30 Sept: 1769. Wd at N:W. clouds & sunshine. a mile &
½ from Brough on a hill lay a great army encamp'd. to the left open'd a
fine valley with green meadows & hedge-rows, a Gentleman's house
ch continued for near two miles more along the road, and
the crowd (coming towards it) reach'd on as far as Appleby.
On the ascent of the hill above Appleby the thick hanging wood & the
long reaches of the Eden (rapid, clear, & full as ever) winding below
with views of the Castle & Town gave much employment to the
mirror: but the sun was wanting & the sky overcast. oats
& barley cut every where, but not carried in. passed Kirby-thore,
Sr W: Dalston's house at Acorn-bank, Whinfield-park,
Harthorn-oaks, Countess-pillar, Brougham-Castle, Mr Brown (one
of ye six Clerks) his large new house, cross'd the
Eden & the Eimot (pronounce Eeman) with its green
vale, & at 3 o'clock dined with Mrs Buchanan, at
Penrith on trout & partridge, in the afternoon walk'd up the
Beacon-hill a mile to the top, saw Whinfield and Lowther-parks,
& thro' an opening in the bosom of that cluster of
mountains, wch the Doctor well remembers, the Lake of Ulz-water,
with the craggy tops of a hundred nameless hills. these to W: & S:, to
the N: a great extent of black & dreary plains, to E: Cross-fell
just visible thro' mists & vapours hovering round it.
Oct: 1. Wd at S:W: a grey autumnal day, air perfectly calm
& gentle, went to see Ulz-water 5 miles distant. soon left the
Keswick-road & turn'd to the left thro' shady lanes along the Vale of
Eeman, wch runs rapidly on near the way, ripling over the
stones. to the right is Delmaine, a large fabrick of pale red
r
Hassel, behind it a fine lawn surrounded by woods & a long rocky eminence
rising over them. a clear & brisk rivulet runs by the house to join the
Eeman, whose course is in sight & at a small distance.
Farther on appears Hatton S t John, a castle-like old
mansion of Mr Huddleston. approach'd Dunmallert, a fine
pointed hill, cover'd with wood planted by old Mr Hassle
beforemention'd, who lives always at home & delights in planting. walk'd
over a spungy meadow or two & began to mount this hill thro' a broad &
strait green alley among the trees, & with some toil gain'd the summit.
from hence saw the Lake opening directly at my feet majestic in its calmness,
clear & smooth as a blew mirror with winding shores & low points of
land cover'd with green inclosures, white farm-houses looking out among the
trees, & cattle feeding. the water is almost every where border'd with
cultivated lands gently sloping upwards till they reach the feet of the
mountains, wch rise very rude & aweful with their broken tops
on either hand. directly in front at better than 3 mile's distance,
Place-Fell, one of the bravest among them, pushes its bold
broad breast into the midst of the Lake & forces it to alter it's course,
forming first a large bay to the left & then bending to the
right.
I descended Dunmallert again by a side avenue, that was only not
perpendicular, & came to Barton-bridge over the Eeman, then
walking thro' a path in the wood round the bottom of the hill came forth,
where the Eeman issues out of the lake, & continued my way along
it's western shore close to the water, & generally on a level with it. Saw
a cormorant flying over it & fishing. ... (to be continued)
[...]
1 Oct: 1769. The figure of Ulz-water nothing resembles that laid
down in our maps: it is 9 miles long, & (at widest) under a mile in
breadth, after extending itself 3 m: & ½ in a line to S: W: it
turns at the foot of Place-Fell, almost due West, and is here
not twice the breadth of the Thames at London. it is soon again interrupted by
the roots of Helvellyn, a lofty & very rugged mountain, &
spreading again turns off to S: E:, & is lost among the deep recesses of
the hills. to this second turning I pursued my way about four miles along its
borders beyond a village scatter'd among trees & call'd
Water-malloch, in a pleasant grave day, perfectly calm
& warm, but without a gleam of sunshine: then the sky seeming to thicken,
the valley to grow more desolate, & evening drawing on, I return'd by the
way I came to Penrith.
Oct: 2. Wd at S: E:, sky clearing, Cross-fell misty,
but the outline of the other hills very distinct. set out at 10 for
Keswick, by the road we went in 1767. saw Greystock-town &
castle to the right, wch lie only 3 miles (over the Fells) from
Ulz-water. pass'd through Penradock &
Threlcot at the feet of Saddleback, whose furrow'd sides were
gilt by the noon-day Sun, while its brow appear'd of a sad purple from the
shadow of the clouds, as they sail'd slowly by it. the broad & green
valley of Gardies and Low-side, with a swift stream glittering
among the cottages & meadows lay to the left; & the much finer (but
narrower) valley of St John's opening into it:
Hill-top the large, tho' low, mansion of the Gaskarths, now
a Farm-house, seated on an
Skiddaw & its cub call'd
Latter-rig, & saw from an eminence at two miles distance the Vale
of Elysium in all its verdure, the sun then playing on the
bosom of the lake, & lighting up all the mountains with its
lustre.
