U 
 
 3 
 
 13^0 
 
 CORNELL 
 
 UNIVERSITY 
 
 LIBRARY 
 
 THE 
 WORDSWORTH COLLECTION 
 
 FOUNDED BY 
 CYNTHIA MORGAN ST. JOHN 
 
 THE GIFT OF 
 VICTOR EMANUEL 
 
 OF THE CLASS OF I919 
 
% Cornell University 
 9 Library 
 
 The original of tiiis book is in 
 tine Cornell University Library. 
 
 There are no known copyright restrictions in 
 the United States on the use of the text. 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924103707703 
 
MARY OF BUTTERMERE. 
 
THE 
 
 ECHOES 
 
 OF THE 
 
 LAKES AND MOUNTAINS: 
 
 OR 
 
 WONDERFUL THINGS 
 
 IN THE 
 
 LAKE DISTRICT. 
 
 {Being a Companion to the Guides). 
 
 EMBRACING \ — 
 
 ANTIQUITIES — ROMANTIC LEGENDS — PHENOMENAL MARVELS — GRAVES 
 
 AND EPITAPHS — OPTICAL ILLUSIONS AND MARVELLOUS ECHOES — 
 
 PICTURESQUE SPOTS AND PLACES — ECCENTRIC CHARACTERS — 
 
 NEW AND OLD RECORDS AND ANECDOTES OF THE 
 
 ILLUSTRIOUS MEN AND VirOMEN WHO HAVE 
 
 MADE IT THEIR HOME, 
 
 WilH PORTRAIT OF ''MARY OF BUTTERMERE" AND VIEW OF THE 
 "FISH" INN, BUTTERMERE, 
 
 BY AN 
 
 "ANTIQUARIAN, GUIDE, PHILOSOPHER AND FRIEND" 
 
 " WHEN FOUND MAKE A NOTE ONT." 
 
 LONDON : 
 
 JAMES IVISON, 22, WARWICK LANE, E.G. 
 
 Lo 
 
:5 ^ 
 
 Wt3»^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 ^rif 
 
 J.i>J-/af/ 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 ALL the Counties of England are rich in interesting and 
 romantic incidents, but none so rich, rare, and varied 
 as those of Cumberland and Westmorland. The ' ' Wonderful 
 Things " unfolded in this little volume will amply bear out the 
 assertion. The only merit we claim is for the labour of our 
 research, and the bringing to light marvels that have existed 
 but have been hidden by the lapse of time. As Kingsley says 
 on the value of Books : — " There is nothing more wonderful 
 than a book ! — a message to us from the dead^ — from human 
 souls whom we never saw, yet who lived ; and yet these, in the 
 little sheets of paper, speak to us, amuse us, terrify us, teach us, 
 and comfort us." We hope this description of a book may be 
 applied to the one we now commend to the readers' attention. 
 Time has consecrated and age made gray the numerous 
 collection of the rare gleanings of our volume, and if the interest 
 inspire the reader as much as the gleaner of them, he will not 
 be content with the perusal of our collection, but enlarge his 
 acquaintance by a visit to the spots, places, and antiquities, that 
 have so much fascinated us. 
 
[v.] 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Abbots of Furness ... 65 
 
 Ancient Uses of Blacklead or Wad loi 
 
 Ben Wells, the Wonderful Dancing Master ... ... 84 
 
 Borrowdale Cuckoo, The ... .., 65 
 
 Borirowdale Eagle Stories 91 
 
 Bowder Stone, Borrowdale, The ... ... ... ... 61 
 
 Buttermere and Penny Postage ... ... 31 
 
 Cataract of Lodore, The ... 46 
 
 Celebration of Rushbearing at Grasmere Church, The ... 114 
 
 Christmas in Cumberland ... ... 78 
 
 Crosthwaite Church and Southey's Tomb ... ... ... 142 
 
 Cumberland Lasses at the Royal Agricultural Society's 
 
 Show, at Carlisle, in 1880 31 
 
 Cumberland Moss Troopers ... ... 81 
 
 Cushion Dance, The 89 
 
 Danger of Ascending Mountains in Winter 44 
 
 De Quincey 137 
 
[ vi. ] 
 
 Derwentwater 
 
 Dr Brown's Picturesque Description of Keswick ... 
 
 Druid's Circle, Keswick 
 
 Dunmail Raise 
 
 Echoes of the Lakes and Mountains 
 
 Engraver of the Rocks, The 
 
 Fox How, the Lake Residence of Dr. Arnold 
 
 Giant of Troutbeck Park, The 
 
 Giant's Grave, The 
 
 Graphic Description of a Stag Hunt in 1773 
 
 Great Bull Fight, A 
 
 Helvellyn 
 
 Hogarth's Father's House 
 
 Keswick or Derwentwater Regatta in the Olden Times 
 
 Lament of the Border Widow, The 
 
 Life of John Platfield, and his Marriage with Mary 
 Buttermere, The 
 
 Martineau's, Miss, Description of Professor Wilson 
 
 Mirage on Skiddaw, A 
 
 Modern Use of the Word "Lake" 
 
 " Mortal Man " Inn, The 
 
 Mountain Deluge, A 
 
 Mrs. Hemans' Home on Windermere 
 
 Old Cumberland Proverbs ... 
 
 Only Cumberland Martyr, The 
 
 Optical Illusions 
 
 Poet Gray's Beautiful Description of Grasmere, The 
 
 of 
 
[ vii. ] 
 
 Poet Shelley's Residence at the Lakes, The 
 
 Professor Wilson at Wastdale 
 
 " Punch " and the Poet Laureate — "Wordsworth . 
 
 Regatta on Derwentwater, 1782 
 
 Remains of Painted Glass in Bowness Church 
 
 Ride Over Skiddaw in 1794, A 
 
 Rocks of Lodore, The 
 
 Roman Remains 
 
 Romantic Tradition of Egremont Castle, A 
 
 Siege of Carlisle by " Bonnie Prince Charlie," The 
 
 Sir Walter Scott's Memorable Visit to the Lakes . 
 
 Skiddaw, Keswick ... ... ..." 
 
 Souther Fell — Its Phantom Army Mirage ... 
 
 St. Herbert and his Isle 
 
 Threlkeld Tarn 
 
 Threlkeld Hall, and the Castle Rock, Vale of St. John 
 
 Tourist and His Dog, The ... 
 
 Two Ancient Cumberland Ballads 
 
 Unfortunate Earl of Carlisle, An 
 
 What is a Mountain ? 
 
 Wonders of Saddleback, The 
 
 Wordsworth at Home 
 
 Woto Bank 
 
 Yew Trees 
 
 PAGE. 
 
 121 
 
 136 
 
 131 
 
 124 
 
 126 
 
 68 
 
 135 
 
 124 
 
 117 
 
 118 
 
 103 
 
 35 
 
 39 
 
 56 
 
 34 
 
 33 
 
 108 
 
 97 
 82 
 
 64 
 
 59 
 
 88 
 
 144 
 
 36 
 
THE LIFE 
 
 OF 
 
 JOHN HATFIELD, 
 
 COMMONLY CALLED 
 
 THE KESWICK IMPOSTOR ; 
 
 AND HIS MARRIAGE WITH 
 
 MARY OF BUTTERMERE. 
 
 THE subject of the following pages (who acquired 
 the appellation of the Keswick Impostor,) whose 
 extraordinary villainy excited universal hatred, was 
 born in the year 1759, at Mottram, in Longdendale, 
 Cheshire, of low parentage, but possessing great 
 natural abilities. His face was handsome, the shape 
 of which, in his youth, was oval, his person genteel, 
 his eyes blue, and his complexion fair. 
 
 After some domestic depredations (for in his early 
 days, he betrayed an iniquitous disposition), he 
 quitted his family, and was employed in the capacity 
 of a rider to a linen draper, in the north of England. 
 
 In the course of this service, he became acquainted 
 with a young woman, who was nursed and resided 
 at a farmer's house in the neiohbourhood of his 
 
2 JOHN HATFIELD AND 
 
 employer. She had been, in her earlier life, taught to 
 consider the people with whom she lived as her 
 parents. Remote from the gaities and follies of what 
 is so idly denominated polished life, she was un- 
 acquainted with the allurements of fashion, and 
 considered her domestic duties as the only object of 
 her consideration. When this deserving girl had 
 arrived at a certain age, the honest farmer explained 
 to her the secret of her birth ; he told her, that not- 
 withstanding she had always considered him as her 
 parent, he was in fact only her poor guardian, and 
 that she was the natural daughter of Lord Robert 
 Manners, who intended to give her one thousand 
 pounds, provided she married with his approbation. 
 
 This discovery soon reached the ears of Hatfield. 
 He immediately paid his respects at the farmer's, and 
 having represented himself as a young man of con- 
 siderable expectations in the wholesale linen business, 
 his visits were not discountenanced. The farmer, 
 however, thought it incumbent on him to acquaint 
 his lordship with a proposal made to him by Hatfield, 
 that he would marry the young woman if her relations 
 were satisfied with their union, but on no other terms. 
 This had so much the appearance of an honourable 
 and prudent intention, that his lordship, on being 
 made acquainted with the circumstances, desired to 
 see the lover. He accordingly paid his respects to 
 the noble and unsuspecting parent, who conceiving 
 the young man to be what he represented himself, 
 gave his consent at the first interview ; and, the day 
 after the marriage took place, presented the bride- 
 gi oom with a draft on his banker for ;^ 1,500. This 
 transaction took place about 1771 or 1772. 
 
 Shortly after the receipt of his lordship's bounty, 
 Hatfield set off for London ; hired a small phseton ; 
 was perpetually at a coffee-house in Covent-garden ; 
 described himself to whatever company he chanced 
 to meet as a near relation of the Rutland family ; 
 
MARY OF BUTTERMERE. 3 
 
 vaunted of his parks and hounds ; but as great liars 
 have seldom good memories he so varied in his 
 descriptive figures, that he acquired the soubriquet 
 c^ Lying Hatfield. 
 
 The marriage portion now exhausted, he retreated 
 from London and was scarcely heard of until about 
 the year 1782, when he again visited the metropolis, 
 having left his wife with three daughters she had 
 born to him, to depend on the precarious charity 
 of her relations. Happily she did not long survive : 
 and the author of her calamities, during his stay in 
 London, soon experienced calamity himself, having 
 been arrested, and committed to King's Bench prison 
 for a debt amounting to the sum of ;^i6o. Several 
 unfortunate gentlemen, then confined in the same 
 place, had been of his parties when he flourished in 
 Covent-garden, and perceiving him in great poverty, 
 frequently invited him to dinner ; yet such was the 
 unaccountable disposition of this man, that notwith- 
 standing he knew there were people present who were 
 thoroughly acquainted with his character, still he 
 would continue to describe his Yorkshire park, his 
 estate in Rutlandshire, settled upon his wife, and 
 generally wind up the whole with observing how 
 vexatious it was to be confined at the suit of a paltry 
 tradesman for so insignificant a sum, at the very 
 moment when he had thirty men employed in cutting 
 a piece of water near the family mansion in Yorkshire. 
 
 At the time Hatfield became a prisoner in the 
 King's Bench, the late unfortunate Valentine Morris, 
 formerly governor of the Island of St. Vincent, was 
 confined in the same place. This gentleman was 
 frequently visited by a clergyman of the most 
 benevolent and humane disposition. Hatfield soon 
 directed his attention to this good man, and one day 
 earnestly invited him to his chamber ; after some 
 preliminary apologies, he implored the worthy pastor 
 never to disclose what he was going to communicate. 
 
4 JOHN HATFIELD AND 
 
 The divine assured him the whole should remain in 
 his bosom. "Then" said Hatfield, "you see before 
 you a man nearly allied to the house of Rutland, and 
 possessed with estates (here followed the old story of 
 the Yorkshire Park, the Rutlandshire property, &c,, 
 &c. ;) yet notwithstanding all this wealth (continued 
 he), I am detained in this wretched place for the 
 insignificant sum of one hundred and sixty pounds. 
 But the truth is, Sir, I would not have my situation 
 known to any man in the world but my worthy relative, 
 his Grace of Rutland. Indeed I would rather remain 
 a captive for ever. But, Sir, if you would have the 
 goodness to pay your respects to this worthy nobleman, 
 and frankly describe how matters are, he will at once 
 send me the money by you, and this mighty business 
 will not only be instantly settled, but I shall have the 
 satisfaction of introducing you to a connection which 
 may be attended with happy consequences." 
 
 The honest clergyman readily undertook the com- 
 mission; paid his respects to the Duke, and pathetically 
 described the unfortunate situation of his amiable 
 relative. His Grace of Rutland, not recollecting at 
 the moment the name of Hatfield, expressed his 
 astonishment at the application. This reduced the 
 worthy divine to a very awkward situation, and he 
 faltered in his speech, when he began making an 
 apology ; which the Duke perceiving, he very kindly 
 observed, that he believed the whole was some idle 
 tale of an impostor, for that he never knew any person 
 of the name mentioned, although he had some faint 
 recollection of hearing Lord Robert, his relation, say 
 that he had married a natural daughter of his to a 
 tradesman in the north of England, and whose name 
 he believed was Hatfield, 
 
 The reverend missionary was so confounded that he 
 immediately retired and proceeded to the prison, 
 where he gave the impostor, in presence of Mr. Morris, 
 a most severe lecture. But the appearance of this 
 
MARY OF BUTTERMERE. 5 
 
 verxcrable man, as his friend, had the effect which 
 Hatfield expected; for the Duke sent to enquire if he 
 was the man who married the natural daughter of 
 Lord Robert Manners, and being satisfied as to the 
 fact, dispatched a messenger with ^^200 and had him 
 released. 
 
 In the year 1784 or 1785, his Grace of Rutland was 
 appointed Lord Lieutenant of Ireland, and shortly 
 after his arrival in Dublin, Hatfield made his appear- 
 ance in that city. He, immediately on his landing, 
 engaged a suite of rooms at an hotel in College-green, 
 and represented himself as nearly allied to the Viceroy, 
 but that he could not appear at the castle until his 
 horses, servants, and carriages arrived, which he 
 ordered, before leaving England, to be shipped at 
 Liverpool, The easy and familiar manner in which 
 he addressed the master of the hotel, perfectly satisfied 
 him that he had a man of consequence in the house, 
 and matters were arranged accordingly. This being 
 adjusted, Hatfield soon found his way to Lucas's 
 Coffee-house, a place where people of a certain rank 
 generally frequented ; and, it being a new scene, the 
 Yorkshire park, the Rutlandshire estate, and the con- 
 nection with the Rutland family, stood their ground 
 very well for a month. 
 
 At the expiration of that term, the bill at the hotel 
 amounted to sixty pounds and upwards. The landlord 
 became importunate, and after expressing his astonish- 
 ment at the non-arrival of Mr. Hatfield's domestics, 
 &c., requested that he might be permitted to send in 
 his bill. This did not in the least confuse Hatfield : 
 he immediately told the master of the hotel that very 
 fortunately his agent, who received the rents of his 
 estates in the north of England, was then in Ireland, 
 and held a public appointment ; he lamented that his 
 agent was not then in Dublin ; but he had the pleasure 
 to know his stay in the country would not exceed 
 three days. This satisfied the landlord, and at the 
 
O JOHN HATFIELD AND 
 
 expiration of the three days, he called upon the gentle- 
 man, whose name Hatfield had given him, and 
 presented the account. Here followed another scene 
 of confusion and surprise. The supposed agent of 
 the Yorkshire estate very frankly told the man who 
 delivered the bill that he had no other knowledge ot 
 the person who sent him than what common report 
 furnished him with, that his general character m 
 London was that of a romantic simpleton, whose 
 plausibilities had imposed on several people, and 
 plunged himself into repeated difficulties. 
 
 The landlord retired highly thankful for the 
 information, and immediately arrested his guest, who 
 was lodged in the prison of the Marshalsea. Hatfield 
 had scarcely seated himself in his new lodgings, when 
 he visited the gaoler's wife in her apartment, and in a 
 whisper requested her not to tell any person that she 
 had in her custody a near relation of the then Viceroy. 
 The woman, astonished at the discovery, immediately 
 showed him into the best apartment in the prison, had 
 a table provided, and she, her husband, and Hatfield, 
 constantly dined together for nearly three weeks, in 
 the utmost harmony and good humour. 
 
 During this time he had petitioned the Duke for 
 another supply, who, apprehensive that the fellow 
 might continue his impositions in Dublin, released him 
 on condition of his immediately quitting Ireland ; and 
 his Grace sent a servant, who conducted him on board 
 the packet that sailed the next tide for Plolyhead. 
 
 In 1792 he went to Scarborough, introduced him- 
 self to the acquaintance of several persons of dis- 
 tinction in that neighbourhood, and insinuated that he 
 was, by the interest of the Duke of Rutland, soon to 
 be one of the representatives in parliament for the 
 town of Scarborough. After several weeks stay at the 
 principal inn in Scarborough, his imposture was 
 detected by his inability to pay the bill. Soon aiter 
 his aruval in London he was arrested for this debt,. 
 
MARY OF BUTTERMERE. ^ 
 
 and thrown into prison. He had been eight years 
 and a half in confinement, when a Miss Nation, of 
 Devonshire, to whom he had become known, paid his 
 debts, took him from prison, and gave him her hand 
 in marriage. 
 
 Soon after he was hberated, he had the good fortune 
 to prevail with some highly respectable merchants in 
 Devonshire, to take him into partnership with them ! 
 and with a clergyman to accept his drafts to a large 
 amount. He made upon this foundation a splendid 
 appearance in London, and, before the general election, 
 even proceeded to canvass the rotten borough of 
 Queenborough. Suspicions m the meantime arose in 
 regard to his character and the state of his fortune. 
 He retired from the indignation of his creditors, and 
 was declared a bankrupt in order to bring his villainies 
 to light. Thus, having left behind his second wife and 
 two infant children at Tiverton, he visited other 
 places; and, at length, in July, 1802, arrived 
 at the Queen's Head, now the Queen's Hotel, 
 in Keswick, in a handsome and well-appointed 
 travelling carriage, but without any servant, where he 
 assumed the name of the Honourable Alexander 
 Augustus Hope, brother of the Earl of Hopetoun, and 
 member for Linlithgow. From Keswick, as his head 
 quarters, he made excursions in every direction 
 amongst the neighbouring valleys ; meeting generally 
 a good deal of respect and attention, partly on account 
 of his handsome equipage, and still more from his 
 visiting cards, which designated him as *'The Honour- 
 able Alexander Augustus Hope." Some persons had 
 discernment enough to doubt this : for his breeding 
 and deportment, though showy, had a tinge of vulgarity 
 about it ; he was grossly ungrammatical in his ordinary 
 conversation. He received letters under this assumed 
 name — //z^/ might be through collusion with accom- 
 plices — but he himself continually fratikid letters by 
 that name. Now, that being a capital offence, being 
 
8 ' JOHN HATFIELD AND 
 
 not only a forgery, but (as a forgery on the post-office), 
 sure to be prosecuted, nobody presumed to question 
 his pretensions any longer; and, henceforward, he 
 went to all places with the consideration attached 
 to an earl's brother. All doors flew open at his 
 approach ; boats, boatmen, nets, and the most un- 
 limited sporting privileges, were placed at the disposal 
 of the " Honourable " gentleman ; and the hospitality 
 of the whole country taxed itself to offer a suitable 
 reception to the patrician Scotsman. 
 
 Nine miles from Keswick, by the nearest route, lies 
 the lake of Buttermere. Its margin, which is over- 
 hung by some of the loftiest and steepest of Cumbrian 
 mountains, exhibited on either side few traces of human 
 neighbourhood ; the level area, where the hills recede 
 enough to allow of any, is of a wild pastoral character, 
 or almost savage ; the waters of the lake are deep and 
 sullen ; and the mountain barriers, by excluding the 
 sun from muchof its daily course, strengthen thegloomy 
 impressions. At the foot of this lake (that is at the 
 end where its waters issue), lie a few unornamented 
 fields, through which rolls a little brook-like river, 
 connecting it with the larger lake of Crummock , and 
 at the edge of this little domain, upon the roadside, 
 stands a cluster of cottages, so small and few, that, in 
 the richer tracts of the islands, they would scarcely be 
 complimented with the name of hamlet. One of 
 these, the principal, belonged to an independent 
 proprietor, called in the local dialect a '"Statesman ;" 
 and more, perhaps, for the sake of gathering any little 
 local news, than with much view to pecuniary profit 
 at that era, this cottage offered the accommodations 
 of an inn to traveller and his horse. Rare, however, 
 must have been the mounted traveller in those days, 
 unless visiting Buttermere for itself, for the road led to 
 no further habitations of man, with the exception of 
 one or two pastoral cabins, equally humble, in Gates- 
 garth, siluated at the head of Buttermere lake. 
 
MARY OF BUTTERMKRE. q 
 
 Hither, however, in an evil hour for the peace of 
 this Httle brotherhood of shepherds, came the cruel 
 spoiler from Keswick, and directed his steps to the 
 once happy cottage of poor Mary, the daughter of Mr. 
 and Mrs. Robinson, an old couple, who kept the Fish 
 inn, and had by their industry gained a little property. 
 She was their only daughter, and probably her name 
 had never been known to the public, but for the account 
 given of her by the author of " A Fortnight's Ramble 
 lo the Lakes in Westmorland, Lancashire, and 
 Cumberland." His errand was to witness or share in 
 char-fishing : for in Derwentwater (the lake at Keswick) 
 no char is found, which breeds only in deep v/aters, 
 such as Windermere, Crummock, Buttermere, &c. 
 He now became acquainted with an Irish gentleman, 
 and member of the then Irish parliament, who had 
 been resident with his family some months at Keswick. 
 With this gentleman, and under his immediate pro- 
 tection, there was likewise a young lady of family and 
 fortune, and of great personal attractions. One o. the 
 means which Hatfield used to introduce himself to 
 this respectable family was the following ; Under- 
 standing that the gentleman had been a military man, 
 he took an army list from his pocket, and pointed to 
 his assumed name, the Honourable Alexander Augustus 
 Hope, lieutenant-colonel of the 14th regiment of foot. 
 This new acquaintance daily gained strength ; and he 
 shortly paid his addresses to the fair ward of the above 
 gentleman, and obtained her consent. The wedding 
 clothes were bought ; but previous to the wedding-day 
 being fixed, she insisted that the pretended Colonel 
 Hope should introduce the subject formally to her 
 friends. He now pretended to write letters, and while 
 waiting for the answers, proposed to employ that time 
 in a trip to Lord Hopetoun's seat, &c. 
 
 From this time he played a double game ; his visits 
 to Keswick became frequent, and his suit to the young 
 lady assiduous and fervent. Still, however, both at 
 
lO JOHN HATFIELD AND 
 
 Keswick and Butterniere, he was somewhat shy ot 
 appearing in public. " He was sure to be engaged in a 
 fishing expedition on the day on which any company 
 was expected at the pubHc-house at Buttermere ; and 
 he never attended the church at Keswick but once. 
 
 Finding his schemes baffled to obtain this young 
 lady and her fortune, he now applied himself wholly 
 to gain possession of Mary Robinson, who was a fine 
 young woman of eighteen, and acted in the capacity 
 of waiter. In a situation so solitary, the stranger had 
 unlimited facilities for enjoying her company, and 
 recommending himself to her favour. Among the 
 neighbours he made the most minute enquiries into 
 every circumstance relating to her and her family. 
 Doubts about his pretensions never arose in so retired 
 a place as this ; they were over-ruled before they could 
 well have arisen, by the opinion now general in 
 Keswick, that he really was what he pretended to be : 
 and thus with little demur, except in the shape of a 
 few natural words of parting anger from a defeated or 
 rejected rustic admirer, the young woman gave her 
 hand in marriage to the showy and unprincipled 
 stranger. He, in company with the clergyman, pro- 
 cured a license on the ist of October, and they were 
 publicly married in the church of Lorton, on Saturday 
 the 2nd of October, 1802. A romantic account of it 
 found its way almost immediately into the news- 
 papers. It thus fell under the notice of various 
 individuals in Scotland, who knew that Colonel Hope, 
 who was said to have married the Flower of Buttermere, 
 had been abroad the whole summer, and was now 
 residing in Vienna, Mr. Charles Hope, then Lord 
 Justice Clerk, afterwards president of the Court of 
 Session, (a son-in-law of the Earl of Hopetoun), had^ 
 it is believed, a chief share in making this fact known, 
 and promoting the inquiries which led to the detection 
 of the imposture. 
 
 On the day previous to his marriage, he wrote to 
 
MARY OF BUTTZRMERE. II 
 
 Mr. N. M. More, informing him that he was under the 
 necessity of being absent for ten days on a journey 
 mto Scotland, and sent him a draft for thirty pounds, 
 drawn on Mr. Crump, of Liverpool, desired him to 
 cash it, and pay some small debts in Keswick with it, 
 and send him over the balance, as he feared he might 
 be short of cash on the road. This Mr. More 
 immediately did, and sent him ten guineas in addition 
 tothebalance. On the Saturday, Mr.Wood.thelan.dlord 
 of the Queen's Head, returned from Lorton with ^he 
 intelligence that Colonel Hope had married tlie Beauty 
 of Buttermere. As it was clear, whoever he was, that 
 he had acted unworthily and dishonourably, Mr. 
 More's suspicions were of course awakened. He 
 mstantly remitted the draft to Mr. Crump, who 
 immediately accepted it. As the friend of the young 
 lady, whom he (Hatfield) first paid his addresses to, 
 he wrote to the Earl of Hopetoun. Before the answer 
 arrived, the pretended honourable returned with his 
 wife to Buttermere. He went only as far as Long- 
 town, when he received two letters, seemed much 
 troubled that some friends whom he had expected had 
 not arrived there, stayed three days, and then told his 
 wu'e that he would go back again to Buttermere. 
 From this she was seized with fears and suspicions. 
 They returned, however, and their return was made 
 known at Keswick. The late Mr. Harding, the 
 barrister, and a Welch judge, a very singular man, 
 passing through Keswick, heard of this impostor, and 
 sent his servant over to Buttermere with a note to the 
 supposed Colonel Hope, who observed, " that it was 
 a mistake, and that it was for a brother of his." 
 However, he sent for four horses, and came over to 
 Keswick •. drew another draft upon Mr. Crump, tor 
 twenty pounds, which the landlord ot the Queen's 
 Head had the courage to cash. Oi this sum he 
 immediately sent the ten guineas to Mr. More, who 
 came and introduced him to the judge as his old 
 
12 JOHN HATFIELD AND 
 
 friend Colonel Hope. But he made a blank denial 
 that he had ever assumed the name. He had said 
 that his name was Hope, but not that he was the 
 honourable member for Linlithgow, &c., &c. ; and one 
 who had been his frequent intimate at Buttermere 
 gave evidence to the same purpose. 
 
 In spite, however, of his impudent assertions, and 
 those of his associate, the evidence against him was 
 decisive. A warrant was issued by Sir Frederick 
 Vane, of Armathwaite Hall, Basenthwaite Lake, on 
 the clear proof of his having forged and received 
 several franks as the member for Linlithgow, and he 
 was committed to the care of a constable, but allowed 
 to fish on the lake. Having, however, found means 
 to escape, he was conducted by a guide belonging to 
 Keswick, named Edward Birkett, through the vale of 
 Borrowdale, over the pass of Sty-head to Wastdale, and 
 thence to Ravenglass, where he took refuge and lay 
 concealed for a few days on board a sloop, and then 
 went in the coach to Ulverston, and was afterwards 
 seen at an hotel in Chester. In the meantime the 
 following advertisement, setting forth his person and 
 manners, appeared in the papers : — 
 
 "NOTORIOUS IMPOSTOR, SWINDLER, AND 
 FELON ! 
 "John Hatfield, who lately married a young woman, com- 
 monly called the Beauty of Buttermere, under an assumed 
 name; height about five feet ten inches, aged about forty-four, 
 full face, bright eyes, thick eye brows ; strong, but light beard, 
 good complexion, with some colour; thick, but not very promi- 
 nent nose, smiling countenance, fine teeth, a scar on one of his 
 cheeks near the chin, very long thick light hair, and a great deal 
 of it grey done up in a club ; stiff square shouldered, full breast 
 and chest, rather corpulent, and strong limbed, but very active ; 
 and has rather a spring in his gait, with apparently a little hitch 
 in bringing up one leg ; the two middle fingers of his left hand 
 are stiff from an old wound ; he has something of the Irish 
 brogue in his speech ; fluent and elegant in his language, great 
 command of words, frequently puts his hand to his heart ; very 
 fond of compliments, and generally addressing himself to persons 
 most distinguished by rank and situation ; attentive in the 
 
MARY OF BUTTERMERE. 13: 
 
 extreme to females, and likely to insinuate himself where there 
 are young ladies. He was in America during the war ; is fond 
 of talking of his wounds and exploits there, and of military 
 subjects, as well as Hatfield Hall, and his estates in Derbyshire 
 and Cheshire ; and of the antiquity of his family, whom he 
 pretends to trace to the Plantagenets. He makes a boast of 
 having often been engaged in duels ; he has been a great 
 traveller also, by his own account, and talks of Egypt, Turkey, 
 and Italy ; and in short has a general knowledge of subjects, 
 which, together with his engaging manners, is well calculated to 
 impose upon the credulous. He had art enough to connect 
 himself with some very respectable merchants in Devonshire, as 
 a partner in business, but having sv/indled them out of large 
 sums, he was made a separate bankrupt in June, 1802. He 
 cloaks his deception under the mask of religion, appears fond of 
 religious conversation, and makes a point of attending divine 
 service and popular preachers." 
 
 Besides blighting the prospects of the poor girl, he 
 had nearly ruined her father by running up a debt of 
 eighteen pounds. His dressing case, a very elegant 
 piece of furniture, was left behind, and on being 
 opened at Keswick by warrant of a magistrate, was 
 found to contain every article that the most luxurious 
 gendeman could desire, but no papers tending to 
 discover his real name. Afterwards, Mary herself, 
 searching more narrowly, discovered that the box had 
 a double bottom, and in the intermediate recess 
 found a number of letters addressed to him by his 
 wife and childre?2, under the name of Hatfield. The 
 story of the detection immediately became as notorious 
 as the marriage had been. 
 
 Though he was personally known in Chester to 
 many of the inhabitants, yet this specious hypocrite 
 had so artfully disguised himself, that he quitted the 
 town without any suspicions before the Bow-street 
 officers reached that place in quest of him. He was 
 then traced to Brielth in Brecknockshire, and was at 
 length apprehended about sixteen miles from Swansea, 
 and committed to Brecon gaol. He had a cravat on 
 with his initials, J. H., which he attempted to account 
 for by calling himself John Henry, 
 
14 JOHN HATFIELD AND 
 
 Before the magistrates he declared himself to be 
 Ludor Henry ; and in order to prepossess the honest 
 Cambrians in his favour, boasted that he was descended 
 from an ancient family in Wales, for the inhabitants 
 of which country he had ever entertained a sincere 
 regard. He was, however, conveyed up to town by 
 the Bow-street officers, where he was examined on his 
 arrival before the magistrates. The solicitor for his 
 bankruptcy attended to identify his person, and stated 
 that the commission of bankruptcy was issued against 
 Hatfield in June, 1802 ; that he attended the last 
 meeting of the commissioners, but the prisoner did not 
 appear, although due notice had been given in the 
 Gazette, and he himself had given notice to the 
 prisoner's wife, at Wakefield, near Tiverton, Devon. 
 Mr. Parkyn, the solicitor to the post-office, produced 
 a warrant from Sir Frederick Vane, bart., a magistrate 
 for the county of Cumberland, against the prisoner, 
 by the name of the Hon. Alexander Augustus Hope, 
 charging him with felony, by pretending to be a mem- 
 ber of parliament of the United Kingdom, and franking 
 several letters by the name of A. Hope, to several 
 persons, which were put into the post-office at Kes- 
 wick, in Cumberland, in order to evade the duties of 
 postage. Another charge of forgery, and the charge 
 for bigamy, were explained to him, but not entered 
 into, as he was committed for trial on these charges to 
 the next assizes at Carlisle. He conducted himself 
 with the greatest propriety during his journey to town, 
 and on his examinations ; but said nothing more than 
 answering a few questions put to him by Sir Richard 
 Ford and the solicitors, affecting to consider himself a 
 persecuted individual, and representing in particular, 
 that, in the alliance with Mary Robinson, he had been 
 rather sinned against than sinning, 'Mary, on the 
 other hand, who was now announced to be likely to 
 bear a child to her pretended husband, refused to 
 become accessory to his prosecution. The utmost 
 
kTARY OF BUTTERMERE. T^ 
 
 she could be prevailed on to do against Hatfield was 
 to address the following letter to Sir Richard Ford : — 
 
 " The man whom I had the misfortune to marry, and who 
 has ruined me and my aged parents, always told me he was 
 the Hon. Colonel Hope, the next brother of the Earl of 
 Hopetoun. 
 
 Your grateful and unfortunate servant, 
 
 Mary Robinson." 
 
 At the fourth examination of the impostor, on the 
 27th of December, this letter was read aloud by the 
 clerk, in the open court. To quote from a chronicle 
 of the time — " The simplicity of this letter, which, 
 though it breathes the soft murmur of complaint, is 
 free from all virulence, excited in the breast of every 
 person present an emotion of pity and respect for the 
 unmerited sorrows of a female, who has in this whole 
 matter manifested a delicacy of sentiment and noble- 
 ness of mind infinitely beyond her sphere of education. 
 The feelings of Hatfield could not be enviable ; yet 
 he exhibited no symptom of contrition, and when 
 remanded for further examination, retired with the 
 most impenetrable composure." 
 
