of that ascent, is a heap of stones, and there ends Westmoreland, and Cumberland begins. The ridge of mountain on the right is Helvellyn, 3324 feet above the level of the sea, which is somewhat higher than Skiddaw, and it retains the snow upon its top much longer than Skiddaw. In a rainy day, innumerable torrents rush down its sides to the road, and run to the Lakes. About midway between Low-wood and Keswick there is a lake, called Leathes Water; which, though bare of wood, is notwithstanding beautiful. The outline of Leathes Water, the hills around it, and the promontories that run into it, render the tout ensemble striking. You will pass through part of Saint John's Vale before you come within sight of Keswick: the mountains which bound that vale are very fine. Of your own accord you will stop to admire, and almost adore, when you first look upon Keswick Vale, Derwent Water, Bassenthwaite Lake, and the surrounding mountains.
At the Queen's Head, at Keswick, you will be well accommodated, and meet with the utmost civility from the Woods, who keep the inn, particularly from Mrs. Wood, who is an exceeding good woman.
The guide charges five shillings a day for his attendance, besides the hire of his horse. If you can ride on horseback, you will be able to see that fairy land far better than in a carriage.
Do not omit going to Watenlagh; it is the most beautiful mountain vale that can be seen; it is literally a valley upon a high mountain, with mountains again rising from it, infinitely higher than the vale. It lies at the top of Lodore Fall, having the rivulet, which is precipitated over the rocks at Lodore, running through it from a small lake at the village of Watenlagh.
Go through Borrowdale, and over the Hawse into Gatesgarthdale. In Gatesgarthdale you will pass under Honister Crag to the left, where are fine slate quarries. From the top of Honister Crag is a prodigiously fine view of the lakes below, and the heaps of mountains all around. The descent from the crag, on the sharp and rocky ridge of it, near to the houses of Gatesgarth, is somewhat tremendous; but it was descended, in 1796, by a female. The head of Buttermere is close to the village of Gatesgarth, and you will ride very near that lake all the way to the village of Buttermere; where is an alehouse, at which you can get admirable ale, and bread and cheese, perchance a joint of mutton.
Few people will like to sleep at the Buttermere alehouse: but, with the help of my own sheets, blanket, pillows, and counterpane, I lodged there a week very comfortably.
From Buttermere I one day walked to the Wad Mines, or blacklead mines, and returned over the top of Honister Crag. Another day, I walked over the mountains by Gatesgarth into Innerdale, and through it to Inner Bridge, on the whole, sixteen miles. If possible Innerdale should be seen, for it is beautiful, particularly about Gillerthwaite, at the head of the lake; and again at the foot of the lake, looking up the vale towards its head. At the alehouse at Inner Bridge, I was obliged to pass the night in a chair by the kitchen fire, there being not a bed in the house fit to put myself upon. The next morning I returned over the mountains, by Scale Force, to my lodgings.—But to return to the travellers on horseback.
At Buttermere you may leave your horses, and walk about a mile to Scale Force, a very lofty curious waterfall. In your way thither you will have a fine view of Crommack Water, and the noble mountains around it. Return to Buttermere, and ride through Newlands Vale back to Keswick.
When you get to the top of the ascent from Buttermere towards Newlands, look behind you, and you will see a prospect that will delight you. On the descent into Newlands Vale on the right, is a very fine mountain torrent. A carriage can go only a small part of this beautiful ride, namely, to the head of Borrowdale, and back again to Keswick.
Drive on the Cockermouth road to Scale Hill; and if you have not seen Buttermere nor Scale Force on horseback, procure a boat to carry you up Crommack Water, to the landing-place near Scale Force. When you have seen that fall, cross the lake to Buttermere, and afterwards return in the boat to Scale Hill, where you left your carriage. From Scale Hill, see also a small lake near Crommack Water, called Lowes Water; it is very pretty. The view of Lorton Vale, near Scale Hill, is very beautiful, particularly if the sun should be shining upon it.
It is a matter to boast of, that of climbing to the top of Skiddaw; but the view from it is hardly worth the fatigue of obtaining it, even in a clear day. On the summit of Skiddaw, to which travellers climb, is a long and broad bed of very large loose pieces of slate. Upon each of the points on this summit of Skiddaw is a huge heap of these slate flakes; one heap is called My Lord, the other My Lady. A dreamer of dreams, not many years since, dreamed that a great treasure was hid under My Lord; the man secretly mounted Skiddaw, removed the slate heap piece by piece; but whether a treasure rewarded him for his labour I never could learn.
Mr. Pocklington has a house well situated on the side of Derwent Water, near Lodore Fall, and he has a very pretty fall of a beck (that is, a small stream) through the wood behind his house; but were I a nymph of Derwent Water, I should, like Niöbe, weep myself to a statue, for the injury committed on taste and nature, by the other erections of that gentleman on one of the islands, and on the banks of this charming lake; for, alas! Mr. Pocklington's slime[1] may be traced in every part of Keswick Vale. It is a pity he has no friend to advise him to blow to atoms every thing he has constructed and planned; and nature, on the ruins, will soon restore its pristine beauty.—Look at Herbert's Island, lately improved by the Rev. Mr. Wilkinson, and you will find taste and nature hand in hand.
Go to Ouse Bridge, at the foot of Bassenthwaite. The views from Ormathwaite and the Vicarage, over the lake to Borrowdale, are enchanting. The walk by the river Greeta, from the lake, towards St. John's Vale, is charming.
If you have time, and can ride on horseback, by all means see Innerdale (before mentioned), and Wast Water. Also ride entirely round Derwent Water; every step you take in that ride will afford you pleasure. About ten o'clock in the morning is the most favourable time to ride on the east side of the lake; the evening, on the west of it; the reason is obvious. An hour or two before noon the reflections of the surrounding objects in the clear lake are more beautiful than can be imagined. The ride from the village of Grange, on the sides
of the mountains on the west shore of the lake, and through Lord William Gordon's woods round to Keswick, is delightful, in a fine evening, when the setting sun gilds the opposite mountains, crags, and woods.
The glow of colouring peculiar to such scenery as is about the Cumberland and Westmoreland Lakes, must be seen to be understood, for it cannot be described by a pen; and no pencil, that I have ever seen, has produced the genuine tint and style of that country, in any degree equal to the drawings of my friend the Rev. Mr. Wilkinson, of Ormathwaite; who has, in his representations, exhibited the character of the Lakes in as great perfection as is possible for imitation to attain.
The prospect during the whole descent of the Cockermouth road into Keswick (which you will have when you return from Scale Hill), is prodigiously fine.
Inquire concerning the Floating Island. It is not at all times visible, but it may be so when you are at Keswick. It is situated towards the head of the lake, and not far from the landing-place at Lodore. In 1794 it was a trifle above the surface of the water. I inquired after it in 1796, and the guide informed me it had not been seen since the time I saw it, in 1794; it was then covered with rushes and coarse grass. It does not vary its situation in the lake, but it moves up and down. Philosophers must assign the cause of its rising and sinking, I cannot. It is, however, a matter of some curiosity.
The Salt Well, on the west side of Derwent Water, is not worth the trouble of getting to it.
The Wad, or blacklead mines, are curious, but difficult of access. In 1796, an overseer at them told me, the pure ore was sold, then, for fifty shillings a pound. I have been informed there are no other blacklead mines in the world, except in some part of the East Indies, and those very trifling. The people of Cumberland are, in general,
