CHAPTER XXXII. CONSETT. Bird's-eye View of the District. —Scenery from the Park. —Progress of Consett.—Early Water Supply. There is a robustness about the Consett people which is very marked. The word "failure" is not in their vocabulary. They obtain whatever they seek. Their motto ought to be, Absque labor nihil (without labour nothing). Until recent years the Consett district was a terra incognita to most people, and there are thousands still who know it only by repute. Like Middlesbrough, its growth has been rapid, but, unlike many large industrial centres, its prosperity has been lasting. Fifty years ago it was a bleak hill-side. The view from its Park is one of surpassing grandeur and loveliness. What was once all ugliness and barrenness has been, by the expenditure of much money, transformed into a scene of fertile beauty. Those who have been absent from the place will look in vain for the famous "Blue Mountains" of Berry Edge. The heaps of scoria, the unsightly deposits from the town, the remains of the old Tin Mill Pit, all have disappeared, and in their place are serpentine walks and a wealth of shrubs and flowers. The Park faces the Derwent Vale, at an altitude of more than 850 ft. above the level of the sea, and commands a fine and extensive view of the surrounding country. Below it, and sheltered by its overhanging ridge of hills, lies the flourishing town of Blackhill, where not a house but one, that at Blackfine, existed half a century ago. Immediately opposite, and rising with a gradual ascent, are the Northumberland hills, graced here and there with a variety of woodland. In the far distant north, with their summits seemingly saluting the sky, are the Cheviots; while westward, as far as the eye can reach, the landscape is bounded by wild and rugged heather-clad hills, from which the pure mountain air is wafted as a deodorizer to the fumes from the gigantic Consett Iron Works. Beneath this chain of mountains the eye discovers the river Derwent winding its way through deep enchanting valleys, whose slopes are decorated with hanging woods and scattered enclosures. It is impossible, indeed, to conceive anything grander in nature than this diversified view of the Derwent as seen from the new park. It was from this promontory that Mr. Lax wrote his "Lines to the Derwent,'' whence Knoll, woodland, glen, and field In mingled beauty blaze.
