The times. [volume] (Richmond, Va.) 1890-1903, 1894-01-07

Cumberland and Westmoreland, fair as
dream OF beauty and rcpose. lie the vale
the lake. and the hamlet of Grasmere.
Towards the north trails the ever-as
cending highway 10 Dunmail Raise, wher,
more than a thousand years ago the frs
Edward crushed the kingdom OF North
unbria, and buried the slaughtered mon
arch, Dunnail. beneath the cairn or Raise
OF pebbles which stands as he left II 10
this day; while the Striding Edge OF lord
~ Helvellyn rises dark and fierce beyond.
To the west wind, the lofty, serratcd
edges OF Steel Fell and Helm Crag like
hslf-ruined mighty castle walls, with the
black. cone-like Langdale Pixies behind
and shutting in this vale Of peace in the
east are the heights of Seat Sandal, Fair
field. and Nab Scar The lake OF Gras-
mere blue and deep, and still, and
specked by one emerald islet, rests rip
pleless and shadowless between.
Where its dreamful waters curve 10 the
south towards shimmering Rydal Water
and Royal Windermere. " the hamlet
side OF the lake round. high half-moun-
tan-which the peasants call "the holt
provincial. dialect for the peaked hiu"-
juts out boldly from Nab Scar. 1T ia
forest crowned and dark with centuries
old trees. The coach road now winds
around and below It beside the lake. The
ancient highway to rose-embowered Am
beside, which once with Umbrian stub
bornness pushed straight across the height.
IS still worn bare. brown and smooth by
valley folk in haste by Cupid-teased
swans and blushing lasses, by wander
Ing artists and poets seeking the haunts
OF Wordsworth, SoIthey and Coleridge.
fhnca fctc 20
lands who ever loved enough TO love 20
dream again beside a halowed shrine Of
love.
Just there at the top OF the bin where
silence is soundlcss, where the trees inter-
lace above the old highway like the mas
sive arches Cf some splendid cathedral
nave, the sunshine floods In as through
an oriel window, through which again,
across meadow. mere, valley and noun
tain sides, I'm uttermost longings with the |
tenderest visions Of human eyes, the very |
peaks OF heaven through centuries have |
been seen. For there, famous in legend, |
romance, and song, stands England's ten |
derest OF all love shrines, the ancient UNI |
brian Wishng-Gate.
At noontide OF an August day next be- |
fore the day OF its patron saint, Gras- |
mere hamlet lay snug and sunny at the |
head of the mere beside it's most venera- |
ST. Oswald's. This good saints festal day |
falls on the fifth OF August. Almost from |
the dawn Of Christianity in Britain, 1t has |
been celebrated at Grasmere on the Sat /
urday nearest st. Oswalds-Day, by that |
elsewhere nearly obsolete ceremony, treas |
ured by Umbrian folk with something |
akin to fierce affection from even pagan
times of rushbearing, or strewing their |
sacred temples with rushes and with flow
ers.
This MONDAY the ancient village seemed |
half waking from centuries of
feposc. The tiny church windows stood
open. There were wieaths upon the graves |
Of Wordsworth and Hartley Coleridge. A
" hite~haired sexton, a beautiful young wo-
man and a stalwart young man were lean
Ing over the chuIch-yerd wall, as IL lis
tening to the melodies of the Rothay |
stream below. a few mountain carts |
stood at the doors of white cottages laden
with green rushes, "sieves' the peasants |
calls them. gathered from the breezy up.
land fells. "vagrom' crew with carts |
and vans had halted at the village edge |
and were whummeling their carts, tether- |
Ing their cattle, turning loose their frowsy !
children, and disposing the ragged ends
Of Punch and Judy booth and patched /
and splinted merIy-go-' round. Sweet
slaves OF hymns TO st. oswald, OF rush
we're waited from unseen places. The
little inns were being lazily put to rights
from some far and smothered retreat |
loated understandable notes OF the vii
age bend tuning anew the martial strains
" Jenny Dawson's Rushbearing March.
Which In olden days leaped from the
trlngs OF Jenny Dawson's fiddle: and
ull In the drowsy sunlight, on the old inn
orch, where Southey. Wordsworth, Coler-
Ia
wing converse, the whitc-haired ravens
the ancient hamlet sat and sagely cawed
nd croaked !
These were Christopher. or Cursty Har- /
h. Jenny Railton, Willy Benn, and Tom |
W Bamthet: all serving men TO the West {
ioreland county gentry in their time,
nd now patriarchsl Grasmere cotters c
no met at each others ingle-ncuks. at d
~ public house, or wherever the sun of \
laee hospitality or OF heaven shone I
armest. there 10 plant upon the fashless 9
resent times or TO purr and Groom over $
e brave and Draw old days that were. a
Cursty Harris had just joined his com q
Unions. He sat down petulantly at the n
"a or the stone bench His shaggy brows
IRE drawn tightly; and his lips were o.
pursed; the corners OF the .
der lip being strained by some unusual >,
ner emotion almost TO the bottom OF g.
CUM lbs Oiu Knew TINS WAS |
omen. and they kept silence =,
r q time. interchanging sly nudges OF :,
ite and expectant prophecy. Soon Willy =,
nm said softly. ~
'Th aud toun is toonin' up bit?" 20
oh. aye; tn mornins rushbearin':" "a
injured Johnny Ieailton. ~
An ST. Oaswulds Meet" piped Tommy n,
mthet. with wink at Jem and viii. a.
boyle meet on III holt by the Wush'n n,
at Nhae'll master Cursty Harris
n { lay IN ghaist tn morrer neet?" IN
Nabuddyi" retorted Cursty so saw ~
Ny that his three cronies gave three
lden starts and uttered three "I.ans-a- T.,
rciesr' together. CO
Nabuddy?' he repeated with yehe- gr
nee. ma mair O tn Wush'n Geat hil
lie for Cursty Harris What's want ee
ath l kna nit; but I'll clap ees ma ga
ir on ghaists / this leef. IL l can hoIp az
very one In the lovely valley know Jol
the boyle. ghost or spirit. OF tho go'
sbins Gate. II had appeared every vi
hbearing-night for a quarter OF q
fury. The apparition was thai Of DE
|te-haired. white-bearded old man cor
tasticaily gsrianded with PUSHES and IN
Fers. 1t appeared beside the Wishing ees
= precisely At midnight. and stood for n't
lfus time ~ u waiting for some one s 81