Page:Traditional Tales of the English and Scottish Peasantry - 1887.djvu/285



presenting this somewhat rude but curious ballad to the reader, it may be proper to observe that those who profess to be charmed with truth only, and would wish one to swear to the certainty of a song, will learn with pleasure, perhaps, that tradition has recited, or sung, I know not which, this singular legend, for centuries, in the beautiful vale of Derwent, in Derbyshire. It is a tale current in the county. The projecting rock in Chatsworth wood, still bearing the name of the Shouter's Stone, is pointed out by the peasantry as the place on which this famous and successful outlaw stood and shouted. It overhangs a wild and winding footpath in the preserve, and in former times, before the wood became so luxuriant, commanded a fine view of the valley, in the midst of which stands Chatsworth House, the favourite mansion of the ancient and noble family of Cavendish. In the house itself, this tale has sought sanctuary. There is a painting from no less a hand than that of Prince Nicolas, in which a portion of the tradition is sought to be embodied; but the illustrious artist has, with poetical license, put a gilded horn in the outlaw's hand; and with a departure from the story, which all lovers of oral literature will deplore, has given to the cavern below a couple of outlaws, who rouse and bestir themselves to the sound of their leader's horn. The ancient oaks of Chatsworth are to be found everywhere in the valley; and, perhaps, no oaks in England, except those in Sherwood Forest, can claim to be their coevals—they are upwards of a thousand years old.

Chatsworth has many other attractions. The flower garden of the beautiful and unfortunate Queen of Scotland, a plat of earth elevated on a squat tower, and guarded with a fosse, stands on the banks of the Derwent, within a stone's-throw of the house. All around, the hills ascend and recede