THE
BOOK OF CONISTON
BY
W. G. COLLINGWOOD, M.A., F.S.A.,
_Editor to the Cumberland and Westmorland Antiquarian and
Archæological Society;
Author of "The Life of John Ruskin," etc._
THIRD EDITION--REVISED AND ENLARGED.
Kendal:
Titus Wilson, Publisher.
1906.
PRESS NOTICES
OF THE EARLIER EDITIONS.
"A capital little guide book."--_Daily News._
"It is an interesting little volume."--_Manchester Guardian._
"The ideal of a guide book."--_Carlisle Patriot._
"An excellent guide."--_Carlisle Journal._
"Confidently recommended."--_Ulverston Advertiser._
CONTENTS.
Page
I.--THE OLD MAN 1
II.--THE LAKE 8
III.--THE MOORLANDS AND THEIR ANCIENT
SETTLEMENTS 14
1.--The Blawith and Kirkby Moors 15
2.--Bethecar and Monk Coniston Moors 17
3.--Banniside and Torver Moors 18
IV.--EARLY HISTORY
Roman period 22
British period 23
Anglian period 23
Norse period 26
Norman period 28
V.--MONK CONISTON 31
VI.--THE FLEMINGS OF CONISTON HALL 37
VII.--THE CHURCH AND PUBLIC BUILDINGS 46
VIII.--CONISTON INDUSTRIES
Copper 58
Iron 62
Slate 65
Wood 68
IX.--OLD CONISTON 71
INDEX 87
I.--THE OLD MAN.
Our first walk is naturally to climb the Coniston Old Man. By the
easiest route, which fortunately is the most interesting, there is
a path to the top; good as paths go on mountains--that is, plain
to find--and by its very steepness and stoniness all the more of a
change from the town pavement and the hard high road. It is quite
worth while making the ascent on a cloudy day. The loss of the
panorama is amply compensated by the increased grandeur of the
effects of gloom and mystery on the higher crags, and with care
and attention to directions there need be no fear of losing the
way.
About an hour and a half, not counting rests, is enough for the
climb; and rather more than an hour for the descent. From the
village, for the first ten minutes, we can take two alternative
routes. Leaving the Black Bull on the left, one road goes up past
a wooden bridge which leads to the Old Forge, and by Holywath
Cottage and the gate of Holywath (J. W. H. Barratt, Esq., J.P.)
and the cottages of Silverbank, through a gate opening upon the
fell. Turn to the left, past sandpits in a fragment of moraine
left by the ancient glacier which, at the end of the Ice Age, must
once have filled the copper-mines valley and broken off here,
with toppling pinnacles and blue cavern, just like a glacier in
Switzerland. Note an ice-smoothed rock on the right, showing
basalt in section. Among the crannies of Lang Crags, which tower
above, broken hexagonal pillars of basalt may be found in the
screes, not too large to carry off as specimens. In ten minutes
the miniature Alpine road, high above a deep ravine, leads to the
Gillhead Waterfall and Bridge.
An alternative start may be made to the right of the Post Office,
and up the lane to left of the Sun Hotel; through the gate at
Dixon Ground, and over a wooden bridge beneath the mineral siding
which forms the actual terminus of the railway. Another wooden
bridge leads only to the grounds of Holywath, but affords a fine
sight of the rocky torrent bed with Coniston limestone exposed on
the Holywath side. The Coniston limestone is a narrow band of dark
blue rock, with black holes in it, made by the weathering-out of
nodules. It lies between the softer blue clay-slates we have left,
which form the lower undulating hills and moorlands, and the hard
volcanic rocks which form the higher crags and mountains.
The cartroad to the right, over the Gillhead Bridge, leads to the
copper mines and up to Leverswater, from which the Old Man can be
climbed, but by a much longer route. We take the gate and rough
path to the left, after a look at the fine glaciated rocks across
the bridge, apparently fresh from the chisel of the sculpturing
ice; the long grooves betray the direction in which the glacier
slid over them in its fall down the ravine. From a stile over the
wall the copper mines become visible above the flat valley-bottom,
filled with sand from the crushing of the ore. The path leads up
to the back of the Scrow among parsley fern and club moss, and
fifteen minutes from the bridge bring us through a sheepfold to
another stile from which Weatherlam is finely seen on the right,
and on the left the tall cascade from Lowwater. A short ten
minutes more, and we reach the hause (_háls_ or neck) joining the
crag of the Bell (to the left) with the ridge of the Old Man up
which our way winds.
Here we strike the quarry road leading from the Railway Station
over Banniside Moor, a smoother route, practicable (as ours
is not) for ponies, but longer. Here are slate-sheds, and the
_step_ where the sledges that come down the steep upper road are
slid upon wheels. The sledge-road winds round the trap rocks of
Crowberry haws (the grass-grown old road rejoins it a little
higher) and affords views, looking backwards, of Coniston Hall
and the lake behind. Five minutes above the slate-sheds the road
finally crosses Crowberry haws, and Lowwater Fall comes into
view--a broken gush of foam down a cleft 500 feet from brow to
base.
A shepherd's track leads to the foot of the fall and to the
Pudding Stone, a huge boulder--not unlike the famous Bowder Stone
of Borrowdale--a fragment from the "hard breccia" cliffs rising
behind it, namely, Raven Tor high above; Grey Crag beneath,
with the disused millrace along its flank; and Kernel Crag, the
lion-like rock over the copper mines. Dr. Gibson, the author of
_The Old Man, or Ravings and Ramblings round Conistone_, writing
half-a-century ago, says:--"On this crag, probably for ages, a
pair of ravens have annually had their nest, and though their
young have again and again been destroyed by the shepherds they
always return to the favourite spot." He goes on to tell that
once, when the parent birds were shot, a couple of strange ravens
attended to the wants of the orphan brood, until they were fit to
forage for themselves. On this suggestion, Dr. John Pagen White
has written his poem in _Lays and Legends of the English Lake
Country_, fancifully describing the raven on Kernel Crag watching
from prehistoric antiquity the changes of the world around it,
through past, present and future, to the crack of doom!
