AN EXCURSION, &c.

WHEN ever I have read the deſcrip⯑tions given by travellers of foreign countries, in which their beauties and antiquities were laviſhly praiſed, I have always regretted a neglect which has long attended the delightful ſcences at home. The monuments of antiquity diſperſed over this iſland, are many and various; [2]ſome of them aroſe in the remoteſt ages, and point out to us the revolutions and hiſtory of our own kingdom: a degree of knowledge which ought to ſtand firſt in importance with every Engliſhman.

Theſe ſentiments gave riſe to a ſum⯑mer's excurſion, the pleaſures of which I have endeavoured to communicate to the reader in the following pages.

The firſt requiſites for a pleaſure jaunt, are companions of ſuitable taſte and cu⯑rioſity, and conveniences for the journey —they encreaſe every enjoyment, and make every ſcene which preſents itſelf more agreeable—theſe were not wanting.

Thus circumſtanced, we were conduc⯑ted to BOWES, in Yorkſhire; to which place I ſhall firſt attempt engaging the attention of the reader.

[3]BOWES is of great antiquity, in which is all its merit.—The country around it is meanly cultivated, its habitations are melancholy, and what alone claims the attention of a traveller, is the ruin of a caſtle, ſuppoſed by ſome to have been of Roman conſtruction; but by others to be the Turris de Arcubus, built by Allan, firſt Earl of Richmond, in the Conque⯑ror's time. It is ſituated on the old Ro⯑man way, which leads from Cathrick, or the antient Cateractonium.

This caſtle is fifty-three feet high, is built of hewn ſtone, of excellent work⯑manſhip, forming a ſquare of equal ſides of eighty-one feet each; the windows are irregular, and the walls, which are ce⯑mented with lime mixed with ſmall flints, are near five feet in thickneſs.—It is now much defaced, the outward caſing having [4]been ſtripped off in many places; within it appears to have been divided into ſeve⯑ral apartments, one of the lower diviſions of which was ſupported by a central pil⯑lar, from whence a roof of arches has ariſen, the groins ſtill projecting from the walls.

This caſtle is ſituated on the brink of a hill, declining ſwiftly to the ſouthward, at whoſe foot runs the river Greta:—It is ſurrounded with a deep ditch, on the ſouth ſide of which is a plain or platform, apparently calculated for the uſe of the caſtle.—On the eaſtern point of this plat⯑form we were ſhewn the ſcite and remains of a bath, with its aqueduct, which are now totally in ruins, and grown over with weeds and brambles.

On a late incloſure of ſome common lands belonging to Bowes, an antient [5]aqueduct was diſcovered, which had con⯑veyed the water from a place called Le⯑var, or Levy Pool, near two miles diſtant from the caſtle; which was ſufficient, at once to ſupply the garriſon with freſh water, and alſo the baths.

A few ſcanty meadows border the river Greta, and cultivation ſeems to awake in ignorance over the adjoining lands; where the plough ſhare begins to make the traces of induſtry on the ſkirts of the deſert ^*.

[6]An other occaſion, beſides what is men⯑tioned by Camden, may have given the modern name of Bowes, as this place was granted by William the Conqueror to one of his attendant adventurers.

[7]The antient monuments, ſaid by Cam⯑den to be in the church of Bowes, are [8]not now to be diſcovered, neither are there any other antiquities there which can af⯑ford any light to the hiſtory of the place ^*.

[9]From Bowes proceeding towards Weſt⯑moreland, we were reſpited from the ſad ſcene of barrenneſs to which we were obliged to paſs, by ſome infant inclo⯑ſures, and attempts towards cultivation; —the climate, the dreary vicinage of[10]mountains, and the inclement ſkies, ſeem to deny induſtry her natural rewards.

At length Spittle preſents its ſolitary edifice to the view, behind which Stain⯑more ariſes; whoſe heights receive the burthen of both eaſtern and weſtern ſtorms.—As we advanced, a dreary pro⯑ſpect was extended to the eye; the hills are cloathed in heath, and all around is a ſcene of barrenneſs and deformity;— the lower grounds are rent with torrents, which deſcend impetuouſly from the ſteeps in winter; and chaſms, which are har⯑rowed on the ſides of the hills, yawn with ragged rocks, or black and rotten earth. —Here and there ſome ſcattered plots of graſs variegate the proſpect, where a few ſheep find paſturage, and now and then a little rill is ſeen in the deep dell, which, as it flows with diſconſolate meandrings, is tinged with the ſable ſoil through [11]which it paſſes.—No habitation for man⯑kind appears on either ſide, but all is wil⯑derneſs and horrid waſte, over which the wearied eye travels with anxiety ^*.

At the door of the turnpike houſe on Stainmore ſtands a cylindrical ſtone, which ſeems to have been a Roman guide poſt; but the inſcription is ſo obliterated that it cannot now be made out. When we approached Roy Croſs, mentioned by Camden ^†, which is now the boundary [12]ſtone dividing Yorkſhire from Weſtmore⯑land, we perceived it ſtood within the remains of a large entrenchment, de⯑fended by banks of earth ten paces wide, through which the preſent turnpike road now paſſes. Its form is an oblong ſquare, extending from north to ſouth, with two openings on every ſide of the ſquare, im⯑mediately oppoſite to each other, defended by a mound of earth, placed right in the front of each paſs, now riſing from the plane about five perpendicular feet, which is near the height of the entrenchment in its higheſt part.

[13]—The eaſtern ſide is two hundred and ſeventy paces in length, the openings on the ſides are ten paces wide, the moles which defend the ſame are thirty-ſix paces in circumference, and ſtand ten paces from the outward edge of the entrench⯑ment. The aſcent of the adjoining ground on this ſide is gradual for near half a mile.

—The northern end is two hundred and forty-nine paces in length, with two openings therein defended by moles of earth, ſimilar to thoſe on the eaſtern quar⯑ter; and as the ground here is flat for a conſiderable diſtance, ſo this part of the entrenchment was by nature rendered in⯑acceſſible from the north by a deep mo⯑raſs.

[14]—The weſtern ſide is ſimilar to thoſe before deſcribed, being two hundred and ſeventy-eight paces in length, ſtanding on a ſwift deſcent, which falls without in⯑termiſſion for half a mile or upwards.

—The ſouthern end is in length one hundred and eighty-one paces, has its openings and moles as before deſcribed, but ſtands on the brink of a precipice of conſiderable height.—On the higheſt ground within the entrenchment is a large mound of earth, of a ſquare figure, ariſing from the plane near three perpendicular feet, and in circumference fifty-three paces.

We have no account of this entrench⯑ment in hiſtory, and are left to conjecture to what people it might belong.—As it lies on the Roman road, it ſtrikes one with an apprehenſion that it was of [15]Roman original; but the ſingularity of the paſſes and mounds which guard them, do not correſpond with their uſual mode of fortifying a camp; though the interior mound may be well eſteemed the praetorium. From the conflicts between the northern Engliſh and the Normans after the conqueſt, and preceding Wil⯑liam's ceding Cumberland to the Scots, this place may be conceived to have been a camp of one of thoſe powers.

As we travelled from hence for ſeve⯑ral miles, all around was one continued ſcene of melancholy;—the hills encrea⯑ſing in height, the valleys deepning, and growing more deſolate;—the wind ſounded amongſt the rocks, whilſt a hea⯑vy vapour in ſome parts clouded their ſummits; in others driving rain was ſeen ſtreaming along the dells, and ſhrowding their gloomy receſſes: — The wearied [16]mind of the Traveller endeavours to evade theſe objects, and pleaſe itſelf with the fancied images of verdant plains, of ſtreams and happy groves, to which we were approaching.—Whilſt we were thus engaged, unexpectedly the ſcene opened, and from ſuch a horrid wild, gave us a proſpect as delightful as the other was diſguſting.

Over a rugged and rocky foreground, we looked upon STAINMORE-DALE in front; her verdant meadows cheared the eye, her ſweet ſequeſtered cottages, her graſſy plains, and little ſhades of ſyca⯑mores, ſeemed enchanting, as their beau⯑ties were enhanced by the deformity from which they had eſcaped. On the right hand a mountain ariſes, emerſing its grey head and naked brow in clouds; the ſides are barren rocks, in whoſe chinks here and there a few ſhrubs are ſeen [17]clinging, and caſt a teint of green to va⯑riegate the ſtorm-bleached precipice.— On a wild and forlorn ſituation, in an opening on the ſide of a mountain, HELL⯑BECK HALL is diſcovered, covered with trees; the place ſeems calculated for diſ⯑content, and hidden from all that is chearful in the world, is befitted to a mind of diſappointment and deſpair; all its proſpect is barrenneſs, the voice of water falls, of breezes mourning in the branches of the copſe, or hiſſing on the fiſſures of the rock, its muſic; day-excluding ſha⯑dows make it gloomy, and over-hanging vapours damp and dreary.

— Yet Hellbeck has its beauties;—it contraſts with the vale beneath, where the far out-ſtretching plain reaches to the very bounds of Cumberland; whoſe lofty mountains were ſeen from our then ſta⯑tion, tinged with blue vapours, and [18]mixing their ſummits with the ſky.—In the fore ground lays BROUGH, whoſe an⯑tient caſtle, formerly the ſeat of Pem⯑brokes, affords a noble object; around which rich meadows dreſt in the brighteſt green and freſh verdure after mowing, plots of ripening corn, ſparkling ſheets of water ſeen through the trees which deck their margins, the windings of each brook, little groves of aſh and ſycamore, fantaſtically diſperſed and intermixed with villages and cots, form the beauties of the vale; on this hand extending to⯑wards Kirbv Steven, on that to Dufton, and in front as far as Penrith Beacon.

As we begun to deſcend the hill to⯑wards Brough, and leave Stainmore's de⯑ſert, we paſſed near an antient Roman fortification called MAIDEN CASTLE.— The Roman road has led immediately through it; it forms a ſquare, and has [19]been built of ſtone;—each ſide of this ſquare is forty paces in length, and is defended by out-works; the neareſt being a ſmall ditch with a breaſt-work of large ſtones ſet erect, and the outward one a ditch and mound of earth.—This place has been of great ſtrength in former times from its natural ſituation, com⯑manding the paſs from Brough;—the aſ⯑cent on the ſide oppoſite to Brough is very ſteep for upwards of a mile, to the ſouth it is inacceſſible by reaſon of the precipice on whoſe brink it ſtands, and towards the north the ground is every where rugged and mountainous ^*.

[20]The night was ſpent at Brough.—Fa⯑tigue gives a reliſh beyond what the ſons of eaſe can poſſibly experience in the midſt of their luxury. Beds of down are only conſcious of anxiety and wearineſs to reſtleſs ambition and greatneſs. The peaſant, breathing health from his la⯑bours, ſleeps emparadiſed on his bed of contentment and chaff.

BROUGH is now divided into two ſmall mean towns, the one called Church Brough, the other Market Brough, ſepa⯑rated by a little brook which falls into the River Eden.—Huſbandry is very little advanced here; the management of graſs land is the farmer's whole excellence, the meadows being kept in good order, and very wealthy.—The inhabitants are ig⯑norant of men and manners, but ſubtle and crafty.

[21]On parties of pleaſure time ſhould ne⯑ver be limited;—to ride poſt through a country is too much the cuſtom of tra⯑vellers, by which they can reap no more than a general idea of it.—The ſpecula⯑lative traveller is never confined to roads, times, or ſeaſons; but as the circum⯑ſtances exciting his curioſity lay either to the right or left, he purſues the objects of his attention, without regard to hours or rules.

The pleaſantneſs of the morning called us very early from Brough;—the dawn advanced with a deep calm,—the clouds broke from the hills, and drew their grey veil from the face of morning, revealing her in bluſhes,—all the valley lay wrapped in ſtillneſs;—care and induſtry had not departed from their night's receſſes,—the ear was huſhed, and all around ſeemed to [22]be the region of tranquility;—ere it was long various ſounds grew on the ſenſe, and the living landſcape gave us new pleaſures, where the buſy cottagers were all abroad in the ſeveral occupations of the field.

As we purſued our journey, at an open⯑ing of the road to the left we viewed the ruins of BROUGH CASTLE. In former times this was a formidable fortreſs, and ſaid to be of Roman conſtruction. The building to the eaſtern ſide is ſemicircu⯑lar, and ſeems to be of modern architec⯑ture; but to the weſt there remains a noble tower, apparently of great antiqui⯑ty, and built in the form and ſtile of other Roman edifices in the north of Eng⯑land. The whole caſtle ſtands on a very conſiderable eminence, ariſing ſwiftly from the plain; and by its outworks ſhews it to have been a place of great ſtrength.

[23]In the beginning of the laſt century it was repaired by the Counteſs of Pem⯑broke, who made it her reſidence. This appeared by an ^* inſcription that lately ſtood over the ſouth entrance, which alſo deſcribed that it had ſuffered by fire, and laid in ruins above a century preceding. [24]The ſtone which contained this inſcrip⯑tion ſome few years ago fell down and was deſtroyed.

As the Sun advanced he gave various beauties to the ſcene;—the beams ſtream⯑ing through the diviſions in the moun⯑tains, ſhewed us their due perſpective, and ſtriped the plain with gold;—the light falling behind the caſtle, preſented all its parts perfectly to us,—through the broken windows diſtant objects were diſ⯑covered,—the front ground laid in ſha⯑dows ^*. On the left the proſpect was ſhut [25]in by a range of craggy mountains, on whoſe ſteeps ſhrubs and trees were ſcat⯑tered;—to the right a fertile plain was ex⯑tended, ſurmounted by diſtant hills; over their ſummits the retiring vapours, as they fled the valley, dragged their watery ſkirts, and gave a ſolemn gloom to that [26]part of the ſcene. Behind the building, the lofty promontary of Wilbore Fell lifted its brow, tinged with an azure hue, and terminated the view.

Half mankind know nothing of the beauties of nature, and waſte in indolence and ſleep the glorious ſcene which ad⯑vancing morning preſents;—as we paſt on, the varied proſpect kept attention exerted.

At the diſtance of a mile from Brough the village of WARKUP, to the left, af⯑fords an agreeable view.—Warkup Hall, ſhrowded with a rich wood of ſycamores, overtops the village; the verdure of the meadows, with ſome extenſive fields of yellow corn, contraſted by the hills of paſture grounds which lay on the ſouthern ſide, brown with the ſummer heat, and tufted with bruſh-wood, gave a pleaſing [27]variety; whilſt the morning beam break⯑ing aſlant upon the valley, and gliſtening on the brook, with the blue teints of ſmoke that aroſe from the hamlets, painted the rural ſcene.—We were fur⯑niſhed with ideas which ſtill rendered the proſpect more pleaſing, as they reminded us of the ſocial ſpirit of the owner of Warkup; in whoſe life hoſpitality and benevolence are truly characteriſed.

The valley now growing more exten⯑ſive, encreaſed its varieties, and pleaſed us with a new ſcene of advancing culti⯑vation and huſbandry. The large tracts of ground which we paſt along, were lately common, but are now dividing and forming into incloſures.

