The record-union., 1891-05-23
The Glorious Stage Ride from
Keswick to Windermere.
Over the Great Nights of Castle Rigg
and DunmaiI se-Wordswortl's
and CoIeridge's Daily Meeting
Ground-The Valley of Rothay.
Especial Correspondence of the RECORD
UNION. Copyright. 1S91.l

rail at its southern headquarters, Win
dermere, by coach north through the
heart of the region to Keswick, or on ar
rival by rail at Keswick, over the same
grand highway by coach south to Win
dermere. Thus tourists, and particularly
American tourists, who wish to make the
best use Of their hours, are enabled to Sc
cure a very good general idea of the dis
trict, and certainly look upon that por-
ton richest in associative interest-while
viewing its finest lakes, loveliest wales
and Hottest mountains-by an eXpendi-
ture Of but one days time. An old tray
eler's word for it, seldom in lifetime
can day be SO eXaltingly filed.
At Keswick or Windermere you have
daily the choice Of a score of four-in- hand
coaches. Some are of the old English and
Concord patterns. but most are built high
in air, open, seating at least twenty fares;
are wonderfully constructed for strength
and lightness; give q delightful sense of
breezy altitude to passengers, and furnish
in their cavernous bodies vast store
room for parcels and baggage. Most of
these coaches are provided with guards
with musical horns and rosy noses, with
1aciturn drivers, who lOiter about the sta
bles of the nobility in winter, and exist in
q defiant attitude of protest against queS-
tons in summer, and with the handsom-
est coach-houSeS to be found in all Eng
land. You can leave Windermere or Kes-
wick, in either direction, at any hour of
the day between Z and 2, and the ride of
twenty-one miles, through several of the
deepest valleys and over two of the high
est passes of the region, is usually accom-
plished in about five hours.
You are at Keswick. If you have
"booked'' at least three days in advance,
have paid for two fares beside your own,
and have privately consulted with sti-
pendary notifications the driver and
guard as to the most favorable measures
Tor viewing the region, you can secure
your seat on the box OF the most popular
"going out' coach, at nine in the morn
ing, the envy and glares of the remainder
of the fares" whom you find represent
almost every civilized nationality, Amer
leans and Germans predominating. If
you ask questions you viii also secure
the largest number of "out-and-outers, :"
with which your credence was ever as
sailed. Your own knowledge Of the lit
erature and topography Of the Lake re-
gion is your sole amulet against these.
But your coach is away with all the
shouting, rattle and footing necessary to
remind you that at last you are the proud
poSSeSSOr, with It's other mOnarchS, the
guard and the driver, Of the box of gen
uine British institution. The gentle
thrill which accompanies this reflection
has barely subsidized when you have
passed beautiful Greta Bridge, and with
g sudden turn to the right begin the long
ascent of Castle Rigg-''the most windin'
one for losses % the stretch, +" the driver
remarks in the single truthful statement
you Will receive all the way to Winder-
mere.
But in this long, slow climb you pass
Chestnut Hill, quaint little, crooked
roof house, with its historic sycamore,
elm and cherry-tree, where Shelly
brought his schoolgirl bride and where
they chased each other like happy chill
dren about the flower-beds, until the
stern Cumbrian landlord chased them
both away. AS the coach is halted at the
top of Castle Rigg, 600 feet above Kes-
wick, grand and beautiful indeed is that
scene behind. The entire vale of Der
went is spread to view. Keswick gray
and snug is half hidden in its bosom. To
the west CLEANS the upper reaches of Der
wentwater with the crags of Grassmoor
beyond. Saddlerock looms in the north
east. Beyond the tower of old Cross
thwaite church, where Southey lies bur
led, shines the blue bed of Bassenthwaite
Water. And across the whole lovely
vale where the farms spread in checkered
patches of color TO the sun, lofty Skid
brian North.
This dragging way over Castle Rigg is
one OF the two great nights you viii at
tain by coach on your pleasant journey.
The other is at Dunmail Raise, Just be-
fore you pass into Westmoreland. You
are in Cumberland now. This was the
Little Britain of long ago. 1t was the
home Of those fierce and uncomfortable
Brigantes who, from the time the region
was known as Brigantia until it became
Cumberland, beat back the Saxons from
the east, the Welsh from the south and
Picts from the north, and met every foe
outside their mountain gates. Marvel
ously sweet and fragrant is the morning
as you now smoothly spin along these
noble nights. But it seem to have
scarcely reached the deepest wales. To
your right, the west-tor your direction is
nearly always due south from keswick to
Windermere-are the seeming endless
1ells, odorous with the budding heath. and
here and there mass of color from banks
of violets, the gentle breeze stirring the
whole fell-side as if with wild and riotous
motion and delight. In front, the wide,
smooth mountain road winds between
overhanging lichened rocks, spans shad-
owy dingles, and at its apparent end
seems to drop sheer into a measureless
sea of blue. But now to the left down,
down, rs If into some vast witch-cauldrOn
the sight descends, and attempts to pene-
trate the films of mist. Morning is late
in reaching st. Johns Vale. Dense and
dark in the vale's lowest depths, the mist
breaks above in feathery riffs where the
rays of the eastern sun filter through in
flmy streams of gold. Half disclosed be-
hind them are the dark gray outlines of
the mighty crag, Castle Re ok. You can
not see it clearly; but Scot has so nobly
described it in THE Bridal OF Trier-
MAN," with its
Wicket Of oak. as iron hard
With iron studded, clenched and barred,
And prong'd portcullis, joind to guard
The gloomy pass below
that you need no better view.
Above this, almost on a level with your
coach, which is just beginning the long
southern descent of Castle Rigg. lies .
huge moving cloud. 1t is slowly passing
down the valley. Suddenly you realize
you are above the clouds, for "See the
Stri0lng EdgeW is chorused by many OF
your companions. There it lies. this
grim, yeliowy- black and curved ridge OF
Helvellyn. majestic monarch of all this
grand lake region. 1t seems across that
cloud 10 be the mighty mural walls OF
some weird isle, unattainable beyond a
sea Of mountainous waves. A curve in
the road for few moments hides cloud
aud mountain-top. When Helyellyn again
appears, the cloud has been lost i'm and
over the Vale of St John, and there stands
The grand old mountain. forest hung at its
base, cleft and SCARED above, still higher
striped her,and there with flr-descending
torrents, like mighty plumes in white,
and its broken summit and "Striding
Edge" showing thousands Of blackened
almost vertical burrows in the eternal stone
of its peaks and ridges.
But you now have something TO do be-
sides gaze on Helvellyn Your coach is
descending the mountain at tremendous
speed. The wheel horses are at their best
pace, in q trot, and the leaders are fairly
at canter. The shids smoke at the wheels.
Many God bless met'' is calculated