From the Pudding Stone experienced climbers can find their way up
the ledges of Raven Tor to the top of Lowwater Fall. We follow the
sledge road, and in five minutes reach Saddlestones Quarry, with
its tram-lines and tunnelled level, and continually increasing
platform of "rid" or débris.
Ten minutes' walk from the quarries brings us to Lowwater, with
glimpses of Windermere in the distance, and Leverswater nearer at
hand under the summit of Weatherlam. It is worth while turning off
to the right hand to see the great blocks of stone that lie in the
margin of the tarn, and at the head of the fall.
As we climb the zigzags to the highest quarries, over the slate
which stands out in slabs from the sward, the crags of Brimfell
and Buckbarrow opposite seem to rise with us. It is here, on a
cloudy day when the tops are covered, that the finest impressions
of mountain gloom may be found; under the cloud and the precipices
a dark green tarn, savage rocks, and tumbling streams; and out,
beyond, the tossing sea of mountain forms.
From the platform of the highest quarry, reached in ten minutes
from the tarn, a rough and steep path to the left leads in five
minutes more to the ridge, and the view of the lowland bursts
upon us with the Westmorland and Yorkshire hills in the distance.
Below, as Ruskin wrote when he first climbed here in 1867, "the
two lakes of Coniston and Windermere, lying in the vastest space
of sweet cultivated country I have ever looked over,--a great part
of the view from the Rigi being merely over black pine-forest,
even on the plains."
Fifteen minutes more take us up this steep arête to the top, 2626
feet above the sea.
There used to be three ancient cairns--the "Old Man" himself, his
"Wife" and his "Son":--_man_, the Celtic _maen_, being the local
name for a pile of stones, and the _Old Man_ simply the name of
the cairn, not of the whole mountain. These were destroyed to
build the present landmark. The circle of stones we have passed
marks the place of the Jubilee bonfire of 1887; the flare-lights
of King Edward's coronation were shown from the top of the cairn,
where in the days of fire signals was a regular beacon station.
The view on a clear day commands Ingleborough to the east,
Snowdon to the south, the Isle of Man to the west, and to the
north, Scafell and Bowfell, Glaramara and Skiddaw, Blencathra
and Helvellyn: and beneath these all the country spread out like
a raised model, with toy hills and lakes and villages. It is so
easy to identify the different points with the help of the map,
that it is hardly necessary to name them in detail. Under the
distant Pennines of Yorkshire lie Windermere, Esthwaite Water, and
Coniston with Monk Coniston Tarns at its head. Southward,--over
Walney Scar, Blind Tarn and Dow Crags close at hand,--are the
shores of Morecambe Bay and the Duddon Estuary, with Black Combe
rising dark against the sea. Westward, across the Duddon Valley,
the steep rocky summits of Harter Fell and Hard Knott. The group
close under our feet to the north includes Brimfell, Woolcrags,
and the Carrs, with Grey Friar on the left and Weatherlam on the
right, and in their hollows Lowwater and Leverswater. To the east
of Helvellyn are Fairfield, Red Screes and Ill Bell, above the
russet sides of Loughrigg and the distant detail of Ambleside.
At any time it is a fine panorama; but for grandeur of mountain
line Weatherlam is the better standpoint. To walk along the
ridge over springy turf is easy and exhilarating after the toil
of the stony climb; and the excursion is often made. A mile to
the depression of Levers Hause, another mile past Wool Crags and
the Carrs, down Prison Band (the arête running eastward from the
nearer side of the Carrs) to the dip at Swirl Hause; and a third
mile over Blacksail, would bring you to Weatherlam Cairn. And a
red sunset there, with a full moon to light you down the ridge
to Hole Rake and the copper mines and home, is an experience to
remember.
But for most of us enough is as good as a feast; and Weatherlam
deserves a day to itself, and respectful approach by Tilberthwaite
Gill. This walk leads from the village past Far End up Yewdale,
turning to left at the sign post, and up between Raven Crag,
opposite, and Yewdale Crag. At the next sign post turn up the
path to the left, passing Pennyrigg Quarries, and then keep the
path down into the Gill. The bridges, put up by Mr. Marshall, and
kept in repair by the Lake District Association, lead through the
ravine to the force at its head. Thence Weatherlam can be ascended
either by Steel Edge, the ridge to the left, or breasting the
steep slope from the hollow of the cove.
From the top of the Old Man we have choice of many descents. By
Levers Hause we can scramble down--it looks perilous but is easy
to a wary walker,--to Leverswater; and thence by a stony road to
the copper mines and civilization.
By Gaits Hause, a little to the west of the Old Man, we can reach
Gaits Water, and so across Banniside Moor to the village: or we
can take the grassy ridge and conquer Dow Crags with a cheap
victory, which the ardent climber will scorn. He will attack the
crags from below, finding his own way up the great screes that
border the tarn, and attack the couloirs,--those great chasms that
furrow the precipice. Only, he should not go alone. Here and there
the chimney is barred by boulders wedged into its narrow gorge:
which to surmount needs either a "leg up," or risky scrambling and
some nasty jumps to evade them. These chimneys are described with
due detail in the books on rock-climbing, but should not be rashly
attempted by inexperienced tourists.
