Ullswater and Helvellyn.
Ullswater is at once the finest and the tamest of all the lakes. This
seeming paradox is explained when one realizes that it is formed of
three distinct reaches, all of which are hidden from the others. The
lowest reach stretches out in a thin wedge of water to the confines of
the mountains at Pooley Bridge; the higher fells are away at the other
end. In its length of nine miles the lake stretches further and further
into the recesses of the hills, until, at its head or upper reach, it
nestles amongst the most beautiful and impressive combination of
mountains and woods in Lakeland. The middle reach also, has a beauty of
its own, a mixture of the sublime and the ordinary. Its chief charm lies
in its loneliness, evidence of human habitation being almost entirely
lacking.
As we sail up from the foot of the lake there is ever present the
feeling that we are working up to a climax, and this is attained when
the top reach bursts on our view in a way that is quite dramatic and
which exceeds our most sanguine expectations. The richly wooded slopes
on our right descend to the water’s edge, whilst above they merge into
the craggy fellsides, in many places overgrown by purple heather and
golden bracken, with sombre Scotch firs interspersed in lavish style.
Beyond this front array stretches the long, lean flank of Helvellyn,
glimpses of which are caught away at the heads of all the side valleys.
In front of us the fine sweep of St. Sunday’s Crag, one of the most
perfect outlines in the district, forms a centre-piece. Its beautiful
curve sweeps gracefully down towards the Grisedale Valley, like a
high-born lady acknowledging the existence of a humbler presence.
Further round still is the deep valley of Kirkstone, bounded on the left
again by the High Street range and its dependencies. Place
Fell--variegated with masses of dark gorse and crag, but almost devoid
of trees--fills in the scene on the left, an excellent foil to the
luxuriance which is the dominant note of the opposite shore.
Ullswater is more reminiscent of the lakes of Switzerland or Scotland
than any of the others, and no doubt those visitors who award the palm
of beauty to it have previously formed their ideals in these two
districts. Perhaps these are the people whose opinion is the soundest
and most discriminating; however this may be, Ullswater certainly
disputes the sovereignty of beauty with Windermere and Derwentwater.
After the sail up the lake on one of the comfortable steam yachts which
run continuously throughout the season, the best idea of Ullswater is to
be obtained by walking from Howtown Bay to Patterdale, along the western
margin of the water. A rough, unobtrusive path leads us past the flank
of Hallin Fell, whence the full sweep of the lowest reach is in full
view with the rounded form of Dunmallet, an old Roman fort, away in the
distance. After ten minutes stroll through knee-deep bracken, with its
fragrant scent in our nostrils and the song of birds in our ears, we
reach the tree-covered rocky point known as Kailpot Crag. This gets its
name from a curious water-wrought rock basin, near the water’s edge,
known as the “Devil’s Kailpot,” which is about a foot deep and eighteen
inches across. There is a common local tradition that it brings luck to
those who drop money into it. And this proceeding does undoubtedly bring
luck--to the knowing ones who collect the coppers after the credulous
tourist has taken his departure!
[Illustration: Ullswater
From Silver Point, showing the head of the lake and St. Sunday’s Crag,
with Helvellyn to the right.]
Across the lake from here are the Mell Fells, and a short distance
farther up, also on the opposite side, Gowbarrow Park, recently
purchased by the National Trust. This is now open to the public for ever
and a debt of gratitude is undoubtedly due to those sixteen hundred
public spirited persons who subscribed the necessary funds. Long after
our district has been bought up by private owners and their
notice-boards stare one in the face at every turn, this, the most
beautiful, wooded glen in Cumberland, will be open for ever to the
nature lover without let or hindrance--a great national infirmary where
hard workers can come and drink in Nature’s own medicine. Not only is
this Gowbarrow Park beautiful in itself, with its wealth of parkland,
its glorious foliage, under which the red and fallow deer feed, and its
torrent-filled glen, but the views of Ullswater as seen from here impart
to it a character possessed by no other park in the length and breadth
of the land.
The gorge down which dashes the waterfall, Aira Force, is the most
beautiful spot in the park and the fall itself, a single leap of about
sixty feet in height, is one of the finest in Lakeland. Gowbarrow Park
and the fell above it were opened by the Speaker in 1906, when he
felicitously recalled the mountain in labour which brought forth a
mouse--“but,” to quote his words on this occasion, “it is the mice that
have been in labour and brought forth a mountain.” More “mice” are
needed. Lakeland estates are constantly coming into the market and it
would be a fine thing if funds were always in readiness to secure them
for the nation. Canon Rawnsley, of Keswick, is the honorary secretary of
the National Trust, and will always be glad to receive donations to this
end.