 He was then dressed in a black coat and waistcoat, 
 fustian breeches, and boots, and wore his hair tied 
 behind without powder. His appearance was respect- 
 able, though quite en deshabille. The Duke of 
 Cumberland, and several other gentlemen, were present 
 at his examination ; in the course of which the 
 following letter was produced : — 
 
 "Buttermere, Oct. i, 1802. 
 Dear Sir, 
 " I have this day received Mr. Firkman's kind letter from 
 Manchester, promising me the happiness of seeing you both in 
 about ten days, which will indeed give me great pleasure ; and 
 you can, too, Ise of very valuable service to me at this place, 
 particulars of which when we meet, though I shall probably 
 write to you again in a few days — the chief purpose for which I 
 write this is to desire you will be so good as to accept a bill for 
 me, dated Buttermere, the 1st of October, at ten days, and I 
 will cither give you cash for it here, or remit to you in time, 
 
1 6 JOHN HATFIELD AND 
 
 which ever way you please to say. It is drawn in favour of 
 Nathaniel Montgomery More, Esq. Be pleased to present my 
 best respects to your lady ; and say I hope, ere the winter 
 elapses, to pay her my personal respects ; for if you will manage 
 so as to pass a little time with me in Scotland, I will promise to 
 make Liverpool in my way to London. 
 
 " With the truest esteem, 
 
 " I am, dear sir, yours ever, 
 
 "A. HOPE." 
 "Keswick, October the ist, 1802. 
 John Crumpt, Esq. Liverpool. 
 Free, A. Hope." 
 
 This letter, it was proved, passed free of postage. 
 Another letter was also produced from his wife at 
 Tiverton, and a certificate of his marriage with Mary 
 of Buttermere. His trial came on August 15th, 1803, 
 at the Assizes for Cumberland, before the Honourable 
 Alexander Thompson, Knt. He stood charged upon 
 the three following indictments : 
 
 1. With having assumed the name and title of the 
 Honourable Alexander Augustus Hope, and pretending 
 to be a member of parliament of the United Kingdom 
 of Great Britain and Ireland, and with having, about 
 the month of October last, under such false and 
 fictitious name and character, drawn a draft or bill of 
 exchange, in the name ol Alexander Hope, upon John 
 Crumpt, Esq., for the sum of ;^2o, payable to George 
 Wood, of Keswick, Cumberland, innkeeper, or order, 
 at the end of fourteen days from the date of the said 
 draft or bill of exchange. 
 
 2. With making, uttering, and publishing as true, a 
 certain false, forged, and counterfeit bill of exchange, 
 with the name of Alexander Augustus Hope there unto 
 falsely set and subscribed, drawn upon John Crumpt, 
 Esq., dated the ist of October, 1802, and payable to 
 Nathaniel Montgomery More, or order, ten days after 
 date, for ;£t^o sterling. 
 
 3. With having assumed the name of Alexander 
 Hope, and pretending to be a member of parliament 
 of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland, 
 
MARY OF EUTTERMERF, 1 7 
 
 the brother of the right Hon. Lord Hopetoun, and a 
 Colonel in the army ; and under such false and 
 fictitious name and character, at various times in the 
 month of October, 1802, having forged and counter- 
 feited the hand-writing of the said Alexander Hope, in 
 the superscription of certain letters or packets, in order 
 to avoid the payment of tlie duty on postage. 
 
 The prisoner pleaded not guilty to these charges. 
 
 The three several indictments having been read, 
 Mr. Scarlett, afterwards Lord Abinger, opened the. 
 case in an address to the jury, and gave an ample 
 detail of the prisoner's guilt. 
 
 In support of what he had advanced, he called Mr. 
 Quick, who was clerk in the house at Tiverton where 
 Hatfield was partner, who swore to his hand-writing. 
 
 The Rev. Mr. Nicholson swore that when the 
 prisoner was asked his name, he said it was a most 
 comfortable one, Hope. The other witnesses were 
 Mr. Joseph Skelton, of Rockliffe, Cumberland ; Mr. 
 George Wood, of Keswick, innkeeper , John Gregory 
 Crumpt, and Colonel Parke, who were vv'ell acquainted 
 with the real Colonel Hope. 
 
 The evidence for the prosecution having closed, the 
 prisoner then addressed himself to the jury. He said 
 he felt some degree of satisfaction in being able to 
 have his sufferings terminated, as they must of course 
 be by their verdict. For the space or nine months he 
 had been dragged from prison to prison, and torn 
 trom place to place, subject to all the misrepresenta- 
 tions of calumny. " Whatever will be my fate," said 
 he, "I am content; it is the award Oi justice, impartially 
 and virtuously administered. But I will solemnly 
 declare, that in all my transactions, 1 never intended 
 to defraud or injure the persons whose names have 
 appeared in the prosecution. This I will maintain to 
 the last of my life." 
 
 The prisoner called in his defence Newton, 
 
 attorney, at Chester ; who said he was employed by 
 c 
 
iS JOHN HATFIELD AND 
 
 the prisoner at the summer assizes in recovering an 
 estate in the county of Kent. He understood the 
 prisoner's father to be a respectable man ; some of the 
 family very opulent. Believes the prisoner has a 
 mother-in-law ; says the prisoner is married ; never 
 knew him to bear any other name than John Hatfield , 
 he married a lady of the name of Nation. His 
 assignees have sold the estate in question. Witness 
 knows nothing of his circumstances previous to the 
 ■recovery of the estate. It was rented at ^loo per 
 annum. Does not know why the prisoner quitted 
 Devonshire. Did not then travel in his own carriage, 
 but formerly kept a carriage. 
 
 After the evidence v/as gone through, his lordship, 
 Sir A. Thompson, with a great deal of perspicuity and 
 force, summed up the whole of the evidence, and com- 
 mented upon such parts as peculiarly affected the fate 
 of the prisoner. " Nothing," his lordship said, " could 
 be more clearly proved, than that the prisoner did 
 make the bill or bills in question under the assumed 
 name of Alexander Augustus Hope, with an intention 
 to defraud. That the prisoner used the additional 
 name of Augustus was of no consequence in this 
 question. The evidence proved clearly that the 
 prisoner meant to represent himself to be another 
 character ; and under that assumed character, he drew 
 the bills in question. If anything should appear in 
 mitigation of the offences with which the prisoner was 
 charged, they must give them a full consideration ; 
 and though his character had been long shaded with 
 obloquy, yet they must not let this in the least 
 influence the verdict they were sworn to give " 
 . The jury consulted about ten minutes, and then 
 returned a verdict — Guilty of Forgery. 
 
 The trial commenced about eleven o'clock in the 
 forenoon, and ended about seven in the evening, 
 during the whole o which time the court was 
 excessively crowded. The prisoner's behaviour in 
 
MARY OF BUTTERMERE. 1 9 
 
 court was proper and dignified, and he supported his 
 situation from first to last with unshaken fortitude. 
 He employed himself during the greatest part oi his 
 trial in writing notes on the evidence given, and in 
 conversing with his counsel, Messrs. Topping and 
 Holroyd. 
 
 When the verdict of the jury was given, he manifested 
 no relaxation of his accustomed demeanour. After 
 the court adjourned, he retired from the bar, and was 
 ordered to attend the next morning to receive the 
 sentence of the law. The crowd was immense, and 
 he was allowed a post-chaise from the town-hall to 
 the gaol.* 
 
 At eight o'clock the next mornmg the court met 
 again, when the prisoner appeared at the bar to receive 
 his sentence. Numbers of people gathered together 
 to witness this painful duty of the law passed upon one 
 whose appearance, manners, and actions, had excited 
 a most uncommon degree of interest. After proceeding 
 in the usual form, the judge addressed the prisoner in 
 the following impressive terms : 
 
 " John Hatfield, after the long and serious investiga- 
 tion of the charges which have been preferred against 
 you, you have been found guilty by a jury of your 
 country. 
 
 " You have been distinguished for crimes of such 
 magnitude as have seldom, if ever, received any miti- 
 gation of capital punishment ; and in your case it is 
 impossible it can be limited. Assuming the person, 
 name, and character of a worthy and respectable officer, 
 a member of a noble family in this country, you have 
 perpetrated and committed the most enormous crimes. 
 The long imprisonment you have undergone has 
 afforded time for your serious reflection, and an 
 
 *The gaol and court-house were at that period divided by the 
 street. The gaol, &c.. has since been rebuilt, and there is now a 
 passage from one to the other. 
 
20 JOHN HATFIELD AND 
 
 opportunity of your being deeply impressed with a 
 sense of the enormity of your crimes, and the justness 
 of that sentence which must be iniiicted upon you ; 
 and I wish you to be seriously impressed with the 
 awfulness of your situation. I conjure you to reflect 
 with anxious care and deep concern on your approach- 
 ing end, concerning which much remains to be done. 
 Lay aside now your delusions and impositions, and 
 employ properly the short space you have to live. I 
 beseech you to employ the remaining part of your 
 time in preparing for eternity, so that you may find 
 mercy at the hour of death, and in the day of judg- 
 ment. Hear now the sentence of the law : — That 
 you be carried from hence to the place from whence 
 you came, and from thence to the place of execution^ 
 and there to be hung by the neck till you are dead : 
 and may the Lord have mercy on your soul !" 
 
 A notion very generally prevailed that he would not 
 be brought to justice, and the arrival of the mail was 
 daily expected with the greatest impatience. No 
 pardon arriving, Saturday, September 3rd, 1803, was 
 at last fixed upon for the execution. 
 
 The gallows was erected the preceding night between 
 twelve and three, on an island formed by the river 
 Eden, on the north side of the town, between the two 
 bridges. From the hour when the jury found him 
 guilty he behaved with the utmost serenity and 
 cheerfulness. He talked upon the topics of the day, 
 with the greatest interest or indifference. He could 
 scarcely ever be brought to speak of his own case. 
 He neither blamed the verdict, nor made any con- 
 fession of his guilt. He said he had no intention to 
 defraud those whose names he forged ; but was never 
 heard to say that he was to die unjustly. None of his 
 relations ever visited him during his confinement. 
 
 The alarming nature of the crime of forgery, in a 
 commercial country, had taught him from the beginning 
 to entertain no hope of mercy. By ten in the morning 
 
MARY OF BUTTERMERE. 2 1 
 
 of September 3 his irons were struck off; he appeared 
 as usual, and no one observed any alteration or 
 increased agitation whatever. 
 
 Soon after ten o'clock he sent for the Carlisle 
 Journal, and perused it for some time. A little after 
 he had laid aside the paper, two clergymen (Mr. 
 Pattison of Carlisle, and Mr. Mark of Burgh on-Sands), 
 attended and prayed with him for about two hours, 
 and drank coffee with him. After they left him, about 
 twelve, he wrote some letters, and in one he enclosed 
 his penknife ; it was addressed to London. About 
 this time he also shaved himself; though entrusted 
 with a razor, he never seems to have meditated an 
 attempt upon his life ; but it was generally reported 
 on Friday night that he had poisoned himself, though 
 without any foundation. To all who spoke with him, 
 he pretended that what he had to suffer was a matter 
 of little consequence. He preferred talking on in- 
 different subjects. At three, he dined with the gaoler, 
 and ate heartily. Having taken a glass or two of 
 wine, he ordered coffee. He took a cup a few minutes 
 before he set out for the place of execution. The last 
 thing he did was to read a chapter from the 2d 
 Corinthians. He had previously marked out this 
 passage for his lesson before he was to mount the 
 scaffold. 
 
 The sheriffs, the bailiffs, and the Carlisle volunteer 
 cavalry, attended at the gaol door about half-past three, 
 together with a post-chaise and hearse. He was then 
 ordered into the turnkey's lodge, for the purpose of 
 being pinioned, where he inquired of the gaoler, who 
 were going in the chaise with him ? He was told, the 
 executioner and the gaoler. He immediately said, 
 *' Pray, where is -jhe executioner ? I should wish 
 much to see him." The executioner was sent for. 
 Hatfield asked him how he was, and made him a 
 present of some silver in a paper. During the time of 
 his being pinioned, he stood with resolution, and 
 
22 JOHN HATFIKLD AND 
 
 requested he might not be pinioned tight, as he wished 
 to use his handkerchief on the platform ; which request 
 was complied with. A prodigious crowd had assembled , 
 this being market-day, numbers of people had 
 come from a distance of many miles, out of 
 mere curiosity, to witness the execution. Hat- 
 field, when he left the prison, wished all his fellow 
 prisoners might be happy : he then took a farewell of 
 the clergyman, who attended him to the door of the 
 chaise, and mounted its steps with much steadmess 
 and composure. The gaoler and executioner went in 
 along with him. The latter had been brought from 
 Dumfries upon a retaining fee of ten guineas. 
 
 It was exactly four o'clock when the procession 
 moved from the gaol. Passing through the Scotch gaie, 
 in about twelve minutes it arrived at the Sands Half 
 the yeomanry went before the carriage, and the other 
 half behind. Upon arriving on the ground, they 
 formed a ring round the scaffold. It is said that he 
 wished to have the blinds drawn up, but that such 
 an indulgence was held inconsistent with the interest 
 of public justice. When he came in sight of the gallows, 
 he said to the gaoler, he imagined that was the tree 
 (pointing to it) that he was to die on. On being told 
 that it was, he exclaimed, "Oh ! a happy sight — I 
 see it with pleasure ! " 
 
 As soon as the carriage door had been opened by 
 the under-sheriff, he alighted with his two companions • 
 A small dung cart, boarded over, had been placed 
 under the gibbet, and a ladder was placed against it, 
 which he instantly ascended. He was dressed in a 
 black jacket, black silk waistcoat, fustian pantaloons, 
 shoes, and white cotton stockings. He was perfectly 
 cool and collected. At the same time, his conduct 
 displayed nothing of levity, of insensibility, or of 
 hardihood. He was more anxious to give proof of 
 resignation than of heroism. His countenance was 
 extremely pale, but his hand never trembled. He 
 
MARY OF BUTTERMERE. 
 
 23 
 
 immediately untied his neckerchief, and placed a 
 bandage over his eyes. Then he desired the hang- 
 man, who was extremely awkward, to be as expert 
 as possible about it, and that he would wave a 
 handkerchief when he was ready. The executioner not 
 having fixed the rope in its proper place, he put up 
 his hand and turned it himself. He tied his cap and 
 his neckerchief about his head also. Then he 
 requested the gaoler would step on the platform and 
 pinion his arms a little harder, saying, that when he 
 had lost his senses he might attempt to lift them to 
 his neck. The rope was completely fixed about five 
 minutes before five o'clock ; it was slack, and he 
 merely said, "May the Almighty bless you all." Nor 
 did he falter in the least, when he tied the cap, shifted 
 the rope, and took his neckerchief from his neck. 
 
 He several times put on a languid and piteous smile. 
 He at last seemed rather exhausted and faint. Having 
 been near three weeks under sentence oi death, he 
 must have suffered much, nothwithstanding his 
 external bearing ; and a reflection of the misery he 
 had occasioned must have given him many an agoniz- 
 ing throb. 
 
 Having taken leave of the gaoler and sheriff, he 
 prepared himself for his fate. He was at this time 
 heard to exclaim, " My spirit is strong, though my 
 body is weak." 
 
 Great apprehensions were entertained that it would 
 be necessary to tie him up a second time. The noose 
 slipped twice, and he fell down about eighteen inches. 
 His feet at last were almost touching the ground, but 
 his excessive weight, which occasioned this accident, 
 speedily relieved him from pain. He expired in a 
 moment, and without any struggle. The ceremony of 
 his hands being tied behind his back, was satisfied by 
 a piece of white tape passed loosely from one to the 
 other, but he never made the slightest effort to reUeve 
 himself. He had calculated so well, that his money 
 
24 JOHN HATFIELD AND 
 
 lasted exactly to the scaffold. As they were setting 
 out, the executioner was going to search him. He 
 threw him half-a-crown, saying, " This is all my pockets 
 contain." He had been in considerable distress before 
 he received a supply from his father. He afterwards 
 lived in great style, frequently making presents to his 
 fellow felons. He was considered in the gaol as a kind 
 of emperor : he was allowed to do whatever he pleased, 
 and no one took offence at the air of superiority which 
 he assumed. 
 
 He was cut down after he had hung about an hour. 
 On the preceding Wednesday he had applied to one 
 of the clergymen who attended him (Mr. Pattison) to 
 recommend him a tradesman to make his coffin. Mr. 
 Joseph Bushby, of Carlisle, took measure of him. He 
 did not appear at all agitated while Mr. Bushby was so 
 employed ; but told him that he wished the coffin to 
 be a strong oak one, plain and neat. " I request, Sir," 
 he added, " that after I am taken down, I may be put 
 into the coffin immediately, with the apparel I may 
 have on, and afterwards tightly screwed down, put into 
 the hearse which will be in waiting, carried to the 
 churchyard of Burgh-on-Sands, and there be interred 
 in the evening." 
 
 The coffin, which was made of oak, was, however, 
 adorned with plates, and extremely handsome every 
 way. A hearse, which was in waiting according to 
 his orders, followed with it to the ground, and after- 
 wards bore him away. It seems he had a great terror 
 of his body being takeii up ; and though he was told 
 that it would be safer for him to be buried in the city, 
 yet he preferred Burgh, a place extremely sequestered, 
 about five miles west from Carlisle ; but the conscien- 
 tious parishioners of place objected to his being laid 
 there, and the body was consequently conveyed in the 
 hearse to St. Mary's churchyard, Carlisle, close by the 
 northern gate, the usual place for those who come to 
 -m untimely e^ §«s«"--ol iY\c.n then set to work to dig 
 
MARY OF BUTTERMERE. 25 
 
 a grave. The spot fixed upon was in a distant corner 
 of the churchyard, far from the other tombs. No priest 
 attended, and the coffin was lowered without any 
 rehgious service. Notwithstanding his varied and 
 comphcated enormities, his untimely end excited con- 
 siderable commiseration in this place. His manners 
 were extremely polished and insinuating, and he was 
 possessed of qualities which might have rendered him 
 an ornament to society. 
 
 The following is a copy of Hatfield's Epitaph. 
 
 " OUR LIFE IS BUT A WINTER'S DAY, 
 
 SOME ONLY BREAKFAST AND AWAY ; 
 
 OTHERS TO DINNER STAY, 
 
 AND ARE FULL FED ; 
 
 THE OLDEST MAN BUT SUPS AND GOES TO BED. 
 
 LARGE IS HIS DEBT WHO LINGERS OUT HIS DAY ; 
 
 HE WHO GOES THE SOONEST HAS THE LEAST TO PAY." 
 
 The unfortunate Mary of Buttermere, for a time, 
 went from home to avoid the impertinent visits of un- 
 feeling curiosity. By all accounts she was much 
 affected ; and, indeed, without supposing that any 
 part of her former attachment remained, it is impossi- 
 ble that she could view his tragical fate with indiffer- 
 ence. When her father and mother heard that 
 Hatfield had certainly been executed, they both 
 exclaimed, " God be thanked ! " 
 
 On the day of his condemnation, Wordsworth and 
 Coleridge passed through Carlisle, and endeavoured 
 to obtain an interview with him. Wordsworth suc- 
 ceeded ; but, for some unknown reason, the prisoner 
 steadily refused to see Coleridge ; a caprice which 
 could not be penetrated. It was true that he had, 
 during: his whole residence at Keswick, avoided Cole- 
 
26 JOHN HATFIELD AND 
 
 ridge with a solicitude which had revived the original 
 suspicions against him in some quarters, after they 
 had generally subsided. However, if not him, Cole- 
 ridge saw and examined his very interesting papers. 
 These were chiefly letters from women whom he had 
 injured, pretty much in the same u'ay and by the same 
 impostures as he had so recently practised in Cumber- 
 land. Great was the emotion of Coleridge when he 
 afterwards recurred to these letters, and bitter— almost 
 vindictive — was the indignation with which he spoke 
 of Hatfield. One set of letters appeared to have been 
 written under too certain a knowledge of his villainy 
 towards the individual to whom they were addressed ; 
 though still relying on some possible remains of 
 humanity, or perhaps (the poor \vriter might have 
 thought) on some lingering relics of affection for her- 
 self. The other set was even more distressing ; they 
 were written under the first conflicts of suspicions, 
 alternately repelling with warmth the gloomy doubts 
 which were fast arising, and then yielding to their 
 afflicting evidence ; raving in one page under the 
 niisery of alarm, in another courting the delusions of 
 hope, and luring back the perfidious deserter — here 
 resigning herself to despair, and there again labouring 
 to show that all might yet be well. Coleridge said 
 often " In looking back upon that frightful exposure 
 of human guilt and misery, that the man who, when 
 pursued by these heart-rending apostrophes, and with 
 this litany of anguish sounding in his ears, from des- 
 pairing women and famishing children, could yet find 
 it possible to enjoy the calm pleasures of a lake 
 tourist, and deliberately hunt for the picturesque, must 
 have been a fiend of that order which, fortunately, 
 does not often emerge amongst men." " It is painful 
 to remember that, in those days, amongst the multitude 
 who ended their career in the same ignominious way, 
 and the majority for offences connected with the forgery 
 of bank notes, there must have been a considerable 
 
MARY OF BUTTERMERE. 2 J 
 
 number who perished from the opposite cause, — 
 namely, because they felt, too passionately and pro- 
 foundly for prudence, the claims of those who looked 
 up to them for support. One common scaffold con- 
 founds the most flinty hearts and the tenderest. How- 
 ever, in this instance it was in some measure the 
 heartless part of Hatfield's conduct which drew upon 
 him his ruin ; for the Cumberland jury, it has been- 
 asserted, declared their unwillingness to hang him for 
 having forged a frank ; and both they, and those who 
 refused to aid his escape, when first apprehended, were 
 reconciled to this harshness entirely by what they heard 
 of his conduct to their injured young fellow^ country- 
 woman. 
 
 Every year since, shoals of tourists have crowded to 
 the secluded lake and the little homely cabaret {the 
 Fish inn), which had been the scene of her brief 
 romance. It was fortunate for a person in her dis- 
 tressing situation that her home was not in a town ; 
 the few and simple neighbours who had witnessed her 
 imaginary elevation, having little knowledge of worldly 
 feelings, never for an instant connected with her dis- 
 appointment any sense of the ludicrous, or spoke of it 
 as a calamity to which her vanity might have co- 
 operated They treated it as unmixed injury, reflect- 
 ing shame on nobody but the wicked perpetrator. 
 
 " Hence," says De Qumcey, " without much trial to 
 her womanly sensibilities, she found herself able to re- 
 sume her situation m the little inn. In that place and 
 in that capacity I saw her, and shall here say a word 
 upon her personal appearance, because the lake poets 
 all admired her greatly. Her figure was good in my 
 eye, but I doubt whether most of my readers would 
 have thought so. She was none of your evanescent 
 wasp-waisted beauties , on the contrary, she was rather 
 large every way, tallish, and proportionately broad. Her 
 face was fair, and her leatures feminine, and unques- 
 tionably she was what all the world would call ' good- 
 
-aS JOHN HATFIELD AND 
 
 looking,' except in her arms, which had something of 
 a statuesque beauty, and in her carriage, which ex- 
 pressed a womanly grace. 
 
 I looked in vain for any positive qualities of any 
 kind or degree : — beautiful in any emphatic sense she 
 was not, everything about her face and bust was nega- 
 tive; simply without offence. Even this, however, 
 was more than could be said at all times, for the ex- 
 pression could be disagreeable ; this arose out of her 
 situation, connected as it was with defective sensibility 
 and a misdirected pride. 
 
 Nothing operates so differently upon different 
 minds and different styles of beauty as the inquisitive 
 gaze of strangers, whether in the spirit of respectful 
 admiration or of insolence. In Mary of Buttermere it 
 roused mere anger and disdain, which, meeting with 
 the sense of her humble and dependent situation, gave 
 birth to a most unhappy aspect of countenance. * * * 
 Men who had no touch of a gentleman's nature in 
 their composition sometimes insulted her by words 
 and looks, supposing that they purchased the right to 
 do so by an extra half-crown. Thus she too readily 
 attributed the same spirit of impertinent curiosity to 
 every man whose eyes happened to settle steadily 
 upon her face. Yet once at least I must have 
 seen her under the most favourable circumstances, for 
 on my first visit to Buttermere I had the pleasure of 
 Mr. Southey's* company, who was incapable of wound- 
 ing anyone's feelings, and to Mary in particular was 
 well known by kind attentions, and, I believe, by some 
 service ; then, at least, I saw her to some advantage, 
 and perhaps for a figure of her build at the best age, 
 for it was nine or ten years after her misfortune. We 
 were a solitary pair of tourists, nothing arose to con- 
 fuse or distress her. She waited upon us at dinner, 
 and talked to us freely She, meantime, under the 
 
 Late Poet Laureate. 
 
MARY OF BUTTERMERE. 29 
 
 name of ' The Beauty of Buttermere,' became an ob- 
 ject of interest to all England. Melodramas were 
 produced in London theatres upon her story." 
 
 Mary was afterwards united to a respectable farmer, 
 in another part of the county, and, unfortunately for 
 her poetical fame, became " fat and well-looking," 
 and without anythmg in her appearance which might 
 lead to the discovery that she was a person who had 
 at one time been the subject of the poet's song. 
 
 The following address to " Mary of Buttermere " is 
 from 
 
 WORDSWORTH'S PRELUDE. 
 
 [The distant friend here apostrophised was the late 
 S. T. Coleridge, then at Malta.'] 
 
 " Friend, O distant friend : a story drawn 
 
 From our own ground — the Maid of Buttermere ; 
 
 And how, unfaithful to a virtuous wife. 
 
 Devoted and deceived, the spoiler came 
 
 And woo'd the artless Daughter of the Hills, 
 
 And wedded her in cursed mockery 
 
 Of love and marriage bonds. 
 
 These words to thee 
 
 Must needs bring back the moment when we first, 
 
 Ere the broad world rang with the maiden's name, 
 
 Beheld her serving at the cottage inn ; 
 
 Both stricken, as she entered or withdrew, 
 
 With admiration of her modest mien 
 
 And carriage, marked by unexampled grace. 
 
 We, since that time, not unfamiliarly 
 
 Have seen her — her discretion have observed, 
 
 Her just opinions, delicate reserve. 
 
 Her patience and humility of mind, 
 
3C JOHN HATFIELD, &C. 
 
 Unspoiled by commendation and the excess 
 Of public notice — an offensive light 
 To a meek spirit suffering inwardly." 
 
 " It should be added that William Wordsworth and 
 Samuel Taylor Coleridge had seen Mary more fre- 
 quently and conversed with her much more than 
 myself. — Truly yours, R. Southey." 
 
 -S?^i 
 
BUTTERMERE. — CUMBERLAND LASSES, 3 I 
 
 BUTTERMERE & PENNY POSTAGE. 
 
 Sir Rowland Hill's death, in 1879, recalls an incident 
 which fell under his notice more than forty years 
 before, and which he repeated to a committee of the 
 House of Commons in proof of his statement that the 
 then high postal charges upon letters were not only 
 all but prohibitory but were also a cause of demoral- 
 ization among the people, as training them in habits 
 of deceit and evasion. Hill was recruiting himself 
 among the Cumberland fells, and was lodged near 
 Buttermere Lake. One morning, hearing the post- 
 man's horn, he walked down to the wicket and got his 
 letters. Behind him was the servant of the house, 
 and to her the postman said, " Here's yan for thee, 
 Matty." "Let's see't," said Matty, who, taking it, 
 gave a glance at the address, and handed it back 
 with a fine air of mixed indignation and astonishment, 
 exclaiming, " Pay saxpence ! I'll du nowt o' t' swort ; 
 tak it wid thee." The postman replied, " Varra weel, 
 suit thy sel'," and walked away. 
 
 Hill, who was standing by, fancied that poverty 
 might have prompted the girl's refusal, and willing to 
 assist, questioned her and got for answer, " O it's ^' 
 reet, the letter's frae my brudder Ben. He's at sar 
 vice, nigh Peerith, an' we 'greed when he left that he'd 
 reet an' say if he'd behyame at Martimas. If he cood 
 na get, he'd pit a cross on t' left haun corner ; an' if 
 he could get, he'd pit yan on t' reet haun. A got a 
 leuk o' t' letter, en' Ben'll be here at Martimas." And 
 Matty went singing away. 
 
 CUMBERLAND LASSES AT THE 
 ROYAL AGRICULTURAL SOCIETY'S SHOW 
 AT CARLISLE, 1880. 
 The "Man of Mark Lane," in his notes oi 
 the great show at Carlisle, which, like the Kil- 
 burn one of the previous year, was spoiled by 
 the heavy rains, writes;— "It was a subject oi 
 
3* CUMBERLAND LASSES. 
 
 common remark in the showyard that the Cumber- 
 land lasses came dressed in the most sensible manner 
 to suit a showyard on a wet day of any lady show- 
 goers that the speakers had seen. There were no low 
 shoes and worked stockings, as there were at Kilburn^ 
 and scarcely any gay dresses or elaborate white skirts. 
 Almost, without exception, these sensible lasses came 
 clad in waterproofs down to their ankles, and with 
 little finery to be spoilt by any amount of rain. Alto- 
 gether they looked the kind of farmers' wives and 
 daughters to face agricultural depression, either by 
 stopping here or going into the distant parts of the 
 earth to get a living, I fancy some of them could give 
 Mrs. Davison and the other members of the Lady- 
 Farmers' Club a wrinkle or two. Let me not be mis- 
 understood. Although, like Jenny Wren, these Cum- 
 berland lasses had put on their " brown gowns," and 
 had not dressed " too fine," and although they looked 
 as if they could face depression, they were not by any 
 means deficient in attractions — not at all maid-of-all- 
 work looking lasses. On the contrary, I have never 
 seen — but no, I will not go on ; these columns are 
 sometimes read at my own house, and perhaps a little 
 caution in a matter of this kind is desirable. The men 
 of Cumberland (here I am on safe ground) are noted as 
 athletes, and are a fine looking set of fellows ; but 
 they are certainly not superior to their wives and 
 daughters." 
 
33 
 
 THRELKELD HALL AND THE CASTLE 
 ROCK, VALE OF ST. JOHN'S. 
 
 About four miles east of Keswick, is Threlkeld 
 Hall, now a dilapidated farmhouse, but with a high 
 romance associated with it. Here was brought up in 
 humble but safe seclusion, the young Clifford, son of 
 that worthless noble who slew the young Earl of Rut- 
 land, and, therefore, for whose innocent blood the 
 swords of York were all athirst : 
 
 " There at BIcncathra's rugged feet, 
 Sir Lancelot gave a safe retreat 
 To noble Clifford, — from annoy 
 Concealed the persecuted boy." 
 
 He dwelt as a shepherd here for four-and-twenty 
 years, without learnmg even so much as to read and 
 write, but leading, as it seems, a very contented life, 
 under the protection of Sir Lancelot Threlkeld, who 
 had married his mother, and behaved to him with 
 a generosity very unusual with stepfathers of that 
 period. On the succession of Henry VII., he was 
 restored to his estates ; and conducted himself in such 
 a manner as to exchange the title of " The Shepherd 
 Lord " for that of "The good Lord Clifford." 
 
 "In him the savage virtues of his race, 
 
 Revenge and all ferocious thoughts, vi^ere dead ; 
 Nor did he change ; but keep in lofty place 
 The wisdom which adversity had bred." 
 
 The valley of St. John runs directly southward from 
 Threlkeld, and in front is the famed Castle Rock, 
 apparently barring the defile. The greatest of British 
 descriptive poets has thus described it in his Bridal 
 of Trienjiam : — 
 
 " Paled in by many a lofty hill. 
 The narrow dale lay smooth and still ; 
 And, down its verdant bosom led, 
 A winding brooklet found its bed." 
 
 1> 
 
34 THRELKELD TARN. 
 
 In Bowscale Tarn, on Saddleback, tradition asserts 
 that two immortal fish have their abode. The homage 
 of these fish is amongst the acknowledgments which 
 are stated by the Minstrel, in his " Song at the feast of 
 Brougham Castle," to have been paid to the secret 
 power of the good Lord Clifford, when a shepherd- 
 boy, in adversity — 
 
 "And both the undying fish that swim 
 
 In Bowscale Tarn, did wait on him ; 
 
 The pair were servants of his eye 
 
 In their immortality ; 
 
 They moved about in open sight, 
 
 To and fro, for his delight." 
 
 THRELKELD TARN. 
 
 Exaggerating travellers have described Threlkeld 
 Tarn as an abyss of waters upon which the sun never 
 shines, and wherein the stars of heaven may be seen 
 at noonday. Sir Walter Scott alludes to this fable in 
 these lines of the Bridal ofTriermain :^ 
 " Above her solitary track 
 Rose Blencathra's ridgy back, 
 Amid whose yawning gulfs the sun 
 Cast uniber'd raidance red and dim : 
 Though never sun-beam could discern 
 The surface of that sable tarn, 
 In whose black mirror you may spy 
 The stars while noon-tide lights the sky." 
 
 A THOUGHT SUGGESTED BY A VIEW OF SADDLEBACK. 
 By S. T. Coleridge. 
 " On stern Blencathra's perilous height 
 
 The winds are tyrannous and strong ; 
 And flashing forth unsteady light, 
 From stern Blencathra's skyey height, 
 
 How loud the torrents throng ! 
 Beneath the moon in gentle weather, 
 They bind the earth and sky together ; 
 But oh ! the sky and all its forms how quiet. 
 The things that seek the earth, how full of noise and riot ! " 
 
35 
 SKIDDAW, KESWICK. 
 
 *' Whea that hes climb'd Skiddaw hes seen sec a prospec, 
 "Where fells frown owre fells and in majesty vie ? 
 Whea that hes seen Keswick can count hauf its beauties, 
 
 May e'en try to count hauf the stars i' the sky ; 
 Theer's Ullswater, Bassenthwaite, Wastwater, Derwent, 
 
 That thousands on thousands ha'e travelled to view : 
 The langer they gaze still the mair they may wonder, 
 
 And ay as they wonder may fin' summet new." 
 ********** 
 
 " I stopp'd on a fell, tuik a lang luik at Skiddaw." 
 
