Doc Recap: Viscount Torrington's Account of Cromford

Coming from a family of illustrious soldiers, John Byng, the later 5th Viscount of Torrington, decided to add a sideline to his resume, that of a traveller and a diarist. He toured England in a time of breathtaking changes in landscape of the country courtesy of the Industrial Revolution. One of his entries described Cromford the facilities owned by the celebrated inventor and businessman Richard Arkwright.

John Byng by Ozias Humphrey, 1796

By two o’clock I was at he Black Dog at Cromford; around which is much levelling of ground, and increase of buildings for their new market, (for this place is now so populous as not to do without) which was already been once held, and will be again tomorrow.-This house, and village appear so clean, and so gay, as quite to revive me, after the dirt and dullness of Bakewell.-

I dare not, perhaps I shou’d not, repine at the increase of our trade, and (partial) population; yet speaking as a tourist, these valves have lost all their beauties; the rural cot has given place to the lofty red mill, and the grand houses of overseers; the stream perverted from its course by sluices, and aqueducts, will no longer ripple and cascade.- Every rural sound is sunk in the clamours of cotton works; and the simple peasant (for to be simple we must be sequester’d) is changed into the impudent mechanic:-the woods find their way into the canal; and th rocks are disfigured for lime stone.

So that the intention of retirement is much lost here; and the citizen or the tourist may soon seek in vain for quiet, and wild scenery:- for it will quickly become as noisy as Cashalton, or Merton in Surrey.

I well know that a peasantry maintain’d by their own ground, or by the cultivation of others ground, must abide; but a fear strikes me that this (our over stretch’d) commerce may meet a shock; and then what becomes of your rabble of artisans!! - The bold rock opposite this house is now disfigur’d by a row of new houses built under it; and the vales are every way block’d up by mills.

I saw the workers issue forth at 7 o’clock, a wonderful croud of young people, made as familiar as eternal intercourse can make them; a new set then goes in for the night, for the mills never leave off working.- Rocks, mills and water ‘in confusion hurled’.

The stabling here is good; but poor Blacky, my new horse, has a bad cough, and begins to day upon green meat, which we hope will cool his lungs. - My walks of to night were not extensive, for much is to be seen at hand: I soon return’d to tea; and, again early to supper.

The landlord has under his care a grand assortment of prizes, from Sr. R. Arkwright, to be given, at the years end, to such bakers, butchers, &c, as shall have best furnish’d the market: how this will be peaceably settled I cannot tell!! They consist of beds, presses, clocks, chairs, &c, and bespeak Sr. Rd’s prudence and cunning; for without ready provisions, his colony cou’d not prosper: so the clocks will go very well.

What the neighbouring market town of Wirksworth says to this, I have not heard.-- It might be hinted to Sr. Rd, that religion is a necessary as food; and that a chapel might have been built; but trade thought not of this.-- One of the worst things in small inns is the being obliged to hear the odious merriment and sad singings in the kitchen. These cotton mills, seven stories high, and fill’d with inhabitants, remind me of a first rate man of war; and when they are lighted up, on a dark night, look most luminously beautiful. – At ten o’clock, it set in for a wet night; as for T.B. he will not repine at confinement here, for I saw him to night, supping with the landlord and landlady, who have lately hired the inn.--

Last night, as the preceding one, was of continued rain; which began just as I was going to bed, and ended at 7 o’clock, when I arose: this is lucky for the tourist.-- After a grand dressing, (for now to my comfort, all my apparatu travells with me,) and a long breakfast, I took a short walk to look at the weather, and at Sr. Rd. A[rkwright]’s new house, (of which I spoke last year). The inside is now finishing; and it is really, within, and without, an effort of inconvenient ill taste; built so high as to overlook every beauty, and to catch every wind; the approach is dangerous; the ceilings are of gew-gaw fret work; the small circular stair-case, like some in the new built houses of Marybone, is so dark and narrow, that people cannot pass each other; I ask’d a workman if there was a library? – Yes, answer’d he, at the foot of the stairs. Its dimensions are 15 feet square; (a small counting house;) and having the perpendicular lime stone rock within 4 yards, it is too dark to read or write in without a candle! There is likewise a music room; this is upstairs, is 18 feet square, and will have a large organ in it: what a scheme! What confinement! At Clapham they can produce nothing equal to this, where ground is sold by the yard.--

As the weather was very low’rig, and the clouds hung upon the hills, I loung’d about in uncertainty; looking to the putting up of the stalls for their new market till it became necessary to speak about dinner.-- 

Upon the inn door, a paper, inscribed with these following verses, was pasted at the last market day: they were written by an old woman.

1

Come let us all here join in one,

And thank him for all favours done;

Let’s thank him for al favours still

Which he hath done besides the mill.

2

Modistly drink liquor about,

And see whose health you can find out;

This will I chuse before the rest

Sr. Richard Arkwright is the best.

3

A few more words I have to say

Success to Cromford’s market day 

It blew a storm the whole day; but never was the tranquility of Cromford vales disturb’d before this hour with the sound of a drum; for here were two recruiting parties striving to inveigle the happy industrious into idle miseries.

As Sr. Rd A – pays so much money, here, every week, of course he wishes it to be spent upon the spot; but then he shou’d procure a charter for the market.

The sight of the booths, of the country of people, and of the recruiters, was very diverting; sometimes I walk’d out amidst the stalls, and I expended 6 pence in oranges; two of whom I gave to a little white-headed thing like Frek.-- My dinner consisted of a good batter pudding, a leg of mutton, and a gooseberry pye. Then cou’d I no longer stay within; a wetting abroad were preferable to the drunken noise at home. —— 

See also:

Richard Arkwright

Source:

Andrews, C. Bruyn (ed.). The Torrington Diaries: A Selection from the Tous of the Hon. John Byng (later 5th Viscount Torrington) between the years 1781 and 1794. London: Eyre & Spottiswoode, 1954.