In the bygones the "Brushes," briefly so designated, were almost as noted with the old Lancashire naturalists as Cotterill. The ravine so called, grey crags guarding the entrance, and a stream, with innumerable little mossy waterfalls descending from some undiscovered fount above, was renowned not more for its wild grandeur than for its botany and ornithology. Now it is only historical, the adaptation of the best part to the purposes of a waterworks company having effaced all the leading characteristics. The wheel-path remains much as it was, at least above the dam, and by pursuing this, a somewhat long ascent, we find ourselves once again upon the moors, here called "North Britain." Two courses present themselves now. One is to bend to the right, returning by way of Hollingworth; the other to strike off sharply to the left, and after a while, descend to the railway. The first-named supplies views of extraordinary breadth and changefulness, extending up and across the Tintwistle valley, and covering the hills above Dinting and Glossop; the Hollingworth reservoirs (supplementary to those of Woodhead, and well set-off with trees,) contributing in the best manner to the power of the landscape as a whole. The Holyngworthe family (for such is the ancient and proper spelling of the name) up to the time of the death of the last representative, had been seated here from times anterior to the Conquest, thus reminding one of the Traffords of Trafford Park. The hall, a quaint relic of the past, now tenanted by Mr. Broderick, is to a considerable extent, of temp. Henry VI. By taking the leftward path, over the heather, opportunity is acquired for mounting the lofty crest, said to have been once occupied by "Bucton Castle;" a fortress, to say the least of it, semi-fabulous, though there is no reason to doubt that in the Armada times, Bucton, like Alderley Edge, was used as a signalling station. In case of need, flames shooting up from the topmost peak, would be visible, on clear nights, at a distance of at least twenty miles.
Reference was made, a page or two back, to Seal Bark. For this we quit the line at Greenfield, first ascending past "Bin Green" to the "Moorcock," vulgarly "Bill's-o'-Jack's," from the heights around which the outlook over the adjacent country is once again marvellous. Very curious, too, and in itself well worth the climb, is the far-seen rock "Pots and Pans," well, if not elegantly, so named, for on drawing near it is discovered to be an immense mass of millstone-grit, left there since the glacial period, with about a dozen roundish cavities upon the top, the largest of them more than a yard across by about fifteen inches in depth, and nine of the group usually holding water. Local superstition, as would be expected, attributes these singular basins to the Druids, who are supposed to have excavated them for ritual purposes; but, as in other places--for such cavities are by no means confined to Greenfield--there can be no hesitation in regarding them as pure works of nature. Millstone-grit is, in parts, peculiarly inadhesive. Exposed as this rock has been for untold ages to the beating of tempests, its softer portions, where the cavities are, have been slowly fretted away, and we are asked to recall nothing more than the ancient proverb. Keeping to the road, by degrees the elevation becomes so great that the topmost part is playfully termed the "Isle of Skye." It is hereabouts that the cloudberry, that most artistic of northern fruits, never seen and unable to exist upon lower levels, is for our own neighbourhood, so plentiful. When ripe, so thick is the spread of rosy amber that the spectacle is most bright and pretty, the ground seeming strewed with white-heart cherries. Singular to say, although very nice to human palates, the grouse leave it untouched, turning to the whortleberry and the cranberry.