At the ſixth mile-ſtone, we ſtopped to admire the ſingularity of the view to the right, where a range of mountains, ariſing [28]from the extenſive plain over which we were travelling, ſtretched to the weſtward, and afforded a romantic and noble ſcene; the neareſt hills, with rocky brows and barren cliffs, raiſed their grey fronts a⯑bove the bruſh-wood which girted them in the midſt; whilſt their feet in haſty ſlopes, deſcended into the vale in paſtu⯑rage; further retiring from the eye the mountain called Croſs Fell, with a front of naked ſtones, overtops all the adjoining hills; being ſaid to exceed the mountain of Skiddow one hundred and ten perpen⯑dicular feet in height.—Further extending weſtward the chain of mountains lay in perſpective, till they died away upon the ſight, and in azure hue ſeemed to mix with the ſky; whilſt at the foot of this vaſt range of hills, three ſmaller mounts of an exact conic form running parallel, beautified the ſcene, being covered with verdure to their crowns. The neareſt, [29]called Dufton Pike, was ſhadowed by a paſſing cloud, ſave only the ſummit of its cone, which was touched by a beam, that pointed it with gold;—the ſecond pike was all enlightened, and gave its verdure to the proſpect, as if mantled with velvet;—the third laid ſhadowed, whilſt all the range of hills behind were ſtruck with the ſunſhine, ſhewing their cliffs, their caverns, and their dells, in ſtrange and groteſque variety, and giving the three pikes a pictureſque projection on the landſcape:—as if nature delighted to charm the eye of man, ſhe at this time caſt an accidental beauty over the ſcene. The ſmall clouds which chequered the ſky, as they paſſed along, ſpread their flitting ſhadows on the diſtant mountains, and ſeemed to marble them; a beauty which I do not recollect has ſtruck any painter, and which has not been de⯑ſcribed even by the bold hand of the im⯑mortal [30]Pouſin. The moſt exquiſite fancy of a painter could not have devized a more pleaſing variety of light and ſha⯑dow, than what was caſt upon this pro⯑ſpect.

APPLEBY, to which we now approach⯑ed, though placed on a very elevated ſitua⯑tion, was concealed from our view till we arrived within half a mile; when from the hill which we had aſcended, it gave us an agreeable ſurprize. On the brink of a lofty eminence, fronting towards the eaſt, at whoſe foot runs the river Eden, the Caſtle preſented itſelf. The ſteep on whoſe brow this noble edifice is erect⯑ed, is richly cloathed with wood, ſave only where a rugged cliff of a red hue, breaks through the trees, and gives an agreeable variety to the landſcape;—the front of the caſtle which preſented itſelf is irregular and antique, but loſes great [31]ſhare of its beauty by the joints of the building being whitened and bedaubed with lime. Over this front the top of a fine ſquare tower is diſcovered, whoſe cor⯑ners ariſe in turrets. The landſcape to the left is richly wooded;—to the right it is divided by hanging gardens which adjoin to the town, overtopped with the dwellings. The pavillions belonging to the houſe of John Robinſon, Eſq with the parterres, and ſloping plots of graſs ground, modernize a ſcene, which con⯑demns all factitiouſneſs of taſte; and by the ſimplicity and elegance, nature pre⯑ſents to us on the adjoining lands, re⯑proves the diſtortions which ſhe receives from dull right lines and angles;—but whilſt I cenſure faſhion, I revere the owner of the manſion, whoſe excellencies are too eminent to want the traveller's applauſe.

[32]As we approached the bridge, and caſt our eyes up the valley, we were delighted with the happy aſſemblage of woods and meadows which form the little vale where the Eden flows. Through the thronging branches the water was ſeen in many places reflecting a tremulous beam, and ſparkling in the ſun's rays;—over the val⯑ley red cliffs and rocks, on this hand ap⯑pear projecting through the trees, on that is ſeen the lofty front of the caſtle.

The proſpect from the terrace which is under the eaſtern front of the caſtle, is very beautiful;—to the right the river Eden forms a winding lake▪ for the diſ⯑tance of half a mile, whoſe banks are cloathed with lofty hanging woods, de⯑ſcending in a ſwift but regular ſweep to the brink of the ſtream. Below us the water murmured over a wear, where a [33]mill added to the pleaſing ſounds. On the left red cliffs and precipices ariſe per⯑pendicular from the water, over whoſe brows oaks and aſhes hanging, render their aſpect more romantic by the ſolemn ſhade.—On the ground above, the public road leading to Appleby winds up the hill, on whoſe ſides ſome cottages are ſcattered; whilſt all behind mountains form the diſtant ground, ſhadowed with clouds ^*.

[34]Whilſt we ſtayed here enjoying this ſweet ſcene, I could not forbear pointing out to my companion a little tenement which ſtood oppoſite to us, near to the brink of the river; where the faireſt maid reſides that graces Eden's banks;—ſtately and tall, ſhe ſeems the lilly of Eden's gar⯑den, whilſt ſhe is fair and meek as lillies too; in her countenance beauty is graced with intelligence, and in her behaviour innocence is mixed with politeneſs.

The garden grounds around Appleby caſtle are without ornament, and are cal⯑culated for uſe only. On the weſtern ſide, [35]detached from the reſt of the edifice, is a very lofty ſquare tower, which the peo⯑ple call Caeſar's tower, and which from its form appears to be Roman;—the cor⯑ners form a projection of near a foot from the plane of each front, and riſe above the reſt of the building in ſquare turrets, now covered with lead, the remaining part of the top being embraſured;—there are two ſmall windows on each front near the middle of the building, parallel to each other. This tower is defended by an outward wall, forming a kind of creſ⯑cent, at the diſtance of about twelve paces, now remaining near twenty feet in height, ſtrongly ſuſtained on the outſide by bu⯑traſſes, erected on an eminence thirty paces in aſcent, and defended by a deep ditch without.—The quarter fronting to the caſtle lies open to the area, which is incloſed by a wall continuing from the points of the creſcent.

[36]The great hall is worthy the obſerva⯑tion of travellers, there being encloſed in a caſe in the wainſcot a fine piece of por⯑trait painting, of the Pembroke family, ornamented with their pedigree, and hiſ⯑torical notes of their lives and atchieve⯑ments.—A ſtranger is from thence con⯑ducted through an adjoining room, where the ragged remains of embroidered fur⯑niture give you a moſt deplorable idea of decaying magnificence, and the vanity of pride; when the doors of a cloſet being ſuddenly thrown open you are ſtartled from your reverie by the ſhaking of ar⯑mour, and the ſight of a compleat ſuit, trembling in every joint:—this armour is preſerved with great attention, as having been worn by the laſt Earl of Weſtmore⯑land, who has been a man of very ſmall ſtature;—the arms are richly emboſſed and inlaid with gold.

[37]In its Ichnography this caſtle is not much unlike to the ruins of Brough; the towers being detached from the main edi⯑fice, and placed to the weſt.

APPLEBY CASTLE is one of the ſeats of the Earl of Thanet, but of late years has been much neglected by the family. —Lord Thanet is hereditary Sheriff of the county of Weſtmoreland, and is entitled to many noble privileges there; ſome of which, in this age of liberty and cultiva⯑tion, are rather oppreſſive; his free chace in particular.

The great poſſeſſions of the Counteſs of Pembroke, in this country, came into the Thanet family in the following man⯑ner:—John Earl of Thanet ſucceeded his mother, Margaret Counteſs of Thanet, as Baron of Clifford, Weſtmoreland, and [38]Veſey, in the year 1676; and in the year 1678 he alſo ſucceeded his couſin the La⯑dy Aliathea, ſole daughter and heir of James Earl of Northampton, by his firſt wife the Lady Iſabella, his mother's ſiſter. Whereby he became poſſeſt of the whole inheritance of his grandmother the Coun⯑teſs of Pembroke ^*.

The town of Appleby chiefly conſiſts of one wide continued ſtreet, hanging upon the ſwift decline of a hill, in a direction north and ſouth; the caſtle terminating it on the ſummit, the church at the foot. —The ſituation is delightful in the ſum⯑mer ſeaſon, but in the winter very cold; the natural diſadvantages of its ſcite be⯑ing encreaſed by the great ſearcity of coal; to ſupply which want, wood and peats are chiefly uſed as fuel.—The meadows [39]and paſture grounds are beautiful, but there is little tillage, it having been a re⯑ceived opinion for ages paſt, that grain would not ripen or come to perfection ſo near the moors and mountains, from whence a continued moiſt vapour is borne into the valley, which blights the corn in its bloſſom, or prevents it filling or maturing. But this abſurdity is declin⯑ing through experience; which hath taught the inhabitants, that the want of knowledge in agriculture was all the de⯑fect.

This is a very antient Borough, and by preſcription ſends two members to par⯑liament.—It is the county town, but is not bleſt with a ſituation for trade;—the markets are not populous, the country adjoining, by reaſon of its extenſive waſtes and uncultivated lands, being thinly inhabited.—This is a corporation [40]town, and is governed by a mayor, al⯑dermen, and common council.—The late conflicts in political matters have enriched the inhabitants, the conteſted election for this Borough having beſtowed upon the burgage owners many thouſands of pounds.

The place where the judges of Aſſize ſit in judgment on criminals is very an⯑tique and remarkable;—by the arms placed on one of the corner pillars, it ap⯑pears to have been erected by the Pem⯑broke family;—it is ſituate in the market⯑place fronting to the north, is opened on the ſides by a rude baluſtrade, and in the front is ſupported by pillars: ſo that it may be truly ſaid, the Judge ſits diſpen⯑ſing juſtice in the forum.

The buildings in this place are chiefly antient; ſome few modern houſes of red [41]free ſtone, which have a remarkable fine effect, are interſperſed. Near the ſummit of the hill ſtands an obeliſk, a pillar of the Ionick order, ariſing on ſome few ſteps; on the baſe of which is cut this remarkable inſcription,—‘Preſerve your liberties, maintain your rights.’ It ſeems to be placed there as a public ſa⯑tire on the conduct of the burgage owners, and to ſay, hither and no fur⯑ther the conflagration of public virtue advanced:—As it had its origin in the conteſted elections, it excites a ſmile of deriſion on the countenance of the travel⯑ler, to whoſe mind it renews the odious ideas of the corruptions of this age.—In the midſt of the town, to the diſgrace of the corporation, ſtands a filthy ſlaughter-houſe and ſhambles.

There is a ſchool amply endowed be⯑longing [42]to this place ^*. Before the door of the ſchool-houſe ſome Roman altars are placed; amongſt theſe antiquities one Reginald Bainbrig has given a memorial of his folly to poſterity, by ſome inſcrip⯑tions in antique characters, to celebrate his own memory; in which, at leaſt, his Latin inelegance "qui docuit hic," might have been ſpared.

[43]The road which we purſued from Ap⯑pleby, for ſeveral miles, gave us great pleaſure. The valleys through which the river Eden runs are ſingularly beautiful; their woody banks, and level meads, af⯑forded a variety of landſcapes, particularly below Crackenthorp.

We paſſed by Kirby Thore, where no remains of ancient Roman grandeur, ſpo⯑ken of by Camden, are now to be found. —Acorn Bank, the ſeat of William Nor⯑ton, Eſq and Temple Sowerby, laid alſo in our way; of which we were told no⯑thing memorable, but that there remained to this day a pecuniary mulct, paid to the Lord of the Manor, in lieu of his cuſ⯑tom with each bride within his juriſdic⯑tion.—It is an extra-parochial place, and from its ancient owners, the Knights [44]Templars, enjoyed many privileges, which are now obſolete.

We paſſed WHINFIELD PARK, an extenſive foreſt, the property of the Earl of Thanet; where we had the pleaſure of viewing a large tract of ground, lately encloſed from the park, growing corn. Nothing can give greater ſatisfaction to the eye of the traveller, than to behold cultivation and induſtry ſtretching their paces over the heath and waſte, the foreſt and the chace;—population muſt follow, and riches enſue.—In Whinfield the re⯑mains of an ancient oak of prodigious ſize, is ſhewn to ſtrangers, called Three Brother tree, a name ariſing from the concealment of three brethren within its cavity.—On the way ſide, a ſhattered trunk of an oak, called White Hart tree, is ſeen, a cotemporary perhaps of the other, though inferior in ſize;—the mo⯑nument [45]of elapſed centuries, and the ef⯑figy of old age; ſtretching forth its wi⯑thered limbs on one ſide, and on the o⯑ther a ſcanty foliage, and poor remnant of life. This tree is nine yards and two feet in circumference.

A STONE PILLAR, erected by the ſide of the road, next attracted our attention; near to which was placed a ſtone table. The ſtalk of the pillar is ſexagon, the top of it ſquare; on the ſides of this ſquare are repreſented, in ſeveral quarterings, the arms of the Pembrokes, a ſouth dial, and the following inſcription:

‘This Pillar was erected Anno Domini 1656, by the Right Honble Ann, Coun⯑teſs Dowager of Pembroke, &c. Daugh⯑ter and ſole Heireſs of the Right Honble George Earl of Cumberland, for a me⯑morial of her laſt parting in this place [46]with her good and pious mother, the Right Honble Mary, Counteſs Dowager of Cumberland, the 2d of April, 1616; in memory whereof ſhe alſo left an an⯑nuity of 4l. to be diſtributed to the poor of the pariſh of Brougham every 2d day of April for ever, upon the ſtone table here hard by. Laus Deo.’

We quitted the high road, in order to paſs by BROUGHAM CASTLE, a ſpacious ruin, ſituate on the banks of the river Yeoman.—That we might enjoy the proſ⯑pect to advantage, we croſſed over the river, and made a ſweep round the mill, which ſtands almoſt oppoſite to Brougham, from thence the view opened upon us de⯑lightfully.

—The mill with its ſtreams lay on the fore ground to the left;—a beautiful and ſhining canal, formed by the river Yeo⯑man, [47]margined with ſhrubs, laid ſpread⯑ing to the right;—in front, the ſtreams which fell over the wear made a foaming caſcade; immediately on the oppoſite brink of the channel ariſes BROUGHAM CASTLE;—three ſquare towers projecting, but yet connected with the building, form the front;—from thence, on either ſide, a little wing falls back ſome paces; to the north eaſt a thick grove of planes and aſhes blocks up the paſſage, and the gate⯑way;—to the ſouth weſt the walls ſtretch out to a conſiderable diſtance, along a ſine graſſy plain of paſture ground, terminated by a tower, one of the out-poſts of the caſtle;—in the centre of the building a⯑riſes a lofty ſquare tower, frowning in Gothick ſtrength, and gloomy pomp.— The ſhattered turrets which had formed the angles, and the hanging gallery which had communicated with each, were grown with ſhrubs and waving [48]brambles.—The ſun beams which ſtruck each gaſping loup, and bending window, diſcovered the inward devaſtation and ruin; and touched the whole with admi⯑rable colouring and beauty; to grace the landſcape, fine groups of cattle were diſ⯑perſed on the paſture; and through the tufts of aſh trees, which were irregularly diſperſed on the back ground, diſtant mountains were ſeen ſkirting the horizon.

The lower apartment in the principal tower is ſtill remaining entire; being covered with a vaulted roof of ſtone; conſiſting of eight arches, which as they ſpring from the ſide walls, are ſupported and terminate on a pillar, in the centre. —The apartment mentioned to have been in Bowes Caſtle, was aſſuredly of the ſame architecture; as appears from the remains of the groins, ſtill projecting from [49]the walls there, together with part of the elevation of the centric pillar ^*.