Dined by two o'clock at the Queen's Head, & then straggled out alone to
the Parsonage, fell down on my back across a dirty lane with my glass
open in one hand, but broke only my knuckles: stay'd nevertheless, & saw
the sun set in all its glory.
Oct: 3. Wd at S: E:, a heavenly day. rose at seven, &
walk'd out under the conduct of my Landlord to Borrodale. the
grass was cover'd with a hoar-frost, wch soon melted, & exhaled
in a thin blewish smoke. cross'd the meadows obliquely, catching a diversity
of views among the hills over the lake & islands, & changing prospect
at every ten paces, left Cockshut & Castle-hill (wch we
formerly mounted) behind me, & drew near the foot of Walla-crag,
whose bare & rocky brow, cut perpendicularly down above 400 feet, as I
guess, awefully overlooks the way: our path here tends to the left, & the
ground gently rising, & cover'd with a glade of scattering trees &
bushes on the very margin of the water, opens both ways the most delicious
view, that my eyes ever beheld. behind you are the magnificent heights of
Walla-crag; opposite lie the thick hanging woods of Ld
Egremont, & Newland-valley with green & smiling fields
embosom'd in the dark cliffs; to the left the jaws of Borodale, with
that turbulent Chaos of mountain behind mountain roll'd in confusion;
beneath you, & stretching far away to the right, the shining purity of the
Lake, just ruffled by the breeze enough to shew it is alive, reflecting
rocks, woods, fields, & inverted tops of mountains,
Keswick, Crosthwait-church, &
Skiddaw for a back-ground at distance. oh Doctor! I never wish'd more
for you; & pray think, how the glass played its part in such a spot,
wch is called Carf-close-reeds: I chuse to set down these
barbarous names, that any body may enquire on the place, & easily find the
particular station, that I mean. this scene continues to Barrow-gate,
& a little farther, passing a brook called Barrow-beck, we
enter'd Borodale. the crags, named Lodoor-banks now begin to
impend terribly over your way; & more terribly, when you hear, that three
years since an immense mass of rock tumbled at once from the brow, &
bar'd all access to the dale (for this is the only road) till they could work
their way thro' it. luckily no one was passing at the time of this
fall; but down the side of the mountain & far into the lake lie dispersed
the huge fragments of this ruin in all shapes & in all directions.
something farther we turn'd aside into a coppice, ascending a little in front
of Lodoor water-fall. the height appears to be about 200 feet, the
quantity of water not great, tho' (these three days excepted) it
had rain'd daily in the hills for near two months before: but then the stream
was nobly broken, leaping from rock to rock, & foaming with fury. on one
side a towering crag, that spired up to equal, if not overtop, the
neighbouring cliffs (this lay all in shade & darkness) on the other hand a
rounder broader projecting hill shag'd with wood & illumined
by the sun, wch glanced sideways on the upper part of the
cataract. the force of the water wearing a deep channel in the ground hurries
away to join the lake. we descended again, & passed the stream over a rude
bridge. soon after we came under Gowder-crag, a hill more formidable to
the eye & to the apprehension than that of Lodoor; the rocks atop,
deep-cloven perpendicularly by the rains, hanging loose & nodding
forwards, seem just starting from their base in shivers: the whole way down
& the road on both sides is strew'd with piles of the fragments strangely
thrown across each other & of a dreadful bulk. the place reminds one of
those passes in the Alps, where the Guides tell you to move on with speed,
& say nothing, lest the agitation of the air should loosen the snows
above, & bring down a mass, that would overwhelm a caravan. I took their
counsel here and hasten'd on in silence.
Non ragioniam di lor; ma guarda, e passa!
(to be continued)
Oct: 3. The hills here are cloth'd all up their steep sides with oak, ash, birch, holly, &c: some of it has been cut 40 years ago, some within these 8 years, yet all is sprung again green, flourishing, & tall for its age, in a place where no soil appears but the staring rock, & where a man could scarce stand upright.
Met a civil young Farmer overseeing his reapers (for it is oat-harvest
here) who conducted us to a neat white house in the village of Grange,
wch is built on a rising ground in the midst of
Castle-crag, invested also with wood on its sides, & bearing on its
naked top some traces of a fort said to be Roman. by the side of this hill,
wch almost blocks up the way, the valley turns to the left &
contracts its dimensions, till there is hardly any road but the rocky bed of
the river. the wood of the mountains increases & their summits grow
loftier to the eye, & of more fantastic forms: among them appear
Eagle's-cliff, Dove's-nest, Whitedale-pike, &c:
celebrated names in the annals of Keswick. the dale opens about four miles
higher till you come to Sea-Whaite (where lies the way mounting the
hills to the right, that leads to the Wadd-mines) all farther access is
here barr'd to prying Mortals, only there is a little path winding over the
Fells, & for some weeks in the year passable to the Dale's-men; but the
Mountains know well, that these innocent people will not reveal the mysteries
of their ancient kingdom, the reign of Chaos & old Night. only
I learn'd, that this dreadful road dividing again leads one branch to
Ravenglas, & the other to Hawkshead.