The simplest way down is along Little Arrow Edge. The route can be
found, even if clouds blot out bearings and landmarks, thus. In
the cairn on the top of the Old Man there is a kind of doorway.
You leave that doorway square behind you, and walk as straight
as you can forward into the fog--not rapidly enough to go over
the edge by mistake, but confidently. Your natural instincts will
make you trend a trifle to the left, which is right and proper.
It you have a compass, steer south south-east. In five minutes
by the watch you will be well on the grass-grown arête, thinly
set with slate-slabs, but affording easy walking. Keep the grass
on a slightly increasing downward slope; do not go down steep
places either to right or to left, and in ten minutes more you
will strike a ledge or shelf which runs all across the breast of
the Old Man mountain, with a boggy stream running through it--not
straight down the mountain, but across it. If you strike this
shelf at its highest point, where there is no definite stream but
only a narrow bit of bog from which the stream flows, you are
right. If you find the stream flowing to your right hand, bear
more to the left after crossing it. Five minutes more of jolting
down over grass, among rough rocks which can easily be avoided,
and you see Bursting Stone Quarry--into which there is no fear of
falling if you keep your eyes open and note the time. By the watch
you should be twenty minutes--a little more if you have hesitated
or rested--from the top. Long before this the ordinary cloud-cap
has been left aloft, and you see your way, even by moonlight,
without the least difficulty towards the village; but though mist
may settle down, from this quarry a distinct though disused road
leads you safe home.
In ten minutes from the quarry the road brings you to Booth Tarn,
through some extremely picturesque broken ground, from which under
an ordinary sunset the views of the nearer hills are fine, with
grand foreground. Booth Crag itself stands over the tarn, probably
named from a little bield or shelter in ruins in a nook beneath
it; and where the quarry road comes out upon Banniside Moss, the
Coniston limestone appears, easily recognisable with its pitted
and curved bands, contrasting with the bulkier volcanic breccia
just above.
Beyond the tarn to the right are the volunteers' rifle-butts with
their flagstaff. Take the path to the left, and in five minutes
reach the gate of the intake, with lovely sunset and moonlight
views of the Bell and the Scrow to the left, and Yewdale beyond;
Red Screes and Ill Bell in the distance. Hence the road is plain,
and twenty minutes more bring you past the Railway Station to
Coniston village.
To give a good idea of the lie of the land there is nothing
like a raised map. A careful and detailed coloured model of the
neighbourhood (six inches to the mile, with the same vertical
scale, so that the slopes and heights are not exaggerated, but
true to nature) was made in 1882 under the direction of Professor
Ruskin, who presented it to the Coniston Institute, where it has
been placed in the Museum.
II.--THE LAKE.
Coniston Water it is called by the public now-a-days, but its
proper name is Thurston Water. So it is written in all old
documents, maps, and books up to the modern tourist period. In
the deed of 1196 setting forth the boundaries of Furness Fells it
is called _Thorstanes Watter_, and in lawyer's Latin _Turstini
Watra_, which proves that the lake got its title from some early
owner whose Norse name was Thorstein; in Latin, Turstinus; in
English, Thurston. In the same way Ullswater was Ulf's water, and
Thirlmere was Thorolf's mere, renamed in later times from a new
owner Leathes water--though in the end the older title finally
prevailed.
As a first rough survey it will be convenient to take the steam
gondola, and check off the landmarks seen on her trip, an all too
short half-hour, down to the waterfoot.
The start is from the pier near the head of the lake, at the
quaint boathouse built seventy years ago, in what was then called
the Gothic style, for the late Mr. John Beever of the Thwaite--the
house on the slope of the Guards Wood above the Waterhead Hotel.
The boathouse stands on a promontory made by Yewdale Beck, which
falls into the lake close at hand, and brings down with every
flood fresh material to build its embankment farther and farther
into the lake. So rapidly is its work done that a boulder is
pointed out, twenty yards inland, which was always surrounded by
water twenty or thirty years ago.
Another cause helps to hasten their work, for it is in this part
that the waves under the prevailing south-west winds attain their
greatest size and strength. The steamer captain who lives here
says that he has measured waves 65 feet long from crest to crest,
five feet high from trough to crest. These great waves dash back
the stones and gravel brought down by the becks and spread it
northwards, embanking it in a ridge under the water from this
point to Fir Point opposite. Dr. H. R. Mill, by his soundings in
1893, found the deepest part of the little northern reach to be
hardly more than 25 feet; this was close to the actual head of the
water, showing that it is the débris brought down by the Yewdale
and Church Becks which is silting up the bed.
Looking round this northern reach, which the gondola does not
traverse in her voyage, opposite is Fir Point, with the boathouse
of Low Bank; a little higher up in a bay, the twin boathouses of
Lanehead and Bank Ground; then the landings for Tent Lodge and
Tent Cottage, and the bathing house and boathouse belonging to
Victor Marshall, Esq., of Monk Coniston Hall, in the woods at
the head of the lake. At the true waterhead, where the road from
Hawkshead joins the road round the lake, used to stand the Old
Waterhead Inn. Nearer us are the boathouses at Kirkby Quay, and
the pier of the (new) Waterhead Hotel.
