We slept at the Ferry House, and the next morning recrossed the water, and proceeded along a road above the lake, but parallel with it, to the little village of Ambleside, which is one of the regular stations on the tour. The upper end of Winandermere became more majestic as we advanced, mountains of greater height and finer forms opened upon us. The borders of the lake were spotted with what the English, in opposition to our application of the word, call villas, for which it would be difficult to find a term,—single houses of the gentry, the casarias of the rich, which distinguish England so much from other countries, not only in its appearance, but in the very name of its society. A stronger contrast cannot well be imagined than that of a shore thus ornamented, and the wild mountains beyond;—yet wooded hills and crags rising one above the other, harmonized the whole into one accordant and lovely scene. Grand and awful I called these mountains yesterday: they are so, and yet the feeling which the whole scene produces is less that of awe than of delight. The lake and its green shores seem so made for summer and sunshine joyousness, that no fitter theatre could be devised for Venetian pageantry, with the Bucentaur and all its train of gondolas. I wished for Cleopatra's galley, or for the silken-sailed ships of the days of chivalry, with their blazonry, their crimson awnings, their serpent-shaped hulks, music at the prow, and masquers dancing on the deck.
Several carriages passed us, and when we reached Ambleside the inn was full, and they were obliged to lodge us in the village, so great is the concourse of visitors to these Lakes. Some of the old houses here, with their open balconies, resemble our cottages and posadas; but these vestiges of former times will not exist much longer. New houses are building, old ones modernized, and marks of the influx of money to be seen every where.
It was noon when we arrived, for the distance was not quite two leagues. Two smaller lakes were to be seen within a league of Ambleside, called Ryedale and Grasmere, and two waterfalls on the way. This was our afternoon's walk, and a more beautiful one perhaps is not to be found in the wide world. My own recollections are so inadequately represented by any form of words, that it is best to give up the attempt as hopeless. One of the waterfalls, however, is of so singular a character that it may be imagined from description. We were admitted into a little hut, and then beheld it from the window of a rude room, falling under a bridge, into a bason between rocks which were overhung with trees. Every thing is upon so small a scale, that the trick of surprise is not offensive, and the sort of frame through which it was seen, not dissuitable to the picture. On our way back we took shelter from a shower in a cottage, where the mistress was making oaten cakes, the bread of this province. The dough being laid on a round board, which was a little hollowed, she clapped it out with her hands till it covered the board; then slipt it off upon a round iron plate of the same size, which was placed over a wood fire; and when the cake was crisp on the one side, as it soon became, being very thin, she turned it. We tasted of this bread: it was dry, but not unpleasant. They who are accustomed to it like it well, and think it nutritious; but it is said to produce or aggravate cutaneous diseases.
*****
Sunday.
The English are not quite so mad in their own country as they are abroad; and yet follies enough are committed at home to show that travelling Englishmen are no unfaithful representatives of their countrymen. We had as singular an instance of their characteristic folly this morning as could be wished. D. and I were on our way to visit Coniston Lake, when, as we were ascending a hill, we saw an open carriage drawn by two horses coming down: the body of the carriage was placed upon the wheels with the back part forwards, and a gentleman was driving with his back to the horses, and never looking round. The hill was steep, and the road winding; he was going at no very safe pace; and if the horses had not been more cautious than their master, we might very probably have had an opportunity of seeing what it was in the inside of his head, which supplied the place of brains. Some wager must have been the occasion of this prank.
It was but a dreary road to Coniston, of two leagues,—neither were we well repaid when we got there by the sight of a lake extending into a tame country. Had we approached from the other end it would not perhaps have disappointed us, but we came from the mountains at its head, instead of advancing towards them. Slates of remarkable size are used for fences and in building about this neighbourhood. They are so high that I saw one row forming the whole front of a cottage, and in another place a house-porch was constructed of four, one on each side, and two leaning against each other for the roof. The quarry is among the mountains.
The language of the people here is almost unintelligible to me; it resembles Scotch more than English. D. is frequently at a loss to understand their meaning, though they seem to have no difficulty in understanding him.
*****
On Monday we left Ambleside, and toiled up Kirkstone Mountain, perhaps the longest and most laborious pass in England, a full league up, though the highest point of the road is considerably below the summit of the mountain. Immediately upon beginning to descend, a striking scene opened upon us; we were between two walls of rock, and on the left hand a brook, increased by innumerable streams from the heights on either side, rolled down a rocky channel. This opening soon spread into a vale, which continued to widen before us as we advanced. Here we saw scattered cottages built of loose stones and covered with slates, both roof and sides so rudely built, so tinged by weather, and clothed with ferns and mosses, as to blend with the colours of the natural scenery, almost as if they had been things of nature themselves, and not the work of man. They are the rudest cottages which I have seen in England, and indicate either great laziness in the inhabitants, or dismal poverty.