For me I went no farther than the Farmer's (better than 4 m: from Keswick)
at Grange: his Mother & he brought us butter, that Siserah would
have jump'd at, tho' not in a lordly dish, bowls of milk, thin oaten-cakes,
& ale; & we had carried a cold tongue thither with us. our Farmer was
himself the Man, that last year plunder'd the Eagle's eirie: all the dale are
up in arms on such an occasion, for they lose abundance of lambs yearly, not
to mention hares, partridge, grous, &c: he was let down from the cliff in
ropes to the shelf of rock, on wch the nest was built, the people
above shouting & hollowing to fright the old birds, wch flew
screaming round, but did not dare to attack him. he brought off the eaglet
(for there is rarely more than one) & an addle egg. the nest was roundish
& more than a yard over, made of twigs twisted together. seldom a year
passes but they take the brood or eggs, & sometimes they shoot one,
sometimes
Erne (the Vultur Albicilla of Linnaeus in
his last edition, but in yours Falco Albicilla) so consult him &
Pennant about it.
Walk'd leisurely home the way we came, but saw a new landscape: the features indeed were the same in part, but many new ones were disclosed by the mid-day Sun, & the tints were entirely changed. take notice this was the best or perhaps the only day for going up Skiddaw, but I thought it better employ'd: it was perfectly serene, & hot as midsummer.
In the evening walk'd alone down to the Lake by the side of
Crow-Park after sunset & saw the solemn colouring of night draw on,
the last gleam of sunshine fading away on the hill-tops, the deep serene of
the waters, & the long shadows of the mountains thrown across them, till
they nearly touch'd the hithermost shore. at distance heard the murmur of many
waterfalls not audible in the day-time. wish'd for the Moon, but she was
dark to me & silent, hid in her vacant interlunar cave.
Oct: 4. Wd E:, clouds & sunshine, & in the course of
the day a few drops of rain. Walk'd to Crow-park, now a rough pasture,
once a glade of ancient oaks, whose large roots still remain on the ground,
but nothing has sprung from them. if one single tree had remain'd, this would
have been an unparallel'd spot, & Smith judged right, when he
took his print of the Lake from
gorge
of Borodale. I prefer it even to Cockshut-hill,
wch lies beside it, & to wch I walk'd in the
afternoon: it is cover'd with young trees both sown & planted, oak,
spruce, scotch-fir, &c: all wch thrive wonderfully. there is an
easy ascent to the top, & the view far preferable to that on Castle-hill
(wch you remember) because this is lower & nearer to the Lake:
for I find all points, that are much elevated, spoil the beauty of the valley,
& make its parts (wch are not large) look poor &
diminutive. while I was here, a little shower fell, red clouds
came marching up the hills from the east, & part of a bright
rainbow seem'd to rise along the side of Castle-hill.
From hence I got to the Parsonage a little before Sunset, & saw
in my glass a picture, that if I could transmitt to you, & fix it in all
the softness of its living colours, would fairly sell for a thousand pounds.
this is the sweetest scene I can yet discover in point of pastoral beauty.
the rest are in a sublimer style.
(to be continued without end.)
[...]
Oct: 5. Wd N:E: Clouds & sunshine. Walk'd thro' the meadows
& corn-fields to the Derwent & crossing it went up How-hill, it
looks along Bassinthwaite-water & sees at the same time the
course of the river & a part of the Upper-Lake with a full view of
Skiddaw. then I took my way through Portingskall village to the
Park, a hill so call'd cover'd entirely with wood: it is all a mass of
crumbling slate. pass'd round its foot between the trees & the edge of the
water, & came to a Peninsula that juts out into the lake & looks along
it both ways. in front rises Walla-crag, & Castle-hill, the Town, the road
to
e lake and made it rise in
little waves that broke at the foot of the wood. After dinner walked up the
Penrith-road 2 miles or more & turning into a corn-field to the right,
call'd Castle-Rigg, saw a Druid-Circle of large stones 108 feet in diameter,
the biggest not 8 feet high, but most of them still erect: they are 50 in
number, the valley of St John's appear'd in sight, & the
summits of Catchidecam (called by Camden, Casticand)
& Helvellyn, said to be as high as Skiddaw, & to
rise from a much higher base. a shower came on, & I return'd.