 ********** 
 
 Anderson. 
 
 The wonderful panoramic views from Skiddaw are 
 eulogised by the enraptured Poet, Wordsworth, in a 
 fine sonnet : — 
 
 "Pelion and Ossa flourish side by side, 
 Together in immortal books enrolled ; 
 His ancient dower Olympus hath not sold, 
 And that aspiring hill, which did divide 
 Into two ample horns his forehead wide, 
 Shines with poetic radiance as of old ; 
 While not an English mountain we behold 
 By the celestial muses glorified. 
 Yet round our sea-girt shore they rise in crowds. 
 What was the great Parnassus' self to thee. 
 Mount Skiddaw ? In its natural sovereignty, 
 Our British hill is nobler far, he shrouds 
 His double front among Atlantic clouds, 
 And pours forth streams more sweet than Castaly.' 
 
 Even the city-loving Elia (Charles Lamb) was 
 enraptured with Skiddaw and its views. " O ! its fine 
 black head," he writes in one of his letters, " and 
 the bleak air a-top of it, with a prospect of mountains 
 all about and about, making you giddy ; and then 
 Scotland afar off, and the border counties so famous 
 in song and ballad ! It was a day that will stand out 
 like a mountain, I am sure, in my life." " Bleak " the 
 air is, indeed, "atop," exposed, as the summit is, to the 
 
 D2 
 
36 YEW TREES. 
 
 sea-winds. Michael Drayton alludes in one of his 
 poems to 
 
 "Snow-crowned Skiddaw's lofty cliffs," 
 and a poet of later years, John Keats, compares an 
 earnest gazer to one who would — 
 
 " From off old Skiddaw's top, when fog conceals 
 His rugged forehead in a mantle pale, 
 With an eye guess towards some pleasant vale, 
 Descry a favourite hamlet faint and fair." 
 
 YEW TREES. 
 
 Near the celebrated black-lead mine in Borrowdale 
 is the little less celebrated yew trees to be seen, of 
 which Wordsworth says : — 
 
 " Those fraternal four of Borrowdale, 
 Joined in one solemn and capacious grove 
 Huge trunks, and each particular trunk a growih 
 Of intertwisted fibres, serpentine, 
 Up-coiling, and inveterately convolved : 
 Nor uninformed with phantasy, and looks 
 That threaten the profane ; — a pillared shade. 
 Upon whose grassless floor of red -brown hue, 
 By sheddings from the pining umbrage tinged 
 Perenially — beneath whose sable roof 
 Of boughs, as if for festal purpose, decked 
 With unrejoicing berries — ghostly shapes 
 May meet at noon-tide ; Fear and trembling Hope, 
 Silence and Foresight ; Death the skeleton 
 And Time the shadow ; — there to celebrate, 
 As in a natural temple scattered o'er 
 With altars undisturljed of mossy stone, 
 United worship ; or in mute repose 
 To lie, and listen to the mountain flood 
 Murmuring from Glaramara's inmost caves." 
 
 The size attained by the yew in this district is 
 astonishing. One, which for many years lay prostrate 
 at the other end of Borrowdale, measured nine yards 
 in circumference, and contained 1,460 cubic feet of 
 wood. The famous Lorton Yew has about the same 
 
DERWENTWATER. 37 
 
 girth ; appearing like a dark clump beside a white 
 farmhouse. 
 
 In Patterdale churchyard there is another- ancient 
 and remarkably fine old yew tree, which attracts the 
 notice of all visitors to that place, the trunk of which 
 is to some extent decayed, being so split and divided 
 that it presents several through openings. To this 
 tree there is an excellent good story attached. Some 
 years ago the then Bishop of London (Blomfield) and 
 family were visiting the lakes, and in due course 
 arrived at the " Sun" Hotel, Pooley Bridge, UUswater. 
 The boatman at the hotel, Tom Watt, an original, 
 uneducated, but quick-witted individual, had the 
 honour of rowing the party (there being no steamer on 
 the lake at that time) up the lake from Pooley to 
 Patterdale. On arriving at the latter place his lord- 
 ship visited the " House of Prayer." In doing so lie 
 noticed the yew tree, and observing its shattered con- 
 dition, exclaimed " tliat it must be very old." Tom, 
 equal to the occasion, replied, and assured his 
 lordship "that it was, being 9,999 years old." His 
 lordship was astonished, and remarked " that it must 
 have been there before the flood." Tom's ready 
 rejoinder to this observation was, "Yes, doesn't your 
 lordship see how the waters has washed holes through 
 it." The Bishop was so pleased and amused with. 
 Tom's fertility of invention, that his guide received 
 a reward, and the intimation " that it was the best story 
 he had heard since leaving London." 
 
 DERWENTWATER. 
 
 Southey, writing fo a friend, said : — " I have seen a 
 sight more dreamy and wonderful than any scenery 
 that fancy ever yet devised for fairy-land. We had 
 walked down to the lake side ; it was a delightful day, 
 the sun shining, and a few white clouds hanging 
 
38 DERWENTWATER. 
 
 motionless in the sky. The opposite she re of Der- 
 wentwater consists of one long mountain, which sud 
 denly terminates in an arch, and through that opening 
 you see along valley between mountains, and bounded 
 by mountain beyond mountain; to the right of the arch 
 the heights are more varied and of greater elevation. 
 Now, as there was not a breath of air stirring, the surface 
 of the lake was so perfectly still that it became one great 
 mirror, and all its waters disappeared : the whole 
 line of shore was represented as vividly and steadily 
 as it existed in its being — the arch, the vale within, 
 the single houses far within the vale, the smoke 
 from their chimneys, the farthest hills, and the shades 
 and substance joined at their bases so indivisibly, that 
 you could make no separation even in your judg- 
 ment. As I stood on the shore, heaven and the clouds 
 seemed lying under me ; I was looking down into the 
 sky, and the whole range of mountains, having one 
 line of summits under my feet, and another above me 
 seemed to be suspended between the firmaments. 
 Shut your eyes and dream of a scene so unnatural and 
 so beautiful." 
 
 Southey declares in his " Colloquies " that the best 
 generalviewof Derwentwater isfromthe terrace between 
 Applethwaite and Millbeck, a little before the former 
 hamlet. " The old roofs and chimneys of the hamlet," 
 he continues, " come finely in the foreground, and the 
 trees upon the Ormathwaite estate give there a rich- 
 ness to the middle ground which is wanting in other 
 parts of the vale." 
 
 Miss Martineau says : — The islands of Derwent- 
 water are full of historic interest. The Radcliffes 
 possessed Lord's Island, the largest on the b.ke, which 
 was once a part of the mainland, and traces of the 
 family residence which stood there are still to be found. 
 In the feudal times they cut a fosse, and set up a 
 drawbridge. _ Everywhere there are traces of the 
 unhappy family ; even in the sky, the aurora borealis 
 
SOUTHER FELL. 39 
 
 being sometimes called, to this day. Lord Derwent- 
 water's lights, because it was particularly brilliant the 
 night after his execution, Rampsholme, another of 
 ihe islands, was theirs also, and the hermit, the dear 
 friend of St. Cuthbert, who lived on St. Herbert's 
 Isle in the seventh century, is somehow mixed up 
 in legends, or local imaginations (which are careless 
 of dates), with the same family. All that is known 
 of St. Herbert is, that he really had a hermitage on 
 the island, and that St. Cuthbert and he used to meet 
 either at Lindisfarne or Derwentwater, once a year. 
 The legend of their deaths is well known : namely, 
 that, according to their prayer, they died on the same 
 day. There is beauty in the tradition that the man 
 of action and the man of meditation, the propagandist 
 and the recluse, were so dear to each other, and so 
 congenial. Vicar's or Derwent Isle, is the other of 
 the four large islands, and a cool and fragrant bower 
 it is. The Floating island,* whose appearance is 
 announced at intervals of a few years, has obtained 
 more celebrity than it deserves. It is a mass of soil 
 and decayed vegetation, which rises when distended 
 with gases, and sinks again when it has parted with 
 them at the surface. Such is the explanation given by 
 philosophers of this piece of natural magic, which has 
 excited so much sensation during successive genera- 
 tions. Sometimes it comes up as a mere patch, and 
 sometimes as large as an acre. 
 
 SOUTHER FELL. 
 
 ITS PHANTOM ARMY. — MIRAGE. 
 
 Souther Fell, a portion of the mountain Blencathra, 
 or Saddleback, on the left of the road from Keswick 
 
 *There is no doubt that the rising of this so called Floating 
 Island is caused by gas, evolved from decayed vegetable matter, 
 by the action of the sun, as the Island rises only after a season 
 of very hot weather. 
 
40 SOUTHER FELL. 
 
 to Penrith, is the very home of superstition and 
 romance. This Souther, or Soutar Fell, is the moun- 
 tain on which ghosts appeared in myriads at intervals 
 during ten years of the last century, presenting the 
 same appearance to twenty-six chosen witnesses, and 
 to all the cottagers within view of the mountain, and 
 for a space of two hours and a half at one time, the 
 spectral show being closed by darkness ! The moun- 
 tain, be it remembered, is full of precipices, which defy 
 all marching of bodies of men, and the north and west 
 sides present a sheer perpendicular of 900 feet. On 
 midsummer eve, i735,afarm servant of aMr. Lancaster, 
 half a mile from the mountain, saw the eastern side of 
 its summit covered with troops, who pursued their 
 onward march for an hour. They came in distinct 
 bodies from an eminence on the north end, and dis- 
 appeared in a niche at the summit. When the poor 
 fellow told his tale, he was insulted on all hands — as 
 original observers usually are when they see anything 
 wonderful. Two years after, also on a midsummer's 
 eve, Mr, Lancaster saw some men there, apparently 
 following their horses, as if they had returned from 
 hunting. He thought nothing of this; but he hap- 
 pened to look u]) again ten minutes after, and saw the 
 figures, now mounted and followed by an interminable 
 array of troops, five abreast, marching from the emin- 
 ence and over the cleft as before. All the family saw 
 this, and the manoeuvres of the force, as each com- 
 pany was kept in order by a mounted officer, who 
 galloped this way and that. As the shades of twilight 
 came on the discipline appeared to relax, and the 
 troops intermingled and rode at unequal paces, till all 
 was lost in darkness. Now, of course, all the Lan- 
 casters were insulted, as their servant had been : but 
 their justification was not long delayed. On the mid- 
 summer eve of 1745, twenty-six persons, expressly 
 summoned by the family, saw all that had been seen, 
 and more. Carriages were now interspersed with the 
 
SOUTHER FELL. 4 1 
 
 troops; and everybody knew that no carriages ever 
 had been or could be on the summit of Souther Fell. 
 The multitude was beyond imagination, for the troops 
 filled a space of half a mile, and marched quickly, till 
 night hid them — slill marching. There was nothing 
 vaporous or indistinct about the appearance of these 
 spectres. So real did they seem, that some of the 
 people went up next morning to look for the hoof- 
 marks of the horses ; and awful it was to them to find 
 not one footprint on heather or grass. The witnesses 
 attested the whole story on oath before a magistrate ; 
 and fearful were the expectations held by the whole 
 country side about the coming events of the Scotch 
 rebellion. It now came out that two others had seen 
 something of the sort in the interval — viz., in 1743— 
 but had concealed it, to escape the insults to which 
 their neighbours were subjected. Mr. Wren, of Wilton 
 Hall, and his farm-servant saw, one summer evening, 
 a man and a dog on the mountain pursuing some 
 horses along a place so steep that a horse could hardly 
 by any possibility keep a footing on it. Their speed 
 was prodigious, and their disappearance at the south 
 end of the Fell so rapid, that Mn Wren and the ser- 
 vant went up the next morning to find the body of 
 the man, who must have been killed. Of the man, 
 horse, or dog they found not a trace ; and they came 
 down and held their tongues. VVhen they did speak, 
 they fared not much better for having twenty-six sworn 
 comrades in their disgrace. As for the explanation, 
 the Editor of the Lonsdale Magazine declared (vol. ii., 
 p. 313,) that it was discovered that on that midsummer 
 eve of 1745, the rebels were "exercising on the 
 western coast of Scotland, whose movements had been 
 reflected by some transparent vapour, similar to the 
 'Fata Morgana' or the 'Spectre of the Brocken.'" 
 This is not much in the way of explanation ; but it is 
 all that can be had. These facts, however, brought 
 out many more : as the spectral march of the same 
 
42 HELVELLYN. 
 
 kind seen in Leicestershire in 1707, and the tradition 
 of the tramp of armies over Helvellyn on the eve of 
 the battle of Marston Moor. 
 
 HELVELLYN. 
 
 That unfortunate " young lover of nature," Charles 
 Goughj^attempted to cross the mountain Helvellyn, by 
 way of Striding Edge from Wythburn to Patterdale, one 
 day in the early spring of 1805, after a fall of siiow 
 had partially concealed the path, and rendered it 
 dangerous. It could never be ascertained whether he 
 was killed by his fall, or perished with hunger. Let 
 us hope that death came with friendly care to shorten 
 sufferings that might have been yet more awful. 
 Three months elapsed before the body was found, and 
 then it was guarded by a faithful terrier bitch, his 
 constant attendant during frequent solitary rambles 
 through the wilds of Cumberland and Westmorland. 
 The remains of the stranger now peacefully repose in 
 the place of interment connected with the Friends' 
 Meeting House at Tirril, near Penrith. 
 
 The following lines by Wordsworth, records this 
 striking instance of brute fidelity : — 
 
 *' This dog had been through three months' space 
 A dweller in that savage place ; 
 Yes — proof was plain, that since the day 
 On which the traveller thus had died, 
 The dog had watched about the spot 
 Or by his master's side. 
 How nourished there through such a time^ 
 He knows, who gave that love sublime, 
 And gave that strength of feeling great 
 Above all huro:in estimate." 
 
 Sir Walter Scott also immortalises this sad occur- 
 rence in his sonnet on " Helvellyn " : — 
 
HELVELLYN. 43, 
 
 " I climb'd the dark brow of the mighty Helvellyn, 
 
 Lakes and mountains beneath me gleam'd misty and wide ; 
 All was still, save by fits, when the eagle was yelling, 
 
 And starting around me the echoes replied. 
 On the right, Striding Edge, round the Red Tarn was bending, 
 And Catchedicam its left verge was defending, 
 One huge nameless rock in the front was ascending. 
 
 When I marked the sad spot where the wanderer had died. 
 
 " Dark green was that spot 'mid the brown mountain heather, 
 Where the Pilgrim of Nature lay stretched in decay, 
 Like the corpse of an outcast abandoned to weather, 
 
 Till the mountain winds wasted the tenantless clay. 
 Nor yet quite deserted, though lonely extended, 
 For, faithful in death, his mute favourite attended, 
 The much-loved remains of her master defended. 
 And chased the hill-fox and the raven away. 
 
 " How long didst thou think that his silence was slumber? 
 
 When the wind waved his garment, how oft didst thou start ? 
 How many long days and long nights didst thou number, 
 
 Ere he faded before thee, the friend of thy heart ? 
 And, Oh ! was it meet that — no requiem read o'er him, 
 No mother to weep and no friend to deplore him. 
 And thou, little guardian, alone stretched before him — 
 
 Unhonour'd the Pilgrim from life should depart ? 
 
 •' When a prince to the fate of the peasant has yielded. 
 The tapestry waves dark round the dim-lighted hall ; 
 
 With scutcheons of silver the coffin is shielded, 
 And pages stand mute by the canopied pall : 
 
 Through the courts, at deep midnight, the torches are gleaming j 
 
 In the proudly-arched chapel the banners are beaming ; 
 
 Far adown the long aisle sacred music is streaming. 
 Lamenting a chief of the people should fall. 
 
 " But meeter for thee, gentle lover of nature. 
 
 To lay down thy head like the meek mountain lamb : 
 
 When, wilder'd, he drops from some cliff huge in stature, 
 And draws his last sob by the side of his dam. 
 
 And more stately thy couch by this desert lake lying. 
 
 Thy obsequies sung by the grey plover flying, 
 
 With one faithful friend but to witness thy dying, 
 In the arms of Helvellyn and Catchedicam." 
 
44 
 
 DANGER OF ASCENDING MOUNTAINS 
 IN WINTER. 
 
 A parallel case to that of Gough, occurred on the 
 Great Gable, in the neighbourhood of Wastwater, in 
 February, 1865. Mr. Lennox Butler was the son 
 of the Hon. Mr. Butler, of Cottonhouse, Rugby, 
 and about twenty-five years of age. He was a 
 frequent visitor to the lake district in summer, and 
 came at the close of January, 1865, to Keswick. He 
 made the Derwentwater Hotel, Portinscale, his head 
 quarters, v»'hich he left on the 2nd February, to explore, 
 for a few days, Borrowdale and Wastdale Head. In 
 the last-named place he remained at the house of Mr. 
 Ritson, thence making frequent excursions. Among 
 others, he ascended Scawfell, on which occasion he 
 lost himself on his return, and had to remain with 
 some shepherds all night. 
 
 On Wednesday, the 7th February, he went out at 
 eleven o'clock in the morning, for the purpose of 
 ascending the Great Gable, saying that he would be 
 back in about three hours. Seeing nothing of him 
 afterwards, Mr. Ritson concluded that he had gone to 
 Keswick. Several days passed away, when Mr. Bell, 
 the then landlord of t)ie Derwentwater Hotel, becoming 
 apprehensive that some accident had happened to Mr. 
 Butler, wrote to Mr. Ritson on the subject of his non- 
 appearance. Upon this, the latter started, with some 
 other mountaineers, in search of their missing guest. 
 They traced the marks of his snow shoes, to that 
 part of the Great Gable Fell facing Wastwater and 
 Ennerdale. On coming to a precipitous part they 
 lost these tracks ; but from the appearance of tlie snow, 
 it seemed as if something had rolled down the 
 jnountain side. 
 
 As it was not safe to descend at this place, a 
 retriever dog was sent down the steep, and when he 
 -had gone some 200 yards below, he halted and barked. 
 
DANGER OF ASCENDING MOUNTAINS IN WINTER. 45 
 
 By a circuitous route the men gained the spot and 
 there found the corpse of the hapless traveller covered 
 with snow, only a portion of his plaid protruding. 
 They carried him back to the house which he had 
 left only a week before in robust health and excellent 
 spirits. Upon examination, his skull was found to be 
 dreadfully fractured, and a part of his upper lip gone. 
 He had apparently lost his footing on the slippery 
 platform of the mountain, and rolled down with 
 terrific impetus, falling on his face. His hat and stick 
 were found at some distance. The deceased gentle- 
 man was an enthusiastic admirer of English mountain 
 scenery, and his face, as a visitor, was familiar in the 
 neighbourhood of Keswick and the outlying districts, 
 over which his awful death cast at the time a general 
 gloom. 
 
 Since the above sad event another fatal occurrence 
 took place, though the time was in the height of 
 summer. A Mr. Barnard, of Angel Street, St. Martin's- 
 le-Grand, London, started on a tour from Keswick, by 
 way of Borrowdale, Sty-head Pass, Wastdale, Black- 
 sail, through the head of the vale of Ennerdale, over 
 Scarf Gap to Buttermere, and thence back to Keswick. 
 He succeeded in his journey till he got into the vale 
 of Ennerdale, where he, having apparently become 
 fatigued by his difficult walk, sat down near a rock, 
 and whether from heart disease or a chill, checking 
 perspiration, and being without a companion, died. 
 It was some weeks before his remains were found at 
 some little distance away from the ordinary track. 
 Many others have had narrow escapes ; one of whom 
 suggested that '* The passes of Scarf Gap and Black 
 Sail should not be attempted late in the season with- 
 out a guide, for the following reasons : — A friend and 
 myself left the inn at Buttermere on our way to Wast- 
 dale, in a heavy rain, being pressed for time. We 
 reached the sum.mit of Scarf Gap and descended into 
 the Ennerdale Valley, with tolerable success, in spite 
 
46 THE CATARACT OF LODORE. 
 
 of a cold north-east wind and driving rain ; we also 
 ascended Black Sail about half way, when my friend's 
 pony, a hardy and powerful animal, came to a stand- 
 still. I then pushed on alone, on foot, to find a better 
 track for the pony, and had attained so close to the 
 summit as to see the platform, as it were, within my 
 reach, when prolonged wet and cold produced such 
 severe numbness and faintness, that I had barely 
 strength to return to my companion, whom I found 
 very little better off than myself But for a flask of 
 brandy in his bag, I do not think we could ever have 
 left the valley alive ; as it was, we had barely power to 
 make our way through the swamps, rocks, and 
 swollen torrents of the Liza. Never but once 
 before did I feel so near the gates of death ; and feel 
 it a duty to save, so far as in me lies, my fellow 
 creatures from so imminent a danger." 
 
 THE CATARACT OF LODORE. 
 
 [Written by the late Robert Southey, poet laureate, at Greta 
 Hall, Keswick, for the amusement of his children.] 
 
 *' How does the water 
 
 Come down at Lodore ? " 
 
 My little boy ask'd me 
 
 Thus once on a time. 
 
 And moreover he task'd me 
 
 To tell him in rhyme, 
 
 Anon at the word. 
 
 Then first came one daughter 
 
 And then came another, 
 
 To second and third 
 
 The request of their brother, 
 
 And to hear how the water 
 
 Comes down at Lodore, 
 
 With its rush and its roar, 
 
 As many a time 
 They had seen it before. 
 So I told them in rhyme, 
 For of rhymes I had store ; 
 
THE CATARACT OF LODORE. 47 
 
 And 'twas in my vocation, 
 For their recreation, 
 That so I should sing ; 
 Because I was laureate 
 To them and the King. 
 
 From its sources which well 
 
 In the tarn on the fell ; 
 
 From its fountains 
 
 In the mountains 
 
 lis rills and its gills ; 
 
 Through moss and through brake 
 
 It runs and it creeps 
 
 For awhile, till it sleeps 
 
 In its own little lake ; 
 
 And thence at departing, 
 
 Awakening and starting, 
 
 ll runs through the reeds 
 
 And away it proceeds, 
 
 Through meadow and glade, 
 
 In sun and in shade, 
 
 And through the wood shelter, 
 
 Among crags in its flurry, 
 
 Helter — skelter, 
 Hurry — skurry, 
 
 Here it comes sparkling, 
 
 And there it lies darkling ; 
 
 Now smoking and frothing 
 
 lis tumult and wrath in 
 
 Till in this rapid race 
 
 On which it is bent. 
 
 It reaches the place 
 
 Of its steep descent. 
 
 The cataract strong 
 
 Then plunges along. 
 
 Striking and raging. 
 
 As if a war waging 
 
 Its caverns and rocks among ; 
 
 Rising and leaping, 
 
 Sinking and creeping, I ■ 
 
 Swelling and sweeping, 
 
 Showering and springing, 
 
 Flying and flinging, 
 
 Writhing and ringing, 
 
 Eddying and whisking, 
 
 Turning 'and twisting, 
 
48 THE CATARACT OF LODORE. 
 
 Around and around, 
 "With endless rebound ! 
 Smiting and fighting. 
 A sight to dehght in ; 
 Confounding, 
 Astounding, 
 Dizzying and deafening the ear with its sound. 
 
 Collecting, projecting, 
 Receding and speeding. 
 And shocliing and rocking, 
 And darting and parting, 
 And threading and spreading, 
 And whizzing and hissing. 
 And dripping and skipping, 
 And hitting and spitting. 
 And shining and twining 
 And rattling and battling, 
 And shaking and quaking. 
 And pouring and roaring. 
 And waving and raving. 
 And tossing and crossing, 
 And flowing and going, 
 And running and stunning, 
 And foaming and roaming, 
 And dinning and spinning, 
 And dropping and hopping, 
 And working and jerking. 
 And juggling and struggling, 
 And heaving and cleaving, 
 And moaning and groaning, 
 And glittering and frittering, 
 And gathering and feathering, 
 And whitening and brightening, 
 And quivering and shivering, 
 And hurrying and skurrying. 
 And thundering and floundering. 
 
 Dividing, and gliding, and sliding, 
 
 And falling, and brawling, and sprawling. 
 
 And driving, and riving, and striving. 
 
 And sprinkling, and twinkling, and wrinklings 
 
 And sounding and bounding, and rounding, 
 
 And bubbling and troubling and doubling. 
 
 And grumbling, and rumbling, and tumbling. 
 
 And clattering, and battering, and shattering, 
 
 Retreating, and beating, and meeting, and sheeting. 
 Delaying, and straying and playing, and spraying, 
 
DUNMAIL RAISE. 49 
 
 Advancing, and prancing, and glancing, and dancing, 
 Recoiling turmoiling, and toiling, and boiling, 
 And gleaming and streaming, and steaming and beaming, 
 And rushing, and flushing, and brushing, and gushing, 
 And flapping, and rapping, and clapping, and slapping. 
 And curling, and whirling, and purling, and twirling. 
 And thumping, and plumping, and bumping, and jumpirg, 
 And dashing, and flashing, and splashing, and clashing, 
 And so never ending, but always descending. 
 Sounds and motions for ever and ever are blending, 
 All at once, and all o'er, with a mighty uproar, 
 And this way the water comes down at Lodorc. 
 
 DUNMAIL RAISE. 
 
 'Twixt Cumberland and Westmorland 
 There stands a pile of stones ; 
 
 'Tis said to mark the resting place 
 Of " brave King Dunmail's bones." 
 
 Seat Sandal on the east looks down. 
 And on the west Steel Fell ; 
 
 And could their hoary summits speak, 
 The history they might tell : 
 
 How Scotch and Saxon monarchs, 
 
 Nine hundred years ago, 
 Had joined their arms against Dunmail 
 
 To strike a crushmg blow. 
 
 And here he met the forces twain, 
 
 And made a gallant stand 
 For hearth, and home, and liberty, 
 
 And his native Cumberland. 
 
 But here he fell, and many more 
 
 Brave warriors of the west ; 
 And this, the cairn, his followers built 
 
 To show his place of rest. 
 
 In Grisedale Tarn his crown was sunk — 
 
 For ever lost to view ; 
 But this, his rugged monument, 
 
 Has stood long ages through. 
 
5© A MIRAGE ON SKIDDAW. 
 
 But dalesmen give another name — 
 
 A different story tell ; 
 And by "The Devil's Stoneheap" 
 
 The pile is known right well. 
 
 They say that long, long years ago, 
 
 The hero of the tale 
 Took up an apronful of stones 
 
 To bear across the vale. 
 
 With careful steps he downward came 
 So far, and all went well ; 
 
 When lo ! the apron-string gave way 
 And down the boulders fell. 
 
 And to this day they're lying there — 
 'Tis said they always will — 
 
 And many a traveller knows it 
 
 As " The Devil's Stoneheap " still. 
 
 A MIRAGE ON SKIDDAW. 
 
 The folloviring account of a very remarkable mirage 
 was written by a " Cumbrian " to the pubhsher. He 
 had, at the time, resided in the modern Babylon about 
 sixty years, and who, being deeply absorbed in busi- 
 ness there, had probably never heard or read of the 
 "Spectre of the Brocken," or the "Spectre Army of 
 Souther Fell," as will be seen from his statement. On 
 the occasion of one of his visits to his native place, he, 
 in company with two friends, ascended Skiddaw, for 
 the purpose of viewing a " rolling sea of mountains," 
 they became, unexpectedly, spectators of, in this 
 locality, a rare phenomena — a mirage. He said :— ^ 
 "Although I have now (1854) resided fifty-four years in 
 and near the metropolis, I have, in every three or four 
 years of that time, visited my native hills of Cumber- 
 land, which I left at twenty years of age. The ' ever- 
 lasting hills' remain, and Skiddaw, to my eye, increases 
 each time in lofty majesty ! but my early friends once 
 surrounding its base, Where are they ? I might repeat 
 
A MIRAGE ON SKIDDAW. ci 
 
 (I think with Byron), "Echo says, Where are they?" 
 My affection for the grand and romantic scenery 
 remains as strong as ever, but many of my visits have 
 been clouded by the remembrance of dear departed 
 friends. 
 
 It is curious to reflect how httle the inhabitants of 
 England generally know of their own country; but 
 now that facilities are so great, it must surely become 
 otherwise— now that a summer's day can, at a trifling 
 expense and no trouble, set the London passenger 
 down at the beautiful lake of Windermere,* and a 
 beautiful morning's ride then places him at the foot of 
 Skiddaw, after passing through Bowness, Ambleside, 
 and by Rydal Mount (which must be endeared to 
 many as the abode of our departed Wordsworth, and 
 still the residence of his aged and amiable widow, 
 with both of whom I had the happiness to be 
 acquainted) ; then by the lakes of Rydal, Grasmere, 
 &c., until coming to the top of the hill overlooking 
 the Vale of Keswick, the eye revels with delight un- 
 utterable over the lakes of Derwentwater and Bassen- 
 thwaite, and the indescribable scenery surrounding 
 them. With such an evening sky as Wordsworth 
 knew well how to choose, I would venture to say with 
 him, ' That in many points of view our lakes are much 
 more interesting than those of the Alps.' 
 
 When I took up my pen it was to tell an unvarnished 
 tale, ' not at the expense of truth,' for the circum- 
 stance was witnessed by myself. Such an appearance 
 I never heard recorded of the Alps, the Hartz moun- 
 tains, or any other mountains of the globe ; and thus 
 I claim for Skiddaw a pre-eminence which I wish my 
 own countrymen to appreciate. This adventure I have 
 often told to my friends (some of whom may possibly 
 
 * The railway from Penrith to Keswick and Cockermouth was 
 not then constructed. 
 
52 A MIRAGE ON SKIDDAW, 
 
 read this), but I have never before given it to the 
 public. Now to my tale : 
 
 On the 4th of October, 1820, I, with two friends 
 (one of whom, a relative, is now no more), set out 
 from Cockermouth at seven in the morning, and 
 walked to Bassenthwaite, about seven miles. We 
 ascended Skiddaw on that side, which is more steep 
 than the ascent from Keswick, being about three and 
 the other five miles to the summit. The morning was 
 beautifully fine until we had completed about one- 
 third of our way up, when we were suddenly surprised 
 by rain, and we could no longer see the fine prospect 
 around us. We had no guide, and had got upon some 
 swampy ground, which made me consider it unsafe to 
 go on, and I proposed to return. My friends, how- 
 ever, were more courageous, and we had not proceeded 
 more than a quarter of an hour before we saw the 
 rainy cloud which had immersed us pass away at our 
 feet, and over it the whole country beaming in the 
 sunshine. We now 'went on our way rejoicing,' 
 stopping occasionally to rest and to enjoy the con- 
 stantly expanding view. The sky was serene when we 
 arrived at the top, and not a cloud visible, save a few 
 fleecy ones rolling slowly along the side of the moun- 
 tain, considerably below us. The air seemed more 
 agreeable than that of a summer's day : exercise had, 
 no doubt, contributed to the warmth and comfort 
 which we felt. To attempt a description of the scenery 
 here would be vain. I advise every lover of nature 
 to go and see it. 
 
 I have already been too prolix, but now comes the 
 pith of my story. We had to call on my friend, Mr. 
 Slack (now no more), who then lived at Red House, 
 on the south-western side of the mountain, and, to do 
 this, go down by what is called Ullock Pyke, a narrow 
 ridge, on the right of which, as you descend, is a 
 terrific chasm, on whose border we had to walk on a 
 line with each other ; and I think at the time we were 
 
A MIRAGE ON SKIDDAW. 
 
 53 
 
 about six yards apart. On the left we had a declivity 
 of greensward ; we were obliged to step carefully for 
 our own safety, and could not, therefore, now look 
 around us. Suddenly we perceived this great cavity 
 to be fearfully gloomy, as if filled with a dense fog, or 
 by something we did not comprehend, and the dark 
 gigantic figure of a man, as standing on a cloud, right 
 before us in the centre of a luminous ring of about 
 twelve feet diameter, of the most vivid prismatic 
 colours of the rainbow, and at the apparent distance 
 of about ten yards, the circle extending about two 
 feet above the head and the like beneath the feet. 
 For the m.oment we were awe-stricken. My yet sur- 
 viving friend exclaimed, ' Tremendous ! just like Jesus 
 Christ ! ' There was now a silent pause, but in a 
 minute we looked calmly on the figure before us, and 
 still considered it independent of ourselves — that is, 
 that we had nothing to do with its formation. It was 
 then two o'clock. The sun shone brightly upon where 
 we stood, and his rays passed us into the dark abyss, 
 at the oblique angle consequent on the time of the 
 year and on the time of the day. One of us acci- 
 dentally made some gesticulation, and saw that the 
 figure did likewise, and then called out, ' It's my 
 figure ! ' Another, holding up his hand, said ' No, 
 it's mine ! ' and so said the third. Thus we found 
 that, although one figure only was visible to all of us, 
 yet ///^/ was a magnified one of himself, and that the 
 beautiful circular iris was reflected to his own eye 
 alone, and, had there been twenty of us, each and all 
 would have seen but one appearance. The whole, I 
 Ihink, lasted not more than five or six minutes, when 
 the vivid colours gradually faded, the opaque figure 
 began to be transparent, and the gulf again clear as 
 the scenery around us. 
 
 My idea is that this effect might possibly be the 
 result of a fleecy cloud, such as we had frequently seen 
 that day rolling up the chasm, of a sufficient density 
 
54 KESWICK REGATTA IN THE OLDEN TIME. 
 
 to refract the sun's rays and operate as a concave 
 mirror to give back the luiman forms magnified to 
 about eight feet in height ; but this is a crude sug- 
 gestion only. I do not wonder that the simple 
 peasantry of mountainous countries are often super- 
 stitious. 
 
