Here, too, the Bards,
"Rob'd in their flowing vests of innocent white,
Descend, with harps, that glitter to the moon,
Hymning immortal strains. The spirits of air,
Of earth, of water, nay of heav'n itself,
Do listen to their lay; and oft, 'tis said,
In visible shapes, dance they a magic round
To the high minstrelsy."
As we descended the steep mountain to Keswick, the romantic fells round
the lake opened finely, but the lake itself was concealed, deep in
its rocky cauldron. We saw them under the last glow of sun-set, the
upward rays producing a misty purple glory between the dark tops of
Cawsey-pikes and the bending peaks of Thornthwaite fells. Soon after,
the sun having set to the vale of Keswick, there appeared, beyond
breaks in its western mountains, the rocks of other vallies, still
lighted up by a purple gleam, and receiving strong rays on shaggy
points, to which their recesses gave soft and shadowy contrast. But the
magical effect of these sunshine rocks, opposed to the darkness of the
nearer valley, can scarcely be imagined.
Still as we descended, the lake of Derwentwater was screened from our
view; but the rich level of three miles wide, that spreads between it
and Bassenthwaite-water in the same vale, lay, like a map, beneath
us, chequered with groves and cottages, with enclosures of corn and
meadows, and adorned by the pretty village of Crossthwaite, its
neat white church conspicuous among trees. The fantastic fells of
Derwentwater bordered this reposing landscape, on the west, and the
mighty Skiddaw rose over it, on the east, concealing the lake of
Bassenthwaite.
The hollow dashings of the Greta, in its rocky channel, at the foot of
Skiddaw, and in one of the most wizard little glens that nature ever
fancied, were heard long before we looked down its steep woody bank,
and saw it winding away, from close inaccessible chasms, to the vale of
Keswick, corn and meadows spread at the top of the left bank, and the
crags of Skiddaw scowling over it, on the right.
At length, we had a glimpse of the north end of Derwentwater, and soon
after entered Keswick, a small place of stone houses, lying at the foot
of Castle Rigg, near Skiddaw, and about a quarter of a mile from the
lake, which, however, is not seen from the town.
We were impatient to view this celebrated lake, and immediately walked
down to Crow-park, a green eminence at its northern end, whence it
is generally allowed to appear to great advantage. Expectation had
been raised too high: Shall we own our disappointment? Prepared for
something more than we had already seen, by what has been so eloquently
said of it, by the view of its vast neighbourhood and the grandeur of
its approach, the lake itself looked insignificant; and, however rude,
or awful, its nearer rocks might have appeared, if seen unexpectedly,
they were not in general so vast, or so boldly outlined, as to retain a
character of sublimity from comparison. Opposed to the simple majesty
of Ullswater, the lake of Derwent was scarcely interesting. Something
must, indeed, be attributed to the force of first impressions; but
with all allowance for this, Ullswater must still retain an high
pre-eminence for grandeur and sublimity.
Derwentwater, however, when more minutely viewed, has peculiar charms
both from beauty and wildness, and as the emotions, excited by
disappointed expectation, began to subside, we became sensible of
them. It seems to be nearly of a round form, and the whole is seen
at one glance, expanding within an amphitheatre of mountains, rocky,
but not vast, broken into many fantastic shapes, peaked, splintered,
impending, sometimes pyramidal, opening by narrow vallies to the view
of rocks, that rise immediately beyond and are again overlooked by
others. The precipices seldom overshoot the water, but are arranged
at some distance, and the shores swell with woody eminences, or sink
into green, pastoral margins. Masses of wood also frequently appear
among the cliffs, feathering them to their summits, and a white cottage
sometimes peeps from out their skirts, seated on the smooth knoll of a
pasture, projecting to the lake, and looks so exquisitely picturesque,
as to seem placed there purposely to adorn it. The lake in return
faithfully reflects the whole picture, and so even and brilliantly
translucent is its surface, that it rather heightens, than obscures
the colouring. Its mild bosom is spotted by four small islands, of
which those called Lords' and St. Herbert's are well wooded, and adorn
the scene, but another is deformed by buildings, stuck over it, like
figures upon a twelfth-cake.
Beyond the head of the lake, and at a direct distance of three or
four miles from Crow-park, the pass of Borrowdale opens, guarded by
two piles of rock, the boldest in the scene, overlooked by many rocky
points, and, beyond all, by rude mountain tops which come partially
and in glimpses to the view. Among the most striking features of the
eastern shore are the woody cliffs of Lowdore; then, nearer to the
eye, Wallow-crags, a title used here as well as at Hawswater, of dark
brown rock, loosely impending; nearer still, Castle-hill, pyramidal
and richly wooded to its point, the most luxuriant feature of the
landscape. Cawsey-pike, one of the most remarkable rocks of the western
shore, has its ridge scolloped into points as if with a row of corbells.
The cultivated vale of Newland slopes upward from the lake between
these and Thornthwaite fells. Northward, beyond Crow-park, rises
Skiddaw; at its base commences the beautiful level, that spreads
to Bassenthwaite-water, where the rocks in the west side of the
perspective soon begin to soften, and the vale becomes open and
cheerful.
Such is the outline of Derwentwater, which has a much greater
proportion of beauty, than Ullswater, but neither its dignity, nor
grandeur. Its fells, broken into smaller masses, do not swell, or
start, into such bold lines as those of Ullswater; nor does the size
of the lake accord with the general importance of the rocky vale, in
which it lies. The water is too small for its accompaniments; and
its form, being round and seen entirely at once, leaves nothing for
expectation to pursue, beyond the stretching promontory, or fancy to
transform within the gloom and obscurity of the receding fell; and
thus it loses an ample source of the sublime. The greatest breadth
from east to west is not more than three miles. It is not large enough
to occupy the eye, and it is not so hidden as to have the assistance
of the imagination in making it appear large. The beauty of its banks
also, contending with the wildness of its rocks, gives opposite
impressions to the mind, and the force of each is, perhaps, destroyed
by the admission of the other. Sublimity can scarcely exist, without
simplicity; and even grandeur loses much of its elevating effect,
when united with a considerable portion of beauty; then descending to
become magnificence. The effect of simplicity in assisting that high
tone of mind, produced by the sublime, is demonstrated by the scenery
of Ullswater, where very seldom a discordant object obtrudes over the
course of thought, and jars upon the feelings.
But it is much pleasanter to admire than to examine, and in
Derwentwater is abundant subject for admiration, though not of so high
a character as that, which attends Ullswater. The soft undulations
of its shores, the mingled wood and pasture, that paint them, the
brilliant purity of the water, that gives back every landscape on its
bank, and frequently with heightened colouring, the fantastic wildness
of the rocks and the magnificence of the amphitheatre they form; these
are circumstances, the view of which excites emotions of sweet, though
tranquil admiration, softening the mind to tenderness, rather than
elevating it to sublimity. We first saw the whole beneath such sober
hues as prevailed when
"the gray hooded Even,
Like a sad votarist, in Palmer's weed,
Rose from the hindmost wheels of Phœbus' wain."
The wildness, seclusion, and magical beauty of this vale, seem, indeed,
to render it the very abode for Milton's Comus, "deep skilled in all
his mother's witcheries;" and, while we survey its fantastic features,
we are almost tempted to suppose, that he has hurled his
"dazzling spells into the air,
Of power to cheat the eye with blear illusion
And give it false presentments,"