Oct: 6. Wd E: Clouds & sun. went in a
chaise 8 miles along the east-side of Bassingth: Water to
Ouse-Bridge (pronounce Ews-bridge) the road in some part made
& very good, the rest slippery & dangerous cart-road, or narrow rugged
lanes but no precipices: it runs directly along the foot of Skiddaw. opposite
to Widhope-Brows (cloth'd to the top with wood) a very
beautiful view opens down the Lake, wch is narrower & longer
than that of Keswick, less broken into bays & without islands, at the foot
of it a few paces from the brink gently sloping upward stands
Armathwate in a thick grove of Scotch firs, commanding a noble view
directly up the lake. at a small distance behind the house is a large extent
of wood, & still behind this a ridge of cultivated hills, on
wch (according to the Keswick-proverb) the Sun always
shines. the inhabitants here on the contrary call the vale of
Derwent-water the Devil's Chamber-pot, & pronounce the name of
Skiddaw-fell (wch terminates here) with a sort of terror
& aversion. Armathwate-House is a modern fabrick, not large, &
built of dark-red stone, belonging to Mr Spedding, whose
Gr:father was Steward to old Sr Ja: Lowther, & bought
this estate of the Himers. so you must look for Mr Michell
in some
ch stands here near the bridge (that crosses the
Derwent just where it issues from the lake) & sauntering a little by the
water-side I came home again. the turnpike is finish'd from Cockermouth hither
(5 miles) & is carrying on to Penrith. several little showers to-day. A
Man came in, who said there was snow on Cross-fell this morning.
Oct: 7. Market-day here. Wd N:E: Clouds & Sunshine.
little showers at intervals all day. yet walk'd in the morning to Crow-park,
& in the evening up Penrith-road. the clouds came rolling up the mountains
all round very unpromising; yet the moon shone at intervals. it
was too damp to go towards the lake. tomorrow mean to bid farewell to
Keswick.
Botany might be studied here to great advantage at another season because
of the great variety of soils & elevations all lieing within a small
compass. I observed nothing but several curious Lichens, & plenty of
gale or Dutch myrtle perfuming the borders of ye lake. this year
the Wadd mine had been open'd (which is done once in 5 years) it
is taken out in lumps sometimes as big as a man's fist, & will undergo no
preparation by fire, not being fusible. when it is pure soft, black, &
close-grain'd, it is worth sometimes 30 shillings a pound. there
are no Charr ever taken in these lakes, but plenty in Butter-mere-water, which
lies a little way N: of Borrodale, about Martlemas, wch are potted
here. they sow chiefly oats & bigg here,
wch are now cutting, & still on the ground. the
rains have done much hurt; yet observe, the soil is so thin & light, that
no day has pass'd, in wch I could not walk out with ease, & you
know, I am no lover of dirt. Fell-mutton is now in season for
about six weeks; it grows fat on ye mountains, & nearly
resembles venison: excellent Pike & Perch (here called
Bass) trout is out of season. partridge in great
plenty.
tto dress Perch (for M
rsWharton)
eback, take out the bone & all the inwards without breaking them. put in a large lump of butter & salt, clap the sides together, till it melts, & serve very hot. it is excellent. the skin must not be eaten.
Oct: 8. Left Keswick & took the Ambleside-road in a gloomy
morning. Wd E: & afterwds N:E:. about 2 m: from the
Town mounted an eminence call'd Castle-rigg, & the sun breaking out
discover'd the most enchanting view I have yet seen of the whole valley behind
me, the two lakes, the river, the mountains all in their glory! had almost a
mind to have gone back again. the road in some few parts is not compleated,
but good country-road thro' sound, but narrow & stony lanes, very safe in
broad day-light. this is the case about Causeway-foot & among
Naddle-Fells to Lanewaite. the vale you go in has little breadth, the
mountains are vast & rocky, the fields little & poor, & the
inhabitants are now making hay, & see not the sun by two hours in a day so
long as at Keswick. came to the foot of Helvellyn along wch runs an
excellent road, looking down from a little height on
Lee's-water (call'd also Thirl-meer, or
Wiborn-water) & soon descending on its margin. the lake from
its depth looks black (tho' really clear as glass) & from the gloom of the
vast crags, that scowl over it: it is narrow & about 3 miles long,
resembling a river in its course. little shining torrents hurry down the rocks
to join it, with not a bush to overshadow them, or cover their march. all is
rock & loose stones up to the very brow, wch lies so near your
way, that not half the height of Helvellyn can be seen. (to be continued,
but now we have got franks)
[...]
Past by the little Chappel of Wiborn, out of wch the
Sunday-congregation were then issuing.