Leaving the steamer pier we are at once in deep water. The
soundings increase rapidly off the mouth of Church Beck, just
below Mason and Thwaites' boathouse; the bottom, gently shelving
for a few yards out, suddenly goes over a bank, and down at a
steep angle to a depth of 125 feet. On the evening of August
5th, 1896, a boy named George Gill sank there out of reach of
his companion, and was drowned before help could be got. At the
very moment the Parish Council in the village was discussing
regulations for boating and bathing. The sad news brought the
members down to the waterside for a painful object-lesson in the
necessity of life-saving apparatus. By private effort, in the
absence of public authority, life buoys and lines have now been
provided at the boathouses and piers, and it is hoped that all
will co-operate in the proper use of such means in case of need.
We have now passed the boathouse of Coniston Bank on the left, and
Coniston Hall on the right. Between the two the lake is at its
broadest--nearly half-a-mile. Land's Point on the right narrows
the lake to a third of a mile. Looking back, Yewdale Crag stands
finely over the waterhead; Brantwood is opposite. Between Coniston
Bank and Brantwood (fishermen and boat sailors may note) there is
a shoal nearly rising to the surface in low water--a bank of stiff
clay, about 50 yards off the east shore. On the right hand, in
the second field below Land's Point, the dark-looking bank just
above the foreshore is a mass of slag, the remains of an ancient
bloomery or smelting furnace; and in the next field called the
"Springs," half a mile below Land Point, there is another bloomery
site, marked by a tree-grown hillock. Behind these, plantations
cover the site of the ancient deer park of Coniston Hall. Exactly
opposite the "Springs" bloomery is a promontory formed by Beck
Leven, on which Ruskin's seat marks a favourite point of view
embracing the whole of the waterhead and the crags around. Across
the road from this seat and close to the beck are the slag mounds
of another bloomery.
We are now crossing the deepest part of the northern basin of the
lake, where Dr. Mill found over 150 feet of water. The bottom
rises, when we pass Hoathwaite boathouse on the right, to little
more than 125 feet, and off Fir Island deepens again, attaining
184 feet half a mile farther down--making this the deepest of
the lakes after Wastwater, Windermere, and Ullswater, as its
5-1/2 miles of length makes it the longest except Windermere and
Ullswater. Its normal level is 143 feet above the sea, though it
rises and falls in drought and damp weather as much as six feet.
Of the form of its bed Dr. Mill says:--"If the water were reduced
to sea level, there would remain two small lakes, the southern
measuring one mile and a half in length, and a quarter of a mile
in breadth, and having a maximum depth of 42 feet; the northern
one, separated by a quarter of a mile, being only 9 feet deep,
three-quarters of a mile long, and perhaps 200 yards wide at the
most. Quite possibly the two might be connected by a channel, and
give a long shallow lake of two and a half miles" (_Bathymetrical
Survey of the English Lakes_, p. 39). This bank or dam between the
two deeps is not caused by filling up from any stream like that at
the steamer pier; it points to the fact, more strikingly seen in
Windermere, that these long lakes, like most of the long valleys,
are not mere troughs or grooves ploughed in the rock, but a series
of basins, partly filled up with glacial débris, and partly joined
together by glacial erosion, which broke and planed away the
dividing barriers.
Fir Island (formerly from its owner called Knott Island, now
the property of Arthur Severn, Esq., R.I., J.P.) is low and
close to the water's edge, hardly distinguishable except by its
grove of Scotch firs from the rest of the coast. In very dry
weather it becomes a peninsula, but usually a boat can make the
circumnavigation, though there is risk of shipwreck on the sharp
rocks to the landward side. Near it, beyond the road which winds
prettily along the uneven and craggy shore, are the ruins of
Copland's Barn; and above it the great larch woods of the Heald,
on a noble slope of nearly 700 feet from the brow of the fell to
the lake. The western shore is formed by the long and varied slope
of Torver Common, down which runs the Moor Gill. At its foot,
exactly opposite Copland's Barn, is the most extensive of the
bloomeries, with the ruins of an old hearth still to be found.
At last the continuous skylines are broken. On the left, a steep
dingle runs up among rocks and woods to Parkamoor, a lonely farm
on a bleak brow top; and on the right, the valley of Torver begins
to open out, with glimpses of Dow Crags and the Old Man in a new
aspect, showing their precipices boldly against the sky, and
beneath them Sunny Bank and Oxness at the mouth of Torver Beck.
Peel Island is now before us, a crag standing romantically out of
the water, and rich with varied foliage. From its western brink
the bed of the lake runs rapidly down to a depth of more than 100
feet.
The island itself was for a while known as Montague Island, from
its owner. It was sometimes called the "Gridiron," for it is made
up of a series of bars of rock, so to say, with a long projecting
"calf rock" that stood for the handle. It might as well be called
the ship, with the cockboat astern. But the old original name was
Peel Island, which to a student of place-names indicated that it
once was used as a fortress; and permission being asked from the
agent of the owner, the Duke of Buccleugh, some little excavations
were made, which revealed ancient buildings and walls, with
pottery of an early mediæval type and other remains, which can be
seen in the Coniston Museum. But Peel Island is such a jewel of
natural beauty that antiquarian curiosity hardly justified more
than the most respectful disturbance of its bluebells and heather.
Below this, the shores become more indented and more picturesque;
the hills around do not fall off into tameness, as at the feet
of some of the lakes. On the right is the Beacon, with its cairn
conspicuous at 835 feet above sea; on the left, Selside rises to
1,015 feet. Opposite is Brown How, or Brown Hall, prettily built
at the water's edge; and on the long nab that stretches half-way
across the lake is the old mansion of Water Park (A. P. Bridson,
Esq.).
