Near the village of Threlkeld, the road from Keswick to Penrith,
branching off on the right, discloses obliquely to the view, the
Vale of St. John. The well known description of this beautiful
dell by Mr. Hutchinson, who visited it in the year 1773, conferred
upon it a reputation which was greatly increased when the genius
of Scott made it the scene of his tale of enchantment "The Bridal
of Triermain." The interest which it derives from its traditional
connection with the wiles of Merlin, whose magic fortress continues
to attract and elude the gaze of the traveller, is well given in
the words of the former writer.
"We now gained a view of the Vale of St. John's, a very narrow
dell, hemmed in by mountains, through which a small brook makes
many meanderings, washing little enclosures of grass ground,
which stretch up the risings of the hills. 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 mountains 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 rugged battlements:
we traced the galleries, the bending arches, the buttresses. The
greatest antiquity stands characterized in its architecture; the
inhabitants near it assert it is an antidiluvian structure.
"The traveller's curiosity is roused, and he prepares to make a
nearer approach, when that curiosity is put upon the rack, by his
being assured that, if he advances, certain genii, who govern
the place, by virtue of their supernatural arts and necromancy
will strip it of all its beauties, and by enchantment transform
the magic walls. The vale seems adapted for the habitation of
such beings; its gloomy recesses and retirements 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, 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 mountains, and have so much the real form and resemblance
of a castle, that they bear the name of _The Castle Rocks of St.
John's_."
The more familiar appellation of this rocky pile among the dalesmen
is _Green Crag_. The approach into the valley from Threlkeld
displays it in the most poetical point of view, and under some
states of atmosphere it requires no stretch of the imagination to
transform its grey perpendicular masses into an impregnable castle,
whose walls and turrets waving with ivy and other parasitical
plants, form the prison of the immortal Merlin.
Other atmospheric effects, which occasionally occur in this
District, have been alluded to elsewhere in these notes; as the
aerial armies seen on Souter Fell, and the Helm Cloud and Bar, with
their accompanying wind, generated upon Cross Fell.
Phenomena of a singular character, which may be ascribed to
reflections from pure and still water in the lakes, have also
attracted observation. Mr. Wordsworth has described two of which
he was an eye-witness. "Walking by the side of Ulswater," says he,
"upon a calm September morning, I saw deep within the bosom of the
lake, a magnificent Castle, with towers and battlements; nothing
could be more distinct than the whole edifice;--after gazing with
delight upon it for some time, as upon a work of enchantment,
I could not but regret that my previous knowledge of the place
enabled me to account for the appearance. It was in fact the
reflection of a pleasure house called Lyulph's Tower--the towers
and battlements magnified and so much changed in shape as not to be
immediately recognised. In the meanwhile, the pleasure house itself
was altogether hidden from my view by a body of vapour stretching
over it and along the hill-side on which it extends, but not so as
to have intercepted its communication with the lake; and hence this
novel and most impressive object, which, if I had been a stranger
to the spot, would, from its being inexplicable, have long detained
the mind in a state of pleasing astonishment. Appearances of this
kind, acting upon the credulity of early ages, may have given birth
to, and favoured the belief in, stories of sub-aqueous palaces,
gardens, and pleasure-grounds--the brilliant ornaments of Romance.
"With this inverted scene," he continues, "I will couple a much
more extraordinary phenomenon, which will shew how other elegant
fancies may have had their origin, less in invention than in the
actual process of nature.
"About eleven o'clock on the forenoon of a winter's day, coming
suddenly, in company of a friend, into view of the Lake of
Grasmere, we were alarmed by the sight of a newly created Island;
the transitory thought of the moment was, that it had been produced
by an earthquake or some convulsion of nature. Recovering from the
alarm, which was greater than the reader can possibly sympathize
with, but which was shared to its full extent by my companion,
we proceeded to examine the object before us. The elevation of
this new island exceeded considerably that of the old one, its
neighbour; it was likewise larger in circumference, comprehending a
space of about five acres; its surface rocky, speckled with snow,
and sprinkled over with birch trees; it was divided towards the
south from the other island by a firth, and in like manner from the
northern shore of the lake; on the east and west it was separated
from the shore by a much larger space of smooth water.
"Marvellous was the illusion! comparing the new with the old
Island, the surface of which is soft, green, and unvaried, I do
not scruple to say that, as an object of sight, it was much the
more distinct. 'How little faith,' we exclaimed, 'is due to one
sense, unless its evidence be confirmed by some of its fellows!
What stranger could possibly be persuaded that this, which we know
to be an unsubstantial mockery, is _really_ so; and that there
exists only a single Island on this beautiful Lake?' At length
the appearance underwent a gradual transmutation; it lost its
prominence and passed into a glimmering and dim _inversion_, and
then totally disappeared;--leaving behind it a clear open area of
ice of the same dimensions. We now perceived that this bed of ice,
which was thinly suffused with water, had produced the illusion, by
reflecting and refracting (as persons skilled in optics would no
doubt easily explain,) a rocky and woody section of the opposite
mountain named Silver-how."
Southey describes a scene that he had witnessed on Derwent Lake,
as "a sight more dreamy and wonderful than any scenery that fancy
ever yet devised for Faery-land. We had walked down," he writes,
"to the lake side, it was a delightful day, the sun shining, and
a few white clouds hanging motionless in the sky. The opposite
shore of Derwentwater consists of one long mountain, which suddenly
terminates in an arch, thus [arch symbol], and through that
opening you see a long valley between mountains, and bounded by
mountain beyond mountain; to the right of the arch the heights
are more varied and of greater elevation. Now, as there was not a
breath of air stirring, the surface of the lake was so perfectly
still, that it became one great mirror, and all its waters
disappeared; the whole line of shore was represented as vividly
and steadily as it existed in its actual being--the arch, the vale
within, the single houses far within the vale, the smoke from the
chimneys, the farthest hills, and the shadow and substance joined
at their bases so indivisibly, that you could make no separation
even in your judgment. As I stood on the shore, heaven and the
clouds seemed lying under me; I was looking down into the sky, and
the whole range of mountains, having the line of summits under my
feet, and another above me, seemed to be suspended between the
firmaments. Shut your eyes and dream of a scene so unnatural and so
beautiful. What I have said is most strictly and scrupulously true;
but it was one of those happy moments that can seldom occur, for
the least breath stirring would have shaken the whole vision, and
at once unrealised it. I have before seen a partial appearance, but
never before did, and perhaps never again may, lose sight of the
lake entirely; for it literally seemed like an abyss of sky before
me, not fog and clouds from a mountain, but the blue heaven spotted
with a few fleecy pillows of cloud, that looked placed there for
angels to rest upon them."