Having now entered the county of of Cumberland, and paſſing on behind CARLTON, the ſeat of James Wallace, Eſq the eye wandered with delight over a fine cultivated country, from whence we had a diſtant view of the rich valley of Lowther, decked with noble and extenſive woods.—As we approached to PENRITH, the mountains and piles of [50]rocks which ſtand on Hull's-water, af⯑forded an auguſt ſcene;—and at the ter⯑mination of the road, the ruins of Penrith Caſtle preſented themſelves.—The genius, the virtue and induſtry, of the owner of theſe rich lands, which we were then paſſing, aroſe to our thoughts;—the be⯑nevolent mind muſt ever be touched with pleaſure, when the meritorious man is re⯑warded in this world for his excellence.

PENRITH is an agreeable town, ſituate on the eaſy decline of a hill, to the ſouth⯑ward;—it is unchartered, being governed by the Steward of the Honor, and a Jury. —A confiderable manufactory of cotton and linen checks is carried forward here. —The houſes in general are well built, and the inhabitants are facetious and po⯑lite.—The name of this place is derived from the colour of the hills near it, Pen⯑roeth being in the ancient Britiſh language [51]a Red Hill.—Here we met with the ut⯑moſt civility, every one we addreſt ſhew⯑ing themſelves ready to give us all the information in their power, of what was curious in the country.

Our firſt excurſion from Penrith was to mount the ſteep hill on which the beacon is placed, upwards of a mile to the north⯑ward of the town;—the labour was great by which we aſcended this mount, but the view from thence amply rewarded our fatigue.—The beacon houſe is a ſquare building of ſtone, and is happily ſituated for the purpoſe of alarming the country in times of public danger, as it com⯑mands a very extenſive vale.

—The northern window of the beacon kouſe affords a proſpect of Croſs Fell, with the Pikes of Dufton, together with a chain of mountains extending from eaſt [52]to weſt near thirty miles; which on the weſtern point ſink in the ſpacious plain where the city of Carliſle lies. The utmoſt bounds of this view are formed by a ridge of Scotch mountains.—Some faint ap⯑pearance of St Mary's church, marks to the eye the ſcite of Carliſle.

—The eaſtern window preſented to us a view of the country we had paſſed, bounded by the hills of Stainmore, and the lofty promontary of Wilbore-fell above Kirby Stephen, with its neighbouring mountains.

—The ſouth window returned to us the view of Brougham Caſtle, with its plains of paſture ground.—The ſpreading woods of Lowther, intermixed with rich culti⯑vated lands, form the riſing grounds.— Some parts of the lake of Hull's-water are ſeen, whilſt the mighty rocks and moun⯑tains [43]which hemn in the lake, lift up their heads in rude confuſion, and crown the ſcene.

—The weſtern window affords a new, and not leſs pleaſing proſpect;—the town of Penrith lay before us, and here and there the river Yeoman ſhewed its wind⯑ings through its woods.—The hill which riſes above the town is crowned with the awful remains of a royal fortreſs;—time has deſpoiled its grandeur, but its Honors ſtill ſurvive to its noble owner the Duke of Portland, who therewith holds the Ho⯑nor of Penrith, formerly a royal franchiſe. —Beyond theſe objects, amongſt a range of mountains, at the diſtance of eighteen miles, Skiddow is ſeen, with his majeſ⯑tic front, ſurmounting all the high lands that terminate the view.

—The whole proſpect from the beacon [54]hill as you turn every way, preſents you with a vaſt theatre, upwards of one hun⯑dred miles in circumference, circled with ſtupendous mountains.

Common juſtice requires, that in what⯑ever ſtation of life merit is diſcovered, it ſhould receive a degree of praiſe propor⯑tioned to its excellence.—From this uni⯑verſal principle which benevolence de⯑lights to cheriſh, I muſt not paſs in ſilence the deſerts of our Penrith hoſt:—The common conduct of publicans prepoſſeſſes the mind of the traveller, when he enters an inn, with the unfavourable idea, that your hoſt is an unfeeling extortioner, im⯑pertinent, curious, and impoſing;—who⯑ever ſhall viſit Penrith, either on buſineſs or pleaſure, will find the keeper of the White Swan the very reverſe;—a man above his rank in ſentiments, above his fellows in propriety of manners, his [55]houſe commodious and clean, his provi⯑ſions excellent, and his attendance prompt and not impertinent.

Our ſecond excurſion from Penrith was by LOWTHER to the LAKE of HULL's-WATER; —we paſſed the village of Clif⯑ton, memorable for the ſkirmiſh on the 18th day of December, 1745, between the Duke of Cumberland's forces and the rebels.—On the approach to Clifton from Lowther, the way which the Duke's forces advanced, lies Clifton moor, a ſpacious common deſcending with an eaſy ſlope towards the village;—on the weſtern ſide of this moor the road is ſituate, within twenty yards of the incloſures, which are fenced by hedges and ſtone walls, from whence the rebels begun firing on the Duke's horſe, and made ſome ſlaughter; —to the eaſt the land deſcends to ſome ſwamps, with ſmall incloſures, at the foot [56]of which is a narrow dark lane, paſſable for no more than one horſeman at a time. Near this place General Honeywood re⯑ceived thoſe marks of ſavage barbarity which had nearly coſt him his life.—A little detached from the village ſtands a cottage, where the rebel Captain, Hamil⯑ton, with ſome others, had concealed themſelves. This being diſcovered, one of the Duke's Huſſars, with great dexte⯑rity, attacked the houſe, and riding round it, fired ſeveral ſhot in at the window, which did ſome execution, and obliged Hamilton to ſhew himſelf; when there began a ſingle combat, between two e⯑qually expert in horſemanſhip and the uſe of arms; in which Hamilton was taken priſoner, after giving and receiving many wounds.

—A train of melancholy ſentiments flowed in upon the mind, on paſſing the [57]ground rendered famous to poſterity by battles and ſlaughter;—when rebellion adds its horrid die to darken the retro⯑ſpection, the ſoul recoils at the ſad and unnatural ſcene; and tears ſtart from the eye, to weep the ſins of fell ambition, and the pride of man.

We viſited the preſent works of Sir James Lowther, to which he is pleaſed to give the name of The Village; the build⯑ings of which are of ſtone, handſomely ſaſhed, and covered with blue ſlate.— Our approach was at the eaſtern end, where the work there proceeding formed a creſcent, behind which the other build⯑ings are thrown in ſquares.—The deſign on which the proprietor is building this beautiful place is, to entertain a number of linen manufacturers, the erections be⯑ing calculated for that purpoſe, with pro⯑per apartments for the directors and go⯑vernors [58]of ſuch a work.—By the ap⯑pearance of the place, it ſeems as if it would be capable of receiving a thouſand artiſts.—The utility and greatneſs of this project are too manifeſt to require the traveller's animadverſions; enough it is to ſay, that ſuch works, under the auſ⯑piecs of ſuch men, give the obſerver in⯑finite pleaſure. The diſtances between the rich and poor, in this luxurious and proud age, have been too diſtinctly main⯑tained.—The wealth and felicity of this nation depends upon the intimate con⯑nection between property and trade.— Where opulence is diffuſed in works to bleſs the induſtrious poor, in projects to promote manufactory and arts, panegy⯑ric is ſilenced by that inward approbation and eſteem, which leads the mind to re⯑gard ſuch virtue, in the character of the rich man, with reverence.

[59]—We paſs'd along from this agreea⯑ble ſcene to a place called the College, from its having been formerly the reſidence of the preceptors of the Lowther Family: where our admiration was enlarged by the princely works there carried on, at the ſole expence of Sir James. We obtained admiſſion to inſpect the carpet manufac⯑tory, which is there conducted in the manner of the Goblines.—It is not poſſible to convey any competent idea of the beauty of this work by de⯑ſcription;—the ſhag thrown up on the face of the carpeting is about half an inch in thickneſs, which renders it ſo du⯑rable, that a new erected manſion would not outſtand ſuch furniture. The colours are diſpoſed with the utmoſt taſte and judgment, in repreſentation of natural flowers; as delicate, eaſy, and juſt, as the works of the pencil.—We were ſo for⯑tunate [60]as to ſee in the looms ſome carpets of peculiar beauty; the one was wrought on a copper-coloured ground, ſcattered with ſprigs of flowers; the other was on a vio⯑let ground;—the roſes and convolvulus, the jeſmines and carnations, were exqui⯑ſite;—they looked like freſh pulled flowers thrown upon velvet; their diſpoſition was in the happieſt taſte, and the colours were given to form the moſt agreeable changes and variety.—The maſter of this work, in an open and polite manner, conducted us; not omitting one circumſtance which he apprehended could add to our pleaſure in the inſpection.—The ſpinning for this work is done by children from the found⯑ling Hoſpital.—Tears of pleaſure guſhed upon the eye, to behold theſe poor or⯑phans, who would otherwiſe perhaps have been totally loſt to the world and to themſelves, thus, by ſo excellent a chari⯑ty, ſaved from the hands of deſtruction [61]and vice, rendered uſeful members of ſo⯑ciety, and happy in their induſtry and innocence.

—The carpet manufactory is carried on ſolely for Sir James's pleaſure and not for ſale; we were informed that ſome little time ago a piece of this work was preſented to her Majeſty.

Paſſing from the college we deſended the banks of the river Lowther, whoſe woody ſcenes are every where pictureſque and pleaſing:—

—The beauties of the proſpect at [62]Aſkam Bridge engaged our attention— the water deſcending over a rockey chan⯑nel, fell in irregular and foaming ſtreams; —the little plain above was dreſſed in the brighteſt green; the lofty banks on every hand were cloathed with ſtately oaks, ſave only where a bold promontary, which overhung the road where we had paſſed, ſhewed its rocky brow from out the ſhade which crowned its threatning front.

A gentleman who was ſo obliging as accompany us in this day's excurſion, conducted our rout with great judgment; —from Lowther, he cauſed us to aſcend the hills, which bordered upon Hulls'-water; ſo that the Lake was totally con⯑cealed from us in our approach till we were juſt upon it.

—Having attained the ſummit, with [63]no ſmall degree of patience and fatigue, it opened ſuddenly upon our view, pre⯑ſenting to us a ſheet of water of the form of an S, nine miles in extent, and greatly above a mile in width;—as we looked upon it from a great eminence, we could diſcern all its bays, its ſhores and promontaries, and in the extenſive landſcape take in a vaſt variety of objects, thrown together with all that beauty, which wood and water, lawns, riſing ſweeps of corn, villas, vil⯑lages, and cots, ſurmounted by immenſe mountains and rude cliffs can form to the eye;—the country to the right for many miles was variegated in the fineſt man⯑ner by encloſures, woods and villas; amongſt which Grayſtock, Dacre, and Delmain were ſeen, whilſt to the left nothing but ſtupendous mountains and rude projecting rocks preſented themſelves to the ſight vying with each other, for grandeur and eminence.

[64]We deſcended to the village of POOLEY, and from thence, by a winding road on the margin of the Lake, paſſed on for near a mile, to a ſmall inn where we left our horſes.

We were accommodated on the water with one of the barges belonging to the Duke of Portland, which have been ſent there by his Grace for pleaſuring;—a ſtrong ſouth breeze rendered the Lake ſo rough, that the ſurf broke over the bow, whilſt the ſwell gave us motion almoſt equal to that felt at ſea;—my companion; ſuffered no ſmall mortification by this accident, at it incommoded him much in drawing views of this admirable ſcene. —We were obliged to coaſt it up the Lake, to keep as much under the wind as poſſible, the labour being very great to [65]make any way, with four boat-men at the oars.

—As we took the boat, there ſtood to our right, a mountain almoſt perfectly circular, covered with verdure to the crown, ariſing ſwiftly from the edge of the water many hundred feet in height, and ſhadowing us from the ſun;—to the left the Lake ſpread out its agitated boſom, whitened with innumerable brea⯑kers, much above a mile in breadth; whoſe oppoſite ſhore in one part aſcended gradually with cultivated lands from the village of Pooley, ſkirting the hills; over which ſome ſcattered wood was happily diſpoſed in irregular groves and winding lines; whilſt all above, the brown heath reached the ſummits.—This land adjoined to a mountain much ſuperior in height to that upon our right, riſing almoſt per⯑pendicular from the Lake, with naked [66]cliffs: on its rugged ſide, through the grey rocks, was torn a paſſage for a ri⯑vulet, whoſe waters fell precipitate with a mighty noiſe into the deep below;—the ground more diſtant, which was ſeen ſtill upwards, over an expanſe of water not leſs than four miles, conſiſted of lofty rocks and bold promontaries, here and there ſhewing naked and ſtorm-bleached cliffs; and in other places ſcattered over with the ſpring of young oaks, ariſing from the ſtoves of trees which the ax had lately ſlain.—We could not forbear la⯑menting the loſs of ſo great an ornament to this romantic ſcene, as a foreſt of timber trees hanging on theſe declivities muſt have been, from this and every other point of view on the Lake.

As we paſſed along, having doubled two ſmall capes, we fell into a bay, under the ſeat of John Robinſon, Eſq of [67]WATER MELLOCK.—From the very margin of the Lake, in this part, the graſs ground aſcended gradually in an eaſy ſlope, where were diſperſed, in an agreeable irregularity, pretty groves of aſh: there

—Above which the eaſy inclining hills ſhewed us yellow fields of corn, over⯑topped by the white front of a venerable manſion, more noted for its hoſpitality, than for the elegance of its ſtructure.

—The pleaſantneſs of this bay, the ver⯑dure of the new-mown meads, with the ſhade of the grove, induced us to take our noon-tide repaſt there.

[68]—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 with ſix braſs cannon, mounted on ſwivels;—on the diſcharge of 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.

—The inſtant it had ceaſed the ſound of every diſtant water-fall was heard, but for an inſtant only; for the momentary ſtillneſs was interrupted by returning echo on the hills behind us; where the report was repeated like a peal of thunder burſt⯑ing over our heads, continuing for ſeve⯑ral ſeconds, flying from haunt to haunt, [69]till once more the ſound gradually decli⯑ned;—again the voice of water-falls poſ⯑ſeſſed 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 reached the mountains within the line and channel of the breeze, it was heard at once on the right hand and left, at the extremi⯑ties of the Lake.—In this manner was the report of every diſcharge re-echoed ſeven times diſtinctly.

—At intervals we were relieved from this entertainment, which conſiſted of a kind of wondrous tumult and grandeur of confuſion, by the muſic of two French horns, whoſe harmony was repeated from every receſs which echo haunted on the [70]borders of the Lake;—here the breathings of the organ were imitated, there the baſ⯑ſoon with clarinets;—in this place from the harſher ſounding cliffs, the cornet;— in that from the wooded creek, amongſt the caverns and the trilling water falls, you ſeemed to hear the ſoſt-toned lute ac⯑companied with the languiſhing ſtrains of enamoured nymphs; whilſt in the copſe and grove was ſtill retained the muſic of the horns.—All this vaſt theatre, ſeemed to be poſſeſſed by innumerable aerial beings, who breathed coeleſtial har⯑mony.

—As we finiſhed our repaſt, from a general diſcharge of the guns we were rouſed to new aſtoniſhment; for altho' we had heard with great ſurprize the for⯑mer echoes, this exceeded them ſo much that it ſeemed incredible: for on every [71]hand the ſounds were reverberated and returned from ſide to ſide, ſo as to give us the ſemblance of that confuſion and horrid uproar, which the falling of theſe ſtupendous rocks would occaſion, if by ſome internal combuſtion they were rent to pieces, and hurled into the Lake.