The gondola slows down and rounds to the little pier, on one of
the loveliest bits of all our lakeland scenery. Five minutes' walk
takes you up to the Lakebank Hotel, and from its terrace--still
better from the knoll above it when the surrounding trees are bare
or lopped--the view embraces (beginning from the left) the Beacon,
Dow Crags, the Old Man, and Weatherlam; Helvellyn, with Yewdale
Crag and Raven Crag beneath; Fairfield and Scandale Head, with
Loughrigg below (Red Screes and Ill Bell are not visible), and
the lake's whole length with all its wooded promontories. To the
right, across the water, the village of Nibthwaite, with cottages
nestling under the steep and rocky mountain edge, and ruined quay
which formed, before the railway tapped the traffic of Coniston,
the terminus of its ancient waterway.
Formerly this lake, like Derwentwater, boasted a floating
island--a mass of weeds and water plants detached from the bottom,
and carrying enough solid matter to make it a kind of natural
raft. In the floods and storms of October, 1846, it was stranded
near Nibthwaite, and remained thenceforward indistinguishable from
the rest of the shore.
Thurston Water used to be famous for its char, which were thought
to be even finer and better than those of Windermere. Sir Daniel
Fleming of Rydal notes in his account book, under the date
February 19th, 1662 (1663, new style):--"Given unto Adam Fleming
for bringing eleven dozen of charres from Conistone, for four pies
1s. 6d.;" and he used to send presents of Coniston char pies, as
the most acceptable of delicacies, to his distinguished friends in
London. In the middle part of the nineteenth century the turbid
or poisonous matter washed into the lake by the streams from the
copper mines, then in full work, is said to have killed off both
char and trout; but it is an ill-wind that blows nobody good, and
the cessation of copper mining has left the water pure again. The
Angling Association has restocked the lake from Windermere, and is
breeding fish by thousands from spawn in its pond near Coniston
Hall. Both the red char (the larger sort, with red bellies and red
pectoral fins) and the silver char (with silvery backs and orange
bellies) are now caught, and opportunities for fishermen are
increasing with every year.
Pike, the natural enemies of char and trout, are kept down by
netting, but are often taken with the line; for example, two of
16 lbs. each were caught by Mr. Rylands in August and September,
1897, with yellow phantom and red wagtail. Perch abound, and
afford exciting sport to less ambitious amateurs of the gentle
craft. There are eels, too, and minnows in abundance, and an
occasional stray salmon. Otters are hunted in the summer. Along
the shore a quiet observer may sometimes startle one from his
repose, and in bowery nooks or up the mouths of the becks may note
the blue gleam of the flitting kingfisher.
III.--THE MOORLANDS AND THEIR ANCIENT SETTLEMENTS.
The moors around Coniston are full of curious and interesting
remains--cairns, circles, camps and settlements--of the remotest
age in which this country was inhabited. Lying away from the high
roads they are comparatively little known, but can easily be
reached in the course of a day's walk or on horseback, or else by
cycling--so far as the cycle will go, which is usually within a
short distance of the spots to be sought--and leaving the cycle to
the honesty of the country folk.
These remains are described by Mr. H. Swainson Cowper, F.S.A., in
"The Ancient Settlements, Cemeteries, and Earthworks of Furness"
(_Archæologia_, vol. liii., 1893, with plans), and some of them
have passing notice in books relating to the district. Their
very rudeness is a source of interest, and the mystery of their
origin offers a fresh field for antiquarian research. To the
unlearned visitor they are no less interesting--if he can throw
his imagination back to wild days of ancient Britain, and repeople
the heather and rocks with Children of the Mist. In their day the
valleys were choked with matted forest or undrained swamp; the
moorlands alone were healthy and habitable; not so bare and bleak
as now, but partly sheltered, in their hollows and watercourses,
by groves of rowan and birch, holly and yew, and the native forest
trees of the north. Around these settlements the wilderness
swarmed with red deer and roe, wild swine and cattle, capercailzie
and moor fowl of every kind--good hunting, with only the wolf pack
to dispute the spoil; for there is no reason to suppose that war,
in our sense of the word, has ever invaded these homesteads and
cattle-garths of primitive hunting and pastoral folk, whose chief
foes were the wild beasts of the fells. Nor should we suppose
that the circles are Druid temples where human sacrifices were
offered. Some are the fences built around graves, and others are
the foundations of round houses like the huts which wood-cutters
still make for their temporary lodging when they are at work in a
coppice. Others may have been sacred places; but let us withhold
our fancies until we have seen the facts.
1.--THE BLAWITH AND KIRKBY MOORS.
The Beacon of Blawith, already noticed, can be climbed in about
half-an-hour from Lakebank Hotel. South of the cairn on the top is
Beacon Tarn, and two miles south-west over the heather (in which
are various unimportant cairns and platforms, perhaps ancient,
but more probably "tries" for slate) rises Blawith Knott, and
beyond, at its foot where four roads meet, the Giant's Grave. The
Giant's Grave can be easily reached by road; 2-1/2 miles from
Woodland Station, or 4 miles (_via_ Blawith and Subberthwaite)
from Lakebank. This walk, as described, is well under 10 miles by
cross roads. The story, still current in the neighbourhood, tells
that in the Heathwaite "British settlement" (half a mile south
of the cross roads) lived a race of giants, of whom the last was
shot with an arrow on the Knott and buried in the grave; and,
on opening it, the Rev. Francis Evans found calcined bones and
charcoal.
The Heathwaite settlement consists of the foundations of ancient
dwellings, just to the north of Pewit Tarn, and surrounded by
extensive ruined stone walls, and a great number of cairns. Many
of these are mere heaps of stones thrown together by the farmers
to clear the land, in order to mow the bracken which they carry
away for litter. Some of the cairns and walls, however, appear to
be ancient.
