The Old Mill, Ambleside
which it would be tedious to enquire led to the warm winds and waters of the Gulf Stream being cut off from the district. The atmosphere became intensely cold. Instead of warm rain as heretofore, snow fell. This heaped up thicker and thicker until it compressed into ice which, in the form of glaciers, began to slide down the valleys previously hollowed out by the streams. The great Glacial Period set in. The glaciers tore up stones, earth and rocks and carried them along in their course. These great file-like masses of rock-embedded ice scooped out huge hollows in the river beds beneath.
Then the Gulf Stream again brought its benignant influence to bear upon the district. Warmth came and rain fell again. The glaciers began slowly to melt and disappear: the rivers resumed their normal flow. At once the great hollows were filled with water and it was these water-filled hollows which first constituted our lakes. Since that time the lakes have in many cases been altered in shape. For instance, Derwentwater and Bassenthwaite were in times past one lake, but the débris brought down and deposited by the river Greta has divided it into the two beautiful sheets of water with which we are now familiar. Incidentally, the glaciers had a great influence upon the shape and contours of our mountains, rounding, polishing and smoothing them into their present forms.
Such is a very incomplete resumé of the happenings of by-gone æons which have given to us our lovely district.
It would be pleasing could we follow its history with such certainty, but this is where Lakeland falls short. Of legend, folklore and historic records it possesses comparatively little. In early times this wildly secluded corner of England was given over for the most part to swamps, wild beasts and dense forest. Its earliest inhabitants were the Brigantes, one of the tribes of aboriginal Britons. Tacitus mentions them in a half-hearted uncertain manner and their dealings with the Romans, but as to the extent to which they occupied the district, or in what numbers, is not known. Several of the local names of villages and mountains were given by them, and these place-names, together with some few relics, are the strongest confirmation we have of the existence here of these early Britons.
The Romans who followed after them left numerous proofs of their occupation—bridges, roads, stations and various articles of household use. What the Romans did in Lakeland is not clear. Perchance they were enticed here by the suspected mineral wealth of the mountains, or were engaged in subduing the savage Brigantes. Perhaps, being cultivated people, they rowed about on Windermere, held pic-nics on Belle Isle or lazed about the countryside admiring the beauties of nature! All this is the merest conjecture.
After the Romans had left Britain, and the Danes and Saxons had usurped the rest of England, the Lake District was probably held by the Lakeland Britons as one of their last strongholds and places of refuge. The tourist passing over Dunmail Raise—the high pass between Grasmere and Thirlmere—is shown to this day the heap of stones marking the grave of Dunmail, the last of the Cumbrian Kings. Near here, in the year 945, he and his gallant band gave battle to the Saxon King Edmund. Dunmail held the high ground for some considerable time, fighting valiantly until he was treacherously attacked in the rear and ultimately cut down. Thus disappeared the Britons from Lakeland. So goes the story, and the heap of stones on Dunmail Raise certainly gives local confirmation. It is said, also, that Dunmail’s crown was sunk in Grisedale Tarn, but here corroborative evidence is lacking for it has not yet been recovered.
Under the Heptarchy, Cumberland and Westmoreland no doubt witnessed their share of border warfare, but at this time, and for long after the Norman Conquest, the Lake District itself appears to have