On this the good-natured and truly hospitable
man, of his own accord and without the least distrust, offered to
take me behind him on his horse and carry me to a neighbouring inn,
where he said I might stay all night.
The horse was a tall one, and I could not easily get up. The
turnpike-man, who appeared to be quite decrepid and infirm, on this
came out. I took it for granted, however, that he who appeared to
have hardly sufficient strength to support himself could not help
me. This poor looking, feeble old man, however, took hold of me
with one arm, and lifted me with a single jerk upon the horse so
quick and so alertly that it quite astonished me.
And now I trotted on with my charming farmer, who did not ask me one
single impertinent question, but set me down quietly at the inn, and
immediately rode away to his own village, which lay to the left.
This inn was called the Bear, and not improperly; for the landlord
went about and growled at his people just like a bear, so that at
first I expected no favourable reception. I endeavoured to gentle
him a little by asking for a mug of ale, and once or twice drinking
to him. This succeeded; he soon became so very civil and
conversable, that I began to think him quite a pleasant fellow.
This device I had learnt of the "Vicar of Wakefield," who always
made his hosts affable by inviting them to drink with him. It was
an expedient that suited me also in another point of view, as the
strong ale of England did not at all agree with me.
This innkeeper called me sir; and he made his people lay a separate
table for himself and me; for he said he could see plainly I was a
gentleman.
In our chat, we talked much of George the Second, who appeared to be
his favourite king, much more so than George the Third. And among
others things, we talked of the battle at Dettingen, of which he
knew many particulars. I was obliged also in my turn to tell him
stories of our great King of Prussia, and his numerous armies, and
also what sheep sold for in Prussia. After we had been thus talking
some time, chiefly on political matters, he all at once asked me if
I could blow the French horn? This he supposed I could do, only
because I came from Germany; for he said he remembered, when he was
a boy, a German had once stopped at the inn with his parents who
blew the French horn extremely well. He therefore fancied this was
a talent peculiar to the Germans.
I removed this error, and we resumed our political topics, while his
children and servants at some distance listened with great respect
to our conversation.
Thus I again spent a very agreeable evening; and when I had
breakfasted in the morning, my bill was not more than it had been at
Sutton. I at length reached the common before Derby on Friday
morning. The air was mild, and I seemed to feel myself uncommonly
cheerful and happy. About noon the romantic part of the country
began to open upon me. I came to a lofty eminence, where all at
once I saw a boundless prospect of hills before me, behind which
fresh hills seemed always to arise, and to be infinite.
The ground now seemed undulatory, and to rise and fall like waves;
when at the summit of the rise I seemed to be first raised aloft,
and had an extensive view all around me, and the next moment, when I
went down the hill, I lost it.
In the afternoon I saw Derby in the vale before me, and I was now an
hundred and twenty-six miles from London. Derby is but a small, and
not very considerable town. It was market-day when I got there, and
I was obliged to pass through a crowd of people: but there was here
no such odious curiosity, no offensive staring, as at Burton. At
this place too I took notice that I began to be always civilly bowed
to by the children of the villages through which I passed.
From Derby to the baths of Matlock, which is one of the most
romantic situations, it was still fifteen miles. On my way thither,
I came to a long and extensive village, which I believe was called
Duffield. They here at least did not show me into the kitchen, but
into the parlour; and I dined on cold victuals.
The prints and pictures which I have generally seen at these inns
are, I think, almost always prints of the royal family, oftentimes
in a group, where the king, as the father of the family, assembles
his children around him; or else I have found a map of London, and
not seldom the portrait of the King of Prussia; I have met with it
several times. You also sometimes see some of the droll prints of
Hogarth. The heat being now very great, I several times in this
village heard the commiserating exclamation of "Good God Almighty!"
by which the people expressed their pity for me, as being a poor
foot passenger.
At night I again stopped at an inn on the road, about five miles
from Matlock. I could easily have reached Matlock, but I wished
rather to reserve the first view of the country till the next day
than to get there when it was dark.
But I was not equally fortunate in this inn, as in the two former.
The kitchen was full of farmers, among whom I could not distinguish
the landlord, whose health I should otherwise immediately have
drank.