 So many circumstances must combine to produce 
 what I have endeavoured to describe, that I fear 
 visitors may often traverse Ullock Pyke and never see 
 the hke again. 
 
 We then descended quickly by the enclosure of firs 
 to Mr. Slack's house, and having told what we thought 
 our wondrous tale, and eaten with great zest some cold 
 refreshment, accompanied with tea, we walked back to 
 Cockermouth, reverently impressed by the sermons 
 which mountains and lakes so eloquently preach, and 
 without being too fatigued to have a sound sleep at 
 night. J. B. 
 
 KESWICK OR DERWENTWATER REGATTA 
 IN THE OLDEN TIME. 
 
 A regatta, which took place on the 6th of Septem- 
 ber, 1782, is thus described : At eight o'clock in the 
 morning a vast concourse of ladies and gentlemen 
 appeared on the side of the Derwent Lake, where v. 
 number of marquees, extending about 400 yards, were 
 erected for their accommodation. At twelve, such of 
 the company as were invited by Mr. Pocklington, 
 passed over in boats to the island which bears his 
 name (now known as Derwent Isle) ; and, on their 
 landing, were saluted by a discharge of his artillery. 
 This might properly be called the opening of the 
 regatta; for as soon as the echo of this discharge had 
 ceased, a signal gun was fired, and five boats, which 
 lay upon their oars (on that part of the water which 
 
KESWICK REGATTA IN THE OLDEN TIME. 55 
 
 runs nearest the town of Keswick), instantly pushed 
 off the shore, and began the race. 
 
 A view from any of the attendants' boats (of which 
 there were several) presented a scene which beggars 
 all description. The sides of the hoary mountains 
 were clad with spectators, and the glassy surface of 
 the lake was variegated with a number of pleasure 
 barges, which, tricked out in all the gayest colours, 
 and glittering in the rays of a meridian sun, gave a new 
 appearance to the celebrated beauties of this match- 
 less vale. 
 
 The contending boats passed Pocklington's Island, 
 and, rounding St. Herbert's and Rampsholm, edged 
 down by the outside of Lord's Island, describing in 
 the race almost a perfect circle, and during the 
 greatest part, in full view of the company. 
 
 About three o'clock, preparations were made for 
 the sham attack on Pocklington's Island. The fleet 
 (consisting of several barges, armed with small cannon 
 and muskets) retired out of view, behind Friars Crag, 
 to prepare for action ; previous to which, a flag of 
 truce was sent to the Governor, with a summons to 
 surrender upon honourable terms. A defiance was 
 returned ; soon after which the fleet was seen advancing, 
 with great spirit, before the batteries, and instantly 
 forming into a curved line, a terrible cannonade 
 began on both sides, accompanied with a dreadful 
 discharge of musketry. This continued for some 
 time, and being echoed from hill to hill, in an amazing 
 variety of sounds, filled the ear with whatever could 
 produce astonishment and awe. All nature seemed 
 to be in an uproar, which impressed on the awakened 
 imagination the most lively ideas of the * war of 
 elements ' and crush of worlds. 
 
 After a severe conflict, the enemies were driven 
 from the attack, in great disorder. Kfetc de joie was 
 then fired in the fort, and oft repeated by the respon- 
 sive echoes. The fleet, after a little delay, formed 
 
56 ST. HERBERT AND HIS ISLE. 
 
 again, and practising a great variety of beautiful 
 manoeuvres, renewed the attack. Uproar again 
 sprang up, and the deep-toned echoes of the moun- 
 tains again joined in the solemn chorus, which was 
 heard to the distance of ten leagues to leeward, 
 through the eastern opening of that vast amphitheatre, 
 as far as Appleby. 
 
 The garrison at length capitulated, and the enter- 
 tainments of the water being finished (towards even- 
 ing) the company moved to Keswick ; to which other 
 place from the water's edge, a range of lamps was fixed, 
 very happily disposed, and a number of fireworks 
 were played off. 
 
 An assembly-room (which had been built for the 
 purpose) next received the ladies and gentlemen, and 
 a dance concluded this annual festivity ; a chain of 
 amusements whicli, we may venture to assert, no other 
 town can possibly furnish, and which wants only to be 
 more universally known to render it a place of more 
 general resort than any other in the kingdom. 
 
 To those whom nature's works alone can charm, 
 this spot will, at all times, be viewed with rapture and 
 astonishment ; but no breast, however unsusceptible 
 of pleasure, can be indifferent to that display o Jevery 
 beauty which decks the ancient vale of Keswick on a 
 regatta day. 
 
 ST. HERBERT AND HIS ISLE. 
 
 St. Herbert's Island, about four acres in extent, is 
 densely covered with trees ; its situation is very central 
 in the lake, and contained a curious octagonal grotto 
 or cottage, built with unhewn stones, mossed over, and 
 thatched ; its site is near that of an ancient hut said 
 to have been occupied by St. Herbert, the ruins of 
 which are left untouched. Respecting this recluse it 
 
ST. HERBERT AND HIS ISLE. 57 
 
 IS related that St. Herbert, a priest and confessor, who, 
 to avoid the intercourse of man, and that nothing might 
 Avithdraw his attention from unceasing mortification 
 and prayer, chose this island for his abode. The 
 scene around him was well adapted to the severity of 
 his religious life. He was surrounded with the lakes, 
 from whence he received his diet. On every hand, the 
 voice of waterfalls excited the most solemn strains of 
 meditation — rocks and mountains were his daily 
 prospect, inspiring his mind with ideas of the might 
 and majesty of his Creator; and were suitable to his dis- 
 position of soul. Silence seemed to take up her eternal 
 abode. From the situation of this island, nature hath 
 given one half of the year to impetuous hurricanes 
 and storms. Here this recluse erected an hermitage, 
 the remains of which appear to this day, being built 
 of stone and mortar, formed mto two apartments. The 
 outer one, about twenty feet by sixteen, has probably 
 been his chapel , the other of narrower dimensions, 
 his cell, and apparently a little garden adjoining. 
 
 Bede, in his history of the Church of England, 
 writes thus of this saint : — There was a certain priest, 
 revered for his uprightness and perfect life and man- 
 ners, named Herbert, who had a long time been in 
 union with the man of God (St. Cuthbert of Fame 
 Isle) in the bond of spiritual love and friendship ; for 
 living a solitary life in the isle of that great and ex- 
 tended lake from whence proceeds the river of Der- 
 went, he used to visit St. Cuthbert every year, to 
 receive from his lips the doctrine of eternal life. 
 AVhen this holy priest heard of St, Cuthbert coming 
 to Luguballia, he came after his usual manner, desir- 
 ing to be comforted more and more with the hopes of 
 everlasting bliss by his divine exhortations. As they 
 sat together, the Bishop said, " Remember, brother 
 Hereberte, that whatsoever ye have to say and ask of 
 me, you do it now, for after we depart hence, we shall 
 not meet again, and see one another corporally in 
 
58 ST. HERBERT AND HIS ISLE. 
 
 this world ; for I know well the time of my dissolution 
 is at hand, and the laying aside of this earthly taber- 
 nacle draweth on apace!" When Hereberte heard this, 
 he fell down at his feet, and with many sighs and 
 tears, "beseeched him, for the love of the Lord, that 
 he would not forsake him, but to remember his faith- 
 ful brother and associate, and make intercession with 
 the gracious God, that they might depart hence into 
 heaven together, to behold his grace and glory whom 
 they had in unity of spirit served on earth ; for you 
 know I have ever studied and laboured for him ac- 
 cording to your pious and virtuous instructions ; and 
 in whatsoever I offended or omitted through igno- 
 rance and frailty I straightway used my earnest efforts to 
 amend after your ghostly counsel, will, and judgment ! " 
 At this earnest and affectionate request of Hereberte's, 
 the Bishop went to prayer, and presently being 
 certified in spirit that his petition to heaven would be 
 granted. "Arise," said he, " my dear brother ; weep 
 not, but let your rejoicing be with exceeding gladness, 
 for the great mercy of God hath granted unto us our 
 prayer." The truth of which promise and prophecy 
 was well proved in that which ensued ; for their 
 separation was the last that befel them on earth : on 
 the same day, which was the 19th day of March, 
 their souls departed from their bodies, and were 
 straight in union in the beatific sight and vision ; and 
 were transported hence to the kingdom of heaven by 
 the service and hand of angels. 
 
 It is probable the hermit's little oratory or chapel 
 might be kept in repair after his death, as a particular 
 veneration appears to have been paid by the religious 
 of after ages to this retreat, and the memory of the 
 saints. There is a variance in the accounts given by 
 authors of the day of the saints' deaths : Bede says the 
 19th day of March ; other authors on the 20th day of 
 May, A.D. 687 ; and by a record given in Bishop 
 Appleby's Register, it would appear that the 13th 
 
THE WONDERS OF SADDLEBACK. 59 
 
 day of April was observed as the solemn anniversary. 
 But, however, in the year 1734, at the distance of 
 almost seven centuries, we find this place resorted to 
 in holy services and processions, and the hermit's 
 memory celebrated in religious offices. 
 
 THE WONDERS OF SADDLEBACK. 
 
 The following description of the incidents experi- 
 enced by a party of visitors to Saddleback (a very 
 rare occurrence), we give in the words of one of the 
 number, and will be found very interesting : — 
 
 " When we had ascended about a mile up that 
 portion known as Scales Fell, one of the party, on 
 looking round, was so astonished with the different 
 appearance of objects in the valley, so far beneath us, 
 that he declined proceeding. We had not gone much 
 further, till the other companion ( of the relator ) 
 was suddenly taken ill, and wished to return. 
 I was almost ready to give up my project, which 
 I should have done with great reluctancr, as 
 the day was remarkably favourable, and exhibited 
 every scene to the greatest advantage. We were 
 assured that if we proceeded a little way, we should 
 find a resting-place, where the second defaulter might 
 recover from the effects of his journey. After labour- 
 ing another half-hour, we gained the margin of an 
 immense cavity, in the side of the mountain, the 
 bottom of which formed a wide basin, and was filled 
 with water ; that from our station looked black, though 
 smooth as glass, covering the space of from 25 to 35 
 acres. It is said to be so deep that the sun never 
 shines upon it, and that the reflection of the stars may 
 be seen therein at noon-day ; but that was a curiosity 
 we did not enjoy. From our station there was a 
 gentle declivity to a smooth and verdant lawn, several 
 
6o THE WONDERS OF SADDLEBACK. 
 
 yards in breadth, which was the situation our guide 
 had promised us ; and the descent thereto led us 
 about half-way to the lake : a like easy descent would 
 have led us to the edge of the lake, round which there 
 was a broad green walk ; but our leader informing 
 us of the danger of passing that slippery path, we did 
 not proceed. We now contemplated the scene with 
 awe-struck vjonder. We stood directly facing the 
 middle of the mountain, the form of which gives it the 
 name of Saddleback : and to the lake a perpendicular 
 rocky precipice presented itself, extending to the north- 
 east side of the mountain called Foul-crag. To the 
 right hand, the steepness of the rocks gradually 
 declined ; above us, and on the left, they were 
 stupendous and perpendicular ; so that in one half of 
 the circle the rocks were lofty and precipitous, whilst 
 in the other half they gradually decreased. My fellow- 
 traveller would proceed no further ; and, with my 
 guide, I was left to explore the other parts of the 
 mountain. ' Winding round, and keeping the cavity 
 on our right, we attained the ridge or summit of the 
 rock, where we found a passage three or four yards 
 broad : on the right, the descent to the lake looked 
 truly awful ; whilst the steep rocks on the other side 
 were lofty, and not to be climbed by human steps. 
 This passage, some hundred yards in length, may be 
 compared to a bridge covered with grass. Having 
 reached the summit, we went to the point nearest to 
 Keswick vale, and there enjoyed a most delightful 
 prospect ; from thence we passed to the next point, 
 being Foul-crag, with Skiddaw on the left ; from 
 whence we looked down into a dreadful abyss, the 
 bottom of which the eye could not penetrate : sheep 
 frequently perish in this place, as the number of dead 
 carcasses and skeletons evinced. We walked back by 
 the side next to the lake ; but to look down from 
 thence was so terrible, I could not endure it a moment. 
 We perceived from thence, that my companion, whom 
 
THE BOWDER STONE, BORROWDALE. 6 1 
 
 we had last left, was laid upon the ground ; I pressed 
 the guide to hasten to him, but he refused, alleging 
 that a fog was rising, and it would be very hazardous 
 for me to explore my way alone down the mountain. 
 In a short time we were enveloped in a very dense 
 vapour, so that we were obliged to keep near to each 
 other; the sudden change was almost incredible. It 
 was with difficulty my guide regained the passage, 
 or dry bridge, which we missed on several attempts ; 
 and one incautious step would have plunged us in the 
 horrid abyss. The fog soon afterwards dispersed, as 
 precipitately as it came on, and left us again under a 
 serene sky. We passed to the foot of Foul-crag, to 
 view its wonderful precipices from their base ; and 
 again safely reached our destination, after a laborious 
 travel of four hours. 
 
 On the side of the mountain we found several large 
 plots of the Lycopodium Clavatum, or Club Moss ; the 
 creeping branches of which were closely matted and 
 interwoven, and formed a carpet that seemed to 
 surpass the workmanship of the finest artists. 
 
 THE BOWDER STONE, BORROWDALE. 
 
 The Boulder or Bowder Stone is an immense block 
 of rock, and is supposed at some time to have become 
 detached and fallen from the mountain side above. 
 It rests on so small a base as to allow persons on its 
 opposite sides to shake hands through a hole under it 
 near the ground. Its length is 62 feet, height 36 feet, 
 circumference 89 feet, and is computed to weigh 1,971 
 tons, and is supposed to be the largest separate piece 
 of rock in the world. The following lines in the third 
 book of Wordsworth's •'' Excursion " is very apropos to 
 this mass of granite : — 
 
-62 DRUID's circle, KESWICK. 
 
 ' ' Upon a semicirque of turf-clad ground, 
 The hidden nook discovered to our view, 
 A mass of rock, resembling, as it lay 
 Right at the foot of that moist precipice, 
 A stranded ship, with keel upturned, that rests 
 Fearless of winds and waves." 
 
 DRUID'S CIRCLE, KESWICK. 
 
 The circle is formed of 38 stones, the largest of which 
 is upwards of seven feet high and several tons in 
 weight ; and on the eastern side, within the circle, 
 there are ten other stones. This monument of an 
 unknown past is in a good state of preservation. If, as 
 is popularly believed, it was a Druidical temple, its 
 commanding position must have served to impress a 
 feeling of solemnity on the devotees. What means 
 the Druids had of bringing and placing these stones in 
 their present position is a mystery of which there is 
 not the faintest trace; their appliances must have been 
 very powerful, more so than the present generation is 
 disposed to give them credit for. Again, it is equally 
 a mystery as to where they procured the stones — they 
 must have been brought from a considerable distance, 
 probably from the river Greta below ; and then comes 
 the question, How were they got up the hill to their 
 respective positions ? As Southey observed, " the 
 spot is the most commanding that could be chosen, 
 short of a mountain side ; " and it is indeed nearly 
 surrounded by mountains. 
 
 The old legend about the last human sacrifice of 
 the Druids may belong to any of the monuments of 
 that age in the district, and is probably claimed for 
 them all. According to that old story : When some 
 people settled in a clearing of the woods, beside a 
 river, somewhere to the south of the district, the priests 
 took up their station further north, among the moun- 
 tains, where there were plenty of stones, fit and ready 
 for their temple. After a time a fever laid waste the 
 
DRUIDS CIRCLE, KESWICK. 63 
 
 lower settlement, and the oracle demanded a sacrifice 
 to appease the divine wrath. The lot fell on a young 
 girl who was betrothed ; and, on an appointed day, 
 she was conveyed, with all the ceremonies, to the 
 temple. A small hut of wickerwork, like a large bee- 
 hive, was found set up on the western side of the 
 temple. The girl was led into the circle and placed 
 in the midst, while the deaication proceeded. We 
 are even told that she was adorned with an oak gar- 
 land, and held mistletoe in her hand. The whole 
 population was looking on from a distance, but it 
 must have been within reasonable reach, as everyone 
 was required to contribute a stick to the fire. The 
 wretched lover saw all from afar, and he daringly 
 resolved — let the god be as wrathful as he pleased — 
 not to contribute so much as a twig to the burning of 
 his beloved. She was seen to enter the door, which 
 was next to the circle, and then the priest closed it up, 
 and heaped dry leaves and sticks that were brought 
 all round the hut. The Arch-Druid in the meantime 
 was procuring fire from two pieces of wood. He suc- 
 ceeded, and set the pile in a blaze. In this moment 
 of despetration the lover saw every mountain round 
 give foreh a great cataract, and all the floods gushed 
 to the timple as to a centre, and made an island of 
 the litt.e hut, returning when they had extinguished 
 the fire The victim came forth with not a hair 
 singed, and not a leaf of her garland withered. The 
 Arch-Druid, skilled to interpret thunder, seems to 
 have understood in this case the voice of the waters ; 
 for he announced that, henceforth, the god would 
 have no more sacrifices. 
 
 Any visitor who may be sufficiently familiar with the 
 residents, and can get them to speak their minds fully, 
 will probably find that they still hold to the notion 
 that no person can count the Druid stones correctly. 
 There are in such circles smaller stones cropping out 
 of the ground, which some visitors will, and others will 
 not, include among those of the circle. 
 
64 
 
 WHAT IS A MOUNTAIN ? 
 
 A correspondent of Notes and Queries writes : — I 
 have been led to make this query by a remark in an 
 article in the Times, June, 1880. In speaking of the 
 geographical features of England, the writer says, "We 
 have no mountains." As I have, during the last few 
 weeks, ascended the mountains Scawfell Pike, Hel- 
 vellyn, and Skiddaw, this remark of the Times made 
 me feel rather small. When I had accomplished 
 Scawfell Pike, which is 3,200 feet high, and inaccessi- 
 ble even by mountain ponies for the last mile or so, I 
 certainly felt, like Master Silence, that I had "done 
 somewhat," and yet, when I returned home, I am 
 told, on the high authority of the Times, that there are 
 no mountains in England. The three mountains above 
 mentioned are all over 3,000 feet in height. If this 
 does not entitle an elevation to be called a mountain, 
 what height does entitle it to be so called ? It is no 
 doubt true enough that 3,000 feet is a very small 
 affair compared with the 15,000 feet of Mont Blanc or 
 Monte Rosa, but then so is 4,400, the height of Ben 
 Nevis. The last named, the highest mountain in 
 Scotland, is about 1,200 feet higher than Scawfell 
 Pike, the highest in England ; but this, when com- 
 pared with the prodigious heights of the Himalayas or 
 the Andes, is not worth mentioning. It would accor- 
 dingly be equally true to say there are no mountains 
 in Scotland, which seems like a reductio ad absurdu^n. 
 Lovers of Wordsworth cannot but feel thankful that 
 the poet's lot was not cast in the present time. I feel 
 that the destruction of the beautiful lake of Thirlmere, 
 or, at any rate, its conversion into a great tank, which 
 is much the same thing, would have been a life -long 
 sorrow to him. > If, in addition to this, he had been 
 told on the authority of the chief organ in Europe, 
 that it was nothing but a delusion to suppose that his 
 beloved Helvellyn and Skiddaw are really mountains, he 
 would have felt that insult was added to injury indeed. 
 
THE BORROWDALE CUCKOO. 65 
 
 ABBOTS OF FURNESS. 
 
 When the Abbots oi Furness owned the whole of 
 Bon'owdale, a few monks were placed at its entrance 
 to receive and guard the crops, and the hamlet of 
 Grange was their granary. 
 
 THE BORROWDALE CUCKOO. 
 
 A gentleman now deceased (known to the writer) 
 who was a resident and owner of property in the far- 
 famed vale of Borrowdale — one of a jocular disposi- 
 tion, though still a gentleman, used to enjoy amazingly, 
 when on his way home on horseback from Keswick, 
 the fun of the boys who ran after him and shouted 
 "cuckoo.'' If they performed their part well they, 
 were sure to be rewarded with coins of the realm for 
 their attentions to him. Of Borrowdale many curious 
 tales are told, and which are enjoyed and laughed 
 at by the inhabitants as excellent stories to amuse 
 the public. One story is that a party ot these dales- 
 men were once escorting a waggon-load of their 
 valuable black-lead to London, and it being the days 
 when thieves and highwaymen abounded, they were 
 all armed with blunderbusses to guard their treasure. 
 Resting the first night at Keswick, they were sheltered 
 in one of the inns there, the waggon being placed in 
 the entrance gateway, which was closed by large doors, 
 the men taking it in turns to watch. Now it so hap- 
 pened that the owner of the house possessed, what was 
 then rather uncommon, a cuckoo clock ; when the 
 hour of ten came round the clock began to strike, 
 saying in slow and measured time, "Cuckoo." The 
 Borrowdalians, thinking some of the town-lolk, hearing 
 of their arrival, had come to mock, threatened, if the 
 words were repeated, to fire, be the consequences, 
 what they might. The clock, of course, was deat to 
 the threats of the enraged and mortified man, and 
 
 F 
 
66 THE BORROWDALE CUCKOO. 
 
 went on repeating " Cuckoo." This was too much for 
 him — the Borrowdalian — so he fired upon his sup- 
 posed jesters. 
 
 Tradition has it that upon one occasion the Borrow- 
 dalians decided, as spring tmie was so very charming, 
 to enjoy a perennial one , and the sound of the 
 cuckoo being so gladsome in the vale, to build a 
 wall to keep in the cuckoo, and so have it for 
 ever. They, it is alleged, built a wall across the 
 entrance at Grange. The plan did not answer, but 
 that was because, accordmg to popular belief, from 
 generation to generation, the wall was not built one 
 course higher. It was simply on account of the wall 
 being just loo low that the cuckoo flew over, and so 
 eternal spring does not veign in Rorrowdale. 
 
 It is also said that an old Borrowdale man, in days 
 past, went forth wjiii horse and sacks ( for there 
 were no carts, because there was no roads) to bring 
 home lime from beyond Keswick. On his return, 
 when he was near Grange, it began to rain, and the 
 man was alarmed at seeing his sacks begin to smoke. 
 He got a handful of water from the river, but the 
 smoke grew worse. Assured at length that the devil 
 must be where there was any fire which was aggravated 
 by water, he tossed the whole load over into the river. 
 
 Another anecdote shows, however, that a bright 
 genius occasionally appeared among them. A "'states- 
 man " (an " estatesman," or small proprietor) went 
 one day to a distant fair, or sale, and brought home 
 what neither he nor his neighbours had ever seen be- 
 fore — a pair of stirrups. Home he came jogging with 
 his feet in his stirrups, but, by the time he had reached 
 his own door, he had jammed his feet in so fast that 
 they would not come out. There was greai alarm 
 and lamentation ; but as it could not be helped now, 
 the good man sat on his horse in the pasture for a day 
 or two, his family bringing him food, till the eldest 
 son, vexed to see the horse suffering by exposure, pro- 
 
THE BORROWDALE CUCKOO. 67 
 
 posed to bring them both into the stable. This was 
 done ; and there sat the farmer for several days, his 
 food being brought to him as before. At length it 
 struck the second son that it was a pity not to make 
 his father useful and release the horse; so he proposed 
 to carry him, on the saddle, into the house. By 
 immense exertion it was done ; the horse being taken 
 alongside the midden in the yard to ease the fall, and 
 the good man found himself under his ow-n roof again, 
 spinning wool in a corner of the kitchen. There the 
 mounted man sat spinning, through the cleverness of 
 his second son, till the lucky hour arrived of the 
 return of the youngest son, who was a scholar — a 
 learned student from St. Bees. After duly considering 
 the case he gave his counsel. He suggested that his 
 father should draw his feet out of his shoes. This 
 was done, amid the blessings^ of the family, and the 
 good man was restored to his occupation and to 
 liberty. The wife was so delighted that she said if 
 she had a score of children, and had to begin life 
 again she would make them all scholars. 
 
 Another native genius on one occasion came to a 
 conclusion so striking that it is doubtful whether any 
 University could rival it. A stranger came riding into 
 the dale on a mule, and being bound for the moun- 
 tains, went up the pass on foot, leaving the animal in 
 the care of the host. The host had never seen such 
 a creature before, nor had his neighbours. Fearing 
 mischief, they consulted the wise man of the dale, for 
 they kept a Sagum, or medicine man, to supply their 
 deficiencies. He came, and after an examination of 
 the mule, drew a circle round it, and consulted his 
 books, while his charms were burning, and at length 
 announced that he had found it out; the creature must 
 be, he concluded, a peacock. So Borrowdale could 
 then boast, without a rival, of a visit from a stranger 
 who came riding on a peacock. 
 
 F 2 
 
68 A RIDE OVER SKIDDAW IN 1 794. 
 
 HAMLET OF STAIR. 
 
 The employment of the inhabitants of Stair, about 
 2^ miles from Keswick, at one time were fully occu- 
 pied in woollen manufacture — an ancient staple of the 
 district, as is shown by the inscription which has come 
 down from the olden time, engraved on a flagstone : — 
 
 " May God Almighty grant His aid 
 To Keswick and its woollen trade." 
 
 Near the mill is a farm-house, said to have been built 
 by the celebrated General Fairfax, whose initials are 
 cut on the stone over the entrance door. 
 
 DESCRIPTION OF THE SCENERY IN A RTDE 
 OVER SKIDDAW IN 1794. 
 
 Having engaged a guide, andVith horses accustom- 
 ed to the labour, we began to ascend this tremendous 
 mountain by a way which makes the summit six miles 
 from Keswick. Passing through bowery lanes, luxu- 
 riant with mountain ash, holly, and a variety of beau- 
 tiful shrubs, to a broad, open common, a road led us 
 the foot of Latrigg, or, as it is called by the country 
 to people, Skiddaw's Cub, a large round hill, covered 
 with heath, turf, and browsing sheep. A narrow path 
 now wound along steep green precipices, the beauty 
 of which prevented what danger there was from being 
 perceived. Derwentwater was concealed by others 
 that rose above them, but that part of the vale of Kes- 
 wick which separates the two lakes and spreads a rich 
 level of three miles was immediately below, Cros- 
 thwaite Church nearly in the centre, with the vicarage 
 rising among the trees. More under shelter of 
 Skiddaw, where the vale spreads into a sweet retired 
 nook, lay the house and grounds of Ormathwaite. 
 
 Beyond the level opened a ghmpse of Bassen- 
 thwaite-water, a lake which may be called elegant, 
 
A RIDE OVER SKIDDAW IN 1 794. 69 
 
 bounded on one side by well-wooded rocks, and on 
 the other by Skiddaw. 
 
 Soon after we rose above the steeps which had 
 concealed Derwentwater, and it appeared Avith all its 
 enamelled banks, sunk deep amidst a chaos of moun- 
 tains, and surrounded by ranges of fells not visible 
 from below. On the other hand, the more cheerful 
 lake of Bassenthwaite expanded at its entire length. 
 Having gazed awhile on this magnificent scene, we 
 pursued the path, and soon after reached the brink of 
 a chasm, on the opposite side of which wound our 
 future track, for the ascent is here in an acutely zigzag 
 direction. The horses carefully picked their steps 
 along the narrow precipice, and turned the angle that 
 led them to the apposite side. 
 
 At length, as we ascended, Derwentwater dwindled 
 on the eye to the smallness of a pond, while the 
 grandeur of its amphitheatre was increased by new 
 ranges of dark mountains, no longer individually 
 great, but so from accumulation ; a scenery to give 
 ideas of the breaking up of a world. Other precipices 
 soon hid it again, but Bassenthwaite continued to 
 spread immediately below us, till we turned into the 
 heart of Skiddaw, and were enclosed by its steeps. 
 "VVe had now lost all tracks, even of the flocks that 
 were scattered over these tremendous wilds. The 
 ^uide conducted us by many curvings among the 
 heathy hills and hollows of the mountain ; but the 
 ascents were such that the horses panted in the slow- 
 est walk, and it was necessary to let them rest every 
 six or seven minutes. An opening to the south at 
 length showed the whole plan of the narrow vales of 
 St. John and Naddale, separated by the dark ridge of 
 rock, called St. John's Rigg, with each its small line of 
 verdure at the bottom, and bounded by enormous 
 grey fells, which we were, however, now high enough 
 to overlook. 
 
 A white speck on the top of St. John's Rigg was 
 
70 A RIDE OVER SKIDDAW IN 1 794. 
 
 pointed out by the guide to be a chapel of ease to 
 Crosthwaite Church, Keswick, which has no less tlian 
 five such scattered among the fells. From this chapel, 
 dedicated to St. John, the rock and the vale have 
 received their name, and our guide told us that 
 Naddale was frequently known by the same title. 
 
 Leaving this view, the mountain soon again shut 
 out all prospect, but of its own valleys and precipices, 
 covered with various shades of turf and moss, and with 
 heath, of which a dark purple w^as the prevailing hue. 
 Not a tree or bush appeared on Skiddaw, nor even a 
 stone wall anywhere broke the simple greatness of its 
 lines. Sometimes we looked into tremendous chasms 
 where the torrent, heard roaring long before it was 
 seen, had worked itself a channel, and fell from ledge 
 to ledge, foaming and shining amidst the dark rock. 
 These streams are sublime from the length and pre- 
 cipitancy of their course, which, hurrying the sight 
 with them into the abyss, act, as it were, in sympathy 
 upon the nerves, and to save ourselves from following 
 we recoil from the view with involuntary horror. Of 
 such, however, we saw only two, and those by some 
 departure from the usual course up the mountain ; but 
 everywhere met gushing springs, till we were within 
 two miles of the summit, when our guide added ta 
 the rum in his bottle what he said was the last water 
 we should find in our ascent. 
 
 The air now became very thin, and the steeps still 
 more difficult of ascent ; but it was often delightful to 
 look down into the green hollows of the mountains,, 
 among pastoral scenes, that wanted only some mixture 
 of wood to render them enchanting. 
 
 About a mile from the summit the way was, indeed, 
 dreadfully sublime, lying, for nearly half-a-mile, along 
 the ledge of a precipice, that passed with a swift 
 descent for probably near a mile into a glen within the 
 heart of Skiddaw ; and not a bush or a hillock inter- 
 rupted its vast length, or, by offering a mid-way check 
 
A RIDE OVER SKIDDAW IN 1 794. 7 1 
 
 in the descent, diminished the fear it inspired. The 
 ridgy steeps of Saddleback formed the opposite bound- 
 ary of the glen, and, though really at a considerable 
 distance, had, from the height of the two mountains, 
 such an appearance of nearness that it almost seemed 
 as if we could spring to its side. How much, too, 
 did simplicity increase the sublime of this scenery, in 
 which nothing but mountain, heath, and sky appeared. 
 
 But our situation was too critical or too unusual to 
 permit the just impressions of such sublimity. The 
 hill rose so closely above the precipice as scarcely to 
 allow a ledge wide enough for a single horse. We 
 followed the guide in silence, and, till we gained the 
 more open wild, had no leisure for exclamation. After 
 this the ascent appeared easy and secure, and we were 
 bold enough to wonder that the steeps near the begin- 
 ning of the mountains had excited any anxiety. 
 
 At length, passing the skirts of the two points of 
 Skiddaw which are nearest to Derwentwater, we ap- 
 proached the third and loftiest, and then perceived 
 that their steep sides, together with the ridges which 
 connected them, were entirely covered near the sum- 
 mits with a whitish shivered slate, which threatens to 
 slide down them with every gust of wind. The broken 
 state of this slate makes the present summits seem like 
 the ruins of others ; a circumstance as extraordinary 
 in appearance as difficult to be accounted for. 
 
 The ridge on which we passed from the neighbour- 
 hood of the second summit to the third was narrow, 
 and the eyes reached, on each side, down the whole 
 extent of the mountain, following, on the left, the rocky 
 precipices that impend over the lake of Bassenthwaite, 
 and looking, on the right, into the glens of Saddle- 
 back, far, far below. But the prospects that burst 
 upon us from every part of the vast horizon, when we 
 had gained the summit, were such as we had scarcely 
 dared to hope for, and must now rather venture to 
 enumerate than to describe. 
 
72 A RIDE OVER SKIDDAW IN 1 794- 
 
 We Stood on a pinnacle commanding the whole 
 dome of the sky. The prospects below, each of 
 which had been before considered separately as a great 
 scene, were now miniature parts of the immense land- 
 scape. To the north lay, like a map, the vast tract 
 of low country which extends between Bassenthwaite 
 and the Irish Channel, marked vath the silver circles 
 of the river Derwent, in its progress from the lake. 
 Workington and its white coast were distinctly seen, 
 and Cockermouth seemed almost under the eye. A 
 ■long blackish line, more to the west, resembling a 
 faintly-formed cloud, was said by the guide to be the 
 'Isle of Man, who, however, had the honesty to confess 
 that the mountains of Down, in Ireland, which have 
 been sometimes thought visible, had never been seen 
 by him in the clearest weather. 
 
 Bounding the low country to the north, the wide 
 Solway Frith, with its indented shores, looked like a 
 grey horizon, and the double range of Scottish moun- 
 tains, seen dimly through the mist beyond, like lines 
 of dark clouds above it. The Solway appeared sur- 
 iprisingly near us, though at twenty miles distance, and 
 the guide said that on a bright day its shipping could 
 be plainly discerned. 
 
 Nearly in the north the heights seemed to soften 
 into plains, for no object was there visible through the 
 obscurity that had begun to draw over the further 
 distance ; but, towards the east, they appeared to 
 swell again, and what we were told were the Cheviot 
 hills dawned feebly beyond Northumberland. We 
 now spanned the narrowest part of England, looking 
 from the Irish Channel on the one side to the German 
 Ocean on the other, which latter was, however, so far 
 off as to be discernible like mist. 
 