During the time of our repaſt the wind was huſhed, and the Lake, which on our firſt entrance was troubled and foaming, now became like a ſhining mirror, reflect⯑ing reverſed mountains and rocks, groves, meads, and vales;—the water was ſo tranſparent that we could perceive the fiſh and pebbles at the depth of ſix or eight fathom;—we now doubled a woody promontary, and paſſing by the foot of Gobery Park, aſcended into the narrow part of the Lake, leaving the graſſy mar⯑gins and the ſcattered copſe, which had bordered the water, as we paſt by Wa⯑ter [72]Mellock; now all around us being one ſcene of mountains, which hemmed us in, ariſing with awful and precipitate fronts;—here the white cliffs raiſed their pointed heads, there the ſhaken and rifted rocks were ſplit and cavated into vaſt ſhelves, chaſms, and dreary cells, which yawned upon the ſhadowed Lake; whilſt other ſteeps leſs rugged were decked with ſhrubs, which grew on every plain and chink, their ſummits being embrowned with ſun-parched moſs and herbage.

—The ſcene was nobly awful as we approached to STARBURY CRAG;—at every winding of our paſſage, new hills and rocks were ſeen to overlook thoſe which had but the minute before been new upon our proſpect; the clouds hung heavily upon the mountains, rolling in gloomy volumes over their heads, in [73]ſome places dragging their ragged ſkirts along the ſides of the ſteeps, giving them a deep and melancholy ſhade; in others admitting the ſun beams, which illumi⯑nated the winding dells with a greyiſh light.

—We ſaw within ſome little diſtance of the ſhore a ſulphurine ſpring.—We were ſorry to find this valuable gift of nature remained unanalized and neglected by the neighbouring gentlemen; it ap⯑peared to be much of the nature of Har⯑rowgate Spaw, and is ſaid to have ſhewn excellent medicinal qualities to thoſe who have uſed it.

—The fiſhermen belonging to Mr Ro⯑binſon were ſo obliging as to make us two draughts; but we were not fortunate enough to take any very large fiſh;— we drew trout, perch, and ſkelley, [74](which laſt is a kind of freſh-water her⯑ring) all of which were of excellent fla⯑vour.—They ſometimes take a trout pe⯑culiar to this water, of thirty pounds weight and upwards, and eels of eight or nine pounds.

—After a voyage of upwards nine miles we returned, paſſing down the cen⯑tre of the Lake. We had again arrived oppoſite to the woody promontary, which joins to the extreme of the cultivated lands of Water Mellock, when the view down the Lake opened upon us.

—The meadows, the groves, the moun⯑tains, and the rocks, which environed the Lake, were diſpoſed in the moſt pictureſque order, bending around the margin of an expanſe of water of five miles over;—the lands of Water Mel⯑lock now layed at a diſtance to the left, [75]ſurmounted by ſome ſmall conic hills, the heights of Gobery Park, that ranged weſtward, and terminated by the graſſy mountain at whoſe foot we paſſed upon ourentrance.—Theſe ſweetly intermingled groves, corn fields and meads, gently inclining to the Lake, where they ſunk on the graſſy margin, or ſtretched into eaſy promontaries, now lay in the hap⯑pieſt arrangement;—to the right were the rocky ſteeps, down which the foam⯑ing cataract was hurried; from whence the upſtretching incloſures, upon gradual declinations, formed the more diſtant hills; above which, from hanging groves that overlooked each other, ſome blue rocks, crowned with brown heath, ap⯑peared;—at the extreme of this ſine creſ⯑cent ſtood mount DUNMORLET, of a moſt beautiful conic form, covered from its ſkirts to the crown with oaks, aſhes, and firs, fortunately mingled; at whoſe [76]foot the ſingle arch of Pooley bridge, the outlet of all this mighty Lake, appeared bending over a little valley, where ſome few cottages were ſcattered; over which, at the extremity of the dale, Penrith bea⯑con formed a pleaſing obeliſque.—The beauties of this ſcene were encreaſed by the reflection given in the water, where the deep green hue was ſeen to mix with the olive and the grey of the adjoining objects; whilſt the back ground ſeemed to decline in fainteſt purple, variegated with the deep crimſon ſtreaks of an even⯑ing ſky.

—We hung upon our oars ſome time, reluctant to quit this proſpect, and enjoy⯑ing the muſic of the horns;—the exqui⯑ſite ſoftneſs and harmony which the echoes produced here, were not to be de⯑ſcribed;—the muſic ſeemed to iſſue from ſome reſounding temple, which ſtood [77]concealed behind the mountains, where the moſt ſolemn and delicate ſymphony was heard, as if reverberated from the brazen dome, or marble colonades; and as the breeze at intervals grew ſofter, one might imagine the voices of a thou⯑ſand choiriſters had filled the lengthened chorus.

—It happened fortunately for us that the ſun ſome ſhort time before ſetting, ſhone out ſerene;—we made a little turn to look back upon the dark and rocky ſcene which we had paſſed, when the vapour which had for ſome time almoſt covered the mountains with a gloomy veil, appeared to roll up upon the breeze like a mighty curtain, and withdrew, opening gradually to the eye the pompous theatre.—No ſooner were theſe cumbrous volumes lifted above the ſummits of the weſtern hills, than the horizontal rays [78]broke in upon the mountains; the graſs on theſe heights which had been parched and turned of a ruſſet hue, received the light in a delicate manner, becoming a rich ſhade to the bright gold teints with which the ſun beams, paſſing through the evening vapour, ſtruck the cliffs, as the ſlantway rays pierced each valley and interſtice of the mountains; here beam⯑ing over a whole hill, there tinging the tops of rocks, and catching the edges of the precipice, with the luſtre of burniſhed gold; whilſt the deep ſhades of every vale, each dell, chaſm, and cave, height⯑ened the colouring above.—In the water we traced all this pictureſque ſcene in⯑verted, the long and deep ſhadows thrown from the mountains over the Lake, made the objects, which were thus illumined, be moſt beautifully reflected on this mir⯑ror of ſable.

[79]—Here the mind was touched with pious and reverential thoughts, which alone delight in ſilence, whilſt contem⯑plation dwells on the mighty author of ſuch wondrous works; to whom it is ac⯑ceptable, that the heart of man, ſeeking him in ſuch ſcenes as theſe, ſhould pay that adoration which no language can expreſs.

—Approaching night rouzed us from our rhapſodies; the clouds above our heads were deeply tinged with crimſon, and the whole Lake as we proceeded on our voyage, ſeemed to glow with a fine carnation;—as the ſun ſtill deſcended the vapours which hung with a grey hue over the hills now aſſumed a flame co⯑lour, and ſeemed to wind up a multitude of glowing ſtreams in the moſt groteſque figures; whilſt all below was ſinking [80]from the eye into a ſolemn confuſion;— the whole range of mountains appearing as if on fire, the images of Ovid imme⯑diately occurred to my memory:

We regained the little inn at the foot of Dunmorlet, where our horſes waited for us, and returned towards Penrith de⯑lighted with our voyage, in our converſa⯑tion enumerating the wonderous and enchanting ſcenes to which we had been preſent; till we reached DELMAIN, the ſeat of J. Hazell, Eſq—the rich woods which are ſpread around this manſion, together with its handſome ſtone-built front, gave us expectation, whilſt we ſaw it in the morning at a diſtance, that it would be ſtill more pleaſing on a nearer view; but we could not forbear turning our eyes away in diſappoint⯑ment, [81]when we perceived the approach and court kept no better than a ſtable⯑yard.

A little ramble took place in the en⯑ſuing morning;—in our way we were ſhewn the tenement in which, by the great tempeſt ſome few years ago, Miſs Bolton and her female friend were over⯑whelmed in the ruins of their houſe;— over whoſe untimely monument even piety lets fall a tear, and reſignation bows to heaven with ſights, whilſt hope in holy whiſpers tells, that innocence and virtue called from hence become an⯑gelic.

—We viewed the ruins of PENRITH CASTLE;—it is ſaid to have aroſe on the foundations of a Roman fortreſs, the traces of which are not now to be diſ⯑covered.—The buildings form a ſquare, [82]and are ſituate on a riſing ground, ſur⯑rounded with a ditch.—The ſcite to⯑wards the town is much more elevated than on any of the other quarters;—this front conſiſts of the remains of an angu⯑lar tower to the Eaſt, which now ſtands ſeparated from the reſt by the falling of the walls; the centre which projects a little from the plane of the front is haſt⯑ening to decay, preſenting to the eye broken chambers, paſſages, and ſtairs; —this part of the building is ſtill con⯑nected with the weſtern angular tower, an open hanging gallery forming the communication;—below this gallery a large opening is made by the falling of the building, forming a rude arch; through which, and the broken walls to the eaſt, the interior parts of the ruin are perceived in a pictureſque manner.—No⯑thing remains within but part of a ſtone⯑arched vault, which by its ſimilitude to [83]places of the like nature which we had formerly ſeen, we conceived to have been the priſon.

From thence we went to view a place by the inhabitants called ARTHUR's ROUND TABLE, near to Yeoman bridge, and within about half a mile from Pen⯑rith.—This is ſaid to be of great anti⯑quity, but there is no tradition when, by whom, or for what purpoſe it was made ^*.

[84]—It is cut in a little plain, near to the river, of an exact circular figure, ſave to the eaſtern and weſtern ſides an approach is left on the common level of the plain; —the trench which is caſt up, and by which it is formed, is near ten paces wide; the ſoil which has been thrown up on the outward ſide forms a kind of theatre;— [85]the approaches are ten paces wide, and the whole circle within the ditch is one hundred and ſixty paces in circumference. —We were induced to believe this was an ancient tilting ground, where in days of chivalry tournaments had been held; the approaches would anſwer for the ca⯑reer, and the circle ſeems ſufficient for the champions to ſhew their dexterity in juſting and horſemanſhip, the whole cir⯑cus [86]being capable of receiving one thou⯑ſand ſpectators, without the ditch.—It doth not appear probable that this hath been an intrenchment, or fortified camp, it being too ſmall for ſuch purpoſes; and more particularly it is overlooked by an adjoining riſing ground, from whence it might be annoyed by miſſile weapons.— Some places ſimilar in form have been eſteemed camps fortified by the Danes.

At about half a mile diſtance we viewed a place called MAYBROUGH;— this is a hill, which ariſes gradually on every ſide about one hundred and forty paces from the level of the lands below, forming the lower ſection of a regular cone.—The aſcent is on every ſide grown with oaks and aſhes, and ſeems to have been covered with wood for ages; though no very ancient trees remain ſtanding, yet the reliques left by the ax evince it. [87]—The ſummit of the hill is fenced round, ſave only an opening to the eaſt of twelve paces wide;—the fence is very ſingular, being compoſed of an immenſe quantity of looſe pebble ſtones, which ſeem to have been gathered from the river by their quality, and the ſimilarity there is between them and the gravel of the bed of the Yeoman.—No kind of mortar appears to have been uſed here, the ſtones layed uncemented, and in a heap, which at the foot is near twenty paces wide, riſing to an edge, in height at this day about eight feet from the level of the interior plain.—Here and there time has ſcattered a few trees and bruſh-wood over the pebbles, but in other places they are looſe and naked, both on the out⯑ſide and inſide of the fence.—The ſpace within is a fine plain of meadow ground, exactly circular, of 100 paces diameter; —inclining a little to the weſtward from [88]the centre a large maſs of unhewn ſtone is ſtanding erect, placed with the ſmaller end in the earth, on which ſome little aſh trees have taken their growth, by ſtriking their roots into the natural fiſ⯑ſures of the ſtone;—this ſtone is in cir⯑cumference near its middle twenty-two feet and ſome inches, and in height eleven feet and upwards; it is a ſpecies of the free ſtone, and has been gathered from the ſurface, and not won in any quarry or bed of ſtone.—The inhabitants in the neighbourhood ſay, that within the me⯑mory of man two other ſtones of ſimilar nature, and placed in a kind of angular figure with the ſtone now remaining, were to be ſeen there, but as they were hurt⯑ful to the ground, had been deſtroyed and removed.

—The traditional account given of this place is in no wiſe to be credited: ‘That [89]it was a Roman theatre, where crimi⯑nals had been expoſed to wild beaſts; and that thoſe ſtones were placed for the refuge and reſpite of the combatant in his unhappy conflict.’

—The name of Maybrough induced us to believe, that this had been a Britiſh fortification, and that the name was a corruption of Maiden Burg, a title given to many fortreſſes which were eſteemed impregnable, and which were boaſted never to have known a conqueror;—but the large ſtone placed within the plain, and thoſe ſaid to have been defaced within the memory of man, confounded this conjecture, and prompted us to an idea, that the whole was a druidical mo⯑nument, and the name of it Mayberie ^*, [90]or Maleberge ^*.—The elevated plain, the ſurrounding woods, and this ſtrange rude pillar, render it probable, that this was a temple of the druids, where, under the ſolemn ſhade of the conſecrated grove, they had exerciſed their religious rites, and taught the multitude; and alſo held thoſe convocations in which they determined the rights of the people, and adminiſtered public juſtice.—Perhaps when they were driven out of Mona, and fled before the Roman ſword, they might [91]fortify their ſacred places, and gather their people into ſuch ſtrong holds, to reſiſt the power which had avowed their extirpation.

We viewed the CHURCH OF PENRITH in the afternoon, a handſome new build⯑ing of red free ſtone, well galleried, and ornamented in the modern ſtile;—the pillars are remarkable, being one ſingle ſtone. The following inſcription, on a ſtone placed in the wall, is ſingular:

[92]The plague raged in London in the thir⯑ty-ſixth year of Queen Elizabeth's reign.

In the church-yard is a very remarka⯑ble monument, apparently of great anti⯑quity;—two pillars are placed in a direc⯑tion, eaſt and weſt, diſtant from each other fifteen feet;—at the ſides of the tomb two ſtones are placed, with an edge upwards, of a kind of ſemicircular form: —Theſe ſide ſtones do not, at preſent, ſhew any marks of the ſculptor, tho' ſome have conjectured they repreſented boars. —The pillars are of one piece, formed like the antient ſpears, and about ten feet in height;—the ſhafts are round for about ſeven feet high, above which they run into a ſquare, and appear to have termi⯑nated in a point; where the ſquare point commences, there are the remains of a narrow belt of ornamental frize work.— [93]The ſtones are ſo much hurt by time, that it is not poſſible to aſcertain, whether the upper parts of theſe pillars have been adorned with figures or born any inſcrip⯑tion.—I muſt beg leave to diſſent from the opinion of thoſe who have preſumed this was the tomb of ſome of the War⯑wicks; and as their reaſon alledge, theſe were the repreſentations of bears and a rag⯑ged ſtaff, the device of that family; I am induced to believe this is rather the mo⯑nument of ſome Britiſh hero of diſtinc⯑tion; the cuſtom of placing pillars at the head and foot of ſepulchres is very an⯑cient, I have ſeen it mentioned in many of our hiſtorians, that in the time of Richard the firſt, the bones of Arthur, the famous King of Britain, were ſaid to have been found at Glaſtonbury, in an old ſepulchre; to denote which ſtood two pillars, one at the head, the other at the [94]feet, on which ſome inſcription had been cut, but could not then be read:— in the notes to a book intitled the hiſtory of the Rebellion 1745, this monument is men⯑tioned, and ſaid to be ſet up in memory of a famous old warrior, Sir Ewen Caeſa⯑rius of great ſtrength, who was renown⯑ed for his exploits in Inglewood foreſt, in the deſtruction of wild boars.