A mile and a half south of this, on the headland to the right-hand
side of the road, just before we reach Burney Farm, is the ruined
enclosure, roughly square, with a party wall across the middle
of it, known as the "Stone Rings." The walls are of a type seen
in the British settlement near High Borrans, Windermere, and at
Urswick Stone Walls--that is to say, flanked by big slabs set on
edge, as though the builders were rudely trying to imitate the
Roman walls of rubble thrown into an outer casing of masonry.
Following the road for a mile to south-east, shortly before coming
to the Goathwaite Quarries, in the heather on the left may be
found a small ring embankment; and about a mile as the crow flies
south-east of this, across a little valley and only to be reached
by a somewhat roundabout road, is the remnant of what was once a
fine stone circle (quarter of a mile north of Knapperthaw).
Looking south-west from here we see a pass across Kirkby Moor, to
the left of the rounded summit (over 1,000 feet) opposite. From
the top of that pass, a short mile to the west, is a conspicuous
grey cairn of loose stones, which was opened by Mr. Jopling
(author of _A Sketch of Furness and Cartmel_, 1843), and found to
contain burnt bones in a prehistoric "kist" of flagstones.
Turning south from this, by a grassy track through the heather,
five minutes' walk brings us to the "Kirk," a ring embankment
on the brink of the gill which encloses the site on two sides,
probably sepulchral, and perhaps connected with the great cairn,
as there are the remains of an avenue of standing stones leading
in that direction. A field near this is called "Kirk Sinkings,"
with which compare "Kirk Sunken," the name of the Swinside Circle,
and of other similar sites. _Kirk_ or _Currock_ does not imply
a consecrated spot, but is the common word (surviving from the
"Cumbrian" or Welsh) for stone monuments.
From this, twenty minutes westward down a steep road through the
picturesque gill brings us to Kirkby Watermill and Church (Norman
door and font, and a tombstone in the chancel which combines the
simple cross with rudimentary effigy). Kirkby Hall, a mile to
the north, is a fine specimen of the ancient manor house. Another
mile northward is Grizebeck, with remains of a ring embankment,
unimportant, behind the cottages. Hence it is a little over two
miles to Foxfield, or three to Broughton; or, omitting Grizebeck,
from Kirkby Church ten minutes' walk brings us down to Kirkby
station.
2.--BETHECAR AND MONK CONISTON MOORS.
South of Lakebank, turning to left down a narrow lane through the
hamlet of Water Yeat, we reach Bouthray (Bouldery) Bridge over the
Crake, and see, half a mile further down, the new Blawith Church
on the site of an old Elizabethan chapel. Opposite it, across
the river by a footbridge, is Low Nibthwaite bobbin mill--in the
eighteenth century an important "forge" where iron was smelted
with charcoal.
Crossing the bridge, and leaving Arklid Farm on the right, 1-1/2
mile from Lakebank brings us to Nibthwaite, whence the lakeside
road leads in about 7-1/2 miles to Coniston Church, past Brantwood
and Waterhead; the path to the moors strikes up to the right hand
and across the breast of Selside. Another path leads to the Top of
Selside, 1,015 feet, with Arnsbarrow Tarn and Bell Beck descending
from it, to the south-west, with several good waterfalls. Bethecar
Moor is between Bell Beck and Nibthwaite--fine broken ground,
which seems to have been less inhabited than the other moors, for
no remains except a cairn (1-1/4 mile due west of Waterpark) have
been reported.
Two miles north of Nibthwaite is Parkamoor, which in the Middle
Ages was a sheep cote belonging to Furness Abbey. Recently, walled
up in an outbuilding, on a deserted farm near at hand, part of a
woman's skeleton was found. There is an obscure story of an old
lady who disappeared after residence at Parkamoor some generations
ago, but nothing has been proved as to the supposed murder; nor is
there any reason to connect this with an alleged ghost at Coniston
Bank, several miles distant.
Hence the path to the right goes to Satterthwaite, down Farragrain
Gill; northward, a track leads over the Heald, with magnificent
views, to the lonely hill farm of Lawson Park, another Furness
Abbey sheep cote (2-1/2 miles), and down to Lanehead and Coniston
(3-1/4 miles); or by a cart track met 1/4 mile above Lawson Park,
and leading upward and northward, we can traverse Monk Coniston
Moor, and descend to civilisation by the lane that crosses from
Grizedale to Lanehead. Along the ridge which forms the boundary
between Monk Coniston and Hawkshead is High Man (922 feet), where
in a cairn is a stone with the initials "J. W., 1771" and "E. D.,
1817," and on the west side of the stone "T. F., 1817"--evidently
a _merestone_ or boundary mark. A circle and other cairns have
been noted near this summit; the circle may be comparatively
modern, the ruins of a hut such as charcoal-burners make for
temporary lodgings in the woods.
High Cross, where the Coniston, Ambleside, and Hawkshead roads
meet, is close at hand, 2-1/2 miles from Coniston Church.
3.--BANNISIDE AND TORVER MOORS.
Up the road behind the Railway Station, in twenty-five minutes you
reach the gate of Banniside Moor, which we passed in descending
the Old Man. Along the quarry road to the right towards Crowberry
Haws, about a third of a mile from the gate, below you on the
right-hand side is an ancient garth of irregular rectangular
shape, with a circular dwelling in the middle of the highest side.
A small outlying building is just to the south-east. This seems
more modern in type than some of the remains we find in the moors,
but it is difficult to classify and impossible to date.
