truly sublime. This rock, which
has received the name of Dove Dale Church, is pleasingly contrasted by
the little pastoral river, Dove, and by its verdant turfy banks. A
narrow opening at the extremity of the cavern is supposed to lead to
other similar cavities in the rock; and on the left is a cavern, about
forty feet in length, in breadth fourteen, and in hight twenty-six,
called Reynard’s Kitchen, from the interior of which a pleasing view is
presented of the upper part of the dale, its river and rocks.
After passing Reynard’s Hole, already described, the rocks rise more
abruptly on either side, and appear in shapes more wild and irregular,
but diversified and softened by shrubs.
Dove dale is nearly three miles in length; but from the sinuosity of its
course, and its projecting precipices, the views are limited. Throughout
the whole of this majestic feature of country, the river Dove flows, in
the halcyon days of summer, with soft murmurs, innocently and
transparently over its pebbly bed; but swells into rage during the
winter months. Little tufts of shrubs and underwood form islands in
miniature within its bed, which enlarge and swell the other objects. The
scenery of this dale is distinguished from almost every other in the
united kingdoms, by the rugged, dissimilar, and frequently grotesque and
fanciful appearance of the rocks. To employ the words of a tourist here,
“It is, perhaps, on the whole one of the most pleasing sceneries of the
kind anywhere to be met with. It has something peculiarly
characteristic. Its detached, perpendicular rocks stamp it with an image
entirely its own, and for that reason it affords the greater pleasure.
For it is in scenery as in life. We are most struck with the peculiarity
of an original character, provided there be nothing offensive