In our next excurſion from Penrith, we paſt by the antient ſeat of the Muſgraves, called EDEN HALL, at the diſtance of three miles; a ſtone ſtructure, built in the taſte of the time of the Charles's.— Every part of the river Eden which we viſited was pictureſque and beautiful; pretty lawns and meadows, and here and there fine hanging groves, were diſperſed on its banks, whilſt the borders of the channel were beautified with rocks, and [95]the ſtream flowed in meandrings or caſ⯑cades ^*.

Near to LITTLE SALKELD, on the ſummit of a large hill, inclining a little towards the north, we had the pleaſure of ſeeing a large and perfect druidical monument, called by the country people MEG AND HER DAUGHTERS.

[96]—A circle of three hundred and fifty paces circumference is formed by maſſy ſtones, moſt of which remain ſtanding upright;—theſe are ſixty-ſeven in num⯑ber, of various qualities, unhewn or touched with any tool, and ſeem by their form to have been gathered from the ſur⯑face of the earth;—ſome are of blue and grey limeſtone, ſome of granite, and ſome flints;—many of them which were ſtand⯑ing meaſured from twelve to fifteen feet in girt, and ten feet in height; others were of an inferior ſize.—At the ſouthern ſide of this circle, at the diſtance of ſeventeen paces from its neareſt member, is placed an upright ſtone naturally of a ſquare form, being a red free-ſtone, with which the country about Penrith abounds.—This ſtone is placed with one of its angles to⯑wards the circle, is near fifteen feet in girt, and eighteen feet high; each angle [97]of its ſquare anſwering to a cardinal point. —In the moſt contiguous part of the circle four large ſtones are placed in a ſquare form, as if they had conſtructed or ſup⯑ported the altar: And towards the eaſt, weſt, and north, two large ſtones are placed, a greater diſtance from each other than any of the reſt, as if they had formed the entrances into this myſtic round.—What creates great aſto⯑niſhment to the ſpectator is, that no ſuch ſtones, or any quarry or bed of ſtones are to be found within a great diſtance of this place; and how ſuch maſſy bodies could be moved, in an age when the me⯑chanical powers were little known, is not to be conceived.

—Whilſt we ſtood admiring this place the following thoughts occured to my memory.

My ideas wandered in the fields of imagination over the druids ſacrifice of the milk-white ſteers, conſecrated by the miſletoe.—I reflected on the trembling enthuſiaſtic multitudes, who here per⯑haps had aſſembled to hear the prieſtly dictates touching government, and moral conduct;—to learn the druids arrogant philoſophy and ſuperſtitions, and cheriſh an implicit faith of the immortality of [99]man's intellectual ſpirit, though in tranſ⯑migration to reptiles and beaſts of prey.— Perhaps here Princes ſubmiſſively have ſtood to hear the haughty druid ex⯑laim—

In the number of ſtones Camden was miſtaken, as they are only ſixty-ſeven in all. He took many of his northern re⯑marks from hearſay only, from whence he was liable to the errors diſcovered in him.—As to the heaps of ſtones within the circle, which he was told covered thoſe ſlain in fight, there is not the leaſt appearance of any ſuch thing.—Since the monuments of Mona, now Angleſie, have been ſo learnedly viſited and de⯑fined, [100]there is not the leaſt reaſon to doubt this at Salkeld is a druidical monu⯑ment, from its ſimilarity to thoſe re⯑maining there.

Near to a place called Ninechurches we viſited two caves; the one hollowed in the rock of a circular form, with ſeats cut in its ſides; the roof being ſupported in the midſt by a rude pillar of maſon work; this is called the Giant's cave;— the other cave is alſo circular, with a ſtone table in the midſt.—There is no tradition to lead one to conjecture by whom theſe caves were made;—their antiquity is greatly to be doubted; they ſeem as if they had been the work of ſome religious, for retirement; but the name of no ſuch perſon remains to us.

—We alſo viſited a place called Force Mill, near to Great Salkeld, where a cave [101]was ſaid to be the object of travellers cu⯑rioſity;—here we found ſome ſeats cut under the ſhelves of a rock, commanding a romantic view upon the river Eden; but no otherwiſe remarkable.—The falls of the river, the hanging rocks, rich meadows, and hills cloathed with wood, preſented us with proſpects which amply repaid the diſappointment our curioſity ſuſtained.

We lamented to ſee ſuch extenſive waſts and uncultivated lands, adjoining to ſo beautiful a place as Penrith, whoſe ſitua⯑tion muſt neceſſarily circumſcribe its trade.

The women of this country are re⯑markably beautiful;—the bold u [...]intelli⯑gent ſtare, the fluttering inconſiſte [...]t pert⯑neſs, and liſping nonſenſe, ſo charac⯑teriſtic of the ſex in ſouthern counties, [102]are here totally neglected, for intelligent looks cloathed in modeſty, and politeneſs united with ſimplicity of manners.

We had the pleaſure of ſeeing ſome bo⯑tanical paintings, executed by Miſs Cal⯑vin, of this place, which in delicacy of colouring, and taſte in the diſpoſition of the foliage and flowers, together with the juſtneſs of the work, may vie with any painting of that kind in Europe.—To the honour of Lady Mary Lowther, this young Lady is under her patronage, by whom, it is not to be doubted, her ex⯑traordinary merit will be made known to the world.

—This place owns another very re⯑markable genius, Mr Fawell; who, tho' blind from his infancy, can perform any piece of muſical compoſition on the harp⯑ſicord, [103]having the piece ſet by wooden pins in a board, after the manner of a cribbage board; which, after peruſing by the feeling of his fingers, from the ſtrong retention of his memory, he performs with great accuracy.

The way from PENRITH to KESWICK, though a good turnpike, is yet very dull and tedious; for, during the courſe of eighteen miles, we met with nothing to amuſe, till we arrived near the place.— The mountains we paſſed are of various figures, and ſome very lofty; and as we ſtill advanced nearer to Keſwick, they ſtraitened the valley in which we rode.

—We now gained a view of the vale of ST JOHN's; a very narrow dell, hem⯑med in by mountains, through which a ſmall brook makes many meandrings, waſhing little incloſures of graſs ground, [104]which ſtretch up the riſings of the hills. —In the wideſt part of the dale you are ſtruck with the appearance of an ancient ruined caſtle, which ſeems to ſtand upon the ſummit of a little mount, the moun⯑tains around forming an amphitheatre.— This maſſive bulwark ſhews a front of various towers, and makes an awful, rude, and gothic appearance, with its lofty turrets, and its ragged battlements;—we traced the galleries, the bending arches, the butraſſes;—the greateſt antiquity ſtands characterized in its architecture; —the inhabitants near it aſſert it is an antediluvian ſtructure.

—The travellers curioſity is rouzed, and he prepares to make a nearer ap⯑proach; 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 [105]and necromancy, will ſtrip it of all its beauties, and by inchantment transform the magic walls upon his approach.—The vale ſeems like the habitation of ſuch beings;—its gloomy receſſes and retire⯑ments look like the haunts of evil ſpirits; —there was no deluſion in the report, we were ſoon convinced of its truth;—for this piece of antiquity, ſo venerable and noble in its aſpect, as we drew near to it changed its figure, and proved no other than a ſhaken maſſive pile of rocks, which ſtand in the midſt of this little vale, diſunited from the adjoining moun⯑tains; 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 afforded us matter of laughter till we deſcended towards the vale of Keſwick.

[106]The town of KESWICK, lying in a deep valley, was not to be ſeen till we were within a very little diſtance.—As we de⯑ſcended the hill a fine proſpect opened upon us;—the hills on the right of the road are very grand, encloſures of mea⯑dow and paſture take up about one-third of the aſcent; the creeks are every where grown with wood, which climbs up ſhade above ſhade; and their crowns are co⯑vered with herbage and heath. Beneath us laid a plain of about three miles dia⯑meter, diverſified with plots of corn, a⯑greeably mingling with the meadows, and here and there little cops of aſhes.— The Lake of BASNET, which has nothing remarkable to engage the traveller's atten⯑tion but a long canal of water, termina⯑ted the plain to the right, the Lake of Keſwick to the left; around which, moun⯑tains piled on mountains made an awful [107]circle, and ſeemed to ſhut them in from all the world.

—KESWICK is but a mean village, without any apparent trade;—the houſes are homely and dirty;—there is a town houſe in the market place, ſaid to be e⯑rected out of the ruins of Lord Darn⯑water's manſion, but of the moſt uncouth architecture.—There are very indifferent accommodations here for travellers.—No⯑thing is more diſagreeable to people who wiſh to ſee every thing that is curious in a place they viſit, than to meet with a drunken ſoporiferous Innkeeper, whoſe ſmall ſhare of natural intelligence is to⯑tally abſorbed, and who has nothing re⯑maining of human, but his diſtorted image, and his impertinence.—Such was our hoſt at Keſwick.

From a ſhort deſcription of the beauties [108]of Keſwick, which was written by the late ingenious Dr Brown, and which we had then in our hands, we were impatient to enter upon the Lake; and thought every delay irkſome, which kept us from the inchanting ſcene ^*.

[109]—We haſted thither, and from COCK⯑SHOOT-HILL took a general ſurvey of the [110]Lake; which though inferior in ſize to Hull's-water, is yet very different in its [111]beauties, and afforded us many delight⯑full ſcenes.—The water, which ſtill bears [112]the name of DERNWATER, tho' embodied in ſo great a Lake, ſaid to be ten miles in [113]circumference, was tranſparent as chryſtal, and ſhining as a mirror; over whoſe ſur⯑face five fine iſlands were diſperſed, the neareſt in view was covered with yellow corn, the reſt cloathed in wood; the hills are lofty, ariſing on every ſide from the margin of the Lake.

—Here the mountains were in ſome parts covered with graſs, in others heath; [114]there the rocks were grown with ſhrubs and bruſh wood, which hung in their apertures and creeks.—Little valleys of cultivated land preſented themſelves in the openings and windings of the mountains, and ſmall incloſures, and groves of oaks ſtretched up the precipitate aſcents of every hill, from the brink of the water; ſave only at the head of the baſon, where the mountains were more rugged and ro⯑mantic.—We hurried to the boat, that we might enjoy the pleaſures of this place in their greateſt perfection.—The general view was magnificent and beautiful, but we wanted to take each pleaſing ſcene apart.

[115]—We ordered the boatmen to coaſt round the neareſt iſland, called VICAR's [116]ISLAND, containing about ſix acres of corn land; on the eaſtern ſide of which a [117]few ſycamores formed a little grove, co⯑vering a hovel, which varied the hue [118]with a rich green, and gave to the whole a pictureſque appearance.—Here we found a ſweet ſhade, whilſt we hung upon our oars to liſten to the ſound of the water⯑falls, which ſtruck the ear from every ſide with an agreeable ſolemnity.

—Now we had the valley to the right opening upon our view, and extending a rich plain towards the north-weſt, three or four miles in breadth;—the ſtrips of corn, and little groves, ſcattered here and there, gave the moſt pleaſing variety, when contraſted with the verdure of the [119]mown meads, ſtruck by the rays of the morning ſun, and happily oppoſed to the adjoining mountains.—In this vale the church, with ſome ſeat houſes, ſhewed their white fronts, over which the moun⯑tains ariſing to the right were ſtupendous and gloomy, as they ſtood covered with clouds.—There SKIDDOW raiſed his head, and, with a peaked brow, overlooked Sad⯑dleback and Cawſey-pike, together with a chain of mountains ſtretching away to⯑wards the north-weſt; whilſt, on the other hand, the hills and rocks which ſtand up⯑on the Baſnet-water, form the other wing of an lofty avenue of mountains, which extend into the diſtant plains.

—We were told by a perſon we met with at Keſwick, that Skiddow, from the plane of the Lake's ſurface, is three thouſand four hundred and fifty feet in [120]perpendicular height; but as we had no means of proving the truth of this calcu⯑lation, muſt leave it to others to aſeer⯑tain ^*.

—We coaſted the right hand ſide of the Lake, where the hills gradually re⯑tiring from its margin, riſe to their ſum⯑mits covered with herbage. Here we had a view of the little valley of NEW⯑LAND, which winds about the feet of the mountains, and with the fineſt ver⯑dure [121]from the ſmall incloſures of graſs ground, refreſhes the eye, which had la⯑boured with upſtretched looks over the vaſt heights that on every ſide ſhut it in; —there cattle and ſheep were ſeen paſtu⯑ring, ſome little cottages were diſperſed amongſt the hedge-row aſhes, whilſt the ſhadows of the hills ſuffered the ſun-ſhine to fall only in ſtrips over the vale.

—We landed at ST HERBERT's ISLAND ^*, which contains about five acres of land, now covered with young trees, famous for being the reſidence of St Herbert, a Prieſt and Confeſſor; who, to avoid the intercourſe of man, and that nothing might withdraw his attention [122]from unceaſing mortification and prayer, choſe this iſland for his abode.—The ſcene around him was adapted to his gloomy ideas of religion;—he was ſur⯑rounded by the Lake, which afforded him fiſh for his diet;—on every hand the voice of waterfalls excited the ſolemneſt ſtrains of meditation;—rocks and moun⯑tains were his daily proſpect, where bar⯑renneſs and ſolitude ſeemed to take up their eternal abode;—from the ſituation of this place, nature had given three parts of the year to impetuous hurricanes and ſtorms, the fourth alone provided for the reſt.—Here this recluſe erected an hermitage, the remains of which ap⯑pear to this day, being a building of ſtone, formed into two apartments; the outward one about twenty feet long and fifteen broad, the other of narrower di⯑menſions.—He was a cotemporary with ST CUTHBERT, and as the legends of [123]that time ſay, by the prayers of that ſaint obtained a joint or equotemporary death with him, in the year of our Lord ſix hundred and eighty-eight.

—The paſſion for ſolitude and a recluſe life, which reigned in the days of this ſaint, and was cheriſhed by the monaſtic ſchool, although at firſt ſight may appear to us uncouth and enthuſiaſtic, yet when we examine into thoſe times our aſtoniſh⯑ment will ceaſe; whilſt we conſider the eſtate of thoſe men, who under all the prejudices of education, were living in an age of ignorance, vaſſalage, and ra⯑pine; and we ſhall rather applaud than condemn a devotee, who diſguſted with the world and the ſins of men, conſigns his life to the ſervice of the deity in re⯑tirement.—We may ſuppoſe we hear the ſaint exclaiming with the poet:— [124]

I fell into a reverie, and begun to mut⯑ter thus to myſelf:

‘It ſeems unnatural for man to deny himſelf of the aid and conſolation which [125]are derived from ſociety, and to con⯑temn the ſweets of friendſhip.—The poet ſays,’ ‘"Poor is the friendleſs maſter of a world^*."’