Returning to the gate, follow the Walna Scar path over Banniside
to the south-west for ten minutes; 300 yards west of the flagstaff
is a ring-mound on a levelled platform at the edge of Banniside
Mire, formerly a tarn, but now almost peated up.
Rather more than half a mile south-west of the flagstaff you
strike Torver Beck, after passing many clearing-heaps among the
bracken beds--the subject of Dr. Gibson's dialect sketch of
"Bannasyde Cairns" in _The Folk-speech of Cumberland_.
Clearings and tries for slate, old limekilns and pitsteads and
sheepfolds and so forth, are traps for the amateur antiquary.
But in many cases, as we have seen, and shall find in the course
of our day's walk, digging has proved that the cairns on these
moors were actually the graves of prehistoric people, or forgotten
sites of ancient habitation. Much remains to be explored; and the
"enclosure" we come to, a few steps down Torver Beck, is a case in
point.
It is a ruined stone wall forming an irregular quadrangle, through
which a cart-track now runs. Within it is what looks like a hut
circle on the brink of the ravine, from which water could be got
by simply letting a backet down into the stream beneath. Across
the beck, about 100 yards to the south-west, Mr. Cowper notes
another ring-mound "badly preserved, without entrance or trenches."
Going due south to the footbridge across Tranearth Beck (or the
Black Beck of Torver), and then striking up Hare Crags to the
south-east (about two-thirds of a mile from the last), we come to
a large ring-mound with double ditch, intrenching the top of the
hill. From this, descending to the south-west and crossing the
beck by another footbridge, we strike a path leading north-west in
half a mile to Ashgill Bridge and Quarry.
Along the ridge of Bleaberry Haws (1/4 mile south-west) is yet
another ring-mound on the edge of a lake basin, now peat moss; and
200 yards farther we find the northern angle of the Bleaberry Haws
dyke, a more important example of the kind seen on Hawkshead Moor.
Following the dyke to the south-west and turning to the left
where it disappears, we find a circle of seven stones, into which
Mr. Cowper dug, and found a rough pavement of cobble-stones at a
depth of two to three feet resting upon the natural rock. Many
cairns are passed on going a few steps eastward to strike the
main line of the dyke, which runs down into Bull Haw Moss, making
a curious fold or fork at the farther side of the valley, and
then climbing the steep bank and running over the top due south,
until it loses itself among a group of cairns in which Mr. Cowper
found prehistoric interments. The dyke is altogether over a mile
long, partly a stone wall, partly an earthwork. Antiquaries have
been much divided over its possible use and object; the late W.
Jackson, F.S.A., thought it might be a kind of deer trap. The deer
would be driven from the south-west along the moorland valley, and
_cornered_ in the fork of the wall.
From the southern extremity of the dyke a path leads down to the
road from Broughton Mills to Torver. Two miles south-west along
this road, and between it and Appletreeworth Beck, Dr. Kendall of
Coniston has noticed a similar dyke. The name of a neighbouring
farm, Burnmoor, suggests the recognition of "borrans" or stone
heaps of more than usual importance. In the Burnmoor above Eskdale
are important stone circles.
Torver Station is rather more than a mile from the point where we
struck this road, and Coniston 2-1/2 miles more by road or rail.
* * * * *
Coniston is a good centre for further excursions in search of
moorland antiquities. From Woodland station a day's round might be
made by Broughton Mills to the cairns and enclosures on the south
side of Stickle Pike and above Stonestar; across the Duddon to
the ruins of Ulpha Old Hall, Seathwaite, the home of "Wonderful
Walker" (born at Undercrag, 1709; died at Seathwaite, 1802, in the
67th year of his curacy there); then back by Walna Scar, passing
ancient remains of undetermined age. The first group is found
by turning to the right below the intake wall until a stile is
reached, below which, and beyond, are traces of rude building. On
rejoining the road up Walna Scar, a gate is seen across the beck;
through it and about a quarter of a mile horizontally along the
breast of the hill are extensive ruined walls, and many outlying
remains on a shelf of the mountains about 1,000 feet above the
sea. Hence the way to the top of the Scar is plain, and Coniston
is about an hour's easy walking by a well-marked path from the
summit.
Swinside Circle is about 4-1/2 miles from Broughton station, and
is little inferior to the great circle near Keswick. On digging it
we found nothing at all; we learnt, however, that the place was
not used for interments or sacrifices, and its origin remains a
mystery.
Other prehistoric sites within reach of Coniston are Barnscar and
Burnmoor (by the Eskdale railway); Urswick Stone Walls, Foula,
Sunbrick Circle and Appleby Slack, Pennington Castle Hill and
Ellabarrow in Low Furness; and Hugill British Settlement near
Windermere station.
IV.--EARLY HISTORY.
ROMAN PERIOD.
There are no Roman remains at Coniston; but a great Roman road
passed just to the north of the township from the camp, still
visible, at Ambleside, through Little Langdale, over Wrynose and
Hardknott to the camp at Hardknott Castle, and so down Eskdale
to the port of Ravenglass, where at Walls Castle there are the
site of a camp and the ruin of a Roman villa. It is possible that
a trackway used in Roman times passed through Hawkshead, for
fragments of Roman brick have been found at Hawkshead Hall and
a coin at Colthouse (see Mrs. H. S. Cowper's _Hawkshead and its
Neighbourhood_: Titus Wilson, Kendal, sixpence).