Past a beck near Dunmail-raise, & enter'd Westmoreland a
second time. now begin to see Helm-Crag distinguish'd from its rugged
neighbours not so much by its height, as by the strange broken outline of its
top, like some gigantic building demolish'd, & the stones that composed
it, flung cross each other in wild confusion. just beyond it opens one of the
sweetest landscapes, that art ever attempted to imitate. (the bosom of
ye mountains spreading here into a broad bason) discovers in the
midst Grasmere-water. its margin is hollow'd into small bays with
bold 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
promontory
ch climb half way up the mountain's side, & discover
above them a broken line of crags, that crown the scene. not a single red
tile, no flaring Gentleman's house, or garden-walls, break in upon the repose
of this little unsuspected paradise, but all is peace, rusticity, & happy
poverty in its neatest most becoming attire.
The road winds here over Grasmere-hill, whose rocks soon conceal the
water from your sight, yet it is continued along behind them, &
contracting itself to a river communicates with Ridale-water, another small
lake, but of inferior size & beauty. it seems shallow too, for large
patches of reeds appear pretty far within it. into this vale the road
descends. on the opposite banks large & ancient woods mount up the hills,
& just to the left of our way stands Rydale-hall, the family-seat
of Sr Mic: Fleming, but now a farm-house, a large
old-fashion'd fabrick surrounded with wood & not much too good for its
present destination. Sr Michael is now on his travels, & all
this timber far & wide belongs to him. I tremble for it, when he returns,
near the house rises a huge crag call'd Rydale-head, wch is
said to command a full view of Wynander-mere, & I doubt it not, for within
a mile that great Lake is visible even from the road, as to going up the crag
one might as well go up Skiddaw.
Came to Ambleside, 18 m: from Keswick meaning to lie there, but on looking
into the best bed-chamber dark & damp as a cellar grew delicate, gave up
Winandermere in despair & resolved I would go on to Kendal
directly, 14 m: farther, the road in general fine turnpike, but some parts
(about 3 m: in all) not made, yet without danger.
Unexpectedly was well-rewarded for my determination. the afternoon was
fine, & the road for full 5 m: runs along the side of Winder-mere with
delicious views across it & almost from one end to the other. it is ten
miles in length, & at most a mile over, resembling the course of some vast
& magnificent river, but no flat marshy grounds, no osier-beds, or patches
of scrubby plantation on its banks. at the head two values open among the
ch we came down, the other
Langsledale, in wch Wreenose & Hard-Knot,
two great mountains, rise above the rest. from thence the fells visibly sink
& soften along its sides, sometimes they run into it (but with a gentle
declivity) in their own dark & natural complexion, oftener they are green
& cultivated with farms interspersed & round eminences on the border
cover'd with trees: towards the South it seem'd to break into larger bays with
several islands & a wider extent of cultivation. the way rises
continually till at a place call'd Orrest-head it turns to S:E: losing
sight of the water.
Pass'd by Ings-Chappel, & Staveley, but I can say no
farther, for the dusk of evening coming on I enter'd Kendal almost in
the dark, & could distinguish only a shadow of the Castle on a hill, &
tenter-grounds spread far & wide round the Town,
wch I mistook for houses. my inn promised sadly having two wooden
galleries (like Scotland) in front of it. it was indeed an old ill-contrived
house, but kept by civil sensible people, so I stay'd two nights with them
& fared & slept very comfortably.
Oct: 9. Wd N:W: clouds & sun. air mild as summer. all
corn off the ground, sky-larks singing aloud (by the way I saw not one at
Keswick, perhaps because the place abounds in birds of prey). went up the
Castle-hill. the Town consists chiefly of three nearly parallel streets almost
a mile long. except these all the other houses seem as if they had been
dancing a country-dance & were out: there they stand back to back, corner
to corner, some up hill, some down without intent or meaning, along by their
side runs a fine brisk stream, over which are 3 stone-bridges. the buildings
(a few comfortable houses excepted) are mean, of stone & cover'd with a bad
rough-cast. near the end of the Town stands a handsome house of Col: Wilson's,
& adjoining to it the Church, a very large Gothick fabrick with a square
Tower. it has no particular ornaments but double isles, & at the east-end
4 chappels, or choirs. one of the Pars, another of the
Stricklands, the 3d is the proper choir of ye
church, & the 4th of ye Bellingcams, a family
now extinct. there
Strickland's chappel several modern monuments,
& another old altar-tomb, not belonging to the family: on the side of it,
a Fess dancetty between 10 Billets (Deincourt?) in the Parr-chappel is
a third altar-tomb in the corner, no fig: or inscription, but
on the side cut in stone an escutcheon of Roos of Kendal (3
Water-Budgets) quartering Parr (2 bars in a bordure
engrail'd). 2dly an escutcheon, Vaire, a Fess (for
Marmion). 3dly. an escutcheon. three Chevronels braced & a
Chief (wch I take for Fitzhugh) at the foot is an escutcheon
surrounded with the Garter, bearing Roos & Parr quarterly,
quartering the other two beforemention'd. I have no books to look in,
therefore can not say, whether this is the Ld Parr of Kendal
(Queen Catharine's Father) or her Brother, the Marquis of
Northampton. it is a Cenotaph for the latter, who was buried at Warwick
in 1571. the remains of the Castle are seated on a fine hill on the
side of the river opposite to the Town. almost the whole enclosure of walls
remains with 4 towers, 2 square & 2 or 3 round, but their upper part &
embattlements are demolished. it is of rough stone & cement, without any
ornament or arms, round enclosing a court of like form & surrounded by a
mote, nor ever could have been larger than it is, for there are no traces of
outworks. there is a
ch it winds.