‘When we talk of friendſhip in gene⯑ral, the friendſhip of the world, we are amuſing ourſelves with a ſuperficial view, where objects are ſo grooped, and colours fall in ſuch a happy aſſem⯑blage, that all is beautiful and delight⯑ing;—but when greater curioſity, or neceſſity demands a ſtrict ſurvey of the ſeveral images which formed this plea⯑ſing proſpect, you find, on their ſepa⯑ration, that they loſe that excellence which their union or their diſtance maintained.—There is little of true friendſhip on this ſtage to enhance the value of life;—the corruptions of the [126]age have contaminated it, and ſcarce any thing more is left than the name; —when it is even found with conſan⯑guinity, it is a rare eſſence, at which men ſtand agape.—I have known exam⯑ples where genius and merit have dawned upon a youth, ſurrounded with opulent friends, who have ſtood gazing on him like ſtatues of ſtone, without ſtretching forth a hand to ſave him from poverty; whilſt the fine gifts that providence had endowed him with, languiſhed in fetters; which, by their patronage, might have been brought forth and ſaved, even by the crumbs which fell from the rich man's table.—I doubted not the eye of hea⯑ven regarded their inſenſibility with kindling wrath, and to reward the ſa⯑crilege, deprived them of every enjoy⯑ment with which the finer feelings of the ſoul bleſs mankind; and left them [127]nothing but the animal oeconomy, and the diſgraced image of humanity.’

—I had ſhewn ſome diſtortions in my agitation through this whiſpered ſolilo⯑quy; but uttering theſe laſt words with a degree of vehemence, ariſing on the pro⯑greſs of my ideas, my companion catched me by the arm, and rouſed me, ſaying, ‘The boatmen already think they have got a paſſenger that is frantic, and expreſs by their looks their wiſhes to be rid of us ^*.’

[128]—But to return to our hermit, there is no hiſtory of his life and actions to be met [129]with, or any tradition of his works of piety, or miracles, preſerved by the in⯑habitants of the country.

—We now purſued our voyage by a noble woody ſcene, where BRANDELOW PARKE, ariſing from the edge of the Lake, with ſtately young oaks, extends its groves over two round hoes or emi⯑nences: and behind them, after covering a little intervening valley, riſes on the ſide of a mountain to a conſiderable height, and forms a woody amphitheatre, fringed with ſome ſmall ſtrips of corn, which grow under its ſkirts; whilſt all above [130]are ſtupendous hills and rocks.—The ſtrait boles of the trees, together with the verdure of the ground under their ſhadow, which was perceived a great depth in the grove, by reaſon of the diſtance at which the trees ſtood from each other, formed an uncommon and ſolemn ſcene, which being again repreſented by the re⯑flection of the water, ſeemed like inchanted haunts, where driads met with naids, in the happy regions of the genius of the Lake.

—We arrived at the borders of MA⯑NISTY MEADOW, a flat of a few acres at the foot of the mountains, where we an⯑chord our boat to enjoy the pleaſures of the ſituation:—to the left, the neareſt ob⯑ject was a wooded iſland, edged with rocks, behind which Brandelow Park, and oaken groves, dreſt in the deepeſt green, [131]covered the hills which aroſe immediately from the margin of the Lake, and from thence ſtretched up the foot of CATBELL's mountain, which laid ſo near to us, that it required the eye which viewed its ſum⯑mit to be turned upwards directly to heaven;—on our right, at the diſtance of about one hundred yards, laid another ſmall iſland, on whoſe rocky margin bruſh wood and willows hung fantaſti⯑cally; above whoſe thickets the diſtant ſhores were ſeen, where the mighty cliffs of FALCON and WALLOW CRAGS pro⯑jecting, ſhewed their groteſque and tre⯑mendous brows, in a lofty line of rocks; beneath the feet of which a ſtrip of culti⯑vated lands and woods ſhot forth a ver⯑dant promontory, which ſunk gradually in⯑to the Lake;—in the centre of this view, after ſtretching the eye for the diſtance of three miles over a baſon of the cleareſt and [132]ſmootheſt water, ſpreading its boſom to the noontide ſun, is a large mount, called CASTLE-HEAD ROCKS, riſing in a cone, and covered with oak wood; behind which a lofty mountain raiſed its brown brow, dreſt in heath and ſun-burnt her⯑bage, exceeded only by SKIDDOW, co⯑vered with blue vapour, and capped with clouds, which terminated the proſpect.

—HULL's-WATER gives you a few, but noble and extenſive ſcenes, which yield aſtoniſhment; whilſt KESWICK a⯑bounds with variety, with wilder and more romantic proſpects.

—After paſſing BANK PARK, a rocky and barren promontory, on which a few ſcattered trees looked deplorably aged and torn, we entered a fine bay, where the mountains riſe immediately out of the Lake; here ſtanding perpendicular, [133]there falling back in ruinous and rude confuſion, as being piled heap on heap from the convulſions of chaos in the be⯑ginning; and in other parts ſhelving and hanging over the Lake, as if they threat⯑ened an immediate fall;—the whole forming a ſtupendous circus.

—To deſcribe this view is difficult, as no expreſſion can convey an idea of the ſubject, where the wild variety conſiſts only of various features of the ſame ob⯑jects; rocks and mountains forming and conſtituting the parts of this maſſive theatre.—In the front of this romantic ſcene a ſmall mount preſents itſelf, co⯑vered with herbage; ſmall from the mighty ſtature and gigantic members of the other parts of the proſpect.—Over⯑looking this mount ſtands a round rock, puſhing his mountainous brow into the clouds. On the ſummit of the mount, [134]ſweetly contraſted by the grey rocks be⯑hind, there grows, with peculiar pic⯑tureſque beauties, a ſingle ancient oak. —The Lake beneath was a perfect mir⯑ror—

—On each hand the cliffs and moun⯑tains are ſtrewed over with buſhes and ſhrubs, down whoſe ſides ſmall ſtreams of water trill, like ſo many threads of ſilver, giving a delicate mixture to the greyneſs of the rocks over which they paſſed, and which in many places ariſe perpendicular, and are rent into a thou⯑ſand rude columns, as if they had been torn by thunderbolts; in other places they are of a tamer aſpect, and compacted [135]in one ſolid maſs, ſtand with firmneſs as the pillars of the antediluvian world. —Where the hills were ſeparated, little vales filled with wood, or narrow wind⯑ing dells of graſs ground, twiſt around their feet, and give a happy variegation to the view.—In ſome places clefts in the rocks afforded a proſpect into a valley behind; in others, the overhanging cliffs formed rude arches and apertures, through which diſtant mountains were diſcovered.—Behind all were mountains piled on mountains, where the clouds rolled in heavy volumes, giving a gloomi⯑neſs to thoſe regions of confuſion and barrenneſs, which rendered the luſtre of the ſhining Lake, and the ſtreams of light which fell upon the rocks, waterfalls, and ſhrubs, brighter and more pleaſing. —Here—

In the cliffs in this part of the Lake eagles build their neſts, far removed above the reach of gunſhot, and undiſ⯑turbed by men; for no adventurous foot ever dared to aſſail their lofty habitation. In the ſight of the cottager hither they bring the ſpoils of the fold, or the field, to feed their young, ſuperior to the wrath of the injured.

—On theſe ſhores a ſalt ſpring of very ſalubrious quality is found, but like the [137]ſulpher ſpring of Hull's-water, is ne⯑glected.

—We next viſited a very extraordinary phenomenon, an iſland about forty yards in length and thirty in breadth, grown over with ruſhes, reeds, graſs, and ſome willows.—We would have landed upon it, but as the water was ſaid to be forty fathom deep in that place, and the at⯑tempt rather hazardous, we deſiſted, and had not the means of inquiring particu⯑larly into its nature.—This iſland aroſe about four perpendicular feet above the ſurface of the water on which it floated; —from its magnitude we were not able with one boat to try whether it would move, from the perpendicular line of its then ſtation, or whether it was bound to and connected with the bottom of the Lake by the roots of any aquatic plants which appeared upon its ſurface. [138]—The boatmen told us that it had not floated for two years before; and that it is ſeen at many ſeaſons, by reaſon of the clearneſs of the water, a great way from the ſurface in its action of riſing or ſub⯑ſiding, as it frequently deſcends to and reſts upon the bottom of the Lake; but it never ſhifts its ſtation.—This change of floating or ſinking cannot be effected by any greater or leſs quantity of water in the Lake, at any one ſeaſon; for on enquiry we found in the rainy ſeaſons the Lake is very little encreaſed in height, its outlets receiving the additional water as faſt as it flows in.

—We now puſhed up the river which feeds the Lake, and anchored near a little but pleaſant habitation, called LOCHDOOR, or LODORE; a place per⯑fectly adapted for the abode of a recluſe, [139]and much preferable to St Herbert's I⯑ſland, lying open to the ſouthern ſun, ſheltered from the north by mighty mountains, which almoſt overhang it; and fronting to the wideſt part of the baſon, it commands a view of the ſeveral iſlands, Maniſty meadows, and Brande⯑low parks, with their oaken groves hang⯑ing from the aſcent of the mountains ſhade above ſhade;—Catbell's, and the adjoining crags, ſurmounting all.

—We were landed on a plain of mea⯑dow ground which deſcended to the edge of the water, over which we paſſed to an adjoining wood at the foot of the rocks, behind the Lodore houſe.—After winding through ſeveral paſſes in theſe groves and thickets, we gained a ſitu⯑ation where we were delighted with the noble objects which preſented themſelves to our view.

[140]—Around us was ſpread a grove, formed of tall young oaks, aſh, and birch trees, which gave an agreeable coolneſs and ſhade;—above the trees, with uplifted looks, to the right we view⯑ed a mountain of rock, called Shepherds Crag, forming a rude circular maſs, ſhelving from the foot towards its crown in a ſpiral form; on every plane of which and every ſtep that hung upon its ſides, herbage and ſhrubs grew fantaſticly whilſt the very ſummit wore a verdant cap of graſs.—To the left there aroſe a perpen⯑dicular grey cliff, ſaid to be a thouſand feet in height from the Lake, rent into innumerable fiſſures, and ſtanding like maſſive columns in rude arrangment, to ſupport the ſeeming ruins of a ſhattered tower, grown white with ſtorms, and overlooking Shepherds Crag ſome hun⯑dred feet.—In the opening between theſe [141]ſtupendous rocks, the river pours its whole ſtream, forming a grand caſcade near two hundred perpendicular feet high;—as the channel is rugged, the water makes a ſheet of foam, and roars amongſt the caverns and the cliffs, ſo that you are deprived of hearing any thing beſide its tumult;—reaching the wood, where the deſcent is leſs precipitate, it winds amongſt the trees, ſome times ſhewing itfelf, and at others totally con⯑cealed, whilſt it ſerpentines towards the Lake.—The ſpray which is daſhed around the rocks, and carried upon the breeze, where ever it meets the rays of the ſun, through the openings of the cliffs, takes the colours of the rainbow.

—One would conceive Thompſon had this cataract in his eye, when he wrote his ſeaſons: [142]

On turning from this grand ſpectacle, the greateſt beauties of this Lake are thrown into one proſpect:—The ground whereon we ſtood was rugged and rocky, ſhadowed with trees;—looking over a rich boſom of wood, below us lay the Lodore meadows, where groops of cattle [143]were diſperſed, and by the ſhore ſome carpenters were repairing their boats, a circumſtance which enlivened the ſcene; —the ſhining Lake laid in one ſmooth plane, reflecting the azure ſky chequered with clouds: over which the vicar's i⯑ſland, yellow with corn, and the woody iſlands, were fortunately arranged;—the mountains, whoſe feet were trimmed with wood, lay in long perſpective to the left; —Caſtlehead, with its embowered cone and Lord's Iſland ariſing from the oppoſite ſhore, intervened between us and the vale of Keſwick, which laid on the back ground, coloured with all the beauteous tinctures of ſummer; over which the awful Skiddow, with his inferior race of mountains, frowned in azure majeſty, and cloſed the ſcene.

—Here were all thoſe beauties of co⯑louring which the late Dr Brown de⯑ſcribed: [144] ‘The natural variety and co⯑louring which the ſeveral objects pro⯑duce is no leſs wonderful than pleaſing; the ruling teints of the valley being thoſe of azure, green, and gold, yet ever various, ariſing from an intermix⯑ture of the Lake, the woods, the graſs, and corn fields; theſe are finely con⯑traſted by the grey rocks and cliffs, and the whole heightened by the yellow ſtreams of light, the purple hues, and miſty azure of the mountains.’

—In this proſpect one finds all the or⯑der and beauty of colouring mentioned by Maſon:

[145]Claude in his happieſt hour never ſtruck out a finer landſkip; it has every requiſite which the pencil can demand, and is perhaps the only view in England which can vie with the ſublime ſcenes from which that painter formed his taſte.

We now returned to our boat, an ſailing within ſome little diſtance of the ſhore, had a view of the waterfall, where the beauties of the Lake to the ſouth eaſt lay in a pleaſing perſpective;—we looked over a ſmall part of the baſon, from whence to the left a ſtupendous moun⯑tain of rock aroſe, on whoſe ſkirts, and in the rents and clefts of whoſe ſides, trees and ſhrubs climbed almoſt to the very ſummit;—before us laid the wood from which we had lately paſſed, under whoſe ſhade Lodore houſe and incloſures [146]were ſeen inclining towards the Lake; above which the lofty precipice, the wa⯑terfall, and Shepherds Crag, were ſeen in all their variety of beauties; whilſt all beyond the mountains formed a creſcent, enclaſping a ſheet of water of two miles circuit.—Mountain behind mountain, and rock behind rock, fell here in fine perſpective, and brought to our minds thoſe aſtoniſhing ſcenes which charac⯑terize the pencil of Salvator.

—We paſſed from hence, in our return to Keſwick, by the coaſt, where we were ſhewn a cliff that projected over the Lake, called EVE's CRAG. from its bear⯑ing ſome ſimilitude to a female Coloſſian ſtatue.—We next paſſed WALLOW CRAG, in which a large opening is formed by the parting of the rocks, bearing the name of Lady's Rake, from the eſcape [147]which Lady Dernwater made there, by climbing theſe horrid and ſtupendous heights with ſuch jewels and valuables as ſhe could ſecure, when her unfortunate Lord was apprehended for a traitor.

We now reached Lord's Iſland, con⯑taining ſome few acres covered with wood, where are the remains of a man⯑ſion of the Dernwater family. Formerly this was only a peninſula, but when the place was made the reſidence of the Rad⯑cliffs and Dernwaters it was ſevered from the main land by a ditch, over which was thrown a draw-bridge.—This muſt have been a beautiful retirement.—Tra⯑vellers cannot behold the ruins of this place without yielding a ſigh for the ſins of the world, and bewailing the dire effects which attend on ambition and the crimes of princes.

[148]—We viſited a DRUIDICAL MONU⯑MENT within about two miles of Keſ⯑wick, ſituate to the ſouth of the road which we had paſſed from Penrith.

