The vale of Lyvennet

by John Salkeld Bland

No memoir of Thomas Bland would be complete without some account of the wonderful garden that he planned and made. John Bland has preserved one view of it in its old splendour; it is reproduced at the end of this book. The wall on the right of the entrance was known as "The Local Gallery," as paintings of local scenes, Shap Abbey, Lowther, Brougham and others, were mounted in alcoves there. Beyond, near the angle of the wall, was the "Shakespeare Gallery." Facing the entrance stands Sir Walter Scott; below three bas-reliefs, that on the right of the spectator representing Rob Roy, that in the middle Bois-Guilbert fighting on horseback, striking Athelstan down; the third, Prince Charlie.

On the left of the entrance is a terrace with a statue of Music, holding a lute, emblematic of the Lyvennet; there are also statues of Addison, Burns, and Hugh Miller the geologist; for Thomas Bland, like his nephew, was interested in geology. This terrace stretches away to the left; against it, and facing the lower lawns beyond was a building for the musicians. The whole garden was lavishly decorated with paintings and sculptures; the last of the former were removed from the walls about three years ago. It seems almost incredible that one man should have accomplished so much work; but he had a marvellous facility for rapid work and simple execution. He could finish his work very finely, but seldom did so.

A description of the gardens, and the statues in particular is contained in Anthony Whitehead's Westmorland Legends and other Poems. It would have been pleasant to say something of Mr. Whitehead, whose memories are so closely connected with the work of the Blands; but it is a delicate matter to write of a man in his lifetime; and he is still living, and bearing his ninety-one years very lightly. Two of his stanzas are quoted in this book, to illustrate the tale of Crosby Hall.

Thomas Bland worked at art for its own sake, cared nothing for fame, and would have hated notoriety. He had at least one excellent chance of becoming known to London art circles, for David Cox (the younger), who had seen some of his drawings, was interested, and wished to introduce him to his friends. He gave Mr. Bland several of his own water-colour paintings, and some correspondence passed between them; but the introduction fell through. He had, of course, many visitors, some of whom came to see him only from idle curiosity. These he could not endure. For their benefit he had a large oleograph of Garibaldi set up in his studio. If they fell into the trap, and admired it, they were summarily dealt with, for he could be brusque to those whom he did not care about. The Garden Beautiful was free to all; but he would not sacrifice time or convenience to a bore—least of all, an admiring bore.

There is one story told of a trick which was played upon him: about 1855 he went to Kendal to hear a lecture on electricity. He was sceptical of the marvellous powers claimed for it, and refused to believe that it would be impossible for him to let go the handles of the battery when the current was turned on. Having the courage of his disbelief, he went upon the platform to try, and unsuspectingly put his top hat between his knees. Then the operator turned the current on strong, and it was only after that top hat was fairly flattened in his struggles that he was released, amid the roars of the audience; whereupon he fled from the room and back to Reagill, a wiser man—with a ruined hat.

He seems to have been credited with a certain amount of eccentricity, though this may have been due to a commonplace reading of unusual gifts and vigorous originality; but it is certainly the case that he was highly esteemed as a man of warm heart and kindly disposition, which attracted all with whom he came in contact; and in his own neighbourhood his death was greatly deplored. He died on September 18th, 1865, in his sixty-seventh year, unmarried.

But John Bland's work, good as it is, has an additional value, because there was at the time no systematic effort in this field of research. The Cumberland and Westmorland Antiquarian Society held its inaugural meeting on September 11th, 1866, only four months before he died, and for some six years not much was done. Thus he was the first to plan the important stone circle at Gunnerskeld. This, like its neighbour at Oddendale, belongs to a class, rare in Britain, which consists of concentric rings of stone. Mr. C. W. Dymond, F.S.A., in publishing a plan of Gunnerskeld circle, says:—"So far as my researches have extended, no plan of this megalithic group has ever been published, nor, save in a local guide book, have I ever seen it mentioned." The book contains a drawing, a ground plan and a description of each of these remains.

But he never lapses into dulness. Indeed, he pokes quiet fun at the antiquary pure and simple. Certain earthworks, he says, have been supposed by some antiquaries to be a maze; a dilemma in which antiquarians are sometimes found. Writing of Crosby Park, he has a gentle thrust at those who deal of venison and vert, and ancient deer parks and forests:—"These things," he says, "are past and gone, except to the dreaming poet and the prosing antiquary."

His sketches cover a wide range. He puts before us each object of which he writes; heraldry, old buildings, picturesque landscapes, down to the bracelets and rings found in Skellaw quarry. And each of these pictures is a work of art, for his was a genius that touches nothing it does not adorn. He had no mean imagination; there is a vivid picture of a man on horseback, rider and beast recoiling in terror before the vision of the Headless Horseman of Gaythorn Plains, which is galloping across their track in the moonlight. He has a humorous picture of a "Ghost seen by Bet Whistle"—a dead pollard tree, which makes a most menacing apparition, though probably the ingenuity of the artist has something to do with it. And over the first page, majestic in flight, soars the Roman eagle.