 Nearer than the county of Durham stretched the 
 ridge of Crossfell, and an indistinct multitude of the 
 Westmorland and Yorkshire highlands, whose lines 
 disappear behmd Saddleback, now evidently pre- 
 
A RIDE OVER SKIDDAW IN 1 7 94. 73 
 
 eminent over Skiddaw, so much so as to exclude many 
 a height beyond it. Passing this mountain in our 
 course to the south, we saw, immediately below, the 
 fells around Derwentwater, the lake itself remaining 
 still concealed in their deep, rocky bosom. Southward 
 and westward, the whole prospect was a " turbulent 
 chaos of dark mountains." All individual dignity 
 was now lost in the immensity of the whole, and 
 every variety of character was overpowered by that of 
 astonishing and gloomy grandeur. 
 
 Over the fells of Borrowdale, and so far to the 
 south, the northern end of Windermere appeared, 
 like a wreath of grey smoke, that spreads along the 
 mountain's side. More southward still, and beyond 
 all the fells and the lakes, Lancaster sands extended 
 to the faintly seen waters of the sea. Then to the 
 west Duddon sands gleamed in a long line among 
 the fells of High Furness, Immediately under the 
 eye lay Bassenthwaite, surrounded by many ranges 
 of mountains, invisible from below. We overlooked 
 all these dark mountains, and saw green cultivated 
 vales over the tops of lofty rocks, and other mountains 
 over these vales in many ridges, whilst innumerable 
 narrow glens were traced in all their windings and 
 seen uniting behind the hills with others that also 
 sloped upwards from the lake, 
 
 The air on this summit was boisterous, intensely 
 cold, and difficult to be inspired, though the day was 
 below warm and serene. It was dreadful to look 
 down from nearly the brink of the point on which wc 
 stood, upon the lake of Bassenthwaite and over a 
 sharp and separated ridge of rocks that, from below, 
 appeared of tremendous height, but now seemed not 
 to reach half way up Skiddaw ; it was almost as if 
 The precipitation might down stretch 
 Below the beam of sight. 
 
 Under the lee of an heaped-up pile of slates, formed 
 by the customary contribution of one from every 
 
74 A MOUNTAIN DELUGE, 
 
 visitor, we found an old man sheltered, whom we took, 
 to be a shepherd, but afterwards learned was a farmer, 
 and, as people in this neighbourhood say, a " 'states- 
 man," that is, had land of his own. He was a native,, 
 and still an inhabitant of an adjoining vale ; but so 
 laborious is the enterprise reckoned that, though he 
 had passed his life within view of the mountain, this 
 was his first ascent. He descended with us for part 
 of our way, and then wound off towards his own valley,, 
 stalking amidst the wild scenery, his large figure wrapt 
 in a dark cloak, and his steps occasionally assisted by 
 a long iron pronged pike, with which he had pointed, 
 out distant objects. 
 
 In the descent it was mteiesling to observe each 
 mountain below gradually re-assuming its dignity, the 
 two lakes expandmg into spacious surfaces, the many 
 little valleys that sloped upwards from their margins 
 recovering their variegated tints of cultivation, the 
 cattle again appearing in the meadows, and the woody 
 promontories changing from smooth patches of shade 
 into richly tufted summits. At about a mile from the 
 top a great difference was perceptible in the climate, 
 which became comparatively warm, and the summer 
 hum of bees was again heard among the purple heath- 
 
 We reached Keswick about four o'clock, after five 
 hours passed in this excursion, in which the care of 
 our guide greatly lessened the notion of danger. 
 
 A MOUNTAIN DELUGE. 
 
 On the Helvellyn range of mountains, on August 
 22nd, 1749, a most remarkable flood happened — 
 caused by impestuous rains — which descended into 
 the Vale of St. John, near the celebrated Castle rock, 
 which tradition had that, if a traveller advances, 
 certain genii who govern the place, by virtue of 
 their supernatural arts and necromancy, did strip 
 
A MOUNTAIN DELUGE. 75. 
 
 of all its beauties, and by enchantment transform 
 the magic walls, and which is celebrated by Sir 
 Walter Scott, in his " Bridal of Triermain, a lover's 
 tale. " The clouds discharged their torrents like 
 a waterspout ; the streams from the mountains 
 uniting, at length became so powerful a body, as 
 to rend up the soil, gravel, and stones, to a pro- 
 digious depth, and bear with them mighty frag- 
 ments of rock; several cottages were swept away from 
 the declivities where they had stood in safety for a 
 century ; the vale was deluged, and many of the in- 
 habitants with their cattle were lost. A singular 
 providence protected many lives : a little school where 
 all the youths of the neighbourhood were educated, 
 at the instant crowded with its flock, stood in the very 
 line of one of these torrents ; but the hand of God, in 
 a miraculous manner, stayed a rolling rock, in the 
 midst of its dreadful course, which would have crushed 
 the whole tenement with its innocents ; and by its 
 stand, the floods divided, and passed on this hand and 
 on that, insulating the school-house and leaving the 
 pupils and their master, trembhng at once for the 
 dangers escaped and as spectators of the horrid havoc 
 in the valley, and the tremendous floods which en- 
 compassed them on every side. ^4 It began with most 
 terrible thunder and lightning, the precedmg day 
 having been extremely sultry ; the inhabitants for two 
 hours before the breaking of the cloud, heard a strange 
 noise, like the wind blowing in the tops of high trees. 
 It was thought at the time to have been caused by a 
 large body of water, which, by the lightning inces- 
 santly rarifying the air, broke at once on the tops of 
 the mountains and descended upon the valley below, 
 which is about three miles long, half a mile broad, and 
 hes nearly north and south, being closed on the east 
 and west sides with prodigious high, steep, and rocky 
 mountains. Legburthwaite Fells, on the east side, 
 received almost the whole cataract, for the extent of 
 
76 ECHOES OF THE LAKES AND MOUNTAINS. 
 
 water did not extend above a mile in length : it chiefly 
 swelled four small brooks, but to so amazing a degree, 
 that the largest of them, called Catchety Gill swept 
 away a mill and other edifices in five minutes, leaving 
 the places where they stood covered with fragments of 
 rock and rubbish three or four yards deep, insomuch 
 that one of the mill-stones has never yet been found. 
 During the violence of the storm, the fragments of 
 rock, which rolled down the mountain, choked up the 
 whole course of this brook, but the water forcing its 
 way through a shivery rock, formed a chasm four 
 yards wide and about eight or nine deep. The brooks 
 lodged such quantities of gravel and sand on the mea- 
 dows, that they are irrecoverably lost. Many large 
 pieces of rock were carried a considerable way into 
 the fields, some larger than a team often horses could 
 move, and one of them measuring nineteen yards 
 about. 
 
 ECHOES OF THE LAKES AND MOUNTAINS. 
 
 The surprising echoes which the report of a cannon, 
 a fowling piece, a key bugle, or a band of music will 
 excite is something marvellous and beyond conception 
 on Derwent Lake, of a calm summer or autumn even- 
 ing, when the surface of the water is as placid as a 
 mirror. 
 
 A visitor to the Lake District describes his impres- 
 sions as follows . " Whilst we sat to regale, the barge 
 put off from shore to a station where the finest echoes 
 were to be obtained from the surrounding mountains. 
 The vessel was provided wdth six brass cannon, 
 mounted on swivels ; on discharging one of these 
 pieces the report was echoed from the opposite rocks, 
 where, by reverberation, it seemed to roll from cliff to 
 cliff and return through every cave and valley, till the 
 decreasing tumult gradually died away upon the ear. 
 
KCHOES OF THE LAKES AND MOUNTAINS 77 
 
 The instant it had ceased, the sound of every distant 
 waterfall was heard ; but for an instant only, for the 
 momentary stillness was interrupted by the returning 
 echo on the hills behind, where the report was repeated 
 like a peal of thunder bursting over our heads, 
 continuing for several seconds, flying from haunt to 
 haunt, till once more the sound gradually declined; — 
 again the voice of waterfalls possessed the interval, — 
 till, to the right, the more distant thunder arose upon 
 some other mountain, and seemed to take its way up 
 every winding dell and creek, sometimes behind, on 
 this side, or on that, in wondrous speed, running its 
 dreadful course. When the echo leached the moun- 
 tains within the line and channel of the breeze, it 
 was heard at once, on the right and left, at the 
 extremities of the lake. In this manner was the report 
 of every discharge re-echoed seven distinct times. 
 
 At intervals we were relieved from this entertain- 
 ment, which consisted of a wondrous tumult and 
 grandeur of confusion, by the music cf two French 
 horns, whose harmony was repeated from every recess 
 which echo haunted on the borders of the lake ; — 
 here the breathings of the organ was imitated ; there 
 the bassoons with clarionets ; in this place, from the 
 harsher sounding cliffs, the cornet , in that, from the 
 wooded creek, amongs* the caverns and the waterfalls, 
 we heard the soft toned lute, accompanied with the 
 languishing strains of enamoured nymphs : whilst in 
 the copse and grove was still retained the music of 
 the ho'ns. All this vast theatre was possessed by 
 innumerable ccrial beings, who breathed celestial har- 
 mony. 
 
 As we finished our repast, a general discharge of 
 the guns roused us to new astonishment. Although 
 we had heard with great surprise the former echoes, 
 this exceeded them so much, that it seemed in- 
 credible , for on every hand the sounds were rever- 
 berated and returned from side to side, so as to give 
 
78 CHRISTMAS IN CUMBERLAND. 
 
 the semblance of that confusion and horrid uproar, 
 which the falling of these stupendous rocks would 
 occasion, if, as by some internal combustion, they were 
 lent to pieces and hurled into the lake. 
 
 At the present time, a cannon is kept at the Lodore 
 Hotel, Derwentwater, which is fired, at a small cost, on 
 request being made to the host, and the echoes pro- 
 duced by it in favourable weather are extraordinary, 
 varying from nme to twelve distinct reverberations. 
 
 CHRISTMAS IN CUMBERLAND, 
 
 "No where," says Hone, in his Year Book (1832), 
 ^' does the Christmas season produce more heart- 
 inspiring mirth than among the inhabitants of Cum- 
 berland. The farmer may be seen with his hands 
 enveloped in huge mittens, thrust half-way into his 
 breeclies pockets, and his fustian jacket buttoned 
 well up under his cliin, jogging merrily along to his 
 daily labour, singing or whistling as he goes, whilst 
 "his jolly red face, scarcely perceivable on account of 
 the dense fog, appears like ' the sun dimly seen 
 through a mist.' The dairy-maid, with her ' geggin ' 
 (milk-pail) in her hand, hurries, shivering through the 
 cold, to tlie ' byre ' (cow-house), where the delightful 
 smell and genial warmth of the cows which she 
 sits down to milk, occasion her to observe — ' it's 
 worth while coming thro' t' snaw a' purpose to enjoy 
 t' pleesur o' gittin' among t' byre.' This is con- 
 tradicted : The lad who is ' mucking the byre,' and 
 who is obliged to issue out at the door ever minute to 
 throw the dirt from his 'muck-fork ' on to t' 'midden' 
 (dunghill) grumbles, and says ' she wadn't say sae, if 
 she hed his wark t' du'; and she, of course, from some 
 old grudge she has against him, is greatly pleased at 
 his mortification. 
 
 " The frozen ' tarns ' (small lakes or ponds may be 
 seen covered with boys, some with wisps of straw 
 
CHRISTMAS IN CUMBERLAND. 79 
 
 brushing off the snow, others sliding in their wooden 
 clogs, which are more convenient for this purpose than 
 shoes. They, exhorting each other to ' keep the pot 
 boiling,' till perhaps one of them falls, and the next, 
 on account of the velocity, not being able to stop, 
 stumbles over him ; and so on, until most of them lie 
 rolling in a heap together, to the great joy of their 
 comrades, who cry out, ' my pot boils over,' and with 
 all their might endeavour to prevent them from 
 getting up. Sliding by moonlight is very common 
 here, because the men, not having been able to leave 
 work in the day time, think it a fine opportunity to 
 enjoy their favourite amusement of ' shurlin.' 
 
 " On stepping into the 'laithe' (barn), we may there 
 see two stout hearty fellows, opposite to each other, 
 alternately belabouring the ground with their flails 
 till it rings again, whilst the straw, chaff, and corn fly 
 about in all directions. At intervals they stop to pay 
 their respects to a brown jug in the corner, which 
 contains either home-brewed ale or churned milk. 
 
 " In the farmhouse we may find the good dame 
 and her rosy-cliecked daughters busied in preparing 
 mince-pies, raised pies, tarts, and other good things, 
 which indicate that something particular is about to 
 take place. 
 
 "In short, with Christmas eve commences a regular 
 series of ' festivities and merry-makings.' Night after 
 night, if you want tlie farmer or his family, you must 
 look for them anywhere but at home, and in the 
 different homes that you pass at one, two, or three in 
 the morning — should you happen to be out so late — 
 5^ou will find candles and fires still unextinguished. At 
 Christmas, every farmer gives two ' feasts,' one called 
 ' t' auld foaks' neet,' which is for those who are married, 
 and the other ' t' young foaks' neet,' for those who are 
 single. Suppose you and I, sir, take the liberty of 
 attending one of these feasts unasked (which by-the-bye 
 is considered no liberty at all in Cumberland) and see 
 
8o THE ONLY CUMBERLAND MARTYR, 
 
 what is going on. Upon entering the room we behold 
 several card parties, some at ' whist,' others at ' loo ' 
 (there called ' lant ') or any other game that may suit 
 their fancy. You will be surprised on looking over the 
 company to find that there is no distinction of persons. 
 Masters and servants, rich and poor, humble and lofty, 
 all mingle together without restraint ; all cares are for- 
 gotten, and each one seems to glory in his own enjoy- 
 ment and in that of his fellow creatures. It is 
 pleasant to find ourselves in such society, especially 
 as it is rarely in one's life that such opportunities 
 offer. Cast your eyes towards the sideboard, and 
 there see that large bowl of punch, which the good 
 wife is pressing her guests to partake of, with apples, 
 oranges, biscuits, and other agreeable eatables in 
 plenty. The hospitable master welcomes us with a 
 smiling countenance, and requests us to take seats 
 and join one of the tables. 
 
 " In due time some one enters to tell the company 
 that supper is waiting, thither we adjourn, and find the 
 raised and mince pies, all sorts of tarts, and all cold, 
 except the welcomes and entrees — with cream, ale, 
 etc, in abundance; in the midst of all a large goose 
 pie, which seems to say, ' cut and come again.' 
 
 " After supper, the party return to the card room, 
 sit there for two or three hours longer, and afterwards 
 make the best of their way home to ' take a good long 
 nap,' and prepare for the same scene the next night. 
 At these Cumberland feasts intoxication is entirely 
 out of the question — it never happens." 
 
 THE ONLY CUMBERLAND MARTYR. 
 
 Cumberland had one native, who, going up to 
 London, first found a husband, and then met with 
 martyrdom. This was a woman, one Elizabeth Foster. 
 She was born at Greystoke ; her maiden surname was 
 unknown. In London she was married to John 
 
CUMBERLAND MOSS-TROOPERS. 8 1 
 
 Foster, cutler, of the Parish of St. Bride, in Fleet- 
 street, and being summoned before Bishop Bonner (of 
 cruel memory) for not coming to church, was im- 
 prisoned, and strictly examined. Being moved by 
 the Bishop to desert her answers, she replied: " I will 
 not go from them by God's grace." Hereupon she 
 was condemned, and in the fifty-fifth year of her age 
 was burnt at Smithfield with six others, all in one fire, 
 on January 27th, 1556. 
 
 CUMBERLAND MOSS-TROOPERS. 
 
 Fuller, in his " History of the Worthies of England," 
 thus quaintly describes these troublesome people 
 (1662): — "So strange the condition of their living, 
 if considered in their o?-iginal, mcrease, height, decay, 
 and ruine. 
 
 " I. Original. I conceive them the same called 
 borderers in Mr. Cambden, and charactered by him to 
 be a wild and warlike people : they are called Moss- 
 Troopers, because dwelHng in the mosses and riding in 
 troops. They dwell in the bounds, or meeting of two 
 kingdomes, but obey the laws of neither. They come 
 to church as seldome as the 29th of February comes 
 into the kalendar. 
 
 " 2. Increase. When England and Scotland were 
 united in Great Britain, they that formerly lived by 
 hostile incursions betook themselves to the robbing of 
 their neighbours. Their sons are free of the trade by 
 their fathers copy ; they are like unto Job (not in 
 piety zxi^ patience), but in sudden plenty and poverty; 
 sometimes having flocks and herds in the morning, 
 none at night, and perchance many again next day. 
 They may give for their motto vivitar ex rapta, stealing 
 from their honest neighbours what sometimes they 
 regain. They are a nest of hornets — strike one and 
 stir all of them about your ears. Indeed, if they 
 promise safely to conduct a traveller, they will perform 
 
82 AN UNFORTUNATE EARL OF CARLISLE. 
 
 it with the fidelity of a Turkish janizary, otherwise 
 wo be to him that falleth into their quarters. 
 
 " 3. Height, amounting forty years since to some 
 thousands. These compelled the vicinage to purchase 
 their security by paying a constant rent unto them. 
 When in their greatest height they had two great 
 enemies, the laws of the land and the Lord William 
 Howard of Naworth. He sent many of them to 
 Carlisle ; to that place where the officer always doth his 
 work by daylight. Yet these Moss- Troopers, if possibly 
 they could procure the pardon for a condemned 
 person of their company, would advance great sums 
 out of their common stock; who, in such a case, cast in 
 their lots amongst themselves, and all have one purse. 
 
 " 4. .Decay, caused by the wisdome, valour, and 
 diligence of the Right Honourable Charles Lord 
 Howard Earl of Carlisle, who routed these English 
 Tories with his regiment. His severity unto them 
 will not only be excused, but commended by the 
 judicious, who consider how our great lawyer doth 
 describe such persons who are solemnly outlaw'd. 
 ' Thenceforivard [after they are outlaw'd] they wear a 
 wolf's-head, so that they lawfully may be destroyed 
 without any judiciall inquisition, as who carry their 
 own condemnation about them, and deservedly die with- 
 out law because they refused to live according to law. 
 
 5. Ruine. Such the success of this worthy Lord's 
 severity that he made a thorough reformation amongst 
 them, and the ringleaders being destroyed, the rest 
 are reduced to legall obedience, and so I trust will 
 continue." 
 
 AN UNFORTUNATE EARL OF CARLISLE. 
 
 In the reign of Edward II., Andreas de Harcla, 
 born at Harcla, was created Earl of Carlisle for his 
 eminent services at Boroughbridge, where he killed 
 Humphrey Bohun, Earl of Hereford, and took Thomas 
 
OLD CUMBERLAND PROVERBS. 83 
 
 Plantagenet, Earl of Lancaster, with many others of 
 the nobihty, prisoners, and delivered them to the king. 
 For his prowess in this battle the Isle of Man was also 
 bestowed upon him. " Next year," says Fuller, " I 
 know not upon what discontentment, he fell into 
 private confederacy with the king's foes, the Scots, 
 for which he was taken and condemned. Now lest 
 the nobihty of others should by secret sympathy suffer, 
 in his disgraceful death, the Earl was first parted from 
 the Man, and his honour severed from his person, by 
 a solemn degradation, having his knightly spurs hewed 
 off from his heels, which done he was hang'd, drawn 
 and quartered." 
 
 OLD CUMBERLAND PROVERBS. 
 
 " If Skiddaw hath a cap, 
 Scruffell wots full well of that." 
 
 "There are two neighbour hills," explains Fuller, 
 in his "Worthies of England," "the one in the county, 
 the other in Anandale, in Scotland. If the former 
 be capp'd with clouds and foggy mists, it will not be 
 long before rain falls on the other. 
 
 " When thy neighbour's house doth burn, 
 Take heed the next be not thy turn." 
 
 Says Fuller on this proverb : " The Cumberianders 
 have found the truth hereof by their sad experience 
 in our Civil Wars, paying dear for their vicinity with 
 Scotland. 
 
 " Skiddaw, Llewellyn, and Carticand, 
 Are the highest hills in all England." 
 
 It is difficult to reconcile this rhyme with another 
 which is met with in the same author (Cambden) — 
 " Ingleborrow, Pendle, and Penigent, 
 Are the highest hills hetwttn Scotland and Trent." 
 
 But in order of an expedient betwixt them, we may 
 G — 2 
 
84 THE WONDERFUL DANCING MASTER. 
 
 observe, first, that every county is given to magnify 
 (not to say altify) their own things therein. Secondly, 
 that the survey goes according to the guess of men's 
 eyes (as never exactly measured), variable according 
 to several apprehensions. Thirdly, some hills are 
 higher in view, rising almost perpendicularly all of a 
 sudden by themselves, whilst the invisible greatness 
 of others are not heeded so much : which moimt with 
 the country about them, creeping up insensibly by 
 degrees. 
 
 BEN WELLS, THE WONDERFUL DANCING 
 MASTER. 
 The people of Westmorland and Cumberland, as 
 is well known, are very fond of athletic exercises, and 
 extraordinary powers are still developed among them. 
 During the long life of Wordsworth in this region, 
 there was one man more famous among the common 
 folk than he, namely, Ben Wells, for fifty years dancing 
 master and fiddler to the country people of Cumber- 
 land. Ben was the kind of man who, in a more pri- 
 mitive time, gave country folk their legends. The 
 instrument being changed, Ben might have been the 
 original of the boy in " A Merry Geste of the Frere 
 and the Boye," who had a magic pipe — 
 " All that may the pipe here 
 Shall not themselfe stere, 
 But laugh and lepe about." 
 
 He not only made cows and milkmaids dance, but so 
 wrought on a friar that he capered until bit by bit he 
 lost 
 
 " Ills cope and scapelary 
 A.nd all his other wede." 
 
 Mr. Craig Gibson, F.S.A., has written (1869) a lyric 
 about Ben Wells in the Cumberland dialect, and in a 
 note says : — " The last time I met him was about 
 twenty years ago in the bar parlour of an inn in the 
 southern part of the lake district, where the strains of 
 
THE GIANT OF TROUTBECK PARK. 85 
 
 his fiddle, produced at my request, caused such 
 excitement that a general and very uproarious dance 
 {of males only) set in, and was kept up with such 
 energy that, the space being confined, the furniture 
 was seriously damaged, and Ben was at last ejected 
 by the landlady, as the readiest — indeed, the only — 
 method of putting a stop to the riot. He was light, 
 muscular, and springy, and in his earlier years wonder- 
 fully swift of foot, so much so, that the late Dr. 
 Johnstone, of Cockermouth, told me that he once (at 
 Scale Hill) saw him, without any assistance, run down 
 and capture a wild rabbit — a proof of activity rarely 
 paralleled." We here quote two verses of Mr, 
 Gibson's poem upon this celebrated Cumberland 
 character : — 
 
 Ben Wales's fiddle many a neet 
 
 Gev weel-oiled springs to t' heaviest hecL, 
 For few cud whyet hod the'r feet 
 
 "When Ben struck up his heartenin' reels. 
 Wid elbow-room an" rozel't weel, 
 
 Swinge ! how he'd mak fvvoke kev an' prance. 
 An' nowt cud match t' sly fiddle squeal 
 
 At' signal'd kiss i' t' cushion-dance. 
 
 Fwokes ways turn different t' langer t' mair, 
 
 An' what lang sen, was reets grown wrang ; 
 We're measl on us ower fine to care 
 
 For heamly dance, teun, tial, or sang, 
 An' nowte's mead verra lastin' here ; 
 
 T' best bow-hand growes ould and fails, 
 An" •' listest legs git num' an' queer. 
 
 Few last &a wcel as auld Ben Wales. 
 
 THE GIANT OF TROUTBECK PARK. 
 
 Harriet Martineau's account of this giant is as 
 follows : — " Tradition tells of a giant, a man of 
 amazing strength, who lived in Troutbeck Park, in the 
 time of Henry IV. He begged from house to house 
 till he came there, but finding an empty dwelling he 
 took possession. This house had been forfeited to the 
 
86 THE " MORTAL MAN " INN. 
 
 Crown, and was of so little value that he remained for 
 a time undisturbed. At last a tenant was found, and 
 came to take possession ; but the giant, who was quite 
 uncivilised, and knew no law but strength, prevented 
 him. Upon this he was sent to London, where he so 
 pleased the king by his feats of strength that he was 
 promised anything lie might ask for. His petition 
 was the house in Troutbeck Park, the paddock behind 
 it to get peat for fuel, and liberty to cut wood in 
 Troutbeck Park. It is said that the king asked him 
 what he lived upon, and his reply was, ' Thick pottage 
 and milk, that a mouse might walk upon dry shod, for 
 breakfast, and the sunny side of a wedder for his 
 dinner when he could get it ' {i.e. the whole of the 
 wether). His mother lived with him, and they toiled 
 on these hill-sides, making a livelihood chiefly by cut- 
 ting and burning the common brackens (ferns), from 
 which they obtained a residue which was used in the 
 manufacture of soap. Their graves are said to be 
 discernible near the old Log-house ! This was the 
 estate afterwards given by Charles I. to Huddlestone 
 Phillipson for his services in the civil wars." He was 
 known by the name of Hugh Hird. Among other 
 traditions about this giant, one relates : that alone 
 with his bow and arrows he drove back a party of 
 Scotch marauders. 
 
 THE "MORTAL MAN" INN. 
 
 Somewhat beyond Hogarth's house at Troutbeck 
 stands a memorable inn with the sign of the " Mortal 
 Man." It was said to have had a curious old sign, 
 representing two men, one fat and jolly, the other 
 haggard, with an appropriate four rhyming lines 
 beneath. But this sign has long since disappeared. 
 The inn is now kept by one Isaac Walker, a solid, 
 sensible, honest specimen of a Westmorland yeoman, 
 and one who knew full well the value of the old sign 
 
Hogarth's father's house. 87 
 
 tould he have got it. Isaac had preserved with the 
 greatest care every antique thing about the old inn, 
 such as an oak cupboard (300 years old) in the wall, 
 and some letters on the outside v;all, with date " I. C. 
 1689,." The initials are those of Isaac Cookson, and 
 Isaac Walker's mother was a Cookson. The landlord 
 is fond of repeating the correct version of the lines 
 which were on the sign from which the inn derived its 
 name : — 
 
 "Thou Mortal Man. that lives on bread 
 What is't that makes thy nose so red ? 
 Thou silly ass, that looks so pale 
 It IS by drinking Sally Birkett's ale." 
 
 " It's an old Troutbeck riddle for strangers," Isaac 
 would say to his visitors, "that small as the village 
 seems, it has 300 bulls, constables, and bridges. The 
 township was divided into three parts, called 'hundreds,' 
 and each had a constable, a bull and a. bridge. But 
 old thmgs go. We haven't ghosts nowadays — Trout- 
 beck railway station's too near. I can remember when 
 a boy would run fit to break his neck past an old lime 
 kiln near this, because of a ghost. Somebody mur- 
 dered thereby bemg thrown into the kiln. Bui there 
 are very few superstitions among us now ; and the 
 fewer the better." 
 
 HOGARTHS PATHER'S HOUSE. 
 
 Hogarth the painter's ancestors resided in Trout- 
 beck village. The uncle of that great artist resided 
 here, and was famous in the neiglibourhood for his 
 songs. These were satirical, humorous, and generally 
 about his neighbours The house of Hogarth's father 
 is still standing in the village, and near it two old 
 trees he is said to have planted. It is a dwelling not 
 mean, but uniquely commonplace there ; for the 
 houses of Troutbeck are rather striking, having many 
 gables, and pretty porticoes made of slate stone. The 
 
88 WORDSWORTH AT HOME. 
 
 hcuse where the Hogarth's would have lived, is now 
 that of Mr. George Browne, and contains much quaint 
 old furniture. This charming cottage with its chim- 
 neys transformed into ivy towers, and its walls set with 
 Queen Anne windows, framed in climbing-roses and 
 morning glories, would drive a London pre-Raphaelite 
 " mad with sweet desire." 
 
 WORDSWORTH AT HOME. 
 
 When Isaac Walker (landlord of the " Mortal Man" 
 inn at Troutbeck) was a lad he lived in the service of 
 William AVordsworth, and thus quaintly describes the 
 poet, of whom he was very fond and proud : — " I 
 was put out to service in a family at Ambleside, and 
 when ray master and mistress wanted to travel away 
 in foreign countries, they asked Mr. Wordsworth to 
 take me just to keep me out of mischief. So I staid 
 in his service at Rydal about a year. Mr. Wordsworth 
 was a plain-looking man, with thin face and large 
 features, especially a pretty big nose. He lived very 
 plainly. He had not a bit of pride and would talk 
 familiarly but gravely with servants. He use to talk 
 with me kindly and familiarly, and I had a warm 
 affection for him. Pie liked to be out of doors when- 
 ever he could. Sometimes he was picking up things 
 to look at them, and then he was talking to things in a 
 very queer way. I can see him now : following a 
 bumble-bee all over the garden ; he puts his hands 
 behind him this way, and then bends over towards 
 the bee, and wherever it went he followed, making a 
 noise like it — ' Boom-oom-oom-oom.' " (Isaac Walker 
 would here imitate the action and the sound perfectly, 
 but said he could never get the bees' sound so rich 
 as Mr. Wordsworth had it.) " He would stick to that 
 bee," Isaac continued, " long and long, until it went 
 away ; you might go away and come back, and still 
 you would see him striding after that bee, with his 
 
THE CUSHION DANCE. 89 
 
 mouth down towards it, and hear his 'Boom-oom-oom. 
 But there was nothing he didn't take notice of. I 
 don't remember so well his friends who used to come 
 and see him ; the one I remember most was Mr. 
 Hartley Coleridge, who was a little fellow — carried his 
 head on one side. I remember well Professor Wilson ; 
 he was a splendid man, very active and strong. * The 
 Mortal Man ' was his favourite inn over here ; but 
 that was before my time. I was sorry to leave Kydal 
 Mount when the time came." 
 
 A GREAT BULL FIGHT. 
 
 All the wars of Caesar have hardly so lai ge a place 
 in their traditions as a certain famous contest between 
 a Troutbeck bull and an Orrest Head bull. Josiah 
 Browne of the latter place had a tremendous bull, and 
 some man at Troutbeck had another, and there was 
 so much brag on each side that it was agreed to have 
 a fight between the animals. The terms were that 
 the winner should have the fallen animal, and that 
 they were to meet half way between the two places 
 It was a tremendous battle. The whole country for 
 many miles around gathered, and Josiah came riding 
 on the back of his monster. The Troutbeck bull was 
 prodigious, and fought furiously ; the struggle was like 
 hills hurled against each other, and shook the earth, 
 Finally, the Troutbeck animal fell, and Josiah Browne, 
 having presented it to the poor of Troutbeck, rode 
 back on his victorious bull to Orrest Head. It is safe 
 to say that Rome in her palmiest days never had 
 such a combat as that. 
 
 THE CUSHION DANCE. 
 
 This dance is peculiar to Cumberland, and is the 
 finishing dance of a rural ball or merry night, and is 
 thus performed. A young man, carrying a cushion, 
 
9© MRS. HEMANS' HOME ON WINDERMERE. 
 
 paces round the room in time to an appropriate tune, 
 selects a girl, lays the cushion at her feet, and both 
 kneel upon it and kiss, the fiddler making an extra- 
 ordinary squeal during the operation. The girl then 
 takes the cushion to another young man, who kisses 
 her as before, and leaves her free to " link " with the 
 first, and march round the room. This is repeated 
 till the whole party is brought in, when they all form 
 a circle and " kiss out " in the same manner, some- 
 times varying it by the kissers sitting on two chairs, 
 back to back, in the middle of the ring, and kissing 
 over their shoulders — a trying process to bashful 
 youth of either sex. 
 
 MRS. HEMANS' HOME ON WINDERMERE. 
 
 This gifted woman in 1830 paid a visit to William^ 
 Wordsworth, and was so enchanted with lake scenery 
 and solitude that for some time she made and called 
 her picturesque trte-err?bowered cottage " Dove Nest." 
 Here the sweet poetess sought repose in her declining 
 years ; and thus she apostrophises the locality of her 
 home : — 
 
 O vale and lake, within your mountain urn, 
 Smiling so tranquilly, and set so deep I 
 Oft doth your dreamy loveliness return, 
 Colouring the tender shadows of my sleep 
 With Hght Elysian ; for the hues that steep 
 Your shores in melting lustre, seem to float 
 On golden clouds from spirit-lands remote-^ 
 Isles of the blest — and in our memory keep 
 Their place with holiest harmonies. 
 
 In one of her letters she thus alludes to " Dove's 
 Nest " : — " I am writmg to you from an old-fashioned 
 alcove in the little garden, round which the sweetbriar 
 and the rose tree have completely run wild ; and I 
 look down from it upon lovely Windermere, which 
 seems at this moment even like another sky, so truly 
 is every summer cloud and tint of azure pictured irh 
 
BORROWDALE EAGLE STORIES. 91 
 
 its transparent mirror. I am so delighted with the 
 spot that I scarcely know how I shall leave it. The 
 situation is one of the deepest retirement ; but the 
 bright lake before me, with all its fairy barks and 
 sails, glancing like things of life over its blue water, 
 prevents the soUtude from being overshadowed by 
 anything like sadness." 
 
 But however much she loved the place it was not 
 her destiny to die here. At the early age of 41 she 
 died in Dublin, and was there interred in St. Anne's 
 Church. Over her grave were inscribed some lines 
 from one of her own dirges : — 
 
 Calm on the bosom of thy God; 
 
 Fair spirit rest thee now ; 
 Even while with us thy footsteps trocl, 
 
 His seal was on thy brow. 
 