—This monument is placed on a plain, formed on the ſummit of a hill, around which the adjoining mountains make a ſolemn circle;—it is compoſed of ſtones of various forms, natural and unhewn; they ſeemed to have been collected from the ſurface, but from what lands it is impoſſible to conjecture, moſt of them being a ſpecies of granite.—Theſe ſtones are fifty in number, and are ſet in a form not exactly circular, the diameter being thirty paces from eaſt to weſt, and thirty-two from north to ſouth; at the eaſtern end a ſmall incloſure is formed within the circle by ten ſtones, making an oblong [149]ſquare in conjunction with the ſtones of that ſide of the circle, ſeven paces in length, and three in width within. In this place we conjectured the altar had been erected.—At the oppoſite ſide a ſingle ſquare ſtone is laid at the diſtance of three paces from the circle;—poſſibly this may have been broken off, and is only the foot of ſuch a column as Long Meg in the Salkeld monument, which may have been uſed to bind the victims to.—The ſtones forming the outward line are ſome of them ſtanding erect, others fallen, and the ſame obſervation is to be made as to the appearance of entrances as at Salkeld. —The ſtones here are of various ſizes, ſome of the largeſt of thoſe which are ſtanding being near eight feet in height, and fifteen feet in circumference.

—A clergyman whoſe property the [150]paſture ground is, in which this monu⯑ment ſtands, and with whom we gained an acquaintance during our ſtay at Keſwick, told us he was determined to deſtroy the place, as it prejudiced his ground; ſo that perhaps by theſe ſacrilegious hands, the curious will ſhortly be deprived of this valuable piece of antiquity.

A late deſcovery has been made of large quantities of black lead, (a mineral peculiar to this country, and no where elſe to be found in Europe) amongſt the gravel and earth on the ſhore of Vicar's iſland.—Whether it has lodged there by the floods, or how otherwiſe been collect⯑ed, is not known; but ſo valuable the diſcovery was thought, that it occaſioned an enquiry by what means the whole Lake might be drained: conceiving that from this ſpecimen, immenſe wealth [151]would be obtained by ſuch an undertak⯑ing.

—The fiſh of this Lake are trouts, pike, eels, and perch.

The romantic ſcenes upon the Lake in⯑duced us to take a boat at night, under the favour of the moon, which was near the full;—we began our voyage ſoon af⯑ter the moon was riſen, and ſhe had illu⯑mined the top of Skiddow, but from the intercepting mountains had not within the aſcent of an hour reached the Lake; —we were ſurrounded with a ſolemn gloom;—the ſtilneſs of the evening render⯑ed the voice of the waterfalls tremendous, as they, in all their variety of ſounds, were re-echoed from every cavern;—the ſummits of the rocks began to receive the riſing rays, and ſeemed to be crowned [152]with turrets of ſilver, from which the ſtars departed for their nightly round.— As the light advanced, objects aroſe to view, as if ſurging on the firſt morning from chaos;—the water was a plain of ſable, ſprinkled over with gems, reflected from the ſtarry firmament;—the groves which hung upon the feet of the moun⯑tains were hid in darkneſs, and all was one grave and majeſtic circle of ſhadow—

—When the long protracted ſhadows of the mountains caſt on the boſom of the Lake, ſhewed the vaſtneſs of thoſe maſſes from whence they proceeded; and ſtill as the moon aroſe higher in the horizon, [153]the diſtant objects began to be illumined, and the whole preſented us with a noble moonlight piece, delicately touched by the hand of nature; and far ſurpaſſing thoſe humble ſcenes which we had often viewed in the works of the Flemiſh painters.

—Miſts began to ariſe on the Lake, and by reaſon of the air which bore them aloft, being confined and eddying with⯑in this deep circle, they were whirled round, and carried upwards like a column, which ſo ſoon as it approached the rays of the moon, had a moſt wonderful ap⯑pearance, and reſembled a pillar of light.

—I recollect that Maupertuis deſcrib⯑ing the Lake and mountain of Niemi in Lapland, ſpeaks of a Phenomenon of the like nature, which the people called Hal⯑tios, and which they eſteemed to be the [154]guardian ſpirits of the place.—Be theſe as they might, we may venture to aſſert, no druid, no St Herbert, no genius, had a more glorious aſcenſion.

—The moon's mild beams now gliſtned on the waters, and touched the groves, the cliffs, and iſlands, with a meekneſs of colouring, which added to the ſolemnity of the night, and theſe noble and ro⯑mantic objects, ſtruck us with reverence and inſpired the mind with pious ſenti⯑ments and ejaculations.—It was obſerva⯑ble, that by day we were inceſſantly com⯑municating our raptures and ſurpriſe on each new wonder that opened to our view,—we now enjoyed them in ſilence.

—Every bay, and each promontary, aſſumed an appearance very different from what it had by day light;—the little [155]dells which wind around the feet of the mountains, as they were ſhadowed by in⯑terpoſing objects, or ſilvered by the moon, afforded moſt enchanting ſcenes; where we might have wandered with delight through the whole night.

—Where the Lake narrows, and runs up in a creek towards BORODALE, the rocks looked horrible, almoſt ſhutting us in from the face of heaven, which could be beheld only by looking immediately upright; the cliffs were ſtruck with ſcanty gleams of light, which gained their paſ⯑ſage through the interſtices of the hills, or chaſms in the rocks, and ſerved only to diſcover their tremendous overhanging fronts; their mighty caverns, where the water ſtruck by our oars made a hollow ſound, their deformed and frowning brows, the hanging ſhrubs with which they were bearded, their ſparkling water⯑falls [156]that trilled from ſhelf to ſhelf, the whole half ſeen and half concealed, leav⯑ing imagination at large to magnify the images of their grandeur and horrible magnificence.

The purſuit which engaged us the next morning was to gain the ſummit of SKIDDOW, which by the winding paſs we were obliged to make afforded a labo⯑rious aſcent of five miles.—The proſpect which we gained from this eminence very well rewarded our fatigue;—to the ſouth eaſt we had a view over the tops of moun⯑tains, one ſucceeding to or overlooking the other; a ſcene of chaos and mighty confuſion: this was the proſpect which Dr Brown deſcribed by the image of "a tempeſtuous ſea of mountains;"—be⯑low us laid the Lake with all the beau⯑ties of its margin, together with the vale of Keſwick, and the waters of Baſnet, [157]as if delineated on a chart.—To the ſouth, the hills towards Cockermouth, though leſs rugged and romantic than thoſe towards the ſouth eaſt, were yet no leſs ſtupendous.—To the north weſt we had the proſpect of a wide and barren heath, extending its plains to Carliſle, and terminated by the mountains of Scotland.—To the north eaſt we regained the proſpect of that ſpacious circus in which Penrith ſtands, the Queen of the vale, overtopped by Croſs Fell, which forms the moſt diſtant back ground.

—The air was remarkably ſharp and thin, compared with that from which we paſſed in the valley; and reſpiration ſeemed to be performed with a kind of aſthmatic oppreſſion.

—Whilſt we remained upon the moun⯑tain, [158]over the hills which lay between Keſwick and Cockermouth denſe and dark vapours began to ariſe; and in a little time, as they advanced upon a ſouth weſt wind, concealed from us thoſe heights which we had viewed half an hour before clear and diſtinct.—Our guide was very earneſt with us to quit the mountain, as he prognoſticated a ſtorm was collecting, and we ſhould be in danger of being wet, or in hazard of loſing our way in the heavy vapour, which he aſſured us would ſoon cover Skiddow;—the circumſtance was too ſin⯑gular to be left by people curious in their obſervations on natural events; we de⯑ſired our guide would take care of him⯑ſelf, and leave us to our pleaſure, but the good attendant had a due ſenſe of our impropriety in wiſhing to be left there, and determined to abide by us. [159]—The clouds advanced towards us with accelerated ſpeed;—a hollow blaſt ſound⯑ed amongſt the hills and dells which lay below us, and ſeemed to fly from the approaching darkneſs;—the vapour rol⯑led down the oppoſite valley of Newland, and appeared to tumble in mighty ſheets and volumes from the brow of each mountain, into the vale of Keſwick, and over the Lakes.

—Whilſt we ſtood to admire this phe⯑nomenon the mighty volumes of clouds which we beheld below us gradually aſ⯑cended, and we ſoon found the ſummit of Skiddow totally ſurrounded, whilſt we on every ſide looked down upon an angry and impetuous ſea, heaving its billows, as if boiling from the bottom; we were rejoicing in this grand ſpectacle of nature, and thinking ourſelves fortu⯑nate in having beheld ſo extraordinary [160]an event, when, to our aſtoniſhment and confuſion, a violent burſt of thunder en⯑gendered in the vapour below us ſtunned our ſenſe, being repeated from every rock, and down every dell, in the moſt horrid uproar; at the ſame time, from the agitation of the air, the mountain ſeemed to tremble;—at the time of the exploſion, the clouds were inſtantaneouſly illuminated, and from innumerable chaſms ſent forth ſtreams of lightning.—Our guide laid upon the earth terrified and amazed, in his ejaculations accuſing us of preſumption and impiety;—danger made us ſolemn indeed, we had no where to fly for ſafety, no place to cover our heads; to deſcend was to ruſh into the very inflammable vapour from whence our perils proceeded, to ſtay was equally ha⯑zardous; for now the clouds which had received ſuch a concuſſion by the thun⯑der aſcended higher and higher, enve⯑loping [161]the whole mountain, and letting fall a heavy ſhower of rain;—we thought ourſelves happy even under this circum⯑ſtance, to perceive the ſtorm turning northweſtward, and to hear the next thunderclap burſt in the plain beyond Baſnet water.—A like event has frequent⯑ly happened to travellers in the heights of the Alps, from whence the thunder ſtorms are ſeen paſſing over the countries beneath them.

—The echoes from the mountains which bordered Keſwick Lake, from Newland, from Borodale, from Lodore, were noble, and gave a repetition of the thunder-claps diſtinctly, though diſtant, after an intermiſſion of ſeveral ſeconds tremendous ſilence.

—The rain, which ſtill encreaſed, for⯑med innumerable ſtreams and caſcades, [162]which ruſhed from the crown of Skiddow, Saddle-back, and Cawſey-pike, with a mighty noiſe; but we were deprived of the beauty of theſe waterfalls by the in⯑tercepting vapour, which was not to be penetrated by the eye more than a few yards before us.

—We deſcended the hill wet and fa⯑tigued, and were happy when we re⯑gained our inn at Keſwick; which we now eſteemed a paradiſe, although we had deſpiſed it before for its dirtineſs and inconvenience.

We took leave of our ſlovenly and beſotted hoſt, and purſued our rout from Keſwick to AMBLESIDE, a ſtage of eigh⯑teen miles.

—For romantic, mountainous, and wild ſcenes, this ſtage affords the fineſt [163]ride in the north of England; the whole road lying in a narrow and winding dell, confined by a ſtupendous range of moun⯑tains on either hand.—In ſome places the vale is not wider than merely to admit the road, in other places it opens in little valleys, and again is ſhut in various forms.—We paſſed near the rocks of ST JOHN's, which on nearer view loſt moſt of their groteſque appearance; and as we winded by the feet of theſe lofty hills, creeks filled with wood afforded us many pretty, though narrow landſkips; through which little rills, ariſing on the ſides of the mountains, poured down their haſty and gurgling waters.—The rain which had fallen the day before improved the beauties of the place;—the caſcades were innumerable, and their fi⯑gures various;—at one point of view we took in nine caſcades, falling from emi⯑nences ſeven or eight hundred feet per⯑pendicular [164]height;—where ſome of them fell from the very brows of the hills, they appeared as ſtrings of ſilver, but deſcend⯑ing further ſpread into ſheets of foam, and, before they reached the middle of the hills, tumbled headlong from preci⯑pice to precipice, with a confuſed noiſe. —Every turn of the road, and every val⯑ley, gave us a new ſcene;—the proſpects were ever changing and diverſified.

At length we reached a narrow Lake, called LAYS-WATER, where the vale widened;—ſcattered trees and ſome little incloſures adorned its margin, and here and there a cottage.—We rode by the ſide of this Lake for the diſtance of two miles, ſo far it ſtretched along the vale, on every hand enjoying little rural ſcenes, which renewing to us a ſucceſſion of paſ⯑toral images which we had collected from [165]the poets in our early years, when the young mind was charmed with romance, and the moſt fantaſtic ideas of rural in⯑nocence, retirement, and love.

—Neither did theſe images paſs in the imagination only, for in this ſequeſtered vale we met with a female native full of youth, innocence, and beauty;—ſimpli⯑city adorned her looks with modeſty, and hid her down-caſt eye; virgin apprehen⯑ſion covered her with bluſhes, when ſhe found herſelf ſtayed by two ſtrangers; and as ſhe turned her eyes for an inſtant upon us, they ſmote us with all the energy of unaffected innocence, touched with doubtfulneſs;—her lips, which in the ſweeteſt terms expreſſed her apprehen⯑ſion, ſhewed us teeth of ivory; and on her full forehead ringlets of auburn flowed careleſsly: a delicacy of proportion was [166]ſeen over her whole figure, which was eaſy and elegant as nature's ſelf.

—My companion, in a rapture, ſnatch⯑ed out his pencil, and began to imitate; but the unaffected impatiency, and ſweet confuſion of the maid, overcame our wiſhes to detain her, and we let her paſs reluctantly.

After this little adventure we jogged on, ſilent, and wraped up each in his own cogitations, till we began to deſcend the hill towards the valley of GRASMERE; —we were rouſed by the unexpected beauties of the ſcene, and, as if moved by one thought, we ſtopped, gazed at each and ſmiled, before we could condeſcend to ſnatch ourſelves from the ideal pleaſures we had been enjoying.—We were each conſcious of our ſituation, and at length [167]laughed aloud; no otherwiſe communi⯑cating our ſentiments but by our looks, which ſufficiently explained our ſimpathe⯑tic and ſilent delight.

We were charmed with the view of GRASMERE, a retirement ſurrounded by hills on every hand; the vale is about four miles in circumference, of meadow and paſture ground;—near the middle of this valley is a fine Lake, beautified with an iſland.—From a mount a little diſtance from the church we viewed the whole cir⯑cle, delighted with the ſituation;—the fields were full of freſhneſs and verdure, the ſcene was ornamented with a few humble cottages diſperſed on the borders of the Lake, amongſt which the ſacred fane ſtood ſolemnly ſuperior;—the hills were here and there graced with a few [168]trees, and animated by white flocks of ſheep.—It ſeemed to be the vale of peace.

We had not paſſed far from this ſweet ſequeſtered ſcene before we entered RI⯑DALE, where we were again charmed with new retreats, and happy retirements.

—Here we found a cultivated vale, not equal in width to Graſmere, but full of pretty incloſures, and watered with a Lake, on which a fine woody iſland ariſes.—We paſſed along the windings of this dale, till we reached the ſeat of Sir Michael Fleming,—an ancient man⯑ſion, ſtanding on the opening of the dale, on the ſouthern decline of the hills, which abound in wood land, and front to the Lake of WINDERMERE.—The ground before this ſeat is prettily diver⯑ſified with irregular knots of trees, ſituate [169]on natural eminences, and ſcattered with ſuch agreeable wildneſs and irregularity, that they ſeemed to be the work of na⯑ture;—the interſpaces between theſe knots of trees were mown in narrow meandring walks ^*.—At the diſtance of half a mile, oppoſite to the houſe, are [170]lofty rocks and hanging woods of oak, which form the channel of the river that feeds the Lake.