After dinner went along the Milthrop-turnpike 4 m: to see the falls (or
force) of the river Kent. came to Siserge (pronounce Siser)
& turn'd down a lane to the left. Siser, the seat of the
Stricklands an old Catholick family, is an ancient
Hall-house, with a very large tower embattled: the rest of the buildings added
to this are of later date, but all is white & seen to advantage on a
back ground of old trees: there is a small park also well-wooded. opposite to
this turn'd to the left & soon came to the river. it works its way in a
narrow & deep rocky channel o'erhung with trees. the calmness &
brightness of ye evening, the roar of the waters, & the
thumping of huge hammers at an iron-forge not far distant made it a singular
walk, but as to the falls (for there are two) they are not 4 feet high. I went
on down to the forge & saw the Daemons at work by the light of their own
fires: the iron is brought in pigs to Milthrop by sea from Scotland
&c. & is here beat into bars & plates. two miles farther at
Levens is the seat of Ld Suffolk, where he
sometimes passes the summer. it was a favourite place of his late Countess:
but this I did not see.
Oct: 10. went by Burton to Lancaster. Wd N:W: clouds
& sun. 22 m: very good country well enclosed & wooded with some common
interspersed. pass'd at the foot of Farlton-Knot, a high fell. 4 m: N:
of Lancaster on a rising ground call'd Bolton (pron:
Bouton)-Wait had a full view of Cartmell-sands with here
and there a Passenger riding over them (it being low water) the points of
Furness shooting far into the sea, & lofty mountains partly cover'd with
clouds extending North of them. Lancaster also appear'd very conspicuous &
fine, for its most distinguish'd features the Castle & Church, mounted on a
green eminence, were all, that could be seen. woe is me! when I got thither,
it was the second day of their fair. the Inn (in the principal street) was a
great old gloomy house full of people, but I found tolerable quarters, &
even slept two nights in peace.
Ascended the Castle-hill in a fine afternoon. it takes up the higher top of
the eminence on wch it stands, & is irregularly
ch I did not much care to enter, being the County Gaol & full
of Prisoners, both Criminals & Debtors. from this gateway the walls
continue & join it to a vast square tower of great height, the lower part
at least of remote antiquity, for it has small round-headed lights with plain
short pillars on each side of them, there is a third tower also square &
of less dimensions. this is all the castle, near it & but little lower
stands the Church, a large & plain Gothic fabrick, the high square Tower
at the West-end has been rebuilt of late years, but nearly in the same style.
there are no ornaments of arms, &c: any where to be seen. within it is
lightsome & spacious, but not one monument of antiquity, or piece of
painted glass is left. from the Church-yard there is an extensive sea-view
(for now the tide had almost cover'd the sands, & fill'd the river) &
besides greatest part of Furness I could distinguish Peel-Castle on the
isle of Fowdrey, wch lies off its southern extremity. the
Town is built on the slope & at the feet of the Castle-hill more than
twice the bigness of Aukland with many neat buildings of white stone, but a
little disorderly in their position ad libitum like Kendal. many also extend
below on the keys by the river-side, where a number of ships were moor'd, some
of them three-mast vessels deck'd out with their colours in honor of the Fair.
here is a good bridge of 4 arches over the Lune, wch runs
(when the tide is out) in two streams divided by a bed of gravel,
wch is not cover'd but in spring-tides. below the town it widens
to near the breadth of ye Thames at London, & meets the sea at
5 or 6 m: distance to S:W:
Oct: 11. Wd S:W: clouds & sun. warm & a fine dappled
sky. cross'd the river & walk'd over a peninsula 3 miles to the village of
Pooton wch stands on the beach. an old Fisherman mending his
nets (while I enquired about the danger of passing those
Cockler (as he styled him) driving a little cart with two daughters
(women grown) in it, & his Wife on horseback following, set out one day to
pass the 7 mile sands, as they had frequently been used to do, for nobody in
the village knew them better than the old Man did. when they were about half
way over, a thick fog rose, & as they advanced, they found the water much
deeper than they expected. the old man was puzzled, he stop'd, & said he
would go a little way to find some mark he was acquainted with. they staid a
little while for him, but in vain. they call'd aloud, but no reply. at last
the young women press'd their mother to think, where they were, & go
on. she would not leave the place, she wander'd about forlorn & amazed,
she would not quit her horse, & get into the cart with them. they
determined after much time wasted to turn back, & give themselves up to
the guidance of their horses. the old Woman was soon wash'd off and
perish'd. the poor Girls clung close to their cart, & the horse sometimes
wading & sometimes swimming brought them back to land alive, but
senseless with terror & distress & unable for many days to give any
account of themselves. the bodies of their parents were found soon
after; that of the Father a very few paces distant from the spot,
where he had left them.