There is a tradition that the Coniston coppermines were worked
by the Romans; but there is no evidence to prove it. One point
that tends to suggest the possibility of such a belief is that
about the year 85 A.D., soon after Agricola had overcome all
this part of the country, a certain savant, Demetrius of Tarsus,
fellow-townsman of St. Paul and not much his junior, was sent by
the Emperor Domitian to Britain, it would seem for the purpose of
enquiring into its products, especially in metals (Canon Raine,
_York_, p. 17). Two bronze tablets, dedicated by this Demetrius
to the gods Oceanus and Tethys, were found at York, and are now
in the museum there; and on his return from these savage regions
he went to Delphi and told his traveller's tales to Plutarch, who
mentions the fact in his treatise _On the Cessation of Oracles_.
It might be said that these rich copper mines could hardly fail to
attract the notice of the conquerors; of whom their own Tacitus
says, speaking of their disappointment in the pearl fishery of
Britain--"I could more easily believe that the pearls are amiss,
than that we Romans are wanting in 'commercial enterprise.'"
_Avaritia_ is the old cynic's word, in the life of Agricola, chap.
12.
BRITISH PERIOD.
After the Romans left, until the middle of the seventh century
this district remained in the hands of the Cumbri or Welsh, who
probably dwelt in some of the ancient moorland settlements we have
already visited. They have perhaps left traces in the language,
but less than is often asserted.
Some have thought "Old Man" to be a corruption of the Welsh _Allt
Maen_, "high stone" or "stone of the slope." But even if it be
more reasonably explained as we have suggested, the word "man"
for a stone or cairn is Welsh. Dow Crags are sometimes dignified
into Dhu Crags; but though both "dow" and "crag" have passed into
our dialect, both are of Celtic origin. The mountain crest over
Greenburn called Carrs cannot be explained as Norse _Kjarr_, a
"wood;" but being castle-like rocks, may be from the Welsh _caer_.
There are many "combes" and "tors," "pens" and "benns" (the last
Gaelic, for some of the hill tribes may well have been survivors
of the kindred race of Celts). Of the rivers hereabouts--Kent,
Leven, Duddon, Esk, and perhaps Crake are Celtic.
ANGLIAN PERIOD.
When the Angles or English settled in the country, as they did
in the seventh century, they came in by two routes, which can be
traced by their place-names and their grave monuments. One was
by Stainmoor and the Cumberland coast, round to Ravenglass; and
the other by Craven to the coast of Morecambe Bay. There is no
evidence of their settlement in the Lake District fells, except in
the Keswick neighbourhood, where the story of St. Herbert gives us
a hint that though the fell country might not be fully occupied,
it was not unexplored in the seventh century. The mention of
the murder of Alf and Alfwine, sons of King Alfwald, in 789 at
Wonwaldremere cannot be located at Windermere with any certainty;
but still it is possible that the Angles penetrated to Coniston.
The Anglian settlements are known by their names--Pennington,
the _tun_ of the Pennings in Furness; Workington, the _tun_ of
the Weorcingas, and so on. Among the mountains there is only
one _ton_--Coniston, or as it was anciently spelt Cuninges-tun,
Koninges-ton. Conishead in Low Furness was Cunninges-heved, the
headland of the King, where perhaps Ecgfrith or his successors
had a customs-house to take toll of the traders crossing the
sands to the iron mines. So Cynings-tun (the y pronounced like a
French u, and making in later English Cunnings-tun) might mean
King's-town; in Norse, Konungs-tun, whence we get the alternative
pronunciations of the modern spelling, Coniston or Cuniston. What
the Norse had to do with it we shall soon see.
Now it is unlikely that kings lived in so out-of-the-way a place;
but possible that they appropriated the copper mines. The ancient
claim of kings to all minerals is still kept in mind by the word
"royalty." And if the king's miners lived here under his reeve
or officer, their stockaded village would be rightly known as
Cynings-tun, the King's-town.
It is right to add that some antiquaries make the names beginning
with Coning-or Coni-to mean the Rabbits'-town, Rabbits'-head,
Rabbits'-garth, and so forth, and yet even in Iceland, which was
always republican, there is a Kongsbakki, King's-bank, at which
no king ever lived. In ancient times, as now, sentiment counted
for something in the naming of places; and many names, otherwise
without meaning, may have been simply given by the settler in
remembrance of his old home. We cannot say for certain that
Coniston was not so called by an immigrant of the Viking Age, much
later than the invasion of the Angles; possibly he came from a
place of similar name in Craven or Holderness or elsewhere and
brought the name with him.
The Welsh appear to have remained under Teutonic (or later,
Scandinavian) masters, and one relic of their tongue seems to
show how they were treated. They seem to have been employed as
shepherds, and they counted their flocks:--
Un, dau, tri, y pedwar, y pimp;
Chwech, y saith, y wyth, y nau, y dec;
Un-ar-dec, deu-ar-dec, tri-ar-dec, pedwar-ar-dec, pemthec;
Un-ar-pymthec, deu-ar-pymthec, tri-ar-pymthec, pedwar-ar-pymthec,
ucent;
or in the ancient equivalent form of these Welsh numerals, which
their masters learned from them, and used ever after in a garbled
form as the right way to count sheep. The Coniston count-out runs--
Yan, taen, tedderte, medderte, pimp;
Sethera, lethera, hovera, dovera, dick;
Yan-a-dick, taen-a-dick, tedder-a-dick, medder-a-dick, mimph;
Yan-a-mimph, taen-a-mimph, tedder-a-mimph, medder-a-mimph,
gigget.
And from these north-country dales the Anglo-Cymric score has
spread, with their roaming sons and daughters, pretty nearly all
the world over. (See the Rev. T. Ellwood's papers on the subject
in Cumb. and West. Antiq. Soc. _Transactions_, vol. iii.)