AMBLESIDE is ſituate on the ſwift de⯑cline of a hill, over which many high mountains ariſe towards the north.—The firſt appearance of our inn induced us to apprehend we ſhould haſten our depar⯑ture; but the aſſiduous deſire of pleaſing ſhewn in the conduct of the people coun⯑terbalanced their deficiencies.—Here we met with a gentleman, Mr Penney, of Penney-bridge, who was converſant with every curioſity in this country; his polite and genteel behaviour rendered our ſtay at Ambleſide very agreeable.—By this gentleman's directions his ſervant con⯑ducted us about a mile up the woody declivity of the hill behind the inn, where we ſaw a moſt amazing caſcade, totally different from any thing we had [171]met with upon our tour.—Making ſo great an aſcent, and not having reached a third of the height of this eminence, it might be ſuppoſed that when we gained the view it would be ſomething extraordinary.—The ruſhing of the wa⯑ters in the fall ſounded through the wood as we approached it, and ſeemed at once as if it was burſting over our heads, and tumbling beneath our feet;—this was ſoon reconciled, for in a few ſteps we perceived ourſelves to be upon the ſum⯑mit of a cliff, which overhung the chan⯑nel of the ſtream, where an old oak ſuſ⯑pended his romantic boughs over the precipice;—this was the only opening of the wood, or ſituation, where we could look into this tremendous gulph.—The river which falls here ariſes on the very height of the mountains, and flows in a very confined channel through an open⯑ing of rocks, the edges of which were [172]grown with ſtately trees, and thronged with thickets of hazel, birch, and holley. —We could look upwards from the place where we ſtood for about one hundred perpendicular yards, where we ſaw the river in two ſtreams pouring through the trees;—about the mid-way it united, and was again broken by a craggy rock grown with fern and bruſhwood, which threw it into two branches, foaming and making a horrid noiſe; but it ſoon united again, and from thence precipi⯑tated into a deep and dreary gulph for above ſixty yards below the cliff on which we ſtood, from whence it tumbled from rock to rock, and daſhed through a rough and craggy channel down to the town of Ambleſide with a mighty ſound, which ſhook the air ſo as to give a ſenſible agita⯑tion to the nerves, like the effect of a thunder-clap;—the whiteneſs of the fret⯑ting waters was beautifully contraſted by [173]the black rocks which formed their paſ⯑ſage.—It was almoſt impoſſible for the ſteadieſt eye to look upon this waterfall without giddineſs.—Its beauties for a painter were noble and various; the wood which hung upon the rocks over the ſtream was of mixed hues, the trees projecting from each precipice knotty and groteſque, the cliffs were black and fringed with ivy and fern, which gave a ſingular luſtre to the water⯑fall.—No fancy could exceed the happy aſſemblage of objects which rendered this view pictureſque.

The traces of Ambleſide's antiquity are not now to be found;—the inhabitants have not preſerved any of the Roman monu⯑ments which were formerly diſcovered here.

[176]From Ambleſide we went to BOWNAS, a ſmall village on the ſhore of the Lake of WINDERMERE; this was a delightful ride, lying within a little diſtance of the water, which was opened to our view as we paſt through various turnings of the road;—the ſides of the way are orna⯑mented with woods, meadows, and paſ⯑ture ground.

—The owner of the White Lion Inn, at Bownas, has a boat on the Lake, with which we were accommodated.— This Lake is very different from thoſe we had ſeen in Cumberland, being in length about twelve computed miles, and not a mile in width in the broadeſt part;—the hills ſeen around the Lake, except thoſe above Ambleſide, are humble;—the mar⯑gin of the water is irregular and indented, and every where compoſed of cultivated [175]lands, woods, and paſtures, which de⯑ſcend with an eaſy fall into the Lake, forming a multitude of bays and pro⯑montories, and giving it the appearance of a large river; in the narroweſt parts not unlike to the Thames below Richmond.— On that part where Furneſs Fell forms the ſhore, the ſcene is more rude and roman⯑tic.—The weſtern ſide of this Lake is in Lancaſhire, the eaſtern in Weſtmoreland.

As we ſailed down the Lake from Bownas, we had two views which com⯑prehended all its beauties;—we reſted upon the oars in a ſituation, where look⯑ing down the Lake, we took into the pro⯑ſpect the greateſt extent of water;—the ſhore was indented by woody promon⯑tories, which ſhot into the Lake on each ſide to a conſiderable diſtance;—to the right were the hills of Furneſs Fell, which are the higheſt that ariſe immediately from [176] [...] [175] [...] [176]the water, conſiſting chiefly of rocks, which though not rugged and deformed, have their peculiar beauty, being ſcatter⯑ed over with trees and ſhrubs, each of which grows ſeparate and diſtant;—the brow of this rock overlooks a pretty peniſula, on which the ferryboat-houſe ſtands, concealing its white front in a grove of ſycamores.—Whilſt we were looking on it, the boat was upon its way, with ſeveral horſe paſſengers, which greatly graced the ſcene;—to the left a ſmall iſland, of a circular form, layed covered with a thicket of aſh and birch wood; beyond which, the hills that aroſe from the Lake in gentle aſcents to the right were covered with rich herbage, and irregular groves;—on the left ſide of the Lake incloſures of meadow, ſweeping gently a way from the water, lay bound⯑ed by a vaſt tract of woods, and over⯑topped [177]with hills of mooriſh ground and heath;—the moſt diſtant heights which formed the back ground, were fringed with groves, over which they lifted their brown eminences, in various ſhapes.

—Upwards on the Lake, we looked on a large iſland of about thirty acres, of meagre paſture ground, in an irregular oblong figure; — here and there ſome misſhapen oak trees bend their crooked branches on the ſandy brinks, and one little grove of ſycamores ſhelters a cottage. —The few natural beauties of this iſland are wounded and diſtorted by ſome ugly rows of firs ſet in right lines, and by the works now carrying on by Mr Engliſh, the proprietor, who is laying out gardens on a ſquare plan, building fruit walls, and preparing to erect a manſion-houſe there.—The want of taſte is a misfortune [178]too often attending the opulent;—the ro⯑mantic ſcite of this place, on ſo noble a Lake, and ſurrounded with ſuch ſcenes, aſked for the fineſt imagination to have deſigned the plan of an edifice and pleaſure grounds;—but inſtead of that to ſee a Dutch Burgomaſter's palace ariſe on this place, to ſee a cabbage garth extend its boſom to the eaſt, ſquared and cut out at right angles, is ſo offenſive to the eye of the traveller, that he turns away with diſguſt.—For pleaſure, or for ornament, a narrow foot path is cut round the mar⯑gin of the iſland, and laid with white ſand, reſembling the duſty paths of foot paſ⯑ſengers over Stepney fields, or the way along which the owner often has heyed to Hackney.

I would overlook this misſhapen object, whilſt I viewed the Lake upwards, with its evirons;—the beautiful crags of Fur⯑neſs [179]Fell, over which trees are diſperſed in an agreeable wildneſs, form the front ground on the left, and by their projec⯑tion cover the hills, which are further ad⯑vanced towards the head of the Lake, which makes a curve bearing from the eye;—three ſmall woody iſlands, of a fine circular figure, and ſwelling to a crown in their centres, ariſe from out the Lake; with the deep verdure of their trees, giving an agreeable teint to the azure hue the water received from re⯑flection of the ſerene ſky above;—over an expanſe of water of the length of ſix miles, and near a mile in breadth, ſhining and bright as a mirror, we view⯑ed the agreeable variety of the adjacent country:—to the right wood lands and meadows, in many little peninſulas and promontories, deſcended with eaſy ſlopes to the brink of the Lake, where we view⯑ed Bownas church, and its cottages, [180]ariſing above the trees; beyond which laid the ſeat of Fletcher Fleming, Eſq ſituate on the brink of the Lake, and covered on every ſide with rich wood land; —further were cots and villages diſper⯑ſed on the riſing ground;—in the front ſtood Ambleſide, and at the opening of the deep vale of Rydale the houſe of Sir Michael Fleming, ſhielded on either hand by a wing of hanging foreſts, climbing up the ſteeps of the mountains.—The neareſt back ground to the right is com⯑poſed of an eminence called ORREST⯑HEAD, riſing gradually to a point, and cultivated to its crown, which ſweet mount is contraſted by the vicinage of the crags of BISCOT-HOE, which overtop the extenſive wood lands of Mr Fleming; —then TROUTBECK PARKS ariſe where the hills begin to encreaſe in magnitude, and form the range of mountains which are extended to Keſwick, diverſified with [181]paſturage, dells, and cliffs; looking over which LANGDON PIKES, three mountains riſing in perfect cones, extend their heads, ſurmounted only by the rocky and bar⯑ren brow of KIRSTONE FELL, whoſe cliffs overlook the whole.

The Lake of WINDERMERE differs very much from thoſe of HULLS-WATER and KESWICK;—here almoſt every ob⯑ject in view, on the whole Lake confeſſes cultivation;—the iſlands are numerous, but ſmall and woody, and rather bear a reſemblance to the artificial circles raiſed on gentlemen's ponds for their ſwans.—The great iſland is little better than a bank of ſand, but is now under the ſpoiling hand of a deformer.—The innumerable pro⯑montories are compoſed of fine meadow ground, and ranges of trees;—the hills except Furneſs Fell, and thoſe above [182]Ambleſide, are tame; and on every hand a vaſt expanſe of wood land is ſtretched upon the view.—The painters of POUSIN deſcribe the nobleneſs of HULLS-WATER; —the works of SALVATOR ROSA expreſs the romantic and rocky ſcenes of KES⯑WICK;—and the tender and elegant touches of CLAUDE LORAINE, and SMITH, pencil forth the rich variety of WINDERMERE.

The greateſt depth of Windermere, we were told, was not more than forty fa⯑thom; the water abounds in pike, trout, char, eels, and perch.—The Lake whilſt we viſited it was covered with the boats of fiſhing parties; it being cuſtomary for the country people, after their hay har⯑veſt, to make their days of jubilee in that diverſion.

In the church of Bownas is a window [183]of painted glaſs, which was preſerved at the diſſolution of Furneſs abbey, and brought hither;—the preſent remains ſhew that it has contained very fine co⯑louring 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 are wrote W. Hartley, Tho. Honſon, and other names, by the breaking of the glaſs rendered not legible.

[184]—Furneſs abbey was dedicated to St Mary, to whom alſo Bownas is inſcribed.

We went from Windermere to Ken⯑dal ^*;—the road lies chiefly over barren [185]and rocky hills, without change or va⯑riety to afford any pleaſure to the travel⯑ler. Towards the right, in the courſe of the way, appeared two openings which [186]ſhewed to us a ſmall bay of the ſea; but theſe without any degree of beauty.

—We deſcended to the town of Ken⯑dal, rejoiced to change the proſpect from barrenneſs and waſte to a rich cultivated vale, and a town thronged with induſtri⯑ous inhabitants, buſied in a proſperous manufactory.

KENDAL ſtands on the ſide of a hill, facing to the eaſt;—as we looked over the buildings from the heights which we were deſcending, we had a view of the ruins of Kendal Caſtle, ſeated on the crown of a fine eminence, at the diſtance of half a mile from the town, and ſepa⯑rated from it by the river Kan, over which two ſtone bridges are thrown.— The caſtle is now totally in decay, and ſcarce gives any idea by its preſent ap⯑pearance [187]of its ancient ſtrength and gran⯑deur.—On the front oppoſite to the town the remains of baſtions are ſeen, at the ſouth eaſt and north weſt corners, whilſt all behind conſiſts of confuſed and ragged walls.—The whole has formed a ſquare, defended by a ditch.

Above the town of Kendal, immedi⯑ately oppoſite to the caſtle, is a mole of a very ſingular form called by the inhabi⯑tants CASTLE LAW HILL.—Above the town ſome rocks ſhew themſelves of the height of ſeven fathom or near it, on which a mount has been thrown up of gravel and earth, of an exact circular form, ariſing from the plane on the top of the rock, near thirty feet;—at the front adjoining to the town, is a ſpacious level, on part of which a bowling green is now made.—The mole is defended by a deep ditch which extends itſelf from the brink [188]of the rocks, and on the right and left, the plane is fortified by an inferior mole or mount ^*.

—The crown of the great mole is flat, and has been defended by a breaſt work of earth and a narrow ditch; and from eaſt to weſt a ditch is ſtruck through the centre.—The whole circumference of the crown is ſixty-one paces;—the account given by the inhabitants of this place, [189]is that it was caſt up for battering the caſtle;—but for this purpoſe there was no need of ſo laborious a work; it being alſo much above the level of the caſtle, oppoſite to which many natural eminen⯑ces might ſerve for that end.

We paſſed from Kendal to BARROW⯑BRIDGE, a ſingle houſe, ſituate in a very narrow deep valley, hemmed in on every ſide by mountains covered with verdure; —a fine ſtream ſerpentines through the vale, and here and there little cottages are diſperſed, with ſcanty incloſures of meadow ground; over which hangs a narrow wood, from the riſing of the hills;—ſhut in on every ſide, this is a place calculated for the moſt ſolemn re⯑tirement;—in winter, the rays of the ſun for ſeveral weeks do not touch the vale, but only gild the mountains; along whoſe ſides the oppoſite land ſends an ex⯑tenſive [190]ſhadow, whoſe gradations are daily marked by the watchful eye of the peaſant, longing for returning vegetation.

—Here might the recluſe enjoy the pleaſures of ſolitude, and ſacrifice to vir⯑tue;—here might he avoid the ſins of the world, and commune with his own ſoul; —and whilſt commenting on the won⯑derous ſcene before him, ‘—Look through nature, up to nature's God ^*.’

We walked along the banks of the brook that murmured through the peb⯑bles,—we ſtrayed over the little meads, —we ſauntered in every grove, charmed with the deepneſs of the retirement.— The pleaſures of the ſcene were enhanced to me by my recollection of paſt felicity, which I had enjoyed from an evening [191]ramble in theſe ſequeſtered walks.—Ideas flowed upon my mind replete with de⯑licate ſentiments, whilſt images of a hap⯑py complexion poſſeſt reflection, and pre⯑ſented to me my family and my beloved infants.—Joy and affection melted my whole ſoul, and involuntary tears took the ſilent expreſſion of my tenderneſs and tranſport!

Loſt in ſelfiſhneſs, I have treſpaſſed upon my reader, and covered a page with impropriety: I hope the digreſſion may be pardoned.

From hence we continued our rout to KIRBY STEPHEN, near which place we viſited the ruins of PENDRAGON CAS⯑TLE ^*; of which the remains of a ſquare [192]tower only are left, and that moſt pro⯑bably of a modern date: For this place was repaired, after it had laid in ruins for near two centuries, by the Counteſs of Pembroke, about the time ſhe had re⯑ſtored Brough.—The ſituation of this place, being in a deep dell, on every hand overlooked by mountains, from whence it might be annoyed, ſhews it never could be built as a place of ſtrength, but rather as a retreat, and place of con⯑cealment in times of danger.—Oppoſite to this place, on the other ſide of the dell, is a ſmall intrenchment, fortified by a [193]ditch and vallum, but of what date or people no account can be obtained.—The Prince Euter Pendragon is of doubtful exiſtence, but is ſaid to have died by treachery, and poiſon put in a well, in the year five hundred and fifteen.

We paſſed by the ancient ſeat of the Wharton family, in WHARTON PARKS, now in decay.—Melancholy reflections ariſe on ſuch a view, when the traveller muſt neceſſarily exclaim, with a ſigh, ‘ſuch are the effects of diſſipation and vice!’