The morning call. [volume] (San Francisco [Calif.]) 1878-1895, 1891-05-17
BEAUTIES OF THE
LAKE REGION
One Of The QlaintGSt and Sweetest
Nests in Old England.
a Sublime spectaels-The Dales and Glens
Which Wordsworth Loved and Haunted.
Ranges of Lake Mountains
Special to THE SUNDAY CALL

De no gUlQe 10 q lover OF nature DuJ LnaI
love Itself" No pen-painter who has ever
lived OF will ever live has limned or can
ever depict in page or a book the beauties
Of the English lake region. There never
has been printed an adequate guide; and
even were the best one that could be made
provided the traveller who comes here to see
with eyes and heart would suffer greater
from its insuffcency than find delight in its
expeditions This is true because In the
FIRST place no one with pen or brush can
produce on a single page or canvas a single
picture comprising manifold expression.
1t would be a human imposSiblity to COM
prehend in any series of descriptions or
paintings the myriad Of distinct and glowing
scenes which the region furnishes; and
even could this be done. then there would
still be lacking all those glorious prOmptngs
to emotional enjoyment from associative in
terest, which the beholder of the actual
scene can never have interpreted by an
other.
Take simply the few miles. perhaps nine,
from Bowness north through Wfndermere,
Ambleside and Rydal to Grasmere, to Illus
trate the superhuman task you would have
In attempting to convey TO another what one
sees, recalls ami feels throughout the entire
lake region. You could make great vol
ume full Of glorious paintings, winsOme de-
scriptions, exquisite incidents, memories al
most as comprehensive as the wide domain
of English literature, and sweet with tender
DhilOsophizings and then but have barely
limited at the majestic book of nature and
Renaissance which lies open for the enjoy
ment of all who come, The village of Bow
ness IS one Of the Quaintest and sweetest
old nests in England. 1t is a dreamlul maze
Of inextricable streets whose houses are
wholly covered with roses and ivy. The
east window Of its squarc-t0wered little
church is one of the Oldest in England. hay
Ing been taken from that once most magnif-
icent Of all OF England's ancient mOHastic
edi6ces, Furness Abbey The place is hid
den beneath gigantic trees on the eastern
shore OF the queen OF the English lakes,
Windermere.
Climb Brant Fell behind it. The lake,
Immediately beneath TO the west, stretching
away from the lower FuTnesS Fells in Lam
casaiTe, 10 AmblesIde IN WeStmoTeland,
forms a liquid valley OF blue, set with num-
beTieSs emerald lslets, its mountain shores
merging iatO purple depths at the far north,
where grim HrVelIyn lifts its curved crest
beyond the sublime isolation Of mighty
Helm CTag. The ocean blue of
Morecambe Bay glints beyond the puce
sands of Lancaster to the south. Es-
thwait and COnistOn Water glimmer among
the western feIis, and Hard Knot and
COnistOn Old Man form mighty sentinels
in the background in the direction Of the
Irish Sea. 1t was a sublime spectacle.
But along with il is the ever welcome ee-
ment II soft and tender beauty. The
lower masses of larch nearest the waters
edge are Ike gigantic pillows Of emerald.
These merge in graceful lines inlO the
more somber fir, which, bank on bank
and wave on wave above roll upward in
noble undulat.OnS, often to the very crestS
OF lofty mountains; while ha1f-SeeD cot
tages peeplng from mOuntain-sides, gray
old chapels nesting in patches Of sunlight,
splendid halls ami maDOT-hOuseS peTched
upon lower prOmOntOTleS, and countless
plPasuTe-CTaft speaking the fair waters of
NmdermeTe, add TO the eXultatiOn of an eX-
altIug solitude that happy consciousness Of
certain, If isolate. ncarneSS to man. But
whose pen can adequately tell the calm
which peTvados these wOndrOus scenes? If
silence can take on peTsOnjhcation of
VaStuess and majesty, you viii be con-
selous Of all that here. 1t has such
intensity that one feels sense Of
existing in some upper world from
whose face and armament sound has
been banlshed. And it Is SO impressive and
palp3ble that al times all objects seem but
the Imagery Of reality; I'll moving things as
the unreal mimlcTy Of. dreams; all persons
but the shades of men.