 Dust, to its narrow home beneath ; 
 
 Soul, to its place on high ; 
 They that have seen thy look in death 
 
 No more may fear to die. 
 
 BORROWDALE EAGLE STORIES. 
 
 There is a succession of wild and romantic scenes 
 in the gorge of Borrowdale. Grange, a small village 
 is delightfully situate on the west side of the river Der- 
 went, about a mile above its entrance into the lake. It 
 is about four miles from Keswick. Here Banks, tl:e 
 philosopher, was born. Castle-crag, under which lies this 
 sweet village, appears in the centre of an amphitheatre 
 of mountains threatening to block up the pass into 
 Borrowdale. The Saxons in turn occupied the fortress 
 and it was given with all Borrowdale to the Monks of 
 Furness. The Grange was the place where they laid 
 up their grain, and also the salt they made at a salt 
 spring, of which works there are still some vestige 
 below Grange, 
 
 Gray, the poet, speaks with complacency of the hos- 
 pitality of a young farmer at Grange, in whose house 
 
<)2 BORROWDALE EAGLE STORIES. 
 
 he enjoyed a repast of milk, oaten cakes and ale. 
 This farmer, he says, was " the man that last year 
 plundered the eagle's eyrie ; all the dale are up in 
 arms on such an occasion, for they lose abundance of 
 lambs yearly, not to mention hares, partridges, grouse, 
 &-C. He was let down from the cliff in ropes to the 
 shelf of the rock on which the nest was built, the 
 people above shouting and hallooing to frighten the old 
 birds, which flew screaming around but did not dare 
 to attack him. He brought off the eaglet (for there is 
 hardly more than one and an addle egg). The nest 
 was roundish and more than a yard over. Seldom a 
 year passes but they take the brood or eggs, and some- 
 times they shoot one, sometimes the other parent; 
 but the survivor has always found a mate, (probably 
 in Ireland) and they breed near the old place." 
 
 No bird has stronger feelings than the eagle. They 
 are most faithful and affectionate. One mate till 
 death, and one, two, or three eaglets in the eyry 
 generally constitute all the precious family of the im- 
 perial bird. 
 
 The rocky scenes in Borrowdale, where the eagle 
 took up his abode, are most fantastic, and the entrance 
 rugged. One rock elbows out and turns the road 
 directly against another. Here the Derwent, rapid as 
 the Rhone, rolls its crystal streams through all the 
 labyrinth of embattled obstacles. Indeed the scenes 
 here are sublimely terrible, the assemblage of mag- 
 nificent objects so stupendously great, and the arrange- 
 ment so extraordinary curious, that they must excite 
 the most sensible feelings of wonder and surprise, 
 and at once impress the mind with reverential awe 
 and admiration. 
 
 The most gigantic mountains that form the outline 
 of this tremendous landscape, and include Borrowdale, 
 are Eagle-crag, Glaramara, Bull-crag, and Serjeant- 
 crag. On the front of the first, the bird of Jove 
 formerly had his annual nest. 
 
BORROWDALE EAGLE STORIES. 93 
 
 *' Here his dread seat the royal bird hath made 
 To awe the inferior subjects of the shade, 
 Secure he built it for a length of days. 
 Impervious, but to Phoebus' piercing rays ; 
 His young he trains to eye the solar light 
 And soar beyond the fam'd Icarian flight." 
 
 But, even here, the monarch of the air was not safe 
 from the pursuit of man; for in this rocky region were 
 found men who, at great peril to Hfe and limb, were 
 let down, by means of a strong cord, some twenty 
 fathoms or more, to the ledge on which the eagles 
 built their nests. In one hand he carried his iron- 
 headed mountain staff, with which he warded off the 
 frequent and ferocious attacks of the parent birds ; 
 while, with the other, he clung tightly to the slender 
 cord that, to him, separated life from death. 
 Ultimately the brave shepherd usually managed to 
 gain a footing on the slender ledge, and a sickening 
 spectacle presented itself to his view : strewed about in 
 all directions were the remnants of half-eaten lambs, 
 hares, moor game, and ducks, the effluvia of which 
 absolutely thickened the air. Once landed on the 
 ledge, the shepherd commenced to ravage the eyry of 
 its eggs, or the young eaglets, if there were any. If he 
 brought the young ones away alive, he had the birds 
 for his trouble and risk ; if the eggs, his neighbour 
 shepherds gave him five shillings for each egg. When 
 the adventurer failed, then the eaglets were reared, 
 and as soon as strong enough were taken away by 
 the parent birds to some other spot, there to carry 
 on their work of destruction on their own account 
 amongst the shepherds' flocks. 
 
 The eagles which gave their name to the crag in 
 Borrowdale, being disturbed by the proceedings 
 just described, settled themselves on a rock at Sea- 
 thwaite, and afterwards crossed the ridge into Eskdale. 
 One of these eagles once carried off a large sheep dog, 
 but the dog's master espying him, immediately let the 
 bird have the contents of his gun. The shot took 
 
94 THE RESIDENCE OF WILLIAM WILBERFORCE. 
 
 effect, but not before a piece of flesh was torn from 
 the dog's neck. The eagle vanished, but was found 
 a week afterwards on the uplands of Seatoller nearly 
 starved. Its bill had been split by the shot, and its 
 tongue was set fast in the cleft ; it could not make 
 much resistance, and was carried home captive. 
 But when reUeved and restored, it became so violent 
 that it was necessarily killed. Its mate brought a 
 successor from a distance, a much smaller bird, and 
 of a different species. They built however, for 
 fourteen more years in Borrowdale, before they flew 
 over to Eskdale. They were not long left in peace 
 there ; and when the larger bird was at length shot, 
 his mate disappeared entirely. 
 
 " Such devastation," says Harriet Martineau, " as 
 was caused by these birds is not heard of now ; but 
 while there are crags aloft, and lambs in the vales, 
 there will be more or fewer, nobler or nearer, birds of 
 prey. Three gentlemen — two of whom were travelled 
 men and not likely to be mistaken in such a matter 
 — declare that, in 1850, they saw one sweep down 
 Scandale Fell into Kirkstone Pass, and rest on a 
 crag in the vale, some way above Brother's Water. 
 There is, however, a preponderance of disbelief of 
 there being now any nest or settlement of eagles 
 among the mountains of Westmorland and Cumber- 
 land. 
 
 RAYRIGG— THE LAKE RESIDENCE OF 
 
 WILLIAM WILBERFORCE 
 
 Three quarters of a mile from Bowness is Rayrigg, 
 which has more to recommend it to public attention 
 than even its own beautiful scenery for it Avas here 
 that the illustrious Wilberforce, the champion of free- 
 dom to the slave, made his residence whenever he 
 could escape from his Parliamentary duties. Bowness 
 is the port of Windermere, and here the little lake 
 
THE RESIDENCE OF WILLIAM WILBERFORCE. 95 
 
 Steamboats now put up. The most venerable objects 
 in this place, are the old churchyard with its dark yews, 
 and the church, long and low. 
 
 " Not raised in nice proportions was the pile, 
 But large and massy ; for duration built ; 
 "With pillars crowded, and the roof upheld 
 By naked rafters intricately cross'd, 
 Like leafless underboughs, 'mid some thick grove 
 All wither'd by the depth of shade above." 
 
 The chancel window of the church contains very fine 
 painted glass from Furness Abbey. The rectory, 
 which is hardly less venerable than the church, stands 
 at a considerable distance from the village, and is 
 approached through fields and a garden. The old- 
 fashioned porch is there, of which this is said to be 
 the last remaining instance in the whole district, — the 
 roomy, substantial porch, with benches on each side, 
 long enough to hold a little company of parishioners, 
 and a round ivy-clad chimney immediately surmount- 
 ing the porch. Rayrigg, in the immediate vicinity, as 
 we have said, was the residence of William Wilber- 
 force, and for that reason is looked upon with rever- 
 ence by every pilgrim to these romantic shores. By 
 some it is said to resemble Voltaire's Mansion of 
 Ferney, on the Lake of Geneva. In 1788, the last 
 year of Wilberforce's residence in this beautiful spot, 
 he writes to a friend : — "I never enjoyed the country 
 more than during this visit, when, in the early morning, 
 I used to row out alone, and find an oratory under one 
 of the woody islands in the middle of the lake." 
 
 He repeatedly invited his friend, William Pitt, to 
 share for a few weeks, or even days, the delights of a 
 country life with him here, but the Premier was in- 
 variably prevented by the all-absorbing duties of his 
 high station, from taking the relaxation which he 
 would have enjoyed so much. 
 
96 POET gray's description OF GRASMERE. 
 
 THE POET GRAY'S BEAUTIFUL DESCRIP- 
 TION OF GRASMERE. 
 
 The author of the "Elegy in a Country Churchyard," 
 the finest poem in the EngHsh language, in a letter to a 
 friend (1765) thus delightfully describes Grasmere on 
 his visit to the Lakes. Nothing can exceed the beauty 
 and finish of this miniature picture of this beautiful 
 spot, much as has since been written upon it. In 
 his country tours the poet carried with him a plano- 
 convex mirror, which, in surveying landscapes gathers 
 into one confined glance the forms and tints of the 
 surrounding scene. In the letter referred to he says : 
 " Passed by the little chapel of Wiborn, out of 
 which the Sunday Congregation were then issuing. 
 Passed a beck [rivulet] near Dunmail Raise, and 
 entered Westmorland a second time ; now began to 
 see Helmcrag, distinguished from its rugged neigh- 
 bours, not so much by its height as by the strange 
 broken outline of its top, like some gigantic building 
 demolished, and the stones that composed it flung 
 across each other in wild confusion. Just beyond it 
 opens one of the sweetest landscapes that art ever 
 attempted to imitate. The bosom of the mountains 
 here spreading into a broad basin, discovers in the 
 midst Grastnere Water ; its margin is hollowed into 
 ' small bays, with eminences, some of rock some of 
 soft turf,' that half conceal and vary the figure of the 
 little lake they command From the shore a low pro- 
 montory pushes itself into the water; and on it stands 
 a white village, with a parish church rising in the midst 
 of it, having enclosures, corn-fields, and meadows, 
 green as an emerald, with trees, and hedges, and 
 cattle, fill up the whole space from the edge of the 
 water ; and just opposite to you is a large farm-house, 
 at the bottom of a steep smooth lawn, embosomed 
 in old woods, which climb half-way up the mountain 
 sides, and discover above a broken line of crags that 
 
TWO ANCIENT CUMBERLAND BALLADS. 97 
 
 crown the scene. Not a single red tile, no staring 
 gentleman's house breaks in upon the repose of this 
 unsuspected paradise ; but all is peace, rusticity and 
 happy poverty, in its sweetest, most becoming attire." 
 Such was Grassmere when the poet visited it a 
 century ago. 
 
 Tranquil and shut out 
 From ail the strife that shakes a jarring world. 
 
 But now its solitude has given place to the busy hum 
 of human life coming and goings — hotels, lodging- 
 houses, and coaches. 
 
 TWO ANCIENT CUMBERLAND BALLADS. 
 
 I. — GUID STRANG YELL. 
 Our Ellek likes fat bacon weel. 
 
 And haver-bannock pleases Dick ; 
 A cowd-lword meks lal Wully fa'.n, 
 
 And cabbish aye turns Philip sick. 
 Our deame's for gurdle-ceake and :ea, 
 
 And Betty's aw for thick pez-keale ; 
 Let ilk you fancy what he wull, 
 
 Still my delight is guid Strang yelL 
 I ne'er had muckle, ne'er kent wanti 
 
 Ne'er wrang'd a neybor, frien, or kin. 
 My wyfe and bairns 'buin' aw I prize, 
 
 There's music i' their varra din : 
 I labour suin, I labour leate, 
 
 And chearfu' eat my humble meal ; 
 My weage can feed and dead us aw 
 
 And whiles afifords me guid Strang yell.' 
 What's aw the warld without content ? 
 
 Wi' that and health man can't be peer ; . 
 We suin slip off frae friends and foes, 
 
 Then when but fuils wad feght for geer. 
 'Bout kings and consuls gowks may fratch ; 
 
 For me I scwornto vex mysel*, 
 But laugh at courts and ower-grown knaves, 
 
 When I've a hush o' guid Strang yell. 
 
 2. — THE DISAPPOINTED. 
 
 This ancient ballad differs from the fdreg oing inas- 
 much as it is an expression of a true love of the humaa 
 
 H 
 
98 MISS MARTINEAU ON PROFESSOR WILSON. 
 
 heart, rather than the bacchanalian one for the love of 
 "Guid Strang yell." It breathes a sincere and un- 
 selfish maiden's love for a cheerful honest swain : — 
 
 The muin shone breet at nine last neet, 
 
 When Jemmy Sharp cam o'er the muir ; 
 
 Weel did I ken a lover's fit, 
 
 And heard him softly tap the duir : 
 
 My fadder started i' the nuik, 
 
 " Rin, Jenny ! see what's that?" he said ; 
 
 I whispered, "Jemmy come to mworn," 
 
 And then a leame excuse fain meade. 
 
 I went to bed but couldn't sleep. 
 
 This luive sae breaks a body's rest, 
 
 The mwornin dawn'd, then up I gat. 
 
 And seegh'd and aye luik'd towards the west, 
 
 But when, far off, I saw the wood 
 
 Where he unlock'd his heart to me. 
 
 I thaught o' mony a happy hour. 
 
 And then a tear gush'd frae my e'e. 
 
 To neet my fadder's far frae heame, 
 
 And wonnet come this three hourc yet ; 
 
 13ul O, it pours, and I'd be leath 
 
 .That Jemmy sud for me get wet ! 
 
 Vet, if he dis, guid heame-brew'd yell 
 
 Will warm his cheerfu' honest heart ; 
 
 Wi' him, my verra life o' life, 
 
 I's fain to meet, but leath to part. 
 
 MISS MARTINEAU'S DESCRIPTION OF 
 
 PROFESSOR WILSON. 
 
 The Westmorland home of Professor Wilson 
 (better known as "Christopher North") was at 
 Elleray, one of the attractions round and about Win- 
 dermer:^. Here Wilson came after his University 
 career, and spent a merry life ; and here he brought 
 his bride in i8i i. The last of the Professor's servants, 
 " Old James Newby," the gardener, held his post at 
 the old cottage under the tree until 1869. Billy 
 Balmer, the Professor^s favourite boatman, and others, 
 had gone some years before. Observe the fine old 
 sycamore, about which the enthusiastic Professor 
 
MISS MARTINEAU ON PROFESSOR WILSON. 99 
 
 says : " Never in this well wooded world, not even in 
 the days of the Druids, could there have been such 
 another tree ! It would be easier to imagine two 
 Shakspeares. Yet I have heard people say it is far 
 from being a large tree. A small one it cannot be, 
 with a house in its shadow — an unawakened house, 
 that looks as if it were dreaming. True, 'tis but a 
 cottage, a Westmorland cottage. But then it has 
 several roofs shelving away there in the lustra of the 
 loveliest lichens ; each roof with its own assortment of 
 doves and pigeons preening their pinions in the 
 morning pleasance. O, sweetest and shadiest of all 
 sycamores, we love thee beyond all other trees." 
 
 " It is probable,'"' says Harriet Martineau, "that no 
 one sees Storrs Pier without thinking of Professor 
 Wilson ; and, indeed, there is no spot in the neighbour- 
 hood with which his memory and the gratitude of his 
 readers is not associated. Anywhere such a presence 
 is rarely seen ; and it was especially impressive in the 
 places he best loved to haunt. More than one person 
 has said that Wilson reminded them of the first man, 
 Adam ; so full was his large frame of vitality, force, 
 and sentience. His tread seemed to shake the 
 ground, and his glance to pierce through stone walls : 
 and, as for his voice, there was no heart that could 
 stand before it. In his hours of emotion he swept 
 away all hearts whithersoever he would. Not les"> 
 striking was it to see him in a mood of repose, as he 
 v/as seen when steering the packet-boat that used to 
 pass between Bowness and Ambleside, before the 
 steamers were put upon the lake. Sitting motionlv^os, 
 with his hand upon the tiller, in the presence of 
 journeymen and market women, his eye apparently 
 looking beyond everything into nothing, and his 
 mouth closed above his beard, as if he meant never to 
 speak again; he was quite as impressive and immortal 
 an image as he could have been to the students of 
 his moral philosophy class or the comrades of his 
 
lOO THE giant's grave. 
 
 jovial hours. He was known, and with reverence 
 and affection, beside the trout stream, and the moun-' 
 tain tarn, and amidst the deep gloom of Elleray, 
 where he could not bring himself to let a sprig be 
 lopped that his wife had loved. Every old boatman 
 and young angler, every hoary shepherd and primitive 
 dame among the hills of the district, knew him and 
 enjoyed his presence. He made others happy bjy 
 being intensely happy himself when his brighter moods 
 were on him, and when he was mournful no one 
 desired to be gay. He has gone with his joy and his 
 grief; and the region is so much darker in a thousand 
 eyes." 
 
 THE GIANT'S GRAVE. 
 (a remarkable monument of antiquity in 
 
 PENRITH churchyard). 
 
 Penrith Church was rebuilt in 1722; it is a fine 
 structure, distinguished by a neat and elegant sim- 
 plicity. In the churchyard is a remarkable monument 
 of antiquity ; it consists of two upright pillars of stone, 
 about ten feet in height and fifteen feet asunder^ 
 standing in a direction east and west ; on each side 
 are two others of a semicircular form, placed edgewise 
 in the ground. This monument is most likely a 
 sepulchral monument, but whether its origin is to be 
 attributed to the British, Saxons, Romans, or Danes, 
 is not agreed upon by antiquaries. Pennant says : — 
 " These stones seem to have been monumental, and 
 are evidently Christian, as appears on the cross in the 
 capital ; fable says that they were to perpetuate the 
 memory of Cassanius, a hero of gigantic stature, whose 
 body extended from stone to stone ; but it is probable 
 that the space marked by these columns contained 
 several bodies, or might have been a family sepulchre." 
 These conjectures, however, do not appear to be well , 
 supported. The name of the " Giant's Grave." whichi? 
 
ANCIENT USES OF BLAGKLEAD OR WAD. 10 1 
 
 this singular monument has retained through a succes- 
 sion of ages, and the rude sculpture upon one part of 
 it rather favours the traditionary story that it is the 
 tomb of Sir Hugh Csesarius, a man of great courage, 
 who was successful in clearing the forest of Inglewood 
 from the ferocious wild boars that in those remote 
 times infested the neighbouring country. In an age 
 when the stature of a hero was magnified by popular 
 credulity, in proportion to the danger and magnitude 
 of his enterprises, it is not surprising that this valorous 
 knight, who, perhaps, might somewhat exceed the 
 common size, was exalted into a giant. Sandford, in 
 his manuscript account, written about the conclusion 
 of the 1 6th century, relates that he was told by 
 Mr. Page, who was schoolmaster at Penrith from 1581 
 to 1 59 1, that a strange gentleman desired to have 
 some of the principal inhabitants to sup with him, 
 whereupon Mr. Page and some others attended him. 
 The stranger told them that he came to see the 
 antiquities of the place j and, drawing out a paper, 
 said that Sir Hugh Csesarius had a hermitage some- 
 where thereabouts called "Sir Hugh's parlour," and 
 this place was sometime afterwards opened by one 
 William Turner, who there found the great long shank 
 bones of a man, and a broad sword. Not far from 
 this monument stands a pillar called the " Giant's 
 thumb," about six feet high and fourteen inches 
 broad at bottom, the use and design of which have 
 not been discovered. 
 
 ANCIENT USES OF BLACKLEAD OR WAD 
 
 DISCOVERED IN A MINE IN BORROWDALE, 
 
 NEAR KESWICK. 
 
 This mine was discovered near Keswick about 
 17 10. In those days it was a mineral very scarce and 
 not elsewhere to be met with. Camden in his History 
 of England, calls it " That mineral earth or hard shin- 
 
I02 ANCIENT USES OF BLAGKLEAD OR WAD. 
 
 ing stone, which painters use in drawing their lines 
 and shading their pieces in black and white. 
 
 Mr. Robinson in his Natural History of Cumber- 
 land and Westmorland say : — " Its composition is a 
 black, pinguid, and shining earth impregnated with 
 lead and antimony. Its natural uses are both me- 
 chanical and medicinal. It is a present remedy for 
 the colic ; it easeth the pain of gravel, stone, and 
 stranguary ; and for these and the like uses it is much 
 sought up by apothecaries and physicians, who under- 
 stand more of its medicinal uses than I am able to give 
 account of. The manner of the country people's using 
 it is thus : — First, they beat it small into meal, and 
 then take as much of it in white wine or ale, as will 
 lie upon a sixpence, or more, if the distemper require 
 it. It operates by urine, sweat and vomiting. This 
 account I had from those who had frequently used it 
 in their distempers with good success. Besides those 
 uses that are medicinal, it hath many other uses which 
 increase the value of it. At the first discovery of it, 
 the neighbourhood made no other use of it, but for 
 marking their sheep ; but is now made use of to 
 glaze and harden crucibles and other vessels made of 
 earth or clayj that are to endure the hottest fire ; and, . 
 to that end it is wonderfully effectual, which much en- 
 hanceth the price of such vessels. By rubbing it 
 upon iron arms, as guns, pistols, and the like, and ting- 
 ing of them with its colour, it preserves ' them from ' 
 bursting. It is made use of by dyers of cloth, making 
 their blues to stand unalterable. This mundic ore, 
 having little of sulphur in its composition will not 
 flow without a violent heat It produceth a white 
 regulus shining like silver. It cannot be made 
 malleable." 
 
 The discovery of this blacklead or wad mine 
 about Keswick, subsequently became of that impor- 
 tance that a special Act of Parliament was framed to 
 protect them. 
 
SIR WALTER SCOTT'S VISIT TO THE LAKES. I03 
 
 In the Act of Parliament 25 Geo. 2. c. 10, making 
 it felony to break into any mine or wad, hole of wad 
 or black cawke, commonly called blacklead, or to 
 steal any from thence; there is a recital that the seam 
 hath been discovered in one mountain or ridge of 
 hills only in this realm, and that it hath been found 
 by experience to be necessary for divers useful pur- 
 poses, and more particularly in the casting of bomb- 
 shells, round shot, and cannon balls." 
 
 A poet a century ago thus alludes to this famous 
 mine : — 
 
 •' Southward, at distance, see ihe winding vale 
 And rugged mountains of old Borrowdale 
 Whose Black Lead Mine is fam'd through many a coas 
 Nor can whole Europe such another boast. 
 Here the first mountains past, new mountains rise 
 And mountains still behind outbrave the skies ; 
 Adown the rocks, hark how the torrent roars ; 
 And noisy cascades fill the distant shores." 
 
 SIR WALTER SCOTT'S MEMORABLE VISIT 
 TO THE LAKES. 
 In 1825 the illustrious novelist and poet on his re- 
 turn from Ireland, paid a visit to the hospitable house 
 of Mr. Bolton at Storr's Hall on Lake Windermere and 
 met with a gay reception. At this meeting not only 
 Sir Walter Scott and Professor Wilson, but George 
 Canning and William Wordsworth were present. 
 " There was," says Mr. Lockhart (Scott's son-in-law 
 and distinguished biographer) " high discourse inter- 
 mingled with as gay feastings of courtly wit as ever 
 Canning displayed, and a plentiful allowance on all 
 sides of those airy transient pleasantries in which the 
 fancy of poets, however wise and grave, delights to 
 run riot, when they are sure not to be misunderstood. 
 The weather was as Elysian as the scenery. There were 
 brilliant cavalcades through the woods in the mornings, 
 and delicious boatings on the Lake by moonlight, and 
 
104 MODERN USE OF THE WORD ** LAKE." 
 
 the last day the Admiral of the Lake presided over 
 one of the most splendid regattas that ever enlivened 
 Windermere. Perhaps there were not fewer than fifty 
 barges following in the Professor's* radiant procession 
 when it paused at the point of Storr's to admit Mr. 
 Bolton and his guests. The bards of the Lakes 
 (Wordsworth and Wilson) led the cheers that hailed 
 Scott and Canning, and music and sunshine, flags, 
 streamers, and gay dresses, the merry hum of voices, 
 and the rapid splashing of innumerable oars, made up 
 a dazzling mixture of sensations as the flotilla wound 
 its way among the richly foliaged islands, and along 
 bays and promontories peopled into enthusiastic 
 spectators." 
 
 " How soon, alas ! " reflects Charles Mackay, " was 
 the scene to darken for the two most celebrated 
 actors in this splendid scene ! Canning, even at that 
 time, as Scott afterwards remarked, looking old, and 
 haggard, and careworn, and so soon to die ; and Scott 
 himself was at the culminating point of his worldly 
 prosperity ; — already upon the descent : the cloud 
 gathering upon his glory, and the darkness coming, 
 in which he could not work." Canning lived but two 
 years after the gay scene and Sir Walter seven. Mr. 
 and Mrs. Bolton are gone, and Professor Wilson him- 
 self has followed " To that bourne from whence no 
 traveller returns." 
 
 MODERN USE O? THE WORD "LAKE.^ 
 
 About thirty years ago there were not perhaps 
 half-a-dozen persons in Keswick who knew what the 
 word Lake meant, though Lakes and Lake Poets have 
 latterly attracted so much of the attention of the 
 world. It was then either called Daran (that is, 
 Derwent), or Kcswick-Water, but it now seldom 
 
 * The late Professor Wilson. 
 
MODERN USE OF THE WORD "LAKE." J05 
 
 xeceiyes any other name than the Lake, and that of 
 JDaran is scarcely known. 
 
 The following dialogue between a mother and 
 daughter, which Mr. Clarke (an authority on the 
 subject) states to have been actually heard by him, 
 ^affords a good illustration of this assertion, and is 
 valuable at the same time as a specimen of the dialect 
 of the natives. 
 
 Daughter : Oh ! moother, moother, an ye hed been 
 thear, ye wad ha stay'd tew ; seek fine wark ye never 
 saw. Efter dinner, we went to th' lake. 
 
 Mother : Lake ! eigh thou wad lake an ramp and 
 rive o' the cleighs I war'n. Let's luik if nin o' them 
 be roven ? What lake wast ? Tennis or Anthony 
 Blindman ? 
 
 Daughter: Moother, ye dunt vmderstund ma. 
 Went to th' watter, and got ontuet in a booat ; at hed 
 things, like a battelter on aither side ont, at carried it 
 on some way or other ; an we drank finest stuff at 
 ever was, they cawt it cine an wider. 
 
 Mother : Cine and wider, uman, what's tatt ? 
 
 Daughter : What's tatt ? Nay, I knaw nut. 
 
 Mother : What is't like ? 
 
 Daughter : Like, it like ? Like, it's like ! — nay, I 
 knaw nut what it's like ; it's like whey-whig and drinky 
 Jaut far finer. 
 
 Mother: Hang the cine and wider, and the lakes; 
 an ihou hasn't roven the cleighs, nor worn the stock- 
 ing heels out, I kair nut. Gitt te cloggs on, an doff 
 that fine gown, and ligg by the hatt, an aw things ; 
 thou mun full muck to mworn, or gang toth' moss for 
 this skelpin to-day ; it's far better for tha. 
 
 Daughter : O, moother, yon talear, Gweardy, is a 
 canny fellow. 
 
 Mother : Gitt away with the an thy canny fellow,* 
 
 * Explanation. — Cloggs,^OQ% with thick wooden soles, armed 
 at the heels and toes, with plates of iron called cawkers ; yatif 
 pp.e; tni*di must; gangi goj 4Md seafh did so; wud, would ^ 
 
Io6 DR. brown's description of KESWICK. 
 
 ha, have ; seek, such ; zvark, work ; efter, after ; eyh, yea ; lake^ 
 in the north of England means playing ; rive o" the cleighs, tear 
 all thy clothes ; I war'n, warrant or suppose ; luik, look ; nin, 
 none ; roven, torn ; ontuet, upon it ; booat, boat ; hed, had ; 
 battelter, a piece of wood made not much unlike an oar, about 
 four feet long, which the country people beat their linen with 
 when they wash and bleach it ; carrit it on, moved the boat in 
 a manner she could not understand ; caivt, called ; cine and 
 wider, meant for wine and cyder ; twian, woman ; tatt, that ; 
 nut, not ; whey-ivhig, a liquor made of whey, into which is put 
 mint, balm, walnut leaves, &c., which, when properly managed, 
 drinks pleasantly in summer ; / kair not, I care not ; Ui^g, lay, 
 aw, all ; mun, must ; muck, dung ; to-tmvorn, to-morrow ; 
 totK moss, the place where peat fuel is dug ; skelpin, jumping — 
 romping ; tha, thou ; O moother ! yon talear Gtveardy is a 
 canny fellow, O, mother, tailor George is a pretty or hand- 
 some fellow. 
 
 DR. BROWN'S PICTURESQUE DESCRIPTION 
 OF KESWICK. 
 
 The principal place in this large parish, Crosthwaite, 
 in Allerdale-below-Derwent, is the market town of 
 Keswick. The late Dr. Brown (a century ago) in a 
 letter to a friend, describes it in the following elegant 
 and very picturesque manner, and which, to our 
 thinking, stands out for its force and beauty from all 
 other descriptions. He says : — 
 
 " In my way to the north, I passed through Dove- 
 dale, and to say the truth, was disappointed in it. 
 When I came to Buxton, I visited another or two of 
 their romantic scenes ; but these are inferior to Dove- 
 dale. They are but poor miniatures of Keswick, 
 which exceeds them more in grandeur than I can give 
 you to imagine ; and more, if possible, in beauty than 
 in grandeur. 
 
 " Instead of the narrow slip of valley which is seen 
 at Dovedale, you have at Keswick a vast amphitheatre, 
 in circumference about twenty miles. Instead of a 
 meagre rivulet, a noble living lake, ten miles round, 
 of an oblong form, adorned with a variety of wooded 
 
DR. BROWN'S DESCRIPTIOiM OF KESWICK. 107 
 
 islands. The rocks, indeed, of Dovedale are finely 
 wild, pointed, and irregular, but the hills are both 
 little and unanimated, and the margin of the brook is 
 poorly edged with weeds, morass, and brushwood. 
 But at Keswick you will, on one side of the lake, see 
 a rich and beautiful landscape of cultivated fields, 
 rising to the' eye in fine inequalities, with noble groves 
 of oak happily dispersed, and climbing the adjacent 
 hills, shade above shade, in the most varied and 
 picturesque forms. On the opposite shore you will 
 find rocks and chffs of stupendous height, hanging 
 broken over the lake in horrible grandeur, some of 
 them 1,000 feet high, the woods climbing up their 
 steep and shaggy sides, where mortal foot never yet 
 approached. On these dreadful heights the eagles 
 build their nests. A variety of waterfalls are seen 
 pouring from their summits, and tumbling in vast 
 sheets from rock to rock in rude and terrible mag- 
 nificence ; while on all sides of this immense amphi- 
 theatre the lofty mountains rise round, piercing the 
 clouds in shapes as spiry and fantastic as the very 
 rocks of Dovedale, To this I must add the frequent 
 and bold projection of the cliffs into the lake, forming 
 noble bays and promontories. In other parts they 
 finally retire from it and often open in abrupt chasms 
 or clefts, through which at hand you see rich and 
 cultivated vales, and beyond these, at various dis- 
 tances, mountain rising over mountain, among which 
 new prospects present themselves in mist, till the eye 
 is lost in an agreeable perplexity 
 
 " ' Where active fancy travels beyond sense, 
 And pictures things unseen.' 
 
 " Were I to analyse the two places into their con- 
 stituent principles, I should tell you that the full 
 perfection of Keswick consists of three circumstances 
 beauty^ horror^ and magnificeiice united, the second of 
 which is alone found in Dovedale ; of beauty it hath 
 little, nature having left it almost a desert ; neither its 
 
I^08 THE TOURIST AND HIS DOG. 
 
 small extent nor the diminutive and lifeless form of 
 the hills admit magnificence. But to give you a com- 
 plete idea of these three perfections, as they are 
 joined in Keswick, would require the united powers 
 of Claude, Salvator, and Pouissin. The first should 
 throw his delicate sunshine over the cultivated vales, 
 the scattered cots, the groves, the lake and wooded 
 islands \ the second should dash out the horror of the 
 rugged cliffs, the steeps, the hanging woods, and 
 foaming waterfalls ; while the grand pencil of Pouissin 
 should crown the whole with the majesty of the im- 
 pending mountains." 
 
 THE TOURIST AND HIS DOG. 
 
 According to an ordnance survey, Helvellyn is 
 3,055 feet above the level of the sea, and from its 
 summit extensive views are obtained of the most 
 beautiful portions of the lakes. The report of these 
 views have a bewitching sound to the ears of tourists, 
 and while most are too timid to make the ascent (on 
 foot or horseback) some have been bold enough to 
 defy the perils of the way. The road ascends by 
 Swirrel Edge, a rocky projection of Helvellyn, crowned 
 by a conical hill, called Catchedicam, from which 
 point a scramble of twenty minutes will place the 
 adventurous traveller on the highest peak of Helvellyn. 
 
 " Some persons," says Dr. Mackay in his *' English 
 Lakes," " are bold enough in making the ascent to 
 traverse the giddy and dangerous height of Striding 
 Edge, but this road, says the " Bard of the Lakes " 
 (Wordsworth), * ought not to be taken by anyone 
 with weak nerves,' as the top, in many places, scarcely 
 affords room to plant the foot, and is beset with awful 
 precipices on either side. The place, he adds, derives 
 a melancholy interest from the fate of a young man, 
 a stranger, who perished in the Spring of 1805, by 
 faUing down the rocks in his attempt to cross over 
 
THE TOURIST AND HIS DOG. I09' 
 
 from Wythbum to Patterdale. His remains were not 
 discovered, as we learn from an introduction to a poem 
 by Sir Walter Scott, until three months afterwards, 
 when they were found guarded by a faithful terrier 
 dog, his constant attendant during frequent solitary 
 rambles through the wilds of Westmorland and Cum- 
 berland. It appears, from the same note, that the 
 stranger, whose name was Gough, was a young gentle- 
 man of talent, and of a most amiable disposition. 
 Both Sir Walter Scott and Mr. Wordsworth have 
 written poems upon . the subject. The following is 
 Wordsworth's " Fidelity." 
 