It was on the margin of the water below Gowbarrow that Wordsworth saw
the daffodils which inspired his poem, ridiculed by the critics of his
time but now recognised as a glory of our national literature. The last
verse is so typical of Wordsworth’s conception of nature that I take the
liberty of quoting it:
“For oft when on my couch I lie,
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye,
Which is the bliss of solitude:
And then my heart with pleasure fills
And dances with the daffodils.”
After rounding Kailpot Crag the path winds along the side of Hallin Fell
and Birk Fell for a couple of miles until it crosses Silver Point, and
we come into full view of the upper reach of the lake. Ullswater looks
magnificent from here. Right across from us, seen over the little island
of House Holm, is richly wooded Glencoin, above which the bleak Dodds of
Helvellyn stand out in distinctive contrast. Further up the lake the
arrangement of the mountains and valleys is that already described from
the steamer: reference to the two accompanying photographs, which are
taken hereabouts, will afford a better idea of the scene than any amount
of verbal description. It is well to continue our walk as far as the
little village of Patterdale, for every step is a delight, and variety
of scenic effect nullifies the distance marvellously. A glance into the
quaint little church is well worth while, and then we follow the main
road along through Glenridding village to Stybarrow Crag, a jutting
promontory beneath which the road has barely room to wind because of the
nearness of the lake. It was at this narrow pass that the dalesmen once
made a successful stand against a band of Scottish Mosstroopers.
Nowadays, it witnesses nothing more stirring than parties of picnickers
and it must be admitted that it is an ideal place for the purpose.
Helvellyn, the second highest mountain in England, affords a grand
scramble from Glenridding or Patterdale. Although its ascent involves no
hand to hand climbing, all true mountaineers must enjoy the
[Illustration: Stybarrow Crag
And Ullswater, with Gowbarrow Fell in the background.]
[Illustration: Striding Edge, Helvellyn
On the right is Red Tarn, and above it Swirrel Edge, the highest point
seen being the top of Helvellyn.]
fine walk along the twin edges, Striding Edge and Swirrel Edge, between
which lies the wild mountain lakelet, Red Tarn. Much has been written
about the terrors of Striding Edge and I have met nervous people who
have been vastly pleased with themselves for having crossed it in
safety. In reality it is merely a rough traverse of a rocky ridge along
which, be it spoken low, a path runs! The central position of Helvellyn
and its great height render the view from its top one of the finest in
Lakeland. The prospect Eastward over the twin edges, with Ullswater
beyond, and away on the far horizon the Pennines, dominated by Cross
Fell, vies in interest and beauty with that in the opposite direction
where all the chief lakeland heights, from Coniston Old Man to Scawfell
and Skiddaw, show to great advantage.
Ullswater has its chief communication with the southern Lakeland over
Kirkstone Pass, a high mountain coach road crowned at the top by the
inevitable “highest house in England.” I wonder how many there are
altogether. About a couple of miles beyond the head of Ullswater the
road skirts the minor lake, Brother’s Water, and almost immediately
afterwards climbs the steep gradient between Red Screes and Caudale
Moor. A large block of stone,
“Whose churchlike frame
Gives to the savage pass its name,”
stands on the slope of Red Screes near the top of the pass. This is the
Kirk Stone. The road forks beyond the “Travellers Rest”--the highest
house. The descent to Ambleside by the right-hand road is short, but
appallingly steep. When taken in the opposite direction six horses are
necessary to haul up a large char-a-banc and even then it well deserves
its local name, “the struggle.”
The other road diverges to the left and runs down through the beautiful
Troutbeck Valley, a distance of seven miles, to Windermere. It was in
the little village of Troutbeck that the uncle of William Hogarth, the
most truly English of all our great painters, lived. The genius of the
uncle, “Auld Hoggart,” as he was locally called by his fellow yeomen,
evidenced itself in a wonderful facility for composing rhymes, short
dramas in verse and cynical epitaphs. Particularly satirical is the
following, and typical of much that he wrote
“Here lies a woman, no man can deny it,
She died in peace, although she lived unquiet.
Her husband prays if e’er this way you walk,
You would tread softly--if she wakes, she’ll talk.”
[Illustration: The Kirkstone Pass
And Brothers’ Water, with Place Fell behind.]