In the afternoon wander'd about the town & by the key till it grew dark. a little rain fell.
Oct: [12] Wd N:E: sky gloomy, then gleams of
sunshine. set out for Settle by a fine turnpike road, 29
miles.
Rich & beautiful enclosed country diversified with frequent villages
& churches, very unequal ground, & on the left the river Lune winding
in a deep valley, its hanging banks clothed with fine woods, thro'
wch you catch long reaches of the water, as the road winds about at
a considerable height above it. pass'd the Park (Hon: Mr
Clifford's, a catholick) in the most picturesque part of the way. the grounds
between him & the
Hornby a
little Town on the river Wanning, over wch a handsome bridge is now
in building. the Castle in a lordly situation attracted me, so I walkd up the
hill to it. first presents itself a large but ordinary white Gentleman's house
sash'd. behind it rises the ancient Keep built by Edward Stanley, Lord
Mounteagle (inscribed Helas et quand?) he died about 1524 in
Henry the 8th's time. it is now a shell only, tho'
rafters are laid within it as for flooring. I went up a winding
stone-staircase in one corner to the leads, & at the angle is a single
hexagon watch-tower rising some feet higher, fitted up in the tast of a modern
Toot with sash-windows in gilt frames, & a stucco
cupola, & on the top a vast gilt eagle by Mr
Charteris, the present Possessor. but he has not lived
here since the year 1745, when the people of Lancaster insulted him, threw
stones into his coach, & almost made his Wife (Lady Katherine Gordon)
miscarry. since that he has built a great ugly house of red stone (thank God
it is not in England) near Haddington, wch I remember to have
pass'd by. he is the 2d Son of the Earl of Wemyss,
& brother to the Ld Elcho, Grandson to Col:
Charteris, whose name he bears.
From the leads of the Tower there is a fine view of the country round,
& much wood near the castle. Ingleborough, wch I had
ch might have been easily mistaken for
a long black cloud too, fraught with an approaching storm. now our road
begun gradually to mount towards the Apennine, the trees growing less,
and thinner of leaves, till we came to Ingleton 18 m: it is a pretty village
situated very high & yet in a valley at the foot of that huge creature of
God Ingleborough. two torrents cross it with great stones roll'd along
their bed instead of water: over them are two handsome arches flung. here at a
little ale-house were Sr Bellingcam Graham &
Mr Parker, Ld of ye Manour (one of them 6
feet ½ high, & the other as much in breadth) come to dine.
The nipping air (tho' the afternoon was growing very bright) now taught us,
we were in Craven. the road was all up & down (tho' no where
very steep), to the left were mountain-tops (Weryside), to the
right a wide valley (all inclosed ground) & beyond it high hills again. in
approaching Settle the crags on the left drew nearer to our way, till we
ascended Brunton-brow, into a chearful valley (tho' thin of trees) to
Giggleswick a village with a small piece of water by its side cover'd
over with coots. near it a Church, wch belongs also to
Settle & half a mile farther having passed the Ribble over a
bridge arrived at Settle. it is a small market-town standing directly
under a rocky fell. there are not a dozen good-looking houses, the rest are
old & low with little wooden portico's in front. my inn pleased me much
(tho' small) for the neatness & civility of the good Woman that kept it,
so I lay there two nights, & went
Oct: [13] to visit Gordale-Scar. Wd N:E:
day gloomy & cold. it lay but 6 m: from Settle, but that way was directly
over a Fell, & it might rain, so I went round in a chaise the only way one
could get near it in a carriage, wch made it full 13 m: & half
of it such a road! but I got safe over it, so there's an end, & came to
Malham (pronounce Maum) a village in the bosom of the mountains
seated in a wild & dreary valley. from thence I was to walk a mile over
very rough ground, a torrent rattling along on the left hand. on the cliffs
above hung a few goats:
for all beneath the moon.
as I advanced the crags seem'd to close in, but discover'd a narrow entrance
turning to the left between them. I followed my guide a few paces, & lo,
the hills open'd again into no large space, & then all farther way is
bar'd by a stream, that at the height of about 50 feet gushes from a hole in
the rock, & spreading in large sheets over its broken front dashes from
steep to steep, & then rattles away in a torrent down the valley. the rock
on the left rises perpendicular with stubbed yew-trees & shrubs, staring
from its side to the height of at least 300 feet, but these are not the thing!