 " A barking sound the shepherd heats, 
 A cry, as of a dog or fox ; 
 He halts, and searches with his eyes • 
 Among the scattered rocks. 
 And nowatdistance can discerni 
 A stirring in a brake of fern; 
 And instantly a dog is seen 
 Glancing through that covert green. 
 
 xhe dog is not of mountain breed,' 
 Its motions, too, are wild and shy ; 
 With something, as the shepherd thinks. 
 Unusual in' its cry : 
 Nor is there any one in sight 
 AllVound, in hollow or on height ; 
 Nor shout, nor whistle strike-, his car, — 
 What is the creature domg here f 
 
 It was a cove — a huge recess. 
 
 That keeps till June December's snow 
 
 A lofty precipice in front, 
 
 A silent tarn below ! 
 
 Far in the bosom of Helveilyn, 
 
 Remote from public road or dwelling; 
 
 Pathway, or cultivated land ; 
 
 Froru trace of human foot or hand. 
 
 The*e sometimes doth a leaping fish 
 Send through the tarn a lonely cheer, 
 The crags repeat the raven's croak,. 
 In symphony austere : 
 
no THE TOURIST AND HIS DOG. 
 
 Thither the rainbow comes — the cloud — 
 And mists that spread the flying shroud, 
 And sunbeams, and the sounding blast, 
 That, if it could, would hurry past, 
 But that enormous barrier binds it fast. 
 
 Not free from boding thoughts, awhile 
 
 The shepherd stood ; then makes his way 
 
 Towards the dog, o'er rocks and stones, 
 
 As quickly as he may ; 
 
 Nor far had gone before he found ^ 
 
 A human skeleton on the ground ; 
 
 The appall'd discoverer with a sigh 
 
 Looks round, to learn the history. 
 
 From these abrupt and perilous rocks 
 
 The man had fallen, that place of fear J 
 
 Al length upon the shepherd's mind 
 
 It breaks, and all is clear : 
 
 He instantly recalled the name, 
 
 And who he was, and whence he came ; 
 
 Remember'd, too, the very day, 
 
 On which the traveller pass'd this way. 
 
 But hear a wonder for whose sake 
 
 This lamentable tale I tell, 
 
 A lasting monument of words 
 
 This wonder merits well. 
 
 The dog, which still was hovering nigh, 
 
 Kepeating the same timid cry, 
 
 This dog had been through three months' space, 
 
 A dweller in that savage place. 
 
 Yes, proof was plain, that since the day 
 On which the traveller thus had died 
 The dog had watched about the spot, 
 Or by his master's side. 
 
 How nourished here through such long time 
 He knows, who gave that love sublime, 
 And gave that strength of feeling, great 
 Above all human estimate." 
 
 The summit of Helvellyn is a smooth mossy plain, 
 inclining slightly to the west, and terminating abruptly 
 by broken precipices on the east. On the mountain 
 are two cairns, or piles of stone, called "men," about 
 
THE LEGEND OF BISHOP BLAIZE. Ill 
 
 a quarter of a mile apart, and from an angle in the 
 hili between thera the best view of the country 
 northward is to be obtained. The majestic Skiddaw, 
 ■with Blencathra or Saddleback, on its rigfht, are the 
 most prominent features of the landscape. 
 
 THE LEGEND OF BISHOP BLAIZE. 
 
 There is an inn at Kendal known by the name of 
 *' Bishop Blaize." This Bishop was the patron saint 
 of the wool-combers in England, and the supposed 
 inventor of their art. In Honeys Year Book there is 
 an account of two festivals that were formerly held in 
 his honour at Potton, in Bedfordshire, also famous for 
 its wool trade in times gone by. It appears that 
 similar festivals were common to most manufacturing 
 towns, till the early part of last century, and to 
 Kendal among the rest. In the " Book," under the 
 date of Feb. 3rd, a still more particular account of 
 the Saint is given, together with a detail of the 
 ceremonies observed on the Septennial commemora- 
 tion of his name at Bradford, in Yorkshire, so lately 
 as 1825. Besides being the true patron of wool- 
 combing, the Saint, who died in the fourth century, 
 was famous for curing sore throats, He lived in a 
 cave, and was " very often visited," says the Golden 
 Legend, " by wild beasts whenever a bone stuck in 
 their throats. If it happened that they came while 
 he was at prayer they did not interrupt him, but 
 waiting until he had ended, and never departed without 
 his benediction," A most exemplary man was the 
 Bishop — so exemplary and so holy that Father 
 Ribadaneira relates of him, that when he was scourged 
 by his persecutors "seven holy women anointed them- 
 selves with his blood." This having drawn upon them 
 both attention and vengeance, their flesh — out of cruel 
 compiinieni to the wool-comber, it is to be supposed — 
 was " combed with iron combs " — but strange to say 
 
112- A MOURNFUL LEGEND OF ARA FORCE. 
 
 "their wounds ran milk — their flesh became whiter 
 than snow, and angels came visibly and healed 
 their wounds as fast as they were made." They were 
 then, as a last resource, put into the lire. It would 
 not, however, consume them — and this trying the 
 patience of their persecutors to the utmost extreme, 
 they were ordered to be beheaded — and beheaded 
 they were accordingly, St. Blaize was ordered to be 
 drowned in the lake ; but he very coolly walked on 
 the water — sat down on it, and invited his tormentors 
 to meet him in the middle. Seventy of them tried to 
 do it, and were drowned ; and the Saint having seen 
 them sink, no doubt with great satisfaction, walked 
 to the land very composedly and devoutly, and was 
 then and there beheaded without more ado. 
 
 A MOURNFUL LEGEND OF ARA FORCE. 
 
 Ara Force rises in the great Dod mountain, part of ' 
 which forms Go Vi barrow Park, one of the most beautiful- 
 falls throughout the Lake district. It stands in the 
 Lyulph Tower Garden, an ivy-covered little castle, built 
 for a shooting box by the late Duke of Norfolk ; but it is 
 reared on the site of a real old tower, named, it is said, 
 after' Ulf, or L'Ulf, the first baron of Greystoke, who 
 gave its name to the lake. The part which surrounds it, 
 and stret<;hes down to the lake, is studded with ancient 
 trees; and the sides of its water-courses, and the 
 depths of its ravine, are luxuriantly wooded. Vast 
 hills, with clitnbing tracks, rise behind, on which herds 
 of deer are occasionally seen, like brown shadows 
 from the clouds. They are safe there from being 
 startled (as they are in the glades of the park) by 
 strangers who come to find Ara Force by following 
 the sound of the fall. As he sits in the cooldamp 
 nook at the bottom of the chasm, where the echo of 
 dashing and gurgling water never dies, and tlie f^rns, 
 long grasses, and ash sprays, wave and quiver ever- 
 
A MOURNFUL LEC END OF ARA FORCE. II3 
 
 lastingly in the pulsing air ; and as, looking up, he sees 
 the slender line of bridge spanning the upper fall he 
 ought to know of the mournful legend which belongs 
 to this place, which Wordsworth has immortalised in 
 his poem of " The SomnambuHst." The pathetic 
 legend is thus related : — 
 
 The beautiful Emma of Wordsworth's poem was 
 betrothed to Sir Eglamour, a knight who courted her 
 in her father's old tower, and who endeavoured to 
 achieve the hand of his lady-love by performing daring 
 deeds in knight-errantry. The glory he won, poor 
 Emma rejoiced to hear from time to time ; these news 
 at length, however, brought bad tidings of his deeds 
 of gallantry in behalf of other distressed ladies, and 
 doubts of his fidelity gradually crept into Emma's 
 devoted heart, disturbed, and caused her weakened 
 mind to travel, and she began to walk in her dreams. 
 Of an evening, in her dream wanderings, she directed 
 her steps towards the holly-tree by the waterfall, where 
 she and her lover had plighted their troth, and safely 
 traversed the dangerous paths, this was the limit of 
 her dream walks. Sir Eglamour, at length, returned in 
 the dead of the night to claim his affianced bride. He 
 wandered towards the trys^ing-tree, there to rest until 
 the morning should permit him to knock at the gate 
 of her father's tower ; but, as he approached the spot 
 he saw a figure in white gliding on before him among 
 the trees. "The fair and delicate hand plucked a few 
 holly-leaves, and then let them fall gently into the 
 stream below, with an agonizing sigh upheaving that 
 delicate frame. He stood aghast — outstretched his 
 trembling hand and again withdrew it. — Was it the 
 ghost of his Emma? or was it herself? She stood in 
 a dangerous position ; he put out his hand to uphold 
 her : the touch awakened her. In her terror and con- 
 fusion she fell from his grasp into the torrent, and was 
 carried down the ravine. He followed and rescued 
 her, but she died upon the bank ; not, however, with- 
 I 
 
114 RUSH-BEARING AT GRASMERE CHURCH. 
 
 out having understood that her lover was true, and 
 had come to claim her. 
 
 The knight devoted the rest of his days to mourn 
 her ; he built himself a cell upon the spot, and became 
 a hermit for her sake. 
 
 " Soul shattered was the knight, nor knew 
 
 If Emma's ghost it were ; 
 A boding shade, or if the maid 
 
 Her very self stood there. 
 He touched — What followed who can tell; 
 
 The soft touch snapped the thread 
 Of slumber; shrieking, back she fell, 
 
 And the stream whirled her down the dell 
 Along its foaming bed." 
 
 The following Imes are from Wordsworth's " Som- 
 nambulist " — 
 
 *' List ye who pass by Lyulph's Tower 
 
 At eve ; how softly then 
 Doth Ara Force, that torrent hoarse, 
 
 Speak from the woody glen ! 
 Fit music for a solemn vale ! 
 
 And holier seems the ground, 
 To him who catches on the gale 
 
 The spirit of a mournful tale. 
 
 # * * * * 
 
 Wild stream of Ara, hold thy course. 
 
 Nor fear memorial lays. 
 Where clouds that spread in solemn shade 
 
 Are edged with golden rays ! 
 Dear art thou to the light of heaven. 
 
 Though minister of sorrow, 
 Sweet is thy voice at pensive even, 
 
 And thou in lovers' hearts, 
 Shalt take thy place with Yarrow." 
 
 THE CELEBRATION OF RUSH-BEARING AT 
 GRASMERE CHURCH. 
 
 The church of Grasmere is dedicated to St 
 Oswald, and has been very celebrated, not only for 
 the beauty of its position, and its neighbourhood, but 
 
THE LAMENT OF THE BORDER WIDOW. II5 
 
 for the annual celebration of rush-bearing. This 
 ceremony has long been known in Lancashire, York- 
 shire, Westmorland, and Cumberland, St. Oswald's 
 Day is on the Sunday nearest to the first of August, 
 and upon this day the rush-bearing annually takes 
 place in Grasmere. Anciently, when the floors of 
 the churches in England were neither paved nor 
 boarded, rushes were indispensable articles of comfort 
 to church-going people ; but with the progress of 
 elegance in architecture it became rare to find un- 
 paved churches, and the ceremony of strewing the 
 rushes fell, consequently, into disuse. We find in 
 Honeys Year Book, 1831, that the sweet scented flag, 
 or acorus calamus, was commonly made use of on these 
 occasions, having been selected originally in con- 
 sequence of their roots giving out, when bruised by 
 the heat of feet, a very powerful and fragrant odour, 
 resembling that of the myrtle. This plant, however, 
 from its great demand in breweries, under the name of 
 quassia, has not been obtainable for many years, and 
 the yellow water iris has been substituted in its place. 
 The rush-bearing at Grasmere generally takes place 
 in the evening, when the children of the village, 
 chiefly girls, parade through the streets to the church, 
 preceded by a band of music, bearing garlands of wild 
 flowers as well as bundles of rushes ; the latter of 
 which they deposit on the altar, or strew about the 
 floor of the church. The same annual ceremony was 
 also observed at Ambleside and other places. 
 
 THE LAMENT OF THE BORDER WIDOW 
 
 AN AFFECTING BALLAD OF THE BORDER CITY. 
 
 Carlisle, the Border City — the city of King Arthur 
 and his knights — is very rich in legendary ballads. 
 The following is founded upon the story of Cockburn 
 of Henderland, a noted disturber of the English 
 districts; who did not, however, suffer at Carlisle, 
 I — 2 
 
1 16 THE LAMENT OF THE BORDER WIDOW. 
 
 though he had ravaged its neighbourhood ; nor at the 
 hands of the EngUsh, whose laws he had violated. 
 James the Fifth, scandalised at the excesses of these 
 border reivers, made an excursion into their country 
 in 1529, and executed summary justice upon several 
 of the most turbulent, among others Cockburn of 
 Henderland. He was hanged, by the King's order, 
 over the gate of his own keep or tower, whilst his 
 lady fled to the bank's of a mountain stream, called 
 the Henderland Burn, and sat down at the foot of a 
 foaming cataract, to drown, amid the sound of the 
 roaring waters, the noise Of the drums that announced 
 the close of her husband's existence. The place 
 where she sat is still shown to the stranger. *' The 
 author of the ballad," says Charles Mackay, himself a 
 poet of high merit, " is unknown." It was taken 
 down in the Ettrick Forest, and is as affecting a ballad 
 as any in the language, abounding with touches of 
 genuine pathos, and most lovely simplicity of sorrow. 
 Exquisite is the whole composition, and some of the 
 passages are worthy of the greatest poets : — 
 
 " My love, he built me a bonnie (ower. 
 And clad it a' wi' lilye flower, 
 A biawer bower ye ne'er did see, 
 Than my true love he built for me. 
 
 There came a man, by middle day 
 He spied his sport, and went away, 
 
 And brought the King that very night, 
 
 Who brake my bower, and slew my knight. 
 
 He slew my knight to me sae dear, 
 He slew my knight and poined his gear, 
 My servants all for life did flee 
 And left me in extremitie. 
 
 I sewed his sheet, making my moan, 
 I watched the corpse, myself alone, 
 I watched the body night and day. 
 No living creature came that way. 
 
A TRADITION OF EGREMONT CASTLE. 1 1 7 
 
 I took his body on my back, 
 
 And whiles I gaed, and whiles I sat, 
 
 I digged a grave and laid him in, 
 
 And happed him with the sod sae green. 
 
 But think nae ye my heart was sair, 
 When I laid the mould on his yellow hair 1 
 Oh think nae ye my heart was wae 
 "When I turned about away to gae. 
 
 Nae living man I'll love again, 
 Since that my lovely knight is slain, 
 Wi' ae lock of his yellow hair 
 I'll bind my heart for evermair." 
 
 A ROMANTIC TRADITION OF EGREMONT 
 CASTLE. 
 Egremont, in the Ennerdale district of the Lakes, 
 is a little town which looks very pretty from the up- 
 lands, and cheerful, too, in spite of its Roman name 
 '("The Mount of Sorrow.") It is distinguished by 
 romantic traditions. It was at the gateway of Egre- 
 mont Castle that the horn was hung, in crusading 
 days, which was twice blown by the gallant Eustace 
 de Lacy. As the Cumbrians tell : Sir Eustacea nd his 
 brother Hubert rode forth together to the Holy Wars ; 
 and Sir Eustace blew the horn, saying to his brother, 
 " If I fall in Palestine, do thou return and blow the 
 horn, and take possession, that Egremont may not be 
 without a Lacy for its Lord." In Palestine ambition 
 of this Lordship so took possession of Hubert, that he 
 hired ruffians to drown his brother in the Jordan; and 
 the ruffians assured him that the deed was done. He 
 returned home, and stole into the castle by night, not 
 daring to sound the horn. But he soon plucked up 
 spirit, and drowned his remorse in revels. In the 
 midst of a banquet one day, the horn was heard 
 mounding such a blast that the echoes came back from 
 the fells after starting the red deer from his covert, 
 and the wild boar from his drinking at the river. 
 
Il8 THE SIEGE OF CARLISLE. 
 
 Hubert knew that none but Eustace could, or would, 
 sound the horn; and he fled by a postern while his 
 brother, Eustace, entered by the gates. Long after^ 
 the wretched Hubert came to ask forgiveness from his- 
 brother ; anci having obtained it, retired to a convent, 
 where he practised penance till he died. The ruins 
 of the castle stands on an eminence to the west of the 
 town. 
 
 THE SIEGE OF CARLISLE BY "BONNIE 
 PRINCE CHARLIE." 
 
 The following account (from the GentlemarHs 
 Magazine, 1745) derives its interest as being written 
 by an eye witness : — 
 
 " On Saturday, the 9th, afternoon, about three 
 o'clock, a body of the rebels appeared at Stanwix Bank, 
 within a quarter of a mile of Carlisle, and it being the 
 market-day there they mixed with the country people 
 returning home, so that it was not possible for the 
 garrison to fire upon them for some time, without 
 risque of injuring their neighbours along with their 
 enemies ; but in less than half-an-hour the country 
 people dispersed themselves, and then the garrison of 
 the castle fired a ten-gun battery upon them, which, 'tis 
 believed, killed several ; then, night coming on, they 
 retreated to a greater distance from the city, and the 
 garrison stood all night under arms. At two in the 
 morning a thick fog came on, which remained till 
 twelve next day, when it cleared up for about a hour, 
 and then the garrison discovered the rebels approaching 
 to attack the city in three several parties, viz., one at 
 Stanwix Bank, commanded by the Duke of Perth, a 
 second at Shading Gate Lane, commanded by the 
 Marquis of Tallibardine, who also had the artillery,, 
 and a third in Blackwell Fields, where the Pretender 
 commanded the rest of their body, facing the English 
 Gate. 
 
THE SIEGE OF CARLISLE. II9 
 
 " Upon discovering these three parties approaching 
 so near the city the garrison fired upon them, viz., the 
 four-gun battery upon the Marquis of TalUbardine, who 
 was heard to say ' Gentlemen, we have not metal for 
 them, retreat ; ' which they immediately did, and dis- 
 appeared. The turret guns and the citadel guns were 
 fired upon the Pretender's division, where the white 
 flag was displayed, which was seen to fall ; about the 
 same time the nine-gun battery was fired upon the 
 Duke of Perth's division, who also retired, Then the 
 thick fog struck in again, and all the inhabitants of 
 the city expected nothing but a general assault would 
 be made by the rebels, against which the walls were 
 lined with men, and Sir John Pennington, Dr. 
 Waugh, Chancellor; Humphrey Senhouse, Joseph 
 Dacre Dalston, of Acorn Bank, Esqrs., with several 
 other gentlemen of note, stood all night under arms 
 to encourage and assist them. The militia was also 
 drawn up at the foot of Castle Street, to be ready, 
 in case of a forcible attack, to relieve and reinforce 
 the men on the walls. On Monday morning, the fog 
 still continuing thick, the garrison could not observe 
 the situation of the rebels, but heard their pipers play- 
 ing not far from the English Gate. About ten o'clock 
 a man was let down from the city wails to recon- 
 noitre the enemy, and he found they were retiring 
 towards Warwick Bridge. After noon other spies 
 were likewise detach'd to observe their motions, and 
 discover'd a great number remain'd about Warwick 
 Bridge ; but the Pretender, with his guard and 
 attendants, were advanc'd to Brampton, where they 
 lodg'd themselves that night; and on Tuesday they 
 lay idle from all action, except feats of rapine and 
 plunder ; for they spent the day in hunting and 
 destroying the sheep of Lord Carlisle's tenants, and 
 bearing off the country people's geese and other 
 poultry. They also seized upon all the horses they 
 could lay hands on, without any question relating 
 
I20 THE SIEGE OF CARLISLE. 
 
 to value or property; notwithstanding they declare 
 ■;he design of their expedition is to redress grievances 
 and correct abuses. Tuesday night the rebels slept 
 quietly with full bellies. On Wednesday morning, about 
 ten o'clock, they displayed the white flag at Warwick 
 Bridge end, to which they were about three hours in 
 repairing. About one o'clock, the young Pretender, 
 attended by Lord George Murray, the Duke of Perth, 
 and several others, besides those called his guards, 
 came to them ; upon which they formed themselves, 
 and began to march again to Carlisle in the following 
 order : — First, two (named hussars) in Highland 
 dresses, and high rough red caps, like pioneers ; next 
 followed half-a-dozen of the chief leaders, followed by 
 a kettle drum ; then the Pretender's son, at the head 
 of about one hundred and ten horse, called his guards, 
 two and two a-breast; after these a confused multitude 
 of all sorts of mean people, to the number (as was 
 supposed) of about 6,000. In this order they advanced 
 to the heights of Warwick Moor, when they halted 
 about half-a-hour, and took an attentive view of the 
 city. From thence the foot took the lead, and so 
 marched to Carlisle about three in the afternoon, 
 when they began a fresh assault, and the citizens 
 renewed their fire. On Thursday, it was discovered 
 that the rebels had thrown up a trench, which intimi- 
 dated the town, and in a consultation it was resolved 
 to capitulate ; a deputation was sent to the Pretender 
 at Brampton, and the town and castle delivered up on 
 Friday morning." 
 
 The victory of the Stuart party was but of short 
 duration and little benefit. The Duke of Cumber- 
 land arrived with his army on Saturday, the 21st of 
 December, the garrison displayed a flag of truce, and 
 surrendered. Gallows Hill, about a mile south of 
 Carlisle, was the place of execution selected for the 
 unfortunate Scotchmen. Until nearly the end of the 
 last century the remains of the gibbet were to be seen 
 
SHELLEY S RESIDENCE AT THE LAKES. 121 
 
 liere ; and at the foot of it, the ashes ot the fire used 
 in burnmg the bodies of those who suffered for high 
 treason. 
 
 With this event ends the historical interest of 
 ■Carlisle. The walls of the city long displayed the 
 hideous mementos of the downfall of the Stuarts — a 
 circumstance alluded to by David Hume, in his in- 
 scription on the windows of the Bush Inn, when he 
 visited Carlisle two or three years afterwards ; — 
 •' Here chiks in eggs for breakfast sprawls ; 
 Here Godless boys, God's glory squall, 
 While Scotchmen's heads adorn the wall, . 
 But Corey's Walks atone for all." 
 
 Sir Walter Scott imagined these to be the only 
 verses Hume ever wrote. In a letter to Mr. Morritt, 
 dated Abbotsford, 2nd October, 1815, and pubhshed 
 in Lockhart's Life, Sir Walter facetiously says, in 
 allusion to these four lines, " Would it not be a good 
 quiz to advertise ' The poetical works of David Hume,' 
 with notes, critical, historical, and so forth, with a 
 historical inquiry into the use of eggs for breakfast, a 
 physical discussion on the causes of their being 
 addled ; a history of the English Church music, 
 and of the choir at Carlisle in particular ; a full 
 account of the affairs of 1745, with the trials, last 
 speeches, and so forth of the poor plaids, who 
 were strapped up at Carlisle ; and lastly, a full 
 and particular description of Corby, with the 
 genealogy of every family who ever possessed it ? 
 I think, even without more than the usual waste of 
 margin, the poems of David would make a decent 
 twelve shilling touch." 
 
 THE POET SHELLEY'S RESIDENCE AT 
 THE LAKES. 
 
 Mr. De Quincey informs us of some circumstances 
 connected with Shelley's residence at Keswick, near 
 the famous Druid's Circle. 
 
122 Shelley's residence at the lakes. 
 
 " Between two and three years after Shelley's 
 expulsion from Oxford," says Mr. De Quincey, "he 
 married a beautiful girl, named Westbrook. She was 
 respectably connected ; but had not moved in a rank 
 corresponding to Shelley's ; and that accident brought 
 him into my own neighbourhood, for his family, already 
 estranged from him, were now thoroughly irritated by 
 what they regarded as a mesalliance, and withdrew, 
 or greatly reduced, his pecuniary allowances. Such, 
 at least, was the story current. In this embarassment 
 his wife's father made over to him an annual income 
 of ;^2oo, and, as economy had become important, 
 the youthful pair — both, in fact, still children — came 
 down to the lakes, supposing this region of Cumber- 
 land and Westmorland to be a sequestered place, 
 which it was, for eight months in the year; and also tO' 
 be a cheap place — which it was not. Another motive 
 to this choice arose from the then Duke of Norfolk. 
 He was an old friend of Shelley's family, and 
 generously refused to hear a word of the young man's 
 errors, except where he could do anything to relieve 
 him from the consequences. His Grace possessed 
 the beautiful estate of Gowbarrow Park, on Ullswater, 
 and other estates of greater extent in the same two 
 counties ; his own agents he had directed to furnish 
 any accommodation that might meet Shelley's views ; 
 and he had written to some gentlemen amongst his 
 agricultural friends in Cumberland, requesting them 
 to pay such neighbourly attentions to the solitary 
 young people as circumstances might place in their 
 power. This bias being impressed upon Shelley's 
 wanderings, naturally brought him to Keswick, as the 
 most central and the largest of the little towns dis- 
 persed amongst the lakes. Southey, made aware of 
 the interest taken in Shelley by the Duke of Norfolk, 
 with his usual kindness, immediately called upon him ; 
 and the ladies of Southey's family subsequently made 
 an early call upon Mrs. Shelley. One of them 
 
SHELLEY'S RESIDENCE AT THE LAKES. 12 3' 
 
 mentioned to me, as occurring in this first visit, an 
 amusing expression of the youthful matron, which, 
 four years later, when I heard of her gloomy end,, 
 recalled with the force of a pathetic contrast, that icy 
 arrest then chaining up her youthful feet for ever. 
 The Shelley's had been induced by one of their new 
 friends, Mr. Calvert, to take part of a house standing 
 about a mile out of Keswick, on the Penrith Road ; 
 more, I believe, in that friend's intention, for the sake 
 of bringing them easily within his hospitalities, than for 
 any beauty in the place. And whilst walking in this, 
 one of the Southey party asked Mrs. Shelley if the 
 garden had been let with their part of the house. 
 * Oh, no,' she replied, ' the garden is not ours ; but 
 then, you know, the people let us run about in it 
 whenever Percy and I are tired of sitting in the 
 house.' The naivete of this expression, ' run about, 
 contrasting so picturesquely with the intermitting 
 efforts of the girlish wife at supporting a matronlike 
 gravity now that she was doing the honours of her 
 house to married ladies, caused all the party to smile. 
 And me it caused profoundly to sigh, four years later, - 
 when the gloomy death of this young creature, now 
 frozen in a distant grave, threw back my remembrance 
 upon her fawn-like playfulness, which, unconsciously 
 to herself, the girlish phrase of run about so naturally 
 betrayed. 
 
 "At that time," continues Mr. De Quincey, "I had 
 a cottage myself in Grasmere, just thirteen miles 
 distant from Shelley's new abode. As he had then 
 written nothing of any interest, I had no motive for 
 calling upon him, except by way of showing any little 
 attentions in my power to a brother Oxonian, and to a 
 man of letters. Some neighbourly advantages I might 
 certainly have placed at Shelley's disposal — Grasmere, 
 for instance, itself, which tempted at that time by a 
 beauty that had not been sullied ; Wordsworth, who 
 then lived at Grasmere; and Professor Wilson at. 
 
124 ROMAN REMAINS. 
 
 Elleray, nine miles further ; finally, my own library, 
 Avhich, being rich in the wickedest of German specula- 
 tions, would naturally have been more to Shelley's 
 Uste than the Spanish library of Southey. 
 
 But all these temptations were negatived for 
 Shelley by his sudden departure. Off he went in a 
 hurry ; but why he went, or whither he went, I did not 
 inquire; not guessing the interest which he would create 
 in my mind six years later, by his * Revolt of Islam.' 
 A Life of Shelley, in a Continental edition of his 
 works says, that he went to Edinburgh and to Ireland. 
 Some time after, we at the Lakes, heard that he was 
 living in Wales. But events were hurrying upon his 
 heart of hearts. Within less than ten years the whole 
 career of his life was destined to revolt. Within that 
 space he had the whole burden of life and death to 
 exhaust ; he had all his suffering to suffer, and all his 
 work to work." 
 
 REGATTA ON DERWENTWATER.— 1782. 
 
 Bassenthwaite-water was the first lake that was 
 lionoured with one of those amusements called 
 Regattas ; this was on the 24th of August, 1780. 
 Another was exhibited on the 1st of August, 1781 
 (when the swimming sweepstakes were introduced) ; 
 and the last on the 4th September, 1782. This 
 species of entertainment was begun on Derwent- 
 water, on the 28th August, 1781, and has continued, 
 with intermissions, till the present time, 1881, 
 
 ROMAN REMAINS. 
 Upon Hutton Moor, and on the north side of the 
 great road, could be traced the path of the Roman 
 way that leads from old Penrith, or Plumpton-wall, in 
 a line almost due west to Keswick, Upon the moor 
 are the traces of a large encampment that the road 
 traverses. And a little beyond the eighth mile-post, 
 
ROMAN REMAINS. 12$ 
 
 on the left, at Whitbarrow, are strong vestiges of a 
 square encampment. The Roman road, beyond that, 
 is met with in the enclosed fields of Whitbarrow, and 
 is known by the farmers from the opposition they meet 
 with in ploughing across it. After that it is found 
 entirely on the common called " Greystoke Low 
 Moor." About 1779 ^ new road was formed on the 
 agger of it. In the year 1772, near Little Blencow, 
 in removing a heap of stones, two urns w^ere taken up, 
 about 2^- ft. high, made of very coarse earth, and 
 crusted on both sides with a brown clay, the tops 
 remarkably wide, and covered with a red flat stone. 
 Besides ashes and bones, each urn had a small cup 
 within it, of a fine clay, in the shape of a tea-cup. 
 One was pierced in the centre of the bottom part. 
 The place where they were taken up is called 
 " Lodden-how," within twenty yards of the road 
 between Penrith and Skelton, and about 200 yards 
 from the Roman road. Also on the banks of the 
 Peteril, a curious altar was found about 1779. ^^ 
 was three feet four inches in height, and nearly sixteeni 
 inches square. It had been thrown down from the 
 upper ground, and the corners broken off in the fall. 
 The front had been filled with an inscription ; the 
 letters short and square, but not one word remains 
 legible. On the right-hand side is the patera, with a 
 handle, and underneath the secespita. On the 
 opposite side is the Ampula, and from its lip a 
 serpent or viper descends in waves. The back part 
 is rude, as if intended to stand against a wall. The 
 emblems are in excellent preservation. That the 
 Romans have had engagements at Kirkstone-pass is 
 evident, from the Roman arms that were found (1779) 
 in the adjoining moss, and the many heaps of stones 
 collected thereabouts, which have the appearance of 
 barriers. 
 
126 REMAINS OF PAINTED GLASS. 
 
 REMAINS OF PAINTED GLASS IN 
 BOWNESS CHURCH. 
 
 In Bowness there is nothing so remarkable as some 
 remains of painted glass, in the east window of the 
 church, whose low, square tower and weather-worn 
 look, lifts up its old broad-faced clock, the hands of 
 which seem treading the footsteps of time, as they 
 have done for centuries, while its old appearance 
 wears a grey, venerable look that harmonizes well 
 with all around. The churchyard holds the remains 
 of Richard Watson, Bishop of Llandaff, who lived and 
 died at Calgarth House, on the margin of the lake, 
 July I St, 1816, aged 79. The ancient and elaborately- 
 painted Tchancel window was brought from Furness 
 Abbey, and is thus described in " Hutchinson's Ex- 
 "Cursions " : — 
 
 " The present remains of this window show that it 
 has contained very fine colouring in its former state. 
 The arms of France and England quartered, are well 
 preserved at the top of the window. The design is a 
 crucifixion in figures as large as life. By the hands, 
 feet and parts remaining, it seems to have been of 
 singular beauty. On the dexter side of the crucifixion 
 is St. George slaying the dragon : on the sinister, the 
 Virgin Mary ; — an uncouth assemblage. Beneath, 
 are the figures of a knight and his lady kneeling; 
 before whom are a group of kneeling monks, over 
 whose heads is written : W. Hartley, Tho. Honton, 
 and other names, by the breaking of the glass ren- 
 dered not legible." The glass is a fine specimen of 
 .ancient art, and consists of thousands of fragments 
 joined together — 
 
 All diamonded with panes of quaint device, 
 And twilight saints, and dim emblazonings. 
 And shielded 'scutcheons blush'd with blood of kings and queens. 
 
 Bowness Church is a picturesque time-worn building, 
 beautifully begirt by its ancient trees, and its quiet 
 
OPTICAL ILLUSIONS 1 27 
 
 " God's Acre," where every grave stone is lapped in 
 posied plots and bright little interspaces of well-kept 
 green, with here and there an overhanging bough ; 
 and it is a delightful thing to sit upon a bench outside, 
 when clouds of midges are whirling in the glow of a 
 declining day, and swallows are flitting around the old 
 tower, and the gloaming begins to bend with the 
 solemn colouring of the night, whilst the sounds of 
 sacred evensong float from the open doors into the 
 resting village. 
 
 OPTICAL ILLUSIONS. 
 
 Towards the south-east corner of Whernside, some 
 singular properties may be observed in the black 
 €arth which composes the soil in the higher parts of 
 the vale, in various mossy places. It is a kind of 
 putrified earth, which, in the night, resembles fire, 
 when it is agitated by being trod upon. The effects 
 it produces in a dark evening is truly curious and 
 amusing. Strangers are always surprised and often 
 frightened, to see their own and horses' legs besprinkled 
 to all appearance with fire, and sparks of it flying in 
 every direction, as if struck out of the ground from 
 under their feet. They are as much alarmed with it, 
 as the country people are with the Will-o'-the-wisp. 
 Though the dark and dreary moor is broken into 
 thousands of luminous particles, like so many glow- 
 worms, when troubled by the benighted traveller, yet 
 if any of this natural phosphorus is brought before a 
 lighted candle, its splendour immediately vanishes, 
 and it shrinks back into its original dull and dark 
 state of sordid dirt. 
 
