Our attention has been invited to the Beulah Spa by a _brochure_ lately
published, from the very competent pen of Dr. George Hume Weatherhead; the
details of which will be read with interest by all who are in quest of
"healing founts." "The Spa," observes Dr. Weatherhead, "has long been
resorted to by the country people of the neighbourhood, who, from
experiencing its beneficial effects in a variety of diseases, have
sustained its sanative character, and kept it from sinking into total
neglect." We trust, however, that its virtues may soon enjoy more
extensive celebrity, especially as the attractions of the scenery amidst
which the spring is situate are of no common-place character, and the
distance from the metropolis both easy and inviting. The Spa has already
acquired some popularity; for, we learned on our visit a few days since,
that, although it was only opened to the public towards the close of the
month of August, in the past year, it was visited during the autumn by
several hundred persons weekly.
Dr. Weatherhead has described the local scenery with accuracy. Beulah, the
estate upon which the spring is situate, is within the village of Norwood,
seven miles south of London, upon one of those elevations known as the
Norwood hills. "From trigonometrical observation," observes Dr.
Weatherhead, "it has been computed that the height of these hills is about
390 feet above the level of the sea at low water.[1] Thus placed above the
fogs of the plain, and removed from the smoky and contaminated atmosphere
of the metropolis, the air has long been celebrated for its pure and
invigorating qualities." Norwood was in the memory of several of the
inhabitants still living, an entire forest of oaks, and the well-known
resort of tribes of gipsies.[2] The country from Camberwell thence is,
therefore, in great part a newly-peopled district. Its outline is very
uneven, perhaps more so than any other portion of the environs of the
metropolis. The road runs over or through many little crests or hills, and
sinks into sheltered valleys, where you see newly-built habitations
nestling together, and almost reminding one of the aboriginal contrivances
for warmth and comfort in less civilized countries. The road-side is set
with "suburban villas" which would make the spleen of Cowper blaze into
madness; though few of them exhibit any pretensions to elegance or
snugness. Neither would two newly-built churches in the prospect allay the
anti-urban poet; their starved proportions contrasting but coldly with the
primitive simplicity of a village church. The _country_ itself is
nevertheless picturesque; the prospect is of enchanting beauty, and as
you approach Beulah, you obtain occasional glimpses of the subjacent
valley which you enjoy more at leisure and at a _coup d'oeil_ in the Spa
grounds.
The Spring lies embowered in a wood of oaks, open to the south-west whose
dense foliage shelters and protects it. It is now the sole vestige of the
gipsy haunts, and comprises a space of more than twenty-five acres; the
gentle inclination of the ground keeping the foot-paths always dry.
We entered the grounds at an elegant rustic lodge (_see the Cut_,) where
commences a new carriage-road[3] to Croydon; which winds round the flank
of the hill, and is protected by hanging woods. The lodge is in the best
taste of ornate rusticity, with the characteristic varieties of gable,
dripstone, portico, bay-window, and embellished chimney: of the latter
there are some specimens in the best style of our olden architects. This
building, as well as the other rural edifices in the grounds, and the
whole disposal of the latter, have been planned by Mr. Decimus Burton, the
originator of the architectural embellishments of the Zoological Gardens
in the Regent's Park.
Passing the lodge, we descended by a winding path through the wood to a
small lawn or glade, at the highest point of which is a circular rustic
building, used as a confectionery and reading-room; near which is the Spa,
within a thatched apartment. The spring rises about 14 feet, within a
circular rockwork enclosure; the water is drawn by a contrivance, at once
ingenious and novel; a glass urn-shaped pail, terminating with a cock of
the same material, and having a stout rim and cross-handle of silver, is
attached to a thick worsted rope, and let down into the spring by a pulley,
when the vessel being taken up full, the water is drawn off by the cock.
We quote Dr. Weatherhead's analytical description of the water:
"The water drawn fresh from the well is beautifully transparent and
sparkling. Innumerable bubbles of fixed air are seen rising to the surface,
when allowed to stand. Its taste is distinctly bitter, without being at
all disagreeable, leaving on the palate the peculiar flavour of its
predominant saline ingredient, the sulphate of magnesia. The temperature
of the water, at the bottom of the well, is 52 deg. of Fahrenheit; its
specific gravity 1011; and, by an analysis of its composition by those
distinguished scientific chemists, Messrs. Faraday and Hume, the following
are the solid contents of a quart of the water:--
BEULAH SALINE.
Sulphate of magnesia ............ 123
Sulphate of soda and magnesia .... 32
Muriate of soda .................. 19
Muriate of magnesia .............. 18-1/2
Carbonate of lime ................ 15
Carbonate of soda ................. 3
---
Grains 210-1/2
CHELTENHAM PURE SALINE.
