"Wooded Winandermere, the river-lake,"
is nearly twice the length of Coniston Water, but of little more than the same average width. Superficially it belongs to Westmoreland; the greater portion of the margin is, nevertheless, in Lancashire, without leaving which county the beauty of the English Zurich may be gathered perfectly.
The finest view of the lake, as a whole, is obtained near Ambleside, on the road through the valley of Troutbeck, where it is visible for nearly the whole extent, the islands seeming clustered in the middle. Yet nothing can be lovelier, as regards detail, than the views obtained by ascending from Newby Bridge, the point at which the Leven issues. The scenery commences long before the lake is actually reached, the river having a fall, in the short space of four miles, of no less than 105 feet, consequently flowing with great rapidity, and supplying a suitable introduction to the charms above its source. Newby Bridge deserves every word of the praise so often bestowed upon it. Lofty and wood-mantled hills enclose the valley on every side, and whichever way we turn the impression is one of Eden-like retirement. The pine-crowned summit of Finsthwaite, reached by a woodland path having its base near the river-side, commands a prospect of admirable variety, the lake extending in one direction, while on the other the eye ranges over Morecambe Bay. The water of Windermere is clear as crystal—so limpid that the bottom in the shallower parts shows quite plainly, the little fishes darting hither and thither over the pebbles. Taken in its entirety, Windermere is the deepest of the English lakes, excepting only Wastwater, the level of the surface being, in parts, upwards of 240 feet above the bed. The maximum depth of Wastwater is 270 feet. Whether, on quitting Newby Bridge, the onward course be made by boat, or, more wisely, on foot or by carriage, along the road upon the eastern margin of the lake, the prevailing character of the scenery, for a considerable distance, will be found to consist in consummate softness and a delicacy of finish that it may be permitted to call artistic.
NEAR THE COPPER MINES, CONISTON
Not until we reach the neighbourhood of Storrs Hall (half way to Ambleside), where Lancashire ends and Westmoreland begins, is there much for the artist. The scenery so far has been captivating, but never grand. Here, however, and of rarest hues, especially towards sunset, come in view the majestic Langdale Pikes, with mountains of every form, and Windermere proves itself the veritable "Gate Beautiful." Everywhere, upon the borders, oak and ash fling out their green boughs, seeking amiably others that spring from neighbours as earnest. Woodbine loves to mingle its fragrant coronals of pink, white, and amber with the foliage amid which the spirals "gently entwist;" and at all seasons there is the rich lustre of the peerless "ivy green." The largest of the Windermere islands (in the Lake District, as in the Bristol Channel, called "holms") has an area of thirty acres.
Esthwaite, the third and last of the trio of lakes claimed by Lancashire, is a quiet, unassuming water, so cheerful, withal, and so different in character from both Coniston and Windermere, that a day is well devoted to it. The length is not quite three miles; the width, at the broadest part, is about three furlongs; the best approach is by the ferry across Windermere, then ascending the mountain-path among trees, the lake presently appearing upon the left, silvery and unexpected, so suddenly does it come in view. Esthwaite, like the Duddon, has been immortalised by Wordsworth, who received his education at Hawkshead, the little town at the northern extremity. The outlet is by a stream called the Cunsey, which carries the overflow into Windermere.