 Another optical illusion are the Castle Rocks of St. 
 John's. The vale of St. John's is a very narrow dell, 
 hemmed in by mountains, through which a small brook 
 makes many meanderings, washing little enclosures of 
 grass ground, which stretch up the risings of the hills. 
 
128 GRAPHIC DESCRIPTION OF A STAG HUNT. 
 
 In the widest part of the dale the beholder is struck 
 with the appearance of an ancient ruined castle, which 
 seems to stand upon the summit of a little mount, the 
 mountains around forming an amphitheatre. This 
 massive bulwark shows a front of various towers, and 
 makes an awful, rudely, and gothic appearance, with its 
 lofty turrets and rugged battlements, — bending arches, 
 buttresses, and galleries may be traced ; the greatest 
 antiquity stands characterized in its architecture. 
 Curiosity is aroused, and the traveller prepares to 
 make a nearer approach ; when that curiosity is put 
 upon the rack, by his being assured, that if he 
 advances, certain genii, who govern the place, by 
 virtue of their supernatural arts and necromancy, will 
 strip it of all its beauties, and by enchantment trans- 
 form the magic walls. The vale, too, seems well 
 adapted for the habitation of such beings; its gloomy 
 recesses and retirements look like haunts of evil spirits ; 
 there was no delusion in the report, and the visitor is 
 soon convinced of its truth, for this piece of antiquity, 
 so venerable and noble in its aspect, as he draws near, 
 changes its figure and proves no other than a shaken 
 massive pile of rocks, which stand in the midst of this 
 little vale, disunited from the adjoining mountains, 
 and have so much the real form and resemblance of 
 a castle that they bear the name of the Castle 
 Rocks of St. John's. The delusion is a source of 
 much laughter and merriment when it is discovered^ 
 
 GRAPHIC DESCRIPTION OF A STAG 
 
 HUNT IN 1773. 
 From Hutchinson's " An Excursion to the Lakes,"^ 
 we quote the following vivid description of a stag 
 chase : — " Mr. Hazel, of Delmain, is possessed of the 
 Chase of Martindale, which borders on the lake (Ulls- 
 water), and includes most of the heights which lie upon 
 the eastern side. The lands of his manor being of cus- 
 
GRAPHIC DESCRIPTION OF A STAG HUNT. I 29 
 
 lomary tenure, are attended with this badge of servility : 
 the tenants are bound to attend their lord's hunt 
 within this chase once a year, which is called in their 
 court role a Boon Hunt. On this occasion they have 
 each their district allotted on the boundaries of the 
 chase, where they are stationed, to prevent the stag 
 flying beyond the liberty. A stag chase was promised 
 the gentlemen of the county on the marriage of 
 William Hazel, Esq., heir apparent of the house of 
 Delmain, whose excellent character and merit had 
 rendered the occasion a cause of great festivity in the 
 neighbourhood ; but as I was not fortunate enough to 
 be present at this diversion," continues Mr. Hutchin- 
 son, " shall beg the reader's attention to a description 
 given me by one who had enjoyed a similar scene : — 
 " 'A stag having been selected from his herd, the 
 hounds were conducted to the copse, where he lay 
 inattentive to the dangers which surrounded him. On 
 being roused, he stretched his limbs, advanced his 
 antlers with solemn dignity, and looked disdainfully 
 upon the approaching hunters. He quitted the cover, 
 and in contempt of the threatenings of his foes, 
 seemed scarce to touch the ground, as he bounded 
 upon his springing pasterns and made his flight in 
 vaultings and sportive leaps. The cry of the hounds 
 was singularly melodious, being re-echoed from shore 
 to shore, added to the music of the horns. The hills 
 were cloathed with spectators ; — on the lake were 
 several barges with colours displayed, and other boats, 
 crowded with people. The stag at first took the 
 heights, where sometimes he was seen chmbing the 
 mountains with incredible swiftness, whilst the hounds 
 appeared in a slower train, pursuing, yet losing ground, 
 so much did he seem to outstrip them. At other 
 times the interposing mountains robbed us of the 
 sight, but indulged us with the music of the cry, from 
 the melody of which, attention was not diverted by 
 having the pack in view. Again they came in sight — 
 
 K 
 
13© GRAPHIC DESCRIPTION OF A STAG HUNT. 
 
 the stag flew over every fence as an arrow from the 
 bow — the hounds appeared to gain ground ; the 
 various windings of the fugitive along the steeps were 
 all in view. At length he found his flight and speed 
 did not avail him ; he meditated to save himself by 
 artifice, submitting to descend into the lower grounds, 
 and quit the hills. The people who attended, per- 
 ceiving the well-known signal of his decUning speed, 
 with their shouts from every quarter, made each vale 
 and cliff resound. Echo deceived our ears m a 
 surprising manner, for the shouts were so repeated, as 
 if the whole extensive circus was crowded with people, 
 and the huzza given by tens of thousands. Instantly 
 all the vessels on the lake were put in motion, and 
 the oars were busied in flying to that quarter to which 
 the stag advanced. It is their usual custom, when 
 pressed by the hounds, to take the water — to plunge 
 into the lake, and trust to their swimming. Many of 
 the pack jumped into the water — and the chase was 
 continued even in the lake. The unhappy stag found, 
 though he escaped his common enemy, yet other foes, 
 which rendered all his efforts for safety vam. The 
 boats enclosed him, and brought him again to shore. 
 To prolong the diversion, his distress was doubled ; a 
 respite was given for some moments j — hope arose 
 upon his heart, but of short existence ! With looks of 
 terror he soon beheld his pursuers upon him. After 
 many flights and once more watering, the noble 
 fugitive was driven to his forlorn hope ; — his timid 
 nature was changed by necessity, and courage arose 
 from despair; — he stood, and with his horns bayed 
 the approaching hounds — his last and sad ineffectual 
 efforts. He was seized, and by the hunters saved 
 from being torn piecemeal by the dogs. ' " 
 
 To this despicably cruel scene Mr. Hutchinson 
 adds the following well-timed reflections : — 
 
 " Compassion and the finer feelings have nothing 
 to do with the chase : — were man to give way to the 
 
"punch" and the poet laureate. 131 
 
 sympathetic sentiments the distress and misery of the 
 innocent animal which is pursued and hunted down, 
 would overcome the melody of the cry, and the beauty 
 of those artifices which the pursued employs in vain 
 to save his life. — Let such men avoid the chase. 
 Men of robust and hardy constitutions feel the least 
 compassion or sentiment, and trust the least to 
 thought. Such are the heroes of the hunt. I have 
 been told, that after the captive has received his 
 death's wound from the keeper, it is usual for the 
 hunters to compleat their joy, by staining each other's 
 face with the gore." 
 
 "PUNCH" AND THE POET LAUREATE 
 (Wordsworth), 
 
 OR A difference OF OPINION ON THE PROJECTED 
 WINDERMERE RAILWAY (1844). 
 
 The Laureate, in one of his latest sonnets, pours 
 out his "vial of wrath" on the profane idea of 
 introducing railways through the sublime country in 
 which he had made his home. It was a selfish 
 effusion, we must admit ; but something extenuating 
 might be said for the poet, for had he not lived here 
 for half a century in that peace and solitude which he 
 loved so well, and which influenced his gifted mind to 
 pour out immortal verse ? The sonnet runs thus : — 
 ' ' Is there no nook of English ground secure 
 
 From rash assault ? Schemes of retirement sown 
 In youth, and 'mid the busy world kept pure 
 
 As when their earliest flowers of hope were blown, 
 Must perish. How can they this blight endure ? 
 
 And must he, too, his old delights disown, 
 Who, scorns a false utilitarian lure, 
 
 'Mid his paternal fields at random thrown ? 
 Baffle the threat, bright scene, from Orrest Head, 
 Given to the pausing traveller's rapturous glance ! 
 Plead for thy peace thou beautiful romance 
 Of Nature ! And if human hearts be dead — 
 
 Speak, passing winds : — ye torrents with pure, strong. 
 And constant voice, protest against the wrong. " 
 K — 2 
 
132 "punch" and the poet laureate. 
 
 To this sonnet, Mr, Wordsworth pleads, in a note, 
 that this may not be considered a mere poetical 
 effusion, but as his calm and settled opinion upon the 
 proposed railway, and the introduction of steam into 
 such a remote locality. 
 
 " Punch," a few weeks after the appearance of 
 Mr. Wordsworth's sonnet, also gave to the world his 
 views of the introduction of steam into this locality, 
 which we insert that the reader may have the 
 opportunity of comparing the one with the other. 
 It is entitled — 
 
 "By the Laureate." 
 
 "What incubus, my goodness ! have we here, 
 
 Cumbering the bosom of our lovely lake ? 
 
 A steamboat, as I live ! — without mistake ! — 
 
 Puffing and splashing over Windermere ! 
 
 What inharmonious shouts assail mine ear ? 
 
 Shocking poor Echo, that perforce replies — 
 
 ' Ease her ! ' and ' Stop her ! ' — frightful and horrid 
 
 cries. 
 Mingling with frequent pop of ginger beer. 
 Hence, ye profane ! — To Greenwich or Blackwall 
 From London Bridge — go ! steam it if ye will, 
 Ye Cockneys ! and of Whitebait eat your fill ; 
 But this is not the place for you at all ! 
 I almost think that, if I had my will, 
 I'd sink your vessel with a cannon ball ! " 
 
 The poetical history, however, of the Kendal and 
 Windermere Railway will not be complete without the 
 following sonnet, also suggested by Wordsworth's, 
 which appeared shortly afterwards from the pen of 
 Mr. Moncton Milnes, since created Lord Houghton : — 
 " The hour may come — nay, must, — in these our days 
 When the harsh steam-car with the cataract's shout, 
 Shall mingle its swift roll, and motley rout 
 Of multitudes these mountain echoes raise. 
 And thou, the patriarch of these pleasant ways, 
 
 Canst hardly grudge that crowded streets send out, 
 • In Sabbath glee, the sons of care and doubt, 
 To read these scenes by light of thine own lays. 
 Disordered laughter and encounter rude, 
 The poet's finer sense perchance may pain ; 
 
THE ENGRAVER OF THE ROCKS. 133 
 
 Yet many a glade and nook of solitude 
 
 For quiet walk and thought will still remain, 
 
 Where he the poor intruders may elude, 
 
 Nor lose one golden dream for all their homely gain." 
 
 THE ENGRAVER OF THE ROCKS. 
 
 Under this heading we find in Charles Mackay's 
 *' English Lakes," that whilst having a row on lake 
 Windermere, his boatman told him that at a short 
 distance on the eastern side of the lake, were some 
 inscriptions on the rocks, which were the greatest 
 curiosities of the place. The '* Guide-book" having 
 made no mention of them, we were the more anxious 
 to see what they were, and were rowed ashore accord- 
 ingly, at a point not far from Lowwood Inn, Here we 
 found every smooth surface afforded by the rocks — 
 every slab on the stratified formation — covered with 
 inscriptions, engraved with much toil, in letters 
 varying from six to twenty-four inches in height. On 
 one large red stone, of at least ten feet squaie, was 
 engraved — ' 1833. — Money, Liberty, Wealth, 
 Peace ' ; — a catalogue of blessings very much to be 
 desired. On another stone was the simple date, 
 • 1688 ' : expressive enough of the engraver's political 
 sentiments. And on another, in larger characters, 
 *A Slave Landing on the British Strand, 
 becomes free.' All the largest stones and slabs, 
 some of which were horizontal, others vertical, and 
 the rest inclined at various angles, and the whole of 
 ihem giving evidence that the place had formerly 
 been a quarry — were covered with inscriptions of a 
 like purport. The following are a few of the most 
 striking. One immense surface of rock bore the 
 following names, which are transcribed in the original 
 order. — * Sun, Bulwer, Dryden, Davy, Burns, 
 Scott, Burdett, Garrick, Kemble, Gray, Kean, 
 Milton, Henry Brougham, James Watt, Pro- 
 fessor Wilson, Dr. Jenner ' ; to which were added 
 
f34 THE ENGRAVER OF THE ROCKS. 
 
 the words, in characters equally conspicuous, — ' The 
 Liberty of the Press.* ' Magna Charta.' This 
 slab was a testimony apparently, of the engraver's 
 admiration of great intellect. One close alongside of 
 it was of a different style, and bore the date of ' 1836,' 
 followed by the words, ' William IV. President 
 Jackson. Louis Philippe. Britannia Rules the 
 Waves.' Next to that again was a still larger surface 
 of rock, on which was indented, • National Debt, 
 ;£"8oo,ooo,ooo.' 'O Save my Country, Heaven!' 
 * George IIL & William Pitt.' * Money is the 
 Sinew of War.' 'Field Marshal Wellington.' 
 ' HEROie Admiral Nelson.' * Captain Cook.* 
 'Admiral Rodney.* One stone, at least eight feet 
 square, bore but one word in letters a yard long, and 
 that was significant enough, viz. — 'Steam.' On 
 enquiring of the boatman, who it was that had ex- 
 pended so much labour, he pointed out another 
 stone, on which were the words, * John Longmire^ 
 Engraver.' and informed us that it was a person of 
 that name, who had spent about six years of 
 his prime in this work — labouring here alone, and 
 in all weathers — and both by night and by day. 
 He look great pleasure in the task, and was, as the 
 boatman took great pains to impress upon us, rather 
 ' dull ' at the time. This phrase, as he afterwards 
 explained, implies, in this part of the country, that he 
 was deranged ; and I thought, when looking with 
 renewed interest, upon these mementos of his ingenuity 
 and perseverance, misapplied though they were, that 
 it was a happy circumstance that an afflicted creature 
 could have found solace under calamity, in a manner 
 so harmless. There was a method in the work, and 
 a sense too in the poor man's ideas, which showed 
 that his sympathies were in favour of the moral and 
 intellectual advancement of mankind ; and that, amid 
 the last feeble glimmerings of his own reason, he could 
 do honour to those whose intellect had benefited and 
 
THE ROCKS OF LODORE. 1 35 
 
 adorned our age. I could learn no further particulars 
 of him, — our friend, the boatman, not being able to 
 say whether he was dead or alive, or whether his 
 • dulness ' had ever manifested itself in a more 
 disorderly macner than in these inscriptions." 
 
 THE ROCKS OF LODORE. 
 Dr. Dalton in his elegant poem addressed to two 
 young ladies at Whitehaven, speaking of the rocks of 
 Lodore, between which is the cascade made so cele- 
 brated by its " rush and its roar " (and appropriately 
 rendered by Southey in his unique description,) flows 
 thence into Lake Derwent, has the following re- 
 flections : — 
 
 " Horrors like these at first alarm, 
 
 But soon with savage grandeur charm, 
 
 And raise to noblest thought the mind ; 
 
 Thus, nigh thy fall, Lodore reclined, 
 
 The craggy cliff, impending wood, 
 
 Whose shadows mix o'er half the flood 
 
 The gloomy clouds which, solemn fall, 
 
 Scarce lifted by the languid gale 
 
 . O'er the cap'd hill and darkened vale ; 
 
 The ravening Kite and bird of Jove, 
 
 "Which round the serial ocean rove. 
 
 And floating on the billowy sky, 
 
 With full expanded pennons fly 
 
 Their fluttering or their bleating prey, 
 
 Thence with death-dooming eye survey, 
 
 Channels by rocky torrents torn, 
 
 Rocks to the lakes in thunder borne, 
 
 Or such as o'er our heads appear 
 
 Suspended in their mid career, 
 
 To start again at His command 
 
 Who rules fire, water, air and land, 
 
 I view with wonder and delight, 
 
 A pleasing, though an awful sight ; 
 
 For seen with them the verdant isles 
 
 Soften with more delicious smiles. 
 
 More tempting to me their opening bowers, 
 
 More lively glow the purple flowers. 
 
 More smoothly slopes the border gay 
 
 In fairer circle bends the bay. 
 
136 PROFESSOR WILSON AT WASTDALE. 
 
 And last, to fix our wand'ring eyes, 
 Thy roofs, O Keswick, brighter rise, 
 The lake and lofty hills between, 
 Where giant Skiddaw shuts the scene." 
 
 PROFESSOR WILSON AT WASTDALE. 
 
 The Author of" Rambles in the Lake Country," in 
 his wanderings in the Lake District, encountered at 
 Wastdale Head, in the person of an innkeeper there, 
 one of the most characteristic specimens that could 
 well be found of a genuine old Laker — William 
 Ritson. " 1 was most interested," says the writer, "in 
 Ritson's anecdotes of famous men who visited Wast- 
 dale. He had wandered many a day with Professor 
 Wilson, Wordsworth, De Quincey and others. Ritson 
 had been a famous wrestler in his youth, and had won 
 many a country belt in Cumberland. He once 
 wrestled with Wilson, and threw him twice out of 
 three falls. But he owned the Professor was 'a varra 
 bad un to lick.' Wilson beat him at jumping. He 
 could jump twelve yards in three jumps, with a great 
 stone in each hand Ritson could only manage 
 eleven and three-quarters, *T' furst time 'at Professor 
 Wilson cam to VVas'dle Head,' said Ritson, ' he hed a 
 tent set up in a field, an' he gat it weel stock'd wi' 
 bread, an' beef, an' cheese, an' rum, an' ale, an' sic 
 like. Then he gedder't up my granfadder, an' 
 Thomas Tyson, an' Isaac Fletcher, an' Joseph Stable, 
 an' aad Robert Grave, an' some mair, an' theer was 
 gay deed amang 'em. Then, nowt wad sarra, but he 
 mun hev a bwoat, an' they mun a' hev a sail. Well, 
 when they gat into t' bwoat, he lell'd 'em to be par- 
 ticklar careful, for he was liable to git giddy in t' head, 
 an' if yan ov his giddy fits sud chance to cum on, he 
 mud happen tummle in t' waiter. Well, that pleased 
 'em all gaily weel, an' they said they'd take varra girt 
 care on him. Then he leaned back an' called oot that 
 they mun pull quicker. So they did, and what does 
 
DE QUINCE Y. 1 37 
 
 Wilson du then, but topples ower eb'm ov his back i' t' 
 watter wid a splash. Then theer was a girt cry — 
 " 'Eh, Mr. Wilson's i' 't watter ! " an' yan click't, an' 
 anudder click't, but nean o' them cud git hod on him, 
 an' there was sic a scrow as nivver. At last, yan o' 
 them gat him round t' neck as he popped up at teal 
 o' t' bwoat, an Wilson taad him to kep a gud hod, 
 for he mud happen slip him agekn. But what, it was 
 nowt but yan ov his bits o' pranks, he was smirkin' 
 an' laughin' all t' time. Wilson was a fine, gay, girt- 
 hearted fellow, as Strang as a lion, an' as lish as a 
 trout, an' he hed sic' antics as nivver man hed. 
 Whativver ye sed tuU him ye'd get your change back 
 for it gaily seun. . . Aa remember, theer was a 
 "murryneet" at Wastd'le Head that varra time, an' 
 Wilson an' t' aad parson was their amang t' rest. 
 When they'd gitten a bit on, Wilson mead a sang 
 aboot t' parson. He mead it reet off o' t' stick end. 
 He began wi' t' parson furst, then he gat to t' Pope, 
 an' then he turn'd it to th' devil, an' sic like, till he 
 hed 'em fallin' off their cheers wi' fun. T' parson was 
 quite stunn'd, an' rayder vex't an' all, but, at last he 
 burst oot laughin' wi' t' rest. He was like. Naabody 
 could staand it. . . T' saem neet theer was yan o' 
 their wives cum to fetch her husband heam, an' she 
 was rayder ower Strang i' t' tung wi' him afore t' heal 
 comp'ny. Well, he tuk it a' i' gud pairt, but as he 
 went away he shouted oot t' aad minister : ' 'Od dang 
 ye, parson, it wor ye at teed us two togidder ! . . 
 It was' a' life an' murth amang us, as lang as Professor 
 Wilson was at Wastd'le Head.' " 
 
 DE QUINCEY. 
 
 The following brief extract from the life of De 
 Quincey, may be here appropriately placed : 
 
 " It was in the year 1807 that De Quincey made 
 the acquaintance of Coleridge, Wordsworth, and 
 
138 FOX HOW, THE RESIDENCE OF DR. ARNOLD. 
 
 Southey ; and on quitting college in 1808 he took up 
 his abode at the Lakes, and became one of the intel- 
 lectual brotherhood there constituted by these men. 
 Wilson was a resident at the Lakes about the same 
 time. The difference between De Quincey and the 
 Lakists was — that his element was exclusively prose. 
 Like Coleridge, but with peculiarities sufficient to dis- 
 tinguish him from that thinker, he philosophised, and 
 analysed, and speculated in sympathy with the new 
 literary movement of which the Lake party was a 
 manifestation. He resided ten or eleven years at the 
 Lakes ; and during these ten or eleven years we are 
 to suppose him increasing his knowledge of Greek, 
 of German, and of Universal History and Literature. 
 
 " In point of time De Quincey preceded Carlyle as 
 a literary medium between Germany and this country; 
 and some of his earliest literary efforts were transla- 
 tions from Lessing, Richter, and other German 
 authors. 
 
 " These literary efforts, begun while he was still a 
 student at the Lakes, were continued with growing 
 abundance after he left them in 1819." 
 
 FOX HOW, THE LAKE RESIDENCE OF 
 DR. ARNOLD. 
 Fox How was long the residence of the famous Dr. 
 Arnold; '< The name may seem curious, but it was 
 given the place in ancient times. " How " is a fre- 
 quent name in the Lake district, it is from O. N. 
 {/langr), a sepulchral mound. Sometimes the remains 
 of a warrior have been found in the hills so called, but 
 the word seems to have been applied to any mound- 
 like hill. The home of the Arnold's is a beautiful 
 place in itself, but made more so by the remembrance 
 of the good work that has been done here. Here the 
 History of Rome was written. Here also Arnold used 
 to gather around him the young scholars who were 
 
FOX HOW, THE RESIDENCE OF DR. ARNOLD. 1 39 
 
 children of his nature. Since his death it has 
 remained a hallowed spot for the sons of old Rugby. 
 Dr. Arnold gave the three roads between Rydal and 
 Grasmere their names : the highest, " Old Corrup- 
 tion"; the middle, *' Bit-by-bit Reform"; the lowest 
 and most level, "Radical Reform." Wordsworth 
 and his sister Dorothy also added to these new 
 Pilgrim's Progress names, having called a spot " Point 
 Rash Judgment." Along the beautiful walks sur- 
 rounding Fox How, Arnold and his friends studied, 
 thought, succeeded; and sometimes they would form 
 reading parties in some charming nook among the 
 lakes. " I came to Fox How about three weeks ago 
 to meet Matt," writes Clough from Patterdale, July, 
 1844, and goes on to describe their ways: "We 
 began with — breakfast, 8 ; work, 9.30 to 2.30 ; bathe,, 
 dinner, walk, and tea, 2.30 to 9.30; work, 9.30 to ii^ 
 We now have revolutionized to the following consti- 
 tution, as yet hardly advanced beyond paper. Break- 
 fast, 8 ; work, 9.30 to 1.30 ; bathe, dinner, 1.30 to 3 ;. 
 work, 3 to 6 ; walk, ad infinitum ; tea, ditto. M. has 
 gone out fishing, when he ought properly to be work- 
 ing, it being nearly four o'clock, and to-day proceed- 
 ing in theory according to Constitution No. 2. It has, 
 however, come on to rain furiously ; so Walrond, who 
 is working sedulously at Herodotus, and I who am 
 writing to you, rejoice to think that he will get a good 
 wetting." 
 
 The most pathetic incident ot modern literary 
 history is the death at forty-three of Arthur Clough, 
 the close friend of Dr. Arnold and Tennyson. 
 Though his body is buried at Florence, his heart is- 
 enshrined in the undying love of those who knew 
 him in England and America. In the September of 
 1 86 1 he was rambling with Tennyson in the Pyrenees 
 — he seeking health, Tennyson revisiting the spots 
 where he had wandered with Arthur Hallam, thirty- 
 one years before. In less than a month from the 
 
140 AN ENTERTAINING COACHMAN. 
 
 time they parted, this second of the Arthurs Tenny- 
 son loved was dead, and a quotation from " In 
 Memoriam " is inscribed on the Grasmere cenotaph • 
 " Now thy brows are cold 
 We see thee as thou art and know. 
 Thy likeness to the wise below 
 Thy kindred with the great of old." 
 
 AN ENTERTAINING COACHMAN. 
 
 For many years prior to 1866 one John Sheldon 
 drove the coach from Windermere railway station to 
 Keswick, and an entertaining old coachman he was. 
 and full of local information concerning the places the 
 coach was driven through. On one occasion in driving 
 from Patterdale, he remarked : " Now, gentlemen," he 
 would say to his riders, " as you have come all the way 
 from London to see this beautiful scenery, you would, 
 of course, like to know the names of the hills, moun- 
 tains, knolls, and rivers ; we call them ' becks ' about 
 here for shortness. Well, gentlemen, that wooded hill 
 on the left hand is Mell Fell, a rare place for bird's 
 nesting, blackberrying, and nutting. The hill behind 
 us is Saddleback, called by some Blencathra. Looking 
 straight along the line of rail you will see Newland 
 Dod, in the beautiful Vale of Newlands, and the hill 
 on the left of it is Catbells, uprising from the shores of 
 the charming Derwentwater. The three round-headed, 
 undulating hills on our left hand is the back of the 
 poetical Helvellyn ; you don't see so much of 
 Helvellyn from this side as from the other. I have 
 driven along the Keswick road, under the shadow of 
 Helvellyn, many thousands of times. The mountain 
 begins at Dunmail Raise, above Grasmere, and ends 
 in the poetical Vale of St. John, a distance of seven 
 miles. Sir Walter Scott's poem — 
 
 ' As I climbed the dark brow of the mighty Helvellyn ' — 
 is familiar to every one ; and the Vale of St. John is 
 named in the ' Bridal of Triermain.' 
 
AN ENTERTAINING COACHMAN. 141 
 
 " This is Matterdale Moor we are now crossing. 
 The farmers have the right of grazing so many sheep, 
 according to the size of their farms, by paying the 
 small fee of one shilling annually to the Lord of the 
 Manor. There is fine lichens here and on Helvellyn 
 for the hogs." " Hogs ! 1 don't see any hogs," said 
 an elderly rider, whom John afterwards wormed out 
 was a retired pork butcher who was " doing the 
 tourist." " Well," said John, " not pigs, but you see 
 the small sheep running about ? they are a peculiar 
 breed, very hardy, very sweet eating, and are called 
 ' hogs ' for the first year, when stripped of their fleece 
 they are called ' twinters,' and when stripped of their 
 second fleece they are called 'thrunters,' so that's 
 pretty near to ' grunters ; ' but when killed they are 
 called by the butchers ' Helvellyn mutton.' 
 
 " You see yonder white farm-house, on the rising 
 ground on the right hand ? Looking direct over it 
 you will observe a sharp point in the distance ; that 
 is the highest peak of the Helvellyn mountain. We 
 now descend the hill into the village of Dockray, and 
 v/ater the horses at the * Royal ' Hotel. The landlady 
 and I once fell out ; so instead of watering the horses 
 at the ' Royal,' I carried a tin can, hooked on to the 
 back of the coach, and stopped at the brook close by, 
 and watered them there. It was not long before she 
 called out — ' Father, why don't thee water thy horses 
 here, now ? ' and we have been good friends ever 
 since. SAe found out the loss in bitter beer. I'm 
 not her father, but they call me ' father ' about 
 here." 
 
 John wrote some quaint lines about the Ullswater 
 coach, and here they are — 
 
 *' Arriving at Troutbeck, without botheration 
 Ask for John Sheldon's coach—' crack whip ' at the 
 
 station. 
 Two-and-sixpence, you'll own, is a moderate fare, 
 To be driven to Patterdale — ' devil-me-care.' 
 
142 CROSTHWAITE CHURCH AND SOUTHEY'S TOMB. 
 
 He'll point out each mountain and beck in the vales 
 Of Matterdale, Dockray, Glencoin, Patterdale, 
 Describe all the wonders ever heard of or seen, 
 And jingle his jokes, too — all right — all serene." 
 
 CROSTHWAITE CHURCH AND SOUTHEY'S 
 TOMB. 
 
 Thomas Martin, " The Ringer," had great reverence 
 for the name of Southey, and it was most agreeable to 
 meet with an intelligent man who had been familiar 
 with the once Poet Laureate. Martin would say to 
 visitors to the Church, as he uncovered a full-length 
 figure of the poet, " Mr. Southey, in a tour through 
 the Lakes, was so struck with the beauty of Keswick, 
 and the situation of Greta Hall, which was to be let 
 at the time, that he at once decided on taking it as a 
 residence." The figure of the poet is rechning on a 
 couch, beautifully sculptured in Carrara marble, by 
 Mr. Lough, and executed in his best manner, at a cost 
 of ;^i,ioo. The baptismal font in this Church is 
 supposed to be 700 years old. 
 
 Pointing to a monk's head, painted on the north 
 window, Martin would say, " It is not known how old 
 it is. You see the holy man holds a bell in his hand, 
 ready to ring an alarm-apiDeal should the devil attempt 
 to enter by the north door ; the door-way has been 
 built up, so that there is not much fear. Such was 
 the superstition until Mr. Southey came to hve among 
 us, and in the poet's endeavour to remove the feeling, 
 he selected his own grave in the north-west part of the 
 churchyard, as an example to his neighbours ; and the 
 result now is that that once-neglected spot in the 
 churchyard is the most favoured and thickly dotted 
 with gravestones." Martin would then conduct his 
 visitors to the top of the Church tower, " where," he 
 said, " Mr. Southey loved to sit on a summer's 
 afternoon, and read." There was a stool on the flat 
 leaden roof, and the " Ringer," placing it in a 
 
CROSTHWAITE CHURCH AND SOUTHEY'S TOMB. 1 43 
 
 particular position, he continued, " This is where 
 Mr. Southey loved to sit; he would spend hours 
 here." 
 
 In the north-west corner of Crosthwaite Churchyard 
 lies the mortal remains of Robert Southey, beneath a 
 square closed tomb, with the following inscription 
 upon it : — 
 
 HERE LIES 
 THE BODY OF 
 
 ROBERT SOUTHEY, LL.D., 
 
 POET LAUREATE. 
 
 BORN AUGUST 12, 1774 ; DIED MARCH 21, 1843. 
 
 FORTY YEARS A RESIDENT IN THIS PARISH J 
 
 ALSO OF 
 
 EDITH, HIS WIFE, 
 
 BORN MAY 20, 1774; DIED NOV. l6, 1837. 
 **I AM THE RESURRECTION AND THE LIFE, SAITH THE LORD." 
 
 The following is the inscription on the west end of 
 the monument in the church : — 
 
 fatten 
 
 TO THE MEMORY OF 
 
 ROBERT SOUTHEY, 
 
 WHOSE MORTAL REMAINS ARE INTERRED IN THE ADJOINING 
 
 CHURCHYARD. 
 
 HE WAS BORN AT BRISTOL, AUG. XII. M.DCC.LXXIV. 
 
 AND DIED, 
 
 AFTER A RESIDENCE OF NEARLY XL. YEARS, AT GRETA HALL, 
 
 IN THIS PARISH, 
 
 MARCH XXr. M.DCCC.XLIII. 
 
 THIS MONUMtNT WAS ERECTED BY FRIENDS OF 
 
 ROBERT SOUTHEY. 
 
 At the east end of the tomb are the following lines, 
 from the pen of his venerable friend, the late Poet 
 Laureate, Wordsworth : — 
 
144 WOTOBANK. 
 
 Ye Vales and Hills, whose beauty hither drew 
 
 The Poet's steps, and fixed him here, on you 
 
 His eyes have closed ! And ye, loved Books, no more 
 
 Shall Southey feed upon your precious lore, 
 
 To Works that ne'er shall forfeit their renown 
 
 Adding immortal labours of his own — 
 
 Whether he traced historic truth, with zeal 
 
 For the State's guidance or the Church's weal, 
 
 Or fancy, disciplined by studious art, 
 
 Informed his pen, or wisdom of the heart. 
 
 Or judgments sanctioned in the Patriot's mind 
 
 By reverence for the rights of all mankind. 
 
 Wide were his aims, yet in no human breast 
 
 Could private feelings find a holier nest. 
 
 His joys, his griefs, have vanished like a cloud 
 
 From Skiddaw's top ; but he to heaven was vowed 
 
 Through a life long and pure ; and Christian faith 
 
 Calm'd in his soul the fear of change and death. 
 
 WOTOBANK. 
 
 Near the village of Beckermet, in West Cumberland, 
 is a small mound, upon which stands a summer-house, 
 known by the name of " Wotobank." The derivation 
 of this name is assigned by tradition to the following 
 incident : — 
 
 A Lord of Beckermet, with his Lady and servants, 
 were one day hunting wolves. During the chase 
 the lady was missing. After a long and painful 
 search, her body was found on this mound or bank, 
 mangled by a wolf, which was discovered in the act 
 of tearing it to pieces. In the first transport of grief^ 
 the husband exclaimed, "Woe to this bank I" 
 
 " ' Woe to thee. Bank ! ' were the first words that burst, 
 ' And be thy soil with bitter offspring curst ! 
 "Woe to thee, Bank, for thou art drunk with gore 
 The purest heart of woman ever bore ! ' 
 ' Woe to thee, Bank ! ' the attendants echoed round, 
 And pitying shepherds caught the grief-fraught sound."