Feast as you may at natures lavish board,
the uudertOneS are ever heard. Over yOn-
der by COnistOn Water, gray and scowling
John kussiD, prisoner in his own home,
lovely Brentwood, presses his pale face
against the window pantS and staTeS with
strangely lighted eyes at the wondrous
world without tut knows 1t not, for mad
phantasms possess his daTkened mind
You can see a hundred dales and glens
which Wordsworth loved and haunted
Near Brentwood is Tent Lodge, where
Lord IennysOn once lived, dreamed and
wrote. Near, gentle Gerald Massey
WOOed those penSiYe spirits with whom he
so wholly lived, add in whose actual though
imDalDRble presence lie so undeniabiy be-
lieVed. Then a sturdier lot appear Just be-
low BOwneSs. 10 the left, StOTrs Hall is seen.
1t was here that in 1925 such giants as the
statesman Canning, the philosopher, nov
elist and poet, christopher North" PRO
lessor WILSON,. the laureate of England and
bard Of the lakes, Wordsworth, and Scot
lands greatest rOmancer, Sir Waiter Scott,
met and held high mental carnival, while
dispOrting like a beYy of schOol-b0vs, and
terminated the illuStrious occasion by a
brilliant regatta on Windermere in charge
Of Wilson as Admiral of tile Lakes" 1t
would have been worth year of ordinary
Mandy pamby life to have sat silent among
them and listened during those rare and
radiant days.
WindeTmere, but continuation Of Bow
ness, is modern. The London and North
western Railway penetrateS to this point.
In the place Of BOwnesS, which is now left
dreamful quiet it has become the southern
metropolis of the region; just as KeSWick
to which you can come by rail from the
northeast is the northern metropolis The
situation OF Windermere is entranc-
ing. 1t Is stately in splendid inns
and surrounding country seats, similar
to the grand mansions along the
Hudson. The place with its modern sug-
geStlOns and countless arriving and depart
ing eOaeh-lOads of tourists sinks out Of
ira uvba
you have climbed to the summit Of 0rrest
Head, where the prospect is still grander
than that from Brant Fell, behind B0wness;
for you are nearer the head Of the vale Of
WiDdermere, where the encroaching noun
tain walls are highest and the noble lake
Itself makes the broadcast eXpanses.
But near as this is to the steam-whiStie
and cOach-hOTn, the undert0nes are even
here. From Orrest Head, the haunts of
every poet or prose writer of the region save
those OF Coleridge and Shelley about Kes-
wick, are again visible. Windermere with
its glorious foreground of foliage, is seen in
It's entire length. Range after range of
laEe mountains rise beyond 1t to the west.
The valley OF Ambleside lays like half
Defined glen OF purple to the north. darken-
ing at its edges, changing TO liyid green
along the higher ranges. the crags of Helm,
Fairfield and Nab Scar forming great
peaks of sun-kissed sDlendOr above.
mass of mountain tops and misty
passes lie toward Ullswater in the
northeast Along the ridges, toward
the Yorkshire moOrs, one purple furrow
shows where was laid the plot of Robert
Elsmere," in LOngsleddale. Besides, here
are the woods and waters Of Elleray. No
Cumbrlan home ever held bigger frame, a
greater heart OF loftier or tenderer soul
than the mansion of Elleray. The place is
now just as IT was when IL was "ChrstO-
pher NOTth's" earthly paradise, with sew
eEal roofs shelving away there In the luster
OF loveliest lichens. each roof with its own
assortment Of doves and pigeons preening
their pinions in the morning pleasaunce";
Wilson himself said, mot even in the DAYS
of the Druids could there have been such