Sulphate of magnesia ............. 22
Sulphate of soda ................. 30
Muriate of soda ..................100
Sulphate of lime .................. 9
---
Grains 161
"As a mean of comparison, the saline contents of a quart of the Cheltenham
pure saline, as analyzed by Mr. Brande, the predecessor of Mr. Faraday in
the professorship at the Royal Institution, is placed opposite to the
Beulah Spring, to enable the reader to judge how much superior, as an
aperient water, the latter is to that of Cheltenham. And, first, it may be
observed, that the gross amount of the several salts, in the same quantity
of the waters, is much greater in the Beulah than in the Cheltenham spring,
the difference being forty-nine grains and a half of solid saline matter
in a quart--that is, the impregnation is nearly one-third stronger; and,
secondly, the nature of the saline ingredients also merits observation.
One hundred grains out of one hundred and sixty-one, consist, as we see,
in the Cheltenham, of muriate of soda, or common table-salt. Now, this
substance, when perfectly freed from other salts adhering to it, possesses
comparatively very feeble aperient properties; whereas the mass of the
ingredients in the Beulah Spa is composed of two powerful saline
substances, the sulphate of magnesia, and that peculiar double salt, the
sulphate of soda and magnesia, constituting three-fourths of the whole
saline impregnation." [4]
The lawn is tastefully varied with parterres of plants; owing to the
lateness of the season, we saw but few near flowering, save
Daffodils,
That come before the swallow dares, and take
The winds of March with beauty, violets dim,
But sweeter than the lids of Juno's eyes,
Or Cytherea's breath.
A few yards from the lawn a rustic orchestra is in course of erection:
whence "the dulcet and harmonious sounds" of music may attune with the
joyful inspiration of the natural beauties of the scene. Our guide, (of a
more intelligent and communicative character than guides usually are,)
directed us by a descending path through the wood, across a rude bridge,
past a maze, by a flight of roughly-formed steps, to a terrace, whence we
enjoyed a picturesque prospect of great range and indescribable beauty.
The woods were as yet leafless, but primroses enlivened the pathside: how
touchingly is their solitude told by our poets. Shakspeare calls them
Pale primroses
That die unmarried ere they can behold
Bright Phoebus in his strength.
Milton describes them as dying forsaken:
Bring the rathe primrose that forsaken dies:
and Mayne calls this flower
Lorn tenant of the peaceful glade,
Emblem of virtue in the shade.
Dr. Weatherhead describes the prospect from this terrace with more
minuteness than the hazy state of the atmosphere enabled us to trace its
several beauties. The ancient archiepiscopal town of Croydon lies at your
feet; more remote, Banstead Downs spread a carpet of blooming verdure to
the sight; in the extreme distance Windsor Castle peers its majestic
towers above the mist; while elsewhere the utmost verge of the horizon is
bounded by the bold range of the Surrey and Hampshire hills. Turning to
the left you enjoy a view of Addiscombe Place, the seminary for cadets of
the East India Company; of Shirley, the sporting seat of John Maberly, Esq.
M.P.; of the Addington hills clothed with heaths; and of the park, the
seat of his Grace the Archbishop of Canterbury; when the prospect,
deepening in extent, stretches as far as Knockholt Beeches, near Seven
Oaks, and, winding round, comprehends the tall spire of Beckenham Church,
piercing through the dense woods which surround it; Shooter's Hill,
Blackheath, and the villages that intervene.
Immediately beneath you are the grounds of the Spa, every portion of which
can be distinctly traced from this spot: the lodge, lawn, refreshment-room,
spring, and orchestra, as we have described them, and the paths winding
among the woods till they disappear as it were in trackless solitude.
Dr. Weatherhead's pamphlet treats copiously, but in a popular style, of
the medicinal properties of the Spa. The terms for drinking the waters are
furnished at the lodge, where the visiter may smile at the remedy being
_set to music_, in the melodies of the Beulah Spring Quadrilles. It may
prevent some disappointment by stating that the Grounds are not opened to
the public on Sundays.
[1] By accurate observation the height of the fog, relatively with
the higher edifices, whose elevation is known, it has been
ascertained that the fogs of London never rise more than from
two hundred to two hundred and forty feet above the same level.
[2] Who does not remember the traditionary notoriety of Margaret
Finch?
[3] The private property of the estate, and attached to the Spa.
[4] We drank a half-pint tumbler of the water, which, as Dr.
Weatherhead observes, is bitter without being disagreeable.
Its flavour is that of Sulphate of Magnesia, or _Epsom Salts;_
and we should say that our _modicum_ might be imitated by
dissolving a dram of the above ingredient in half-a-pint of
pure water.
* * * * *