it is that to the right, under wch you stand to see the fall, that
forms the principal horror of the place. from its very base it begins to slope
forwards over you in one black & solid mass without any crevice in its
surface, & overshadows half the area below with its dreadful canopy. when
I stood at (I believe) full 4 yards distance from its foot, the drops
wch perpetually distill from its brow, fell on my head, & in
one part of the top more exposed to the weather there are loose stones that
hang in air, & threaten visibly some idle Spectator with instant
destruction. it is safer to shelter yourself close to its bottom, & trust
the mercy of that enormous mass, wch nothing but an earthquake can
stir. the gloomy uncomfortable day well suited the savage aspect of the
place, & made it still more formidable. I stay'd there (not without
shuddering) a quarter of an hour, & thought my trouble richly paid, for
the impression will last for life. at the alehouse where I dined, in Malham,
Vivares, the landscape-painter, had lodged for a week or
more. Smith & Bellers had also been there, &
two prints of Gordale have been engraved by them. return'd to my comfortable
inn. night fine, but windy & frosty.
Oct: [14]. Went to Skipton, 16 miles. Wd N:E: gloomy,
Craven after all is an unpleasing country, when seen from a height.
its valleys are chiefly wide & either marshy, or enclosed pasture with a
few trees. numbers of black
Cattle are fatted here, both of the Scotch breed, & a larger sort of oxen
with great horns. there is little cultivated ground, except a few
oats.
[...] Went thro' Long-Preston & Gargrave to Skipton [...] it is a
pretty large Market-Town in a valley with one very broad street gently sloping
downwards from the Castle, wch stands at the head of it. this is
one of our
Ottley. first up Shodebank, the steepest
hill I ever saw a road carried over in England, for it mounts in a strait line
(without any other repose for the horses, than by placing stones every now
& then behind the wheels) for a full mile. then the road goes on a level
along the brow of this high hill over Rumbald-moor, till it gently descends
into Wharldale: so they call the Vale of the Wharf, & a beautiful
vale it is, well-wooded, well-cultivated, well-inhabited, but with high crags
at distance, that border the green country on either hand. thro' the midst of
it deep, clear, full to the brink, & of no inconsiderable breadth runs in
long windings the river. how it comes to pass that it should be so fine &
copious a stream here, & at Tadcaster (so much lower) should have nothing
but a wide stony channel without water, I can not tell you. I pass'd through
Long-Addingham, Ilkeley (pronounce Eecla) distinguished
by a lofty brow of loose rocks to the right, Burley, a neat & pretty
village among trees. on the opposite side of the river lay
Middleton-Lodge, belonging to a Catholick Gentleman of that name;
Weston, a venerable stone-fabrick with large offices, of Mr
Vavasor, the meadows in front gently descending to the water, & behind a
great & shady wood. Farnley (Mr Fawke's)
Ottley is a large airy Town, with clean but low rustick
buildings, & a bridge over the Wharf. I went into its spatious Gothic
Church, wch has been new-roof'd with a flat stucco ceiling. in a
corner of it is the monument of Tho: Ld Fairfax, &
Helen Aske, his Lady, descended from the Cliffords & Latimers, as her
epitaph says. the figures not ill-cut particularly his in armour, but
bare-headed, lie on the tomb. I take them for the Grand Parents
of the famous Sr Tho: Fairfax.
[...]
Kirstall-Abbey 3
mile from Leedes. [...]
Kirstall is a noble ruin in the Semi-Saxon style of building, as
old as K: Stephen toward the end of his reign, 1152. the whole Church is still
standing (the roof excepted) seated in a delicious quiet valley
on the banks of the river Are, & preserved with
religious reverence by the Duke of Montagu. adjoining to the church between
that & the river are variety of chappels & remnants of the
abbey, shatter'd by the encroachments of the ivy, & surmounted by
many a sturdy tree, whose twisted roots break thro' the fret of the
vaulting, & hang streaming from the roofs. the gloom of these ancient
cells, the shade & verdure of the landscape, the glittering & murmur
of the stream, the lofty towers & long perspectives of the Church, in the
midst of a clear bright day, detain'd me for many hours & were the truest
subjects for my glass I have yet met with any where. as I lay at that
smoky ugly busy town of Leedes, I drop'd all farther thoughts of my journal,
& after passing two days at Mason's (tho' he was absent) pursued my way by
Nottingham, Leicester, Harborough, Kettering, Thrapston, & Huntington to
Cambridge, where I arrived, 22 Oct:, having met with no rain to signify, till
this last day of my journey, there's luck for you!
[...]